Sorry, lost track of time with the holidays didn't get any writing done until now. Here's part two alot later than expected. (it's unedited btw, felt like I needed to get this out as soon as possible after making you wait so long)
Chapter 51
Rebekah walked briskly to Davina's bedroom hoping to get far enough away from Freya's study to not hear what was about to happen to her brother and, soon enough, her lover. As she passed Hope's bedroom, she couldn't help but overhear Hayley speaking to Hope.
"You love magic, sweetheart. I know. But...sometimes, it isn't always good to use your magic against just anyone because you don't think the right people care enough about them," Hayley cautioned.
Rebekah stopped at the door and listened intently, ready to jump in and stop it if she thought Hayley was about to punish her dear niece. Certainly, Hope made a mistake in using her magic against Finn but if anyone was to blame, it was Kol, not Hope.
"I know," Hope muttered. "But Uncle Kol said it was okay. He always says Finn isn't one of us - that he's the enemy."
"He's not our enemy, Hope."
Even as she said the words, Hayley was hesitant to believe them. She needed Hope to be less unwieldy with her magic but that didn't mean she wanted her daughter to trust the person who once tried to kill her.
"You should be wary of him...and keep your guard up, but if he doesn't intend to harm you, you're not allowed to use your magic against him, do you understand?"
Hope was silent for a moment, thinking about how her brother and her Uncle Kol have regarded Finn for the past few weeks, treating him like an 'other', as if he wasn't a person let alone a Mikaelson. How could her mother expected her to treat him any better?
A third voice suddenly spoke up in the room and Rebekah realized that Davina was in there with them.
"Finn is evil," Davina spat but then in the same breath, she said, "But...he wasn't doing anything at that time to deserve what Marcel and Kol did to him. It's like...they just went blind to reason and acted solely on hate and anger. I've...never seen Marcel act like that."
A rhythmic tapping from outside drew all of their attention to the door. Before either of them could answer, Rebekah opened the door with a sly grin on her face.
"That's because they did go blind to reason, love," said Rebekah. "But that doesn't mean you have to."
Rebekah walked further into the room towards Hayley sitting on the bed with Hope by her side, Davina leaning against the wall across from them with her arms crossed protectively over her chest.
"Y'see, when Marcel was younger, he and Kol had a relationship that was...well, to be quiet frank, incredible. It was like they...shared one mind. Whatever Marcel thought of, Kol felt. Whatever Kol wanted, Marcel had already asked for. They were best friends but with the ravaging of time and love, their bond slowly faded and a century later, they became enemies. But now, it seems, after all this time, their friendship is starting to blossom once more. As unfortunate as that may be."
Davina and Hope shared a contemplative look.
"Is this what Marcel was like then," Davina asked, brows furrowed contemplatively, staring absentmindedly at the bed. "All 'act first, questions later'?"
"For the most part. Don't get me wrong, I love them both, but back then, I could hardly stand them as a pair."
Flashback
Rebekah walked confidently through the halls of the Compound, her head tilted high as she thought about Marcel's flustered reaction to her question. It was the night of the Festival of Lights and Marcel had yet to ask her to accompany him to the festival so she was going to take the proper step and ask him first.
There was no quiver in her gait, no hint of fear in her eyes. She and Marcel had been seeing each other in secret for two months months, the longest engagement she'd ever had, and she was sure he was going to say yes because for the first time in the months that they'd been together, Klaus and Elijah were out of town leaving just her and Marcel. And Kol.
She didn't fear Kol finding out about their relationship, in fact, he already knew. Marcel confided in Kol on just about everything so her brother knew before even she did about Marcel's feelings towards her. But she knew Kol would never tell Klaus or Elijah about her and Marcel. No matter how much Kol enjoyed teasing his little sister, he would never do anything to betray his best friend.
Marcel had been a bit standoffish in the days leading up to the Festival and Rebekah couldn't help but wonder if it was because he was planning to propose to her. Yet, another part of her feared maybe it was because he was going to break up with her, thinking maybe their relationship was too much for him-him still being human and time seeming so finite to them. But if he were to marry her, there would be no reason for him to continue on as a human. She would turn him herself and they would carry on for all of eternity as husband and wife.
Rebekah knocked jovially on Marcel's bedroom door but opened it before he could invite her in.
