A/N: Before I say anything else, just need to clear this up for folks asking in the reviews: Klaus is not the biological father of Bonnie's baby. I apologize if this wasn't more clear in the first two chapters, but Jake (the OC that's mentioned) is the bio-father. However, this doesn't mean Klaus won't end up being the baby's daddy for all intents and purposes. This fic is about found families and overcoming familial trauma, therefore the focus is not genetic inheritance but rather the choices we make despite that inheritance. Hope nobody feels misled!
Also, I know many of you are probably already reading these, but in case you aren't, here're some great new Klonnie fics that are a must-read:
"Hell With You" and "The Punisher" by the fudge is grumpy
"Truth Teller" by TheHedgeRider
"Adventures of a Bennett Witch and the Original Hybrid" by lilac17 (this one's a babyfic!)
All of these are published on FF dot net. Do read and show these talented writers some love!
Okay, I'm done. This chapter is the most action-based Klonnie thing I have ever written, and...the wackiest? So, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Hope y'all enjoy!
"Crossings are never undertaken all at once, and never once and for all." - M Jacqui Alexander
She's face down on his chest, a fact that takes a few seconds to register before she scrambles off.
Or tries to.
She doesn't get very far with a twisted ankle. Bonnie rolls awkwardly off the hybrid, wincing as she lands on her back.
Dark trees tower around them, hiding the sky from view. There's a river roaring far away, like a mother lamenting her lost children.
Klaus groans, rising to a sitting position. "Where the hell are we?" He rubs the side of his head, and his hand comes away covered in blood. "What did you do?"
"Nothing!" she protests, moving her wet hair out of her face, "one minute I was yelling at you, next thing we're in the river. Why didn't you tell me that bridge was old?"
"As if I could've gotten a word in edgewise."
"I actually remember you getting several words in," she retorts, then frowns, "wait...why are you still bleeding?"
Klaus touches the wound on his head. Blood is trickling down his neck and staining the neckline of his grey t-shirt. He stands shakily and tries to move with vamp-speed, but it's gone. He swears in some strange language and takes stock of his surroundings.
"Witch, if this is your doing-,"
"I didn't do anything!" she repeats, supporting herself against a tree. "I don't even know where we are-,"
Klaus gives her an impatient look, "We are clearly in some kind of liminal space. Pockets of ruptured Time, hidden at crossroads and bridges... didn't you read anything in that Grimoire of yours?"
"I was a little busy," she gritted out, "looking for a spell to kill you. And if you know so much about them, why'd we end up here?"
An almost comical scowl mars his face before a strange sound makes them both jump. A sudden piercing cry, like a bird and yet, too loud for any normal sized bird.
There's a scuttling. Something moving towards them at great speed. On many, many legs.
Klaus grabs her by the wrist and tugs her along. She stumbles and nearly falls.
"My ankle-,"
He mutters a curse and bends to pick her up. Bonnie shrinks away.
"You can't carry me and run."
"Do you have a better idea?"
Another wild shriek fills the sky. Bonnie hears the snapping and swishing of trees making way for something.
"Right, let's brainstorm on the journey," Klaus wraps an arm around her leg and hoists her over his shoulder like she's a sack of potatoes.
And he's off with her into the forest before she can say a word.
"Put me down."
The hybrid grunts. "Simon of Cyrene wished to put down the cross, but the Roman legionaries had other plans." His voice, though sardonic, is strained. Evidently his vampire strength has taken a hit as well.
He had run and then walked deep into the trees, until the strange, beastly sounds had faded. But he still kept trudging through the undergrowth, one arm holding her in place, the other breaking low-hanging branches out of their way. There's a dogged, steady pace to him that makes Bonnie wonder if he was accustomed to physical labor as a human.
"I think we can take a break -," she shakes her head to clear the dizziness from being upside down, "- and I'm probably gonna throw up."
