The Sacrifice

I stared in the direction of the door Stefan had walked through in a jumble of hurt and despair. He left. He hadn't walked out, but when he took that step back, his eyes never leaving mine - well, it didn't matter that he hadn't walked out, that Damon had made him leave, because the way he looked at me hurt more than his absence.

I had once said that Stefan, the first friend I had made in Mystic Falls, was my solace. I must have been right because I was bereft of it now. Of all people - how could he have looked at me that way? Like I was-

"You're a murderer!" Bonnie screamed, backing up. "And a liar."

I'd once said that Bonnie was loyalty, that she was my support and that Damon was my strength, my trust. I was wrong. Bonnie had been my strength and I had never realised it. I had taken it for granted, the will and determination and sense of calm, of empowerment that knowing she had my back gave me. Without her, I was lost.

Damon was loyalty. He was still here when Bonnie wouldn't be, when Stefan had left. He was support. He was the one holding me together, holding me in a tight, awkward embrace because he was Damon and he hadn't held anyone like this since Stefan had been a child but he was trying anyway. And always, always, he was trust.

"D-Damon," I tried, my voice wavering so much it sounded like I was stuttering. "I want to leave. Please. I don't-"

I couldn't be here. Not with Hanley's body. No. I-

"We'll go to the lake house, then. Jenna can do that parental thing Jackass is shit at and Baby Gilbert can make you some comfort pot brownies," Damon said, guiding me in the direction of the door. "Then you and I can sit down and watch something until we have to get you back to Klaus. Do you think he'll get stoned off your blood during the ceremony if you eat enough brownies?"

Listening to him talk was peaceful. If I closed my eyes and focused on his voice, I could almost pretend that nothing had happened. Almost.

"Don't call my dad Jackass. That's Jenna's thing," I murmured, but my heart wasn't in it. It wasn't in much of anything - I was numb, now, moving into shock. "And you'd better hope he doesn't get high. Imagine a thousand year old immortal werewolf with the munchies."

Damon had to choke back a laugh. I could feel it.

"I lied. No pot brownies for you. Ever."

I didn't quite manage to smile.

We were buckling our seatbelts when I next spoke.

"Damon, wait," I pleaded, still hoarse from crying. "I don't - not the lake house. Please."

I wasn't ready to face John or Jeremy and Jenna or Alaric. He asked me if I wanted to go to the Boarding House, and I did - but there was someplace else I wanted to go first.

"Hello again, Caroline," I murmured, sitting down on the grass over her grave. "The sacrifice is tonight, so you'll finally be avenged. Were-Bat is going to pick me and your murderer up from the Boarding House a few hours before the ritual. He agreed to compel her for us, and that means getting rid of the vervain in her system first. So there'll be a bit of comeuppance for Tyler, too."

I paused.

"I should tell Tyler, shouldn't I?" I mused aloud, but I still sounded dull, somehow. "He deserves to know that I'm keeping my promise to him, too. At least-"

A strangled cross between a laugh and a sob bubbled up in my throat.

"So Bonnie left me today. And - and Stefan too. Hanley, she - Hanley was my friend. She…I killed her, Caroline. I didn't mean to. She kissed me, and I didn't know why, I didn't know what would happen if I left her. She left me this note and-" I choked up. "Bonnie read the note. Hanley…she realised something was wrong and started doing a bit of research. She's really smart and loves researching things, so I guess it's not surprise that she figured out that I'm a fae. Well, she thinks - she thought - that I was a full on leannan síth and…"

I read the note in the car and died a little inside. I was practically in hysterics, and Damon had to pull over to calm me down, and I didn't calm down as much as I just…settled. Something in me had broken and would never be put right again.

Dear Lena,

I'm not really sure how I'm supposed to write this. I've been trying and I'm pretty sure I've wasted a few forests worth of paper (sorry, environment), but I wanted to get this right. I met you three weeks ago, on my mom's business trip. She hates to travel alone and I had the weekend free. But that's not really important.

Lena, I think you're a fairy. This sounds totally crazy, I know, I thought I was going nuts when I started feeling sick and couldn't stop thinking about you. I kissed you in New York (I'm still really sorry about that by the way. You were so surprised but you were so nice about it. I'm sorry). That's where everything started.

I started missing you as soon as you left. And it just got worse and worse. It's crazy. Right now, I'm thinking about you and I feel like I'm going crazy because I want to be around you so much. I just can't. I think I'm dying. I know it sounds crazy but, I can feel it. I don't really eat most of the time. I don't sleep. All I can think of is you and I'm constantly late to work and I'm pretty sure I'm going to get fired soon. I'm…I think I've been hallucinating. And I get these mood swings for no reason and everything that comes out of my mouth is creepy, crazy person verbal diarrhoea and I'm pretty sure that when or if I see you again, you're going to run away screaming because I'm pretty sure I'm going crazy and whenever I think of you I just - well it would freak you out. It scares me.

