The steady beep of medical equipment punctuated the silence of the east room at the Salvatore Boarding House.
Lucien sat beside his father's bed, watching John's chest rise and fall with labored breaths.
The morning light filtering through the curtains did nothing to soften the reality before him – John looked decades older than he had just weeks ago, his once-powerful frame now gaunt, skin ashen.
Lucien closed his eyes, extending his awareness through the Force. He could sense the damage to John's life force – a void where vitality should be, like a river bed run dry.
He reached out, trying to channel a bit of the Force - trying just about anything - into that place where life was absent but it dissipated almost immediately.
"Like trying to fill a sieve with water," he muttered.
"Talking to yourself now? That's never a good sign."
Lucien's eyes snapped open to find Dean in the doorway, two coffee mugs in hand. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, betraying another sleepless night.
"You're up early," Dean said, offering one of the mugs to Lucien.
"Couldn't sleep." Lucien accepted the coffee, "Any change?"
Dean's gaze shifted to John. "Doc came by at dawn. Said his kidney function is declining."
The unspoken "along with everything else" hung in the air between them.
"Sam found another specialist," Dean continued, forcing optimism into his voice. "Some Dr. Visyak who specializes in... unusual cases."
"That's good," Lucien replied, though neither of them believed it. They'd already consulted seventeen specialists – medical doctors, shamans, faith healers, witch doctors. None had answers for life force depletion caused by an ancient cursed weapon.
Heavy footsteps in the hallway announced Sam's arrival. He carried a stack of leather-bound books, his tall frame stooping slightly under their weight.
"Morning," he greeted, setting the books on a side table. "I've been researching Mesopotamian life transference rituals. There might be something-"
"Dr. Visyak called back," Trevor's voice interrupted from the doorway. The Belmont hunter's expression said everything before his words did. "She can't help. Says life force depletion is beyond even her expertise."
Dean's fist slammed into the wall. "Son of a bitch!"
The sound of John's phone ringing cut through the tension. Dean grabbed it from the nightstand, checking the display.
"It's Kate," he said, stepping into the hallway to answer.
Lucien watched through the doorway as Dean paced, his free hand running through his hair.
"Yeah, we're trying everything... No, no change yet... I know, Kate... I know."
Sam squeezed Lucien's shoulder. "Let's get some breakfast. Zach's making pancakes."
---------------------
The kitchen smelled of coffee and maple syrup, a jarring normalcy against the crisis unfolding upstairs. Zach Salvatore was at the stove, flipping pancakes with ease.
"Coffee's fresh," he said without turning around. "Orange juice in the fridge."
Trevor sat at the table, ancient texts spread before him. He barely looked up as Sam and Lucien entered, his finger tracing lines of text.
"The spear's mechanism seems similar to a Babylonian artifact called the Rod of Aaru," he was saying as Sam took a seat opposite him. "It stored life force rather than simply destroying it."
"So Dad's life force could still exist somewhere?" Sam asked, reaching for the coffee pot.
Trevor shook his head. "The spear consumed it. Converted it to power."
Zach placed a stack of pancakes in front of Lucien, who stared at them without appetite.
Dean entered, pocketing John's phone. "That was Kate. She's worried."
"She should be," Trevor replied bluntly.
"Hey, Lu," Dean said, changing the subject. "Don't forget you've got that study group at Elena's today."
Lucien looked up sharply. "I'm not going."
"Yes, you are," Dean countered. "We agreed you'd try to maintain some normalcy."
"Dad's dying. Nothing's normal about that."
"You can't... put your life on hold... for me."
All heads turned toward the doorway where John stood, one hand braced against the frame. He looked like a man twice his age, face deeply lined, hair almost completely gray. His breathing was labored from the short walk from his room.
"Dad, you should be in bed," Dean said, immediately moving to his father's side.
John waved him off. "Been in bed... too long." He shuffled toward the table, legs trembling with the effort. "Lucien... go to your study group. That's... an order."
Before Lucien could argue, John's knees buckled. Dean lunged forward, catching him before he hit the floor.
"Dammit, Dad," he muttered, though there was no heat in it.
Trevor moved to help, supporting John's other side. "Let's get you back to bed."
As they guided John from the kitchen, Sam and Lucien exchanged worried glances.
