A/N Welcome back to day six of our adventure. Thank you to those of you who've read and shared your thoughts. I'm glad everyone was relieved to see that Caroline decided to let Klaus live. Now, she has to decide what to do about Rebekah. Let me know what you think of the decision she makes! (No concrit please)

Chapter Six – Confession

"You can't legislate into existence an act of forgiveness and a true confession; those are mysteries of the human heart, and they occur between one individual and another individual, not a panel of judges sitting asking questions, trying to test your truth." - Athol Fugard

Twenty-three hours was too long to be conscious. After lying to Logan about Rebekah's involvement in Stefan's murder, lying to him again about her flight being delayed didn't seem like that big a deal. Caroline was exhausted after getting back to her hotel around 2:00 AM. She fell into a dead sleep but was plagued with nightmares about what she'd done and what she was yet to decide. She caught a flight out at noon and arrived in Manhattan a few hours later. The only stop she made between the airport and Rebekah's studio apartment was Starbucks for an emergency triple latte. She chugged it down as fast as she could, the burn in her throat a good distraction from the far worse ache in her chest as she agonized about her decision.

Inhaling and exhaling to steady herself, Caroline raised her hand to knock on Rebekah's door. It opened almost immediately. "Agent Forbes," the youngest Mikaelson greeted with a slight nod of her head.

"You know who I am?"

Rebekah's lips curved up in a sad smile as she opened the door all the way, gesturing for her guest to come inside. "I may not have spoken to any of my brothers in many years, but I did follow Nik's trial."

Caroline nodded as she walked in, taking a look around at the modest furnishings. Her furniture was tasteful and well coordinated but obviously inexpensive, and the studio was so small she barely had room to turn around. It reminded her of Father Kieran's place and it helped put her slightly more at ease. Klaus was right about his sister; she lived a modest life and helped people rather than flitting about the country living off money tainted by fraud and embezzlement. "You don't seem surprised that I'm here," she observed shrewdly, eyeing the other woman up and down.

Rebekah took a seat on a small sofa, gesturing for the agent to take one in the recliner across from her, a small coffee table between them. "I do watch the news, Agent."

"You can call me Caroline." The thought of her official title made bile rise in her throat, stomach turning yet again.

The youngest Mikaelson smiled softly at that. "Caroline, then. I know my brother was granted a stay of execution. I work with the legal system, too. It's not uncommon for such a thing to reopen an investigation. It makes sense that you would show up on my doorstep eventually." She sighed, crossing one leg elegantly over the other and folding her hands in her lap. "I don't think there's much I can tell you, but I'm sure you'll have questions anyway." She flashed a practiced smile and the agent mused that it was one she'd probably perfected after years of hiding the truth.

"Actually, I have something to show you," Caroline corrected her, reaching down into her messenger bag and pulling out a manila folder.

Rebekah tilted her head to the side and watched curiously as she flipped through the case file. Her fake smile fell off her face when an printed photograph of Klaus in the toll booth was set down on the coffee table facing her. Her expression revealed only a brief moment of worry before she forced it back into one of blank indifference. "What's this?"

Caroline breathed out through her nostrils, watching the other woman carefully, cataloging every minute twitch of the muscles in her face. "It's a copy of the document you sent to the FBI."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she lied, but the way she nodded her head subconsciously despite her verbal denial told the agent all she needed to know. "I've never seen this before in my life."

"Yeah, you have," the agent stated plainly. "You've been holding onto it for fifteen years, the entire time hoping you would never have to use it. But when it came down to the wire, you couldn't let your brother die for a crime you committed."

"My brother confessed," she replied, as though she'd said it a thousand times and could almost make herself believe he'd really done it.

"He did." Nodding her head, Caroline sat back in her chair as her mind struggled to form coherent thoughts. "But we both know he only did it for the same reason you turned in this photograph." Rebekah didn't have a response for that; she averted her eyes, unable to tell one more lie. "He loves you more than his own life. I went to him with this evidence last night and he begged me to let him die to save you, evidence you sent because you love him, too."

When she replied, her voice sounded so small. "You spoke to Nik?"

"I did," she confirmed quietly, nodding. "He told me what you did. And he told me why you did it."

Rebekah's cerulean eyes snapped up to meet hers, breath audibly catching in her chest. Despite her work with victims, it was obvious to Caroline that she'd never spoken about her own abuse. Her heart raced in her chest as her eyes began to water, although she blinked a few times to try and stop the inevitable. "And how did you respond?"

This time, it was Caroline's turn to look away. The air between them was thick with tension as they each wrestled with the decisions that led them to this moment. The agent pulled her messy curls down from her bun and exhaled in a whoosh as she ran her fingers through her now oily hair, something she always did when she was anxious. Looking back at her, she simply shrugged with one shoulder and shook her head, guilt coursing through her. "I told my boss you were likely the blonde in the photograph that proved your brother's innocence. I'm here to corroborate his alibi. And yours."

