"Here you go, baby. This was all I could gather."

Sheila handed me a few sheets of paper, one of them folded and made from a thicker type of material— a pamphlet. One of the sheets had notes, numbered and sectioned off by lines. The sheet after it had a drawing of the floor plans of the main building, where the medical section was located. The pamphlet also had a map, though it was less detailed than the one Sheila'd created.

I pursed my lips. "Any backup generators?"

"In the basement," Sheila specified. "Access there is restricted, as is the side entrance which will bring you closest to the side where the generator is located. You will have a very limited amount of time from the main generator shutting off and the backup turning on."

The pamphlet had some pictures of students in the medical ward. None of the backgrounds looked too familiar, but I wasn't betting on recognizing one of them anyway.

"You're absolutely sure the cameras are supported by the main generator? Not a secondary source?"

Sheila leaned forward, elbows on her knees. Her expression was earnest. "Dear, I've taught there since before you were born. I may not know every single detail about Whitmore, but I can tell you that what you're holding there," she gestured to my hands as she spoke, "is all correct. Whitmore's had a few blackouts in the past, and the cameras are not advanced. It's a very simple system."

I raised my brows questioningly. "Is it mandatory for professors to know about the inner workings of the campus?"

"Like I said, I've taught there a long time. I just know these things."

"Well," I focused my attention back on the papers, "I appreciate the help."

I scanned through them, absorbing the information as best as I could. Everything written was straight forward, which I'd been expecting. The difficult part would come with the actual execution of a plan. Especially considering the backup generator with lots of doors along the way, cameras pointed right at them.

Shutting off both generators would take a lot of power, and then the doors would prove to be another challenge. If Damon didn't comply, and I had to save Enzo on my own, I would be forced to bring Bonnie (absolutely not Sheila. I refused to make her use her magic more than necessary) and either Stefan or Lexi. More people meant a greater chance of being caught, and more humans meant being slower. Not to mention Enzo wouldn't trust any of us and we'd most likely have to inject him with vervain or snap his neck. And then have a vamp carry his dead weight outside.

I folded the papers carefully and tucked them into my bag. They held everything I needed to know about the campus, specifically the building we were targeting. Despite the challenges this mission was sure to bring, it wasn't something I had to completely worry about right this moment. A problem for future me.

"Sam," Sheila called, and I snapped violently out of my thoughts. "I am still in disbelief about Whitmore having this...Augustine Society."

Our eyes met and I smiled remorsefully. "So am I, Grams."

She lowered her gaze, shaking her head as if chasing away a bad dream. "I've worked there for so long, dear. Never had I seen or heard about what had been going on with these experiments. Even Rudy previously functioned as a Board Member there, when I used to teach consistently. There were no warning signs."

I shifted in my seat to rest a hand on Sheila's knee. "Sometimes warning signs don't exist. Some things just...are. They happen. They grow and thrive and we have no idea. What matters is doing something about it once we know it's there."

"I am concerned for you, dear." Sheila patted my forearm, almost subconsciously. Her wrinkled hands were soft and gentle. I leaned into the touch, searching for familiarity and safety. "Not everything can be predicted. Even with your unheard of and rare gift, it would be against nature to allow such a gift to exist without consequences."

"What are you saying?" I asked, even though I knew exactly what had been said. My stomach was tense, coiled tight like sharp wire. "Why are you bringing this up?"

"The safety of you and Bonnie are my priority. I may be old, but I still have my life experience and opinions. I want to share this with you."

I started to grimace, but instead pressed my lips together. Sheila's intentions were good, and I had no doubt that what she would say was true. She knew far more than I did. She had lived more than twice my lifespan and was still standing. You have to stop thinking you can do this alone.

"Okay, then," I agreed, swallowing thickly. "Tell me about the consequences."

"There are two possibilities," Sheila began, leaning back in her seat with her hand still patting my forearm. "The first is that you are able to predict everything regarding the future without hindrance and therefore will have a weakness, or perhaps weaknesses, because of this. The weakness will balance out your gift in whichever way nature deems fit. This is similar to vampires being immortal but not unkillable."

I was human, so would it attack my only other supernatural ability? Would I have weak magic? Or no magic? Or would it make me easier to kill? Maybe prone to sickness, to injury? "And the second?"

"You may face problems regarding your gift," Sheila continued. "Your visions may be vague, inconsistent. Perhaps even delayed or misleading. Your gift itself would be a consequence in this case. Being able to properly comprehend and therefore interpret the future into something understandable to not only yourself, but to others, could be a punishment in itself."

The gift that isn't really a gift. To spend my entire time here, in this universe, suffering would be like a slap in the face. My only purpose is to be miserable? The fucking irony.

"Well..." I trailed off, hesitant. "Personally, it seems like both are undesirable."

"There must always be a balance," Sheila reminded me. "And with that balance, a negative must be created for every positive. Currently, we do not know which possibility you may face, or even if the rarity of this gift can result in a third, completely separate option. Or perhaps even a mixture of the two. Therefore, we need to tread carefully."

I had been treading carefully since the beginning, it felt like. I was scared of risks and scared of consequences. This body and brain, though different from mine (different from who I used to be) were transparent. Anger issues, insecurities, violent and impulsive tendencies mixed in with the desire to escape. I let it get to me too much before. Let it guide my decisions and words and found myself in situations that were avoidable. Especially when my own anger triggered Sara's, a severe domino effect that would leave me spiraling before I knew it.

But there was a balance to everything, like Sheila said. Even my identity crisis. I could use what was presented to me and use it to my advantage. My inaction and Sara's overabundance of impulsive tendencies could be tamed. I was willing to tame them.

"Is this your way of saying you don't want me to break Enzo out?" I asked.

"It is my way of expressing concern. I'm your grandmother, I will never not worry about the safety of my grandchildren."

"You're not trying to dissuade me?"

Sheila smiled, eyes shining with amusement. "Dear, I will always offer a healthy amount of dissuasion. If only to have you think it through one more time."

I returned her smile, felt some tension I hadn't been aware of ease from my shoulders. "Thank you, Grams. For helping put a lot of things into perspective."

"You have a heavy future ahead of you. But we have faith you will do everything you can to protect others. We have faith you will do the right thing."

The walk from Sheila's passed in a blur of colors. In a daze, I kicked my shoes off when I stepped inside my house. My running shoes were by the door, covered in dry mud and dirt. They sat there, still. A vivid sensation of exhilaration swept through me.

I shuffled down the hallway and spotted Bonnie taking a nap on the couch. I wondered if she had seen my shoes. If she knew that I had gone out last night. I headed straight for my room and threw myself on my bed, my muscles still sore. I could feel how easy it would be to just close my eyes and sleep.

But, it was never really that easy, was it? I had my face stuffed into a pillow, bones still melting into my mattress. Yet my mind was racing. My heart was, too. A leftover of last night, a residual anxiety sticking to me like a second skin.

My phone vibrated beneath the covers, off somewhere to my right. I steadied my breathing, startled. The screen was lit up with Stefan's name.

"What's up?" I rubbed my eyes and rolled onto my back, throwing an arm over my face to keep the daylight out. "You still worried about last night?"

"Yes," Stefan answered, yet his tone made my stomach clench in automatic fear. "I'm calling about something else, though."

I sat up, sheets falling from my body and folding along my legs. "Why am I scared to hear about this "something else'?"

I hadn't meant to ask the question out loud. It'd been meant for myself, but Stefan didn't seem phased by it.

"Someone from the Founder's Council came by today." Instinctively, I curled a hand around my necklace. Why didn't I see anything about this? I thought— "They wanted me to give them vervain."

"Son of a fuck," I hissed involuntarily, heart racing. I stumbled out of bed, beginning to pace. "What—what did you do?"

"Well," he started but paused. I could hear the faintest sigh on the other end. "They took most of the supply."

"Did they say why?"

"The man said the council would call me in a few days to clarify, but in the meantime would prefer if I tried my best to grow more of it."

I slumped over, one hand buried in my hair. There were no out of place memories, no weird occurrences that I could think of, which could possibly connect to this. I didn't have a vision of this. But why? It's so important, so drastically important. I thought this would be fixed. I thought I had taken the first step toward getting better.

"How—how did he even know you knew about the vervain?" I fumbled for words, attempting to keep my cool. "I'm lost here."

"Before he left, Zach had told the council about me living with him. They were under the impression that he was my guardian due to my parents passing away. He let the council know that I was aware of the vervain's location, but not its purpose."

