#open coffin

Soreness dug into your bones, aching at the flesh that surrounded them. Your hands were bound upwards, like angel wings they cascaded towards the ceiling while your feet were bound with shackles around your thighs. How many times the day and night hunted each other you had no idea, nor how much Esther's mental torture was working. She and Finn had been digging around in your mind endlessly ever since they dragged you away. Only now, after a day-long session, they let you truly rest for the first time.

You groaned as you awoke from an exhaustion-fueled nap, cursing the magical trinket above you that held your shackles in place. If not for it, you could have easily escaped the second they left you alone.

Shuffling from the other side of the room made you raise your head. A figure stood in the tombs hallway, moving towards you in steady steps. With your blurred vision, you only saw blood-ridden skin and clothing as the person neared. Dark mischievous eyes met yours soon after, which bore an unmatched rage yet softened when you finally saw him.

"How are you here?" You asked, even though you knew the answer. There was only one.

"Esther. She brought me back as motivation. I had other plans" Kol smirked before tugging at the protection trinket that hung above your head. It ripped in half easily, as did the chains that no longer kept you prisoner.

"Feet shackles too, huh?" He snickered.

"I tried to strangle her with my thighs at least once" You shrugged.

"That's my girl." He chucked before offering his hand. "Let's bugger off before we have to fight our way out of here."

Not that they would stand a chance if it came down to it

A block away you stopped speeding and pulled him into a long wished hug amongst passersbys. His shoulders were steady and you clung to them like the smell of fire clung to fabrics. With your time spent together, there was always a certainty of a goodbye coming too soon. So when he tried to pull away, you shook your head and only slung your arms tighter around him.

He lifted your head with a soft touch under your chin, pressing his lips onto yours. The kiss felt almost too real, the colors around you too bright, the soft touch of his lips too comforting - it felt like a fairytale. But your life was a Grimm fairytale at best, bloody and unrelenting. For now, you could at least pretend that it was real.

"How about we pick up a few road trip snacks? " He nodded towards a couple that was loading up their car in front of a two-story house.

"Later." You shook your head.

First, you had to get further away from the city centre. You took his hand before speeding away to the far eastern parts of the city. Passing Poland Avenue you travelled hand in hand across train tracks and barbed wire fences to reach the decommissioned naval base. It had one of the best vantage points in the city, especially now with the sun almost waking from its slumber.

One vampire strength induced jumps and you stood atop the flat concrete roof. Just below your feet a phrase in graffiti two stories high was scribbled along the base's massive barrier: "OPEN YOUR EYES."

Dangling your feet over the edge you sat there, Kol's arm around you while holding unto his hand as if he would disappear. In his arms, you felt soft, flayed open for the fading stars to see beneath your skin and reveal your sins. You were never a saint nor was he. Never was. Living life like yours won't likely end peacefully you reckoned, but being here now was all that mattered.

And maybe, maybe, nothing ever really mattered at all. That maybe, nothing ever made any sense because this, him right here next to you, his hands devotedly holding on to you like your all he has, is all the sense you've ever been able to make of this world.

But despite the reassuring shoulder you leaned into, the sun and with it the truth that lay hidden in the cloak of night soon revealed itself and you had to face your less-than-ideal reality. This dreamlike exit from your current life in New Orleans was ideal - perhaps too much so - but real life was hardly dreamy.

You relished in touch for a moment longer, before you spoke "I want nothing more than you and me together like this. That's all I need" You turned to him, shifting away slightly, grasping the wooden object that had appeared behind you.

"If only it were real." Your hand was quick and ruthless as the stake into Kol's chest.

The sound of his hitched breath followed you back to consciousness as your eyes opened in a flash, staring back at the grey stone walls that had surrounded you for days now.

"Esther!!!!! " You screamed as loud as you could and your voice carried through the candle-lid tomb. She turned a corner in front of you moments later, a knowing look on her face.

"My dear please, inside voice." She said and shushed you with a whip of her finger. She reminded you of your mother then, always making sure to keep everyone quiet when your father was on a rampage again. What a fool you were to think of them now.

You shook these feelings off with a shake of your head before you spoke again "Kol died in my arms, do you think hurting or killing fake versions of him is gonna work?"

In truth it was working, perhaps not to the extent Esther had planned, but it was working regardless. How could it not? You had a heart, albeit a blackened one.

"I must say your memories are most intriguing. You've caused quite the chaos in all sorts of places. From getaway driver for the mob, inciting insurrections, to painting the town red -as they say- all on your lonesome."

"One gets bored or pissed off every now and then." You shrugged "Besides, I've done good things too, but you like to sweep those under the rug, don't you? We're all just monsters to you, right?"

"I remember we had a similar conversation long ago." She reminisced, letting her mind wander a moment "My offer remains the same. Relinquish your evil ways, be reborn a human, and I promise you, I will have Kol join your side."

It would be so easy to just say yes. You could live out the rest of your days somewhere, with no bloodlust, no family drama. It was the easiest thing to do, but sadly, easy isn't always right. Even more so when the offer comes from someone like Esther.

You caught her gaze and said "You know what my answer is. "

"As you wish." Esther walked away then, blinding another bundle of herb cuttings on a table on the other side of the room which pulled you into a trance-like state almost immediately. Damn her and her little tricks.

"I asked when you brought me here but I'll ask again. What are you trying to do here exactly?" You asked, fighting to stay awake "Break me? My mind is way scarier than you'll ever be."

"If you must know," She replied "You are linked to Niklaus which links your mind as well as your body. If I manage to get past your barricades, I will have access to his memories."

"What makes you think you can break through? Have you met me?"

A different voice spoke instead of the woman before you, and you had to stifle a laugh when he came into view.

"She has her ways." Finn walked into view ever so pretentious, a hand angled behind his back "And so do I"

The body Finn was inhabiting, Vincent Griffith, would no doubt strike fear in you with all he was involved in the past. Real bad business. But Finn, with his disguise of righteousness and overcompensated morals, evoked nothing but the desire to throttle him.

"What bore me to death? You're right, that might work." You joked, laughing at your own quip.

"I see Niklaus' company has rubbed off on you. How disappointing." He stepped closer, the glimmer of a knife bouncing off the candlelight "We ought to fix that"

When he neared, you kept your eyes firm on him, showing no inkling of emotions as the knife slid across your throat and exposed arms, bleeding you dry like a slaughtered animal.

----

You tried to not keep track of time. It made it easier. When the pain came, it came in sharp, blistering burns you tried to block out the best you could. For every painful sensation, you tried to suffocate it with memories of a better time, a warmer life;

The first taste of freedom as a newly turned vampire running away from the house that had been your prison, the heat of the fire sharp behind your back

Pain.

The sound of Stefan's happy laughter as you chased each other around the house when your father wasn't around, and his wide beaming smile when you pulled him in your arms and spun him around in a circle.

Pain.

Kol. A fierce grin, a snarky comment, a steady hand on your back when you needed it.  A force of nature forged by the cruelty of life that remained ever hopeful.

P a i n

Let it be over. Please, let it be over.

P A I N

…..

Another few days went by like they meant nothing. By now you knew that nobody was coming for you. That Klaus served you up on a silver platter to soothe the codependency he shared with Elijah. It would be honorable really if you hadn't been the price to be paid for it. It was hardly a surprise, but him not even attempting to get you out of Esther's grasp was certainly one. Especially after he urged you to stay inside to be safe.

And Kaleb… well he wasn't anywhere to be seen either. He probably took the opportunity and scurried away, like they all do once you let your guard down. Either by death or abandonment, you're like a haunted house made flesh; intriguing until the door opens.

So here you were, still locked in a tomb in the cemetery, not bound to the ceiling anymore but shackled to the place by a magically sealed ball and chain.

Esther had been prodding around in your mind like a maniac in your memories as a human and beyond, hoping to find something to break you. When she was in your head, memories tended to flash by as if living on pages of a book that was hastily searched through. One minute you saw your grandmother waving at the gates to bid you farewell, then looking out of your room at night wondering how to get beyond the treeline's boundaries. Then once more you stood in front of the burning house on the outskirts of Mystic Falls where everything you loved and hoped for went up in flames.

Some recent memories followed too, the endless nights spent like savages drinking your guilt and grief away. Violence, blood, and heartache were visitors too and even flashes of Kaleb made their way into your consciousness, despite how much you wished them away.

However, what happened today was still rummaging around in your mind like a cough you couldn't shake. Esther found a memory that was not your own and she lingered, hoping it would reveal Klaus' secret. She did it then, she broke through.

You found yourself in the passenger's seat of a car that was speeding through what seemed like secluded country roads. Klaus was driving, nervously tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he glanced in the back view mirror. A radio station was playing and cutting out every few feet as the car sped along, illuminating the night with bright headlights.

You snapped your finger in front of his face, not knowing if he could see you or not. But it was only a memory.

"Look into the mirror." Esther's voice was like a never-ending echo whispering and aching through every atom of your body. You resisted her demand, knowing that whatever she sensed had the potential of running everything. Esther saw what you saw so instead of looking into the mirror, you reached back with your hand. Your fingers hit the backseat first, then slipped upwards until they found a plastic object, and then further still until you touched skin. It was softer than any skin you'd touched before.

Your hand carefully grasped upwards and your breath hitched as your fingers glided over smooth skin. You continued lower, moving along grasping what you could. It felt like a small foot, almost baby-sized. Why did Klaus have a child in his back seat? That's when it dawned on you who that kid was. It had to be her. Klaus' daughter was alive. That's what he was hiding.

The car neared its destination as the headlight illuminated another car in front of you. A red sportscar with a figure standing next to it. When the light engulfed them, her long blond hair was visible from a distance, almost as bright as the smile on her face. Rebekah.  

Thankfully, that's when Esther's magical connection severed and everything disappeared into particles.  

Esther huffed and puffed when you came to, fueled by your lack of cooperation before she lost her composure and hurried away.

With her gone you could let your face fall. Klaus' daughter was alive. She was alive . It all made sense now. The secrecy, the mistrust, even the fear in Klaus's eyes when Mikael nearly ended him. He had a new purpose, something to fight for that wasn't tied to his family's long road of miseries.

But having that meant he also had something to lose, that wasn't easily controlled by a threat with a dagger. Welcome to the club.

But what did Esther want with her? One thing was clear, she had no good intentions and it was high time you got the fuck out of there.

…….

New guards had arrived in the hour that followed your trip of the mind. Two young men belonging to the witches. Of which coven you were not sure. They stood in front of the tomb's entrance, speaking loud enough for you to hear them.

"You know she's cuter than I thought." One of them, the tall dark-haired of the two, said "You think she would go out with me?"

"Are you dumb?" His dirty-blonde friend returned, wondering if his friend had lost his mind "You shouldn't touch her with a ten-foot pole. She's with the Mikaelsons, specifically Kol scary-ass Mikaelson."

That's right.

"Yeah, but isn't he dead?"

"Nothing stays buried here, you should know that, dumbass."

The two men reminded you of the two New York residents just then, and a familiar ache crawled up your neck. If you could just break free you could sink your teeth- God you were hungry. When was the last time you fed? Hell, how long have you been here?

A shadow moved towards you, much like the torturous escapes Esther made you live through, but it wasn't Kol who came to your rescue. It was someone who had already come to your aid once before.

"Is this real??" You heard yourself saying, not sure if you actually spoke out loud

"I'm real," Marcel reassured, coming into your view more clearly. He tucked at the protection charm hanging from the ceiling, much like the dream version of Kol had, and ripped the chains in two easily.

"How did you get in here? I thought you were banned."

"I might not know much, but I sure as hell know how to be a scary son-of-a-bitch" Marcel shrugged, growing quiet for a moment to check the surroundings "Stay down and follow me."

As Marcel skillfully navigates the cemetery, a realization made itself known that, even amidst his own burdens, he saved you. Much like he saved you when you met. He was drowning in grief and self-loathing - as were you - and somehow you made it to shore together.

Crossing over the threshold, you expected to be stopped by a boundary spell but you made it through without any hitches. Which begged the question, of whether Esther was so preoccupied with something else that she became careless, or if she let you go willingly. You didn't know which version was worse.

You and Marcel kept going for a block or two until you saw someone at the end of the street. When you neared a man with a bow in his hand and, as it seemed, the world on his shoulder greeted Marcel with a nod. He seemed vaguely familiar but you could not put your finger on it.

"Who the hell is this?" You asked.

"Backup in case they got me too." Marcel explained.

The man was eyeing you suspiciously until something clicked and his face softened ever so slightly "You're Y/N Salvatore."

"One and only. I hope." You side-glanced, imagining a doppelganger of yourself out there. One of you is enough, you concluded.

"This is Ansel." Marcel stepped in, sensing the needed context "Klaus' father."

Your eyes grew wide with surprise, glancing at the only person somewhat related to the Mikaelsons you haven't met yet. Why the hell was he here? If Mikael learns of him, hell gladly kill him once again, as he did over a thousand years ago.

Ansel shifted awkwardly, clearing his throat "Esther pulled me from the other side before it collapsed."

"Does that mean…"Newly found hope ignited within you, hoping she pulled Kol from the other side too and held him, prisoner, somewhere. It would have been months by now, but one could hope.

Marcel shook his head "Haven't seen him. He'd be the first one here if he was. "

Anger rose within your tortured mind, aching away any sense left over. Of course, everyone gets resurrected, but the one person that would matter was stuck somewhere.

"Let's get the fuck out of here then." You said, "I have to visit Dracula in his castle and break a few necks and faces."

Marcel let out a huffed laugh "Not gonna lie they have it coming, but you gotta slow down. You're no use to anyone hurt or worse."

"I will." You reassured. It was a lie, and Marcel knew it, but he still nodded along.

"There's something else." He continued "Your friend, Kaleb, went out there looking for you. Tried to get to you in the cemetery before you were taken but Klaus stopped him before he could."

Kaleb…shit.

"You know where he went?" You asked.

"I heard he started asking the Tremé coven for assistance." Marcel replied, "But my guess is he got wrapped up with the no-good kind of them."

"I might have seen him a few days ago. Tall, dark hair, english accent?"  Ansel asked, using a hand to indicate the height of the man he saw.

"Big mouth on him too." Marcel muttered, showing his disdain clearly.

Turning to Ansel you asked, "You mind showing me where you've seen him?" He confirmed with a quick nod.

"I'll deal with Klaus then," Marcel added, jaw clenched in anger.

"Don't bother." You told him off "He and I will have a talk eventually."  Oh and what a talk that will be.

The plan was clear, but Marcel still had yet to budge, eying Ansel with a  suspicious look on his face. "You sure you're gonna be OK?"

"I will be." You reassured but he had still yet to budge. He wasn't convinced, still helicopter-parenting from afar.

