I read somewhere once that each person experiences one great and terrible thing that will change their life forever. Almost like a climax, a turning point, the peak of a story. Each time something bad happened I always assumed that it was mine, each time, it always seemed to get worse. Nothing ever hurt as losing my child did, and nothing ever would. This, I knew, was my one horrific event. I waited for it to get better, for the climax to change the story and heroine drastically. But It never did. It's been four months.
I pulled the energy from the earth as I change back to my human form. Or hybrid form I guess. I busied myself dressing from the clothes line, a white top and shorts. The shirt is many sizes too big, a maternity shirt. I haven't got around to shopping for new clothes yet. I don't know why I do this to myself, surround myself with constant reminders. I began to walk around the land, letting myself get lost in the woodsy area.
It's been four months since I last saw my baby girl. I can't help but wonder what she looks like now. Has her hair grown out? Does Rebekah tell her about me. Is she crawling yet? These questions badgered my mind one that always stood out the most: Does she think Rebekah is her mom? Why wouldn't she? She's been with her for four months. Probably will be for quite a while.
My thoughts consumed me until I came up to a house. It's one I passed many times in wolf form. It was an old house, abandoned as it seemed. It was sad and sick, drooping and sagging. Holding my breath I walk up the steps and press on the aging door with the toe of my boot. The door creeped open and I pushed my way inside. The inside of the house isn't very different from the outside. Same sad and lonely furniture. An old rocking chair, a end table with a torn up lamp. Venturing around, I walked into the kitchen and rummage through the cabinets. Maybe the house drowns its sorrows in liquor and wouldn't mind sharing.
My search proved feeble, theres nothing there. I ran my hand along the counter, dust collecting on my finger tips. The house isn't that bad truthfully, hidden and desolate. I could picture it. Raising Hope here. In the middle of nowhere, just Klaus, Elijah and me. The thought almost brought a smile to my lips. My fingers stop at a box, filled with papers. I half heartedly look through them until I find one that is blank. I manage to find a pencil, dull but good enough. Taking a seat in the rocking chair and stare at the blank page.
Dear Hope,
Hi there baby girl. Today you are four months old. You must be getting big. I hope your being good for your aunty beks. I hope that she tells you about me, about how much I loved you, and your father too. It was supposed to be the other way around but we are busy making our home safe for you. So we can bring you home and be a happy family again. You'll finally get to be the princess that you are. Until then, we'll be busy getting your castle ready.
Love you,
mom
It was something I liked to do. Write letters to her. I could never send them though, so they sat in a box in my room, unread. Maybe one day they would finally be opened, but until then…. I folded up the paper sticking it in my back pocket. After sitting alone for a while I finally mustered the courage to go back to the compound. I always dreaded it. It's too hard to avoid Elijah's eyes, because I know he expects me to be something I'm not, the hope in his eyes burning, making me feel guilty and Klaus who couldn't even manage to look the same way as me. It was all too hard.
With a deep breath I walked into the compound, making my way up the stairs quietly, however it did no good because waiting at the top of the stairs was Elijah, looking as sharp as ever in his suit. "Welcome home Hayley."
"Elijah." I reply, not willing to meet his eyes.
"I don't think you should be spending so much time away. Especially after-" He started, taking a hold of my arm.
My eyes finally flick up to see him, his eyes bore into mine, still hopeful. I yank my arm away "The guerra attack, I know. The wolves aren't happy. I know Elijah. I can handle myself."
His voice is hard as he speaks "I know you can. I just…" He trailed off "I understand that you're going through a hard time but it wouldn't hurt to be here. Klaus just lost his child too."
"Do you?" I ask, my voice rising with anger. "Do you understand Elijah? How could you? You've never had your child ripped from your arms and once you get them back you have to send them away because you prove to not be protection enough? Thing is, you've never had a child and never will, so no you will never understand."I walked away angrily. I shouldn't have said that. I just don't understand why everyone keeps saying they understand my pain. They don't. They can't.
Elijah didn't love me. He loved my innocence. He loved my maternal instinct and love. Elijah loved purity. He loved everything that I lost. How was I supposed to look at him and know that? Answer, it was easier to not to.
As I turned into the hallway walking briskly, I stop. Klaus's door is open, his back to me. He was painting, the brush in his hand moving swiftly and quickly across the canvas. He stopped suddenly and I sensed he was going to turn around, quickly I shuffled away closing Hope's door behind me I pulled out the letter.
