Chapter Text
"Mutual use?" Elena raises one eyebrow. If she had still been in touch with her emotions she might have scoffed derisively to cover the depth of hurt no part of her mind felt prepared to examine. As it stands she can only manage long sighs that border precariously on the edge of disappointment.
She wishes she could rely on the less dangerous scoff.
"Please! You fell for her trap just like every one of those idiots." She waves in a vague motion meant to incapsulate the entire town.
"You underestimate me, Elena." He slides a hand into his trouser pocket.
She suspects he was one of those kids that could never sit still because he always has to fiddle with something, and when there is nothing left to touch his hands retreat to his pockets.
He likes to talk with his hands too; the one she can see moves to illustrate his words and further prove her point.
"I know who she is. I know what she's done."
Everybody always falls head first for Katherine's schemes be they human, werewolf, vampire or witch. Her ancestor possesses a talent for manipulation that gets everyone bending over backwards to give her exactly what she wants. And the one thing she wants more than anything is freedom from Klaus' tyranny.
Katherine has clearly played with Elijah's emotions to dupe him into helping her.
She thought the noble brother possessed more sense.
"And you think she's changed?" She paces away, tells herself not to do it, but spins on her heels and raises her arms anyway. "She's playing you. She lied to you Elijah."
A small alarm blares in the back of her mind, somewhere in the general vicinity of the switch.
It sounds suspiciously like a security warning.
Why is she pushing him to see the truth?
She has no reason to care.
She doesn't care about anything.
"She didn't lie to me about your transformation." He steps into her personal space and stills, focusing the entirety of his attention on her. "You're not just a vampire though, are you?"
She shrugs, attempting to lower her gaze but unable to look away. Elijah is enigmatic at the best of times, but when he looks at her with everything he has she can't move.
She thinks it should be illegal to look at people like that.
"There's something else. You … you're not yourself."
Days ago she might have blushed, but her impassivity holds fast.
She doesn't feel anything.
"You've abandoned your emotions."
He always could read her.
"Why?"
"My brother's dead; your girlfriend killed him." Her blunt answer halts his breath and she almost frowns. "You didn't know?"
His eyes grow distant as betrayal turns down the corners of his mouth. In the blink of an eye he transforms into something closer to the hardened man she first met.
"Of course you didn't," she scoffs, managing it well the second time. It helps that Katherine's omission is in no way a surprise.
"She lied."
"I hate to say I told you so, but…" she pauses to lean forward and widen her eyes. "Duh."
Stefan, Damon, hell, maybe even Klaus, and she would have run then, leaving her companion gaping after her, but Elijah will follow her to the ends of the earth; assuming she makes it out of Willoughby before he catches up. The Original who values her former compassion will trail after her until he makes her remember it too… unless she obliterates his hope first.
The only problem is she's not entirely sure her current state will allow her to break him.
Instead of running she turns around and slides down the bricks, perches on the low step, wraps her arms around her knees and watches him pace, coming to terms with his most recent revelations.
He glares at the empty fish tank, feeling his anger rise higher with each bubble of air the filtration system displaces.
Rebekah lays unconscious by his knees.
Damon climbs to his feet.
"Did you even try to stop her?" He swallows the bitter taste in his mouth.
"You forgot the part where I was bobbing for boxes in vervain water," Damon gripes, slapping the side of the tank as he passes it.
"All you had to do was stall her."
"She's an Original," he rolls his eyes. "What was I supposed to do: distract her with a pony?"
"You let her take it, didn't you?" His fingernails dig into his palms.
"Bobbing for boxes in vervain water!" Damon waves at the fish tank.
Stefan ignores him as if he hadn't heard.
"You were never on my side. Now Elena will be a vampire for the rest of her life, just like you wanted. Except she's not Elena anymore, is she?"
Rebekah gasps awake, cutting off any response Damon could come up with. She sits up on the sofa with bright eyes and open mouth, ignoring her companions in favour of everything she can no longer hear.
Damon strides towards the bookshelf before he can enact revenge for her stunt that left Elena in her broken state and out of love with him.
What good was immortality without her affections?
At least human Elena would want him, and not because of a sire bond.
He moves before he can strangle Rebekah and make a worse enemy of her remaining brothers.
Saint Stefan lowers himself onto the coffee table and clasps his hands. Resting his elbows on his knees he leans forward.
The gentle motion draws her eyes up.
"How do you feel?"
Damon grinds his teeth. His hand runs over the shelf, touching worn books, ghosting over an enamel statue and then picking up a letter opener.
