#die easy

Katerina’s eyes widened as she took him in. “You’re a little late, aren’t you?”

He knew for a fact that he wasn’t. Reaching out, he touched the new thread of colour in her hair. Pinkish red. “You coloured your hair. I like it.”

She blinked heavily, a standard response. Before she could get her questions out, Elijah stepped forward to kiss her. She remained frozen for a moment before sinking into it. She tasted like coffee.

Katerina hated coffee.

Elena.

Elijah reigned himself in, fighting back the urge to shove her away from him and instead drew her closer, taking the chance to slip into her mind. She’d been taking vervain, he could tell, but there were a few thoughts he could skim from the surface. Interesting.

Elijah disengaged carefully, giving nothing away. “I missed you,” he tested.

“And I’ve missed you.” Another mistake. Katerina would never admit such a thing so openly.

“This is an interesting little town you’ve chosen to settle down in. So, do you have it with you?”

“Do I have what?” Elena asked innocently.

“The cure.”

Her heartbeat picked up. “It’s safe. How about I go find it?”

She turned away quickly but Elijah was faster, grabbing her arm forcefully. “Where’s Katherine, Elena?” he growled.

“I—I don’t—”

“Don’t imagine you can continue lying to me. What have you done with her? Are the Salvatores with you?”

Elena swallowed whatever trepidation his tone instilled in her and face him boldly, head-on. “I don’t have to tell you anything. Why are you here, anyway? You really expect me to believe you want the cure?”

No, he wanted Katerina. But he could hardly have the others knowing that. Not if they had Katerina themselves. God, he hoped she’d been careful … “I don’t have to tell you anything,” Elijah parroted back at her.

Elena rolled her eyes. Something was … off in the movement. He’d enjoyed a fair few conversations with her in the past, but this was different.

Elijah’s phone buzzed in his hand. Katerina’s name and picture popped up.

Answering, he barked, “Katerina?”

“Hello, Elijah,” Stefan’s voice taunted on the other end.

“Where is she?”

“Where’s Elena?”

Jaw working, Elijah stared at Elena as he said, “Safe. How long she remains so depends upon you.”

“Well, I guess the same goes for Katherine.”

Elijah tried to force a laugh. “I’m sure she can take care of herself against the two of you.”

“Oh, you mean the three of us. ‘Cause your little sister decided to join Team Good Guys for the time being.”

Elijah’s fury ignited at the same time as Elena’s delight lit up her face. Blood pounding, he hissed, “Put her on the phone.”

The conversation did little to progress from there. Rebekah was with Katherine and Damon, Stefan wouldn’t help until Elena was returned, etcetera, etcetera. It would have been nought but a plebeian nuisance had Elijah not known for a fact that Rebekah would end Katherine at a whim.

“You listen to me very carefully, Stefan,” he said, enunciating exactly. “If anything whatsoever happens to Katherine, I will descend upon Elena.” Precisely what that entailed, he did not know. He hung up before Stefan could enquire further.

“You’re both idiots,” said Elena, dropping to sit down on one of the benches. “And what happened to you? I thought you were supposed to be a man of honour, and yet you’ve been hooking up with Katherine this entire time?”

He hadn’t, but that was moot. He had to maintain the lie, the lie that the cure had drawn him in and not the promise of Katerina. “She contacted me about the cure. We thought we could be of mutual use to one another.”

“Admit it, Elijah. You fell into her trap.”

“You underestimate me, Elena. I know who she is. I know what she’s done.” Better than anyone, I know.

“And you think she’s changed? She’s playing you. She lied to you, Elijah.”

“And what of you, Elena? Now a vampire, but … there’s something else changed. You’re not yourself.” She shrugged at him, uncaring, and the realisation dawned upon him. “You’ve abandoned your emotions. Why?”

“Didn’t she tell you?” asked Elena, tone lilting. “Jeremy’s dead. Katherine killed him.”

Elijah’s stomach dropped into his shoes. Jeremy Gilbert was just a boy, and one of Matthew’s closest friends at that. For Katherine to have killed him …

Perhaps it was worst that Elijah was unsurprised.

“She lied,” he said. Not about the cure, but about herself. About being better than she had been. But had she really told him that, or had he simply put the words to her lips as he always did, making her something she never was?

Elena, however, found this hysterical. “I hate to say I told you so, but duh!”

Elijah’s fists clenched and unclenched as he tried to remain in control. “And your friends, you’ve all been mourning him?”

“Well, I haven’t,” Elena chirped. “But everyone else is pretty torn up about it. I think poor Matt went to the funeral all alone.”

Losing whatever shred of control remained, Elijah slammed his fist into one of the gazebo’s supporting columns.

 #

 Katerina had never shied away from a snapped neck or a dramatic entrance, so it was no surprise that both were involved in her next meeting with Elijah.

She stood over Elena’s body triumphantly, a grin blooming on her lips.

Elijah barely contained the tremble in his voice. “You killed Jeremy Gilbert.”

Katerina stopped short, watching him carefully. “Of course I did. I do what I must to survive, just as I always have.”

“And is that what I am to you? A means of survival?”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Katerina crooned, stepping toward him.

“I asked you a question!” Elijah barked, stopping her short.

“Of course you’re not just survival to me,” she said. “We’ve always seen one another, you and me. We need each other.” She rested a hand on his cheek. “I love you.”

Elijah pulled away, ignoring the impulse and leaving his cheek exposed to the bitter wind. “I don’t know you. I don’t think I ever will.”

So he left her.

 #

 Elijah drove back to Mystic Falls as though Katherine herself was pursuing him. He had the cure in his pocket and a chip on his shoulder, and there wasn’t anything anyone could do to stop him.

His first stop was at Folger’s Inn to re-book his old room. They recognised him; he compelled them not to do so again. It wasn’t really a touching reunion.

His next stop was Matthew’s. The house was empty, cold. From what Elijah could scent, Matthew hadn’t been there for some days at least. His truck was missing, too.

Elijah drove past the Gilbert residence, wondering if Matt had taken to staying there instead.

It was a burnt-out husk.

Frustration mounting, Elijah turned back into town and parked outside the Mystic Grill. He released a sigh of relief at the sight of Matthew’s truck in the Employees Only section.

Checking to ensure the cure was safe in his inner-jacket pocket, Elijah locked the car behind him and headed inside. Not much had changed about the Grill—it was as crowded and greasy as usual. The ambient lighting was better suited to a sultry dinner date than a midday mealtime. No one else seemed to care.

Elijah found Matthew taking orders from an older couple at a table in the corner. He perched on a stool at the bar, waiting patiently as Matthew listed the specials three times only for the man to order “our regular” with little explanation.

“Got it,” Matthew confirmed, scribbling something down. “Will that be all today?”

“Yes, Matty,” said the woman.

Matthew left and headed for the kitchen, not seeing Elijah on his way past. He didn’t interrupt him. It was nearing 1pm—maybe he’d be on break soon.

Behind Elijah, the couple spoke in hushed tones that required vampire senses to decipher.

“Poor boy,” the woman was saying. “He grew up with little Jeremy Gilbert. The whole thing is such a tragedy.”

“We’ll tip him well,” the man said, tone detached. “With a mother like his, I bet he needs it.”

“Elijah?” Matthew’s voice snapped Elijah out of his eavesdropping.

“Matthew,” Elijah greeted. “It’s … you look … well.” He looked like he hadn’t slept in three days, but that wasn’t the kind of thing one just said outright. “I stopped by your home to see you.”

“I don’t live there anymore. I’ve moved into Ty’s place.”

Elijah nodded. “Living with your friend must be … that sounds like a good idea.” That sounds like a good idea? Had he lost the ability to speak in Pennsylvania?

“Ty’s not there,” said Matt. “Your brother kinda chased him out of town.”

Ah, that sounded like Niklaus. “You’ve been there alone?”

“Don’t really have anyone else around anymore.”

“I … heard about Jeremy. Matthew, I—”

“You know what? I have some work to do. Some of us have jobs.”

“Of course. Would you have time to catch up later?”

“No, Elijah. I don’t think I will.” Matt pulled the pad of paper from his apron pocket and left to greet a crowd of newcomers.

 #

 Of all the places Matt wanted to be, prom wasn’t one of them. Yet here he was, wearing one of Ty’s tuxes and standing by the punchbowl with his hands in his pockets, determined to have something that resembled a good time.

Speaking of which, Rebekah sauntered up wearing a dress the colour of lemons and looking … remarkably out of place.

“So are you and Bonnie, like, a thing?” she asked, feigning nonchalance. She’d really adopted the modern speech patterns quickly.

“We’re not a thing; we’re friends. Who are you here with?”

Rebekah hesitated. “No one,” she admitted. “Go on, I know what you’re thinking—why didn’t I just compel myself a date?”

That had been what he was thinking, but he didn’t want her to know. “Actually, I was thinking, ‘I wonder if Bonnie wants ice?’.”

“Oh. Can I … ask you a question?”

“Why?” Matt asked shortly. “You seem to already know everything I’m thinking, so—”

“Do you think I would make a good human?”

Matt could admit to being a little taken aback at that. Were any vampires he knew ‘good’? Maybe Stefan, when he had his humanity and pleasant weather and the right lighting. But was Rebekah? “I think that ‘good’ is a hard word to live up to, and I’ve never seen you do anything remotely good, so … Honestly? No, I don’t. Sorry.”

He left before Rebekah could respond.

 #

 Elijah wondered how many times over the years this exact scene had played out. By now, he should be better at predicting its ending.

He sat across from Niklaus, a white oak stake on the table between them. Somewhere, a grandfather clock ticked to punctuate the silence.

Niklaus’ jaw tensed at the sight of it. “Why would you give me this?”

Because you’re paranoid enough to kill us all if I don’t. “We are immortal but for the stake. Now that it’s yours, you have nothing to fear.”

“Silas will continue to torment me.”

“You’ve survived endless torments throughout the centuries, each more wicked than the last: the hunter’s curse, our father’s wrath, Marcellus’ death. You’ll shake this. And if you can’t, you can outrun him.”

Niklaus chuckled. “Yes, it’s that simple. Without the cure, what makes you think I’ll spare your beloved Katerina? Or have you figured out you’re simply another fly in her web?”

Elijah’s tone darkened. “You may do with Katerina what you will. I ask something else in return for this.”

“And what might that be?”

“I wish you to relinquish your hold on the Lockwood boy. Allow him to return here to his friends.”

Niklaus laughed outright at that. “You’re serious? Why would you care for the fate of one boy?”

“Why would you?”

“He betrayed me.”

“He was never yours to possess. Really, Niklaus—I’d have thought that Marcellus taught you not to bleed devotion from those in your thrall.”

Niklaus closed the distance between them, shoving Elijah against a wall. “How dare you use Marcellus against me? I only ever loved him.”

“You used the guise of philanthropy to own him and dared to call it freedom. If fever hadn’t taken his mother you’d have drowned her like Carol Lockwood. What is this obsession you have, Niklaus? Power is not and never has been possessing those that despise you, yet you would punish Tyler for seeking freedom from one he loathed.”

Niklaus pressed the stake against Elijah’s suit, right over his emerald satin pocket square. Also, incidentally, his heart. “I see I am to court betrayal at every turn.”

“I have only betrayed you once in our existence, Niklaus, and we are a thousand years and a broken curse beyond it now. Free Tyler Lockwood and let him return to his friends.”

Niklaus pressed in closer until they were nose-to-nose. “I’ll consider it.” He snapped himself away, tucking the stake into his leather jacket.

Elijah straightened his suit. “It is such a hollow little life you lead, Niklaus.” He pressed a hand to his brother’s cheek, then left.

 #

 “You’re sure you’re okay?” Matt checked again, looking at April worriedly. She was still pale and more than a little woozy.

“I’m fine,” she promised. “You should get going before my aunt gets back from her dinner.”

Matt didn’t like the idea of leaving April, but she had enough vampire blood in her system to keep her safe. And not just any vampire’s—Rebekah’s.

“Well, I’ll get going. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“I will. Thanks for driving me home.” April’s smile was just as bright as it had been when they were kids.

“Night.”

Matt headed back out to his truck, getting it going so he could start the AC on warm. He held his hands in front of the vents, huddling over them for warmth.

It had been … a hell of a night. Emphasis on ‘hell’. April had gotten hurt over vampire shit again. She’d almost died again. Rebekah had had to save her … okay, that hadn’t happened before, but still didn’t feel particularly unusual. She really was desperate to get the cure from Elijah, but he’d made her good, human behaviour a condition of her obtaining it. You know, like an asshole.

Filled with a night’s worth of bitter anger, Matt dialled before he even knew what he was doing.

“Matthew.”

“You need to give Rebekah the cure.”

“I see she’s informed you of our little wager.” Elijah sounded almost … amused? “She will receive the cure, provided she lives up to her end of it.”

“Give it to her now,” Matt ground out. “You’re not her father. You don’t get to teach her lessons. Who do you think you are?”

The line crackled.

“I see you’ve made some assumptions about the situation—”

“Am I wrong?” Matt pressed. “Did you not tell Rebekah you’d only give her her one true desire if she proved herself worthy to you?”

“It was never about worth. What do you take me for? This is about certainty. She sees only what is ahead of her and nothing of what she will leave behind. A thousand years as a vampire, with all the darkness that comes with that, but all the gifts as well. She cannot leave it so easily, and I will not allow my sister to end her immortal life on a whim.”

“She’s a thousand years old,” said Matt. “How long has she wanted this? How long has she been broken by it? How many times has she longed for the chance you’re keeping from her now?”

“She doesn’t understand—”

“No, don’t. Don’t you dare decide what she understands. You don’t know her, Elijah! You hadn’t seen her in a century before a few months ago. Give her the cure and let her decide. We both know she deserves it more than Klaus ever will, and with the way Elena’s been I’m not sure even the cure will save her.”

“If the Salvatores discover that you have ruined Elena’s chance at humanity, they might kill you.”

“Wow, I wonder what it’s like to be in danger.”

“I’m serious, Matthew.”

“Let them,” Matt bit back.

“You don’t mean that.”

Matt tightened his hand over the steering wheel. “Look, just give her the cure, Elijah. Whether or not she takes it is up to her.”

“You don’t command me.”

“You don’t command her.”

Only Elijah’s breathing drifted down the line, holding the silence until he spoke again. “I’ll see.”

And he hung up.

 #

 Matt drove home in silence, operating on autopilot and arriving home without even thinking about it until he came to a halt half a street away. Either side of the road was lined with cars.

Right—the party.

Matt pulled off into a back road to get a park closer to the house and walked the rest of the way. The party was just kicking off under Caroline’s supervision. Matt dodged a gaggle of drunk football players making a beeline for him while exclaiming, “Matty!” and got inside undisturbed.

He found Caroline in the den, nursing some of Ty’s dad’s good scotch. She greeted him with a muted, “Hey,” tipping the glass towards him.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Tyler’s gone.” She hiccupped a little. “He left about an hour ago.”

