The next morning, you leave immediately for Finn's. Hopefully you'll be back before Klaus comes.

Maybe if he used his phone every once in a while, you wouldn't have this issue. He definitely wouldn't have walked in on you and his brother last night if he called to check ahead. (For someone who gets so butthurt when people don't answer his calls, he loves to follow double-standards).

Part of you didn't want Kol to leave last night. Not because of any baser-urges, but because you weren't sure what would happen when he did. (Maybe it would have been worse if he had stayed. You don't know what lengths Klaus would go to if he found out his brother stayed the night). Kol told you not to worry. You found that hard to obey. Still find it difficult once you woke up, a knot of worry growing in your stomach.

One thing you didn't expect about having someone care about you, is that you now have someone else to worry about other than yourself. (Another thing you didn't expect is that your worries would be so drastic— normal people usually worry about the death of their loved ones in an abstract kind of way, not like this world you fell into where witches and monsters tear each other apart based on whims. Most people don't fall in love with a family that's spent a thousand years hell-bent on cruelty and power).

There's still the part of you that thinks maybe you're worrying for nothing.

(Klaus wouldn't actually dagger his brother just because you kissed him, right?)

Ugh. The Mikaelsons are make you convince yourself to go on anxiety meds. You somehow you made it through a solid four years of psychology undergrad without getting a psychiatrist and you're finally going to have to seek therapy because of a family of vampires. You don't think a human therapist would be able to handle your particular issues. (Are there vampire therapists? Probably). You wonder if any of the Mikaelsons have ever sought out therapy. You doubt it. You hope they do one day.

It might alleviate some of Klaus's dagger-causing impulses.

You get to Finn's house and you see smoke coming out of the chimney. You cut the engine as you pull into the driveway and sit in the silence that can only be found in the middle of woods and mountains in winter. You open the door and a rush of cold air floods into the car. You can taste snow in the air. You're not sure how Finn immediately landed a house on a hundred acres the instant he started looking for property, but that's not your business. You just hope the previous owner is still alive.

(Knowing Finn, you don't have much cause to worry).

Finn looks at you with a startled expression when he opens his door.

"Oh hello dear," he says, pulling you into a brief hug, "I wasn't expecting you."

"Bad time?"

He hesitates.

"Not at all," Freya says somewhere behind him, "I was just leaving."

"Oh, you don't have to leave because of me," you blurt out, flushing hot in your cheeks, "I didn't mean to interrupt or anything— holy shit, are you okay?"

Freya's eyebrows knit together. You double over when she tries to approach you. A bottomless grief threatens to engulf you; something tinged with righteous anger reflected upon itself until it becomes brighter than the sun. It washes out whatever worries you held with overwhelming distraught. You only feel a bare thread of it— but…

(A baby sitter you can't remember the face of took you to a haunted house when you were little— one of those dumb ones for kids with witches and pasty white vampires. The only way to get out was through a bridge that tilted while the walls spun around you, a refraction of a fun house. It feels like you're walking on that unstable platform now, but there are no rails beneath your hands).

You clutch at your head. "Shouldn't this have gone away by now?" You groan.

"Freya, what did you do to her?"

"I didn't do anything!" She protests.

"Can't you feel this too?"

Freya shakes her head, face pale.

"Great," you reply, grimacing, "Lucky me. Your emotions have been bleeding into me ever since the asylum."

You feel a sharp turn, like sourdough gone wrong, jolt through you.

"Just my emotions?" Freya asks carefully.

You think you know where she's going with this. "I can't read your mind if that's what you're imagining."

Freya visibly relaxes and you wonder what the hell she doesn't want you to know. (Probably best you don't have a clue). You don't think you can take in any more stress at the moment.

Your new life plan is to take things as they come. This seems like a problem for future you.

"I've never heard of anything like this happening," Freya mutters, "You don't happen to be a witch, do you?"

"God, I wish."

"Useless question," she dismisses, "We'd be able to sense it."

