The Wolf

by yokan87

When Caroline wakes up shackled, powerless and very far away from Mystic Falls, she knows she's in serious trouble. But when a woman named Sophie Deveraux reveals the reason why she's been kidnapped and taken to New Orleans, she realizes things are far worse than she could've ever imagined. [It's The Originals Season 1, but Caroline is a witch and she's pregnant with Klaus' child.]

20. S01E20: The Battle of New Orleans

A/N: A bigger shout-out than usual to coveredinthecolors for her AMAZING job in the final two chapters of this story! Not just with proof-reading everything, but for taking her time to discuss all the sensitive points in both chapters that are giving me the chills. If you still find any typos or grammar mistakes here, know that they're all mine (I tend to add a lot of stuff during extra time lol).

And here we are! The journey was long and arduous, but we've arrived at the two-chapters finale of this story. I can't even believe I've managed to write all this. It's a hell of a lot of words I did not know I had in me when I first started. Thank you SO much to everyone who has been following this and for your amazing support. :) As always, must ask you to not abandon me in this crucial time! Your comments and feedback are more welcome than ever! It's truthfully the only thing keeping me motivated to still participate in fandom at this point. I'll be so looking forward to reading your thoughts after this. :)

I do feel like, at this point, I have to remind you all of one thing, though: this is The Originals season 1. Remember how I put all those warnings back there and kept dropping little reminders of how closely I'm following canon here? Well. I just feel like you might need to keep that in mind.

Hope you guys enjoy this!

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"Emma."

"No."

"Sophia."

There's a pause. Caroline can almost feel a flurry of excitement brewing. But then, "No."

She sighs, stuffing her mouth with cereal. They've been talking baby names for an hour and so far the only thing Klaus has said is 'no' in varying degrees of objection. Some suggestions he doesn't even dignify with an answer, simply lifts his eyes from the book he's reading and gives Caroline a look. She has to hold back from throwing her cereal at him when he does that. They're weeks away from having a baby and not a single clue on what to call her.

"Ok," she says around a mouthful. "How about... Lena?"

"Absolutely not," he replies with special heat, like the idea is offensive to him.

"What's wrong with Lena?"

"It's one vowel away from Elena."

"It's a beautiful name," she protests. "And so is Elena, for that matter."

Klaus gives her one of his pointed looks. "No daughter of mine will be named after a doppelganger."

"That's not - You know what, whatever." Lena is not really worth the argument and, well, he kind of has a point. Caroline loves Elena, but she doesn't really want to name her daughter somewhat after her. "Blake."

"That's not even a real name."

"Of course it's a real name. Blake Lively. Blake Shelton. It's been on the Top 100 names for years." It has. Caroline's checked. She's also checked every single website for the most common names in the past decade. Nothing stood out. And Klaus' determination to not name the baby isn't helping at all.

"It sounds like a sports brand."

She rolls her eyes. "Zoe?"

"Now you're just making random sounds, love."

"Oh, excuse you. You're a billion years old, all the names you know are from the freaking Stone Age. Let's just call her Mary, why don't we?"

He flips a page on his book. "That's a fine name."

"It's not gonna be Mary." She puts down her cereal, her nostrils flaring in irritation. "Why are you being so difficult?"

"I'm not being difficult, I'm merely aiming for perfection. Names are important and I know what it's like to be stuck with one you despise."

"What are you talking about? I am Klaus Mikaelson," she derides, making a terrible attempt at copying his accent and tone of voice which earns an unimpressed glance from him. "You're way too self-involved not to love the sound of your own name."

"Of the corruption of my given name, perhaps."

"Ok, Niklaus," she says, drawing it out just to annoy him. "This kid needs a name and all you do is shut down all my suggestions. I don't see you making any contributions."

He puts down his book, regarding Caroline contemplatively. "Inge."

"Inge?" Caroline parrots, eyebrows arched. "You're joking, right? That sounds like a ring tone."

"Meredith, then."

"Meredith," she deadpans.

"It's a Welsh name. Means great ruler. I think it's fitting," he grins, a single dimple denting his cheek.

"Oh yeah. It's perfect. If I was giving birth to a 75 year-old lady and her three cats, that is."

Klaus sighs. "Ambrosia."

"Oh, God," she grumbles. "I take it back, stop having ideas."

"Don't ask for my suggestions if you're going to hate all of them."

"Because they're awful!"

"May I make a suggestion?" Elijah speaks from the door, leaning against the threshold with his arms crossed and an amused smile on his face.

"Please," Caroline says, motioning her hands in a be my guest gesture. "Not like we're getting anywhere here."

"How about… Elia?"

Caroline's face instantly lights up, an involuntary contented sound escaping her lips. Elia. That's the first name that's really spoken to her. It's short and cute, not too common, but not weird either. It's per -

"Not a chance," Klaus shuts it down with a glare.

She snaps her face to him, gaping. "What? Why? It's perfect!"

"My daughter is not going to be named to appease my big brother's ego."

"It's not -" Caroline stops to consider it. Elia. Elijah. "Damn it," she breathes out, visibly deflating. "She'll be going away to college before we agree on a name. Let's just put X on her birth certificate."

"Back in the old days, parents didn't name their children until they turned at least two," Klaus says. "Child mortality rates were extremely high. What's the point of naming someone if they're just going to die?"

Caroline narrows her eyes at him. "Wow, Klaus. Thank you so much for this incredibly inappropriate remark. Jesus."

"Well, I am sorry to interrupt what sounds like a very entertaining conversation -" Elijah starts.

"Please, interrupt before I punch him."

Elijah's lips hunch into a smile. "I just heard from Jackson. He and Oliver are on their way back."

Klaus stands to his feet, his attention suddenly piqued. "Do they have the stones?"

Elijah nods. "They should be here by morning."

Both brothers turn to look at her. Caroline feels a stab of adrenaline. This is it, then. Tomorrow night is a full moon, likely the last one before the baby is born, and they intend to have the moonlight rings all done before then. It'll give the wolves the power to control their transformation and, in retribution, they will help protect their still unnamed daughter.

They've had quiet days since Mikael came out of hell to play, but Caroline doesn't allow herself to put her guard down, and neither does Klaus. They still haven't managed to pinpoint who the person behind the attacks on the Bayou was and, despite Jackson's own investigations, they can't connect the bomber to Francesca Correa. If it wasn't her, and it wasn't Marcel or Genevieve, then they're truly lost. And all the more exposed for it.

Elijah thinks it could've been Diego or some other wayward vampire acting on his own, that maybe the attack wasn't directed at Caroline after all, but rather as a way to scare Klaus into pulling out of his side deal with the Crescents. If that was the intention, it failed. All it did was motivate Klaus further — not to mention convince everyone else of the urgency of getting the rings done asap.

He has used their days of peace to dig deeper, and, with Caroline's help in reading his mother's writing — witchy gibberish, in his own insulting words — they concluded that the stone used to forge the ring Esther gave to Klaus' biological father was a black kyanite. It has powerful protection and healing properties, which makes it perfect to fight not only the effects of the full moon over the werewolves, but to offer them strength against vampires. It's brilliant stuff, really. Esther Mikaelson was a bit of a mad genius.

Caroline just wishes she'd had more time to prepare. Klaus would never let her have the grimoire for long, claiming that it was dangerous to leave it out in the open, after the witches had made it obvious they were trying to steal it. The spell is incredibly complex and Caroline didn't even get to read the whole thing. Esther's gibberish is particularly hard to translate, it being really old with a twist of Norse gibberish. It was a combined effort, getting the correct translations, and not everything was exactly straightforward. Klaus is certain that she has all the important parts because it matches the daylight ring spell perfectly, but with that kind of magic, every detail counts.

Now that Jackson has located a large enough supply of the stones, it's up to her to make it all work by tomorrow night. No pressure, then.

She lets out a sharp breath, placing a hand on top of her belly. "This would be a good time to come out, baby girl. Mommy could really use a drink. Or ten."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-s

Klaus places his mother's spell book on the desk in front of Caroline. "There you go, love," he says. "Knock yourself out."

"You could've let me knock myself out about a week ago," she grumbles, carefully flipping through the pages until she finds the moonlight ring spell.

Klaus takes a seat on the couch, propping his feet up the center table. "You've got it all sorted."

"Who's the witch here again?" she snaps, glaring at him, before going back to reading through the spell.

Klaus smiles, amused. Caroline has been on edge lately, obsessing about absolutely everything. The closer they get to her due date, the antsier she becomes. She is a planner, a perfectionist, not unlike himself, and the fact there is still so much up in the air bothers her to no end. Although... Klaus doubts she would ever not over-fixate. It's in her nature to always want to be in control, and there's no way she can predict what the whole process of giving birth will be like, starting with when it'll happen. It could be in a week if the child's hasty, or in a month if she's stubborn.

Truth be told, nothing about this situation makes Klaus feel very comfortable himself, but this is probably the one area where his expertise is zero. He never thought there would come a day when it would be useful to understand the principles of childbirth. He wishes he could offer her more support, but alas, this is one of those extremely rare occasion where he'd rather just admit he doesn't have the slightest clue.

