The walls are black, too black and too silent in this mausoleum disguised as a house as each landing of her running feet caused booming echoes around her. Her lush green dress flew behind her as she ran further and further with each step. She came upon a door at the end of this hall, dark and oak, a small glowing golden handle providing the only light. She turned it, pushing the heavy oak door into the room, only to reveal a beautiful woman standing in the middle, her dark curly hair pulled back from her golden skin and forest green eyes. The woman stood there, in an equally lush dress, hers navy, hips jutting out from the side. The woman held out her hand, wide open eyes inviting and she took it, feeling comradeship, feeling kinship.

Feeling a dagger ripe with magic thrust deep into her chest.

She fell, the hard floor slightly less painful than the metal knife stuck in her chest. She could feel the blood pouring out of her wound and stinging tears sprang to her eyes as she looked at the woman, her hands now raised above her, the woman's lips moving at rapid pace. It took her a while but she eventually recognized Latin spilling from them and she raised her own hand, thinking of a spell that would counteract whatever was happening to her that would move the woman away, that would take the knife out her chest.

She heard whispered voices in her head and eventually comprehended what was being said by what seemed like a thousand voices.

"It's for your own good. It's for you own good."

She couldn't help but think how much those words sounded like her beloved grandmother, but Grams would never be a part of this, no matter what.

She struggled to keep her eyes open, each blink heavier and harder to life. She was ready to succumb to the pain, to the death, when she saw a figure above her. He bent down, a finger brushing her hair out of her face. His arm pulled away and then it was back again and she breathed in the metallic scent of blood before it touched her lips. She drank eagerly, her mouth filled with thick red liquid before the darkness overtook her.

"A shame…" came the accented before, the last thing she heard before…

Bonnie startled awake, her eyes shooting open and her body falling upright. She took in gulps of air, trying to stuff more than what could be fit into them. She was sweaty, and Bonnie wiped the droplets of water from her forehead, her neck, her arms.

This was the fifth dream in three weeks. The third one that featured her death. The third one with him.

The time on her phone blink 4:38 AM and she let her body fall back onto the bed, her eyes closed, trying to get some sleep before the phone rang and it was him on the other side.

She tossed and turned, trying to find a cool, comfortable space on the bed. Her eyes started to close, and she could feel her body drifting off, when her phone blared out an old 90s Mariah Carey song, ending all traces of sleep from her body.

"Dammit." She reached out, her hand hitting over the bedside table until she landed on her phone, pulling it from the charger.

"It's late," Bonnie said with a grunt, moving the head scarf from her ears.

"Oh, come now. You've become as much of a night owl as I." She could hear the smile on his voice and it annoyed Bonnie.

"I don't want to talk about the dreams, Klaus."

"Ah, but I believe it's time we do talk about it. Can't keep running from them forever."

"Klaus."

"These dreams aren't just affecting you, love. I too head to sleep and dream of witchlings dying by the hands of their ancestors all in the name of them warning her."

"You don't know that's what's happening."

"No, I don't. Neither do you. Unless you have figured it out."

Bonnie sighed. "I'm pretty sure they're all warning me away from you."

"If they're warning me away from you," Klaus paused and Bonnie heard the phone jostling, "then why do I only show up at the very end of dream, each time to save you from her inevitable death?"

Bonnie gritted her teeth. When she first realized it was Klaus in the dreams it was only because he had called from New Orleans to ask why she had pulled him into them. She had no idea she could pull another person into her dreams, much less someone as powerful as Klaus. But here she was, every few days conferring with the devil himself about dreams that wouldn't leave her alone.

"I don't know, Klaus. What about you? You're older. Haven't you encountered this before?"

"Oh Bonnie, I do believe this is specific to you. You told me yourself you felt the Bennett bond between the women and you. Why would I have encountered that before?"

"Because." Bonnie sighed. She was still in her comfortable groove but now she was wide awake. She tried to remember the dream—the walls, the room, something that would give her a clue. Outside of dark and black she couldn't think of anything that would distinguish them.

"Such an immature response."

"Oh screw you Klaus."

He chuckled and she huffed. A companionable silence ensued, something Bonnie never thought she have with Klaus. But here they were, putting their heads together to figure out these dreams that were consistently putting her in danger and him saving her just in the nick of time.

"Perhaps more sleep will benefit both of us in figuring out what is going on."

Bonnie shrugged even though she was alone.

"Perhaps."

The truth was despite it being Klaus, she was happy there was someone to go through these dreams with. Being within seconds of death, even in a dream, was one of the scariest thing Bonnie had faced in her life, and she had faced more than the normal witch. She hated Klaus, but hearing his voice on the phone was a reassurance that she was indeed still alive, still here.

"Good night, Bonnie."

"Night, Klaus."

She hung up the phone and turned over, hoping her body would fall back asleep, hoping there would be no more dreams tonight.

