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thebennettdiaries · 8 years ago

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a thousand souls crossed over (15/?)

Premise: Bonnie is finally settling into life as the bridge between the living and the dead. That is until Kol Mikaelson shows up and refuses to leave until she does him a favor: give a message to his family in New Orleans. Of course, that is just the beginning. Set in Season 5 with shades of AU, crossover with The Originals.

Characters: Bonnie Bennett, Elijah Mikaelson, Klaus Mikaelson, Sophie Deveraux, Enid Lacour, Cami O’Connell, and a few others.

Author’s Note: Thank you, thank you, thank you for such a warm welcome back to this story. It has really made me smile (not to mention get super excited about this little tale of mine once more). I hope that this chapter might answer some of those lingering questions from the one before. Enjoy!

A table of contents and cast list can be found here

Part Fifteen

Every part of her feels heavy.

It is like she is being pulled down towards the center of the earth and she is helpless to stop it.

Bonnie manages to open her eyes. There are the blurred lines of figure looming over her. She hears a voice, knows there are actual words but she can’t bring herself to hold on long enough to figure them out.

She lets herself fall instead.

The second time she opens her eyes she realizes she is on a bed. It feels soft beneath her, a perfect contrast to the harsh brightness of the ceiling. She turns her head to avoid being blinded. As she does so, Bonnie hears that voice again. Feminine, not entirely unfamiliar.

“Rest.”

She doesn’t bother to argue. She doesn’t have it in her.

As she drifts off, she realizes there is the distinct smell of jasmine in the air. Despite everything, she can’t help but smile.

She is able to hold on longer the third time she comes to.

Bonnie realizes it is Enid that holds vigil by her bedside. Seeing the witch is the equivalent to receiving an electric jolt. Her whole body jerks automatically and she tries to say something. Only there are far too many somethings trying to work their way out of her and she ends up jumbling it all together in a string of nonsense.

Enid stands over her, coming into focus as she moves. She has a wet cloth in her hand. When she brings it Bonnie’s forehead a combination of sage and rosemary nearly overpowers her. Bonnie pushes back, trying to melt her body into the mattress to get away from it. Enid clucks her tongue. “It’ll do you good.”

Still, Bonnie loathes submitting to the warm cloth against her skin. She realizes all her senses have gone into overdrive; she is far too sensitive to everything. She moans, low in her throat at first and then the sound pushes out just as she blindly swings her arm. Enid must be prepared (or Bonnie’s aim is truly off). The cloth runs the length of her cheek and then she sighs, relaxing her muscles once more.

“Told you,” Enid says, and has the good humor to sound smug despite everything.

“How is she?”

Bonnie blinks, for the first time realizing there is another in the room. Her head lolls to the other side. There are those blurred lines again, only now they come together to form Elijah. He stands in the window and she finds the light that pours in behind him too much. She shuts her eyes once more. This time, however, she holds onto her consciousness.

“As best as can be expected considering what trampled out of her,” Enid snips as if Elijah’s question is ridiculous in the first place.

Bonnie giggles. Or tries to. There is no sound. Instead her body just shakes and Enid is back again, bathing her in warm water and herbs. She finds herself stuck between hating how infantile she feels and enjoying how the concoction seems to soothe whatever riot is going on inside of her.

“I mean --- is she aware of what is going on?” Elijah sounds businesslike. Bonnie wants to stick her tongue out at him.

“Honey, I don’t even think she is aware of her own name,” Enid shoots back. “Trust me, we all want to get to the bottom of this but you’d do well to remember she is just as much a victim as the rest.”

As she is pulled peacefully back towards sleep, Bonnie decides Enid can do whatever the hell she wants.

She dreams (or at least she thinks she dreams). Kol is standing next to his brother now, both watching her as she twists in the bed. She blinks up at Kol, noting the grave look on her face. Then a thought hits her.

What if…

“Can you see him, Elijah?” She asks. “Can you see Kol?”

