THANK YOU to all our lovely readers and reviewers for sticking with us throughout this labor of love. And sorry for the wait-genius takes time ;) And now, the end of "Say Something!" xo Beth and Irene
The emptiness within the gates was in stark contrast to the festive bustle of city streets outside. What fiery determination had fueled his steps now burned low in the quiet of compound. In the silence his thoughts once again grew loud in his mind and his steps slow and reluctant.
When he had left Camille at the bar, he had decided what move to make: he would go out to the bayou and tell Hayley that he would be hers if she so wished - damn Klaus and his opinions to hell. With asimple yes from Hayley he would be free to express the feelings he'd kept tightly sealed away from his brother's prying and mocking eyes; or if her answer was no, well, then at least he'd have an answer and maybe at least he'd finally be able to get some peace.
As it was, the best laid plans of mice and men and Originals often go awry.
He'd arrived at the bayou, prepared for a yes and had left with an unquestionable no.
Watching her and Jackson had been a torturous lesson in masochism. Their shared laughter, their camaraderie, it rankled him, riled him. It made him more determined than ever to win this game, but it was the baby's kick and the intimate touch that Hayley had shared with Jackson that made Elijah realize that he had been foolish to think that this game could even be won in the first place.
Watching Hayley by the fire - that was all the answer he as he climbed the staircase to the upper levels, he was lost in thought as he struggled to imagine if there was anyway possible to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.
He wanted her to be happy, but what if he was not the one to make her happy.
Would he then let her go? Could he then let her go?
By the time Elijah made his way up to his bedroom, removed his tie and shrugged out of his jacket he was locked in battle with a new opponent, one more prohibitive and ruthless than his brother.
Himself.
He threw his jacket unceremoniously over the chair and was in such a fury to get to the bar cart that he nearly walked right into the reading table. The lamp wobbled precariously for a second until he set his firm hands on it, looking down at that moment at the chessboard beside it.
Elijah groaned. He didn't need his brother to mock him; the entire universe was already in on it.
Flipping over the board with a frustrated growl, he stepped over the pieces as they rolled this way and that under various bits of furniture as if hiding from an angry god. One, naturally enough, rolled right into his path and he paused only long enough to scoop it up.
The white alabaster was smooth between his fingers as he crossed the room to his iPod docket and proceeded to scroll through the playlist he'd received from the DJ the night of the Faction party until he came to track 13. The irony of that number wasn't lost on him as he reached to turn the volume up.
While the song they'd dance to washed over him, he poured himself a fresh drink and sat down at the antique desk by the window, leaning back in the chair to close his eyes, the stone piece still tight in his grip. His mind drifted to the dance he'd shared with Hayley and their discussions about her living situation.
He had wanted her to come back and live in the compound. She had wanted to stay in the bayou with the wolves - with Jackson.
Is that what made her happy? She certainly looked happy tonight, joking with Jackson and sharing stories over the campfire like a real family, a happy family.
His thoughts were interrupted.
"I would have thought a gramophone was more your style."
"Hayley, you shouldn't be here. Not at this hour."
"I wasn't aware I had a curfew."
When she didn't venture to say anything more, he rose protectively, almost instinctively, shoving the white stone piece into his pocket to survey her more carefully. She hung in the doorway still, arms crossed in a lazy, bored fashion. Her hair hung loose from earlier and it cascaded in soft waves around her shoulders. His fingers ached to feel the strands.
"Are you alright? Is it the baby? Has something happened?"
Hayley's eyes expressed a strained amusement at his worry.
"Nothing's happened to the baby. That's not that problem."
"Are you hurt?"
"Yeah, I am."
Elijah frowned before his eyes traveled down her glowing body, sweeping over soft curves and taking in every glimpse of skin for signs of harm or injury until they landed on her swollen belly. Both mother and child appeared fine. Satisfied she was safe, he reached for his drink and took his seat again, setting it in his lap.
