Disclaimer: I do not own the Vampire Diaries.

A/N: Oh goodness, thank you all kindly for the amazing reviews! You have no idea how much they mean to me. (-: Plus, they help me write more! I am sorry for the delay in this chapter, I have gotten beyond busy lately. Anyway, you guys can always follow me on tumblr for updates and whatnot: camrynrose13 dot tumbler dot com. (-:

Here goes! Please review!


Four

All conversation ceased as Kol sauntered into the living room. Two pairs of eyes fell on him, both wary and keen; an overtly suspicious glint was superimposed beneath them, and he didn't need to use preternatural hearing to know that he had been the topic of present. Remaining indifferent to such a display of antics, Kol continued his easy stride into the room and settled himself in a chair opposite of Niklaus, plucking an abandoned book from off the coffee table and skimming its pages without interest.

"It's wonderful to see you two getting along again," Kol muttered facetiously, flicking the book back on the table. There was a reason it had been discarded. "All must be right with the world."

"And where have you been?" Klaus asked brusquely, momentarily shoving aside yet another drawing of the fair-haired Caroline to regard his younger brother with contempt. "You've hardly shown your face in three days."

Klaus had always had an easy temper to bait, but Elijah, reserved and aloof Elijah, showed hardly a flicker of emotion.

"Yes, Kol," Elijah asked with only a hint of enunciation, exposing the faintest intimation that the eldest brother was not happy. "Where have you been?"

"Oh, let's not pretend we actually care, shall we?" Kol suggested in a falsely kind voice. "Save that charade for Mother."

A dark look from Elijah fell on him. "Kol," he said in a tight voice as he raised an eyebrow, prompting. "Your cooperation would be much more beneficial with the current situation."

Kol returned a challenging stare. "And what might that situation be, brother? Do enlighten me."

"You will show respect or you will not show yourself at all," Niklaus spoke up with resolute loathing, his jaw clenched. Even craven Finn did not irk Klaus's nerves as much as his youngest brother did.

Said respect was dashed away with a roll of Kol's eyes. "Or what? You'll begin your threats again? Have you nothing else to do?"

Klaus opened his mouth to retort, but was quickly impeded by Elijah's firm tone.

"Enough."

It seemed that sibling hierarchy prevailed in the room, as both Klaus and Kol closed their mouths but stared each other down petulantly. It was enough to almost make Elijah's fondness for family rekindle, if it had been under other circumstances; if their quarrelling existed in the simpler world that had existed a thousand years ago, instead of the complex chaos of the current day.

"You've been disappearing for the majority of the day," Elijah said, his statement directed to Kol. "Tell me, what have you been doing with your time?"

"Adjusting," Kol answered simply, without inflection. He cast a malicious glance at Klaus. "Some of us missed the previous century."

A smirk upturned Klaus's lips, but he said nothing as he returned to his drawing.

Elijah studied his youngest brother prudently. With a stone-faced mask, Kol stared back; this was it, he knew. He would yet again be trailed by a shadow should Elijah suspect him of foul play. No longer was he willing to be deprived of the life he once lived without obstruction, without reign or rule. It was his for the taking, once more. He would allow nothing to get in the way of that. Liberation from his brother's watchful eye was key.

His brother's eyes were as cool as stone. Of all his siblings, Elijah was the one to remain wary of. An incessant paradox, he was: though he was the most devoted and loyal, he was the least trusting and always prying into things he had no matter with.

"Have you been in contact with Miss Heart lately?" Elijah asked casually, but his tone was laced with needles.

Kol couldn't help himself. He smirked. "I shouldn't have the malice to trouble such a dear, innocent creature. How could you think so low of me?"

Elijah's face tightened. "I told you to keep your distance. Mark my words, Kol: you will regret any further action against Mother's wishes."

All the more reason to carry on, then.

"Do you hear how pathetic you've become, Elijah? Is it not conceivable to you, that Mother is spinning falsehoods? How very ignorant of you." Kol's voice remained light, but his eyes burned with scorn.

"Is it not conceivable to you that it may very well be reality? Have you lost all hold on you who once were?" The tinge of sadness imbued in Elijah's voice was sincere but composed.

