The Wolf II

by yokan87

The Guerreras' threat still looms over the Mikaelson house as Caroline tries to adapt to life as a vampire, away from her daughter. But an unexpected family reunion makes everything worse, taking away the little peace Klaus, Caroline and Elijah managed to find after the war that nearly broke them. [It's TO S2, but Caroline was a witch, had Klaus' baby and now she's a vampire]

18. S02E18: Night Has a Thousand Eyes

A/N: Thank you so, so much to those of you who were so kind to leave me a comment on the previous update! As always, this chapter was not beta'ed, so I apologize for any mistakes you might find.

---

And you don't know what you've got until it's gone
And you don't know who to love until you're lost
And you don't know how to feel until the moment's passed
I wish you'd live like you're made of glass

---

When Caroline wakes up to the warmth of sunlight on her skin for the first time in a week, she feels like the universe is sending her a message.

To say things have been tense around the compound ever since Eva Sinclair's attack and posterior demise is an understatement. Not even the sun dared shine its light, the weather echoing the general mood in their household with dark clouds and constant rain. It was fitting, if too depressing.

This morning, when Caroline wakes up to a beautiful blue sky and a heated argument already running amok somewhere in the house, she decides the universe is trying to tell her that she should put the baby in a stroller and go for a walk outside. And since Jackson was around - one half of the altercation ringing loudly across the compound -, she asks him to join her. As far as personal bodyguards go, it can't get much better than a Crescent alpha.

She and Jackson haven't been having much time to catch up lately. He's busy with clan duties in the Bayou, what with all the new people who have joined the Crescents from other packs after the ceremony, while she's been reluctant to leave Eve for any extended periods of time, understandably so. Ever since Eva's attack however, Jackson's trips to the French Quarter are more frequent, though always rather fast and furious.

Instead of sending someone else to discuss the security breach with Klaus, he decided to face the wrath of the hybrid himself. It was a decision both brave and smart. Klaus wouldn't have thought twice before ripping off heads if anybody tried to talk back at him, but he knows Jackson is off limits. Well, all wolves are, but Jackson is especially untouchable, which means he's forced to put a leash on his murderous instincts. Which is not to say fights were any less frequent or milder because of that.

Any vampire within the French Quarter probably heard the colorful and virulent expletives Caroline's significant other directed at the alpha today. Klaus gets hella creative when he's in a mood.

Despite his kind disposition, Jackson does not shy away from a clash, which is fair, because Klaus' claims can often range from unreasonable to outrageous. So far, bless the Lord, they've kept it in the field of words. No punches have been exchanged, no blood has been shed - yet. Caroline is not very optimistic it will stay that way for much longer if they keep down that route. Right now, however, she will gladly take whatever small victory she can get these days.

Her own situation with Klaus is... Weird. They haven't been talking about the really important things, like the fact he's driving himself insane with paranoia. Or how he should listen to what other people have to say instead of dismissing everyone's opinions with a snap just because he thinks they're all ready to collude with his big sister, the most recent fabrication of his unstable brain. Or even how he can't blame the werewolves for everything and spit fire at people who are volunteering to protect their daughter all the goddamn time. Conversing about these matters invariably ends in arguments. Klaus thinks he's always right; Caroline thinks he's a jackass. There is no middle ground, except for one: sex.

Since they can't talk like two civilized adults, they shut each other up the only way that works. As much as she wishes they could have a serious conversation about the big things, she's not about to start complaining. It could be a lot worse, like getting angry without any relief or contact, like they were doing before. A lot of snarling and glaring and blue-balling. At least this way what starts as a squabble ends in an orgasm. Or several. It doesn't fix anything, but she's still orgasming, so.

Whatever victory she can get.

What might explain Klaus' particularly explosive temper this morning, which led to a particularly vicious spat with Jackson, is that last night they couldn't really... Settle the scores, so to speak. They were in the middle of an inspired make out session, already half undressed, when Eve's tiny wail got them disentangling from each other and rushing to the nursery like thunder. She was fine, just fussy, and she remained so for the rest of the night.

Eve is a very calm baby, usually sleeps all through the night, but the pediatrician warned Caroline on their last routine visit that she's teething, and some discomfort was to be expected. Now try telling Klaus that.

"How can you be sure this isn't a hex? Or that she wasn't spooked by an attempted break-in? I should get Davina Claire here."

His complete lack of familiarity when it comes to babies is understandable and also kind of endearing. The fact he's ready to take up arms to defend his daughter in a second is reassuring. But he also seriously needs to chill or else he'll end up driving everyone crazy with him, including the baby.

Eve would stay quietly munching on her pacifier while Caroline or Klaus held her as they paced around the room, but the second they tried to put her down, she'd start crying again. When she finally passed out, dawn was almost breaking and whatever inspiration mommy and daddy had was pretty much dead.

Klaus stayed with her the whole time Eve was awake and tried his hand at calming the baby, but as soon as Caroline dropped in bed with the very intention of catching up on sleep, he placed a kiss on her forehead, wished her a good night and walked out. She was glad he was there for the worst of it, but she has to say, she was a little hurt that he didn't want to stay after. He fulfilled his fatherly duty towards the fussy infant, which was nice, but it's like the only reason he had to stay with her was to get some. As soon as he realized it wasn't happening, he signed off.

Caroline made a note to mention it some other time, too emotionally drained to start an argument just then, knowing that Eve would be up early anyway, so she just rolled onto her side and went to sleep. And when she woke up next, the house was coming down with Klaus' infuriated barks and Jackson's righteous comebacks.

It's not really hard to see how the sun shining bright felt like a small blessing that ought to be fully embraced.

On his part, Jackson was only too happy to leave the compound. Caroline didn't even try to present a defense of Klaus' temper, just straight-out asked him if he'd like to join her. He understood the tacit apology. Please, don't send your wolves away. Don't listen to him, we need you guys here.

As soon as they step out, it's clear she wasn't the only one tempted by the grace of the good weather. The streets are bustling with movement. Caroline had been seeing the world almost exclusively through apocalyptic lenses; she kind of forgot that, outside of the supernatural cluster, life just moves on. It's honestly reinvigorating to get some sense of normalcy and breathe in the lawful chaotic air of the Quarter at its best. It's easy to let it slip that this city is rather fantastic, when it's not trying to kill you.

To get Jackson's mind off of Klaus and the Eva Sinclair clusterfuck, Caroline asks him about more pleasant things he actually likes talking about: the pack. He gladly fills her in on all the new developments she's missed out on. She gets a little pang of guilt over not being more involved; as an honorary Crescent who pledged her allegiance in a formal ceremony, she probably should, but… Well. She's also an honorary Mikaelson. Life, right?

Jackson explains how he's been working with the former alphas who submitted to him in order to make sure the transition runs smoothly. How they're coordinating in order to have eyes and ears spread all over the Louisiana portion of the Bayou and even in other states. How the camp has been slowly going back to normal, and even growing, with new cabins being brought up every day in a semi-orderly fashion. Even Mary has come out of her self-isolation, interacting more with the pack.

Jackson's eyes sparkle as he talks about his people. She hadn't seen him this optimistic and excited since before the bombs. Caroline's genuinely happy for him and the werewolves; at least things are working out well for someone. And Jackson deserves this. He's a great man, a great leader, born to do this. If nothing else, that ritual thing has, at the very least, given him back his fire. It's already worth it. Klaus would disagree. He has, indeed, just this morning. Loudly.

"The guys keep asking when you're going to come by," Jack tells her as they round the block to get back into Royal street.

"Why? I thought they'd be glad they don't have to mingle with the vampire they begrudgingly agreed to follow."

Jackson chuckles. "Well, I didn't say all the guys were asking for you. But some of them are. Since they settled in with us, they've been hearing the full version of the stories. The things you did for the pack. How you helped us break our curse -"

"That was Eve," she points out.

"Eve would've never gotten around to doing it if it wasn't for you, so take some of the damn credit, Caroline," he speaks mildly, grinning.

Caroline rolls her eyes; doesn't argue, but doesn't concede either. Her daughter was named after a Crescent hero and she's not going to take away the glory of Eve's actions by trying to make it about her. She'll go to her grave defending that Eve was the one who got them out of their curse. Whatever hand Caroline had in the process, it was minor compared to everything she did, it barely counts.

"Anyway. They've also heard about how you - you know. Came to be."

She snorts. "That's a funny way to say died."

