New Orleans, Present Day

It was startling, how things had evolved in his absence. Klaus felt like a time traveller in the house that used to be his, in the city he'd lost twice, with the children he'd never dreamed of having, and the woman who was a once-in-a-lifetime (yes, even an immortal lifetime) kind of being.

They worked out a plan where he spent two days out of the week and a monthly weekend with the kids. Elijah and Bonnie had insisted on accompanying him for the first few. They claimed it would help the children acclimate but he knew better. They didn't know whether to trust him around Mirah and Mateo, and that hurt more than he would ever admit.

The children were shy around him at first, and that hurt too. He'd always thought that the love he felt for his siblings, twisted and tangled though it was through years of bitterness and betrayal, was the purest emotion he'd ever experience. Then, he met Bonnie, and it was like a new, strong branch springing to life on a broken tree. But what he felt the first time he saw the twins - like a punch to the gut, something that knocked the wind out of his lungs - terrified him.

For the first time in years he found himself reliving his own childhood and Mikael's violent abuse, and every time he was near the twins he'd imagine someone hurting them and want to punch a wall. He wanted to rip the skin off anyone who even thought about doing them harm, and then he'd remember the way Bonnie had looked at him the time he'd slaughtered all those vampires in her name, and shame and fear would twist inside him like a knife.

There were days he didn't want to look in the mirror for fear that Mikael would be looking back.

"It gets easier," Bonnie told him one evening, "you just have to keep showing up."

Even the most innocuous words felt like cuts.

After he'd finally escaped from the icy tomb Tristan had trapped him in Klaus made sure to hunt him down and eliminate the threat to him and his family. He'd imagined a glorious homecoming, a secure city and a safe family that would welcome him with love and gratitude.

But then fear and paranoia had crept in. What if Tristan had allies? Allies that would follow him to Bonnie and the children? What if Bonnie blamed him for Tristan's actions? What if, like Mikael always said, he ruined everything? So the weeks turned into months and years and he still didn't return. The world thinking he was gone was strangely numbing at first, then slowly liberating. He was free to act without precondition. Make new choices. It was the closest he'd ever come to a clean slate.

"Klaus, Klaus!" Bonnie's voice was soft and urgent, "wake up."

His eyes flew open. Slowly, his surroundings came into view. He'd dozed off on the couch after Bonnie went upstairs to put the kids down.

"You okay?" her hand covered his, feeling the cold sweat, and immediately concern tinged her words, "you're shaking."

"I'm fine," he said roughly, sitting up and putting his feet on the floor. He hadn't had a nightmare in months. There was a time when he couldn't close his eyes without the sensation of suffocating under an icy ground.

"Just like Mirah," Bonnie continued, eyes searching his face, "she has night terrors sometimes."

Klaus rested his elbows on his knees, avoiding her gaze while he composed himself. "Do you know the cause?"

"No. Some things don't have an explanation. They just are."

He looked at her at last. A few curls had escaped her braid, drawing his attention to the curve of her throat. He remembered the feel of her pulse speeding up beneath his lips, the little gasp she'd make when he-

"Klaus?"

He cleared his throat, "I was...thinking."

She raised an eyebrow, but a smile twisted her lips, "About?"

He hastened to change the subject. "Why not let Mirah play in the studio with me tomorrow? I've been meaning to go in there myself."

"Sure, if you think you're studio can survive." she remarked wryly.

"It survived you," he pointed out before he could help himself. Bonnie threw a cushion at his face.

"Painting helped me when I was young," he said after a beat, "perhaps if she can approximate the colors of her nightmares, she can start being less afraid of them."

Bonnie gave him a strange look and then, without warning, hugged him. Klaus had never wanted time to freeze so badly as when he felt her arms around his neck. He tried not to inhale her scent too deeply or pull her too close. He almost failed. For a second, he would've kicked every clean slate to the curb just to kiss her again.

He pulled away first, doggedly ignoring the fact that he could pick up on her increased heartbeat.

"Goodnight, love."

There was a pause, then she mumbled," 'night," stood up and hurried away.

Two months later they found themselves alone again. Elijah was in Europe tying up some loose ends with the Strix (Klaus had the sneaking suspicion his brother was avoiding either him or Bonnie or both, but, selfishly, held his tongue). The kids had all but put themselves to bed after a vigorous game of hide and seek. An uncharacteristically chilly storm was blowing outside and they were halfway through a second bottle of wine.

