Title: beneath mortal flesh

Rating: M

Genre: Alternate Universe/All Human (sort of)

Pairing: Bonnie/Klaus, Stefan/Katherine, Bonnie/Enzo (Minor), ect.

#Gothic Klonnie 2k18 Days 3 & 4:

rubatosis the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat

draugagangur the walking of ghosts, a haunting.

Summary: In the dark corners of Victorian London there is an apothecary. In the basement of that apothecary clairvoyant Bonnie Bennett communes with the dead. When the mysterious Niklaus Mikaelson seeks out her assistance in order to commune with his dead mother to find out the secret behind his birth, both discover there is more to the other than meets the eye.

Warnings: Sexual Content, Language, Dark Themes, Possession, ect.

A/N: This is inspired by Penny Dreadful. Most of what you need to know will be explained as you read. I am hoping that this isn't as bad as I think it is. I was hoping to have this up earlier but I have been busy. No editing here so here it is!

beneath mortal flesh

"We're all of us haunted and haunting."

Chuck Palahniuk, Lullaby

London, 1891

"Hail Mary, full of Grace. Lord is with thee." Bonnie Bennett knelt before her bed, hands clasped together and head slightly bowed. Her eyes were on the crucifix hanging on the wall. She tried to ignore the tears of blood that leaked from the eyes of Christ as she continued her prayers.

"Blessed art thou among women," she murmured, low and fast, "and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus." The red rosary that dangled from her hands swayed as her body did. It was the last gift her grandmother had given her before her death. Bonnie shut her eyes as the voices of the dead began to disturb her. They spoke all at once in cold distant tones begging to be the one she entertained on this night.

Bonnie eyes snapped opened as she felt something touch her bare feet. She glanced down and snakes slithering and hissing, dozens and dozens of them crawling from beneath her bed. Her hands clenched as her nose began to bleed and Bonnie's breathing came out in low and heavy gasps. The beads of the rosary pressed against her palms and made idents in her flesh. She couldn't stop, she had to keep going. If she didn't pray before, it would be easier for the dead to take her.

Bonnie jumped slightly as she suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder. She glanced to her left and saw the only dead spirit that she welcomed, "Grams." She whispered.

Sheila Bennett gave a firm nod and a small smile. The snake dissipated and dissolved into dust. "Keep going," she instructed, "Your body is yours. They may inhabit but they may not take. Keep going."

Bonnie nodded and drew strength from her grandmother as the woman knelt beside her. "Holy Mary, Mother of God," Bonnie uttered, her voice firmer, stronger, "pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of our death. Amen."

The moment that Bonnie finished her door bedroom creaked open. Bonnie turned to face her mother standing stiffly her door way wearing a dress that was the crimson color of blood. "It's time," Abbie said, her tone holding no inflection.

Bonnie nodded and stood. She was already dressed in a pink dress trimmed with black lace. Her feet were still bare but that could be easily remedied. Her mother still frowned at her state however, Bonnie could only imagine what her face looked like with the blood still dripping from her nose.

"What have you done to yourself," Abby scowled as she crossed the room. She grabbed the washcloth from the bowl on Bonnie's vanity as she walked towards her. She took Bonnie by the chin and began to wipe her face once she reached her. "And I told you about wearing your hair up like that."

Bonnie sighed. The men liked when Bonnie wore her hair down. It made her seem more attainable, seductive. The strangeness of the hauntings and the possessions were not enough of a draw for her mother. The guest had to be enthralled enough with Bonnie for them to return. she would have to use it all, her body and beauty before she gave it over to the dead to use. In this way Bonnie never belonged to herself.

Bonnie had never wanted to go into the trade. It had been her grandmother that the spirits had favored before her death, though Bonnie's gifts were stronger. However, Bonnie's father had convinced himself that it was Sheila Bennett's rantings and ravings that kept people from coming into the apothecary. "She's killing our business," Rudy had told his wife.

Abby, who had always been resentful of her mother's gifts and the unwanted attention that they brought, hadn't put up a fight when Rudy had had Sheila Bennett committed. Even with the woman gone her father's apothecary stayed empty. As it turned out it was simply that the people of London didn't trust a black man with medication preparation and distribution no matter how well read and well-dressed he was.

