Work Text:
Jeremy Gilbert caught the stake and stabbed Kol straight through the heart with it.
Kol screamed.
The sound was unlike anything Klaus had heard from his brother in over a thousand years. Raw. Agonized. Kol screamed as fire erupted from where the white oak stake pierced his chest, flames spreading across his body with terrifying speed. The fire consumed him, and Kol continued to scream as he staggered through the kitchen.
Klaus stood frozen at the open doorway, his body stopped by the threshold he couldn't cross. His brother was burning alive just feet away and there was nothing, nothing, he could do but stand there and watch.
Kol fell to the floor.
The screaming stopped.
Klaus stared at the charred remains collapsing onto the Gilbert kitchen floor. The flames still licked at what was left of Kol's body, but his brother was silent now.
Dead.
The word stuck in Klaus's skull like a bad hangover. Kol was dead. The sibling he had spent centuries protecting and punishing in equal measure was gone, wiped off the earth by a couple of insignificant teenagers.
The doppelganger turned around. Her eyes found Klaus standing in the doorway.
"What did you do?"
Klaus heard his own voice, but it was a ragged, unfamiliar sound, like a king who no longer recognized his kingdom. He felt dizziness creep up behind his eyes, unable to reconcile the blackened shape on the tile with the brother he’d known and adored for ten centuries.
"We didn't have a choice," the doppelganger said, her voice rushing to defend, to justify. "He was trying to cut off Jeremy's arm!"
The words filtered through the shock and Klaus felt something ignite inside his chest, a hot, consuming fire. "Lies!" The word tore out of him. "He never would've gotten inside if you hadn't have set a trap for him."
It was so obvious. They'd planned this. They'd lured Kol here, invited him in, and then murdered him while Klaus had been occupied. They'd executed his little brother.
"You said you were going to put him down too," the doppelganger argued.
Fury exploded through Klaus's entire body. Yes, he'd wanted Kol neutralized. Controlled. Put down the way he'd put Kol down before. With a dagger! Reversible and temporary. But this? This was permanent. This was final. This was his brother being dead.
"I was going to make him suffer on my terms!" Klaus felt the rage vibrating in every syllable. He let out a breath thick with the stench of his brother’s burned flesh. "I'm going to burn this house to the ground. And then, when you try to flee for your lives, I'll kill you both without blinking."
He would make them burn the way their stake had made Kol burn. Would make them scream the way Kol had screamed. Would watch them die the way he'd just watched his brother die. And he wouldn't regret it for even a second.
"You kill us, you'll never get to the cure," the hunter said. His voice shook but he stood his ground. "You'll never be able to make any more hybrids."
Right. The cure, the hybrids, the reasons he had given them for his cooperation and support in finding Silas's tomb. He felt something cold and absolute settle over him. Did they really think any of that mattered? Did they think he cared about some mythical cure or a hybrid army when his brother, his baby brother, was in ashes on their floor?
"You really think I care for an instant about my bloody hybrids?" The words came out with a lethal, serrated edge. "I want the cure so I can destroy it. I would've killed you all the second we dug it up, but now I'm just gonna watch you burn instead." It was the truth. The cure didn't matter. The hybrids didn't. Not really. Not compared to this. Not compared to whom they'd just taken from him. They deserved all the torture and death he was about to inflict upon them.
But suddenly pain erupted through Klaus's body without a warning. Agony ripped through him, his bones felt like they were splintering, his muscles seizing. Klaus fell to the ground, crying out as the magical assault drove him to his knees.
Through the haze of pain, he saw the Bennett witch walking past him, he had been so distracted by his hatred, that he hadn't even registered her approaching them. She stepped over the threshold, as her magic still tore through his body with the casual cruelty witches always displayed when they felt especially righteous.
"Invite him in," she said.
Klaus tried to speak, tried to threaten, tried to do anything, but the pain stole his voice. He could only kneel there, his body wracked with agony, as the doppelganger and the hunter stared at the witch confused.
"Do it!" the Bennett witch commanded.
Klaus managed to push himself up, getting to his feet even as the magical torture continued. He wouldn't stay down. Wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
"Come in," Jeremy Gilbert said.
The barrier dissolved. Klaus fell forward as invisible hands grabbed him, the witch's magic wrapping around his body like iron chains. His legs moved against his will, a puppet to her dark rhythm, as he was hauled through the living room, toward the kitchen where Kol's body lay, ready to strike them down.
Then he slammed into an invisible barrier.
His body stopped abruptly between the living room and kitchen, hitting a wall that wasn't there. Klaus could see past it, could see Kol's charred remains on the floor, could see the hunter and the doppelganger standing over his brother's corpse.
No.
Klaus slammed his weight against the empty air. His fist hit the barrier with enough force to shatter bone, but the invisible wall held firm. He struck it again, claws scraping uselessly against the shimmering resistance.
The hunter bent down. Klaus watched, helpless, as Jeremy Gilbert grasped the white oak stake and pulled it from what was left of Kol's chest. The weapon that had killed his brother. The weapon that had ended a thousand years of existence in moments.
They were taking it. Possibly to hurt another member of his family.
Klaus battered the air faster, desperately, trying to break through. The doppelganger and the hunter ran for the door, the stake clutched in Jeremy Gilbert's hand. Klaus continued pounding, his fists moving with all his hybrid strength, but the barrier held.
"Witch, you can't do this to me," he growled.
