Body & Soul - Klaus Mikaelson

Ten

"You did what?" Stefan demands.

"Um," I lick my lips, "Partially suffocated myself so I could go to a weird dream to see the man that I saw the last time I went, who happens to be my Mate."

His eyes narrow at me, "Are you crazy?"

I internally groan, "Do I have to listen to this lecture?"

"Yes!" Stefan shouts, "You could have died!"

I nod, "But I didn't, and to be honest of our list of stupid plans, this one wasn't that bad."

Stefan stares at me and for a second I think his brain might fall out his ears. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you have let me do it?"

"Absolutely not."

I shrug, "Exactly my point. We all take risks."

"Calculated risks, Felicity," Stefan insists.

I roll my eyes annoyed. "You're acting like I didn't think it through." Which I did, and I'm good now. A little breathless when I woke up this morning, but totally fine. And the only reason he found out was because he heard me gasp when I woke up. Because once again, he was in my house without my permission.

"You didn't," Stefan whispers. "What if you actually died? We wouldn't have been able to save you, or heal you."

My eyes fall to the floor at his worry, "Ok, I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

Stefan nods, taking the answer. "Ok."

"I'll be downstairs," I tell him, "Attacking Elijah's head."

He gives me one more stiff smile before nodding. I grip my bag closer to my body as I find myself in the Salvatore basement and dungeon. I slowly walk down the hall until I find Elijah's cell. And as I open the door, I find myself hoping that he will be awake, leaning against the wall, and in desperate need of blood. But I have no such luck.

I walk around his body, staring at the gray veins that line his body. I throw my bag against the wall, kneel behind his head. I glance at the dagger, resisting the urge to rip it from his chest and throw it to the side. I may have promised Damon I'd search his mind, but I didn't say for what.

I shake my head, setting my hands on either side of his face. I take a deep breath closing my eyes, pushing into his mind.

I stare down the white corridor, frowning at the neatest in Elijah's mind. I've never seen anyone organize their mind like this. Normally it's a jumble, just flashes of memories that come and go. I glance down the other side of the hall, an old red door rattles on its hinges. I take a step towards it, curious about what it contains.

"I wouldn't," Elijah's voice stops me.

I turn again, glancing back down the other end of the hallway. He looks at me, still perfectly pristine. His suit coat still draped around him, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants. His brown hair is pushed from his face. And to my surprise, he doesn't seem mad at all. He takes a few steps towards me, his shoes echoing across the floor.

"I keep the dark memories in there, I believe. Little rusty on the whole memory organization. There are so many of them." He mumbles giving me a soft smile.