tvdspnislife: I'm glad you like it:) Especially the Klaroline parts, as I am probably one of the most unromantic people on the planet. I want it to be difficult and complicated, but also simple, you know. Not forced or rushed, but taking its natural course ... even in a world populated with vampires and werewolves.

LitLover 101: Klaroline babies, you say ... Hmm, I may have to find a way to make that possible now. Not sure even Kol could keep up with a couple of those.

AN: Yes! Managed to finish before the week is over. But I had to write from two to nine.
Anyways, this time I was going for INCREASINGLY FRUSTRATING rather than funny. Let me know, if I succeeded.

Chapter 8: Questions

(Friday the 20th of May 2011)

(Mystic Falls, Virginia 08.14 EDT)

Stefan's English teacher, Miss Jones, was surprisingly intimidating. She was small, chubby and horribly young, probably straight out of college. Her Chestnut hair was short and curly, her eyes a greenish gray. She would've been pretty if it hadn't been for the perpetual frown on her face, the chronic look of disapproval. She was leaning against her desk, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I gather you know why I have asked you to come here today?" she asked, her lips a tight line.

"I have an idea, "Damon muttered, letting his eyes wander around the classroom to avoid looking at her.

"Your brother's grades are slipping, none of his teacher has received any written work from him for months. He is becoming increasingly aggressive towards the other students and what's more, he is obviously exhausted. He has been sleeping through my classes the entire semester."

"He ... " Damon began, but she cut him off.

"Does he get any sleep at night at all?"

"I don't know."

Her frown deepened. "How about last night?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, I wasn't home."

"You weren't home?" If eyes could kill ... "Have you at all been trying to talk to him about what he's been going through?"

'This is ridiculous' Damon wanted to say, but kept it wisely to himself. The only thing that could save him was seeming interested. "I already know. He lost his girlfriend ... "

"I am aware of that, "she interrupted him again. "But that was a year and a half ago. I would hate for him to throw away his future over that."

Damon opened his mouth and closed it again. Stefan had waited more than a hundred years to fall in love once more. He had lived a half-life through decades to finally find someone that made him feel alive again, only to lose her after a few short months. How did anyone explain that to a human?

Miss Jones cut into his brooding. "I am going to suggest that he repeat his senior year."

Damon blinked. "Why?"

She grabbed a folder from her desk, flipping through it. "I very much doubt he will be able to pass his exams, as it is. And it is much too late for him to catch up."

Damon did not doubt that Stefan could pass if he wanted to, but he didn't want to get into that discussion. After all, what was one more year in the grand scheme of things?

"That sounds reasonable, "he said.

"That's settled then, "she scribbled something on a piece of paper. "And in the meantime, I suggest you get him a therapist."

"I really don't think that will be necessary." He was almost aching to make a sarcastic comment, to tell her that she didn't know who she was dealing with, but he had a feeling that this particular woman possessed the power to make his life miserable.

She looked up from the folder, fixing him with the coldest stare he had ever gotten. "Either you get your brother therapy or I will have to report this to Social Services."

"Eh ... " The thought of a social worker coming by to take away his billigerent younger brother was beyond bizarre. And yet, strangely appealing. "Alright."

He tried to give her his usual charming smile; the one women couldn't resist, but she was in no way impressed. Quite contrary, she seemed to interpret it as him not taking the subject matter seriously.

"Your brother will be turning 18 very soon, Mr. Salvatore. Until then, his wellbeing is your responsibility. I'd hate to think that you are neglecting that responsibility."

'Why the Hell not a year older, Stefan?!' He didn't need this - Stefan was drawing far too much attention to himself, he would have to calm down and soon. There was no saying what skeletons people would find if they started going through his metaphorical closet.

"Right."

Damon felt dazed, when he left. He almost walked right past Alaric in the parking lot, not recognizing him.

"Hey!" Alaric had an agitated Miranda on his hip, her screams sounding enraged rather than distraught. "What the Hell happened to you?"

"Miss Jones, "Damon offered as the only explanation.

Rick nodded. "Ah, you got a call from the Cthulhu?"

Damon grimaced. "What the Hell happened to make women so frightening?"

Alaric shrugged, stroking his daughter's sandy hair mechanically to calm her down. "Haven't they always been?"

"Yes, but it seems to be getting worse lately."

Rick's hand paused on the back of Miranda's head, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Whose bed did you wake up in this morning?"

Damon gave him a forced smile, gritting his teeth as the toddler shrieked in outrage. "Well, let's just call it a praying mantis."

Alaric sighed in annoyance, his patience wearing thin after a year of diapers, baby bottles and frequently interrupted sleep. "Don't play coy; you couldn't keep your conquests to yourself even if your life depended on it."

That was normally the case, but for once in his life, Damon didn't want to tell. Not because Rick wouldn't like the answer, (there was nothing in this world he would like more than to scandalize Alaric,) but this time ...

Rebekah had a large but vulnerable ego, and if Damon had to be honest; so did he. Their new connection was fragile like a house of cards. It was impossible to tell how much it could handle or how little would be enough to make it fall apart.

He settled for giving Rick a dismissive wave.

"Come on, Damon!" Alaric followed him tenaciously to his car. "At least tell me; was it vampire, witch or werewolf?"