"Elijah, If you keep staring at me without saying anything, I may just have to dager you." I said without having to turn around. He was always lurking.
"Brother, I am worried about Hayley."
"And what do you want me to do about it?" I questioned, my paintbrush paused in mid stroke. Finally I turned to look at him with my eyebrow raised.
"Talk to her. Your cold shoulder hasn't helped anyone." He found the courage to look into my eyes.
Slamming my paintbrush down I stood up, in his face in seconds. "I lost my child, Elijah, my 'cold shoulder' is well deserved."
Elijah didn't even flinch. "What you fail to realize, brother, is that Hayley lost her child too."
"No. What you fail to realize brother is that everyone copes differently. I by painting and killing and her by" I waved my hand in a gesture. "doing whatever the hell she does out there." Elijah and I had come along way, we all had but with the recent loss of my child things were more strained. I vowed to be the best father I could, God forbid I become like my own. How was I supposed to do that when she couldn't even live here. The next time she saw me would she even know who I was?
"She also needs someone to talk to and so do you."
" Then why don't you talk to her brother, you're clearly the one she favors." I turned away feeling rather done with the conversation.
"Well as she pointed out, I've never lost a child, nor would I ever have one so…" He trailed off. I understood then why he came to me. He was hurt. I understand Hayley's anger. She too had lost her child and became a vampire. Elijah didn't look at her the same anymore. Even I could see it. I didn't answer.
Soon I heard him walk out the door, leaving me alone. His words, however, stuck with me. Soon I finished my painting, but was unsatisfied with it. This was a usual occurrence. Angrily I threw it across the room. Maybe it was what Elijah said, or the bottle of Whiskey I had drank. Elijah's words swirled inside of me until I couldn't take it anymore.
It was funny. One of the oldest vampires of all time, and the very first hybrid was afraid of talking to the mother of his child. Knocking on the door I stepped back, nearly chickening out. Slowly the door opened. Hayley's face transformed into shock. "Klaus...what are you doing here." She stepped back. She was wearing a flowy white shirt and jean shorts, it made her look simple, someone you would pass on the street, only turning back after it was too late. I noted that it was actually one of her maternity shirts.
"Well it's my room just as much as yours love." I said walking in to the room. I hadn't actually visited Hopes room in a while, I had decorated it with such care.
Hayley shook her head, a hand absentmindedly ran through her hair. "Well excuse me for believing this is a rare occurrence." I ran my hand along the edge of Hope's crib. "Look if Elijah told you to come talk to me, you didn't have to."
"Is it so hard to fathom that I might care about the mental condition of the mother of my child?" I retorted, turning to look at her, leaning against the crib.
"You haven't thus far."
I didn't answer for a few moments, searching her face. "Maybe I just wanted to know how you are."
"How do you think I am Klaus? I'm hurt." She said, her arms crossing. It was a defense mechanism she often used and I had somehow came accustomed to.
"Me too." I admitted softly. "I am too Hayley."
"And somehow you can't even look at me." I hated to admit it but she was right. From when I walked in I hadn't managed to look her in the eye, even as I searched her face I avoid them.
I found the courage to look up into her eyes. "I'm trying to cope, Hayley it's easier if I didn't have to..look at a walking memory all the time." I snapped back.
"Well I don't want to forget." He hand touched her chest. "I don't know why you would. She is still our child Klaus. No matter how much you try to avoid." I felt the pain in her voice as she spoke.
"Who said anything about forgetting?"
"Well sure as hell doesn't seem like you want to remember." She said. "Do you realize that she probably doesn't even remember us. And you know what? Maybe it's for the best." Her words were cold as they came out of her mouth.
I was shocked as she said them, keeping quiet for several moments. Leaving hope was never an option. That's why we gave her to Rebekah. "We'll get her back. Soon. She won't even remember her time without us." I promised in a convincing voice. It's been four months and we were still living in fear of our many enemies, maybe I was convincing myself.
"When? It's been four months Klaus. We've managed to take out only one of our enemies. They were the easy ones too." She paused for a moment, collecting herself. "I can't just sit around and wait anymore. I can't." The hunger in her eyes was one I understood. However, she was new. She didn't know how to control it.
"Elijah said…"
"Screw Elijah. I need blood." He lip curled into a scowl. "And I'm going to get it, with or without you."