The only good thing for me right now is my singing. I've gotten so much better it's insane. I've been picking up all sorts of jobs at bars and stuff as entertainment. At least if I lost my job I'll still have a way to get money, you know? That's why I think you're a leannan síth. You're my muse, you gave me so much inspiration and, well, you're Scottish. I found a wikipedia page about you after a couple hours on google. Seriously, if you look up 'Scottish muse inspiration' you'll find it. (You don't even want to know how long it took me to put those words together in the search bar. I had some pretty crazy theories when I started out, and it took me forever to find a way to explain the singing.)

The letter was folded backward on the line about how the only good thing for her was her singing and how it had improved. The paper was so creased I'd had to squint to read it. I wondered if Bonnie had read the note the entire way through.

But I'm getting off track. I don't know what's going to happen to me. I'm pretty sure I'm going to die. It says the type of fairy you are (haha, you have no idea how cool it was to find out I met a fairy!) is the love 'em and leave 'em type. I'm not sure why this is happening, since the only 'action' between us is the kiss I forced on you, but I think it might be because I'm in love with you. I know that sounds crazy too, and I'm pretty sure that as you read this you're going to feel guilty and think that it's because of the whole fairy thing, but that's why I'm writing this. I keep getting worse every day. Honestly, I'm not sure that even if I see you again (the real you, I've seen you in my apartment a few times and I'm pretty sure you weren't actually there). I'm not sure that what's wrong with me can be fixed at this point, because I know that you're not, you know. Um, yeah.

Whatever happens to me, I just want you to know that I definitely don't blame you. At all. Even if you've been sucking my life force or something from a distance. You need it to live and I'm pretty sure you didn't do it on purpose anyway because I was the one that kissed you and you looked really surprised when I did it so yeah.

I am 100% sure that my feelings for you are real. I was, honestly I've been in a bad place for a long time. Since my brother died. And I'm a weird, awkward person (whoa, what self-awareness, right?) who can barely talk to people because I get all stuttery and say um too much, so you can probably guess I don't have any friends. Well, except you.

The letter was folded again, there, unevenly, too, as though she'd been in a hurry.

I'm guessing you were drawn to me by (god this is so embarrassing) my voice. I get that. You wouldn't know, but that was the first time I'd sung anything in a long time, and that was just because I was in a pretty good mood because my mom actually found time to have lunch with me. She's always really busy. Plane rides are pretty much the only time we talk anymore, since Peter (that's my brother) died. It was, (something there was scratched out) Anyway. I used to sing for him, but when he died, I stopped singing for anyone.

You were nice to me, Lena. We spent half an hour on that balcony, and I know that's like no time at all, but you were nice to me. You actually care about my opinions. Also, you said my hair was pretty. It's such a silly anime plot line, but Peter was the only other person to think that. My mom thinks it's ugly as hell, and no one at Stanford (that's my school, remember?) seemed to like it. I like it though, and when you said you did it made me happy. And lately, I've kind of been living on your text messages. You always cheer me up, and not in some magical fairy way. You make me laugh, and you always ask about my day and you let me rant about class and even ask questions about my archaeology stuff. You make me feel like someone cares. And I know you haven't meant to stop texting me because you told me things were going on and I get the feeling those things aren't nice things at all. So, yeah. I'm pretty sure I'm at least a little in love with you. I think

The next part was in a different colour pen, and more hastily scrawled.

Me again, Lena, but it's been like a week since I wrote that stuff up there. (You know, I kind of like this letter writing stuff because I don't stutter. It's nice.) Anyway. I'm more sick now. I wanted to see you, to give you this, before I, well, you know. I'll probably come off as a total creep, but I'm pretty sure that's because I am literally going insane. Or I think I am, anyway. At least I sound like myself while writing. Er, read like myself? Basically I don't sound like the crazy stalker I feel like irl.

I called your house (that sounds really, really creepy and I'm sorry but I've been worried about you. I don't know why, but I have the weirdest feeling you're in trouble) anyway your brother told me about this dance you're going to tonight and I can't wait to see you. I'm leaving as soon as I finish this and breakfast, haha, to catch a taxi to take me to the airport (yay for trust fund babies! I'm glad my mom doesn't care about what I do with my money) and I wanted to finish this first (this and breakfast lol.) No one knows I'm leaving. I'm pretty sure my room mate doesn't give a shit and if I die before I get back she'll probably be happy to have the room for herself.

