Klaus basked in an unusual sense of contentment that evening. He had yearned for this moment for over a thousand years to be free from his beast of a father. The dream of obtaining Mikael's weapon and dismantling it was so tantalisingly close, promising him a life free from fear. No longer having to look over his shoulder for distrustful shadows. The promise of a peaceful, unencumbered life danced before him like a beautiful mirage. Perhaps he would organise a vampire Woodstock in celebration. Make an annual event out of the demise of Mikael. The end of his thousand-year torment.
Amidst the raucous revelry of the homecoming party, Klaus found himself enjoying a game of beer pong with some of the drunken teenagers. One of his loyal hybrids came up to his side, expertly avoiding any accidental contact with Klaus's elbow as he readied himself for his next shot.
"You have a visitor outside," the hybrid reported.
"Well, tell my visitor that I'm on the brink of victory here," Klaus responded, aiming the ping pong ball at the red plastic cup across the table. Tony, the hybrid on the opposite side of Klaus, surveyed the party, ensuring that no eavesdroppers were listening in.
"He said his name is Mikael."
And just like that, the beautiful dream started to fade away again.
"Then we mustn't keep him waiting. Move everyone out back. I'm going to have a little chat with my dad. Tony, you know what to do," Klaus instructed, concealing his disappointment. He nonchalantly tossed the ball straight into the plastic cup, ignoring the cheers of the rowdy teenagers as they watched their friend drink.
The journey to meet his father was a brief one, affording Klaus a moment to prepare himself for their impending reunion, their first in 90 years. As Klaus reached the entrance of the mansion, he paused, noticing that the front door had already been opened. Mikael stood on the other side, arms folded behind him, an air of smug complacency about him.
"Hello, Niklaus," Mikael greeted with a malice lighting up in his eyes. However, to an unobservant outsider, this malevolence would be undetected. Fortunately for Klaus, he was long lost acquaintances with this predatory gaze - Mikael always bore the same gaze before striking.
"Mikael." Klaus replied coolly, taking a step further into the room, positioning himself about a metre away from the door.
It was strange, it had been years since Klaus even laid eyes on Mikael, and he had expected that when he inevitably saw him again, he would feel the same fear he felt as a child. That he felt when his mother cursed him. But it seemed to have dissipated. He obviously remained cautious of Mikael and his deadly stake, but that paralysing fear no longer had him in its clutches. All that remained was just a deep loathing for the man he was forced to call father. It had been so long since he had seen his father, only aware of his presence from quiet whispers and dark shadows looming in the corner of his eye. Perhaps it was the fear of the unknown that kept him vigilant, rather than the man himself. After all, men who murder their families are always small, insignificant cowards.
"What? Not willing to come outside and face me like a man?" Mikael taunted, relishing that he managed to catch his bastard of a son off guard.
Klaus stared passively at Mikael, a growing sense of boredom creeping in as he discerned Mikael's transparent attempts to get him to let his guard down. "I've learned that your idea of what a man should be is one that likes to beat children into submission and murder his entire family to appease his pride."
Mikael clenched his jaw in agitation. This wasn't the Niklaus he remembered. The Niklaus he chased hid behind compelled vampires and fled at the mere whisper of his name; was scared to look him in the eye and knew his place. The Niklaus he yearned to kill was the one that feared him. Not this facade of confidence. He wanted to watch him break. Watch as he realised that he lost, that he was a failure in every meaning of the word.
"What happened to you, boy. You learned to control yourself for once and now you think you can best me? You've always been weak, Niklaus. You've always been a coward hiding behind your playthings," Mikael declared, withdrawing his arms from behind his back and taking a step closer to the doorway.
Niklaus raised up his arms and shook his head. "I'm not hiding anymore," Klaus paused and looked deep into his father's soulless eyes, his lips curling into a frown. "You're not worth it."
With a cruel grin, Mikael replied, "Well maybe I'll be worth it when you can no longer sire any more of your abominations." The hybrid that alerted Klaus of Mikael's presence, Mindy, came out with the doppëlganger in her grip and shoved her toward the Hunter. "You seem to forget that your hybrids can still be compelled by me. Come out and face me or she dies." Mikael maintained a brutal grip on the doppëlganger's arm, causing her to tremble in fear.
Klaus gritted his teeth. "No."
"No, Klaus. He'll do it," Elena implored frantically, pleading with the Original to save her.
"If she dies, this lot will be the last of your hybrids."
