❧ kristen stewart ❧

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Amalie tossed and turned in her bed, the velvet sheets tangling around her restless body as her mind refused to settle. Every time she closed her eyes, Katherine's wicked smile, and now Elijah's mysterious presence invaded her thoughts, swirling together like a storm she couldn't escape. The silence of the house felt oppressive, pressing down on her chest as if it too carried the weight of her fears and desires. She should have been exhausted—the past few days have been an emotional rollercoaster—but her body refused to give in. Instead, she lay there, staring at the ceiling, the ticking of the clock on the wall echoing in the stillness, each minute dragging by as though mocking her inability to find peace.

Around 4 am, frustration clawed at her insides, and she finally threw off the covers, the cool air of the room chilling her skin. She padded silently down the stairs, the marble floors cold beneath her bare feet, heading to the basement. stone walls of the cellar greeted her with a familiar chill as she opened the freezer and pulled out a blood bag. For a brief moment, as the cold liquid hit her tongue, she thought she might find some relief, some grounding amidst her thoughts. But even the taste of blood, couldn't quiet the storm in her mind. Leaning against the wall, she closed her eyes, trying to shake the feeling that something was pulling her toward a destiny she didn't understand.

She knew she should be afraid. Elijah's sudden appearance, the gifts, the note—it should have scared her. A normal person would have been on edge at the thought of someone watching them, someone weaving their way into their life without explanation. But Amalie wasn't scared. That was the most unsettling part of all. Instead of fear, there was an undeniable pull, a connection she couldn't shake. It was as if the universe itself was whispering to her, telling her to follow Elijah, to trust him, though her mind screamed at her that she shouldn't. The thought of him tugged at her, a thread tying her to something ancient and inevitable, something far beyond her control.

As the blood bag emptied, she tossed it into the trash, wiping her mouth. The house around her was silent, the ghosts of her thoughts louder than anything else. She wouldn't sleep tonight. She knew that. And, despite everything, there was a part of her that wanted to give into the pull, to see where it would lead her. What was it about Elijah that made her feel like she was on the edge of something monumental, something dangerous, but something she couldn't resist?

By morning, the house stirred to life, but Amalie still felt the remnants of the sleepless night clinging to her. Her fingers trailed lightly along the polished banister as she descended the grand staircase, her movements graceful despite the fatigue she felt deep in her bones. When she reached the bottom, voices drifted from the parlor—Elena and Rose, their conversation soft but filled with a kind of quiet intensity. She paused just outside the room, listening for a moment before stepping in.

"What's going on?" Amalie asked, her tone light, masking the curiosity that had been nagging at her since the moment, she overheard their voices. Her eyes locked onto Elena, whose expression was unreadable but determined.

"We're going to Richmond," Elena said, her voice steady, though there was a note of urgency beneath her calm demeanor. "I want you to come with us."

Amalie raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement crossing her face. "Richmond?" She echoed, folding her arms loosely across her chest. "No thanks, I was thinking of having a quiet day. You know, catching up with Jenna, getting a bite to eat."

Elena's gaze hardened, but she didn't waver. "Please, Amalie. You owe me."

Amalie's smile faltered, her expression shifting from amused to cold in an instant. "I owe you?" She repeated, her voice dangerously soft as she studied the girl before her, tilting her head slightly. The room's tension thickened, the air heavy with unspoken resentment. "I don't owe you anything."

Elena's jaw tightened, but she held her ground, her eyes narrowing slightly. "After what you did to Jenna before the masquerade," she said sharply, her voice cutting through the room like a knife, "I'd say you do."

A flicker of something—perhaps guilt, perhaps irritation—passed through Amalie's features, but she quickly masked it, her expression hardening into something more distant. She stared at Elena for a long moment. "You really think I owe you because of Jenna?" " Amalie's voice was low, calm, but it carried a warning, her eyes locking onto Elena's with unnerving intensity. "Just so you know, I'm not going because I owe you. I'm going because I think it'll be a fun field trip."

With that, she turned on her heel, her heart racing beneath the surface of her outward composure. She didn't look back, didn't give Elena or Rose the satisfaction of a reaction.

