The Howling ▹ Klaus Mikaelson

14.

THE HOWLING.

14. CHAPTER FOURTEEN : suppose the body did this to us; made us afraid of love (n.e)

She wasn't potentially bleeding out anymore, more of a couple drops of blood on her shirt, but none of them were out of the woods yet. And, although, she was slowly healing, Rowan would still wince at the feeling in her stomach. Was it guilt? Rowan humorlessly shook her head at the thought. She didn't feel guilty for wanting Klaus and his family dead. Klaus turned her brother into a hybrid, inadvertently stealing the only remaining member of her pack, killed Jenna, and made Stefan turn off his humanity. He had made their lives hell. Of course, they all had a part in making their own lives hell, but only with choices they had to make because of Klaus.

Was it the sickening realization of what they were all capable of?

Was this twisted feeling in her stomach just a reminder that, although, they claim to be the good guys in this particular situation, they're resorting to the ways of the villain?

Rowan never claimed the title 'good guy' or 'villain.' She's not only a specific side. She's on her own side. Killing Klaus will break Tyler's sire bond. Her brother will come back, not to be her beta, and that's not something she wants, she just wants him back. Killing Klaus would set all of the hybrids free from his reign. Killing Klaus may form a crack in her heart, but she doesn't care.

It's kind of ridiculous really. The man that had caused so much hurt had somehow snaked his way into her head, and wrapped himself in her veins. The murder of one would be the downfall of all, and if she was thrown into that pot, oh well. It's about the bigger picture. Just because her pupils would dilate when she saw Klaus, those feelings fade. The guilt and pain would fade slowly just as her stomach was slowly healing. So she focused on the bigger picture. Feelings or not, the world was better off without the Originals in it.

So Rowan did what she could; she grabbed a knife from Alaric's supply, and she stripped the White Oak wood until it had a sharp point at the end. She blew the excess dust from it and nodded to herself.

"This needs to have a sharper point," Stefan said to Damon, bringing Rowan from her reverie.

Damon took the stake. "Got it."

"We have stakes to kill an Original. I'm not going to miss because you can't whittle."

"I said, I got it. Stop micromanaging," Damon quarreled.

Rowan could feel Stefan leaning over her shoulder examining the stake she had. Blowing the dust away one last time, she held it up to the light. Stefan rose an impressed eyebrow. "Nice," he complimented.

"I was in Girl Scouts. If you want me to whittle a duck, I can do that too," Rowan said, sarcasm in her voice.

"Duck sounds good, although I would love to see you in one of those outfits," Damon smirked. Rowan scrunched her nose. "Kidding of course."

"No, you weren't."

"No, I wasn't."

Laughing lightly, Rowan snatched the stake from his hands and began sharpening the end. "See, not so hard."

Rolling his eyes, Damon snarked, "that's not a very nice thing to say when you're holding a guy's wood."

A snort. "Hey, I call it like I see it."

Alaric cleared his throat, gaining the two's attention. "If you guys got this under control, I'm going to call the sheriff." He put on his jacket. "I'm going to turn myself in."

"No, you don't," Damon deadpanned.

"I have a homicidal alter ego. Unlike some people in this room I would like to take some responsibility for the people I've killed," Alaric snapped. Rowan shook her head. It wasn't Alaric who'd been killing people, it was another side to him. A darker side. Someone who was willing to kill her and Meredith because he believed they were guilty of something.