Without saying goodbye to anyone but Caroline. Shitty but unsurprising. “I’m sure he wished he could stay,” Matt said.

Caroline shrugged, downing the rest of her glass. Matt eyed the half-empty bottle. “You sure you don’t want to slow down?”

“I have vamp-level tolerance,” Caroline told him, refilling her glass. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. But you might want to check upstairs. I’m pretty sure Bradley Dixon and Lexie McGuire are about to start banging in your room.” She tapped her ear, then took another sip.

“God, can we not end this already?” Matt rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m exhausted, April almost died, Elena’s well and truly off the reservation—just, do we have to do this now?”

Caroline took a moment to catch up with what he was saying, and then she stood. “I’ll go start compelling people.”

“Are you sure you’re good to do that?”

She turned back to Matt, setting the glass down and putting one finger to her nose, then drawing it away in a straight line. “Not drunk. There?”

“That’s not exactly scientific. Just … don’t compel anyone. I’ll take care of it.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Shut off the electricity for half an hour. You start telling people that the Grill is mostly empty and they should move there.”

“Is it?”

“It’s a Friday night, so no. I’m sure they’ll find somewhere.” He grabbed a torch from one of the chests of drawers in the den and tucked it into his sleeve.

 #

 There were a few screams when the power first went out, but Caroline managed to convince everyone to move on quickly enough. Matt stayed out at the back of the house at the power supply. He waited until Caroline called out to him, then switched it all back on.

He rejoined Caroline at the house, watching her sway on bare feet, the skirt of her dress bunched up in one hand.

“You need me to call a cab?”

“I can drive.” Caroline stared him down for a moment, still swaying. “All right, maybe not.”

“You can stay here if you want. I’ll make up one of the spare rooms for you.”

“I’ll stay in Ty’s. Good night.” Caroline gave him a half-hug and headed upstairs. Something told him staying in Ty’s room wouldn’t be cathartic for her, but whatever.

Though the party had lasted only an hour, the house was already a mess. The keg had been taken (the team was never one to waste perfectly good beer), but red cups littered every horizontal surface and there were snacks covering the dining table—and the dining room floor, which now crunched underfoot.

Matt had just started cleaning up the mess when there was a knock at the door. He brought the broom with him to answer it, part of him thinking he could always use it to chase whoever it was off.

Except that it was Elijah, so perhaps not.

“What are you doing here?” Matt asked.

Elijah eyed the broom. “Are you going to beat me with that?”

“Why are you here?”

“Are you going to invite me into your new residence?”

Matt refused to look away from the gaze Elijah levelled at him. “Did you give Rebekah the cure?”

“Yes and no. I … intended to. She stood before me and I put it into her hands. As it turns out, I was fooled by Silas’ shapeshifting capabilities.”

“Which means he has the cure in his possession, and we’re all screwed.” None more so than Rebekah. “Fuck, I—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten involved.”

“This isn’t your fault. You were right about Rebekah, about everything.”

“If I hadn’t told you to give it to her, Silas wouldn’t have it.”

“If I had given it to Rebekah the moment she told me she wanted it, Silas wouldn’t have it either.”

It was true, however much Matt didn’t want to admit it. “We fucked up.”

“I contest your inclusion in that ‘we’, but yes.”

“You could’ve just called me to tell me all this.”

“I wanted to ensure that you are well. I hear there’s been some … drama.”

“That’s one word for it.”

“Are you all right?”

“Peachy.”

“Testy, more like. How about we have a conversation?”

“I don’t have time, sorry. I have an entire house to clean.”

“I could help you,” Elijah offered.

“How many years has it been since the last time you held a broom?” Matt asked incredulously.

“I hear there are vacuums now.”

Matt raised the hand with the broom in it a little. “Call me old-fashioned.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Elijah hesitated, a hand on either side of the doorframe. Matt could tell he wanted to ask for an invitation, but something stopped him. “Well, I should be heading off. Rebekah will require some consoling. I’m glad to see you’ve landed on your feet.”

“Likewise.”

“Have a good evening.” Elijah pushed himself back off the doorframe and disappeared into the night.

 #

 It wasn’t that Elijah wanted to leave.

He didn’t feel particularly motivated to stay, but for Matthew’s issues. He’d been concerned by the earlier phone conversation, the terse attitude and disinterest in conversation. He wasn’t himself.

But the moment Rebekah told Elijah where Klaus had gone, he knew he had no choice.

New Orleans had been kind to their family, once upon a time. That kindness had evaporated into smoke the moment Mikael arrived and killed Marcellus. And if Klaus was returning …

There was going to be blood. And where there was blood on Klaus’ hands, thereafter ran Elijah, eager to clean it up.

Perhaps self-awareness made it less pathetic.

But for the first time, Elijah didn’t follow immediately. He had unfinished business—not with Katerina or the Knights, and certainly not with Rebekah, who’d do as she pleased for as long as she could until Niklaus inevitably came after her for it.

No, it was the matter of Matthew and his most recent loss. In that vein, Elijah had arrangements to make.

 #

 Caroline was gone when Matt woke up.

The few cleaning tasks he’d left to do later were completed, and the house was pristine. The note on the fridge read: Hope you slept well. I cleaned everything else up and grabbed some more groceries for you. See you later xoxo

Matt smoothed a hand over his face, pulling the fridge open to investigate. It was stocked full of milk and three kinds of juice, some various fruits and vegetables and yoghurt, too.

And she’d managed it all before 9am.

Matt skipped over all of it to get at the leftover Chinese food instead.

He’d made it halfway through what remained of the chicken lo mein when his phone rang. It was Elijah, something that no longer surprised him.

Picking it up, Matt said, “Yes,” a bit more curtly than he intended.

“Matthew. I hope I’ve found you well.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I’m afraid I have to leave town. My brother has taken off and I’m tasked with fetching him.”

Klaus was gone? That could only be good news. “Tasked by who?”

“None but fate, I suppose. I’m going off to ensure he doesn’t get himself into trouble.”

“I wouldn’t be worried about him.”

“I’m afraid I seem unable to shake that particular concern.” He paused. “Matthew, I’m sending you the details of someone my assistant has located. I’d like you to go and see him.”

“Who?”

“He’s a psychologist I’ve had compelled to assist you. He will keep his Wednesday night appointments free for you, unless you ask to change the time. I’ve paid in advance, so it’s all taken care of.”

A psychologist? Really? “What do you expect me to talk to him about?”

“Anything you desire. You’re under no obligation to attend, but I’ve ensured that he will remain available for you. I’ve compelled him to forget all about you unless he’s speaking with you, so your secrets really are safe with him.”

“I don’t have any secrets.”

“On the contrary, Matthew—you’ve been burdened with everyone’s secrets. I do hope you’re well. Please call me if you need anything, even just to talk.”

“I will.” Matt didn’t know whether to feel touched or violated. He decided to go with neither and changed the subject. “Uh, good luck with your brother.”

“Thank you, Matthew. Take care.”

The line clicked.

 #

 Elijah really should have known better than to imagine fetching his brother from New Orleans would be a simple matter. Few things with Klaus were, but his relationship with the city was likely the most complicated relationship in his life, besides Marcellus.

Of course, Marcellus and New Orleans always had come together, and since the boy was alive after all …

Snapping out of his pondering, Elijah pulled up at the cemetery parking lot. He tried and failed to not check his phone for messages. There were several texts from Rebekah but none from Matthew. His offer of a psychologist was intrusive, he knew, and trying to find out what Matthew’s response was would be unhelpful. That didn’t stop Elijah from checking constantly for any message, be it one of gratitude or anger at overstepping.

Putting his phone away, Elijah stepped out of the car. His Mercedes was at odds with the rust-buckets that flanked it on either side; Elijah took care not to bump into either of them as he exited the car, desperate not to ruin his best suit.

He didn’t know why he’d dressed up so well just to return to New Orleans. Or perhaps he did know and was avoiding the truth, even in his own mind.

Good impressions were priceless, he reminded himself as he crunched his loafers over the gravel. The sound reminded him of clenched teeth and grinding bones.

Upon approach, Elijah could hear five heartbeats in the crypt: Sophie Deveraux; the other witch named Agnes; yet another witch Elijah hadn’t yet identified; and, finally, the young wolf girl with two heartbeats inside her, both her own and another smaller, more rapid one.

The witches knew Elijah was coming before he was in sight of them. He entered the crypt to find them arranged around Hayley in casual stances, though he could smell the magic ready to burst in the room.

“Elijah,” Sophie greeted, her dark eyes hard. “Is it done?”

“My brother has once more gotten himself into Marcel’s good graces,” Elijah confirmed. He forced his gaze to remain on Sophie, though his attention was with the girl in the center of the room. “He will continue to work as your agent there.” Well, Klaus hadn’t (and wouldn’t) put it that way, but until they could free themselves of the witches’ threats against the child they were relatively at the mercy of the Nine Covens.

“That’s good.” Despite her words, Sophie’s tone was not congratulatory. “I’m sure Hayley is relieved.”

“I’d like her to be a good deal more than that.”

Sophie’s eyebrow raised. “Oh?”

“I want her freed.”

“We’re not doing that,” said Agnes.

Sophie shot Agnes a look that may have been discreet by mortal standards, but for Elijah it stretched an eternity and spoke volumes of their relationship.

“Free how?”

“I don’t expect you to free her from the spell,” said Elijah, tone obvious, “and I wouldn’t bother to ask. But I do want her at my side.”

“You’ll try to break the link.”

“If we do, there will be dire consequences. You assured us of that. Or were you bluffing?” Elijah trailed off with the shadow of a smirk.

Predictably, Sophie’s hackles rose. “No, we weren’t. Try to break the spell and we both die. No loopholes.”

We’ll see about that. “I simply wish to have her at my side. It benefits both of us—you do not have to see to her upkeep, nor take on the trouble of confining her. Something tells me she’s displeased at her accommodation so far, and wolves can be so difficult when the full moon nears. Have you seen her through one yet?”

“Pregnant wolves don’t turn on the full moon.”

“No, but all wolves become … agitated. Are you prepared to deal with the bloodshed that comes with confining a wolf under her moon? Or have the wolves been absent from this city so long that you’ve forgotten their capabilities?”

Sophie remained stoic, but the third, nameless witch shifted uncomfortably. “He’s right, Sophie,” she said, and as she spoke Elijah spied the silver edge that poked up over her shirt collar. A bite, and not one from vampire fangs either.

“Besides,” Elijah continued, “my brother is fickle and barely convinced of this course of action. If you intend to bind his assistance to his love for this child, he’d best be near it as it grows. Hearing that heartbeat’s strength could do wonders for his cooperation.”

Sophie sighed.

“You’re not seriously considering this?” Agnes demanded.

Ignoring the interjection, Sophie said, “You know the consequences for breaking the spell fine enough. Remember that you can’t take her out of the city, either. If she’s too far from me, we’ll both feel the effects of the spell straining. It won’t be pleasant, especially for the baby.”

“Understood.”

Sophie held his gaze for a moment, expression still inscrutable. “Fine,” she said, stepping aside slightly. “She’s all yours.”

Elijah offered Hayley his hand. She took it cautiously, peering around as though waiting for a trap to reveal itself. He felt the tension begin leaving her the moment she touched him. He put himself between her and the witches; she went willingly where he guided her, something he suspected she didn’t do very often.

“I’d say it was a pleasure doing business with you,” he began, giving Agnes a tepid smile, “but it certainly was not.”

“We’ll be seeing you soon,” Sophie promised, her eyes looking past Elijah at Hayley, who he felt shudder behind him.

“Of course.” Wasting no more time, Elijah dropped his hands on Hayley’s waist and lifted her slightly to speed her away, back to the car.

He set her back on her feet seconds later. She blinked, a little disoriented.

“Sorry,” he said. “Agnes was eyeing you and I thought it might be best to get you out as fast as possible.”

Hayley nodded shortly. She was doing her best to conceal the small shakes wracking her frame. Her jaw was tense and her eyes were distant.

“Are you all right?” Elijah asked as gently as he could.

“Fine,” she said. “Just … had a bit of a wild time. Not the good kind.”

“I am sorry. But you’re free of them now, I swear.”

“Am I?” Hayley asked, looking at him finally. Her eyes were glassy.

“The spell is an issue,” Elijah agreed, “but my family and I have dealt with greater.”

“And if the spell breaks, you really think I’ll be free? Your brother won’t allow that.”

Elijah paused, unsure of what to say to that. Hayley spoke again before he could figure it out.

“Let’s just get out of here,” she said. “I need to wash this awful day off myself and sleep for a thousand years. Please tell me you have somewhere for us to go.”

“Of course. Niklaus is readying it as we speak.”

She snorted. “Oh, goodie.”

 #

 The house was all set up with water and electricity by the time they arrived. There was hot water for Hayley’s shower, which she disappeared off to complete the moment she was shown her new room. Elijah’s assistant had brought her some basic clothes and toiletries, but she didn’t say thank you for them.

Since they’d done this to her to start with, Elijah was hardly offended.

Most of the furniture was covered in sheets, but Elijah located Niklaus in the one room that had been cleared out and dusted off—the former sitting room, where Klaus now sipped bourbon and gazed into the empty, cold fireplace.

“Already drinking, brother?”

Klaus smirked at him over the rim of his glass. “Of all the interventions you’ve staged for me over the years, this is by far the most pedestrian.”

“On the contrary.” Elijah sat down across from him, pouring out his own glass. “The drinking is by far the most tolerable of your vices. Do please continue.”

“Mm.” Klaus balanced his glass on the edge of his chair. “The house is remarkably well-kept, given its age.”

“The plantation house, you mean,” Elijah corrected. “Of course it has been. It was heritage listed before you compelled it into your possession, and this country so loves its monuments to horror. Was it really necessary that we inhabit one?”

Klaus shrugged. “It’s a perfectly fine place to live. We’re familiar with it, and we know there’s no way Marcel frequents it.”

“I have no doubt that the reason we’re here is Marcellus, but I do doubt it’s convenience. When he does discover you no longer stay at the hotel in town, I’m certain he’ll be devastated upon realising your actual residence. It follows that you intend to capitalise on his misery—or perhaps you only wish to enjoy it from afar?”

Klaus prickled. “Whatever harms my enemy is a tool for my own keeping, I suppose.”

“You forget the century for which he was most certainly not your enemy.”

“He is now,” Klaus snarled.

“Just him? Not these witches? Not anyone else who would harm your child? Do not make the mistake of focusing on the enemy before you, Niklaus. Remember who put him in your path, and what means they used to get there.”

“Marcel holds the witches in subjugation,” Klaus said, as though Elijah was unaware. “Why shouldn’t they find freedom in whatever way they can? I of all people know what it’s like to be denied who you truly are.”

Elijah couldn’t stop his scoff. “All these centuries I’ve spent seeking the exact location of your capacity for empathy. I should’ve known it lay with the kind of vermin that would curse your own family. You do so appreciate the majesty in an act of subjugation. Our current locale is further proof of that.”