Kol stood, sensing the new direction of the conversation with disdain. "We are vampire, Elijah. We were nothing before this." And with that, he threw both of his brothers a look of derision before exiting the room.


"Is Alex here?" Matt asked eagerly as soon as the doorknob had been turned. After swinging it open, James blocked the threshold, appraising Matt with raised eyebrows.

"What's with you guys today?" James mused in deliberation; there was obvious concern shading his eyes darker than usual. "Did something happen that I need to know about?"

"Is she here?" Matt prodded anxiously, peering over James's shoulder and into the quaint house.

James nodded, but his eyes narrowed with suspicion and confusion. He gestured towards the stairs. "Yeah, she's—"he was cut off as Matt shoved past him and bounded up the stairs with determination. The last door on the right was open a crack: her room. He strode right in, searching for evidence that Alex was okay. When his eyes landed on her sprawled upon the bed and gazing out the window blankly, he breathed out in relief.

"What happened?" he asked, grabbing her attention. "Why didn't you wait for me?"

Alex looked surprised as her lips parted and she racked her brain for an excuse. He had shattered her brief daydream of peace and quiet, dousing her with a cold, unpleasant taste of reality. "What are you doing here?" she finally asked, resigned.

"What am I doing here?" He was incredulous, and if he admitted it, aggravated by her chosen deflection. "What are you doing here? You left school and it was only first period."

When she frowned, her inner turmoil was left unconcealed. Worry blossomed further in his chest. He sat beside her on the bed and gave a firm look. "Tell me what happened. Is this about Mr. Saltzman?"

Shaking her head, she snatched up a pillow from the other side of the bed and buried her face in it, wishing she could smother herself. She was utterly embarrassed by her helplessness, by the way Kol made her freeze up in pure terror. But she was terrified.

"It's Kol, then," Matt deduced, watching carefully for her reaction. He saw the bastard outside the school himself. That had been the reason why he didn't hesitate to drive to Alex's house and skip the rest of the day.

She tensed up immediately at the Original's name and her face drained of color. He didn't have to see her face to know he guessed correctly.

"What did he do?" He probed anxiously. "Did he hurt you?" '

Curling into a ball, Alex kept her eyes pinched shut and her arms wrapped protectively around her knees. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. She shivered. The dream was as vivid as a memory; he had kissed her, he had bit her. All of the sensations lingered on her skin. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, certain she'd find puncture marks, but discovered none in relief.

Part of her was even more scared by this revelation: he was screwing with her head.

Matt carefully laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder, causing her eyes to snap open. "You're shaking," he said quietly. Within his eyes, she could see an undercurrent of hate directed at her devil. The only thing that surfaced in her mind was: dangerous.

No matter what, she could not jeopardize Matt. She could not put him in danger, in Kol's path of destruction and terror. Not after everything else he already went through. Not after all he had lost.

"I'm fine," she managed to say, shifting on her side so he couldn't view her face. Lying wasn't her forte, and she knew it. She wore her heart on her sleeve and was much more open than she cared to admit. It was never a bad thing until she met people who wanted to manipulate that trust and exploit it.

"Alex," Matt's voice gently commanded veracity. "Look at me."

Several seconds passed before she could pull her gaze from the window and do as he asked; her bottom lip quivered in silent distress upon seeing his deep-cut worry. She already put him in danger by pushing him that far, however unwillingly it had been.

His eyes were imploring. "Please tell me what's going on. What is he doing to you?"

Damon's words echoed in her head, the perilous stake clear in her mind's eye. You're not gonna tell anybody what happened because nothing happened. Forget about it. Forget about it. It would be safer that way.

"Really, Matt," she insisted, finding renewed vitality at the thought of preserving her friend. "It's… it's nothing." Her gaze immediately fell upon her dresser, upon which a simple pearl ring was displayed in front of a copy of Wuthering Heights. She swallowed hard. "Things have just… reminded me of her." Tears burned in her eyes; she hastily wiped them away.

