Enigmatic Fears: A Klaus Mikaelson Story {7}

Chapter 30: Flat Stanley Style

"Hello Marcellus." I said with a beam as I looked at the boy who was playing with dolls and toy soldiers in his bedroom.

"Hello Fiore." He told me politely. "Would you like to join in with my game?"

"I had hoped you would ask." I grinned as I sat down with him. "What are we playing?"

"These soldiers are fighting to free their friends." He explained to me, and my smile faltered slightly.

"I see." I said with a nod. "Could Nik and Elijah play with us, perhaps?"

Marcel's body immediately shrunk, and he became closed off, just at the mention of the others and my suspicions were confirmed.

"If you would really like them to, then I suppose I wouldn't mind." He said quietly.

"They don't have to." I said, taking his hand and squeezing it gently. "It was merely a suggestion."

"I would prefer it to be just us." He told me.

"And why is that?"

"Because they're not like us." He said, his gaze cast downwards. "We're different."

"You mean because we're not white." I told him, my heart aching for him.

"They'll never understand." He murmured. "And they'll never accept us."

"They'll never truly understand what it's like to be us, I agree." I told him. "But Elijah and Nik and Rebekah will never stop trying to understand. And I promise you, they've accepted you. We chose you, Marcellus. And it was the easiest decision we've ever made. I love you, black or white. And the same goes for them."

"I just don't feel like I belong." He continued. "I'm scared one day they will tire of me. And I'll be back where I started." He sighed, and tears began to fill his eyes, a few manage to escape in his pain. "I will never really be a Mikaelson."

"And that is okay." I assured him as I turned to the soldiers. "They will not all have the same name, or the same race or social class, but they fight for the same cause. So, whilst you and I may not bear the Mikaelson name or race, we will all fight for the same cause. We're not Mikaelsons, but perhaps that's a good thing. It is good to embrace difference."

Marcel gave me a watery smile before pulling me into a tight hug. I was shocked by his forwardness but laughed and held onto him tightly.

"I love you, Mother."

My heart raced at his words as I had become used to the idea that I would not have a child of my own and yet, here he was. I hugged him tighter again and sighed happily.

"I love you too."

"Since when do you smoke?" Marcel surprised me as he came up from behind me. I sat on the balcony exhaling the grotty take of my cigarette.

"I've tapped in and out for most of my life." I told him as I stubbed it out. "I'm usually just better at hiding it."

"I came to apologise." He murmured quietly.

"You don't have to." I said with a shake of my head. "I overreacted before; I was just scared."

"No, you didn't." He replied as he sat down beside me. "Because you were right. I was ashamed of who I was before, and you made sure that I stopped feeling that. To embrace my differences. And you're right, my sister should not have to suppress a part of herself because a genocidal maniac wants her to."

"You wanted to save Hayley; I understand." I said with a nod of my head.

"But no one wants to save Hayley more than you do." He continued. "And from now on, I'll remember that. We don't negotiate with terrorists. Except Klaus."