Bring It On
———
"She's a fixer with no one to fix her. She's a lover who won't love herself. She's a heartbreak away from a horrible place cause fixers never fix themselves."
—Brent Morgan {The Fixer}
———
-
"If you burn down this house, it'll be gone. Forever. What if one day when this is all over, you want to come home again?" America glanced at her sister as Elena looked over at her, eyes empty. They could agree that there was no chance of that. "Stef, this house hasn't been my home in almost a year. And I don't think Elena could stand living in it alone with all that's happened inside. So, by the time that time comes—if it ever does—home will be a different place." The vampire was resigned then, inclining his head in defeat as he took a physical step back, taking one last look at a home he too had known in the past few years.
He wasn't ready to let go and to some extent, neither was Damon but none were as reluctant among the three as Caroline. The blonde had grown up in these rooms and explored these hallways just as the sisters had. It was filled with memories of them together, of easier times of freeze tag and hide and seek and princess tea parties. Of broken hearts from nameless boys and hushed midnight talks at sleepovers and relentless giggles as they talked about their first kiss. America caught her tearful, green eyes, unable to conjure a smile but able to translate some reassurance in her gaze.
"It'll be okay." The ball of fire sitting in her palm trickled to the floor, taking to the fuel like a moth to a flame.
-
"Mom!" America groaned, rolling over onto her stomach to bury her face in the pillow underneath her. Oddly enough, it moved. "Mom, I know you're awake." The tiny voice huffed and the woman had all intentions of continuing to feign sleep but the following words not belonging to the young girl garnered her interest. "Oh, bloody hell." No sooner than Klaus had said this did the door to their bedroom open and America turned, snorting a sleepy laugh as she saw Damon, his hand over his eyes. "Please tell me you're decent because I can't take the alternative."
Still giggling, the woman sat up as she stretched, a soft whine leaving her lips. "We are, what are you doing here?" She inquired as she shifted to sit against the pillows propped against the headboard, indulging Rosie as the young girl crawled into her arms. Looking back at Damon, she noticed an inscrutable emotion in his eyes as he watched her but it was gone as quickly as it appeared and the scent of it was complex, unfamiliar, so it remained a mystery. One she let drop in her drowsiness. "So, I got a list," the man began, leaning against the door frame.
He waved a piece of paper in the air and America narrowed her eyes, vaguely reading that it wasn't an actual list but a transcript of some sort. "Of things lover boy, here," he jutted a finger at Klaus who had moved to sit with her and Rosie, looking more than put out at the intrusion into his home. America hid her smile in the girl's hair. "Sucks at. I kept it simple and relevant this time or else we'd be here all day," there was a slew of information there she wasn't privy to but considering Klaus only felt mildly annoyed, she didn't concern herself with it.
"Number one: Finding Katherine. Ever." At that, she furrowed her brows, halting Damon before he could continue. "What does this have to do with her?" He gestured to her, "Yeah, that brings us to number two: our foreign backstabber who he's been having secret phone conversations with." The woman stared at her best friend, blinking as she processed what she was being told before she turned to look at Klaus. He'd been glaring at Damon but feeling her gaze, he quickly averted his eyes to meet hers, "Don't, you were sleeping many of the days away, love."
She growled under her breath, eyes narrowed. "Not anymore. You better have a damn good reason—" She cut herself off, inhaling deeply to calm her rising anger as she looked back at Damon. "What did Hayley do? Where's Katherine?" She questioned, face still partially in Rosie's hair. The scent of citrus was calming to her, making it easy to temporarily forget Klaus' actions and make more sense of their justification. For a better part of the last three days, she had indeed been sleeping most of the hours in the day, exhausted from her illness and recovery. It was only an added bonus that in her sleep, her grief was absent.
"Katherine was on the island—" her head jerked up from Rosie, eyes wide in her surprise, "—and she even had her own hunter, Vaughn. His tat was completed and everything. Hayley ratted out everything she got from spying and manipulating our runaway Lockwood. And in the end, Katherine sacrificed Little Gilbert, raised Silas and stole the cure. Oh, and I guess she left the loose end to be tied up but that's not my problem. Where is, said loose end, Klaus? Cause I need to find Katherine." For America, the conversation ended there—Klaus picked up where she left off.
