...

"Okay, we're done here for today. Thank you all."

Caroline smiled and shook her assistant's hand as she walked out of the studio. Only a few more things to do in her office and she'd be ready to go home. She sighed a sigh of relief when she could finally take off her tightly tailored jacket and felt like she could breathe again.

Until she couldn't. Out of nowhere, something, someone had grabbed her neck and shoved her against the wall of her small office. She was starting to put up a fight, and scratching her opponent's face till she drew blood, when it fully sank in who it was.

"Still as fierce as a wildcat, Caroline Forbes." Klaus let go of her slowly, a smug smile on his face as he nursed his red cheek. She glared at him.

"Klaus!" She spat his name like it was a curse word. "What the hell did you do that for?"

She busied herself with some papers on her desk, pretending she was calm enough to actually pay attention to anything she was doing, but it didn't look like he even cared. He followed her over and sat down at the corner of her desk, watching.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me." His soft voice made her pause. She glanced at him. He seemed to be sincere. "I was a little… inconvenienced back then-"

"Oh ya? How so?" she challenged.

But he only smiled and said, "Let's not talk about me, Caroline."

Gosh, she loved it when he said her name like that. And that accent of his. She scrunched up her face without realizing it and berated herself for even thinking about him that way. Why, oh why did Klaus Mikaelson still have such an impact on her? Wasn't it enough that she kind of stood between two men and another woman? Did she really have to add him back into the mix?

Then again, that last one was totally Stefan's fault!

"My old friend Stefan informed me that you could use my services… and of course I was happy to oblige. It's always good to have an excuse to come see you, Caroline. Although I can't say I missed this boring little hometown of yours…"

She glared at him, annoyed - and maybe the tiniest bit turned on? Stop it stop it stop it! She chided herself. This was not good.

"So… would you like me to do what Stefan suggested I do?"

"We can say it, you know? It's called turning someone. He asked you to turn me back into a vampire."

He grinned. He licked his lip suggestively. "And?"

"And what?"

"You know, I don't normally get requests like that. And I wouldn't come for just anyone…"

"I…" Caroline was suddenly shy. She didn't know what to say, or think.

There were the girls she needed to think about. And Stefan, now human. Alaric too… Elena and Bonnie… All these people that needed her and that were so important to her.

Then there was the world outside; her present company. An acute feeling that this wasn't all, yet, not enough.

Klaus had stood up from the table. He was now standing right in front of her, his breath touching her hair. She could feel his body's heat, could see his heart beat under his shirt. A gasp escaped her.

"What is your decision, Caroline?"

...

After Alaric had picked Josie and Lizzie up, Jo found herself standing in front of her bedroom mirror, zoning out. She had to go work her shift soon, but something kept her rooted to the ground.

This life… it didn't feel like she was meant to live it. At first, being back had been startling, but great. She had gotten a second chance and she had been so relieved, so overwhelmed with joy to learn that her babies had miraculously, magically survived. Their lives as a family of five had been glorious, but short lived.

What had followed after… Nothing could have prepared her for it and nothing could have made it better. It wasn't Caroline's fault, she was great, and the girls loved her, probably a little too much. But Jo wished her gone nevertheless.

She wished her gone so that she and Alaric and the twins could live their happily ever after in peace.

As it was, she felt stretched thin between her job and being a part time mom. Being a mom at all felt so… strange somehow. And she often felt like an afterthought to the story of the girls' lives. Like she didn't really belong.

Earlier, when the two had kept going on and on about how they had played princesses over at their "other mommy's" home, she had started to get such an awkward feeling, like she was going to vanish somehow. It had started in her arms, and had crept slowly up from there. Like a cancer. An ugly feeling.

Now, in front of the big mirror, she shoved her sleeves up, she didn't really know what she expected to see, a rash maybe? Hives, caused by too much stress?

She swallowed hard as she looked at herself. She tried to keep in the sob that wanted to escape.

Something really wasn't right and she didn't know what to do or who to talk to about any of it. Her arms… they were looking the slightest bit translucent.

...

Unspecified past

...

The sun shone a little too bright. He closed the blinds, just a bit, with a swift movement of his hand. Then he proceeded over to where his subject lay waiting on the table.

It was a beautiful day. He'd have to attend the Father-Daughter-Dance tonight, but until then, there was still a lot of time, and he was looking forward to an outlet for all his pent up energy.

"How are you today, Enzo?" He said with an air of a casual conversation. "It's beautiful out there. But I guess you've noticed."

He loved this little play. Pretending to be friendly, when it was all clear to both him and his subject that he was only taunting.

The vampire's skin looked charred on the side that had faced the window, and Grayson had taken out a set of tweezers to work on slowly prying off pieces of dead skin.