"Then she dies. I don't need them, and I certainly do not need to prove myself to you." Klaus stared unflinchingly into Mikael's dead eyes, daring him to make his move.
"So, you can live forever, with no one at your side. Nobody cares about you anymore, boy! What do you have other than those whose loyalty you forced? No one. No one." The Hunter furry was palpable, frothing at the mouth as he spit out the words like bullets. But never reaching his target.
"I could say the same thing about you, father. You spent a thousand years hunting me, and you're all alone. No family. No friends." Klaus moved closer to the door's threshold, just out of Mikael's reach. With a stony look he leaned forward and uttered the two words that caused Mikael to unravel before him, "No wife."
"You watch your tongue boy," Mikael growled, his fingers twitching as his fury flooded his veins; his grip on Elena's tightening even more causing her to whimper in pain.
"Make me." Klaus gestured to the doppëlganger with a nod of his head, a cheeky grin marking his face as he saw the anger in his eyes. "Kill her, her death means nothing to me."
"Your impulse, Niklaus. It keeps you from being truly great," Mikael tsked, hoping to finally elicit the response he so desperately craved.
"So does your arrogance."
In a furious rage, Mikael plunged the knife into the doppëlganger's neck, severing it from ear to ear. Crimson blood gushed from the wound, staining the marble floors and ricocheting onto the door frame. Elena's trembling hand reached up to her bleeding neck, her mouth pooling with blood that spilled down her chin, marking her once elegant blue dress. Her lifeless eyes remained fixed on the Original in the doorway as she crumpled to the stained floor in front of Mikael.
As the doppëlganger bled out on the marble floors, Klaus remained impassive to her death. He allowed the blood pool to his feet, his attention unwavering as he stared down the arrogant, vengeful man before him. However, before either Original could react, Damon lunged towards Klaus with the white oak stake firmly in his grip. He managed to push Klaus down onto the floor in front of Mikael, poised to drive the stake deep into the Hybrid's heart. Just as a gleeful Damon was about to strike, an aluminium baseball bat came swinging down with incredible force, striking him in the face. The force of the blow launched the vampire into the wall where the frames that once hung on the wall shattered and marked his face with angry cuts.
"Well, that's not very nice," the stranger remarked, the bat swung from the stranger's hand, passing her boots before resting on her leather-clad shoulder.
With Damon momentarily distracted, Klaus swiftly rose to his feet and charged at his father. A thousand years of pent-up anger, pain, and sorrow rushed over him as he grappled with the relentless Hunter. Mikael managed to get Klaus in a chokehold, ready to snap his neck when Klaus's eyes turned yellow. The Hybrid tore his arm away from his neck and ripped a chunk of the Original's flesh off his shoulder, spitting it out on the floor by his feet. As they fought, Katherine, who disguised herself as the bloody Elena, rose from the ground, setting off the wolfsbane and vervain grenades on the hybrids to keep them at bay, though this had little effect on the fight between the two Originals.
Damon, struggling to raise his head and still disoriented from the blow, forced himself onto his feet once more, still clutching the stake. As he looked up, he saw Stefan rushing from the hallway, charging towards him and forcefully kicking him back down. The stake slipped from his fingers and rolled until the stranger took hold of it. Damon strained to make out who had the stake now but couldn't see over Stefan's mournful and furious face, as he continued to hold him down.
The woman in possession of the stake made her way outside to see Klaus overpowering his father on the floor, struggling to match the strength of a hybrid.
"Nik!" she shouted, hurling the stake towards the hybrid.
Without hesitation, Klaus caught it and plunged the stake deep into the Original's heart, leaning down next to his slowly decaying head.
"þú faileð," Klaus uttered, his voice filled with triumph.
Klaus watched his father's body burn before him, tears streaming down his face. If you asked him if they were from relief or pain, he couldn't tell you; he just knew it was finally over. All of it was over. Klaus blankly stared into the embers and watched as his father's body slowly turned to ash. As he watched, he couldn't help but think about his brother, Hendrick, how they burned him in a fire, not too different from this one; hoping to bring him peace. He remembered how his sister cried, holding on to their mother. He remembered how his two elder brothers stood stoically by them, watching the flames consume his small body. He remembered Kol standing behind everyone, looking down at the floor; unable to watch as their brother disappeared. And he remembered Mikael's fury and anguish painted across his face as he looked at Hendrick, and when he glared down at him through the flames.
