For a time, after her mother disappeared, Bonnie disappeared into books.

She read constantly, in between her little chores at home, at school during recess, at night long after she was meant to be asleep.

Both Rudy and the child psychologist he made her have a few sessions with were thrilled at this development.

"I'll buy you any book you want to read, bonbon," he told her once on the drive to school ( a rare event with his work schedule). "So long as it's not a romance novel."

Bonnie thought hard about what that meant. She'd seen such a book on Mrs. Forbes' shelf. Caroline had snuck it upstairs during a sleepover and she and Elena had dissolved into fits of giggles about the cover. She vaguely remembered a woman with long flowing hair and a man's beefy chest.

"How come?" she asked her Dad, more out of curiosity than genuine concern.

"Because if you've read one romance novel you've read them all. There's no story there, nothing new to learn."

The conversation left an impression she forgot about until some years later.

She was twelve years old, crawling up into the attic looking for an old teddybear, when she stumbled on the chest marked with Abby's name. In that musty trunk, buried under some dresses, a collection of combs and costume jewelry, and half eaten by moths, were stacks and stacks of the same kind of novel. The same kind of story. Her eyes pored over silk-clad damsels running across moors being chased by men in fancy suits, and slender young women holding babies while handsome husbands towered over them.

The covers were well worn by her mother's hands. She couldn't remember ever seeing Abby with the books, which meant the reading had occurred in secret, away from her and Rudy. Bonnie's first instinct was to take one and read it herself, then she was instantly flooded with shame, a shame she couldn't understand but that filled her throat like bile, making her shut the chest and hurry back downstairs.

She felt small and very alone, shut out by her parents and their baffling secrets. She wondered if all people hid parts of themselves away.

How did they know, what to conceal and what to keep? Who showed them?

The receptionist, a thin brunette with a sparkling diamond engagement ring and a name-tag that spells "Ashlee", gives her a disdainful gaze that Bonnie is certain has everything to do with the pregnant belly swelling against her pink t-shirt she had worn for her flight to Virginia.

"I'm here to see Rudy Hopkins, he was brought in last night-,"

Ashlee cuts her off. "Are you family?"

The brusque question catches her off guard. "I- I'm his daughter, Bonnie."

Sharp eyes flick down to her protruding belly again. "Last name?"

"Bennett. I have my mom's name."

She fidgets while Ashlee flips through some forms. There's two more people in line behind her now.

"Your date of birth?"

Bonnie supplies the information with a sting of shame. Only, the shame isn't welling up inside her anymore. It feels foreign, like someone forcing cough syrup down a child's throat. The realization steels her spine, makes her draw up straighter and address Ashlee in a calm but clear tone. "I could call Dr. Fell and have her vouch for me but I'd hate to bother her when she's so busy. Maybe you could call her? Just use my first name, she knows who I am."

Her words have the desired effect. Ashlee closes her file with a huff and begins scribbling a note.

"Your dad's in room 233," she says almost like an afterthought.

Bonnie foregoes a thank you in favor of hurrying down the hallway, ignoring the curious looks and questioning faces until she finds the room. Easing the door open, her soft entrance is abruptly forestalled when she notices Rudy isn't alone.

A woman bends over the bed, hand clasped with his, talking in a hushed, intimate tone. Bonnie notes that she's about her father's age, with a distinct, square face and high cheekbones, dressed in a plain blue cardigan and jeans. A small, gold cross glints at her throat when she looks up.

Before Bonnie can say a word, the older woman strides forward and clasps her hand. Her grip is firm and comforting. Almost maternal.

"You must be Bonnie. Rudy's not in any danger, he has two broken ribs and a mild concussion. thinks he can go home in a few days."

Bonnie opens and closes her mouth. "Thank you, I'm -"

The woman shakes her head with a kind smile. "I'm so sorry this is how we're meeting. I'm Anaïs, Rudy's fiance."

They met during a business trip to Minneapolis and kept in touch, dancing around their attraction for years until they took the plunge and began long-distance dating. The engagement had occurred a few months ago, and they'd decided to keep it private until their families could meet over the summer.

Anaïs furnishes her with this information over Jell-O cups from the hospital cafeteria while Rudy sleeps. Bonnie listens and eats in silence, trying to understand the strange, disjointed feeling in her chest.

The feeling explains itself when they take Rudy home two days later. Anaïs has thought of everything, from a roomy rental car that could transport him comfortably to turning his study into a second bedroom so he won't have to go up and down the stairs. Bonnie offers to help many times, only to be sweetly refused and instructed to "rest" and "not worry so much."

The awkwardness of his not-so-secret engagement and her not-at-all secret pregnancy hangs heavily between her father and herself, rendering even their usual light-hearted conversations strained and shallow. Their most sincere communications had always been through actions rather than words. Making breakfast, watching a movie together on weekends, reading next to each other on the couch.