What he can do, however, is work on the werewolf alliance. It's of utmost importance that they have this sorted before the baby is born, and it is highly unlikely that they'll have another full moon after the one tomorrow night before the child is here. He'd be far more reassured knowing that his daughter will have an army ready to protect her. She's royalty to the wolves, and they'll owe a debt to Klaus if he frees them from their curse. Something tells Klaus that the threats to his child's life while she's still in her mother's womb will only intensify once she's born, and at least on that point he and Caroline are on the exact same page. She wants to get this done as much as he does, for the same reasons, with the added bonus that she actually personally cares about Jackson Kenner and his lot.

After the bombs, Caroline feels indebted to them, as though she were responsible for the attacks, even though they've reached a dead end on every investigation branch so far — meaning they have many theories, but no conclusive answer as to why the attacks happened and who orchestrated them. No amount of convincing is enough to alleviate Caroline's guilt, though, and after getting repeatedly snapped at and side-eyed, he's stopped trying. If what will make her feel better is getting these rings done so her friends will have means to defend themselves against those who wish to harm them... So be it.

"Your mother's spell is as complicated as it is elegant," she muses absentmindedly, talking to herself more than to him, her eyes carefully roaming through every line on the ten pages the spell occupies on the grimoire. Esther was nothing if not thorough. "Groundbreaking."

"Becoming a fan, love?"

"I don't have to like the artist to admire their work. She used her powers for all the wrong reasons, but she was a very gifted witch. The things that tie the magic to the ring... There are many steps, but it's so clever."

"Yes, well," he replies, not interested in singing praise to the Original witch. "Do we have everything we need?"

"I think so. She linked the protection magic to black kyanite stones, channeling the power of the full moon when it reaches its apex, plus a binding agent."

"What binding agent?"

"The blood of a werewolf that doesn't turn on the full moon." Caroline pauses, her lashes fluttering as she looks up at him again.

Klaus's eyebrows knit together. "You didn't mention that before."

"It's because I knew you'd freak out. But there's really no need to. Because of the baby, I can use -"

"Absolutely not," he jabs, resolutely.

"It's just a little bit -"

"We're not using my child's blood to bind a spell we've never done before, Caroline."

"Well, then we'll have to rush to the Bayou and -"

"We'll use mine," he says. "I don't turn on full moons."

Caroline's face creases with a thought, and she looks down again at the spell, flipping through a few pages forward. Something's bothering her.

"What is it?" he asks.

"I don't know... I hadn't thought about using your blood because you're a hybrid. It makes sense, but... I'm sensing there's something here that's escaping me. Like a catch. Some hidden underline I'm missing."

"You've been through those pages countless times, Caroline. If there was anything, you would've known."

"No, I was allowed to peek at bits of this at a time, and spells don't work like that. It's a whole, you have to understand how the entire thing is connected -"

"You're obsessing, sweetheart."

"Stop using that condescending tone on me," she bites, swelling in irritation. "I'm not obsessing, I'm being careful. This is old, powerful magic. You should show more respect."

Klaus swallows back a snarky retort and allows her to concentrate on her reading. It's the hormones, he tells himself. Ever since Caroline came back home, Klaus has been extra careful not to get her too riled up, but it seems at this stage almost anything is enough to annoy her. He can't really say he understands the physical changes she's going through, but he'd probably be in a terrible mood if he had something growing inside of him for nine months as well. If this spell is her way of channeling her frustrations, then -

"Shit."

He blinks at the distressed tone of her voice, sitting up straight. "What is it?"

"The pages were glued."

"What?"

"These freaking pages were glued!" she snaps, exasperated, carefully pulling two pages apart. "You didn't see this?"

"No."

She curses under her breath, smoothing down the previously glued pages, her eyes frantically running over his mother's writings. "Oh, fuck."

Klaus stands to his feet, worry finally starting to bite at him. "What's the matter?"

"I can't make this spell."

"What are you talking about?"

"It says here it requires an unadulterated, unclouded, pure magical connection to the celestial event in order for the spell to work."

"And what's the problem?"

"Don't you see what this is? I knew there was a reason I was getting some vibes from this spell about using hybrid blood, but it's worse than that. You mother added a fail-safe mechanism. Against hybrids performing the spell."

Klaus' placid look morphs into a scowl. "Of course she has," he grunts. "She was a witch, carrying the child of a werewolf."

"And so am I. She must've realized she couldn't perform the spell while she was pregnant with you and decided not to find a way around it, in case her half-witch, half-werewolf child ever decided to start making more of these rings. Right now, my blood is... Everything at once. It won't work if it's me." Caroline lets out a disgruntled sound, slamming her fisted hands down on the desk in frustration. "Damn it! See?! This is why you should've let me study this sooner. We have a very small window to perform the spell. If I'd known this, I could've figured something out. Damn it, damn it!"

Klaus feels a stab of anger. First it was his father, now his mother hounding him, ruining his plans from beyond the grave. Caroline is right. This is his fault. He should've known better than to trust that old witch, even if she's dead.

But not all is lost yet.

"I know someone who can help us," he offers tentatively.

Caroline peers at him questioningly, but her eyes flash as she swiftly understands who he's talking about. He can hear her teeth snapping together. "You have got to be kidding me," she grits out.

"Caroline, listen," he drawls calmly.

"Listen?" She pushes up from her seat, her nostrils flaring. "Seriously? You want to call your girlfriend?"

"First of all, stop calling her that. And second, she's a pure, powerful witch, and one that can be persuaded."

"Oh, sure! What are you gonna offer her now? A romantic weekend getaway?"

Klaus glares at her. "Caroline -"

"I don't trust her, Klaus. And I don't understand how you do. We still don't know who plotted the attack on the werewolves."

"It wasn't Genevieve."

"How do you know? Because she said so? It's really sweet that you're willing to believe her so blindly," she bites out sourly.

"It's not blindly - Caroline, please! My involvement with Genevieve had nothing to do with feelings or trust, and everything to do with personal gain. I don't trust her, I never did. But I wanted something from her, and she wanted something from me. And I still have the means to taunt her — not with the promise of romance, but with what she was trying to steal."

Caroline huffs out in disbelief. "You want to give her your mother's grimoire? That's an even worse idea than a date. The kind of magic in this thing, into the hands of that coven -"

"Not give. But I would be so inclined to let her peruse through it, perhaps, for a limited time, if she were to perform the spell for us. There has to be something specific she was after, if she was so certain that she'd find it there. A spell for a spell. Sounds like a fine deal to me."

Caroline crosses her arms over her chest, her exasperation clearly growing. "Those witches have made my life hell since they brought me here. They've tried to kill our baby. The werewolves were the ones who stopped them from doing it. Why would she possibly want to empower them, when they know on whose side the wolves will be?"

"Because she's desperate, and she won't get another chance."

Her eyes slide away, to a point behind him. "What do you think?" she asks, and Klaus realizes Elijah has been standing there.

"I don't trust Genevieve," his brother says, walking into the room. Brilliant, he thinks. Just what he needed right now, Elijah's sanctimonious words of wisdom as he's trying to convince Caroline. "However," he continues. "She did save your life. And unless we're willing to postpone this for at least a month, I don't see another option."

Klaus blinks at Elijah, surprised. He did not expect to get his support on this.

"So you agree with this?" Caroline scoffs. "And they call you the reasonable one."

"I agree with all your reservations, Caroline, and under different circumstances, I would be completely against this nonsense," Elijah starts, glancing at Klaus for support. "But our hands are tied. It's either that… Or giving up."

She shakes her head, indignation flaring in her eyes. "I don't like this."

"Neither do I, but I'm out of ideas," Klaus retorts. "If either of you have a better one, by all means."

"When she realizes that all you've wanted from her, all this time, was for her to help you create the rings that are going to give you an army -"

"I told you already, Caroline, she was using me right back."

"Maybe in the beginning, but she went beyond the business boundaries and you know that. Don't underestimate a brokenhearted woman, Klaus. Especially one with as much power and as much bitterness as Genevieve."

Klaus stalks towards her, placing both hands on her shoulders and looking her straight in the eyes; hers are hard as gems. "Don't worry, love. The three of us will have it all under control."

Caroline lets out a sharp exhale, her shoulders dropping in resignation. "For the sake of - well, everyone… I hope you're both right."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Caroline, you need to sit down," Elijah says as she starts pacing for the millionth time. It's driving him out of his mind. "You really have to calm yourself."

"Calm myself?" she snaps. "How the hell am I supposed to calm myself? No one's heard from Jackson since last night. Two grown ass werewolves don't just vanish out of thin air like this. They were on their way here and now they're gone. So don't tell me to calm the fuck down."

Elijah sighs, fishing his phone out of his pocket to call Niklaus.

They've been trying to contact the two werewolves who were supposed to bring the black kyanite stones all morning, but their phones are going straight to voicemail. Caroline reached out to some of her friends in the Bayou, and they've had no better success. Their alpha was meant to have checked in hours ago, but there's been no sign of him or his diminutive sidekick, Oliver. When Caroline's locator spells failed to provide even an approximate location, they had confirmation that something had gone terribly wrong. She has been losing her mind ever since.

