My Tears Ricochet Chapter 4: I Didn't Want to Have to Haunt You, a vampire diaries fanfic

Chapter 4 - I Didn't Want to have to Haunt You

"You're wrong, Damon," Stefan exclaimed as he stormed back into his wrecked bedroom, leaving his brother bloodied and battered in the hallway.

The boarding house was a scene of depressing chaos. The overturned couch laid on its back, the coffee table was in shattered pieces, and the papers scattered around in a disorganised pile on the floor underneath shards of broken glass. The two brothers had spent the entire night locked in a bitter dispute, arguing over what Damon claimed to have witnessed and what it would mean if their sister was indeed still alive. Unfortunately for Damon, his brother was having a hard time coming to terms with this information.

The more Damon pressed on the issue, the more Stefan's fury mounted. Chairs, tables, anything that he could get his hand on, were turned into casualties as he hurled them violently, trying to stop his brother's slanderous when that failed to silence Damon, Stefan tackled him to the ground, resorting to punches and blows in an attempt to end the conversation. Damon didn't hold back, returning each blow with vigour, trying to get his brother to listen.

Stefan was already on edge after his disastrous night, his agitation had yet to subside, only escalating with every abhorrent theory Damon spouted about their innocent sister, slanderously vilifying her. His attempts to besmirch their sister's name was deplorable, trying to justify his own treacherous eyes rather than admit he was wrong. Stefan couldn't bear to hear the baseless allegations, desperate to escape. But like a wounded animal, he found himself without an escape.

The remnants of their fight trailed behind them throughout the night, broken chairs, ripped books, shattered picture frames and endless broken bottles and glasses that led to the young Salvatore's bedroom where the fight continued. A painful mosaic of their torment scattered throughout their once loving home, the possibility of the resurrection of their beloved sister slowly tearing them apart.

"How many times do I have to tell you? I saw her!" Damon's voice was impassioned as he pushed his way into the bedroom, absentmindedly wiping the blood off his lip as he spoke. "I saw her get into the car and drive away."

Stefan's response was vehement, his argument peppered with anger and disbelief. "It was dark! You don't know what you saw!" Stefan exclaimed, hurling a lamp in his brother's direction, which Damon narrowly avoided as it crashed against the wall. "It could have been Klaus and some witch messing with your head."

"I know what I saw Stefan," the older Salvatore stressed, his gaze unwavering.

"She died. She died in 1873. She was buried. End of story."

"You don't think I know that? You think I want to be right? If I'm right that means she has been alive this whole time and didn't tell us. Not to mention she's literally sleeping with the enemy!" he cried, his voice carrying a note of desperation, his anger exacerbated by his brother's refusal to accept the truth. Damon knocked over the stack of books on the table at the thought of that monster touching his baby sister, papers flying about the room.

"If she turned, she would have found us! She would have come to us for help!" Stefan reasoned.

"Not if she didn't know that we were still alive. We have to consider the possibility that she-"

"No, we don't! She is dead, Damon! I will not have you drag her name through the mud. She had a happy, normal life here 200 years ago." Stefan's voice grew increasingly frantic as he spoke. His pacing quickened, a sense of desperation tingeing his every word. He advanced on his brother, pushing him against the wall, fists gripping Damon's black shirt until his knuckles turned white. "You will not take that away from her!"

"You need to calm down!" Damon yelled, staring into his brother's wild and enraged eyes.

"I'll calm down when you stop saying she's back!" Stefan shouted, pushing his brother further into the wall. The contents of the nearby shelf rattled and tumbled to the floor in response to their relentless struggle..

"You know what? Fine." The older Salvatore shoved his brother's arms off him and stormed out of the room.

"What are you doing?" Stefan asked, perplexed by Damon's sudden change in attitude.

"We are gonna get proof." Damon retrieved his leather jacket from the partially destroyed bannister, shrugging it on before heading down the stairs, with his brother trailing closely behind.

At the Mikaelson mansion, the night had cloaked its occupants in serene slumber, their dreams meandering through the corridors of their subconscious. The lovebirds, the heartbeats of this peculiar household, had wrestled with their own wakefulness, the previous evening's events unfolding in their minds like intricate threads, weaving a pattern that refused to fade with the setting sun

As stars painted constellations across the night sky, the young vampire tossed and turned in her restless slumber. Klaus, observed her with vigilant eyes, his presence a silent sentinel against the turmoil that raged within her.Despite her proclamations of readiness, Klaus couldn't shake his doubts. The pain she carried was heavy, resting on her back until it tattooed deep beneath the skin. She was a master of masking emotions, her turbulent feelings obscured beneath layers of indifference and denial. While Klaus had incorrectly learned to manage his anguish by making others suffer alongside him, she sought refuge in distractions, channelling her suffering until it transformed into unnamed ghosts that followed dutifully behind her. Unsure of how to help, Klaus tried to coax them both into the silence of the night, hoping the relentless stampede in her mind would grant her a well-deserved rest.

However, a peaceful rest was not in the cards for anyone in the mostly finished Mikaelson home as the Salvatore brothers barged into the house, shattering the tranquillity of the mansion and plunging it into chaos.

"Klaus? Klaus! Klaus!" Both Salvatore brothers stormed through the house, their voices punctuating the early morning light with a sense of urgency as they embarked on a relentless search for the Hybrid.

"I have supernatural hearing; there really is no point in yelling," Klaus commented, coming down the stairs and into the foyer where the irritated brothers stood. Klaus had clearly been woken up by the brothers, still dressed in long grey pyjama pants and a white t-shirt, with his hair slightly dishevelled.

"Where is Olive?" Damon demanded, his hands twitching with impatience at the sight of the Original.

"Sleeping," the hybrid curtly replied, his arms crossed, his gaze laced with defiance.

"We know who Olive is-"

"No, we don't. It's not her!" Stefan interrupted, his voice hot with frustration.

"Yes, it is!" Damon retorted, locking eyes with his brother in a silent battle of wills.

"Shouldn't you be discussing this in your own home? Where I don't have to listen to this?" Klaus grumbled, feigning disinterest in the brothers' debate.

"Get Olive down here now!" Damon ordered.

"It is 6 o'clock in the morning," Klaus grumbled, his tone laden with irritation. "Why don't you come again at a more reasonable hour, and we can discuss you never seeing Olive later."

"Olive! Olive!" Stefan and Damon cried out, each heading in different directions within the mansion to search for her.

"Shut your mouth before I decide to rip out your tongue," the Original threatened, his eyes blazing with an intensity that dared them to challenge his authority.

Before the argument could escalate further, the front door creaked open, and the faint strains of music spilled into the tense atmosphere. Olive, dressed in black leggings and an oversized hoodie, returned from her exercise, her headphones dangling around her neck. She stepped into the foyer, her bewilderment evident as she encountered the unexpected sight of three men standing before her.

Olive stood rooted in place, her eyes darting between the three individuals, her sense of confusion growing with each passing moment. Her gaze shifted to Klaus, seeking guidance and an understanding of the situation that had unfolded in her absence.

Klaus took the initiative, walking over to the foyer where Olive stood, still somewhat stunned. He positioned himself partly in front of her, creating a protective barrier, overtly aware that she had no ways of disguising herself at the moment. With a touch of sarcasm, he addressed the Salvatores, offering an explanation that concealed the truth. "Well, here she is. You can leave now. She needs to go take a shower and murder some puppies."

Olive remained immobile, her frown deepening as she grappled with the sudden intrusion. Her thoughts raced, bombarding her with questions. Why were they here? How long had they been here? What did they want?

Disregarding Klaus's words, Damon advanced towards the pair, his gaze fixed on Olive's face as he examined her closely in the unforgiving morning light. "Aurora?" he inquired cautiously, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Olive involuntarily flinched at the name, prompting Klaus to intercede and shield her from further scrutiny. He held her hand behind his back, preventing Damon from seeing her reaction. Instead of meeting Damon's gaze, she chose to focus on the painting just behind his head, avoiding any direct eye contact with the probing Salvatore. "I-I don't-"

Klaus, with a hint of annoyance, moved closer to Damon, making his stance clear. "Right. That's enough of that. You need to leave."

