Obscure | ᵀʰᵉ ᴼʳⁱᵍⁱⁿᵃˡˢ/ᵀʷⁱˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶜʳᵒˢˢᵒᵛᵉʳ ⁽ᴱˡⁱʲᵃʰ ᴹⁱᵏᵉᵃˡˢᵒⁿ⁾ [1]

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗; 𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚙

𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚙

    Scars tell stories.

    Stories that Rosalice didn't want to share.

    Elijah dropped Klaus' body to the ground watching as he stared up at him with nothing but quiet silenced agony he underwent through. Right at this moment he didn't care if he left him for centuries right at this moment he needed to save the woman carrying his child.

    Occasionally his mind flashed to him watching her being burned alive with a look of actual petrified fear.

    He hated it. Hated everything about this.

    He had saved Hayley after she called him telling him of the plantation burning down. Seeing that as a more pressing matter he saved her. Then went to save his siblings only to end up with her still gone.

    His bones crushed themselves, trying to torment and torture him to no end. He didn't hate it. He felt comfortable with it actually. Feeling something other than the guilt of not saving her.

    The original knew she was in the abandoned hospital. The woman he had come to date wouldn't have placed her somewhere entirely different, foreign far away from his siblings. If Klaus was the way he was acting surely he was meant to come across her and hurt her as well as payback against him for anything he did in the past.

    Standing there he had looped in the same area, going in a circle a thousand times. The sun is now rising high up in the sky, dawn becoming of them.

    Time being lost. He was losing time. Taking a sharp inhale he stands there frustrated. The same flashes entered his mind once again. Seeing her stare at him with an uncanny amount of fear that didn't look right for her features to have, gagged, tears running down her face as she fought her restraints trying to get out of the growing inferno of engulfing flames. He slammed his fist. Not realizing that his body physically punched a hole into the wall.

    His body went rigid, breathing heavily that it sounded as if he was out of breath, as if he had run a marathon when those weren't true but rather to calm his shaking body. His body shaking out of its own version of riddled well known Mikealson anger. His eyes darkened. Darkening from its bright shade of hazel brown to onyx. Black veins appear underneath where his eye bags should be just for a moment.

    His mind reeling to the single thought of her hurt. He laughs loudly, to himself, like a madman. If Celeste had so much tore a single hair strand he would call on the gods he once believed in his mortal years, Vidar the god of vengeance and more—and go after the witch and cast everything in his power to make her feel worst pain imaginable, more worse than what Klaus had done to her.

    Leaning his head against the wall of the crumpling foundation. He closes his eyes. Allowing instinct to overcome him. Allowing the beast from within to find her. As desperation called for it.

    Her scent stifled the air. The potent aroma made him grow with hunger but he plainly pushed that all down. This wasn't the time to subside his hunger. The time was to find her and bring her back to her home so she could find comfort and safety.

    His body relaxed with each passing moment as he grew familiar with her scent. The beast undying obsession to have more of a taste for her blood came knocking.

    Elijah's footsteps were the only thing that was heard in the abandoned building. Echoing down each hall. Turning down each one. Not being careful to make sure he knew his path.

    His eyes finally snap open her scent burning his throat. Right in front of him.

    The doors were no longer there. But in fact broke off overtime. There she was unconscious lying there arms and legs bound. Eyes shut. Waiting to be found by anyone. By Klaus. Thank god she wasn't. She looked in pain. His eyes carefully examined her. Hazel eyes landing on her arm, her wrists. Seeing one large red mark leading down connecting with her left wrist that looked to be scraped raw, scratching just more than under the first couple of layers of human skin.

    Long thick fingers grabbed a hold of the restraints of her legs, flexing his hand the metal bent at an odd shape before snapping within his hold. Raising back up he tore off the vervain laced ones. Not minding the stinging. He had been through worse—a vervain bomb thrown to his face in fact.

    Her eyes didn't flutter open like he half expected. Raising his warm hands he placed them just at her temple. Closing his eyes briefly. He focused on calling her out. Calling her back to reality.

    Everything was burning around her. And there was nothing she could do.

    Rosalice had to have must relieved this sort of event more than a hundred times. Watching as everything burned around her. Choking on the ashes of the building. Seeing as Elijah banged and banged but couldn't do anything. Klaus standing there smirking in his own amusement. Glad she was finally dying.

    Yet a part of her knew that they would never dare allow any harm to come across her. She lived with them for months now. In the beginning it was questionable but now right at this moment she couldn't think of Klaus placing a hand on it—always coming up with the obvious reason that she was mated with Elijah and Elijah would simply have his head if he were to hurt her. But some part of her still naive mind believed that he saw something in her, saw something to keep safe.

    Rosalice! Echoed through her mind. Repeatedly. Over and over again. That she had come to distinguish the voice of who it belonged to. Elijah.

    A breath of clean fresh air entered her lungs. Flickering back into the blinding light that wasn't of flickering flames. She looked at the man beside her. Standing over her. His hand fell from her temple, heading down to her raw wrist that twinged in pain.

    Suppressing a hiss of pain, she stares at him. Unsure of what to say.

    A growl left his lips, as a dark look overshadowed his features, "She did this to you?" It wasn't a true question, a rhetorical one. That Rosalice still answered. Slowly nodding her head. Another feral growl left his lips sounding more animalistic than the last. The noise rumbled through Rosalice's rib cage bouncing off each rib she had until it dropped. Her face flushing as he pulled her forward, his arms grasping a hold of her in such a gentle-like manner yet his body looked ready to snap her in half.

    "Elijah I can walk..." Her voice lost within itself as he didn't listen to her for the first time. His hand grasping underneath her knees and finding her lower back lifting her bridal style as if she didn't weigh anything to him. All she could do in the moment was lay her head on his shoulder and allow her body to find peace. Which was a hard effort to do.