The tears started then, unable to keep them to herself like she had managed for so long, because Matt was right. All of them had died. Each and every one of them. None of them had been able to avoid the path of death that seemed to have swept through Mystic Falls. But who really could even be blamed for any of that? It seemed to have started long before the Originals had stepped foot back into the town, before Damon and Stefan had even. Once Elena’s parents had died, nothing seemed to be the same for any of them. That one event had altered so much for so many of them, but then there had been so much leading up to that moment that had nothing to do with any of them.
Esther created the vampires.
Henrik had died.
The things that went bump in the night weren’t just stories that parents told their children to keep them under control. They were real and she was one of them.
It was never going to end, but they would continue on as best they could.
“I don’t think it will, Matty,” she whispered, trying to muffle her crying by pressing one of her hands to her mouth. “I think we’ll just adapt as best we can. Live as best we can. And go on as best we can.”
And in a hundred years...how would she look back on all the tragedy of their lives? Would it still tear into her like it did then or would it be only a drop in the ocean compared to everything else?