A/N: Hello beautiful people! I am sooooo sorry for making you wait this long. But I have finished "Second Chances" and am now fully focussed on this story, so here it is - a new chapter. Thank you all for being so patient and supportive! You are the best and I am eternally grateful.
The sixteenth chapter, in which trust and beliefs must be put into question
Elena felt her knees hit the floor, felt blackness encroach upon her. But no! She would not allow herself to succumb to her sense of helplessness this time. She refused to crumble in the face of tragedy. Fate could throw her whatever it wanted, she could take it, she had taken it all her life. She would not be shocked into impotence while her children were in danger. She lifted her head and stared at the agent and her husband, seeing them as if far removed, as if through a veil.
"What happened?" she asked, her voice foreign and surprisingly loud to her own ears.
"Miss Forbes and Agent Roberts are in the hospital. So far, what we've been able to determine, is that they have been drugged and rendered unconscious. We hope they will be able to tell us more when they wake up. Unfortunately, we have no knowledge of your children's whereabouts."
Elena felt a stab inside her chest at the last words. She looked towards Mason. He had to take action. He had to do something. She had stayed with him because he had once promised to never let anything happen to her. This was the first real test of that promise.
Mason looked as helpless as she felt. His eyes shot from hers to the agent's, looking for an answer neither would be able to give him.
"What measures have been taken to find them?" he finally asked.
"The police have been informed," the agent began. "They have put out an APB and are positioning units at the airport, the train station and the bus terminal."
Elena felt her heart sink. It sounded like a lot of action, a lot of buzz, but in her heart she knew it would be ineffective. They could be taken by car, they could be held in a basement, they could easily be drugged and kept quiet. What would police units at the airport do? They should have kept them safe in the first place. They should have made it impossible for them to be taken. She felt bile rise up inside her. She was certain that it was no coincidence that this had happened today. She was certain that the kidnappers had capitalized upon the turmoil in their protection team. She was certain that Damon would have never let anything happen to her children. He would have protected them. They would still be safe.
"This is your fault," she pressed out, getting up slowly while shooting a death glare at her husband, unable to hide her fury.
"What?" he asked, his face set in an expression of utter consternation.
"You did this!" she yelled, growing more enraged by the second. "Damon would have protected them! They are gone because you sent him away!"
Mason shook his head in quiet anger. "Stop it, Elena," he ordered, his jaw ticking in irritation. "You're in shock. You're not thinking straight."
"How dare you!" She spat out. "You know that he would have protected them!"
"For all I know, he was the one who took them!" Mason shouted back, no longer able to control his temper.
"He would never do that," Elena replied, too stunned by her husband's allegations to speak in more than a whisper.
"Maybe he played you, Elena!" Mason continued. "Maybe this was his plan all along! Don't you think it's a strange coincidence that the threats started right after he started working for us? Don't you think it's a strange coincidence that this happened today? Open your eyes, Elena! This is what happens when you blindly whore yourself out to the first guy who will have you."
Elena flinched at the harsh words. She couldn't believe Mason would have an outburst like this, heedless of all propriety and discretion – Mason, who cared about nothing as much as about appearances. The shock stunned her into sobriety.
"You can think of me what you want," she stated calmly. "You can be angry with me, you can be disgusted by me, but you know he would never hurt the kids. You can hate it, but you can't deny it."
Mason stared at her quietly for a few moments before turning back to the agent. "I want you to send a unit to question Mr. Salvatore," he stated calmly. "I also want constant updates on any information you get about the whereabouts of my children and any developments regarding Agent Roberts and Miss Forbes." The agent nodded. "What are the next steps?" he then asked.
"We want to take you to a new location," the agent responded.
"Why?" Elena asked. "What if the kidnappers try to contact us here?"
"We will position an agent here. But we have to assume that the kidnappers know your location and your routine. We also have to assume that they have access to inside information. Therefore we want to limit the number of people involved in your protection to an essential, trustworthy core. That won't be possible in this location."
"Where will you take us?" Mason asked, ignoring his wife.
"Well…" the agent's eyes shot towards Elena as if unsure if he could speak freely in front of her. "The person you asked us to evaluate has been vetted and approved. We could move you to their house today."
"What?" Elena asked surprised. Mason didn't reply but seemed to ponder the option for a second. "Who did you have vetted?" Elena asked again, staring at Mason challengingly.
