alive {Klaus Mikaelson}

eleven // hands of time

"In the front, if we're being specific." Niklaus smirks.

I can't help the small smile the creeps on my lips. But it quickly disappears. "We all said that we would get him back. So are we coming up with a plan, or what?"

"Well, firstly, Marcel is not my mortal enemy." Niklaus corrects, wondering onto a seat. He kicks up his legs, looking to both Rebekah and I. "He's my friend, albeit one who is unaware that I am trying to sabotage his hold over the supernatural community of the French quarter, but a friend nonetheless."

I still hadn't told them I'd met Marcel already, that I know him quite well in fact. The right time never seemed to come.

"And secondly, I daggered Elijah in order to gain Marcel's trust. If I had known he would place my brother in the hands of a particularly nasty teenage witch, I certainly would have weighed my options a bit differently. And thirdly, sister, please." Niklaus gestures for his sister to continue.

"And thirdly, the plan, as you have demanded, is for Niklaus to simply ask Marcel for Elijah back."

Rebekah looks confident, and this causes my eyes to travel to Niklaus, who also looks quite smug. This worries me, because I hadn't thought they were that stupid. "That's not the whole plan, is it?"

"Oh, please." Rebekah mocks. "Klaus may be a miserable excuse for a sibling, but there is none more diabolical."

I look back to him, waiting for his response, hopefully reassuring. "That's only plan A love. There's always a plan B."

"And what's plan B?" I can't help but ask, my imagination getting the best of me. I may think I know what he is capable of, but I could be very very wrong. I'm already sure that I am.

"War."

---------

"Klaus, for the love of Mary Magdalene, how long does it take to ask a simple question?"

I watch as Rebekah paces back and forth with her phone on speaker in the living room, in which I haven't left. I did however get myself a glass of milk.

The isolation is really getting to me at this point. I miss... outside. And this couch is beginning to get uncomfortable.

"Much longer than you'd think, considering the answer was, as expected, no." I groan at Niklaus' response, hoping it would be different.

I guess Plan B is about to be put into action.

"Marcel's man Thierry is suspicious. He thinks you killed ten nightwalkers."

"Well, that's a lie. I only killed eight." Rebekah quickly defends, causing my eyebrow to rise. Does she honestly think eight is better? "Should I make Thierry the ninth?"

I feel the need to intervene, to tell them not to lay a hand on him. He's a good man. He's just caught in the wrong crowd, the wrong crowd being not the Mikaelson crowd.

"Marcel is playing friendly. We can't kill the favourite son, or he'll catch onto us."

I silently thank whoever can hear my thoughts.

"So war it is, then." Rebekah smiles, like she's happy with the decision.

I'm not.

I just want Elijah back.

"Indeed. Do you know what to do with the witch?"

For a moment I think Niklaus is talking about me, but then realise otherwise. It's hard to keep up with all the names this family has called me.

"I believe I do."

"Good. You manage Sophie Deveraux. I'll take care of the next step."

Rebekah hangs up, tapping her phone against her hand. Her gaze falls on me, and I can already tell what she's going to say.