Chapter: Two - War Tactics
Word Count: 3245
Rating: PG 13 - references to violence (this is not fluff and rainbows people)
Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson, Bonnie Bennett
Disclaimer: Vampire Diaries belongs to L.J Smith and the people who brought it to TV
Summary: Klaus knows just which buttons to push
Author's Note: Once again I thank you for the kind words! I am having a blast playing more long term in Klonnie-land. This chapter relies heavily on the events of 3x18 so some of the dialogue is lifted from the episode. However by mid next chapter you'll see how this veers off from the show and begins the climb toward the scene in the prologue!
Of course she spends her time devising a way out.
Bonnie tests her boundaries, seeing how far she can go before she is approached by one of those helpful little servants of his. She soon discovers she has effectively been pinned to the very room he has placed her in. The offers of food and drink are nothing more than thinly veiled reminders that the humans in Klaus’ employ have one true purpose
And she can’t bring herself to hurt them – it’s not their fault their free will has been tampered with.
She settles back on her chair, staring straight ahead. If she can’t leave, perhaps she can bring others to her. The easiest way, of course, would be by use of her cell phone but he had confiscated her bag and its contents upon her arrival. Still, she is not entirely down for the count yet. There are other methods – she has in the past called out through magic. It had been taxing then.
But she is stronger now.
She lets her eyes fall shut, her mind’s eye already creating a picture of just who she’d reach out to. Caroline. Dependable, fiercely protective Caroline. Caroline will round up the others – fair enough, as long as Bonnie can leave this place. She will deal with the fact that she loathes the very sight of half of her rescuers after she is back in the safety of her own home.
“Tick tock, I should hear chanting by now.”
Bonnie starts, her eyes flying open. She had been so engrossed in her formulating her own rescue that she did not realize Klaus had returned. Her eyes move to the grimoire, thankfully open to the correct page. She has given it no more than a passing glance since he had first left. She knows better than to let him in on that particular truth. “I am still studying the unlinking spell,” she begins with just the right amount of bite in her voice. Let him think she has whittled away the afternoon but pouring over Latin. “It’s not that easy. Especially under duress.”
She had not meant to add the final little quip but with her temper curling at the edges she can’t seem to help herself. She feels the full of effect of her mistake when he leans in.
“You’ve been warned,” he reminds her. The girl, the poor helpless girl who Bonnie has not seen since the moment Klaus nearly set her on fire. She is glad that her back is to him so he cannot see the momentary flash of despair over how close she had come to causing someone unnecessary pain. “If you are trying to find a way to send for help I will kill anyone who comes to your rescue.”
She wonders – if he really means it.
For her goal had been Caroline. Surely he wouldn’t kill Caroline, not with the amorous advances he has shown towards her over the past few weeks (if they are to be believed, but she does not trust even the slightest thing he says or does).
She stands now, eager to get away from his presence nearly breathing down her next. “This is the spell,” she counters in defense. It is not as if she flipped through his mother’s grimoire looking for a line of attack.
No, she has just pulled it from her own memory.
“I just don’t know if I’m strong enough,” she finishes. And it’s not a lie, not really. Her body is a conduit for magic; she has grown stronger since the days of floating feathers – but she is still a neophyte in so many ways. She isn’t entirely sure she’ll be able to channel enough power to pull apart five very old, very unnatural beings.
Clearly he is not content to let her retreat. He follows her, not even batting an eye at her claim. “Then you should have a lot more faith in yourself, Bonnie,” he tells her. She can’t stop from furrowing her brows together for the split second it takes for the words to fully register. He is about pay her compliment, lay it on thick and pretend he actually cares. “Your energy helped my mother link us. Honestly, I think someone isn’t trying very hard.”
Of course she isn’t.
She is trying harder to get the hell out of there.
Still, her eyes narrow on reflex. She has to bite back the urge to tell him to go to hell and rewards her self-control by standing a little taller.
She wonders if he can read her mind, for seconds after her little confidence boost, he is sucking in a breath, and reaching into his jacket pocket. “Very well.” It is like she is momentarily forgotten as he presses his phone to his ear and smiles like he is about to have a conversation with an old friend about pleasant things.
Only Bonnie knows better. A knot already curls in her stomach as she watches him out of the corner of her eye.
She is about to get another demonstration.
Best to brace herself.
She nearly bulks right then and there. Kol. She hasn’t had the pleasure but she has heard enough – a dangerous little psychopath who delights in causing others pain. The fact that he has an active role in all this only serves to tighten the knot.
“How is the weather up there in Mile High City?”
It takes a moment for it to fully digest. She has always prided herself on being quick on the draw but in this instance her comprehension runs a bit slower and then hits her as effectively as a slap to the face.
“And how’s our friend?”
She wonders if some of the color drains from her face. He is watching her now, analyzing her for the slightest reaction. She doesn’t have to crumble to know that he understands he has won. So in the interest of self-pride she stands just as she is.