Damon, however, remained resolute. "I'm not leaving until she gives me an answer. Are you Aurora?" His question hung in the air, filled with uncertainty. It was a bit difficult for the brothers to determine as it had been years since they had laid eyes on her. Last night was the first time in a hundred years that they had looked at her picture. The woman before them bore a resemblance to their dearly departed sister, but she was older, she didn't have the same youthful visage that had graced their sister for years. Her hair was also much shorter than their sister's, who always had long, graceful tresses that reached her waist. Could this woman be her? She might look like her, but the reality was hard to accept. Elena looked like Katherine; perhaps she was a doppelgänger? Or was this all part of some cruel scheme orchestrated by Klaus to deceive them?

In an attempt to regain control of the situation, Olive released a hollow, exasperated laugh that underscored her growing irritation. She rolled her eyes, a clear indication of her frustration, and her restless movements reflected her unease. She absentmindedly scratched her neck roughly, desperate to alleviate the building unease within her, her actions betraying the underlying anxiety. As she looked towards Damon, she tried to convey her confusion and annoyance. "Look, I didn't know what was going on, but you needed to leav-"

However, before Olive could finish, Stefan intervened. He approached her, with a look of deep contemplation as he observed the telltale signs of anxiety. Memories from their shared childhood surged back to him, like a tidal wave of recognition. Stefan's voice quivered as he uttered a name from the past, a name that held a special place in his heart. "Rora?" Stefan's voice quivered, his words infused with a hopeful vulnerability.

As a child, Aurora would scratch her arms and neck whenever anxiety gripped her. Her skin bore the scars of these compulsive habits, etched in shades of red and sometimes deep purple. He remembered all the times their father would scold her for marking her pale skin, telling her proper ladies keep their hands to themselves. She eventually learned to only scratch her neck, protected by the soft armour of her hair. It seemed this was an instinct that had followed her throughout immortality, her hands unconsciously tormenting her neck.

Stefan's heartfelt revelation resonated with deep emotion as he confirmed, "It's really you." The recognition in his voice was tinged with joy and disbelief, as he welcomed the presence of a long-lost sister back into his life.

For a brief moment, Olive seemed to forget her surroundings and met Stefan's gaze, flinching at the sound of her former name. Her eyes quickly darted to the floor, and her hands continued their frantic scratching at her neck. Blood vessels popped like bubbles under the intense, relentless pressure she applied.

Stefan's eyes filled with happy tears as he gazed upon his sister properly for the first time in 200 years. Losing awareness of his surroundings, Stefan pushed the wary Hybrid away and extended his arms, drawing her into a fervent embrace, oblivious to the turmoil that brewed within her. Her arms hung rigidly by her side, her lack of response a veneer of frozen compliance.

Tears welled in Damon's eyes as he watched the emotional reunion unfold. His heavy form fell against a nearby wall, supporting his worn-out frame. A sense of relief mixed with the agony of time lost and betrayal. "Stefan," he called out gently, drawing his brother's attention.

Confused by his brother's tone, Stefan pulled away from his sister, only to find her crying, her face etched with distress. He tenderly touched her face, oblivious to the way she flinched, tracing the lines of sorrow. His voice trembled with concern as he asked, "Rora? What's-"

Before Stefan could finish his question, his gaze shifted to the Hybrid who watched them intensely. A deep fury began to seep into his bones. A storm of resentment for the man who had stolen his freedom, his life, and now believed that he could keep their sister from them?

Stefan's rage found an outlet as he lunged at Klaus, unleashing a barrage of punches. Klaus practically rolled his eyes at the vampire's antics before swiftly reasserting control over the situation, his patience superior to the Ripper's fury.

In the midst of the escalating chaos, Damon realised that the distraction presented an opportunity. He approached his sister, with determination in his eyes, and took hold of her arm, attempting to guide her towards the exit. "Come on, we're leaving," he instructed.

"What?" resisted Damon's attempt to pull her along, her defiance blazing in her eyes as she wrenched her arm free, a steely glare directed at the vampire. "I'm not going anywhere with you," she retorted, her voice laced with a palpable, simmering anger.

"I know that this is confusing, but we are going to take care of you, okay?" Damon reached out to touch her neck gently, his voice smooth like honey, as if trying to calm her storm of emotions. "We'll protect you from him."

"I don't need your protection. I don't need you," she sneered, pushing him away.

A thud reverberated from behind the pair, and they turned to find Stefan resting injured against the wall, where a hole had been created by his impact when Klaus threw him. The Original dusted himself off before heading back toward the two vampires. His demeanour shifted from a reluctant host to a protective guardian. "I think your little field trip was successful, so you can leave." Klaus placed his hands on Olive's tense shoulders, subtly pressing down to ease her. "Now."

"We're not leaving you with our sister," Damon hissed, a fiery glint in his eyes, mirroring his absolute refusal. Both brother were unwavering in their determination not to leave Olive in the clutches of the man they deemed to be the orchestrator of her suffering

Stefan, battered but unbowed, rose to his feet and stumbled toward his sister with determination. He sought her gaze and pleaded, "Rora, you have to listen to me. He is compelling you. He is using you against us, so we give him back his coffins."

Growing exasperated, Olive rolled her eyes at their accusations of manipulation.. "I'm not being compelled. He has no reason to. So you can go fuck off." They had only learned of her resurrection for a few hours at most, and already they were trying to dictate her choices. She had done perfectly well without them for this long and would continue to do so.

"Besides, I prefer willing companions, unlike the two of you," Klaus muttered under his breath.

Olive's tone turned more assertive as she proclaimed, "I want you to leave," clenching her fists, the lines of her resolve drawn in the sand.

"We're not leaving you with the psycho who likes to stab his siblings when they misbehave." Damon gestured to Klaus, who responded with an eye roll. With an outraged expression, he challenged his sister, warning, "I don't care if I have to snap your neck and haul your ass out of here, but one way or another, you are coming back with us."

"No," she said, her resolve remaining unbroken

"Aurora, you're confused," Stefan pleaded.

"My name is Olive. Leave. Now. Before I get them to make you." She inclined her head toward the vampires and hybrids who had been silently observing from the second floor. The sounds of their argument echoed into their rooms, guiding the occupants out onto the sidelines, ready to intervene when needed.

Stefan growled at the sight of them, his determination unshaken. Veins began to protrude from his eyes, his fangs elongating, eager to incite bloodshed to save his sister. However, Damon recognised that the odds were against them and pulled his brother back, knowing the battle would be lost long before they made their first move.

"Stefan," he tried to quell his brother's anger, tugging on his arm and forcing Stefan to face him. "Stefan." Damon's firm voice finally broke through, grunting at the forced submission he was being subjected to. Without acknowledging anyone, Stefan stormed out of the house, his bruised ego keeping him company.

"This isn't over," Damon vowed, glaring at the hybrid. With one last poignant look at his sister, who stubbornly refused to meet his eyes, Damon left the mansion, following his brother out.

Stefan was... agitated, for lack of a better word, after leaving Klaus's. His eyes kept flashing back to what he had just been subjected to: his own sister in league with Klaus, the very monster that had wrought so much pain in their lives.

His emotions churned within him, an unrelenting storm of confusion, anger, and despair. He felt like tearing his skin off and ripping it into tatters that floated gruesomely through the air or meticulously plucking out each hair from his body one by one. Anything to alleviate the anguish that clung to him like bad perfume.

How could this happen? How could she do this? His sister... His sister was working with Klaus. No. She wouldn't do that to them. Klaus had to be compelling her. Klaus loved to compel people to do his bidding. He didn't know how to function without it. That must be it. It's the only explanation. He was manipulating her. He said so when he saw her, but she didn't believe him. But he knew better. Klaus was a bitter and pathetic man who used every cheap trick in the book to get what he wanted.

He knew what he had to do. He had to save his sister. Damon stopped him, though. He wanted to regroup. It was idiotic. While they were regrouping and 'coming up with a plan', their sister was being tormented by an Original. God knows what he was doing to her. What if he... No. No, he wouldn't let that happen.

He had to do something. He had to fix this. He could fix everything. Everything could go back to the way it was, and he would get his sister back. They would be a family again. All of them.

He just had to get rid of Klaus.

Stefan wasn't sure how long he had been walking for. It could have been hours. It could have been days. He barely remembered the fight he had with Damon before storming off. All he knew was he had somehow managed to find himself standing in front of the torture house, or Miss. Gibson's house to others. They were smart enough to hide the coffins here. No one would wander out this far, and most didn't know that the house had been abandoned. Signing the house in Bonnie's name had been his idea. He did it quickly and quietly so Klaus couldn't catch wind of his plan.

