The Doppelgänger Diaries

by njeha

This is the story of Elena's twin; Anastasia Gilbert, who is the complete opposite of her twin from her looks to her personality. Things shake up in Mystic Falls with Anastasia in the picture; a girl that plays by her own rules. However, trouble is brewing in Mystic Falls once the Salvatore brothers arrive. And what if there were two sets of doppelgangers ... Would things change?

38. Chapter 38

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters, ideas and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Anastasia Gilbert – Petra Cubonova.

Chapter 38:

Norway, 1397,

The body of John Holm lay unmoving beside his keening wife, facial expression peaceful, the wrinkles and fine lines decorating his face free from tension and anxiety as he departed Earth and took residence in the afterlife, reluctantly abandoning the other half of his soul. The unrestrained sobbing of his wife pervaded the stale air and shook the foundations of their dinky, humble abode, her useless pleas for him to open his gorgeous gray eyes and connect with her imploring sapphire gaze remaining unanswered and settling heavy in the air.

Her bony hand, wrinkled with age, traveled from his still face to clutch the front of his tunic in a surprisingly vice grip and she buried her wizened face in his chest, the lack of heartbeat and the fact that his chest no longer rose and fell in tempo with the comforting sign of life attesting that he had passed on and left her all alone and her hysterical keens renewed with heart-wrenching fervor.

Despite her age, Ástriðr had an impressive memory, an inherent aspect her father thankfully hadn't denied her of upon her banishment and upon her descent to mortality. Ástriðr Holm was currently sixty-six years of age in human years, her now deceased husband ten years her senior and, she remembered as though it were yesterday the day they met, him saving her from the brink of death, hopelessness, and despair, and the moment he made her the happiest woman in the universe when he asked for her hand in marriage. It didn't take long for John Holm to begin responding to the mystical bond that tied him to the strange woman he rescued from the water's immensity, only Ástriðr having the knowledge that the reason she never encountered her soulmate in Utopia was simply because he was an Earthling, spaed to be born in Ósló, Norway on the year 1321 – and wasn't that a surprise?

Clearly, breaking the rules and adopting a rebellious streak had its advantages and, from the exact moment Ástriðr laid eyes on her dashing and chivalrous soulmate, the Seventh Daughter and Fourteenth Child of King Alrekra and Queen Sigríðr felt immense gratitude towards her father for his callous decision to banish her from her home and family, stripping her of her ranks, youth and power. She didn't need all that, she had no need for such inconsequential matters when she had finally met her soulmate. Her John…

…who has now perished, succumbing to old age and having weakened from the woes of poverty.

The hardships of life in the virulent arms of poverty, working tirelessly to provide for his flourishing family took a toll on her John and he no longer had the strength to reach his seventy-seventh birthday. John Holm tucked himself in their ratty bed, held his arms out for his beloved Ástriðr and, after she settled herself comfortably in his loving embrace, their bodies molded together for the very last time, for, as Ástriðr surrendered to unconsciousness, John exhaled his last breath.

Ástriðr lost touch with reality; she knew not the amount of time she kept ahold of her lifeless husband's form, begging him to awaken. All she knew was, one moment that seemed like years, she cried for her John to come back and to not leave her, and the next thing she was aware of, her children, her four priceless gems, were crying her name, warm arms wrapping around her and tearing her away from the other half of her soul.

"No. No! John… JOHN!" Ástriðr keened, her agonizing wails eliciting shivers down her children's spines.

Her eldest, John Jr., his voice suffused with tears, locked her in his muscular embrace, "He's gone, Mor. Far is no longer with us." (Mor – Mother & Far – Father)

"NO! JOHN, DON'T LEAVE ME, DO NOT LEAVE ME! Come back to me, ástin mín, please! Come back to me!" (ástin mín – my love)

Brilliant sapphire eyes, identical to the keening widow, observed from the Foss of Varðmaðr, rivulets of tears cascading down his face at the unadulterated heartbreak his youngest was currently going through. He wouldn't wish the death of a Utopian's other half on anybody, not even as a form of punishment for his rebellious daughter. When he chose to banish her, he hadn't expected Ástriðr to cross such a desolate path, having always believed, like his beloved wife, that his favorite child possessed a complete soul. Watching his grandchildren forcibly pull their grieving mother apart from the mortal's empty shell, he knew… oh, King Alrekra knew, his daughter would soon be reunited with her lost love, for half of a soul cannot thrive and exist without it's other half.

Soon, Ástriðr Holm, formerly known as a Princess of Utopia, would be reunited with John Holm in the Bright World and finally know the true meaning of peace…

---

Pacing frenetically in the abode of Van Helsing wannabe who paraded throughout the picturesque town in the guise of an amicable high school history teacher, Klaus, still in the body of Alaric, skated through a myriad of speculations, wondering where the bloody moonstone's location could be. He needed that inauspicious rock in his possession before the full moon, which so happened to be the following night, and unfortunately, the Big Bad Klaus was utterly useless in his current haggard mortal body.

The absolute fear his presence alone evoked was advantageous, a weapon to be utilized along with his preternatural abilities. Accustomed to magic and the pure power it radiated thanks to his age, his heritage and the quiescent magic coursing through his veins, Klaus would be able to detect the authentic moonstone quite easily without the need of Maddox or Greta. Therefore, in his limited time, it was crucial that he return to his original body otherwise, the ritual would be postponed another month, an unfavorable option as his patience was wearing ominously thin…

Once he had calmed down, his dangerous rage diminishing after he very nearly throttled Katerina – a quite therapeutic action he belatedly realized – he was able to think much more clearly, applying one of his most inherently effective and valuable traits: his strategic mindset; and a sudden, not particularly farfetched notion crossed his mind. Perhaps somebody close to the doppelgänger made the switch? – It was a loaded question and an appropriate suspicion, though the possibilities were lacking. The Salvatore brothers genuinely believed they had been in possession of the authentic moonstone otherwise they wouldn't have bothered making an effort in hiding it from Katerina. The doppelgänger herself wouldn't dare risk evoking Klaus' wrath, especially not after Katerina imparted, with morbid relish, the consequences of eluding him. The Bennett witch was the most likely candidate, her having a motive and sufficient power to challenge the Salvatores. Unfortunately, the dead cannot speak and Klaus was left without ideas.

"Where'd he go?" Katherine jutted her chin towards the door that had recently closed behind Maddox, an extended hand under his nose with the proffered morning caffeine. Curiosity shone in those deceptive doe eyes, never bereft of the calculating gleam, a trait that aided in her many schemes and manipulations. Snatching the mug, Klaus barely spared her a glance, "To retrieve me. So I can get out of this bad hair-do."

Attempting to instill a casual note in her tone, she blinked innocently and took a slow sip from her own coffee mug, "Are you sure that's a good idea, Klaus?" For good measure, she cocked an eyebrow, displaying her skepticism. In response, Klaus stopped pacing and turned to face her, both eyebrows raised and mug frozen a hairsbreadth from his lips, his stare urging her to vocalize her inner musings. Clearing her throat, Katherine shifted her upper body in a contradictory combination of confidence and apprehension, "Well, I just can't bring myself to understand why you'd stick around here. There's so many people that would try to stop you."

His reaction was quite disquieting and the positively wicked chuckle that escaped his lips gave her a sense of foreboding, her fight or flight instincts on overdrive. "Only one person posed a real threat to my goals and you'll be happy to hear that, as of last night, I have disposed of her." The witch, Katherine's mind supplied. She couldn't help but think of little judgmental Bonnie Bennett's death as anticlimactic and that, even with the power of a hundred dead witches on her side, she was as harmful as mouse. No, the real threat, the real danger, the one that wielded true power, was alive and well, armed and loaded; and Klaus had absolutely no idea, by virtue of the volatile mixture of Anastasia's sense of forethought and Elijah's compulsion. "The doppelgänger is waiting in the wings and I am more than ready to break this curse. And to do so, a quite annoying prerequisite is that it must take place in the doppelgänger's birthplace."

Vehemently taken aback, Katherine slightly stuttered, "I-I didn't realize that was a requirement."

Incensed rage blazed through his veneer of calm, his rigid form exuding an animosity that was like acid – burning, slicing, potent. Nevertheless, when he spoke, his tone was heavy with condescension and his words a painful slap across her face, "Well, how could you? You betrayed me and fled England before I could give you the details, Katerina. But I did find your birthplace-" his lips contorted into a devilish smirk, "-and I slaughtered your family. So I guess we're cool. Let's just hope that Elena isn't as stupid as you."

Her automatic reaction was to appease him by asserting her plain doppelgänger would rather die than run and sentence her family and friends to a certain horrific death, but his cutting comment stung and she wanted him to hurt like he hurt her, and so, she stated a little cataclysmic fact that would undoubtedly derail his plans. "You're forgetting the teensy fact that you don't have the moonstone," she snidely pointed out, her arms crossed tightly against her chest and gaze sullen with just a hint of mocking.