Sheila Bennett had died in the asylum and the family had gone into ruin. Bonnie had been consumed by grief when her grandmother's spirit had begun to visit her. As soon as her parents found out about her own gifts Bonnie had been sure that they would have her committed as well but by then they had been so desperate for money they had instead made use of Bonnie's gifts and Bonnie to make ends meet.

Once Bonnie began to do the séances and the readings their shop patrons tripled. No one minded buying the herbal remedies Abby brewed or her father's ipecac syrup or iron tablets if it meant an invitation to a séance or they could be added to a list for a reading. There was no limit to what they were willing to pay for either and her parents financial worries had ended.

A spectacle had been made of Bonnie's torment and neither of her parents seemed to wonder why Bonnie had been chosen`. Neither of her parents seemed to wonder what would happen if one day an unwelcomed and evil spirit decided to take hold and not let go. Bonnie wondered, and the visions and the nose bleeds she was beginning to have made it worse. Her grandmother's spirit was protecting her now, but Bonnie knew it wouldn't always been so.

Bonnie was brought back to the present as Abby began to unpin her hair. Her mother fluffed her curls with her fingers living only the top half pinned up as she spread the curls in the back over Bonnie's shoulders. "That should do it," she said, and then, "Mr. Mikaelson is here again. Perhaps tonight he'll finally tell us who it is he wishes to contact."

Bonnie stiffened again. Niklaus Mikaelson was the black sheep bastard of a family that was one of the richest and most affluent in London. He had begun to come to the séances two weeks prior. He came to every one without fail, always with his companions Stefan Salvatore and Katherine Pierce in tow. While his companions and the others in the audience always whipped their heads around and widened their eyes each time the spirts came and put on a show, blowing out candles, breaking windows, howling loudly so Bonnie wasn't the only one that could hear, Niklaus eyes always stayed fixed to Bonnie's no matter what else was happening in the room and no matter who else was inhabiting Bonnie's flesh.

Bonnie knew he wanted something but she wasn't sure what. Everyone who came to her came for a reason. Normally the spirits would tell her but they had been strangely silent where Niklaus was concerned as if they were keeping some kind of secret for him or someone dead that wished to protect him. Bonnie felt uneasy whenever he looked at her, as if she was second away from being massacred and devoured.

"Maybe this will be the last night that he comes," Bonnie said as she smoothed her hands down her dress.

Abby sighed. "You would see the attentions of a charming man as something to fear," she rolled her eyes, "a rich one at that."

"His family is rich," Bonnie corrected, "He's estranged from all of them but his brother Elijah and his sister Rebekah. He fancies himself an artist. Any money he has comes from patrons that Katherine Pierce finds for him at her parties. The ones that are rumored to be full of sin and debauchery."

Abby raised a brow at her. "And you know all of this how?"

Bonnie shrugged. "He's taken to the habit of talking to me before he leaves some nights when the spirits aren't as hard on me and I don't need…," Bonnie paused, licking her lips, she had her own secrets to keep, "To go for a walk to get back into sorts afterwards. I have attempted to discourage him but he is determined bother me any chance that he can get."

Abby grinned. "Perhaps we know what he desires after all."

Bonnie ignored the calculating look her mother was giving her. "Of course what I desire doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things," she frowned.

Abby gave her a look of mock repentance. "We've talked about this before," she said, "I'd do the séances myself but I don't possess your gifts. I've never gained the favor of anyone living or dead besides your father." Her face twisted into an expression Bonnie couldn't read before it cleared. "As for Niklaus. There are worse things than being wanted by a man."

Bonnie gave her mother a look through narrowed green eyes. "I'm well aware of that mother," she said before walking past Abby and out of her bedroom door.

Abby didn't reply as she followed Bonnie down the stairs, through the shop and towards the basement.

