A.N.: So, the Originals have united against Klaus; and Elena ran off. Again.


Resurgam

18

Whiplash


"So what's going on, Matt?" Tyler asked quietly, driving slowly through the streets of Mystic Falls. With Elena's postpartum making it hard for her even to leave the loft, there were very few places Matt could think she'd actually go, but he had a few ideas; it didn't help that most people Elena might go to were at the Boarding House. "Elena do this often?"

"She just…is having a hard time," Matt said, shaking his head; he sat in the passenger seat, and Tyler could scent his agitation, his…anger. He was good at hiding it, but Matt was angry.

"Seems like she's making it a whole lot harder on you," Tyler muttered: He'd had a lot of phone-calls with Giulia and Caroline, and even his mom, about Matt and the baby - and Elena's postpartum depression. Thing was, he'd known someone who'd suffered through it and thought, You know what, I do not accept this: I refuse to give into it: I will conquer you and live my life to the fullest, the way I want to.

Zara had struggled after giving up Noah: But like everything in her life, she had raised her chin, put on some mascara and decided she was not going to let herself get kicked and crushed by whatever Fate threw her way. She decided her own destiny; she had fought for it since she was old enough to remember actively making decisions for herself, her safety, her future.

Zara had acknowledged she was struggling; she had sought help; she had learned how to wield the tools to manage her condition, and transformed her pain into something creative, channelled her experience into helping other women suffering the same way she had: Zara now volunteered once a week as leader for a support-group for women and girls who had given up babies for adoption, helping work through all of the emotional trauma that went along with that.

So Tyler had a hard time sitting back and biting his tongue when he saw Elena, who was surrounded by family, by love, and by support - something Zara had never had until they met - making excuses for not taking care of herself. She was being thoughtless and selfish, and leaving Matt, who had never done anything but work hard since he was fourteen years old, to carry the weight of working full-time and being a single-father and carer for an emotionally-distant dependent who stubbornly refused to get herself help, and contributed nothing to their home or their child's care.

It was going to kill Matt, trying to keep on top of everything; it wasn't fair on him, and it wasn't fair on Grayson. Tyler was pissed that Elena was taking advantage of Matt's hardworking nature, and his love for her, which had always been indulgent; Matt had always let Elena get away with everything, even when they were still dating as kids. She'd flutter those eyelashes, twirl her long dark hair, and he'd lay down for her to walk all over him.

The older they got, the less Tyler tolerated people's bullshit treatment of their friends.

He had been…so lucky in his friends - in Matt, yes; but also in Caroline, who remained his friend to this day in spite of their breakup, and who he had nothing but respect for, and appreciated how priceless his experience with her was - she had set the standards for vampires, showing him what he should expect from vampires, and tolerate nothing less. And Giulia, the childhood friend and childhood sweetheart he had taken for granted and betrayed, and who had put her foot down; and who had offered him a hand and picked him up, dusted the dirt off him, when the world blindsided him and sent him sprawling on his ass.

Matt sighed heavily. And, maybe it was because he didn't see Tyler every day, maybe because Tyler didn't know the ins and outs of his marriage, Matt admitted, "I don't know what to do."

Tyler was used to teenaged kids approaching him with the same forlorn expression, the same terror and grief and hopelessness in their eyes, defeated: He told Matt what he often had to remind his kids. "You're not in this alone, Matt. Maybe Elena's checked out, but there's still a tonne of people here to support you."

"Yeah," Matt groaned, exhausted, and rubbed his face. Matt and Elena had gotten married young; they had become parents comparatively young, too - because they had wanted to, because Elena wanted to be a young mom able to spend as many years with her kids, active and engaged, as possible. Matt was twenty-eight and way too young to have to be dealing with all this. Matt sighed heavily. "I'm grateful. Rose looks after Grayson when I can't trust Elena will; we're swimming in casseroles Caroline brings over once a week."

Tyler chuckled softly, but sighed. "She's not doing anything."

Matt sighed. "No."

"She's too used to everyone carrying her damn water," Tyler muttered, and he could understand Giulia's historic frustration with Elena. The girl was spoiled. "Maybe it's time they stopped pitching in."

"You're probably right," Matt said heavily, "I just can't…can't do it all by myself. I can't look after Grayson and cook and keep on top of the laundry and buying groceries and work full-time…"

"Thing is, Matt…you shouldn't have to," Tyler said quietly, and his heart sank into his stomach, thinking, Please don't let it be Matt's car… He followed the sound of sirens that Matt, a human, couldn't yet hear. The intersection was blocked off by Sheriff's Department cruisers.