“Watch yourself, Elijah,” Klaus warned.

“Or you will do what, Niklaus?” Elijah volleyed back, an edge to his tone. “I wish to see this through the same as you do, but make no mistake—what Marcellus has done, taking this city as his and making it his own, growing his community, even attacking the wolves and the witches … that is nothing compared to the crime of threatening this family. If you accept this child as yours, if you open yourself to fatherhood, that is your only objective. Any violence you bring to this house that isn’t in pursuit of that is a perversion I will not tolerate. Do you understand me?”

Klaus froze, taken aback for perhaps the first time in a century.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Elijah said smoothly. He downed his entire drink in one swig and dropped the glass on the table. “I’m going to go check on your child’s mother for you.”

 #

 Elijah woke early the next morning. The heat had already settled over the house like a blanket, so he made a note to ask his assistant about installing air conditioning. He and Niklaus would cope with the poor weather just fine, but Hayley would need the comfort.

He could provide her with that, at least.

He had a full breakfast ready for Hayley when she woke. Perhaps it was too much hovering, he wondered as she choked down a single pancake and avoided meeting his eyes.

“The house needs some work before it’s suitable,” Elijah said, gauging her reaction. “I’d like to open it up and clear out the dust today, if you find that amenable.”

Hayley nodded. “I can help.”

“You don’t have to. Being here is enough—you should relax.”

“No, I need to keep busy or I might actually go crazy.” She shoved her plate away, looking a little peaky. “If I haven’t already.”

“Are you ill?”

She rested her hand over her mouth for a moment, tense. After a moment, she relaxed. “I’m fine. The morning sickness isn’t that bad yet.”

“Have you received any medical advice yet?”

“I only had my pregnancy confirmed by a spell, so no. Didn’t even get to pee on a stick.” Despite the building heat, Hayley wrapped her arms around herself. “Doesn’t quite feel real yet.”

“Would you like me to procure you a stick?” Elijah offered, smiling.

Hayley laughed. It was an incredible sound, loud and bawdy and inelegant. “Thanks, but I think I’m good.”

“Understandable,” Elijah allowed. “But on a more serious note, I’d be happy to find a competent physician, someone we can compel to see to your needs. External threats aren’t the only thing you need to be kept safe from.”

“I’d appreciate that.” She smiled at him across the table.

Elijah stood, his chair creaking as it was slid back by his legs. “I’ll clean up.”

“I can help—”

“No, please, it’s fine.” He still hadn’t heard from Matthew or Rebekah, and he was finding that focusing his energy on the new situation was a good distraction from his concerns. And that meant keeping as busy as possible, as much as possible.

“Okay.” Hayley stood, looking a little awkward as Elijah gathered her plate together. “Thanks for cooking breakfast. I’m enjoying it while it lasts.”

“Thank you for eating with me.” Elijah turned his most charming smile on her. “I’ll meet you upstairs in fifteen minutes? I’d love to get the library cleared out for use again.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Brilliant,” said Elijah, stacking the glasses on the plates and carrying them into the kitchen. He heard her linger, both hers and the baby’s heartbeats suspended in the dining room. There was a rasp as her fingers trailed over the wood of the table, tapping lightly before she turned to leave.

Upstairs, she fussed around in her room for a while before heading to the bathroom and switching the shower on. Elijah stopped listening abruptly, switching on the tap in front of him and starting in on the washing up.

He had a big day ahead, and even bigger days ahead of that. He could only hope he’d succeed in all he had to do.

Little did he know of the silver dagger that awaited him in his brother’s grasp not three rooms away.

 #

 Matt groaned as he woke, rubbing at his neck and surveying the textbooks scattered over the coffee table.

Rebekah appeared the moment he made a sound. “Are you hungry? Sore?”

“I’m fine.” He shielded his eyes from the sun filtering in through the window. Great—morning in the Salvatore house. He’d slept all night there after staying up to study with Rebekah.

No, wait—they had been studying, but then he’d volunteered to help get Elena back and … yeah.

“You let Damon Salvatore kill you as a part of his latest plan and then a magic ring brought you back to life,” Rebekah said exasperatedly. “You’re not fine.”

“Except that it’s not even the worst thing to happen to me this week, so I’m getting good at adjusting to the new, fucked-up status quo.”

“You’re exhausted.”

“That’s a default setting. You can go home, by the way.”

“To the house Nik built? Too pretentious for me. I prefer somewhere homely.”

Matt scuffed a socked foot against the burgundy carpet, 99% sure it had been stained that colour by blood. “This isn’t much better.”

“But you’re here, and you can’t be trusted to study alone. You’d probably rather go toss yourself off a cliff or something.”

“I don’t have a death-wish.”

“Just a ‘maybe-it-doesn’t-matter-that-I-keep-living’ wish. Either way, I’m not going anywhere. Get used to it.” She folded her arms over her chest, literally not budging. Matt was a bit disoriented by her determination—his experience with Elijah had taught him that some vampires have manners. Rebekah was indicating that her brother was an outlier after all.

“So you’re just gonna stand there and watch me?”

She dropped her arms, gesturing to the chair beside him questioningly. He nodded, giving her permission to drop into the spot. She perched there elegantly, her hands folded in her lap. She’d been there all day and night and still hadn’t removed her heels.

“Coming back to life,” she started, voice gentler than he’d heard it before, “it feels … wrong. It can be difficult to come to terms with.”

Matt supposed it made sense that Rebekah would have a complicated relationship with resurrection. “I think there’s a difference between this and … when you were turned. I mean, I don’t know everything that went down, but I heard that you didn’t really want it. I chose to do this.”

“Is that supposed to be a comfort?”

“No. Just a fact.”

Rebekah’s jaw tensed. “I’ve been daggered by my brother countless times over the centuries. Each time I woke, the world was a new place—new inventions, new societies, new wars, new misery. It was jarring, but it was nothing compared to coming back to life after my father ran me through. The first time you die … there’s nothing like it.”

Matt waited to see if she was going to continue. She didn’t.

“This, uh …” He cleared his throat. “This wasn’t the first time I’ve died.”

Her head whipped around to look at him. “What?”

“It’s happened before. Jeremy started seeing ghosts and my sister was one of them, so I thought maybe if I died and came back like he did I’d see her, too.”

“Did you?”

“No.”

Silence fell, stretching out between them like a high wire. Neither of them dared to cross it.

Changing the subject, Matt said, “On second thought, maybe I am a little hungry.”

Rebekah had her phone out of her pocket and in her hand before Matt could even process the blur of her movement. “I’m going to order some pizza.”

“There’s two whole leftover ones in the fridge.”

Rebekah laughed incredulously as she put the phone to her ear. “If you think I’m putting anything that comes out a microwave into my mouth, you’re sorely mistaken.” She flounced away to make the order. Matt didn’t know what pizza place was open at 10am, but he had a feeling compulsion was involved. Rebekah had developed a taste for modern takeout, after all.

Being left with nothing but his thoughts was its own torture. Matt tried reading through the nearest textbook but none of the information penetrated the fog that had settled over his mind. He picked up a pen only to put it down moments later.

His phone rested face-down on the table. He picked it up to check, seeing one message there. From Caroline, not Elijah. The disappointment was stronger than usual.

Whatever he said to Rebekah, dying was never something he would just get over. And having Damon be the one to do it…

Pulling up the conversation with Elijah, Matt let his thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment. How are you? he asked, then erased it in favour of Haven’t heard from you in a while. Hope everything’s okay. He sent that instead.

“I hope you’re good with pepperoni,” Rebekah announced, marching back in. “I figure we eat some brain food then get back to the study?”

“Sounds good,” Matt agreed. “I might just grab a shower, get cleaned up.”

Rebekah’s nose wrinkled. “Yeah, I wasn’t going to mention the smell.”

“Thanks,” he said acerbically, avoiding the temptation to toss a pen at her. She laughed at his annoyance, and he couldn’t help but chuckle back.

He was sore when he stood; he had to smother it when Rebekah started toward him, looking ready to sweep him up and carry him at the slightest sign of trouble.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he told her.

She rolled her eyes. “Try not to brain yourself in the shower, you fool.”

 #

 Klaus stood over his brother’s body, the pallid grey of desiccated skin dark against the white of his collar, dull in contrast to the shining silver dagger buried in his chest. In another time, it would’ve made a fine painting.

In the next room, Hayley continued clearing the dust, coughing slightly.

The phone in Elijah’s pocket buzzed. Klaus knelt beside his brother’s body and pulled it free.

Haven’t heard from you in a while, it read. Hope everything’s okay. From a contact only listed as “Matthew”. No surname given.

It took only a few scrolls of Klaus’ thumb to uncover the rest of the conversation. Matthew Donovan.

A surge of anger ran through Klaus. Elijah discussing sensitive matters with their enemy—and to say nothing of what he may have mentioned beyond the text messages … What was it about the busboy that had Rebekah and Elijah so thoroughly devoted?

Glancing down at his brother, Klaus scrolled back to the bottom and began to formulate a reply.

 #

 There was a response from Elijah when Matt got out of the shower.

I am otherwise occupied. Please do not contact me this way again.

Matt told himself it was nothing. Elijah was occupied with whatever was going on in New Orleans, with his brother, with his family. It was useless to bitch about it.

Denying the disappointment did nothing to lessen it.

 #

 The explosion rocked through Matt, leaving him breathless. He wasn’t close enough to feel it, but the sound had his blood pounding in his ears as he stumbled down the street.

She’s fine, he told himself. Rebekah is fine. She just … stepped on an explosive device for you. You know, after she promised to show you the world.

But she was an Original. She’d be fine.

Matt’s hands shook as he pulled his phone out, his sweat-slick fingers struggling to punch in the passcode to unlock it. He pulled up his text conversations, scrolling past all his friends until he found the last conversation between him and Elijah.

Your sister can survive explosions, right? he tapped out. He sent it before he could think, then followed it up with a panicked: I think she’s okay. She should be.

Not exactly super comforting, he had to admit. And Elijah had also asked him not to contact again, but maybe if he knew something was happening with Rebekah …

It was gross of him to use Rebekah’s situation to connect with Elijah again. A little disgusted at himself, Matt put his phone away and broke out into a jog.

He had a graduation to make.

 #

 That night, Matt stayed firmly in the boundaries of his home, resting a hand on either side of the frame. Rebekah stood outside, her hair a slash of gold under the porchlight.

“I know that we were under duress today,” she began awkwardly, “so … whatever, you know, plans that we were making … I understand if you don’t want to.”

Plans to travel around the world. With her. Starting in Italy, apparently. It was never going to end well. But if he was still with her, maybe Elijah would contact her …

Matt sighed. “You and I … this isn’t gonna work. I need to keep my love life a low-vampire zone, too, okay?”

Her smile faltered. “Of course. I get it.”

“So whatever happens on the road, stays on the road, all right?”

She brightened back up again. “I’m sorry, are you saying …”

Matt shrugged. “I’ve never set one foot outside this town. I have no college plans, no idea what the future holds for me … But I do know that it’s time that I start truly living. And, since you almost killed me this year, I figured it’s your obligation to show me how.”

Rebekah didn’t jump up and down, per se, but she did rock on her heels excitedly. “Okay. Um—do you want to pack? We can leave in like an hour. I’ll just go get my things.”

“Sounds good. See you then.” Matt stepped back and shut the door in her face, if only to stop her from seeing his own smile.

Maybe he was waiting for news of Elijah. In any event, he could afford to have fun while he did.

"Great. I thought you might be asleep or something. Do you sleep?"

"Only when I want to. Why are you up so late? It's past midnight and you have school tomorrow." Elijah winced. "Not that I'm passing judgment."

"No, it's fine. I wish there was someone around to tell me to go to bed sometimes. And I'd love to be asleep, but I've had one of those days."

"Ah. Do you just wish to vent, or can I help in some way?"

"You already helped when you warned me about Jeremy."

"What did he do?"

"Tried to kill Elena. She's fine, but I'm staying at his house with him until he figures out some control. Guess I'm babysitting, technically, so no school for me. Besides, we only have like three days until we're on break for Christmas anyway."

"What measures are you taking to help him control his urges? You may need to divert him from his sister, send him towards other, less benevolent vampires."

"Maybe he can just wait it out, you know? It's a shock right now, but he has to learn."

"His hunger to kill must be fed somehow. Waiting for it to become a bigger problem is not a solution."

"I'll talk to him about it. Jer's not going to want to start prowling for vamps."

"He'd be doing the town a service."

"Mm, maybe. What about you? How are you?"

"I'm well enough. The same, which is a blessed relief. If you need to discuss this further, you can come and see me."

"I don't even know where you are."

"I'm at Folger's Motel. Room 325."

Matt's silence made Elijah smirk.

"You didn't expect me to tell you where I was staying, did you?"

"Not really."

"I trust you'll exercise discretion. And you can visit anytime you need a break from the situation with Jeremy."

"Folger's, that's, uh, on the other side of Wickery Bridge, right?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Nothing, just trying to remember where it is. It's been a while."

Elijah was used to going by a person's heartbeat to determine whether or not they were being truthful, but he didn't feel the need; he could tell there was something Matt wasn't saying. "Is everything all right?" Elijah prompted. He had to at least give him a chance …

"Yeah, fine," Matt insisted, voice cracking a little. "Look, it's late. I should get to bed. I just wanted to update you and thank you for giving me the heads up on Jeremy's situation. I don't think I would've paid as much attention if you hadn't, and god knows what would've happened."

"I'm glad I could help," said Elijah, a little disappointed. "Sleep well."

"Yeah, you too."

Matt got the call at 2am.

"Carol Lockwood is dead," said Caroline. "Ty needs you."

Matt barely remembered to wake Jeremy as he left, sprinting out of the house with Jer right behind him.

The police station was busier than it had any right to be at this time of night. Matt had been there this late once, while he and Caroline were dating, and it had been Liz and maybe two other officers.

Right now, it was buzzing with activity. As it should be. The mayor was dead.

"How much longer is this gonna take?" Jeremy asked, leg tapping on the breakroom floor.

"They're asking questions," said Caroline. "It shouldn't be that long. It just needs to be on record that they talked to him."

Right on cue, Tyler emerged from Liz's office, face haggard and eyes blank.

"Let's get you home, dude," said Matt, grabbing his attention as he walked past. "I'll drive. Jer and I can stay with you."

"Thanks," said Tyler, voice cold. "But I'd rather be alone right now."

Jeremy shook his head. "Come on, Ty—"

"Just leave it, Gilbert," Tyler bit back.

"Don't," Caroline said, stopping Matt from going after Tyler. "I'll take care of this. Just … you guys need to focus on Jeremy's situation. We'll see you at the assembly, okay?"

Matt forced himself to nod as he watched Tyler go over her shoulder. "Okay. But make sure he knows he can talk to us."

"He knows," Caroline promised. "It's just not helping right now."

Elijah saw the article on the local news app the next morning.

TOWN MAYOR LOST IN SUSPICIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES 

He didn't have to click on the article to know it was Klaus. He did so anyway, if only to know just what his brother had done.