Kol frowns and the action is repeated Elijah. Bonnie realizes for the first time how much they look like one another.

“No, Bonnie, I cannot,” Elijah answers and he doesn’t sound businesslike now. He sounds broken.

She dreams that Kol sits on the edge of her bed and tells her he needs her to pull out of this.

At least she thinks it is a dream.

It is normal to smell jasmine in dreams, right?

Bonnie finally remembers everything in the proper order when she wakes. As the pieces click together with such an air of finality, she notes that the light no longer seems as bright. She takes a deep breath as a new demon grips her: guilt.

She has failed Davina.

Enid appears once more and for the first time they make proper eye contact. “You’re still a little green so no grand ideas. Got it?”

Bonnie remembers this is the witch that flippantly told Elijah Mikaelson to cool his heels. She is not about to argue with her. She doesn’t have it in her anyway. “Davina…”

Enid’s head bows.

She doesn’t need to ask. The gesture is enough. “I promised her.”

“You did,” Enid agreed. “And you did everything you could to keep your promise. I have only known you inside of a week and I can already tell you’re big on self-flagellation. I also know it’d be a waste of my breath to try and argue you out of it.” She heaves a sigh and sinks down on the edge of the bed. “Of course, nothing about this is simple. It’s not as easy as saying you broke your promise. Your stubborn head just needs to wrap itself around that fact.”

Bonnie notes for the first time how tired Enid looks. She has no idea how long she has been playing nursemaid. “What time is it?”

Enid furrows her brows together as if she hasn’t considered the time in a while. “Early evening,” she says but a shrug follows her answer. “You’ve been dancing around waking up properly for the better part of a day now.”

It should be longer. What happened in that cemetery feels like it is years in the past. Her body aches with the same kind of phantom pain that comes with recalling an old injury but everything seems so distant. Yet she remembers everything leading up to her attack (she can call it that right?) with crystal clear precision.

Davina clinging to Marcel. Sophie cutting Davina’s throat. Davina standing before her and telling her she is beautiful --- then things fall apart. Kol appears. Elijah rallies the troops to find the rogue witch. That woman with hate in her eyes thanks her. Then there are so many of them. Despite wanting to, Bonnie can’t see faces. Only hands.

(so many hands)

“What did it look like?” She wonders aloud. She realizes, rather ruefully, that she had the advantage of actually seeing the dead as they descended on her.

“Strange thing, really,” Enid begins. Her fingers twist together in her lap. “You were talking to the air for a while. If I didn’t know better I would have been questioning your sanity. Then Cassie...suddenly she’s there.”

Bonnie makes a face, as if she should know who Cassie is. It dawns on her --- a girl with brown hair that covers her face; a girl with a white dress. “She is one of Harvest girls, right?”

Enid nods.

“She made it back,” Bonnie is stating the obvious but she doesn’t care. It doesn’t help knowing one came back. At least not like it should. She has stood in this very room and promised Davina that she would actually get to live her life.

Instead…

“The coven swooped her up pretty quick,” Enid explains. “Especially since it all turned upside down really.” She bows her head, finds a spot on the floor. “It was like something pinned you down --- you fought though, fought like hell but they just...poured out of you.”

Bonnie swallows back something; anger, fear --- maybe it’s not an emotion, maybe she is going to throw up all the bile in her stomach. “How many?”

Enid shakes her head. “I don’t know. They weren’t friendly. I’m smart enough to know when a quick exit is the best idea.”

A new question slams hard into her chest. “Sophie?”

“Fine.” Enid then curls up her mouth. “Well, physically. Last I saw, Marcel was lifting her off the ground and getting her the hell out of there.”

Bonnie closes her eyes, trying to imagine how Sophie feels at this very moment. For the past few months she had lived for that one moment. She had come so close, only to be knocked away before she could finally grasp what she has sacrificed so much for (and her prize is supposed to be a living, breathing thing).