Klaus left to speak to some of his minions spread across town and see if they had any news, but that was over an hour ago and he still hasn't called back.

Elijah fully understands Caroline's concern, but seeing her this anxious is making him distressed, and he cannot afford to lose his poise in a moment of crisis such as this. Someone needs to keep their wits.

One more minute of this insane pacing and he's going to physically restrain her.

"Yes, brother. What is it?" Klaus answers his phone rather calmly.

Caroline stops in front of him, lips pressed into a tight line, tapping her foot nervously.

"No words on our wolves yet?"

"No yet. They seem to have gone astray."

"I have a very concerned pregnant woman here," Elijah says, raising his eyebrows at Caroline.

"They should've been back hours ago," Caroline grunts.

"I can hear it," Klaus speaks around a sigh on the other end.

"We need to find them."

"Well, that might be a bit tricky," Klaus starts. "We've located their car on a backroad in the middle of nowhere, but no sign of the werewolves or the stones. I suspect they've been shanghaied."

"And you didn't feel the need to share this information?"

"What information?" Caroline demands. Elijah signals for her to wait and she lets out a disgruntled breath.

"It was my intention to present you with a problem only after I'd found an appropriate solution," Klaus explains, still way too composed for someone who just lost track of his most valuable allies. It's not like him to take something like this so coolly.

"Well, do enlighten us."

"I'm closing in on it as we speak. The only person who would be bold enough to snatch my wolf allies is the one who has the most to lose."

"Marcel."

Caroline's eyes widen in horror. "No. He'll kill them."

"Genevieve assures me that Marcel has procured a cloaking spell." Ah, Elijah thinks. That explains why Caroline couldn't find them. "The only witch who would aid Marcel is Davina. I just need to get one last bit of leverage before I pay her a visit."

"Niklaus," Elijah admonishes. "You do recall how that ended last time, don't you?"

"Don't worry, brother. It'll be fine. I won't make the same mistake twice. I have to go now. Young Joshua has just arrived."

Elijah puts his phone down and immediately he can feel Caroline bristling in front of him. "What?" she demands. "What is he doing?"

"Trying to get Davina's cooperation."

"Oh, Jesus. Don't tell me he's going to -"

"Honestly, Caroline. I would love to berate my brother for his less than friendly approach to problem solutions, but unfortunately we simply don't have the time to teach Niklaus manners. And like it or not, his temper might come in handy. If Marcel has the wolves..." Elijah leaves it at that. There's no need to add what Marcellus would like to do to the Crescent's alpha. He's eliminated more than one wolf clan over the years, and will certainly have no qualms with doing it again if he thinks they're a threat.

He can see the internal struggle in Caroline's eyes, though. She wants to do things the right, moral way, without threatening the innocent bystanders, and Elijah can agree with her. Sometimes. But Caroline will have to undress herself of certain beliefs if she is to make a life for herself and her daughter in New Orleans. As Elijah has learned the hard way himself, the people of this city will always think of their own interests before anyone else's, and if there's a way for them to profit, even if it means trampling over whoever stands in their way, they'll do it. Mystic Falls, with all its supernatural fanfare, is nothing compared to New Orleans. This city will eat you up if you dare to stay innocent in face of its viciousness.

She finally sits, slumping down on the couch and burying her face in her hands. "I hate this," she groans, her voice muffled. "I hate this so much."

Elijah sits next to her, gently stroking her back. He is in no way an expert on the subject, but common sense tells him no heavily pregnant woman should endure this amount of stress. "Don't we all?"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

First Klaus went out to investigate the mysterious disappearances of Jackson and Oliver. Then, about an hour ago, he called and Elijah went to meet him. Apparently he got word that the two of them were taken to the docks by Marcel. Caroline didn't ask how Klaus got that information. She suspects it might have been through torturing someone in order to get Davina to fess up. At least for now, she'd rather not worry about it. Elijah was right; they're on a clock here and Jackson's life is in real danger. Even if Klaus did something atrocious, it's not like there's anything she can do about it, anyway. She's got enough on her plate as it is. Like the unsolicited visitor that arrived at the compound.

Just to brighten up her day, Genevieve has come to keep her company.

It was apparently very easy for Klaus to convince her to help with the spell - which, Caroline pointed out, seemed awfully suspicious. "I know," Klaus said. At the very least he seemed just as bothered and cautious as she was. But, once more, they did not have enough time to dig deeper into Genevieve's possible motivations. For the sake of her mental health, Caroline will believe that all the witch wants is to get back into Klaus' pants. As inconvenient as it might be, it's a lesser issue compared to the alternatives.

Still, being left at home while the two of them are out there on a possible suicide mission, trying to rescue Jackson from the hands of someone who wants him very much dead, with no news on what's going on and Genevieve as her sole companion, is very close to Caroline's idea of hell.

Her nerves have been all over the place since Elijah left; she's gone right back to pacing around.

"Klaus should've called by now," she mutters, talking to herself more than anything and shaking her head against all the awful scenarios crossing her mind.

"You know, worrying isn't going to help", Genevieve offers. "You should sit down. Try to keep calm."

Caroline glares, swallowing back more than a few non-flattering expletives. She promised herself that she would bite her tongue in front of Genevieve and so far she's been successful, but that means her temper is flaring hot. Hearing that kind of condescending remark from Klaus and Elijah is annoying enough, but Caroline can at least believe that they mean well; but from that… woman? Nu-uhn.

"What are you now? Zen life coach?" she grumbles, trying — and failing — not to let irritation seep into her voice.

Genevieve's lips curl into a wan smile. "The treatment for pregnant women has advanced remarkably since I was a nurse, but even I know high blood pressure is bad for you and your baby, especially now that you're so close to term."

Caroline huffs out a displeased breath, but decides not to be unreasonable. Whatever her personal feelings for Genevieve, she isn't wrong. Caroline has been up and down this house like a mad person all day. The last thing she needs is to start having episodes like the one she had when Klaus snapped and tried to kill his entire family. She might not be so lucky the second time around.

She sits down, wringing her hands to keep from biting on her nails. "I hate this. I feel completely useless."

"Don't you get it? You're the point of all this. Klaus and Elijah running all over town... It's all for you," Genevieve says, a wistful tune beneath her words. "I'm a bit envious."

Caroline gives her a hard look, feeling not even a tiny bit sympathetic. "Great. Lucky me," she mutters with grim irony.

"Is there anything I can get you?"

Yes, you can leave me the fuck alone. "How about some moonlight rings?"

Genevieve takes a seat next to her. "It'll be done. We need to wait for the full moon to reach its apex. And I'm sure the stones will be here soon enough. Have a little faith."

Caroline clenches her jaw, staring at the other woman. She can feel her mood fraying by the second. The more polite and affable Genevieve sounds, the more distrustful she grows. Right now, she'd take high school-level pettiness over this excessive congeniality.

Before she can set the witch on fire with her eyes alone, Caroline stands up and marches out of the room. She's gonna call Klaus and Elijah again, and they better answer the freaking phone now or she'll lose it.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

When they arrive at the docks, Marcel and his buffoons are long gone. But he did leave them a werewolf behind. Just the one, though.

Klaus pulls the hood covering Jackson's head, and the wolf lets out a loud, painful groan, scrunching his eyes shut against the sudden brightness. Marcel really roughed him up. He's got bruises and cuts all over his face, his hands and feet tied up to a chair. Must have been injected with a large dose of wolfsbane as well.

Klaus holds Jackson's face with his hands none too gently, inspecting the wounds. Nasty, but he'll live.

"Accolades to Marcel. He did quite a dance across the bridge of your nose. Where is he now?" he asks, letting go of Jackson.

The werewolf looks down at his feet, and Klaus follows his gaze. There are what seem to be detonators connected to the chair and red wires leading to a bunch of crates spread across the warehouse. Klaus can bet he knows what lies inside those.

"Nowhere to be found..." Elijah mutters as he moves to inspect the content of the containers. His brother pulls open one of the crates, revealing just what Klaus suspected: explosives. "Although he did leave us a delightful parting gift."

"What about the stones?" he turns back to Jackson.

"I don't know. Untie me and I'll help you find them."

"Sit still," Elijah commands. "You'll be freed as soon as it's safe."

His brother is not wrong. A sudden movement from Jackson and this entire building will go up in the air — he confirms it as he blows the lid off another crate to find it filled with more C4. Klaus just doesn't think he particularly cares that much about what will be left of the Crescent alpha. "Our focus should be the stones," he says. "Considering Jackson here is competition for Caroline's affection, I think you'd agree."

"Disregard my brother," Elijah says to a gaping Jackson while he inspects the way the explosives were tied to the chair. "Over the course of the last millennium, his capacity for tact is somewhat diminished."

"Oh, that's typical, isn't it? Marcel fills a room with dynamite and yet I am the tactless one. I recognize these explosives from the attack on the Bayou, by the way. Could you remind me again why you believed that Marcel was innocent?"