That does it. He pauses in a small clearing and sets her down. Bonnie staggers, leaning heavily against a nearby tree trunk. When the throbbing eases from her temples, she hops over to a fallen log and sits gingerly down.
"Don't get too comfortable," he growls, flexing his shoulders and eyeing her warily. His grey t-shirt is stained with blood and dirt, his hair unruly like from a lover's fingers, and sweat runs down his neck. She has never seen him this disheveled, not even the night she almost killed him. Deep beneath her shock and exhaustion, Bonnie idly notes that disheveled suits him.
She shakes off that thought just as quickly. Just hold onto your sanity a bit longer, Bennett.
"That's not going to be a problem with you around," she retorts, then lifts her swollen ankle out of her battered Toms. "I need your help."
He raises an eyebrow, "Have you forgotten my vampire abilities are null and void here?"
"No I haven't, smartass. God, you people are annoying," she huffs, "I just need you to pop this ankle back into place."
"And have your screams bring that beast down upon us? I think not, love."
"I won't scream."
Klaus merely scoffs, "Brave show, sweetheart. But I think I trust my weary shoulder more."
She narrows her eyes, "You know, for someone who thinks I'm too self-sacrificing you seem really determined to play the victim right now."
She notes his startled look with triumph. "Fine," she mumbles. Without giving him a chance to respond, she reaches down and grabs her foot.
"Stop-,"
A sickening click, and the bone is back in the socket. She gasps, sweat breaking out on her brow. But it's done.
Replacing her shoe, Bonnie stands and tries a few steps. It hurts like hell, but it's bearable. She can walk, run if she needs to. She's a Bennett witch. She's endured worse before. And she's tired of being treated like a child.
She limps past a frowning Klaus.
"Come on Simon."
They decide to find the river again. If the water brought them here, maybe it could take them back.
The trees are thick and suffocating, blocking out the sun but trapping heat. And yet, for such a lush environment, there's no sign of a single living creature.
Except for the ominous scuttling and swishing they hear at intervals, but not close enough to be seen.
Yet.
She's bone-tired, her throat parched. Klaus maintains a stoic pace, but eventually even he slows down.
"Are we there yet?" Bonnie quips.
He runs a frustrated hand through his hair, "I can't smell the water."
A flash of inspiration strikes her. "Klaus, you can't smell it because your vampire abilities are gone - ,"
"Yes I'm aware of that, love," he snaps, exhaustion and bitterness cracking in his voice.
"Let me finish. You can't vamp out and I can't do magic, because both those things are drawn from a source of power that doesn't exist here. My magic is drawn from nature, vampires were created from an imbalance of nature. None of that matters here."
"And?"
She feels almost giddy, "Your wolf isn't. You can shift, and your wolf can track us to the river."
A strange look crosses his face but he recovers quickly, "A pretty theory, sweetheart, but werewolves are also creatures of nature, and therefore bound to the same rules."
Bonnie shakes her head, "Yes and no. The wolf is a part of you, it's who you are. Nothing can alter that." And she adds, because she can't resist, "Oh and by the way, I read that in my Grimoire."
To her dismay, Klaus doesn't seem impressed by her plan. In fact, he doesn't say much at all. Scowling, he starts to clear branches out of their way again.
"Let's keep moving."
She loses track of time. The forest feels endless, tangled and implacable and viciously green. She can't remember any other color.
Every muscle in her body is screaming for relief, until she can no longer take it.
Just when she thinks she'll collapse, Klaus stops and leads them to the shelter of a huge tree.
"Here," he says roughly, gesturing at the large raised roots, "we'll have some cover."
Bonnie sinks gratefully into their shelter, lying flat on her back. After her hours of exertion, the damp earth cushions her like a pillow-top mattress.
She closes her eyes briefly, trying to capture the smells and sounds that had greeted her just that morning. Coffee. Lemon verbena.
When she opens them, Klaus is seated next to her, bare-chested, elbows resting on his raised knees. His sweat-soaked shirt lies on the ground.
