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Elena could still remember every detail of the night she had gone off the bridge; she wasn't sure if it was one memory or a mixture of the night of her death and that of her parents, but she remembered. The water had filled her lungs and burned in spite of the icy temperature. Shaking her head and waving frantically for Stefan to save Matt had taken the last of her oxygen. One moment every cell in her body was on fire and the next there was nothing.

She was on fire again.

She had barely yanked her shirt over her head and stepped into the hall when she heard the snap. From the corner of her eye she saw Caroline fall, but her gaze was locked on the woman's extended hand.

Her blood boiled.

Sweat beaded on her brow.

Her knees buckled and gave way.

Somewhere beyond the roar of blood she heard the distant sound of a man's voice; she thought it might have been Kol but the accent she knew so well was distorted.

Fire licked through her veins as her vision blurred, and she knew it was only a matter of moments before fluid filled her lungs and she choked on it. She was about to drown for the third time in her life; on her own blood.

Then it stopped and she was left with a ringing in her ears.

Now able to draw in a gasping breath, she heard the rattle of liquid in her lungs. Everything hurt as she slumped onto her hands and knees, and it felt like an eternity before she was able to lift her head.

Through the fog she saw the faint outline of Qetsiyah as she rose out of a crouch. She saw Kol standing as a shield between her and the witch. As her vision cleared to a blur she saw the darkening bruise on Qetsiyah's jaw.

Qetsiyah gently probed the injury.

"I was going to make your death swift," she rubbed a trickle of blood from her chin, "but now I think I'll draw it out."

She drew her hand up with a violent jerk that sent Kol crashing into the wall. Her eyes narrowed as she curled her fingers into a tight fist.

Had she held the lung capacity Elena would have screamed, but it was all she could do to release a choked sob. She wanted to yell at him: 'why aren't you fighting back', but she knew from recent experience that concentrating was impossible with such a fever coursing through the bloodstream. Rather than yell she took advantage of her sudden reprieve and closed her eyes.

Through the pain and the fire and the twist in her abdomen she searched for the spark of magic buried deep inside of her and pushed.

Her breath burned her lungs. A swift wind whistled through her hair. Glass shattered to her right.

When she opened her eyes it was to see Qetsiyah groaning and attempting to push up onto her knees.

Large hands grasped her arms and hoisted her to her feet. Her head swam as she tried to understand what was happening, as she was lead, stumbling along supported by the arm around her waist.

"Caroline," her voice was a weak rasp to her ears.

"She's a vampire, darling," Kol grunted, "she'll be fine. Where's your purse?"

"My purse?" She clutched her abdomen as a ripple of pain struck. There was a potion in her purse; one Kol said they had created together in case of the unthinkable. Vampire blood no effect on her as the cure, but the potion mimicked its healing properties. The only question was: what had she done with it?

They had returned from the cemetery at Amara's call. She'd held her small bag as her sister told her what had happened. Had she taken it with her to her room? She had left in a small huff after the announcement of her house arrest.

"It's in the study," she groaned. Her eyes fell when she felt something wet; a small dot of blood spread through her pajama shorts.

"Kol?" Her blood ran cold.

He followed her gaze when she stopped walking and cursed. She trembled when he pulled her into his arms. He said nothing and hurried as fast as his weakened state would allow through the halls and down the stairs; his wife panted and tried not to whimper in his arms.

He came to a stop at the study door and thought he might have found an obstacle when he remembered Caroline saying Qetsiyah had sealed the room, but luck was on his side; the door was wrenched inwards. He spared his brothers a passing glance as he rushed between them to gently lay his shaking bride on the sofa.

"What happened?" Amara demanded, dropping to her knees.

"Qetsiyah," Kol murmured. He located Elena's purse and dumped the contents over the floor.

"She's burning up," Elijah pressed his hand to Elena's sweaty brow.

"The baby's heart beat is slow," Amara smoothed the material covering Elena's stomach, as if the soothing motions would increase the child's fluttering heart. Her eyes darted to the crimson staining her shorts.

Kol breathed a small sigh of relief at the news his child still lived and uncorked the vial. Tipping up Elena's chin he let the thin liquid trickle into her mouth and pressed his hand to her lips until she swallowed.

Elena grew still on the couch, passing into the realm of unconscious.

Kol listened to her breathing as it leveled out and knew the fluid was leaving her lungs. He tore his eyes from her when a glass was pressed into his hand. He stared, uncomprehendingly, at the thick red liquid that had once been a staple in his diet.

"You're black and blue," Klaus shifted Hope and pressed the crystal to his little brother's hand, "and there is fluid in your lungs."

Kol downed the blood with a grimace and felt the familiar itch as his body began to heal.

Freya and Rebekah raced into the study a few seconds later when Elena's eyes fluttered open. Freya stopped up short at her baby brother's glare.

"You lifted the seals, but did you restore magic?" He cocked an eyebrow. It had taken him the length of Elena's fall to work it out. Qetsiyah had replicated the Gemini spell; the spell that had kept magic from being used in the field now encompassed the Mikaelson compound, but those limits had never been a problem for his wife.

"There's a magic barrier around the field that keeps the covens from practicing."

"I know." He stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I think there's a fault in the spell," she hummed, leaning back into his chest.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I've never had trouble practicing there," she twisted her neck around to look at him through the corner of her eye.

"Rest assured, agapi mou, that there is no fault in the magic," he chuckled.

"But I…"

He turned her around and pressed a finger to her lips.

"You are quite possibly the most powerful witch to live, definitely the most powerful one I've met. There is no magic in this world that would be strong enough to keep you from practicing." He held the sides of her face and stared into her eyes. "Nothing can keep you from reaching that spark of sunlight inside of you. It burns far too bright, kardiá mou."

As he spoke his hands slid down to her shoulders, fingering the ties that held her dress.

"Are you attempting to seduce me, husband?"

"My intentions do not diminish the truth of my words." He smirked, pulling a tie loose so the fabric slipped free. "Is it working?"

"Keep talking." She reached up, grasping the back of his neck, and smiled.

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