TITLE: Crooked Paths

SUMMARY: Begins after "The House Guest" and runs distantly parallel through "As I Lay Dying". Katherine's secret dealings with John and Isobel bring werewolves into the mix and it isn't long before Elena is turning to Elijah for help to kill Klaus and save everyone she loves. Will Katherine help too as she begins to realize just how much a certain Salvatore means to her? Eventual Katherine/Damon and Elena/Elijah, with fair amounts of Damon/Elena, Elijah/Katherine, and Stefan/Caroline (particularly in later chapters).

DISCLAIMER: These characters, their story, etc. not mine, etc. etc. etc.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: My focus is on Katherine and Damon's relationship and Elena and Elijah's relationship with the plot about killing Klaus and the werewolves serving as a background and driving force. I'm integrating some major events from the show to keep the story relevant, but it does not run perfectly parallel. Reviews are food for my soul. It doesn't take long, and it means so much to us writers. You have no idea what the encouragement means to me, especially when writing for two niche pairings like D/K and E/E. Also, I'm open to suggestions, so feel free. And I encourage critique of my writing: how can I get better if I don't know what I'm failing at?

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CHAPTER 1 - Doorways

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Elena had told Stefan that she would get the blood for him without even thinking of what was down there. Even though it was his house, it was in her nature to provide comfort, be it to appease heartbreak or hunger. She felt so useless and weak: this, at least, was something she could do.

She had begun to feel at home there, too: she found the roaring fires, the antique furniture, the dust, all reassuring. At least she used to. With Katherine there, something was different. Elena didn't feel less welcome, exactly… (Even though every time Elena passed by Katherine she felt two eyes – of identical color and traits to her own – turned on her in loathing, and that tended to make one feel like they ought to stay away.) But it wasn't that. She felt…alienated from the house. She thought of the years that Stefan and Damon had spent building it, decorating it, making it their own, and how Katherine had been in their every thought and breath as they'd done it.

Stefan and Damon were intensely debating the current situation – why was Katherine here, why was Isobel here, why as John here, and what did they want? Where was Klaus, how powerful was he, how could he be killed, tricked, weakened, baited, frightened away…? Every other sentence passed back and forth between the brothers was tinted with remonstration, criticism, or insult, and yet Elena felt their intimacy like a wall excluding her. She couldn't get a word in. It didn't really matter: she had nothing to add. Every few seconds one of them would look over at her, as if to include her, but it was a superficial gesture.

So, she thought that Stefan might be hungry, and offered to get him some blood.

But she forgot about Elijah.

The dispute over what to do with the body had never been concluded. Burial and the tomb had both been suggested, but it was Elena herself who objected most vehemently. She was simultaneously terrified that he might be rescued, and that he would then wreak bloody havoc on her and her loved ones; and strangely reassured by the idea that he was near and wanted to kill Klaus too. She found herself imagining pulling out the dagger and seeing him come back, without corrupting the vision with worries about what precipitated such an action, and what would come after.

It was only as her foot hit the basement floor that she remembered he was down there. She tiptoed slowly past the open door – why was it always left open? – and couldn't help but look. Even under the charred clothing and veined, ashen skin she recognized the figure who had caused her so much horror. Her three brushes with him before the deal was made were three of the scariest moments of her entire life. They didn't compare to her parents dying, or what Damon had done to Jeremy, or watching Jenna stab herself, and yet she was still haunted by his series of sudden, bloody appearances and that jolt of fright that shocked her heart and then rang every one of her bones when she first would see him.

She was burdened by one other emotional response, perhaps irrational: guilt. Threats had been thrown around, and a menace his very presence produced, but ultimately, all he had done was save her from Klaus' minions, get Stefan out of the tomb, and save Damon, Stefan, and Caroline from werewolves. He had made a deal with her which he intended to keep – two in fact – and he had been killed twice for it.

It didn't sit well with her. Stefan and Damon and whoever else wanted to could list reasons why it had to be done from sun up to sun down and she would agree with every one, but it still just didn't sit right with her.

And Elijah had dealt with her. Her. He hadn't gone to Damon, or Stefan, or Jeremy, or anyone other than her. How was it that the most powerful being she had ever met was the one who made her feel the most in control?