"Not yet," Klaus looked unfazed. Taking a few steps forward until he loomed over her menacingly, he softly patted her cheek in a patronizing demeanor that had her dark gaze practically spit fire. "But once I'm back in my body, I'll make sure to leave corpses on the doppelgänger's doorstep until the moonstone is rightfully in my possession…"

---

For an entire day, Anastasia left Elena hanging, not actively responding to her plea for help and concomitantly, the blonde received not even a word of thanks from her ungrateful siblings when her – and Elijah, something the Scooby Gang were entirely oblivious of – underhanded scheme of faking Bonnie's death at Klaus' hand came to light, via webcam, both the teenage witch and Damon unable to keep their traps shut for the greater good, caving immediately at sight of a tearful Elena and a dejected Jeremy. No! Instead of a simple thank you, Elena harangued Anastasia for the need of secrets and for keeping her in the dark. The audacity and the doppelgänger's double standards had the blonde frothing at the mouth, prompting her to deliberately postpone reacting to her cry for help.

The day of the full moon arrived which, according to Elijah, was when the ritual to break the curse placed on Klaus was scheduled to transpire, and also meaning the commence of the final phase of Plan B. For that reason, Anastasia, Jenna, John, Mason, Caroline, Lexi, Lee and Elijah – or as Caroline liked to call the allied group, Team Ana, but which Anastasia referred to as Team Has A Brain – woke up at the crack of dawn to have a private meeting in the Gilbert's living room, the hashing of the incredibly convoluted plan finally reaching fruition.

"Ana?" Caroline hesitantly approached her best friend from behind. The moment the discussion regarding Plan B came to a close, Anastasia hastened to the kitchen, mumbling something along the lines of needing a coffee refill, but she failed to fool them, them all having taken notice of the fact that she was distracted, her mind on a completely different wavelength. Pivoting around on the heels of her feet, Anastasia's tight-lipped smile dropped and, both forearms crossed, she rubbed both hands in an upward and downward motion along her upper arm and, before she spoke, a humorless laugh escaped her lips, greatly alarming Caroline as she dropped all pretenses. "I'm just… thinking. This, this plan! It better work, Caroline. It must. Ezra died, okay? For a freaking fake rock he knew nothing about, all because of this plan, so, I cannot accept failure," crazy eyes intently met Caroline's cornflower blues.

Caroline instantly shot forward and engulfed Anastasia in a tight embrace, caressing her hair in the hopes of soothing her, "It will work, Ana. I don't doubt you for even a second, 'kay?" Whatever else Caroline was about to say got cut off by a familiar grating yell of surprise that came from the direction of the living room. The blondes, one of which was armed with her desperately needed caffeine refill, quickly joined the others where they could clearly see Elena and Jeremy's stiffened forms, both of them sporting shell-shocked expressions, standing at the foot of the stairs, eyes focused on Elijah in unadulterated fear.

Glaring widely at the room in general, Elena spat out, a trembling finger pointed accusingly at Elijah, "What the hell is he doing here?!" For his part, the Original calmly stared back, unruffled and wholly disinterested, though the corner of his lips did subtly curl in distaste at the youngest doppelgänger's appalling and unbecoming manners.

Rolling her eyes, Anastasia addressed her dramatic twin, "You came to me for help." She gestured over at Elijah, "Well, there you have it." And adding more salt to the wound, she deposited herself right beside the noble Original, perched on the arm of the sofa he sat on. Jeremy simply stared at her, rendered completely speechless by his sister's familiarity and comfort with one of the most dangerous beings in the universe. Elena on the other hand, her vocal chords were still intact and she wasted no time in spitting acid at her twin, "Seriously? He tried to kill me! Ana, how could you?!" Her doe eyes flickered until they settled on Jenna and John, betrayal shining through.

"Oh my God! Hypocrite much?" Caroline snidely remarked, sneering at the doppelgänger, who looked grossly taken aback at the negative energy directed towards her – after all, nobody ever questioned Princess Elena. "You reneged on your deal, Elena. You literally stabbed him in the back after he attempted to save your life from your completely pathetic mockery of a suicide. Now-" exhaling harshly from her nostrils, Caroline plastered on her trademark cheerful smile and sprightly bent over to tackle Anastasia in a suffocating hug, "-I'm running late as it is. I want to catch Matt at the Grill for his break, so I'll see you guys later!" she stared at them meaningfully and with her hand, a thumb held near her ear and pinky finger pointed at the mouth, wordlessly gestured for them to call her before waving at the room in general and sauntering out of the house with a pep in her step.

Lexi smirked at Elijah upon seeing her eldest friend absently shoot a fond smile at the front door as it slammed close behind the bright and bubbly Miss Mystic Falls, a mischievous gleam in her soft brown orbs.

Noticing Elena part her lips for some form of a rebuttal, Jenna authoritatively snapped, "Be quiet and sit down!" Hazel eyes burned into Jeremy, "Both of you." Obediently, Jeremy took a seat beside John and, after much hesitation, Elena glumly followed, ensuring she was tightly wedged between Jeremy and the arm of the couch. "Now, for your information, Elena, Jeremy," Jenna continued in a no-nonsense nuance, her tone and glare daring them to interrupt. "Elijah's been amongst us the entire time and he's been a great ally, the reason why we've been steps ahead of Klaus."

Fuming, Elena crossed her arms tightly against her chest, grumbling inaudible words under her breath, and, much to her displeasure, Jeremy seemed more open to hear what they had to say. "Traitor," she hissed, the puerile accusation only heard by those in the room in possession of enhanced hearing; Elijah's distaste in regards to the doppelgänger, if possible, soared.

At that moment however, the front door burst open, a frantic Alaric in the lead with the Salvatore brothers shadowing him, both of whom instantly growled at the sight of Elijah in the same room as their damsel in distress, and went to shove their way into the house, forgetting about their lack of invite and therefore, colliding harshly with the threshold barrier. Simultaneously, John and Mason sprang into action, both of them armed with a crossbow which they wasted no time to aim at the three newcomers. Eyes wide, Jenna jumped to her feet, glaring heavily at who she assumed to be Klaus and screamed, "Get out!"

Palms up and out, Alaric exclaimed, "It's me, Jenna, I swear. He let me go. Klaus let me go."

Only Stefan and Damon seemed certain. But, before anyone could respond, demanding proof, Anastasia decisively stated, "That's definitely not Klaus."

Elijah dipped his head in agreement, prompting relief to travel around the room.

"How can you be so sure?" John curiously inquired, trusting his daughter wholeheartedly, his paranoia quelled. Letting out a particularly sharp snort, Anastasia's sapphire orbs sought out Alaric's relieved gaze, "Well, for starters, he isn't trying to undress me with his eyes. Let me tell you, that was creepy." She shivered for emphasis and suppressed her laughter at the overprotective expressions that quickly took ahold of John and Mason. Unseen, Elijah adopted a grim look, a flash of pity and guilt crossing past his hazel-brown eyes.

And then, before the congregation could inquire over Klaus' benevolence or process current events, Damon opened his big fat mouth, his lack of mouth filter rearing its ugly head, "We've got an advantage here! All Anastasia has to do is talk with Klaus, convince him to leave Elena alone and get the hell out of town." He sent Anastasia a positively crude and disgustingly lewd smirk, "You can finally make yourself useful by putting yourself out there and taking the role of the little blonde distraction. Problem solved!" The moment he concluded his degrading speech, Damon found himself kneeling on the ground, twisting unnaturally in tempo with the nauseating cracks that signified the excruciating breaking of his bones. "Ahh! Stop it!" he snarled in pain before blood pooled out his mouth and onto the ground.

"Anastasia, STOP IT!" Elena shrieked, frantically joining Stefan behind the threshold in his useless endeavor of sparing Damon further pain by simply mumbling empty words and manically throwing his hands around. Forest green eyes beseeched the furious blonde, her irises shifting from sapphire to orange, "Ana, please, stop. Please!"

Eyes returning to their natural color, Anastasia released him. Taking a step forward, her gorgeous features contorted into murderous rage; she sneered at Damon's fallen form as he coughed and spat out the remnant blood from his mouth. "You're one fucking piece of work, you know that? How dare you! I'm not some tart willing to open my legs to anyone, least of all for precious Elena's sake. You know…your brother's girlfriend you're so repulsively infatuated with," she snidely taunted, her skin literally heating up and producing an eddy of steam as her anger surmounted. And then, Anastasia heard it, Damon's thoughts, as it blasted through the recess of her mind, words unequivocally clear that only succeeded in exacerbating her temper. "Not even to save my sister's pathetic, undeserving life," she snarled, subtly responding to his thoughts. "And no, she wouldn't do the same for me if that's what you're thinking you piece of scum. Hey Elena-" adopting a saccharine tone, she allowed her eyes to connect with her twin's tearful browns, "-remember the time when Katherine Pierce threatened to go on a Gilbert family killing spree? Remember when Jenna stabbed herself by mistake?" Her lips twisted into a vicious sneer, her next words acerbic and sour on her tongue, "It could have all been avoided if you just closed your fucking legs and temporarily broke things off with Stefan. But you couldn't."

