Title: i’m always right (but what’s your perception)
Fandom: tvd
Rating: teen
Length: ~7k words
Author notes: canon au 2x20, title from wolf pack by the vaccines, some gore, and a few lines from dickinson

Elena drinks the elixir, prepared for a gross taste. She’s seen Bonnie do magic before, and it’s not all floating feathers and golden rays of light. There’s probably blood, animal parts she doesn’t want to consider, and who knows what else would go into a resuscitation potion. And on top of all that, it’s around five hundred years old.

She isn’t prepared for the taste of musty water.

Elena finishes it, blinking quickly and forcing a smile. She shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up when Elijah brought it out a moment ago. (She already accepted death, this time is harder.)

“Well, well, isn’t this cozy.” Klaus says, walking into the Salvatore boarding house. “My doppelganger, her lackeys, and my allegedly honorable brother- not planning another escape are you?”

“Niklaus, you have my word- she is safe. Let her have her last day.”

Klaus laughs loudly, “You’re still so weak for her face. And why wait? So these two idiots can turn her? History won’t be repeating itself.” He snatches up Elena before she can blink, flashing away.

Everything is a blur of colors, her stomach swooping, and she shuts her eyes. Elena doesn’t open them until it stops, grateful she didn’t puke. She abruptly realizes that Klaus is carrying her bridal style, has brought her back to his mansion, and she’s dying in less than twenty-four hours.

“You could’ve let me say goodbye,” she says, and it comes out petulant rather than scathing.

He drops her, Elena catching herself on his shoulders before falling, glaring at him. She backs up, calves hitting a couch and nearly making her fall again, sitting down.

Klaus’s lips twitch. “I am your benevolent host, your friends may visit one by one. Nothing untoward of course.”

She reaches for her pocket, frowning, “My phone isn’t here.”

“Oh well, such a shame.”

She crosses her arms, she’s dying anyways, can push for one last thing. “I want Stefan.”

“A vampire to spring you free? Try again.”

“Half of my friends are vampires!”

“Not my problem love, have less dangerous friends.”

“Jeremy.”

“The wannabe hunter with a ring that protects him from death? I think not.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I refuse to risk anything happening to you now until moonrise. Now, if you have a nice compellable human friend, AB negative preferred, they can visit.”

Her stomach drops out, it’s far too easy to imagine Matt strewn across the room, blood dripping down Klaus’s face-

“No.”

“A pity,” he answers with a grin. “I suppose we’ll have to settle for a vine vintage.”

“If I write letters, will they get them?” Elena asks suddenly, and perhaps that’s an even better last conversation- carefully considered and one-sided.

Klaus raises an eyebrow, “As opposed to what? Me boxing them up and keeping such drivel? By all means.”

He pauses in the doorway, asking, “Red or white?”

“White,” she says, has had more than enough of red in her life.

It feels like she can breathe again when he leaves, looking around the sitting room. Besides the couch, there isn’t much in the room at all. There’s a desk in the corner, an oversized mirror with it, and an empty easel on the opposite side.

She’s trying to decide if it’s minimalism or something is deliberately missing from the room when he returns. Klaus hands her a bottle of Chardonnay, and some stationary that must be Elijah’s.

“Unfortunately tonight’s plans need some rearranging.”

“I’m available next month.”

Klaus barks out a laugh, “Cute, but unnecessary. I’ll be downstairs. Scream if you need anything.”

Eyes twinkling he grins at her, and she wants to throw the damn bottle at his face. He disappears in a blink, and Elena opens up the white. How the hell he even knew she hated Chardonnay is beyond her, but she isn’t doing this sober.

Two glasses later and the stationary is still pristine. His words keep echoing, twisting and taunting her (a second opinion is only a scream away) and she doesn’t know what to write. Elena doesn’t want to write the wrong thing or too much of the right thing, have them hang onto her memory too long. She wants them all to move on, better yet move out of Mystic Falls. But Bonnie’s father is here, and Caroline’s mother, Matt’s mother sometimes, Tyler’s mother- and Jeremy fuck.

She doesn’t write anything.

.

None of her family or friends are at the clearing. Only the two originals, the two other sacrifices, and the witch. Elena doesn’t know how Elijah managed it, but she’s grateful, nodding in his direction. Doubtless there would have been some harebrained scheme to kill Klaus and it would have ended in far more bloodshed than was needed. (She looks at the unfamiliar werewolf and vampire, grateful and apologetic at once.)