By the time he'd finished, Elijah felt sick. Drowned in a fountain after a Christmas celebration. And for what? This ridiculous war with the hybrid, Tyler?

Elijah made the connection between Tyler and Matthew a moment later.

Pulling up the conversation with Matthew, he texted, I heard about Mayor Lockwood, and I am deeply sorry. Do you have time to talk?

Not on the phone, came the reply. I'm with Damon and Jeremy at the moment.

It made sense; if they spoke on the phone, Damon would hear them.

You can call me when you have time, said Elijah. I'll see what I can find out about what happened.

We know what happened. Please stay out of it. You're not supposed to be still in town.

Elijah sighed. I may be able to help.

You can't change anything.

I can try.

There was a break in messaging for a while, then, G2g, please don't do anything until we can talk.

Though it pained him, Elijah agreed. Call me once Jeremy is asleep. We need to talk about this.

He received no response.

Matt was an athlete. He wasn't just a quarterback, either—he'd run track, done marathons for town charity events, gone to the gym five times a week when Elena's parents bought him a year-long membership for Christmas one time.

Nothing on the field or the treadmill had quite prepared Matt for what it would feel like to run through the woods in the black of night, heart pounding as vampires shot after him, each compelled to go for his neck and not stop until he was dead.

Panting, Matt stopped behind a tree to try and catch his breath. His lungs burned, vision swimming. As soon as he had the energy, he looked back over his shoulder the way he came, finding nothing.

Time to keep going, then.

He turned around to find himself face-to-face with a vampire.

Teeth rammed into his neck, the bite meaty and clumsy and just short of anything vital. Matt cried out, struggling against the panic—

Thunk.

The vampire toppled over, crossbow bolt protruding from its back.

Jeremy.

They ran to lake house at full tilt, vampires spearing out of the trees around them. Jeremy felled them one by one, Damon bringing up the rear and tearing out hearts as necessary.

The moment Matt realised Jeremy wasn't beside him, his heart dropped into his gut. "Jeremy?" he called, panicked. "Where are you?"

"Keep going," Jeremy replied, still not in Matt's line of sight. "We're almost there."

Doing as instructed, Matt doubled his pace, making it twice as bad when he tripped over something—a tree root? A rock?

Rolling over, Matt found himself face-to-face with another vampire, this time dragging Matt towards him, fangs extended—

Until his neck snapped and he was thrown backwards off of Matt.

Elena loomed over him, but he barely saw her. She was going to kill him, going to feed—

"Are you okay?" she asked, brown eyes wide with concern. "Here, let me help you."

Forcing himself to calm—this was Elena, for God's sake—Matt let her help him up. She'd just started fussing over his neck when Jeremy caught up with them, dripping with sweat and panting heavily. "Get to the house!" he yelled. "Hurry!"

They barely made it in time before another wave of vampires came up behind them, banging at the doors.

"What the hell is going on?" Elena asked, locking the front door. It didn't matter so much; they couldn't get in regardless.

"Klaus," Jeremy bit out angrily. "He compelled them all to hunt Matt."

"Why?"

"Ask your boyfriend."

From the murderous look on Elena's face, she intended to do just that. "Come on," she told Matt. "The first aid kit's in the bathroom."

Matt left like a bat out of hell as soon as the sun came up. The newborns wouldn't have daylight rings, so he figured he was safe. No way did he want to stick around any longer than he had to, not with Elena's guilty looks and Damon's obnoxious rants about how he had no choice but to team up with Klaus, how it was all for the greater good, what the fuck ever.

Barely taking note of where he was driving, Matt found himself at Wickery Bridge, stopping just short of crossing. His heart was pounding again, and he was beginning to think it wasn't just the leftover adrenaline from the night before.

Pulling off onto the side of the road right before the bridge, Matt tried to force himself to calm, to breathe, to do anything. He ran his hands up and down his thighs, pressing in with his fingertips until they hurt. His palm found the shape of his phone in his pocket, and his heart dropped.

He hadn't called Elijah.

Pulling out the phone, he set about rectifying that immediately.

"Is everything all right?"

"I'm sorry I didn't call." Matt hated how his voice wobbled, how he couldn't keep it steady no matter how hard he tried. "I meant to. Things just got kind of messed up."

"Messed up how?" Elijah demanded. "Where are you?"

"Near the bridge. I—I don't think I can drive over it. Not after last time." Not when he could still see the shoddily patched up fence along the bridge, right where he'd ploughed through it.

"Would you like me to come get you?"

"Can you?"

"Of course. I'll be there shortly."

Elijah found Matthew's car parked on the opposite side of the bridge, his heartbeat racing from within. He could hear Matthew's breathing ease up as he noticed Elijah's arrival, and that was something at least.

Parking behind and walking to the truck, Elijah opened the driver's side. His gaze went immediately to the source of the stale, bloody scent in the air: a bandage on Matthew's neck. Swallowing back the anger, Elijah said, "Move along. I'll drive."

Matthew did as instructed, sliding along so he was in the passenger seat. "Thank you."

"Of course." Elijah hopped in and closed the door, tucking his own car keys into his jacket pocket. "Would you like me to drive you home?"

"I'm staying at the Gilberts'."

Elijah tried breathing through his mouth instead of his nose, if only to avoid the scent of blood, but he only ended up tasting it on his tongue instead. "I'm guessing you don't want to be there?"

"Not particularly. I was coming to take you up on your offer. I just didn't think about the bridge."

Of course. The bridge he'd run off of last time, right into the water Elijah could hear frothing and running below. "Would you like to try going over while I'm driving?"

Matthew nodded. "I might just close my eyes, if that's okay."

"Of course." Elijah put the truck in drive, pulling out onto the road again. Matthew's pulse skyrocketed as they moved over the bridge, Elijah maintaining a steady speed. They crossed to the other side in no time at all.

"We're over," Elijah announced, glancing sideways at Matthew, who had sweat beading over his forehead. "Are you all right?"

"Fine. Can we—can we keep going, please? I just need to be away from it."

"Of course." Elijah sped up, taking them away from the bridge, listening to Matthew's slowing heartbeat all the way.

The motel wasn't too far a drive. It was nice, if basic, painted in butter yellow with white trims. It was more of a bed-and-breakfast, really, though the recently painted sign out front stubbornly declared it Folger's Motel.

Elijah pulled Matthew's truck into the space by his motel room, right at the end of the block. Shutting off the vehicle, he asked, "Can you walk?"

Matthew nodded, opening his door and doing just that. His steps were slow, but that seemed to be more exhaustion than weakness. Regardless, Elijah stayed nearby, ready to intervene if he stumbled.

Elijah let Matthew into the room, inviting him to sit at the small table in the corner. He located some cold-pressed apple juice and packaged cookies in the minibar, setting them in front of him.

"Would you like some blood for your neck?"

"It's fine." Matthew avoided his gaze, cracking open the juice and taking a sip. He must have seen how Elijah's gaze was drawn to his neck, because he said, "It wasn't Elena."

"Do you remember who it was?"

"Yeah. I wasn't compelled." This time.

Elijah folded his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall. "Are you going to talk about what happened?"

Matthew fiddled with the packaging on his cookies. "It's not a big deal. I'm fine."

"Was it one of the Salvatores?"

"No, it—I don't know who they were. Some vampire Jer was trying to kill to finish off his tattoo. I've been helping him out."

Elijah resisted the urge to ball his hands into fists, standing stock-still instead. "Jeremy Gilbert is no longer human," he said. "He's a hunter, and he can finish the mark himself. Your assistance is not required, not when it puts you in danger."

"Don't worry. I doubt he'll want me around to get hurt after this."

"But as long as you're staying in that house with him—"

"I know, I know," said Matt, rubbing his face. "I'll figure things out. I might be reckless, but I don't actually enjoy being chowed down on." He sipped at his juice again, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "I just need a break before I get back into it."

"You can stay for however long you need."

"Thanks. It won't be that long, though. I have a shift this afternoon."

"Should you be working?"

"I should be earning money to pay bills, so yeah. I can't keep missing shifts."

Elijah watched Matt closely, how his eyes drooped, his shoulders slumped. "I'll go down the street to find something more substantial for you to eat," he said. "You should lie down, get some rest. A nap will rejuvenate you, and I'll brew coffee after that. Work should be easier after sleep and caffeine, maybe even food with some nutrition."

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to. Whatever is happening now, it started with my family. Let me repay you for your struggle."

Matthew obviously wanted to argue, and under any other circumstances he may have done, but he was already half-asleep just sitting up in his chair.

"Take the bed," said Elijah. "I'll wake you in an hour so you can eat and get ready for your shift." Matt's eyes opened a little and he sat up straighter. "I'll lock the door and take the keys, but you can still unlock it from the inside if you need to leave. And I'll walk so the truck is still here."

"Thank you," he mumbled, just as Elijah was on his way out.

"How did you sleep?" Elijah asked, setting the bowl of pasta down in front of Matt.

"Fine." Matt rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, surprised to find himself refreshed. "You didn't have to do this, not with the dodgy motel kitchen and all."

"You needed meat and carbohydrates; I was happy to deliver. Coffee?"

Matt swallowed his first bite of pasta, and damn it was good. "Maybe after?"

"Of course. I'll brew a pot." Elijah wandered into the tiny kitchenette area and set about making the coffee. "I bought some medical supplies as well, in case you felt like changing your bandage."

The bandage Elena had applied to his neck was itchy and loose now. "Yeah, sounds great."

"And you're welcome to take the supplies with you. I have no need of them, of course. Unless you anticipate arriving here injured and unannounced again."

Matt played with his pasta. "What do you want me to say? That this won't happen again? I thought we were being honest here."

"We are," Elijah affirmed, leaving the pot and walking over again. "We are being honest, which is why I have to ask: Do you honestly believe you weren't compelled last night? That your memories of your attack are your own?"

Matt remembered, all right. He remembered that Klaus had compelled all of those vampires to kill him, and he remembered the moment he realised that Elijah could never know about it. "Of course I can't be sure there was no compulsion. If there was, I wouldn't remember it."

"And therein lies the issue we face."

Matt spooned more flakes of parmesan onto his pasta, watching them dissolve in the sauce like wafers on a tongue.

"Have you been drinking vervain?"

"No."

"But you are not waiting for Elena to feed from you again?"

"No, I'm not. And before you offer, I have plenty of vervain. I just … every time I go to drink it, I think, what if it's today? What if today is the day I'm needed again? It's happened before, and if my blood is the one thing I can give to help people—"

"Not people, Matthew—vampires. Vampires who will survive starvation, who can be revived from desiccation, and who, most likely, have cheated death more times than there are breaths you have taken. I understand the need to protect Elena and Caroline, but the Salvatores will only use you. My family is the same. Exposing yourself like this will only ever bring you here, injured again and wondering if you trust your own mind." Elijah braced his hands on the table so he could look Matt in the eyes. "I will not tell you what to do. I will not coax or wheedle or manipulate, not as my brother has done to me a thousand times over. But I will ask you, please, take yourself into greater consideration."

"And how do you suggest I do that?"

"Drink vervain every morning. Learn how to grow it yourself, should your supplier fail you. Carry stakes in your vehicle, and practice using them. Don't invite strange vampires into your home. If you have cause to doubt those you have already invited in, call me, and I'll have the deed changed and someone else compelled to never invite anyone in unless it's on your say-so. And you know what I believe you should do about the compulsion you may have already suffered."

"The witch that can undo it."

"Yes."

Matt gave up eating, dropping his fork onto the plate and pushing it forward. "Even if I wanted to, I don't have time."

"I understand that, and I acknowledge that concealing this from your friends is important to you."

"And I appreciate—"

"But so is being in possession of your own mind. Starting on vervain doesn't stop compulsion you've already been placed under. Damage may already have been done, and every day you delay, you risk doing more. Is that a risk you are comfortable with taking?"

"Of course not, but I don't have a choice. Maybe if an opportunity presents itself, but that's not likely. There's always another drama around the corner." Matt stared Elijah down, finding the other man's gaze firm but not without compassion. "Look, I need to get going."

Elijah nodded, standing up straight. "I purchased some disposable cups. Change your dressing and I'll pour some coffee for you to drink on the way, hmm?"

They drove to the bridge together, Elijah stopping just beside where his own car was still parked on the side of the road.

"This is the third time you've been injured in the last two weeks, Matthew."

"I'll start taking vervain," Matt promised. "I don't want to be unsure. Not any more than I already am, anyway."

"Thank you."

"I'm not doing it for you, and you're not the one that should be saying thanks, so … thank you for having my back."

Elijah smirked. "A ghastly phrase, but yes, I do."

"I appreciate that. Hopefully the next time we talk won't be as …"

"Quite," Elijah agreed. "Take care."

"I will."

The next time Elijah saw Matthew was the following night. He heard Matthew's truck rumble into the parking lot outside the motel and peered through the curtains to check that it really was him.

He opened the door as Matthew approached. "You drove across the bridge," he said, more than a little proud. "That's progress."

Matthew did not respond in kind, face hard and drawn, heartbeat hammering nervously.

"What's going on?" Elijah asked. He scented the air. "You're not hurt."

"No, I'm not. I, uh, I just got a call from Elena."

Elijah stepped sideways. "Come inside and let's talk about it."

"You might not want me in there once you hear what I have to say."

What on earth was he talking about? "I told you that you were always welcome here, and I meant it. Please, come in and sit down. You don't have to fear me."

"I'm not afraid of you. I'm afraid of what I have to tell you."

Elijah steeled himself, reaching out to touch the doorframe. "Niklaus?"

"No." Matthew took a deep breath. "It's Kol. He's gone."

A tremor of something ran through Elijah, cracking something dark and deep wide open. "Gone where?"

"Gone as in … dead. Jeremy stabbed him with the white oak after he spent the day trying to cut off his arm."

Elijah froze. Surely, this wasn't unexpected. The situation was always going to escalate, and with Finn already dead …

But that was different. Finn had posited that they were monsters, had sided with their mother to eradicate them. Kol was no such thing. Kol was no betrayer. This was different.

Or perhaps the difference isn't who is dead, but who killed them, his mind supplied, because he would never fault Matthew for slaying Finn.

"I'm so sorry," Matthew was saying. "He tried to kill my friends, but I didn't want it to end like this."

Forcing back his anger, Elijah said, "What does Niklaus make of this?"

"He didn't seem to care."

"Of course not." Elijah cleared his throat. "Thank you for informing me, Matthew. Will you be needing any assistance with driving back over the bridge?"

"Uh, no. Look, Elijah—"

"Then thank you for your time."

He may not have wanted to, may not have been proud of it, but with tears pricking the backs of his eyes and fangs threatening to cut through his tongue, he had no choice. He closed the door in Matthew's face and hid away.

Days later found Matt knocking on Bonnie's door, barely hearing her, "Come in!" before entering. He found her packing in her room, shoving clothes into a duffel bag she'd definitely borrowed from someone.