Yes, so far, he had been thinking clearly. Strategising a plan to systematically destroy Klaus.

So why was he looking over Elijah's desiccated form?

He wasn't thinking straight. He knew that. He knew he shouldn't be doing this.

So why did he just take the dagger out of Elijah?

He wanted to hurt Klaus. He wanted him to suffer like he was suffering. Bringing his sister back from the dead only to have her betray them, regardless of the compulsion. The first time he gets to see her in almost 200 years, and she is being forced to be his puppet. She wouldn't be the same after this. He wasn't. Being compelled to obey that bastard, it was torture. Aurora must be in hell as well. But it's ok. He would help her get better.

Undaggering Elijah was smart. He could take down Klaus. He could help them save their sister.

But this was a good plan.

Wasn't it?

This could backfire.

This would backfire.

But Stefan couldn't get his brain to stop. It was like a war was being fought inside his head. Reason vs. Instinct. All the voices clamouring for dominance, telling him to kill, to hurt, to seek vengeance, to be smart, and a faint, pleading voice telling him to let it go.

But how could he let it go?

Klaus took everything from him. Elena. His sister. His home. His autonomy. His sanity.

Stefan backed away slowly from the coffin, his mind at war with itself. He let out a primal scream and started to pull at his hair, as his body succumbed to the anguish coursing through him.

What did he do?

He had to put the dagger back.

But it was too late for him to put the daggers back, it would kill him.

He needed to find someone and get them to put it back in. He couldn't tell Bonnie; she would tell Damon. No one had to know.

He could still fix this. There was still time.

Olive sat in the master bedroom on the window ledge, her thoughts and emotions in disarray. The confrontation with her brothers weighed heavily on her, compressing her chest. The room's silence and the garden view outside the window offered a momentary refuge. She had found herself retreating here after taking a long, hot shower, a futile attempt to wash away the ongoing emotional turmoil.

As she sat, her bathrobe-clad form still damp from the shower, the tears she expected never came. Instead, she felt numb, as though the chaos within her had temporarily drained all emotion. The soft patter of water dripping out of her hair and onto the hardwood floors filled the room as she looked through the window passively. The world passing her by, indifferent to her pain, birds flitting about in blissful serenity.

The sound of the door opening signalled Klaus's return, his footsteps comforting her. She didn't turn to face him but shifted on the window seat to allow him space to join her. His presence served as a reassuring anchor that protected her amidst the tumultuous waves.

"Are you alright, love?" Klaus asked, his gentle voice like a balm to her wounded spirit. It's always difficult to see someone you love in pain, especially when there was nothing you could do to prevent it.

She turned to look at him, her hazel eyes reflecting the sadness she refused to acknowledge. Words faltered as she tried to express her feelings. "I didn't think - I didn't think it would feel like this," she confessed, her voice wavering. "I felt dirty and nauseous just being next to them."

Klaus held her close in his arms, her head resting on his chest, and kissed the top of her head. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could make this easier for you," he whispered, his embrace a protective shield.

Olive contemplated the implications of the Salvatores now knowing her true identity. "They have your family, Nik. What are they going to do now that they know about me?" She frowned, her gaze shifting to the floor as she idly played with Nik's fingers. "I shouldn't have let Stefan take me."

Klaus reassured her. "If you hadn't, we would have lost the hybrids." The Original intertwined their fingers together. "You've always had impeccable instincts, love, don't overthink this. We both knew they would find out eventually."

"I just thought we would have had more time," Olive said, squeezing his fingers.

"There would have never been enough time," he pointed out thoughtfully.

"I know." They sat together in silence, watching the world beyond the window. Olive's voice cracked as she broke the silence, apologising for involving Klaus in her troubles. Tears finally flowed as she said, "I'm sorry you have to deal with this. With me."

Klaus gently shushed her, his soothing touch travelling through her hair, his fingers gently combing through the knots. "You have nothing to be sorry for," he assured her. "I gave you my word that I would always be there for you, good or bad." A faint, teasing smile crossed his face as he continued, "Besides, no offence, but I'm not worried about the Salvatores. They weren't that bright." Olive laughed, albeit lightly, warming the room and making Klaus smile. "I doubt they could hide my family for much longer anyway."

Gasp

Elijah's body contorted unnaturally within the confines of the coffin, his arm reaching out involuntarily, and his legs kicking out, breaking the base of the coffin. The ancient vampire twisted and shook, the unsettling sensation of his bones scraping against each other as he clawed his way back to life.

He couldn't breathe.

The world before him was blurry and disoriented. He blinked rapidly, attempting to regain his senses. His vision slowly cleared, revealing the familiar surroundings of the room, and through hazy focus, he saw the other coffins in the adjacent room where his brothers and sister lay daggered in their coffins.

He found them. He had finally found them. The urgency to free them from their daggered slumber pulsed within him, yet his body refused to cooperate. With great effort, he tried to rise from his coffin gracefully, but he could only manage to tumble out, landing not too far from the coffin that had held him captive. His breathing was laboured, and his vision still swam, but he knew he couldn't stay. He wanted to go to his family and undagger them, to free them, but found that he barely had the energy to stand, his unsteady legs threatening to buckle beneath him.

This house. This devil of a house was preventing him from doing the one thing he had waited so long to do. But he had no choice. He would come back for them. Nothing would stop him from coming back for them.

Elijah fled out of the house, colliding into walls as he struggled to maintain absolute control over his body. It was only when he breathed in the crisp night air that he felt his bones and lungs slowly settling now that he was out. He turned his gaze back towards the house, unconsciously trying to go back inside, only to be thwarted by the lack of an invitation.

The Original descended the steps of the house, surveying the unfamiliar woods that surrounded him. It was an absurd notion, wasn't it? That he, an Original, could be kept in a box for however long and still underestimate his younger brother. When would he learn not to trust his pesky brother? It took a while for Elijah to find someone after leaving the house. It seemed his brother was more paranoid than usual, keeping them so far away from the rest of the world.

Thankfully, the young man he stumbled across was kind enough to tell him where 'the new British boy' was and had generously donated some blood to the hungry Original.

The Mikaelson Mansion was gradually being transformed into a true home. Olive had introduced her extensive plant collection to almost every room, bringing life and greenery to the newly renovated spaces. Klaus, on the other hand, had carefully selected his favourite art pieces to adorn their freshly painted walls. Their joint efforts were turning the once derelict mansion into a place that felt like their own.

In the grand living room, Klaus was immersed in the rather tedious task of selecting the perfect paint colour for the remaining rooms. Deliberately keeping his mind occupied so he wouldn't act impulsively in response to the Salvatores emotional assault on Olive. The assortment of paint swatches before him seemed endless, and his exasperated sighs filled the room as his unfocused eyes meandered across the myriad shades.

In the midst of his contemplation, Daniel entered the room, carrying the fabric samples Klaus had requested earlier. Thanking the hybrid, Klaus began perusing the swatches, looking for the right material to complement the house's evolving style.

However, he noticed that something was amiss. Daniel appeared agitated, squirming as blood trickled from his mouth. Before he could react, Daniel collapsed to the floor, dead, and Elijah took his place in front of Klaus, a bloodied heart in hand.

"So, Niklaus..." Elijah's voice dripped with indifference as he carelessly allowed the heart to tumble onto the floor, setting it on a morbid, rolling path toward his stunned brother.

"Elijah..." Klaus uttered in shock.

"What did I miss?" Elijah remarked, pulling a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wiping the blood off his fingers aggressively, staring down his younger brother. "You look surprised to see me. So, it wasn't you that removed the dagger from my chest?" he surmised.

Klaus acknowledged his brother's presence calmly, still somewhat taken aback by his sudden arrival. "You look like you could do with a drink. And we have a lot to discuss, so shall we?" He began making his way to a decanter on the other side of the room, but before he could reach it, Elijah tackled him, causing the brothers to hurl through the recently installed glass door.

"Easy. I just finished renovating this room," Klaus grumbled before rushing at his brother, sending them into the antique wooden table that crumbled under the force. He quickly rose to his feet and stood over his groaning brother. "You know you have every right to be mad at me. But I kept my word, I reunited you with our family," he reasoned, knowing this would do little to ease Elijah's temperament.

Elijah didn't respond, choosing to express his displeasure by punching him repeatedly in the face, causing the latter to fall backward onto the floor, knocking over the table and its contents.

