Elena doesn't hesitate: she wraps her arms around his neck, and her legs around his waste, and she kisses Klaus back.

If their first kiss was a gentle exploration, their second kiss is all fierce passion. And yet – even as Klaus holds Elena up like she's weighs inothing/i at all, even as he buries his fingers in her hair, and touches her all over – there is still something strangely tentative in his touch. As if he's afraid he'll break her.

She realizes Klaus very well might be afraid that he'll break her, if he isn't careful. She wonders if a human has ever had sex with Klaus and survived him. iElena/i isn't going to survive him. (Klaus is a twister, a hurricane, a mudslide: every natural disaster, all rolled in one, and she sees nothing but death and devastation behind him, and before him.)

They keep kissing as Klaus carries her into the bedroom, and lays Elena down on the bed. She buries her fingers in his curls, and gasps against his lips, and is acutely aware of his weight, of his istrength/i – pressing against her.

Holding her idown/i.

And then he's not. Klaus pulls back, looking down at her with searching eyes. Elena knows he can hear her heart racing; she wonders if he can ifeel/i it, thumping against his own chest. She is still caged within his arms, her very own prison, but very little of his weight is resting against her, though they are still touching from chests to knees.

"What's wrong?" Klaus asks her, and Elena realizes that she might not be as good an actress as she'll need to be, to survive this. To survive ihim/i. Her mind races.

Elena takes a deep breath, and gently rolls one of his curls around her index finger, and looks up into his eyes, and reveals a fear: "Will it hurt?" she asks, her voice small and tentative, but her eyes wide open.

Elena can't hide her fear; so she doesn't. She just allows Klaus to think it's about something else. (It's a risky tactic, but it's all she has.)

"I wouldn't hurt you, love," Klaus tells her. "Not like this." Elena doesn't believe him; she's not sure there's any way that he wouldn't hurt her. If she hurts him. Or if she bores him, or even if he just feels like it.

But that isn't the conversation she wants to have.

"Not – not like this," Elena responds. "I mean – on Sunday, when you... drain me. Kill me. Will it hurt?"

Elena pushes away her anxiety when Klaus doesn't answer her question right away – doesn't say anything at all, just continues staring down at her with those piercing eyes. She reaches up, and her thumb presses softly against his bottom lip. He sucks it into his mouth, laving it gently with his tongue. Elena runs her thumb lightly across his incisors, currently no more than blunt human teeth. (She knows that can change without a moment's notice.)

Then she continues: "I know it's my destiny. I said I'd walk willingly to my death, and I will. But… it looks like it hurts." Elena thinks of all the times she's watched Klaus feed: stared into his eyes as he bit down on some unsuspecting person who had no way of knowing that delivering Elena's breakfast meant ibeing/i Klaus's breakfast. "I'm allowed to be a little nervous, aren't I?"

Klaus's face slowly shifts – the veins under his eyes darken to black, and his fangs drop. He catches her thumb with a fang, and it barely stings as it slices her skin open. Elena just watches with wide eyes as Klaus licks her blood.

Eventually, Klaus lets her hand drop from his mouth. "I won't hurt you more than necessary," he promises her.

Elena offers him a smile, but his words aren't as reassuring as he perhaps thinks. (Klaus's idea of necessary, and Elena's idea of necessary, are unlikely to be the same.)

Suddenly, Klaus moves back and off her, shifting to lie down on his back next to her. Elena wonders for a moment if she's misstepped somehow, but then Klaus opens his arms. She goes to him before he can pull her in, resting her head on his shoulder and throwing a leg over his waist. His arms wrap around her.

(Elena doesn't think of Elijah. She doesn't think of how she'd feel so safe, if Elijah were holding her like this. Klaus isn't Elijah.)

"Go to sleep, Elena," Klaus orders her, apparently with no intention of moving.

Elena closes her eyes, and somehow obeys.

The next morning, Klaus doesn't feed on the hotel worker who rolls in her breakfast cart. Elena tries not to read too much into it.

After breakfast, Klaus places a hand on her back as he guides her to the elevator, and then stands so close to her that they touch every time she breathes. Elena takes his arm as he escorts her through the lobby and outside, to a waiting black Range Rover. She is acutely aware of every time they touch, everywhere they touch; his fingers a brand against her skin, somehow visible only to her.

And him, if the satisfied twist of his lips is any indication. (Now that Elena has let him touch her, she's not sure if he will ever stop.)

Klaus opens the passenger door for her, and helps her inside. (She doesn't think of Elijah. She doesn't.) He turns the radio on when he gets into the driver's seat, to a station that plays some old jazz that sounds vaguely familiar. And then they're off.