Matt followed her gaze with a creased forehead that smoothed with recognition. A poignant mood descended on the room, heavy and obliterating. His fists clenched unconsciously at a string of memories tied to the small object: dainty, little Alex crying in his arms, the flashing lights of police cars, Caroline's mom especially stern-faced and saddened, the blood. The blood.

Sinking beside Alex on the bed, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, his eyes never leaving the cursed ring. She leaned into him fondly, holding back the forthcoming tears.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately, the words pouring forth. "I—I should have realized. It's one month until the anniversary—of course it's on your mind."

Alex bit her lip until it turned white and threatened to draw blood; the physical pain was more endurable than the emotional pain. "It's okay," she whispered, but her voice was equally as hollow as her eyes. "It's just… every time I see Kol… I think: this must be how it felt. This must be how her last moments were. And I freeze up, because no one should have to die like that. Especially not her. Not Mom."

A mix between a sob and a hiccup escaped her lips, but she pinched the skin on her forearm and let the pain quell her emotional turmoil. A raw ache filled the void of emptiness in her heart; the loneliness and suffering she had to bear that had encroached upon the once easy life she had lived. She couldn't think about this now. Not now.

Rubbing his thumb reassuringly over her arm, he made a solemn vow to her. "We'll get through this, Alex. We'll fight back. You'll see."

A creeping feeling of fear inched along his spine. He hoped he was right.


Caroline's typically gentle expression warped into a look of disgust. Her nose crinkled. "You want me to what?"

Damon rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. His arms were folded firmly over his chest; they stood in the boardinghouse study, surrounded by a literature connoisseur's wet dream of books. The sun had fallen from the sky hours ago, and the room glowed in soft, artificial light. His face was tightened in vexation.

"Make it look pretty," he repeated, enunciating each word individually for a patronizing effect as he gestured towards the rest of the room, and in general, the house.

"Pretty," she reiterated slowly, processing the command he had just ordered. Pretty and Damon Salvatore didn't belong in the same sentence. Okay… if she was being honest with herself, he was very pretty. Masculine jaw line, electric eyes, luscious hair, flawless skin... Her eyes narrowed at him. Damn bastard. She chose to believe that the effects of his compellation to be drawn to him back when she was human was still mind-screwing her. Passionate hate did not begin to describe what she really felt towards him.

"Yes," Damon said, on the verge of losing his already thinned patience. "If we're gonna deal with the Klaus situation, we need to have the home field advantage. So, we're holding next week's Council meeting here. Which is why you need to make it pretty before then. Understand?"

With a slow nod, Caroline appraised the elder vampire as if he'd turned into a troll. She decidedly went with it. "I'll need help."

"You're a vampire," he said with another eye-roll, headed over to the liquor cabinet. When it came down to it, Jack Daniels was his only friend. Loyal and consistent. "I think you can handle a little decorating solo."

"But it's so boring alone," Caroline came dangerously close to whining. She softened her pitch. "I won't invite the entire decorating committee. Promise!"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Damon breathed heavily before knocking back his drink. "Fine," he acquiesced, hardly interested in an argument given the circumstances. "Go crazy. Just make sure nothing looks suspicious."

Nodding eagerly, Caroline smiled, already planning out the theme color and eyeing the antique furniture. A thought occurred to her. "But isn't the Mayor having that charity gala tomorrow night?"

His expression was clouded with obscurity. "So?"

"So… Why isn't she hosting this meeting, like she usually does? How're you gonna keep it from being 'suspicious'?"

"Simple," Damon said in a concise, straight to the point tone. "On behalf of one-hundred and fifty years of service, the Salvatore family logging mill is donating new funds to the Mayor's office to continue historic restorations." He gave a poisonously false smile after his rehearsed spiel. "So don't screw this up."

Caroline made a face at him. "Is that really what you're gonna say?"

A heavy, shiver-inducing glare fell on her. Before Damon could retort caustically, the front door opened. Stefan appeared, tight-lipped. Behind him stood Elena, looking uneasy and uncomfortable. It was apparent the pair still had a strained relationship at best.