The soil was cool and moist underneath his feet and he could smell every little thing around—the decay of a dying tree a mile away, the marking of territory the he purposely walked into, the grass underneath his feet. It was refreshing, picking up nature in a way even his vampire abilities didn't allow. Klaus look down, the ground so much closer to him than normal. He saw two paws, thick with gray fur, and realized he was in his wolf form.

It had been a long time since he went into his wolf form.

He began to run, enjoying the way his legs move in synch with one another, the air pumping through his lungs, the heart beating in his chest. It had been so long since he's had this feeling and he wasn't a fool, he knew it'd be a long time before he felt it again. So he wanted to get his fill now.

It was five minutes into this run when he smelled smoke. Like a moth the fire drew him off the course of his run and towards it. The closer he got the more his paws sank deeper into the soil. The closer he got the more he could feel the spark of magic in the area, biting through the fur to his skin. Something told him to continue on despite needing all his strength to lift each foot and longer than it would have normally took, he got to the fire, its flames lifting high into the air. He walked around the perimeter slowly, trying to find clues of how it started when he saw her, dressed in a short black dress, circling the fire away from him, her body ever closer to the red flames. He tried to run, but as he got closer she move faster away from him. He howled, loud and uncouth, wanting to gain her attention.

It didn't work.

He tried running again but it wasn't enough. She was close, so close to the flames, and he could smell the first hints of scorched skin. He didn't want to do it, the process devastatingly painful, but he forced himself to change back to his human self, the broken bones ringing out for anyone within earshot to hear. She was the only one around and the sound was enough to pull her gaze away from the fire. She looked confused, like she didn't know what was happening, her head tilted to the side as if studying his form. She stood like that until his human form was standing upright, his body naked, and she nodded, as if affirming to herself that everything was in place, and turned back to the fire.

He watched as she made to walk into the fire. No longer in his wolf form he sped over to her, wrestling her to the ground when he got there, smothering the flames that had caught her dress.

What the hell are you doing he heard himself say, before tearing into his flesh and tasting his own blood. He placed his wrist to her lips and held it there and watched her reluctantly drink.

Stupid girl he thought before he heard a twig snap and he looked up. His eyes made contact with a woman in front of him, beautiful, dark golden skin, eyes as green as the girl below him. She looked just like an old family friend, one his mother relied on when they were human, who taught her everything she knew.

"Are you," he began, but he knew how these dreams went by now, and he wasn't surprised when he blacked out before he could question who the girl was or who her mother was.

Klaus woke up. Dreams didn't affect him anymore, certainly not after dealing with real life nightmare Mikael every day of his unnatural life. But these were throwing him for a loop. He hadn't had any contact with the Bennett witch for at least four years, having moved to New Orleans and appreciating his life there. He had no reason to look back.

And yet, here he was, Bonnie Bennett featuring in his dreams every few nights of the week.

They talked three days prior and he knew she wouldn't be up to speaking again, not anytime soon, so instead he jotted down what he remembered in the small book he began to keep on the night stand beside him. He was pondering the possibility of asking one of the witches around the Quarter if they knew anything about this, a witch and a vampire experiencing the same dream. Their magic was different, he knew. Most witches around the world relied on magic from nature; Bonnie was in that category. The New Orleans witches relied on ancestral magic. It was different, but some things must overlap, yes?

Klaus finished his notations and decided to get up. He was a vampire, he didn't need sleep. Plus he was starting to be a morning painter, the dawn of a new day bringing about inspiration that he hadn't quite experience since late in the 16th century when he made his home in Italy, a timely but short moment when their family was all together and safe, certain they were far away from their father and his quest to kill them all, him especially.

He was out of bed and pouring a glass of blood from the decanter he kept in the small mini bar in his room when he heard the chime of a text message from his phone. Klaus looked at it and wasn't surprised when he saw the contact Bennett Witch flashing as the sender.

fire is my element

i mean theyre all my element

i can do them all

but fire was my 1st.

this doesn't make sense

He had no intention of answering her back, at least not anytime soon. He had decided to paint the woman that showed up at the end of the dream. Maybe Elijah or Rebekah would know who she was even if he didn't. He had a hunch she was Ayanna's daughter. She looked like her, and those green eyes were a Bennett witch trait. But he needed confirmation and they were the only two he could trust on the issue.

Klaus walked to his adjoining art room, slightly messy with walls starting to fill up with tiny flicks of random paint splatter. He pulled out a new canvas and his paints and began applying colors to his easel.

She ran, the wind blowing her shoulder length curls from her face, the white dress billowing behind her. She looked down and saw dark crusty mud rising on the bottom of the hem and her heart broke just a little. But she couldn't stop. The pain from running in the four-inch heels was nothing compared to what was behind her. She could feel the danger, the cold, deep in her soul and she didn't want it to catch her.

She darted in between trees, around shrubs, avoiding flowers when she could. Nature was her guide and she could practically see the path they had alighted her. She went with it, letting her instinct to trust in it rule.

