Hello my Klarophants!

Boy am I surprised I actually finished writing this chapter... to say the least, I've been so busy this week. With the new quarter starting and trying to balance college classes and two jobs, it has been hectic. I'll ramble later after the chapter, but for now, I need to say this BEFORE you read this chapter.

I'm going to say this right now, this chapter will make no sense unless you've seen TO. I realize that I make a lot of references from both seasons and it's hard to explain everything they do in the story without getting off topic or rambling too much in the chapter. So, I will attempt to catch you up on all the important stuff you need to know. So, if you wish to not have the whole series ruined for you (but honestly, the show does it to itself) here's your SPOILER ALERT.

THE (NON)ORIGINALS SPOILER ALERT!

1. After miserably failing to kill all her children in TVD, Esther jas settle with giving them the opportunity to body-swap with a witch so they can sacrifice their vampirism. This has already been performed on Finn, Kol, and Rebekah (she tried to pretend to agree to Esther's terms, but couldn't stop the spell after it started).

2. Finn and Mikael are on the loose right now.

3. Kol and Davina are having a thing, they recently kissed. They're also working together to get rid of Klaus using the "perfect diamond" (the paragon diamond) to concentrate their magic into turning a silver dagger that can be used on him to put him in a slumber.

4. Elijah has been having hallucinations after being trapped by Esther. In his hallucination it reveals he drained Tatia of her blood.

5. Ansel is Klaus' real father that Esther resurrected before the Other Side was destroyed in TVD, but Klausd him when he realized Nope was alive.

6. Finn has an infatuation for Camille.

7. Marcel is trying to rebuild his army of vampires.

9. Jackson is the alpha of the Crescent Wolves, the pack that Hayley belongs to. Apparently, they were born to be together.

And that's all you need to know. HAPPY READING!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, otherwise, the show would've been better.

Chapter 8: The Night of Her Dreams

The sounds of hysterical laughter reverberated in her mind. No matter how hard she tried to make the laughter cease, the booming cackles unceasingly chortled. She pressed her palms firmly against her ears, desperately trying to make it stop, but even then, the demons still screamed in her drums.

"Lyn," a voice cooed. "Sweet Lyn."

She held her breath hoping they wouldn't find her.

For many nights, the witches had gleefully pranced around her in circles. They threw cursed dolls at her, showered her with incense, and chanted vulgar songs. Their expressions never changed. A sick grin always plastered on their faces as they taunted her. Calling her, "Lyn, sweet Lyn" every time.

She wasn't Lyn, she was Rebekah Mikaelson, and Rebekah Mikaelson did not get taunted by lower life beings. They would be too afraid to; as they rightfully should. She was an original vampire, faster and stronger than any creature on the planet. She wasn't some weak witch, she was one of the most powerful beings on the earth, and yet, there she was, Rebekah Mikaelson, cowering inside a closet.

What had her life come to?

It was all Kol's fault, she knew it was. He picked out this body for her, and when their plan went awry she ended up trapped in a mansion that she conveniently was unable to escape.

That Kol.

That conniving brother, always coming up with alternate schemes behind their backs. Though she didn't understand why he had done it, she would make sure to exact her revenge and inform Klaus as soon as she got out. That was if she got out.

Surely Klaus and Marcel would've noticed by now that she hadn't returned to her body and would go looking for her. The real question was: When? When would they find her?

All the doors and windows were boarded up so she couldn't tell what time of day it was, only bleak candles lit the room. She hadn't even had anything to eat since the body swap. She began to question how long she would last, or if she'd even make it out alive.

The closet was ripped open and the deranged face of a witch cowered over her. Rebekah screamed, but the witch grabbed her by the hair and dragged her out laughing.

"Lyn, sweet Lyn. Why must you always hide?" the witch crowed.

Clawing at her hands, Rebekah tried to pry herself free from the witch's grasp.

"How many times do I have to tell you, you crazy bitch? I'm not Lyn, I'm Rebekah Mikaelson!"

"You always find a way to ruin our fun, don't you sweet Lyn?" the witch said as she dragged her down the hall, the carpet rubbing against her skin. "Now we must punish you."

"Wait, what–"

The witch viciously kicked her down the stairs, every step jabbing at Rebekah's frail limbs. When she hit the bottom, the rest of the witches gathered giggling together as they poked at her motionless body.

Rebekah groaned as they rolled her over and tossed her onto a lumpy couch where they proceeded to tie her arms and legs tightly together. She lazily tried to fight back, kicking at them, but they easily overwhelmed her. They started to dance around her, singing words she couldn't understand. Chanting and chanting until their words echoed throughout the house, making the walls and windows shudder. Their eyes rolled back exposing only white under their lids as their vile grins grew wider. They thrashed their arms in the air and stomped their feet on the ground, screaming.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she begged. "WHY?"