Caroline doesn't appreciate addressing the fact as though it was some grand big thing that somehow made her a martyr. It was freaking murder, followed by the attempted murder of a newborn. There was nothing grand about it. She survived on a fluke, because of some magical bust-up no one thought was possible. And yet, everywhere she goes, people know exactly who she is. From miracle baby mama to vampire miracle mama. It makes her miss high school, when the name Caroline Forbes meant something to every single person in Mystic High. Big fish in a small pond or whatever, but it meant something. Now she never gets to be just herself. She's Caroline Forbes, comma, the vampire mother. She gets the uniqueness of her situation, but… It's just annoying.

She does, however, make an effort not to hold it against people, at least not the ones she knows mean well. Like Jackson. To the werewolves, the tragedy of her labor makes her something other than a mere vampire. She's... More, somehow. And, well, sometimes people are just gonna get judged on their one-offs, she guesses. Like if you go around separating people's heads from their bodies and then creepily putting it back together, even if your stint doesn't last more than a few years in the grand scheme of your unusually long life, you're bound to get called The Ripper for the rest of your days. If you get murdered in a church giving birth to your impossible tribrid baby meant to be sacrificed, that's probably something that's gonna stick, too.

But can anybody blame her for wanting to move on from that already? It seems like the echoes of that night never stop coming back to haunt her. First it was Esther. Then Finn. Then another psycho child kidnapper. And now Dahlia. Won't it ever freaking end?

Eve seems really drawn to a woman playing some upbeat tune on a violin, so Caroline stops to let her listen to it. The woman notices her cute infant fan and starts playing for them. When she's done, Caroline thanks her and puts some money in her case. As soon as they start walking again, though, the musician starts on a sad and eerie tune that sends a weird shiver up her spine. She narrows her eyes, trying to figure out where the music is from, but it doesn't sound like anything she's ever heard, not even in passing. When she looks back over her shoulder, the musician is staring directly at them with hawk eyes.

"That song," she turns to Jackson. "What is it?"

He shrugs, and Caroline decides to drop it as one of those Quarter eccentricities. They don't make it much further before she realizes a waiter standing in front of a restaurant is also gazing at them with that same ominous stare. He's just written something on the daily menu board. A PROMISE MADE IS A DEBT TO BE PAID.

That's a damn weird message to have on your restaurant's door.

Caroline's getting a really bad feeling about this and is just about to bolt back to the compound when a man comes up to them, holding some beautiful dark flowers out to them.

"Flower, miss?" he asks with a friendly smile. "A gift for the child."

"No, we're all right. Thank you," Jackson says, stepping forward to gently usher the man away, also catching the weird vibe that seems to have settled upon the whole street.

"You sure? Black dahlias are in bloom. They're quite lovely."

Caroline's hands tighten around the stroller, her jaw clenching as she tries to move past the guy and run back to the compound, ready to lift the stroller and take full advantage of her vampire speed. At this point, she couldn't care less if anybody sees her. The man grabs hold of her arm, though, and his eyes become glazed over, his irises paling into white.

She closes her fist to hit him square in the jaw, but someone gets ahead of her, flashing by and holding the man by his throat to peel him away.

Caroline breathes out more relieved when she sees Klaus, although her heart still pounds insanely in her chest.

"Show yourself, witch!" Klaus' voice rings loudly across the street.

That's when she notices something wrong with Jackson. He seems dizzy, swaying on his feet with his head down. When he lifts it back up, his eyes are glassy white as well.

"Klaus!" Caroline screams.

"I am here," Jackson speaks in a cold, empty tune. "I am everywhere. And I intend to take what is mine."

"It's her," Klaus grits out, standing between Caroline and Jackson while she leans protectively over Eve.

Jackson blinks rapidly, grunting as he shakes his head, then his eyes return to normal. "What? What just happened?"

Caroline exchanges a defeated look with Klaus as, all around them, people start walking normally, picking up on their conversations and activities as though they'd never stopped.

"She found us."

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

"What is the bloody point of a fortress? It does a better job of protecting you when you stay within its walls!" Niklaus vociferates at Caroline, mercilessly berating her for taking a mindless stroll outside. As though she needs his cantankerous yelling to feel any guiltier than she already does. It's written all over her face.

She stares blankly at him while he spits fire, offering almost no excuses. Elijah suspects the fact she stepped out in the sole company of Jackson Kenner is at least half the reason why Niklaus is so beside himself. After the home invasion a few days back, he's been more distrustful of werewolves in general than ever, and he has a very particular grouse, drenched in jealousy, against Jackson. If Caroline had asked him to walk with her, he probably wouldn't have said no and wouldn't be lashing out the way he is. But since she forsook his company in favor of Jackson's, well...

"Ok," Caroline replies, dispassionately. "We get it. I screwed up. Can we figure out what the hell we're gonna do now?"

Niklaus grits his teeth like a mad dog, and already Elijah knows nothing good will come out of his mouth. "What I would like to do is take a strong leash -"

"Children, please," he intercedes, cutting off his brother before he can make things worse. "Niklaus, your ire is perfectly justified. However, Caroline is quite right." She purses her lips, making a what did I say? gesture with her hand. "We need to find a new strategy. Freya, if you please..." He motions for his older sister to take over.

After the incident outside, an emergency family meeting was called, and they all gathered in the dining room to hear Freya's verdict. If anyone will know exactly what happened and why, it's her. But before she could even say anything, Niklaus just started yapping about how irresponsible and outrageous it is to take Eve outside in the sole company of a useless, weakling bog pet who can't even protect himself from a possession by a witch who wasn't even in the premises. His words.

While he poured the foul contents of his heart out, Freya started preparing a concoction of some sort. He takes it that will be a lot more useful than Klaus' opinions.

"This spell you described," she starts, finally getting a breach to speak as she pours her mixture into five teacups. "Dahlia calls it kenning, using proxies to watch her enemies from afar, but I've never seen it done on quite this scale."

"Awesome," Caroline grumbles. "So basically, every hurricane-chugging, boob-flashing tourist on Bourbon Street is a potential spy."

"The good news is, I know a little about how her magic works. This tonic will at least prevent her from using any of us."

Freya puts the tray down in front of them, and Rebekah wastes no time before taking one of the cups. Caroline and Elijah just watch, both of them equally suspicious, while Niklaus turns his back and stalks off to the back of the room.

"Well, come on," Rebekah prods. "Should work like a charm. Bottoms up." She drinks the whole thing at once and then smiles.

Elijah sits down beside Caroline and takes two cups, pushing one in front of her. He then takes a third one and puts it out for his unusually quiet brother. As unpalatable as he is with his mouth open, it's usually his silences that are most worrisome.

"Niklaus, is there something you wish to contribute?"

He turns back to them, shrugging and pursing his lips. "I prefer biscuits with my tea."

"Of course," Elijah says flatly as he puts the cup down.

"Besides, our minds are far too strong to be invaded by kenning spells." There's some logic to what he says, but Elijah decides not to toy around with possibilities, sipping from his tea. If the child's father decides to stay vulnerable to mind control, then he'll be alone in it. With a defiant look on her face, eyes trained on Klaus, Caroline drinks from her cup as though doing it just to spite him. His eyes flash, but he doesn't remark on it. "So what we experienced was a test. Dahlia's watching to see how we respond to aggression. She's preparing for battle. My guess is sooner rather than later," he offers, rather soundly for a change.

"If she was watching us, she would know that we have an entire army around us," Caroline argues.

"And what great impression she must have of that army if their alpha can be so easily overtaken," he bites out.

"She also knows where we are, and, given the immense nature of her power, we simply have no idea what to expect from her," Elijah elaborates. "What we need is to create a new stronghold, something that Dahlia knows nothing about, a sanctuary from any witchcraft, where her influence will be null."

"That's a fine strategy. I offer another," Freya says. "We could use Jackson to trace her magic back to its source, find out exactly where she is."

Caroline makes a displeased face. She looks up at Klaus, who's grinning expectantly at her, arching his eyebrows as though daring her to say no to Freya's suggestion. His brother really should take some lessons on basic human interaction. His life would be made so much easier if he would only not make himself out to be such a cretin whenever the opportunity presents itself to him.

"Fine," Caroline grumbles. "Do it."

"Good! Then it's settled," Klaus says with a caustic brand of cheer. "Off you pop to your respective tasks. Me, I've always been of the opinion that the best defense is a good offense. So I'm gonna find a way to murder that godforsaken witch." He punctuates his sentence with a dimpled smile, miles away from the grumpy shrills of just a few minutes ago.

"Nothing lifts your mood quite like the idea of murder," Caroline remarks bitterly as she pushes off the table. "Good to know you've got your priorities sorted. I'll go talk to Jackson." She stalks off, the angry sounds of her boots stomping the old wooden floorboards resonating loudly in her wake.

