[Edit: 3 Oct 2021]

[A/N: It's honestly not as bad as I originally though it was… Also, finally our MCs meet?]

"Ah. Klaus is…" Caroline purses her lips and her eyes flicker to Elena momentarily before giving a shrug.

"Yes?" I prompt, annoyed that it should take the vampire so long to begin the discussion. And I thought I was a useless conversationalist. My skin prickles and I clench my teeth to stave off the urge to growl.

"He is one of the Original vampires," she blinks and twitches, hands loosening and contracting around her mug. Licks her lips. "An original hybrid, the Original Hybrid,"

I nod slowly, black hair tickling my cheeks, finally giving in to the urge to shove it behind my ear. "Everyone keeps saying that, 'hybrid' and 'Original'. What do they mean?"

Elena butts in as she slides a plate across the table toward me, "The Original vampires are the first vampires to be created." She settles into the open seat next to Caroline and leans on the table, cradling her chin in her palm. "The Mikaelson family make up the Originals, of which Klaus is one of the few children. He is the most feared and hated of the lot according to what Elijah told me, and judging from what I've seen myself I just might agree."

"I think Mikael was probably worse," Caroline chimes although she seems reluctant to admit this and pouts. "He did try to kill everyone,"

"He didn't succeed," Elena points out and sighs deeply, "Klaus on the other hand…" her face scrunches up and for the first time since I'd met her, Elena does not look as young and pretty as she seemed, her features suddenly remind me of the angular, glass-like appearance of the Cullens.

The blonde pats the brunette's cheek affectionately, "It's over though,"

The latter mutters. She clearly had not meant her statement to be heard, but my hearing was on par with the whisper of dust twirling in the morning light. "It will never be over,"

This, I believe, was yet another thing to put on my waiting list of questions. In the meantime, I was aware that the topic had changed rather easily. "How are they the 'Originals'? How can you be sure? There are many vampires, from all over the world; I've seen them with my own eyes,"

Caroline nods, "The Originals were formed by witches; Esther, Klaus's mother, was a witch and with the help of other witches turned her family into vampires. They are the Originals because they were the first, but that doesn't mean that anyone stopped them or others from turning people into vampires." She waved her hand in front of herself and Elena, "Take Elena and I, we are both products of vampire blood, both pure and diluted through centuries."

"Witches?" I question with a frown, throwing magical women into the mix was pushing the line, yet considering how I turned into a wolf on occasion and the two women before me sucked blood for a living it may have not be too far fetched.

"Yes, witches,"

Caroline's face is so dead pan and solemn that it makes me swallow any rebuffs that such things couldn't exist. "But how does any of this tie in with hybrids?" I pause, reluctant to admit my complete ignorance. "What exactly are hybrids?"

In my head I imagine Nessy, her human eyes and vampire shrewdness.

"Wolves," Elena says.

"And vampires," Caroline adds, "Wolves and vampires mixed into one terrifyingly strong creature,"

As my mind processes the words, I have the most ghastly image of Jacob and a grown up Renesme having a child, it's almost enough to make me gag. Who would ever want to procreate with Jacob? The mere idea is absurd and I silently hope that Edward will grow a brain and keep a firm hand on the hormonal wolf. As much as I internally celebrate at Renesme finding love and, maybe, being able to have a normal family, I certainly do not wish her any such ill as to have the misfortune of ending up with Jacob Black forever.

It reminds me momentarily that I will probably never have children of my own. And although it stings, it offers me solace that I will never have to fear bringing a child into this messed up world of wolves and vampires…and witches apparently.

"Klaus's father was a werewolf and not Esther's husband, the bastard son of a witch and werewolf turned vampire. It isn't something to be taken lightly." Caroline points out, she seems smug at the words.

Still not sure why she annoys me, but starting to feel like it might be permanent, I attempt to not react to her crude manner of speaking about his man, Klaus. Not that I wouldn't have spoken of any of the wolves I knew in a lighter tone. Yet I keep my lips pressed closed. I'm in her territory, a stranger, I best at least act half-way decent.

