The Wolf

by yokan87

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

14. S01E14: Le Grand Guignol

A/N: So I really did decide to put two chapters together in order to make the story more dynamic. Certain things that work well on TV don't work so well on a written story. So this chapter is a combination of episodes 14 (Long Way Back From Hell) and 15 (Le Grand Guignol). I decided to name it after the second because I feel it's the most significant one. I hope it doesn't feel confusing or rushed.

As always, I have to thank coveredinthecolors for being super kind to take her time to read through two chapters in just one week. If you still find any mistakes there, they're all my own and I apologize beforehand.

Thank you so much to everyone still reading this story, especially to the incredibly kind folks who stop by to chat on tumblr or drop me their comments here. You guys rock and are the true reason I'm putting so much effort into moving forward with this asap. ❤

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The sky is still dark when Caroline's eyes fly open, sleep lifting off her body all at once like a blanket that's been suddenly removed.

She rolls over and takes the phone on the nightstand to check the time. Less than three hours of sleep. It seems about right; she doesn't feel rested at all.

Caroline didn't even want to take three hours to restore. If it was up to her, she would've started searching for Klaus and Rebekah straight away, but Elijah insisted that she should replenish her energies before pouring all the little strength she still had into using her powers. As much as she objected on principle, he made some valid points.

It wasn't so much for her sake that she agreed to lie down for a bit, though. It was for the baby. If she says the ridiculous amount of stress she's been put under hasn't taken a toll on her, it'll be a blatant lie. Twice she felt a stab of pain in her lower belly that sent little alarm bells ringing. It wasn't the same as when the baby hits a particularly sensitive spot with her tiny potent kicks or even the sore muscles she gets after tiring days. This was... Different. Not yet worrisome, she wouldn't say, but enough to give her pause.

Caroline brushed it off as her body telling her that she needs to take a serious break from near-death experiences, but the truth is... She was a little bit shaken. It could be a number of things, including nothing at all, but with Klaus and Rebekah missing, she simply doesn't have time to find out, make sure everything's fine. She didn't tell Elijah, obviously; he'd tie her to a bed, lock her up and compel an entire medical staff to come fix her. But she couldn't exactly rebuke him when he insisted that she needed the break. He had no idea how true that was.

She doesn't feel like it did much for her, but she hopes it was at least enough for the baby's healing powers to kick in. Three hours is as much sleep as her high-strung brain would allow, even after a powered up chamomile tea, but it'll have to do for now. When this is all over and Klaus and Rebekah are safely returned, the first thing she'll do is see a doctor.

And anyway — lingering exhaustion aside, everything feels normal. No pain, no bleeding, no other symptoms... The baby is even kicking a little. It's not entirely reassuring, but it's enough to calm her down.

The whole time she was asleep, Caroline had vivid, troubled dreams. At first, it was just her in the fire. She was trapped in the house while everything around her exploded in flames. She tried to scream, but her voice wouldn't come out. She tried to run, but her legs wouldn't move. And then Klaus showed up, walking out of the fire all beaten and bloodied, a hole the size of a fist where his heart should be. He looked straight at her, his eyes bright gold but filled with disappointment. You couldn't save me, Caroline, he said. And you couldn't let Elijah do it either. How do you expect me to save you now?

She startled awake twice with a lump in her throat, sweat running down her forehead and a fright in her heart that she would never see Klaus again. And that she was to blame for it.

After Elijah explained how Celeste engineered her whole plan, Caroline couldn't help but feel responsible. She made it so easy for the witches, running off to the plantation house, not checking to make sure it was safe, fully trusting that all the werewolves there were part of Jackson's pack and as well-intentioned as him. After nearly seven months of this, she should've known better.

Bill Forbes's voice has been booming nonstop inside her head. Worthless. A waste of magic. The biggest disappointment of my life. Last night, she was everything he always thought of her. A better witch would've figured out a way to break out of the house on her own, without the need of a rescuer. A better witch wouldn't even get caught in that trap to begin with. But Caroline panicked. Again, fear got the best of her, made her paralyzed. Just as it did with Damon and while her father tortured her.

Elijah's so heartbroken... She could see it in his eyes, amidst the anger and the thirst for revenge, the guilt. He thinks he's the one who screwed up. But if he hadn't had to save her, if he could trust that she would've made it out of there on her own, he could've saved his siblings. He shouldn't have had to choose her.

Caroline hates to feel this fragile, this powerless. Years ago, she swore to herself that she would never be made to feel this way again. Fear is useless. It's counter-productive. And probably something the witches appreciate a lot. The more terrified she gets, the more in control they feel.

Enough, Caroline tells herself as she gets out of bed. Every muscle in her body screams, bone-weary and tense, but she refuses to let it hinder her. Bill Forbes was never right, about anything, and she's not going to fail her daughter like her father failed her. Caroline's had enough of people underestimating her, belittling her. She'll find Klaus and Rebekah if she has to scour this entire city, building by building, taking down every single witch who dares to get in her way.

She takes a cold shower to wake herself up and lines her stomach with a glass of warm milk because it's all she can hold down. And then she gets to work.

Caroline goes into Klaus' room and takes one of his necklaces and then she goes through Rebekah's jewelry box and picks a hairpin that looks as expensive and old as it is beautiful. That's the starting point for her locator spells.

She tries five different types, and when none of them seem to work, she flips through grimoire after grimoire in search of new ones. It all fails.

Of course she expected them to be cloaked. Celeste wouldn't go through all that trouble and then give up their location by not taking such basic precautions, knowing that Caroline would be right there with Elijah, trying to find them. But there has to be a way to break through it.

"Come on, baby girl. Mommy needs you," she mutters, trying to channel the baby to power up her spell.

Caroline concentrates really hard, to the point she can almost feel the magic oozing out of her, a strange kind of static in the air. But not even that seems to be enough.

Disappointment. A waste of magic.

She slams her fists down on the table, spilling all the dirt she was using on her spell, stifling a frustrated grunt.

"Nothing yet?"

Caroline raises her head to see Elijah standing by the door.

She shakes her head, her nostrils flaring as she slumps back against the chair. "It's like they've vanished. I even tried a larger map. Not even the extra battery here is enough to uncloak them," she says, placing a hand on top of her belly. "Better luck at the cemetery?"

"None," Elijah says around a tired sigh. While Caroline's had at least a few short hours of sleep, however restless they might have been, he's had zero. There's a world of difference between the needs of her very human pregnant body and his, but weariness is showing on every line of Elijah's face. "I got word that there was a witch commotion of some sort there and thought it would be a good opportunity to snap some uncooperative necks."

"And?"

"I snapped the necks, but it gave me no answers. I did, however, uncover a disturbing bit of news."

Caroline's face scrunches up into a grimace; she's already dreading what he's going to say. "Please. I can't take bad news anymore."

"Sophie Deveraux is dead."

She stills, her lips parting in shock. "What?"

"The commotion was her consecration. Her niece, Monique, was there, apparently in charge of the ceremony and not the least bit distraught over the loss of her beloved aunt."

Caroline is pervaded by a strong sense of grief she would not expect to feel for someone like Sophie Deveraux. In a way, every terrible thing that's happened in the last six months started with her. But strangely enough, she never really hated Sophie for it. She never meant for Caroline or the baby to get hurt, however naive she might've been in thinking that she had everything under control. Sophie had no idea what she was stirring when she brought Klaus back to New Orleans; her plot put something much bigger than herself in motion. But now that Caroline thinks about it... It was Sabine's vision of her baby what prompted Sophie and Jane-Anne to come up with that plan. Celeste used their despair to manipulate them just as she's done to everyone else. Sophie was yet another pawn in Celeste's revenge.

Of all the people who have pissed her off or endangered her or her child since she got in New Orleans, Sophie is definitely the last person Caroline would've wanted to see dead. Despite everything, she was something of an ally, even if a reluctant one. Unreliable, sure, but they could at least trust her not to try to kill them. Given the current backdrop of New Orleans, that's saying a lot.

"How did she die?" she asks.

"A casualty of war, was Monique's explanation. Lukewarm at best for someone who just lost her last living relative."

"Am I crazy for feeling sorry?"

"I'm not exactly exultant about it myself."

"She was our only ally in the middle of those snakes."

"Or the only one with a shred of conscience left in her. It might be what got her murdered, in the end." Elijah blows out a breath. "Where is Marcel?"

"Out looking for them. I spoke to him an hour ago, still nothing. No one's seen anything." Caroline's eyebrows pinch at the center as she shakes her head. "I have no clue what they could possibly want to do with two indestructible immortals."

"Nothing good, I assure you. Celeste is doing this because she blames Niklaus for her death two hundred years ago and me for not avenging it. It's my fault it got this far."

"My fault, you mean," she mutters resentfully, getting that choked up feeling in her throat again. "If I had known Celeste was going to make you choose between your family and me—"

"Caroline," Elijah chides, a steely edge on his voice. "It's not your fault. This grudge has been dragging on for hundreds of years. You were going to die in that fire and so was my brother's child because that's exactly what Celeste wanted to happen. She wanted to hurt Niklaus and she wanted to hurt me. There was no choice. If I hadn't gone for you, my brother would never forgive me."

"Well. Now you might never have the chance to ask for forgiveness."

