"He watched her every move and when she left the room, his eyes allowed her reluctantly to go."

― Maya Angelou, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings


Frost was melting down the glass.

The champagne bottle was chilling inside the silver ice bucket on the small antique table while Caroline repeatedly grumbled as she shuffled the newspaper pages.

She tapped her foot on the soft carpet anxiously wanting to scream.

She was in the VIP area room of one of the most expensive boutiques in New Orleans and despite the luxury that surrounded her she could not enjoy this. A long time ago even being in a place like this would have been a dream coming true but right now she felt she was suffocating. More than a month had passed and there was no progress with getting out this freaking city or even Klaus' house and she knew all too well that when it came to the latter he was to blame. It could not be a coincidence and she wanted nothing more than to return back to the compound and give that stupid Hybrid a piece of her mind!

A sweet scent encircled her. Chanel N°5 and…blood.

"Would you like anything else Miss?" the impeccably dressed shop assistant Kol had compelled asked her politely as she placed a tray of chocolate truffles next to the champagne and the strawberries.

Caroline's mouth salivated, her eyes fixating on the throbbing vein in the brunette's neck that pulsated in the tempo of the constant beating of her heart.

Fragile human heart pumping so much delicious blood.

Caroline spaced out, her eyes darkening with bloodlust, and she leaned just an inch closer her fangs tickling the edge of her gums-

"I would not mind a more upbeat tune darling," Kol waved his hand boringly as he walked out of the fitting room and stood in front of one of the mirrors nonchalantly watching his reflection.

"Of course Mr. Mikaelson," the girl brightly smiled, eyes all glossy, and went away; Caroline blinked disoriented and tried to focus on her surroundings again.

"Music has definitely been one of your century's greatest and worst achievements," Kol noted as he straightened the lapels of the jacket he was trying and inspected the result in the mirror.

Caroline quickly took the bottle and filled her empty glass with more bubbly Dom Perignon 2003 Rosé that she quickly drank in one go making Kol snort at her brutishness. And if Kol reacted like that Caroline could only imagine how the always proper Elijah Mikaelson would.

She tried to tame her increasing and tantalizing bloodlust, that seemed to become more feral with each passing day, before she looked at Kol and grimaced.

"No," Caroline rejected one more of Kol's choice in jackets. She got up from the velvet sofa and took one of the black lightweight jackets the assistant had left on the hangers. She swiftly removed the jean blazer Kol was wearing and helped him wear the one she chose. Her gaze was sharp as she scrutinized the outcome with a critical eye.

"Better," she only said and went back to the sofa while Kol enjoyed his reflection in the mirror.

"Perfection," he smirked and Caroline shook her head in exasperation knowing all too well that he was talking about himself and not just the jacket.

When she retrieved the paper Kol walked at her and snatched it from her hands.

"Hey!"

He threw the newspaper on the side and clicked his tongue ignoring the dirty look she was giving him.

"I brought you along-"

"Dragged along," she snapped at him and served herself one more glass of champagne.

"To help not to sulk!" he finished as if she had not interrupted him and Caroline gave him the evil eye.

"I am not your little helper Kol," she groused and Kol stared at her mockingly from head to toe.

"You could have fooled me," he chuckled and she glowered at him with so much indignation making him laugh.

"Come on now darling," Kol coaxed her trying to soothe her impatience with his charm, "in our lovely fiery home," he sighed with nostalgia as if he was missing Purgatory, "you had told me you were a fashionvista."

"Fashionista," she corrected him shaking her head.

"So this is fun. You have the perfect model and endless resources," Kol winked at her and admired his reflection again.

"Compelled resources," she grouched and pinched her nose.

"Exactly," he beamed at her, "go nuts," he encouraged her and Caroline's lips curled and she stared at the ceiling counting backward from ten.

"I am about to!" she grit out and feeling the need to go eat the assistant again.

Kol laughed but this time his eyes were glued to the mirror.

"Admit it. I look good!" he bragged with a cheesy grin and Caroline looked sideways with an uneven smile. This was Purgatory all over again! But this time instead of searching lakes to admire his looks he was doing it in front of a mirror.

"Oh please," she mumbled exasperated, "are you going to drool over your reflection too?"

"Touchy touchy!" Kol laughed, "how is that bloodlust treating you?" he mocked and Caroline gave him a taunting smile.

"Why? You're offering?" she threw at him and Kol smirked.

"I wouldn't want you to make a mess of my new shirt love," he played along before he turned around and tilted his head to the side, "wait… you not hitting on me, are you? I know I am gorgeous but still," he teased and Caroline pulled a face.

"Ah, gross!" she grimaced looking horrified.

"Good, I would hate for Nik to curve me a new liver," Kol remarked somewhat seriously and Caroline threw him a glare full of disdain.

He threw his hands up in surrender before he went and flopped down on the couch next to her. He took his glass and pointed at the newspaper she had opened again.

"No luck I imagine?" he chuckled and sipped his champagne.

"Luck has nothing to do with it," Caroline complained, her breath coming out in angry waves, "there was one particular I could get but somehow it became unavailable at the last minute. Imagine that!" Caroline grumbled and tore the paper with menace making Kol snigger.

"Let me guess… someone intervened?" he guessed with an innocent tone and Caroline elbowed him. Hard.

"Stupid controlling someone," she mumbled peeved.

"Stupid controlling someone that can compel the walking talking blood bags…like you can too," he reminded her and munched a strawberry.

"As if I would stoop that low," Caroline spurned.

"Said the Mary Sue humanitarian vampire," he sarcastically muttered crunching his nose, "anyway enough with all that pedestrian peasantry," Kol waved at her dismissively and Caroline crossed her arms angrily.

"Excuse me?"

Kol rolled his eyes at her offended stance making her rage.

"Sorry love but I'll side with Nik on that. You are not suited for the small life. Waitressing for a one-room apartment dump? That's a new low and there I thought Purgatory was the lowest."