The head witch walked over to her while the others continued to chant.

"Don't you see, sweet Evelyn," she whispered through her sick grin. "You're going to set us free."

"What?" Rebekah said confused.

What did she mean?

How could she possibly do that? She couldn't even set herself free from this body, let alone this house.

"You're going to purge the world of all its darkness," the witch giggled.

"Huh?"

"She is coming, and when she does," the witch tilted her head. "She's going to need your body."

Rebekah looked at her horrified at the thought.

The witch blew white powder at her face making her choke. Rebekah scratched at her neck as the powder clogged her esophagus until she blacked out.

Where were Klaus and Marcel?

"So you want to tell us where exactly we're going?" Damon asked as the three strolled into a residential area outside of the French Quarter.

They hadn't been walking for more than five minutes when the older Salvatore decided to start nagging the vampire with questions.

"Don't worry about it, we're just going to a house outside the city," Marcel answered.

"Is that so," Damon muttered. "And what's so special about this house, huh, tough guy?"

Marcel turned and towered over him, but Damon maintained his usual smug grin on his face.

"I'd watch how you speak to me considering that one, I'm older and stronger than you and two, I'm your only chance of finding Klaus."

Stefan stepped in, pushing them away from each other.

"Really guys? Could you guys please save this for later, we still need to find Rebekah."

"Well, maybe I would feel more willing to retrieve the original bitch if I knew what we were getting ourselves into," Damon snapped as he shrugged off Stefan's hand.

He started walking ahead.

"Damon's right," Stefan sighed as they followed after him. "If we're going to help you get Rebekah, we need to know what we're up against here. We need to make sure we actually make it out alive to even see Klaus."

It was quiet for a moment as Marcel continued to trudge along, before he finally answered, "We call it the Fauline house."

"Alright, that's a start," Stefan replied. "Now why would Rebekah be there?"

"Well, to be honest, I'm not completely sure she's in there," Marcel answered, Damon, groaned. "But back in 1914, Klaus sent me to investigate on some recent thefts throughout the city. After some digging, I came to the conclusion that the only person capable of pulling off so many successful hijacks without a trace could only be none other than his brother, Kol."

Damon and Stefan looked at each other knowingly. They both remembered the snarky and conniving original who had an arm for baseball bats. But they figured after the collapse of the Other Side, the original would've been sucked into oblivion with the rest of them and would be gone for good.

"One Christmas night, Klaus and I followed him to the Fauline house where he and two witches broke in to steal a jewel called the Paragon Diamond," Marcel continued. "It's one of the largest diamonds in existence, and is said to contain mystical capabilities."

"So the original has a fetish for jewels, I fail to see the point to this little story," Damon snidely remarked.

"Well, we didn't know what Kol wanted to do with it, but we still had to punish him for his recent thefts, so we took the stone from him when we caught him outside," Marcel went on. "And for conspiring with him, we had a witch trap his two accomplices inside the house for an eternity."

"So Rebekah is in a house of dead witches?" Stefan affirmed.

"Not exactly."

A dark cottage came into view as Marcel spoke.

"Over the years since the Original family left, the Fauline house has come to be inhabited by some of the strangest folk around New Orleans. When I took over, some of the witches fled to the Fauline house to seek refuge, but were completely unaware of the curse."

Damon looked at him suspiciously. "What kind of curse are we talking about here?"

"Once you get in, you can never get out."

They stood outside the gate of the gloomy household. A black spiked gate fenced the estate from all corners. Wooden boards jammed the windows and littered all entryways. Trash was scattered all over the ground, while a little porcelain doll's head sat atop the gate. The placed looked like a dump.

Damon cringed and plugged his nose, "So what's the plan? Run in and grab Rebekah and then get out?"

"Not quite."

The Salvatore brothers both looked at Marcel confused.

"Although we can freely walk in and out of the house, Rebekah cannot."

"And why not?"

"The curse doesn't allow witches to escape. It's a long story, but just know that Kol and Finn are currently in witch's bodies, and I am almost 100% certain Rebekah is too," he insisted. "We had a feeling Esther was planning to make Rebekah do a body jump into one of our friends, so we had Kol prepare another body for her to jump in just in case our plan didn't work out."

"That's such bullshit," Damon interjected. "He's trying to get us killed! All this talk of body swapping and original vampires in witch's bodies make no sense."

Stefan silenced his brother.

"Say what you're telling us is true, how do you explain how Kol was able to prepare a body swap with a witch inside that house without getting trapped inside if he, himself, is a witch?"

