I didn't know where I was.

I didn't know who I was.

I didn't remember anything.

All I knew was that I was waking up in the middle of a road with a gasp. I could feel a bleeding gash on my forehead. I looked over myself, seeing that I was missing a boot. I groaned in pain, breathing heavily, taking in my surroundings, seeing a shattered glass covered in blood that lead to the site of a gruesome car accident.

The door of a Jeep had been ripped off. The bloody, battered body of a middle-aged man hung from the driver's seat, only kept in by the seat belt he was wearing.

There was a school bus that had apparently hit the Jeep, currently being consumed by flames.

The first thing that came to my head was that I needed to help whoever was trapped inside.

I scrambled to my feet, running toward the inferno, hearing the sound of a screaming man and woman inside, trying to open the door with all my strength, but it didn't open. 

"Help!" a woman cried.

"Help!" a man called. "Help!"

I pushed my shoulder into the door over and over again until it finally burst open, running inside, helping a young, injured woman out of the bus, helping her outside, going back in for the others outside.

Two young men tripped, falling to the ground.

A police car pulled up next to us, the sirens wailing and lights flashing.

I sighed in relief.

        ~~~~~~~   

Everyone was safe now.

It was crime scene.

I sat on a stretcher, covered in a warm blanket and with an oxygen mask over my face.

A female paramedic made sure I was okay. "Easy. Breathe slow. Dizzy is normal. And keep your foot off the ground. We're in a cold snap. Weather folks say temperature's a record low. What's your name?"

I frowned in confusion. "I don't remember."

"Let's take a look at you," the paramedic told me, taking out her pen light, noticing a large gash on my neck, winching sympathetically, pulling my collar aside to get a better look. "Ooh, wow. Whoever you are, you are one lucky SOB. You're the first person I've met to survive a gash to the to the carotid." The way she had said that made me start to remember a few things. The paramedic put a gauze bandage over my wound. Dead victims were being wheeled away on a stretcher in body bags. I watched them go, upset. The paramedic noticed, giving me a sympathetic look. "Hey. Take it from me. Even heroes can't save them all."

I frowned in confusion. "What'd you just call me?"

"A hero," the paramedic answered slowly. "That's what those cheerleaders are saying, anyway. I'm keeping them at bay until I've ruled out concussive amnesia."

I frowned in concentration, finally remembering what had happened and who I was. "My name's Nicola Salvatore."

"And there we go," the paramedic told me. "Do you know where you are, Nicola?"

I sighed in defeat. "Yes. I'm in hell."

        ~~~~~~~   

I was still confused about what was happening. "I don't get it. My failed attempt at being a hero, the dead bodies..."

"I'm not sure I'm following you," the paramedic told me.

"I remember being stabbed by the Phoenix Sword, which means this is all some sort of looping nightmare, custom-made from my own psyche," I told her. "Which, I don't get, by the way. If the hell stone was gonna punish me, you would think it would have to do with Stefan, Damon, Sarah and my family."

The paramedic looked at me in concern. "Maybe I was a little hasty in my check-up. Can you look straight ahead?"

"I think I'm fine," I told her. "I'm just... I'm not in the mood for charades, all right? Can we just skip to the torture, please?" I called out to the cops nearby. "Hey, officers. Why don't we just get on with it, huh?"

I stood.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," the paramedic told me, making me sit down again. "Sit down. You are not making any sense."

One of the officers walked toward us, taking a wallet out of my jacket pocket, looking at the driver's license inside to get the information. "Martha Hammond?"

"No," I answered. "But okay."

"That's what it says on this license," the officer told me.

"I believe you, but that's not my wallet," I told him.

"Possible memory less," the paramedic told him.

The officer looked at me. "Have you been drinking, ma'am."

I thought for a moment. "Oh. I get it. I'm a vampire with control issues, and alcoholism is a metaphor for my bloodlust. See, now we're getting somewhere."

The paramedic and officer seemed to be getting more worried and confused with every statement I made.

"Ma'am, could you stand up for me?" the officer asked.

I stood. "Are we going to a warmer hellscape?"

The officer frowned in confusion. "Maybe. First, I'm gonna have to ask you to walk in a straight line."

I frowned, looking around in confusion.

        ~~~~~~~   

I was doing a field sobriety test while the officer watched me walk in a straight line away from him.

"Nice work, Martha," the officer told me. "And back to me."

I rolled my eyes, turning to walk toward the officer. "What is this supposed to prove?"

"That you were under the influence when you were driving the bus," the officer answered.

I looked at him in confusion. "What did you say?"

"What the hell happened to you?" the officer asked.

"I'm not sure," I told him. "I woke up in the middle of the road, and I saw the bus on fire."

"Yeah, you're a real hero, Martha," the officer told me sarcastically. "Saving half the kids from the accident you caused."