"They still think his absence is temporary, I'm guessing?"

"Yes. Although I'm sure that it will soon become apparent that it's permanent."

"Shit, dude," I worried, throat incredibly dry. "Shit, I didn't—I didn't know this was going to happen. I'm sorry for not being able to give you a heads up."

"Some things have to be unpredictable, right? To keep some suspense in our lives."

I huffed a bitter laugh. "It would be boring otherwise, I guess."

"Don't worry. I tried my best to not raise suspicions."

"How do you think you did?"

"I know my way around acting clueless." I could hear the smile in Stefan's voice, a slight tinge of amused smugness.

"I'm still convinced it isn't an act," I quipped. Stopping dead in my tracks, I sobered up immediately, another question coming to mind. "Who was it, anyway? The guy from the council?"

"He said his name was Logan Fell."

There was a spark of recognition. I blinked, vague memories swirling in my mind. "I can't exactly pinpoint him, but I will say that I'm getting entitled asshole vibes. No bueno. Just throw the whole man away at this point kinda dude."

Stefan barked a laugh, and while the sound shook some of the nerves off my back, I still couldn't ignore the weight that rested there.

"Acceptance is a powerful thing. Once you fully accept who you are, your visions will begin to blossom. You will begin to blossom."

I pressed my palm against my forehead, attempting to ground myself. "What should we do about the fact that a vampire-hating council has a bunch of vervain and probably a lot of bloodlust in them—pun intended?"

"It sounds like Lexi and I should start increasing our intake of it. Bigger doses, just in case they are planning something."

"Once you do so, everything will fall into place."

"Yeah," I said, eyes unfocused and trained to the ceiling. "That's a good idea."

My ancestors tried their best to encourage me last night. They helped me connect things I had been missing, emphasizing their trust in my abilities. But I should have had a vision. I should have seen this coming. Am I still in denial?

"Don't worry. We'll figure something out. Let me get Lexi and we can strategize."

"We believe in you. We all do."

—

—

Damon caused a lot of issues (when did he not, really) by killing those people when he came into town. The council knew the moment the first bodies were found that it had to be nothing other than a vampire. From then on, our cover was fucking blown. And (really), I should've seen this coming. Why didn't I see this coming?

Chill, I thought. You can't possibly see everything. Take it easy.

Even Damon's previous plan of bringing a wild animal and placing it in the woods wouldn't work. Jeremy had confirmed Miranda's suspicions. There was no covering this up.

"What about Katherine?"

I stopped mid sip of water. Slowly, I turned to look at Stefan. He'd been leaning against the kitchen counter, watching as I attempted to make banana bread. "What about her?" I drawled, eyes narrowed.

He shrugged nonchalantly, but I could immediately tell he was trying to act casual on purpose. "Do you think looking for Mason Lockwood would be our best strategy for tracking her down?"

I scowled behind my glass cup. "Why are you bringing up Katherine all of a sudden?"

Another shrug. I resisted the urge to make a face at him. "You're trying to undermine how important she is in the grand scheme of things."

Bonnie chose that moment to walk into the kitchen. She raised her brows and glanced between us. "Are you two arguing again?"

"Yeah, Stefan's being a stubborn piece of—"

"No, Bonnie," he interrupted swiftly. "We're not arguing."

"Wow. It sure sounds like it."

She peered into the mixture of banana bread I'd begun to furiously mix during my conversation with Stefan. Gently, she touched my elbow in reassurance. I softened, relaxing.

"Stefan," I started, already exasperated but knowing that if our roles were reversed I'd be stubborn too. "If you want to find Katherine, go ahead. But you'll be doing it alone. I'm not helping you." Stefan's expression hardened, but I held my ground, chin jutting up defiantly, firmly. "If you decide to use Mason Lockwood to find Katherine, then be my guest. But you have to be discreet. You can't be sloppy. Katherine is cunningly smart and if she catches wind that she's being watched and followed then we might as well just give up now. I'm not kidding."

Bonnie reached around me to sprinkle in some chocolate chips. I let her take over the mixing in favor of grabbing a glass pan.

Stefan didn't say anything. His expression had morphed into something neutral, something unreadable. I sighed, pressing a palm to my forehead. Don't be such a bitch. He's only trying to help. Use your words for goodness sake. "Trying to find her would just be a waste of time and energy," I added, eyes downcast. "I'm not going to lie to you. She is important. But she is also impossible to find. It would be easier to wait for her to come to us. Which she will. For now, we have other things to focus on."

The mixture was poured into the pan and placed in the oven. My hands were shaking slightly and I tried to calm my nerves which always seemed to be scattered these days. I collapsed into a chair and frowned to myself.

"I—I'm really sorry. For my mood swings, my secretiveness. As much as you may want to know something, or as much as I may want to tell you, I can't. This future stuff—I can't mess with it."

"I know," Stefan murmured. He sat across from me, hands clasped in front of him. The lines on his forehead smoothed slightly, but he still looked incredibly older. Instead of a fresh faced (and immortal) 18 year old, he looked as if the weight of his 150 years alive were crushing his spine. He nodded, gave a brief smile. "I'm sorry for being so pushy."

My eyes stung, sharp and familiar, as water slowly fogged my vision. I cleared my throat, pushing my emotions down, down, down until I could brave to look Stefan in the eye again. "Don't apologize. I'm being such a bitch."

"Nothing new there," Bonnie commented with a grin, taking a bite out of her sandwich. "I feel left out so, I'm sorry for nothing. Except maybe talking with my mouth full."

Stefan's smile widened, amused, and for a moment—a perfect, brief moment, I felt weightless. Bonnie's answering smile, sweet and bright, carried me up high. The moment of peace and comfort was over too soon. The hard back of the chair dug into my shoulders and I could do nothing but slouch. I was so tired, yet nothing had really happened. The real stuff was still yet to come.

"Don't...tell anyone about Mason Lockwood and his connection to Katherine. That's—that should be kept between the three of us."

"I won't," he agreed.

When the banana bread was nearly done, the kitchen warm and smelling sweet, Stefan reached into his pocket and brought out a small, clear plastic bag. He set it in front of me, on the kitchen table.

"What's this?" I asked, half-standing. I rested my knee on the chair and reached over, lifting the bag toward the overhead light.

"Earrings," Stefan answered. "Lapis lazuli to be exact. They're for Lexi."

The flash of dark blue was unmistakable. The earrings themselves were small and discreet, framed by gold metal and circle shaped. I dragged my finger along the smooth front of the jewelry, marveling in its simplistic beauty.

"They're lovely." I gently lowered the earrings, cradling them in my hands as if it were something irreplaceably precious. In a way, it was. At least, symbolically speaking. Bonnie peered over, curious. "Didn't think you'd be able to find jewelry so soon."

Stefan kept his eyes fixed on the earrings, lips ticked up in a faint smile. "I've had them saved for her for quite some time. It was only a matter of getting them professionally cleaned."

Bonnie made an approving noise. The light reflected across the smooth surface once more, subtle glow of purplish blue mesmerizing. "I'm sure she'll love them," Bonnie said. "And love you even more."

Stefan laughed, that boyish charm flooding back. His eyes held a certain light to them that I would only see when he looked at Lexi. "I hope so."

"I'll get them to you tomorrow," I promised. "Come by in the morning, before the sun rises. Do you already know where you want to take her?"

"I found the perfect place to watch the sun rise." He met my eyes, expression sincere. "Thank you for this."

"Anytime, Stefan."

—

—

Cold air. Sharp wind. I can feel it through the layers of clothing. The woods are dark and damp and I am free. I am safe. They have assured me of its lack of threats. Roots, high and uneven and almost as thick as my thighs, curl out of the ground below. It is a challenge to run and not fall, one I accept gratefully.

"Sam," a voice whispers, the word grazing along my mind as if a caress, "it is time."

My body functions on autopilot, running and jumping and side-stepping obstacles with intense focus. My mind burns with power. I am not alone. I can feel my ancestors soothing me, allowing me the opportunity to escape physically while my mind is somewhere else.

"Time for what?" I think back, hands scraping against rough bark. "What's happening?"

"You are growing into your powers, hija." My mother—she is the most prominent of my ancestors. The necklace fuels her strength on this plane of existence and it, in turn, fuels me. "You have been repressing yourself for so long that your abilities were not blooming healthily."

