Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters. Everything belongs to their rightful owners.

A/N: This story will be told in different point of views.

Survival of the Fittest

By Katharine Rose

Full Summary

Eight years ago, humans won the first war against the vampires and humans with help of the witches and werewolves. Now, the second war is raging on and it is stealing the life of humanity. The Council is destroyed by a group of vampires and the people of Mystic Falls need to build a new council from scratch. Somehow, Elena Gilbert becomes the new leader of The Council and she makes a decision that will not only astonish the people of Mystic Falls, but herself and Caroline Forbes as well.

At each passing moment, humanity is dying and humans must fight back. If they don't, humanity may become extinct. However, sometimes problems occur in war, problems that you cannot cease to exist. Those problems are triggered by bad decisions that people make. People die, people get hurt, people at your safe haven betray you, people keep secrets from you, and you sometimes fall in love with the enemy. Mom always said, "There is a fine line between love and hate." Dad always said, "Kill or be killed."

Both Caroline and Elena have to make important decisions in their life, decisions that will cause problems to happen in war. Some of the decisions are good decisions, others are bad decisions. Either way, they must decide whether to fight for their people or for love. But at the end of each day, the question they should be asking themselves is this: Which is more important? Love or sacrifice?

Chapter One

Elena

At the age of one years old, my father would always force me to drink vervain water and stash vervain in my pockets.

At the age of three, my father taught me how to properly stake a vampire. Jeremy would watch as I staked a dummy in the chest, waiting patiently for the time when it would be his turn to learn. The stake goes through the thick protection of layers of skin, through the rib cage, pass the lung, and into the undead, beating heart.

At the age of six, my father left my mom, Jeremy, and me to fight in the first war against the vampires and the humans. This war is called The War of Vampires. Before my dad left for the war, he gave me a silver antique necklace. Jeremy received a family ring, with the first letter of our surname engraved in the blue stone. Both of these jewelry are stashed with the sweet smell of vervain. A witch casted a spell upon these items and as long as Jeremy and I wear them, we will come back to life if a supernatural being murders us. We also can't be compelled.

At the age of eight years old, Jeremy and I found out that the humans won The War of Vampires with the help of the witches and werewolves. Now the millions of vampires around the world are searching for vengeance.

At the age of sixteen our father and mother were murdered in cold blood by a vampire on May 23.

And now at the age of eighteen, my father left the legacy for my brother and me to cease the living of vampires.

Although my father raised my brother and me to be tough, my father was like a soft teddy bear. If you asked me the first memory of my parents that I have engraved in my brain, I would have to answer with the memory of my father running down the long staircase each and every year for the anniversary of the Fourth of July. The Fourth of July was my father's favorite holiday, because that was when "we most revealed our pride for our country." If you haven't guessed already, my father was a nationalist. As he ran down the stairs excitedly like a child eager to receive Christmas gifts, he would jump off the staircase gracefully. When he landed perfectly on the hard wooden floor, with his feet slightly apart from each other, he would spread his hands out and scream, "Humanity, Humility, and Hope!" My mother would always shake her head at his childish acts and laugh. A light pink blush crept on the apples of her cheeks as she would sheepishly look down at her shoes. My father shouted those three words as if those words would change the world. He shouted them as if they were a cure to forget about the vampires fighting for control over the human race. He shouted those words with so much confidence, that I would always find myself believing every syllable he spoke. Everyone believed the words he spoke. I still believe in his words. I believe that humanity wins in the end; humility is what builds on humanity; and hope is what keeps our hearts beating.

Recently, however, with war approaching, I find that it is harder to believe in those words that whisper to me in the depths of the night. Ever since my parents' death, I feel as if there is a vast hole deep inside of my chest. No matter how many times I try to stitch it back together, it doesn't heal. There is a part of me who is gone and I don't know where to find it. I suppose my other half is hidden somewhere deep in Main Square, where my parents were murdered. But I refuse to enter within the streets of Main Square. I would rather have someone pull off my fingernails.

I walk inside of the abandon Mystic Fall's cemetery. I am glad that I am alone. The fall wind blows coolly on my skin and I am thankful I decided to wear my leather jacket. My eyes look up at the tall tree that illuminates boldly from the bright sun. The leaves turn into beautiful colors of orange, red, and brown. They fall down from the branches of the tree, gracefully, as though they were truly feathers and not leaves. I breathe in the Fall air. I now realize why Fall was my father's favorite season. Everywhere you looked, dark beauty surrounded you, in a way where you didn't feel alone. The cool air brings you to the realization that this is what life truly is. The crushing of the dead leaves beneath your feet allows memories to stick with you at each step you take. The whole season of Fall reminds me of my dad. It is as though my dad is still with me somehow. When the season of summer arrives, it is as though my mother is with me. I wonder if what season it is depicts upon when your deceased relative visits you.

