"Friendship dies and true love lies. Night will fall and the dark will rise."

― River Song. Doctor Who


"'Shaman.' Noun formed from the verb ša, which means "to know," so the term "shaman'' translates to "one who knows."

Shamans have influence on good and evil spirits.

It is believed Shamans can enter into altered states of consciousness and interact with the spirit world. Deep into trance, they can usually guide the spirits or spiritual energy into our physical plane of existence to heal or for some other purpose.'"

"…Or for some other purpose."

"Well that ain't helpful now is it?" Caroline grumbled and closed the book with a thud. Her fingers tapped on the hardcover and she looked around at the small space of her apartment that now looked even smaller as it was crammed with books and papers. Her usually neatly organized place was in complete disarray.

She had spent the last days re-reading anything she could find relating to Shamanism. She was a perfectionist so she didn't stop at a first level search.

It was not difficult to find books on the occult, the paranormal, sorcery, and magic. After all, she lived in New Orleans. So she spent her time studying every piece of paper, every book, every reference. She googled. She researched. She compelled human experts she could find that were not on vervain. And those that were on vervain she made sure they would be drained from it. All that so to learn more about the subject before she would send all of them away with no memory of her and their interactions. She kept the compulsion on some professors ensuring they'd keep searching and connecting with other brilliant minds outside New Orleans. They were compelled to believe they searched to write a paper on the subject meant for their studies while intending to write their books and dissertations on Shamanism. She had done this before the ball, in secret, and she had regretted it and had considered letting this obsession go but if anything what happened with Forbin proved that she had been in the right path all along.

She couldn't leave New Orleans but others could and she also had the internet on her phone. The world was a globalized place after all and she knew how to navigate it or compel others to navigate it for her. Others that were now on Sabbatical and were traveling to the ends of the world to find more information for her. Information she kept digesting hoping that this knowledge would give her a better insight. In comparison to her compelled humans, she remembered everything she read and found out. Right about now she, herself, could write a dissertation on Shamans and Shamanism. She had memorized everything and she kept digging to find more.

She now knew how Shamanism, despite the belief of the experts that the term originated from the Tungus tribe in Siberia, was not tied to a particular culture. Some believed it to be a religion but in reality, Shamanism was a spiritual practice not tied to any specific religion despite its spiritual and mystical connotations.

The tradition of Shamanism has spawned several religions and many shamans today identified as members of such organized religions.

The practice of Shamanism today has specific but countless practices adapted and has infiltrated different cultures and even governments around the world but the beliefs and the experiences over the subject varied.

Caroline's eyes followed the string of letters in front of the page she was currently reading.

"Shamans work with the spirit of the soul," Caroline whispered and let her eyes wander on the passages about how the shamans acted as mediums between the physical world and the spirit world and how they could transcend altered states of consciousness. She read the words. Wisdom, meditation, energy… but she focused on one sentence in particular.

"The spirit of the soul," Caroline sighed.

She thought of her soul often. Tainted thing, black as tar, as it had turned out to be. But there. Still there.

Always there.

She hadn't been a believer before but it was no longer a matter of faith for her. She knew she had a soul. She had been astral energy and she could tell the difference. Being alive and being dead. Having a soul and living with its weight, unbearable as it often seemed to be, was a much different experience from being dead. Sometimes it actually felt more painful. Painful enough to remind her she was alive.

Yeah, she could tell the difference alright.

Her soul had been banished in Purgatory. It may have been given a corporeal form there but in order to re-enter the world of the living, she had to turn back to energy in the gates and carry Kol's soul too. She guided her soul back and she then had to possess her decaying corpse. Kol's spells helped reanimate her body and attach her soul and lock it back to its physical form. Being a vampire at the time of her death left traces of magic in her bones. Traces that activated Kol's dark magic in this realm and helped her body to heal and the soul possession became permanent in comparison with how Esther's soul kept jumping bodies.

Caroline's lips twisted and tried to focus on her soul instead of Esther's. That soulless bitch would get what was coming to her. She was high on her list too.

Caroline exhaled slowly making sure to keep her rage on a leash and tried to keep her thoughts focused.

She didn't have to use meditation to connect with her inner consciousness and feel the state of her soul. She was past that state of awareness after all.

Ressurection was tricky but Caroline could feel her soul. It was shredded. Purgatory had made sure of it.

And yet Shamans supposedly could heal a soul. Or at least illness at the soul level.

Caroline fell back to the pillows of her sofa and stared at the ceiling.

"Rocks and trees and spirits of nature," she mumbled, "soup for the soul, my ass," she snorted.

Shamans loved to connect with their ancestors and use nature to boost their connections. It was all about power in the end.

Of course, having access to hallucinogenic plants would not hurt either.

"What better place than the Bayou," Caroline clacked her tongue.

Repetitive sounds she thought. Like a drum or a rattle. Shamans used that too and New Orleans provided that in their culture too.

No wonder so many souls took flight in this city. No wonder Esther thrived here and Kol knew of resurrection spells.

Caroline tapped her foot on the floor over and over again. Repetitively. Purgatory had its own rhythm too.

Only in comparison to Purgatory's condemnation Shamans were supposed to be healers.

"Why would you burn a healer Klaus?" Caroline whispered.

Klaus made sure to leave nothing but ashes behind. Something told her there was more to it than met the eye. This could be about Esther or…her.

After all, she was a resurrected soul too.

Damn him.

His lies kept piling up.

She had a trail but unfortunately, she couldn't dig as into it as she would like since the trace started and ended in the Bayou and Hayley Marshall had her paws all over it. The whole area was festering with werewolves and Klaus Mikaelson's reach had also covered that damn place since it was not hard to realize that he was using Hayley to control the wolves and their domain. Not directly but manipulation worked just as well for him. He used his influence on them without them realizing it. They believed they had their freedom and they had a choice. The peace treaty was meant to give them just as much leverage as they believed they needed so to re-enter New Orleans' society after their curse.

She kept her eyes and ears open and she realized Klaus' plan. It was not that hard to grasp if you had at least two brain cells. He was trying to turn Hayley out of all people into a savior icon and the Alpha female.

Caroline couldn't help but snort at the idea. Hayley that would double-cross anyone for her goals she was now playing the game of the great defender.

"Everything is upside down," Caroline grumbled, "and here I am speaking to myself!"

Caroline rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand but she couldn't stop thinking about this mess. She wondered if Hayley's pack or to be more exact the packs that flocked to her knew of her sordid history with the hybrids she betrayed and sent to their death. That would put an obstacle to that ridiculous PR Klaus and Hayley were working on with her image. Caroline had thrown a hint at the ball when she spoke of Hayley's past loud enough for the vampires and most importantly the werewolves to hear. That should at least make them doubt and start looking around; something that Klaus would definitely not like.

"Well, tough shit," she snapped. She didn't like the way he was lying at her and putting obstacles in her way too!

The thing is that something didn't add up though. Something she could not pinpoint exactly. She was sure that Klaus was using Hayley much to Elijah's dismay. Hayley believed to be in control but Klaus never allowed control to anyone but himself. Hayley was as much a pawn as anyone else in Klaus' game board. Elijah might love her but Klaus had gotten into Hayley's head and into her grief.

She could see the rage Hayley still had over the death of their child.

Their child.

Caroline gulped down harshly and pushed that thought away. She didn't want to linger into that right now. Into that connection between Klaus and Hayley that would always make them a family.

After all, history had shown that Hayley had always lied and betrayed for her family. For her need for a family. History would repeat itself but no matter how much Hayley felt the Mikaelsons were her family Caroline still felt something was missing in this equation. The baby was gone. So what was the link that connected Hayley to Klaus to the extent that she was playing his game with such fervor?

"What am I missing?" Caroline wondered and bit her lower lip. She was not seeing something. Something Klaus had probably hidden in plain sight. But what?

Sure Hayley wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed but she had searched for her roots for such a long time. Too long to jeopardize this for Klaus no matter his manipulation. Did he have leverage over her? And if so what? The baby was dead. If it had survived this would make sense but it hadn't. So what would be enough for Hayley to risk the favor of her people like this? To lose her connection to her tribe? Especially now that she was a relatively newly turned Hybrid and vampirism definitely heightened her emotions and all that drove her.

It couldn't be just blind revenge. That would work for her first days and weeks of her transition but as time passed she should be able to tone down that mania and with Elijah by her side, Klaus shouldn't be able to move her around like a pawn so easily. Caroline had no doubt Klaus used Hayley's transition to his advantage too. Even Kol's attacks against the she-wolf tightened the bond between Klaus and Hayley and made them more of a tight unit since they had a common threat to deal with.

Caroline leaned back to the couch.

'Elijah must hate this,' she thought, reached for the pen she had set aside, and chewed it.

Elijah Mikaelson was trying to find out everything about her but she had returned the favor too. It was not hard to see that despite Elijah being a master manipulator he still had his vulnerable points. He wanted to be the white knight to a woman's fallen grace. He did it with Katherine. He was drawn to Elena's goodness. He searched for all that crap into Hayley and he was driven by the ghost of that deeply buried goodness he wanted to find and save in his damsels.

Klaus reached for Hayley's darkness. Elijah wanted to save her light.

Caroline rolled her eyes at the thought of Hayley having any light but as dim as it may be that nonsense was enough to make Elijah fall for her.

Caroline played with the pen in her fingers. She twirled it slowly.

Elijah and Klaus worked together. Despite their issues, they seemed solid in their plans for New Orleans but if she was to cause a rift between them Elijah's feelings for Hayley would be the way to go.

Elijah's devotion towards Klaus remained through centuries but he had a certain code of honor. Hayley was the mother figure of their family in his mind. He had put her in a pedestal; a pedestal Klaus was set on dismantling and that would be the opening Caroline needed if she was to break them and she might need to do just that in the end.

She just didn't know if she had to go for the permanent damage or the distraction. Time would show but for now, Klaus working with Hayley on some level suited her too. It left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth and she had to keep a close eye on Hayley to see exactly what Klaus wanted to make sure it would not backfire on her too but if she played her cards right she could turn this into an opportunity.

Caroline used the pen to underline the word shaman in one of the open books on the small table in front of her guiding her thoughts to another one of Klaus' plans.

"He can for sure multitask," she murmured ruefully.

And he was good at it. As good as she was if not better.

Why did Klaus need Shamans for? He had his witches. Why did he need connection to other worlds?

Just for Esther?

Or for…

The world Purgatory screamed in her mind and turned the blood in her veins cold.

She gripped the pen so hard that it broke in her hand staining her fingers and the white pages of the book with ink.

Caroline grimaced but her eyes were still focused on the knowledge in front of her.

Shamanism was an ancient practice. A healing practice but Caroline knew that magic despite its origins could be used for more than its intended purpose. It could very well be a balm or it could be turned into a weapon and Shamans were still figures shrouded in mystery far more than even witches were and then there were those combined creatures. Shaman witches that played both in the darkness of hell and in the light of medicine.

"They could walk on worlds and they could step foot in dimensions using even forms of expression," one of her compelled professors had told her.

A shudder passed through Caroline as she remembered Bonnie's experience with expression and how she had killed twelve witches to save her. And Klaus was there.

Always there.

Then and now.

Now that he left ashes and destruction behind.

Caroline pressed play on the audio of her phone and heard again one of the recordings one of the professors had sent her.

"Shamans can interact with more than just one realm at all times. A powerful Shaman with access to witchcraft could potentially warp reality and could even take someone along for the ride. They could dream their own world into another or vice versa so they could create a reality or combine it."

Caroline sighed.

It was hard to imagine a person being able to do that but a long time ago she believed vampires and werewolves to be imaginary creatures too.

Vampires existed and so did witches and Shamans and New Orleans was their playground but Caroline had come to realize that New Orleans was harboring far more darkness than anything else. So if it influenced darkness into vampires and witches then why not shamans too?

Why not hunters?

How did Forbin connect with all of this and why Klaus was so set on keeping her away from the secrets he kept.

She needed more. She needed to explore the truth and not just the legends and the myths.

If only her father was alive to teach her. Her dad had been a living breathing supernatural encyclopedia and she could bet he would have the answers.

Only his answers were now gone along with his pendant.

Caroline gripped Forbin's pendant still wrapped around her neck. The same her father had. Only Bill Forbes' pendant had gone missing. She remembered he had died wearing it and then by the time of the funeral it was gone. Her mother told her Stephen, her father's lover, got it and she left it at that.

Now if she wanted to actually search for it she'd have to be able to get out of this damn city. She could not trust anyone else to search for it. Compelled humans wouldn't do. She had to find it herself. She would have to get out of New Orleans and then what? She had kept her resurrection a secret. She couldn't just go to her mom and ask for more information and she couldn't reach Stephen that after her father's death he left his hometown and started traveling like her father used to do.

Chances were that Stephen knew of the supernatural too. Maybe just like her father and Jared Forbin he would be unable to be compelled too and he would hate her just as much for being a vampire.

Caroline gritted her teeth.

Jared Forbin had the same pendant as her dad. Could not be compelled as her dad.

Caroline also recalled how she couldn't feed Forbin her blood just as Klaus couldn't do the same with Esther when she had possessed Synnove's body. Could those things be connected too?

Did that bitch hex Jared Forbin?

'Of course, she did,' Caroline thought bitterly and she felt the need to scream.

She got up and starting pacing back and forth.

She looked around. Books and compelled humans were not enough. She could not rely on Kol either.

Damn it. She needed allies. Allies that would not be influenced by the Originals.

She needed allies she could trust and she needed them fast.


"One of my witches traced the origin of the hex the hunter used," Kol informed his siblings as he stormed inside the dining room of the Abattoir and plopped on one of the high-back chairs.

Klaus pushed aside his plate just as Elijah tactfully placed his napkin next to his.