"Hey, Matt."

"What's going on?"

"Elena didn't tell you?"

"I haven't really been kept in the loop lately." Matt did try not to sound bitter. Try being the operative word.

"We found out where the cure is. Everyone's heading to the island where it's hidden now."

"Woah, okay." Matt blinked, processing. "I'll get packing—" He cut himself off at the look on Bonnie's face. "Except that I'm not going."

"Sorry, Matt. No room."

Story of my life. He bit the words back; bitterness was never helpful. "Will you try to stay in contact? Let me know what's happening?"

Bonnie reached over to touch his shoulder. "Of course we will. Everything will be fine, Matt. We'll get the cure for Elena, and everything will be fine."

Matt covered her hand with his own and squeezed. He almost believed her.

"So, uh, Elijah, it's me, Matt. I know you probably don't want to hear from me right now but I wanted to keep you informed. They found the cure's location through Jer's Mark, and most of them are headed to the island now. Klaus is staying, along with Caroline, Ty, and me. Rebekah's going, too. So if you wonder where she is … that's where. I'm really sorry about what's happened, but I hope things work out for everyone and we can go our separate ways.

"Anyway, I, uh, have to get going. Stuff to do. Again, I—I'm really sorry."

Elijah didn't return the call. Instead, he turned up at Matt's place the morning after everyone left.

Matt had just woken and was still desperately trying to push his hair down where it spiked up at the crown when Elijah all but invited himself inside. "Elijah, it's—it's good to see you." Matt grabbed the pizza boxes from the coffee table, kicking stuff aside to try and make the place more presentable. "I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you."

"My apologies for not calling ahead. I've been … occupied."

"Understandable. Would you like to sit?"

Elijah shook his head. "I won't stay long."

"Right, yeah." Matt tucked his hands into his pockets, ramming them as deep as they'd go. Of course Elijah wouldn't want to stay. His brother was dead. Matt didn't know why he was even still in town.

"I wanted to know if you would like me to call my associate to remove your compulsion." Nothing on Elijah's face betrayed any emotion. "You have expressed that it is difficult to find time in between disasters, but as the current situation is occurring elsewhere and you are without the company of either Elena or the Salvatores …"

Matt blinked, feeling more than a little stupid. "I thought … I didn't think you'd want anything to do with me."

"I made an offer. I don't intend to go back on it."

Right, obviously. This was just Elijah being Elijah, and it didn't mean he'd forgiven Matt for being involved in two of his brothers' deaths. "Are you sure?"

"I have nothing else arranged for the next few days. I can have them come, assist you, and leave with little to no disruption to my schedule."

"Okay, then … yes. I would appreciate that."

Elijah nodded tightly. "Then I will make the arrangements and let you know. Would you prefer to do it here or elsewhere?"

"Uh, here, if that's okay. Unless it needs to be somewhere else."

"Here is fine." Elijah pulled his phone from his pocket, tapping a message into it faster than was humanly possible, fingers blurring effortlessly. Once finished, he tucked it back into his jacket pocket and met Matt's gaze. "I'll be seeing you."

As he turned to leave, Matt considered saying something. Maybe I'm sorry, however trite it felt.

Elijah was gone before he could make up his mind.

Matt didn't hear from Elijah again until that night, his phone buzzing and waking him up from a beer nap around 5pm. He answered it with unsteady hands. "Yeah?"

"It's been arranged. We'll be at your residence in the morning."

"Oh, uh, thank you." He blinked sleep from his eyes, trying desperately to think more clearly. "I appreciate this, Elijah."

"I gave you my word."

"Yeah, you mentioned. Still. You didn't have to do this."

Silence. "I'll see you tomorrow. 9am."

The line clicked, leaving Matt with silence. 9am, great. That meant he had … 16 hours to over analyse every conversation he'd had with Elijah on the subject of compulsion. Sounds fun.

Matt woke early the next morning. Whether from nerves or because he'd become accustomed to it for early shifts, he didn't know. He just knew that he was wide awake at 6am, staring at the early morning light like it offended him.

The coffee was unnecessary (and not cheap), but he found he needed something to do that felt like preparation. He didn't know exactly what this would be like, but Elijah had said it was a long, painful process the first time he'd brought it up. Matt could only steel himself so much for something he didn't understand.

Maybe he should call Elijah, just to ask him more questions. It would help put his mind at ease.

Unfortunately for him, he'd relinquished that right several dead brothers ago.

Elijah arrived at 8:50. Matt was already dressed, the house as clean as it would get while he couldn't afford decent cleaning supplies, and while he'd spent the last hour telling himself he was ready it took only one glance at Elijah to know that he really, really wasn't.

"Is something wrong?" were the first words out of Elijah's mouth, obviously prompted by Matt's waxen complexion.

"No, it's fine. Come in." He stepped aside, giving Elijah a wide berth. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"I'm fine. Have you eaten?"

"I … had coffee. Why?"

Elijah perched on the sofa, shrugging off his … sports coat? Matt hadn't realised he owned one of those, let alone the T-shirt underneath. "It's going to be a long day. It's best you keep your strength up."

"I'll be fine." Matt meant it as a reassurance, but the uncertainty in his tone presented it as a question: Will I be fine?

Elijah either didn't catch the hidden query or ignored it altogether. "They'll be here soon. Are you doing this here or in your room? You'll want somewhere comfortable to lie down."

The bedroom was still a mess that Matt didn't care to have examined, so he said, "Here? The sofa works, right?"

"It should."

Silence fell again, leaving Matt off-kilter. He leaned against the wall, pulling the arms of his sweater down to cover his hands—a nervous tic from childhood he'd never quite grown out of.

"Look, Elijah—"

The sound of an engine interrupted Matt, a car coming to a halt outside and a door opening. He peered out the window to see someone with long hair and broad shoulders leaning into the backseat of their beat-up VW beetle, emerging with a large leather case of some description. They shut the door with their hip, then set the case on the roof of the car while they fiddled with the locking mechanism for at least a minute.

Not exactly conspicuous. Matt could only hope that Tyler and Caroline were spending the day together, as planned, and wouldn't be coming this way.

The visitor tread almost daintily over the grass, tapping up onto the front porch with loud clacks. "Yoo-hoo!"

Matt registered Elijah standing in his peripheral vision as he moved to open the front door and greet the newcomer. Up close, he could see the purple streaks through their hair, a canary yellow blouse almost as bright as the lime green eyeliner pasted liberally over their eyelids, verdant sparkles falling down to dust the dark skin of their cheeks.

Elijah appeared at Matt's side, stepping forward to take the case from them. "Nice to see you again, Allie."

Allie's smile widened upon seeing Elijah, becoming almost wild. "Long time no see, old man."

Returning the smile, Elijah said, "And this is Matthew Donovan."

Allie turned their beaming grin on Matt, sticking their hand out for him to shake. "Lovely to meet you."

"So," began Elijah. "Let's get this over and done with."

Elijah could tell Matthew was nervous. Even if he hadn't been able to hear his heartbeat, he would've known from the the too-wide smiles and the way he laughed at Allie's sad attempts at humour (and Allie was categorically unfunny, in Elijah's books).

Matthew ended up lying prostrate on the sofa, as he suggested, with his feet almost hanging off one end. A towel was bundled up under his head for the sweat, and Allie—blessed, forward-thinking Allie—had thought to have him fetch one of his mouthguards to stop him from biting his own tongue.

Looming over him, Allie rubbed their hands together. "Now, no looking up my skirt, you hear?"

"You're wearing jeans."

"Oh, right you are." Allie chuckled, but this time, Matthew's smile was only a weak one. "Are you ready, Matt?"

"How long will this take?"

"A few hours. We can take breaks, but that'll only prolong it. Have you eaten?"

"No. Should I?"

"Are you feeling hungry?"

"Not particularly."

Allie shook their head. "Best not to push—eating this close to it will only end in vomit anyway. We can take a break for some crackers, maybe some juice later. Sound good?"

Matthew nodded, seeming placated. Allie was good that way. Of all the people Elijah could've called, they really were the best option for this sort of work. Perhaps not as quick as the others, but more comforting, less abrasive. There was also the small matter of how much he'd missed them, outrageously bright tops and all.

"All right. Let's get started."

Elijah pulled a chair in from the kitchen table, pushing it behind Allie's knees until they were forced to sit. They shot him an irritated look, then turned their attention back to Matthew, spreading their hands out on either side of his head.

"Mouth guard," Elijah reminded.

Matthew met his gaze briefly before putting it in, biting down and lying back, staring up at the ceiling. His hands were already fists at his sides.

"Here we go," Allie said, and then began.

Matt had felt a lot of pain in his life. Nothing like this.

He was going to die. This was going to kill him. He was going to die, right here in this house with a stranger splitting his head open with some fucking spell—

"Breathe, Matthew."

Matt tried to spit a curse back at Elijah, because what a ridiculous reminder to give, but then his vision danced a little and oh, maybe he hadn't been breathing after all—

Elijah saw Matthew's eyes roll back, his body going slack even as the spell continued. "Should he be unconscious?"

"It happens sometimes. For the best, really. This first part is the worst."

"Should he regain consciousness soon? When does it become a concern?"

"When I decide it does," Allie replied, tone as close to sharp as it ever got. "Sit down, Elijah. It's going to be a long day."

Begrudgingly doing as he was told, Elijah sat on one of the armchairs, gaze fixed on the beads of sweat already forming on Matthew's forehead.

Matt opened his eyes to a world that was dimmer than he remembered, blurred at the edges. The pain in his head had retreated to a dull throb, and he could see Allie's face hovering above him.

Spitting out the mouthguard, he asked, "S'it over?"

"Not yet," said Allie. "But we're halfway, and Elijah got some food for you. Do you think you can sit up for me?"

Matt struggled, but he managed it. The food Elijah had procured was the promised crackers, some orange juice, and what looked like pale grated carrot.

"It's apple," Elijah said from the arm chair he'd set himself up in. "Helps settle your stomach."

Matt tried to nod, but the world swam with the movement. "Thank you."

Still feeling a little woozy, he struggled to keep the food down, but managed it. He was hungry, and it was something, at least.

"Do you want to continue?" asked Allie. "We can wait longer if you need it."

"No. I want to get this over and done with." Matt brushed the crumbs off his hands with a napkin.

"You should know that you probably won't pass out for the next part. It'll still hurt, but you'll be conscious, aware of the weight lifting from your mind. Memories will resurface, not all of them good."

"That's kind of the point, isn't it?"

"They're making sure you're prepared for it," said Elijah. "As you should be."

"I'm prepared. Just, please, can we get this done?"

Allie nodded. "Lie back."

For the second round, Matthew screamed. At least, he would have without the mouthguard. Elijah itched to stand, to pace, to do something, but there was nothing he could do to contribute. All he could do was sit there, as useless as the furniture he sat on.

It took another two hours and what seemed like a never-ending stream of tears down Matthew's temples, but eventually he went limp as the spell ended. Blinking slowly, Matt struggled even with the task of pulling the guard from his mouth.

"I—" His voice cracked, dry and raw and dissolving into coughs. Cursing himself for the lack of forethought, Elijah used vampire speed to get a glass of water from the kitchen, almost breaking the tap in the process. He handed it to Allie, who helped Matthew sit up and take a few long, slow sips.

"How are you feeling?" asked Allie.

"Tired."

"Understandable. Do you remember anything?"

Matthew wiped at his tears, at the sweat dripping from his nose. "I remember everything."

Allie fussed for the better part of the afternoon, writing out instructions for Matthew:

No swimming unsupervised for a week

Eat light until your stomach settles

Sit down in the shower

Apply a cold compress to your head before bed

Take aspirin

Drink vervain, or I'll come back to do it again

Name your firstborn after me

Perhaps Matthew would appreciate their sense of humour when he was feeling a little better. At least, that's what Elijah told them as they stood by their car, the afternoon light refracting off the warped windshield that Elijah was certain wasn't legal.

"Seems like an intense guy."

"He's had reason to be."

"If he needed this spell, then I'd bet so." Allie set their case down in the backseat again. Elijah wasn't sure why they brought it around everywhere despite not needing a fraction of the items inside, but they were a "be prepared" kind of person. "Are you going to be sticking around?"

"If possible."

"Good, because he'll need it. The physical ramifications of the spell are nothing compared to the kinds of memories that resurface. As you well know, a vampire wouldn't go burying memories of happy events. This is a whole different kind of trauma."

"You do this spell a lot?"

"Vampires compel a lot. You and I know that better than anyone."

Elijah nodded but chose not to respond to that particular comment. "Thank you for doing this. Expect payment in your account."

"You mean other than the deposits I find magically dumped in there every time I check? Stop fretting about me. I'm a legitimate businessperson."

"I don't think anyone with marijuana in their car can call themselves that."

"What? I don't sell it. It just happens to take the edge off. And you know me, Uncle—I'm all edges."

Elijah chuckled as Allie embraced him, tucking themself under his chin.

"I missed you, and so does Mom. You should come by sometime, when you're not playing white knight to high schoolers."

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"It also makes my mom get pissier." Allie released him at last, stepping back. "Also, just as a quick aside …"

Elijah rolled his eyes. "Whatever it is, give me a figure and I'll have it in your account by the end of the day."

"It's not money, Uncle. God. Though I'd rather talk money than this." Allie bit their lip, hard. "The bitch is back."

"That's no way to discuss your ex-girlfriends."

"Not mine, actually. Yours."

Elijah stilled. "Katerina?"

"The one and only. She's been poking around your old associates, trying to get in touch with you. Mom told her to fuck off, but I didn't get a feeling she liked that."

"Did she do anything? Threaten anyone?"

"Nope. I guess she doesn't want you to kill her when you see her. But if you don't respond, who knows what she'll do to get your attention."

"Mm. I'll take care of it. If she stops by again, call me immediately. I don't want her bothering you."

"No arguments here." Allie went quiet, looking him over. "You seem different."

"I am different. No longer bound to my brother's whims, if you'd believe it."

Allie considered him. "No, I don't believe it. You're not free enough for that."

"Do I strike you as a man easily trapped?"

"By Klaus? Yes. As soon as he calls for help, you'll go running. Just like you're already planning on running to Katherine."

"You just suggested that I contact her."

"No. If you're taking suggestions, mine is that you kill her. I don't like how she talks about you. It's like she owns you or something. She's just Klaus with boobs."

"And thank you for that lovely image, Allie. As always, it's been a pleasure. Drive safely."

Allie's grin wasn't as easy as it should have been. "Please be careful with them. Katherine and your brother, they mess you around. Don't let them."

"Don't give me advice. I used to change your diapers."

"Sixty years ago."

"Still, you don't look a day over forty."

"Try thirty." Allie poked their tongue out, revealing the stud buried in it. "I'll see you soon, okay? Mom misses you."

"I miss her as well, and I'll come when I can. Drive safely."

"You said that."

"Because you're terrible at it."

"I'm a creative person. I don't always color inside the lines. Or drive inside them."

