A/N: Hello, everyone, and welcome back! I'm sorry for taking so long to update this story. I've been sickly this past month (nothing too bad, but bad enough to need a lot of rest) and had an important test. Anyway, I will resume the weekly update routine again.

To everyone who left a review, thank you! I will be answering questions and comments soon, but know that your words keep me motivated to write! So, again, thank you!

Anyway, let us get on with the story!

This chapter was not beta'd yet.

o.O.o

Chapter Fifteen, Let the Right One in

The tomb beneath the ruins of Fell's church was much like a cellar beneath the ground. A hidden cellar, practically invisible to the naked eye. My heart was beating fast, so fast it was almost painful and my fingers curled tightly around the flashlight. The narrow beam of light shivering over the walls as I'd tucked it between my side and my elbow, shuddering spookily over Sheila's face. Her eyes stared unblinkingly into the rock ceiling.

Her face still registering disconcerted surprise and I swallowed, swallowed down the second scream building into my throat. Stefan Salvatore stepped out from the shadows, his green eyes jaded.

"Stefan?"

"Are you okay?"

"I—yes?" I mumbled, my brain drew a blank.

Stefan stepped over Sheila's limb body and Mr Martin, who had managed to get to his feet, stared at the newcomer with wide eyes. He looked at the crumpled body in a way that made me think he had no idea what he was supposed to do. I certainly didn't know what I was supposed to do and I exhaled noisily. My blood was roaring in my ears and my throat felt sore, as if I'd been screaming— like I'd been screaming for hours. Eyebrows furrowing so deep, his eyes almost disappeared, Stefan stepped closer to me.

"You killed her."

"She was trying to hurt you, Elena."

"I know," I whispered, "but she didn't deserve to die. This— this was not meant to happen."

"I couldn't let anything happen to you," Stefan decided and I was slightly taken aback by the fire in his eyes. It didn't take me long to put two and two together and arrive at four. Damon had spilled my secrets and now, Stefan would try and interfere. I could tell from the set of his mouth and the tense line of his shoulders, that he knew.

I swallowed. Mr Martin stepped up next to me. I kept my eyes on Stefan when I spoke to the dark-skinned man. "Where you send to bring me home?"

"Yes," he agreed, "Elijah thought it would be best."

"Okay," I agreed and wondered if letting me stay at Elena's house was just a courtesy, just as it had been in the original timeline. I forcefully didn't look at Sheila's body again, my heart galloped in my chest, and I crossed my arms beneath my breasts.

"I can take her," Stefan said, his voice hard but I couldn't. I couldn't face him just now.

I shook my head. "No, no, it's okay," I whispered and Stefan looked sad at that. I inhaled deeply. "I'm okay, Stefan. I don't need a knight in shining armor."

"Besides," Mr Martin put in, staring hard, "someone will have to deal with the woman."

I inhaled deeply again. Reduced to 'the woman'. Everyone who got killed in the show was just forgotten. Only ever spoken of as an afterthought. Even worse, at some point killing became such a normal occurrence, the characters, and even the viewers, just stopped caring. Or perhaps, that mostly happened to the viewers? Maybe, I would at least remember them and keep their memory alive?

My stomach heaved violently, but there was nothing to throw up so instead, I just leaned forward until the feeling passed, mouth closing and opening several times. When I looked up again, Stefan was already heaving up Sheila's body and I felt a stab of guilt run through me at his resigned expression. Her death might have been unnecessary, but I shouldn't forget that Stefan had gone through all these lengths to protect me.

"Stefan!"

"Yes?"

I managed a smile. "Thank you for trying to help me."

He was gone the next moment. Perhaps he interpreted my white face and my watery eyes correctly and didn't want to be around when I inevitably burst into tears (I seemed to have a real knack for that too) or perhaps he respected my wishes. Just as Stefan had done with canon-Elena's wishes. I had no idea, but in the blink of an eye, he was gone. From the rectangle opening above my head, a shaft of moonlight filtered through the almost bare spindly branches overhead and threw a dappled light along the dirt floor.