Marcel spun around from his mirror, his untied tie still held loosely in his hand as he tried to remember how his father usually tied it.
"Rebekah," he exclaimed, surprised by her brazenness. "You can't just barge in here like that...what if I was...indecent."
With a smile, Rebekah continued over to Marcel's bed. She laid on top of it, stretching out as if to tempt him with her corseted waist and exposed ankles.
"Nothing I haven't seen before, I'm sure."
Marcel blushed, suddenly remembering how much more experienced at love Rebekah was than he.
"What if Kol was in here with me," he mumbled turning back to the mirror and attempting to fix his tie.
Realizing her attempt at seduction had failed, Rebekah stood up and sauntered over to Marcel, taking his tie in her hands. "If you were in the room with Kol and you were indecent, I would have more questions for the two of you than he would have of me."
"Haha," Marcel fake-laughed as Rebekah proceeded to tie his tie with a grin. "You know what I mean."
"I assumed Kol already knew about us. You seem to tell him everything."
"He knows. But I don't want him to think I'm distracted. We have a wager for tonight and being with you will certainly make me lose."
"A wager?"
Marcel looked past Rebekah at himself standing in the mirror. He looked dashing in his black shawl-collared tux, a bit overdressed for the occasion but he was a Mikaelson and they didn't go anywhere unless they could turn heads while they were there.
"Yes, Kol wagered that he could bed some trollop before I." Marcel chuckled at Kol's perceived foolishness as he straightened the collar of his shirt over his now completed tie. "Can you believe him? I mean, look at me. I'm devastatingly handsome, don't you agree?"
As Marcel looked down at Rebekah, she pushed against Marcel's chest, knocking him back onto the bed with her vampire strength. For the first time, he noticed the fire in her eyes.
"You dare talk about bedding another woman while I stand in your presence?"
Marcel stood up, his eyebrows knotted in confusion. "You needn't fret about my goings on with some easy tramp. You mean more to me than any other woman."
"You swore to love me and only me!"
"And I do love you! But this isn't about love. It's simply about a wager between two gentlemen. Wagers between gentlemen transcend morality."
"And who told you that? Kol?"
Marcel's silence was all she needed to hear.
"Your 'friend' knows nothing about morality or even basic human decency for that matter. He is a selfish prig who's longest intimate connection has been with the dagger Klaus keeps in his chest, a dagger he should've never taken out!"
Marcel shook his head with sullen eyes. As he reached out to touch her cheek, Rebekah pulled away.
"Why are you jealous, Rebekah? They're just girls. Poppa does it all the time. He and Kol...they find intimacy with these women only in their bedchambers. What I feel for you...is so much grander than that. Besides...when we finally are intimate, I want to...know as much as you."
The shock and embarrassment on Rebekah's face made it look even paler than it already was. "Who told you what I know?"
"No one had to tell me anything. You are centuries old and you're beautiful. And you are a Mikaelson. I may be young, Bex, but I'm no fool."
Rebekah blushed at Marcel's correct assumption. She wasn't ashamed of her past, but she also didn't want him to try to catch up to her. Hundreds of brokenhearted lads had fallen at her feet over the course of eight centuries, only a fraction of them was lucky enough to make their way to her bed. She didn't want to imagine the body count someone as handsome and as charming as Marcel would rack up in that same time. She may have been immortal but that didn't mean she was willing to wait any longer for love. Not when the man she was sure was her one true love was standing right in front of her.
"You are if you believe I would ever forgive you if you go out with my dimwitted brother tonight."
"Bex, you're over-"
"Don't you dare say I'm overreacting! Listen to yourself! If Elijah were courting a woman, do you really think you'd catch him making such deplorable wagers? There's a reason we call him the Honorable Mikaelson and why we call Kol the Wildest Mikaelson. If he weren't our brother, Klaus and Elijah wouldn't even let you near him."
The shame he once wore were washed away from Marcel's face replaced quickly with stony irritation.
When he'd hit puberty he distanced himself from Rebekah, wanting to be nothing short of a man when he finally approached her and asked her for her hand in marriage. The older he got, the more self-assured he became, until finally - at 19 - with the teachings of his uncle, the emotional support of his father, and the confidence of his best friend, he felt he was finally ready to be the man she needed. But as he listened to her speak then, he realized that no matter how 'mature' he thought he was, she still treated him like a child in need of protecting.
