Caroline tinkered with the manual radio, adjusting the dial before settling with an old 80's station as she coasted along the highway, passing a couple truckers. Large lensed sunglasses concealed her cold hair while her hair was confined in a tight pony tail while the wind scraped against the glass windshield and over her head, disturbing her loose banes.

She had stopped a few miles back at a diner, gathering her wits with trembling hands as she tried to find Marjorie's emergency number. Marjorie should be notified of her sister's slaying and the possible fate may come to her, also, if Klaus assumed Caroline would notify her but that's what tore at her. Was there a chance Marjorie could be safe if Caroline kept her out of the loop? She's still alive and that was probably due to the fact she had never met the young vampire, unlike her younger sister whose fate had met a bloody demise. But, if she did call her, Caroline contemplated… then perhaps Marjorie would be prepared.

Eau Claire, WI, Brady's Bar.

Caroline settled in her booth, phone in hand, deleting ever missed call from Klaus –making a stunning total of 17 after her first 'conversation' with the bastard, if it could be called anything along those lines. She then focused on Adeline's stories and the old building they had lived in during the industrialization period of Boston, and how Marjorie converted the old run-down complex into a historic tavern. There was a framed photo on the wall of the brown-bricked building, 5 sequence-numbered addresses along the door side but her memory was vague.

3…5…7…or was it an 8….3…5…something…6….8.

She diverted herself from her thoughts and put in a few words on the Google search engine of her smart phone.

Historic Tavern; Boston; Marjorie; Chaluner;

After a few failed attempts, she found a promising result.

'Chaluner Tavern,' Authentic Irish grill & bar, registered with American Historic Properties Association.

A brief description of the history of the slum-complex turned successful, authentic Irish experience restaurant followed, emphasizing on the significant effect its location had in preserving oldest and most preserved predominant Irish communities in the historic city of Boston. A number and address was listed underneath.

35948 North Street (previously Ann Street during the nineteenth century, Adeline had told her.) Boston, MA.

Caroline punched in the link to the number of the place and waited only for a second before a thick Boston accent answered bluntly.

"Chaluner Tavern," (CALL-OO-NUH TAW-VAW-N), "this is Pat speaking. What can I do for you today?"

Caroline sucked in her bottom lip and prepared herself by stepping outside, isolating herself by the corner far from the entrance. "Hi, uh, is a Marjorie Chaluner there?"

"Who's asking," he gruffly retorted.

"Caroline, Caroline Forbes. I have some news about her sister…Adeline…"

There was a brief pause before the phone was exchanged to someone else. "Hello," said a sharp female voice. Caroline stiffened. Adeline's descripting on her strict sister wasn't far off. "What about my sister?" She demanded.

Caroline hesitated. Adeline had described her sister as the matriarch in the place of their mother after a wave of tuberculosis took her from the family. Marjorie was hard but strong, but even Caroline doubted she'd handle the news of her beloved sister's perish well.

"Caroline, is it? Spit it out woman, I don't have all day." She demanded once more but Caroline could detect the ounce of anxiety and fear lacing her whip-like words. She also could detect the thick Irish accent sliding into her native tongue. Adeline's accent wasn't as remotely as pure and preserved as Marjorie's.

"Adeline is dead," Caroline mustered up, fiddling with her feet nervously.

Marjorie's bark like laugh surprised Caroline enough to harness a jolt from her nervous system. Hysterical, sarcastic laughter filled the speakers briefly before Marjorie's harsh voice retorted back.

"She's been dead for a long time, Caroline." She encrypt hinted.

"Marjorie," Caroline bit back bitterly insulted by Marjorie's insensitivity. Perhaps Marjorie had believed Adeline dead for a while, the same dead Caroline was thinking of, but either way, Marjorie needed to know the truth of her circumstances. Caroline's snap stunned Marjorie into a short silence, enough of a slot to get Caroline's bit in.