"Is it dangerous?" Finn asks, sharp edge of concern in his voice. Your lips twitch despite yourself. It's been so long since you've actually seen him, you've almost forgotten how worried he can get. It's sweet.

"It shouldn't be. I'll ask around."

"Yeah," you echo, "Not that I don't like feeling your every emotion, but it might get tricky at get togethers."

She smiles briefly. Her emotions drip slowly into honey. That ocean of sorrow starts to recede. You can breathe.

"I'll see what I can dig up. I've been slowly mastering the use of the 'Internet'."

That's reassuring.

"… I won't get my hopes up too much."

Freya smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek before she leaves. You feel warmth on your own lips.

Hm.

The door clicks behind her as she leaves and slowly your emotions ebb back into their own natural state. (Anxious and vaguely twitchy).

"Must you always have some kind of issue happening?" Finn asks dryly, leaning against the door frame.

You shrug even though your hands are still trembling a bit.

"Haven't you known me long enough to know that's just my constant state?"

He lets out a sigh.

"I can tell that's not the only thing on your mind. I'll put on some tea."

You really did miss him.

"I'm feeling quite sought-after today," Finn says, settling in an old wing-back armchair across from you, "Between you, Freya, and Kol, I've been quite busy."

"Kol stopped by?"

He's okay.

Finn looks at you, calculating. "Yes. Does that have anything to do with whatever has your heartbeat going a mile a minute?"

There has to be a better way to phrase this. "Klaus caught me kissing Kol."

For a vampire, Finn is remarkably bad at hiding his reactions.

"… Forgive me if it seems obvious," he says carefully, "But is that not expected?"

Sure. Maybe. You're sure most people in relationships with four (five? Six?) different siblings have perfectly healthy attachment styles and never face any jealousy.

"It's Klaus. You should have seen his face, Finn."

He leans back in his chair and takes a long drink of his tea.

"That is a good point. I've seen his jealousy before— and as we know, bore his anger firsthand." You swallow at the reminder. "But Niklaus treats prospective partners with a different kind of possessiveness."

"How did you even know?" You ask, horribly stilted, after a moment, "About your family's… arrangements?"

You're forever grateful for the way he bypasses the implication in your words.

"You mean since I was daggered?"

You nod and Finn settles in his seat. His head tilts in a way that reminds you of your too-short month together and sleepless nights. It's his story-telling pose, you recognize now.

Elijah does the same thing.

(You wonder if he learned it from his older brother telling tales when they were just humans, growing up in a time so different you can hardly imagine it).

"I do not know if this is an ability unique to me," Finn muses, "Or because of my horrifically long stint in that coffin, I could communicate with my siblings while they were daggered."

"Like in dreams?"

"Yes," he answers and something tugs at you, "I don't believe the others remember once they wake."

"Ah."

"You were wondering if I ever participated?"

"Well." You bite your tongue. You can't say the thought hasn't crossed your mind. You'd just rather hide in a hole than say those exact words. "Yes, but Rebekah mentioned something about the last time they were involved with a human. She didn't give any details. It's been worrying me for a while, but now with Kol…"

"I'm the safest person to ask," Finn says dryly with a raised eyebrow.

You duck your head. "You have met your family, right?" You bite out.

"I suppose you have a point," he sighs, "I know what she was talking about. My siblings stopped playing with humans some time ago. I guess they just got bored. But there was an exception in the eighteen-hundreds. Her name was Anya."

"What happened to her?"

Finn hesitates. You wonder what could possibly be so bad that even Finn doesn't want to tell you.

"You must understand," he starts slowly, "Niklaus is cruel. To his family, yes, but more so to those outside it. He's the one who discovered her first. She became involved with all of my siblings, but she fell in love with Elijah."

That moment out in the snow has been echoing in your mind. Klaus's casual, offhand possessiveness. ('I wouldn't let you choose another,' he had said).