She grabbed the blood quickly, and then ran back to the stairs and up.

Damon and Stefan asked her what was up when she reached them – they had heard her run – but she shrugged it off.

It was nothing.

Stefan and Damon had sent Katherine to get more blood. Between the three of them and Caroline, it was going quickly. Katherine knew she was being gotten rid of so that they could talk behind her back, but she did not seem to mind and complied without anything but a sly look. Damon had sent Caroline to stand outside as a sentry, on the alert for anyone who might be trying to listen in.

But it didn't matter. Stefan and Damon didn't have anything to say that would surprise anybody. Their one prized secret was the location of the witch massacre, which was largely pointless. Elijah's plan to kill Klaus using witches wielding the power of the massacre site still required the ancient vampire to be weakened after the sacrifice, which meant that Elena died in that plan, which meant that plan was unacceptable. Without more powerful witches, perhaps it was even unviable. Bonnie had taken time to explore the site and the Martins' grimoires, but even Jonas' final message to her wasn't enough to guide her to the solution to their Klaus problems.

The dagger was the only other option that they knew of…also far from ideal.

It felt like square one.

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Katherine sat down at the table and crossed her arms. "Do I need to stab you again?" she asked, staring John Gilbert down.

She glanced around the bar as if waiting for a window of opportunity to do violence to him without being seen.

He took her threat in stride. "What have I done this time?" he asked innocently.

"Same thing as last time. I told you I would get rid of Damon and Stefan. You killing them in not a part of our deal."

"We assumed you wanted out of the tomb more than you wanted him alive," Isobel responded calmly. It was a challenge.

Katherine steadied her eyes on her descendant. "I did."

"Then let's move on," John suggested. He leaned back in his chair, relaxed. "We sacrificed the dagger to get you out of the tomb. You assured us it would be worth it."

Katherine was boiling at his arrogance and familiarity, but she suppressed her anger. "It'll be worth it. Elijah didn't care about your daughter, but I've promised you that she'll live. It's me you want."

"We know that," Isobel reassured Katherine, dashing John a look of warning.

"I take it from what Elena has said that Aunt Jenna now knows all," Katherine prodded. She picked up the menu from the table and began to peruse it.

"She took it pretty well, considering," Isobel responded, smirking.

"Are you going to eat?" John asked, surprised.

Katherine lifted her head over the top of the menu to look at him. "Why the hell not? Damon and Stefan haven't been to the grocery store in months. I don't know what Elena does for breakfast…" she taunted.

"I don't want anyone wondering where I am," John informed her. "Let's get on with this."

Katherine set down the menu. "Fine. How was your trip abroad?" she asked Isobel. "Was it successful?"

Isobel nodded. "Rumors of a living doppelganger have spread all the way across the globe. At least a handful of the vampire communities I spoke with were aware of Klaus' mission and knew full well the importance of the doppelganger should she actually exist. None, however, could even point a finger towards North America."

Katherine nodded, satisfied. "Good."

"I hinted at the existence of branches of the Petrova line in Sophia, Johannesburg, and London, while pretending to inadvertently suggest my own belief that the doppelganger was actually in Buenos Aires or Sydney." She shrugged. "I don't know how long these misdirections will work."

"And Klaus?"

"No one knew where he was. A few had heard that he was living in the south of France, but they were clearly not privy to anything worth knowing."

The elder vampire shook her head. "Klaus hates hot, dry weather. He would never settle permanently in southern France."

"Fortunately, we don't need to rely on hearsay," John took over.

Katherine lifted her eyebrows. "Spit it out, John."

"I have a meeting with the Alpha in a few days."

"The Alpha?"

He smiled smugly. "You'd be surprised where not being a vampire can get you."

"What did you have to promise the leader of all the werewolves in order to get a meeting with him?"

"He claims to know where Klaus is."

Katherine leaned forward. "And you promised him what?"

"I promised him nothing," John defended. "I may have hinted that I knew the location of the moonstone."

"You said nothing about the doppelganger?"

John was offended. "Of course not."

"He got more than the meeting," Isobel added. "Tell her, John."

"In the chronicles kept by the werewolves, there is a record of a werewolf killing an Original. Moscow, 1746."