“May I see him?” Klaus inquires and there is a smile playing at the corner of his face. Her fingers itch to remove it. He is never one to hide his pleasure in victory.
The following minutes will be unnecessary. She has already resigned herself to the inevitable. He pushes forth with the charade of course, wanting to grind it in and make her sorely regret for ever considering anything other than what he has asked. She goes absolutely still when he invades her personal space, tilts his head so his breath plays against her ear. She cannot focus on him because if she does she will focus on the fact that she wants nothing more than to rip him to pieces. And if she focuses on that she might damn well try.
So she focuses on Jeremy instead.
“There’s Jeremy. Playing with fetch with his new puppy.” She can see that. Even on the tiny screen she can see the relaxed stance, the wide smile – he is happy. And safe. Away from everything just as he should be. She can’t help but feel it is her fault he is on the edge of being pulled right back in. If she had known that he would go beyond the circle he had already mentioned, that he would choose that particular area to hit her in, she would never have spent the afternoon devising escape routes. “Isn’t that the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen?”
She tastes blood now and for the first time realizes she has bitten down on the inside of her cheek. She knows he can smell it but mercifully he chooses not to acknowledge it, instead stepping away to thank his brother. She swallows, the metallic taste filling her mouth, and then turns to face him.
He is regarding her with a rather stoic expression and she is for a brief moment grateful to him. He could have gloated, he could have beaten her down further but instead he returns to the business at hand.
“So, Bonnie, how about that spell?”
She studies now, working twice as hard to make up for lost time.
He leaves her to it, promising he will return within the hour. The threat that she better be ready or else remains unsaid but hangs in the air. Her initial quick analysis had been spot on – the spell’s complex and she will have be focused.
A hard task given that he will no doubt be breathing down her neck.
She commits the words to memory, focuses on drawing her energy forth and readying it for what is about to come. There is power thrumming throughout her, itching to be released. She feels a part of her crumble at the thought of how it will be used.
She should be saving it to kill him instead.
He returns before his pre-set deadline, strolling in at a leisurely pace. He runs his hand across the table as he stalks toward her, his eyes locked on the circle of candles she is setting up. She places the last one to complete the link and looks up at him. “Do you have a match?”
“Really?” He drawls out, making a face.
It is her one act of defiance – she could easily light them, they both know it, but she feels the need to inconvenience him.
Even if it’s just a little.
“A match?” She repeats unfazed by his look of disapproval.
Klaus’ mouth sets in a firm line. She wonders if he is itching to say something but thinks better of it. She guesses time is a factor because he dutifully walks to an antique desk and pulls out a box of wooden matches. When his hands them to her, his fingers close around her wrist. He doesn’t tug her forward, instead letting his touch bite into her skin. She knows better than to try to pull away. He will make something of it.
“I do not have to tell you just how troubling it will be if you try and trick me, little witch,” Klaus says, his voice dropping. There is malice there, enough to make her shiver on instinct.
“No, you don’t,” Bonnie retorts automatically. He smiles before letting go. She watches as he moves away, stopping to rest on the door frame. His hands are clasped in front of him once again and he gives a little nod as if giving her permission to start.
Bonnie takes her time lighting the candles and is blowing out the match when a sound startles her. She knows her body has jerked in reaction, how could it not – someone is in pain. Within these walls, someone has been hurt, no doubt on his orders. The very thought of it raises her hackles and she can’t stop herself from flinging the accusatory words at him. “What was that?”
He tilts his head up slightly, as if he is running possibilities through his head. There is a curve at the corner of his lips and she knows he knows exactly what is going on elsewhere in this house. She bets that he even wishes he could be there to witness it instead being stuck here supervising her. His eyes find her now. “I wouldn’t let it bother you, love,” he insists, trying to sooth her no doubt the same way one would a frightened child.
How can it not bother her?
The very condescending nature of his words, combined with all he has done to her on this day, has her snap before she can think things through.
“Well it does bother me. You bother me.”
It is not the worst she can do – she knows that. And the fact that he seems to be mocking her by having the gull to look wounded by her words pushes her to go further.
“The way you use people to get what you want, it’s not right,” she spits out, knowing she has stated the obvious. But it feels so good to have done so. Holding it in the way she has all day has been difficult and since he had all but handed her the opportunity to let some of it out, she is glad to have taken it.
Even if he will now make her pay for it.
“You’re being emotional, Bonnie,” he begins, his voice once again soothing. She pulls herself to her full height and prepares for him to manipulate the situation. “I understand that things have been rough for you. You know, with your mother leaving…”
This is the moment, she decides. This is when her desire to burn him from the inside out is at its greatest. His artificial sympathy is too much. She is a raw nerve when it comes to her mother. She hates that she is giving him the satisfaction of knowing that.
