Honor Your Children

Rating: PG-13/T

Genre: Drama/Angst/Family

Summary: For the love_bingo challenge, prompt "I Want to Know What Love Is". Klaus can't wrap his mind around Esther's claim of forgiveness. Shameless family-fluff towards the end.

Author's Note: UFF, I just can't stop with the Original fluff. This family breaks my heart, it really does.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Vampire Diaries. It belongs to L.J. Smith/The CW.

()()

"Fathers and Mothers! Honor your children and love them."

-Otto Rank

()()

Klaus didn't get it.

If he had ever had a warm and cuddly relationship with his mother, if their relationship had ever been special, he might have had a better understanding of this situation. He might not have been quite so curious. He might not have wondered why, after returning from her grave, Esther had forgiven him for killing her.

Klaus knew a few things for certain: One, in the days of his humanity, you didn't cheat on your husband. Men had been known to throw unfaithful wives onto the street or even kill them. So having infidelity revealed was about the equivalent of everyone finding out that you'd committed a murder. So the guilt of Esther's affair with Klaus's true father must have been formidable in and of itself.

Two, you didn't bear a child of a man that wasn't your husband. It was partly a matter of bloodlines and inheritance, but in most cases, it was pride. And Mikael had had no shortness of pride. So her shame was made twice as bad by the fact that she had a living, constant reminder of her mistake. She had turned her back on Klaus for most of his life, apparently loving her husband more than him.

The third thing he knew, for certain, was that his parents had made mistakes. His mother had strayed. His father had pushed to have them turned to vampires, and she had complied. They'd gone through with it, and created a race of predators with heightened abilities and emotions.

But the shame of those mistakes had been focused on him.

Klaus was a bastard. Klaus was a hybrid. Klaus was the product of Esther's infidelity. Klaus was a monster. Klaus was a murderer. Klaus needed to be contained.

His chest burned with rage and misery, and he shifted in his bed. Klaus was lying on his side, arms crossed, staring at the wall. It had to be the middle of the night, and he wasn't certain if he was truly trying to sleep or just trying to think.

And he had plenty to think about.

Mother is back.

She says she forgives me.

Did he believe that? Could he believe that?

A small part of him that was still a little boy craving his mother's love wanted to say "yes". He wanted to believe that it was true.

But Klaus had never deluded himself into his own lie of love. When you spent the majority of your life being stabbed in the back and abandoned by the people that should have cared the most about you, you learned to stop loving. You learned to forget what it was like.

To date, the man he'd called father had treated him like horse-crap. His mother had isolated her affections from him and killed a woman he'd loved. Elijah had fought with him over Tatia and Katerina and abandoned him following Katerina's escape. Rebekah had more or less been prepared to abandon him for Stefan. Finn had been on Mikael's side from the beginning, and Kol was just ornery (they'd never gotten along).

Who do you have, other than those whose loyalty you've forced?

Klaus scrunched his face sharply as Mikael's words invaded his mind unbidden, unwelcome. They stung, and it was because they rang true.

The point was, Klaus did not have room for love. Because love meant caring, and caring about someone and then having them betray you just hurt. It hurt worse than a dagger to the stomach, and he knew what that felt like because Rebekah had just stabbed him with one the other night.

If he had to guess, he'd learned to stop feeling love sometime around Elijah's betrayal. He'd had a little left for Rebekah, but it completely and unequivocally disappeared when he'd been forced to dagger her. With neither of his faithful siblings left, his only loved ones, he gave up. Didn't bother. Didn't feel like going through the effort of giving his heart to someone just so they could tear it in half again.

He huffed and rolled onto his back.

Part of the issue was that Klaus was now living under the same roof with four very pissed-off siblings and the mother he'd murdered. That would give any number of people a few or more sleepless nights. No question.

But it was Esther that he was worried about, because Esther was the wall between him and his siblings. They couldn't kill him, but they didn't have to in order to make him miserable. The only thing stopping them was the mother that they'd always loved and respected coming back from the dead and gently forcing them to stay in the house and make up with Klaus. A thousand years later and she could still silence or summon them with a single word.

But Klaus didn't get it.

How could she forgive him? He'd killed her. He'd done plenty of other awful things, but in particular, he had killed her. At this point, Klaus was the kind of person that would kill you for knocking his coffee over, so the level of… Compassion Esther was currently displaying simply did not compute.

She wants something.

She's up to something.

