Vampire Diaries - The Struggle | Page 6

can control. And—and it's not a game, not any more. The more you
use those powers, the more they use you. Eventually they can end up using you all
the time, whether you want it or not. It's dangerous."
Elena got up and walked to the cherry wood dresser, looking down at it without
seeing it. At last she turned.
"You're right; it's not a game. And I believe you about how dangerous it can be.
But it's not a game for Stefan, either. Bonnie, I think he's out there, somewhere,
terribly hurt. And there's nobody to help him; nobody's even looking for him, except
his enemies. He may be dying right now. He—he may even be…" Her throat closed.
She bowed her head over the dresser and made herself take a deep breath, trying to
steady herself. When she looked up, she saw Meredith was looking at Bonnie.
Bonnie straightened her shoulders, sitting up as tall as she could. Her chin lifted
and her mouth set. And in her normally soft brown eyes, a grim light shone as they
met Elena's.
"We need a candle," was all she said.
The match rasped and threw sparks in the darkness, and then the candle flame
burned strong and bright. It lent a golden glow to Bonnie's pale face as she bent over
it.
"I'm going to need both of you to help me focus," she said. "Look into the flame,
and think about Stefan. Picture him in your mind. No matter what happens, keep on
looking at the flame. And whatever you do, don't say anything."
Elena nodded, and then the only sound in the room was soft breathing. The flame
flickered and danced, throwing patterns of light over the three girls sitting
cross-legged around it. Bonnie, eyes closed, was breathing deeply and slowly, like
someone drifting into sleep.
Stefan, thought Elena, gazing into the flame, trying to pour all her will into the
thought. She created him in her mind, using all her senses, conjuring him to her. The
roughness of his woolen sweater under her cheek, the smell of his leather jacket, the
strength of his arms around her. Oh, Stefan…
Bonnie's lashes fluttered and her breathing quickened, like a sleeper having a bad
dream. Elena resolutely kept her eyes on the flame, but when Bonnie broke the
silence a chill went up her spine.
At first it was just a moan, the sound of someone in pain. Then, as Bonnie tossed
her head, breath coming in short bursts, it became words.
"Alone…" she said, and stopped. Elena's nails bit into her hand. "Alone… in the

dark," said Bonnie. Her voice was distant and tortured.
There was another silence, and then Bonnie began to speak quickly.
"It's dark and cold. And I'm alone. There's something behind me… jagged and
hard. Rocks. They used to hurt—but not now. I'm numb now, from the cold. So
cold…" Bonnie twisted, as if trying to get away from something, and then she
laughed, a dreadful laugh almost like a sob. "That's… funny. I never thought I'd
want to see the sun so much. But it's always dark here. And cold. Water up to my
neck, like ice. That's funny, too. Water everywhere—and me dying of thirst. So
thirsty… hurts…"
Elena felt something tighten around her heart. Bonnie was inside Stefan's
thoughts, and who knew what she might discover there? Stefan, tell us where you
are, she thought desperately. Look around; tell me what you see.
"Thirsty. I need… life?" Bonnie's voice was doubtful, as if not sure how to
translate some concept. "I'm weak. He said I'll always be the weak one. He's strong
… a killer. But that's what I am, too. I killed Katherine; maybe I deserve to die. Why
not just let go?…"
"No!" said Elena before she could stop herself. In that instant, she forgot
everything but Stefan's pain. "Stefan—"
"Elena!" Meredith cried sharply at the same time. But Bonnie's head fell forward,
the flow of words cut off. Horrified, Elena realized what she had done.
"Bonnie, are you all right? Can you find him again? I didn't mean to…"
Bonnie's head lifted. Her eyes were open now, but they looked at neither the
candle nor Elena. They stared straight ahead, expressionless. When she spoke, her
voice was distorted, and Elena's heart stopped. It wasn't Bonnie's voice, but it was a
voice Elena recognized. She'd heard it coming from Bonnie's lips once before, in the
graveyard.
"Elena," the voice said, "don't go to the bridge. It's Death, Elena. Your death is
waiting there." Then Bonnie slumped forward.
Elena grabbed her shoulders and shook. "Bonnie!" she almost screamed.
"Bonnie!"
"What… oh, don't. Let go." Bonnie's voice was weak and shaken, but it was her
own. Still bent over, she put a hand to her forehead.
"Bonnie, are you all right?"
"I think so… yes. But it was so strange." Her tone sharpened and she looked up,
blinking. "What was that, Elena, about being a killer?"
"You remember that?"
"I remember everything. I can't describe it; it was awful. But what did that mean?"
"Nothing," said Elena. "He's hallucinating, that's all."
Meredith broke in. "He? Then you really think she tuned in to Stefan?"

Elena