When I reach the huge silver headstone with my surname engraved in huge, beautiful cursive letters, I feel warm tears. Gilbert. It has been about a month since I have last visited my parents' grave and I can't help but feel the dreadful feeling of guilt beat at the inside of my chest. Each time I catch sight of that damn headstone, I feel as if I am punched in the gut. I find it hard to breathe, as if the air around me ceases to exist in this time. Stupid tears poke at the rim of my eyes and I am angry at myself for feeling such emotions. I blink quickly, not wanting to cry. I tuck a strand of my loose hair behind my ear before kneeling down to the moist dirt. I feel the icy mud seep through my black workout capris. It somehow keeps me focus.

I take another deep breath of the Fall air. It calms me. I stare at the beautiful words engraved in the silver stone underneath my last name.

In Memory

Grayson Gilbert. Miranda Gilbert.

May 23, 2012

Loving Parents

I extend my pointer finger out and trace over the cool and smooth engravings of my parents' name. I do this over and over again until the tip of my finger turns numb. I open my mouth to speak, but my throat closes up as if someone wrapped their thick fingers around it. This stops the words from blurting out, words I don't even know I want to say.

The wind blows softly on me and the tall trees move with the wind. The dead leaves grind against each other and I like the sound. The branches of the tree and the leaves dance an elegant dance. In the distance, a crow croaks and I groan. If there is a creature that I hate more than the vampires, it is the crow. Whenever something horrible happens in my life, a crow sits there, croaking its ugly croak. It's beady eyes watch the events unfold and I swear, those damn crows enjoy whenever someone else is in pain. The croak of the crows sound as if they are dying from a horrible death and that sound only reminds me that death is circling around me, and that it will circle around me until the day I die. The stupid crow creaks out again in the distance and I clench my hands tightly into fists. My long, sharp fingernails dig into the soft flesh of the palm of my hands. I don't feel the sharp pain as I do so. A crow lands on my parent's headstone. I glare at it, clenching my jaw to the side. "Go away," I say behind clenched teeth. The crow stares at me in reply. It stares with a blank look, but I know the damn thing knows what I am saying. I stand up from the ground quickly. I wipe my hands on my black capris. I bring my hands out to shoo the ugly bird away. "Go away!" I yell at it. The crow creeks at me as if it is angry. I huff out an angry sigh. It flaps its wings and flies off. I watch as it flies and then settles its creepy feet on the branch of a tree. I look away from the crow and breathe out a long sigh. I lick at my dry lips and look back at my parents' headstone. I suppose this should be the part where I speak to my dead parents, but I don't know quite what to say.

"Are you proud of me, Mom and Dad? Are you proud that I shooed that ugly bird away from your headstone?"

I don't say that. Instead I clear my throat and say, "War is less than two weeks away and I'm scared." I speak casually in the air as if my parents were really beside me. My voice wavers slightly, but that is only because of my emotions that threaten to get the better of me. I feel my hand shaking and I think of other thoughts. "Dad, I know you got through this war thing, but I'm scared that I'm not going to be able to do it. I am scared that I am going to let people down. I am scared that people are going to die, because of my mistakes." What I will give to hear my father's reassuring voice, but of course, the only reply I get is the croaking of the stupid crow. "Please find a way to guide Jer and me. Find a way where Jeremy can at least be protected. I-"

The annoying ringing of my phone interrupts me. I quickly apologize to the air as I rummage my hand through the pocket of my leather jacket. When I feel the stiffness of my phone, I pull it out. I groan loudly when I see the caller I.D. Alaric. Dammit.

I clear my throat. I quickly think of an excuse that I can use in case he interrogates me. When I think of one about how Carol Lockwood needed me to test out vervain grenades, I answer the phone.

"I'm on my way now," I say roughly as I answer. I give one last look to my parents' headstone and speak into the phone again. "Carol Lockwood wanted me to-"

"You can't keep on doing this, Elena!" Alaric yells in the phone. That is my cue to hang up. I do so. Alaric will be even more pissed that I hung up on him, but he shouldn't yell at me. I walk out of Mystic Falls Cemetery. I turn around, giving myself one last look of the cemetery. When I do so, the crow stares at me. Its beady eyes stare into my eyes. I feel as if the crow is seeing straight into my soul and I squirm under its gaze. Soon, the crow flaps his wings and flies off into the distance. I shake the feeling of being watched off my shoulders and run to the gym were Alaric, my brother, and I prepare for war.

When I reach the gym, I hesitate on walking inside. I know that Alaric will be a dick to me and I am not really looking forward to that part of the day. However, I also know that if I don't go inside and face him soon, he will end up more pissed than he already is. I wipe my sweaty palms on my black capris and pull open the gym door with my hand. As I walk inside of the gym, Alaric and Jeremy's head pounces up to look at me. Alaric narrows his eyes as Jeremy offers me a small smile. Alaric stands with his muscular arms folded over his thick chest. I feel my eyes roll at his look. I know that all he is doing is to try to appear tough and mean, but if you know Ric like I do, you know he is nothing but a large teddy bear.

"I'm sorry." I peel off my leather jacket and throw it off somewhere randomly on the gym floor. In reply, I receive a more threatening glare. I gather all of my hair up in my hand. I want my hair up in a ponytail before we start practicing. If my hair stays down, it will get in my eyes, blocking me from fighting properly against Jeremy and Alaric. I pull my hair up high against my scalp and use my free hand to push down any bumps. I pull off the black hair tie that rests on my right wrist. I quickly tie it around my hair, creating a tight ponytail. "Carol wanted me to, uh, check on something."

