(warning: a mention of SA, just a reference, nothing shown. Unreliable narrator) 

(please dont ghost read, its very demotivating)

(sorry just editing)

The notion of a true self has lingered like smoke through centuries of thought, curling through philosophy, religion, science and madness alike. A debate of whether such a thing truly exists. A singular essence buried deep beneath the masks, the performance, the decay of time.

Some say no. That the self is a myth we cradle like a relic, something fragile yet imagined, passed down through memory and sentiment. Others believe we are born as our truest forms, small and untouched, before the world begins its slow work of carving into us.

But even then, who recalls the soul they carried as a child? Who can claim to have never changed their shape to survive?

In regards to vampires, certain questions can be asked. Can they alter what they are at their core? Or was the core always hollow?

Perhaps the self isn't a fixed thing at all. Perhaps it flickers like candlelight in a draft, trembling with every wound, each lie, all the longings too sharp to name. Perhaps no one, not even the bearer, truly knows what lies beneath the skin.

Which is part of the danger. That someday one can look in the mirror and not recognise what stares back. Or what's worse and far more terrifying....

They see something darker that was always there, waiting to be unleashed.

~~~~

The air felt heavier than usual in the dimly lit Salvatore study, the scent of old books and bourbon clung to the leather bound furniture. The fire in the hearth had long since died down to embers, reflecting the group's hope. Elena stood by the tall window, her arms folded tightly across her chest, eyes fixed on the stretch of land beyond the glass. There was something distant in her gaze, as if she was searching for something in the trees she knew wouldn't be there.

Bonnie was behind her, her posture composed, her hand found its way to the small of Elena's back, comforting her. She didn't speak immediately, words felt too small in moments like this, especially when she too was as worried, but when she did, her voice was soft, assuring. "She'll be okay." The witch murmured. "It's Mia, she's tougher than all of us combined."

The older Salvatore, who was lounging in the chair by the bookshelf with a glass in hand, scoffed without looking up, "Especially if she's got an Original hybrid as her personal bodyguard." His tone was flippant, deliberately antagonistic.

Stefan, seated across the room on the couch, lifted his head with a restrained sigh, "Enough, Damon."

"Oh, come on." Damon drawled, sitting up a tad straighter, his voice laced with a condescending twinge. "Klaus jumps into Lockwolf's body to cheat death and then skips town the exact time Pierce vanishes without a trace and that's not the tiniest bit suspicious?"

The Bennett witch frowned, tilting her head in annoyance, "Klaus didn't get back into his own body until the next day.....And no one's seen or heard from Mia since...." Her voice caught slightly, the tensions of Elena's half death lingering thickly between them.

Elena turned from the window then, her features tense with a quiet ache, "I just wish I could tell her I'm okay......ask her how she is."

"She's probably sipping cocktails, living it up in some tropical paradise, trust me." Damon drank his glass with theatrical nonchalance, as though stating something obvious.

Matt glared at him, his voice sharp, "Then why wouldn't she call us? Why wouldn't she at least check in? Something's wrong...."

"Maybe..." The older Salvatore leaned forward, arching a brow as he swirled the liquor in his glass. "...Klaus finally gave up on the long game and decided to go full caveman, cut her off from everyone. No distractions. Just him, her and nine decades of love making to catch up on."

Elena turned quickly, her brows furrowed with something between hurt and fury, her gaze flickered briefly to Stefan whose jaw was set tight, before she addressed Damon once more. "We didn't tell you about her past so you could make fun of it. It's not a joke. Not knowing how she was turned haunted Mia for ninety years, then she finds out it was Klaus, the person who's done nothing but terrorise all of us....have a little sensitivity."

Damon held his hands up, lips parting in exaggerated offense. "I apologise for belittling Saint Mia's century long existential crisis....but you can't blame me for not buying it. She didn't know it was Klaus? What did she think, she tripped into a pile of vampire teeth and whoops, immortality? Newsflash, if you're living for ninety years without asking so much as a follow up question, maybe you're not haunted, maybe you're just a little dense."

And with that Stefan shot to his feet, the couch scraping harshly against the floor from his force. "Say one more word about her." He warned, his voice low and dangerous, eyes blazing. He made his way to his brother, fists clenched at his sides. Damon merely raised his brows in amused defiance.

But before Stefan could close the distance, Matt stepped in, placing a firm hand against Stefan's chest. "Don't....He's not worth it."

Damon's grin widened instantly, "Ooh." He mocked, wiggling his fingers in the air, before crossing his leg over the other, picking up his glass once more. He shrugged, but the edges of his smirk were less defined now, he muttered, tossing back the last of his drink. "Maybe the Emberlaine got to her."

The doppelganger stared at him in disbelief, anger bubbling just beneath her skin, the urge to tell Stefan to continue with his attack was strong. "Don't say things like that."

"You guys are killing me." Damon leaned his head back in exasperation. "Don't tell me you actually believe that fairy tale bullshit."

"It's not bullshit." Bonnie snapped, "It's real. Shane said it's got the supernatural community on edge. There's been fires, unexplained deaths, trails of destruction, it's putting all of us at risk of exposure."

"Since when we were taking what the Nutty Professor said at face value. There is no Emberlaine. For all we know its just a newbie vamp with control issues, setting things on fire like a little psycho."

Elena sighed, rubbing her temple, "Whatever is it, I just hope it stays far away from here." Her eyes darted across the room, to where Stefan had once again slumped on the sofa, his gaze rooted firmly to the floor. Something in his posture, the not so subtle tightness in his jaw, how his hands were knotted together, suggested his mind wasn't in the room at all.

She walked over slowly, sitting beside him, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. "Do you think..." She hesitated, her tone delicate, unsure. "...Do you think Mia's with Klaus?

Stefan looked up, his expression raw as if he was barely holding himself together. "I don't know." He admitted quietly. "I just hope she's safe. And if she is with him...that's a certainty."

Elena watched him carefully, noting the way his voice dipped just slightly at the end, like it was almost painful to choke out. "You trust him with her?"

There was a long pause, silence stretching between them, then finally Stefan nodded once, slowly. "Klaus and I may be at odds, but if there's one thing we know about each other...it's that neither of us would never let anything happen to Mia."

His words hung in the air, final and true. Elena turned around to look at Bonnie, silently conveying her disbelief, she then rested her chin upon the couch cushion. "I miss her. It's been two weeks."

Before anyone else could respond, Damon interjected, his tone cutting. "Well, she doesn't seem too concerned about us, does she?"

Stefan's head snapped up, his eyes blazing with fury. "Do you ever shut the fuck up?" The words cracked through like a whip through the wound, silencing even Damon. He blinked, then smirked, pretending to read the book beside him.

Elena squeezed Stefan's shoulder in quiet support and stood, walking away to give him space. The room was quiet again as Matt and Bonnie followed, but Stefan's thoughts were yet to hush. He sat in stillness in contrast to his spiralling mind. Images of brown eyes staring back at him, the melody of sweet laughter echoing, memories of delicate intimacies. Moments he intended to have for a lifetime but now, he was unsure if he'd ever experience again.

He didn't know where she was, who she was with. Or whether she'd ever come back. But one question screamed above the rest, was she happy? And if so, would there be a time in which he could revel in it beside her?

~~~~

The moon hung low and swollen above the roofline of the bar, casting a pale sheen across the parking lot, illuminating twisted shadows that bled from the windows like spilled ink, stretching across the cracked asphalt in slow, creeping tendrils that seemed to breathe with the night's silence.

No music could be heard from outside, only the dull crackle of broken neon, the shriek of splintering wood and the sickening thud of flesh meeting flesh. The windows had been blacked out from the inside but muffled cries slipped through the cracks like a dying wind.

Inside the bar, the floor was a graveyard. Broken bodies lay in heaps, mangled and bloodied, some still twitching, others long gone. One man's torso had been caved in by repeated blows, another had been gutted with something jagged, pool cue splinters still lodged between his ribs.

In the center of it all, two men fought like wild dogs, not for sport but because they had to. They had no control, every movement too frantic, too desperate, to be free will. One lunged forward with a roar, grabbing a wooden stool and smashing it over the other's head. The crack was deafening, followed by a grunt as the body collapsed, blood gushing from the wound. His attacker stood frozen, chest heaving, hands trembling, face streaked with horror.

Against the bar, another lifeless figure was slumped backward over a stool, his head tilted at a grotesque angle. Above him, draped across the polished wood as though it were a chaise lounge, was a woman. Her teeth were buried in the man's neck, the blood draining into her mouth in slow, rhythmic pulls. Her eyes fluttered closed, not in ecstasy but apathy, as if she wasn't drinking for sustenance but rather simply because she could.

The door creaked open, heels tapping lightly across the bloodstained floor, "A little overzealous, don't you think?" Katherine sauntered forward, her expression unimpressed as she took in the carnage.

Mia pulled her mouth back from the man's throat, her lips red and glistening. Crimson streaked down her chin like honey, she didn't bother wiping it away. "The queen of overcompensating is tryna lecture me on moderation?" The older Pierce rolled her eyes at the response, the insults were something she'd become immune to in the last two weeks.

"You missed the tournament." Mia continued with a flick of her wrist toward the far corner of the bar, gesturing to the two dead bodies collapsed against the wall. "Ginger and Gaptooth decided to use pool cues as their weapon, Gaptooth won by stabbing Ginger in the spleen. Which, by the way isn't fatal, you can survive without a spleen, but our boy bled out in twenty seconds anyway. Then Gaptooth stabbed himself, dramatic resolution, five stars."

Her tone was eerily calm, each word as sharp and deliberate as a needle laced with venom. She turned slightly, swinging her legs over the edge of the bar and motioned to another body, glass protruding from its face. "And then there's Pervy, he was bothering some girl when I got here so Robbie used bottle shards.." She held up a fragment between two fingers, stained crimson, "...made him swallow them."

"Then he fought a couple more rounds and won" She gave a few claps, stroking the back of Robbie's neck. "We have our victor."

Katherine sighed deeply in annoyance at the repeated inconveniences she was facing since they'd left town together, crossing her arms, "What's the prize, he gets to live?"

Mia shrugged, stepping down from the bar in a sweep of black fabric, her heeled boots sounded a clack as she stepped over the limbs like rotting sticks and logs on the ground. "Well, I thought you could have him, help get that bitch look off your face."