"Are you all right?" Mr Martin asked, a worried frown marrying his eyebrows.

"I'm okay," I wasn't, but—

"A stupid question," he admitted and I was acutely reminded that this man had two teenage children. That this man had been extremely attentive whenever his son tried to hide something and my cheeks started to flush. "Of course, you're not okay. Do you need anything? Is there something I can do?"

"No," I mumbled and curled my fingers tighter around the flashlight. I really didn't understand why everyone was so nice to me. "I just want to go home."

He nodded curtly and led me up the dusty stairs. When we stepped out into the small clearing, my hand brushing against one church wall, the wind tousled my hair and I shivered. The temperature had dropped drastically and I could barely even see Mr Martin's silhouette against the darkness of the forest. In the distance, I thought I heard the telltale rush of vampires disappearing in the night and I felt happy at least both Anna and Pearl had made it out in time.

The path we followed was trampled and the few sprigs of grass that had survived the first stages of winter were wet with dew. When we stepped out of the forest and onto the edge of more recent parts of the cemetery, I let out another grateful exhale. When we entered the road, I watched Mr Martin hail a cab (he'd probably called a cab company before going to collect me) and I stealthily climbed in the back. Mr Martin took a seat next to me and as he provided Elena's home address, I slouched back in my seat. It had been an incredibly long day.

My body ached when we finally arrived at Maple street. Scrambling out of the taxi, it was to several unfamiliar cars parked in front of the Gilbert house. My spine prickled as I stumbled out of the car, up onto the porch and, finally, into the house. The door clicked shut behind me and I followed the worried voices down the hall.

Everyone was in the kitchen. Miranda and Grayson stooped over the counter, Jeremy ram-rod straight on a stool, and Liz Forbes flattening her hands over what I assumed was a list of questions or information. Information about me.

There was a calendar of patrol times propped up on the windowsill and across the table, pictures were spread. Pictures of Elena Gilbert, from all ages and a 'Have-you-seen-me-poster' to the side. All four of them looked up when I let out a harsh gasp. They were starting a search— for me? Shit!

"Elena?" Miranda wheezed.

"Jesus Christ, Elena!" Grayson gasped and hurried across the room. "Where have you been?"

"I—" I had no idea what I was supposed to say. What was supposed to explain my absence (how long had I been gone anyway, it must have been longer than the twenty-four hours I'd initially thought)? Grayson cradled my jaw, forcing me to meet his eyes. My pulse increased and I tried shifting closer to the door, away from Grayson's intense stare. The lie worked its way in my mind a second later.

"I don't know."

"You don't— Elena, don't you dare!" He started furiously, his skin white and lusterless as chalk.

"I don't remember," I echoed, scratching at my wrist. The crusting of blood coming away.

"What is that?" Grayson asked, catching the limb and bringing it up for inspection. There was a hardness in his expression I had never seen before. However, he did exactly as I'd anticipated. Now I hoped he would think me not knowing where I was, was vampire related (it wasn't a lie, exactly). I swallowed hard, my eyes drawn to Miranda now.

Her eyes were wide and her face shallow-colored. She was dressed in a blue nightdress, standing on bare feet and I realized I'd scared the living daylights out of her. Grayson was inspecting my neck now, having dropped my wrist in favor of pushing aside the material of my turtleneck. I knew what he would find, or wouldn't find.

"What are you doing?" I asked dumbly, trying to keep my expression as confused as possible.

"Did something attack you?"

"No," I denied, "I fell— I think."

Grayson's face softened and he pulled me close. Miranda joined in, carding her fingers through my hair. A burning sensation fluttered over the skin of my wrist, surging up through my left arm. The lingering ache that settled there was somewhat irritating.

