Disclaimer: Anything you recognize doesn't belong to me.
A/N: To my followers: welcome back! To any newcomers: thanks for stopping by! I hope you like this chapter, although it was definitely a struggle to write for some reason. Maybe because there's not a ton of action? I don't know. I'll admit it's a little bit of a transition chapter (no pun intended, hehe), but there is some important information covered here. Hopefully the Delena bits help to make up for it. I'll let you be the judges ;)
Sorry if there are typos—I tried to edit and post this quickly for you guys. The next chapter is where this story starts to deviate more from cannon. I have most of it written, so hopefully it won't take me too long to post it. Okay, enough talk. Enjoy!
And the shadow of the day
Will embrace the world in gray
And the sun will set for you
– Shadow of the Day, Linkin Park
Chapter 2: In the Gray
Even though Elena knew Damon would hardly be in a talking mood, she nevertheless stormed up the stairs of her house, intent on making him listen to what she had to say. After he had fled the scene of his outburst, leaving Stefan and Elena speechless in her living room, she had had to take several minutes to gather her thoughts.
She knew that Damon was lashing out, angry about how the events of the last day had turned out—which was understandable; Elena herself could barely acknowledge her predicament, let alone accept it without breaking down—and was looking for a convenient target to blame. But she couldn't let him make Stefan the scapegoat for what was essentially her choice. It wasn't fair. Not to any of them.
Elena was content to continue on that line of thought until Stefan suggested that she check on Damon while he made a phone call to Caroline.
Oh, she was going to talk to him, all right.
She was going to give him an earful. Instinctively she knew that was the only way to reach him, to snap him out of his volatile, self-indulgent state that had him blaming his brother for something that was beyond anyone's control.
Without quite knowing how she knew, Elena immediately went to her room and crossed the threshold, and there he was. Damon stood by her bureau, facing away from her and clutching one of her framed family photos. Even though she couldn't see it from her position, she recognized the picture by its simple wooden frame. In it, she and Jeremy's smiling faces filled the shot with a childlike innocence that had long since disappeared with the arrival of supernatural beings in Mystic Falls. Elena remembered that particular day so vividly because it was one of the happiest memories she had before her parents died and her world changed forever.
It was during their last family trip to the lake house, after Elena had finally managed to drag Jeremy away from his video games to help her make dinner. He had been extremely reluctant at first—boys will be boys, of course—but in the end, she had managed to get him to abandon his teenage loner tendencies for the night. In a rare moment of shared laughter, their mother had snapped a picture of them together.
Thinking about that particular moment of her life reminded Elena of how drastically different her life used to be. When she had parents, when vampires and witches and werewolves didn't exist, when she wasn't constantly afraid that each moment with a loved one could be her last, when she felt alive, safe, not always on the precipice of death...
When she was human.
Elena had had every intention of scolding Damon, but now, watching him scrutinize that picture, that memory, she felt the fight leave her. She briefly wondered if his musings were anything like her own. If he were mourning the loss of her humanity just as she was.
Though judging by the stiff set of his shoulders, he definitely wasn't over their fight downstairs. She knew the smart thing would be to wait and let the storm die down, but Elena was impatient for some sense of closure. It would probably be the closest she'd get to finding any semblance of peace all day.
"Damon?" she called tentatively, testing the waters, but it felt perfunctory. He had obviously heard her approaching long before now.
Elena couldn't help but notice that it was almost a mirror image of last night, when Stefan had tip-toed around her in the morgue, as if she were so fragile that anything above a soothing volume would have sent her shattering into a million pieces. Strange, now that she was on the other side of a similar exchange.
"If you've come here to extoll more virtues of my dear brother and his do-no-wrong lifestyle," Damon drawled, refusing to face her, "don't bother. I've heard that little speech a million times before, and let me tell you, it doesn't improve with repetition."
Elena was no stranger to Damon's cold attitude when he felt hurt and cornered; she more or less expected it. However, she couldn't help feeling slightly discouraged that he wouldn't even look at her. It stung more than she cared to admit.
Taking a cautious step towards him, she soldiered on with what she came to say.
"Please, Damon, don't blame Stefan for what happened. He did exactly what I asked him to do."
He returned the picture to her bureau, scoffing with derision. "Funny, he tried to sell me the same excuse. Your sales pitch is slightly more appealing, I'll admit, but I'm still not buying."
"Damon…" she tried again.
"No, Elena," he cut her off, whipping around, all traces of humor gone. "Stefan doesn't get a free pass, not this time. I mean, how many near misses does he have to make with your life for you to get it? Or have you already forgotten about the time he was the one threatening to drive you off Wickery Bridge?" Whatever he saw in her expression only encouraged him to deliver one last blow. "Looks like he finally succeeded, if not quite the way he intended."
Elena reeled as if he'd slapped her, and Damon must have realized he'd gone too far because his eyes softened instantly and his shoulders relaxed, the anger ebbing away as he watched the hurt fill her eyes. He took several steps towards her, eyes locked with hers, and she could read the sincerity in them. He wished he could take those final words back.
And as much as they hurt, part of her was grateful that he finally gave up the façade of playing it cool, when she knew his emotions raged underneath the surface just as fierce and untamed as her own. They wouldn't get anywhere if he tried to hide them.
When she said nothing, Damon groaned in frustration. "I know, I know. Tactless, thy name is Damon. You've got enough on your plate without me piling on."
"No, it's…" Elena shook her head, trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she was actually about to defend what he just said. But it wouldn't help to deny the truth. "Look, I get why you're angry. I mean, you're not wrong. Stefan's done some… questionable things. But so have you," she quickly pointed out. "And so have I! But those things are in the past, Damon. We're beyond them."
