Author's note: Secrets unravel as we barrel towards the conclusion. Four more Saturdays after today! Thank you for your support.

Part Eleven: better than that

There have been rare moments in his life where he is completely and truly baffled (a state of being that he loathes; he hates the idea of not knowing, of control sliding through his fingers).

This is one of those moments.

He stands on the beach, the salt air whipping around him. He can smell it just as he can hear the waves moving rapidly towards the shore; both a balm to any battered soul. His shoes have sunk into the sand, granules pouring and pressing uncomfortably against his skin. In any other moment, he would bulk at the sensation but right now all of his attention is on the tableau before him.

She's looking at him, eyes impossibly wide and her mouth agape. He traces the lines of her arms to fingers that curl into the shirt of a man he cannot place (a fact that irks him because he clearly means something to her). He tilts his head just so, his mind frantically trying to put together all the pieces but finding that nothing fits as it should.

He is utterly lost on a beach.

"How…" Bonnie is apparently putting together a puzzle of her own.

Her eyes move from his to the man that is seemingly her lifeline. He is gripping her, holding her steady and for the briefest of moments Klaus thinks he would very much like to rip her from his arms. Bonnie is his - not in the same way that she belongs to this man of course, but Klaus does not share on any level.

Finally, she seemingly tosses aside her confusion (her anger) and takes a deep breath. "You are not supposed to be here," she tells him evenly. She moves slightly, and is reluctant to let go of her hero (Klaus now wants to eviscerate him just because he can). When she walks, there is purpose to it and sand flies between them. "You couldn't leave well enough alone, could you?" There is something in her eyes, something he thinks he recognizes. But before he can place it, the beach falls away and they are back in the cabin on the bayou

The sudden shift leaves Klaus once again scrambling to distinguish between reality and magic. In the time it takes to right himself, Bonnie has pulled back to a corner of the room, shoving herself off the floor with such speed he almost reaches out for her as if it is a reflex. Instead, they just stand there, eyeing one another.

Once he has replayed the last few moments in his head (he thinks he can still feel the uncomfortableness of sand in his shoes), Klaus takes a deep breath. "Explain yourself."

"I don't have to," she counters immediately and he sees this for what it is. She is on the defensive. She is going to lash out at him like a wounded animal desperate to hold onto life in its dying moments.

He is not going to show her any mercy.

"True," he begins. "But I will find out one way or another. I could simply pull it out of you - a bit painful for the both of us but in the end, I would have my way. Or if I want to save myself the wrath of your magic, I can just call my sister. I have a feeling once I describe that…" He flicks his finger towards the stone that has come to rest between her breasts. Instinctively, her fingers cover it just as he knew they would. "...and she will tell me just what it is. The first method uses valuable resources we will need for the fight ahead and the second uses valuable time. You choose which one you would rather waste."

Her fingers flatten out over the necklace now, pressing against her chest instead of holding onto the stone like it is a lifeline (for all he knows, it very well is). She appears to be considering her options and it is only when she sighs that he realizes he has her. He almost smiles in triumph but holds back because he knows her surrender could be conditional. It is not easy for him to remain standing there passively, especially in the face of a challenge, but somehow he is able to do so as she once again twists her fingers so that now she is holding the stone between them.

"This is a conduit," she says, rubbing a thumb over it. She looks from the necklace to him. He can practically see her mind filtering through what to tell him and what to hold back. "It allows the user to contact someone…" Her eyebrows furrow a little and he reads a great deal more into that than she no doubt wants him to. "...they miss."

Klaus can read between the gaps she is leaving. "The dead," he concludes. "It allows you to contact the dead." He may not possess magic but he knows that it is brilliant in filling in the gaps. There are many ways to contact someone if they are on the other side of the world - there are precious few if they are on the wrong side of living. He is looking at one. It seems such a simple thing to hold so much power (but then again, he had been ready to give into total bloodlust a few nights ago all because he had held an old rooster claw).

