The rush of water filled Elena's ears, and an overwhelming sense of deja-vu threatened to overwhelm her. The past few minutes played through her mind in agonizingly slow motion.

She'd been on the phone with…Damon? No. Caroline.

Then Matt was slamming his fists against the steering wheel.

And then... and then?

Elena struggled to open her eyes, but her eyelids had never been so heavy. She wasn't in the truck any longer. She couldn't be. She was cold and wet and trapped in the darkness.

Trapped. Yes, she was trapped. Water enveloped her. It wasn't a bad dream. It wasn't her mind playing tricks on her. This was real. Her eyes fought against the desire to close and stay closed. She needed to wake up. She had to wake up. If she didn't…if she didn't, something bad would happen.

She won the battle against her eyelids and instantly wished she hadn't.

Matt was lying slumped over the wheel - unconscious but breathing. The cab of the truck rapidly filled with the same tepid water that stole her parents from her almost exactly two years ago. The bubble of air at the roof of the truck was rapidly dwindling away.

"Matt. Matt!" Elena gulped some of the precious air left in the cab in her struggle to wake him. They'd been friends since they were both in diapers, and he was here because of her. Just like her parents had died in this spot…because of her.

No one else was dying because of her. It stopped here.

"Matt." Elena took one last full breath as the water level rose to cover her lips and mouth and eyes. How long could someone go without oxygen? Since he was unconscious, he didn't know to hold his breath. He gagged and gave a weak cough.

Panic gripped at her.

How many times had she almost died in the past year? In the past few months? In the past few days?

If she could breathe, she'd give a grim laugh. She'd taken on a vampire with a handful of pencils and survived, yet her demise would be drowning in a truck. But somehow it was still fitting, as she should have died here two years ago. And this time, she'd be dying alongside the best friend anyone could ask for... unless-

Unless she could get out of the seatbelt and get out of the truck. Matt was the lifeguard of the pair, but Elena had always been a strong swimmer – at least before the accident. After the accident, well, no one had questioned the fact that pretty much she avoided swimming altogether.

Her fingers fumbled with the buckle. Damn it, Matt's ancient truck!

This thing had always been cranky. This wasn't the time for the truck to work against them. Seatbelts were supposed to ensure their safety – not seal their fate in the watery depths.

Her lungs burned, and her eyes filled with tears. Maybe that was simply the water swirling around her head. The pounding in her chest kept time with her fingertips as she struggled to free Matt. Maybe if she could get him out, they wouldn't both have to die.

Just when she thought it was time to give up, just when the cab of the truck swam in even murkier darkness, just when her chest threatened to explode – something was outside the window.

Not just something. Someone.

For an instant, she looked for a swirl of coal-black hair. But the shape had a face... Stefan's. Of course.

The door flew off the truck with a soundless shriek. His arms reached for her, but she stopped him, pointing to Matt. Stefan's eyes widened, and if they'd been where they could breathe, he'd probably try to argue. Right now, though, she could only get the message to him through the force of her will.

He hesitated for half-a-heartbeat. Then he wrenched Matt from behind the wheel. Elena wanted to breathe a sigh of relief. Matt wouldn't die tonight – not because he'd been trying to get her to safety. And that was good.

Her fingers and toes started to tingle, and a fuzzy feeling swam inside her. No one else would die.

The thought swirled inside her with the same intensity of the brackish water flowing around her head. No one else would die.

But they would. As long as Alaric was alive, her friends would be in danger. Caroline. Stefan. Bonnie's mom...

Damon.

Her heart skipped a beat, and it wasn't because she was drowning. In a strange moment of clarity, their last conversation played out in her mind, and she remembered the hesitant tone in his voice. He said he'd see her again. Soon.

He'd been lying.

God, why hadn't she realized it then? Realized it when it might have mattered. But it still could. They were all in danger as long as Alaric was alive. And Alaric would be alive until…

Elena's ears started to ring. Her heart wanted to explode. She wasn't going to make it. Stefan should be back in mere seconds. And if he made it back to her, they'd all still be in danger. She couldn't do it. She couldn't let them be in danger.

Not when she could stop him.

