A/N: thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing, and I hope you guys enjoy part one of the finale!

NEW ORLEANS

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"Quit pouting, Gilbert," Klaus' voice was harsh, "The look doesn't suit you."

Jeremy glared, "Don't tell me what to do. It's bad enough that I'm stuck here with you, I don't need you ordering me around like you did your hybrids."

Klaus gritted his teeth, "Believe me, I don't want you here anymore than you wish to be here." He spared a disdainful glance at the empty space in the booth. "But without you, this whole plan fails to have any sort of meaning so I suggest you shut up and deal with it."

"She's not sitting there anymore," Jeremy snapped, pointing instead to a spot about two feet away from them. "She's standing over there now, and she doesn't appreciate the way you're speaking to me."

"Jer," Bonnie protested, "I didn't say anything!"

He scowled at her, "What's that supposed to mean? Don't tell me you're on his side!"

"I know you want to save Elena," she said placatingly, "But what did you expect would happen here if you left? Klaus can't see or hear me; how would we communicate about Marcel? We need you to be here, don't you see that?"

Klaus tapped his foot impatiently while listening to one side of the conversation, until he'd had enough. "Listen," he cut in, not knowing if he was actually interrupting or not. "I get that you wanted to go with Elijah so that you could save your sister—but trust me, she is in far better hands with him than she would be if you'd gone up there and simply been another person Silas could use as bait."

"He has a point."

"Would you stop agreeing with him!?"

Bonnie sighed and crossed her arms, "He's only stating the obvious."

"Fine," Jeremy said loudly, "Since you two clearly still think I'm some stupid kid who only knows how to get in the way—"

"That's not fair, Jer."

"You're only proving my point for me," Klaus growled, "By throwing this temper tantrum. God, you remind me of Bex sometimes."

"I don't see why you have to insult me."

Klaus shot him a look.

"Fine," Jeremy grumbled, "Let's get to the plan. Bonnie, you're going to follow Marcel for the rest of the day. Klaus and I will just sit in this bar and...keep each other company." He looked less than thrilled with the prospect.

"Oh cheer up, young Gilbert," Klaus leaned back, resting his arms along the top of the booth. "Good food, drinks, a nice view...what more could you ask for?"

Jeremy frowned, following his line of sight until he saw Camille standing behind the bar. Her blonde hair fell into her face as she studiously leant over a textbook, chewing one end of her pencil. "That the nice view you're talking about?" he asked skeptically, "I didn't think she was your type."

"Why not?"

Bonnie gave Jeremy a wave before disappearing, though not before giving him a warning look. He nodded at her before turning his attention back to Klaus. "Because she's human."

"So? You think I have something against humans?"

"Yes," Jeremy responded firmly, "You think you're better than them. You think you're better than most vampires and werewolves, too, come to think of it. But definitely better than humans."

Klaus stared at him, his brow furrowing slightly. "Is that what you think of me?" He hesitated then, the facade slipping a little. "Is that what Caroline thinks of me?"

"Don't pretend to care about her."

"Who said I was pretending?"

Jeremy jabbed a thumb in Camille's direction, "Well, you're already looking at other girls the second that Caroline leaves town, so—"

"Don't be ridiculous," Klaus snapped, beginning to look angry. "I don't feel anything for that bartender. It doesn't matter that she's human. She could be a thousand year old vampire for all I care. She's not Caroline."

Jeremy didn't react to this declaration, except to say, "She mentioned knowing you, the day that Caroline and I arrived in New Orleans."

["He's in here most nights, with his buddy Marcel...A real pair of charmers, the two of them. Klaus' brother Elijah joins them sometimes, but I get the feeling that the bar's not really his type of scene. More like he's around to keep an eye on his brother, you know?"]

Klaus looked surprised, "She said that? I wasn't aware I was being...charming."

"That's hardly the point of the story."