When the two adults stepped back, Liz Forbes started a careful round of questioning, noticed a few leaves stuck in my hair, and after twenty minutes of not-really-answering any questions, ordered several men to search the forest, and find the cab that had picked me up. Apparently there had been a cop outside when I'd arrived.

Grayson pushed me onto a stool at the kitchen table, as Miranda settled a cup of tea in front of me. It smelled vaguely like roses and I almost snorted. Of course, Vervain tea, it didn't surprise me. I felt slightly numb and I wondered— was this the beginning of stopping to care? Did I even want to care anymore? I bit my lip hard, mostly ignoring the adults' conversation, and considered my options (as I'd done so often before).

Damon was a grenade without a pin, at least he was out of the equation. Anna and Pearl would leave town if they were smart and Elijah was warming up Klaus to my terms. Or at least, he was trying to get into contact with Klaus. I could only imagine how good he'd gotten at disappearing at will.

"Elena!" A new voice gasped and I whirled around.

"Jenna?" I asked in surprise as Elena's young aunt rushed over and almost strangled me.

"Oh my God, Elena," she huffed squeezing me even tighter and I patted her back helplessly, "Do you have any idea how worried I was? How worried everyone was? Half the town was up and about."

"Y—yeah, I get that now, Jenna—" I whined and she let go of me as if burned.

"Oh, sorry."

"So the prodigal daughter returns?" An amused male voice asked next from the door opening.

My eyes widened in surprise. "Erm—"

"I'm Alaric Saltzman," he introduced himself (unnecessarily if I may add) and I nodded.

"Elena," I replied in ways of introduction and stared at Jenna again, my eyebrows furrowed so tight it made my skin itch. "Elena Gilbert, I'm— not sure what's going on."

"Ric's presence is my fault." She mumbled and I mentally put the nickname away for later.

"I didn't want to be a bother, Jenna." Alaric retorted.

"You're not—" she started and Grayson leveled her with an amused look.

"You almost ran him over at Main Street, when you were looking for Elena," he drawled.

Jenna flushed and I sniggered. "You almost ran someone over?" I echoed. "Really, Jenna?"

"He appeared out of nowhere," she defended huffily.

"I was crossing a pedestrian crossing." Alaric dryly remarked and that comment got a smile out of everyone. I could see it too. Alaric's smiles were easy and pleasant and when he stepped closer I noticed the skin on his forehead and neck were sun-darkened, a light golden in the kitchen light. And Jenna was looking at him as if he was a pond of water in the desert. I remembered how good they were together.

That was until Jenna learned about Elena's birth mother. Their relationship became a rise and fall after that. And wasn't that the problem? All those people got hurt or even worse because they didn't know. I promised myself that at least I would keep Jenna safe. She deserved to have a life away from all the misery that was Mystic Falls.

"Let's get you to bed," Miranda whispered and shoed her younger sister out of the way, before leading me up the stairs. I wondered how she still hadn't grasped that I wasn't her Elena. But then again, who knew how someone acted when faced with trauma?

Surprisingly, I slept well that night.

The next morning, I awoke to the bright beams of sunlight scattered on the cherrywood floorboards of Elena's bedroom. And to Stefan perched on the edge of my window seat. I sat up in a flurry of blankets and feathers, escaping from my pillow when I grasped it tightly, hugging it against my chest. My heart was galloping in my chest and it took several minutes before my breathing became normal again.

"Stefan?" I gasped. "What are you doing here?"

"Good morning Elena,"

"How did you get in?"

"Jeremy invited me in," he told me apologetically and I drew my tongue along my teeth.

"I see."

It was awkward. Or, it felt awkward and I struggled to my feet, my arms wrapping around my waist. The night before I'd only dressed in a pair of shorts and a simple camisole (which I was regretting now) and self-consciously I moved towards the joined bathroom.

"Do you have a moment?" I mumbled, feeling my cheeks heat up, and at his curt nod, I hid into the bathroom. The clothes I'd worn the previous day were still there, discarded haphazardly beneath the sink and I quickly threw on the red button-up and the dark blue denim jeans. There were freshly singed holes in the knees and I wondered almost absentmindedly how they'd gotten there.