As the two Originals fought on the floor, Olive returned from the garden, seeking solace in her beloved plants. The encounter with her brothers had stirred emotions within her that she was not ready to confront, making the garden the ideal escape for her wandering mind. When she entered the house, the vase she had intended for her freshly cut daisies had been shattered, slowly being crushed to dust underneath Nik's back as he and an unknown man engaged in a fierce brawl.

Undeterred by the escalating chaos, Olive retrieved another vase from the kitchen cabinet, rinsing it to remove any dust that may have accumulated. The string of insults, shattering glass, and destruction of their furniture filtered through the open kitchen door. She filled the vase halfway with water and arranged the daisies inside before placing the vase on the kitchen island, bringing a touch of serenity amidst the mayhem. She turned her attention to the refrigerator, withdrawing a jug of freshly squeezed orange juice she had prepared earlier. She poured herself a glass of fresh juice and headed back into the living room, observing the escalating conflict between Klaus and the intruder, jug and juice in hand.

Their fight had migrated from the centre of the room to the doorway where the unfortunate Daniel lay lifeless. Elijah forcefully pushed his brother off him, flinging him across the table with brutal efficiency, sweeping the contents off and stumbling onto the floor. Olive came in just in time to see Klaus get pushed up against the wall and have his head slammed repeatedly by the mysterious man.

Before Elijah could toss his brother again, Olive had calmly strolled over to the feuding siblings and nonchalantly poured the entire jug of juice over their heads, drenching them in the sticky, sweet liquid. Their rage quickly shifted to disbelief.

Once the juice shower had effectively separated them, they turned their attention to Olive, who stood with an air of indifference. Elijah scrutinised the woman before him, who in turn observed him with disinterest.

"Thanks to your fighting, you have ruined my coffee table and made me waste this juice," Olive remarked, her tone a peculiar mix of annoyance and amusement. She placed the empty jug on the shelf before turning her attention back to Nik. There was an undeniable, no-nonsense attitude in her demeanour as she addressed the situation. "Is this Elijah?"

Wiping the juice from his face, Klaus nodded in confirmation.

Across from him, a dishevelled Elijah questioned, "Niklaus, who is this woman?" His cool demeanour emerged as he sought clarity among the chaos and sugar.

Klaus, with a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes, introduced Olive to his estranged brother. A warm smile graced his lips as he replied, "Elijah, meet Olive, my partner." The genuine affection between the pair filled the room with a loving warmth, replacing the bitter air of conflict.

"You are Olive? The Saviour? I find it unlikely that you would willingly associate with someone like my brother," Elijah remarked, gazing up at her with an air of scepticism. He shrugged off his ruined suit jacket, attempting to regain some semblance of composure in the face of this unusual reunion.

"I've already had to defend my identity once today. I really don't feel like doing it again," Olive groaned in exasperation as she rolled her eyes. She retreated back to the kitchen, leaving the two Original brothers to speak privately, not interested in debating her identity anymore.

The room was enveloped in a momentary silence, a palpable tension lingering in the air as the brothers reacquainted themselves. In a cautious tone, Klaus met his brother's gaze and, with careful deliberation, uttered, "Mikael is dead."

Elijah's response was a hushed whisper, disbelief and shock etched across his features. "What did you say?" His grip faltered, and his jacket slipped from his fingers as the weight of Klaus's words sank in.

"I killed him. With his own weapon. He's gone, Elijah. Forever," the hybrid affirmed, confirming the seemingly impossible demise of their once invincible father.

A fleeting smile graced Elijah's lips upon hearing the unexpected demise of Mikael, but it quickly faded as he thought back to that cabin he was recently housed in. His frustration and curiosity began to surface as he inquired, "Then why do our family remain in those coffins?"

"Because of Stefan Salvatore," Klaus declared, extending a conciliatory gesture, offering his brother a glass of orange juice, which he accepted with a contemplative frown. "He took you away from me and has been holding you all hostage."

"So, it was him that woke me? Why?" Elijah probed, wanting to understand the reasons for his abrupt awakening.

"I would assume that he believes I unearthed his sister, so he woke you in retaliation," Klaus theorised.

"His sister?" Elijah's eyebrows furrowed at the mention of this unknown sister, displaying an insatiable curiosity. Before coming to Mystic Falls for the doppelgänger, the Original had extensively researched this town and those in close relation to Elena. His investigation into the Salvatores showed no evidence of any sister.

"That would be me," Olive announced as she returned to the room, carrying two towels and handing them to both brothers. Her inquisitive eyes settled on Elijah as she delved into the details of his emergence, her gaze piercing in its intensity. "Where were you when you woke up?" she asked.

"In an abandoned house near the woods," Elijah replied, using the towel to diligently rid his hair of the sticky orange juice, aware that this was somewhat futile. He would be forced to contend with his dishevelled appearance sooner rather than later.

"Were the other coffins there?" Klaus asked.

"I believe so, but I couldn't go back and check because I had not been invited in," he explained, hinting at the restrictions that bound their family inside.

"I'll call Ruth to go get the others," Olive assured, kissing Klaus goodbye and turning to face the dripping Original. "By the way, attack him again and I'll rip your dick off and shove it up your ass and pull it out through your mouth. Got it? Good."

As Elijah watched the supposed Olive leave the room, he began to question her legitimacy. From what he had heard, she was a force to be reckoned with; she could intimidate any man simply by walking into a room. Her presence and attitude, though formidable, did not align with his preconceptions. The audacity of her words hardly fazed him, and her unique attire further contributed to his reservations. One would find themselves hard-pressed to find someone shaking in their boots at the sight of a woman wearing a knotted butterfly shirt and a long grey skirt.

"She is not what I was expecting from the so-called Saviour. Are you sure that you have not been played for a fool?" he mused, his voice tinged with doubt. He downed the last of the orange juice, his gaze lingering on the room's entrance where Olive had departed.

Klaus, fully appreciating the gravity of the conversation they must have, turned to his brother, abandoning the playful banter. With an air of solemnity, he regarded his brother with a deep, intense expression, imploring him to recall their eternal bond.

"Elijah, there are things you do not know about our past. Our mother's death. Things I never wanted you to know. But I'm ready to tell you now. I only ask that you remember the oath of loyalty you once swore to me. Always and forever. I need you to stand by my side. Be my brother. Help me destroy Stefan, and I promise you our family will be whole again," he implored, laying his deepest intentions bare.

Alaric's arrival back home was filled with melancholy. Dropping Jeremy off at the airport may have been one of the hardest things that Alaric had ever done. He knew that it was the right decision, and he knew that Jeremy wasn't his son, but by God, he was close. When he met Jenna, he had no idea that he would form such a bond with her niece and nephew, or that they would welcome him so graciously, like he was always a part of it. The mini-family life they had for a while was one of the happiest times in his life.

And because the universe was a cruel mistress, those moments became fewer and farther between until the day it finally died. The day Jenna died.

It took everything in him to take a chance with Jenna, to really try and love again after Isobel. And she died. Just like Isobel. Sometimes he felt like a virus, slowly infecting the people in his life with tragedy. He tried so hard to carve out a normal and well-balanced life for Elena and Jeremy, it was the bare minimum that he could do in his mind, and he had already messed it up. Not even 5 months into watching over them did he send Jeremy away with some relatives that didn't even come to Jenna's funeral (sure they were watching over their son who had just broken his leg and couldn't travel for long periods of time but still).

If Klaus wasn't here, if he had just died like he was supposed to, perhaps none of this would be happening. Jeremy would be having a hard time but knew that he was being supported and would have eventually bounced back. Instead, Alaric was driving through the dark streets of Mystic Falls, craving his bourbon, his lazy boy and a long night watching the cars go by as he tried to figure out what else he could have done.

Upon arriving at his apartment, Alaric reached for his keys, prepared to unlock the door and sink into contemplative solitude. However, he noticed that his door wasn't shut properly, and a loud crash echoed from inside. Alaric quickly and quietly put away his keys, reaching around his back to get the stake he always kept hidden. Slowly pushing the door handle, he opened the door and peered inside.

Of course.

Alaric immediately rolled his eyes and stomped into his apartment, standing over the lush vampire who had broken in and was now lying on his floor with his best bourbon around him. His cabinets had all been ransacked, left bare and open, and his table had been shoved away from the couch, so it now faced the wall.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice a mixture of frustration and exasperation.

Damon frowned in confusion before he realised that he wasn't in his own house. He must have run out of bourbon and come here in a drunken haze. Rather than responding, Damon attempted to grab the nearest full bottle next to him and started to uncap it.

