The stars are bright and cold, bathing everything in silver on the island, a fitting scenery for Rebekah’s feelings, as she watches Stefan console Elena, and insisting that they will find Jeremy and he will be okay. Even if they’re not together, Stefan gravitates around Elena; no matter how many times that annoying little brat breaks his heart. And in that moment Rebekah sees herself as a star: distant, cold, watching and forever alone in a vast and terrifying space.
And only then she realizes that she fears she will never be what Elena is to Stefan: a lifeline to someone, a reason to live and be a better person.
When all Hell breaks loose and Silas is awaken and roaming the Earth, they go back to Mystic Falls, thankful to be alive, and in need of a plan to eliminate the most powerful being in the world. Nik is on their side, because self-preservation is his priority and it’s not hard to figure out that Katerina wants to make him mortal again, the cure is the ultimate key to her freedom.
The merry little group of teenagers and supernatural misfits are trying to come up with a plan to save the world, but it seems impossible and not just because Silas is stronger than any of them, but most of them are reeling from the grief of losing the little Gilbert. Rebekah doesn’t understand why they are so keen on mourning when they have to save their own life – and she didn’t mourn her own brother she has lost recently, so if she can keep going on, so could they.
She goes to the Gilbert house to shake some sense into Stefan’s head, and drag him into their group meeting, because as much as she doesn’t want to admit it, they need every last one of them, meaning even the Salvatores. But Stefan has holed himself up beside his precious Elena, who still doesn’t want to let go of her dead brother, still doesn’t accept the idea that Jeremy is truly dead this time.
When Rebekah arrives there (she doesn’t need to be invited in which is the clear sign of Jeremy’s passing) everything is quiet. It doesn’t take much time to find Stefan in Elena’s room, sitting beside her bed, glued there like a stone guardian angel. She would laugh at how pathetic Stefan is, if this kind of display of love didn’t feel like a knife twisting in her heart. As for Elena, she’s asleep, and she looks so much smaller, as if the grief is eating her alive. She seems alone and lost even in her dreams.
Rebekah’s afraid of ending up like this. But what scares her more is what she feels is nothing like Elena’s all consuming grief, it’s just an endless icy pit what Kol left behind. She wonders when she will finally transform into such a cold monster like Nik.
When Rebekah can lure Stefan out at least to the front porch, he looks utterly lost. It’s as if he doesn’t know what to do, how to be the one who picks up the broken pieces. Yes, he lost his father, his mother, a best friend, but he didn’t lose something as essential as a sibling, he didn’t feel as if he lost an irreplaceable part of him.
And in that moment, Rebekah wonders if she just projected everything into Stefan, because she’s sure as hell, if she wanted someone to be her eternal love, that person wouldn’t be this listless when the grief strikes in her life. She would want someone to hold her together, to chase away the darkness and the cold. But now she realizes that Stefan just lingers beside Elena, waiting for her to return to the real world and he doesn’t reach for her. And no matter how much he cares for her, it’s not enough.
And that is when it hits Rebekah that Stefan isn’t the perfect match for either of them. Though she wouldn’t admit it out loud she and Elena are both too intense for Stefan, too much sadness weighs on them and their hearts are sharpened by all the loss and death which surround them. And Stefan isn’t the kind of person who wants to cut himself on other people’s slivers and shards. It’s really just a matter of time when he will see this, and move on.
Rebekah is frightened by how much time she needed to figure this out. She’s slightly taken aback at how much her need to find love is clouding her judgment.
Silas doesn’t show up for two weeks, and the feeling of false safety puts their vigilance to sleep. They reason that Silas maybe isn’t that dangerous after all these years, or maybe the Hunter’s curse got the better of him. Everything changes when Silas decides to come to MysticFalls and paints the streets red with blood. Rebekah doesn’t know what lies the council will feed the townspeople, but if she was human, she would have gotten the hell out of MysticFalls a long time ago.
They scatter and run but not all of them make it out alive: Rebekah sees Caroline and Damon go ashen and shrivel up, and she isn’t sure where Klaus is. But she doesn’t stop to look around for him, and sure he would do the same thing, so she flees, because Silas is determined to slaughter anyone who knows about the cure, his only weakness.