"Well, remind me to ask him before I pull out his innards the next time we see him."

Klaus pulls another crate open. Yet more explosives. Marcel was not joking around. "Ok. Exercise extreme caution in this general area. Bit of a mess," he says, motioning his hands vaguely towards that side of the warehouse, where crates and more crates have been haphazardly piled up.

Elijah's phone goes off. "Impeccable timing," his brother mutters before taking the call.

Klaus knows it's Caroline even before he hears her exasperated voice on the other side.

"Finally! What the hell is going on? Why isn't your brother answering his freaking phone?"

Elijah cocks his eyebrows at Klaus, who merely rolls his eyes. "I must've left it in the car."

"He's here," Elijah says, calmly. "He's fine. So is Jackson, but he's a little... Tied up right now. Can we call you back?"

Klaus laughs at Elijah's floridness, going back to inspecting the crates. There's slight chance Marcel left the stones in one of those, but he needs to make sure. If Klaus wanted someone to blow themselves up, he would definitely leave the stones behind, just for the irony of it. Then again, not everyone is an enthusiast of his particular brand of humor. Still, he needs to be certain. In the next crate, he finds a little piece of paper. But just as he picks it up, one of the little blinking lights on the detonators goes from red to green.

"Oh, that doesn't bode well..."

"Are you trying to kill us?!" Jackson yells.

"Elijah, tell me what's going on, now!" Caroline's shrill voice demands.

Klaus unfolds the paper. This is for Thierry, it says. Elijah killed Marcel's former right-hand man after the disaster at the witches' feast, when Marcel orchestrated an attack that ended up leaving dozens of dead bodies behind. Klaus fails to see how this is the equivalent of that, though; Marcel should count himself lucky he made it out of that alive at all. Caroline very nearly got caught up in the chaos that night; if that had been the case, Thierry would've been the least of his concerns.

Klaus looks at his brother, who turns to the still tied up Jackson.

Well, now would probably be a good time to vacate the premises.

Another second later, the whole thing goes up in the air.

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Klaus half expects Caroline to assault him when they finally make it back to the compound, and by the look on her face when she sees him, he prepares for her fist to connect to his jaw when she strides across the room in his direction. He is genuinely surprised when, instead, she wraps her arms around him and pulls him into a tight embrace.

"Thank God, you're alive," she breathes out. Klaus relaxes into the embrace, placing a kiss on the side of her head. Her heart is pounding in her chest, poor thing.

"It takes more than a little bomb to put me down, love."

"What did I say about not getting yourself blown up?" She pulls away, her forehead creased in fiery indignation.

"Well, I would rather not get blown up myself, but unfortunately it was out of my hands."

She opens her mouth to retort, but then Elijah comes in, half-carrying Jackson. They managed to pull him out in the nick of time, but his rescue was not exactly gentle. He and Elijah got the worst of the explosion, and the landing was perhaps a bit too rough for an intoxicated werewolf in his human form.

"Oh my God," Caroline utters in shock, leaving him to go to Jackson's aid. "Jack," she says, her voice brimming with affection, giving him a warm embrace as well. Klaus gives Elijah a pointed look as though saying See?, while his brother merely shakes his head. That is why he wouldn't have bothered leaving the wolf behind at the warehouse. Then again, Klaus doubts Caroline would've forgiven them if they hadn't saved her friend. The choices he makes for the sake of others...

Caroline helps Jackson to the couch, sitting down next to him and taking a close — too close, in Klaus' opinion — look at the injuries on his face. "Are you ok?" she asks.

"I'll live."

"Oliver?"

"He's safe. I pleaded with Marcel to let him go and take only me."

Klaus rolls his eyes at Jackson's heroics, obviously trying to impress Caroline — and by the sympathetic look she gives him, it works. So typical. "What about the stones?" she asks.

"Scattered across the bed of the Mississippi, I imagine," Elijah says.

"Marcel is no fool," Klaus adds. "He knows an empowered werewolf army would mean the end of vampires' reign in New Orleans. The explosion is his way of saying he means to prevent that, for all the good it will do to him."

"Well, it did him pretty damn well," Caroline counters.

"This is my fault," Jackson grunts, his voice only a notch above a plaintive moan. "I will find a way to fix it."

"No, Jack. You're hurt," Caroline says, her voice pitched soft. "No one's blaming you."

"I'm blaming you," Klaus retorts. She glares at him, scrunching her mouth into a disapproving pout. He shrugs. "These stones are rare. They'll be hard to replace. Fortunately," he pauses, smirking at Elijah. "I always have a backup plan."

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Caroline huffs out a breath in frustration, regarding their visitors with palpable suspicion, not bothering to conceal her loathing. She looks tense, almost defensive, as though ready to attack. Once more, Elijah gets her grievance, but Niklaus does have a point, for a change. Which is not to say he's entirely on board with inviting Francesca Correa to their table.

The woman hasn't left a very good impression on Elijah, however moderate and rational her direct contributions may have been so far. There's something rather sketchy about her behavior, which he supposes comes with her line of business. Still, Elijah is not a fan of the slippery sort. Especially the type that doesn't seem afraid of creatures that could literally eat her and her entire family for dinner. As much as Elijah can admire those who are brave enough to face their fears, that does seem to be the case with Francesca. Her boldness edges on disrespect. It does not bode well for her.

"Greetings, Ms. Correa," Niklaus says as he flies down the stairs, Caroline and Elijah lagging a little behind him. "I see you've brought company."

"These are my brothers," she says, motioning towards five equally dodgy-looking men standing behind her. "I always include them in delicate business matters. Fellas, meet Mr. Mikaelson."

"Please, call me Klaus. All my friends do."

Caroline rolls her eyes into her skull, leaning her head back and making an aaaaaaaargh sound in her throat, which earns her strange looks from the Correa clan and a glare from Niklaus. Elijah grins; he thought it punctuated the moment perfectly.

"I don't know if I'd call us friends." Francesca fixes her eyes on Caroline as she speaks. "But if you and Marcel are planning on having a little throwdown, I'd prefer my family to be on the same side as the inevitable victor."

Francesca turns to one of her brothers, who carries a metallic briefcase. He opens it for her and she retrieves a small, delicate velvet bag from inside. "Not enough for an army at such short notice," she states, handing the bag over to Klaus. "But it's a start."

"Strange," Elijah muses, coming forward. "I wasn't aware that she was familiar with our plan."

He turns to Klaus with a questioning look, but it's Francesca who offers an explanation. "My price for doing business is full disclosure. Your brother complied."

Klaus opens the bag, inspecting the pieces inside with a satisfied half-smirk on his face. Elijah wonders how long it's been since he got in touch with the Correas about the stones. If he knew he could get them from her, he can't have called her last minute. As always, Klaus goes his own way, doing his own side-dealings while leaving everyone else in the dark. He supposes they should be grateful that he at least tried to stick to plan A for as long as it was possible this time around.

"How does the human faction expect to benefit from all this?" Elijah questions.

"I only want to solidify our allegiance to the ruling class. It's good for business," Francesca says.

"If only everyone shared your capacity for reason," Niklaus drawls.

"Sadly, they don't. Marcel is being especially vindictive. I'm worried he might come after me or my family just for meeting with you. It might be in our best interests if we combine our efforts."

"So be it. The more bodies we have to defend the compound, the better," Klaus says, looking at Caroline, who is not, by any means, happy about this.

What started as a secret forging of rings for the werewolves has evolved into a full-out declaration of war. Marcel and his men are now aware of what they aim to do, which has, in turn, forced their hand. If they don't get to the Crescents tonight, they'll be incredibly vulnerable to attacks from the vampires for at least an entire month, and it's unlikely that Marcel will go easier on them by the next full moon. The pack will be slaughtered. And in the middle of all that, his brother's baby will be born.

How did this get so out of hand, so fast?

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Caroline didn't want to stay to discuss battle plans with the Correa clan. It's bad enough that Genevieve is in the house; tolerating both her and Francesca is too much. She's way too hormonal to disguise her antipathy for both of them. So while Klaus and Elijah sat with their newly recruited skeevy allies, she retreated back to the second floor, where Jackson was still trying to recover. He always feels weaker right before a full moon and Marcel shot him with an extra powerful dose of wolfsbane to keep him supple, so his wounds, which were pretty rough to begin with, are taking forever to heal.

She takes a shirt from Klaus' closet so he can shed his ruined one and helps him patch up his arm. There's a large gash there and he bumped it pretty badly when Elijah pulled him out of the building. He makes a face while Caroline ties the gauze around it, as gently as she can, but doesn't complain. When she's done, she holds his arm still, putting her hand on top of it and chanting a few quick words.

"What is that?" he asks.

"Just something to take off the pain," she explains, interrupting it quickly. He immediately stretches out his arm more comfortably when she's done. "Don't put too much strain on it. I just disguised the soreness, the injury is still healing."

"Thanks." He puts his arm into the shirt's sleeve, doing up the buttons.

