A/N: A shout out to the always awesome coveredinthecolors for helping shape this into a better read. Still, you will find several mistakes that are entirely my own. For that, I apologize!
Thank you very much to everyone who has been reading this story and for all your kind reviews and messages. :) It means the world to me and really helps me keep going with this monster of a fic. Your feedback is always VERY much appreciated, so please, let me know your thoughts! :)
Rebekah eyes her brother suspiciously, marveling at the apparent change in him. The grim, pitifully drunk man from yesterday seems to have vanished with the night.
She doesn't allow herself to be fooled by his high spirits, though. Rebekah has lived with Nik long enough to know that it's precisely when he looks the most harmless that one has most cause for concern. When he doesn't mean to bite he's all bark. But when he's preparing to strike — well, you never see it coming.
Sometimes she wonders if their mother really did lay with a werewolf or if Klaus is actually the child of a snake. A really venomous one.
She didn't see him leave last night, but somehow he showed up with a girl this morning. Rebekah has no idea if she spent the night here, or if Nik just brought her in for breakfast. Some strange loyalty instinct inside of her makes her hope it's the latter, for Caroline's sake. Personally, she thinks that girl would be better off getting over her brother, but it's obvious to anyone that the two idiots still have a lot of unresolved feelings for one another — well, obvious to anyone but the two of them, that is.
She'd say she hopes her brother isn't the kind of wanker who leaves the girl he knocked up stranded in the Bayou and brings someone else home, but, to be honest, that wouldn't even be the worst thing Nik did this week.
"I thought Caroline said no more live food," she says as he bites into the girl's arm and fills a cup with her blood. She doesn't even flinch, compelled beyond salvation.
"I don't see Caroline anywhere, do you?" he replies dryly." Would you like some?"
"No, thank you. I've drank from a bag."
"Your loss. She is deliciously fresh." He shrugs, sipping from his cup as he sits down, licking his lips.
"I'm not cleaning it up, just so you know. You're gonna have to explain yourself to Caroline when she comes home."
A muscle twitches on his jaw, his eyes flashing for just the briefest of seconds. Too fast for her to identify it, but enough for her to be sure that this apparent tranquility is all but a mask.
Rebekah knows this as the calm before the storm.
"Have you spoken to our good friend Marcel today?" he inquires.
"No. Should I have?"
"Well, he's been mysteriously silent. Avoiding me, some might say. I thought, perhaps, he may have whispered reasons into your ear, along with all those sweet nothings. I know you two have been getting cozy." His smile is full of dimples.
Rebekah smiles back, certain that it does not meet the murder in her eyes in the least. "If I see him, I'll be sure to ask if he's still sore at you."
He sighs, putting down his cup. "Let me give voice to that look in your eyes. 'My saintly, noble brother lies writhing in agony in the Bayou, victim of my bastard brother's bite when just one or two drops of his blood would ease his pain.'"
It's exactly what Rebekah's thinking, minus the bastard part, but she merely shrugs nonchalantly. "On the contrary, Nik. I am simply enjoying my brekkie, waiting for Elijah's healthy return."
"Oh, come on, Rebekah. You've been giving me the devil's eye all morning. Out with it."
"Are you sure you want to hear it? Because the truth is I'm concerned that if I voice my opinion about what you did to Elijah, I will end up on the wrong side of your toxic hybrid teeth."
"Poppycock. I would never bite you," he says, pointing at her. Rebekah scoffs. "Elijah made some very offensive accusations about my intentions towards my child. He deserves a day or two of discomfort."
"And your way of proving him wrong was to leave your child's pregnant mother stranded in the Bayou with him."
He looks away, pretending to busy himself with a toast. "I never told her she had to stay there. It was her choice." He keeps his voice even, but she can hear all the sharp edges of his resentment.
Rebekah shakes her head. "For someone who claims to be as smart as you, Nik, you can sure be completely clueless."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you might actually get what you want and push Caroline and Elijah together with your paranoia. And it'll be no one's fault but your own."
He narrows his eyes at her just a tad, his lips pursing. "Careful, sister. I won't bite you, but you know my preferred method of punishment for your indiscretions is the dagger."
Rebekah feels her blood boiling inside her veins. She stands up, leaning over the table to breathe hot in her brother's face as she says, "There is something fundamentally wrong with you."
Her appetite suddenly gone, Rebekah leaves Niklaus to his compelled snack and stalks out. In moments like this, she has to wonder whether Elijah isn't crazy as well, for thinking there's any hope for someone like Klaus.
She's going to see Marcel, all right. But not for the reason he thinks.
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Elijah comes to with a loud gasp.
For the past so many hours, he's been falling in and out of consciousness. It took a lot longer than Caroline remembers with other vampires, but the poison must be reaching its peak action in his system. If Elijah wasn't an Original, he'd be long dead by now. On the other hand, though, his suffering is being painfully drawn-out.
Sometimes he knows where he is and what's happening, sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes he recognizes her, sometimes he calls her Celeste. It's made Caroline curious. Whoever this Celeste person is, Elijah clearly has very fond memories of her: the way his eyes soften, full of tenderness, when he thinks she's the one he's talking to. Too bad she doesn't know a word of French, because she has no idea what he's saying. It sounds very loving, though — and also extremely intimate, so maybe it's for the best that she can't understand him.
This time, when his eyes become focused again and he finally sees her, he says, "Caroline".
"Hey," she smiles, sitting down next to him with a mug in her hand. "Here. Drink this."
"What is it?"
"Just some herbs I found nearby. The stove is working, surprisingly, so I made a kind of tea. It's not really effective against werewolf bite, but it's supposed to help you feel more comfortable."
With some effort, he manages to lift his head. Caroline helps by taking the mug to his lips. But as soon as he takes his first gulp, Elijah starts coughing and spits everything out.
"Forgive me," he says, reigning himself in, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Caroline gets the feeling he is incredibly embarrassed by the situation, ashamed that she has decided to stay back and help him out. Like any of this is his fault.
"It's ok," she says, putting the mug away. "Are you sure you don't want any blood?"
He shoots her a hard look. "I said no."
"It'll be fine, Elijah. It's just a little bit of blood."
"I'm not feeding on you, Caroline."
"But if it would help you heal faster -"
"It won't. And the state I'm in— I don't know that I'd be able to stop. This is not up for debate."
She sighs in resignation. "Remind me to beat the crap out of your brother when you're feeling better."
"Yes," he says, slumping back against the pillows. "Remind me to remind you to get in line."
"It doesn't help much that we're in the middle of the swamp. If we'd been home, I could probably make that tea more palatable with some honey and cinnamon."
"It's not the tea. The venom will run its course. Besides..." He stops, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath. "I can't be moved. I should stay as far away from civilization as possible. In fact -"
Elijah is interrupted by another violent coughing fit. Caroline leans forward, putting an arm around his shoulder to help him into a sitting position.
"I'm fine," he speaks after a moment, more air than voice, but the creases on his brow and his bloodshot eyes tell a different story. He's obviously in a lot of pain, but trying to put up a strong face.
"You know, Elijah, you don't have to pretend. I've seen what werewolf bite does to a vampire."
"I'm not just any vampire."
