My eyes darted between them, Klaus, Hayley.

The child she carried.

My heart lurched, thank god for the wall to my side. My hot palm cooled against it while my lungs worked to lower my breath. My mouth felt dry but perspiration formed against my forehead, I felt claimed by an unfaltering dizziness.

She came in so suddenly I couldn't have reacted any differently than I had. Which was speechless, shocked…stupefied. It took me those three seconds to put two and two together.

Klaus, Hayley.

The child, the baby; their daughter.

Grief was destroying me every single second. It rolled into shock, and just billowed up and down my spine mercilessly.

The silence held awkwardness, saying what words did not.

Her hand wrapped around the baby protectively, pressing her to her chest. I saw her full on, the baby, stark blue eyes capturing me. Her Mikaelson eyes nearly distracted me from her mother's lips and nose.

In that moment I looked away. The tears began to sting my eyes; I cocked my head away from them, biting my lip to stifle the swell in my throat.

The second true heartbeat mocked me, deliberate and strong, while I clenched a fist to my own stomach. Nothing could ever exist in that cavity; nothing lived in any part of me.

I am dead.

She is not.

She carried his child.

Something I could never do.

I waited for an explanation, a word, a mutter; anything.

Slowly, I began to realize that there wasn't one. This was a miracle; a simple fluke in the universe, a bend in the spectrum, something so incredibly bizarre that it had to manifest despite every single law of nature.

She exhaled, at a loss for words, and began to back away. I caught one last glimpse of the miracle baby before they disappeared out the door they blew in from.

And then we were alone.

He and I.

I turned to face him and his eyes searched mine, pleading with me to understand. I know what he wanted to say, that she was before us, before we were together.

But just as I am his before, she is his after.

I wished I could press my forehead against his; his hand would easily cup mine. I wished I could say nothing has changed, that we could still be together despite everything.

He stepped toward me, his hand outstretched. Reaching for me as if I'm about to fall out of his grasp forever. He took my hand into his and pressed it to his lips.

I closed my eyes and felt the moist droplets flee from my lashes and slip down my cheeks.

I will never be okay with this, I wish I could say.

I can't pretend to look the other way. She will now always be a part of his life, and they shared something so magnificent together; a child. A child that was half of him and half of her, a perfect combination of their looks, greatness, and flaws. A bond between them that would last a lifetime.

Even when she's gone, buried into the ground and trees sprouting from her grave, he will always treasure her because she mothered his child.

I retracted my hand and clasped my palms together.

My lips curl into the biggest smile I could muster, and although he still frowned, I know he understood.

"She's really beautiful." I mutter so softly I wonder if he's heard me.

I turned my back to him and my shoulders collapsed.

"Calla." He breathed, despite his frustration the pride swelled as his voice carried, "Her name is Calla."

My hands engulfed my mouth and nose, resting just beneath my eyes as I walked away; my pathetic attempt to physically keep the tears at bay.

When I finally stepped out the door, I was consumed by my emotions.

I tried to lie to myself, that he was never right for me, I deserved better and I had my whole life ahead of me while her life had been thrown away.

But I couldn't convince myself of any of these things as envy tore me apart from the inside out. I felt cheated, more so than I ever had before; the heavy stones piling on top of me, my lungs screaming for air.

It was selfish and desperate, but I couldn't help but think that could've been me.

I wished for different circumstances, another life, a re-do. My fleeting hope was a string I could barely hold on to as I took one step at a time until I was on the street.

I hated every morsel of this, as I sobbed into my hands.

I wish it was me.

A/N: Why did I do this to myself?

Tragically beautiful or just plain tragic? I'm totally warming up to this plotline because I love angsty Caroline finding out about the baby child and I just might write 5 more oneshots to prove it.

Why Calla? Um, it means beautiful, it's one of my fav names right now and idk Klaus-Hayley-Klayley-Calla… it just fit okay!?

Inspired by (and the title from) "Say Something" by a Great Big World ft. Christina Aguilera

Thanks for reading lovelies!