Lena, I don't blame you for any of this, okay? You made my life better even if you kind of made it shorter. You took away my loneliness and like I said, I'm pretty damn sure you didn't mean to. So it's okay. I love you. As a friend first and then as a beautiful person that made me feel like I matter to someone. I have a present for you. It's kind of ancient but its really pretty and you're so polite and kind of fancy and (did you know you have, like, perfect posture? It's amazing) since I'm probably going to kick the bucket soon I want you to have it. It was my grandmother's. And her mother's. And hers, probably. My mom let me pick something of my grandma's when she passed away. I took the locket just to spite her, I think, because she wanted to sell it. It's a Victorian piece, from the early 1840's (and my mom says my degree is useless) - and if you're wondering it used to have a preserved lock of hair that was on the back of it that fell out, but I think you can replace it with a stone or something. I, uh, I put a picture of me in there. You don't have to keep it. Just. You know. If you want it. Anyway, that's it.

Thank you, Lena. I don't think someone like you will ever really understand what you mean to me because I don't think you'll understand what you did for me, but thank you. Dying sucks, and I'm pissed and scared and definitely not okay with it, but I don't blame you. Okay, so I'm fucking terrified. I don't want to die. I don't. I'm really scared, Lena. But I don't blame you. And, hey. "Death is but the next great adventure," right?

(I still think you're wrong about Dumbledore. He was totally legit.)

Be happy, Lena. And, you know, same way you sign off when we chat on messenger:

All my love,

Hanley

"She left me her grandmother's locket," I told Caroline's gravestone, my voice wavering. "I don't know where it is. I asked Damon to…to look. He's…he said he's going to take care of her body so that she gets back to her mum. He's going to compel the coroner into believing she died from a blood clot."

I was sobbing now, drawing my knees to my chest as I cried for Hanley.

"I killed her, Caroline. And she just - she said it wasn't my fault. Said that I made her happy just because I cared. I'm sorry, it's selfish of me to vent to you like this. I didn't even bring you flowers today. Well, I wasn't going to come today, what with the sacrifice being tonight and all. I just…I just wanted to see you. I'll bring you flowers tomorrow. Maybe gladiolus? It has the same meaning as your name, you know. Strength. It also means remembrance and honour. Well, I am avenging you tonight. So maybe it fits."

I shivered as the breeze picked up and caressed my face.

"I'm surprised your mum never brings you flowers," I muttered with a frown. "It's like I'm the only person that ever visits you. Well, I'm sure Matt would, but…oh, yes, I forgot to tell you. He's turned his emotions off from grief for you, for his sister, and probably from the constant stress he lives with. School, work, absent mother. I'm sure if he hadn't he'd come see you too. When he turns it back on I expect he will."

I wiped my face with my sleeve.

"I'm sorry, Caroline. I got you killed because I didn't warn you about all this stuff. I killed Hanley because I'm a bloody fairy-hybrid and I'm useless anyway and can't protect myself. Killing Isobel is the least that I can do and it's no where near enough." My phone vibrated and I pulled it out, seeing a text message from Damon. "That's my ride here, Care-Bear. I'll be back tomorrow. You know, if I survive. If I don't, well. I told you what tonight would be for me. It's my promise to you, Caroline. I will never forget you. And hybrid Klaus will be the living embodiment of that."

When I got to the car, Damon told me that Hanley was taken care of and would be returned to her family. I thanked him and didn't ask too many questions. I couldn't.

"I found the locket," he informed me after a few minutes of silence. "She was wearing it."

I nodded, my eyes swimming with tears again. He pulled it out of his pocket while keeping one hand on the wheel, and dropped it gently in my lap. I held it between my fingers, studying it carefully. It was gold, with a beautiful design of vaguely familiar flowers made of dark green stones and pale blue ones. 'Mizpah' was inscribed beside the flowers, following the curve of the locket face, whatever that meant. I ran my finger over the front of it, guilt and grief and gratitude welling up within me.

"It's beautiful," I murmured, and opened it.

Inside was a small picture of Hanley, lavender hair swept up in a messy, elegant up-do, trying and not succeeding to not smile that bashful grin of hers as she posed on a bench in a garden, dressed like a Gibson Girl. I pulled the picture out carefully and turned it over.

"Lady Hanley Prescott"

Gaskell Society Tea Party '09

You looked great, kiddo!

-Pete

I put the picture back and tied the locket around my neck.

"Forget-me-nots," Damon said quietly, and I glanced up at him.

"What?"

