It was a lie if I said that I wasn't jealous of Elena getting a second chance at a human life. I was bitter whenever I saw her, the hate in me swarming around me like a hive of hornets. There were times where I wanted to sink my teeth into her neck and drink the cure from her blood, but I stopped myself. The only reason I stopped myself wasn't because I thought about Elena's life, but because of Damon. If he were truly prepared to be human, truly wanted it, his only way was to drink from her. He was the reason why I stopped myself, why I decided to continue a miserable life as a vampire.

   I sat in the back of the car and glanced between the brothers, my eyes landing more on the oldest. As I stared, I continued to try and picture him as a human. The thing was that I couldn't. The boy I knew, the man I was going to marry—both humans—had disappeared. There was no trace of the old him left. I continued to wonder how would he survive being human, how would he go through with life without being able to compel and harm.

   "Sure, I'll be your best man, Ric," Damon mockingly said. "But first, hang out with the worst man so that my brother and best friend can kidnap me on the day of your wedding."

   Stefan looked at him with an offended look. "Hey, don't you hate weddings, anyway?"

   "I hate little-Stefan mind games even more."

   I rolled my eyes. "You're just annoyed that we didn't let you be with Elena," I said, my voice sounding more angry than I wanted.

   "I'm angry because I don't know where the hell you two are taking me," he spat, quickly glaring back at him. "So, anytime anyone want to clue me in as to where the hell we're going..."

   Stefan parked the car in front of a brown house and grinned widely while looking at his brother. "Look, here we are."

   I got out of the car and looked around. It was an old house in an old neighbourhood in some suburban town, somewhere close but far enough from Mystic Falls. I could tell by the size of the trees, how they were taller and covered more ground. Next to the house was a kid kicking a soccer ball into a makeshift net. I took a deep breath and looked back at the house, realising that it still looked new yet as if no one had lived there for quite some time.

   "Is Mr. Rogers expecting us?" Damon sarcastically asked. 

  "You know Mr. Rogers is dead, right?" Stefan retorted.

   Damon made a face. "Yeah, you two are going to join him in make-believe if you don't get to the damn point."

   Stefan stopped and pointed at the house with his hand. "So, this is a house I lived in during one of my many attempts to star over." He looked at his brother as he laid his hands on his waist. "Welcome to your suburban nightmare."

   I let out a small hum as I crossed my arms. "It looks cosy."

   Damon huffed. "You don't think I have thought this true?" He turned to his brother, a look of annoyance in his features.

   "You thought about a life with Elena," I said, taking a step between the brothers. My eyes were glued on the man with the blue eyes, the oldest. "What you haven't thought about is neighbours, or a mortgage, or—" A ball flew towards Damon, who caught it and half-glared at the kid who kicked it. I glanced at the boy and let out a sigh. "Or kids, Damon."

   "It might not be your thing," Stefan finished with a shrug of his shoulders. He gave his brother a closed-mouth smile and made his way towards the front door.

   I took a deep breath. "We're trying to make you see the good and the bad," I said, quickly glancing at Damon. "Sometimes, there's more bad than good." I gave his arm a squeeze and moved away, towards the front door. 

   Stefan was already inside, glancing around with a melancholic look in his face. As he moved deeper into the house, I could imagine him living there. The thing was, that he was alone. How could he live alone in a suburban house? I could see him sitting in the living room, opening mail and making a face at whatever is that he read. I could see him coming home from work, all tired and annoyed about something that happened with a costumer. I could see him as human.

   "Yeah, it's nice," Damon said from behind me. He brushed my shoulder and followed Stefan into the kitchen. He eyed his brother, who stood by the microwave, for a moment. "Brazilian hardwoods, open floor plan, updated kitchen." He picked up a magazine from the table behind the couch. "What kind of roadkill are you cooking in there?"