"Yeah, and Klaus isn't just any werewolf."
He stares at her like he wants to debunk her logic, but lets out a defeated breath instead when he can't come up with anything.
"You don't have to stay here," he insists.
"Where else would I go?"
"Home."
Caroline snorts in derision. "Right, because I'm just dying to spend some quality time with your brother right now. Thank you, but I'd rather stay right here in the swamp."
"Caroline, please," he presses. "This fever will make me unstable. Once the hallucinations begin I'll start to see things. I'll say things." She considers telling him he's already doing that, but decides to save him the embarrassment. "You must leave me here."
"I'm not leaving you here like this, Elijah. You got that bite because you came out here to help me. If things get ugly, I can take care of myself. But I'm not going anywhere."
A calm half-smile graces his lips then, and he looks at her with such tenderness that she has to look away to disguise the flush on her cheeks. This is exactly the kind of thing that would drive Klaus out of his freaking mind, she thinks. But it's his own goddamn fault for leaving his brother so debilitated. She hasn't known Elijah for long, but she has utmost trust that he would do the exact same thing for her and, in a city like New Orleans, Caroline has learned very fast that true friends should be cherished.
Klaus can bite her as well if he doesn't like it.
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When Marcel arrives at the compound, everyone has already gathered around.
He asked Diego to get all the daywalkers to meet him at one of the hidden rooms in the dungeons beneath the main building. Normally he'd only take his innermost group there. It's the privatest part of his private quarters, after all. But this meeting is not only important, it's also extremely confidential. If what that kid told him last night is true, then they have a problem in their hands that is like nothing Marcel's faced in all the one hundred odd years he's been at the helm of the ship in New Orleans. This could change everything — and not just for the city. It could change the balance in the world for generations to come. And it'll start right here, in his backyard.
Davina's already taking care of Josh, who had been spying for Klaus all this time. Clever, actually. Any other day he would've killed the kid without a second thought or at the very least walled him up for a couple decades in the garden to teach him a lesson.
But that would've been unfair. It wasn't Josh's fault Klaus got to him before Marcel could shove vervain down his throat. There was nothing he could do against an Original. Besides, he kinda likes the guy. And so does Davina, judging by the messages she's sent him detailing their progress in breaking Klaus' compulsion. Having Josh to play double agent will prove invaluable to their plans if they are to take down the Mikaelsons.
That's not to say that Klaus couldn't have infiltrated the group more deeply, taken one or two of his daywalkers as well. It's unlikely, because Marcel makes sure they never skip their daily doses of vervain now that the city is crawling with Original vampires, and he hasn't noticed any of them missing for longer periods of time. But there is no such thing as being too cautious around that family. Since the thing with Thierry, Marcel has been having a hard time fully trusting his guys. He would've put his whole life in Thierry's hands, and look what he did... Because of a witch, nonetheless.
Klaus has been back in town for just a couple of months and already Marcel is becoming paranoid. Like father, like son...
"Everyone is here," Diego tells him. Marcel can tell he's dying to know what this meeting is about. Diego's always been a bit too eager. Marcel loves him to bits, but he's no Thierry. He misses his old friend's calm composure.
"All right," he says, rubbing his hands and putting on a smile for show. Confidence is the mark of a true leader. "I'll keep this simple, then. I brought someone here who has something interesting to share with us."
He makes a signal and the kid stands up at the back of the room. Marcel told him to stay hidden until he showed up, just to avoid an unnecessary commotion. Diego loathes werewolves.
"Who's that?" Diego asks, fixing the newcomer with a death glare.
"Chill, Diego. He's not an enemy." He motions for Diego to calm down and the vampire takes a seat, crossing his arms in front of his chest stubbornly. "This kid is an old foe of your favorite person, Klaus. He's got plenty to say about what that traitorous son of a bitch has been up to behind my back. Now, for those of you faint of heart, there's the door, because those who stick around, you're signing up for battle." Marcel looks each and every one of them straight in the eye. Some of them are reluctant, nervous even. Klaus has left quite an impression after that bite on Thierry. But their hatred keeps them steady, and so no one leaves. Marcel is quite proud of his men: they may be scared, but they're loyal to the bones. "All right, then. Gather around, take a seat. Tyler here is gonna tell you a story."
He nods to Tyler Lockwood, the half-werewolf, half-vampire boy who came to him last night with the most absurd story Marcel's ever heard. He would've laughed it off as despair from someone with a lot of hatred for Klaus — if Rebekah hadn't confirmed everything. It's completely bonkers, but apparently Klaus Mikaelson really is that special that he can even procreate. There's irony in the fact that the deadliest of them all is also the only one who can create life.
All eyes turn to Tyler as he starts to speak.
"You all know Klaus wasn't always a hybrid. When he broke the curse that kept his werewolf side dormant, somewhere in all that, certain parts were now able to trump his vampire side. Like the ability to pass on the werewolf gene. That's where the witch girl who's been hiding from all of you comes in."
"Wait a second," Marcel says. "She's a witch?"
"You didn't know?"
Suddenly, everything makes sense. The magical activity Davina picked up in the Bayou yesterday, when Klaus and Elijah went to find her... It was so far Marcel didn't think he had to worry about it, even though Davina mentioned it being a strong one and not familiar to her at all, which could point towards an outsider with a different magic source. Marcel asked her to inform him if she picked up on anything closer to the French Quarter, but there was nothing, so he decided to drop it as just someone passing by. It's not unheard of; New Orleans is, after all, a magnet for supernatural creatures of all sorts. And werewolf packs like to travel around with witches. Could be that one of those groups had decided to stop by to say hello to their distant cousins stranded in the Bayou. But it was her.
So Klaus knocked up a witch. And one who does not share Davina's ancestral magic. How convenient.
"I grew up with her," Tyler continues. "We've known each other since we were kids. She was my girlfriend all through high school. But then Klaus killed my family, threatened me and I was forced to run for my life. When I came back, she had hooked up with him. He always had a thing for her, but I never thought she would reciprocate the feelings of a monster. Now she's pregnant with his kid."
Diego scoffs. "What the hell is this?"
"Just listen, Diego," Marcel warns.
"When Klaus became a hybrid, he made it his life's mission to figure out a way to turn full-bred werewolves into creatures like him. You're looking at one of them right now." Everyone exchanges suspicious looks, a ripple of uncertainty suddenly going around. The word hybrid has been creeping people around lately, no wonder they're uncomfortable to be in a room with one. They're probably just as shocked as Marcel was to find out Klaus not only had acquired the lethal bite of a werewolf, but had found a way to make more like him. It's the stuff of nightmares. "On the plus side, we had all the perks of being vampires. We were stronger, faster, and the toxins in our bites could still kill a vampire, even in our human forms, which we were now in complete control of. We didn't have to turn on full moons anymore. I could do it anytime, or no time at all, and we were still deadly. But on the downside..." Tyler makes a pause, sending Marcel a cryptic look. "We were loyal to him. Supernaturally loyal."
"Right, and that's why you're here, spilling all his secrets," Diego snaps.
"No, that's the point, Diego," Marcel explains. "He figured out a way to break free from it."
"And I helped the rest of them, too. Then Klaus killed them for their betrayal. And I had to leave."