Flames dance around her, and it would be so easy to lose herself in them. To distract herself from the horror of what is happening. Elena forces herself to meet the werewolf’s eyes, to be her last witness. The werewolf is talking about Tyler, and it hits her as she crumples that this must be Jules.

She blinks quickly, throat dry. Tyler’s already lost so much, and the one person that was helping him with his wolf side-. She stops the thought in its tracks; at least it wasn’t Tyler.

The vampire tries to run, and Klaus catches her by the heart, murmuring something too low for Elena to hear.

It’s her turn.

The flames die, and she walks up to him as if in a trance. Her movements don’t feel her own, and this is it.

He says something, but the words don’t register. His fingers brush her hair off her neck, a deceitfully light kiss placed first. And then sharp pain crushes into her, so much worse than any other bite. This isn’t to feed or kill quickly, but to steadily drain her of everything.

She thought she’d lose consciousness by now, pain thrumming in her neck, and her eyes meet Elijah’s one last time. He looks uncomfortable, almost sad in his three-piece, and if she had the throat she might laugh. Can’t help but wonder how many girls with her face he’s seen die. If he killed any of them.

Gallows humor, she thinks, if his brother- oh god she hops Jeremy will be okay. And how could-

.

Elena’s eyes snap open when she hears a door slam.

“It was everything I’ve waited a millennia for.”

“Indeed. Our siblings?”

“Aren’t you going to check on your sleeping beauty fetish? I’m amazed it doesn’t smell like a corpse in here or worse-”

“Our siblings, Niklaus.”

“Very well, a drink before we go. It’s a long journey.”

Footsteps, a bottle opening, and Elena is instantly overcome with hunger. Her feet carry her to them in a blink, hands snatching the bottle away and gulping it down. The taste barely hits her, rich copper with a hint of anise.

“How curious,” Klaus remarks, eyes glittering. “You told me neither of the brothers gave her blood Elijah.”

He straightens a cuff as Elena finishes the bottle, licking the last bits of blood from her lips. “They did not.”

Klaus’s hand shoots out, gripping his throat tight, “You dare.”

Elijah shakes his hand off, “I gave her the elixir. Nothing more. Calm yourself.”

Klaus chuckles, brushing off his shoulder, and tossing him a pair of keys. “The driver knows where they are. Do me a favor and don’t wake the old dullard.”

“Our entire family has been boxed for too long.”

Klaus rolls his eyes, “Don’t come crying to me when Finn discovers some ritual to end his pathetic existence forever.”

Elena nearly growls as Elijah opens his mouth to debate more. She’s sure these two immortals could argue for days, doesn’t have the patience for this. (The old her would have. And she doesn’t like how easy it is to spot a difference already besides the stillness in her chest.)

“Niklaus you can’t-”

“I’m still hungry.”

Both of the Originals turn to her, and Elena looks to Klaus. “Where is the blood kept?”

He smiles, “The reserves are in the basement love, we’ll start there.”

“I must protest at-”

“Elijah,” Klaus interrupts, doesn’t need to say anything more.

“Very well. I shall return with the others. Congratulations Elena.”

She thanks him, and Klaus leads her downstairs. “This was stocked for my youngest siblings. Their appetites are quite voracious. There’s only so many times you can decimate a population before humans avoid a place, and it’d be a pity for our hometown to be abandoned.”

Elena chokes on nothing, but the hunger keeps her tongue quiet. She doesn’t want to hurt anyone, doesn’t think she could control herself around a person right now. (Wasn’t the blood supposed to slake her hunger? Her belly only aches more, throat painfully dry.)

“Perhaps you’ve heard of the little colony in North Carolina? My sister’s always had a flair for the dramatics.”

Her eyebrows come together, and really public education hasn’t done her many favors. Or the latest supernatural drama being so much more intriguing than homework. “Are you… do you mean Roanoke?”

“Thus the reserves,” Klaus says, hitting the light switch.

Elena’s eyes are wide as she looks around the chilled basement. There’s shelves upon shelves lined with wine bottles, years and regions listed. It should make her sick, it should make her scream.

“Germany 1300s, this whole section is from the Black Death,” he says, gesturing to a few rows.

Her mind reels, but when he opens and offers the bottle, she takes it, downing it in a blink. He pushes her hair behind her ear, grabbing a new one from beside her.

“Try sipping it slowly this time,” Klaus says, handing her the second bottle. Or is it the third now- should she be keeping track from the first moment? Will it even be possible to properly atone with this beating hunger in her gums?

(She hasn’t even tried animal blood.)

.

