It seems to be that we're only sad when we think people aren't looking. Elijah Mikaelson knows this all too easily. He'd spent years after finding Mary again trying to get over her, only to go back to Mystic Falls to try and get her back. Their affairs had only resulted in her pregnancy – and a child that he had no chance to raise.
It had been eight years since the birth of their son when Rose and Trevor found him in Paris, travelling with Kol and Rebekah. If only they'd been there to bring him something other than the news of Mary's death.
He'd tried to hide it from his siblings for as long as possible, to keep them out of his own personal hurricane of emotions so that he could process the information on his own. If they knew that the love of his eternal existence was dead, it would make the impossible fact so much more real, and it was hard enough to deal with it to begin with.
His efforts became pointless the moment he rejoined them inside the small cottage they'd taken residence in.
"We heard what Rose said."
It wasn't at all like Kol to be so quiet, so careful, to sound so unsure. Which meant it really must be bad. If Kol was tiptoeing around his brother's feelings, it meant that the quiet whisper of hope in the back of his mind was a lie, that his wishes and prayers that Rose and Trevor had been lying were no longer enough to keep the overwhelming grief at bay.
Even in the days that followed, he rarely showed emotion more than a forced smile of greeting when he had the strength to leave his bedroom, and the worry shining in his siblings' eyes turned into quiet questions whenever Kol thought he could get a word out of him. Elijah knew they were trying to do the right thing, to help him recover, but it didn't feel like anything they did would ever help him.
"We're not just going to let you grieve your life away, Elijah." Rebekah had a different way of handling the situation than their brother did – cold hard facts and a too calm disposition that only made him more on edge. "There is only one way you can get over Mary, and that's by facing the fact that she's dead and a little bit of vampire blood won't help her this time."
The tense silence that followed her words was concluded with the closing of Elijah's bedroom door behind him.
It took less than a fortnight for Kol to distract Niklaus enough so that Rebekah could drag their oldest undaggered brother across the sea to Mystic Falls. It surprised him that they would put in so much effort to just help him with his incurable grief, but he appreciated the effort nonetheless. Of course, his siblings' concerns and efforts didn't stop him from indulging in hiding away, pulling the old coin from his pocket to run his fingers over its metallic surface, imagining his love's fingertips doing the same centuries before when it belonged to her.
Unbeknownst to him, his sister watched ever move he made, a concerned frown pulling the corners of her mouth downward even in the carriage on their way to the Salvatore Estate. He was saddest when he thought she couldn't see him, his true emotions showing through in his private moments, and she chose to say nothing. If she did, it would only upset him more, and it would be the opposite of helpful.
He sat in the carriage for a moment before stepping out into the warm summer sun, the ring on his finger the only thing protecting him from the pain of the harsh rays. Part of him hated that the sun couldn't kill him, wanted to end all the grief and despair and let his siblings continue their lives without having to worry about him, but he knew there was someone he needed to see first.
It was Mary's husband who opened the door when he knocked, the same man who fired him years before while he was posing as a stable boy to get as close to his love as he could. "Mister Salvatore. I am deeply sorry to hear of your loss." Something flashed in Giuseppe's eyes at the Original's words, something like fury or rash anger, and he tried to brush it off. "I was only curious as to how your sons were dealing with it, surely Damon his having a hard time."
In truth, he didn't care much about how the youngest Salvatore was doing – Stefan hadn't known Mary for even two years before her death – but he did care about his own son, the one he'd met only once before he had to leave to protect them both from his brother.
"You haven't heard of all my loss yet, then." The words made him pause, and Elijah's blood ran cold. Losing Mary was enough, but now there was even more? Surely the universe was content with his suffering already. "Damon is dead. He died shortly after his mother did."
The vampire barely heard the door close from two feet away from him as he shakily made his way back to Rebekah and the waiting carriage, composing his features before she had the chance to see the return of his intense grief. If she saw how broken he was just from the two sentences he'd heard a minute before, he'd never hear the end of it.
"He didn't let you see him?"
Her question drew him out of his concentration, all of the emotion returning to his expression as he turned his gaze toward the window. "They're both dead." By some miracle, his voice remained steady as he spoke, and he dared to let himself knowingly take out the coin in Rebekah's presence.
She'd remained silent until the carriage started to move again, shouting and pushing the door open before the driver could react. "Stop!" At her strange behavior, Elijah turned his attention toward her and was immediately faced with the too-strong smell of blood. If someone inside the main house had cut themselves, it wouldn't have hit him so quickly, and it wasn't coming from that direction.
The distinct smell of human blood was coming from the barn.