Chapter 2 - When I'm Screaming at the Sky
The Mystic Grill was unsurprisingly full of people despite it only being 11 am. The usual hum of rumbling chatter greeted people as they entered, looking for some solace and familiarity that the Grill always seemed to provide. Among the patrons was Elena, her anxiety palpable as she desperately shared her frustrations with the friendly neighbourhood witch. It had been days since they had failed to kill Klaus, but the doppelgänger's unease had only increased with each passing day. Looking over her shoulder constantly, thinking she was being followed and having endless nights where sleep constantly evaded her.
"I feel like I'm going crazy. Totally paranoid all the time," Elena confessed, her leg bouncing up and down as she spoke to the witch, feeling uneasy being in such a public space. The table gently rocked with each movement, causing the water to move ever so slightly, spilling on the polished wood. She wrapped a comforting arm around herself as she tried to get control of her anxiety.
"You have a right to be," Bonnie reassured her, placing a comforting hand on her friend's knee, finally getting the water to settle as her knee stilled at the gesture. "Klaus is still out there, and he knows you tried to kill him."
"Why hasn't he made a move?" The brunette wondered aloud, biting her nails. She was unable to stop fidgeting as she obsessed over Klaus' next move. "There has been no sign of him. Nothing. Just my slow spiral into insanity."
Bonnie scoffed, her frustration evident, "Join the club. Every time I close my eyes, I have that nightmare," She widened her eyes as she picked up her drink, highlighting her irritation. "On repeat."
"The same dream?" Elena inquired, ceasing her nail biting as she focused on her troubled friend.
"Yeah! Four coffins, Klaus is in one of them. It's weird."
"What if it's not just some dream?" Elena cautiously glanced around the crowded restaurant discreetly, making sure no one was listening in. "What if it's like...you know...a witch dream?"
"It's just stress. I'll figure it out." Bonnie dismissed Elena's concerns, her own worries taking a backseat. "And what about Stefan? Has there been any sign of him?"
"He betrayed us, Bonnie. The Stefan that we know is gone." Elena dropped her gaze down at the table, avoiding the concerned eyes of her best friend. It was hard for her to accept that the Stefan she knew was gone. She felt like an idiot spending so much time trying to save him from Klaus, only to have him pick Klaus over them.
Over her.
"How is Damon handling it?" Bonnie inquired, shifting the conversation.
"Damon is…" Elena looked towards the bar where Damon was currently going through the various drinks in front of him, looking dishevelled and had clearly been drinking long before she woke up. The bartender seemed to be serving every drink they sold behind the bar in front of the vampire, along with an array of cocktails. Picking up her drink, Elena stared deeply into the dark liquid, hoping Bonnie didn't notice how intently she had been watching the vampire, "Damon."
At the bar, an assortment of alcoholic beverages was displayed in front of the intoxicated vampire. He had already managed to put a rather large dent into his impressive collection of bourbon and was forced to vacate the Boarding House before he went completely dry. In this state, Damon was in no mood to restock his collection. Next to him, Alaric was grading his students' mid-term papers, a glass of scotch keeping him company as he worked. He had been doing his best to ignore the vampire, but it was proving to be more difficult than he anticipated.
"Ok, I'll give you a choice. Bloody Mary or Screwdriver. Brunch in a bottle." Damon pointed to each bottle as he spoke. The bartender, Jessica, had been more than happy to present the array of drinks before him. Rather than responding, Alaric continued to grade the paper in front of him. His red pen made quick corrections as he read through the poorly written essay. "Come on, Ric, I can't drink all this by myself. I mean, I can, but then somebody's getting naked."
The drunk vampire winked at Jessica, who had just returned from the back with more bottles to restock the bar. She had been around the older Salvatore brother enough times to know that she would need them soon, especially in the mood he was in right now.
"Oh man, I can't believe you're making me drink alone," Damon grumbled, knocking back the whiskey straight from the bottle.
"I'm busy," the teacher replied without looking up.
"It's the eve of Klaus-ageddon. And you're doing homework?" Damon scoffed as he looked disbelievingly at his supposed drinking buddy. Who would spend their time grading papers when they could literally die at any minute?
"This may come as a shock, but I am not here to hang out with you. I'm here to see Jeremy." Alaric finally looked up from the paper to check his watch. "Who is an hour late for his shift?" An annoyed and disappointed look was clearly displayed on his face.
"Kids today…. Where are their values?" the vampire sarcastically shook his head in sarcastic shock.
Moving the bottles out of the way, Alaric placed the paper he had been grading for the past ten minutes in front of his friend. The paper was littered with red markers and a large 'F' on the top right-hand corner of the page, just underneath the URL from where the paper had been downloaded from.
"That's his mid-term paper. Copied it straight off the internet." He pointed in displeasure at the URL at the top aggressively, irritated at his recent behaviour. "Didn't even try to hide it."
Sliding the paper back into the pile of already marked papers, Alaric started to worry that he must not be supporting the young boy as well as he thought. He knew Jeremy had the potential to do better, be better than this. But all the evidence presented before him showed him that Jeremy wasn't dealing with things properly. There was still time to help Jeremy, to stop him from becoming…. becoming like him. Unfortunately for Alaric, Jeremy was already too much like him. Both were amateur vampire hunters who had lost their loves violently. It was a sobering thought. One that made him even more determined to help Jeremy from making the same mistakes he made.
"Oh, somebody's getting grounded." Damon moved the now finished whisky bottle to the side to join his growing collection of empty bottles. Jessica came back towards the two men after having served the customer a few seats down from them.
"Did you say you're waiting for Jeremy?" She asked.
"Yeah." Alaric looked up at Jessica hopefully. Maybe Jeremy was just in the back and has been working hard to get his priorities straight.
"He was fired last week." Jessica gave the teacher a sympathetic smile before walking away, eyeing the empty bottles on the table that she knew would continue to grow.
"Oops."
The hunter sighed disappointingly at the paper again. Capping his red pen, Alaric turned his stool slightly to look back towards the table at the back where Elena was still sitting with Bonnie. Elena was looking over her shoulder when the doors to the Grill opened, shoulders tensing before relaxing marginally at the sight of a mother and son coming in. Dread filled his stomach as he realised he would have to cause her even more stress.
"Great, now I have to tell Elena that her brother is spiralling." Alaric turned his stool back towards the bar, rubbing his face, unsure of how to help the young boy.
"Well, the good news is we have enough alcohol here for him to drink away his shame." Damon gestured widely with his hands, as if presenting a gift.
