"Are you going to tell me what's bothering you, Trixter?"

She rubbed her temples in response. "Everything is wrong. I want to be here, but it's not living up to my expectations."

"Elijah again?"

"Elijah and Hayley. She doesn't like me, I know it. She's amazing but inherently, we both see each other as competition."

"Isn't she married?"

"Yeah, but she did that to protect her daughter. She still cares for Elijah. Both of us are tense in general, I think, because Elijah's been with this new vampire chick Gia. I met her only once but it's whatever, he can do what he fucking pleases. I just hate how he tries to control me just because of how unhinged I've gotten in the past."

There was a pause, and Kai seemed to figure it out. "He brought up your episode, didn't he? Rubbed it in your face somehow?"

"Hayley and I got in an argument. Elijah butted in and it pissed me off. He made a comment about getting another piano key for me to put my magic away in. Then when I insisted I wasn't having another episode, he doubted me. Then I— I got that feeling in my stomach when I'm getting really worked up. The same thing I felt gradually getting worse in the past, when it happened before."

"Are you... worried about it happening? Or is it not really a problem?"

"Of course I'm worried. Last time, I tore my room apart, I was losing myself and hurting myself and trying to kill anyone who came close to me. It was mania to an extreme, terrible level, where I couldn't control my emotions or actions. I usually pride myself on having a lot of control. My blood lust has never been a major problem for me, and I prefer that. I was hungry all the time without my magic— I got to a point where I'd feed on myself just to have blood on my lips. They kept putting me to sleep so I wouldn't dessicate. It only made me hungrier, and it was keeping me from drying up. Eventually, they started giving me bits of blood when I behaved, and somehow... I got better. It's an evil type of blur in my mind. I was a monster. I've killed people, sure, every vampire has, and I've been merciless about it. But mostly in self-defense. I never wanted to kill unless I was really hungry or frustrated, and even then I could hold back. If I let my mind wander, I can hurt my niece."

"Normally, I'd say you should just succumb to your impulses. I like the idea of blood and murder, it gives me a thrill like nothing else. It calms me to have control over someone else's life. But that's my sociopathic brain speaking, obviously. You're all mushy and nice most times, and you actually care whether you hurt someone. I guess.... That's your starting point. You have motivation to stay sane. You don't want to cause harm to the people close to you. Your triggers seem to revolve around anger and frustration. In another instance, I'd tell you to fucking go for it, use it as drive to feed and be free. Now... um, well, I guess I have to tell you to try and keep all your emotions in check more often. Instead of letting Hayley get to you, just fantasize about killing her. Don't act on it if you don't want to, but you could do it just so that it gives you more of a pleasing sensation than an angry sensation. That could probably backfire, and you might actually tear her apart, but let's hope it doesn't get to that point. I don't know... I'm bad at giving advice when it comes to someone wanting to be good. Luke's influence isn't strong enough to make me useful here."

Beatrix chuckled lightly. "It helps more than you realize. Thank you."

He let out a sigh. "You're welcome, I guess. If you get into a really major mood to unleash, come with me and we'll go on a spree. It'll be fun. We can take people's hearts as souvenirs."

"We'll see. How are you, though? What's been going on?"

"Oh, you'll like this. I got Jo to give me her magic, mostly pretending to be sick and dying. Then, I was able to sense that she's pregnant. Can you believe it? I'm like, a baby whisperer. Pity the baby is going to die, though."

"What? But— oh. Oh... it's going to die when you kill your entire coven."

"Yep. But Josette is getting married now— partly a shotgun wedding. Her babydaddy is named Alaric Saltzman so that's weird, but at least the baby won't have to suffer with the last name Saltzman. This is perfect, Trix, they're going to get married sometime in the summer and I'm pretty sure they're inviting the entire Gemini Coven. D'you think you'll be free to come to Mystic Falls in the summer?"

"Hopefully, if we manage to bash Dahlia's face in by then."

"Perfect. I'm thinking— we crash the wedding after you feed me some of your blood. Then, I'll kill myself so the whole Coven can die in one strike. When I wake up, I'll be a Heretic, and you can teach me everything I need to know. Not that there will be much, I'm assuming, but we can hang out like old times. Everything is heightened as a vampire, right? Imagine how great sex will be."

Beatrix snorted. "Kai, you're going to break the mortal girls if you get in bed with them in that state."

"Oh, here's the thing. I have some compassion. I wouldn't dare do it with a mortal once I become a Heretic.... I was talking about you."

She felt her cheeks redden. "What?"

"Did you just take a sip of stupid juice or what? We're going to have to celebrate somehow."

"Um, most people just drink. Or go out in a party bus."