You confirmed again with a determined nod. Marcel was conflicted but only shrugged, drew you into a hug and told Ansel to keep an eye on you, before he walked away.

You then followed Ansel a few blocks in silence before curiosity got the better of you. It wasn't every day that someone who had died a millennium ago was now under the living again.

You cleared your throat before you spoke "Since you've been on the other side, you know how to resurrect someone?"

"You should let it be." He brushed you off with ease, not even looking in your direction "Loving a Mikaelson, it doesn't end well"

Well, that wasn't what you had expected.

"I don't care." You replied, following after him as he took a sharp turn through an alley.

"You should. Imagine your life without chasing after him and an unattainable life." Ansel spoke even though he could feel the rage radiating from you "Run far away and fast. Take that boy you're searching for with you and go."

"Don't remember I asked for your opinion".

"It's not an opinion, it's a warning. Heed it."

Who was he to evaluate your life? He all but met you minutes ago. There was no basis for his judgement. None at all. Unless...

"You spoke to him, didn't you? On the other side?"

Ansel gave a quick nod "We crossed paths. He never left your side, not once."

Your heart all but leapt out of your chest hearing him utter these words. He was always by your side. It was unfathomable really, divided by an invisible curtain of time, yet he remained steadfast.

"He told me he wanted you to move on. To be safe" Ansel added.

"Doesn't mean I have to listen to him." Kol should know you enough to know you'd never give up. Never.

"As you wish. Still, heed my warning. For your own good." Ansel said, crossing the street before he stopped, pressing his back to a wall as he looked around a corner of a building.

"Saw him sneaking into that building. Climbed the rain pipe off to the side there." He pointed to the left side of the building "Now if you don't mind, I have a business to attend to.

"Thanks for the help. You watch your back out here, alright?"

Ansel nodded and retreated into the shadows cast by the buildings that stood tall beside him.

What a peculiar man.

---------------------

It wasn't hard to find Kaleb after Ansel's tip. The Tremé coven redirected you to one of their fringe groups that were cast out for their murderous rituals. Getting the location was not hard either, looking like you just crawled out of a grave. And your reputation certainly helped too.

Breaking the door down of the long-abandoned former apartment complex was more troublesome than you would have liked. Usually, a swift kick would have sufficed.

Voices bled through the ceiling above you, and you follow them to a corridor of doors. Most were broken down or corroded, but one bore the spray-painted sigil of a coven that was banished from the Treme coven.

Swinging the door open, open you were met with a handful - maybe 8 - coven members. They dropped what they were doing immediately.

"I had a pretty shitty few days so if you want to keep your life just get the fuck out."

A few of them fled immediately,  some stayed before following the others. Only one brave soul remained. You stalked towards them with your shirt still ripped, blood-soaked skin, and a look of determination that made them retreat soon after.

Kaleb was tiptoeing on the floor in the backroom of the apartment. He was bound much like you were only an hour ago. He flinched when he heard the door opening and cowered in on himself as much as he could anticipating another act of violence. His shirt was sliced open and barely hung on his shoulders, his chest, arms, and even his face were littered with cuts and bruises from beatings. He looked horrible.

He uttered your name when you released him, and he did not waste a breath and crushed his chest into yours, pressing you close.

"I thought you were done for this time" He murmured, clutching the fabric of your shirt. Warmth caressed your being, enveloping the guilt that had crept up seeing him like this because of your stupid plan. When he pulled away, he did so hesitantly, brushing his fingers along your exposed shoulder.

"I tried to" Kaleb winced as he spoke and clutched the side of his torso. "At the cemetery, I went after you."

"I know." You slumped him over your shoulder, your arm around his waist to steady him. He tried to speak again but winced instead as he tried to find his footing.

"You're ok with me carrying you?" You asked him when the shouldering resulted in a snail's speed of progress. "Or would that bruise your male ego?

"Please." He scoffed, "I'd let you carry me anywhere."

You ended up a few blocks away, resting him on a bench in Jackson Square when the rest of his energy left him and he slid off it and slumped onto the floor.

"Come on, this is ridiculous." You helped him rest his back against the bench, dropping down in front of him "You should drink. "

"No!" He pushed your wrist away with vigor. The last thing he needed was dying with vampire blood in his system.

"Then let me check your wounds at least." You asked and he nodded when you turned to look at him "Come on, St. Anne's isn't far. Just hold onto me and don't let go this time."

------------------------------

His breath was hot on your neck as your fingers worked the alcohol-soaked fabric over his wounds. He hissed as it touched the deeply scarred tissue on his bare chest. You tried not to notice the goosebumps that erupted along his neck and arms as your fingers touch him, but it was clear he was enjoying it despite the burning alcohol.

He was propped up on one of the church benches near the window, the stained glass bathing his face in colors. He was in bad shape, that much was clear, but there was a look on his face as he glanced at the blood stains on your neck and face. You knew what that look was, you recognized guilt when you saw it; it lived in the cracks of the mind, eroding sense and reason. You knew how it felt, how it chewed away at everything that was once comforting and familiar until there was nothing left but despair and an emptiness which would rather smother than save. And Kaleb's eyes spoke of nothing but guilt.

Another swipe of the soaked fabric against a fresh cut and he winced, his muscles flexing under your touch.

"I'm sorry." You moved your hand away but he caught it and pressed the fabric into his wound again. "You OK?"

"I'm alright." He grumbled.

You knew that tone, you used it far more than you cared to admit. It was the one reserved for moments when memories and feelings were too closely intertwined to separate. It was the sound of resolve slowly being pieced back together and the knowledge that, no matter what you proclaimed, he was decidedly not alright.

"What the hell did they do to you?" Your eyes roamed his bruised chest once more. Beaten black and blue adorned with cuts all over him

"Cut me open, starved, and beat me." He swallowed, thinking back on the horrible things his mind had painted when he was out of it. "They wanted me to plead with them to end it. But I'm not the pleading sort."

Silence overcame you again, accompanied only by the squirms and hisses Kaleb tried to hide when you stitched up his wounds with a needle and thread. Once done, you wrapped a few rounds of gauss around his torso, soaking up the remnants of blood.

A ghost of a smile tucked on his lips as you hand him the only t-shirt you could find on short notice. You took a seat next to him on the table. He poked his head through the opening, followed by his arms. The shirt sat a bit too tight on his frame, but it was clothing nonetheless.

"I'm glad you're safe," Kaleb said and looked at you again, and let his hand drop into yours. He watched how the reddish-brown of blood still soaked both of your skins before he spoke again "I should've tried harder to get you back."

"I'm glad you're safe too. But you shouldn't have tried to find me. It's not-"

"Worth it? Of course, you are." He didn't look away this time, certainty holding his gaze.

For a moment, you wondered why your chest suddenly felt so constricted, as if your lungs had run out of air. The problem was this: you were at that very moment having a rather difficult time forgetting what it had been like to kiss him.

Kaleb shifted under your gaze, fumbling with his fingers "When I was down there all I could think about was that night before it all went wrong."

Ah, right. The rooftop incident.

"I'm sorry.." What were you sorry for exactly? Running away after kissing him? Or kissing him at all? Or was it a bundled mess of I'm sorry's that you could never explain away?

"I'm just sorry, period." You finally said, "You got hurt, and that's on me."

"What is love, if not pain endured? "He murmured to himself as if reciting a novel whose passages were burned into his mind. Then his brain caught up with what he had just uttered and he tensed "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get ahead it's just- "

"No, it's OK. I know there was- is something. Whatever it was before, it’s more now, it’s-” You stopped short of the full declaration, swallowing around the lump in her throat.

"Maybe we should stop,” He murmured, stroking his thumb over your cheek, still holding your hand with the other “Get some distance.”

Distance. How could you remain at distance if you were so intertwined in each other's current life? But perhaps distance was achievable somehow, even if by force.

"There's a harbor not far from here, you can get on a boat or train and go." The harshness in your voice did not match the way you held onto his hand, as if you'd fall any minute.

"You really want me to go?" There was a vulnerability in his voice that made your heartbreak.

No. "Yes. If it means you'll be safe I'd do anything." You had the urge to tell him to run away, but you couldn't say it, even if you should.

"Then perhaps I should consider it." His head dropped.

“No,” You hissed, clutching his shirt tightly. “Even if this is wrong… I’m not ready to give that up before it even started.” You're the only person I have is was what you didn't say. It wasn't right nor was it fair, but it felt good. And you just wanted to feel good.

You moved your mouth against his insistently, feeling the shaking breath from his nose on your top lip as he stood stock still, shocked into inaction. You pulled away slightly, staring into his wild eyes as he exhaled quickly and dove forwards to capture your lips once again. He kissed you hungrily, his hands ghosting your sides before grabbing at your hips and pulling you against him. You capture his lips once more, but he pulled away only an inch to speak.

"I need you to know something before we-" He was out of breath, cheeks red with excitement. He cursed himself for speaking at that moment because he would curse himself even more for not speaking the words he should have said weeks ago.

But you proclaimed the moment was over before he could speak, the bubble of carefree indulgence burst for the time being.

"No, I'm sorry." You stepped out of his grasp, pursuing the wall behind you "I just... I got carried away. You're right, we shouldn't do this."

His head dropped in defeat, but he forced a smile, hoping it would ease the guilt he knew you felt. He knew he could ease the pain he could just open his mouth. Fuck it, he was just going to blurt it out and everything would be fine.

He cleared his throat and straightened himself up, raising his head to meet you on the other side of the room. When he looked, all he saw was your back heading through the towering double doors.  

-----

You felt like a goddamn fool. A guilty, broken, and undeserving fool. You had overstepped the relationship you developed with Kaleb, after trying to push him away. Relationship?! You're an even bigger fool than you thought.

If he - you did not even dare to speak his name - could see you now, he'd pity himself for wasting his time on you if you gave up that easily. What a damn mess you made of things.

Hunger overcame you when the guilt subsided, and you searched for some drunken fool on the street. You clawed at their neck to feed your need, needing to taste blood on your teeth. Tonight was the night to feed, lay plans, and rest. Tomorrow-

Your thoughts were drowned out by a sudden blackness that enveloped your senses, and all you could hear was the dull thump of your body hitting the pavement.

____________

A/N: Been writing this on the music tour I'm working on, so I hope it's not too choppy or weird! As always, sorry for the long time in between! Hope you are doing well! 

Your name: submit What is this?

At certain times in life, there is this premonition, a sense of knowing that something is coming. It is felt in the air in every passing breeze, and there is nothing one can do to stop it. It blows from the environment to throw its opponent off balance. Could be a monster with sharp claws, a bullet, a virus or bacteria. Or, in your case, a wooden and deadly staff handled with ancient vampire strength. 

The attack came from the left side, poignant and with precision.  The wood colliding with the carved stick in your hands send vibrations through your arms, that travelled to your shoulders. Strike blocked. Another attack came swiftly, this time from below in an upwards angle calculated just right to throw you off balance. Blocked again. You could see it in Mikael´s face; he was growing frustrated by every passing round of attack. He threw his weight behind his next attack, that edged closer to your face. Pain erupted from the point of impact as it sliced through the skin just above your cheekbone. Mikael doubled up again and brought the staff to your knees, swiftly knocking you off balance.  You fell backwards like a sack of wood but caught yourself midair before landing on your stomach. 

He's good. 

He forced you down with the edge of the staff, burying your face in the dirt. He could kill you with a push of his weight, but he relented. You heard his feet cracking the ground beneath him as he turned his back and walked away as the champion. 

Or so he thought. 

You pushed yourself up with your dirt-covered hands, using your vampire speed and the element of surprise to your advantage. Holding the staff in a horizontal line, you went after him. He let out a huffed gurgle when you pulled back on the wood you pressured against his neck, pulling him against your torso. Mikael reacted swiftly and brought his weight forward to overthrow your chokehold like a bull trying to buckle of its rider. You let yourself fall over his back with your hand around the staff, nearing the ground with your backside, only to switch to your front as you easily grasped the staff out if his hands. Swiftly and without hesitation you plunged the staff into his face before you brought it down to his feet to trip him over. He landed into the dirt as you did before, face red with anger. 

“I told Klaus already," You said, pointing the end towards his heart, while the Mikaelson family runic crest buried itself into the flesh of your hands "never turn your back on a Salvatore. Especially not me. ”

He was hurt in his pride, that much was evident, but there was a glimmer of surprise in his eyes that made you proud. You've beaten the vampire that hunts vampires. Granted, he had lost his touch over the years on the other side, but he still had centuries on you. It was a cause for celebration, or at least it was something to hold over him if you needed to. 

Mikael scrambled to his feet, dusting off his dirt-covered clothes tainting the afternoon sun with dust particles "You fight well.“ 

"That's what happens when you grow up with two brothers that constantly had to one-up each other. You learn to fight if you're the one in the middle.” You said, sparing a thought to how you´d find Stefan and Damon in front of your house, fighting each other with their bare hands or loose wood from the barn a few ways down from the front door. You would always see them through the smudged window in the housekeeping room where your mother used to teach you what a girl should learn to become a proper woman. But you never cared for it. Instead, you would run outside your dress dragging in the dirt as you pushed your brothers apart even onto the dirt if you had to. 

You pushed that memory aside, and you bend over to grab the staff on the floor, your fingers gliding over the ornate wood once more “The crest.” You continued “What does it mean?” 

Mikael seemed surprised by your interest, even if it was covered with a loud sigh of contentment. Yet, he complied and drew the crest in the dirt beneath him “Long ago this was the Norse alphabet rune “Gebu”. It´s meaning varied from spear to gift but has been used to refer to Odin's spear Gungnir. It was believed that it had been given to Odin by Loki and is known for always hitting its mark, no matter the obstacle.”

“Always hitting bullseye no matter what? Yeah, that describes your family pretty well.” You shared a quick look with him before you turned away, heading for the cabin. You always wondered if Mikael missed his northern home - his true north so to speak- or if rage consumed him entirely without leaving a trace of the Wikingr he once was. And if the same thing will happen to you if the seething anger you developed over the last 3 years, triumphs over your sanity. Only time and its unrelenting grasp knew. 

Glancing into the window beside the door you stopped to check your phone that was still outside since last night. You turned it over and unlocked it with a click, groaning when you saw the notification. Twenty-eight missed calls. Most of them were Klaus, a few from Marcel and then…

No way. 

Stefan's name glared at you through the screen and with it a little icon next to him. He left a voicemail. What gravely thing had to occur for him to call you after years of silence? Did Mystic Fall finally burn down to ashes? Perhaps someone scarier than Klaus rolled into town and he just needed help? Whatever it was, the feeling of impending doom lingered in the air when you locked your phone and left it on the table outside. There was no time to linger in what-if scenarios. 

No unnecessary attachments. No distractions - That's how you get things done.

