Chapter 8: This Family Is Exhausting
That same night, Max sped to Elena's house, arriving just in time to see John being wheeled out barely breathing.
'Ugh — I forgot he does survive this, doesn't he? The roach,' Max thought to himself as he rushed passed a concerned Stefan checking up on Elena, rushing upstairs to Jeremy's room, intending to check up on the only Gilbert Max actually enjoyed the company of.
When Max arrived, Jeremy had a far off look in his eyes, still grieving Anna's death. Now he had to deal with his uncle being hospitalized. 'Man, this poor idiot has the worst luck…. No, actually, cannon Bonnie does, but Jere is a close second.'
"Jere?" Max slowly entered the room, eyeing his friend. "I heard your thoughts while you were shifted. You wanna go for a run? You are right in that shift running is freeing. We could go…Together, I mean. We are pack, after all."
A beat of silence passed.
"Power. That's what you gave me. But even with it, I can't save those I care about," Jeremy said after the pause. "You gave me power and, while I was using it, my uncle got hurt like this. Anna is dead. I'm usel—."
"Finish that sentence and I'll sock you, Jeremy," Max interrupted, causing Jeremy to balk in silence at his words. Resting a hand on Jeremy's shoulder, making eye contact, Max then said, "Having power isn't the same as being a god. We are not all-powerful. Neither of us could have guessed what would have happened to John. To… Anna."
"But we can be prepared for anything we are able to prepare ourselves for, you know."
"How do we do that?" Jeremy scrunched a brow, likely for confirmation.
"We train. We become stronger. We make sure we aren't helpless," Max said, spotting a spark of life returning to Jeremy's eyes at his words. He felt an odd sense of satisfaction that it was his words that put it there. "How do you feel about moving into my house? It will be easier to train you if you're nearby. Plus, I sense this town may well have its fair share of future vampire troubles coming sooner rather than later."
This caused Jeremy to pause in contemplation. His eyes widened in realization before steeling. "You've had a vision."
A statement. Not a question. And not that it wasn't exactly wrong — just not entirely true. But Jeremy didn't need to know Max's timeline knowledge, which was exactly why Max spurred the belief forth that he was a Seer, to protect himself from deep questions asked by others without need to answer the entirety of what he truly knew.
"Of sorts, yes," Max's smile was stretched.
Nodding to himself, Jeremy gave his answer. "I'll pack my stuff. Any rules I need to be aware of?"
"Just two," Max muttered, pulling a ring out of his pocket. "Wear this, at all times. I've enchanted it to protect you. That's the first."
Jeremy wordlessly donned the ring after carefully inspecting it, then, looking at Max, he asked, "And two?"
"Be dedicated. Your training won't be easy. We aren't going to sugarcoat things, not even me, your best friend," Max said.
"We?" Jeremy raised a brow.
"I've got a contact that I'll be pairing your training with — a friendly vampire I keep close contact with," Max answered. "But before we him do so, your vampire hunter History teacher will get you started on the basics. I just need to give him a heads up."
"Ok… Wait a minute. Alaric's a vampire hunter?" Jeremy asked, incredulously. "Seriously?"
"He's not good at hiding it from a seer. With a few promises, a couple extortions— We'll have you a decent hand-to-hand combatant in, maybe, 3–6 months?" Max grinned. With his cheshire smirk, one of typical mischief, causing Jeremy to eye-roll. "Go on, pack. I'll talk to Elena."
Max exited Jeremy's room, walking down to the base of the stairs, where Stefan was still contacting Elena.
Upon noticing me, both turned in my direction.
"Max… how is he?" Elena asked, concerned.
"As well as he can be. His vampire friend, Anna, was killed. And now John gets hurt," Max sighed heavily, brows furrowed. "I wanted permission to take him to Westphall Manor for just a couple of months.I think a summer with his friends should be good for him. And… I've had… troubling visions, Elena."
This caused both Elena and Stefan to lean in curiously, wordlessly urging Max to say his mind. They knew he was a special kind of witch, similar to how Bonnie was psychic. He was a Seer, similar premise, similar spark, different output.
"What visions have you seen?" Elena asked, brows furrowed.
"It started as nightmares, at first, since waking from my coma. Then flashes of events to come. IBlurs. Murmurs. Nothing too clear, just feeling, emotions and blurs. It wasn't until tonight, though, that I saw it."
"What? What did you see?" Stefan asked.
"Bodies. Of you, Elena. Of John. Of Jeremy. Killed in your own home," Max swallowed, eyes wide in fear. He looked between Elena and Stefan. "Ithought that, when I heard what happened to John…that it was coming to pas… I-I I can't lose Jeremy. I won't lose him. I can't. It's why I want him to move in with me, even if its just temporary. He's safer under the immense warding of my estate than he is here, unprotected.
"Something is coming to Mystic Falls, Elena. I will ward your home, but I want Jeremy with me. With your permission, of course."
Elena embraced Max, easily agreeing to Max's proposal. Max was always a decent actor. Perhaps a result of being semi-sociopathic? Either way, he got what he wanted.
After the embrace, Elena rushed upstairs to check on Jeremy. Stefan made an attempt to follow, but Max held a hand out, stopping him.
They locked eyes.
