Go Against the Pack, That's Risking Your Life

[Patryk Verona]

Prompt List

• Teeth
• Winter
• Mirror
• Sacrifice
• Abuse
• Secret
• Magic
• Nickname
• Masquerade
• Limitation

[Patryk Verona]

N I C K N A M E

Patryk sipped the beer, hazel eyes combing the crowd in the somewhat dim room. Holiday parties weren't exactly his scene, but he agreed with Christian that he needed to be seen more. For one, it was a symbol of strength for Frost, and two, it was personal that they made a good showing of not being crippled by the losses in their families, however distant it was for Patryk. He had always considered himself scarce, but the reality that his species was dwindling into near-extinction now was a cold truth, and one that was a little more present in his thoughts than it had been before. He wasn't old by any stretch of the imagination, especially when standing in a room with Tristes who had been around long enough to have met Jesus (maybe, he wasn't sure, but he suspected someone there had been), but Patryk had a way about him that was uncommon for younger vampires. It was reminiscent of the one who had recently left Midnight, Stefan, though he didn't know that. But still, Patryk had gained ground as a heavyweight all the same, and he could sense the questions others had when they were introduced to him, all the while with his own echoing thoughts in his head about how rarity made prices on their heads higher.

He caught a familiar face in Capricia, and nodded to her, turning and pretending he didn't see her wave him over. Honestly, he understood that they needed to interact with everyone, but he was still coming off of his own adventures. He'd left after Christian had, and though he had been checking up on him periodically, he'd been doing some work of his own, too. Axel was the only one that really knew what he'd been up to - not that he knew any details, himself - it was more so there was some accountability in the event that things at Frost went sideways again. Fortunately, they hadn't. Unfortunately, things had gone sideways everywhere else, and Patryk found himself putting together 'The Bacchus Problem' along with 'The Phoenix Problem' and 'The Fae Problem'. Fae problems he knew, but the other two were news to him. And these were just the ones that had been big enough they'd gotten names. There were still smaller bombs dropping left and right.

Patryk wasn't one to get overwhelmed, but there was almost too much happening. He felt the noise start to go quiet as his brain just automatically began tuning everything around him out, a response to overstimulation that vampires got pretty much from day one, but just before it all tapered down to a soft hum, he heard someone exclaim his name and felt the sensation of a hand clapping on his shoulder. He turned, slowly (he thought), but it still came off as sudden. Fortunately, Axel was used to it.

"There you are," he said. The man fixed his blue eyes on Patryk, brows furrowed for a moment. It was like he had a sixth sense about his hunters. "Come over to the balcony, have a drink with us and get some fresh air," he offered. When Patryk held up his empty bottle, Axel shook his head. "Oh, we've got plenty. Come on, follow me."

Wordlessly, Patryk followed him to the large patio outside, taking a pause to appreciate how much more slowly things were moving there. He noticed that the handful of people out there weren't even bundled up, and it dawned on him that it was unusually warm for December. He snorted to himself, laughing at something nobody else could see. He'd been in Germany two days prior, digging his SUV out of the snow angrily. What a change.

"Patryk, you've met my daughter, Heidi, and her boyfriend, Russell," Axel said, gesturing to the good-looking couple.

"Of course, though it's been a while," he admitted, giving a nod to them.

"Hey, man, long time," another voice chimed in, coming to stand at the high-top. Jared Bastian held his hand out, and Patryk took it firmly. "When did you get back?" He ignored the brevity with which Patryk spoke. The vampire had always been like that, honestly.

"Oh, I've been around for a while now," Patryk said. "Few weeks, at least." He paused, eyes flicking to a blonde that stood slightly behind Jared, looking at her phone. "Who's your friend?"

"Ah, this is Amber," he said, stepping away and forcing her forward. "Amber, Patryk Verona," he said.

Vampire, Patryk could see that immediately. But she had a strange energy about her, like she was not quite right somehow. It wasn't the vampire in him that sensed this, either, it was all the cat. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he took her hand all the same. "Nice to meet you," he said, and though his voice sounded casual, it held attention and lacked sincerity.

