The next two chapters jump back and forth from the present to the past.
2011
He knocked back the tasteless liquor and poured out a second glass. The bottle held a stronger appeal, but he could already feel Finn's inquisitive glances and he felt no desire to explain the truth to his oldest brother. He wanted to get drunk, so drunk that he couldn't remember his own name. After that he would learn what he needed to know of the new century and move on, leaving all of them behind.
He tried to tune into what Elijah was saying, but the bottom of his kept his attention; he particularly enjoyed finding it at the end of each drink.
The voices of his siblings floated in the air, devoid of meaning until a single word pierced his mind.
His neck twisted around as he leveled a dark glare on his sister.
"We're leaving you, Nik," Rebekah crushed shards of glass beneath her heels. "Right after I find that doppelganger wench, then you will be alone; always and forever."
Klaus leapt to his feet, enraged by Rebekah's words, but he didn't listen to the reply. The threats were always the same anyway: 'do the thing I don't agree with and I'll make you regret it'.
He suspected Elijah's reply but Klaus because for a moment he was silent.
Another doppelganger lived. Could she be the same one? Did it matter if she was? She wouldn't know him yet, and he had already failed her once. The only possible thing he could do was attempt to stop her from going back, but if he did that then she would have never come into his life in the first place and he would lack the motivation he had to save her.
Provided this doppelganger was his doppelganger.
Why didn't he ask her when she had come from?
He needed answers. He needed to know what had happened to her. What had happened to his Elena?
He was opening his mouth to ask that very question when the door opened. He turned with his family and felt the blood rush from his face.
"Mother?" He breathed.
She ignored the majority of her children, looking beyond them to Klaus who steadfastly avoided her gaze. She strode through them with the same no nonsense attitude as if she had seen them only yesterday and not a thousand years ago.
"Look at me," she commanded with the authority of a mother, lifting her chin as he listened. "Do you know why I am here?"
He saw tears shimmer in Klaus' eyes; his voice shook with vulnerability.
"You're here to kill me."
"Niklaus," she sighed, "you are my son and I am here to forgive you." She turned around to face the rest of her children. "I want us to be a family again."
"I guess I don't need to ask if you're sure he's gonna wake up," Matt braced his shoulders against the wall. "You're a vampire."
"I'm an idiot," she swiped at her wet cheek. "Three supernatural species rolled into one and I froze…" she shook her head, disgusted with herself, "… I froze."
She dropped the knife and slumped, sliding to the floor. Ninety-seven years she had waited to see her family again and what had she done? She nearly lost one of them because of her own stupidity.
"How could I forget his ring?" She drew her knees to her chest and buried her face in her hands, muttering incoherent curses under her breath.
Matt hesitated a moment. She was a vampire, and by her own admission two other things as well – one of them had to be doppelganger – but she was still his friend. That hadn't changed.
"He's your family, Elena," he crossed the hall, sliding down the wall beside her. "It's normal to panic when it's someone you love."
"I can't lose any more family, Matt," she spoke through the rising pressure in her throat.
"Hey," he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, urging her head to his shoulder, "Jeremy and Mr. Saltzman both have rings to bring them back from most of the threats in this town."
"It's not just them," she sniffled, tugging on her hair, "it's Caroline and Bonnie, and Stefan and Damon, and you. And there's Thierry and Marcel, and Kol if I can ever find him again."
"We'll do our best to keep you from losing us," he rubbed her upper arm. His eyes trained on the wall paper; in the dark the floral design resembled looming silhouettes. "Elena?"
"Yeah?" She twisted her pyrite ring.
"How did you become a vampire?" He let go so he could turn and face her. "And who are Kol, Marcel and Thierry?"
Elena straightened her legs and met his eyes in the gloom. "I'll tell you," she bit her lip, "but you can't breathe a word of it to Stefan or Damon."
"You think of them as family, but you don't trust them?" Matt frowned, tilting his head.
She shrugged.
"It's not that I don't trust them. I just don't trust Stefan not to tell Damon, and I don't trust Damon not to let it slip to Klaus, or you know…" a gleam entered her eyes, "… gloat about Klaus being unable to make any more hybrids."
"Okay…" he drew out the word, uncertainty in his tone, but willing to keep her secret. "So who's Marcel?"
"My friend…" she pursed her lips. "Also Rebekah's ex and kind of Klaus' son… adopted."
"Thierry?" He frowned.
"My son," she smirked. She could see the questions blazing in his eyes, but he held them in.
"Kol?" He leaned back, wary of her answer.
"My… friend," she chewed her bottom lip. If Rebekah hadn't walked in on Christmas Eve would she have had a different label for him? "He's also Klaus' little brother."
She held out her hand before he could interrupt and hurried to explain how she knew them all.
"When we went to New Orleans I was gone a lot longer than three days."
1914
'What' and 'if': two of the most unthreatening words to ever exist. They were both so innocent, but when put together they possessed the power to haunt.