His injuries, and Anaïs' presence, upends all of that.

So Bonnie spends her days trying to do homework and avoiding Caroline's phone calls until one day the blonde corners her outside the grocery store and, after several minutes of incoherent hugging and exclaiming, hauls her off to Mystic Grill.

"Bonnie, unmarried pregnancy isn't a huge deal anymore, you didn't have to leave town with KLAUS of all people just 'cos some dude knocked you up-."

"That's not really why-,"

"And who is that dude anyway? Do I need to punch his lights out? Why didn't you tell me you were hooking up with randos at weird bars-,"

"There was just the one rando-,"

"Elena's gonna freak, you know that right? I mean we're talking nuclear meltdown levels here."

Suddenly, her face feels wet. Bonnie wipes at the stray tears and is about to choke out an apology when she's surrounded in a flurry of blonde hair and strawberry perfume. Caroline pulls her tighter into the hug. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just - I didn't know what was happening and I missed you, I- I'm sorry."

Bonnie relaxes into her embrace, sniffling a little. "Sorry, pregnancy hormones. I cry at everything now. "

"Quit apologizing. I'm the one who should be sorry. God, I yelled at my pregnant friend."

"I should've told you," she mumbles into the blonde's shoulder, "I wanted to, but everything was happening and I was so far away-,"

"Shush. It's okay, you're here now."

The blonde pulls back and hands her some tissue, watching her dab at her face as though she's seeing her for the first time.

"This is really happening. You're really having a baby," she says softly.

"Due in December," Bonnie sniffs, smiling a little.

"Wow."

"It's a boy, I felt him move a couple days go. It was the most surreal thing." She leaves out of course the hybrid who'd shared the moment with her. "And by the way, did you know my dad is engaged now?"

"WHAT?"

"Yup. To a woman he met on a business trip. She flew down from Georgia when she heard about his accident and she's gonna stay another week."

"Okay, that's it," Caroline waves over one of the waiters and orders a three course meal. "We need grease and we need sugar. Lots of it."

Bonnie, feeling her spirits lighten, makes sure to order extra pickles with her burger.

"So wait, you're telling me Klaus Mikaelson, our very own Nightmare on Elm Street, the guy who made Tyler a hybrid, found you an OBGYN and adopted a runaway kid?"

Bonnie nods.

Tyler's hybrid status is one of the reasons she'd avoided Caroline. It felt... wrong to sit here and think about the months she'd shared with Klaus and then remember the night they all thought Tyler was dead. She can't erase Klaus' crimes even if she wants to, but equally indelible is their time running from a strange beast, the moment he took her back to the real world in his arms, the night she covered his shaking shoulders with a blanket.

Bonnie looks down at her hands and voices a quiet question. "How's Tyler?"

"I haven't seen him in two months. He's travelling with some werewolves in Alaska," Caroline sips her chocolate milkshake with a slight eye-roll and somehow, Bonnie gets the feeling Tyler's absence doesn't rankle the blonde as much as she lets on.

"What's he doing in Alaska?" she asks tentatively.

"It's some kind of training so he can Bind his vampire side and go back to just being a wolf again. It's funny...," Caroline trails off, a thoughtful look on her face that for a split second makes her appear older, composed and mature, "he told me, he didn't ask to be a werewolf, and he definitely didn't ask to be a hybrid, but now -,"

"He's choosing something?" Bonnie supplies.

Her friends nods, "Yeah, yeah that's it."

"And...does that something include you?"

Caroline beams and the young, vivacious girl reappears. "He calls me everyday. Sometimes we talk for hours at a time. He says he wants to be back in time for prom, so we can enroll in college classes together like we planned."

Bonnie squeezed her friend's hands. ""That's amazing. I'm so happy for you, Care."

"Thanks, Bon," Caroline squeezes back, then chews on her bottom lip, "have you talked to Jeremy since you got back?"

"No," Bonnie sighs, "and honestly I don't even know if we have anything left to say to each other."

Caroline clucks a noise of sympathy, then quickly smiles again, patting Bonnie's belly. "Jeremy can do whatever he wants. You don't need romance anyway, you have bigger things to think about."

She feels a tug, something between deja vu and the shame of concealment. There's things she wants to confide in Caroline, feelings and desires she isn't sure what to do with that come wrapped in the scent of smoke and watercolors and fresh grass, that sound like footsteps down a hallway from her bedroom, that burn like amber eyes and a voice saying only, Stay.

But she shoves those thoughts aside, closing the lid above them like a secret for the darkness and the moths.