Kol's lips twisted with distaste and Caroline narrowed her eyes tempted to agree with Klaus too. The appeal of daggering an Original surely was becoming more and more fascinating when spending more and more time with Kol Mikaelson. Unfortunately, even if she found one of those handy daggers and white ash to go with it she would literally drop dead if she daggered Kol and she would hate to return to their lovely fiery home again… but surely Klaus would not mind giving her helping hand right?

"What is it you with Originals and your snob-" she started but then cleared her throat and took a deep breath refusing to bite the bait, "no…you know what?...we are so not getting into that Kol," she snipped at him hating the fact that out of everything this would be the one thing Kol and Klaus would agree upon.

"Good. Let's get back to me," he happily accepted and this time it was her that rolled her eyes.

"Your favorite subject," she sardonically grunted and Kol nodded enthusiastically and she practically facepalmed.

Kol's expression turned pensive before he wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"Let us do formal too."

"What kind of statement?" she asked and placed the strawberries plate on her lap.

"Thrill and murder of course," Kol purred before he went to try more clothes.

"Of course," Caroline muttered chewing on a strawberry and watching her wrist clock.

They were going to be here all day, weren't they?


Caroline watched amused the scene that was unfolding in front of her and then went to the bar and served Josh and Davina their drinks. She quite liked Josh and the young witch. They were friends with Camille O' Connell and were frequently coming at Rousseau's. Day and night.

Josh was a baby vampire and Caroline realized that she had indeed wisdom to impart now that she was not one; and then there was Davina that from the looks of it was keeping a close on her and then was reporting straight back to Marcel Gerard. But she didn't mind. She had nothing no time to waste with a wannabe King and Davina was very powerful but also very young and kind of reminded her parts of her old self and…Bonnie.

Caroline could not help but wonder how things would have been for Bonnie if she, like Davina, had known and was brought up inside magic instead of growing up oblivious and then thrown into the supernatural world so violently. Maybe things would have turned out different for all of them. Maybe if they had known about the supernatural world and had been raised to shield and protect themselves against it their lives could have been better. Maybe they could have been saved from a lot of pain…or maybe not.

Caroline focused on Josh and pushed those thoughts back. Her mind kept racing back to Mystic Falls. Klaus had told her that Bonnie and Damon had returned back to the land of the living. Yay for the whole resurrection trend. They should make a fan club really. Or they could if she would ever reveal to her friends and family that she was alive and not dead.

She forced herself to smile and leaned over the bar and spoke quietly.

"You know he is totally checking you out right?" Caroline teased Josh that seemed a bit flustered as he peeked back at one of the tables. One of the men there, looking roughly at the same age as Josh was, was staring back at the bar. At Josh. And as far as subtle flirting went this was not it.

Josh turned around and twirled his drink in his hands.

"You know you are totally checking him out right?" Caroline quipped.

"He is a werewolf," Davina said and if that explained the awkward distance Josh was keeping despite the fact that he looked like he wanted to take it further and Caroline frowned at that.

"So?" Caroline wondered and Josh shifted in his seat.

"Josh is a vampire," Davina added as if she pointing the obvious.

"Vampire law and all," Josh mumbled and Caroline rolled her eyes.

"Seriously?" she exasperated and noticed the surprise her reaction caused both to Davina and Josh. Obviously, New Orleans was divided and many restrictions were put in place by the King of New Orleans. That guy was like Klaus number two but far more annoying. He had eyes and ears everywhere and acted as if he owned New Orleans and its residents and everyone acted as if he actually did. And all of his rules? Who came up with that stuff anyway?

That kind of nonsense was giving her a headache even though Damon Salvatore had reacted in the same way when they had learned about Tyler being a werewolf. It was like an unwritten law or something in the supernatural world for vampires and werewolves to be natural enemies and to never mix and match. From the looks of it, this notion was more strict here and even written down as an actual law.

Yep. Total nonsense.

"I dated a werewolf in the past," Caroline said, making sure to leave out the small hybrid detail, and ignore the lump that rose up in her throat from the memories she did not want to revisit, "The sex is definitely hot," she shrugged and Davina almost choked on her drink but Josh seemed quite intrigued.

Caroline beamed at him and Josh smiled in return.

"You think?" he asked and looked back at the table.

"Well, my motto is: boy likes boy, boy likes boy back. Sex!" Caroline exclaimed in a shushing voice, her locks bouncing up and down her face and Josh' eyebrows shot up. They both giggled and even Davina that was most suspicious of her burst out laughing.

Caroline winked at them before she went to clean one of the tables. She looked at the dim light that streamed from the windows.

This bar actually made her feel somehow as if she was back in a familiar place. The atmosphere was different for sure but working in this place many times brought back memories from the grill in Mystic Falls. She remembered Matt working at the bar and cleaning the tables like she was doing now. Those memories were both nostalgic and painful. She did not want to remember her old life. She only wanted to focus on the future. But that was not possible either since she was stuck in this city and could not make any long-term plans.

And how could she make any plans really when she had Klaus's attention looming over her head 24/7? Her thoughts drifted back to her predicament again.

She had caved and stayed for all these weeks in Klaus' house hoping that by staying there maybe she would be able to find a solution to her, stuck in NOLA without her consent, magical problem faster but it was no use. Neither Klaus nor Elijah could help her. Their witches all said what Davina had said. They could not break Esther's dimensional spell and not even Kol with all his witchcraft knowledge had been able to help her. It was useless. Staying with Klaus was useless. Having no personal connection in this damn place aside the Originals was not helping.

If there was one thing that was blatantly obvious was that Klaus and his family were making enemies faster than they were making friends. And at an alarming rate. Klaus and Hayley wanted to avenge the death of their daughter and Elijah wanted to establish their influence. She didn't have to live here permanently to know they were like a virus in this city just like they had been in Mystic Falls too. More so here actually.

The witches hated them. Everyone else feared them and cursed their existence. And those that didn't were siding with Marcel Gerard or independent factions of werewolf packs. And no matter which factions people belonged to, everyone, in the end, was plotting against them.

