Notes: Aaaand, back to Matt's POV for the final part.

Thank you to everyone for reading this. :)

“Wake up, Matt.” The voice was loud in my ears, and very insistent.

“Go 'way, Mom,” I mumbled, burying my face further in my pillow. I wrinkled my nose as it encountered something dry and crusty, but couldn't be bothered to rouse myself to investigate.

“I'm not your mom,” the voice pointed out patiently, “And Damon isn't heading for any Mother of the Year awards, either.” There was a level of acidity in the voice that made my brain wake up enough for me to crack my eyes open. Stefan's level, green gaze was inches away, filling my vision. Satisfied I was awake, Stefan pulled back, and I immediately shut my eyes in pain.

“God, too bright! Turn the sun off!” I yelped. My head throbbed, and I whimpered. I hadn't had a hangover this bad in a couple of years, and I vaguely wondered what the hell I'd been drinking the night before to cause this level of pain.

“It's six in the evening, Matt, the sun is going down. On the other side of the building.” Stefan sighed, and perched himself on the edge of my bed. “What do you remember, Matt?”

“Not much,” I said, my brow furrowing as I tried to remember anything at all. I sat up – carefully – and rubbed at my eyes. Squinting was a lot less painful than fully opening my eyes, I discovered. I caught sight of my pillow, and discovered what the crusty stuff was. Blood. “Did I have a nosebleed?” I asked, confused.

“No, Matt,” Stefan responded sadly. “I need you to tell me the last thing you remember. Please, it's important.” I looked sharply at him, he sounded almost... desperate. I closed my eyes and cast my mind back to my last memory.

“I remember getting home from work,” I said after a minute. “I got back, thought I'd left my door open. Oh! Damon was there.” It started coming back now, little by little. “That's right, he was worried about you because you'd broken up with Elena and you'd gone missing...” I broke into a smile, “Obviously you've turned up again.”

Stefan didn't smile back. Instead he stared at me with a peculiar expression on his face. “And?” he prompted me.

I rubbed my eyes again, finding it somehow difficult to concentrate. It was there, just out of reach, and if Stefan's sombre behaviour was anything to go by, it was something significant. “I don't know, this hangover is making it hard for me to think,” I whined. It was irritating me, trying to work out how I'd gone from discussing Stefan with Damon, to a hangover. I was pretty sure I hadn't gone to a bar or anything with Damon (the idea of him as a drinking buddy was hilarious), so where did alcohol come into it?

“It's not a hangover,” Stefan informed me.

“Sure as hell feels like one,” I groused.

“You're... thirsty,” he said hesitantly, but didn't elaborate. I scowled, but before I could point out that dehydration was a common symptom of hangovers, Stefan spoke again. “Please, Matt, I need you to remember.”

I bit back a frustrated growl and picked absently at the blood flakes on my pillow. I could still smell the coppery tang faintly... I frowned as memory stirred. My blood... I didn't have a nosebleed... my eyes widened in horror as everything flooded back. I remembered Damon's teeth on my throat, the blinding pain, my blood being sucked from me, the elder Salvatore stealing the life from my veins.

“Damon!” My hand flew to my throat, searching for the gash that had to be there, evidence of the trauma. There was none, just cool, smooth skin beneath my fingers. Then I remembered Damon's blood in my mouth, swallowing it, unable to resist. His words of explanation that seemed so sorry and sad, knowing that what he was doing was wrong while believing he had no other choice.

I remembered dying.

“Ohgod, ohgod, ohgodohgod.” I began rocking back and forth. Dear god, I'd died, which meant... I couldn't bring myself to say the word. I was like Stefan, now. I was dead, undead, and I'd need to drink blood to live, and... oh god, it was too much to take in. This wasn't supposed to happen to me, I wasn't anything remarkable or special like Elena, for crying out loud! I was supposed to be the loyal, dependable, and very human sidekick. My distressed whimpering increased in volume, and Stefan's arms were suddenly wrapping around me as he pulled me against his solid chest. He rocked me soothingly, whispering nonsense in an attempt to comfort me as I clawed desperately at his shirt.