Hayley had come all the way here for a reason, it would be nice if she would so kindly share said reason with him. He was not in the mood for guessing games, nor was he particularly thrilled that she had now appeared in the compound after so adamantly refusing to return at his earlier offer.
Above all he was confused: why was she here if she was so much happier out there?
"Is there something you need then?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Yeah, actually, there is. Want to tell me what you were doing out in the bayou earlier?"
Taking a sip from his drink, he sat up and placed it on the desk so that he could lean his elbows on it. "I made a promise to protect you. After what happened tonight, I had to make sure you and the baby were alright."
She came forward into the room, standing before his desk now.
"Ever heard of a phone? You could have just called me and saved yourself a trip."
"Astounding, I was about to recommend the same to you."
When she raised her eyebrows at his curtness he tried to smooth it over, reining in his emotions that were already threatening to boil over after the events of the night.
He leaned back in the chair again and rubbed his forehead. "I wanted…. to see for myself."
Hayley shook her head in denial and placed her hands on his desk, leaning towards him.
"Nice try, Elijah. If you really thought something was wrong you wouldn't have let me leave the fête in the first place."
"I would have preferred that you'd stayed here, at the compound, but you chose to leave before I could stop you. "
She straightened and crossed her arms, clearly bristling from his remark. Elijah tried to soften his words.
"All I mean is, I think you would be safer here."
"Here with you, you mean."
"Not there." With him, Elijah added silently before he rose from his chair and moved to refill his drink.
He remained standing by the decanter with his back to her, unwilling to acknowledge the feeling that had snaked its way through his bloodstream since he had seen her out there in the bayou by the fire with the other wolves.
With that wolf.
"So this isn't just about your promise, is it? What? Don't trust me with the wolves…in the wild…think I'll run away and never come back?"
He turned suddenly and faced her. "This has everything to do with my promise, Hayley. You and that child are an important part of this family. And on my life, I will not let anything happen to you… or your daughter."
"You don't have to worry, Elijah, those wolves in the bayou are my family. They take care of their own. They're not going to let anything happen to me. You didn't have to check up on me every night for the last month."
Elijah lowered his gaze to the floor. "Well, it appears I have not been as inconspicuous as I had hoped."
"Yeah, and you're not as subtle as you think either. I know you've been keeping tabs on Jackson."
"I don't trust him." Elijah crossed the room again and stood by the window, sipping his drink while he looked out over Bourbon Street.
Hayley frowned at his admission. "Don't trust him how? To protect me? Or to be around me, Elijah. Don't for one minute think I haven't noticed that you look like you want to tear his head off every time he's in the same room as me."
Elijah's fingers gripped the glass tighter. "And don't think for one minute I haven't noticed you two spending a concerning amount of time together lately."
Hayley's chin lifted as she advanced on him. "Maybe it's because at the end of the day he doesn't see me as some object that needs to be protected all the damn time."
Elijah's frustration was reaching a boiling point as he turned to face her. "And maybe you're safer here in the compound than you are out there in the bayou with him."
"I think after what happened tonight, we both know that's not true," she countered.
"Well Jackson didn't exactly stop that from happening either, did he?"
"What do you have against Jackson?"
His unquiet gaze gave her an answer. A dry, incredulous laugh tumbled from her mouth.
"And here I thought Jackson and Oliver were the only ones stuck in high school. Apparently the thousand-year-old vampire is the most immature of them all."
His gaze narrowed. "What do you mean by that?"
"You're jealous of Jackson, aren't you?"
He nearly flinched at how transparent he'd become. He turned away as he reached for his tumbler and swallowed its contents to hide his distaste for such a base emotion. Moving away from her, he motioned towards the doorway.
"Hayley, this is ridiculous and it's late. Perhaps you should stay here tonight and return to the bayou in the morning."
She refused to let him change the subject.
"Oh no, answer me, Elijah. It's a simple question. Are you going to tell me you gave Jackson all that grief because what? You didn't like his shirt?"
"I think very little of Jackson in general."
"That's not a real answer."
Elijah lowered his gaze and shook his head; her persistence was wearing him down. He could feel the tight control on his emotions starting to slip.
