You Don't Know What I'd Do For You (Love you like oxygen)

twenty-nine

*A/N* Hello, everyone. Welcome back after another break. For anyone who isn't aware yet, I am currently working on two different works, I am writing a request that was sent to me on Wattpad at the same time as I am finishing this book up and at the same time as I'm starting school again because I'm really great at scheduling shit. So, because of that, updates will be a bit slow. My current plan is that I will alternate which book I write from week to week, so every other week, you will get an update. My main priority, aside from my education and wellbeing and all that other dumb stuff, is of course this book, I will be finishing it, I will never skip an update for this book in favour of the other story, etc. The other work is a short story, so this schedule is only temporary. Sorry if I scared anyone, it is not abandoned, I just drastically overestimated my schedule lmao. Now that that's over with, let's get back to the story, this chapter is the KlausxElijah pairing, trigger warnings for this chapter are: mentioned abuse of all kinds (fuck you Mikael) and mentions of violence (basically all the times that Klaus was Klaus). Enjoy!

Klaus POV

It was awful, the whole thing, every second worse than the last. The tension inside me ratcheted up higher and higher after the days with the house being too quiet, being unable to breathe for fear that I would miss the sound of Elijah yelling for help, being unable to think from the stress, every little thing grating away at my nerves until they were dust. The silence, having nothing to do but sit and wait for the seconds to drag by, feeling like I was alone on an island where no one dared to venture, it was almost painful in its emptiness. But the worst part was the memories, the ones that stayed with me from Esther's little game, they haunted me every time I closed my eyes, every time I attempted to sleep away a few hours of the waiting, all I could see were the coffins, the daggers, the stakes, the fights. Elijah's eyes looking back into mine as I drove a stake into his heart, his voice yelling at me to stop as I hunted for Rebekah or went after Kol. The words would ring through my head on repeat until I was sure I had gone mad. "BULL SHIT, Elijah! You hate me, you always have! I'm everything that you loath about yourself! " "You look like Father." "I just want to be free." "Is he always like that? "

Even in my head, their voices sounded sad, in pain, heartbroken, and I had caused it, I had put them there. I don't know why it had never occurred to me what it felt like for them, that they were ever scared of me. But, indeed, Finn had fled from me like I had fled from Mikael, and Kol had severed himself from me as one would sever the ropes of the only bridge that crossed the void. And still, I had made up excuses, blamed them for the consequences of my actions, threatened them for their "disloyalty." They had told me what they needed, it wasn't like I had had to guess, but instead of granting them the slightest relief, I had taken that wish and hope and thrown it back in their faces, ridiculed it for centuries. Every time one of them left me at the nearest opportunity, I had thought I had been blindsided by their "betrayal," but maybe I had just been blind. Rebekah had run from me in fear, Freya had gone behind my back, Marcel had erased me from his life. But Elijah had stayed.

I threw down the paintbrush that refused to flow properly over the canvas, settling instead on pouring myself a generous glass of bourbon. Sighing to myself, I downed it in one mouthful before pouring another, wanting desperately to be rid of the headache that was my own guilt. But it was persistent as ever, impossible to ignore. I don't know how Elijah ever managed it, because Lord knows he thought everything was always his fault. But even with all that guilt, he was always so...perfect, just like he had everything under control and things would always be okay simply because he willed it to be so. In any case, he bore it well, the guilt, the weight, the burden that was this family, this life, this existence for all of eternity. It was like he was made for it, to be the support that held us all steady, the shelter that was our refuge from the storm. Only when that shelter and support collapsed did you realize how heavy the weight really was.