If anything staying with the Originals was not just putting a target on her back but was ensuring that no one that could actually help her would be inclined to do so. She was in this mess because of the Originals to begin with. Esther would have never targeted her otherwise. It was a mess and she stuck in a loop. She was a nobody here. She had no friends. No family. No freedom. How long would it take for her to end up as collateral damage again in someone else's war?

She was an unknown variable for most but she did not belong even inside Klaus' circle. Elijah Mikaelson viewed her as a threat or a potential pawn. Kol was lost in his own revenge plans and whatnot and Hayley was another chapter altogether. And seriously…living in a place called The Abattoir and sharing a roof with Hayley was not helping her recovery. She went straight from a hellhole to the slaughterhouse.

Her bloodlust was driving her crazy and the worst thing was that she felt so out of sync and out of control. And for a control freak like her, there was nothing worse than that. And Klaus with his constant care was suffocating her. He was always so quick at helping her. He was like the fairy godmother she had never wanted. From the smallest things to the grandiose gestures. It drove her insane.

And he had the audacity to block her every attempt to move out. She hated using compulsion now. Moral objections aside it was dangerous for her to even attempt it. The last time she tried it she could barely concentrate enough and she almost lost control and went for the vein. It was a thin thread to use her vampire abilities even in the slightest. She had to find her own place the traditional way and it was not as if she could afford anything special for now.

She was afraid that in the end maybe she should throw caution to the wind and resort to compulsion after all and hope for the best. She didn't want to start her new beginning in this city –as forced as it was- like that but Klaus was leaving her out of options. She could only hope that his compulsion was not able to override hers because she knew that he was capable of playing this little game for as long as he needed so he could get his own way. And what was worse was that he was so smug about it.

Unless-

Unless she could find another way Caroline thought. Maybe if Klaus could not use compulsion, trickery or intimidation.

Caroline looked at Camille that was organizing the bottles behind the bar and bit her bottom lip.


Days later.

Brianna Devere was walking down the street cursing herself for her stupidity as she was trying to walk faster without drawing attention to herself.

Mist was rising and soon it would mix with the night and the grounds would not be safe for her. For her and any witch or human that would dare defy the danger of drifting around the city among vampires that had put a target on their back. She had lost time sanctifying the grounds around the home of a pregnant witch so to bless her and protect her and now she ended up walking in the most dangerous parts of the French Quarter.

It had been so weird though. The witch claimed to be oblivious to the fact that someone had planted amulets meant to drain the energy of all acting witchcraft in the perimeter of her house. She had called her because she had been feeling weak and Brianna had to sanctify the grounds only to discover and unearth the amulets. Who could have done that? Most of her magic got drained. It must have been a rival coven. As if they weren't already persecuted by the Originals. They had to engage in internal petty conflicts too!

Still, this was not an excuse. How could she have lost track of time like this?

Jazz music could be heard from far away but she was walking down the dark alleys trying to reach her hideout faster.

Her heart was beating faster and faster and then her pendant vibrated above her blouse. She immediately wrapped her fingers around the amethyst stone and inhaled a deep breath. Frost escaped her nostrils. She had enchanted the stone to detect the presence of vampires at a close distance.

All her instincts went into overdrive and she looked around scared. She could swear that someone, something, was hiding in the dark, lurking in the shadows.

She walked faster and the pendant felt hot in her hand. She grit her teeth. She had used most of her power reserve for helping the pregnant witch and now she felt as if she could barely tab into her powers.

She stumbled to the side when a shadow too fast for the eye to see passed by her side and threw her with force to the brick wall.

She looked around but she was alone. There were whispers and the wind; there was the fading jazz music from the background and the dim lights but there was no one there.

Brianna stood up and pushed her hand in front of her ready to defend herself. Sweat appeared on her forehead, her vein throbbing on her neck.

She looked around but there was no one there.

"Is anyone there?" Brianna Devere called out and gripped her pendant tighter with her other hand. She frowned when the stone shook again but she tried to focus on her surroundings instead.

There was no answer but the shadows drifted to her side. The light the lamp above her head cast on the pavement flickered. She felt the ancestors calling to her. To run. To hide. Death was on her step.

The cemetery was not far from here. Maybe she could make it here. She could find refuge in the magic of the tombs. All she would need would be an illusionary spell. If she only made it there in time.

She ran.

When the shadow became bigger on the wall she waved her hand back at it and her magic bounced on the speeding figure that was chasing her but it was enough. Sharp canines buried inside her throat viciously, two hands gripping her so tightly that they broke bones. She screamed but her scream faded.

Her body was now a puppet that was thrown over the walls over and over again. Long black hair fell in front of her face. Sharp teeth chewed her neck. And the perfume that enveloped her belonged to a woman.

Blood splattered everywhere, her throat bitten in pieces. She started seeing black spots knowing all too well that this was the last thing she would see. She felt the darkness of the ancestral magic gripping her soul. She was passing away to the other side. Slowly. Painfully.

Whoever it was that was killing her did not care only for her blood. She wanted her pain. She was ripping her to pieces. Brianna wanted to center her power and hex the vampire that was killing her but the moments passed by so slowly and her body slumped down.

She closed her eyes and used every last ounce of her magic to give the vampire a migraine. It worked and the woman that had attacked her released her just for a moment and Brianna used the last of her magic to pull herself up and crawl closer to the steps at the end of the alley that led to the clearing.

There was no hope left. There would be no mercy. She had taken a glimpse at those yellow eyes. This was not just any vampire. She panted and crawled leaving a pool of blood behind and then her attacker returned with vengeance and threw her body over the stairs straight to the dirt with so much force that her ribs shuttered.

Brianna heaved and tried to reach for one of the trees but her body was pushed down and the vampire bit her again.

She could not fight anymore. She was dying. She stopped struggling when suddenly the weight that was forcing her down was lifted. The fangs that cut her skin dislodged from her neck forcibly with a wet terrible sound.

Brianna tried to fight against the haze and the death that surrounded her. She heard a crashing noise and turned around with difficulty only to see a man standing in front of her. She was facing his back. His coat reached his knees and she tried to focus on his polished shoes.