"What the hell?!" Matt blurted, already digging for the door-handle, choking himself on his seatbelt as he tried to get out of the Jeep. Tyler pulled over, head in his hands, already reaching for his phone to call Giulia, as the blue lights blared so brightly he couldn't see straight. Hazards on, he climbed out of Caroline's Jeep and raised his phone to his ear, watching Matt dart over to the ambulance where Elena was perched, bleeding from the head, having a flashlight shined into her eyes for pupil-response - another ambulance was tearing away with lights and sirens wailing, and Tyler could smell blood. Someone small was being loaded into a third ambulance, strapped into a gurney and holding the hand of a white-faced woman.

It looked like Elena had smashed Matt's old and faithful car right into the side of a little silver Chevy, which was now crumpled and smashed and on its side under a lamppost.

"Hey," he said, when Giulia answered. "We found Elena."

There was a beat, and her voice was solemn when she asked, "Are those sirens I can hear?"

"There's been an accident," Tyler said, sighing heavily, watching Matt be admitted under the police tape to approach the ambulance. He watched as Matt approached Elena: She set eyes on him and burst into tears. "Elena's upset, but they're not rushing her to the hospital."

"Why does it sound as if they did rush someone else to the hospital?"

"One ambulance was tearing off as we got here; they're loading a kid into a second one," Tyler said grimly. "A kid, Giulia… Do you know if she'd been drinking?"

"I don't. Is Matt there?"

"He's with Elena."

"What're you getting off him?" Tyler subtly scented the air, and sighed.

"Anger."

"Stay with him, Tyler," Giulia said quietly, sadly.

"Yeah, I'm not going anywhere."

"Just let him know that Grayson's being looked after," Giulia said. "He doesn't need to worry about Gray right now."

"I'll tell him. I'll let you know what's going on, okay? Can you text me Rose's number, just in case?" Tyler asked, watching Elena mime having a pain in her neck. Matt lingered, simmering; Tyler had rarely seen him so angry, but he was choking it down, furious - but also worried. The two mingled together and if Elena couldn't smell the anger coming off him, she could see from Matt's expression that her husband was pissed.

All the exhaustion and worry festering in Matt, all the long hours, the loneliness and tension, the grief and helplessness, everything he'd choked down so as not to upset his ill wife, it all seemed to be channelled into his anger.

Matt was pissed, and he remained pissed as he spoke politely with the Sheriff's Deputies, leaving their details; Tyler took care not to absorb Matt's rage as his own as Matt climbed into the Jeep, asking Tyler quietly to drive them - slowly - to the hospital. Elena sat crying messily in the back, cradling her hand, moaning every time they went over a pothole: The ambulance was needed for the kid in the neck-brace, but Elena had been cleared to make her own way to the ER for treatment.

Tyler didn't know what Matt's insurance covered: There was no need for the extra expenditure of an ambulance when Tyler was more than capable of getting them to the ER. Especially when the kid in the neck-brace so obviously needed said ambulance.

It was a silent ride, except for Elena's snivelling, choking cries. She was upset: But Tyler imagined she had been upset when she drove into the other family's Chevy. He could smell the shock coming off her, the grief and blame; he could smell the trauma.

But whatever had caused her to steal Matt's keys and leave the party without telling anyone did not excuse almost killing an entire family because she was upset.

He and Matt had been talking about forcing Elena to be accountable for her life - their life, their son's life: Was it awful to hope tonight scared the ever-living fuck out of Elena?

She had almost killed a family - hell, they didn't know what state the person in the first ambulance was in, or what procedures the kid in the neck-brace might need, how tonight could permanently alter the lives of the mom and the other kid… The same way Elena's family was brutally ripped apart by a car-accident, over a decade ago.

It didn't matter what had upset Elena to make her leave the party: She had chosen to get behind the wheel of a car, upset, and that selfishness had now put the lives of four strangers in jeopardy.

Tyler drove them to Mystic Falls General, and Matt walked Elena into the ER: They had a long night ahead of them.


She ended her call and sighed, setting the phone down and groaning. The hot-tub was gurgling, pummelling achy spots, and the stars were twinkling down on her: Usually the warm water and bubbles were enough to take the edge off, but tonight...