Staring down intently at the burning corpse, his companion stood by his side silently. She didn't say anything. She didn't need to. She stood there impassively watching as the flames consumed the monster's body. She spared a glance at Nik, taking in his solemn eyes and rigid stance as he allowed himself to process his father's death and what it could mean for their future. It was finally time to live a life without a shadowy figure lurking over them.
It was over.
He won.
"We thought everything through, Elena! Klaus having hybrids. Mikael turned on us. We had Katherine so you wouldn't be used as leverage. Anything that could have gone wrong we were prepared for!" Damon threw his drink into the fire and moved back when the flames surged from the alcohol. The destruction did little to soothe his nerves.
"I don't understand. Stefan wanted Klaus dead. More than anything. That's what we were counting on." Elena couldn't wrap her mind around it. Klaus had ruined his life, her life, and still he helped save him. It was the one thing they thought they could depend on.
Damon shook his head with frustration. "As much as I would love to blame everything on Stefan, it wasn't just him." He wouldn't let his brother shoulder all of the blame, only most of it. "Some bitch appeared out of nowhere and stopped me."
"Do you think it was one of his other siblings?" Elena wondered.
Damon paused, thinking back. "No, Mikael didn't recognise her." He shook his head with a rueful smile. "Probably just one of his hybrid slaves. They're gonna be popping up like flies now. If I ever see that crazy bitch again though, I'm ripping her heart out." He smiled slightly at the thought of killing her.
"What did she look like?" Elena inquired. A part of her wanted to find this hybrid and shake some sense into her. But she knew that the sire bond was what made her save Klaus. Still, she could at least spit in her drink or something.
"She whacked me in the face with a bat before I could get a good look. But I'll find her. When I do, that bitch is gonna pay."
After Elena had finally left to check up on Jeremy, Damon found himself alone in the parlour room, drinking straight out of the bottle. Shattered glass lay strewn below his feet, twinkling in the glow of the roaring fire. As he savoured the soothing burn that came from the bourbon hanging limply in his fingers, he let his mind drift back.
He had failed again. He wanted to be the hero for once and save his brother and Elena, prove to himself and everyone that he could be good. That he was worthy. But what was the point? He had meticulously planned out the perfect plan to kill Klaus, and he was betrayed by his own brother.
Creek
Damon looked up toward his bedroom where he heard the noise coming from within. As quietly as he could, he set the bottle of bourbon down on the nearby side table and grabbed one of the fire pokers displayed next to the fireplace. The thought that Klaus might be coming by to finish what he started crossed his mind, or Stefan had decided to come home and restyle his hair. Either way, Damon looked forward to this meeting turning violent.
Carefully avoiding the glass shards on the floor, Damon sped towards his room to surprise his intruder. Stopping just outside his door, Damon found that he recognised the scent of whoever was inside. Opening the door cautiously, Damon was both confused, but somewhat happy, to see who had decided to sneak into his room.
"Hello, partner," a young 30-year-old looking vampire greeted him with a big smile by Damon's window. His voice carried a hint of country but held himself like a man of means. His maroon dress pants and white and blue striped button-up contrasted against the dark aesthetic of the vampire bedroom, making him stand out.
"Simon. I haven't seen you since we went to Woodstock," Damon exclaimed, crossing over to the vampire and met him halfway for a hug, placing the poker against a nearby chair.
"Sorry 'bout that. Been keeping myself busy. Besides, you were always so busy looking for a way into that tomb. Never did have much time for friends," Simon replied, pulling away from the embrace and began walking around the young vampire's room. He couldn't seem to keep still, fidgeting every time he made eye contact with his friend. "I heard that you opened it, but she wasn't there. Real bitch move if you ask me."
Damon shrugged nonchalantly, moving to sit down on the armchair next to his personal fireplace. "You don't know half of it. Look, it was nice to see you again, but I was hoping that tonight I could get hammered, destroy my brother's room and maybe get a bite to eat. See where the night takes me," He quipped with a careless shrug.
Simon shoves one of his hands deep in his pants pocket, the other playing with his short brown hair. "I would love to leave you to that but, um, there's something you ought to know."
"What? An immortal Original Hybrid wants to kill me. Cause I got that," he said casually.
"Partly. Olive is after you and your brother." Damon froze. "She knows that you tried to kill Klaus and she's not too happy about it."
"So, the rumours were true," Damon said quietly, trying to shake off the fear that was attempting to envelop him. "Olive sunk her claws into an Original. I always thought that was some big joke. Especially after meeting that hybrid dick."