Holding Rosie close, the woman felt a wave of sadness and disappointment overtake her. It had been weeks since she'd last talked to Katherine but what Damon revealed had to have been months in the making. And in those months, she had talked to Katherine at least once a week, checking in with the woman she still saw as family, ensuring she was doing okay in the chaos of their lives. And yet. . . none of that had seemed to matter in the end. As the days came to a close, Katherine had chosen her survival above all else and as a result, everyone else was left picking up the pieces.
America sighed rather dejectedly, slumping back onto the bed and taking Rosie with her. The blonde wasn't startled, simply shifting so she could cuddle into her, tiny hands playing with her bracelet. The gesture warmed her heart as she threaded her fingers through the young girl's hair. "Hey, mom?" At the barely coherent whisper, the woman glanced down with dim eyes but she grew curious at the young girl's palpable excitement. "Hey, Ro?" It got a tiny smile out of the blonde as she brought a small fist up for them both to see. "Look." And look she did.
America felt her lips twitch up into an unconsciously fond smile at the little tooth in Rosie's palm. She feigned a gasp, eyes slightly brighter than before, "is that what I think it is?" In response, the girl giggled and gave her a gap-toothed grin that had the woman's smiling growing. "It is. You lost your tooth." A vigorous nod as the tooth in question was turned in the dim light for her to examine. "Uh huh, and look, this one's loose." The other loose tooth was her remaining front one and it was indeed lax. America gave it a week or two before it fell out as well.
"Looks like you'll get a visit from the tooth fairy then, sweetheart." Rosie nodded, "Yup, but I don't want any money. I'm going to stay up and when she comes, I'll ask her for a wish instead." America arched an eyebrow at that, taken aback. "A wish?" The determined nod she got was too cute, it warmed her heart. "Yeah, I'm gonna wish for you to be happy. I don't like seeing you so sad." The woman made a muffled noise in her throat, deeply touched as her eyes gleamed, the dimness chased away for the time being as she smiled down at the girl, pulling her even closer for a tight embrace.
Tears pricked her eyes but they never fell as she let them flutter closed, tuning out the men still talking and focusing on Rosie and her deep breaths, unconsciously mirroring them with only the distant realization that they were purposeful. America was immersed in their own little world, almost asleep again when she was gently coaxed out of it when a hand too big to be Rosie's caressed her arm, a warm body sidling closer. A content hum left her lips as she shifted back into Klaus' embrace, glancing back at him with drowsy eyes. He was propped on his elbow, looking down at her with furrowed brows and a worried frown.
"I-I'm not—" She swallowed past the resurfacing lump in her throat, "I just thought it was over." She whispered, pressing her lips into a thin line to hold back her shaky exhale as Klaus leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple. "It may not be, but you don't have to bear the burden of it on your own, sweetheart."
~
When America finally dragged herself and Rosie out of bed a few hours later, Klaus had already gotten up and was elsewhere in the house with Hayley Marshall, much to her absolute displeasure. The scent of the werewolf in her home irked her to no end considering she represented all that had been lost in the last few months and the worthless and destructive object it had been for. Still, Klaus had asked her rather nicely to leave the woman alone while he pried information out of her and because he also promised for Hayley's fate to be entirely in her hands once he had what he needed, she acquiesced to the unwanted presence in her home.
Though honestly, it would have taken less convincing from the man as she had her own business to tend to. Said business was now awake in the room her hybrids had brought him into, the injured man bound by his wrist to the plain bed inside. He sat on the bed, trying his best to pull at the restraint around his wrist that he failed to notice he had company. "It's spelled to keep a living being unlucky enough trapped permanently." America's entrance had been silent and gone undetected and so when she spoke, barely disturbing the silence, he jerked in surprise. His head whipped in her direction, the man's eyes wide.
She tilted her head as she regarded him with cold, amber eyes. "Hello, Shane."