"Adeline was staked, Marjorie. She's dead and she isn't coming back. You needed to know that." Caroline yelled as loud as she could without catching nearby attention. She drove the words like spikes, harsh and violent as the pain of her loss once again stabbed at her heart. She hoped Marjorie felt more pain than Carline did. Adeline deserved that from her surviving sister.

The silence on the other line was ominous and Caroline felt a tremble come up her spine as she imagined Marjorie's face contort into various expressions, settling with anger rather than aguish as survivor's instinct calmed her momentarily to think rationally.

"By whom," Marjorie growled lowly. The silence behind her was astounding and Caroline could picture the whole restaurant turning its heads towards the impressive statue of a woman as she slowly, internally spiraled.

"Klaus, Niklaus Mikaelson," Caroline muttered lowly as she was suspicious of the few wandering eyes around her but they paid no attention to the casually clad blonde as she crouched by the rusted streetlamp.

"Why," Marjorie asked steadily, as if she depended on remaining a cool exterior to hide any hint of undoing.

"To hurt me," Caroline answered honestly. "He wants to get at me so he's hurting everyone and anyone I come across…which is probably why I'm making a huge mistake by talking to you…I don't want to put you at risk of getting hurt…but I felt like you should know sooner than later…Adeline thought highly of you and I bet you everything I have that she died fighting with thoughts of you and the rest of your family. I'm so sorry for your loss… She was a great friend, one of the best. If I was only there in time, I would have sacrificed myself to save her honestly." Caroline sincerely said sniffling a little as a slight sting of tears burned at her eyes.

"I…appreciate that…" Marjorie mumbled, probably battling with her own tears. "Adeline may have been naïve but she was a fighter straight to the core. We all are. I'm glad you called me." She took a strong breath and steadied her voice. "I need you to come to Boston. Don't worry about putting me in danger. That's the least of my worries. I can handle myself. I'm concerned with your well-being. You're safe here. No one can touch you, or find you nonetheless, not in my city. Make it haste. Do not hesitate. Do you understand? Make no stop until you get here. You know the address?" She spoke quickly, so quickly that Caroline almost didn't catch it but she did. She imagined Marjorie keeping her voice low so on-lookers wouldn't ease drop.

"Yes."

"Where," she interrogated.

"North Street, Boston."

"If you get lost or confused, you request Ann Street, understand? The older ones will know what you mean. When you find it, you'll see the Tavern right away. It's impossible to miss it. Come in and request Pat. State your name and he'll guide you down to our safe house. I'll make sure everything is order and then we'll discuss the next plan of action from there." She kept her intense speed.

"Plan of action? You're not seriously considering going after Klaus, are you? Do you know who he is? He's an original Hybrid."

"And his brother owes me a favor. Trust me, Caroline. We built this city from the ground up. We're a force to be reckoned with. Even Klaus knows when he's over his head and if he doesn't, Elijah will talk sense into him. Come now, hurry."

New Orleans, Louisiana.

Elijah had settled into his longue, exhausted from a days-worth of conversing and interrogating, and he was heavily contemplating answering his phone when it began to incessantly ring at his side.

Finally his resolve weakened and curiosity got the better of him. He extended his arm and looked at the ID, brows skyrocketing to his hairline as he registered the name with a long-distant memory.

He eagerly answered the call, standing up firmly as he addressed the caller.

"Ah, Jodie," he answered with a small smile. "How long has it been?"

"Cut the crap, Mikaelson," she replied bluntly, wiping the polite smile off his face. It was…surreal, to say the least, to hear her thick, unique accent. It was pure and ancient, straight from the Scottish hills. "Don't call me Jodie either. That's reserved to the few people I like and you are not on that list."

"Straight to the point still, I see," he trailed off, stuffing a hand into his pocket. "When did that change? I thought we left on good terms."

"Consider those terms dead, since my sister died at the hands of your brother. His little triad against Caroline has gone too far."