"Because that's what Niklaus does." All heads snap around like thunder when Rebekah walks in. "Don't mind me; I'm fascinated by this story. Hello, Tyler," she says, smiling.
"Rebekah. Long time no see."
Tyler was aware that Rebekah would be showing up, but even he looks uncomfortable with her presence. Marcel figured as much. His guys have every reason not to trust the Original family, and by the little he's heard from Tyler about the Mikaelsons' time in Mystic Falls, he doesn't have a lot of sympathy for her, either. She used to do Klaus' bidding, showing up at his house in the middle of the night with compelled people she'd pick up on the street to force him to feed. Klaus wanted him strong and bloodthirsty, Rebekah would say. As much as he didn't want to, he didn't have a choice. As soon as she said it was Klaus' command, Tyler couldn't stop himself.
It's understandable that he wouldn't trust Rebekah. But Tyler doesn't know her like Marcel does. Doesn't know half the things Klaus has done to her, how he's ruined her life time and time again, gotten in the way of her happiness. How he kept the two of them apart out of jealousy.
Maybe he is crazy for following a girl he hasn't seen in almost a century so blindly. Maybe it'll come back to bite him in the ass. Wouldn't be the first time with the Mikaelson lot. Marcel may not be sired to her, but he can understand the feeling of being incapable of saying no to someone, almost like every cell in your body has been programmed to answer in a certain manner. Rebekah is like that to him. An addiction. One hundred years apart and he still feels weak in the knees at the sight of her, like the little boy he was the first time he saw her... A beautiful goddess whose hair shined like the sun. He just can't resist her.
If there's a chance Marcel could have everything — the city, the throne and Rebekah — then he's willing to fight for it. Even if that will put the two of them in Klaus' blacklist, like all those years ago. It's still worth a try.
"What Tyler was about to tell you lot is that my brother's main source to sire new hybrids has been extinguished. But we just found out he can use his baby's blood to continue on with his world domination plan," Rebekah says to a collective gasp. "What you will all figure out is that vampires such as you don't stand a chance. So Tyler, I assume you were trying to rally this lot into making sure the baby isn't born?"
"Yeah. You don't like it, go ahead and take your brother's side, but you know I'm right."
"I believe you've mistaken the lady's intentions," Marcel smirks.
"All right, what's going on?" Diego demands impatiently, standing on his feet.
"You're absolutely right, Tyler. My brother is a crap enough individual as it is. The last thing he needs is to sire a superior species. Go on, you can tell them," Rebekah nods to Marcel.
"She's not here to fight us," he announces to a bewildered crowd. "She's here to help us."
"Exactly. But first." In a blur, Rebekah flashes to Tyler, much faster than any normal vampire ever could, and snaps his neck. Everyone jumps to their feet — including Marcel.
"What the hell, Rebekah?!"
She pushes Tyler away and takes a seat. "That is enough talk about harming that baby. Let's discuss strategy, but my niece is not to be touched," she says, crossing her legs. "It's Niklaus we're putting a stop to."
Words that sound like music to Marcel Gerard's ears.
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"They've all forsaken me," Klaus says, words coated in pure vile, while pacing his living room. "My siblings are deceitful and diseased as my parents ever were. Accusing me of using my unborn child for my own gain. Elijah–" He pauses when he notices the typing has stopped.
Cami is leaning over the desk, fixing a typo with correction fluid.
"Would a laptop kill you?" she grumbles.
"That typewriter was good enough for Hemingway."
"I can see the resemblance," she says with a scoff. "Booze and random acts of violence."
Klaus decides to let her snide remark go as she finishes fixing the paper back into the typewriter. He needs to get this part out of his chest, and since there's no one else around to listen to his rant, his stenographer will have to do.
"Elijah and Rebekah have cut to the quick with their vicious lies about me, when all I've done is try to win this battle of wills against Marcel in order to reclaim my home," he continues, hands clasped behind his back as he starts pacing once more. "And they've done it by driving Caroline away. They're using her to get to me. Thinking that by having her on their side, they'll be able to manipulate me — Cami, type, please."
She's completely relinquished her work now, slumped back against the chair, arms folded across her chest, giving him a stern look. He doesn't give her generous tips so she can judge him; he pays her just to listen and type.
"What's the point?" she counters. "You just repeat the same thing over and over and over. We've been through several decades of your story and every few years or so, it's the same thing. Rebekah is out to get you. Elijah is out to get you. Now he wants your baby's mother. Is there anyone who isn't plotting against you? I doubt you trust your own reflection."
"If I can't trust my own family, then who will I trust?" he asks in a clipped tone.
"How about Caroline?"
Klaus huffs out in irritation. The mere mention of her name makes him crave for a glass of bourbon. "She'll trust anything that comes from Elijah's sweet lips before she trusts me. It's always like that. Elijah, the noble. The good brother. I've never shown her anything but kindness. How fast has she turned on me." He downs the whole glass at once, immediately pouring himself some more.
"She didn't turn on you. Based on what you've told me so far, especially about your time in— what's it called again? Magic Waters?"
"Mystic Falls."
"Right. Mystic Falls. Sounds like she had valuable questions that you refused to answer, thus reinforcing her belief that you were lying to her. Why does it hurt your feelings so much to have her doubting your intentions?"
"Because I've done nothing to deserve her contempt!" Klaus growls furiously, almost smashing the glass in his hand.
With an air of infinite patience, Cami stands up. She takes a few tentative steps towards him, chin up, as she tries her best to pretend he doesn't scare her. The brave bartender is how Marcel described her after their first encounter: he let her go unharmed because she hadn't been scared.
Then again, she had no idea what they were. Now, when she looks at Klaus, she knows exactly what kind of beast she's facing — moreover, she knows she can't escape him. Running, hiding, it's not enough if he ever decides to finish her. A lesser person would bow down to him, follow his every command. Cami, as frightened as she is, tries to maintain a resemblance of control. Klaus can admire her spunk, even if he could do without her psycho-analysis bollocks. She's lucky her company is at the very least amusing to him. Otherwise, she would've probably been served as a main course for dinner already.
"Trust isn't something you can get once and retain for the rest of your life, Klaus," she starts, trying to get through to him with cool professionalism. "This girl, from what I understand, was brought to this city against her will, with no idea that she was even pregnant. I know it's hard, but you have to try and put yourself in her shoes. Can you imagine how terrified she must be all the time? How much of her trust do you think she's willing to offer freely to anything or anyone in this place? She probably doesn't take a single step without thinking before putting her foot down. And all you've done is act as though she's supposed to take whatever you say for face value when, in fact, you've done nothing to ascertain your bonds. She's reaching out to you, but your behavior keeps pushing her away."
Klaus feels as anger flares up, his face twisting into a scowl. The beast stirs inside of him, its golden glare flickering across his eyes. Cami stiffens noticeably, swallowing down hard.
"I'm not the one she seeks, the one she converses with, confides in," he says, his voice low and grave. "It's my brother."