"Relax," Marcel raised his hands, trying to calm the seething Salvatore. "I looked into it. The body Kol's inhabiting right now is a direct descendant of the witch we used to cast the spell on the house, so it makes sense he's able to freely roam inside the house without getting trapped."

"Well, that's just fantastic!" Damon threw his arms in the air. "So let me get this straight, the only guy who is capable of lifting the curse is the original we killed!"

"Wait, what?" Marcel exclaimed. "You killed Kol?"

"'It's a long story,'" Damon frowned.

"It was to complete this tattoo to find a cure to–" Stefan tried to explain.

"A TATTOO?" Marcel exclaimed.

"I know, it sounds terrible. But–"

"You do realize he'll be out to kill you, right?"

"Well, we didn't expect him to come back to life, y'know, after killing him and all," Damon groaned. "We seem to have a problem with dead people not staying dead nowadays."

"You're one to speak," Stefan muttered.

"What?" Marcel looked questionably, utterly confused with the whole conversation.

"Like I said," Damon repeated, "It's a long story."

"Well, surely you had a plan on how to get Kol to help us. Our past with him shouldn't interfere with that," Stefan said trying to get back on topic.

"Actually, I wasn't going to ask him to help us," Marcel replied.

"Great. That's just great," Damon grunted. "Let me guess, you just so conveniently happen to have a handy-dandy witch in your back pocket to help us."

"In fact," Marcel reached into his pants pocket. "I do."

He pulled out a cell phone, Damon rolled his eyes.

"She's a friend of mine," Marcel explained. "I messaged her a while ago while I was at the bar."

"Then what's the point of us being here if you already have a witch?" Stefan asked.

"One vampire and one witch against a house full of deranged witches," he pointed out. "It's not exactly a fair fight."

"So we're essentially going to die before we meet Klaus," Damon mocked. "Just promise me when you present my dead corpse to Klaus, please give him a message from me saying that he's a dick for not answering his phone."

"Hey, hey, hey. We can do this," Marcel encouraged. "It used to be just me against all the werewolves and witches of this town. I took over New Orleans with my bare hands and I came out on top. Trust me when I say, 'We can do this.'"

Damon and Stefan glanced at each other doubtfully, trying to decide whether or not to make the gamble.

"Fine," Stefan said. "But you better make damn sure we get out of here alive."

Marcel grinned, "Trust me, we got this."

20 minutes before…

Davina could feel the warmth of his hands melt into hers. The way his hand pressed against her palms made her heart want to leap out of her chest.

Stop it, Davina. You need to focus on the spell.

It was true. She needed to focus. Kaleb, Kol, whoever he was, was relying on her to help him with his spell to put Klaus to rest. She would have plenty of time to daydream about the gorgeous boy when Klaus was asleep and locked up in a coffin in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. But for now, she must concentrate.

As Kol and Davina held each other's hands, the dagger and diamond between them, they continued to chant the spell in unison.

"Thres matos no metas utos los phaysas."

They continually repeated those phrases, every syllable in sync, every vowel emphasized, and every word rolling off their tongue with ease. Kol pulled away and set the objects down, Davina looked at him concerned when the surge of magic between them ceased.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I don't understand," he shook his head. "Why isn't it working?"

"Maybe we need to give it more time," she offered. "It is kind of a complicated spell."

"No," he scowled. "That's not it."

"Well," she went to grab the diamond. "Maybe they gave you a fake diamond, I mean they cou–"

Kol viciously snatched it away from her and she looked at him shocked by his actions.

"No, that's not it," he insisted, he lifted the diamond in his hand, a glow began to emit from under its side. "I can feel the magic flowing through it. It's not the diamond."

"Then maybe–"

"It's you," he bluntly stated.

She looked at him offended.

"Just because you're a thousand years old, you think you're suddenly better at magic than me. For all we know, it's you!"

"I'm sorry, but are you the child of a powerful witch, and have you worked with some of the craftiest witches all your life?" Kol challenged, she glared at him in silence. "That's what I thought. No, you haven't."

Davina scoffed.

"I'm a harvest witch. I'm more powerful than the body of the witch you've taken over."

"How about you worry less about me, and more about perfecting that spell," Kol frowned. "The sooner we do this, the sooner we get rid of Klaus."

"I'm trying!"

"Well, clearly not hard enough little miss harvest girl." Kol moved to look out the window. "It's only a matter of time before Marcel and Klaus realize that Rebekah is trapped somewhere. They'll know it's of my doing. They're going to kill me, you understand that?"

"Yeah, but–"

"They're going to kill me, again. And they're going to keep killing me until they see fit to bring me back," he yelled.

"Then I'll protect you!"

"No," he shook his head. "You can't."

He turned away from her and stared out the window again.