"He's getting worse," Lucien said quietly.
Sam didn't bother denying it. "Yeah. He is."
-------------------
The basement of the Salvatore Boarding House had been converted into a training room, with weapons racks along one wall and open space in the center.
Lucien stood in the middle, eyes closed in concentration as three knives hovered in the air before him, spinning slowly.
Trevor leaned against the doorframe, watching with analytical interest. "Your control is improving," he observed. "Most psychics can't manipulate multiple objects simultaneously."
Lucien opened his eyes, carefully maintaining the knives' positions. "Is it safe for me to be around Bonnie? With that... thing attached to her?"
Trevor pushed off from the doorway, approaching cautiously to avoid disrupting Lucien's concentration.
"The Jinn? It should be. Qareens can't directly harm those they aren't bound to – it's one of their limitations. I check with a trusted source." He circled Lucien, studying the floating knives. "They're parasites, attached to a specific host. Bonnie, in this case."
"But it reacted to me," Lucien pressed, rotating the knives in a complex pattern.
"Yes, that was... unusual." Trevor rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "From what I observed, it seemed afraid of you. Your psychic abilities likely create a natural barrier it can't penetrate."
Lucien carefully lowered the knives to a nearby table, releasing his hold on the Force. "So it can't hurt me?"
"Not directly, no. Some Jinn can use magic, but this one hasn't demonstrated that capability, and it should've if it could, since you said how hateful it reacted to you, feeling powerless." Trevor crossed his arms. "Still, maintain caution. These entities are unpredictable."
Lucien nodded, wiping sweat from his forehead. The training had been more draining than he'd expected – or perhaps it was the cumulative effect of sleepless nights and constant worry.
"You're pushing yourself too hard," Trevor observed.
"I need to be stronger."
"For what purpose?" Trevor's gaze was piercing. "What exactly are you planning, Lucien?"
Before Lucien could answer, footsteps sounded on the stairs. Dean appeared, car keys in hand.
"Time to go, Lu. Girls are expecting you."
---------------------
The Impala's engine rumbled as Dean guided it through the streets of Mystic Falls. He had cranked the music up – Led Zeppelin blasting from the speakers in a transparent attempt at normalcy.
"So, study group," Dean said, tapping the steering wheel in time with the music. "That's good. Normal kid stuff. First time for you right?"
Lucien stared out the window, watching the town pass by. Mystic Falls looked like a postcard of small-town America – well-maintained buildings, neat sidewalks, American flags fluttering from lampposts. Y
et something about it felt off, like a stage set rather than a real place.
"You know," Dean continued when Lucien didn't respond, "I never did the whole study group thing either. Always thought it was for nerds." He grinned. "Guess that makes you a nerd, huh?"
When Lucien remained silent, Dean sighed and turned down the music.
"Look, I know this sucks. Dad's condition, being stuck in this weird town, all of it. But he's right – you can't put your life on hold."
"We've tried everything," Lucien said quietly. "The specialists, the rituals, even that faith healer in Alabama."
"We'll keep trying," Dean insisted. "There's always something else."
Lucien thought of his own attempts to use the Force to help John – brief moments of success followed by crushing exhaustion as the damage proved too extensive for his current abilities.
"What if there isn't?" he asked.
Dean's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. "There is. There has to be."
They turned onto a residential street lined with large, well-maintained homes. Dean pulled up in front of a two-story colonial with a wide front porch.
"The Gilberts," he announced, forcing cheerfulness back into his voice. "Nice place."
Lucien gathered his backpack, hesitating before opening the door. "I should be with Dad."
"Dad would want you to have a few normal hours," Dean countered. "Besides, Sam and I are just a call away if anything changes." His expression softened slightly. "Try to be a kid for a while, okay? God knows you haven't had much chance lately."
Lucien nodded reluctantly. "I'll call if anything feels wrong."
"That's my boy." Dean clapped him on the shoulder. "I'll pick you up at seven."
Elena Gilbert answered the door with a warm smile that immediately made Lucien's Force senses tingle.
There was something about her – a resonance in the Force unlike anything he'd felt before. Not power exactly, but a warmth, a light.
"Hi Lucien," she said, stepping aside to let him in. "Welcome to study group chaos."