When I finally stepped out, the house was too silent and my blood felt as if it was crawling beneath my skin. Stefan hadn't moved from his spot on the windowsill. I gently tugged at a lock of hair as I moved back to my bed, sitting in the centre with my legs crossed. "What are you doing here, Stefan?"

"I think you know."

Of course, I did, but I had to hear him say it. "Why?"

"I know about your deal with the old vampire."

"Damon told you?" I asked, my voice hooking on a note of uncertainty.

"Yes," he admitted, "and I must say, I'm really worried, Elena."

"I'm fine," I mumbled, averting my eyes. From my peripheral vision, I noticed the pleated red skirt of Elena's cheerleading uniform. Even without looking at him, I noticed the irritation coming off from Stefan in waves. Somehow, it made me bristle. "What do you want me to do, Stefan?" I snapped and met his gaze dead-on. "Do you want me to sit back and let others take the fall for me?"

"We can protect you." Stefan huffed defensively and somehow that comment only made it worse.

"No, you can't. You're no match to an original, Stefan. If you were, don't you think I would have asked?" I said (I probably wouldn't have, he'd probably have seen it as permission to pursue me again) and tried to keep the hostility out of my voice.

"That guy wants to kill you."

"Why do you care?" I whispered, fed up and so fucking tired. "Why do you really care?"

"You're only seventeen. You've barely even begun living."

I shrugged uncomfortably. "Is the life of one individual really more important than the lives of many?"

"Utilitarianism," Stefan said, nodding in understanding, but his eyes were bright.

My stomach lurched at the tone of his voice and I took a deep breath. "As I told your brother before, I have no other choice. Or at least, it's the only choice that would safe the highest number of people. Perhaps that way of thinking goes along with the lines of utilitarianism, but I don't care. I'm not going to hide while some ancient evil comes along and kills everyone I care for."

Stefan's snarl was more of an animalistic roar than a reply but I set my jaw in irritation. I wouldn't be deterred. I might not love the people in this town, I didn't want to see them getting hurt. I cared enough for Jeremy, wanted Jenna Sommers to have a life, and had hoped I could have prevented all the hurt and horror Caroline would have to go through. Just as I'd hoped to keep Bonnie mostly out of all that was supernatural, but obviously I had failed at that. I wouldn't fail again.

"Elena, this isn't right."

"No," I conceded, "perhaps not, but it's as close to right as it can get."

He was close to me in the blink of an eye, close enough for me to see the specks of gold along with his irises. "Please, Elena!" He whispered, his hands cradling my jaw. "Let me help you."

"Do you even understand what you're dealing with?"

"I've heard of the Originals."

"I'm sure that what you heard does not add up to reality," I muttered and met his gaze again. "Listen, I made a deal. A good deal which ensures my survival and the survival of the people I love." I explained, keeping my voice slow and even. "I need you to not get involved. I don't want you to be involved. I'm basically nothing more to you than the girl who looks like your ex-lover and it should stay that way."

"You're so much more," he whispered and his thumb brushed along my cheekbone.

"Stefan, please," I mumbled trying to avert my face. "Just try to respect my choice."

I really sounded like Elena Gilbert then.

"Elena, he wants to kill you, you can't ask me to just sit idly by."

"I don't want him to go full-on terminator and kill everyone in sight, all right?" I snapped.

He snorted. "You're becoming a martyr. That isn't brave, that's tragic."

"I rather become a martyr, then see every person I know die a gruesome death," I told him.

"I'm not going to let you die." He told me and turned around to Elena's built-in closet.

"By all means."

I heard the rustle of clothes and I guessed Stefan was moving through the room, but I didn't turn around. Picking out a matching sweater, I took my sweet time doing the buttons before looking his way again. He'd settled on the edge of Elena's desk, fingers intertwined and face solemn.