"That's why this time I have to beat them to it. I have to kill them before they kill me."

DING!

Davina's phone rung. She went to check it and saw a text message light up on the screen.

Marcel: Can we talk?

She frowned. Those three words never meant anything good. But she reluctantly replied.

Davina: Okay, what.

Marcel: In person.

Davina: Why?

Marcel: It's important.

She looked at the message annoyed. What was so important he had to talk to her in person? She sighed.

Davina: Fine. Where?

Marcel: I'll send you the address.

Putting her phone in the back of her pocket she said, "Look, I'm going out, okay? I'll be back in a few."

Kol groaned.

"Fine, but we'll start again in an hour."

"Whatever," Davina said as she slipped on a jacket and started to head out.

She didn't understand why he was being like this. Just a week ago they had shared their first kiss together. Sure, she knew he was manipulative and secretive, but he was also sweet and caring. But whenever he talked about his brother, he would change. He would become consumed by his vengeance and take his frustration out on her when things didn't work out.

She could do this, she knew she could. All she had to do was meet-up with Marcel for a while and then go straight back to working on that spell. Simple, right?

Wrong.

Impatiently tapping his index finger on his glass, Klaus listened to the werewolves' leader, Jackson, speak to him while his pack littered the compound. Klaus could hear them messing around with his priceless artifacts, hanging by the stairwell, and leaping off the balcony. They were like a bunch of kindergarteners on their first day of recess, except their playground just so happened to be his home.

As they sat comfortably in his study, Klaus tried to ignore his untamed pack outside.

He pushed his frustration to the back of his mind and spoke, "I realize it's rather strange not to have the bride-to-be here present to discuss these matters, but we need to plan the wedding."

After hearing the myth that if two werewolf clans' leaders marry, then their powers will be shared amongst the pack, Klaus had agreed to a marriage between Hayley and Jackson. It's not like he was emotionally bound to the woman anyway, she just so happened to be the mother of his child.

The only reason the werewolves were obliged to serve Esther was because she granted them an enchanted ring that would help them control themselves during a transformation. No longer would they have to be a slave to the moon. But with Hayley as a hybrid, she could freely turn into a wolf whenever she wished. So if she married Jackson, then there was a possibility that her hybrid capabilities would be shared with the rest of the pack.

"I understand," Jackson said as he repositioned himself on the chair in front of Klaus' desk. "The sooner the marriage, the sooner my pack won't have to work for Esther and Finn anymore."

"Yes, but that also brings up the question of whether or not this little myth of yours is true," he pointed out. "For all we know, it could be a farce."

Jackson nodded knowingly.

"Yes, well, we have no other lead. If we can't at least try, then the wolves are lost forever. We'll just be slaves for the rest of our lives. We need to do this."

"And we shall as soon as it's safe to do so."

"Safe," Jackson scoffed. "When has it ever been safe in New Orleans?"

"True," Klaus admitted. "But better safe than sorry. With my eldest brother and father on the loose, I must advise we wait until we at least know what they're up to."

"Well, the longer we wait, the more at risk my pack's safety becomes," Jackson explained. "Finn will come after my pack, I'm sure of it, and he will seek vengeance for betraying him and your mother. How long do you think it will be before he starts murdering the women and children of our pack?"

Klaus began to tap more impatiently on his glass. How dare this low-life speak to him in such a way, and how dare his mongrels take siege in his home. He was Klaus Mikaelson, the original hybrid, the most powerful being on the planet. No one spoke to him like that, not unless they wanted to die.

He calmed his temper and settled with an intimidating glare.

"I understand the danger your pack will be facing, but I will not risk having our one chance of retaliating be ruined," he gritted through his teeth.

"So you're willing to compromise the safety of mine and Hayley's people just to wait for your brother to attack us first," Jackson mocked.

Klaus' temper began to flare from his raised tone.

"Figures, what would you know about taking care of others? All your life you've only taken care of yourself. The only thing that matters to you is you and your stupid little kingdom," Jackson growled.

"I would watch your tone with me," the hybrid seethed. "You don't understand the complications that you're talking about. You know nothing of my family, nor my plans."

"No," Jackson angrily stood up, Klaus meeting him. "You don't understand what it means to have the lives of people who look up to you in your hands."

They glared at each other, the tension in the room rising.

Jackson spoke again in a low stern voice.

"If you can't understand that. Understand this: I am the Alpha of my pack, and everything I do, I do for them. I will do whatever it takes to protect them and ensure their safety because it is my duty as their leader. If you cannot grant me that privilege then I want no business here."

Klaus thought for a moment, his eyes still bearing into the wolf. There was nothing more he wanted to do at that moment except rip his head off his neck. But he knew he'd have to choose his next words wisely if he was going to maintain the bond between the wolves and them.