"I do like her," he admitted, though he sounded reluctant to say so. "She's strong, smart, unafraid...she stood up to Marcel the first night I met her. And she has a real eye for art; I enjoy speaking with her."

Jeremy stared at him.

"What?"

"Nothing...It's just that this is the first time I've heard you give credit where credit's due."

"You people have spent so much time making assumptions about me that none of you really know me at all, do you?"

Jeremy raised an eyebrow, "Well, you did kill a lot of people."

"So have all your so-called friends, not to mention your own sister."

"I—"

"And when you killed my brother, you also killed hundreds of vampires. You don't know who they are, you don't know how they lived or how they became vampires. Some of them could have been like Stefan, living on animal blood. Others could have been like Caroline, unknowingly turned in a plot for revenge. Or even like your sister, turned accidentally due to unforeseen circumstances. You're no innocent, Gilbert, so why don't you drop the act?"

Jeremy fell silent, and breathed out a long gust of air. "I can't feel guilty for what I did," he said finally, "I can't apologize to you, especially not after what you've done to my family."

"I didn't ask for an apology," Klaus replied, his voice holding no trace of venom. "I merely asked you to stop being a hypocrite."

"Yeah," Jeremy looked up at him, "I think I can do that."

XXX

"I've been watching you, you know."

Bonnie's stomach clenched but she was careful not to let any emotion onto her face. "I always knew you were obsessed with me."

"Do you really think you're going to learn anything by following this guy around?" Kol eyed Marcel speculatively, "Because all he's talked about so far is money."

"He owns a bar, and he's involved with more than one business in this quarter," Bonnie muttered back, "Of course he's going to talk about money."

The air around her shuddered slightly as Kol pushed his way further into her space, breaking through the resistance that usually kept ghosts from finding each other. "It's so fascinating."

She sighed resignedly, "What?"

"How the new ones always have hope."

Bonnie frowned as she looked over Marcel and the three men he was talking to, but failed to see who Kol was referring to. "Who's new?"

"You." He came to stand next to her, lounging against the wall with his hands in his pockets, looking as if he didn't have a care in the world. "You still think there's a way out. You still think there's a way you can be saved."

Her voice was low when she answered, "There is a way. I did it for Jeremy, didn't I?"

"Yes, and another murderer gets to rejoin the world of the living, isn't that nice?"

Bonnie whirled to face him, and was startled to see that Kol had moved so that he was hovering behind her. She took an instinctive step back, but then held her ground. "Jeremy didn't deserve—"

"He killed me, and he killed my entire bloodline!" Kol hissed venomously, cutting her off. "That makes him a murderer."

"So are you!"

"Two wrongs don't make a right."

Bonnie spun back around, anger coursing through her veins. "Don't preach about what's wrong and right, Kol. I doubt you know the meaning of the words." She would've continued, but then a hand clasped her shoulder, turning her back around forcefully.

She couldn't stop the gasp from escaping her lips, and even Kol paused, looking shocked. "How does that work?" he muttered, keeping his hand on her shoulder. "It hasn't worked on anyone else." When she met his gaze, the vindictive look had faded from his eyes, to be replaced by genuine curiosity. "Have you been able to touch anyone else here on the Other Side?"

Her mouth felt dry when she answered truthfully, "I haven't tried."

"But you know so many people here," he insisted, "That vampire hunter, Alaric was it? And your grandmother...have you been able to find them?"

"I saw my Grams a couple times," Bonnie took a step backwards, and Kol's hand slipped off her shoulder. She stared at it for a long moment, feeling the loss of another being's touch. When she spoke again, her voice was small. "This place is so big, I haven't been able to find Alaric."

She expected a sarcastic remark, but he kept uncharacteristically silent. Bonnie looked away and her gaze fell on Marcel, who was beginning to gather some papers and move to another room. She followed behind him mutely, though she noticed Kol trailing several paces behind her.