Her hand flew on her torn neck and her eyes fluttered trying to focus. Brianna gasped when she saw the Werewolf Queen of the Originals hanging against one of the trees. A broken branch was protruding out of her stomach like a lance and she was trying to free herself from it. Her blood was dripping down the wood, her back stuck over the trunk of the tree.

Whoever that man was he had sent Hayley Marshall flying back to one of the trees and skewered her in one of the branches. Her feet were dangling inches above the ground. Her eyes gleamed in the darkness with fury. Her face was dripping with blood.

Her blood Brianna thought.

The man laughed as Hayley grunted in pain before she screamed and moved her body against the wooden rod.

Brianna consciousness was shimmering to blackness but she started dragging her body backwards and with her last remnants of power she forced herself to scurry away.


She didn't have many things to pack. Most of her belongings could fit in a small bag anyway. She did not want to make roots in New Orleans. She did not want to feel as if she was building a life here. Her stay in this place was involuntary and most of all temporary.

A few days ago Camille had been very kind to sublet her the studio apartment above the bar. That would be temporary too. One way or another she had to find a way out of Esther's barrier spell soon. In the meantime living above Rousseau's would have to do.

She looked around at the room to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything and instead she stared at the elegant furnishing and the beautiful colors that decorated the bedroom. And for a moment she had to remind herself again why she had to leave. She had to get out of this place. To get some distance. To gather her thoughts again.

This place represented something. Something she was not ready to explore. More so it did not only sheltered her in. It also sheltered Klaus' expectations and by living here she felt that she was feeding them and that was not fair. Not for him. Not for her. Not while she knew that she could not take the next step in whatever her relationship with Klaus was or could be. This pressure was crashing over her. Staying here was a hard thing to do. Leaving this place was a heavy choice to make. No matter what turn she took she felt as if she was breaking in pieces.

She gazed at the view of New Orleans from the French window doors of the balcony. The city had turned into a prison for her. Literally. But so had this place. Klaus' devotion felt like another cage.

This room and everything inside it were just a reminder of that. Of everything Klaus was ready to give her and of the things he wanted her to give him. One day. In a day. In a century. It did not matter.

She morbidly felt that she was living in a mausoleum. Klaus kept this place like a shrine after she died and she could not stop thinking about it. That room was made for another woman that did not exist anymore and then it turned into a ghost space meant for mourning. She did not want to live here. And not just in that room. She did not want to live in that house either.

Living with Klaus was not helping. Staying under the same roof with the Originals and Hayley was not something she had signed for. She had definitely overstayed her welcome. She had to find her own space and find a way out of this freaky city. Esther Mikaelson wanted her trapped inside New Orleans for a reason. And she could not be free to find what that reason was with Klaus constantly on her tail.

Maybe this was just wishful thinking. If she knew Klaus even a little bit she was sure that moving out of the compound would not stop him from keeping tabs on her. She was certain that she could move out from the continent and it would still not be enough. And she simply did not have the energy to deal with that now or become a new Katherine on the run constantly watching over her back either that had to do with Klaus or any other of the Originals.

She bit her lip when she heard his footsteps. Up the stairs and around the corridor. Every step bringing him closer.

When the soft knock on the door was heard she tensed but she was not surprised.

She expected him to come. To say goodbye. To convince her to stay.

And she was so angry with him. So angry for what he had been trying to do. For trying to keep her here. On the other hand, she could see how much he was trying and struggling. She could see his pain for the daughter he had lost and for his inability to find common ground with her. She could tell how much he had been trying to help her and meet her halfway but the distance had changed. She was not the Caroline he remembered or the Caroline he was trying to bring back. She barely knew who she was anymore. Caroline Forbes, the high school ingénue, the cheerleader, the Mystic Queen, the baby vampire was gone. She died. He had to accept that and so had she. And the woman in her place was a stranger even to her and Klaus did not get it. He kept trying to make her reconnect with a person that didn't exist anymore.

There was one thing she knew for certain though. Klaus was still a mess. And now so was she. And this was creating a whole new level of mess.

Ah, she wanted to scream and stomp her foot down. She was so close to freaking out. Everything was messed up. How the hell had it all become so messed up in the first place?

"May I come in?" Klaus' voice traveled through the closed door and Caroline only hummed in response knowing that Klaus' keen hearing would pick up the sound and a moment later the door creaked open.

She turned her back at him as he got in the room and unconsciously fidgeted with her hair pushing some of it behind her ear.

"It is your house after all," she said and threw her hairbrush into her bag; from the corner of her eye, she did not miss Klaus' irked expression at her comment.

He closed the door behind him and leaned over the wood. His scent filled the room and Caroline felt that for some reason his presence made the room smaller. Shivers whispered all over her skin.

"So you are leaving after all," Klaus pointed out the obvious as she checked the dresser to make sure she was not forgetting anything. Well, she had already checked three times. Better to make sure nothing was left behind right?

She peeked at Klaus' reflection in the vanity mirror. He had crossed his arms in front of his chest and his soft blouse had stretched over his muscles. He looked all smooth and suave. This was not good. Why was she paying attention to this?

She felt nervous for some reason. She hated feeling like this. Angry and frustrated and vulnerable all at once. She realized she was stalling. She was trying to not face his gaze that kept following her every move.

"You knew I would," she said and closed the drawer with more force than she should. The furniture rattled and she almost winced at that.

"Isn't there any way to change your mind sweetheart?" Klaus asked her softly and her heart hummed inside her chest. His voice felt like a trap. Luring her in.

Her hands gripped the wooden surface of the dresser and held on to it feeling its surface denting under her fingertips. Her eyes rose to the mirror and their gazes locked in the looking glass.

And no matter what she felt inside she kept her resolute stance. A thousand miles under the surface and she felt all that pull and push she always felt when she was near him. Ever since the first time he had entered her room in Mystic Falls offering her the cure for a wound he had caused her. Ever since his promise for another life of thousand birthdays and genuine beauty had turned her mind into a sinner. To even be tempted by him had been a sin back then and for some reason, she felt that it still was. Maybe in more ways now.