She was certain the rest of her short life would be haunted by those two little words.
What if she had never told Kol the truth?
What if the brothers had come to an understanding?
What if she hadn't opened the door?
What if nobody found Thierry?
She shook her thoughts away before they could consume her and moved back to the front door. She pounded on the wood, rapped on the glass and screamed.
She screamed until her voice was hoarse.
"That won't do you any good."
Elena drew in a shaking breath and lowered her fist so could slide to the floor, taking the pressure off her trembling legs. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away. She wouldn't let her see the devastation; she still had a shred of dignity left.
"What do you want?" Her voice crackled over the words. The sound was almost enough to summon a wave of tears.
"I didn't want you here," Mary Alice spat. "I didn't think Klaus would put you in here." She crossed her arms and glared down at Elena. The fire in her eyes suggested that she wanted nothing more than to strangle the brunette.
"You…" Elena breathed, using the door to stand up. "You told Klaus about me?"
"And that you've been using glamour spells to sneak around right under his nose," she took a step forward. The cameo at her throat caught Elena's eyes. "I sent him a letter telling him where to find you," her eyes hardened, "and who was hiding you."
Elena resisted the urge to press her body into the door as the blonde advanced. She forced a strength she didn't feel into her voice.
"Why would you do that?" She squared her shoulders. "Do you have any idea what he's gonna do to me?"
"He wants you for some ritual," she shrugged, waving off the brunette's question.
"He wants to kill me," Elena hissed, stepping closer, "Klaus wants to drain every drop of blood from my body. By helping him you've condemned me to death, so I'm gonna ask again: why? What justifies murder to you?"
"I didn't know he'd kill you," she shook her head. "I just wanted to make you and Kol suffer. He left me in here to rot and you…" her hand gripped Elena's arms, "… you stole his affections!"
Elena gasped as she was shoved against the door. She had never been a cruel person, nor was she particularly vindictive, but the blonde witch had practically signed her death certificate over petty jealousy – jealousy that had no foundation before her imprisonment.
Her eyes went cold as she straightened up.
"He doesn't love you," she inhaled a calming breath, "he never loved you. From the very beginning he was using you. You," she dragged her eyes over the woman's frame, "Mary Alice Claire, were only ever a means to an end. Any affection I took from him was never yours."
Elena shook her head and walked round the table in the foyer. She wanted nothing more than to pick up the crystal vase and throw it against the door, or the witch's head.
"He doesn't care about me like that," she gripped the table.
"Oh, please," Mary Alice scoffed, "he's in love with you."
"He's not," she felt like crying again; they hadn't known each other long enough for that. What if did love her? What if he had thought of her as more than a friend?
"I'd say he is," a voice drew their attention to the stairs.
Elena twisted to look at the newcomer. She wore a nightdress that fell to the middle of her calves and a pale pink robe drawn tight around her trim waist.
"Do you know who I am?" She tucked her blonde hair behind her ear and approached Elena, glancing at the gold ring on her hand. A slow smile spread over her lips when the brunette gave a hesitant nod.
"You're Freya?" Her confidence grew with the reassuring nod. "You're one of Kol's witch friends."
"Yes," she nodded, holding out her hand, "come with me."
Elena frowned, glancing over her shoulder. "But the door…?"
"You're not getting out the door," Mary Alice rolled her eyes, "nobody is."
"Ignore her," Freya sighed, "she's angry, bitter and jealous."
"And telling the truth," Mary Alice called after them.
Elena ignored her and followed the other witch into the empty kitchen.
2011
Rules: he hadn't lived with rules in centuries; Elijah's didn't count.
All of mother's rules boiled down to one: no killing.
That worked well for him. Murdering his brothers was literally impossible. However, roughing him up a bit – or a lot – was doable, not to mention enjoyable.
The sight of a frame breaking over his head brought a tight smile to his lips.
"Was that necessary?" Elijah brushed dust from his sleeves and glanced at the floor. His body had struck the walls and shelves in several places. "Are we even now?"
"Not even close," he threw the words at him. Then he threw Elijah, watching with fascination as he crashed into a desk.
Elijah got to his feet, catching Kol's fist before he could make contact, twisting until he heard a crack. He spun, pinning his brother to the last undamaged shelf.
"Your anger will not change the past," he worked his jaw, feeling the break heal. "Let it go, and move on."
"Let it go?" Kol whispered, shoving Elijah's chest. His tone turned dangerous and icily cold. "Let it go? How am I meant to let it go?" He gritted his teeth. "What happened to her?"
Something flashed in Elijah's eyes, but he shook his head and relinquished his hold. He stepped back, repeating his plea.
"You helped him dagger me, and likely played a part in what happened to her," this time he recognized the guilt as it flickered through Elijah's gaze. He glowered at him. "What happened to her?"
"You don't want to know," he sighed at the same time Klaus chimed in from the door.