Rebekah sucked in a deep breath, heart racing in her chest as her hands clenched, jaw tightening. "You did what?" she whispered, the sound of blood rushing through her veins pounding in her ears.

"He didn't do it," the agent said quietly. "I couldn't let him die for a crime he didn't commit. And neither could you."

Finally letting her tears spill, Rebekah covered her mouth with her hand and completely broke down. As sobs wracked her chest, Caroline reflected that it was probably the first time she'd ever really let go. She'd spent a lot of times with victims of violent crimes and as the other woman sat across from her shattering, a victim was all she could see. She had no doubt that Rebekah Mikaelson was a murderer, and murderers belonged in prison. Murder was a terrible thing. People who did terrible things were just terrible people. Good people did not terrible things. But as she processed everything she'd learned, she finally began to understand. Not everything was as black and white as she'd always believed. Klaus took the blame out of love for his sister and was willing to die to protect her. In turn, she saved him in the eleventh hour because she loved him more than herself. There was morality and then there was love.

Love was the exception to every rule.

Caroline watched silently until Rebekah cried the blue out of her eyes, chest heaving as she was doubled over struggling to draw in deep gulps of air. More than an hour past before she finally composed herself enough to speak, her voice hoarse and broken. "I didn't mean to," she whispered shakily. Looking up, her face was puffy, nose runny and eyes bloodshot. "I stole the gun from one of Nik's shipments and went to Stefan's-" she closed her eyes and swallowed hard at the name- "because I wanted him to confess to what he did to me. But he just laughed and said no one would believe a socialite whore over a Congressman's brother." Her chest began to heave again and more tears streamed down her face. "I was sixteen!" she choked out angrily, fists clenching in her hair. "I was a virgin and he… he…" Burying her face in her hands, she shook her head violently back and forth, unable to say the words.

"I know," Caroline finished for her, finally leaning forward to take her hand. "And I believe you."

Rebekah squeezed it tightly in a way that reminded the agent of her brother, unable to let go as she clung to it like a small child lost at sea. She looked up and her eyes were glassy and tortured. "And I am so, so sorry." She inhaled a shuddering breath, swallowing hard. "I didn't mean to do it! He told me I would never use it, but since I was there he may as well…" Her sobs returned and Caroline knew she was reliving a horrifying memory that had haunted her for 15 years. "He came toward me and the next I knew, the gun was going off and I just kept pulling it until all it did was click." With barely any tears left to cry, she doubled over and dry heaved for a long while before she could speak again. "I have spent everyday since trying to make up for it, but it's just never enough. No matter how hard I try to be good, my brother still rots in prison for what I did and Stefan remains six feet underground."

Caroline felt her own eyes prickle, their hands still clasped tightly together. "You knew the investigation would lead back to you if you sent the photograph."

"Yes," she replied, nodding her head. "And if I have to go to prison so my brother can go free, I'm willing to do that." Hanging her head, she added in a whisper more to herself than to the agent, "It's what I deserve."

Letting go of her hand, Caroline sat back in her seat, mulling things over. The more she thought about it, the more exhausting it all became. And there were still questions left unanswered. "Rebekah, if you had this all this time, why didn't you come forward sooner?"

The other woman looked up at her with sad, watery eyes full of remorse and self-hatred. "Nik begged me not to."

The surprise was all over the agent's face. "You've spoken to him?"

Rebekah nodded her head, wiping at her eyes. "He gets a lot of fain mail, you know." Caroline snorted and rolled her eyes, drawing out a watery laugh from the youngest Mikaelson. "After I came back from the clinic upstate, I used to go sit in his apartment, working up the courage to turn myself in. And then one day, I was going through his mail and there was this letter from the toll people. That was the first time I wrote him. I opened up a P. O. Box and we've been using it ever since. I always use different names for myself, but the address is the same. I told him I had it and he asked me to send it to him, so I did." Her eyes started leaking all over again as her voice cracked miserably. "But I sent only the first page." She inhaled a shuddering break and tried to steady herself but lost the battle with her own guilt and doubled over again, sobbing hysterically.

Caroline waited until the volume of her breakdown subsided before speaking softly again. "You knew he was going to get rid of it."

Rebekah frantically nodded her head, looking up with bloodshot eyes and blonde tendrils stuck to her face as mascara ran from her eyes all the way down to her chin. "You have to understand, Caroline, I love my brother… but he can be such a stubborn ass!" The agent literally had to bite her tongue to keep herself in check, sarcasm desperately trying to escape her lips. "When he didn't use it to free himself, I knew he was never going to. He insisted Elijah had some tricks up his sleeve and he was soon to be released. So, we kept writing back and forth."