She squeezed her hands into such tight fists, she thought her skin would tear. She closed her eyes tightly. It sounded strange, but she didn't want to see death coming. And it was coming, because she was inviting it.

She opened her mouth and took in a deep gulp of water.

Mercifully, everything around her melted into the blackness around her.

oOo

His brother was gone. His brother was gone. In the blink of an eye, the young man he'd once sworn eternal allegiance with was simply gone. The immortal Klaus, the most powerful force in nature... was gone.

No part of his being could accept those words, even if they'd been uttered by his sister. Rebekah was simply mistaken. Her eyes deceived her.

Or Klaus was deceiving them. The details simply didn't measure up.

The Mystic Falls vampires were alive. They were still walking and breathing... existing. And yet his brother had died? Klaus sired their blood line – of that he was quite certain. If Klaus were gone, they should be as well. Something clearly wasn't right.

Tires screeched in the distance, interrupting his thoughts. The sound of a thousand rocks striking the surface of the water followed closely behind. And then he heard a scream.

Not just any scream - it was the sort of primitive scream that needed no words to express the depths of its pain. Elijah knew only one thing that could send Stefan so deeply into those depths. Only one thing could propel Stefan Salvatore into that much horror mixed with grief. And the thought of something happening to Elena chilled the blood in his veins.

Elijah ran.

More vague noises directed his way. Splashing. Coughing. The kind of sputter Elijah had long ago learned signaled impending death. He sped through the woods, unencumbered by the filtered moonlight. All too quickly, he arrived at Drowning Creek.

Drowning Creek. He cringed at the name. Honestly, what kind of insanity caused the first settlers to this out-of-the-way place to name the only way into town Drowning Creek? Unless the one who bestowed the name had a premonition for all the lives the ribbon of water would someday claim.

He broke through the last of the trees and stood on the water's edge just looking at the scene in horror. A rainbow-sheen of oil danced atop the water, and ripples disturbed the surface, an aberration in the still night. A handful of bubbles signaled something had gone wrong.

But he didn't need to see the water or hear the bubbles pop, he simply needed to glance at the drenched form to see something was wrong. Matt sat hunched and bent at the waist, palms in the mud, his eyes searching the brackish depths.

"What happened?" Elijah was at Matt's side before the boy even realized he'd arrived. Matt blinked and shook his head in disbelief. He was in shock, but Elijah had no time for kid gloves. He knelt at the boy's side, took Matt's chin in his hand, and met his wavering stare. "Tell me what happened."

"Rebekah." Matt's voice had the far-away quality that signaled his mind was trying to retreat rather than deal with the facts at hand. "I was driving and then... And then she was just there." His words rose in pitch as if he were asking himself a question.

"And what happened then?"

Matt's eyes returned to their vigil, watching the now-still water. "I…I didn't want to hit her." His eyes blinked, clearly replaying the events in his mind. "She was standing in the middle of the road. She knew I'd have to drive into the water. She wanted me to wreck the truck."

Rebekah had always been impulsive. And, he had to admit, more than a touch vindictive. And he had no question that she absolutely hated Elena. But this? They'd given their word she wouldn't be harmed.

Before Elijah had the chance to process what he'd just heard, the stillness of the creek was broken. Stefan emerged, holding a dripping, limp form. He didn't need to ask Stefan the question he couldn't bring himself to voice. Rather than stay here and linger in his grief at the loss whose life was cut far too short, he retreated back into the trees from where he'd come.

It was time for him to have a discussion with his sister.

oOo

Ric's fist connected with Damon's jaw, filling his vision with a multitude of stars while also knocking him back against something hard. Was it the car? Or maybe the oversized toolbox. He guessed it didn't really matter. The end result was the same…he was lying on the floor with his former-best-friend's foot planted on his neck.

He wasn't exactly certain why, but it was in that moment that he knew this truly was the end. One of them wasn't making it out of this storage building alive. Even if Alaric hadn't been some type of invincible monster, Damon wouldn't have been able to kill him.

Not when he knew what the cost would be.

If Damon killed Ric, he'd lose someone else too. Someone far more valuable to him than his own life. He just wished he'd really told her goodbye. He'd lied to her when he said he'd see her soon.