"Because he's been there for her since day one, while you keep slipping away, waging a war against Marcel and deliberately leaving her out while she's here all on her own, isolated from everything and everyone. All day, every day. If Elijah is the one who shows an interest in her company, don't you think it's natural that she'd gravitate towards him in times of need? The concept might be a little alien to you, Klaus, but people like to be valued as individuals, rather than as assets. I speak from experience," she says, punctuating her sentence with a snide little smile.
"If my daggers hadn't gone missing, I would solve this problem quite easily. Just put one through each of their hearts, rid myself of the burden of my siblings for a couple of centuries. That would end all my woes."
Cami shakes her head reprovingly. "Look at you. Repeating the same destructive cycles over and over again. That is exactly the kind of thing that drives people away. You are the architect of your own unhappiness, Klaus."
He knocks back the rest of his drink, enjoying the burn as the liquid washes down his throat. "I don't remember asking for your advice. I brought you here to type."
"Oh, really? So of all people in New Orleans, you choose someone with a masters in psychology to record your life story. You're over a thousand years old; I'm pretty damn sure you know how to type. The truth is, you compel me to come here because you have no one else to talk to. You fight with Elijah, you threaten Rebekah away, you go out of your way to keep a distance from the mother of your child, and then you get upset when nobody seems to understand you. So you compel me to be here, and then you compel me to forget everything as soon as I leave your presence because while you whine about not being trusted by the people you love, the truth is you're the one who's too scared to trust."
"I'm scared of nothing," he hisses out, furiously.
"So your brother stranded in the Bayou with the girl you like doesn't make you flinch?" Klaus bites the inside of his lips, swallowing back a protest and several less than polite expletives. Camille smiles triumphantly, but only for a moment. "What you're doing here is the same thing you're doing to the other people in your life. You spend all your time away, plotting and scheming in the Quarter under the argument of trying to win back your city when, in reality, you're just dodging your responsibilities to the people in this house. Fatherhood scares you and you're afraid Caroline will think you're a fraud or a failure, so you hide from her. The more you do that, the further apart from you she drifts, the more irritated you get, the more easily you lash out, the angrier she gets at you, the less she's willing to trust you, the more she takes refuge in your brother's company. It's a cycle, Klaus, and it starts with you. If you want it to end, you have to stop it. Talk more and sulk less. Stop pointing fingers at everyone."
A hot flush of anger shoots right through Klaus, and he suddenly remembers why exactly he doesn't mingle with humans. He considers how mad at him Caroline would be if she knew he ate Camille. Considering he's not exactly in her good graces at the moment, probably a lot. So instead of sinking his teeth into her like he wants to, he says, "I think we're done here."
Camille huffs out a mirthless laugh, shaking her head and collecting her belongings. "Call me when you feel like having a two-sided conversation instead of giving a monologue. You don't need me here for that."
She doesn't even know how lucky she is that Klaus had a feast for breakfast this morning. Had he been hungry, she wouldn't be leaving this house on her own two feet.
Now, where could his daggers be?
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Marcel shifts nervously as Klaus makes his way into the apparently deserted compound.
This is it.
Moment of truth.
They'll either take down Klaus Mikaelson once and for all, or they'll lose everything.
Part of him thinks this is a stupid idea. He literally grew up with the Mikaelsons. He knows how strong they are, Klaus most of all. And he's only grown more powerful since his last stay in New Orleans. Deadlier than ever.
But Rebekah seems to think they have a real shot. A hundred vampires against one hybrid.
"He's strong, but he's not indestructible. I've seen him bleed. The kids in Mystic Falls used to get him all the time. It might take some fighting, but we can overpower him. Lock him up, throw the keys away until we figure out how to put him down. I'm sure Davina can figure it out."
Well, if his own sister is confident they can do it, then so is Marcel.
He wanted to have used that Tyler kid, enlisted his own hybrid form to help strengthen their ranks, but Rebekah was adamant that they should keep him out of it — Tyler would stop at nothing until the baby is dead. As much as Marcel might have concerns about this child, he can agree with Rebekah. He has a rule against harming children, even those whose blood can be used to sire entire armies of superior creatures. It's not the child's fault. And, according to Rebekah, neither is Caroline's.
"My brother became silly smitten with her and she was foolish enough to fall for his charm, but she had no idea she could get pregnant and, trust me, she hates the situation just as much as we do. Sometimes more, like when she gets ganged up by witches in the middle of the Bayou. Caroline is not the enemy and neither is her child. It's Niklaus we have to deal with."
Eliminating Klaus would be tricky in the best of circumstances, but Rebekah also revealed that they've recently learned that, when one of them dies, their entire sire line dies with them. Which means, if they kill Klaus, everyone he's ever turned dies with him. That implicates Marcel himself. So they need to put him down, but they can't kill him. Now how the hell will they do that?
Rebekah thinks there are spells for it. According to her, a witch named Bonnie Bennett found a way. They tried to contact her, but she wasn't answering her phone.
"You said she's friends with Caroline. Why don't we just ask her? She might know the spell."
"Not a chance. Caroline won't ever agree to this."
"You just said she's not the enemy."
"She isn't. But that's not to say she wants my brother gone."
"Even if he torments her life?"
"It's more complicated than that. He is the father of her child and Nik is the only idiot in this world who doesn't seem to realize she has feelings for him still. So, no. Leave Caroline out of this."
The situation is far from ideal, but they can't let this go on any longer. When Klaus started calling him nonstop, Marcel knew there was something going on. And when he received the message I want my dagger back, they knew it was time. He was thinking about putting his siblings down again — and he'd probably start with Rebekah. He was not about to let him do that to her again. So it was time to teach him a lesson.
Like this, all alone at the empty courtyard, he doesn't look like the larger than life creature Marcel knows him to be. He's not that tall, not physically dominant either. He looks like a spoiled white kid who's never known a single day of hard work. But all it takes to understand the force of nature that is Klaus Mikaelson is a glance at his ice cold grey eyes. They're deep, old and calculating. Even to a complete stranger who has no idea who he is, Klaus' eyes speak of danger. Marcel knows better than to underestimate him. He has his best and most trusted men just waiting for his signal.
Tonight is the night Klaus Mikaelson will know pain.
"Klaus," he says, finally stepping out of the shadows.
Klaus stops, turns around to face him, a stiffening across his face. He doesn't even know what awaits him yet and already he's angry.
"You've been avoiding my calls," he says, drily.
"A little pissed off lately."
"Apologies for my behavior can come later. You have something of mine. I want it back."
Klaus' eyes flash as Marcel fishes the dagger from the inside of his jacket. "Sorry," he says. "Can't do that."
He hears the sound of her heels before he feels her soft touch on his shoulder. Marcel offers Rebekah the dagger that had been stuck in Elijah's chest, and she takes it.
Klaus frowns. So he was expecting a trap of some sort. But not one involving his own sister. "What is this?"
"Apologies for your behavior?" Rebekah asks. "You don't apologize, Nik. You just act. I've had enough. We have had enough."
His expression slowly morphs into a deceptively calm smile that does not meet the darkness in his eyes. "Well, look at you. Finally in possession of the one thing that can take you down. How does it feel, little sister?"
"Great."
"Enough talk," Marcel says, bringing his fingers to his mouth and whistling.
Half of his men come forward, out of every door, down the stairs, jumping from the roof. Klaus watches with an impassive expression.