"The compass—" I pause, playing back the memory of it. The echo of a scream burns my eardrums, but I can't bring myself to mention it. "Is that what you showed me?"

"The pieces were always in front of you, Sam. You just had to put them together. We only helped you."

My lips taste of dirt, the ground soft and forgiving beneath my feet. It smells of dying plants and old trees—autumn is near.

"Visions?" I ask, but there is no question. No doubt. What has been bubbling in my chest for weeks now—fear and denial—bleeds through. The truth had been sitting right in front of me and all I had to do was turn my head and look. But I refused. I never let my eyes focus on it, choosing instead to let it linger in my peripheral, choosing instead to let it rot and fester like an infected wound."I'm really psychic? Permanently?"

"There is no other kind. Does this upset you?"

I trip and fall on my knees. I can barely differentiate the trees from the gaps between them. Everything is various shades of black. A shaky hand presses against my mouth. Hard. My front teeth cut through the thin skin of my lips from the sheer pressure. The taste makes me gag.

I struggle to inhale, to give my body the oxygen it needs. My heart is racing away in my chest. It bangs against my ribs, demanding to be let out. Warmth surrounds my collapsed body, settles into the ridges of my being. I attempt to shake it off, but it clings to me like a mother does to a child. The thought alone is enough to make me cry.

"This is real?" I say out loud, part question, part statement, part sob. The woods are dense and the words are torn from me forcefully. There isn't enough air. I can't breathe. "This is real."

The warmth spreads to my chest and my muscles relax. Oxygen fills my lungs, calming my frantic heartbeat. I press my forehead to the forest floor, trying to ground myself; tears stain my face and soak the earth beneath me.

"Breathe, hija. Respira."

My mom's voice only makes me cry harder. I reach out blindly, fingers catching on grass. If this is real, then my mom's really dead. My dad and step-dad don't exist. My brother and nephew don't exist. My girlfriend—

"Goddamn it." My voice reverberates around me mockingly. The weight of the darkness rests on my shoulders and back, juxtaposing the warmth in my chest. "I can't do this. I want to go back to how things were. I want to go back."

There is silence. I can hear my ragged breathing and sniffles only. My ears feel as if they're stuffed with cotton, all sound muted and dull. I blink, and the ground rests against my spine. Above, there is an endless spiral of black. A few sprinkles of white strain to be seen, their light gentle.

"Acceptance is a powerful thing," my mom starts, and I swear I can feel a phantom hand on my forehead. Her voice is soothing, familiar. Hearing her speak fluent English is not as strange as it once was. "Once you fully accept who you are, your visions will begin to blossom. You will begin to blossom."

Frantically, my mind starts to come up with excuses and deflections. I crave that familiar denial on my tongue like a sweet treat, a decadent desire. Maybe if I just close my eyes and sleep, everything will be okay. I can find a way back home. I can see my mom again and hold my girlfriend in my arms. I can take my nephew out to get ice cream like I promised him before I disappeared. Do they know I'm gone? Do they miss me? Or am I still there, like a ghost, while my consciousness rests here, on this plane of existence?

There's a memory—spreading quickly like a single spark of fire to dry brush. It's one of my girlfriend and I on her sofa. Something plays on the TV, the colors dancing across my girlfriend's face. She's petting her dog, a small black chihuahua. Across from us, her sisters scream at the TV before bursting into laughter simultaneously. My girlfriend's body shakes so much from amusement that she almost slips off the sofa. I hold onto her while trying to smother my own laughter, and our eyes lock. She grins up at me, completely relaxed and at ease. I love her more in that moment than I ever have before. I know for certain, as she burrows into my side and cradles her dog between us, beneath our shared blanket, that I am going to marry her.

"Sam!"

I startle, back hitting solid, thick wood. The roots beneath my legs seem to curl toward me in comfort.

"You cannot continue on as you are. Do you not see how it is affecting your health?"

I squeeze my eyes shut tightly. There is little change, everything is still various shades of black. Yet, it makes me feel safe. Fresh tears streak my cheeks and I bury my face in my hands to hide it. My shaking has only worsened. "My health is the least of my problems."

"It is the most important," an unnamed ancestor scolds. "You are the most important."

With that, more tears rush forward without my permission, sliding down my cheeks and leaving trails along my throat. An intense pressure buds on my temples, reminding me of when a balloon is inflated too much and the rubber stretches until it's see through. I want the relief of the balloon bursting.

"You say I'm the only one who has this gift, right?" I lift my head, raising wet eyes to the dense foliage above, barely visible but still there. Watching and waiting. "How did you know about the—about what I'd been seeing? How do you know that...that my abilities aren't just slow in developing?"

This time, I'm certain about the phantom hands. They gently cup my face, and I can almost see my mom in front of me, her face making that all too familiar expression of concern. I nearly pull away from how much it hurts me to see her, fake or not.

"We've been watching you. Mostly to keep Esther and her group of witches away, but also to make sure you were doing well."

"How did you know what to show me?"

The hair falling into my eyes is brushed back. I feel so weak and vulnerable as I lean desperately into the touch. "We didn't."

"I'm confused. How did you…?"

"All we did was find the part of your mind most blocked off," a different ancestor chimes in. "It reeked of denial. It was not difficult to find."

"Did you—did you see what I saw?"

"No, we did not."

I slump back despite how painful the tree trunk felt along my spine. I can't hold myself up anymore. "I don't know what to do."

The solution, as simple as it may seem, will cause me to lose more than gain. Accepting that this is all real, that there is potentially (certainly) no going back—I will lose everything that makes me who I am. The life I lived growing up. The family I had. The family I was building with my partner. My career goals and aspirations. I will have to give that all up just to be able to, what? Have visions? Be a fucking witch? In an entirely different universe? This is ridiculously insane. I want to go home. I want to be fully myself and not a combination of who I know myself to be and the person who grew up here. I can barely recognize some of my mannerisms and personality traits. I can barely recognize my own reflection, younger and more conventionally attractive and athletic. I miss the body I know is mine, covered in stupid scars and dark spots and small bumps. The imperfect mess that makes me up. The person I know is me.

Now, that is gone. I know nothing except who I am at this exact moment. Everything from before waking up in Mystic Falls no longer holds real weight here. I'm the only one who seems to be clinging to it. I'm the only one who seems to be aware of it.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper brokenly. Steadying my breath enough to speak takes up most of my concentration. "I'm sorry I'm not—that I haven't been...listening. This is so hard. It's so hard and I'm so, so scared."

Gradually, multiple phantom hands rest atop mine. I'm surrounded, but it doesn't feel suffocating. I welcome the company.

"Hija, we won't lie to you. You have a heavy future ahead of you. But we have faith you will do everything you can to protect others. We have faith you will do the right thing."

"You are strong enough," someone adds. "You just have to find that strength. It will not come easily, but you will flourish because of it."

Sniffling, I settle into a small nook made by the tree roots. The smell of dirt and leaves is prominent, like a thick perfume which embeds itself right under my skin. Every inhale fills my lungs to the brim. I am drowning without water, and yet a sense of calm buzzes along my nerve endings. Like stripped wire, I lie bare and exposed. I uncoil, straighten. Electricity floods my veins.

For the first time in a while, I willingly allow certain thoughts to come to the foreground. My hands dig into the tree roots, the wood scraping away the thin skin of my knuckles and fingertips. I resist the urge to scream. I don't know where this need comes from. I only know it burns my throat and nearly crushes my chest.

"Stefan," whispers Elena. Her voice echoes, long and drawn out. She sounds tense, out of breath. Her hesitation and fear taint the air. "What...are you?"

"I did something," I gasp, panicking. The memory plays out again, running on loop. "I told Stefan...I gave him advice. And right after I-I saw this."

"What did you see?"

Distantly, I feel the pain of a nail breaking. "Something that I hadn't seen before. It was...new." Sweat drips down my temples, dampening my hair. My hands strain to anchor me. The memory strikes me so violently I curl into myself, like live wire touched.

"You altered the course of the future," my mom says in awe. "Your vision was instantaneous. That is...magnificent."

I'm panting from the effort to focus. The other memories swirl in my periphery, waiting impatiently. There is a glimpse of gold—the compass—and the sensation of having something torn from my neck. I can picture perfectly how Damon must've pulled the vervain necklace from Elena, how it must've hurt her throat.

"I had—I knew this was going to happen and I didn't stop it," I say in dawning disbelief. "I knew the whole time. I could've kept Elena safe."