"Your name sounds like a character from a storybook," she said, tilting her head at him. She laughed a little, then took an offered glass of champagne from Jared.

"Does it?" he asked, raising his brows.

"It's better than his nickname," Heidi said, wrestling a lighter away from Russell, who proudly proclaimed that he didn't need it anyways, and proceeded to set something on fire with no perceived source. Whatever it was got promptly smacked out of his hand by Axel, who said something sternly. The three of them began some heated debate that Patryk tuned out.

"Where's your accent from?" Amber asked, before Heidi's question fully registered. "What's your nickname?"

"My, full of questions, your friend is, Bastian," Patryk said. Jared only offered a shrug in return.

"Say I'm new," Amber suggested, shrugging. He put her at at least a hundred, but it was a soft hundred.

"You don't seem new," he challenged. They stared at eachother for a long moment.

"Don't steal my date," Jared warned, putting a hand between them. He was only kidding, but he also wanted to get a sense of whatever tension he was feeling - and it was all from Patryk's side, apparently. Dude just didn't like people in his space.

"He's not," Amber said, again, laughing. "Don't be so serious, Jared. And anyways, where's Ryan? Don't forget to tell him you annihilated his trivia record," she reminded. It was like a light went off in Jared's head, and he blinked.

"Oh shit, I do have to go gloat. I'll be right back," he said, turning on a heel. He spun back around, pointing at them both. "Be nice," he warned, though the warning was solely to Patryk, and they both knew it.

"So what's your nickname?" Amber asked again. She tilted her head, waiting for an answer, and studied him with her large doe-like eyes. She was all angles, like some sort of creature. She looked Fae, but she definitely wasn't.

"What's your bloodline?" Patryk asked back, voice smooth. He'd pinned down what that scent was, finally.

"You first," she said simply, and raised her glass to her lips, taking a long sip. She never took her eyes off of him, and though it was aimed to look unsettling, Patryk wasn't moved to any degree.

"The Dentist," he replied.

"Pandora," she said in return.

Patryk opened his mouth to call absolute bullshit, but she held her hand up.

"Jared's the only other one I've seen around here, and I'm helping keep him on the straight and narrow. You guys don't know the ins and outs," she said sharply. "Well, you might, but hunters typically don't. So. I'm a Pandora as far as anyone who isn't us is concerned. My job is just making sure he knows his limits," she finished. He could see that she wasn't lying about that, at least, especially by the way her posture changed when she confided in him.

"Okay," Patryk nodded. "Any more of you I see, I kill," he warned. "I know where you come from. Not dealing with that shit again." And he was serious.

"Ah," Amber said, as though she suddenly understood more of the picture. "That explains the accent."

"A fucking infection is what you are," he said, his voice dropping an octave, but still that smooth tone.

"Well, maybe if you could go back in time and undo a blood curse, we'd all be better off. But, Mr. Dentist, I'm going to guess time travel isn't your superpower, so let's just - " she advised, waving her hand in a gesture that clearly meant for him to bring it down. "Good to see you're from the old country, though," she said sarcastically.

There was another long moment of silence between them as they stood, watching Axel, Heidi, Russell, and a handful of other newcomers on the balcony laughing and joking and carrying on about with the goal in mind to have one night with no worry. Axel had made eye contact with Patryk briefly over his daughter's head, and he'd received a nod that told him the man was good where he was for the moment. Finally, Amber opened her mouth again. "So, why do they call you the Dentist?" she prompted, turning to look at him.

"You're better off not knowing," Patryk said, and she got the impression that it was his honest answer. "Look, here's Jared. And Ryan. Try not to eat him," he said darkly, glancing at her.

"Gross," Amber said. "I'm a vegetarian." When Patryk gave her a blank stare, she rolled her eyes. "Heidi's a little more my type," she said, her expression clearly exasperated.

