A\N: I know I'm not posting as much as I had hoped I'd be able to, but I am keeping with this story. Your patience is very much appreciated.

"Once you lose someone

it is never exactly the same person who comes back."

Caroline was happy to see Lizzie already at the table in the courtyard, even though Josie was nowhere in sight. It wasn't a surprise, after the night before she doubted Josie would even look at her.

"Good morning," Caroline said.

Lizzie looked up from her newspaper with a smile. "Good morning."

"Where is everyone?" Caroline asked once she was seated across from her daughter.

"Kol hasn't come home yet," Lizzie answered absently as her attention returned to the paper in her hand. "Marcel called daddy early and told him they had a problem, found some vampires dead in the Quarter or something. Hayley is with the Crescents, don't know where Elijah went."

"What about Josie?"

"School."

She looked up in surprise, Klaus let her go to a public school? "Why aren't you in school?"

Lizzie shrugged. "I have tutors. Josie begged daddy for weeks to let her go to an actual school for senior year."

"You didn't want to?"

She made a face. "No."

The gate opened and shut loudly, Kol walked into the courtyard, jacket slung over his shoulder. He dropped into the seat next to Lizzie, and kicked his feet up on the chair on the other side of him.

"Morning, Liz."

Caroline paused at the name, she hadn't realized anyone called her that. It sounded strange coming from him, but still there was satisfaction in it, knowing her mother had a connection to her daughter, however small it may be.

Lizzie made a face. "You reek of alcohol."

He leaned towards her and exhaled.

"Kol!" She swatted at him with her paper.

He smirked, and grabbed a pastry from one of the trays on the table.

Ric walked down the stairs, and took the seat next to Caroline. "I think I need the floor plans to this house."

Lizzie smiled. "It won't seem so big once you get used to it."

"Let's hope they don't stay around long enough for that to happen," Kol said.

"Don't be a dick," Hope said as she walked in, her jeans already covered in grease at nine in the morning. She nodded at Ric and Caroline. "Morning."

Ric nodded back.

Caroline smiled, Hope seemed to be a middle ground, unwilling to make blind judgments. "Good morning."

Hope leaned on Lizzie chair. "Hey, Lizzie, do you know where dad went... or how long it will take him to get back?"

She didn't look up from her paper. "Don't."

"Don't what? It was only a question."

"You want to sneak out five days into your punishment," she glared up at her sister, "don't."

"Why do you always take dad's side?" Hope groused.

Lizzie shrugged, and sipped at her coffee. "I would take your side if you were ever right."

Kol smirked at the casual barb.

"Lizzie," Caroline jumped at Masha's sudden appearance. The woman nodded towards one of the halls off the courtyard. "Damien is waiting for you in the study."

She got up quickly, her half-eaten breakfast left without thought. Caroline didn't miss the look of confusion Hope shot her uncle, or the disgust that twisted Kol's mouth.

"Who's Damien?" Ric demanded before Caroline got the chance.

"A witch," Hope answered with a frown, her eyes not quite focused on either of them.

"He's crazy!" Kol snarled. "The kid's been obsessed with Lizzie since they were twelve. He just can't seem to get it through his thick head that she isn't interested."

"I can't hear anything," Hope muttered irritably to herself.

"Why hasn't Klaus done something about him?" Caroline asked, unsure of exactly what 'something' would be.

"He's a witch," Hope repeated. "Young, but one of the most powerful in the coven, there's even talk he could be the next regent. Killing him would seriously piss off the coven."

"And Lizzie insists he's harmless," Kol added as he glared at the table, "so we do nothing."

Hope glanced down the hall Lizzie had disappeared into. "What do you think he wanted to see her about?"

"Couldn't possibly guess," he muttered venomously.

Any other Monday Klaus would have been livid at Marcel for demanding his presence before he had even had breakfast with his daughters, today was an exception. He didn't know what to say to Caroline after their argument, and to avoid more confrontation he decided to simply avoid her. Dealing with whatever Marcel was throwing a tantrum over was the best excuse he had.

