Chapter Twenty-Eight: And Yet, You Interact
A/N: Heyo, trying to rewrite chapter 15, though I guess I have to put a hold on that plan. Here's the next chapter, hopefully it's not too confusing.
Enjoy!
Perspective: Elena
-x-x-x-
"Psychotic hallucinations, whether they are visual or vocal, they address you. They accuse you. They seduce you. They humiliate you. They jeer at you. [And yet,] you interact with them."
- Oliver Sacks
"You couldn't just lie, could you?"
You'd have jumped out of your seat if it were possible.
"Though, I guess, that's just typical."
"Katherine?"
She tilts her head, a smile appearing through her sigh, "Hey, 'Lena."
Your head swerves from one side to the other. Is she by herself? How did she get here? What happened at that hotel? What had happened since the hotel? Where was Tobias? But more importantly, is she okay?
"Slow down," she says, chuckling. "Your head might explode otherwise."
You frown at the way she laughs. For some reason, it's sending a shiver down your back.
"Why are you just standing there?" you question. "Help me."
There's a pause.
With a sigh, she rubs the back of her neck and sits on the seat Tobias had occupied earlier. "What's in it for me?"
"Wh—what?"
You're already frozen by the time she repeats, "What's in it for me?"
It sounds obvious. It's not like she's talking in riddles but, "What are you even saying?"
"Well, I am only asking what you're already thinking."
And that's…?
"I only help you when I need something, right?"
You shake your head, "Even if I thought that, this wouldn't be the time. Fuck, Katherine, help me out of this before Tobias comes back. Before any of them come back!"
She glances behind her shoulder before saying, "I'm going to admit it. Since you can't seem to take the hint. The reason I talked to you in Port Hill was because the map had been stolen. There weren't any other good reasons otherwise."
Not directly relevant but you feel the need to correct her, "That's not true."
"Isn't it?"
Your eyes dart around the room again, looking for anything that would explain her words. "Why are you saying this?"
She steps in your view, "There isn't anyone else here. No one's making me say anything."
"Then why?"
"Why not? It's time the truth came out. My cousin killed your brother. I was there. Framed you with my own blood and then fled."
"That's not what happened. Shut up."
"You should've seen him, Elena. He looked so betrayed."
"Shut up!"
"Kept calling for you. You know, you may not have killed him, but the last thing he saw was your face."
"Shut up!"
Your eyes shut as hot tears roll down your cheeks.
How could Katherine do this?
How could she say these things to you?
With a deep foreboding breath, your eyes open, ready to retaliate but Katherine is gone.
The room is empty.
No.
The doctor.
He's standing five yards away… wait, he's standing right beside your chair.
He checks something in his hands.
What the hell?
You pull at the ties on your wrists. Pull? More like fumble.
When you look up once more, Tobias has his back to you.
He's not the only person in the room but you can't make out the other figures either. His men?
There're voices. Discussion. From a tube… no, from a tube stereo. What? Tobias is talking. Looking at you and then looking at the giant screen with a woman on it.
Amelia.
Probably.
Yes.
They're talking but it sounds like… gibberish.
Tobias touches your shoulder. You want to snap at him but all the warm hand on your shoulder does is make you quiver.
He says something. Shouts it really, and that makes you flinch.
You feel like you blacked out but honestly, you can't tell.
"Pay attention."
"Katherine…" you acknowledge.
"What did they say?"
You don't respond.
You have no idea.
"They aren't… speaking English?" But you only conclude this when Tobias suddenly says something you understand.
"That won't do for me," he shouts along with some other harsher sounds.
You glance at Katherine when she doesn't respond to your revelation.
She's stone-faced with her jaw clenched as she scrutinizes her uncle. Why isn't she fighting him? Or running the other way? (And despite her earlier words, why hasn't she helped you yet?)
"Hey," you call, and she tears her gaze towards you. "Go away."
You don't need her. Not like this. Not if she won't even explain what's going on.
Raising a brow, she doesn't answer you.
The mere action (or is it the lack thereof?) makes you angry. You wouldn't dare deny that even after everything, seeing her had given you a type of relief unrelated to her escaping that freezer. But your reliance only makes you all the more furious. If she's not here to help, she might as well not be here at all.