"Don't eat her, either, then," he said sharply, pushing off of the table and leaving her there to roll her eyes again. He held his hand out to Ryan in greeting, who he'd somehow missed seeing all night until just now. "Hey man," he acknowledged. "Let's go find Capri and Connor. I want you to stand next to him super close so he has to look up to talk to you," Patryk said, causing Ryan to choke on his drink as he stifled a laugh.

[Patryk Verona]

L I M I T A T I O N

Patryk wasn't one for waiting around, and he'd given the contact until he finished the cigarette before he was heading back to the hotel. Stefan said he couldn't vouch for the legitimacy of whoever the person was, but he said that he'd heard the name 'around', and knew the person might be inclined to help him. The other vampire had gone out to get some supplies - what, Patryk didn't ask, but he was under the impression that the two were of one mind about what was to come next. So here he stood, in the dead of winter in Berlin, leaning against a broken street light at the building across from a warehouse that had been turned into a club. The loud thud-thud-thud of music practically shook the air immediately outside it, and his mind wandered to different times.

"Gross, doesn't that shit bother your like, animal side, or whatever?" a voice said, genuinely startling Patryk, who prided himself on being situationally aware.

To his credit, he didn't whip around like he wanted to, instead turning slowly, and giving the man who spoke a quick up and down. Fae. He could smell it on him. Old, too, but he couldn't tell how very. With Fae, it was hard to tell, so he treated them all like they were dangerous, because typically, they were. He'd been smart enough to approach him from the back, which suggested he'd been sizing the vampire up before he said anything at all. Smart.

"No," he said, and didn't offer anything further. Instead, he flicked it at the Fae, for the folly of getting the drop on him.

"Hey!" Roshan snapped, smacking the cigarette but away. He ignored the sting on his hand, and it faded as quickly as it came. "Alright, asshole, I came here because I was told you needed some help, but clearly you've got it all worked out, whatever it is you're up to, so I'll just leave you to it." He straightened the dark blue button-down shirt he wore, rolling his eyes and turning around. "Fucking vampires," he hissed, stepping off the sidewalk and stepping into the slush on the street, headed towards the front of the club. "All the goddamn same."

"So temperamental," Patryk teased. "Silly Fae. All the same."

Roshan said something awful in his native tongue, then turned. He smiled at the vampire, but it did not meet his eyes, and it was clearly insincere. "Psychological warfare, that's new. Usually you guys just try to knock me around and get a bite."

"Is that right?" Patryk said, brow arching. Something the Fae said had given him an idea, but he didn't ruminate on it. He pushed off of the post, uncrossing his arms. "Heard two in particular have been giving you a really good knocking around, lately. Know anything about that? Don't worry," he said, holding a hand up preemptively. "I'm not a friend. Not to them."

"Yeah, not to me either, I'm sure," he said under his breath. "And, man, fuck those guys," Roshan said, waving a hand. "Ever since Midnight fell over there, shit has been crazy here. When a little birdie got back to me and said there might be some folks coming through to handle the issue, I thought I'd offer my services. But, I can tell from looking at you that you're just as psychotic as they are, though, I'd take a trebuchet launching flaming boulders at me over those assholes killing all my customers and trying to turn me into a quarter pounder." He thrust his hands into the pockets of his trousers, shrugging.

Patryk rolled his eyes. "Why are Fae so dramatic?" he muttered. "I think we can use your services, particularly because I heard a rumour you have something that might fuck up magic ability."

Roshan made a face, but he was interested. "I might," he said, stepping out of the street and back onto the sidewalk. He still kept a healthy distance from the vampire. "But that's pretty vague." He glanced around, then looked back at Patryk, dropping his voice. "What exactly do you need it to do?"

The vampire studied him for a second, and then understood that he was offering to make something specific, without saying as much. "It needs to be able to neutralize that ice scheisse that Timozel can do. Can you do it?"

The Fae sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "God, you're gonna get me fuckin' killed, aren't you?" he said.

"So that's a yes," Patryk replied.