"If safety is what you seek, I will personally see to it that you and your pack are properly situated in the city while we wait for an opportunity to marry you and Hayley. But for now, you have to be patient."

It was more of a demand than an offer, but that was all Klaus was willing to give. The hybrid could not be budged. He had a plan and he was not going to stray from it. Rebekah was still lost, Kol was up to no good, Elijah was still not the same, and Finn and Mikael were still free. The king would not make his move until his army was in position. Everything had to be perfect before anything was set in stone.

"Fine," Jackson reluctantly agreed. Klaus relaxed at his admittance. "We will wait, but my people need shelter and protection."

"Very well, I will look into housing for your pack as soon as possible and will notify you when the arrangements have been made."

Jackson nodded and began to leave the room. Klaus followed behind.

He watched on top of the staircase as his pack members almost instinctively stopped what they were doing and followed their leader out the gate. He envied their loyalty to him, their respect for him. He was no more than your average werewolf, and yet, he had the devotion of many. But how?

As soon as he heard the clatter of the gate shut, he walked into his study and closed the door.

For a while, he stood in the middle of the room seething.

Grabbing the legs of a chair, he slammed it against the wall snapping it into a billion splinters. Taking the edges of the sofa, he flipped it over and ripped out its cushions, fluffs of cotton flying everywhere. Mercilessly kicking at his desk, papers scattered the floor as he stomped on the wood several times.

So what, he was angry. What else was new?

What would you know about taking care of others…

He seized a Venetian vase and chucked it at the opposite wall watching it shatter and leave a dent in the wall. Taking another, he did the same thing again.

You don't understand…

Using his clenched fists, he punched at the wall, easily breaking through the wood. Tearing at it, he ferociously tore pieces of it out.

I am the Alpha…

He knocked down the bookcase, its contents thudding to the floor. Crushing the shelves with his heel, the whole frame was brutally distorted to the point where it could no longer stand. Taking the books, he shoved them into the fireplace, igniting the cluster with a single match, watching the inferno eagerly eat at the pages. As the books incinerated in the heat, Klaus continued to throw in more, one book at a time before stopping.

It was his sketchbook.

He hadn't touched it in so long. His breaths began to slow and ease to an even pace, his head no longer throbbed from his rage. He stood there unmoving until he was completely calm again.

He looked back at the worn out sketchbook in his hands. Gently opening it he looked through the pages, careful not to fold the edges. Though the sheets were tinted with age, the paper was still viable.

The book was filled with old sketches of landscapes and people. Some were done with pencil, and others in black charcoal. His fingers brushed against each page, feeling the indentations of his work. Turning another page he paused.

It was a picture he drew of Caroline.

He swore he burned all his sketches of her a long time ago, so how did this one manage to survive?

He remembered sitting in his study the night of the ball and drawing this picture. Every curve of his hand as he drew her did no justice to how beautiful she was that night, and although the night hadn't ended has he had hoped, for whatever reason he couldn't stop thinking about what she said.

You don't connect with people because you don't even try to understand them.

As much as he hated to admit it, she had nailed him the moment she said those words.

He had no need to get to know people unless they were planning to kill him or vice versa. He didn't see it as something necessary, nor something essential to his way of life. Getting involved with other people was dangerous, and the only people he cared about was his family anyway, so what was the point?

He knew he was careless and selfish, and controlling and, heck, throw in a bit cocky, but he didn't care. But hearing her blatantly state that he was, in fact, those things, caught him completely off guard. Here he was wooing her with gifts and promises to see the world, and she shut him down. Very brave of her, he'd give her that, but very foolish as well. Had she forgotten what he was capable of?

He probably could've just plunged his hand into her chest cavity and killed her in that very moment, but he didn't. It would've been too easy to end it right then and there. Klaus had always been one for the chase, and he was out to win her over, and more importantly: Prove her wrong.

Yes, he was master at terrorizing supernatural beings, as well as the non-supernatural, but he was also popular with the ladies, and it only piqued his interest that this particular blonde was immune to his charms. Granted she was spoken for, but as if that would ever stop him from getting what he wanted before. It was both intriguing and frustrating. Had he not saved her life, given her extravagant gifts, and treated her like a queen? Yes, yes, and yes. And yet she still stubbornly refused to fall for his whims.

Women, he thought. Always so confusing.

Although it was his mother who insisted he bring someone to the ball, the truth of the matter was, he only used that as an excuse to invite her. It seemed reasonable. His mother would be happy and he would have a date he could ravish later that night.

But my god, the moment she walked into the room, and his eyes were pulled away from the brunette he was flirting with.

