A/N: Argh, I'm sorry, it's been a month. All I can say is: four AP classes. Sob. To all of those who have been reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing this story, thank you to the moon and back. Each notification makes me smile.

The last chapter was essentially all fluff, while this chapter is a mixture. I'll admit: it's heavy at first. Really heavy. It answers questions that (hopefully) you've all been wondering: why did Grace kill her uncle, and why did her mother leave? This explains that. It's pretty dark, and includes mentions and flashbacks of attempted child sexual abuse before the murder itself, so if that's too much, feel free to skip ahead to the lighter stuff later on. Essentially, passages in italics will either be a flashback or dream related to that.

I tried to make up for the heavier stuff with some nice Klaroline moments and humor. I hope you guys like this one; I put a ton of effort into it. Please read, review, and enjoy (like, don't enjoy the sad parts, you know what I mean). Thanks so much! :D

Warning: Mentions, flashback, and nightmare of attempted sexual abuse on a child from her uncle. Subsequent murder (which is self-defense) of said uncle by child. Attempted murder of child by mother.

Disclaimer: I own nothing and nobody but Grace. I certainly don't own the Disney songs "Hakuna Matata" from The Lion King and "Kiss the Girl" from The Little Mermaid.

Chapter 10: Dark Past, Bright Future

The second Klaus mentioned offhandedly that Caroline's father was murdered, I demanded for him to drop me off at her house, furious that he hadn't said anything earlier. And that's why I stood on her porch with a fancy French pastry that Klaus ordered specially for her. He didn't like her my ass.

I obnoxiously pounded on the door until she opened it up, squinting out at me with puffy, red-rimmed eyes. "Gracie?" She rubbed at her sticky cheeks. "What're you doing here?"

She was a mess. Her normally perfect waves of blonde tresses were strewn all over her shoulders as if she'd just survived a tornado, but barely. Her bright, cornflower blue eyes were magnified with tears but dulled from grief, and her face was bare of any and all makeup. Briefly, I listened inside for any heartbeats, and wondered why her none of her friends or mom were inside with her. Didn't they care?

Oh well, I'd care enough for all of them.

I gave her a sympathetic little smile, and held out the pastry. "I heard about your dad. Since my daddy died more than a month ago, I thought I could help."

With a hesitantly offered hand, she reached for the dessert, and peeked inside the container. "This isn't a casserole," she murmured with the ghost of a smile. "This is better." Sweeping out an arm, she opened up her door wider. "Come in. My mom's at work. She can't get away from it, I guess." Her lips pursed together, and she fiddled with a stray string on her blouse. Clearly, she was displeased about that. "Elena's been spending most of her time with the Salvatores. They're all worried about the Originals. Frankly, I don't care about any of that, but try telling that to Damon. Bonnie's been good to me, though. She only just left."

The last time I was in her house, it was when Tyler had bitten her and she almost died. Hopefully, one day, I'd be invited in on happier circumstances. "I've been hanging in there," she continued once the silence had stretched on for a few beats too long, after placing the pastry on the kitchen counter. Some people were content with comfortable silences and didn't feel the need to fill them. She was not one of those people. "It's been hard, though. He left my mom and me when I was about your age," I inclined my head, surprised, "for a man, but I still loved him. He was awful near the end. He tortured me when he found out I was a vampire. He hated what I was." More tears flooded her eyes, sharpening their rich color and offering contrast between the blue and surrounding red. "But he was my daddy."

He tortured her? Then what was she crying over? I would've spat on his grave. But I remembered that it was more complicated than that, and how lots of people in the know felt about vampires. Maybe he thought she wasn't his daughter anymore.

But that didn't make it okay.

"It's not gonna stop hurting," I said softly, deciding to comfort her rather than trash his memory, and she sniffled pathetically, moisture spilling down her pasty cheeks. "You'll never stop missing him. The hole in your chest will feel like it'll tear you apart from the inside out. Like you can't breathe. But you'll get used to the hurt. It makes you stronger." I sat next to her on the couch and reached for one of her hands, intertwining my fingers with hers. "And one day, you'll wake up, and you can breathe again." Grief washed over me in one enormous wave, and my chest ached for my own daddy. I wasn't quite there yet, but I was a survivor. "I'm just starting to learn how to breathe again. I think Klaus is learning with me."

Pitiful sobs racked through her slender form and I wrapped my arms around her neck, allowing her to lean against my shoulder. "I-I don't know i-if I c-can," she blubbered into my teal-shaded sweater. "I-I miss him s-so much. I-It's eating m-me up." She pounded her fist against her chest as if trying to restart her heart. "I-It hurts so b-bad. I'll never s-see him again."

"Just get through the day," I coaxed her. "Don't think about the rest of your life. Just take it one step at a time and you'll start to deal with the hurt. It'll always be part of you, but you'll learn to live with it. And one day, it won't be so bad and you'll realize how much stronger you are because of it, not despite of it."

Wow, that might've been the smartest thing I ever said. I mentally patted myself on the back. Had I read that in a book somewhere? I couldn't believe I came up with that all on my own.

Pulling away, still teary-eyed and blotchy-faced, she demanded, "How are you so wise? Your father only died like a month and a half ago. Surely you haven't fully adapted."

Somberly, I shook my head. "My mama left for good more than a year ago. She might as well be dead. I'm an orphan now."