She tilted a bottle of bourbon in her hand, letting the amber liquid pour out in a thin stream as she walked, leaving a trail behind her. Katherine watched her, jaw tight, not even looking at the sobbing man beside her when she snapped his neck in a flash. "You're drawing unnecessary attention. Not exactly a smart move for vampires on the run."

"Correction, you're on the run." Mia replied flatly as she pushed the bar door open, casting a glance over her shoulder while walking into the night. "You always are. Hiding from a hybrid prick who's not even looking for you. I'm not hiding from anyone."

She tossed the now empty bottle away, letting it crash onto the floor, glass exploding in the moonlight. From her pocket she pulled a lighter. Katherine's eyes narrowed, "You really have to do this everytime?"

Mia's fingers toyed with the wheel, "I have a reputation to uphold. Can't exactly be the Emberlaine without fire, now can I?" With a casual flick, she dropped the lighter and the trail ignited instantly, a ribbon of flame racing across the bourbon soaked concrete. The fire snaked its way beneath the door and the bar lit up like a funeral pyre.

It would've been far too much work to dispose of the bodies another way. The older Petrova sighed, a scowl creeping into her face as the heat washed over them. Mia, however, didn't flinch, her eyes stayed fixed on the flames, glassy but unblinking as the building began to roar with a blaze and smoke.

Her face was a cathedral, expertly crafted yet emptied of its saints, there was no serenity, no pride, only a hollow sanctity, as if with every blaze, the sacred relic of her soul was scorched into ash, the iron key to its chamber melted in the inferno.

After all, arsonists aren't drawn to flames for the light but for what the fire takes with it.

~~~~

The scuffs of Bonnie's shoes echoed through the empty town square as she stormed forward, her jaw clenched, hands shaking not from fear but from fury barely held beneath the surface. The afternoon sky was dull above her, the kind of gray that pressed down on your mood until you felt as bleak as it looked.

"Bonnie..." Behind her, the distinctive click of Rebekah's heels grew faster. "Bonnie Bennett, do not walk away from me when I am speaking to you." The blonde snapped, her voice slicing through the air, however there was desperation laced beneath the venom, just enough for it to tremble.

Bonnie halted so suddenly it caused the hem of her coat to flare, she spun on her heel, eyes blazing, "What do you want me to say, Rebekah?" She retorted, "You know how worried we've all been about Mia and you're just telling me now that you were the last person to speak to her."

"Might've. I said I might have been the last." Rebekah countered, breath catching in her throat, her posture stiffening but her eyes betrayed the guilt creeping in. "And so what if I was? I didn't say anything that would've made her take off. We had a tiff, a small argument...about the Elena situation, that's all."

The witch let out a humourless, hollow laugh, shaking her head in disbelief as her arms folded across her chest like a shield. "I love how easily you can diminish you killing Elena as a situation."

"Fine. Murder. Assassination. Evil psychotic plot, paint it however you want." Rebekah rebuked, her fingers twitching at her sides as she drew herself up, defensive, cornered. "But none of that changes how you've been desperately searching for a way out of this, to walk away from what we have."

"Because you keep hurting my friends!" Bonnie exploded, her voice cracked, exposing the rawness beneath.

"Then stop being friends with prats who get in my way!" The blonde hit back, just as quick, the cruelty slipping out before she could filter it. And then the regret was there, written across her face.

Bonnie stared at her for a long, aching moment, her breathing uneven, as though her chest were too small to hold the weight it was expected to carry. "You know....maybe this was inevitable." She said softly and it was that gentleness that caused more agony than a yell could, as if she was surrendering to fate. "Maybe we were just kidding ourselves thinking this could work....that we could."

Rebekah's world faltered, her eyes widened, almost bulging like she'd been punched in the chest, as if something foundational inside her was starting to give way. She blinked, lips parting, a thousand deflections rising in her throat, but none of them made it past her tongue.

"No.."She breathed, "No, you don't mean that. You're just angry. You can have space if that's what you want, I'll give you all the space you need but don't...Bonnie please. Don't just end this."

The Bennett's eyes glistened, but she refused to let the tears fall. "There's just too much going on right now." She spoke matter of factly, her voice barely carrying. "Mia's gone, Elena almost died and I can't." Bonnie exhaled sharply, like she was trying to push the ache out her ribs. "I just don't have any room for a relationship....or whatever this was."

Rebekah said nothing. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed the pain she refused to show. Two of the people she cared for the most had slipped out her grasp in less than a fortnight, they'd rebuffed her affections, making it clear they were better off without her.

Her face stilled into something practiced, something brittle. "Fine. Perhaps you're right....perhaps it was only a matter of time before one of us saw sense." She gave a bitter, empty smile. "Thank you for saving me the trouble." And just like that, the blonde turned, arms swishing as she stormed off. Bonnie's lips scrunched up as she bit the inside of her cheek to restrain the flood of vulnerability that battered against the edges of her heart.

Then soft, warm fingers brushed her shoulder. She turned, expecting a last ditch plea from the Original. "I just told you, I'm not..." The witch started, her voice already taut but the words died in her throat when she saw the face before her.

"Zander?" She breathed, blinking, stunned.

He stood there with a quiet smile, dark eyes warm and familiar, hands in the pockets of his jacket. "Hey, long time." Before she could respond, he pulled her into a hug, she didn't stop him, instead her arms wrapped around him out of instinct. But in her mind, something was fractured.

It was as though she'd been dropped back into a scene of a film she'd long since left behind, only to find Zander frozen in a single frame, paused, untouched by time, unaware the story had already moved on without him.

~~~~

The boutique was lit in moody golden tones, dim chandeliers veiling warped shadows on the full length mirrors and velvet lined display tables. It wasn't the type of establishment that welcomed chaos, not with its spotless marble floors and high end products, and yet heels that had crushed many windpipes in the last fortnight had strutted through its doors.

Beneath the haze of amber light, Mia stood at the end of a clothing rack, fingers brushing over silk and lace as though searching for something that didn't exist on hangers. Her eyes were unreadable, dark hollows, rimmed with eyeliner and ennui.

A few paces behind her, Katherine lounged on a tufted chair, one leg crossed over the other and her stilettos propped lazily atop a footstool. She twirled a single curl around her finger like she was slowly strangling a thought that wouldn't die, but her eyes followed every flicker of movement Mia made across the room.

"Did you ever consider..." She started, her tone almost lazy with its condescension, "..that if you stopped going on random murder sprees, you wouldn't constantly need new clothes?"

Mia didn't even pause to think, she pulled a corseted top from the rack and flung it over her shoulder, her voice shot back, razor sharp and cold. "Did you ever consider shutting the fuck up?" It wasn't angry, just clinical, boredom wrapped in a snarl.

The words simply drafted off Katherine without an effective, she simply rolled her eyes, letting the curl fall back into place, the venom felt like water now. From the moment they'd left Mystic Falls this was all they did, shoot digs at each other and occasionally share silence when the sky grew too dark.

A sliver of her had foolishly hoped for something resembling camaraderie, some warped sisterhood forged in blood and shared experiences but Mia wasn't here for that. She was unravelling, and Katherine, with her practised detachment and eternal scowl, had become the unfortunate witness, the safety net.

Mia yanked a black silk top from the rack, inspecting it with the same scrutiny she might reserve for a fresh kill. Without a word, she tossed it to the boutique attendant trailing behind her with an armful of clothing, a human coat rack with trembling fingers and widened eyes.

From her throne of velvet Katherine tilted her head, "Is there a point to this trip?" She asked, her voice lilting with exaggerated boredom as she gestured lazily to their extravagant surroundings. "I don't see why we had to leave New York to come....here."

The younger vampire disappeared into one of the changing rooms, the curtain swishing sharply behind her. "There's no we." She called out flatly from inside. "There's me. And there's you following me around."

"Right..." Katherine's lips curved into something sour, taking a sip of the champagne next to her, "Because you'd have no problem getting around...with that shiny driver's license of yours."

Unfortunately she received no response to her remark so she continued. "I'm just saying all these random excursions aren't exactly helping...There are whispers among witches, they've been waiting to see if the attacks get more often and if they do....they're going to track down the Emberlaine...You keep burning everything you touch, eventually someone's gonna come sniffing for the smoke."

"God, witches are such a bore..." Mia scoffed, her voice light but void of humour, "You'd think they'd be up for a little fire considering how many they set trying to do basic spells." The dressing room curtain was whipped open and she stepped into view, wearing a dress of obsidian silk and lace, it clung to her like it'd be poured on.

The neckline plunged deep, exposing her collarbones and the swell of her chest like the hollow of a goblet waiting to be filled with blood, the hem kissed her upper thighs with reckless defiance, close to scandal. Her hair fell over her shoulders, straightened like dark ribbons, deceptively soft, yet still capable of winding tight enough to steal the wind from one's airways.

Her heeled boots stuck the polished floor as she moved toward the mirror, giving herself a once over, turning around to glance at the back with a smirk. I understand that hybrid creep, I'd be obsessed with this too.

Katherine tilted her head, arms folding across her chest, "You're not worried someone else is going to come looking for you?"

Mia didn't even blink, "What, like Klaus?" She replied, running a hand down her side to smooth the dress in place. "It took him ninety years to find me the first time. I'm not exactly trembling with anticipation."

The older Pierce rose from her chair, approaching her descendant who was still occupied leering at herself. "And the rest?"

Mia snorted softly and turned back to the racks, her voice edged with something both mocking and bored. "Your other boyfriends? No, not really worried about them. It's still funny to me how you got the quadruple combo, the full set, both Mikaelsons, both Salvatores. You should get a plaque or something, or like points they give at coffee shops the more you buy stuff."

She pulled another piece off the rack, something glittery, reserved for strobing lights and a dancefloor. "Rank them..." Katherine raised a brow at that demand. "Oh, come on." Mia glanced over, "You've had to have thought about it...Now, I've only had the bad brothers but I can still say without a doubt Damon is placed last. Too eager, rushed, like someone strapped a jackhammer to his hips."

At this, Katherine couldn't help but let out a laugh, shaking her head as she leaned against the railing. "For the record, I never slept with Klaus."