"Your abilities are not what they could be," my mom soothes. "You were kept from your true self for so long. Your magic is a shadow of what it could be. What it will be when you come to terms with who you are."

"I knew the attack was coming," I mutter to myself. "But the compass was so sudden. I don't know what triggered it. I don't know what triggered anything."

"You have already altered the present and future. These are visions, hija. Estás viendo el nuevo futuro que creaste."

I sit up abruptly. The inky darkness swirls around me. My fingers are coated in something wet and I distractedly wipe it against my leggings. For a moment, I hear absolutely nothing. I blink repeatedly, dazed, and stumble to my feet. There are no more tears in my eyes. When I rub a hand down my face I feel dirt smear against my skin.

"Acceptance..." I whisper, testing out the word. The concept. Can I really let go of the past? Will the past ever let go of me? I stagger forward, clenching my hands into fists just for the sensation of it. "I have to accept who I am."

"Once you do so, everything will fall into place."

"I just—what does it all mean?"

Elena's attack already happened, but what was the point of the compass? I already knew it existed, but why did I see it? Should I be focusing on finding it? Immediately? And should I tell Stefan to not tell Elena about being a vampire? Was her reaction negative or normal? Would she out him to her family?

"That is for you to decide. Do not let us interfere with your decisions. But you are not alone. You can always ask for guidance if you need it."

I'm moving. The tightness to my muscles and the quick movements are all mine. I am no longer being aided by the witches. They follow me. I can feel them protecting me from behind.

"You will find your way, hija. You always have."

I break out from the trees, feet sliding against smooth asphalt. I nearly fall from the startling change. The road is hardly visible in the faint moonlight.

"We believe in you. We all do."

The front door swings open, and I'm immediately blinded by the sun. As I'm locking the door I pause, noticing the fresh cuts along my palm and knuckles. I can still smell the woods on my skin.

Glancing around, I see nothing out of the ordinary but feel a deep sense of displacement. I stand there, confused. My clothes are changed, different. My hair is down and recently washed. I'm holding a water bottle in my hand, the nail of my ring finger broken and red and slightly swollen.

Awkwardly, I move off the porch and onto the sidewalk. There is some soreness in my calves and thighs, and my eyes feel incredibly dry. Sunglasses rest atop my head; I place them on my face. It's early in the morning and instinctively, I know I'm heading to Sheila's. Instinctively, I know not to question anything and just carry on. And so I do just that.

—

—

Tuesday morning. The sun hadn't risen yet. It was cold, dark. Quiet and still. I had woken up a few seconds ago to the sight of Damon's face, half-hidden and faraway. Hiding. Lurking.

He was here.

I knew this was coming. Bree had mentioned Damon showing up to her bar not long after Lexi gave her a heads up. I'd been waiting for him as much as he was waiting now. Was he here for me, or for Bonnie?

I messaged everyone, knowing it would be a few hours before they saw it. In the meantime, I was trapped in the confines of my room. I picked up the notebook I'd been furiously scribbling in these past few days. Mostly, it was filled with the plan to isolate Damon and talk him down. I sat on the floor, a blanket strewn around my shoulders. The notebook opened automatically to where I needed it to, the binding so worn already it was sometimes difficult to close.

Spells were written down in heavy black ink; I'd already memorized the words. Although it wasn't me who'd be performing the spell directly, Bonnie and Sheila needed (or rather, I felt like they needed) my magic to help. I couldn't take the risk with Sheila. If it was possible to shoulder the burden, then I gladly would. She wouldn't be dying anytime soon.

I glanced at my window, at the tightly shut curtains and the double lock on the window. The thought of Damon outside made my blood boil as much as it made anticipation curl low in my gut. What are you planning?

Rudy would be up soon, his two week vacation over. He wouldn't be around much after today. I felt uneasy having him leave before me. Damon might set his sights on him if he didn't know about me yet.

Can he hear me? Can he hear that there are three heartbeats inside?

I began to get dressed, anxious for something to do. I decided on something comfortable and easy to move in, not wanting that added feeling of restriction that came with tight jeans. Looking in my mirror, I was covered up well: gloves, scarf, beanie, and sunglasses, perched atop my head.

Lexi was the first to answer. Then Stefan. Sheila. And finally Bonnie. I could hear Rudy shuffling throughout the house.

I packed my bag, staring at the vial full of vervain tucked carefully in a side pocket for easy access. My necklace warmed the skin of my sternum, a small comfort. You can do this. You're not alone. Think of your mom.

Once I got the okay, and once I watched Rudy reverse out of the driveway, I grabbed everything I needed and left the house. The air cut through my jacket and thin long sleeve easily upon stepping outside, skin prickling as goosebumps spread everywhere like wildfire. The glasses added a grey tint to my surroundings, making everything appear darker, more sinister. I questioned wearing them, then figured if I was too self-conscious about my appearance then Damon would become suspicious. I left them on.

Turning my back to the person who was responsible for killing me was extremely difficult. I knew he had to be somewhere out there, prowling. My instincts screamed at me to go back inside to the safety of my home. To where he could not get me. I steeled myself and slid the key in. The click of the lock was thunderous, nearly deafening. The motion of pulling the key out caused a wave of relief to wash over me. I slipped inside Bonnie's car and drove.

The woods were beginning to glisten with barely peeking sun rays. The ground, coated in light brown leaves, was damp from the cold night and soft beneath my shoes.

There was a specific area we'd agreed upon. A small clearing with lots of foliage and cover surrounding it. I had done my best to buy time for everyone else to get set up once I left the house without seeming as if I was purposely stalling. I had stopped by a cafe to get tea and knew the moment I stepped out that Damon was still there. Watching. Following. And I felt the same feeling now, as I was walking through the woods down a beaten trail. He was nearby.

Part of me expected him to attack now. I was alone. I was headed somewhere and could easily be plucked from the main path and taken deeper into the woods. No one would know. Not even my friends who were hiding by the clearing. It would be so easy, so quick and simple.

Yet, despite how vulnerable I was, I made it safely to the clearing. It was wide and covered in grass and dying flowers. I did my best to make myself comfortable toward the middle, and then began my ruse.

Grimoire in hand, I muttered Latin phrases and parts of spells under my breath. The spells were incorrect, said out of order, so they did not work. But to someone who was not familiar with Latin or spells in general, this wouldn't be noticeable. As long as I let the words glide smoothly from my tongue, Damon should be none the wiser.

Nearly an hour passed by and there was nothing. I could sense (acutely) Damon stalking the perimeter, a predator sizing up its prey. But he didn't attack.

Growing impatient, I decided to put on a more interesting show. Removing my gloves, I set them atop the grimoire and laid down. With a dramatic sigh, I dug both hands into the dirt beside me. It gave way under my fingers with little resistance. I started chanting, louder than before. My voice echoed and faded away around me, pulsing like the beat of a heart. I was on the verge of screaming, my voice cracking violently. Nothing happened, of course. The spells were all duds. Acting, although not my strongest suit, came easily. It wasn't difficult to become emotional, to pretend that not being able to perform a spell was life-shattering. I was sobbing so hard I couldn't catch my breath. I curled onto my side, pretending to give up. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and, in the blink of an eye, Damon was in my line of vision.

I froze, taking a few seconds to register the sight of him. I had to be sure it was really him, in the flesh. I had to be sure I hadn't imagined him. He tilted his head slowly, peering down at me. I half-expected his usual expression of smug confidence or his trademark smirk, but neither made an appearance.

We stared at each other, both unmoving. His eyes were sharp and narrowed. There was something there, something floating within that I couldn't name. My skin prickled harshly, thousands of imaginary needles jabbing into my skin.

Part of me expected Damon to look different. It felt like ages since I'd last seen him in person. So much had happened, yet he looked exactly the same. Dressed in all black, his hair swooping down across his forehead, that unsettling glint to his eyes. He stood a few feet away and didn't say a word.

This moment had been rehearsed loosely. The most important and difficult part had already been achieved. All we really needed was for Damon to follow me here to the clearing without attacking beforehand. There was no way he could escape now. He was surrounded.

Of course, we still had to convince him. But we were all out of the woods in terms of certain and immediate death. So, I decided to improvise.

"Took you long enough," I said, dusting my hands off. I couldn't feign nonchalance, so I settled for expectant. "It's been over an hour. My back hurts."