“I might have run all night if Rebekah and that brother of hers hadn’t slid into my path,” Enid admits.

She seems ashamed of that fact and Bonnie wants to tell her she understands. There is something to be said to lying low until you truly know what you are facing --- and therefore there is no shame in running. Instead of saying that, Bonnie only manages one word. “Rebekah?”

“I was nearly back to the Jardin Gris and she is suddenly there with you in her arms,” Enid explains. “Elijah was right behind me and for a moment I think I’m prey. Then he’s laying it on thick with the manners, thinking you might need a witch’s help. He didn’t even need to bother really. I would have helped as soon as I saw you. You looked...well, you were an unholy shade of grey.”

It is on the tip of her tongue to thank Enid for taking care of her (even in those moments where she had fought against it). Instead their attention is pulled to the door where Elijah stands. Bonnie wonders if he has heard his name being whispered from his corner of the compound.

“You are awake,” he says. “I trust you are feeling more yourself.”

“Less like I was stomped on by a horde of ghosts,” Bonnie assures him.

He frowns. Perhaps it is not a good idea to make light of their very real crisis but she has spent nearly a day in bed caught between states of consciousness --- if anyone gets to poke fun at it all, she figures it is her.

“In regards to that,” Elijah begins, sounding all business. She supposes this is what he looks like as he strategizes for war. “My siblings and I have questions.”

“Of course you do,” Bonnie says. Enid mutters a few choice words under her breath (Bonnie wonders if she is aware how adept vampire hearing is).

“Not only for you,” Elijah says but it does not sound reassuring. “For the witch that was found lurking outside the cemetery as well.”

Bonnie freezes. “ --- you have her?”

He nods.

She doesn’t hesitate. She pulls back the covers that have pinned her in and twists her body so her legs dangle over the edge of the bed. Her head clouds before she even stands but that doesn’t stop her from trying. She might have hit the ground if he hadn’t been lightning quick. She blinks, tilting her head to look up at him. He feels solid. Warm. “I’m good.”

“Are you certain?” He asks.

Bonnie nods and he takes a step back. Enid, who is still sitting on the bed, raises an eyebrow. “I need to see, Elijah,” she states firmly. He appears to be thinking it over. “You never would have found her if it weren’t for me.”

He inclines his head and then moves towards the door. “You should know, she has been less than cooperative,” he tells her. “Despite my brother’s attempts to discover the truth.”

Bonnie knows what he is trying to tell her. She might not like what she is about to find but there is no way she is staying in this room a moment longer.

She has questions too.

“Sabine.”

Enid has stuck close. At first Bonnie thinks she is hovering in case there is a repeat performance of the near fall in the bedroom. But then she realizes that Enid wants to get a good look at the witch that may have blown her coven’s ritual sky high. She stands next to Bonnie, her face twisted in pure shock.

Bonnie looks to the witch (Sabine) seated at the other end of the dining room table. She appears calm, almost serene really. This despite the blood that is caked at the corner of her mouth and neck and the shackles that twist around her wrists. Bonnie takes a deep breath, attempting to push back at the immediate knee jerk reaction at seeing a witch beaten and in chains. She knows suffering at the hands of vampires --- she knows suffering at the hands of these particular vampires.

Elijah had been wise to warn her.

“Enid,” Sabine says and there is a hint of a smile on her face. She then looks to Bonnie. “Miss Bennett, I am glad that you are on your feet again.”

Strangely, those words of apparent kindness help alleviate her inborn desire to pull Sabine free of the Mikaelsons. She doesn’t want pity --- not from the woman who no doubt is a cause of her misery in the first place. She stands in the entrance to the dining room, eyeing Sabine with a newfound light. That serene look takes on an almost manic quality, as if she is one smile away from cracking in half completely.