-
"How's Elena?" America questioned, expecting few reassuring answers as she pulled into the parking lot of Mystic Falls Elementary. "Oh, you know, a little murdery here and there. She fed on someone this morning and, ugh, I had to reign her in. I felt dirty. I felt like Stefan." The woman snorted as she parked, glancing back at Rosie in the backseat. The blonde had her backpack and everything on, a toothy smile on her face as she leaned forward on the console to press a kiss to America's cheek. "Well seeing as you were mindless and gave her vervain, I can spell something to keep her in check if you need me to." She said, smiling as she hugged Rosie.
"Oh, don't worry about that. I have it under control." Damon reassured as America whispered to Rosie, "Have a good day at school, sweetheart." She got a cute, resolute nod in return. "I will, mom. Bye!" And the girl was gone, shutting the car door soundly behind her. The woman tuned back into her conversation with Damon, "And how exactly do you have it under control?" She watched Rosie until the blonde disappeared into the school, relying on her hearing to ensure she made it to class. "The sirebond, as much as I hate abusing it. It's the only thing we kinda have to make sure she doesn't end up making any decisions she'll regret."
America had been in the midst of shifting the car into drive from park but stuttered as she registered what Damon had said. "I'm sorry, what?" Predictably, he mistook her tone of voice. "Listen, I know it's a big no-no but—" She shook her head, burying her face in her hand with a groan. "No, Damon, that's not the problem. The problem is that the sirebond doesn't exist anymore." A long pause, "Uh, say that again? Because I don't think I heard you right. What do you mean 'it doesn't exist anymore', Raven?" The woman made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat, cursing the hardships in her life.
"I mean that I compelled her to turn it off for a reason. The sirebond had to be broken for both your and Elena's sake so if you were pissed after an argument, some off-handed comment didn't have her doing something she shouldn't. When Elena stopped feeling, the sirebond had nothing more to grasp onto because you know, that's how they work. It was there in the first place cause she had feelings for you when she was human, when she turned, it got amplified so much so that it created the bond.
"Breaking it meant completely taking away her feelings for you so it was either her switch or doing something monumentally stupid like compelling you away." Damon was silent for the longest time that she was down the road, at an intersection a few minutes from the school when he spoke up again. "Can't you compel her to turn it back on? I was banking on just telling her. Not to mention keeping her in check," the man groaned and she could sense his stress even over the phone. "Elena will turn it back on when she wants to, Damon.
"She needs to be ready to face everything before and during her switch flip on her own terms, not ours. If she isn't, the grief will ruin her." A stretch of silence on Damon's end before he spoke up. "How are you doing then? You—" She huffed, "didn't turn it off because I've got a kid and hybrids to take care of, I'm recovering from an illness and I'm not a newbie vampire. If I had half as much grief as Elena did when I first turned, that's a whole different story but I've had time to adjust. Not to mention that I know grief. I've known it for millennia and I'll know it for longer.
"Elena's nearing nineteen, even if there was no sirebond, I'd still give her that reprieve. She should have it after years of constant mourning." And it went without saying that no matter how long that reprieve was, the brunette would always know sorrow longer. "But to make it easier, I'll spell a piece of jewelry to monitor her—you can either give it to her nicely or rudely, your choice. Whoever gives it to her is who can take it off so you know, she doesn't just rip it off and go on a spree." Shuffling on the other end indicated Damon was nodding.
"Can do, Raven," a pause, "So, this whole time. . ." America exhaled softly, the corner of her lips tugging up ever so slightly. "Elena's feelings were real, Damon." A breath, mirroring her own, sounded on the other end. "Oh." It was a wonder that one, monosyllabic word could hold so many emotions.
-
"Why am I still alive? How?" America leaned against the doorframe, observing a pale-faced Shane with a frown. "I promised you you'd die by my hand. Dying in a cave from blood loss and a broken leg isn't divine intervention—it's pathetic, really. You ruined so many lives, killed so many people and single-handedly screwed with what little peace this town had going for it. All for what? A wife who didn't know when to quit?" The latter was what finally got a rise out of Shane, the man raising his head to glare at her.
"Don't talk about my wife like that. And I killed all those people for a greater good—for Silas, so when he lowers the veil, they'll all come back." America snorted, morbidly amused. "Yeah, and they wouldn't be mad at all, would they? Everyone you manipulated would want your head on a silver platter and the beauty of it, Shane, is that if you died," he straightened up, "you would be dead for good. And I, personally, would put you in your worst nightmare if you weren't already living it." He watched her carefully—warily—as she approached, the room morphing before their eyes.