My voice seemed to stir something in Damon, and that something wasn't kind. He stepped forward menacingly, lip beginning to curl. Despite how quiet his movements were, the air thickened with tension. "Getting rid of you once should've been enough."

"It should've," I agreed, sliding the grimoire back in my bag. The vial, smooth and cool, made my fingers tingle as they brushed against the glass. "But it wasn't."

"Vampire blood," Damon hissed, his irritation growing rapidly. The wheels were turning in his head, and those wheels were now catching fire. "My little brother let you have a taste, didn't he?"

I smiled, but it didn't reach my eyes. "Why don't you come over here and figure that out yourself?"

Everyone knew Damon was impulsive. He rode his emotions out like he didn't have a cautious bone in his body. When his teeth tore my throat to shreds, I felt the countless other people he had done the exact same thing to over the decades. Those people were unsuspecting, drawn in by a predator with an attractive shell. That shell did wonders to mask the short temper and thirst for violence. He was a predator through and through, always hungry and always hunting for more.

It was a testament to his allure that even me, someone who knew about his true nature, let my guard down enough to be attacked. And killed. Maybe you're just a gullible idiot.

Damon stayed put, feet glued to the grassy ground beneath him. His teeth were bared, faint veins crawling beneath his eyes. He had no aces up his sleeve last time, but he had the element of surprise and anger on his side. Now, here I sat in a deliberately vulnerable position with no visible weapons and no company, using a question to mask a threat. Here I sat, very much alive and very much unphased. Lexi was right. Damon couldn't afford impulsivity in this situation.

I didn't doubt that if he could kill me a second time he would. And he'd make sure I stayed dead this time. If I were him, I'd use fire.

"What are you afraid of?" I asked. There was something awful bubbling in the pit of my stomach, the desire for revenge sharpening the edge of my voice. "You killed me once already. Let's see what happens when you try again."

Elbow on my knee, I rested my scarf covered chin on my open palm and waited. A gentle breeze made the tree leaves rustle and grass sway. There was nothing more I wanted in this moment than to savor Damon's expression—wide eyes, parted lips, and pinched brows. It almost made him tearing half of my throat out worth it. Almost.

"I'll kill you once you tell me how it is that you're alive."

I pursed my lips in mock thought. "If that's the case, then tell me your theories. Besides the vampire blood, of course."

"Resurrection," he replied, without missing a beat. "I'm sure witches have a spell for that somewhere."

He stepped closer, triggering my necklace to heat up. Power hit my veins like a drug, draping itself like silk around my bones and muscles and skin. I blinked, pupils dilating and constricting. I let out a quiet, shaky breath, stomach tightening in anticipation. The magic had been directed toward Sheila and Bonnie, but now that a threat had been presented, it directed itself back to me.

"What did you have to give up in order to be brought back, hmm? Some humanity, maybe a few pesky emotions or memories?" Damon ran his eyes over me, alight with mischief. He's trying to gain the upper hand in the situation. How cute. "How much of a monster are you now?"

I barked a laugh, grin unkind. "I still got a long way to go before I'm anywhere close to you."

Damon advanced another step. "I somehow doubt that."

"Doubt away, then," I said dismissively, fingertips tingling and mind racing. "Any other theories?"

Another step. I had to crane my neck to look at him, but felt safe in knowing that the second (the instant) Damon touched me, he'd be on his ass having his brain fried. I'll enjoy that, honestly.

"My last theory is that you're stalling. You're waiting for backup to come and save you."

Damon crouched in front of me. We were eye to eye, close enough to breathe the same air. The necklace made me tense up, but I kept my gaze steady. "You're mistaken if you think my 'backup' hasn't been here the whole time."

"There's no one else here but us."

I smiled again, but said nothing. Damon's stare didn't falter, didn't lessen in intensity. He was still burning a hole straight through my head, unnerving and stubborn even when the roles were reversed (or were supposed to be, at least).

His eyes, although the wrong shape and color, reminded me of Tyler's. The expression on his face was one Tyler was familiar with, the anger Damon must feel racing through him the same Tyler must've felt. Must feel. Still feels.

The atmosphere, brewing with violent intent, caused me to pull away. Phantom pains made my palms, fists, ribs, and jaw throb. The smell of dirt invaded my nose, soon clashing with fresh blood. Despite knowing they were only memories, I flinched when Tyler's face flitted across Damon's, the two blurring together briefly (a nightmare, surely).

This time, there was the opportunity to stop the situation from escalating. As appealing as revenge sounded, not only for me but for my family. For Bonnie, who couldn't help at all. For Caroline, who was too late. For Stefan, who carried my dead body and accepted his fate down in the cellar. For Sheila, who apologized to her daughter for not being able to protect me, who wiped the blood from my face, who prayed over my body. As appealing as making Damon suffer a little sounded, I couldn't let the impulse override and potentially ruin our plan.

I waited too late with Tyler, had my epiphany mid-fight and paid for it with a beating that left a scar on my cheek and upper lip. Left permanent aches along my ribs and knees, something that I couldn't shake regardless of the amount of painkillers I took. You promised you wouldn't let Sara overwhelm you, Sam.

Only persuasion and proof could convince Damon to find Enzo with me. Only submission, the illusion of control, could cause him to lower his guard enough to listen.

I inhaled deeply, slowly, and let my shoulders sag, making myself smaller. "Damon," I started, the seriousness of the situation seeping into my tone. His face was inscrutable, unreadable. He was thinking, that much I could tell. "I know you've thought about what I said that night. Even if you don't believe it's true."

He didn't reply, lips pressed into a tight line. I knew I had to choose my words carefully. Even if I decided not to get revenge, that didn't mean Damon still couldn't attempt to kill me again. Come on, you got this. You've always had it. Acceptance, remember? And confidence.

"Katherine isn't in the tomb. I know that's the worst of what I told you before. She isn't there and the implications of that, if true, means that she left you behind and didn't bother to tell you. She didn't care. And if that's a lot to unpack, then pretend it doesn't exist for now. Think what you want about it. What I want to talk about is Enzo."

"There's nothing to talk about," Damon growled, moving to stand. He put distance between the two of us, assuming the dominant position again. "He's dead. I watched him die."

"You didn't, though. If you had stayed to watch him die, you would be dead too." I decided against standing, instead adjusting my sitting position to that I was cross legged with my knees up and near my chest. Loosely, I wrapped my arms around my legs, feeling a bit safer and less exposed than I did before. "You turned your humanity off and walked away. He screamed your name and begged you to save him, remember? But you didn't actually see him die."

"There was a fire. His chances of survival were nonexistent. I was—" He broke eye contact, but quickly turned back to face me. His eyes, now a dark, almost blue black color, looked me over again. Unlike before, this reminded me of Stefan. Of how he stared at me that night, after Elena was attacked. Like I was food, plated and hot and ready to be eaten, and he was a starving, feral animal. "He is not alive."

"After you left," I said softly, "the fire was put out. He didn't die."

"Then where is he?" Damon snapped, teeth bared and sharp. His face seemed to crack open, veins sprawling erratically and eyes flushing red. The necklace was close to burning a hole through my sternum, but I held it back, pushed the magic into a crevice and kept it there, muscles straining. "If he's alive, then why haven't I seen him?"

"Damon," I whispered, unable to keep fear from making its way into my voice. The woods were eerily silent as if anticipating my next words. "He's still there. He's still being tortured. He never left."

I barely had any time to react before, all around us, a massive amount of energy shifted, exposing itself. There was a flash of blonde and Damon wasn't grasping at the front of my jacket anymore, fingers leaving harsh wrinkles that didn't smooth away with a quick swipe of my hand. I staggered back onto my elbows, half-crawling and half trying to stand. The sky, grey fading into shades of blue, looked down upon the clearing peacefully. Bonnie, whose energy was the most familiar out of the group and the one I instinctively reached towards, helped me up.

"Shit," I said to no one in particular, startled by the humming of magic like liquid lightning beneath my skin. The necklace was cool against my sternum. "Whoops."

Damon was now a few feet across from me, writhing on the ground and spitting out curses. Lexi, for good measure, held him down by the back of his neck. Stefan stood beside her, impassive.

You can protect yourself even without the necklace's help. But don't let your guard down regardless.

"Damon," I neared him, Sheila and Bonnie flanking my sides, "I'll stop the spell if you promise to listen to me. I don't want to hurt you."

"Fuck you," he snarled, but the words lacked real anger.

