Remember

Part 1

You groaned, blinking your eyes open. You went to rub them, but you couldn't move your hands. Wide awake now, you looked down and saw your wrists were bound to the chair you were sitting on. Panicking, you looked around, trying to figure out where you were. A dark room.

You swallowed hard, trying to control your breathing. You had to stay calm if you were gonna get out of here alive. You took a deep breath. What was that noise?

Footsteps. Coming towards you.

You slumped in your chair and closed your eyes. Maybe if you pretended to still be unconscious, they would leave you alone. You heard a door open directly in front of you.

"They're still out," someone growled after a moment. "How strong was the stuff you used?"

"Strong enough and then some apparently," another replied. "It shouldn't be too much longer before they wake up, though."

"Then we can really have fun," the first person snickered.

You heard two pairs of footsteps leave the room. The sound of the door latching echoed through the room.

You did not want to find out what their version of "fun" would be. You felt your bindings with your fingertips–rope. That explained why it burned when you wiggled. You started tugging, hoping to somehow loosen the knot enough to undo it.

A shout came from outside the door after a while. You worked at the rope harder. When the sounds stopped, you froze. Footsteps approached you again, so you slumped again. The door opened, and the footsteps came closer, stopping directly in front of you. They slowly went behind you. It took all your concentration not to flinch when you felt fingertips brushing your wrists. The rope fell away. The footsteps went in front of you again.

"Y/N," a voice said. You didn't move. "Y/N, love, wake up."

You jerked your knee up. The figure–it was too dark to properly see–sprang back. You shot to your feet and bolted out the door. The person grabbed your wrist. You screamed.

"Y/N!" They turned you to face them and grabbed your other wrist, keeping your arms down.

"Y/N, stop, it's okay, it's alright, you're safe, love," they said. "It's me."

You stopped struggling and glared at them–a blonde man. "Hello Me, I'm Let Go Of Me Before I Knee You In The Groin."

He released your wrists. You stepped back. Watching his face, you felt like you should know him. He seemed familiar, but you couldn't place it.

"You don't recognize me, do you?" He asked.

"Should I?" You replied.

He looked away.

"Is it safe to assume you just saved me?" You asked.

He nodded.

"Thank you, then."

The silence was awkward.

"I don't suppose you know how to get out of here?" You asked.

He nodded and led you outside. You took a deep breath and thanked him again.

"Let's get you home," he said.

Any other time you would've declined leading a perfect stranger to your home. Considering what just happened to you, however, you decided to at least let him lead you to the city.

You walked the whole way. The distance wasn't as great as you'd thought, actually, which was a bit of a relief. As soon as you saw Rousseau's you told him you knew the way from here.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

You nodded.

"No, I meant are you sure you know where you're going?"

You furrowed your brows. "Of course I know where I'm going, I've lived at the same place in New Orleans for five years."

"Where did you live before?"

You opened your mouth to answer, and realized you couldn't. Not because you suddenly didn't know how to speak, but because you couldn't remember. At all.

You frowned. "That doesn't matter."

"It matters if you can't remember," he said.

"What makes you think I don't remember?"

"Because you don't recognize me, Y/N."

"Because I don't know you." Something dawned on you. "Wait, how do you know my name? And why don't I know yours?"

He sighed. "I am Klaus Mikaelson."

You snorted. "Yeah, right. Don't give me that look," you added, seeing his slightly offended expression. "Everyone knows that the Mikaelson family is a legend. They don't exist as anything more than an origin story for vampires."

"Trust me, love, we're real," he said.

"Prove it, then."

He looked around and led you around a corner where no one could see you. After checking for people one last time, he looked at you. You cursed and stepped back.

His eyes were gold, like a werewolf's. Where the whites of his eyes should've been was black. Equally black veins crawled under his eyes.

"Believe me now?" Klaus asked, his face back to normal.

You nodded.

"Come with me," he said. "I can help you."

"Why?" You asked. "Why do you want to? Say I do have amnesia. Why me?"

"Because we know each other, and the man who kidnapped you used you to get to me."

You didn't respond. On one hand you knew something wasn't right. You couldn't remember anything past waking up in that chair. On the other hand, this man–Klaus Mikaelson, of all people–was a complete stranger to you. You didn't seem to have a choice but to go with him.

"Fine," you grumbled, hoping you didn't just make a huge mistake.