Tonight would be different than the others. It was the end of the month and so that meant the Night Walk. During the witching hour the spirits of the recently dead took turn inhabiting Bonnie's body so that they could share their last words with their loved ones before they crossed over. For a time at most it had been five spirits, maybe six at a time. However, there had been a string of murders as of late. Men, women and children, their bodies' disremembered, parts of them eaten. That meant the number of spirits at the Night Walks increased and Bonnie felt even more out of control after that number of possessions. The problem was that her parents thought more of profit than their daughter's well-being and so the Night Walks went on.

When Bonnie made it to the basement that her father had remodeled as a parlor of sorts using the earnings from his recent wealth, she wasn't surprised to see Niklaus and his companions among the patrons at the large circular table. Her father pulled out her chair for her and Bonnie took her seat at the center, the eyes of everyone in the room on her. She could ignore their gazes save for one.

There were so many people who had lost family members that there were even guests lined against the walls. The poor never got seats at the table. It was one of her father's rules.

The grandfather clock on the wall struck midnight and Bonnie watched as the candles in the candles in the black candelabras around the room ignited signaling the arrival of the spirits. They appeared as they always did materializing in a gray fog, disembodied heads and limbs at first until they formed something more solid though no less translucent. Some smiled at Bonnie and some gave her stiff nod. The one's body always watched were those who sized her up, they were the ones who liked to inhabit her the longest.

"They're here," Bonnie said aloud to no one in particular. Abby walked across the red Oriental rug to retrieve her ledger from the mantle on the fire place. She kept the names to remind her of which families owed them in case one or more fell short. The guest looked to Bonnie to wait and see whose loved ones came to bid them goodbye. Bonnie opened her mouth to say the first name, "Matthew Wagner."

One by one the families came up as one by one the spirits took hold of Bonnie's body. They took her voice to speak their last words. Took her arms to give their last embrace. Some took her lips to give a departing kiss. Others took her hands to give a shake or a slap, whichever was most fitting. Hours passed and with each spirit, Bonnie felt less like herself.

When it was over Bonnie's body didn't feel as if it were her own anymore. It felt hollow and cold. She had to actively breathe in an out to make sure she was still doing it. If she stopped hearing the sound of each inhale and exhale, a fear seized her and tears sparked in her eyes. Bonnie made her excuses as the guest began to thank her and wanted to embrace her. Most were grateful but Bonnie didn't have it in her to listen to their words of gratitude.

Bonnie passed her father on the way out of the basement. "I need a walk." She said her voice sounding foreign to her own ears.

Her father said something in reply but Bonnie ignored it. She left the shop and went out into the London streets ignoring the rain that poured from the skies. Over the sound of the rain, Bonnie began to hear the low thrum of her heartbeat echoing in her ears. It wasn't the normal sound, it was a slow sluggish thrum like something that was dying. It always sounded like that after they took her body.

She heard it no matter what she did. She plugged her eyes and it echoed louder, the unhurried thump, thump, and thump. She pushed through the crowded streets in an effort to get to her destitution that much fast, for in spite of what she always told her parents she always had one in mind, the sound deepened. She tried to ignore it but it was ever present. It thrummed at such a leisurely pace that all Bonnie could seem to focus on was waiting until it inevitably slowed to a stop.

It was likely some consequence of the dead taking over her body. Bonnie never spoke of it though she was unnerved by it. It wouldn't trouble her parents even if they knew. She didn't feel like she was even in her body. She felt like some weak temporary inhabitant and at any moment she felt as if someone or something strong would subdue her and wrest away what little control she had left. It was the same each time, each spirit, each Night Walk, each séance. There was only one remedy.

She tried to focus on the sounds around her. She listened to the sound of the people and the bustling in the streets. She focused on the smell of rain and piss. On the voices of strangers that buzzed around her. The sound of the outside didn't wash the echo of her heart out and Bonnie felt like crying just to have some form of release from the constant tension the sound brought to her frame.

She walked further until she came to the bar by the bar by the docks. She was leaving the safest place there was for her and journeying to the place that made her feel alive. Bonnie took another step forward and then another. The spirit of her grandmother that watched over the shop and the house wouldn't be able to watch over her if she went any further.