"Go away," you repeat.
"Why?"
Your frown deepens at the simple question. "Go!"
She observes you for a moment, folding her arms. "Are you seriously mad I never said anything about Jeremy? I mean, look what happened. You found out and what did you do? Run. That's what."
You flinch, feeling like a broken record, "Shut up."
"I would've told you everything you needed to know about that night, but you ran away instead. And you know what? Good for you. You weren't ready for the truth then, but I bet you are now."
She places a hand on your shoulder. (It doesn't feel like anything.) As if to emphasize her next words, and unconsciously, you hold your breath.
"Truth is, I'd deliberately brought Jackson with me that night to have some fun. What you really feared is true. I am guilty of Jeremy's death."
"No."
"And the worst part? If you'd never found those files, I would've never told you."
You just might throw up, and you know it won't be because of the drugs in your system.
"Shut—" up! you intend to say while you shove her hand off your shoulder but your own passes through her arm like nothing.
In a split second, it's like you sobered up.
For a moment, the walls behind Katherine stop spinning as she steps back and laughs.
You look at your hand and then her and then, "You—"
"What?"
"Oh my god. You're not… you're not really here, are you?" Was she ever? The first time you'd seen her, it hadn't made sense that she appeared out of nowhere.
"I wouldn't say nowhere," she rolls her eyes.
"You're not real. What the fuck is going on?"
"Calm down, 'Lena."
"No!"
She tilts her head.
"Go away. Go away."
"Elena."
"Go away!"
The world ripples at your shout and when it settles, Katherine is gone.
Hallucinating. You're hallucinating.
But even then, you can be sure of one thing. The tears rolling down your cheeks? They're just about the realest thing you have in this whole nightmare.
-x-x-x-
The time reads… what does it read, Elena? Because for some reason, you have no clue what that long-hand or short-hand of the clock means anymore.
How long has it been?
Suddenly, the door slams open.
When Jackson comes in, he looks indignant.
"She's dead. How could he?!"
You hear this and you have to flinch away from his booming voice. You don't answer because he seems like he's talking to himself or at least you can pretend he is. Or can you?
This is not a conversation you want to have with him of all people.
Your eyes narrow.
Is he even here? (But then, why would you hallucinate Jackson?)
You startle when he shakes you, but then he's gone back to pacing. Muttering.
"You…" you manage but he ignores you. If this was some kind of drug side effect, it'd definitely involve less pacing and more well... violence. On your part, that is, because if you could hurt him right now, you would. No question about it.
Your fingers curl around the arm rest, only half wondering when you'd gotten to this point because for a second there that picture of a knife to his neck comes back to mind. Just so he can have an idea of what that might've felt like to your brother.
When you look down again, he's kneeling in front of you and undoing your ties.
"What..." are you doing?
"He's not getting away with this," he says, but even as your hands get freed you doubt what he's really doing is to your benefit.
"Jackson."
The man stops, turning to see Markos.
Your blood boils at the sight of the older man. They're all really coming out of the woodwork now, aren't they?
"What are you doing?"
"Markos! You were there!" Jackson stands up so quick you feel like you got whiplash.
That or maybe it just seems that way.
"How could you let them kill her?"
Let him? If only he knew exactly to what extent Markos had let Tobias murder Katherine.
Murder Katherine. That thought makes your heart twist.
Markos proceeds to say something you don't quite catch and soon he's on the ground taking a punch to the face. Jackson stands over him and oddly enough, you two are on the same page.
You're sure there'd been some other kind of exchange but the next time you blink, that doctor is back to shining a light in your eyes.
The doctor.
You try to swat him away, but he just holds your wrist.
He leaves later on after injecting you with another dose of whatever he'd used the first time.
You don't even get to jump up in protest because your eyes shut close instead.
-x-x-x-
You hear your breath as you wake up, heavy and rugged and loud.
Your chest hurts in more ways than one, but then again, it's probably easier to say, what doesn't hurt?
Dammit.