Bonnie tears her eyes from Sabine and finds herself looking at Klaus instead. He is eyeing her in return and for a moment she shifts uncomfortably under his gaze. He has that same look about him --- as if he is wondering just what in the hell she is. She supposes after last night, she has upped the ante when it comes to being the Anchor. She just doesn’t fully understand how yet. She has to look back at Sabine. “What did you do?”

Klaus laughs bitterly. “She is not in the sharing mood.”

Bonnie has no doubt that he has tried to persuade her using the methods he knows best. Given Sabine’s general disposition at the moment, she seems proud to wear the marks that prove she will not give into Klaus Mikaelson. Bonnie pays him no mind, instead moving further into the dining room. Sabine eyes her progress; leaning back in her chair (a frisson of pain is evident on her face as she does so). Finally Bonnie sits herself down. “You’re a French Quarter witch?” Enid’s reaction is all the proof she needs of that.

“In name only,” Sabine answers. “Our coven is not what it used to be. It’s weak, kowtowing to vampires.”

Enid explodes. “So you turn your back on it instead? Destroy what hope we have left?” She might have said or done more but Elijah’s hand casually drops in front of her. For the first time, Enid appears to heed to his quiet brand of authority.

Bonnie gets Enid’s anger. Or she thinks she does. She has always believed that in the world of the supernatural, witches should stick together. This whole mess, between being cornered into working with the Mikaelsons and watching the Harvest fall to pieces, has her questioning if she has been far too naive in her approach.

Sabine’s laugh sounds hollow. “One day you’ll understand that what I did is much bigger than our coven. What I did is for all the witches, the humans...anyone who has been wronged by the Mikaelson family.”

Klaus moves swiftly, a growl erupting from his throat as he kicks Sabine’s chair. She topples backwards, the sound of her head hitting the floor echoing throughout the room. Bonnie stands and her eyes are wide as she looks from Sabine to Klaus, who appears every part the wild animal he is. She feels a very real measure of fear as she steps forward. “Obviously, that doesn’t work on her.”

Sabine laughs once more (albeit the sound is more subdued this time) as if to prove Bonnie’s point. She looks dazed as she stares up at the ceiling.

Klaus’s mouth tightens. He raises his right hand, pointing a finger directly at Bonnie. “Explain to me what happened last night.”

She can only tell him what she knows. “Instead of the living crossing over to the land of the dead, the dead crossed over to the land of the living.”

He is clearly not happy with her answer. “How?”

There are multiple answers to that question. The idea of the dead coming back to life is not a new concept to either of them. They have both seen it in action. She just doesn’t fully know which answer to supply him with in this case.

“I hijacked the Reaping,” Sabine whispers from her position on the floor. Despite her quiet tone, she sounds proud.

Both Bonnie and Klaus turn their heads to look at Sabine. She is still staring at the ceiling. Bonnie crouches down, her hands wrapping around the arm of the chair. She gives it a fruitless tug and then glances up at Klaus. He merely raises a brow. She sighs. “Elijah?”

Thankfully Elijah proves to be more agreeable than his brother. Together they right Sabine’s chair and Bonnie once again takes her seat. She presses her lips together, knowing she is not going to like what she is about to hear. “Hijacked it --- what do you mean?”

Sabine somehow manages to twist her body into a more regal position. “That magic was meant for one thing --- to bring those girls back. I just...made sure to change the path a little that’s all.” She leans in and suddenly Bonnie feels like it is just the two of them in the room. “Everyone who understands the Harvest knew Davina was going to die one way or another…” Bonnie flinches and Sabine seemingly ignores it. “...so whether she let herself be sacrificed or she burnt out under this roof, all that magic in her was going to come pouring out for anyone to take advantage of. Sophie wanted to use it to do right by her sister --- I was thinking about the bigger pictures, I wanted to do right by everyone so at just the right moment, I cast my own spell.”