The streets were scattered with college students on early spring breaks. Soon the city would be flooded with drunken twenty year olds, and he wasn't sure where Caroline would stand on the fact he killed three to ten men every spring break season for being too presumptuous with his daughters.

The thought annoyed him, they had a life and what opinions Caroline may or may not have on it should make no difference.

"Klaus!" Marcel stood across street in the mouth of an alleyway, he looked around nervously, his body angled to hide the alley from the view of passerbys.

He crossed the street, coming to stand beside his former ward. "This had better be important, Marcellus."

He moved to the side and Klaus saw the grey corpse, heart beside it. A vampire. There was no visible daylight talisman. A nightwalker. Apparently he would have to explain to Marcel what qualified as an emergency.

"Kid was turned a couple years back—"

"You have ten seconds to explain why this is worth my time or I will have to assume it's not."

Marcel nodded down the alley to another body he hadn't noticed due to the trash can partially concealing it. A singed pant leg caught his attention as they moved to study the second vampire.

Deep pits in the skin exposed the cooked organs inside, the heart blackened to the point it would crumble to ashes at the slightest touch.

"Smell it?"

"No accelerant." Klaus crouched to examine the burns. They were too even, no place on the body was significantly worse.

"There's no point of origin, he just burst into flames," Marcel said.

Annoyance curled his mouth into a snarl. Witches.

Klaus flashed away from the bodies, stopping on the cement staircase overlooking the Cauldron's open air market. People drifted from stand to stand, children who would only grow up to be a thorn in his side followed their parents through the crowded space.

"Witches of New Orleans!" Two hundred plus people turned to him, a myriad of expressions ranging from fear to confusion to anger. "I think some of you have become forgetful of our arrangement. I allow you to practice witchcraft, and you don't interfere with my business. Simple, yet I find myself having to remind you."

A particularly irritating witch moved through the crowd, Vincent stepped onto the stairs, coming to stand next to him on the landing.

Twenty years hadn't changed the man much. Magic could be quiet useful when one wanted to avoid the toll of time. Though his magic could do nothing to help him if Klaus decided to separate his heart from his body, and he had been tempted to do so often.

The fondness his daughter had for him was all that had saved the other man's life many times. Vincent being a mentor to Hope had not been intended, yet they seemed to gravitate towards each other. And Klaus also had to admit he helped Hope control her abilities. Not to mention he was a voice of reason she actually bothered to listen to.

It always came back to him being worth more alive than dead.

That didn't mean it wasn't grating when he walked right up to him, crossing his arms and giving him a tired look, like how a parent would look at a child throwing a tantrum. "What's this about, Klaus?"

He folded his hands behind his back, taking a few steps closer. "A vampire was found dead, it appears a witch was responsible."

He tilted his head slightly, unimpressed by his explanation. "What makes you think that?"

"They were burned alive. Witches seem to have a penchant for fire."

"Sure they weren't nightwalkers who stayed out a little too long? Sun can do some nasty damage to your kind."

Klaus clenched his jaw. "I'm sure."

Vincent nodded, stepping back. "I'll take care of it."

He stepped closer, enough to invade his personal space. "See that you do." He flashed away, leaving Vincent to deal with his own.

Damien gave her a curious look as she lit the sage. Once the smoke was curling steadily towards the ceiling she smiled apologetically. "My sister has a habit of listening in on private conversations," Lizzie explained.

"What exactly is this about, Elizabeth?" He gave her one of those looks. The way he seemed to see through her was frightening, as if he knew every horrible thought and stupid mistake she had ever made.

"I think Josie's keeping something from me," she told him, head held high. She refused to be seen as anything less than his equal. "I want your help figuring out what it is."

His head tilted as he studied her, a mocking half smile appeared. "Isn't that what your little psychic private line is for?"

Lizzie grit her teeth, and spat out her admission. "She's been turning it off."