Tired of Damon's antics, Alaric finally addressed his behaviour with annoyance. "What the hell has been going on with you?" Alaric finally snapped, not understanding the erratic behaviour the vampire seemed to have been showing. "I know it can't just be the Klaus thing. Yesterday I saw you get so drunk you started making out with Angela."
Damon shrugged carelessly, "What can I say, I'm irresistible. It would be rude for me to not share my body with the world," he quipped, taking a seat on the stool next to Alaric and busying himself with a new unopened bottle of Johnny Walker.
Alaric watched as Damon struggled to open the cap of the bottle in his drunk state. "Angela is the 80-year-old accountant for the grill. She was in a wheelchair and didn't have her dentures in." Damon froze and stared confusingly at the teacher before successfully opening the bottle. "Do you want to tell me what happened, or should I get Angela to come and see if she's still interested?" he asked exasperated.
Damon took a swig of the bottle before answering, raising his hand in front of him. "Ok, A. Of course, she is still interested. This ride has no age limits." Looking down, he quietly muttered, "Usually." Quickly coming back up, he clapped Alaric hard on the shoulder, spilling his drink on the table near the papers. "B, I am just accepting my fate since I realised Klaus has more firepower than we thought."
"Meaning?" Alaric moved his papers away from the slushy vampire. The last thing he needed was for his students to get their work back reeking of booze.
"Olive," Damon breathed, his eyes widening dramatically, inhaling as much Walker as he could, hoping to drink away her name.
"Olive? You want to eat an olive?" Alaric questioned confusingly. Perhaps he was further gone than he realised. All this drinking would have killed a human by now.
Damon glared at Alaric, removing the drink from his desperate lips, curling them into a frown. "No. Olive is a vampire that is working with Klaus apparently," He waved his hand dismissively, the only sign of his anxiety is the slight tightening of the Walker. "She's like Dracula, everyone knows who she is. Some vamps literally worship her as if she's some saviour. That's what they call her too. The Saviour." Still holding the bottle, Damon mockingly does jazz hands to illustrate the wonder some vampires perceive her to be.
"How dangerous is she?"
Damon raised his eyebrows dramatically as he spoke of her supposed brutality. "Rumour has it that a vampire gang in New York was drawing too much attention to themselves, so she ripped out their tongues and eyes, shoved it up their ass and then made them feed it to each other. All by herself." Despite his fear, Damon didn't do a great job of hiding his reluctant awe.
"Gross but creative." Alaric commented dryly. "And you don't know what she looks like?"
"No one really does."
"Why is she with Klaus? Wouldn't they be fighting for the right to be vampire king?"
"Vampire king?" Damon squinted at his friend, as if that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. Wait, no. It was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. He grabbed the screwdriver in front of him and poured some of the Johnny Walker into it before sliding it towards Alaric. "Drink this."
"Her and the Original freak are dating apparently. They have sired hybrids and loyal vampires just waiting to deliver my head to them just for a pat on the back," he said bitterly.
"Wow, you're really screwed this time," Alaric remarked.
"Exactly. Which is why you are going to drink with me until I can't see anymore," Damon declared, leaning over the bar and reaching for two shot glasses. He lines them up between the two of them and fills them up with the dark liquor. After putting the bottle back down both men grab the overflowing shot glasses and knock them back, more than happy to try and forget the morning events.
After an eventful morning at the Grill that ended abruptly with Klaus threatening him because his idiot brother had chosen to be...well, an idiot, Damon was left irritated and in a reluctant state of sobriety. To remedy this, Damon embarked down the grand staircase of the boarding house, intent on quenching his thirst in his dimly lit parlour. However, just as he reached for a glass, his eyes descended upon the imposing figure of the Original Hybrid standing in his doorway.
"I think it's time we had a long overdue drink, don't you?" Klaus inquired, his lips curling into a sly smile.
"I'd say we're overdue," Damon responded, offering a fake smile as he reached for two crystal glasses.
The Original Hybrid stepped further into the lavishly decorated room, casting a keen eye around the boarding house with his own eyes this time. "Well, you've been so busy with all your plotting and scheming."
"You know me." Damon looked at his selection before landing on his favourite bourbon, one he had laced with vervain himself. "Never miss a chance to plan an epic failure."
"Don't be so hard on yourself. Who would have guessed your family would betray you?" Klaus remarked casually as he clasped his hands behind his back, a habit that only accentuated his intimidating presence, leaving others to wonder what tricks he has up his sleeve.
Damon, pouring himself two fingers of the vervain-laced bourbon, couldn't resist a smirk. "Well, I got a front row seat when your sister lied to you."
"Yeah, well she's fickle that one. And you say you have no idea of her whereabouts?" Klaus enquired.
"That's the thing with younger siblings. You just never know what they're going to do." Looking back at the Original Damon gave him a mocking smile. "You're just lucky that one of your hybrids managed to sneak past Mikael and save you. You should probably give them a gold star."
"That wasn't one of my hybrids." Klaus tried unsuccessfully to suppress his smile, choosing to look down at his shoes in a moment of bashfulness that often came when his partner in crime crossed his mind. It was the first time Damon had ever seen a genuine smile on his face, making him look thoughtfully at the hybrid.
Damon rolled his eyes in realisation. "Let me guess. It was your little girlfriend, Olive."
"So, you've heard of her," Klaus acknowledged, a proud smile adorning his face at her success.
"Yep," Damon poured the untainted bourbon into the crystal glass, only giving the Original one finger. "I have to say I was surprised when I heard. I thought she had higher standards." Damon widened his eyes at Klaus, trying to highlight his shock that someone would willingly associate themselves with him.
"I'm just lucky that someone set the bar so low for me then, aren't I?" Klaus raised his eyebrow at Damon, giving him a hard look. Damon stretched his hand out to the Original, glass in hand. "Drink?"
"Drink?"
Klaus reached his hand out from behind his back to meet Damon halfway to get his drink. "Cheers, mate!" Raising the glass in thanks, Klaus took a sip of the burning liquid.
"Down the hatch."
After sipping their drinks, Klaus made a revealing comment about their shared grievances. "You know, we've actually got a lot in common, you and I."
"Really? Well, yeah. Maybe we can bond over our mutual loathing of my brother. Why are you so mad at him? He stole something?" Damon mused, pouring himself another glass.
"My family, the Originals. They were daggered, waiting to be woken up when Mikael was gone, and he went in and pinched the bloody lot." Klaus moved closer to Damon, his bitterness about being bested evident.
"Of course, he did. Such a buzzkill, my baby bro," the vampire quipped. "Well, I'd love to find him. The trouble is, I sure as hell don't work for you or care about any of this."