"Despite what you may believe," Marcel growled. "I did not agree to this wager because I'm chasing after Kol's affection and approval. Since he's been undaggered, the two of you have only shared snide comments at the dinner table but he is my best friend. We do everything together. He doesn't have to talk me into anything. When I say no, he doesn't pressure me, and when he says it'll be fun, I believe him. I love you Rebekah and one day I will marry you...but right now, the thought of forever - and I mean forever in the most literal sense - having been with only one girl...feels like a shackle on my faltering youth."
The look of utter broken-hearted horror on Rebekah's face sudden shook Marcel back to the reality that he wasn't confiding in Kol - his nonjudgemental, wicked best friend - but in the girl he loved.
Before he could open his mouth to apologize, Rebekah slapped Marcel across the face and stormed out of the room, leaving his bruised cheek for another woman to nurse along with his shattered ego.
End Flashback
"So that's what it's like when Marcel and Kol get along," Davina mumbled. "Them doing stupid...vile shit and thinking they're in the right."
"Pretty much." Rebekah shook her head feeling a bit empathetic as Davina came to the same conclusion she had to come to years ago.
"So...how can I trust them to protect me if I can't even trust them to think more than two steps ahead of their own emotions?"
Rebekah moved slowly over to Davina, gently draping her hands over her shoulders as she stared into her eyes. "If there's one thing you can trust, love, it's that those two love you with more ferocity than you can probably stand to handle. They will never hurt you and they will do anything to protect you, do you understand me?"
Davina wasn't sure if she could take Rebekah's word. She didn't think the woman was intentionally lying to her but since she loved both Marcel and Kol, she was worried that Rebekah's feelings towards them would make her bias.
But as she looked over to Hayley who seemed to have the same sure look in her eyes - a woman who had no reason to trust either Marcel or Kol - she knew Rebekah was right.
"Okay," she stated. "I still trust them to protect me. But...I can't say I trust their judgment anymore."
Rebekah smiled knowingly. "Sweetheart, you should've stopped trusting a boy's judgment a long time ago."
"Especially in this family," said Hope pouting angrily.
Hayley wrapped her arm around Hope's shoulder, gently pulling her into a hug. "Hey, hey now," she said jokingly. "Not all of the Mikaelson men are foul. Elijah...is redeemable."
"He's the only one. Dad is the worst of 'em."
As Hope's shoulders folded inward and she tucked her head down, Rebekah saw a look on Hope's face that through her back into a lifetime of memories of her reaching out for a leaf on the tree of young love only to have Klaus callously snatch it away from her.
"Y'know what," Rebekah stated cheerfully. "We could go on talking about the spiteful atrocities of the Mikaelson men for decades but why waste a perfectly good night. How about the four of us have ourselves a Girls Night."
Hope immediately perked up. "Can I invite a friend?"
"Sweetheart, as enchanting as Sebastian is, he still considers himself a boy and there are no boys invited to Girls Night."
"He's not the friend I wanted to invite."
Rebekah's eyes fell immediately to Hayley. They both knew immediately the girl Hope wanted to invite. If it were solely up to Rebekah, she wouldn't have a problem with Hope inviting Izzy on Girl's Night. She felt it was her duty as the girl's favorite Aunt to help her safely sneak around with the significant other her father disapproved of but she wasn't sure if Hayley was of the same mindset.
As Hayley stared into Hope's big optimistic eyes, she couldn't find the strength to say no.
"Okay, you can invite Izzy." she muttered. Hope flew to her feet nearly knocking Hayley off the bed as she tackled her with a hug.
Hope's smile slowly faded as Hayley sat her back up, her eyes staring seriously down at Hope.
"I don't mind you being friends with her," Hayley continued. "And I don't know enough about this girl to make any assumptions about her character and I refuse to jump to conclusions like your father. But I trust you, Hope. You are a talented, wonderful, clever girl and I know that you know that. You are worth so much more than even you think you are. Don't let anyone make you believe anything less. If you don't think someone's treating you with all that you're worth, you don't have to stay friends with them. Understand?"
