Chapter Eleven: Volition
/vo'liSH(e)n/
noun: the power of using one's will
Elijah stood with his mouth agape. Horrified as he watched his brother collapse on the carpet. He surveyed Klaus' swollen lips and welted cheekbones. A hand shaped bruise wrapped around his neck. Elijah's stomach somersaulted with guilt. He wasted too much time in shock and grief after Klaus ran away. He should have chased him instantly. His brother was in no state to be wondering off on his own, regardless of his near immortality.
The elevator dinged and the doors began to close.
Elijah snapped out of his thoughts and rushed to pull Klaus into the barren elevator. He was soaked, and liquid dripped from Elijah's fingertips after he let Klaus slump back to the ground. The sharp and pungent smell of blood and ammonia filled the small space until Elijah retched and covered his nostrils with the neck of his shirt.
"Brother…what have you gotten yourself into…" whispered Elijah as they descended.
Elijah bit into the soft skin of his lip until he tasted copper. His love for his brother was the only thing that outweighed his simmering anger. It was love that brought Elijah to his knees and drove him to open the veins in his own wrist for Klaus to drink. He watched as the blood dripped past Klaus blue and red chapped lips. Slowly, Klaus' skin regained its youthful glow and the bruises disappeared.
How many times would Elijah search for Klaus, only to arrive and find him broken? Elijah's heart throbbed painfully in his chest.
"Wake up, Niklaus," said Elijah sullenly as the elevator reached the ground floor. He nudged and tapped Klaus' face until his brother blinked awake. "Stand up."
Energized by the blood sharing, Klaus climbed to his feet without help. He crossed his arms under Elijah's piercing gaze and stared steadfast at the wall.
Elijah sighed.
"You need pants," he muttered. The elevator doors opened and Elijah grabbed the first man he saw waiting for the elevator and hit the 'doors close' button. He held the man's jaw to maintain eye contact as his pupils dilated.
"Shut up. Give us your clothing. Now." compelled Elijah abruptly.
The man stripped in a hurry, barely managing to stay upright as he peeled off his khaki slacks and wrinkled white button down.
"Get out," said Elijah as he opened the elevator doors, shoved the man out, and closed the doors once more. "Niklaus, get out of those putrid clothes and change into these."
Klaus winced as Elijah ordered the man back into the lobby. Elijah's tone hardly differed from Marcel's when Marcel kicked him out of the apartment mere minutes ago. He hated to take orders, but he had no reason to refuse. Klaus slipped into the new, baggy clothing and waited for Elijah's next commandment. This was the version of Elijah that everyone feared. This was the ice cold Elijah that nightmares were made of – the Elijah that would cut down families and villages to get what he wanted. Klaus felt himself wither and shrink under Elijah's temper.
"Let's go."
Elijah reopened the elevator doors and grabbed Klaus' wrist. If Klaus couldn't be trusted to care for himself, then Elijah would give him no choice. Elijah pulled Klaus roughly out into the open at a quick pace through the lobby. He ignored the odd stares and whispers from confused onlookers, but Klaus flushed with embarrassment at being manhandled in public.
"I'm not a child, Elijah," said Klaus as he tried to wrench his hand away.
"Then don't act like one," snapped Elijah. His grip only tightened as they left the apartment building.
They speed walked in silence just like this for miles until they reached the Mikaelson Estate. Elijah pulled Klaus through the streets with minimal protest while Klaus tried to think of a way to explain the state in which Elijah found him. When they finally crossed the threshold of their home, Freya was waiting with her arms crossed in the courtyard. So that was how Elijah had discovered his location.
Freya's heavy make-up looked smudged, as if she had been crying. Her hair was tousled on one side – a sign she had been pulling at her hair while working her magic. Her lips were pursed in a thin line, but the bottom lip trembled slightly as they got closer. Klaus' organs twisted in his abdomen as he sifted through guilt and anger. He hated to put his sister through so much pain. He also hated to be watched and controlled when he set his mind to something. Before they reached Freya, she turned and darted up the steps and disappeared into the manor without a word.
Elijah continued in silence as well as he pulled Klaus up the steps, down the hall, and into the bedroom they had shared the evening prior. Elijah shut the door behind them and finally released his bruising grip on Klaus' wrist. Then, Elijah moved to the nearest table and braced himself with his head hanging between his shoulders.
Klaus took a shuddering breath as he watched his brother's spirit break. The pain was heavy and sharp in the air. This was entirely his fault.
