disclaimer: without prejudice. the names of all characters contained here-in are the property of the CW, Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. no infringments of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission. Sofia belongs exclusively to me.
characters: Klaus/Sofia (OC), implied Stefan/Rebekah, Gloria, Damon
author's notes: this is a story set during 3x03 (The End of the Affair) because it's the episode that turned me around on Klaus, he might be my favourite now :) it's meant to be a more introspective story into Klaus, with a little of my OC sprinkled on top. special thanks to my beta Inwenalas.
warning: two-parter. flashbacks and final scene are NOT chronological!
A CURSE BETWEEN US;;
part one
"Welcome back to Chicago, Stefan," he says as he climbs out of the car. Just like Stefan, he hasn't been back here since the 1920s. It smells different now, there's a putrid and vile undercurrent, nothing like it used to be. Back then the city was vibrant with beauty, filled with possibilities for all who came here. Including him.
"What are we doing here?" Stefan asks. That's all there is with him, this sea of questions, doubt. Klaus knows Stefan's still hung up on what he did to Elena, but not for long. Once he's through with Stefan, once he shows Stefan what he's been missing all these years, he won't want to go back to Mystic Falls.
"I know how much you loved it here," he says, and opens up one of the doors of the warehouse, revealing a starlit sky over a city filled with memories. He's never been back here because he had no need to remember her. But now that he's here, now that the necessity for him to be here has outweighed his reluctance to dwell on this particular part of his past, he'll open himself up to it. After all, Sofia's as much part of this story as Stefan. "Bringing back memories of the good old Ripper days."
"Blacked out most of them," Stefan says. There's that tone again, there's no respect, not unlike the first time they met. All of that will soon change; he'll make sure Stefan remembers the bond they forged here, once his business with Gloria is concluded. "Lot of blood, lot of partying," Stefan continues. "The details are all a blur."
"Well, that is a crying shame," he says, feeling a tinge of melancholy just thinking back. He wonders what it would be like, to have this huge gap in his memory, to not remember Stefan, to not remember Sofia. He wonders if he'd be any different. He wishes he hadn't now, compelled Stefan to forget, but circumstances had forced him to. He could never have predicted the Salvatore brothers would become such important players in his plan.
"The details are what makes it legend."
#
The details of the shadows, faint light seeping through the embroidered curtains, a delicately woven pattern now cast down on her silky white skin. Her body's veiled in a tasteful darkness, but his eyes see everything, the trio of freckles below her left breast, the soft curve her stomach makes just south of her bellybutton.
"You're beautiful," he says, watching her in fascination as she turns in the bed, settling on her stomach, head propped up on one arm.
"Getting sentimental, are we?" she says, lips sliding in that delicious smile he imagines prides every man that manages to coax it from her. Something tells him that despite her beauty and youthful lust not many men have earned that particular smile. He shouldn't feel it, he considers any sentimentality to be weakness to a vampire – something he knows he shares with Sofia – but he knows there's the same pride now reflected in the place he thinks his heart is.
"There's nothing sentimental about stating facts," he answers, brushing a loose strand of her hair out of the way. She chuckles lightly, shivering beneath his fingertips, a wake of goosebumps down her spine, even though the room is comfortably warm.
She's different with him, he noticed that the first moment they'd separated themselves from Stefan and Rebekah's play, something he believes Sofia considers just as tedious as he does. She's still devious and cunning, but where Stefan lives only on his instincts and does what his hunger dictates, Sofia demonstrates a remarkable level of control. Stefan's a child compared to her, even though she downplays her maturity in his presence. She shouldn't do that.
"Do you love Rebekah?" Sofia asks in the semi-interested register they've adopted.
"She's my sister," he answers, settling the tip of his index finger at the small of her back. "I care for her a great deal." He draws his nose over her smooth skin, tongue trailing back up her spine. He swears he can almost hear her purr. "Why?" he asks, planting a kiss between her shoulder blades, his body hovering over hers. "Do you not love your brothers?"
Sofia turns, completely naked beneath him. "Of course I do," she says. "With all my heart."
He wonders exactly how big her heart would be were she in his shoes; he got rid of most his siblings, but they'd never be gone forever. "But you were really asking if I'm capable of loving someone blindly." Sofia stares up at him, unrelenting, unashamed, no pretence or scruples between them. He thinks that if he stares into her eyes long enough he could find the wisdom of the ages.
