So forget everything I said before about Bella's age and description. The person I chose her to look like is obviously too old to be seventeen, and realistically I don't think Klaus would have started a relationship with a girl only 15 years old. So I've decided instead of the middle sister, she's the older sister of both Salvatore brother's and she was 23 when she was turned. Most women were married earlier in that time but for the sake of the story we'll say Giuseppe was attached to her because she reminded him of his late wife. There. Phew. Now let's get on with this much awaited chapter. Sorry again for how long it's taken. Don't forget to check my tumblr. (Link is on my profile)


Third Person's Point of View

Emma wiped at her eyes as she followed her mother's path, leaving behind the father who'd betrayed her.

Her thoughts twirled around in her mind like a tornado, whipping against the walls of her skull.

She didn't remember anything of her mother; this mysterious woman no one would speak of.

She was forbidden discussion, no one spoke and no one was hurt.

Celia, her maid since she was a baby, had whispered stories to her at bed time, but they'd never been enough.

She'd asked time and again but to no avail until finally, in a fit of rage, her father had struck her.

She'd never been hit, never touched with anything but a gentle hand, and it had shocked her to see this violent side of him.

He'd leaned down and cupped her face –in a way that could have been mistaken for gentle– and told her never to speak of "that person" again.

Their relationship had only gotten worse from there, the trust and love dissipated, and she saw him in a new and terrifying light.

He forgot about the shadows he was supposed to commit his dark deeds in, and grew less and less concerned with hiding his true nature from her.

He was a monster, and she was one as well.

Her anger at her father and what he'd done to her had never truly ceased, but this was the final straw.

To keep the truth of her mother from her for her entire life thus far was a death sentence for the loose hold on what they had once been: father and daughter.

Emma turned a corner and found herself standing amidst numerous parked cars, confused and suddenly afraid.

What was going to happen when she talked to her?

Would she even want to know her?

What if she hurt her father because she was angry with him for making her into a monster?

Would she really care if she hurt her father?

"Emma." She whirled about.

Her mother stood silently before her, smiling in a strangely shy manner.

"Mother." She whispered.

There was no more time to think or ponder what she'd say, this was it, her moment.

"I-"

Her mother darted forward and wrapped her arms around her, crushing her against her chest.

Emma froze; this was the last thing she'd been expecting. A hug?

Nevertheless she found herself sinking into the embrace, her hands hesitantly touching her back.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you." her mother pulled back, and Emma was surprised to see she was crying. "I wanted so badly to find you."

"Why didn't you?"

Her mother shook her head and looked down, "I tried. When I was finally under control I looked everywhere, no one had seen Nicklaus since the early years. I didn't know where to search." She stroked her cheek with a soft hand, her nails barely grazing the skin. "Can you ever forgive me?"

Without realizing it Emma found herself nodding furiously. "Of course."

A wide grin split across her face and they embraced again, and she breathed in the scent of her mother's soft skin.

She smelled like honeysuckle, like the gardens in their home in France.

Goosebumps rose on her arms as a chilled breeze skated over their skin and her mother pulled back, gazing at her curiously.

"Are you cold?"

She nodded sheepishly and her mother reached out and grasped her hand, "Let's get somewhere warm."

Emma nodded, looking down at their joined hands with a disbelieving smile. "I'd like that."


Elena and Damon walked slowly beside the Lockwood's pond, silent.

What was there to say?

This new revelation of Bella's had stunned them, and the fact that there was still so much left unsaid between them created a strange tension.

Their hands bumped and a tingle shot up Elena's arm.

She peeked to see if he'd noticed but Damon kept staring ahead, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

"So…" she finally murmured. "Emma's alive."

Damon made a hum of agreement and she sighed, stopping abruptly where she stood.

"Are we really going to say nothing about this?"

He stopped as well, his back to her. "What is there to say?"

"Everything."

Damon turned, his eyes narrowed coldly. "Okay, let's talk about this. Today you tell me you and Stefan broke up, because of me. When Bella was sick, I saw you and Stefan together."

Elena looked down at her bare toes in the grass, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "All you saw was Stefan and I saying goodbye. Contrary to what you may think I can't just turn my feelings off. We have a history, and I couldn't just let us go without some sort of closure. That was our closure."

He looked uncertain and almost vulnerable, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "That's all?"

"Stefan can't accept me as a vampire. All he wants to do is change me. I can't love someone who can't love me as I am. And he knows I have feelings for you. Feelings, I can't ignore."