"I feel…" Rebekah begins in a breathless voice, pausing to take stock of her body. "I feel good. I feel great."
He can hear the damn smile in her voice.
"I feel alive."
To hell with it, he thought, I'll just blame Katherine; if she doesn't screw her way out of trouble it'll be two birds with one stone. Maybe Klaus will finally kill her.
"Slight problem with being alive," he snarks, turning as he speaks, "I can kill you."
Damon releases the letter opener. It gleams, turning end over end on the deadly journey that no human had a prayer of stopping. He is ready to toss up his arms in victory, cheering from the rooftops in a voice for the world to hear: 'the bitch is dead'.
He's ready.
He's eager.
He's not prepared for the letter opener to freeze in midair, or for Rebekah to cast him a look of disdain across the line of his chosen weapon.
She squares her shoulders, drapes herself in the superiority and privilege that comes with her age. She wears the confidence of an Original vampire, despite no longer being one.
"Have you forgotten who I am?" She sneers, rising to her feet. Her full height of 5'6" fills the room. "Let me remind that I am Rebekah bloody Mikaelson, daughter of the Original witch, and you…"
She steps around the opener, managing to tower over him in defiance of the additional three inches he holds. Her eyes slide over him, unimpressed, from head to toe.
"You are an insolent child, throwing a tantrum because you've lost your favourite toy. It's no wonder Elena doesn't want you."
"Don't talk about Elena like you know her," Damon growls, mouth firm.
"I've spent days with her, seeing exactly who she is without being torn between the two of you." Her eyes dart fast to Stefan and then back. "You treat her like some precious toy and have the gall to be upset when she decides she's had enough of your kid gloves and cuts the puppet strings. She is neither precious, nor an innocent girl. She's not a porcelain skinned princess locked in an ivory tower for the pair of you to save and fight over."
Damon clenches his fists.
"We needed the cure to bring back her humanity, Bekah."
She rolls her eyes.
"You think you can fix her, don't you?"
The brothers share a look over her head. She suspects their nods occur in unison, similar to their verbal affirmations.
"You can't fix her, you idiots. Elena is not broken, she's not a toy, and she's not made of glass. She can't go back to being your fragile little human pet."
She takes a deep breath and rocks back on her heels.
"She's a vampire now, and more importantly a woman. She will find her way in this world without you and be better off for it."
With that she spins on her heel and strides from the house.
After a beat Stefan stands, wiping his hands on his pants. "We need to find Elena. If we can't make her human we can at least make her feel."
He paces the alley with casual steps: the pace of a man before a woman, conscious that both possess all the time in the world.
His patience dictates the length of time he can carry-on: hours, days, decades. He might spend years at that steady pace until she hears him; until she listens.
Not might, she observes the set of his mouth, will.
The deliberate set of his shoulders and the power concealed in his stride whisper to Elena about the true danger of her situation. Elijah Mikaelson will utilize every ounce of his influence to resurrect the girl who died with her brother.
The oldest vampire in the world possesses power beyond her wildest dreams.
She knows she should run, but he is Elijah and she is Elena. And more than that she remains curious about his tactics.
"I know what it feels like to lose a brother."
Empathy, she presses her lips together, rolling her eyes as she turns her shoulders away. Typical… disappointing.
"And I'm sorry for the pain that led to this. I…"
"You're making this sound like my choice," she casts him a wry smile as she rises, cutting him off. She is going to stay and talk because he is Elijah and running is a colossally stupid idea, but he doesn't get to yammer on about them. She doesn't want to think about how Finn was the first casualty of war, or about Kol's unnecessary demise, nor will she allow Jeremy to darken any part of her mind.
Elijah can talk about anything else, but not them.
"Sometimes it can feel like grief makes the choice for you," he concedes, bracing a shoulder against the rough brick.
"You don't know anything about me, unsurprising," she sighs, with emotions it might sound sad or snide, or rife with accusation, "since you've been busy with Katherine. You don't know anything; you probably haven't even looked in my direction."
His mouth pops open to explain his absence, but she doesn't need his words. She stopped being human and he ceased to care: it's as simple as that.
"I didn't choose this, Elijah," she continues, voice hollow as she motions to her face. "Maybe you didn't hear about my sire bond."
"Elena," his eyes widen, flooding with horror.
She thinks of her tears and soul wracking sobs.
"I was drowning, and rather than offer comfort Damon chose this," she gestures to her impassive face again. "He forced his decision on me like he always does, and now he and Stefan are desperate to fix me. They think the human they loved is still in here somewhere."
