Her hair hadn't dried yet, choosing instead to soak into Rebekah's borrowed blouse and transform the material into something uncomfortable and transparent around the shoulders. She despised letting the dark tresses air dry, but she had run from the mansion without a thought to her appearance, barely taking the time to ensure she was decent; somehow that was the image that stuck with him.
The second quake before she reached Elijah had only made her antsier; personally it was the wind that had set him off.
He really wished he had something to do besides dwelling on his thoughts and her words.
He doubted his abilities to help her current task, however with Elijah in charge of the elixir there was nothing else to do aside from watching the witches, a task that Rebekah had taken over, citing his history of blind rage and the importance of Agnes.
So he found himself left to his own devices while his siblings cleaned the mess he made and Elena left to reason with a moody teenager.
He shook the broken crystal from the inside of one of two unharmed glasses, poured two fingers of bourbon, stared at the liquid and then filled the tumbler to the brim.
"Thirsty?"
He glanced over his shoulder as Finn strode into the sitting room.
"Evidently I have looming problems," he downed the glass, refilling it.
"And the alcohol is helping?" Finn dusted off a chair and sat.
"No," he drank.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No," he downed a third glass and refilled it. "Yes," he sighed.
He dropped into the seat beside Finn and braced his elbows on his knees, staring at the half filled tumbler.
"Elena..." he inhaled slowly, "... She wanted to put off the conversation."
"Conversation?"
Kol sipped his bourbon, licking his lips.
"She's pregnant," he sighed. "Impossible, I know, but she is."
"Yours?" Finn cleared his throat.
"No, Nik's," he rolled his eyes, "of course it's mine."
"And that's a problem?" Finn arched a brow.
"She said one problem at a time," he tipped the glass back and forth. "The elixir will be here in a few hours, and then the Harvest."
"And then you'll discuss the 'problem'," he nodded, tilting his head. "Elena doesn't seem like the type of woman to view a baby as a problem; she raised one, and from what I understand she was prepared to raise him with you."
"That was different," his stomach dropped.
"I fail to see how," Finn frowned.
"Because this one is mine," he snapped. "She loves kids – I know she loves children – but you can't deny that we are all a little touched in the head, Finn." He shook his head, staring at the tumbler. "Maybe that's the problem."
Finn pulled the glass from his hands. "You need to relax. Elena just received impossible information a century after she gave up on the idea of ever carrying her own child. Perhaps she can't fully comprehend it, so she's focusing her energy on what she can understand."
"What if she doesn't want it?" His voice was so quiet Finn almost missed it. "I can't make her..."
"You want it, don't you?" Finn saw the truth in his baby brother's eyes. "Talk to her before you jump to conclusions. I doubt your legacy is what worries her."
"How can you be so sure of that?" He scoffed, shaking his head.
"You may be a demon, Kol," he clapped his shoulder, "but Elena – despite her nature - is quite obviously an angel; you'll balance each other out. Besides, there is a chance the child will take completely after her."
Kol couldn't stop the huff of amusement, but he sobered quickly. "There's a chance I'm right."
"Talk to her, brother," he sighed meeting his eyes, "and try to remember that there are more issues at play than the Mikaelson madness."
"Are you certain she's still here?" Elena stared up at the brick facade of St. Anne's; the surrounding street seemed to have suffered the worst of the earthquake.
"Marcel wouldn't have had time to move her," Thierry glanced sideways. "Did you have to beat him so hard?"
She spun to stand in front him, reached up and cupped his cheeks.
"He hurt my baby," her eyes hardened, "and nobody hurts my baby." She stretched up, kissing his cheek. "This will probably take awhile, so why don't you go over to the Cauldron and check on Katie? Make sure she's not stuck under some shelves."
He lowered his eyes.
"Thierry, what's...oh no," her heart stuttered. "Oh no... baby. What happened?"
"I uh..." he lifted his chin and found a spot on the bricks to stare at. "I killed a vampire that attacked her, and she..." a tear slipped down his cheek. "She knew what would happen, so she tried to k-kill Marcel."
