Verbier, Switzerland, 5 years ago

Klaus was gone.

They spent two weeks scouring the mountainside with the help of vampires and werewolves and hybrids and found nothing except snow and ice. It was like the avalanche had wiped away all trace of him.

Bonnie barely slept, and only the thought of her babies pushed food into her mouth.

"You should be resting."

She jumped at the sound of Elijah's voice. It was 3 am and everyone else was asleep (or so she thought). The elder Original ambled into the living room, his shirtsleeves rolled up and a day's worth of stubble shadowing his face. He looked at her with concern.

"I should be out there looking for him," Bonnie snapped, dangling a crystal over the newest map, scrying in vain for Klaus's location.

"The locator spells aren't working," Elijah reminded her quietly.

Ignoring him, she wiped her nose and returned her focus to the map.

He bent down and grabbed her wrist, turning it over gently so she caught the glisten of blood on her fingers.

"You're bleeding."

"Thanks Captain Obvious," she snatched her hand back, "I never would've noticed if it wasn't for you."

Elijah frowned, "I know how you must feel-,"

"No you don't," she dropped the pendant and tried to stand up but it was too hard, her back was stiff as iron and she winced, falling back against the couch.

"Let me take you back to New Orleans," he offered, carefully, "you need rest-"

"I'm not leaving until we find him-," she spoke through clenched teeth. They were supposed to return to New Orleans together, her and Klaus, and await the arrival of their twins. Their children, their heirs, the flesh and blood evidence of everything they'd built together.

Elijah sat down across from her, folding his elegant hands together. In that moment she hated him, for his composure, his lack of exhaustion, his ability to move around without hindrance while she sat here immobilized by her own body.

"Whoever did this," Elijah said tentatively, "they're still out there. We cannot remain here, Bonnie."

"You mean me," she folded her arms over her swollen belly, "the Mikaelson incubator. Can't have my stupidity risking these babies lives, right?"

Something flickered across his face, and his mouth tightened. "I am only looking out for your safety."

She stood up, slow and painful, and limped past him into the bedroom. It was all too little, much too late.

Mystic Falls, 10 years ago

It was a glistening humid night in August and she was sipping lemonade on her porch when Klaus pulled up in his dark-blue vintage Mustang. She hadn't seen him for almost six months, not since they'd worked together ousting some hell-bent witches from New Orleans (They'd ended up locking lips a couple times too, not that she was counting.)

He sauntered up her driveway in a white tee and dark jeans, his hair already extra curly from the moisture and a faint shadow of stubble on his jaw. As he drew near Bonnie felt her mouth water and a liquid rush of heat spread through her whole body, galvanizing her out of the listlessness that had plagued her all summer.

"Cancel your plans for the evening, love. I'm in need of your witchy assistance."

She rolled her eyes at his tone, annoyed by the nonchalance, "Well when you put it that way."

He leaned against the railing, striking an indolent pose that she couldn't help but find attractive.

"Just a small favor, sweetheart. I'll even let you drive," he dangled the keys at her, and she looked at the sexy-ass car parked on the street. She'd never driven a car like that.

"Fine," she stood, dusting off her tiny, blue cotton dress, "but I'm not doing any spells involving fire. It's too damn hot already."

She didn't miss the way his eyes travelled down her legs.

Driving the Mustang was the modern day equivalent of riding a stallion bareback across sunset plains. At least that's what it felt like to Bonnie. Her mood improved, and a part of her wanted to keep driving on the highway until Mystic Falls was well behind her.

Klaus had her drive them drive to the woods by the falls. As it turned out he just needed her to harvest some St John the Conqueror root under the light of a crescent moon. No other spells or help was mentioned, and they strolled around the foods for an hour or so while she collected the herb for him. He asked her how she was doing. She mentioned she was selling her dad's house.

"Why not keep it?" he moved a branch out of her way.

"It's too big for one person. Besides, since he died there's too much old energy in that house. I need a fresh place."

"Seems we are in similar predicaments. I have just purchased a residence in New Orleans."

"Well at least one of us is moving on from Mystic Falls." She tied the herbs in a cloth bag and handed them to him.