"Why do you keep calling me 'Martha'?" I asked in exasperation, frustrated.

The officer handed me a breathalyzer machine. "Here you go."

"And what if I refuse to take the test?" I asked.

"Then you're not giving me much of a choice," the officer told me, grabbing me by my jacket, turning me around, pushing me against the side of his police car, handcuffing me. "Martha Hammond, you're under arrest for driving under the influence."

I struggled angrily. "My name is Nicola."

"Stop," the officer told me. "Calm down."

I continued to struggle, catching a glimpse of myself in the side mirror of the cruiser, shocked to see not my own reflection, but of an older woman. 

        ~~~~~~~   

I struggled against the officer.

"Calm down, Martha," the officer told me.

"My name is Nicola, damn it," I told him angrily.

"All right, you asked for it," the officer told me, attempting to use force against me. I broke free, running away into the woods with my wrists still handcuffed behind my back. "Hey! Get back here! Stop! Stop!"

I continued to run through the woods, eventually tripping on an exposed tree root, falling to the ground. I groaned in pain, eventually managing to pull myself to my feet, continuing to flee from the scene.

        ~~~~~~~   

It was daylight now.

I was still handcuffed, running through the woods, stumbling through the woods. I had to stop, falling to my knees, vomiting on the ground, coughing, gasping for breath, groaning in pain. I saw a cabin nearby, sighing in relief, standing, walking closer, up onto the porch, trying to look through the windows, only to find that they were boarded up. I used my cuffed hands to pull off the board over the window, though it took most of my human strength to do so, turning to face the window, kicking through it, shattering it, kicking away most of the glass, carefully climbing through the broken window to get inside, landing on the leather couch under the window, rolling up to a sitting position. I took a moment to calm down and relax, standing, looking around the small but well-furnished cabin. I used my feet to open the various drawers in the kitchen in hopes of finding something to break out of the cuffs, not finding anything useful, sighing in frustration.

I glanced outside the window, seeing a shed behind the cabin, walking outside toward the shed, walking inside, finding a clew of construction tools, including a vice. I sighed in both relief and annoyance at the effort it would take to break through the cuffs, arranging two cinder blocks on the floor to stand on so my hands would be level with the vice, slowly using my bound hands to turn the stile to widen the vice enough to use it to make the cuff wider, allowing me to slide my hand through it and free myself, though it caused me a great deal of pain to do so.

        ~~~~~~~   

I still had the handcuffs bound to one wrist, but otherwise been unrestrained, walking into the cabin, looking at Martha's reflection in the mirror. I noticed the huge gash on the forehead and a bruise blossoming around the right eye, concerned, seeing a roll of duct tape, ripping off two pieces, grabbing a spoon to use as a splint, wrapping the smaller piece around my right thumb and the round end of the spoon before wrapping a bigger piece of tape to secure the spoon on my wrist wrist, bracing my injured hand from pulling it out of the handcuff.

I walked over to the nearby landline telephone, picking up, groaning in frustration when I realized there was no dial tone, putting it back in the cradle, searching through the cabin, starting with the fridge, which was empty. I tried to turn on the faucets, but there was no running water, becoming even more frustrated when I found that there was no electricity, either.

Outside, I found a truck in the car park next to the cabin, looking behind it, finding generator, walking toward it in relief, unscrewing the cap on the top, peering inside to find that there was gasoline inside of it. "Oh, thank God."

I pulled the cord to start it several times, each one of them failing, but finally managing to get it to start, laughing in relief, walking inside, testing the generator, finding that the lights would now turn on when I flipped the light switch by the door. 

The small, old TV on a nearby dresser also turned on, though the screen showed nothing but static.

I adjusted the antenna on top, flipping through the channels until I finally found one that would decently come in, which, fortunately for me, was also a news station that was currently in the middle of reporting breaking news.

"For more on this story as it breaks, stay tuned. The latest from Arkansas, where, in the middle of an extreme weather warning, a manhunt is underway near the Ouachita National Forest. Martha Hammond has fled authorities after allegedly causing a major accident on Route 70."

The police officer that had tried arrest me the night before appeared on the screen. "Suspect has a previous DUI. We don't expect her to get too far. She's a known drunk. With her medical history, if the cold doesn't take her down, I'm betting detox will." I lifted up my/Martha's hand, which was beginning to shake due to tremors from alcohol and drug withdrawal. On the top of Martha's hand, between the index finger and thumb, was a blue-black tattoo of an anchor. "But, we've got our best men on it, so people should just stay calm and report any suspicious activities. We're also taking volunteers to work our phone bank, so if you're interested, please contact the Glenwood YMCA and lend us a hand. Thank you."