"So this is it?" he speaks after a moment. "The evil bastard Klaus has gone too far, must be punished. And by his own sibling, nonetheless. How positively biblical. And you, Marcel. Is this your idea of a hit? I taught you better than this paltry excuse for a takedown. You think you can subdue me with this?!" His voice becomes increasingly angrier as he goes on, escalating to a shout.
"No. But I think this can." He whistles a second time, and then the rest of the guys come in, crowding the courtyard.
Even Klaus Mikaelson can't possibly overpower this many vampires. Some of those guys are as old as Marcel. They're strong, well fed and angry.
But if Klaus is concerned, he doesn't show it.
"Let's end this charade, shall we?" he says, a manic smile on his face. He puts his hand inside his pocket and takes out a coin. Marcel exchanges a look with Rebekah, who seems to be just as lost. "Vampires of New Orleans," Klaus starts, his voice booming loudly across the courtyard. "Do recall that I am an Original. A hybrid. I cannot be killed. You, on the other hand, can, and quite easily, as a matter of fact. To borrow a trick from an old friend..." He lifts his hand, showing them his coin. "Whoever picks up this coin gets to live. Now, which of you magnificent bastards would like to join forces with me?"
"Anyone wants that coin, pledge allegiance to Klaus, take it now. Go ahead. The choice is yours."
Marcel lets his gaze travel around the place, from face to face. Some of his men are antsy, perhaps even tempted to pick up the coin. He can understand the allure — not that he would forgive whoever did it, of course. But even the most uncertain of them don't want to join forces with a hybrid who's already shown himself to be more than a little unreliable. Klaus' word is only as good as his next mood swing. Who wants to pledge allegiance to someone like that?
His sirer looks a little crestfallen when no one volunteers to join him. Did he really think he'd made friends here?
Marcel smiles in triumph. "Take him," he orders, and then all hell breaks loose.
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Rebekah holds her breath when Marcel's vampires charge toward Klaus.
She wants her brother to learn a lesson. He needs to be stopped before he destroys everything, including his own life. Klaus is totally unhinged. He's daggered Elijah, bitten him, left him to wither away in fever and dementia in the Bayou, and not even Caroline could stop him this time. It won't be long before he drives her away as well — or worse.
Rebekah doesn't want to sit still and wait for Klaus to lose it completely.
But seeing as her brother gets beaten and stabbed by a mob of rabid vampires... She looks away, trying to block out the sound of Klaus' infuriated growls. It sends a pang of guilt shooting right through her.
Klaus has ruined her life so many times. He robbed her of entire centuries, daggering her for the pettiest of reasons. Like he has some divine right to control all his siblings just because he's the strongest of them all.
This is nothing compared to rotting away for decades in a box, but it still breaks her heart. He's still her brother. The sweet boy who used to sculpt her toys and bring her flowers from the woods. Then darkness took over and twisted him into this deranged, heartless monster she can hardly recognize anymore.
But when he screams... She remembers the way he'd shout and plead for their father to take pity on him, begging for forgiveness for things he hadn't even done just so he'd stop assaulting him. Rebekah would always go to him afterward, pick him up from the floor, tend to his wounds, hold him until he stopped shaking. Not even a thousand years have erased those memories from her mind. It remains as vivid as though it happened yesterday. And when Marcel's vampires tie him up with chains and start pulling him as though trying to rip him apart, it's all Rebekah can do not to stop them.
But then everything changes. There's a moment of unnatural silence in the middle of the chaos, and she senses Marcel going rigid next to her. She lifts her eyes to find Klaus' gaze. His eyes are golden; the veins on his face all popping and dark, his hybrid fangs grazing his bloodied lips.
The next thing she knows, he's breaking free of the chains and shaking vampires off him as though they were ants. One by one, they start to drop. Klaus rips their hearts out, severs their heads, and sinks his teeth deep into their skins, lacerating their throats. None of them can stop him. It's like a bunch of children trying to take on a giant.
Rebekah has never seen him like this before. She doubts even he knew he had this kind of strength. Klaus' hybrid had never been truly tested until this moment, and it is much more terrifying than anything she could've ever imagined. Her brother is a true force of nature. She understands it now, why her mother placed that curse on him, why she never wanted him to awaken his werewolf side. This is like nothing this world has ever seen.
Klaus is more beast than man. And he'll kill them all.
"Pick up the coin," she mutters, words tumbling over one another. "Pick up the coin, Marcel. He's going to kill all of us."
Marcel doesn't move, doesn't blink. He's frozen in fear, too shocked to even register that she's talking.
"Marcel!" she yells, panicking, yanking his arm. "Pick up the bloody coin!"
The younger vampire starts forward, kneeling down and taking the coin. He's trembling, his face contorted in a bland of anger and grief. He feels responsible, Rebekah knows. These men would follow him to hell, and that's exactly what this feels like. Hell.
"Enough!" he screams, his voice thundering above the sound of the battle.
Klaus stops, dropping the vampire whose heart he was about to squeeze in his fist. He's covered in blood from head to toe, his golden eyes flickering with a manic glint.
"Well, well, well," he says, an ugly smile on his face. He lifts his head to look around the courtyard, and Rebekah follows his gaze. Some of the vampires on the floor still writhe in terrible pain, some missing limbs, but not yet dead. Some stepped away and ran as soon as they realized what awaited them at the end of this battle. But her brother has killed a third of Marcel's army. It was a bloodbath. They never stood a chance. "The great Marcel, self-proclaimed king of New Orleans, bowing before me."
Marcel swallows down hard, his face twisting into a scowl. "I hereby pledge my allegiance to you. You have the keys to my kingdom, Klaus. It's yours."
Klaus stops right in front of Marcel, and then his gaze lifts to meet Rebekah's. Cold gray eyes turned to steel. "That is correct," he says. "This kingdom is mine."
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An hour later, the adrenaline is only starting to wear off.
Klaus takes a deep breath, pouring himself a drink from Marcel's finest bourbon. He feels energized. Thrumming with a kind of power he didn't even realize he had. Maybe he should thank Marcel for the test-drive.
Ever since breaking his curse, Klaus was yet to release the full power of his beast. He'd come close to it the day he slaughtered his hybrids, but nothing compared to this. For a second there, he thought Marcel would win. He looked at all those vampires, jumping over him like a bunch of rats, and he felt despair seeping into his bones... And then something snapped. It was as though he wasn't himself anymore. Or he was, only... More. He stopped thinking, stopped breathing, and all he saw was red. And once the energy started flowing, it didn't stop.
Klaus would've gladly taken each and every one of them down, bathed in the blood of his enemies, and felt not a shred of remorse. But being a hybrid means he preserves his humanity even as his beast takes over. He heard Marcel's voice and regained control. He's quite proud of himself, actually. If there's one thing better than feeling invincible, is to have an absolute command over it.
They didn't know the full extent of Klaus' powers. Now they do. And he's certain they won't ever attempt anything that idiotic again.
New Orleans is his once more.
He should be happier about this.
Isn't it what he wanted? Destroy Marcel. Devastate his army. Take back his kingdom. The high of the action still pulses through his body like a force, but Klaus is not nearly as satisfied with himself or the situation as he should be.