"Thus," Elena pronounces, her eyes stretching wide, pretty and preppy once more, the crystalline angularity of vampirism fading from her face. "We have hybrids. Klaus was the first and the only until he decided that the world could use a few more assholes and began wrangling perfectly good wolves into his bidding and siring them."

Siring? The hell? I glare at the air.

"Tyler isn't an asshole," Caroline defends with a scowl.

Though her mouth twitch clearly says differently, the brunette rolls her eyes, "You know what I mean." Although it is clear the blonde wants to accept the unsaid apology, she manages to hold out a little longer by examining her nails with extreme focus until Elena groans and mumbles, "Can't we get over it?"

The taller vampire breaks out into a self-satisfied grin and flips golden hair over her shoulder expertly. "What was the question again?"

"Hybrids,"

"Ah," Caroline looks directly at me for a long while, her eyes scrutinizing and her lips pursed in thought. Eventually she turns away to face Elena, her nose wrinkled, "What do you think?"

The girl shrugs her shoulders, "Well, it's not like if she is one then we'll be telling her something she shouldn't know or doesn't know already. Klaus has probably ranted about this enough times for it to be public information." As if on an afterthought, she sends me an apologetic smile, "And you do smell a little like dog,"

I shrug, not nearly as offended by this as I would have been months ago, after all they smell like morgue to me.

"True," the blonde states and turns back to me, "Did you notice that last night was a full moon?"

I sigh because, damn, full moon? Really? "It was," I reply with ease, slightly irritated with this cryptic questioning that feels all too familiar. It reminds me of when Seth and I first changed, his surprise that it was during the day and that the full moon was two weeks off.

"Then you are aware that last night you were not chained to a wall withering in agony because every bone in your body was breaking." Caroline looks harder, her eyes screaming that she had witnessed the likes of this before and again that glassy appearance surfaces. I wonder vaguely if they have ever seen it themselves, the angularity of their features that marks them as vampires. But I'm pretty sure they haven't, if they could they'd be wearier of the wolves. "There is only one way that is possible for a wolf,"

I cock my head, willing to listen, but starting to grow amused, because clearly the vampires have already decided I am one of Klaus's sired 'hybrids'. I could easily inform them of the truth, but perhaps it would be difficult for them to take in, despite that they have witches and surely some awful other creatures lingering about. Surely they knew about shape shifters.

"Hybrids change at will, they can avoid the full moon's call and considering that you are most definitely a wolf, but spent last night curled up on the bed upstairs, I have the strange feeling that maybe you could be a hybrid." Caroline's tone turns powder dry closer to the end and it makes me quirk an eyebrow at how clearly she looks betrayed. "Only thing is, Elena hasn't supplied much blood for the cause and Klaus should be down to only two or three hybrids right now."

Elena's blood… I have the insane urge to sigh, more questions for later. Instead, I lift a hand to my forehead at this new information; so the hybrids are going extinct? A spreading disease or have they been discovered by some age-old pitchfork wielding group? Maybe this Klaus is truly as mad as they told me he was and has cut through them himself. Clearly the aforementioned Tyler was one of those three remaining hybrids judging by Caroline's previous comment.

I wish there was a handbook for this shit.

"So how are you here?" Caroline supplied, eyes narrowing in threat.

"I'm not a hybrid," I tell the vampires and, although they scowl slightly at the denial, they seem unhurried waiting for me to explain my existence. "And despite what you might think, I'm not a werewolf either." Now they look downright unimpressed and before either can interrupt me, I continue. I probably should not be divulging Quileute history to complete strangers and vampires at that, but I don't see the harm of it. Our history was history; there was no compromising information in it that could harm me or the pack if anyone should discover them. "My home," I pause because I don't know if I can call it that any more but shake off the thought, "The Quileute tells stories of how we first came to be. We were a fishing tribe. Our warriors and chiefs had the ability to leave their bodies and enter the spirit world; it wasn't safe as your body was left vulnerable.