"And?" Klaus quickly asked, not surprised at the least at how his younger brother was able to attain such information in a few days -if not hours- where he and Elijah had failed. Kol's connections with the witches always surpassed theirs.

"Can't you guess? It was cast by none other than …Synnove Julien," Kol grumbled as he reached for one of the crystal glasses and filled it to the brim, with the fine wine, using the old decanter to pour the liquid.

"Before or after she was possessed by mother?" Elijah questioned and both Kol and Klaus glared at him hating the way Elijah kept referring to Esther as their mother and using a tone of respect as he used the word.

"We can't be certain," Kol grit his teeth and twirled the wine inside his glass slowly, peeved by the fact that he was unable to reach that bitch mother of theirs that despite all of his reach in the magical world and underworld she still managed to evade him.

"Uncertainty is in its own way obvious certainty," Elijah pointed out. It couldn't be a coincidence and Kol knew it.

Esther Mikaelson wanted Caroline for some reason and they had to find her before she'd get her claws in her.

He'd find her alright, Kol thought. He'd find Esther and he would tear her spirit apart until every piece of it would rot in a place worse than Purgatory.

Kol and Elijah both turned their gazes at Klaus expecting him to share his thoughts but they were confronted by silence because Klaus' mind did not have the same dedication as Kol's menace or Elijah's pensiveness did.

The dreaded feeling returned as Klaus remembered once more the prophecy the Shaman witch he burned gave him for Caroline. The foreboding words of the witch echoed in his ears once more.

'The abyss is calling her back.'

Every resurrection, the hunter's appearance, his mother's return, Mikael's disappearance, the truth about Caroline's past resurfacing, and the war Caroline was ready to wage.

She would not stop. Caroline wouldn't relent and Klaus knew now that she had the ability to push hard and without mercy. She'd flirt with death because no matter how much she feared its destination she had gotten a taste of it and she knew how to walk hand in hand with its darkness. She had become addicted to it.

Every sign pointed to the truth of the prophecy and Klaus could not stop it from happening again.

She'd die on him again. And he wouldn't be able to save her.

Klaus' haunted eyes shone in amber. The wood of the table cracked and splinters flew everywhere when he buried the knife he held inside the wooden surface.

He twisted the handle slowly, his gaze turning murderous.

Hell would freeze before he allowed this to happen.

This time if Caroline ended in Purgatory he would be damned if he wouldn't follow her. If the abyss was calling her back it would have to prepare for it would get more than it bargained for.


A few weeks later


Davina was walking down the street when the air shifted and Kol Mikaelson appeared out of nowhere. He was casually dressed in modern clothes that had nothing to do with the formal attire he wore at his family's ball.

Now he looked extremely young and carefree as he walked by her side. At the eyes of a stranger, he'd seem harmless but she knew better.

"How are you darling?"

Davina didn't bother acknowledging his presence. She kept walking, making sure to change her direction subtly since she didn't want a Mikaelson to know where she was going, but Kol was not one to quit easily. He was not missing a step following her pace and he had an amused expression knowing fully well how much his presence was irritating her. She was half-tempted to give him a migraine and watch him writhe in pain.

"What do you want?"

"I am being courteous and caring," Kol smiled at her this time she couldn't help but glance at him.

She would definitely wipe that smirk out of his face one day.

"You practically fainted on me and as flattering as it would be to believe it happened because of my charm we both know it had nothing to do with my undeniable charisma and everything to do with whatever spell you had concocted."

'What an arrogant jerk,' Davina thought ruefully, and yet he was wickedly smart. He could give him that.

"If by spell you mean the fact that I had low blood sugar then yes. You got me there," she mocked him but Kol casually threw his arm around her shoulders and before she could push him back he had masterfully lifted her arm and dangled it in front of her face.

"And the fact that you removed the bracelet says it all," he pointed out gesturing at her naked wrist. His expression had a mocking and yet a curious edge to it and it was obvious he believed that she had a secret she didn't want him to find out.

And he wasn't wrong.

Davina yanked his hand away angrily.

"Hands off unless you want to remove a bloody stub!" she warned him looking disgusted by the physical contact and for good measure, she narrowed her eyes enjoying how her magic was effective enough to snap his wrist.

Kol let out a whistle as if he enjoyed the pain and her reaction.

"Aren't you bloodthirsty?" he snickered setting his bone back with an unsettling crack.

"You are one to talk," Davina mumbled and kept walking knowing all too well they were going in circles and Kol could see it too.

"What's your binding now?" Kol asked her curiously enjoying himself far more than he should. His eyes were curiously checking every inch of her body.

"I don't know what you mean."

Kol grinned at her attempt to pull off an ignorant and innocent expression.

"I will find out eventually," he assured her cockily, "but for now you can keep your secrets. It makes for a better challenge."

Davina glared at him.

"So much resentment," Kol drawled and used his body to open her way through the crowd that was standing in the way on the sidewalk listening to a saxophone player.

"What have I ever done to you Davina Claire?" he questioned, his eyes shining with genuine interest.

This time Davina stopped walking and faced him straight on.

"You are an Original."

Kol leaned against the brick wall, his eyes too on the saxophone player. The jazz melody, slow and smoky surrounded them.

"I am," he agreed and his gaze found her, "and here I am, with you, a gentleman."

Davina couldn't help but roll her eyes and scoff.

"As if."

She turned around ready to walk away but just as she was ready to cross the road a horn blasted and in a flash Kol had wrapped his fingers around her elbow and pulled her back effectively saving her from getting run over by a car.

She yanked her arm away hating Kol's amused expression.

"Why are you helping me?" she gritted out and Kol's lips twitched.

"Maybe I like you."

She arched her brow at his suggestive tone indicating that she didn't believe him.

"I find that hard to believe."

Kol shrugged and crossed his arms in front of his chest resting his shoulder against the street lamb looking as if he was posing for a fashion photoshoot.

"I like powerful things," he admitted and Davina's lips thinned.

"I am not a thing."

Kol held her gaze and watched her as if he saw her for the first time. If she wasn't used to the Originals by now she might have squirmed under his scrutiny but after facing Klaus Mikaelson she was now desensitized to the danger the Originals posed even though she could tell that Kol was as dangerous as they'd come.

"No you are not, are you?" he realized looking skeptical, "which begs the question as to why you let Marcel Gerard treat you as one."

"He doesn't!"

Her response was indignant and she flinched when she realized she had fallen straight into Kol's trap. He was purposefully pushing her buttons.

"Of course he does," Kol argued with a taunting smirk, "are you so blind not to see it?"

Davina's palms turned to fists by her side and she looked away just as a violin player joined the man that played the saxophone and a new melody, sultry and ethereal, attracted more people.

"Marcel is my family," Davina admitted not caring about revealing this side of hers. Everyone knew what Marcel meant to her and she would defend him to the end.

"Family loyalty? Really?" Kol chuckled bitterly arching a brow at her, "it will get you nowhere Miss Claire. Trust me on this."

"Trust you?" Davina exclaimed incredulously, "You?"

Kol laughed.

"Peculiar I know and yet I can be trustworthy under the right circumstances," he replied and straightened.

He stepped forward, his eyes gleaming at how she didn't move back. It was a challenge and his body became her shade as his height cast a shadow over her. The rays of the sun filtered between them.

"I do like you Davina believe it or not," Kol admitted sounding both sincere and surprised by his statement, "it's been quite a while since a witch has regarded me with more fire than fear or lust," he acknowledged in a presumptuous tone that infuriated her, "for that alone, I will be giving you an advice for free which is very rare because usually, my wisdom comes at a heavy price."

Davina shook her head in disbelief.

"Are you always this arrogant?"

Kol smiled but then his face became a harsh mask that reminded her that he was indeed an Original. That thought shook her to the core. Not because of who and what he was but because for a moment she had almost forgotten that he was a thousand years old monster.

"Marcellus is Klaus' son. I never saw him as such, possibly because for most of their family bonding time I was daggered in a box," Kol told her with an acidic tone that sent a shiver of uneasiness down her spine, "but that doesn't change who taught Marcel everything he knows," Kol reminded her and his words had the intimidating effect. Kol's eyes were hard now, "including what family means, what it is, how to abuse it."

"That's not-"

Kol pushed a strand of hair behind her ear shocking her to silence.

"Beware, Davina," he warned her, his voice a snare that lured her and promised danger, "Marcel may not bear the Mikaelson name but that doesn't make him any less one of my lot. So," he paused, his gaze both soft and cruel somehow, "if he is your family then I'd say your loyalty would fare much better with an enemy than it would with him."

Despite his obvious bitterness when it came to his family Davina could detect the fine threads of manipulation at his words. He was trying to plant doubt in her mind against Marcel.

He was toying with her believing she was too young and naïve to catch on to his intentions.

She provoked him with her most hostile glower.

"An enemy like you?"

Kol's smile grew and it reminded her of the snakes the old witches used to use when they taught them magic. Snakes with deadly venom and poisonous fangs that could strike at any time.

'Such a dangerous smile,' Davina thought.

It stunk of dark magic.

"Am I your enemy?" Kol asked softly. Seductively.

The notes of the violin became solemn and muted in the background.

When she didn't answer him Kol edged his body closer to hers.

"Are you my enemy Davina?"

"If I have to."

Her glare was one of a challenge that Kol accepted and appraised her with a content smile before he took a step back giving her some room to breathe again.

His brothers, Klaus and Elijah were equally intimidating but there was something about Kol Mikaelson that alarmed her way more.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Kol simply said, "as I said I might actually like you but should it come down to that I promise to not be gentle. I'd hate for you to think I don't respect you enough to treat you as a formidable adversary. "

"It'll make for a better challenge," she sassed throwing his words back at him and he grinned satisfied.

Kol then took her hand giving a mocking glance at her naked wrist before he kissed her knuckles.

He then gave her a nod and walked away, making sure to first throw two hundred dollar bills at the street musicians, before he disappeared into the crowd.

Davina stared at her hand.

The tingling sensation had nothing to do with the feeling she got when she came in touch with vampires. This felt almost…light. Light after dark. So much dark.

"I'd be careful if I were you."

Davina jumped up at the voice that took her out of her reverie.

She then turned around to see Caroline Forbes coming out of the alley behind her.


Caroline pressed her lips to stop herself from laughing when Davina Claire all but stomped her foot down.

"Enough with you sneaking up on me people!" the young witch complained and Caroline couldn't help but laugh when Davina muttered about vampires trying to play ghosts and spook witches out of all people.

Caroline's laughter however quickly died out when she glanced in Kol's direction. He had disappeared in between the morning crowd but she knew better than to think he wouldn't return for Davina. He had set his eyes on her and that didn't bode well. Not for Davina, not for Marcel, and as of now not for her either.

"Don't let him get under your skin," Caroline advised Davina once she returned her attention to her and now Marcel's young protégé donned her defensive armor once more.

"I don't let vampires get under my skin."

Caroline gave Davina a look and couldn't resist giving her an unconvinced humming sound.

"Then Marcel Gerard is the exception I take it?"

Davina pressed her lips and then pointed a finger at her.

"I won't discuss my relationship with Marcel with you or anyone for that matter."

Caroline might have taken Davina's proclamation at face value if she hadn't just heard her doing the exact opposite with Kol as she claimed Marcel as her family.

More likely was that Davina hadn't even realized how effortlessly Kol played her and made her show her hand. She was very young and in many ways, she reminded Caroline the girl she used to be before Purgatory.

Davina was loyal to those she deemed friends and family. She could relate to that. At least she used to.

Caroline shrugged and pretended to not doubt Davina's statement at all. Instead, she applauded her mistrust.

"Good," she praised Davina that seemed to be surprised by her reaction, "and while you are at it keep that distrust with Kol Mikaelson too," Caroline insisted, "Extend it to all matters that concern him."

Davina frowned.

"Isn't he your friend or something?" she wondered and Caroline almost shook her head.

So Marcel was keeping a tab when it came to her relationship with the Originals and had informed Davina.

"Or something," Caroline smiled, "that's how I know he is quite an ass," she admitted, "he enjoys seducing witchlings like yourself. That's how he calls witches of your age by the way," Caroline remarked casually fueling Davina's distaste over Kol, "he is very adept when it comes to getting women wrapped around his little finger. Or men," Caroline added that as an afterthought with a giggle.

Davina made a face at that but then her frown deepened.

"Why are you warning me?"

Caroline didn't try to pretend not to recognize Davina's distrust or make her believe it was unfounded.

"I need a favor," she bluntly admitted.

"At least you are honest," Davina sighed.

Caroline could tell the girl was sick and tired of doing the bidding of all those that asked or most likely demanded her to do their spells, dirty work, or even favors.

"Quid pro quo and all that of course," Caroline promised her but Davina didn't seem to believe there would be anything she could give her in exchange for her witch services.

"Why would I help you?"

Yep. Marcel had definitely warned the witch against her. Not to mention the first time she had met Davina it was when the Originals all but ordered the girl to help them with Esther's barrier.

And obviously, Davina didn't like the Originals.

Caroline arched a brow at Davina's hostility.

"I never said I needed help for me."

At least not yet Caroline thought, in time she'd earn her trust maybe even her loyalty. And in doing so she would also get closer to Marcel which as much as she didn't like to admit he would now make a useful ally and she would need those more than ever.

In times like these Caroline missed Bonnie. If she had Bonnie's help maybe things could-

No.

She quickly shut down that thought. This was the one thing she wouldn't do. She would not involve her old friends in this mess. They'd stay safe from this danger no matter what.

'Loyalty' she thought. Davina wasn't the only one ready to take the fall for those she deemed family.

Caroline realized that devotion was one of the things Purgatory hadn't deprived her of. This was why she was so mad at Klaus' and Kol's duplicitous behavior. She couldn't accept it. It was unforgivable really.