Caroline looks down at the map in front of her, at the useless spell that just won't work, and feels her fragile calm exploding into nerves. A snarl rips from her chest, and all the objects on the table go flying in the air, the grimoire she'd been consulting nearly hitting Elijah.

"I'm sorry," she grumbles, burying her face in her hands. "I hate to feel this powerless."

"I know," Elijah croons gently. "But we have to keep trying."

Caroline looks up at Elijah, a quiet understanding hanging between them. She clenches her fists tightly, her face setting to determination. "Ok," she speaks after a moment. "We're gonna power up this spell."

"How?"

"By channeling something extremely powerful." She gives Elijah a meaningful look, and he immediately understands.

"Will it work?"

"I don't know. Cloaking spells are tricky and they depend a lot on how powerful the witch that cast it is. I have a feeling Celeste has been hiding her game, but there aren't many things in this world more powerful than an Original vampire and a hybrid baby."

"Where do you need me?"

"Sit down," Caroline commands, bobbing her head towards the vacant spot right across from her while she gets up to retrieve a few objects. She gets the map she sent flying a moment before, a bowl and a dagger, then returns to her place, smoothing out the map in front of her.

"What is that for?" Elijah asks, his eyes on the dagger.

"Blood." She cuts the palm of her hand open and lets the blood ooze into the bowl with barely a flinch. Then she passes him the dagger and waits until he does the same, mixing it up a little before dropping the blood in the middle of the map. "Give me your hands," she says, putting her own out for him to hold. "This is going to take a very strong connection. I need you to focus. Think about your siblings, the strongest memory you have of them. The strongest feeling. It'll help guide the spell. And whatever you do, Elijah, do not let go of my hand. Understood?" He gives the barest of nods.

Caroline closes her eyes, inhaling deeply before she begins with the chanting, words coming to her lips like a song. Her magic roars through her, stronger than ever as she taps into Elijah's power, connecting it with her own and the baby's, making it a single force that cannot be stopped. She directs it all towards the map, focusing so it is the only thing she sees in her mind.

And slowly but surely, the blood pools and then starts to move.

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

The whole world has been reduced to undecipherable shades of grey. All around him, shadows have come alive, dancing between light and darkness, sinister and threatening. There's a heavy weight in his chest, something sharp and cold, sinking him down. It's crushing his lungs, making it hard to breathe, but try as he might to gasp for air, he can't.

Drowning. This feels like drowning.

Every time he tries to move, it sends a shock of pain like a wave traveling across his entire body, but none of his muscles respond to his commands. It hurts so badly, like being torn apart from the inside out.

His mind is a nebulous blur. He doesn't know where he is, or what is happening to him. It's hard to even follow any trains of thought. All he knows is pain and cold and agony. In some far corner of his head, he vaguely wonders if this is death.

A shadow moves closer to him. Too close. It reaches out, touches him. He can feel it. It burns his skin as though setting him on fire, every inch of him screaming in pain as something slides down his torso. Still, he cannot move.

And in the middle of all the pain and the feverish nightmare, there's a voice.

"You poor thing," it says. "Don't worry. I'm here to help."

Something sharp and cold touches his stomach, and then slices him open. The next thing, his entire body starts convulsing, his muscles cramping up violently as a roar rips from his chest. It's like coming up for air after hours, eons, under the cold, dark water. The world goes blindingly white, so bright it burns his eyes. Slowly, however, his vision flickers back.

The shadow he saw is a woman. Long red hair, icy cobalt eyes, a smirk on her lips. Her hand is covered in blood — his blood — and she's holding something.

Papa Tunde's blade.

The pain in Klaus' torso is almost too much for him to bear, and when he looks down he realizes there's a hole the size of a fist right under his chest. It's where the blade was. It slowly starts to come back, flashes of memory trickling in bit by bit.

He dragged Monique Deveraux all the way to Jackson Square, threatened to kill her if the three remaining resurrected witches didn't show their faces. Marcel tried to stop him. "I won't let you kill a child, Klaus!" he screamed. Klaus didn't care. He was going to get every last one of them down if that's what it took to keep Caroline safe. They were threatening his family, and they would never stop coming. But then...

It gets hazy.

The witches came. Dozens of them. And while Klaus wrestled Marcel, one of them stabbed him.

Sophie Deveraux. Yes, he remembers her face.

He remembers the pain. After that, everything's darkness. Until now.

Sophie must have stabbed him with Tunde's blade. And it remained inside of him until this woman ripped it out with her own hand. It kept him down, trapped in a state of feverish, semi-conscious torment.

Klaus is breathing hard, snarling like an animal. He tries to move, but his hands are tied. He's weak. Too weak to break free, too weak to even try to stand.

"I'll take care of that for you," the woman says, her voice smooth as silk.

She leans over and undoes the ties on both his wrists. Klaus balls his hands into white-knuckled fists at his sides, but the slightest bit of movement sends a vivid ache shooting through him. The wound isn't healing.

The woman steps away for a moment and returns with a bowl. "This will help you feel better," she says, a smile flickering over her lips.

Klaus hisses as she spreads a cold ointment over his torso. "I'm gonna need you to sit up now," she says, sliding a hand underneath him to push him up. He groans loudly, but doesn't protest. "That's good," she murmurs encouragingly. She wraps his midsection with gauze, and when she's done, she helps him slide back into his shirt. Even lifting his arms is strenuous.

"Why isn't my wound healing?" he asks, his voice dry and brittle.

"The amount of dark magic contained in that blade? It's gonna take a little while."

"You're one of them, aren't you?" He swallows past the rawness in his throat. Even speaking causes him pain. He's never felt anything like the power of this blade before. "The witches back from the dead, seeking vengeance. Why show me kindness?"

The woman looks at him with something akin to sympathy, cupping his face with her hands, tracing small patterns with the tips of her fingers. Her touch is warm and gentle and, after all that torture, somewhat of a relief.

"You never did anything to me," she says, leaning over him. "And the truth is, seeing you like this... I can't help but pity you."

"Then betray the others and stand with me," he says, sensing an opportunity. His mind is still wildly out of focus, but he hears her heart picking up as she comes closer. Her breath hitching when he holds her gaze. There's certainly a purpose behind what she's doing, but she's not entirely impervious to his charms, however impaired he might be at the moment. "I will reward you," he continues, flashing his dimples. "In ways you cannot possibly fathom."

The witch's face breaks into a satisfied smile. "Klaus Mikaelson, offering a deal to little ol' me? I should be flattered. But first..." She comes so close now he can feel her breath on his skin. "We need to have a talk about your sister."

The woman moves away, and Klaus exhales in annoyance, his temper fraying. "Rebekah is of no concern to you. If you mean to harm her -"

"Ah, the protective brother." She sighs. " Your devotion to your family is touching, Klaus. Did you know your brother Elijah was offered a chance to help one of you last night? Can you guess who he went to?"

It takes him but a second to read the malice on the woman's voice. But instead of feeling jealous, Klaus is awash with rage. They didn't just go for him and his siblings; they went for Caroline too.

"Caroline," he grits out.

The witch chuckles. "He's the fairy tale prince type, Elijah. Didn't even flinch before rushing to her rescue. He certainly cares a lot about her. I can see why. She's lovely. While you and your sister were brought here, Elijah gallantly jumped through a window to save her from a house in flames. There's something so... Romantic about it."

He grinds his teeth together furiously, his eyes flashing. "If you hurt Caroline–"

"Don't worry. She's safe and sound, in the arms of your brother. It's a shame your loyalty to your family isn't reciprocated. Then again, I'm no stranger to Rebekah's treachery myself. Something you and I have in common."

She approaches him again with another bowl in her hands. "Here. Drink this." It smells faintly like blood, but there's something else to it. He looks suspiciously at the witch. "I'm just trying to help you. Heal you. Get you to see the truth that's been right in front of you for almost a century."

Klaus knows this is some kind of trap, but part of him is curious. He can't understand what this is all about. They stabbed him, but set him free. She could've let him agonize while the wound heals, but she eased away his pain. Are they trying to distract him? Use him? Strike a deal of some sort? If he's to fight these resurrected witches, he needs to figure out what they want.

So when she pushes the bowl against his lips, he doesn't resist. It's blood, indeed, but laced with venom. Klaus chokes on it, feeling it go down his throat like hot sand. The witch puts her palm on his mouth and pushes his head back to keep him from spitting it all out.

"Your sister had an unfortunate run in with some werewolves last night," she says. "I imagine you're tasting the venom in her blood. It's unpleasant, but it won't harm you. It's the only way I can show you what you need to see. In her weakened state, I'll be able to guide her down memory lane. That's how I'm going to have my revenge. By showing you her betrayal."

The witch rubs her palms together, chanting something under her breath, and when she touches his forehead, everything goes dark.

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

Niklaus is dancing around the fire, a huge smile plastered on his face. Esther holds his little hands, twirls him around, and he throws his head back in merry laughter. She picks him up, whispering a secret into his ear, and he melts into a fit of giggles. She smacks a kiss on his cheek and puts him back down on the floor.

Elijah knows what she said because Niklaus would later confess to him that their mother would teach him how to win the heart of the prettiest girl in the village. "Father will make me a hunter, but mother will make me a dancer!" he says. "She gave me this." He shows Elijah a necklace around his neck. It has a wooden pendant in the shape of a bird. "She said it'll keep me safe, that I'm supposed to wear it always. Mother thinks I'm special!"