Hope looked to her Aunt Rebekah, not quite sure why her mom felt it necessary to remind her of something she already knew. The daughter of a Werewolf Queen and an Original - she was amazing, everyone knew it. Who in their right mind would ever say anything different? But as she noticed the seriousness in Rebekah's eyes, the same seriousness held in her mom's and even Davina's eyes, she knew there had to be something she was missing.
But she didn't want them to know it.
"Okay, mom," Hope agreed, shining a bright smile up at Hayley. "I promise, I won't let anyone try to tell me I'm anything less than awesome."
-M-
Marcel knew what the end of Kol's spanking would mean for him but he still jumped when he heard Klaus's voice call, "Marcellus. Come here, please."
Marcel didn't move. He couldn't move. He couldn't bring himself to turn from the corner knowing what was waiting for him.
"Marcel," Klaus growled hasher but still Marcel didn't move. Klaus could see Elijah shaking his head disapprovingly from the corner of his eye. With an indignant huff, Klaus stalked over to Marcel, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around.
The tears threatening to breech Marcel's eyes were a shock to them all.
"P-please, Klaus," Marcel said staring into Klaus's eyes. "Don't do this. I...I can't..."
Klaus stood slack-jawed. For the first time in his life, he saw Marcel terrified of him, torn between memories of his father taking special care when punishing him as a boy and Kol going completely mad on him in the basement and wondering which of the two perceptions of Originals he was about to face.
"Marcel," Klaus murmured, unsure of what to say to ease Marcel's mind.
Suddenly ashamed of appearing vulnerable in front of everyone, Marcel cleared his throat before saying, "I just...don't think I deserve it. Kol is right. Finn has done worse to us and...maybe he didn't intend to hurt Davina then but he did."
Deciding to allow his son to keep his pride and pretend that he hadn't seen Marcel's true fear, Klaus said, "You went too far. The line must be drawn somewhere or else we would truly be the monsters our enemies try to paint us as."
"Finn isn't family."
"He is a Mikaelson," Klaus growled. "Like the rest of us, he's made mistakes in his life and just like every last one of us has been forgiven, so must he."
"He hexed his own brother to death! He tried to kill Hope! And we're just supposed to forgive him because suddenly he's a child? If he weren't a Mikaelson would you be so quick to forgive?"
"No." The bluntness of Klaus's answer staggered Marcel. "But that's the point. He is a Mikaelson. We always forgive our own when penance has been paid. No matter what."
"Need I remind you, Marcellus," Marcel cut his eyes knowingly at Elijah as soon as he started talking. "That you tried to kill both me and Kol during your time as an Upgraded Original. I myself killed you on that bridge twelve years ago. We have, all of us, made horrendous mistakes against this family but the true mark of family is forgiveness."
"I don't want him in this family," Marcel growled.
With his face still in the corner, Kol piped, "I second that."
Before Elijah could reprimand either of them, Finn suddenly stood from the safety of his sister's arms to face Marcel. As Marcel continued to glare at him, he almost lost the nerve to say what he wanted to, fearing that Marcel and Kol wouldn't believe anything he said and if there was one thing he learned in his short time being back with his family, there was no one's opinion Klaus revered more than Marcel. If Marcel didn't want him around, it would only be a matter of time before the rest of the Mikaelsons decided to evict him.
"I...I'm sorry for every wicked thing I've done to this family," Finn muttered cautiously. "I thought...I thought I was doing what's best for my family. I thought I was saving you all. I see now that I was wrong. I don't want to be that person anymore...a person hated by the only people who know what it's like to suffer in this body. This isn't a trick to garner your sympathy so I can turn on you later. I truly want to be a better brother to you all. Please...believe me."
Marcel hated how easily suspectable he was let his guard down to a simpering child. He wanted so much to hate Finn but as pathetic as he looked then, his natural instinct was to forgive him.
But he was still afraid of facing Klaus in his vulnerable state. Looking towards his father, he hoped Klaus would somehow just know what to do, like he always did, and make the right decision.
The fear in Marcel's eyes reverberated through Klaus's very being.
"Follow me, Marcellus," he said calmly walking toward the door.
Marcel stared at Klaus as he walked away, shocked by the man's sudden nonchalance.
Hearing Klaus open the door behind him, Kol realized that Klaus was leaving. Quickly turning to him, the young Original barked, "Wait a second, where are you taking him?"
Glaring back at Kol, Klaus growled, "Not that I see it as any of your concern but we're going to my studio to get some privacy."