"You can't blame them for having hope, Elena," he sighs, swallows.
"You're just as bad as them," she shakes her head, "searching for that sweet little peasant girl you fell in love with. Newsflash: she's dead, and has been for centuries."
"Do you not think that occurred to me?" He arches an eyebrow. "What kind of man would I be if I didn't try to find Katerina under the Katherine facade? Or you behind this wall you've erected?"
"A sensible one," she steps toward him, tipping her head up. "You can't find Katerina any more than Damon and Stefan can fix me."
"Of course they can't fix you," he scoffs at the idea, "you're not broken Elena; you're lost."
He and Rebekah seem the only ones capable of seeing her, but that doesn't make him correct on all counts.
"I am not lost," she crosses her arms and spins.
"You are," Elijah reasons, catching her elbow. His broad chest brushes her shoulders, anchoring her to his body. The gentle tone comes millimetres from her ear. "You are lost. I only hope one day you find your way back to yourself."
Warm, strong, and every bit a man who by all accounts cares for her, or at the damn least had at one point; with emotions and that pesky little crush the physical contact might affect her on a deeper level. Emotionless, her tongue remains untied.
"If I turn it back on I go back to being that helpless girl. And I'm done being some pawn for everyone to push around. I won't go back to Damon and Stefan's pedestal so they can dictate the rest of my life. It's my life, and nobody else is going to tell me how to live it."
"Careful, Elena," her hair tickles her ear, "you almost sound angry."
Pushing buttons, her eyes widen, marginally impressive.
"I don't care," she turns, momentarily faltering when she realizes how close they stand. Her lips tingle.
He smirks, seeing her eyes fall to his mouth.
"Once the cure is out of the picture, I'm gone," she exhales looking up.
"I see," he nods, cupping her elbows. "Might I propose something Elena?"
"Why? What makes you think I'll listen to you?"
He chuckles, eyes alight with amusement.
"A number of reasons. One, you were raised to be polite. Two, despite my ability to do so I have not forcefully returned your emotions. And three," he touches the tips of his fingers to her cheek, "it has been sometime since we struck a bargain, and, like me, I suspect you miss our deals."
She tilts her head, feels her eyebrows raise and half leans into him before correcting the action and shifting back on her heels to place an extra inch of space between their bodies.
"You want to make a deal?"
He must hear the true question in her voice.
"Nobody can outrun their humanity forever…"
"Wanna bet?" She smirks.
"You would lose," his brows lower, "I have been around a lot longer than you, Elena. Eventually something will happen to trigger the return of your emotions, or you'll go centuries feeling nothing before figuring out that the switch does not truly exist. I would like nothing more than for you to be spared the pain I know will come to you."
"You want to save me pain?" She scoffs. "Where was that attitude when you betrayed me at the ritual, or left me underground with your sister?"
"I am not without flaws," his thumbs press into the soft skin of her inner elbows. "I have done things I abhor in the name of saving my family, actions that at times have left me feeling physically sick. Perhaps I was wrong to assume you understood my stance."
"I never said I didn't understand you Elijah. I just don't believe that you want to spare me pain." After Finn and Kol she expected he wanted to cause her nothing but pain. Of course he might be looking beyond the obvious and rightfully placing the blame for his younger brother on the sire bond and therefore Damon.
"I wish to spare you pain Elena," he stares unblinkingly into her eyes, speaking so earnestly she can't help but believe him; had she not been sneaking vervain the last few days she might have suspected compulsion. "It would be a shame if the world lost a soul as compassionate at yours."
She draws a slow breath into her lungs and exhales, summoning to the forefront of her mind a letter penned in an ancient hand.
"'Your compassion is a gift Elena'", she quotes, tilting her head. "I remember reading that in a letter once."
"The writer sounds positively inspired," the corner of his mouth quirks up. "I'm sure he meant what he wrote."
"I'm sure he did," she nods, expression hardening around the eyes. "And it felt good to watch that letter burn, along with my old life and along with Jeremy's body."
Shock ripples through him, but rather than release her arms as she thought he would he spins her to the side. She hears a loud crack and take stock of her body, half expecting the sound to have come from one of her bones. Except nothing hurts, and by the time she turns it's to find Elijah shaking his head over Katherine's body.
"What did you do that for?" She crouches, inspecting the awkward angle of her doppelgänger's neck.
"We're not through," he replies, holding out a hand to help her up. "You and I have some unfinished business."