"Don't thank me," Caroline says, taking a step back. "It was Klaus and Elijah who vamped you out of that building."

"They seem to really care about you."

"Yeah, well. It's... Complicated."

Jackson snorts, a tired smile curving his mouth. "That's the understatement of the year. Look. I gotta go, get back to the Bayou before the moon rises."

Caroline nods. "This will be the last time, Jack. I promise."

"You know..." he starts, holding her gaze. "Klaus isn't doing this out of the kindness of his heart. He's doing it for you, Caroline. You really are the one who'll change everything, for all of us."

Caroline awards him with a diffident smile because she knows he means well, but that kind of thing does not amount to make her feel comfortable at all. The truth is she has no idea what she's doing here, has been moving along as the tide carries her, just trying to do her best, and often feeling like she's failing. Jackson has been through so much already, and he's been an amazing leader to his pack, keeping his people together through revolutions and tragedy. That he would put that kind of faith in her, a newcomer who's not even a werewolf herself, is as flattering as it is terrifying. The Crescents' situation has considerably improved since she first arrived in New Orleans, but they're still so vulnerable... Jackson has been nothing but kind towards her, and she would hate to disappoint him.

Just as he whirls around to leave, Klaus comes in. Jack stops, the two of them staring each other down with barely veiled hostility. "Seems I owe you yet again," Jackson concedes reluctantly. "Thanks for the shirt," he adds, brushing by Klaus and walking out of the room.

Klaus turns to her with arched eyebrows. "You let him steal one of my shirts?"

"He didn't steal anything, I gave it to him. His was ruined. And he let you borrow one of his, remember?"

Klaus scoffs. "Please… He let me borrow one of those filthy flannel things he wears. That probably costs more than everything he owns."

"Oh, God..." Caroline, grunts, shaking her head reprovingly. "And people think you and Elijah have nothing in common. The snobbish ego-trip, ugh... You're more alike than you think. And I do not mean that in a good way."

He shrugs, pouring himself a generous dose of scotch. "The good taste gene is likely the one thing we share."

Caroline crosses her arms as she watches him. "Do you really think it's the time for that?"

"Takes the edge off," he replies flatly, sipping from his glass.

"We're gonna have to talk about your drinking problem -"

"I don't have a drinking problem."

" - and how much booze you have scattered around every room in this house once the baby is born. You keep alcohol in the bathroom, Klaus."

He shrugs. "Well, you never know."

Caroline rolls her eyes at him, shaking her head. "Anyway. Baby-proofing is a thing."

"Until then," he says, lifting his glass towards her in a mock toast. "Charming fella, this Jackson."

"He's a good guy. I trust him. And so should you."

Klaus purses his mouth, looking down at his glass. "You two seem to have a very affectionate relationship."

Caroline arches her eyebrows. "Really? You wanna talk about that? Now?"

"Not particularly, but I can't help but feel there's yet another rival on the field. One with a heart of gold and a far less complicated history," he bemoans, coaxing a tired sigh out of Caroline.

She walks up to him, prying the glass from his fingers as she stares right into the storm in his blue eyes. Almost nine months since Mystic Falls and the magnetism there still feels just as inescapable. It used to spook her, the intensity of his gaze, how easily he could see past her walls, tempting uncomfortable truths to the surface that she would rather deny. Now she just makes herself wide open to him, invites him into her soul. Can't you see?, she wants to scream. Can't you see I love you?

She touches the side of his neck, her fingers grazing the stubbled skin on his jawline, and smiles. "What am I gonna do with you?"

A dimple cuts into one of his cheeks. "I could offer a few ideas."

"Shut up." Caroline's hand slides to the nape of his neck, and she pulls him in, mashing their lips together. It starts as a slow, languorous kiss, his tongue dancing demurely with her own, but because Klaus is Klaus, he immediately takes over, tilting his head to the side for better access and ravaging her mouth. Caroline yields easily, relaxing into the reassurance of his arms. For just a moment there, she can pretend that the world is not ending right down in their courtyard.

She doesn't know how long they stay like that; it feels like forever, but it's not nearly long enough. He draws back from her, peppering gentle kisses on her cheek, her eyelid and her forehead.

"When tonight is over, you and I are gonna have a conversation," she murmurs. "And you better be prepared to be honest about certain things."

She feels his mouth slanting into a smile against her skin. "Something to look forward to."

"We just need to make sure we make it through this evening," she speaks around a sigh. As she pulls slightly away, the magic of their moment dispels, and Caroline gets that nerve-jangling sensation uncurling in her belly again. "How much do you trust Francesca?"

"Not at all." Klaus puts a finger under her chin, forcing her to level his look. "But we don't have to trust her. She's delivered on the stones. It's all we need from her. Whatever obscure reasons she may carry behind her bout of camaraderie, we'll deal with it some other time. Now that Marcel knows of our plan, we no longer have a choice. We either get the rings done tonight, or the wolves will be more vulnerable than ever. Marcel has wiped out entire werewolf clans before, the Crescents can say they had it easy compared to what happened to some of the others. He won't hesitate to do it again. We won't have until the next full moon to give it another shot, and knowing that you'll be the witch behind it will put a target on your back as well. Not to mention -"

"The baby," she completes for him.

"Yes. So we either go ahead, or we put a full stop to the plan and the Crescents will be fighting for their lives for the next month."

Caroline looks away from him, down, her stomach churning at the awfulness of their choices. Eve's face flares in her mind — calm, pale and dead. It brings an acrid tang to her mouth and a familiar heaviness to her chest.

"Caroline," Klaus croons gently, waiting until she looks up again. "If you don't want to do this, now's the time to say it. We'll pack our bags and be gone from the French Quarter before morning."

"What about the werewolves?"

"There isn't much to be done there. It'll be up to Jackson to take care of his people. Preferably get them all as far away from here as possible for the time being. If he's as good a leader as you think, he'll find a way."

Caroline expels an exasperated breath. That's not an option. There are way too many people out there, people who recently lost everything in the explosions. The camp had barely recovered from that. It's impossible to get them all out, and even if they could, conditions would be terrible. There's only one choice here. "No. You're right, we have to take this forward. I just... Don't like any of this."

"No one does, love. But they have come at us. Now it's time to fight back."

"Isn't it always?"

Klaus presses his mouth against hers. "I have to go check that the witch downstairs has everything ready to start."

Caroline rubs her own arms to try and dispel the cold that settles into her bones when Klaus steps away. She calls him back right before he leaves, and he whirls around, all the softness gone from his face, his expression now set to determination. "Be careful," she urges.

Klaus flashes his dimples at her with a smug smirk. "They're the ones who should be careful, sweetheart."

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Klaus has a bit of a lift in his step as he walks out of the room and down to the first floor, but the second he sets eyes on Genevieve, all the glee dissolves into sourness. He shares every bit of Caroline's discomfort with having to depend upon the good will of the likes of her and Francesca Correa, but they've come too far to turn back now. They can either get the rings and solidify their alliance with the werewolves, or they might as well give up entirely, pack their bags and leave New Orleans for good. Who knows, the witches and the humans might yet surprise everyone and prove their worth by the end of the night. And they should, if they have any idea who they're dealing with here.

"Are you all set to start?" he enquiries curtly.

"The last ingredient is personal," Genevieve says. "I need the blood of a werewolf that doesn't turn on a full moon. Since Caroline is carrying a baby werewolf -"

"Out of question. I'd just as soon limit the mother of my unborn child to the side effects of your witchery," he says, striding over to her. A muscle twitches on Genevieve's jaw, but her haughty expression never wavers. "I am half wolf. I control my form. Use me."

Klaus stretches his arm out in front of her. Genevieve falters but for a second before taking her dagger. Before she can slice him open, however, Klaus wraps his fingers tightly around her wrist, staring her down. "If you fail to uphold your end of the deal, the consequences for you will be apocalyptic," he warns in a deceptively calm intonation.

Genevieve' lips curl into a distasteful grin as she pulls her hand free. "You say the most romantic things."

She touches the dagger to the palm of his hand, slicing open a cut with spite. It stings, but Klaus merely smirks, clenching his hand into a fist and letting his blood drip over the stones, spread across a circle of rock salt on his dinner table.

He feels a shift in the air, like the pull of a magnetic field. "Very well," Genevieve announces. "It's time."

She stretches her hands out over the stones, shuts her eyes and gets to chanting. Caroline and Elijah enter the room, their foreheads creased with the same kind of concern.

Klaus walks over to Caroline, but her eyes never leave the other witch. "Is it working?" he asks.

"Something is certainly happening," she replies, thoughtfully. "But we won't know what until she's done."

Caroline barely blinks as she watches Genevieve work, her eyes moving frantically from the witch to the stones, almost as though she's seeing something that they cannot. As though, to her, magic is palpable, visible energy.

Their concentration is broken by Francesca Correa. "My people say Marcel is on the move," she warns. "And he's bringing friends."

This is it, then. Klaus exchanges an aggravated look with Elijah as a heavy atmosphere settles about the room. Time to suit up for battle. The great reckoning he and Marcel have been postponing for months is finally upon them.