Back to Mystic Falls.

For most of the drive, Klaus is happy enough to tell her stories – about interesting places he's been, remarkable people he's met, noteworthy things he's seen. Elena listens, and occasionally asks questions, but otherwise doesn't contribute much to the conversation. Klaus doesn't seem to mind, and Elena is thankful for the break.

As they get closer to Mystic Falls, Klaus's tone shifts. He talks about faking the Sun and the Moon Curse, about searching for the moonstone, and Katherine. A common theme: anything that reminds him of the ritual. Elena still listens, but she doesn't ask any questions. Klaus doesn't seem to expect her to.

They pass the "Welcome to Mystic Falls" sign soon enough. Klaus navigates the roads like he knows them; Elena recognizes the route, but surely he wouldn't…

But of course Klaus would – he pulls into the driveway, and helps Elena out, and escorts her to her own front door. It opens as they step onto the front porch, revealing Greta.

Elena knows what Klaus wants before he even looks at her with that expectant gaze. She doesn't make him wait; she invites him in.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Klaus tells her with a smile, stepping over the threshold with clear relish. "How about a tour?"

Elena shows him around, trying to ignore the ghosts that haunt her. Now isn't the time. She doesn't let herself feel anything at all when she realizes that someone already explored upstairs: the doors to all the bedrooms are open. They were all closed, the last time she was here (with iElijah/i, and she pushes the thought away, along with all the memories of spending time with iJeremy, Aunt Jenna, Mom, Dad/i in this house.)

Thankfully, Klaus doesn't try to peek into the other rooms; he is interested only in hers. Elena watches as he looks around curiously, touching anything and everything that catches his attention. Elena doesn't protest as he picks up one of her old diaries. She is only glad that she left her most recent diary, filled with her memories and thoughts and ifeelings/i about Elijah, at Bonnie's house – where Elena's invitation holds no weight.

Klaus smiles as he skims through her diary, before putting it back and turning to her closet, and then her drawers. Elena isn't embarrassed as he opens her underwear drawer: there's no point. He's gifted her enough panties and bras in the past month, as they moved from city to city. In Klaus's eyes, there's no part of Elena that doesn't belong to him.

It isn't true (her mind, her iheart/i), but she would never say so aloud.

"Where's the elixir?" Klaus asks, as he picks up a book from her shelf, flipping through it idly.

Elena isn't surprised by the question. "It isn't here," she tells him. "I couldn't stay here, after Katherine murdered my aunt."

"You went to live with your little witch friend," he says casually, as if he hasn't just turned Elena's blood to ice. Klaus puts the book down, and turns to her. "What is her name, again?"

iHe knows./i

"Bonnie Bennett," Elena answers, because she has no choice. It does her no good, to withhold Bonnie's name. If he already knows it, and Elena withholds it, she'll only anger him. If he doesn't know it, he can find out easily enough.

And there are photos of Bonnie with Elena all over her room. (She tries not to think of Caroline; Elena can't help her, anymore, but Bonnie still has a chance.)

"Not only a witch, but a Bennett witch. You do have interesting friends," Klaus murmurs, reaching forward to oh-so-gently brush Elena's hair from her face. Elena can't help her shiver of fear: not for herself, but for iBonnie/i. (Did she do it again, somehow? Ensnare an Original, convince him to protect her – but not win that same protection for the only person who truly matters?)

Elena isn't entirely surprised that Klaus knows about Bonnie. It could have been through Katherine, or Isobel, or any of a dozen others. Elena is a Gilbert, and Bonnie is a Bennett, and every other person in this small town knows that they are best friends. Elena wishes Klaus didn't know, but she always knew this was a possibility, especially if they spent any amount of time in Mystic Falls.

It's why she took him away from here.

"Bonnie isn't a threat to you," Elena tells him. She tries to stop trembling. (iBonnie/i, her heart beats. iBon-nie, Bon-nie, Bon-nie/i.) "She's only been training for a few months."

She can tell him nothing but the truth. Elena has to assume Klaus knows ieverything/i.

"With Greta's father," Klaus comments. Elena meets his gaze. He doesn't look angry. (She knows that doesn't matter: she remembers the man in Rome, how Klaus compelled him to walk to his death without ever raising his voice.)

"With Dr. Martin," Elena confirms. Klaus hums thoughtfully. Elena tries to organize her scrambling thoughts. She needs to figure out a way to persuade him; she ican't/i have done all of this for nothing. (iElijah/i, her heart calls. If only he had kept his word…)

"Oh, do calm down," Klaus tells her, probably in response to her racing heart. He sounds amused again, as if her fear is entertaining. He probably finds it refreshing; Elena was terrified when she first met him, but she has long become numb to fear for herself. (But fear for Bonnie… Elena will inever/i be numb to fear for Bonnie.) "I wouldn't hurt your witch for no reason," Klaus says, as if she should find it reassuring. But Elena hears the words he doesn't say: that if Bonnie gives him a reason, he'll kill her without hesitation.

