A/n: Edited on 11/10/2015.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 12: How You Remind Me

Lynchburg, Virginia

Present - February 12,2011

Coffee had to be the best thing God created. The wonders of what caffeine can do to keep you up all night. It's phenomenal. Looking at the digital clock on his nightstand, the red letters glowed brightly.

4:07 AM.

Yeah, he had been up longer than he ever had before. However, with the situation at hand, he had to hold his ground until things changed. He always had to strategize the moves he made. It was necessary in order to survive the profession he had chosen. However, this was no career to brag about.

Ever since he could remember, hunting was in his blood. He was young when he killed his first vampire. That seemed ages ago, but that didn't matter. Once he made his first kill, everything had changed. Nevertheless, as a hunter you can't just kill at random, there are rules and people to take into consideration. Like any hunter, first there was training that needed to be done. One of the recurring reasons to go into the hunter lifestyle is a tragedy in their lives caused by or involving the supernatural. Typically, a hunter's first kill is a vampire; vampires are a much safer evil to kill and are the leading cause for the transformation into a hunter. Vaughn's first kill was the vampire who tried feeding off his parents in their native home of Scotland. From then on, he was trained, conditioned, to be a hunter.

The motel room he stayed in was enough for now. It was small, but had enough to provide for his basic needs. He didn't attract enough attention that would get him spotted, thankfully. He drank another cup of coffee before focusing back on the research. He didn't have his regular sources, which made getting information difficult; he had to go outside of his usual means, which proved to be a bit costly.

But, there were also new parties involved. They were now rising up. Soon enough, it would be time to balance it out.

{Louder Than Thunder}

Mystic Falls, Virginia

Present - February 12, 2011

Rebekah still hadn't been found, not that Elena was complaining though. She was rather relieved that the blonde Original had left the Salvatore abode. It slightly relaxed her, despite everything that's happened. Klaus wanted to kill her…again, which seemed normal these days. Someone always had something against her. She wondered often why that was. She didn't do anything wrong.

She got out of Damon's bed the only sound in the room came from her feet padding across the floor to the large closet to change into something suitable. While walking down the grand staircase she could hear Damon in the front, instead of moving to greet him Elena went to the kitchen to fix something for breakfast. She was hungry for blood.

She heard Damon coming back inside. Seeing his face, she already saw his mood wasn't in a high-quality place. Distant and faraway. Choosing something quick, she started to gather the gallon of milk, cereal, and a bowl.

"Hey," she called to him, "do you want something to eat?"

"No," he said curtly.

Elena sighed heavily. God, he was being so difficult. Not that she was surprised about it. Damon had complicated written all over him.

Out of the corner of her eye, Elena watched as he slumped in the chair, his mouth was covered in the dried blood from his earlier feeding, thankfully with evidence of the blood bag in his hand; they would not have to deal with a body this morning.

An uneasy silence started to sink between the two of them. It's been like this for a while. Ever since Caroline's death, more distance pushed between them making it hard to come closer again. Being with Damon, she thought that maybe things would become less complicated. Elena knew the risks she was taking, but she thought that she was doing the right thing. No love triangles. No indecisive decisions. She chose him in the end, but Elena couldn't figure out what was wrong. They were supposed to become closer with every hurdle they faced. Not heading farther than they were from the last one.

With her appetite disappearing, she went to sit down with Damon hoping to see that she could get through to him. She had broken through to him under Kol's compulsion.

"Damon, why aren't you being honest with me?" Elena asked, grasping his hand across the table. Damon didn't react, but he didn't pull away. That's when Elena confirmed it. "Say something."

"Have you heard back from Stefan?" Damon changed the subject releasing his hand from her grasp.

"Don't deflect me, Damon. Tell me what's wrong." Elena stayed firm and unyielding to what she wanted. However, what she did not know was that she was pressing something onto Damon until he was going to explode.

He stiffly stood up walking away from his girlfriend trying to get himself to calm down. He hoped she got the message that he didn't want to talk. "Now is not a good time, Elena."