He shook his head.
"One thing at a time, right?" He stepped back. "I'm gonna check the side streets – make sure nobody's hurt. I can grieve later. She's in the attic."
Elena watched him go for a moment before closing her eyes and inhaling slowly. A gale force wind tore through the street, knocking her sideways. She gripped the railing, using it to guide her inside.
She hurried through the sanctuary aisle passed the sacristy and up the stairs. She followed the clatter of window shutters to a threshold she couldn't cross.
Beyond the open door she saw the young girl shivering and struggling against an invisible force.
"Davina?" She called. "You need to let me in. I can help you."
Tears swam in large blue eyes, tugging at Elena's heart; she ran inside when the girl whispered her invitation and knelt. She pressed the heel of her palm to Davina's sternum and whispered, listening to her heart and breathing slow.
The wind calmed with her.
Once, she had felt the endless stretch of time and had done everything in her power to speed it up, but now that time was no longer on her side and she should have been hurrying along, she couldn't bring herself to do it before Davina was emotionally ready to talk, so Elena smoothed sweat damp hair from Davina's face and hummed a snippet of song concealed in the corner of her mind until that exact moment as her strong arms held the girl to her chest.
She could give her a minute, so she did.
She hummed while Davina drew in ragged breaths and sniffled and when she did look up Elena met her red rimmed eyes.
"What are you?" Confusion swam in her gaze. "I felt you using magic earlier."
"I'm a witch and a vampire," Elena sat back on her knees, brushing some damp earth away. "You threw this up, didn't you?"
Davina looked down and blinked fast, but tears still slipped out. Elena grasped her hands.
"I need you to stay calm, okay? Just stay calm; if you get upset you'll only make it worse," Elena drew in a slow breath. "You know what's happening?"
"I'm dying?" She swallowed.
"Yes," Elena nodded. "I won't lie to you, Davina. You can ask anyone and they'll tell you that Elena Gilbert is a terrible liar. I suck at it." She tried for a laugh, but it didn't quite come out. "The magic from the other Harvest girls is consuming you, and it's gonna take the city with it; you can save everyone by completing it."
Davina scrambled backwards. "The witches sent you!"
"No," Elena held up her hands. "I sent myself, and I don't do anything for people who would murder innocent children. If I could undo this mess I would, but I can't. I can't guarantee that the Harvest works and I can't promise to save your friends, but I can try to save you, and you can save everyone in New Orleans."
"How?" Davina searched her eyes as Elena smiled.
"There's this elixir."
"How is she?" Kol cleared his throat, startling Elena from whatever thought had puckered her brow.
Elena glanced back toward the bedroom where she had placed Davina under the effects of a light sleeping spell.
"She was anxious," her fingers drummed over the table near the door.
"She's still in agreement, though?" Kol lifted her hand and gave her cold fingers a squeeze. His attention was split between her pale features and Davina's erratic heart. "I don't enjoy the idea of dragging a screaming child to her death."
"She'll do it; she's just scared, and her fear makes her deteriorate faster," her breath quickened," and the longer it takes for the elixir to get here..."
He cupped her cheeks and tipped her head up to meet her eyes.
"You need to calm down, my love," he murmured. "There were a few delays because of the weather, but someone from Mystic Falls should be here soon and then this will be over. Why don't you go outside and get some air?"
"I can't," she shook her head. "I have to watch Davina in case she..."
"I can sit with her," he cut her off, "and if she wakes up I can put her back under. Go and get some air, or blood," his thumb stroked her pale cheeks, "I'll find you if anything changes. I promise." He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.
She nodded with her eyes closed and exhaled. In a daze she took the stairs and found the kitchen. The stocked fridge beckoned to her, specifically a bowl of grapes and a bag of B-positive. She took both out onto the porch, placed them on one chair and sat in the other.
She toyed with the bag of blood, but lifted her gaze to the sky.
Grey clouds roiled overhead, blotting out the setting sun and casting ominous shadows over the gravel drive.