"Privacy? Yeah right. As if that's ever mattered. You're not going to do anything to him, are you? I wasn't the only one torturing this evil little twerp. Your precious Marcellus is just as much at fault. He has to be punished too."
"And he will be," Klaus bit, angry at Kol for trying to interfere with how he disciplined his son when it was his fault that Marcel was currently so terrified of being spanked. "Don't you worry about how Marcel is being punished. Elijah," Turning his anger to their older brother, Klaus bit, "Get him under control before I do it for you."
Elijah crossed his arms firmly across his chest and nodded towards Marcel. "I should say the same."
Klaus ignored Elijah's anger. He didn't understand the nuisances of Marcel's emotions like Klaus did. His brother's reaction to disobedience was simply to apply a firmer hand and although at times that did work for Marcel as it did Kol, Klaus knew now wasn't one of those times.
"Come along Marcel," Klaus continued, leaving the room without acknowledging Elijah's disapproving stare.
Marcel quickly followed behind Klaus fearing that lingering in Elijah's angry presence any longer would be detrimental to his backside.
"Kol," Elijah called as Kol watched Marcel leave the room, closing the door behind him.
Kol immediately face the corner, tears still running down his cheeks. "I know," he said lowly. "Face the wall."
Elijah couldn't help but notice how Kol's tears seemed heavier now than when he first put Kol in the corner. Before he could ask his brother if he were alright, though, Kol pressed his forehead against the corner and grunted, "It's not fair. H-he was a part of it too but Klaus...he's always treated him better. It's not fair."
Kol didn't hear Elijah walking over to him pass his heavy sobs. He flinched when he felt Elijah's arm drape over his shoulder fearing that his brother was about to bend him over and give him another dozen smacks for turning from the corner earlier.
"No, 'Lijah, please-" Kol was suddenly struck silent when Elijah spun him into a hug.
Caught off guard by Elijah's sudden affection, Kol wrapped his arms around Elijah and buried his face against his brother's shoulder to hide his tears from Finn.
"It's alright," Elijah whispered. "Klaus may coddle Marcel, but I will always be here for you."
-M-
Klaus led Marcel to his studio, closing the door behind them but saying nothing as Marcel waited awkwardly by Klaus's easel, waiting patiently for Klaus to make the first move.
After taking several long moments to mull over his line of questioning, Klaus finally said, "I could waste both of times with a meaningless game of twenty questions or I could ask you directly 'what is wrong?'"
Marcel knew that was Klaus's way of asking while making it seem like he still had a choice in the matter.
'"Nothing's wrong," Marcel muttered staring guiltily away from Klaus.
"Do not lie to me. I saw the terror in your eyes back there. Tell me what's wrong."
Before Marcel could let out an exasperated groan about how he was fine, he looked up and saw Klaus's eyes, once fierce daggers now pools of soft blue shimmering in worry.
"You were terrified," Klaus continued. "You were thinking about Kol."
Marcel's frown returned as he realized Klaus had invaded his privacy and saw his most frustrating moment of shame.
"I am your father, Marcel," Klaus stated gently, slowly making his way over to Marcel as if he were afraid if he moved too fast he would frighten him even more. "I wasn't able to stomach the sight of you in pain when you were a boy and that hasn't changed. It took me years to even think about spanking you, no matter how spoiled you were, no matter how much you misbehaved, if the thought even crossed my mind I would start to see the little boy who was...terrified, and yet still had the courage to fight for himself. I never wanted you to have to be that boy again, Marcel. If anyone was going to fight for you, it was going to be me and if and I would scrap the entire city and rebuild it from the rubble before I ever let anyone make you feel terror like that again. And yet, in there..."
Marcel blushed from head to toe, ashamed of not being able to control his terror. He knew Klaus wouldn't hurt him as Kol did but he couldn't turn off that switch of caution that kept him alive for the century he spent without his family.
"Marcel," Klaus calling his name drew Marcel's attention back to him.
Klaus's hand moved tentatively up to Marcel's face as if he were afraid he would pull away from him. Marcel didn't move as his father's hand rested against his cheek. Klaus's thumb brushed across his face wiping away a tear Marcel hadn't realize had fallen.
"It's okay. We don't have to do this today. We can just...sit in here a while."