Mia arched an eyebrow and shrugged and cocked her head. "No?......Hm...Can't say you missed much. Just a whole lot of eye contact and whispered declarations, way too soul exposing for you."

She didn't wait for a response. Instead grabbed a pale purple shirt, long sleeved, modest, something that looked like it belonged in a small town wardrobe, and tossed it casually toward the other vampire. "You might as well get something while we're here."

Katherine stared at the shirt, sliding her fingers over the soft cotton, it couldn't have been further from her taste and that's when she understood. There was a reason Mia had chosen her to disappear with, not for companionship or trust. But because in the blur of her grief, in the echoing, hollow loss of Elena, Mia had grabbed onto the first thing that resembled her.

The Gilbert's appearance but none of her softness, the perfect stand in, because if she was able to look upon that face and feel nothing, then a further padlock was added to the cage holding her humanity at bay.

But the most unsettling part was that Mia hadn't known, not consciously, all instinct, no intention. As if the last wisp of her humanity had reached out and latched onto the decision to choose Katherine, a final act to ensure a way to bring herself back, if too far gone.

Only, it didn't work.

~~~~

The wind cut through the city as if it had a vendetta, whipping hair into eyes, tossing old flyers down the busy street, horns blared and people shouted over traffic. Mia walked ahead, her steps smooth and deliberate, the rhythmic click of her heels echoing like a metronome marking the tempo of her disinterest. Her phone was pressed to her ear as she listened to the person on the other side, "Okay...thanks." She hung up and slid it back into her purse in a single motion.

Behind her, Katherine slammed the car door shut, the clunk sharp in the afternoon air, she stalked up the pavement, as she approached with a swing in her hips and a sharpened brow. Her narrowed eyes traced the back of Mia's head, as though willing her to explain herself. "Who was that?" She asked, her voice flippant but with an edge of probing that lay deeper than intended.

Mia didn't slow down or glance back, "You don't seriously think I'm not keeping tabs on the idiots back there." She said coolly, devoid of warmth.

Katherine tilted her head as she walked in step with her descendant, "Because you care?"

"No." She responded flatly, already halfway to the entrance of the building, "To make sure none of them come after me." The way she'd spoke, detached, calculated, it wasn't self pity. It was survival, honed to a serrated edge.

The older Pierce let out an exhale that might've been amusement or irritation, it was hard to tell anymore, "What are we doing here?" She grimaced at the chipped signage and dusty windows. Without giving a reply, Mia pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The moment she crossed the threshold into the bar, the air changed. Inside, the lighting was low, amber tone, filtering through gritty sconces and worn lampshades. The place had been modernized, marginally but its bones were old. A few months ago, she had walked through the same doors and felt nothing. A vague sense of déjà vu, perhaps, an itch beneath the skin.

But now? She remembered everything, this very same bar, had once been Gloria's, a speakeasy. Mia had danced here, laughed, made promises and told untruths all within these walls. And like so much else, it had been taken from her, erased by Klaus and his carefully constructed version of love.

From behind the counter, a man stepped into view. His features were rugged, worn by age and loss, his hair streaked with grey but still thick and swept back. His eyes held the kind of tired warmth that only grief could teach and right now, they were fixed on Mia. "Was wonderin' when I'd see you back here." He set a polished glass down, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.

Mia's expression didn't twitch. "Hi Georgie." She said, the name tumbling from her lips without weight. There was a pause, long enough to be loaded with recognition, he could see it in her eyes, the clarity returned like a knife pulled free of flesh. 

"I'll be..." He muttered, eyes widening slightly. "You remember." The brunette nodded once, no warmth or smile, no spark, barely an acknowledgment. But before he could speak again, his gaze shifted, landing on Katherine, who was just stepping inside, her heels striking the hardwood. George's entire demeanor hardened, his voice dropped low but each syllable struck like a gavel. "She's not welcome here. Not after what she did to G."

"Right...your old witchy friend." Mia drawled with a roll of her eyes, then without glancing at the older vampire she ordered, "Get lost."

Katherine blinked, incredulous. "No, no way in hell. I've spent two weeks babysitting while you dragged me all around the country and now I'm disposable."

"No, you were disposable from the beginning." Mia jabbed and just as she was getting ready to fire more insults, George lifted a hand and flicked his wrist with unceremonious ease, there was a violent crack and Katherine's body crumpled to the ground in a heap, her spine twisted unnaturally. Mia looked down, entirely unaffected. "You realise she's gonna kill you for that." She said almost idly.

"She's welcome to try." George wiped his hands on a dishcloth and shrugged, "Stopped taking the herbs, figured it's my time to go. I never understood the obsession with immortality. I stuck around for G....but she's gone.

Mia stepped closer to the bar, dragging her finger along one table, picking up the dust as she'd done so. "She died months ago, why're you still here?"

"I figured Klaus would come to this senses one day." George answered quieter, but laced with a weariness that never quiet left his bones. "And you'd come back here, looking for answers."

"Answers?" Mia gave a hollow laugh. "What's complicated about it? I lived with two of the oldest vampires in existence, got murdered because of one, became a vampire. And then, instead of running like a sane person, I stayed. And even worse, I dated one of them, kissed the other."

"You loved him, you loved both of them." George said plainly, time had faded many memories for him but that was a fact still clear in his head, especially because of how much he had wished she didn't.

Mia met his gaze without blinking, as though she'd read his thoughts. "And you just hated that, didn't you?" She accused, "You ever wonder about how different things would've been if I'd chosen you instead? Can't say I haven't." Her eyes trailed down him, her gaze a slow, deliberate drawl. "Time has been very kind to you."

George didn't rise to it, his hands rested calmly on the counter but his eyes searched hers, looking for something, anything, that resembled the girl he had once known. But what he saw now was something colder, stripped bare of compassion. "You feeling okay?" He asked carefully.

"If you really think about it..." Mia moved to the bar and slid onto one of the stools, her body folding into the pose with elegance, she leaned forward, resting her elbow on the wood, her chin coming to lay upon her palm. "....me getting involved with the Mikaelsons was all your fault. You were the one who pointed me in their direction."

What she didn't know was that he didn't need reminding of that, for many years after their time in the twenties there wasn't a day that passed where he hasn't pondered on how he could've saved her from being entangled with them in the first place. His jaw tightened, "Which I'm guessing they still don't know."

The brunette smiled now, faintly, a glint of cruelty there now. "Could be funny to bring it up. Watch their pouty blues well up with betrayal." Then her tone dropped, all humour gone. "Anyway, I didn't come here to skip down memory lane." Her eyes darkened, predator calm, "I need you to do something for me."George furrowed his brows as Mia crossed her legs slowly, heel tapping against the bar rail.

"How accurate are your locator spells?"

~~~~

The desk sat nestled in the corner of the study, its antique oak surface scattered with sketching pencils, smudged eraser marks and a nearly finished charcoal drawing of snow draped peaks beyond the window. Klaus sat with his back straight, his wrist gliding in fluid strokes across the page, but his focus elsewhere. Every few moments, his eyes flicked to the phone lying beside the paper, waiting for it to light up, to buzz, to break the silence with a message or call from her.

Ever since he'd returned to his own body, jolting back into existence like a man resurfacing from a nightmare, his first question had been for her. Mia. And yet, none of them, not one of the friends she held so dear, could tell him where she'd gone. It was as if she'd evaporated, slipped between the cracks of the world without a trace. He'd searched every corner in Mystic Falls, interrogated every contact, even forced Bonnie to do a locator spell but nothing. Not even Elijah knew, the hybrid was torn on whether or not that was a good thing.

And then, as if summoned by obsession, he heard the click of heels echo down the hallway. It was delicate but distinct and he immediately recognised the rhythm. His head snapped up, just in time to see her.

Framed by the heavy doorway, Mia leaned against it like a hallucination dressed in black and lace, her figure was sleek, wrapped in darkness. "Hi Nik."

He rose at once, the chair scraping backward with sharp urgency, his body moved before his mind caught up. "Mia?" His voice held a crack of disbelief and something fiercer beneath it. "Where the hell have you been?" He moved to the center of the room, with an aching frustration but also the small breeze of relief that she was okay. "Do you have any idea how worried I-"

Mia cocked her head slightly, her expression cool, blank. "Okay, relax. I'm fine." She waved a hand with dismissive grace. "You really need to stop acting like I'm not a bloodsucking monster. What exactly do you think was going to happen to me? Your mom's gone, Alaric's dead...who's left to kidnap me?"

Klaus studied her, eyes narrowed, his stomach twinged with something unspoken. She looked different, not just in the lace or the darker makeup, nor the thigh high boots that clicked against the floor like war drums. It was in the way she stood, as if she didn't care if the ceiling caved in around her.

He stepped forward slowly, taking her in with cautious eyes. "Judging by your current attire, I think I can guess who your company has been for the last two weeks. Tell me, did you leave Katerina in the car?

The brunette's lips twitched, more amused than irritated. "Should I be jealous you can recognise other women's styles?" She mused, brushing past him, her perfume curling around him like smoke. Mia walked to the window and stood with her back to him, arms crossed loosely. "You know, when I saw you were in Alaska, my first thought was how random....but then I thought about it some more. Cold. Desolate. And even with all its grandeur, it's just a little shy of the real thing. Perfect for you, actually." She glanced back slightly, a cruel smirk curved. "Beat out by the little penguins."

Klaus's jaw tightened but he kept his voice smooth, "That's what you've been up to? Studying philosophy with a woman that couldn't tell you the first thing about conviction."

Mia's shoulders rose and fell with a deep mock sigh, "Can you blame me? With everything that's happened I'm surprised you didn't check me into a padded cell. Then again, you've always been better at lighting the fuse and walking away before you see what burns. Or watching the wreckage from a distance....or better yet, witnessing it all from someone else's body."

Her back was still turned away from him, leaving him unable to see her face but something in her voice was too even, too smooth, like polished marble that'd been placed on top to hide ruin. Klaus took another step forward, his throat suddenly dry. "You're angry. About Tyler. We can talk about it."

"What's there to talk about?" Mia started flatly, "I thought you were dead, but you weren't. I grieved for you like an idiot, stupidly cried but maybe..." Her voice dipped to fake wistfulness. "....maybe those weren't tears of pain. Maybe they were relief, joy that I didn't have to pretend to care about something that happened ninety years ago."