   "Well, considering the fact that you actually have to eat as a human, I wanted to give you a little taste of what your dinner's gonna look like." He pulled out a frozen dinner from the microwave and threw it on the counter with a smile. "You don't cook, Elena can't cook. Who has time anyway with work and kids, right?"

   "Damon can cook," I said as I leaned against the table and crossed my arms. "Only one thing, though. Pancakes. And they barely have flavour."

   Damon glared at me for a moment as he picked up the frozen dinner. He opened the corner and sniffed, grimacing.

   "Mm," Stefan hummed. "Salisbury steak. Dig in, Damon. You're gonna need all that energy for this." He grabbed a stack of files and threw them on the table behind me. 

   Damon stared at them, bemused. "What's this?"

   "That's just the rest of your life." Stefan crossed his arms and shrugged. 

   "Paperwork?" The oldest brother held annoyance on his face, on the way he slumped his body to the side. "That's your big move?"

   "Let me ask you something," Stefan began. "When was the last time you filled out paperwork of any kind? Taxes, health insurance, driver's license..."

   "Every idiot in the country does it!" Damon defended. "You think I'm gonna have trouble with this?"

   "Yes," I said, nodding. "You will, the first time you encounter a moron that you can't kill or compel. Well, you can kill, but that will probably take your ass to prison."

   Damon brushed by me and spread his arms. "Maybe." He opened the refrigerator. "Then I would come home, pop a beer from my beautiful stainless steel refrigerator." He opened a bottle of beer, threw the cap to the sink, and took a swig.

   "Which you won't be able to afford unless you have a job," Stefan said. "And if you're about to say you can borrow money from me or Clara, you can't."

   "Well, that's not very brotherly of you," he said, then turned to me. "Not very friendly of you, Clara."

   I sucked in a breath as I frowned. "It is," I said as I glanced towards Stefan. "If you take that cure, Stefan and I can no longer be in your life." I said the words softly, each one feeling like a stab in my chest. 

   "What?" Damon turned to his brother.

   "See, we won't know where you live," he began. "You'll have the cure running through your veins, and if we know where you are, then someone can use us to track you down and take the cure from you and turn you into a 172-year-old corpse."

   Damon's smile fell, but he kept a small one on his lips. He glanced down at the floor as he pursed his lips, the obvious discomfort there. 

   "What's the matter?" Stefan continued. "Haven't thought that far ahead? Eventually, word will spread and you and Elena will have to move away. You'll have to isolate yourself; no friends, no family. This will be your life, Damon. This will be your Hell."

   Damon sucked in a breath through his nose. "Well, that's where you're wrong, my brother." He pulled out a folded paper from his pocket. "This will not be my life." He unfolded it and handed it to Stefan. It was an advertisement for a bar, small and so very familiar. "This will be my life. Elena was pretty explicit about what she wanted. Now, this isn't TriBeca. New York's a little too crowded for me, but it is above the bar that I own, next to a medical school. It's in the northwest somewhere. I mean, I'd tell you where it is, but you made it abundantly clear you didn't want to know." He grinned and brushed past Stefan's shoulder, slightly pushing him. "I'm gonna check out the upstairs."

   I turned to Stefan and sighed. "He thought this through," I muttered, slightly full of disbelief. "I need a drink." I grabbed the flask from the counter, opened it, and took a long drink until my cheeks were full. I swallowed hard, the burning sensation on the back of my throat being the only thing I could feel. 

   "I'm going to call Elena," he sighed. "She should, uh, know."

   I nodded. "I'm going to walk around," I said as my feet drifted towards the other end of the house.

   The house was much more bright than I expected. The windows were fully open, the sunlight drifting in through the sheer curtains. The hardwood floor was perfectly kept, to the point where I was afraid of even stepping on them. With each step that I took, the sound of my heels echoed through the house. Was that what Stefan heard when he lived alone in the house? Just one pair of feet, the loud echo through each room, his thoughts. I shivered at the thought of such loneliness, at that past of mine where I did spend them like that.