In the same way, she was sure that Bonnie and everyone else that loved her in Mystic Falls would never forgive her for keeping her resurrection a secret from them.

But she couldn't go back. It wasn't that she was running away from her past. Not only that anyway. Some old parts of her still existed and those would defend her childhood friends till her last breath and even beyond that. No matter how much she tried these seemed to be her default settings. A weakness she'd keep for herself far away from the danger that lurked in New Orleans.

Davina's inquiring tone earned her attention again and she pushed all the nostalgia and guilt away.

"Aren't you still working on the barrier that keeps you trapped?" the young witch asked her.

Caroline lifted her shoulders, her reaction reflecting indifference.

"As it happens I don't have any intention of leaving New Orleans any time soon," she informed Davina knowing this statement would reach Marcel's ears soon enough, "I'd like the barrier down sure but that's a problem for another day," she said but then tilted her head meeting Davina's eyes with a challenging gaze of her own, "but if I am not mistaken you've said you can't help with that."

"You never asked me to," Davina challenged her back, her voice having a calculated edge, "The Originals all but ordered me."

Davina's angry defiance brought a smile to Caroline's lips.

Okay. So it was official. She quite liked Davina Claire.

"Very true," Caroline agreed, "maybe I should have asked you but when Esther cast the spell to keep me in New Orleans I didn't know you. Or anyone else in New Orleans that could help me for that matter," Caroline reminded the witch before she continued, "and correct me if I am wrong but you being placed in a situation where you have to take orders by the Mikaelsons happened because Marcel put you in a position to have to deal with that," Caroline remarked earning Davina's petulant ire, "he brought you in the compound the day the Originals asked for you. Why is that?"

Davina crossed her arms in front of her chest. She looked both offended and intrigued.

"Marcel doesn't trust you," Davina forced out, "I can see why."

"Can you now?" Caroline strung the witch along with a sweet voice. She hadn't used that tone for years. Ever since she used to oppose those that believed they could take her leading position in her cheerleading squad.

Davina gave her a 'duh' kind of look.

Caroline fixed her curls and sighed.

"This place is killing my Zen, seriously," Caroline muttered and gazed at Davina sullenly, "everyone goes around thinking they know me as if I am an Original groupie or something," she grudged annoyed.

"Aren't you?" Davina confronted her and Caroline couldn't help but grimace.

"Hey!" she protested exasperated, "cheap shot!"

"You have to admit your ties with the Originals are not the best way for people to warm up to you," Davina pointed out and Caroline hummed.

"How about you judge me based on what you think and not on what Marcel thinks?"

"Curious," Davina smiled mockingly, "that's more or less the same line Kol threw at me."

Caroline shook her head. Of course, he did. Good one Kol.

"Well like the groupie you think I am Kol has taught me some of his nastiest tricks truth to be told but you judging people on your own?" Caroline pressed, "I promise you Davina that while Kol craves to manipulate that I have no such intentions."

Davina laughed at that.

"Am I supposed to believe that?"

"I hope not," Caroline blurted out, "Trust must always be earned."

Davina seemed to be confused by her and Caroline used that opportunity to seize Davina up.

She was cute, young, with a will made from iron. No wonder Kol wanted to lure her in.

Good luck with that Kol, she thought amused.

And yet there was something else about that girl that jarred Caroline. Davina weirdly enough, despite being a witch, felt…normal.

It somehow made Caroline feel normal. Like before.

"What?" Davina snapped under her scrutiny.

Caroline felt her heart clench for some reason. It made her ache for normalcy again.

She quickly squashed that feeling. She couldn't get sidetracked.

"You are not fond of vampires," Caroline deduced, "and yet you are loyal to Marcel and you hold no prejudice against Josh. Josh has spoken to you about me, no?"

"He enjoys your training," Davina told her and watched her carefully, "he says you are an okay person," she conceded begrudgingly and the paused and for some long moments it was Davina that examined Caroline with a piercing gaze before she finally asked, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you helping Josh?"

Caroline let out a slow breath and walked to the bench close to them and sat down.

"Newly turned vampires need all the help they can get," she told Davina, "especially in this city. Granted Josh is not in transition but it didn't take long to realize he hadn't had any positive influence to show him what being a vampire can mean."

Davina went and sat next to her and seemed a bit peeved.

"He had me."

Caroline smiled at the childishness in Davina's tone. She sounded offended, disappointed, and hurt. She was territorial when it came to Josh which meant that she didn't have many friends, to begin with. She probably felt neglected and lonely.

Caroline remembered a time when she felt exactly the same. As if she was all alone and an afterthought.

"You are not a vampire," Caroline amended trying to make her understand, "you don't know how it feels and sometimes you just need someone who has gone through the same thing to just be there."

Davina seemed to be thinking this over before she turned her attention back to her.

"This still is not answering my question. Why do this?" she insisted, "Just to get in Marcel's good side and get in his community?"

Caroline snorted at that but then got serious. She leaned back and allowed her eyes to roam at the buzz of the city.

"Small town girl," she mumbled quietly.

"Ha?"

"I am from a small town," Caroline explained.

"Mystic falls?"

Caroline tensed. She didn't like how people here knew of Mystic Falls. It put a target on the town and the people there. Her people.

Caroline met Davina's gaze.

"You've heard of Mystic Falls?"

"I've heard Marcel talk about it," Davina told her and Caroline mentally forced herself to remain impassive. Marcel was a threat. One she had to disarm one way or another, "It's the place the Originals were born too," Davina mentioned.

Caroline couldn't help but sigh at that.

"Yes it is," she affirmed, "today it's a bit different though. Nothing like the Big Easy and yet in some ways more similar than I'd expect. You see the place I grew up in was brimming with all things supernatural," Caroline said remembering of the old days when she was oblivious about the world of magic and monsters. Until she became a monster herself. Maybe if she had known the truth from the start things would have turned out differently for her. Or maybe not. "You always knew about this world right?" she asked Davina although it was more of a rhetorical question, "You were born into it."

Davina nodded.

"You had a head start I guess," Caroline noted even though she could see that Davina didn't feel like she did. "I didn't," Caroline informed Davina, "I was totally unaware that the monsters under the bed could be a real thing. Like I used to like twilight and harry potter and that was the extent of my knowledge when it came to the supernatural."

"Harry Potter?" Davina laughed, "Really?"

"And Sabrina the teenage witch," Caroline beamed at Davina that finally had relaxed and watched her with mirth.

Caroline's smile slowly disappeared and she stared at her daylight ring.

"So when I died with vampire blood in my system…I was completely blindsided," Caroline remembered with a scoff thinking of how that was quite the understatement. She imagined however that it wouldn't give her any brownie points to reveal to Davina how she had killed her first man at the Carnival.

"When I first turned I was alone," Caroline whispered allowing herself one moment of vulnerability as she let herself dive into the memories that she generally refused to revisit these days. "I didn't know what was happening to me and I freaked out. I managed to leave the hospital before inflicting any damage," she said and slowly twirled her daylight ring around her finger, "and thankful I had a friend that became my mentor and taught me control. Because of him I embraced being a vampire instead of losing myself to my darkest urges. I'd be dead if Ste-" Caroline paused abruptly and took a deep painful breath. "I'd be dead," she eventually breathed out with a haunted look thinking of how in the end it didn't matter and she had died anyway. And the person she used to be, the person Stefan Salvatore saved when she had first turned would not survive Purgatory even for a day. Caroline shook her head pushing those memories and thoughts away. "People like Josh…they are good people. That doesn't have to change because they changed into vampires."

Davina remained silent, taking in her confession before she narrowed her eyes.

"Is this meant to move me?"

A smile slipped on Caroline's face and she challenged Davina with a pointed look.

"Is it working?"

Davina fidgeted a bit trying not to smile.

"Really," Davina persisted stifling a smile, "why are you telling me this?"

"Because this is why I came to you today," Caroline divulged, "I want to help people like Josh and that's why I want your help."

Davina gave her questioning gaze.

"There is a vampire Klaus Mikaelson has been compelling to be his errand boy," Caroline revealed, "and from the looks of it he isn't about to stop. He's having too much fun with it."

Of course, Caroline chose not to think of how she was also secretly compelling a bunch of professors to do her dirty work too.

Davina's face twisted angrily and Caroline knew she had her.

"So you are not on Klaus' side?"

Davina seemed unsure as if she didn't know if she should trust her or not.

"I am not going to lie to you Davina," Caroline responded deciding that honesty was the best policy here. At least as much honesty as she could spare for now. "Klaus is a sort of an on and off friend of mine, well…frenemy anyway," she said with a slight grimace because this wasn't an accurate label and yet she couldn't exactly explain the true nature of her relationship with Klaus Mikaelson.

What was he if not her friend and her enemy blended in one? Her frenemy maybe? Well not exactly. Maybe part friend with benefits part potential adversary Caroline thought. Slash maybe lover, slash something complicated, slash this was giving her a headache to even think about it.

"Hard to believe that monster has friends," Davina muttered bitterly.

"Yeah," Caroline shrugged, "he is an asshole no argument there."

Davina looked confused.

"If he is your friend-"

Caroline immediately stopped her right there.

"I won't stand back and watch Klaus hurt people just because he is bored or finds it convenient and funny," she declared, "and between you and me he does need some major ass-kicking from time to time to get his megalomaniac head out of his ass."

Davina's eyes widened.

"What?" Caroline gestured almost incredulously, "When I am right I am right."

Davina's brow furrowed.

"Aren't you afraid of him?"

"Are you?" Caroline challenged the witch and Davina's stubborn expression made Caroline's smile widen.

"Josh has told me you can magically remove compulsion," Caroline said, "You did it with him and Cami right?"

"Yeah."

"Care to do it for Aaron too?" Caroline asked her hopefully. She could definitely use an uncompelled Aaron.

"It will hurt," Davina warned and Caroline couldn't help but roll her eyes.

Magic coming with blood and pain?

"Shocker."


Kol Mikaelson silently walked on the stone path of the Lafayette Cemetery navigating through the seemingly endless rows of above-the-ground tombs.

His mood was deteriorating rapidly and he had the itch to kill. Things were not progressing according to plan and that made him murderous. The amicable surface was fading away and all that was left was chaos.

He usually relished in the chaos he embraced but he couldn't now. Not where Caroline Forbes was concerned.

Maybe he should fuck it all and leave New Orleans. It would be safer but he couldn't outrun what was in his mind. He could kill, maim and savage and the voices would not stop.

He didn't believe he had a conscience but even he could admit when he had majorly fucked up.

And he had.

He stopped walking and stood in the distance.

With her back turned on him, Caroline was standing in front of the abandoned graves of the Forbins.

Another dead end.

One that would not put an end to her obsession but rather feed it. He had seen her inner core; it was made from metal that would not bend nor break and he had seen her ability to be consumed by her drive and commitment to succeed where others failed. Once she had a goal, once she put her mind into something, there was no force in this earth, heaven, or hell that could stop Caroline Forbes. He had seen it in Purgatory and he saw it now.

Caroline was on a mission. Even he couldn't believe how easily she had snatched Jared Forbin's corpse from under their noses and no locator spell could unearth him from whatever hole Caroline stuffed him in.

Between him, Klaus, and Elijah the witches of New Orleans were under their influence, and yet Caroline found a way because there had to be magic involved for her to make Jared Forbin's remains disappear. And after the treaty, his family signed it would not be an easy fit to act against Caroline without putting a target on her back.

Thankfully the hunter's bloodline had been eradicated for years. He had been the last member of his family and now he was dead too and that's where the trail turned cold for Caroline.

He had personally covered Forbin's tracks and he could bet that Caroline was on to him. She wasn't a fool. There were too many coincidences for any of this to be coincidental.

Purgatory had turned Caroline to a huntress too in a peculiar way so despite the missing information it would not be a reach to assume she had started connecting the pieces. She could feel that the hunter who killed her was connected with something big. Something that had to do with her. She knew that asshole had killed her for some reason and Kol had been cursing himself for not having found Forbin earlier. He knew his face. He had seen it in Caroline's memories in Purgatory when he had tricked her into showing them to him during training. He taught her how to enter other people's minds while taking a peek into her memories. He had that fucker's face and he missed the opportunity to kill him because he had been so obsessed with his family feud instead of acting on time.

And now he was on a tight schedule. Caroline had been trying to track the other hunters that had killed her but those were already dead. After her death, Klaus had brutally taken out every vampire hunter related to Mystic Falls and Whitmore. He had avenged Caroline's death but Forbin somehow escaped that dreaded fate and dared to show his face in New Orleans.

Maybe because fate could not be fucked with, to begin with. It always found a way to fuck them back.

He knew that all too well but he still couldn't help but struggle. Fate was a fickle bitch after all. And if he couldn't defeat her he would manipulate her to his advantage.

Kol closed his eyes. This is what he had done with Caroline from the moment he saw her in Purgatory. And now fate was about to bite his ass.

He opened his eyes and observed Caroline's rigid posture. She was set on a crusade and he couldn't stop her.

Caroline had proved to be a good student.

His greatest student.

She had already clawed into the Claire witch weaving herself slowly into the witch's trust. He knew what would follow next. Caroline was set on unearthing secrets buried in the dust of the past for centuries and he wouldn't be able to stop her. After that, it would be only a matter of time before she realized what he had done.

What he had done to her.

No.

Fuck no.

Caroline could never learn the truth. Not only the truth Klaus and Elijah knew. But what he had done. How he had used her.

No.

She could never know. No one could. Not even his brothers. If Caroline ever found out what he had truly done… Kol shuddered even at the thought of it. She'd hate him forever. And what was worse is that he knew he deserved it. All of it. All her hate. All her resentment. Now and always.