She notices a tattoo on his arm, a ship with a prow shaped like a wolf's head, and wonders if he drew it himself. There's so much she doesn't know about Klaus. Back in the regular world, all that mattered was his power to hurt people she loved. But here, out of time and place, Bonnie finds herself curious.
"Why did you make me come with you?"
He shifts slightly and she notices another tattoo, a flock of birds disappearing over his right shoulder.
"That hardly matters."
"It matters to me," she sits up on her elbows, "I'd like to know what I'm getting into. And you can spare me the poetry about luxuries and travel. I know you have a reason. You always have a reason."
He reclines against the tree now, revealing more of his tattoos, and and a casual expanse of toned chest. He seems as indolent and assured in his flesh as if he were a wolf incarnate.
"My reasons matter not, witch, because when we escape this accursed forest, you will return to Mystic Falls."
She sits up fully now. "Just like that? Why?" It's almost an accusation.
"Did you or did you not inform me that you are...with child?" he lingers amusedly on the archaic phrase.
Bonnie feels herself grow cold all over. She had pushed that bit of knowledge away, had almost forgotten. Now it crashes over her anew. "W-what does that have to do with anything?"
He rolls his eyes, "While your fortitude is admirable, and you are an extraordinarily powerful witch, my plans don't involve doctor's appointments and dealing with hormonal episodes."
Something about his tone incites her defensive ire."So you admit I'm an asset but you just can't deal with my being pregnant. A thousand years old and that's the sexist excuse you wanna fall back on?"
He frowns slightly, then looks her over, "And since when are you so eager to stay in my company? I thought you'd leap at the chance to reunite with dear old Jeremy. Nothing binds a man's love like his offspring, legally at least." There's a sneer in his voice, and Bonnie wants to curl into herself. His words, so casually strewn, cut like glass.
"Go to hell, Klaus." Her retort falls weak and tired. She huddles away from him and hugs her knees to her chest.
At length he says, "I suppose you will marry. No doubt Gilbert will abandon school and take up carpentry. You will try and fail at knitting. Eventually, when the gossip fades, you will blend in with the rest of them, settle down -,"
"He's not the father," she snaps. She's angry at him, but angrier still at the picture he paints, the calm domestic facade that would never be hers, the small town simplicity she had buried on her sixteenth birthday when her Grams told her what she was. That anger rises in her throat now, twists her voice, "I'll disappoint my dad, who knows where my mother is, my friends will go away to college and maybe remember to send postcards, and everyone and their dog will call me a slut for stepping out on dear old Jeremy, even though he- ," her pride prevents her from finishing that part of the sentence.
For the second time since they fell in the river, Klaus looks surprised. Then, a lazy smirk appears on his face. "Well thank goodness you aren't bringing another Jeremy Gilbert into this world. But tell me, who is the fortunate chap?"
"That's none of your b-,"
This time the shrill cry makes them both cover their ears. Something like wind is moving the trees, snapping branches and crushing leaves.
Klaus is on his feet in an instant. Bonnie follows. He grabs her elbow and tugs her along. They're running now, and each moment is agony on her ankle. Bonnie grits her teeth and uses Klaus' hand for support.
The Thing is getting closer, she can hear the strange clicks.
Just when she thinks she can run no longer, the tree line gives way, and they are at the edge of a wide ravine. Below them, the river thunders like a drum.
"Look!" she points at the rickety wooden bridge, a dilapidated twin of the one that had delivered them here. And somehow she knows that if they return there, if they return to the river, everything will be alright.
They jog towards freedom.
And then, a nightmare bursts from the trees.
Bonnie sees a scorpion tail, and hundreds of black, scaly legs, and an eyeless hole where the face should be.
It charges.
Some deep-rooted instinct kicks in. "Trees!" she yells at Klaus before seizing his hand and rushing to the lowest hanging branch. Bonnie swings herself up, grateful for her years in gymnastics. Klaus follows.
