Mystic Falls wasn't burning. Not yet.
Elena expected to see dark billows of smoke on the horizon, a yellow glow painting the sky. At a minimum, she expected blood running in the streets, the wail of the damned and dying in the air as Klaus expressed his displeasure with her choices. But when they crested the hill and gazed down at Mystic Falls nestled in the valley below, it seemed so desperately normal. Just a tiny Southern town with its graceful square and antebellum relics, its inhabitants tucked into warm beds dreaming the dawn away. Quiet. Peaceful.
Yeah, right.
They'd made the trip back to Mystic Falls in record time, shattering speed limits and compelling police officers at every turn. After a few frantic phone calls warning the gang back in Mystic Falls of Klaus' wrath, most of the drive was made in silence. Every few hundred miles, one of the three would stir. "Maybe we could...," they started, but the ideas died before they were even given voice. What plan could save them now? Rose and Katherine had run for five hundred years from Klaus' wrath, lived desultory lives full of terror and loneliness. But running wasn't an option for them, and for once no one suggested it. If they ran, Klaus' vengeance on those left behind would be horrific. Even if they'd been willing to sacrifice everyone they loved, it would only be a temporary solution. Timbuktu, Tahiti, the surface of the moon, there was no place remote enough to save them. They all knew the score.
Holing up at Matt's place hadn't been her first choice. Hell, she hadn't even been sure he'd invite them in after the way they'd left things. But Matt's inherent decency had won out over his anger and he'd ushered them all into the small house, hurriedly picking up a few articles of dirty clothes scattered around the dark living room, dumping TV dinner trays into the trash. Elena didn't want to involve him, but their options for human-owned dwellings that Klaus didn't have an invite to were limited. Even her own house was no longer safe. She'd have to remind Jeremy to transfer the deed when he turned eighteen.
Elena peered out the front window into the darkened streets. He wasn't here yet. Why wasn't Klaus here yet? He should be on the doorstep, slavering and raging and threatening to destroy anyone she'd ever made eye contact with. Yet he wasn't.
"Too quiet," Damon said from behind her. His shoulders were slumped, bowed by some unseen weight. "Talked to Ric. Stefan pummeled him until his dark side popped out, apparently, and he found the stake. Handed it over to Klaus yesterday, before all this went down. I assume he burned it. It's gone." Then there was no way. Even if they found out they weren't descended from Klaus, even if they were willing to sacrifice every other vampire on the planet to save their own skins, it was over. Klaus would live forever, and they were doomed.
But Damon would never say die. "I was thinking, maybe we could call Katherine, get her to play decoy—take off somewhere, see if he'd follow her," he said.
A mourning dove called from the azalea bush outside the door, its gentle cooing too loud in the silent dawn. "Even if she would do it—and let's face it, she wouldn't—what happens after he figures it out? We're right back where we started."
"It would buy us time, dammit. Rose is still trying to find Mary, and once she does-" Elena pressed her fingers to his lips, smothering the words.
"And once she does, we have no way of killing him, even if he isn't our ancestor. It doesn't matter anymore," she said, letting her fingers wander from his lips, memorizing the feel of his skin. Maybe she should just give herself over to Klaus, let him torture her for a decade or two, flay the skin from her body and crush her bones to dust. Maybe if she went quietly, let him take all his rage out on her, he'd spare those she loved. Maybe.
Damon seized her wrist, but didn't pull her hand away. "Then what's your plan? We just sit here and wait for Klaus to burn this place down around our ears? We might as well fucking stake ourselves and save him the trouble."
Elena wasn't sure there was a plan this time, wasn't sure there was a way out of her own stupid, selfish actions. In a fit of pique, she'd killed them all. If only they still had the stake, there might still be hope. If only Klaus was a normal vampire, there might be—wait. He might not be a normal vampire, but he was still a vampire.
"When Katherine found Mikael, he was unconscious, wasn't he? Chained up in a coffin and desiccated?" she asked, not quite daring to believe there was hope. It was still a long shot, but it was a shot.
"Yeah, took her forever to figure out that he only drank vampire blood, which still creeps me out, by the way. But what does that have to do with anything?" Damon asked, releasing her wrist.
"No matter how strong Klaus is, he has to drink human blood or he'll dry out, just like any other vampire. If we can incapacitate him, lock him up somewhere, let him desiccate—he'd be alive, technically, which means the bloodline would be safe, but he couldn't hurt anyone. He couldn't hurt us," she said. "We'd be free."
Damon shook his head. "There are only about a million contingencies in that. If we can overpower him. If we can lock him up. If-"
Elena silenced him again, this time with a kiss. Releasing him, she gave the tiniest of smiles. The gesture still hurt, but got easier every time she attempted it."Do you trust me?" she asked.
