Nothing has ever been as horrible as it was to be thrown into that cell with Ethan, counting down the minutes to the full moon. Nothing. The screams and the howls and the shackles digging into the bones of his arms, everything is still fresh in her mind when she reaches the room.
The way he sounded when he said he was sorry.
The pain he was in every time he tried to fend it off.
There is no way she can explain all of this. She doesn't think she'll ever be able to and maybe that's for the best. Maybe what happened that night, in that cell, should only be for Ethan and Elena to know. They should've have had to experience something like that to begin with. It never should've happened but it did, and she can carry that with him.
The worst didn't come to pass. Despite their fears, it was a test, and it's -- she's not dead and she has to convince him of that somehow. She has to bring him back out long enough for him to realize what's real and what isn't and she's terrified of that vacancy.
Of that nothingness.
Elena gives pause once Logan says what he says.
It was only a few short words but they carry a punch. Not that it's anything in comparison to the punch that travels right to her gut when she turns a fraction and spots him.
The sight of him terrifies her. More than being locked in that cage did. It's like he's not there and much like Logan, Elena refuses to lose any of them when they're somehow all alive. They learned in a terribly difficult way that death is not the worst of options but they somehow made it all alive and it has to mean something.
Elena scans the length of him, watching his face in confusion, watching as he doesn't -- as it doesn't register. Not the sound of her voice and not the touch of her hand and this is not the same Ethan she left in the cell before he began to transform. She knows it, the same way she knows she is not the same girl that was carried off, but it is still Ethan.
And she does still love him.
Nothing would change that, not the claws on her skin and what they almost made him do.
None of it.
Elena glances back at Connor and Logan before she focuses on Ethan once more. When she speaks, it's as quietly as he does, for only Ethan to hear. Connor can't make out what they're saying but it's just as well. He's leaning against the door as if guarding it, as if not -- not wanting to let anything else touch any of them, but especially Ethan.
His whole body aches and the anger threatens to consume him, the force of it nearly sending him to the floor but he remains standing, back against the wall, vigilant. Hoping.
Hoping.
"No," she says, shaking her head. Her voice manages to sound tearful and strong at the same time. The narration doesn't know how she manages it but she does. She swallows past the unsteadiness that threatens to make her voice crack. "No, it's not. It's not a trick. Ethan, it was an animal. They replaced me with an animal so you'd think it was me. The blood was not mine. I tried to tell you."
Elena picks up his hand and places it over the side of her face.
"This is real," she tells him, willing him to believe it. "I'm real. Ethan, you have to believe me."
She doesn't say anything else yet, only keeps the palm of his hand directly over the side of her face. She holds it against her cheek with her own hand, fingers splaying gently on top of his own.
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The way he sounded when he said he was sorry.
The pain he was in every time he tried to fend it off.
There is no way she can explain all of this. She doesn't think she'll ever be able to and maybe that's for the best. Maybe what happened that night, in that cell, should only be for Ethan and Elena to know. They should've have had to experience something like that to begin with. It never should've happened but it did, and she can carry that with him.
The worst didn't come to pass. Despite their fears, it was a test, and it's -- she's not dead and she has to convince him of that somehow. She has to bring him back out long enough for him to realize what's real and what isn't and she's terrified of that vacancy.
Of that nothingness.
Elena gives pause once Logan says what he says.
It was only a few short words but they carry a punch. Not that it's anything in comparison to the punch that travels right to her gut when she turns a fraction and spots him.
The sight of him terrifies her. More than being locked in that cage did. It's like he's not there and much like Logan, Elena refuses to lose any of them when they're somehow all alive. They learned in a terribly difficult way that death is not the worst of options but they somehow made it all alive and it has to mean something.
Elena scans the length of him, watching his face in confusion, watching as he doesn't -- as it doesn't register. Not the sound of her voice and not the touch of her hand and this is not the same Ethan she left in the cell before he began to transform. She knows it, the same way she knows she is not the same girl that was carried off, but it is still Ethan.
And she does still love him.
Nothing would change that, not the claws on her skin and what they almost made him do.
None of it.
Elena glances back at Connor and Logan before she focuses on Ethan once more. When she speaks, it's as quietly as he does, for only Ethan to hear. Connor can't make out what they're saying but it's just as well. He's leaning against the door as if guarding it, as if not -- not wanting to let anything else touch any of them, but especially Ethan.
His whole body aches and the anger threatens to consume him, the force of it nearly sending him to the floor but he remains standing, back against the wall, vigilant. Hoping.
Hoping.
"No," she says, shaking her head. Her voice manages to sound tearful and strong at the same time. The narration doesn't know how she manages it but she does. She swallows past the unsteadiness that threatens to make her voice crack. "No, it's not. It's not a trick. Ethan, it was an animal. They replaced me with an animal so you'd think it was me. The blood was not mine. I tried to tell you."
Elena picks up his hand and places it over the side of her face.
"This is real," she tells him, willing him to believe it. "I'm real. Ethan, you have to believe me."
She doesn't say anything else yet, only keeps the palm of his hand directly over the side of her face. She holds it against her cheek with her own hand, fingers splaying gently on top of his own.
It's real.