Affronted tears fell down Elena's face, Stefan looked away in guilt, and Damon appeared apoplectic, not the least bit ashamed at the inappropriate suggestion he made. No; instead, Damon Salvatore was enraged on poor Elena's behalf – the love-struck fool!

"That's enough!" Elijah authoritatively bellowed, pointlessly buttoning his jacket and brushing the lint off his sleeves before allowing his penetrating gaze to travel between each and every single individual, "We do not have time to squabble amongst ourselves. Tonight is the full moon. We should assume that Klaus is prepared to break the curse…" and then, for Elena, Jeremy, Alaric and the Salvatore brothers' sake, Elijah divulged an abbreviated version of the Curse's true origin and of his relation with Klaus. Suffice to say, Damon's distrust of the noble Original intensified and even Stefan looked uncertain, the vampire brothers enraged over the fact that Elijah had been un-daggered the entire time. "I do not care about your petty thoughts," he dryly proceeded, his expression frozen on distaste as his gaze flickered between the troublesome and ill-mannered duo. "The only reason I allowed you two to stay is for one reason and one reason only. To protect Elena until Klaus arrives for her."

Stefan shook his head, his fingers curling around Elena's wrist as he pulled her protectively into his side, "No. I won't let Elena get sacrificed."

"He doesn't have to break the curse. We can kill him today. With Bonnie," Damon snarled, glowering daggers at Elijah and Anastasia, only for Elena to profusely disagree, unwilling to barter Bonnie's life for hers. "I'll write her a great eulogy," he furiously quipped.

"See, this is why we prefer excluding you from battle-plans," Mason spoke up, shaking his head to further validate his point. "You're a bunch of overgrown, immature children who either wants everything to happen your way or no way! You don't listen, you don't think, you have no patience. No strategy. Nothing! If you'd both shut up and listen, you'd realize we weren't finished."

The Original courteously inclined his head at the werewolf's direction, "My thanks, Mason." And, pretending as though Damon and Stefan hadn't interrupted, he elaborated the events that would be occurring that night. "Now, the ritual itself is relatively straightforward. The ingredients, so to speak, you already know. A witch will channel the power of the full moon to release the spell that's bound within the stone. After that, Klaus being both werewolf and vampire will sacrifice one of each. The doppelgänger is the final part of the ritual. Klaus must drink the blood of the doppelgänger to the point of death," he clinically revealed, almost apathetic to Elena's cause and that, more than ever, infuriated the vampire brothers.

Snarling at John in an accusatory tone, Damon glowered at him, "And what? You're going to let your daughter get sacrificed for some dick hybrid?"

Glaring hateful daggers at Damon, Anastasia scoffed inwardly, 'So, now, he's her father. Funny how that only happens when it's beneficial to Elena.'

"That the thought even crossed your mind proves you're an even bigger idiot than I initially believed," John retorted, nodding over at Elijah for the great revelation. From the shelf under the coffee table, Elijah withdrew an archaic-looking wooden box, holding it reverently with both hands before setting it on the table, showcasing it to the entire room, Damon and Stefan inching closer to the threshold to get a better look, curiosity palpable in their eyes. From inside the box, Elijah pulled out a delicate clay jar, "This, is an elixir that I acquired some five-hundred years ago for Katerina. It possesses mystical properties of resuscitation."

Elena gasped, eyes bright with renewed hope and intent on the jar, "So I'll be dead."

"And then you won't," Elijah matter-of-factly stated, meticulously inserting it into its box. If only it were so simple; Damon emitted a sardonic scoff, "That's your plan? A magical witch potion with no expiration date?"

Anastasia glared daggers at the pessimistic, whiny vampire who had once been considered a very dear friend of hers, "Any witch worth their salt would correctly sense the potent magic imbued in this elixir, Damon!"

Disregarding her, the hotheaded vampire beseeched Elena, "You want to come back to life, what about John's ring? Or even Jenna's or Alaric's!"

"You truly are an arrogant individual lacking a brain," John sneered, his features screaming disbelief and sapphire orbs ablaze with unmitigated rage. "If my resurrection ring had a chance of restoring Elena's life, I would have instantly handed it over without a second's hesitation. Elena is a doppelgänger, a supernatural occurrence, they won't work on her."

Challenging him, Anastasia firmly spoke up, relief surging when Elena and Stefan appeared to be in agreement, "This is going to happen, Damon. You don't like it, leave. By tonight, Klaus will be dead and Elena's life will be restored. Don't fuck things up!" But deep within, Anastasia had an ugly feeling, a horrible suspicion, that Damon would do exactly that, for Damon Salvatore only brought about death and destruction ever since he stepped foot in Mystic Falls.

Cutting in before Damon could volley back some sharp retort, Elena, amenable to her sister's plan, inquired, "Do we know if Klaus has everything he needs to do this? Does he have a werewolf?"

Lexi buried her head in Lee's chest in order to mask her mirth; if only the Scooby Gang knew Klaus was short the most important ingredient…

"Klaus has been waiting to break this curse for over a thousand years. If he doesn't already have a werewolf, my guess is by tonight, he will," Elijah confidently disclosed, eyes boring intensely at Anastasia in particular, concerned. Her plan would soon reach fruition, a plan that revolved completely on the moonstone, yet, doubt gnawed at him… unbeknownst to all but him, the success of their plan dangerously hung in the balance on Anastasia's confrontation with Klaus in his original body and, for the first time in centuries, Elijah felt nervous.

At that precise moment, Mason's cellphone rang.

---

Turning the corner, Mason haphazardly parked his truck at the designated spot in front of Mystic Falls General and swiftly grabbed his phone.

Over half an hour ago, he received a call regarding Carol. According to the receptionist, she fell down the stairs, but Mason wasn't buying it. In fact, nobody did, most especially Elijah, his reaction noticeably stuck on skepticism. It was glaringly obvious that Carol's 'accident' was Klaus making his move in order to lure a werewolf for tonight's sacrifice.

Mason was torn between concern and indifference; Carol was fine and would be back on her feet in no time and without the moonstone, he had nothing to worry about. But Mason, despite their previous altercation, loved his nephew and, unlike him, Tyler had no clue that he was walking directly into a trap. His duty as an uncle compelled him to race to the hospital and protect Tyler. Unfortunately, his path was blocked by – surprise, surprise – none other than Damon Salvatore who took advantage of the confusion and Elena's proximity to Stefan behind the threshold to rip into his wrist and force-feed her vampire blood, taking matters into his own hands, as usual!

His idiotic, impulsive and selfish decision rendered the life-restoring elixir utterly useless and chaos ensued.

For once, Anastasia's intervention wasn't required, her desire to murder him waylaid by Stefan who repeatedly pummeled his fist into Damon's face. As Elena broke into hysteric tears in the background, blood dripping down the corner of her mouth that signified the choice robbed from her, an unapologetic Damon didn't bother holding back, retaliating fiercely and nearly killing Stefan. The brawl was, grudgingly, intercepted by Lexi and Lee, both of whom forcibly restrained the brothers and after a few chiding words from Elijah that hit Damon below the belt, he stormed off – good riddance!

Afterwards, everyone split up.

Elena wanted to spend her last day human with Stefan and Jenna didn't have the heart to deny her of last wish. Elijah returned with Lexi and Lee to their abode to prepare for the full moon and the endless possibilities now that Damon mucked everything up and threw them off course. Jenna and John accompanied Jeremy to the old witch house to flip through the plethora of grimoires in Bonnie's possession in hopes of finding a loophole that would prevent Elena from becoming a vampire. Which left Anastasia and Mason; the former had the final phase of Plan B to complete and therefore, decided to have a little chat with Gloria before heading out; after bidding her goodbye, Mason jumped into his truck and drove like a maniac to the hospital, hoping to somehow detain Tyler and protect him from Klaus.

Clambering out, Mason's heart dropped at the sight of not only Tyler, but Caroline, the sudden epiphany hitting him like a freight train: Klaus intended for Caroline to be the vampire sacrifice.

"Tyler! Caroline!" he frantically called out, trying and failing to sound calm.

Simultaneously, both teenagers whipped around, Tyler sporting a grimace, his posture reeking of shame and guilt, and Caroline with her trademark smile that instantly slid like grease and morphed into a frown at the realization that something had gone awry, having grown accustomed to reading Mason's expressions.

"Mason? Wha-" a pained gasp cut her off, a sound she belatedly realized came from her. A scream quickly followed, blending with Tyler's and her hands clasped both sides of her head in agony, unused to being bombarded with multiple aneurysms without reprieve.

Two witches materialized from between the parked cars and before Mason could lunge at them, Maddox extended both his arms, each hand forming a claw, one aimed at Tyler and the other at Mason. As the werewolves collapsed onto the ground, unconscious, Greta injected Caroline with a potent dose of vervain.

Smirking at Maddox, Greta jutted her chin at Mason and said, "Let's go."

