"She didn't have a good reason for most of what she did. Mostly, she went by what seemed right in the moment, and justified it to herself later, and in this way she was no different than anyone else she knew."

~Welcome to Night Vale~

..

She'll need a daylight ring. Obviously, a bright warm creature light Marcella wouldn't be contained to darkness. Damon currently doesn't know any witches who'd willing make a daylight ring for him. But he does know someone who would. Marcella would have of course made friends with a big bad ancient vampire, one who knew lots of witches, and knew they would do his bidding.

While his newly turned princess drowns herself under the spray of his shower Damon makes a call. The old bastard answers after a few rings, making Damon wait for it. If this wasn't such a dire situation Damon would be a lot more aggressive when he's finally answered. Expect helping Marcella have an easy transition comes before petty anger.

"Damon." A hint of mirth mixed into the velvet tones of distinctly European, draw from the other end. No doubt the man he'd met only a few days prior.

"Klaus." He answers back just as curtly. Willing to get the point and hating having to waste time like this. Damon was at least ninety percent certain that the other vampire would not be pleased by the news he was about to deliver.

"Well to what do I owe this pleasure?" The way it's said cues the raven haired male that it's anything but.

"Marcella has been turned." Damon decides that getting to the point is the best possible way to get off of the phone quicker. He didn't want to be talking to the blond bastard that Marcella had decided was her friend any longer than necessary. Que a sharp intake of breath, a curse, and then finally a demand.

"What happened?" It's snarled out with more control than Damon had expected. There was no sound of anything breaking. Which is more than he can say for himself, he might have hurled his glass across the room when she'd told him to bring a blood bag.

"Someone snapped her neck while my blood was in her system. I'm only calling because she'll need a daylight ring and I don't trust the witches at my disposal." Damon paces around his room, eyes snapping up when the shower finally stops.

Marcella is wearing one of his shirts like a dress toweling her hair as she walks. Her eyes no longer hold the red rim around them from crying, half opened as she walks towards him. He's not listening to the ranting blond on the other end, his attention is on her. Slowly drifting towards him halfheartedly until she's standing next to him, pulling the phone from his hand and pressing it to her ear. She finally looks directly at him and that's when he notices the difference.

Green hazel eyes that had been replaced by honey and coffee. She closes them a second later as she opens her mouth to speak to the irritable vampire on the other end.

"Stop yelling at Damon, it's not at all his fault Niklaus. He is not my keeper." Marcella pinches the bridge of her nose as she walks over and plops down on Damon's bed. Phone being held between her cheek and shoulder, she tucks her feet under her.

A weight of blame falls from his shoulders at her spoken words. He'd been holding his breath this whole time thinking she hated him. To hear her say those words relieved him of a heavy burden. One he hadn't been particularly willing to bear.

"If you haven't figured out how to keep the doppelganger alive through the ritual than there isn't a point for you to come all this way yet. I need a daylight ring, not an angry old attack dog. Damon can help me with the basics and figure out how to get an invitation back into my house without raising suspicion. I'll call you tomorrow." She pulled the phone away from her and ended the call tossing it gently to the side before laying backwards in the bed. Casting eyes of honey and coffee to the ceiling.

His eyes.

Glad that she'd called Damon instead of Niklaus. The almost hybrids reaction had been mild over the phone, if he'd been here, if he'd seen her than she could only imagine how much worse it would be. Marcella makes the executive decision not to think to hard on it and goes to sleep.

There was nothing else she could do until she had a daylight ring.

Her ring is delivered by a man she knows is a warlock who serves Niklaus a day later. She doesn't remember what his name is, nor does she ask when he enters the dark bedroom to give it to her. Marcella takes the inauspicious piece of jewelry- a white gold base ivy fleur ring with a round cut blue stone in the middle- and slips it on to the intended finger marvelling at the fact it fits perfectly. Not sure she wanted to know exactly how he'd known that.

The warlock doesn't say anything else after he's delivered her ring. He leaves wordlessly after a nod from Damon and an exclamation of thanks from herself. Once the warlock is gone, the windows opened to let the missed streams of sunlight through does Marcella allow herself to cry again.

Tears of joy at the feel of warm sun on her cheek. Relieved that she can finally leave the confinements of Damon's room. See her mom and sister freely now, not to be limited to the confines of darkness. Marcella worried not about her bloodlust, knowing that by sheer preservation of her will and the possessiveness she felt in her soul for those two meant she could never harm them.

Damon is with her every step of the way, watching her closely after their quick stoll in the sunlight. He drives her home after calling Liz to tell the worried human that he'd found Marcella in the woods early this morning. Apparently the teen had decided to go hiking, managed to get lost and her phone battery had died. A believable lie.

Marcella loved hiking, but was easily distracted, something her mother knew inherently.