"Taha Aki, the chief, banished Utlapa, who wanted to use their powers to enslave the neighbouring tribes, and so Utlapa sought revenge. He managed to possess Taha Aki's body while the chief was in the spirit plane and killed his own body, trapping Taha Aki in spirit form. Stuck there, he was forced to watch Utlapa doing terrible things to the people. Only the Quileute, with the ability to leave their bodies, could also allow them to communicate with animals. Taha Aki sought out a wolf and asked to share its body, which it agreed to. As the wolf he returned to the village, and in his anger, his spirit overcame the body he possessed and the wolf turned into a man, the spiritual pure body of Taha Aki. Our phase is triggered by the need to protect our people," I look at the vampires and see the looks of interest and disbelief painted on their pale faces. "No, we do not turn with the full moon;" I added softly, "We do not conform to any set change."

"But you turn into a wolf,"

"Because this is the heritage passed down to me, it's my blood, my pack and I don't know how to even begin thinking of turning to something else."

Elena's face stretched with how far her brows rose. "Turn into something else?"

"We are technically shape shifters,"

"That isn't-"

"It is," I interrupt and shake my head, because I just knew this was going to happen. But I assume growing up with these tales made it easier for me to believe.

"Okay, okay, let's say I believe you," Caroline takes much longer to speak next and nearly cringes when she says it. "Phase in front of me,"

"No," I snap automatically. I haven't changed into my wolf form since the run in with Jane and I'll admit that I'm terrified at being trapped in an in-between stage again. The memories still feel too raw. There's no vampire child here to soothe me should I be stuck in black and white once more. Besides, changing isn't that easy, not for me, it's better since I learnt to control it , but it's still mostly based on emotional agitation.

The blonde's face bleaches of colour, if that's even accurate enough for that fair skin tone, and she gives me an appraising look-over. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It can't be pleasant. It must be painful, hell each time you turn,"

It's the calmest I've felt around her, sympathy, but still my skin itches. "Your-Tyler, you said? Do you watch him 'phase?" I ask instead, racking my brain.

She cringes, "It was horrible, watching him scream in agony for hours…I understand why you wouldn't want to do it. I was just thinking that if you really were a shape shifter maybe it would have been easier for you."

I look down at the table, mulling over this insight. Hours to change? I've had enough revelations for one morning and elect to keep the fact that my change happens within a handful of seconds to myself, that could be hazardous. I change tactics, "Can I meet him?" I blink and look at the blonde, something akin to anticipation bursting in my chest. "Can I meet Klaus too?"

Caroline cringes and twiddles her fingers; Elena on the other hand slowly nods her head. "I'm going with Stefan to see him later, we could take you with."

Disregarding the new name, Stefan, I move to stand. By the time she is done speaking I'm already pushing my chair back and ready to head out and find my car, but the vampire makes an ungodly noise that makes me pause and look back at her. She looks positively furious.

"You finish your breakfast, young lady,"

The words take me back. Protests about age and right to tell me what to do crawling around my skull. As it is, though, her fierce glare reminds me of mom. I sit back down and shovel down the food, hardly tasting it.

XXX

I escape the Gilbert household with all my limbs attached - although it is a near thing, Elena wanted to lend me clothes and Caroline wanted to…I don't know, slit my throat? She had had scissors and tweezers, and stared at me with a particular gleam in her eye.

Outside the day is just beginning to warm up - sunlight on the pavements and melting frost on the lawns of the suburbs. The town, with its swarms of teens and soccer moms and the chirpy chirps of the birds is very Stepford. Less ominous, and yet more so, than the night before. In the light of day, the dark escape roots are trimmed hedges and backyard gardens, the houses don't loom over me like giant walls and the abundance of sound is enough to make my head buzz.