###

Slater was dead. They had gotten to their apartment and found his body, a stake to the heart. Rose didn't seem all that sad about Slater, but she chalked it up to him knowing what he got himself into. He knew way too much information than any vampire should, and someone had probably killed him for that information.

Now, Alice, Slater's girlfriend, was searching through the hard drive on his computer, hoping to find anything that had to do with Klaus. Rose, Amalie, and Elena stood behind her, watching as she worked.

"Someone's been here," Alice muttered, her voice breaking the silence. Her eyes darted across the screen, her brow furrowed in concentration. "The hard drive's completely wiped out."

"Yeah," Rose scoffed, crossing her arms. "Probably whoever killed him."

"Lucky for you, Slater was paranoid," Alice announced, a hint of satisfaction in her voice. "Everything's backed up on a remote server."

Rose turned to Elena, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You know she's not going anywhere near my blood, right?"

Elena nodded, her face grim. "I know. She doesn't."

Amalie's gaze flickered between them, her suspicions sharpening. She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "What's that supposed to mean?" She asked, her tone edged with distrust. The two exchanged a look, tense and unspoken, but said nothing. Amalie's eyes narrowed, irritation flickering in her stare. "Funny how you're both so concerned about that, considering what we're really here for," she snapped.

Ignoring her, Elena leaned in beside Alice as she continued clicking through files, each name that flashed on the screen a potential connection to Klaus. "Kristen Stewart?" Alice muttered, a scoff in her voice. "God, was he obvious."

Amalie frowned as she scanned the list. "These are all leads to vampires?" She asked, not recognizing any of the names—though she was sure most of them were fake.

Alice nodded, not taking her eyes off the screen. "Slater was obsessed. Almost as much as I am."

Rose's eyes narrowed, suddenly catching sight of something. "What about that one?" She said, pointing at the screen. "Cody Webber. They exchanged dozens of emails about Elijah."

Alice clicked on the file and scanned it quickly. "I could call him," she suggested.

Before Rose or Amalie could respond, Elena stepped forward and handed Alice the phone that had been sitting on the desk. "Tell him we're trying to send a message to Klaus," she said, her tone steely. "The doppelganger is alive , and she's ready to surrender."

Amalie felt the world shift, her pulse freezing as the words sank in. "What?" Rose breathed, her disbelief palpable. She exchanged a look with Amalie, both of them mirroring the same horror and shock.

Amalie's voice was sharp, an edge of fury in her tone. "What the hell are you doing, Elena?" She demanded. "Have you lost your mind?"

Elena's face tightened, a flicker of doubt passing over her features, but she steeled herself, her eyes cold with resolve. "I'm getting Klaus' attention," she replied, her voice calm, as though it were the only choice left.

Rose shook her head in frustration, taking a step closer to Elena. "If Klaus finds out you're alive, he'll come after you, Elena. He'll kill you."

Elena straightened, her back rigid as she faced them. Her silence spoke volumes, the weight of her decision settling heavily in the room. Rose's eyes widened as the truth dawned on her, and Amalie felt the same sickening realization wash over her.

"Which is what you wanted all along?" Rose asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Elena's eyes softened for just a moment, her composure slipping. "It's either me or my family," she said quietly, the vulnerability in her voice barely concealed.

Amalie stepped forward, her heart pounding in her chest. "That isn't a plan," she said, her voice trembling with anger and disbelief. "That's suicide, Elena. You think sacrificing yourself is going to save anyone? Klaus will kill you, and then he'll kill everyone else. This is a death sentence."

Elena's eyes hardened as she met Amalie's gaze. "You don't get it, Amalie," she said, her voice cold. "There's no other way. He's going to come for me eventually—better to do it on my terms."

Amalie felt a flare of frustration, her anger bubbling over. "So that's it? You're just going to hand yourself over like some martyr? And we're supposed to stand and watch?" Her voice rose, a biting edge to her words. "That's not bravery, Elena. That's playing right into his hands."

Rose stepped beside her, her face grim. "Amalie's right. Klaus doesn't play fair. You're risking everything. And for what? To make it easier for him to kill you?"