Elijah sighed heavily, feigning irritation at the joke he'd heard a thousand times before. "I'll see you soon, Allie."

"See you soon, Uncle. Take care of Matt."

They blew him a kiss before hopping in the car, starting up the sputtering engine, and speeding off down the road.

Matt sat in the semi-darkness of his living room, the curtains drawn and all the lights off. His head still hurt, though the aspirin had taken the edge of. He'd turned down the weed Allie offered, despite their insistence that it was ideal for people in his condition. He had no intention of getting arrested, and he didn't have magic to get himself out of it.

Elijah returned after an hour of talking to Allie outside, a faint smile still on his lips. Until he spotted Matt, that is.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, closing the front door as softly as he could.

"Could be better, could be worse." Matt rearranged the cold compress on his head. "You don't have to stay, you know."

"I disagree." Elijah returned to the armchair, sinking into the cushions. "What did you remember?"

Vicki telling him she was attacked by a vampire, and Stefan covering it up. Caroline feeding on him after she turned, and Stefan covering it up. Elena almost draining him, and Damon covering it up, plus leaving him for dead.

"A bunch of stuff. Nothing we couldn't have guessed." Nothing I can tell you without you ripping them all apart.

"You don't have to edit your responses for me. Tell me the truth, Matthew."

"You shouldn't worry about it. I'm getting on vervain again. Everything's going to be fine."

"The memories that have resurfaced are going to make things a little less than fine, Matthew. It helps to talk about these things, and who else can you discuss them with?"

"I have Jeremy." Matt sighed. "Look, Elijah, I get it. I know you don't want to be around me, and you shouldn't have to stick around out of some messed up sense of duty. You should go."

"I'm here to help you—"

"Because you promised. And you have helped, you've fulfilled your obligation, and it's over. Just … you should leave."

Elijah drew back a little, masking his hurt. "I can return in the morning, then."

"No, Elijah. Leave town. Klaus doesn't give a shit about you. Rebekah went to the other side of the world without telling you. Kol and Finn are gone. You don't have to stay. There's nothing keeping you here but promises that other people broke a long time ago, and you shouldn't have to keep them anymore."

Elijah went silent for a moment. "You shouldn't be alone after the spell."

"Jer will be back in a few days. He'll come back to stay, and I'll be fine." It would be fine, he reasoned. Just as long as he could get past everything that had happened, everything he remembered, he'd be fine. Jer would help him. "I have a support system, Elijah. You should go and find yours. Preferably one that doesn't involve anyone that's killed your brothers."

"Finn deserved what he got for what he did—"

"But he was still you brother. So was Kol." Matt leaned forward, looking Elijah in the eye. "You need to leave. For good. Stop using me as an excuse to stay here, because I'm not answering the door for you anymore. This, whatever it was … it's over now."

Elijah drew back, gaze chilly. "All right, then." He stood, gathering his coat but not bothering to put it on. "I'm so sorry to have inconvenienced you."

It wasn't the truth, and he'd certainly never been inconvenient, but arguing meant backtracking, and Matt would rather just watch Elijah go and let it be. So he did.

How was he to know he'd come to regret that?

Elijah pulled the car over halfway back to the motel, hands squeezing the wheel so hard they split the leather cover. Taking a few deep breaths to steady himself, he picked up his phone, searching through his contacts for Allie.

Did Katherine mention where I could find her? he sent. They didn't text while driving, but once they pulled in for a coffee or something undoubtedly carcinogenic they'd see it, and Elijah would have his answer.

All he had to do before then was start packing.

Matt slept in the next morning, dismissing his alarm happily. He woke again later to what he thought was another alarm—until he scrambled for it and saw Caroline's smiling face on his screen, the pulsing green phone symbol winking at him.

Swiping it along, Matt answered it still lying down, head spinning.

"Matt?"

Just the sound of her voice was enough to remind him of that fresh, raw memory, of her mouth painted with his blood. "Uh, yeah, I'm here. Is everything okay?"

Silence.

"You need to get over here. To Elena's house."

"They're back?"

"Matt, you need to come over."

Forcing himself to sit up, Matt rubbed at his eyes. "What's going on, Care?"

"It's …" Her breathing brushed down the line, heavy and tense. "It's Jeremy."

"What about him—is he hurt?"

Once he’d dozed off, just after a dose of vampire blood to clear up his head injury, Elijah was left with the remained of the rum and the stretch of the early morning hours ahead of him. He downed another mug of the stuff, just enough to start feeling its effects, and bid his goodbyes in the form of a note.

He was already texting his assistant as he left.

Matt woke with a headache pounding like a siren in his head, washing over him with a nausea unlike anything he’d ever felt. He sat up, head swimming and limbs flying as he knocked the coffee table, something rattling and sloshing on top of it.

Ah. A mug full of tap water and a bottle of aspirin.

Matt scooped up the aspirin, breaking the seal on the bottle (where had Elijah gotten a new one during the night?) and downing two with the water. He located the accompanying note, the writing a little smudged from the spilt water.

Matthew,

I have family matters to attend to today, as I’m sure you understand. If you become concerned about the vampire blood in your system I am a phone call away.

You will also find some rudimentary breakfast supplies on your doorstep, courtesy of my assistant. There are some perishables among them, but I estimated your waking time to be 8am and hope that a 7.30 delivery will suffice for them to be brought inside without spoiling.

Regards,

Elijah

Matt dropped the letter back onto the table and reached for his phone, finding the battery dead. He plugged it in to charge, hands shaking clumsily as he tried to drive the plug home, then went out to find the groceries.

Milk, orange juice, eggs, bacon, and bread.

Sometimes being kind-of-friends with an Original was a bad idea. Other times it was the best idea he’d ever had.

Matt dined on bacon and eggs and the freshest juice he’d ever tasted outside of the Gilbert household. It may have been “rudimentary”, in Elijah’s words, but to a hungover teenager it felt like the breakfast of champions.

His phone was finally charged enough to function by the time he was done, and, lo and behold, he had about 20 text messages from Caroline.

Oh, yeah. Ty.

Overcome with shame at having almost forgotten, Matt flicked through the texts as quickly as possible.

(11:54pm) Matt I need to talk to u

(12:05am) MATT

(12:32am) Matt where r u? I went to hospital, ur not there

(12:45am) Matt I’m starting to get worried??? Call me pls

(1:12am) Matt Donovan I swear to god if you don’t tell me where you are right now I’ll do something we both regret

The later the timestamp on each message progressed the more Matt could hear the desperation in Caroline’s voice in his head. He tapped out a quick response: Care, I’m home, I’m fine, I can come and meet you? Where are you?

Her response came moments later: I’m at the hospital. Thought you might have been moved to a different room.

It’s 9am. You’ve been there for hours?

Elena woke up. Salvatores took her home and I couldn’t find you after.

Wanna meet somewhere?

Yes, please. Ppl are looking for me though, can’t really drive through town

I’ll meet you back at the hospital. It was the last place Matt wanted to go, but if Caroline needed him there, it was where he would be.

He just needed to find the cash to order a cab first, because his car was at the bottom of the river.

He found $200 in his wallet that he didn’t remember putting there. Matt most certainly did not live the kind of lifestyle where you could put $200 anywhere and then forget about it, so there was only one place it could’ve come from.

Whatever. If Elijah needed help feeling better about what Rebekah did, Matt wasn’t going to stop him.

After a quick meeting with a distraught Caroline, Matt made his way to the Gilberts’. He didn’t know if he’d be welcome—he didn’t feel like he should be—but he had to see if Elena was all right. He couldn’t help Care, but if he could do anything to make the transition easier on Elena, he would.

He approached the house tentatively, almost as though the residence itself was a wild animal in need of taming. Matt couldn’t remember being this nervous walking up to the front door since his first date with Elena.

The nerves right now were different, obviously.

Knocking on the door, Matt let himself in, peeking inside with no small amount of trepidation and finding Damon, Meredith, and Sheriff Forbes congregated in the living room.

One moment he was asking about Elena. The next he was up against the wall, Damon’s hands around his neck.

It was like drowning all over again.

Damon said something, something Matt couldn’t hear over the rushing of blood in his ears. He clawed at the hands around his throat, trying desperately to free himself, knowing he probably didn’t even deserve that—

And then he was released.

Matt barely managed to stay on his feet, gulping air down like water, ironically.

“That’s enough,” said Liz, tone final. “It’s not his fault, Damon, not any more than it is yours. Now shut up and help us find Pastor Young.”

“Pastor Young?” asked Matt, voice weak.

Liz continued addressing Damon “With your vervain and Alaric’s weapons, they could be anywhere.”

“Come on guys, think,” said Damon, apparently already bouncing back from murderous rage. “It takes a lot to hold a vampire. Reinforced steel, iron doors …”

“The pastor has a cattle ranch,” Matt said. “Those pens could easily be modified.” He knew; he’d locked April Young in one of them once, back when they were kids.

“It’s remote, it’s secluded …” said Meredith, starting to nod.

To his credit, Matt did try not to flinch when Damon turned back to face him. “Well, guess what? Looks like you get a chance to prove how sorry you really are. Let’s go.”

Not having much of a choice in the matter, Matt let himself be dragged on.

The car trip was awkward, to say the least. Matt had developed an all new loathing for cars after last night’s trip off the Wickery Bridge and he already hated Damon, so it wasn’t a fun combination for him.

As they pulled up at the ranch, Matt craned his neck to see into the back seat. Yep, no weapons.

Deciding against silence, Matt inquired about it as they got out of the car.

“Nah, we don’t need weapons,” Damon assured him. “Just bait.”

And then there were fangs in his neck.

Matt didn’t hear much after that. Pastor Young opened the door, and he and Damon exchanged words. Matt laid on the ground the whole time, hand over his neck as he groaned in pain.

And then Damon got shot. It sucked because of what they were there to do, but god it was a good sound.

They lay out on the ground for a while, Matt trying to crawl towards the house. Two more guys came out to get Damon but he attacked them, snapping one neck and stabbing the other guy with his own rifle. Brutal, but effective.

Matt tried to keep crawling toward the house only to find himself kicked in the ribs.

Sprawled out on his back, Matt groaned in pain. “Go ahead and kill me,” he told Damon, breathless. “You can’t possibly hate me more than I hate myself.”

Damon grinned. “Oh, yes I can.” His foot came down on Matt’s throat, cutting off his airway and it was like he was drowning—

And then it stopped, and Elena was screaming, “Leave him alone!” Her eyes were glowing red and fangs gleamed in her mouth.

She’d done it. She’d become a vampire.

Matt couldn’t handle the reunion for long, hauling himself to his feet and stumbling over to the barn. They were probably still trapped there, he thought, he had to get them out—

He fell to the floor upon entry, finding the cells all open and only Stefan in there. He rushed over to Matt, biting open his wrist and shoving it into his mouth without so much as asking first.

As soon as he had the strength, Matt shoved him away. He didn’t want to be saved. Not anymore.

Elijah had opted not to stay at the mansion the next day. He booked himself a room at a hotel in town instead, spending the day there collecting his thoughts. Rebekah hadn’t returned any of his calls and he hadn’t heard from Matthew, either, so he was left at rather a loose end.

Until his phone finally buzzed in his pocket at around 9pm, yielding Rebekah’s hysterical voice.

“Calm down,” said Elijah, pacing the length of his hotel room. “What happened?”

“The bastard is alive, Elijah. He’s alive and he didn’t even tell us.”

“But how?”

“He made a pact with the Bennet witch. She put him into Tyler Lockwood’s body, and now he’s back in his own. Cheated death again and didn’t even see fit to let us in on his plan.”

Elijah ignored the anger that surged through him at this revelation, that his brother had let him grieve so painfully for his loss when it could so easily have been avoided. “I’ll go and see him to explain the issue at hand—”

“And then he left me to die, Elijah. He left me with some mad vampire hunter while he rescued Caroline, leaving me to rot. He left me!”

“Perhaps he didn’t see that you were there, Rebekah.”

“He saw me, ‘Lijah. He looked right at me. I escaped and confronted him about it and he told me he never wanted to see me again, that I’m nothing to him.”

Elijah closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll speak with him, Rebekah. You know he didn’t mean that.”

“I don’t know anything anymore.” She sniffed. “Elijah, I spilled all of Elena’s blood. She’s a vampire now and he can’t get any more. He’ll never forgive me for that.”

“We’re family, Rebekah. Always and forever. He will forgive you for anything, believe me. Just have some faith.”

“I’ll try.” He heard her take a deep breath on the other end, blowing it out until it was loud enough to make the line crackle. “I’ll leave you boys to your confrontation, then. He’s at the house, but don’t expect me to be.”

“I won’t. Take care of yourself, sister.”

“You too.” She hung up without another word, never one to waste them.

The house reeked of blood when Elijah arrived. Elena’s blood, to be more specific.

Had Rebekah not forewarned him, Elijah might have been concerned. As it was he found the pools of drying blood and ruined living room to be precisely as he expected, as was his brother’s haggard appearance.

“Rebekah called you,” he said, frighteningly calm as he stood amidst the bloody wreckage.

“She did.”

“She always was a snitch.”

“We believed you were dead, Niklaus,” said Elijah, emotion clouding his voice and straining his vocal chords until they were almost painful. “We thought you were gone forever at the hands of that hunter. And you let us believe it, didn’t prepare us for what was to come, for what?”

“I needed your grief to be genuine.”

Elijah gave no warning before he attacked, slamming his brother into the wall hard enough to send chips of plaster flying. “Was that genuine enough for you?” he asked, voice raw. “Would you like more?”

Klaus tossed him back like he weighed nothing. “Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t have time to tell you anyway.”

“You could have found it! You could have tried for once to consider anyone but yourself—”

“Why would I do that?” Klaus demanded, arms spread wide like they always were when he was grandstanding. “I’ve seen what living like that does to you, running around with your nose in everyone’s business—”

“Oh, please, like you know the half of what I do!”

“You had Mother’s body taken away before I even knew she was dead, and you weren’t even in town!”

That had been Matthew, not Elijah, but he couldn’t tell Klaus that. “Why wouldn’t I keep control of things? It’s not like you can manage without me!”

Klaus laughed. “You really think that’s true, don’t you?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” Elijah replied. “Because I’m done being your lackey. You’re on your own, Niklaus.”

And he left.

Stefan dropped him home in one of the cars he’d hotwired at the farm. Matt ignored him for most of the way.

“Thanks,” he bit out before getting out of the car, because he wasn’t born in a barn. He just almost died in one half an hour ago.

Hauling himself up the front steps, Matt found another note resting on the welcome mat.

Matthew,

Having discovered that my brother survived Alaric’s attack and is currently free and in possession of his own body, something which he did not see fit to inform me of prior to making the deal to protect himself, I have decided to go on a sabbatical. As always, I will be accessible via mobile phone should you need anything.

Thank you for the rum and company,

Elijah

Scrunching it up in his fist, Matt ignored the angry, violent thing welling up in his chest and went inside the empty house.

The news was all over town the next morning.