There was a brief pause and he stepped forward.

A shiver passed down her spine and he smirked slightly, tugging his arms from the sleeves of his jacket.

"Here." He held it out to her.

"Thanks." She shrugged it on, smiling at the un-Damon-like gesture.

"So, I'm the reason you two broke up."

Elena rolled her eyes, walking forward and bumping shoulders with him. "Try not to look so proud of yourself."

He laughed, a sincere laugh she wasn't quite used to hearing from him; it was nice.

"You know, when we were watching them dance today. It made me think of us, when we danced. I wanted it to be us." She murmured, turning her attention to the reflection of the moon on the water.

Damon looked at her, watching the slight blush rise on her cheeks.

He held out a hand and she turned, eyeing him curiously. "What?"

"Let's dance."

"Here?" she glanced around them, at the dispersing crowd and the band packing up their equipment. "There's no music."

He shrugged, "Who cares?"

She smiled, taking his rough hand in hers.


Rebekah kicked off her wedges and leaned heavily up against the front door, her clutch slipping to the floor from her fingers.

"How was the pageant?"

Celia was reclined on the loveseat in the parlor, her feet propped up in Peter's lap.

He instantly straightened in alert at her presence, nodding respectively as she rolled her eyes.

"Eventful." she muttered simply.

Celia looked up from her novel and on seeing the obvious signs of distress on her face, got to her feet.

"Is everything alright?" she asked worriedly.

"Well," she began. "Bella was at the pageant as well, she met Emma before I could introduce them, and she shoved a stake through Klaus's heart."

Peter barked a laugh which quickly dissolved into a cough as Celia shot him a glare.

"Emma or Bella?" she wondered.

"Bella."

"Surprising." Peter mumbled, sarcasm thick in his voice as he picked up Celia's abandoned book.

"Let's get off of my epic failure of a reunion for a little while." Rebekah begged, flopping into the armchair near the expansive stone fireplace. "Where were you two these past few days?"

Celia and Peter exchanged a quick look.

"We found -" she began.

"More like fell in..."

"A series of tunnels beneath the old house. At first it seemed empty but the further we went..." she trailed off for a moment, searching for the words to describe it. "They were like, mausoleums. The things we'd been forced to leave behind gathered in separate rooms. Someone came back and hid everything."

Rebekah nodded, intrigued, but noticed the shadow that had fallen over her eyes.

"There's more?"

"Yes... bodies. Hundreds of them, in the very back of the caves. More than we could count. It was either a massacre or someone has been using it as a burial site. None were fresh."

Raking her fingernails through her long blonde hair Rebekah let out a heavy sigh, head tilted back upon the headrest.

"I don't have time to figure out what this means, if you want to look further into it be my guest." she waved a hand dismissively.

Celia nodded. "Perhaps. Though I'm slightly more intrigued by what happened with Bella in the woods the other night. You haven't yet told me why she acted so strangely. Or how she's alive for that matter."

"Does it have to be now?" Rebekah moaned, the fatigue of the night rapidly encroaching.

Celia sat up taller, her voice firm. "Please."


Bella held the door as Emma warily stepped inside her rental house, tucking a strand of wavy brown hair behind her ear.

"This is a nice place." she murmured shyly.

Bella smiled, stepping up beside her. "A little gaudy for my taste, but it was all I could get on such short notice. Up until a few weeks ago I was in Hawaii."

Emma grinned excitedly, turning in place. "Hawaii? What's it like there? I've always wanted to go."

"Beautiful. The water's clear as crystal and in some places the sand is pink. I own a house there, you'll come with me someday." she said.

Someday...

The word gave her so many ideas all of a sudden.

This was her daughter, the tiny babe she'd nearly lost her life bringing into the world, all grown up and immortal.

She'd thought her dead up until this night and now they would have forever to get to know one another, someday was so close.

They could go anywhere, do anything, and be anyone.

They could go swimming in Hawaii, mountain climbing in Peru, cliff diving in Italy, the possibilities were endless.

She felt a rush of excitement flow through her veins and worked hard to still the overwhelming grin that threatened to split her face.

"That would be amazing." Emma said dreamily, turning to wander into the living room.

Bella followed at a distance, watching attentively as her eyes roamed over every surface, drinking in the living space.

She felt a pang of shame at the empty glasses and bottles sitting around, rushing to clear them from the coffee table and mantle.