His hand circled her wrist, pulling her closer. She couldn't make out his face in the shadows but his voice was quiet and soft, "Why did you come back to this place? It's brought you nothing but misery and loss."

Her heartbeat quickened at his nearness, his scent, his touch, the heat radiating from his body to hers. The effect he had on her senses only heightened the emotional vulnerability she felt at his words. Bonnie swallowed, "I have friends here and-"

Klaus tugged her against his chest so she was forced to crane her neck and meet his eyes. "Don't lie to me," he murmured against her cheek. His stubble tickled her sensitive skin. "what made you leave New Orleans?"

I was afraid ok? I was afraid of you, how you made me feel, the things you made me want. I didn't want to be left behind again, don't you see? So I ran.

"Nothing that could keep me there," she quipped.

She blinked and found herself pushed up against a tree, his hands sliding down her waist and hips, the bag of herbs forgotten on the floor. Without giving her a chance to reach, Klaus covered her mouth with his. He kissed her in a possessive in a kind of way that made her weak in the knees. And at the same time a sliver of triumph unfurled inside her as she wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss.Who's lying now? He hadn't needed any witch-related help, he'd come back for her.

The victorious sensation was short-lived as she soon realized he had no intention of letting her leave these woods with any of her defenses intact. His mouth and hands were laying siege to her senses. She gasped when his hand wandered between her thighs, stroking her through her swiftly dampening panties.

"Why did you leave, little dove?" he whispered against her neck while the lazy movement of his fingers had her arching and gasping against him. He seemed to be taking her departure as a personal affront.

"Nik...please," she panted, gripping his shoulders to stay upright while grinding into his hand. Her whole body was felt like it was melting into him.

He slid to his knees in front of her, roughly parting her thighs and hooking one leg over his shoulder. Bonnie cried out when his mouth brushed her soaked panties. "Tell the truth now," he murmured. Slowly, oh so slowly, he moved the fabric aside so his breath fanned her damp flesh.

Her hands had a death-grip on his hair, giving her the illusion of control as he feasted on her. She was shivering and keening, neck thrown back, grinding into his face. He got her to the edge and pulled back, nuzzling her thigh instead. "I'm waiting, love."

"Fuck you," she bit out, except in her frustration it sounded more like a moan.

"Tsk tsk tsk," he gave her another lick, fingers stroking her from the inside, "good little Bonnie Bennett being ravished by the Original Hybrid, and out in the woods no less. What would your friends say?"

"Shut uuuup," she fisted her hands in his curls, desperate for the orgasm hovering just out of reach. When he stood up without letting her finish she almost cried. But Klaus wasn't done with her yet. In a single motion he'd hoisted her in the air and unbuckled his jeans. Her trembling legs wrapped around his waist for purchase and she could feel him at her entrance, hard and hot and as ready as she was.

"Six months," he whispered into her neck as he eased inside, filling her inch by slow inch and making them both groan, "-my patience has limits, love."

"This isn't fair," she pleaded. Klaus grasped her ass and lifted her she could take more of him. The sensation was so intense tears formed at the corners of her eyes.

"I don't play fair," he said huskily while his hand returned to her clit, caressing the spot while he moved faster. Bonnie's head fell back, unable to resist the sensual assault on her sanity.

She felt the tip of his nose against her pulse, "Trust me?"

"Yes," the word slipped out. He was the most powerful and dangerous supernatural being in the world and she was fucking him in the woods at night. Somewhere along the line she'd started to trust that, despite his many misdeeds and faults, Klaus would never truly hurt her.

Several things happened at once. Klaus bit into her neck and she cried out from the raw, piercing pleasure. She'd never been drunk from, not like this. It was like she couldn't hide anything from him, he could sense every beat of her heart every rush of her breath every pulsing thought. Take it, this feeling of being trapped this fear this loneliness, take it from me.

He removed his fangs momentarily and opened a vein on his own wrist. Dazed, Bonnie realized what he was asking her to do. Holding on to his other shoulder for purchase, she pressed his hand to her mouth and sucked on the electric warm blood. Klaus moaned and cursed softly as she drank, then returned his teeth to her neck, taking from her while she took from him.