"Yeah. Yes. Yes, I can make something like that. There are some limitations, but - "

"Good. You can tell me about them on the way," Patryk said, taking his arm firmly. He made to phase out, but immediately phased back in, feeling like he'd been kicked squarely in the gut. He let Roshan go in order to catch himself on the icy sidewalk, falling and making an undignified wretching noise.

"Oh, yeah," Roshan said, laughing a little. "You can't just, uh, grab one of my kind and try to do the vanishing thing. We're like fuckin' anchors, man. If we don't wanna go, we're not going." He paused, watching Patryk. "Man, you do not deal with Fae a lot, do you bud? Hey, looks like I found one of your limitations, speaking of."

Patryk made to wretch again, still dry heaving. "You could have warned me first," he snarled, pushing up off the sidewalk, only to double over as another wave hit him. "Fucking pest," he spat.

"Yeah... I could have," Roshan agreed. "Anyways, no offense, but I'm not going to go anywhere with you. I'll meet you in two days, back here. In the meantime, don't just go around grabbing strange men in Germany, dude. It's weird, and frankly, your whole - " Roshan waved his hands around at Patryk, who was finally upright again, "like, scary Waffen-SS thing, it's super off-putting."

"Waffen-SS," Patryk exclaimed, brows going up as his voice rose in shock.

"Yeah, man! Tall, blonde, scary, long dark coat?" Roshan snapped, heading back across the street. "You're not personable!" He disappeared into the club, the thud thud thud drowning out whatever he yelled out as the door swung shut.

"Jesus," Patryk said, preparing to phase again. "You are really not going to like my partner." And with a small chuckle and a shake of his head towards the disbelief of the situation in which he existed currently, he was gone.

[Patryk Verona]

T E E T H

Patryk's laughter cut through the cold air. He laid on his back in the blood-soaked snow, the sound echoing off into the night. Fuck, but he was in pain. He'd almost gotten a bite taken out of him, too, but he remembered the warning Stefan gave him, and so he'd managed to avoid it by wearing fucking chainmail. He'd been burning up the entire time, too, but he knew it would pay off - and it had. Timozel had gone in to take a piece out of him given the first opportunity, and it hadn't worked out in his favor. It didn't necessarily give Patryk the upper-hand, but it had been another thing they could take away from that fucker.  It was now laying in the snow next to him, leaving Patryk shirtless, as the first thing he'd done as soon as the fight was over was take the shit off.

About thirty feet away, Roshan squatted down, sucking in air as quickly as he could get it. Vampires had always been pretty low on the rung, but Rajz had been... something else entirely. He was supernaturally strong - like, more than normal. He'd been glad that he hadn't agreed to let them dose him with that junk blood to lure Rajz into taking a bite, because he could see it going one of two ways, and neither of them were good for him. Still, he was adrenalized in a way he'd never felt before. He'd killed before, but never - like that.

"So what... what do you do with them after you kill them, usually?" he asked, his voice still shaky.

"Usually?" Stefan asked. He looked a little worse for wear, but he wasn't showing any signs of duress - more like, irritation. "Cut the heads off, burn the bodies. I mean, you already ripped his off, though, so I'd say we're making good time."

"I'm sorry, should I have let him continue whaling on you?" Roshan asked, a hand up at Stefan's tone. "It isn't like I wanted to. I just - I don't know. Reacted."

"Hell of a reaction, kid," Stefan said, clicking his tongue.

"I'm literally like, five times your age, dude," Roshan said, his voice tired.

They walked to where Timozel's body was, Patryk having gone to retrieve something from the back of the SUV. Unlike Stefan, Patryk looked like he'd received some battle damage. But also unlike Stefan, he didn't seem irritated. He seemed... like he was in his element. He glanced over at Roshan, a grin on his face.

  "Dude, where is your shirt?" Roshan demanded.

"You know what they call me?" he asked, wiping his bloodied face with the back of his hand like a child smearing chocolate on his face, ignoring Roshan's question.

"Oh, god, here we go," Stefan said, rolling his eyes. "I'll leave you two to your... devices," he said, his voice dripping with distaste. He turned, illuminated by the headlights, and walked back towards the vehicle.