"You know, your drink stinks of vervain, so I can't compel you." Damon looked down at his drink. "There'd be no point in killing you because you are one of the few people that can help me get what I want, and it would cause too much of a headache if you died. It seems that a demonstration is in order." Damon looked confused at his statement as Klaus reached into his side pocket and pulled out his phone.
"You people seem to respond best to dramatic displays of violence. Perhaps now you'll understand how far my reach is and actually put in some effort into finding your brother." Klaus quickly dialled a number and placed the phone to his ear, a secret smile marking his face. "There he is! That thing you were told to do... why don't you go ahead and get on with it?"
Tensions ran high in the Gilbert/Saltzman house. Tyler's sudden and unexpected presence, along with his newfound access to their home, had left the two older residents on edge, their minds fraught with worries about the potential dangers this could cause. Learning more about the sire bond only added to their mounting anxiety. The most concerning revelation was Jeremy's apparent lack of awareness of how dangerous his actions were, treating the situation as a joke.
During their lunch, Jeremy's phone rang, prompting him to move to the corner of the room for some privacy, though it was pointless in the presence of a hybrid. After hanging up the phone, Jeremy returned to the table.
"What was that about?" his sister asked.
"Huh? Nothing." Jeremy reached down to gather some of the dirty plates on the table, stacking them on top of each other before making his way to the kitchen.
"I've got to go," Tyler mumbled, attempting to maintain his composure. "Umm, thanks for the food offer, but..." his sentence trailed off, leaving the rest unspoken, as he wasn't quite sure what to say.
"Next time," Alaric responded, believing the hybrid's tense goodbye was a result of the mini-integration they had just had. Tyler quickly made his way to the front door, casting a final glance back to the kitchen, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jeremy but could not see past the dining room from his vantage point. He then retreated outside, spotting a vampire across the street gesturing to a nearby vehicle.
"That was illuminating," Alaric remarked as he began collecting the stray glasses on the table, while Elena gathered the forks and spoons.
"So, Tyler Lockwood is a lunatic who has access to our house," Elena commented, shaking her head in disbelief. Home should be the one place you feel safe in. Thanks to Tyler and the sire bond, that was gone.
"I mean this whole sire bond thing is... wild," the hunter added, shaking his head, clearly struggling to grapple with this new information. "I don't think even Tyler is fully aware of what little reason lies behind what he's saying. It's weird cult logic."
"Well, great," Elena said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "That's a wonderful influence for you, Jer..." She trailed off, looking for Jeremy who had disappeared from her view. Stepping back, she spotted her brother pulling out a large kitchen knife from the drawer.
"Jeremy, what are you doing?" she asked, her brow furrowing in concern, while both Alaric and Elena turned their attention towards the teenager.
Instead of answering, Jeremy rolled up his left sleeve, and with deliberate force, made a deep cut into his forearm. Blood gushing out of the wound, cascading down onto the pristine marble kitchen table. Elena's scream pierced the air, the cutlery she once held clattering on the floor, abandoned. She rushed into the kitchen, her heart pounding, her horror intensifying as she saw the open flesh of her brother's arm. Her trembling hands hastily grabbed a kitchen towel hanging from one of the drawers, desperately trying to stop the bleeding.
However, Elena's efforts proved futile in the face of Jeremy's distressing determination, seemingly unaffected by the blood loss. Jeremy's distant, glazed eyes revealed his trance as he loudly proclaimed, "One of you must die or I will have to keep cutting until Stefan is found." With each chilling word, he moved the knife upwards along his arm, creating another deep cut just inches away from where Elena desperately held the kitchen towel. Elena adjusted the towel already on her brother's arm, trying to cover the next wound as it began to spew blood. The horrifying realisation set in that Jeremy showed no signs of stopping.
In the midst of this crimson nightmare, Alaric stood rooted in shock, a horrified witness to the young boy's self-inflicted wounds. Paralysed, he watched as Jeremy relentlessly cut himself, each new gash growing deeper and longer. Elena, her hands stained with her brother's warm blood, fought to hold back tears as she desperately called for Alaric, finally breaking his paralysing shock.
"He's being compelled by Elena," Alaric explained after gaining some composure, his mind clearing from the clouds of disbelief. He quickly fetched another dish towel and hurried to the harrowing scene, futilely pressing it against the bleeding wound.
"How do we stop him?" Elena implored frantically, her eyes brimming with tears as she fought to stop her brother from bleeding out. She didn't know what to do. There was so much blood. Her brother's blood coated her hands. It was so warm. She always forgot how warm blood really was and how dark it was. Would the blood stain the counter? Should she lay down a plastic sheet? And the towels—when had they last been cleaned? Could he get an infection from dirty dish towels? What if there were fungi or spores on the fabric that entered his bloodstream? Was that something a doctor could fix?
Alaric, fuelled by urgency, released Jeremy's arm and tried to wrest the knife from the boy's grasp. The towel that had been pressed against Jeremy's shoulder fell to the floor, soaked in blood. Despite his young age, Jeremy clung to the weapon with incredible strength, no doubt a result of the compulsion. Elena swiftly stepped aside as the blade swung through the air during the struggle between the two men. Following a tense and desperate struggle, Alaric successfully wrested the knife from Jeremy's grasp, causing the boy to stumble and collapse onto the bloodied ground."
As soon as Alaric placed the knife on the countertop, Jeremy scrambled back up to the knife drawer, muttering frantically, 'I have to keep cutting.' The metallic tang of blood filled the room, staining everything in its path with a deep red hue, contrasting the lovely white that used to house the happy memories of the Gilbert family.
Jeremy, NO!" With a cry of desperation, Alaric leaped across the room, his heart pounding, and seized Jeremy. He wrestled the struggling boy, forcing him back down. Alaric could feel the boy's wild heartbeat racing and hear his ragged breaths as he wrapped an arm around Jeremy's head, pinning it in place while using his other arm to restrain any dangerous movements
Alaric continued to hold the boy down, forcing himself to ignore the overpowering metallic scent that wafted up his nose and soaked into his bones. 'He's just going to keep doing this until one of us dies,' Alaric said gravely, locking eyes with Elena, his mind clear.
'What do we do?' Elena's voice quivered as she tried to remain strong, clinging to the bloody kitchen towel.
'You have to kill me,' Alaric said evenly, looking at Elena with a determined and pained expression. The room seemed to still, the weight of his words hung heavily in the air.
What?" Elena stared disbelievingly at her guardian, her brain unable to comprehend the words he was uttering.
"You're the doppelgänger, Elena," Alaric continued, his grip on Jeremy unwavering as he used his shirt to anchor him, paying no mind to his frantic struggles. "I'll come back. Jeremy won't."