I concentrated on the steady beating of his heart, reassured at that small sign of life, soothed by its repetitive rhythm. It was something I'd never noticed in Stefan before – I suppose being human, the only heartbeat you ever notice is your own. I'd just assumed that because he was a vampire his heart wouldn't beat; it wasn't something I'd ever thought to actually ask about. Now, I clung to it like a lifeline.

I lost track of time as Stefan held me, my brain trying to wrap itself around the unthinkable, to come to terms with what had happened. I wasn't human, could never be again. Outside of permanently dying, there was no cure, I was absolutely certain of that. If there had been, Stefan would have taken it already, would have given it to Elena. So I was stuck, I had to spend the rest of my life... this way. However long that may be.

The concept of living for five hundred years like Stefan had was frightening, and my mind couldn't comprehend the enormity of it. I'd outlive my friends, my family. I'd get to see my siblings' children's children grow old and die, and I didn't feel entirely comfortable with that knowledge, it just seemed wrong, unnatural. Thinking about my family made me wonder about what the hell I was supposed to tell them. Should I tell them? Should I cut my ties, let them carry on without burdening them with my... condition? Could I even bring myself to do that? It was a small comfort to know I had some time to decide. Stefan and Damon aside, it wasn't like anyone knew I'd died. I didn't have to find a new identity or anything like Elena had, I could carry on as normal for a few more years before people noticed I wasn't aging.

Of course, my mother was bound to notice something the first time I set foot back home (and how the hell was I going to get myself invited in without looking really suspicious?). She was observant like that, always knew when something was wrong with one of us. It was guaranteed she'd spot I was paler and bombard me with questions until I admitted what was wrong with me. I wondered what she'd make of it if I told her I was a...

I still couldn't say it. It was getting stupid, skirting around the word, avoiding saying it as if by doing so it didn't make any of it real. I couldn't keep denying it, I had to force myself to accept it and just say the damn word. I gritted my teeth, working up the courage to say it.

“I'm a... a... vampire,” I gasped finally. My ears could barely make sense of it, but at least I'd been able to actually say it out loud. Maybe it would be easier now I'd said it once. “I'm a vampire,” I repeated. There, not so bad.

“I'm sorry,” Stefan whispered into my hair, “I'm so sorry.” I wasn't sure if he was offering sympathy or blaming himself, but at that moment I didn't have the energy to battle with him if he was feeling guilty. It would have to wait until later, when I could cope better and had enough presence of mind to be able to hit him upside the head.

Despite feeling safe and comfortable, I was coming enough to my senses to feel a little foolish for being cradled like this, a grown man being held like a child. I reluctantly pulled away from Stefan's comforting embrace, and repositioned myself so I was seated with my back against the wall. A glance at my (too bright) alarm clock told me that I'd been quietly panicking in Stefan's arms for well over an hour.

“How long have I been out?” I asked, my voice feeling raw in my throat. It had taken a good few days for Elena's transformation to finish, though I was aware that hers wasn't a textbook case.

“Since last night. I called you in sick at work.”

Sick. Ha! That was the understatement of the century. If you counted being a creature ravenous for blood as being under the weather, then sure, being sick covered it. Though I supposed I should count myself lucky I wasn't going mad with bloodlust, like Elena had when she'd been turned.

Remembering Elena's first few hours, I had to ask, “Why am I rational when Elena was completely out of her head?”

“She didn't have enough of our blood to complete the change. Damon... well, he had the sense and skill to do the job properly with you. You'll need to feed soon, but you're in your right mind, still sane.”

“Still sane?!” a small, hysterical laugh escaped my lips. “Stefan, the last thing I feel right now is sane. My whole damn world has been ripped out from under me. I'm a freaking vampire!” His words repeated in my head, and I grimaced. “I'm a vampire, and I'm going to have to feed soon, drink blood...” What made the whole thing worse was that my mind wanted to feel nauseous, to rebel against such a disgusting concept. Instead, my damn body betrayed me, just as it had when I drank Damon's blood. I could feel my fangs sharpening at the thought of blood, my stomach tightening in anticipation of being filled with it. I began to panic. “Stefan, I don't think I can do this.”