And he suspected she knew it. Something in the way she hesitated when she said goodbye. Her voice had just the slightest not-quite-right lilt to it. She'd chosen his brother, but she still wanted Damon to be happy too. Typical.

But now he was about to die without a decent goodbye to her. A goodbye where he could look into those doe-eyes and pretend they weren't swimming with tears. A goodbye where he could taste those tears as he pressed his lips against hers.

A foot caught him in the stomach, sending what little air was left in his lungs out in a surge. Even knowing he was about to die, he couldn't convince himself to lie back and take it.

Damon reached up and grabbed hold of Ric's foot, twisting it at the ankle, sending him off-balance. Then he used Ric's weight for leverage, pulling himself to his feet. He thrust one quick jab into Ric's stomach, surprised when his opponent stopped and gasped for breath.

Invincible his ass.

A surge of surprise washed through him. Maybe he'd make it out of here after all. His eyes darted around the room to find the quickest path to escape. Maybe he hadn't lied to Elena after all.

But the moment of elation was short-lived. Without Damon laying a hand on him, Ric stumbled not once, not twice, but three times before landing on his knees. A faint sheen covered Ric's forehead as he clutched at his throat.

"What's. Going. On?" His friend's voice choked out of the body of the man Damon now only knew as an enemy.

Damon watched in horror as Ric's face took on a gray tone followed by black veins snaking up from beneath the collar of his shirt. No. God, no! If there was a God in heaven, He needed to make this stop. Because only one thing could kill Ric. "Stay with me, Ric." He held his friend in his arms as Ric dropped to the ground. "No. No. No!"

The echo of his own voice was his only answer. Ric couldn't be gone. Damon refused to admit it. Because if his friend was gone…

Damon was in his car, but he didn't remember walking through the hallway, going down the stairs, or pushing through the doorway. By the time he was capable of thought again, he was sitting behind the steering wheel driving into a crisis he didn't understand.

It would help if Stefan would answer his phone. Or Caroline would answer hers. Or even Elijah. Their sudden silence was…troubling. As his foot pressed the accelerator to the floorboard, he cursed their idea to hide Klaus' body so far from Mystic Falls.

When an immortal vampire was looking for something, did a few hours' drive really matter that much? It made sense at the time, but now it was simply a hindrance to getting back to the town he never should have left.

Damn that flip of the coin. Fate took him away from Mystic Falls at exactly the wrong time. He should have been there, making sure Elena was safe.

When it came to her safety, he didn't even trust his own brother. Stefan had failed Damon before. He'd done things that put her life in danger. If anything happened to Elena…

Miles passed in a blur.

Miles passed too slowly.

His car hugged the curves and flew down hills. He drove through the little country streets, unafraid of being seen. No one would catch him. And if some local cop had the misfortune of stumbling across his path, he'd regret it.

One thought after another filled his mind, each less likely than the one before it. As much as he desperately wanted to cling to hope, the longer Stefan went without answering his phone, the worse he knew everything was.

Still, deep inside, he was holding out hope.

Maybe Esther was rusty. She could have messed up the spell. How long had she been locked up in that coffin anyway? When she did the linking spell, something could have gone wrong.

He clung to that thought until he approached Wickery Bridge.

Damon saw the flashing lights first. Two fire trucks were closest to the bridge. Three police cars were parked haphazardly along the bank. Two different wreckers looked as if they could pitch into the water at any second.

Damon skidded to a stop just behind Liz's car. He flew out of the driver's side in search of the one person who might be able to tell him what in hell had happened. His pulse churned in his ears and a sour taste welled in the back of his throat.

Liz stood next to the water with her hand on her hip. Damon didn't have to see her face to know she was looking for something. A jumble of voices reached his ears. He heard Matt talking with someone he didn't know.

Matt. Matt was driving Elena. If Matt was here, maybe she was too. For a split-second, relief washed over him. It hung, suspended in mid-air, almost within reach. Then he saw an all-too-familiar form.

Stefan stood on the edge of the woods, the feeble moonlight casting him into shadow. From his bent head to his stooped shoulders to the way he rested his palm against the trunk of a tree, he was the picture of despair.

Rage surged through him. The quarterback was sitting in the police car, and Elena was nowhere. If his brother…

Damon couldn't even complete the thought.