"I won't let her give you a reason," Elena replies, trying to sound more confident than she feels. "I'll talk to her; she won't cause you any trouble."

"We'll see," he says. There's nothing friendly about his smile. (And even as Elena reads the silent threat to her best friend in his eyes, his desire for her still smolders.)

Elena's plan to keep Bonnie safe involved keeping her friend far, far away from Klaus. (For this, Elena stabbed herself, and then thrust a dagger into Elijah's heart; she surrendered to Klaus, and tortured Katherine; she lived and traveled with him for an entire month, his eyes following her every move.)

And now, Klaus is in Bonnie's driveway. (Elena is thankful only that Bonnie's car is missing, though that could change at any time. It is a Saturday during summer break: she doesn't keep to any set schedule.)

Elena takes his arm without protest as Klaus escorts her to Bonnie's front door. She says nothing when Klaus rings the doorbell.

Nobody answers the door. (She hopes Mr. Hopkins is away on business again. Elena would keep him safe, for Bonnie. After all, she knows what it is, to lose a parent.) "Nobody is home," Klaus tells her – and then he reaches for the door, and it is off its hinges.

Elena doesn't move. "I can't invite you in," she tells him.

She tries not to show it, but she's desperately afraid that Bonnie might come home any minute. Elena needs to leave; more importantly, she needs to get Klaus away from here. She'll become a vampire, without a protest, if it means that Bonnie is safe.

"But your way has grown on me," Klaus replies, his tone amused. He's playing with her. Elena takes a deep breath, and thinks carefully about her next words. He continues before she can say anything: "Go get it. I'll be waiting."

Without wasting any more time, Elena darts inside, and around the broken door, and straight to Bonnie's room. The box containing the elixir is right where she left it, on Bonnie's bookshelf. Elena puts the box on Bonnie's desk, opening it. The elixir sits there, shining in the light, as if waiting for her.

She pens Bonnie a quick note, begging her not to get involved – telling her that Klaus doesn't want her to stay dead any more than Elijah did. She hopes the letter – along with the box, obviously empty of the elixir – will be enough to dissuade Bonnie.

As Elena turns to go, elixir cradled safely in her hands, her eyes catch on the other box that Elijah gifted her. She wants to open it, to pull away the bubble wrap, and carefully hold the book in her hands. It's Elijah's last gift to her; she wishes she could take it with her. But she can't, and she needs to go before Bonnie gets back, so she leaves the box where it sits.

Untouched.

Then, with one last look around Bonnie's room, Elena returns to her destiny.

Klaus smiles when Elena walks outside, past the safety of the threshold, without hesitating. He kisses her, and Elena kisses him back, right there on Bonnie's front porch – right where she kissed Elijah, and then plunged a dagger into his heart.

Was that only a month ago?

After he pulls back from their kiss, Klaus takes the elixir from her hand, holding it up to the light. The iridescent liquid glimmers. There's something greedy in his eyes when he looks at it. (She's almost surprised, when he hands it back to her.)

When Klaus and Elena get back to her house, Greta isn't alone inside. Dr. Martin is there too. "We won't interfere," he tells Klaus, looking at his daughter with glimmering eyes. Elena wonders what Greta said to him, to convince him. She doesn't ask.

Then, without another word, Dr. Martin nods respectfully at Klaus, and turns to leave. "Wait!" Elena calls, before he goes. "Please. Tell Bonnie – tell her that Klaus is going to let me take the elixir."

Dr. Martin doesn't look surprised; he doesn't look much of anything, except defeated. "We won't interfere," he repeats. Elena wishes for more assurance than that.

She doesn't get it.

That night, her last before she walks to her death, Elena sleeps in her childhood bedroom, Klaus wrapped around her. She doesn't tell him that she can see the spot where Damon murdered Jeremy from the bed; she just buries her face in his shoulder, and does her best to block out the memory.

If Elena dreams, she doesn't remember them, when she wakes up.

And then it's Sunday. iThe/i Sunday. July 25, 2010. The full moon.

The day Elena dies.

But first: Klaus brings her breakfast in bed, and tells her he has a surprise for her downstairs.

There's a coffin, in the middle of her living room. Klaus opens it: Katherine is inside, more than half-desiccated. "I compelled her to keep her eyes shut," Klaus tells her, conspiratorially. Elena remembers her wish: that Katherine relive her worst memories every time she closes her eyes.