He looked at her for a moment, gauging the situation carefully, before finally speaking. "Elijah Mikaelson," he answered matter-of-factly, before returning his attention back to the agent. "Yes, prepare the move," he confirmed.
"Elijah Mikaelson?" Elena questioned perplexed.
"Yes. Pack your bags," her husband replied plainly, before moving back into the suite to do the same.
Elena followed him hurriedly. "What are you talking about? I'm not moving into Elijah Mikaelson's house," she stated.
"Yes, you are," Mason replied drily. "You have forfeited your right to be involved in the decision-making process."
"But…" Elena was grappling to understand what was happening. "But we don't know him," she continued, still flabbergasted. "Why would we move in with a stranger?"
"He's not a stranger," Mason returned bluntly. "He's a business partner and a friend."
"A friend?" Elena gasped. "We met him once at a Christmas Party. You are constantly complaining about his family. How can you trust him?"
Mason turned around with heat in his eyes. "I trust him more than I trust you, right now," he stated, before turning back around to resume packing.
Elena was sitting in a stranger's library, on a stranger's couch, surrounded by a stranger's books. In her hand was a stranger's porcelain cup filled with tea that she couldn't bring herself to drink. Caroline and Agent Roberts had woken up and were being questioned, so Elena and Mason were sitting here, waiting by the phone for a call from either the police or the kidnappers – for information or demands.
A security agent was standing by the far wall, an earpiece, only visible to those who knew it was there, in his ear, his eyes incessantly scanning the room, a look of perpetual determination on his face. Outside the window, she saw men clad in black pass by from time to time, holding equally as black semi-automatic guns. Elena could barely breathe. She was too occupied with being nervous and waiting.
Mason had stopped pacing a few minutes ago and was now dejectedly lounging in the armchair farthest away from her seat on the couch. It was situated by the fire place, part of a set of two that were halfway facing the flames and halfway each other. He sat there, staring at the sparks in the hearth, nursing a tumbler he had inexplicably known where to find and filled with an amber liquid.
Elena looked at the back of his head. Even though only a few feet separated them, she felt like they were miles apart. Even though she was surrounded by people, she had never felt more alone. She longed for Damon, longed for his arms to protectively shield her from these horrors, and for his support – the inexplicable way in which his strength always made her feel stronger, too.
Her cellphone rang.
Elena jumped and stared at the little black device that was lighting up merrily on the coffee table in front of her. Only a second later the machine the police had brought with them started ringing as well, picking up the call that was automatically being transferred to it from Elena's phone. It was a monstrosity, a phone that was also a recording device and that allowed the police to track any call made to one of the connected phones.
Mason shot up from his seat and stormed over towards the table, while at the exact same moment the door to the adjoining room burst open and three policemen burst into the library.
"Answer it," one of them said to Elena while flipping switches on the intimidating device.
With a shaky hand Elena pushed the button that opened the line.
"Hello?" she asked into the silence.
"Mrs. Lockwood," a technologically distorted voice greeted in a jovial tone. "How do you do?"
Elena choked up from the kidnapper's callousness. "What do you want?" she pressed out.
"I want to make sure no harm comes to your children," the caller answered. "I do hope you want the same thing."
Elena felt tears spring into her eyes. "Don't you dare hurt my children!" she threatened, one hand gripping furiously into the arm rest.
"Now now," the voice chided, the mechanical tone contradicting the nonchalant words. "I did try to make this all as easy as possible for everyone. But you and your husband didn't play along, now did you?" Elena felt a frisson rush up her spine. "So I would say it is entirely your fault that sweet Jenna and Jeremy are now in harm's way. Wouldn't you agree?"
"You bastard!" Mason shouted from the other side of the table.
"Mr. Lockwood!" The voice exclaimed, sounding almost cheerful. "I'm glad to hear you and your wife are going through these rough times together. Wasn't sure that would be the case."
Elena's heart stopped and her eyes shot up to meet her husband's. This person knew them. Not just of them – not just who they were – they knew that they were having problems. Who could know that? Mason stared at her in return, and she could see that he was wondering the same thing.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice stern, his eyes never leaving Elena's.