"Whoa, whoa," Alaric exclaimed, reacting swiftly and snatching the bottle from the vampire's fingers. "Hey, what the hell, man? That was a 70-year-old bottle of scotch, the most expensive drink I've ever bought. No way am I letting you chug it down like some animal. What happened?"

Damon groaned into the floor as he tried to lift his body off the floor. "Stefan lost the coffins," he said, his voice muffled by the floor.

Alaric's exasperation deepened. "What? How?" he asked, placing his scotch on the kitchen counter.

"He woke Elijah who then told Klaus where he and his siblings were kept," Damon explained, successfully rising from the floor.

Fucking Stefan.

What had possessed his brother to think that daggering Elijah – leaving him alone with the rest of the siblings he had spent years searching for – was a good idea? Babies who had eaten candles were smarter than his brother."

What did he think was gonna happen?

Elijah sitting there patiently waiting for them?

It was ridiculous.

What was ridiculous was him leaving his brother alone after they had found out Aurora was alive. He should have known that Stefan would have done something reckless. It was his M.O. case in point, turning him into a vampire against his will.

He never would have thought in a million years when he found Stefan punching the walls of the house and destroying the furniture, throwing it out into the barren woods, that his brother had lost their leverage. He had this look in his eyes that Damon had never seen before, more desperate than usual. If he thought that the Stefan from the founder's party was reckless, this Stefan was insane.

Damon did the only appropriate thing he could when he found out what his brother had done. He promptly stabbed him in the shoulder with a loose floorboard and yelled at Stefan to get his act together or they would lose everything. They were just lucky that Bonnie insisted that the locked coffin be kept separate from the others so she could concentrate on opening it. Of course, this is only going to make Bonnie's job harder now that they have less time, and he was the unfortunate soul that told her.

Thank God she couldn't get an aneurysm through the phone.

"Why would Stefan do that?" Alaric wondered.

The vampire's response was laden with frustration as he made his way towards the kitchen, trying not to fall again. "Because he's insane! He is having a psychotic break and is going to take us all down with him," Damon grumbled, navigating his way through the room.

"Yeah, Elena told me what he did. Or tried to do," Alaric mumbled. He was up with Elena most of the night as she explained what had happened, trying not to break down crying. She cried too much these days.

"He's a fucking idiot. We had the advantage. We could have gotten rid of Klaus and saved her. She wouldn't have to spend another second with that asshole," Damon griped, his hands clenching around the marble countertop, causing spiderweb cracks to form beneath his grip.

"Elena?" Alaric questioned, getting lost in Damon's train of thought. He didn't think Klaus and Elena had spent much time together.

But now we have only one coffin and are gonna be up against the rest of the Original family." Damon paces the kitchen as he continues his rant, slowly getting more sober as his blood pressure increases at the thought of his baby sister getting caught in the middle of all this. "And she's gonna get caught up in everything because she's on Klaus's side and die-"

"Are you talking about Olive? Don't we want her to die?" the teacher interrupted, frowning at the vampire.

Damon's immediate reaction was to deny any ill-will towards Aurora, quickly responding without thinking, "Why would I want her to die?" He closed his eyes in regret and groaned, realising what he just said.

Now thoroughly confused by the sudden change in Damon's stance, Alaric stared at the drunk vampire. "Last week you couldn't stop talking about ripping her heart out," Alaric reminded, scrutinising the vampire in front of him, with a puzzled expression.

"I was exaggerating." Damon waved his hand dismissively at his friend, grabbing the half-empty bottle on the couch.

"What else happened today?" Alaric questioned. He paused and watched the vampire drink the rest of his bourbon with wide eyes, pointing an accusing finger at him. "Did you sleep with her?! You slept with Klaus' girlfriend, didn't you!" He began to panic, thinking about what Klaus would do if he found out. How could Damon be so stupid as to sleep with Klaus's girl? He was going to have to take Elena and run. "What is wrong with you?! He is gonna kill-"

"Calm down, would you! I didn't sleep with her," he stated forcefully, allowing Alaric to sag in relief. "That's just disgusting," the vampire muttered with a grimace, shivering and sticking out his tongue.

"Then what the hell is going on? Why do you care if she dies?" Alaric asks exasperated, his anxiety only subsiding somewhat knowing Damon kept it in his pants.

Damon took a deep breath and confessed slowly, "Her real name is Aurora Salvatore."

The teacher frowned in confusion before his eyes widened in realisation, uttering, "Your sister? She's your sister? Your sister is the one that took Rebekah? Your sister is sleeping with Klaus? Your sister-"

"Would you stop saying 'your sister'?" Damon complained, frustrated with the whole situation. He did not need Alaric recapping what he already knew. "I know she is my sister. I think people in China heard you say she's my sister," he stated dramatically, gesturing to the door.

His sister was with the monster that killed Jenna.

"How the hell did this happen? You told me she died," he reminded. After one too many drinks one night during the summer, Damon had confided in him about a previously undisclosed sister that had passed. That he and Stefan never talked about her with each other because it was just too hard for them but always felt something missing when he and Stefan were together. The third Salvatore to complete the set. He made Alaric promise to never mention her to anyone ever and to completely forget their conversation under the threat of temporary death.

"She did die. I was right about that," Damon argued. "She just turned into a vampire afterward."

"I can't believe this. Your sister is the fucking vampire God, and she isn't even on our side! We're fucked," he exclaimed, slamming a cabinet door shut.

Damon, ever the wisecracker, responded with a smirk, "I wouldn't call her a God. She's just popular, like Beyoncé."

"That's pretty close to God level, Damon!" the hunter quipped, breathing heavily as he rested his hands on his hips.

"Ok, I'm not getting into another Beyoncé fight with you again," the vampire proclaimed, shaking his head and pointing his finger at him. "I'm not drunk enough for that."

"How did Stefan take the news?"

Damon sighed and looked thoughtfully at the wall. "My brother is...a little unhinged at the moment," he admitted, which was certainly putting it mildly. "Hence the undaggering. He thinks she's being compelled to stay with him."

Alaric shook his head and poured himself a glass of bourbon from the bottle. He couldn't help but ask, "What do you think?"

"My sister would never side with Klaus," he emphasised, looking imploringly at Alaric. "If he's not compelling her, then he's got something on her."

The hunter couldn't help but marvel at the sheer madness of the situation. "This is just wild," he commented, taking a sip of his drink.

"You can't tell anyone about this," Damon instructed.

"Damon-"

"I'm serious," Damon interrupted. "Elena can't know that my sister almost got her brother killed, compelled or not." How could he face Elena if she knew that his sister almost got her brother killed? Besides, this was a family matter; they could deal with this on their own.

"She's gonna find out sooner or later," Alaric pointed out.

Damon remained firm in his decision. "Well, I'm making it later."

"I've been having these dreams for days now. It's like the witches are trying to send me a message."

Bonnie had called Elena early that morning, asking to meet her in the Lockwood caves. To say Elena was surprised was an understatement; she had no idea that her friend had been helping Stefan hide the coffins or that she had been trying to open them.

The two girls stood over the coffin, their surroundings dimly lit by the numerous candles, placed on the floor. The flickering flames cast eerie shadows on the cave walls, although this was a bit of a fire hazard.

"I just can't believe you guys kept this from me the whole time," Elena remarked, glancing around the cave walls.

Bonnie, her face adorned with an apologetic smile, quickly elucidated the necessity of the secrecy. "Stefan thought if you knew where the coffins were, Klaus could threaten people to get information out of you," Bonnie explained.

"He's not coming, right?" Elena looked toward the cave opening thoughtfully. She hadn't seen Stefan since their last encounter, which was traumatic, to say the least. What would you even say to the man you once loved that tried to murder you on the very bridge he saved you from, only to be stopped by a mysteriously civil and violent vampire?

"I don't think so." She smiled gently at her friend, hoping to ease her anxiety. "He hasn't been here the last few days. Damon and Stefan have been busy arguing about someone named Aurora."

"Who's that?" Elena asked, her curiosity piqued.

"I don't know, but they have been at each other's throats over her," Bonnie said annoyedly. They were so busy fighting over this woman she was worried that they had lost sight of what they were doing. She couldn't take out an Original hybrid without some backup.

Elena cleared her throat, ignoring the odd feeling that was starting to settle in her stomach. "So, where are the rest of the coffins?"