"Mikhail," Katherine surmised. "Killed by a werewolf…" she mused.

"He killed the werewolf after receiving the bite. He rampaged for two days before wasting away to nothing. That's what's in the chronicles."

"Is it true?" Isobel asked. "It could be werewolf propaganda. It would be to the benefit of the werewolves to exaggerate their abilities in such a way."

"It's true," Katherine replied. "I know, because I've heard nothing about it. Klaus has kept it a secret. It explains why he instigated the werewolf purge a few years later. That's what drove the Lockwoods to the colonies." She tilted her head and prodded: "I saw nothing about the Alpha in your ancestor's journals."

John nodded. "It's remarkable how much he found out about the Originals, and how little he found out about werewolves considering the fact that one lived a few houses away from him."

Katherine was visibly annoyed by John's avoidance.

Isobel stepped in: "John encountered some werewolves during his investigations in London. He earned their trust. They were much more connected than the Lockwoods, or even Mason Lockwood's pack down in Florida. They told him about the Alpha."

"Where is he?"

"A compound north of Juneau."

"Have you been there?" Katherine demanded.

John shook his head. "I don't know anything about it: how big it is, what's its defenses are, how many wolves are there. All I had was a phone number. I didn't speak to the Alpha directly: I'm pretty sure my message was rerouted several times."

"Well, I trust you'll come back with this information. Promise him anything," Katherine said. "Just get Klaus' location."

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Jenna was furious with everyone, but she knew that if Elena really was in danger, then she couldn't just push them all away. She tolerated Alaric to stand next to her, but he knew she was miles away from even considering forgiveness. No matter how frightened she was, she couldn't just forget the lies.

Jenna didn't think it was possible to hate John anymore than she already did, but lo and behold... She just wanted to scream "Get the fuck out of my house", but his presence made her feel safer, like he actually knew what the hell was going on and was doing something about it.

That didn't mean she had to talk to him. She crossed her arms and left the kitchen as John arrived home.

"Where were you?" Alaric pressed.

John took a few steps forward, as if to intimidate Alaric, but then he turned and pulled a beer out of the fridge. "I was with Isobel."

Alaric had yet to see his undead wife since she had returned. He glared. "Is that right? Are you hoping someday she'll actually love you?"

John shrugged. "I don't know. Are you hoping someday you'll date someone I didn't date first?"

Alaric shifted uncomfortably. "This is stupid. We care about all of the same people. We should be working together. I gave you your ring back, didn't I?" Alaric hated that he was the one reaching out to John, but he was a peaceable person and there was enough strife in that household already.

John took a long sip out of the bottle and then set it down at the counter. He regarded Alaric pointedly. "The way I see it, Ric, you don't have a lot to live for. You teach high school history. You have no family. No real friends."

Alaric stood erect. "What the hell are you trying to say?" he demanded.

"Relax. I'm trying to ask you a question." John leaned in conspiratorially. "If I told you to pack Jenna, Jeremy, and Elena in a car and get the fuck out of dodge, would you do it?"

Alaric didn't relax, but his reaction softened. John was lacking in social graces, but he wasn't insulting him, he was investing him with the most important responsibility in the world: the care of his family.

He didn't think, he answered: "Yes." He paused. "I'd do it. But I'd rather it was Stefan or Damon telling me to run."

"Ah, yes. Stefan and Damon. Because they've done such a spectacular job so far."

"Elijah's dead."

"Killed by a dagger and ash I found."

"You said Isobel found it."

"Yes, well, that was a lie. But that's not the discussion I want to have right now."

"Do you know something they don't know?"

"I know lots of things they don't know. Isobel and I have had a much more open dialogue with Katherine than the Salvatores have."

Alaric narrowed his eyes. "You're working with Katherine."

"No. But we had an arrangement before."

"Before she stabbed you, you mean."

"When Katherine makes a point, she makes a point."

"With something pointy," Alaric shot back.

John didn't think that was particularly clever. "What I'm trying to say is that I'm the father of the doppelganger, and protecting Mystic Falls is my family's legacy. I'm involved. If Elena's location ever becomes compromised, then she needs to run. We can't mount a fight against Klaus head-on, and she would be of no use even if we did. If he's coming for us, then she runs. But I can't run with her. I need to stay here and eliminate the threat. So I need someone that will go with her, and will take Jenna and Jeremy as well. I'm asking if that's you."