The Klaus of it all; the fireworks and Zita's reaction to them; Willem's call… Elijah kissing her…

She shouldn't be letting him get comfortable doing that every time he saw her…

Her eyes opened as her instincts picked up on the change in the atmosphere…a predator's nearness. She stood in the hot-tub, and sighed, relaxing back into the water when she realised who it was.

"I didn't think I'd be seeing you again tonight," she said thoughtfully. Willem strode over, looking relaxed - his body-language was relaxed; but his eyes were stark. She frowned gently. He leaned over to kiss her cheek in greeting: He had brought a bottle of wine. A rather nice bottle of red.

"The others have, uh…got things under control," Willem sighed, running a hand through his blonde hair.

"How is it?" Giulia asked quietly.

She had done her part: For the briefest moment, she had luxuriated in the triumph of seeing Klaus realising he had been undone utterly. But she actively chose to step back. Now that the Originals were awake, and aware, now that they were openly communicating for the first time in centuries, now that ancient scars had been ripped open to discover the putrefaction beneath, they could start to cut out the decay and heal. That was their family's business: Giulia was not entitled to stick her nose in. She had orchestrated the confrontation, armed the siblings with knowledge and sown the seeds of unification…but it wasn't her family, and it wasn't her responsibility.

She had spent a decade unravelling everything Klaus had built over centuries. And…she had enjoyed it. She had done it because she could: and because it was the most passive-aggressive, unexpected move that Klaus would never see coming.

Destroy the legend; destroy his reputation. Destroy the tyrant; turn people's fear against him. Unite his family; eradicate his leverage over them.

Giulia had spent a decade dismantling everything Klaus was, doing what Elijah had never been able to do in a thousand years. What no-one had ever dreamed was even possible. She hadn't needed to capture and torment the monstrous Klaus: His new nature was punishment enough.

Truthfully, she hadn't ruined Klaus for the sole purpose of destroying a sadistic despot: She had done it to free Elijah. And, by extension, the other Originals, Elijah's brothers and sisters, his daughter. She wanted Elijah to be free to create his own life; to choose his fate; to live. To have no part of his life dictated, tormented, by Klaus.

She had put everything in place for Elijah to live the life he wanted, should he so choose.

Willem, who hadn't seen the majority of his family in nine centuries, let alone shared in their dysfunction, shook his head, perching on the edge of the hot-tub. "The others are letting off steam."

"Well, I should think they're entitled," Giulia said gently. "They'll get bored eventually."

"Until they calm down, and want to have a conversation, I'm taking a step back," Liam told her, and she nodded, thinking the choice was wise. He hadn't had any part in his family's dysfunction - for whatever reason, he had melted into the mists when Marseilles was under attack in the 1040s A.D. He hadn't spent time with anyone but Gyda since then.

The difference between Willem's psychological healthfulness and the dysfunction of his estranged siblings was staggering. He was relaxed, had an easy self-assuredness, was approachable and generous with his time, earnest and nurturing: Whoever the Originals were, they were embroiled in centuries of sadistic abuse and pain, hatred and fear.

If they had finished hashing out ancient grievances against Klaus ten years from now, Giulia would be shocked.

But none of them had more to hold against Klaus than Rebekah and Elijah, the older brother he loved and resented, and the favourite sister he disdained and was possessive of. Those two, he had kept around him the longest, had abused the most horrifically, had worn down and exhausted, until they were unrecognisable to someone like Willem - one of the rare people, like Finn, who had known them a thousand years ago, at their beginning…before they had become The Originals; before Niklaus had become Klaus Mikaelson… He could see the changes Klaus's abuse had wrought in them; because he had not been warped by the same manipulation.

Liam remembered his siblings as they had once been: Giulia suspected it was even more devastating to see them, now, after all that time had passed, trying to imagine what horrors had been inflicted on them to create such a change in the people he had once known.

They looked the same; they were completely different people.

Giulia wondered if Willem didn't look at his siblings and wonder whether they weren't being possessed by other people. They spoke with his brothers' and sisters' voices, but the way the moved was different, the way they spoke, the way they interacted with each other and even how the dynamics had shifted amongst them was something that had developed over the centuries.

"That's healthy and utterly too mature," Giulia warned Willem; he chuckled drily. She sighed softly. "How did you find them?"

"Gyda once mentioned how they had all changed over the centuries," Liam said softly. "I am sure they do not remember the person I was, to notice any changes in me, but I know I am not the same man I was all those centuries ago."