He cleared his throat.

"Forget-me-nots. The flowers on the face of it. Very fashionable back in the day."

I clutched the locket in my hand, swallowing hard. I wouldn't. I wouldn't forget her. That would be another promise that I kept. Caroline. Hanley. That was two.

The rest of the car ride was spent in silence.

"How is Matt?" I asked quietly as Damon moved about the kitchen, throwing together something quick to eat because Klaus was due to pick me up within the hour. I'd spent too much time at the cemetery to have a proper meal.

"Desiccating," Damon answered, turning over the omelette he was making. "Doesn't seem to like it much, but hey, at least he has company."

If I had it in me to feel any pity in the wake of - of Hanley, my heart would have clenched with it at the thought of Matt Donovan. I wondered how he had figured out the truth about Vicki. Had he remembered the 'bad trip' she had been on, compared it with his own experience of transition, and put the pieces together? I doubted he knew that it had been us that killed her, or I'm sure he would have staked Stefan outright, if not immediately after incapacitating him with the stake to the neck. I wondered who told him Caroline had died. I wondered if finding out that Tyler, his best friend, had been the one to kill her was his breaking point.

Matt had a hard life. Too hard for a high school student. If I were to be honest, I wasn't all that surprised when Damon told me he had switched his humanity off. He had been a rock, a pillar of strength, to the Scooby Gang in the show. He always seemed to give them a hand when he could, despite the fact that he could have stepped out of the picture entirely, despite the fact that he should have stepped out, swamped with work and school and struggling his way through life as he was.

He was the only one of the group that had zero connections to the supernatural. Vicki didn't count, because she had been changed by Damon. Caroline was probably the next least supernatural character before she was turned, but even she had been the daughter of the town's chief vampire hunter outside of John and, well, Damon.

"I suppose there's no help for it, is there?" I murmured, sighing. We couldn't let Matt go when he was so obviously a danger to other people - and through that, a danger to himself.

"There's a more permanent solution," Damon reminded me casually, setting my plate in front of me. I flinched, and the briefest flicker of guilt passed over his face.

He didn't apologise, of course, but he didn't say another word about it.

Caroline's death had hung over me because it was my fault, but Hanley's was an entirely different matter. I'd only known her in person that ill-fated day - but I'd gotten to know her over the weeks we spent texting and chatting on messenger. I knew Hanley better than I had known Caroline. And now she too was dead.

Too much death - even for the person who had staked the vampire that deceived and kidnapped Bonnie, who had killed defenceless tomb vampires to share the burden Stefan had taken on himself. And that wasn't the end of it; my hands would be stained red with Isobel's blood and Brady's too.

I pushed my plate away from me when I was finished, muttering a quiet thanks.

"Were-Bat will be here to fetch me, soon," I said after a moment, not quite meeting Damon's inscrutable gaze. "We should get Isobel."

I loved Damon twice as much as I already did when he nodded but otherwise said nothing, allowing me time to centre myself before the inevitable. I followed him to the basement in silence, focusing on Caroline's death, on the pain I had suffered with Tyler, that Tyler would suffer again - alone - tonight.

I couldn't count on the mood swings I had been having to raise me up - the stuttering Father had described, I knew now, was Hanley's bond to me. He was right when he said I would settle when the 'loose' bond was closed. Hanley was gone and I was unfortunately stable.

I would have done anything to swing back up to mischief, but I was brought low and sinking lower and that was no way to deal with Klaus. I hated the fact that I wanted to feel that way now, when I'd spent a long, difficult portion of my life pre-Elena trying not to.

Thinking of Caroline and Tyler and Isobel might not have been able to give me peace, but it gave me resolve and I could work with resolve.

Damon stepped into the basement, broke Isobel's neck, and dragged her out, ignoring Katherine's presence entirely. I glanced at her through the bars and saw Matt slumped over next to her with his neck at a suspicious angle.

"He's annoying," Katherine explained, her eyes dark with hunger as they bore into mine from the dim light of the improvised prison cell. "Or he was, anyway."

Since it was obvious that Matt was only out with a broken neck, I let it go.

"Klaus is coming to fetch me for the sacrifice soon," I informed her, studying her face calmly. I marvelled at how fear flickered over her face despite herself - the last time she had actually seen Klaus was when he was still playing at courting her. She had arrived home to find the rotting, mangled bodies of her massacred family, knowing by whose hand they had been killed, but she'd never so much as stood before him since she started running. And she'd been running from him ever since - from the very the sound of his name for centuries.

So when she somehow still found it in herself to twist that fleeting betrayal of weakness into a haughty, spiteful sneer, all I could do was admire her.

