"Klaus killed Caroline. He sent me to deliver a message. He said to run. Run fast and run far. He's giving you a head start, but he won't stop until he finds and kills you."

There was both too much and not enough information in those five sentences. I didn't know where to begin. Instead, I did what I always do, I acted out. Before Tyler had time to react, I had him pinned to the wall, a hand to his throat, squeezing ever so slightly, but ready to increase the pressure if I didn't get the answers I wanted.

"Say that again," I growled, "slowly and clearly, because I want to know exactly what in the hell we did to piss off Klaus."

Tyler hesitated, which was a huge mistake on his part, because I started applying more and more pressure to his throat. I realized I might have gotten a little carried away when I felt his windpipe crushing under my hand. A light tap on the shoulder got my attention. Without looking, I knew that Elena was standing behind me.

"Damon, it will probably be easier for Tyler to answer your questions if he isn't dead. Let him go. Now, Damon."

Sometimes I forgot how stubborn she could be, but she made it clear she wasn't giving an inch on this. Reluctantly, I released Tyler. I did, however, keep him pinned to the wall with my fiercest don't-cross-me look.

"Klaus blames all of you, but especially you, Damon, for Elijah's death. His new mission in life is to make you pay."

Once Tyler started talking, it was like the cork had been popped on a champagne bottle. Everything he saw and heard at the Original's compound in New Orleans came pouring out of him.

Klaus was manic when Tyler arrived, pacing, mumbling to himself, occasionally throwing whatever object he could get his hands on. It wasn't until Klaus saw him that he started putting together coherent sentences while he turned his wrath on Tyler. Elijah was dead, killed by a group of New Orleans witches, but it was the Salvatores' fault. Caroline was dead, too, because she had betrayed Klaus. She deserved what she got, even if it had hurt Klaus in the process.

Tyler said that every hybrid instinct in him wanted to rip Klaus's heart from his chest, but he knew that was a battle he couldn't win. Instead, he watched as Klaus almost lovingly picked up a small carved wooden box that he handed to Tyler with instructions to deliver it and a message to the gang in Mystic Falls. With that, his mission accomplished, Klaus had held it together long enough to get his point across, he went back to his mad ravings, ignoring everyone in sight.

Tyler said he knew he couldn't come back to Mystic Falls with so little information because I would kill him. Good to know he's learned something over the years. Anyway, he tracked down Rebekah, who was keeping her distance from Klaus, wanting to stay clear of the fallout.

Rebekah was all too happy to explain why Elijah's death was my fault. She never did like me and was more than willing to push all of the blame on me. Yeah, Ric, if I'm to blame, then so is she.

Remember that time she got her kicks torturing me? Dangling me from the ceiling by my hands. Hands that were being ripped apart by bear traps. Bleeding the vervain from my body. Yeah, that was a fun day. Anyway, Stefan, being the hero he was, showed up to buy my freedom with the white oak stakes that we made from the Wickery Bridge sign. After a little compulsion applied to yours truly by Klaus, Stefan agreed to turn over the stakes that he had 'neglected' to include the first time. With that, Rebekah released me, picked up the duffle of stakes and left. That was the last time we saw the stakes. We all assumed that Rebekah had destroyed them like she said she would. And she did. All but one that she kept just in case Big Brother Klaus got a little dagger happy, as he tends to do.

That was it. That's how this whole disaster became my fault. If Stefan hadn't turned over the stakes to save me, Rebekah wouldn't have gotten her hands on one. She wouldn't have still had it years later. The witches wouldn't have found out about it and stolen it from her. They would have found another way to deal with Elijah and Klaus instead of confronting Elijah while having one of their own under a cloaking spell. While the group of witches argued with Elijah, the cloaked witch calmly walked up behind him and shoved that white oak stake through his heart.

It was my fault. My fault that Elijah was killed. My fault that Elena lost Jeremy. My fault that only part of Stefan made it home. My fault that Klaus pulled Caroline's daylight ring from her finger while she stood in his courtyard at noon. He couldn't bear to rip out her heart out, because he said it was the most beautiful part of her. Instead of instantaneous death, he sentenced her to a slow, painful one where she knew exactly what was happening and who had done it to her. That was my fault, too, because she had called me.

It was all my fault and it was up to me to fix it while trying to keep everyone else safe.

You know, Rose was right, but, if you see her, don't tell her I said that. She told me once that the switch was an illusion, a myth we told ourselves when we didn't want to deal with those pesky human emotions. I thought I had flipped it, had those emotions secured behind a thick, rock wall that would only come down when I was ready for it. Wrong. Instead, I had them locked tight in a house of straw. All it took was one gust from the Big Bad Wolf, aka Tyler Lockwood, to bring the whole thing down. All the rage, grief and guilt was there, demanding to be dealt with.

I couldn't look at anyone, much less say anything. I turned away, walked out of the library. As I walked out the front door, I head Elena's voice, just a whisper that only a vamp would hear.

"You can't kill him."

A/N - Thanks for continuing to read this story. I apologize for the short chapter, but it really was the best place to break it. Please, help keep LMM happy by leaving a review in the little box below. Thanks! ~ craftyjhawk