The words stabbed through him, but he didn't move nor flinch, he simply stared at her, trying to decipher what it was behind her words but it felt like listening to a melody played on an instrument out of tune. Something was wrong, her tone was mechanical, clinical, a recitation of a script rather than a conversation with meaning behind it. "Mia..." His voice lowered, "Look at me."

She didn't. Instead, she turned and began trailing her fingers along the edge of his bookshelf, "There he goes again, barking orders." She hummed, lilting, almost amused. "I gotta ask...did you choose Tyler because he's the physical representation of everything you want to be? I'm not talking about hybrid strength because you have that. I mean....he has respect. Friends. A mom who cares about him. Love....and he didn't have to sire any of it."

Klaus moved towards her once more, but she was already walking again, wandering aimlessly around the room. He shouted now, voiced cracking with something raw as he appeared right by her in a flash. "Look at me!"

And so she did, she turned. He saw it in an instant, the emptiness, the impossible stillness behind her eyes. That glint of disinterest wasn't out because of a grudge, it was just absence. There was no pain in her, no regret, no hesitation, just an eerie, cold clarity that turned his blood to ice.

"Did you enjoy it?" She asked, her voice syrupy with venom. "Feeling that love and affection for a day, even though it wasn't intended for you."

His breath faltered, his mouth opened and shut before the words came out, low and coarse with disbelief, "You've turned your humanity off."

Mia's lips curled into a languid smile, a twisted parody wearing her face. Her eyes, once so alive with emotional depth, now held nothing but a void, a glassy, unfeeling sheen that barely reflected the warm study light. "Ever the observant Nik." She said with faux praise, glinting with malice. "Well done."

Klaus's jaw clenched, his molars grinding behind closed lips. He'd seen this countless times, vampires who couldn't bear the flood of emotion that came with immortality, choosing to instead silence the noise, cut the cord and drift.

But Mia?
Mia, who burned with feeling, carved her every decision from love, fury, grief, she had been ruled by emotion, the physical representation that their species wasn't always the heinous beasts they were believed to be. And now she too had decided that it was better to be free falling than tethered to the bonds of humanity.

"Why have you done this?" He took a step forward, his voice low and deliberate as thought trying to sneak past the part that had buried herself. The concern in his voice was a blade he tried to dull, not wanting to antagonise her, but couldn't. "Why have you turned your humanity off?"

Mia turned slightly, pivoting with the elegance of a dancer, she moved towards the side table, grazing her finger along the curve of the globe, with a quick flick she'd sent it spinning. "The real question is...." She looked back at him over the shoulder, her tone, when it came, was laced with irony. "Why didn't I do it sooner?"

He blinked but she went on, stepping into a slant of light that poured in from the snow drenched mountains beyond the glass. "You know what I've felt for the past century?" She asked, not waiting for his answer, "A weight. This thick, constant heaviness that was stitched inside of me, and it didn't matter how much I drank or laughed or tried to ignore it, it was there, writhing under my skin, every second of everyday."

"And now..." She raised her hand, delicate fingers closing inwards with mock dramatics before flicking them once, as if brushing off water. "Poof. It's gone."

A silence followed, heavy and unnatural as he processed her words, the weight of understanding coiling like iron in his chest. "You can't possibly think this is better nor can you understand the danger of what you've done." He started, his voice barely containing the storm beneath it. "You, of all people, require your humanity. It's not a burden, Sweetheart. It's the very thing that sets you apart. That maddening empathy of yours, how you feel everything as if the world bleeds through you, that is not your weakness, it's what made you extraordinary."

Unfortunately to him, she didn't even blink, her gaze drifted past him, disinterested like he was nothing more than a piece of music she'd grown tired of listening to. "I gotta be honest.." She murmured, her tone low and lazy. "I stopped listening after You can't. Let's not use that phrase, Nik. Because it's not true. I can."

Klaus flinched, not visibly but inwardly as though each syllable nicked at something raw beneath the surface. Even with all her hostility the few months prior, he knew he'd rather take that a dozen more times than witness her self destruction in this way. "Look, I'll admit...when those bastards ambushed me and I saw you standing there, for a moment I thought...." He exhaled slowly, the memory bitter on his tongue. "I thought perhaps you were involved. Part of the plan for my demise. But then after....I saw you, your grief, how you mourned me. If that's why you've abandoned your emotions."

Before he could finish her laugh interrupted him, cruel, mocking and it rang through the study, surrounding him from every angle. Mia continued to cackle, it looked almost performative yet she persisted, covering her mouth as she did so.

Klaus stilled, his expression tightening. "You're laughing?Okay, carry on...but we both know you're not feeling a bloody thing so cut the theatrics."

Mia wandered lazily toward the shelf, lifting a leather bound book from it with an absent grace. She flipped it open, not even looking at the title. "Untrue, actually. There's a lot of misinformation about the whole humanity switch." She glanced at him sideways, her tone tilting into condescension. "Maybe it's different for everyone, but I do feel. Like right now? I feel disgust. Disgust and disbelief in my younger self...for ever letting you touch me." Her voice lowered flat and cruel. "But then again, I was just a stupid girl looking for safety and you were the mighty Original. Maybe that's why I played the role of a lover with so much dedication."

She turned away, her hair swaying behind her like a curtain closing on a stage. Klaus's breath hitched, "Wait-" His hand shot out to grab her wrist but it passed right through her as if slicing smoke. Her form flickered, like a light behind frosted glass, wavering just for a moment, before stabilizing again.

"Oh come on.." Mia tilted her head, an infuriating smirk playing on her lips, "You don't actually think I'd waste my time coming all the way to you...Pretty cool right? I can do what I want here but you can't touch me....I'm literally having a nap right now while this is happening."

The hybrid's eyes widened, his heart dropping. "Astral projection..." He muttered, his voice hoarse. "You've got a witch."

The Petrova gave a slow, mocking nod, smug satisfaction lifting her brows. "I've got a witch.." She echoed softly, "I've got someone who's managed to avoid being captured by you for centuries. And I've got the privilege of being me. So if anyone does come after me, all I have to do is make a call to the lovesick mutt who still can't help but raise hell to save sweet, precious Mia."

Klaus reached out for her hand, his eyes pleading despite the iron in his voice. "I would, in a heartbeat but as you've so eloquently pointed out you're no longer that same girl. I'm not your enemy. Whatever you're doing, whoever it is you're trying to become, there's still a way back. Sit with me, we can talk through this. We can fix this. Please."

Her lips twisted into something akin to amusement but it didn't reach her eyes. "You wanna talk?" She relayed, stepping toward him now, just enough for their chests to graze against each other's. "You know when you should've had that urge? When you first got into town, you could've talked then, Hey girl I just kidnapped, I know I'm in your history teacher's body right now and you're understandably traumatised, but I'm actually your ex boyfriend from the twenties and that's why you can't remember a goddamn thing..." She mimed a gasp, "Or maybe...Hi girl I keep bothering, I know you're pissed because I killed Jenna and made your friend binge drink blood and sink him into darkness but surprise! We used to fuck-"

"Alright, I get your point." Klaus snarled, his jaw tightening. "I should've told you. I left it too long but this...this won't help you. All you're doing is building more grief to bury yourself under and when you do decide to let it all back in and you will...you'll be drowning in it."

Mia didn't react, instead she traced a finger on the back of his palm, cruelly teasing. "See that's the thing, Nik.." Her voice dropped to a whisper, venomously calm. "I have no intention of turning it back on." Klaus yanked his hand away, realising what it was she was attempting. "Why would I? So I can go back to being the sponge?"

"Sponge?" Klaus echoed, confused.

"Yup." She continued dryly, perching herself upon the edge of his desk. "The one everyone spills their trauma on, their heartbreak, their death, their anger and I just....soak it up. Absorb it, hold it...carry it." Her eyes narrowed, crossing her leg over the other, the hem of her dress lifting slightly. "And you know what happens to a sponge when it's full and no one relieves the burden from it....It rots."

The hybrid exhaled through his nose, trying to contain the frustration bubbling just under the surface. "Perhaps your helpful witch and dear Katerina can help you come up with better metaphors."

Mia smirked at his attempt to bother her, she slid off the desk, making her way back over to him. "And perhaps you can spend this time finding another girl to ruin. I doubt you've matured much in the last ninety years to escape your pattern."

"I never tried to ruin you." Klaus snapped, his voice rising. "All I wanted was to protect you, in every way I could, even when you hated me for it. Come back to yourself Mia and I swear I will hold the agony at bay, I won't let it consume you."

Her face hardened at his vow, "I would rather be dead than trapped in my old life again...So here's a warning, pass it on to those Mystic Falls hicks. If they come for me, the first thing I'll do is take off my daylight ring and let them watch me burn. And not one of them will be able to stop it. Don't follow me."

Klaus's face paled slightly, his teeth gritted as he breathed out his next words. "Do you seriously believe there is a corner on this earth that you can run to that I won't reach?"

"No.." Mia answered, her voice calm and almost jabbing in its clarity. "I know exactly what you're capable of. I turned off my humanity, not my brain. Which is why I extend the same warning to you, come for me and I kill myself. And knowing you, you'd probably collect the ashes and wear them around your neck in a mourning locket."

Her image began to flicker again, the projection pulling back like a tide from shore, she looked up at him, her eyes glassy and eerily hollow, still stunning even in their detachment, still with the ability to get him to do anything she desired.

"Now.." She whispered, voice suddenly thick with suggestion. "I'm going to go back to my witch and thank him properly." She smirked as she lifted her chin, her gaze travelling down his face, resting on his lips. "And you know just how well I show appreciation."

Klaus's hands lifted to seize her by the arms but she was gone before they'd even made contact. The air where she had stood felt colder as he stood there, staring at the space that had just held the girl he believed to be his everything.

And then, in his usual manner, turned suddenly as the rage ignited in his chest and hurled the nearest glass across the room. It shattered against the stone wall, the sound echoing in the silence like the final shot of war. He stood there, breathing heavily, eyes glassy, fists clenched and all he could see was the empty brown eyes that had just sunk into his.

