"Our Father," Klaus practically spat the word, "will never die. If you can tell me how one might vanquish memories, I would be glad to put him in yet another grave myself." The venom in his voice was thick, the blackest of hatred in his eyes when he but referenced Mikael. But then Rebekah hugged him, and he found himself less tense in that moment. He sighed deeply, not looking at her but clinging on to her all the same.
"I am sorry, sister," he finally said in a tired voice, his apology perhaps the rarest of gifts he could give. "Stefan would have been happier with you, and this business of Jack might never have come to be. But believe. I do not regret pushing him away from you. I am not a good man, but Jack is twice worse that. Mistreated or no, he is dangerous. And were I to have lost you to him, this entire bloody island would've found itself leveled."