"Are we? Because it seems to me like we're in the middle of his latest questionable decision," he returned, gesturing up and down her transitioning body.
"Yes, we're past them," she insisted, brooking no room for argument. They would have to agree to disagree on that particular argument. Undeterred, she moved on to her next point, one that she knew would get a reaction from him. "Besides, we both know whose decision you're upset with, and it's not Stefan's. So if you want to be mad at someone, be mad at me."
It worked. "Okay, I'll bite." Damon's tone was stiff, the fire in him rekindling for Round Two. "It was a selfish decision, Elena. You're always so eager to offer yourself up as the sacrificial lamb that you forget the people you leave behind to mourn you."
"I could never forget them!" she protested. "That's why I told Stefan to save Matt first, so that he could have a life! I had already accepted—"
"Accepted what? That you'd die?" he supplied, disdain coating the last word. "When exactly did you have that epiphany, Elena? Because ever since I met you, you've been on a collision course with death every time things got too hard to handle. That's not being selfless. That's giving up."
Her mouth fell open. This was not the way this was supposed to go. "That's not fair. You say that like I wanted to die all those times, but I didn't! It was just the best option—"
"It was never an option!" he interjected.
"—for everyone I love, and that includes you, Damon!"
Elena hadn't realized she was nearly shouting until the silence that followed seemed to echo, the thick tension simmering between them as they both contemplated the significance of her words. Damon looked baffled, to say the least—but why? This wasn't the first time she had made it clear that she cared deeply for him. And yet… she had also made it clear that it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to choose him.
No use opening that box again, Elena chastised herself. The two of them had enough to deal with right now. Since her final outburst, she had felt the prickling sensation of tears threatening to form, but she couldn't figure out at what point she had gotten so worked up. Damon in general just seemed to have that effect on her.
My emotions are going crazy, she remembered, trying to calm down. Time to regain some control.
Taking a deep breath, she reined in her temper until she felt centered once again. "Believe me, I get it," she said softly. "I know that you care about me."
The intensity of Damon's gaze could only be described as unsettling. But not in a bad way. "I do."
"And I care about you. And Stefan. And Matt," she said pointedly. "So I know you understand why I will always put the people I love first." Even though he would surely deny it if pressed, she could see that her argument was working. Which was why she couldn't resist offering him a sly smile, adding, "Can you honestly say you wouldn't have done the same for me?"
"I'm going to plead the fifth on that," he hedged, but the subtle upturn of his lips betrayed him.
"Because you know I'm right."
"You're not wrong," he admitted reluctantly, before he turned serious once again. "You will always choose those around you at your own expense." He came forward until they were barely a foot apart. His eyes bored into hers; she couldn't look away. "But know this: I will always choose you, Elena. Even if that means letting a whole parade of quarterbacks die in your place. I wouldn't think twice about it. I will always choose you," he repeated, and Elena nearly gulped at his confession. "As much as I hate that I upset you, that's one thing I will never apologize for."
Something tugged at her memory, some fleeting sense of déjà vu, but she shoved it aside. Damon's honest declaration left her speechless. She had known for a while how deeply he felt for her… but having him confirm it out loud? The day after she chose his brother? Now that she definitely wasn't expecting, and couldn't help the involuntary shiver that ran down her spine.
How was it that he always had the power to unnerve her?
Damon was still staring at her, willing her to respond, but what in the world could she say to something like that? The last thing she wanted to do was break his heart all over again.
"Guess we're both a little selfish," she joked weakly, eager to break the tension.
His mouth curved in grudging amusement, but the storm still raged behind his piercing blue eyes.
Still uncertain, she latched on to the first thought that came to her. "You know, in a weird way, despite our… disagreement," she began, "it's nice to be reminded that certain things never change. Especially when some things will never be the same," she lamented, her gaze falling to the framed photograph behind him.
It wasn't exactly the best topic change she could have come up with. She couldn't go down this road again, not now. The wound was much too fresh. If she opened those floodgates and started mourning her humanity, she might never stop until her emotions spiraled out of control.
Tearing her eyes away from the picture of Jeremy and human-Elena, she automatically shoved the memory into that little box in her mind that might as well have been labeled 'Things Not to Think About Unless You Want to Break Down Sobbing.' The title needed work, admittedly, but it was her coping mechanism. She didn't know how else to get through the day, let alone eternity, if she ruminated on every little detail of her tragic life.
Elena quickly plastered a smile on her face. She knew it wouldn't fool anyone, least of all Damon, but in an uncharacteristic bout of sympathy, he didn't call her on it. She decided to push her luck.
"Care to make it up to me?" she asked brightly, referencing his earlier pseudo-apology. "Forgive Stefan. He's going to blame himself for what I'm going through and he'll need his big brother on his side."
"He could do with a little self-loathing," he muttered bitterly. Elena knew there was no point in defending Stefan again; she and Damon had clearly reached an impasse on that particular topic. "Then again…" he trailed off, eyes glittering with barely concealed delight, and Elena instinctively knew that they were moving past the heavy portion of their conversation. Thank goodness for that.
"Alright, fine," he finally conceded. "Since you asked, I'll… temper myself." He gave an indifferent shrug. "Broody Stefan isn't nearly as much fun anyway."
Elena shook her head in amused disbelief. Leave it to Damon to find some way of spinning her request into a task of his own choosing, all without conceding one ounce of his pride. She couldn't help but be a little impressed.