"He hasn't agreed to pardon you yet, but he said he would consider it," I told her, because I respected the look on her face, the ruthless way she stamped down fear even while weakened by vervain and desiccating. "I know that normally means no from him, because when the first time he said it was obvious he was right full of shite, but he said he'd give me an answer after the sacrifice and the fact that he's considering it now, before I start using the leverage I have to press the issue, is a good sign. I keep my word to the letter when I give it, Katerina. And I gave it to you."

A cruel, mocking smirk pulled at her mouth.

"You're a stupid little girl, Kathleen." She said, closing her eyes and turning away with a bitterly amused laugh. "He's going to kill you."

"Yes." I agreed easily, and her gaze snapped to mine, her dark eyes suspicious.

"And that doesn't bother you?" She asked in a mocking drawl, licking her dry, chapped lips.

"He'll kill me, yes. But he'll bring me back," I told her, not answering the question because I didn't know what my answer would be and didn't want to find out. "Be patient, Katerina. I told you I would secure your freedom and I will."

When Klaus pulled up in Alaric's Chevy Tahoe fifteen minutes later, I was sitting outside the Boarding House where I had sat with Stefan to watch the comet with Isobel lying dead to the world at my feet. (Damon had been kind enough to break her neck again for me).

"Are you going to introduce me to your mother, love?" he asked sarcastically, tapping Isobel's slumped over body with his toe.

"I don't think we're at that stage of our relationship yet, Klaus," I deadpanned, but it fell a bit flat due to my current state of mind. I pushed back everything but the memory of Caroline's death and the promise I made Tyler. "We're not even going steady yet."

He laughed, dragging Isobel up off the ground and throwing her into the backseat of the SUV with one hand.

"You're right. There's plenty of time for that after the vervain is out of her system," he said pleasantly, holding open the passenger door for me. "I look forward to seeing how strong my little doppelganger's stomach turns out to be."

"Probably not very strong at all," I confessed, slipping past him into the seat. "But I've got will in spades, so we'll see which wins out."

The smirk on his face as he shut the door almost made me wish I hadn't said that, because it was obvious that I'd given him a goal to work towards but I wanted Isobel to hurt like Tyler and I had hurt, even if I ended up being sick all over my shoes.

I had promised, after all.

Klaus had chosen the tomb, once again, as his sacrifice ingredient storage locker; Brady, who I recognised with a spiteful look, was chained up against the wall, looking worse for wear. The memory of Caroline sobbing in the cage, begging, crying out in pain as he shot her, all of it flooded my mind and filled me with a rage that I knew wasn't really justified since he hadn't done actually done any of it yet - but I didn't care.

I turned away from him without a thought, instead choosing to watch Klaus chain up Isobel so that she wouldn't escape and then feed her a blood bag.

She latched onto it with both hands, guzzling every last drop with a thirst that had been building for weeks. She'd been so grey, so close to desiccation earlier, that Damon just broke her neck as a precaution and didn't bother dosing her with more vervain. She drank the blood like a starving animal and colour and life flooded her cheeks again.

The empty plastic package had only just hit the ground when Klaus drove a pitchfork through her abdomen. She choked, but to her credit didn't scream. Klaus twisted the pitchfork, and oddly enough, it wasn't until he ripped it out of her with a sickening squelch that I felt like I was going to be sick.

I thought of Caroline, of Tyler, forced the feeling down, and watched.

We had tracked Isobel down the night the dampening spell was performed on Tyler, Bonnie and me. It was Bonnie and Damon and Stefan and I that went. She was in the same house she had been in when John visited her in the show. John hadn't known where she was this time because he had been with us, so we hadn't been able to find her earlier, but the vision Father gave me had shown us pulling up to the house - which was situated on a corner near a street sign, with the house number clearly displayed near the door.

Isobel hadn't even had the chance to hide the moonstone when we got there.

Bonnie threw up a boundary spell around the house so that Isobel couldn't escape and we'd stormed in, all fire and fury because Caroline was dead and Isobel had killed her; Bonnie had felt part of the pain I'd shared with Tyler during his transformation and that was Isobel's fault too. Isobel tried to slip past Damon and was thrown hard into the window by Bonnie as Stefan rendered unconscious of one of her compelled minions and I got the other one, the girl, with a nasty uppercut.

She hadn't stood a chance, but she put up one hell of a fight.

Bonnie dropped her with an aneurysm when she tried to stake Damon with a chair leg, making her drop it, and with what must have been some inherited Petrova conviction, scooped up a shard of glass from the broken window and drove it through his eye the second Bonnie made the mistake of letting her up.