"Well, I just thought you should know. It's dangerous being out there with her target on your back. You better watch out."
"Thanks for the tip." Simon went to grab his coat from the bed when Damon inquired further. "How did you hear about this?"
Simon began to put his suit jacket back on, fluffing up his collar as he answered Damon. "I got a pal who is in her inner circle. He knew we used to party together back in the day."
"Have you ever met her?" Damon asked, standing up from his chair and walking over to his drink cart. He was going to need another drink.
Simon looked thoughtfully at Damon. "Once, a pack of witches managed to snag me back in '94. They were planning on killing me and 'bout a dozen or so vamps, something about bringing someone back from the dead. I'd be dead if it wasn't for her."
"I'm surprised you didn't just kill them all with your terrible Chaplin impression." He gives his old friend a tight smile, lost in thought. He reaches down to grab one of the crystal glasses, careful not to knock it against the surrounding glasses. He had broken so many tonight he was going to have to restock. Again.
"Ha-ha, well, that was my back-up plan. But you know me, always more of a damsel in distress than a white knight." Simon headed toward the door again and patted Damon on the back as he began to open it.
"How long do you think I've got before she gets to me?" Damon asked suddenly.
Simon quickly turns around with an easy-going smile painted across his face. "Oh, you've got plenty of time. The message was that she was keeping an eye on you two. Nothing 'bout murder or torture. Yet."
"Your confidence is lovely," Damon remarked, rolling his eyes in response before digging through his drink cart, searching for a particular bottle that will help him forget the events from today. Instead, Damon found a vodka bottle tucked away in the corner. Elena's birthday party. Someone must have left their bottle behind. Some might consider this a happy accident, but Damon just saw it as a middle finger from the universe. Someone had put their cheap vodka next to his hundred-dollar bottle of bourbon. His night really couldn't get any worse. The vampire picked up his favourite and most expensive bourbon before pouring himself three fingers.
"Sorry, but I got to be honest, partner, I do not like your chances. The Hybrid and the Saviour are after you. Might be best for you to get out of dodge."
"I can't. I made a promise," Damon responded, not looking up at his friend. He knew how silly that sounded. A bounty was placed on his head, and rather than running to the nearest remote island, he was going to stay put all because he promised Elena he wouldn't leave again. But how could he leave? Elena needed him.
Simon grimaced. "That doppëlganger really got you on the hook, huh?"
Damon glanced up with a glare, hands immediately raising in surrender. "Oh, don't give me that look. A vampire falling in love with his brother's girl, who looks exactly like their ex, you can't write shit like that. Mostly because it's just plain stupid. You think you boys would learn a thing or two but no, you lot like the drama of it all."
Damon waved his hand at his friends, swatting away the tragedy of his predicament. His life had become a joke.
"Alright, alright. She's nothing like Katherine."
"Except she looks exactly like her," Simon pointed out.
"And that's where it ends." Damon hit the vampire with a hard look, conveying his disinterest in delivering into his love life, or lack thereof.
"Well, I sure do hope things turn out better for you this time round. Good luck to you, old friend," Simon before heading down the dark stairway.
"You too. Hey," Damon called out, spotting the offensive Vodka bottle. The vampire picked it off his cart and threw it to his friend in the doorway. "Have a drink on me. I know how much you like that shit."
Simon smiled and nodded in thanks. "Be seeing you." He saluted him before departing, leaving Damon alone with his thoughts.
"Try the door next time!" Damon yelled from his bedroom, hearing the distant sound of laughter from outside.
Now that Damon was finally alone, he sat down on his bed and began to replay the events of the past few hours in his mind. He fixated on every detail, trying to figure out what went wrong with his plan.
The plan. His plan. It seemed so perfect. They had thought of everything. Elena was kept out of harm's way, they had Mikael compel the hybrids out of the house, Damon had the stake. He had Klaus. And then that hybrid, the one hybrid that managed to sneak away when Mikael was compelling them all, the only thing he could make out was her thigh-high boots and leather jacket. Everything else was a blur. Who smacks someone in the eyes? Of course, it wasn't all her fault. He could get over it. Once he killed her.
No, it was Stefan that really messed everything up. His unforgivable betrayal loomed in his mind. All the pain and suffering could have ended, it was so close he could almost taste it. But thanks to Stefan and his extreme lack of judgement, he is having a pity party rather than the victory party he was so looking forward to.
And now, Klaus and Olive were after him.
Fuck
(you failed)