"Dead skin," he mused, "technically, all your skin should be considered dead, seeing as you're not actually alive in the true sense of the word." Grayson looked into Enzo's shuttered eyes. He sighed. If he was being honest with himself, his work with the vampire had lost a bit of its spark. It was too hard to get a reaction out of him these days, unless they used extreme measures. Then again, Grayson lived for the extreme, didn't he? And only by being willing to go the extra mile did he get the satisfaction out of his job that he so craved.

The subject's ear and left cheek were now picked clear of all burnt flakes. The flesh underneath was shiny and raw, Grayson stared at it for a while, lost in thought. Mesmerized by the beauty of the human body.

"Let me confess something, Enzo. Just between you and me…" He took the tweezers and tore at a stubborn sinew. That did get a reaction out of the subject, an almost scream, not quite. But he would scream. Sooner or later, he would. It was always like that. If not from being torn apart, then by being shocked with electricity, burnt by the sun, or acid, or by being locked up with deadly beasts of some sort, or by the adverse reactions to some of the medications and biological warfare they tested.

Someone had recently started to develop a sort of virus that'd make the vampires feed on themselves rather than humans. But that proved to be a difficult task and so far, the results had not been very promising.

"I'm very grateful that you vampires are part of my life. - I know, I know," he said as if Enzo had said anything, "Shouldn't it be the opposite? After all, we set out to hunt you all down and eradicate you. But," Grayson lifted a finger, "if it weren't for you, I couldn't get this… urge out of my system. With you… it's like a gift from god. He gave me you so that I could hurt someone and kill them over and over and over without turning into a bad man. See, you can't kill humans or you're considered a murderer, evil. You know that… even if you kill bad people, you're still a murderer. But for me, with you… it's a true pleasure to see you suffer. And I want to thank god for that. And you. Thank you, Lorenzo St. John."

He smiled as the vampire stared at him. There was something in his gaze now, Grayson wasn't quite sure what it was, but it pleased him nonetheless. A mixture of repulsion, disgust, and shock, perhaps? He returned to work on the subject's face, then went on to examine the rest of his body. He had an odd need today, a need for blood. He looked at the tray to his right and chose a nice new scalpel.

Elena was so excited about tonight's dance. Her crimson dress had been all the talk for the last few weeks. Every evening after dinner she had been on the phone with one of her friends, Bonnie, or Caroline, and talked about how she was going to get elected queen of the dance, and Matt, of course, would be her king. He chuckled. He couldn't wait for their first dance together, for her beautiful smile to light up as she entered the ballroom.

His girl, she was slowly growing into a woman. And while it was bittersweet, he was so excited to see her explore this amazing world.

The scalpel in his hand had a nice heft to it. Not too flimsy. He adjusted its position on the bare skin of his subject's shoulder, and with a satisfyingly easy and deep incision, he ran the little instrument down the arm, all the way to the palm of the hand. There was a decent amount of blood.

But unfortunately, not the slightest admission of discomfort on the subject's part. Grayson frowned in annoyance.

He needed more.

...

Now

...

"Enzo!" Bonnie had called his name multiple times already, trying to wake him up out of what appeared to be a nightmare, but it wasn't working. She was starting to get really really worried. He just wouldn't wake up.

She had come home to him having fallen asleep on the couch after a long work night with Damon at the bar. She had let him sleep there while she went about her studies, every so often shooting a glance in his direction, checking whether he was still sleeping. Then she had returned her attention to the text in front of her.

She had brought home a big book that Alaric had found, Planes of Existence, and had started reading it on the sofa chair next to her boyfriend, hoping for new insights into what might have happened to them all, and what Grams might have alluded to. She still felt that inner sense of doom, and that something bad was going to happen.

After a while, though, she got distracted. Enzo's sleep had become very uneasy. He clenched his jaw, as if he was in pain, and she heard him moan out a few times, and push down on the couch with his hands as if he was… bound.

"Enzo?" She said it gently at first, just a whisper. She repressed the urge to touch him because she was afraid it might only agitate him further. But then he never showed a sign of waking up and she just got too worried about him. "Babe, please wake up. Enzo. Enzo?"

She looked at his troubled face and tears started welling in her eyes. She couldn't help but feel responsible for what he was going through. Of course she had known for a long time about his troubled past, and while he didn't like to talk about it all that much (she didn't blame him), it had never seemed to affect him as much as after he had come back to life as a human.

She gently stroked his hair. "Please, Enzo, please wake up…"

When her fingers lightly touched his cheek, he startled her by suddenly shooting up into a sitting position so fast she could have sworn he still had his vampire traits. He was breathing erratically as he looked at her, taking her in. His eyes were wide, his stare intense.

"Enzo… you're alright. It's me. You're with me." She smiled a small smile, but her face was still scrunched into a worried frown.

He raised a hand to cup her chin as his breaths slowly evened out.

"I'm sorry, love. Did I…" He fell silent. Confusion crossed his features.