The first rule about lying: don't forget what your lie is actually about.

"So doing something for Carol was more important than today's lesson? Today's lesson is on how to create a vervain grenade."

"I already know how to do that," I say, shrugging my shoulders. At the mention of vervain grenades, I remember my lie. I think back when my father taught Jeremy and me to make a vervain grenade and how to properly use it. I was thirteen and Jeremy was eleven. It was great bonding time. It was every kid's dream to throw a vervain bomb up into the sky. Well, getting injured in the process wasn't every kid's dream, but watching the vervain explode in the sky was exciting.

"Jeremy!" Alaric yells and I am angry that Alaric is yelling at Jeremy. However, before I know it, Jeremy is running to me with a clenched fist heading straight for my left eye. I let out a quick yelp and move to the right as quickly as I can. Jeremy's tight fist misses me from just a few inches. My heart slams against my chest and I clench my jaw to the side. "What the hell?" I scream out. Jeremy's eyes reach mine. They appear apologetic, however, he attempts to punch me again. Apologetic my ass. This time, I am fully aware of what is going on. I block his punch with my arm, pushing him back with all of the strength I can build up in my arms. Jeremy stumbles back and I think for a moment that he is going to lose his balance and fall, but he stands up and straightens himself. He offers me that goofy, brotherly smile of his he always gives me. It is a way for him to say that he is going to win. I roll my dark orbs and turn my attention over to Alaric.

"You have to always be on high alert," he says casually as if nothing has happened. I narrow my eyes at him.

Alaric Saltzman. He is not an easy guy to comprehend. He is Jeremy's and my vampire hunting instructor and our uncle. He has short sandy brown hair that is always set up in a plain style. He has dark hazel orbs that always have a spark in them, giving the appearance that they are smiling. However, if you look closely into his eyes, then you'll realize he has a story that he is hiding. I don't press on it. I understand the feeling of wanting closure and if anyone deserves closure, it is Ric.

Alaric has muscles that appear to multiply by each second of the day. I suppose that is one reason Aunt Jenna fell for him. I remember when she walked in on a lesson. It was about how to properly hold a stake. I didn't know that there were about five ways to properly hold a stake. Dad only taught us one. Anyway, we were learning outside in the forest, practicing on an ugly dummy. Jenna was searching for us, because Jeremy and I forgot to tell her where we were going. She of course threw a fit, screaming our names, stomping on the dry dirt of the forest. But when her green eyes met into Alaric's hazel ones, she instantly stopped screaming at us. A year later, they were married. Now Jenna is as happy as ever. Well, she would be happier if none of us have to go off into war, but that is just the way life is.

"You can't just show up late on the battlefield, because you know what would happen then? Your team, they will be dead and there will be nothing that you can do about it, because you would have been reckless and been late!" Alaric yells. His heavy footsteps walk towards me. I fold my arms over my chest. I huff out a long breath, knowing I will be hearing the complaints about how I was aloof and careless to the fact that the world war is only in two weeks I lick at my dry lips. I try to concentrate on Alaric's screaming, but the only thought I can focus on is that in two weeks, I might be one of the estimated 73.4% that might end up dead in this war. I know my number decreases as the government lowers the age of those who are to enter the war, but still. The thought is unnerving, like that one horror movie I watched last month.

"You have to pay attention and prepare for the real war out there!"

And here is the part where Alaric treats me as if I don't understand what the hell is going on in the world. I clench my hands into tight fists. I want to punch something. I want to tear something out with my teeth and destroy anything I see in sight. But I remember what my mom told me about controlling my emotions. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Just breathe. Just breathe.

"We have two weeks, Elena." Alaric begins to pace back and forth in the large gym. He brings both of his hands over his face and wipes at his face in long strokes, as if that would wipe away his uneasiness. He turns his eyes back at me. "You have to be physically prepared for this war and participating in cheerleading for two years isn't going to cut it."

I open my mouth to object. I open my mouth to say the most mind-blowing, fantastic comment I will ever make to anyone who exists. But, I can't think of anything logical to argue against what he said. It is true. The most athletic thing in my life that I have ever done was cheerleading. It wasn't like at cheerleading practice they had each of us line up to practice how to stake a vampire. However, the high kicks we learned are very helpful with punching someone in the abdomen or face.

Although my hair is tied up in a high ponytail, a strand of loose hair sticks to the side of my cheek, damp with sweat. I lick at my lips. My eyes feel tired. It is early in the morning and I want nothing more, but to fall asleep and never wake up. I study Alaric for a few moments. He breathes in and out unevenly. He keeps on brushing his long fingers against his scalp, pulling his hair back as he does. I narrow my eyes at him. Something is wrong.

"Is this about me or you?" I ask. I lean against the cool wall of the gym. It is blue and gold. Tacky colors. Alaric only glares with his eyes. He shakes his head and points his finger at me. "You." His voice is weak and I notice his eyes blinking more than necessary. He is being deceitful. I turn my head and look over at Jeremy. "Jer," I say, "I have to talk to Alaric."