"Aw," his expression shifted into false sympathy, "sissy dearest has been cutting ties, has she?"

"She's been keeping secrets," she corrected, "I want to know what they are."

"Why should I? I'm going for regency, helping a Mikaelson hardly betters my chances." Damien circled her, his fingertips grazed her hair. "Of course, if you were a member of the coven—"

"I already have a coven." That was unnegotiable.

"Mmm, yes, your sisters," his voice dripped with distaste. "The liar and the affront to nature."

She shot him a wilting look. "If you can't help me I will find someone who can."

For a long moment he only returned her gaze, unaffected by her anger, then he shrugged. "Give me your hand."

Lizzie held out her hand. Damien gave her an exasperated look and grabbed her hand, threading their fingers. His magic was as disconcerting as the rest of him. It was hard to explain why, but it felt thicker than other people's life-forces. Like taking a drink of what you thought was coke only to find out it's maple syrup.

The link burned in the back of her mind. It felt wrong to allow someone else access to their connection. Desperation made her push away the sense of violation. There was something wrong with Josie, she could feel it, she had to know.

Magic continued to seep from his palm into hers, becoming harder to swallow the stronger the connection became. Pain spiked through her head, images flooded into her mind as her eyes rolled back.

Josie brushing her hair. Walking to school. Talking to Eli. Sitting in history class as a headache grew.

Lizzie's eyes opened as she ripped her hand out of his grasp, panting from reliving four hours of Josie's day in five seconds. Guilt twisted in her chest as she realized what she had done. Everything she'd seen was normal. No secret. No fear. No reason to invade her sister's privacy.

Damien took in her remorseful look with a half smile. "Sorry, Elizabeth, no... malicious powers at work."

She took a steadying breath, avoiding his eyes. "Thank you for your help. Masha will see you out," she said, her voice quiet and breathless.

Not caring about his reply, she walked quickly out of the room, away from what she had done and the only witness to her actions.

Josie shook her head in amusement as Rio told her about her fight with another wolf. "Have you considered not saying everything that pops into your head?"

Rio frowned thoughtfully. "No," she finally decided, a smile breaking through the faux seriousness.

The school was mostly deserted as they made their way to the locker room to change for practice. Her ringtone echoed through the empty hall, she took it from her pocket to ignore the call, hesitating when she saw the number.

Rio looked back at her, dark ponytail falling over her shoulder. "Everything alright?"

"Uh, yeah, you go ahead," she nodded down the hall, "I have to take this."

"Coach will kill you if you're late," Rio reminded her as she walked away.

Josie waited until she was out of hearing range to answer. "Hey, is something wrong?"

"Darling, that's not the first thing you should think when you see my number," Lucien said.

The smile in his voice eased her initial concern. She leaned against the wall. "Want to tell me why you called then?"

"I was thinking Brazil this weekend."

Josie stared at the row of lockers in front of her. "What?"

"Me and you. Brazil. This weekend. It isn't that complex a plan, dear."

She rolled her eyes. "I can't go to another country."

"New York?"

She couldn't help the laugh that left her lips. "I can't leave for an entire weekend."

"New York's hardly a day trip."

She bit her lip as she smiled. "Lucien, what would I tell my dad?"

"You're a legal adult?"

She wished it could be that easy, but no matter how old she got she would always be Klaus Mikaelson's daughter. The target on her back didn't have an expiration date. Going to another state, even another city, without someone from her family would be a huge risk. Not to mention the danger it would put Lucien in—

A whistle cut through her thoughts, she looked down the hall to see Coach impatiently waiting. "Well, your Highness, will you be gracing us with your presence?"

"I have to go, I'm sorry," she said hurriedly. "See you tomorrow, promise."

She hung up, shoving her phone into her gym bag and hurrying to the locker room with a muttered apology to Coach.

Caroline had spent the day worrying about Lizzie. After her meeting with Damien she had holed up in her room, sending away both Kol and Hope when they went to check on her. She was caught between wanting to find out what had happened or giving her her space.