She hurled an end table in Bonnie's direction - it hit her and she no doubt cracked her skull on the moulding of the doorway she had been standing in. Stefan rushed to Bonnie's side to give her blood. Isobel turned on Damon again, catching him on his still blind left as I rushed over to them, snatching up the forgotten chair leg she had dropped.

She managed to get her hands on either side of his head but it was too late.

She broke his neck as I drove the stake through her stomach and when Damon went down, she went with him.

"Hello, Isobel," I had murmured, a vicious, grim look on my face. "I have to say, when I first imagined meeting my biological mother, this wasn't what I had in mind."

Her eyes widened as she stared up at me, and all I could think was this is the bitch that knew perfectly well that Caroline was my friend and killed her to spite me. I jerked the stake to the side and pushed it in deeper.

"You shouldn't have compelled Tyler to kill Caroline, Isobel Flemming," I told her, my voice as cold and quiet and deadly as black ice. "A life for a life and suffering for suffering. But we haven't even got to that part yet. This-"

I twisted the stake in her stomach and she lurched to the side as thought trying to rip herself off it.

"This is for hurting John. Caroline and Tyler will have their own back, too, but that won't be until the sacrifice." Stefan moved into my field of view holding the syringe of vervain and I decided to wrap things up. "Good night, Isobel. And before you go - I just want you to know that you have nothing to barter with. I know the stone is in the back of the broken clock on the mantelpiece."

I took an almost detached kind of satisfaction in the way her eyes had widened just before Stefan slammed the syringe into her neck.

That had been about a month ago, and now I stood watching her with blank, impassive eyes as she choked and sputtered in agony as Klaus stabbed her over and over again with the pitchfork like the right devil he could be when the fancy struck him.

I didn't have the stomach for such things - I felt like I could be sick just watching - but I felt that if this was going to be vengeance for Caroline, payment for Tyler's suffering, then I needed to at least witness it, since I wasn't up to carrying out the deed myself.

I had to watch, even if I hated every second of it, because if I didn't then it was meaningless. Klaus could torture whomever he liked and it wouldn't matter a whit. It wouldn't count. Even if Klaus tortured Isobel, it wasn't Klaus getting vengeance for Caroline, it was just Klaus torturing Isobel. I had to watch so that it would mean something.

"I'm surprised, sweetheart, that you've managed to sit there for so long," Klaus commented as he prodded Isobel with the pitchfork, checking to see if there was any blood left in her system to spill. "Either you're far more bloodthirsty and your stomach much stronger than I thought, or your will is more impressive than I gave you credit for."

"Bit of both, I think." I answered, for once tearing my gaze from Isobel to look at him.

He was covered in blood. I think he had been going for theatrics - whatever else, he certainly knew where to direct his pitchfork. The first time he'd ripped it out of her, blood came spurting out of her like a bust pipe, probably from a major artery.

"Have we reached that stage in our relationship, yet?" He asked me, leaning casually on the pitchfork as he observed my posture, the expression on my face, everything that might have given him instinct into what was going on in my head.

"If she can be compelled, then yes."

Klaus forced Isobel to look at him with little resistance - she was too weak from blood loss to move much.

"Take off your daylight amulet and walk into the sun."

I watched with fascinated horror as she did just that. She reached up and ripped her necklace from her neck - the chains allowed for that much movement, at least - and then she began to mechanically walk in the direction of the tomb entrance. Or she tried to walk, because the chains didn't let her, but she kept on walking until the shackles dug into her wrists and she cried out - and she kept walking.

It was horrifying to realise that, if no one stopped her, she would keep walking until the shackles gave or her hands and feet did, and once she was free she would go outside and burn in the sun.

"I'd say it works, love, what about you?"

Compulsion, which I had viewed as something irritating but otherwise a joke due to my safety measures, was terrifying.

"Yes, I'd say it does." This was a thousand times worse than watching Klaus stab her with a pitchfork because she was doing this to herself, utterly against her will.

"You can stop now," Klaus compelled, and Isobel slumped against the wall, her breathing harsh as her wrists and ankles healed. Klaus turned to me expectantly, a slight smirk tugging at his mouth, and gestured in Isobel's direction.

He actually wanted me to introduce him to her.

"Klaus, may I introduce my biological mother, murderer of my friend, and perpetrator of other unforgivable crimes against me and mine, Isobel Flemming." I stated in an even tone, debating whether to mention Tyler or not. No, better not to until after the ceremony. Just in case he didn't bring me back and thought Tyler would make a great first no-doppelganger-blood hybrid. "Isobel, this is Klaus Mikaelson, the very charming Original Hybrid who shall be sacrificing me on an altar of fire this evening. I expect it shall be a once-in-a-lifetime experience."