When Mason next awoke, he found his forehead pressed against the steering wheel of his truck, untouched, unhurt and unrestrained. Blinking away the remnants of sleep and embracing his confused state, realization, in an excruciatingly slow motion, dawned on him, recognizing his surroundings.

He was in the driver's seat of his truck in front of Mystic Falls General and Tyler and Caroline were gone…

Snatching his cellphone from the dashboard, an agitated Mason quickly punched in Anastasia's number. "We have a problem," he grimly informed her the moment the blonde picked up.

---

Rooting through the fridge for a blood bag, ecstatic she was allowed to retain mobility as opposed to being compelled to stay seated and continuously butcher her thighs for hours on end, Katherine's gaze fell on her prize – universal donor, her favorite! – and she promptly reached for it. Unfortunately, the telltale sound of a key grinding into the lock interrupted her afternoon meal, followed by the apartment door swinging open.

Furious at the interruption, Katherine slapped her lunch on the kitchen counter and stormed toward the front door to get a better look at the intruder, knowing it couldn't be Klaus. She blinked in surprise; he never struck her as the suicidal type. "Look who's dumb enough to come back," the manipulative vampire crossed her arms and cocked her hip, dark orbs assessing him. "So which one is it, you got a death wish or balls of steel?" she smirked, morbid amusement coating her words. A quirk of his lips, Alaric stayed behind the threshold of his apartment and inclined his head to the side, "Somebody had to invite him in. Damon, would you like to, uh, come in?"

Trademark smirk in place, Damon strutted inside, electric orbs piercing her, scrutinizing her less-than-stellar state, "Look at that, Katherine Pierce lives."

"Don't sound so disappointed, Damon," she quipped, secretly glad for the company that warred with the diminutive spot in her heart that felt concerned for his wellbeing if Klaus were to come back early from whatever errand he claimed to have – probably a massive killing spree. "What are you doing here? Trying to get me killed?"

He simply stared, contemplating, his smirk never wavering. "Appealing as that sounds, unfortunately not. Figured with how well Klaus blended in as Alaric, he must've had some coaching and, well… Alaric's return confirmed my suspicions. I come bearing gifts, your salvation," and he proceeded to pull out a phial of clear liquid that could only be–

"Vervain," wonder colored her tone and hope shone in her orbs, her tough-girl façade cracking as endless possibilities circled in the recess of her diabolical mind, all of which resulted in loopholes that would liberate her from both, Klaus and Elijah's compulsion. "Give it to me," she nearly lunged at the vampire in her excitement but Damon saw it coming. Closing his hand around it, he arched an eyebrow, a patronizing smile replacing the smirk he patented over a century ago, "Not so fast. I want an answer first. You double-crossed us with Isobel, why?"

'I HAD NO CHOICE!' her mind screamed at him.

Pursing her lips, she practiced silence while she controlled her turbulent thoughts. Truth was, even if Elijah and Anastasia hadn't gotten to her first and she hadn't been trapped under the former's compulsion, Katherine would've still betrayed Stefan and Damon the moment Isobel pranced into town with her plan, never mind the fact her friend and descendant had been under Klaus' compulsion at the time. Due to their nauseating love for Elena, the Salvatore brothers were sloppy, incapable of formulating an ironclad strategic plan because at the end of the day, Elena was their weakness and they wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice the world if it meant keeping her safe. Anastasia on the other hand, as much as Katherine loathed to admit – even to herself – was absolutely brilliant; the lucky bitch had been blessed with beauty and brains, for crying out loud! Despite her convoluted plans and terrifying foes, the blonde always came out on top and had a knack for making friends and allies out of the most unlikely individuals – Exhibition A being Elijah. The major setback of Ezra getting killed by her occurred because of the Scooby Gang's incapability to string together an acceptable plan, and Katherine was a hundred percent certain that, if Anastasia happened to be in town at the time, neither Ezra nor Jeremy would have been anywhere near the Tomb. …But it was all moot point now, because from the very beginning, and Katherine still had trouble connecting all the dots, the moonstone had been a fake. Yes, if Katherine had it in her to trust and build alliances, Anastasia Gilbert would be the obvious and smartest choice, unfortunately, Katherine burnt that bridge the split-second she snapped pretty Ezra's neck – a shame.

Elijah's compulsion taking hold of her, Katherine swallowed back her initial response and settled on the typical, manipulative statement everyone expected out of her, "I didn't think you could stand a chance against Klaus, so I was looking out for myself." After all, Katherine Pierce would always look out for herself.

"And where did that get you?" his mocking inquiry was accompanied by a sneer. Shaking his head, he tossed the phial, "Here." She didn't waste a second; the moment the salvation was within her grasp, she uncorked it and swiftly imbibed it in one go, the burn as the liquid caressed her esophagus eliciting a minuscule cough. "Obviously, my benevolence isn't from the goodness of my heart," he glared at her pointedly. "You owe me. And I will collect." His mood swings were starting to make her dizzy; all hostility evaporated and he spared her a mockingly pleasant smile, "Starting now."

Shrugging, Katherine massaged soothing circles on her throat, "I've been heavily compelled, Damon. I don't know what you're expecting to get out of me already."

Gesturing for Alaric to step out and muttering quick instructions to hurry back and keep Elena from handing herself over, Damon turned his attention back on Katherine, who's confusion had reached its peak. "I need to know where Klaus is keeping his werewolf."

A perfectly sculpted eyebrow jumped, nearly hitting her hairline, "Let me guess, no werewolf, no ritual? You can't interfere, Damon. Klaus will kill you and everyone you've ever met!" Not that she particularly cared for the town or the friends he made, just Stefan. But, Elijah's parting rebuke incessantly revolved in his head like an irksome mantra, awakening him to the stupidity and selfishness of his actions…

"She'll never forgive you. And never for a vampire…It's a very long time." – Damon robbed Elena of her choice, just like Stefan did him, and ever since he completed his transition, he's hated his brother for it. He shuddered, his entire being consumed in agony, at the mere thought of Elena loathing the ground he walked on. His perpetual life without Elena would be his version of an eternity of misery, and he couldn't have that. He had to fix what he arrogantly and thoughtlessly wrought, and the only way he knew how, was by delaying the ritual another month. Running into the Original Dick at the Grill only succeeded in fueling his decision.

It took a bit more cajoling to receive a straightforward response from the manipulative bitch, bringing up the subject of Gilbert twins to seal the deal. "What if I told you Elena had vampire blood in her system," he smirked, a knowing quality to it and Katherine didn't fail. Her eyes threatened to bulge out of their sockets, radiating utmost horror. "Imagine how much fun that will be, competing with Elena for Stefan's love for, I don't know, forever." He allowed his statement to sink in, enjoying Katherine's nightmare come to life and then, he went for the kill, "It'll definitely put a kink in whatever Anastasia's planning. Didn't she torture you? C'mon, Katherine. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Help me out here."

"The tomb!" the confession burst through like an explosion, "He's got them in the tomb."

No sooner had Damon left, did Katherine charge back to the kitchen counter and rip into her blood bag, her irritation prompting her to go for seconds and thirds in order to satiate herself. "Fucking Gilberts!" she hissed to herself.

"Hope you're not talking about little ol' me," the mellifluous voice that prompted the automatic sensation of consuming her with dread, pervaded the room, a malevolent nuance in her tone. Shaken, the blood bag, its contents emptied, fell onto the ground and, in excruciatingly slow motion, she turned around to meet the one person she feared more than Klaus, praying to a God she didn't believe in that she was just a mirage. A chill coursed through Katherine's body at the sight of the shark-like smile on the subject of her trepidation's gorgeous face, pearly set of teeth on display. Her nightmare come to life confidently sauntered into the apartment, slamming the door shut with an almost absentminded flicker of her hand, the casual display of her progressing powers succeeding in intimidating her. "Miss me?"

Unwilling to show fear in the face of her nemesis, Katherine attempted – it being the key word – to adopt a fearless disposition, her attitude unleashed. "What do you want?" she bit out venomously.

A shoulder shrugged in insouciant and, quite frankly, insulting, nonchalance – no one, no one! treated the infamous Katherine Pierce with such disregard. "From you? Personally, I want nothing," Anastasia casually disclosed, the heels of her stilettos resonating in the tension-filled space as the blonde scrutinized the room with calculating sapphire gems. "I'm actually here to see Klaus, and what do you know-" her all-knowing gaze, intent on her and brimming with frightening intensity, collided with chocolate brown, prompting the feeling of being trapped to course through her, "-as luck would have it, my timing has been most fortuitous. Imagine my surprise when I came here to find Alaric and Damon paying you a visit. Personally, I thought it'd be rude to interrupt," she reeked of sarcasm, a mocking shade in her tone that terrified Katherine to her core and she started taking a few subtle steps back, away from the blonde's line of fire. "What did they want, Kathy?"