Decision made, she thought, standing in front of Lizzie's door.

Slowly but deliberately she lifted her hand and rapped her knuckles against the door. Muffled by the thick wood, it was much quieter than she had expected. Repeating the motion harder she heard a sigh from inside the room.

"For the last time, he didn't do anything!" She heard Lizzie stomp across the room. "I just want to be alone!" She swung open the door, her irritation turning to surprise when she saw Caroline.

"Just checking on you, you've been in here awhile."

She nodded, a bit bashfully. "Sorry, I thought you were Kol."

"You guys fight a lot?"

"Only when he's being annoying." She shrugged. "Oh, sorry," she opened the door wider. "Come in."

Caroline walked in. Her eyes widened. It was three times the size of her old bedroom. The window to her right was covered by a white trellis, fake roses wrapped around it. There was a large canopy bed— literally, fake trees stood on either side of the round bed— on a platform in the back of the room.

The other side of the room was scattered with easels, papers, and other art supplies, some of which Caroline didn't even know the make of.

All four walls covered with murals of hedge mazes, trees, and vine choked arches.

"This is..." She shook her head, "wow."

She smiled. "When I was little I wanted a garden, since we didn't have a yard daddy and Kol made my room into a garden instead."

"You paint?" She nodded towards the mess of brushes and canvas.

"Yes," she admitted shyly. "I'm not as good as dad, but yeah, I paint."

"Can I...?"

"Uh, sure," she fiddled with the charms on her bracelet, "yeah. Go ahead."

Caroline went to the desk, carefully picking up one of the sketches. It was Hope, a wrench in her fist, standing beside an old car. It looked like a page torn out of a comic book, a speech box at the top of the page read "Work, M$therF#cker!"

Lizzie cringed when she saw which one she had picked up. "That's, uh—"

"It's really good," Caroline said. It wasn't hard to imagine Hope screaming profanities at an inanimate object. She set the paper down, picking up the one that had been under it. Josie, standing on a city street, buildings towering around her. New York, maybe Chicago.

She found herself staring at the smiling girl. She had seen Josie smile like that in the last two days, at Klaus, at Lizzie, at Kol, but never at her. Her throat felt tight as she studied each line, eventually setting it down, and giving Lizzie a small smile. "That's nice."

She didn't reply, only gave her a sympathetic look.

Caroline quickly picked up a different paper, ignoring the sting of unshed tears in her eyes. Kol. Of course. All that was missing was a literal idol.

She set it back on the desk. "You two are pretty close, huh?"

Lizzie nodded. "Accepting my magic was easier when he helped me. I actually desiccated his hand the first time I met him."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. I was trying to ask him a question while he was leaving a message on the phone, and I got angry. I grabbed his hand and accidentally siphoned the hell out of him."

Caroline grimaced. "How mad was he?"

"Not mad, he was really excited." Lizzie smiled. "It was the first time anyone treated our abilities like a gift instead of a curse. We spent the rest of the night going over grimoires about our kind, and spells only we could do."

She felt a twinge of guilt. Her first reaction to her daughters power hadn't been as enthusiastic.

Bonnie had worked with the girls, taught them the basics, but they never explored anything specific to their gifts. Never treated them differently. Maybe that was a mistake. They were different, unique. Caroline should have embraced that.

Caroline smiled. "Right, well, I'll let you get back to whatever it is you were doing before I interrupted."

"Alright," she agreed. "Josie should be home any minute."

"Okay." She left the room. The floor creaked under her feet as she walked down the hall to the concrete stairs. It was a nice house, well preserved. There was an elegance in its simplicity. Whoever had built it had known what they were doing.

Wait. Had Klaus built it? It made sense, it seemed to be planned to last. The kind of attention to detail that came from someone used to thinking in the long-term.

Preoccupied with her thoughts she didn't notice the man himself walking up the stairs until they met on the landing.