Pastor Young and the Council had been killed in an explosion at his house.

At first Matt wondered if Caroline and Tyler were involved somehow. Not that they would do that, but the Council was threatening them and forcing them to leave town, and it was convenient for them all to be gone now. Maybe Damon had done it in the name of helping Elena keep her friends around, maybe it was his way of apologising for almost killing Matt, to just kill more people—

“It wasn’t Damon,” said Caroline, pulling in at the high school. “And it definitely wasn’t for us.”

“Then who was it?”

“We don’t know, but maybe we’ll figure it out. Right now, our main focus is the memorial. Do you need a ride later?”

“No, Jer’s taking me over to the church once we load the supplies from the student council.”

“Okay!” said Caroline. “Have fun, and I’ll see you there.” She kissed his cheek before he got out.

Matt was proud of the set-up for the memorial service. He’d worked hard, they all had, and it was nice to see it play out well.

That is, until Elena started losing control at the podium.

Stefan helped her down and back into the row beside Matt, trying to mask her panic as grief.

Apparently, someone was bleeding.

“Get her out of here,” Matt told Stefan.

Stefan shook his head. “I can’t. There’s somebody watching us.”

Well, shit.

The argument continued, Damon seconds away from leaping up onto the balcony and killing whoever was doing this when Matt finally suggested, “Elena, feed from me.” There was no other way.

She seemed about to protest, but Stefan pushed her towards Matt. She tucked her head into his shoulder as though crying, her fangs sliding into his neck.

Right where Damon had bitten him not two days ago.

Fighting back panic of his own, Matt kept a solemn facial expression and wrapped an arm around Elena’s shoulders as though he was comforting her.

When she finally pulled away, she thanked him and wiped her mouth surreptitiously. Matt ignored the feeling of blood sliding down along his collarbone and flipped his collar up to hide the wound.

He didn’t know what the chances were of them all surviving this, but he didn’t think they were good.

Matt could admit when he was wrong, especially when he was glad to be wrong. Everyone lived, even April, who had been stabbed by some hunter in an attempt to draw them out. She’d been healed and compelled and Elena hadn’t killed anyone, though half the town thought Tyler was dead after he got shot ten times in front of them all.

They survived the memorial for long enough to have one of their own. Matt could only be grateful that Damon bailed, thinking it was lame, because that was the only way he could really relax.

They lit their lanterns, naming those they remembered, and released them into the sky. As Matt watched his lantern float away, he wondered how different from Vicki he really was. Resting a hand on the bandage over his neck he watched her go, lighting up the sky all the way.

Elena drove Matt home after the memorial, silent all the while.

When they pulled up, she turned to face him. “I wanted to thank you and apologise and … say a hundred other things, and I don’t know which to go for first.”

“Don’t worry about it—”

“No, Matt, you saved my life in there. You saved me, and I’m so grateful. If you hadn’t let me feed then I don’t know what would’ve happened, so thank you for that.”

He wanted to say it was no big deal, but it was. Nodding carefully, he said, “Any time. And you might need more, you know. If you can only drink fresh blood for whatever reason, then you’ll need a donor.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t.” I owe you. “I’m offering. Whatever you need, I can do it. And it’s better than hunting strangers, right? I’m consenting. I’m okay with it. How often do you need to feed?”

“Two or three times a day. Matt, are you—”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Matt reached over to squeeze her shoulder. “You saved me. Let me do this for you.”

Nodding, Elena said, “Okay.”

Matt popped open a beer and thumbed through the contacts list on his phone, pretending to himself that he was perusing options and didn’t already know exactly who he wanted to talk to.

He kicked his feet up on the table as he waited for the phone to dial.

“Good evening, Matthew.”

“Hey, Elijah. How are you?”

“Maddeningly unoccupied now that I exist independently from my brother’s whims. And yourself?”

“I’m okay.”

“What happened?”

“Uh, Elena fed on me.”

A sharp intake of breath on the other end. “I can be there in a few hours—”

“No, it wasn’t like that. I gave her permission. It was a tense situation.”

“What happened?”

“There’s a vampire hunter in town. Apparently he wants to draw out his prey, so he waited for the memorial service and stabbed a friend of mine so the vampires would reveal themselves at the scent of blood. Everyone survived, but Elena needed to feed on me so she wouldn’t reveal herself.”

“Who’s idea was this? If Damon Salvatore intends to use you as some sort of blood bag—”

“It was my idea. I knew it was a possibility, which is why I didn’t take vervain. I wanted to be ready if she needed anything.”

“Matthew, you aren’t beholden to her. She chose to request that you be saved in the river because she was the one conscious; had you also been awake, I’m sure you would have told Stefan to take her. Circumstances beyond your control are not something you have to compensate for, especially not by putting yourself in danger.”

“I’m not trying to compensate. I just want to help her.”

Elijah paused. “I suppose an isolated event can’t hurt. Just … be careful. I can have some more vervain shipped to you if you need it.”

“I have heaps, but thanks for the offer.”

“She’s a vampire now, Matthew. She is changed. You cannot rely on her as you once did, so please, take precautions.”

Precautions like not agreeing to be fed on indefinitely? A bit late for that. “I will,” he said. He didn’t know why he didn’t bring up his offer to Elena. Maybe because he knew Elijah wouldn’t think it was a good idea. Maybe because he was worried Elijah would be right.

“Where are you right now?” Matt asked. “Enjoying a Klaus-free life again?”

“I’m staying in a motel in town. I was going to leave, but a part of me is waiting for him to apologise.”

“Are you at least enjoying a Klaus-free life while you can?”

“Honestly, I’m finding it difficult to relax. I expect a dead body around every corner.”

“Maybe that’ll fade in time.”

“That suggests that there will be time for it to fade. I expect Klaus will reel me back in at some point or another.”

“You still have hope for his redemption?”

“Hope is one thing my family has been lacking for some time, but yes. I do wish for it.”

“You know that talking like me owing Elena for saving me is wrong and then insisting that you owe your brother protection and loyalty is kind of hypocritical, right? He’s done nothing for you. The first time you sided with him against us you ended up with a dagger in your heart.”

“I have experience with my brother beyond what you’re aware of. His capacity for good isn’t commendable, but it isn’t absent.”

“You know he probably holds your hope for his redemption over your head, right?”

“Oh, he definitely does. This is not news to me.”

Matt couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “At least you’re aware.”

“If I am anything, Matthew, it is aware. But thank you for caring to try and explain it to me.”

“No problem.” Matt took another swig of his beer. “I should probably get going.”

“Mmm. A decent night’s rest is important. Do keep me appraised of the Elena situation, if possible.”

“There isn’t a situation, but okay. I will.”

“Sleep well, Matthew.”

“You, too.”

God, he’d really fucked it up this time.

When Connor Jordan cornered him about his bites, he’d said the first name that came to mind that wasn’t one of his friends: Rebekah Mikaelson.

It was wrong, he knew, but if someone had to die, he couldn’t let it be Elena. She’d done too much for him.

Besides, Rebekah couldn’t die, right?

Turns out that Jordan had tricks up his sleeve, because a quick dose of werewolf venom in the kegs at Rebekah’s party was all it took to poison both Rebekah and Elena.

So Elena had spent the afternoon dying, until Klaus finally showed up. And she was bound to be hungry in the aftermath.

Matt jogged to her place, letting himself in and finding her in the kitchen.

After listening to him fumble over his apology, Elena shook her head at him. “I already had this conversation with Jeremy, and you can’t have known. I didn’t even know I was going.”

Matt rolled up his sleeve, ready to offer her his arm as she continued.

“Stefan told me about this, about how I’d feel, but I didn’t expect this. I wanted to kill her right there in front of everyone at the party. I just … I don’t even feel like myself anymore.”

Matt felt bad about Rebekah being targeted, but he wasn’t about to let Elena feel that same way. Rebekah had killed her. “She deserves it, Elena.”

“Maybe she does, but she’s not the only problem. My head is all screwed to hell.”

Matt started unwinding the bandage, revealing the wound from the last feeding.

“I’m just so …” Elena ran her hands through her hair as veins popped out around her eyes, her fangs dropping into place. “I’m so hungry.”

And she lunged.

Matt was walking along the side of the road. He didn’t remember getting there, or wanting to get there, but there he was. It was vaguely in the direction of his house, but he was so dizzy he didn’t think he’d make it.

Maybe he should just sit down for a second. Yeah, that seemed like a good idea.

Dropping down onto the grass, Matt put his head between his bent knees and tried to breathe while the world spun around him. This wasn’t normal. This didn’t happen after Elena drank from him, not usually.

She had drunk from him, hadn’t she? He couldn’t remember that well.

Deep breaths stopped working once he started puking, left weak from each convulsion. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t okay.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Matt almost called 911. But he couldn’t. People in this town knew about vampires, and they knew what bites looked like.

Fingers numb from the cold, Matt stabbed at the first number on his speed dial.

“Matthew? Come to seek more counsel?”

“‘Lijah …” He winced, falling sideways onto the grass. “S’mthing … I think s’mthing’s wrong with me.”

“Where are you?”

“I don’t …” Matt shuddered, cold washing over him like he was back in the water all over again. “I don’t know.”

“Look around you, Matthew. Do you see anything? Any buildings? Signs?”

Matt squinted up at a street light, tearing his eyes away from the mesmerising warmth of it to look around—

A street sign.

“H-Hartnell.”

“A street?”

Matt made a sound to confirm. His arm was bleeding again, right through the fabric of his shirt and jacket.

“I’ve found it on the map. I’ll be there shortly, Matthew. Can you keep talking?” The sound of a car door opening and closing rang down the line, then the rumbling growl of the car starting. “Tell me the last thing you remember.”

“E-Elena.”

“Is she with you?” A shrill beeping sounded from Elijah’s end.

“Seatbelt.”

“What?”

“The beeping.” Matt tried to swallow, finding his mouth dry. “You’re not wearing your seatbelt. Reckless.”

Elijah’s chuckle was a little hysterical as something clicked and the beeping stopped. “Thank you for your concern. Can you tell me more about what you remember?”

Vision blurry, Matt groaned.

“Matthew?” Panic sharped Elijah’s tone. “Matthew!”

And everything went black.

Elijah pulled the car to a halt as soon as he came up on Hartnell Lane, tires squealing. In his haste to get out, he shredded the seat belt Matthew had insisted he wear.

Once in the open, Elijah scented the air. Fresh blood was never hard to find, and he followed the trail until he saw the heap along the side of the road. The body, heart barely beating.

He was on his knees beside Matthew in a flash, turning him over. He was unconscious and his arm was a bloody mess, leaking through his sleeve. “Oh, Matthew,” Elijah sighed. “What have they done to you?”

Tearing open his own wrist, Elijah pressed it to Matthew’s lips. He used his free hand to bring Matthew’s injured wrist up to his teeth, shredding the fabric of his jacket and shirt as well as the bandages to get a better look at the injury.

A bite mark, deep and messy. Like from a newborn. And as far as Elijah knew, there was only one newborn vampire in town.

The wound closed over, leaving a bloody mess in its wake. Elijah waited a moment and pulled his hand away from Matthew, the gashes on his own wrist healing as he did. Matthew had barely stirred enough to drink, still unconscious from the blood loss. Elijah took a moment to listen closely for anything else, any broken bones grinding together or the wet ebb and flow of blood in the lungs being tousled with each breath, but Matthew seemed all healed up.

Choking back his relief, Elijah said, “Let’s get you home.”

Had he been in full possession of himself, Elijah might have thought to put a blanket down on the backseat before laying Matthew across it. Not that it mattered. His assistant always knew how to get blood out of even the most difficult materials, and the buttery leather and spongy floor mats in this vehicle would be no exception.

The drive to Matthew’s home was a short one—he must have been walking there when he was attacked, Elijah reasoned. Elena’s newborn hunger was liable to be uncontrollable, and casualties were unavoidable, but Elijah had never imagined that her friends would pay the price for her new lifestyle. That she had hunted Matthew down like that, leaving him there to die …  

But he’d had bandages on his arm. So it must have been planned, or she took care of him afterward. How had she not known he’d lost too much blood? It was foolish for her not to have been taught, the Salvatores were practically asking her to kill an innocent at this rate—

Elijah pushed the thoughts aside as he pulled up into the drive, coming to a halt. It was a good thing Matthew had invited him inside; this way, at least, he could take him in out of the cold.

“Matthew.” Elijah tried to stir him gently, but he remained asleep.  After whatever trauma he’d suffered, it was likely best to permit him this reprieve.

Finding the keys in Matthew’s pocket, Elijah unlocked the house and turned on all the lights, setting the air conditioner to heat before coming back out to fetch Matthew. He carried him carefully, making certain not to knock him against any doorframes as he brought him to the sofa and set him down on the pillows there. He eased the grass-stained, vomit-splashed jacket off his shoulders and fetched a cloth from the cupboard in the hall to wipe the blood up with. He wasn’t about to change Matthew’s shirt and trousers without his permission, but at least he could take care of the bulk of the bloody mess he’d been left with.

Left with nothing else to do, Elijah surveyed the house. His modus operandi so far had been to leave a note behind and make his exit while Matthew slept, but he didn’t feel right doing that. Not until he knew what had happened.

Besides, Elena had been invited into this house, surely. She could get in whenever she wanted, and if she wanted to finish the job … well, that couldn’t happen. Elijah thought better of her than that, but he’d never thought she’d go after Matthew like this, either.

No, better that he stayed. He was needed.

Settling in on the other end of the sofa, Elijah pulled his phone from his pocket and opened up one of the infernal, addictive games Rebekah had installed. It was going to be a long night.

Matt woke to the cracking of bacon cooking with the heat turned high. Groaning, he sat up and stretched, back popping. His sleeve was stained with dried blood, but he was otherwise fine.

He knew who was cooking even before they returned to the living room, spatula in hand. “You’re awake,” said Elijah. “I had hoped the smell of bacon would rouse you. Do you think you can walk to the kitchen, or would you prefer to eat here?”

Matt rubbed the sleep from his eyes, trying to get Elijah in better focus. He was wearing an apron that Matt was sure hadn’t been in this house before today, waiting patiently for Matt to get his shit together and answer.

“Uh, I can walk.” Matt stood, surprised by how steady he felt. “I’m surprised you’re still here.”

“You were in no condition to be left unsupervised.”

Matt wandered into the kitchen, surprised at what he found. More food than he’d had in the house yesterday, more than he’d ever had in the house, period. Pancakes and bacon and eggs were all laid out across the breakfast bar, the clutter of unpaid bills and old newspapers having been cleared to make room for them. There was also a glass jug he’d never seen before full of pulpy orange juice, and if the sagging halves of oranges on the bench were any indication the juice had been freshly squeezed.

“You didn’t have to do all this.”

“And yet I did. Please, sit.”

Matt crossed his arms over his chest, the blood-encrusted sleeve cracking against his chest. “You shouldn’t be hosting me here. It’s my house.”