"Did you know. . ," Shane stared wide-eyed at a figure behind her in the darkness of a cave—where his wife had died. "There's a subset of witches who specialize in mind magic—that they can take your worst memory. . ," America turned to see Caitlin Shane, stumbling forward as Expression tore through her body, "and trap you inside it?"
~
America ascended the stairs to the main floor as Shane's cries filtered out, the woman silencing and permanently locking the room he was in. She didn't need a stray hybrid or her little werewolf wandering inside to whatever gruesome sight would greet them. She was about to go upstairs when she caught Klaus' voice midsentence. "—your vampire assailant is dead, so you're safe and free to go. Or stay." Interest piqued, the woman perked up and approached, especially as she felt the mischief radiating from the man. "I could be persuaded to stay, enjoy some of the good life.
"And maybe I could drum up a few more of Katherine's secrets and you could do something for me." America suppressed a growl at the sound of Hayley's voice, not wanting to give herself away but also needing to reign in her anger in general. Letting it get out of hand would cause a bigger mess than she'd wish to clean up. "Oh, I'm sorry, dear, but if anyone will persuade me to let Tyler go free, it will not be you." America stood at the entrance of the room, unseen and undetected by Hayley but sensed by Klaus. "No, it'd be her, wouldn't it? Your weird, little girlfriend."
America bit back a laugh although, Klaus didn't, the woman able to feel his outright amusement. "And what about her strikes you as weird?" Hayley scented vaguely of confusion and curiosity, "Everything about her. Your hybrids were more afraid to cross her compared to you. And she isn't human, for sure, but no hybrid would be afraid of a vampire or some witch—not when they've got numbers. So, what is she?" Klaus smirked down at the brunette, amused as he tilted his head. "A very powerful woman, wolf, whom I do believe is none too pleased by your latest indiscretions."
Hayley gave the man an incredulous look until she heard the very woman they were speaking of. "Honestly, I see no chance of you actually leaving here alive." America appeared beside Klaus, the man stepping back to silently observe. The werewolf had stumbled back as well but there was no intention, her brief retreat due to surprise and a sliver of fear. To her credit, though, the brunette hid it rather well. The only indication, her scent aside, was the minuscule tightening of her hand around the glass she held. "And should you? After our hybrids, my brother, the cure and Carol Lockwood?"
Hayley frowned, making a disagreeing noise as she eyed her and, amusingly enough, the only exit in the room. "I didn't kill Tyler's mom or your brother." America hummed, unconvinced as she cocked her head, dark eyes intense. "No? Because unless I'm wrong, it was you who sent Katherine to the island and it was you who fed all those lies to Tyler. You played as much part in their deaths as—" The woman cut herself off, eyes unfocusing as she inhaled deeply. The foresty scent that invaded her senses wasn't the wolf's—at least not entirely. There was too much pine in it.
"You saw him." Her eyes were wide, flickering a light amber that exposed just how much her pupils had dilated in her growing fury. The pine scent was Tyler's and Hayley. . . she reeked of it. As if she'd taken the origin of the scent and rolled in it. But the source was a person and for the smell to be that potent. . . well, it made her furious. In one fell swoop, every ounce of sympathy she felt for the hybrid on the run was gone and America wasn't sure it could ever be righted. Not when Tyler had barely been gone a week and had cheated on the woman he 'loved more than he could put into words'.
Because if he could betray her so quickly, then that wasn't love. Far from it. The goddess exhaled in a rush, feeling lightheaded trying to control her anger and at the suddenness of it, her skin growing heated due to the intensity and the possibility that if she lost enough control, the only barrier standing between her and her wolf would be broken. And wasn't that a tempting thought? At least, to the beast, in particular. To be capable of more destruction though it wasn't as if it was a further advantage she needed but. . . the desire was one she nearly fell victim to.