Purple and green flashed through the heavens. She didn't even realize she had moved out from the veranda until the sky cracked open and the first droplets of water hit her hair.
No amount of magical sedation could stop what was coming.
Had she really been lying on a beach a few days ago?
She tipped her face upwards and the rain fell down. It soaked through her hair and plastered Rebekah's blouse to her chest, washing away the anxiety of the afternoon. She smoothed the wrinkles from her shirt, hands stopping on her abdomen.
Thunder rumbled.
Lightening flashed.
A million cells multiplied in her forgotten womb, creating a life that should have never existed.
She sucked in a breath and shook her head.
"One problem at a time."
Her eyes opened, flickering to the rental car as it crunched over dark earth and splashed through a puddle; they narrowed when the driver stepped from inside with a large umbrella.
She hurried over and slipped underneath.
"Damon," her head tilted to the left, "what are you doing?"
"Rebekah called Matt and said you needed the elixir," he reached into his pocket. "The quarterback called Stefan and I volunteered to bring it down here."
"You brought me something you don't believe in?" Her brows lifted. "Why?"
"Maybe I wanted to see you," his eyes twinkled. "Didn't you miss me?"
She ignored the question and took the familiar bottle with a murmured 'thanks' and moved to run inside.
"Elena?" He grabbed her arm.
She pulled it free and shook her head.
"One problem at a time."
She left him staring after her and raced inside, pausing long enough to show Rebekah the prize and tell her to get the witches.
It was time to finish the Harvest
Truthfully she had feared the wrath of fire most. There was nothing quite as beautiful and destructive as fire. The city had known its rage twice since the arrival of the Mikaelson clan. She had felt that deadly heat on her skin –pulled Marcel from its jaws before he could be consumed by the ravenous hunger.
She had rebuilt the city in the wake of the tragedy with Marcel – her friend. She knew the devastation first hand.
Fire fueled by magic would be a million times worse.
Thankfully Davina had consumed the elixir and allowed Agnes to complete the Harvest. The earth lay still. The wind ceased. The rain tapered off.
For whatever reason, Davina trusted her.
Thousands lived, freed from agonizing death.
Davina trusted her.
She led the girl here.
She brought the calm.
She beckoned the quiet.
Davina trusted her.
Davina trusted her and now she laid with a great slash in her throat, blood soaking into her white dress. She appeared a mess next to the other girls.
The seconds ticked by, testing the convictions of the witches and the strength of Elijah's elixir. A sinking sensation gripped her gut, and she didn't know if she was going to explode, cry or throw up.
She stared at them as her breathing slowed, and then something happened; she swore their features changed into variations of her face and Kol's.
It was Sophie's broken sobs that ripped her from the macabre sight. Her gaze landed on Agnes, and she knew what she was going to do.
There were no syllables to her scream, just rage. It tore from her throat as she tore the heart from Agnes chest and knocked her head off with a backhanded swing. Blood sprayed.
She shook under the shower of red, keeping her back to the others.
"Elena," Kol reached for her arm.
If it had been just him she would have sunk into his arms, but four innocent girls were dead and tears were prickling her eyes and everyone was watching and she hated people watching her cry.
She knew her voice would break, so she said nothing and pulled away, vanishing from the cemetery.
There was absolutely no chance that she would make it to the governor's mansion, she knew beyond a shadow of doubt halfway down Dauphine; it was too far and Thierry was on the other side of the river. Kol's house had burned in 1919 and the Playhouse lay behind.
A single option dangled in midair; she took it, skidding to a stuttering halt in the empty courtyard.
She fell to her knees, letting her tears fill the fountain.
She cried until she had nothing left to give and then pressed her heated brow to the freezing stone, barely acknowledging the sudden approach of feet beyond a broken 'go away'.
She was almost in control; all she had to do was refrain from thinking about Davina or it – her fingers twitched toward her belly.
"Elena?"
Oh no, her spine stiffened. "Leave me alone," she whispered.