"And why do I have to leave?" he protests.

"Jeremy," I say in a low voice. "Go. Check on Jenna. I think she's sick. She was throwing up this morning."

Jeremy clenches his jaw to the side. His dark eyes look up to the gym ceiling. He stares up there for a moment, as if the answers are engraved on the ceiling. He then looks back at me. He nods his head in reply and walks to the exit of the gym. When I hear the slamming of the door shutting close, signaling that Jeremy left, I look at Ric.

"Okay, what is it?" I ask. I bounce my body off the gym wall and walk towards Ric. Alaric folds his arm over his chest. He keeps his chin up high. His eyes look everywhere in the gym, but at me. I now stand in front of Alaric. I study his features, studying them in a way where his expression would reveal to me what is wrong. Luckily for him, he knows how to keep a poker face.

"Is it about the war? About the vampires?" He doesn't answer so I continue to speak. "If it is about that, don't worry. You know how to epically kill a vampire."

"It's not that," Ric whispers. This time he looks up so he can look me in the eyes.

"Is it - Is it Jenna?" I ask.

At the mention of Jenna, Alaric's eyes shoot down to his feet. He breathes in a deep breath and look up to me again. He doesn't say anything and I know something is wrong.

"What is it?" I demand. Alaric doesn't answer. He only stares at me. "Tell me, Alaric. Is she okay?"

"She's pregnant," he says. He runs his hand through his hair. I feel my mouth fall open. I think back of when Jenna was throwing up this morning. When I asked her what was wrong, she said nothing was.

I feel myself think. I do this whenever I am presented with a hard situation. I offer Alaric a small smile. I can imagine what he is feeling. He is probably worried about not being there for Jenna when she gives birth. He is probably worried of dying and never seeing her or his baby. He is probably worried that Jenna is going to be by herself during all of this. All in all, it is a sucky time for Aunt Jenna and Alaric to have a kid.

"Maybe - Maybe you could find a way to not go to war," I suggest. It is a horrible suggestion. I know it. Alaric knows it. But it is the only thing we have.

Ric shakes his left hand as he shakes his head. "No way in hell," he says.

I unfold my arms and pin them to my sides. "Why not?"

"I can't leave you and Jeremy alone. What kind of uncle would I be if I did that?"

I shrug my shoulders. "What kind of father would you be if you just abandon your wife and baby? Don't worry about us, Alaric. Jer and I know how to fight. We're badasses."

I notice a small smile pull up on Alaric's face, but it is quickly replaced with a frown. "It's not that simple, Elena. I should be with the rest of my people. I should help them fight."

I shake my head. "Your people are the people who you care about. The humans will be fine without you, Alaric. We have witches on our side. We have that creepy ass old lady that always knows our thoughts. We have people who are born to be hunters, Alaric. Jeremy is one of them. We will be fine. Have hope in us. Stay with your pregnant wife. It does not make you a horrible person if you do that."

Alaric bites at the corner of his lips. "I don't think you realize how The Council will not agree with this. They will force me to fight. They will force me to leave Jenna."

I place my hand on Alaric's arm gently. "Not if we convince them to have you stay. It is still early in the day. In two hours you and me are going to The Council. We are going to convince them that you need to stay with your wife. If that doesn't work, we bring guns."

Alaric laughs. Wrinkles form on his forehead and at the corners of his eyes. Alaric nods. His lips are still up in a smile when he says, "Your parents would be so proud."

I reply with a simple nod. Hearing someone else speak of my parents allows realization to set in that they are fully gone. I stare at Alaric for a single moment and bite at my lip.

"Let's go. I hear Jenna is going to make Parmesan chicken tonight. I don't want to miss it, so let's hurry and speak with The Council."

Alaric raises an eyebrow at me as he and I walk to the spot where I threw my leather jacket. I pick it up and push my arms through the sleeves. I adjust the jacket and walk to the exit of the gym. "Oh, so you heard I was going to make Parmesan chicken tonight," Ric says, putting emphasis on the word I.

I laugh when Alaric says that. Jenna never cooks. Alaric is the one who does. I should have known that Jenna was lying to me when she said she was planning to cook dinner.

"Well, then I expect it to be the best Parmesan chicken I will ever have."

Ric nods his head. "Of course and Elena?" Alaric stops walking and he turns his head to me. I stop walking as well. "Yeah?" I say as I look over to him.

"Your parents are not just proud of you. I am as well."

Alaric made the rash decision of walking to The Council Hall and I made the rash decision of agreeing with him. He thought that it would be a great way to get our thoughts planned out on what we were going to say; however, in the end, it began to thunder and rain. Alaric and I walk in silence beside each other. Both of us are damp and freezing. I kick a single, small pebble. I shiver as the cool rain damps my clothes and hair. I turn my head and look up at Alaric. My face is set in a glare. I fold my arms over my chest and think about what my father would do in a situation like this. Well, for starters, my father would have known if it was to rain or not. He could just tell my looking up at the sky. I suppose Alaric and I are naïve. We need to pay more attention to the warning signs of nature before we hop on a train down to hell. Secondly, my father would have been against the idea of Alaric not wanting to go to war. My father believed that if you went off into war, fighting for your people and your country, then you were a hero. No matter how many times my brother, my mom, and I begged my father to stay, he refused, saying the only way to protect us was if he went off into war. My mother would be for the idea of Alaric staying home with Jenna. Mom knew how hard it was for Jenna to even raise a puppy on her own. God can only imagine what it would be like to Jenna to raise a baby. I shudder at the thought.