Hastily, she brushed the last of her tears off her cheeks, scoffing at herself. "Here I am, an eighteen-year-old vampire crying on an eight-year-old orphan's shoulder when I lost only one parent - a parent who was barely around and tortured me. I'm pathetic."

Guilt churned in my stomach; somehow, I only made her more upset! "No, no," I denied quickly. "That's not it at all. I was a lot sadder about my daddy, anyway. You're allowed to be sad about your daddy, too. My mama tried to kill me before she left so I wasn't too sad when she was gone."

Caroline's delicate, golden eyebrows scrunched together as her eyes widened in horror. "Your mom tried to kill you?" She started to shake her head, fighting to disbelieve me. "When my dad . . . hurt me, he was trying to fix me. Change my nature. But he didn't try to kill me. No, I can't believe that. T-That's horrible."

"She stabbed me," I said simply, and a strangled gasp rose from her throat as her hand flew to her mouth. "She stabbed me in the stomach, and would've stabbed me in the heart if my daddy hadn't come home and stopped her."

Poor Caroline's lips trembled as she struggled with her shock and disgust. "How," she eventually croaked, "did you survive?"

"I'd just triggered my werewolf curse," I explained, a chill running up and down my spine at the memory. "I killed my uncle, her little brother. I guess she loved him more than she loved me."

"You told me that before," she murmured, then clarified at my questioning glance, "that you killed your uncle when you were seven. If you don't mind me asking . . . why? Why'd you do it?"

A shiver trailed through my skin and gave me goosebumps, and suddenly, I felt cold. Like a glacier was stirring inside of me, freezing everything in its icy path. I'd only told Daddy before, and even then, it was basic. He'd been furious, though. Beyond furious. Angrier than I'd ever seen him. "He was staying with us during part of the summer before he went back to college. It started when he made me watch movies with him in his bedroom. My mama was grocery shopping. I didn't understand the movies, but he liked them a whole lot. The people were naked and he made me sit on his lap."

A green tint washed over Caroline's pale skin, and she was speechless. Looking down at my jean-clad knees, I explained, "I didn't like watching those, but he wouldn't let me leave until they were done." I shuddered. I never wanted to watch anything like that ever again. "One day, he said he wanted to try some of that stuff on me."

Her now wavering hand shifted to cover her mouth. "Oh my God. Oh my God."

My own hands trembled at the memory. "He started touching my thigh and I got scared and ran. I locked myself in the bathroom, and he told me through the door if I said anything he would kill me. Then my mama came home, so he left me alone."

Now, she was as white as a ghost. "Then what?" she asked, her voice small and timid. She didn't want to hear the answer. I didn't blame her.

A lump swelled up in my throat. "A week later, my mama was shopping again and my daddy was at work. My uncle was gone for the morning, but he came back when I was watching TV." I remembered distinctly how my stomach had dropped as his key wobbled in the lock. "He was drunk, and I got scared again, and hid in the kitchen. But he followed me. He kept saying stuff that I didn't understand. All the things that . . . that he wanted to do to me and all the things that he wanted me to do to him." When I asked my daddy about it much later, he told me never to say those things around him again, or he would lose his mind.

Caroline's breaths hitched, quick and uneven, and I wasn't in a much better state. "I didn't get it, but I knew he wanted to hurt me. Hurt me real bad." My heart had been about to pound out of my chest. "I was so scared."

"Graciiiieeeee," my uncle taunted as he stumbled into the kitchen doorway. "Gracie Luciiiiiile. Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

I was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane as I ducked into the cabinets underneath the sink, shutting them behind me as quietly as I possibly could. "Come on, Gracie, don't you want to play with your favorite uncle?"

I covered my mouth and nose with clammy fingers so he couldn't hear my ragged breathing. Don't find me, don't find me, don't find me, I thought over and over again. I prayed to a God I wasn't so sure I believed in for him to leave me alone. That was all I asked. For him to please, please, please leave me alone.

God didn't hear me. Or maybe he didn't care, but either way, the cabinet doors flew open, and there revealed was my uncle's youthful, mischievous face. He was smiling, but it was a cold smile. So cold. "Boo."

A scream erupted from my throat as he lunged for my elbow, hauling me out from under the sink as I punched and kicked and bucked to break free, fighting for what could've been my life for all I knew. "Let me go, let me go, let me go!"

One of my wild fists made contact with his jaw with a strength I didn't know I possessed, and he howled at the sudden bout of pain. I wrenched out of his iron-clad grip and ran like hell, only making it to the end of the stretch of tiles before he dove for my ankles, sending me crashing to the floor.

It was a blur after that. His hands tried to roam in places they had no business being, and I struggled with all my might. As he attempted to hike up my dress, I made a leap of faith for a knife Mama had left out with a loaf of bread when she'd made turkey sandwiches earlier. Fumbling for the handle, I turned around and let my innate werewolf instincts control me.

I forced the knife forward, and then there was red.

It was as if every drop of blood had drained from Caroline's pretty face, where she finally took after the walking corpse she actually was. She didn't say anything for a very long time after I finished my story. It was as if she'd forgotten how to speak.

"Caroline?" I promoted, squirming in my seat. What was she thinking? Was she disgusted in me? Did she no longer want to be my friend? Did she hate me now? "Please say something."

"I don't know what to say," she eventually whispered, steel flickering across her watery, distant eyes. "I'm glad that son of a bitch is dead. If I had the chance, I would've killed him myself. And I - I don't say that. Like, ever. But I mean it. I wish I could bring him back to life just to kill him all over again."