She was halfway there, wherever there was, when she tripped over a root and fell, her wrists breaking her fall, rocks cutting into the skin, but she didn't fall and kept running. She didn't know what possessed her to continue only that she needed to.

She ran until the path ended in a clearing in the middle of the woods. She walked to the middle of a perfect circle, looking all around her. She didn't see anything, but for the first time that night she stopped and breathed. She was exhausted and tired. So so tired of the dreams and running from whatever this was that was chasing her. She felt a pair of eyes on her and wearily turned around and saw him, standing by himself to the edge of the clearing.

"Klaus." She knew her voice was needy but it didn't matter to her. He always saved her in the end. And for the first time she admitted to herself that she wanted to be saved by him.

"What are you doing, love?"

"I don't know."

He stalked to her, a predator seeing his prey defenseless and out for the taking. She could feel him as he got closer, a link between them there that she had no idea was there before.

"Why are you bleeding, Bonnie?"

The moment the question left him the pain in her hands returned and she looked at them, blood running down and dripping down and joining the dirt below her. She felt a pain at her neck and touched it, more crimson staining her fingers.

"Please," she said, her voice small.

His walk was slow, calculated. He stood in front of her, and wiped away the blood falling from her neck. He tasted it, savoring the taste of her. He looked into her eyes. They were clear.

She turned her head to the side, offering her lifeblood up to him.

"Please," she repeated.

His gums began to ache and his fangs extended. He was on her in seconds, tearing into the flesh of her neck, releasing the sweet-tasting blood from her veins and into his hungry mouth.

He pulled her into his arms and drank, taking in huge gulps of blood, one after the other. What didn't slide down his throat dropped off his face, turning her white dress red.

He drank until the blood just wouldn't fall down his throat and he pulled up, inhaling the air as if his life depended on it. He roared, the beastly sound coming from deep in his lungs. He looked down and saw her looking up at him, her eyes shining. Her feather-like touch guided her blood from around his mouth back it. He sucked on them, drawing her fingers deep inside.

"Take…all…of it." Her whispered words were music to his ears, but even he couldn't believe what she had just said.

"You don't mean—"

"Take…all of it." She guided his head back to her neck and he didn't fight her, his fangs sinking back into the supple flesh, drinking every last drop he could suck out of her. He had the feeling he was being watched but he ignored it, letting his primal vampire nature drink the dying witch dry. He could feel the slowing of her heart beat and tried to pull away. This is what happened in the dreams. He would save her.

But he couldn't. No matter how hard he tried his mouth stayed attached to her neck, drinking all that she gave. His eyes looked up from her in his arms and he saw another woman, a simple yellow dress, the kind he hadn't seen since the 1960s, nodding her head.

Bonnie woke up, the welcoming scent of her grandmother's perfume around her, and knew something was wrong. Outside of the tiny mists she would spray when she was particularly missing her, Bonnie was never around anyone who wore that scent. Ever.

Sunlight shone into her eyes and the bed she was in was too soft, too comfortable. She struggled to open her eyes, wanting to succumb to the drowsiness she felt all over her body. With some effort she lifted up, letting her arms and elbows support her weight, and just cracked open one eye. She saw yellow light and white walls and brown furniture. It was nice, luxurious, but without any personal touches. She tried to move her legs and heard her joints cracking awake. Defeated she laid back into the bed.

"No moving so quickly, little witch. You need time to recover."

The sound of his voice forced her to open both her eyes against their wishes. He was sitting in a chair off the side of the bed and if Bonnie wasn't so woozy she would have sworn there was worry was all over his face.

"Klaus."

"Bonnie."

She turned over to face him and saw his standard black Henley and black jeans dirty and muddled. His green jacket had splotches of red throughout the front.

"What? Klaus?" Bonnie panicked, her eyes flashing down to her own body, and saw her red-stained white dress. It had started to dry a dull color, but the stickiness was still there and clung to her body.

"That, that was real?" She was fully awake now. She threw her legs over the ends of the bed and slowly sat up. "Klaus, that was real? This dream was real? How?"

Klaus shook his head. "I don't know."

Bonnie stood up, wobbly on unsure legs. Her eyes were now wide, all the drowsiness of sleep gone, and she looked around. She felt trapped, as if someone had her in their own reality and wouldn't let her go. She made to move but Klaus stopped her.

"Let me go," Bonnie struggled to get loose. "Someone is messing with me. Messing with us!"

She felt Klaus arms hold her in place, a reassuring hand on her left shoulder.

"We'll figure it out, Bonnie. I give you my word."

Bonnie looked deep into Klaus' eyes. She had no reason to believe him, he had proven time and again he was only out for himself. Yet something told her deep inside he was the only one that understood what she was feeling.

He was the only one she could trust.

a/n: yes, i do understand this is horribly unresolved. i apologize in advance. i've had this in my head since around early september and i have no clue on how to continue it. so this will probably remain a one-shot. but i hope you enjoyed this and i didn't waste your time.