Opening the cabin door a swift of charcoaled sage penetrated your senses, pungent with every step you took. Kaleb stood near a table, an unbuttoned shirt hugging his frame as if he was about to embark on a tropical cruise. He had the table decked out in front of him with elongated squares of stone which looked like they were engraved with runic symbols. 

You closed the door behind you, the remnant of your late-night drinking session from the night before, collided together with the door´s vibration against the brittle wood. Last night you sparsely told Kaleb why you brought Mikael back, but your conversation quickly dissolved to more than just small talk. The alcohol loosened your tongue to a comfortable degree. It was strange to be unburdened by the fear of judgment. There wasn't any lasting damage that you had to fear, nothing you had to be ashamed of when looking him in the eyes and nothing you had to live with forever. Maybe the prospect of dying and not be burdened by anything that lasted had its advantages after all. It was easier at least. 

When you stepped further into the room, Kaleb looked up from the bowl he had in his hand. Passing him, you discarded the sheer jacket that was stained with the particles of your meeting with the dirt floor outside. You flipped open the cooler filled with the blood bags, taking inventory of how many remained. Two. Great. Hunger was plaguing you more than it ever had. The cooler was full yesterday. 

You jumped when Kaleb’s fingers gently wrapped when he turned your shoulder towards him to inspect the damage that had already healed, the only reminder of it a sheer layer of red. You pushed his hand away, regretting your action within a second after witnessing the guilty look on his face.

He shuffled back to where he was standing previously and cleared his throat before he spoke: “I don't think sparring with him is a good idea.” 

“What, do you think he'd kill me? I´m a dead vamp walking no matter what, so who cares?” 

“Don't you mean an undead dead vampire?” He joked before his face contorted into a questioning gaze “Wait…” He laughed. When you returned his laughter with a chuckle, he seemed proud, face beaming with a sense of accomplishment. 

So he likes to make people laugh. Noted.

Kalebs gaze lingered for another moment, then he glanced out of the window to watch Mikael train with nothing but the wind as his opponent." You´ve told me how you brought him back, but not why." He continued, a worried tone now coating his voice "I assume it is more than just as a sparring partner?" 

You shook your head “You should know as little as possible. They will come after you if they find out you know something. ”

“You're still not the trusting sort.” He noted, “And I thought we've bonded.”

The truth was you had bonded to a certain degree, and you were wary of the developing attachment.

“Well, do you trust me?” You questioned.

“Are you slicked? Those sad eyes might fool some people, but not me. I know what you're after.” Stoic and calculated he stared you down before his mouth contorted into a lighthearted smile “You've got a lecherous heart, Y/N! I won't be used, not for my body, nor my magic!” 

You turned your head to hide a smile, but he caught on and lid up with pride. "Speaking of magic.” You nodded towards the table next to him “How's all this supposed to work anyway?"

“This-” He stepped closer, pointing with his fingers to the runes surrounded by a salt and ash circle “Is an ancient runic foretelling. Like a, uh, prophecy.”

“So like a fancy version of tarot cards?” You said bluntly, “How is that gonna help?”

“Depending on what runes appear, we will have a vague indication of what's causing the bleeding; Spell, curse, your vampire body rejecting magic… whatever it may be. If we know what it is, we can reverse it. “

You looked at him and wondered how someone like him came across a spell this old and what atrocities he had to commit to get a hold of it. Magic like this was not given out to anybody without affiliating to one of the more eclectic covens. You should know, that's what you´ve been doing for the past years. 

You were about to litter him with questions, but the opening of the screeching cabin door made you pause, and all questions washed away. 

“What have we here?" Mikael said from the doorway before stepping closer to examine Kaleb’s spell. " I have not seen this kind of magic in centuries.“ He looked at him with questioning eyes, observing his reaction as an indication as to end him or not. “How did you come to this knowledge?”

“Well, I've read a lot. You pick up a few things over the years.” He shrugged, and it was clear he had no intention of answering any questions “For example, this is based on a Viking age foretelling where they cut off a branch and sliced it into strips and marked them with different signs and threw them at random onto a cloth. Whatever stripes they picked up was the works of the gods. This is just a more definitive version.”

“Sounds easy enough. What do you need me to do?”

“I just need your blood” Kaleb replied. 

Ah, blood. The ingredient that was most dangerous in combination with magic. It was used for curses, binding spells and all sorts of nasty spells. Could you say you trusted someone you barely know with an ingredient like this? No. But Shank´s research from two days ago was fruitless besides revealing Kaleb's last name, so you had nothing to go on but your gut feeling. 

You bit into the thick flesh of your hand, and your blood pooled in your palm, ready to be used “Where do you want it?”

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The minutes dragged on with slow intent, waiting for them to die and move on to the next. The spell brewed, Mikael had left to an adjoining back room to rest and prepare for an uncomfortable fight he claimed to feel in the air. One would write off this premonition as ramblings of a crazy old man, but you can feel it too. Eyes somewhere distant, watching your every move. Claws ready to rupture skin. The question was, whose claws would draw blood first. The list of people that want to execute lethal force upon you had gotten embarrassingly long over the years, and guessing who was on top of that list equals a horse race with bets running high at all times. 

You used the waiting time and tried to decode the unlinking spell you had been working on for the last year. But the advanced incantations and spellwork scribbled on the dusty pages were more than you were capable of understanding. Still, you had to try. Not to kill Klaus, but to ensure your brothers and everyone in his sire line was safe if his enemies decide to multiply further. Knowing Klaus, he will trample on everyone's sandcastle like a toddler to prove his point and make enemies out of everyone if he had to. 

You glanced over to where Kaleb was chanting with his eyes closed, entirely concentrated on the whispered spell that´s supposed to reveal what the hell was wrong with you. You´ve been trying to find that out for centuries, so you did not hold out hope for a spell like this to work. 

Out of nowhere, your senses alerted you of a rustle in the bushes, very soft steps were coming from behind. So faint, it was almost mistakable as the wind. Your ears twitched. Two-legged. Not an animal then.

Kaleb picked up on the sudden change of stature and paused the chanting and shared a look of alertness. "You think it's him? The original?”

“Probably. Or about a thousand other people that want me dead, take your pick. You know of all the places to die this didn't make my list. Where is the blaze of glory and a badass backing track?”

Stepping outside into the cooling night air you kept your eyes on the treeline beyond where the sound came from, but it was clear without sparing too many seconds that there was only one person who would chase you here despite all spoken cautions. And that one wouldn't hide in the bushes. He would instead break a window in or kick the door down rather than hide like some common thief. So why was he silent? Something wasn't right. 

"Hey, I'll get some wood for the stove." You stated at high volume, masking your approach to whoever was out there. Wrapping your hands around the axe that penetrated a tree stump, you stepped into the open.

The rustling sound of bushes was persistent, dominating over the deafening sound of crickets near the body of water down the way. They moved from the left to the right, your eyes impulsively trained to pinpoint their movement. 

He watched as you disappeared into the bushes, only to appear seconds later, dragging someone behind you in the dirt. 

“Got him,” You said, hurling the unconscious stranger over your shoulder. 

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Minutes easily passed waiting for the stranger to wake from his scare. But he had no intention of cutting the wait short. His head was hanging low, almost touching his knees. Softly breathing he sat there, while you waited for any sign of movement. 

“How is he still unconscious?” You sighed. 

"You gave him quite the scare, I'm sure." 

"To be fair, that guy looks like he would be scared by a kitten." You said, eying him with pity "I think a nice wakeup call is in order."

"What are you thinking? Fire?" Kaleb chimed in. 

"You do know all of this is made out of wood, right?" You asked, pointing on the wooden interiors. 

"Don't tell me you don't like to set things ablaze." 

"I'm not one for setting anything on fire these days." You muttered, pushing the rush of guilt that enveloped you down where it belonged. Only thinking about the smell of fire, the embers that sprinkle into the air and the blasting heat that melted skin from bones, was enough to wish that you could dig a hole and be swallowed into the earth without abandon. 

But there was no time for it now. Perhaps there never will be. 

"You know let's not go the magic route." You continued "Sometimes all you need is a good slap in the face to get the day started."

"Sure, who needs caffeine if a slap in the face will do." Kaleb chuckled.

You closed in on the stranger and slapped him in the face with gusto, stirring him awake like an unexpected thunder. Realisation dawned on him when he blinked through his tired eyelids and saw your face 

“Oh shit, you're Y/N.” He tried to make a run for the door, but you pushed him back where he came from “Oh God, I'm so dead.”

“See?" You looked over your shoulder gesturing your hands toward the tied up stranger "That is how they usually react. With fear. Not all cocky and all-knowing like you were.”

“Well, I find your intimidation charming.” Kaleb grinned. 

"Sure, because me being scary is such an admirable quality."

"You know numerous ways to kill a man. It's hot." He shrugged unapologetically.

“Uh... "The stranger uttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "You know I´m still here, right? Not that I don't condone this flirting but-”  

"I'm not flirting." You defended adamantly. 

"Maybe. But he is, clearly not successfully.” The stranger let out a chuckle and immediately regretted it by the way Kalebs face delved into anger.  

Was that how people saw your early partnership with Kaleb? Did they assume you'd just fall into the arms of somebody else that quickly? If a stranger saw it, everyone else would too. You could already hear them talk behind your back, laughing at your broken promises and weak composure. What if those rumors were the only thing Kol would hear when he'd walk the earth again when you were dead and gone? You could not are the thought. However useful Kaleb was maybe you had to get rid of him after all. 

“Listen," You continued "If you tell me who sent you, I might let you live. Spoiler alert, probably not.”

"He said to look out for any sign of trouble, that's it. I'm- I don't want any trouble.”

“Who sent you. I want a name.” You asked again, all the while trying to think of who would send an amateur like him after you. These days everyone knew that he'd be gutted if he crossed your path. 

Following his continued silence you lowered yourself to his seated level, and with your fingers grazing his clothed chest you said “I wonder if you´ve ever had your chest opened before? Or do you prefer something more magical like boiling from the inside? I don't have much time to spare. So If you don´t talk, you´ll find out.” 

“Marcel, okay?!”The stranger spoke with hurry, “He was worried about you hanging out with this guy.” He nodded towards the door. You looked over your shoulder where Kaleb rolled his eyes so hard you swore they'd pop out any second. Eying the stranger again you took notice of his swooped dark hair, overly nervous yet intrigued inquisitive nature and his questionable taste in overly printed dress shirts. It dawned on you that this must be Marcel's friend he had been talking about endlessly. 

“Oh, you're his buddy. Josh!” You retreated your hand from his chest and stepped out of his personal space “Sorry for the well, unwelcoming welcome.”

"Yeah, it's becoming kind of a thing with everyone that hangs out with Count Dracula."

You grimaced at his words. "Do I look like I hang out with Klaus in my free time?" 

Josh considered for a moment, then shook his head "Yeah… probably not. From what I've heard you're more the stabbing him in the back type." His face fell when you raised an eyebrow and he added "Not that he didn't deserve it." 

Ah, that word again. Deserve. Nobody deserves anything. Often neither happiness nor grievances come to those who truly deserve them. It comes to those who consume them if they're entitled to them or not. The ones that persevere and push themselves up by kneeling others into the dirt. Those are the ones that take the good parts while the ones that truly deserve it shoulder the rest. That's the way of the world. Especially the supernatural one. And Klaus was both kneeling in the dirt and pushing others in it. You were unsure if he truly deserved what failed assassination attempt you brought upon him. You were not so sure you were worthy of being the judge, jury and executioner all on your own. Not anymore, and you had no idea if that was a good or bad thing.

“So uh.” Josh looked around the room awkwardly, an unspoken question written over his face. It was nothing new, they all had one if they dared to speak it out loud. 

“Ask what you want to ask.” You sighed.  

“The stories about you. Are they true?” He asked. Kaleb was interested too as his head snapped towards you in interest 

“Most of them.” You shrugged as you leaned against the table's edge behind you. You're not really in the mood to play interview with a vampire "And I think the worst is yet to come so better hurry back and tell Marcel to call off his protectors. I can handle myself. ”

“Yeah, I'd say. You're scary.” Josh headed for the door and dipped to the right only to appear a second later  “Uh, I have no idea where I am. "

“I assume you left your car near the church?” You asked and Josh nodded “It's about 20 miles northeast from here. Cell service is fickle, so just follow the trodden path.” 

"North East. Yeah right okay." He turned on his heels and headed outside again looking left and right to determine where to go. 

"That way." You pointed in the right direction and he thanked you with a round of finger gun before he disappeared. How Marcel has not gotten rid of him yet was beyond you. 

“Why does everybody keep saying that?" You returned to Kaleb side "Am I that scary?”

“Terrifying. In the best way.” He smiled and his gaze drifted to the floor before snapping back to your face. There was an intensity in his stare, unwavering and unrelenting in a way that kept your focus longer than it should have. 

When Kaleb's fingers drifted over your hand his breath hitched and grew still, and you had no intention of moving away. His calloused fingers grazed over your skin and had it not been for the immortal-ish aspects of you, your hands would be as callused, if not worse. 

When you slowly lifted your head to look at him he was so focused on his hand on yours that he did not seem to notice your shifted gaze. Your eyes drifted over his shadowed face, trying to pinpoint what about him it was that kept your attention. There was something familiar about him. The way he held himself, this unwavering confidence and charm that revelled in his authenticity. Perhaps you've met him before when grief had its hold on you, or during one of the anger engulfed moments or perhaps just passed by him on the streets. 

He felt familiar in a way that was comforting. Like a song you heard in passing that resurfaced with questionable intention and you´re left wondering why it felt as if you´ve heard it before.  He felt like bonding on public transport travelling with the same people day in and day out, only to miss them when they take a different route. Or the passing by someone on the streets wondering if it was a ghost of the past or someone that's just bearing a similar face. 

Reality hit soon after your wondering thought and unwavering guilt crushed you under its weight. You drew your hand away and Kaleb jumped at your sudden movement. 

Get a grip. What the fuck are you doing? 

No attachments. No distractions. 

“So, uh... “You cleared your throat, putting some distance between you. “The rune thing. You find anything?” 

“Let´s see.” He burdened a smile and returned to the table to find that etched lines have appeared on the bare stone tablets. 

“Interesting. These two are next to each other, almost connecting."He said, pointing at the first two stones. The first one symbolises strength. You're bound to an unmatched power, yet no that can't be right.”

“What is it?”

“This rune," He said and pointed to the second one "It symbolises power but as an outside force. You´re not tied to your own power."

"What the fuck does that mean?" 

"You're bound to something powerful and that power depletes your own when it is being used. Like a battery of sorts." 

"Too much power for me to handle, huh? Explains the nosebleeds, I guess. But what is it?" 

"Whatever it is it's unlike anything I've seen." Kaleb's further words drifted out of focus when a shower of calculated noises drenched the room. There was someone outside yet again. 