Bonnie knows the spell Sabine is speaking of would have to be a powerful one to supersede the Harvest ritual. But then she realizes that for the past few months, Sabine has been the one dabbling in sacrificial magic. She has been killing vampires, wolves and witches alike and hoarding that all that power to use just as soon as Davina died.

“You stopped them from coming back,” Bonnie says and she feels the first inklings of the anger that Enid feels. That Klaus feels.

Sabine shakes her head as if the loss of three young lives who were promised a second chance is no big deal. “They could have come back. They just had to be quick about it. You see, that spell of mine --- it opened you up. Swung the door the other way sort to speak. As long as you were conscious, anyone could have come through. Of course, there was a line up. A plan in place to ensure that just the right people made it back.”

That army Kol has been talking about --- they were waiting for that spell to take hold and then they had descended on her.

“For what it is worth, I am sorry that they didn’t make it back,” Sabine says.

It is too bitter a pill to swallow. She stands abruptly, wanting to put some space between her and Sabine. For a split second, she is afraid that she too might lash out at the witch. That desire is evident in her voice when she speaks. “How the hell did you know a spell like that?” She already knows the answer but part of her still needs to Sabine to speak the words, to confirm everything that Kol has been saying from the start.

“From her,” Sabine answers simply.

It is Elijah that speaks now (fitting since Sabine has made a reference to a threat against his family). “And who is her?”

Sabine turns her head, once more staring straight ahead. She resumes the same peaceful look as before and Bonnie knows that she is done talking. She has told them all she wanted to tell them; she will carry the rest of it with her for however long she has left.

Bonnie doesn’t want to hear it anyway (despite knowing that it would help in what is to come). She is still shaking slightly, the anger rolling through her in muted waves. She has been used, treated like nothing more than a means to some horrific end. She has felt this way before --- it is not a foreign concept to her. Each time has been far too personal. Each time she has vowed not to let it happen again. Yet, she finds herself right here in this moment time and time again.

She doesn’t know how to break the cycle.

She does know that she no longer wants to be in the same room as Sabine. She turns on her heels and moves towards Enid. “Let’s find Sophie.”

Bonnie waits nearly two blocks before she decides to speak. Enid has also been quiet, either out of respect or because she is dealing with her own inner monologue (it is probably a combination of them both). “I suppose it is cold comfort in a way…”

Enid has her arms tucked over one another. She glances Bonnie’s way. “How you figure that?”

“At least I know what the hell happened to me,” she says. “I could have been in my dorm room, studying for finals or something when Davina died. All those people...I wouldn’t have had a clue. At least I know.”

“At least you weren’t alone,” Enid adds.

That reminds Bonnie of something she had meant to say earlier. “Thank you by the way. For taking care of me.”

Enid shakes her head, a hint of a smile once again ghosting across her face. “You needed help. I could help. It was as simple as that.” Then she makes a face. “Well, relatively simple --- would have been easier without that suited shadow lurking around.”

Elijah.

“You must have made one hell of an impression on him,” Enid points out. The words are not quite as playful as they would have been a few hours ago.

“He owes me,” Bonnie answers simply. “And not like you think.” She wonders if she should just tell Elijah they are even now. She doesn’t quite believe it of course. A few days of him being a gentleman hardly make up for what has happened to Abby Bennett (and what could have happened to her). But still, letting him off the hook meant that she can avoid future attempts to be gallant on his part.

Enid doesn’t press any further. Instead they focus on finding Sophie. She isn’t answering her phone (Bonnie didn’t think she would). Enid knows where she lives but there is no answer there either.

“Rousseau’s?” Bonnie asks as she leans against the door frame while Enid knocks one final time.

“It’s worth a shot.”

Turns out it is exactly where they need to be. Bonnie pushes open the door to find the place moderately busy. Cami is behind the bar, dishing out drinks but has time to give them both a look of relief. She turns her gaze to the left and Bonnie follows it.

There sits Sophie looking utterly devastated.