"You're doing a fantastic job at alienating the mother of your child at such a critical moment, Niklaus. By all means, keep it up," Elijah says blandly.

"How is that my fault? She gives our daughter to one of Marcel's riffraff -"

"Gia," he corrects with a sharp look. "She has a name."

His brother just ignores him. "And then offers herself up for sacrifice -"

"She was merely trying to distract them.".

"And now she goes for a lovely stroll across the French Quarter with the ever valiant Jackson while she knows very well that we're being targeted. And yet, somehow, I'm always the one in the wrong."

Elijah lets out a deeply wounded exhale. "Rebekah, do you mind?"

Rebekah stands up to her feet. "You're annoying and controlling and obsessive and it won't be long before Caroline decides to give you a good smacking and I, for one, would love to be there to see it." Rebekah grins at Niklaus' indignant look, whips around and leaves.

"Does that clarify things for you, brother?" he asks as he, too, pushes off the table, buttoning up his jacket. "If you'll excuse me, I have more important things to do than try to explain common sense to you. Sister," he nods at Freya and then leaves to take care of his plan, only feeling mildly guilty that Freya has been the one left to handle Klaus' pouts.

She's new. She needs to learn what they've been putting up with for a thousand years.

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

Klaus sees Davina sitting on a bench, arms and legs crossed impatiently as she waits for him. He smiles and waves, trying to be as cordial as he possibly can towards someone who would probably put a dagger through his heart if she thought it would stick. Davina huffs out in disgust and turns her face away.

Well, he tried.

They don't need to be friends; they just need to work together. Under normal circumstances, Klaus would absolutely loathe the idea of putting his trust in the hands of someone with such glaring hatred towards him, but he's come to learn that, sometimes, it's best to know one's enemies' true feelings than to live under false pretenses. After getting betrayed left and right and paying the highest possible prices, he's come to admire how Davina makes no mystery of how much she can't stand him. At least they know it's mutual, so they can work from there.

He has something she desperately wants; he needs something from her. That's the perfect combination of factors and the only one he needs right now.

It wasn't even hard to strike a bargain with Kol's little witch. She's been stuck on her attempts at finding a resurrection spell to rescue his little brother from the depths of the underworld. It so happens that he is in possession of an ingredient that might help her make great progress: Kol's ashes. His true ashes, from when he was vanquished in Mystic Falls. Davina's eyes widened when he told her that. She's never even seen Kol's face, has no idea what his brother looked like. However attracted she might've been to his Kaleb exterior, the temptation to have him back as he was is too great, even for someone with as much harbored bitterness towards him as young Davina.

All she needs to do to get her hands on this lovely treat is help Klaus track down Mikael and bring him back to New Orleans. Quite simple. Freya let it slip to them weeks ago that she's dispatched him to collect certain vital ingredients to forge a weapon that can kill Dahlia, and Klaus believes that, for once in over a thousand years, he and his father might be able to reach a mutual understanding on the best way to proceed regarding this weapon. He intends to hijack Freya's idea and finish Dahlia off himself - today, if possible. The wench is in town, he can tell.

According to Davina, Mikael should be on his way right now. He was already done retrieving these mysterious items, just waiting for Freya to call him back, but Davina's message got him most interested indeed, and so he anticipated his sad return to the Crescent City to hear what the witch had to offer.

Klaus can already picture his disappointment when he realizes that it's really his little bastard behind this summoning. There are very few things he fancies more than upsetting dear old dad.

While they wait, however, he has an important phone call to make.

Aiden picks up on the fifth ring. Usually, when he calls, people tend to answer posthaste. Unless it's Caroline and she's mad at him, which happens quite often, actually. She has a terrible habit of giving him the cold shoulder when he allegedly gets on her nerves - her words, not his. He would disagree with that assessment, of course. In his family, however, people take phone calls even when they're not speaking. When they don't, it spells trouble. Caroline should know the messages she's sending with her tantrums.

He wonders what Aiden was doing... Josh, perhaps.

"Yeah?" he says, a little breathless.

Klaus smirks, but he has no time for taunting. "Aiden, it seems your big, bad alpha has been compromised."

"What? What happened?"

"Relax, mate. Jackson is fine. He's just offered further proof of his general inadequacy. I can't trust him to guard Eve at the moment, so while my hands are full, won't you be a dear and serve as my eyes and ears at the compound? Report back anything I should know, especially where my daughter and her mother are concerned."

"Uhm... Yeah. Sure thing. On my way."

The response is less than enthusiastic, but Klaus trusts him to, at the very least, not be lying. If he was, indeed, in the company of his lover, Klaus can even understand his hesitation. He knows only too well what it's like to be pulled out of enjoyable activities in favor of dull missions that other people should be perfectly capable of doing but, in surprisingly incompetent turn of events, aren't.

"Good lad," he says, putting down his phone as he walks back to Davina, taking a seat beside her on the bench.

"So what's the deal?" she asks dispassionately. "Aiden at your beck and call now?"

"I'm simply mentoring a promising young wolf."

"Josh isn't gonna be too happy when he finds out about your mentorship."

"And I am shaking in my boots at the mere thought of his displeasure," he says, voice dripping irony as he fixes her with a look. "You see, Davina, Josh and Aiden are in love, which means they both have something to lose, thus making them all too easily manipulated - should the need arise." He grins, a bit too proud of himself.

Davina shakes her head pitifully. "It must really suck to be you all the time."

His smile falters, he looks away from her. "It hasn't been a picnic, honestly," he concurs somewhat grudgingly.

"You know, the thing is, you have that now, too, don't you? Someone you love more than anything, even yourself. Well, two someones, actually. How does that feel? To be one of us, someone with something to lose?" she asks acidly, taking pleasure on the expression she certainly sees on his face.

That, right there, has been the source of all of Klaus' recent woes: learning how to live as someone with something to lose. It hadn't been the case for him in over a century, and even before that, he hadn't really contemplated the idea of losing that which was precious to him until he actually lost it, thus vowing to never again allow his stupid heart to take control of his better judgment. Obviously, he's failed miserably.

And Davina is right yet again: he doesn't just have one thing, he has two, both terribly fragile, even with their magical constitutions. One of them too young to be able to protect herself, the other too foolishly brave for her own good. Caroline is just as fierce as him when it comes to protecting the ones she cares about; the issue is that her list is far lengthier than Klaus'. While he would only ever risk himself for the sake of his family, she would do it for half the bloody innocent people of New Orleans. That's a problem, and a big one.

Klaus is only now getting to learn how agonizing it is to love someone so much he can't bear to watch them suffer. With his siblings, it was different. Their relationship is a most violent one, full of thorns. They've always hurt each other. With Caroline and his daughter... Klaus is constantly walking on eggshells, and he simply lacks the necessary subtlety not to stomp all over everything.

So what does it feel like to be someone with something to lose, she asks?

Torture. It's sheer torture.

"Klaus, there," Davina says, poking him and pointing to a taxi that stopped across the street from where they are. Mikael steps out of it like he's a fine gentleman, perfectly equipped with the skills to live in society. That's laughable; the man has the darkest parts of Klaus' temper and none of his charm.

In a blink, Klaus has flashed over to him, shutting the car door for the other man. "Hello, father," he greets with a mild grin.

An ugly smirk creeps up Mikael's horribly thin lips. "Well, well, well... If it isn't the bastard himself. Have come looking for another beating, boy?"

"As much as I'd love to kill you again, I wonder if our interests might be better served by joining forces." Mikael raises his eyebrows at him, a befuddled expression on his face that Klaus would find amusing if he had any kind of warm feelings towards that man. "You know full well the threat we face, so... How about it, father?" he stresses the last word, spitting it out dressed in customary venom. "Care to join your bastard son on a witch hunt?"

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

Caroline feels a sharp stab of remorse when she sees Jackson cutting a miserable figure in their living room, sitting all by himself, with his elbows propped on his knees and his head hanging low. The grim expression on his face leaves no doubt as to how distressed he is over the possession incident. It just breaks her heart.

He was so excited, telling her about the camp and the wolves, and then bam. Less than a day around Mikaelsons and he's made to feel as sad and dreary as the rest of them. She feels guilty for having asked him to walk with her. Should've just let him go back to his duties in the Bayou, where he's not only safer, but also definitely happier. This city cuts to his flesh just as it has cut to hers, and she can't help but feel bad when she sees him like this.

"Hey," she says quietly as she walks in. "You ok?"

He leans back against his seat, his face all hard lines. "That witch got in my head. I could've hurt you. Hurt the baby."