He was speechless. The way her light blonde curls swiveled in spirals while the rest was pinned in a bun, the way her lips seemed to glisten under the lighting and the way her body seemed to perfectly fill that blue gown left him flabbergasted. She was absolutely gorgeous.

But what really resonated with him was when they danced.

Because even when they were exchanging snarky responses to one another, nothing could deny that when they danced together, it was magic. Every twist and turn was enchanting, every push and pull provoking. The mere thought of their bodies touching was enticing. Oh, how he yearned to hold her body close to his, to have his arms wrapped around her waist, and hers around his neck. The desire was almost too unbearable.

He couldn't think of a day when he didn't crave to dance with her again. She made it impossible not to fantasize about it.

Klaus set the sketchbook down with the rest of the books and papers that were now strewn all over the floor. Maneuvering around the trashed area, he headed to a separate room that was connected to his study and opened up a large trunk. Searching through the many trophies he had collected through the years, he finally came to what he had been searching for.

A strapless white dress with pearl beadings that intricately patterned the whole gown.

It was the dress he had lent Caroline for her prom night. It always amused him that she had turned to him, of all people, to help her with her dilemma. But it was worth it. Seeing her in that dress before anyone else could was an honor in and of itself. And the fact that it was his help she had sought for made it even more satisfying to know that she had walked around proudly at her high school dance in a dress he had given her.

He sadly smiled.

If only that night had gone as planned.

Davina briskly walked through the busy streets of New Orleans, barely slowing her pace to get through the clusters of people. She had lived here all her life, getting by was hardly a hassle. Even after being locked up in a church, she never lost her ability to find her way through the crowded streets of her home.

Glancing down at her phone, she reread the address as she did several times to constantly reassure herself she was going the right way. Despite her extensive knowledge of the streets, she had never been to this part of town. Unlike the loud and bustling sidewalks in the French Quarter, this one was more residential. Many of the houses that stacked every corner were rather old-looking, like they had been standing there for several decades, maybe even centuries.

Fearing the worst, she began to walk faster. It was midday, and yet the whole area gave her the creeps. Finally, she spotted three figures in the distance. She slowed her pace.

Who were those people?

She looked back at her phone again reading the address. This was it, but why had Marcel brought company? She figured he wanted to talk about personal matters with her since they hadn't spoken since Rebekah's body swap.

That was it. He was here to ask her about Rebekah. She began to freak out. What if he knew what Kol did, then he'd hurt him, right? And then their plan to get rid of Klaus would be ruined. A dozen thoughts started to swirl in her mind. What should she do?

When she neared them, Marcel turned and greeted her with a big smile.

"Dee! You came!" he opened his arm, hugging her.

"Of course, I did," she smiled as they pulled away.

Davina looked at the two gentlemen next to him suspiciously. One had dark hair and pretty blue eyes and wore a black leather jacket over a dark grey shirt, and dark denim jeans. The other had hazel brown hair and wore a similar outfit to the other but in dark brown.

Marcel noticed her eyeing his two companions.

"Oh, yeah," taking her by the arm, he introduced them. "Davina, this is Damon," motioning to the dark-haired one with the gorgeous eyes, "And this is Stefan," motioning to the one with the funny looking hair.

"Hi," Stefan nodded.

"Hi," she returned.

Briefly smiling at her, Damon turned his attention to Marcel.

"Are we going to do this or not?"

Marcel frowned at him, before returning his attention to Davina.

"These are some friends of Klaus."

Davina gave a disgusted look.

Oh great.

"I would hardly call us that," the brown-haired vampire remarked.

"If you mean trying to kill us and our friends is something that a buddy would do, call us 'Best Friends Forever!'" Damon joked.

"So you're not friends with Klaus?" she questioned.

"No, we want him dead. But seeing he's the sire to our bloodline, we can't exactly kill him," Damon muttered to himself.

Davina's eyes widened.

They're vampires!

Stefan jumped in.

"We need something from him and Marcel wouldn't agree to bring us to him unless we helped him–"

"Look," Marcel interrupted seeing how confused she was getting. "I need a little favor. You remember Rebekah, right?"

There it was. She knew it. Marcel wanted her help to save Rebekah just as she suspected. She looked to the side and studied the house they stood in front of. That must be it. That must be the Fauline House. She hesitantly looked back at her friend.

"What do you need?"

"Well, if I'm right, Rebekah is trapped in that house as we speak. That would explain why she hasn't returned. All we need to do is run in there and get her."

"But I can't go in there, I'll get trapped!" she exclaimed.

Marcel looked at her questionably.

How did she know that?

He didn't recall telling her anything about the curse set on the Fauline House, but Damon interrupted his train of thought.