"No, but I'm sure you're gonna tell me," Roshan said, rocking to his feet. He walked over to where Patryk was though, hating to admit he was a little curious. The man crouched down over Timozel's body. "Jesus," he said. "You fucking splattered this dude."

Patryk glanced up, grinning. "He almost splattered me," he admitted. "But, thanks to your little vial of fairy dust, tipped that scale. Stefan threw it right in his mouth when he was yelling. I wanted to laugh, but there was no time."

"Well, you took off your clothes and howled into the snow right after, so, I guess it worked out," Roshan said. He knelt down on the other side of the body. "I know I'm gonna fucking hate myself for this, but... what do they call you?" he asked flatly. He saw Patryk take out a pair of pliers and nearly shat. "Whoa, man. I was just kidding about the Mengele stuff earlier," he rushed.

"They call me," Patryk said, ignoring Roshan's sudden case of motor-mouth as he "whoa whoa whoa'd" him, and thrust the pliers into the dead vampire's mouth, taking hold firmly of a fang. "The Dentist. And do you know why?" he asked, giving a hard yank.

"Oh, god," Roshan said, squinting. "Because you pull out their teeth like a creepy serial killer who keeps trophies?"

"You know, Roshan, pulling his fangs out as a trinket for the man whose family he ordered killed is a far cry from removing his head with my bare hands," Patryk said, gesturing with the tool that held a tooth firmly in its grasp. "And anyways, I thought you had a sword," he said, making a face as he went for the second fang.

"I do," Roshan said hotly. "I just... didn't bring it."

He glanced up as Stefan walked by them, muttering something that Roshan didn't quite make out but sounded an awful lot like, "And I'm the actual Nazi," and casually squirting lighter fluid on the body as he passed. "Hurry up, Dentist. Don't want to keep Justin waiting," he said, making his way through the snow to the other, headless, body.

"You think he wants Rajz's head?" Patryk asked, glancing up. It was a serious question.

"No, Patryk, I do not think he wants Rajz's head," Stefan replied, his back to them. The bottle made a sound as he squeezed it harshly.

"Do you want it?" he said, looking at Roshan.

"I really don't," Roshan said.

"Suit yourself," the bloodied vampire said, standing and dusting the snow off of himself. He looked down at the dead vampire for a long moment in silence, and Roshan opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it, and closed it. He didn't need to use his fairy sense to get the impression that something way more serious was occurring in the silence than he'd initially thought. Patryk glanced up to Stefan. "I'll burn this one," he said, and Roshan got the impression he should walk away, so he did.

"Hey man, what's up with that?" Roshan asked, walking next to Stefan as the vampire looked around for the discarded head. "Here, let me... I think I threw it over here," he said, jogging to the woodline to retrieve the, ugh, discarded head. "Yeah, it's... I found it," he called, waving him over.

"Just kick it," Stefan called back.

"You want me to what?"

"Kick it! Like a football. Or, soccer ball. Like a fucking ball, just kick it to me," he said, his voice growing more irritated by the minute. He sounded like a parent telling their child how to complete a simple task. "Do you want to kick it or pick it up, kid?" he demanded, dropping his hands by his side, looking more the part of the frustrated parent now.

Roshan kicked the head over to Stefan, hard, but was completely not surprised when the vampire stepped out with his foot and stopped it. He looked up at the sky and pretended he didn't here the sound that came after. When he looked back down, Stefan was right in front of him, and caused him to jump back, letting out a yell. "Dude!" he yelled.

"You did good work out here, tonight. I know you don't think much of vampire business; in fact, I get the impression you'd have stayed out of it entirely if Patryk hadn't tricked you - "

"Convinced me, " Roshan cut in.

"Whatever you need to tell yourself, kid," Stefan said. "Either way."

Roshan laughed a little. "You don't think I'm a kill stealing jackass?" he challenged, brow raised.