Still, she did not waver. She did not show him any weakness. She had to get out of this place. She was not thinking clearly here. She had to pick up her pieces. On her own.

"No."

She saw the hurt her refusal caused him. She saw the flash of pain that passed through his eyes and a sigh escaped her lips.

She turned around and looked directly at him this time. Not backing down. Not averting her eyes.

Tension rose between them. It sucked the air out of the room.

"I need a new start, Klaus," she confessed and hoped that her honesty would be enough for him to understand. Even the things she could not quite understand herself, "and I need you to understand this. Or at least try to."

Klaus' shoulders slumped but his lips stretched into a smile that was more a somewhat defeated grimace.

"I am always trying to do what you need Caroline," he tiredly said and the bite in his answer immediately put her on a defensive mode.

His tone was a veiled accusation filled with bitterness. She always thought that she had a clear read on him and most of the times they communicated with all the things that were said between the lines but living with him for the past weeks had shown her that Klaus was a very private person in ways she had not expected him to be. When he was in his own element his manipulations and mind machinations were delivered in shadows and slyness. It was what he was never saying that was an insinuation. His silence was far more dangerous than his rage tantrums and this time was no different.

The way they were honest between them always hurt and was always jarringly refreshing but this time his attitude was really pushing her buttons in a destructive way. It was as if he had been expecting from her to acknowledge what he was doing for her and pay him back somehow for his goodness. Because somehow his good deeds should always come with a price. Even when he was selfless. Otherwise, he felt that he was being betrayed. But she would not become his moral compass. She was not here to reward him for his decency.

And this was his way of accusing her of it. For how she never cared about what he needed while he always did.

To hell with that!

She was not going to allow him to manipulate her emotionally and guilt trip her like this. He could go and play that kind of games with someone else. She was so not here for them. She knew that game of his all too well. Most people were constantly falling for it but not her. She wouldn't let him distract her into doing what he wanted or worse even, distract her from doing what she wanted. Even it was out guilt or sympathy for the devil in disguise. Hell, she had majored in distraction. She would not fall for such cheap tricks.

Yet, why did she feel that pang in her heart? Maybe because he had been generous with her nonetheless. Because he was there for her for as long as she stayed here. Because he was welcoming and caring and tolerant. And because she hated that out of everyone else it was Klaus that had become her rock.

A controlling rock of support that was not giving her any space to breathe and was taking her breath away.

"Always?" she provoked him taking a step forward, "this is why you kept compelling people to make my life hard? Seriously what are you five?"

Klaus placed his hand over his heart feigning ignorance over her accusation but his diabolical smirk contradicted his attempt to pretend to be innocent and offended.

Caroline rolled her eyes and she mentally felt the need to slap herself because she could not stop herself from saying what she said next.

"But you obviously could not compel Camille," she observed and this time she avoided looking at him knowing all too well that he would definitely pick up on her peeved expression and the acid that underlined her words.

Her and her big mouth always saying the wrong things and giving him ammunition! Mostly for things he would surely translate wrong. She didn't really care. She didn't. He could do whatever he wanted with his life. It was not as if she cared. But that didn't stop her from watching the obvious.

Klaus had not been the only one observing her the last weeks. She had been doing the same with him. She saw him in his environment. She saw him with his brothers and Hayley as she also saw his regular visits at the Rousseau's. Which according to Josh it was something Klaus used to do ever since he arrived in New Orleans. And Caroline could see why. She could see the appeal and what kept drawing him back to the bar. She could see the tension between him and Camille O' Connell. And she didn't know if she liked what she was seeing. And she didn't know why she didn't like it. This was Klaus. When did she care about what Klaus did in his love life? Ugh! She didn't! It was all cool. She had to worry about other things anyway. About putting her life back together after Purgatory and about Klaus' psychotic mother that had locked her inside the city and about getting a new place to live and about the fact that the whole box of horrors New Orleans was damaging for people like her and about so many things really.

Klaus' relationship with Cami was the last thing she cared about! Truly. Really. The only thing that made her furious though was that he was pretending to be pining for her when he obviously had a lot on his plate. Cami seemed to be one of his priorities and she seemed to care for him too. It was mutual and ongoing. He had obviously moved on so why was he acting like that with her? It was all so very annoying and her mind was killing her and she didn't know how and when to shut up!

She almost flinched when Klaus narrowed his eyes in surprise when she snapped at him about Cami. And Caroline seethed when she saw Klaus…Klaus frigging Mikaelson…squirm!

Okay! That settled it. She had to get the hell out of here. Pronto! And leave him knock up all the werewolf traitors and fall for all the therapists he wanted. Truth to be told a therapist would do him good. He needed one! Like more than one. A whole army of them and he would still need more!

"She," Klaus began and cleared his throat, "Camille… is connected with the human faction of New Orleans," he explained and Caroline shrugged and zipped her bag in a swift movement. She had taken everything. She was all ready to go. So why wasn't she going? Just get the bag and go. Do not engage in this any further the voice of reason screamed in her head.

"And she is your friend," Caroline continued for him with a big smile.

"A friend of the family," Klaus corrected and she huffed mockingly before she arched her eyebrow at him. Maybe she should wear a neon sign calling him a liar.

She tried to control her anger when she saw Klaus biting back a smile and then sauntering closer to her.

She rooted herself on her spot and her eyes followed his movements. A thousand years of grace wrapped in a male body. Great. That is what she needed now. A cold shower. Perfect.

She swallowed down her breath when Klaus' stood just a few inches in front of her. And then there was that satisfied damn smirk that brought forth those annoying dimples. He was loving this.

"Is that jealousy I detect Caroline?" he drawled and she snorted. As if!

"Oh please!" she turned him down at once and felt the need to actually kick him somewhere it would really hurt when his smile grew, "I am just," she started trying to find the right words as Klaus challenged her with his gaze, "…amazed" she lamely finished.

"By what?" Klaus insisted with an even bigger smile and Caroline grimaced ironically.

"By the fact that you actually managed to make a decent friend," she fired back and the blue in Klaus' eyes became brighter.