"Yeah, Marcel," the dark-haired Salvatore sided next to the witch. "How will she save dear sweet Rebekah without being trapped?" He leaned over to her and said, "Don't worry, little witch, he's been keeping secrets from us too."

Marcel moved forward.

"Get away from her, Damon."

Stefan intervened holding him back while Damon smugly watched.

"No, tell us the full plan," Stefan joined. "How are we going to save Rebekah without getting killed?"

"She doesn't need to step into the house to save her," Marcel explained. "She just needs to stay outside the door and lift the curse once we find Rebekah. That's it."

Davina looked at him uneasily.

"Well, then what are we waiting for," Damon said. "Let's do this, I'm not getting any younger!"

Stefan frowned at him.

They began to walk towards the house, but Davina grabbed Marcel's arm.

"Wait," she yelled, they turned to look at her. "How do we even know if I can lift the curse? I've never–"

Marcel knelt down, and encouragingly squeezed her shoulders, "Trust me. I've seen what you can do. You stopped the white oak stake from killing Klaus." Stefan and Damon looked at her astounded. "I know you can do this," Marcel assured her. "You're a harvest witch, Dee, you can do anything."

Davina smiled at his words, but she still had some doubt lingering. Taking her hand, Marcel led her to the cottage. Though the looming house drew nearer and nearer, she felt safe as she clung to Marcel. They walked up the front porch until Marcel turned back to his companions.

"You guys got the plan, right?"

"You run in, get Rebekah, then witchy here casts some magical spell to allow her to cross, and we get to drag an original's ass down to Mystic Falls with us," Damon grinned.

"Oh I'm not going alone," Marcel smirked. "One of you is coming with me. Got to make sure you guys are holding up your end of the deal."

Damon snarled at him.

"He's right," Stefan moved to stand next to Marcel. "I'll go."

Damon rolled his eyes.

"Typical Stefan always has to be the saving grace."

"Then it's settled, we'll go inside and find Rebekah while you stay out here with Davina."

"I don't need to be babysat," Davina frowned.

"That's not what I meant," Marcel said calmly. "I just need to make sure–"

"That I don't run away," she finished.

"No, that's not what I mea–"

"C'mon," Stefan pushed. "We need to do this now. We've wasted too much time already."

Marcel regrettably looked back at her, then nodded at Stefan.

They ripped the wooden boards that were nailed to the door and threw them aside. Stefan then kicked the jammed entrance, the doors flinging open and slamming against the walls.

Inside the air was thick with musk, and there was very little light, only the dim flickering light of a few candles. Dust covered the furniture, and hordes of books and clothing littered the floors. Marcel and Stefan hesitantly looked at each other.

Motioning his arm towards the opening, Damon said, "Ladies first."

Marcel frowned and shoved him aside, "Let's go."

Stefan and Marcel walked into the dark house unbeknownst what awaited them. But just before they disappeared into the darkness, Damon swore he heard laughter from upstairs.

He remembered sitting in his car outside the Lockwood estate, his hands gripping the steering wheel. He didn't remember driving there or when the precise moment he decided he was going to come here. All he remembered was the torture that ate at him as he sat lonely in that empty house. Though she had left long ago, he could still smell the sweet scent of her on his body. Oh, how he wished he had never let her go.

He remembered that much, but how did he get here? He didn't recall rushing into his car and jabbing the key into the ignition, or firing up the engine so he could drive like a madman down the road all the way here. Why was he even here? What could be waiting for him inside? …Maybe a certain blonde vampire.

Sure, he might've eavesdropped on Rebekah and Elijah's conversation after storming out of the room in anger, and he might've heard his brother's challenge for his sister to spend a day as a human. And he also may or may not have overheard her telling him she'd be attending prom and an after party at the Lockwood's house just so Elijah knew where to find her and make sure she was holding up her end of the deal. But there was no evidence he did that because at the time, he was a little angry at his siblings. But even in his fit of rage, he had just caught that teeny bit of information of where Caroline might be after prom. And although during that time between leaving angrily and arriving at the mansion he had produced a master plan with Silas to foil his siblings deal, it was never in his agenda to arrive here.

And yet, here he was, sitting out in his car, gripping the steering wheel while staring at the Lockwood mansion.

This is ridiculous, he thought.

He began to thrum his fingers on the wheel, his thoughts contradicting each other. On one hand, he wanted to see her, just one more time before he left. But on the other hand, he knew he was being foolish and that he should just leave their relationship where it was before anything got too serious. He had hoped to catch one last glimpse of her at the prom when he came to distract his sister, but she had already left.

She hugged him, wasn't that enough?

He sighed.