Klaus is not at all afraid for himself. He can handle Marcel's entire army of miscreant street rats while blindfolded. But he knows exactly what they'll be going after in order to slow him down, the only leverage they could ever have against Klaus.

"Get Caroline to safety," he tells his brother before whirling around to face the vampires, a spark of anticipation flaring up inside him.

He's been far too lenient with Marcel. If he'd punished him as he deserved after his and Rebekah's betrayal was revealed, none of this would be happening. The attack on the Bayou would've never happened, the wolves wouldn't have been kidnapped and they'd be having a far smoother evening.

Well, no more. Tonight, his old friend will finally regret ever having challenged his maker.

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Caroline watches Klaus leave with her heart hung heavy with an ill-defined dread.

She's never been much of a psychic. Not like Bonnie, who could foresee things even before she knew about her powers. Or that backstabbing bitch Sabine — or Celeste, or whoever she was — spreading word of apocalyptic dreams about her child. But every witch has some clairvoyant energy in them, and Caroline's afraid this persistent feeling at the pit of her stomach nagging her all day is more than just nausea.

"Come with me," Elijah says, meaning for her to follow, but Caroline stands her foot.

"I'm not going anywhere." He turns around with a protest ready to fire, so she adds, bobbing her head towards Genevieve. "Someone needs to watch her."

"There's a war about to start inside these walls, Caroline."

"I know. And we all have a part to play."

Elijah fidgets on his spot, clearly not satisfied. "You should help, Klaus," Francesca says. "My brothers and their security details won't be much against a vampire army. It's all right. I'll stay with Caroline."

Caroline gives her a side-eye, wondering what exactly she thinks she'll be able to do if the battle comes knocking on their door. It's more likely Caroline will be the one saving her ass. But right now is not the time to fight her. At least until tonight is over, they're on the same side.

She stalks over to Elijah, taking one of his hands between hers. "I'll be fine. Go. And don't hold back."

He's still reluctant, but something about her must at least convince him that he won't get her to move out of Genevieve's side until she has all those stones in her possession. He sighs, nodding, and squeezes her hand tightly before going after Klaus.

For some reason, she feels better knowing the two immortals will be together out there than with one of them standing guard here with her. She has a feeling they'll be needing each other for what's to come.

Caroline just hopes Klaus has the white oak stake hidden where no vampire can find it.

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Elijah walks out into the courtyard to find his brother with a bemused look plastered across his face as he watches vampires flocking in from all directions. Some even jump from the roof, like a bunch of uncivilized animals.

He has to give credit where it's due, though; there are far more people here than he expected. Marcel has managed to rally the entire vampire community of the French Quarter against them. All because Niklaus threatened to give the werewolves, whom they've abused for decades, some weapons to fight back at last. It's pure hatred what has brought them all out tonight, ready to risk their miserable lives. How so very sad.

At least they're here fighting for a good cause, something greater than even this city's petty disputes: they fight for family.

"I thought this lot would've learned their lesson," Niklaus mutters. Not too long ago he killed half of Marcel's most trusted allies all on his own and sank his poisonous teeth into the ones who weren't smart enough to run.

"Well, they're not exactly renowned for their genius," Elijah offers.

"So where's the ringleader of this circus?" his brother's voice booms across the courtyard. "Too afraid to show his face?"

"I'm here," Marcellus announces himself, appearing on the second floor walkway like a king greeting his subjects. The sheer audacity of it makes Elijah want to remove the smile off his face with a pincer. "I'm gonna offer you one last chance to pack your stuff and get the hell out of my town."

"Or what?" Niklaus argues. "You'll allow your men to rush to their deaths? Again?"

"Look around. Every vampire in the Quarter is coming out. They want their city back, no surrender this time. You're gonna have to kill us all."

Klaus arches his eyebrows at Marcel. "Ok," he concedes, his voice almost serene. "I think I'll start with you, then."

"Fine. Come get me," Marcel shrugs, and then he flashes away from the compound. So typical... Starts a fight he cannot win and takes it to the street, like a coward, looking for somewhere to hide.

"If you don't kill him, I will," Elijah warns his brother.

"He's mine," Niklaus retorts. "This won't take long."

His brother whooshes away after his former protégé, leaving Elijah to handle the rest of the riff raff on his own. Well, Francesca's brothers and their suited guards are here somewhere, but he doesn't expect them to try to interfere. Their bullets won't do more than graze these rats.

It's been a while since Elijah last had a good fight. He hates to ruin a perfectly nice suit, but, truth be told, he could use the exercise.

"Gentlemen," he says, undoing the buttons on his jacket, his eyes set on Diego. "Shall we?"

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Klaus strides across the deserted streets of the French Quarter, following the stench of fear left by that traitor, with murder in his eyes.

He knows exactly what Marcel is doing, luring him away from the compound, hoping to distract him while his men try to take down Elijah. He probably thinks his big brother is an easier target. If Klaus wasn't so possessed by revenge, he'd find it in him to be amused by this common misconception about the noblest of the Mikaelsons.

His brother hides his monster well behind the fine lines of his suits and the polite smoothness of his voice. A gentlemen, they believe, so civilized, so regal. Who they think taught Klaus how to fight? He may be more temperamental and explosive - after all he's half werewolf - but Elijah is just as vicious, if not more, when provoked. Not to mention he's much more of a snob, and if there's one thing he abhors is to have inferior beings claiming supremacy over him. Elijah really thinks himself some kind of royalty, as one of the original sirers of all vampires in existence. They do suffer from terribly inflated egos, the Mikaelsons. But not without cause.

Right now, Elijah has every reason to tear them all to shreds. They've dared to call the city they built, that Marcel stole from them, theirs, and now they violate their home, endangering his niece and the woman he so clearly loves. Caroline is as much a sore spot for Klaus as she is for Elijah. They're in for a surprise if they think the hybrid is the only one whose patience has run thin.

Marcel's only chance to remain alive by the end of this evening is to run away, as he should've done when he was granted him permission to leave the Quarter with his head still attached to his neck. But alas, he does seem to have a death wish, because he jumps out of a shadow and attacks Klaus from behind.

Stunned, he tumbles, and Marcel takes the opportunity to punch him with all his might. Once, twice, three times. Klaus straightens his posture, cracking his neck. "Not bad," he says, spitting blood on the sidewalk. "But not nearly good enough."

Show time, then.

He dodges Marcel's next attack and grabs him by the waist, hurling him against a light pole. Before he has a chance to recompose himself, Klaus smashes his head against the pole and then sends him flying across the street. He falls on top of a car, rolling off to the ground with a pitiful groan.

"How pathetic you've become," Klaus speaks around a sigh. "Explosives, Marcellus, really? I should've known it was you who detonated those bombs in the Bayou."

Marcel stands to his feet, his lips curling back to reveal his perfectly white teeth gritted ferociously. "The docks, that was me. I got the detonators from Francesca. Why don't you ask her about the Bayou bombing?"

"Lies and distraction," Klaus hisses at him.

"I never went after Caroline!" Marcel barks angrily. "I'm not a monster Klaus!"

Cold ripples through Klaus. If what he's saying is true — that Francesca is the one who blew up those bombs in the Bayou — then he just left Caroline and Elijah with her at the compound, with an army of vampires to keep his brother thoroughly occupied. If Caroline was the aim of that attack, she'll have a perfect chance to try again. But what could that woman possibly aim to achieve by this? She's human. Caroline can crush her with her thumb. There's absolutely nothing to be gained by antagonizing his family. She can't beat them.

No. Marcel is lying. He has to be. He's the one with the most to lose and, clearly, willing to risk it all to keep the wolves from leaving the swamp. He's the one behind those bombs, behind Eve's death, and now he aims to distract Klaus with his deceit.

"I don't believe you," he fires back before charging against the other man.

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Caroline taps her feet nervously. They can hear the screams and the grunts and the painful moans filtering in from the courtyard. She hopes to God that it's Klaus and Elijah kicking some vampire ass, and not the other way around. But the background noise is only making her more anxious.

She knows Genevieve is not actively stalling; she studied the spell, it's a complicated one and there are twelve stones to enchant. It's bound to take time. But, honestly, can't she hear the carnage going on right outside the door? It won't be long before one of the vampires decides to break in.

Her phone goes off. She picks it up, expecting it to be someone from the Bayou, one of the non-triggered wolves, inquiring about the rings, but it's Cami. She has no idea what her friend could possibly want at this late hour, but it's gonna have to wait until tomorrow. Caroline ignores the call and puts the phone aside.

A second later, one of Francesca's security men comes in. "Ms. Correa," he says. "We need to leave. Your brothers are already heading out the back."

She lifts a palm out, her eyes fixed on Genevieve. "Not yet."

There's a shift in the air; Caroline senses as a big rush of energy flows towards the stones all at once. She can almost see the lines surrounding the tiny pieces of black kyanite, and then being absorbed into them. The spell worked.

Genevieve stops chanting and picks one up to inspect. "The stones are finished," she says. "I've done my part. Now it's up to you."