"What is it?" Stefan furrowed his brow, showing concern.
"I lied, Stefan. Or rather, altered the truth of my vision," Max spoke, intriguing Stefan. "I saw someone. A hazy, feminine figure standing over John's body, knife in hand, literal fangs… vampire."
Stefan's eyes widened in alarm. "That means whatever happened here was—"
"Vampires," Max replied, nodding. "Someone's arrived here, Stef. Someone strong. Don't underestimate your gut feeling. Of the Salvatore brothers, I trust you over Damon, especially as a Bennett witch myself. Whatever I saw…. It isn't just coming. It's probably already here."
The two exchanged a nod before Max made his way over to the kitchen, as Stefan headed back upstairs to Elena.
Meanwhile, on the Other Side, a certain Original vampire's been watching the whole thing.
Kol
Kol Mikaelson couldn't help but laugh at how this young warlock had played everyone. He couldn't believe that they were actually buying all of his story. It was very amusing entertainment.
"He's obviously part seer, that I'm not doubting," Kol commented after his laughing episode. "The different aspects of his story, though— he made up some of it, that's true, but whatever part of it is at its core— that must've been the vision.
"I would say, at the very least, this little warlock suit has the charisma clearly enough for that version of his."
"You're right. He definitely has ways to see through with clarity. And he's good at playing others like a fiddle. It's one of his more impressive traits," a woman's voice said from beside Kol. Qetsiyah. "He has secrets even I have not quite cracked, and I've been training him for a while now."
"Does he truly intend to un-dagger me?" Kol asked, curious, after a moment of silence.
"Yes…. At least, from what I've garnered from him," Qetsiyah answered the Original. "He doesn't find vampires the worse of companies, unlike many witches and warlocks, especially of the Bennett lineage. It probably also helps that you are the only Original even the most prejudice of the Witch Communities can admit reluctant respect and admiration for. It is, perhaps, your one redeeming trait, no doubt."
"Hmm," Kol merely smirked in response to Qetsiyah's cold, indifferent words.
"I expressed to him my caution of un-daggering without the protection of a celestial event… or, in the boy's case, a full moon. It would not do to have such a young, gifted descendant of mine to suffer a death-like curse."
"That would be… unappealing," Kol admitted, not entirely certain why the thought of the boy being hurt irked him so much. "Then again, I highly doubt it's a curse he couldn't counter. Though, to be on the safer side, it's probably a good idea for my little plaything of a witch to raincheck my un-daggering until the full moon. It sucks that I can't directly play with my toy until then, but at least he won't make things boring. Isn't that right, darling?"
But Qetsiyah had already vanished.
"Ugh. Witches…" Kol muttered, before returning his eyes to the house with a signature smirk on his face.
June 20th, Westphall Manor
For three days, Max had Jeremy practicing with his improved strength, speed, and stamina as a wolf-shifter. He wanted Jeremy to have full control over his physique during the sparring sessions with Alaric.
The last thing Max wanted was Alaric figuring out werewolves existed ahead of time. The bastard was likely to create a contingency that would not bode well for himself, which, for now, was not a productive part of his schemes. Control was paramount.
They sparred for days on end. With Jeremy's new physique, he ran hotter, ran faster, and hit harder. His physique began reflecting his wolf status. He bulked quickly. Not quite season 4 Jeremy Gilbert but definitely the in-between of Season 2 and Season 3 Jeremy. It wasn't a lot of over the top muscle growth, but, for his age, that bulk up was a plus.
Another thing that had come with his wolf had been a superior wolf. Apparently, Max's lack of anger issues typically shown to the wolf shifters of Twilight had been blessed upon Jeremy as well. He didn't get the added rage..
Don't get Max wrong, Jeremy still got angry. But the anger? It wasn't sourced from his wolf itself. No, it was all him, which, thankfully, made it controllable.
By the 22nd, Jeremy had phenomenal control, and Max had invited Alaric over to train Jeremy.
After a few blackmailing and promise-making, Alaric accepted Max's proposal of training Jeremy to be a hunter. At least, until the end of the summer.
Max, on the other hand, had other things to do. The manor was heavily warded and protected. The entire property was. So long as they stayed within it, they would be uninterrupted. The maids constantly restocked supplies, so they didn't have to go anywhere. And he had explained that to them, before hitting road in his Camaro.
He needed to go back to his hometown. That was why he was leaving. He had received a call that Kaleb Westphall had disgraced the coven somehow, and had been exiled; Max had offered to take him in.
He did this because he would not have the New Orleans witches' drama claim his blood, and he would sure as hell not let that conniving Esther touch his kin, exiled or not.
"This whole situation had managed to put a speed up in my plans. Kaleb being exiled wasn't a known factor. It makes me next in-line to lead the Westphall coven…I don't want that responsibility nor do I need it.
"If I want to maintain my freedom, I have to give the coven more options…Great, looks like I'll have to resurrect Mother sooner rather than later. Kol may have to wait," Max murmured in the car to himself. He felt a familiar shiver before turning on the heater. "This family is exhausting."
Kol
On the Other Side, Kol was not exactly thrilled to being told indirectly that he'd be a ghost for a while longer. On the plus side, though, he wasn't complaining.
Not really—because he finds the little warlock oh so enjoyable to watch over…