"That's the problem. Stefan kind of lost them…" Bonnie trailed off.

Elena's eyes widened in disbelief. "What?"

"Stefan had woken Elijah for some reason, and that had led Klaus to the others," Bonnie explained, shrugging her shoulders.

"And he was worried I would tell Klaus," Elena muttered, rolling her eyes. "So now you only have one. Why would he do that?" She crosses her arms and looks at the young witch.

With a deep sigh, Bonnie shook her head. "I don't know," she admitted. "Which is why I needed your help. We don't know who is in it, or what's in it, only that I think my dream is telling me it will help us kill Klaus. I think I know who can open the coffin, and I need your help to help me find her."

"Who?"

"I couldn't place her face at first. Then I realised." Bonnie retrieved a folded photo from her pocket and handed it to Elena, who examined it with keen interest.

"Oh my god, Bonnie," Elena breathed, gently taking the photo from her hand.

"I think the witches want me to find my mum," Bonnie revealed.

In the Gilbert residence, the two teenagers sat at the dining room table, surrounded by an array of files spread out before them. They had called the Sheriff after leaving the caves and found that she was more than happy to help Bonnie find her mum.

"Los Alamitos?" Elena read out loud, passing the paper over to Bonnie for her inspection.

"Too old."

"Honolulu?" Elena tried again, offering another sheet with a hopeful smile.

"I wish. How many of these are there?" Bonnie inquired, somewhat overwhelmed by the sheer volume of documents.

"A lot. I asked the Sheriff's office to pull up every single Abby Bennett in the country," Elena said, quickly removing the papers into the reject pile when they didn't look like Bonnie's mother.

"I know we haven't been able to really...that things have been weird, because of Jeremy, so, thank you for helping me with hits. I know you have a lot to deal with." Bonnie said cautiously, aware that she had not been there for her friends like she should have been. She felt so guilty the day after Caroline's birthday when she found out that Stefan had taken her to the bridge.

"There's nothing more important, Bonnie," Elena said seriously, holding her friend's hand in hers.

"It's surreal. Having to track down a woman, who bailed on her own kid." Bonnie reflected with a mixture of emotions.

"You know, you don't have to, right? Let Stefan obsess over opening the coffin. It doesn't have to fall on you," Elena reasoned, troubled that her friend was basically being forced to see the woman that had caused her so much pain.

"The coffin is spelled shut. That makes it a witch problem. So, it does fall on me. Besides, I was bound to see my mother again sooner or later," Bonnie explained. She knew that if she did refuse then Stefan would find some poor witch and force her to help. At least this way she was protecting another witch from being used. She was a tool, she knew that, and she had accepted that a long time ago.

Elena frowned thoughtfully before looking back to the front door when she heard the door open. When she saw that Damon walked through the door, she quickly turned around, not in the right mindset to see the older Salvatore.

"Sooner." Damon opened the manila folder in his hand and read out, "Abby Bennett Wilson, Monroe, North Carolina. Born in Mystic Falls hospital, graduated from Mystic falls high...blah blah blah." The vampire handed the witch and explained, "A little compulsion helps speed up the research process."

Bonnie accepts the folder from the vampire and looks over the information carefully. This was her mother. This was the woman that abandoned her. She never thought it would be this easy to find her. Bonnie wondered if her father ever tried to find her. Would her life be different if he had? Would she still constantly find herself trapped and forced to help others at her own expense?

"Did you figure out who Olive is?" Elena looked cautiously at the vampire; it had been a while since she had seen him. Even though she wasn't prepared to see him, her curiosity took precedence over her discomfort.

"Did I not tell you? Could have sworn I did." Damon looks around the room avoiding her invasive eyes.

"Damon. Who is she? Is she your ex or something?" Elena asked, annoyed, trying to keep the jealousy out of her voice. Not that she had a right to be jealous. Nor should she feel guilty if she was jealous because she certainly didn't owe Stefan anything. But she wasn't jealous. Probably.

"Ew, what?" Damon shutters. "Ew, no. You know, I can't help but be insulted that everyone's first guess is that I slept with her." He was more than just sex. He had layers. Sometimes.

Elena, now standing beside Damon with her arms crossed, persisted in her inquiry. "So, who is she?"

"Stefan and I know, and we are taking care of it," Damon explained, his response maintaining an air of secrecy as he nodded condescendingly at doppelgänger.

"Why are you being so weird about this?" Elena wondered, switching weight from her feet.

"I'm not being weird, you're being weird. You're like a dog with a bone," Damon complained, staring at Elena. Neither party said anything as they both stared at each other.

Slightly baffled by the situation, Bonnie looked up from the file and inquired "What's going on with you two?"

Damon shifted his attention to Bonnie, responding matter-of-factly, "We kissed. Now it's weird. Have a great trip." With that, Damon left the room, his sarcastic smile lingering as he departed.

Bonnie stares at Elena surprised, who stares back in return lost for words as she struggles to explain what happened.

Caroline flung her front door open, ready to crawl back into her cosy bed and bingeing far too many episodes of FRIENDS. But her expectations were dashed as she laid eyes on her ex-boyfriend, comfortably seated on her living room couch.

"What are you doing here?" she questioned, her voice a blend of surprise and irritation, her brows furrowing.

"I need your help," Tyler declared, rising from the couch to greet her.

Caroline's frustration bubbled forth. "Tyler, as long as you're sired to Klaus, I can't trust you. You nearly got Jeremy killed. For all I know this is a trick and Klaus sent you here to bite me," she lamented, pressing a hand to her forehead in exasperation. "And I know I called you the other night, but I was drunk and vulnerable, and I wanted to see you, but I just can't. I can't help you." She shook her head, her gaze filled with regret as she looked at the hybrid.

"That's the problem, Caroline. I want to be able to tell you that I would never bite you if Klaus told me to, but I know that's not true. And that scares me," he confessed, his voice laced with frustration and helplessness. "I don't want to put you in any danger, to put you first but it's like I have no control at all. That's why I asked your mum to call him."

Bill, Caroline's father, entered the room from the kitchen doorway, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. Caroline's surprise at his sudden appearance was tinged with vulnerability as she uttered a surprised "Daddy?"

"Hi, Caroline," he greeted, offering a warm smile to his little girl.

"I thought, since he can resist compulsion, maybe he could teach me to resist the sire bond," Tyler theorised, desperate for things to go back to the way they were. He lost his free will, but he couldn't lose Caroline. Not for Klaus. Not for anyone.

Caught off guard by Tyler's plea, Caroline turned to her father for guidance. "Can you help him?"

"I'm going to try." Bill affirmed, nodding at his daughter, determination etched on his face.

"Why?" Caroline inquired with a mix of curiosity and hesitation.

Bill responded with a trace of regret in his voice. "Because he doesn't want to cause you any more pain. And I understand that." He recognised the errors he had made in handling the news of his daughter's transformation into a vampire and was determined to make amends.

A few days had passed since Elijah had been undaggered, and whilst his family was all under one roof for the first time in years, only he was awake. When Klaus had recovered the coffins containing their siblings, Elijah had immediately sought to undagger them, desperate to see his family again. But Klaus had vehemently stopped him, consumed by his fear by the Salvatore's possession of the locked coffin. In his paranoia, Klaus had the room spelled shut, with his hybrid playthings in front of the door at all times.

Elijah could have easily enlisted the aid of a witch to remove the spell, but he soon discovered that in his slumber, the witches who once supported him had gone into hiding, unwilling to the Original against his brother.

It also didn't help that Olive and her followers were almost always wandering around the now finished Mansion. The ever-present hustle and bustle, the secret meetings behind closed doors had started to make Elijah feel like a caged animal. So, he decided a walk would be the best cure to his claustrophobia and would do well in preventing him from ripping off the heads of everyone inside.

So Elijah paced quietly through the forest, seeking solace among the trees, their ancient branches providing a sense of comfort and tranquillity. He remembered as a child he would try and climb up the trees as high as he could. As he got older, he stayed on the ground and watched his siblings do the same, watching out for them as they rose to new heights. The memories offered him a fleeting connection to his family, bringing solace as he wandered deeper into the woods.

Unfortunately, Elijah's peaceful solitude was abruptly disrupted when Damon Salvatore appeared, strolling casually in his direction.

"Elijah. My favourite Original, back from the dead. You clean up nice," Damon remarked, alluding to Elijah's well-groomed appearance. Gone were the remnants of dried orange juice that tangled his locks, replaced by a fresh and neatly trimmed look that reflected the meticulous care taken in his grooming.