It's because of Rebekah.
She betrayed him. His own sister, aligned with his enemy to take him down. How could she? What kind of hatred does she shelter in her heart that she was willing to watch as dozens of vampires tore him apart? That's awfully cold. Even for someone like Rebekah. Or especially for someone like Rebekah. He'd expect it from Finn. Even Kol. But not her. Not his favorite.
She hates him. His own sister hates him.
He'll concede that he's wronged her one too many occasions. He makes no excuses for his mistakes. But he loves her. Doesn't she know that? Klaus would never plot against her this way. Let a bunch of lowlife strangers take her down with stakes and chains.
And while Rebekah plotted his demise here in the French Quarter, Elijah remains hanging by a thread in the Bayou — with Caroline.
His family is in shatters. They all despise him. And he's been trying so hard...
This pain he feels deep in his chest, that lump in his throat... It's not because of the fight. Not because he's injured. It's because he's heartbroken.
Klaus sees Marcellus cutting a lonesome figure on the second floor, watching as his new right-hand man, Diego, piles up the bodies and sets them on fire. It'll take some time, cleaning up this mess.
Klaus feels a bit of a stab as he approaches the man who was once like a son to him. He mourned Marcel's death once. Vowed to murder Mikael with his own two hands for what he did to New Orleans, and to his best friend. He would've murdered Marcel tonight if he hadn't picked up that coin. What a tragic turn of events, indeed.
"Looking at what you've wrought?" he asks, joining him.
Marcel sighs wearily. "If you're going to kill me, let's just get this over with."
"Why would I kill you?" he asks to Marcel's confusion. "You picked up the coin. There are rules of engagement in battle, Marcel. Without them, you'd have anarchy. I would, however, like to talk accommodations. Your living quarters, for example. I believe they used to be mine."
"You want the compound? Fine. It's yours. You can put me back on the streets for all I care. But let's make one thing clear, Klaus. You'll never have this," he says in a clipped tone, his voice thick with emotion, gesticulating towards the courtyard. The ones not dead are working in a morose, mournful rhythm, honoring their fallen comrades. "This is loyalty, Klaus. You can't buy it. You can't own it. You can't force it. It comes only out of love and respect for the people who believe in you. You taught me many things, Niklaus Mikaleson, but this I learned myself, and it's something that you will never know."
The blow lands, but Klaus manages to keep it off his face. Marcel isn't wrong. While he had dozens of vampires willing to die for his cause, Klaus doesn't even have a sibling willing to do it. "Enjoy your kingdom." Marcel brushes by him and flashes down the stairs, disappearing from sight.
Klaus' eyes roam over his home. The one he built himself, now covered with bodies and painted red with blood.
He should be happy to be returning. It's what he wanted, after all. Move out of the swamp and that plantation house and back into the French Quarter, to the place that should've been his family's forever home.
But all Klaus feels is an impossible, overwhelming loneliness.
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Caroline exhales loudly as they park the car in front of the plantation house.
That woman was taken from this house two nights ago, had to fight for her life against someone she never thought could hurt her, was exposed to some awfully uncomfortable truths about her child and then had to watch as her baby's father snapped. And still she sat diligently by Elijah's side for an entire day.
He only remembers some of it, spent most of that time trapped in a state of semi-consciousness, unable to tell reality from the fabrications of his feverish mind. But he clearly recalls telling her to leave several times, and her constant refusals. She slept in an old chair, ate some leftover crackers she found in one of the tents, but whenever Elijah's mind started wandering too far off, he'd feel Caroline's hand in his, hear her gentle voice telling him to stay calm, that he'd be all right.
Somehow it always brought him back.
Now that he's finally himself again, albeit still mildly uncomfortable and in desperate need of feeding, he can finally see that the past couple of days have taken a toll on her. She hasn't had a single hour of peace since the near miscarriage caused by the witches. Caroline is exhausted. Every line of her body speaks of a weariness that goes beyond the physique. Her mind is spent. Her soul. And yet she resisted and stayed in the Bayou with him.
Elijah can't put into words what he feels for her in that moment. Or rather, he doesn't dare to do it. The gratitude, the affection, the complete sense of devotion... It's overwhelming. Caroline Forbes is so much more than meets the eye. A weaker person would've already crumbled beneath the strain of her less than ordinary circumstances. The strength of that woman is something truly remarkable. He can see it so clearly, the light his brother once spoke of.
How can Niklaus be such a monumental fool when it comes to her? He should be doing everything in his power to make sure Caroline is comfortable and that all her needs are met at all times. Instead, he tests the limits of her patience with every breath he takes. Elijah cannot imagine how his dimwit of a brother managed to win this girl's affections, but he must've done something right, because it's so obvious that, underneath the anger and indignation, Niklaus' outbursts and temper tantrums are hurting her. She cares about him. Truly. Caroline has seen his heart, the darkest parts of his soul, and yet she still believes that he is worth it. Doesn't he know how precious this is? How rare?
But it's just like Niklaus to ruin every good thing that comes his way. Because he loathes himself so much, he doesn't think anybody could ever truly love him. It's not usually a problem when it comes to strangers because Niklaus hardly ever finds himself caring enough about people. He uses them and throws them away as one who discards an old shirt, and the ones who insist normally end up dead.
Niklaus' had countless lovers over the centuries. Beautiful, colorful, smart. Elijah doubts more than a handful of those ever truly meant anything to him. But in the rare occasion where he does find something that moves him, touches his soul and leaves an impression, Niklaus becomes paranoid. Not in fear of losing, but in fear of getting lost himself. Love is a weakness, is what he always says.
Well, Elijah doesn't think his brother's had a weakness quite as strong as Caroline in decades. Maybe longer. And it is doing his head in. He fights his own feelings as though it were an infection, lashing out left and right to drive Caroline away and thus prove a ludicrous point that she never truly cared about him in the first place. That no one in their right mind could ever love a monster.
Elijah doesn't know if what Caroline feels for his brother is love, but it could be, if nurtured right. Oh, how Elijah envies him... To be the recipient of such sentiment. He's often found himself wishing she would look at him the way she sometimes looks at Niklaus. He can't even say his brother doesn't know what he has, how lucky he is that, despite all the pain he inflicted upon the people of Mystic Falls, he's won her heart, even if only just. Klaus knows exactly what he has. Which is why he's so desperate. He's finally got something to lose. And right now, he's afraid he'll lose it to his own brother. The fool... Any idiot can see there's a clear difference in the way Caroline treats them. He's a friend to her, someone she can trust. Niklaus is... More. The only reason he hurts her so much, why he angers her so, is because she expects more from him, wants more from him.
Elijah has made an ironclad resolve to suppress his heart's true desires, but that doesn't stop him from wondering what it would be like if he could put up a fight.
"Are you sure we're ready for this?" Caroline speaks after a long pause, staring grimly at the house.
"We'll have to face him sooner or later. There's no point in delaying it."
"Yeah, I know," she says around a sigh. She turns her face to him, watching him studiously. "Before we go in..." she hesitates, biting on her lower lip as though considering whether to continue.
"What is it?" he prods.