That is, until he finished with—
"I can take my antagonism down as low as eighty-five percent."
Elena narrowed her eyes at him. Honestly, what had she expected? He was Damon, after all. She should have known he wouldn't relent, not even for her.
At her reaction, he crossed his arms over his chest and sighed in mock-resignation. "You drive a hard bargain, Gilbert. Alright, sixty percent, but that's my final offer."
Elena rolled her eyes, but couldn't stop the small chuckle that escaped her, the tension of their earlier exchange all but forgotten. "Deal."
It was better than she could have hoped for. She and Damon had made some kind of peace, however tenuous it was, and she had hopefully set the brothers on a path towards mending their damaged relationship.
And as much as Damon had upset her, their exchange had given her the perfect outlet for all the emotions she was desperately trying to keep bottled up. But releasing them hadn't felt out of control; it felt cathartic.
"Thank you, Damon." For the first time since she woke up in the morgue, she let a genuine smile cross her face. She felt transformed from the simple act. "For everything."
Elena knew they had so much more to talk about. But for now, she would accept their truce for what it what—a victory. And with the day she was having, every victory, no matter how small, was a gift. It was one more reason to keep on living.
Without bothering to knock, Jeremy strolled through the front door of the Bennett house, immediately spotting Bonnie in the living room ahead. She was sitting on the floor, eyes closed, with her Grimoire perched on her lap. Dozens upon dozens of lit candles surrounded her and provided the only source of light in the house, leaving a soft glow on her face, which was scrunched together in concentration. Her lips formed words soundlessly.
Good thing her father wasn't home, because if he was… Well, he'd surely have a few choice words for his daughter about her not-so-normal extracurricular activities.
"I got your message," Jeremy announced by way of greeting. "Why did you want to meet here? Don't we need to be in the old house where all those witches died in order for you to channel their power?"
"Change of plans," was the only answer Bonnie gave, her thoughts obviously still engrossed with whatever spell she was weaving.
"So there's still a plan?"
She simply nodded.
Jeremy could understand her need to focus, but still—
Was it him, or was she being deliberately evasive?
"You did convince the spirits to help keep Elena human, didn't you?" Jeremy asked uncertainly. "Isn't that why you called me over?"
Sighing, Bonnie reluctantly opened her eyes as she turned to face him, poorly concealed guilt evident on her face. "Not exactly."
He frowned at her admission. "Well, you at least asked them… right?"
"Jeremy…" she hesitated. "It's not that simple. Witches, they… they hold grudges. They're still angry that I had them bring you back to life, and they're hardly about to help me upset the balance again."
His gut twisted; apparently it was his turn to feel guilty. Bonnie had already done more than her fair share of helping him, at great personal cost… could he really ask her for more?
"But one less vampire in the world—isn't that something they'd be interested in?" he argued.
"Honestly, I think they're more interested in punishing me," she answered glumly. "As much as they hate vampires, whose very existence goes against the laws of nature, the spirits don't want to add to their list of mistakes. Saving Elena…" she paused briefly, "it would require dark magic, Jeremy. They aren't exactly pleased that I've already dabbled in that area—"
"To stop Klaus!" he leapt to her defense. "Shouldn't they be grateful that your desiccation spell helped Alaric kill him for good?"
Jeremy was surprised to see Bonnie flinch a little at that. Then again, he couldn't blame her; there had been a moment, an hour really, when they had both believed a handful of their friends were about to drop dead (and one that actually did) because of one staked Original who they thought created their bloodline. Surely she wasn't feeling guilty for making Klaus vulnerable, for her supposed part in making their friends vulnerable by extension?
"Even still, they're not going to help me," Bonnie reiterated. "They've made it very clear that they think I'm a loose cannon, a rogue witch—that I abuse my powers whenever it's convenient, no matter the consequences." Her eyelids fell shut as she exhaled. "They're right, Jeremy."
Then her eyes flew open. "But I don't regret my choices," she went on with determination, "not if they help my friends. I view every scenario with an open mind, weigh the consequences of all possibilities, and make the best decision for me. Most witches aren't like that, though; they view the world in black and white, in strict absolutes, a fixed right and wrong, always. Objectivity is what helps maintain the balance," she explained. "We're all servants of nature, but I can't seem to let myself set aside my personal feelings like they can. I'm constantly torn between my duties as a witch and my loyalties as a friend. They know this. They know that, in the end, I will always put my family first. They see this as a betrayal of my kind, so…"
She let the thought trail off, her words hanging thickly between them. They certainly gave them both food for thought.
It wasn't until Bonnie said all that stuff out loud that Jeremy truly realized how much she had sacrificed for all of their friends. She had practically cut off all ties to her magical ancestors for the sake of protecting the people she cared about. Did she ever regret it? Did she ever resent it, being at their beck and call? The magical clean-up crew that fixes all of their messes when they come begging for help? She was meant to maintain the balance, serve nature; but here she was, serving them instead, their agenda, going against everything witches stood for. It's a wonder she didn't tell them all to go to hell.
She wouldn't, though. Bonnie wasn't that kind of girl. She may be a witch fueled with an inherent aversion to vampires, but she was a true friend first and foremost. She was kind, dependable, fiercely loyal, incredibly brave… Jeremy sometimes thought she was the best of all of them, Elena included, if he were being completely honest. Bonnie knew who she was and what she believed, and even more impressive, she stuck to those values no matter what. Even if she had to be the one to pay the price.