"Damon," Elijah acknowledged with a polite nod. "I suppose I have you to thank for my return?"

A wry grin played upon Damon's lips. "As much as I would love to say yes, it was Stefan that woke you up."

"And where is the young Salvatore? From what I understand he took my family," Elijah inquired, adjusting his cuffs as he observed the vampire before him.

"He's having a personal day. You know, pedicure, facials. Does wonders for the body," Damon quipped.

"Is there something you need, Damon?" Elijah asked, his hands resting in his pockets.

"I couldn't help but notice that there aren't any other Originals walking around town," Damon mentioned nonchalantly, taking a step closer to Elijah and keeping a watchful eye for any of Klaus's lackeys. "I'm sure that wasn't your choice."

Elijah's piercing gaze bore into Damon. "Your point?"

The young vampire moved closer to Elijah, maintaining his vigilance. "How would you like to get back at Klaus for daggering you?" Damon proposed.

Elijah considered Damon's words. He recognised that the cunning vampire had a proposition in mind. "And what exactly do you propose?"

"I'll start with an easy question. Any idea what kind of Klaus killing weapon could be magically sealed in a mystery coffin?" Damon asked, his eyes gleamed with intrigue.

Elijah's curiosity was piqued. He realised that this could be a chance to obtain the leverage he needed to protect his family. He contemplated Damon's proposal for a moment before making his own counteroffer. "How about an exchange? We negotiate the terms of Elena's freedoms back at the house. And you tell me everything about your sister," Elijah countered.

In the heart of a sunlit, homely kitchen, Bonnie's tea sat untouched, its warmth fading as she faced her mother, Abby Bennett. It was a surreal experience for the young witch, a moment she had dreamed of since she was a child. She dreamt that her mother was a hero who had been taken away to protect her, battling sinister forces, and had escaped the clutches of some villain and fought her way back to her. And when she returned, she would take her to the park where they would play and make up for lost time. As time passed, that childhood fantasy started to decay, disintegrated into a million pieces with the rest of her unfallen tears. Eventually she imagined that her mother simply died. She had gotten lost driving home and was never found, lost forever.

But here she was. Here was her mother that didn't die or get lost or find her way back home. No, this Abby Bennett was a mother to someone else. Someone that wasn't her child. She had only been a car ride away this whole time, playing house, with someone else's child. Smiling like everything was normal.

Nothing about this was normal

It was at that moment that Bonnie was glad that she asked Elena to come with her. She knew if she had asked Caroline, she would have tried to diffuse the tension, smooth the rough edges. Break the tension. But that was the last thing she needed right now. She had to focus. She didn't have time to bond and mend fences with her estranged mother. This wasn't going to be the reunion she had fantasised about all her life. This was business.

"You've grown into such a beautiful young woman, Bonnie," Abby's words pierced through the thick atmosphere, an attempt to dispel the tension that hung like a shroud.

"Please, just stop with the muffins and compliments. I just want to know the truth...why didn't you come home?" Bonnie asked. That question that had haunted Bonnie's every waking moment for the past fifteen years was finally unleashed.

Abby hesitated, her eyes heavy with remorse. "I had no magic. I was in a new city, and I realised I had a chance to be somebody else. To be Abby Wilson, the woman…. not Abby Bennett, the witch." No, but she made her daughter Bonnie Bennett, the witch. Without ever telling her the truth. Never thinking about the consequences of her actions. "I'm not proud of what I did, Bonnie. I ran. I know I ran. But you had your dad and your grams, and let's face it, your Grams are way better at this stuff then I am," Abby declared.

"You don't know?" Bonnie looked puzzled at the former witch.

"What?" At Bonnie's depressed look she placed her hand over her mouth, an awful knowingness coming over her. Gathering her resolve, she inhaled deeply and asked, "How?"

Bonnie's face darkened as she recounted, "We were doing a rough spell, and we both exhausted ourselves. Her more than me." The young witch started to tear up at the memory. It was still too hard to talk about her Grams.

A sombre, heavy silence settled between mother and daughter. "Well, she raised you right," Abby said, her voice laden with emotion, her eyes brimming with tears. "I'm sure, she would've been proud of you," She paused, took a sip of her tea, and continued, "Well, now you know my whole story."

"Yep," Bonnie nodded, her fingers absently toying with her tea mug.

"How about you tell me yours? What brings you to me?" Abby inquired, her tone soft but probing.

The young witch hesitated, bringing the tea to her lips once more, contemplating how much she should reveal. "It was a dream, actually. I thought you were supposed to help us," she confessed, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. "But if you don't have any magic, it's…" Her voice trailed off, her words hanging in the air, suspended in uncertainty.

"Not spells, no. But...I'm not completely useless," Abby explained with a glimmer of hope. "I mean, the earth still provides herbs and such. There might be something I can do."

"I don't think so," Bonnie murmured into her tea, sipping the hot liquid tentatively.

"Bonnie. Please. Let me help you," Abby begged, her desperation evident in her voice.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Bonnie admitted. Even though she didn't like Abby right now, she wasn't willing to drag her into the tangled mess that was her life in Mystic Falls.

"Please, Bonnie. I-I want to do this for you," Abby's desperation deepened, and she reached across the table to grasp her daughter's hand tightly.

Bonnie studied her mother's face, perceiving the desperation in her eyes. With caution, she asked, "Did Klaus get to you?"

Abby opened her mouth to respond but was abruptly interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Mother and daughter turned their heads, their attention shifting to the impending presence that had disrupted their tense conversation.

"Well, clearly you're not as persuasive as you thought," remarked the mysterious stranger, his voice calm as he strolled into the kitchen. He took a seat across from the young Bennett witch, his presence unsettling the equilibrium.

Bonnie tensed at the intrusion, swiftly retracting her hand from Abby's grasp. The older witch looked at her daughter shamefully. Bonnie prepared to cast a spell to remove the intruder, rising from her chair, only to be struck by an unexpected wave of dizziness. She stumbled, the room spinning, and was forced to sit back down. "What's going on? What did you do to me?" she uttered, her words fraught with confusion and fear.

"You'll be fine. But don't try any spells. The tea I used muted your magic," Abby explained, her voice a mixture of concern and urgency. She brushed a strand of hair away from her daughter's face, her touch strangely gentle.

"What about Elena?" Bonnie asked, her gaze shifting towards the window where she knew the doppelgänger was waiting with Jamie.

"She'll be fine, if you do what your mother says," the hybrid said, settling into the chair next to Bonnie.

"I need your help. I need you to tell me where the locked coffin is," Abby implored.

Bonnie's suspicion remained, her eyes narrowing as she questioned, "Why do you care?"

"Because if you don't, that man compelled Jamie to kill himself," Abby revealed, her voice breaking at the thought of the young boy's life hanging in the balance.

"I can't. This goes beyond you and me." Bonnie insisted, shaking her head. Her eyes briefly closed, the effects of the tea still causing her head to spin.

"If you tell us where the coffin is we will spare you and your friends, but this is a onetime offer," the hybrid proposed.

"Why should I believe you?" Bonnie's glare remained unwavering.

"I have been authorised to make a deal with you on behalf of Olive. Anything you ask for, she will give you. Within reason," the hybrid offered

"What I want is for you and your freaks to get out of my life," Bonnie retorted, her frustration mounting. She couldn't get a single meeting with her mother without some supernatural entity intruding.

"Bonnie, please. I can't lose, Jamie." But you could lose me, Bonnie thought, a noose tightening around her already bleeding heart.

"Listen to her Bonnie just tell me where it is and no harm will come to him or your friends," the hybrid reassured, his tone carrying a semblance of sincerity.

Bonnie gazed thoughtfully at the hybrid. She could tell him where they were keeping the coffin, she wouldn't have to deal with any of this anymore. Everyone would be safe. Lose the battle but win the war, that's what people say right? But how could she give Klaus that coffin after everything he did. That wasn't justice. He didn't get to win. Not after Jenna.

In the midst of her contemplation, Bonnie's gaze fell upon the knife Abby had carelessly left beside her muffin. Without hesitation, without giving herself a chance to overthink it, Bonnie seized the knife and thrust it into the hybrid's eye. The sudden, savage act made him scream in agonising torment, his blood pooling around him as he collapsed to the floor, groaning and clutching his injured eye.