The words came out sounding desperate, not at all what he'd intended. Not the threat he'd meant to make. Almost... almost like a plea in his own ears. Because the Bennett witch was stopping him. Stopping him from getting justice for Kol. Trapping him in this house with his little brother's body just feet away and completely unreachable.
"You have no idea what I can do now," the witch said. Her voice was both cold and smug. There was no mercy there. No understanding. She knew exactly what she was doing, knew she was trapping him here with his brother's corpse.
The rage surged up again, desperate and all-consuming. "I will hunt all of you to your end!" Klaus assaulted the barrier, harder now, his fists moving in a rapid, violent blur. "Do you hear me? Do you!?"
But they were already leaving. The doppelganger, the Bennett witch, the hunter, all walking away. Walking away from Kol's body like it meant nothing. Like they hadn't just murdered someone who had existed in the world for over a thousand years. Like they hadn't just killed his brother.
The door closed.
Silence settled over the house like ash over a forgotten grave.
Klaus stood at the barrier, his fists still raised, his breath coming in harsh gasps. No heartbeats except his own. No sounds except the settling of the house around him.
And Kol's body on the floor.
Klaus slowly lowered his fists. He turned towards the kitchen and stared through the barrier at what remained of his brother.
Ash. Charred bone. Nothing left of the person who'd been there moments ago. Nothing left of Kol.
Klaus's hands traced the barrier. Futilely. There were no weak spots. By the virtue of expression magic, the Bennett witch was strong enough to keep him here, keep him trapped, keep him separated from his brother by mere feet of space he couldn't cross.
How long would the spell last? Hours? Days? However long it took for the magic to fade, Klaus would be stuck here, staring at Kol's remains.
Unable to reach him. Unable to move him.
Unable to do anything but stand here and look at what was left.
His hands fell to his sides. The house was completely quiet. Empty. Just Klaus and Kol's corpse and the suffocating silence between them.
Kol had called him. Less than an hour ago, Kol had been on the phone, furious and paranoid, convinced Klaus was part of the plot against him. And Klaus had denied it. Had told Kol he didn't know what he was talking about.
'I'm going to rip off Jeremy's arm and kill Elena just for sport. Then I'm coming for you.'
Those had been Kol's last words to him. A threat. A promise of violence. And Klaus had been annoyed by it, had hung up. He'd left Kol alone.
Left him to face the doppelganger and the hunter by himself.
Left him to die.
Klaus stared at his brother's remains. He'd thought there would be time. Thought he'd dagger Kol, put him down for a while, let things cool off. Then eventually, a decade or a century later, he'd pull the dagger out and they'd start over.
But there was no starting over now. The white oak stake meant vulnerability and finality; it didn't leave room for second chances.
Kol was gone.
Klaus thought of his brother as he'd been when they were human. Young. Funny. Reckless even then. Always pushing boundaries, always testing limits. Then they'd been turned into vampires and Kol's recklessness had been amplified. Or perhaps it had always been there and immortality had simply removed the constraints.
Kol had never been afraid of Klaus. Not the way Finn had occasionally been. Not like Elijah, when he worried that Klaus had lost all humanity. Not the way even Rebekah sometimes was. Kol had always pushed back, always challenged, always refused to bend.
It had infuriated Klaus.
And now Kol was dead and Klaus would never be infuriated by him again and that hurt more than anything else he could possibly imagine.
Dead. Kol was dead. Just like that. Ashes on the floor. Dead. Dead. Gone.
Klaus threw himself against the barrier once again. The impact was soundless, a muffled thud of flesh against concentrated magic, yet it echoed through the empty house, even as the barrier didn't budge. His brother's body lay just beyond his reach and Klaus couldn't even move him off this kitchen floor and give him the dignity someone like Kol deserved.
He couldn't even call for another witch to free him, or his siblings to help Kol, because he hadn't brought his phone. Not that Elijah or Rebekah would even be able to enter the house. Not that he was certain they would even come, considering they were both out fraternizing with the enemy right now.
Klaus knew, he would escape eventually. The spell would fade, the barrier would fall, and he be able to walk out of this house.
But Kol would still be dead.
And Klaus would carry the memory of his brother's screams for the rest of eternity.
He'd told the doppelganger he would burn the house down. That he'd kill them both. That he'd make them pay. And he would.
But, standing here now, staring at Kol's remains, he knew that no amount of revenge would change anything. It wouldn't bring Kol back. Wouldn't undo what had been done.
Kol was gone. And Klaus had failed to protect him.
The rage was still there, burning in his chest. The need for vengeance still consumed him. But underneath it all was something else. Something darker and heavier.
The familiar, hollow, aching weight of grief.
Klaus had lost siblings before. Had watched Henrik die. Had mourned by himself when he'd learned that Finn was gone.
But this was different. This time he'd been there. This time he'd watched it happen, had seen every moment of Kol's death and been powerless to prevent it. Kol hadn't died because he'd lacked werewolf-blood in his veins, like Henrik. He hadn't wanted to die, like Finn.
This time there was no one to blame but the people who'd done this. And himself for not being fast enough, not being there, not protecting his brother the way he should have.
Klaus cracked his knuckles against the barrier. The barrier held. Kol stayed dead. And Klaus stayed trapped. Temporarily in this house. Forever in Kol's death.
Klaus could hear the hum of the refrigerator, the chirping of birds outside in the trees, even children playing football somewhere in the neighborhood. It was a mundane, domestic sound that had no right to exist in the same room as his brother’s ashes. But there was nothing he could do now but wait for the barrier to fall and give him a chance to take his brother home.