He was breathless, face a blotchy red and veins bulging so much I thought they'd burst any second. I stopped the aneurysm despite his lack of verbal agreement, understanding he probably couldn't think because of the pain (and that I'd do it again if necessary, anyway). Damon collapsed onto his back, exhausted, and I was momentarily fascinated by the rush of blood down from his face to his jaw and neck. His skin smoothed out to its usual color, veins slinking back with it, disappearing in almost an instant.

"You want proof?" I offered, nodding at Lexi's unspoken question. She removed her foot from Damon's chest, allowing him to stand without interference. "I know where Enzo is. I know how to get to him. I can take you...we can break him out. How does that sound?"

"That's not real proof, so excuse me for not jumping for joy, witch." Damon dusted off his shirt, clearly annoyed. He eyed all five of us, lingering on Lexi the longest, his expression dark. For a moment, his expression twisted into something bordering on confused and afraid, before merging into suspicious. He gave Lexi another once over, searching for something. Stefan leaned toward her, fists clenching. "I see you got yourself a nice little daylight amulet. Would you like to show the class?"

Lexi's face was perfectly schooled, collected. The sun broke through the clouds briefly and her hair shimmered, a long sheet of gold in the light. I mentally patted Stefan on the back for choosing earrings as Lexi's amulet. They were hidden, protected from any immediate threat. Damon's gaze landed back on me after having gone through everyone else in the group. No one had spoken, no one had responded to his comment. The silence was enough for me to notice tension beginning to pull at his shoulders.

"Enzo is my proof. I can take you to him. You'll be able to see him with your own eyes."

Damon sighed dramatically. "Repeating the same thing over and over isn't going to work, so save it. This whole act of yours is pathetic."

My eyes narrowed, stance shifting into something more threatening. Maybe Damon needed to sense me as a threat in order to take me seriously. He had killed me out of impulsive anger. I was just a witch, after all. Killing me...how bad could that really be, in the grand scheme of things, right? Especially when he still had Sheila and Bonnie, both full blooded Bennett witches and direct descendants of Emily, to do his bidding. He wasn't intimidated by me, and it wasn't my intention to be intimidating. But as much as I was alive, as much as I was given a second chance at life, it didn't take away from the fact that he'd killed me. And he would kill me again, kill my family and those I cared about without hesitation. As much as I loved Damon, a television screen was much different from real life. I wouldn't let him—or anyone else, for that matter—keep abusing my already set affections. I had to treat them as real people whose intentions I needed to be wary of.

"I'm going to make something very, very clear to you," I said slowly, quietly. "Enzo is alive, whether you believe it or not. He will be rescued, whether you participate or not. You're angry, you're upset. That's fine! But I want you to know that we are not your enemy. I don't consider you my enemy. I don't want to hurt or kill you. Literally, all I want is your help in breaking Enzo out."

I stood in front of Damon, sensing everyone closing in as a result. For the first time ever, I felt Sheila's magic ripple through the air. It linked with me, her magic and my magic blurring together. Bonnie followed suit, a sort of triangle forming between us. My necklace connected too, slotting in like the last piece of the puzzle. We are one, I thought. Never alone, always together.

"Tell me, aside from destroying the talisman, what have I done, huh? Tell you a bunch of things you don't like? Well you know what. I'm going to make a promise—no, a deal—with you. We, just you and me, go rescue Enzo. If he isn't there, if it turns out I'm lying, you can kill me! A second time. Hell, I'll do it myself if you want. I give you permission, and everyone else here, they give you permission too. That's how sure I am that I'm not lying. That's how sure I am that Enzo is there, and that you can see him again."

Thankfully, no one reacted to what I said with opposition. Although a partial lie (killing me, again, would be the worst thing Damon could do) that wasn't an issue because I knew Enzo was there. It wouldn't come to that, and I hoped everyone else knew that too.

Damon though, sneered at me. "How about this—you go get him yourself, and bring him to me. I'm not going anywhere with you."

"What am I gonna do, kill you?" I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "If I wanted to kill you or do anything to you, I could do it now. I could've done it before. Like I said before, I literally do not care."

"I have absolutely no reason to trust you. Or any of you, for that matter. And after knowing you can come back from the dead, your deal means nothing to me."

I bit back a curse, bit back a lot of what I wanted to say and instead forced my shoulders to relax. I was upset, clearly. But I reminded myself that I had been in denial for months until just recently. Damon was going through the motions too. Although I didn't want to sympathize with him too much, there was a part of me that understood that pushing someone past their limit when they were not ready was the quickest and easiest way to have things fall apart.

Damon didn't trust me. I couldn't, realistically, expect him to trust me either. My gut told me that Damon had to go with me. My gut and nothing else. All I had was a primal feeling, something instinctual, telling me this. And this feeling was not proof enough, or not reason enough, to try to force something that clearly wasn't going to happen.

Sheila explained that it was a witch's 'intuition' and something which should be followed. Yet, she stressed the importance of not getting caught up in the little details. I didn't know if this was that. At this point, I would need to see the positive outcome of me following my gut in order to believe it's truly my witch's intuition. And at this rate, it would be awhile before I did. Especially since you can't seem to get anything to go your way, huh?

The others knew this may be an outcome. As much as I insisted my head and heart were stable, my interaction with Damon was enough to show that I wasn't fully back. Everything still felt like I had fallen in limbo. Waking up in that room, breathing air into lungs that had been still and empty for an hour—it was hard to convince myself that it was real. That I was real. But, I'd already had my existential crisis. I had to take everything seriously now, no matter how foggy my head seemed. It was real, and it would continue to be real regardless of if I accepted it or not.

So, in the long run, we needed Damon on our side. That was the goal. The next immediate threat were the vampires who were going to be showing up in town soon (if they weren't here already) for the tomb. After that, there was Katherine who would inevitably bring along Klaus and Elijah with her. Everything led up to Klaus, and there were a lot of things which needed to be prevented, avoided, and altogether changed. If I needed to take Stefan and Lexi and Bonnie with me to go get Enzo, then so be it. The end result just had to be the same.

"Okay, alright, you know what." I retreated, holding my hands up in surrender. My posture caused a ripple effect among the others. They didn't mimic me, but my tone of voice had them paying more attention to me rather than Damon. "Fine. I'll go get him myself. And I'll let you see him once I bring him back. In the meantime, you cannot and will not do anything to harm anyone in this town. You will stay put and wait until he's here. Do you understand?"

Damon bared his teeth again, like a caged animal being taunted. He didn't move toward anyone, but I could see the desire to do so in his eyes. "Well if you're going to be so kind, then," he said sarcastically. "How long will I have to wait?"

"Not long. I'd give it a few days. Some adjustments need to be made to the plan."

"Aww, is it because I won't be your partner in crime?" Damon taunted. He pouted dramatically and cocked his head to the side. "Did you really expect me to agree to go with you?"

A small, half-smile tugged at my lips; I directed it toward the ground. "Do you remember Anna?" I asked, almost offhandedly. "She'll be showing up here soon because her mom's trapped in the tomb. She knows that Katherine isn't actually down there." I slung my bag over my shoulder as I spoke, Damon watching me with a glint in his eye. "She was planning on having you do all the heavy lifting of getting the tomb open so she could just get her mom out. If you happen to see her, well. You know."

"You're leaving," Damon deadpanned. He only managed to take one step forward before Stefan and Lexi both flanked him, a wordless threat. "That's it?"

"What, did you want to plan a sleepover or something?" I smiled without any real emotion behind it, enjoying the rush locking eyes with Damon gave me. For once, for once, despite the outcome of the situation, I felt like we had the upper hand. And I wasn't going to waste it. "I'm sure you'll be stalking everyone, so when we get back from getting Enzo, we'll be at the boarding house. Goodbye, Damon."

—

—

The sun was overwhelmingly bright for it almost being autumn, and I'd placed my sunglasses on my face the second I stepped outside of school. I'd lost Stefan halfway down the hall to Matt, their expressions screaming Elena's name loud enough for me to pretend I didn't notice them. Caroline and Bonnie had cheer practice, but both had promised to not attend and meet out front.

Today had been my first day back to school since the fight with Tyler. It felt strange to walk down the halls and sit in different classrooms for hours on end. It felt pointless compared to what everyone was dealing with. What helped me get through the day was pretending I was the only one in the school. I avoided all eye contact and pretended no one else existed. I wasn't sure what other people were doing, but regardless I still felt outcast. Somehow, more than before. As much as this bothered me, it was to be expected.