It strikes Rebekah strange how small, fragile and mortal she feels, and how scared she is. She’s as meaningless to Silas, as people and vampires to her, an Original.
In the end, Elijah finds her and takes her home or at least to a temporary hideout, hidden in the middle of nowhere. It’s a luxurious mansion – it doesn’t come as a surprise, her brother always had taste – with all kinds of protective spells around it, so Silas wouldn’t be able to cross the threshold. It’s safe, comfortable, but boring and suffocating. She doesn’t want to live her life – even an undead one – as a prisoner, confined between four walls. It feels too much like a coffin and the memories of being daggered and put away, left to be forgotten are still haunting her.
One day when she roams the mansion, while Elijah is away with some witches, planning to overcome the Silas-obstacle, in one of the bedrooms she finds Elena. It doesn’t come as a surprise, her brother always had a thing for Petrova girls.
Elena just lies there amidst the silk bed sheets and pillows, her body is so motionless, her skin is so pale, she can be a porcelain doll, but in reality she’s just starving herself. She looks ravaged, like life – or Fate herself – chewed her and then spit her out. She’s pitiful, but Rebekah doesn’t feel sorry for her, Elena did kill her brother, she would deserve a stake through her heart, but the grief can cause her more pain than anything else, so Rebekah is satisfied.
It’s not some sort of kinship what brings her to do the next thing she does.
“You know, I assumed I would enjoy your suffering, but you’re boring even when you’re lying in anguish.”
Elena doesn’t even twitch, there is no trace of recognition, she may be so far gone she doesn’t even know someone is there.
“You can play dead,” Rebekah continues. “But you have no right to wallow in self-pity, you’re not special.” She doesn’t mention that she lost Finn and Kol and look at her, she’s up, walking and talking, not crying in some corner and definitely not paralyzed by depression. She doesn’t dwell on the fact that she feels the numbing coldness threatening to engulf her whole. “Drink blood or I compel you,” she says harshly. “Stefan is still out there, maybe he wants you alive, but only God knows why.”
At the mention of Stefan, Elena flinches, so she heard her. Good. With that Rebekah leaves and returns with a couple of blood bags, she rips one open and puts them outside the door. The tantalizing smell of blood will do the trick.
She really just bored nothing else, that’s why she wants Elena out of bed and functioning. And when she sees the empty blood bags later that night, she’s relived because she will have someone to torment.
Elena can’t be seen, but every night the bags are empty which Rebekah leaves there every day for three weeks. Then one day she suddenly stops, and places two glasses of blood on the table, and starts reading, comfortably sitting in the living room. She doesn’t have to wait long, Elena arrives, her tentative steps echoing in the hallway.
“I didn’t know you like reading,” Elena comments lightheartedly as she reaches for the blood.
“Just because I’m blond, I’m not stupid,” Rebekah answers fiercely and doesn’t even bother to look up.
“Oscar Wilde, that’s pretty heavy reading,” Elena remarks after a few moments of silence, and it’s painfully obvious that the doppelganger wants to strike up a conversation.
“Let me repeat myself, I have a full functioning brain,” she replies harshly, but then adds more quietly, “I love to dive into stories and let myself swept away by other worlds, it’s miraculous to feel their pain and love and sorrow. It’s almost as if I’m human again…” she trails off, because she said too much, bared another piece of her, which would be only used against her yet again.
“It’s the same for me.” Elena nods understandingly, and it seems sincere, but Rebekah knows better than to trust her. “I mean, when I was human…” She flinches a little at the past tense, not yet accepting her immortal fate. “I did feel the same way. That’s why I liked to write stories or my diary, it helped me to feel connected to…” She seems to be searching hard for the right word and then settles for it. “To humanity, to everything, I guess.”
There is an unsaid understanding between them from then on: they don’t speak about who killed who, they don’t talk about death and loss and they definitely don’t discuss any idea about Silas. They are postponing the inevitable, but for now Rebekah senses that Elena needs time to patch herself together, to care about anything again.
So all they talk about is books, which is their unique way of communicating, while they discuss and dissect the stories they’re revealing pieces of themselves, their opinions, ideas, dreams and hopes. Rebekah muses about how quickly they get used to each other, but maybe it’s because they are all alone, and they have just the other for company.