She nods her head and he knows she doesn't want him to ask the next question.

Which is exactly why he asks it.

"Who is he?"

Bonnie's eyes flare to life, a mixture of pain and loathing. He is digging at a very open wound, inflicting damage with simple questions. He finds that the joy of it is more hollow than he wants it to be. But he doesn't back down. They can stand there all night if she wants them too. He may want to push at her buttons but he also wants to know.

She lets the necklace fall back against her skin one last time, her attention turned solely to the conversation now. She takes a deep breath. "He was someone I loved," she says simply, the words flat in the air between them.

"I can see that," he retorts immediately. The way she had held him, the way he had looked at her - love is one of the easiest emotions to see (but in his experience, the hardest one to manage). "Does this Prince Charming have a name?"

"He does."

He hates that she is being deliberately obtuse. She wants to hold onto her secrets and he desperately wants to pry them from her. He thinks there is an easy way to do so. He can give a little and receive so much in return. He has been alive long enough to know that sometimes in torture, you have to sweeten the pain, show understanding, coax them to the their inevitable end.

He has his own story to tell after all (one that she will understand). But the mere thought of opening himself up like that has him retreating.

And thus their stalemate.

Bonnie's arms finally fall back to her sides, no doubt convinced that he is not going to physically attack her. Her face still wears her emotions and the moment he sees the stark grief come across it, his breath catches.

In the end, she doesn't need him to push. She tips herself over that particular edge all on her own.

"Enzo," she says quietly enough that he is glad of his preternatural senses. Her eyes close for a moment. "His name was Enzo…"

It is not a name that holds any significance to Klaus. He wishes it had in a way. He wishes he could take that name and connect to memory of his own. He wishes he could know just who it was that captured the attention of the mighty Bonnie Bennett. But then again, he remembers a time where she had chosen to date the Gilbert boy. It is entirely possible that she has once again given little thought to her worth.

He is afraid to say too much. She is talking on her own. The wrong pithy comment could send her back to silence and he sincerely doubted he could cajole her once more (at least, not without significant physical damage to his person).

"I loved him. Really loved him," she tells him.

He can almost see the purity of her words. He thinks that is the difference between the two of them. They might both be powerful beings but where he tends to fight against love, she no doubt seeks it out. If he had been more like her, maybe he would not have wasted the precious time he had when it had come to love.

(he would not repeat that mistake when he is given his second chance)

"He took a part of me with him when he went." Bonnie finally gives up the relative safety of her corner. She moves with a sense of urgency; perhaps in an attempt to expel the grief that has settled over her. He sees it plain as day (it is easy for him to recognize after all). "I told you that I was seeking new magic, new ways to express myself. But that journey of self discovery was driven by one thing - a way to get him back."

"Ah." Even that simple word falling from his lips feels like an intrusion. But he finally understands why she so easily let herself be led down the garden path. He had thought an experienced witch like her would know the dangers of an unknown source of magic. But she hadn't been thinking straight. She had let the grief be her guide and it had delivered her into the hands of Lavinia. Their foe had nurtured her pain, eaten up and twisted it until Bonnie had been tied to her.

Klaus is furious. He knows his own highs and lows. He thinks of himself at the worst of it and sees weakness that could be exploited. He is going to relish destroying Lavinia now. He is going to make sure she understands what it is like to be ripped to pieces slowly. His punishment is physical, a poor replacement for the anguish he understands in Bonnie but he knows that there is no way to ever properly recreate that. It will have to do.

Her eyes are glassy. She is fighting tears and there is a part of him that wants to tell her to give into them. She knows him too well, he reasons. She is afraid that someday he will turn them back on her and he can't be entirely sure that he won't. He has always played to win, even if his methods are entirely unfair.