Elena took the knife from the countertop, but her trembling hands hesitated. Her gaze fixated on the blade, still tainted with her innocent brother's blood. Loud tears fell down on the steel blade, mingling with the crimson stains. How could she stab him? What if they were wrong, and he couldn't come back from this? Doubts flooded her mind as she desperately tried to think of a less violent solution.
"I-I can't," Elena stammered.
"You have to," Alaric implored as gently as he could, but the desperation in his eyes conveyed the urgency of the situation. Nodding to herself, Elena kneeled beside him, ignoring the blood rapidly soaking her jeans. She raised the knife above her head with one hand, looking at Alaric once more, seeking his permission. "Do it, Elena!
Her hand immediately descended, striking his neck with unwavering determination. As she withdrew the blade, a chilling gasp escaped her, and an accompanying torrent of blood gushed forth from the wound. Unconsciously, Alaric moved his arms away from the compelled boy and held his hand against his neck, pointlessly trying to stop the bleeding. The crimson liquid overflowed from his fingers, definitely dripping down into the already stained floor, where their blood mingled together in a grotesque dance.
Momentarily free from the teacher's grip, Jeremy seizes the opportunity to reach for the knife inside the open drawer. He clutched the knife, his eyes scanning the kitchen, the room already soaked in his blood, though he seemed unable to fully comprehend it. Before he could take out the blade and place it against his unmarked arm, his eyes shifted over to the motionless form of Alaric on the kitchen floor, his eyes wide open, but devoid of life.
"Jeremy?" Elena's voice trembled as her tear-filled eyes searched his, looking for some sign of recognition or clarity.
Gradually, the glazed look in his eyes started to fade, replaced by confusion and a growing awareness of his surroundings. He blinked repeatedly, trying to clear his head.
Once his senses returned, Jeremy began to register the sharp pain emanating from his left arm. Lowering his eyes, he saw seven angry cuts on his arm, his hand, gripping a bloodied knife. He watched as the blood dripped down the knife onto the floor, and he noticed a large pool of blood coming towards him. Following its path, he saw his sister kneeling next to Alaric, a bloodied knife in her hand. The floor was drenched in blood, making it impossible for Jeremy to see the black and blue tiles, which continued to spill from Alaric's lifeless form.
Elena? What happened?" Jeremy asked, his voice breathless from exertion that he couldn't recall. His heart was beating frantically in his ears, but he was confused as to why, unable to come up with an explanation.
Elena rushed up to her brother, enveloping him in a tight hug, dropping the knife to the floor next to Alaric's lifeless form. Her arms were wrapped around his torso like vines, not bothered by the fact that her once pristine clothes were now stained with his blood. "You're okay. You're okay," she murmured, pulling back to hold his face in her hands gently. Her tears flowed freely as she struggled to calm her breathing. "Everything's okay.
Giving her brother a sad smile, Elena released him from her hold and reached down for a somewhat bloodied dish towel. She pressed it against his bleeding arm, slowing down the blood flow as much as she could.
Jeremy, still trying to comprehend the chaos around him with a light head, frowned at his sister. "I don't understand. What happened to Alaric?"
"He's gonna be alright." Elena looked back towards her guardian and sucked in a deep breath. "I need you to hold this against your arm, okay?" She moved away from her brother, racing to the cabinet next to the fridge to get out the first aid kit.
"Who were you talking to on the phone earlier?" Elena looked up from the bandages and stared imploringly at her brother.
Jeremy tried to recall the call he had received, his last memory before the blood overtook his vision. He widened in realisation, "It was Klaus!"
You were compelled, Jeremy! We need to call Damon; he can heal you." Elena's shaking hands reached into her back pocket, calling on the older Salvatore brother she had come to rely on.
Meanwhile, just outside, Tyler and the vampire remained seated in the car parked across the street from the Gilbert residence. After hearing Elena on the phone with the older Salvatore brother, the vampire inserted his keys into the ignition, starting the car's engine. The vampire looked over at the young hybrid sitting in the passenger seat, whose guilt bore down on his chest like a weighted vest. Tyler couldn't shake the memory of Elena's heart-wrenching screams as she watched her brother cut himself and was forced to kill the last parental figure in her life. The vampire drove away at a steady speed, unbothered by the echoes of tears that haunted Tyler.
Not long after the hybrid left the boarding house, Damon received a panicked call from Elena that had him rushing straight to her place. The overpowering scent of blood hit him in the face long before he reached the door. As he entered the kitchen, a gruesome scene unfolded before his eyes. Dark, crimson blood was everywhere, coating the floor, splattered on the walls, and even marked the ceiling. It was like a scene from a horror movie, just before the hero realises that the murderer has killed their friends, and that they were next. The people in the kitchen were in a similar state. Everyone was covered in blood.
Seeing Elena covered in blood, that was something he never got used to.
She was holding gauze against her brother's arm as she tried to bandage up the open wounds. However, the bandages were quickly soaking up the blood from her hands and his wounds, rendering them of no use. Not far away, Alaric lay motionless on the floor, a knife resting beside his head. By this point, most of the bleeding had ceased, not that it mattered really. The damage had been done.
Damon acted quickly, biting his wrist and shoving it into the mouth of the young Gilbert without so much as a 'How are you?' He instructed Elena to move Alaric out of the kitchen, deeming it too morbid for the teacher to awaken to a scene of his own blood.
Once Jeremy was healed, he retreated upstairs to change out of his blood-soaked clothes. He didn't bother to keep anything he wore today; he threw them straight into the trash. Alone for the first time, tears welled up behind his eyes, determined to escape. But Jeremy couldn't cry. This wasn't the time for crying. Covering his face with his hands, Jeremy's breaths came in ragged gasps as he took long, deliberate breaths to regain control over his emotions.
Returning downstairs, he saw that Alaric had been moved to the couch with a large bathroom towel underneath him so that the blood wouldn't mark their couch. Elena sat across from Alaric, holding his hand and fiddling with the ring on his finger. As Jeremy sat on the chair closest to the couch, watching for any tiny movement from Alaric, Damon returned from the kitchen. His hands bore red stains, and the strong scent of blood was replaced by the smell of bleach and some other cleaning agent that Jeremy was not familiar with.
How is he?" Damon asked after coming back from the kitchen. He had spent the last ten minutes trying to clean as much blood as possible, but there was only so much he could do.
"He's dead, but he had his ring on," Elena answered without looking up from the ring in question.
"What the hell happened here?" Damon raised his hand in exasperation, trying to make sense of the gruesome horror show he had just walked into. It was clear that Klaus had orchestrated this nightmare-inducing demonstration.