“…again. It’s very sad.”
She can feel her power bristle; call out to her to use it against him. A fruitless effort given who he. She forces herself to look away as he pushes off and comes toward her. If she looks at him, she’ll do it. She’ll drain herself on principle. She’ll have nothing left for his spell and someone (Jeremy, Caroline, Matt…) will pay because she let him get to her.
Unfortunately for her he knows how to draw her right back in.
“I can help you find her.” He is standing right in front of her now, his head lowered as if they are having an intimate conversation. He demands attention and she cannot stop her eyes from flickering back to him. “If you want. I have people who can find people. I can bring her back to you…” The last sentence is spoken with such conviction that she believes him. Bonnie believes he can drag Abby Bennett-Wilson kicking and screaming to drop her at her feet.
All it will cost her is a spell.
She is too caught up in the thought of seeing her mother again, of what she would say to Abby to make her understand the far reaching consequences of her cowardice, that she doesn’t immediately answer.
So he continues. “Or, if you choose, I can just bring parts of her back.” He smiles as he speaks and she knows he has reverted back to the tactic that he knows will work.
She will do anything to avoid seeing someone hurt in her name.
Still, she lashes out. Not with power, but with fist, curving her hand toward him, wanting to inflict even just the smallest measure of pain. It is not a well thought move and one that he easily deflects. He has the audacity to continue to look amused by it all as he finally retreats from her personal space. “Isn’t it obvious that I am just going to continue to hurt the ones you love until you do the spell…”
It is – and because of that she doesn’t bother to confirm his words.
Nor does he wait for her to, instead pushing forth with his return to business as usual. “Now I know it’s in the grimoire – and I know it requires the blood of my siblings. So…” He has picked up a small zippered case which he opens to display four vials of blood. The sight of them so carefully placed makes her realize that he has been planning this for days.
She should have seen it coming.
She should have planned for it. An offense. Some sort of counter attack.
Instead she had buried her head in the sand and is paying for it by now having to watch him rhyme off whose blood is where. Her stomach turns a little. Her eyes flit from the vials to him, just in time to see his fangs elongate, his eyes cloud a stark yellow. She sucks in air, tensing on reflex.
He bites down hard on the tender part of his palm and she winces now, watching as the blood pools in his hand. He closes his fingers around the wound, as if to hold the blood there.
He raises his head, his eyes once against blue. When he speaks, his tone is business like, to the point.
“Where do you want us?”
When it’s all said and done, Bonnie feels used, drained, dirty – like she thought she would.
However, she feels something else, something new in the pit of her stomach.
She has done as he desired. There are five pools of blood neatly spread within the circle of candles. She has not looked at them since the moment they started to pull away from another. His goal has been met – the Original siblings are linked no more.
And he has no reason to keep her alive.
She refuses to meet his eyes as he regards her across the candle flame. He had been fixated on the blood the whole time and now that his eyes are back on her, she wants nothing more than to sink into the floor (actually she wants nothing more than to find herself shooting awake in her bed).
“Thank you,” he says with such sincerity her eyes can do nothing else but find him. He smiles now and she realizes her eyes have betrayed her. “You really think so little of me. If I had wanted you dead, my fangs would be in your neck already.”
She knows he speaks the truth.
But maybe he doesn’t want her dead right this instant – maybe he wants her dead in the next five minutes.
“Come,” he instructs offering her his hand. Once again she ignores it, giving him wide berth as she leaves the candles, the blood for someone else to take care of. He doesn’t seem fazed by her rejection (he has probably expected it). “I will take you home.”
She can take a cab.
She can walk.
She can damn well skip home – as long as he is not her escort.
She gathers her things and tries not to tense too much when his hand returns to the small of her back. He guides her along, taking his time almost as if he is about to deliver her to her father’s doorstep minutes before her curfew.
She doesn’t speak, instead focusing on her goal. The door. The exit. Her freedom.
Rebekah appears, an obstacle in her path.
She nearly screams in frustration. All her emotions are jumbling together inside of her, an eclectic collection of things that don’t mix well. She needs to get out of there sooner rather than later.
“Leaving so soon?” Rebekah asks, her tone so overtly chipper that Bonnie nearly cringes.
“Sister, play nice,” Klaus warns, stepping closer to her as if he is going to play protector and save her from the big bad Rebekah.
Given her current company, she isn’t even sure if she would prefer it to be the other way around.
Rebekah complies with her brother’s wishes. “Thank you, Bonnie,” she drawls and then smiles in such a way that Bonnie almost cowers into Klaus. Almost but doesn’t. “See you in physics class!”
And then she’s off, no doubt to mix her nightly activities with something so uniquely teenage girl that Bonnie wonders just what century Rebekah is truly living in.
She is about to step away from Klaus, step closer to the exit when something, someone, catches her eye. Her breath catches in her throat as she takes him in.