"And how would you know Caroline?" Elijah requested. Her interest peaked at the tremor of her voice. An emotional Marjorie was a rare one, and in those rare moments he'd seen her achieve the most atrocious of acts, and he'd hate for her irrational mind to cause another mishap. Marjorie was one thing, Klaus another, but together was asking for the world's destruction.

"Caroline was Adeline's best friend," Marjorie curtly replied. "In his quest to prove a point on how horribly he responds to unrequited love, my sister paid the price. All he does is spread death and tragedy wherever he goes. Too bad he was granted immortal status…but then again, if your other brothers can be staked by an insolent baby vampire and a human, I suppose something can be arranged for your bastard of a brother."

"Now, now," Elijah remarked bitterly, feeling the sting of her insult. He breathed in deeply to keep calm and pinched the bridge of nose. "Marjorie, I understand you're upset…as I remember, despite your miscommunication issues, you and Adeline were fairly close…but that gives you no justification to open old wounds. I lost my siblings, too. I understand how you're feeling."

"I don't think you do, ass," Marjorie seethed. Elijah's pupil's widened in shock at the curse word, stunned by her audacity to direct it at him of all people. Her fearlessness confused him. He wasn't sure how to reply. "Adeline wasn't a homicidal, blood lusting, careless jackass. Kol got what he deserved, as for Finn I could care less. What I do mind is that your remaining brother has no foresight on the consequences of his actions. You'd raise Heaven and Earth to retrieve them back from the dead but that's not plausible, so you'll go with the alternative, raising Hell to terrorize those who wronged you."

"Fond memories," Elijah snidely commented, assured by her hitch of breath he struck a nerve. An eye for an eye…

"I will not, am not, going to hesitate to do the same," she warned. Elijah stiffened. Rebekah perked beside him, interested in the conversation as soon as their old acquaintance's name was brought up. Rebekah turned her head, frightened by Elijah's concerned expression.

"Let's be reasonable, Marjorie," Elijah tried to persuade but he was cut off by the livid woman.

"I am being reasonable," she bit back sourly. "You warn your brother to stay away from Boston and you won't have to bury another brother."

"That's not very smart, Marjorie. You're grieving. You're not thinking rationally." Elijah growled, baring his teeth.

"It will not bother me, Elijah. I haven't even had time to grieve, not yet. I only received the news hours ago. Trust me, I had a day to think about what to say to you and all I could come up with is how satisfying revenge will be when I pull his heart from his chest and feed to the alley cats. I am well aware of what I am doing and I had more than enough time to contemplate about it."

"You might want to reconsider," Elijah snarled. "You might obliterate half your city, the very city you built painstakingly with blood and flesh, the one you love so much."

"The one you failed to take over," she snidely remarked. He could picture her grin on her face as the background fire blazed and cackled. "That was priceless." She snickered. "Lesson number one, never pull hierarchy over the Irish. They'll drive you out with pitch forks and torches…and on the note of 'obliterating' my city, last time I checked, most –and by most –I mean pretty much all are sired to me since the rest of us like to cleanse our city of fowl blood…and I'm sired to you."

Elijah snarled. Marjorie was perceived to be the mature one but during the times he knew her, her wit was never without sarcasm. How he even tolerated her surpassed him.

"Glad to know I can get under your skin," Marjorie teased. "I bid a good day, Elijah, hopefully we don't have to meet again."

"Marjorie," he growled. "Let's sit down and talk about this. This is not rational."

"When has Klaus ever been rational? Personally, I've been an advocate for fire against fire. It's about time something nipped him in ass but rumor has it Boston isn't the only city rebelling. Looks like New Orleans is in different leadership…Looks like you're going to be a bit preoccupied with that. Good luck, Elijah. It was pleasant catching up."

"Marjorie!" Elijah roared but the phone line has already clicked. He tossed the phone across the room, startling Rebekah who cringed. The rare emotion of rage glowed on his face as memories struck him to the core. Rebekah recalled this similar crack centuries ago.

"So Marjorie…" Rebekah trailed. "How are you going to deal with her?"