The voice on the other end of the line sighed. "That is of so little importance," it stated in a bored drawl. "Don't worry about that now. The real question is this: How can you make me happy?"
"The real question is: Can you run fast enough so the hit-men I've hired to kill you don't catch up with you?" Mason threatened.
"Oh Mason …" the voice began, sounding almost disappointed. "It's really not."
Elena could tell her husband was seething. Carefully she reached out one hand and let it rest on his arm, trying to calm him.
"Tell you what," the kidnapper continued. "I won't even be exigent. Just pay the ten million I've asked for and the little ones will be fine. I will call back with instructions in twenty-four hours. I'm sure you'll manage to get the money by then." With a click the call was disconnected.
Two hours had passed since the call – two hours of frantic telephone calls, of nervous pacing, of hope and despair alternating by the second. The police had advised against paying the ransom and Elena had lost it. She had looked at Mason, almost blind from anger, and sworn to tear out his heart with her bare hands if he still didn't pay. He had looked at her then, for the first time that day without resentment, had put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her, pleadingly, openly, demanding her trust with his eyes. "I will do anything, Elena," he had said and she had believed him. "I swear to you, whatever it takes, whatever he asks, I will do it." He had looked into her eyes until she had nodded her head in acceptance. Only then had he turned around and barked at his assistant to call his accountant. He needed to liquidate his assets and take out a loan against the company.
Questioning Agent Roberts and Miss Forbes hadn't produced any new information. They had been attacked from behind and drugged, just like Elena had a few weeks back, but neither had seen the attacker or heard them speak so any information they could give was vague at best.
Darkness had settled outside and Elena was sitting on the couch again, feeling restless and helpless, wishing there was something she could do. Mason was back in the chair by the fire, his forehead wrinkled, his eyes pressed closed, his thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose. Elena was watching him. For the first time that day she felt sad and hopeless not only for herself but for him, too. A short while ago Vicki had called from Rome to announce their safe arrival, had been shocked by the news and reluctantly offered they return home immediately, but Mason had refused. "They're fine," Vicki had said, wanting to sound encouraging. "I'm sure they're fine. I can feel it." Elena had watched Mason hang up on his sister in law and it was then that she had recognized that it was defeat that pulled down his shoulders. For a long moment he only stared at the phone blankly, emotionlessly.
"Mason?" she had finally asked, shaking him out of his stupor.
His eyes had flicked up to hers, bloodshot and watery. "What if they're not?" he had asked, his voice frail, his face full of doubt, begging her to reassure him.
"We have to believe that they are," Elena had said, begging him to not succumb to his fear, to stay strong with her. She knew she couldn't go through this by herself. "If I stop believing it, I won't be able to go on."
Something had changed in his eyes then. And for the first time in a very long time, he had done exactly what she had needed him to do. He had closed the distance between them and taken her in his arms, holding her close, holding her together, preventing her from shattering into pieces. "As long as you believe, I'll believe," he had whispered before pressing a chaste kiss to the top of her head.
He seemed calmer now, but Elena could see the toll the day has taken on him. He looked wrecked. Yet, there was something different about him. For a long time now, he had begun to feel more and more unfamiliar to her. In the life they had built together, he had begun to stand apart, his body twitching uncomfortably on the mattress next to her and fidgeting restlessly on the sofa in the living room of their hotel suite. His suit jacket and briefcase were perpetually waiting to be picked up next to the door and his presence was feeling more and more like an intrusion. But now, his stiff back seemed to relax slightly. His body sank into the armchair like it was being welcomed home. Elena wondered if the shared trauma would be able to pull them back together – maybe not as lovers – maybe not as a family – but maybe at least as partners.
Slowly she got up and walked over to the second armchair. Carefully she sat down, sinking into the soft leather, watching her husband. Despite his closed eyes and his immobility, she could tell that he wasn't sleeping. His free hand was turning a tumbler absent-mindedly and his forehead was wrinkled, as if he was trying to work out a solution to the mess they were in all by himself. He looked worried and scared. Elena knew how that felt. She was sure that he needed comfort because she was in such dire need of it herself.
Cautiously she reached out her hand and let it run lightly through his hair. She didn't know what she was looking for – some sort of connection – some way to link their separate lives back together and get through this.
His head turned towards her touch instantly, trustingly. His forehead unwrinkled slightly and he let out a small sigh, as if some of the weight he was carrying was lifting off his shoulders.