The news report cut back to the broadcaster, who wrapped up the story with a photo of Martha Hammond in the background. "Hammond, a former merchant Marine, has been working or a charter bus company. They have yet to release a statement. But, as news of Hammond's substance abuse continues to unfold..."

I couldn't take it anymore, turning off the TV.

        ~~~~~~~   

I was outside the cabin, in the truck, trying to start it by hot-wiring it. "Oh, of course. Of course I'm stuck in the body of an addict. Didn't need a damn hell stone to hammer that irony home, did we, Martha? You know, Martha, I spent the last three years knowing my life span was tied to Rayna's. After the initial shock wore off, I actually started to enjoy it. I had an expiration date. That's a close to being human as I was ever gonna get. I used to hate being a vampire. Sometimes I still do. But now, being human again in your dead body, it's actually making me appreciate being a vampire more." I tried to start the car, but the engine wouldn't turn over. "Ah, come on. Come on!" The engine finally started. I smiled in relief. "Yes. Yes! Suck on that you miserable drunk."

        ~~~~~~~   

I was driving, running out of gas, forcing to pull over at the side of the road.

A woman was in the middle of changing a flat tire ahead of me.

I got out of the car, walking closer. "Excuse me, miss? Do you know where we are?"

"Are you lost?" the woman asked.

"Yeah," I answered. "And out of gas. And naturally unlucky. Do you mind if I borrow your phone? It's just one quick call."

The woman hesitated for a moment, walking toward the front of her car, getting in. "Hang on."

I heard the radio. "The woman is considered dangerous. Residents in and around Ouachita are advised to report any suspicious activity."

The woman realized who I was, or the body I was in, starting to panic and close the door.

I wedged myself in between the door and the inside of the car to stop her.

"Get away from me!" the woman told me.

"I just need to use your phone," I told her. "Please."

The woman elbowed me in the face, making me stumble back, closing the door, speeding away.

I was devastated and defeated.

Snowflakes started to fall, indicating that the blizzard was about to start.

Florence's vampire soul had only survived in Jo's dead body for a few days.

If my vampire soul didn't get out of this human dead body soon, I would die for good.

        ~~~~~~~   

I just used up the last of the gas in the truck to keep the cab heated, groaning in pain when the cold started to seep back in.

The snow was falling even harder now.

I tried to roll up the windows, only for the turnstile to break off in my hands. I looked into the side view mirror, seeing I was pale and weak, sick, shaking both from withdrawal and from the beginning of hypothermia.

Tyler appeared in the passenger seat next to me. "Didn't think that one through, did you, Nikki? What do you say we get out of here, get you back in your own body? Let's go." I looked at him in shock. Tyler gave me a look. "What? What's wrong?"

"This," I answered. "You. If you're here, then I'm safe. I'm gonna be okay." I looked away, tears in my eyes. "But if you're a hallucination, then I've entered the delirium phase of my withdrawal, which means I am officially and royally screwed."

I looked at the passenger seat.

Tyler had vanished.

I nearly broke down in tears, starting to feel sick, gagging, opening the door, getting out of the car, vomiting blood into the snow. I was so weak that I tumbled out of the car completely, landing on my hands and knees in the snow. I sighed, closing my eyes, sitting down, leaning back against the side of the truck, closing my eyes.

It was below freezing by now, and I had nowhere to go. 

I was going to die.

        ~~~~~~~   

I was dozing off against the truck, hearing the sound of a cellphone ringing nearby, looking around, seeing a patch of snow was glowing, desperately crawling over to it pick up the phone, having not realized that the woman had dropped it during the struggle earlier. I answered the phone. "Hello?"

Damon's voice was on the other line. "Wow. Martha's voice is, uh, huskier than I imagined."

I was both relieved and annoyed to hear his voice. "Damon?"

"Yeah," Damon answered. "And Stefan's with me. We teamed up with Tyler and Sarah to look for you in this blizzard. In case you didn't know, the road you're on, Route 274, is a long drive, and we needed to cover more ground to find you fast. Sure picked a great night to get lost in the woods."

"Yeah, well, at least I'm starting to warm up. Which, in case you didn't know, is a bad sign."

"You gotta move, okay?" Stefan asked in concern. "Just pick a direction, start walking."

I shook my head weakly. "I can't. I can't even feel my legs. At this point, I can't tell if the tremors are from my withdrawal or from me freezing to death."

"Nikki, just get up," Damon told me in frustration. "This is not how you are going to die, Nicola Salvatore."

I couldn't help but chuckle weakly, sniffling. "Alone in the wilderness, trapping in the frozen corpse of an alcoholic murderer? Uh, I know know. Seems kind of fitting to m."

"Come on," Stefan told me. "Give us something to work with here."

"Day late and a dollar short. You two suck at playing heroes."

"Well, we should be used to you being such a damsel in distress, but you're usually the one that turns around and saves our asses even when you're the one that's dying," Damon told me.