"Personally," Elijah quipped, shrugging his jacket as he headed to the door.

Boston, MA, Chaluner Tavern.

Caroline watched cautiously at the exchanged between the original and older sister. Marjorie held her ground with a fierce, protective expression –even though her sister was dead –Marjorie was stern to defend her honor. That loyalty was something Caroline admired also in her younger sister. Seemed to her loyalty ran hot through the Chaluner blood.

"That went according to plan," she smirked, winking at Caroline. Caroline gaped, not expecting this kind of behavior from the "well-behave" sister Adeline had described. Marjorie was, though, every ounce as beautiful as Adeline had been, perhaps more, in her own elegant way, while Adeline had been more vibrant and free-spirited. Caroline supposed Marjorie was just the refined versions of Adeline.

"I've lured him out. He might come rashly but either way, his conscience will deter him from pursing further action and his better interest will be to persuade Klaus from intruding into our borders."

"You called Elijah an ass, you mocked the death of his brothers, and you mocked him," Caroline uttered in disbelief. "No offense but you…" Caroline couldn't continue her words.

"Signed my death warrant? One may think so but you'd be amazed what I can get away with."

"How," Caroline asked.

"Because it ain't anything I haven't done before and when I had, I didn't get my heart snatched from my chest. I doubt he would again. Katherine may have stolen his affection but he still is fond of me. I can still tell that much. Why else would he offer me so many chances to be "reasonable"?" She shrugged as she diverted her attention from the phone in her hand to a quilt on the counter she had pulled from under the covert underneath. "Is that all," Marjorie inquired sweetly, kneeling down to eye level. Caroline was caught in her fierce green eyes, hypnotized by their likeness to Adeline's but stunned by the darkness of the emotion in them.

Caroline nodded, mumbling "thank you" as Marjorie wrapped a quilt over her shoulders.

"Off to bed now," she encouraged, hoisting Caroline up and guiding her past the counter to the backdoor where the stairs to the upper level loft were. "You drove a long way and now you need your rest. Come now," she urged. Marjorie ushered her past the secret back way and up the narrow staircase, making sure they were haste, so Caroline was unable to examine the much older photos of 12th century Scotland landscape along the walls.

"Thank you for everything," Caroline mumbled as she sunk into the soft guest bed. "I'm sorry again for Adeline and dragging you into this mess...'

"I've been in this mess for a long time Caroline," Marjorie soothed sadly. She wiped a stray strand from Caroline's face. "Adeline and I both," she murmured. "Adeline tried to escape it but there wasn't much we could do. Somehow they always find us…" her eyes ventured to the painting parallel from the bed of a Castle. Tall stone towers and a bright red flag waving from the highest peak. She smiled nostalgically at the memory.

"Margie, Margie, catch me if you can!"

"Don't call me Margie! Ade! Ade! Stop! Mama is going to get mad if you dirty up your dress."

"Look at me, Princess Adelaide of Kellie Castle!"

"Stop that before the real Princess overhears you Ade. Do you want to be beheaded just like the servant boy not long ago?"

"How did you meet Elijah?" Caroline asked in her fatigued daze.

Marjorie stroked her shoulder and smiled briefly. "It's a long story."

"At least tell me the beginning," Caroline begged. "Adeline loved telling stories." She adjusted her position to get comfortable, resting her head against the pillow while she

"She certainly had an imagination. She loved pretending to be a princess or an heiress, a lady of class and royalty. She'd steal clothes from mom even though we outgrew them! We inherited our father's towering height so those dresses would go to our knees!" She buckled with laughter. "Sadly I have to tend to downstairs and elders to discuss with. Perhaps another time…"

"That's fine," Caroline smiled. "Can you tell me one last thing?" Marjorie nodded. "That painting," Caroline began, pointing her finger towards the portrait, "over there of the castle. Is that from your home place?" Marjorie nodded again. "What is the name of it?"

"Kellie Castle," Marjorie answered wistfully. "Good night, Carlin'."

"Good night Marjorie."