You're still in that room, at the Pierces being held captive by Tobias. It was probably too hopeful to wish that it had all just been some horrible, messed up dream.
You're alone now though. Not even a sign of "Katherine." And you know, you should be looking for a way out. Or at least attempt that phone call to the Mikaelsons. What was the number again?
Kol hadn't provided any but you did have the important ones on that phone he'd given you and you had glanced at them at least once. What was it again? 569? No, it started with 287... maybe. Fuck, this drug is really messing with your head. Maybe... you'll remember once you get to a phone.
In any case, you should really get out of here.
Thanks to Jackson, without any ties holding you down, you manage to fall off the char with a loud thud. Shit.
"What are you trying to do?"
You don't need to look up to know that it's "Katherine."
Your heart sinks.
"Fuck off," you tell her. You don't need this right now, or if ever, really.
When you get no witty response, you see that she's gone, and you sigh off your relief. You lay on the floor for a long moment... or was that short? Rolling your eyes, you scold yourself.
"Come on."
There's no time for this, so you get up and make it to the door once the floor stopped trying to swallow you up.
Pressing on, you mutter, "It's not real." But that mantra doesn't fix your perception and you feel like throwing up when it won't stop spinning.
You stumble through the hall and wonder just how successful this endeavor will be given that you'd done this already and been caught. And that time, you had all your bearings with you.
Now you can barely walk without running into the wall.
"Whoa!"
You hear this as you ram full force into somebody. (Or did they ram into you?)
You both fall and you hear cursing.
"Kol?" you manage but you doubt you actually did any more than a grunt.
He shakes himself and helps you to your feet, glancing behind him in the process. He pulls you into a room.
"What are you... How did you—?"
You don't finish but he understands. "Sophia's playing a game with me."
You blink a little. A game? Up this close, you notice how frazzled he is. Um... frazzled? (Is that even a word, Elena?) No, maybe you'd just imagined the look because it isn't there when you really focus.
"What happened to you?" he asks.
That's a loaded question. Where do you even start? Though to be honest, a giant part of you just wants to cry.
"What did they give you?"
"Didn't say," you shrug—wait no, you didn't actually shrug.
You push away the thought of Katherine (the real Katherine). Kol had been right.
Kol doesn't waste time, checking your arm and leaning in to check your eyes. He looks around again.
"Did you manage to find a landline?"
You shake your head and it seems like you actually convey this because he nods, disappointed. You want to ask if he has a plan or if he's just winging it like you are. Granted, he seems like he infinitely has a better chance at succeeding than you.
You want to ask what kind of game Sophia is playing and if he's okay, but you can barely gather your thoughts through your haze, let alone muster full sentences.
"Alright, you seem way too out of it, so let's—"
Let's…? What does he say? You know he's suggesting your next step, but your eyes are on the door.
Kol straightens as it flies open.
Someone steps in, raising their arm.
Your jaw clenches and your body tenses just as you see Kol do the same. You probably would've felt the electricity more if you weren't so out of it, but you do feel that short-lived jolt before you fall unconscious.
Again.
-x-x-x-
With a jolt, your eyes shoot open.
"Ms. Gilbert. Might I remind you that this will be on the quiz?"
"See, sir?" You hear a voice behind you answer. "You could've easily been talking to me. How would I know you were talking to Elena?"
You wipe sleep from your eyes.
"Because I called Elena. Now settle down, Katherine. And Elena, stop falling asleep in my class and pay attention. You can't afford another failed test. Though I'm sure the last one had been Katherine."
You feel yourself turn red, but your sister has a retort. She always does.
"Sir, if either of us, or any of your students, failed, isn't that more a reflection of you as an educator? I mean, it's kind of your job…"
The loud eruption of "Ooohhhs" and jeers has the History teacher shouting, "Alright, settle down! You. Gilbert, go to the principal's office, right now."
Metal legs scrape on the floor as Katherine stands, collecting her books. "I gather that's a "no" on that retest, huh?"
Sometimes you wonder what compels her to be so bold but you're sure that more than half of the class cheering her on is encouragement enough.
"Since when do you fall asleep in class?" Katherine asks after the final bell has rung and you head to the parking lot.