"It was not your fault, Jack. If you ask Klaus, after putting up with twenty minutes of gratuitous insults, he'll tell you we shouldn't even have gone out in the first place, and he's being a jackass about this, but he's right. We made ourselves vulnerable. I made us vulnerable."

"It's not fair for you to not even be able to go outside because some maniac wants to kill your child."

"You just about summed up my entire life here in New Orleans." She smiles sadly, taking a seat on an armchair beside his. "Here. Drink this. Freya said it'll keep Dahlia from getting in again."

He takes the teacup from her hands and takes a long drink. "I could feel her, Caroline. She's nothing but darkness." Jackson looks up at her, a flicker of determination crossing his eyes. "I have an idea. We can take Eve and the pack and leave town tonight.

"We can't just run from our home, Jack."

"You just said it yourself, this place has been trying to get you murdered since the day you arrived here. Is this what you call a home? And running isn't a sign of weakness. It's what wolves do. What we've had to do throughout time to survive." He shuffles forward in his seat, looking Caroline dead in the eye. "I know every inch of the Bayou. Out there, we're the predator. We can keep your daughter safe. At the very least, it'll buy us some time to get rid of Dahlia for good."

The way he talks, it sounds like this idea isn't something that just occurred to him now, but rather like something he's been giving a proper thought for a while. He seems to be forgetting a crucial part, though...

"Klaus will never agree to this," she says.

"Then ditch Klaus! He didn't make Eve by himself, you're her mother. You should have a say on this."

"And he's her father. I know Klaus has been acting crazy lately -"

"Crazy? Caroline, he's not sane or reasonable on a good day. He's completely lost his mind now."

Caroline clamps her mouth shut as she tries to come up with an appropriate reply. She understands Jackson's frustration, and can even see the merit of his idea. In a worst-case scenario situation, it might very well be their only option. But it's insane to think that she would ever do something like that without Klaus' consent. They may be awful at communicating, but their parenting has been working fine so far.

"I know you're thinking about the best for her, and I can't thank you enough, Jack, for everything you're doing for my daughter. But I can't run from Klaus. I wouldn't. I won't."

"I don't back out of a fight, Caroline," he says solemnly. "But this one started a thousand years ago. It's not your war. And it certainly ain't your daughter's."

"I'm angry all the time, Jackson, over some wicked witch coming out of God knows where to take my child because her psychotic grandmother made a bargain a thousand years ago. You have no idea. But this is my war. If someone tries to take my daughter from me, they're making it my war. Klaus didn't make the kid on his own, but neither did I."

Caroline pauses, looking down at her own hands, recalling a conversation she had ages ago, back when she was still a scared pregnant witch with no idea what to do with herself. "I once told Klaus that if I ever thought he was a danger to our daughter, he would never see us again. Right now, I'd say he is a danger to himself more than to anyone else. Everything he's doing, as misguided and wrong as it might be - and I'll be the first to call him out on his bullshit - is to keep her safe. If he were an absent father with ulterior motives, I wouldn't think twice, but he's not, and you know that. He may be acting like a lunatic, but that's because he's driving himself sick with worry."

Caroline puts a hand on Jackson's arm and gives him a squeeze, smiling softly at her friend. "I appreciate you so much, Jack, I hope you know that. And I understand if you don't want to stay. You're right, this is not your war. You don't have to put yourself or your pack in danger for us. Finn was a common enemy to us all; this, Dahlia, is not what you signed up for. So, really, I won't hold it against you at all if you decide to take your guys and go back to the Bayou. But I'm staying put. This is my family now. Klaus is my family. I'm not leaving him."

Jackson still has a pinch between his eyebrows when he looks at her, something very displeased about the set of his lips, but his voice sounds soft when he says, "You're a part of my pack now, too, Caroline. So is your daughter. And we don't abandon our own."

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

Not in his wildest nightmares did Klaus ever envision himself going to a bloody café with Mikael. How so very pedestrian. Grabbing a coffee with his father.

Obviously, the situation begs for something stronger, but he doesn't want to take Mikael to Rousseau's. He'd rather keep the man's dirty paws away from his favorite haunt. Besides, too many prying eyes - namely, Camille's. The information would spread like wildfire and it would be a second before he had his entire family swarming after him.

They can enjoy the pain of as mild a thing as coffee for the time being. And anyway, Klaus doesn't think this conversation will take too long. They'll either have a deal or they won't. In case the answer is negative, things are prone to get ugly hastily. He's come prepared, just in case.

"You want fries with that stake?" a waitress quips as she stops by their table to take their orders, nodding towards the white oak stake, which Klaus has placed right in front of him on the table. He laughs - it was a fine joke - and the young woman smiles at him. "I bought one of my own at Marie Laveau's voodoo shop."

"I'll have a coffee, please, sweetheart," he says, affably. "No sugar."

"Gotcha," she says with a wink, turning to Mikael then.

"Nothing," he growls. "Leave us."

The woman arches her brows and then scurries away, probably reading - correctly - the malicious intent in the old man's eyes.

"No need to take it out on the staff. She was just trying to earn some honest tips," Klaus teases.

"Am I to take lectures from you on social skills? Ridiculous," he grinds out, looking out the window beside them. It is ironic, Klaus will give him that, especially since he has been in an awful mood lately. But if there's one thing he's always been is a generous tipper, especially to people who serve him well and don't ask questions. Camille is proof of that. "I despise this city."

"Then let us cut to the chase, shall we?" Klaus says, getting into business mode. "Your precious Freya told me she sent you off to procure certain items that will expedite the death of your sister-in-law. May I assume you completed the task?"

Mikael bares his teeth in a terrible smirk. "There are three elements total. Combined, they represent Dahlia's sole weakness. If you'd like to try and take them, by all means, have at it."

Klaus clicks his tongue disapprovingly. "Your mind always drifts to violence, doesn't it? Even when you're so clearly outmatched. What was it you once tried teaching us? Ah, yes." He makes a mock-serious face at his father, copying Mikael's atrocious tone of voice. "The true Viking warrior hones his fear like a blade."

Mikael's eyes flash. "Did you come here to critique my parenting skills or to whine about how little you were loved? I tried my best at teaching you, but you were too weak to learn. You were weak then, and you are weaker now."

Klaus props his elbows on the table, picking up the stake and presenting it to Mikael. "If you truly thought me weak, you would snatch this weapon from my hand." He can almost see the wheels turning in Mikael's head as he looks down at the stake, considering. But then his eyes snap back up, his face still perfectly blank but for a minor twitch on the corner of his lips. Mikael is a good many things, most of them awful, but he is not stupid.

"You won't, will you? Because you know better." He puts the stake back inside his jacket. "I suggest we focus on our common enemy. Rather than bringing your materials to Freya, drawing her into a fight she may not survive, why not join me? If we win, both of our daughters will be free, you'll be reunited with yours and I'll keep mine safe. If we lose..." Klaus shrugs, his lips curling into a smile. "Well, at least you die knowing the bastard finally got his due."

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

"What do you mean, she's gone?" Elijah demands, not fully able to comprehend what Caroline and Rebekah are telling him.

Although comprehend is not exactly the word. He comprehends quite well. He just refuses to accept it.

While he went back to Algiers to discuss the details of his plan with the involved parties, Rebekah and Caroline were left in charge of aiding Freya in combing through Jackson's mind to find the source of Dahlia's kenning spell. Jackson was very cooperative; him, too, interested in getting to the bottom of this as quickly as possible. But whilst Freya channeled Rebekah, she was able to sense Dahlia's power, and how their aunt had been channeling Freya herself.

Their sister is the source of their aunt's great power. Or so says Rebekah.

Freya claimed not to know anything about it and that Dahlia was merely trying to pit them against each other, isolate Freya from her family in order to weaken their plight, but Rebekah and Caroline were having none of it. Caroline was particularly insistent that she should leave, protective of her friends as she is.

Elijah can understand their concern; to think that all this time Dahlia had been using Freya to locate them and gain direct access to their home and their plans and how exactly they've been protecting Eve is... A lot. But Freya is still their one connection to Dahlia - not to mention their sister. If she says she was being used, Elijah would be at the very least willing to grant her the benefit of the doubt. They didn't act any better than Niklaus.

"She was a risk," Caroline provides simply.

"She is also the one person who intimately understands the enemy we now face," he counters.

"She was bringing Dahlia directly to us, Elijah. To Eve."

"She had no idea she was being used in such a manner, you said it yourself," Elijah points out in a sharp tone. "Do you think it is correct to exile someone in such circumstances? Dismiss them as an enemy when she might've been just as distressed over it as yourself?"

"That doesn't change anything!" Caroline exclaims heatedly. "She was still a hazard to my daughter. What if Dahlia had ways to control her like she did Jackson?"