Caroline' gaze focused on his hand as it trailed the line of her arm creating goosebumps to erupt over her skin.

"Well you and I are friends are we not?" he asked with a tantalizing innuendo and Caroline pressed her lips, "decently so," he purred lowering his voice and making her blood boil.

She jerked his hand away and Klaus smirked.

"I am so not going to do this with you," she refused trying to ignore the fact that she had started it and went to get her bag but Klaus' held her elbow forcing her to face him again.

"What are you not doing Caroline? Fishing out explanations for my relationships with other people or pretending to not care," he challenged her and she withdrew her arm from his grip.

She glowered at him and pressed her hands to her hips defiantly. He was so infuriating!

"I don't!"

"Of course not," Klaus mocked her so smugly and she could swear that she had never hated him more than she hated him right now. For getting so easily under her skin. For letting him.

They glared at each other and then Klaus shook his head and took one more step closer invading her personal space.

"Aren't you bored with this little cat and mouse game? For how long are we going to keep playing it love?" he groaned and she bit the inside of her cheek drawing blood. There was so much bad blood inside her now that it felt like venom she wanted to spat out.

"Not for much longer," she snapped and gripped the handle of the leather bag. Klaus' fingers curled around her wrist.

"Running away is not a solution," Klaus told her and she defiantly lifted her chin up.

"Walking away from you is not running away."

His lips pressed to a hard line. He leaned forward and she could almost taste his breath in her mouth.

"What is it then?" he demanded and she stepped on her toes and reached up to face him at the same height.

"Self-preservation."

Her coldness and rejection met his hurt and then his hurt turned to hardness. She felt bruises blooming on her wrist at the place where his grip marked her skin.

Time slowed down its course and both of them refused to back down or let go of all the anger and indignation. She twisted the bag handle in her palm and the groaning sound of the leather broke their stalemate. Klaus let her go but did not move back. His gaze was locked on hers.

It was her that stepped back this time breaking the spell between them. A cool breeze whistled in the room from the balcony but it somehow felt ice cold.

"Thank you for letting me stay here," she managed to say despite the knot in her throat.

Thank you for being here for me were the words she did not say.

Maybe she was being selfish. Maybe. But she had to be if she wanted to survive and she had learned that lesson the hard way.

She walked towards the door but stopped when Klaus' hard voice reached her ears.

"You are taking a big risk by leaving the compound, Caroline. You know this," he said, his tone cold. She threw the bag over her shoulder and turned around to face him once more.

"I know," she accepted seriously, "as I know that despite everything I told you you will still put a lot of surveillance around the house and the bar," she knowingly said but Klaus did not comment.

"I can take care myself you know," she reminded him for what seemed to be the thousandth time. This argument was not leading them anywhere.

"I know," he simply acknowledged but he was not committing to anything. He would still do what he wanted. Either it was for her protection or for keeping an eye on her or because he was not trusting her fully the result was still the same. And she didn't like it.

Caroline sighed and this time she didn't stop until she reached the door. But as her fingers wrapped around the knob she stopped and closed her eyes feeling tired. A sense of defeat that left her weak washed over her.

"We are friends or at least we could be," she whispered and sensed Klaus' eyes burning holes in her back.

"But?"

She felt his hopelessness in that one word and she opened the door. She felt as if she could not breathe. The pressure was weighing down on her now. Like a deadly anchor.

"Friends support each other Klaus," she accused him this time completely honest and without hiding behind her finger. Her eyes searched for him and saw an ocean of conflict in his gaze but that was not an excuse and did not change anything. It did not make anything better or easier, "they do not take their choices or their freedom away. They do not get to decide where they will live and how to cope."

"This has not been my intention," he broke out the words so silently and she could see how hard it was for him to admit this but it still left them in square one.

"That is what you have tried to do nonetheless," she breathed out unable to hide her disappointment.

"I only want to keep you safe," Klaus argued and this time she smiled sadly.

"You do not get to take advantage of the danger I am in or use it as an excuse for acting like this. My safety is my responsibility. Not yours," she told him in a non-negotiable tone and then her eyes roamed over the room before she gestured at every corner of it with a frustrated wave of her hand.

"This room," she exhaled painfully, "no matter what it represents for you is nothing but a gilded cage if I don't want to stay here."

Klaus nodded discouraged.

"And you don't want to," he murmured crestfallen and Caroline's hand fell from the doorknob before she took the final step out of the room.

"Not like this."


Kol crossed his arms in front of his chest amused. He laughed at Hayley's attempts to free herself and then flashed in front of her.

"Here darling let me help," he offered and broke the branch away causing Hayley to screech and let out a string of curses against him as she fell on the ground.

"Tsk-tsk, language," Kol scolded her with a chuckle before he bent down, gripped her neck and lifted her up holding her against the tree.

Hayley scratched his hands and kicked him trying to push him back but her strength was nothing compared to his. She was an infant in front of him and more so she was wounded and in pain.

He watched her with unveiled disdain and tried to understand what was so special about her. New Orleans knew her as royalty and part of the Mikaelson family. Everyone treated her as such and here she was. Unable to even fend for herself. Klaus and Elijah had not bothered teaching her even the basics while she was waltzing around the manor and the city in Bekah's place. Pathetic really.

He arched a brow when Hayley's crazed eyes flashed a deeper shade of gold. She had some fight in her. He could give her that.

Her fangs dropped ready to bite him but before she could he broke her jaw. The sound of her agony filled his heart with so much joy. How he had missed torture!

"You have a lot to learn," Kol laughed and lifted her up more, his grip stealing all her oxygen. His fingers slashed into her neck breaking through flesh and bone and more blood flowed out of Hayley's mouth. She could only moan, her broken jaw slowly snapping back in place in excruciating anguish.

Her feet dangled in front of him and he looked at her boringly as she forced her finger knuckles to snap and her werewolf claws to come out.

He broke her fingers and wrists next and tears mixed with blood fell from her eyes.