Elena clenched her fists, her resolve unwavering. "It's either me, or everyone I care about. I won't let him hurt my family."

Amalie's voice softened, the anger draining into something far more dangerous. "What about us, Elena?" She asked, her gaze fierce and unwavering. "Do you think me and Rose are just collateral damage? That we're not going to get caught in the crossfire?" She stepped forward, her eyes locking onto Elena's. "You're not the only one with something to lose here."

Elena's expression flickered, her determination wavering for a brief second as the weight of Amalie's words hung heavy in the air. For a moment, Amalie thought she might reconsider.

But before anything more could be said, Alice's voice cut through the tension. "Cody is on his way," she announced. "And he really wants to meet you."

Amalie's stomach dropped. The knot of fear that had been coiling in her chest tightened even further. Klaus.

She turned to Elena one last time, her voice low and filled with warning. "You'd better hope you know what you're doing," Amalie said, her eyes narrowing. "Because if you don't, we're all dead."

###

The room felt heavy with anticipation, the kind of silence that crawled under your skin. Amalie sat on the faded, worn-out couch in Slater's apartment, the springs pressing into her legs as if to remind her of the uncomfortable truth—that no matter where she sat or how much time she spent here, everything was just a flimsy cover against the flick danger. Across the room, Elena stood by the window, her gaze fixed on the city lighting through the hazy glass, as though searching for an answer, or maybe just bracing herself for what she'd set in motion. Rose and Alice were tucked away in a separate room, sifting through what scraps of information Slater had left behind, leaving only Amalie and Elena in the silence.

Amalie toyed with a loose thread on her sweater sleeve, twisting it between her fingers as her thoughts twisted in similar knots. The past 72 hours had been a whirlwind. And yet, a strange part of her felt detached, like she was watching this from a distance, waiting for a clarity that hadn't yet come.

Elena's sudden movement broke the silence, her whole body jolting as she spun away from the window, her face slightly flushed as though she'd seen something in the reflection. Amalie raised an eyebrow, her posture relaxed, barely shifting from her comfortable position on the couch. "What's wrong with you?" She asked, her voice dry but edged with curiosity.

Elena blinked, recovering herself with a small shake of her head. "Sorry," she murmured, though her voice held a tension that wasn't entirely brushed off. After a brief hesitation, she looked at Amalie, her gaze softer. "Thank you for being here, Amalie." Her voice was quiet but earnest.

Amalie waved it off, trying to keep her tone casual, even as a faint discomfort stirred in her chest. "Yeah, whatever," she replied, unwilling to meet Elena's sincerity head-on. But Elena wasn't finished. She turned, her gaze more focused.

"Really," she pressed, "Thank you. I would've thought you, of all people, wouldn't allow me to do this. Considering Klaus wants you as well." Her tone was softer as though trying to peel back a layer of Amalie she didn't fully understand.

Amalie met her gaze, a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips, though she ignored the last part of what Elena said. "If it's you or twenty other people...well, goodbye," she said with a nonchalant shrug, her words cutting through the tension with dark humor.

A brief, almost startled escaped laugh Elena, and she shook her head, a smile playing on her lips despite herself. But the laughter quickly faded, and the curiosity lingered in her eyes. "But you did say you wanted to be friends," Elena pointed out, her voice softer now, searching for honesty. "Why would you let me do this?"

Amalie's eyes drifted toward the floor, and for a moment, she seemed to weigh her words before meeting Elena's gaze again. "I don't get attached to people quickly, Elena," she admitted, the words were almost reluctantly spoken. "I just wanted to be your friend to... potentially ruin Stefan's life. I don't really care about that anymore." There was a hint of sadness in her tone, as though even she was surprised by how quickly her priorities had shifted.

Elena's brow furrowed slightly, processing Amalie's words. "You just gave up that quickly?" She asked, not with judgment, but with genuine curiosity.

Amalie chuckled, a dark, almost resigned sound. "Well, I suppose if Klaus is coming here, you know, wanting to sacrifice you and all, Stefan's already got a big problem on his shoulders," she said, her voice light, but with the weight of her words heavy. There was no point in pretending otherwise.