"How can I leave you alone when you're upset?" He crouched, pulling her up to sit on the fountain's edge.
"I'm..."
"Don't tell me you're not," Damon rolled his eyes, "you've got misery written all over your face."
Her mouth snapped shut. She looked away; as if that would negate what he had seen.
"It was him, wasn't it?" Damon didn't give her a chance to respond. "I've heard rumors about Kol Mikaelson. They say he's a psychotic maniac."
Elena almost snorted at Kol's affectionate nickname for himself, but she didn't trust her voice to speak, and even if she did she wouldn't have known what to say. Damon had made up his mind a long time ago to hate the Originals.
"Did he hurt you?" He didn't believe her head shake. "You don't have to lie for him."
"I'm not lying, Damon," she crossed her arms. The show of defiance had the added benefit of halting her trembles.
"You're not telling the truth," he countered. "What's really bugging you Elena?"
"It's none of your business," she gritted her teeth. Under her crossed arms butterflies swarmed.
"I'm trying to help-"
"How?" Elena cut him off. "How are you trying to help me? How is bad mouthing my lover supposed to help me? How is turning me into a victim supposed to help me?"
Fresh tears sprang up in her eyes. She stood abruptly when he reached for her.
"You're not helping me," her voice crackled. "Why did you come here? Where..." she gasped for breath. ".Where's Caroline? Where's Jeremy and Ric? Where's B-Bonnie? Any one of them would have come instead. Why you?"
"Blondie wanted to come," he stood, stalking toward her. "She said I shouldn't come, but I told her I wanted to apologize to you."
She sniffed and squared her shoulders. "Go on, then."
"I didn't come here to apologize, Elena," he scoffed. "Why would I? You and your psychotic boy toy both broke my neck, but I'm looking passed that. I came here to take you home."
"I am home," she shook her head; a tear slipped free. "New Orleans is my home..." as she said it she knew it wasn't true. Home wasn't a place anymore, and it hadn't been for a while. "He is my home."
"And you've clearly been compelled," he reached for her arms.
"I'm an original," she sobbed. "I can't be compelled."
She hated herself for the tears. She wasn't sad. She was angry and frustrated, but someone – and she suspected she knew who – had rearranged the emotional triggers in her head.
"Something's going on," he succeeded in grabbing her elbows. "Or else you wouldn't be crying. I'll take you home and Bonnie can fix it."
She pulled her arms free, fully prepared to shriek that she was crying because she was pregnant, but before she could open her mouth Damon flew through the air and crashed through the door into the bar.
She quickly realized where all of Marcel's vampires had been when music spilled out of the room she had once soundproofed; it cut off as Damon's body broke a table.
She was still staring when Kol appeared in the room and hoisted Damon by the back of his neck. It wasn't much of a fight, not that she had expected one; a newly turned Original could handle a vampire two centuries their senior with ease. It was after that point when things got messy.
Elena hurried into the bar, ducking out of the way of flying glass. A large hand pressed a small pile of napkins against her palm. She glanced down and followed the dark arm up to Marcel's abnormally pale features – still healing; he said nothing, just met her red eyes for a second then turned back to the fight.
In those precious seconds she somehow missed Kol finding the metal baseball bat that had once been Thierry's in the 1920's.
It swung and met skin with a sickening thud.
Pure rage flared in Kol's eyes. He brought the bat down once... twice... three times.
The aluminum broke.
He drove the sharp end through Damon's back, puncturing organs, severing the spine and pinning him to the floor.
Damon coughed up blood.
Kol kicked his ribs; growling between kicks.
"Did... you... not... learn after last time?"
Elena felt certain she had missed a part of the conversation.
"What would make you think she'd go anywhere with you?"
"I..." Damon wheezed, struggling against the bat, "I figured she w-would have come to her senses; thought she'd be ready to escape the family that ruined her life."
She recognized the mistake before Damon did, and if Kol said anything else it was lost under the blows. She heard nothing until he broke a piece of wood and Damon begged for mercy.