Seeing Bonnie so focused, so determined in spite of her self-doubt, was inspiring. Jeremy had never been more in awe of her than at this moment—which, when he thought about it, was saying a lot, considering she had done some pretty badass stuff ever since the supernatural had first reared its ugly head in Mystic Falls. Since that day, she had come so far controlling her abilities, although not without some bumps along the way. He still vividly recalled the absolute terror and helplessness he once felt at seeing her small body collapse, nose bleeding profusely, after she had used her magic to excess and drained her energy. He never knew someone with so much power could be so inherently vulnerable.
She sure didn't look vulnerable now.
Bonnie lifted her chin. "I act independently now. In fact, that's why I chose to meet here. Neutral ground. Less chance of being overheard," she offered, automatically lowering her voice. "The spirits won't exactly approve of my plan."
Jeremy mulled that over for a minute. "If they won't help, then how are we going to save Elena?"
"I've come up with an alternative," she told him, which would have relieved him if she didn't suddenly look as uneasy as when their conversation first began. His doubts peaked when she added, "Just… try to keep an open mind, okay?"
Skeptical but curious, Jeremy nodded, urging her to continue.
Bonnie bit her lip, glancing sideways. "Right now, Elena's in transition. Not fully alive, but not fully dead either," she explained slowly, "which should mean her spirit is straddling both realms: the living and the dead. To keep Elena alive… we need to remove her foothold in the other plane."
Jeremy felt his stomach drop. Whatever she was about to say, he instinctively knew he wasn't going to like it. The look she was giving him… She only acted this guilty whenever she was putting her own life in danger. She always anticipated his objection.
Still, he had to ask, "Bonnie, what exactly are you saying?"
Her eyes found his, brown on green, as she finally stood up and made her way over to him. In that moment, she radiated confidence; no traces of her former unease.
Maybe he was wrong. Maybe her plan wouldn't be as risky as the horrible scenarios running through his mind. Maybe she could do this.
He felt relief—
"I'm going to send myself to the Other Side, and bring Elena's spirit back with me."
—And then horror wash over him.
Shocked, Jeremy's response was all over the place: disbelief that this crazy idea was, in fact, her plan all along; confusion at how in the world this was even a possibility; and fear, definitely that—concern for Bonnie's safety was a given. Oddly enough, though, the reaction that ultimately won out happened to be the one of least concern.
Oh man, Jeremy winced inwardly. Damon's gonna have a field day with this one.
"Now that we got all the warm fuzzies out of the way, and you're no longer in imminent danger—a difficult feat, I might add," Damon quipped, earning him a small scowl from the girl opposite him, "there's something I need to do," he finished seriously.
"Are you going to talk to Stefan?" Elena asked, smiling hopefully at him.
Geez, this girl. Might as well put his sanity through the shredder because the allure she had for him was just plain unfair. One little smile from her and he's about ready to rip off his arm, vamp run downstairs, and offer it to his brother as a peace offering. Not that that made any kind of sense, but whatever.
Point is, this girl wasn't even his, but already he felt whipped. And not the horribly needy kind he once felt with Katherine, where he would have done anything for her approval and whatever twisted version of love she professed.
No, with Elena it was like…
Well. He was still pathetic—even Damon had to admit the hold she had on him was capable of making him the biggest fool alive—but he was not needy. He would never be that way again. And he wasn't blind either. He saw who the girl in front of him truly was, he knew that she was not Katherine, that she could never in a million years be that corrupted version of her ancestor.
With Katherine, he had lost himself. But Elena, well… she brought out that side of him that he thought had been destroyed a long time ago. A side that he hadn't known since he was human. He knew he could never actually be that person again—he was a vampire, after all—but Elena had a way of making him want to try. Somehow, she made all the difference.
Damon shook the traitorous thoughts from his head. Okay, seriously, what was it about this girl that had him waxing poetic in a manner that would make even Vampire Barbie proud?
All together now: Pa-the-tic.
But not whipped. He may be tempted to give in to her every desire, yeah, but that sure as hell didn't mean that he'd simply roll over and become her doormat. As previously established, his time as a doppelganger's bitch has been and gone.
No matter how beautiful her smile was.
Shut up.
"The Salvatore ceasefire negotiations will have to wait," Damon told her not without reluctance. "What I need to do now is a bit more urgent."
Puzzled, Elena tilted her head, her full doe eyes wide and yet soft as she considered him. With her right hand, she reached across her face and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her left ear—a gesture she probably didn't even realize she did frequently, but one that Damon had long since recognized as classic Elena code for 'I'm Overthinking Something' or the passive-aggressive 'I'm Mad at You' or the much more likely 'I'm Plotting Something You Won't Approve Of.'
Probably a way to change my mind, he thought.
But she always did have a way of surprising him.
"Okay," she accepted without argument. Weird. "Well, where are you going?"
"A storage facility about a hundred miles out." Damon watched, gratified, as it was her turn to be surprised. "I'm not about to let my friend's body rot with only Original Recipe Klaus for company," he offered by way of explanation. "I'm going to bring Ric home."
"For the third time, Stefan, yes. I'm safe." Even without vampire hearing, Stefan would have easily been able to hear the exasperated sigh from the receiving end of his phone.
The sigh came from none other than Caroline Forbes, but given the sad, hollow tone darkening her voice, she was hardly recognizable. This girl was a far cry from the bubbly optimist who had become one of Stefan's closest companions.
The sudden change was alarming, until she added solemnly, "Alone and heartbroken, but safe."
And then Stefan remembered. How could he have possibly forgotten, even for an instant? Here he was, wallowing in his own guilt and sorrow when Caroline deserved to grieve far more than anyone else. After all, she had suffered the greatest loss last night. Because even though Stefan's own love had died, at least Elena wasn't gone forever. Caroline wasn't so fortunate.