"She died," he leaned on the frame of the door, "she killed herself in the Fauline cottage…" he nodded to the mess of books and dust on the floor. "Clean this up and stay away from the new doppelganger."
Kol turned his burning eyes on Elijah. Her lively gaze swam in his mind; even at her most vulnerable she had never been suicidal. The disbelief must have shown on his face.
"She used a knife," Elijah breathed, the scene played out before his eyes, "plunging it through her heart. She was dead before I could reach her."
1914
Fetch the doppelganger, he had said. Sometimes Elijah wondered if his brother remembered that he was not the oldest. He wanted to say no. he wanted to give the strange outspoken woman a chance at life, but he would not repeat his mistakes with Katerina. He swore a vow: family above all.
He supposed he could have said no. He could have made the choice to learn what circumstance had led Kol – the wildest of the family – to protect her. Part of him wanted to know the nature of their relationship, and why Kol had revealed everything to her; it had to have been Kol.
He doubted Kol had chosen to protect her just to anger Klaus.
He could have said no. He could have betrayed his brother and let the woman escape, but if he said no he would have been in the same position as Kol.
He stared up at the two storey cottage. Every few seconds his eyes would dart to the doll head on the fence; its unseeing gaze was unnerving. It stared into his very soul to accuse him of every heinous act he had committed and remind him that it was he and not the young Petrova who should be locked up.
His head tilted to the left as he waited for the witch. The screams had long since stopped, but he could still hear the echo of her voice in his ear.
"Please don't do this," she dug her heels into the frozen ground.
Centuries ago he might have been inclined to react to the fear in her voice, but that was before Katerina had played him for a fool and hardened his heart.
He righted her body and steered her toward the house with an iron grip on her elbow. She struggled against him futilely every step of the way. If it wouldn't have led to the need for mass compulsion he would have tossed her over his shoulder.
"You don't have to do this," she dug her heels in and managed to make him stop for a moment. Her eyes pleaded with him to let her go. "He doesn't even have the moonstone. I will die in that house."
"Niklaus has lacked a reason to find the stone until now," he gave her a pointed look. "I assure you that he will renew his efforts and focus on hunting Katerina down."
"And then he'll kill her and me," she shook. Fear and anger flashed in her eyes. "You're helping him kill us both."
"What do you want me to do?" He narrowed his eyes.
Tears welled, misting over her vision and making her eyes glisten in the flickering light from the windows. He had always had a weakness for those expressive eyes. Tatia and Katerina had used theirs to stop him in his tracks, steal the breath from his lungs and bring him to his knees. Doppelgangers used their eyes to manipulate, and he would not be manipulated again.
"Let me go."
He took a deep breath and stepped towards her. She jumped at the sudden move but stood her ground. He met her desperate eyes and tilted his head. He slid his hand from her elbow to her shoulder feeling the whisper of silk against his palm. It was a cold December night and Klaus had dragged her from Kol's home without giving her time to grab a jacket; oddly enough she hadn't started her pleas until they were outside.
She trembled under his hand; frigid air adding to her performance.
"Do you know what happens if I let you go?" He cocked an eyebrow.
"I'll live…"
He cut her off with a finger under her chin. Her pulse pounded in her throat.
"You're wrong. If I let you go he will find you and I will meet the same fate as Kol," he glanced at the now empty street. "Your death is inevitable."
He grabbed her arms, flashed up the steps and pushed her through the open doors. Magic sealed the house before she could stand.
He heard her shrieks through the heavy wood as he walked back through the gates; the beginning strains of guilt prickled the base of his skull.
"Mr. Mikaelson," a delicate voice came from his side.
He cleared his throat and shook off the memory. Had it really only been an hour ago that he had deposited her in the house?
He turned to see the woman's furrowed brow. Her blue eyes were nearly white in the darkness.
"Are you ready?" She rubbed her hands together. "You'll only have five minutes to find her and get her back out."
"Yes, Miss Griffin," he nodded.
"There are a lot of witches inside," she warned, pulling off her gloves, "since the covens have taken control and turned it into an asylum."
"Precisely the reason she needs to be removed. The cottage was never meant to hold her for a long period of time. Whenever you're ready."
He moved through the gates when she murmured that it was done. A few seconds later he stepped into the house and came face-to-face with Mary Alice Claire.
"Where is the doppelganger?"
"Are you taking her away?" She uncrossed her arms.
"Yes," he nodded, "and for your help Niklaus has agreed to let you go. The moment she is safe in his presence you will be issued your freedom."
She straightened up with a tight smile and motioned for him to follow.
His heart jumped into his throat when she froze outside the kitchen. A second later the smell of blood assaulted him.
"No," he moved quickly, pushing her out of the way and raising his voice. "No!"
He ran into the room and caught her falling body. Staring into her lifeless eyes he smoothed the damp hair from her face and repeated the word, sparing no attention to the weeping woman who cried that she couldn't stop her.
There was only one voice in his head.
I will die in that house.