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Elena's POV
She died.
That much, she remembered.
She remembered bargaining for her life. For Alaric's.
She had begged Klaus, pleaded with him. And for a moment, she thought she saw it—a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. A moment of doubt. If she just said the right thing, played the right angle, she could change the outcome.
She just needed to regroup with Alaric later. They could plan something better, something smarter than this reckless mess.
But reality had other plans.
The unhinged Original had snapped her neck as if she were nothing more than an inconvenience.
Like she didn't matter.
Like she was a means to an end.
A flash of rage burned through her—hot, bitter—but she forced it down. It wouldn't help now.
Because now, she was here. Alive.
And she knew what that meant.
She had to complete the transition.
The thought sent nausea rolling through her, but before she could process it, her eyes landed on him.
Damon.
Bloodied. Beaten. Broken.
Nothing else mattered.
Not Stefan.
Not Bonnie.
Not Caroline.
Damon.
"Damon!" She sobbed his name, stumbling toward him, fingers shaking as she cupped his face.
She barely registered Bonnie, standing silent and drained. Stefan, arms crossed, disappointment tightening his jaw.
She would make it up to him later.
She would fix this. Fix everything.
And Caroline…
Caroline was watching her. Different. Cold.
A shiver ran down Elena's spine. But she pushed it away. They were best friends. They would understand.
They would plan something together, like always.
Maybe Bonnie had a spell. Maybe there was some way to stop the transition.
And if there was—
She wouldn't be the one to drink that first, cursed drop of blood.
Then, she heard Kol.
His voice cut through her haze like a blade, sharp and taunting.
"What do you think our villagers would do to a harlot like that?"
Elena's body tensed.
Rebekah's response was just as cruel. "Tie her to a tree and stone her."
Elena gritted her teeth but didn't react. Not now.
She forced herself to breathe.
Not that it mattered.
Breathing was just habit, something instinctual she clung to—because the alternative, accepting what she was now, felt like drowning.
She focused on Damon instead. The bruises on his face, the cuts marring his skin. His blue eyes—usually filled with arrogance, mischief—were vacant.
She had never seen him like this before.
It terrified her.
Her fingers curled into the fabric of his jacket, gripping it tightly.
Somewhere in the background, Kol was still speaking, his voice dripping with condescension.
She barely heard him.
Her mind spun.
Bonnie. Stefan. Caroline. They would figure something out.
They had to.
Bonnie.
Bonnie would have a spell. A loophole. Something.
If she could stop this—if she could undo this—she would.
Wouldn't she?
A whisper of doubt slithered through her.
How many times had she been on the edge of choosing this life? How many times had she let Damon pull her closer to it?
Had it really been just circumstance? Or had she been inching toward this fate all along?
No.
She shook her head. She wouldn't entertain those thoughts.
She still had a choice.
She turned, searching for Stefan—an anchor in the storm.
But all she saw was disappointment.
It was in the clench of his jaw, the stiffness in his posture.
Stefan—the one person who had always been there, who had always saved her—was looking at her like she had failed him.
Like she had let him down.
It crushed her.
She opened her mouth to say something, anything—but the words wouldn't come.
Instead, her gaze shifted—Caroline.
Elena had expected worry, maybe frustration, but what she found instead was something else.
Something cold.
Caroline's eyes weren't just angry. They weren't just disappointed.
They were calculating.
And that was when Elena knew.
Something had changed.
Something in their friendship. Something in Caroline herself.
She didn't know when it had happened, if it had been gradual or if it had been building beneath the surface for months, but it was there now—unavoidable.
A chasm between them.
Elena forced herself to look away.
Focus.
There were more important things right now.
Bonnie. Magic. A plan.
Something to fix this.
She could worry about everything else later.
A rustle of movement snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts.
Kol was moving.
Bonnie barely had the strength to stand, swaying like a leaf in the wind. Before Elena could step forward, Kol scooped Bonnie into his arms as if she weighed nothing.
She made a weak noise of protest, but Kol only smirked.
"Relax, darling," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. "You look positively exhausted, and I'm feeling uncharacteristically chivalrous."
Bonnie's fingers curled into his jacket, but she didn't fight him. Couldn't.
Kol turned to Klaus, who still held Caroline.
"First Bonnie, now Caroline?" Kol drawled, his eyes gleaming. "What is it with the two of us carrying around our witches like blushing brides?"
Klaus shot him a flat look. "She is not a witch."
But something in his voice was tight.
Kol grinned, delighted to dig his claws into his brother's vulnerabilities.
"No, she isn't." He tilted his head. "But seeing you cradle her like that, I can't help but wonder… is this some practice run for a wedding, Nik?"
Klaus didn't react immediately, but something shifted in his expression.
Rebekah snorted. "Oh, please. Like Nik would ever let something as sentimental as a wedding distract him from his usual tantrums."
Klaus shot her a withering glare, but Kol just laughed.
"Well, since our dear brother seems to be collecting blondes, perhaps we should discuss magical wedding rings next." His gaze flicked to Bonnie, lips twitching. "What do you say, love? Up for enchanting a bit of jewelry for our dear Niklaus?"
Bonnie didn't respond.
She barely moved, her head resting against his shoulder, her breaths shallow with exhaustion.
Kol's smirk softened—just a fraction.
Without another word, he turned and disappeared into the night, Bonnie still limp in his arms.
Klaus followed, adjusting Caroline's weight in his grip.
She didn't resist.
Didn't even flinch.
Just let herself be taken.
Rebekah trailed after them, sparing Elena one last unreadable glance before vanishing into the darkness.