"Kill-stealing - you play way too much Call of Duty," Stefan said, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah? Because I get the impression that if I'd have jumped in on ol' Timo there, Patryk would have skewered me right along with him," he said, nodding to where the other vampire stood. Stefan turned to look, and they both watched as Patryk stood silently over the burning body, bloody fist clenched tightly around the teeth he'd retrieved.

"That..." Stefan said, lowering his head. "That is a man who is on the extinction list, and two closer to zero, thanks to Timozel's decision-making."

"Is that why he's so.... intense?" Roshan asked. He knew he smelled something strange about him, but he couldn't put his finger on it. And, he hadn't seen him shift at all, because he'd been too busy... yeah.

"Huh? Oh, no, he's always been that way. Long as I've known him, anyways. Still... I hope this brings him peace."

"I've been alive a really, really long time, man," Roshan said, his voice lacking the usual attitude. "And I'm here to tell you... it usually doesn't."

Stefan smiled at him, and there was something serene on his face. "Not for all of us," he agreed. He reached out, patting Roshan on the shoulder. "But for some." He ignored the face Roshan made at the sudden touching moment. "Now, come on. Let's get out of here and get cleaned up. Your hands are filthy, you know that? Well, that's what happens, I guess, when you rip someone's head off," he said with a chuckle.

"God, don't remind me," the Fae muttered. He put his hand to his mouth, cupping it to shout. "Patryk, put on your fucking shirt!"

[Patryk Verona]

A B U S E

They pulled up to the house because every time Patryk had tried to phase from the SUV, one of those fucking Fae had grabbed his arm. For the trouble, the SUV received a massive dent in the door, one he heard Stefan laugh at as he got out to survey the damage. "Since you all insisted on coming along," Patryk said, speaking through clenched teeth, because now he was good and pissed, "get accountability of every single thing coming out of that house. I don't know how many are in there, but they might need help. Use your - whatever the fuck you have," he said, gesturing to them with a sprinkling motion.

"Use my Salt Bae?" Whitney quipped.

"Not now," Stefan warned her, and all the humour that the vampire had held in his voice previously was gone. He shook his head at her, and she rolled her eyes, slapping her hands at her sides.

"Right, I got it. We'll be the medical tent," she said with a sigh.

"And you," Patryk said, pointing a finger directly at Roshan. "No support, this time. Stay out here, with them. Stefan and I will handle this."

Roshan held his hands up. "I'm not trying to get involved!" he protested. "But, I did hear your boss say try not to like, you know," he said, making a noise and running his finger across his neck. "I could actually help with that."

"Didn't you rip a guy's head off?" Roxy asked, shifting her body weight from foot to foot in the wet grass of the yard. "Just - we'll watch him, guys," she assured them, reaching out and clamping down on her brother's shoulder. She rolled her eyes, holding him in place as he fought back. "I'm stronger than you are, Roshan," she reminded him.

Neither vampire stood around to hear how that argument was going to go, instead walking directly to the house. "You get the cats. I'll take Katya," Patryk said. He saw Stefan nod out of the side of his vision, and paused at the top step, turning to him. "I'm gonna try," he said.

"Not hard, though," Stefan countered.

"Probably not," he admitted.

"Don't blame you," the shaggy blonde said. "Alright, let's do this." And with a quick motion, he drew his knee to his chest, then kicked out, planting his boot firmly on the door. It practically exploded off of the hinges.

"Jesus, what's Santos been putting in your Wheaties?" Patryk asked, looking with surprise at Stefan. Stefan only offered him a casual shrug in return, then stepped directly into the foyer of the house. He heard footsteps, but was thankful when it was Darren he saw, whose face was filled with relief.

"Oh, thank god," he breathed. "I'm holding on by a thread." And he looked it, honestly. Patryk hadn't seen Darren in a while, because he'd been absent from the bar - for obvious reasons - but also because he hadn't been around when Patryk had been there.

"Come on, we're here to get you guys out," Stefan said, extending his arm towards the door. "Where is everyone else?" He didn't miss the confused look on Darren's face, and rolled his eyes. "Where are they?" he asked again, prompting the cat from his momentary daze of seeing what he'd known as a terror in Midnight as one of the good guys.