"If you do not want me to tear them out you will keep those claws and baby teeth away from the witches you like so much to hunt; more so when it comes to those who are under my protection," Kol threatened her even though he kept his voice low and seductive.

What were Elijah and Klaus even seeing in this weakling? He threw her down and wiped his hands theatrically.

From the looks of it, the werewolf Queen had a score to settle with the witches of New Orleans and she did not discriminate when it came to murdering them. That would have to change now that he had returned.

"The Devere coven, in particular, is off limits. I have protected this line for centuries darling," he informed her and watched as Hayley tried to sit down and heal.

"And I should care for this? Why?" she sneered at him but her voice was more of a croaking stutter now.

Kol smirked and when he took a threatening step towards Hayley she faltered. Her heaving stilled.

"Ah...there it is," he purred excitedly before he crouched down on his heels and clasped his hands playfully.

"Did you know that fear has quite the unique smell? Addictive really," he drawled and saw Hayley flinch when he twirled a bloodstained lock of hair around his finger and inhaled it, "sometimes even more so than blood," he whispered and relished in the fear and hate that emanated out of her.

He carefully straightened her jacket over her shoulders and looked at her humorously before his expression changed.

The gold from Hayley's eyes weakened before it dissolved completely when Kol's eyes darkened.

"Make no mistake sweetheart. Unlike my brothers I have no interest in keeping your head attached to your shoulders," he said making it clear that above all he was not bluffing.

He then got up, dusted his clothes and smiled sweetly at her.

"Go on. Run away," he brushed her off waving his hand dismissively in the air as he turned around and started walking away without even acknowledging her presence anymore.

He had a dying witch to find.


Paint was dripping over the canvas. Angry strokes followed and black sloshed over blue.

He didn't have a purpose in his mind as he tried to paint. To somehow leave a mark on a design that would grant him some of the control he had lost. But the only color that was missing was red. Blood to mix with the paint.

"Miss Forbes left," Elijah commented lightly as he watched him destroy one more painting.

Klaus's eyes remained fixed on the wet paint and the abstract shape of darkness he was creating with angry movements. This had meant to be a colorful work. To reflect light.

It was now gone. Maybe it was better that way. What did he know about light anyway?

"I am impressed that you actually let her go," Elijah remarked and went and sat at one of the sofas and took a pile of disregarded drawings in his hands and observed them closely.

"Should I lock her in a tower and throw the key away?" Klaus sarcastically jeered without turning to face his brother.

"Isn't that what you tried to do the last weeks? Luckily for her, she can't be daggered," Elijah said, his tone a scathing mockery.

The brush broke in Klaus' hand as he whirled around, his body tense and ready to attack. The growl that left his lips was inhuman as were the gold specks that flickered in his eyes. Elijah remained civil and unconcerned. He crossed his legs and only gave a pointed look at Klaus that in return targeted his rage on the crystal decanter and the quite valuable antique table.

Elijah's expression turned to one of pity for the destruction that unfolded in front of his eyes.

"She is struggling and Esther is still out there," Klaus yelled unable to pretend to be calm anymore, "our dear mother thrives on the weaknesses of others and she wants something from Caroline. She was safer here. You know it too."

Elijah rested his elbow on the arm of the sofa and caressed his jaw with his thumb.

"Is that the real reason you wanted her here?" he calmly asked him with a tone meant to soothe and provoke honesty.

Klaus said nothing. His expression turned impassive and an eerie stiffness claimed every muscle in his body.

"I did not have the time to get to know Caroline but she seems to be a willful individual. A very strong woman indeed," Elijah noticed and something akin to a threatening cautioning flashed in Klaus's eyes.

"She is. One that you do not trust either. A dangerous combination," Klaus told him, his voice a warning, lethal and dangerous. A warning meant to put a distance between his older brother and Caroline.

Elijah arched a brow and clasped his hands over his knee.

"I don't know her so to trust her Niklaus," Elijah agreed seriously, "but you do trust her. So trust her judgment."

Klaus' smile became uneven and turned around and stared at the paint that still dribbled over the canvas. The swirls of darkness called to him.

"Her impaired judgment you mean?" Klaus sneered, "unless you haven't noticed both her and our brother are battling demons that drive them to madness."

"In death, she will return… There is no saving her now…The abyss is calling her back."

The face of the shaman witch warning him about Caroline flashed in front of Klaus' eyes and brought shivers of ice down his spine. If Purgatory was missing its residents and was calling them back that meant that Kol was in danger too.

"And both of them are strong enough to win them," Elijah spoke with confidence but Klaus only shook his head and clenched his eyes shut allowing pain to devour him.

Laughter bubbled in his chest. Like acid burning his lungs.

"But we will lose nonetheless. Like we always do. Always and forever," he exclaimed feeling as if all the pain he had combined in thousands years worth of agony had returned to haunt him and tear him to pieces. Kol, Caroline. Hope. He could not protect them. All he could do was drive them away.

Elijah got up and steadily approached him. Gently. As if he meant to tame a wild animal that was ready to pounce.

"What is this really about Niklaus?" Elijah questioned, his gaze intent on him.

"Our enemies," Klaus started, "our mother," he gulped with hate, "they keep forcing me to let go of all that I want to keep close… Even when I win I lose."

"I see," Elijah only said before he stepped over the broken glass and the smudges of paint on the floor and headed towards the liquor bottles.

He poured two strong drinks and offered Klaus a glass that he reluctantly took.

"Maybe then keeping is not what you should try to achieve brother. Maybe you should let the things you want to keep stand by your side," Elijah quietly suggested, "and in their strength, our enemies might find something uniquely unmovable and…undefeatable."

Klaus scoffed at that and had his drink in one mouthful. Elijah judged his poor drinking manners with an admonishing smile and tasted the liquor slowly savoring its aroma.

"There is hope still for you Niklaus," the eldest Mikaelson told him with a hint of amusement that soon turned to pensiveness and melancholy, "and despite all your faults you always managed to protect those you keep close to your heart. To keep them safe," Elijah assured him but Klaus' eyes narrowed at the disappointment he heard in his brother's voice. The compliment had turned to a veiled accusation.

