She awakes to the voice of a river.
The Osage, a tributary of the Missouri, is over two hundred miles long. Bonnie remembers AP Geography class, tracing her fingers over the map and wondering how a body could travel so far and still remember where to return.
Slowly, her senses float into awareness. Soft sunlight and the whisper of trees fill the windows, and she is wrapped in sheets smelling faintly of lemon verbena, comfortable and cool under an old-fashioned ceiling fan.
Downstairs, Bonnie can hear someone moving around a kitchen, the sound of pots, oil sizzling in a pan. Soon the delicious aroma of fresh coffee wafts up to her room.
It's so calm and surreal she almost forgets why she's here.
And who she's here with.
She'd been surprised when Klaus announced they were stopping for the night, not at some mansion or hotel, but a farmhouse in Missouri that he had keys to. Exhausted from a day of travel that involved cooped up in a truck with the hybrid, Bonnie had closed herself in her room and fallen asleep in her jeans and sweatshirt.
A glance at her phone shows her it's almost 10 am now.
She's so tired she could easily fall back asleep, but her stomach growls in reminder that she hasn't eaten since last evening.
Hunger wins out, and after a quick shower and a change of clothes Bonnie pads cautiously down stairs.
By daylight the house is warmly beautiful, with clean wood floors, patterned rugs, and potted plants in all the windows.
Drawn by the smell of breakfast, the witch finds her way to the large sunlit kitchen.
"Morning! I'm Hazel, so great to meet you." A tall woman with curly grey hair ushers Bonnie into a chair and sets a mug down in front of her before she can say 'thank you'.
"Sit, sit, have some coffee. John and Nik will be back soon. Bonnie, right? Such a pretty name," Hazel remarks, dropping some cinnamon into a bowl. "Sorry we weren't awake last night, dear. I told Nik to call us from the road but he's such a considerate boy, just like his dad..,"
"Nik...," she echoes faintly.
"Oh that's what we call him, so we don't mix him up with Klaus Sr."
Bonnie is starting to feel more and more like she's in the Twilight Zone.
Hazel gestures at some framed pictures above her sink.
"Klaus, Nik's father. That's us at the Tri-Nation Powwow in 1965."
She blinks in disbelief. Sure enough, there's Klaus, standing barefoot in the grass next to a regalia-clad Hazel. His hair is longer, almost brushing his shoulders, and he's wearing a loose tunic shirt and jeans.
"He was a kinda flower child type," Hazel chuckles.
"Flower child-,"
"Nik is a bit more serious, though he's pretty artistic in a different way. He painted that for me." Hazel points at a watercolor of a river winding past a small house.
She has no idea Klaus is a vampire, Bonnie realizes. That part is easy enough. What she can't fathom is the sheer affection this woman is evincing for Klaus. Klaus.
"Have you two been dating long?"
Bonnie almost chokes on her coffee.
Hazel's eyes crinkle in laughter, "I'm sorry, didn't mean to pry. I know young people today don't like labels." She shakes her head, "I'm talking too much. I'm just so excited to see Nik, it's been years. Him being kind of a lone wolf and all."
"That's... one way of putting it."
"Well I'm glad you're here, Bonnie. I don't think he's ever brought anyone else around these parts."
"Lucky me," Bonnie mumbles as her eyes travel over the kitchen. Dried herbs hang above the sink, little glass birds glint in the window, and the walls are covered with decorative copperware. There's no dishwasher or chrome appliances, and the paint is fading from the cupboards. Everything radiates cozy fulfillment. This is a kitchen people have feasted and drunk and laughed in. Generations of memory nestle in the corners. And somehow, Klaus fits into those memories.
The witch eyes Hazel carefully. She didn't exhibit any signs of Compulsion and yet-
Bonnie shakes her head to clear it of strange images, images of Klaus sitting down to dinner with a family, posing for a picture, watching the sunset through this kitchen window-
- the back-door swings open and there's the sound of boots and manly laughter.
Hazel greets her husband John. He's only slightly taller than her, with grey eyes and a kind smile.
Bonnie can only watch, agape, as Klaus and John proceed to show Hazel the fish they've caught, discussing how the river was high today and cleaner than last year, and how they'd seen otters and wild turkeys
Her gaze settles on the hybrid. He's wearing a grey t-shirt with his characteristic necklaces, and some dusty jeans. There's mud on his boots and color in his cheeks.
Klaus likes fishing?
He sees her staring and raises his eyebrows. "Slept well?"
"Like the dead," she retorts.
"You two, go wash up so we can eat." Hazel shoos the men away and sets a basket of rolls down in front of Bonnie with some butter and jelly. "Here you go dear, you look hungry."
"Thank you-,"
Bonnie takes a bite out of one, then another. The tart, sweet plum-jelly is exactly what she's been craving. She manages three rolls and a generous helping of blueberries before it happens. Her stomach turns, bile rises in her throat, and she's rushing down the hallway to the nearest bathroom.
She runs the faucet and waits. But the nausea passes as quickly as it came and she feels normal, even hungry again.
This is the third time this week. It can't be a stomach bug, it's been too long-
-her senses are flooded with memory: musky cologne and the gleam of a varsity jacket. Oh no.
