Chapter 18: World's not nice, but I have you by my side…
"I am the mother of your son," Isobel screams and Alaric laughs in her face.
"Mother? Don't kid yourself, Isobel. You are no mother. Do you know what my daughter had to do to put her brother through school? How she lived so she could give him the best? What she did to ensure his future?" Alaric asks as his men string up Isobel's husband.
"She lived like she wasn't alive. She took her clothes off to put him through school. Tell me, Isobel, was this the kind of life I had wanted for my daughter?"
"Everything was always about that brat. The moment she came out of me, it was all about Elena. What about me, Rhen? I was only a convenient womb on hire, wasn't I?" Isobel snarks.
"Do you hear yourself? You were jealous,are jealous of a child. Was this why you lied to me about my daughter's death? Brought her up to believe that she was nothing, that her father didn't want her, and chucked her out when you set your sight on someone new? Did you think I would never find out?" He says softly as he tugs black, supple leather gloves over his fingers. "I am not a praying man, Isobel, but I changed myself. Left everything behind and opened a patisserie. Went to church, donated to NGOs, helped out people, so that my daughter… my daughter wouldn't have to bear the sins of her father in the afterlife." His bitter laugh rings in the empty space. "You know, God is fucking unfair, Isobel. Here I was trying to make amends while my daughter was eating from bins and going hungry most of days to feed her brother when she couldn't find much."
"So what?" Isobel screams. "I gave you a son, an heir and you still didn't care."
"Did I ever ask for a son? You managed to get yourself pregnant while I was out of my fucking mind and foisted a boy into my arms expecting me to forget my daughter. An heir? Are we in the Middle Ages, Isobel that my daughter can't be my successor? You wanted a son because it suited you. And what did you do with the boy? Turned him out on the streets because you wanted to be called a lady."
Kol steps forward and Alaric hands him his cane, bunching his fists and punching Morsedale awake.
"Wake up, lordling!" He snarls. "She threw out my kids to marry you."
And then it's the sound of Rhen's fist against flesh, Isobel's pleadings and her husband's whimpers.
When he's done, Isobel's husband is a bloody mess and barely breathing.
"Now, you'll be a good girl and sign where Kol tells you to, Isobel, and I will think of leaving a million for you to get by," Alaric commands, peeling the bloody gloves off.
He is going to take everything from her and leave her nothing. Not even a penny. She will know how his kids lived on the streets and what it's like to go hungry.
Kol passes him his cane and he walks away from the carnage.
Now, he only needs to make Salvatore cry tears of blood.
~UV~
Elena has never seen people being so deferential towards her ever in her life. The doctors who come to the private suite always talk politely and touch gently. The nurses keep hovering and descend upon her the moment she seems to take breath incorrectly.
There are fresh flowers, and a bowl overflowing with fruits on the table in one corner surrounded with comfortable couches and a television mounted on the wall in front of her.
She wonders how much all of it costs, but whenever she wakes up, she is too tired and wide eyed to ask it.
There is also the matter that she can barely string two sentences without hacking like an old woman.
She somehow survived… Elijah.
She didn't think she would, but she did and then her mind naturally goes on to the fact that has her brother been informed of her condition, and if yes, then is he here? She wonders where her phone is and how she's going to pay for all this, but then she remembers that she is rich.
She's lost in her head when the door opens slowly and Mr. Saltzman walks inside.
Has he been taking care of her?
She had listed him as his emergency contact after she had worked up enough courage to ask permission for the same from him. Has he been coming to the hospital daily?
"Elena, you're awake," He says with a smile and she is stumped. Mr. Saltzman has never smiled like that before. With his entire face.
"I am sorry. I just stepped out for something."
"You… need to be at the bakery," She mumbles.
He doesn't say anything, but comes to her bedside and tugs the sheets so that they lay smoothly over the surface. "Do you want anything? Are you in pain? Do you need me to call the doctor?"
She shakes her head and he settles in the chair nearby, not the one by her bedside, resting his cane against the edge of it.
He looks sad and contemplative and Elena wants to ask if someone has come to… visit her. Damon would have heard about her accident, wouldn't he?
Has… he… ?
"Mr. Saltzman," She whispers and sees him wince.