Knitting his eyebrows firmly together, forcing away the soft emotion that dare threaten to show, Marcel pulled away from Klaus's hand.
"There you go again," he stated irritatedly. "Treating me like I'm not a Mikaelson. Kol was terrified too but I didn't see you coming to his defense, guiding him to another room to protect him from the same punishment the Mikaelsons have doled out for a thousand years."
"I am treating you like a Mikaelson! Like the most important Mikaelson." Klaus suddenly placed his hands around Marcel's face forcing his attention on him alone. "If I told you once, I've told you a thousand times: you and Hope. You're the most important people in the world to me. Your needs come before anyone else's, your safety is my priority, and I don't care if it makes you feel coddled or if it makes Kol and the others jealous. Do you understand me?"
"I'm not a child anymore, Klaus," Marcel grunted, pulling away from Klaus's touch once again. "I can protect myself."
As hurt as Klaus was by Marcel's constant rejection of his affection, he couldn't help but feel proud of his son for constantly proving to be the man he always knew he would be.
"You judge me and yet you do the same. Davina is a 'woman' now and yet how often do I see you standing at the ready to protect her from her own fears."
"That's different. She spent years in darkness, tortured with loneliness. She needs to know that she's not alone anymore."
"And what about your torture?"
"I've had a lot worse than what Kol could do to me. I know how to handle my own demons."
"That's not all that I mean."
Marcel stood confused.
Walking over to the metal trashcan sitting in the middle of the room, cold ash filling it to the brim, Klaus said, "I know you, Marcel. I have always known you. And without you having said it, I know what you've felt over the past twelve years. Plagued with the guilt of losing your family - your father daggered by your own hand; the uncle who introduced you the love of knowledge supposedly dead along with the man you considered a friend for nigh a century, lives taken by your own emotion-driven rage; the woman that you loved...forever in the wind, unable to concede to her love of the man who destroyed her family..."
Klaus turned to see Marcel staring off at the distance, unable to look his father in the eyes as he spoke the truth.
"And your little sister, a girl you feared you would never know. If she did by some chance find you, how would you explain to her what you did? How could you explain that the reason she grew up without a father was that you had him daggered in your garden of misfit vampires?"
Marcel's fists tightened at his side in anger. Anger at Klaus for bringing up his past...and anger at himself for causing it. He knew Klaus was right, especially about Hope.
He tried to keep track of Hayley over the years but the woman was clever, used to being on the run and hiding from people she didn't want to find her. When he lost track of them, he feared the worse. What if something happened to Hayley and Hope was left alone, no one to explain her Tribrid genes to her, growing up afraid and powerful. What if some evil witch took advantage of her power and turned her into a monster? What if she became a monster all her own?
"Despite all the guilt you felt over the years," Klaus suddenly continued, drawing Marcel attention back to him. "The moment we returned, instead of forgiving you like we've always promised we would, you were shunned and tortured by the very people who promised to love you, always and forever, no matter what." Taking slow steps over to Marcel, Klaus said, "You have your own demons, just like Davina. And just as you are adamant about protecting her in spite of her age, I will protect you - two hundred years old or not."
Marcel gave up on arguing suddenly realizing where he got his stubbornness.
Staring over at the trash can on the floor, he saw for the first time that it was filled with ash. Hoping to change the losing conversation, he nodded towards it and said, "What happened there?"
Klaus looked back the trash can with a smirk. If Marcel wanted to change the conversation, so be it. As long as he got his point across.
"It's a painting," Klaus answered. "Or, several paintings, actually."
Marcel's eyebrow raised in confusion. "Well, if it turned to ash, I think you might have used the wrong medium."
With a slight chuckle, Klaus said, "They didn't start as ash." Blushing as he thought back to what he'd done, he continued, "With the resurrection of the...most iniquitous man on Earth, I needed a way to destroy him without following the instinct to abscond to Europe and hunt him down before he could come back and do the same to the people I love."
Marcel stared at the trash can, pounds of ash piled up inside of it. "You painted portraits of Mikael...just to burn them?"
"There are worse ways to cope."
Marcel's guilt only grew. While he was sulking over Klaus's resurging friendship with Caroline, his father was spending hours of his day attempting to cope with his own fear alone.