That brought a swell of warmth inside my chest, blossoming like a red rose in the springtime. Who knew the concept of death could bring me such comfort? I leaned into her side, and she immediately wrapped her arms around me, like I'd done earlier for her. "I wish my mama had felt the same," I said, despondent.

"Did you explain yourself? Surely she'd understand that you had to defend yourself," she insisted. "Children come first."

I smiled sadly. "Not to her."

He was dead. His common, drunken brown eyes were glazed over with nothingness as he bled out all over the kitchen tiles. There was so, so much blood. It was all over me. My hands, my dress, my mind. My soul.

I wasn't sure how long I sat there. Enough for my werewolf gene to awaken and for an unbearable heat to travel through my body and only eventually fade away. At the time, I didn't know what was happening to me, but in my shock, I didn't care a whole lot. I'd just killed somebody. No, I just killed my own uncle.

The front door creaked open, and my heart stopped in my chest. A buzz of terror wracked my limbs. "Gracie, I'm home," Mama called cheerfully from the living room. "Help me put the groceries away and I might just sneak you some ice cream before dinner. I have good news to tell you when Daddy gets home." Silence.

"Gracie . . . ?"

. . . The strangled scream that erupted from her as she stumbled upon the crime scene was like nothing I'd ever heard before in my whole life. It was a noise of utter heartbreak.

"Lucas!" she screeched, dropping to her knees. His growing puddles of blood drenched her old jeans. "Oh God, oh God, no!" She pressed onto the gaping hole in his chest, frantically trying to stop the bleeding. It didn't work. He lay there, perfectly still. "No, no, no, please, no . . ."

"Mama," I whispered, and she turned around, ever so slowly. I had never before seen that look in her eye as she looked me up and down. The newfound darkness and loathing that swirled in the depths of her soul as she realized what I did.

"You," she monotoned. "You killed my brother."

I didn't stop her as she flipped me over her lap, her hand raining blows down on my backside, harder than ever before. Soon enough, though, something in her changed. I was not the errant child she was punishing for misbehavior. Her open palm curled up into a fist and she began to pound it against my legs. I morphed before her very eyes into something else entirely. I wasn't her daughter anymore - no, I was the creature who murdered her baby brother.

"You killed my brother!" she raged as she shoved me viciously off her lap, punching me with a deranged fury that left me a whimpering mound on the floor. "You killed my brother, you killed my brother, you killed my brother!"

"Mama, please!" I pleaded in-between hits, cowering away from her. "He touched me in bad places, he was trying to hurt me -"

"Don't lie to me!"

"I'm not lying," I sobbed. "P-Please believe me. Please, I'm b-begging you, believe m-me!"

She only kept hitting and hitting and hitting me. I would've been a horrible mess of blood and bruises if I hadn't healed so damn fast. In her equal amount of confusion and frustration, she reached for a knife. "You killed my brother. You're a monster. A demon. You deserve this. You deserve to die like he did."

"Mama, don't - !" The first thrust sent a foreign rush of white-hot agony through me, and I choked as she removed it only to stick it inside me once more. Blood gushed around the steel in a waterfall of crimson.

Ripping it out of me, she positioned it over my chest, and I didn't see my mama no more. "You. Killed. My. Brother."

The tip of it only pierced my skin when Daddy charged in like a wild bull, shouting and hollering and tackling her to the ground. "Get off her!" he bellowed, pinning her to the messy, blood-stained tiles as he wrestled for the knife. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"She killed Lucas!" Mama shrieked back, fighting against his grip like a madwoman.

Despite himself, Daddy spared a glance at my uncle's corpse. He never liked my uncle much. It didn't faze him. As Mama raked her fingernails across his cheek, he threw a fist at Mama's nose, snapping her head back, and he scrambled to get a better grip on her shoulders. "She's our daughter; our little girl! She comes first, she always comes first!"

Numbly, I watched the wounds in my stomach heal into perfect, unmarked skin. I didn't understand, but I didn't understand much of anything that happened in the last ten minutes. My own mama tried to kill me. Nothing was real anymore.

Daddy ended up stealing the knife away from her, and they screamed at each other so loudly the house trembled in fear on its frame. I slipped away and hid in the closet, trying my hardest not to bawl my eyes out. I was so, so, so scared. I hoped to everything good and holy that I would never have to feel like that again. Clasping my blood-stained fingers together, I prayed.

"I'm leaving!" Mama ended up screeching like a banshee. And to think, she'd called me a demon. "You're choosing that - that freak over your own wife?!" Tears flooded my eyes. A freak. She thought I was a freak, and a monster, and a demon. "Fine, then. So be it. I'm leaving the both of you!"

"Of course I'm choosing her over you! What the hell did you think was going to happen, huh? Huh?! You tried to kill my baby girl. She is and will always be the most important thing in my life. Get the fuck out of this house!" he roared at the top of his lungs. "Get the fuck out, and never come back! Come back, and I'll kill you dead!"

The door slammed so hard on its hinges that the closet rattled. I sobbed into my folded knees, finally daring to make noise now that she was gone. The closet door wrenched open, and there stood my daddy in all his bloody glory, despair written all over his reddened face. "I'm so sorry, baby." He scooped me up into his arms, and I wept into his plaid-covered shoulder. "You're safe now. You'll always be safe with me. I love you so much."