Wiping her eyes, she got to her feet and retreated to her tiny bedroom. She emerged a minute later with a lovely box covered in pink pastel roses faded over time. Pulling off the lid, she set it on the coffee table between them. It was full of hundreds of letters, all to the same address but all with different names, and all labeled with a stamp that they'd come from a correctional facility. Taking a random letter from the pile, she opened it up and set it in front of her guest. "He always starts and ends them the same way," she said as she pointed with a chipped finger nail she probably couldn't afford to have manicured regularly.

Caroline read the words at the top of the page aloud. "To my biggest fan." Each ended with, "Make good choices so you don't end up where I am. Love, Niklaus."

"You see?" Rebekah sniffled. "He never wanted anyone to know the truth, not even our siblings. When I called him about what happened that day, he rushed back from Boston. He told me that if anything happened to him not to tell anyone anything and that he would take care of it. When he was convicted, I threatened to tell Elijah and Nik swore he would never talk to me again." She inhaled another shuddering breath, choking back another sob. "And he pointed out that he was the one caught with the body and would have to go to prison for that, anyway, so it made no sense for us both to go."

"That's why you cut off the rest of your family," the agent pieced together. "You couldn't handle the guilt."

Nodding her head, more tears fell down her cheeks. "Yes. It broke me to do it, but I just couldn't keep seeing their faces knowing what I'd done, and that Nik was suffering for it. Even after he received the death sentence, he just kept insisting he would get out of it, that Elijah had it all worked out and not to say anything. And then his final appeal was denied. I told him I had to come forward and he wrote back, 'I will love you to the grave and back. Don't do anything stupid.' And then… then the letters stopped."

She broke down again and Caroline had to look away, heart breaking for the woman in front of her. Long minutes dragged by as snow fell outside her window and landed gently on an old, rusty fire escape. She inhaled a deep breath and sighed. "And that's when you sent this to the FBI." Rebekah nodded tearfully. "You know that by telling me all this, you could very well take his place on death row."

"Yes," she choked out in a hoarse whisper. "But I don't care anymore. I can't let my brother die for something I did. So, if you have to arrest me, I'll go quietly. I'm ready."

There it was. Caroline had her confession. She could arrest Rebekah right away and Klaus would be exonerated on the murder charge and eventually released. What did a promise to a man on death row mean anyway? She would have stayed true to the letter of the law and could go back to her normal routine of putting terrible people behind bars. The problem was, Rebekah wasn't a terrible person, and neither was her brother. There was no evidence to back up her story about what really happened. A jury might believe her and recommend a lighter sentencing, but after lying for fifteen years and letting her brother take the fall, she very well could spend the rest of her life behind bars even with the best legal team Elijah Mikaelson could buy, assuming she'd even let him. And hadn't Klaus been right about prisons being meant to reform criminals, life sentences reserved only for those who posed such a great risk to society that they were too dangerous to ever be set free? But the youngest Mikaelson was no danger to anyone now. She'd used her time to make the world a better place for those she served, people just like her. Did she even need to be reformed, or would sending her away simply be for vengeance over justice?

No matter how hard Caroline tried to rationalize it, she couldn't reconcile the punishment Rebekah would receive with what she'd already endured.

Inhaling a deep breath, the agent muttered to herself, "Kyrie, eléison." The other woman looked up at her curiously, their eyes slowly meeting. "I seem to have forgotten my recorder, so I'll need to bring you down to my office for an official statement about that photograph," she began slowly, trying to keep her voice even and professional. "As of right now, the FBI officially believes you were in Boston with your brother at the time of the shooting. If you refuse to make a statement, you'll be charged with obstruction." Rebekah's eyes widened, heart leaping to her throat. "The photo will be enhanced and if it turns out you weren't the woman in the front seat, the investigation will turn to the only other person whose DNA was in that apartment."

"Mine," she whispered, blood pulsing in her ears.

"Hypothetically speaking, if a warrant was issued for your arrest on the murder charge, but it turned out you'd fled the city, it would certainly appear to the courts as an admission of guilt. There would be enough reasonable doubt to overturn your brother's murder conviction even without you going to trial." Rebekah was still as stone as she struggled to process what she was hearing. Caroline gathered up her case file and tucked it back in her messenger back. Getting to her feet, she looked down at the other woman and added, "Without a warrant, I can't compel you to come to the office with me now. So, I'll be back with one tomorrow and I'll need that statement about your alibis, and anything else you still have to say for the official record. As a federal agent, I have to tell you to stay in town. Whatever you do, don't flee to a country far, far beyond the reach of extradition." Nodding her head at the other blonde, they shared a knowing glance for a brief moment before the agent turned on her heel and walked out of the apartment, closing the door behind her.

For the first time in fifteen years, Rebekah picked up the phone and called her brother, Elijah. He was too furious to speak, but Mikaelsons stood together, always and forever. She was halfway to Indonesia before Caroline came back with the warrant.