After the first row her hunger cools. It’s still there, lurking in the back of her mouth, but it isn’t all-consuming. Then she begins to remember, Damon claiming he loves her, Damon finding her all alone on the road. Of how close she must have been to death or worse then, wearing Katherine’s face and breathing.

She drinks through a second row.

.

“Four hundred and fifty-three,” Klaus says when she finishes. “What a coincidence, the same amount of people I ate in that dreary logging county before setting it alight.”

“What?”

“The Cloquet fire, your education is a fright love.”

“No, I- wouldn’t one person make like ten bottles?” She couldn’t have had over four thousand bottles of blood. Not so quickly or with so little moral quandary. Not when only half was out of hunger, and the other half out of a need to suppress.

“That you take me for such a commoner, it wounds me, deeply. Each bottle is exquisitely crafted, boiled down until the flavor is most potent, a touch of local spices, a dab of magic on the cork for preservation.”

Elena looks back at the now empty rows, imagining hundreds of peasants, all dead and drained. She is a monster. There’s no denying it. She didn’t even try another way, didn’t ask questions, just drank and drank and drank.

Would it have even made a difference if they were breathing people? Elena likes to think it would have, likes to think she could have stopped herself. But she’s fairly certain she should be locked down here, kept away from the innocent.

Maybe the Petrova story always ends the same: death and monstrosity.

.

Klaus leaves for a few days, telling her to remain in the house. It isn’t as if she needs the reminder, all too aware what he might do to her brother or friends. Or worse- what she might do. Elena doesn’t want to keep ducking around windows though, or worse, simply stay in the basement depleting a life per bottle. (There’s a second basement she finds by mistake when exploring, for the other side of the house. It’s a more traditional wine cellar, filled with non-human spirits.)

Maybe she’s been cooped up for too long- and how is it that the time stretches so much more now that she’s alone and safe- but when she finds a woman’s wardrobe it feels like permission. It must be for Klaus’ sister, or something worse she’d rather not consider. Elena finds an outfit that looks like Katherine would wear it: skinny jeans, heeled boots, a low-cut tank top, and an assortment of jewelry.

There’s no hair curler, but the humidity has made her hair wavier than usual, and hopefully that will do the trick. (Hopefully no one will even see her, there’s a reason this is planned for two in the morning.)

The plan goes off without a snag. No one stops or sees her as she makes her way to her house. It’s all going well until she hits the threshold and can’t pass.

Fuck.

She’s a hitched breath away from snapping, of course this is the moment her heart decides to try beating again. (There’s a reason you need an invitation, a reason this isn’t your home anymore, weren’t you planning on letting Jeremy think you were dead, how would you feel if-)

Jer sneezes himself awake, window cracked open and allergies getting to him.

Elena is gone before he can get up for a glass of water.

.

There’s an odd relief almost in pretending to be Katherine. In becoming fearless and self-centered. A survivalist, and donning her skin used to feel like playing dress up. (The costume jewelry has turned to jewels, and she’s grown into the dress.)

Stalking through her old high school, she digs into the role. She has to pass her old locker turned memorial, and Katherine’s much better equipped for that, keeps her eyes dry.

Isobel’s necklace is tucked behind a bottle of bourbon and a well folded photograph. She takes it with the bourbon, wants Ric to think some kid took his stash. Slipping the necklace into her pocket, she leaves, feeling lighter. (Halfway done, the town’s almost safe again.)

The bourbon goes down the sink, bottle in the trash and really, a little sobriety might be good for Ric. He’s all Jeremy has left and-

Katherine.

She is Katherine.

She flings the front doors open, empty dramatics- only the parking lot isn’t empty. Damon stands in the middle, not a single car parked, and the new memories surge up her throat like bile. Katherine, she repeats, her new mantra- Katherine wouldn’t flinch or run. (Well, not unless threatened. Or for dramatic effect. Certainly not because of a vampire she turned.)

Damon speeds up to her, “Kitty Kat you can’t be here, we already threw the bitch is gone party.”

It’s too easy to reach for the insult, knows which one Katherine would go for first. “Lurking around the high school now that the fragile human’s dead? Pathetic.”

“Don’t talk about her.”

“About wannabe me? Okay.” She softens her voice, not her eyes, leaning in, “You should really get out of Mystic Falls Damon.”

“I’m not afraid of- I’m not afraid.”

“You can start somewhere new, somewhere no one knows who you are.”

His lips curl back, “Speaking from experience then?”

Elena lets Katherine take over, is far too close to saying something damning. “Maybe you’ll even find yourself a girl that wants you instead of your brother.”

Damon’s hand flies up, and Elena catches it by the wrist, snapping it backwards with a loud crack.