"Sorry about the clutter." she mumbled, a blush flaring up in her cheeks.

Emma watched amusedly as her mother bustled about cleaning up the mess, which for some reason she found endearing and somewhat of a... relief.

It was nice to see she wasn't completely perfect and stoic.

At first her mother seemed completely controlled and calm, nothing like the nervous wreck Emma was desperately trying to keep under wraps.

It was calming to realize she wasn't the only one who was feeling a bit uncomfortable.

How does one go about getting to know their estranged mother?

"It's fine." she murmured.

Bella took a seat on the couch beside her, reaching out hesitantly to touch a hand to her cheek.

"God, you're so beautiful. I always knew you would be."

Emma blushed. "Thanks. So, can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

She sucked in a breath, gathering her wits about her. "Um, how did we get… separated?"

Her mother frowned, folding her legs up beneath her. "You mean he never told you?"

She shook her head. "I wasn't allowed to know."

A rueful smile played on her lips and she looked down, shaking her head slightly. "Typical."

In the quickest and most general way possible she explained everything that had led up to their eventual separation and on, awkwardly stumbling over the shameful details of her turning.

Emma felt pain for her mother, at having been left by her father, at the fear she must have felt upon turning, at the guilt she'd faced post-massacre.

Tentatively, she reached out a pink polished hand, grabbing her mother's.

For the remainder of the night they sat and discussed everything that had transpired in their lives, shameful or not.

Many a tear was shed and for once they found true comfort, in one another.

A mother and daughter, bonded through blood long forgotten, drawn together once more through the cord bound from heart to heart.


Elena walked slowly up the porch steps, her skin crawling as she pulled out the house key, her body sensing the presence of another.

Her hand reached out to the side and wrapped around a throat, shoving a frail human body up against the house.

Her brother's frightened eyes were wide as he gasped in shock.

"Jesus Jeremy!" she released him immediately.

"Jesus Jeremy? How about Jesus Elena?" he rubbed his throat, glaring halfheartedly at her.

"Sorry. You scared me." She turned the key in the lock, stepping aside and closing the door behind him. "What were you doing lurking on the porch?"

He shrugged, and she noticed the familiar depressed frown curving his mouth.

"Did something happen?" she murmured worriedly.

"Got stood up. I mean, it wasn't a date or anything, but we made plans to meet up and she just, didn't show."

"What's her name? I'll throttle her." She joked, bumping his shoulder as they shed their coats and moved into the living room.

"I don't know if you're gonna like it." He murmured, and she was surprised to see he looked genuinly worried.

"Why? Who is she?"

He took a deep breath, "She's Klaus's daughter. Her name's Emma. Look, before you say anything, I know I shouldn't get involved but she's different than the rest of them. If anyone knows how a vampire can turn out to be good despite your best beliefs, it's-"

Elena startled him with a laugh, flopping down onto the couch, leisurely unbuckling her heels.

"What's so funny?"

"Emma isn't only Klaus's daughter, she's Bella's."

This wasn't something he'd expected.

"You mean, Klaus? And Bella?" he frowned, a distant part of him recalling the scathing glare she'd been shooting in his direction at the pageant.

"Yeah. Don't ask, I'm only a witness to the most awkward reunion in history. She didn't stand you up Jer, she met her mom for the first time. If that isn't grounds to bail on a not-date I don't know what is."

He blushed, scratching uncomfortably at his neck.

"Yeah, I guess. Um, did you wanna watch a movie or something? I'm not tired or anything."

She looked up at him, his sister who hadn't been home in who knows how long, and smiled.

"I'd love to."


Klaus Mikaelson sat in an armchair by the fireplace, a bottle of wine in hand.

His fingers stroked the neck of it over and over again, if there was one thing that calmed him it was repetition.

The sound of expensive shoes on the hardwood floor alerted him to the presence of another, and a bitter smile worked its way onto his lips.

"Brother, here to gloat about my fabulous failings as a father? Or would you like to congratulate me on my success with Caroline?" he murmured, beckoning him closer with his refilled glass.

Elijah smiled, gracefully folding onto the matching chair.

"It's shocking to hear you admit you've failed Emma. I'll toast to that."

Nicklaus knocked his head back against the headrest, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I suppose it's been a while since I was in any position to be chastised."

"Not as long as you'd like to think."

He sat up, sighing, handing the nearly empty bottle over to his brother.