Kol walked out of the shadows forcing a smile on his face.

When he approached her Caroline didn't turn around to face him but he knew she had felt his presence.

Caroline stared at the tomb of Forbin's grandfather. For fuck's sake Caroline was like Nik when it came to getting obsessed with something. She would not relent. She would patiently wait until she wouldn't have to wait anymore. Then there would be no stopping her.

"Have you warned the little witch to not fall for me?" Kol jested making sure to sound aloof, "you wound me, Caroline. You know I am irresistible."

Caroline ignored his attitude altogether. She didn't even dignify him with a response or even a glance.

"Are you hiding anything from me Kol?"

Her voice was flat. Detached.

The calm before the storm.

"Is this a rhetorical question?"

"If so," Caroline stipulated, "this is your chance to come clean with me," she offered softly, "I won't give you another."

Kol felt his skin stretching uncomfortably over his bones.

She would not forgive. She would not forget.

"And why is that?" he asked, "especially now."

He had to stall. He had to find a way to put her on the wrong track. If he could dodge straight out of this hell he would but he couldn't leave while Caroline was trapped inside the city. That damn barrier his mother set was unbreachable and even if the barrier came down Caroline would not leave. Not now.

Even if it all came down to Caroline hating him he would still not leave her defenseless. She could fight her battles, he knew that but he owed her. More than she knew.

Caroline stepped closer to the tomb. She ran her fingers on the stone letters tracing Forbin's name.

Kol stared at the necklace she wore. Like a noose around her neck.

Fuck her neurotic fixation.

"Because after what happened with the hunter I realized you were right," she answered and Kol narrowed his eyes at her.

Her deviant ways, so similar to his since he had taught them to her, were getting under his skin and he could barely keep his mask in place.

"I always am," he shrugged and the forced nonchalance became an ache, "But what in particular are you referring to?"

Caroline ignored his sarcasm and turned around and leaned against the tomb making herself comfortable.

She then crossed her arms in front of her chest and Kol eyed her carefully. From her perfectly curled locks straight down to her shiny stiletto heels. She was dressed as if she was about to walk down the fashion runaway. Tight-formed jeans, black leather jacket over a silk red blouse, and that fucking pendant dangling down her neck like a beacon for trouble.

To the human nose, she smelled like roses. To his like vervain.

She didn't trust him and the loss of her trust hurt. More than he thought it would.

"I can't win unless I play," she tossed his words back at him.

Kol smirked.

Well…fuck.

"But each game has its teams darling," he reminded her ready to divert her from the target and he could see right now her target was him, "should you want to play you should be ready to pick one."

Caroline's beatific smile was unsettling.

"You and Klaus are definitely brothers I'll give you that."

Ouch…That served him right he guessed.

Darling Caroline wasn't pulling her punches Kol thought pressing his lips mockingly.

"Let me guess," he sighed theatrically, "Nik beat me to it and gave you an ultimatum. You are either on his side or you face the consequences."

Caroline's smile didn't falter.

"Are you going to give me an ultimatum too?"

She used to sing lullabies in Purgatory with the very same soft voice. When she was trying to remember home. When she believed it would be safe to sleep because he'd protect her.

The same sweet cadence that warmed even his undead heart.

Only she had then learned to sing like that when she had started enjoying the kill in Purgatory and it twisted her insides until she darkened from the inside out.

Her eyes were hard as she challenged him now and Kol scoffed. Nik was an idiot. Ultimatums would not work on Caroline. They wouldn't work on her before she entered Purgatory how much more after she came out of it.

"I know it wouldn't work."

Caroline checked out her perfectly manicured nails. Also red. Blood red.

"It won't."

Kol snorted.

"And here I thought you and I were a team…now and always."

Their oath left a bitter taste in his mouth as he recited the words that should have been a promise and not a betrayal.

Even though he had warned her he would betray her in the past. It wasn't his fault she hadn't listened.

So why did this hurt so much?

Caroline smirked.

"Are you using the same credo with all your other teammates, Kol Mikaelson?"

Kol felt a muscle twitch on his jaw and gritted his teeth. She surely meant his brothers but he could not bite that easily.

"My, my, you weren't kidding about playing," he noted with a whistle, "not fond of witches all of the sudden?"

Or just of me? he thought ruefully as he acted as if he assumed she spoke about his relations with the witches instead of what she really meant.

Caroline's brow arched up. She would go along with it.

"I am not an Original to have them do my bidding," Caroline quipped, "If anything by virtue of having fangs and whatnot I'd say the servants of nature are not fond of me. Especially your mommy dearest."

She added the last part with venom and Kol couldn't help but share the sentiment.

Klaus believed his score to settle with Esther was bigger than his but he would not forget how that bitch took away his magic and condemned him to forever rely on mere objects to ignite what should have been his true legacy. He was left playing with dying embers while the fire was always gone. Snuffed out and he was left with the cold.

"Mommy ain't a servant of nature darling," Kol corrected Caroline ignoring his body's natural response to hiss the words instead of offering them with a sardonic edge, "She's a walking corpse."

"Aren't we all?" Caroline mumbled making him chuckle.

"Touchy these days aren't you?"

In an instance, Caroline's disposition turned….feral. The air charged.

A threat.

Oh yes...he had indeed taught her well.

He'd take pride in that if he wasn't about to get royally fucked.

"Your infamous art of diversion won't work on me," Caroline purred coyly, "You know this."

Kol lifted his shoulders.

"Why would I need to do this?"

"Why indeed?" she wondered while keeping his gaze hostage.


Purgatory

Howling was a whisper in the distance and Caroline was growing wearier and wearier. In moments like these, she missed being alive the most. She craved warmth and a world where monsters would not lurk in every shadow; and yet despite the nostalgia of that distant past that she still dreamed of becoming the future, she knew that what she dreamed of was an illusion. Even when she was alive monsters did hide in the dark and she had been one of them. The only problem was that she hadn't fully accepted her nature because maybe if she had she wouldn't have ended here.

Then again Kol was here too and he didn't have any problem embracing his monster. It didn't save him either.

Maybe she was gullible. Maybe either way there was no hope and she was already fighting a lost battle. Maybe one way or another Purgatory would still become her end destination but she could not imagine spending eternity here. She had to get out.

And Kol Mikaelson was her only chance of surviving this hell and getting out of Purgatory but in moments like these, she felt as if Purgatory would be safer if she kept her distance from the Mikaelson that was steadily using pieces of stones and wood to create his hand made weapons. He was trying to teach her how to create blades and staffs out of rocks and rotten branches too. And when he wasn't showing her how to assemble a weapon he was using anything he could find to show her how deadly a weapon could be and how anything could be turned into a weapon.

Caroline tried to sit up and find a comfortable position to rest but she couldn't. Her whole body ached. Everything was crumbling inside her as her body was decomposing slowly. She was filthy. So dirty. She'd give right about anything for a shower right about now. Her whole body ached for it.

Funny that she still had a body though. A physical presence. She knew she had left a corpse back in the land of the living and yet her soul here was not ether and smoke. It was rotten flesh and broken bones.

So many bones broken and most of them by Kol's hands.

She sighed and she tried to focus on the howling in the distance. It wasn't bothering her anymore. It still turned her blood to ice but she was becoming accustomed to it. It felt reassuring to know she could tell where the danger was coming from. It was the silence now that horrified her the most but she could get used to that brand of horror too in time.

Truth was that she had been getting accustomed to many horrors and Kol Mikaelson seemed to be one of the worse if not the worst.

Caroline wrapped her arms around her belly and imagined she was back at her comfortable bed eating French fries and listening to music. She didn't know if those dreams helped her or destroyed her more. She knew that she just had to take her mind away from the pain she was feeling right now. Her whole body ached and without being able to feed regularly she wasn't healing from Kol's endless beatings.

She was bruised and flayed everywhere and she was constantly inhaling vervain which wasn't helping but the air in Purgatory wouldn't just change because Kol Mikaelson was beating the crap out of her.

Sometimes it felt pointless. As if he was just relishing in getting her hurt which she assumed he also did but as the days had blended into weeks and then into months she could feel her skills improving. Not by much as she was still not a match for Kol or for most of the monsters that lingered here but it was a start.

Sometimes she wondered if Kol would have helped her if she hadn't been somewhat connected with Klaus when she was alive and there were those other times that she felt that Kol was hurting her even more exactly because he knew that Klaus had taken an interest in her and Kol derived sick amusement in tormenting and breaking something his brother had cared for.

There were times Kol couldn't hide his delight when he was breaking her piece by piece. Every hit he landed was joined by unconcealed euphoria. It was as if he was feeling more alive when he hurt her.

Because that was what Kol's particular brand of training was all about in the end. Lots and lots of hurt until she would become twisted to not get hurt anymore.

Only right now the delight in his eyes was gone.

In times like these Kol was terrifying her. The usual drive in his eyes was gone and nothing but emptiness remained.

She hated to admit this but she had become accustomed to his moods. To his rage, his insanity, his sadistic inclinations. Kol found delight in pain and misery, he loved playing mind games and tormenting others and himself too but there were times that he felt nothing.

It was unsettling really.

It was not like he was even turning off his humanity. The switch was there untouched but Kol Mikaelson was gone.

And in those moments she knew he was capable of anything because he felt nothing. No remorse, no emotion, no fear or hope. He was absolutely hollow and nothing filled the emptiness. No despair, no joy, no hate, just...nothing.

Caroline dared to let her eyes examine him now as he used one of the leather straps he had made by skinning one of the beasts that had attacked them today to bind rock and wood together to make a bow and arrows.

His movements were precise and Caroline could tell he knew what he was doing. It felt natural to him and he probably had done it a thousand times before. Not just here but also when he was alive. It was hard to imagine how old Kol was. The fact that he looked young didn't mean he was. She had to remember that. Just like the rest of the Mikaelsons Kol had been born in the Viking era. It was hard to imagine he was born during the Middle Ages and outlived the medieval period. He was a freaking Viking despite how his parents had fled Europe and Mikael had trained him and his brothers as he would have if they would go raiding across the seas.

Kol now worked on creating more weapons but while his knowledge was old his eyes were lifeless. Not jaded or forlorn. Just empty. They looked like icicles in the dark but they are not hard as she would expect.

They were just not soft either. Hard to imagine that she had once considered Klaus' eyes to be cruel. Klaus' darkness was nothing compared to the empty void Kol's gaze harbored.

"You know the legend of the phoenix, Caroline?"

Kol's soft voice startled her.

Of course, he could tell she was staring even without looking at her but it was the way he said her name that felt disorienting. He never called her Caroline. It was always darling or something else to mock her with. Just like Klaus, Kol loved pet names too.

She stiffened and nodded knowing that Kol could see her reaction even without looking at her. His senses were attuned to every movement and sound.

Kol smiled and she felt her skin prickling. That smile looked grotesque for some reason and it felt as if someone was dousing her with ice water.

"It gets reborn from its ashes," Caroline said trying to not show her rising fear to him and Kol hummed pleased.

That's what they were trying to do after all. Their end goal was to escape Purgatory. To be reborn. From their ashes too.

Just like a Phoenix would.

"Magnificent creature, hopeful story," Kol mused and Caroline almost smiled because it was a beautiful thing to dream of. To be as strong and beautiful. To glow and rise and fly free.

"Most are missing the painful part of what makes those creatures magnificent, to begin with," Kol chuckled and Caroline gave him a questioning look.

His eyes found her. Empty eyes.

"They burn, Caroline," Kol reminded her and she swallowed hard.

"To rise from your ashes you must first let the fire consume you. A phoenix will ascend but in doing so first it burns until there's nothing left. Because that's necessary. The ugly always defines the beauty," Kol pointed out and while Caroline listened raptly she felt a weird feeling. As if he was misleading her somehow. She didn't know why she felt that way but she did.

"In order to rise you first need to fall," he mused and Caroline frowned.

"We've done that haven't we?"

Kol gave her a condescending look.

"I have. You? Not yet I am afraid."

"I don't get it."

The manic gleam in Kol's gaze made her squirm.

"Have far are you willing to go darling?" Kol asked her and she held her breath, "How far can you reach?"

She locked her eyes with his.

"I'd do anything to get out of here," she vowed resolutely and Kol watched her amused.

"Anything?" he echoed her words, his tone a purr.

"Anything."

He arched a brow at her.

"Even burn?"

"These metaphors are getting old Kol," she huffed frustrated, "Out with it."

"It's not a metaphor, love. Are you willing to set yourself on fire?"

"Knowing you you'd probably do it for me," she uttered peeved.

Kol chuckled and nodded.

"I could. And heads up one of those days I just might. Your pain threshold sucks. You need to build up a tolerance to fire and sun-related pain."

Caroline cringed at that and tried to hide the tremble of her body as the promise of more pain terrified her and she knew Kol wasn't kidding. She wanted to point out to him there was no sun in Purgatory but she knew there were places in this hellhole that reflected light that burned worse than the sun here. Literal hellfire.

"Unfortunately, however," Kol continued, "you are the only one that can burn the good parts. I can only reach skin deep."

"The good parts?" she questioned. He made no sense and he rolled his eyes at her when he realized he had to spell it out for her.

"Takes a certain conviction to do what's necessary no matter how much it hurts," Kol said and worked on the string of the bow he was making before he set it aside and gave her his full attention, "are you willing to do the ugly? Are you willing to do anything it takes?" he asked her and it would seem that the howling in the distant and roaring winds stopped. "Are you willing to set fire to everything holding you back? Throw the match and watch the whole world burn?"

Silence enveloped them.

"That pesky heart of yours is your undoing," Kol told her and she felt something inside her coil. "I can't beat it out of you. Death couldn't do that either. Hell hasn't so far. Only you can."