The conversation was comfortable and focused on the children. Mirah was turning out five or more finger-painting masterpieces everyday now. After their refrigerator quickly ran out of surface, Klaus had renovated one of the mansion's many guest rooms into a mini gallery for her. She was sleeping better and talking about going to art camp for the summer. Mateo was still shy around him, but the other day Klaus showed him how to make kites and there was talk of going to the park next week.

The terror of failing them was still strong, but Bonnie assured him that was a normal side-effect of parenting.

A flash of thunder and lightning made her jump and unconsciously scoot closer to him on the couch. She wasn't afraid of storms so much as overly sensitive to them; something about her being a witch and tapped into nature. He should've moved away right then, should've left the room and bid her goodnight.

Bonnie leaned her head on his shoulder and he froze. When she didn't move away he tentatively put his arm around her and they sat there, quiet and close. Then, she gave a sigh like she'd been holding something in for a long time, and melted against him. Klaus gathered her in his arms, wanting to absorb the feel of her.

Long moments slipped by. He rubbed slow circles on her back and stroked her hair, trailed the tip of his nose along her neck and ears. She smelled like strawberry ice cream. God, he'd waited so long to touch her like this, be close to her like this. He thought he'd be ravenous with want and that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from tearing her clothes off, but instead he was bowled over the by the need to simply enjoy her, savor her closeness, the small puffs of her breath, the way she responded to his touch.

They ended up lengthwise on the couch.

It felt like they'd been doing this forever, like the past few years melted where skin touched skin.

Bonnie tugged at the hem of his shirt and he pulled it off. Her green eyes were soft and her lips swollen from their kisses. Klaus wanted to tell her how fucking gorgeous she was, but the words stuck in his throat. She skimmed her fingers over his chest like she was committing him to memory, pausing at the new tattoo on his right shoulder.

"What kind of bird is that?"

"An albatross," he angled his head to kiss her fingers, "for journeys."

Suddenly she was crying. "You promised," was all she said, "you promised."

He'd never really been good with other people's tears, and hers were another matter altogether. So he awkwardly wiped the drops away with his thumb, "I'm not worth your tears, love."

Instead of pushing him away Bonnie tightened her arms around him and wept into his shoulder. And he had the sudden, startling realization that she wanted him to comfort her, that maybe in that moment he was the only one who could, and that his presence and touch were enough of themselves.

Sitting up slowly, he pulled her onto his lap and held her through the last of her tears. Not knowing when he'd ever be this close to her again, he kissed every inch of exposed skin. When his lips lingered on her shoulder, the scent of her neck made him shudder.

She drew the hunger out in him so simply. He could feel his eyes darkening the longer he stared at the curve of her throat, the longer her pulse pounded in his head. To Bond with someone meant you and only you had the right to drink their blood, and Klaus had drunk from her plenty of times, usually at the height of their lovemaking when the bite would send them both over the edge into frenzy. But he didn't want the dizziness of ecstasy tonight. He wanted this clear-headed passion, this steady flame of loving her and feeling her love him. He wanted to remember this moment.

"Klaus...," she whispered, sensing the direction of his thoughts.

He played with the loose curls around her ear, unable to move his eyes from her neck.

"He's never drunk from me," she said slowly, "no one else has, only you."

"Send me away," he murmured, brushing his mouth across her skin, "now, love."

She shook her head over and over, gripping his arms tight enough to leave moon-shaped marks, "I won't. I can't."

With one hand she swept her hair off her shoulder, exposing her neck even more. The other one curled into his nape and drew him towards her.

His fangs descended of their own volition, penetrating soft flesh, making her gasp. The moment he tasted her blood he was lost, eyes dragging shut, senses humming, every cell in his body electrifying.

"Nik," she sighed, stroking the back of his head.

He'd told her once that he would gladly be the monster, for her sake. And yet in that moment, drinking from her, holding her, feeling her, Klaus had never felt more human.

Santorini, Greece, 3 years ago

"You're worried about them."

Bonnie toyed with her napkin and gave Elijah a rueful look, "It's that obvious huh?"