He averts his eyes and lies down next to her, staring up at the ceiling. "If you've lived as long as I have, you learn the true values in life. Love isn't one of them."
"So," Sofia says, settling on her side. "Not incapable, just unwilling."
He turns his head to look at her. She really is beautiful, still that faint post-coital glow in her cheeks. "Not unlike yourself."
Now it's Sofia who averts her eyes, a sadness in her face all of a sudden. She turns and sits up, her back turned to him. He doesn't understand where it comes from, this profound sadness within her. Why does she not rejoice in this life when her previous one was one of weakness and dependency? It only strikes him then. She's never known love. "I saw what love did to my brothers," she says, her voice sad as well. "It destroyed them. I decided long ago I'd never make that mistake."
Always the strong one, a quality she must have transferred from her human life, otherwise it wouldn't be so pronounced in this one. But if she's never known love, how can she know it would destroy her? How is she so certain she'd let anyone break her heart? It's then that he realizes that the answer lies in the 'unwilling' part – it became a trait of his by necessity, a decision to protect his heart above all else. Hers was a conscious choice to keep her heart out of sight, so that people wouldn't find it at all.
She's made herself appear heartless, so that no one ever dared to try and break it.
#
"Chicago was magical," he says, more for his own benefit than Stefan's at this point. He'd come here only to appease Rebekah, she'd fallen in love with the flapper fashion and lifestyle and everything else the Roaring Twenties would prove to be, and there's little indulgence he denied his sister. When it came to his own pleasure, well, he had his transgressions, bloody and often surprisingly delicious, but it was Rebekah who had the real adventures: drinking, dancing, hunting, falling in love. His sister did nothing half-speed.
He got bored most nights at exactly the same speed. Until he met Stefan and Sofia.
"Yeah, I'll take your word for it," Stefan says. "Like I said, I don't remember much of it."
Klaus sighs. "Down to business then." There was a time Stefan had great respect for him, at first because it made Sofia happy (and there's little indulgence Stefan didn't allow her), but once they got to know each other they formed a bond not unlike brothers shared.
He closes the door to the warehouse.
"Why am I still with you?" Stefan asks, following behind him. "We had our fun, your hybrids failed." It stings just to hear it again. "I mean, don't you wanna move on?"
Klaus snickers to himself, but doesn't let Stefan see it. Move on, he thinks, when breaking his curse was all he'd been working towards for a thousand years. He can't just move on. The sacrifice should have fixed him but all it did was send him in a tailspin of more hurt. Maybe coming back here will not only give him the answers he needs, but strengthen his resolve.
He turns and faces Stefan. "We're going to see my favourite witch," he says. "If anyone can help us with our hybrid problem, it's her."
#
"A hybrid?" Sofia's eyes go wide when he spins her his tale.
It's not surprising, most vampires treat his history with either disbelief or horror. Either they don't believe in the notion of an Original to begin with, or they don't believe in werewolves, or the thought of the First, the Original vampires makes them run for the hills. Not Stefan, he's fearless, a real Ripper. And Sofia, though not fearless, sees, he suspects, something in him not many have before. "You mean to say you're vampire and werewolf?"
She sits close to him at the bar, her eyes not releasing his. It's crowded, as it is most nights, and Rebekah and Stefan had disappeared into the night not long ago.
"The werewolf side is dormant," he says. "I'm cursed."
Sofia giggles.
"What's so funny?"
She shakes her head and looks at him. "Nothing," she says, chin resting in the palm of her hand, and she bites down on her bottom lip. "It's just—" She scoots closer to him, so close he can almost taste her, her fingers tiptoeing up his hand, which lays flat on top of the bar. "You intrigue me, Nik."
He smiles to himself, even though Sofia's proximity leaves him little privacy. She's a riddle to him, one he'd very much like to solve. But how long would that take? What dark secrets would that reveal? He might not like what he finds. "Please, sweet Sofia," he says. "I would love to hear what it is that intrigues you so much."
"You, Nik?" Sofia asks. "You do not love."
"I don't?" he asks, because he's gotten used to her roundabout way of getting to the truth of the matter. When he met her he'd believed her to be a thrill seeker just like her brother, but the more of these intimate moments they shared, these conversations, the more he's come to understand her as a creature completely independent of her brother, rational, and in control.
"You search for it, maybe," Sofia answers. "But what you want more than anything is kinship. Feel like you belong."