You interrupted his foretelling, holding a finger to your lips "We have another visitor. Stay here and don't come out."

Kaleb reached for your upper arm when you turned away from him and said "Don't go out there." 

You snapped out of his grasp swiftly glaring at him as you said; "You don't tell me what to do." It was a low blow, sure, but perhaps he would keep his distance or disappear before things got even more complicated. Perhaps acting like this will cast him away.

Turning the corner on the far side of the cabin you were met with a suave demeanour full of torment and rage and a newly found hopelessness you had yet to pinpoint its location.

“Oh good, you're here. Want a drink?” You offered a swig of the bottle on the table outside. 

“I'm in no mood to socialize,” Klaus declined sternly, the darkness parting for his body as he stepped onto the splintering wooden walkway.

“When are you ever?" You deadpanned, but Klaus was far from being amused. You tried to lighten the mood, but it was of no use. He was furious. No doubt Esther or her bootlicker of a son spilt the beans about the white oak. Handling matters delicately was never their strong suit. 

"I can tell by the look on your face that you're here to kill me.” You said, trying to soothe the oncoming onslaught of judgement that was heading your way  “I assume I deserve it, but can you tell me why this time? Just so I can keep track. ” 

Klaus dragged his tongue over his parsed lips letting out a pitiful hushed laugh before he sat next to you, staring ahead. “I was simply minding my own business - ruling, killing my enemies and what not - and low and behold what do I hear? The white oak stake has resurfaced in the hands of my mother. My my, word does travel fast among the damned, now doesn't it?“

“Well, I'm sorry the world isn't arranging itself for your schedule.”  You peered back at his expectant face. Anger was flaring through your blood, an amplified sensation whenever Klaus was near. “But I don't see why this is my problem?”

“Don´t be coy with me. This has your name written all over. Disruption the order of long-established rules of battle for your twisted little schemes." He trickled his fingers against the wind as if he was holding strings attached to a marionette to control at his will. No doubt, he viewed you as a puppeteer master these days. High praise indeed, especially coming from someone as wicked as him.  

“I want to know why." His voice was quieter, soft almost, as he spoke into the wind "Why did you defy me when I gave you nothing but trust?” The way he stared holes in the floor uttering these words rattled a rush of guilt that you never expected to be directed at Klaus of all people. Klaus was confident with threats and violence, but bearing himself open was something he barely had the courage for. 

“Let's not pretend that we trust each other just because we shared a sentimental moment. Once.” 

“You know, I find it fascinating that you believe you are invincible to my wrath.” He continued harsher, covering his vulnerability “Our agreement has been made null and void by your actions, and you don't seem to care. More so you seem to enjoy it. Why is that?”

“You´re the master schemer here, tell me, what do you think I'm doing?” You leaned forward, eager to know what he had to say. No doubt he´d see right through the parts you wanted him to see. The question was if he had any idea beyond that. He was the mighty Klaus after all, and more so he was smart.

“I'd say you're playing both sides, though the recent events convinced me of something else entirely. You're bold, fearless; striking without weighing the consequences. Suspicious, isn't it? Unless you have the upper hand.” He turned his head again, observing your reaction like a hawk. “Is this charade your grand plan? Aiding my mother in her endeavors by handing over the only weapon that could kill my family? I must say, I'm not impressed.”

“You think that's the only part? Just another revenge fantasy? And here I thought you finally learned not to underestimate me.”

“It is because I do not underestimate you that I came here.” He said. It was high praise indeed coming from him, even if it came with a trickle of insult to be compared to the likes of the big bad Klaus.

“Good call, not sending Elijah then. He'd kill me just for ruining his shoes in this terrain. But if this is the only reason you came then you can go right back to your castle and rule your kingdom because Esther doesn't have the real white oak. It's s copy.” 

Klaus cocked his head to the side, the lamps fire now perfectly reflecting in his eyes. The look of distrust was written over his face, yet there was no doubt that he was intrigued by the information you laid out.

“See? I´m not trying to play games here. I give you my word.” You added with the hope that at least your word had not lost its ´s value when everything else had. 

He paused, dragging his tongue over his bottom lips swiftly, weighing his responses. “Your word means nothing until you live up to it.” You nodded, a silent promise you had no idea if you could uphold. Who were you kidding, of course, there wasn’t any way you would not place his head on the chopping block if it came to it. This whole thing was nothing but polite stakeouts as a way to keep up with the other´s schemes. Problem was, Klaus would offer you up just the same without blinking. 

The old Klaus anyway. 

If you would listen to the things circulating about him as of late, you'd think he had lost his old tyrannic ways. Found some way to soothe his grudge with the world and became a better person. It was laughable. People don´t change, you found that they mask themselves, sculpting a new life out what the fires left behind. They don´t change, they overpaint. And it was time that the ones whispering about Klaus alleged newly-found compassion, learned that lesson too or they´d head for disappointment. Either way, they'd wake up.

Shuffling from inside averted your attention to the cabin where Mikael and Kaleb were still hidden. Klaus' interest was peaked when your eyes slanted over to the side and remained there for a moment. 

“What is it?” He questioned.

You forced your eyes forward, despite the impending doom running through your veins. “Thought I heard something. Probably just an animal somewhere. Or someone who wants to kill me. Take your guess. These days I'm almost as unpopular as you.” You laughed, quickly glancing through the window again.

Klaus followed your gaze again but saw nothing but an empty cabin. He turned and walked across the porch to look into the other window and although he could not see anything, Mikael was inside with his hands around Kaleb´s throat demanding him to grant his release from your boundary spell. Klaus knew that dealing with witches- even a half witch like you- did not mean that what was in front of your eyes was necessarily what was truly there.

“Well here's to living up to my promises.” You said as you made your way to the door. I guess I'll see you back in town, yeah?” You tried to get rid of him, but it was too late. Klaus' paranoia had already sounded the alarm in his head and snapped the door closed with a push of his hand. 

"Who is with you?" His voice was dangerously low and calm, which only predicted the worst.

"No one. You know I don't do well in team scenarios." You waved him off. You had to get rid of him or this whole plan will go to hell. Plus your new friend in there would suffocate if kept fighting Mikael. 

Without being aware, you took a step back on the brittle flooring denting it enough to let the staff that was still leaning near the door fall from his resting place. It rolled on the angled flooring right towards Klaus’ feet. At first, he glanced at it, but at the second look, his eyes grew wide. He'd recognize the bearing crest anywhere. Within the next heartbeat, he dragged his eyes from the floor and you were granted a look that put hellfire to shame. 

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 Your heartbeat beat so loudly it seemed to want to escape your chest, to flee the oncoming slaughter. You were not one to run, to hide and cower in fear. But this was different. Klaus knew you brought his hateful father back to life and he was right outside a spelt door, ready to burn this place down if he had to. There was no reprieve. You knew that the beating of your heart was numbered, counting down to your own demise.

You could´ve made him bleed, unconscious or writhe in pain, but it would not hold him down forever. Nothing could. So you headed for the door which gave you the luxury of a few more minutes before he would skin you alive. Distance was all that mattered, even if that distance was a brittle door that if not for the magic seal would break in two by the way Klaus was hammering against it.  

“If you want to fight me, why are you running?” Klaus yelled and paraded on the porch like a lion in a cage that was ready to end his captors. You turned your back towards the rattling door, your attention now focused on Mikael who still had Kaleb in his grasp.

“Release me or I will end him!” Mikael said, his fingers digging into Kaleb´s neck, cutting off his air supply, ready to snap his neck like a twig if he had to. 

You balled your hand to a fist forcing Mikael to his knees to bear the pain of your magic “You think you're in any position to make demands?” You shared a look with a heavy breathing Kaleb and he nodded while grasping his neck, signalling he was fine, though hurt in his pride. 

“Enough games, Y/N!” You jumped at Klaus´s voice which invaded through the cracks in the walls. “Let's finish this. Is this not why you brought him for? I'm not afraid.” 

You opened the door with a flick of your free hand while Mikael was kept in place with the other. 

If you cannot fight them on your own, let them fight each other. 

There you stood between the devil and the deep blue sea, one decision worse than the next, one would bring hellfire while the other would leave you stranded on the bottom of the ocean. There was- without a doubt- no silver lining at the crossroads you arrived at. If you released Mikael and held up your end of the bargain Mikael would slay Klaus and with him his entire line. Your brothers would die. You would die sooner than expected and thousands of vampires would die by your hand. Your chance of getting Kol his life back would slip through your hands like sand in an hourglass.

However letting Klaus in to fight his father would either result in the same outcome or he'd kill Mikael and with it every bargaining chip - and if necessary threat- you had hidden in your hold. Either way, you were backed into a corner, and an animal in a corner always fought back.

You took a breath that was loaded with thought. The men in the room picked up on your hesitation and Klaus was the first that dared to speak. “Let him go. I can't wait to stand over his burning corpse. Only this time, I intend to enjoy it more. ” 

He knew what was on the line for you if you let them fight. He knew. And something in his face told of nothing but victory. So you let them go and chase each other to death. Hatred was useful in a fight and Klaus had more than anyone. He will win. He had to. 

Right? 

Kaleb watched from behind as you drew the curtain open to and surely enough there in the distance, beyond the scarce line of trees you saw them fight. They managed to disrupt each of their blows but even from afar you saw Mikael had the upper hand. He kicked Klaus onto the ground and knocked him flat on his back towering over him. 

"And you're going storm after them right about…" Kaleb counted on his wrist as if checking an imaginary clock.   Now." 

You shot him a glare with the doorknob already in your grasp. You exited with Kaleb only a few steps behind. You were already vamp speeding away when Kaleb collided with the boundary spell

"Of course." He sighed and took in the room he was now trapped in "I guess it's time to set this thing on fire."

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A/N: I know it has been....months. 2020 y´all. Shit´s crazy. In all seriousness, my life did a 360 this year - as it did with everyone- so please excuse my absolute snail speed with writing these days.But thank you to everyone that´s here right now at the end of yet another chapter. Please let me know if you have any thoughts!! 

Also I was proud of my little sneak sentence when she talks about Klaus being hopeless. Because you know, he´s without Hope. I rather liked that.

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Your feet dragged over what was left of the road in the cemetery that had been split open by centuries of floods and moving earth. The white paint of a few sparsely placed tombs was so bright you had to shield your eyes from the reflecting light. The trees swayed in the gentle breeze, diluting the light above into a shaded mess. There had never been an English word for the way the sun and wind interplay with each other to create dappled sunlight, but it decorated the entire tree-lined walkway. 

Leaving the shadows, you turned the corner towards the far end of the cemetery, skipping some of Lafayette´s prominent resting places, "Why the hell did I agree to this again?" 

“Because you're taken with my personality?” Kaleb was walking behind you a step or two, taking his sweet time as if he had no trouble wasting seconds to nothing. He had convinced you to not kill him immediately with a promise of revealing his intentions. You agreed, knowing that if he walked you into a trap you could still end him with a rub of your fingers.  It was a win-win, though a time consuming one so far. 

And time was running out. You hid a bloody nose from his eyes when he was unconscious - the second one that day - and it was only going to get worse from here on out.

“You think if I´d be taken with you, I would´ve handcuffed you to a radiator?” You scoffed, ignoring his attempt to lighten your mood completely. 

“I don´t know,” he shrugged, “you might be into that.” 

You rolled your eyes at his comment, progressing further. Passing another set of stones older than dirt, you adjusted the straps of the bag that carried your letters, fastening the metal handler around your shoulder.  It was comforting to know that they were with you again and that they only fell into the hands of the stranger next to you. After a few more steps, the sound of shoes crushing loose stones under his weight grew silent. 

"This is it," he said and nudged his head towards the building on your left.

You looked at the building towering next to you and it took a moment for you to scramble together where you are. Like a squared lighthouse, the second story building had glass windows on the second floor that wrapped around all sides. The first floor was used by the local witches as a place to congregate and meet with each other, while the second floor was full of plants, herbs and other ingredients for all kinds of spells.  You knew the place all too well. Besides plants, it currently housed a newly moved in leech that fed on people's weaknesses. One that was followed by her offspring and one - that despite the meaning of her name - was the worst of them all. 

Esther.  

"Of course you're working for her. I should've known.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, breathing out the weight of uncertainty from your lungs. Finally, the pieces revealing the stranger in front of you fell into place. Esther sends a distraction. Needless to say, you were not surprised. 

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you too are working with her?" He had a smug grin on his face as he replied as if he´d outfoxed your question. Smug Bastard. 

"Let me guess, she's the one that wanted my letters?”You asked, and he confirmed with a nod “Why?”

“To exploit your secrets, I'd imagine." He shrugged, then opened the door to the building and stepped aside “After you.” You brushed past him, brushing against his torso trying to fit into the outlandish small door frame. At least this time you were not wearing any hindering clothes as you did 100 years ago. You remembered that once a part of your coat ripped trying to enter this building and if you'd look closely you might even find particles of the clothing still littering the doorframe. 

Entering the room at the top of the building, you heard Kaleb breathe out in annoyance once he laid eyes on Finn. He- who was still inhabiting a local Voodoo master with the name of Vincent Griffith - stood at the table, ripping feathers from a dead crow that laid on it. 

“Ah, Finn. Just the person I didn't want to see." Kaleb looked at him with such disdain one would have deduced that there was some sort of sour history there. Still, Finn said nothing and blankly stared through his borrowed eyes. 

Looking at him, you wondered if the people underneath Esther´s and Finn's possession had any control left. Did they feel or see too? Or were they gone, totally locked away? You never wanted to find out first hand. 

“Kaleb, Y/N. I see you two have been acquainted.” You heard Esther speaking from an adjoined room before you saw her. But now she wasn´t the teenage witch she had been inhabiting when you met, it was a local shop owner and witch that had been selling witch items not far from Marcel's new place. But even in another body, she remained the most questioned pawn on the board.

 “I guess it was bound to happen since you sent him to steal from me. I don't appreciate you meddling in personal business. That wasn't part of the deal.”

“Did I, now?" She paused and shared a look of disapproval with Finn next to her "Very well. Since Kaleb revealed himself to you, you´ll join forces for the time being. Perhaps then I'll get what I seek." 

"Yeah no, I don't do teams." You shook your head and glanced at Kaleb next to you “No offence.”

“You'll do as you're told," Finn said. His jaw was clenched and he tipped the tip of his finger against the table. Ah, the scolding finger. Another thing he had in common with his brothers. 

"Oh, of course!” Kaleb scoffed, slicing his words in a sudden stern veer “Now Finn, the sycophant, speaks up! Are you gonna grovel at your mother's heels for eternity, or what?" 

Finn dragged his eyes from the table and ogled him down as if he would implode to dust under his gaze  “I advise you to stay your lane." 

You rolled your eyes at their ongoing dick-sword fight, wishing they´d either attack each other for a little entertainment or simply hold their tongue until you´re out of the way.