They both stopped, both unsure where they had left things.

If he wouldn't break the awkward tension, she would. "Lizzie said some vampires were killed in the Quarter. Did you figure out why?"

Klaus' fingers drummed impatiently on the banister. "Yes. It's nothing for you to worry about," he said, "I've taken care of it."

Caroline's brow pinched. "'Taken care of it'?"

"Yes. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go beg forgiveness from my daughter for cancelling her favorite trip of the year." Caroline didn't stop him as he brushed past her.

"Faces all around me they don't smile, they just crack," Hope nodded along with the song that had come on her favorite throwback station.

The new master cylinder had finally come in, Luke had dropped it off though hadn't stayed long. Word had spread that the oldest Mikaelson daughter wasn't allowed visitors, and with Luke's already precarious position in her father's good graces he hadn't risked sticking around too long.

Upstairs Lizzie had let someone in to her room. Caroline. Interesting that she let her in and not Kol. He was always the one who got through to her. Maybe that would change now that the blonde was here.

Josie had done well without a mother. Lizzie had a harder time letting go of what could have been. Rarely did she mention it, never, in fact. It was the wistful looks every time a commercial featured a mother and daughter, or the gloom that hung over her on mother's day each year.

Hopefully Caroline and Ric would be the people her sister needed. Both of her sisters, Lord knew Josie needed a parental figure that could tell her no.

"So give me something to believe. 'Cause I'm living just to breath..." The part in front of her went out of focus. Dizziness swirled her thoughts, the world tilted around her. Grabbing the workbench to keep balance, she felt the familiar tug of a vision. Like waves lapping over her conscious, pulling her into dark waters.

Just as soon as it had come it disappeared. The last notes of the song told her it had been longer than it seemed. The exhaustion hit her even though the vision never had.

She flicked off the radio, and left the garage. She barely made it to her bed before collapsing. Visions were more draining than spells or rituals, and she never had a choice in when they happened.

Considering the things she saw had saved lives on more than one occasion she would take the inconvenience.

It had been eight minutes since Klaus had called the bartender and his glass still sat empty on the table in front of him. This was precisely why he had a bar in his home, but drinking there meant hearing Caroline walking around the house talking to herself. Normally her mumbling wouldn't have bothered him. In fact, he usually enjoyed it.

Now it was a reminder that she was finally there, and he couldn't even talk to her. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen.

He feared all she could see when she looked at him was the time she lost with her daughters. This might be the one thing they couldn't come back from.

Sacrificing her best-friend, turning her boyfriend, putting her life in danger— twice. None of it was unforgivable. Yet the one time he put someone else before himself, he probably irreparable damaged their relationship.

A bottle hit the table. Rebekah dropped into the chair opposite to him. "Drinking alone?" She smiled. "I haven't seen you this miserable in years."

"I'm glad you're amused," he muttered, refilling his glass.

Her smile vanished, and she looked suddenly tired as she ran her fingers through her hair. "You're panicking."

"No, I'm awaiting the inevitable outcome of my children choosing them. No matter that they weren't there—"

She slammed her hands on the table. "They're here now, Nik. They're trying. God knows I have no love for that woman, but have you stopped to consider that they might be the only people on this earth that love those kids as much as you do?"

"And if they leave again? It was one thing to know they had biological parents somewhere, it's another to know them, to love them, and then lose them."

"They seem willing to risk that," she stood, looking at him sadly, "but if you can't get pass this, you might be the one losing her."

His sister walked away, leaving him to dwell on the thought. Was it a bad thing? That two of the people he loved most in the world she loved too? He looked down at the amber liquid in his glass. Things could be different this time, better.

He downed the glass and stood. It was time to go home.

Soundtrack:

Scene six:

Believe — The Bravery

Scene seven:

The Courage Or The Fall — Civil Twilight

A\N: Next chapter there will be a longer klaroline scene. Thanks for reading! Please review. The quote is Sharon Olds