One day Rebekah gives in the urge to play something on the piano, and what comes to her mind is the Moonlight Sonata, clichéd at it is, it’s still the one song that describes her feelings. Rebekah likes to thinks herself as someone passionate, fiery, a flurry of emotions, always in motion, burning hot, but in truth there was always something cold about her since she turned. As if her core, whatever that might be, a soul or just some essential part of her, is frozen just like her features, she is forever trapped as a girl who wanted nothing more in her life only to be loved and to have a normal life with a happy family. But instead she is like the moon, always in the darkness, stealing her light from someone else. She gives all this into her song, because there are no words for this, and the sad reality is that even if she could put this into words, there would be no one to hear them.
That’s when she hears a small gasp from behind her.
“That was beautiful,” Elena says awed. “Can you teach me?”
And before Rebekah could reply, Elena is already there beside her, sitting down next to her. In that moment, Rebekah sees the Petrova fire in her; there is something defiant in her that says she would stop at nothing to get what she wants. But Rebekah knows she’s far from Katerina and Tatia’s destructive ways. And maybe that’s why she gives in and starts an impromptu lesson. It’s not because it’s the first sign of anything lively about Elena since the deaths of her loved ones. And it’s definitely not because Elena sits a little too close to her and the brush of their legs sends something akin to warmth through her.
Days go by like this in a drowsy haze: Rebekah is playing on the piano, while Elena is starting to write again. It’s not a diary, but that wouldn’t stop Rebekah either, so one day she takes a little peek at it, while Elena’s in the bathroom. They are bedtime stories, really, nothing fancy and nothing complex or long like a novel, but their imaginary is vivid enough to make Rebekah almost choke.
The first one is about a girl, who is cursed, and she has to literally give a piece of her heart to whomever she loves, leaving her more and more cold and unfeeling, while she desperately trying to find someone who truly loves her. The second one is about a girl, who is not a girl, but a reflection in the mirror, and no matter how hard she tries to escape, she has to do what her other self wants on the opposite side of the glass.
Rebekah then reads every story. It’s a mystery if Elena deliberately lets her, doesn’t care or doesn’t know about it. Rebekah discovers that maybe there is someone else with the same darkness and glass slivers for a heart as hers.
They talk about death once. They’re splayed on the plush carpet, drinking vodka and staring at the stars with blurry eyes through the skylight.
“I hate to be this,” Elena states the obvious. After all, this whole mess started with her boyfriends wanting to find the cure for her, because she couldn’t accept this fate. “It’s like my whole life was nothing but good-byes and promises of death and now I… I feel like I’m walking in the dark forest of loss,” she exclaims and does a clumsy sweep with her hands to gesture at the whole suffocating world. Rebekah understands the feeling and thinks she underestimated Elena. She got to know her, but she thought she regrets the missed opportunity at having a family. But instead it’s that she became the epitome of what she hated the most. Death.
“You know, that was a great symbol or whatever,” Rebekah comments. “You should write it down.”
This gets a ridiculous, teary snort, but it’s a laugh nonetheless. It’s then when Rebekah decides she likes the sound of that and the next day she puts on jazz music and teaches Elena all kinds of dance moves. They touch and laugh and forget about everything else in the world.
Rebekah fears deep down that it’s yet another betrayal waiting to happen, and Elena is just playing some game. She’s scared of how much it will hurt her.
When Elijah comes back, he doesn’t say but he’s surprised they didn’t kill each other and he’s extremely happy to see that Elena’s on her feet. However a bad news is sure to come: Elijah didn’t find any way to stop Silas, but he’s closing in on Katerina.
Rebekah is sure that Elijah would tip the balance between her and Elena, because that two had some kind of friendship, and Elena certainly would be eager to spend her time in someone else’s company.
The first night they have a nice family dinner – Rebekah is sure a family would feel like this warm and right – and yes, Elijah is asking all the polite question about Elena’s new situation, talks subtly about the upsides of being an immortal, dangling hopeful images of a future containing endless traveling to dreamlike landscapes and indulging in the fine works of art. And after dinner Rebekah promptly plays on the piano, and while she imagines her brother winning Elena over, the said girl walks in and sits beside her. It’s a lovely night, something that despite the fact that all odds are against them, gives her hope.