Hope filled Elena. If only they could get past the resentment, past the anger and the pain, maybe they could help each other through the tragedy they were caught in together.
"Mason?" she asked quietly, wanting to see the same hope in his eyes.
His lids shot open suddenly and he jerked up slightly, staring at her in confusion for a second, before recognition settled upon his features.
Elena pulled back her hand, a new uncertainty suddenly flooding through her. Again, she had no idea where she stood with her husband. While a second ago she had had hope that they might be able to help each other, that she might be able to forgive him and allow him to console her and in return console him, the distant look on his face now made her wonder if she had imagined the short moment of trust only seconds ago.
She was just about to speak when a knock on the library door announced a new presence and when it was opened a second later, Elijah Mikaelson rushed into their lives not only by way of his theoretical presence that she could feel everywhere in his house, but as an actual living person.
He was standing in the door for a moment, absorbing the situation. He was dressed immaculately; the grey suit fitting him perfectly as if it had been sewn directly onto his body. His face betrayed no emotion for a while, before he finally allowed a look of compassion to settle around his eyes.
"Mrs. Lockwood," he began, suddenly turning all of his attention towards her. "It has been too long." With long, purposeful strides he walked up to her and shook her hand.
"Yes," Elena agreed hesitantly. "Thank you for offering to let us stay here."
"Oh, of course," he waved away her gratitude. "It is nothing. I'm glad I can help."
Elena watched him, trying to figure him out. Mason thought of this man as a friend and apparently the sentiment was mutual, yet she couldn't help but feel bewildered by his familiarity.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his attention still fully on her.
"Fine, I…" Elena looked into his eyes, unable to finish her reply. They bore into hers, almost demanding her trust and her honesty. His hand was still holding hers, its warmth inexplicably giving her comfort. "I'm scared," she admitted, her voice suddenly shaky.
He nodded. "Naturally," he agreed, closing his second hand around their connected ones reassuringly. "If there's anything you need, just let me know."
"Thank you," Elena accepted quietly.
"Mason," he then said, letting go of her hand and turning towards her husband. "Could I have a word?" he asked, before instantly stepping back and walking towards the door.
"I'll be right back," Mason muttered before getting up and following their host out into the hall.
Elena watched him leave the room. Something felt off. Mason had looked uneasy and while Mr. Mikaelson had been warm towards her, he had seemed cold towards the person who actually considered him a friend. Already, their behavior had surprised Elena at the ball. But while she had discarded her concerns at the time, the situation had now become too dangerous for Elena to not trust her instincts. Something was wrong and she couldn't pretend it wasn't. She needed to figure out what was going on. In this situation, she was certain that it had to have something to do with her children and she couldn't live with herself without getting to the bottom of it.
"I'm going to the bathroom," she announced to the agent watching her, before walking out of the room and quickly tiptoeing down the hallway in search of her husband. She heard voices down the corridor and when she reached the corner, she saw her husband's back disappear inside a room and heard the heavy door close behind him. She quietly snuck towards it and put her ear against the wood, trying to make out what the muffled voices were saying.
"…horrible idea," she heard one man say that she thought was Elijah Mikaelson.
"Don't worry. Everything will be fine," the other voice, that she definitely identified as Mason's, said.
"What if she finds out?" the other man asked.
"She won't," Mason reassured him. "She doesn't suspect anything."
Elena's heart stopped. She felt a rush of adrenaline pump heat through her body while at the same time her fingers turned ice cold. This could only mean one thing. Her husband and Elijah Michaelson were involved.
Her head was spinning. Why would her husband possibly do this? Sure, he didn't privately have the kind of money the kidnappers had asked for, but Elena couldn't believe that he would put their children in danger for money. There had to be more. There had to be something she was missing.
She looked around but no one else was around. What was she to do? Should she run and get the police? But what would she tell them? She didn't have proof. She hadn't recorded the exchange between the two men and she didn't have any actual information. The police couldn't help her. She was on her own. The only chance she had now was to confront her husband and his co-conspirator. There was nothing they could do to her here and at least that way she would get some answers.
She pressed her ear against the door again, but couldn't make out any more sounds, so she straightened her back, tried to steady her frantic breathing and turned the door knob.