So proud, his brother.

Niklaus was the sweetest boy Elijah's ever met. Adorable with his golden locks, always so dreamy and kind. "Well, I better watch myself, then," Elijah says to him, stroking his hair "It'll be impossible to compete with you!"

A different day. Thunders roar furiously outside; rain pours down mercilessly. It's impossible to sleep with so much noise, but Elijah likes to watch the storm. It has a calming effect on him, not so much on his youngest sibling. Every time lightning strikes, Rebekah winces and gasps, scrunching up her face in fear.

"It's just a storm," Niklaus whispers, crawling over towards her. "Don't be afraid."

"Nik, don't go," she pleads in her tiny little voice as he moves away, but soon he's back, giving her a wooden knight he carved out of white oak.

"I carved it for father," he says, "It's a brave knight. Now you can be brave too."

Rebekah holds the knight close to her heart. "Will you stay with me until the storm ends?"

"I will always stay with you, Rebekah. Always." He takes her hand and lies down next to her. She curls up into him and soon they've both fallen asleep, the storm completely forgotten.

Niklaus and Rebekah were thick as thieves as children. He taught her how to hunt and fish, how to climb trees and use a sword. Their father would be mad in fury whenever he saw Rebekah playing with them, saying she was behaving like a savage and no one would ever want to marry her. He made her stay in the village with the older women, cooking, knitting and washing, never took her with them as they went into the woods. But despite her romantic heart, their sister never had any interest in being anyone's wife. She wanted to be her own person. Elijah, Finn and Kol were too scared of Mikael, too respectful of his authority. And so was Niklaus. But he loved Rebekah more than he feared Mikael's fury. And he always paid for it.

No, Elijah will not think of these times. He wants happy memories. Good memories. Niklaus' carefully crafted gifts. Rebekah's laughter.

How long has it been since they started this spell? It feels like forever.

He's scanned his brain for every bit of memory from their childhood, before bloodlust and darkness, before they were turned into beasts. But it hasn't been enough yet.

Caroline's squeezing his hand with such fierceness his fingers have gone dormant. A little bit more and she'll break his bones. He had no idea she had this kind of strength. She told him not to let go, and he hasn't, but, although he can feel something is happening, he doesn't know what. Her chanting started low and soft, but her voice is escalated since, each word pronounced with such fervor it's as though she's commanding magic to answer her.

Elijah opens his eyes to spy on their progress with the map. The blood she spilled is moving, indeed, but painfully slowly. It's pointing towards a place outside the French Quarter.

He raises his eyes to her, and it gives him pause. Caroline's nose is bleeding profusely, blood running down her face as though she's been punched. Her face is creased in concentration, a determined frown between her closed eyes, beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

This is leaving her drained. She's pouring all her energy, all her magic, into breaking through the cloaking spell concealing his siblings, and the strain shows on her face.

"Caroline," he calls, gently. She doesn't stop. If she hears him, she simply ignores it. "Caroline, you're bleeding. You have to stop."

Elijah knows she can't go on for much longer. The hemorrhage is getting worse. It's too much.

He tries to pull his hand free to break the channeling, but her grip tightens painfully. Her eyes fly open, and Elijah is taken aback by how they sparkle in gold, as if she were a werewolf. He thought he'd seen it before, but chalked it up as a trick of the light. Now it's crystal clear.

"Don't you dare let go," she grits out, immediately shutting her eyes again as she carries on with the spell.

Elijah can't go back to his memories, though. Not when Caroline looks like she's about to pass out at any minute. He's torn between concern and how desperately he wants to find his siblings. It's clear her spell is working, but at what cost? If she continues this for much longer...

Marcel walks in, exchanging a look with Elijah before approaching to peer at the map, the blood still slowly coursing its way on the paper. Something flashes across his eyes, his lips twitching nervously before he presses them tightly, and then moves away.

Caroline picks up the chanting yet again, her voice coarse and angry. A wind sweeps in all of a sudden, putting out the candles and forcing both Elijah and Marcel to turn their faces away. Then Caroline howls, letting go of Elijah's hands. The wind stops, the spell breaks.

"What is it?" Elijah asks, jumping from his seat. "Are you all right?"

She swallows down, her breath ragged, and then nods. "The baby kicked," she says, looking up at him with her clear blue eyes. Then she turns to the map. "It worked. The spell was completed. This is their location." She frowns. "Where is that?"

Elijah searches for Marcel. He's standing by the window, visibly agitated.

"Marcellus," he draws his name out as a warning. Marcel sighs, approaching again and taking a good look at the map in front of Caroline.

"That's the sanatorium," he says. "That's where you'll find them."

Elijah narrows his eyes suspiciously. "There's something you're not telling us."

"Marcel," Caroline says, pushing up the chair to look him square in the eye, her face still covered in blood. Elijah hands her the linen handkerchief from his pocket. "Klaus and Rebekah are suffering right now."

He takes a few steps away, scrubbing a hand across his face before turning back to face them. "If I'm right," he starts. "You need to know exactly what we're walking into. I had a suspicion why they might've taken the two of them. And now that we know where they were taken... I'm almost certain I was right."

Caroline folds her arms across her chest, a stern look on her face. "Start talking."

"We did something, Rebekah and I. A hundred years ago. I think the witches are trying to use it against her, to pit her against Klaus. It's... Something you're not going to like."

"Marcellus," Elijah admonishes.

His eyes flicker away as he draws a breath in. "In 1919, Rebekah and I wanted to be together, but your brother wouldn't allow it. We'd been in love for ages, and tried to reason with him anyway we could. He refused to give us his blessing, spoke as though a relationship between us was a personal attack on him, a betrayal. We were always looking over our shoulders, afraid of our own shadows. You and your brother had the city on the palm of your hands. We knew it wouldn't be long before we got found out. And Rebekah... She lost decades of her life trapped in a box because of that. She didn't want to be daggered again, not to mention she was afraid of what he would do to me. Not all the love in the world would keep him from killing me. So... She came up with a plan. Something that would scare him away, force him to leave New Orleans, so we could finally be together."

Elijah cannot believe his ears... After centuries and centuries of success, 1919 was the year Mikael finally found them. Elijah never understood what tipped him off. No one in New Orleans knew of their father. As far as they knew, he was still scouring Europe after his children. No word had gotten out that they were in America. Klaus hadn't been out of control in decades. Everything was fine. They were finally, finally happy.

And then everything changed...

"You didn't," Elijah grumbles, a bubble of anger forming at the pit of his stomach.

"What?" Caroline asks, confused. "What did you do?"

"We enlisted the help of a witch Rebekah worked with during the war. They were both nurses at the sanatorium. Her name was Genevieve. She used a spell to send a note... To your father."

"Oh fuck," Caroline grunts, her eyes widening as comprehension downs on her. "You called Mikael? You? And Rebekah? All those sad stories Klaus had been reminiscing about since he came back to New Orleans... It was you?!"

"We changed our minds pretty quickly," Marcel offers as means of justification. "I didn't fully understand what it meant at the time. We realized it was wrong, that we'd done something terrible. Rebekah tried to get Genevieve to undo the spell, but... It was too late. So instead, we had to erase our tracks. Make sure no one would ever find out what we'd done."

"So you killed the messenger," Caroline completes, shaking her head in disbelief.

"She was going to tell Klaus the truth. Genevieve had... A thing for him, I don't know. She thought if she came clean, he would be merciful. But Rebekah knew better. Anyone who knows Klaus, knows better."

"For the better part of a century, I have wondered how my father found us," Elijah starts in a deceptively calm voice. "What foolish mistake we had made to destroy our time in the one place we'd ever found happiness in. Did you know, Marcellus, I even blamed myself for a time?"

All those years he spent on his own, not knowing what had happened to Niklaus and Rebekah after they split up. He went back to Europe, hoping Mikael would follow him there and leave the other two alone. With loneliness and a terrible guilt as his only company, Elijah spent many nights awake, mulling over the terrible conclusion of their time in New Orleans. He blamed himself so much he couldn't face his family. And while he stayed away, Niklaus spiraled out of control yet again. The next time Elijah met him, he was no longer the same man he'd been until 1919. All that hope they'd built over years and years, all that light, had gone out. He became ruthless, brutal, at his absolute worst. Finding the moonstone and the doppelganger became his sole obsession. And whilst he pursued his goal of breaking the curse their mother placed upon him, he daggered Rebekah and left all of their siblings to rot in storages across the world, telling Elijah he'd finished them all for good.

Elijah hated himself almost as much as he hated Niklaus. His sweet Rebekah... Kol, so wicked, but so full of life. And even Finn, who they hadn't seen alive in 900 years. Elijah's dream of one day having his family together again, destroyed by the corruption of Niklaus' soul.

He gave up on his brother. Accepted there was no way to bring him back after the murder of their family. All Elijah wanted was to find the doppelganger before he did, so he could kill Niklaus in the one moment when he'd become vulnerable, during the transition. And he almost did it. He was ready to. It would've been the death of his soul, the end of his humanity. Perhaps in killing his own brother, he would've unleashed another monster into the world, the one inside himself. But in that moment he didn't care.