"I love you too, Daddy," I whispered into his neck. "Never leave me."

"I won't, Gracie. I promise. I'll never leave you."

By the time I was finished with my story, Caroline was in tears again. But then again, so was I. "I can't believe a mother would try to kill her own child," she choked out. "You even told her the truth, but still, she loved him more."

Scrubbing away my own sticky cheeks with my sweater sleeves, I explained tiredly, "My grandpa was a drunk who liked to beat his family, and my grandma was weak. My mama basically raised my uncle."

"But you were her daughter," she stressed, still aghast. "That trumps any sibling card."

"I don't really wanna talk about it anymore." What was done was done. Somehow, I'd managed to accept what happened, even though I didn't understand it. She used to tell me how much she loved me, but it all went down the drains in a span of two minutes when she caught a glimpse her little brother's corpse. It was as if she'd never loved me at all. Maybe she didn't.

Maybe she never loved me.

Clearing my head of those ugly thoughts, I perked up, an idea springing to my mind. I could still salvage the rest of the day. "You should come to my home. You ain't gonna feel better if you sit an empty house and cry alone. You can sleep over."

She half-heartedly scoffed, still trying to internalize all that I'd told her. "In a house full of Originals? They'll murder me in my sleep."

"Klaus won't," I said innocently. Maybe this wasn't the time to play matchmaker, but she needed distraction and frankly, so did I. "C'mon, do it for me. You're closer to my age than any of them, anyhow. If you have one, we can watch movies on your laptop and bake stuff. They don't have a TV. It sucks."

It didn't take much longer to convince her, which showed that she was aching for some company - or at the very least, something to do other than cry. All I had to do was promise to keep her away from the Mikaelsons to the best of my ability. Which would be hard, considering how nosy most of them were, but she didn't have to know that.

After sending a quick text to her mom that said she was sleeping over at Elena's and packing up an overnight bag, she drove me to the Mikaelson mansion with my vague, confused directions. I called Klaus on her phone, and if Caroline hadn't had vampire hearing, I think he would've yelled at me a lot more.

Once I hung up, Caroline complained, "I can't believe I'm doing this." She snuck a mild glare in my direction. "No, I can't believe you're making me do this." She nervously pushed a strand of platinum blonde hair behind her ear. "Rebekah the blood slut hates me, and then there's Klaus."

"You and Bekah could be friends, ya know," I pointed out, and she wrinkled her nose in disgust. "You're basically the same person. Blonde, pretty, popular, smart."

"We are nothing alike," she argued.

"And petty," I added as if she hadn't said anything.

"I am not petty." I stared at her until she relented, "Okay, maybe I'm a little petty. But just a little bit. Only sometimes." I stayed silent. I knew her type. "Fine, fine, whatever, I'm petty and shallow and insignificant. I get it."

"I never said you were that last one." I didn't say it aloud in case I pronounced it wrong. This was not the time for Caroline to correct me again. "Why, do you think that?"

"What? No." Her knuckles clenched white around the steering wheel. "Okay, maybe a little bit. I mean, you live with the Originals. They're, like, a billion years old. They've seen the whole world and I've never even left Mystic Falls."

"Hey, they're only a million years old," I corrected, as was our inside joke, and she giggled despite herself. "And besides, you're a vampire. You can do whatever you want now. Ain't nobody's going to stop you."

"Nobody is," she muttered under her breath, and I fought the urge to punch her perfect white teeth in. It was as if her only duty in life was to correct my grammar. She and Elijah were going to be the death of me. "But I get your point." The poor girl gnawed on her lip as she pulled into Klaus's long driveway. "Why am I doing this? Klaus is horrible. He's a monster."

"Not to me." Okay, it was mostly the truth. I had to talk him up, anyhow, or else they'd never fall in love and get married and live happily ever after. Duh. "And not to you."

"He tried to have me killed," she bit.

"And then he saved your life."

"It doesn't count when he put it in jeopardy in the first place."

I eyed her knowingly. "Did you keep the bracelet and drawing he gave you?" Dead silence. "Ah ha. If you hate him so much, then why'd you keep those?"

She reached for her seat belt and unbuckled it as slowly as physically possible, trying to avoid the question. Finally, she muttered "Shut up" under her breath, and I reveled in my victory. She slung her sleeping bag around her shoulder as I exited the car. Klaus was walking down the driveway with an irritating smirk on his face. "I thought you said it would be the two of us," she hissed down at me, and all I could do was shrug helplessly.

"Caroline." There was something special about the way Klaus said her name, as if he savored each syllable while it fell from his lips like a prayer. "I heard about your father."

"I don't want to talk about it," she cut him off tersely, then softened. "Thanks for the pastry, though. I'm sure you've been to France more times than you can count."

Klaus's smirk returned. "I have. Paris is lovely this time of year. Dare I say, almost as lovely as you." If I had the ability to whistle, I would have. That man was smooth. All I had to do was bring her to him and he could work his magic on her. Gahdamn.

The slightest tinge of crimson blossomed in Caroline's porcelain cheeks. He caught her off guard. "Yes, well," she cleared her throat, "thank you, I guess."

"You're welcome, I guess." Turning her nose up in the air, Caroline stalked toward down the driveway. Klaus, meanwhile, lifted me up and propped me onto his hip. Instantly, I was suspicious. Klaus never picked me up without a good reason. "What are you playing at?" he breathed into my ear, quietly enough that even with Caroline's vampire hearing, she wouldn't be able to eavesdrop. "Because, from my perspective, a rather naughty little girl is getting herself involved in matters that don't involve her."