"Do you hate me, Elijah?"
His inquiry was met with a soft, bitter laugh.
"I've hated you for centuries, Niklaus, but I've loved you my entire life," said Elijah as his knuckles turned white from gripping the edges of the table. "It's painful, the extent to which I at you at this very moment, but I love you more than I hate you."
Klaus just nodded. He understood.
Elijah continued, "I was leaving to fetch breakfast when I saw you with the white oak in the courtyard. I thought to myself that maybe I would make food in the kitchen…but a stroke of dumb luck inspired me to go out for your favorite beignets."
Klaus swallowed thickly.
The wood snapped under Elijah's grip, but he stayed hunched over the table.
"What would have become of you had I not chosen to walk through that courtyard this morning? Had I decided to walk to the kitchens instead, would you not be dead right now?" he asked softly, his voice cracking.
"Elijah – "
"No, I've not finished," said Elijah, "I saved you – as I always do – and then you ran away to find that – that bastard of a man, Marcellus."
Klaus' heart skipped a beat.
"Don't look at me like that, Brother," said Elijah as he turned his head to catch Klaus flinch. "You've always been stubborn. Of course I knew you were searching for the last thing on earth capable of killing you. As Freya tried to locate you, I thought – "
Elijah's voice cracked and he brought his palms up to cover his eyes.
"When Freya sent me to that building – I thought I was going to collect your body, Niklaus," said Elijah as tears dripped down his wrists. "I didn't think I would see you alive again, not after what I said to you this morning – not after the way I acted."
Elijah hiccupped.
"I'm sorry, brother. Forgive me," begged Elijah as his shoulders trembled and Elijah fell silent.
Klaus' stomach dropped like a stone.
"I didn't…this wasn't your fault," stuttered Klaus, shocked that Elijah blamed himself for Klaus' suicidal breakdown.
"If I had stopped and listened – if I hadn't left you alone or given you the white oak – if I hadn't been so rash when I saw what you were doing," rambled Elijah as his hiccups worsened. Elijah gripped fistfuls of hair and curled forward as he tried to stop shaking. "If it weren't for me, Marcellus wouldn't have raped you agai– "
"Bloody hell, Elijah," cursed Klaus as his face turned red instantaneously. It was his turn to cover his face with his hands. From behind his palms, Klaus mumbled, "he didn't ra – he didn't…force me or anything this time…"
Klaus groaned and turned away. "I don't want to talk about it," he muttered. He didn't want to explain that he had whored himself out to sadistic psychopath in exchange for euthanasia.
"Anyways, this isn't about you, Elijah," said Klaus sternly. "I need you to know that it's not your fault if anything happens to me. Tell me you believe me. Tell me."
Elijah stopped shaking and hiccupping. He offered an almost imperceptible nod of confirmation. That was good enough, Klaus supposed. Klaus went to sit next to Elijah on the edge of the bed, but Elijah stood up instantly and began to pace.
"Are you going to go back to him?" asked Elijah suddenly.
Klaus blinked rapidly, "I don't understand…"
"If I don't give you the white oak bullet, are you going to seek out Marcellus once more?" asked Elijah.
"God no, why would you ask me that?" said Klaus instinctively, but the truth wasn't so simple.
Elijah seemed to sense the insincerity as he scoffed and quickened his pace around the room.
Klaus couldn't lie to himself. His hair had barely dried after Marcellus' humiliating display of dominance and yet, Klaus felt his body ache with emptiness craving to be violently soothed. He frowned. How could he not promise to grant such a reasonable request? Marcellus offered him two fates. One was death. The other was to be fucked into oblivion until he forgot that he wanted to die in the first place.
Elijah sighed knowingly and dug into his pants pocket. He held his fist over Klaus' lap and dropped the white oak bullet on his thighs.
Klaus froze.
"You want me to kill myself?" Klaus asked, fearful that his perversions had pushed Elijah to his limits.
Elijah shook his head.
"I don't want to be the gatekeeper between you and death, dear Brother. I won't – I can't – force you to stay with me and live a tortured life," replied Elijah softly, "I love you, Niklaus, but my love and my stubbornness sent you back into the clutches of a man who…"
Elijah gestured up and down towards Klaus, remembering the state in which he had found his brother – half naked and beaten.
Klaus nodded, as he was painfully aware of the visuals in Elijah's mind. He avoided eye contact as he picked up the bullet and felt the smooth curves of the wood rolling between his fingertips.