"Oh, don't have that frown on your face," Alaric says. I turn my head to the left to look away from him. In the distance I can see the small Council Hall. I think about running, but I know I will trip from the slick road.

"So, what's the plan?" I ask a few minutes after Alaric's comment of my frown.

Alaric turns his head to me. His damp hair sticks to the side of his face like mine does. He raises an eyebrow at me and folds his arm over his chest as he walks. "I thought you were the one who was filled with all of the plans."

I roll my eyes at his comment. "Unfortunately today, I allowed you to decide on us walking to The Council Hall. Now look what happened."

"Oh, enjoy the nature," Alaric says and chuckles.

"I'll enjoy it when I am not shaking like a leaf," I deadpan. "Anyway, I think we are just going to improv. We use their emotions for our benefit. We make them cry."

"I don't think Richard Lockwood and you Uncle John are the crying type."

I groan at the mention of my uncle. My uncle is such an asshole and I like to pretend that he is non-existent. "They might not cry, but Carol and Liz will. Believe it or not, but through that cold heart of Carol, there is actually a real life human being.

Alaric laughs a short laugh. He rolls his hazel orbs as I speak, as if I am speaking nonsense. Speaking about Carol actually being a human being with human being qualities is a bit nonsense, but it is true. If you think about it, the world is filled with nothing but nonsense. A smile creeps upon Alaric's lips. "We persuade them. I use my charm."

I shake and I begin to feel my teeth chatter. "You have charm?"

Ric nods his head. "How'd you think I got Jenna?"

I shiver again. The Council Hall is a few feet away. "I really don't want to hear about the 'charm' you used on Jenna. Right now, we have to focus on what we are going to do. We have to be logical and make The Council understand."

Alaric and I stop speaking to each other. In a short few moments, we stand in front of The Council Hall. I breathe out a shaky breath and wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. I extend my hand out to touch at the cool, steel door handle. I turn my head to look over at Alaric. "Are you ready, Ric?" But before he can answer, I open the door. The door creaks in protest and a blast of cool air blows on me. I feel myself shiver as I walk inside the building. Warmth surrounds me and Alaric walks in behind me. The door closes with a bang and I look straight ahead at Mrs. Ritts. I hear water drip onto the ground and Mrs. Ritts looks up at Alaric and me. Her face is alarmed. Her hair is pulled back in a tight bun and I wonder if she pulls her hair back so tight to hide the wrinkles that are forming at the corner of her eyes. If that is the reason, it is not working. I offer her a smile and open my mouth to speak, but she speaks before me.

"Oh, dear. Why are you dripping wet?"

I turn around and point outside. "It's raining pretty bad," I say in the nicest way I could muster.

"I see."

I nod my head awkwardly, wanting to have this conversation get to an end. "Alaric I would like to speak with The Council." I think this is the first time that I have used my nicest and fakest voice.

I rest my palms on Mrs. Ritts desk. I continue to smile at her and she looks over my shoulders to Alaric. She smiles widely at him. She nods her head and looks back at me. She brings her hand up to her slight gray hair and smooths it down. "Alright. They are in the main room. You know where that is, Elena?"

I nod my head. I have gone inside of this building since I was a toddler. I give Mrs. Ritts another small smile. "Thank you," I say and turn to look at Ric. I wave my hand at him, motioning for him to follow me down the long hall. Alaric does so.

On the outside of The Council Hall, it appears nothing more to be but a small mayor building. However, when you enter inside of the building, you realize that there is more to the building than just looking small and delicate from outside. Inside of The Council Hall, there are hundreds of weapons that are used specifically against vampires. Most of the vervain that we use is farmed in a small room, somewhere deep inside of the building. Guns, crossbows, and grenades are packed up in millions of boxes in the storage room. Those weapons will soon be shipped off around the world to countries who need those weapons to fight against the vampires. In return, we receive food, clothing, and whatever supplies we truly need. It is strange to think that in the past, people were against each other, however, when we all have the same enemy, we search for the guidance of each other. We stick together like wolves and hope that each and everyone of us can get through this horrible time.

"Here's the plan," I whisper to Alaric as we walk. "Leave it to me to talk. You just look at Carol and Liz. Show your pain."

Ric scoffs. I turn my head to look at him again. "Oh, come on. They would love it."

Alaric shakes his head. I ignore him and reach the silver door where The Council are together, having a secret conversation. I open the door. It creaks slowly and I force my legs to walk within the room with the rest of The Council. Each of the members of The Council are sitting upon expensive white cushioned chairs. The room is decorated with white, gold, and silver. There is a couch that is at the corner. It is white with a rose pillow resting in the middle of the couch. The flooring is a dark wooden mahogany color. Over the shining wooden flooring is a long, plush white carpet. I come to the realization that this is Carol's design. I swallow. I suddenly have the feeling of déjà vu. I remember when my father brought me here when I was younger. That was when he was part of The Council. Once Dad died, Uncle John took over. When Uncle John dies, I will take over.