Bonnie moves with a sense of urgency, slipping into the seat across from her. It doesn’t take her long to realize that Sophie is completely drunk. The smell alone has her recoiling. They stare at one another, although Sophie can’t quite focus properly. Bonnie realizes she has no idea what to say. Other than the obvious. “I am so sorry, Sophie,”

Sophie’s mouth tightens and she sniffs. The rims of her eyes are red, probably from a combination of the alcohol and copious amounts of crying. “I know you are.”

Bonnie wishes she could say something more. Instead she sits there, feeling stuck. Enid has taken the other seat, sizing up Sophie and no doubt concocting some combination of herbs to at least temper the turmoil going on inside of her. “Look…”

“Whatever nice thing you are going to say, just...don’t,” Sophie says. She waves off Bonnie’s words, her movements slow and clumsy. In the end the palm of her hand slaps against the wood of the table. She lurches forward a little. “Cami already tried that. She’s working on a psych degree. Did you know that? She tried to go up one side of my head and down the other. I asked her for a bottle of whiskey instead.”

Bonnie supposes there is no sense in trying right now. The grief is too fresh --- because that is exactly what this is. Grief. For all intents and purpose, Monique has ‘died’ again the previous night. Sophie needs to have a moment like this before she can be reasoned with.

As if she is trying to prove herself, Sophie thrusts the empty bottle of whiskey in the air. “Another one.”

It takes Cami a moment or two to get to them. When she does, she is empty handed. She looks from Sophie to Bonnie. “I’m not giving her anymore. She’s cut off.”

Sophie’s features darken. “Oh, you owe me, Cami. After I helped you get free of Klaus’ compulsion, gave you vervain…”

Bonnie raises a brow. Suddenly she gets why Cami all but spits in Klaus’ face every time he is around.

“I am paying you back,” Cami says calmly. She does not look too pleased to have her ordeal with Klaus thrown in her face but perhaps she is cutting Sophie some slack given the circumstance. “You’ll thank me tomorrow when you don’t feel like throwing up everything you have ever eaten in your life.”

Sophie tries to level Cami with her best stare but in the end, tears fill her eyes instead. Bonnie feels her heartbreak and the guilt stirs inside of her once again. She can’t help but reach out and cover Sophie’s hand with her own. Just a little gesture to show her that she is not alone.

“You know what the most ironic part of all this is?” Sophie asks. Before anyone can venture a guess, Sophie answers. “The Harvest worked. The French Quarter Coven is fully recharged.” She proves it by simply flicking her wrist. A row of tables topple over and the other patrons react the way anyone would when things fly without reason to. There are murmurs of surprise and people bolting out of their seats. Cami moves immediately to calm the crowd.

Bonnie glances at Enid. Both are thinking the same thing. It is probably best to get Sophie out of here before she does something she truly regrets.

“You and I,” Enid announces. “We’re going back to the Jardin Gris. I am going to stuff you full of thyme, ginger and peppermint tea so you won’t be sick as a dog tomorrow. Before you even try, there’ll be no arguments, Sophie Devereaux. I know you’re hurting but burning Rousseau’s down around your ears is not the solution.”

Bonnie helps get Sophie on her feet before she passes her over fully to Enid. She figures that for now it is best for the two of them to be alone. They are from the same coven; they have known one another longer --- they probably have some very serious things to discuss when Sophie’s head finally clears.

As she leaves, Bonnie can hear Cami spinning some tall tale about haunted New Orleans to the bewildered customers.

She is not that far off really.

Bonnie realizes as she criss-crosses the Quarter that this is the first time she has been alone in a while. She should relish that fact but instead she is having trouble fully embracing it. She has far too many thoughts running in her head. With no one to talk to, she knows they’ll just take over.

She finds herself wishing Kol were here.

Then she remembers --- a dream (or not a dream) of Kol sitting on her bed, urging her to wake up. For a brief moment she had thought he had been one of the ones who had made it back through.