Elena was now at the end of her rope. When is he ever going to be honest with her and not so wishy-washy? Is it really so hard? "When is it ever going to be a good time for you, Damon? How many times do I have to prove to you that I love you? You're enough for me. Don't you get it?"

"Any time for you was always good enough for me. It's always been on my end that I gave it all. I loved you. I wanted you. I have proven to you a million times how I feel. I've always been honest with you. What more do you want from me?" Damon replied, tired of going in circles with this argument that Elena refused to leave alone.

"I want you to stop thinking that you lost the fight. To stop thinking that I don't love you. I want you to stop confusing my feelings for you and to stop thinking that it's only the sire bond." She answered with fervor in her voice. She loved him. She may not have known at the time, but she knew now. She loved him, and nothing would change.

However, it didn't get through Damon. He kept shaking his head with disbelief evident on his face. "That's the whole point, Elena! The only proof we have in front of us is the sire bond. With this 'sire bond' crap between us, how am I supposed to really know? Excuse me, if I haven't been speaking to you about all of my feelings like you were my therapist!"

"I'm just so tired of trying to get around the walls you keep putting up between us! What happened to honesty? Or is that gone too because of the sire bond?"

"Elena, just drop the subject. I don't need this." Damon had to get out of this before he would do something he would regret. He didn't want to hurt her.

But, Elena didn't want to stop. She pressed on further. Elena's true colors and frustrations began to finally show. "At least Stefan had been honest with me!"

Dead silence.

An audible gasp came from Elena as she covered her mouth with her hand, regretful of what she had spoken of. She didn't see Damon's face. His back was turned to her. However, a bitter laugh escaped from his throat as the darker side of him took over.

"I'm so sorry, Damon. I didn't mean it." Elena pleaded, but her apologies were too late. The deed had already been done. There was no way she could take it back. There was no use in trying.

"No, it's okay. This is just what I needed. After all, I'm nothing like my honest little brother." Elena could see the darkness rearing its ugly head. She backed away from him almost tripping in the process. Damon tilted his head in wonder and confusion, but in a mocking "What's the matter? This was what you wanted, isn't it? You wanted me to be honest. This is my honest nature. I'm a vampire. Nothing about me will change. I am not going to change."

Elena could feel him teetering on insanity but he didn't care. "I feel sorry for the lost soul that becomes my next victim. Then yet actually, I'm not. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to order some human takeout." The older vampire sped away into the forest in search for some poor human to sink his fangs into as his next meal, leaving his girlfriend behind.

Elena was left alone regretting everything that had just happened. She blamed herself for all of this. It was her fault.

Meanwhile at Sheila Bennett's house...

"It's gotta be around here somewhere." Bonnie said as she rummaged through the piles of boxes in the musty old attic of her late Grams' house.

"I'm not surprised if you can't find it. My mother-in-law horded things like a pack rat." Rudy wasn't comfortable still in this house, although the owner of the house had been dead and gone for a while. All of the witchy vibes were giving him the creeps.

Bonnie ignored her father's plights trying to search through yet another box in the endless sea of them. As she continued searching, she was running out of luck. There had to be something here, anything that her Grams had stashed that could help clear the mystery she was trying to solve. Then when it seemed all hope was lost, she decided to look at one more box before she left. Her olive-green eyes scoured to the last box waiting in the dark gathering dust in the corner.

"Dad, can you hold the flashlight over here?" She indicated the box's location pointing to it with a single finger.

Her father held the light above the box showing its content. She browsed through the endless dusty junk, until something familiar stuck out. Her eyes widened seeing the old familiar book in her hands. "No way…"

"What's wrong, Bonnie?"

"Nothing's wrong. It's just - wow. I never thought I would see this again." She held the heavy book in her hands, blowing the years of dust and dirt from the worn hardback. She browsed the old worn and aged pages familiar with the spells and Latin incantations that worked along with them.

"What is that?" Rudy asked not familiar with his daughter's heritage.