Caroline nods. "I'll get them to the Bayou."

"Actually, she was talking to me." Francesca advances towards Genevieve, taking all of the stones into her hands.

Caroline blinks at the two women, her face creasing with stunned apprehension. "What the hell is this?"

"Call it a side deal," Francesca says. "I'm taking the stones."

She turns on her heels, ready to walk out, but Caroline chases after her. "Are you out of your mind? Do you think humans can go up against Klaus? He'll slaughter every last one of you."

Francesca stops dead on her tracks, a choked sound escaping her throat. "No," she grits out, drawing the air in through her nose. "I don't think humans can take on him. Then again, I'm not human."

She bends over with a loud, painful grunt, but a second later she straightens up, an ugly self-satisfied smirk spread on her lips. When she opens her eyes, Caroline sees them flash yellow.

Her heart gives a violent lurch, eyes wide in shock. "You're... A werewolf... How...?"

"We've been disguising ourselves for decades. But now, thanks to you, we won't have to anymore. I'm going to take back my town."

Caroline recovers fast, grinding her teeth together, magic coming to life inside of her with a ferocious rumble. A heavy gust of air rushes in as she stalks purposefully towards Francesca. "Like hell I'm letting you walk out of here with my stones."

She lifts her hand to give Francesca a stroke that will put her down for a month, but something stops her. Caroline's throat inexplicably constricts, the whole world tilting dangerously around her. Her vision doubles, and then starts to fade, a sharp twinge of pain on her lower belly.

She puts her hands on her stomach, gripping the fabric of her dress with every fiber of strength she can muster, and then everything disappears in black.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Klaus punches Marcel's face into the ground until he hears a crack. The other man's nose is a bloody mess, his eyes dark and swollen. It'll all be healed in a minute, but it feels good to destroy the pretty face that turned his sister against her own family, even if it won't stick.

He leaves the other man writhing on the ground and stands to his feet, looking at the pathetic figure of what used to be his favorite person in the whole wide world outside of his family. There was once a day, barely a century ago, when Klaus would've done anything for him. He would've fought an army for Marcel. Now look at them... He should feel sadder about this, he reckons. But Marcel hasn't just driven Rebekah away; he's dared to go after Klaus' new favorite person. The woman he loves, pregnant with his child. That cannot be forgiven.

"Marcellus," he drawls out, his voice drenched in scorn. "How well your name fits you. Little warrior... Though ultimately one of no consequence."

Marcel rolls over, pushing himself off the ground with a lot of difficulty, spitting blood and perhaps a few teeth on the street. "My name... is Marcel," he grunts.

He tries to launch at Klaus again, which is just getting ridiculous at this point. Klaus puts a hand behind his neck, smashing his face down onto a car. "Is there no end to your defiance? You summoned Mikael, turned Rebekah against me, tried to bury me in your garden, and yet you always fail. You never learn."

Klaus pulls him up, both hands around his neck. Marcel can barely keep his eyes open, but Klaus wants him to look at him, to see the face of the man who's given him everything, including his life, his precious immortality, and who will now end him once and for all. "What is there left to do but put you out of your misery?"

For just a second, the face of the little boy he rescued from that sordid plantation house flares up before him. The one Klaus raised like a son, teaching music and art and Shakespeare. He would never claim to have been a good father, but he did so love Marcel. A son, a best friend, a right-hand man, a brother... Klaus feels the familiar prickling of tears behind his eyes, his heart constricting in his chest as he glimpses the end of an era. He cries for the boy he once loved, not for the ungrateful one standing before him. This Marcel is but a twisted shadow of the past one, and he deserves nothing but Klaus' contempt.

He feels the roar of the beast inside of him as he sinks his fangs into Marcel's neck. Klaus could rip out his heart, sever his head, take off his daylight ring and watch him burn as the sun rises in a few hours. But these would all be quick, merciful deaths. Marcel has relinquished the right to kindness.

Oh, he will die, for certain. Slow and painfully, losing his mind to dementia bit by bit, all the while knowing that it was a superior creature which he dared to challenge who condemned him to his fate. The same superior creature who could save him, but who will instead step aside and watch him perish.

All of a sudden, Klaus feels a sharp wave of pain in his guts. It sinks into his bones, making his vision explode in white. Klaus hollers, pulling away from Marcel. His first thought is that Marcel has stabbed him with something, but… It wasn't him. Marcel's arms hang limp beside his body. There's no wound, no blood.

A tingly sensation starts on the palm of his hand, quickly sharpening until his skin is burning up and aching, and when he looks at it, he sees the cut Genevieve made with her dagger reopened, as though it'd never healed, and now bleeding profusely.

His stomach is racked with nausea, and all the blood he just drank from Marcel comes spilling out of his mouth with a violent shudder. His entire body spasms, and his legs threaten to give in under his weight as a second wave of pain hits him with much more intensity. Klaus howls, grinding his teeth and holding onto a car not to tumble.

Marcel takes his moment of distraction to whisk away into the night, but Klaus doesn't even have a chance to chase. Soon there's a third wave, and then a fourth, and a fifth, and with each new one he feels weaker, his entire body burning from the inside out.

He loses track of time as he stays writhing on the ground. It feels like forever while excruciating pain tears through him, barely giving him time to breathe or think or react. For some reason, he's not healing. It takes ages for the waves to stop shooting and the torture to recede enough for him to push himself up, but his limbs tremble, barely able to sustain his own weight, his hand still aching from the cut that refuses to close. He's weak, too weak; wouldn't be able to fight a human child right now.

He needs to feed.

Klaus stumbles his way across the street, so conveniently empty now that he could use an easy prey, until he reaches a bar. He smells food inside and finds a middle-aged man mopping the floors.

"I'm sorry, mate, but I'm a bit famished." He's not even done talking before he's throwing himself over the man, sinking his teeth into his pulsing carotid. Klaus drinks in large gulps, draining the man out like he hasn't done in a while. But as soon as he's done, his stomach swells, twists in pain, and he starts heaving violently, vomiting everything he just ate, and then some.

He's been poisoned. That's the only answer.

He hears a tiny giggle behind him, and when he whips around, Genevieve is there, a cruel slanted smile on her face.

"Don't you look awful?" she snickers.

"What is happening to me?" he sputters. "Why aren't I healing?"

"You were the one who wanted me to cast the spell using your blood. See, my plan was to use Caroline's, but since you insisted, I had to improvise. So I made the stones by linking their power directly to you. Now every full moon, whenever a werewolf uses that power to keep from turning, they will be drawing from your strength and causing you terrible pain. You're weaker than a mere mortal right now, Klaus. And no amount of snacks will be able to heal you."

Klaus swallows down hard, a mix of anger and fear coiling around his stomach. He locks eyes with the witch's icy cold ones. "After all I offered you... You'll betray me?"

Genevieve crouches down in front of him, holding his chin up. "Look me in the eye, Nik. Did you ever care about me, even for a moment?" He says nothing, but something on his face must be enough answer. Her eyes flash as she pulls her hand away. "I could never compete with her, could I? Your precious, pure Caroline."

Caroline.

Her voice thunders through his head.

Don't underestimate a brokenhearted woman, Klaus. Especially one with as much power and as much bitterness as Genevieve.

"Francesca kept her part of the deal. There is, after all, honor among thieves, even if they are werewolves," the witch continues as she stands to her feet and starts walking to the door. Werewolves? The word registers in Klaus' mind, but his thoughts are screaming and he can barely make out what she is saying. Francesca Correa is a werewolf? That means…

The bombs in the Bayou. The stones. It all makes sense. Marcel wasn't lying. It was her. It was all her. Klaus gathers every fiber of strength in his body in order to push himself up, leaning onto the bar.

"The great irony for you is that, in wanting to take the city, you've lost everything. Your sister. Your adopted son. And now even your child and her mother will suffer, all because of your greed," Genevieve finishes.

A ferocious snarl rips out of his throat at her mention of Caroline. He tries to charge towards her, but he hasn't got enough strength on his legs or arms. His body tumbles forward, and he falls on top of the bar stools, breathing hard through his nose. "I will kill you," he seethes.

Genevieve scoffs. "As weak as you are? Doubtful. You're finished, Klaus."

She stretches out her hand, and his head explodes in agonizing pain once more, until he sees no more, and darkness is all there is.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Elijah wakes up to the sound of a pitiful scream.

"No, no, no... Diego, no..."

His mind reels as he tries to gather his bearings, blood racing to his head in a dizzying rush.

He'd just about beaten almost all of the vampires to the ground. Only a handful of them still stood. Some had already fled. The casualties were few; they were far too many for him to take his time finishing them off. But it was a good show, he bet they'd learned an invaluable lesson. And then Francesca Correa walked in, surrounded by her brothers.

"Good job. Saves me the trouble of having to kill all these vampires myself."

Elijah narrowed his eyes, sensing something fundamentally different... Not only about her, but her brothers as well. A familiar stench... Werewolves.

Before he could react, however, he was jumped.