He wonders if it's her intention to hurt him, or get him to react to how painfully true her statement is. Stefan doesn't know, and Rebekah has never realized, but what he hates more than anything is being alone. "And what has made you so knowledgeable on the topic?" he asks, his own roundabout way of avoiding a straight answer. "Something tells me belonging has never been a particular problem of yours."
Sofia casts down her eyes. "I wasn't always a vampire," she says, speaking around a heavy-hearted concession. "I was weak as a human." She looks back up at him, defiant now, because she's never apologized for anything and he doubts she's about to start now. "I needed help getting out of bed, getting dressed. I couldn't even feed myself."
It hurts her to tell him this, he can tell, she's fighting back tears even though she's mastered a disguise for them. That's different from her brother; Stefan refuses to feel anything, Sofia feels everything but chooses what emotions to show. "And look at you now," he says, "Beautiful. Strong. Self-reliant." He can't tell if any of his words soothe her hurt. "How far you've come."
Sofia smiles. "Yet you're the one feeling sorry for yourself," she says, and she's not wrong. He chuckles, studying his drink evasively. Her hand travels up his arm. "You've had this life for so long," she says, moving even closer. He can taste her now, her breath on his lips. "Why do you choose to only see the downsides?"
"I am the only one of my kind," he answers, but doesn't move an inch. "I'm cursed." But upon hearing that word Sofia giggles again. "I'm glad that amuses you." He stares down his nearly empty glass.
"Not an easy feat, might I add," she jokes, and looks at him. But he can't bring himself to meet her eye again. "Are you blind as well as humourless?" she asks. What is she talking about, he thinks, is there something obvious he's missing here? He never thought she'd be the kind of person to make fun of his misery. "Look at where we are. We're on top of the world, Nik." She leans up against him. "Don't tell me the rush of fresh blood doesn't make you feel alive?" she whispers, her breath hot against his ear.
"What makes you think it does?" he asks, teasing now.
Sofia chuckles, perhaps she sees through his deceit. "Because you're still a vampire, after all."
#
"Looks familiar, doesn't it?" Klaus says when they enter Gloria's bar.
"Can't believe this place is still here," Stefan says.
"You gotta be kidding me," Gloria's voice sounds from across the room, the heels of her boots tapping rhythmically on the floorboards.
"So, a hybrid walks into a bar," he says. "Says the barmaid—"
"Stop," Gloria commands, and he smiles to himself. There are only a few people in this world he allows to talk to him like that. But Gloria's unique skillset had endeared her to him decades ago. "You may be invincible but that doesn't make you funny."
#
Sofia throws her head back and laughs so loud he's surprised not everyone in the place turns to look at her and Rebekah. For some reason he revels in it, more than he does when he sees it in Rebekah. But then Rebekah's his little sister. Sofia's something else entirely.
She's drunk now, on champagne and blood, much like Rebekah.
Stefan and him make their way to their sisters. "And what are we talking about?" Stefan asks, sitting down across from Sofia and Rebekah right alongside him.
"Nothing." Rebekah smiles wide. "Just exchanging stories."
"Is that so?" Klaus asks. Rebekah knows he doesn't like it when she reveals their secrets to outsiders. He's aware he's told Sofia his fair share of details about his curse and how to undo it, but that's as far as it went. How much has Rebekah told Sofia? How much has Sofia asked of Rebekah? Sofia's smart for her age, she could make connections others might not.
"Do not worry, brother," Rebekah says. "All your secrets are safe."
"Stefan's on the other hand—" Sofia adds.
Stefan frowns, but still seems greatly amused by this turn of events. "What?" he asks, growing more uncertain of himself once he sees Sofia and Rebekah exchanging conspiratorial smiles. And then they both break out in laughter, drunk, ecstatic.
"Don't let it get to you, Stefan," Klaus says, placing a comforting hand on Stefan's shoulder. "Things like these are inevitable." But he knows it's only become inevitable because he chose to involve himself with Sofia. Was that a mistake?
"Now, boys, if you'll excuse us," Rebekah says while Sofia and her get up. "It's girls-only tonight," she smiles down at Stefan, and presses a kiss to his lips, before taking Sofia by the hand and disappearing off into the night. He doesn't know why, but there's a sudden worry nagging at him.
#
"Stefan, why don't you go and fix us up a little something from behind the bar?" Klaus asks, his eyes not releasing Gloria. There's a caution in her composure, not unlike there is in most of the witches he employs. But there's something more now. It's almost as if she knew he was coming, and last time he checked Gloria was no psychic.