"Should I list all the ways in which this mess is your fault?"

"Sure, Nikki," Stefan told me. "Go for it. We're not doing anything important right now."

"You bailed on me."

"Listen, Valerie and I were literally just about to do the transfer spell," Stefan told me.

"Even before that. Damon bailed on me when he decided he'd rather live in a coffin than own up to his mistakes."

"No, no, no," Damon told me. "I was trying to prevent myself from making mistakes, Nicola."

"And why is that so hard for you, Damon? Don't say Elena. You lived 160 years before you met her. I got ripped out of hell and thrown into a dead woman's body, and do you know what my first thought was when I came to? 'I need to save those people on the bus'. I didn't know who I was, I didn't know where I was... it was my instinct. What are your instincts, guys? What do the voices in your heads say?"

"What are you talking about?" Stefan asked.

"I'm talking about you, too, Stef. After Damon and Bonnie died and went to the prison world, after Damon turned me into a vampire, you left Mystic Falls. You left me, you left Caroline, you left everyone to start a new life because you couldn't handle the loss of your brother. You left me when I needed you the most. And before that, when you traded your life for Damon's when you left town with Klaus, you were gone for months on end, when I was sick and dying, and neither one of you knew. You were pretending to have your humanity off because you couldn't deal with the pain while I was dying from cancer. And that's just all the times that you abandoned me. What about all the times that you hurt me yourselves, or the times that people hurt me to get to you? And don't even get me started on Sarah and the hex."

"You want us to say what we all already know?" Damon asked. "Fine. We're selfish. We're angry. We're impatient. We do stupid things when we should be doing the right things. We abandon the ones that we care about when they need us most because we're too busy dealing with our own problems."

I rolled my eyes. "Me included."

"You included," Stefan agreed sadly, guiltily. "You mad?"

I had tears in my eyes. "Yes."

"You resent us?" Stefan asked.

I started to cry. "Yes."

"Good," Stefan told me. "Then get up and come kick our asses yourself." I took a deep breath, struggling to pull myself up to my feet, groaning in pain, using anger, determination and compassion to keep me going, breathing heavily from the effort. "Nicola?"

I slowly started to put one foot in front of the other to make my way down the road, breathing heavily. "I'm walking. You want to know why this is so hard?"

"Because Martha Hammond is a total train-wreck?" Damon asked.

I sighed. "Because eventually, I'm not going to be able to go on. And when that happens, I don't believe you'll be there."

I continued to cry silently, hanging up, continuing to slowly limp down the road.

        ~~~~~~~   

I was still walking, limping down the road. I was hit with a coughing fit so strong I fell to my knees, continuing to cough and gasp for breath. I breathed heavily, unable to go on, falling unconscious.

        ~~~~~~~   

I woke up in the backseat of a car, looking around in confusion, sitting up. I saw Sarah and Tyler in the front seats, looking at them in relief. "Sarah. Tyler." They looked at me in relief when they saw that I was awake, seeming a little in shock and unnerved. "What's wrong?"

Sarah shook off her initial shock. "Nothing. It's all very normal."

Sarah took out a box of donuts, holding them toward me.

"Are those..." I trailed off.

Tyler nodded. "Cop-approved." I took the box, opening it, starting to eat, moaning in pleasure at the first bite of food I had eaten since waking in Martha's body. "Ah, don't tell me you didn't appreciate the irony of this. You being human?"

"Well, safe to say I do not appreciate it at this particular moment," I told them.

"Tell me, though," Sarah told me. "What's the worst part about being human for you? Is it... frostbite? What is it?"

"How about the inability to compel people?" I asked.

Tyler nodded. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, that's a big one. Sucks having to play by the rules, doesn't it?"

"Well, I'm not saying that you deserved all of this, but you did compel me to stay out of Mystic Falls and tried to compel me to go back to Duke after you saved me from Rayna," Sarah told me.

"Yeah, yeah," I told them. I took a bite. "What do I miss most about being human? The ecstasy of eating this... incredibly crappy donut."

Sarah and Tyler chuckled.

"So, you're okay?" Tyler asked.

"For the moment," I answered.

"Stefan and Damon spent all this time trying to help us find you," Sarah told me. "Are they forgiven?"

I shook my head. "Not by a long shot."

Sarah and Tyler nodded in understanding.

I groaned in pain, blood dripping profusely from my nose, landing on one of the donuts in my lap. I reached up with my hand to try to staunch the blood flow.

Sarah looked at me in confused concern. "What is that?" 

"About that..." Tyler trailed off. "I'm afraid Martha's not gonna make it." He looked determined, driving down the road faster. "Buckle up. We have less than 48 hours to track down Nikki's real body."

I sighed, knowing that this was not gonna be good.