"Both of you, just stop it," Rebekah steps forward, trying to keep the argument from escalating, but Caroline simply keeps going.

"I was protecting my daughter against someone who is obvious none of us can completely trust."

"Correct. We've done nothing but doubt Freya since she first arrived. Nevertheless, she kept her promises and she saved your lives. We certainly haven't demonstrated the same kindness towards her."

"So what do we do now?" Rebekah asks, having the decency to appear guilty. Caroline, however, still shoots daggers at him, firm in her convictions.

"There is a jazz club in Algiers by the name of St. James' Infirmary. Marcel has acquired it and Josephine is fortifying it as a sanctuary against magic. Pack your things," he tells Caroline. "Marcel will escort you and Eve there tonight at 8 o'clock."

Caroline's expression smooths in outrageous disbelief before she crinkles her brow and purses her lips. "Congratulations, Elijah. You're doing a great job of filling in Klaus' controlling shoes while he's not here."

"I am merely trying to keep you safe."

"Even the excuse is the same," she sneers. "Where is he, by the way?"

"Niklaus is doing... Whatever Niklaus is doing."

Huffing, Caroline grumbles as she marches out the door. "Great. Just freaking great."

"What about me?" Rebekah asks in a small voice.

"You wait here with me."

"What for?"

"If Freya should return, we'll be here," he replies, fixing her under a hard look. "Whether or not we trust her, Rebekah, we cannot win this fight without her. It'll be good for all of you to understand that sooner rather than later."

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

"This is it," Davina says as she draws a salt circle on the ground. "One last favor, and if you don't give me his ashes, I swear I will -"

"Davina, whatever you may think of me, I'm a man of my word," Klaus says, pacing about while she prepares her spell.

"Actually," Mikael starts as he joins them, having left briefly to retrieve the three items. "He's a liar, a beast and a degenerate, but in this exceptional instance, he may be of some use."

Klaus rolls his eyes lazily. "Oh, good. You're back."

He wasn't entirely sure that he would be, in all truth. It was never clear whether he'd accepted Klaus' proposal or not, but the lack of physical altercation implied that he did. Klaus told him where to go with the ingredients he'd collected for Freya and never heard a yes or no. He's mildly surprised that Mikael decided to come, after all - and also, maybe a bit... chafed. For once, he wanted Mikael to show up, but the fact he did confirms something else that makes Klaus quite prickly, for whatever reason: he seems to genuinely care for Freya.

The fact he's willing to partner with the bastard he despises above everything else in order to protect his eldest daughter is... Disconcerting. Mikael would've never done that for any of his other children, not even his real ones, and not even before they were turned into bloodsucking monsters. If any of them got hurt, he'd berate them for being weak, punish them by leaving them to fend for themselves in the woods all night. Sometimes, he'd hurt them himself. But Freya... Freya he'll fight for. For Freya he'll even go to battle side by side with Klaus.

How so very touching.

"Dahlia's minions are gathered within St. Anne's church," Mikael says. "I followed them."

"Clearly, it's a trap."

"Of course it's a trap," he bites back. "And how good is it that we bring surprises of our own?"

Klaus' lips break into a smirk. However tempted he might be to just drive the stake inside his jacket through that man's heart, there's something to be said about collaborating with someone with a mind as warped as his own. It takes an incredibly great degree of malice and anger to get there; it's not every day one runs into someone that free with their violent impulses.

"Wait," Davina says, staring at them like she can't quite believe what she sees before her. "So you two are friends now?"

"Absolutely not," Klaus states with intent. "We're merely aligned out of necessity for the purpose we both enjoy most... Glorious murder." Davina shakes her head like they're both crazy when they grin at each other. "And here's where you come in, sweetheart. You'll be helping."

"You said you needed a binding spell."

"And here, my lovely little witch, is what you will bind." Mikael crouches down before her, putting the ingredients in front of Davina. To her credit, she doesn't even flinch at his proximity, showing no fear at all. Klaus would be proud, if he actually liked her. "Soil from Dahlia's homeland, that which links her to this mortal coil. Along with Viking ash, that of her oppressors, the source of her immense hatred. And finally, the blood of her adopted child, my beloved daughter Freya, the closest thing to love that miserable witch has ever known."

"All the sources of her power bound together form a weakness," Davina chants like something she learned out of a school book. "So what do you want me to do with this?"

"Simple. Bind those ingredients to a weapon," Klaus says.

"Am I supposed to go to the toy store and get a slingshot?" she bites out.

Mikael fishes a hunting knife out of his leather jacket and hands it over to Davina, hilt first. "Use this."

"You just wouldn't be you if you didn't walk around carrying a knife, would you?" Klaus sneers. "This is the XXI century, Mikael. That sort of thing is frowned upon nowadays."

"Well, perhaps you can steal it later and dull it's blade with your art."

Klaus barks out a laugh and then checks himself. Temporary partnership, fine. Laughing at the old man's acidic quips - that's going too far, even if it sounds remarkably like a commentary he would make himself.

"Do us this favor," he says, turning to Davina. "Help us end this evil witch's reign, and I will live up to my end of our bargain. I swear it on my life."

Davina twists her lips. "Not worth a lot to me, but... I hope you know what you're doing."

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

Rebekah hears a commotion in the courtyard and pokes her head out to see the battalion of wolves that Jackson has called upon to guard Caroline and Eve after this morning's incident in an uproar. Already her mind starts to imagine the worst, but as she flies down the stairs, heart beating in the back of her throat, she sees it's Freya.

"Let her through," Rebekah commands, letting out a relieved breath - both because it's not Dahlia, and because her sister has returned.

She was feeling all sorts of guilty after asking her to leave. Caroline was yelling for her to get away from Jackson, eying Freya like she was the devil impersonated, and Rebekah didn't know what else to do, herself filled with doubts over her sister's intentions. She doesn't want to say that she was influenced by Caroline's reaction, but she might as well have been, which - Elijah is right - is in no way an excuse.

Rebekah can understand why Caroline would be all shades of frantic; the girl has got a history with people coming into their home and stabbing her in the back. With her daughter upstairs, and after getting rounded by an entire street of people possessed by Dahlia's magic, she was understandably worked up, being overprotective of her child and her friend. But Rebekah should've known better.

She doesn't really know Freya that well, but she feels as though she always has. It's the strangest sensation, maybe something in their blood - or maybe not the blood, since she's currently occupying someone else's body. Maybe something deeper still; like a connection of souls. Elijah's felt it too, she can tell. Unlike her, however, he's chosen to listen to his instincts, telling him to trust her.

Freya has busted her ass off some serious trouble twice now. The only reason it's Rebekah here now and not Eva Sinclair is because Freya risked her own neck to get her back from the depths of that woman's mind prison. Rebekah should've trusted her guts instead of that feeble evidence, taken Freya away from Caroline and figured out what to do. Freya was just as scared as the rest of them, just as disgruntled over the possibility of having carried Dahlia directly into their home. Instead of taking care of her as she would've any of her brothers, Rebekah told her to go away.

That's not what their family is about, and Freya is one of them. Mikaelsons stick together, even when they want to tear at each other's throats, through thick and thin. Always and Forever.

"I'm actually glad you're here," she says as the wolves part for Rebekah to walk to her sister. She seems shaken, her eyes wide with fear.

"Freya," Elijah says softly, striding towards them as well.

"I saw her," Freya says. "Dahlia. She intends to make her move tonight. Klaus and our father will be her next victims."

"Our father?" Rebekah asks. "He's here?" Freya nods in confirmation.

"And you have returned to warn the very people who would cast you out," Elijah says curtly, pinning Rebekah under a stern glare.

She holds her head down, shifting awkwardly.

"I understand Klaus' mistrust, as I do yours, but I did not come this far to see my family die at the hands of the very evil that I've tried for so long to escape." Freya's voice breaks at the edges, her eyes brimming with tears. "I'm begging you, help me save them."

Elijah doesn't even blink. "Tell me what you need."

"Dahlia will lure them into a trap."

"Where?" Rebekah asks.

"She prefers places of darkness. She'll be drawn to any site that's been steeped in death."

She snorts. "Welcome to New Orleans."

"No, I'm talking about... Dark power created by massacre, sacred ground that's been stained in the blood of the innocent."

Rebekah looks at Elijah and knows instantly that he's thinking the exact same thing.

"How about a church where a mother was murdered after being forced to give birth to her baby for a sacrifice?"

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

Going back to St. Anne's church always sets a vertiginous shudder at the pit of Klaus' stomach. When he pushes the door open and sees that altar before him, memories of Caroline's dead body lying there instantly flash through his mind. He can almost smell the blood.