Bonnie kept walking and she felt her fear spike, hot and heavy finally warming the constant chill in her body. Bonnie felt and heard her heart begin to beat faster the further away she got from the house, from the safe haven. She began to feel like something with a pulse again. It was a blessed feeling, a dangerous feeling. Bonnie listened as finally the beating of her heart broke from its sluggish rhythm and kept walking.

She stopped in front of the bar door and banged with her fist on it three times. A signal. Lorenzo St. John came out almost immediately, his breath smelling of alcohol and his clothes smelling of fish. He was a sailor and that was all Bonnie really knew about him or cared to know. The first time they had fucked Bonnie had still been possessed, it was the act that brought Bonnie back, as if was something obscene, something she would never do. That was how it started.

Enzo was handsome but he was poor and he was a drunk. He was far from a prize and someone that Bonnie would catch hell for being near, let alone letting touch her. It was in all honesty the extent of his appeal. The act of seeking him out sent her heart hammering and her pulse thundering and Bonnie remembered that she was in her own body. She remembered what it was to feel. Or at least she had.

As walked Bonnie into a back alleyway and began to hike up her dress Bonnie knew their times together had reached its peak. He wasn't some dark stranger in an alley anymore. He was gentle and doting now as he touched her. He whispered sweet nothings as he pulled down his trousers and entered her. He fancied himself in love with her she knew. Perhaps if she was able to return his feelings even with the danger gone the passion she might have felt for him would still send her heart racing. But she didn't and though the sluggish rhythm had broken, hammer her heart did not.

"You're here love," Enzo whispered, "You're with me. You're fine. You're here." Bonnie wrapped her arms around his neck as he fucked her up against the brick wall of a building but his words didn't ground her any longer. She felt sorrier for him than anything, because this would be the last time. She would have to find something else, someone else to bring her back into herself.

Bonnie looked over his shoulder and saw a figure in the shadows. Her nails dug into Enzo skin as her hackles rose. She thought about warning him that someone was there but Bonnie kept her mouth shut as finally her pulse quickened.

The figure walked out of the shadows with quiet measured steps and Bonnie wasn't as shocked to see Niklaus Mikaelson standing in the rain, watching them as she should have been.

Niklaus watched them with an expression that conveyed so many different emotions. Shock. Intrigue. Jealousy. Longing. Bonnie's heart hammered. She kept her eyes on him as Enzo pounded into her hard and fast as he was want to do when he was close to spilling himself.

Bonnie felt her own pleasure spike Niklaus's hands clench into fists at the sounds of their pleasure. "Look at me," Enzo said, because he knew that eye contact helped. That being near someone living and breathing helped. But Bonnie kept her eyes looking over Enzo's shoulder at the icy blue ones refusing to break her gaze.

It was wrong. All of it. Being watched. Not warning Enzo. The way Niklaus was looking at her. It was wrong but Bonnie felt more alive than she felt in ages as she came apart in Enzo's arms as she watched a yellow tint bleed into Niklaus's blue eyes before he disappeared.

:::

Niklaus Mikaelson stood outside of the apothecary watching Bonnie Bennett through the shop window. He had killed her sailor lover during his transformation the night before but the girl didn't look to be in mourning. Perhaps his spirit was with her even now and she indeed was not.

The full moon persisted almost on a nightly basis and Klaus was no closer to finding the truth about his curse or his paternity than he was when the unfortunate chain of events began.

It started with an accident. He had gone after a man that had gotten too familiar with his sister. A tussle had followed and the man ended up dead in Nicklaus's anger. Then Klaus had changed. It was in this way that Klaus had been able to confirm what Mikael had accused all of those years, Niklaus was not his son.

Klaus had been unable to ask his mother questions because she had died in much the same way that Sheila Bennett had. Once Mikael found out about the affair he had disowned Klaus and had Esther committed. His mother had killed herself after one week of being institutionalized.

Klaus had been certain that he would never find his answers or gain anyone's acceptance. He lost himself in the drink and in the killings each full moon. He had met Stefan after going back to clean up the scene of one of his murders. He had found him there collecting the body parts Niklaus had left behind. It was the beginning of their friendship.

