Disclaimer: I do not own the Vampire Diaries.

A/N: I know this is so short you guys, and I'm really sorry. But I'll be spending five hours on a train tomorrow morning so I can probably get the next chapter done. I promised WhisperedxNothings that I'd get this to you before my trip!

Twenty

"No no no," Alex stammered, shaking her head with such force that she thought it would spin clear off her head. "Matt no. You can't think like that."

Matt gave her a soft, pitying gaze; it was a look that belonged to a much older, much wiser man. Perhaps that was why it broke Alex's heart. "I'm just trying to be rational, Alex." He glanced at the chained vampire across the barn, who had started to shudder with consciousness just moments ago. "I'm just… scared."

The confession was like a dagger through Alex's chest. For the first time since being kidnapped, she blinked and really looked at Matt.

He wasn't dressed to attend the Salvatore party, but rather was in his casual tee and jeans. There were tears in the cloth as if he'd put up a great fight before succumbing to his captor. Blood trickled from a gash at his temple and stained his cheek all the way to his neck… But it wasn't this state of ruin that made Alex's stomach clench. It was the look of defeat in his once strong blue gaze. It was the very human and very helpless slump in his shoulders that Matt had somehow managed to outrun since the beginning of this crazy mess.

He finally surrendered to it.

"Matt." Alex's voice broke as she sobbed his name. When had everything gotten so out of hand? When did she stop realizing that her best friend had needed her all along, when she thought it was the other way around? "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

The quarterback slipped his mighty hand into her delicate one—though it didn't seem so mighty anymore—and gave her a soft, sad smile. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

At that moment, the side door of the barn crashed open again with enough force to shake the rafters above. James stumbled through, dragging an unconscious, well-dressed man behind him as if he was nothing more than a burden to be carried.

Elijah.

Alex gasped to see the typically daunting Original in such a state of duress. The sight wedged a sliver of doubt into her thoughts, which blossomed into an all-consuming worry: Was Kol okay? Had he fallen to the same fate as his brother?

Ester, too, appeared in the doorway, and took in the sight of her dead-undead son with indifferent eyes.

"He's waking?" She asked James.

"Yeah." James tossed Elijah in the dirt. The vampire's nose twitched, but he was otherwise incapacitated. "I thought you said the vamp chick would wake first?"

Ester didn't appear to find James's slang very appealing, but nodded. "She will. It's nearly midnight. The Bennett witches are preparing for the rest of my children to arrive." She moved to return outside, but James stopped her.

"And what about our deal?"

A pregnant pause filled the air as the captives in the room stared on in silence. Ester turned, very slowly and very deliberately, to fix her gaze once more on James. There was something about the gleam in her eyes that made Alex's stomach squirm; as much as she hated her brother in that moment, she feared for him.

"Yes, our deal," Ester said, as if she could have forgotten. Her dark, knowing eyes sought out Alex. "I promised you that no harm would come to your sister, should tonight's events unfold as planned." She gave a cold smile to James. "So far, yes, I will honor that."

James narrowed his eyes, but nodded. "Then what's next?"

Alex watched the pair leave, her eyes wide and mind reeling.

So was James trying to protect her? Or was it all an act?

She squeezed Matt's hand and huddled closer to him, fearful of the answer.

Alaric glided into the field with light, airy steps. That was one of the considerable differences between Good and Bad Alaric: Good was burdened by the weight of helplessness, Bad was free to act.

And it felt great.

A bonfire raged between the Bennett witches; their eyes were closed, their mouths working some sort of magic that seemed to permeate the air and draw dark clouds over the sky. Alaric sensed a shift in the wind—their power was growing by the second.

And the closer to midnight it was, the closer he'd be to ridding the world of the undead.

Ester and James Heart stepped out from the barn. The centuries-old witch walked with the sort of regal posture a queen might have, whilst the young writer behind her just shambled.

Alaric smiled at them.

"Mr. Saltzman," Ester greeted. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't join us."

The smile turned to a leer. "This is something I'd like to see."

"Of course."

He eyed James; there was a coldness in Alaric's gaze that was otherly. It didn't belong to him. It didn't belong to a human.

And yet it persisted.

"What about our deal?" he asked with a bit of casualness, but there was a sharp edge in his tone that caught James's attention. They both turned to Ester, one in confusion, the other in waiting.

Ester, too, glanced at James. She seemed almost… sad. "It remains," was all she said, before striding away.

Alaric grinned and pulled out his gun.

It was in that terrible moment that James put it together. "Wait—"

A bang breached the air and echoed through the valley. James Heart stumbled backwards into the rough wood of the barn, choking for air as he slid to the ground. An angry red trail of blood stained the wood in his wake.