Klaus's attention drifted to the open book she'd left behind, resting on the desk. He picked it up, fingers brushing the cover, searching foolishly for some lingering warmth where her hands had been. The hybrid glanced at the title, The Last Song Of Orpheus. He scoffed under his breath, believing it was a deliberate attempt to get under his skin.

His own lover had been dragged to hell and he, left above, was the one responsible to retrieve her but he wouldn't make the same mistake of looking back, not as he'd done for the previous months, as it was that mistake that had caused her to be descended deeper into hell.

It was his curse and his vow to follow her into the abyss, for only the one who once held her heart could ever hope to awaken it again.

~~~~

The backroom was dim, the overhead bulb flickering above a rusted fan that no longer spun. Dust clung to the corners of the ceiling and blood, darker than it should've been, dried in streaks across the cement floor. George stood near the sink, wiping a crimson trail from beneath his nose, his expression drawn tight with weariness. His broad shoulders sagged under his worn shirt, sweat dampening the fabric.

Mia sat back atop a table cluttered with jars and talismans, her fingers idly twirling a bone charm between them. Her face was blank, expression untouched by anything resembling concern. Her voice, when it came, was dry and amused. "You'd think an old relic witch would be used to a tiny spell like that."

George exhaled through his nose, folding the bloodied cloth and tossing it onto the counter, "A few months ago, it wouldn't have even given me goosebumps." He braced his hands on the edge of the sink, "But like I said....I stopped taking the herbs. Time's catching up with my body."

The Petrova slid off the table in a single smooth motion, her shoes clicking faintly as she landed. "Bummer." She brushed off a piece of lint from the top of her boot, "Anyway...good luck with fossilisation. And thanks for the spell."

But George didn't move, he stood still, shoulders squared as he looked at her through the mirror, voice gentler now, even cautious. "I know your humanity is off." She didn't respond, not directly but her body stilled slightly as she had approached the door. The man took a step closer, "Are we gonna ignore the real reason you're here? Because it wasn't for the spell. You coulda gotten a witch from anywhere?"

Mia let the silence linger for a moment too long before, turning around, delivering her response with searing sarcasm. "Is this the part where I confess my undying love for you?" Her lips twisted into something cruel and deliberate as she leaned against the wall, her voice lilting with a mocking sweetness. "Oh, Georgie...I regret choosing the mean old Original instead of the..." She tilted her head sardonically. "...soft dick doormat with the spine of a paperclip and charisma of a wet dishcloth."

The jab landed exactly where she wanted it to, George's jaw twitched but he didn't look away, "I'm not gonna stand here and pretend Klaus was good for you. I thought he was wrong then and I think it now....But you didn't just choose him because you wanted protection....You chose him because you loved him, you felt something real. And the woman I knew back then...the one who teared up when she saw strangers cry, the one who forced herself to sit in rooms she hated just to make others feel welcome....she'd be terrified of who she's become now.....I'm gonna gander a guess and say you're behind all those fires too."

Her expression didn't falter before she let out a breath that almost resembled a laugh but it was too hollow to be real. "That woman you speak so fondly of? She was an idiot. She was an eighteen, nineteen year old girl who'd spent most of her life locked away and didn't know a damn thing about the world." Mia stepped forward now, her voice ice. "She was naïve, trusting and you know what that got her? Assaulted, then killed.....then raped."

George froze, his hand dropped to his side, he'd known, of course he had. He'd heard about the aftermath, what she couldn't remember but one thing everyone was aware of, was that the men who'd killed her, wouldn't have just left there before guaranteeing themselves a spot in hell. And now hearing it spoken aloud, words voiced with such detachment, it made his stomach turn.

"And you know why it's easy to talk about that?" She continued, tone even and unfeeling. "Not because I flipped the switch, but because Klaus compelled the fear out of me after it happened. A monster had to erase my trauma from me just so I could function again....That doesn't make me brave, George. It made me dependent, that girl didn't die when she turned off her humanity...she'd already been dead ninety years, the second the man she loved compelled her to forget him and left her alone."

She shook her head slowly, "So forgive me if I'm not that girl anymore and if you think what I'm doing is an insult to her...But that's the beauty of it. I don't fucking care."

And with that she turned to walk, her heel pivoting against the tile but his voice stopped her. "You do care." She halted her back to him and George's voice softened, "That's why you're here. Because like you said...that girl died ninety years ago and that's the problem isn't it? You've spent the last century in a limbo, floating, playing a role. You came back here because you think this place, this town was last where you were truly yourself. Your humanity's off, but you're still searching for that."

Mia turned slowly, her eyes sharpening. "What is it about bartenders that makes them think they're psychologists?" Her voice dripped venom. "The problem, Georgie, is that I rejected your sorry ass ninety years ago and you're the one hung up on the past. I mean...why else have you stayed alone all these years....Unless you and Gloria decided that since no one wanted the pair of you, you might've as well shacked up together....would be still be weird though, considering you called her your sister...but I guess loneliness can do crazy things...Maybe she got herself killed on purpose to get away from you.

George didn't flinch. "Keep 'em coming. You say you've changed but so have I. I'm not that kid that cowers away, or backs off when someone warns him away."

It was then she began to circle him, "Klaus told you to stay away from me because he saw what I was too blind to see. That not only are you a vanilla prick as limp as that flower you once gave me...but you are incredibly, entirely unremarkable...and I would've got bored of you in a week. But like you said, I was a people pleaser, I would've been stuck with you my entire life, because I didn't want to hurt your feelings."

The witch chuckled but it didn't reach his eyes. "Let's not pretend you weren't still like that not too long ago. Why else would you have stuck around someone like Damon Salvatore, who in the small time I encountered him, didn't even show you basic respect, only used you to provoke Klaus."

Mia just stared as vacant as a ghost as he continued. "You're not even trying anymore, it's like you're still floating. And you say the good in you died ninety years ago, the trust, softness, we both know that's a lie. Because just a few months back you were still that, doing what you could to help a friend."

He tilted his head now, "How is Stefan, remember when you used to hate him? How'd you get over that if not for love?"

She said nothing, her gaze didn't flicker or narrow, she stood in stillness, utterly untouched by the windstorm George believed he was stirring in her. Then, quietly, her voice slipped through the silence. "How's Tommy?" That stopped him, his expression faltered, a smirk stretched on her lips as his gaze fell to the floor. "You ever find out what happened to him? Your best friend....just gone."

George's jaw tightened, he gave the faintest nod, acknowledging the burn and letting the bitterness sting inside his mouth. Still, he pressed on, voice lower, almost reverent in its grief. "I used to love you, like I told you then...you made everything better and I refuse to believe that changed when Klaus left you.

And then as if a stone had been dropped into his waters, the image of him rippled, only momentarily, Mia's brows furrowed as she caught it but he persisted. "And no, I don't think you would've stayed that way even if you had chosen me. But we never got to find out, because of him. Klaus did what he did because, more than anything, he loved control, it was what he craved."

Now he looked at her, his eyes burning into hers. "And you? All this time what you've really been doing since flipping the switch is denying the one thing you want more than anything. What you crave, ache for." Mia cocked her head just as his voice lowered. "You want to be de-"

His words were never completed. In a blink she was in front of him and her hand was inside of his chest, blood spilling from his mouth in a sudden wet gurgle. His eyes widened, horrified and betrayed as her fingers tightened around the trembling organ within him. She ripped it out with a slick, wet snap. The force sent his body falling downwards, lifeless before it even hit the ground.

Mia stared down at the pulsing heart in her hand, watching it stutter once before letting it drop with a dull thud to the floorboards, not noticing the dried blood on her skin. Behind her a voice hummed, "No loose ends." The brunette turned slowly to find Katherine leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, "I'm proud. Maybe you are a Pierce after all."

Her smile wasn't reciprocated, instead Mia glared at her, "Have a nice nap?" She walked past without another word, her shoulder slamming into Katherine's on the way. The jolt was deliberate, jarring. The older Pierce stood still, watching her go, her expression dulling. Her gaze flickered to the body on the ground, that appeared to have been dead for longer than a few seconds, and then a piece of paper sticking out from George's pocket, she'd been listening in for a few minutes before entering and was now confused.

If he was dead, who had Mia been speaking to before that?

~~~~

The heavy doors of the Salvatore house creaked closed behind the pair, the evening wind falling silent in their way. Elena stepped through the foyer first, her shoulders hunched inward with something between embarrassment and frustration. Her hand instinctively rose to her mouth, wiping at the corner as though she could erase the traces of her failure with a few swift swipes.

The quiet between her and Stefan was heavy, uncomfortable, a mutual fatigue neither knew how to shake. "I'm sorry it didn't work." She muttered, her voice barely above a whisper as she moved toward the sitting room. "I don't get it, I just can't keep that stuff down. No matter how hard I try."

Stefan followed at a careful distance, his hands stuffed into his pockets of his jackets as if finding something to anchor himself. "It was just an option." He told her gently, "Don't worry about it. We can keep trying with the blood bags."

The doppelganger sighed, dragging her fingers through her hair as she sank down onto the edge of the couch, "Last time I had no luck with those either." She stared at her hands, fidgeting with a loose thread on her sleeve. "I just...I hate using Matt, like he's not even a person, just a juicebox."

Stefan sat across from her his tone soft but steady. "He understands it's important...and it's you. I don't think he'd do it for anyone else."

Elena hesitated, her eyes lifting up toward him. "He'd do it for Mia." The name landed like a drop of ink in water, spreading through the space between them with quiet ache. Stefan's mouth curled slightly at the corners first, the memory of Mia warm in his chest, but the smile was fleeting. The emptiness left behind made it worse.

"I can't think of anyone who would deny Mia anything." He admitted, his voice had a rasp to it, as though the words caught in his throat before they made it out."

The Gilbert girl watched him for a long moment then sighed, "I just...I can't stop thinking about if she's with Klaus." Her voice was filled with concern, "After everything he's done to her. I mean, you were there in Chicago, you saw it firsthand."

Stefan's brow furrowed slightly as though the memory unsettled him in ways he'd spent the past few months examining. "As much as I hate to admit it, and trust me I do hate to admit this..." He started then paused, looking beyond her, "What I saw first hand...was two vampires in love, the kinda love that I've never witnessed again since then...Klaus was still Klaus, manipulative, ruthless, but not with her. Not then."