How close they came to complete destruction... How close Elijah was to finishing his own family... And it all started back in 1919, when Mikael came to New Orleans and burned down their dreams.

Blind rage rolls through Elijah like a wave, a grunt ripping from his throat, and suddenly he has his hands around Marcel's neck, squeezing his windpipe with his fingers as he smashes him back against the wall. "Niklaus treated you like a son," he snarls. "Rebekah -"

"I loved her," he grunts out, his voice only above a breath. "I still love her. All we wanted was to be together, but as long as Klaus was around, it was never gonna happen. I guess you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

The challenge in his voice makes Elijah's blood boil, and he tightens his grip, longing to hear the crack as the bones in his neck snap. Who does he think he is to imply that Elijah would ever be as malign as he and Rebekah were?

"Elijah." Caroline's pleading voice breaks through the turmoil in his head, and he pauses. With a distasteful grunt, he drops Marcel.

"When Niklaus learns the truth, there will be no end to his rage," he says, fixing Marcel with a scorching glare. "I will not let my sister suffer his wrath, but I will do nothing for you."

Marcel straightens up his posture, rubbing the spot on his neck Elijah had been gripping. "Then we need to get to them before he learns the truth."

As much as he would love to teach Marcel a lesson or two, he's right. And he's going to need assistance to get Niklaus and Rebekah out of that sanatorium safely.

They start for the door, but Elijah whips around when Caroline follows. Before he can say anything, though, she speaks first. "I'm coming with you."

"Caroline, you've just exerted yourself with that spell. We don't know what we're going to find there, what other terrible punishments these witches might have planned. I'm not letting you get hurt as well."

She presses her lips together, her eyes flashing golden again as a look of determination sets on her face. "Those witches have done nothing but threaten me since the day they dragged me here. You are completely out of your mind if you think I am going to sit back and wait while the father of my child is in their hands."

Caroline pushes him out of the way and storms off. Elijah sighs. He would rather not have her anywhere near the witches. It could be yet another trap. But he cannot blame her for wanting to fight. After everything she's been through, it's only natural.

He exchanges an awkward look with Marcel. "Did you see her eyes?"

Elijah simply ignores the question. "Anything happens to her, Marcellus, and I will personally blame it on you."

With that, he follows Caroline to the car. He can only hope that two vampires and a witch powered on werewolf blood is enough to take their enemies down.

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

The trumpets blast loud to the tune of ragtime music.

The place is packed. People dancing, chattering, drinking. The very air thrums with joyful energy. It's a memory, Klaus realizes. But not one of his own. He went to many, many parties such as this one. As a matter of fact, he was usually the one hosting them. But this isn't the compound. It looks more like... Rousseau's. Or what Rousseau's looked like a hundred years ago.

"Get it while you can! It's the last real gin in the city."

The familiar voice cuts through the noise and catches his attention. Klaus sees Rebekah, resplendent in a pearly dress. She picks her way through the crowd to a table and is joined by...

Klaus narrows his eyes. It's the witch. Her hair is curled into an elegant do and she looks beautiful in a dark dress. This is her memory.

"You're nothing like I thought you would be when I first met you," she tells Rebekah. "I was brought up to think your kind were..." She smiles nervously. "Well..."

"An abomination of nature?" Rebekah offers with a nonchalant shrug.

"You're anything but!" the witch exclaims. "Not just you, your whole family is so..." She trails off as her eyes catch something. Klaus follows her gaze to see Elijah walking in. The witch sighs. "Elegant."

"Yes, I agree," Rebekah says, a proud smile on her red-painted lips. "Elijah is quite peerless."

"I don't know. I mean, he's nice and all, but... If I had to go for one Mikaelson boy..."

"Klaus?" Rebekah asks in disbelief, huffing out a laugh. The witch hides her blushing cheeks behind her glass. Klaus doesn't know why, but he feels a bit of a pang. He's always known Rebekah preferred Elijah, but the way she scoffed just then... Does she really find it so impossible a woman would prefer him over their brother?

"Genevieve, who'd have thought a saintly little witch like you would go for the bad boys? I knew we were destined to be friends," his sister says, a conspiratorial grin on her face.

Genevieve. That's her name, then.

Klaus doesn't remember ever hearing it before, especially not from Rebekah. She was probably not a prominent member of the witch community at the time. He doesn't understand why Rebekah would want to be friends with someone so... low on New Orleans' social scale. His sister was always as much of a snob as himself or Elijah, sometimes more.

"Well, there's a load of us Mikaelsons," Rebekah continues. "If you like bad boys, you'd love my brother Kol."

"And where is this mystery brother of yours?"

The smile on Rebekah's face falters. Kol was very much daggered at the time. "It's complicated," she says. "Like all siblings, we've had our ups and downs. Family feuds."

There's a pause. Genevieve is clearly uncomfortable with the silence, probably thinking she touched a raw nerve by inquiring about Kol. But it's Rebekah's behavior that makes Klaus antsy. She shifts in her seat, looking away, and something in her demeanor changes.

"In fact..." she starts again. "I was thinking of reaching out to someone we haven't seen in a very long while. I was hoping that maybe you could help me contact them. But it would have to be a surprise. No one could know."

"Of course," Genevieve says, smiling again, her blue eyes filled with kindness for her new friend. "Do you want me to find your brother Kol?"

A muscle in Klaus' jaw twitches, his lips pressed together in a tight line. Even before she says anything, Klaus feels anger rising inside.

"Actually I'd like you to find Mikael. Our father."

"Enough of your lies!"

Rebekah's words rattle in his head as he howls in rage. Suddenly, he's back at the old infirmary room, lying on a gurney with his wrists tied.

"Don't dismember the messenger," Genevieve says. "Part of you must have known. Suspected, at least. Your father came to New Orleans in 1919 to kill you, did he not? And as the city burned, he nearly succeeded."

Klaus sits up, grinding his teeth at the witch. She's lucky he's still too weak, or else she would've lost that pretty head of hers already. "My family and I have done some terrible things to each other over the years. But Rebekah would not call my father," he hisses out, his voice cracking up at the end.

The mere thought of Rebekah betraying him in such a vile way is... unfathomable. They're no strangers to heartbreak and treachery. But this... No. His sister would never invite Mikael into their homes to murder him. She hated Mikael, same as all of them. Centuries and centuries they spent together, running away from their father's cruelty.

He shakes his head. "No matter how angry she was, she wouldn't do this."

"It's sweet of you to believe that. To believe in her. But by the time we're done here, you'll know just how wrong you are."

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

The Fleur de Lis sanatorium is enormous. And completely abandoned. Looks like nobody's been there in decades. Not a single light shining anywhere.

"We should split up," she says as they all climb out of Elijah's car. "We'll cover more ground."

"I'm going with you," Elijah says.

Caroline casts him a hard look. "We're splitting up," she repeats, her words clipped and demanding. "Don't waste your time patronizing me when your siblings' lives are on the line. Yell if you find anything. This place is so barren you can probably hear a needle dropping inside. I'll start on the east wing."

She doesn't wait to hear any more objections before she goes in. There's no time.

Her footsteps echo across the empty corridors. There are dozens of rooms, but most of the doors have been ripped off, so she doesn't have to stop on each of them to check. The place is quiet as a tomb. She feels a sullen kind of anticipation swelling inside of her. If they were here, she should be able to hear something. It makes her fear for the worst.

If Marcel is correct, then what the witches want is to rally Klaus against Rebekah by revealing the truth about how Mikael found them in 1919. They don't just want to take revenge on Rebekah or Klaus... They want the family to self-destruct. If Klaus does anything against his sister, Elijah will never forgive him. He might even want retribution. The Mikaelsons will tear at each other's throats. Their unshakable bond will certainly not survive this.

Honestly, Caroline's shocked herself. She doesn't even know the whole story, just bits and pieces she's picked up over time. Even after so many years, Klaus is still reluctant to talk about it, like the wound is still open. New Orleans means a lot to them and it meant a whole lot more a hundred years ago. If Rebekah and Marcel are really responsible for destroying everything... He will never forgive her. Caroline cannot think how anyone will be able to stop him from, at the very least, daggering his sister for the next millennium.

Not even Damon and Stefan hurt each other quite like the Mikaelsons. That is one hell of a complicated family Caroline has inadvertently joined. She'd say she hopes her daughter doesn't take after her father's side, but her family isn't exactly what she'd call a role model either. Baby girl Forbes-Mikaelson will come into this world with quite the baggage.

Caroline stops dead in her tracks when she hears the sound of heels clicking down the hall. It's coming towards her. She waits, ready to knock down whoever it is with the full power of her anger at this whole shitty situation. She sees as the shadow slowly takes shape as it approaches, and then finally stops, close enough that Caroline can see her.

She narrows her eyes at the woman. Tall, slender, long red waves and icy blue eyes.

She smiles at Caroline, her lips twisting into a wicked curve, and Caroline realizes — she's seen this woman before.

At the church.

"You," she breathes.

"It's nice to see you again… Caroline."

"You must be Genevieve," she says curtly.

"Oh! So you know who I am. I'm flattered."

"What have you done to him?" she demands through gritted teeth.

Genevieve shrugs. "Nothing. Just... Helped him see the truth about his siblings. Always and Forever, as it turns out, is more one sided than he thought."