Deals, she accepts the unneeded aid, should have seen that one coming.
"I'll listen," she sighs, keeping her eyes on Katherine. Can she get away with trodding on her ancestor's face? Maybe she can crush a few fingers underfoot. "That doesn't mean I'll accept."
"I think you will."
It's the calm assurance in his voice that draws her eyes back to him.
"You don't want to turn into her," he slips his hands into his pockets and casually leans against the cool bricks, "and if you run with the Salvatore's on your heels, eventually, between glances over your shoulder, you'll start to change. When you begin to feel again you won't like the person you see in the mirror."
"I evaded my father for the better part of a millennia. In that time I became adept at laying false trails."
"I see," she hums, "and what do I have to do in exchange?" The only bargaining chip in her arsenal had been her doppelgänger blood, but he had never desired it; even if he had that blood is useless now.
"Go," he chuckles in the face of her confusion. "Go and figure out who you want to be now. I shall ensure you're not followed on one condition: you do not kill unless absolutely necessary."
She presses her lips together and tilts her head, searching his face for any sign of deception.
"I have no ulterior motives, Elena," he straightens, reaching one hand out. His knuckles skim the air along her throat, paused above her heart and never crossing the barrier to touch her skin. "One day you'll feel again, and I don't want you standing atop a pile of bodies when it happens."
Her eyes flicker over his face. She chews over her words before speaking.
"I suppose bodies do leave a trail that's easy to follow. How do I know you'll do as you say?" She blinks.
"I suppose you'll have to take my word for it," he chuckles.
She almost smiles, but catches herself.
"How do you know I'll keep up my end?"
"I trust you Elena," he extracts a plain card from his jacket pocket and holds it up between his knuckles, "and I trust you'll keep in touch. One message every couple months so I'm kept abreast of your current state and know where not to lead them."
She takes the black card, flipping it over. Neat letters spells out Elijah Smith above a phone number and email address that he must use primarily for business.
"Do we have a deal?"
She thumbs the corner of the card, and examines each letter. The deal sounds excellent; aside from Katherine's taste in clothes she has no desire to emulate her doppelgänger. And he's right, she'll slowly change until she's as paranoid as her ancestor.
Really, it requires no thought.
"Deal." She places the card in her jacket pocket.
"Wonderful," he nods. "I'll be needing your ring."
"Excuse me?" Her eyes widen, darting to the sunlight on either side of the alley. A single step backwards and she'll be engulfed in it.
"Your ring," he repeats. "It was created by Miss Bennett, and can therefore be tracked by her. Leading the Salvatore's astray will only work until they approach her for help, and because she loves you she'll do as they ask. You can't take the ring with you."
"I can't leave without it." She cradles her right hand. "I'll be a sitting duck here until dark."
"I have no intention of trapping you Elena," he smiles. "Trust me?"
Elena sucks in a breath and chews on her cheeks. She counts his heartbeats, slipping off her ring when she gets to three. It falls into his open palm.
He crouches and lifts Katherine's limp hand, sliding the ring in place on her right ring finger. Then he reaches for her left hand and rises with a silver bracelet.
She feels a modicum of disappointment when Katherine, laying half in the sunlight, doesn't immediately burst into flames. The daylight ring rule doesn't seem to apply to doppelgängers.
He extends the bracelet, snapping it in place.
"Well, isn't this cozy?"
Elena tears her eyes from his gaze, feeling her mouth turn down at the sight of Rebekah. The blonde sags under the weight of her proud shoulders; she leans heavily on the bricks, letting her eyes rake over her brother and down to Katherine.
"I suppose I should have believed her, but I thought you had more sense." Her voice comes out airy: breathless.
"Rebekah?" Elena steps into the light, eyes falling to the Original's trembling hand. "What happened?"
She follows Elena's gaze and clenches her hand, concealing the weakness.
"Damon," she laughs, a note of hysteria on the name, "tried to kill me."
Elijah comes to stand at her side.
"What have you done?" He holds his sister's arm.
"What have I done?" She breaks into a fit of giggles, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth.
"She's human," Elena tilts her head. "I suppose that means the cure's taken care of." She holds her hands behind her back, glancing toward Elijah. "I think she's in shock, or experiencing an anxiety attack. You might want to lay her down and elevate her legs."
"No," Rebekah sucks in a deep breath, managing to control her laughter but not her compulsive shaking, "no, I'm fine. You… you should run though," she extracts a set of keys from her pocket, "they're close."
She accepts the keys, vanishing after one final look with Elijah.
