A/N: Chapter has been beta'ed and revised.

The early morning mist begins to clear as the sun rises, casting orange and pink hues onto a thin layer of cloud. A pair of black loafers jog down the steps of the police station where he had been held and interrogated for over ten hours. Alaric Saltzman whistles a merry tune and breathes in deeply. The air was cool and crisp, like a refreshing drink of cool water after hours in a desert. He had to admit; luck was on his side and Elena Gilbert hadn't pressed any charges or given her statement. He'd doubted she had wanted to relive the nightmares they had both endured under that delusional vampire.

As if suddenly remembering that his beloved Tahoe was still parked by the major roadside curb, Alaric groans and swears under his breath. In order to get there, he needed to wait for the bus that comes every half an hour, or he could walk all the way which would most likely take him roughly around the same time. He slowly makes his journey towards the main street, pausing to nod in greeting at a perky brunette walking her retriever whilst carrying a cup of espresso. He could smell the aromatic caramelized cocoa beans wafting through the tiny, filtered sip.

A cup of coffee wouldn't hurt and he could always get breakfast to go before trudging on. A left turn and two rights later, he couldn't help but feel a pair of eyes watching him.

Really? Didn't I inform her that I had no plans to run and still, you had me followed?

He snorts internally. What a waste of resources. Alaric turns around to find a couple of passer-bys paying him no attention as they go about their business; there were no police cars in his sight and yet he could feel the prickly sense of being stalked. There was this dogged feeling that he just couldn't shake off, causing his feet to quicken in pace, his heart hammered rapidly in his chest; he's almost towards the entrance. He can make it. He just needs to pass the alley and take three, maybe four steps more, before he can safely duck into the grill house.

There's no one there. All those interrogations in a windowless room have made you deluded, sluggish, famished and exhausted. You just need sleep, Alaric tells himself firmly. His hand rubs his face in a desperate attempt to stay focused on his destination. Briefly, his mind wonders why the breadth of the alleyway seems so wide and with the combination of the morning fog and exhaust smoke coming from the grill house, it always feels as though the alley was emitting a strange mysterious aura.

An empty plastic bottle falls onto the ground and rolls until it knocks against his left boot gently. He jumps in mid-stride and stares stupidly at the bottle. A soft crinkle of paper catches his attention and he freezes on the spot, his eye pupils staring wildly into the alley as he tries to pinpoint the source of the noises. Quietly, he edges forward into the alleyway and picks up a thin wooden slab with a rusted nail at the end. His hands grip the other end of the slab as he moves stealthily around the green dumpster. He felt first before he saw a blur of brown fur weaving through the small space between his ankles.

"Meow."

Alaric sighs in relief and places the makeshift weapon on the lid of the dumpster to pinch the upper bridge of his nose.

Definitely a lack of sleep. You're freaking out over a common, stray tabby cat.

He lowers himself to squat on his haunches to scold the tabby that was still staring at him, but a grip on the back of his jacket yanks him backward. He finds himself crashing into the empty wooden crates by the alley brick wall and lets out a pained groan. He hacks continuously at the fogged smoke combustion from the generator blasting him in the face, while trying to get his bearings straight. He's certain that there was no one else in the alleyway beside him and that cat, yet he hears an unfamiliar clicking noise slowly increasing in volume. His eyes peer up to meet his assailant but ends up blinking confusedly.

"Elena? What… what are you doing?"

Alaric coughs harshly at her fingers grabbing his throat and slamming his back into the harsh, unforgiving red-bricked wall.

No, Elena doesn't have the strength to do that. Oh dear God. No! It can't be…

"You have some nerve, showing your face. Did you think you could get away unscathed? Do you?!"

The glare of his assailant cuts through him and Alaric suppresses a shiver as he catches a glimpse of the danger that this vampire is hiding just underneath the surface. Her eyes darken instantly, matching the color of her dark, wild loose curls.

"Katherine," he rasps.

Her lips curl mockingly at his ragged breathing as her perfectly sharp, manicured fingernails dig into the tender flesh of his windpipe. Her idle hand pulls out a crumpled photo out of her pocket and shoves it in front of his face. It was the same photograph of her doppelganger Katherine had discovered in his drawer. She snarls viciously, "What sick, twisted games have you been playing with her? Is there any more of this crap?"

His face drains of color and his guilty eyes dart out everywhere else but the picture. "Look at it, you sick son of a bitch!" He stammers out a reply, his voice shaking at her vampire visage looming down at him. "I didn't know what I was doing, I swear. I never wanted to hurt her. Please. You have to believe me. I was compelled by another. They were searching for the doppelganger."