"It's Emily's grimoire. It's like a family journal of spells and stuff. Damon stole this a while back. I'm surprised to find it still here." Bonnie clarified. "I think that maybe it. I'm going to check the box one more time. Can you hold this?"

Her father reluctantly grabbed the heavy book, unsure of whether he should be handling such matters. But, this was going to help his daughter so he kept his mouth shut. As he went to the last page of the book curious about it inside, his eyes came upon a sealed envelope taped to the inside of the hard cover addressed to his daughter.

"Bonnie," he spoke catching his daughter's attention.

"What?" Bonnie was puzzled at the sight of an envelope in her father's hand as he held the book.

"It's for you. I found it in here. I didn't open it." Bonnie walked up to her father and took the letter out of his hands. Looking on the front, it had her name addressed, but she recognized that handwriting anywhere.

"It can't be." She tore through the envelope, throwing the useless trash across the room. Bonnie opened the piece of paper reading the words on the letter. Letting out a shuddering breath, her knees buckled underneath, losing function. She sat on her knees with her thin, dark hair framing her face covering her emotions. Tears pricked her eyes as read her Gram's words, almost playing inside of her head like a record player.

Hey baby,

If you're reading this, I assume that you've found Emily's grimoire. I snagged this away from that elder Salvatore. Arrogant piece of work he is. As you know, this had been in our family for generations passed down from witch to witch with Bennett blood. Baby, you know everything that I have belongs to you. You are destined for greater things. Don't be afraid to accept help no matter where it comes from. Always be on your guard, but I trust that you can use your own instincts. I will warn you, though. There are even secrets in our family that you don't know about. Through years of secret research, I managed to find out what I need. It might help you to find some answers. Who knows? It's up to you on what you want to do. I'm so proud of who you are. Moreover, I will always love you.

Sincerely and with love,

Grams

Bonnie dropped the letter out of her hands letting it float down to the ground softly. Her body slightly quivered trying to contain herself. Sensing her distress, her father laid a hand on her shoulder gingerly, not sure how to comfort her. "Do you need to go home?"

"No," she said slowly trying to catch her breath, "not yet. There was something else. I didn't finish reading it."

Getting herself together straight, she picked up the letter again and resumed reading her Gram's words.

Now, like I told you before. There are secrets in this family that no one else knew until I found it myself. It took a lot of time and effort, but I did it. Nevertheless, you know if anyone found this letter knowing that there is a secret location, it wouldn't be a secret anymore. To help you out, I gave you a riddle only you would figure out. Think on this carefully.

…To find something unknown by blood
You have to look into the captured past
Of one who was lost, but never found
Once you found your answer that lies there
Beneath the past it goes reminiscence
And the answer will be revealed…

The riddle marched through her brain as she concentrated on figuring out the answer. Lost in her thoughts, Bonnie didn't hear her father taking the letter from her as he read it himself. "I still don't know how you can figure this out. If my memory serves me right, your grandmother was one tough cookie."

Captured past…reminiscence…Memories!

That's it!

"I got it," she said with a snap of her fingers. Dragging her father's hand, she urgently quickened her pace to try to get out of the attic. "Come on! We have to go!"

"Let me at least get the book. It's heavy as it is." Bonnie rolled her eyes before she hurried down the ladder to get down into the living room of the old house. In a part of the room, there was an old wooden trunk. She remembered the old trunk having all of the warm blankets on those cold winter nights she spent having sleepovers with Elena and Caroline. Times have changed since those days.

Bonnie took the hand-sewn blankets out into a neat pile away, revealing sets of photo albums from her family. Then removing those, her eyes feasted to what could be the key to all of her questions. Several older leather-bound journals were hidden under the photo albums. It made sense now. Grabbing the first journal, she opened the clasp that kept the journal closed. Turning to the first page, there was a name written in the corner of the page.

{Louder Than Thunder}

Outside of New Orleans...