"I've loved her the best I could, but you know me. Emotions were never my strong suit."

"They make us weak. Or so I've been told." Elijah murmured sadly.

Klaus nodded, rubbing his hands across his face. "How do I earn her forgiveness? Do I seek it at all?"

"Emma's or Bella's?"

"Both?" he said uncertainly.

Elijah rolled his eyes, taking a very ungentlemanly swig of wine.

"You're a fool."

Klaus glanced at him sharply, "Don't take my uncertainty for weakness. I could still have you killed if I wish."

Elijah simply nodded in acceptance, turning to him with a mask of emptiness.

"Do you suppose your gentle words and truths are what scared her off?" he asked sarcastically, standing silently and disappearing from the room.

Nicklaus stared blankly into the flames in his absence, fingers stroking his chin thoughtfully.

Emma was his daughter, his sweetling, the fruit of his love with Bella.

She was all he could love, more than his siblings anyway.

They'd been thick as thieves for a few years, but after he'd struck her for continually inquiring about Bella things had changed.

She'd withdrawn from him, and he'd stopped caring about hiding the darker side of himself.

If she was going to grow and one day become a vampire why hide her eventual nature?

It was only logical to show her what she would one day become, or so he had thought that was the best approach.

For the second time in all their years together Celia had spoken out against him, claiming he'd never truly loved anything, not even Bella.

He'd nearly ripped her head from her shoulders, only Peter had stopped him, and just barely.

The woman was the closest thing to a mother Emma would come to, or so he'd thought until a week ago.

A meeting between Bella and Emma had obviously become inevitable when he'd learned she was in Mystic Falls, he just hadn't anticipated such violent reactions.

He'd assumed there would be arguments, screaming even, but a stake to the chest?

A tad hasty.

Now he sat in his virtually empty home, staring into the flames of the fireplace, wondering when he'd gone wrong?

Had it started with his infatuation with Bella?

Or had it been the moment he'd decided there was no time to go back for her under Michael's siege?

He'd thought he'd been doing the right thing for Emma, allowing her to keep at least one parent, for her knew if he'd gone back they would both undoubtedly be dead.

He dropped his head into his hands, feeling what he seemed to recognize as guilt, for the first time in hundreds of years.


Damon walked into the boarding house to a strange, off-putting smell.

Cold and antiseptic, it reminded him of death, or the fragrance of old people in a hospital.

He took cautious steps into the hall, leaving the door ajar behind him.

This wasn't a scent he recognized for sure, and as he stumbled into the great room his eyes widened.

The furniture, the rugs, the paintings, everything was stripped and thrown around the room.

It was a recreation of Angela's landing multiplied by ten.

Nothing had been spared, not the wet bar, not the books on the shelves, nor the painting above the mantle.

His fists shook in anger at the damage, barely taking note as Stefan stepped up beside him.

"What the hell?" he heard him mutter.

With a growl he whirled up the stairs, nearly tripping over a freshly-broken step.

The scent was strongest at Bella's door, and he whipped it open with a flourish.

He nearly took a step back.

Whoever had been here had stayed in her room the longest, and done a wonderful job of redecorating.

Her bed was in pieces, feathers covering nearly every inch of the floor from her down comforter and pillows, and most startlingly the walls were gouged with nail marks.

"Shit." Stefan slipped past him into the room, picking a miraculously unharmed photograph from the floor.

It featured Bella and the two of them, dressed up in Halloween costumes.

A witch, a vampire, and a doctor respectively.

"Who the hell did this?" he looked up at his brother, shaking his head in confusion.

"I don't know. But when I find out, I'm gonna kill them."


Edward bounced on the balls of his bare feet, arms crossed over his chest.

The scent had been strong in that bedroom, so strong it had driven him to a fit, but it was even stronger here.

The gaudy oversized mansion wasn't one he recognized, but the smell of freesias and fresh flowwers overwhelmed him.

A peel of laughter touched his ears and he smiled, slinking back into the shadows.

She had company.

He would have to wait until she was alone.

Only a little longer, he assured himself, just a little.


wow, has it been a while or what? im really sorry for such a long delay, but id been helplessly roadblocked until like, a day ago. anyway, i know this ones not that great and i apologize it was really just meant to be a filler, kind of a 'result of the pagaent' kind of chapter. anyway ill try and be quicker from now on, maybe do shorter chapters so i get them up faster. love you guys and please review!