"I don't understand why you care so much," mused Klaus softly.
"Would you not do the same for me?" said Elijah.
He brought his fingertips to Klaus' chin and tilted Klaus' face upwards until their eyes reconnected. Klaus knew he would go to far greater lengths to prevent Elijah's untimely death. He had no answers to Elijah's inquiry that were not riddled with hypocrisy.
Elijah let Klaus' chin fall once more as he turned away.
"Well then, Brother, I've spoken my piece. If you want to die, you don't have to dance with the devil in order to do so," said Elijah, "Always and forever, Niklaus. I hope to see you soon."
And with that, Elijah left without looking back and gently closed the door behind him.
Klaus was alone again. The silence rang in his ears as his heart pounded in his chest. The pressure made his ribs ache. He was tired. It was a tiredness that ran deep through his bones, and no amount of sleep would cure him. Not when nightmares haunted him at night and memories tormented him at daybreak. His breath hitched. Klaus knew he could make it stop and never feel this way again. No more pain. No more suffering. But then there would be no Elijah, no Rebekah, no Hope. His stomach churned.
Klaus had a choice to make at this very moment.
Klaus closed his eyes and fell back into the bed to let his mind drift. How many months had passed since he had been imprisoned in the tunnels below New Orleans? How many months since Marcellus had first raped him? Perhaps five or six, but Klaus hadn't been keeping track. How many centuries since his father had last dragged him into the woods in the middle of the night? Nine centuries perhaps. Maybe more. His life had been a blur of anxiety and poor sleep. He sighed and shifted deeper into the plush comforter to remind himself that the stone cold tunnels of the city and the prickly pine forest floors of Scandinavia were both far away and long ago. The small bullet felt heavy in his hand as it called to him.
Klaus had asked for none of this: a half-life filled with imprisonment, rape, hiding, and magical illness – a cursed life with neither choice, nor autonomy.
And yet he reminded himself – he had a choice to make right now.
Klaus' heart rate slowed as he unfurled his fist and stared down at the white oak.
He had a choice.
Those words echoed in his mind and reverberated in his soul.
A hint of happiness glinted in his chest like the sun peeking over the horizon. So miniscule, yet Klaus' starved heart grasped at the feeling. Peaceful elation. Elijah had simply given him a choice – returned his free will – restored his autonomy. For the first time in months, he felt a flicker of self-respect and dignity. Klaus had gone so long without either, that he had barely recognized them when they returned.
Waves of gratitude washed over Klaus' dark and poisonous places. The darkness didn't disappear, but it lightened just enough for Klaus to feel as if he could breathe again.
Klaus sat up with renewed vigor. As he did so, he crushed the white oak bullet in his fist until only powdered wood remained. Klaus grabbed an empty cologne vial from the dresser and poured the dust into the vial like sand though an hourglass.
Quickly, Klaus jogged out of the bedroom in search of his heartbroken brother. He needed to make things right. He needed to show Elijah that he was still alive.
"Elijah!" Klaus called down the hallway.
There was no answer, but in the same way that he could feel his bond with Marcellus, he could feel his bond with Elijah pulling at some place deep inside of himself. It brought him down the hall to one of the many spare bedrooms in the estate.
He knocked, but there was no answer. He heard shifting, coughing, and maybe a sniffle. Klaus knocked again and cracked open the door.
"Elijah, it's me, Niklaus," said Klaus as he peered through the opening. He could just barely make out a dark suit half covered in fluffy sheepskin throws. Klaus shut the door behind himself and saw that Elijah was prone on the bed and face first in a pile of pillows. He was surprised that his brother had not yet passed out from lack of oxygen.
Finally, Elijah sat up, and Klaus saw his puffy red eyes had barely dried.
Klaus opened his mouth to speak, but the air rushed out of his lungs as Elijah lunged forward and crushed him in an all-encompassing bear hug.
"I'm so happy," whispered Elijah in Klaus' ear, and Klaus knew he had made the right choice.
"Good," replied Klaus as he slipped the bottle of dust into Elijah's suit pocket. He knew he could trust Elijah to guard the white oak. The mere existence of an exit sign was enough, and Klaus felt no need to go down that path again anytime soon.
"Always and forever," Elijah reminded Klaus as they stood with their bodies melding into one.
Klaus nodded and let his head nuzzle into the nape of Elijah's neck.
"Always and forever, brother," he said, happy to be loved.
For at least a single moment, everything seemed okay.