The Thing shrieks again, and the ear-splitting sound is almost their undoing. She nearly loses her footing, but quickly finds it again. Her heart is in her throat.
The branches take them higher.
At last, they find a suitable perch.
The Thing claws at the tree, tail lashing, but its strange armored body cannot make the climb.
Bonnie leans into the trunk, panting heavily. Her ankle is on fire. She doubts she could even walk on it now.
"What the hell is that?" she gasps, pointing down.
"You tell me, since you are so well versed in magical creatures."
"Really? Sarcasm, at a time like this?"
"I am half unclothed and hiding in a tree like a schoolboy. Sarcasm is all that remains of my dignity, love."
"I should push you off this branch."
She meant it as a jab, but his face clears and there's a sudden fierce look in his eyes, and the reality of their plight sinks in. She could push him off, she has more leverage than he does right now. The Thing would devour him, and she could make a dash for safety.
"Go ahead, love," he challenges in a low voice.
"No."
Her vehemence startles them both.
"You saved me earlier, even though you were a jerk about it. I won't repay that by killing you."
His eyes seem to pierce through her, as though taking her measure. "Nobility? At a time like this?"
"Some of us have more to our personalities than sarcasm." She narrows her eyes, "Guess you're going to throw me off."
Klaus grins, "Let's call that Plan B for now."
"Comforting."
The sun climbs no higher nor sinks lower in the sky. Time has no meaning here, no rules and limits. Everything is one, long, maddening day.
Her lips and throat are so dry they feel like cracked earth. Klaus seems to be faring only slightly better.
"Should've listened to me, and turned into a wolf," she croaks.
"I can't."
His words hang in the air.
She stares at him, dumbfounded, as he looks off into the distance. "I cannot...shift at will, only when the moon is full. The Spirits, it seems, have found another way to tamper with my birthright."
There's something in his voice she's never heard before, a sharp, bleak quality like a dead field in the wintertime.
"That's why you need a witch..."
"I need no one. A witch is a means to an end, so I can wrest back my freedom from the Spirits." There's a fierceness in his tone now, sharp and bright as a sword. His hands have a death grip on the branch beneath him. All at once, Bonnie feels a new kind of emotion. Not pity, not anger, but a sting of empathy.
She remembers her Biology class about wolves. They are social animals, living and hunting in packs. Their very nature stands in opposition to the selfish solitude of the vampire. Klaus might find a way to conquer this newest obstacle on the path to full hybrid status, but reconciling the two sides of his nature seemed about as likely as her living a regular small-town life.
Bonnie thinks of John and Hazel's idyllic farmhouse, how surreal it all seemed.
Klaus may not belong there, but neither did she.
Suddenly sad, she looks away from him.
"Good luck." She adds, lightly, "Hope you find the right witch for the job."
"Look." Klaus points below them. The Thing is lying down, its tail wrapped around the tree, its scaly back rising and falling in deep breaths.
Bonnie scans the area. Even if they manage to climb down without incident, they probably wouldn't make it to the bridge without Thing waking up.
"I wonder where its vital organs are located," Klaus muses, flexing his fingers.
"No way, you're not strong enough. You'll just make it angry."
"And what do you propose we do?" he snaps, "ask politely for a ride to the bridge?"
Bonnie glances down again. The beast also has two horns growing where its head should be. A wild idea clicks into place.
"Klaus, that's exactly what we're going to do."
"If this ends with your little brains pureed on the forest floor -," Klaus mumbles as Bonnie maneuvers over to him.
"Your idea was to punch a hellbeast so-,"
He growls but leans forward like she'd told him. Her ankle would hamper any attempts to climb down, but a dismount only needs one good leap. Bonnie says a silent prayer of thanks for the endless afternoons of cheerleading practice she and Elena had been subject to.
Wrapping her hands around the thick branch they were sitting on, she rises slowly to her feet. Pain stabs her ankle and calf, but she forces herself to focus on standing and grasping the branch above her head.