“You can. You have to.” He made it sound so damn simple. Perhaps it was, because it was that, go completely insane from bloodlust and kill someone, or take a walk into the sun. “I'll be there to walk you through it, you don't have to deal with any of this on your own.”

I needed to remember that. I wasn't alone, Stefan was here to help me get through it. He wouldn't abandon me. I took several deep, calming breaths (maybe I didn't need to do that any more, but it benefited me psychologically), and decided that I needed to look at this logically, assess the changes in my body to better understand them and, hopefully, control them. My skin was definitely paler. Not that my complexion was much darker before; I'd had fair skin to match my blonde hair and blue eyes. But my flesh still seemed alien to me. The small scars from rough play during my childhood had vanished, leaving flawless skin in their place. I was mildly put out by that. I'd spent years cultivating those scars, and they'd been wiped clean away.

I'd already worked out that my sight was sharper. It was night, Stefan hadn't bothered turning any of the lights on, and yet I found I could see perfectly. Colours were more muted in the dark, but I could still distinguish them, and everything was so sharp. I'd had excellent eyesight as a human, but now it was phenomenal.

I studied my right hand, staring at the detail of my veins, then flexing my fingers, marvelling as they moved with liquid grace. My gestures seemed faster, more precise, and if my hand coordination was this improved, I couldn't imagine how much better the rest of my physical reflexes would be. Now that I was concentrating on my senses, a musky, wild scent tickled my nose. I realised that it was Stefan's personal scent, and on top of that I realised I could smell the damp woodland clinging to him.

My hearing was off the charts. I'd thought my room was pretty quiet, and my dorm was located in a quieter part of the campus. But now I could hear all kinds of things clearly; the wildlife outside, especially a fox rummaging in a garbage can; traffic roaring far in the distance; students laughing several buildings away as they headed out to enjoy the night. I could also hear murmurs in the dorms, in the rooms around me. If I concentrated hard enough, I could clearly hear conversations from the common room, and... I quickly stopped concentrating. I never wanted to hear the sound of Billy Johnson doing that ever again.

Okay, so far, so good. I'd been able to deal with those things pretty well without breaking down in hysterics. That left the thing I'd been avoiding, the one thing that I knew made all of this very real, marked me as Not Human. Cautiously, I poked experimentally at my teeth with my tongue. It was disconcerting yet oddly fascinating the way my canines responded to my probing, lengthening and sharpening, even though I was very carefully not thinking about blood. After a moment I realised Stefan was giving me a peculiar look. “What?” I asked, a little defensively.

His lip twitched a little, as if he was trying to hide a smile. “Do you have any idea how ridiculous you look doing that?”

I realised that I probably did look funny, given the expressions I must have been pulling with my mouth while I explored. I felt suddenly self-conscious at the thought that Stefan knew I was, well, playing with my teeth. With fangs that were just like his that I couldn't believe I had, and frankly shouldn't have had in the first place. I realised that I still thought of myself as human, different to Stefan, and it was probably going to take a while for my mindset to change enough to remember that we were, essentially, the same.

Only I, for one, was not going to fall into the insidious trap of thinking that I was a monster. I'd kick it out of Stefan too, if I could.

I cast my eyes around for another distraction. I noticed there was a ring on my finger, heavy and silver, set with a deep, blue stone. I'd obviously been too preoccupied to notice it at first, but now I frowned at it as I turned it around on my finger. I knew what it was. I'd been around Stefan, Damon and even Elena for far too long not to be aware of the significance. The stone was Lapis Lazuli, a talisman that allowed vampires to walk unharmed in the sun, would allow me to walk in the sun. It looked vaguely familiar, and I shot a questioning glance at Stefan.