Damon immediately tensed upon realizing Elena's presence; it was as if a shock of electricity struck him, and his face was wiped clean of any signs of malice, instead kept carefully impassive. He eyed his brother, who returned the look. Stefan had lost the vital set of his shoulders after the summer spent with Klaus; his soul was still in reconstruction, and his lighter humor had been gagged.

And the tension between their vying love for Elena had only grown.

Caroline cleared her throat at the awkward silence, raising her eyebrows pointedly at the trio. The nearly ever-present frown that weighed upon Elena's lips returned; she shifted on her feet before gauchely crossing her arms. Having both of the brothers in one room still discomfited her.

"Well," Caroline said tactlessly. "This is the part where I should say 'I'm gonna go.'"

Elena gave her a pleading look, begging her to stay; she couldn't bear the tormenting company of only herself with Stefan and Damon. There needed to be a buffer.

"Or, you know, not," Caroline mended after a pause, and tried to put on her cheerful face. "I need your opinions anyway. Sunset orange, or more of a rose garden?" She held up respective color cards with an eager smile, prompting an answer.

Brow creasing, Elena asked, "What?"

"For the Council-meeting-slash-'party'-slash-new-plan-to-kill-Klaus next week," clarified the blonde vampire in a questioning tone. "Didn't Damon tell you?"

Two pairs of eyes settled on Damon, who only glared coldly at Caroline while Stefan averted his eyes to the floor.

"About that," Stefan began mildly, running a hand through his hair with a sigh.

The expression on Elena's face had gone from troubled to severely irked. "Were you guys going to tell me this?" She looked between the brothers, prompting a response with her stiff posture.

"No," Damon said simply. His electric eyes were intent and resolute. "Because you won't be there."

"What he means," Stefan intervened quickly, giving his brother a reproachful look over Elena's shoulder, "is that you'll be busy. You can't be there when things go down."

Elena shook her head with frustration. "You want me on the sidelines again while everyone else risks their lives? No. I need to do my part, too."

Stefan lifted his hand to touch her arm reassuringly, but faltered at the last second, thinking better of it. His jaw tightened. "You will be doing your part. It'll be more dangerous for everyone else if you go."

Burying her face in her hands with disconsolation, Elena trudged to the parlor and seated herself with a heavy sigh on the loveseat. The others trailed in behind her, in varying degrees of restlessness as they gazed upon their dear friend with worried eyes.

Elena shook her head again. "Everyone's in danger because of me in the first place," she said quietly, morosely. "This is spinning out of control. Too many people got sucked into this."

"This isn't your fault," Caroline said gently, offering a small smile. "We're your friends, Elena. We're in this with you."

An almost despairing look came across the doppelganger's features, contorting her expression into one of deep inner agony. "But everyone you guys care about…" she trailed off, staring unseeingly ahead at the grand fireplace. "I was talking to Matt earlier…" A noise of sadness came from her throat and she closed her eyes.

As soon as the name had been mentioned, Caroline's posture straightened, her eyes lighting up. "Is he okay? Did he say why he left school? I saw him in the hallway with Alaric… He almost punched him."

Damon's brow furrowed with suppressed anger as he connected the dots: Alex told Matt about Alaric's other half. Beside him, Stefan eyed his brother's reaction curiously, but said nothing. The strange antic had gone unnoticed by the females in the room.

"It's Alex," Elena continued with a tinge of sadness. She and Alex had never been close—Matt ensured they stayed far away from one another, to keep Alex out of the vice-like grip of the supernatural—but Elena felt a deep sense of sadness whenever her thoughts turned to the girl. It was only several houses down from Elena that she lived, and most of the town had been present on that night, long ago, when Alex discovered her mother's body. Repressing the tightness in her chest from resurrected grief of her own losses, Elena tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "We thought Klaus was bad… He's nothing compared to Kol. Not for Alex, at least."

"Kol?" Caroline asked, her forehead creased. "What does he have to do with it?"

"I'm not entirely sure, yet," Elena said wearily; her tumult of emotions weighed heavy on her heart. "Matt said he's taken up some sort of sick fascination with Alex. Like he's obsessed with killing her."