"Upstairs. Derek came down to trade out with Serena. She was breaking. There's three more," he explained, his voice shaky. He gave them their names and ages. "Erik, Serena, Derek and I were the most resistant to her power, so we've been trading out, trying to keep the kids from getting completely brainwashed. It's getting really hard," he admitted. "I don't understand. She was our friend."

"She's not your friend, anymore," Patryk said. Something dark passed over his eyes, and Darren just nodded, passing his hand through his dark mop of hair.

"Go out to them," Stefan told him. "And do not come back here. They'll help you. I'll go get the others," he assured him.

"Serena - she's my twin," Darren said, and he stopped, unsure of what he meant to say after that.

"I understand, boy," Stefan said, his voice lacking the harshness it had previously. "I'll get her out. Go over there, now," he pressed. When the cat ran from the house, Stefan looked back at Patryk. "Won't she be able to roll you?"

"Just go get the others," Patryk said, not answering his question. Stefan didn't know if it was because he didn't honestly know, or because he didn't care. He couldn't say he'd bet on either, as both answer was characteristically Patryk. He went up the stairs quickly, vanishing from the sight of the other vampire.

Patryk rounded the corner, coming into a tense scene. Katya was holding onto Derek, and he could see from her grip that the boy was in pain, but he was making a pretty good show of not reacting to it. "Let him go," he told her, like he'd simply told someone to put something down.

"No," she said, anger reflected on her pretty face. "He's my family, he's staying with me," she insisted.

"No," Patryk said, tone like he was speaking to a child. "He's my family, and you're going to let him go, or I'm going to make you."

To Derek's surprise, Katya did let go, but he felt a wave of power come from her that almost knocked him on his ass. He stumbled away from the sudden release of her grip, using the momentum to get as far away as he could from her in the process. Given that Kiyoshi had made him feel like he was being physically ripped into a few dozen pieces, low-crawling across a carpeted dining room floor wasn't above him if it meant getting to safety. He scrambled to his feet as he made it about even with Patryk, and then hesitated.

"Run," Patryk told him, the command issued before another, much more harsh, wave of power rolled across.

Derek ran, surprised that Stefan snatched him as his foot passed the threshold of the front door. "Go to them, now," he urged. He had known Katya would use her power to try and stop this coup, and was incredibly thankful for the trio of Pixies who had essentially created a zone where her magic did not reach. No, she'd be calling none of her prisoners back to her this night.

"You're gonna make me?" she asked, tilting her head. She reached out, shoving the table out of her way, and it slid across the carpet and into the wall with a crash. It was a display of power that might have intimidated a human, but to another vampire, it was nothing. "You are a child compared to me. You couldn't make me do anything," she said, her chin raised.

"I'm older than I look," Patryk said, and though it was cryptic to Katya, it was a bluff. In truth, he'd just heard it from Roshan so many times, it had become reflexive. Of course, she wouldn't know that.

She clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms. "I could make you," she told him, her smoky voice dangerously low. "I can feel it in you, cat. I could rip it out of you, right here, right now," she threatened.

Patryk stared at her, his expression unphased. Oh, he could definitely feel her bearing down on him, trying to get him to shift, but someone far worse than her had already played that game with him - and failed. "You could try," he told her. "But it didn't work out too well for the last one of you who tried to make me do anything," he said. He had a knife in his hand, then, and his grip on it tightened. "I guess I'll tell Christian I did try," he said. "But I draw the line at being made to do things against my will."

Something he said made Katya snap. She inhaled sharply, and then began sobbing. "You're right - no, you're right, you're right," she said suddenly. She held her hand out, then sank down to her knees on the carpet. It was sudden, but Patryk didn't change his focus any. "Please, please kill me," she said, gulping. She was hysterical, now. "Please, I need you to - this isn't me, I can't - I did those things, these people are my friends, and I - Oh my god, I don't deserve to still be here, it should be Tanya, it shouldn't be me".

Patryk took a step forward, ready to oblige her, but that fucking fairy got in front of him, holding his hands up and waving them wildly.

