Damon lay sprawled on the cold floor of the basement cell, an empty blood bag slipping from his fingers.
"How long have I been down here?" he asked, his voice rough.
"Not long," Ron replied casually, leaning against the wall. "Barely half an hour."
Damon's eyes narrowed. "What's your plan here, huh? Aren't you afraid for Sarah's safety? And you, Stefan—how could you hand him vervain to use against me?"
He tried to push himself upright, back pressed to the damp wall.
Ron's tone was calm, almost taunting. "Do you know why you're even awake this soon? Tell me where Sarah is, and maybe you'll spare yourself some pain."
Damon gave a humorless smirk. "If I tell you now, do you really think you'd ever let me walk out of here?"
Ron took a step closer. "If you talk, you might still have a chance. If you don't—well, Stefan won't stop me from killing you, and you know that."
Stefan's voice broke through the tension, quiet but firm.
"During the Middle Ages, when vampires began to expose themselves, the entire species faced extinction. They were given judgment—not death, but... re-education."
"So what, you're planning to keep me locked in this basement forever?" Damon shot back bitterly.
"I'll inject enough vervain into your system to keep you weak," Stefan explained. "As long as you can't feed, your body will dehydrate and shut down. Within a week, you'll be mummified—unable to move or speak. Once that happens, I'll move you to the Salvatore family tomb. Fifty years later, we'll decide if you deserve to come out."
Damon let out a low laugh. "Sounds convenient. Fifty years—long enough for you and Elena to live out your sweet little human lives before you even think about me."
Ron crossed his arms. "You'd better tell us where Sarah is. Otherwise, you might not live to see those fifty years. I'm not as patient as Stefan—and you know it. You've controlled his housekeeper, provoked me, and now you're running out of time."
"She's fine," Damon said finally. "I sent her to do something for me. She'll be back in a week."
He knew better than to push Ron too far—Ron fought with lethal intent, and now that he knew vervain could kill him, things could turn ugly fast.
Ron's eyes stayed cold. "You'd better not be lying. If Sarah doesn't show up in seven days, Stefan won't even have time to bury what's left of you."
He turned to leave, pausing at the doorway. "And Stefan—don't even think about letting him go. If Sarah isn't back in a week, I won't kill you, but every secret you've kept from Elena? I'll make sure she knows all of them."
Damon glared at Ron's retreating figure. "Where are my ring and my necklace?" he asked Stefan.
"The ring's gone—you won't need it down here. As for this necklace…" Stefan pulled it from his pocket. "Wasn't this Katherine's?"
Damon forced a faint grin. "Would you believe me if I said it was a token of love between us?"
Stefan sighed, pocketing the jewelry. "Doesn't matter. You've only had one bag of animal blood—enough to keep you alive but not enough to escape. Once Sarah's safe, everything settles."
He turned to leave, muttering, "I'll bury these with the old family relics."
"You're underestimating me, little brother," Damon rasped.
"You've always been stronger than I thought," Stefan admitted. "But not stronger than vervain. I'm sorry, Damon—it didn't have to be this way."
With that, he stepped out, leaving Damon alone in the shadows.
"I'll give you a surprise soon, Stefan," Damon whispered, eyes glinting even in the dim light.
Four Days Later
"Where's Caroline?" Bonnie asked as she walked up to Ron.
"There," Ron said, nodding toward the right.
Caroline was in full command mode, addressing a group of students.
"Tomorrow's the Sexy Car Wash Festival! Football team, band members—everyone's in. Well, not everyone—only the super-sexy ones. It's a charity event, so I expect to see confidence on your faces!"
Bonnie smirked. "You two fighting?"
Ron sighed. "Not exactly. There are just… things I can't explain to her yet."
He'd tried lying—multiple times—but Caroline's intuition was uncanny. Every excuse he came up with, she saw through instantly. Now she was ignoring him altogether, and Ron was torn—either tell her the truth and risk breaking her worldview, or keep lying and lose her trust.
"Hey," Stefan called, walking over.
"You're here? Thought you'd still be cleaning up the mess at home," Ron said, half relieved, half wary.
"It's handled. No problem," Stefan replied evenly.
"Fine. Just keep it that way." Ron didn't push further—it wasn't the time or place.
"Um… I have to run," Bonnie said, finding an excuse to slip away.
Ron nodded. "Yeah, I've got to find Caroline again anyway. Catch you later."
But Caroline was still buried in planning the event, her mind on volunteer schedules and outfit choices, not him. Ron trailed beside her, trying to talk, but she barely looked his way. After a while, he gave up and left.
With nothing else to do, he decided to check on Damon. Stefan wasn't home, and Ron wanted to make sure the vampire hadn't somehow escaped his vervain-induced paralysis.
When he arrived at the Salvatore house, he froze.
"Unlock the door, Zach," Damon rasped, one hand crushing Zach's throat.
"Tsk, tsk," Ron muttered, stepping forward. "I leave for a few days and this is what I find?"
In an instant, he lunged, prying Damon's grip free with supernatural force.
"Persistent as ever, huh? Good thing I showed up—you might've actually escaped." Ron smirked, his voice edged with mockery.
"Sorry," Stefan said, hurrying in through the doorway. "Didn't think you'd wake up this soon."
Ron waved him off. "Forget it. Just—keep people away from the basement. Damon probably needs three more days before he's completely… dried out."
Turning back to Stefan, he asked lightly, "So, how's your girlfriend? You smooth things over?"
"I was supposed to meet her at the Grill around four to explain everything. I'm already late," Stefan said, glancing at his watch before running out.
Ron sighed. "Fine. Zach—lock everything down. Be careful."
After that, Ron finally headed home.
But as he pulled up to his house and killed the engine, he noticed something strange—
the lights upstairs were still on.
He frowned and began walking toward the front door, tension rising with every step.