Elena looked up at Damon as she answered, scared to look at her brother, worried that the sight of blood on his clothes would cause her to break down. "Jeremy was compelled to cut himself until one of us died. I stabbed Ric, but he should be fine when he wakes up. All we can do now is wait.
Damon furrowed his brow, looking over the young Gilbert curiously as he noticed an important piece of hardware missing. "Jeremy, why aren't you wearing vervain? Where's your bracelet?"
"I don't know." Jeremy looked down at his wrist, not remembering when it would have been removed.
"It was Tyler! It had to have been. That's why he was hanging out with you, to get you off the vervain," Elena exclaimed, her distaste toward the hybrid increasing even more.
"Klaus is trying to send us a message. He wants-"
"It wasn't Klaus." Jeremy interrupted with a shake of his head. He thought back to the last few days he and Tyler spent together. The only time his memory was uncertain was the day Tyler introduced him to a woman.
"What are you talking about?" Damon tilted his head, confused as to how this wasn't Klaus. He had seen him make the call.
Jeremy replied, "Klaus was on the phone, but it wasn't him that compelled me. I remember when I was with Tyler, there was this girl with him. I think she was the one that compelled me."
"Did you get a name?" He asked, stepping closer to the chair Jeremy was occupying, hoping that he wasn't going to say what he knew he was going to say.
"Olive." Fuck.
Damon's reaction was immediate. "Great. Great, just fucking great." He turned away from the Gilberts, staring down at the lifeless body of his best friend. Her first move against them and she managed to get Elena to kill Alaric without ever being in the same room as them.
"Who is she?" Elena looked up at Damon, who had started pacing behind the couch, worried by his reaction to this woman's name.
"It doesn't matter. All that matters is that we have to find Stefan and get him to get rid of those coffins," Damon said, trying to keep focus.
"Coffins?" Elena repeated, her mind racing to link all the pieces together.
"Yep! So, all we have to do is find four coffins, and voila! No one else on your family's Christmas list needs to die!" Damon shook his head in a mocking celebration, but he and everyone else in the room knew it was futile.
Jeremy couldn't contain his frustration any longer. "Wait, that's your big plan?" Jeremy stood up and confronted the vampire. "To steal back four dead Originals so an evil hybrid and some chick doesn't kill me and everyone else we know?" Jeremy asked disbelievingly.
"You got a better idea?" he asked sarcastically.
"Yeah! Let's get the hell out of here! Pack our bags and go!" Jeremy exclaimed.
"Hey, Jeremy, calm down." Elena stood up and got between the two men, trying to keep her brother from working himself up too much.
"No, no! I'm not gonna calm down, Elena! This happens every time, no matter what we do! Get on my case about school and work...who cares! None of us are gonna make it out of this town alive," Jeremy stormed out of the house, unable to stay in the house where he was nearly murdered. Again.
Elena ran a hand through her hair, feeling overwhelmed and drained. She wanted to stop Jeremy, fearful that Klaus or this Olive woman would try something again but knew that her brother needed some space from this house. She did too. Elena glanced sympathetically at Alaric, then turned to Damon, and thought back to what Damon had said.
"He said he wants his family back."
Damon immediately stepped closer to the doppelgänger, shaking his head vigorously, "No! No! I know what you're thinking. The answer is no!"
Elena, however, persisted, desperation and naïve hope lingering in her words. "If we give him Rebekah…."
"Yeah, then Klaus undaggers her, the first thing she does is kill you! Frying pan fire. Not an option!" Gesticulating dramatically, Damon struggled to understand how Elena could be so careless about her safety.
Elena continued, ignoring his warnings, "Klaus' coffins...How many did you say they were?"
Deep in the woods, Tyler sat on a weathered tree stump, sipping from a can of beer that he had stashed here a few days ago. He surveyed his surroundings, casting a watchful gaze upon the trio of vampires who shadowed him. They had been ordered to monitor his activities as he dealt with Jeremy. Something about losing control. But he knew that was bullshit. This pointless surveillance was because of Olive; she was the one who had insisted on it as part of his ongoing punishment. She didn't trust him. Tyler couldn't help but be insulted. After all, he was Klaus' first successful hybrid. You would think that would be enough. Sure, his friends were against Klaus, but he was loyal. Klaus freed him; he owed him everything.
The quiet woods were visited by a mild breeze flowing through the air, causing the leaves to dance. A gentle glow of the sun, on the cusp of setting, was casting the forest in a soft radiance.
Suddenly, a snap broke through Tyler's contemplation. He, along with the other vigilant vampires, turned their attention to the source. They saw the recently healed Jeremy slowly approaching with a crossbow aimed directly at Tyler's head. Shaking his head at the audacity of the young human, Tyler rose up from the stump to face his friend. He knew that Jeremy would try something in retaliation; he just didn't know he would be so stupid about it.
"Don't do it, Jeremy," Tyler warned.
"Why not? You stabbed my back, I stab yours," Jeremy retorted, adjusting the crossbow's aim as he stopped a metre away from the hybrid.
"I didn't stab you in the back!" Tyler protested.
"Is that why you wanted to hang out? To get me off the vervain?"
"I had to do as I was told. She said I had to!" Frustration welled up within Tyler, and he crushed the empty beer can in his hand.
"That vampire that compelled me, is that who you're talking about?"
"I didn't know she was going to make you do that. I swear."
"You could have said no! I thought you were my friend!"
"I am your friend. You don't say no to her, Jeremy. I'm sired by Klaus, but I have to do what she tells me."
"Why did she compel me and not you?" Jeremy wondered. It didn't make sense to him. Why would they have Tyler get close to him, let his guard down, and not compel him. Why would they do that?
"I'm not allowed to compel anyone. She says I have to earn that." Jeremy's grip on the crossbow never lessened. Trying to explain his predicament to Jeremy, Tyler motioned around them. "Look around you, Jeremy."
The young hunter turned his head slowly to the side and saw three vampires encircling Tyler. Clad uniformly in black suits, they bore a cold and calculating air. Two were men, while the woman standing behind Tyler omitted the tie, her hands were clasped in front of her as she watched Jeremy with dead eyes as the wind gently moved the stray hairs from her bun. All three vampires maintained a distance of about 5 metres, clearly listening to their conversation.
"This isn't all black and white. You have no idea what's been going on." Jeremy slowly looked back at the hybrid in front of him, confused as to what exactly Klaus was up to. Following his hybrids? Guarding them? Still, for all his confusion and fear, Jeremy managed to remain calm and never wavered his aim with the crossbow. "If you give Klaus his family back, then she'll leave you alone. If you don't, things are going to get a lot worse," Tyler implored earnestly, his brow furrowing in concern. He didn't want to lose anyone else.