"Nuh-uh. What happened to letting me fight my own battles when it comes to the ass?" The ass being Mr. Tanner. In just about every class you've had with him, he picks a student for the day and verbally abuses them. Like he gets some kind of high from teenage kids cowering away from a boisterous adult. You know how to deal with people like him but it's like Katherine enjoys bluntly insulting him back. Which is fine. If she didn't always come to your defense that is.
Katherine groans with exaggerated exasperation and you roll your eyes.
"He deserved it, but we know that. So nice try, but you're not getting off that easy."
Irritation layers your pout, but absentmindedly, you answer, "I don't know."
She stops you just before your shared car.
"Are you okay?" she questions with concern and for some reason, you have the urge to hug her and ask her if she's okay. She jumps back a little at your sudden action.
"Oh?"
"Hey guys, I don't know if you got my text but—" Jeremy doesn't finish because your arms wrap around him too. "Umm… are you okay? What's gotten into her?"
"No idea," Katherine answers and you shake your head against his shoulder before letting him go. He eyes your twin.
You have no idea either. "Sorry."
Katherine checks your temperature with the back of her hand, "Maybe we should stop by Uncle Greyson's office. Get you checked up."
You laugh, shoving her hand away. "Ha ha, you're hilarious."
Katherine chuckles while Jeremy nods, redirecting to his earlier inquiry. "So, did either of you get my text?"
You reach for your phone, but Katherine is already on it.
"No worries, cuz. Your mom called me earlier, asked if we could drop you off."
Jeremy's house is a 10-minute drive from the school and when you drop him off, his mom is at the front yard, waving to you two. She's wearing an apron and gardening gloves.
You wave back.
"Hey, Aunt Miranda," Katherine greets from the driver's seat.
"Hello, girls. Thanks for bringing Jeremy home. Say hi to your mom for me."
"Since when did she garden?"
Katherine laughs a little at the question but her cheerfulness fades when she sees your confusion. "Since mom challenged her to a green thumb competition. Are you sure you're okay?"
Are you?
When you get home, your father is on his favourite seat in the living room and is flipping through something on his tablet. Probably the news. He greets both of you with a big smile that warms your heart but for some reason that confusion persists.
John Gilbert doesn't act like that.
Does he?
"Girls, your mother is making dinner. She did also mention something about dessert but—"
Mother?
Wide eyed, your feet carry you to the kitchen with urgency.
Mom?
Why do you suddenly feel so excited?
You smell the food cooking.
Your stomach grumbles with more than just hunger.
The woman in the kitchen is at the counter, chopping something up with her back to you.
"Mom!" you call, and your mother turns, sunlight blinding you with her silhouette and then—you wake.
No.
A dream?
No, of course you wouldn't have seen Ilia. You have no idea what she looks like and even hallucinations can't make up these details.
"Well, hello."
You shut your eyes, blinking as if that'll make Tobias disappear.
He snaps his fingers in front of your face, "Elena? Are you there?"
Oddly enough, you are. The world isn't spinning, the walls aren't melting, and more importantly, no fake Katherine.
You soften your glare, because if he doesn't believe that you're completely aware, maybe he'll let his guard down.
Tobias reels back a little. And then, "Today's the day, Ms. Gilbert."
Today's the day? How long have you been here?
"Katherine will finally reunite with her mother. Or… well, you will, anyway."
You resist the urge to clench your jaw.
Tobias sits down, lowering his head into your line of sight. "I hope you're ready."
He laughs for a beat.
"Funny little story. You were not actually my first choice. Katherine, she just…" he grunts his annoyance. "I would've much preferred your sister. More authentic, I'd say, but you really are identical."
You shake his hand off your head.
"A shame. She always was so stubborn."
For the first time, you glare right into his gaze. The smugness rolling off him has you reeling. Your hands tighten around the arms of your chair.
"Does that make you angry? You know, just between us… and Robero, I presume, that same stubbornness only prolonged the way she suffered in that freezer. Imagine how suffocated she must've been in there. Cold. Bleeding. Till she finally died, that is."
You stand right up, lunging for the bastard but he barely flinches back.