Alaric nodded. "It's me. They'll put up a hell of a fight, though."

Regret washed over John's face. "All the more reason for it to be you…and not me."

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Damon was woken by the sound of the glass of his bedroom window shattering.

There was already a wolf standing on the edge of his palatially large bed before Damon had waded through the fogginess of sleep and got himself oriented. It must have jumped all the way from the lawn.

It. She. Jules. It looked just like Jules. But it was impossible. It wasn't a full moon. It wasn't even night – it was morning.

How?

What had happened?

He felt something move beside him – another wolf? But he didn't have time to even look because Jules growled, baring all of her toxic teeth, and then leapt at his neck. He extricated himself from the sheets and ran across the room, just in time to hear Elena cry out "no" and dive over to be where he had just been. Realizing that Elena was in danger, he launched himself at the wolf, but it was too late: she sank her fangs into Elena's side and then jumped back out the window just as Damon dashed towards her.

The bitch was fast.

Elena moaned, and rolled on to her back, exposing her naked breasts amidst all of the blood.

She would be fine. She was human. She just needed some of his blood. Just some of his blood, he mumbled to himself in frenzy.

He lifted the underside of his wrist up to his mouth, but then he looked at her face.

The red corneas, the veins around the eyes.

It wasn't Elena. It was Katherine.

The bite was healing. She sat up, unabashed of her nakedness. A single tear running down her cheek.

He was in shock. Frozen.

She put her hand on his cheek. "I love you, Damon," she said softly. "I've always loved you."

His eyes were going every which way in chaotic panic. He reached down and touched the healed bite. He knew better, of course. He shook his head in denial. "We'll figure something out. I won't fail this time." He gathered up the sheet to wrap around her and drew her into his arms.

But he was interrupted by a laughing.

Almost a cackling.

Resounding through his ears but coming from nowhere.

And then he woke up. On the sofa, downstairs. It was night, and Katherine was snuggling up against his chest.

Laughing.

He had been waiting for her to return with the blood, and he had fallen asleep on the couch.

She leapt off of him before he could push her off, and walked out of the room, still laughing. She stopped in the doorframe and turned back to look at him. "That was a challenge. You've been taking vervain, and drinking blood right from the succulent source, haven't you?"

He didn't answer.

She shrugged. "I guess it still wasn't enough," she mused, finally exiting.

Damon fell back against the armrest with a sigh.

He remained there for a second, unsure of how to retaliate. Something had to be done; he couldn't allow her think that she had unsettled him. He couldn't allow her to think that she would get away with her head games.

Damon sped up the stairs and blocked her entry into the bedroom she had chosen.

"If you're here to take me up on my offer from the other night," she hissed, "then you should know it has been rescinded." She inclined her head towards him. "On the other hand, I'd be happy to keep fucking with your mind."

Gripping the door frame, he fortified his position. "Don't you get it, Katherine? I don't want you anymore. How many times do I have to throw you out of my bedroom or try to kill you in order for you to get that?"

Katherine snickered in her skeptical, condescending way. "Oh, Damon," she patronized with feigned pity. "You can reject me night after night. You can hate me. You can stick me in a tomb. You can drive a stake into my stomach or right through my heart…but you will never, never, not want me." She leaned in and whispered the final words, her breath kissing him.

It didn't matter how Oscar-worthy his acting was – she wasn't taking her clues from his eyes or from the way he was standing or from the way he reacted to her in some fabricated dream – he didn't need to show her it was true because she just knew. Damon Salvatore wasn't getting over Katherine Pierce. Ever. He just wasn't. She had burrowed so deep, spread so far, that it was no longer possible to extract her.

And she knew it.

And even if he somehow managed to forget her for five minutes, he would still never be able to love another the way he had loved her. His shattered heart would make sure of it.

Reaching out suddenly, she gripped his neck, tore him out of the ingress, went inside, and shut the door behind her.

And Damon went straight to his room, fighting the urge to go out and kill something.

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Thanks for reading!

In CHAPTER 2 Elena imitates Katherine to get info from Isobel, but what will she do when she runs into Damon and he doesn't know it's really her?