"How could you be?" Giulia asked gently.

"I don't recognise them, Giulia. You warned me. I - I don't recognise him."

"Well, vampirism either draws the focus to our best natures, or unleashes our worst instincts," Giulia said, speaking from experience. Caroline and Rose made phenomenal vampires: They set the standard. Giulia was rather unforgiving of any other vampire who couldn't be bothered to aspire to those standards: She knew better. She knew everything a vampire did was a choice: Sadism was not an instinct of vampirism. She did not tolerate cruelty. "With Klaus, I imagine a little of both played out in him. It stripped back everything he used to hide his nature; but he also came into his own as a vampire."

He had learned how to utilise his greatest weapon: Manipulation.

"Maybe it's an opportunity for you all," Giulia said thoughtfully. "You've not all been in the same country for centuries, let alone the same room. Perhaps if you wanted to focus less on Klaus, and more than the others…that'd be far healthier for everyone."

"I don't know… I came because I was curious, and because Sasha fought your case," Liam said, rolling his eyes subtly, and Giulia laughed.

"So that's why. I'm actually surprised you did show up," Giulia said honestly. "Not that I don't appreciate your intervention yesterday afternoon, but…I am surprised."

"Well, I could hardly ignore the Bat Signal."

"Yes, you could. What are you curious about?"

"Klaus." They exchanged a long, loaded look. He sighed, then smiled. "Other things, too; I only caught a little glimpse of Zita, I'd like to see more of her later on."

Giulia went cold, staring at him. He wanted to see Zita? Her Zita?

Her mind raced. Her breath danced off the still water as the hot-tub stopped bubbling, and goose-bumps appeared on her flesh as adrenaline surged through her body, live with dread. She stared at Willem, whose expression suddenly fell, realisation hitting, chagrined, apologetic. She read his reactions, wished she could get inside his mind. Hers whispered, Sasha.

"He told you… He had no right to tell you," she whispered, utterly betrayed.

Willem swallowed, and she drifted away from him to the other side of the tub, staring out across the moonlit water, rippling delicately in the breeze that sent chills down her spine as cooling water dripped from her hair.

"Giulia…" He sighed, and tried another angle. "Sasha tells me everything."

She turned in the water, eyeing him shrewdly, her eyes stinging with tears. He had told Willem. He had betrayed her trust: He had put her child in jeopardy. Zita was hers.

"He had no right to tell you this," she said, deeply upset.

"He had to…he needs help," Willem said grimly, and Giulia stared at him. He suddenly looked exhausted, grim. The ageless Willem looked old, as if every year had caught up with him, grief and confusion and desperation settling into the lines and contours of his face. And she realised, he knew.

"You know her," she said wonderingly. Willem glanced up, and the dread and pain in his face melted away as he smiled; it was a heartbroken smile, but it was a smile. And it made everything a hundred times worse; Giulia angrily pushed hot tears away, staring stubbornly across the lake.

"I loved her mother, a very long time ago," Liam said quietly. "We have remained close ever since. And Sasha is struggling. He had to tell someone. But Zita… Zita is yours, Giulia; now and always. I did not come here to take her from you. I could never do that: I could never deprive her the rich, beautiful life you have created for her, where she is surrounded by love… You know too much of Sasha's enemies…would Zita survive them?" Giulia flinched. Willem sighed, inching closer. He caught her eye and held her gaze. "She is yours, Giulia. Nothing and no-one could ever change that."

"Don't promise me that," she whispered sternly, her eyes burning.

Liam sighed. "Perhaps you should talk to Sasha. If I cannot set you at ease, perhaps he can."


She was alive: and he was furious.

It was a long, drawn-out night of poor lighting, worse coffee and waiting. While Elena was scanned and prodded and X-rayed and examined, Matt was given paperwork to fill in.

Six hours in the ER, and Elena had a fractured wrist and a mild concussion, slight bruising and abrasions from the airbag.

Meanwhile, Matt had a ruined baby car-seat, a totalled car, a claim against their health-insurance that would push his premiums up, a pending criminal charge against Elena for causing the accident, and a potential lawsuit that he would have to hire representation for.

He was glad she was okay: He was furious she'd caused an accident.