It was pitiful, really; she considered stepping in but her reflexes were slow. It didn't matter though since Kol's arms were yanked backwards and he was restrained by his oldest brothers.
Elena turned her head to the left when a hand settled on her elbow.
"Are you okay?" Rebekah whispered.
She nodded, looking back to the middle of the room where Kol was reluctantly dropping the wood.
He kicked it away, holding up his palms.
Elijah exchanged a look with Finn; together they let go.
Kol sucked in a slow breath and stepped away. He crouched and lifted Damon's head; his voice held a dark promise.
"The next time you come anywhere near my Elena, or try to take her away from me. I'll make you suffer a more painful death then you could ever imagine. Have I made myself clear?"
When Damon didn't answer Kol stood and gave him a sharp kick in the ribs, repeating himself louder.
"Yes," Damon choked.
Kol straightened his jacket. He caught Elena's eye and held her gaze for a moment before running from the bar.
Elena used the napkins to wipe at her cheeks, looking between Elijah and Finn who were both staring at her.
"What?" She balled up the napkins. "I didn't do anything."
"I think that's the point, love," Rebekah rubbed her arm.
Suddenly she felt the stares of everyone. There was no use explaining what had happened. They saw an act she could have prevented, or at the very least lessened.
She lowered her eyes.
"I'm gonna go find Kol," she murmured.
"I'm going to get a few whacks in,"Rebekah rubbed her hands together. She rolled her eyes when Elijah sighed.
"What? Do you like Damon now?"
"Of course not," he scoffed, "but it's unsporting to kick a man when he's down. Marcellus," his eyes flickered across the room, "how's the spleen?"
"Regenerating."
That was the last thing Elena heard before running upstairs.
His hands ran backwards through his hair, tugging sharply on the strands. He hadn't been able to stop. Outrage had burned through him the second he saw Damon's hands on her.
What had she told him? What was Bonnie going to 'fix'? Was Damon right? Had he ruined her life?
He hadn't been able to stop. He was going to kill him. He was going to kill someone she called friend; part of him still wanted to.
He needed to do something, anything but wait out the silence; it was maddening.
He gripped the bedpost, considered breaking it. The bedroom door opened before he could come to a decision.
"That was a little possessive."
"I'm a possessive man," he sighed, meeting her bright eyes. "I would have been here sooner; he never would have touched you."
She padded across the bedroom floor, not angry merely curious. "What kept you?"
"The Harvest," he inhaled slowly. "The girls woke up after you left; that's one problem dealt with."
Elena's heart fluttered.
"That means it's time to discuss the next one," his eyes slid to her stomach; he missed the knot in her brows. "If you don't want the baby, just tell me because I can't deal with this quiet."
"What are you talking about?" She closed the distance to lift his chin. "Of course I want the baby. Why wouldn't I want the baby? It's the perfect blend of you and me."
She took his hand to place on her stomach.
"Hopefully more you than me," he swallowed.
He had never been one for tears – he couldn't even remember the last time he had cried – but he could feel the pressure behind his eyes. "Why did you call it a problem?"
"I wasn't talking about the baby Kol," she sighed, pulling him down and sat on the edge of the bed. "I was talking about your aunt. I knew we'd have to deal with her eventually because of Hayley but then everything got really personnel really fast, and there was so much going on, and I just needed to think of something else."
She took a quick breath after the rush of words.
"I'm sorry if I made you think something else."
"I'm sorry for nearly killing your friend."
"It's Damon; odds are he deserved half of it, and he will heal and hopefully finally get the message to leave me alone." She managed a small laugh.
Quiet settled around them, not quite as heavy as before. The moment stretched out until Kol's voice broke it and reminded Elena how easy it was to lose explanations in chaotic situations.
"My aunt?"
The last few chapters of this fic are going to have time jumps throughout Elena's pregnancy as the family deals with the coming threats. One chapter at the start of Elena's second trimester, one shortly after Hayley has Hope and one when Elena and Kol's child is born.