"I do believe you forgot to mention that we're in a relationship, love," Klaus reminded me mockingly, apparently taking great amusement in the way Isobel stiffened.

"Oh, yes, it feels like just yesterday that I met him," I drawled sarcastically, almost enjoying myself despite the ache in my chest. "We danced and then he invited me in for a nightcap and I didn't leave until the next morning."

"That was just yesterday, love," Klaus reminded me, and it occurred to me suddenly that I had never heard him actually speak my name. I wondered why. Actually, I wondered about a lot of things when it came to him.

"Oh, so it was," I remarked idly. "And I'm already introducing you to my mother. Really, being doppelganger and hybrid is such a whirlwind thing."

Isobel looked like she was going to be sick. I wondered if it was because we were messing about or because I was getting along with the man who was going to kill me. I didn't think she had any right to bother if it was because of the sacrifice. She'd been collecting ingredients for it, and she knew full well I was one.

"Now, you told me you wanted to have her compelled but you never told me what you wanted me to compel her to do," Klaus said, clearly expecting an answer.

He was right, I hadn't, but I would remedy that at once.

"I want you to compel her to turn her humanity back on because I want her to be afraid." I told him simply, and his eyebrows shot up. I kept my gaze on him resolute. "I had to watch as the friend she compelled to kill Caroline, whose murder she's dying for, suffered in mounting terror and couldn't do a thing about it. I want her to feel fear like he did, before she dies. I don't want her to cheat and turn it off or leave it off. I want her to be afraid because Tyler was, because I will be."

He compelled her.

We went out for something to eat about an hour later, since I'd only eaten the omelette Damon made for me and would have gotten hungry waiting around for the moon to reach it's peak. Small talk was made, it was pleasant. I told him I liked to draw, told him that I liked drawing best of all the arts because it was the only one in which I managed to convey a bit of soul. Admittedly, that soul was only found in the portraits of the people I drew - everything else came out flat, for some reason. I expected it was a fairy thing. I might have been weak in math and anything that required memorisation, but I excelled in all forms of the arts. Dancing, drawing, writing, playing the violin, singing. I was technically competent in all of those things, but my work always lacked feeling, lacked soul, no matter how much I tried to pour some of myself into them.

I thought about how I'd wanted to steal Hanley's music and wondered if that was the reason leannan síth only took life from artists. Hanley's voice was a reflection of herself, my singing was in comparison robotic.

He said he would like to see my drawings one day, and I told him I would like to see his own. It was nice, but the memory of Isobel straining against the chains would not leave my mind and the amusement with which he had watched her had made me wary of him. There was none of the Nik I dreamt of in the action, and it reminded me that Klaus was capable of anything - even if he only thought one had crossed him.

When it came time for the sacrifice, Greta and Maddox collected Isobel and Brady together and Klaus took me to the site of the ritual.

"This place feels wrong," Greta commented with a shudder despite herself as she strolled up threw Isobel down, and trapped her in a barrier of fire like she had Jenna in the show.

Maddox did the same with Brady, who was writhing in agony like Jules had due to the spell, and I sat down peaceably in between both circles of flame so that Greta could trap me in a third.

There was still a while to wait when Elijah came.

"Brother!" Klaus called, spreading his arms wide open like a ringmaster presenting the opening act. "You made it!"

Elijah walked into the clearing, his gaze sweeping dispassionately over the altar at which I would soon be sacrificed alongside Isobel and Brady.

"Niklaus." Elijah said flatly. "Miss Gilbert, it's a pleasure to see you again."

I glanced skittishly between him and Klaus.

"I really do prefer Lena, Mr. Mikaelson. Being referred to as 'Miss Gilbert' is rather, well, uncomfortable." It wasn't my name, after all. "I'm glad to see you're alright."

A thin-lipped, barely there smile and a nod were all the acknowledgment I got.

"I have a few questions for the doppelganger," Elijah stated, the corners of his mouth almost imperceptibly turned down. "I shall return her to you shortly."

Klaus laughed.

"Your sense of humour hasn't improved in the time we've been apart, brother, but your delivery has!" Klaus exclaimed in a tone of warning that said this was Elijah's only chance to say that it was a joke because Klaus was not letting me out of his sight for anything - especially not with the brother that had been determined to kill him for the past few years. "Lena is staying right where she is, aren't you, love?"

"I was attacked two nights ago, Niklaus, by a man claiming to be the Eastern Prince. Lena has met him - she knows him as 'Hal.'" The name, coming out of Elijah's mouth, was strangely off-putting. Wrong. Unnatural. "He was in possession of a silver dagger and white oak ash…and is working with a powerful witch."