Before Jeremy could respond, the vampire who stood behind Tyler abruptly appeared in front of the human, blocking his path.
"You've overstayed your welcome. It's time for you to go," the vampire stated dispassionately. Jeremy began to walk backward, his crosshair slowly moving between Tyler and the mysterious vampire. When he had reached a safe distance, Jeremy lowered his crossbow and hastily exited the woods.
As Jeremy gradually faded out of view, Tyler went to pick up another beer beside the tree stump, successfully opening it just as the phone began to ring. His hand froze in front of him, watching anxiously as the vampire in front of him retrieved her phone from her pocket, not bothering to look at the caller ID.
"Hello? Yes, he is. Of course," she responded before holding the phone out for Tyler. "She wants to talk to you." Nervously, Tyler picked up the phone and took a deep breath before placing the phone to his ear.
"Hello? Yes, I did. I'm sorry. I wasn't-. Yea, he got the message. Tony is on his way there now."
After the brothers' tussle in the dry grass in front of the old witch's house, they began their solemn journey back towards the witch's dwelling, enveloped in tense silence. Stefan went inside first, leaving Damon standing just outside of the threshold.
"Do you know what I can't figure out? Why save me?" Damon questioned, his eyes fixed on his brother, bewildered by the fact that Stefan had betrayed them to save him but was also risking their lives by taking Klaus' family away from him. The situation was so absurd that Damon wondered if his brother had gone insane. "Was it brotherly love, guilty conscience? Is the switch on, is the switch off?"
"You have somewhere you need to be, Damon?" Stefan asked dismissively, looking past his brother's shoulder.
"Reflection. That's not gonna work on me! I invented that," he declared, pointing at himself.
"We're done. Can't you just go away?" Stefan attempted to walk further back into the house but was unable to escape from his brother's insistent questions.
"Not until you tell me why you saved me. You owe me that."
"I don't owe you anything."
"Fine, next question. Why did you steal the coffins?"
"Because Klaus' family is the one weakness I can use against him," Stefan answered, looking his brother hard in the eyes. Despite his seemingly emotionless demeanour, Damon could see the anguish hidden deep within him. Klaus had broken his brother.
"Use against him for what? You're not going to kill him; you know how I know? Cause there was only one way to kill him, and you blew that to save me." Under his breath, Damon muttered, "Dumbass."
"You're wrong, Damon. Klaus doesn't just get to live forever," Stefan asserted defiantly. "The villain of this story does not get to win. If he won, then everything that Stefan had done over the summer was... it would be for nothing. There would be no greater reason for these people's deaths. If they died and that led to Klaus' demise, it would mean something. That becoming the Ripper again served a purpose. If he couldn't do this, he would have to fully confront his actions, and he wasn't ready to do that. "There's another way. There has to be."
"I gotta say, Stef, you couldn't have chosen a worse time to embrace your murderous, devious side."
"And why's that?" Stefan frowned, expecting Damon to say something about putting Elena in unnecessary danger.
"I got a message from an old friend," Damon revealed, his body tensing marginally.
"You don't have any friends," Stefan interjected, trying to provoke his brother.
Ignoring Stefan's attempts to provoke him, Damon continued, "He told me Olive turned to the dark side and wants our heads after trying to kill her latest conquest."
"I'm not afraid of her," Stefan declared with confidence. Truthfully, he didn't think Olive was real. There were too many contradicting stories about her, and if she was, there's no way she would be on team Klaus.
"Neither am I." Lie. "I'm more worried about the hundreds of vampires that get on their knees for her."
"Yeah, well, I've got a house full of angry dead witches and a Bennett witch on my side. I like those odds," the younger Salvatore countered, smirking at Damon, the heavy weight of his arrogance cocooning him.
"Fair enough. But whatever you're doing, I want in."
"I don't need your help," he asserted, a faint chuckle escaping his lips at the idea.
"Really? Last time I checked, you were hiding in a haunted house," Damon mocked.
"I'm in this alone, Damon. This is my problem. It's my job to fix it."
"You go after Klaus and Olive; you have to be cutthroat and ruthless. I'm much better at that than you. Come on, brother. What do you say? If you're going to keep saving my life, at least make it for a good reason."
"You want in?"
"Yeah."
"Ok, but it's just me and you. Elena stays out of it." Elena and her never-ending quest to make things better for the people she loved had a tendency to backfire, and he couldn't afford to fail right now.
"Deal."
"Follow me," Stefan gestured with a nod of his head, heading further into the house.
"Wait, I'm not so welcome there." Damon hesitated to enter the house, fearful that the wrath of the temperamental witches would try and burn him again.
"Don't worry, Damon. We all want the same thing."
With trepidation, Damon crossed the threshold and followed his brother deeper into the house. Each creak of the stairs echoed loudly as they descended into the dimly lit basement. Wooden panels covered the windows, allowing narrow streaks of light to pierce through the darkness, while the unlit candles remained scattered in the shadows.
"Have a look."
"What? Klaus is allergic to dust?" Damon quipped, thinking his brother had truly gone off the deep end and was starting to see things.
"Look again," Stefan urged.
Damon shifted his focus from his brother to the vacant basement, and his eyes widened as four coffins suddenly appeared in the centre of the room.
"The witches hate Klaus almost as much as we do," Damon said with a knowing smirk.
"So even if he comes into the house," Stefan continued.
"He won't be able to find them."
Damon and Stefan shared identical smirks, relishing the chance to pull one over on the hybrid.
Elena's footsteps created a soft thud as she paced back and forth in the dimly lit living room of the Boarding House. The shadows danced along the walls, casting eerie silhouettes that seemed to mirror the chaos in her mind. Anxiety gnawed at her, twisting her insides with each passing moment. She was growing increasingly fretful, consumed by thoughts of Klaus not showing up or, worse, Damon interfering and ruining everything. Her heartbeat quickened in her chest, a constant drumming of unease that echoed her fears.
Elena's trembling hands found refuge in the worn fabric of her jeans, absently wiping away the sweat that had gathered on her palms. She didn't understand why it was so hard for Damon to accept that this was her best chance at protecting her brother. She was responsible for him. If anything happened to Jeremy because of her…. she couldn't even think about that.
Just as Elena was wearing out the carpet, a knock on the door caused her to freeze momentarily before quickly heading to the door, wiping her sweaty hands on her jeans again. Opening the door slowly, she found Klaus standing before her. His demeanour exuded an unsettling calm, which only magnified her inner turmoil.
"Thank you for coming," Elena said, stepping back to allow Klaus to enter the house.
"I trust you have news of Stefan?" Klaus inquired, He surveyed the room with a casual air, half expecting to see Damon glaring at him from some hidden corner.
