A/N: No copyright infringement is intended.
So it had come down to this. Something inside of her had always known it would, that niggling thought in the back of her mind the moment she realized that she couldn't let Stefan go, vampire or not; the first time she'd seen Katherine's picture and glimpsed the twisted depths to which this story could go; when she understood that she cared enough about Damon to look beyond the people he'd abused and killed—people she knew, people she loved. There was always a part of her that knew she'd gone over the edge, that there was no way back.
She always knew there was no way she'd get out alive.
But she'd never imagined quite how it would end, or if she did, this wasn't what she'd pictured.
The warehouse was too dark at night, the floor dusty from disuse, joints from old machinery bare and easy to trip over even in the uneasy light that came with day. But it was quiet, and with the spell Bonnie had thrown up around its boundaries, it was the safest place in the world for them. That didn't mean it was really safe.
Despite the times each one of the group had talked to her, right from the start and through every battle, every loss, they'd never managed to convince her. They didn't know that, of course. She'd given up trying, mostly, letting them think that they'd won, that they were in this fight together. And you never knew—maybe there could have been a way out, a solution that wouldn't have ended up with the deaths of everyone she loved. That had been a fool's hope, and the deep, twisting ache inside of her had known that from the start, even as she'd buried it under the weight of the love of her protectors.
They'd reached the end now, and sometimes she thought maybe they felt it, too, though they didn't say it. There was only so long they could hide before they would be found—or even if they managed to escape, it would mean a lifetime of running, of hiding in filthy warehouses and empty houses, of stealing moments of life rather than living it. She saw the hopelessness in their eyes, though they still denied it, had looked at her like she was crazy for again bringing up the obvious this afternoon. She smiled sadly at the thought, thinking of her makeshift family, who protected her, no matter what it cost them.
"Elena, don't be ridiculous; we'll find another way." That was Bonnie, flipping through Emily's grimoire and her own meager beginnings, expecting to find an answer to a question that hadn't been faced before, or at least not in over 500 years, long before even Emily was born.
"There is no other way; you know that." Her voice sounded rough, and her throat was dry. She tried swallowing and found she couldn't.
"That's nuts; we're finally out of there, and safe, and you want to give them exactly what they want. That's nuts." Jeremy tried so hard to be the strong one, and he succeeded mostly, but he gave the game away when he muttered, "Don't ask me to lose you, too."
Elena didn't have a response to that, not one that would make him understand, so she just gave him a smile and thought to herself that this was right—by going, she'd be protecting him, looking out for him the way big sisters were supposed to. He'd understand that someday, and he'd grow up, and marry, and have children to teach about the insanity of the world. She'd never do any of that, but she'd long since given up that hope.
Matt was still having trouble with the whole "vampire" concept to begin with, and Caroline's relentless cheer, mixed with Tyler's assurances that werewolves were much simpler, really—no pesky immortality, no blood drinking, just a little supernatural strength and the need to be locked up once a month—didn't seem to be helping. He looked a little shell-shocked, but even he was standing his ground. "No way are we letting you go. Never going to happen."
She shook her head; she knew they felt the end coming, but they still didn't seem to understand. She supposed they couldn't, not really. How do you explain to people you'd grown up with, been alongside through all of the normal teenage rights of passage, that you have some other destiny? Or a destiny at all—normal teenagers didn't have mystical forces ruling their births and deaths. Looking around at the group, Elena smiled wryly. "Teenage normalcy" appeared to be long gone in this clique.
But, still—she'd had a mark on her since the day she'd been born, and she was only now realizing what that meant. It was her responsibility, or else one day soon they would catch up with the group, and everything would be over, anyway. By taking the brothers, the Originals had laid an ultimatum, and it was hers to answer.
That was why, in the dead of night, after assuring them all that she'd do nothing rash, she slipped the sheriff's stolen gun out of their weapons stash, left a note on top of the grimoire, and stole out of the dark warehouse.