"Katherine Pierce?" Rebekah asks, hours later when her tremors are under control before the brunette can wake up. "I thought you were the smart brother."
"You don't have a smart brother," Elijah sighs, leaning against the hood of his car. His ears listen for the first signs of life. "I believed her lies and came to negotiate with her. I'm as stupid as the rest of you."
"Stupider, I'd say," she muses, inspecting her nails, "if I were you I wouldn't have let her go."
"I never let her go, she ran from Niklaus."
"I'm not talking about Katherine." From the corner of her eye she catches his shift. Knowing his eyes are focused on her, she snorts. "You're a bloody idiot."
"What do you want from me?" He flips his wrist around, checks his watch.
"Just admit you never wanted her," Rebekah slips off her daylight ring, twisting the useless trinket between her fingers. She waits a short eternity for her brother to speak and shakes her head when he doesn't. Whether he realizes it or not his silences speak greater volumes than any words.
"Pathetic."
For a brief instant he stands in a hospital parking lot, squared off against his enraged baby sister.
"I couldn't make her stay, Rebekah," he straightens, snaps back to the present as Katherine's neck heals. "Had I forced her to feel she would resent me for the rest of eternity."
The doppelgänger sits up with a gasp, hands flying to her neck.
"Katerina."
She swings her legs around, spinning on the bench. Her furtive eyes dart from one Mikaelson to the other before scanning the immediate surroundings.
"I wouldn't run," Rebekah braces her hands on the hood of the car. "Even you must know when you're beaten."
"You drank my bargaining chip?" Her eyes narrow.
"Did you expect I wouldn't?" Rebekah raises an eyebrow.
Elijah knows without looking that a smirk stretches across his sister's face.
"I expected Stefan and Damon to talk you out of it, affording me time to reclaim it before it could be used," she snaps. Her eyes fall to her lightened wrist and quickly zero in on a ring. "Where's my bracelet?"
"I can honestly say I have no idea," Elijah approaches her bench. "Though I can understand if the concept of honesty is foreign to you. You killed Jeremy Gilbert."
She exhales a resigned sigh, eyes flitting towards Rebekah. The blonde shakes her head.
"A bombshell I'm sure little Elena just couldn't wait to drop on you. Ironic, since she supposedly doesn't care about anything."
"I care," he lifts his chin.
"He was collateral damage Elijah," she rolls her eyes, "I did what I needed to in order to survive."
"I suppose that's what I am to you as well," he lifts an eyebrow. "Another means of survival?"
"Obviously," Rebekah snorts, reaching for her purse as it vibrates.
"Don't let them get to you," she tilts her head. "Elena and Rebekah hate me; they want you to turn against me."
"I asked you a question."
For a second the world stills and her eyes widen.
"No," she inhales slowly, finding her voice as her heart skips a beat, "of course not. Do you believe me?"
"Every word out of your mouth is a deception," he shakes his head. "That makes this a little easier."
"What…" she cuts off when his hand grasps her chin and finds herself unable to break from his gaze.
"You are Elena Gilbert, and you will run, keeping one step ahead of the Salvatore brothers at all times. Now forget I compelled you and hurry off before they spot you."
She vanishes in a blur of movement.
"That's rather clever of you," Rebekah pulls out her cell phone.
"After everything we put Elena through, creating a false lead is the least I can do."
"Right, that's why you're doing it," she nods, answering the call. "What do you want, Nik?"
"An update on our search for the elusive cure."
She exchanges a look with her brother, mulling over how to put things into words. "Let's just say that things have gotten complicated. Why don't you speak to one of those complications? Here."
Elijah cocks an eyebrow, but takes the phone anyway.
"Complication speaking."
"Big brother, at last you join the fray."
"Somebody had to take charge," he smirks, catching her eyes, "although I'll admit to being late. There is a far larger complication than I."
"Do you have the cure or not?"
"I have it, and I am bringing it back to Mystic Falls," he unlocks his car, opening the passenger door for Rebekah, "though you should be aware it now resides within our sister."
Elijah shuts the door and rounds to the driver's side, continuing before his Klaus can interrupt.
"You have six hours to throw a temper tantrum. I will have you calm when I arrive with our now human sister."
He hangs up and starts the car.
"How did you survive Damon's attempt to kill you?" He puts the car in gear and cruises down the street. "I am thrilled you are not dead, but I don't understand."
"Mother spent years attempting to bring out magic in me," she fastens her seatbelt, conscious suddenly of her own vulnerability, "turns out it just took fear for my life."