“We should move this along.” Esther sounded annoyed as she ordered Finn to the back room with a nod of her head. He tore himself away from the hostile conversation with reluctance, yet he complied. “Now,” Esther looked at you with stern expectation “What brings you here? I do hope it is not another empty promise.”

"I come bearing gifts." You said, stepping forward to the table in the middle of the room. You brushed dried up leaves from the roses that grew in the room from the table with your elbow. Kaleb's eyes went wide when he saw what you held in your hands. The white oak stake in all its silver veined glory. You watched Esther's eyebrows ripple with surprise. She wasn't expecting you to bring the white oak to her as you promised. 

She reached out to grasp it, but you brought the tip of the stake to the ceiling to withhold it from her   “I need some repayment first. A part of the spell, an ingredient from the list, something."

"You haven't fulfilled your part of the deal." She stated with certainty in her voice. 

“This is the start of it. You said you wanted to convince Klaus and Elijah to become human, right? But of course, they´re not as easy to persuade as you thought. If you can't convince them, pour salt into their wounds until they can't do anything but listen. You´re their mother. I´m sure you have secrets about them floating around in your head somewhere. Use them.”

“I am well aware of-” 

“I'm not finished. They're hiding something big. Elijah went off like the attack dog he is without me doing anything to cause this, which means that they're hiding something. They have to be. He's too suspicious of me to not want to keep something hidden away. I can find out what it is if you give me something first.” 

“You will give me the white oak stake and I will consider handing you a fraction of the spell” 

So that's how this is gonna go. You're baiting the wrong person here, Esther... 

You considered your options for a moment, going over the possible outcomes of any branch, but all led to disaster. All but one. That meant not playing her game anymore. It would never get to the point where she would keep up her end of the bargain.  But this endeavour trying to gain her sympathies had no use. It was time for Plan B.

"Fine. I'll be back with more soon” You met her observing gaze, looking at her without a glimmer of fear she so hoped to spot. You let her grasp the white oak stake and let it fall into her hands.

“It's not like I'm living on borrowed time or anything." You muttered as you turned to leave through the door you came into. 

What Esther will do with the white oak, that only her twisted mind would now. But at least it will give you time to come up with another plan. Including another obstacle that was your new companion who, if your senses were not completely obliterated, knew too much to not work against you. 

For now, however, getting out of the fire line is what was important, or you´d not stand to see this through. 

--

You stood on the corner, watching as Marcel paraded around in front of his new initiates. He was trying to rebuild his community, the one that Klaus took over with his scheming and intrigues. You never grasped why he thirsted for power as much as he did. Perhaps, you thought, he tried to eliminate the feelings of not possessing any power whatsoever when he was young. Or it was to outgrow Klaus' shadow that has been resting on him and this city. Even now exiled on the other side of the river, he tried to rebuild what Klaus took from him. 

Marcel, similar to New Orleans was a Phoenix rising from the ashes. Burnt down countless times, defeated and broken, yet resilient. You wondered how he kept going after all this time. Possibly he was just better at moving past issues than you were. Or he was nothing but more skilled at concealing it. 

“I'll be right back.” You informed Kaleb, as Marcel announced the end of his drafting process. Marcel spotted you walking towards him out the corner of his eye, smiled and outstretched his arms, waiting for your opinion of his recruits.

“So, what do you think?”

“I don´t know, a little too groupy for me, to be honest.” You shrugged, “But I'm not a team player so what do I know?” 

“Fair enough.” He nodded and let his eyes wander for a second before he spotted Kaleb watching your conversation like a hawk. “Who is this guy?”

“A friend.” You answered, hoping he wouldn´t pester you with questions. You had no time to waste. 

“Since when are you making friends? Especially ones with death stares.”

“Well, guys with death stares are kind of my brand.” You joked, but Marcel was nowhere near laughing. Your smile fell and you cleared your throat before you continued “Anyway, listen, do you still own that cabin out in Terrebonne? I could use a little retreat.”

Marcel cocked his eyebrow “Who do you have to hide from now? I know you´ve been going the extra mile to piss people off lately, but that has to be a new record.” 

“Nobody yet, but there will be soon. I'm just getting the hell out of dodge before that.” You felt bad for only visiting Marcel to get something from him, but you were not exactly running on a lot of time. You were sure he understood. 

 “Cabin´s still there, but  I had it warded against magic a while back, so no zapping in and out of the place. You can disable it if you want once you´re there.”

“Great. So a road trip it is.”  You were not particularly thrilled of hanging out in a confined space with someone you barely knew. But there was no use in complaining.

"In that case,” Marcel continued “you´ll probably want your ride back. It's down at the docks, with all your stuff in it."

“Shit I haven't thought about that piece of metal since-”  You paused, but there was no need to finish your sentence. Marcel understood.

“I assume you have a passcode for the doors? Or do you want me to blow the door up to get in?” 

"Uh, yeah. It´s…" He scratched the back of his head in avoidance. 

The second you knew why he was stalling, your face fell “Don't tell me the password is…password.”

“No, of course not.” 

“It´s password, isn't it? You dumbass.” 

“It's a car, not an atomic bomb! As if anyone's gonna steal that old thing.” 

You slapped his shoulder, shoving him back a step or two “How dare you. You can insult me, but never that car, alright? It's been through a lot.”

He smiled before raising his hands in defeat. “Alright, alright. Call me if you need backup with this one.” He nudged his head to Kaleb still standing where you left him.

“Thanks, but I never need backup.” 

----

You definitely needed backup. Even simply to hurl Kaleb out of the window for how annoying he was. Throughout the first few miles, he flipped radio channels with his magic, whistled along to every song that came on, or bumped his knees on the glove compartment repeatedly. He even asked about Marcel with such vigour, you barely managed to divert the topic. You knew many people had something against Marcel and his supernatural politics, you included, but Kaleb´s disapproval was on the upper spectrum. This only added to his questionable character.

You halted at a rest stop a few miles down the road after Kaleb insisted on getting road trip snacks. He had an extra pep in his step when he found the snack Aisle, you could see his excitement through the smudged storefront windows.You pulled out your phone when he disappeared into the back isles dialling a string of numbers you haven't thought about in the last decades. You tapped your foot throughout the beeping tone, anxiously waiting for the other person to pick up.

You heard a groggy moan before the scruffy voice of an old friend cut through. "Y/N ain't that a nice surprise.” Shank said, “It's been what 90 years?" 

"Yeah not exactly. We saw each other about a year ago in New York. Or have you forgotten?" 

Shank considered for a moment “Oh yeah something seems to brush through my drunken haze. I think. ”

Shank did not drink to forget like most, he drank to remember. He claimed that once he entered a state of non-sobriety, memories he had long forgotten would creep up. You always thought it was nice he even could forget anything at all. 

“Anyway,” Clearing your throat, you continued “I need you to do some dirty work.”

“Dirty work?” He sounded surprised yet elated by the prospect of digging up some dirt by either burying someone or by digging up secrets “What are we talking about? Murder, mayhem? Mayhem with some murder?”

“Not that kind of dirty. I need you to pull up all the records you can find for a guy called Kaleb. I don't have his last name, but I'll send you a picture.” You looked over your shoulder to check if Kaleb was already finished with getting snacks, but he was nowhere to be seen. 

“I see what I can do.” He agreed and you could hear him hammering on the keyboard through the phone “Is he a problem I need to know about?” 

“I don't know yet. I just want to make sure we're on the same side.” You explained, leaving out the details he had no use of knowing about “Thanks for doing this, by the way, I know I haven´t exactly been around.” 

“You can thank me by checking in with the boss.” 

Of course, he would bring her up. How could he not? He was so blindly loyal to her, it was a wonder that he was not killed yet.

“I don't know what Mae told you but I don't want to speak to her ever again.”

“Just call in, kid.” He seemed impatient in his wish, but, you had no intention of following through with it. That chapter was closed. 

“I'll think about stopping by instead.” You lied. You had no intention to go anywhere near the headquarters.

There was silence on the other end, then what sounded like a drink that was poured before Shank spoke once more "You can't. It's all gone." 

"What do you mean it's gone?”

“Haven't you heard? The Guerra Werewolf pack bombed the place. Did the same to the crescents on the Bayou. Whole building collapsed in broad daylight, almost everyone died. Some of them people were dumb as a ton of bricks, but they were family.”

“Shit. I didn't know.” 

"Nobody knows except Boss and I, and our high and mighty Mikaelson's of course."

"If there's anything I can do-”

“Nothing to be done.” He answered curtly, then returned to his task at hand. "I'll get you the info. Take care of yourself, kid.” And without another word, he hung up the phone. 

Entering the car, you leaned forwards after terminating the call, head pressing into the steering wheel. How have you not heard of the explosions? If you had, you would have made the Guerra werewolves suffer longer. Or at least dragged some of them back to the surviving members they could do with them whatever they liked. 

You pushed the thought away when Kaleb showed up at the register. You snapped a photo of Kaleb when he appeared at the register through the windshield, disguising your action as trying to find a signal. 

“Did you find it?” He asked through the opened passenger window before throwing the three bags worth of snacks behind him on the backseat.

“Find what?" You asked him, confused about what he meant.

“The signal?” He said when he opened the passenger door and hopped in   “I saw you from in there.” 

“Oh, yeah I got like one and a half bars at best.” You lied. before reaching out for the key stuck in the lock cylinder. Turning it with the foot on the clutch you started the car, ready to continue the journey.

------------

On a lonely stretch of road close to Morgan City, Kaleb had finally resorted to looking out of the window for the first time since leaving New Orleans. Silence at last. Ah, yes. Hair breezing in the wind, soft tunes that played on the radio and some nice peace and...

“So New York huh?”  Kaleb asked and you had to stop yourself from burying your face in the steering wheel. 

...Quiet, yeah not so much.

“Just because we're working together, doesn't mean we have to talk.” You blew him off, “Also, is there an encyclopedia of Y/N somewhere I don´t know about or how do you know where I was?”

He smiled and said "Touchy, are we?”

"I don't know why you're surprised. Do I look like the person that ́is offering free hugs or something?"

"Well, if you ́re offering, I wouldn't say no." He shrugged, flashing a pearly white smile that you figured was deadly to girls' hearts in the vicinity. 

“Fine.” You sighed and turned the radio volume down. “Ask away. What about New York?” You hoped he would be satisfied with a few questions answered.

“You, uh, what do they say.”He tipped the tip of his finger against his lips as he considered “Ah yes dropped off the map. Then years later you resurface in New York. Why that filthy city out of the whole world to choose from?” 

You stranded there, was the short answer. The real answer was much more complicated. “I did it for the Bagels.” You shrugged.

Kaleb almost choked on a corn chip as your words registered “The bagels?” He said through a cough or two. 

“The bagels.” You confirmed, "And I spent some time there back in the '50s, so I knew my way around."

You did not tell him that you just found yourself in New York one night after you tried aimlessly to find something to dull the pain. You did not tell him that you spend weeks feeding through the drunkards that wandered the streets at night. Or how you made the top spot on the wanted list on several covens or small circles of witches for stealing spellwork. You had nothing to lose, and nothing to fear from any of them. You had your goal, and you did not care about casualties. 

So you lied. He had no use hearing any of those things.

“And what about your family? Did they visit you there?” He asked further.

Why do you ask so many questions, Kaleb?

You dug your nails in the fabric of the steering wheel at the mention of your so-called family. You have not seen Stefan or Damon in years. But only thinking about them resurfaced memories of the last time you spoke to Stefan on a lonely winter night in New York, months after everything that happened.

You remembered how cold your hands were from the freezing storm that iced the city overnight. There was another blizzard predicted to roll through in the day to come, but people in New York had experienced harsher winter conditions than that. You watched them drink their mulled wine and cinnamon-spiked coffee from the bench you were sitting on. The snowed-over trees of Central Park were a perfect backdrop for the winter wonderland they were seeking. 

The ring tone felt like an endless repetition of empty promises, each more disappointing than the last. What if he had no desire to pick up the phone? Or perhaps he was in trouble? Maybe you should- But then his voice cut through the silence. He didn't say your name just answered with a standard phrase you´d greet strangers with. You told him who you were and before you could explain that you wanted to make amends, he said: “Whatever it is, I can´t help you.” Then he hung up and left you in the cold with nothing but the light of your phone that remained the sole evidence for your conversation. 

Clutching the steering wheel tighter, you shoved those memories back where they belonged; behind a door and forgotten as so many have been. 

“I don't have a family” You finally said. “What about you? Got any family left?” 

“They're all crazy as loons.” He shook his head “No, my family these days contains of one person. The only one that's never given up on me.”

Huh. So you were in the same boat after all. Interesting...

“Is that the reason you started working for Esther? To be reunited with them?” 

“That's the primary goal, yes." He confirmed and reached for another chip in the bag. “So, New York.” He repeated once again  “What did you do?”

“I'm sure you´ve heard the stories. Everyone has.” 

“I rather get information from the source. Can´t trust chatter these days.”

“I've done what someone like me does.” You answered with the hope he would have the sense to stop pestering you with questions. 

“Well, darling, there is nobody like you, so have to be a little more specific.” The familiarity of the word of endearment made you turn your head and you glanced at him, but he was already staring ahead. 

“Murdered, maimed, pissed people off, you know, the usual. Bad things happen when people like me grieve.” You replied, focusing on the road ahead once more. 

“All that to get your boyfriend back?” 

You slammed your foot on the breaks, halting the car with a loud screech. You leaned over with fury dwelling in your eyes  "Let's get one thing straight, you'll never bring him up. Ever. Matter of fact, why don't we keep our history to ourselves."

"I didn´t-" 

You didn't let him finish. Instead, you turned the radio volume up, ending the conversation in an instant. You felt his stare every now and then and he nervously fumbled with his left hand and outstretched his fingers only to retreat them a moment later, as if he was regretting reaching out.

The song on the radio swallowed the silence as it played on, thick with grief as a man sang on about how he couldn't go on without his special person by his side. How absolutely cliche it was for the song to play right at this moment when you were reminded of him.  

If Kol was here he would point his finger into the air and utter “See there's the universe again. Laughing at us, taunting us, but also telling us we ́re on the right path.”The memories of his smile and the way it would outshine your grimmest thoughts drifted over you, a cruel reminiscence of paradise lost but never forgotten. You relived flashes of memories every day, in the place you dared not to touch nor let go. As long as you remembered, nothing was lost. Kol still existed. You still existed.

The road ended in a mess of mud and overturned ground as the song played out. End of the road for now. And that meant digging through the outskirts of the swamp. On foot. At that point, you started thinking this was a bad idea.