She could taste the desire in his blood, his desire for her, his desire for a new life in New Orleans, and it sparked her own wanting and restlessness until she scraped her nails across his back to anchor herself. Blood sharing like this was no small thing in the supernatural world. It felt like they were rooting themselves inside each other, a deep and hungry planting.

Later they went swimming in the falls under the sparse moonlight. Klaus pulled her against his chest, returning his lips to the same place on her neck.

Bonnie sighed into his embrace. "Take me away?"

She felt his triumphant grin against her shoulder, "I thought you'd never ask."

New Orleans, Present Day

"I like what you've done with the place," Klaus surveyed the photographs over the mantlepiece, drink held casually in his hand, "whose idea were the family pictures?"

Bonnie swallowed a drink of water while Klaus surveyed the parlor. After she'd come to, she'd asked for a minute alone with Klaus. Elijah had obliged, though not without concern.

"Mateo's actually. He's obsessed with photography." She didn't say the rest, that the boy already had an artistic eye reflecting his parentage.

"The perfect family," he remarked, the faintest trace of bitterness in his voice, "how trite."

Her fingers tightened around her glass, "We looked for you, everywhere. I tried spells and-"

He turned to face her. His hair was a little longer, curlier and fluffier up top in a way that reminded her of her children's. She felt a sense of unravelling, stitch by careful stitch.

"Easy, love," his smile didn't reach his eyes, "one might think you feel guilty."

Bonnie stood up, shaking from head to toe, "How dare you. You selfish, arrogant-,"

"Selfish am I?" his lip curled, "so selfish I let myself be confined in a glacial tomb for years to protect you, while you and Elijah play bloody house in my absence!"

"You're unbelievable! Elijah and I had to take care of each other, take care of our children-,"

"And I'm sure he put up a mighty protest when you begged him to fill my shoes. I hope they didn't pinch his noble feet."

"What was I supposed to do?" she shouted, her temples throbbing, "crawl across the mountains on my hands and knees looking for you? Bury myself in the snow where they last saw you? What, Klaus? I considered each and every scenario and some that you can't even imagine, but I couldn't do that. It wasn't just about me anymore."

He was silent, eyes flashing. Bonnie took a deep breath and ran her hands through her hair. "I need some air."

Klaus flashed to her side and grasped her wrist.

She looked down at their hands and deja vu hit like a punch to the gut.

"Wait," he said.

Reluctantly, she let him lead her to the french doors and throw them open, bathing the room in fresh air and daylight.

They stood there in the rich warmth of a golden New Orleans afternoon. Bonnie sighed, "What do you want me to say, Klaus?"

"Nothing. Just allow me to look at you in the light."

Their eyes met and she couldn't avert her gaze. He was really here, in the flesh, still Klaus. When he brushed her cheek she leaned into the touch almost reflexively, the years between melting like ice-cream in the sun.

He stared and stared at her like he was drinking his fill, until at last she couldn't bear it anymore.

"Klaus...I have to think of Mirah and Mateo," she whispered.

"They are my children too," he responded, quietly.

"Then don't ask me to turn their lives upside down. Please."

There was a pause, and Klaus looked down at their joined hands. The pad of his thumb brushed her bare ring finger.

New Orleans, 8 Years Ago

Blood covered the walls and floors, splattered across the ceiling like a nightmarish Jackson Pollock painting.

Bonnie had seen her fair share of carnage but this, this would give the most hardened soul pause.

Klaus walked down the stairs, blood coating his hands and shirt. "I told you to stay home, love."

"Tristan isn't here," she whispered, trying and failing to count the bodies sprawled across the room, "what happened to me wasn't their fault."

"These upstarts," Klaus noted with cold disgust, coming to stand in front of her, "harbored Tristan and the Strix for months. Let this be a lesson to any new vampire who arrives in New Orleans with delusions of grandeur. This is my city, and my law reigns."

"I thought this was our city," she said slowly, folding her arms around herself.

Klaus sighed, "Forgive my semantics, of course it's ours. All the more reason everyone knows never to touch a single hair on your head without paying the price," he gestured at the blood-stained room.

"You promised me it wouldn't come to this."