She was adamant that she control her fear, not only of the blonde and the terrifying power she wielded, but of the repercussions that would befall her if Anastasia Gilbert were to sniff any hint of deception and discover she had ingested vervain. In order to protect herself and prevent a future of being further compelled like a slave, a future of entrapment by two powerful Originals on opposing sides, compelling her to their hearts' desires until one has been defeated once and for all, Katherine – all semblance of sanity vanished – impetuously lunged. Her vampire face emerged, prompted by her all-consuming desire to spill Anastasia's blood all over the floor and end her reign of terror effective immediately.

Deceptively innocent hands attached to slender wrists that obliterated thousands upon thousands of lives encircled the base of the blonde's swan-like neck in a sickening parody of Ezra's last moments. However, the precise moment Katherine's skin brushed against the blonde's, she was blasted backwards by a wall of fire and cocooned in a mass of flames, violently licking against her skin.

"My, my. How bold of you, Kathy. Did you really think getting rid of me would be that simple? That I had no precautions against you? All the torment inflicted on you, coupled with your captivity must've addled your brain, darling," she crooned, taunting and mocking her, ensuring every word could be heard by the shrieking vampire before her, the potency of the flames a mere illusion but the pain very much real. Abruptly raising a hand, the flames receded and Katherine's agony dulled, enough for her to provide answers. "So…Damon, Alaric, what did they want?" her tone and expression mimicked a door-to-door saleswoman, persuasive balanced with the right amount of boredom. The vampire's stubborn silence elicited the flames to spark with renewed life and she instantly caved, "Damon! He, he wanted to know where Klaus was keeping the werewolf."

Mind racing, the dots connected with ridiculous ease. "He plans on delaying the ritual another month. His idiocy knows no bound, truly. Over a thousand years with one goal in mind, did Damon honestly believe he didn't have a backup werewolf?" she skeptically muttered to herself. Astute eyes flickered back to the vampire, pinning her in place with fear alone and its startling intensity, "Naturally, he bribed you." At the shock that flittered across her face, Anastasia let out a bark of mirthless laughter, "Oh, please, I've got you pegged, Kitty-Kat. The information must have cost Damon. Something must have been in it for you or you wouldn't have squealed. Question is, what…"

"She cannot know about the vervain! Lie; make it the best performance of your immortal life! You can do this! Just make it convincing."

Anastasia's sharp intake of breath coincided with Katherine's lie, "He fed Elena his blood. I'm not looking forward to an eternity of fighting with my dull-as-dishwater doppelgänger for Stefan's affections!"

"Nice try, Katherine," Anastasia smirked sharply, resembling a merciless predator as she loomed over her. "A+ for originality but if it's any consolation, you get a big, red F for the attempted lie." And, before Katherine could get a word in, embellish some pitiful excuse or further elaborate on her lie, Anastasia threw an arm forward, palm facing the vampire and fingers bent in a claw gesture as she started to drain Katherine of her blood, including the ingested vervain, the desiccating vampire's hope and the minuscule dregs of her freedom going down the metaphorical drain as blood gushed out of her facial orifices – her eyes, ears, nose and mouth a macabre sight.

Hearing the commotion and the familiar screams of agony that resembled music to his ears, Klaus deliberately took his time in entering the apartment, an eyebrow arched at the intruder's carelessness upon finding the front door ajar. Blue-green orbs raked the familiar back ingrained in his head, having deduced the intruder's identity due to the aromatic scent that was uniquely hers he had committed to memory, having followed it from the window of her room. "Quite sloppy, leaving the door open like that, anybody could just walk in," he hummed absentmindedly, his attention captured and mind frozen at the gruesome scene playing out right before his eyes, completely rendered speechless at the girl's brutality and non-human ability. She isn't a witch! He was absolutely certain of it; Servants of Nature had a distinctive scent that Anastasia Gilbert lacked.

The heady combination of his voice, the right amount of husky and raspy balancing each other out, the definition of pure sin, had her body react instantaneously and she suppressed the carnal desire that bombarded her, coursing through her, enticing her like only Lucifer could. Squaring her shoulders, Anastasia released Katherine, leaving the blood-coated and grey-skinned vampire a spluttering and moaning mess on the floor, huddled in a miasma of anguish. Radiating a healthy mixture of confidence and indifference, Anastasia gracefully pirouetted on her stilettos to face who she knew to be Klaus – in the flesh. "Not really. After all, I did come here for a little chat with yo-" she inhaled sharply, sapphire gems widening at the man that stood before her.

Achingly familiar pools that resembled the Caribbean Sea she had only seen once before stared back at her, the perfect blend of blues and greens alternating in the light, framed by long lashes the same color as his tousled honey-blonde hair. Sculptured cheekbones, hard jaw, a devilishly handsome face she once claimed would make a sculptor envious; the reincarnation of Adonis. He stood tall, around 5'11" and possessed a lean body, intricate muscles hidden behind his stylish ensemble, making her at a complete loss for words, her brain having shut down temporarily.

"Nik?"

Klaus tensed, flashing in front of her at the speed of light until he towered over her, eyes widening a fraction, "What did you call me?" Only two people ever called him that, both of whom were daggered and safely ensconced in their respective coffins. Shaking her head, Anastasia, as though awakened from a trance, took a step back, her expression the epitome of horror, "Oh my God! It's you! You're Klaus!?" It wasn't a question, more like a horrifying observation. "Oh God!" she sounded positively nauseated, and Klaus arched an eyebrow, surprised at her profound and quite poignant reaction.

"I apologize. You seem to have me at an disadvantage here, Anastasia-" and damn, the blonde hated how utterly exotic her name sounded bursting forth from his perfectly shaped raspberry lips, his tongue sensually caressing the four syllables that made up her name, making her weak in the knees and for butterflies to explode in her stomach, her heart aflutter. "-you seem to have acquired intimate knowledge of me and yet, I do not recall seeing you beyond my possession of Mr. Saltzman." What he really wanted to say was: beyond dreams of you that had been haunting me for more than half a millennium. "Care to enlighten me?" only he had a certain knack of politely formulating demands.

"It's, it's nothing. I, I thought I recognized you…" she trailed off, squinting at him. "A picture or something. I can't point my finger on where," not a complete lie. She did recognize him from a picture and she knew exactly where said picture currently was: hanging on the wall of her favorite witch's bar who she would be trading a few words with once the ritual was completed.

Eyebrows arched in disbelief, Klaus' mouth parted to call her out on her lie, but before he could get a single word in, Anastasia threw a hand overhead, prompting his fingers to sharply curl into a fist and his lips to slam shut, curiously scoping the room for any subtle changes. The blonde channeled all her frustration, all her anger, all her hatred into her enigmatic powers and throwing her fist in the air, she willed Katherine's neck to snap, the loud resonating CRACK that pervaded the room signaling her success.

"Impressive," Klaus inclined his head, appraising her as though she were the most valuable treasure in the universe, orbs ruthless and calculating. Hands behind his back and fingers interlaced, he circled the unconscious vampire's form. "Katerina ruffled your feathers, love?" he smirked.

"She did murder my boy-, my boyfriend," Anastasia snarled, venom and malice in her tone and Klaus felt an inexplicable surge of jealousy upon detecting the genuine love the blonde still felt for the deceased mortal. "Nearly murdered my father and my aunt, did kill my best friend which activated her transition into a vampire, and has been terrorizing my town. So forgive me for not treating her leniently. Not that you particularly care. Besides-" she jumped onto the kitchen counter and crossed her legs, a cocky smirk materializing on her face, "-we have business to discuss, and I'd rather not have a manipulative two-faced eavesdropper listening in on every word."

Expression blank, Klaus stepped over Katherine and slowly, his footsteps calculated, approached her, "Business?"

"Negotiation, if you prefer," she carelessly batted a hand in the air, acute orbs scrutinizing his every move. "But if you want me to be blunt about it, I'm here to propose a deal."

His laughter echoed in the confined apartment, the sound lacking humor and severely critical. "Allow me to wager a guess, you want to offer me years of servitude or something of the sort in exchange for your sister's life. Sorry love, no deal."

But, to his surprise, her gorgeous features contorted into malice, sapphire gems flashing a vibrant orange for a nanosecond, too quick for a mortal's eye to capture. Barking out a vitriolic laugh, Anastasia jumped from the counter to stand on both feet, glaring at him, "Right, naturally you'd jump to that conclusion. After all, who wouldn't gladly without hesitation sacrifice themselves for perfect, sanctimonious Elena?" Her antagonistic behavior towards her twin truly shocked Klaus to his core, for even he, the 'heartless, unmerciful bastard' would instantaneously go through hellfire if anything were to befall his siblings. "No dice. That's never gonna happen, so get that ridiculous notion out of your mind, thank you," she sneered. "I'm a master strategist, okay, don't insult my intelligence."

"My apologies," he performed a mockery of a bow, his lips quirked in amusement at the fiery blonde, a natural spitfire. "Very well, what deal did you have in mind?"

Her entire stance and her facial features transformed; standing confidently and unafraid, she impishly stared at him, squarely meeting his curious gaze, "Tell me, Klaus. How exactly where you planning on breaking your curse without the moonstone?"