"Where is she?" Not even thinking about who might see him, Damon rushed full-speed at Stefan, catching him off-guard and knocking him against the trunk of the tree. "Where is Elena?"

The expression on Stefan's face told him far more than any words could convey, still, his brother had the misfortune of trying to answer. "It was Rebekah." Stefan's eyes were glazed and unfocused. "When she heard about Klaus…"

"I don't care about Rebekah or Klaus. I want to know where Elena is and why Matt is sitting in the back of a car."

Stefan shook his head like he was trying to come to terms with what had happened. "Matt wasn't thinking. He swerved to miss Rebekah."

"Get to the Elena part of the story." Damon wrapped his hand around Stefan's neck, pressing him tighter against the tree.

"I swam down. Matt was unconscious, but Elena wasn't."

"Where is she?"

Stefan's eyes filled as he bit down on his bottom lip while shaking his head. "She wouldn't let me save her first. She kept shaking her head and pointing to him."

"And you did it?"

"It was only going to take a second to get to the surface! She was fine! She could hold her breath. She could wait. It's what she wanted-"

"It's what she wanted?" For the first time in a very long time, Damon almost killed his brother. "They were in a truck at the bottom of Drowning Creek and you listened to her?" Damon dropped a branch he hadn't remembered breaking off the tree.

"She wanted me to save Matt."

"Save Matt. So The Grill wouldn't lose its busboy? So the school would still have its back-up quarterback?" Damon was prepared to launch into another round of accusations, but then he noticed that Stefan wasn't looking at him. Instead, his eyes were locked on something in the distance.

Almost on instinct, Damon knew what he'd find.

He didn't want to turn around. He didn't want to see. He didn't want to see her, but he had to do it.

A black bag almost blended in with the darkness of the night. Here, in the middle of the woods, it could have been filled with almost anything. Leaves. Branches. Trash left over from a Boy Scout clean-up weekend. But it wasn't just anything. It wasn't just anything, and he knew it.

He released his grip on Stefan and started walking. In reality, the bag was merely a few feet away. But tonight that felt like a mile.

One step. Two steps.

Three.

His knees buckled, and he collapsed next to the body bag. "No." He could barely form words. "No." If he'd been here, she would still be with him. Yes, she'd be mad at him. She might never speak to him again. He might be watching her grieve in Stefan's arms.

But she'd be alive.

His fingers closed on the zipper. He thought Stefan tried to tell him not to do it, but words weren't exactly making sense any longer. With agonizing slowness, he unzipped the bag.

Her hair was wet. He wasn't sure why that surprised him. When he pictured Elena in his mind, he always pictured her with perfectly straightened hair that was so shiny it almost glowed. Now, though, he could tell her hair was normally curly. And it looked darker than normal against her too-white skin.

Her face was expressionless. He'd seen a lot of death in his years on earth. Hell, he'd caused a lot of it. Elena's features weren't locked in fear and horror like so many he'd seen. Instead, she almost looked peaceful. A question tugged at the back of his mind. But for now, that question needed to stay buried.

He couldn't help himself. He placed his hand against her too-cool cheek, caressing it with his thumb like he'd done so many times before. Time passed. Seconds. Minutes. Maybe hours. No one disturbed him. Liz and the rest of the police were busy. They'd deal with Elena's body later.

Stefan stayed away – either out of guilt or fear of what Damon might do. For the first time that night, his brother made a good decision.

Cheers went up, and Damon's eyes snapped to the scene in the distance. A group of men excitedly pointed to Matt's truck dangling from one of the wreckers. Feral anger threatened to overcome him. No one should be happy right now.

He turned back to Elena. The corner of her eye twitched.

He must have been seeing things.

He blinked. So did she.

She coughed and gagged and sputtered like a child who'd swallowed too much water in the pool. Her brown eyes were filled with a mix of confusion and fear. "Damon, what's happening…I was…how did I?"

That's when he remembered what happened one night before. Elena had collapsed in a pool of blood. Jeremy had taken her to the hospital where Meredith assured him that she'd be fine.

Meredith.

"What did Meredith do?"

LastDayOfTVD is the pen name of the writing team of NotEnoughPotter and LastDayOfMagic.