Well, he wasn't wrong. I leaned my head against his shoulder so he couldn't see my own smirk - jeez, I'd been spending way too much time with his family, even Finn smirked like it was his job - and whispered back, "Your perspective is dumb and so are you."

"Is that so?" His quick, nimble fingers found their way under my arms and he began to tickle me without a smidgen of mercy. "And to think, I thought we enjoyed each other's company due to our shared intellect, but color me surprised," I shrieked with laughter as he dug into my ribcage, and Caroline spun around, a clearly fought-against but still infectious smile tugging at her lips, "that evidently I'm incorrect!"

"F-Fine!" I howled between giggles, "you're not stupid, you're smart!" He stopped immediately, and just like that, set me down on my feet. Mischievously, I revealed crossed fingers from behind my back, and he narrowed his eyes. Before he could do anything, I bolted behind Caroline. "Save me!"

"You're in for it this time," Klaus growled, but there was a clear note of amusement in his tone. He blurred forward, placing his hands on each side of Caroline's hips. She opened her mouth to protest, but before she could, he physically moved her out of the way. "Apologies, love. I have a miscreant to attend to."

Smiling from ear to ear, I pounced on him before he could make the first move, clinging onto his back and winding my arms around my neck. "You can't catch me," I taunted into his dark, close-cropped blond hair. "You can't catch me, you can't catch me, you can't catch m- oof." He somehow managed to flip me over his shoulder and pin me against his chest. My head spun. "Hey, that's not fair!"

"All is fair in love and war, sweetheart," Klaus remarked. Didn't Katherine say the same thing? Dang, they were similar.

Latching onto his words, I grinned an evil smile and wiggled my eyebrows up at him. "Aw, 'cause you loooooooooove me?" He didn't bother to respond, but something warm and soft and real entered his ocean-blue eyes. He didn't need to say anything at all. I knew then and there he loved me. "I love you too," I whispered, and he gave me a gentle squeeze.

His eyes flashed gold, and my wolf stirred inside me, my eyes surely reflecting his. A growl rumbled deep in his chest, and he clutched me closer to him. I echoed his growl, albeit at a much higher octave. His lips twitched upward.

"Any day now," Caroline grumbled from ahead, although she was smiling too. Unfortunately, as Klaus returned her gaze, a flash of color caught his eye - which happened to be my red Converse shoe dangling from my bedroom window from over a week back. He arched a brow.

"Gracie, sweetheart, why is one of your shoes attached to the second story rooftop?"

Well, I was boned. I shrugged, and he raised his other eyebrow. "I dunno," I mumbled, staring at a very interesting thread of string poking from his shirt collar. "It was when you were being mean, so I snuck out and saved Caroline and you were being mean and I fell off the roof and did I mention you were being mean -"

"You fell off the roof?" Klaus and Caroline echoed at the same time. I buried my face in Klaus's shoulder to hide my mischievous grin. They sounded like disgruntled parents scolding their unruly child - me. Part of it was my imagination running wild, but I could make something out of that. Something good. Something great. "Bloody hell," Klaus continued, as I didn't utter a peep, "did you hurt yourself?"

"I only broke my wrists a little bit." I cringed at their mutual unimpressed expressions. "I healed quick."

"Quickly," Caroline muttered under her breath, and I gave her the death glare of the century. My hands were itching to wrap around her pretty ivory threat, and slowly but surely squeeze the life out of -

"Now, now, sweetheart, no need to kill with any looks," Klaus chided. Evidently, though, he let it roll off his shoulders. "No changing it now. Sneak out again and you'll sleep with the fishes." Caroline's features fell slack, and he rolled his eyes. "I'm kidding, love. It's been known to happen."

"Oh yeah, you're a real jokester," she deadpanned. "Such the comedian. I'll make sure to tell Elena and what's left of her family." Ouch. Klaus's smile faded, and Caroline flipped her waves of blonde hair over her left shoulder, straightening her spine. "Well. Are we going to stand out here all day, or are you going to show me inside?"

Klaus led the way inside the mansion. I eagerly anticipated Caroline's reaction. Despite all of Klaus's flaws, he had a true eye for art, and no matter how much most people loathed his very existence, they couldn't deny it. Proving my prediction correct, her eyes popped wide and sparkled in wonder at the glorious mansion interior. "Oh . . . wow."

Klaus could have looked a little less smug about it, but she was impressed, and that was what mattered. My stomach sank as Bekah strolled in from another room. As much as I adored her, she and Caroline were a shitstorm waiting to happen. And the only reason she was greeting the younger blonde was to rile her up. Thankfully, I listened hard for other heartbeats, and only heard Elijah in the library and Esther and Finn somewhere further off on the second floor.

"Caroline." Bekah's lips pulled apart into a sharp, fake smile as she reached us. "How lovely it is to see you again."

Caroline mirrored her, and I saw the "mean girl" personas unfolding from both of them. Throw in Regina George and it'd be a real party. "Rebekah. Likewise."

"It's delightful how you've decided to befriend our little Gracie here," Bekah continued, not even trying to hide her possessiveness. "She does have a way of seeing the best," her eyes raked up and down Caroline's form, aloof, "in people."