“The deed is in your mother’s name, though I agree that it is yours in effect. And I am hosting you because you almost died, and you deserve some time to recover.”

Matt raised his sleeve to indicate the smooth, unblemished flesh. “I did recover. I’m guessing your blood had something to do with that?”

“You were almost dead when I arrived. The amount of blood you lost—”

“And you couldn’t have helped me without giving me your blood? You just had to heal me?”

Elijah’s jaw flexed. “Had I not provided you with my blood, you would be dead. You were cold to the touch and losing consciousness. Elena took more than she should have and left you to die, so yes, I did have to. Now come and eat something. You should keep your strength up.”

The bacon smelled heavenly enough to convince Matt to drop the subject for now and take the plate offered to him. He served himself bacon and pancakes and drizzled both with maple syrup, then settled into his chair while Elijah siphoned some eggs onto his own plate, sprinkling them with sprigs of some herb Matt couldn’t identify.

“So,” said Elijah, pouring Matt a glass of juice and sliding it over to him. The aspirin bottle was already at the table, ready for him. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I woke up in a really weird dream.” Matt took a bite of his bacon, almost groaning at the taste of it. “You?”

“My wellbeing is not currently a matter of concern. What happened last night?”

“I—” Matt stopped funnelling food into his mouth and took a moment to swallow. “I don’t really remember. I went to Elena’s because she was hungry after being poisoned yesterday, and I think she fed on me and sent me home.”

“The marks on your arm suggested that she lost control, bit too deep. She never should have taken that much to start with.”

“I’m sure she knows. I’ll tell her when I see her next.”

“And since you were clearly there for the purpose of feeding her, I’m assuming you had no vervain on your person?”

“I … no, I didn’t. But she wouldn’t hurt me on purpose. I’m sure that taking too much was just an accident, you know, after the day she’d had.”

“I was also referring to the absence of vervain leaving you vulnerable to compulsion.”

“Elena would never compel me.”

“Elena isn’t the only vampire in this town.”

“Well, I don’t think I was compelled. I mean, I don’t feel compelled.” At Elijah’s disapproving look Matt continued, “Okay, okay. I know I wouldn’t be able to tell, but … I’m sure last night was an accident. She probably doesn’t even know that she took too much.”

“If she hasn’t learned by now, that’s the Salvatores’ fault. Mentoring a newborn is about teaching them control, everything they need to know to avoid taking lives. If Elena Gilbert can only drink from the vein, they were fools not to teach her how to do so properly.”

“She’ll learn. It’ll be fine.”

Elijah hummed, pushing his eggs around with his fork but barely eating.

“I’m sorry,” said Matt. “Last night wasn’t something you should’ve had to handle. I’m sorry I called you instead of someone else.”

“Don’t be. A human wouldn’t have saved you and the vampires in this town would’ve made it worse. Miss Forbes may be able to handle it, but even Stefan has his darker side. It’s not a risk you should ever take, understand?”

“And you don’t have a darker side?”

“I have control. Stefan does not.”

“So you never go overboard? Never take too much, never mess up?”

“Not anymore,” Elijah said in a tone that suggested that particular conversation was over. “Do you have work today?”

“Later this afternoon, yeah.”

“And I don’t suppose you’d consider calling in sick?”

“Why? I’m fine. Too fine, actually. If someone notices that the bite marks are gone—” Matt set down his cutlery. He was only halfway through his meal, but he was already losing his appetite. “You might have to bite me.”

Elijah froze. “I beg your pardon?”

“I can’t go back to Elena without any bitemarks, not when it’s so easy for her to confirm that the Salvatores and Caroline weren’t the ones that healed me.”

“You mean you intend to return to Elena for feeding? After what she’s done?”

“Better me than a stranger. I can tell her that she took too much this time, that I’m feeling a little sick and need a day off, just while your blood works its way out of my system. Then you bite me, and I go back. It’ll be fine, and she’ll know that she went too far and she should be more careful next time.”

“Absolutely not.” Elijah downed the rest of his orange juice. “I won’t be a part of this.”

“You don’t have to feed,” Matt argued. “Just bite. I thought you said you were in control.”

“I am in control. This is me, being in control, and telling you no, Matthew, I won’t do it. If you wish to dangle yourself before Elena like fresh meat then by all means, do so. But I will not help you do it.”

“Please, Elijah.” Apparently Matt wasn’t above begging. “If she sees, she’ll know that we’re talking. They’ll all think I betrayed them. My friends—they’re all I have, Elijah—”

“You have almost died for them again and again, Matthew. No more.”

Matt slammed his hands on the table. “Dammit, Elijah, please—”

“No, Matthew,” said Elijah. “I can’t help you with this. It’s not right.” Elijah stood stiffly, picking up his plate and glass. “I’ll clean up and put the leftovers in your refrigerator. You should go and clean yourself up if you’re expecting to work later.”

“I can help.”

“I’d prefer to do it alone, thank you.” Elijah returned to the table, taking Matt’s dishes.

Left with no other option (and preferring not to stay and suffer Elijah’s chilly silence), Matt got up from the table and left to grab a shower. He figured Elijah wouldn’t still be there when he got out.

He was right.

Matt hitched a ride to work with Jeremy, grateful that he made no comment on the bandages on Matt’s neck and arm. There were no wounds beneath them, obviously, but he kept them covered to maintain the illusion. A vampire might be able to tell there wasn’t any old blood under them, but other than that he looked exactly like he should after being Elena’s blood bag for a week.

“Still failing out of History?” Matt asked, hoping to start a conversation.

Jeremy nodded. “Apparently the new teacher isn’t as much of a pushover as Ric was.”

“I’m sorry.” They all missed Ric. It had barely been two weeks, and his absence was profound enough to have sabotaged Jeremy’s high school career already. Their new teacher certainly couldn’t compare.

“Yeah, well, it’s how it goes, right?” Jeremy said, tone light but grip hard on the steering wheel as he pulled up at the Grill. “I can come by and pick you up later. Just text me when.”

“Thanks, man.” Matt patted Jer on the shoulder before bailing, making a note to have a longer conversation about it on the way back.

As it turned out, he’d be driving himself home in the brand new truck Rebekah had bought him.

Elijah spent the day at the motel, reading classic novels on his phone and waiting for his car to be cleaned. The blood wouldn’t come out easy, he’d wager, and the his seatbelt needed replacing after he’d torn it off in his haste the night before.

The argument with Matthew had been foolish. On whose part, Elijah didn’t know, but he suspected that it was the both of them. Matthew was so determined to hide their strange friendship from the others that he was willing to go to such ridiculous lengths, and Elijah could have been kinder in how he responded to that.

Matthew would rather die than disappoint his friends. He felt he owed Elena a debt and was determined to pay it, no matter the personal cost. Not three days ago, Elijah would have done the same for Niklaus.

Elijah sat up in his chair, realising he’d been scrolling through his book without taking in a word. He switched off his phone, dropping it onto the table beside him.

To Matthew, the opinions of his friends was everything. Perhaps it was rooted in their childhoods, seeing them all with functional families and middle-class lives while he was left with nothing but an alcoholic mother and an absentee father to fund him, and neither had done well. Matthew wanted his friends to think highly of him, and it shouldn’t have been a difficult goal to achieve—he was a good man, a loyal friend, and a decent person. Thinking highly of Matthew was no tall task.

But then why did he try so hard to maintain his status among them? Why was Elijah such a threat to that?

Ultimately, it was a question of loyalty. Elijah knew all about that.

Matt pulled up into the driveway, truck purring smoothly all the while. No sputtering, no weird smell from the air conditioner, nothing. It was the first car Matt had ever driven that smelled new.

He really didn’t want to thank Rebekah, but in that moment he was tempted to.

It wasn’t exactly a surprise to see Elijah on the front porch. His car wasn’t there, so he must’ve walked. “How does it run?” Elijah asked as Matt approached.

“Great. I’m guessing it was your idea, then.”

“Rebekah’s regret is sincere, and it was her idea to purchase a vehicle for you. My input was in the model that best suited you.”

“Well, thanks for that.” Matt moved past Elijah and unlocked the front door, walking right in but leaving it open as an invitation.

“You’re very welcome, and I’m glad you accepted it.”

“Might as well, right? Close the door behind you.”

Elijah did, shrugging off his suit jacket and hanging it over the sofa as they walked into the living room.

“Want a drink? I have water, orange juice, and beer you’ll probably hate.”

“I’m fine, and I also don’t want to know how you manage to get your hands on alcohol.”

“Playing the responsible adult now?” Matt asked, smiling crookedly.

“You’re an adult as well, and no. Drink whatever you please, and let me know if you want something on the more expensive side.”

“Funding underage drinking. Nice.” Matt settled back into the sofa, wriggling until he was comfortable. “Is there anything in particular you wanted to talk about?”

Elijah looked pained, but it passed quickly. “My blood should be out of your system in a few hours.”

“And?”

“And, if you still need me to bite you, I will.”

Well, Matt certainly hadn’t been expecting that. “I—thanks, but Elena doesn’t want to drink from me anymore. She went to Duke so Damon could teach her how to feed properly without losing control.”

Elijah raised an eyebrow. “How interesting that he felt the need to teach her this now rather than earlier.”

“You think that means that he knows she lost control last night.”

“It’s certainly a coincidence.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not sure I want to ask them.”

“I could always compel the truth from them. I doubt either of them are on vervain, not when it would weaken them.”

“Please don’t,” said Matt.

Elijah glanced down at his hands, then back up at Matt. “There is another way to know for sure.”

“What?”

“There are spells capable of undoing compulsion. They’re long and painful, but they work. I know a witch who would do it for you.”

“What would that involve?”

“Travel, most likely. You’d need to take time off from your friends’ drama for long enough to go there, complete the spell, and return. A few days at least, a week at most.”

“I can’t do that. They’ll all know.”

“I may be able to pay the witch to commute, but he’s rather picky.”

“You don’t have to pay. I might be able to find the money somewhere.”

“Believe me, Matthew, not enough. Let me see to it.”

Matt shifted. “I don’t like the idea of you spending money on me all the time. It doesn’t make sense to me. With Rebekah and the truck, I get it, but with you—”

“We’re friends,” said Elijah, feigning a casual tone. “Friends do things for one another. You listen to my family woes, I find a way to free you from any mind control left in your head by your so-called friends.”

Matt sighed. “I don’t have time to disappear right now, not even for a day or so if they were to come here.”

“I understand that,” said Elijah, obviously choosing his words carefully. “But you are allowed to choose yourself over others. You can tell them you’re taking some time, and just leave. It’s within your power to do so.”

Well, it doesn’t feel like it. “Thanks, but not right now.”

“The offer will remain open to you, of course.”

“Yeah, I figured. Thank you for offering.”

“It’s no hassle. I’m at rather a loose end myself.”

“Right.” Matt nodded, biting back a chuckle. “How is your Klaus-free life?”

“I’d say dull, but the blood being scrubbed from my car would likely animate just to call me a liar. But it is … different.”

“Sorry about the blood. And different how?”

“Different in the sense that my concerns have not ceased, but my inclination to assuage my fears regarding my brother is no longer present. I have no doubt it will return eventually, but for now I exist anxiously but without direction.”

“There are brochures about how to deal with unemployment at the mall,” said Matt. “I can get one for you if you want.”

Elijah laughed. “Thank you, but I think I’ll be fine. If there are any that could tell me how to deal with motel food, however, I’d appreciate that.”

“No good, huh? There’s a decent Italian place I can order from if you want something that wasn’t brewed in a vat.”

Elijah grinned. “Sounds heavenly.”

Matt got home just after dusk the next day, so exhausted he could feel it in his bones.

Taken hostage by a homicidal vampire hunter? Check.

Threatened with super vampire-killing bombs? Check.

Life saved by a wine cellar and creepy tunnels under the town? Check.

Honestly, he just wanted to sleep. But he’d also almost died, and he was used to talking about that with Elijah. It was probably a weird habit to get into, but it was one he had.

Maybe he should call him, Matt thought as he got out the truck. Maybe Elijah would want to know about what had happened with Connor Jordan.

No, he wouldn’t call. It would just worry Elijah even more, and for what? Life was shitty; everyone knew that.

He might as well just deal with it.

“‘Why thank you, Matt,’” Matt muttered to himself as he watched Damon march out of the Grill. “‘You’ve supplied us with invaluable information, Matt.’ Well sure, Damon. It’s what I’m here for.”

Matt picked up the glass of bourbon left behind, sniffing it and wincing.

“Yes, it’s certainly not the good stuff,” said Elijah, emerging from the corner.

Setting the glass down, Matt pivoted to face Elijah. The bar was empty and he was supposed to be locking up, so no one would interrupt them at least. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard there was an incident here yesterday.” Elijah slung his coat over the stool next to Matt’s and joined him at the bar. “Something about a gas leak and an explosion. It sounded like a rather neat cover-up for a supernatural disaster, so I set out to ensure you were all right.”

“I’m fine. The hunter in town decided to take a stand, but we dealt with it.” Tapping the bar, Matt asked casually, “I assume you’ve heard of The Five?”

Elijah sat up straight, face impassive. “The vampire hunters? Yes, I have.”

“I figured. Klaus seems to be acquainted with them. Connor was one of them, and Elena killed him.”

“When was this? Is she—”

“We fixed the curse. Had to awaken a new hunter to do it.” At Elijah’s questioning look, he said, “Jeremy.”

Elijah tensed his jaw, hands fisting and unfisting. “That won’t end well, Matthew. Hunters are driven to hunt their prey. You must watch him with care so he doesn’t endanger others. Or himself.”

“I will. Do you know what to look out for?”

“No. I only know that even men and women of reason are driven to the hunt. I don’t know what form of torture they receive if they fight their urges, but it’s substantial enough that I’ve never seen one resist the desire to kill. Perhaps with a supply of other vampires to kill, Jeremy could slake his thirst for violence, but … it’s untested, and I have no definitive answers. I am sorry.”

“No, don’t apologise. That’s more than we had before you came in here. Thank you.”

“It’s no problem.” Elijah ran a finger around the rim of the glass between them. “It is technically my family’s fault the hunters exist to begin with.”

“True. I guess we’re all responsible for things we don’t want to be. All we can do is try our best to deal with it.”

“A truer word has never been spoken.”

They lapsed into silence, neither willing to continue the maudlin conversation.

“I should lock up,” said Matt, sliding off the stool to stand. “It’s past closing time.”

“Of course. Would you like any help?”

“No, it’s fine. I have a method.” He headed  behind the bar, mostly to avoid the question of how to say goodbye. Not a hug. A wave would be weird. Was shaking hands something people did? “Thanks for stopping by.”

“Of course,” Elijah replied smoothly, slipping his coat on. “Call me if you need any help with Jeremy.”

“I will,” Matt promised. “See you.”

Elijah nodded in lieu of returning the farewell, ducking out the back door by the kitchen. He was keeping a low profile in town, though Matt did wonder why he bothered coming out in public at all. Or why he was even still in Mystic Falls, for that matter.