Bienvenue

Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR:

A few steps into the unfamiliar room and she collapsed to her knees, sobbing. She grabbed at her chest, physically feeling her heart breaking. Why? Why? Why was it every time she let her guard down, it backfired on her face.

The thing about doppelgangers, the more she thought about it, the more she panicked-- It felt like her body and face weren’t hers. They belonged to another girl a thousand years ago, and another five centuries ago. They were the originals, not her. The third. She was the third, unmemorable.

And Klaus.

Oh God, Klaus. Could he have been a worse monster? Her aunt? He killed her aunt. She didn’t know who Tyler was, but he’d murdered someone’s mom. It was beyond forgiveness in her book. 

And she was in his house, in his city, under his mercy. 

She sobbed so hard, clutching her middle. She cried until her body hurt, until it felt like she was going blind after all from how many tears she shed and how tightly she shut her eyes in hopes to wake up from this nightmare. Doing that was hard because she had no better place to long for, no safe haven. Last night, she’d naively thought Elijah was that for her.

This Damon Salvatore they spoke about didn’t feel real. If he was, why wasn’t he here for her? Why had he let her get hurt so much? 

Her body settling, the pain that had been overall agony was now focused to arm. 

Maybe Elena Gilbert deserved this, but she certainly didn’t.

It was Marcel who came up to comfort her. Not Elijah or Klaus. 

In her haste to hide her breakdown, she hadn’t locked the door. So, Marcel got the full view of her curled on the bed, back to the headboard and her knees drawn to her chest.

“Hey,” he said gently. 

She didn’t say anything, only moving her head slightly to watch him so he wouldn’t catch her by surprise. At this point, she wasn’t sure if these people would actually hurt her.

“So…” Marcel drawled. Slowly, he approached, as if not to startle her the same way one would treat a skittish animal. “Klaus’ an asshole.”

Name calling didn’t feel like her thing, but she silently agreed.

“I wish I could say he’s only bark and no bite, but he isn’t. Not to his enemies.”

That got her. “And I’m his enemy. Or, Elena Gilbert was.”

“Imagine if you were looking at the face of the person who killed your brothers,” Marcel tried. 

“Brothers? As in plural?” she demanded in alarm.

Marcel winced. “‘Yeah, but Finn was trying to kill them at the time, so it kind of cancels out? I don’t. He’s only bitter about Kol.”

“He says he killed my aunt.”

Marcel’s lips tightened into a thin line. “From what I hear, Klaus and Mystic Falls have a bloody history.”

“But I didn’t do anything,” she said passionately. She even straightened into a normal sitting position. “I don’t want to be enemies with anyone. I don’t want be Elena Gilbert.” She then added quietly. “Even if I am.”

Like he understood, Marcel nodded. He took a moment to look around the room she’d holed up in. It was becoming clear he didn’t know what to say. 

“What if you don’t have to be?” he said finally.

“What?”

“You clearly don’t like the person you were before losing your memories,” Marcel explained. He looked enlightened by his own idea. “Physically, you’re Elena. And until you get your mind back, you’re like a new, different person. Take advantage of that. Everyone hopes they could wipe away the sins of their past. They get drunk and high to try to forget them. As horrible as it might sound, make the best of this.”