   When I lived in Prague, I had a small apartment but I was lonely. I didn't make that many friends, because I would have to leave them in five years as if I were moving away because I found a better job. I remembered the silence I heard when I lived in that small apartment, the only sound being myself and the soft music from the radio, sometimes the television. Thinking back to those times, I feel glad that the boarding house is full of people. 

   I made my way upstairs, seeing the simple paintings on the wall. There were no pictures of families, no happy portraits or drawings by children. It was a large house, but empty of life. An outer shell of something that could be.

   From downstairs, I could hear Stefan being harsher to Damon. He was telling him of a life where Damon and Elena weren't happy, where he regretted becoming human. Each year that passed by, their lives got worse. By just seven years, their lives were slowly tearing because of Damon always getting drunk and Elena busy with her life as a doctor. It was an exaggeration, but I knew that it was for him to understand.

   The sound of glass breaking echoed through the house, followed by Stefan's harsh words. "You still can't control life or death. She's human. She could die at any moment. What is your life gonna look like without her?"

   I blocked the words out and entered one of the bedrooms. It was clearly a children's room, with a small bed in the corner and little stuffed toys strewn about. I picked up a stuffed dark green dinosaur from the floor, staring at it with furrowed brows. Why would Stefan have a child's room in the house he used to own? I realised that maybe he sold it, or gave it to someone, or rented it to a family.

   My hand unconsciously reached for my stomach. I had never truly thought that much about it since Helen told me, since Katherine confirmed it. I was pregnant. There were times where I thought about it, but they quickly left my mind. I had been pregnant. I could have had the human experience of having a family of my own. A little child that would run around, call me Mother or Mom; a little boy or girl that I could protect from the horrors of the world as much as I could. Those thoughts made me cringe at that moment.

   "Stefan left."

   I turned my head to see Damon standing a few steps behind me. He looked so casual, so inhuman with the shadows touching his face. I quickly put the stuffed dinosaur on the bed and turned completely to him. "Why?"

   "Well, after he told me that it was basically Elena's idea for you two to try and convince me not to be human, I needed some time to think." He grabbed the dinosaur from the bed as he took a seat where it was, a sigh leaving his mouth. "I told him to leave you with me," He paused and looked over at me. "That you could help me come with up with a decision, I mean."

   I nodded as I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. "You're wrong." A soft chuckle left my mouth, not at all from something funny. It was out of nowhere, something to smooth a dull ache in my chest. "Damon, we just..."

   "You two don't want me to become human," he interrupted. "I know. There's no one I know more than my brother and you." He gave me a tight-lipped smile as he twirled the stuffed toy in his hands. "What do you think I should do, Clara?"

   "That's the thing, I can't..." I paused and bit the inside of my lip, trailing my eyes around the room for words I couldn't form. "Damon, you were always searching for something more when you were human. You wanted more than the ordinary life back then could give you. I think that's why you cheated on me with Katherine." I lifted a hand as he opened his mouth to say something. "I'm not blaming you for what happened, that's in the past. What I'm trying to say is that you always wanted something more than life could give you, which is why I can't picture you as a human anymore."

   He hummed and nodded. "So, you're telling me not to take it?"

   "Yes." I realised my words and quickly shook my head. "I mean, no. Yes. No. No, I'm not... What I'm trying to say is—"

   "Clara, for once..." He paused and stared at me, blue eyes twinkling with the bit of sunlight that came through the window. "Right now, I want you to be selfish. Don't tell me what you think I want to hear, okay? Tell me what you're really thinking."

   My jaw clenched as I stared him. If he wanted me to be selfish, to tell him how I honestly felt, for once I would do just that. I took a deep breath and looked at the window, seeing the bit of sunlight come in and colour the carpet a brighter colour than it originally was. "I don't..." I took another deep breath. "I don't want you to take the cure, Damon, because I honestly can't imagine my life without you." 