She looks away, down to her own lap, and then back up. "What happened to Celeste?"
Elijah freezes as a cold spreads through his chest. He hasn't heard that name in centuries. And yet, even so many years later, he can feel all the cracks in his heart as though they were brand new.
"Where did you hear that name?"
"From you," Caroline says apologetically. "You kept calling her name while you were in the high of your delusions. Sometimes you'd look at me and... I think you were seeing her. Or... remembering something from the past. And every time I touched you, you pulled me into your mind. I saw her — but I wasn't trying to pry, I promise, I really didn't mean to do it." There's a pause, and then, slowly, a tiny smile creeps onto her face. "She was really hot. And it seemed like you really cared about her."
Brilliant. So he was hallucinating Celeste. Of all the things he could've thought of...
But he knows exactly why he must've thought of her, doesn't he? It's New Orleans. It's Niklaus becoming unhinged again. It's someone he cares about getting caught in the crossfire.
"That's not important," he says after a moment. Speaking about Celeste still brings a sour tang to his mouth.
"A thousand years of memories and that's what breaks through your fever brain? Of course it's important."
Elijah takes a breath, tapping his fingers lightly over the wheels. Caroline stood by his side through his Niklaus-induced sickness. If that has led her to hear and see some of his memories of Celeste, then she at least deserves some explanation.
But words do not come easily to him.
"Celeste was murdered," he finally tells her. "I found her drowned in a bathtub."
"God... I'm so sorry."
"It was a cruel and bloody time to be a witch. Courtesy of my wonderful brother."
"What?" Caroline sits up straighter, her eyes burning on Elijah as he keeps his face forward. "Klaus killed her?"
"No. Celeste died because of me. Because I cared too deeply for her. I allowed my brother to slip through my grasp. I loosened the reins while Celeste consumed my every moment. I abandoned him in the name of my own happiness. And as always, he got out of control. Celeste paid the price."
"I don't understand."
"Niklaus started piling up the bodies all over New Orleans. And to not attract our father's attention across the ocean, he spread a rumor that it was the witches who were behind the slaughter, seeking victims for blood sacrifices. It set the other factions on edge. Witches started being hunted, and I didn't stop the rumors or took control of Niklaus' bloodthirst in time. I'm sure he didn't mean for Celeste to be murdered, but... He also didn't care if she was."
Elijah made the mistake of not making it very clear to his family how much Celeste meant to him, to put out a clear sign that she was under his protection and no harm should come to her. He thought that by keeping Niklaus as far away as possible she'd be safe. His brother is known to let jealousy take the best of him, and his possessive nature was all focused on his family at the time. Rebekah was always his favorite victim, but nothing guaranteed he wouldn't act the exact same way towards Elijah.
Hiding his feelings from Klaus was, in the end, what sealed Celeste's horrible fate.
Maybe Elijah should learn from his past missteps.
"I don't get it," Caroline says. "Why are you still here, trying to put this family together? None of what is happening involves you. You don't have to put yourself through all this for him."
"Niklaus is broken. And to me, the very definition of the word broken suggests that something can be fixed." He finally turns to face Caroline, who's clearly confused. He smiles. "I have all eternity to accomplish one single task. My brother's salvation. If I surrender this, then tell me, what value would I be to my family? To myself? To -" Elijah stops himself, correcting what he was going to say. "To your child?"
Caroline nods, turning her face back to the window. "So this is why I'm here. So you can tie a rope to my miracle baby and rescue her father from the depths of despair. Incubator."
"Caroline, that's not–"
"I get it," she says, and when she faces him again, it's with a harsh kind of determination in her blue eyes. "It's not about me. I'm not important. I'm just a means to an end for your family. You've stuck together for a thousand years and I'm... No one."
"That is not true."
"It's what you just said. As a matter of fact, it's what you've been saying all along, that the purpose of my baby is to save her father's immortal soul."
"That's not what I–"
"Let me just make one thing very clear for you, Elijah. I'm not letting any of you take this baby away from me, I don't care what noble reason you might have," Caroline says looking him dead in the eye with a kind of ferocity he hadn't seen in her before. A mother protecting her child. "You're gonna have to kill me first."
With that, she releases the seat belt and steps out of the car, storming off into the house.
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Klaus watches from the window as Elijah parks the car in front of the house. Took them long enough. He was beginning to wonder if they were ever coming home, or if he'd never see his brother and the mother of his child again.
Truth be told, it wasn't a possibility he'd considered when he bit Elijah and left him to waste away in the Bayou. But as time went by and there was no news from them, Klaus began to worry. His concern, however, didn't make him feel sorry; it just made him angrier. No doubt Elijah took the opportunity to spend some time with Caroline, being at the center of her undivided attention as they shared their antipathy for the bastard brother.
It takes them a while to climb out of the car. He can't really see or hear them from where he is, but his mind is quick to populate the blank space with colorful and revolting imagery. They're holding hands. Discussing how they're going to tell Klaus that something happened while they were stranded in the swamp. That they've decided to leave the house, find somewhere else for just the two of them, away from his toxic influence. Kissing.
His blood is already boiling in his veins when Caroline finally comes out, but she doesn't look happy at all. Quite the opposite. She seems grated, slamming the door behind her and stomping her way to the house, not waiting for Elijah to follow.
Klaus smiles in spite of himself. He feels no mirth, but for once he's glad to be wrong about something.
"Elijah is home and there's only one dagger," Rebekah says. He was paying so much attention to the scene unfolding outside he didn't notice his sister swift approach. He can, however, feel her apprehension even with his back turned to her. His eyes move down to the silver dagger in his hands. "Which one of us will you be punishing today?"
Tough question, indeed. He's been asking himself the exact same thing. If Elijah had made a move on Caroline, he's certain which one he'd be feeling most incline to dagger this evening. But since he apparently didn't — and has, somehow, managed to make her upset — well... It's all open.
"I've contemplated a game of eeny, meeny, miny, moe," he says, turning his face to glance at Rebekah from over his shoulder. Her face twists in indignation — how can she really think she still has the right to be angry here when she has literally aided Marcel in ambushing him?
Before she can offer her scant excuses and attempt to pathetically turn this on him again, Klaus flashes to her, grabbing her from behind and touching the dagger to her neck.
"You betrayed me," he seethes. The words feel lodged in his throat, clawing out of his mouth. It hurts to say it out loud. "My own sister."
"Niklaus, don't you dare."
Oh. Yes. The virtuous brother returns.
Klaus releases Rebekah, turning around to face Elijah with the dagger pointed towards him. "Perhaps it should be you then, brother. Stealing my child away with every fawning moment of tenderness you show Caroline."
"This has nothing to do with Caroline."
"It has everything to do with her!" Klaus bellows, the bitterness he feels in his chest bleeding into his voice, his eyes prickling with unwelcome tears. "Since the day she arrived, you've been on your absolute best behavior, hiding behind that mask of integrity, and she's adored you. You knew how I felt about her. And now my child, my blood, will grow up to call you father!"
Elijah's eyebrows snap together as he shakes his head. "Can you even hear the absurd you're saying?"
"Is that what this is?" Rebekah asks, her voice breaking as her eyes fill with tears. "You are once again worried that you'll be left behind? Has history taught you nothing? We don't abandon you, Nik. You drive us away."