“Damon's.” He shrugged, seemingly as perplexed by it as I was. I didn't expect him to have left me without some form of lapis to protect me; he'd planned this all far too carefully to risk that. But his own ring? He'd worn it for five hundred years, and now he'd given it to me. I didn't understand why, such sentimentality was something I'd never associated with Damon. But then if this whole thing proved anything, it was that no one actually knew Damon. A question wrapped up in a fucking enigma, and about as unpredictable as the wind.

It infuriated me. On the one hand, I despised him for forcing vampirism on me. I didn't want it, would never have asked for it, but he'd done it anyway. On the other hand, he'd taken such care over the whole damn thing, been so gentle after the initial bite, taken care to leave me safe. And, looking into Stefan's green eyes, I couldn't help but feel grateful that my best friend was here with me now, and not a pile of ash in some godforsaken alley somewhere.

“Is he around? Or did he bite and run?” I had to ask.

Stefan frowned darkly. “He's around,” he said at last. “I can feel him on the periphery of things. Close enough to keep watch on us, too far away for me to be able to catch him and wring his damn neck.”

Huh. The knowledge eased my fears a little. Once upon a time I'd have figured him for turning someone, and then vanishing completely. Evidently Damon Salvatore was better than that. Even knowing that the pair of us wanted to do unspeakably violent things to him, he was still sticking around to make sure we were okay. It seemed he'd decided that Stefan needed to be the one to care for me and take me under his wing while I grew accustomed to what I'd become. Annoyingly, Damon was right. I'd feel more comfortable with Stefan, and Stefan would benefit from having someone who needed him. I resolved to make sure I was around when Damon was eventually wrong, just so I could enjoy the self-satisfied smirk being wiped off his face.

I frowned. My throat was starting to feel parched, and swallowing wasn't helping. Stefan looked at me carefully. “Are you alright?”

“Thirsty,” I replied distractedly. There was a warm, almost itching sensation spreading through my veins, and I stared at my wrist as I rubbed it in a vain attempt to soothe the heat. It didn't seem to do any good.

“Matt? Matt!” I realised I'd zoned out and Stefan had been trying to get my attention. I dragged my eyes from the veins in my wrist to meet Stefan's concerned gaze. “You need to feed. The thirst, the burning in your veins... they're signs that you need blood.”

I swallowed heavily, and this time it wasn't a reflex to ease my dry throat. A pit opened in my stomach, and I looked at Stefan fearfully. “Now?”

“We can't leave it for much longer. I can take you out to hunt something, teach you what you need to know. Or you can sit tight here tonight while I go and find you some fresh blood if hunting is too much for you.”

The idea of hunting caused a fresh panic to rise in my chest, but the burning was becoming more incessant, forcing me to push down my emotions and think the situation through. Waiting here was tempting, but I didn't know how long it would take Stefan to find me some blood and get back here, and I was pretty sure I couldn't hold on for too long. On top of that, I didn't want to be left alone. By myself, I was scared I'd go mad and do something stupid.

“We can go... hunting,” I said, my voice cracking. I didn't sound especially confident, and Stefan certainly didn't seem convinced. I coughed to clear my throat, and tried again. “Hunting. I mean, I have to do this some time, right? I might as well get it over with. I don't think I'm safe on my own, anyway, and hey, it's not people, right?”

“Right, not people. Animals. We'll find something in the woods.” He smiled at me reassuringly, proudly. It was a little strange seeing Stefan look that way over my decision, but it still pleased me.

We didn't waste time once the decision had been made, no point putting it off, especially as I could feel the burning in my veins growing hotter by the minute. Grabbing jackets and keys, we were out of the dorms in less then a minute, heading towards the woods. I was jittery with nerves and a need to expend the energy that was building up inside me. Out of sight of public places, Stefan flashed me a mischievous and knowing grin before throwing me a challenge, “Race you!”

He was off, quick as a flash, but with my new, heightened senses I could track him well enough as he flew into the trees. I set off after him, laughing wildly, determined to test my new speed and agility to the full.

I didn't choose this, I didn't want it, but with Stefan to help me? I might just survive it.

Fin.