She clutched her pillow to her chest as she watched Stefan move around the bedroom. She should be thankful after all. He had volunteered to help clean her room and organize it since she had been occupied as of late. As she watched him sweep the last remains of her depressive episode slobbery, she felt stuck. He was encroaching in her personal space and her mind. She wanted to put space between them, but she couldn't.

In the end, did she really learn to say no? She could for Elena and Damon, but Stefan... She felt a weird force bringing him closer not further. The dreams were evidence of it, and she still did not know exactly what she had done that night. He felt like Stefan but not. Was he more Stefan or Ripper? Stefan wouldn't call Elena the slew of words he had used earlier after she had dropped the truth of why she studied dark magic. The Ripper wouldn't care about her either. Was he stuck between two forces of himself?

She wanted close yet far away. Her heart wanted him here and her mind wanted him gone. He had pushed past her the walls she had set up, but he did not push past her boundaries. She wanted him to know her hurt yet she also cared about how he hurt as well.

Would Grams care if she let him back in? Would she rejoice in Stefan being somewhat back to who he was? Would she want him nowhere near her? Should she even allow her Grams' opinion to sway her one way or the other?

It didn't help when she had admitted the truth about why she was friendly to Elijah and his family. He had taken her confession in stride and only asked what brought her to her conclusion. She had told him a brief version of why she wanted the Other Side gone. The authoritarian nature of the Spirits had to go. He had accepted her answer with no other questions. It irked her as much as it pleased her. She wanted him to question or push back so that she could feel justified in pushing him away. Another part of her wanted him to be this loyal and assured in her so that she could cling closer. She wanted to call that side desperate as much as that side wanted to call her heartless. She didn't want Stefan to become what Elena had been to her, but there was a hole in her that Elena had left and she would be dumb not to acknowledge it.

She flicked between a few pages on her Grams' grimoire. She was skimming between pages until she came to a small section, easily missed if she hadn't skimmed it, that talked about a spell Grams did on Stefan. Her eyes widened as her finger traced the words.

"Stefan," she called to him. Stefan turned away from her somewhat neat stack of books and came over.

"Do you need help?"

"You never told me that you came from a witch line."

"I didn't know until Sheila did the spell."

"Was there a reason why? She said you asked for the spell."

Stefan settled on her bed causing her heart to flutter. "I... had suspected I may have been from a witch line, but nothing ever to prove it. It didn't matter if I did, but eventually I caved and asked Sheila to do the spell."

"A pretty powerful witch line."

Grams had noted that it was odd how Stefan's bloodline was strong with magic, yet he didn't know. Witches turned vampires may not have their magic, but the bloodline was still bound to them. Sheila said she wanted to trace his lineage and see if any names could be linked to his from another blood spell. However, the spell didn't work as if some magical force was stopping her from revealing any names.

Stefan's eyes went to the passage she was staring at. "Doesn't matter. I am still a vampire." Stefan leaned back. "That was often Klaus' dilemma."

"Klaus?"

"He was envious of witches. His family was witches before they became vampires. Of course, no one but their mother was a practicing witch because of their father's fear of magic." He exhaled. "Sometimes Klaus would mention how he wish he could regain his witch line."

"That's impossible."

He chuckled. "We both knew that. However, he wondered if there was just a powerful enough witch that used dark magic that could help him regain it."

Her heart stopped for a second. Was that why they took an interest in her?

"You don't think...?"

"He gave up on that long ago. I think he only mentioned it to me as a passing dead dream. I was one of the few people Klaus could call a friend. Sometimes, I was the only one he could talk to."

Bonnie saw that glimmer of friendship that bound Stefan, more so the Ripper, to Klaus. She had wondered why he would care about Klaus, but she wasn't there in the 20s in Chicago with him. Yet, she didn't want to believe Klaus knew him better. She didn't want to believe that the effort she had done to keep Stefan afloat was the same as Klaus keeping the Ripper afloat. Each chance to keep Stefan in control was the same as killing the Ripper. When Klaus tried to keep the Ripper in control, it was the same as Stefan dying in their eyes.

A constant tug of war between the two. Yet, Bonnie never wanted to acknowledge what Stefan meant and continues to mean to Klaus. She wanted an ally in him, yes, but to humanize Klaus was a path she would rather set on fire than explore. If his motivations made sense, where would that leave her? She refused to be seen as a villain to him.

But they were matched. He did it to protect the ones he loved. She did it to protect the ones she loved. He didn't care what it cost. She didn't care what it cost. Now, this was the result. An odd fork in the road where enemy and ally were not as easy to pick out and morality has run gray.

Her thoughts turned to the matter at hand. What if she could do that? A vicious part of her spat at the idea. Another part wondered why it mattered. If a witch could keep their magic even after vampirism, what was inherently wrong with it? The Spirits claimed Nature condemns it, but Nature has never interfered. They did.

"...If vampires could regain magic, would you want it?"

"I don't know."

"Hmm..." She leaned against the headboard of her bed. "What made you suspect you came from a witch line?"

