No matter which way they looked at it, they were trapped, outnumbered, and easily overcome. It's painful how easily they were overcome when the time came, how it didn't take much at all for Lucien to swoop through the city and claim all of them as his possessions, as his newest toys to play with and break and mold again however he saw fit.
Those that had no use for him were quickly disposed of, and Elena doesn't want to think of all the many people that he killed.
Long before he ever came to Chicago, there were so many lives he took.
He ravaged a whole village, blackmailed, threatened, and intimidated innocent parties who weren't even directly related to them so as long as he could carve the path that would lead to them, at their most vulnerable.
Connor cannot contemplate any other possibility, either.
He has to be dead. After everything he did, after everything that happened, he needs to be dead. It makes him sick, the thoughts that swirl around his head, since -- it was too fast. Connor saw them take him down and it felt too fast, too easy, and it scares him that those are the thoughts. That his own rage swells and does not let him be because he didn't wrap his own hands around the monster's neck while squeezing his life away.
He brought out the worst in all of them.
He brought out the violence, the anger, the hatred.
Connor has never hated anything or anyone with as much consuming force the way he does that monster, and he needs Lucien to be dead. They all need him to be dead if they have any sort of hope of moving on. The thought of them always watching their backs, waiting for Lucien attempting to strike again, the thought of going through anything like this ever again -- it nearly makes his own brain shut down.
He'll stay close by also, however. There's nothing else he can do when his brother is staring off into the nothingness, unresponsive. They are all heavily scarred, they're all traumatized, but none of them have -- no one else has quite gotten like this, and the fact that Ethan isn't talking and they don't know why unsettles him that much more.
They tried everything but Ethan just shut down.
He shut down completely and nothing was bringing him back and that's how Connor knows whatever happened, it was so more unspeakable than anything he likely went through, so much more unspeakable than he can imagine.
He half doesn't want to.
The only reason he does is so that he can understand enough to do something that will help and like Logan, Connor has to believe there is something that will help. That it's not hopeless because there's so much that did end up being hopeless. Their all being alive has to be the one thing that isn't -- that won't be hopeless.
Elena wasn't thinking about her pain. She wasn't thinking about how slowly it would come or that she'd be torn apart limb by limb. She was only thinking about him and the way he fought those shackles and how he was trying to get them to his neck to kill himself. That's all she could think about while knowing she couldn't let it happen.
Needing to believe that it wouldn't happen, not for himself and not for her.
"No," she reassures him with the vehement shake of her head. The expression on her face is one that's similar to his, for the exact same reasons. She longs and wants and needs him to believe it. "Not my blood. They got me out of there and left you with the carcass instead. Ethan, I promise you that's what happened."
The expression on her face now twists into something painful at the sight of his crumpling face. She does not love him any less. She does not view him in any different way. The werewolf side of him, it wasn't something he could help and Elena saw how hard he tried, how he managed to successfully prolong the transformation for as long as he could so he wouldn't hurt her. It was nothing he ever meant to do and Elena will not and could not ever hold it against him.
"I know. We admitted it to each other, remember? I love you and you love me."
She's the only one that could know it.
She's the only one that could possibly remind him of it because she was there alongside him but she wasn't there for as long as he thought she was. Elena wanted to return as soon as it was all over so she could tell him the truth but it was impossible.
Elena looks over at them gratefully, when they stand behind her, when they tell Ethan what he should know. "I tried getting to you as soon as I could. They wouldn't let me. You didn't hurt me, Ethan, you have to know that," Elena says, with the same quiet insistence that Logan used only with an edge of a plea to it, as well. The urgency rushes through her and she's incapable of doing anything else.
She senses the moment where it finally clicks, and she almost sobs in relief.
"It's me," she repeats after him, smiling through her tears even if it is in no way a happy smile. Her hands drift down his face to cup his neck, keeping him close so that he can see for himself, and she isn't going to reach for his hand again if he's afraid to touch her but she is not afraid to touch him and she's not going anywhere.
Elena wraps her arms tightly around his neck when he pulls her in, looking at Connor and Logan in relief before she buries her own face against him, tightening her arms around him as she presses as closely into him as she possibly can, as if she wants to wrap around him whole. "It's me and I'm okay. I promise you I'm okay," she whispers against his neck, resting her lips there softly.
Her fingers curl into his hair with the same gentleness she's used thus far, despite how tight her hold is, practically clinging. Her hands move up and down his back, his arms, as she can feel the shaking there, despite the muted tremors running past her own skin.
"I'm here," she whispers. Again and again and again.