"Elena, I need to tell you something," He says before she can voice her request. He looks troubled and if her throat wasn't on fire from mumbling four lines in total, she would be asking him about his troubles by now.
Or… has he come to tell her that he won't be coming to see her anymore? That he knows what kind of person she is and he doesn't want to associate with scum like her?
Is he-
Before he can say anything, there is a commotion at the door and Esther Mikaelson bursts in the room, fuming with anger, her eyes zeroed on her.
Elena feels the fear coat her insides again at the sight of Elijah's mother, shivering inside her casts and dressing at the prospect of coming face to face with him again.
"You!" Esther hisses as she comes closer and Elena closes her eyes in the hope that she can will her away.
If she's lucky, she might just be dreaming again.
But before Esther can come closer, she hears the chair scrape on the floor, and that familiar tap of Mr. Saltzman's cane.
Has he decided to walk out?
Is this the last straw?
She wants to cry out and beg him not to go and leave her alone with Esther.
"One more step in my daughter's direction, one more word out of your mouth, and I will forget I am standing in an hospital, Esther," He drawls in a menacing whisper and Elena forgets to breathe properly.
He called her…
"R-Rhen," She hears Esther stutter. "Your daughter?"
Elena opens her eyes and looks at the scene in front of her.
"Yes, my daughter, Esther. My Elena."
Elijah's mum goes on her knees and it's a shock to see Esther Mikaelson kneeling in front of someone.
"He didn't know she was yours, Rhen. I swear. Please!" Her folded hands and bowed head is a bizarre sight.
Elena doesn't know… if this is reality or if she's in some elaborate dream, or maybe…she's really dead and in hell and the devil's making her see one thing that got her through everything.
The desperate wish to have Mr. Saltzman as her father.
"Am I supposed to take that into account? That he didn't know when he jumped out of the fucking car at the last moment before it crashed into the wall? I…I would have lost her again without knowing that she was mine. Am I supposed to forgive that?"
It's a strange world. Elena thinks she's definitely dead.
"Rhen, please! My son, Rhen. Please return my son," She begs.
"No," He says simply before two suited men burst into the room.
"Fire the guards who let her enter," Mr. Saltzman says and then he turns his gaze on her.
If this is hell… then the devil is kind.
"Elena?"
"Am I dead? Is this hell? " She asks. Mr. Saltzman approaches her bed slowly and she notices that his hand that grips the cane is shaking.
He sits on the chair by her bedside.
His eyes are shining with… unshed tears?
"I named you after my mother," He starts slowly. "You had a penchant for French songs and being carried around. You weren't a fussy child, but you only slept when you were in my arms… "
Her vision is a blur and she realizes that she's crying.
"I am sorry," He says. "I am so sorry, Elena."
"Where were you?" It's ripped from her throat, a question so full of pain that he closes his eyes and yet, his tears don't stop.
"She… she said you didn't care for me. That it didn't matter whether I lived or died," Elena says, hiccups a constant interruption.
He moves the glass and maneuvers the straw near her mouth for her to take a sip, and she does.
"She… said… "
"She is a liar, baby bean." The nickname slips and he doesn't even notice, but she does.
And that makes her cry harder.
She doesn't want to be dead for this.
"I am not dead, am I?"
He holds her hand gently and smiles. "You think Esther Mikaelson would have gone on her knees if this were hell?"
"You… are my Dad, one hundred percent?" She is a child again, a child of five who wanted nothing else but a father.
"One hundred percent," He repeats.
"Okay," She says and closes her eyes. There is a small smile on her lips that is stretching her bruised cheeks, but that's okay.
She has a father now.
Someone up above was probably looking out for her.
She has a Dad now, she thinks before she falls asleep…
~UV~
Fanfiction is being bitchy again.
And I am drunk on this French song, "Je sais pas danser" by Pomme. And I am thinking about Damon romancing Elena over the bones of people he has killed. He's drenched in blood and she's clad in white. He turns her in a circle and she comes to face a mirror and a woman is sitting sadly inside the glass, looking at her with sorrow in her eyes.
"I am you. I am the love he caged inside the glass because he doesn't want it…"
Okay, I think I need to take a nap. My brain is being weird again.
Love you people, loads and loads…