"I often had dreams when I was human that was prophetic in nature. For example, I had numerous ones about Katherine before she arrived which was why I wanted nothing to do with her until she compelled me." His eyes darkened. "Anyway, is there anything else in the grimoire you need help with?"

"Have you read it?"

"She let me skim through it."

Not like he could do anything with a grimoire, but that statement alone proved how trusting Grams was of him. He was as loyal to Grams as he was to Klaus. Grams trusted him like Klaus. It unsettled her.

He cleared his throat. "Since we are on the topic of dark magic, there's something I need to tell you. It is about dark magic and side effects."

"Grams said it may be a myth."

"Side effects in the way a regular witch thinks, yes. The reason why the dark witches didn't give the full truth to Sheila was because she was a light witch. The side effect info is passed on between dark witches or discovered as one learns it. A witch's magic needs to be drained occasionally so that they can maintain control and some get irrational when their senses are heightened especially their emotions. They usually deplete their power through using large magical spells until they tire, murdering, or having sex."

"I understand the first two, but the second..."

"Well, you can't have sex with anyone. Humans are a no go but vampires and werewolves can take a hit from magic. Instead of doing anything, you just allow the magic to flow through. Magic without purpose can be absorbed into the vampire or werewolf."

"Does it hurt?"

"Depends on the amount of magic."

"Depends?"

"Of course, not all magic is equal. You are powerful which means you would need someone powerful to handle your magic. Most witches partner or select people who are within reason their level. A weak witch could be with a new vampire, for example."

"Why do you know this and Grams didn't?"

"I knew the witches interviewed more personally. Sheila was a light witch at the end of the day and dark witches don't trust them."

"But if people knew how it actually affects them, the stigma may go away."

"The stigma doesn't stem from its side effects. Dark witches are looked down upon because they go against the Spirits."

"Fuck 'em," she said as she yawned. It was nearing 10 pm. Usually she wouldn't be this tired by now, but the day had wore on her.

He chuckled before he got up. "Goodnight, Bonnie."

She wanted him to her more, but as her body relaxed into her bed, she couldn't protest. He walked out of the room and closed the door as her eyelids began to droop.

-X-

Rebekah was painting her nails on the dining room table when Klaus wanted into the room. He raised an eyebrow. His sister had been keeping to herself as of late. She mostly stayed in her room and only came out for school. While she did talk to them, she seemed somewhere else mentally. Her somber attitude had put him on edge, but she never revealed anything. She had been distant until today. Now, she was out and about in the manor but her eyes remained the same. Sad yet analyzing.

"Pensive tonight?"

She pushed a strand of hair back and sighed. "I guess."

"...Is something wrong?"

"Nothing."

That was a lie. He saw in her gaze she was searching for something to say. She never had chosen her words carefully around him or at least not this obvious about it. He couldn't stand not to know. He demanded the truth from his sister who was not one to keep even the small details from him.

"Rebekah," he paused. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes, but it is not something even you can fix."

"Not even me?"

"Not even you," she said with a sad smile.

"Tell me something. You went from despising the plan of befriending the Bennett witch to suddenly trying to help. You suggested I give her our mother's grimoire. You still haven't explained why outside of gaining her trust. This is without stating that Kol gave her Ayanna's grimoire which you also suggested."

"I'm not betraying you if that is what you are insinuating."

"I wasn't suggesting—"

"I..." she paused. "Trust me. All I need is for you and the others to trust me a little bit longer. Until the day after the new moon."

"...And you'll tell me everything then?"

She nodded. "All that I know."

He hated trust. He hated blind trust even more, but as he gazed into his sister's eyes, he sighed. He walked away from the dining room.

-X-

She was snacking on cookie dough in her kitchen at 5 am. She was propped up on a counter while she ate. The only light came from a few plug-in night lights. The dim and stillness of the kitchen allowed her to have a moment of peace.

Until a set of footsteps come toward her, she soon saw Stefan walking toward her in nothing but loose sweatpants and a shirt. His messy hair indicated he had tried to go to sleep, but something inside her told her he just had nightmares.

She hadn't been haunted by nightmares, but the bizarre dreams still left her with an odd sinking feeling in her stomach. She couldn't decode them, and she began to wonder if they were symbolic in nature. A part of her wanted to ask Stefan, especially in that moment, but she merely shook the feeling off.

"Hard time sleeping as well?"

She set the bowl aside. "I got hungry. If you are having trouble, you could sleep in my bed. I have a magic dreamcatcher that mostly works."

He gave a crooked smile. For a moment, she wore the Ripper had been fully resurrected and in complete control. His devious emerald eyes shone against the darkness. "Well, I have never shared a bed with a woman I did not sleep with."

She rolled her eyes and tried to ignore the heat in her cheeks. She had gotten used to the dirty remarks the Ripper would say in their limited time together. He acted similar to Damon in that way. However, it felt odd. Stefan was much more coy and respectful. She could pretend Stefan had no sexuality previously because he was with Elena and their relationship was purely friendship. He never talked like this.

"Grams would be disappointed."

"It's not like she didn't know."