Past - February 18, 1910

Three weeks passed since their journey to escape New Orleans. Out in the countryside, you hear less of the man-made and more of nature. Everyone has their preferences of where they want to live. Klaus never told anyone why he chose this plantation of all places to hide out. Jean had come to her own conclusion when she first saw the place. Seeing the plantation, it was like stepping into another world. To put it lightly, it was like stepping into a painting.

Everywhere Jean's eyes landed on, there was endless color and life. Plants of many varieties lived and continued to grow despite the harsh chill of winter. The plantation stood tall, majestically, with stone and wood as its handiwork. As a daughter of a historian, Jean easily distinguished the Spanish and French influences in the architecture.

She was caught up in the phenomenal wonders of the property when-

"Jeannette Delilah!" Adelaide's voice rang out from the house. Jean instinctively cringed at the use of her first and middle name with such a tone that hung in the witch's speech. Even from when she was a young girl, any time someone called her name like that, she knew that she was in trouble.

"What did I do now?" She asked to herself, looking up at the crisp blue sky. She chuckled seeing Adelaide marching her way over to Jean, furious as hell. The witch made her way to the werewolf, her eyes flashing in anger with her hands on her hips.

"You've got some explaining to do." The witch reminded her, which Jean just shrugged off.

"I'm sure whatever I did wrong, I can make it right. What's wrong now?" Jean was sure of where Adelaide's scolding was going to come from. She could smell the musk of whiskey on the Creole witch. Adele had been searching through her stuff.

"Jean!" Her name was called before Adelaide could finish what she had to say.

"I can't exactly say I've been saved by the bell, but this was good enough for me." A small teasing smile plastered on her face as she got away from Adelaide's motherly nagging.

"One day that girl will be the death of me…" Adelaide said, still looking out for Jean ever since that girl could walk and talk. She looked up to second story windows, seeing Maggie staring back at her watching the interaction between the witch and werewolf. The bitter stare was enough to show Adelaide of how displeased the young witch was. Adelaide didn't blame her.

Sighing heavily, she made her way back inside. Adelaide could only dream of a simpler situation.

Meanwhile, Jean sped over to Charlene and Caroline as they sat under the old willow tree in the backyard filled with acres of land. Leaning casually against the think tree, she asked, "Whatcha doing?"

"Just talking," Charlene replied carefully.

Jean laughed and slapped the witch lightly on her back. "Don't be so jumpy. I can smell fear you know. And, I'm not trying to scare you either. I'm just being literal. Lighten up, I can be one of the funniest people you would ever meet."

"Oh, really?" Caroline wondered if this was truly the same wolf she had fought back in New Orleans.

"Look," Jean started, "I'm not here to start trouble. Adelaide is already breathing down my neck, and I've only been back with her for a couple of weeks. She probably knows one of my problems already."

"Adelaide was always the motherly type," Charlene said in agreement.

Jean looked at the witch in surprise. She sat down in between Caroline and Charlene, feeling the cool grass under her. Surprised, but pleasantly asked, "So, you know exactly what I'm talking about?"

"Oh, yeah. Here's a good example. She would never let us have free time unless we finished our chores and finished practicing our spells." Charlene recalled, hearing the witch tending to her and Maggie inside all of her memories.

"Basically, she was like a mother figure to you?" Caroline asked, more interested about the relationship between the witch and the werewolf. She had never heard of any tale of a witch raising a werewolf. Of course, living in a small town in Mystic Falls isolates you from a good portion of things.

Jean shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, she's the closest thing I've had to a mother in my life."

"Where are your real parents?" Charlene's caring concern reined through her actions as she scooted closer to the werewolf, trying to hear the conversation more.

"Dead." Her curt tone should have been enough of a message for the girls to comprehend. Jean's family was a sore issue. Jean didn't want to dwell on the memory, and she didn't want to talk about them either. Shutting away her negative thoughts, the werewolf bounced right up out of her spot, an idea spruced up into her brain that she couldn't pin down.

"Come on," she urged them to follow her.

"Where are we going?" Caroline asked, unsure of what the werewolf was planning.