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No matter which way they looked at it, they were trapped, outnumbered, and easily overcome. It's painful how easily they were overcome when the time came, how it didn't take much at all for Lucien to swoop through the city and claim all of them as his possessions, as his newest toys to play with and break and mold again however he saw fit.
Those that had no use for him were quickly disposed of, and Elena doesn't want to think of all the many people that he killed.
Long before he ever came to Chicago, there were so many lives he took.
He ravaged a whole village, blackmailed, threatened, and intimidated innocent parties who weren't even directly related to them so as long as he could carve the path that would lead to them, at their most vulnerable.
Connor cannot contemplate any other possibility, either.
He has to be dead. After everything he did, after everything that happened, he needs to be dead. It makes him sick, the thoughts that swirl around his head, since -- it was too fast. Connor saw them take him down and it felt too fast, too easy, and it scares him that those are the thoughts. That his own rage swells and does not let him be because he didn't wrap his own hands around the monster's neck while squeezing his life away.
He brought out the worst in all of them.
He brought out the violence, the anger, the hatred.
Connor has never hated anything or anyone with as much consuming force the way he does that monster, and he needs Lucien to be dead. They all need him to be dead if they have any sort of hope of moving on. The thought of them always watching their backs, waiting for Lucien attempting to strike again, the thought of going through anything like this ever again -- it nearly makes his own brain shut down.
He'll stay close by also, however. There's nothing else he can do when his brother is staring off into the nothingness, unresponsive. They are all heavily scarred, they're all traumatized, but none of them have -- no one else has quite gotten like this, and the fact that Ethan isn't talking and they don't know why unsettles him that much more.
They tried everything but Ethan just shut down.
He shut down completely and nothing was bringing him back and that's how Connor knows whatever happened, it was so more unspeakable than anything he likely went through, so much more unspeakable than he can imagine.
He half doesn't want to.
The only reason he does is so that he can understand enough to do something that will help and like Logan, Connor has to believe there is something that will help. That it's not hopeless because there's so much that did end up being hopeless. Their all being alive has to be the one thing that isn't -- that won't be hopeless.
Elena wasn't thinking about her pain. She wasn't thinking about how slowly it would come or that she'd be torn apart limb by limb. She was only thinking about him and the way he fought those shackles and how he was trying to get them to his neck to kill himself. That's all she could think about while knowing she couldn't let it happen.
Needing to believe that it wouldn't happen, not for himself and not for her.
"No," she reassures him with the vehement shake of her head. The expression on her face is one that's similar to his, for the exact same reasons. She longs and wants and needs him to believe it. "Not my blood. They got me out of there and left you with the carcass instead. Ethan, I promise you that's what happened."
The expression on her face now twists into something painful at the sight of his crumpling face. She does not love him any less. She does not view him in any different way. The werewolf side of him, it wasn't something he could help and Elena saw how hard he tried, how he managed to successfully prolong the transformation for as long as he could so he wouldn't hurt her. It was nothing he ever meant to do and Elena will not and could not ever hold it against him.
"I know. We admitted it to each other, remember? I love you and you love me."
She's the only one that could know it.
She's the only one that could possibly remind him of it because she was there alongside him but she wasn't there for as long as he thought she was. Elena wanted to return as soon as it was all over so she could tell him the truth but it was impossible.
Elena looks over at them gratefully, when they stand behind her, when they tell Ethan what he should know. "I tried getting to you as soon as I could. They wouldn't let me. You didn't hurt me, Ethan, you have to know that," Elena says, with the same quiet insistence that Logan used only with an edge of a plea to it, as well. The urgency rushes through her and she's incapable of doing anything else.
She senses the moment where it finally clicks, and she almost sobs in relief.
"It's me," she repeats after him, smiling through her tears even if it is in no way a happy smile. Her hands drift down his face to cup his neck, keeping him close so that he can see for himself, and she isn't going to reach for his hand again if he's afraid to touch her but she is not afraid to touch him and she's not going anywhere.
Elena wraps her arms tightly around his neck when he pulls her in, looking at Connor and Logan in relief before she buries her own face against him, tightening her arms around him as she presses as closely into him as she possibly can, as if she wants to wrap around him whole. "It's me and I'm okay. I promise you I'm okay," she whispers against his neck, resting her lips there softly.
Her fingers curl into his hair with the same gentleness she's used thus far, despite how tight her hold is, practically clinging. Her hands move up and down his back, his arms, as she can feel the shaking there, despite the muted tremors running past her own skin.
"I'm here," she whispers. Again and again and again.
She's here and so is he and they made it through.