She feels a knot form in her stomach. She wishes she had asked Enid if that was real or not. She can’t imagine asking Elijah if he could see his brother (it seemed so callous, even if she cared so little what Elijah thought of her). Then again, she hadn’t been in her right mind when it happened. She can’t be blamed.

She stops, looking around her. There is something familiar about this place even though she knows she has never been here before. She wonders if she has simply gotten used to the city, despite actively trying not to. She presses her lips together. “Kol?” She wonders if he can hear her wherever he is. She knows he can see her but does her voice carries the same way her ‘light’ does?

Bonnie waits a beat or two, looking for any sign of him. When he doesn’t appear, her shoulders slump. She can see him being flung away from her moments before the Reaping went south. She hopes that he is safe --- or as safe as he can be given that he is already dead. She is going to need him.

Correction: his family is going to need him.

She sighs, feeling like she has no other choice but to head back to the compound. She has no idea what she will do when she gets there. The past few days have been a whirlwind of searching for answers and trying to help Davina. Since she has failed in both regards, she wonders what her next step is supposed to be.

She is about a block away when she hears the footsteps. Something in her perks up and she turns, fully expecting to see Kol standing there.

She finds Sabine instead.

For a moment, Bonnie stands there, eyes firmly on Sabine. There is more blood now and her left arm seems twisted at an odd angle. Then reality hits her. There is no way that Sabine could have escaped and there is no way that the Mikaelsons would have let her walk out the front door.

Despite her obvious injury, Sabine holds her head up as she near Bonnie.

“You really think you did the right thing,” Bonnie says as Sabine comes to a stop in front of her. Now that they are away from the prying eyes of the Mikaelsons, Bonnie lets her anger boil over the surface. “You used me to do it. You used those girls…”

Sabine doesn’t flinch, not that Bonnie has expected her to. “I did say I was sorry. But not everyone can survive. In a war there has to be collateral damage.”

“That distinction now includes you,” Bonnie points out, her voice filled with the bitterness that has taken hold of her. She loathes the phrase ‘collateral damage’. It should never be applied to human life. She has no desire to listen to Sabine wax poetically about the cause she has ‘martyred’ herself for. For the first time since becoming the Anchor, she reaches for the newly deceased instead of letting Sabine reach for her. Her fingers close tightly around Sabine’s arms.

She feels it --- the searing pain in her neck. She knows it too well. She has felt fangs pierce her skin before. This is more violent. It almost feels as if some part of her flesh is going to be ripped away. She won’t let it overtake her. She has felt enough pain in the past few days. She is determined to stay on her feet and not cower before Sabine. Finally, the pain passes and so does Sabine.

Bonnie is left alone once more.

Klaus is splayed across a chair in the courtyard, a dark look on his face and a drink within his reach. Bonnie debates walking right past him on her way to her room. But only for a moment. Before she can fully think things through she is standing in front of him. “You killed her.”

It has to be him. The attack she relived in the street had been frenzied, befitting of someone who is part beast.

Klaus does not move an inch. Instead he rolls his gaze from the drink on the table towards her. Any sane human being would step back (but she often questions her sanity so she doesn’t). “Come to shame me, little witch?”

For a brief moment, she wonders why he bothers to call her that anymore. She hasn’t been a witch in a long time. She worries that someday she will forget what it feels like to have power running through her veins. In the end, she decides that it is no doubt much easier to call her that than the alternative.

He is looking at her expectantly so she has to decide what her answer will be. Does she want to shame him for killing Sabine? “No,” she says, surprising even herself. She should be saying just the opposite. She should not be giving Klaus a free pass. He has caused so much misery to her and the ones she loves. She should never condone his actions.

Yet there is part of her that does.