"Somewhere. It's totally obvious," Jean joked as a sly smile appeared on her face. "Follow me! The last one there is a rotten egg!" Jean zoomed at a fast pace past the two blondes, with her short brown whipping behind her.

Caroline laughed for the first time in weeks. "Oh, no you don't! You're not going to leave me behind again." Ready for round two, Caroline followed suit after Jean and raced after the werewolf.

Charlene was at a loss. Of all the benefits she had as a witch, speed wasn't to her advantage. She was still mortal in that department. "Wait for me! I don't want to be left behind!" At her best human speed, she tracked the girls' footprints on the dirt trail that led to a huge building. It took her a few minutes longer than the other two supernatural females to catch up. Catching her breath, she said, "May I please remind you both that I'm not a werewolf or a vampire? I'm not as fast as you."

"It's not all that bad. I rather have the power to kick ass than be fast. Take full advantage of that. You never know when you might need it." Jean advised to the witch, lightly laughing.

"Just you wait. One day…" Charlene's voice trailed off as her eyes found the place that the girls resided at for the moment. Her mouth gaped in amazement seeing the old, but beautiful wooden stables. The smell of fresh hay and grass permeated the air.

"Wow…" Charlene said breathless.

"That's the same reaction I had earlier." Caroline stated in agreement, loving the natural feel and beauty of the horse stable.

"Follow me, y'all. I know this place like the back of my hand." Jean boasted confidently as she walked inside with the girls closely behind her.

The horses came out from their stalls, with their heads sticking above the open part of the doors. There was a whole array of horses ranging in many colors, the colors in between the horses' coats extended from white, gray, black, brown, and many more shades in between.

"Jean, do you have a horse?" Caroline asked, gazing at the beautiful creatures one by one.

Jean nodded happily. "Yup, I sure do or at least I have a favorite."

As they walked closer to Jean, she clicked her tongue a few times calling her horse over. A loud voice was heard coming from the stall. The head of a tall chestnut horse sauntered over to Jean, peering over the opening, and neighing to the young woman. Caroline couldn't help but noticed the taut lean muscles of Jean's steed. Its nice glossy coat was a nice reddish-brown. All four of the horse's legs had black stockings that started from its knees and stopped at its hooves. It had a matching black mane, tail, and muzzle. There was also a white marking on its head that stopped to the middle of its long snout. Taking in the horse's full height, Caroline almost backed away in fear.

"Hey, boy." Jean spoke softly as she hugged the stallion's neck. The horse nickered lovingly in response to her.

"He loves you, what's his name?" Charlene commented, smiling at the cute affection.

"He does, but he's a showoff. His name is Trouble. He and Luce tend to fight each other sometimes." Jean explained as stroked her horse's mane.

"Luce?" Caroline asked in confusion.

"That's what I call him. I don't know what his real name is. Take a look, but don't get close to him. He's an aggressive one, yeah." Jean warned them, but didn't clarify further than that. Seeing Luce was going to be good enough of an explanation. Jean stayed close to Trouble knowing her horse wouldn't take it kindly to her giving his rival attention.

Caroline and Charlene saw a tall dark, black stallion eating out of a feed trough. He stood not much taller than Trouble, and appeared menacing. The fur was solid black with no hint of light markings; the horse sensed the girls' presence. Not liking strangers, the hostile stallion quickly charged to the gate, hot air exhaling from his nose as he blown. Both of the girls stood still, wary of angering the horse.

"You said his name is Luce, right?" Char recollected Jean's words from earlier.

"Yup, short for Lucifer. That horse acts like a demon most of the time, I swear. It's no wonder he's what's-his-name's horse. Klaus, I think..." Jean commented, trying to ease Trouble from agitating the other horse. Trouble stomped his hoof against the ground, getting antsy. Lucifer in reaction snorted and neighed lowly in the presence of his rival.

Caroline rolled her eyes and scoffed. Typical. She should've figured that the most volatile and dangerous of horses would belong to Klaus. How could she not forget? The horse suited him considering his cold, black heart.