She crossed her arms and blew out a breath of frustration when he remained silent.
"I don't know what I was thinking coming here tonight," Hayley muttered as she started out of the room. She stopped at the doorway and turned to face him again.
"And you're wrong about Jackson. At least I can count on him to always be straightforward and honest with me which is more than I can say about you."
"What would you have me say?" Elijah snapped, his voice like silk encased in steel, "That it bothers me to see you two spend so much time together? That I'd much prefer that you be with me instead of him,that you'd feel the same?"
Hayley opened her mouth to respond but stopped when Elijah moved toward her, his steps slow and measured until he stopped just in front of her.
"Tell me Hayley, if I admit that I'm jealous, if I admit to all… of these things I feel," he said, waving his hand towards her, "would you stay here or would you return to the bayou?"
"I don't know, tell me how you feel and let's find out."
"This isn't a game, Hayley. What I feel for you is not a game."
"And putting conditions on your admission isn't playing games?"
She had him there, he admitted to himself.
"We've been dancing around this for months. I need you to tell me what you feel for me, Elijah. I need you to tell me something. Anything."
Elijah tilted his head and sighed with resignation. "What does it matter now? You made your decision, you refused my offer and you have moved out to the bayou instead of staying here, where you belong."
Hayley's nails dug into her palms at her side. "Why is it whenever you think I'm in trouble your automatic reaction is to tell me to sit and stay. God forbid, I actually make my own decisions or my own choices. Not like I've been making them my entire life or anything."
The tension between them began to crack.
"You do realize your choices affect me, Hayley."
"No, Elijah I don't. I chose to move to the bayou to be with my family. It had nothing to do with you."
Elijah stepped closer, his control slipping another notch. "As long as you are out there, I can't keep my eye on both you and my brother, Hayley. I can't keep my promise to protect you when I can't be in two places at once. You can't act and then leave me to deal with the consequences."
Hayley's eyes sparked with indignation. "I never asked you to keep an eye on me. How many times do I have to tell you, I can take care of myself!" she shouted.
"Obviously," he said, waving towards her stomach.
His head snapped back from the force of her slap.
Elijah's face crumbled when he saw the hurt his callousness had caused reflected in her eyes.
"Forgive me, I didn't mean-"
"Go to hell!"
Her words stung worse than her hand across his face. Before she could escape, Elijah grasped her arm and pulled Hayley against him, capturing her glare with his heated gaze.
Every word was sharp and piercing and painfully sincere.
"I know hell. I have been in hell more times than I care to admit. But it is not a place; it is a state of mind. It is having everything you want dangled just out of reach; it is seeing the people you care about make the same mistakes again and again; it is living a thousand years while everything and… everyone you love dies around you."
Hayley took a shaky breath and stared up at him as her vision blurred through rising tears. Releasing his grip on her arm, he dropped his hand and used it to wipe the tears from her cheeks while his eyes fell to her mouth, to the lips that had haunted his dreams for months. His thumb lightly brushed across them before he brought his mouth close enough to lightly caress hers with the barest of kisses.
Elijah's chest felt on fire when the emotions he'd kept under tight control finally burst free as he buried his hands in her soft hair and tilted her gaze to his.
"Hell…" he repeated, his voice cracking, "is the idea of you with Jackson. With my own brother. With anyone… but me."
Elijah's mouth captured the gasp that spilled from Hayley's lips as he finally gave into the impulses they'd denied themselves for so long.
The kiss was everything he'd imagined it would be. Inviting. Soft. Enticing. He drew a moan from her throat that made him want to deepen the kiss, drawing her closer to his body, his fingers lightly stroking the hair at the base of her neck. Hayley's hands lifted and covered his as she leaned into him.
Elijah slowly pulled back, his lips reluctantly releasing hers as they rested their foreheads together. He laced his fingers through hers, keeping her close as he lifted them to his lips and softly nibbled each knuckle before lowering their entwined hands back to his chest. His breath came out ragged as his blood flowed hot through his veins. Her touch had stripped him of his defenses and her kiss had tossed him helpless into a storm of emotions, leaving him shipwrecked before her feet like a suppliant before a goddess.