A small shiver ran up my spine; I'd been feeling that uneasy crawling sensation that comes with being watched ever since leaving Damon in the clearing yesterday. Part of it felt like a dream. Maybe I just wanted it to be one.

"Hey," Stefan greeted, Matt's head popping up over his shoulder. "Sorry for making you wait."

"It's been like five minutes, chill," I laughed, returning the hug Matt gave me with a firm squeeze. "Are you two done being angsty?"

Matt's expression fell, and I immediately regretted mentioning anything. It's none of your business. He deserves privacy.

"Sorry," I said quickly, bowing my head. "Forget I asked. Are you headed to practice?"

Matt smiled softly, his hand reaching up to pat my arm. I leaned into the touch, appreciating how gentle it was. "Yes. I should've been there," he checked his wrist which had no watch, "like ten minutes ago. I should start heading over."

I snorted. "Good luck with Coach Tanner."

"You know the drill," he answered nonchalantly. His expression suddenly became serious, eyes searching for something in mine. "Call me if you need anything."

"I know." I returned his easy smile, letting myself relax. "Same goes for you."

Matt nodded to Stefan and left, taking the small sense of peace I had with him. I watched him leave, smile slipping from my face.

PAIN. FEAR. HELPLESSNESS.

I blinked rapidly, shaking my head to ground myself. Matt rounded the corner, back a stiff line.

"We should tell him," I blurted out. The words startled me so much I covered my mouth with both hands. Stefan had his eyebrows raised, surprise evident on his face. "I don't...sorry. That's a topic for another time."

I shuffled over to a shady spot, both figuratively and literally running away from Stefan's possible response, as well as what I had felt. I plopped down on the ground, backpack keeping the brick wall from digging into my spine. Stefan followed, but didn't sit down.

"How was your day?" he asked.

I pretended to push my sunglasses higher up my nose to hide my answering grimace. "Long and draining. I just. Want to get everything sorted for tomorrow so I can just sleep for ten hours."

"Lexi should be here soon. And the girls as well."

I kicked a rock near my foot toward the lawn. The sound of it scraping along pavement echoed loudly. It disappeared within the grass, but the echoing continued. I shifted uncomfortably, recognizing that I was beginning to dissociate but being unable to do anything to stop it. For the tenth time today, I saw the Gilbert compass. Smooth gold, milky white, slim arrows. My head swooped forward, thudding against my knee. I curled into half a ball, slumping into a position that would only cause me back pains later.

All I'd been seeing since our encounter with Damon was the compass. I dreamt about it, saw it in the corner of my eye, couldn't get it out of my head. This gut feeling told me we needed to get our hands on it as soon as possible. Something big was going to happen soon, yet I still didn't know what. Funny how my visions seem to be selective.

Impatience bubbled high in my chest. We were supposed to discuss our plan regarding the Gilbert compass and how to find it today. We could've had this wrapped up yesterday, but since I couldn't stop thinking about Damon and trying to provoke a vision, I ended up getting a migraine and passing out from exhaustion.

I raised my head lazily, eyes unfocused. The blur next to me moved closer.

"He's watching us, you know," I muttered, head rolling back. Stefan managed to put his hand between my head and the wall before I smacked right into it. I waved him off, but smiled so it wouldn't come off as dismissive. "Not that we didn't know this would happen. I did tell him he would."

"Another vision?" he asked, lowering himself fully to sit beside me.

"Just the same thing as before."

I noticed, while rubbing my temples, that one of my pant legs had unfolded at some point. I debated for a second whether I should fix it or not.

"Have you seen anything new?"

"About him?"

"About anything in general," Stefan clarified.

Rudy had left a bag outside my door filled to the brim with rainbow socks this morning. I'd worn a pair today, folding up the bottoms of my jeans to show them off. I smiled to myself as I folded the hem up again, revealing the bright, happy colors. It soothed some part of me that I didn't realize needed soothing.

"I caught a glimpse of something yesterday, before I went to bed. I'm...not too sure what it's about, but there was a room decorated with a bunch of things. Shiny, important looking. It was kinda familiar. Like I've seen it before." I fidgeted, trying my hardest to recall the vision but failing to remember more than that. "Not sure what it has to do with anything, but having it nearly split my head open."

"Was it just the room you saw?"

My stomach clenched. "Someone was inside. But they were just a black blur. The vision was only a second long. Like a still frame." I turned to face Stefan. "Do you think it's important?"

"All your visions are of importance."

I snorted, amused, but nodded in agreement. "I'm just not sure what to make of it."

A few more minutes passed before Caroline and Bonnie exited the front of the school. Lexi had been parked out front and Stefan left to join her. The car ride passed by quickly, and before I knew it there was a cup of tea in front of me and I had my forehead against the smooth granite countertop of the Salvatore kitchen.

"Are you sure you don't want any painkillers?" Bonnie asked, settling herself beside me. She rested a hand on my back. "I can grab you a blanket."

"I'm fine," I murmured, rubbing an eye with the back of my hand. "I've had way too many painkillers these past few weeks, anyway."

The headache had eased into a slow ache, more of a nuisance than a real pain. The day had just dragged on for so long that I wanted a small break. The cool countertop soothed some of the heat budding along my temples and made me sleepy.

Lexi shuffled around in the kitchen, preparing drinks and setting them down. A bottle of amber colored alcohol, two glasses of water, and a cup of ice were set around us. Lexi placed a mug of something I couldn't see in the microwave.

Caroline returned from the bathroom, her clothes changed into something looser and more comfortable. She claimed a glass of water and took a sip.

Lexi leaned on the countertop, and the three of us swayed forward automatically in response. "Did Stefan tell you he's Elena's date for tomorrow?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes and made a face. "So much for all of us participating in finding the compass."

"He'd be too risky anyway." I blew at my tea to cool it down, watching the small waves it created bump against the edges, nearly spilling. "The council knows he's the one in charge of the vervain and all that. They might keep an eye on him since he's a familiar face."

"Okay so," Caroline glanced at the three of us, "who's going with who?"

I'd given this a lot of thought. Though pairings didn't matter too much, we could mix, break up and even go solo if we wanted—but just in case we needed to, for appearances sake, show up with certain people.

"You two," I pointed to Caroline and Bonnie, "will go together. Lexi and I will be with Sheila. Since Lexi's pretending to be Stefan's cousin or whatever and most people know I'm friends with him, it would make sense that I invited her."

Bonnie ran a finger down her glass, wiping it clean of condensation. She rubbed the excess against her thumb almost absentmindedly. "And Grams?"

"To keep it from looking like Lexi's my date." I dug a nail into my wrist below the table, anxiety spiking high at my own words. Bonnie and Caroline nodded in understanding but Lexi raised her brow at me. "It's a long story," I added lamely, curling a hand around the mug. "I'll tell you another time."

Lexi smiled at me, breaking eye contact when footsteps, light and soft, announced Stefan's arrival. He neared her and she handed him the mug straight from the microwave, 15 seconds still left on the timer. "Sorry for making you all wait."

"You didn't miss much," Lexi reassured. "Just how we're going to be paired."

He sat on a stool. Lexi stood beside him and popped a cube of ice in her mouth. She caught me staring and nudged the glass toward me. I reached in and did the same.

"I feel like we need a distraction," Caroline said, crossing her arms over her chest. "To take the spotlight away and make it easier for us to look around."

"Like what?" Bonnie asked.

"Like, maybe Stefan and Elena?" she suggested, partially uncertain. "I don't know what they'll do, but it would be easier for us to look around for the compass upstairs if the people there are focused on something else."

I hummed thoughtfully. "Not sure what Stefan and Elena can do to make sure all eyes are on them without Elena being in on it."

"Other than upstairs, where else are we supposed to look?"

I turned to face Bonnie, lowering the mug from my lips. "Most of the downstairs area. Any room with the antiques or whatever in them could have the compass. Originally, Elena didn't give it to Mrs. Lockwood because Jeremy was really attached to it. She didn't know what it really was. But since Miranda is alive, she most likely handed it over." But would they have it on display? It seems unlikely, but it wouldn't hurt to look. "If it's not downstairs or upstairs, then it will most likely be in Mr. Lockwood's office—at least, I'm pretty sure it's his office. Stefan, do you still have that interior map of the mansion? The one Zach got for us?"

His chair scraped as he stood. "I'll go get it."