Of course, it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. Not until she was his forever, and only his. But he knew that would never happen. In the back of his mind, he knew she'd never want to be with him because no matter how many times he'd come to save her and no matter how much attention he'd give her, no amount of luxurious gifts could erase what he'd done.

He killed her best friend and her aunt to complete a ritual, he sired her boyfriend and killed his mother, then ran him out of town, and the two times she almost died was because of him. And because even if there was a small chance that they might be together, he knew he'd mess it up. He always messed it up. His family resented him and it's not like he had any friends. He was alone.

Infinitely and utterly alone.

He started to put the key back in the ignition to drive away, turning on the engine so the rumble of the car reverberated. He changed the gears and prepared to leave, but the moment he rested his hands on the wheel again, he stopped.

He remembered seeing her walk into the ballroom in the pretty blue dress he got her, wearing her white gloves and the bracelet he gave her. He remembered seeing her in her little red dress at the high school Decade Dance and the lovely way the lose threads dangled from her body. He remembered dancing with her, feeling her body inches away from his. The way she gently rested her hand on his shoulder and how her delicate hand fit so perfectly in his as they swayed to the music.

Every twist and turn enchanting, every push and pull provoking.

Killing the engine, he got out of the car and started heading up the drive way to the front porch of the house. If he was going to leave forever, he was going to at least say good-bye. The parking lot was still empty, so he knew the high school dance wasn't over yet. But he figured Caroline would get to the after party early to help set-up.

The plan was simple: Say good-bye to Caroline and… and then what? He hadn't thought that far yet. Actually, he hadn't even planned on being here in the first place. But he didn't care. He just had to see her, just one last time because even if he thought it was a foolish or a ridiculous thing to do, he knew, all he wanted before he left was one last dance.

He was about to head up the front porch steps when he heard the front door open. Like a teenage boy scared of getting caught after sneaking out of his girlfriend's house, he shamefully hid behind a bush. A figure walked out and shut the front door. The moment Klaus recognized the figure to be his former hybrid, he rushed behind him.

"Was it worth it," he said gravely. "To see her smile, to make her dream night come true?"

Tyler turned to look at Klaus, horror in his eyes, but he kept his mouth shut.

"Was. It. Worth. It," he reiterated.

But Tyler refused to say anything back.

"In the shared interest of giving Caroline the night of her dreams, I'm going to allow you five seconds before I rip your heart out of your chest." He began to count, "Five, four, three…"

Tyler disappeared and Klaus was left alone on the front porch. He looked towards the direction he had left and then back at the front door. Caroline was in there, probably just as stunning as always. He eyed the door knob, tempted to go in, but stopped himself.

She didn't want him, nor would she ever. One prom dress didn't make up for all his wrongs, it didn't make him her best choice, and it would never amount to having Tyler present on her dream night. She could have no dress and not even go to the dance, but if Tyler was there, that would still make the perfect prom night for her. Walking down from the steps he headed back to his car. He started the engine, and drove out of the drive way, and began to head home.

He had to go pack, big plans waited for him in New Orleans.

Yay! The end of the chapter. This chapter was intended to be way longer, but I decided it was too much to pack into one chapter and frankly, I just don't have time. I feel an obligation to you guys to post within a week and there was just no way I could fit everything I wanted before Sunday. So, I cut it short. Plus, I have this thing about leaving chapters on a cliffhanger or on a sweet note. I've come to realize my chapters are getting longer and longer because there's just so much I want to include. Maybe one day I'll be able to.

On a side note, I've been anticipating to write this Klaroline scene. I know I had the prom scene in Caroline hallucinations, but there was still more I wanted to add. Like I can't be the only one who was wondering why Klaus was at the Lockwood mansion on prom night, right? I mean, first, he came up with a plan to foil Elijah and Rebekah's little deal and then left to go to the prom to distract Rebekah while Silas pretended to ber her to get the cure from Elijah. And that's where Klaus' plans for the night should've ended. And yet, for some reason, he shows up at the Lockwood mansion knowing that Caroline would be there.

Why?

I'd like to think that Rebekah was planning to go there to continue to pretend to be human and Klaus overheard her and that while he was driving home after successfully ruining her plans, he thought about seeing Caroline. I'd also like to think that the reason he showed up was that he wanted to share one last dance with Caroline. It's a shame they didn't dance. I feel like seeing Tyler is what changed his mind because it reminded him that she wasn't in love with him. And I think it was that realization that gave him the push to leave for NOLA thinking she wouldn't miss him. So yeah, maybe originally he planned to say goodbye and share one last dance with her, but that was all thrown away.

Alright, done rambling for the night. Hope you enjoyed the chapter!

QUESTION OF THE CHAPTER: Who do you think the witches are referring to as "she"?