Elena's lips parted as she listened but he didn't stop, "I want her to be happy." He continued slowly as if it physically pained him to say, "And if that means she's with him then..."

Her expression dimmed, mouth opening as if to protest but then she caught the way Stefan was looking away, as if it he'd dared to speak more, something in him might crack open. She swallowed the rest of her sentence and reshaped it in a gentler way, "But would it make her happy in the long run?" Her voice was quieter now, then she shook her head. "It's not like her to just take off without telling us. She doesn't even know I'm alive."

Before Stefan could reply, the door creaked again and Matt stepped in, holding his phone to his ear with one hand and looking more bewildered than usual. "Klaus is back." He announced, swinging the door shut behind him. "He's got Tyler on house arrest to protect him from the hunter."

Stefan shot out his seat, his body tensing instantly, "And Mia?"

Tyler spoke from the phone which was now on speaker, "Nope, she's not with him, and with the way he was asking me where she was I'm guessing he last saw her when we did...well you guys, I was busy being used as a vessel...But he said..." There was a moment of silence, Matt looked at his phone to check if the call was still going before they heard a swallow. "He said Mia turned her humanity off."

Elena's entire face changed in an instant, her stomach dropped, brows pulled tight, "What?" Her hands moved to her hair as she began to pace around the room. "Why would she do that?"

Stefan's chest rose with a breath but he didn't speak right away. His thoughts were already spiralling rapidly, already connecting the dots in places he didn't want them to, he sunk back down to the couch, dread filling his entire body. "She thought you were dead..."

"She thought I was dead." Elena's repeated, her voice wavering, her eyes glossy. She sat back down, attempting to compose herself, "We just need to find her, bring her back. She won't be alone. Even if her humanity's off...Mia can't stand being alone."

"If she can't feel anything, how much is she gonna care about loneliness?" Matt crossed his arms, "And if she wasn't with Klaus then who the hell is she with?"

Stefan's eyes narrowed and for a moment, he didn't answer. He stared at the floor, brow burrowed deep in thought, then slowly reached for his phone. There was only one name that came to mind, only one person who made sense. Someone that Mia could only tolerate with her emotions off, and would never turn to otherwise. It was a sickening thought but a logical one.

Mia wanted to stay hidden from everyone, who better to team up with than the vampire that had mastered evasion.

~~~~

The doorknob gave a pathetic creak before snapping off clean in Mia's grip. Her expression remained unchanged as the splintered brass clattered to the floor, a sound lost beneath the quiet groan of the apartment door swinging open. She stepped inside slowly, her shoes echoing across the hardwood like an open, the silence swallowing the space in a way it hadn't in nearly a century.

This wasn't just any building. It was home, or it had been. The upper floor apartment Klaus had insisted on taking despite Rebekah arguing they'd be better off somewhere less conspicuous. The place where they'd lived like gods above the city, tucked away from mortal eyes but fully immersed in the decadence of the time. The velvet wallpaper was still half intact, faded now and torn in places, dulled by time and air and solitude. Her eyes scanned the space as if watching ghosts of herself drift by.

The soft crackle of the gramophone needle met the hush of the evening like an exhale. In the heart of their gilded apartment, far above the restless stress of the Chicago, the parlour flickered in the buttery glow of gaslight sconces and the distant lull of jazz. Velvet curtains framed the windows, casting long shadows across the lacquered wood and somewhere just behind the music, the city lived and breathed and burned. But not here.

In this room, the world narrowed to two figures.

Klaus reclined with sophisticated indifference on the chaise lounge, one leg crossed over the other, a crystal glass of bourbon untouched on the table. And beside him sat Mia, she tilted her head, strands of dark hair falling to kiss her cheek as she narrowed her eyes at him. "I do not appreciate you making fun of my last name, Nik." She scolded slightly, though still there was warmth threaded into each syllable. "Names are very personal and not something to be taunted."

The Original turned his head to look at her, his mouth curled in the beginnings of smirk. "I'm not taunting you, Sweetheart." He replied in that familiar, teasing lilt. "Nor am I making fun. All I said was that it doesn't make sense. Peterson..." He let the word linger in the air, dry and amused. "Was your father named Peter?"

"I've never met him." Mia responded quietly, smoothing her dress down against her knees. "But I'm assuming not."

"Well." Klaus murmured, shifting his position as he spoke. "Now women take their husband's.....but back in my day, your surname was drawn from your father's first name. Take mine for example. Mikael....son. Son of Mikael." His words trailed off, for the briefest second, his expression faltered, lips parting as a strange, distant melancholy washed over his face like a shadow cast by candlelight. "Sometimes, I wonder why I even kept that name." He said, almost to himself.

Mia turned toward him fully now, her brow furrowed with quiet concern. She reached over and placed her hand gently atop his, thumb brushing softly along the back of his palm. Klaus looked down at her fingers, then up at her face. The corner of his mouth lifted, though the sorrow didn't quite finish.

His hand curled around her ankle and with a sudden tug, he pulled her toward him, resting her legs across his lap until she was almost sat on his thighs, his other hand lay possessively on her calf. "So if your father wasn't named Peter..." He continued, leaning in until his nose nearly touched hers. "...Then the name Peterson doesn't quite suit you."

The Petrova laughed gently, ducking her head to avoid his gaze. "Well, I can't exactly change it.." She then looked up at him, the pearls at her throat catching the light as they shifted against her skin. "What would I even change it to?"

Klaus lifted his hand and brushed his knuckles against the pendant nestles at her collarbone, a pale, iridescent locket carved with a single ornate letter. M. A gift he'd given on her birthday. She had never questioned the engraving, assuming it was for Mia. "I have a suggestion..." He whispered, dragging his thumb along the side of her neck.

Mia looked at him, her face puzzled. She opened her mouth to respond only for the front door to be swung open with a clatter, Stefan stepped in, one foot still in the hallway, looking almost sheepish, only just. "Hey.. You guys got that Bordeaux? Rebekah says she left it here."

The Mikaelson man scowled, his entire posture straightening with annoyance. "She didn't leave it here. It's here because I bought it."

"When have you ever bought anything?" Mia teased, she stood up, smoothing her dress and moved toward the sideboard. She knelt down beside it, searching through the drawers. As she did, Klaus's gaze trailed her every movement, still in silent disbelief that she was all his. Stefan too, caught himself staring, though his glance was fleeting, quickly cast down when Klaus turned toward him."

"Got it..." She rose and walked to the door, holding the bottle out to the Salvatore. As he took it, their fingers brushed, barely but enough to freeze them both in place for a breath. Mia glanced up, startled by the weight in his eyes.

Stefan looked at her, something heavy flickering behind his gaze, that with just one sigh could come tumbling down, until Klaus's voice sliced through the moment. "Is that all?"

The Salvatore blinked, stepping back. "That's it.." He said quickly and was gone as briskly as he first came in.

Mia remained staring at the now shut door, lost in some quiet pocket of thought. Then arms wrapped around her waist, drawing her back against a solid chest. She didn't flinch, she never did with him. Klaus's breath was warm against her cheek as he murmured. "Do you think Rebekah knows he couldn't give a damn about her?"

"Don't be horrid." She replied, still looking ahead, her voice lacked conviction. "He's your friend."

Klaus spun her around to face him, his hands firmly on her hips, thumbs brushing against them. "He's not my friend."

The Petrova sighed and looped her arms around his neck. "Why are you so intent on being an...an arse." Her lips curved as Klaus arched a brow in amusement. "..to everyone but me?"

He gave a soft laugh and leaned in, forehead resting against hers. "Because I prefer to be selective in my decency, keep the expectations low. I've never been generous with kindness. But you..." A small kiss was peppered on the tip of her nose. "...With you, it isn't restraint I struggle with, it's the ache of wanting to give you everything, even pieces of me I swore no one would ever touch..."

His head turned to the side, and he kissed her arm, slow and reverent and they began to sway, no real rhythm, just two bodies in quiet orbit to the music playing from the gramophone. "You can have as many friends as you like, so long as I remain your favourite person."

"Rebekah will fight you for a spot on that pedestal." Mia laughed softly, bringing one hand down to hold his.

Klaus smirked, pulling her in tighter. "Let her. I'd wage wars just to keep you. Fight demons, witches, the devil himself, if it meant your heart stayed with me. Your hand in mine." He opened his hand, splaying hers in the process and traced a finger down her palm. "As long as you love me."

Mia looked up at him, her eyes shining with something soft and unguarded, almost emotional about how much love someone could hold for her. "More than anything, Nik."

Their lips met in a kiss that was gentle at first as though sealing the subtle vow they'd just made. That was before Klaus's hands slid down, gripping her thighs and lifting her into his arms. Mia gave a surprised laugh and he smiled at the sound, laying her down onto the velvet of the sofa.

He hovered above her, drinking in the sight as if her face might vanish if he blinked too long. "I know I don't deserve you, Sweetheart." He whispered, "In fact, I don't believe anyone does. You're far too good. A heart like yours..." He faltered, "It's not just kind, Mia. It's radiant. You feel for others before they speak, forgive them before they can even blurt out an apology. You love with every piece of yourself...and you have taught me to do the same. Never change."

Mia reached up, fingers threading through the back of his head, caressing the nape of his neck, "Would you still love me if I changed, "She asked softly, "If I became...mean."

Klaus chuckled, lowering his head to her throat, "Mean?" He repeated against her skin, "you could be cruel, my love." He lifted himself once more to gaze into her eyes as he spoke, to reaffirm his words. "Slaughter cities and salt the earth behind you. And I would adore you. But if you ever strayed too far from yourself...in a way I believe would hurt you...if the world ever twisted you, then I'd find you. I'd bring you back, no matter what it took."

"Promise me." She whispered, cupping his face, bringing him in closer.

The Mikaelson captured her lips in a gentle kiss, sighing deeply as he felt her relax against him. He pulled away looking reverent, sincere. "I swear to you." Mia's dimples deepened as she smiled, her hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, undoing the top one, then the next. Klaus's fingers slipped beneath the hem of her dress, hooking around the edge of her tights before slowly pulling them down.

And the rest of the world fell away.

It had all happened, here. And she'd forgotten it all.

She wasn't sure why she'd come. Perhaps it was a test, of her strength and resolve. Or maybe it was punishment, a sick masochistic dare to see whether anything could still make her flinch.

Her hand pulled down the handle of the bedroom. The smell was different now, stale, like forgotten perfume and age, but the shape of the room was unchanged. Her gaze rested on the windowsill where Klaus sketched in the early mornings. And then the bed where he'd once knelt, gently wiping away the blood from her face with a soft towel as she sobbed, having just taken a life because of her deep hunger.

Her gaze slipped through the open door of the bathroom, landing on the bath where they'd often spend evenings lost in each other's embrace. The memories tried to claw their way up from the grave, something intimate and soft but she blinked and it vanished.

It had all happened, here. And she'd forgotten it all.

With sudden violence, she slammed the door shut. The jolt sent a framed picture topping to the floor somewhere inside but she didn't look back. A dark glisten streaked the floor behind her, a trail poured in silence as she moved.

However she wasn't done, she crossed the hallway, her heels sharp against the cracked marble and moved to the door beside it, Stefan's old apartment. She'd never been inside it in the twenties, there hadn't been any reason to. But Klaus had once told her about it in passing, probably to shock her, or to diminish Stefan in her eyes. Something about a ritual.

She stepped inside, it was colder here, as if the walls had never felt the love of those who inhabited it, as if no one had ever laughed there. The room was almost empty, save for a few dusty boxes and decaying furniture but she didn't pause for any of it, instead she walked straight to the closet.

Inside, carved with messy precision, were names. Hundreds of them, etched into the wall like a gravestone mural. The ink was dry and black, some names bolder than others written in hands more erratic and wild. Mia stared at them, at the lives Stefan, no, the Ripper, had taken. There was something disquieting about their sheer number. Each one once a person, now a tally mark.

She reached onto the shelf and retrieved a small iron nail. Without hesitation, she bent down and carved two more names into the wall. George.

Then Mia.

The lines cut deep, splintering the grain. There was no artistry to it, no mourning. Just a brutal performance. She left the nail where it lay and turned, leaving the room as she left a trail behind. She didn't look back as she walked down the stairwell and out onto the street.

The night air was thick, the faint orange hue of distant smoke, painting the skyline above them like a warning. Katherine was waiting outside, pacing slowly, phone pressed to her ear, the other hand tapping the car hood with idle tension. The faint glimmer of red above caught her irises as the bar continued to burn several blocks away. Mia approached, her stride sharp and unwavering. "Who are you talking to?"

Katherine glanced sideways, slipping the phone back into her jacket pocket. "You're not the only ones with informants." She replied smoothly, brushing a curl off her shoulder. "Klaus is back in Mystic Falls."

Mia didn't pause or blink. "Sucks for them." She murmured then pulled out a matchbook from her jacket and struck one. The flicker of flame danced across her face like a devil's smile and she dropped it without ceremony. The bourbon trail caught with an almost theatrical roar.

It lit like a ribbon being pulled into hell, spinning flames up the old structure of the building. Fire leapt, greedily climbing the exterior, swallowing brick and mortar, licking at the windows until the entire being began to glow, like a monument to something once holy, now desecrated.

It wasn't just about destruction. It was an eradication. An execution of every soft memory, each fragile moment. Every reason she'd once had to stay true to herself. It all needed to be annihilated.

Katherine's gaze lingered on her, half suspicious, half awed. The fire reflected in Mia's eyes glowing like hell had taken up residence behind her irises. Her expression didn't shift once. "Won't Klaus find out about this?" She asked, her voice lighter than it should've been, laced with careful intrigue, noticing the light sheen on her descendant's skin.

Mia tilted her head, her tone almost deadpan. "That's the point." Then without another word, she turned on her heel and headed toward the car. A roofless, glossy black, sleek as sin vehicle. The brunette slid into the passenger seat, in the side mirror, the building was engulfed now, an inferno that lit up the street like a war zone. She didn't look away, not even when the roof began to collapse inward.

Katherine climbed into the driver's seat and adjusted the rear mirror. "Where to?"

Mia kept her gaze on the flames in the glass, her voice came out smooth, low, the hint of a smirk playing at her lips but never reaching her eyes. "All this heat's got me thirsty...Let's get a drink....Or twenty."

And with the echoes of sirens growing distant behind them, they sped into the dark. The last evidence from Mia's life in Chicago almost crumbling to the ground.