It's past dinnertime when Caroline drops her home after extorting a promise to shop for baby clothes together. Bonnie waves her off, and finds Anaïs and Rudy huddled together on the makeshift bed in his study while the TV bathes them in flickering light. Her head is nestled on his shoulder, their ankles twined together.

She feels like an intruder, something to remain hidden.

Even her bedroom that was once her haven is small and strange now, the bed hurts her back and the air freshener smells cloyingly sweet. It's only been a week and she misses Montana - its crisp mountain air and soft blue skies - already. She misses the sound of Monique playing video-games (Klaus had surprised her with a Playstation some weeks ago) and Klaus moving around in his studio.

Bonnie picks up her phone and scrolls until she reaches his number. She closes and re-opens her home screen four times before finally hitting 'Call'.

She heard his steps before he knocked. Wrapping her bathrobe around herself and sweeping her wet hair over one shoulder, Bonnie opened the door to find Klaus' tall frame looming in her doorway while he looked at something on his phone.

The sun hadn't fully risen, and his face was unreadable in the half light. But there was a quiet, almost soft quality to his voice when he spoke. "Have you managed to talk to him?"

"No, he's still unconscious. Dr. Fell said it's only a mild concussion but -," she bit her lip, playing with the ends of her hair and searching for words. "So, I know we didn't really discuss terms when we left Mystic Falls -,"

"But you wish to go see your father," he finished.

Her face lifted in surprise, searching his own. He handed her his phone and her eyes drift to the screen, reading the words and numbers there. One first class ticket to Virginia, with her name as passenger.

"Your flight leaves in the late afternoon, so unless you wish to incur Gloria's wrath I would get some rest." He adds, at her quizzical look. "I heard you, pacing up and down like a ferret." It's true, ever since Caroline's text four hours ago she'd been unable to sit still.

"Klaus I-," she looked at the travel details again, a slight frown appearing on her face. "This is a one way ticket."

"Yes well, your father might not want to relinquish your company too quickly, given that your presence is..." He met her eyes, his gaze disarmingly sincere, "...particularly comforting during such times."

Her neck grew warm, and she shuffled her feet a little. "That's me, your resident Florence Nightingale."

He pretended to shudder ."Perish the thought, love. The 'lady with the lamp' was a right old shrew when no one was looking."

"You knew Florence Nightingale?"

"'Know' is a strong word. She quite enjoyed glaring at me whenever we crossed paths...," a teasing glint entered his eye, "ah, perhaps there is a resemblance."

She rolled her eyes before voicing the other concern rattling in her head. "What about Monique?"

"Oh I suppose I could feed and and water her as needed."

"Klaus-"

"Calm your ruffled feathers, witch. The little wolf will be cared for."

"You just enjoy aggravating me don't you?"

A slow smile crept along the corner of his mouth. "Immensely."

She made a huffing noise, and he reached out a hand to cup her cheek. His touch was warm, heavy with gentleness.

"Go to your father. Stay as long as you need."

She leaned into his palm almost instinctively. The callused skin felt familiar, even safe. It wasn't a feeling she could explain or understand, but something alive and natural as the morning sun or dew on the grass. She wanted to forget those parts of the world that existed outside of this enclave, to refuse all other logics but this. She wanted to stay, here.

"I'm coming back," she said quietly.

Her promise was a stone sinking into water. And whether the ripples touched his feet, he didn't say.

He answers on the third ring.

"Hello, love."

"...hi," she says awkwardly.

"Something you need?" it's a casual enough question, but his deep voice makes her toes curl a little and she wants to hide all over again, although for entirely different reasons.

"I - just wanted to talk to Monique." It's not completely a lie, Bonnie reasons with herself.

"Ah, well let me pry her from the clutch of the television."

"Thanks..."

She hears him move through the house, up the stairs. His silent, faraway presence comforts her far more than it should.

"How are you faring in our erstwhile hometown?" he questions, startling her.

I feel like a stranger in the house I grew up in. The neighbors look at me like I'm bringing dishonor to the whole village by being pregnant. The baby moved again last night and I thought about you saying "butterflies". I miss the taste of that dumb breakfast porridge you make. I miss your notes and your ridiculous handwriting. I miss -

"I'm fine," she says, lightly.

There's a pause like he's formulating a response. But it passes, and she hears him hand the phone to Monique.

The girl's voice rings bright and clear, instantly lifting Bonnie's mood."Bonnie! Guess what? Hogwarts got me the new Dragon Age."

"I'm sure he did. Have you done your reading?"

"Yeah," Monique grumbles, "he wouldn't give me the game unless I finished."

Bonnie feels her mouth move in a smile. She cradles the phone on her shoulder like a talisman.

"Tell me what else you did today."

A/N: Thank you for all your reviews and follows! Do let me know your thoughts in the reviews xoxoxo