Stefan was a doctor's assistant. He was also on a quest to achieve resurrection of the dead and immortality. He was obsessed in fact with bringing his dear dead brother back to life. Damon Salvatore by jealous husband in a back alley one year prior. Stefan had been seeking to bring him back ever since. He was convinced that immortality was possible because of his lover, Katherine Pierce who claimed to be well over four hundred years old.

Klaus had met Katherine after Stefan had invited him to one of her notorious parties that always seemed to dissolve into sex orgies and had enough mayhem to send all of the city of London into chaos. When Klaus had heard her story he had immediately believed her, one couldn't transform into a wolf on the full moon without believing in the unknown and things of shadow.

Katherine stated that the reason that she did not age was simple, she had sold her soul. She had made a deal that she would not suffer the after effects of her sin or age. In her place, Katherine's twin sister Elena suffered. For four hundred years the girl had paid for Katherine's sins. Klaus had met Elena once and only one. Katherine kept her locked in a room in the attic of her mansion. The girl was old decrepit and scared, suffering from and unimaginable array of diseases. The only thing about her and Katherine that remained the same were her eyes.

"How did you manage to commune with the devil to make the deal?" Klaus had asked, the one thing that Stefan never questioned. He wanted to achieve immortality his own way without causing anyone else pain. So he sewed corpses back together and attempted to reanimate them, not thinking that living as whatever creature he managed to create would be a pain of a different sort.

Katherine had told Klaus that it had been simple. "I spoke to him through a girl with strange gifts," she said, "A slave girl by the name of Emily Bennett. She was able to commune with the dead and those beyond our realm. I believe she has an ancestor whose family runs an apothecary, right here in London."

It was in that way Klaus had discovered Bonnie. He had intended to attend a séance to ascertain whether or not her gifts were legitimate. He hadn't expected the immediate infatuation that followed. Upon seeing Klaus fell and he fell hard. It wasn't just her beauty, the dark curls, the brown skin and haunted eyes, it was the darkness he sensed underneath.

He knew from night after night of watching her communicate with and be taken by spirit after spirit that something end her drew in the darker ones as well. She was protected by the spirit of her grandmother her mother always said but there was clear torment that Bonnie suffered that no one seemed able to save her from.

Even in her torment Bonnie suffered in silence. She smiled and hugged the people she helped and let her good for nothing parents spend her earnings. She was in need of saving but refused to save herself.

Klaus wasn't sure that he wanted to make an attempt. More than anything he wanted to know if what was dark in her could accept what was dark in him. She seemed to entertain his attentions well enough but she was guarded at the best of times and then he had caught her with that sailor.

There was jealousy of course, which led to yet another murder, but then there was intrigue. She had caught him witnessing her and the now dead sailor and she had stared back at him unashamed. If anything his presence seemed to heighten her arousal and Klaus knew then that there was a place for Bonnie among him and his ilk if only she would take it.

Killing the sailor had been the first step and as Bonnie didn't seem to be mourning him, Klaus felt no guilt in doing so like he had with others, mostly when it came to women and children. Confrontation was the next step and then he would ask Bonnie for his long awaited favor. He needed to make contact with his mother.

With that thought in mind Klaus walked into the apothecary, the ringing of the bell on the door announcing his arrival. Bonnie looked up from where she was standing behind the counter. Klaus couldn't read her expression as she stopped grinding the herbs in front of her with a mortar and pestle.

Bonnie eyed him as he stood in front of her. "Mr. Mikaelson." She greeted.

"Surely we're beyond such formalities," Klaus said his tone low, in case her parents were lurking about, "I've asked you more than once to call me Klaus."

Bonnie blinked at him before returning to her task. "What can I do for you Mr. Mikaelson?"

Klaus frowned. Clearly the moment in the alleyway had meant nothing. Perhaps she wasn't what or who he'd thought she was. "You could tell me if you make it a habit of fucking strangers in alleyways." It was crass and not the way he had planned on broaching the topic but her perceived rejection put him on edge.

To Bonnie's credit she didn't react outwardly outside of a slight stiffness in her frame. "Do you making it a habit of watching people fuck in alleyways?" She asked, her tone slightly mocking.