"Yeah, sure thing," Stefan says, and leaves them to their business, even though something tells him Stefan will be listening in on their conversation.
"You look ravishing, by the way," Klaus says, and sits down across from Gloria.
"Don't," she says. "I know why you're here. A hybrid out to make more hybrids. Kinda news travels."
Travels? he wonders, where could Gloria have picked up that news? He knows he hasn't been careful about where he leaves bodies, but he's certain he hasn't left a great many witnesses. "So what am I doing wrong?" he asks. "I broke the curse."
"Obviously you did something wrong." Klaus sighs; he didn't come here so Gloria could point out his mistakes, he's here for answers. "Look, every spell has a loophole," Gloria continues, "but a curse that old, we'd need to contact the witch that created it."
It cuts through him like a razorblade. Everything to do with his curse comes back to her. "Well, that would be the original witch," he says, and sees his mother's face flash vividly in front of his eyes. "She's very dead."
"Bring me Rebekah," Gloria says. He laughs to himself. Of course, because after everything he's already accomplished there are still hoops he has to jump through to get what he really wants. Waking up Rebekah won't be difficult. Handling Rebekah once she wakes up, well, that's a different story. "She has what I need. Bring her to me."
"What is this?" Stefan suddenly calls out from across the room. Klaus smiles to himself. Finally, he thinks, now we're getting somewhere.
"I told you, Stefan." He gets up from his chair and walks the distance to Stefan. "Chicago is a magical place."
"But this is me," Stefan says, sheer panic in his eyes, and he holds up the picture he just ripped from the wall. A picture of himself and Stefan, best friends, a long time ago. "With you."
#
He hasn't felt this in such a long time, the love between brothers, the camaraderie, just as he once shared with Elijah and Henrik. What he wouldn't give to have that again, that kinship as Sofia had described it, but he knows that after everything, after all these years, it'll never be the same. And he can't stay in Chicago forever.
"Hey, buddy," Stefan calls out to the club photographer. "Take a picture of my brother and me."
Him and Stefan turn, and smile for the camera, and break out in laughter right after the flash.
"Your brother?" Sofia approaches them, probably having overheard at least part of their conversation. "Stefan, I'm shocked," she jokes.
Stefan pulls Sofia closer to him. "Do you want on the picture too?" he teases, and kisses her temple.
"I'm bored," she says, hugging Stefan around the waist.
"That must be remedied immediately," Stefan says, and looks at him. "Klaus?" Stefan asks, making sure that leaving him now won't put a damper on his fun.
"By all means," Klaus says, motioning his consent to both his friends. Who's he to stand in the way of Sofia's fun? And who's he to keep Stefan from making his sister happy?
Sofia giggles and skips over to him. "Don't think this gets you out of a dance," she says, her green eyes set alight with mischief. Before he knows what's happening she presses a kiss to his lips – maybe she thinks she can get away with it because he's drunk, and that's really the only reason he lets her. He's grown fond of her, but he's not in love.
Sofia's young, in time she'll learn how absurd it is to even try to will herself into his heart.
#
After they leave the bar Stefan's questions don't end. He can't blame him, after all, his memories are locked away behind his compulsion so this must come as quite a shock. "This doesn't make any sense," Stefan says. "Why don't I remember you?"
"You said yourself that time had a lot of dark holes," Klaus answers, knowing there are far more gaps in Stefan's memory than he put there because of his older ripper lifestyle.
"No, if you knew me, then why haven't you said anything?" Another question, another demand.
"I'm a little busy right now," he answers. He can't think about Stefan's problems right now, he has quite a few of his own he needs to fix first. Remembering the good old days is great fun, but not that important compared to what he came here to do.
But when Stefan grabs him by the arm he knows Stefan won't take silence for an answer. "What the hell is going on?" he asks. He thinks Stefan should praise himself lucky he's somewhat in his good graces. "Answer me," Stefan commands.
He removes Stefan's hand from his arm. "Let's just say we didn't get off to a brilliant start," he says. "To be honest, I hated you."
#
Some nights he grows so bored he can't even be bothered to go out for a bite, but instead just wants to go back to the hotel room he'd booked upon arriving in Chicago. Rebekah drags him here most nights, and he follows her because he can't stand the thought of not knowing where she is at any given time. It's too risky not to know.
When he finds Rebekah sharing a young woman with who he assumes is Stefan Salvatore, he can only think one thing: to get out of there before anyone sees them. Rebekah should know better than to do this in public, even with her compulsion it's too risky. "It's late, Rebekah," he says, dragging his sister away from her helpless victim. "We're leaving."