~~~~

The club was a shrine to vice, bassline pulsing like a heartbeat that had forgotten its rhythm. Bodies blurred into one another beneath the blinding flash of strobe lights, flashes of skin or sweat, of open mouths and closed eyes. In the VIP lounge, separated by velvet ropes and human pretense, it was quieter, but only just.

Mia was perched like royalty on a makeshift throne, legs draped over the lap of a man whose name she hadn't asked, or if she had she didn't remember. His shirt button was undone, collar soaked in red, his head slack against the booth's backrest as she drank lazily from his throat. One hand wrapped around a crystal glass of bourbon, the other curled against his jaw, angling it the way she would with a champagne saucer.

Beside her, Katherine mirrored the pose with a different man. Her movements were less casual, more calculated, as though she still had something to prove. The moment her fangs retracted, she glanced over, eyes lingering on Mia's face, on the void behind her expression

"Who were you talking to at that old apartment?" She asked, dabbing a bloodstain from her lip with a cocktail napkin.

Mia exhaled and rolled her neck like she'd just been asked something boring. She pulled away from the man without ceremony, letting his lifeless body slump from the booth to the polished floor. The thud was masked by the throbs of synths and laughter. "I wasn't talking to anybody." The brunette said flatly, licking the tip of her finger to wipe a speck of blood from it. "I was there for a minute."

Katherine blinked, her brows furrowing. "You were there for ten."

But Mia wasn't listening, or most likely pretending not to. She stood, as effortless and liquid as crimson in water and held her hand out toward the dance floor. A woman, bare shouldered, glitter eyed, caught the invitation and crossed the velvet boundary like a moth drawn in by an inferno. Mia pulled her close, sliding one hand to the small of her back, the other hand resting possessively on her waist. They began to dance, swaying in time with the heavy rhythm but the Petrova's eyes were glassed over.

"It's normal to lose track of time when you overindulge on blood...but you were talking to yourself and at the bar yesterday." Katherine stood up, her heels clicking once against the floor, she walked toward them, every word measured with the effort of someone already used to being ignored. "I'm just saying, maybe it's time to slow down....Elena's alive. Klaus is back. What do you even have to run from anymore?"

Still, no reaction, Mia's hips kept swaying, her gaze trailing somewhere just beyond the woman's shoulder like she was looking through her. Katherine stepped closer, her voice urgent now. "I'm not saying you have to go back. We both know what a dead end that town is. But just...flip it back on. We could stick together, survive together."

At that, the younger Petrova stopped dancing, she pulled back from the woman with feline grace and turned to face Katherine fully. Her expression twisted, not with rage or sadness but something far more cutting. "You are so pathetic." She started, her voice was calm yet poisonous. "I don't want to play happy families. I don't want to do the birthdays or girl trips."

Katherine's face stiffened, almost scrunching inwards to a scowl as her own words were relayed back to her. "It's a fantasy." Mia added, each word sharpened to a stake. "And it's one you need to get over."

She didn't wait for a response, instead turned and walked away, leaving the other vampire in her place, dazed and watching. Katherine tried to follow Mia's retreat with her eyes but something in her expression faltered, she waved a hand to dismiss Mia's dancing partner then stayed rooted where she stood.

Words she had once worn as armour were fired back at her from Mia's mouth, it wasn't vindication. It was decay, as if they'd rotted in her mind since she'd received them, waiting for the moment to cut back.

It was then Katherine noted the irony. She wanted Mia with her, always had. But wanting her and knowing what to do with her were two very different things. Before this, Mia had been light. She thought of others constantly, carried them even when she was on the verge of breaking and it was that same heart that terrified Katherine.

Because with goodness, came vision. And that meant that one day Mia might've seen Katherine clearly. The lies, the blood, the centuries of betrayal masquerading as self preservation. And once she'd seen that, what reason would she have to stay?

It was then Katherine had begun her project, she lied to Aziel, to Mia's own father, knowing what his grief would drive him to. It wasn't just out of jealousy, though that was a part of it, envy that Mia had a father who would fight for her when Katherine's had banished her across the world. But the older Pierce had also done this to shape Mia, harden her, transform her into a survivor.

Their time in Alaric's apartment had almost convinced her that it had worked, that even with all the softness inside Mia had wanted to love Katherine. She'd known about her crimes yet didn't flinch, instead intended to build something real. And for a flickering moment, Katherine believed they might finally be able to salvage a sisterhood from the wreckage they'd been handed.

And then Klaus, as he always did, tore it apart, just as he had every aspect of her life. At homecoming she tried once again. Another attempt to pull Mia out before the damage Mystic Falls inflicted became permanent. But by then Mia had seen the rot beneath the smirk and whatever thread had connected them was frayed beyond repair.

Now, in the shadows of the last fortnight, the truth had crystallized with bitter clarity. Katherine had thought what she desired was a companion like her, a mirror but similar to most things that left her mouth, that was a lie. What she truly wanted, what she'd always wanted, was someone who would stay. Not out of manipulation or debt, not out of fear.