Caroline looked away. She wanted to get away somehow. But there was no place to go.

"You haven't so far. So tell me again, Caroline," he intoned every syllable of her name as if it was a song, "will you do anything to get out of here?"

Caroline pressed her lips and said nothing.

"Stubborn little thing aren't you? Or just …weak?" Kol provoked her.

"Screw you!"

"But you'd do anything," he mocked her making her increasingly angrier, "Kill, destroy…betray?" he asked and Caroline almost blinked at the way he delivered the last word particularly.

"Look around darling. Purgatory is the biggest monster there is," Kol simply said, his words laced with something akin to respect. "It takes monsters, chews them and spits them out," he snickered, "You want to get out? Great," he shrugged, "be the biggest monster then. Goodness, love, morality are useless shit holding you back. Defeat is no option and for that you need to do anything to feed your monster, make it hungry, make it angry, make it ruthless," he coaxed her but his voice was a dauntless whisper, "I can teach you how to take a beating. How to fight. How to withstand pain. But the rest is up to you. Your mentality is fractured and I can't work with that unless you are willing to do what it takes," his eyes glistened dangerously, "Anything."

Her heartbeat was starting to beat erratically.

"So," he taunted her but underneath there was an undercurrent of honest curiosity, "Are you ready to do all that? To do anything it takes. Even destroy everything you hold dear?"

Could she?

"Strength comes with a price," Kol warned her, "Freedom even more so. Always. It demands payment. Blood. Death. Violence. It requires to do all the dirty abhorrent crap others are not willing to do. To enjoy it even. To stoop so low knowing that every time you step up to that particular task you will be trading the good parts of yourself for those you detest until there will be nothing of you recognizable."

"If there is no me left then what's the point of all this?" she asked him, her question spoken softly. Vulnerably.

Kol's smirk was bitter.

"To survive, darling."

It was that simple after all. They did all so to survive.

Otherwise, there would no other reason for them to be together right now.

And as she saw into his eyes she could have sworn that deep down under all the emptiness something flickered.

And deep down she knew that if it ever came down to her or him Kol would not hesitate because that was who he was. He was capable of doing it all. Anything it would take and this was right now his only warning.

He would betray her.

Caroline frowned at that thought. Would he or was he already?

She almost shook her head. He had no reason right now. It was not as if he had anything to gain from her by betraying her before they left this place. He needed her as she needed him otherwise he wouldn't carry her around like a burden. She was his dead weight and he was training her not to be. He was training her to be able to do anything. And right now he was making it clear that in order for him to continue wasting his time with her she had to be worth it and in his eyes that only meant that she had to become someone ready to take his teachings at heart. Someone he could invest in teaching. Someone capable of becoming something just as terrible as he was. Something terrible and strong enough to be able to get them out of this hell.

Would it be worth it though? To do anything? To trade all that defined her and made her who she was?

She tried to remember what she knew about Purgatory and all she came up with was that his hell was a stage of suffering for a soul to eventually transition to heaven. How could they get to heaven when they couldn't be any further away from it? She couldn't see any heaven in her future because purgatory infected them and survival became an ugly thing. Could they come back from that? She didn't know if she could unbreak the broken.

So what would be left?

She was willing to find out.

And just maybe by the time she did, she would be able to follow in Kol's steps and do what it takes.

What it takes to survive. No matter the cost.

Just maybe.

Without any warning, Kol fired an arrow at her with his new bow. Aiming straight between her eyes.

Exhaustion made her reflexes human and Kol knew it only this time she caught the projectile in the air and threw it back at him.

"Guess it works," Kol simply said catching the arrow and shoving it in the ground next to him, his eyes finally coming alive again.


If Klaus Mikaelson was the master schemer Kol was the trickster. While Klaus was a mastermind in manipulation Kol Mikaelson was the deceiver. He relished in chaos and tricks. He was like a stage magician. He always made you look elsewhere while the actual tricks were staged right under your nose in plain sight. Kol was skilled in illusions and was just as deceptive as he was elusive.

In Purgatory she had considered that side of him seductive and she herself had adopted some of his traits but as Kol now insisted using his tricks against her she considered finding one of Klaus' infamous daggers and compelling a human to dagger Kol over and over again.

It took her a long time to be able to see under the surface when it came to Kol. While Klaus lied with omission and half-truths Kol was able to lie with the truth. He was hiding something from her and it hurt.

Somehow Kol's behavior felt more like a betrayal than Klaus'. She expected that much from Klaus but she had been naïve to believe that Kol would not do this to her. Not after all the crap, they had faced together.

And as she watched him now she wanted to slap herself for being such an idiot. Their friendship had been a losing game from the start.

So far Kol remained playful and aloof while he was trying to convince her to join his dealings with the witches and to negotiate her position in the vampire community.

He was trying to entice her to come to his side.

And that was the deceit.

He believed that he could actually make her look elsewhere.

But no matter where she looked her attention would always return to him. There was something under the surface. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was regret. She couldn't tell and it drove her crazy.

What was he hiding from her and why?

Was he on this with Klaus?

Why?

"You will need witches to break down the barrier darling," Kol reminded her.

"I am not interested in the barrier anymore."

"No?" Kol marveled as if her statement surprised him. "why is that?"

Caroline decided to play along. If he wanted to divert her then so be it. She'd follow the trail to see where it ended.

"Why would I want to leave Kol?" she shot back and played with the necklace's chain. "I have riddles to solve and answers to get but let us assume it was still my priority," she mused, "are you hypothetically speaking? Because all this time and every witch Klaus and Elijah supposedly asked came with the same answer. Esther's spell can't be broken," Caroline repeated the words they had fed her countless times, her tone dripping irony, "unless you have found a way and you are holding it as leverage against me. To use it when it will be convenient for you."

She stepped closer to him.

"Is that it Kol?"

Kol smirked.

"Why would I need leverage against you? Are you siding against me?"

Caroline had never wanted to hit more than she wanted at that moment. Kol sounded so much like Klaus. Damn it they were truly brothers. Both of them were made from the same cloth deep down…no wonder they clashed like this all the time.

Kol's eyes were now gleaming with satisfaction. He knew he had managed to push her buttons so it was time for her to take the bite.

Two could play this game.

"Enough with these stupid games," she grumbled, "Let's get down to it shall we?"

Kol grinned at her.

"A witch rebellion Kol?" she exclaimed throwing her hands up, "Really?"

Kol now looked like the cat that got the cream.

"You say rebellion...I say restoration."

Caroline rolled her eyes.

"Potato, potato," she mumbled.

"Weren't you an advocate of equal rights?" Kol mocked her and Caroline huffed.

"How is bringing chaos going to help with that?"

"Oh, now you sound like Elijah," Kol cringed and Caroline actually did flinch in response.

"At least he does not want to raise hell without caring for the consequences."

She sounded judgmental even in her own ears.

"So do we need…order?" Kol grimaced as if he had tasted something sour. "Maybe your loyalties lie with my brothers after all. Nik will surely be happy to hear it."

"I did not say that," Caroline bit out.

"What are you saying then?" Kol taunted her.

"God," Caroline complained with a mumble, "You are annoying."

"And you are losing perspective. All because of that pesky hunter."

And…there it was. He would now try to throw her off track. To make her see reason. As if Kol Mikaelson and reason ever went along together.

"He is dead Caroline," Kol reasoned, "that's it. In the end you got your revenge, one by the way you have deprived me of ever getting when it comes to your precious friends," he added pointedly, "and now here we are. You are here alive and well. Move on."

Caroline wished this would not hurt as much as it did.

But it did.

It shouldn't hurt that much. He had practically spelled it out for her in Purgatory. He'd betray even her.

And he had.

She should have listened.

"I've hit dead end over dead end when it comes to the hunter," she said keeping her frustration under control with a tight leash. It was not time to unleash all that she felt. Not yet. It was not the opportune moment. "It is as if someone is chop-blocking me before I get down to the bottom of this," she pointed out knowing how Kol would expect that reaction from her.

"Have you considered that just maybe you are obsessing over nothing?" he proposed, "you can't find anything if there's nothing to find."

If Kol Mikaelson himself hadn't been the one to teach her how to play these games she would have broken down by now.

She had graced Klaus with her honesty and had made her intentions clear with him. She knew she had been overly dramatic in her declarations but she had to get through to Klaus and since Klaus Mikaelson was the biggest drama queen to have ever walked the planet she had matched his persona with her own.

But she would not do the same with Kol. Because she had expected more from Kol. She had trusted him, damn it!

Kol Mikaelson had been her mentor, her ally, her partner. He had been her savior, her friend, her brother. He had corrupted her yes. But he had also held her through it all. Practically carried her through hell. How could he do this to her now? Why?

If after all, they had been together this was how he'd treat her then that's how she'd treat him too.

She resigned to this reality.

And it sucked. It sucked so much.

"Why are you so sure there's nothing to find?"

"Simple," Kol said, "You'd have found it if there was."

"And you know nothing."

"I know plenty, love," Kol drawled, "Just nothing that can help you."

Caroline kept her breathing calm. She had even mastered the ability to control her heart rate. Keep every beat on the perfect rhythm. Like a symphony that would never reach a crescendo. Kol had taught her that. Among many other things.

Kol that was now lying to her.

He was setting her up for failure.

This was how he repaid her? She picked him up and raised him from damnation and this was what she got in return?

Fire burned through her veins. Like acid that ate everything, starting from her trust ending at her love for him. Because she had loved him.

But he had been the one to teach her how to burn the good parts.

"Something is telling me that your definition of help is different from mine Kol," Caroline said in a dull voice. "And if that's the case then maybe I should find someone who can actually help me."

Kol's stance changed. The easy-going attitude he had so brilliantly fabricated got replaced by growing agitation.

"Careful, darling," he warned her and his voice reminded her of the times he trained her in Purgatory without mercy. He would build her up and break her down over and over again until she would learn not to break. Until she would be too broken to break any further, "dead ends can be tiring to the soul."

Betrayal can be more, Caroline thought bitterly.

"Fine Kol," she resigned, "have it your way for now. I have to go anyway."

"Of course you have to train vampires and work at a bar," he snorted, "how could I ever forget."

"Don't forget. I won't forget this either," she promised him but before she could walk away Kol had grabbed her and threw her back on the stones.

His attack jarred her whole body as the old Forbin tombstone got smashed and fell down in pieces. Bones and relics scattered.

"Would your vampires stand a chance against anyone if their teacher cannot take the heat for more than a few seconds?" Kol sneered at her aiming for the necklace on her neck, meaning to rip it off, and she snarled him just as she twisted his hand away.

He would not take this away from her. No one would.

They fought and Caroline felt Kol's rising menace. He hadn't acted like this since her early days in Purgatory.

He was once more trying to teach her a lesson only she wasn't the defenseless girl she used to be.

She fought back and if Kol wasn't an Original she'd have inflicted real damage and would have aimed for the head. And if she wasn't taught by an Original she would be missing a heart right about now.

She gave her all and with every hit she landed flashes from Purgatory exploded in her mind. Kol was now one of the monsters she had faced there. He was a threat she had to eliminate. She fought back and she remembered all his abuse in Purgatory and she hit him harder and harder not caring for how her knuckles broke. All she wanted was to hurt him. Truly hurt him.

After all, he had been her mentor. He had taught her not to show mercy.

Kol kicked her hard shattering her kneecap throwing her down on the stone path.

She reached for one of the wooden crosses that had fallen down and swiveled her body to the side before Kol could snap her neck. The cross shizzled in her hand. It was coated in vervain. In a blurry motion, she stabbed him with the wood.

Kol groaned when she punched her hand inside his belly and impaled him down on the ground with the wood still in his gut. The vervain boiled his blood and his insides as well as her fingers that twisted inside him.

"Is this another lesson on your "anything it takes" crap?" she hissed the words as if she was choking on poison. His words from the past lingered between them…Kill, lie…betray.

"Screw your lessons! Ugly, fucked up and all!" she spat at him.

Kol stared at her with a pained expression and a pang of guilt shook her. Her hand was still tearing up his insides but it was the misery in his eyes that was her undoing.

It wasn't the physical pain. It wasn't skin deep.

Kol sought the pain because he felt he deserved it. Because this was his frame of mind. Because he would do anything it takes no matter how ugly. Because he was doing it right now.

Caroline realized he had let her do this. He lashed out because he wanted her to hurt him.

She would not allow him this. This would not be his punishment. She would be the one to decide how he would pay.

Tears stung her eyes and she twisted her hand before she yanked it out leaving the vervained cross inside him. Everything would heal around the wood that was still impaling him on the ground.

If he wanted her to hurt him so she would. But on her terms. Not like this.

She pushed her bloody hand over his torn chest and tapped her finger over his heart.

Because Kol wasn't just screwed up in the head. He was screwed up in the heart too.

"For everything you taught me, because of it and despite it," she let out the words with difficulty, "I know what's in here, Kol Mikaelson," she whispered, her disappointment unraveling, "I just made the mistake to believe it was worth more."

She made the mistake to believe that it wasn't that ugly.

Kol inhaled sharply but she shook her head and got up.

She threw a last glance at him before she turned to leave.

"If you are looking for lies and liars," Kol got out spitefully, "better check in the mirror first. Take a good hard look at all the ugly you see there."

Caroline stopped in her tracks without turning around to face him. She didn't have to look for his vicious words to cut deep, without mercy.

"We both know you are using this newfound crusade of yours to make the madness make sense."

Kol didn't even bother picking himself up.

"It won't. You can't erase what's part of you," Kol laughed coughing blood, "Jared Forbin defined your death and nothing else matters darling?" he ridiculed her, "Not even what followed after, right? Everything you did…no matter what it took."

No matter what it took. What it took from her.