His expression was amused, "Since we sat down to breakfast you've glanced at your phone no less than fifteen times."

"Oh god," she slumped down in her chair as he poured her more fresh orange juice, "I swore I wouldn't be one of those moms."

Elijah quirked an eyebrow, "Spending every waking moment consumed with worry for those you care about? Doesn't sound like you at all."

She threw a roll at him. He caught it of course and set it neatly down beside his fruit. His eyes remained on her however. "It's good to see you smile."

Bonnie shrugged off the compliment and attacked some of her eggs. She realized now why Elijah spent so much time being aloof and distant: few people could withstand the steady intensity of his full attention. He had a way of drawing things out of you and off you so you felt quite naked.

"It's beautiful here," she said after a few bites. They were staying in a villa overlooking the sapphire-blue Mediterranean, eating breakfast on a balcony with cascades of bright bougainvillea flowers. The perfect honeymoon location.

"I'm glad you think so. This is one of my favorite places." Elijah seemed at home under the Grecian sun. With his dark hair and fluent Greek he looked like he belonged here.

She felt bad for incessantly worrying about Mirah and Mateo, after all they were safely housed in the compound in New Orleans with Freya, Bekah and Marcel to protect them, and she'd left detailed instructions about their care. But a thousand little things had started gnawing her the moment they got in the car for the airport. Would they be confused and sad when she was gone for more than two days? Would they be able to sleep? Would Freya remember that Mirah needed lavender in her bath at night? Were they making sure that Mateo had his stuffed bunny with him at all times?

Bonnie spent the first night of their honeymoon falling asleep on Skype with her babies, and two days later she still couldn't stop thinking about them. She was in a beautiful country with rich food and richer culture, accompanied by a man who turned heads wherever he went for his suave good looks (she'd caught the admiring glances of both men and women directed his way when they'd walked around the market) and all she could concentrate on were feeding schedules and bedtime stories.

Elijah, ever the gentleman, indulged her. She felt guilty, he'd clearly gone to a lot of trouble to arrange a beautiful honeymoon, but how much of it was for her and how much proving to their enemies that the Mikaelson-Bennett alliance was as strong as ever? This wasn't a "real" marriage after all, just a stipulation of the laws of Bonding in the vampire world.

"Seems we have visitors," Elijah interrupted her reverie. A black car had pulled up below.

"We weren't expecting anyone," Bonnie frowned, instantly on alert.

She followed Elijah downstairs and the front door flung open.

For a second Bonnie blinked in disbelief, then rushed towards her sister-in-law with a squeal of delight. Freya stood there, a baby in each arm.

Bonnie showered their faces with kisses then turned to Elijah with two armfuls of toddler, who was watching them with a serenely satisfied look on his face.

"You're behind this," she accused playfully.

"Hey, I'm the one who just flew two toddlers across an ocean. A little thanks?" Freya looked at her brother, who inclined his head.

Bonnie thanked her sister in law who promptly headed to the restroom while the twins waddled over to Elijah, making gurgly sounds that sounded like "Da"

She watched him gather the children in his arms and something tugged at her heart.

"You knew about this all along," she said, watching him.

"I knew I wanted to see you smile," he replied.

Impulsively, she walked up and kissed him. For a second he stiffened from the unexpected contact, then, tilting his head he brushed his lips softly over hers, a caress all the more sensual for its restraint.

She saw the surprise and heat in his dark eyes when they parted. Bonnie touched the side of his face, "You've given me a lot to smile about."

She didn't quite realize how much she'd come to rely on Elijah until a month later, during the Mikaelson winter ball. It was a tradition that Freya had suggested reviving to present a united front to their enemies. It was also a diversion to gather everyone under one roof while Elijah dealt with a cache of Strix members hiding out in the city.

"I'm worried about him." Bonnie whispered to Freya as they sipped their champagne in a corner of the room.

"Relax, Elijah can handle himself."

"I should've gone with him instead of playing dress up here."

"You're exactly where you need to be, keeping everyone distracted while Elijah finishes the job," Freya said coolly, "look sharp, here comes one now."

William Grant was an ambitious werewolf new to New Orleans. A little too ambitious for Bonnie's taste. He approached her now with an ingratiating smile and an extended hand, "May I have this dance, Ms Bennett?"