"I was jealous. I am jealous of Jackson, of the idea of you happy with anyone but me. Tonight, when I watched you with-"
"Shhh," she murmured, placing a finger across his lips.
Elijah hesitantly looked into her eyes when she leaned in to kiss him, her hands framing his cheeks. "It doesn't matter anymore. That can stay in the past, but you can't."
His arms wrapped around her and pulled her close as he surrendered to the exquisiteness of her mouth once again. Sliding his hand from her face, through her hair and across her shoulders, Elijah breathed in deeply, breathing her in, before moving his hands around hers, clasping them close.
They were moving, swaying now, the pulse of the music echoing the flutter of her heart. The dance was unintentional; they simply fell into the slow steps.
"I know this song," she whispered, looking up through dark lashes.
"Forgive me, it's been on loop-"
"No," she stopped him, eyes wide, "No, I know it from the Faction party. It's our song."
Our song.
She rested her head across his chest, setting one hand high upon his shoulder in a dancer's embrace.
They stayed like that forever, or so it seemed. The song had rolled over twice, three times before Elijah spoke, softly as if Hayley were already asleep.
"Do you plan to spend the night?"
The song kept playing but Hayley stopped, pulling away to look at him with a lifted brow.
"General inquiry or personal invitation?"
He gave her one of his rare smiles as he gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.
"Although that invitation exists—"
"Let's save it for another night," she answered, kissing him again before taking another step back. He held onto her hand as she moved away, reluctant to let her go.
"I'll stay at the compound tonight but tomorrow morning I'm returning to the bayou," she said, pressing forward when it appeared he might disagree with her decision, "I'm not just their family, Elijah, I'm their leader and they need me, especially now, out there fighting for them."
"The Queen has spoken," he relinquished, "and so it shall be. Rest well, Hayley. Perhaps I'll catch you in the morning."
"Perhaps," she sang, looking down at the hold he still held on her hand.
Realizing he was keeping her, Elijah finally let go and she rewarded him with another soft smile.
"Goodnight, Elijah."
She turned and he watched as she walked out the same way she had entered: regal, enthralling and simply enchanting. He stood in the open doorway, transfixed, watching her make her way down the hall toward the guest bedroom and wondering if this was the part when he woke up from the dream.
He waited on the threshold several minutes after he had heard her door close for the night. He could still hear her moving around the room, turning off the light, crawling into bed.
The silence returned to the Compound, but the emptiness did not. Elijah closed his eyes momentarily, trying to preserve the memory of their dance, the feel of her against him and the words of the song, words that said everything he wanted to.
He didn't have to recall because the song was still on.
Returning into his room, he finally shut down his iPod. Pulling it from its docket, he wrapped it up, setting it down next to his empty glass and his discarded jacket to remember to take with him tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow, Hayley would be leaving again. Tomorrow his brother would ask him what she was doing here, mock his motives, deduce his feelings, and plan his counterattack.
And Elijah would just walk away, because she had been right; life was not a game. Games were about power and manipulation and winning, doing whatever it takes to get what you want. But Hayley had showed him that life was about failures and mistakes and being unsure and despite all that going after the things you want.
Making his way to the wardrobe, he saw the black king peeking from beneath it. It could stay there tonight, at least until tomorrow. He suddenly remembered the other piece he was still hoarding in his pocket; he set the queen down alone upon the reading table, setting it up like a votive statue next to the lamp.
Elijah found himself grinning, recalling something he had read in a gaming handbook once.
In chess there is a situation called a zugzwang, a catch-22 upon the board. It's your turn, and the other player has forced you to make a move. The problem is, there is no option left open that won't hurt you.
That is, of course, unless you throw the board to the ground, go outside, and live your life.
As Elijah prepared for bed, removing his watch and undoing his shirt one button at a time, he couldn't help but admire the chess pieces scattered all over the floor.