And the penny dropped. "You!" he snarled, accusingly.

"Me," she calmly retorted – too calm, in fact, it was eerie, even to Klaus, for everyone, even his siblings, cowered at his rage. Raising a hand, she interjected before he could begin spewing off threats, "I have every intention of returning it but only after we reach an accord." He continued to glare at her, clearly unreceptive which prompted her to snap, "My boyfriend died for that fucking rock! I've kept it safe from passing through a plethora of grubby hands, all of which intended to use it against you! In centuries, it hasn't been protected like it has been in the months I've had it in my possession! The least you can do is hear me out!"

Taken aback, Klaus uncomfortably cleared his throat and looked away, allowing her to roughly wipe the tears that unwittingly cascaded down her mesmerizing face. "Very well. Speak," he obliged. Her only response, was to wordlessly reach into her purse and pull out a piece of paper, a list of names written in – he sniffed – her blood! Recognition dawned on him and he stared at her in awe, fascinated at her intimate comprehension of ancient, binding magic and its intricacies. Yes…Anastasia Gilbert was more than she initially appeared, much more, and he itched to uncover all her secrets, shedding every single layer snugly and tightly wrapped around her. Carefully, as though the flimsy cheap piece of convenient-store-bought paper was the most priceless artifact in the universe, Klaus released it from her grip and read aloud, "John Gilbert, Jenna Sommers, Jeremy Gilbert, Mason Lockwood, Caroline Forbes, Carol Lockwood, Lee Quinn, Lexi Branson, Stefan Salvatore, Trevor, Henry Wattles… what is this?"

"A list of those I wish to be placed under your protection. I want your vow, your signature in blood, that they will not come to harm at your hands or orders. In exchange, I shall hand over the moonstone," she sternly stated, not a hint of deception in her tone. Laughing in disbelief, he said, "Just like that… and, what happens if they take advantage of my leniency and plot against me, hmm. What then?"

"They won't," she assured the paranoid Original. "If, however, they do, or you fear some form of retribution from their end, come to me and I'll sort it out," she spoke without a shadow of a doubt, her confidence in her ability to wrangle her list of loved ones intriguing him. He emitted a noncommittal hum, "And am I supposed to simply take your word for it, a girl I know nothing about?"

She did a grand flourish of her hand, eyes intensely meeting his, "You may be many things, Klaus, I do not know exactly what, but… what I do know, is that you are a man of your word, and when you make a deal, you keep it. If I am to trust you with the lives of my loved ones, I hope you can trust me to keep my word."

Eyes widening, his jaw clenched, anger etched on every line of his face. "Elijah!" he hissed.

Anastasia merely looked bored, "He's a good friend. But that's neither here nor there. Do we have a deal?"

Delaying for the sole purpose of allowing him to gauge Elijah's whereabouts and whether or not he had a tragic accident with a certain dagger, Klaus said, "I noticed a few names missing. Such as your sister and the other Salvatore. The Lockwood boy…"

"Elena will die tonight. There's no avoiding that. I barter for her life and I risk many more," she coldly divulged, her voice resembling the Arctic. "Damon, I couldn't give a rat's ass about and Stefan? Once upon a time, I considered him one of my best friends, and while I still hold on to a sliver of hope that he may one day be my friend again, he is Lexi's and I won't rob her of her best friend. Tyler…" sighing, she trailed off for a moment to collect herself, thoughts of Tyler's actions before he skipped town with the murderous she-wolf still enraged her, the sense of betrayal never leaving her. "I was fully inclined to talk you out of sacrificing Tyler and using a certain werewolf called Jules, simply because I adore his uncle and mother and I don't want them to mourn his loss. But, well, Katherine took matters into her own hands," she gestured towards the near-desiccated vampire.

Whirling around, Klaus' nostrils flared and he rolled his eyes, not the least bit surprised, "Vervain." Flickering to the puddle of blood, he smirked, the puzzle pieces finally connecting, realizing he had walked in on Anastasia draining her, "She reeks of it."

"Yes, Damon came bearing gifts," she stated with a lazy roll of her eyes, uninterested in the hotheaded vampire's fate. "If I were to hazard a guess, I'd say he killed whichever witch you ordered to guard Caroline and Tyler and freed them. You have spares, correct?"

"I do," Klaus shortly stated, dialing Maddox's cellphone and receiving no reply, corroborating the entrancing blonde's words. Exhaling a gust of breath, Klaus nodded, more to himself, and allowing his vampire face to emerge, bit into his arm, inwardly amused at the blatant look of fascination that made an appearance on Anastasia's face. He stomped on the slight stirring of affection that started to evolve within him as he dipped the tip of his finger into a glass filled with his blood and proceeded to sign the handmade contract, concluding their deal.

A genuine smile lit up the luciferous blonde's face; Anastasia enthusiastically snatched the paper, meticulously deposited it into her bag and consecutively pulled out the moonstone. With bated breath, Klaus watched as Anastasia handed the real moonstone over, easily able to sense the potent magic imbued in the rock in his true form.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you, Klaus," the air of farewell in her voice as she turned to leave. He didn't want her to leave; every cell in his body urged him to delay her, to keep her. However, before he could come to a decision, she paused and turned to look at him from over her shoulder, her expression indecisive, "Trevor, he was a vampire that served you around five-hundred years ago, he told me about the time he found a drawing of me. He said it was your drawing. I just, I want to know… how?" – "How did you know to capture my face?" "How did you know I would cross your path back then?" "Am I doppelgänger? If yes, did you know her?" "How come I feel like I should know you, that you mean something to me…?" – Many desperate questions abridged into one word: how.

Blue-green orbs turned flinty, an icy quality to it. Turning his back on her, Klaus coldly stated, "Coincidence," the subtle demand for her to leave crystal clear.

Frowning, with a heavy heart, Anastasia stormed out of the apartment, deciding that, if she wanted answers, she was going to have to find them herself. As the door slammed behind her, it signified the end of the moonstone chapter; after months of thorough planning, Anastasia finally put Plan B to rest and prepared herself for the next chapter of her life.

---

Norway, 1400,

Three years had passed since John Holm departed to the Bright World and Ástriðr finally lost the will to live, a will spurred by sheer stubbornness and the pleas of her children, her four gems unable to lose their mother immediately after their father. For the sake of her children, Ástriðr fought against nature, forcing her soul to adapt just a little while longer without its other half. Her children needed her and Ástriðr never could refuse them anything, especially with grandchildren in the mix – a lethal combination.

But the years came and went, and the start of the 15th century marked Ástriðr's defeat.

As Ástriðr began to perish from heartbreak, her soul slowly leaving her body to join her soulmate, the banished princess found that she had been laid on her bed – always on her side, John's side of the bed left empty in commemoration – surrounded by her loved ones, her precious children, their respective spouses, and her beloved army of grandchildren.

A tiny hand clasped her bony frail one; her sapphire orbs, still sharp despite her age, sought its owner and her withered face crinkled into a smile at the almond-shaped orbs, an emerald green, the exact same shade as her mother, Queen Sigríðr, staring back at her with a healthy mixture of innocence and curiosity. "Annbjørg, what is it?" she managed to hoarsely inquire.

Four-year-old Annbjørg, the youngest and only daughter of her eldest, John Holm Jr.'s three children, curiously inquired, "Are you going to visit Farfar?" (Farfar – paternal grandfather)

Many intakes of breath reverberated in the squalid, overcrowded room. John and his wife, Anja turned to scold their youngest for her insensitivity if it weren't for Ástriðr's jovial laughter. Tightening her grip on the tiny hand, Ástriðr joyfully exclaimed, "Oh, Annbjørg. My little Annie. You do very much remind me of myself when I was your age. According to your Oldefar, my Far, I am the one responsible for most of the gray in his hair." Her twinkling eyes collided with John Jr.'s stormy grays, an exact replica of her dearly departed soulmate before flickering back to abnormally large emeralds. "I mourn the fact that I shan't be here to watch you grow, min elskede Sunnedatter." (Oldefar – great-grandfather & Far – Father & min elskede Sunnedatter – my beloved Granddaughter/daughter of son)

"So, are you?" three-year-old Njål, the youngest son of her youngest, Sigríðr, probed, just as rebellious and as mischievous as his cousin. Sigríðr fondly rolled her eyes, resting her head in the crook of her husband, Njord's neck. Laughter in Ástriðr's eyes, she uttered an affirmative, a yearning in her voice that elicited poignancy for her children.

Her granddaughter Silje, the eldest child of her son Holger and his wife Reidun, who, at fourteen, was a proud romantic, giddily squealed, "Can you tell again the story of how you and Farfar met?"

No persuasion needed, Ástriðr licked her dry lips and began narrating her and John's tale, one that starred as her children and grandchildren's bedtime story – a family tradition.