Once Richard Lockwood's dark eyes lay upon us, he stands tall. He is in his normal attire. He wears a dark suit. He pats his palms on his clothes to straighten out his suit. His eyes meet mine and he opens his mouth to speak.

"Elena, Alaric, we were not expecting you." If anyone besides Richard or John spoke that sentence, it would have sounded polite.

I see Carol glare at her husband. She looks at Ric and me. She stands from her fancy cushioned chair and pats at her pink skirt. "It is good to see you two. What can we do for you?"

I look at John. He stares at me. I stare back. He's wearing black suit pants and a dark royal blue shirt. His blue orbs look away from me when he realizes I caught him staring. I then look over at Liz. She has that motherly vibe. I suppose it is because she is the mother of one of my best friends. Caroline. Liz is in her sheriff uniform and her smile fades as she looks up at Carol.

"Alaric and I are here to talk with each of you," I say politely.

Carol nods. "Well, please," she says, her hand gesturing to the free chairs beside John, "take a seat."

I slowly shake my head in reply. "We are both damp from the rain. I don't want to ruin your beautiful chairs."

Carol smiles. The only thing she got out of my decline was that I complimented her chairs.

I clear my throat, feeling as if my throat closed up. Carol sits back down on her cushioned chair and I open my mouth to speak. "I don't know if any of you know this, but my Aunt Jenna is pregnant."

Liz smiles at Ric. Carol nods her head in approval. I bet she is already planning a baby shower, although war is approaching. I hear John scoff in the distance and I want to go over to him to punch him in the face. Richard stares at me for a moment. He is thinking of where this is leading to.

"Congratulations, Alaric," Liz says.

I look over at Alaric. He nods his head at Liz. He thanks her as I unfold my arms. I pin them to my side. "I am glad you guys are happy for Alaric and Jenna. I am happy for them as well, but there is a great problem." I try to make my voice sound dramatic. I hint it with emotion. I hint it to show that Alaric needs help. I hint it to show that I need help for my aunt. "Jenna will not be able to get through this on her own. She is still affected by my parents' death. She has gone through a deep depression and she needs her husband with her through this hard time. It is hard on her that her niece and nephew are going to be sent off to war, but her husband too? The same husband that brought a little light into her world."

"Elena," Richard breathes out my name. I stare at him. I can feel the rejection bubbling in my chest. "The death of Grayson and Miranda Gilbert affected many people, not just in Mystic Falls, but all over the country. People looked up to your dad, and you know what you are hinting is something that your father would be against."

"My father was all about the war," I say. I take a step closer to The Council. I know I am stepping into important boundary, but I don't care. "My father forgotten about family and it would be inhumane if you forget about that as well. Jenna needs Ric. Jenna is sick and I know she is only going to get worse. Alaric wants to be with his wife. He has the right to be with his wife. We have a great amount of people fighting in the war already. We have witches on our side and we have people who are destined to be vampire hunters. I guarantee that we will be victorious when it comes with fighting with the vampires."

Richard is silent for a moment. He still stands tall and I wonder if he stands to show his status of authority. The silence that fell upon us keeps me with a feeling of uneasiness. I feel like shouting at Richard. I feel like shouting and begging him to answer. But soon enough, Richard shakes his head. "Alaric is one of our best in the field of vampires. He knows how to wipe them out and he has great ideas that can be a great advantage to us. He is going to be in the war. I refuse to lose him."

I feel anger run through my veins at Richard's reply. I take another step. "Alaric has a choice in the matter. When my father was in The Council, he gave people that choice."

This is when John stands. John holds his head up high and I want to stab my nails into his flesh and watch him bleed. "Your father is no longer in The Council. I am. I agree with Richard. Alaric is going to war."

"You are not giving him a choice," I argue. "He is his own person and he has the right to decide where his fate ends up."

John nods. "He has a choice." I feel hope shoot up through my bones. It feels like a great warmth spreading throughout my body and I begin to think that John is not the awful man that he truly is. "He has the choice of going to war with us or being locked in jail." And then in an instant, as if someone snapped their fingers, I hate John again.

"You can't send me to jail for not wanting to fight in this war." Alaric defends himself and I am proud of him for doing so.

John nods his head again. He looks like a bobble head, especially with his overly large head. "Of course I can. The Council from each state and each country, decided that a person ought to go to war. If not, they will be thrown in jail and considered a traitor. Possibly, they might be beheaded. But that is only if you are charged with treason."

I clench my jaw to the side as Alaric speaks. "I have done much for you guys. I built those vervain grenades. I taught people how to fight against vampires. I created weapons. You have no charge of treason when all I want is to be with my wife."

"Alaric, you are a smart man," Richard says. "You know we have to think of what is best for our people."