-----------------------

Birds settle on a power line across the dirt road leading to the cabin. Most birds gathered as a group, some were scattered, but one was sitting next to them and tilted his head to observe them.  They scattered into the wind when the cabin door behind you fell in the lock. You felt his eyes on you as he stepped forward on the roofed deck. Thanks to an invisible spell Kaleb was unable to see Mikael parading around with a wooden lance on the space before the cabin. 

“I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry.”His voice sounded remorseful and quiet as he leaned against the brittle railing where chipped-away paint chips rained onto the dirt. 

“It's fine. Just forget about it.”You brushed him off. You could have told him that he found your weak point, and that was not the mention of Kol, but the fact that you had forgotten about him for a moment and then Kaleb brought him up. 

“It's nice here. If you ignore the blasting heat.”He was trying to establish some sort of small talk, but you were never one to care for it, and certainly not now.

“Yeah.” You glanced at him through the corners of your vision. 

Above, the birds screeched and tore through the silence, and you looked up to see them retreat into the trees. It was getting dark now, stars had started to crack through the sky, some lighter patches, others clusters of faint and bold light. You gazed at those bright friends of the moon and the midnight blue canvas stole every thought from your mind. The carousel of worries was forgotten for a moment. That was one of the advantages of life outside of the city where stars were put to death every night by the shine of streetlights and suffocated by manmade pollution. 

You turned your head again and caught Kaleb's gaze in the light the oil lamp that swayed in the breeze provided. You had to warn him. Warn him about the danger he put himself in being here with you. People around you either leave or end up six feet under. He at least deserved some cautious words. 

“Listen,” You turned to him “everything I plan goes bad for me usually. And this time it's foolish too, so if you want out-”

“Nonsense. I'm with you. And I don't change my mind.” He said as a matter of fact as if standing by words was such a common thing to do "Besides, what am I supposed to do, play lapdog with Finn?" He scoffed and shook his head, the image alone too ridiculous to fathom. 

The corners of your lips tugged into a smile, an expression which was mirrored on his face. But, when he looked at you next, his face went pale. Before you could ponder about what he saw, you felt the warm liquid run down your nose even before you smelt the copper that taste. 

“Shit, sorry.” You wiped the blood away with the back of your hand which stained the fine lines that covered your skin with the crimson remnant ”You´re squeezy around blood, huh?”

"No-” He shook his head, then paused “that is why you said you´re living on borrowed time?”

You were surprised he heard that “Yeah. I just need to undo some things I´ve done before I kick the bucket. A monster seeking absolution. What a cliche, right? Whoever, be it the universe or whatever, that´s conducting my story has never heard of an original plot, that's for sure.” 

“You're not a monster. “ He said.

“Isn't drinking blood enough cause to be one?”

“That describes what you are, but who you are isn't defined by the things you've done. Nobody can be summed up by the total of their wrongdoings. I don't believe that, and neither should you.” You opened your mouth to deny what he declared, then stopped yourself from saying it. Kaleb noted your silence as a sign to drop the topic “I might be capable to help you figure out what causes this. If you let me.” 

“I have nothing to lose, so why not?” You shrugged, knowing that time would run out eventually. And at this rate, it won't be too long. “But first there's something you should know. I'm not working alone here.”

“I hope not, or I'd be nothing but a figment of your imagination.” He grinned and nudged your shoulder “As flattering as that is, I´d rather be real. Being invisible will drive you mad.”

“You better see it for yourself then.” You raised your hand towards the space Mikael had been training while you spoke, uttering one simple word to reveal him “Invisique.”

You watched Kaleb's expression closely as it dawned on him who remained only a few feet away from where he was standing. 

“Mikael.” He swallowed and withdrew with a few steps backwards, until his back hit the rigid wooden wall. He was scared. Good. That meant he wasn't a fool.

“So you know who he is. Good, that spares me the history lesson.” 

“How is he here?” He sliced his words in a sudden stern veer, and kept his back flush with the wall, not moving an inch. 

“Let's get inside and I'll tell you what you need to know.” Opening the door you went inside first, holding the door open behind you. “Don´t worry, he won't come near us.” 

Kaleb tore his eyes from Mikael and secured the door with his hand. Before entering he looked over his shoulder, suddenly feeling like he was being watched. He scanned the tree lines and the road up ahead but there was nothing to be seen. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something tussle the leaves in the distance beyond Mikael's training ground. And he feared that the storm above and the vampire that hunts vampires was the least of his worries. 

And who or whatever was watching him, he thought, surely agreed.

-----

A/N: And we´re back with another one! This is a little bit of a slower one, but I hope you liked it! If there anything that stood out to you or anything that you liked or disliked, let me know!!  I would love to hear your thoughts.

Open Coffin Series Taglist: (message me if you want on or off this list!)

Your name: submit What is this?

The written word was everlasting. King to Beggar, Poets to Wallflowers, Monsters to Saints - they all had the opportunity to be immortalized, to be remembered once they´ve turned to bone or ash.

That, you always thought, was why your brother Stefan resorted to writing in his diary and why you chose to write letters to Kol when you were last here in 1914. To leave something behind in case your almost immortal life ended sooner than you thought. Now those letters served as a reminder of what might never be again. Yet, with uncertainty came the need to check on them in their hiding spot. 

So that's what you did. 

And it was as if you ́d stepped back in time. The cemetery was untouched in almost every way. Only the weathered stones and visible marked lines of the flooding after Katrina were reminders of how much time had actually passed. 

Another change that was eerily unnoticeable once you reached the older part of the cemetery, was the relocation of gravesites the City council had ordered. You thought it macabre to relocate someone's resting place as if they were nothing but a waste of space. 

What was once the Voodoo Queen ́s Laveau’s tomb was now only a monument in her honour. But what the tourist who resorted to smearing words with permanent marker on that very stone didn't know was the hidden compartment in the back. It was sealed with numerous spells, followed by a specific order of bricks you had to push in. 

Panic filled your senses when you saw the bricks already pushed in and the secret compartment opened wide. There was a dirt film on the stone surface and nothing but empty space in the compartment beneath all the dust. 

You reached in, hoping they just shifted back, but all you grasped was a layer of leaves that found their way inside.

The letters were gone. 

------------------------------------------

You could not wrap your head around who could have had access to your letters, and who would even care to steal them from you. They were not just letters, they were confessions of loneliness, frustrations, confessions of love. Whoever had them now, they knew your deepest emotions, some buried six feet under others worn on your sleeve - but all secret. 

Even now staring at the grimoire in front of you, surrounded by Kol's hideout, you couldn't think of anyone who knew about them. The only one you told was Kol back in Mystic Falls when you thought you were dying. But there was no time to dwell or be embarrassed by your secrets laid bare. 

You had work to do, and you had to focus. Unfortunately, focus was hard to come by when you had someone breathing down your neck. 

“How frustrating. A novice trying to interpret the work of a master.” Mikael paraded around, sighing dramatically. 

“Can you shut for one second?” You glared at him “I´m busy here.” 

You had summoned him back in New York with the promise of delivering Klaus on a silver platter. He was another part of your plan, one that was - by a longshot - the most dangerous. But you had to have an insurance and Mikael was the only one who knew Esther better than anyone else. If Esther would trick you into a wrong spelling, Mikael would be able to tell. 

“It's a simple de-linking spell,” You explained further “It's not that hard.”

"Simple? You're trying to erase the link between Klaus and every single vampire he's sired.

"No. All I care about is Marcel and my brothers. You kill Klaus? They die, too. I can fix that. I have Esther's grimoire, it's just a matter of time." 

“Perhaps I can help you solve the riddle.” He offered.

You flipped the book closed and looked at him “Do you think I´m stupid? You ́ll just trick me into a spell that will free you from my control.”

“You know, for somebody who despises Klaus so much, you certainly share his paranoia.”

You didn't like the comparison, but he was right. And it pissed you off. 

“And for somebody who wasted years hunting him, you don't know him at all. He won't just come here if I ask him to. I have to gain his trust, offer my help until he takes the bait. And that takes time.” 

He seemed satisfied with the answer. "The sooner you perform the spell, the sooner I'll be free to kill the bastard." 

"I'll bring Klaus to you when the time is right. It's not right yet. I have to save a few people first."

"I assume my son included. Let me ask you this, why have you resurrected me instead of him?"

"I tried, but I couldn't find him on the other side before it collapsed. By the time I had enough power and knowledge, it was too late.”  

Thinking back to the countless hours spent searching, consulting with witches on the other side and reading page after page of all grimoires - it hurt producing failure upon failure. 

Mikael went quiet when you pulled out your phone, sending a text to Klaus number. 

Y/N: Still stalling Esther. Let me know if you need help kicking some ass. 

Klaus: Meet me at the Compound in 30 minutes.  

"I'll be back soon.” You informed him” Don't go anywhere. Oh wait, you can't." 

----------------------------

“Okay so let me get this straight;" You said, looking between Elijah and Klaus. "A resurrected witch you knocked around with put some sort of spell on you that sucked up all your hybrid slash original power to juice up moonlight rings? And those moonlight rings were given to the Guirrerra wolf pack?"

"That about sums it up, I'd say." Klaus shrugged, leaning back on his office chair. 

"You and your bad taste in women, I swear." You shook your head.

"Well,” Elijah that leaned against the fireplace´s mantel said, “Niklaus is renowned for choosing strange bedfellows." He grinned and dragged a finger along the mantel´s surface, flipping the dust of his fingers in disgust. He probably had to arrange additional meetings with the maid.

"Yeah, you can say that again." You snorted. You could not count on one hand how many times a fling of his screwed him over. And not in the good way. 

Klaus rolled his eyes, "Can we please return to the task at hand?"

"Right" You sighed, hating to get back on track so soon "Moonlight rings. How many do you think are left?”

"We successfully retrieved all but a small group which deserted the fight," Elijah informed.

"So we ́re fighting cowards.” You concluded. ” Easy. Do you know where they're hiding?" 

Elijah walked up to the map placed on the table, resting his finger on "They remain in public, hoping we won't retaliate out in the open."

"Which we don't give a shit about right?"Elijah glanced at Klaus who returned a look of hesitation."Oh, come on, really? I expect Elijah to go according to the rulebook, but you too? "

"There are certain rules we must abide by in this city." Klaus returned. 

You could not believe what you heard. Klaus following rules was something entirely new "You ́ve lost a few steps over the years. But works for me either way. ́ll just do it myself."

"You alone against a pack of wolves?" Klaus dismissed as if he'd forgotten that you were able to handle a much greater threat than a few moon howlers. 

“A few wolves are nothing. You forget I have some new tricks up my sleeve. And I really really need to kill something.” You were ready to leave, ready to deal with those wolves out in the open. 

But Elijah had other plans.

“Before you go, a word please." Elijah looked at his little brother, asking him without words to leave the room. Klaus seemed surprised, perhaps even insulted that Elijah wanted him to go. 

"He can stay." You reassured him, much to their surprise, "Whatever you have to say to me he can hear. We ́re a team, right?" 

Elijah hesitated for a moment, but eventually gave in."Given your past grievances, I cannot help but question your Intentions regarding your alliance with us."

And there it was. The usual patronizing tone that made it obvious that he thought himself still superior and you lesser than. You could move mountains and he'd still question your intentions. In this case, it was not far fetched to assume the worst, but you thought at least he ́d give you some leeway. 

"If you think I want to kill him again, don't ́t worry.Been there, done that, got the shitty fridge magnet."

“Judging by the company you keep, I cannot help but doubt the truth of your words.”

“Not really my problem is it? I can only say what I want to say, I have no control how you perceive it.” You shrugged “And my company was once a part of your family, but we all know that writing them off is one of your specialities.” 

Klaus laughed out loud, amused by the way you dared to talk to his older brother.  

“It is your problem if you wish to stay in my good graces” Elijah replied, unfaced by your comment. 

“No offence, but I don't give two shakes of a rats ass if I ́m in your or anyone ́s good graces. I ́m here to take Esther down and bring Kol back, that's it. I don't expect you to like or agree with it.” 

Elijah raised his eyebrows and cringed at your nonchalance. He wasn´t used to someone speaking to him in that way. He clenched his jaw and reacher for the button on his suit jacket and forced it through the Buttonhole. He would always do that before he got into a fight, a physical or verbal one.

Klaus ́ amused smile fell and he chimed in before the situation escalated “Brother I think that's enough.” 

“I agree." You glared at Elijah before looking at Klaus, directing your next words to him “If you want to join me now's the time.”

"I'll meet you there," Klaus replied and you left the room, ready to fulfil the plan. 

“She seems well,” Klaus said once you were out of earshot. 

“On the contrary, brother. Heed my warning, she does not have our best interest at heart."

“You must not remind me of the danger she now bleeds out into the world. Which is precisely why I intend to give her my trust. For now.” Klaus stepped forward, ready to follow you but Eliah held him back once more.

“She cannot know our secret.”He shakes his head, demanding eye contact “Not while mother and Finn still breath air.”

"She won't. I'll see to that personally.” Klaus reassured before he too disappeared out of the room. 

----------------

You parted the crowds unintentionally heading to where the pack frequented. 

Looking at the people that passed you by, you wondered what stories they desperately needed to hide, and how they would react when those secrets were now known by someone hidden in shadows. You felt uneasy, knowing that there was someone out there who knew what was only intended to be read by the only person you trust. Now they were out there, ready to be used against you. 

Entering Rossiuss, you kept your eyes sharp, searching the crowd for the wolves. But besides a few afternoon drunkards, college kids and a group in the back there was no sign of your target yet. 

You settled for your booth in the back with a drink in your hand. As you passed by tables and people recognized you, they retreated to the front. Some chose the bar, others on the other side of the room, only in an attempt to be as far away from you as possible.  

Soon, the whispering began, as it always did.. Ah the whispers..how you wanted to silence them all. 

You sat there for a good hour pretending to read the book you bought, checking the time every few pages. There was absolutely no sign of the pack, nor of Klaus.

He was late, as always. He said he had to deal with something else first, but promised to be back for the action. But he wasn't. Who arrives to a good ol ́ slaughtering too late? A thousand-year-old vampire, with so much blood spilled he got bored of it, that's who.

It was unbelievable. What were you supposed to do until he decided to arrive? Sulk in the silence you despised until the wolves showed up? 

Pfft. Nobody valued punctuality anymore. 

The door rattled again and a few more stepped into the establishment. Among them was a tall guy that seemed to steal the attention immediately. He was towering over most with his height and radiated confidence with how tall he stood. Although his appearance seemed somewhat juvenile, his calm and unhurried nature made him look quite composed. In this city, and especially in the tense situation it has been in for months, he seemed out of place. He was too happy to stay alive here.  

You watched him observe the cowering crowd on the left side of the room, then your side, then back again before he was headed straight into your direction.  You pretended to read the lower lines on the page, hiding your face behind as much book as you could without looking like a complete idiot. What was he trying to prove talking to you?  