It wouldn't surprise him if she had a scheme in store, because Esther had always been clever. Like his siblings, before he'd shut himself off and killed her, Klaus had been in awe of their mother. Her slyness, her confidence, her gentleness, her strength- She was an amazing woman, and it had always caused him pain to be treated differently from the others. So much pain.

Why now?

Why does she want to play the happy-family game now?

What was her plan? What did she want? Why was she acting like she'd forgiven Klaus, because surely she couldn't have forgiven him for what he'd done? She couldn't have forgiven him for what he'd done to her and their family. Because she and Mikael had set the split into motion, but Klaus had cemented it.

It's my fault.

NO.

No. It wasn't his fault. She and Mikael had done this. He'd never killed anyone before he'd become a vampire. He'd never wanted to kill anyone before he'd become a vampire. The sight of blood had even made him a little queasy on occasion. He had never been a killer. They'd done that to him. If he hadn't been turned into a vampire and then by connection a hybrid, he never would have gone off and killed Esther. Never.

She had to hate him.

She had to.

She certainly couldn't love him.

He literally could not see how it was possible, and a thousand years worth of betrayal had cemented the idea that love was a flimsy, breakable and now very foreign thing that he couldn't wrap his mind around anymore, never mind feel. Love meant nothing. Love was nothing. And he'd lost any understanding of why everyone thought that it was so important.

His mother didn't love him.

So that had to mean that she was angry, hated him.

Which meant that she was going to try and kill him (maybe).

No, not maybe- Would.

Klaus grabbed his pillow and smashed it over his head, for the first time in a long time seriously wishing that he was still capable of suffocating.

Maybe she doesn't hate me, per se.

It was a possibility. There was always indifference to consider. But indifference, that being that Esther simply didn't care about Klaus, was even worse than hatred in a way. Hatred meant caring enough to actually put energy into feeling it. Indifference meant that Klaus meant so little to her that she wasn't going to waste any energy feeling anything at all for him.

Could he handle indifference better than hatred? Indifference implied a lesser threat. Hatred implied a possibility of schemes and death. While that tiny, hushed part of him wanted Esther's affection, the rest of him was convinced that he didn't need it. He'd come to terms centuries ago that she didn't love him, and it was better to leave the perfectly good band-aid on than rip it off only to find that he needed a new one.

But this was driving him insane.

All he had was speculation. Theory. Assumptions. He had nothing to contradict Esther's claim other than what he believed to be true, and he had nothing to support it other than her word. And he didn't know what her word meant anymore.

She could be planning now.

Or she could be asleep.

Whenever she wanted to do something his father didn't like, she did it late at night. Mainly spells that Mikael had thought would overtax her strength. But Klaus knew for certain that she'd done at least one other late-night thing that Mikael had most certainly not approved of (He had the werewolf gene to prove it).

His anxiety was increasing.

It had been a long time since he'd felt this level of anxiety. Before, when presented with a threat of this caliber (and he wasn't sure how long it had been since he'd faced one like this), he'd only had to run away. Escape. Seclude himself. But he couldn't get away now, and Klaus couldn't decide what would make him more paranoid: Being in the same house as Esther, or being far away and not knowing what she was up to.

Without even fully thinking it through, Klaus launched himself out of bed and barreled out of his room towards his mother's.

He didn't hear so much as a stir, so his siblings were either asleep or not home. Elijah and Finn could be reading; Kol and Rebekah didn't have the same capacity for stillness and patience. He navigated to Esther's room in a matter of seconds, shoving the door open and almost stomping his way inside. The room was dark.

Esther was still human (Was she, truly? He didn't know), and it seemed that she actually needed to sleep. She appeared to be out cold when he entered the room, and all Klaus could think about was how stupid she was to not have some kind of spell or protection on the door or her bed or something in case the son that had killed her once tried to do it again (The idea that she could trust him not to do so was so ridiculously absurd that he didn't even consider it).

He strode over to the bed, sat down on the edge and gripped his mother's shoulder, grip relaxing when he remembered that whatever she was she wasn't a vampire and he could break her bones if he squeezed too hard.

"Mother. Mother."

Esther jerked slightly, head lifting off the pillow reflexively. Rebekah had helped their mother adjust her clothing and style to that of the modern day. Esther's hair was short now, just a little past her shoulders. It was odd not seeing the full length anymore (and odder that that still registered after a thousand years away from her).

"Mm… Hm?" Her eyes flickered, then opened. She did a double-take when she saw Klaus. "Niklaus- What is it? Are the-?"