"Oh my god," Abby's voice trembled with shock, her eyes wide with terror, unable to comprehend the abrupt violence that had unfolded.

Bonnie, however, wasted no time. "Come on, we have to leave," she declared urgently, seizing her mother's arms and propelling her towards the door, not daring to look back.

Inside the kitchen, the injured hybrid slowly rose to his knees, his grimace mirroring the pain that coursed through his being. With an effort, he yanked the knife from his eye, blood spurting onto the tiled floor. Stumbling to his feet, he made his way to the open door and witnessed Bonnie dragging the doppelgänger into a waiting car, while Abby did the same with the hapless human.

With blood still trickling from his wounded eye, the hybrid retrieved his phone and made a call, his voice laced with pain as he spoke. "I need to talk to Olive."

In a dimly lit private hospital room at Mystic Falls Hospital, Bill lay prone in his bed, his once-vibrant appearance now a stark contrast to his deteriorating condition. The room bore the sterile scent of heavy disinfectants lingering in the air, as if to ward off the encroachment of illness. The continuous beep of the heart monitor served as an unwavering reminder of the fragility of life, filling the room with its ceaseless rhythm.

Beyond the open window, the night sky spread wide and serene, a tapestry of stars adorning the inky darkness. It framed the distant, twinkling lights of the town below, offering a contrast to the harsh fluorescent lighting within. The occasional whisper of a night breeze played through the room, carrying with it the distant sounds of doctors and nurses, their footsteps echoing down the hospital corridor as they hurried about their vital duties.

Listening to the mindless suns of overworked doctors and nurses echoing in the hallway just beyond the door, Bill contemplated his admittedly problematic plan for Tyler. It certainly had its flaws, namely not arming himself with a weapon when locking himself in a room with a dangerous supernatural creature as they turned into an equally dangerous wild animal. Though he chose to view this as a memorable learning experience.

"You're better," Tyler commented, his voice a mix of genuine surprise and uncertainty, as he entered the room. He had half-expected to find Bill unconscious, perhaps on the verge of passing out on the bed, not engaged in casual grumbling about the hospital's television channels.

Bill grumbled under his breath as he reached over and powered off the TV. "Yea. I shouldn't be but I didn't have any say in the matter."

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I lost control. Again," the hybrid confessed, the remorse in his voice tinged with a measure of genuine regret.

Bill's eyes, a reflection of concern and deep curiosity, regarded Tyler thoughtfully. "I knew the risks when I decided to help you. So…. was it worth it? How do you feel?"

"Different. A little more myself," the hybrid replied, the gentle hum of the heart monitor underscoring his words as he moved closer to the hospital bed.

"Then we'll continue tomorrow," he nodded, already mulling over which firearm to bring with him.

However, a trace of fear, as palpable as the hospital's antiseptic scent, etched itself on Tyler's face. "What are you talking about? I turned," he said, confusion etched into his features.

"Once," Bill emphasised, his gaze unwavering. "To break the sire bond. Turning needs to be painless….and from what I saw today…. we're still a long way off."

Doubt and reluctance found their way into Tyler's voice as he shook his head, stepping away from the hospital bed. "I can't put myself through that again," he declared.

"You will. Because until you're capable of acting on your own free will, I'm not going to let you anywhere near my daughter," Bill forewarned.

Tyler looked thoughtfully at Bill. He would never want to hurt Caroline. He loved her more than anything else in the world. But turning, breaking his bones possibly hundreds of times in a row? Did he have the strength, the willpower to do that? And wouldn't being around Klaus make it difficult for him to break the bond? These questions left him contemplating whether he would ultimately have to leave, much like the doctors bustling outside in the corridor.

Before Tyler could voice his mounting concerns, a familiar voice shattered the silence in the room, leaving the hybrid rooted to the spot, his anxiety palpable.

"I wouldn't worry about that. He won't be seeing anyone for a while," Klaus announced, strolling into the room with a malicious smile that deepened the hybrid's unease. At Klaus's side was Olive, who had positioned herself on the other side of Bill's hospital bed.

Tyler's voice trembled as he began to speak, "How did—"

However, Olive, her disapproving gaze fixed on Bill, cut him off with a sharp tone, "You're famous Bill. The man who can resist compulsion. And who enjoys tormenting his own daughter. With your reputation, it wasn't hard to guess why you'd be here."

Tyler found himself trapped between two formidable figures in the room. When one of them was in the room he was scared. With both of them, he was ready to shit his pants. He instinctively made a move as if to flee through the window, but Olive's command halted him in his tracks.

"Stop,"she ordered, her voice bearing an authority he couldn't resist.

Frozen in place, Tyler could only stare at her in a mixture of fear and unease.

"How did you do that?" Bill questioned, looking bewildered, his gaze darting between the two. The sire bond was meant to exist solely between Klaus and Tyler, and Olive should not have held any sway over it.

Amid this perplexity, Olive clarified, "Oh, I guess he didn't tell you everything. Klaus told him he has to do everything that I say, so it's like he's sired me too."

Tyler lowered his head, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He didn't want Bill to know. He didn't want to lie but it was embarrassing. It was one thing to be sired to Klaus out of some misplaced gratitude. It was another to be an unwilling whipping boy.

"What's mine is yours, darling," the Original chimed in, planting a peck on Olive's lips, eliciting a fond smile from her.

Still visibly distressed, Tyler implored to them both, "I just want my freedom back." However, Klaus's grin in response only fueled his anger. He glanced between the two of them, feeling utterly enraged and trapped. "It won't be long before the other hybrids try to break the sire bond. Being your bitch is a great motivator."

"Tyler, sweetie." Olive began, circling the bed to stand before the frozen hybrid. "You're the only one that is still sire bound," she tsks, shaking her head condescendingly.

"What?" he exclaimed, clearly shocked by the revelation.

"We knew that the sire bond was more than likely to occur, and an unwilling army would fail before it took its first step. So, we took care of it," Klaus explained.

"But because you're special you don't get to," Olive added with a mocking tone. She raised her hand and playfully slapped Tyler's cheeks, causing him to flinch.

"Now, I want you to go back to the mansion and tell Sutton what you tried to do, and she will be handling your punishment," Klaus instructed, opening the door for the reluctant hybrid. Olive stepped away from Tyler, allowing him some freedom of movement.

Tyler hesitated, casting a final, troubled look towards Bill, and then back to the imposing Hybrid. "He'll be fine. I have no reason to kill him. Go. Now."

Grudgingly, Tyler left the room, closing the door behind him as he exited. Olive waved mockingly to him, her expression a silent taunt, before he departed.

Bill, now alone in the hospital room with Klaus and Olive, took this unprecedented opportunity to voice his concerns. "What's your plan now? My daughter will be-"

Klaus cut him off sharply, "If you tell Caroline she'll try and storm the house to rescue her boyfriend and find herself on the business end of a stake." Olive moved to stand beside Klaus, lightly caressing his back.. "Or you don't tell your daughter and she remains unharmed and blissfully unaware," the Original stated.

Bill looked over both the two looming figures in his secluded room. One wrong move and he would never get out of this bed again. He clenched his jaw, resolute, but allowed himself to ask a pressing question. "I won't tell my daughter that you have Tyler. If you tell me why you are keeping him." Bill said, his tone a blend of determination and concern.

Olive responded cryptically, "He needed to be punished."

Bill pressed further, inquiring, "Why?"

However, Olive chose to remain silent, her sly smile the only response.

"I trust that you understand that if you try to help the young Lockwood again, I will be forced to rip out your tongue and feed it to you," Klaus threatened, his words carrying a chilling menace.

"You vampires, you've always been so arrogant," Bill complained, taking a deep breath. "But I won't tell my daughter what you've done."

With a curt nod, Klaus began to escort Olive out of the room. Just before he opened the door, she paused and turned around, her inquisitive expression fixed on Bill.

"You were attacked, you should be dead, or at least unconscious. You said you didn't have any say in this, so how are you awake?" Olive wondered.

Bill remained stubbornly silent, prompting Klaus to express his impatience. "I would answer her or else we'll have to pay your daughter a visit."

Fearful of their short tempers, Bill begrudgingly admitted, "My doctor, Meredith, she uses vampire blood to heal her patients."

"Huh." Olive responded thoughtfully.

Klaus opened the door, and they left the hospital room, hand in hand, making their way back home, leaving Bill alone in the echoing room, his thoughts mired in worry and uncertainty.