Blue ▹ The Originals [2]

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
SINS OF THE FAMILY

"What do we say to the god of death? Not day."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

     Henrik spent the next few hours drifting in and out of restless sleep. He was aware of his siblings and Hayley talking around him, but he couldn't focus on much of anything. He jerked fully awake twice, once to Elijah draping a blanket over him, and another time to Hope wailing at the top of her little lungs. When he finally came back to consciousness, he was immediately attacked with a fit of rough, painful coughing. He rolled until his chin was at the edge of the couch, coughing blood onto the floor. It was splattered with dried blood. He wondered how many times he coughed while asleep, how many times a member of his family had to roll him over just so he wouldn't choke.

Did it really count as sleep, he wondered, if he had no choice in the matter? He thought it wasn't, but he was trying to be positive. That was what Francis would have wanted, right? For him to stay positive? Unfortunately, it was hard to do that when his entire body was wracked with pain. It was doubly hard when he knew that he was dying. It was quite hard to be optimistic in the face of something like that.

"I suppose we should have prepared for this," he found himself saying, pressing his head back into a throw pillow. He curved onto his side a second later, feeling his stomach jerk with nausea. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself, groaning under his breath. "It was only a matter of time before karma caught up with our family."

"Perhaps it's what we deserve after what we did to Davina," Kol said. He was in a worse state than Henrik was, thrashing in his spot and hissing through clenched teeth. Freya was trying to keep him still, since more movement meant the venom worked through his system faster.

"Davina didn't want revenge, okay?" Freya asked, sounding desperate as she pressed a cold washcloth against Kol's forehead. Kol pushed her away, utterly exasperated.

"Just put me out of my misery!" Kol cried out. "At least put me to bloody sleep!" Freya slowed her movements at that, looking at Kol thoughtfully with a frown, before she glanced over at Henrik. He was staring at the coffee table, eyes bloodshot so much that it was worrying. Freya waited until Kol calmed down before she got to her feet and went to Henrik, kneeling down to press the cloth against his cheek. Henrik's eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks as he tried to keep his eyes open. He let out a soft sigh when he felt the cloth against his hot skin.

"You should rest," he murmured, noting how pale she looked, how much her hands were shaking. She shook her head, as stubborn as ever. She wouldn't be a Mikaelson if she wasn't.

"Putting you to sleep," she whispered, pushing his hair off his forehead. "Casting a spell to freeze your body like it is right now. Would it save you?" Henrik murmured an affirmative. He wanted to add that it was only a temporary solution, wanted to point out that when he woke up he'd be right back to dying. He just didn't have the strength to say so many words. Freya sighed in relief and placed a gentle hand on his cheek, patting it until he opened his eyes again. "We can stay asleep until there's cures for us all. Could you recreate the spell for the cure out of memory alone?" He didn't answer for a long moment, long enough for her to pat his cheek again, harder this time. It came dangerously close to a slap. "Henrik, you have to focus."

"What?" he murmured, voice weak. His eyes kept falling shut without him even noticing. It took him a moment to process her question, but when he did, he forced himself to nod. "Yes. Yes, but I need the ingredients." Henrik frowned. "Freya, I can't—what are you gonna do? I don't—" His mind was working too slowly. The plan hadn't exactly clicked yet, which really didn't matter. He couldn't have possibly helped anyway. He stopped talking when Freya shushed him.