Her legs are trembling, sweat running down her back and neck. She bites her lip, trying to summon her composure.
Just when she thinks her limbs will buckle, Klaus' hands descend on her shins, steadying her. He doesn't speak, but a quiet strength flows from his touch that she doesn't question or consider, just accepts.
Deep breath in. Bonnie curls her lower body up to the branch she's gripping. Klaus gets under her and she carefully balances her feet on his shoulders.
"I can't believe I'm going along with this. The heat must be affecting my brain."
"Hush! You'll mess up the choreography." Her voice falters a little.
She takes another breath, bends her knees and prepares to jump.
But Klaus is still holding on to her feet. "It appears I underestimated you again, little witch," he says softly.
She thinks he may just have paid her a compliment.
Bonnie closes her eyes. Pictures a football field and her friends cheering in the stands. The smell of grass in the sun.
She jumps.
There's a brief moment when she feels hollow inside, like she is already bones and dust.
Then, muscle memory takes hold. She curls her body into a ball and surrenders to gravity. Her limbs open at the right time. Any other day, she would have landed on the beast's back graceful as a butterfly. But she's only working with one good ankle, and so she collapses on the back of its armor, legs splayed wide, clinging for dear life.
The Thing rears and shrieks, and Bonnie thinks her ears might burst. Flattening herself against the cold scales, she crawls to grab hold of the horns. The creature reeks of decay, and she almost gags.
"Bonnie!" she hears Klaus yell.
Thing is rearing wildly. She feels her grip slipping. Bonnie closes her eyes. Please.
Just then, she feels Klaus behind her. He has managed to clamber on. His arms reach around her so they're both grasping the horns.
He yanks the horns and kicks with his knee. The Thing takes off like a runaway horse, at a mad, skittering pace, desperate to throw them off.
When they pass the bridge, Klaus takes hold of her, pulls her against his chest and rolls them off. They land in a melee of limbs.
He's up in a flash, half-carrying her to the middle of the bridge. The structure is old and worm-eaten, the railings gone.
The Thing is now scuttling back towards them, a rabid foam dripping from its lipless mouth.
"We have to jump," Bonnie gasps, almost out of breath.
The river roars beneath.
He nods, and takes her hand. They stand on the edge.
For a split second Bonnie glances over her shoulder and sees the Thing so close she could reach out and brush its rows of teeth. Its throat gleams black as night, and she imagines disappearing into that night, like into a great smothering blanket.
It would be so much easier than jumping again.
But suddenly she's upside down, dangling over Klaus' shoulder.
He leaps and takes her with him.
When the force of their descent untangles them, Bonnie doesn't think, just fumbles and reaches for him until they're chest to chest.
Her head fits under his chin. His arms enclose her in a tight circle.
For three seconds of a free fall, they're just two bodies holding on to each other.
She expects the water to shatter her bones. Instead, the river is soft, soft as an embrace.
She's face down on his bare chest, his arms are still wrapped around her. Bonnie registers this fact but can't find the strength to move.
They are both wet and muddy, washed up on the riverbank. Her clothes are plastered to her body, and her hair trails web-like over the tattooed swallows on his shoulder.
"You weren't going to jump," Klaus murmurs.
The sun is still morning-soft. Their strange ordeal has only cost them a few minutes of this world, the world they have returned to. A passing breeze makes her shiver.
"You didn't give me a choice."
She waits for his reply but there's only the sound of birds, the soft rush of water, and his warm heartbeat beneath her cheek.
"Hazel will insist we stay another night before getting on the road," he then says almost casually, adjusting her as if he has no intentions of getting up right away.
"I thought - I thought I was going back to Mystic Falls...,"
He doesn't dignify that question with an answer.
He has made this choice for her too.
She thinks about asking him to release his grasp. She thinks about trying to wriggle free. But something nameless holds them both in place.
A/N: Till next time!