"I couldn't find him. But I have something else," Elena replied. She avoided Klaus's intense gaze as she led him toward the cellar down the hidden stairs.
With a deep breath, she unlocked the heavy door to the cellar, the metallic clanging of the key against the lock resonating in her ears. The door creaked open slowly, the sound a haunting symphony that sent shivers down her spine. Her heart raced as she prepared to take the final step and protected her brother.
The door creaked open slowly, but instead of seeing the blonde Original laying daggered on the floor, the room was eerily empty except for a bouquet of baby's breath and daisies resting where Rebekah had once been.
I don't—I don't understand," Elena stammered, her voice quivering with uncertainty as she ventured further into the dimly lit cellar. Her gaze darted around the room, desperately searching for any sign of Rebekah, as if the Original vampire might miraculously reappear. "She was here!" Elena turned to face Klaus, her eyes pleading for him to believe her. That this wasn't an attempt to trick the hybrid.
"By her I assume you mean my sister?" Klaus mused with a knowing glint in his eyes as he strolled into the room. He maintained an air of casual indifference, but his attention remained fixed on the bouquet of flowers resting on the floor. Slowly, he bent down and collected the flowers, slipping them into his jacket pocket.
"Yes, she was here."
"The deal is off if you have nothing to offer me," Klaus declared. Elena stared at Klaus suspiciously. Why wasn't he panicking? He was too nonchalant about the whole situation. He wouldn't be like this unless-
"You knew," she accused, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and fear.
Klaus tilted his head slightly, his blue eyes fixed on the doppelgänger, scrutinising her every word and gesture. "What did I know?" he inquired, feigning innocence. "That you stabbed my sister in the back, quite literally, as she was getting ready. Manipulating her with the promise of our mother's necklace, only to lock her away in the cellar as if she was some rodent." as he spoke, her tone grew more heated. As cruel as he knew his sister could be, she didn't deserve to be manipulated in such a way. Rebekah was sensitive. She was dealing with the loss of her mother again and Elena used her vulnerability against her.
Elena's eyes widened as she realised Klaus had somehow uncovered her deceit. Fear crept over her like a shroud, and she took a small, fearful step back, her back brushing against the cold stone walls. Her voice trembled as she attempted to speak, "How do you-"
"I would stop questioning what it is I don't know," Klaus interrupted, his tone dismissive, "and just accept the fact that I will always be one step ahead of you." He paused for a moment, the weight of his gaze bearing down on Elena. "Now, if you have nothing to offer me, then I'll just be off. I might pay your brother a visit on my way back."
Panic welled up within Elena as she cried out, desperation and uncertainty in her voice, "I don't know where Stefan is." She didn't know what to do. How could she sentence Stefan to certain death to save her brother? How was she supposed to make this decision?
"We both know you're lying," Klaus retorted, his voice dripping with a knowing confidence. "It seems your love for Stefan is stronger than your bond with your brother. Fortunately, you have no shortage of loved ones. If I don't find my family the question you start asking yourself is who is going to die next. Caroline? Bonnie? Matt? Damon?"
Elena felt a pang of fear and desperation as Klaus listed the names of her friends and family, the weight of their lives resting squarely on her shoulders.
"I'll show myself out," Klaus continued, turning away from her and starting to ascend the cellar stairs.
But Elena couldn't let it end this way. She couldn't let Klaus harm anyone else, especially not her brother. With a burst of determination, she rushed out of the cellar, her frantic footsteps echoing in the dimly lit space. Klaus halted, a small, triumphant smile forming on his lips as he heard her approach.
"Wait! Wait. I can tell you where to look. I have a... rough idea where he is. Is that enough for you to leave Jeremy alone?" Elena implored, her voice trembling with a mix of anxiety and hope. She stared at Klaus's back, her eyes pleading for mercy.
Turning around slowly, Klaus kept his hands behind his make and gave Elena a sly smile. "For now."
Once again, the Gilbert residence has been tainted with blood, this time belonging to the hybrid who had compelled the ambulance away from a wounded Alaric. Nevertheless, the blood was still the same. They still have the same problem. It had been the fifth time someone had been attacked with a knife in this house. The fourth time that someone was seriously injured in the kitchen. It wasn't safe in her home for anyone anymore. They got lucky with Jeremy, but she didn't know what would have happened if Alaric wasn't there.
Attempting to distract herself, without much success, Elena tried to wash the blood out of the rag that had gotten more use today than ever before. As she watched the diluted blood seep from the rag, she heard Damon return to the kitchen after disposing of the dead hybrid from her porch.
"Did you take care of him?" Elena inquired, her gaze still fixated on the running water as she tried to rid the rag of its macabre stains.
Damon, leaning against the counter, replied with a sombre nod. "Yeah. Tony the headless hybrid is down at the bottom of Steven's quarry."
"What about Alaric?"Elena turned off the tap, acknowledging the futility of her attempts to salvage the blood-soaked rag. They would just have to throw it out.
"Took care of him, too. He'll be fine. How are you?" Damon inquired, his brow furrowing in concern.
"I think I got most of the blood off the porch."
"Elena, look at me." At Damon coaxing, Elena turned to face him, holding the damp rag in her hand. "It's going to be ok."
However, Elena couldn't suppress her inner turmoil any longer, and her confession tumbled out. "I have to tell you something," she began nervously, laying out the damp rag to the side to dry. "I made a deal with Klaus. In exchange for Jeremy to be left alone, I offered him Rebekah," Elena confessed, watching as his eyes immediately widened in fear.
"What? No. No, no, no you did not do that. She-" Damon began to protest, but was cut off by Elena shaking her head vigorously and placing her hand on Damon's shoulder.
"I didn't," she clarified. "I was about to but when we went to the cellar it was empty. I had just checked it the night before, but when I opened the door, she wasn't there. Just flowers."
"Fucking, Olive," Damon seethed, his frustration and anger palpable. He moved away from Elena, venting his fury by kicking a nearby chair. The chair collided with the wall before collapsing onto the floor. "Sneaky little bitch must have broken Rebekah out when we weren't looking."
"Who is she, Damon?" Elena asked, somewhat disturbed by his reaction.
Damon, still grappling with his own emotions, conceded, "Someone proving themselves to be a force to be reckoned with. I gotta admit she is good." He ran his hands through his hair in exacerbation, trying to regain his composure for Elena's sake, his other hand resting on his hip.
Alarmed, Elena pressed on, "Is she dangerous?"
"I don't know. It's hard to know what the truth is, but after what she did with Jeremy today...she needs to go." Damon, deep in thought, looked at the wall momentarily before turning his gaze back to the doppelgänger. "What did you offer Klaus instead?"