Marcel stopped by an office in the back hallway and tossed the papers inside before locking the door firmly. Then he walked back in the other direction, until he reached a door that led to a closet. Bonnie paused, watching interestedly as Marcel looked over his shoulder before entering. He let it close behind him, and she heard the unmistakable sound of a lock snapping into place.

Kol fell into step beside her and tilted his head, "Bit odd, that." He held his hand out experimentally, watching as it went through the door. "You have to admit, being a ghost has its advantages."

She pursed her lips, staring up at him. "What are you doing?"

He didn't answer for a second, but then he suddenly wrapped his free hand around her wrist and yanked her through the door with him. She stumbled slightly in the abrupt darkness, and they both stilled. "Look," he said, pointing at a panel that had been taken out of the wall. "Marcel must've gone through there."

Bonnie peered through the hidden walkway apprehensively. Ghost or not, her human instincts hadn't left her quite yet. "There's a staircase leading down into some kind of...basement?"

"Or torture chamber." Kol's voice sounded half amused and half eager. "Not scared are you, Bennett?"

She shot him a disgusted look, "You would sound excited at the prospect of a torture chamber."

"Oh ease up, I was only kidding." He raised an eyebrow at her expectantly, "Go on, then."

Bonnie hesitated only a split second but then took a deep breath and began to go walk down, when Kol suddenly grabbed her wrist again and pulled her back. She shot him an annoyed look, "What's your problem?"

To her surprise, he looked nervous. "Don't you feel that?"

"Feel what?"

His eyes narrowed as he gazed down the staircase, "Some kind of...power."

She pulled her arm out of his grasp, feeling the lingering burn of his touch against her skin. Bonnie swallowed, turning her face away so he wouldn't notice the effect he was having on her. "I'll go first then," she said, relieved to hear her voice sound even. "Since you're so scared."

"I'm not—"

Bonnie ignored him, tiptoeing down the stairs even though no one would be able to hear her anyway. It was dark at the bottom, but it wasn't the dusty basement that she had been expecting. She had entered a long hallway, illuminated only by a single lightbulb at the end. She walked silently towards it, reaching a large wooden door which had been left ajar.

She stretched her hand out towards it, and nearly screamed when she felt something brush against her back. "Don't be so jumpy," Kol said, letting his hand drop from her shirt. "Nothing can hurt you anymore, remember?"

"Easy for you to say," Bonnie glowered at him, "Not much could hurt you when you were alive either."

It was too dark to tell, but she could've sworn he rolled his eyes. "Come on, let's go see what nefarious activities Marcel is up to." Kol held out his hand then, a challenge in his eyes as he looked back at her. She reluctantly took it, letting him pull her through the door and into the room behind it.

Then she blinked, wondering what on earth they had walked into.

Kol whistled, "Talk about living large. And under a seedy bar, too."

Bonnie looked around the spacious living room, completely bewildered. It was furnished nicely, with several paintings hanging on the walls—a few, she suspected, were of Klaus' own artistic work. Voices came from an adjoining room, and she walked towards the sound, dragging Kol along with her.

They entered a kitchen, where Marcel stood with a young girl. She was pretty, with jet black hair and dark eyes that stood out against her pale, almost white skin. Only her lips had any color, a faint pink that glistened as she spoke. She was wearing a simple purple dress, one that ended just above her knees, and tall black boots with at least a three inch heel on them, giving the illusion that she was almost at Marcel's height.

The two of them were currently poring over a map that spanned the length of the kitchen counter. Marcel was sipping on a glass of red wine, looking thoughtful as the girl pointed at various markings on the map. "Do you see it?" Kol asked suddenly, "There are spots on the map that are glowing."

Bonnie took a few steps forward, for some reason taking extra care to be as quiet as possible. She knew she was being stupid and overly cautious—but something told her that this girl was a witch, and she wasn't about to bring to their attention that there was an unwanted supernatural presence in the room as well.