"I had followed you out of concern," he stated, "I wasn't expecting to come upon the scene." It was the truth, in a way. He had rid the world of the sailor in hoping of taking his place, though he hadn't realized what place the sailor had until he had come upon the scene.

"And now your image of me is tarnished forever," Bonnie laughed softly, "Forgive me, Mr. Mikaelson if I am not terribly upset by that. Not that it's any of your business but Enzo was no stranger and even if he were, my body may be used and abused by the dead every night but I have autonomy over it in all other respects so if you expect embarrassment or some sign of remorse you won't get it."

Klaus was impressed in a way. She didn't cower, not for a moment. "I don't know what to expect when it comes to you it would seem," Klaus responded his eyes narrowed, "You come off as this docile little creature and you let yourself be used and yet you look at me with eyes of steel and I wonder just who you really are."

"A girl that fucks sailors in alleyways apparently," she said, "Would have been better were I fucking you, is that it? Whatever pretty little image you had of me I hope it's dead. I know about you and your companions. Not just what you've told me but I've heard others talk. I know what you get up to in that mansion of Ms. Pierce's. I know who and what you are to a greater extent than you realize. Some spirits protect you but others talk. You have no right to pass judgement on me."

Klaus reached across the counter and placed his over hers. "I would never judge you Bonnie," he smiled, "In fact I am relieved that I was right about you. You and I have more in common than I realized. You know of me and my sort and it would seem you would fit right in. Each of us possess something dark under the surface that we'd rather keep hidden. That sailor of yours, you weren't attached to him were you? No. It was about the act itself. It was about the forbidden. You wanted to remind yourself that the dead don't have you. That you have autonomy. That you have control. Fucking him in that alleyway was something no one knew about. No one would approve of. No one else would be able to dictate or stop or control. It was something that sent your heart racing and your blood boiling and you did it because you could. You did it because for once you wanted to take what you wanted and not give a damn about the consequences. Just like those spirits take you and use you, you used him am I right? I would never judge you, Bonnie. We're kindred you and I."

Bonnie glared at him, but there was something soft and vulnerable underneath. He could tell from the look in her eyes that something in what he had said had struck a nerve. "What if I was using him?" she whispered, "Is it a crime to want to feel alive when all I know and am is of death. He had feelings for me that I couldn't return but he knew what it was. After the spirits leave my body my heart slows as if on the verge of death and my body feels foreign. The voices of the dead grow louder. I forget that I am me and that I exist outside of all of this hell. It helped bring me back, what we had. He's gone now. They found his body this morning. But you know that don't you?"

Klaus didn't bother denying it, they both knew the answer to the accusation. "Wanting to feel alive is not a crime. You want to feel alive I can give you that and more. You want to sin I can immerse you in it." He leaned forward until their faces were inches apart. "Let me be the one that brings you back." He didn't say it outright but they both knew what he was asking.

"And what do you want in exchange?" Bonnie asked. She wasn't denying him. She wasn't turning him away. She wouldn't admit it but his offer was as appealing to her as it was to him.

Klaus reached out with his free hand and touched the side of Bonnie's face. "Your constant companionship and…an audience with the dead."

:::

"St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle," Bonnie murmured as she rocked back and forth on her knees rosary in hand, "Be our defense against the wickedness and snares of the Devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray, and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly hosts," a familiar hand on her shoulder made her pause but she kept going as her grandmother's voice joined her own, "by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan, and all the evil spirits, who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen."

Bonnie waited but no visions plagued her as she stood to her feet. She rain her hands down her hands down her black dress. Bonnie moved towards the door but stopped at the sound of Sheila Bennett's voice. "If you go down that road with that beast of a man you cannot come back from it," she said.

Bonnie tensed. She knew what she was doing. Klaus was an out. An escape. An escape from the constant death and torment. An escape from living her grandmother's fate. "And if I stay here where will I end up?" Bonnie spat, "If I got out on the streets of London on my own in search of freedom where then? It never ends well for people like us. At least this way, with this man I can-"

"Consumed by him instead of these spirits," Sheila cut her off, "Give your body to him instead of them."