"She tried to break it off and Niklaus killed her for it."

(He said it to your face and you still didn't understand. What will it take for you to remember you're playing a dangerous game).

"But why?" You blurt out, "Did Klaus love her?"

Finn laughs, dry and humorless.

"Not in the slightest. He just can't stand for anyone to have something he doesn't."

You swallow.

"I fucked up, didn't I?"

"I'm sure it will all be alright," Finn tries to reassure, but it's not enough to calm the panic rising in your chest, "Kol is fine."

"— For now."

Finn's face ripples into a complicated looking somersault that finishes as exasperated. "Why are you more worried about this than when you thought you were being haunted by a ghost trying to kill you?"

"Because this affects more than just me."

Finn buries his face in his hands.

"Sometimes I wonder if this attraction is anything more than just some latent narcissism," he mutters. You flush deep.

"… So I shouldn't worry too much?"

Finn's quiet for a long moment, like he's debating whether he should say something. It can't possibly bring the mood down anymore than it already is.

"You asked me on the plane why Niklaus daggered me, do you remember?" He asks, voice rough.

Well, you were wrong. You're not sure where Finn is going with this, but you want to alleviate the pain in his eyes.

"Finn, you don't have to—"

"It's alright. I haven't spoken on this before. Not even to my family, though I'm sure they've discussed it behind my back. Niklaus will deny this if you bring it up to him," he warns, "He likes to pretend he cares for nothing other than himself, even family."

That sounds familiar. (He doesn't show that side to you much anymore. You still remember how terrifying he was to you at first).

"I told you I hated being a vampire. That much was true. Early on, we had to run from our father. We were constantly in the dark, living like animals. Killing to survive. I… had a harder time than our siblings. I contemplated going to our father and having him put me out of my misery several times."

Oh Finn.

You remember being barely twelve and knowing without a doubt that your parents would be happier if you didn't exist. Remember being twenty and exhausted and wondering if any of this is even worth it. Years passing and still not being sure, but never quite desperate enough to take action.

"I thought Originals couldn't die?"

He shakes his head.

"We can. Our father was in possession of a weapon that could do it. Niklaus caught me the night I tried to leave. He was… unhappy, to say the least." Finn quiets.

"He daggered you?"

"No," he says shortly, "We were captured by a hunter some years later. Niklaus undaggered all of us except for me. And so I remained for nine hundred years."

You lean back in your seat, brain racing.

"I know it doesn't mean much, but I'm sorry."

He laughs, bloodless.

"The funny thing is, if I had died earlier I probably would have learned my lesson sooner. Never be in a hurry to die," he murmurs, "It's not all it's cracked up to be."

"I don't," you blurt out, unconscious, "Want to die or anything. Not now."

"Sometimes I wonder if anyone wants to," Finn admits, "Or if they just want to exist in a way that's incompatible with their current existence."

"You're really selling the whole 'immortal vampire' thing right now."

"I suppose I've gotten maudlin in my old age."

You roll your eyes because you can only be serious for so long before it starts to wear on you. Finn has other ideas.

"But my point, dear, is that you cannot control Niklaus's actions. You're not responsible for them, nor could you alter them even if you tried. At most he would allow you the show of begging for Kol's safety and relenting, despite never having any intention of daggering him in the first place. Or perhaps the opposite. Please put your worries out of your mind. He does care for us in some selfish sort of way, even if he won't admit it."

"… I'm not sure whether that makes me feel better or worse."

Finn laughs and starts to rise out of his chair.

"If nothing else, let it calm you. My family loves to play games. You are refreshing because you do not." He smiles and cups your cheek before retreating with your empty cup of tea to the kitchen. You sit in silence by his fireplace, firelight dancing over your face. Well, you think to yourself dryly, at least you can always count on Finn to be honest with you.