"Enzo?" Bonnie had sat down next to him. One leg dangling down, she leaned forward and grabbed his arm. Was that…

They both looked down to see red spread through his left sleeve, all the way from top to bottom. In one long line, the color seeped out and saturated the fabric quickly.

Bonnie's breath caught. "Oh my god!" Panic rose inside of her, as Enzo grimaced in pain.

"Well, this is certainly the most life changing nightmare I've had…" he joked, but it fell horribly flat as he saw his blood drip onto the cushions…

...

The lake was quiet at this time of day. Quiet and peaceful.

She had left a note for him. She bit the inside of her cheeks as she thought about it. He might hate her for this. For the stupid note. Tears ran down her face. She didn't want him to hate her, but this was just too much for her. The constant nightmares of hell, and everything that had gone wrong in her life. It was just too much.

People always wished for second chances. And third and fourth chances. They could never give up on life. She had been like that. She had bargained for another chance. But now that her wish had been granted, she hated every minute of it.

Gosh, she had tried. Had pretended. Hung out with the girls. Traveled to see Jeremy. All she remembered from that trip was the shock and pain in his face. Like he had finally been done mourning and had moved on, and then she brought back some of the buried feelings and all the hurt had suddenly been back in his life, rather than the joy.

No. She felt like a burden, like a mere shadow walking in the sunlight, slowly being obliterated. This was not her place anymore. This was only pain. This was hell.

With a last long inhalation she slowly walked into the water, it was cold around her bare ankles. She walked in deeper and deeper, until she could wave her arms through the cold, until her mouth touched the waterline. Then her nose.

The first breath was hard. She had to overcome her fear, her body's urge to struggle upward.

Then the water started filling her lungs. A strange feeling. A horrible feeling. She needed to get up. Up!

She needed to let go…

It was already too late when she changed her mind yet again. "Matt," she thought, "Oh why?"

...

They were laying in bed together, Damon after a long night spent with Enzo at the bar, Elena after a night shift working at the hospital. Cuddled up in a heap under the warm sheets and covers, her leg over his, his arm around her shoulders, they slept. Naked, blissfully so. The touch of skin on skin all the comfort they needed.

Elena was in a dreamless sleep, too exhausted from work, but Damon lay next to her, dreaming of their perfect day. She was wearing a long white dress, as stunningly beautiful as he could have ever hoped for. And she looked so happy. He smiled at her.

"Hello, gorgeous," he said as he took her hand in his for the dance. Their dance.

A piano started playing. A guitar. Enzo's voice, then Bonnie's. Their gift for the newlyweds, a song…

Damon couldn't stop smiling.

He saw his brother and Caroline sitting at a table nearby, their noses almost touching as they smiled at each other. Caroline was clinging to Stefan's arm. They were exchanging a moment of their own.

Ric was there, busy keeping the kids entertained.

But most importantly, Elena was there, leaning forward now, whispering in his ear, "I love you, Mr. Salvatore."

"And I love you, Mrs. Salvatore."

She threw her head back, her wavy hair sparkling with little pearls, and laughed as he pulled her closer against him, then away again, her dress floating.

As he pulled her to his chest again, smiling, enjoying this wonderful moment with her, his wife, his eyes caught a drop of red on her dress. His expression darkened a little. Red, to him, still only meant one thing.

Blood.

And while he still puzzled over where it could have come from, he saw Elena's body grow limp, and the stain on her dress widen and widen and widen.

He opened his mouth in a scream that wouldn't come, his face an expression of utter agony. No, he thought, no no no no no. He caught her in his arms, her eyes locked on his. "Damon?" She whispered, his name a question. "What's happening?"

But he never got to find out. Her eyes started fluttering shut, and his heart felt like it was being squeezed too hard, he was going to die right there with her. And it was probably for the better, for a life without her was no life…

...

He woke up with a start, panting. Hurriedly, he felt for Elena right next to him, saw her face, peacefully asleep. He should have felt better immediately. It was just a stupid dream after all.

Why then did his heart still feel like he was dying? "Elena?" He wheezed out. This was not happening. Was he having a friggin' heart attack?

"Elena. A little help?"

Her eyelids flickered open finally. It took her a minute to find her bearings, but as soon as she saw him, she was wide awake, and his pained expression, the way he clutched his chest, sent her into panic mode. "Damon? Oh my gosh…"

...

Thank you all for the reviews again.

"Guest": yes! Bonnie and Enzo are the reason I'm writing this. I haven't really dabbled in fan fic for a while. Then I finally caught up with TVD just a couple weeks ago, and here I am. :)

Anna: yes, poor Elena. Dealing with her father's "legacy" won't be easy for her.

Shadowdancer: you're very right about Grayson. He's a bad man with a tinge of good, at best. Not the other way around. And so true about his victims, too.