Katherine scoffs at the excuse and raises him higher, causing the tips of his shoes to brush lightly against the ground. "Compel the truth out of me. I'm not on vervain," he insists. Her glare intensifies at his reply and swipes a small syringe from his pocket, before tossing him into the ground like a rag doll.

"But you're carrying vervain. Did you think I can't smell it on you?" Her heels clicked loudly against the gravel pavement, causing him to scramble backward on his hands, moving hurriedly as he could in order to distance himself from one irate vampire. She observes him with great amusement while his hands pat at his jacket pockets and watches as his expression contorts to a frown.

Having grown bored of his frantic searching, Katherine waves the little metallic syringe filled with green liquid and drawls, "Looking for this?" She catches his gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing uncomfortably at her sneer. "I'd thought I save you the trouble of attempting your silly little plan because this homemade cocktail isn't going to work on me."

His back hits the bricked wall and Alaric scrambles to his feet. She continues on, having had his full attention. "Now which pathetic minion of Klaus are you working for? Answer it truthfully and I will let you go unharmed. Answer it wrongly… and I will kill that girlfriend of yours."

"He… He never told me his name… but the other vampire called him Trevor. That's all I know."

Katherine's scowl deepens at the lack of information. Trevor. Such a common name, just like any of the usual Tom, Jack, and Harry. She settles on glaring at him. "How convenient. You have nothing useful; I might as well kill you now and do everyone else a favor."

"Wait. Wait, this guy - Trevor - he's still there at the mansion. I- I can give you the address." She listens to the human plead for his miserable life to be spared; her eyes narrow onto the tiny movement where he has his hand moving at a minuscule rate to stick into one of his jeans pocket and he begins to pull something out. Not taking any chances, she shoves him around and captures that offending wrist, twisting it roughly behind his back until she hears a pained yell.

Katherine chuckles darkly, "Oh no. I have a much better idea. You're coming with me on this little road trip."

A dark blue SUV rolls to a stop and squeezes in between two parked vehicles along the roadside curb. The driver's door swings open and out jumps Elizabeth Forbes wearing a collared white polo shirt peeking out of her winter coat, a pair of slacks, and her usual black boots she'd usually wear for work. She glances at the Gilbert's house and takes note of the vehicle parked in the driveway. Ever since the commencement of the Founder's Party celebrations, John returning to town, and being swarmed with work concerning Saltzman and his strange involvement with Elena's disappearance and of the town's unique situation, she never had the time to check on Elena. They couldn't hold him without Elena's statement and the Gilberts hadn't filed any charges. So she thought she'd drop by and see if Elena is up for a couple of questions.

She knocks the door with her knuckle and waits patiently for someone to answer. The door swings open a good five minutes later, revealing a worn out Jenna Sommers leaning against the door frame. "Sheriff Forbes, is something the matter?" Jenna's features had taken on a puzzled expression to her sudden visit whereas the tone of her voice sounded rather tired and her face had shallow eye bags. Elizabeth wonders briefly if Jenna is having trouble balancing her graduate studies with sole guardianship of the Gilbert siblings.

"It's Liz. I'm off-duty for today. I was wondering if I could speak to Elena off the record, and see how she is doing," Elizabeth inquires softly. And if I could come in too. Gosh, it's freezing outside!

Jenna opens the door wider and steps aside to allow her inside and at the same time, to prevent the cold draft from entering. Her eyes dart quickly up to the closed bedroom door as she hesitantly replies, "I don't think now is the best time... Elena's feeling under the weather. Would you like a drink? Some hot tea perhaps?"

They enter the kitchenette and Elizabeth eases onto one of the vacant bar stools by the island counter, watching Jenna prepare her hot beverage. All the while, they chatted about trivial stuff mostly about Jenna complaining to her regarding John stirring trouble; and Elizabeth returning the favor by telling her about Carol Lockwood's indecision on the upcoming events for the Founder's Party. She really had wanted to inquire more about Alaric Saltzman, but she had promised Jeremy that she wouldn't involve Jenna. Instead she smiles, nods along, and sips slowly at her tea.

A high-pitched scream ricochets from the floor above, followed by loud panicked shouts of "Go away! Don't touch me!" The screams catch her attention immediately and her senses kick into high gear; she shoots out of the kitchenette, into the hallway, and up the stairs. Her right hand instinctively reach for the strapped gun holster attached to her hip, only to find it missing. She curses under her breath as if recalling the memory of informing her colleague that she'd be taking a day off.