His eyes were round in shock; his hands came up, instinctively, to cradle his wound. Wet, hot liquid burned his hands—he stared down in shock at the gaping hole in his chest.

Ester watched from beside the fire.

"But—"James's voice was stifled by the blood rising in his throat, choking him. "We—had a—deal."

"And I do wish I could spare your sister," Ester said, in a voice that suggested her words were genuine. "But I'm afraid I wouldn't achieve what I came for if I did."

With that, thoughts of James's impending death seemed to have fled her mind as she turned to the witches and made her preparations.

Alaric, however, wasn't so quick to dismiss. He crouched down before the eldest Heart sibling, expression blank. "I warned you. You should have left it alone."

Then he, too, walked away, and left a young man to choke on his own blood.

"What was that?" Elena asked in a shrill voice. "Was that a gunshot?"

All eyes turned to the only one with vampiric hearing for affirmation. Caroline was staring at the door of the barn; her lips were parted, her eyes filled with tears. They shook her, and she did not respond.

"Oh my God," she whispered, at long last. "Oh my God!" Her teary gaze flew to Alex, and nothing else was said, because the red-headed vampire behind them was stirring.

The spidery shadows of the forest lurched past Kol in a pinwheel of greys. Every now and then, the moonlight would splash across his face, sending him back to the time he had lurked in these very woods and followed his brothers to their family's doom.

It would not happen again. He wouldn't allow it.

He would save Alex. He would do what he didn't have the power to do before.

Twigs and branches gave out under his footfalls, despite the speed with which he traveled. Never before had he pushed himself to such a limit—his form moved so swiftly that tears gathered in his eyes against the unforgiving wind and air did not even reach his long-dead lungs.

Regardless of the time that passed, Kol's memory was as sharp as ever. He navigated the far-gone trails with ease one only had with practice; and though the trees were mightier and the air was rancorous from the stains of human advancement, the stars above were quite the same. It wasn't long before he spilled forth unto a valley, within which a small plot of farmland laid below, fenced and bordered by red-wooded barns. He dashed downhill until his feet were level once more; his eyes were crazed, his teeth clenched and barred.

Put simply, Kol was primed to kill.

Then a gunshot pierced the air and he could no longer restrain the monster within him.

There wasn't time for anyone to register the devastation on Caroline's face, nor the way she looked at Alex in a ravage of despair. Perhaps if a second or two had drawn out further, the notion of wrongness could have struck and settled.

Alas, time was a tricky thing.

A low moan slipped from the lips of the awakening vampire in shackles. All eyes flew to her—wide and fearful—as she canted her head. Flame-colored hair tumbled around her face; even in a condition such as hers, she was extravagantly beautiful and held a certain timelessness about her.

Alex gathered all this by the way she moved, for no detail slipped past her in her moment of terror.

It registered with her a moment later that someone was tugging at her hand. She looked to see Matt on his feet, hesitation clear in his every step, as he edged towards the wall furthest from the vampire.

The four of them had to step over Elijah on their way.

"Is it just me or does anyone else get a particularly murderous vibe from that chick?" Caroline asked aloud as they cowered. "Like, really murderous."

"Ester said she'd wake at midnight," Matt said, tightening his grip on Alex. He shielded her with his body, as if that could stop a however-old vampire from tearing through him. "So I'd assume she's been compelled to be pretty murderous."

Elena's eyes kept flicking to Elijah. "We need to wake him up."

"And ask him to do what, exactly? Protect the people he's screwed over how many times so we can kill his mother?" Underneath the fear, bitterness laced Matt's voice.

"He'll help us," Elena said, unwavering conviction lighting her eyes. "I know it."

She didn't wait for any sort of agreement. The Original was a mere six feet away from them; she crossed the short space and crouched by his side, tentatively cupping his face in her hands.

"Elijah," she pleaded. "Wake up. Come on, you need to wake up."

Alex shook her head in hysteria as Elena continued her pleadings. She turned to Matt and grabbed both of his hands, sucking in deep breaths and calming herself.

They wouldn't die. Kol wouldn't let them die.

It was strange how she suddenly believed this with such faith that her shudders turned to mere trembles.

No one heard the barn door open again. No one saw James dragging himself across the dirty ground until a bubble of blood dripped from his mouth as he choked aloud.

Alex's eyes landed on him, paralyzing her in fear.

So much is happening right now, but I hope you're enjoying it! And look forward to a steamy sequel once I complete this fic!

Please review! What do you think about James? Did you see that coming? Do you think he genuinely was looking out for Alex this whole time?