She taps her fingers against the stone. "This is the closest I got. And I decided that I would take what I can get. I wish I could say that I totally regret it." There is bitter laughter. "But I can't. I know I have dug myself into one hell of a hole but I have a part of him still."

"How did it happen?" He shouldn't ask that but he does anyway.

Surprisingly, she answers. "He had his heart ripped out."

Klaus takes it in. A sudden violent end - her love literally ripped from her. He shifts uncomfortably at the similarities, reliving a memory he wishes he could tuck away in the recesses of his mind. When a realization presents itself, he embraces it as a distraction instead. He looks back at her. "Wolf or vampire?"

She stops in her tracks, turning towards him fully and there is a subtle shift in the room. The moment (the one she doesn't even understand they are having) is falling away. She eyes him warily. "Vampire."

There is a look on his face, a mixture of surprise and glee (and if he is being honest with himself, which he rarely is, enough jealousy to put him on edge). "A vampire?" he begins. "I have to confess that I never saw you as one who would willingly cavort with a vampire. I would have thought you considered it beneath you."

Bonnie turns to stone in front of him and for the first time since she had tossed them both from that beach, he feels magic once again drift around him in a not so subtle warning. "You can leave now," she tells him.

Surprising both of them, he does.

X

She waits until she hears the front door slap shut before she exhales the breath she has been holding.

Bonnie had been expecting him to turn around and call off his retreat. She had braced herself for more questions, more carefully chosen barbs. He finds it funny - her loving a vampire. She will not let him reduce what she had with Enzo to a series of off the cuff remarks and poorly timed jokes. He might think she needs to conserve her magic for the battle ahead but she is more than willing to expel a little at his expense.

Thankfully, he seems to have wandered off.

She moves carefully to glance out the window to the darkened woods below. She can't see any trace of him and she likes it better that way. She feels raw right now and she knows why. She has scrapped over her insides and told him things that he had no right to know. He had caught her at the perfect time. She had already cracked open enough to make her weak - and for a moment, she had seen something in him that made her think he would understand.

(there had been a look in his eyes, a pain mirrored...)

She has been foolish, handing him ammunition to punish her with. Maybe he will wait until this is over and Lavania lays dead at his feet. Maybe he will give her until he has gotten his payment in return. Or maybe he will throw out some casual comment designed to cut into her over breakfast.

Part of her wants to run rather than find out.

This has been a long time coming, she reflects. Not Klaus of course - but anyone getting to the bottom of what she has been doing. She has always done her best to keep this to herself. It is far too personal and intimate to share with anyone. At first, she had been so cautious, carefully choosing when and where she would allow herself a few precious moments with him. But as things progressed (and as her life spiraled closer and closer to Lavinia's desired end), she had gotten sloppy (the last few minutes prove that point perfectly). She knows that part of it is an addiction. As things around her go to hell, she is safe in the pocket she has created for them. In so many ways, it is real to her - and she is desperate to protect it.

Bonnie sinks down so she is once again on the floor. Her legs are sprawled out in front of her, one settling over the circle she had traced her symbols in. She lets out a cry, perhaps of frustration, perhaps of desperation and then swipes at the last traces of her secret with her hand.

If only Klaus hadn't pressed his mouth to her neck, if only she hadn't found herself standing in that moment with Enzo instead of the present with Klaus. There had been nothing romantic about what Klaus almost did. If he had wanted to bite her, it was because he knew there was power in her blood. Nothing more. But yet, she had let her wires get crossed and suddenly she was in front of Enzo again, looking up at him with a sense of trust she had never given anyone else. If only Klaus had kept his fangs to himself - she would have been able to hold off until she had been free and clear of New Orleans. This is all coming to an end soon and Klaus has made her play a card she has never intended to show.

She laughs now, the sound hollow of course. There is nothing funny about where she stands (sits). As easily as it seems to fit, she knows she can't blame Klaus. She has brought herself to this, choosing to live her life both here and in those snippets she can get with Enzo. What she is doing - at her core she understands that it is not sustainable but she just can't leave him there. No matter how many times he tells her to. He wants her to move on, she is stuck right where she is.