"So you're sure these areas are only lighting up from past magic being used, right?" Marcel pointed to several of the glowing spots, "Nothing is being done right now?"

"No magic has been done since you killed Jane-Anne," the girl responded somewhat spitefully, "I already told you."

"Alright, alright, just making sure," Marcel said easily, and then reached into his jacket pocket to produce an envelope. "One thousand, as promised."

She took it, but shifted from foot to foot while biting her lip. "My brother, he..." Her voice trailed off, "The doctors say he's not getting any better. All the money you've given me—my mom, she..."

Marcel heaved a sigh, but Bonnie narrowed her eyes—she didn't know him well, but she knew his type enough to know when he was being sincere—and right now, he wasn't. "Tell you what," he said, reaching into his wallet and pulling out several $100 bills. "Here's another four hundred. All you have to do is keep your word, and there's plenty more where that came from."

The girl nodded, a grateful smile spreading across her face. "Thank you, Marcel."

"Just go out the back way, like I showed you," he called after her as she picked up a bag sitting on the floor and hurried through a door that Bonnie hadn't noticed before. "And don't forget to call me the second that anything on that map changes."

After she had disappeared, Marcel shut off all the lights, humming to himself as he locked the door behind him and headed back up the stairs. Kol turned to look at Bonnie, and it was only then that she realized they were still holding hands. She let go immediately, crossing her arms and backing away. His eyes followed her movements, but he didn't comment on it. Instead, he said blandly, "So, he's using a witch to spy on other witches."

"Yeah," Bonnie grimaced, the words leaving a sour taste in her mouth. "It looks that way."

SALEM

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"I remember you," Silas proclaimed through hooded eyes, "The honorable Elijah Mikealsen, come to save the day." He grinned a little, "But it seems you haven't quite thought this plan through."

"Oh, believe me, I've thought it through quite well," Elijah's gaze flicked over to Elena, and concern tightened the features on his face for a brief instant. "It would seem your prisoners aren't being treated well under your care, Silas. Or am I to assume that was, in fact, the point?"

Silas followed his line of sight to Elena and Damon, both of whom looked like they were on the verge of collapsing. He shrugged apathetically, "They'll survive."

Elijah tensed against the doorway, though he kept his voice level when he replied, "Undoubtedly."

"Back to your plan, though," Silas strolled forward casually, stopping a few inches away from the door. "How was it that you planned on playing the savior when you—as I'm sure you've been able to discern by now—are unable to get in?"

"Oh, I don't need to get in," Elijah responded, twisting his body slightly so that he was leaning sideways instead. "They do."

A girl appeared then next to Elijah, a cold smile on her face. "Silas, I presume."

His smirk faltered, "And you are?"

"Sophie Anne," she announced, striding into the house. "And these are eleven of my closest friends," she gestured behind her as more witches filtered in through the doorway. "Hope you don't consider them rude for not introducing themselves...or for letting themselves in without an invitation. But then again, this isn't your house, is it?"

"That one," Elijah pointed discreetly at Lucy, "She's under some sort of Compulsion, or mind trickery."

"Got it," Sophie Anne brushed past Silas, her eyes focused solely on Lucy as the witches descended upon her, creating a circle as they began chanting.

Elena gaped, grabbing onto Damon in sheer disbelief. He, on the other hand, didn't seem to be paying attention to either her or the witches. "Silas!" he shouted, "Where did he go?" He stumbled forward towards the doorway, getting as close to Elijah as he could. "D-did you see? WHERE IS HE?"

Elijah blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Damon..."

"Katherine," he said wildly, "She's—"

"Not to worry," Elijah interrupted tersely, "Caroline has already filled me in on what happened with the cure." He shot a reproachful glance at Elena, "And although you two shouldn't have kept this from me, I understand why you kept it a secret from Klaus. It makes no difference, however, he knows the truth now."