Klaus feels as the worst of his anger abandons his body, leaving only a terrible sorrow in its wake. He puts down his arm. "What have I done lately, other than cooperate?" he asks. "I bowed down to you, brother, to make up for daggering you, for the greater good of our plan to reclaim our home. Looked the other way, sister, while you repeat the same cycle with Marcel, falling again for a man you shouldn't be with while he controls the empire that we built. That he took!" He stops, calming himself so he won't start yelling again before continuing. "Now I make no excuses for past sins, but in the one moment when you two could've chosen to stand by me, to believe in me, believe my intentions were pure, you chose to stand against me, to take what I wanted and side with my enemies."
It's only as he speaks that Klaus realizes what the source of all his turmoil truly is. His siblings have abandoned him when he needed them the most. Maybe not physically, but they were so quick to withdraw their support, to the point Rebekah was even willing to have him put down by whatever means necessary. And Elijah... He didn't think twice before accusing him of wanting to harm his own child. Caroline's mistrust is no less harmful than Elijah's, but Klaus can understand where it comes from. Her history with the Lockwood boy was altogether dictated by Klaus' obsession with siring himself an army of hybrids. But his brother shouldn't put Tyler Lockwood's word before his. He should know better.
Klaus doesn't claim to be perfect. Far from it. He's made too many mistakes in the past few months, since this whole baby havoc started. But can't they see he's trying? Can't they understand that it has affected him, just as it has affected Caroline? Why do they expect her to react badly, to the point she tried to get an abortion without telling anyone, but not him? Why would Rebekah and Elijah ever bloody think that Klaus would wake up one day all set to become a father? He's never wanted this. But he is trying. His family should offer him support; instead, they turn their backs on him.
And then they ask themselves why he doesn't trust anyone.
"I wanted our home back. Now I have it. So I'm going to live there," he announces, walking to Elijah and looking him straight in the eye as he puts the silver dagger in his hand. "You two can stay here together and rot."
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"It has everything to do with her! Since the day she arrived, you've been on your absolute best behavior, hiding behind that mask of integrity, and she's adored you. You knew how I felt about her. And now my child, my blood, will grow up to call you father!"
Caroline feels her heart clench at Klaus' troubled accusation.
He's so wrong he doesn't even know it. So taken with jealousy and hurt that he can't even see how absurd what he's saying is. How so very little connection to reality it has. Their child, growing up to call Elijah father? Where the hell did he get that from?
It's sheer paranoia, and the very reason behind everything that's been wrong with Klaus since Caroline arrived in New Orleans. But for some reason, instead of feeling angry or outraged, she feels... Sad.
Even if he's going about this completely wrong, even if he's turning on Elijah when his brother's done absolutely nothing, Caroline realizes that what's motivating his outburst is fear. Klaus never wanted this child, and she still has no idea how he feels about it because he won't talk to her like a normal person, but this tells her that, at some point, he's started to think of himself as a father. Or at least as someone who's going to have a child, which is an entirely different thing. And as with everything else in his life, the second something manages to get his guard down, he becomes mad with fear of losing it. Now he's scared he'll lose his own daughter before he's even ready to accept his role as a dad.
If he'd only communicate with her, then he would know how crazy this assumption is. Then again, the Mikaelson way has rubbed off on her as well. She hasn't been the best at translating her feelings either — unless it's anger or annoyance or indignation. That she's been stellar at. It's the rest that is complicated. Klaus thinks he's the only one struggling with impending parenthood. He hasn't got a clue.
Caroline knew he'd be in one of his moods when they came home, but she wanted to let the siblings have a moment before she got sucked into the mayhem. They had things to sort out between themselves and her presence would only make it worse. So she stayed back, but paying attention. If Klaus tried to do anything, she'd stop him, even if she had to use magic. It would be a good lesson on how to solve his problems through honest conversations rather than jumping straight to aggression.
What she wasn't expecting, however, was for Rebekah to add to Klaus' misery while they were gone. She has no idea what the youngest Mikaelson did, but by the sounds of it, it was worse than Elijah — who didn't really do anything, except in Klaus' lunatic head.
She stands outside the room, listening to their conversation — which they weren't even trying to make private, the way they were yelling at each other — ready to barge in, and for a second there she really thought she would've. But then something changes. The ire in Klaus' voice dwindles considerably as it starts to break at the edges. He's not angry anymore; he's heartbroken.
Klaus doesn't help himself or make it easy for anyone to take his side. He's the cause for most of his own problems. But still Caroline finds herself feeling a dash of sympathy. The past 48 hours of her life would make any normal person snap, but as hard as it was on her, and as entitled to her rancor as she feels she is, she wasn't the only one caught in the torment. Klaus was there, too. Things have been tough for everyone.
"I wanted our home back. Now I have it. So I'm going to live there. You two can stay here together and rot."
What?
Klaus is leaving?
Caroline starts for the door, but before she can enter the room, he steps out, nearly bumping into her. His dark eyes are blazing when he sets them upon her, perhaps a little overbright, and Caroline's certain she sees a flash of hurt there before something in them slides down.
"Where are you going?" she asks, trying to keep the abrupt wave of despair that washed over her off her voice, but failing.
"Home," he says, drily. "And you're coming with me."
"Why?"
"Because, Caroline, you-" he starts, stops, seems to ponder over what he wants to say. "You and that child you're carrying are the only things on earth that matter to me. Now, you can fight me on this, but you will lose. As will anyone else who tries to stop you from getting in the car," he speaks loudly, turning his face back towards the room where Elijah and Rebekah are surely paying attention to their conversation.
Caroline feels a bit of a pang somewhere. Klaus finally seems to be ready to take some responsibility as a parent, which is what she's always wanted since her very first day in New Orleans. But he's doing it all wrong, trying to cut off all ties to Elijah and Rebekah and isolating the two of them. Part of her doesn't want to go with him. She doesn't think he should be alone at the high of his insanity, but she also doesn't want to be the one to handle all that on her own.
Elijah is the one who's supposed to serve as Klaus' balance. She's pregnant, for goodness' sake. She's got enough on her plate with her baby's father spiraling out of control.
But his voice is so fierce and she is so exhausted that she doesn't even try to argue. Caroline just doesn't have the fire to fight Klaus. Besides... Putting her foot down right now will probably only make things worse.
So, instead, she just says, "Fine," completely devoid of emotion, and marches out of the house and straight to Klaus' SUV.
She told herself she would do anything so her daughter wouldn't have to grow up like she did, rejected by her father. But something tells her that maybe having mommy and daddy living together under the same roof may be slightly overrated.
This definitely doesn't feel like the happy family of her dreams.
TBC
I know what some of you are thinking, because I was thinking it too. "Where's my KC?" I know. This chapter feels a bit filler-y because the episode feels a bit filler-y, but I couldn't just skip it altogether because a lot of very important things for the continuation of the story happen here. I'd be willing to bribe you with a quicker update if you're interested, but you have to let me know. If not enough people are reading or interested, I'll just update regularly.
Either way, looking forward to your thoughts on the developments on this chapter! Thanks very much for reading!