Especially when it occurred to her that of all Hayley was responsible for, it was her standing before her. It was her within reach for punishment for someone else's indiscretions. Acting on a whim, however, would cease to happen. The moment America had made the conscious decision to give in to her rage, fingers twitching with the itch to wrap around the werewolf's throat, her vision blurred, presenting her with a different image than the room she truly occupied. Inside a grand home, neatly furnished and clean but comfortable nonetheless was Hayley.
The woman looked no older than she did now, the only difference the noticeable presence of maturity. She wore a soft, loose gown, and was sprawled on the couch with a blanket over top of her. America stood partially inside the room herself, leaning against the doorframe. Though herself inside the vision watched Hayley, the woman observing from the present examined her surroundings through her peripheral vision, taking notice that the home wasn't a familiar one but the way it was decorated and arranged. . . it was without a doubt a Mikaelson home albeit an impersonal one.
Her focus shifted back to Hayley, seeing the woman's eyes were closed but, as if sensing her presence, the brunette opened one, finding her within seconds. Both opened to soften with a warmth the observer didn't expect at all. The reciprocating fondness she felt was a mystery as well, the woman wondering how much time had passed and what events had occurred for such a change in comparison to the now. The werewolf reached a hand out, making grabbing motions, a silent request for her to come closer. "Are you just going to stand there and creep on me like Elijah usually does?"
America snorted a laugh as she pushed off the wall and made her way over to the brunette. "I told him you don't bite but he's been extra cautious of pregnant women in the last week—I think I spooked him." She snickered, joining Hayley on the couch as the woman shifted into a sitting position, the blanket slipping down to her waist to reveal a noticeable bump. She was pregnant though not very far along. "Spooked doesn't cover it—you've got everyone walking on eggshells around us now." The werewolf turned so her back was facing her, the woman giving a sly look over her shoulder to which America huffed, smiling indulgently.
"You're needy," she muttered as she reached out to press her fingers into the tense muscles on Hayley's back. "As for everyone I've spooked, it's for good reason. I've got to keep them on their toes. Personally, I think I'm doing them a favour." She quipped, smiling softly to herself as the strap of Hayley's gown shifted, showing a glimpse of a birthmark, a pale crescent moon hidden inside. America blinked herself back into reality, aware that too much time had passed where she stood motionless, staring unseeingly. Klaus was unphased, knowing what had happened.
Hayley, on the other hand, was startled into stillness by her sudden unresponsiveness. That was, until, America moved and found her gaze, eyes a sea of colours she couldn't quite pinpoint. The wolf tensed, knowing danger when it was present. "That mark. . ," her voice was barely above a whisper, "were you born with it?" Hayley blinked owlishly, perplexed by the abrupt question with no pre-context. "What?" The woman looked to the shoulder where she knew the birthmark lay on the back of it. "The mark on your right shoulder." Surprise and caution were instant but America was as calm as she could be.
Her anger and bitterness had all but dissipated—there would be little of it left if the woman before her was who she thought her to be. It would make the easy-going nature of the vision make sense. "How do you know about that?" Hayley demanded, her hand raising to unconsciously cover the topic of their conversation. "What mark?" Klaus had grown interested in the turn taken, appearing beside his lover. America tore her eyes away from Hayley to find Klaus' gaze, "The mark, Nik. The mark on her shoulder is a Crescent Moon." The change was instantaneous, the man's expression morphing into disbelief, all humour gone.
"That's. . . impossible. I searched, they killed them all." The woman inhaled shakily, feeling too much and everything at once. For a brief moment, it reminded her of when she was first turned and she had little to no emotional control. Klaus taught her to focus, to find interest in literally anything around her and channel everything into that emotion or object. She revisited that advice again, focusing her attention on what the man had said. "Wait. . . you searched? You knew them?" He made a face at her inquiry and she exhaled a barely-there laugh as she felt his crushed hope that she'd have left that bit alone.
And then his sheepishness. "I kept. . . tabs on them." Five presumably meaningless words and they brought about a warmth she hadn't felt in some time. America had so much she wanted to say to that reveal alone but Hayley intercepted, looking between the pair with narrowed eyes. "Hey, if you don't mind sharing with the class? And, answering my question. How the hell do you know about my birthmark?" When the woman turned to the wolf, there was a heavy air of power present. "I do believe that you were looking for your family, Little Wolf?"