Rage explodes inside of Caroline. With an unnatural kind of speed, she grabs Genevieve by the shoulders and smashes her back against the wall, breathing hot on her face. The witch groans in pain, surprise flickering across her face before the cold mask of superiority slides down.

"Wow," she breathes. "That baby really is special. You have the strength of a werewolf."

"And the anger of an Original hybrid to go with it."

"I have nothing against you, Caroline. You're pregnant with Klaus' child. And you're one of us."

"I am not one of you!"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Does it really look like that's what's about to happen here, you evil bitch?"

"Evil?" Genevieve chuckles. "No, I'm not evil. Unless you think being betrayed and murdered by someone you considered a friend isn't good enough reason to be royally pissed off."

"Do I look like I care? What have you done to them?!"

"I didn't do anything. But while you threaten me, Klaus is out there... Chasing Rebekah."

Reluctantly, Caroline lets go of Genevieve, her eyes flashing. "If anything happens to either one of them—"

"It will be Rebekah's own fault," she says, smoothing down her clothes. "It's about time this family learns some consequences. But don't fret. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again."

With an arrogant smile that doesn't meet the wickedness in her eyes, Genevieve walks away. It takes every ounce of self-control in Caroline's body for her not to wipe that smile off with her fists, but Genevieve is annoyingly right. There are more important things to do right now.

Picking up her pace, Caroline continues her march down the hall, going in the direction Genevieve came from. She pushes through a couple double doors along the way, until she hears a scream. Her blood turns to ice as she recognizes Rebekah's voice.

She rushes towards the sound, all the way to a set of stairs leading to an underground level. Before she can go down, two people flash by her, nearly knocking her off her feet.

"Caroline."

"Rebekah." The Original sister is worse than she's ever seen her — and that includes the times Caroline's seen her with a dagger in her heart. Bloodied, beaten, disheveled. An ashen and sickly aspect to her that Caroline didn't think vampires could ever have. Come to think of it... She reminds Caroline of how Elijah looked after Klaus bit him. She hopes to god Klaus wasn't the one to do this to his own sister...

"We have to go, Rebekah!" Marcel says, grabbing her arm and pulling her along. Then the two of them whoosh away.

The fact Rebekah somehow managed to escape does not make Caroline any more relieved.

She practically jumps down the stairs, to find Elijah cradling his brother's body. A gasp escapes her lips as she approaches the two of them. Klaus' eyes are open, rimmed with tears and unblinking, his lips parted. There's but a single blood stain in the middle of his chest, but no daggers or stakes. She crouches down next to him, touching his forehead, slowly allowing her hands to slide down and search for a pulse. It's weak, but it's there.

She looks up at Elijah. "What happened?"

Elijah swallows, refusing to meet her gaze. He stands to his feet, lifting Klaus in his arms. "Let's take him home," he says gravely.

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

"Papa Tunde's blade is inside of him?"

In the brief years Caroline's known Klaus, she's seen him in varying degrees of vulnerability, but not even at his absolute worst, most desperate moments, he's been anything like this. He looks decrepit and sickly and every once in a while he'll let out a pitiful wail that makes her believe that, on top of everything else, he's also in terrible pain. Alive, but only just; trapped in a weird comma. He's feverish and sweating profusely, but he responds to absolutely nothing.

She lets out a loud horrified gasp when Elijah removes his shirt. There's a line running from his chest to his navel right in the middle of his abdomen. It's not an open wound, but it might as well be. It looks red and infected. Something rotten and noxious that makes the hairs on her arms bristle emanates from the spot, a faint smell of sulfur filling her nostrils. She doesn't think Elijah can pick up on it, but she knows exactly what it is. An impossible amount of dark magic, spreading across Klaus' body like a disease. No wonder he's in so much pain... The mere touch of this thing took down Rebekah.

"Every second it remains causes Niklaus untold suffering," Elijah says as he rolls up the sleeves of his shirt.

"Who stabbed him?"

"I did."

Caroline's face snaps to him like thunder. "You put that thing inside of him?"

"I didn't have a choice," he offers, looking apologetically at his brother, shame written on every line of his face. "He was going to use it on Rebekah."

"And you couldn't have just snapped his neck?" she asks, her voice laden with irritation. "Do you have any idea the amount of dark magic radiating from him right now? It's giving me a freaking headache. What do you think it's doing to him?"

"I understand your concern, Caroline, and believe me, I am terribly sorry for hurting my brother this way. But you've never been persecuted by Niklaus. You don't know what he's like when he wants to destroy you. Rebekah could barely outrun him in the state she was in and he took pleasure in beating her into the ground. I had to give her a head start. Now, I will remove the blade. But you might want to take a step back."

With a reluctant huff, Caroline does, allowing Elijah space. He takes a knife from the nightstand and cuts Klaus open in half. Caroline bites on her lip, tasting bile in her mouth as Klaus lets out a low and guttural moan.

"I suggest you look away now."

She scrunches her eyes shut when Elijah sticks his fist inside his brother's stomach. The sound that escapes Klaus' mouth sends an awful shiver up Caroline's spine. When Elijah finally pulls the blade out, the muffled moan turns into a fully-fledged groan. He arches his back and then falls down against the pillow breathing hard.

Elijah puts the blade away and takes a towel to wipe his bloodied hand clean.

"I can't believe you did this to him," Caroline says, giving Elijah a look like a silent growl. "We were there to save him, not stab him. He's your brother."

"And Rebekah is my sister, and right then, she was the weakest link. I don't want to go against either of them, but what was I supposed to do when my hybrid brother wanted to murder my poisoned sister?"

Caroline bites back a retort, shaking her head, indignation still flaring up inside of her. She can kind of see Elijah's point, but absolutely nothing should justify putting someone you care for through the kind of torment this blade can inflict. It makes her want to punch Elijah.

"He will be weak as he recovers from this," he says. "I need you to sit with him. Perhaps use this time, before he's back to his full strength, to persuade him not to murder his baby sister. If there's anyone in this world who can talk him out of it, it's you."

"Where are you going?"

"After the ones responsible for this."

Elijah leans over his brother, Klaus' bloodshot eyes blinking open at last and following him sluggishly. "Niklaus," he whispers. "It was not my desire to bring you pain, but I will not see you hurt Rebekah. Now, I fear Sabine might be making a final move against us. I intend to find her and end this."

"Elijah..." Klaus breathes out, his voice only above a whisper. "You will pay... for this..."

Elijah exchanges a meaningful look with Caroline before he leaves. It's exactly as she thought... Whatever happens now, the damage is already done. They revealed the truth about Rebekah's unforgivable treason and then forced Elijah to take sides. She can't even fathom the kind of resentment Klaus must be harboring towards his siblings right now. He won't ever let that go.

The mission Elijah has entrusted her with — to convince him to drop his revenge plans — seems like an impossible one. But she has to try. Like it or not, this is her family too, now. The story of how daddy lost his shit and murdered auntie Bekah and uncle Elijah is not one she looks forward to telling her daughter one day.

She approaches the nightstand, attracted by the magic radiating off the infamous Tunde blade. Just letting her fingers hover above it she feels tiny little discharges running up her arm like electricity, only worse. It's a cold, dreadful sensation, like her muscles are cramping up just by being close to it. The magic in this thing is incredibly powerful, like nothing she's ever seen on an enchanted object before. Not even the moonstone Esther used to bind Klaus' werewolf curse was this strong. It's malign. Dangerous. No wonder vampires were dropping like flies, no wonder Rebekah was such an easy prey. This weapon not only can take down Klaus Mikaelson, but it can keep him down indefinitely.

Caroline suddenly feels a million miles away from home. She's seen a great number of awfulness back in Mystic Falls, and the expression magic Professor Creepy got Bonnie practicing was certainly not natural. But this is... Something else. This blade is hatred and corruption made tangible. Something worse than death. Mystic Falls was a peaceful haven compared to New Orleans. And they used to think Klaus was the worst they'd ever have to deal with... On New Orleans' scale of evil, Klaus is not even close to the top.

Caroline's face snaps to him as he draws in a shuddery breath, tremors wrecking his body. A knot twists in her stomach, a ripple of sadness going through her. She can sense his agony just by looking at him. Whatever she might feel about Rebekah's betrayal, or Klaus trying to kill his own sister, or Elijah stabbing him with a blade forged in hell — seeing Klaus like this breaks her heart.

She sits down beside him on the edge of the bed, trying not to cause him any more discomfort. He turns to her with an undisguised expression of hurt, his eyes dark and unflinching, threatening of a storm to come just as soon as he's recovered some of his strength. Caroline tries to conceal some of her own distress, smoothing her expression into something gentler and less horrified.

"I was so worried," she croons softly, her voice rich with affection as she touches the side of his face. His skin still feels too warm; the fever hasn't broken yet. She runs her fingers through his hair, and Klaus shuts his eyes, leaning into the touch. The lines on his face soften just barely and he allows a fraction of the tension on his body to ease, leaning into the touch. "For a moment there... I thought I wasn't gonna see you again."

"I know..." he murmurs, looking at her again. "I know Elijah chose you."

"He was tricked, Klaus. They jagged my magic and trapped me inside the plantation house, then they set it on fire. He rushed to you and Rebekah after, but it was too late."