Klaus' expression was utterly blank.

"I remember nothing of the encounter when I awoke," Elijah continued tensely, "save the message given to me to be relayed to Lena Gilbert."

I took a step back despite myself.

"Elijah, when was the last time you saw her?" Klaus asked, and it was such a non sequitur that I was left staring between him and his brother in confusion. Who? What?

"November 22nd, 1989." Elijah responded automatically.

Klaus' face twisted briefly into an expression of rage and grief and bitter, bitter disappointment. It was such a startling change that it left me almost breathless.

"That's it, then," he muttered, and I only just managed to catch the words. Elijah, I was sure, heard them loud and clear. "She's dead."

"A message for me?" I asked, confusion saturating the words as I pretended not to have caught what Klaus said, no matter how much it had peaked my curiosity. My confusion was sincere, though - Hal had never been shy about wanting to talk to me before, so why now?

Elijah nodded stiffly.

"Yes he did," he said, and I could tell it cost him to say it because I didn't doubt he'd been daggered and having his memory stolen must have been driving him mad. "The only memory I was left with was the vague image of a man wearing a mask telling me to tell you that 'if you want the Wickery Bridge sign back, you'll have to play a game of snooker with him.'"

My blood ran cold. The Wickery Bridge sign. The last remaining source of white oak.

"What sign? Is that code for something? Did he say where I need to go to get whatever it is back?" I asked, by some miracle keeping my voice even.

Elijah shook his head in denial, and Klaus had had enough.

"As fascinating as all this may be, I'm a little busy at the moment, brother, and would appreciate if you had your little chat after I break the thousand year old curse the Original witch placed on me," Klaus said in his trademark almost sing-song tone of warning.

The corners of Elijah's mouth turned down.

"Please, Elijah," I implored from my place in the circle. "Let this be done tonight."

Greta glanced warily at Elijah and told Klaus it was almost time - Klaus shot his brother a glance clearly asking if he would stand down or if it would come to blows.

Elijah met his brother's gaze evenly, and I knew instinctively that he was thinking of what I had told him in New York.

"I have looked into the heart of him, Elijah Mikaelson, and I have seen the good there. If you could know, could understand even just a fraction of what eats away at his mind, at his soul - you would forsake all else and walk by his side until the earth crumbled to dust beneath your feet because there is good in him and there is suffering, and you are his brother and you love him."

Elijah nodded slowly and stepped back.

We waited for another few minutes during which Elijah and Maddox faded into the background and there were only five of us there. The hybrid who was cursed. The witch who would free him. The werewolf who I was having killed for a crime he hadn't committed. The vampire who was being killed for one she did.

And in the centre ring, the little doppelganger that could.

Brady went first, when the time came.

"For what he could have done, would have done to you, Care-Bear," I uttered with quiet conviction as Klaus ripped his heart out and squeezed its blood onto the flaming stone basin at the altar as Greta chanted over it.

Isobel was next. Klaus staked her on the natural platform Greta was conducting the ritual on. She didn't try to run - nothing. She was trembling with fear as Klaus led her there, and when she died, her eyes met mine.

"For what she did," I murmured in a fierce, low voice. "For you, Caroline."

When Klaus came and held his hand out to me, I went willingly, though my hands shook. He surprised me when he didn't let go - I'd thought it was just to help me up - but I was grateful for it. I was going to die. I'd come back, but I'd be dying, technically for the second time. I was afraid. No one could blame me.

He watched me curiously as I tilted my head to the side to give him better access to my neck. He could no doubt hear how my heart pounded in fear, but I didn't flinch when he drew closer. I closed my eyes.

"Nik?" I said very quietly, in what was a hairsbreadth away from being an actual whisper. I hadn't meant to say his name like that, like he was Nik from my dream, but it was easier to think of him that way, for this, than as Klaus. I could feel him pause, feel him wait. "If you can, please - please be gentle."

A sharp intake of breath - not from me.

"I will," he said, and I believed him.

"Thank you." I resisted the urge to open my eyes. It was easier in darkness.

"No," he murmured, brushing my hair back, and I could feel his breath over my skin, his mouth was that close to my neck. "Thank you."

His teeth sank into my skin quickly, without unnecessary force.

Greta's chanting picked up and I felt the cool evening breeze on my face.

"Promised, didn't I?" I whispered to the air deliriously. The world was spinning.

I could have sworn I saw a flicker of movement in the corner of my eye.

And then, I died.

To be continued in The Sins of the Father.