"When it comes to plans? No," Damon said with his own smirk. "Your track record blows, babe." He nuzzled into the small space between her neck and ear. "But I'm shit out of plans myself, and I refuse to just roll over and die."
"We may still die," Elena said. She was a realist. They weren't as strong as Klaus was, weren't as fast and had far more weaknesses than he did. They lacked magical backup. But they had something he didn't, something he would never have: they had someone to fight for. They had each other, and Klaus could never compete with that.
"Oh, probably. But this way will be a lot more fun. Let's give this motherfucker a taste of his own medicine." He gave a cruel, cold smile. "It's his turn to try a coffin on for size."
The painting was a mass of black, paint caked on as if with a trowel. Klaus added hints of color with the utmost delicacy—a flash of crimson, an edge of cobalt blue. A bottle of red wine with a peeling label sat near at hand, a few empty bottles littering the floor at his feet. Elena stepped over two brunettes collapsed together in a heap of limbs, their throats chewed into lumps of ground meat.
"You're very stupid to come here," Klaus said, still dabbing whispers of paint onto the canvas.
"Got tired of waiting to die," she said, doing her best to channel her inner Damon. She tried to sound cocksure and confident, but the words came off as peevish and tired. God, she was tired. "Thought I'd cut to the chase."
"How thoughtful of you." Klaus lay his brush down, retreating a few steps to regard the painting with a critical eye, still not giving Elena so much as a sideways glance. "Tell me, little doppelganger, how did it happen? Did your Salvatore finally realize he'd wanted Katerina after all, that only undead cunt would do? Is that why he turned you?" He stepped back to the painting, adding a feathery jot of emerald green to the writhing blackness.
Elena didn't even wince at his casual obscenity. What was the point? "No. Did it to myself. Got tired of everyone always asking to borrow a cup of blood. Being the doppelganger kinda sucked; this is much better."
He chuckled, a revolting sound. "I'm so glad you've enjoyed yourself. You'll want those memories to hold on to for the next hundred years or so." Faster than thought, he had his fingers twined through her hair, forcing her head back, her body arching toward him. He pawed at her breast through her shirt, fingers clamping around her nipple with incredible force, as if he might twist the damn thing clean off. She cried out, fumbling in her pocket. This wasn't going according to plan. Fuckfuckfuck. "Oh, yes. You and I shall have such fun. Perhaps now I can convince Caroline to join us, what do you think?"
The syringe of vervain freed from her pocket, Elena stabbed upward with all her might, aiming that needle straight at his heart. Of course she wasn't fast enough; she'd never expected to be. When he sent her sprawling across the room with a negligent backhand, it was all according to plan, even as painful stars shot across her vision and her jaw throbbed.
"Still a bit of fight left in you, eh? Good. I like it when they fight. It'll make it even more delicious when I get my hands on your beau. Kol had some ideas for him, he did." Klaus took his time oozing back over to her, and Elena didn't need to feign terror. There was only madness left in him, only the insanity of a man who knew he was doomed to walk the centuries alone, a freak, an abomination in the eyes of God and man. If this failed, if he caught her-
Luckily, Elena didn't even need to finish the thought. The wooden bullet shattered the window before it decimated Klaus' kneecap. The hybrid fell to his knees with a grunt of pain. Elena scrambled to her feet, trying to follow phase two of the plan—getting the hell out of the way—but even with a useless leg, Klaus was uncannily fast. His hand wrapped around her ankle, sending her crashing back to the ground.
"You gash," he gasped. Elena kicked and fought, but his hand might as well have been a manacle. She cast desperate eyes at the door. Faster, they needed to be faster.
The crack of another bullet rang out, this time burying itself into Klaus's shoulder. Matt stood in the door, shucking the casing from his rifle and barreling another round. "Let her go!" Jeremy watched his back, crossbow trained on Klaus.
Klaus did as Matt asked, releasing her with a laugh. Elena wasted no time scrambling to her feet and away from him. She could already hear the bones popping his knee, see the bullet beginning to work its way free, rejected by his flesh. "As you like. Go ahead, run. I'll give you a head start—only seems sporting. But you cannot kill me. I will find you."
"Never intended to kill you," Damon said, appearing behind the two humans. A heavy coil of steel chain was looped over his shoulder. "That's way too hard for us and way too easy for you."
Klaus' eyes bulged at the sight. "Those cannot hold me—you cannot hold me. You don't know what you're-" He collapsed, a bullet lodged in his temple. All eyes turned to Matt. The boy shrugged sheepishly.