This place will forever be the home of the worst hours of Klaus' life. This ground is steeped in his shame. His raw howls still rattle across these walls. He never felt pain like what he felt that night. It doesn't matter how much time passes, this will always be the place where Klaus lost... everything. The light of his life. His daughter. The last shreds of his humanity. Not even getting it all back can erase what that night did to him. And it shouldn't. That kind of trauma should never go away; it must linger, so that he can be reminded of his own mistakes, never to repeat them.

In a manner, it's good that Dahlia has chosen this place to set her trap. It provides a sharp clarity of just what exactly he is fighting for. What he must prevent at all costs.

Klaus keeps the barbed depths of his emotions firmly restrained as they walk in, slowing making their way into that temple of death. The sound of their booted steps echoes loudly across the walls. The place is completely deserted.

"Well?" his voice booms into the silence. "What are you waiting for, you crone?"

"Now that you have arrived, not a thing."

Klaus and Mikael whip around at once to see a woman up on the altar that had been empty just a second before. She smiles calmly at them with her dark beaded eyes, hands clasped before her. The same woman he saw in Freya's vision, the one who took her away from Esther when she was but a child. She looks older, but not by much.

It's not exactly what Klaus was expecting. He isn't entirely sure what he was expecting, but... A more imposing figure, perhaps. A godly presence. After everything he's heard so far about this woman, he thought he'd be taken aback by her sheer presence. Instead, Dahlia just looks... Normal. Almost to the point of unremarkable. She exudes darkness just like Esther, but she lacks his mother's beauty. Perhaps that is the source of all her bitterness, then. Envy, so often the cause of discord within families.

"Let us begin, then," she announces devoid of any emotion, lifting her hands to invoke a gust of wind that shuts the church doors behind them at the same time dozens of her acolytes start flooding in, coming from all sides. There must be at least a hundred of them, if not more. He and Mikael are completely surrounded.

Now he finally has something to get the blood pumping in his veins, at last.

Mikael laughs. "We are well met. Are you ready?"

"I was born ready," Klaus rumbles, his beast rising to the surface as he lets out his fangs and claws.

In a beat, all the acolytes launch at them. As anyone who's met him could've predicted, it's a carnage. Turns out he and Mikael are quite the formidable pair in battle, dancing as though to music as they move around in a perfect circle with men and women coming at them nonstop.

It's a little hard to take notice of anything else with so much action demanding his attention, but Klaus glances over at the altar every once in a while. Dahlia hasn't moved an inch, just watching with cold detachment as they murder her cult followers one after the other in the most vicious ways, slashing throats, ripping off hearts, lacerating veins and - Klaus' favorite - decapitating.

Turns out even massive slaughters can get boring after a while. They're many, but not particularly skilled, even though some of them know how to throw a punch and there's strength in numbers. Klaus just finishes them off one after the other, Mikael doing the exact same right behind him. He takes the opportunity to sink his teeth into a few necks, have a snack, replenish some of the energy he's wasting on these worthless puppets when he should be fighting their master.

It takes forever, but at last they seem to finish the lot of them. Klaus takes his time feeding longer from the last one before he drops the body to the ground. There are so many it's hard to even walk.

He's a royal mess, covered in blood from head to toe, but he wipes the worst of it off his face as he and Mikael jump over the bodies to stand before Dahlia, that same infuriating empty smile on her face.

She claps her hands unenthusiastically. "Quite the operatic performance, gentlemen, though that is the thing with the grand tragedies. In the end... All the heroes die."

With barely a flick of her wrist, Dahlia holds both of them in place. Klaus grunts, straining to move forward, but he's not in control of his own body anymore. Dahlia closes her fingers, and Klaus starts choking on the very air, as though his lungs were suddenly filled with water and he cannot breathe. His vision swims before him, he feels himself growing weaker, his struggle but a meek attempt at survival, his body suddenly hit with a terrible cold. He's desiccating. Dahlia is stealing all the blood from him, pulverizing it.

"You struggle with such passion," she says, mock-mournfully. "All in defense of the ones you love. An honorable quality, one which I had not anticipated, given the reputation which precedes you. Still..."

She lets him drop to the ground, freeing him from her mystical binds, but he's too weak to even hold himself up, barely a drop of blood left in him. Whatever strength he has left, however, Klaus gathers it at his core, putting an effort to reach the enchanted knife, which Mikael had dropped when Dahlia started choking them. He grinds his teeth, snarling furiously as he crawls towards it, stretching out his arm as far as it will go. Just as he finally closes his hands around the hilt and attempts to stand up, Dahlia says, humorously, "A bit too little... too late, my dear."

She waves her hand in front of him and sends him flying across the church. Klaus hits the railings on the second floor violently, his bones cracking and bending, his skull exploding in excruciating pain, and then everything goes dark.

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

"Wait here," Freya says, holding Elijah's wrist just as they're about to go into St. Anne's church.

There's no doubt that, whatever is going on inside, it is not going well for Niklaus. His brother was growling, a feral sound that thrums right through Elijah's bones, awakening the most primal of protective instincts in him. He wants to rush inside, defend his brother, even if he has made a complete idiot of himself with this ridiculous scheme of his. What in hell's name was he thinking, aligning himself with their father and going, just the two of them, to face Dahlia without even a word about it to anyone else?

He looks a question at his sister. What else does she need to be convinced of the urgency of the situation?

"I'll go first," she explains. "I'll keep Dahlia's attention on me, you go in after, but quietly. See to Niklaus."

He gives her a stiff nod and stands back as she goes in, the heavy church doors slamming closed once more.

"Enough!" Freya screams.

"My darling Freya," speaks another female voice in a nonchalant manner. "You do realize that this so-called family of yours is simply using you for your power. Still you'd want to protect them?"

"No," Freya barks. Even from behind the door, Elijah can hear the fury simmering beneath her words. Listening to her now, to the choke of emotion in her voice, it's shocking that they'd ever doubt Freya's intentions. Her hatred for Dahlia is palpable. "You're the one who used me for a thousand years. No more!"

"So be it."

There's a pause, and then Freya lets out a strangled scream. Elijah decides to wait no more and slips inside as quietly as he can. Dahlia is distracted, with her back turned, her hand stretched out before her as Freya struggles to breathe, eyes bulging in sheer despair as she claws at her neck.

He spots Niklaus out cold, fallen a few feet away. Further ahead, Mikael has a makeshift stake, made out of a piece of broken bench, in his hands, his teeth bared in a terrible grimace as he leaps towards Dahlia with a roar of sheer anguish. It's like nothing Elijah remembers ever hearing coming from this man.

"Step away from my daughter!" he screams.

Mikael drives the stake right through Dahlia's back, but she does no more than sputter, releasing her grip on Freya. She casts Mikael off with a wave of her hand, stumbling to the altar as she pulls the stake out.

Elijah flashes over to Klaus and bites on his wrist, dripping his blood into his brother's mouth. It takes him a moment, but, slowly, he starts to come to, the color returning to his face as he grabs onto Elijah's wrist to drink more. When he's fully awake, Elijah helps him up, searching his still confused eyes. "You ok, brother?"

Niklaus swallows, but nods his head.

"Don't you know I'm too powerful to kill?" Dahlia hisses at them, her eyes ablaze.

Elijah attempts to make a move, but she stops him before he even has a chance, sending him crashing onto the wooden benches on the back of the church. The force of the impact knocks the wind off his lungs, his vision darkening completely. Still he attempts to lift himself off the ground, rolling onto his stomach and scrambling to get to his feet.

When he finally recovers somewhat, he sees Niklaus gripping a knife tightly in his hand and then lunging at Dahlia. Right before he plunges the knife into her, however, she simply... Vanishes. Out of thin air. As though she were a ghost. Klaus crashes onto the altar, but recovers fast, rising to his feet in an instant, searching for his knife.

"We all have weaknesses," Dahlia's voice rings through the church. She's now materialized at the back, near the door, clutching the knife in her hands. "You came here united, hoping to exploit mine, and in doing so, you lost the one thing that you could've used against me." She gives the weapon an assessing look. "The weapon you created... Now rendered useless." She throws the knife on a pyre lit by candles. It catches fire as though it were made of straw and then it's gone.

"NO!" Freya screams as Mikael holds her back so she won't stalk off towards Dahlia.

Elijah blinks at his brother, a grim, vitriolic look on his face, trying to understand exactly what happened here. Freya said she'd sent Mikael to procure the items she needed in order to destroy Dahlia. Now, suddenly, Niklaus shows up with Mikael, in possession of a certain weapon, walking straight into the witch's trap when they'd been trying to avoid confrontation at all costs until they figured out a way to either vanquish her for good, or keep Eve definitively out of her reach.