It’s not long after that when they hear about Silas and their little bubble of self-delusion bursts into pieces and the harsh reality sets in. Silas sends them a message: he has Klaus, and he will torture and kill him, unless he gets the cure.
Rebekah’s heart starts to beat faster, though it should have stayed in its immortal sluggish rhythm, she can’t help it but fear for her brother. No matter what he did in the past, even if Klaus daggered her so many times, they’re family. Though it’s true Klaus hasn’t been his real self for a long time, and he made a dagger out of himself, slicing and cutting everyone around him, Rebekah can’t let go, to give up on him isn’t an option, she still has that foolish hope that they will be what they used to be: a family, even if a broken and damaged one.
“We will get him back.” It’s the sentence that pulls her out of her reverie. And surprisingly, it’s Elena who kneels before her, looking determined and searching her eyes, as if she’s checking for a crack on something fragile. It’s odd how Rebekah doesn’t find it annoying, or how reassuring Elena’s hand is on hers.
It gives her strength, but she fears she will lose another brother, and it may be the very blow which will break her into pieces.
Rebekah and Elena go after Katerina, while Elijah is on track of some spell which can contain Silas. Rebekah doesn’t judge her brother, after all, the other doppelganger used him, and Katerina may find some leverage while negotiating with him, so it’s just them, the two women who have nothing but disdain for the sly vampire.
They find Katerina in Vegas, which slightly feels right for her, a place throbbing with life, hiding anything wrecked and ugly with neon signs, glittering clothes and the false veneer of glamour.
Katerina compelled herself in some VIP poker room, and she isn’t surprised when they barge in, cutting through the low hanging cigar smoke and the heavy smell of alcohol and blood. Katerina raises her head from some rich man’s neck, wipes the blood off her mouth and smiles. It’s strange how much she differs from Elena, and Rebekah can tell just from a glance, she wonders how anyone else can mistake one for the other.
“Look at that,” Katerina says, and her voice is Elena’s, Tatia’s, but lacks everything the others had. There is no trace of Tatia’s naivety or Elena’s warmth. “Our heroes are here for the cure.”
It’s so strange, Rebekah muses, how three identical girls can be so different. She wants to ask Elena if she knows that, because clearly she’s struggled with the shadows of her ancestors. But this is not the place, nor the time for it.
“I want to ask, Elena,” Katerina continues, “why are you helping Rebekah? Aren’t you glad that Klaus is finally gone and we’re free…”
She can’t finish her sentence, because Rebekah can’t see anything but red, and slams Katerine hard into the wall.
“He’s not dead,” Rebekah snarls.
The humans don’t notice anything, Katerina must have compelled them to be the perfect little puppets, and that’s what Rebekah wants to do to her, but knows she can’t because Katerina’s smart and she’s on vervain. Rebekah growls in frustration and she tightens her grip on Katerina’s neck, but the other vampire just laughs, a mad sound.
“Not yet,” Katerina says cheerfully, which is so out of place, she’s in a death trap, she should be shivering with fear, and yet Rebekah is the one who feels the tightening grip of dread. “But if Silas doesn’t get the cure, he will be. And that’s something I want more than anything. So go ahead and kill me or torture me, you won’t find the cure either way.” She leers. “It’s time for my happy ending,” she adds somewhat softer, but Rebekah isn’t really listening, her mind grasps for any idea to solve this problem. She itches to kill this doppelganger wench, but she can’t, because there may be some magical catch and they need her alive for finding the cure.
“It’s not true.” Elena is the one who breaks the silent tension, and they both look at her confused. “I know you, Katherine,” she continues, “and the one thing you want is to be alive. You don’t want revenge on Klaus, not if it means you’re dead, so drop the act, it doesn’t work on me.”
“Oh, you know me so well,” Katerina answers, voice dripping with malice. “You don’t even know yourself, you aren’t even sure that the Salvatore brothers loved you for you, you are nothing more than a shadow…”
Rebekah cuts off her oxygen, so she can’t say more, but she knows the damage is done. She sees Elena’s jaw tightening, her fists clenching, and anger radiates off her like a heat wave.