A glare, "I swear—I've had too many people tell me that they know this and that when really, they've got jackshit. Don't joke about this, not—it's the only thing—" America stepped forward, all aggression gone and Hayley could sense that but she also had a sense of self-preservation. She cut herself off, angling her body away from the woman. "That birthmark belongs only to werewolves from a certain pack. They were native to what's now Louisana. When vampires found out about their existence, they were hunted down and killed in the 90s."
Hayley's eyes widened, "I was born in 1991. I never knew my parents." America hummed, falling into old habits as she began fidgeting with her diamond bracelet. "They were probably some of the last left making their final sacrifice protecting you." The brunette frowned, eyebrows furrowed as she diverted her eyes to the floor. "But. . . that doesn't tell me—" The woman cocked her head, "where you come from? Who your family was? Is there anyone left?" A slow nod. "New Orleans would be a good place to start to find out where specifically, but the last two are. . . pretty easy, I think."
Hayley seemed hopeless as she looked at her, drained of fight where her history was concerned. America knew, without a doubt, that this was the closest the woman had come to any answers. "The family you were born into, the family you are a part of. . ," she smiled, "descended from my bloodline." Hayley's exhaled sharply, her lips parting in shock. "When I recognized you when we first met? It wasn't because of Tyler. You're my blood."
~
Hayley, understandably, took some time to process what America had just laid on her but there were no true negative emotions like anger or bitterness. There was guilt and hope and wariness, all of which America sensed but left for the woman to sort through at her own pace. They were still in Klaus' gallery, Hayley moving wordlessly to sit down and think while America turned to Klaus, her body posture screaming mischief. The man wasn't at all inclined for her badgering but he was prepared to surrender to the first sign of playfulness he had seen from her in weeks. "Psst."
The pair paused to look at the door that had been cracked open, a head of blonde hair and big, green eyes peering inside. A little saviour she was and America voiced as much, a ghost of a smirk on her lips as she glanced at her lover. "You get away now." She teased as Rosie bounded into the room. The young girl ran into her leg, wrapping her arms around her waist as she greeted them both, gaze falling onto Hayley the moment she noticed the brunette. The couple watched the two curiously, growing amused at the interaction that transpired.
Hayley had looked up, sensing the six-year-old's gaze and had reflexively put her defences up, "Can I help you?" America had to muffle a snort when Rosie narrowed her eyes at her, "Can I help you, please. Uncle 'Lijah wouldn't like you very much—he values manners." Klaus didn't hide his chuckle and the man, as a result, found his arms full of the tiny blonde. "Ha! Mom said that'd work." America needed both of her hands to hold back her laughter as Klaus peered around Rosie to narrow his eyes at her. She pressed her lips together, desperately trying and failing to hide her smile.
"I did not." She had, in fact, constructed an entire lecture for Rosie teaching that if she just sprinted and leapt at any of the really stubborn Mikaelsons, they would indeed catch and hold her as the touch-starved individuals wanting for affection that they were. "Yeah, she did not." America barked a laugh, unable to help herself at the sheer conviction in Rosie's voice despite her earlier words. She only laughed harder when the blonde turned back to wink at her with a cheeky smile. That got another chuckle out of Klaus that only seemed to make the girl happier. Rosie was practically glowing.
"Hey, Nik," the man looked at her, eyebrow arched, "the thing. It's almost time for the thing!" America, still giggling, arched an eyebrow at the none-too-subtle hinting of the blonde, tilting her head as she watched the girl shoot backward glances she believed were sneaky. Klaus looked more than done but fondly so as he nodded his farewell to both women, turning to approach the door. "Of course, pup." America's grin was instantaneous as well as the widening of Rosie's eyes, her eyes lighting up with pure delight. The woman gave the young girl a thumbs up as she laid her head down on Klaus' shoulder.
Feeling much lighter, America turned her head to glance at Hayley, the woman watching the door with an unsure expression. There was a sliver of envy in her scent. "You're welcome to stay for as long as you'd like." Naturally, she got guarded skepticism in return. "Us suddenly being family can't change the fact that you hate me. Everything you said. . . you were right. It is partially my fault. How can you just put that aside?" The woman shrugged, "Pretty easily, actually. My best friends all have something they've done that should have ended us but they're no less important to me.