"Thanks for having me," he replied, entering the house.
The Gilbert home felt lived-in and comfortable – family photos on the walls, a jacket thrown over the banister, shoes lined up by the door.
It was the kind of normal he hadn't experienced in a long while.
"Mom, Dad," Elena called, leading him toward the kitchen. "Lucien's here."
Grayson and Miranda Gilbert appeared from different directions – Miranda wiping her hands on a dish towel, Grayson closing a book he'd been reading.
"Welcome, Lucien," Miranda said warmly. "We've heard you're staying with Zach Salvatore."
"Yes, ma'am. Family friends."
Grayson studied him with interest. "Winchester, right? Any relation to the gun manufacturers?"
"No, sir. Different branch."
Grayson's eyes narrowed slightly, as if he were examining a specimen rather than greeting a child. "Interesting. And your father is ill, I understand?"
"Dad," Elena interrupted, "don't interrogate him the second he walks in."
Miranda laughed, the sound genuine and warm. "You'll have to excuse my husband. Doctor's curiosity." She gestured toward the kitchen. "The others are already set up. There are snacks on the counter."
Elena led Lucien through to the kitchen where three teenagers were gathered around the table, books and papers spread across its surface.
Caroline Forbes looked up first, her blonde hair perfectly styled despite the study session. "Finally! We can start properly now." She immediately began reorganizing papers. "I've created a study schedule with color-coded sections for each subject."
Matt Donovan offered a friendly nod, his expression suggesting this was standard Caroline behavior. "Hey, man. Good to see you again."
Bonnie Bennett sat quietly at the far end of the table, dark circles under her eyes. Behind her, hovering like a grotesque shadow, was the Jinn – its blue flame body shifting and writhing as it whispered into her ear.
The creature noticed Lucien immediately, its hollow eye sockets fixing on him. It recoiled visibly, moving to Bonnie's other side as if seeking shelter from his presence.
"Hi," Bonnie said softly, wincing slightly as the Jinn's whispers intensified.
"Okay, people!" Caroline clapped her hands. "We have three tests next week and I refuse to let anyone fail. Lucien, you're with me for algebra first."
Two hours into the study session, Lucien found himself actually enjoying the normalcy of it all. Caroline's price organization was oddly comforting, Matt's good-natured complaints provided comic relief, and Elena's intelligence reminded him of Sam.
Only Bonnie's situation troubled him – the Jinn constantly whispering, causing her to rub her temples every few minutes.
They'd moved to the living room, sprawled across couches and the floor with textbooks open before them.
"Ugh, I cannot keep these dates straight," Matt groaned, flipping through his history book. "Who cares when the Fell family built their stupid church anyway?"
"It's on the test, so you care," Caroline replied without looking up from her notes.
Elena nudged Lucien. "How are you holding up? Caroline's study boot camps are intense."
"I'm good," he replied, surprised to find it wasn't entirely a lie. "This is... nice."
"Normal, you mean?" Elena smiled knowingly. "Sometimes normal is underrated."
Lucien studied her, trying to place the unusual resonance he felt. It wasn't the Force – she didn't appear Force-sensitive – but something else, something... familiar in some ways yet different in others.
"So," Elena continued, lowering her voice, "You mentioned your dad's sick. I'm sorry."
Lucien tensed slightly as he looked back down at his papers. "Yeah. It's complicated."
"I can't imagine what your going through," Elena said. "I don't know what I would do if something bad happened to my parents. I don't know how I would even be able to cope..."
'You'd fall in love with a ripper vampire and have him fall in love with you,' Lucien thought drly, trying to humour himself without looking up - failing.
Bonnie suddenly gasped, dropping her pencil. The Jinn's whispers had grown more intense, its form seeming to press closer to her.
"You okay?" Elena asked immediately.
"Just another headache," Bonnie murmured, rubbing her temples.
'Can I really do nothing for her?' Lucien thought to himself a bit frustrated, not liking watching a little girl being tormented by some abomination.
He decided to try something.
He reached subtly for the Force, creating a barrier between Bonnie and the creature - maybe it would protect her. The effect was immediate – Bonnie's expression relaxed, her shoulders dropping as the pressure eased.