"What?" Elena tried to evade the question, busying herself with the bucket in the sink.
However, Damon's patience was waning. He strode back to the young girl and firmly turned off the tap, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Elena, what did you do?" he demanded.
"I told Klaus where to start looking for Stefan," she confessed dejectedly, unable to meet Damon's eyes as she examined her blood-stained hands. She could bear to see the disappointment in his eyes.
"What?!"
"Just a rough idea! He was going to kill Jeremy! I had to give him something," she reasoned, trying to explain her actions.
"But now you've led him right to Stefan. How do we know he's not going to figure it out right away? There aren't that many places for him to hide an all-powerful immoral family."
"I'm sorry, ok!" Elena snapped in frustration, raising her voice, "But what was I supposed to do? I don't trust Klaus to leave Jeremy alone, but I trust Stefan even less right now. Should I really sacrifice my brother for a guy that proved he doesn't give a shit about me anymore? About Jeremy? I needed to protect my brother and I'm sorry that puts yours in danger, but I don't regret it. It was the only way to save him. Unless you have any insight into Stefan's great plan against Klaus this was my only option." The doppelgänger stood her ground, her hands trembling with the surge of adrenaline as she implored the vampire to understand her actions were born out of desperation. Jeremy was the only family she had left.
"My brother is-sort of running his own show right now." Damon said reluctantly, understanding where she was coming from.
Elena's eyes welled up with tears as she spoke, her voice quivering with emotion, "Yeah. My brother just chopped off someone's head! It's not right. It's not fair. He's 16 years old. He shouldn't have to live like this." The weight of the day's events hang in the air like second hand smoke. Her brother almost died! He killed someone. Her brother was a murderer now. What would Jenna say if she was here right now? What would her parents say?
"Elena." Damon gently cradled her face in his hands, wiping away her tears. Seeing Elena near tears always made him feel powerless. Like he failed to protect her. And today, he had.
"There has to be another way. We have to fix it," Elena whispered softly, her body starting to feel the effects of the day.
Elena tried to turn back to the sink, but Damon stopped her and continued to hold her face, assuring her, "We will. Hey. Elena. We will. Ok?"
At the partially constructed mansion, Klaus is looking down at his slumbering sister, cocooned in her coffin like a resting princess. He looked down at the dagger that had previously been in her back, now resting in her stomach, allowing her to rest comfortably as she slept. He brushed her hair as he studied her delicate features. He knew that when she eventually woke up, that there would undoubtedly be disappointment in her eyes. Betrayal, furry, all this he could accept. Confident that they could move past this and learn to forgive one another. But when she woke, if she looked at him like Mikeal had, as if he disgusted her. As if he was an abomination. A thousand years of love and family would be gone, tainted by a moment of blind fury. It was always the split second of thoughtlessness that would haunt you.
As he gazed lovingly at his sister, a woman entered the room with a quiet grace. She crossed over to Klaus, side stepping loose floorboards, and wrapped her arms around him from behind, her fingers interlocking in front of his abdomen. Klaus looked down at the small hands around him partially covered by her blue button up shirt, and gently cradled her hands in his, a fond smile on his lips.
"Are you alright?" she whispered softly behind him as she pressed up against his back.
"I'm fine, love." he replied, leaning into her touch and gently rubbing her arms in appreciation. "Thank you for bringing her back to me."
"It's what I'm here for," she said, moving her head to the side so that Klaus could see her face. "She'll forgive you, you know that, right?"
"How are you so sure?"
"Because she loves you. No matter how upset she gets, she will die for you. And she knows you would do the same for her."
"I'll let you be optimistic for the both of us," Klaus said, gazing down at his partner with a fond smile. He reached out and playfully tugged on her short hair.
"Your plan worked perfectly," Klaus continued. "We now know where to start looking for the coffins."
"I'll get some hybrids to have a quick look around, so we know what's there," she said. Pulling away from Klaus, she stood beside him, placing the bouquet of flowers from the table inside the coffin, resting next to Rebekah.
"Damon knows you're here," Klaus revealed, causing Olive to freeze slightly. "I imagine so does Stefan, if not, he'll know soon enough." The Original ran his hand through her short hair, attempting to reassure her.
"I thought it would take them longer to realise I was here," Olive admitted, her voice slightly raised as she looked down at the coffin, frowning.
"You haven't exactly been discreet, love. Compelling the doppelgänger's brother to bleed himself out tends to draw some attention," Klaus commented, bending down to place a soft kiss on her head. He wrapped one arm around her waist while the other held onto the edge of Rebekah's coffin.
"It was more discreet than your plan," Olive retorted, her voice rising in amusement. "You wanted to hit him with a car. Anyone could see that. Was my plan dramatic? Maybe." She shrugged her shoulders, fully accepting that the blood-filled episode would have clearly caused some issues. "Effective? Yes."
Klaus looks at Olive warmly, thankful for her constant support. He kissed her on the side of her head, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair. As he pulled away, Olive reached over to close the lid of the coffin, standing on her toes to get a better grip. A mournful Klaus watched as she fell into the dark, making a silent vow to himself that he would do better. To not lie to his delicate sister anymore. The next time his sister woke, her family would be returned to her. They would all finally be reunited.
Olive gave him a moment to say his silent goodbyes before she decided to put a smile back on his wonderful face.
"Come on, I made your favourite," Olive said, starting to walk backwards, taking the hand that was resting on her waist in hers. "Boiled potatoes and steamed chicken kidneys."
With his arm stretched out towards her, Klaus chuckled at the description before following her. "I'll never understand why you insist on calling your delicious lasagne that."
"I'm lowering your expectations if something goes wrong."
"Alright then, lead the way." Olive began walking towards the doorway, still holding Klaus' hand when she was gently pulled back.
Looking down at the ground, Klaus inquired, "Wait, where are your shoes?"
"We're inside, Nik. I'm not going to walk around the house with shoes on," Olive replied, rolling her eyes.
"I understand that, but we are in the middle of construction. There's loose nails and random bits on the floor that can hurt you," Klaus gestured to the scattered nails left beyond by the workers.
"Nik, I'm a vampire. I can handle a little cut on my foot. Now come on, dinner is going to get cold-" Before she could finish her sentence, Klaus bent down and lifted her into his arms, eliciting a surprised, "Nik!" from her lips. Carrying her on his side like a football, he headed out the door, a large smile plastered on his face.
"That's better. Now, did you use the good cheese we got in Italy?" the Original asked calmly.
"And the cheese we got from Raelynn," Olive giggled, hair covering her face.