I keep to the side of the pavement on the way to fetch the truck, vividly aware of small town culture. But no one spares me a glance, no wolves or vampires or witches (how do they smell? Look? Would I even know if one approached me?) try to suss me out. I count it as a win.

The beaten pick-up stands where I left it. Still ugly and worn but gleaming in the morning light, making a valiant effort to look less pathetic than it really is. For a moment I consider heading back to the Mystic Grill, if only to thank and apologise to the waiter - Matt - about the mess with Damon. The urge fades as soon as it comes and I slip into the truck. My bags are cramped in the passenger foot-space. I wrinkle my nose, the need to find clean clothing weighs heavily with the effort required to dig through the cramped bags and Alice's clothing contributions.

The vehicle stutters to life, choking on exhaust fumes and jerking in such a violent manner that for a moment I'm sure it'll die. But it coughs once my foot is on the gas and then I am groaning down the roads of Mystic Falls along with the late walkers.

I'm not sure why I'm heading back to Elena's house, why we couldn't just go straight to the Salvatores or Klaus, but I am. It probably has something to do with my not knowing where the heck I could go otherwise. And damnit, showering somewhere that doesn't smell like piss and mould is a damn fine idea.

When I park, Elena is there to grab one or two of my bags. (I want to demand why she isn't at school, at college, at work, at something, but refrain. She's a vampire and if there's any consistency among vampires, it's that they don't make sense.) Caroline has apparently left and won't join us in visiting Klaus - coward. When I ask her why, Elena laughs half-heartedly and informs me that Klaus and Caroline have a strange relationship. I don't roll my eyes, but it's a near thing. K'wa'iti, help me, I'm surrounded by children.

The shower is more invigorating than I even thought it could be and it gives me enough courage to search through the clothes Alice shoved in the bag. Thus far I've been hand washing and wearing the same two shirts and jeans. The chances of finding decent, comfortable clothes in that bag are slim. Are jeans and sneakers really that hard to obtain?

I leave the bathroom, still towelling the ends of my hair dry when my eyes first land on Stefan. He's more of a vampire than any of the other's I've met in Mystic Falls, angular and kind of starved looking. He smells vaguely of Elena's perfume and forest under the…dead thing. Earlier Elena had given me the rundown: Stefan-equals-boyfriend and Damon-equals-boyfriend's brother. I didn't tell her that love triangles aren't worth it, although they aren't. She's somewhat smart, has a decent head on her shoulders, she'll figure it out or kill herself trying. Hopefully not the latter, but who am I to dictate anyone's romantic entanglements?

Still, I'm not prepared for how different Stefan looks from his brother. Unlike the raven, Stefan is made up of muted colours that don't seem as defined or hard as Damon's. His blondish head is bent towards Elena's ear and his pale face is twisted in a fond smile that is the complete contrast to Damon's condescending smirk. One of the vampire's pale hands stretches along Elena's shoulder, gentle in its firmness, the female leaning against the touch as if drinking in his presence.

I want to gag. I wrinkle my nose instead. Ew.

Before I can find something else to keep me distracted (a photo, the carpet, my fist through the wall), Stefan notices me and pulls away from Elena. His smile is warm. I want to punch him.

Elena turns in his arms and flushes slightly. "Leah, this is Stefan,"

The vampire steps forward and extends his hand, so damn courteous. Someone shoot me. "Stefan Salvatore, I've heard about you from Damon and Elena. You're growing popular around here fast."

I'm not entirely sure what to do with him. His apparent kindness is genuine, but it feels off. I shake his hand, accepting the pleasantries without a twitch. Go, me! "Leah Clearwater," He reminds me of the Cullen vampires, with his agreeable smile and muted colour tones.

"I hear you want to meet Klaus,"

I nod and continue drying my hair, "It's become quite obvious that everyone is trying to lump me in the same category as him. I would like to know what I'm getting myself into." And why the hell a psychic vampire said that I needed to be in this arguably just-as-crazy-as-Forks town.