"He saw me coming, my John. Oh yes, he did…" Ástriðr proceeded to speak of the Black Death that plagued Norway and the death of her friends that led to the depression and state of melancholia that consumed her. John Holm apparently, had recurring dreams of Ástriðr and kept an eye out for her until one day he saw her jump and didn't hesitate to follow, saving her from the watery depths. And the rest was history… upon laying eyes on John, she knew; John was the one, her one, the other half of her soul and, shortly afterwards, they wed. Their children followed, their precious gems: John Jr., fraternal twins Holger and Hilde, and lastly, Sigríðr, named after her beloved mother.

As her gravelly voice permeated the room, the congregation latching on to every word, her sharp sapphire orbs travelled between them, devouring their faces and committing them to memory: John Jr., his wife Anja, and their children, sixteen-year-old Amund, ten-year-old, Bård and Annbjørg; Holger and his wife, Reidun, and their children, Silje, eleven-year-old Simen and Sindre, nine-year-old Solfrid, and five-year-old Steinar; Hilde and her husband, Tollak, their children, thirteen-year-old Torgeir, eleven-year-old Torhild, eight-year-old Unn, five-year-old Varg, and two-year-old Ylva; Sigríðr and her husband, Njord, their horde of children, nine-year-old Kåre and Kari, seven-year-old Lauritz and Leiv, five-year-old Alva, Njål, and the latest members of their large family, three-months-old Bergliot and Brynhild. As her gaze stopped on each and every one of them, Ástriðr's pride intensified – oh, if only John could see how their family had grown…

She didn't sense the life leave her, didn't realize her last breath escape her, or even her soul float skywards as it left behind her corpse for her family to grieve and bury.

One minute, Ástriðr was elaborating the tale between two soulmates that found and lost one another, and the next thing the banished princess knew, she stood in the Bright World, her youthful visage restored and fully intact, her husk of an elderly woman left behind as an imprint on Earth. Sapphire orbs refocusing on her surroundings, they collided with the achingly familiar stormy gray orbs of John Holm, his youth as well, completely restored and looking exactly as he did the day she met him, forty-five years ago.

"John?!" she cried out in unadulterated joy.

A bright smile lit his face as he crossed the distance between them, "Ástriðr!"

The two souls reunited and once again, merged as one.

---

Night had fallen and Elena had been taken by Klaus, which was when Anastasia joined the others at the old witch house, curious to see if anyone made any headway in regards to keeping Elena human – a hopeless endeavor in her opinion. Many humans in transition hoped otherwise, for a loophole, anything, only to eventually come to terms with the fact that if they wanted to survive the next day, vampirism was the only way. But of course, it's Elena! Poor, precious Elena was and would always be, a special case scenario. A disgusting notion that turned Anastasia's stomach inside out, the double standards and the hypocrisy sickening her.

Taking a step into the creepy house and immediately, John, Jenna, Elijah, Lexi and Lee snapped their gaze onto her, the silent question vivid in their eyes. Dipping her head, Anastasia winked in a subtle affirmative before she scoped the dusty and musty room everyone seemed to have congregated in and she frowned, "Where's Caroline?" The question was initially directed at Mason until she mentally facepalmed, recalling their plan of locking him up nearby due to the full moon and therefore, her uncle figure was currently absent.

"Uh, Damon called a while back," Stefan awkwardly cut in; he couldn't stop fidgeting, concerned and anxious about Elena. He couldn't relax knowing that Elena was about to watch a horrific sacrifice take place and ultimately die while he was safely ensconced with all her loved ones, just waiting it out until the opportune moment – it felt… wrong. But unfortunately, he had to stick to the plan. "He's on his way. Caroline and Matt are holed up at Tyler's until the sun comes up."

Meeting depths of forest greens, the blonde cocked her head in confusion, mouthing the name before blurting it out, "Matt?" Apparently, Damon gave a hastily summarized explanation to Stefan, who subsequently relayed it to the others when they too voiced their shock at the busboy's inclusion. Lips pursed, Stefan nodded, "Yeah, from what I managed to understand, Matt was on vervain when he had Caroline compel him to forget…" He trailed off at the palpable fury bubbling on the blonde's features.

"We'll take care of that later, Sunshine," John had approached her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, a knowing glint in his eyes. He too, must have arrived at the same conclusion as her when he first found out – when Matt disappeared after Caroline confided in him, he had blabbed to the Sheriff, who had him on vervain and convinced him to act as her mole. Smiling weakly, Anastasia planted a kiss on his cheek.

Noticing Elijah's attempt to capture eye contact, Anastasia firmly met his gaze. He gave her a pointed look and walked out, prompting her to obediently follow. His back was to her, hands clasped behind his back, eyes fixated on the horizon, and she waited. "I admit, I had a few doubts when you left to confront Klaus," his voice a mere murmur, he suppressed the urge to gauge her expression in his attempt to appear neutral.

"I know. I still have trouble with the why part though," she slowly responded, taking the necessary steps until she stood right beside him, their shoulders a hairsbreadth from touching. Astute sapphires calculatingly studied his face, his impassive mask tightly locking his emotions away. Exhaling softly, he turned a fraction to meet his gaze, hazel-brown orbs unable to conceal the spark of sorrow and guilt that flashed past, "Niklaus didn't tell you?"

Anastasia glowered. "Tell me what?" Instead of offering a response, an explanation, he stubbornly maintained his silence, prompting Anastasia to clump a ball of hair in her clenched fists in a sign of pure aggravation. "What's with all the secrecy? What's so bad that you're adamant I stay in the dark?" Silence. "You know what! I had to fight with myself, Elijah. I had to literally force myself to leave Klaus this afternoon when all I wanted to do was save him!" That elicited a stark reaction from the composed Original, his jaw slightly agape and eyes boring into her intently with knowledge and pity and…was that fear? "But I didn't!" she hissed, reassuring him, a barely audible sigh of relief escaping him. "I think I deserve to know why I'm feeling that way, why I care about what happens to that, that mo-him!" she swallowed thickly, inherently incapable of insulting Klaus.

"If only I could provide you with the answers to which you seek," he sadly uttered after a long beat of silence which was spent processing her confession, not a single word surprising him. Elijah could have sworn that, as those pools of sapphires glared at him, they hardened into shards of ice, her gaze literally turning glacier. "Can't or won't?" she snapped, crossly folding her arms and turning to leave, unable to stand being around him at that moment.

His cryptic response had her indignant rage melt into confusion. "I'm afraid it is both. I will not tell you because I cannot…" She arched an eyebrow, hoping it would be enough to will an elucidation out of him, but instead, Elijah changed the topic, "As a token of my apology, I shall confide in you an important factor about your father, Anastasia."

And that was how Anastasia found herself storming over to John, cornering him with a slew of angry demands. "What were you thinking?! Why? What possessed you to do this? What?"

"Elijah told you," he sighed morosely. He should have known; somehow, Anastasia managed to crawl her way into the Original's heart and take residence there. Elijah and Anastasia shared a bond, a platonic one – thank God! – therefore John knew that Elijah would be the one to cave and not Bonnie or Jeremy – having kept Jenna, Lexi and Lee in the dark, knowing that they, like Elijah, would have a hard time accepting his decision and run to Anastasia to change his mind, something the blonde would have excelled in as John could never refuse her anything…he never could. He reached out to her, "Ana, there's no other way-"

Shrugging his hand off her shoulder, Anastasia ground her teeth together, "YES, there is! Screw Elena, Dad. Screw. Her! We already know she's coming back, albeit as a vampire, but she'll still be alive. Make Bonnie reverse it!"

"I love you, Sunshine," he tearfully proclaimed. "And despite everything, Elena is my daughter, my blood, just like you. I love her and I refuse to let her become the one thing I've spent my life protecting the both of you against. I have the chance to spare her from the pain of that life, I have to take it. When you are a parent, you'll understand, Sunshine."

Roughly wiping the incessant rivulet of tears that wouldn't stop cascading down her bronze face, the blonde screamed, fighting tooth and nail to prevent her father, the only parent she had left, from making an enormous mistake. "You don't get it, do you? Dad, whether it's tomorrow, or next month, a year, or even two years from now, Elena will eventually become a vampire! As long as she hangs around Stefan and Damon, as long as Damon's in her life, he won't let her die, and if he has to force his blood down her throat again to keep her from dying sometime in the future, he will, and gladly. You're just delaying the inevitable. You're throwing your life away! Please, don't do this! This is me, your daughter, begging you."

He squinted in an effort to repress the tears from escaping and looked away, the veracity of her words hitting him like a punch to the gut. Everything Anastasia said, he already processed them before demanding Bonnie to cast the spell; he only hoped that Jenna would be enough to severe Elena's ties with the Salvatores and keep her away from that certain path. He had to believe. While she never acted it, Elena was his daughter and it was his duty to protect her.

"I'm sorry. I hope one day you'll understand why I have to do this," he whispered, placing a lingering kiss on her forehead before walking away, leaving the blonde to collapse on the dingy floorboards, bury her tearstained face in her thighs and cry her heart out at the impending loss of the last parent she had left.

