CHAPTER FIFTEEN

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ALL ALONE

"For a star to be born, there is one thing that must happen. A nebula must collapse. So collapse. Crumble. This is not your destruction. This is your birth."


*:・゚✧*:・゚✧


     Henrik was stumbling away before Bonnie had stopped chanting. His stomach was turning almost violently. He didn't know how Finn died, didn't know who had done it or if he had turned a White Oak stake on himself, but none of that mattered. What mattered was that one of his brothers was dead now, and Henrik had the memory of his body burning stuck inside his head, on an endless loop. He was vaguely aware of Klaus saying something to him—he even thought he heard Bonnie saying his name—but he paid them no mind. He had to get out of that room, had to get somewhere private. Something was building up inside of his chest and he didn't want anyone to be around him when it exploded.

He managed to make it to the bathroom in the hall, and then he was quick to lock the door behind him. He grasped at the edge of the sink and bent over it, thinking he was going to puke. Thankfully, he managed to hold it back, and now he focused on taking deep breaths to calm himself. He glanced up at the mirror, saw that his eyes were red-rimmed and watery, and twisted on the water. Gathering handfuls, he bent to splash his face. The cold water wasn't refreshing like he had hoped. He clutched the edge of the sink again and bowed his head, clenching his teeth as the feeling in his chest moved up into his throat. It constricted painfully, but he fought the urge to cry. He could cry later, once he was truly alone.

Sniffing slightly, he bent to splash his face one last time, trying to ease the redness in his eyes. It didn't help much, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He reached for a hand towel and dried his face, then threw it onto the counter and went to leave the bathroom. He needed to make sure Klaus kept his word and let Bonnie go. He left just in time to hear the front door slam, and could only conclude that it was Bonnie leaving. He made his way down the hall and turned into the ballroom, mildly surprised that Damon was still dangling there. He would have thought Rebekah or Klaus would have released him by now, but considering he was still there—and so was Stefan, holding a black duffel in hand—Henrik could only guess they were bargaining.

"I'm here to make a deal," Stefan announced, confirming Henrik's thoughts. Henrik didn't go further into the room, choosing to lean back against the wall by the entrance. At the sound of Stefan's voice, Henrik noticed Damon use what little strength he had left to raise his head. There was blood pooling out of his mouth. Whatever Rebekah had done to him to make him scream must have been horrible. Glancing between the two brothers, the duffel in Stefan's hand, and then remembering Finn's body burning on the staircase, Henrik realized there was a real possibility that the Salvatore brothers wouldn't survive this confrontation. Henrik, for one, hoped that was true. If they were behind Finn's death, then they deserved it.

"Stefan," Damon croaked out, barely able to keep his eyes open. "What are you doing?" Stefan didn't even look at him. He just held his hand out and let the duffel drop onto the marble floor. Henrik could hear wood clanking together inside, and his stomach sank. He knew what was inside the duffel bag, which was why he wasn't surprised when Stefan said it out loud.

"Eight stakes made out of the White Oak," Stefan explained, eyes going to Rebekah. "From the part of Wickery Bridge you forgot to burn." Rebekah's eyes widened. Henrik could dimly remember Rebekah telling him and Klaus that she had found the remnants of the White Oak and had burned it all, but Henrik had been so consumed with his vision that he had dismissed it. It looked like he was right to.

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