"I think we should probably get going. Right Caroline?" Charlene gestured back to the entrance with her head. They backed away from mean, black stallion, letting him to go back to finish his meal.

"Good idea." Caroline agreed. Both of them slowly sneaked away towards their exit, but Jean had other ideas.

"Hold on a second! Y'all are so not going to leave me hanging here. You haven't met the other horses yet." Jean stated, coming forward with her hands on her hips. "I'll show you. Char, you go the stall near you. Caroline, you go to the stall next to Trouble."

Each of the girls went over their instructed places and waited for the horses to come out. For Charlene, a black and white spotted horse approached. Cautiously, she moved forward the spotted horse, stretching her hand out in order for the horse to smell her. Its dark eyes blinked once, then lower its nose, landing inside of the witch's palm. Sniffing the Charlene's scent, she detected no harmful intent from the girl. Only found slight nervousness within her. The gentle and patient horse softly nickered to Charlene, welcoming her as an introduction. Charlene smiled softly at the beautiful feeling of the velvety soft nose as she rubbed it.

As for Caroline, she approached the stall too, curious as to what her horse looked like. Her eyes widened seeing how intricately beautiful this horse was. It was obvious that it wasn't just any common breed. The horse had a refined, wedge-shaped head, a broad forehead, large eyes, large nostrils, and a small muzzle. The horse had very lean and refined muscles, but it wasn't over the top. What made this horse stand out the most particularly was the grayish-almost white fur that glinted in the patches of sunlight through the stalls.

Noticing someone by its gate, the defined horse stopped eating, and came up to the girl studying her. Her eyes were fully erect and forward, indicting an alert and pleasant attitude. The horse studied her with observing eyes. She was odd this one, but, of course, the horse has been around strange presences before so it was nothing new. Detecting no fear or ill will from the girl, it lowered its head trying to nibble on her hair, looking like fresh hay.

"No, don't do that," Caroline reprimanded the horse softly. The horse snorted mockingly.

"I knew she would do that," Jean commented as she came to both of the girls' aid.

"So, both of them are females?" Charlene asked, petting the spotted horse's fur.

"You got that right. The one that you have is Lily May. She's an Appaloosa. That breed was originally from the country of Spain. After a few of the violent exchanges between the Spanish and the Indians, the Indians acquired more of the spotted horses making them more common in this country. Lily is usually patient until someone riles her up," she explained to Charlene before she turned to Caroline, "Now, your horse is a whole new breed of its own. The horse you have is originally from the Middle East. An Arabian. Very intelligent and versatile. You can tell in the characteristics that it's a foreign breed. Her name is Zariya. She's sweet, but is also very stubborn. She likes to play a joke now and then as she did just now. She loves food too."

"We get to ride them?" Caroline questioned Jean, happily imagining herself riding on a beautiful mare such as Zariya.

"Not without the proper technique and training," Jean clarified in a teasing manner. "Especially when you need the right gear." Jean walked toward a thick wooden door pulling out a key to unlock it and revealed a whole room with nothing but tack and gear situated inside. "So, tell me. Are you girls one of those side-saddle types or are you ready to ride like a real rider?"

Jean's playful smile said it all. Caroline and Charlene were in for one wild ride.

Later on that night...

It was later during in the evening at the plantation, most of the others were already asleep in their respectable rooms. The only ones who stayed awake were Klaus and Jean. As Klaus was occupied with his own errands, the werewolf kept herself busy in the library mulling over her thoughts. Jean had a lot of her mind.

The atmosphere of old books, knowledge, and silence remained familiar to her. Sometimes she loved being in a library by herself with just her thoughts as company. Silence abounded when she studied or when she was caught up in a good book. Truthfully, she only read books occasionally; words bored her and lost her interest. Jean was a woman of action. She loved to see the excitement in front of her, and she would rather do something more worth of her time. She didn't recall signing up to do errands for a vampire.