A muscle twitches on Klaus' jaw. "For the first time... I'm glad... For my brother's feelings for you."

"You're too weak for this. Stop talking, ok?" She pulls up the sleeves of her cardigan and offers him her wrist. He gives her a questioning look. "I know you have a blood stash, but I know you'd rather have it fresh and warm. Go on."

Klaus hesitates, the veins around his eyes bulging as he focuses on the blood pumping inside of her, and the temptation proves too great to resist. In the state he's in, he'd feed from a rat. Caroline winces when he sinks his teeth into her arm, bracing herself to endure the pain for a while, but Klaus barely has any blood before he pulls away, licking the corners of his lips.

"That's it?" she asks, confused. He's clearly starving and the blood would help him heal faster. The cut Elijah opened on his chest isn't even completely closed yet. But Klaus merely gives her a pointed glance, as though it's obvious why he won't do it. "Really? If you'd read my pregnancy books you'd know a woman's blood amount can increase by 40% while she's expecting. Besides, I heal fast." Like a stubborn child, Klaus simply faces away from her. She shakes her head, wiping her wrist clean. "Well, maybe it's for the best. You need to chill out for a bit."

"Spare me the lecture, Caroline. I'm too weak for one of your talks," he grumbles.

She feels a rush of relief that his temper is finally rearing its ugly head again.

"Well, I'm sorry, but we have to talk about this, and there's no point in waiting until after you've killed Rebekah to bring it up. She's your sister, Klaus," she says, gently. "I get the anger. I get the disappointment. The resentment. But how can you hate her?"

A shadow flickers across his eyes. "Because she's done what no one else has managed to do to me for a thousand years," he says, emotion thickening his speech. "Rip my heart out."

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

After a while, Caroline becomes tired of wrestling Klaus back into bed. He's not making her life any easier, but then again, he's not sure he wants to. His feelings at the moment are... convoluted, to say the least.

Klaus would never forgive Elijah if he'd chosen to save either him or Rebekah first. They might be his siblings, but they're immortals. If he hadn't rushed to Caroline's aid, she'd be dead now. In a way, he's truly glad his brother's feelings spoke louder than familial bonds. Klaus would rather spend a lifetime agonizing, trapped in that blade's hell, than to be alive in a world where Caroline is dead. He just... Finds it really hard to forgive Elijah either way.

Rebekah didn't just betray him, she betrayed all of them. What she did was unforgivable, worse than anything Klaus has ever done to any of them. And yet Elijah refused to condemn her, choosing instead to stab him with that blade so she could run free with her accomplice, putting him back in that state of raw, inescapable anguish. He can't shake the feeling that his imprisonment offered his brother a glimpse of the life he wants for himself. One where he and Caroline don't have to dance around their hearts' true desires for the sake of his bastard brother, who happens to be the father of the child she carries. Such an inconvenience... Elijah must terribly regret having convinced him to stay in New Orleans all those months ago.

A sister who tried to have him murdered by the hands of his worst nightmare. A brother who would rob him of what he loves the most in this world. And Caroline...

Klaus believes that she is sincere in her concern for him. He heard them talk before Elijah removed the blade; she was scolding him. But the memory of the two of them so close together on that night still plagues Klaus' thoughts, stirring something dark inside of him. It's stronger than ever now, after the stabbings, as though the dark magic imbued into the blade has reinforced all the resentment and the hurt harbored in his chest. As hard as he tries to forget it, the vision has been seared onto his mind. It just won't go away.

And still, her mere presence is a comfort. When she touched him, for the briefest of moments, all the pain was lifted and his entire body relaxed, his mind reeling back to that one perfect morning in Mystic Falls. Whenever Klaus finds himself in need of solace, of a safe harbor, that is where his mind wanders off to. Caroline's genuine smile. Caroline's warmth. Caroline's embrace.

As angry and as hurt as he might be, he can't foster for her the same kind of animosity he has for Elijah or Rebekah. He wants Caroline to be safe, first and foremost, and he wants her to stay near, even if she isn't sure he's the one she wants. It's pathetic, really. A creature as old as him, succumbing to these juvenile desires. It's an Achilles' heel, makes him weak. It's why he had shielded himself against it for so long. Somehow, Caroline chipped away at his defenses and made it past his walls.

Perhaps, if she wasn't pregnant with his child, he could let her go, live her life whichever way she wanted to, hoping that maybe one day she would be ready to accept what he has to offer. He was ready to do that, allow her to seek a pitiful facsimile of happiness with that insidious boyfriend who never deserved her. But now he cannot imagine her raising their daughter alongside anyone else. He can't be connected to her through a child and not want her. Not want both of them. Even if he has no idea what that means, what it entails. He just knows that he wants it, and the idea of losing it to his own brother...

No. He cannot tolerate it. He won't.

But Elijah will have to wait. There are more important reckonings to be made right now.

If he knows Marcel at all, he won't leave the French Quarter without retrieving a precious treasure that currently lies shrouded inside a tomb at Lafayette Cemetery, but that could rise at any minute, if only the right witch is brought down. If Marcel knows him at all, then he knows that what Klaus did to poor Carol Lockwood will be nothing compared to what he'll do to Davina Claire if he and Rebekah escape. The poor girl, who's been through so much already, will pay for their cowardice. Klaus won't spare her a second time.

He took from him what he valued the most. His city. His friends. His family. His life. He will repay by taking away Marcel's most precious treasure: his little witch.

He likes that girl too much to leave her unprotected at his mercy. She wouldn't last a day. They may have run away, but they'll come back, possibly while they think Klaus is still too weak to give them chase. He needs to have eyes and ears all over the Quarter for any sightings. And then he needs to act quickly.

Klaus scrambles for his phone and sends out a few messages to some trusted spies. It drains a considerable amount of his meager energy just to do that, so he needs to lie back and wait a moment before he can push himself off the bed again. He tumbles his way to his dresser and finds himself a clean shirt. In the state he's in, he won't even make it down the stairs without tripping. The pain is still monumental and the fever hasn't broken; every time he draws in a deeper breath, his chest burns. But he's way too stubborn to sit still; Klaus needs to reach the blood stash.

As he slowly does his buttons up, he steals a glance at Caroline. She gave up on manhandling him and slumped back into the armchair by the fireplace, resting her eyes. Klaus doubts anybody has had a worse day than his, but Caroline's must've been only marginally better. She went to the sanatorium with Elijah, which probably means she hasn't had much sleep, and before that, she almost died in a fire. Anger flares hot as he thinks of it, makes him desperate to close his hands around Celeste's neck and squeeze until her eyes pop out.

She looks serene there, on the chair, but Klaus can see the evidence of exhaustion showing on the corners of her lips and the light pinch between her eyebrows. In a perfect world, he would take her to her room and allow her a moment of respite. This much strain cannot be healthy for a pregnant woman. But in a perfect world, his sister wouldn't have betrayed him and his brother wouldn't have put him through unimaginable pain. There's no respite to be had in the real world. Nobody gets their happy ending.

Klaus tries to stand up and his legs buckle under him, his muscles traitorously failing. His struggle pulls Caroline out of her break and she's on him in a second, putting an arm around his shoulders to steady him.

"Oh, for God's sake, Klaus. What are you doing?" she chides, gently guiding him back to the bed. "Where do you think you're going like this? You're too weak to walk."

"I'm still hungry."

Caroline rolls up her cardigan again and puts her wrist out for him, raising her eyebrows. Klaus puts her arm down. "I'm not feeding on you again."

"Why not? Is my blood stale or something?"

"Why do you want me to bite you?"

"Because I'm trying to help you. See?" She shows him the wrist he fed on not long ago, her skin perfectly smooth. "I'm fine. And your hesitation is exactly why the best thing for you is to feed on me. You won't hurt me."

Blood sharing is an extremely intimate thing, and there's maybe a part of him satisfied that she's so insistent on allowing him to feed on her, flattered by her blind belief that he wouldn't harm her. But the truth is... He wouldn't trust himself not to lose control. Not with how famished he is, not after the torment he was put through and how deeply it has penetrated his mind. Klaus cannot rely on his own limbs to move according to his will right now; how could he rely upon his instincts?

He looks away. "There's a fresh supply in the kitchen."

"Well, you obviously won't make it that far. You're going to break your neck trying to go down those stairs and lord knows how long it will take you to wake with how weak you are. So why don't you behave like a good boy and get back to bed?"

He snorts. "If I had a quid for every time a woman has tried that line on me..."

Caroline raises an unimpressed brow. "You'd be poor."

His lips slant into a small grin. "I beg to differ. Some women actually find me charming."

"You mean like Genevieve?" she bites out.

Klaus blinks at her. "You know about her?"

"I had an unfortunate run-in with her at the sanatorium last night."

Klaus' mouth quirks into a faint smirk. "Don't be jealous, love. Genevieve helped me."

"Helped you?" Caroline echoes with indignation. "She used you, Klaus. Don't get fooled by her batting her eyelashes at you. To get her revenge on Rebekah, she pit you against your sister."

"My sister sought this all on her own. And Genevieve is quite right to hold a grudge. She was young, with her whole life ahead of her, thought she was lending a hand to a dear friend and was repaid by Rebekah with suffering and death. And so was I."