   There were those words, those terribly selfish words. 

   True. The most truthful thing I had ever said about my feelings to him, to anyone.

   "Clara..."

   "You told me to be selfish with my words, so that's what I'm doing," I quickly said, stopping him from finishing whatever it was he began. I looked down at my hands as I played with my fingers, avoiding his stare. "I'm not thinking about tomorrow, or a month, or a year from now; I'm thinking about the eternity I have to spend without you. I'm thinking about the years I have to spend wondering how you're doing, whether you're alive or not." My voice broke with each word that left my mouth. I slowly looked up at him, every piece of me breaking under his stare. "I was a mess the four months I thought you were dead, Damon. I can't even begin to imagine a lifetime."

   Damon laid the dinosaur on the bed and stood, slowly making his way towards me. He stopped when he was at least five steps away. It was as if he were afraid of what would happen if he came too close. "Clara," he softly said as he shook his head. His brows were furrowed, confusion swimming in the hurricane that were his eyes. "Is this your way of confessing your undying love to me?"

   "I'm trying to be serious!"

   "And I'm trying to control everything that I want to do right now!" He closed the distance between us, almost pressing me against the wall. His hands were right next to my ears, his nails digging into the wall behind me. "My thoughts are drowning me right now, Clara. Each thing that I want to do contradicts the other."

   I swallowed hard, my lips falling slightly open afterwards. "What's so contradicting, Damon?"

   He licked his bottom lip and bit it as he leaned closer. "Everything," he said, then pulled away. "Do you have any idea how much your words mess with me? Last week, you told me you didn't want me to leave you. Do you know what that did to me? Clara, for a moment, I..." He continued to stare at me, eyes darting from my lips to my eyes over again. A sigh escaped his mouth and he shook his head, turning around and stalked out of the bedroom. 

   A shaky breath left my mouth, one that I didn't know I was holding. I bit my bottom lip hard, drawing blood. There were unresolved feelings reeling inside of me, drowning me. I swallowed hard and leaned against the wall, closing my eyes. In the shallow of my feelings, I knew what I wanted to happen. The moment Damon walked into the room, I had wanted him to push me against the wall and kiss me. I wanted him to ravish me, just like he had done those years ago at the house I owned and he burned down. What terrible, horrible thoughts. 

   I waited a few minutes to control myself, my breathing, before I went downstairs. In those few minutes, I realised that I could no longer be selfish. Even if he told me to be just that, I couldn't. It felt as if there was something strangling me when I said those words. This wasn't about me, about what I felt for him, that I wanted him to stay a vampire. This was about him, about the future he wanted with Elena, about a life he never really had. He should have that.

   Damon sat on the front porch and stared at nothing, hands pressed together in front of me. He only craned his head back when I came out, then continued to stare at nothing in front of him.

   I sat besides him and leaned against my thighs, looking from one end of the street to the other. "Take the cure," I said. "Take that cure and live, Damon. You deserve that."

   "What are you talking about now?" He turned to me with a raised brow, a confused look on his face. "Ten minutes ago, you told me you—"

   "I know what I said!" I interrupted. "But, damn it, you deserve happiness, okay? And, I can... I can see the way you want that life with Elena, since you planned it all out. So, take the cure and live, be happy."

   He continued to stare at me, his mouth slightly open with lost words. "What about your happiness?" he asked. 

   "That doesn't matter," I smiled. "I would be thankful for all the happiness I had with you if it meant you could be truly happy, Damon." Before he said anything, I stood and walked back inside. 

   Stefan had left my dress over the couch in the living room. I grabbed it and went to the bathroom, quickly changing into it. It was a simple floral-embroidered navy coloured dress, with the sleeves to my elbows and the colourful embroideries making me feel as if it were spring. My hair was in simple waves, reminding me of how I wore it during the Forties. I took a deep breath and walked out. 