He groans, and she drops the limb. “The truth hurts Damon. Give my love to Stefan.”

She runs away, doesn’t stop running until she’s back in the Mikaelson mansion. Locking herself in the first bathroom, she crumples on the floor, leaning against the porcelain tub and sobbing into her hands. She hurt him, said too much and a volatile Damon is a violent Damon, and who knows who he’ll go after. Who ever dies at his hands tonight- she provoked it, she provoked it knowing how he would react. (All to keep a cover that she doesn’t even want, but she wants to drag the corpse of her previous life around even less.)

She’s so much worse than Katherine ever was.

.

Elena’s in the library when Klaus returns the next day. She has a bottle of blood on the table, has been practicing drinking in moderation. (It’s easier now, almost ridiculously so. As if having Klaus around dropped her inhibitions or made her drunk or there was something wrong with how she turned, how she needed to consume so much.) She’s been rereading Dickinson, trying to get lost in the words, out of her head. A Charm invests a face, and that rings too true to continue. Because I could not stop for Death – He kindly stopped for me – and Elena nearly hurls the book across the room. It’s only the arrival that stays her hand, closing the book instead, and standing.

“You’re back.”

“Miss me darling?” He asks with a grin, approaching her. “Fear not, I won’t be- is that the late Isobel’s necklace?” His fingers reach for it, burning against her sternum. The overwhelming heat is an all too warm reminder of his new hybrid status, of what she died for.

Elena bites back a comment about how that lateness came about, “Yes.”

“You carried it on you? I must confess I thought you’d be glad to see her burn.”

“She was my birth mother,” Elena snaps, and Klaus smirks at the qualification.

“Precisely.”

“I got it last night,” she says, not sure why she’s admitting this to him. As if Klaus cares about-

“You left the house?”

She’s taken aback at the intensity in his voice, “It was two in the morning. I was careful, I swear. Only Damon saw me, and he thought I was Katherine. You don’t have to- I promise, he thought it was Katherine.”

Klaus laughs suddenly, dropping down into one of the chairs. “I’ve never been thankful Katerina ran before.”

Elena sits slowly, trying to figure it out, but missing an essential piece. “But you are now…?”

“Oh Elena,” he says, leaning in to cup her face. “This is your gift as the one that freed me. You can’t be compelled because you have no sire. You are the last Original, the last Petrova.”

Her eyes go wide, can’t help the reaction. She’s safe, really safe this time. (There’s everyone else of course, but to have this luxury- safety of mind and body- this must be how gods feel.)

His gaze circles her face as if it is new to him, and she nearly laughs at the fanciful thought. There is no one else in the world that knows her face so well, that has thought of or chased it for so long. “The line could not have a better apogee, and you are everlasting.”

(She’s safe, she’s really safe. The thought will always be an indulgent relief.)

.

A few bottles of blood later- and she thinks of Lexi whenever her morals come crawling back, this blood’s already collected, isn’t doing more harm- and Klaus tells her he’s having a witch problem.

Elena’s back straightens, and she hopes he didn’t find out Bonnie’s still alive. “Your witch that lifted the curse, she doesn’t know how to fix it?”

He smiles ruefully, “She might. But I had to kill her and desecrate the remains, dear Greta knew too much of my curse.”

Elena shakes her head, “Why did you- surely she wouldn’t have turned on you? After everything she did, for you to- how could you?”

“Witches can’t be compelled, and someone would have forced her to talk eventually. She knew the end that awaited her.”

“H-how could she have and still helped you?” Elena blurts out, and how young she looks in memory.

“Why did you?”

“That was different, my family- my friends- they were in danger.”

“Was that all?” he asks, leaning in closer, close enough to count his eyelashes. “Not even the tiniest bit of you wanted to be in the spell that was hundreds of years in the making? To be in one of the largest magical feats, ever? To be assured your place in history?”

“No.”

Klaus shrugs, pulling away. “Witches are different.”

“Right,” Elena says slowly. “Do you have a backup witch then?”

He shakes a hand, “More than I need. But the best one can only practice in New Orleans.”

“Okay?”

“Unless you’d rather stay?”

“No!” Elena says too quickly, realizing too late that he’s teasing her.

“And here I thought I’d have to threaten all your little friends and family again to get you to leave.”

“Tell me about this New Orleans witch.”

His eyes are far too amused, clearly seeing through her demand, but he indulges her. He tells her tales of Gloria, his favorite witch. Of how she crafted spells to stretch out her aging, how much hatred she carries, how she isn’t afraid to submerge her hands in a body to get results. (Real magic, Klaus says with a disturbing amount of relish, is nine-tenths twisted entrails and one part chanting.)

