The Rarest Rose

Bringing Out The Dead

Stefan entered the dimly lit living room of the boarding house, his eyes immediately locking on Klaus and Juliet. Klaus lounged casually in a chair, a glass of amber liquid in his hand, while Juliet sat comfortably on his lap, also holding a drink. Their casual, almost celebratory demeanor grated against the tension radiating from Stefan. The music blared around them, loud enough to make conversation difficult, but Klaus seemed completely unbothered by it. Stefan moved quickly to the stereo, turning the volume down with an impatient flick of his wrist.

"What are you doing here?" Stefan demanded, his voice cold and sharp.

Klaus barely glanced in his direction, taking a leisurely sip of his drink before answering. "Enjoying our stalemate."

Stefan's expression tightened as he stepped closer. "What do you want?"

Klaus sighed as if Stefan's question was tedious. "The question is, what do you want? My hybrids left town, as you demanded, so please tell me what I need to do to get my family back."

Stefan's jaw clenched, but his eyes were hard and unyielding. "Well, see... Klaus... I'm not negotiating."

Juliet tilted her head slightly, her voice cutting in smoothly. "And you understand that holding them indefinitely is the same thing as dropping them in the ocean?" She gave a slight smile, her tone mocking.

"No, no," Stefan retorted, meeting her gaze. "You guys leave Mystic Falls, and then give me a call in a few years, and we'll talk."

Klaus's casual demeanor slipped for a moment, his patience wearing thin. "I can give you another chance. Just one more. Let's make a reasonable deal."

Stefan's face hardened further, his voice low and filled with threat. "Or what? You make one move, and I will drop—"

Juliet let out a soft, amused laugh, cutting him off again. "Yes, right. Crazy Stefan." She met his eyes with a smirk, a hint of disdain in her tone. "How's that working out for you? Any friends left?"

Her words struck a nerve, the smirk never leaving her face as Stefan stood there, tense, his fists clenched at his sides. Klaus watched the exchange in silence, his lips curling into a slight smirk, knowing that Juliet's words had hit their mark.

~~**~~

Later, Damon entered the dimly lit room, in the basement of the old witch house, pausing as the heavy scent of burning candles filled the air. The flickering light cast eerie shadows on the walls, but the coffins—where they should have been—were invisible. He stopped, sensing something off. Then he heard the faint sound of footsteps echoing from behind.

Klaus entered, his presence looming like a dark cloud. "What took you so long?" he sneered, his tone dripping with condescension. "Hiding behind your witchy friends. And in squalor, no less. It was only a matter of time before we found out where you and your brother were holding my family."

Suddenly, the flames of the candles flared violently, and Klaus dropped to one knee, clutching his head in agony as a sharp cry of pain escaped him. His whole body convulsed under the pressure of an unseen force.

Damon smirked, watching him writhe. "Insulting a bunch of dead witches... not smart. I made the exact same mistake the first time I came in here."

Klaus's face twisted in pain; his voice strained as he forced out words. "Well, you know, the funny thing about witches is, that living or dead, they care about their own. A hundred dead witches have a thousand living descendants..."

The pain surged again, cutting his sentence short. He screamed, clutching at his head, before throwing his voice into the room, addressing the invisible spirits he knew were listening. "And I have no problem killing every last one of them if I don't get my coffins back! As we speak, my Paramour (Means, his lover, a.k.a. Juliet) is prepared to end the Bennett line."