Esther caught herself, and Klaus saw the confusion followed by realization cross her face as she thought. She'd probably been just about to ask about whether or not there was a fox going after the chicken coop, or if a bear was poking a little too close to the edge of the forest, or if maybe one of the wolf-men had come to call.

And he saw her remember that a thousand years had passed, and they were in a large house with solid, solid walls and doors and windows with glass, and that they didn't have any livestock that needed protecting and no bear in their right mind would come this close to a residence so far into town.

The wolf-men were still a problem, of course, but presently they weren't an issue.

"What's wrong, Niklaus?"

Klaus was acutely aware of the fact that his breathing was still very heavy. "What do you want?" Esther's brow furrowed as though she'd been completely thrown for a loop.

"What?"

"What do you want? I know you don't forgive me."

A bit of understanding flashed through Esther's eyes. "Niklaus-"

"You can't forgive me." Klaus jumped off the edge of the bed and began to pace back and forth beside it. Esther slowly sat up, watching him with concern. "If Rebekah and the others can't forgive me for killing you, then you can't possibly. If they can't forgive me for daggering them and sticking them in coffins and hauling them around from place to place, then you can't forgive me for killing you and causing them pain."

"Niklaus-"

"Did they tell you I killed father? Did you know that?"

Esther's concerned expression went sad, and Klaus felt his chest tighten convulsively, painfully, and it felt like his throat was closing up. "I know that, Niklaus. I saw you do it." She'd seen a lot of things on the other side.

"Then why?" His voice was ragged, choked.

"Because you're my son, and I love you."

"I don't know what that means. Not anymore. Love doesn't cut it anymore, mother. Love doesn't mean anything."

"It means everything." Esther said quietly.

"No, it doesn't!" He was shocked to hear a slightly high-pitched quality to his tone. "Not when your son rips your heart out, not when he stabs your husband in the chest and kills him, not when he stabs your other children and locks them in coffins and keeps them like trophies!"

"Are you defending your sins or confessing to them, Niklaus?" She whispered, and he just hated the fact that after all these years she still didn't yell at him when she was angry. She'd never yelled. Raised her voice a bit to get his and his siblings' attention every now and then, but never really yelled. As awful as the arguments between him and Mikael had always been, at least the chance to scream at each other had had a bit of catharsis to it. In a sick sort of way.

"I just- I don't-" Klaus found himself on the edge of the bed again, head in his hands. "I don't get it, mother. I don't get it. I don't understand how you could not hate me for what I've done to you. To the family." He'd never deluded himself into thinking that what he'd done was right. He wasn't completely insane.

"Niklaus," Esther sighed, shut her eyes. "You don't have children. If you did, you would understand why I can't hate you. I'm certainly not happy with what you've gotten up to over the last thousand years-" So carefully she skirted around the 'and you kind of killed me' thing. "-but a real mother cannot manage true hatred for her child."

Her hand came up to stroke through Klaus's hair, and his chest contracted violently once more. Maybe it was because this was just too good to be true: He hadn't approached his mother following the revelation that he was not Mikael's son with the intention of killing her. He'd been angry with her, opposed to her, estranged from her, but he'd never truly intended to murder her. His rage, then newly overwhelming, had spiraled out of control before he could stop it.

"I was cruel," Esther said, "I neglected you. I loved you, but I know that my actions did not speak to a mother that loved her child. I cannot blame you for not believing that I could manage that kind of compassion for you now, in light of everything."

"Then how can you?" He croaked.

"Because when love is deep enough, you cannot simply choose to stop feeling it. You still do: You just bury it. I didn't stop loving you when I…" Esther trailed off and a glazed look came to her eyes.

Klaus couldn't tell if she was guilty for her infidelity or for the way she'd treated him, or maybe both. He didn't dare to hope that it was for the latter alone. "When you turned your back on me?" Esther flinched, and he almost regretted it. His tone was dark, cold, because believe it or not, that had actually caused him some serious suffering.

"…When I turned my back on you." Esther confirmed with a slight waver to her voice. "…It may be hard to believe, Niklaus, but I didn't stop loving you."

"Certainly felt that way."

"And I don't blame you for that." She said. "I can't blame you for feeling that way. It was my fault. I should have treated you better." Right, because retrospect was the best kind of vision. Especially when foresight (or a century in which understanding of a parent's effect on a child's psyche was better understood) might have prevented her and countless other people from being killed.

Still, there was something about the words 'it was my fault' that made Klaus feel funny. Esther had just admitted to doing something wrong. She had never done that before, at least not in front of him. He really wasn't certain how he was supposed to respond to such an admission, and she didn't seem to be looking for one.