“I do know you,” Elena counters. “This…” She gestures all around her. “This is your way of celebrating and sending out the message loud and clear that you’re here, you’re not hiding.” Elena’s voice has a sharp edge which Rebekah doesn’t think she has ever heard. “You don’t care about Silas, you think now that he has Klaus, when he finds about you and the cure, he will negotiate with you and leave you alive. But let me tell you something you don’t know: I won’t leave Klaus there, and you know me, it doesn’t matter how hard it is, I’ll find a way, and I’m not leaving anyone behind.”
Elena’s eyes are shining and her face is etched with defiance, jaw jutting forward, lips pursed into a thin line. And it is the first time when Rebekah sees her as the Elena from before, a person who has so much strength she is almost like a natural element.
“Just give us the cure, Katherine, and we’ll promise, when we free Klaus, he’ll give you a head start.”
Rebekah has to admit she’s a little amazed: Elena is smart enough not to swear something she can’t keep. And just like that all the fight fades away from Katerina, she gives up, and slumps against the wall defeated.
When they go to the hotel where Katerina is staying to retrieve the small box, Elena and Katerina are talking about something she doesn’t listening in on. She can’t really care about that, when she sees the cure in Elena’s hands, and feels something which resembles to loss. She could have been human, if it wasn’t for Nik. It’s yet another cruel twist of fate, the life dangles in front of her what she wants the most, she just has to reach out, snatch it and be gone, but she can’t risk her brother’s life.
When they watch Katerina flee, retreating into her life of terror and hiding, Rebekah has to ask something.
“Why did you do that?”
She means a lot of things she can’t say out loud: Why are you helping me? Why are you so keen on rescuing the very one person who tore your life apart? Why did you condemn Katerina into running for her life forever?
“Because she isn’t evil.” Elena’s answer puts her actions into a whole new light, she doesn’t see letting Katerina go as cruel but the only option where the other doppelganger stays alive. “She is just too broken to be put back together.”
Rebekah is afraid what Elena thinks of her, if she considers her too broken or evil or anything else. She doesn’t know which could be the worst.
When they get home – and now Rebekah literally thinks of this mansion as home – Elijah is waiting for them anxiously. He will be the one to face Silas; he hasn’t even considered anything else to be an option. But what he does with the cure surprises Rebekah: he proposes that Elena should take it, and Silas will know that they used it, surely he has ears and eyes who will confirm that Elena is human again.
Rebekah isn’t that jealous as she should be, and some part of her is happy for Elena which is utterly ridiculous. Yet the night finds her alone, looking out at the stars, trying to quench her envious thoughts and the pinpricks of betrayal because her brother has offered the cure to Elena naturally.
She tries not to feel sorry for herself, but she has no idea how she will survive every day while seeing Elena living her dream. Even at the thought of this the ache is so profound it catches her breath, but she doesn’t cry, it seems she knows subconsciously it’s not a sorrow which can be eased with the release of tears.
She hears the now familiar footsteps behind her, but doesn’t turn around, doesn’t want to see Elena human again. But what she hears stops any bitter thing she could say: Elena’s heart beats unnaturally slow, the sure sign of being a vampire.
She waits until Elena is standing beside her and that’s when she finds the courage to look at her questioningly. She doesn’t dare to hope Elena is that selfless to give up her only chance to get her life back, but Rebekah’s heart starts to beat in a staccato rhythm as she catches a glimpse of the little vial, glinting in the moonlight.
Elena holds out the cure, which is such a little thing, from the outside it looks nothing special, an opaque liquid in a crude bottle, but to the two of them, it means everything.
“You should have it,” Elena says softly, a gentle whisper in the dark night.
Rebekah reaches for it hesitantly, how could she not, but when her fingers brush Elena’s palm, she stops.
“Why would you give this up?” she asks. She can’t think a good reason why she wouldn’t want it. “Are you afraid it doesn’t work?”
“No, it’s not that…” Elena replies, but trails off.
“Then what is it?” Rebekah demands.
She sees perfectly well in the moonlight, she sees the uncertainty on Elena’s face, she sees every moment as Elena is thinking through something and finally decides. But none of that could prepare her what comes next.
Elena leans forward, and presses her lips against hers. Rebekah is so surprised she doesn’t move, all she can focus is how warm and soft Elena’s mouth is and how right and natural it feels. It’s only a brush of lips and she hears a low moan, a little gasp – though she’s not sure whose – and then there’s a rush of air and Elena is gone, what remains after her is a strange, light feeling, a sweet taste on Rebekah’s lips and the promise of her dreams coming true in her hands.