More than two pairs of hands keep you in place, pushing you to sit.
"There you are," Tobias grins as you struggle against those holding you.
"I'm going to kill you," you hiss, saying louder with full intent, "You're dead!"
He only raises a brow, stepping aside to give the floor to the doctor that keeps appearing everywhere.
Try as you might, you still can't resist as he injects you with another inebriating dose.
Your last words echo in your own head like a promise.
I'm going to kill you.
-x-x-x-
You remember being in that room.
Tied to that chair.
Cursing at Tobias Pierce.
And then in that bed.
In some other room.
It was cold.
Cold.
Kol? Had Kol been there too?
Probably not.
For a while there, you'd been in a car.
Maybe.
You'd been blind folded… or something, because the next part unfolds like a theater play that only just opens its curtains in the middle of the fourth Act.
A woman is holding you with her arms wrapped tightly over your shoulders.
She's whispering something. You shake your head. Not whispering, she's saying something, but you can't hear.
She steps away.
You close your eyes.
"Hey, stay awake," Katherine says.
You barely turn your head at her hand, hating that it rests on your shoulder even though it doesn't feel like it.
"Go away. You're not… you're not real."
"Maybe not," she agrees, surprisingly. "But listen to them."
Them? Them. There're people around you. Tobias. Markos. Others you don't know the name of.
"Even if you're not really looking, you'll remember this."
"How do you know that…" little detail? You'd never told her about the extent of your photographic memory but then you remember, she's not really Katherine.
"Why are you being nice?" you question.
Her worry doesn't leave her face as her hand reaches up to touch yours in comfort. The gesture passes through like a ghost and behind her, Amelia mirrors her expression.
"What did you do to her, Tobias? What did you give her?"
"Ghost's aren't real, 'Lena," Katherine speaks. "You're hallucinating. You've been drugged."
"I know."
"Remember that. And remember that I'm dead, Elena. You saw it yourself. On the news. Stop denying it."
"No," you refute. The tears are back, and you repeat it, even if you'd already admitted that to yourself.
Amelia looks alarmed, scolding her brother, and for a split second, you wonder how much of what you're saying is actually out loud.
Your eyes drift back to Katherine's as she continues, uninterrupted, "And your hallucinations? I'm part of that. Anything I say or do depends on your perception of me. And I get it. You blame me for Jeremy."
You shake your head, "I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing. It's not like your anger is misplaced. Now focus. My mother is right there. You need to tell her what's going on without alerting Tobias. She'll help you."
"I can barely form sentences."
"You can do this. I know you can."
For some unknown reason, you believe her. Glutton for punishment, that's what you must be.
Knowing you need to make a move; you reach out to Amelia.
"Help," you breathe, and she responds in kind.
"I know, дете. I know…" she says something else. It sounds comforting but you don't understand and for once, you know you're not just blanking out.
Your face scrunches together, "I don't…"
She says something else, holding your face in her hands. When you don't respond her eyes rake over every inch of your face like she's searching for something. You suddenly feel subconscious. Can she tell you aren't her daughter?
A gun shot suddenly rings in your ear.
There's this high pitch followed by more shots.
And shouting.
You feel deaf.
Amelia is still holding you one second then she's not.
You rub your face.
You feel like the world is settling again, as if that drug is wearing off.
"Elena," Katherine's voice says but you don't see her.
"What's going on?"
"I've got you," a deeper voice answers, startling you.
Jackson.
You realize how close he is, arms wrapped around you, you can smell the fresh scent of his soap.
It makes you want to throw up.
Immediately, you shove him away. He lets you go, and you fall onto a carpet floor. Carpet? You're in yet another unfamiliar room with Jackson. Hadn't you just been with Amelia? And Tobias and Markos? At a warehouse of some sort? For that trade?
You may be confused, but the world isn't spinning anymore. At least not the way that drug had been making it seem.
How much time had you lost this time?
"Where am I?" you question the only person in the room.
Jackson replies with a word you don't feel, "Safe."
"I don't think so," you mutter. If he heard you, he doesn't react.
"My father isn't going to be making that deal with my aunt. They can't hurt you."