Obliterating silence followed, loaded with questions and thoughts no one wanted to voice. Elena chewed the inside of her lip absently while Damon met Stefan's eyes; his own glinted with the prospect of a new opportunity. Alex's bite mark, the strange behavior… it was all making sense to him.

"We have our in, then," Damon said, hinting at triumph. "We can get to Kol through Alex and send Klaus a message. He might think he's indestructible. But his family isn't."


Matt's hand hesitated, hovering over the dark heavy door before him as a lingering sense of fear tightened in his chest. Maybe this was a bad idea, after all. But it couldn't wait. Alex's torture couldn't be prolonged any further; things had already gotten too far, and he could no longer bear gazing upon a stranger.

Holding his breath, he picked up the heavy knocker and let it fall back to the wood, resounding hard and loud. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and adrenaline coursed through his veins. Each individual throb of his heart thumped through him, reaching to his toes and fingertips. The very last place he wanted to be at was the Mikaelson Manor.

When the handle turned and the door was pulled open, Matt blinked uncomprehendingly, trying to place the face presented before him. Dark hair, dark eyes, solemn expression. He'd been at the ball, with the other Originals. This must be Finn.

Finn's eyes held a masked suspicion as they bored into the young boy with, perhaps unconsciously generated, ruthlessness. He raised a dark eyebrow. "May I help you?"

"Uh…" Matt rubbed at his head, his eyes wandering anywhere but towards the Original's fathomlessly dark ones. "Yeah. Is Rebekah around?"

Eyebrow raising subtly higher, Finn seemed to deliberate something. Interest slowly faded from his eyes, and the somber, almost pained expression returned. "Come in," he said, stepping back to allow Matt entrance. He only murmured, "Rebekah," before walking away and returning to another room. As he opened the door, Matt caught a brief glance of an equally serious Elijah. It occurred to him that he could seek Elijah's help with this matter, but he wasn't very familiar with that Original, and truth be told, he was biased towards Rebekah. For reasons he wasn't quite ready to admit to himself.

Her footfalls were silent, but her presence was radiant and magnetized, making him turn and cant his head as she gracefully slinked down the grand staircase. Stopping midway, she arched an eyebrow, much like Finn, but with an air of hostility and hurt.

"What are you doing here?" She barely repressed a sneer, but restrained herself. Irritation chorded deep in her voice, revealing all.

Matt's eyes fell sheepishly to the floor. Guilt swelled in his heart. "Rebekah…" His eyes returned to hers with regretful apprehension. He swallowed. "I'm sorry."

The two simple words rang true and clear, holding an abundance of sincerity within them. They soaked into the atmosphere and perhaps acted as a bandage for the vampire's feelings. However, upon a further moment, she did not relent; only a fractional portion of hurt yielded in her eyes as she looked down upon him.

Her posture leveled stiffly; her lips faintly puckered in deliberation. "My family may have its treachery, Matt, but they are my family. I am one of them."

Spurred from grasping at the hairline fracture in her resolute composure, Matt took an unconscious step towards her. "I know you are. Rebekah—I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did—I didn't mean it. It's just… Kol…" He stopped, suddenly remembering himself. With a wary glance, he checked their surroundings.

"He isn't here," Rebekah answered his unspoken question with the impassive mask.

Relief poured itself into Matt's tensed muscles, cooling him. "Can we talk, Rebekah? Please?"

Rebekah stared piercingly into the quarterback's eyes, trying to discern a shade of deception. The observation came up blank, which reinforced the brighter image she had held of Matt after he had the kindness in him to lend her his jacket. Sweet, caring, sincere. All of the things she lacked in her existence. All of the things she yearned for.

Doubt troubled her mind, as it always did; a small yet lethal dagger that prodded at her peace and created turmoil instead, killing happiness along the way. A thousand years of experience taught her so much, but perhaps the most important lesson instilled had been of trust. Trust was no longer something she was capable of.

Now this simple boy challenged everything she had learned. She wanted to trust him. She did.

Maybe she shouldn't.

She knew she shouldn't.

Biting her lip, she let out a long breath as she eyed him once more, adding distaste into her otherwise blank look. "Fine."