"No, I promised to make you queen," he closed the distance between them, unaware or uncaring of the blood caking his clothes and face, "welcome to royalty, love. It's a bloody business but someone's got to get their hands dirty."

"Well you should just shake hands with Tristan," she retorted, anger swirling in her veins, "He wanted people to think the Originals are unpredictable monsters that should be locked away for everyone's safety, congratulations, you just proved him right."

Ignoring the dark look in his eyes she turned on her heel and stormed off.

She didn't see him for two days. On the third night he knocked on their bedroom door, rain-soaked with the smell of bourbon clinging to him like a second skin.

"Don't even think about touching me," Bonnie admonished, before pushing him into the bath.

She was dozing on the settee when he brushed a thumb across her lips and eased her awake. Blinking, she took in the sight of her husband, wrapped in a towel, curly blond hair dripping wet, face clean and almost boyish.

He knelt by her side and cupped her cheek.

As she searched his eyes she knew he wasn't just referring to this latest misdeed. He craved her love and kindness like they were the lone ropes tethering him to humanity. It was a power she'd never asked to hold, a weakness he'd never dreamed of encountering.

Klaus entwined their fingers and brushed the ring he'd given her, his promise for their future together.

"You can't protect me from everything all the time," Bonnie said quietly, "I accepted the risks of us being together. I need you to do the same."

His mouth twisted in a self-deprecating smile, "If I'm monstrous in protecting you then so be it. At least our enemies will have an easy target for their hatred."

And there it was, the way it had always been. He put himself between her and the world like an unshakeable wall, never mind the rain and hail that might assail him. No one else, not even her own family, had ever protected her with such absolution.

It was both terrifying and addictive.

"Am I forgiven?" he asked softly.

Bonnie lifted their joined hands to her cheek, wishing she could make him understand. "I don't want anyone to try and hurt you, Nik." she whispered, using the nickname she reserved for special occasions. She knew he was well nigh indestructible, but she'd had so few certainties in her life.

She let him pull her into his arms and carry her to their bed. Holding on to his neck, she leaned a cheek on his shoulder, "Promise me you'll always be here."

"The Devil himself couldn't tear me from your side."

New Orleans, 5 years ago

She was one week from her due date and her mood swings so unpredictable no one wanted to be around her for long. It was fine, Bonnie prefered it that way. She couldn't stand the pitying glances and concerned looks, she'd much rather have people angry and annoyed at her. It kept her distracted from the black hole that threatened to open up in her chest whenever she thought about Klaus. Rebekah and Freya and Abby and everyone else who spent more than ten minutes with her lived to regret it. Everyone that is, except Elijah.

Elijah, who made it a point to see her several times during the day, bringing her news from the Quarter, asking her opinion on the renewed search for Tristan, calmly skimming her moods without so much as a twitch of the eyebrow.

Bonnie took a hot and cold approach, trying to see which would make him crack faster. He'd spend hours explaining the details of some new plan to find Tristan and she'd respond with a shrug. He'd outline a careful approach to tracking down any remaining Strix members and she'd demand nothing less than their heads on a platter.

She refused to let him open doors or hold chairs out for her. When he offered to help her stand up and sit down (tasks that had become frustratingly difficult the closer she got to giving birth) she rebuffed him rudely. Still, he kept extending his strong, well-groomed hand.

One such time she set his wrist on fire and watched in grim satisfaction as he hurriedly doused his hand in a carafe of water. She was sure this was it, the breaking point. He abhorred rudeness and she'd been nothing but. Instead, Elijah wiped away the water with a handkerchief, nodded briefly at her and left the room.

To make things worse, sleep was a luxury she could barely remember enjoying. Besides getting up to pee every five minutes, the babies were restless and spent hours moving and kicking inside her. One night after going to the bathroom for the fifth time Bonnie put on her robe and padded downstairs. Her back and hips were sore, there was a dull, throbbing ache at her temples and her feet were so swollen she could barely walk.

She painstakingly made her way to the sitting room only to find Elijah there. He was sitting cross-legged in a reading chair, half-full whiskey glass at his side, turning the pages of a hardcover book. For a split second she wanted to fix her hair, try and appear calm and presentable.