"In there, on the floor, is a safe," I continued. "It looks like a floorboard. If either Bonnie, Sheila or I are there, then we can unlock it. Inside is a bunch of stuff, but all that matters is the compass. I'll do my best to draw it for you guys so you have a better idea of what it looks like.

"And finally, if it's not in any of these places, that means someone is carrying it on them. But it will be at the Lockwood Mansion. I just know it. It's in there, we just need to get it. And if we play this smart, we can even use Lexi and her amazing pickpocketing skills to steal the compass from whoever may have it."

Stefan, in a blur, reappeared in the kitchen. Everyone but Lexi startled. Caroline nearly knocked her glass of water over. Stefan looked embarrassed, cheeks flushing slightly in the fading daylight.

"I'll take up any excuse to pickpocket someone." Lexi winked, sharing a wide grin with Stefan. "It's one of my favorite pastimes."

"We just have to make sure we have something to go on before sending Lexi in to randomly feel people up," I teased. "Can't have you getting arrested on us, yanno. I don't think any of us could afford bail."

Lexi leaned forward, golden hair spilling over her shoulders. She gave a wicked smirk and lowered her voice. "I'm so good no one would even notice I was there."

"She doesn't need compulsion to be sneaky," Stefan added, placing the map in front of us. "It's just quicker. And more convenient."

"Speaking of compulsion," I remembered. "Stefan and I figure the vervain the council took is gonna be used for the party. Like for the food and drinks. So you two," I eyed Lexi and Stefan, "gotta be careful. Your tolerance is great and all, but it still makes you weaker and we all need to be sharp."

"We'll pretend we're both vegan?" Lexi offered, wiggling her brows at Stefan. He rolled his eyes in response. "And totally hate alcohol. Even though you're underaged," she smacked Stefan's arm, "and can't be drinking in general."

"How about we pretend we don't eat food at all?"

Lexi snorted, stealing his mug. Looking at the three of us, she said, "Don't mind him, he likes to pretend he's funny."

"He's not fooling us," Bonnie quipped, hiding her grin behind her glass. "Now, where is the office you mentioned?"

Scooting forward, I leaned over the map. Memories of discussions had in the Salvatore living room with Zach, Stefan and I drifted in my peripheral, but the strongest of all was my first visit to the Lockwood Mansion. The first time I visited, this was my guide. Just thinking of that night made my palms clammy.

"Here." I tapped the map a few times to where the room with the safe was. "This one is risky because you'll have to get through the first lock, then the safe lock, and then leave the room all without being noticed."

Caroline shifted closer to us, expression nervous. Her blue eyes looked shinier than usual, brows creased in concern. "Without a distraction, we won't get past that door."

Caroline was right. She was absolutely right. Yet a distraction could be as helpful as it could be harmful. There was always a risk of it backfiring. My hand shook on the map, mind coming up with multiple possibilities. After your fight with Tyler, especially with the scars on your face, people will want to see you.

Some body parts were still bruised. Despite wearing the necklace, these wounds healed slowly. I wondered if it was due to them not being life-threatening or debilitating in any way. Regardless, I thanked the fact that I still had many of them.

"I can…" I trailed off, staring at my pink and sensitive knuckles. Below my long sleeve were an array of bruises, scrapes and scabs. I swallowed thickly, memory of my naked body in the bathroom mirror making me nauseous. "I can be the distraction. But that would mean I couldn't help you all look. And you'd be down a witch."

The entire house had to be searched, and there were only four of us, minus myself. Two witches, one vampire, and a human. We could coordinate so that wherever I went, they would head to the thinnest part of the crowd and get to looking. Maybe I could use my magic to stir things up without exposing the group? Another risk. I still wasn't sure if the council knew about witches, or if they knew about Bonnie, Sheila, or myself. Don't tempt fate.

"What would you do?" Caroline asked quietly.

"I can...I can wear a dress. A revealing one. My back is still pretty messed up from the fight. I took Tyler's weight on the pavement and my spine is terrible to look at. I can...flaunt myself. Talk to everyone that's there. Be loud, obnoxious. Or I don't know, flirt with Mrs. Lockwood."

Bonnie spat her water all over the countertop, coughing furiously. Caroline patted her back, but could hardly contain her own laughter.

"Ooh, that's hardcore," Lexi complimented, raising her drink at me. "Everyone will be so focused on you that I'm sure we can clean the place out in less than an hour."

"Are you sure you're comfortable with that, though?" Bonnie asked when she had stopped her coughing fit. "Most of the attention won't be good."

I grimaced. "It's never been good, but that's what we need."

Briefly, so briefly I could convince myself it never happened at all, I considered having Lexi be my date. But the thought was crushed immediately, Sophie's tortured face all I could see. My stomach rolled, acid making its way up my esophagus and to the back of my throat. I stiffened, tears forming in my eyes.

She's suffering because of you. She's been suffering for nearly a year. They're trying to convert her, have been trying for this long. Her heart would break if she heard of this. Sam Bennett showing up to party with a woman by her side. A different woman. Older, beautiful in a way that humans couldn't be (beautiful in order to draw in prey).

I swore to Sophie one afternoon, ace bandages tight across my chest and suffocating, that I would never again wear a dress. Sophie had kissed the last remaining breath out of my lungs, her hands running down my flattened chest (but not completely flat—the bandages were uneven, put on in a rush). She told me I'd look handsome in a suit.

She'd hear about it. Someone would tell her, show her a picture maybe. Her family believes me to be a vice, holding Sophie in a death grip and refusing to let her go. They will do anything to break her. To make her someone she's not. I'm her weakness, and she's mine.

"Sam?"

I blinked. All at once, everything came into focus. The mug of tea in my hands had spilled onto my fingers, a few stray droplets trailing down my wrists and soaking into my sleeves. I set it down mechanically. "Yeah?"

"You okay?"

Caroline dabbed a napkin on my wrists, fretting over me like a mother would a child. Her touch burned, reminded me of broken fantasies of her in place of Sophie. Caroline leaned onto my shoulder, the smell of her flowery perfume heady. She smells like betrayal.

"Just another mini vision," I lied easily, instinctively. "Sorry about that."

Bonnie patted my back sympathetically. I took a shaky sip of tea.

"Are we good?" I said, thinking over everything to see if I had forgotten anything. "Other than me drawing the compass?"

Caroline's eyes suddenly lit up, her entire face becoming animated. The transformation had me transfixed, sharp pain behind my ribs stealing my breath. "Oh my god! We need to buy a dress! For you! This is exciting," she gushed, nearly tipping her chair over as she stood quickly. "Come on, we gotta go shopping!"

"Uh—" She pulled me to my feet, her entire body vibrating with excitement. I stumbled after her, unable to resist being pulled into her orbit. "We aren't done, though," I weakly protested.

Lexi lifted her drink to us in salute. "Just come back when you're done. We aren't going anywhere."

Bonnie grabbed her backpack and fast walked toward us. I expected her to intervene, but instead she said, "I'll make sure Caroline doesn't take twenty hours picking something."

Accepting defeat, I waved bye to Stefan and Lexi uncertainly, suddenly regretting offering myself up for the slaughter. But Caroline held me close as we left and looked so happy that I couldn't say anything. I just hoped this wouldn't take long.

But really, I just hope that this plan works. Dear god, I really hope it works.

...

end author's note: hey everyone! it's been half a year again. I really hope that soon I'm able to pick up my pace when it comes to writing. for chapter 21, I'm already 2k words in, and it's going to be a long one. and hopefully, much better than this chapter! which was extremely challenging to write, for reasons I'm not sure of. I didn't want to keep putting it off, so although I do think this chapter could've been better, y'all didn't deserve to wait even longer. and I'll do my best to make it up next chapter! let me know your thoughts on what's going on so far, on what you think is going to happen in the future, and all that jazz. next chapter will be s1 ep4 of TVD (only took us 21 chapters to get there oof) just so you have some idea of what'll be in store. and, if you're a fan of Haikyuu!, hi! take a look at my tumblr blog (what is this, 2014?) and if you like what I post/post similar things, follow me! I'm in need of new people to follow! and I use no other social media other than tumblr bc I'm lame and don't like how other apps work lol. anyway, if you're going to college or school in general, I hope the beginning of the Fall semester has been kind to you. it's gonna be an interesting one. stay safe and take care, everyone! until next time.

[translations]

"Estás viendo el nuevo futuro que creaste." ~ "You're seeing the new future you created."