32: By The Light of The Moon

                                    

                                          
Someone was whispering in her ear, but she couldn't understand what they were saying.
                          
Then there was another.
                          
And a third.
                          
Suddenly, so many people were talking that it merged into one piercing noise – like a train whistle hitting her eardrums until she broke, waking up with a start.
                          
She was in the Salvatore House.
                          
In the room she usually slept in, lying on the bed, under the sheets.
                          
She looked around. Ric was asleep in the corner of the room, lounged out on a chair.
                          
She turned to put her feet on the ground, grabbing a glass of water from the bedside table and chugging it. Her throat was itching. She wanted to take a stick and shove it down her throat to try and scratch it, desperate to make it stop.
                          
She started to pull on her arms, tugging at her shirt, and at her trousers.
                          
It was like her skin was sticking to her bones, shrinking and locking her in place, until she could barely move.
                          
She needed fresh air.
                          
She needed to get out of her clothes.
                          
And she needed to find something stronger than her nails to tear her skin off so she could breathe.
                          
As she threw her jacket aside, she felt the chills kick in.
                          
Chills and sweats.
                          
Her stomach groaned.
                          
Was she hungry?
                          
No, no, no.
                          
It moaned again.
                          
She felt sick.
                          
"And Sleeping Beauty's awake – " Damon stopped when he saw her frantically trying to unlock the window latch
                          
It was like she couldn't move her fingers properly.
                          
"Okay, we're in crazy town."
                          
The window burst open, and she puked out of it, black goop slinking down the side of the house to give her some semblance of cohesive thought.
                          
Her voice was breathy, "How long was I out?"
                          
"Twenty – " He checked his watch, "Around twenty-seven hours."
                          
"What happened?"
                          
"You blew Elijah's head off."
                          
She froze.
                          
"I got Elena home. We found Stefan stuck in the tomb with Katherine, but he got your little trinket."
                          
Damon tossed her the faux moonstone.
                          
"So do whatever you need to do and give it to Bonnie, because, I repeat, Stefan is trapped in a tomb with Katherine."
                          
Ric jolted awake as Damon put a hand on his shoulder.
                          
He looked at MJ, "Ooohhh, you don't look good."
                          
MJ went into the bathroom, scanning herself in the mirror.
                          
Her hair had frizzed out, her skin looked like melted wax, and sweat was making her forehead glisten. The dark circles under her bloodshot eyes made it seem like she hadn't slept in a month.
                          
...Wait,
                          
Wait.
                          
She'd been asleep though.
                          
Slowly she touched one of the bags, pulling the skin down and rolling her eyes.
                          
She expected it to sting.