"Of course," she faked a bright smile and, handing her glass to Freya, allowed him to lead her onto the floor.

"Or is it Bennett-Mikaelson? I could never keep up," William said casually.

Bonnie recognized the slight for what it was, "Please, don't hurt yourself trying."

He narrowed his eyes, "And where pray tell is your new husband this evening? Last I heard you were still searching for the old one-,"

"Excuse me William but I'm afraid I must cut in."

Elijah had appeared beside them, looking fresh off the pages of GQ in a dark suit and laconic expression. He smoothly maneuvered Bonnie into his arms and, with a cool nod at William, moved her around the floor.

"Did he upset you?," he murmured when they were out of William's earshot.

Bonnie kept her demeanor calm, "It doesn't matter. Did you find them?"

Elijah frowned, noticing her tight grip on his arm like she couldn't believe he was real. "All twelve. Rest assured, they'll trouble us no more."

"Twelve?" her eyes widened, "that's way more than we expected."

"The element of surprise worked in my favor. And being an Original wasn't exactly a handicap."

Relief flooded through her, made tangy with her earlier fear for his safety. She forced herself to remain composed while he lead her around the floor, to relax into the comforting assurance of his presence.

Later that night when the guests had long departed and the necessary family debrief was had, they found themselves alone in the parlor. Bonnie threw herself into his arms and Elijah gathered her close. "You're trembling," he noted quietly, running his hands down her back in slow, soothing motions.

She laughed shakily, resting her cheek on his lapel and breathing in the faint, clean scent of his aftershave. "I was worried about you. You shouldn't have gone alone."

"Alone is how I work best," he said quietly into her hair, "call it self-preservation."

She waited for him to clarify.

"If no one I care about is nearby, I can act with impunity, without worry for their safety."

"I'm a Bennett witch. I can handle myself."

He pulled back to look at her, cupping her cheek, "Call it strategy then. I prefer to hide my weaknesses at all times."

The way he was looking at her made it difficult to breathe, that clear and unwavering look so quintessentially Elijah, and yet with a tinge of intensity she'd never seen before.

"Is that what I am?" she managed, "a weakness?"

His throat moved as he swallowed. the pad of his thumb resting at at the corner of her mouth.

Something small and soft flung itself against Bonnie's legs, rustling the silver-blue layers of her dress and breaking the tension in the air. "Mama." Mirah hugged her knee, blinking up at her with wide, bright eyes.

Together they took her upstairs and laid her down again. Between Elijah's bedtime-story voice, and Bonnie's use of a calming spell, the girl was soon asleep.

Elijah paused at the entrance to Bonnie's room. He'd never tried to share her bed, even though they were married, or Bonded, as far as the supernatural community was concerned.

She played with his loosened collar, and the word slipped out before she realized it, "Stay."

That scorchingly open look came over his face again. His eyes drifted to her mouth and she swayed into him. The kiss was soft at first then it wasn't. Bonnie wrapped her arms around his neck as he pushed her gently against the door. All the worry and fear from earlier in the evening was melting against him, and she never wanted to stop.

"Stay," she whispered against his mouth, skimming her hands over his chest. He covered her neck with hot kisses, pressing her tightly against him. Bonnie could feel his weakening resolve and it made her light-headed.

"Stay, Elijah," she said again, softly, tugging on his collar. The sound of his name was like a key turning. Their mouths sought each other hungrily as they stumbled backwards into her room. A trail of clothes followed them to the bed. He touched her like a man in a fever dream afraid he would wake up to nothing.

She laughed and used her magic to flip them so she was on top. He gazed at her with a mix of wonderment and desire that made her lower belly tighten. Putting her hands on his chest she rode him slowly then faster, chipping away at his restraint, watching him come apart piece by piece.

"Do you trust me?" she breathed, lowering her head so her hair tickled his chest.

"Yes...,"

She kissed him hard, biting his lower lip and drawing a growl from his throat, "Then trust me. Don't hold back."

In a blink she was on her back again, Elijah having moved at vampire speed. His eyes grew pure-black, dark veins visible around them.

She'd never seen him like this. It was intoxicating.

"I might hurt you...," he rasped, his hands tight around her wrists like he was enjoying her and warning her at the same time.