She didn't know how long she stayed there, how much time had passed; too paralyzed by grief and the death looming closer on the horizon, after all her planning, strategizing an ironclad plan for months that would keep her loved ones safe from spontaneous consequences and probable revenge fantasies that Elena burdened them with just by existing, for being born a doppelgänger, and for toying with and stringing along two vampire brothers – one of which was incredibly volatile and the other with an addiction to blood that transforms him into a Ripper with one sip – that had baggage and a plethora of enemies. It couldn't end this way. It was a bittersweet ending, her father, Dear John, sacrificing his life for Elena's, a girl undeserving, a girl who had yet to even grudgingly accept the fact that John was her father.

Suddenly, a gust of wind hit her, evoking an epiphany. Phantom hands wrapped around her, infusing her with unnatural calm and prompting her to lift her head and slowly gather herself, shooting up to her feet. Red-rimmed eyes stared ahead, shoulders squared and she confidently walked onward…

She knew what to do.

---

Daylight…

The ritual had come to pass; Damon arrived not long ago with a dead Elena in his arms, a sullen Stefan and enraged Bonnie not far behind and with the trio's arrival, they brought upon devastating news. It wasn't the fact Klaus used Jules as the werewolf sacrifice – good riddance in Anastasia's opinion – and some random woman recently transitioned into a vampire, but Elijah's betrayal. Just like Anastasia had predicted and informed Elijah of weeks ago, Klaus hadn't buried their siblings at sea and that confession was all it took for Elijah to discard the plan to kill Klaus, turn his back on them and whisk the hybrid away.

Truthfully, Anastasia breathed a subtle breath of relief at that revelation. For some confounding reason that rankled, the blonde needed Klaus alive, the mere thought of him dying hurt so much. Existing in a world without Klaus was tantamount to torture, a perplexing notion since Anastasia recently learned about his existence.

From afar – Anastasia practically glued to John's side – father and daughter observed as Jeremy, Stefan, Damon, Jenna, Alaric and Bonnie crowded around Elena's still form. They watched and waited until finally, chocolate brown orbs snapped open and she took her first gasp of life, shooting upwards and immediately getting swallowed in Jeremy and Jenna's embrace.

A sad smile pulled at John's lips and he reached for Anastasia's hand. Grabbing it, their fingers tightly interlaced, John tore his gaze from the heartwarming sight, his eyes flickering to the only source of sunshine in his life, moisture accumulating in his eyes at the realization that Anastasia had eyes only for him, identical orbs hungrily devouring him, committing every single feature, every single flaw, to memory. He parted his lips, and emitted a feeble 'love you' before he took his last breath. His legs gave out, but before he could collapse harshly onto the ground, Anastasia was there, both arms extended, catching him and steadying him before she reverently laid him on the ground, tears pooling in her expressive eyes and falling down her face as she softly, lovingly, rearranged his lifeless head onto her lap, trembling hands stroking his sharp cheekbones.

"I'm sorry…" she trailed off, eyes locked intensely on her father's peaceful face, ignoring the commotion from behind, especially Lexi and Lee, both of whom had suddenly realized something was very wrong and began to approach them.

Flashback: A few hours back;

"We need to talk," belying her bloodshot, puffy eyes and tearstained face, Anastasia radiated calm, her stance composed as she cornered Bonnie, her tone hard, unwilling to take no for an answer.

Sighing, Bonnie, her face the perfect picture of guilt, looked away, unable to hold eye contact with the blonde, "You know."

"That my Dad's willing to sacrifice his life for Elena," she venomously spat out. "And that you were the one to go along with his suicide plan. Yeah, Bonnie, I know."

At the blonde's tone and the obvious blame directed at her, Bonnie glared back, rediscovering her backbone, "He wouldn't take no for an answer, Ana! I tried to convince him otherwise. Jer and I tried. I didn't sugarcoat anything. I laid the truth out and-"

"Well you didn't try hard enough!" Anastasia screamed, both hands in the air and clenched into fists. "You could have just walked away. You're as stubborn as a damn mule, Bonnie, you could have refused! Problem is, you didn't want to. You were grateful that Elena would come back human with John's death. Because it's Elena. It's always Elena! As far as I'm concerned, his blood is on your hands. You're the one that'll kill him. So much for being Glenda the Good Witch, huh?" she sarcastically sneered, glaring at her without mercy and taking pleasure in watching the witch's dark complexion pale.

Biting her lower lip, Bonnie shook her head, but before she could come up with another "It's Elena" excuse to justify her deplorable actions, to justify another life lost, Anastasia cut in, "Funny how you're slowly killing off my loved ones. Jeremy nearly died to save your pathetic life which ended with Ezra sacrificing his life for Jeremy's. That's on you!" A small part of Anastasia knew she was channeling all her rage onto Bonnie… while a part of her did blame Bonnie for putting Jeremy's life in danger and for Ezra's death, a greater part blamed herself. "And now you want to take my father, my Dad, away from me?" Unable to listen to Anastasia's harsh words, Bonnie attempted to leave, but Anastasia blocked her way, stepping in front of her and disregarding her personal space. "You owe me, Bonnie Bennett."

Wringing her wrists, Bonnie stared at her once upon a time best friend with sadness in her hazel-green eyes, "There's nothing I can do, Ana. The spell's complete. I bound John's life force to Elena. I can't undo it and even if I could, I wouldn't. It was John's choice!"

"Save me the righteousness, Bonnie! You only care about Elena. Not John! So shove your empty apologies," she snapped, her astringent words hitting Bonnie like crudely carved daggers in her gut and she flinched. "You. Owe. Me! You want my forgiveness? You want to make it up to me for Ezra's death then you'll do this for me."

"Do what!?" Bonnie huffed out, confused and slightly terrified by the desperation, terrified at the lengths Anastasia would go through and what she'd have her do.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, Anastasia fixated her imploring gaze on a pair of hazel-greens, her tone ringing with determination, "I want you to do the spell again. Bind my life force to John's."

Confused sapphires snapped open as he took a lungful of fresh air, the life having returned to him. He stared, bemused, at the bittersweet yet genuinely happy smile on his daughter's face and attempted to lift his head from her lap. "Anastasia… how, what-" his blood ran cold, a shiver running down his spine. "What did you do?!" he gasped, fearing her response.

Yet it did not come.

Sparing him one last smile, Anastasia exhaled her last breath; the entire time, from the moment John's body hit the ground, her soul had been slowly departing her body as it fed life into John's, her life force flowing through him and restoring him to life.

Her head lolled lifelessly against the ground as her limp body fell backward onto the grass, like a marionette with its strings cut off. Glassy sapphires stared blankly at the morning sky, unseeing and completely devoid of life.

"No! ANASTASIA, NO! WHAT DID YOU DO!?" John roared, desperation hugging every word, his voice reeking with potent fear. Lexi and Lee flashed before them, only to gasp aloud at the lack of heartbeat thundering against the vivacious blonde's ribcage. "No…"

Anastasia Gilbert was dead.

A/N: Whew! Finally! After being absent for so long, here you go, a long chappie as an apology!

This chapter had been a long time coming, an exciting plot-twist I had planned since I started this story! XD

(1) This chapter was very important and tough to write because it's the first time Anastasia and Klaus meet when he's in his actual body. Did you like it? I tried to make their meeting realistic and not all love at first sight, OMG *swoon* LOL! I hope you all understood the references I put up in that confrontation. In case anyone forgot, it's from the Chapter where Anastasia met Gloria Chapter 25. (2) Some of you might be annoyed at the cryptic responses Elijah and Klaus offer Anastasia, but she won't be getting her answers until Season 3, the middle at least. (3) About Katherine; some might be understandably pissed off in regards to her fear of Anastasia, a 'mortal'. Truth is, everyone has someone they're scared of. Katherine is terrified of Klaus and even Elijah at some point in Canon. To Katherine, Anastasia is an anomaly, untouchable, and the only way she could hurt her is by threatening and killing her loved ones. I do promise that big bad Katherine will make a comeback. I have many plans for her. (4) To all that begged me to find a way to let John live, there you have it! It has always been the plan, BTW. I wasn't going to kill him. In this story, John Gilbert plays a MAJOR role, one that nobody will see coming and one that hasn't been done before. (5) Also, I received a review a while back from a Guest and from RomanceAddict95 regarding Anastasia's attitude, the latter not appreciating my bashing on Elena. This is an Elena bashing story, I am sorry… if you prefer Elena portrayed in a good light I have many other stories up where Elena is awesome. That's all I can say. However, Anastasia isn't without flaws, she isn't perfect, and yes, she does have a tendency to be a hypocrite. Anastasia isn't some righteous, paragon of goodness Mary-Sue character and when it comes to protecting her loved ones she is a huge hypocrite… so yeah. (6) And just to clarify something: Anastasia IS dead. Dead, dead. How the story proceeds, you'll have to wait and see, I have a major plot-twister coming up that'll blow your minds away. See next chapter ;)

Next chapter will be the LAST one for Season 2, and I will have it out in a week, two tops as I'm excited for Season 3 where Klaus will be starring as a main character! ;)

R&R.