No no no NO.
Jake.
Her legs feel numb, and she struggles to stay standing. A thousand frantic thoughts are pummeling through her head. That night with Jake was almost two months ago. But they'd used a condom! She'd insisted. And yet, she can't remember when her last period was. And she's been tired for weeks now, but with everything going on she'd hardly had time to worry about a little exhaustion and stomach-sickness. Oh God. And now she is out in the middle of nowhere with Klaus of all people -
- the door swings open and he's standing there, looking her up and down. She doesn't need the mirror to tell her she looks a fright, all wild-eyed and shaking.
"What on earth's the matter with you?"
It's too much, suddenly. The house, the nice people, Klaus at the center of it all. There's a sound like water in her ears. She can hear herself start to laugh, a raw, wincing sound like eggshells cracking.
She can't stop.
He smells like sun and leather, on anyone else she would even like it. But Klaus has her arm in a vice-like grip, and she's struggling to keep up with his long-legged stride.
He's marched her all the way to the riverbank before she manages to pull away from him.
"You will stop these hysterics, witch."
"Hysterics?"
The mad laughter is fading, and cold terrifying anxiety marches in its wake.
"I realize the nature of our departure from Mystic Falls was far from ideal-,"
"Far from- you're unbelievable."
She storms off. She wants to put her head underwater and lose sight of everything for one blissful second.
She just needs to think, to breathe.
Bonnie walks across the small wooden bridge and stops halfway. He's following close behind, he probably expects she'll try to jump in the river.
If only it were that easy.
She grips the wooden railing in an effort to still her shaking. Below her, the swirl and rush of the water is inexorable.
She could take a pregnancy test, but deep down, in the place she'd called intuition before words like "witch" and "magic" and "vampire" were part of her life, she knows the truth.
"Come now, love, this is hardly necessary. Your friends are safe, you are safe, and you're about to feast on the best fry-bread this side of the midwest. Let's go back inside, hmm?" his voice is warm, coaxing even. But she knows better. He needs her to be calm and normal so Hazel and John aren't concerned.
The maddening absurdity that such people could care for Klaus, while she's-
- she can't finish the thought. The sheer hopelessness of her situation threatens to engulf. Who could she call? Where could she run to? This isn't Jeremy's baby, so why would the Gilberts help? Her chest tightens, like someone's standing on it.
Klaus puts a hand on her shoulder, turning her not ungently to face him.
"We are leaving before dark. You need only pretend to tolerate me for a few more hours. Afterwards-,"
"What, Klaus? Afterwards what? You'll take me fishing? I'll magically forget everything about you and we'll be Facebook friends?
She knows her control is slipping but it feels too good to stop now. It's easier, it's such a relief, to fling these words at him.
"You just play with people's lives because you're bored, just like you're playing with those people's lives in there by letting them think you're an actual human being- "
"Oh that's laughable. Really, it is. Because no one's ever played with your life, have they? No one's ever treated your existence like a bargaining chip to protect their own interests, certainly not anyone you call friend."
"That's different! I was trying to protect people -,"
"And who's protecting you, hmm? Getting you out of Mystic Falls was easier than taking candy from a child, or perhaps I missed the legion that showed up to prevent you from leaving."
They are so close now she has to crane her neck to meet his gaze. "I kept them away, it was my choice. If it wasn't for you-,"
"Oh be honest, love, you're not angry with me. I'm just a convenient target. You're angry that they didn't try to stop you."
His words are like stones rippling a watery surface. Bonnie clenches her fists, her magic pulling and chomping at the reins.
"You have no idea what you're talking about."
She turns on her heel but he catches her elbow and whips her around. "You are not walking away from this, witch."
"Let me go."
He smiles, eyes goading her, "You know I'm right. Now go on, tell the truth, and shame the devil-,"
"I'm pregnant you asshole!"
If Bonnie had told him she was a leprechaun he couldn't have looked more dumbstruck.
"There, there's your truth. I'm pregnant, I'm eighteen years old, I have no money to my name, my friends are-," her voice cracks and magic slips from beneath her fingers. The wind rises to a strong gust, whipping through her hair.
"Bonnie-," he warns, glancing down at the water.
She yanks her arm away with a viciousness that surprises them both. The river is roaring, bubbling like a cauldron. " - and I'm stuck with you, of all people. God. What a sick joke. Have you ever cared about anything but yourself in your whole miserable life you selfish jerk -"
She never hears his reply.
The bridge gives out under their feet, and the river opens her boiling arms to receive them.
A/N: So first off, I'm absolutely floored by your reviews! I've never gotten so many reviews for a chapter before and I'm a bit overwhelmed, so thank you all. I'm having a lot of fun writing this, so hopefully it's a mutually satisfying experience.
PSA: On a more serious note, some of you may know the Standing Rock Sioux nation is currently fighting to stop construction of the Dakota Access Pipeline. The pipeline would not only disrupt their ancestral lands but threaten the Missouri River which, aside from being of deep spiritual and historical significance to many indigenous nations, is one of the cleanest and safest river systems left in the United States. If you have a minute, I urge you to read up on this issue and, more generally, to contribute when you can to keeping your local rivers clean and safe.
Until next time, thanks for all your support.