"Well, you're in luck." He turns to Elena and presses a quick kiss to the top of her head, "We're leaving in five minutes, so be ready." He departs down the stairs, moving too fast for what should be considered safe. Vampires, ugh.

Alone again, Elena grins at me and waves an arm toward my hair. "I have a hair drier if you want to use it."

"No, thanks," I throw the towel over my shoulder and move to bunch my hair in a harsh clump at the back of my head.

Elena makes a noise and hurries forward, placing a hand on my arm to stop me. "You should really leave it loose, you'll damage it."

"Huh?" I freeze, amused. Did she not see it this morning? It's beyond salvageable.

"Yes," she responds, "you know. It's pretty down." The emphasis makes my lips tighten into a foreboding line. No one's ever called me 'pretty' besides Nessie and my mother. Sam said I looked 'nice' once (what a dick) and at some point I remember Alice gushing over my cheekbones in her strangely spacey way, but it's nothing compared to the earnestness in Elena's voice. I'm not sure whether to throw myself down the stairs or shave my head.

"Okay," I say finally, my throat thick and dry.

It's annoying, I discover, having my hair loose now that it has grown out. The tips constantly tickle my skin or fall into my eyes. I'm very tempted to shove Elena over and tie up the stands, but every now and then she looks at me and smiles. I wonder, heart aching, if Nessie would touch my cheek in her gentle way and tell me it looks pretty too. So I bear with the discomfort, determined to ignore it and hoping it will stop bothering me.

Stefan makes no comment as we head out, his fingers thread through Elena's and the only sound that reaches my ears is the barely audible sound of gravel crunching under our feet. Walking again, which is fine, I like walking, but I'm pretty sure the town isn't that small. The wind tangles the stands of dark tresses around my ear and I find that it's kind of nice, the feeling of a cool breeze through my hair. Reminds me of being a wolf.

I can hardly remember the walk, the path, the time, it takes us to reach a considerably larger house. I would have called a historical showboat, instead, but Stefan says that it is Klaus's house. Its towering arches and ginormous front entrance make me feel small and insignificant; suddenly I wish Klaus hadn't piqued my curiosity.

The door is opened by an achingly familiar, smooth faced girl that I instantly recognise as a wolf. All my muscles contract, protest. I can hardly breathe - I'm the only female wolf that the Quileute had ever heard of, but before me stands another. Granted, it's clear she isn't like me, not completely. I can smell the sickly sweet stench of vampire on her too, mingled with the more familiar essence of wolf. A hybrid. I'm breathless and lost for words and practically vibrating with excitement.

So this is what they look like, smell like. I want to attack her with my questions. Has she imprinted? Can she have children? Is she immortal? Can she control her phases?

I never get the chance though - which later I will think is best, considering. She leads us inside, looking bored and disgusted, all but ignoring me. How how how.

We stop by another large door; my skin prickles as she cracks it open and sticks her head inside. Vaguely, from a distance it feels, I heard her speak, clearly hearing the name 'Klaus'. But she's the centre of my focus, amazing.

She swings open the door and waves us in. I don't want to leave her. I want to stay.

But she makes a more annoyed hand gesture and I follow the vampires less willingly. My skull pounds with it all.

It takes me a moment to notice him once I've dragged my eyes from the hybrid. He's a tall slim man leaning with his hip against a book cluttered desk. His arms are crossed over his chest, pulling dark blue material tight over his forearms, one foot lazily draped over the other at the ankle. His broad mouth is tinged a pale red and his eyes are framed by broad dark layers of lashes. Very GQ my brain supplies weakly.

He looks at us with some emotion I cannot name.

For the life of me, I don't know how it happens.

One moment I'm standing there, drinking him in all his - admittedly handsome - glory and the next I am on my knees, clutching my chest. Broken and whole all in one. My eyes burn with tears and I'm stuck there, lips parted around a choked cry.