His chatter fills up the trip to NOLA, and Elena isn’t even slightly surprised that Klaus can monologue for nearly a day. It’d be more endearing if it wasn’t for their history- not that Elena’s noticing things like that. (That she thinks of Stefan a moment later, hits her hard. Before she never wanted to be a vampire, but she remembers thinking that at least they’d be together. And now- now she’s letting him believe her dead just like Katherine, just like-)

“Then I had anal intercourse with all of the nuns and told them it didn’t count against chastity.”

“What!” Elena yelps, wide eyed.

Klaus tsks her, “I knew you weren’t listening. Besides lovers of Catholic school girls everywhere should be thanking me.”

“I really hope you’re joking.”

“I am,” he says, Elena’s mind easing. “They’re empowered young women, they don’t need to thank me for it.”

She groans, turning up the radio. It might be classical, but maybe if it’s loud enough she can get the images out of her head.

.

“Shall we unpack now or later?” Klaus says once they arrive.

Elena’s too taken by the house to process the question quickly. It seems even larger than the one back in Mystic Falls, and she can’t imagine what’s even in the U-haul. (Hunger flickers in her throat as she thinks of the entire basement packed away, but surely it wouldn’t fit.)

“What did you bring?” she asks.

He opens the back, “Mostly paintings, some odds and ends.”

“And you’re unpacking?” Elena says, disbelieving.

“I did intend to call a minion, but you little minx, you distracted me.”

She rolls her eyes, and then notices a person passed out on a couch. Darting forwards, she gasps when she recognizes him. “Tyler! What did you do to him?”

“He’ll be fine,” Klaus says dismissively, heading inside.

Elena mutters about elitist hybrids under her breath, easily lifting Tyler up and bringing him into the house with her. It’s weird that she can tell he’s heavier than he should be- all the werewolf muscle- and yet still as effortless as carrying a Chihuahua. (A comparison that she will never tell Tyler she made.)

She sets him on a couch, propping his head up on a pillow. “What did you do to him?” Elena repeats, can’t fully keep the worry out of her voice even though she can hear his steady heartbeat.

“Just a little sleeping spell. He’s going to be my first successful hybrid, can’t have him running back to Mystic Falls.”

“Can’t you test it on another werewolf first?” Elena asks, hating that she means it. (When did strangers’ lives start meaning so little to her? Before or after she became a vampire?)

“I have.”

The soft answer knocks the breath out of her, and Elena’s eyes meet his. “You can’t kill Tyler. Not unless you know it will work.”

“No need to fret love, Gloria will figure it out.”

Elena frowns, pushing Tyler’s hair back, the witch better.

.

“Gloria claims if Tyler drinks from you to transition, he will survive.”

Elena’s sure it’s true the moment he says it. It makes sense- she was sacrificed to get Klaus his hybrid side, a double check that he can’t create any hybrids of his own. Only there was the elixir, and here she is.

She nods, can’t say it.

Klaus nicks his wrist open, holding Tyler’s mouth with his other hand, and blood dripping directly down his throat. Once he swallows, Klaus snaps his neck, and Elena can’t help a wince. It’s better than Tyler being awake for it, but still.

Klaus takes a nearby chair, sprawling out. “And now the thrilling wait.”

Elena moves, joining Tyler on the couch and placing his head in her lap. It’s a terrible thing to wake up from death, the least she can do is offer him some small comfort.

Her fingers slide through his hair, over and over. She remembers back when they were the coolest kids in school. Tenth grade, before either accident, back when the scariest thing was one of her parents finding her drunk at a party.

Tyler was her favorite drinking companion- he was always down to dance, down to laugh, and made the best mixed drinks. If it wasn’t for Matt, she’s sure they would have ended up together at some point. (Or maybe the right phrasing is if it wasn’t for Stefan.) Even Bonnie commented on it once, with an all too knowing raised eyebrow, and she’d stammered something out about them being party friends only.

Mrs. Lockwood made a comment to her once about a Founding Families event, how good they’d look together, if they just-

Tyler’s eyes flutter open, and Elena smiles, blinking quickly. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

Tyler’s eyebrows come together, “Weird as fuck. Almost like-” Tyler glances around, sentence fading. “Where are we?”

“New Orleans my young chap.”

“Am I- I don’t have a heartbeat. Elena, what’s going on?”

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re in transition.” Elena offers her wrist, “Drink my blood and you’ll be okay.”

