Try {One | Alaric Saltzman}

The Ties That Bind

The Old Witch House would always be a symbol of death to Abigail. Its living room was where Abigail heard the news of Jenna, its windows where she watched John sacrifice himself for Elena, the walls that echoed her cries when she thought she'd lost her brother forever, and the floor that creaked as she told Stefan she wouldn't change what happened to her.

It was that and more to Bonnie. The sight of a massacre that wiped out a hundred witches in the 1690s, where the Council burned Emily at the stake in 1864, and where she'd performed a spell or two that connected her to the dead in ways that couldn't be explained. But it was also where she communicated with the spirits of her ancestors and learned the history of their magic. She could feel them, see them if they could manifest themselves, and draw from them.

"I've been having these dreams for days now. It's like the witches are trying to send me a message." Bonnie walked past the three coffins laying vertically on the ground, stopping just in front of the one that was horizontal. "I didn't tell you because Stefan thought that if you knew where they were, Klaus could threaten people to get the information out of you."

Elena nodded once, far more frustrated than Abigail when it came to being left in the dark. "So, these are the rest of his family?"

"Yeah. Elijah and two others." She faced them. "This one... is the one we can't open. We don't know who is in it, or what's in it, only that I think my dream is telling me it'll help us kill Klaus."

From behind them, Stefan asked, "What the hell are you doing?"

Bonnie turned around slowly. "I needed them to know about the coffin."

"And I needed you to keep them out of it, Bonnie."

"I think I know who can open it, and I need them to help me find her."

"Find who? What are you talking about?"

"I couldn't place her face at first. Then I realized..." She pulled a picture out of her pocket, one that Abigail had seen so many times before. "It's my mom."

Bonnie brushed off every word Abigail said as they searched through piles of driver's license records for her mother. It was becoming more and more clear that she was reaching her breaking point, that she could hardly stand to be in the same room as her. So, she worked with her head down, passing any viable leads to Elena rather than Bonnie.

"Los Alamitos?"

"Too old."

"Honolulu?"

"I wish." She looked at the next stack. "How many of these are there?"

Elena sighed. "A lot."

"This is surreal. Having to track down a woman who bailed on her own kid." Her shoulders slumped. "You know my dad never talked about her? And neither did Grams. I have no memories of her. I used to pretend that she was dead. It was easier to do that than to wonder why she never came back for me."

"You know you don't have to do this, right?" Elena reached for her hand. "Let Stefan obsess over opening up the coffin. It doesn't have to fall on you."

"The coffin is spelled shut. That makes it a witch problem. So, it does fall on me." She took an uneasy breath. "I was bound to see my mother again sooner or later."

"Sooner. Abigail Bennett. Or should I say Abby Wilson. Monroe, North Carolina. Born in Mystic Falls Hospital. Graduated from Mystic Falls High... blah, blah, blah." Damon handed Bonnie a folder, looking sideways at Abigail. "A little compulsion helps speed up the research process."

Bonnie looked down at the driver's license photo. "This is her."

"Road trip." He smirked. "I call shotgun."