"But enough with the tear-jerking," Klaus said as he walked to the stack of blank canvases lying against the back wall. "Let's kill some time, shall we. What will it be today? A sunny meadow? A beach shore at sunset?"
Marcel couldn't help but smile at his father's ability to change the subject whenever he thought things were getting too serious between them.
"Painting is your endorphinic release," said Marcel as Klaus began picking out which paints he would use for his newest creation. He sauntered over to the sofa, stretching his arms to the sky as he restrained a yawn. "I always preferred something a little more physical but since I'm sure Elijah would probably pop a blood vessel at even the thought of me going for a light jog around the Quarter tonight," Klaus watched curiously as Marcel laid across the couch with his back to the room. "Think I'll just take a nap."
Scooping a glob of blue paint onto his pallet, Klaus asked, "Would you rather go back to your room? You'd sleep more comfortable in a bed."
"I'm fine where I am."
Klaus grunted under his breath but didn't say anything else on the subject. He simply marched over to the sofa, grabbed the antique afghan hung over the back of it, and draped it across Marcel's body before returning to his easel.
If Marcel wanted to fall asleep on his priceless, 18th Century Italian sofa, Klaus was going to let him fall asleep where he was and move him into his bedroom when he was sure he was asleep.
As he started his painting, however, Klaus lost track of time in the hues of indigos and yellows. Hours went by and as his sunset beach began to form, a golden beam shined through the crack in his curtains and illuminated the painting in a ray of sunlight. He finally glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall. It was a quarter past four. Only a few more hours before Hope woke. He knew he would need energy to keep up with his rambunctious teenage daughter and since a good night's sleep was out of the question, he needed to feed.
He sat his paintbrush down beside his paints but as he moved to leave the room to find an unwitting servant to satiate his hunger, Marcel began to stir.
"Where...are you going," Marcel grumbled under his breath, eyes still shut as he fought against his own sleepiness to check on Klaus.
Klaus smiled at Marcel's drowsy questioning, mind drifting back to days when Marcel would come tottering into his meeting room in the middle of the night curious to see why his poppa wasn't in bed like he was supposed to be.
"Just going for a little early morning feeding," Klaus answered soothingly. "Go back to sleep. I won't be long."
Releasing a shallow yawn as he dragged himself upward, Marcel asked, "Did you get any sleep?" Seeing the nearly finished painting on Klaus's easel answered the question for Marcel. "Do you ever sleep anymore?"
As if ashamed of being called out on the truth Klaus stared at the door and answered, "Just wasn't very tired tonight. Don't worry, I'm fine." Klaus started walking towards the door again, saying, "Go back to sleep. I'll wake you for breakfast."
Marcel threw the afghan back over the couch and stood, following Klaus towards the door. "That's alright. I'm not tired anymore."
Klaus stopped and turned back to Marcel, his eyes narrow as he scrutinized him. "I certainly hope you're not disregarding sleep because you think I am. Even as a vampire, Marcel, sleep deprivation can have adverse side effects on your psyche. Anxiety, depression, paranoia-"
"Ah, so that's been your problem this whole time? Here we all thought you were just insane when really it's been a thousand years of sleep deprivation contributing to your paranoia."
Klaus's threatening glare put a quick end to Marcel's chuckling.
"Really, Klaus," Marcel said, laughter tapering off. "I'm not tired. I need to check on Davina."
Marcel said nothing as Klaus continued to stare at him as if to ascertain himself whether he thought Marcel was simply lying in order to leave or if he'd really gotten all the rest he needed in just a few short hours.
Stepping aside, Klaus said, "Go. Check on Davina. But then off to bed. It's Sunday. There's no need for you to be up this early. Besides, you'll need to be well rested by tonight. When Freya ends the spell nullifying your healing ability, you and I will reassess this issue of your torturing Finn."
As Marcel sauntered out of the room past Klaus, he said, "I'll go back to sleep when you do."
Please forgive this chapter's inability to pass the Bechdel test. Since this story is about Marcel I write almost every scene thinking about him and so sometimes when there's an all-female scene I pull a 'bad feminist' and make them focus on him.
p.s. also do you guys think I'm overdoing it with the flashbacks? i love doing flashbacks and they were my favorite part of the show but I seem to have one in every chapter, sometimes more than one, and i just want to know if you think it's taking too much away from the present narrative or does it help?