Stefan paused in the act of pacing through the Gilberts' living room, contemplating how he could possibly comfort his friend, but all that came out was the standard 'I'm sorry about Tyler' sentiment, which, as they all knew, was about as helpful as wolfsbane was to a werewolf. The words felt so useless and couldn't convey an ounce of the empathy he felt, but it was all he could offer her. Stefan had seen many, many people die throughout his immortal existence, and it was always the same, an endless cycle: people die, and those left behind to grieve for them in whatever way helped them cope. As Caroline's friend, he would always be there for her, but in the end, she would have to bear the terrible burden of Tyler's absence alone.
Stefan heard her take a shaky breath before answering. "We were supposed to be halfway to Florida by now, but I didn't make it more than a couple miles outside Mystic Falls before I turned around." She paused briefly, and it sounded like she was trying to regain her composure. "I mean, I don't… I don't know what I'm supposed to do now, Stefan."
Before she had a chance to break down completely, Stefan quickly diverted the subject to something—anything—else. Not that it was any less disheartening. "Well, I'd ask you to join us at Elena's house if you weren't on the Council's hit list."
"I'm pretty sure we're all simmering in that pot of hot water," she remarked grimly, thankfully taking the bait.
They were both silent for a beat as they considered her words. It was only a couple nights ago that Alaric had risen reborn as Esther's all-but-invincible creation, hell-bent on eradicating every last vampire on earth. And in addition to hunting down the Original siblings and ending their bloodlines, he had taken a slight detour by revealing the names of every vampire in Mystic Falls to the town Council—a rather unnecessary act if Alaric had simply completed his mission.
But Alaric had died while Elena drowned beneath Wickery Bridge, and the rest of them still had to contend with the fallout of his betrayal: the targets painted on their hearts, and angry Council members gunning to fix them in their crosshairs and finish what Alaric started.
"How is she doing, Stefan?" Caroline inquired suddenly, her soft tone catching Stefan off guard. He didn't have to ask who she was talking about.
"Elena's about as good as can be expected." He paused; Caroline deserved more than a vague answer. "She hasn't completed the transition yet, but she can't delay for much longer. I think we're all still in denial," he confessed.
"Tell me about it. I can't go back home, and I can't just abandon everyone in town, so I'm stuck here in limbo."
"Speaking of which, where is here, exactly?"
"I told you, somewhere safe. The less you know, the better," she said, her tone subtly teasing. Stefan could practically hear her smile and it relieved him immensely. Perhaps distraction was the key, after all. Caroline had always gone above and beyond the call of duty as his "sober sponsor," as she called herself, distracting him from his addiction to human blood whenever the allure proved too much for him to handle on his own. Perhaps now he could return the favor as she went through her own dark period.
"You really think a Council member can torture your location out of me?" Stefan joked back, although deep down he knew that they posed a threat much more serious than his tone implied. "Have you talked to your mom since you left?"
"Once," she told him. "The Council interrogated her to find out where I'm hiding. Tyler's mom, too. And they locked both of them out of their offices after Alaric spilled the beans, so she has no idea what they're planning next. But," she added gravely, "she did figure out what they were up to last night."
"What do you mean? Weren't they the ones that helped Alaric track down Klaus' body?"
"Stefan, it's the Mystic Falls town Council." The duh that followed her pronouncement was implicit. "You're talking about a group that's planned a charity fundraiser every month since God-knows-when, while simultaneously leading an undercover anti-vampire campaign. I think it's safe to say they're accomplished multi-taskers." She sighed again. "My mom said they raided your house last night, which means they know about you and Damon, too. Obviously, they didn't find either one of you, but they did find your hidden stash of vervain."
Stefan let his eyes drift closed and clutched his phone harder against his ear. He knew that he should feel relieved that he and his brother had remained unscathed, but the Council's interference definitely raised a new problem.
"Combined with Alaric's weapons supply, that gives them plenty of ammunition to come after all of us."
"Yeah, well…" she drifted off, her deflated tone matching his. "I won't be surprised if that's their next move, but they've already put your vervain to good use. A word to the wise: don't use the tap water; it's chock-full of the stuff."
Now that part caught him off guard. Taking a moment to digest that piece of news, he switched his phone to his other ear. "There's vervain in the town water supply?"
"Yep," she confirmed, popping the 'p' in frustration. "Found that out the hard way when I tried to rinse my face with Mrs. Gunderson's garden hose. Tears and makeup don't exactly make for a great combination, you know," she tried to joke, but it came out strained. Clearing her throat, she went on, "Not a good way to start the day, in case you're wondering."
Still reeling from this new complication, Stefan sank down onto Elena's living room couch, resting his forearms on his knees. "Sounds like they're trying to turn Mystic Falls into a compulsion-free zone. I hate to admit it, but that's a pretty smart way to protect everybody. Not to mention they're probably hoping we'll leave town altogether without a proper, ah… food supply."
"Maybe so," she agreed, but Stefan sensed her hesitation. "But wouldn't they rather kill us than send us away? And if that's true, I don't think they would have done something that drastic. I mean, if they're trying to pick us off one by one, wouldn't they want to be more… I don't know, stealthy?"
As always, her perceptiveness never failed to amaze him. Caroline was right: Even with their abundant resources and inside knowledge, the Council wouldn't strike unless they were assured of their victory, as they had been last night with Alaric leading them into battle.
But Alaric was gone. So why were they still so persistent?