He sounds so confident, and implicitly, your brain recalls those gun shots supplying an explanation. Oh my god. Had he killed them? Even Amelia? She was supposed to help you. Or at least that's what fake Katherine had said. You'd barely even met her and already you feel some kind of loss.
"Why?"
"My father killed Katherine. He doesn't deserve to get what he wants."
Neither do you, you think but you don't even know what he wants. Why are you here?
"Why am I here?" you ask, realizing your mistake when his jaw sets. You're still on the ground and he's towering over you, his shoulders raising with his sigh. With a quick sense of panic, you push yourself backwards, crawling till you hit the wall. He steps towards you as you stand. "No."
"What's wrong?" he chuckles.
"Don't," you warn. If he takes one more step, he will get hurt. This is not happening.
He shakes his head. "You may look like her, but you aren't her."
"Then why am I here?"
"To prove a point."
Without further explanation, he turns around and leaves, locking the door behind him with a click.
"Wait," you leap forward, ignoring the way the fast movement makes you dizzy as you knock on the door. "Hey. Hey!"
Your fist pound on the wood to no avail, shouting till your throat hurts. You'd say he can't just leave you in here, but he just did. Dammit.
You fall at the foot of the door with a deep defeated sigh. For a second there, you really thought... Fuck. You should've lunged for him. Scratched his face off. Something. Anything. Instead, you're stuck in yet another room with yet another... chair.
You frown. The room is elegant. The walls and the chandelier and the door are all decorated in that same classic regal way, leading you to believe that you're in another Pierce mansion. It looks different from the one you'd last been in and this time, the only furniture with you is a chair.
Your stomach grumbles, and you get up and look around the empty room once you feel up for it. You check each and every crevice you can find but it's all as it appears.
When your stomach grumbles again, you have to recall the last time you ate. When was the last time you ate?
Later, you find yourself banging on the door, shouting for Jackson to let you out. Or at least, give you something to eat before you starve. Or... was that what he meant when he'd said he was proving a point? Was he going to starve you to death?
The thought has you panicking, banging on the door harder but still, no answer.
When you wake up, you realize you'd fallen asleep with your neck at a weird angle and now you have a cramp. Your stomach is persistent now, and yet no one's opened that door since Jackson left out of it. Desperately, you'd already tried to pry it open but with no tools, it's useless.
You don't remember what you did in between the times you fell asleep, but you'd attempted to throw the chair at the door before sitting on it.
Why is he doing this? you question, once the time passed feels like days already. You can't tell. And you have no answer, other than that, Jackson is psychotic.
The last thing you remember, before everything changed, is the shape of a figure coming towards you.
You blink a few times. Again?
Had Jackson come back and injected you without your notice?
She kneels down to your eye level.
"Katherine," you mutter weakly, finally glad to see someone else, even if it isn't real. The way she had kept appearing and disappearing before made your heart hurt. You wish she was really here.
She bites her lip and worried brows crease together.
The nice version? A relief, though a part of you would rather not see her at all. You still want to demand why she's following you, torturing you with her presence but her hands rest on your knees and you flinch at the gesture.
"Hey," she calls.
Your vision is blurry, and your head feels too heavy. If this isn't the drugs, you've really gone delirious.
Firmly, she repeats, "Hey."
Warm hands hold either sides of your face as she speaks.
You don't understand what she's saying so you try to focus. This feels like deja vu.
"You…" you barely get out, interrupting as you feel a tangible forearm under your fingers.
Your heart leaps and somehow you feel dizzier.
"Are… are you real?"
"I hope so," she says, offering a half-hearted smile.
"You're alive," you mutter, welcoming the relief. If this isn't real either, you accept it even more, tired of fighting with a ghost.
Just this once, you'll let this delusion in, even if it isn't… Is this real?
"Hey," she shakes you. "Stay with me."
This is definitely deja vu. You must still be hallucinating because this already happened. You might as well be staring at the crumpled wall of that bus.
It's getting dark.
You blink a few times.
"Dammit," Katherine is as persistent as this darkness. "Elena!"
Her voice swirls in your head just as everything disappears.