Author's Note: I haven't written for TVD/TO fandom in awhile but I have always been circling back around to it. I asked for prompts on thebennettdiaries and an anonymous person sent one that inspired this. I will warn you that I have no idea if this will be a one shot or more. Sometimes I just write drabbles that I can't continue. I hope you enjoy this bit of angst. If you do, please let me know.

broken lullabies

The first time he walks is a revelation.

For many reasons.

It is a quiet night. Klaus is seated across from his brother (who has his nose predictably stuck in some book). On the floor, Eli is sprawled across a blanket, happily grabbing at brightly colored toys so he can toss them as far as his little arm can manage. Each time once bounces off a piece of furniture Elijah purses his lips but Klaus knows that it is all for show. He won't deny his nephew a thing - even if it means destruction of a priceless antique.

Before either of them even realize it, Eli has pulled himself to a standing position, his chubby hands gripping the cushions of the sofa. He demands attention in his usual manner, bellowing a few words and sounds until both sets of eyes are on him.

Then he takes his first step. It is a strange sight, his limbs jerk as if they have laid dormant for too long. He wobbles and Klaus immediately sits up straight, ready to lurch forward if he needs to save his son the shame of hitting the floor. But Eli is determined. Before long, he has made it from one side of the sitting area to the other. He looks up at his father, a boyish grin on his face.

Klaus is in awe.

Elijah closes his book. "You're in trouble now," he comments wryly, although anyone can see that he is beaming with his pride at his little namesake.

Klaus has all of a minute to be overjoyed before his brother's words sink in. He is in trouble - because walking means walking away.

X

He won't lie. He finds that he preferred Eli when he had been unable to rush from one room to the other. Klaus misses the way his son's tiny body fit against his chest. He misses how Eli used to squirm and test his muscles, a sign of what was to come. He finds himself often remembering the first time Eli was placed in his arms, warm and squalling so loudly that it pierced through him (right to his heart, breaking through that shield he prided himself on). He wants those days back more than anything.

Because he is terrified of what comes next.

To Eli, it appears that very few things have changed. He still demands his father pick him up. He still eats more than seems possible. He still throws his toys, much to Elijah's chagrin. Yes, he is more mobile and he delights in darting around the compound with little care to the moments he stumbles and spills forth on the ground. He simply picks himself up and continues, as if nothing has changed.

Elijah is the first to sense the shift in Klaus (of course). He chides him for being overprotective, for worrying too much. Eli is a Mikaelson after all. He is built to survive, to push forward, to be something that no one has ever seen before.

Elijah doesn't get it. How can he? He is not a parent, despite taking on a nurturing role with his siblings. He can't truly wrap his head around having a child.

Especially one of this origin.

X

"Impossible!" They are the first words out of Klaus' mouth, a knee jerk reaction to the news that she has just delivered to him.

He can practically see the magic curl angrily in her, pushing against her edges and demanding retribution for his outburst. He steels himself for the onslaught but it never comes. Instead she holds her ground, the only outward sign of her anger is the way her fingers curl into the palms of her hands momentarily.

"You can believe or not," she tells him, her tone a strange mix of things that he has not heard before. "But I can guarantee that in a few months, it will be a reality. Then what?"

Then what?

Klaus thinks over the question, realizing as he does so that he is already moving towards acceptance of what she has just told him. How quickly his body goes from rejecting the idea to wanting to embrace it. It is not like him and he wants to shake off the feeling. He thinks that when this conversation is over he will wander into the Quarter to slaughter some innocent doe eyed girl. He needs the blood on his skin to soothe him, to remind him of just who he is.

But first, she needs an answer.

"I guess we will have no choice but to cross that bridge when we get there."

X

Surprisingly it is harder to drag her across that bridge.

It does not take him long to realize that she hates being pregnant. She is sick more often than not, zapped of her energy by some tiny alien being she has been forced to share space with. She sleeps, tossing and turning, her mind plagued with nightmares. She once confesses to him that she has the same dream - their child eating its way out.

