Tears of Gold | Klaus Mikaelson (3)

In Your Corner

"This place is a fucking mess," I spat at no one in particular. In fact, I wasn't sure anyone was home as I went around the entirety of the compound vacuuming up 5 years' worth of spider webs and dead bugs. I hadn't slept much that night. Every time I tried, I'd be met with some version of a dream where Klaus was trying to kill me, and I would stand no chance of getting away.

I couldn't understand the dreams in the same way I couldn't understand the dreams I kept having of my assault in Mystic Falls. Out of nowhere, they would consume every moment of sleep. Ten minutes or ten hours, they never ceased. It was beginning to grow rather tiresome, as sleeping was one of my favorite past-times. 

I switched off the vacuum and sighed in relief. Finally, after nearly three hours of going room to room, vacuuming every crevice, every mousehole, I was certain I had finished my job. I beamed, looking at my surroundings, which were still terribly unkempt. 

I guess I had my work cut out for me. 

Klaus walked past me without a word, eyes downcast. He plopped onto the couch and ran his hand down his face, looking as if he hadn't slept in forever. 

"Why do you look like you listen to My Chemical Romance?" I questioned, wrapping the remainder of the vacuum cord around the machine. "What's wrong?" I sat next to him.

"Nothing."

"Real convincing."

"Must you always?"

"Yes. Now, what's wrong?"

He stared at me for a few seconds, hesitating. I continued to grow more worried, as he never really hesitated to share things with me. The only upside of having been separated for five years was his improved communication. Perhaps he realized he could entirely trust me, or that not everyone wanted to use his emotions against him, but either way, he had been opening up more to me in the past few weeks than he did in the years we spent together prior. 

"My daughter nearly died, I have to make sure the threat to her is over."

"Okay, well, right now she's with Elijah and Hayley, safe in the Bayou. But that's not all you're worried about, is it? I've known you for, what, seven years now? You can't lie to me. I'm a genius," I lectured, "Seriously, tell me what's going on." 

He stayed silent.

"Any minute now, Klaus."

"Fine," He sighed annoyedly and sat up, "Ever since the ritual, I've been having these... visions. I think I'm being haunted by whatever I saw during the spell."

"Like 'Exorcist' haunted or 'Hereditary' haunted?"

"Emma..."

"I just need a clear reading on the situation!" I replied, "Whatever. Sorry. I'll stop making jokes, although they are hilarious and I'm very funny. Please elaborate."

"My eyes keep turning blue," he began.

"Well, that's probably because you have blue eyes."

"Electric blue, Emma," He said, "And whenever they change color, I have a vision of my father. Each one looks different, but they all basically say the same thing... kill Marcel, before he kills you."

Worry began eating away at me. "Talk to Freya, please." I asked, "Seriously. She could do a cleansing spell or something. Do it sooner than later, especially if they become more frequent." 

"I know," He sighed.

I didn't know what else to say. Out of all the ways a ghost could choose to torment him, it chose his dad. The root of practically all of his troubles. "Don't be sad," I smiled softly, "As soon as we get rid of this nuisance of a ghost, Hope will be fine. Whatever comes afterward we'll all face together. And I'm always in your corner anyway."

He stared at me for a few moments, expression unreadable, and then his hand ghosted over my cheek. He was gone a moment later. 

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