"You're immortal, Niklaus." She whispered, pushing some hair behind his ear. "You will never die. Do you really want an eternal life of misery and pain and distrust? You can't be happy like this. You need to try and make things better with your brothers and sister again. Family is forever, and you won't have them if you can't convince them that you care about them."

"I care." He responded automatically, and couldn't tell if it was a lie or not. Could you care about someone without trusting them? Could you love someone and still not trust them?

"I know you do." Esther said. "I know you do, Niklaus. But you feel betrayed by them, and they feel betrayed by you. Your father set an example of pride for you all, and you've all adopted it- whether you notice or not." She added, because Klaus had given her a dark look of disbelief. "Niklaus, you've never been good at admitting when you're wrong. Neither has Elijah or Rebekah or Kol." It didn't escape his notice that she excluded Finn, and for good reason- He'd always been humble. "I've never excelled at admitting my faults either."

And as much as that has always annoyed Klaus, a part of him understood it. There was something about a parent admitting faults to their children that sounded unnatural. Inappropriate. Because to children, parents were never supposed to be wrong. But it would have been nice if, on occasion, when Klaus and his siblings were adults and they knew that their parents were human and not gods, they could have acknowledged that they weren't perfect.

"My point, Niklaus, is that it's better to lay things to rest. You will be with them forever. Wouldn't you rather have love between you all?"

"We've done just fine without it." Klaus almost cringed once the words were out, because only out loud did he realize how utterly stupid they sounded. Esther's lips twitched, and she raised an eyebrow at him.

"I can see that."

"We haven't killed each other yet, have we?"

Esther didn't say a word, and Klaus felt stupid again to remember that that was untrue: He had 'killed' each of his remaining siblings at one point or another. And he'd managed to permanently destroy their father.

"Wouldn't you like peace? Happiness? Being able to be with your siblings and not be frightened that they're conspiring against you?"

"I'm not scared of them!" Klaus snapped with renewed savagery, because he could handle being called paranoid, crazy, an evil bastard, but he would not be called a coward. Not by anyone. Mikael could attest to that (or rather, he couldn't).

"Not of them, Niklaus, but their supposed schemes." Esther's expression softened, and he could see how the centuries had changed her: Before she would have been sterner with him. Now she seemed more than abundantly compassionate. "But it's not just them. If you want peace with them, you need to stop your scheming as well."

And what of your schemes, mother?

She doesn't have any.

But she might.

"Why should I?"

"Because it will show them that you mean no harm. It will show them that you're deserving of their trust. And if they start to trust you, you will learn to trust them again. Wouldn't you like that, if you could be as close with Elijah and Rebekah as you once were?"

He would like that. But he wasn't going to tell her that.

"And how am I to trust you, mother?" Klaus made sure that his gaze held just enough venom when he met her eyes again. "You turned your back on me."

Esther was quiet for a moment, and Klaus hated that he couldn't read her expression. He hated not having any insight into her frame of mind or thoughts.

"I'm working on that, Niklaus. That's all I can do. But your brothers and sister are more important: They will be with you forever."

The silent 'I won't' remained unspoken.

"I suppose." He was so loath to admit it that it came out slightly hissed, mumbled and forced out between his teeth like an irritable child conceding an inarguable point to their parent (which Klaus, in many ways, still was).

"Don't you want their love?"

Yes.

The response in his head was so automatic that Klaus almost cringed. Love made you weak. Love made you stupid. Needing love was liable to make him into a fool. Consciously he didn't want it, but unconsciously, as real as the basic drives to acquire food and water and shelter was the craving for company, companionship- Love.

He wanted it.

But he wasn't sure… That he wanted it.

Contradictory though it may sound, it was somehow true.

Klaus sniffed, but Esther was his mother and knew him too well. That was the closest that she was ever going to get to a 'yes'. She smiled and wrapped her arms around her fourth child, pulling him into an embrace so that he could rest his head on her shoulder. His eyes still held a dark shade of concern, but she took it as a good sign when he didn't pull away, when he leaned into her the same way that he had as a young, young child.

Esther recalled those times and sighed.

She hadn't lied completely: She did love Niklaus. Mikael's child or not, murderer or not, monster or not, he was and always would be her baby.

But like his siblings, he was an abomination.

And they would all have to die for it. All she could hope for was that they would die with their differences and rivalries put to rest.

Esther slept that night, but she did not sleep well.

-End

Note: I think I left things fairly ambiguous as to when, precisely, this takes place. So you could argue that it comes right after 3.13 or 3.14.