Klaus tells himself that things will change once the baby is truly reality. She can hold it against her, feel its warmth, hear its heartbeat (a gift he has already been given). But sadly, these predictions do not come to pass. The birth takes longer than it should and she feels like she is being ripped apart (her dreams coming to pass). When the baby (a boy) finally emerges, covered in blood and screaming his arrival, she holds him for a brief moment. Then she gives him to his father. When Klaus names him Eli, after the brother that has always stood by him, she gives no argument.

Considering her tumultuous relationship with Elijah, she should have.

Eli is not an easy baby. His cries are piercing and he has trouble adjusting to the sensations of the world around him. Klaus suspects it is because there are warring factions inside of him: how many children are part wolf, part vampire and part witch? The poor soul is too young to understand any of it.

She is far from patient.

In the end, Klaus takes the leading role in Eli's care. It is a strange reversal of what he thought would happen. He had pictured her with their son tucked against her body, a soothing hand running down Eli's back. Instead her mood seeps into Eli and he strains against her until Klaus has no choice but to rescue him.

He knows it now. She will leave.

X

She has the good sense to wait until Eli is asleep before she gathers her things.

From his room, Klaus hears her moving around. He can practically see how she hastily shoves clothing into a bag. He stares at the ceiling, wondering what he should do. He really only has two choices: he can let her go or he can make her stay. He can imprison her in motherhood. They were once on opposite sides of the fight, they both understand how hard one another can dig in. He will be in for a hell of battle but it will be worth it.

Won't it?

As he listens, he realizes that this is beyond a battle of wills. This is for Eli. He wants his son to have his mother. He deserves as much. But Klaus knows from his own experience, a mother is only as good as her love for her son. If she doesn't want to be here, then Eli deserves something else, something better.

Still, he can't let her leave without a parting shot.

She has nearly tiptoed her way out when they cross paths. He leans against the wall, his arms crossed. She looks at him wide eyed, and once again her magic flares to life (but this time, it is far more chaotic, more panicked). Klaus gets it - she is worried that he will make her stay. The thought pokes at his anger, threatening to bring forth his own (far more destructive) self defense mechanism.

"You are really going to leave your son with someone who you once classified as the ultimate evil? Aren't you worried about the influence I will have on him?" He asks, his voice bitting and cruel.

She does not flinch. "You're good with him."

Those four words effectively disarm him.

She escapes into the dark.

X

Eli learns more words, jumbling them together incorrectly but he is trying. Now that he is on his feet and doing something resembling talking, Klaus finds himself at a loss as to what to do if Eli ever says mother. He reasons that Eli had been young when she left, his memories of her are fleeting, perhaps even non-existent. But one day, he will ask.

Thankfully for now, his favorite word seems to be cookie.

He finishes one while Klaus reads him a bedtime story. It is funny how far Klaus gets into this, throwing his arms back and changing his voice with each new character they encounter. Elijah walks by and admonishes him.

"You're meant to be settling him, Niklaus."

Klaus ignores his brother.

Eli falls asleep despite Elijah's predictions. Klaus spends a moment watching Eli's chest rise and fall, a sense of peace seeping into his bones. He then turns to find some respite of his own. His sleep is not as fluid as his son's. But he still manages to make it to the witching hour before he is thrown awake by a sensation.

He lays in bed for a moment or two, completely disoriented as to why he would be so unceremoniously thrown from his slumber. Then it hits him, a new kind of fear washing over him completely.

Eli.

He throws back the covers and moves quickly to Eli's room. He comes to a sudden stop in the doorway. In the moonlight, there is a silhouette leaning over the crib. It is a familiar one to him. Eli's mother. He can hear her voice, soft and filled with pain. "I'm so sorry, baby boy…"

He finds that despite the sincerity of the words, he is angry. So when he speaks her name, his tone echoes the sentiment.

"Bonnie."