He had warned her and she had wondered if it would be worth it. To end here with nothing but the ugly left?

Caroline swallowed down hard.

"Does it help?" Kol grunted as he dug inside his skin and removed the blood dripping piece of wood from his belly throwing it away carelessly. "Pretending that nothing ever happened beyond that moment?" he taunted her, his voice empty and dead just like the place that brought them together and tortured them for so long, "Pretending that you were never there? Does it help?"

There was resignation and accusation in Kol's scathing voice.

He never mentioned Purgatory to her.

The fact that he did now showed her exactly how broken they truly were. What they had had been tainted from the start.

Caroline's broken hands turned to fists but she did not turn to look at him. She couldn't look at him anymore.

"I do not know Kol," she coldly forced out, "does it help pretending that you never left?"

Without looking back she walked away wishing she could leave Kol behind just as she had left Purgatory behind.

But deep down she knew that just like Purgatory Kol Mikaelson would haunt her just the same.


Haunted. That was what this place felt like.

Anytime she came here she got the same vibes.

The crumbling amusement park was always giving away a haunting feeling and she should know because when it came to haunted places she was an expert after Purgatory.

This place was huge and should have been demolished but survived.

Caroline didn't miss the irony. How for something to survive had to break, to be scarred, to end a desolate place where demons like vampires and monsters would occupy because that's what haunted places did. They attracted monsters. They created survivors.

She had read the story of the Jazzland. For weeks the entire place had been submerged in the floodwaters and everything had succumbed to nature's rage and even today it showed. Many things had been lost underneath feet of water and when the water drained nothing was the same anymore.

Years later and the smell still lingered. It was old. Almost suffocating.

Marcel's men had tried to revitalize the place and make it functional. They had cut the grass from the overgrowing paths. They tried to salvage more of the flooded areas and they cleaned the mud. They gathered the broken glass and the scrap metal and threw it away but it did not make any difference.

This place remained creepy and eerie and there was this musty smell everywhere despite how most of the buildings around remained sturdy.

It was a ghost town filled with dark rides and park spinning rides and so much graffiti art that she loved seeing.

Every wooden panel creaked and every metallic beam was rusty.

Marcel's crew had transformed so many rides and buildings into fighting cages and boxing rings. They had put bench presses, punching bags, and weightlifting equipment everywhere. They all trained here so they had stocked this place with everything they needed. From weapons to training gear to generators to keep the fridges filled with booze and blood working.

When she had first came here she had pretended to be disgusted but in truth, she had been distraught because the haunting feeling reminded her of Purgatory. The earth here was brown and scarred as though it had been burnt by fire and everything that had once made the park vibrant had now faded. Everything was haunted by absence and felt completely hollow and blank.

And since this reminded her of Purgatory it also kind of reminded her of home. She hated that feeling the most but a part of her had made Purgatory her home for a long time and despite the lingering trauma and the nightmares and despite the terror, she felt when she remembered that place, a place she never wanted to see again, there was a part of her that was nostalgic too. It felt masochistic and insane but it existed inside her. Like a calling. Like something that was calling her back…home.

Now the Six Flags theme part of more accurately what was left from it wasn't Purgatory but somehow it was hitting that spot inside her.

She was becoming more and more comfortable here.

At nights she loved to climb the tracks of the Mega Zeph roller coaster. Down below, the grounds seemed eerily empty but in the distance New Orleans was alive. She came here often and then she would jump at the highest place of the roller coaster and enjoy the panoramic view despite the amulets that were placed on top of the ride.

The air cleared her head. The silence soothed her. And the magic now felt familiar.

Davina had installed wards around the park to keep the lovers of the urban legends away. Caroline could feel the illusion magic crawling all over her skin. Once a human would come anywhere near this place the protection spells would filter and emanate magic of low frequency. It was relatively harmless but it acted as a deterrent. Anyone wanting to come any closer would suddenly feel uninterested and find a reason to walk away as if they were not meant to be here in the first place.

Marcel Gerald also put an end to the market that wanted to have access to the Six Flags. Commercial or otherwise. After all, this was the perfect place to become a film set for various Hollywood productions and documentaries that now Marcel made sure would not take place here anymore.

So right now this had become vampire central and today was a busy day.

Usually, she would be found in one of the rings below training with Josh and other newbies that wanted to survive their transition and learn how to control their vampirism by honing their fighting skills.

Only today had been a bit different because one thing led to another and she was now stuck inside the carousel facing a shirtless sweaty Marcel. She could have stayed only in her sports bra too but she chose to keep the loose t-shirt on since she wanted to conceal the pendant she was wearing. But she had taken off her shoes and pants and only kept her tight running shorts on.

The old carousel was transformed. The painted galloping horses were removed and around the old elevated circular platform, a metal chain-link net was placed on the outer circle. Inside the fence, ropes formed a smaller inner circle creating the illusion of a fighting cage.

The platform could still rotate even without the horses and right now it was going round and round. The old metal gears that made the construction turn were producing a dull sound. An echo of rust as wood and metal clashed against each other over and over again.

Other vampires had stopped their training and now watched them from afar with interest playing bets on which one would be the winner.

They were at it for hours and Caroline had to admit that Marcel Gerard was good.

He was a great fighter and not just because of his superior physical strength compared to hers. The age factor that gave him an advantage could very well turn to a disadvantage because for what he made for strength she made for strategy; but she had to admit that Marcel had a great technique and Caroline could tell he was taught by a Mikaelson. Klaus had done a good job teaching him how to fight and even though Caroline could see the distinction between Klaus' style and Kol's she could also see some particular moves that Kol had shown her too. The youngest Mikaelson had taught her how to fight after all and she wondered if Klaus had been the one to teach Kol too because right about now she could see Klaus in Marcel and Kol in her and they were going toe to toe in the rotating carousel.

This was meant to be a training session. A display for other vampires to see how they could work with staffs and move around using martial arts to their advantage. Being a vampire meant nothing if you didn't know how to fight.

Soon however both she and Marcel became serious and this turned into a savage competition. Something to help them let off some steam and a way to make the other party submit only… neither one of them would.

Sweat was rolling down her back and drops of blood were littering the cracked floor from brutal blows both had managed to deliver to each other.

The staffs they were using were made from polished wood and heavy metal which added more pain on impact and were harder to handle due to their weight and lack of flexibility. Sure vampires could handle such weapons better than humans ever could but if you didn't know how to hold them right in time they'd take a toll on you and become a disadvantage.

Caroline knew how to handle such a staff however as Marcel did too.

When she came here her blood was still heated after her confrontation with Kol. Kol's last comment made the inside of her mind rage and her blood boil. She had to take all that rage out and what better way than to kick Marcel's ass and the fact that he was proving himself to be a challenge was making this both frustrating and exciting at once. She knew she was revealing more of her abilities to him. Marcel knew she could fight and she knew she had been a good trainer for the newbies but he hadn't seen the full extent of her fighting skills. She was still holding back and she could tell so was he but if she could see Klaus' technique in Gerard then chances were he could tell she was trained by a Mikaelson too. He was too perceptive to not have noticed.

Thrust after thrust their wooden staffs almost broke and it was solely on their balanced strikes that they didn't splinter. They both knew how and where to strike effectively and how to let their body and the rod in the hands absorb the impact of each blow.

From the corner of her eye, she could see money getting passed around. The bets were getting higher and while at first, most vampires were betting against her siding with their King now she was gaining steam.

She rolled her eyes at Marcel's smirk. He had also noticed and was taking pride at how his men favored him but Caroline could tell the women were definitely cheering for her along with Josh and some of his friends.

Caroline saw the slightest opening and used her dominant foot to balance herself before she executed a downward thrust. She held the staff as if it was a light feather and tilted it in the right angle to make the sweep even more deadly.

Anyone untrained and she would have taken their head off their shoulders but her forceful thrust found jarring resistance.

Their staves locked and Marcel pushed back while she pushed forward.

"You are good," Marcel acknowledged, his whole body heaving.

Despite his age, she was making him work for it.

Caroline felt the surge of adrenaline as Marcel rotated his body, unlatching their combat staffs and reversing his strike. The end of his bo staff was under his armpit and the other end pointed straight at her.

She barely managed to pivot her hips and jump up as Marcel's blow aimed for her legs right underneath his line of sight.

Marcel laughed as her back hit the net while she bounced straight back to her feet using her staff to propel herself to the other side of the cage.

They started circling each other, their eyes locked in a fight as well as their bodies.

Caroline was spinning the staff masterfully around her body. What was meant as a presentation of basic training techniques was now a duel to no end. They had moved past the simple rising blocks and reverse strikes. They kept parrying with sweeping and downward thrusts for hours now and it did them no good. They had to step up their game.

"Very good," Marcel complimented her again hoping to distract her. He was a talker. He liked to taunt. To mock. To use his voice and charm to make her look elsewhere and every time he did that he then predictably launched an attack.

It did him no good since the bo staff had become an extension of her arm.

"Almost as good as me," Marcel admitted making her huff a laugh before he withdrew his staff too and then tried to trick her by moving to the right and pretending to go for a fake attack. He wanted her to follow his steps and create a gap in her defenses but fighting was more than just blocking swings and stabbing at each other.

Fighting like this was like playing chess. It required strategy. To be able to see through your enemy and be more steps ahead of them.

Caroline had already seen the pattern in Marcel's moves and the varying distances he kept in certain footwork combinations he used. He would soon try to turn the tables on her and change his game just as she got used to this but she would also do the same.

A feint would not be enough.

She saw the shadow of his weapon slashing through the air like a whip and she withdrew her own weapon just in time to block his strike as he almost landed a blow to the side of her head.

Almost.

"Yes," Caroline sweetly said trying to restrain herself from panting. She would show no weakness. She would give no opening, "almost as good as you," she echoed with a beam, "let's pretend that's true," she mocked her opponent trying to use her cunning to get through his defenses.

She aimed for a feint too but instead of just going the predictable false move she already had the next strike after that planned firmly in her mind.

Marcel lost his footing and the vampires got silenced as they watched them with renewed interest and disbelief.

She launched a riposte just as Marcel surprised her and not only blocked her rotating move but thrust his staff aiming for her throat. She counter-attacked just in time seeing the clear striking opportunity before he did and used Marcel's staff as leverage while she slid her own against the wooden surface of his weapon making it creak before she went straight for his solar plexus.

She landed the hit and Marcel stumbled back watching her with frustration and awe. She could have impaled him if she wanted. Even staking his heart.

And he knew it.

"If almost lets you sleep at night," she silkily sang as the vampires around them cheered.

Marcel spat blood and then grinned at her.

She arched her brow at him and he laughed. The son of a bitch was enjoying this and then he went berserk at her.

Blow after blow, strike after strike.

No mercy.

The cheering around them became louder and Caroline could finally breathe better. This violence was her remedy. Ever since Purgatory, she needed to work the anger through pain and by testing her limitations bringing her body to the edge of its instincts letting the vampire take control and this was a safe environment to do that; as safe as fighting against Marcel Gerard could ever be.

He was good and so was she.

Her staff was long and slender and she could very well use it as a spear too and so she did just that as she slid on the ground and kicked Marcel's knees.

The base of his quarterstaff delivered a blunt blow on her back as his body flew to the side when she trapped his ankles between her thighs and rolled over taking him down with her.

Time to get dirty.

They went on with hand to hand combat. She could tell Marcel Gerard favored boxing while she was inclined to use more sophisticated martial arts' moves. They both when for the agile moves and the swift kicks changing quickly from offense to defense and back and forth.

The vampires around them were whistling and clapping.

Marcel wedged his foot under his staff on the ground and kicked it up. He caught it and she retrieved her staff with a backflip on the ground just in time to stop Marcel's crushing blow.

She avoided the next devastating blow and she delivered a parallel to the ground strike making her movement just as smooth as Marcel's. Her overhead blow almost snapped her staff in half as it connected with Marcel's back making him crouch in pain. He didn't make a sound though. Gerard had a high tolerance for pain as did she because when his staff bruised her mid-section she barely reacted making Marcel narrow his eyes at her before taking in her stance with newfound respect.

Marcel's blows felt like a tickle actually. Kol had trained her to feel no pain and she could tell Klaus had taught Marcel the same.

They attacked again and again and many times Caroline found herself against the net before she would maneuver her way out of the space Marcel had created for her using the direction of his blows as a way to corner her. She would also return the favor just as many times and Marcel would find himself thrown at the metal fence more than he would have liked much to his dismay.

He was older than her. Lived for centuries. Which meant faster and stronger but she was more ruthless and knew how to use her weaknesses for strengths.

They observed each other now.

Marcel's muscles were flexing. His was drenched in sweat and she was in a similar condition. Her loose ponytail was almost loose now and her damp hair was sticking on her neck and forehead.

Marcel blocked a leg attack and he utilized his staff perfectly.

She hummed her admiration and Marcel chuckled.

"You won't give up anytime soon will you?" Marcel realized impressed and Caroline smirked.

If he hoped to tire her out he had another thing coming.

"Not for the next century or so," Caroline taunted him taking a step back and rising the staff until she brought it over her shoulders at the back of her head in parallel to the ground. She supported her arms against the staff keeping her wrists bent looking chill and relaxed.

"What would it take for you to do so?" Marcel wondered looking impressed by her stamina, stubbornness, and technique as he pushed for a rising block aiming for her head.

"Tired already?" Caroline mocked him as Marcel repeated the move not leaving her any room to avoid his punishing thrusts. He couldn't just stand there and let her make a mockery out of his skills in front of his people. He had a reputation to uphold after all.

Caroline laughed avoiding his attacks and pushing her upper body back again and again not bothering to return the blows while still occasionally keeping her staff over her shoulders and occasionally twirling around with it making it slide artfully over her body as if she was a juggler and not a fighter in combat.