"Wait!" he shouted. "Wait, wait, wait, Patryk, wait," he said.

"Kid, are you out of your fucking mind?" Patryk growled. Fuck it, he'd slice him, too. The Fae would recover. Patryk advanced, only to be met with a sharp shock as he felt himself suddenly and wholly in pain for a long second. He yelled out in surprise, dropping the knife, but made quick work of reaching for it again.

"Hey!" Whitney yelled, her voice echoing from where she stood in the doorway. "Don't threaten my brother, or the next time, it's not just gonna hurt," she warned. Fuck, were they ganging up on him, now?

"Patryk, I know you're all 'I am vengeance' or whatever right now but dude, trust me, I am uniquely qualified for this very, very specific scenario. Okay? Just trust me," Roshan said. He backed away from Patryk, and he did look sorry that the dude had met the wrong end of a little bit of lightning. He turned back to the vampire who was a mess on the floor, holding his hands out like he was trying to tame a wild animal.

"Katya, is that your name? Hey, you remember me? We met a few hours ago, and I - "

"God damnit, kid!" Patryk roared at him, getting back up. "You'd better figure it the fuck out, because you've got about thirty seconds before I don't give a fuck what your sisters have in store for me," he warned.

"Shit," Roshan said, looking from Patryk and back to the girl on the floor. "Listen, this isn't going to make a lot of sense, and normally I like to get to know someone before I, uh, do this, but - oh fuck it," he said. He pushed out with his power, hard, directing it right at her. She stopped crying almost immediately, and with that, the sudden stoppage of her oppressive power. It felt like the area, which had previously been something like being vacuum sealed, suddenly popped, and outside, all of the cats, despite being in the no-no zone, felt sudden relief.

Patryk, who had felt the crushing weight on his chest of her power, was left only with the lingering sting from Whitney's magic. He shook it off, pointing at her with his knife. "She had my family," he said, his voice still thick with anger.

"And she's not going to do it again," he said, still at arm's length from her, crouched down. "Are you?"

She looked up, face red and eyes swollen from crying. "No," she said, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry - please tell them I'm sorry, I couldn't control it," she said, speaking quickly, tripping over her own words.

"It's okay, shh, stop, stop," Roshan said, inching closer to her. "It's over, okay? I stopped it, you're okay."

Patryk walked out of the house in a daze, though wholeheartedly unsatisfied because he'd really wanted to kill something. It was quickly forgotten when Derek spotted him and darted over, not too manly at all to hug his 'uncle'. Patryk gripped the boy tightly, looking around him at Stefan, who only nodded to him in return.  He released Derek, walking through the throng of cats and going straight for Whitney, who immediately jumped up, holding her hands up in surrender.

"His gift is emotions," she said quickly, backing up until she felt the metal of the SUV. "He really was equipped for this one. More than before. He's way better at that than he is at, you know, decapitation," she added, a nervous laugh following. When Patryk was still silent, she kept talking, trying to fill the space. "Look, I'm sorry I bolted you, but you cannot fuck with my brother," she said, shaking her head.

"I told you all to stay out of the way," he said finally. He turned from her, obviously having nothing for the rest of it, and Whitney had to hide her smirk because she knew she'd won. He looked at Roxy as he walked past her, not missing the daggers she had for him, either. Truthfully, Patryk was burning mad that he hadn't been able to kill the vampire. As far as he was concerned, there was no room for any abuse of power like that anymore.

"You know, sometimes there is a way around it," Stefan said, as though he had read his mind.

"And sometimes there shouldn't be," Patryk said flatly. He watched as Roshan walked with Katya out of the house, guiding her to the car that held Sasha and Raphael, who had assured Stefan they were taking her somewhere to get her better. Whatever that meant, he didn't know, and he didn't fucking care. "The wrong ones get to walk away far too often."

"Maybe," Stefan admitted. He glanced at Patryk. "But to a lot of people, we've been the Wrong Ones."

Patryk didn't say anything, just nodded a little.