She didn't want Mia to be a Pierce. Her wish was for them to be Petrovas together.

~~~~

The alley behind the club was drenched in neon, light spilled in fracture shapes from the signage above, catching in the puddles like melted opals. Mia stood still for a moment, her stilettos rooted in place as the throb of the music faded behind her. Her breath left her lungs slow, unfurling into the night like smoke. She didn't blink.

The air was dense and metallic, rich with the scent of blood, sweat and wet asphalt. As the door swung shut behind, the high collapsed. Her mind felt fogged like something was pressing just behind her eyes, tapping, pulsing, gnawing. Part of her believed it was her humanity, clawing its way back through and that was something she couldn't allow. She swallowed hard and blinked at the darkness, reminding herself of something she'd been repeating for days. It's better this way.

But the thought no longer landed with conviction. Instead it rattled, weak, splintered, fractured by something she refused to name. She inhaled sharply, fingers twitching at her sides. Then slowly, she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her phone. The screen lit her face blue, she didn't look at her reflection in it, she hadn't dared to in days. Her thumb hovered over the screen.

Stefan was seated at his desk, head bowed as his pen carved across a page already ink stained with emotion. His journal had become more confessional as of late. He told himself it helped, putting into words, giving shape to the mess of thoughts crowding his mind.

Mia was at the heart of it all.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated beside his journal, buzzing against the wood like it was trembling. He glanced at the screen. Private number. Without hesitation, he answered, "Hello?" There was no response, he listened closing to hear a faint rustle of air, the echo of a street, a car passing in the distance and then just beneath it all, a breath. His whole body stilled, "Mia?"

Still no voice, just breathing but he knew. That sound was carved into him, its rhythm, softness. Her silence spoke more than any confession ever could. He closed his eyes and exhaled, slowly leaning back against his chair as the pressure in his chest loosened. His grip on the phone loosened but didn't falter.

"You don't have to say anything." He assured her quietly, voice dipping into that low register he only used when he meant something. "But I know what you're feeling right now." He paused, letting the space between them fill with truth. "You think your humanity's trying to snake back in. That if you don't stop it now, it'll break through....and you won't survive it. So now you're trying to burn a bridge."

He opened his eyes again, staring blankly at the ceiling. His words weren't guesses, they were recollections. "But it won't work." He continued, "We're not going to give up on you, the same way you'd persist for us." His voice caught, just barely. "I know you need time. Believe me. I've learned the hard way, it's not something that can be forced, all that does is make it hurt more. So I'm not going to beg or get someone to drag you back. I'm just here."

Stefan leaned forward slightly, voice softening even more, like he was whispering to the version of her trapped inside, the part that felt conviction. "Someone once told me the easiest way to get your humanity back...is to focus on one good thing. Just one, not the whole weight of the world. Not the pain or the guilt. Just the one thing that still brings you joy, that makes life worth living. You hold onto that, let it in, a little at a time. And the rest will follow."

There was still no response, but he didn't expect one. The fact she hadn't hung up yet meant something, it meant everything. "I miss you." He admitted, finally. "We all do. I just hope...you're okay. Call me, whenever you need to. Take all the time you need, we'll wait." He took a pause, one last inhale. "Forever and a day."

With those last three words, the line went dead. He didn't even hear her breathe out before it ended, just silence then absence. But even then, the phone still hummed warm in his hand. She had called him. That was enough. For now.

The fog in Mia's mind didn't lilt, it pulsed. Her forehead was damp with sweat, the pressure behind her temples mounting like a storm building behind stained glass windows. She reached up and rubbed at the heat, trying to will it away, her hand trembling faintly. It didn't feel like a blood high, instead it ached of weakness.

She heard the footsteps before the voice. "If you didn't care..." Katherine started from behind her, casual but laced with suspicion. "...then why did you call him?"

Mia didn't turn right away, her expression remained unreadable, her shoulders relaxed in practiced detachment. "He has a sexy voice. " She replied flatly, finally glancing over her shoulder.

But Katherine's retort never came, her lips parted then froze. Her eyes widened slightly, alarm creeping in beneath her lashes as she took in Mia properly. The colour had drained from her face, the pallor of her skin stark against the low streetlights. Her cheeks were almost ashen and beneath the shimmer of sweat, her skin looked translucent, her veins a whisper beneath the surface. There was no glow to her anymore, just a slow, sinking hollowness. She crossed the space between them in a blink, gripping Mia's hand, "Why are you so hot?"

Mia yanked her hand back, her tone razor sharp, "Oh no...Look, I know you've been alone for a few centuries but please have some morals. You can't resort to incest just because no one else wants you."

The older Pierce ignored the jab, her eyes narrowing, something wasn't right. She sniffed, faint, barely perceptible. There was blood on Mia, but not the metallic sharpness of a victim. It was something else, familiar, it clung to her skin like a ghost. Then she saw it through the drooped side of her jacket, a crimson dot blooming at Mia's upper arm, Just a pin prick at first but when she grabbed it, pulling off the leather despite her resistance, she saw the truth beneath.

The muscle under the skin was inflamed, red, dying. Katherine's face drained of colour. "...It's werewolf venom." She exclaimed, eyes still locked on the mottled skin. "How long have you had this?"

Mia blinked slowly, looking extremely bored. "I think I'd know if a werewolf bit me."

"No." Katherine held it tighter, looking closer to examine. "No, this wasn't a bite, it's accurate, direct." Her eyes sharpened, "That witch of yours..."

"George?" Mia's brow lifted, "The guy who spent years pining after me, he tried to kill me? You don't think much, do you?"

Katherine rolled her eyes, pulling something from inside her jacket, a folded piece of paper. She thrust it into Mia's chest. "He injected you while he was doing that spell, I found this in his pocket after you killed him, he's saying sorry but didn't say what for. It must be a diluted dose, that's why it's taking its time to kill you."

"I told you, I heard you talking to yourself. You killed him the second he was done with the spell, you were arguing alone. Then you did it again at the apartment, you were talking to Klaus but he wasn't there. I thought it was just the blood, the haze, but now it makes sense."

Mia stepped back, a slow, disgusted scowl spreading across her face. "You're fucking crazy."

Katherine tilted her head, "No. You are. And in a few hours, you'll be dead unless we get you back to Mystic Falls." She turned, already heading toward the car but Mia didn't follow. The older Pierce, looked over her shoulder and saw her standing perfectly still, arms folded over her chest, rooted to the spot. "What are you doing?" She asked, frustration mounting. "We need to go."

"No." Mia shook her head, the word was soft but it cracked like thunder. "That's exactly what George wanted. He knew this would lead me back to Mystic Falls. That we'd have no other choice but crawl to Klaus for help. I'm not giving that smug bastard the satisfaction."

"You won't be giving anything if you're dead." Katherine snapped, storming closer. "This isn't about pride, which coming from me, is really saying something. You're actually dying."

Mia's chin lifted, her voice low and measured. "Then I'll die." Katherine stared at her, disbelieving. "I mean what I said. I'd rather be dead than give in. If I die, it'll be my choice."

Katherine shook her head in disapproval, her eyes narrowing. "That doesn't prove anything. It doesn't make you strong. It makes you stupid."

The younger vampire took a step forward, her expression unchanging. "If it were the other way around, do you really think anyone would try to help you? Because I wouldn't. In fact, I think I'd stand there, next to Klaus and watch as the life drained from your eyes, knowing that all I had to do was say, Please Nik, please heal her, and he would."

Katherine said nothing, she didn't have to. The blow landed cleanly. "I don't need you anymore." Mia quipped, venom quiet yet lethal. "Well, I never did. But now I see the truth. The great Katherine Pierce, is actually just a desperate little girl who craves company so badly she'll stick around a vampire with no humanity. Someone who literally couldn't care less if you lived or died."

Mia began to strut away, "You can go compel yourself a friend now. Or a boyfriend. Just make sure to pick someone over eighteen this time."

Before she could get any further there was a snap. Pain flashed white hot. Mia's body crumpled to the floor, neck twisted at a brutal angle. Katherine stood over her, chest heaving, she tossed her hair over her shoulder then let out a deep sigh. "It really sucks to be the responsible one."

And with that, she bent down, gathered Mia into her arms and made her way to the car. She hoped this would score her some points with a certain immortal.

~~~~

All that was left was darkness. Thick, humming, silent. It felt like swimming through tar. Mia's consciousness stirred first, disoriented, frayed, like someone had stitched her back into reality with shaking hands. Then came sensation, her cheek was pressed against something rough, jagged. The sharp bite of stone, a pebble jutting into the side of her rib. Her brow furrowed and she shifted with a low groan, body sluggish, limbs reluctant to cooperate.

She turned onto her back, wincing as the movement scraped her skin raw. The chill of the ground clung to her spine and when her vision finally adjusted, she saw a crumpled blanket beside her, one she must've rolled off. Someone had cared enough to place it, but clearly not enough to leave her somewhere nicer.

Her hand drifted instinctively to her upper arm. Nothing. The skin was smooth now. No swelling or inflammation. The bite or rather the venom injection was gone. Cured, erased which meant a certain hybrid had found her, she didn't remember him being there. Which meant she hadn't been awake to fight it, to reject his help. To damage his ego.

The silence was broken. Footsteps. Soft at first, their echoes bounced off the cold, damp walls in every direction, impossible to locate. Mia sat up slowly, her muscles protesting, eyes narrowing as they scanned her surroundings. A torch burned low near the far wall, casting a golden pool of flickering light that barely reached her heel. Everything else, the high arching stone, the cavernous hollows, the scent of earth and damp moss, it looked almost like a cave.

Or a tomb. Her breathing slowed, steady, controlled. Not fearful, not even irritated, just calculating. The footsteps grew louder, closer. A figure appeared at the mouth of the chamber, backlit and shadowed but the voice gave him away before the face came into focus. "Man, have we missed you."

The words scraped in the air like a match to sandpaper, annoying, jarring, insufferably smug. Mia turned her head slowly. Damon Salvatore casually leaned against the tomb entrance, arms crossed, mouth curled into a smirk that danced on the line between charm and mockery.

"Welcome home Sunshine."

A/N: HELLO MY DARLINGS. I hope you enjoyed that chapter. Tbh I really dont know how i felt about it but I overthink. Sorry if it feels like nothing happened but I wanted Mia away from Mystic Falls for at least one chapter

PLEASE REMEMBER TO VOTE. What was your favourite part?

Yeah I know Katherine didnt really do much but to be honest i didnt know what to do with that bitch😭Her relationship with Mia is really interesting to me though (even though i created it) 

RIP George, you were a real one and in the end the girl you gave you heart to back in the 20s was the one who snatched it. Also sorry to anyone who was confused, basically Mia was just tripping balls after the spell so like do we know if anything that happened after that is true......

I hope you're enjoying non humanity Mia so far, I didnt really get to show her true levels of menace here but there will be a lot next chapter. Season 4 is a whirlwind

PLEASE GIVE ME THEORIES, HOPES OR IDEAS THAT YOU WANT TO SEE
See you next time darlings ❤️❤️❤️
Published: 1st August 2025 (unedited so dont point out mistakes)

( heres a fun trick before you go. Click the grey star at the top of the chapter once to turn it orange. SO COOOL!!!)