His heartbeat was erratic when he sat down, so much so, you saw his fingers rising and falling with his pulse. You observed him, glancing over the edges of the book. 

He had slightly curled brown hair and what looked like grey to blue eyes. You were unable to tell in the dimmed light. He had something familiar about him, but you could not put your finger on it. Perhaps you've crossed paths somewhere before. Or perhaps he had just a face you easily mistaken for someone else. 

After a few moments of silence, you decided to speak “You sure you want to sit here with me?” 

“It's the best seat in the house. And I like to piss people off.” He said, his British accent trickling through his speech. He looked over his shoulder, scoffing at the people that stared at him “Look at them, knickers twisted in a nod already.”

"What, are you some against the stream type of guy?"

"You have no idea." He smiled. It wasn't the kind of smile you ́d see every day, it was drunk with stories untold and probably on the defiant side "Or maybe you do." 

He watched you intently, as your eyes drifted on the table and the book still open in your hand. 

“I know that ghosts have wandered the earth. Be with me always--take any form--drive me mad.” 

“What?” You asked, and he lifted his head to nod to the book. “Oh. You ́re a fan of Wuthering Heights?”

“I ́m a witcher with remarkable taste.” He shrugged "In books and company." 

Ah, a witch. You knew there was something he was hiding. There was something in the way he held himself that bled familiar secrecy. You were an expert juggling several secrets at once, figuring out if someone else carried them was easy. 

“Brave of you to admit that.” You replied, “It's not really save for you here right now.”

Despite your warning, he did not look like he would leave any time soon, “What can I say, I ́m a thrill-seeker.” 

The door rattled once again, this time it fell into the lock with a loud banging. You looked over and recognized the Guerrera wolf pack immediately.

“Yeah well, it's about to get really thrilling here.” You said and the stranger next to you roamed your face with an intense stare you shifted uncomfortably on your seat. “You should probably leave if you want to keep your limbs attached to your body. They´re not fucking around.”

 “Nonsense.” He shook his head slightly. ”They ́re nothing but rabid dogs that need to be put down.”

You expected him to run, or to look at you as if you lost your mind, but instead, he hopped on board of the murder train.  Not that you were complaining. 

“I don't ́t know who you are, but you're definitely speaking my language now.” You said “What's it gonna be? You ́re up to cause some trouble?”  

“Well, it's a lovely day for a riot, isn't it?” He replied.

“A riot, huh? Not a bad idea.” 

He scooted closer and lowered his voice, “Do you see the group in the back? A rival werewolf pack with a score to settle.”

“You gotta love coincidences sometimes.”  

All you needed was a little push. A shoulder colliding, a hateful glare or - god forbid - an insult. That would be all it took to start a fight. They were so easily manipulated, it was almost comical.

You looked at the group on the other side of the room. They were heavily engaged in a conversation, and all but one listened eagerly. One girl was off to the side, quietly listening to groups meaningless chatter, while she stared holes into the other pack´s backsides.

The quiet ones were a breed of their own. They were the ones observing when the rest was talking their life away and that made them dangerous when they finally spoke. They saw what others overlooked. And that was always the perfect target to rile up. 

You gave her a little magic courage by whispering a spell into your hand before you let your breath carry it over to where she was sitting.

She slammed her glass on the table, the malty liquid spilling over the edges. Her companions looked at her briefly, before they returned to their conversation.

She walked over and knocked the drink out of one guy ́s hand with the force of her shoulder colliding with his much larger frame. He turned to her and recognized her face - his packs rivals - instantly.  

There was stillness first before the girl threw the first punch, then there was suddenly movement. Both sides rose from their seats and clashed together. Screams broke out. Furniture ripped. Bones broke. Blood was spilled.

It was magnificent chaos.

One of the participants on the sidelines decided to head for your table, dodging a broken off table leg that flew through the air. You shared an unimpressed look with the stranger next to you before he leaned back and gave you free rein to do what you wished to him.

With a look that bled concentration and the rubbing of your index finger with your thumb, you magically splintered every single bone in his body. The sound was drowned in the backgrounds happenings that included shattering glass, growling and howls of pain. He continued to scream bloody murder, and then, suddenly his face grew stoic as if made of stone, and he fell forwards, his jaw colliding with the edges of the table.

“Wrong table to squabble with, mate.” The stranger snickered. He leaned back, dodging a scrap of wood that came flying in his direction.

His amusement was short-lived, however, when he failed to sense a second, much larger piece of wood - a broken off table leg knocked him square into the back of his head, and he slumped forward, his head colliding with the table surface. 

"Shit." You whisper under your breath. You listened for his pulse, hoping he hadn't just broken his neck, but his heart was still drumming along just fine. 

Something peaked out of the bag hung over his shoulder, a written letter it seemed. On a second look, you couldn't believe what you saw. They were in your handwriting. 

You did not have the time to ponder about how the stranger got them, because someone rapidly approached from behind. You moved just in time, and the makeshift stake pierced through your shoulder instead. 

“Ah, the free stake for my drink. How nice.” You forced the guy off of you, and you gripped the stake and pulled out from the front. “Can I keep or do you want it back? You want it back, right?”

It was slick with your blood when you hurled it towards the attacker. It flew through the air and landed in his eye, piercing the iris like a bullseye.

“Damn my aim is good.” You congratulated yourself. The attacker, though now most likely blind on one eye, growled and you knew you´d finally had someone almost equal to fight against. “Come and get me.” 

-----------------------------------------------

You held the letters in your bloodstained hands when a set of heavy footsteps echoed through the now lifeless room. You looked over your shoulder to see Klaus standing there, taking in the chaos you created. 

One wolf was impaled on the wall, others stained the floor with blood that came out of their eyes and some had gaping holes in their chest where their hearts had been. 

“What is this?” He asked, counting the casualties to more than a dozen. Both supernatural and human.

“A party gone wrong. Or right, depends how you look at it.” You laughed and gave him a glance in the hopes he would reciprocate your joke, but he wasn't laughing. 

Instead, you saw how dishevelled he looked. His dark jacket had a gaping hole with what looked like dried blood on the edges. 

“Looks like I ́m not the only one that got staked.” You said and brushed your fingers over the same spot. 

His eyes flickered from your wound to his own, and judging by his face he discovered something close to an epiphany. "It appears so." 

You went back to counting the moonlight rings by throwing them in a make-shift bag out of some dead guys shirt. “But look, I made it look like a very deadly bar brawl, it's fine. Nobody saw anything supernatural. ” 

“Though you did achieve what we discussed, we also agreed to be discreet. This is far from it. ”

You could not believe what you heard. Klaus and discretion was like war without casualties - simply not possible. 

“Seriously, what happened to you? Where's the big bad wolf I know and loathe?"

“At lost has happened.” He replied quietly. You expected him to reply with usual sarcasm, but when you turned an utterly different version of the mighty Klaus laid before you. A broken man, torn apart by the love and loss of his child. Once fueled by rage, he now ran on guilt and grief. 

You felt pity for him, you did, but this was still Klaus. But however morbid and unfair it might have sounded, it could have happened to someone less deserving of such grievances. 

"Losing the only person who'll never see you as the monster you truly are hurts, doesn't it?" You finally said, “Especially if you're to blame.”

His face was hard, but regret slipped past his stoicism, and you knew he understood that what just slipped past your lips was directed mostly at yourself, rather than him. 

“This one is still alive.” Klaus diverted the topic to the stranger that was still passed out on your table. 

"Leave him."

“Friend of yours?" He asked with a slight smirk that tugged on the corners of his mouth. 

“I don't know yet.” You replied, before tying a knot in the shirt “Catch.” 

You threw the bag to him, and the silver rings clacked together when Klaus balled his fist around them.

“Listen, I have to report back to Esther soon, and you ́ll hear things that ́ll probably piss you off. Just remember that I am not working against you. You'd be the first to know if I did."

"Well, you do look quite trustworthy kidnapping that lad. How could I not trust you with the person I loathe most?"  

“I guess you have to put your paranoia aside and trust me for once.” 

The irony of what you just said, almost made you laugh. If Klaus knew you had the person he feared most trapped only a few miles away. If it ever came to him knowing about your involvement in reviving Mikael, you ́d be on a real warpath with Klaus. Not the cat and mouse game you used to play, a real war where your odds less than optimistic.

---------------

No passport, no driver ́s licence, no name - you found nothing to identify the stranger you dragged through the French Quarter. How did a Noname like him get to your letters? How could he have possibly known? If he knew about that hiding spot, what else 

All these questions ran through your head, staring at the French Quarter streets below you. You chose this building because it was small, unconscious and out of the way. It had somehow managed to elbow it ́s way between a block of apartments and was longer than it was wide and the rooms were stacked on top of one another like a house of cards.

Ambulance sirens rang through the narrowed streets, heading to Roussous. Finally, someone found them. You always found it amusing that, after a massacre or any life-ending violence they chose to send ambulances instead of coroners as if someone was still needing it. They lived amongst creatures that were death walking on two feet, and even then they chose to remain hopeful, that somehow they too were able to cheat death. 

Unwavering hope ....yeah no, that ship had sailed. 

Your ears picked up stirring and a pained groan from inside, and you went inside. He was sitting up on the couch in the middle of the room, looking around to orientate himself. You thought about chaining him to the radiator, but it would have been overkill. 

“Kinky.” Noname chuckled, inspecting the witch shackles you put on him when he was unconscious “Under different circumstances, I ́d say this is bound to be fun. This isn't quite it.”

“If you ́re thinking about strangling me with those chains, forget about it. You wouldn't succeed.”

“Oh, I know I wouldn't. You ́re Y/N after all.” He said, and grinned when he saw the surprise flashing over your face “Though I have to say, you ́re way prettier in person.” 

Was this guy serious? 

“So you know who I am.” You said, glancing over his flirtatious attempt to gain your sympathy. 

“Well, you're practically famous around here.”He shrugged “ I ́m a lot like you, you know? Don't really believe in authority. We ́re.. kindred souls.”

You let out a huff. This guy was killing you with his endless chatter.

“Listen, there's only one thing I need to know before I decide what to do with you.” You picked up the letters on the table in front of him “Who the fuck are you, and how did you get these?” 

“Well, that's a rather long story. But let's start at the beginning.” He said and stretched out his hand as far as he could, “My name is Kaleb.”

-------

A/N: And we´re back with another one ^^ If you´re still reading this when I post it, you´re probably used to me being slow as hell, so sorry once again. Uni, work and life just get in the way of my writing even more than it has months ago. So feel free to wait until more chapters of this are done, I won´t mind. 

Anyway, what did you think of this one? Did you like it? Was there anything that stood out to you? Anything that you liked or disliked? Whatever it is, let me know! I would love to hear your thoughts.

Open Coffin Series Taglist: (message me if you want on or off this list!)

Your name: submit What is this?

You were surrounded by pulsating air. Alive and undead hearts sinking to the pace of the drums. There was dooming danger in the air in the packed bar turned nightclub, as hunters moved amongst their prey. It would be only a matter of time before the hunters overpowered them.  

On cue, the lights dimmed to a sombre shade of red and the hunters ceased their movements. You identified them through the rousing crowd, eyes veined and fangs bared - ready for attack.

Three.

Two.

One.

Midnight. Time to feed.

Your fangs punctured the delicate skin of the neck closest and the addicting crimson blood drained into your mouth. The horrid screams from the human in your grip were drowned out by the sheer pleasure of holding a life in your hands.

The brink was here. Was there hope for your prey yet?

You stepped over it, without blinking, without remorse. One less tortured soul to roam the earth. If you came to think of it, you did them a favor.

With evil on the mind and blood spatters in the air, you retreated the battlefield concealed as a dancefloor. You headed to the bar, unbothered to swipe your bloody mouth. There was no use in pretending anymore, to hide behind a mask. The world had seen what wretched thing you were, and you were unbothered by it. Let them see, let them fear. It kept them away.

Ordering a bourbon with the wave of your hand, you sat down on the remote end, further from the thumping music.

“Rough night?” The bartender tried to joke with you.

“Rough life.” That answer may have been trite, but hell if it wasn't ́t the truth. And you didn't need that dimwit behind the bar to remind you of that. “Just do your job and pour the liquor. I ́m not looking for a shrink.”

He backed off, hands raised in defence. The relief of silence was short-lived though as two loudly talking vampires joined next to you, their mouth tinted from their feast.  

“You heard about what's happening in New Orleans?” One of the vampires said to the other.

This Bar, in the heart of Hell´s Kitchen, was where supernatural gossip lived. Everybody talked and gossiped about friends and enemies alike, but none had anything to say that was of particular interest to you.

You heard about the other side collapsing, the recent change in leadership in New Orleans, even talk of Klaus ́ mystical daughter that died in a war between werewolves and the Mikaelsons. And you heard about Damon ́s death. You had to hear it out of someone else's mouth, instead of Stefan ́s. You were not even invited to his funeral, nobody tried to even contact you. Not once. So much for the unbreakable bond of family everyone kept going on about. All bullshit.

So instead of wallowing in grief, you preoccupied yourself with mercenary-like jobs in exchange for currency, which in your case, was spells and spellbooks to hone your craft. You did not have any other purpose, so you made your own. To harness enough knowledge to never watch someone perish in front of your eye ever again. Or to destroy anyone standing in your path.

“Apparently,” The vampire continued “there's some shit going down. Something about a witch that ́s back from the dead who's jumping into people's bodies. Can you imagine?”

“I ́m not surprised, that place gives me the creeps, man.”

“Yeah, but jumping into someone's body? That´s fucking weird.”

“Sounds like a job for those hunter brothers on tv. They ́d clean that shit up good.”

“Hell yeah, man!”

You had no desire to listen after that, consumed by new opportunity. There was only one witch that could´ve risen from the dead causing that much trouble. Esther. It had to be her.

How was she back? The other side collapsed not 4 months ago and with it every spirit in there. Then, a thought crossed your mind that had you spiralling; If Esther crawled out of hell, could he be back too? Was there a chance he made it out alongside her?

All hope deafened when whispers came from men next to you that were oh so chipper a second ago. The taller one with jet-black hair looked over his shoulder and saw you sitting there and promptly turned his head with fear in his eyes.

You were used to it. People here knew what you were. A new species of hybrid. A freak. They crossed the streets when you came along, children ran away and hid behind their parents. They always feared what they did not know, what they were not able to comprehend.

The hushed whispers continued for another minute before you intervened.

“You got something to say to my face?”

“Nah, nothing.” The shorter ashen blond guy shook his head.

You wanted to leave it at that, to let them go with a warning not to talk in whispered hushes. But something in their dismissal made you angry. So as it was and as it has been for the last 2 years, and unexpected visitor knocked on the door that is your mind. And you welcomed old friend Rage with open arms.