Maybe this is good. Maybe having someone catch her in the act will help in the long run. It would have been so much better had it been anyone but Klaus, of course. She is preprogrammed to dig her heels in around him. She is already stubbornly holding onto something she shouldn't. If he is the one to try and push her to let go, she may just grip all that tighter to spite him. Even knowing that as she sits in her ruins, she can't promise herself that in the moment she will act as she should.

If only she had dealt with her grief in a proper way. If only she had gone back to Mystic Falls when Caroline had called her well over a year ago to find her in tears. Her friend had asked (no begged) her to come home. After all, she recognizes and understands that kind of grief all too well. Caroline would have taken care of her (they could have taken care of each other). She could have been safe in Caroline's arms. She could have helped Caroline build that school of hers, even been there to help the next generation of witches understand who they were (and break a cycle that had plagued her).

But it had not been enough.

After everything, all the danger she had pulled herself out from underneath, Bonnie had thought she deserved more. She had deserved to have Enzo with her. To feel his mouth on hers, to hear his voice rumble in her ear. Despite knowing that life is more a series of highs and lows instead of happy endings, Bonnie had felt cheated and therefore set out to right those perceived wrongs.

Now look at her.

She is consoling herself on a cabin floor in the insect infested bayou. She is inches away from losing herself and relying on someone she has proclaimed over and over to hate to save her from it. And despite wanting to fight tooth and nail to claim the opposite, she has always known that what she has with Enzo (those stolen moments) are not real. This, with Lavinia breathing down her neck and Klaus laughing gleefully nearby, is her reality.

Angrily, she rips at the necklace. The frayed leather cord gives away easily.

X

For the first time in a long time, Klaus thinks of Camille.

He avoids the idealized version of her - that angelic version that he has created in his head in his darkest moments. Instead he thinks of their cautious first conversation, the way she had looked at him in fear as he compelled that emotion from her. She had slapped him once, an act that usually signalled death. Their beginning had been far from ideal but their end…

...it had come far too quickly.

He can't relive her death. Instead he allows himself to march through their procession, embracing the good and never glossing over the bad. He stops just short of those final painful moments. He wants her back - all of her. Everything that makes her who she is. He has been accused (mainly by his brother) of only coveting the myth he has made her out to be. That is simply not true. While he has used her kind words and soft voice to pull himself out of black holes, he wants the version of her who had hated him enough to risk her own life when she brought her hand across his cheek. If she comes back with no memory of them, he will still be overjoyed. He will then, of course, work to win her back but he does not want Camille alive once more simply to soothe his wounds.

She deserves to live.

He is standing on the edge of the dock by the time he pulls himself free from the memories. He shifts his weight, part of him wondering if it is about to crumble beneath his wait and spill him into the swamp with the alligators. He then glances over his shoulder at the cabin and suspects Bonnie is right where he left her, holed up in her room, reliving their conversation. He can't help but do the same.

He understands so much now. About her, about why he found her the way he had. That first night when he had found her sprawled out in the dirt, she hadn't been the same Bonnie he remembered. It had taken time for him to even see a hint of the same fire he had once been able to stoke in her. There had been something about her - something broken.

Now that he knows just what that is, he should use it to his advantage. After all, he had promised her prone form the first night that he would repay her for how she had treated him over the years. But he finds that he feels guilt instead of excitement. Even those few words he had thrown at her didn't set well.

Because he gets it.

He not only understands all the steps that have brought her to where she is now; he can say with absolute certainty that he would have taken the exact same path if their situations were reversed. As it is, his forging his own way towards a similar goal.

It is too bad that she had crossed paths with Lavinia at just the wrong time. The pain must have been fresh to cloud her normally stoic judgement. He remembers that period in his life, when the pain had been so overwhelming he could hardly think. If it had not been for his daughter…

...well, thankfully, he will never have to consider the worst possible conclusions.

