Bad Romance

Chapter Six

Later that night, after trying to sleep and failing, Uma took a walk around the house and to the pool. She saw Rebekah earlier through a window and decided to give her the daggers. While she could have used them for blackmail, she decided having Rebekah owe her would serve more rewards in the long run.

The girls sat on pool chairs beside each other in silence for a moment before Uma broke it.

"I know we don't get along that well, but thanks," Uma muttered. "I appreciate what you did in there."

Rebekah took in a breath.

"Us girls have got to look out for each other."

Uma and Rebekah sat in silence again gazing at the woods and pool, soaking in the serenity. Uma understood Rebekah and Klaus' relationship. She had never had a younger sister or an older brother, or been alive for 1000+ years, daggered countlessly and betrayed by her family. But she knew what it was like to not want to leave someone because it was like losing a little, or big, piece of yourself. She experienced that with, what she considered, her first child even though she only knew her briefly.

"If you know Marcel has Elijah, why don't you get him yourself?"

"Because if I cross my brother, there's still a coffin downstairs with my name on it." Rebekah sighed.

Uma grabbed the cloth-covered daggers, uncovering them and showing Rebekah. Rebekah stared at the daggers, muttering an 'Oh my god'. She reached to take them, Uma pulling back slightly.

"I found them under your coffin before you got here. So if a couple of antique steak knives were the only thing stopping you from getting Elijah back, then here you go," Uma smiled, placing the daggers in Rebekah's hand. "You owe me one."

Rebekah clutched the daggers close to her, glad that she wouldn't be in a casket as long as she had them. Uma walked away, finally tired enough to sleep, and went to bed.

The next morning Klaus stood outside Uma's door, staring at her. Her dark skin contrasted against the white bedding, her curls strewed across the pillows. He quietly snuck in, taking in her beauty. He tried to memorize her like this, so he could paint it later. It was an image he always wanted to remember.

Klaus saw the bag on the ottoman at the end of the bed, and the empty bottle of wolfsbane next to it. He grabbed the other bottle from the bag, taking out the dropper before raising the bottle to his face and smelling it.

"I didn't use it," Uma muttered, eyes still closed as she snuggled closer to her pillow.

Klaus looked at Uma, his eyes feeling like fire on her skin. Uma opened her eyes, making eye contact with Klaus.

"You're awake," Klaus mumbled, embarrassed.

Klaus walked over to the window on Uma's side of the bed, while she pushed herself up to lean against the headboard.

"I could barely sleep all night. This house is like a damn sauna," Uma complained.

Klaus didn't respond, still staring out the window.

"What stopped you? You could have been free of all of this, of me."

Uma stared at Klaus' back.

"Yeah, well, when I was fighting off those vampires, I realised I didn't want to lose another child."

Klaus turned quickly to Uma, shocked. Guilt immediately took over all his other emotions. He hadn't once asked about how she was doing with his child, or if she wanted it, until now. How could he have missed the signs of greif? He felt like a fool for neglecting his little wolf.

"All I know is push came to shove, and I wanted to keep our baby."

Klaus stepped closer to Uma, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I'm beginning to think we're a lot alike, you and I," he smiled.

Uma smiled back, nodding.

"We're bost castoffs who've learnt to fight when we're backed into a corner."

Uma let out a small laugh, remembering the crypt.

"Well, we're backed into a corner now, Klaus."

He nodded, "Ah, that we are. It's time to fight... little wolf."

Klaus pushed a curl behind Uma's ear, almost making her blush. Klaus started to leave the room, pausing at the doorway when Uma started to speak.

"This whole thing with Marcel, the deal you have with the witches, trying to take him down, take what's his, I heard that you two once loved each other like family. What happened?"

Klaus walked back to the end of the bed.

"I made Marcel everything that he is, I treated him like a son, and when my father chased me and my family from New Orleans a hundred years ago, we believed Marcel was killed," Klaus said to Uma with glossy eyes.

"We each mourned him in our own way. Yet when I returned, I found not only had he survived, he had thrived. Instead of seeking us out, instead of sticking together as one, he made a choice to take everything my family had built and make it his own. Now, he is living in our home, he is sleeping in our beds. The letter 'M' he stamps everywhere, it's not for 'Marcel', it's for Mikaelson."

Klaus raised his arms, similar to the night before, continuing to speak.

"I want it all back, and if I have to push him out to get it, then that's exactly what I'll do."

Uma and Klaus stared into each other's eyes, making Uma's heart jump.

"I'll have someone see to the air conditioning," Klaus gestured around the room, before leaving.

Uma stared after the man in admiration, before grabbing her needles from her bedside table and knitting a pair of black woolly socks too big for her own feet.