"It is done," Sophie Anne suddenly announced, and the circle widened, revealing a dazed looking Lucy in the middle. "We have cleared her mind of anything that may have been clouding her senses."

"What's..." Lucy placed a hand to her forehead before sinking down onto the sofa. "What's going on?"

"Invite him in!" Damon rasped, grasping onto the door handle with the last of his strength. "Elijah, he...Silas...going to kill Katherine...sacrifice." Then he fell back against the wall, the last of his energy ebbing away.

Elijah froze.

Lucy's eyes widened in horror, "Yes, I—Elijah! I invite you in!"

He blurred inside without a second thought, looking over at Elena frantically. "Upstairs," she managed to say before sliding onto the ground next to Damon, "First bedroom."

Elijah shot up the staircase, skidding into the first room he saw. Silas stood over the bed, a knife held over Katherine's heart. The blade glowed, golden scripture blazing into fire as words appeared in quick succession and then vanished just as quickly. "No," Elijah shouted, just as the final word appeared. Sacrificium.

Her eyes flew open at the sound of his voice, her gaze finding his in her final moment. But then Silas was swinging the blade down with deadly precision, and her voice gurgled, a faint gasp emitting from her throat. "Katerina!" Elijah rushed forward, throwing Silas backwards with enough force that he went crashing into the wall behind them. "No, no—you can't be dead!"

"Looks like white knight was too late to save the damsel in distress this time," Silas laughed derisively, getting to his feet and clearly unhurt. "She's gone, Elijah. And she died as a human, so...unfortunately you won't be seeing her when the veil comes down." His voice turned mocking, "Tough luck, mate."

Downstairs, Sophie Anne had crouched in front of Elena, looking unnerved. "What's wrong with you two?"

"Stay back," Elena gasped, the veins beginning to protrude from her face. "The blood..."

"Oh, that reminds me," she exclaimed, "Elijah packed a cooler in his car with blood bags." She gestured at two witches to go get it before she turned back to Elena. "You're lucky, you know, that he thought ahead. We didn't have a lot of time to get here, but..." Sophie Anne trailed off as the cooler was brought in, and she shifted aside to help set it down in front of Elena and Damon. "You, ah, don't need us to feed them to you, do you?"

Elena shook her head, weakly opening the latch and grabbing one of the blood bags. She ripped it open with her teeth, and then turned toward Damon, forcing it into his mouth. "Drink up," she whispered to him, tipping his head back until the blood reached his throat. He coughed a few times, until his mouth closed around the bag and he began drinking of his own volition. It was only then that she opened a second bag and began to quench her own thirst.

Sophie Anne watched them curiously, her gaze locking with Elena's. "You love him, don't you?"

"Yes," Elena answered, puzzled. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before reaching for another bag. "Why do you ask?"

"You made sure he drank first, before you thought of yourself. Even though you were starving to death, too."

Damon sighed wearily, reaching over to stroke the back of Elena's wrist. "That's my girl. Always thinking of everyone but herself."

"Well, I—" Elena stopped abruptly, an arrested look crossing her face. "Oh god."

"What is it?" Damon asked, alarmed when he caught sight of her expression. "What happened?"

Elijah came down the stairs at that moment, his tread heavy. He looked like he had aged immeasurably since he'd first arrived at the house. "Silas is upstairs," he said dully to no one in particular, "I was too late. Katherine is dead."

Elena struggled to her feet, moving towards the bottom of the staircase so that she was there when he descended. "Elijah—"

"Don't."

"No," she insisted, tugging on his arm and pulling him towards the doorway. He allowed her to drag him out of the house, looking utterly uninterested in the proceedings. Once they were outside, she grabbed onto both of his arms, her hands holding onto the material of his suit with trembling fingers. "Silas can't know. It would ruin everything."

He tilted his head at her, a dim curiosity burning in his eyes. "Elena, what is this about?"

"Katherine," she breathed out, "Damon fed her his blood."