"She's your family, Klaus," she pleads. "She stuck by you through thick and thin. Shouldn't that mean more to you than some witch you don't even know?"

"Oh, it most certainly should. I'd ask her the same thing. I gave her my blessing to be with Marcellus. I found it in me to be happy for them. My sister and my best friend. I let my guard down and gave in, I grew soft. More fool, I," he says, his voice sharpening in an instant, tight and laced with venom. "They'd already betrayed me and brought to town the one thing I'd been running from for centuries." The stabbing ache returns, and Klaus feels as once more the darkest part of his rage awakens. "You know... The night Mikael finally found us, we'd gone to the Opera. Elijah, myself, Rebekah and Marcel. A big, happy family. Les Huguenots. One of my favorites. Do you know the story?" Caroline shakes her head once. "It's a tale of forbidden love, a Romeo and Juliet of sorts. On the day they are to marry, family and long-festering hatred intervene. Thousands are massacred."

Klaus pulls himself up again, his chest tightening, but this time not in anger, but with loss. He lost something the night before, just as he had in 1919. His eyes become distant as he flashes on the last bits of bliss they had, heading to the Opera with the confidence and swag of the untouchable rulers of New Orleans.

"A father even kills his own child in the final act," he continues. "I can almost appreciate the irony."

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

Elijah did not expect Sabine's trail to lead him to the Bayou. But he was even more surprised to find the witch being held at gunpoint by the werewolves.

Apparently the Crescents were a lot smarter about restraining her than a bunch of millennium old vampires.

She's grinding some form of concoction in a jar with her hands bound together while the sweet-looking Eve holds a shotgun to her head.

"What is going on here?"

Sabine looks up at him, her lips twisting into a wicked smirk. "Are you here to rescue me as you did Caroline?"

"Eve," he says, ignoring Sabine's taunt and turning to the other woman.

"She has to do something for me. Then she's all yours."

"What is she doing?"

Eve hesitates. "Breaking Marcel's curse."

Elijah's brow furrows. "What?"

"Caroline called us yesterday. Apparently Marcel managed to come up with a list of all the witches whose bodies Celeste inhabited over the years. One of them was called Brinne Deveraux. The witch who cast the curse on the Crescent wolves back in the 90s. Only a witch of the Deveraux bloodline would be able to break it, and seeing how Sophie has been conveniently eliminated, we didn't think we'd make it happen any time soon. But Caroline connected the dots. Celeste is the one who cast the spell while inhabiting Brinne's body. So she can undo it."

Elijah's eyes cut to the witch, who continues to calmly mix the herbs. "I've already performed the counter spell," she says. "This potion will serve as a conduit. Come next full moon, you make sure they all drink this, and it'll be undone."

"This sounds like a fantastic way to poison all of them."

"I have no reason to do that."

"Whatever she's promised you, Eve, she's lying."

"She's the only one who can help my pack," Eve objects.

"She cannot be trusted. Do you have any idea what she has done to our family?"

Eve's eyes flash, and Elijah senses movement right behind him. The wolves aren't far.

"I know you want revenge, so do we. She could've killed Caroline and Jackson at that fire. But right now we need her to undo the spell," she says in a clipped, measured tone that commands an authority Elijah had failed to perceive about her. Eve is a lot more dangerous than her polite ways and soft voice suggest.

Sabine finishes her mixture and puts the lid back on the jar, handing it over to Eve. Before the wolf woman can take it, however, Elijah steals it from her, grabs Sabine none too gently by the arms and flashes away, Eve's angry screams and the howling of wolves following them as they blur away into the woods.

When he deems they are far enough away from any unsolicited interruptions, he finally stops, pushing Sabine against a tree.

He lifts the nasty-smelling jar. "You tricked her," he says, through grit teeth.

"It's not a trick. You're holding the cure to your niece's clan in your hand. If the wolves take that elixir, come the next full moon, the curse is no more. They're free."

"You condemned these people to decades of agony and now you just break the curse without so much as a whimper. Why?"

"Because Caroline promised them she would find a way to help them break the curse," she grins, pushing away from the tree. "And it's the best thing I could do for her in such crucial times. And the worst possible thing I could do to you and to your brother."

"What are you saying?"

"That no matter what happens now, you've lost her. If you destroy this jar, kill me, and she finds out they had the cure within their reach and you took it from them, she'll hate you. If you don't..."

"How deluded you've become, Celeste, to think Caroline would prefer the wolves to our family. We are her family."

"Your family offers nothing but pain and heartbreak for her, while the Crescents have done nothing but keep her safe. Her child is royalty to them. A half-witch, half-werewolf wonderkid? She's going to change everything for them. Break the curse. Bring the packs back together. Empower them. They'll be eternally grateful to Caroline. So... When push comes to shove, and believe me, it will, who do you think she'll choose?"

Elijah's stomach curls in on itself, a swell of anger biting at his gut. Pitting Rebekah against Niklaus and forcing him to take sides, thus shaking the already frail bond between himself and his brother, wasn't enough. Celeste wants to destroy every spark of happiness his family could ever achieve, and that involves Caroline. She won't be satisfied until she's taken her away from them.

It's an ingenious plan, Elijah has to say. And as much as he'd like to believe that Caroline would never abandon them in favor of the werewolves, a little voice in his head tells him the matter may not be quite so straightforward. She's taken an immense liking to them, and her concern for that man who was trapped in the house with her is evidence. They were the only ones inside while the party took place on the back yard. Elijah can only wonder what they'd been debating. Niklaus' temper is a risk in itself at the best of times, and after what happened with Rebekah... Celeste may not be that far away from her perfect revenge, after all.

"What's your endgame, Celeste?"

She laughs, an awful, vicious sound. So distant from the woman he fell so deeply in love with all those years ago...

"This game has no end, Elijah," she boasts. "We're both immortal now, you know."

"Then what's the point if you can't possibly win?"

"But I have. You lost the girl. The girl you never made a move on because you were so desperate to save your family. And now your family lies in ruins."

"My family, despite all that you have done, will heal in time. We always have. You regard yourself far too highly, Celeste, if you think you're the worst that's happened to us."

She shrugs unimpressed. "Maybe. And maybe if you had the time, you could heal. But do you really think Rebekah ran far and fast from here?"

"She's long gone."

"Is she? She's with Marcel. And Marcel loves Davina. Davina is dead, but she could come back, under the right circumstances."

"You wouldn't dare," he snarls.

"If you hadn't been so consumed by your thoughts of Caroline, you might have figured it out sooner. But you know who did have the time to think about it?" Sabine's face cracks into a sly, victorious smile, and Elijah's guts go cold. "Your brother."

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

Caroline is way too tired for this.

Once the adrenaline wore off, she realized just how exhausted she truly was. Her body is begging for rest, but if she takes her eyes off Klaus for a single second, he disappears. She feels like an octogenarian watching over a hyperactive toddler. As soon as he felt strong enough to start prancing around, he easily lost her. Turns out even a hybrid at a 10th of his strength is still too much for a nearly seven months pregnant woman running on serious sleep deprivation.

She finds him in the living room, pouring himself a drink.

"I'm not sure that helps," she says.

"I'm not sure it doesn't," he replies with a snap.

Caroline sighs. The stronger Klaus feels, the sourer his mood becomes. She almost wishes he'd feel a little bit weaker, just so he'd be tamer.

"Fine," she shrugs. "You have barely any blood in your system, go ahead and poison yourself with alcohol, why don't you? I'm sure Elijah would be delighted you're getting yourself drunk."

"Do not speak to me of Elijah!" he growls viciously, whirling around to her with his face scrunched up in anger.

The suddenness of it finds her cold, leaves her momentarily taken aback. But then she sets her face to determination, planting her fists on her hips. "He loves you."

Klaus' lips curl. "Yes," he concedes. "Except when he loves... others... more."

"He loves you and Rebekah equally."

"It's not Rebekah I'm talking about."

Caroline narrows her eyes at him, but before she can inquire him further, his phone dings.

A triumphant, cruel smile spreads on his lips. "My dear sister, so predictable. She could've been miles away from here by now. Well, she and her lover have chosen their fate."

"Klaus, what are you—"

"I'm sorry, love, but conversation time ended here." Caroline gasps when he shoves a marble statue to the ground. But it wasn't marble, because it shatters into tiny little pieces. Klaus crouches down and retrieves a stake. A stake Caroline's seen before.

The white oak stake Esther forged for Alaric.

How the hell did that end up with him?

Her eyes go wide, her heart skipping a beat in shock. "Is that...?"

"I saved this one," he says, his eyes gleaming with pride. "It's special. Cannot be destroyed."

It was bad enough when she thought Klaus was going to dagger Rebekah for centuries, or stab her with Papa Tunde's blade and leave her agonizing for years. But he really wants her dead. And more importantly... He has the means to do it.

He chugs back the rest of his drink, puts the stake safely inside his jacket and blurs out of the room before Caroline has any chance of stopping him.

She curses under her breath and rushes outside. If Klaus really is determined to run, she'll never catch him, but she has a feeling he'll stop for a bite. He barely had any blood from the stash, just one bag, which, in his condition, is practically nothing. As the effects of the dark magic wear off, he'll get stronger, but warm blood will help him get there faster.

As predicted, she finds him in an alley right by the house, his face buried in the neck of a writhing man.