(he had been more than on the nose when he called her Hope)

Klaus furrows his brow, thinking of that stone. Such a benign thing. No wonder Ambrose had wanted to barter with it (oh well, he can't barter for anything anymore). There is a part of him that wants to go back the way he came, to move up the stairs with the authority he knows he can have over her. He can take it from her. She will fight but he will win (or if he simply told her why she might give it to him; he quickly dismisses that idea - it is one thing to hear her grief, it is another to share his own).

In the end, he and Camille can stand in their own version of Jackson Square. Just the two of them (as it had been for him for a brief moment that first night). They could talk art, they could just stand there. He doesn't care what they do - as long as they do it together. He lets himself picture it for a moment or two, the image washing over him and leaving him feeling warm. But hollow in some respect. As much as he wants to see her (to feel her skin beneath his hands), he has a sense that the world he would build for them would be only slightly more real than the dreams she invades.

He doesn't want that. It is not enough and he is not going to settle. He feels pity for Bonnie, having to settle for something that is not quite up to par with the reality of what she has lost. She must be truly desperate to pretend that is enough (she had confessed to just as much, although she hadn't quite used those words).

Something shifts in the water in front of him, tearing him out of his thoughts. For a moment, he watches as an alligator glides by, paying him little attention. He lets out a short laugh, realizing he hadn't been far off in his earlier prediction. He spends longer than he should watching the damn thing as it navigates the swamp with the ease of a predator (he likes to think he recognizes such an action but he doesn't want anyone laughing at him for feeling kinship with an alligator of all things).

Then it hits him.

He probably has been working on the thought for the last few minutes. It works its way from his subconscious and then crashes into him with such force that he actually places a hand on his chest as if he expects to be knocked back on his ass.

He doesn't give it time to settle. Instead he turns on his heels and moves quickly, retreating back the way he came. There is nothing subtle about his ascent up the stairs this time. She will hear him coming and he doesn't mind that. In fact, he hopes that she is aware and that she is ready to answer to him.

Klaus throws open the bedroom door once more. He finds her sitting on the floor, looking deflated. She tips her head slightly to look up at him and then perhaps upon seeing the wildness in his eyes, she shifts. Her features tighten and she pulls herself to her feet. She steps slightly away from the bed, eyeing him with the correct amount of caution to leave him satisfied.

"Why didn't you bring him back?"

For a moment her face cycles through confusion and then pain. "Who?"

"Oh come now," he scoffs. "Your vampire lover. Enzo, is it? Why didn't you bring him back?" He says each word with enough bite to ensure that she cannot wiggle out of an answer.

Nonetheless, she tries anyway. She shakes her head, her posture slipping into something more defensive. For good measure, she even crosses her arms over her chest. "That is none of your damn business." She is fighting against the inevitable and is quick to double down. "Look, before, you caught me in something so personal that I couldn't help but tell you the truth about him. But you are not going to turn him into a stick to hit me with. He deserves better than that."

Klaus nods his head. "Oh I agree." He sees a subtle hint of surprise in her eyes. "You love him - because of that he deserves better. He deserves to be alive. Yet he isn't." He feels a hint of panic begin to seep in, twisting with his anger and threatening to push him in a direction he doesn't want to go. Not until he knows he has no other choice but to. "Why, Bonnie? Why didn't you bring him back?"

She trembles just a little and he knows the answer (not just to this one but the one he must follow it with). That fact has to be on his face because she gives in. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't bring him back."

His panic flares up now. He nods his head as if that will help him understand where that leaves them. Still, he has to hear it. "Can you bring anyone back?"

The time it takes her to answer seems longer to him than it really is. The silence stretches out and he envisions ripping her tongue from her mouth so he can claim the words for himself.

"No," she finally admits. "No, I can't."