"I'm only going to say this once and then I'm going to hang up. Understood?"

"Er— sure?"

"I want to do it with you, not anyone else. And I haven't actually been sleeping around at all. I haven't been with anyone since you, in the prison world." The call then promptly ended, and Beatrix was left to scoff to herself, her face still burning.

Talking downstairs drew her attention away from what Kai had said. The distinct sound of Freya's voice was what drew her to stand and speed out, to where Freya was waiting at the entrance.

"Beatrix!" she said in relief when she saw her, the werewolf guards having been blocking her way. "Your spell really is doing its job— I couldn't get in. Not that they'd let me."

"Excuse me," said Beatrix, moving through the werewolves, and waving her hand before pulling Freya in. It was only then that she realized the woman was shaking. "What happened? Is everything okay?"

"I'll tell you when we get the others," she said quietly, hugging herself. Beatrix pulled her toward the courtyard, where Elijah and Rebekah had already come out to see what was happening.

"Freya," said Elijah, coming down quickly.

"I saw her," the blonde blurted out. "Dahlia. She intends to make her move tonight. Klaus and our father will be her next victims."

Elijah shot Rebekah a sharp look before turning to his elder sister. "And you have returned to warm the very people who would cast you out?"

Freya nodded. "I understand Klaus's mistrust, as I do yours, but I did not come this far to see my family die at the hands of the very evil that I've tried for so long to escape. I'm begging you— help me save them."

"Tell us what you need," said Elijah immediately.

"Dahlia will lure them into a trap. She prefers places of darkness. She'll be drawn to any site that's been steeped in death."

Rebekah rolled her eyes at this. "Well, welcome to New Orleans."

"Oh no," said Freya quickly, "I'm talking about dark power created by massacre. Sacred ground that's been stained with the blood of the innocent."

"St. Anne's Church," said Beatrix immediately. "Cami told me about it."

"We must not waste any time, then," said Elijah, offering Freya his arm. "Hold on." He then looked at Beatrix and offered his other arm. "As fast as we can."

Understanding, she slowly took his arm, and the two began to speed as fast as they could, with Freya in tow, toward St. Anne's Church. Beatrix was thankful it wasn't all that far.

They arrived at the entrance and stopped abruptly. Freya put her finger over her mouth to motion for them to be quiet. They crept forward through the open doors, seeing Klaus and Mikael struggling against the dark haired witch, who seemed to not be strained at all. Elijah pulled Beatrix to the side, and they crept around while Freya remained in the center aisle, apparently planning to make herself known.

They crept behind pews, Dahlia still too focused on Klaus, who had reached for a knife on the floor and had lunged toward the witch. With a simple wave, Dahlia sent Klaus flying back into a wall, knocking him unconscious and causing the knife to clatter to the floor. The woman glared down at Mikael instead. "And you," she said darkly as the Original struggled to his knees. "Husband of my sister. You, I would like to make suffer." She cupped her hand and beckoned it toward Mikael, making him choke and gasp for breath. Both Mikael and Klaus had a greyish tint suggesting that Dahlia was slowly desiccating them.

"ENOUGH!" cried Freya. Dahlia immediately released Mikael from the spell and turned to Freya. Elijah took this moment to speed himself and Beatrix closer to Klaus, who was still unconscious.

"My Freya," said Dahlia as the two vampires inched closer to the hybrid. "You do realize that this so-called family of yours is simply using you for your power? They've been doing it to witches for thousands of years."

"No!" spat Freya. "You're the one that used me for a thousand years! No more!"

"So be it!" Dahlia flicked her wrist, and Freya began to choke, her body rising into the air.

"NOOO!" bellowed Mikael, lunging toward Dahlia and stabbing her in the abdomen with a stake. "STAY AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER!"

"Now," breathed Elijah. They sped forward and Elijah bit into his wrist, pushing the blood into Klaus's mouth. Beatrix put her hand on his forehead, muttering a spell and reviving him just as Dahlia threw Mikael across the room. "Don't you know I'm too powerful to kill?" she spat.

Elijah launched himself forward toward her, but she tossed him back against the pews, making him land right beside Klaus, who had just opened his eyes. Beatrix took her turn, and waved her hands, sending one of the benches up and slamming into Dahlia, who simply turned it into a horde of birds that turned around and sped toward Beatrix. Growling, the Heretic waved her hands to disintegrate the birds. Klaus took a chance, having picked the knife up again, and speeding to stab Dahlia.

But the witch simply vanished, and Klaus crashed right into the sacristy. Dahlia appeared again closer to Beatrix, waving her hand lazily and making the Heretic cry out in pain, crumpling to the floor clutching her stomach. She coughed, and began to spit out blood. "You are merely a child in my eyes, dear," Dahlia said. "You are not strong enough to counter me in this manner."