However, a library reminded of her of memories she'd rather not see again. Jean loathed staying in the same room of knowledge with whose company she detested. Her father.

As she thought of him, her fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles turned white. The glass bottle of whiskey she had been drinking before it broke into sharp pieces; the shards of broken glass sliced into her palm causing blood to ooze from the self-made wound. Her copper-colored eyes squinted in disgust as she noticed the dark stain in the rug.

"Shit, he's going to be angry at me now." She cursed lowly under her breath. She was too tired to clean this up.

"I'm not angry, but you have to know that the rug is Persian." Klaus spoke, striding in like the king of the property.

Jean turned around and rolled her eyes. "That doesn't make it much better, does it? I still stained the rug."

"Let the servants clean that mess, there are more important matters to attend to."

"No, I rather doing things myself." The werewolf proceeded to clean up her mess, clearly disobeying an order from the Original. Not that she cared.

Klaus' blood boiled slightly once again, his frustration and annoyance arising from the rebellious pup. Though there weren't many interactions between them, both vampire and werewolf made their dislike of each other known ahead of time. The feelings were mutual. To Klaus, she was just a rebellious pup who got on his nerves. To Jean, he was just another control freak who pissed her off.

"You're here for a reason," Jean said as she slowly picked out the pieces of bloody glass from her hand. "And, I think I have a good idea why you're here this time of night. You might as well come out and say it."

"Then you remember what I asked for earlier." Klaus mentioned.

The only reason Jean had even done this for him was because of the coaxing from her closest confidante and motherly figure. If it weren't for Adelaide, she would gladly leave him in the dark in his search for the knowledge he was seeking out. Jean wasn't surprised that she would have to tell Caroline soon enough, if what he had proposed was correct after all. It was a long shot, but it was still possible.

"Let me see if I have this right. You think that this sort of "bond" that you have with Caroline has something to do with what I think it is?" Jean said flabbergasted at his proposition. She ran a hand through her hair wracking her brain to think.

"Would it really hurt to look?" Klaus exasperated.

She shook her head. "You have to understand that what you're saying is very rare, and it has hardly happened before. It's a snowball's in chance in hell. You should know that at least." The werewolf's stubbornness and skeptical outlook didn't help the Original

"You know what I want you to do." He told her.

"I do what I want, Klaus. I ain't your lapdog. Just understand that, the only reason why I'm doing this is because Adelaide asked me to. Frankly, I don't give a damn about your agenda. You do your part, and I will do mine. End of story."

Klaus watched as she turned away from him, burying herself farther into the books and whiskey.

Looking at her one more time, he left the busy werewolf to the job she had to get done without saying another word to her. No point in wasting words.

Coming across the foyer, he started walking slowly up the winding, grand staircase. When he came to end of the last step he wondered around aimlessly through the quiet halls of the plantation. Thoughts of a certain blonde hybrid plagued him. Unable to kill the impulse, his feet lead him to Caroline's bedroom door. His hand landed on the doorknob softly, without making a sound, he veered the knob to the other direction peaking in on Caroline's sleeping form. Her pale, golden blonde hair fanned the entire pillow as she slept on her side. Her back was away from the wall, silvery moonlight came through the open window, lighting up her face in an almost white light.

Her breaths were even as she slept. Her undead heartbeat kept its steady rhythm at seventy-two beats per minute.

He sauntered over closer to the edge of the bed. She was truly a desirable entity. More so than he ever met before, but he hated it, he hated having such a weakness. But, does this actually count as a weakness? By what charts or statistics have the backup documentation to classify what encompasses weakness?

The want to touch her was almost overwhelming. He raised his hand to try to close the distance between them. It was only by a couple of feet. Just to stroke her hair back feeling the soft texture would be enough for him. Just as he was about to succeed, Caroline hummed in her sleep and changed positions, turning her body into Klaus's direction. Afraid of being caught, he let his hand fall back to his side.

That was far too close for comfort.

Love is a vampire's greatest weakness. And, Klaus certainly was not weak.