Caroline's hands flew to her hips. "Gee, I wonder how she managed that with you." Bekah's smile twisted into a grimace.

"You are in our home," Bekah hissed, her blue eyes glinting dangerously. "Show some respect."

"I call it like I see it," Caroline retorted. The two girls crossed their arms at the same time, donning similar expressions of hearty distaste.

Klaus's intent gaze flitted between the two blondes as he stood there, thoroughly amused. "The claws are out and sharpened, I see."

"Oh, shut up," Caroline snapped right as Bekah bit, "Cram it, Nik." Normally, if Klaus wasn't in such a pleasant mood, that could have gone terribly wrong, in which both girls would end up injured or maimed or dead somehow. Luckily, Klaus maintained his good humor.

"Did I touch a nerve?"

"All right, all right!" I interrupted, done with all their stupid drama. Before any feelings could be hurt or skulls stomped on, I tugged on Caroline's hand away from the two devious Mikaelsons and into the kitchen as Bekah rolled her eyes after us.

Kol had made me breakfast this morning because he felt guilty - well, he didn't, but he pretended to for Elijah's sake - for almost killing me and all that. He apparently liked to cook, and he did it well, because the cabinets were stocked full of ingredients of every variety. Including a brownie mix Klaus compelled one of his servants to buy on my behalf.

"Let's bake stuff!" I cried, plopping down onto the floor and beginning to unload the brownie supplies. Truth be told, I was a disaster in the kitchen, inherited from my daddy, but it was still fun. Like science experiments, but somewhat edible - depending on how badly I burnt it.

"Do you know how to bake?" Caroline inquired dubiously. She crossed her arms and cocked her hips. "Because if you think I'm doing all the work, you're mistaken, little miss."

I batted my eyelashes at her, all innocent-like. "Of course I'll help."

Caroline tweaked a brow. "Mmmhmm."

Twenty Minutes Later . . .

I did help. Sort of. If "help" was defined as blasting Disney songs from Caroline's laptop and dancing wildly around the kitchen, often getting in her way as she actually attempted to bake. "Hakuna matataaaa, what a wonderful phraaaaze -"

I pointed at her, grinning, for her to sing the second verse, and she sang quietly as she cracked eggs into the bowl, "Hakuna matata, ain't no passing craze . . . It means no worries, for the rest of your days." Playfully, she tossed her hair back and forth in the rhythm of her stirs. "It's our problem-free philosophy . . . Hakuna matata!" Reaching over, she smudged flour onto my nose from where I sat on the floor, making me giggle. "Start it off, kiddo. Why, when he was a young warthog!"

I sucked in a deep breath, wetting my lips. "When I was a young warthoooOOOOOoooooooog -"

"Our very own little prima donna," drifted from the doorway, where a greatly amused Klaus loomed. "Honestly, sweetheart, sing louder - I don't believe the rest of Mystic Falls heard you." I wrinkled my nose up at him, deciding to take offense, and he glided in, flicking me on the forehead as he went by. "Making suitable use of our kitchen, Caroline? You seem to be making yourself right at home." He gestured to the mess of flour and egg shells and butter on the counter.

Caroline brushed off his backhanded remarks, turning off the music. "If you're here to sneak a taste of our brownies, then you'll be sorely disappointed," she informed him.

"It's my house, love," he said, folding his hands behind his back in his "I'm saying something clever and diabolical and superior" stance. "My ingredients."

"Yeah, well, that's what you think." She continued to stir vigorously. "You can eat it when the rest of us do. Just because you're a psychotic, homicidal maniac doesn't mean you have special brownie privileges."

Klaus drew a hand dramatically to his chest. "You wound me, Caroline! Oh, how you loathe me." He leaned in over her shoulder, brushing up against her and making her cringe. "Tell me. Does it ever get exhausting up on your high horse?"

Caroline sniffed, jutting her chin outward in a display of stubbornness. "No. There's a nice breeze up here." He chuckled lowly, and she shifted away from him. "Now, if you don't mind, Gracie and I are baking."

Klaus glanced down at me. "I wasn't aware this was a joint effort."

I furrowed my brow and huffed. "I'll have you know that -"

"That does smell delicious, Caroline," he talked smoothly over me, and I squawked. "I must know. What will you do once you finish with them, eat them yourself or prance along and hand them off to orphans and hungry squirrels?"

"So you think I'm all self-righteous?" she retorted. "Hardly. You're just wrong about everything."

"Everything, love? I find that hard to believe. I've survived this long, after all."

She turned towards him for the first time in the conversation, pushing the bowl away. "Completely based off your wits and charm, I assume."

"You assume correctly."

"Oh, hardy har har."

"I cannot help the truth, sweetheart."

"Yeah, your truth -"

I had to stop myself from throwing up my hands into a victorious fist pump. They were talking. They were talking. And she wasn't dying from a werewolf bite this time. It was like a dream come true.

Sly as a fox, I shuffled over to the laptop as they continued to bicker - Klaus with mirth, Caroline with mild annoyance - and scrolled through her Disney playlist. Finally arriving onto my desired song, I pressed it and then slunk out of the kitchen. "Percussion. Strings. Winds. Words." They didn't notice, and grinning, I left the two lovebirds to themselves.

"There you see her." I scrambled up the main, winding staircase. "Sitting there across the way." As I tuned in to their conversation, I tripped over a step and face-planted, nearly killing myself - but quickly recovered. "She don't got a lot to say." My chin ached. "But there's something about her."