Tyler doesn’t hesitate, biting into her wrist and gulping down the blood. She bites the insides of her cheeks, but really the pain isn’t that bad. It has nothing on her last bite, and she looks up to see all of Klaus’s attention on them. (Of course, she reminds herself, this is his first hybird.)

Tyler’s eyes flash all white before returning to their usual hue, and Elena doesn’t like it. Not that she knows how a hybrid’s transformation is supposed to go, but it feels off.

“You should rest,” Elena says.

“Rest?” Klaus echoes, incredulous. “He’s been resting all day. We should go for a run outside.”

Tyler sits up slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m uh, actually pretty wiped.”

“Fine, fine the empire can begin tomorrow. Not like it’s been thousands of years in the making-”

“Precisely,” Elena interrupts.

He snorts out a laugh, “Very well. There are a dozen rooms upstairs, pick one.”

Tyler gives her a quick hug before he goes, and Elena’s heart is warmed. She should hug everyone more, it’s like- oh. Oh dear.

Elena holds her wrist up, the skin molted and gross where Tyler bit her. She vaguely remembers Stefan telling her about werewolf bites being dangerous, and she supposes that’s another way to neatly close the hybid creation loophole.

Klaus sits next to her, is waving a bleeding appendage before her face. “Hurry up. The venom won’t kill you but I did discover that my blood heals werewolf bites. The last thing we need is a delirious baby vampire on the loose.”

Elena drinks from him, and it feels like liquid fire is roaring through her veins. She feels warm and alive and infinite. She cradles his arm closer, sucking everything she can down before he stops her. (She could drain every drop of blood from him, and dazedly it hits her that this is the first time she’s drinking blood from another person as a vampire.)

He takes his wrist away, and she nearly goes for his mouth instead, stopping herself at the last moment.

She jumps away, cheeks burning, “I need- good night.”

Klaus’s smile is too big, “Good night Elena.”

.

Tyler doesn’t get out of bed in the morning. There’s a gray tint to his skin that has Elena ready to scream. The transition was supposed to be the hard part- not what came after.

It turns out that this house doesn’t have a stocked cellar, and seven gallons of blood later, Tyler still looks like he might desiccate and there’s not a sip of blood left inside. Klaus leaves to see the witch, says he’ll send a minion back with a snack.

Sitting with Tyler, Elena doesn’t care that the snack is probably alive. Would rend this new place to pieces to make sure Tyler is okay. (A cynical voice in the back of her mind says she’s put all of her Mystic Falls feelings on him, but it feels simultaneously less and more than that.)

Gray is crawling up Tyler’s throat, he doesn’t even look when the errand boy shows up with a screaming girl. Elena frowns, compelling the girl to go to sleep.

“You- what’s your name?”

“Jordan ma’am.”

She’d laugh at the address if Tyler wasn’t ill, is doubtlessly far younger than this vampire. “Jordan thank you. Please wait in the hall, we may need more.”

He nods and leaves, Elena carrying the girl to Tyler. She bites her neck open, and after what she’s been drinking, it tastes watered down. Not in a bad way, she simply doesn’t feel a need to drink her dry- that’s control, that should be a good thing.

Tyler’s eyes are unfocused and he doesn’t reach for her, Elena pressing the girl’s wound to his mouth. He finally drinks at that, the grayness ebbing away from his face and neck. But it stays in his hands, Elena holding one and frowning. The girl should have done the trick and more, she’s seen drops of blood revive vampires that were desiccated for centuries.

“Something’s wrong isn’t it?” Tyler murmurs as the corpse falls to the ground.

“We’re gonna figure it out.”

Tyler barks out a weak laugh. “Elena, the vampire smelled better than her. It’ll take too many people- I can’t- I can’t.”

“I can,” Elena says simply. “Jordan!”

The vampire hesitates in the doorway, and she adds, “Come here.”

He does, and Elena snaps his neck.

“What the fuck?”

She drags him onto the bed with them, giving an arm to Tyler. “Try drinking from him instead.”

“It’s not- the blood isn’t working. It’s like I’m hungry.”

Elena doesn’t allow herself to flinch, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Then eat Tyler.”

He starts slowly, biting into the vampire’s wrist and tearing a chunk of flesh out with it. Blood spurts everywhere, making an absolute mess- but Elena only has eyes for the grayness receding from his fingertips.

“It’s working,” she murmurs, but Tyler has lost himself in the feed. Finally getting what his body was craving, he absolutely tears through Jordan. The only bit he leaves is a gnawed off hand, daylight ring sparkling.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck. I ate him, ohmygod, I ate him.”

