A/N: I tried Sangria tonight. Sangria is good. The Sangria told me to post things on the internet, so I did. Hopefully it's all coherent, grammatically correct and sober-sounding. Guess I'll find out in the morning!

A Rude Awakening

Kol didn't feel the dagger as it slipped out of his heart; he hadn't been under its curse long enough to become aware of his surroundings or understand the passage of time outside of himself. The first thing he felt as he returned to consciousness was the wetness of blood on his lips, and the massive crick in his back from the length of time he'd lain still and stiff in the padded but still uncomfortable coffin in which his brother often stored him.

Licking his lips, he was rewarded with more blood dripping slowly into his mouth, and he sat up instantly, snatching the bag from the hand that held it and slugging the whole thing in four massive gulps. Once every last drop was squeezed from the plastic, he tossed it in no particular direction, then turned to take in the familiar sight of his bastard brother standing beside his resting place, arms folded, waiting for him to get his wits back. This time, Niklaus's brow was furrowed further than usual, and the set of his jaw reminded the younger Original of the nights when Mikael would be so close that they could nearly smell him, and Klaus's whole focus was trained on outwitting their nemesis.

"Let me guess," Kol drawled slowly, "you bloody idiots woke Silas and are now hopelessly out of your depth."

"Close," Klaus gritted out, "but you're off by a year or so, little brother. We made that mistake, paid for it dearly, and dealt with it severely—and permanently. I'm afraid the situation since then has become significantly more complicated."

"Huh," Kol muttered. "Well, I suppose next time you might listen to me before doing something so utterly and obviously moronic."

"I just might," Klaus laughed humorlessly. Kol sobered. It was fundamentally unlike his proud brother to admit when he was mistaken, or suggest that he might actually take advice from someone, especially someone younger than himself.

Something was very, very wrong.

"What's been happening since that little blonde strumpet daggered me, then?" he asked lightly, testing the waters. It was clear Klaus needed something, and badly.

"That little blonde strumpet saved your miserable life," Klaus hissed slowly. "Nearly at the cost of her own. The siblings Gilbert were armed with the White Oak Stake and had designs on killing you and your entire line to complete the Hunters' Mark in one fell swoop. They would have succeeded too, had Caroline not interfered."

Kol swung his legs over, and hopped out of the casket to stand on the concrete floor of Klaus's basement.

"I suppose I shall have to thank her, then," he shrugged, still wanting to get to the point and find out what lovely trouble everyone had gotten themselves into, so that he could decide whose side to be on.

"Oh, you're about to," Klaus responded, tossing him another blood bag and nodding towards a change of clothes. "Clean up and meet us in the living room, little brother."

-0-

Twenty minutes later, fed, changed, stretched and mostly acceptable-looking, Kol sauntered into Klaus's front room, a swing in his step and a grin on his face. It was so rare that he had the upper hand in anything regarding his siblings, and the fact that Klaus was so upset and so clearly about to ask him for his help made him feel giddy with power.

"Morning, my lovelies," he greeted everyone, before stopping to take in just who "everyone" was.

There were two doppelgangers in the room; Elena was standing at the window, peering through the curtains, while Katherine stood, all heels and curls and leather, looking down at someone else on the couch. Elijah sat on the loveseat opposite, the empty space beside him holding a purse that could only be Katherine's. Rebekah sat on the couch that Katherine observed, and the blonde head beside her was Caroline's; she seemed to be the object of the room's collective focus. Klaus sat on Caroline's other side, and Matt leaned against the wall, arms folded, looking uncharacteristically serious.

Then Kol's senses honed in on Caroline, and he rounded the couch to get a better look at her.

His eyes widened, his eyebrows soaring as he took a step closer, her scent confirming what his ears and eyes had already plainly told him.

Slowly, he shifted his gaze to his brother, whose face held the signature combination of concern and conniving that meant one of the few people he loved was in great danger, and he was about to kill it with fire, or whatever else it took to make it go away.

"What. The bleeding hell. Did I miss?" Kol demanded slowly.

Katherine snorted from beside him.

"Would you like the events in magnitude order, or chronological?" Elijah asked from behind him.

"Start from the beginning," Kol responded, all trace of laughter gone. This wasn't a question of picking sides anymore. This was an impossible thing, and as a witch trapped in a vampire's body for over a thousand years, he never could resist an impossible thing…

A/N: Super short, I know, but the sangria was being really insistent! It's more a prologue than a chapter anyhow.

Also, I got a grown-up job! Like, in an office, for 40 hours a week! I have a cubicle and have to wear heels and dress pants instead of jeans and tennis shoes! (I am, and have always been, more comfortable in heels than in flats and in dress pants and skirts than in jeans, so formal clothing is actually a huge plus.) So, that's exciting! I actually get to not work on weekends! So, for example, I can drink the alcohol on a Saturday and not have to go in to work on Sunday! It's amazing!