She flings the closed door open and discovers Jeremy standing just a few feet away, holding a damp washcloth loosely. He must have entered from the adjoined bathroom. It was then that Elizabeth spots his sister cradling her head with both her arms and huddling in the farthest corner of the room. The poor girl was a mess; tears and snot run down her face endlessly as her breathing grew more and more ragged at each agitated shake, racking her petite frame. She takes a small step forward but halts immediately at Elena's hysterical cry.

"Stay back!"

It was only then that she sensed another presence behind and turns to find Jenna stepping around her. Her hand shoots outwards to prevent Jenna from agitating Elena, but the blonde woman just twists her body sideways and sidles through.

"Oh, honey."

Soft, gentle reassurances spill from Jenna's lips who upon reaching Elena, has dropped to her knees and spreads her strong, guiding arms towards her niece who instinctively latches on to the older woman. Elizabeth can't help but get the impression that Jenna had done this countless of times because the action seemed so natural. Jenna pulls Elena onto her lap, wraps an arm tightly around her waist while the other hand rubs Elena's back with calm, soothing strokes.

"Shhh… You're safe. No one's going to hurt you, Elena. It's just a bad dream. Shhh… "

She repeats the mantra over and over like a prayer while Elena buries her face into the crook of Jenna's neck. Meanwhile, there seems to be a silent conversation exchanged between Jenna and Jeremy as she watched his facial appearance contorts with so much expression as he attempts to convey himself wordlessly. Finally, his shoulders sag dejectedly in response to Jenna shaking her head while motioning with her hands briefly, pointing at the door and then returning to rub Elena's back.

"But I only wanted to help…" Jeremy trails off.

Realizing Jenna probably needed them to clear out so she could settle Elena back into bed, Elizabeth places her hand gently on his shoulder and jerks her head at the doorway. As she slowly guides Jeremy to the hallway, she catches Jenna mouthing her silent thanks to which she nods in acknowledgment and shuts the bedroom door gently.

She could still hear Elena's broken cries punctured with Jenna's calm voice reverberating through the thin walls. She knows Jeremy can hear his sister hurting and it's probably affecting him more than it did her. She decides a swift change in topic is in order. "Do you know where your Uncle John is?"

He shakes his head and replies, "No, but he did mention the Founder's Party needed to set off with an explosive start. So he's probably busy acquiring all the best fireworks he can get his hands on."

-A-

Somewhere deep in the forested woods where the old Fell's Church was laid in ruins, reveals an open tomb. At the entrance stands John Gilbert sporting a headlamp, carrying a bright yellow, heavy-duty torchlight. It had been three days since Katherine had informed him about Pearl being one of the many vampires from the 1864 era who had been stuck in the tomb until the witches had released them. He knew the remaining bloodsucking fiends who survived had all escaped into town. It had taken him three days to gather information and now was the perfect time to hunt down that elusive cog. There was a possible chance the vampire might have dropped it in a hurry to escape the church catacombs. He stares determinedly into the pitch darkness and takes a deep breath, before stepping into the darkness.

Outside of Mystic Falls

"Well… What are you waiting for? Some hand holding?!"

Her glare pierces through and jump starts his nerves that he jolts into action immediately, deciding it was in his best interest not to further irritate the vampire doppelganger. He leads the way through a series of long hallways and side corridors all encrusted with dirt and cobwebs. He glances back occasionally to check if Katherine was following behind, not that he couldn't hear her heels clicking loudly. He finally reaches the room where he had died temporarily, protecting his master - Trevor - from harm. However, the place was completely empty, save for a small patch of dried blood where the shriveled heart was once laid. The dead vampire who was supposed to be his saving grace had disappeared.

Dead vampires with their chests ripped out and missing a heart do not just get up and walk away. Someone must have dropped by after I left and cleared the place out. But which vampire was it? The female partner or the man in the suit?

He sees Katherine looking around the tiny windowless room, her lip curling in disdain. "Where's the show and tell?" Katherine finally snaps, turning her full attention to face him.

"He… He was supposed to be lying right here," Alaric hears himself and suppresses a wince at the sound of his voice quivering at the intensity of her glare.

"I'm starting to tire of your games. Best you start talking or your girlfriend is going to be my dinner treat," Katherine slinks towards him and he backs up and away. He raises his hands in surrender to her advances.

"Wait. Wait, there was a man dressed in a suit. He came by that afternoon and those vampires… I think they worked for him," Alaric states quickly.

Katherine doesn't stop her advances until there was only a covered table in between them.

"And what makes you so sure?" she impatiently retorts.

"Because they called him Lord Elijah."

"Lies!"