"She knew you were a player?"

"How else would she have gotten those interviews with those witches?" He chuckled. "I was quite popular."

A realization hit her.

"You slept with those witches."

"A long time before the interviews."

"...It's hard to believe honestly. I always think of you as this romantic guy."

Stefan, not the Ripper. The Ripper she was able not to think of as she had categorized that side of Stefan as not permanent. Not him. Yet the more she learned about him, the more she questioned which side of him was Stefan. She didn't want to believe Stefan acted the same way as Damon did. Thinking of Stefan in a sexual light felt odd especially after reading Grams' grimoire. She wanted to desperately see him one way, but the cracks in that vision were expanding. He could be sexual, deviant, not holy. Her stomach heated at the thought.

"I was."

"Was?"

"I think that side of me died last summer."

"I'm sorry." She didn't know why but she reached her hand out and squeezed his hand. "It sucks to fall in love with the wrong person."

"Is there ever a right person?"

"I don't know."

He was closer. His abdomen scraped against her knees.

"I want you to know the truth about me, but I'm afraid you'll leave." Stefan's green eyes dimmed. "But I want you to hear it from me and not Klaus."

Their eyes met. She wanted to know more about Stefan, but would she be able to handle it? She squeezed his hand again. He nodded.

"...Klaus liked power. Chicago was buzzing with witches especially those dipping their toes into dark magic. He saw it as a great opportunity." Stefan placed both his hands on either side of her. "Klaus knew he couldn't be every witch's taste but knew having me around could help sway some witches to his side."

"What?"

"Dark witches have three options to help them stay base level, remember? Drain, murder, or fuck. However, they can't just do it once a year especially those heavily practicing. If a witch goes the fuck route, they need someone or someones capable of not getting hurt and be usable a few times a month. So, I agreed to it."

Stefan willingly had sex with multiple dark witches and from what she knew so far, knew them quite well. And that's when it all made sense. Why he knew dark magic so intimately when her Grams could not.

"...What did you get out of it?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Besides the obvious, I got to drink their blood."

And it made more sense why the Ripper would agree. Blood. A witch's blood was better than any human blood, but vampires often never got a chance at drinking it because the threat of magical violence was always there. For witches, giving a vampire their blood was taboo. Something to look down on since blood meant intimacy on both sides. There was nothing more heinous to most witches than being intimate with a vampire.

"He would want to punish me for my misconduct toward him. Having you rescind our friendship because you learned the truth about me is one way."

"He's vindictive like a scorned lover."

"While we were never lovers, we did share them."

And that statement threw her for a loop. "Like at the same time?"

"Curious?"

She shook her head. "I can't tell when Stefan begins or the Ripper ends."

"Neither can I." He tilted his head. "Does that scare you?"

"Not anymore."

He leaned down. "Even now?"

"Even now."

His lips grazed her neck. She could feel his fangs scrape against her flush skin. She trembled as his left hand gripped his waist and brought her closer to the edge of the counter. A groan was caught in her throat as Stefan's lips met hers. He moved closer causing her legs to part.

For a moment, he leaned back. "The Ripper and I are the same person now."

She had sealed his fate that night. A shiver went down her back as Stefan continued to stare at her. "Are you angry I caused that?"

"You freed me." Stefan leaned closer to her again. "But where Stefan, the good guy, and Ripper, the bad guy, end is just as vague. I don't know if I can ever be as good as you need me to be."

She had been just like Klaus. Stefan had to be one way for her and one way for him. The other side of him was considered unacceptable. To her, killing made the Ripper evil. Yet, the Spirits and everyone else around her were murders as well. If she placed Stefan into a box, she would never truly know him. If she gave him a measurement only martyr Stefan could pass, then he would never reach it. The man she was staring at was Stefan and the Ripper. She didn't want to give him a pass, but she understood creating a vision of him he would never be. It was a similar vision her friends had had of her. The Bonnie that was a martyr and savior. A test she would ultimately fail now.

Yet, she was no worse nor no better of a person than she was those months ago. She just changed.

"That's okay. This is enough for me."

Their lips crashed together. She became acutely aware of this new reality. She wanted Stefan, a version that Elena never had nor did anyone else. A version of him where he was him. Yet, it was too fast. The walls she had placed crumbled, and she feared who else could get this close. Her boundaries had been swayed under his touch. She wanted to continue to see Stefan as just a friend. A nonsexual entity that helped her. She could admire his beauty from a far and not destroy the connection they had.

Right now, she was enjoying him close. His taste, his touch, his want. She hadn't known what it was to feel wanted in this sense. Not with Jeremy and the fizzled fling they had. Not with other boys who had secretly pined for Elena or Caroline. Stefan wanted just her, right now.

Then the cynic in her mind showed up. How much of this was them and how much magic? Guilt flooded her mind. She wanted it to continue. She wanted it to stop. Contradictions ripped through her as their kiss continued and their bodies pressed firmly together. Was this Stefan's choice or the magic she had ensnared him in? No, she had freed him she reminded herself.

She jolted as a hand banged against her front door.