She instinctively looked at Lucien with confusion and gratitude, though she couldn't possibly know what he'd done.
"Wow... I feel... better," she murmered out loud, sounding surprised.
Before Elena could question what she meant the doorbell rang, interrupting the moment. Miranda's voice called from the hallway: "Bonnie, your grandmother's here!"
Bonnie gathered her books quickly. "Grams is early."
Lucien followed the others to the foyer where Sheila Bennett stood in conversation with Miranda Gilbert. The older woman exuded power - something ancient and earthy that Lucien recognized as witch magic.
Sheila's eyes found him immediately, her conversation faltering mid-sentence. Something flickered across her face – recognition? Concern? – before her expression smoothed into polite interest.
"You must be Lucien," she said, her voice rich and warm. "Staying with the Salvatores, I hear."
"Yes, ma'am," Lucien replied.
The Jinn hovered behind Bonnie, agitated by Sheila's presence but unable or unwilling to leave its host.
"Ready to go, baby?" Sheila asked Bonnie, placing a protective hand on her granddaughter's shoulder. The Jinn recoiled slightly from her touch.
"Yeah, Grams." Bonnie turned to the group. "See you guys Monday."
As they left, Sheila glanced back at Lucien, her eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to place something just beyond recognition. Then she was gone, guiding Bonnie to her car with a gentle but firm hand.
"Sheila teaches occult studies at Whitmore," Elena explained after they'd left. "Half the town thinks she's a witch."
"The other half knows it," Caroline added with a laugh. "But she's nice. Scary sometimes, but nice."
Matt checked his watch. "I should head out too. Got a shift at the Grill in an hour."
"But we haven't finished the history review!" Caroline protested.
"Some of us have to work, Care," Matt replied good-naturedly, even though he himself is a kid. "Not all of us have founding family trust funds."
Caroline huffed. "Fine. But you're doing double work tomorrow."
As Matt gathered his things, Elena turned to Lucien. "Want to stay for dinner? Mom's making lasagna."
Before Lucien could answer, his phone rang. Sam's number flashed on the screen.
The conversation around him fell silent as he answered. "Hello?"
Sam's voice came through tight with panic. "You need to come home now. Dad's taken a turn."
Lucien's heart dropped. "How bad?"
"It's bad, Lucien. Really bad. Dean's on his way to get you."
Lucien was already gathering his books. "I'll be ready."
He ended the call, finding Elena and Caroline watching him with concern.
"My dad," he explained simply. "I have to go."
"Of course," Elena said immediately. "Is there anything we can do?"
Caroline jumped in. "My mom's the sheriff – she could give you an escort if it's an emergency."
"No, but thank you," Lucien replied, shouldering his backpack. "Dean's coming to get me."
Elena walked him to the front door. "I'm sorry about your dad."
"Thanks." The word felt like a lie, since he couldn't really care right now how anyone felt about the situation.
They stepped onto the porch, the evening air cool against Lucien's face. Elena stood beside him, as they waited for Dean's arrival - being polite, and emphatetic like she always is.
They both stayed in kind of awkward silence, Lucien too concerned to talk about anything, and Elena sensing that the boy is not in the mood for small talk at all.
Headlights appeared at the end of the street, the Impala's distinctive rumble growing louder as it approached.
"That's Dean," Lucien said unnecessarily.
Elena pressed a scrap of paper into his hand. "Our house number. Call if you need anything."
The Impala screeched to a halt at the curb. Dean's face was grim, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.
"Gotta go," he called through the open window. "Now, Lu."
Lucien turned to Elena, being polite. "Thanks for everything."
Elena nodded.
He jogged to the car, sliding into the passenger seat. Dean pulled away before the door was fully closed.
"Dad's heart is failing," Dean explained, voice tight. "The doctor says his organs are shutting down."
Lucien stared straight ahead, a cold determination settling over him. "How long?"
"Hours. Maybe a day." Dean's voice cracked slightly. "They've done all they can."
Lucien's hand closed around the paper Elena had given him, crumpling it slightly.
As the Gilbert house disappeared behind them, he knew one thing with absolute certainty – he would not let his father die, no matter what it cost him.
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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all liked the chapter.
Do tell me how you found it.
Well, I hope to see you all later,
Bye!)