A small square of light cut its way through the darkness, golden and divine in the deepest pits of black. A sheer curtain faintly obscured the view, but otherwise, Kol could see every look upon her face perfectly. His fangs, still withdrawn into the gums of his mouth where they remained hidden from casual view, burned with hunger. The aching feeling had guided his actions for days now. But it was his ecstasy. It was the thrill of the hunt; to quench the thirst would not only be immensely satisfying, but something of a victory.

Her blood would be his.

Sheer instinct had guided him outside his prey's window after the irate discussion with Elijah. He was growing impatient. The trick he had played on her mind earlier that morning had hardly been anything: he wanted more. To feel her blood on his fingers, to taste it on his tongue, to tear away her comforts and replace them with baleful reminders. He wanted to break her, to see that sickening innocence fray from her eyes and crack beyond reparations. Giving her a dose of reality would be good for her; he'd be doing her a favor. It was nauseating, how horribly naïve she was.

But the fear that was so often etched in her eyes was worth all this waiting. It was the aroma of feast before tasting it. Delectable. Enriching.

At the very moment, Alex wore an unveiled look of restlessness that made Kol's fangs ache further. The cell phone pressed to her ear was tucked upon the crook of her shoulder as she brushed her hair with frenzied strokes.

"You're sure she wants to help?" Alex asked with a lace of doubt. She frowned at her reflection in the vanity mirror before her.

"Positive," a male voice answered unwaveringly. Fire raged inside Kol from a deep root of loathing: Matt. The source of this entire premise.

Alex remained silent a moment; a suspecting look cast on her features.

Matt sighed, sensing her hesitation. "Well she didn't say it in so many words… But she will. I think."

The little bird's face folded with the weight of apprehension. "You think." It was a statement, inflectionless, blank, yet filled with flat qualm.

"Listen, Alex," Matt said, invigorated by a sense of purpose in safety, "it'll be fine. I'll talk to her more tomorrow, at the charity gala. She'll help. I know it. We'll take care of this."

Nodding, Alex set her brush back upon the vanity table, pursing her lips in contemplation. "I know we will," she said quietly. Her expression deceived her words. "Just… don't get hurt over this, Matt. I couldn't live with myself."

"Don't worry about me," reassurance did nothing to minimize her stress. "Just… get some sleep. 'Night, Alex."

The line clicked off; she was left staring back at her reflection, displaying equal amounts of hope and dread. She hoped Matt was right—Kol was only a minor setback, a transient issue, like a bully that loses interest over time. Deep in her heart, though, where the simplest of truths dwelled in black and white, she knew that wasn't the case. An insidious feeling constantly slithered in her veins; her muscles were now constantly taut with attentiveness to the point of broaching paranoia. Every move in her peripherals provoked terror and suspicion.

Kol had inched his way under her skin, and she was at the mercy of his caprices.

Like the past several nights, she knew sleep would not come. She could not hide within illusions of another reality, another place, another person. No, she would be forced to endure whatever cruel, sick thing he had planned for her tonight. After casting a wary glance out her bedroom window, she slid under her sheets and snuggled close to her pillow. Her heart fluttered in her chest with vile anticipation. She pinched her eyes shut.

Outside, Kol smiled darkly. Impatience was hardly anything when he truly considered it. A hunt typically lasted for seconds, perhaps minutes. But this—this extended rush of power—was endearing. The question was: would it hold his interest for long, or would the game grow boring and peak?

Watching her in that moment, he knew his attentions were not yet dulled. Her heart pounded so hard, he could hear the rush of blood through her veins, the delicate breathing as her chest rose and fell.

What a fragile little creature she was. She will shatter.


This bounced around, but I was happy with the result. I want you guys to see bits of the subplots. Matt and Rebekah, those sly Salvatores, badass Kol… And a little back story on Alex's mom. She wasn't killed by vampires, by the way. Just wanted to clarify. You won't learn about her dad yet. (These things will explain her fear issues, too.) So please tell me how this what and what you did/didn't like? No sexy moments in this, but there will be at the charity gala. Consider it me giving back to you guys. (-; Don't forget to follow me on tumblr!

Review!