Bonnie turned to face her. "I don't expect you to understand," Bonnie sighed, "It isn't just to get out…to leave this shop and this life behind. He looked at me and recognized my suffering when no one else has. He saw me at my worst and still he didn't judge. He read me like a book without even trying. I know next to nothing of him and yet he understands me and my motives more than my own kin."

"You know enough about him to be wary," Sheila stated, "Enough to be warned."

Bonnie nodded stiffly. "He knows enough me to be the same," Bonnie said, "Yet here we are. I have a feeling that rather than fearing each other together we'll be something to fear. Why else would you try to stop me from doing this when before the best you could offer was to not an out but advice to remember that my body is mine."

"Bonnie" Sheila started but was cut off.

"Goodbye Grams," Bonnie whispered, "I love you, but I don't need you to protect me anymore."

Bonnie left her room and walked down to the basement. This time she didn't wait for her mother and her father. They were out. The audience awaiting her this time was much smaller, consisting only Mr. Mikaelson, Mr. Salvatore and Ms. Pierce. This would be her last séance for some time, if at all.

Bonnie greeted Klaus's companions and allowed Klaus to kiss her hand before pulled out her chair next to his at the circular table. The clock struck midnight and Bonnie watched as the candles around them lit up with flame.

The others took their seats, Klaus across from hers and Stefan and Katherine on either of his sides. Bonnie took a deep breath as the voice ascended. "Join hands," she instructed. They joined hands in a circle and then Bonnie closed her eyes. "Let us begin." She said before she took a deep breath and called on the spirit of Esther Mikaelson.

:::

Klaus knew the moment that his mother's spirit took Bonnie's body. It wasn't because the flames in the candles around them shot higher than they should have. Or the violent shaking of the table. Or even the shattering of the mirror on the wall across the room. It was the look in her eyes. They became cold as they beheld him. Not the facsimile of ill will that Bonnie had once directed at him but genuine hatred as Bonnie's gaze became his mother's a twisted sort of smile appeared on the girl's crooked mouth.

"Niklaus," Bonnie said is an accented voice that was not her own. Esther, he told himself. This was no longer Bonnie but Esther. "Waiting until I'm dead to bring me flowers. Waiting until my heart stops beating to pay your respects. Waiting until you need me to come crying to your dear mommy. Now that the wolf has been unleashed." She let out a mocking howl that bled into something else, a strange sort of hissing sound that made the hairs on his skin stand on end. "What do you need from your mommy dear? Tell me, love."

Klaus winced at the mocking tone but pushed ahead, if only for her to release Bonnie's body that much sooner. "You know what I want. I need a name. I need to know my father. I need to know if there's a way to stop this dreaded curse your infidelity placed on my head."

There was a laugh, loud and cold. "My infidelity, so quick to judge, my son." She released Stefan and Katherine's hands and stood to her feet. She hiked up Bonnie's skirts and began to climb onto the table top. Klaus watched with fascination and dread as Bonnie's head twisted all the way to one side before snapping back at inhuman speed and then she was crawling towards him, Esther's voice wringing out from her throat. "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone," she breathed as she stopped before him on all fours. "Not the doctor that keeps the ledger of names of all of the people you kill and he maims. When all of their parts are no longer intact he puts them together and sews them back. He swallows his guilt for all its worth in hopes of bringing his dear brother back to Earth. Nor the bitch with the itch for sin and trifle, who sold her soul for her own survival. Whose twin suffers for all of her own ill will and pays the price for each fuck and each kill. No none of you beast of prey can judge though each of you can hold a grudge. But none more than you my son who's gone because of my sins roaming far from home with no pack to call your own."

Klaus stared at her, not bothering to hide his disdain. "Are you quite done?" he asked, even as Stefan and Katherine both looked disconcerted of his mother's assessments of them, "If you are going to make use of Bonnie's body at the very least you could atone for some of your sins. If this is all you've come for then free her."