She then disappeared again, and Beatrix let out a hoarse croak as she stopped bleeding. Elijah ran to her side and pulled her up, just as Dahlia appeared far enough away from the five of them. "We all have weaknesses," she said. She then reappeared on the other side of the room. "You came here to exploit mine. And, in doing so, you lost the one thing you could have used against me." She held up the knife that Klaus had wielded. "The weapon you created, now rendered useless." She reappeared beside a basin of holy water and dropped the knife in, causing it to burst into flames.

"NO!" screamed Freya.

Dahlia let out a sigh of apparent boredom. "Now that we've disposed of that little trinket, perhaps we can focus on the issue at hand? After all, I seek only that which is owed to me, nothing more. Give me the child, and you all may live. Deny me, and, well... you've had a taste of my power. I can't imagine you hunger for more."

When she vanished that time, she did not reappear.

"Itza, are you alright?" breathed Elijah when her body swayed in his arms.

"M'fine," she said weakly, rubbing over her abdomen. She wasn't sure what spell Dahlia had even used on her. She'd never been left this weak after a magical duel. Usually, she won them fairly quickly, being more ancient and experienced against the majority of witches who tried to counter her. But all her efforts had been overcome with chilling ease by Dahlia.

From the other end of the church, Freya helped Mikael stand up. He glared in Beatrix's direction. "You're supposed to be dead," he murmured.

"Is now really the time for that discussion?" said Elijah harshly, picking Beatrix up bridal style. She moaned in pain and let her head lean against his shoulder.

Freya released Mikael's arm and came closer to observe her. "I know this spell. She was tearing her up from the inside. Typically, the average witch would die. You can't, because your body is healing itself. Don't worry, just let yourself rest."

"Put her to sleep if it will help," said Elijah. "I think—"

"No," moaned Beatrix. "Don't want... to sleep."

But Freya put her to sleep anyway.

When she awoke, she was laying on one of the couches in the courtyard, and it seemed that the others were telling Rebekah what'd happened in the church.

"Well, that sounds like a bloody fiasco," huffed Rebekah. "Where's Dahlia now?"

"She can be anywhere," Elijah said defeatedly. "There wasn't a trace of her left in the church."

Freya huffed bitterly. "She's done with us for the night. No doubt, she wants us to take some time to wallow in our defeat."

"Defeat?" Klaus said, taking a sip of the scotch in his hand. "I disagree. We saw her face, we took her measure. If that's the best she's got, quite frankly, I'm unimpressed."

Mikael huffed. "Her aim was not to impress us. She wanted us to reveal our sole weapon, and like fools, we did.

Rebekah raised her eyebrows. "Am I hearing things, or did our brother just exchange words with our father?"

"Definitely not hearing things," Beatrix groaned as she started to sit up slowly.

Mikael smirked at this, and turned to his daughter. "Rebekah. I'd know that wicked tongue anywhere. What mischief have you gotten yourself into now? No doubt the bastard's doing."

Klaus growled and handed his scotch to Beatrix, who was right next to him. "Enough. My patience, like this farce of a reunion, is at an end."

"What do I do with this?" said the Heretic awkwardly, holding the glass.

"You drink it, love, I'm sure it's not that hard to figure out," he said. She took a skeptical sip as Elijah walked toward Mikael, a pensive expression on his face.

"There only is one question here— what exactly are we doing?" he inquired.

"This was not my plan," said Freya, sounding angry. "You rushed it and made but a single weapon! Of course she took it from you. And now, we've lost what advantage we had and used up the very materials we needed to kill her. Think of it— Beatrix didn't even know about the knife! We need to be more prepared, to communicate!"

"It's a bit histrionic," said Klaus. "Your materials are easily found. Let's take stock, shall we? There's an ample supply of your blood, Norwegian soil is hardly scarce... what else? Ah, yes— the ashes of Dahlia's Viking oppressors.

Mikael growled. "Only priceless relics gotten with great difficulty at a museum! Lost due to your worthless strategy!"

Klaus immediately sped to Mikael and pinned him to the wall, extracting the White Oak Stake and pressing it into the man's chest. Freya lunged forward while Mikael made absolutely no move to fight back. "NO!"

"If I feel even the faintest touch of your magic, Freya, I will end him with a flick of my wrist!" spat Klaus, glaring at Mikael, and causing Elijah to move forward and hold the witch back. "You don't seem surprised."

"Betrayal is in your nature, boy," the older male snarled.

