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❝watch closely❞
"ELENA!"
Elena startles, her teary eyes snapping from Bonnie to look at Ric as he jogs to them. "Ric?"
"He has Jeremy,"
"What?" Both girls echo the word in disbelief, and Elena shares a panicked look with Bonnie, grabbing her hand as a crutch.
Ric nods, out of breath. "Damon has Jeremy, come on," He gestures for them to follow him, and they do so blindly, missing the evil shimmer that shines through their beloved teacher's eyes.
Elena and Bonnie rush into the empty, dark hallway, away from the students gathered for the dance. Alaric leads them through the hallway towards the cafeteria, his steps heavy and determined as he leads the two girl away from anyone that could save them.
"Where are you taking us?"
"Just a little further," He mutters, his tone dark enough to make the two girls share a wary look at the unusual demeanor.
Elena lets out a shaky breath. "Wait, something's not right," She looks over her shoulder, a chill crawling her spine as she peers into the shadows.
"Where's Jeremy?" Bonnie's tone is harsh, her patience little to none at Alaric's crypticness, and the edge of her looming death.
Alaric stops, his determined look relaxing into a dangerous, smug smile that was so unlike the goodhearted history teacher. "I just had to get away from that dance. The sixties, ugh, not my decade." He makes a disgusted noise and turns around to face them, watching the realization set in on the two girl's faces.
He holds his arms out, shrugging slightly. "I mean, whose call was that, anyway? I much prefer the twenties. The style, the parties, the jazz. Stefan would certainly agree with me, I'm sure."
Elena shares a wary, confused look with Bonnie before looking back to Ric. "Alaric, are you on vervain?"
He stops in his slow steps towards them, an irritated flicker making his mouth twitch with a frown. "Now why would you ask me that question, Elena?"
She takes a wary step away from him, shifting behind Bonnie. "He's being compelled."
"Nope. Try again."
Bonnie holds a protective arm in front of Elena, glaring at Alaric. "What's going on?"
Alaric sighs, put upon by their oblivious questioning. "Okay, I'll give you a hint. Iam not Alaric."
He looks at Elena unwaveringly, watching as her face furrows as she processes his words, and puts the puzzle pieces together. She takes in a sharp, shaky breath that almost hurts to exhale. "Klaus."