Her eyes darken at his answer and she comes at him at full speed. He groans painfully at his back and the back of his skull crash against the wall. He barely has time to react at her hand harshly holding his head still, before his vision spins and blurs viciously into a kaleidoscopic whirlwind of colors and stilted images of every interaction he has had with the doppelganger. The chained door that he has been able to successfully shove all the disturbing memories of what Trevor had coerced him to do has now been blasted open to the forefront in his mind.

He watched playbacks after playbacks of past memories - forcing Elena to cum with his fingers and sometimes vibrators, spanking her cunt as she lies unconscious on the window ledge in her bedroom, toying with her body until her thighs twitch and spasm against her will, and finally, binding her up and bringing her to the mansion so Trevor could have her to himself. Memory lane slowed to a stop when the man named Elijah appeared before him, demanding to enter. He had refused and then came the darkness.

His body collapses to the ground like a lifeless heap, barely recognizing he's back in the mansion. His brain felt like it would swell beyond the capacity of his skull and now his dehydration was too obvious to ignore. He felt pain throbbing on one side of his skull so violently that he wondered why it hadn't cracked open. His stomach lurches and gurgles. He raises his heavy eyelids halfway only for them to fall shut.

I should have died that day, if not for the ring. It doesn't matter. I know my time is near.

Katherine stalks away from the human for a breather. Her fists clench so tightly that her knuckles turn white. Burning rage hisses through her body like deathly poison, screeching a demanded release in the form of wanting to rip something - someone - apart. It was like a volcano erupting; white hot fury sweeping off her in ferocious waves. She just couldn't believe the abuse had taken place right under her nose.

Why didn't Elena say anything? If she had just told me, I would have taken him right out of the picture then she would never be tortured or worse, raped. Why didn't she tell me? Why?

Katherine takes a deep breath and catches a faint whiff of dried blood. She notes the faded aroma wasn't pungent and sweet; it smelt harsher, leaving a bitter taste on her tongue. Vampire blood, she mentally catalogs and bends down to pick a loose frayed rope off the dirt-encrusted ground. She turns the rope over and recalls the pattern had matched the one on Elena's wrists. She really was here. There was no doubt in that.

If they were working for Elijah, why did he kill his own men? Unless they weren't, and he was protecting the doppelganger from Klaus's henchmen? She dared to hope that the brothers were really working against each other.

"I should kill you for what you did."

He can hear her walking back towards him, her boots clicking steadily. Her tone was quiet and deadly as poison.

Yes, you should.

Sharp nails puncture the sides of his neck and Alaric feels himself being lifted up slowly, his hands clawing for purchase. His eyes lock bravely onto hers - hazel with specks of darkness, gradually shifting into pitch black irises, dark as death surrounding itself in a sea of crimson. Dark veins emerge from underneath her beautiful skin and a pair of fangs peek out as the vampire growls, the corner of her lips curl and twist wickedly. A shiver creeps down his spine as her head tilts slightly as if assessing him.

"Any last words?"

This was it. He was staring down at death's door. He'd always seen death as a shadow lurking in the dark, following you in disguise as one's own shadow. Crossing the street and a car speeding towards you swerves out of the way at the very last minute; that was death disentangling from your shadow and slinking back to the abyss of the underworld unnoticed. But he was always there and the closer he got, the sooner he would take you as his own. This death was different; it's tangible in the form of a supernatural creature. He was going to die here. Alone.

Kill me.

"Spare Jenna. Please. She's innocent," Alaric pleads instead.

I'm the one you want.

"Is that all?" She chuckles lightly and he was mildly disturbed by the sound of her laughter being so carefree and light.

"The ring. If you're going to kill me, at least let me remove it," Alaric states and wonders if she knows the magical properties of the ring he wore.

There is a funny glint in her eyes as soon as he informs her. Her smile stretches so wide that with her vampire visage, he wonders if she was the devil reincarnated herself with the diabolical smirk.

"You think I'm going to kill you? Give you a peace of mind while the girl you tortured is on the receiving end of terror-filled nightmares?! Death would be too easy," Katherine chuckles and then snarls, "Guilt will eat at you and gnaw away until you come back, crawling on your knees, begging me to end your pathetic life."

The pain flaring at the sides of his throat vanishes instantly as she releases him, his boots landing on the floor with a thud. Her hand moves upwards to grip his chin, yanking forcefully until his wide eyes meet her dark irises. Alaric suddenly feels as though he was walking on the moon; weightless, buoyant, and at ease. He barely hears her speak or feels his neck crook up and down in response. Darkness swoops down at him and Alaric closes his eyes, welcoming the darkness as his body crashes to the ground once more.