“Shh, it’s okay.”

Tyler chokes, looking around the blood splattered room. There’s torn clothing thrown about, and his claws ripped through the bedding at some point. The blood and feathers looks nearly comical, doesn’t look real at all- it looks more like a room out of a cheap horror flick.

“It was your first time, and you were starving. It’ll be better next time. Okay?”

Tyler shakes in her arms, hiding his face in her embrace, doesn’t answer.

But he doesn’t run away either, or swear to never eat again- so Elena’s taking it as a win.

.

Klaus shows up later, smirking as he takes in the room. “I trust Jordan is no longer?”

Elena glares at him, and Tyler gets up, disentangling himself. “I’m gonna shower and go for a run.”

“Be safe,” Elena says as he leaves, earning herself two sets of rolling eyes.

“Young Tyler is the most dangerous thing out there- besides us.” Klaus walks around the room, pocketing the daylight ring. “I am rather glad he chose Elijah’s room.”

Elena immediately imagines him in here, in an impeccable suit and frowning at all of the mess. “Where is he anyways?”

“Somewhere in Antarctica. I didn’t want anyone stumbling upon our siblings.”

“And naturally you figured a giant frozen continent was the way to go.”

He grins, “I thought about plopping them in Everest’s death zone, but knowing my luck some idiot would undagger them early.”

“And then be eaten.”

“Mhmm,” Klaus comes closer, running his fingers through her hair. They come away bloody, and she belatedly recognizes it as Jordan’s blood.

“You should shower love.”

.

By the next day there’s a fridge full of blood bags and a basement full of compelled vampires. The blood bags taste like drinking tap water after having fine wine for ages, but Elena isn’t about to admit that. She wouldn’t put it past Klaus to commission or force a witch to make new fortified blood rather than sending someone on a Mystic Falls house run. (Each batch is probably a hundred bottles at least, and she can’t handle being responsible for so much death.)

Elena’s reading outside, Dickens rather than Dickinson this time, when someone shows up. She finishes her page, assuming Klaus or Tyler sent a minion to her. They’ve both been out exploring the woods and doing hybrid-y things since last night, and she was happy to stay at home.

“You’re alive,” he breathes, and Elena would know that voice anywhere, dropping her book.

“Stefan.”

Her face has already betrayed her before she can think to play at being Katherine, and she knows she couldn’t have fooled him anyways.

“How are you alive?” he asks, wrapping her up in a tight hug. “Did Klaus…?”

“No, the elixir. Why are you here? You shouldn’t be.”

Stefan takes a half-step back, cupping her face, “Tyler is missing, Damon’s hurt and I thought Klaus might-”

He stops suddenly, and Elena spots Klaus over his shoulder.

“No, do go on.” Klaus says, flashing forwards and gripping him by the throat, tearing him away from her. “Tell me, did you wait five minutes or a whole hour before you called home? Maybe there’s a car full of Tyler’s next meal waiting to be taken in the driveway.”

“I didn’t call him! I wouldn’t- I swear I didn’t,” Elena says quickly.

“Is that true?”

Stefan’s voice comes out a monotone, “I didn’t know Elena was here.”

“And why aren’t you on vervain?” Klaus asks, voice lighter.

“I was going to offer myself to you to fix Damon and return Tyler.”

Klaus laughs, dropping his neck and patting down his shoulders. “Well I can’t do that and you can’t return knowing of our dear Elena, so what shall we do?”

“Don’t kill him, please Klaus I’m begging you.”

“Okay,” and he agrees too easily, worry worming into her gut. “Stefan look at me. You will forget you ever met Elena Gilbert. You have no memories of her.”

“No!” Elena yells, but Stefan’s already clutching his head, the compulsion taking hold. “You can fight this Stefan,” she murmurs, blinking quickly.

Klaus pivots around, whispering in her ear. “Ah, but do you truly want him to?”

It’s a horrid suggestion- of course she does. Stefan is her love, no matter all the things that have changed. He’s still hers, still-

Stefan’s hands drop from his head, and he looks at her suddenly, so full of love and hope, and happiness bursts through her chest.

His fingers slide over her jaw slowly, reverence thick in his touch, and Klaus bristles beside her. “Katherine.”

And something snaps inside her at the name. She knows it’s irrational, but she hates him in that moment, all her joy turned rotten.

“No,” she says, and Stefan looks so very confused. But the anger is still bubbling in her veins, so she pushes away his hand, saying, “You will go find Katherine. You must find Katherine.”