And just like that—
Elena was alone.
Alone with Stefan.
Alone with Damon.
The Salvatore brothers stood on either side of her, heavy with expectation.
And for the first time since waking up—
Since realizing what had happened—
Elena felt it.
The weight of it.
She was one of them now.
And there was no running from it.
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.
Then—
Damon spoke.
"Elena," he said, his voice low. Warning.
Stefan was already moving.
"You need to feed."
Elena flinched.
Because feeding—actually drinking blood—was the one thing she hadn't let herself think about yet.
And now she had to.
Boarding House
The Salvatore boarding house was unusually quiet. The tension in the air was thick, suffocating. Elena sat curled up on the couch, her arms wrapped around herself, while Stefan and Damon stood nearby, watching her with expressions torn between concern and frustration.
Matt was pacing. He had been since they got here, stopping every few moments to run a hand through his hair before resuming his restless movements. His face was tight, his jaw locked as he tried to process everything that had happened.
Jeremy sat on the armrest beside Elena, his hands clasped together, his mind already working through possible solutions.
"So, let me get this straight," Jeremy started, breaking the silence. "You guys went after the Originals, it didn't work, and now Elena is… like this." His eyes flickered toward his sister, who had yet to say much of anything.
"Yeah, that about sums it up," Damon said dryly, pouring himself a drink. "Care for a toast?"
Jeremy ignored him, focusing instead on Elena. "Are you okay?"
Elena swallowed hard. She wasn't sure how to answer that. Was she okay? What did that even mean anymore?
"I don't know," she admitted, her voice small. "It doesn't feel real."
Matt exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. "This is insane. You weren't supposed to—" He cut himself off, shaking his head. "I just… I never thought it'd come to this."
His voice was tight, frustrated, not just at himself but at the entire situation. The vampires, the Originals, all of it.
"Now what?" he muttered. "You just… live like them?"
"Matt," Jeremy said, trying to keep his own frustration in check. "It's not like she had a choice."
Matt let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah? And what happens next? How long before something else goes wrong? Before someone else gets hurt?"
Elena flinched at that, guilt settling in her chest like a weight.
Jeremy saw the way she shrank in on herself and turned back to Matt. "We'll figure something out."
"Like what?" Matt snapped. "There's no fixing this, Jer."
Jeremy clenched his jaw. "I'll talk to Bonnie."
That shut Matt up. For a moment, there was silence.
Stefan finally spoke, his voice softer but firm. "We'll handle this together. One step at a time."
Damon scoffed, but for once, he didn't argue.
Elena looked at Jeremy, her eyes pleading. "Do you really think Bonnie can help?"
Jeremy met her gaze and nodded. "I don't know. But I'll figure something out."
Bonnie's POV
Her life had been a mess ever since the Salvatores entered this town.
Elena, being herself, just had to go for that stupid new hot guy right after her parents' death—when life was finally getting back to normal.
Then it started. Vampires, werewolves, witches… and who knew what else.
Her life had become a tragedy of epic proportions.
She and Elena had a deep friendship, at least from Elena's side. But Bonnie also had a strong bond with Caroline—one that got sidelined when Elena lost her parents. Even before that, they had already started drifting apart.
Caroline was the only one who truly understood her pain, and she had pushed her away.
The girl who would fight the world for her.
The girl who even fought ancient horrors.
Let's not kid ourselves—that's exactly what the Originals are.
Ever since she got her magic, her life had been one disaster after another. Her Grams died. Her ancestors wouldn't stop meddling in her life.
What had she done so wrong to deserve this kind of pain?
Even her own mother left her… for Elena. What a joke. Caring more about your friend's kid than your own, then getting jealous of your daughter for having magic after losing yours.
And when she finally came back? It wasn't out of love—it was for the advantages.
After turning into a vampire, Caroline did everything she could to help her mother… but Bonnie didn't even want to call Caroline.
She remembered how she had treated her. How she reacted to Caroline after she turned. Their friendship still hadn't mended.
And yet, Caroline, being the ever the ray of sunshine (even high on blood), still volunteered to help Abby function. It was then that Bonnie realized—maybe she wasn't as good a person as she liked to think. Maybe, compared to her friend, she was downright awful.
Lately, Elena was pissing her off. Sleeping with Kol? As if the girl had any decency when she had already been going for a full Salvatore sandwich.
But after finding out what Damon had done to Caroline? Bonnie could barely keep from vomiting in his face and then burn him down while making his pain felt for eternity. Still, she held it together.
Like She had done that for the past three years—for Elena.
And now? Now, she had been saved from the brink of death by her ancestors… from Kol Mikaelson, who had been all too ready to kill her. He had a high opinion of her, apparently—hence, best to nip the problem in the bud.
But after her insanely powerful ancestor handed her a bargaining chip, Kol backed down. Not fully, though. She could see it in his eyes.
At the time, he had been a maniac—one who either wanted to kill her or sleep with her. Honestly, she couldn't tell which way he had been leaning.
After picking her up, he had flashed her straight into her house. She groaned at the realization—the bastard still had an invitation from their last hookup.
She leveled him with a mild glare.
"Yes, darling? Tell me, what has annoyed you so?"
He smirked, his tone dripping with amusement.
Of course, he was already planning for another hookup session.
Remembering the sex, she let out a small groan, her cheeks heating up.
"Oh my," Kol mused, watching her closely. "Looks like someone just took a little trip down memory lane."
He was enjoying this way too much.
Bonnie sighed.
Kol Mikaelson—the bane of her existence.
That was her last thought before she drifted off to sleep.
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