Elijah takes his hand up to his neck, his fingers brushing a terribly sore spot right under his ear. Three rabid bites. They attacked him, infected him with their venom. The rush was so violent he passed out. But if they managed to bite him in their human forms...

The stones. They must've taken the stones. That's why she was so interested, why she was so zealous when Niklaus called. But how did she even know about the spell? She must've been working with someone. With Marcel. But then... Did she betray him too?

Elijah lifts his head. Marcel is leaning over the body of his favorite acolyte, Diego. He's convulsing on the ground. All of them are. Francesca and her mobster family bit all of them, the ones Elijah had temporarily put down. If they were working together, then why would she turn on the vampires?

A woman comes rushing in, running, blond hair flowing behind her. For a second, in his daze, Elijah thinks it's Caroline, tries to pull himself up and go to her. But he staggers, his vision doubling as lancinating pain slashes through his head.

Caroline.

He left her with Francesca. Caroline would've never let her take those stones without a fight. If Francesca managed to keep them... No.

"Oh my God, Marcel! I've been trying to find someone, anyone!" It's not Caroline. It's Camille, her voice quivering as she takes in the war zone around her.

"Cami, you need to get out of here," Marcel urges. "My guys have been bitten by wolves. They'll get sick and then blood-crazy."

"We need to find Klaus. His blood can heal you."

Niklaus... Where is he?

He needs some answers. He needs some answers now.

Elijah pushes himself off the ground. Slowly, some clarity returns to him. Before going to Marcel, he returns to the dining room where he left Caroline, half expecting - and dreading - to find her body. But there's nothing. No sign of her, or Genevieve. Not even any signs of struggle. Someone took her, and they made so in a way she could not defend herself.

Fury flashes through Elijah, swift and hot. He left Caroline on her own to fight those useless vampires and now someone has her.

"Marcel!" he barks ferociously as he returns to the courtyard. He'll keep his word; if Niklaus couldn't finish him, then he will. This is all his fault. But first... "Where is she?" he demands, stalking over to him. He pushes a chair out of his way, ready to break it and use it to stake the hell out of that ungrateful bastard. "Where is Caroline?!"

Camille rushes over to him, putting herself between Elijah and the vampire. "He doesn't have her," she says. "Please. I know you don't trust him, but you know I wouldn't lie. He doesn't have her."

Elijah peers into Camille's desperate eyes. "Why would I trust you?"

"Because she's my friend and I wouldn't lie about this. I've been trying to call her for hours, to warn her or Klaus - anyone. I found some files my uncle kept. He'd been investigating the Correa's for years. He found out that family's entire line was bogus. They faked birth certificates, changed names... They're werewolves. All of them. Guerrera werewolves."

"That's impossible," Marcel says. "I killed them. The entire clan. Ages ago, back in the 20s."

"Not all of them," Cami replies, shaking her head. "They survived and they managed to stay hidden. I'm guessing they're responsible for... this?" she motions towards the bodies writhing in torment all around them.

That offers some clarity. But he couldn't care less about which werewolf clan Francesca Correa belongs to. It doesn't matter. Right now, there's only one thing he cares about. "You haven't answered my question." He brushes past Camille to stare down at Marcel. He's got a huge, ugly bite on his neck. Niklaus' signature, Elijah recognizes. His fangs are different, shred the flesh in a much more vicious way. Marcel will be dead before the day's over. "Where's my brother?"

"I left him in the street. He was gonna kill me, and then he got jacked up by some witch's spell."

And just like that, it all starts to come together.

"Genevieve."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

They drag her, kicking and screaming, down the church aisle. She can feel her magic pooled deep inside of her, dormant. No matter how hard she tries to reach it, it just won't answer.

It's the manacles around her wrists. Those goddamn manacles again, limiting her movements and keeping her from taking down the fuckers holding her up.

"Stop fighting!" one of the guys hisses at her, giving her arm a violent jerk.

Caroline roars in rage, feeling a different kind of surge than the magic one as she elbows him in the face and then kicks him in the groin. He drops down with a painful cry, and she whips around, ready to strike the next one, but her body explodes in pain and she doubles over with a scream.

It can't be contractions. It's just not possible. It's too soon. She's still weeks away from her approximate due date. It just can't be.

She's been getting these monumental cramps, washing through her like a wave across her entire lower body, since she woke up on the back seat of a car, surrounded by weird people and with these anti-magic chains binding her. Her back, her abdomen, her pelvis and then her legs... Everything screams with the ache that knocks the air off her lungs.

"Get her down on the floor!" It's Genevieve. She'd recognize that bitch's saccharine voice anywhere.

Some other pair of strong arms wrap around her from behind, dragging her the rest of the way, almost to the altar, and then pushing her onto the ground. Caroline thrashes about, kicking in every direction, hearing a crack as she connects with a jaw. But then Genevieve appears before her, hands out, pinning her body to the floor with magic to keep her from fighting back. Caroline grinds her teeth together so hard her head pounds, a frustrated roar ripping out of her chest.

What the hell are they doing? Why have they brought her to a freaking church?

"We need to take her to the city of the dead." Another voice, a young one. Caroline snaps her head around, trying to find who's talking, but another contraction hits — it's not a contraction, it's not a contraction, it's just false alarm — and she scrunches her eyes shut against the pain, stifling a moan.

"We won't make it," Genevieve says. "The baby is coming now."

"No!" she bites out. "It's too soon! It's not time yet!"

"The plan was to hold her until we were ready to make the sacrifice."

"I had to subdue her and the trauma caused a placental disruption. She's gone into labor so the baby is coming now, we'll just have to adapt."

"Let me go!" Caroline manages to get herself free of the guy holding her down again, hitting him on the solar plexus with the shackle. She may not have her magic, but she's still werewolf-strong, and they're out of their minds if they think she'll stop fighting. But then there's another contraction, and her enraged scream turns into a sob as she shakes her head, muttering no, no, no under her breath.

The baby is coming. Her baby is coming. Now.

This can't be happening.

"You need to calm down, Caroline," Genevieve says, like she's being unreasonable.

"Why are you doing this?" she chokes out.

"To be reborn we must sacrifice." Caroline can see her now, the other person talking. It's Monique Deveraux. She knew there was something warped about that girl. Her manic hazel eyes are burning with a mad kind of fervor as she speaks, holding Caroline's hand down so she won't get hit in the face as well.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" she retorts. "Let go of me!" She tries to shake the girl off, but Genevieve uses magic to keep her from moving again.

"The ancestors demand an offering in exchange for power," Genevieve calmly offers.

"And your child will be a fine offering," Monique adds.

Caroline's heart skips a beat, her whole body going cold. "No," she mumbles. "No, please... Please. Don't hurt her. I'll do anything. Kill me, sacrifice me, but please don't take my daughter... Please..." Her voice breaks off into a sob.

"I'm sorry," Genevieve says, crouching down next to her. "But this is the way it has to be."

Caroline throws her head back, releasing an anguished howl. It's a raw, desperate sound, and then it morphs into a painful one as another contraction hits, this one more acute than all the others before. Caroline doesn't stop screaming, doesn't stop thrashing, but she can feel it. The baby is coming.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Klaus is limping his way through the streets of the French Quarter.

He's managed to feed on another poor soul who had the misfortune of running into him. This time, his stomach held. The wound on his hand has closed, though it still throbs, the phantom pain of the cut lingering on. He's still weak, but he can feel his strength slowly starting to trickle in. Dawn is not far, which means the werewolves are no longer under the effect of the full moon.

How the hell did he let this happen? How could he not see it? And not just him. Elijah, too. The two oldest creatures roaming this earth, cheated by a bunch of amateur children. It's pathetic.

He's trying to make his way back to the compound, but the progress has been painfully sluggish, and the longer he takes, the slower his limbs respond, the more frustrated Klaus grows. He's breathing hard through grit teeth, grunting as he pushes through the stabs of pain, his entire body cramping up. It's almost as though he were bloody human again.

And then he hears it.

A sound that stops his heart, that makes him paralyzed in horror, ice cold fear pooling at the base of his spine. The worst sound in the world.

A scream. A desperate, scared and hurt howl that makes every hair on his body stand.

Caroline.

It finds him cold, before the heat hits him will full force, and he explodes in rage, his entire face twisting into an ugly grimace as a feral roar as terrible as the night tears from his chest.

He's dominated by an irrational, inhuman force as the beast inside of him growls into life with a violence and viciousness Klaus hadn't felt in a very long time. His mind throbs, and all he feels is thirst for blood and a desire to inflict pain, his thoughts consumed by one thing only...

He needs to get to her. He needs to find Caroline.

TBC

---

A/N: So... What are your thoughts? I know this finale is very action-packed and super cliffhanger-y, but that's just the way it is. Drop me a comment here, over , or on tumblr! I'm galvanizedfriend there. Getting your messages really makes my day and I have a 30k words chapter to proof-read before I can update this story again. lol Don't have to say that knowing you're interested goes a long way! I put a lot of my time into this and bothered a lot of people, so I really hope you guys enjoy it. And if you do, it really costs you nothing to help make my day a little brighter! :)

Thank you for reading!