   Damon was dressed in his tux, fixing his tie as he looked in the mirror in the living room. He looked over at me for a second before looking back at the mirror. "I popped the neighbour's soccer ball," he said as he fixed his jacket. "And then, I compelled his mother to give us the keys to her car. I promised I returned it once the wedding was over."

   "So nice of you," I hummed as I smoothed my skirt. 

   "And then I figured out what I want to do," he finished. He moved towards me and gave me a tight-lipped smile. "Turn around. Your zipper is halfway up." I did as he said and turned around. His fingers pressed gently against my back as he grabbed the zipper, but they didn't move. "I made up my mind, Clara."

   I swallowed and looked at the mirror, at his eyes. "And that is?"

   "I'm going to take it," he said, pulling up the rest of the zipper. "I'm going to take the cure, live a human life with Elena, and be happy."

   My mouth fell slightly open at his words. "Are you going to take it tonight?"

   He nodded. "After the wedding."

   I clenched my jaw and nodded, pulling away and turning to face him. "So, tonight will be the last night I'll ever see you," I said, my voice breaking. I forced a wide smile and moved closer to him, laying a hand on his cheek. "It was amazing knowing you, Damon Salvatore." I kissed his other cheek and pulled away, forcing another smile. Before he said anything, I turned and walked out of the house. 

   Jo and Alaric's wedding was to be held in the outskirts of Mystic Falls, in a small barn that was widely decorated beautifully. Strings of lights hung from the walls and the makeshift curtains the decorators pulled up, making the atmosphere feel warm and romantic. There was chandeliers leading down the aisle, a tarp on the ceiling with little lights to make it appear like a starry night. The altar was covered in a variety of flowers, ranging from white and a soft baby pink. 

   I brushed my fingers against the flowers and looked outside the large windows, seeing the few guests walk around and admire the scenery. It was such a small and serene moment, that I forgot about everything that had happened. I forgot about Damon and Stefan, about decisions, about me wanting to rip into any human's throat and drink them dry. For a moment, I felt serene.

   I met with Alaric and shared a drink with him, toasting for his wedding and for his future with Jo. With a smile on my lips, I told him about how I cherished his friendship and thanked him for always being there for me even when he hated what I was. He quickly stopped me, and said that he never hated me. For a moment he did, but it was because he never knew how miserable it was to be a vampire until it happened to him.

   I realised that Alaric meant a lot to me. We had spent a lot of time together, bonded over drinks the four months we thought Damon died. In those four months, we became closer than before. I gave him a hug and grinned, genuinely happy for him. "I hope I can make a speech during the reception," I teased. "Oh, you're going to love how I'm going to tell embarrassing stories about you!"

   "We can't find Damon," Stefan said as he walked in, "or Elena."

   I cringed at their names, but forced a smile. "They'll be here," I said as I glanced at Alaric. "But, right now, you need to make your way to the altar. I'll go check on Jo."

   Stefan grabbed my arm as I walked past him, smiling. "Caroline's here."

   "What?"

   "Caroline's here," he said. "She arrived this morning, when we were at the house. She's with Jo right now."

   I pulled away from him and ran towards where Jo was getting ready. The door was ajar, and I could hear Caroline leaving a voicemail for Elena. I opened the door and stared at her, confused for a moment. When I was in the cellar, when my humanity was off, they all used to give me dreams of Caroline being there. They made her speak about how much she hated me without humanity, how she missed me, words that would make me care. But, I hadn't budged, I hadn't bothered to care. As I saw her in front of me, I couldn't help but feel a genuine smile appear on my lips. 

   She turned and stared at me, a smile widening on her lips. "Clara!" She hurried towards me and wrapped her arms around my neck.

   "Care!" I hugged her just as tight, laughing. There was joy surging through me. She was the only family I had left, the only person I cared most about in the world. "I missed you so much!"

   "I missed you too," she cried. She pulled away but kept her arms on my shoulders, grinning. "After this wedding, you and I need to catch up, okay? Right now, I need to figure out where the hell Elena and Damon are."