You were not burdened by simple anger anymore. Something changed and transformed anger into rage and loneliness into despair. It was nothing like the usual vampire heightened feelings, it was a thousand times worse. The intensity, the strong, yet sometimes short, but intense feeling of emotions was something else entirely.

When anger would hit you wanted to destroy, cry and scream. You wanted to let out your wickedest thoughts, and you wanted the world to feel your pain.

There was too much energy flowing inside your bones to contain it so you let it out and you did not care who saw you like that.

This was no different.

You chanted into your closed palm and blew it over with a single breath of air. Within an instant, ashen veins burned their skin and invisible hands strangled the air out of their lungs. They tried to scream, tried to beg for their lives, but you let them disintegrate.

Served them right.

The room fell silent, nothing but gasps and retreating footsteps.

“Anyone else?” You addressed the room, but were met with instant silence “Didn't think so.”

You leaned back on the chair, and within another sip of bourbon, a plan of action for dealing with Esther and New Orleans edged itself into your mind. You smiled at the sheer craziness of it all. It was pure suicidal lunacy. It dug up old enemies, made new ones and, upon failure, leave the city in ruins.

Fuck it, you had nothing to lose descending into the crescent.

Next stop; New Orleans.

--------

Neon signs burned in the dawning morning sky, illuminating the streets like a beacon of hope and salvation for the tempted souls wandering in them. The Crescent City was the sort of city where easy living during the day occurred. Tourists wandered the streets, thinking this was where they wanted to get lost in, where they would let themselves go. 

But New Orleans had a darkness that lingered in the shadows. Come nightfall, innocent souls always ended up pulled into the dark abyss by wretched souls that littered the paved streets with their bloodshed.

Unlike their glow, the memories attached to this place that was long forced behind closed doors burned like a forest fire. Unrelenting, yet familiar, like coming home after being away on vacation: Adventures lost, but the familiarity and comfort greater than any hardships that linger.

Almost any at least. 

But his presence lingered around every corner, in every face that passed and in every nook and cranny in this city. It bled his and his family name, even more so since Klaus reclaimed the city's throne. 

You stood where the first stone was placed by the returned King himself decades ago, a fitting starting point you found. From there you descended on your enemies tails. 

“Don't you know that the devil walks among us?”An elderly man, sitting beneath a shadowed street light shouted as you approached from across the street.

“Oh, believe me, I know. I ́ve met him.” You said and dropped a 100 dollar bill in his turned-over hat “ Problem is, there ́s not only one of them. This is New Orleans, we all have horns.” 

You pitied the man, yet you wished you had a belief as strong as his. Something to rage against, to pretend to fight for. Something that burned so deep I inside your soul you had to shout it off of rooftops, smear it down on a piece of paper or whisper into a trusted ear. 

Perhaps you would find it here. New Orleans had tricks up its sleep it left every city in its shadow. And with the current faction war brewing, things were bound to reach a tipping point. 

And no one knew war more than your destination for the night.

The Mikaelson Compound.  

----------------

Timing had no place in the French Quarter. There was no good time for confrontation, no time for rest and certainly no time to waltz into a stronghold unannounced. 

You were aware of that, painfully so, but when timing had no place then neither had fear. He would smell it out, twist it and spit it back on your face. 

Stepping into the spacious courtyard felt like being dragged between the past and future. It was as if laid with a photograph of what lies before you today with another, shine-through one of the past. If the walls could talk they had tales to tell of manoeuvres schemed,  and allies lost, but most of all, they would have told you to run away and never return. 

But this was another point of your plan and was clear it would be the easiest to execute but hardest to stomach. Convincing the self-proclaimed king to join your side.

You followed the sound of paintbrushes stroking on canvas. Ascending the stairs, your feet remembered to navigate the labyrinth and you quickly found your way to his room. You expected to be greeted with a scowl or even a tinge of surprise, instead, you were met with a paintbrush rushing in your direction. Within a blink of an eye and a flick of your wrist, the paintbrush disintegrated to ash. 

“If your intent was the element of surprise, you lost it.”Klaus said, and you could detect the smile through his voice before you saw it “Y/N. I knew we would meet again.”

“Trust me, I tried to avoid it longer. But I can't exactly say no to a bloodbath and I heard this one is gonna be a big mess, so here I am,” You said spectating the strewn about paintings that leaned against the wall. Most where muted colors, full of sorrow. “Damn these are depressing. And I thought your grey period in the '30s was the worst."

“Have you come with a reason or simply to critique my art?”

“Both I guess.” You shrug your shoulders,  “But, let's cut to the chase. Your mother sent me.” His demeanour changed radically, like a sail changing in an oncoming storm “You´ve met her as that Cassie girl, right?”

“You dare come into my home as one of her disciples?” He sounded appalled, disappointed even. His muscle tensed, ready for attack. 

But you knew him. You knew he'd slice first and ask questions later. 

“If you think about attacking me, don't even try. I just have to rub these two fingers together and you´d be immobilized.” 

"I see you accommodated to your new powers. Outright hypocritical if I might add." 

“Can we just have a civilized conversation, please? ”

He raised his eyebrow “Civilized?You?” 

“Look who´s talking.” 

“Let me guess; Esther sought you out to persuade me to accept her foolish deal? To forsake this vessel and take on a new, human body?.”

"That's the plan. Thing is, I don't really follow orders, especially not from her. That is why I ́m here." 

He took the time to study your features, to find some sort of indication of truth or deception. But you looked at him, unwavering.

“Why would you tell me this? To garner my trust? My appreciation, perhaps?” 

“You trust me as much as I trust you, so no. I want to offer you a deal of my own. I'll tell you what she's up to, and you don't annihilate me for working with her.  As easy as that.”

“You ought to play double agent?” He dismissed as if he thought it impossible “How do I make certain you did not promise her the same in exchange for, well, let me guess, everlasting power? A unicorn perhaps?”

“You don't. Then again, you ́re a man of words and not of deeds yourself. How do I know you won't kill me anyway?”  

“What did she offer you?” He repeated, disregarding your question. 

"Kol back from the dead.”  It was the first time you spoke his name in years and it felt like dragging it through dirt with Klaus in the room. It felt wrong, but you continued nevertheless “Now I know what you ́re thinking. Poor girl can ́t live without her love...how tragically cliché. I can, physically, live without him. I can, but I don't want to. He deserves better” You informed, prepared for the onslaught of judgment 

Klaus remained unconvinced still, you saw it on his face. 

“There is one slight inconvenience.” He said, “My wretched mother could easily manipulate your desire to resurrect my brother and operate against you. ”

“I know how to deal with a wretched parent, trust me.”

Wretched was never a strong enough word to accurately describe your father. Violent when drunk, absent when sober and spirit destroying all around. 

“A drunkard is hardly any comparison to the most powerful and deceitful witch the world has ever known.”

“But the desire to send them screaming back to hell is.”  

That made him finally pause and you could swear a smile twitched across his lips. Good. That meant he was warming up. As much as someone like Klaus could. 

 “Look, if you don't want my help, fine. But you know as much as I do that taking down your enemy from the inside requires someone to be a traitor to the cause. You need me.” 

“Why you? I have an army at my disposal, why would I possibly require your help?” 

“I have nothing left to lose. That makes me the dangerous one, and as you know dangerous wins wars.”

-----------------------

Klaus agreed to your deal within your next glass of bourbon at Roussous´s. He stated his concerns in a calm manner, but not without adding life-threatening menaces, disguised in Shakespearean platitudes. Typical Klaus behavior. In a way, you were glad he hadn't changed. It only meant you knew what you were dealing with. 

Esther, on the other hand, was much more unpredictable. When you negotiated your involvement in her operation before involving Klaus, she promised her assistance and the spell to resurrect Kol from the dead. She told you exactly what you wanted to hear, and you could not help but doubt her intentions. But alas, she was the lesser of two evils. 

But at last, one beacon of hope, that had been standing its ground long before Esther crawled out of Hell,  survived the nuisance of time; Roussous

The establishment was in similar condition as it has been since you last saw it. The flooring had the same scratches of battles waged, crumbles in the walls of bodies slammed into and the same stench of old bourbon that soaked to wood to its core.  

There was a booth in the back right in the middle, anchoring both rows on each wall that separated the units. The vantage point from the seats where perfect,  the bar was in sight as well as the exit and the employee side entrance - no matter where you looked, a surprise visit was impossible without being seen. 

It was your and Kol ́s booth back in the day. You declared it so was after Kol invited you dug in there during a sudden rainfall, only days after he invited you to join his families festivities, the night where you chased all the stars in the sky. Before that night, you hid away from prying eyes, mostly Klaus´, to prevent suspicion. 

Klaus had almost caught Kol once as he sneaked out to meet you. Of course, Kol was crafty and had a feeling that his control freak of a brother would follow him eventually. He led him in a different direction when he spotted him and made sure he was truly gone before heading off to find you, here at Roussos.  

You slid into the seat after you had ordered Bourbon at the front and the green leather squeaked with your weight. Once situated, you looked at the wooden pillar behind you, expecting carved initials in them. You and Kol's carved initials. But the dark painted wood did not match. They replaced it.

You brushed your fingers over where your and Kol ́s initials where carved previously, silently chanting a spell you retrieved from a skilled witch in India months ago. You smiled as the initials reappear in the dark wood. Sometimes the past was not meant to be erased, and you were not ready to let them erase him so easily. Not the city folk nor his family, no one. 

Loud buzzing that came from your phone distracted you on your tangent into the past. You looked at the display. Esther. 

“I was just on my way.”  You lied as you picked up her call  “He took the deal just as I thought he would. I fed him some bullshit about taking down the enemy from the inside and he took the bait. “

“Good work. What about the stake?” Esther said. 

She had asked about the white oak on your first meeting and set it as a condition to your mutual agreement. You told her that you had lost the white oak years ago, probably at the hands of Klaus.

“I can ́t exactly snoop around with him there.”

“I want that stake.” She repeated impatiently “No matter what you have to do to get it.”

“You ́ll get it, I promise.” 

“I am not interested in promises, I expect results.” She said and hung up the phone without waiting for an answer. 

“Bitch.”

---------

It was quiet on the other side of the river.  Dangling your feet over the ledge of the tallest building on this side of the river, you tried to remember when you last were surrounded by near quiet Sensory overload around the clock had been your salvation over the last few years, and this silence outright scared you. 

“You're not gonna jump, are you?” A familiar voice cut through the stillness and pulled your knees to your chest to get to your feet. 

“Don't know yet. It's not like it would kill me.”You shrugged.

He moved closer and pulled in for a hug.

“Woah what do you think you're doing?” You held both your hands up and backed away. Marcel saw through your playful rejection immediately and only rolled his eyes “Just because we drank ourselves into oblivion one time doesn't mean I like you. “

“We drank ourselves to oblivion every day for a week straight.” He corrected “I think I deserve a hug. You know, as your friend.”

Marcel stumbled into the bar in New York 2 years ago all teary-eyed and pissed off at the world. And though you did not have the best history, he approached you and poured drink after drink in silence until you were both drunk enough to let the pretences fall. Then you talked. And talked. 

He explained why had escaped New Orleans and sought the comfort of the Big Apple. He was broken-hearted over the loss of Davina, a courageous girl that was like a daughter to him. He swore to protect from a ritual the local witches called the Harvest. She was supposed to be resurrected, but the ritual failed. 

You were both miserable out of different circumstances. But death remained death no matter what kind of love caused such suffering. Talking until the sun came up, sharing the same, overwhelming feelings of grief and the fact you were no strangers to war or the Mikaelsons, lead to you bonding in a way you'd never expect. You would even go as far as to consider Marcel your friend. 

“It's good to see you again.” He said as he let go.

“You too.”  

That was what you liked about Marcel, he was open about what he was feeling in the exact moment. Everyone knew if they were on his good or bad side, he did not leave anyone guessing. It was admirable, if not foolish in a city like New Orleans. 

“What are you doing here? Last time I asked you if you'd ever come back here, you almost burned me alive.”

“Well, things change.” 

“Oh great, I know that look. What are you up to now?”

You stared at the skyline, on the moving water underneath it. You thought about how the ground would shake, how the sky-high buildings would fall to crumbles and how you could level the entire city if you willed it.

“Just the most insane, plan I ́ve ever come up with. I'm playing the entire board. From top to bottom, left to right and it ́ll probably cost me my life. So the usual craziness that is, well, me. No biggie.”

“No biggie if you're dead?” 

“We all die one way or another and technically we´re already did." You paused, bracing yourself to what you had to say next "Besides, it looks like I don't have much time to spare anyway, because-

He saw the near-black blood drop from your nose before you even registered it. He had to take a second look

“Because you're bleeding randomly?”

“Yeah, It's been happening a lot recently. That, and weird bruises that appear as if I ́m in a fight only to heal instantly. Invisible hands that strangle me, memories that are not my own, indescribable rage...the list goes on.”

This drainage of power started two months ago. It came and went in waves as a roll of feverish symptoms and with it came unbearable rage and paranoia. It was severer on a full moon, so it had to be tied to its phases. That much you knew, but that was it.  You consulted grimoire after grimoire and witch after with - no answers. 

“So, I think I'm pretty much doomed already.” You breathed out into the wind “What ́s a little more death gonna do to me?”

“Don't get sentimental on me now. You used to hate me, remember? "

I didn't hate you. Just your boyfriend."  So, that plan of yours. Say the word and I ́ll help you however I can.”

“Remember you said that. You'll wish you hadn't. Let's meet at your place tomorrow. I have to make one more stop on my reunion tour.” 

“You want some company?”

“ I´ll be fine.” If you could not walk alone in New Orleans at night, you might as well have a neon sign around your neck blinking the word soft repeatedly and lie down for a beating. 

"You sure?" He asked again. There was reals concern in his voice now, compared to the level headed and calm manner, it sounded outright strange. 

"This is only the beginning." You said, stepping on the ledge "If I can't handle some espionage, how am I supposed to handle the rest?" With the wind breezing you let yourself fall. 

Marcel smiled and shook his head as the looked over the ledge and saw you speeding away. He knew as much as you did, that descending into the Crescent City, to undermine the war and come out on the other side alive, was near impossible. But he learned that impossible was not in your vocabulary anymore. The War lines have been drawn, and he knows you'd jump between them if you had to. 

Let the games begin..

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A/N: And with that, we´re back!!! I hope you liked this first chapter! I wrote most of this back when my fur baby of 13 years passed away, so if it feels detached or anything that might be why. But I thought it would reflect the Sisters situation quite well so I didn´t throw it in the garbage like I wanted to.

Anyway, I would love to hear what you think. Just remember that this is the “housecleaning” chapter. We will find out what the nature of the Readers weird suction of power is, on what side she´s actually on, and what familiar faces will reappear in NOLA. 

All in good time my friends. This is only the beginning...;)

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