"I might want you to," she found herself saying. All the worry and tension from the night, all the worry and fear of the past few years, she wanted them shaken out of her, to break against the one solid thing in her life.

New Orleans, Present Day

Elijah straightened up, closing the lid on his leather suitcase.

Bonnie stood there feeling the world slipping out from beneath her feet again. It was like she was back on that Swiss mountain. She refused to go through the same hell twice. Determination and anger flooded through her.

"And what do I tell the twins when they ask where you are?"

He looked away, pocketing his hand, "I am sure they will acclimate to their natural father soon enough."

"I can't even begin to describe how much is wrong with that sentence."

"Niklaus is their father, and your rightful husband. There's nothing preventing you from having the family you always wanted."

"You're part of that family- " she wanted to scream in frustration and cry at the same time.

"So you harbor no feelings towards him?" Elijah asked in that detached, rhetorical way like he already knew the answer.

Bonnie raised her chin, "I won't lie to you. Yes, I have feelings for Klaus. Yes, he's their father. But you," she paused, stepping closer to him, "you helped me raise them for six years. You were there when they took their first steps, you've read them bedtime stories every night. You're their hero. Nothing can change that."

Elijah took a deep breath, reining in the emotions that flickered across his face, "Those things...were never mine to begin with."

He crossed the room to stand before her, brushing her hair back from her neck and resting his fingers on the same place Klaus' fangs had been a week ago. Her skin burned where he touched. "You were never mine to take."

"Elijah-"

"The laws of Bonding required that I Bind myself to you in the instance of my brother's death. They make no allowance for the dead returning, so I must forge my own choice. The right choice."

"What are you saying?"

"Niklaus is alive and well, and cares for you, differently than he's ever cared for anyone. I've watched him with the children and with you. He should take his rightful place in this city, and at your side."

His words, so precise and calm, got under her skin like a knife. She had the urge to throw books at his head like all those years ago the night she'd gone into labor. He'd held her hand through the worst of the pains, told her to grip as hard as she needed. She'd relied on his composed strength then, now it made her want to kick something. Bonnie shook off his hand and edged away from him.

"So that's it? It all comes down to the "laws of Bonding"? That all that Mirah and Mateo were to you? Responsibilities you couldn't avoid?"

"Don't-"

"Was making love to me just an obligation too?"

His nostrils flared as her words found their mark. Something barely restrained flashed in his dark eyes but he said nothing. She had the strangest sense of deja vu, transported to a drunken night when she'd asked him to dance and he'd coolly rebuffed her.

"You were supposed to choose me," he said suddenly, with a vehemence that startled her.

There was a rough edge to his voice like his control was slipping ever so slightly, "When you first crossed paths with me and my brother, did you think it was only Niklaus who noticed you? You think I did not see your fire, your beauty, your courage, and want you for myself?"

She was trying to digest what he was saying, fitting the pieces of a larger puzzle, "But you were always so distant...you barely spoke to me."

"You brought my brother happiness, and in doing so united my siblings in a way that we had not been for centuries." He paused, then said quietly, "Loving you from afar seemed a small price to pay."

Her mind was racing, filling in gaps, aligning images so that everything she thought she knew suddenly made a different kind of sense. "Did... Klaus know?"

"There were times I wondered. And other times I-," he broke off, pinching the bridge of his nose briefly like he was ashamed of himself, "In a thousand years I have never wished to trade places with my brother. Until you."

"With the Bonding law-,"

"That law means nothing to me," Elijah said fiercely, "understand this, Bonnie: I would have done the same for any of my brothers' wives should the necessity have arisen, but you...I needed no ancient law to remind me of what I'd wanted in silence for years."

"So now you want to turn back the clock, go back to just being the noble older brother?"

Elijah frowned, "What I want, is for you and Niklaus to be happy."

"No. No you don't get to do this to me. You and Klaus don't get to just-," her head was spinning, thoughts swooping in and out of her mind like furious birds. She took a deep breath and waited for the sky to clear. "The twins need to get out of the city anyway until Turner and his werewolves are gone. I'm gonna stay with Lucy for a while."

Without giving him a chance to respond she swept out of the room, holding her tears in check until much later when Mirah and Mateo were asleep next to her in the backseat of a taxi and she could, at last, cry both for the things she'd lost and the things she never knew were hers.