"But in doing so… you are only driving those you care for away," Elijah continued, "you forgot that not all is forgiven just because you have the best intentions at heart. The end does not always justify the means and the cost might be too steep even for you to bear," the oldest Original warned.

Klaus pressed his lips to a thin line. Darkness and unrelenting cruelty turned his features to a hard mask.

"Given the alternative, I think I will take my chances, Elijah," Klaus rasped. The unyielding metal in his voice was now hot, forging new madness inside him.

Elijah frowned and approached him with certain steps.

"Is this truly a risk you want to take?" Elijah cautioned, "to create more wounds that won't ever heal?"

Klaus rose to full height, his gaze full of irony.

"Eternity is a very long time to claim never," Klaus sarcastically quipped and Elijah shook his head.

"Is this what you believe when you put as in coffins? That, since we are immortals, time will heal us and we'll forget and forgive?"

Elijah's incredulous question hung between them like a bullet ready to get fired by a gun. In close range. Ready to do the most damage.

"You stand by my side still brother," Klaus gestured at him smugly proving his point.

"But I have not forgotten," Elijah vowed and Klaus smirk disappeared, "Rebekah has not either. Neither will Kol. And now there is a battle inside our brother," Elijah threw his own words back at him, "demons that not even a thousand of years of misery have born to existence and no eternity can erase. Miss Forbes seems to be fighting against them too," Elijah pointed out and Klaus licked his lips nervously before he tried to regain his composure.

"In one so young such a struggle can be…devastating," Elijah warned him, "so maybe you should consider that being safe is not what Miss Forbes wants but mostly it is not what she needs either."

Klaus looked at his brother as if he had gone insane but Elijah smiled bitterly.

"Our mother locked Caroline in the city just as the girl escaped another prison. Creating another cage for her might not have been your most brilliant plan to date," Elijah mused and Klaus fought every instinct tempting him to wince and show weakness.

Elijah finished his drink nonchalantly before he gave Klaus his empty glass as if he was his servant boy. Klaus glared at him but Elijah only straightened his jacket and readjusted the cufflinks.

'You have an amazing talent to turn your relationships into battlefields Niklaus," Elijah sighed and patted Klaus on the shoulder, "my advice to you is to change your strategy and aim for a truce instead. An apology would be an excellent place to start."


Brianna tried to draw power from the ancestral magic but she was too weak. She fell down at one of the grave tombs leaving a trail of blood on the stones.

Blood gurgled in her mouth and she tried to cough for breath but the more she tried to breathe the more her lungs filled with blood. She tried to conjure her magic when she heard steps coming closer.

"That was quite the fight you put up little witch. You lasted longer than I expected. Quite impressive."

It was as if the voice belonged to the wind.

Brianna could barely move when a shadow passed in front of her eyes. She only blinked once and then the man that had saved her was crouching in front of her. So close. Too close. She could see his face now and feel his aura.

A vampire.

Which meant an enemy. Like the one that bit her.

"No need to worry," the man said and pushed the sleeve of his coat up revealing his pale wrist. Brianna flinched when he bit his wrist and before she could even protest his blood poured in her mouth, "I was always fond of witches," her savior reminisced while he forced his blood down her throat, "especially those of your bloodline," he drawled and laughed when she struggled against his hold, "Easy now. You will always be safe with me."

Life rushed back to her in rivers of blood. Her skin stitched back together and her bones mended. Brianna yanked the man's wrist away and tried to cough out the blood that had saved her.

She wiped her face angrily smearing blood all over her chin and cheeks.

The pendant had burned twice with different oscillating signals. He was there when Hayley Marshall attacked her. He was watching and he had not stepped in until the very last moment.

Whoever her 'savior' was smirked as if he could read her thoughts.

"Forgive me love for not coming to your aid sooner but I had to see if you were worth the effort," he simply shrugged.

"Who are you?" she demanded as she tried to stand.

"An old friend," he assured her and Brianna frowned.

The unknown man got up and offered his hand to her to help her get up. She refused to accept it and he only smirked.

"Your great-grandmother had the same fire," he laughed and Brianna held her breath as he lifted an eyebrow and twirled a coin in his fingers. The Devere insignia.

Her family had given their coin only to one vampire centuries ago.

Impossible…He couldn't be!

"Let me introduce myself, darling. Kol Mikaelson," he revealed and Brianna gasped.

An Original.

And not just any Original. She had heard the tales and she grew with the stories and she knew that he had died before the Originals returned to the city.

Her line was devoted to him for centuries. The founders of her family left Europe and followed Kol Mikaelson to New Orleans building a life in a strange land so to continue serving him; her ancestors would not have risen to power without his protection and so they had fallen out of the highest positions of hierarchy when he had fallen.

She froze when Kol pushed her unruly bloodstained hair behind her ears. His voice was warm as honey and yet there was something very cold in every word that slipped his lips.

"And since you owe me your life you are now at my service."


Mystic Falls.

Damon Salvatore was leaning against the fireplace mantel watching the slight crackling of the flames in silence. The house still remained in disarray and he definitely had to restock his wine collection and refill his blood stash.

Bright side? At least now that the magic purification spell the travelers had cast over Mystic Falls was down he was able to drink his favor bourbon -from his own collection- in his own house in relative peace. That alone made Kai's threat tolerable; although sooner or later, and better sooner than later, he would have to deal with that siphoning shit once and for good.

"So many things to do, so many people to kill," he grumbled but decided to postpone his killing spree plans for another day. For now, all he wanted was to savor his drink and relax.

His peace was not long lived however since when Stefan came into the living room the air vibrated with tension.

Damon watched Stefan's foreboding expression and shook his head tiredly. He could tell that he would need more alcohol for this. He was not nearly as drunk as he wanted, more so to get more bad news.

"Why the broody face brother?" he asked Stefan before he drained his glass.

Stefan's gaze locked with his before he answered him in a tone that did not hide his surprise or his worry.

"There were people at Whitmore asking about… Caroline."

So it was official, Damon thought. He would definitely need more booze for this.