Chapter Text
It all happened so fast.
One moment she was drowning, ready to die for someone else. It was a death befitting that of a doppelganger: sacrificing herself for others, that is. Katherine did everything she could possibly do to avoid this. But Elena was no Katherine. It seems she had lived up to what people expected of her kind after all.
She was so certain she had died that fateful night on Wickery Bridge. She had given up her life in order for Matt to live—the thought in which, perhaps, by her death, things in Mystic Falls could return to their old ways. No vampires. No hybrids. No doppelganger. These thoughts filled her mind with ease (they made everything easier for her to accept her impending doom, making it easy to watch Stefan pull Matt out of the car instead of her) just as the cold water around her filled her lungs.
It seems those thoughts only proved to be her fantasy when she awoke in this dark and dreary room, the only light source being the sign which says "EXIT." At first, she concluded that she was on the Other Side. But then the image of herself gasping for breath while pleading with Stefan to save Matt instead of her flashed through her mind. She gasped, bolting upright from the metallic table she was lying on (how long had she been there?), her head full of questions as she surveyed the room around her. Everything felt too real for her to be on the Other Side. Coughing up the water from her lungs, she noticed that she wasn't wearing anything. The smell of formalin filled her nostrils, and it was then that she realized she was in a morgue.
She scrambled to leave the room, not minding her nakedness as she only had her friends in mind. She felt weird, but whatever miracle had brought her back from the dead was pushed aside by her thoughts. They were probably grieving right now. She couldn't bear the idea of them crying not only for her but also for Alaric, whom they had lost twice. Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to fall.
Dizziness struck her before she could even reach the door, almost causing her to hit her head as she suddenly fell to the ground. She thought she saw someone from the corner of her eye. At first, she dismissed it; it was so dark she probably was hallucinating. Must be a side effect of coming back from the dead, she convinced herself.
But the longer she stared, the more certain she became. Her heart sped up when she made out who the person was. She couldn't mistake that blonde hair.
"I was praying they were wrong, you know."
From the shadows, Rebekah emerged, her eyes full of contempt as she watched Elena from under her golden lashes. "If only you had stayed dead, I wouldn’t have to resort to this."
Elena thought the same, had wished she had remained in her eternal sleep, but the confusion of not knowing why she was still alive and not understanding what Rebekah was talking about rendered her unable to respond. Instead, she met the other girl’s gaze with the same intensity, knowing full well that it might not be the best course of action given the situation.
She willed herself to stand up despite the dizziness.
“Niklaus is dead.” The way Rebekah revealed this did little to ease the tension within her.
“You killed me.”
Scoffing at those words, Rebekah moved toward her, her heels clicking as they made contact with the ground, the sound resonating throughout the room. She stopped inches from her, her eyes devoid of emotion. Elena reminded herself not to be intimidated; this was Rebekah. She refused to show any reaction that would satisfy the Original.
“I did,” Rebekah admitted, adding, “To save my brother. Because, let’s face it Elena, you would do the same if it were your brother in danger.”
“But he’s still dead, isn’t he?” Elena knew better than to provoke her further, but her mouth moved before she could catch herself.
Rebekah let out a humorless laugh at this. “You’re right. He wouldn’t come back even if I killed you here for the second time.”
Though Elena couldn't see her clearly, Rebekah's voice sounded tired.
Elena gained a slight surge of courage from that. She closed the remaining distance between them and placed her hand on the other girl's shoulder.
“Then let me go," she urged. "You have done more than enough. You should love yourself, Rebekah. It’s time you stopped living in the shadow of your brother. You deserve to live for yourself this time around.” Elena meant every single word that came from her mouth. She remembered the girl who had opened up to her, the one who had confessed to running for a thousand years, craving love only to be betrayed over and over again.
It seemed her words had an impact when Rebekah's eyes softened. Elena notes the way the woman backed away from her, the visible loneliness she tried to conceal only to fail, now evident. Rebekah angrily wiped away the tears that had escaped her.
Elena sees the opportunity to flee—
Rebekah was already between her and the door. She glares at Elena, her nails digging into her wrist, preventing Elena from escaping.
"Don't think you can use the same trick on me again," she says with so much malice, Elena actually flinches upon hearing them. It had been a gamble on her part, she knows, but it wouldn't hurt to try.
"Let me go!"
"Doesn't it concern you how I managed to learn you're alive?"
Elena stops struggling.
"What do you mean?"
Rebekah deepens her nails into her skin, making her scream. She watches in pain as blood oozes from her wrist, only for it to slowly heal as if there were no wounds in the first place. She blinks.
"No. That's not possible..."
"Oh, but it is!" Rebekah exclaims with so much enthusiasm, "I heard you died with vampire blood in your system—Damon's, to be specific—but don't worry, I've already compelled them to forget that part."
I was praying they were wrong, you know. Rebekah's first words suddenly become clear to her. If only you had stayed dead, I wouldn't have to resort to this.
Elena can only stare at her in disbelief.
"But what a shame, as dearest Elena here didn't want to become a vampire." Rebekah's nails trace her face, her voice too cheery for Elena's taste. "Stay there." She doesn't even notice when Rebekah manages to compel her. She wills her body to move to no avail.
She watches as Rebekah goes to retrieve something from the other side of the room. Her mind doesn't register it at first, but the terror of seeing what's in Rebekah's hand almost makes her lurch. The smell is too strong, and suddenly, there's only hunger.
It's a blood bag.
She closes her eyes. No. No. No.
"Just kill me."
"But that's what you want. I couldn't possibly give you the satisfaction of granting that wish."
Rebekah is right. That's what she wants. Transitioning means there's still a chance for her to die without becoming a vampire. But feeding on human blood eliminates that possibility.
Tears escape her as the blood is forced down her throat, her eyes fixed on Rebekah's face in disdain. She wants to wipe the smile off her face, wants to punch the hell out of her. And yet, she's helpless against her. She can't even make a move without so much as a command from her.
The dizziness she felt earlier is suddenly gone after finishing the bag. Rebekah wipes the blood off her chin with her thumb, licking it off as she casts a grin at her. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"
"Go to hell." It's funny how she once said those words to her brother. Rebekah doesn't find it mildly concerning, only giving her a bored look before grabbing her chin. "We're not done."
She struggles when Rebekah tries to make her look her in the eye, attempting to free herself. She fails of course. She always does.
"I want you to forget everything. About your past. About yourself. About your ties with the family you made for yourself. You will not remember a single thing.” There’s venom in the way Rebekah spews out those words. “No amount of love can save you."
At first, it seems like the compulsion isn't working,
(And then her mind goes blank.)
"Every day, you'll resent yourself for being alive, but you can't die."
(She feels anger building inside her, couldn’t place the spiteful feeling towards herself when she closes her eyes.)
"You'll spend your life regretting for taking part in the killing of my brother. I want you to remember him. His name. His face. He will be your salvation. Only for you to remember at the end of the day, it was your fault he died."
(There are fires everywhere, memories of that night flooding her mind. Klaus takes her in his arms, draining her of blood, no struggling on her part. The gentleness as his lips meets her neck, the way he yanks her further in his grasp, everything is vivid; it’s all she can think of. She dies happily that way, only for it to be taken away when she catches a glimpse of herself through Rebekah's eyes.)
"Now run."
And she does.
Klaus, in Tyler's body, finds her wandering the woods several days later.
She surprises him when tears escape her eyes the moment her gaze lands on his.