"You left out Vixen, "Damon noted drily. He drove away, followed by Rick's exasperated swearing.

(Break)

(NYC 10.05 EDT)

The newspaper lay on the kitchen table, untouched and still with the rubber band around it. Elijah was staring blindly into the purple wall, brooding about the sacrifices he had to make to accomodate his family. It had been surprisingly easy to be without. Easy, organized ... and boring.

Finn padded into the great room with the obligatory whiskey bottle in his hand. He gave Elijah a puzzled look, followed his gaze to the purple wall, and then looked back at his brother again. "What are you doing?"

Elijah sighed. "Thinking that an elephant may be exactly what this place needs."

Finn's eyebrows went up. "What?"

"Nevermind, "Elijah turned his head, just to bring the neon green cabinet doors into his field of vision instead. He closed his eyes to shut out the horror. "Where's Sage?"

"Sleeping, "Finn took a blood bag from the fridge. "She's still exhausted from decorating."

"That's not what she said last night, "Kol announced cheerfully, walking into the kitchen.

Elijah opened his eyes, giving Finn a quick assessing look and finding that the beginning of yet another fit of rage was already present in stony expression on his face.

He turned to his youngest brother. "Kol, before you say something; try to take a minute to say it to yourself inside your head and then decide whether or not you actually want to say it out loud."

Kol blinked. "Why?"

"Well, the things you say are sometimes not just dumb, "Elijah explained carefully. "They are so dumb, I literally want to put my head through the wall."

Kol seemed to consider for a minute, then shook his head. "Sorry, brother, no can do. It would kill any quick comeback."

"That is exactly the kind of attitude that gets you daggered, "Finn snapped.

"Relax, Finn, "Elijah urged quietly.

"Just for awhile, "Finn held up his hands in appeal. "Just for the weekend."

Luckily, Elijah's phone sprung to life, temporarily saving him from the incessant Kol-Finn drama. He checked the caller ID: Niklaus.

"Excuse me, "he went into his study and closed the door, before answering the phone. "Yes?"

"I'm getting married, "a triumphant voice announced.

"Just a moment." He took the phone down from his ear and checked the caller ID again. No, he hadn't misread the first time, but he still needed to make sure. "Niklaus?"

"Yes, Elijah."

Elijah took a deep unnecessary breath. "Are you ... ?"

"Are you what?" Klaus mocked him. "Alone? Drunk? Insane? I'll go for none of the above."

A woman giggled.

Elijah rubbed his temple with his free hand. Now all of his brothers had managed to make him feel a million years old today and it wasn't even noon yet.

"Well, congratulations, I guess, "he muttered. "If she's really sure that's what she wants."

(Break)

(Mystic Falls, Virginia 19.01 EDT)

The hospital was by no means large, but it's illogical geography left Hanna lost after a few minutes of walking down one hall after the other.

Esther walked a few paces ahead of her, purposefully as a woman with a plan. She had abandoned the flowing, white dresses for a sensible black attire; dress pants and a turtleneck sweater. The clicking sounds of her boot heels on tile echoed through the white halls.

She slowed down when they came to the blood bank, walking through double doors with a 'Staff only' sign. She reached out a hand, trailing her fingers over the walls and doors they passed as if searching for something. And Hanna knew, she was magically feeling her way through the hall.

Several nurses and doctors walked by, staring straight ahead.

"Why?" Hanna whispered.

"They cannot se us, "Esther answered distractedly. "Or hear us for that matter ... Here it is."

She opened a door with a small, rectangular window placed at a man's eye level, and they slipped inside.

It seemed to be a small lab with vials and microscopes. And several large freezers.

Esther held out a hand, her fingers splayed and muttering under her breath. Hanna jumped, as one of the freezers sprung open. A blood bag flew out and into Esther's waiting hand.

Hanna looked at it curiously. It was marked with 'O Negative' and underneath a number. The contents were yellow, though, not red. "What is that?"

"Elena Gilbert made a blood donation while her friend, Caroline, was a patient here, "Esther told her, putting the bag into her purse. "This is her blood plasma."

"And why would you need that?"

"The blood of the Petrova Doppelgänger contains all sorts of powers, "she explained, giving Hanna a warning look that clearly told her that her many questions were not appreciated. "Its uses are numerous."

'What uses?' Hanna mused. 'Making a clone or breaking a curse? Killing a hybrid?'

She followed Esther back through the halls, her head hanging in defeat. Esther had made it quite clear from the beginning that Hanna's own and her son's life depended on her discretion. And from now on, she wouldn't get the chance to tell anyone. Esther watched her like a hawk at all hours of the day and night.

It all depended on Erik to do the impossible; to track down Niklaus.

It was a long shot and potentially hazardous, but they could not afford to involve anyone else. All other lines of communication were tainted and even more dangerous.

"A penny for your thoughts."

Hanna's head jerked up and she met Esther's searching, blue eyes. She felt panic wash over her for a second as she wondered whether or not it was possible for the witch to read her mind. But she quickly got her emotions back under control. She had to be inconspicuous, otherwise Esther would undoubtedly find a way into her mind.

"Just thinking ... Mikael has been trying to kill Klaus for a millennium. What makes you think he will be successful now?"

"This time ... " Esther talked slowly as if weighing her own words carefully. "He won't be on his own, but Niklaus will."