He was exhausted at the prospect of trying to afford a lawyer: He was trying to figure out how to expense a new car: He was trying to think where he could get a new car-seat for Grayson. And how much longer would this take, because would he have to take a day's vacation, last-minute, to stay in the waiting-room while Elena had a CT-Scan he couldn't afford if he hadn't insisted they pay for insurance rather than the Netflix subscription Elena wanted.

He simply couldn't afford to pay for her meltdowns anymore.

"How is she?" Rose asked, as he paced outside. The lights and the smells were getting to him; he needed some air, and he needed to make some calls and respond to the messages on his phone.

"They're putting a cast on her wrist," Matt sighed heavily.

"Have you heard anything about the other two?"

"One of them is still in surgery," Matt said. "Apparently Meredith's in there with him, or I'm sure she'd tell me what's going on."

"Are you doing okay?"

"No." He sighed. "So, uh…I guess Elena spoke with Stefan Salvatore at the party."

"And whatever he said was upsetting enough that she goes and almost kills four people?" Rose sighed, and Matt nodded.

"You don't happen to have his number, do you?"

"Stefan's? I can get it."

He felt better, after he yelled at Stefan.

And he completely deflated, helpless, when Stefan told him, "Look, I told her to stay out of what's going on… It's not her life anymore; you and your son are…"

He wished that were true. Weeks after Stefan's return to town, and Elena was more animated, more engaged than Matt had seen her in months; she spent all day on her phone trying to contact him, or worrying when she didn't hear back from him. She got ready to go out in anticipation of seeing him; and got upset and fled the scene when she did see him, and he wasn't interested.

Stefan knew things had changed; they had all grown, moved on. He knew Elena was a twenty-seven year-old wife and a mother…even if Elena would now rather she wasn't either of those things. If she could reverse time and go back to their junior-year, when she had been in love with a vampire, when everything had been thrilling and temporary and precious…

She'd settled for Matt as they grew up and realised that life wasn't a fairy-tale; and now Stefan was back, exactly as Elena remembered, a constant reminder of magic.

That there was more out there… More than a tired husband who worked long hours and a crying baby she couldn't bond with.

Elena had gotten what she wanted: A pretty wedding, a husband who adored her, a cute baby. And as soon as she got it, she didn't want it anymore. She wanted…more.

He had worked hard to build their lives: He couldn't afford the life she wanted. The rich, beautiful memories of a warm, happy family in a picture-perfect house with red geraniums on the porch and a swing, Games Night with takeout, sneaking her little brother to parties in the woods, when her family had been whole, when her life had been perfect.

She had wanted that: She had wanted to be a homemaker like her warm, maternal mom. She had wanted Matt to come home at six every day, smiling and content, to start cooking and turn on the music as she cuddled their baby…the way things had been, for a little while, when they had first been married, when everything had been fresh and exciting, even while she was pregnant she had been excited that the life she had always envisioned for herself was about to begin.

The reality of their life together fell short, by Elena's measuring. Matt…she was all he had ever wanted, and he loved Grayson more than anyone in the world - including Elena. Considering where he had started, the life he had built was beyond anything he could have imagined when he was seventeen, and hopeless, and left behind. He had earned everything they had.

And he was becoming disillusioned by how much Elena took it all for granted.

Jeremy picked them up from the hospital: He dropped them off outside their building, saying he hoped Elena felt better after a good night's sleep, and he'd talk to Matt in the morning… Did it count if it was already morning? Two a.m. and he was unlocking the door, bone-tired, and angrier than he could ever remember being.

They entered the loft, just as he had left it the last time he'd cleaned. It was quiet, without Grayson cooing in his crib; the radio wasn't on; and there was no scent of home-cooked meals wafting from the oven.

Exhausted, hungry, Matt made himself a sandwich. The hits keep on coming, he thought, noting that he needed to go grocery-shopping, the refrigerator bare; that was another hundred dollars from his next payday already gone. He needed to buy Grayson a new car-seat: He didn't care if they had to cancel their TV and internet for six months to pay for a second-hand car and a car-seat, if necessary, they'd be going back to his college food-budget, 25¢ instant-ramen for dinner and oatmeal cooked with water for breakfast, black coffee and tap-water.

He'd worked hard to get here, to be in this loft, which he owned, which he had furnished, and maintained, this home he was so proud of. He always made his mortgage repayments; the kitchen pantry was usually full…this was his home.

