[Alright, this is a Damon/Conrad/Jeremy thread. I'm RPing Conrad and Jeremy on one account since I don't want to switch accounts like a maniac]

Conrad scowled as he walked, just barely matching pace with the boy he was arguing with. No one stole Conrad's stuff, no one, unless they were stupid and they really wanted him to come after them. He wasn't in a fighting mood today, so he just planned to bitch at the other kid until he got his stuff back. "I know you took it!" he practically snarled.

Jeremy shook his head, unphased by Conrad's anger. "No, you don't. If you knew I was responsible, you would have attacked me." He flipped his dark hair, his expression flat and unreadable, his tone nonchalant and quite flippant.

Jeremy's detached emotions just infuriated Conrad even more, and he shouted, "Well then maybe I will!" His eyes narrowed, he wanted his fucking stuff back! He didn't care whether it could easily be replaced, it was only a few CD's after all, he didn't like the audacity of someone else stealing his stuff! "Let's go outside then, if you're so fucking sure you didn't take it!"

Jeremy smirked. "Fine."

Conrad's rage was boiling over as he shoved open the door to the Academy grounds, cursing the other boy out under his breath as he strode silently over to the place where most fights were held, his mouth set in a hard line. He spun around to face the fire student, eyes burning with anger. "I'll give you one last chance to give me it back, you pathetic, weak bastard!"

He hadn't expected this to affect Jeremy in the least, but it did so in a way that he couldn't have dreamed. Jeremy's eyes burned red and he snarled, the sound guttural, feral in his throat, and he narrowed his eyes. But he knew that Conrad didn't care about pain toward himself, and emotional blows would just make him laugh. Yes, Jeremy could tell that much just by looking at him. So instead... he spotted a perfect target. "At least I'm not as weak as your little pet," he said snidely.

"Damon is not weak!" Conrad defended loyally.

"We'll see about that," Jeremy said, knowing he'd got to a soft spot at last. "How weak do you think he'll look when I hurt him?"

Conrad snapped, lunging for Jeremy. But the vampire knocked him aside easily, creating an almost invisible, yet burning hot barrier of fire. Conrad tried to look for a way around it, but couldn't. And if he so much as touched it, he'd suffer extreme burns. "Don't touch him!" he snarled.

Jeremy ignored him, eying Damon like a very hungry cat might eye a juicy, plump mouse.

Breathing hard and panicking, Conrad was desperate to do anything to protect Damon - Jeremy was smart, because in going for Damon, he had found the only real way to get to the cold thunder student. In desperation, he created an electric charge and tried to shock Jeremy, but it was easily repelled by the flaming barrier, and it backfired on Conrad instead, causing him to collapse, his energy stolen from his own powers. "Fuck," he cursed under his breath, too exhausted to move, not wanting to watch what Jeremy was going to do, but at the same time unable to look away. Jeremy smirked, loving the effect this had on the scene.

He took a few steps toward Damon, his dark eyes burning a dark shade of scarlet, still smirking sinisterly. He flicked his wrist, and a searing hot ball of fire materialized, floating just above his hand. He came even closer to the wind student, smirking as he pulled the fire boundary even tighter, so the poor boy had nowhere to run. Jeremy had planned something like this out for a long time, Damon just happened to be the unlucky victim.

When he was right in front of him, Jeremy stopped. "Know what it feels like to burn?" he drawled, then without warning the fire erupted in a flash of bright red, and was sent toward Damon in a searing wave. Laughing coldly, knowing that his victim would be in extreme pain, Jeremy wasn't finished. He took the blade from his pocket, flicking it open. "Know what it feels like to bleed?" he hissed, slashing it across his stomach.

Conrad flinched, breathing hard, actually crying, feeling that it was all his fault. If Damon died because of this... and even if he didn't, the pain... every wound Jeremy inflicted, Conrad felt it emotionally. "Stop it," he begged. "Please." His voice was weak, he could barely speak, his eyes were rimmed with red from the tears, he'd never cried before, Damon meant everything to him.

But Jeremy just smirked wider. "How sweet," he laughed. "You should have known better than to insult me," he concluded simply, then turned back toward Damon, this time slashing the blade across his cheek.

[This was really, REALLY depressing and hard to write ]

The searing wall of fire finally dispersed into the air, and Conrad tried desperately to get to his feet as Jeremy turned away from Damon and strode silently past him. But he only managed to move a slight bit when Jeremy turned unexpectedly, slicing the knife through the air. Conrad put his hand up reflexively, the blade slashing a deep wound in his forearm and only slightly nicking the left side of his jaw. But the pain was barely felt, his senses had went numb with the raw grief he felt for Damon, he was so scared that the one person he cared for, his boyfriend, his best friend, the only friend he'd ever had, wasn't going to make it. Jeremy left without another word, and Conrad forced himself to get up, going over to Damon as fast as he could.

"No," he mumbled, his voice soft and full of anguish as he saw just how much blood there was, the extensity of the injuries, the severity of the burns. And then the tears were flowing non-stop, his body shaking, racked with sobs so intense that he made no sound, just shook his head, in denial. This couldn't be happening, not to Damon. He was too nice, too sweet. Someone like Conrad, someone who hurt people on a daily basis, he was the one who deserved to be put through such torture, not a sweet kid like Damon. "Oh god, no," he sobbed, his voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. His hand trembled as he brushed his finger's against Damon's cheek, feeling the blood, a wave of revulsion hitting him so strong that he actually closed his eyes from the force of it.

He seemed to come out of his shock a little at that moment, and realized that if Damon didn't get help, and fast, that he wasn't going to live to recount this experience. "Don't die on me," he begged Damon quietly, not sure if he was still conscious, only aware that he was alive because of the slight rise and fall of his chest, which was covered in severe burns. He wanted to do something himself, but knew that he was in too much hysteria to be of much use, so with shaking hands, he pulled his cellphone from his pocket and dialed 911, biting his lip as he waited for someone to answer. When they started to pester him with the usual, stupid questions, he lost control and just hissed, "Just get me a fucking ambulance unless you want to be responsible for murder!" and hung up before they had a chance to ask him otherwise. There had been no need to give an address - they could trace the call easily.

Then he really broke down, muttering incoherantly, cursing himself out, hating himself. His fingernails dug into his palm as he clenched his fists tightly, rocking back and forth, just barely hanging on to what was left of his sanity. He couldn't lose Damon, he just couldn't, it was impossible. The world was bad enough, surely it wouldn't tear Damon away from him too? "I'll kill that fucking bastard!" he snarled, then put his head in his hands and just cried.