"Unless…" Stefan trailed off, contemplating.
"Unless…?" she prompted.
Stefan sighed. "Unless they're getting desperate. Think about it. They don't trust the Mayor or the Sheriff, two people they elected to protect this town, and the one person that united them into a vampire-hunting mob and gave them any sense of control was just killed by the very people he was hunting. Their confidence is shaken, they're stuck without a leader to guide them, and they're scared."
"You think this whole vervain fiasco is just some kind of preemptive strike against us? That they're scared that we're going to go after them because we know that they know we're vampires?"
Stefan was surprised he actually followed that train of thought. "I'd say that about sums it up," he agreed. "I mean, fear is a powerful motivator. It can make people do some desperate things in the interest of self-preservation. And from the looks of it, the Council wants to declare war on the vampires in this town," he said, not without a trace of apprehension. "Even though Alaric's gone, they're not done with us yet."
It was an ominous thought, and a thick silence fell between them as they considered the perils ahead if they weren't careful.
Caroline groaned with sudden frustration. "If Alaric had just kept his big mouth shut, we wouldn't be in this mess!"
Stefan couldn't stop his thoughts from drifting to Elena, and even Tyler, as he somberly replied, "A lot of things happened last night that weren't supposed to."
As if on cue, Stefan heard two pairs of footsteps begin to descend the stairs.
Elena and Damon were back.
When Stefan glanced up from his position on the couch, Damon briefly caught his eye before heading out the front door without a word. But the action didn't feel like a snub, and Stefan instinctively knew that whatever Elena had said to him upstairs must have worked at least a little in his favor, not that he deserved it. But he'd take what he could get.
As if reading his thoughts, Elena confirmed his suspicions by mouthing 'He's okay,' earning her a smile from him in thanks. She then followed with 'Who's that?' while gesturing to the phone pressed against his ear.
Addressing both girls at once, he spoke aloud. "Listen, Caroline," he watched Elena light up with recognition and relief, "thanks for the tip, but I've got to go."
He paused, his parting words colored with sincerity he wished he could deliver in person. "Take care of yourself."
Her goodbye was just as warm. "You too, Stefan. I'll see you soon. And tell Elena to hang in there," she added. "She's not in this alone. Us vamps have to stick together."
"You're going to what?" Jeremy exploded.
When Bonnie had originally called to let him know she had a plan, Jeremy had thought that it was a solid one. One that had a more or less guaranteed chance at success. One that wouldn't involve sacrificing one life to save another. Was that too much to ask for?
Apparently, in the backwards, supernatural-infested, death-plagued town of Mystic Falls, yes; it was entirely too much to ask for. Bonnie's plan wasn't just dangerous. It was crazy.
It was suicide.
"You heard what I said." Compared with the harshness of his outburst, her reply almost sounded serene. Resigned.
"Bonnie," he said with forced calm. "You can't just go to the Other Side at will, you'd have to be…"
Jeremy stopped short, comprehension finally dawning. His eyes widened in horror as he silently begged her to deny what he suspected; his heart sank when she bit her lip, holding back her unspoken apology. But underneath her guilt, Jeremy glimpsed something else. Something strong.
Resolve.
"I'd have to be dead."
It was chilling, how matter-of-factly she said that. How casually she stated she was basically going to let herself die with no guarantee of waking up again.
Jeremy knew from experience that once Bonnie was determined to do something, there was no changing her mind.
But that didn't mean he wouldn't try.
"No," he implored. "Bonnie, no!"
"My powers are stronger now, Jeremy," she tried to reason with him. "I can stop my heart the same way I did yours. Witches have free reign on the Other Side, so if I can just reach Elena before I exhaust myself—"
"And if you can't?" he interrupted. "What if you're gone too long and you don't wake up at all?" He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Taking a step closer to her, he lowered his voice so that she'd have to listen carefully. "My sister already died, Bonnie. I'm not losing you, too. And I know Elena would never want you to risk your life for hers."
Jeremy could see that mentioning Elena had the desired effect. Remorse briefly flickered across Bonnie's features before she forced it back again.
"Do you trust me?" she asked abruptly.
His eyebrows narrowed. "What kind of question is that? Of course, I—"
"Then you have nothing to worry about," she smiled, an out-of-place gesture if there ever was one. "I can't explain it, Jeremy. My magic—it's the best it's ever been, and I can just feel it. Trust me. I can do this."
Jeremy wanted to believe her, he really did. It was plain to see that she wasn't fragile little Bonnie Bennett anymore—in truth, he didn't think she was ever that girl—and that the woman standing before him was just beginning to realize her full potential, magic or no. It should have been more than enough to assuage his fears.
And yet, in spite of his high opinion of her, he couldn't help but be skeptical. When it came to saving the people she loved, Bonnie always took too much risk with her own life. Someone had to rein her in before she went too far. This whacked out plan… he just couldn't let her do it. He couldn't lose anyone else.
"Bonnie…"
But she didn't give him the chance to continue, as her next argument pretty much rendered his own completely moot.
"Do you want Elena back or not?"
Short, simple, and to the point.
Did Jeremy want his sister back? Of course. He couldn't think of ever wanting anything this badly. Elena was the only family he had left. He loved her. He refused to even think about the possibility of not having her in his life, exactly the way she was.
Sure, Elena had had her fair share of decisions that seriously made him question her judgment: falling in love with vampires, trusting too easily, putting her life in unnecessary danger; even going so far as to take away Jeremy's choices and memories when she thought she knew best. But in spite of all these mistakes, Jeremy still looked up to his big sister.