Stefan leaves immediately, and Elena only wishes she could see Katherine’s face when she realizes he was compelled to seek her out. Hopes the joy turns to ash in her mouth.

“It’s as if you were made for me,” Klaus murmurs.

Elena hates that she understands what he’s saying, hates that it feels true. (God, when did saving everyone become pushing them away and hurting them if they find her?)

Elena goes inside, can’t stay in that moment any longer. She knows what attraction feels like better than any other feeling, can’t succumb to it again- not with him.

.

They keep having these moments. Klaus runs into her as she’s leaving the shower, she watches him train Tyler half-naked in the backyard, he drinks from a compelled human and offers her some, eyes glimmering. He turns another hybrid, a girl named Hayley, and Klaus feeds Elena his blood after, fire and lust tearing through her veins.

Elena has never been so sexually frustrated in her life.

Klaus doesn’t push it further, must know how very close she is to slamming him into the nearest surface. Thoughts like ‘he killed Jenna’ and ‘he killed me’, held so much more weight when she wasn’t a monster.

They’re finishing up fondue night- Elena’s not sure if Hayley’s choice was to mock the tension between her and Klaus, or because she wants to bang Tyler- either way it’s annoyingly endearing. The traitors even went out for a post-dinner swim, as if Elena can be trusted alone with Klaus and the leftover melted chocolate and fruit.

Elijah’s arrival with the rest of the family is the worst- perfect- timing. He brings presumably the three siblings, none of them looking too happy. For a split-second she has the ridiculous instinct to grab Klaus and run, as if he would agree to such a thing.

“Next time you send me to Antarctica, kindly tell me to pack an extra pair of socks.”

“Elijah! I see-”

“And you’ve shacked up with another Petrova Nik?” the blonde woman says with a sniff. “At least get one with a different face.”

“I believe that’s the appeal Bex,” a man says, running around and grabbing Klaus’s wrists, holding them behind his back.

Elena instinctively takes a step forwards, and Elijah holds up his hand. “This is family business Elena.”

Klaus is snarling at his siblings, but she’s pretty certain they can’t do anything permanent to him.

“I’ll be upstairs.”

She hears the blade slice into him, doesn’t let her feet stop until she’s in a bedroom. She recognizes it as Klaus’s room late, stretching out on the oversized bed. It’s a tactical decision, she tells herself. At the end of the day she trusts Elijah not to murder her friends- not Klaus.

It has nothing to do with the new urges she’s been feeling around him. It’s probably due to her enhanced senses anyways. She wonders what Tyler and Hayley are up to briefly, probably drinking and mucking about in the bayou. They’re both so young- it’s nice when they get to act like it. She thinks of Jeremy next, and it’s too painful, listening in on the torture downstairs instead.

One of the new brothers, Kol she gathers by something the sister says, is stabbing Klaus. Once each time for a year he was boxed away, and even Elijah gets his stabs in. Not that she didn’t know him more than capable of violence, but she didn’t think him so… vindictive. That they were more alike than that, and her stomach clenches, because maybe they still are. After what she did to Stefan and Katherine-

The sister, Bex, is slicing his neck open over and over, making him choke on his blood. The gurgles are repetitive enough that Elena dozes off, will wake up before they finish.

She doesn’t.

Klaus wakes her up with a kiss, and Elena’s responding before her brain can kick in. There are traces of blood in his mouth, and she recognizes it as his, searching it out and licking it away. Her hands map out his body, pulling him closer, down onto the bed, and bloody as the clothes are, there are no open wounds remaining.

“You’re okay,” she murmurs against his mouth, mostly to herself.

He sits up, his weight pushed against her groin, a delicious pressure she leans up into. “You keep allowing yourself to be caught by me.”

She grips his shoulders, wants to bring him back down to her, doesn’t want to think or talk about it.

Klaus’s lips twitch, taking her hands and holding them high above her head. “I’ve never minded playing the wolf love, but I want to hear you say it.”

A page flips downstairs, and Elena knows this game well. Knows why Klaus is suddenly insisting on a physical and verbal declaration, as if she hasn’t already made her decision. She’s tempted to throw it in his face, how dare he ask her now, after unwittingly putting on a show for his brother.

But she can’t leave Tyler here alone, and not deep enough down, she doesn’t want to leave.

“You’re the eternity I choose.” It’s more than she means to say, but the moment it’s out of her mouth, she knows it to be true.

His face lights up, bright enough to cool her anger- she can deal with it another time. Perhaps take a leaf out of his family’s book, and measure it out in blood.

Klaus kisses her again, devours her.