Once I reached the second floor, mostly intact, I ducked behind a bannister and waited eagerly for the magic to begin. "And you don't know why, but you're dying to try, you wanna kiss the girl."

'Kiss the goddamn girl, Klaus,' I almost shouted downstairs, but caught myself at the last second. That would ruin the moment. "Yes, you want her." He totally did. "Look at her, you know you do." Duh. She was gorgeous. "It's possible she wants you too." Humph, please. A little more than just possible. It was destiny all the way. "There's only one way to ask her." I clasped my hands together like an evil genius, because dammit, that was what I was. "It don't take a word, not a single word. Go on and kiss the girl . . ."

"Kiss the girl," I whispered into the polished wood of the bannister. "Kiss the girl, Klaus, you doof, kiss the freakin' girl -"

"Grace?"

I couldn't help myself. I jumped, and banged my head against the wall, groaning. "Aw, shit!"

Elijah stood over me with a deep frown. "Language, little girl - honestly, who taught you such profanity?" I shrugged, sheepish; lots of people had. My daddy being a prime suspect. Shaking his head at me disapprovingly, he continued, "What in the world are you doing?"

I opened my mouth but no words came out. How could I possibly explain myself? Elijah then listened to the lyrics of the song floating up the stairs, and the tiniest of understanding smirks graced his lips. "Oh, you little troublemaker."

I squeaked in protest as he scooped me up from the floor, positioning me up onto his hip. "Now, now, child," he chided without any real heat, walking down the staircase with me safely in his clutch, "it's not polite to meddle."

"I'm not meddling." He gave me a look, one of those 'I know exactly what you're doing so cut the shit' looks that adults so often rewarded me with. I jutted out my lower lip in one of my best puppy-dog pouts, but it had no effect on him. He was made of stronger stuff. "Maybe a little bit."

"Hmm. Take heed to limit yourself."

"I will!" Hiding a smile, I crossed my fingers behind his back.

I was running for my life as fast as I could. Someone was after me, a man. He wanted to hurt me. He wanted to hurt me really bad. "Graaaaacciiie. Graaaaaciiiiee Luuuuccciiiillleeeee."

I entered a room, in which the walls were covered from floor to ceiling with cupboards. Relief charged through me at the sight of all the hiding spots. I dove forward, and reached for the nearest one, pulling it back and - It didn't budge. Much to my horror, it was glued to the wall.

I tried the next one. It was equally stuck. Then the next one, and the next one, and the next one -

"Graaaaaccciiiiie. Come out and play!"

I spun around, gasping, as a hand clamped down on my shoulder. My uncle's youthful, leering face hovered over me, and hands sprouted from all over his body, hands that pinned me to the floor and touched me and brought me terror.

And then there was the knife. The lone, gleaming deli knife that rested in the middle of the tiled floor, the only item in the whole room. It was waiting for me, waiting, waiting, waiting -

Somehow, I squirmed away from him, and lunged for the knife. My fingers found its cool, rough handle, and then my body moved of its own accord. I twisted around, and forced the knife into his chest, his protests muffled by the blood that gurgled from his lips.

He disappeared, replaced by my mama, who glared down at me with an emotion that could only be described as pure hatred. She hit me, hit, hit, hit, hit - and then she took the knife. My mouth opened into a soundless scream as she stuck it into my belly.

"Please, no," I begged as she yanked it back out, the blade glimmering and dripping crimson with my blood.

"You killed my brother," was all she said before she jammed it into my chest, and I died.

I jolted upward, soaked in an icy sweat, clutching onto Bekah the bear. My chest lifted to and fro with my rapid, strained breaths, and a phantom pain lingered where the knife had entered. Beside me, Caroline slept peacefully, unbothered by my tossing and turning.

After Elijah had deposited me back into the kitchen, Caroline and I finished baking while Klaus disappeared off somewhere, much to my frustration. She saved a good deal of brownies for herself, but packed up the rest for the Originals as something of a parting gift after trashing their kitchen.

The rest of the day was uneventful, most of it spent watching movies on my bed. Somewhere between The Emperor's New Groove and The Jungle Book, we both fell asleep.

Which then lead to my nightmare. I used to have a lot more of them, but they stopped eventually - talking about it with Caroline seemed to bring them back.

Klaus. I wanted Klaus. Where was Klaus? As quietly as possible, I swung my legs over the bed and tiptoed to my door, listening and smelling for him. Kol was missing. Rebekah was asleep. Elijah was in the library again. The others were tucked away somewhere. But Klaus? He was gone too, I realized with disappointment, although his scent was fresher than Kol's. He must've just stepped out.

I decided to wait for him. Lately, he'd been spending a good deal of his time in the study, where he sorted all of his affairs and the like. He never told me much about that. He said he didn't want to bore me, but I didn't think that was the real reason. His "affairs" were never good. His "affairs" ended up with a lot of dead people.

As I shuffled down the hallway, I contemplated waking up Bekah, but chose not to. She was awfully cranky when she didn't get her preferred sleep. Then, I considered Elijah. But he was so logical and level-headed that I didn't know how to put my jumbled emotions into words, as he would make me do. Klaus would understand. He was the same way as me.

I entered the study, comforted by Klaus's distinct canine smell. Sweat was still beaded on my forehead, and rolled down my back in little droplets. I didn't know how to explain the nightmare to him, but I needed him.