She was the one who made him his favorite snack every day after school when they were kids. The one who started the tradition of the Gilbert Water Balloon Melee every summer at their family lake house. The one who took up the reins when their parents died, shouldering more responsibility than anyone their age should have to, while he hid in isolation and gave himself over to drugs. She looked out for him—sometimes, arguably, a little too much—and kept him from falling over the edge when life was spinning out of control. She was one of the few things that made life in this god-forsaken town worth living.
Being a vampire would change that. It would change her. Forever.
And despite the reassurance he had given his sister before, Jeremy would gladly suffer Elena's overprotective tendencies for the rest of his life if he could just prevent that one truth from becoming reality.
But what about Bonnie? Could he let her risk her life for the sake of keeping his sister's humanity intact? Hadn't he already told Bonnie that Elena wouldn't want her best friend jeopardizing her life for hers? Taking those words back now in a moment of weakness would just make him a hypocrite.
He didn't care.
Bonnie said she could do this. The question now was, could Jeremy accept the consequences, whatever they may be, for believing her?
Do you trust me?
Not without hesitation, Jeremy nodded.
Elena anxiously paced in her kitchen, practically wearing a path into the tiled floor as she absorbed every word she had just heard. She had already recounted the details of her exchange with Damon to Stefan, finishing by explaining the errand he was currently on to retrieve Alaric's body. Afterwards, Stefan had wasted no time filling her in on the surprising bit of information Caroline shared with him. As if they needed another complication today, here's one more to add to the mix.
"Do you really think the Council will come after us?"
Leaning against the counter, Stefan gave a noncommittal jerk of his head. "They're already after Caroline. I'm sure they're not taking Damon's duplicity lightly either. And," he added, jaw clenching, "I haven't exactly made living in this town easy as of late."
"And me?" She stopped pacing as she spun around to face him, for once worried about her own safety. "When they find out that I'm—"
"They won't. Hey," he assured her, placing his hands on her shoulders. Their eyes locked. "They're still in the dark about your transition. And we'll keep it that way."
Elena nodded, taking comfort in his words. Whether they proved true or not, only time would tell, but she needed to believe them all the same. Maybe they wouldn't find out about her; maybe they would. Oh, who was she kidding? Her luck, if she ever had any to begin with, ran dry the day she started associating with vampires.
And now she was on her way towards becoming one.
Elena turned around and stepped out of Stefan's hold, raking her fingers through her hair. It was all she could do not to start pacing again.
"God, this is such a mess," she whispered, but knew Stefan heard her anyway. She faced him again. "Our friends are scattered. The Council is out for our blood. Bonnie's looking for some vampire miracle cure that might not even exist." She ticked each point off on her fingers, each more daunting than the last. "And Damon's bringing home yet another dead friend for us to bury."
They were both quiet for a moment, letting it all sink in, until Stefan broke the silence.
"Thank you for what you said to him, by the way. Damon," he clarified. "Whatever it was, I think it helped. He might just forgive me this century."
A smile blossomed on Elena's face, recalling the conversation she had had with him. Despite whatever Damon may say about his brother, there was a bond there that no amount of time or anger could break. There was over a century-and-a-half's worth of evidence backing her claim. Even now, Elena was still in awe of how deep their devotion went, though it had been tested many, many times in the most brutal of ways. So many motives and opportunities to end each other… and yet neither one of them could do it. There was too much love between them, plain and simple.
Elena studied Stefan's expression and wondered: Did he even know? She was all but certain Damon had never said it in so many words.
So she told him. "He loves you, you know. He was just angry, and for some reason it's much easier for him to take it out on you than on me."
"Old habits die hard, I guess." Stefan attempted a smile, but he couldn't mask the pain lying just underneath the surface. The bruises on his face may have faded thanks to supernaturally fast healing, but the fallout of their fight still left its own lingering scar. He was still hurting.
"Stefan, you could have stopped Damon from hitting you," Elena pointed out. It probably wasn't the most important topic to take issue with, but it still bothered her. "Why didn't you?"
He shrugged. "He had a point, you know."
"Stefan…" she began, closing the distance between them once more. "What I asked you to do, saving Matt instead of me… it was too much to ask of anyone. I hate that I put you in that position, and that now you're blaming yourself because of me."
"Because I could have saved you." Regret swam deeply in his green eyes. It tore at her heart. "Because you shouldn't be going through this, Elena. You shouldn't be a vampire."
"If you had saved me first, then Matt would be dead. What do you think I'd be going through, then?"
"You would have been miserable," he allowed, but Elena could tell he wasn't entirely alleviated.
Still, it was progress. A push in the right direction.
Encouraged, Elena went on, "You respected my choice, Stefan. That's all I ever wanted."
"If Bonnie doesn't find a way to stop the transition, then you'll have another choice to make: Feed and complete the transition, or let yourself die."
"Well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Elena froze, her mind catching up to her mouth just a beat too late. "Oh my God. Did I just—did I say 'cross that bridge'?"
There was a second of silence as they both considered the irony, and then, without warning, Elena burst into uncontrollable laughter.
It was already too late to pretend she hadn't said it. She could either laugh it off, or she could break down because of the truth underlying the humor. But Elena wasn't ready for that yet. Shelve the reality for now, hide it away in that box in her mind, and deal with it later. Much later. So she just kept laughing, no matter how horrible it really was.
And it was horrible, really. It was tragic. She had just gone through one of the worst traumas of her life—drowning, for the second time, and actually dying this time—but all she could focus on was the hilarity behind the way her subconscious worked. Why it picked those words. Why she couldn't get past them.