Niklaus and Mikael joined forces to go behind Freya's back, steal the ingredients, forge the weapon themselves... And then they failed.

If Elijah wasn't witnessing it with his very eyes, he would laugh at the sheer absurdity of it.

"Now that we've dismissed with that little trinket, perhaps we can focus on the issue at hand," Dahlia continues, completely unruffled, an impassive expression on her face. "I seek only that which is owed to me, nothing more. Give me the child, and you all may live. Deny me and, well... You've had a taste of my power. I can't imagine you hunger for more. I will start by killing that which you love most." Her eyes settle on Niklaus, glittering with malice. "The mother does not have to suffer for your mistakes."

With that, she is gone.

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

"That sounds like a bloody fiasco," Rebekah is saying as she walks out of the ballroom with Elijah.

He was filling her in on everything that happened at the church, while Klaus couldn't really be bothered. He was desperate for a drink - and even more desperate for blood. That crone nearly drained him whole. Two blood bags and he's still not satiated. Might have to step out for a bit of a live snack. Good thing Caroline is not around to berate him - better yet that she is somewhere safe, where magic cannot touch her or Eve.

If Dahlia thinks she can threaten Caroline and walk freely she hasn't done her homework before climbing out of hell.

Still, however motivated by anger he might be, he'd rather keep Caroline and their child away from the compound and, in fact, out of the streets of the French Quarter. At least while they tick off this newest threat on their list. If it depends on him, it won't be long at all.

"Where's Dahlia now?" Rebekah asks.

"She could be anywhere. There wasn't a trace of her left at the church," Elijah says.

Klaus lifts his glass up to his lips, taking a long drag. While he attempts to dull the worst of his dented ego with alcohol, he's also trying hard to ignore the fact that both Freya and Mikael are under his roof right now. It's hard to climb down from the heights of anger with that man in his house. How long does he have to wait before their truce is officially terminated so they can properly return to tearing at each other's throats?

"She's done with us for the night." Klaus can feel Freya's eyes boring holes on his back as she talks, voice dripping with venom. "No doubt she wants us to take some time to wallow in our defeat."

"Defeat?" he retorts, calmly putting down his glass before turning to face his family - well, some of them are, anyway. "I disagree. We saw her face, we took her measure. If that's the best she's got, quite frankly, I'm unimpressed."

"Her aim was not to impress us. She wanted us to reveal our sole weapon and, like fools, we did," Mikael spits at him.

"Am I hearing things, or did Nik just exchange words with our father?" Rebekah mutters to Elijah.

"Rebekah," Mikael grins awfully at her. "I'd know that wicked tongue anywhere. What mischief have you gotten yourself into now? No doubt the bastard's doing."

"Enough," Klaus says evenly. "My patience, like this farce of a reunion, is at an end."

"Agreed. There really is one question here," Elijah offers, stepping forward, ever the conflict solver. "What exactly are we doing now?"

"This was not my plan!" Freya lashes out, her voice escalating as she finally abandons resorting to shallow provocations for admitting the full range of her frustrations. If she intends to live as a Mikaelson, she needs to pick up on a thing or two on the fine art of passive-aggressiveness. She so lacks the subtlety. "You rushed it and made but a single weapon. Of course she took it from you! And now we've lost what advantage we had and used up the very materials we needed to kill her!"

"It's a bit histrionic," Klaus says flippantly. "Your materials are easily found. Let's take stock, shall we? There's an ample supply of your blood. Norwegian soil is hardly scarce. What else... Ah, yes. The ashes of Dahlia's Viking oppressors."

"Only priceless relics acquired with great difficulty at a museum, lost due to your worthless strategies!" Mikael hisses furiously at him.

And that's about the moment when Klaus finally snaps, his temper flaring hot at the sound of his father's vitriolic attack. In a blur, he has Mikael up against the wall, the white oak stake aimed at his heart. The tip breaks into his flesh as Klaus pushes it in. The old man gasps in torturing pain, his body shuddering under Klaus' hands. Freya lets out a desperate howl.

"If I feel even the faintest touch of your magic, Freya, I will end him with a flick of my wrist," he admonishes, looking deeply into Mikael's eyes.

For a thousand years that man populated every single one of Klaus' worst nightmares, real and imaginary ones alike. Those eyes, full of poison and darkness, never had anything but hatred and contempt in them whenever he looked at him, even as a child.

Mikael used to terrify him. The strongest creature on earth, and he would shake at the thought of facing his very own Viking oppressor. That is no longer the case. Now all Klaus feels is... Pain. All the pain he's ever caused him, amplified and rushing through him like an electric discharge, setting Klaus' insides on a fire that consumes him completely.

"You don't seem surprised," he says at Mikael's lack of reaction at his sudden strike.

"Betrayal is in your blood, boy," Mikael replies with ease and customary disdain.

Klaus' face contorts with anger. "No," he grinds out. "I wasn't born like this. Her, you fight for. Lovely Freya... The daughter you barely know. Yet there was a time when you knew me as your son. A time before all the disappointments, the revelations of betrayal. There were moments when all you had to do was be my father! And even then you despised me, didn't you?! I want to know why."

Klaus hates the edge of his own voice, how it unravels at the end, how much hurt it carries. He doesn't want to feel this way about the man who shaped all of the darkest, most warped corners of his soul, but it's almost inevitable. For a thousand years he believed that Mikael was incapable of love. The way he treated every one of them, how he despised his own children, even if Klaus was always at the center of all his vitriol. There wasn't a single inch of that man that was capable of affection. And yet, when he looks at Freya... Klaus almost sees himself, the way he looks at his own daughter, the impossible, irrational love he feels for Eve.

How can that man, who's done nothing but terrorize his children, care for someone so truly? And if he can, why wouldn't he? Why didn't he just... love them?

"I don't know," Mikael says above a whisper, with a hint of sadness that pierces through Klaus' heart. "I just did."

Klaus lifts his chin, looking at his maker in every way that counts dead in the eye. "Are those your final words?"

Mikael's eyes wander away from him, and when he meets the object of all his affection, his expression turns… soft. Apologetic. Full of regret. "Freya... I'm so sorry. I love yo-"

Klaus pushes the stake into his heart, stealing away the mercy of uttering these words. He does not deserve them.

Mikael gasps, his lips parting not in fear or in horror, but as though he wants to say something as he lifts a hand, reaching out for Klaus. His bastard son simply steps back and lets him tumble to the ground, desiccating before his body erupts into eternal flames, sending him back to the place he should've never left.

Freya screams behind him, each howl more painful than the last, her voice breaking as she tries to reach for her dear father, but Elijah holds her back.

Klaus turns to her, not at all touched by her despair. He ignores the looks of reproach in Elijah and Rebekah's faces. The two of them are getting so soft for Freya that they will now cry over the man who terrorized them for a millennium.

"Viking ash is indeed rare," Klaus tells her. "But all you really need is a burning Viking corpse."

Freya tries to lash at him as he walks by her, but Elijah restrains her.

It doesn't seem like Klaus will find any warm feelings at his own home this evening, and Freya's pathetic wailing is burning through the last bit of tolerance he still has for her. He has to step out into the night, maybe compel the bartender at Rousseau's to leave the bar open so he will have somewhere quieter and far less ridden with judgment to celebrate murdering his father for the second time. That's a pleasure not many get to experience in a lifetime, he reckons. Let alone two. It ought to be properly observed.

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

Elijah says he doesn't know where Klaus stalked off to when he abandoned the scene of his latest murder, as always leaving the consequences of his impulsive actions, in the form of a desperate Freya, for his siblings to deal with. Caroline doesn't even have to think, though. There's only one place Klaus would've gone to after events of such magnitude.

The closest place to get shit-faced drunk.

She was supposed to stay quarantined at St. James' Infirmary with Eve - as Elijah made sure to remind her by quoting Dahlia's threat word by word. Needless to say, she doesn't heed the advice.

Eve is asleep, Jackson is with her and there is a battalion of werewolves surrounding the place. If Dahlia attempts to trespass, it's the last thing she'll do in her life. Her magic will be rendered null and void, making her an easy prey for one particularly testy wolf who's still not over the fact she got inside his head. Her baby will be fine tonight.

The dad, on the other hand...

Caroline sighs heavily as she looks through the stained glass on the door of Rousseau's and finds Klaus' blurry, lonely figure sitting by the bar.