"Not any time soon," Marcel warned her but watched her with exasperation when she sent her staff twirling in the air before she kicked his staff away using the momentum to propel her body up as if his staff was a moving step that would send her flying to her staff.

She caught her staff in the air and went for a pirouette midair before she rotated her staff in the right angle to nick Marcel's eye.

She landed a few feet away and brought the one end of her staff under her right armpit and winked at him.

"Show off," Marcel mumbled shaking his head.

Caroline gave him a cocky smile and a slight theatrical bow.

"And this answers it," Marcel laughed and Caroline frowned as she blocked his attack and their bodies came close.

"I wondered who Mikaelson taught you but with this attitude, it could only have been the crazy one," Marcel observed and Caroline rolled her eyes.

"They are all the crazy ones," Caroline fired back and Marcel chuckled.

"They are… but none as much as the Unhinged one," Gerard mused and Caroline could see the distaste in his words and the curl of his lips.

'Oh, Kol…what have you done to him?' Caroline wondered mirthfully.

Nothing good it would seem.

"Debatable," Caroline countered Marcel's statement and their staffs slid against each other almost bringing up sparks from the force they used.

Her thoughts returned back to Kol and anger came rushing back. The Unhinged one. That's what so many called him in New Orleans and they were not wrong. Fucked up insane Kol Mikaelson that even now she wanted to protect against slander. Only it wasn't slander if it was true. A truth Kol was proud of. In the end, this was simply a fact despite how her first instinct was to defend Kol against Marcel. But she couldn't because she knew better than anyone that Kol was a freaking heartless monster and fuck him! Fuck him and Klaus and every Mikaelson to have ever pretended to care for her.

Caroline twisted her body and blocked Marcel's strike with her foot while his hand wrapped around her staff catching it mid-air.

Their gazes locked and clashed and as Marcel pulled her staff she kicked his away from his hand. By the time Marcel had her weapon in his hands, she had his in her own.

Around them, everyone cheered.

"You are one to talk Marcel. Your moves reek of Klaus," she snorted and Marcel smirked.

"One thing Klaus Mikaelson taught me is never to give up," Marcel threatened her and Caroline smirked.

"And there lies our difference. I didn't need a Mikaelson to teach me that," she sassed and pushed her staff in the air aiming it against him like a sword, "Did you need him to teach you that though?...Did you really?" she challenged him.

Marcel smiled. A dangerous smile and she had her answer.

"No, not particularly," Marcel amended making this personal between them.

"But?" she insisted when Marcel twirled his staff around his hands over and over again like the hands of a clock.

"But sometimes if you make the crazy ones think they can teach you more than what they actually can you may outmatch their madness," Marcel revealed in a tempting voice, lethal as he lulled her into the darkness and she let him do it.

His blow would have severed her head from her neck but instead, she gripped his staff holding it by the side of her neck keep her own as a supporting stick by her side.

Their faces came impossibly close. She could smell vervain in his breath.

"And there I could swear you are one of the crazy ones too," she whispered, her words a low vibration.

"You think you can outmatch my madness Forbes?" he provoked her and she saw so much of Klaus in him in that very moment that she knew exactly how to play the game.

Like an equal.

Caroline smiled. A genuine smile.

"Not outmatch it, no," she said and Marcel tilted his head resting his other hand over her staff as he lowered his to the side.

The carousel kept turning. They had stopped moving.

Everyone watched them curiously.

"Then?" he asked, intrigue shining in his eyes and Caroline faced him straight on.

"Match it."

Marcel squinted his eyes at her.

"Head on," she drawled.

Their dance began again only this time his hits were more successful. It would have made sense for her endurance to falter by now.

Marcel's eyes turned to slits when he realized she was taking the beating willingly.

She knew very well that in the end there was always a price and had to give something to gain something else.

So he could have this victory. She could give him this. For now.

Marcel didn't make his hits any softer, however. He only hit her harder and she stumbled back. He was testing her and she let him do that before she finally stepped back and under Marcel's scrutiny, she threw her staff at his feet admitting…defeat. As if she couldn't keep going anymore.

She gave him a tired nod and money exchanged hands as those that had bet on her lost their bets.

"What you told me at the ball," Caroline started and Marcel leveled a look at her.

"About us trying to get along," she clarified as Marcel raised his hand and dismissed those that kept watching them on the premises.

"Yeah?" he hummed and Caroline braced herself as he used his foot to pull her staff from the ground.

He caught it but then send his own flying like a spear straight at her. Caroline didn't blink. She didn't even move an inch as his staff grazed her ear before it stuck in the net behind her.

"What of it?" Marcel played along, his eyes taking in her fearless stance.

"I am not crazy enough not know when to call a tie," Caroline implied wisely even if her words held contradiction. Because just maybe in this case she was just crazy enough to call a tie. To match the madness. To want just as badly as Marcel Gerard to outmatch the Mikaelsons' insanity. Badly enough to call a tie with Marcel Gerard because she may have given up a win in cage fighting but this was a way to show him how she knew when to step back in order to not give in, "how about you Marcel?" she asked him just as he strolled at her and pushed the edge of the staff he was holding, her staff, under her chin.

The warning was clear. A flick of his wrist and heads would roll.

"Caroline Forbes," Marcel let his name slip his lips as if it was an exotic sound, "Klaus Mikaelson taught me many things. An important one was to always win. Never to lose. A tie is as good as defeat and that's never an option."

Caroline could see these were Klaus' words and they pretty much reflected Kol's lessons too. Defeat was never an option. Biding time was. Pretending to lose was. Losing never was.

Caroline regarded the staff apathetically before she stared at Marcel Gerard and snorted.

"Did you take Klaus' bullshit at heart?"

"Did you take Kol's?" he retorted and Caroline scoffed.

"What can I say, Marcel Gerard," she shrugged and pushed the staff away as if she was swatting a fly, "I never liked others telling me what I should or shouldn't do."

"Let me guess," Marcel examined the staff letting it balance between his fingers for a moment, "especially if those others happened to be the Mikaelsons," Marcel snickered, "a sentiment many share but only but a few can act upon."

"Are you speaking from experience?" she pointed a look at him and he smirked.

"You and I may be kindred spirits yet," Marcel grinned giving her a smile full of teeth and he let the staff drop between their feet. It landed between them like a straight line. A barrier.

Caroline passed it and stood in front of Marcel.

"We need to talk," she seriously said and Marcel Gerard nodded.


"At some point, we are definitely having a rematch," Marcel told her eagerly, "no fake quitting bullshit," he warned her and Caroline laughed.

"You think you can handle it?"

Marcel arched a brow at her as they walked into his personal space which he had located in what used to be the park's Orpheum Theatre.

Caroline let her eyes wander around as she did every time she came here. The whole place was screaming apocalypse now to her and given how she had been stranded in Purgatory for so long this felt surprising to her.

There was dirt everywhere along with dust, broken glass, scrap metal, and wood. Being here felt suffocating with the putrid smell wafting in every direction and with this eerie sensation of being out of time.

There was part of her that was in awe and another that cringed and wanted to take over and properly make this place functional and organize this mess but she pushed down the feeling. This was Marcel's game and she understood the message he wanted to give. It was all for show of course.

This place was meant to intimidate and give an advantage to everyone that trained and lurked here. Shadows and ruins always gave a foreboding sense that every predator knew how to use.

And foreboding was definitely a word to describe this place.

Everything surrounding her was in ruins. The Festival Hall, a replica of the original Theatre, or more likely what was left of it gave the sensation of a place haunted. It must have been splendid when it was thriving but now what the storms hadn't destroyed the vandals and the looters have.

Everything was falling apart and everything somehow was still standing.

The gears on the wall-sized clock were frozen in time. There was a chandelier that had survived and was covered in dust. The columns and the wooden beams were stained and you could still see the waterline of the flood. Muslin hung in tatters from the ceiling and the broken glass of the high arched windows was rattling as the breeze was whizzing in along with the soft light that leaked inside. The fabrics that hang from above were floating gently back and forth. It was the only sound that accompanied the silence that had replaced all that was once buzzing with life in this place.

Ironically the park felt deserted even now that most vampires came here to train. Marcel's crew had cleaned the space here too but it still gave a vibration of forlornness despite the renovations.

When it came to the Theatre Marcel had brought in some furniture and made himself comfortable here.

He had taken the Theatre as his domain. He had brought in a desk, some chairs, carpets. He also brought in an antique jukebox he had found here that didn't work but he seemed to like it either way.

Caroline turned her attention back to Marcel when he gave her a glass of bourbon and sat in the old armchair with the velvet back. He crossed his legs and slowly enjoyed his drink.

"I am listening," he simply said with a tilt of his glass at her.

Caroline stared at her drink and swallowed down a sigh. The path she was about to take would bring more conflict. Marcel was about to dive into full-blown war with the Originals. Specifically with Klaus. She didn't need to be a genius or to study him up close to know this.

He was building an army. Slowly. One only did this if he was about to go to war. His army wasn't a legion. A bunch of young vamps still training to become a viable challenge if any at that. It would take decades if not centuries for Marcel's vampires to rise into a potential threat. So he must have already have an ace in his sleeve. Davina was one but there had to be more. That was why Elijah pretended to care about the vampire community. He wanted to keep an eye on Marcel because when it came down to it Marcel was an actual threat.

She had seen this too. All the time she trained the newbie vampires she kept examining Marcel Gerard as he was also returning the favor.

She had seen his charm, his danger, his allure.

The Originals had done a brilliant job raising him. Klaus in particular. Marcel wasn't an Original but he was just as dangerous if not more. Because just like her he didn't count in any invulnerability provided by an Original indestructible bloodline. He knew that he had to rise to the occasion every single time. To rise above and beyond because he didn't have the luxury to fail.

People had to underestimate him in comparison with the Originals and that was their mistake. A mistake everyone did with her too.

However Marcel had risen to a seat of power. One Klaus snatched away from him. And Marcel wouldn't let that slide no matter how everyone pretended as if they were on a truce. If Marcel allowed Klaus to take all that was his then he admitted defeat and he didn't have that luxury.

After it was Klaus who had taught him defeat was not an option.

Marcel had time. Time and means probably.

He was a threat yes.

She could use a threat.

Especially now that she couldn't trust Klaus or Kol.

Not that she could trust Marcel Gerard but he knew New Orleans and she needed someone of his caliber in her corner. Even reluctantly. Even with the potential of turning against her or trying to use her to his advantage. He would try to manipulate her in the long run. She knew all that and since she knew she could use that to her advantage instead. She would do the same to him after all. Anything it would take to get to her goal she would do. Kol had taught her the same thing Klaus taught Marcel Gerald. Defeat was not an option.

Caroline decided to broach the subject directly this time. They had already played the cat and the mouse game and she could tell Marcel had something in common with her. He was always in for an honest challenge.

She couldn't declare fealty to Marcel and she couldn't easily outplay him right now. A tentative alliance could work, however.

For now. If she played her cards right.

Marcel seemed to be the underdog. She could relate.

He was an overachiever that despite the odds he liked to reach high. She could relate yes.

He also had a bone to pick with the Originals. She could relate with that one too.

She got up and sauntered close to him.

Marcel narrowed his eyes and watched her carefully as she handed him the drink he gave her. He cautiously took it.

"I am willing to give a shot, an honest one at that at working together," she said evenly without preamble.

Marcel maintained eye contact with her.

"Isn't this what we have been doing thus far Miss Forbes?"

Caroline sighed but resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him.

"Is this how we are going to do this now?"

Marcel laughed at her tone of exasperation.

"So you are fishing for a truce all of a sudden?" he clearly doubted. Amusement danced in his eyes.

"Let's say I am willing to work on our trust issues and commit myself into a partnership of sorts should we agree to terms we both feel comfortable with."

She kept her tone detached but she could already see the spark of interest starting to flicker in Marcel.

"Interesting," Marcel drawled, his eyes roaming her face searching for any hint of malignant intention, "And what brought this change in you all of the sudden?"

"Maybe it's your charm." Caroline gave him a sarcastic smile.

Marcel threw his head back and laughed before he gave her a pointed look.

"Maybe the charm of the Originals gave you more than you can chew?"

Her years in Purgatory had taught her patience but even so, she found herself counting backward to ten to avoid any scathing remarks.

"Please," she tossed back defiantly, "I have quite a bite thank you very much."

Marcel smirked.

"What terms would we be talking about?"

He was sounding mildly curious but Caroline knew she had caught him in the hook. All she had to do was pull.

Something bitter coiled inside her.

Like embers coming alive in the dark, she remembered Klaus' honeyed words. His lies and his truths.

"I don't want to hurt you…if anything I want to protect you…In another life, I would give you everything you asked of me."

She remembered his warnings about siding against him.

"In war, we must always choose sides, Caroline. This time I won't have the luxury of treating my enemies with soft gloves and…neither will you."

His longing and despair for her not to do this.

"The only thing I ask you is to not make me your enemy."

She remembered Kol's promise.

"You have my word, Caroline Forbes….Now and always."

Both feelings equally burned. Both pulled her in different directions and cut her in half.

Why?

Why should she feel guilty? Why should this feel like a betrayal?

Klaus' voice still echoed in her mind…in her heart.

"I don't want to lie to you, Caroline. It's the last thing I want."

She should have listened to Kol.

"Words are just that…just words Caroline. Words lie."

For just once why couldn't she just burn the good parts along with the bad without looking back? Without turning her heart to ash? Why did she have to feel this way? Why was it still so damn difficult?

Because she still cared. Because she could not just burn the part inside that still cared for Klaus and had grown to care for Kol. Destructively and stupidly so. With fierce loyalty, hope, and devotion.

She stared at Marcel and she knew this was her chance to back down. To turn away and leave.