It helped that he'd helped her look even more pathetic by wrapping one of her ankles, and tossing a thick gray blanket over her shoulder before they arrive. Let her lean into his side as helped her up to the front porch. Pretending to not notice the slight shudder she gives when she sees the spot where'd she'd been killed.

"Thank god, -" Liz exclaims meeting them halfway accepting the small weight of her daughter. "-let's get you inside." Damon hides the grin on his face. Just enough to be considered an invitation. He can't help the smug feeling as Marcella passes the threshold of her home with no problem.

…

Marcella was determined to not let the turn affect her daily life. She would get back to normal if it killed her. Again..again? She'd knew better than to think about the fact that she was now twice dead. In her determination to resume normality, meant she was still going to Richman that weekend for rehearsal with the small community theater there.

Damon gave her his option on how bad of an idea he thought that was and she had ignored him. Marcella was going to keep living her life as if she wasn't frozen at sixteen for the next forever. Didn't mean that she was just going to stop living. That was dumb.

Bringing Marcella to now, sitting in a small cafe owned by a vampire. If the echo of slow beating hearts was anything to go by. She fiddled with the ring on her index finger while sipping on her coffee. It didn't taste as good as it once had but she hadn't expected it too. Her body didn't have the desire for it anymore, craving something completely different.

She took her next sip out of petulance before resuming her staring out the window. Letting her fingers tap out a faint melody absently. Ignoring the reflection of his eyes in the window, ignoring the whole world around her. Consuming herself in this moment of sitting by herself a town away from home surrounded by strangers.

Her thoughts drift, far away and hard to reach. Marcella pays them no mind, letting them wander, losing herself for the moment. So caught up in her own melancholy that she hardly notices as he approaches. Neatly dressed, a well tailored suit, ancient interested eyes.

He stands before her, hands tucked casually into his pant pockets. Derisive and wry staring down at her. She pays him no mind either, until he clears his throat and demands her attention. Honey and coffee meet deep rich umber and coal. Marcella sucks in a deep breath, she blinks one, then twice to see if maybe her eyes deceive her. If anything it only clears her view.

"Is this seat taken?" His voice reminds her of smooth velvet, soothing and alluring. Marcella refuses to be made for a fool. She turns her nose if in defiance of his supposed politeness. He wasn't really asking for her permission and they both knew it.

"Depends on what you want from me 'Lija." When she finds her voice words are candid. She has no desire to play games with him.

Games were for children and she was well past the point.

Elijah Mikaelson smirks down at the arrogance of this baby vampire. At the presumed notion that she knew him, speaking his pet name as if they were old friends. He pulls out the chair for himself and takes the seat across from her. Telling her without words that what she'd said matter very little to him. The blonde sighs sulkily crosses her arms over her chest. Befitting the child he saw her as.

Until she opened her mouth to speak again.

"I guess it wouldn't have matter anyway, you never take no for an answer." She muses wistfully. Closing her eyes for a moment before opening them again and looking him straight on, a sardonic smirk upon her full lips. He hadn't noticed before.

But now Elijah saw just what he assumed his brother had seen. To entertain such childish company for as long as he had that is. However unlike when she'd met Niklaus for the first time, when he linked her mannerism to his daggered little brother it had only been that. Now everything was much clearer. Elijah hadn't expected to see those eyes staring back at him. He hadn't expected that same expression, the contemptuous and coy look.

Marcella leans back into her chair, arms still crossed. She watches him intently as he processes his thought. Niklaus had told her that she had reminded him of his younger brother the day they first met. So of course she couldn't help but to wonder just what Elijah was proceeding of her now, a vampire with his eyes. Surely he would see.

Surely he would know. Something she'd known for a while, not her whole life, but she'd known. She'd been warned. Even without meeting him, without knowing him in this life, Marcella knew that she was his. Like the possessions she claimed. He'd claimed her, she belonged to him. The change of tones in her eyes were just him making it all the more clear, that while it might have been Damon's blood that turned her.

She was his.

"Impossible." Elijah breathes, the apprehension crawling up his arm at what this could possibly mean. All he could see was his brother.

"Nothing is impossible darlin'." Marcella smiled no differently than she usually would. Her smile was still warm and kind, but in it's depths were a hidden wickedness that hadn't been there before. Daunting with the promise of something maddening.

Something distinctive.

Something daming.

Something….

Kol

XOXOX

You guys! Two chapters in one day! This chapter was actually really fun and surprisingly easy to put to word. I'm really excited about the direction this is going, and I'll admit it wasn't originally going to be like this but it's much better this way. I'm so pumped about what's to come!

Now I know that you are all looking forward to Kol making his actual appearance but it's still a little ways off from here. Klaus' gotta break his curse first and I've got some drama planned with the mystic falls crew-sans Damon and Caroline of course- that has to happen before Kol's big day-view.

Thank you so much for reading! Your continued support is what keeps me going. Love you guys so much!

Sincerely, La'Rae