   Behind us, Jo began to laugh.

   Caroline turned to her. "This is not funny!"

   "It's kind of funny," Jo giggled. 

   Stefan peeked through the door. "Listen, I don't want to tell you how to run your wedding, but..."

   "We're not waiting anymore," Caroline said. "Tell them to cue the music."

   Stefan and I took our seat in the second row, leaving and empty space for Caroline to sit once she was finished with Jo. Alaric grinned widely as he made his way down the aisle, taking his spot in the alter. He pressed his hands together in front of him and wiggled his brows once, a nervous laugh escaping his mouth. 

   The music began, a soft cover of the wedding march weaving its way through the barn. Damon and Elena walked down the aisle first, both grinning widely. The eldest Salvatore took a stand behind Alaric, smiling at the man with gentleness in his eyes. Alaric asked him something quietly, widening his eyes when the response came. 

   Damon's eyes landed on me, a small smile playing at his lips. 

   I gave him a tight-lipped smile, then turned my head when the sound of a dress came. Jo walked down the aisle with an older man at her arms, her father. They both held wide smiles, especially Jo. Her eyes were focused on the man waiting for her at the altar, the man that she would be sharing the rest of her life with. I couldn't help but smile at them, imagine their future life and their children. For them, I was truly happy.

   "Welcome, family and friends," the Reverend smiled, "on this magical evening to the wedding of Alaric Saltzman and Josettle Loughlin. Josette and Alaric have prepared their own vows."

   Alaric smiled nervously, and cleared his throat. "Neither one of us should be here right now," he began. "We've spent our lives dodging fate and beating the odds. But, because we did, I got to meet you, the most beautiful, and hilarious, and intimidatingly brilliant woman I have ever known. You inspire me, you've shown me that happiness is actually something that I can have life. And so..." He grabbed the ring from Damon and twirled it in fingers. "I promise to be with you, and love you, and to dodge fate with you—" He slid the ring on her finger. "—for the rest of our lives."

   Alaric had outdone himself with his vows. I couldn't help but smile at him, at them, at the simple look of love they shared between each other. That was true love, the happiest I had ever seen Alaric. 

   Jo wiped away a tear. "Oh god, that's a tough act to follow," she giggled. "Here it goes. Alaric Saltzman, you are..." She suddenly stopped and gasped loudly, a look of pain filling her face. 

   Alaric yelled out her name as she swayed and gasped in pain. Blood poured from the front of her dress, as if she had been stabbed from behind. The smell was strong, but I didn't feel the ravenous hunger. My eyes were wide as I stared at Jo and Alaric. She screamed out in pain and fell forward, Alaric catching her. 

   Kai stood behind her, a smirk on his lips. "I was gonna wait 'til the 'death do us apart' bit, but it seemed a little on the nose. Am I right?" He spread his arms in amusement. When someone stood to rush towards Jo, Kai raised his hand. A high-pitched noise erupted all around us.

   I covered my ears and screamed. It felt as if my brain was being pricked with nails over and over again, pulled and pushed in all the wrong directions. I managed to look up through the pain, seeing Kai stand by Jo and Alaric with a knife in one hand. The anger in his eyes was clear, burning a bright red. He lifted a hand and the windows shattered, the power of it causing a large gust of wind to push everything and everyone. I was thrown back, pieces of glass digging into my skin. One large piece dug into my throat, causing me to gasp out for air. 

   "Clara!" Stefan crawled towards me, his hand laying on my neck.

   The piece of glass had dug itself deep in my neck, making me unable to breathe. I glanced over at Stefan, opening my mouth to say something but all that came out were my chocked breaths. There were spots in my vision with every breath that escaped my mouth. It had happened so many times to me, something I knew more than I knew myself. I was dying, slowly and painfully, with a shard of glass on my neck and the screams of people around me.