She wouldn't.

Forbin's pendant that now hung around her neck burned equally strong.

"Before we get to that I think we should be honest with each other first," she kept her face carefully blank, "To get any possible misunderstandings out of the way before they arise."

Marcel's lopsided grin became wider.

"You first."

"What do you want to know?"

"Plenty," Marcel drawled, "But let's start with why you are here."

"Fine," Caroline shrugged, "I needed an emotional let out, stability and connections. Getting into the vampire community offered me that chance. I want to find my footing in a supernatural community and I am a vampire so here I am."

"Why not stick with the Originals?"

Caroline fixed him a hard glare.

"I am not their groupie if this is what you are asking and siding with them is a one-way ticket into becoming alienated by everyone but them," she recognized. Gerard would easily detect a lie so for now she would give him half truths and omissions. The score she had to settle with the Originals was personal.

"Kind of beats the purpose of wanting to find my place here," she kept talking weaving the truth into a comfortable semi honest pattern, "Besides siding with them comes with a price and while I can be a bitch…I am no one's bitch," she declared him, a hint of steel creeping inside her tone to go along with the warning she added next, "Not the Originals' or anyone else's. Try to remember that."

Marcel smirked.

"I am here to work with you, Marcel. So make no mistake," she stated locking her gaze with his before she went to the bar with the bottles to fix a vodka drink instead provoking Marcel's amusement while also giving him a tell to her preferences. A subtle way to open up. Harmless. "I do not work for you and I am not siding with you either."

Marcel's brow arched up. She had his full interest now.

"What are you doing here then?" he asked again probing deeper.

"You have young vampires coming here day in and day out," Caroline pointed out and enjoyed the strong taste of her drink, "These people need help not just to turn into your weapons against your feud with the Originals."

Marcel gave her a blinding smile full of teeth.

"What feud?" he played along finishing his drink before he started nursing the one she had rejected showing he wasn't afraid she would trick him and poison him, "We have turned a new page."

Caroline gave him a look.

"Seriously?" she snorted, "This is how you want to play this?"

The playful undercurrent between them shifted. The tension of distrust they had been harboring for weeks came to a head.

"Is this why Elijah brought you here then?" he asked her, gauging her response with eyes filled with menace underneath the pleasantries, "to spy on me and see where my loyalties lie?"

This time it was Caroline that beamed at him.

"Even if I was inclined to do that," she mused, "which I am not," she added, "it is not as if they do not know Marcel. Or as if you are even bothering to pretend otherwise."

Marcel leaned back in his chair. His eyes were x-raying her right now. He didn't bother to deny this. Why would he after all?

Caroline moved her glass from right to left, her gaze focusing on the clear liquid that sloshed inside the crystal.

"In the end, all these people here will be collateral damage," she mumbled bitterly feeling that she could relate. And something told her that Marcel could relate also. Maybe he had forgotten that during his reign but the return of the Originals must have reminded him exactly that. She had done her research. Marcel aimed to gain the respect of his kind. He knew what it meant to be under the heel of the Originals and how to rule and be ruled by fear.

"They are disposable along with all the bystanders that never signed for your war," Caroline furthered her point and gulped down the rest of her drink and disregarded the glass. She needed something stronger than alcohol. She needed blood. And something to tame her rage that just would not rest. "This is why I am here," she declared fearlessly, "I have been in their place more times I could count and I have paid the price," she paused and all traces of amusement died out before she bit out what she knew all too well, "And it sucks."

Marcel mirrored her. He finished the drink and pushed the glass aside. His elbows pushed against his knees and he bent over until he rested his head in his hands.

"Do you think I started all this?"

Caroline could smell his anger as his gaze burned through her. Toxic anger. Potent.

Caroline responded to his challenge without backing down.

"You are continuing it," she pressed, "it is the same."

Marcel turned thoughtful before he sat back and sighed.

"I know you think that I am no different than them and maybe I am not," he accepted, "they raised me after their own image after all. I didn't stand a chance. I was only a kid after all but in the end, I was their charity case and then their protégée and errand boy," he remembered bitterly, "part of their dysfunctional family," he spat out but then his gaze drifted away into memories Caroline could not share, "I do not know what would have been worse. To live and die as a slave or to be enslaved into their ties of horror."

Marcel rose and walked a few feet away from her. He turned his back at her and stared outside the broken windows. Into the desolate place that was left behind from the storm.

"You see the Originals have this amazing gift of attracting good decent people by their side," he told her before he turned around to face her again.

He gestured in her direction.

"People like you," he simply noted, "and they change them. They change you and you do not even see it coming Slowly. Piece by piece. And you can't deny that you knew who they are but their spell goes deep" Marcel dryly said, "it paralyzes your defenses until your core rots. Even if that was never their intention in the end they can't help it. They are poison."

Caroline stared at the older vampire's raptor gaze. So similar to Klaus'.

Marcel had tasted the poison and the spell did go deep in him. So deep it turned him into poison too. She could see it. She could feel it.

Just as she could feel it in herself whenever she stared in the mirror.

"Is this why you want them out of this city?" Caroline wondered, "or is it just because their poison still hurts?"

A muscle ticked in Marcel's jaw that clenched.

"My city."

Caroline chuckled at Marcel's territorial claim and at his way to evade the personal part of her question.

In the end, however, his response was awfully telling.

Of course, it was all about power. About control. About which monster would rule the world even if they first had to let it burn so as to reign in the ashes.

More so when this was a family affair of monsters and New Orleans was their playground.

"Your city right," she muttered shaking her head, "because this is what it all comes back to right?"

Marcel fixed her a hard stare.

"And you think that this city and the vampires you are trying to save from being collateral damage will prosper under The Originals' reign?"

"Oh, I know exactly who the Originals are," she assured him, her tone filled with disdain, "I have no delusions when it comes to them. But I have been here for some time now Marcel. I have done my homework. It is not as if you had been a benevolent… King."

She leveled him a knowing gaze full of irony and Marcel ran his tongue over his so white teeth.

"I have learned from my mistakes," he amended begrudgingly and Caroline's brow lifted in mock sympathy.

"This is why you keep repeating them?" she tossed back and Marcel's eyes turned to slits.

"Careful Forbes," he warned her, "this is not the way for us to get along."

"You want fake flattery then?" she sweetly provoked him but Marcel said nothing.

She felt the tide turning. Her body tensed and this time more prominently than any other she felt Klaus Mikaelson inside those dark eyes of his. Every lesson Klaus gave him lingered there along with the pain, the arrogance, the pride. The temper, the anger, the loneliness.

He was ambivalent. He craved loyalty just like his father and he hated weakness.

Things had changed. He used to be the King. He had gotten used to having people suck up to him and fear him. He was used to be the absolute power and to have all the control and Klaus took that away from him. Marcel would not forgive. He would not forget. And he hated that he now faced these new facets of reality and she was there to remind him exactly that. Because he had lost his crown for many reasons and not all related to the Originals. Many if not most were related to him. He would not make the same mistakes again and Caroline could tell that should she prove to be a mistake he would rip her heart out just as easily as Klaus would with his enemies.

She was treading a thin line. Klaus had a soft spot where she was concerned as did Kol. Elijah knew that all too well so he went along with his brothers. Despite their lies, she knew her life was not in immediate danger with them.

She couldn't say the same where Marcel Gerard was concerned and she had already approached his protégé, Davina.

Marcel stood there and maintained their eye contact evenly. In the same way, she was examining all facets of his personality he was doing the same with hers.

It was all or nothing then. Either allies or enemies.

She had to get their animosity out of the way before they ended in any kind of an agreement and there was only one way to do that.

Face their distrust and dislike with the truth.

They could both agree they disliked each other and they both could agree on their trust issues but at least they could be honest about it.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"You have proclaimed yourself the King," Caroline remarked breaking the silence deciding that she would not hold back.

Kol had taught her manipulation but she would go for the Caroline Forbes approach now. Blunt and straightforward, no brain to mouth filter needed.

"And many accept you as one," she acknowledged and then smirked, "so as one your highness you should know that your kingdom is not the city itself by the people in it. And you should be here to protect these people and not sacrifice them," she lectured him before she took in a deep breath and decided to make it personal and direct her attention where she knew Marcel would feel it the most. She could be useful to him and she could make him see that but for that to happen she had to show him that her insight was on point. And it was. "Klaus regards you as his son. If he didn't he would have taken you out by now," she simply pointed out. "So in truth, you are using this city as a playfield for your family issues and games," she accused him, "both of you do."

Marcel inclined his head.

He would be just upfront with her. Finally.

"Very perceptive," he applauded her shrewdness without denying that this was indeed after all a family matter before he continued, "and judgmental," he chuckled amused, "but misguided," his eyes roamed over her in contemplation and somewhat condescendingly, "you have been here only for a few months Caroline and you think you can lecture me about my city?" he scowled pointing at her hypocrisy and ignorance, "what do you know about New Orleans? It is not your home. You think you can judge me about the city I raised from the ashes the Originals left behind," he exhaled, his features turning to stone, "I devoted centuries in this place. In the people here," he clarified, trying to make her see that he actually did care for the people and not just for the title or the crown or simply the city without its soul, "and yes I have made grave mistakes," he admitted humbly for the first time ever since she had met him, "that I pay now and for good reason but it has never been a game for me. Not for me," he intoned every word, "it is Klaus that likes to play games and if you knew him you would know this."

Caroline took in a deep breath knowing it would get trapped in her lungs. She didn't want to use her relationship with Klaus to make a breakthrough with Marcel. She somehow knew that despite it all it could very well come down to it and it would be a betrayal. She was capable of it and she intended to do it but she didn't want to follow that path. It hurt. Deep down it hurt.

Because she did know Klaus Mikaelson. She knew the bad parts. But she also knew the good parts. The good parts she couldn't burn no matter how much she tried.

"I know," she whispered and straightened her shoulders. She saw the flash or recognition Marcel showed at the fleeting emotion she displayed but she pushed through the thorn that had wedged in her heart and targeted the knowledge she had gathered when it came to Marcel Gerard instead. He wouldn't turn this against her. Klaus had taught him well. Too well. But two could play this game. "As I can also see that for a person that claims that this is not a game you play it quite effortlessly."

Marcel gave her a feral grin.

"It takes one to know one obviously," he noticed wickedly, and then went straight for the heart.

"You remind me of him, Caroline."

Caroline tensed and swallowed down feeling something hot run her veins. Something she used to fear for a long time but now she would never give up.

Marcel didn't have to say who he was. They both knew after all Klaus' shadow existed between them. Marcel resembled him just as much. He was just as smart and perceptive as Klaus. Enough to see him inside her too. And his statement was addressed with sincerity and confidence. It was meant to hit the mark and hurt.

He wasn't lying. This was what he saw. This was who she reminded him of.

Klaus' words from the past echoed in the back of her mind.

"We are the same, Caroline"

And of course, someone who knew Klaus as well as Marcel knew him could also see that too. A long time ago in Purgatory Kol had also told her just as much too.

Any reasonable person would be offended by such an assumption. She should deny this.

Only she couldn't.

More so she wouldn't.

The truth ran in her blood now just as it did when she had bloodshared with Klaus.

She was done fighting against the current.

There were parts of her that reflected him. Parts of him that were hers. They were long before she had come to terms with this reality. Long before she found safety and refuge in the simple fact that Klaus and she could be the same. He just had a thousand years of a head start compared to her. She'd get there.

And no matter the fallout between them all that they were and could be would always creep in their shadows and their light.

She could be just as dangerous as Klaus Mikaelson and his son could see it and feel it.

Good.

But Marcel Gerard would be in for a surprise because she was still her own person. Same….but different.

Her whole demeanor changed.

She could very well inspire terror without channeling Klaus Mikaelson. But if doing so could be effective then she would.

She returned Marcel's grin with one of her own. One that must have resembled Klaus' because she saw Marcel's recognition and the way he was caught off guard.

He shouldn't be so unsettled though. After all, he had just admitted that she reminded him of his sire.

So she took his reminder at heart and accepted it. Fully.

Did she remind Klaus' son of his father?

Well….

"Good," she let iron creep in that simple word she spelled out in honey and velvet. One word. Both to be a praise and a threat.

This would not be her weakness as Marcel intended. This would be her strength, her double edge sword to use against those that aimed to use it against her. When time would come she would use it against Klaus himself too.

With deliberate slowness, she channeled that emotion and let it show. A threat enveloped in silk. Caramel notes each a poison, each a warning for Marcel to take to heart.

"Remember this next time and think twice before playing your games with me."

Marcel now regarded her with renewed interest. Enough for her to know that he would accept the truce between them and more so he would welcome an alliance because he needed someone like her by his side against the Originals. Against Klaus himself. Sometimes you fought fire only with fire.

Whatever Marcel was about to say next however was interrupted abruptly.

Both of them tensed.

It wasn't any noise or anything in particular that made their senses scream danger.

It was the primordial silence accompanied by that imperceptible swift of the air.

Marcel's gaze darkened, veins appeared under his eyes just as Caroline unsheathed the blade she now always carried with her.

They looked at each other. Eyes widening in alarm.

"Something-" she began, keeping her voice so low that only Marcel could hear it.

"Is not right," Marcel finished her phrase in the same volume and their gazes met, eyes widening in horror as the realization hit them.

It shimmered in the air. The danger. The charged air. They could feel it. The smell, the tension, the seconds before-

Marcel and Caroline ran outside at vampire speed.

Every second counted. Every moment mattered. They ran along with the wind, they battled time, they yelled at every vampire to take cover. To run.

Only it was too late.

The blast of the explosion shot them away like they were nothing but flies.

The wave of destruction spread like wildfire. Light, flame, and smoke reached the skies burning through everything.