She fears she might be developing a soft spot for the Petrova allure too.
When she takes the cure there is blinding and searing pain and blood, but eventually she feels her heart beating fast, and hears herself gasping for air. She doesn’t mind she isn’t that powerful she was, because the promise of a long and natural life fills her with anticipation.
They don’t talk about what happened, Elijah doesn’t seem surprised and doesn’t ask any question, he just goes on his rescue mission. They don’t talk about the kiss either, but there are lingering touches and meaningful glances, and Rebekah thinks that maybe they are right for each other. It doesn’t matter to her that Elena is a she, because Rebekah always thought love is love no matter what, and lived a long live to know what’s important. And though she doesn’t want to admit the ‘love’ word even to herself, she knows she doesn’t want to let go of what she has with Elena: they hold each other together.
After they free Nik, he doesn’t come back, he only sends a message about Stefan’s death with Elijah and he’s off to God knows where. Rebekah misses him, but she doesn’t let her brother spoil her happiness.
She wants to go to college, so she asks for Elena’s help with the applications and what paperwork needs to be forged. It’s a blatant excuse to get them alone, and it’s working too, soon the accidental touches, brushes of fingers and knees turn into something more. It’s Rebekah who gives up and with a growl of frustration pulls Elena toward her and kisses her desperately. In that moment, nothing else matters, everything narrows down to Elena’s beating heart against her chest, Elena’s lips on hers, and the warm thrill which runs through her. It’s sweet, it’s intense, it’s love and life.
The perfect moment is ruined by Elijah, who would have knocked in any other circumstance and surely it would have helped if they closed the door. Elena pulls away blushing and embarrassed, she tries to say something, opening her mouth but nothing comes out. When Elijah just apologizes in his usual stoic voice, Rebekah can’t hold it in any longer and laughs. It’s real and feels nice and it’s everything she wants from life.
They know Silas is out there and Elijah is working on some plan, but they feel safe enough to plan to go out and live a little. They hope Silas would leave them alone, after all, he has his nefarious plan to focus on. But more often than not Elena voices her fear for Bonnie, who has last seen with Silas in some kind of thrall. Elijah reassures her that Silas wouldn’t harm Bonnie and they will find a way to free her.
Eventually Elena agrees to go to college with Rebekah, who can’t be dissuaded. The first month is heaven itself: the lectures are mostly boring, but some are interesting. It’s fun to make Elena smile when she grumbles about the inaccuracies in art history lessons. It’s more fun to go out and dance and drink or just go see a movie or stay at home and try to learn. Small mundane things, but to Rebekah it is everything.
As life would have it, when everything feels right something will come and shatter it to a million pieces. And that’s why one night, when Rebekah is going home to their apartment, someone steps in front of her from the darkness between the buildings.
He seems to move like a shadow, there is something unnatural to him, and Rebekah can’t decide if it’s the hungry gleam in his ice blue eyes or his posture, like he’s a predator and she is a prey. Or some primal human part of her is telling her to run, tensing her muscles, readying her for escape. But it’s useless just like in the old times, when humans were afraid of the dark, and more often than not, she was the one hiding in the night.
He doesn’t have to say anything; she just knows who is standing before her.
“Silas,” she whispers.
Her heart feels like a bird which wants to desperately escape from her ribcage and tries as she might she can’t swallow through her fear.
“And you’re the stupid vampire who used the cure,” he says, and his voice sounds kind, almost soothing, if not for the sense of danger she feels, he could be just an ordinary, handsome British guy, asking about directions, not threatening her. “You have no idea how easy you made it.”
As he steps closer to her, Rebekah can’t move, she’s petrified, her mind can’t seem to process the urge to flee, it’s as if a spell has been cast on her. All she can think of how short her human life was, like her first time. It crosses her mind that maybe it’s destiny and she isn’t supposed to have a happy ending. She is vaguely grateful because Elena isn’t here and at least she gets to live.
But as if to answer her thoughts, she sees movement in the corner of her eyes, and the next thing she knows there’s a rush of air, a woman’s voice chanting and noises of a struggle. They’re moving too fast for her eyes, but she can make out the unfamiliar witch girl on the other side of the road.