There's so much in this whole story she wants to yell at him about... Hijacking Freya's spell without ever really figuring out what she was going to do with it. Asking Mikael to tag along with him, the two of them marching into a suicide mission against Dahlia. Not telling a single person about what he intended to do, like they hadn't been through this before. It goes on and on…

There are about a thousand ways Klaus could've ended up dead tonight and Caroline wouldn't even know he'd been in danger until after the fact. He was reckless and selfish and just plain stupid and Caroline wants to slap him across the face as many times as it takes for him to understand that he can't fucking do that to her.

She won't, though. She will bite her tongue and keep all the chiding and the slapping and the yelling for some other time. Any idiot can see how crushed Klaus is. When Elijah told her he'd asked Mikael why he'd never loved them - never loved him - the way he obviously cared for Freya... Well, that is something she can relate to. It was one of the last things she ever asked her father, right before he died. She didn't kill him, he was turned into the thing he hated the most - after his own incompetent child - and refused to complete transition. What Bill did to her is not even a millionth of the terror and violence Mikael put Klaus through, but if there's one thing Caroline understands is how much it hurts to be hated by someone you can't help but love.

She pushes the door open, slipping into the cloud of misery hovering inside the bar tonight. It's almost closing time, only the straggler drunkards behind. She doubts Klaus intends to leave any time soon, though. The late-shift bartenders at Rousseau's pray for Klaus' crappy nights. They make hundreds and hundreds in tips out of keeping the bar open just so he can mope by himself. Caroline doesn't want to take their bread-winner from them, has all the respect in the world for people in the service area, but she really hopes they get some other rich sad bastard to fill their tips jar soon. This one has gotta stop doing that.

Klaus doesn't even look at her as she slips into the stool right beside him. "You shouldn't be here," he mutters dispassionately into his glass.

"Neither should you. But if the mountain won't come to Muhammad..."

He empties his glass with a long gulp, putting it down with an annoyed thud. "Go on, then," he says crossly. "Have your piece. Yell at me for ruining our chance to kill Dahlia. For killing Freya's precious father right before her eyes. Berate me for my heartlessness and inhumanity, Caroline, and be done with it. I've frankly had my share for the evening and you have to go back to the Infirmary."

She tilts her head. "Is that what you think I came here to do? I would be the last person to scold you for killing Mikael. You should know that."

"Then what is it that you want, if not to chastise me?"

"What do I want?" Caroline parrots, stung. "Do you really have to ask? I've come to see how you are, Klaus. I worry about you." Klaus stays quiet, his eyes firmly set on his glass as he turns and turns it with the tips of his fingers. "You've been treating me like I'm against you."

"Well, aren't you? You don't listen to what I say. You have Jackson Kenner following you around wherever you go."

"You asked the wolves to stand guard at the compound and then to follow me to Marcel's jazz club."

"I never asked for him to be your personal bodyguard."

"You didn't have to. We're bonded by an ancient mystical ritual, in case that's slipped your mind."

"Yes, well, I'm sure you're having a blast."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she demands, slamming her hand down in front of him to force him to meet her gaze, leveling him with a hard look. "My daughter's being hunted by your crazy aunt because of some stupid bargain your mother made a thousand years ago. I can't even go out on the street anymore, I can't stay at my own home, I've been transferred to a freaking jazz club like I'm some valuable inmate and my -" Caroline snaps her mouth shut, eyes flickering away from Klaus, to the glassed wall behind the bar, then back. "You won't even talk to me. We're supposed to be a team, Klaus. We can't be a team if you don't trust me."

"And how am I supposed to trust you? Hmm? When you sell yourself out to crazed, bloodthirsty witches while my brother's latest fling runs off with our child."

"It was a matter of logic," Caroline says in a clipped, annoyed tone. How many times is she going to have this fight? "Gia wouldn't have lasted a second against them, so our daughter's best chance to be taken as far away as possible from Eva Sinclair's grasp was if I stayed behind to buy them as much time as I could. I didn't mean to die or get captured."

"But you did," Klaus snarls. "And you could've died. Again. I can't trust you if you're going to be throwing yourself to your death without a second thought. That is precisely what I'm trying to prevent."

"You need to realize that I will die to save our daughter - and don't start barking at me, you would do the same thing. But I don't want to die. That is the key detail that you seem to keep missing. I will do everything in my power to stay alive and watch my daughter grow up. But you treating me like that fact means I'm not on your side, that no one is, is not helping anyone, least of all you. It's you against the world."

"Yes, well, " he pouts grumpily, facing away from her. "It's what it feels like, more often than not."

"You're wrong, Klaus. This is the paranoia talking. You push everyone away, you isolate yourself, go on crazy quests without sending even a little warning to anyone about what you're doing, like we're all just hindering you. You wanna talk about suicidal? You took the white oak stake with you while you went on a witch hunt with Mikael. He could've turned on you at any moment, just like you turned on him. And then what?"

"And then the bastard would've been done for and everyone would've been better off for it!" he roars back at her.

"Oh, shut up!" Caroline demands sharply, bitter hurt flaring into pure anger. "Don't give me that crap. You can use that poor bastard bullshit on your siblings, but not on me. That's selfish and borderline disrespectful to the people who care about you." Klaus' jaw clenches, only the faintest trace of guilt flashing through his darkened eyes. When he's in that kind of destructive mood, nothing removes him of these ideas. So she plows on. "This might come as a surprise to you, but loving someone and being loved in return is not just rainbows and unicorns and mind-blowing orgasms. Newsflash: it comes with a price. You're not alone anymore, Klaus. You have a daughter and you have me. You can't make me fall in love with you and then pick and choose when and where you're gonna want me. I'm not here just for some of the time, just when it's convenient. If all you want to do is fuck me, and then for me to shut up and never weigh in on anything you do, then this isn't love, and you should make that clear right now, otherwise we're just wasting our time."

He moves so quickly Caroline doesn't even see it. Suddenly, Klaus is upon her, his hands on her face, a touch that is filled with need but still gentle. "I love you so much that the mere thought of having anything happen to you again kills me, Caroline. It's a torment far worse than having a white oak splinter brushing against my heart. All I want is to finish Dahlia so that we can be together with our daughter, safe," he speaks lowly, his voice shaking with the fierceness of his intent. "All I do is for her and for you. I cannot be without you, Caroline, and I will not lose you again. Do you not understand? Are you not listening when I keep telling you this? I don't care what I have to do, who I have to kill; they are not taking you away from me again."

Caroline feels as some of the fight bleeds out of her, leaving her empty and tired. She touches her forehead to his, closing her eyes and taking slow, measured breaths. Her nostrils fill with the smell of alcohol, blood and sadness. And Klaus. Underneath all that, she captures his scent, like he taught her how to do all those months ago. She learned his scent. This fragrance that isn't like anything, but it's so very him. It soothes her, even in the stormiest of weathers, in a sea of misery and uncertainty. It touches her heart, thrums through her veins and it calms her down like a drug.

She puts a hand under his chin and kisses him. Klaus kisses her back not with his customary hunger, and not like he's angry either. It's soft and longing and deliberate. And with so much need. For a second, everything slows down to a stop. There's no threat, no Dahlia, no Mikael; just them and the way they feel. When they break apart, however, reality quickly catches up.

Klaus hesitates to let her pull away, keeping a hand on her neck, his raspberry lips parted as though in a silent plea. He lets his shield down, all the bitterness and aggression dissipating, and suddenly all Caroline can see is the heartbreak. She combs a hand gently through his hair, then slides down the side of his face and neck.

"We all want the same thing," she says. "But I don't want to lose in the process, Klaus. And right now I feel like I'm already halfway there."

She pulls him into a quick embrace, kissing him on the cheek before she stands up. "I have to go back to Eve. Don't drink the whole bar. Go home. Sleep."

Caroline smiles wanly at him and then forces herself to look away, or else she'll never be able to walk out into the night and back to St. James' Infirmary. Away from him.

TBC

---

The lyrics at the beginning are from 5AM by Amber Run, the song I have in mind for the final scene between Klaus and Caroline at the bar. Adds great mood, if you'd like something to listen to while reading. :)

So this chapter is a bit of a bridge chapter and fillery in terms of KC, I guess, but it has many important developments plot-wise, so I couldn't just skip it altogether. I'd still very much like to hear your thoughts! Your comments from last chapter really motivated to try and work a bit faster on this update (not by much 😅 but I also have a paying job that needs attention every now and then, so).

For those of you who were concerned about Caroline's position regarding Klaus when the whole showdown begins, I think this chapter started to give some clarity. :) It was also relevant to explain the mind-frame of many of the characters for the coming events - Klaus', Freya's and Elijah's, in particular. Next chapter is when shit finally hits the fan.

And thanks so much for reading! :)