Then he said it, "Should you not be lying down?"

Her eye twitched. 'Lying down'. Who did he think he was? The family midwife?

"Actually," she said with exaggerated sweetness, "I have this craving, and you know what they say about pregnant women and their cravings."

He raised an eyebrow warily.

Bonnie crossed her arms, "I want, no, I absolutely must have, fresh-picked strawberries in a little golden bowl, covered in Tristan's blood. Nothing else. Can you get me that?"

"Strawberries are not in season this time of year," he carefully bookmarked his page.

"If I don't have strawberries right this minute I'll throw myself on this floor and pull out my own hair."

"Just so I am clear, Tristan's blood is optional but it's the strawberries you really care about."

She narrowed her eyes and took a step so she was standing directly over him, "You're a condescending ass, you know that?"

His jaw moved in an amused smile, "I am perfectly aware of my limitations, but if enumerating them helps your mood, please, be my guest."

She flicked her wrist and a book flew off the shelf, narrowly missing his head. Her lips curled at the startled expression on his face. She decided she liked him startled.

"On second thought, I think I'll read for a while," she announced, walking along the shelves, waving her fingers and causing books to sail through the air. Elijah had organized these books meticulously. She knew because she'd caught him reprimanding Klaus multiple times for putting a volume in the wrong place.

"Oooh do you have any murder mysteries?" she glanced over her shoulder, "maybe here?" a sweep of her hand and an entire section spilled to the ground.

"Bonnie-,"

"Any suggestions?" she continued walking the length of the room, wreaking havoc on the shelves with casual ease.

Elijah was standing, watching her with a slight clench to his jaw.

"Ooh, what's up here," she fluttered her fingers at the top shelf where the old manuscripts were locked behind glass doors.

"Don't-,"

The doors flew open and centuries old tomes sailed through the air and scattered across the floor. When the dust settled she noted Elijah's tightly furious expression.

"Oops. Sorry, you know how these pregnancy hormones are."

He flashed to stand in front of her, and she watched him with baited breath, waiting, ready to snap back with words, her tongue poised like a switchblade.

The Original inclined his head and lowered his voice, "Behaving like him won't bring him back."

Silence stretched painfully thin between them. Somewhere a clock chimed, little drops of noise in the deep quiet.

"You don't know anything," she hissed, "you don't know anything about me-,"

Elijah pocketed his hand, "I know you blame yourself. That's what these...tantrums are really about, lashing out at people who care about you, so they'll be as angry with you as you are with yourself."

He was right of course. Klaus' fate shook her to the core. She'd always thought of herself as the protector, the one who went to any lengths to keep her loved one safe, and yet she'd been utterly helpless to prevent the love of her life being swept away like a speck of dust.

Elijah's words had all but stripped her naked, and she hastened to cover herself in any way she could. "At least I'm pregnant," she said in a cold voice, "what's your excuse for abandoning Klaus when he needed you?"

This time, she really did think she'd gone too far. Elijah's posture shifted subtly, and a shadow crossed his face. He opened his mouth but then cut himself off, exhaling sharply before adjusting his tie. "Say what you will, I won't be goaded into berating a woman with child."

It was like a bucket of ice water in her face. She seethed. Her headache grew worse, and there was a dull ache in her lower back spreading down her legs. "Of course you won't, because you're too good for that. You're too above all the rest of us," using her hand to support her own back, she started to limp away.

His expression showed confusion. She continued, "That's why you keep your distance, why you'll barely look at me most days, won't even condescend to get angry with me like a normal person-,"

All this time he'd maintained a cool aloofness, but suddenly she felt a firm grip on her elbow and Elijah was towering over her again, dark eyes searching her face for what she didn't know.

"You think," he said quietly, "that I have been avoiding you because I want to-,"

His sentence was cut off by Bonnie's sharp gasp. Pain doubled her over like the slice from a searing blade. There was a blow-like unclenching deep inside her, and suddenly she was soaking wet from the thighs down.

Elijah, who was was still holding on to her, looked down at the floor, "Oh dear God-,"

She didn't even have to see the fluid soaking into the rug and splattering Elijah's expensive shoes to realize what was happening. "...I think my water just broke."