Maybe he's right. You've been so worried over Marcel's warnings, Kol's seemingly inability to not antagonize his brother— even Elijah's hesitance to come near you. Why should you be responsible for Klaus's actions? You haven't done anything wrong. All you've done is allowed yourself to be swept up in this whirlwind of a family.

You've never been good at chess. Maybe you should leave the strategizing to the vampires.

Good lord, why is this so complex.

You give a deep sigh and press your palms into your eyes.

You spend the rest of your visit at Finn's talking about things that don't matter (pottery; he does indeed want your shitty plant pots. Or is at least too polite to refuse them) and seeing how he's finding 21st century homeownership (okay; Freya visits often and he's been methodically exploring the woods surrounding his house).

"I've missed you," you say, "I know I said it earlier, but I really did."

Finn's lips twitch into a private smile.

"I consider myself quite lucky to have met you, despite the… complications that it entails."

"Are you calling me a complication?"

"No," he says dryly, "I'm calling my siblings 'too much trouble for what they're worth'."

"I don't think I've hit that point yet."

"I pray you don't, then I would have to find someone else who likes complaining as much as I do."

You snort. "Finn, I don't think anyone likes complaining as much as you do."

He smiles.

"So did I make you feel better or worse about getting entangled with my family?"

You know the answer should probably be 'worse'.

"Strangely," you say, "I think better."

"Why 'strangely'?"

"You're terrible at comforting people."

You keep such a deadpan face you think Finn thinks you're serious for a split second. He snorts and rolls his eyes.

"And you're terrible at accepting comfort, so we're even."

You open your mouth to tear him to shreds, but your phone buzzes and you freeze. You check your phone, the glass almost slipping out of your hand, but it's just Rebekah telling you to expect a package in two days. Finn must catch the apprehension that flits across your face.

"More trouble?"

You hesitate, phone illuminating your face in multi-colored blue light.

"Something like that. Klaus said he would stop by today."

"— And you don't want to get caught spending time with yet another one of his siblings instead of him," Finn finishes.

You bury your head in your hands.

"If one of my friends was in this position, I would tell them to run," you groan, "Why am I so dumb?"

"I wouldn't call you dumb," Finn muses, "At least, not at this present moment."

Klaus is, in fact, not standing impatiently outside your front door when you get home. You breathe a sigh of relief even though the situation hardly warrants it. You lock the door behind you and proceed to debate whether you should clean the kitchen or collapse into your bed.

You settle on vacuuming. You haven't gotten any cleaning done (somehow) despite not being employed and having all the time in the world. You're still a little shaky after tea with Finn and— wow, Freya's discovery almost slipped out of your mind.

Honestly, there's been so much on your mind that having a tenuous emotional connection to a Mikaelson witch doesn't even rank up there with your main worries.

That's saying a lot.

And Anya. Well, you think to yourself, nose scrunching subconsciously, at least you know why Elijah's been avoiding you. (At least you know it's not something you did). You choke on a laugh that echos in your empty living room. Of course your main concern is how Elijah is feeling. Not the fact that Klaus seems to have a history of killing people out of jealousy.

(It's just— you can't find it in yourself to care. Not when you find yourself hungry for the person who dragged you kicking and screaming into this new existence).

Almost like some omniscient creature could hear you, there's a knock on your door.

"Klaus," you say, door swinging open, "I thought you said you'd be by in the morning."

He gives you what you imagine is his winning smile. "Change of plans. How do you feel about New York?"

You lean against the doorframe instead of answering.

"That depends," you eventually say, "Is New York code for 'murdering a bunch of people in New York City' or sightseeing."

"Mostly the second."

"Mostly," you comment dryly.

He shrugs. "Best I can do, love."

"I don't have a suitcase."

"Whatever would make you think you needed one?"

You roll your eyes and take his hand, crystal eyes glittering.

Chapter is up earlier in the day because I got my final grades back and I need something to make me happy 😃 when will my suffering end.

Okay, I'm done being dramatic. Here's a joke: How do you fix a broken jack o lantern?

With a pumpkin patch!