"I didn't feel like hearing another Darth Vader speech, okay? Let's just do this," he said, ejecting the cartridge and aiming at Klaus again, as if he might wake up at any moment. Which he very well could.
Elena picked up the fallen syringe, plunging its contents directly into Klaus' heart. Like the bullet, it wouldn't keep him down for long, but it would slow his healing. She hoped.
Damon was at her side with the chains. "You okay?" he asked, sparing her a worried glance, though most of his attention was focused on looping the chains around Klaus' prone body. Time was of the essence.
"I will be as soon as we've got him sealed in the tomb," she said. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it was all they had. Once he was weak, they could consider a more permanent home. But in the short term, it would do.
"That was neatly done," Esther said. Elena's heart sank. What an idiot. She'd actually believed it might be that easy, that this might be the end of a year of horror and running and fear. That for once, they might all be safe, they might all escape from this. But of course it wasn't so easy. Esther appeared from an interior room of the house. "Do you really believe that tomb will hold Niklaus?"
The witch prowled toward them, eyes fixed Klaus, his body half-mummified with chains. Damon, quick as a shadow, interposed himself between Esther and Elena. "Hey, sister, aren't we on the same side in this? You want Klaus gone, we want Klaus gone. Everyone's a winner here," he said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture.
"Indeed I do. I very much like the idea of knowing exactly where my son is. But we both know he will escape when he awakes if you follow your plan. I can help you," she said. "The tomb is a place of great power, and I can call upon my sisters for assistance. We can ensure he will never see the light of day again."
"What's the catch?" Elena asked. There was always a catch, especially when witches were involved.
Esther smiled. "I shall require a small bit of your blood, Elena."
"No," Damon said automatically. "Not this bullshit again."
"What good is my blood to you?" Elena asked in confusion. "You were here—you heard. I'm a vampire, I'm not the doppelganger anymore."
"Perhaps not, but your blood is no less potent, merely altered in form. It is a magic of death instead of life." Esther paused at the table crowded with Klaus' pigments. She seized a cup, tossing the brushes it held aside. "A few drops of your blood and it is finished; Niklaus will never trouble you again. You will be free to do as you wish. You all will be." She extended the cup to Elena. "You have my word, this will be the last time I ask for your blood."
Elena hesitated. It seemed so easy, so tempting to just give her blood over one last time, let Esther seal Klaus away and never hear the word "doppelganger" ever again, to live the life she wanted, the life she'd fought for. "Death magic?" she asked. "What does that mean? What will you do with it?"
"That is not your concern. The spell does not involve you, merely your blood." Esther held the cup out again. "Do we have an accord?"
The stakes were gone; the bloodlines were safe. If Klaus was gone—really gone—for once, Elena might know what it felt like to awaken every morning and feel safe. She might know what it meant not to be a supernatural creature only valuable for what flowed through her veins, but just to be a woman who loved a man, a sister who loved her brother, a girl who loved her friends. She might go a month, a year, a lifetime without losing anyone else she loved. In that moment, the future was so clear and so perfect. She brought her wrist to her mouth, fangs springing free.
"We can't just take her word for it, Elena—this isn't the first time she's double crossed us," Damon said, hand on her elbow. "We'll just throw him in the tomb and then when he's weak, we'll get a fucking cement mixer and dump him at the bottom of the quarry. We don't need her."
"And what happens when Rebekah finds what has become of her brother? Or Elijah? Do you believe you can keep them out forever?" Esther said. "I can."
"Let me do this," Elena pleaded. "We can end this now. We can stop running—we can just live." Tears filled her eyes. Couldn't he see how close they were? In a moment, their greatest enemy would be beyond hurting them ever again. Esther had sworn her magic wouldn't concern them—let her do with it what she would. They could have a life. "This is the day you told me about, Damon. This is the day when we don't have to fight anymore. Please."
His face softened. "I hope you know what you're doing, Gilbert. I hope you're right." He released her.
Fangs bit into her wrist and the thick blood dripped into Esther's cup. The older woman smiled. "It is done. I will hold my end of the bargain. Bring him." Without a backward glance at her son, she strode to the door.
The two vampires and two humans stared at each other in stunned amazement. "That's it?" Jeremy asked. "After all this, that's how Klaus goes down?"
Elena looked at the unconscious Original cocooned in chains. In slumber,he looked so harmless, just another man. Pathetic, weak, sad. Damon seized the larger man and yanked him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. "It had fucking better be," he said.
Hope kindled inside her, a tiny and quavering flame. Let it be finished, she prayed as the strange procession made their way to the tomb.