Elena's wish, that Klaus made reality.

She smiles, and Klaus seems pleased enough with the both of them. The rest of the day passes in a blur. (For Katherine, too, Elena imagines.)

When the sun sets, Klaus puts Katherine back in her coffin, and leads Elena into the woods. Greta is already there, along with two circles of fire – each with a person inside.

Jules is screaming in the first, her body trying desperately to shift until the full moon but prevented by magic. In the second: Damon, gaunt and filthy. He stares at her, wonder and obsession and accusation filling those too-blue eyes. (Elena wishes he suffered more, before the end.)

Idly, Elena wonders who retrieved Damon from the basement of the Salvatore Boarding House, and how they got around Bonnie's boundary spell. It makes her smile, to think that maybe he's a gift from Bonnie.

As the moon rises higher in the night sky, Maddox joins them, a familiar figure beside him.

Isobel.

Her face is expressionless, her eyes glassy. Elena wonders when Klaus caught and compelled her again; she wonders if Isobel ever actually got away at all. Does anyone ever get away from Klaus? (She thinks of Katherine, running for 500 years, now locked in a little box, and thinks probably not. Death is the only escape…)

Klaus looks at Isobel with a contemplative expression. "I do like the symmetry of three woman – three goddesses – sacrificed at nature's altar," he says. And then he turns to Elena: "But I'll let you choose."

"Damon," Elena replies immediately. Klaus raises an eyebrow, perhaps amused that Elena didn't even have to think about it.

"Not the disappointing mother who betrayed you?" Klaus asks her, tilting his head.

"Elena!" Damon practically hisses, before collecting himself a bit. He turns cajoling eyes on her. "You've had your fun, but you aren't really going to let him kill me, are you? Don't you remember Isobel working with Katherine against you?"

Elena glares at him, but doesn't bother responding. She turns back to Klaus. "Damon," she repeats. "He killed Jeremy."

Klaus shrugs, as if it makes no difference to him. But Damon curses her, and tells her that she's just like Katherine. Elena ignores him; Klaus compels him to be silent.

Suddenly, Maddox falls to the ground. His neck snapped. Dead.

Stefan stands behind him. He charges Klaus, a stake in his hand. Klaus moves too quickly for Elena to see; the next thing she knows, Klaus is holding the stake, and looking into Stefan's eyes. Klaus murmurs something too quietly for Elena to hear as he stares down into Stefan's eyes, clearly compelling him.

Then Klaus drops Stefan, and he falls to the ground. He doesn't move – just stares with wide eyes, a tear trickling down his cheek: at Elena, pressed to Klaus's side, and then at Damon, silent and surrounded by fire.

Thankfully, Stefan is the last interruption. True to Dr. Martin's word, he doesn't interfere. He doesn't even show up. Neither does Luka. Nor – and mostly importantly – Bonnie. Elena's relief almost bowls her over; she leans into Klaus's side, as if she needs his support. He just smiles down at her, anticipation clear in his gaze.

Finally, Greta tells them that the moon has reached its apex. Klaus orders Elena to drink the elixir, and he watches carefully as she does. Only after he is satisfied that she has consumed every last drop does Klaus leave her side. Greta forms a circle of fire around Elena, as well, once Klaus is far enough away.

The ritual begins.

Greta does something with the moonstone, and it turns to flames as she begins to chant. Elena watches as the fire around Jules dies down, and she runs at Klaus – only for him to knock her to the ground, her heart in his hand.

With Jules dead, it is Damon's turn. Instead of attacking Klaus, Damon tries to attack Greta; Klaus intercepts him before he can reach her, plunging the stake that he took from Stefan into Damon's heart. Elena watches in satisfaction as Damon stills, and turns grey: no longer a threat to anyone she loves. (If only she let him die ibefore/i he killed Jeremy…)

And then, it is Elena's turn. As promised, she goes willingly. Klaus offers her his hand, and she takes it, letting him lead her to the stone altar. "Thank you, Elena," Klaus murmurs softly into her ear, before brushing a gentle kiss across her lips. Elena stares into the fire as Klaus moves to stand behind her, brushing her hair away from her neck.

He cradles her tenderly in his strong arms as he presses a slow kiss to her pulse point, and then… she feels the sting of his fangs sinking into her neck, and her heart is pumping her blood right into his mouth.

He's iconsuming/i every part of her: her blood. And her life.

Black spots start to gather at the edges of Elena's vision, and the world spins, and her knees grow weak. She doesn't fall, only because Klaus holds her up, cradling her close. Until finally – it doesn't hurt anymore, not even a little.

And then everything goes black.