And he was so damn glad he had listened to Giulia's advice, and not put Elena on the mortgage, or on the title to the loft. This was his loft; his home, and his retirement. It couldn't be taken away, unless he defaulted on the mortgage repayments. He'd be damned if he lost it because of Elena's collision tonight - he wasn't selling his home, Grayson's home, to pay off her debt.

Mrs Lockwood had given him the contact information for a lawyer; it was the first question Matt was going to ask.

Because it was about damn time he thought of himself first. Him, and Grayson.

Elena gazed at him through her eyelashes, her eyes smudged with shadows, bloodshot. There was tape on her forehead from a cut, there were a couple of small abrasions and bruising, but she looked fine. Hoarsely, she asked, "Why are you mad at me?"

"Why am I -?" He forgot to take a breath; he forgot to count to five. "Why am I mad at you? Because you ran off without telling anybody, stole the car, and totalled it - because you almost killed a family? Maybe I'm mad because you care more about Stefan Salvatore coming back to town than you do about looking after your own son. Maybe I'm mad because I'm trying to figure out how the hell I'm gonna finance a new car, when the insurance company isn't going to cover you because you caused the accident; because when that family sues you, I have no idea how I'm gonna be able to afford it." Elena blanched, not expecting his outburst in the slightest.

He had been holding it all in for four months. The floodgates had been compromised when he saw those two ambulances race off for the ER and life-saving surgery - people Elena had put there.

"You know, it was a teenager driving? Sixteen years old. Her dad was the one in the passenger seat, the one you hit; yeah, Meredith says he flat-lined on the operating-table while they were putting him back together. You lost your parents in an accident; and you almost tore another family apart, the same way yours was. If the dad doesn't make it, I guess we just gotta hope the daughter doesn't turn out to be a spoiled selfish bitch like you, huh?" He didn't realise he was shouting; but it felt good. And he was pissed, and the wounded look on her face only made him angrier. Because, damn it, he was entitled to be pissed off at her, pissed off that his wife had disappeared, pissed off that he missed her, even though she was still here.

"Maybe I'm mad that I have to be at work in three hours, and I can't afford to take the day off because, hey, I have to pay for a new car, and a car-seat for Grayson because the expensive one you wanted was wrecked the minute it was in a collision," Matt fumed. "Maybe I'm mad because now I have to ask to borrow Rose's car until I can figure out how to pay for a new one, and how the hell I'm going to pay to insure you on it after this. Maybe I'm mad because I'm wondering when the Sheriff's Deputies are gonna show up to take your statement - and level charges against you. I'm wondering how long it's gonna take for the mom to contact a lawyer and sue you for almost killing her entire family. Oh, and good luck claiming postpartum depression as a medical defence when they do sue you; since you refuse to go to a doctor, you've never been officially diagnosed, and you're not on any medication."

Tears were streaming down Elena's face; they only made him angrier. "It was an accident."

"You knew exactly what you were doing!" Matt shouted. "You got behind the wheel, upset; and you ran a red light at a busy intersection, Elena. It wasn't an accident. You were selfish and thoughtless, and I am done cleaning up after you. If you don't want to contribute, if you don't want to take care of Grayson, if you're more interested in running after some teenage vampire who used to love you, a decade ago, you go ahead and do that. I deserve way better than how you've been treating me: And you broke your promise to Grayson…" He simmered down, tears burning his eyes, and he glared at her. He calmed down enough to tell her, quietly, and cuttingly, "I thought I was winning the lottery with you, Elena…now, when I look at you…I see my mom."

Her horrified, insulted expression told him that his comment had hit the mark: She remembered his train-wreck of a mother. Her mom's best-friend, a party-girl, and as sloppy and uncaring a mother as Elena had turned out to be. As selfish, and as disinterested.

He angrily pushed the tears out of his eyes, telling Elena, "Grayson and I both deserve better. I can't afford to keep coddling you. Get some help, or get out. Because I'm tired of history repeating itself. I won't let Grayson grow up with a mom like mine."

Fuming, he stormed to the bedroom, leaving Elena with whiplash: But he still remembered to tuck her prescription pain-meds inside his pillow before he climbed into bed.

Just in case.


A.N.: Because Elena turning into his mom is probably Matt's worst nightmare, let's be honest. And I wanted to put in that little scene with Giulia and Willem to show the difference between Liam and the rest of his family when it comes to how they react to Klaus: They're enjoying inflicting pain and channelling all their rage in punishing him, and Willem's like, Yeah, you have no chill, I'm out until you can behave like adults.