He sits up straight now, clearly having been expecting a lecture. Maybe he would have sat there passively as she delivered it (she thinks back to that time when she was an idealistic teen, telling him he bothered her while he mockingly placed his hand over his wounded heart). Maybe he would have done the opposite and stood toe to toe with her. She can see traces of Sabine’s blood on his skin, his clothes --- he is probably still coming down from the high of the kill. Not an ideal time to deliver a speech on morals or doing the right thing.

“Let me see if I understand this,” he muses. “I kill a witch and you have nothing to say?”

Wrong. She has plenty to say --- most of it making her uncomfortable. In all her time, she has never felt that kind of bloodlust. People have hurt her, pushed her down, twisted her to their own designs but she has never once killed someone in return. That is not who she is.

But if someone else does it for her…

She feels slightly dirty at the thought. She has always felt that she has the moralistic high ground when it comes to people like him. She fights for what is right. Or at least that is what it says on paper. In reality, she fights for those she loves. How many times has she been willing to bend the laws of nature for her friends? She doesn’t even question it. She simply acts and in the end she tells herself it is the right thing to do (perhaps that idea is some kind of balm against opposing thoughts).

Bonnie finds herself looking at the floor.

Like a predator, Klaus smells blood in the air. He stands, moving close enough that she can practically feel him against her skin. “She hurt you,” he begins. “She practically helped rip you apart. I was not there to witness it myself but my sister regaled me with the tale of how she found you lifeless, like you simply belonged to the cemetery. Add to that, she stole Davina.” There is a hum of satisfaction when Bonnie jerks, her eyes darting back to clash with his. “You led her to the slaughter with a promise that she would come out of it free.” He pauses as if he is pondering a thought. “I would imagine the guilt….the pain of that loss is crushing.”

She hates how easily he reads her in this moment.

“Of course, you will never openly approve of my actions tonight,” he concludes. “But you cannot stand there and rebuke me for them either.”

Bonnie decides that although she still has the high ground, she has slipped a little.

Klaus steps back and reaches for his drink. Bonnie fights the urge to simply climb the stairs and fall on her bed. She has only been truly conscious for a few hours and already she can feel the exhaustion pulling at her once more. She thinks she will never get rid of that feeling. At least not while she is in this place surrounded by these people.

A glass of amber liquid appears in her line of vision. She blinks, realizing she has gone so far into her head that she did not even notice he had poured it. Although she envisions letting the drink shatter at her feet, she can’t bring herself to follow through with the idea. It seems petty and she has already given Klaus enough ammunition on this night.

Her fingers curl around the chilled glass. She has it to her lips before he speaks.

“For what it is worth, I am sorry,” he begins. “About Davina. Make no mistake, I did not care for her --- but she meant a great deal to Marcel.”

And you care for him, Bonnie finishes silently.

Her drink is gone more quickly than it should be. She sets the glass next to his on the table. A strange sort of silence falls over the two of them --- strange in that it is not uncomfortable. She feels like she should say something but instead just looks at him instead.

Maybe she would have thanked him for his attempt at kind words.

Maybe not.

Either way, she’ll never know because the distinctive sound of footsteps draws their attention from one another to the door. Bonnie immediately tenses. Standing there, surveying the two of them with a look of curiosity is the woman from the night before. The one who thanked her before stepping on her in order to live once again. She no longer wears clothes that place her in the past. Instead she stands before them in a red dress that is solely designed to catch the attention of everyone around her.

Klaus moves to stand next to Bonnie. He has his eyebrows drawn together and his mouth is in a tight line.

“You don’t recognize me, do you?” There is a sigh. “I should have expected this. You often looked right through me. I wonder if that made it easier in the end.”

Bonnie wants to ask the obvious question. In the end she doesn’t need to. Elijah appears on the balcony, his face wholly unreadable. A guttural sound escapes him as his fingers curl tightly around the railing. For a moment he stares at the woman in red and she only has eyes for him in return.

Then he says it.

“Celeste.”

#bonnie bennett #kennett #klonnie #bonlijah #tvd fic #thousand

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