I sat down on the couch, pulling my knees to my chest. It was hard to imagine a world without Klaus in it now, and I'd only known him around a month and a half. And yet, he viewed me as his daughter, and somehow, deep inside me, entangled in my grief for my real daddy, I was beginning to see him as a father. It was confusing, and I didn't know what to think about it. It made me want to punch him, but also hug him.

It was complicated.

Lost in my thoughts, I barely noticed the footsteps closing in on the study until it was almost too late. I tuned in my ears. Not Klaus. At the sound of the footsteps out the door, I hurried over to the large red-tinted desk and ducked under it. Just in time, it turned out, because a man and woman pair - Finn and Esther, I deduced with a healthy sniff - stepped inside. My heart began to pound like a jackhammer inside my chest. Finn was an Original vampire. There was no way in hell he couldn't hear me.

"Are we alone?" Esther asked meaningfully. Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes -

Finn paused for a moment, but then - "Yes." He was lying for me. I knew I liked him for a reason.

"Good." She rummaged through something on top of the desk, and I draped my fingers over my nose and mouth to cover the sound of my hitched breaths. A weird, burnt herbal smell drifted from upward. "This conversation is now private."

"It need not be, Mother. You know my stance on the matter. I intend not to change my mind." On what matter? And did either of them know how to speak like a normal human being?

"Niklaus murdered me," her voice tightened in anger, "and put you in a coffin for nine hundred years, my son. The rest of them have murdered countless innocents. They are the definition of evil."

Um, that's not what she'd been yammering on about before. What the heckin' heck happened to forgiveness and being a family again? I knew she wasn't trustworthy. "I do not disagree with you, especially regarding Niklaus," Finn eventually replied. Outrage flooded through me in a tsunami of anger. They were wrong. Klaus did a lot of bad things. Could I deny that? Nah. I'd be blind to ignore all of - and there were a lot - his faults. But he wasn't evil. He loved me, and anyone who was capable of love wasn't truly evil.

"Then where do your objections spawn from?" Esther asked impatiently. There was a sharp intake of breath, of realization. "It's the little girl, isn't it? The savage wolf child."

Why, I never - that bitch. "Her name is Grace," Finn said, and the coldness in his response surprised me. It sounded almost if her insulting me offended him. "And yes, it has to do with her."

"She is on their side, Finn." There was an underlying steel in her tone. "She is our enemy."

Finn slammed his fist onto the surface of the desk, and the entire thing rattled above me, causing me to clamp down on my tongue. I swore viciously in my head as the metallic taste of blood washed over my tastebuds. "She is kind to me."

My heart nearly snapped into two then and there. Whatever horrible thing Esther was planning, Finn was against it because I had been kind to him. He had been treated so poorly his whole life that me spending a couple of hours not shitting all over him was enough to sway his opinion entirely. Tears pricked at the back of my eyes. He wasn't asking for much at all. God, he just wanted someone to be nice to him.

Esther's voice sharpened with contempt. "You are deluding yourself, my son. Do not stray from the path of righteousness because some insignificant little girl," Well, fuck you too, Mama Mikaelson, I thought, "has paid a sliver of attention to you. It is a petty matter."

"Kindness is not a petty matter." Something hardened in Finn. "It has so much more meaning than you can comprehend. Whilst she has shown me kindness in the last matter of days, you have not. Why should I continue to side with you?" You go, Finn! I cheered along silently.

"Kindness will not finish the job." What job? Hurting the Mikaelsons? Daggering them all? Killing them . . . permanently? "And what difference is it that she is kind to you? She is not your sibling, and she will not be affected by our plan."

"It's not just that, Mother," he argued. "She brings out the best in them, too. The rest of your children. With her presence, they act more as they did when they were human, when we were a real family. It makes me remember a time when I did love them, and they loved me." A single tear rolled down my cheek, and I didn't bother to wipe it away. "And who is to say she will not be affected? She loves Niklaus and Rebekah, most certainly. Removing them from her life would break her heart and leave her alone. I'm afraid I cannot stand for that. I will not help you, Mother."

There was a long, tense silence that followed, where I feared she would discover me under the desk. But she didn't. Instead, she said curtly, "Very well, then. It appears I cannot change your mind. You disappoint me, Finn. We are finished here." Something squished on top of the desk, and the smell of burnt herbs began to fade away. With nothing else to be said, she walked briskly out the door and shut it quietly behind her.

There was another brief pause. "Grace, I know you are there," Finn said, and I scooted out from under the desk, wide-eyed. Sighing, he moved around the desk and kneeled down to my level. "I implore you to not tell anyone, child. I have this handled. Nothing bad will happen to them."

I chewed on my lip, unsettled. "She won't hurt them?"

He placed his hands down on my shoulders. "I will not let her. Promise me you will not say anything. Let me fix this."

Hesitantly, I wound my arms around his neck, and nodded into his soft, denim-clad shoulder. "I promise, Finn."

It took a moment for Finn to hug me back, but he did, squeezing me ever so gently in his arms. "Thank you," he breathed. I only hoped I wouldn't live to regret it. Because if Klaus found out we were lying to him, if something bad could have been prevented, then . . . there would be hell to pay.

I didn't sleep for the rest of the night.

A/N: So, what'd you guys think? I told you it was dark in certain places, but lighter in others. How do you think the shift in Finn's character arc will change the story? Tell me in the reviews! :D