"Klaus!" Caroline chides, striding across the alley. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

He lets the man drop to the ground and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. "If you have to ask then you haven't been paying attention." Caroline glares at him and kneels down to check the man's pulse. He's very weak, but not dead.

"Help the pregnant woman up, you psycho," she grumbles. He offers her a hand and easily pulls her to her feet. Caroline feels a bit of a twinge on her side, grinding her teeth against the pain.

"I need some sustenance before I kill my treacherous sister," he explains easily, as though there's absolutely nothing absurd in his logic.

All right, Caroline thinks. Time for a new strategy. If reminding him of why murdering a relative is intrinsically wrong, then she'll make this personal.

"You killed Elena's aunt," she starts with fire in her eyes. "Jenna was her legal guardian because the rest of her family was all gone. She was an orphan and you murdered her aunt, who, by the way, was a really nice person who couldn't hurt a fly."

Klaus grunts impatiently, turning his back on her. "I don't have time for a walk down memory lane, Caroline."

"You ruined Elena's life when you took Stefan away!" she continues, keeping up with his pace. "You forced him to turn off his emotions and leave a trail of dead bodies all over the country for your entertainment and he lost the one good thing in his life, to the asshole he calls a brother. Because of you." Klaus whips around to face her, lips compressed into an angry line. "You had Tyler attack me. And then you killed his mother. He had no one else in the world. You have destroyed the lives of people I care about. And yet I found it in myself to forgive you. I have wanted to kill you so many times, Klaus, but I didn't, even when I had the chance. Because I saw good in you and I knew I'd be filled with regret if I did it. And you will too if you hurt your sister — your sister, Klaus! You might think she deserves to die for what she's done to you, and you might think that you won't care, but you will not survive the guilt if you take her life."

"I'll tell you what I almost didn't survive. My sister bringing the vilest creature to ever walk the earth down upon me."

"And now you want to do to her and Marcel the exact same thing your father did to you. Terrorize them. Chase them to the ends of the earth, make their lives hell for all eternity. Can't you see? You're turning yourself into the thing you hate the most."

Klaus' face twists with chagrin. "I've been called every shade of monster, but that's new. My father?" There's a stiffening across his face as he regards her thoughtfully. As though making a decision, he grabs her arm. "Come with me," he grumbles as he starts pulling her along.

He storms through the streets of New Orleans, and the whole time her heart pounds at the thought of where he might be leading her. They stop when they reach an intersection on Bourbon street and Klaus points towards the huge hotel building on the corner. She knows exactly what that place is, having become acquainted with it while she read about the history of the city. The old Opera House.

"In 1919, the city burned down at this exact spot," he starts, his voice drenched in bitterness. "That was my father at his worst. You've had but a glimpse of what he was capable of. He followed us here, to the Opera, and made his own... Adaptations to the spectacle. When the curtains went up, there were bodies on the stage. Marcel's. Lana, a werewolf girl I had... Befriended. She was the Crescent alpha at the time. Others of our most trusted allies. Anyone who dared to call themselves a friend ended up there, strung around the neck, stabbed, murdered. And Mikael compelled the audience to watch it all and applaud as though it were the drollest of comedies. I tried to save Marcel instead of running, but my father had other ideas. He attempted to kill me first, but Rebekah intervened. All those years, I believed she'd been trying to save me. But I wasn't the one she sought to rescue. Father attacked her and myself, and then he went back to Marcel. That's when my big brother swooped in. Just when we thought all was lost. So I ran like the beaten dog my father believed me to be, but we had to split. Elijah stood behind to slow him down and went separate ways to try and divert his attention. It was decades until we saw each other again. As we three fled for our lives, he burned it all to the ground. Everyone who was inside, hundreds of people, the innocents who wouldn't hurt a fly you so valiantly champion for, died. And, we assumed, with them, Marcel. I lived. But all that we had built died, as did the last shred of me that felt human." Klaus peers directly into her eyes, and Caroline's certain she sees a flash of hurt there before he masks it. "You've wondered why I'm such a monster? Capable of the most horrific acts? Why I feel no remorse? Now you know. That's what my father took from me that night. And it was all Rebekah's doing."

"Klaus," she says gently, her mouth feeling awfully dry. "He's gone. You killed him. You can't let his ghost haunt you forever."

"I won't terrorize my sister and her lover for centuries as my father did to us. Nor will I humiliate and torment or dehumanize her, which is what he did to me. None of that. I will simply... And quickly... End them."

"If you do this, he wins. This will be your downfall, Klaus. From beyond the grave, he will have his revenge on you."

He's quiet for a moment. "Then he wins," he says, and flashes away.

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

Elijah ambles through the cemetery, not really sure where to go, a sense of grief falling over him as the last rays of sun die on the horizon.

He didn't expect to be anguished over Celeste's passing after everything she did, the people she endangered, the possibly irreversible damage she single-handedly caused to his family. But, strangely enough, he is.

Two hundred years of acrimony corrupted the woman he once loved, twisted her into a shadow of her old self. Bitter. Irate. Rancorous. His Celeste was never like this. She was spirited, passionate, but not cruel. All the light she had died when her original body went into the earth. Then darkness took over.

In a way, he can't help but feel guilty, as he did two hundred years ago. It was Niklaus' lack of restraint that caused witches to be persecuted left and right across New Orleans, and it was his arrogance in believing she would be untouchable because of his reputation that made her get murdered. She warned him about it. About Niklaus and about the growing concern in the witch community. Elijah did nothing. He was way too happy to allow Niklaus to soil his life with his depressing posture. He was wrong, of course. The past is never really gone for the likes of him.

Sabine promised the witches she wasn't going to jump bodies again, that she was committed to their cause. It was how she rallied the entire coven to join her side. Elijah alerted Monique Deveraux against her true intentions, stroke a deal with the girl that would only ever work if his suspicions that Celeste intended to find another witch to inhabit as soon as she achieved her revenge was confirmed. She never had the best interests of the coven at heart; all she wanted was power. Elijah took her to the cemetery, then. To where her people are stronger. And she proved him right. Celeste found herself a shard of glass and gleefully stuck it into Sabine's neck. Her final threat — that she'd jump into Caroline — would've thinned Elijah's blood if he hadn't been prepared for it.

The second Sabine's body dropped lifeless to the ground, another body rose, deep in the Lafayette Cemetery. But not the body Celeste had intended. Monique's spell trapped her right back inside her original vessel. If Elijah says he didn't feel a wave of nostalgia seeing her and listening to that soft French accent again after such a long time, he'll be lying. Killing her took away a small portion of his soul. But it had to be done.

Celeste Dubois truly is gone now. But she didn't leave without a final gift. A lunar spell that binds Mikaelsons to the limits of the cemetery until the next moon rises. Anyone can get in, but members of the Original family cannot get out. And she did that with the certainty that at least one other sibling would be heading there soon.

As much as Elijah hoped she was wrong, he's not surprised when Rebekah shows up.

"Elijah," his sister says.

He sighs. "What are you doing here, Rebekah? You should be on the other side of the world by now."

"Marcel came back for Davina," she explains, exactly as Celeste said they'd do. Now that she is dead, the little witch might even come back to life. "And we both know it would never be far enough."

He opens his mouth to chastise her for her foolishness, but his phone rings.

"Caroline," he says into the phone.

"He's on the loose, Elijah," she says with exasperation. "I tried to stall him as much as I could, but he was having none of it. He ditched me right outside the old Opera House. I don't know where he went. Where are you?"

"Lafayette Cemetery."

"What are you doing there?"

"Celeste is dead."

Caroline is quiet for a moment. "Has she jumped into another body?"

"No. This time, she's gone for good."

"Oh," she says, almost apologetically. "Klaus got word that Rebekah's still in town. We need to find her—"

"I already did."

"Where is she?"

"With me."

"What? No, Elijah. She needs to go, now. He has the white oak stake."

He exchanges a look with his sister, a million things passing between them. Elijah feels a tendril of fear unfurling inside.

"Elijah?"

"Yes, I heard," he stops, swallowing down. "Before she died, Celeste cast a spell that trapped us in the cemetery."

"What? You can't get out?"

"Not until the next moon rises."

Caroline curses on the other side of the line.

"I'm heading there. I'll see if I can undo the spell," she speaks after a moment.

"That would be good."

"Just... Hide. Elijah, if he finds the two of you -"

"I know. Thank you."

He hangs up, looks at his phone for a heartbeat too long. "You have to find a place to—"

"Get away from her!"

Niklaus' ferocious growl sends a violent quake through him. And by the look on Rebekah's eyes, she feels the same. Their brother's eyes flash golden, wild with rage, as his fingers closed around the white oak stake in a tight grip.

"She's mine, Elijah," he hisses, a low rumble that sounds like a thunder.

The veins around Elijah's eyes pop, his gums itching as his fangs show.

Too late for contingency plans, then. They have no choice but to take down Niklaus.

TBC

---

Things are about to get explosive from here on! :) I made a few choices here regarding which scenes from the episodes to use, considering also what's going to happen on the next chapter, as I didn't want it to feel too repetitive, and I hope you guys enjoy the final product. I'm really looking forward to seeing your thoughts about this little Frankenstein chapter and especially the KC bits. Drop me a comment and let me know how you feel!

Thank you so much for reading!