Chapter 2: Strangers

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Dim lights shined from the ceiling on a large array of seats filling the theatre. People in the audience were all wearing fancy suits or eloquent dresses.

Klaus and Rebekah were in the box seats that looked over upon the stage. Rebekah got up from her seat to searh for Marcel who was in the lobby.

As she left, the hybrid spoke, "See if you can find our brother while you're there. Curtain is about to go up." 

Rebekah's departure left Klaus alone in the box seats.

He felt something sharp press against his back and he sensed someone sit in the seat behind him. The voice that filled his ears made him freeze in his spot. It was a voice that he hated, and it belonged to someone who caused him more pain than anyone in the world. And it was a voice he would always recognize. Mikael.

"I would advise agaisnt trying to flee, boy," Mikael threatened as he held the white oak stake against Klaus' upper back, near his heart. "I can drive this into your heart before you can even think of getting to your feet." 

His step-father continued, "I don't want you to die...yet."

"Father," Klaus started, only to be cut off by Mikael.

The man interrupted. "Father?" He chuckled mockingly. "Still clinging to that word after all these years?" He leaned in close to Klaus. "A bastard desperate for a daddy," he taunted. "I wonder if your real father would be as embarrassed as I was of you before I discovered that you were not mine."

Klaus tried to move, and Mikael adjusted his position. "Easy now, boy." He reprimanded. "Don't worry, death will come. But we need to have a little chat before you shuffle off your immortal coil."

"Any words we have for each other have been spoken long ago," Klaus rebutted through clenched teeth. "But, know this, I am no longer the animal begging for scraps of your affection. I will die, knowing my hatred of you is just. I will fall, proud of all I have achieved here, so, Mikael," he spoke his name with venom, "If you are going to kill me, then get on with it."

Mikael responded by telling him about how he knows of his achievements. And that after he kills him, he will kill every last person who remembers him, so that no one will remember him or the kingdom he created in the land of New Orleans. He ends his villain-plan-telling by uttering the words, "And you, boy, will never have existed." 

As the lights in the theatre dimmed, signaling the show is about to begin, Mikael informs the hybrid he made some 'alterations' to the show.

The curtains rise and it is revealed that Marcel, barely conscious, is staked to a cross on the stage. An audience, who was compelled by Mikael to clap, cheered and laughed as though it was a stellar comedy performance.

Klaus rushed onto the stage to the man he had seen as a son in an attempt to save him. He pulled one of the items out of Marcel that was holding him against the cross, only to be pushed back and stabbed by Mikael. Rebekah then attempted to intervene. But she was stabbed in the stomach and thrown back as well, leaving both her and Klaus on the ground. The hybrid pushed himself back up and tried to run at Marcel, who Mikael was now drinking the blood of, only to be held back by Elijah. "There's no helping, Marcel," Elijah said, emotion dripping into his voice. "We must run."

And so they did. And Klaus was left heartbroken and left feeling as though he was all the things Mikael ever called him. He was left feeling weak, pathetic, and beaten like the dog his 'father' believed him to be. He was left feeling like a failure, a boy incapable of succeeding as long as his step-father was alive, and a person who didn't deserve happiness. He was left feeling broken.

He was a man who lost the last little scraps of him that felt human.

And when the Mikaelsons looked back at the theatre after fleeing it, they watched it get consumed in flames, as Mikael had set it on fire. The home they had created was gone forever, and with it a member of their family.

Or, up until this point, so they thought.

In the pub, Marcel seemed to notice someone was staring at him.

His head turned to find the cause. He locked eyes with Klaus Mikaelson. "Klaus."

The hybrid offered the the same greeting. "Marcel."

Returning his stare to the hybrid, he voiced, "Must be a hundred years since that nasty business with your papa."

"Has it really been that long?" Klaus asked as he walked forward.

The really-talented-singer-dude responded, "The way I recall it, he ran you out of town. Left a trail of dead vampires in his wake."

"And yet how fortunate you managed to survive." Despite his words, Klaus seemed a bit bitter. It might have had something to do with the fact that he thought Marcel was dead. Then, he added, "My father, I'm afraid, I've recently incinerated to dust." He took another step that placed him right in front of Marcel.

The action caused several of Marcel's buddies to move forward, behind Marcel, in a protective manner that said 'I'm ready to throw some hands in this karaoke bar.'

"Well, if I had known you were coming back in town, if I had been given a heads-up—" The vampire started.

Klaus felt the need to interrupt. "What, Marcel? What would you have done?" He managed to step even closer to Marcel, a dark, threatening look in his eye.

But Marcel knew how to soothe a conversation from growing into violence. "I'd have thrown you a damn parade."

Both Klaus and Marcel began laughing and pulled each other in for a hug.

When they pulled away from the hug, Marcel held Klaus' shoulders as he spoke, "Niklaus Mikaelson. My mentor, my savior, my sire. It's nice to have you back."

"It's nice to be back," the blond responded with a smile.

Marcel sent him a smile in return. "Let's have a drink."

The pair went to the bar, engaging in bits of small talk and too many glasses of hard liquor to count.

When Klaus walked back to the apartment he had in New Orleans, he couldn't help but think back to Percy.

It's been so long since he had seen her. And even though he just spent time with someone who he used to be close with, the hybrid still felt lonely.

She wasn't here. She wasn't here and he hated it. He had sent countless texts, voice messages and calls, hoping and clinging for something—anything. But there was nothing.

His siblings planned on joining him in New Orleans but they hadn't arrived yet. Right now, it was just the hybrid. He was a lone wolf. Or as Percy would say, a lone puppy.

His walls have come back up. The parts of him that had softened had become cold and dangerous once more.

And he also couldn't help but notice how different things were between him and Marcel now. After all, a lot of time has passed since they last saw each other all those years ago.

Now it felt as though they were closer to being strangers than they were to being family.

Percy would know exactly what to say. He couldn't help but think. She was always so good at this stuff.

chapter 2? a day later?? woah, feels like old me :)

but my loves, don't put expectations on me please LMAO

with all the love, shay

fun fact: i have a pinched nerve in my neck and the pain is excruciating. ouchies.

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