Alaric huffs out an angry breath. I clench my jaw to the side. I am speaking before I even realize what I am speaking. "I will not fight in the war then. Charge me with treason and cut off my head or hang me or do whatever you want with me. I refuse to fight."

"Elena," Alaric whispers. I realize I took this way too far, but I don't care. "No, Alaric," I say. "I have made up my mind. If The Council is too selfish to accept the fact that you have a choice, then they can lose another person to fight in the war. I will happily die for my beliefs."

I fold my arms over my chest. I narrow my eyes at each member of The Council. I then allow my eyes to travel on Richard and John. I glare at each of them. "I will not be apart of your games. If you do not give Alaric the right to have the freedom to choose if he wants to fight in the war or not, you will not just lose him, but men as well."

John walks to me. "You think you can threaten The Council?" he says between clenched teeth.

"No, I think I can offer a deal. That is what I am doing. You take it or leave it." I lick at my dry lips. "Allow me to remind you that my brother Jeremy is destined to be a real vampire hunter." I feel a smirk pulling up on my lips. "You really think he would want to fight for your side if murder his uncle and his sister? And what about my friend, Bonnie? She is a witch and a very powerful witch at that. You think she would want to help if you cut off the head of her best friend. People will turn against you. It will be like a domino effect."

Richard begins to walk to me. I have the feeling of fleeing away and move far away as humanly possible from Richard, but I stand still of where I am standing. My arms are still folded over my chest and I shiver from the cold air. I clear my throat. "I don't think you understand, Elena."

I laugh out a bitterly, cold laugh. "No, I don't think you understand, Mayor Lockwood." I spit out his name as if it is poison. "The Council only thinks of themselves."

"The Council," Richard says, raising his voice, "thinks of what is right. When you are the leader of The Council, you will understand. We have a war in a few weeks and in those short few weeks, thousands of people will die all over the world." I swallow the lump in my throat as Richard speaks. I grind my teeth together tightly. "I am not risking for one of my men to back out, because he wants to be with his wife when she gives birth. We have to think about the whole human race, not one person. It is hard to be a leader, Elena. It is one of the hardest things to do. You have to make hard decisions and one day, you will be forced to make them too. I am making a hard decision now and I am standing upon it. Leaders do what they think and feel is best for their people and this is what I feel and think is best."

Ric scoffs at Richards words. As he does, I hear a ticking noise. It is in the distance. However, I don't pay much attention to it. "People think of The Council brave," I say, "but you know what each of you really are? Each of you are cowards."

"That is enough, Elena!" John yells at me. I shake my head. I breathe out an angry breath. I walk to my uncle. I narrow my eyes at him as my jaw clenches. The beeping gets only louder.

"You, John, you're worse than all of them. You hide behind the job as being on The Council."

"Elena," I hear Richard voice warn to me. I glare at him, shaking my head. My anger radiates off me. I have never felt so angry about something before in my whole life. I wasn't even that angry when my father went off to war. I guess it is because I realize that The Council manipulates us. That's all they do.

I open my mouth to speak. The ticking gets louder. Then it stops completely. Before I can get a word to crawl out of my lips, a high-pitch scream replaces it. There is the loudest sound in the distance and suddenly, I am surrounded by fire. I feel smoke slither down my throat and attack at my lungs. The floor I now lay on begins to collapse and I feel as if I am falling. I grip my fingers tightly on the dark wooden floor. I see spots all over. Alaric is screaming my name. He is somewhere, but it sounds as if he is far away. His voice is muffled from my heavy heartbeat.

I try to push myself up from the large hole in the floor, but I am weak. My palms start to build the moist liquid of sweat. "No," I whisper to myself. I can feel my fingers beginning to lose grip. I hear screaming. I hear moaning and groaning. I wonder if I should just let go completely. I wonder if dying would just save me from the horrible future that is yet to come. But before I completely let go of the dark wooden flooring, I feel cold fingers wrap around my wrist. My heart jumps at the connection with hope. I feel my body being pushed up to The Council room. I feel dizzy and lightheaded. I look up. My eyes catch sight of hard icy blue eyes. I furrow my eyebrow. Before I know it, I am laying on the cold hard wooden floor again. I don't think twice about the person who saves me. I regret that.

I scream out Alaric's name. I notice he stopped calling me and I am filled with the instant feeling of worrisome.

"Alaric!" I cough out. It feels as it my lungs are closing in upon each other.

In that single moment, it feels as if the world froze completely. I wonder if time stopped and if this is some type of hell. Are there different types of hell Everywhere it is hot. It is hot all around me and I hear the spitting of fire racing around me. I feel the fight in me ceasing to exist. My eyelids begin to droop. I want nothing more than to close my eyes and never wake up again. But I know I can't. I turn my head. I feel pain when I do that. Richard is on the floor. He is unconscious. Fire licks up his flesh slowly and tears sting at the rim of my eyes. I smell burnt flesh. It is the worst smell I have ever smelled in my whole entire life. I push my body as far away from Richard's. Fire races to me. I have to move quick. My heart slams against my chest. My eyes burn horribly from the smoke. I cough. I try to speak, but the only sound that comes it is a croak. Dammit. I am beginning to sound like a damn crow.