She can’t even process anything and it’s over: Silas is lying on the cold pavement under the flickering light of a streetlamp and his eyes are staring into nothingness, he looks strangely broken and fragile as the life drains away from him and his skin goes ashen. A familiar stake – the white oak one – is protruding from his chest and Elena and Elijah stand next to him. While Elijah is crouching down to check if Silas is really dead, Elena rushes to Rebekah with inhuman speed and wraps her arms around Rebekah. She suspects she’s in shock but she still manages to voice her indignation.
“You two were following me…”
“Yes,” Elijah states, clearly not feeling guilty, standing up and wiping his hands on a handkerchief. “We learned that there’s a little catch in taking the cure.”
“When isn’t there…” Elena grumbles, and in that moment it feels only Elena is holding her up, because the dread is clawing at her again.
“It’s nothing major,” Elijah rushes to reassure her. “When you turned into human your blood became the key to curing immortality. That’s why Silas was after you.”
“And you knew that…”
“I wanted to tell you…” Elena says at the same time. “I’m sorry, but your brother insisted to keep it from you until we had a sure way to get rid of Silas.”
Rebekah wants to feel angry because now she is the weak human everyone wants to protect, ironically it’s the same position Elena was not so long ago, but when she looks up at Elena, she sees genuine regret and pain that she had to keep secrets from her.
“And how did you kill him?” Rebekah changes the subject, she will have time to fume later, but now she’s glad she’s alive.
“Katherine,” Elena replies. “She figured it out. Silas was basically like you, an Original, but with a kick, so we needed a little extra beside the white oak stake…” she trails off and she looks like she doesn’t want to continue.
“We had to sacrifice a few humans,” Elijah says instead of Elena. “We needed their life essence to extinguish his.”
And in that moment, Rebekah feels a little sick because she knows what Elena thinks of killing innocent people.
“They weren’t good guys,” Elena says reassuringly, but it’s not clear who she’s trying to convince.
Rebekah leans against Elena, and though yet another chapter ended in her life of supernatural disasters, she can’t help but be scared because she’s sure Elena will regret this decision for the rest of her life and maybe she will figure out Rebekah is not worth saving.
Rebekah’s blood holds the key to the cure and they’re working on it with Elijah’s witches, but for now it seems futile. Though it looks like Elena is finally getting used to being a vampire, it’s nice to have hope to grow old together, and to hell with it, Rebekah thinks, if they’re still not close to finding the solution she might turn again. For Elena it’s worth it, but they don’t talk about the future much, they just enjoy every moment they spend together.
After they successfully graduate they move in to Elijah’s mansion because it feels like home, and it’s filled with memories, not much, but it’s enough to build on, and they piece their lives together to start anew.
Elena finds Bonnie to check on her and to tell her about the promise of a cure for her mother. Bonnie has had enough of the supernatural and she sends Elena away, but Rebekah is sure she will get over it in time. They visit Matt who found some normalcy in MysticFalls and settled with April Young. Matt and April are nice, they quickly accept that Elena and Rebekah are together and they spend weekends together.
Some time after that Nik finds them, and at first Rebekah fears that her brother will crash and burn her life again. When Nik finds out that Rebekah and Elena are together, he remarks that the Petrova girls have a hold on his family, and it never ends well. (Rebekah can’t decide if he’s jealous, because not only she has the doppelganger’s heart, though clearly Nik tries to hide his emotions for his long lost love, but she’s at peace now and found happiness.)
To Rebekah’s surprise, Elena is absolutely unaffected by Nik’s threats about finding the cure and slaving her into an eternal life of being a blood bag, but maybe she got used to her brother’s dramatics a long ago. But it’s more shocking how Elena can deal with Nik, and Rebekah swears Elena, too, sees the humanity in her brother, and maybe that’s why she tries and not just for Rebekah’s sake.
Even with Nik’s eccentrics, they form a family, even if not ordinary, it’s a happy one and to Rebekah it’s what matters. She finally found everything she wanted, and as she watches the stars at night, now she sees that they are not alone in the vast space, they’re always twinkling and shining at each other.
She isn’t scared anymore.