"Get off me!" she says, and breaks free from his hold, retreating back towards Stefan.
"Who is this guy?" Stefan asks.
"Stefan, don't," Rebekah says, holding him back. "He'll kill you. Nik's a lot stronger than he looks."
"So this is the famous Stefan Salvatore I've been hearing so much about," Klaus says, regarding the younger man with a feeling not unlike disdain. "You're right, he does have funny hair," he jokes, but that sentiment gives way for an all too familiar one. "I'm bored, I wanna go."
"Then go without me, I'm not your girlfriend," Rebekah sneers.
"No, you're my sister." He takes her by the arm again, forcefully, pulling her towards him. "Which means you have to do as I say."
#
"Your sister," Stefan says. "So I knew another Original vampire." He shrugs, but Klaus can tell he's struggling to wrap his head around all of it.
"If you can't handle it then don't ask," he says. They're back at the warehouse; the guards have already readied Rebekah's coffin. He opens the lid, and stares down at his little sister, dead inside her resting place these past ninety years. He knows he did what he had to do to keep them moving, but Rebekah will never see it that way.
His little sister, who couldn't help falling in love, who was ready to stop running to spend whatever time she deemed necessary with Stefan. There's only a small part of him that regrets what he did to her.
Stefan joins him at his side. "I don't recognize her," he says.
"Don't tell her that. Rebekah's temper's worse than mine." He pulls the dagger out of Rebekah's chest. "Time to wake up, little sister."
He turns and looks at Stefan. "Would this be a good time to mention your sister and I got off to a much better start?" Klaus asks, feeling a smile creep to the corner of his mouth beyond his control. He never thought this would be so much fun, unravelling the mystery of Stefan's memories, just like he once hoped to unravel Sofia in many more ways.
Stefan frowns. "Sofia?" he asks. He's surprised to hear Stefan say her name at all; in the three months they've spent together Stefan hasn't mentioned her once. Maybe he'll ask him later why that is, maybe not. "What does she have to do with this?"
"I was about ready to rip your throat out that night," he answers. " Until she stepped in."
#
"Boys, please," a young woman inserts herself between him and his sister's newest beau. "You're making a scene," she says, putting a hand on Stefan's chest, but turning her head to look at him. "Why don't we have a nice quiet sit-down and have one last drink?"
He looks her up and down, letting his eyes linger longer than is needed. "And who might you be, love?" he asks.
She smiles wide. "Most surely not your love," she answers. Her hair's styled not unlike Rebekah's, except it's the same brown as Stefan's, her eyes a sloppy green, and her dress the most exquisitely tailored frock he's seen since his own sister's collection of them. He knows Stefan Salvatore has money.
The young Mr Salvatore wraps his arms around the stunning brunette from behind, and she leans back against him. He can't help but wonder if Rebekah has already made her acquaintance. "This is my baby sister Sofia," Stefan says. "Sis, this is Nik and Rebekah."
"Original vampires," Sofia Salvatore says, a glint of excitement in her eyes. "It's an honour."
Klaus feels something in him mellow instantly, young Sofia's voice holds such reverie that he forgets all about Stefan. "See, Rebekah," he says, and takes a step closer to Sofia. "Respect. That's all I ask." Sofia smiles and bites down on her lip when he takes her hand and kisses it. "Sofia."
#
"Sweet Sofia," he says, relishing in his memories of her. He thought about her even after they parted, only sometimes, because after Chicago he was forced to go find his brother Elijah and ask him for help. Sofia had little room in his life after that. "There's a girl who knew how to leave an impression."
Stefan frowns to himself, clearly struggling with this fresh piece of information. He was always so protective of Sofia, as any brother would be. If only Stefan knew the things he'd done to her when he left Sofia alone with him. "She never—" Stefan shakes his head, "She never said anything."
Klaus smiles. "I wonder why that is." He doesn't mean it the way he makes it sound, because it doesn't make much sense. Sofia never owed him anything.
"So now, you're, what?" Stefan asks and shrugs, trying to retain what composure he has left. "You're saying you know my sister better than I do?"
"When it comes to this particular part of your past?" He thinks it through longer than he needs to; there's probably a whole lot he knows about Sofia that Stefan never even considered. The way she feels about Katerina, the way she feels about Damon and even Stefan. The way she relishes in this life unlike either of her brothers. "Yes," he adds.
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