Alaric," I whisper. I force my body to stand. Dark spots tease my vision and I feel like at any moment I am going to pass out and never wake up. I am surrounded by darkness and smoke. The air feels so thick and I have the stupid thought that if I brought my knife, I could have cut the atmosphere and entered into light, away from the darkness. "Alaric!" I find the willpower in me to scream. I think of where he could be. Alaric has to be somewhere. He has to be alive. Please be alive.

My eyes begin to fight with me. The lack of oxygen in my body is starting to mess with me. I feel as if all of the blood rushed to my head and it is making it difficult to walk. I hear coughing. I follow the sound of the coughing, because it is the only real sound that someone is alive rather than me. The coughing continues and then I hear wheezing. Soon, I realize the coughing and the wheezing is coming from me.

There is laughing in the distance. Why do I hear laughing?

I fall down to the ground, landing on my back. The fight in me gives up. I can't move. My body won't allow me to. I groan. I feel tears falling down my cheek as the hissing of fire gets closer and closer to me. I try breathing. I try fighting. I try to allow my eyes to stay open. I try to keep my mind conscious, but it is too late. The laughing only gets louder and the dark swoops underneath me, pulling me into the world of oblivion.

Ever so slowly, the world comes into focus like the way a photograph does after it is printed. My eyes slowly blink. There is a bright light that hangs from a white ceiling. I immediately close my eyes from the harsh light. I feel a groan escape from my chapped lips and I feel something wrapped around my arms and something on top of my mouth. I feel my eyebrows furrow and that is when I hear someone say my name.

"Elena."

It is Jeremy's voice.

I force myself to open my eyes. The light is still bright, but I allow my eyes to adjust to it. A hand is settled on my arm and I force my head to turn to the right. The honeysuckle brown eyes of Jeremy's meet mine. He smiles at me, but slowly, his smile falters, as though someone washed it off. I swallow. My throat feels dry as sand and I yearn for a cold glass of water. I look away from Jeremy and try to focus on where I currently am. I do not recognize any of this. I do not recognize the glass walls that surround me like a cube. I do not recognize the small steel chair in the corner of the room. I do not recognize the soft bed I lay on. I do not recognize the smell. Where the hell am I?

Outside of the glass walls, I see my friends watching me with concern. Bonnie's green eyes are filled with unshed tears. She smiles as she watches me. Her light carmel face has red blotches and I know she had been crying. Caroline is beside her. Unlike Bonnie, her face is pale and she is crying. Her bottom lip wobbles and she turns around and seeks comfort from Bonnie. And lastly, Matt. Matt's blue eyes stares at me and I stare back for a moment. He places the palm of his hand on the glass wall, a way to show wanting. I quickly look away from Matt and look back to Jeremy.

I try to sit up, but as I do so, Jeremy places his hands gently on the tips of my shoulders. He pushes me back down to the bed and pins me there. He removes his hands from my shoulders and place them back on my arm. He rubs my smooth skin and I look down at my arm. There is an IV in my arm and I stare at it confused. I try to think back to what happened, but everything is blank. I feel as if something happened in a story and I turn the page and there is nothing but a blank page. Is this the blank page?

"You have to rest," Jeremy speaks softly to me. The thing on my face feels weird. I don't like it. I bring my hand up to my mouth and feel an oxygen mask. My hand moves quickly away from the mask as if it is on fire. And then instantly, as quickly as my hand backed away from the mask, the thought of what happened rushed through my mind.

"A-Alaric." My voice croaks like a frog as I speak. It hurt to speak and I feel tears prick at the rim of my eyes. I remember the fire. I remember the ticking sound. I remember the explosion. I remember the groaning and the moaning. I remember the horrible laughing. I cough into the oxygen mask. My lungs feel as if they are on fire as I remember the thick gray smoke that surrounded me.

"Alaric is alive," Jeremy confirms, his voice filled with relief. I force myself to nod my head, but I stop because pain quickly erupts down my neck.

"What hap-happened?" I don't know why I ask Jeremy what happened. I already know what happened. I suppose I just need someone else to say it. I need to hear it from someone else, because all of this feels surreal. I don't believe any of this.

Jeremy looks up at the ceiling. He stares up there for a moment or two. He then looks back down at me. He takes in a deep breath as if that would give him the courage to speak. "Vampires attacked The Council, Elena."

I swear my heart stops beating at his words. I don't believe him. It isn't possible. "What?" I croak out.

"Vampires sneaked in The Council Hall. They planted a big grenade in the heart of the building. John, Richard, Mrs. Ritts and other workers are all dead. Carol and Liz are alive, but severely injured. Vampires are marching within Mystic Falls as we speak. Luckily, we are the few hundred that got to safety before the vampires killed us."

Although it hurt, I cleared my throat. "I - What is this place?"

"It is a shelter that The Council had built. We should be safe here."

My eyebrows furrow in confusion. None of this is making sense. "I-I don't understand," I say. I lick at my dry lips. Jeremy blinks his eyes a few times. He rubs his hand up and down on my arm smoothly. Before he speaks, he breathes out a long breath as if that will prepare me for what he is about to say.

"Elena, the war has begun."

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