Esther laughed again and this time their chairs began to shake. "Free her you say," she smirked, "Free the poor girl. Free her that's all she wants. All she needs." Klaus ground his teeth as his mother ripped open the front of Bonnie's dress freeing her breasts. He tried not to be affected by the sight with his mother's spirit inhabiting the girl's body. "You like this girl Niklaus," Esther mocked, "You've watched this girl. You want this girl. You love the ones that are twisted and broken. The girls that feed your mommy issues and have daddy issues that mirror your own that you can fuck out of them. You want your mommy to love. You want to suckle from her breasts. You want this girl writhing on top of you mewing daddy. Daddy. Daddy!"

Esther moaned in a way that seemed obscene even to her audience and Klaus stood his eyes going yellow. "Say what you want of me but you will not debase Bonnie," he growled.

"A wolf that defends his prey," Esther said unbothered, "Your daddy wanted to defend me to Mikael. But wolves have base natures. They're territorial. Possessive. Yet they'd sooner gobble bitches up than fuck them. But they can fuck. How they fuck. Your father used to fuck me hardest right before the full moon. Pounded into me until my cunt was raw and red." She moved to lift up Bonnie's dress. "Do you want to see hers? I can show you if you like?"

Klaus reached out without thinking about wrapped his hands around her throat, her being in Bonnie's body the only thing keeping him from snapping her neck. "I don't know whether it was death or that asylum that turned you into this twisted raging bitch. Or if it was your hatred of me spilling over into a living thing. But I swear to you if you do not give me my answers and release her I will kill everyone you hold dear that still walks this earth. Starting with your precious Finn. Then Mikael. Then I'll keep going until all of your children are in hell with you." He squeezed until he heard her gag, "Now give me a name."

There was something like defeat and then. "Ansel." It was uttered in a low resigned voice before her eyes closed and Bonnie's body slumped forward.

Klaus's grip loosened instantly and he caught Bonnie's body as she fell towards him. Stefan moved to check her vitals but Klaus shook his head. "Leave us," he said, "both of you. Go up to the shop and distract her parents if they arrive. If I need you I'll call."

Katherine nodded stiffly but Stefan hesitated. They left the room and Klaus watched as the room began to right it itself. The mirror looked as if it hadn't been touched. The flames on the candles settled to something calm and flickering.

Klaus studied Bonnie's face and he regretted involving her. His mother wasn't someone to be played with alive or dead. He should have warned her of what might come.

There was a gasp and then Bonnie's eyes snapped open. She stared at Klaus unseeing and his heightened senses finally made him understand as he heard the dull slow sound of her heartbeat.

She shoved at his chest in an effort to distance herself but stilled as her spoke. "Bonnie," he said, "You're alright. You're here."

She stiffened and shifted in his lap. "Your mother is a real bitch." She said, her eyes were still distance, looking out over his shoulder.

Klaus laughed. "She is," and then, "Are you alright?"

"No," the answer was plain and simple. She was trembling but she seemed to be determined not to let any other form of vulnerability show. "Was it true what she said?" To his surprise she made no move to cover herself and her tone was almost curious.

Klaus frowned. "The truth?" He had thought that his mother's words would frighten her. He had thought that she would go back on their deal and declare that he wanted nothing from him. Again, he was wrong about her.

Bonnie nodded, "I need to hear it," and Klaus was further shocked as she pushed the material of her dress down to expose herself even more to him.

"It was true. All of it," he admitted, "the wolf is my curse just as the dead are yours." Klaus heard her heart speed up. "I have killed and I will kill again."

Bonnie hands moved to undo the fastening on his trousers. "What about what she had about me?"

Klaus was distracted from answering she reached into his pants and wrapped her hand around him. She stroked him to hardness and then hiked up skirts. "Do you want me to call you daddy?"

Klaus smirked his eyes shining gold as he entered her. She moaned seeming to come back into herself and she looked at him her eyes holding that same blazing fire they had the night she had looked at him over the shoulder of the now dead sailor. Yes, this girl, this twisted broken girl, he liked her indeed. "Yes," he said, and her heart hammered loud and drumming in his ears. They were kindred and she was his.

End Notes: Don't have time to write more so there it is. Hope you all enjoyed it! Reviews are love!