"And Nik, don't even get me started on what he's done in the past year and yet," she gave a pointed look to the brunette, "here he and I are. You give people a chance and they can become someone really important to you. So that, Hayley, is what I'm giving you."
-
"Is this the thing?" A huff of amusement, "That child couldn't keep a secret if her life depended on it." America snickered, dutifully following Klaus as he led her through the forest. They'd driven half-hour outside of town, the woman blindfolded the moment she'd gotten dressed up in the clothes Klaus had laid out on their bed for her. The excitement she felt was something she hadn't been privy to in some time. "I am legally required to object—is that gravel?" It had been crunching under her heels for some time but she'd been distracted by trying to guess where they possibly could've gone that it had been background noise.
"Legally required?" America didn't miss how he avoided her question, huffing softly as she let him distract her. "Yup, Elijah brought up law to Ro—he taught her about legal contracts about a week ago and she wrote me up one. I have to be her princess in shining armour for an indeterminate amount of time." Beside her, Klaus chuckled. "Shouldn't you have taught her to think on decisions like those rather than sign without further notice?" He let go of her hand and as the gravel grew less harsh—softer—she could sense there were trees that bracketed them now. "Oh, I didn't sign it."
He was behind her, a hand tugging at the ties of the blindfold. "I pinky promised which is worse actually." Leaning back into Klaus as his arms wound around her waist, America pulled away the silk cloth that had been obscuring her vision for the better part of an hour. Blinking a few times as she looked around at her surroundings, the smile forming on her face was slow but delighted as her eyes followed the established and illuminated grass path that led to the pale white door of the cottage. "This. . . when. . ?" She had little words, eyes gleaming in the light of the house. There had been a lot that she had expected but an entire home. . . was not one of them.
"It's been in the making for some time now—just under six months, I believe." He slid from behind her, taking her hand as he did and leading her along the path. "I had already established the schematics, I just needed the workers and the hybrids were eager to help as a thank you for all you had done for them." He opened the front door for her and inside. . . it was even better inside. It led directly into a beautifully decorated and well-lit living room and her eyes flitted around, taking in every detail down to the paintings above the fireplace that were none other than Rosie's. She laughed upon seeing them, her heart warming at the sight. "Six months?"
America pulled away from him to explore the home entirely. "We weren't together then." There was a shelf next to the fireplace and it was filled with figurines. "We weren't." Opening the glass door and peering closer, her chest constricted as she recognized one she had made for Nate—one that had had his ashes enclosed. She'd never gotten around to making ones for the twelve that had been murdered but. . . it seemed someone else had. "Rosanna told me what you had done for Nate and after. . . after the others, I found no reason not to commemorate them for your sake." And mine, went unsaid.
And commemorate he did. Some of them had ashes inside but one or two did not. Mindy's—a hybrid Elijah had killed months ago—and Kimberly, one who had died by America's own hand. A hand with a noticeable tremble returned the wolf to the shelf, the woman biting down on her bottom lip at the sudden wave of emotion. Only the living room and she was near breaking down at the sheer overwhelming feeling of joy. All of this. . . the house had been thoroughly thought out and put together down to the tiny decorations inside. When she turned, Klaus was right there, standing before her.
The look in his eyes as he looked down at her made her choke up and what she could feel through the bond. . . a lump formed in her throat and it was near impossible to swallow the rising tears. His answering smile was soft and his touch was tender as he brushed away a stray tear, "I suppose it won't make you any less emotional to know that this house. . . I had it built in our meadow." Her eyes widened and her lips parted in shock and once that was processed, the sheer delight she felt was indescribable. "I hate you." The sentiment was ruined spectacularly by her tears and a wide smile.
The man's pleasure was as palpable as her own as he leaned in, "On the contrary, sweetheart, I believe you feel the exact opposite." America reached up and tugged at the lapels of his jacket, bringing him closer until their lips brushed. "Mhm," she hummed, peering up at him through her lashes, "and I'd be happy to show you just how much." Klaus closed the last of the distance between them before the second after she'd finished had even ticked by. America smiled against his lips as she pulled his body flush against hers.
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