I swallowed. "You're not going to leave this alone, are you?"

"Of course, not."

"Wonderful," I grumbled.

Sliding my fingers over the purpling bruises blooming around my left wrist, I opened my mouth, unsure what I would have said when two raised voices interrupted me. Stefan looked only vaguely startled. I supposed vampire hearing had him already aware of the newest arrival, but I winced. Dark eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed, I followed the sound of the shrill, reverberating voices. Stefan followed me dutifully. I was very much worried he would use his invitation to up his stalking tendencies, although he hadn't been the Edward Cullen in this warped-up version of twilight just yet.

Gripping the banister tightly I lent over it and felt my eyebrows rise all the way. Jenna Sommers was backed against the wall, her face flushed and John Gilbert stood over her. His face was almost scarlet in what I assumed was anger. His blond hair fell in straggly wisps around his face, fluttering over his forehead and I felt my heart wrench painfully against my ribcage. I had no idea why he'd come over and I ground my teeth together. More family members who might be trying to stop me from doing what I was supposed to do.

"Elena," he muttered and his face gaunt, "you're awake— who's this?"

"Hi— Uncle John, I had no idea you were here?"

"Jeremy let me in this morning." He remarked dryly and I wetted my lips.

"I see," before following John's gaze to Stefan, "This is Stefan, he's a classmate."

John frowned and I was reminded he was in touch with his long-lost girlfriend, Isobel Flemming in the original timeline. He probably was right now and I nervously tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.

"Are you all right?" John said, his accent (I couldn't pinpoint it exactly) curling heavily along his words. His eyes were hard, flitting to Stefan several times. "You'd got us quite worried."

"I'm sorry," I sheepishly replied.

"It's okay," he mumbled, stepping towards the stairs, hand held out. Stefan shook it slowly.

"Hello, Sir."

"Related to Zach?" John asked, for all intense and purposes sounding pleasant enough.

"That's my uncle," Stefan lied easily.

I trailed my tongue along my bottom lip, not daring to meet Jenna's questioning gaze. John looked at me as if he wanted to snatch me off the stairs, away from the hundredth-and-sixty-year-old vampire. "Shouldn't you be going, Stefan?" He asked, his tone slightly clipped, but otherwise still polite enough.

"Right, yeah, I'll see you at school Elena."

"Sure," I returned and led him away, and sighed in exhaustion when the front door fell behind me.

"You shouldn't give up," Stefan whispered, smoothing his hand along my shoulder.

"You shouldn't get involved. I mean it, Stefan. This is none of your business."

"You shouldn't have to die for someone else's gain."

I swallowed, gripping the frame of the doorway. This was leading me nowhere. "Believe me you have other things to worry about. My parents might not have made the connection yet, but Uncle John is better informed. He knows what you and Damon are. He knows what you are and he will do something about it." I said, hoping keeping his secret meant more to him than stirring trouble with me. Then again, if he was already in love with Elena— or with me (I had no idea how you were able to fall in love with two women with the same face), he would definitely try and stir trouble for me.

"Elena,"

"Just go, Stefan." I sighed.

"If that's what you want—" he started and I almost snorted. He didn't act like he would consider what I wanted when it went against his interests or opinions.

"It's what I want."

"Than, I'll see you later, right?"

"Yes, you see me at school," I agreed, opening the front door again and stepping inside backward without looking. I didn't know Jenna and John were right behind me until I bumped into John, face reddening horribly. "Oh, Uncle John?"

"Goodbye, Stefan," he remarked drolly and slammed the door shut.

To be continued...

A/N: and that was chapter fifteen. Isn't it just like Damon to use Non-Elena's secrets as leverage? I thought it was. And I think it is much like Stefan to try and save Non-Elena even if she wouldn't want him to.

Leave a review! I'd love to hear from all of you again.

Next chapter, next week, probably around Sunday or Monday.