And honestly, what messed up higher power decided that bad bridge karma of all things was the way to tear her down? Why not something semi-normal like a good old fashioned accident? Or alcohol poisoning? It wasn't exactly a stretch, given how Mystic Falls practically served up beer and cocktails to minors like candy. But running off bridges and drowning? It was the most absurd thing she'd ever heard of.
"You're laughing," Stefan observed, obviously concerned for the unstable girl in front of him. "I'm pretty sure you don't actually think that's funny."
It was all she could do to get out a sentence. "But—but I can't—stop—laughing!"
It was true. She could hardly draw breath from the effort. It was strange, though, because Stefan was right: it really wasn't all that humorous. Logically, her Freudian slip was just a poorly executed albeit well-timed pun. A boring cliché no one in their right mind would have given a second thought, let alone have a laughing fit over it.
Which just proved that Elena was seriously close to losing it.
"It's the transition," Stefan gently reminded her. "Your emotions are a bit heightened today. Okay, a lot heightened," he amended as her laughter suddenly doubled in volume. If he was alarmed by her hysterics, he hid it well. Thank goodness for that.
Stefan waited patiently as she let it all out of her system. As the need for air became almost impossible to ignore, her guffaws gradually subsided, leaving only the grim reality behind. There was only so long she could keep up the charade, after all.
Commit, Elena repeated to herself, commit to this absurd idea that anything about this situation was remotely funny, that none of it was real… She didn't want to face the alternative. Because when the laughter stopped, what was she really left with?
And that's when it hit her. Acknowledging her denial was all it took.
Something broke inside of her. The little box that she desperately kept locked—the mental blockade against all the pain, horror, and despair that had been threatening to consume her—it flew open.
Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no.
It was too much, all these feelings. Images—possibilities of the future that awaited her—flooded her mind with all the sensitivity of a slap: of Stefan, watching her become the very thing he hated most about himself; of Damon, loving her yet never truly able to be with her, or his brother by extension, for all eternity; of her parents, Jenna, Alaric, and the rest of her loved ones she wouldn't get to see in death because she remain immortal; of Bonnie, Jeremy, and Matt growing old while she forever remained eighteen; of never having a real family, never having children; of fighting the bloodlust every minute of every day. She'd seen Stefan go through that pain, an endless cycle of fighting his nature and losing himself. Oh God. Would Elena be that way, too?
Not if she didn't complete the transition. There was still that unspoken option. But it wouldn't have to come to that if Bonnie somehow found a way…
And if she didn't? Could Elena willingly choose to become a monster?
It wasn't until she noticed the wetness in her eyes that she realized at some point, her laughter had transformed into sobs. She gave into them; they had been a long time coming. She was done fighting it.
"I can't do this," she cried. "I can't be a vampire, Stefan."
It was the most honest thing she could have said. She wasn't meant to be a vampire. Vampires were predators, preying on the weak, taking what they want without mercy or remorse. Over a year of experience should have told her otherwise, that not all vampires were the same, but she wasn't naïve. They were all filled with a terrible darkness. Some were just better at hiding it than others.
And Elena had already seen more darkness in her short life than she thought possible. How could she escape the nightmare this time when she was the monster starring in it?
She was terrified of losing herself, especially since she had already lost so much. The names and faces of the dead played on a constant loop in her mind, forever a reminder of those that were taken from her much too soon. Her compassion, her hopes and dreams, her humanity—those had been all she had had left. They were the constants that sustained her in a world full of unpredictability and tragedy. Now they were gone, too.
Now, Elena had no clue who or even what she was. She was just a girl torn in two, stuck in the middle, sandwiched between extremes: between right and wrong, sanity and insanity, living and dying, human and vampire. There was no set path for her, no way to tell which direction was up. The vertigo overtook her, and suddenly she felt like she was drowning all over again.
Elena was trapped beneath the bridge once more, gasping for air, struggling to escape, never quite reaching the other side, no matter how much she wanted to cross over—
Next thing she knew, she found herself wrapped in pair of strong arms. Warmth flooded her.
"One way or another, we'll get through this," Stefan promised. "I'll help you."
Thank goodness for Stefan. If there was ever a silver lining for becoming a vampire, it was that she could spend an eternity with the man she loved. She had already chosen him. He just didn't know it. Yet.
"Stefan, listen," she began, still hiccupping from her breakdown. "About why I was on that bridge—"
But she never got to finish, as the sound of someone knocking on her front door cut her off. It sounded impatient.
Elena and Stefan shared a look of confusion.
"Bonnie?" he guessed, hopeful.
Elena shook her head, making her way towards the door. Bonnie had treated the Gilbert house as her second home ever since they were kids. She wouldn't bother knocking.
Without thinking twice about it, Elena turned the knob and flung the door open. She immediately regretted it.
On the other side of the doorframe stood the absolute last person Elena wanted to see.
"Well, well," the newcomer drawled, smirking wide enough to show teeth. "You look awfully good for a dead girl."
Rebekah.
A/N: Yes, I know. The Stefan/Elena scene at the end is very similar to the show version. And bits of the Bonnie/Jeremy scenes. Let's just say that I like how the show did it, I was running low on creative juice, and leave it at that ;) Next chapter will of course see the return of Rebekah, but what is she up to? Hmm... And we'll be seeing more Caroline for sure. Our favorite blonde vampires back in action!
As always, if you have any comments or (constructive) criticism, I'd love to hear your thoughts. I'm new at this, so I'm always looking for ways to improve. Until next time, folks!