Elena fell silent for a moment, absorbing Amalie's response. Her eyes softened slightly, and though she didn't say it, there was an understanding that passed between them—a mutual recognition of how deeply they were both tied to the chaos that was about to unfold.

Amalie leaned back against the couch, glancing toward the window where the lights of the city flickered distantly. "So, what's your plan, really?" She asked, her voice dropping into something more serious. "Do you think this whole martyr act is really going to save anyone?"

Elena's fingers tightened around the edge of the windowsill, her gaze drifting out into the day, as though seeking courage in the empty streets below. "It's not a martyr act," she said softly. "I'm just trying to protect the people I love."

Amalie watched her, a pang of something—maybe sympathy, maybe resentment—rising in her chest. "You're not going to be able to protect everyone," she said softly. "My guess is, Klaus doesn't care about your noble intentions. He's coming for what he wants, and he'll destroy anyone who gets in his way."

Elena's shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of Amalie's words sinking in. "I know," she whispered, her voice tinged with both resolve and fear.

For a long moment, they remained silent, two sides of the same broken coin, each understanding the other in ways they couldn't put into words. Finally, Amalie stood, her gaze lingering on Elena for a beat longer than necessary.

"Just don't expect me to go down with you," Amalie said, her voice laced with dark humor once again. "I'm not the martyr type."

Elena turned, offering Amalie a sad, understanding smile. "I wouldn't expect you to be."

Amalie nodded, then with a final glance out the window, she left the room, leaving Elena to face her own decisions—and the impending storm—alone.

###

The stillness in the apartment had turned fragile, a silence so tense it felt like a thin sheet of glass ready to shatter. Elena walked into the main room, sipping from a glass of water, her movements stiff with the weight of everything that lay ahead. Her eyes flicked over to Alice, standing awkwardly by the door, before turning to face the window once more. But then she gasped, startled as Damon appeared.

"What are you doing here?" Damon asked, his voice sharp but casual, as if he already knew the answer.

Elena whirled around, her voice steady but defensive. "What are you doing here?"

Before she could say more, Rose and Amalie stepped into the room, their expressions unreadable. Elena's gaze hardened as it settled on Rose. "You called him?" Elena's voice was accusatory, her words laced with betrayal.

Guilt flashed in Rose's eyes. "I'm sorry, Elena."

Elena shook her head, her voice rising with frustration. "You said that you understood."

Damon interjected before Rose could reply, his voice filled with that same sarcastic edge. "She lied." He turned then, his attention shifting to Amalie, his gaze narrowing. "And why didn't you call me?"

Amalie crossed her arms with a casual shrug, her expression. "I don't have your number," she replied, her voice nonchalant.

Damon rolled his eyes, but before he could retort, Alice edged closer, her wide-eyed gaze fixed on him in a mix of awe and disbelief. "Damon Salvatore!" Alice exclaimed, practically starstruck.

Damon barely glanced at her before turning to Rose, his voice dripping with annoyance. "Get rid of her."

Alice's eyes widened. "No...way!"

Rose sighed, grabbing Alice's arm gently but firmly. "Come on," she muttered, leading the protesting girl out of the room. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving Elena, Amalie, and Damon standing in silence.

Damon turned back to Elena, his face hardening with determination. "Come on. We're leaving."

Elena didn't flinch. "No."

Damon's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer to her. "I said we're leaving."

Elena squared her shoulders, her defiance clear in every inch of her posture. "I'm not going with you."

Damon's temper flared, his patience thinning as he met her gaze, unyielding. "You do not get to make decisions anymore."

The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for Elena's response. Amalie could see the fire in Elena's eyes, the quiet determination that had been building for days now finally coming to the surface.

"When have I ever made a decision?" Elena's voice cracked slightly, but her resolve didn't falter. "You and Stefan do that for me. Now this—this is my decision."

Damon's eyes blazed with frustration, but beneath it, there was something else—fear. He couldn't control this. He couldn't control her. "Who's going to save your life while you're out making decisions?"

Elena's face softened, the pain beneath her anger slipping through the cracks. "You're not listening to me, Damon. I don't want to be saved. Not if it means that Klaus is going to kill every single person that I love ."

The truth of her words hit the room like a