"No, I wasn't born like this," said Klaus fiercely. "Her, you fight for— lovely Freya, the daughter you barely know. But there was a time where you knew me as your son! A time before all the disappointments, the revelations of betrayal." His voice began to tremble, and Beatrix could see that he'd started crying. "There were moments where all you had to do was be my father! And even then, you despised me, didn't you? I want to know why."

Beatrix was worried that Mikael was going to snap rudely, but his voice was soft, and genuine. "I don't know," he stated. "I just... did."

Another terrible moment where they just stared at each other. Klaus then seemed to swallow back his tears. "Are those your final words?" he said hatefully.

Mikael turned toward Freya after a brief moment of hesitation. "Freya, I'm so sorry. I love yo—"

Beatrix covered her mouth as Klaus plunged the stake right into his heart, making the man let out a loud yell of agony. Freya screamed and burst into tears, but Elijah kept holding her back. Rebekah visibly gulped from beside the Heretic, letting out a small, shaky sigh. Klaus let Mikael's body drop to the floor, desiccated. It burst into flames rights after, and Freya began to sob hysterically once more, lunging to attack Klaus, but continuing to be held back by Elijah.

"Viking ashes indeed rare?" said Klaus with dangerous softness. "All you really need is a burning Viking corpse."

He walked out of the room, ignoring the furious glares he was getting from Freya. Rebekah sank back into her chair, sharing a look with Elijah. Beatrix stood, and slowly started to follow after Klaus, only to be caught by Rebekah.

"He's not happy, even if he won't admit to it," she said worriedly. "He'll attack you."

"All the more reason to at the very least, check up on him," Beatrix said, moving her arm and going toward where she'd seen Klaus enter Hope's room.

She found him hunched over the empty crib, since Hope was currently with Hayley and Jackson in Algiers. She stepped forward slowly, and she watched his body tense, but he didn't object when she wrapped her arms around him from behind.

"You shouldn't do that," he said shakily. "You were just hurt, and I—"

"You're not going to hurt me. We both know that."

She let her arms move around his middle, and she rested her head against his back. She could hear his heart beating progressively slower. She let her hands rub over his abdomen gently, and she felt him shake a bit as he started to cry again.

"He just couldn't care about me," he said in a very quiet voice. "He didn't... didn't know..."

"You deserved a better father," Beatrix breathed. "And I am so sorry that you didn't get one."

He shook again, and she heard him audibly let out the faintest of sobs. She hugged him tighter, and he gulped, trying to stop himself from crying.

"Klaus?"

It was 1830, and she had found him alone in his room, drinking and staring out the window. She came closer and saw that he looked incredibly saddened. Likely in deep thought about someone or something from his past.

"Are you alright?" she whispered, stopping beside him.

"Of course, love," he said quietly. "Why, are you worried?"

"Yes. You can always talk to me, you know?"

"You needn't worry, Beatrix. You could be enjoying yourself elsewhere."

"I don't want to be elsewhere. I want to be here, with you."

She was catching feelings for him and she knew it. She was just supposed to keep him busy, and yet, every waking moment, her first thought was him. His intense gaze that he only dropped when it came to her or his siblings. The talent he had and the strength he carried himself with.

She put her hand slowly on his. "You don't have to pretend you're alright if you're not. It makes me feel sad to see you like this, Klaus."

He had turned toward her, and set his drink down on the windowsill. "Why?" he inquired. "Why must you insist on being in my presence? Any other male suitor would be preferable. A witch. Another vampire."

"You're my close friend. I trust you. Besides Rebekah, you're the only one who tries to understand me. Besides, I admire you."

He'd raised his eyebrows in slight surprise. "Honestly, love, I still believe you are bluffing..."

"I'm not. We raised Marcel and I got to see a side of you that a lot of people haven't. You are patient and caring, and you are loyal and determined. How could I not be drawn to that?"

He hadn't hesitated to take her by the waist and pull her in, one hand under her chin as he tilted her face up and kissed her more deeply than anyone had before. She'd melted into it, her hands finding their way to the collar of his shirt. For many nights after, he'd finally begin opening up to her, little by little, though never as much as Elijah ever did. He trusted her, and she kept his trust. They'd connected through frantic tangles and quiet words that brought them both a feeling of safety that neither had ever indulged in. Perhaps, they might have lasted, had Klaus not assumed that all her kind words had been absolute lies after he learned of Marcel and Rebekah's relationship.

"You're allowed to feel," she whispered. "You're not obligated to explain it to anyone, either. You're still learning, Klaus, but you're a good father. Hope is lucky to have you. You're not Mikael. You will never be Mikael. Your little girl has someone good to look up to. We're all going to help you. You're not alone."

He turned to face her right as she finished speaking and pulled her into a proper hug. She rubbed his back in response, feeling him still shaking.