Weakness (Klaus Mikaelson)

Farewell To Storyville

Why must he always be so dramatic? He can't admit that- for once- it might just be him that's in the wrong. It'll be his downfall one day.

"You don't make yourself particularly easy to like," I reason. "What were you expecting?"

"I was expecting to wake up to you beside me after Papa Tunde's blade was removed. Instead, I woke up to the human bartender." He pulls himself to a stand, ignoring the cracks on the wall behind him. I don't move as he advances closer. If I shuffle back, it'll tell him who's in control. "I suppose you really don't care about me anymore." His hand snakes up to my cheek which he caressing with bitter tenderness. "What happened to loving me?"

I have to remind myself to breathe as my eyes meet his. They're burning symphonies into my soul, toying with my sanity. It's annoying how easily he can make me weak. How quickly my anger can evaporate in his presence. How easily he can anger me in the first place. He makes life so much more difficult than it needs to be. He toys with my emotions, driving me up the wall.

"It's been two days," I state, placing a hand on his chest to push him away. Unsurprisingly, he doesn't move. Despite my emotions being all over the place, I remain routed in my spot. My torment here is the key to distracting Klaus whilst Elijah gets Rebekah out of the way. Well, as far out of the way as this cemetery will let her be. She can't get out of it. "You and your dramatics again, as per usual. Besides, you can't expect me to stay in something unrequited."

"And that's supposed to mean?"

"I understand where your sister's coming from." She owes me big time after all of this. Emotions are disgusting, and yet I'm here venturing into the unknown with them to protect her. Why must life be so unfair? "She wants to be loved. She wants something so strong and passionate that it consumes her. Maybe I want the same thing. And like with Rebekah, you aren't willing to give me that."

"You're so sure of that."

I shrug, breathing heavily.

"You can't bring yourself to love me. I don't think you ever will."

"I never said that I didn't love you."

"And you never said that you did."

He merely said that I'm 'intelligent enough to know'. That's not saying anything. That's finding an escape route instead of exposing yourself to raw vulnerability and weakness. That's not how I want to live.

"What do you want from me Lillian? Do you want me to lay my heart out to you and share my every desire? Do you want poetry and romantic gestures? Do you want my last name because I'm more than ready to give it to you?" He gets closer to my face, his lips close to my own. I can't breathe. He's firing words at me that I don't understand. I have no hope of understanding them. "What do you want!"

"I want you to calm down for starters," His lips- to my relief- move away. I can breathe again. "I told you already what I want. I gave you my conditions and you didn't listen to me. I want someone who cares about me. You care more about power. I told you what would happen if you hurt those kids but you did it anyway. Clearly, you don't care about me as much as you say you do."

"I don't care about you?" He slams a fist against the spot next to my head, his muscles rippling with a fiery tension. "I've been doing this for you! For you and that child!" My eyes narrow. "Our child," He corrects, his tone softening. "I'm giving her a stable world to grow up in in which she'll be adored. I'm giving you power."

"I don't need power!"

I have more than enough power. Power has never been on my mind. It doesn't make my list of priorities. The sooner he understands that, the better.

He does understand. Just not the right thing. "You evil little vixen." He backs me into the wall. "If you think you'll distract me from what I came here to do, then you'll be disappointed. Whilst our make up is long overdue, it's going to have to wait."

Not good enough.

I grab his hand, hoping to distract him further. I don't know how long this is going to take. How long we'll all be trapped in this cemetery. Distracting him is the best chance that we've got.

"Don't kill her. Please, I'm begging you," His gaze softens ever so slightly. "Do the right thing. You ignored me the first time I asked for something. I never ask for anything. Just don't make the same mistake again." I fist his shirt, using it to stop him from running away. "I'm begging you. I'll do whatever you want. I'll behave. Please, just please."

"Move out of my-"

"Look me in the eye and say that you'll do it," I command. "If you're going to kill her, you're going to tell me now. Look me in the eyes and say that you'll kill your sister." He steals in a deep breath, his eyes glazing over. "If you hurt her, I'm leaving for good. There'll be no Ross and Rachel-ing. I'll leave New Orleans." He almost looks like he's about to cry. Am I pushing too far? No. He needs to hear this. He needs to know he can't get away with screwing people over without getting a taste of his own medicine. "I'll have a witch cover for me. You'll never see me or your child. Ever. Look me in the eyes and say that's what you want."

He says nothing. Instead, he grabs my arm and vamp-speeds through the cemetery, stopping upon finding Elijah and Rebekah. Well... I tried.

He releases me. To my relief, he doesn't instantly storm his way over to Rebekah. Instead, he perches upon a tomb, taking up the position of a judge. I raise an eyebrow but decide not to argue. This is better than what I was hoping for.

"Let it begin," He demands theatrically. "The trial of Rebekah Mikaelson."

"What a relief," She mutters to the good brother. "His ego is in check."

"Just speak your truth. I'll make certain he behaves himself."

"You stand accused of betraying your own blood. How do you plead?"

"I plead you to shut up and listen."

With Klaus and Rebekah distracted, I slip a weapon into Elijah's hand. He glances down from it, eyes widening in disbelief. In one hand, I push Papa Tunde's blade. Into the other, I place the white oak stake. It seems it's quite easy to rob from Klaus when he's distracted. The lack of distance between the both of us made it easy enough. All I had to do was slip a hand into his pocket. In and out twice did the trick.

"Oh, so that's your defence? You called Mikael-- the Destroyer, the Hunter of Vampires-- because I detained you from pursuing some dull suitors." He really is so dramatic. Maybe I'm lucky that he might not love me back. I'm not sure that I'd be able to put up with him for an entire lifetime. He's loud, insensitive and unbearable.

"You were cruel, and controlling, and manipulative." I agree with Rebekah entirely.

"I was trying to protect you! From imbeciles, and leeches. Not to mention your own poor judgment."

"And what about the one that you loved enough to call friend? Why did you forbid me to love Marcel?"

They bicker like this for a while. Back and forth, back and forth until eventually Elijah interrupts. He send Rebekah away again when Klaus' anger gets a bit much. We're walking on a tight rope here. Goading Klaus is like walking on thin ice. It's sink or swim.

I follow after Rebekah, wishing Elijah the best of luck.

Naturally, it doesn't go very well. Elijah ends up having the blade I gave him in his heart. When Klaus catches up to us once again, he stabs his sister in the chest with the white oak stake. When her body tumbles to the ground, my heart prickles with pain and disbelief until I watch him pull it away. My heart slows, calming. He went too far to the side. He didn't kill her.

My lips part. He steps closer towards me.

"Whatever you want Lillian," He says, staggering his way towards me. I don't move, making no effort to speak. I don't know what I'd say anyway. Words can't begin to describe how I'm feeling. "We'll rebuild on your terms. But I can't wait forever. Rebekah can leave. She can have the life she always wanted." His hand caresses my cheek again like earlier. This time, there's no bitterness to it. It's tender and gentle and warm. "You will stay here. You and my child. I'll do right by you." At my ear, he whispers. "I love you." And then he's gone.