Chapter 19: Home Is Where The Heart Is

a/n: Well, guys...this is it! Only one more part after this one! I hope you've all enjoyed the ride, and I hope I've done these characters justice. I've been writing this story for nearly a year...it will be odd to let it go. Thank you so, so, so much for each and every review, follow, and favorite-they've meant the world to me!

"I just don't want to over-stay my welcome," Hayley was saying, as they all relaxed around the formal dining table after enjoying a leisurely meal together. Klaus and Elijah held sentinel positions at either end of the wooden behemoth, whilst Rebekah and Freya sat opposite Hayley and Cami. To Hayley's immediate right, between she and Cami, stood a chair with an empty booster seat. A second identical one sat vacant between Cami and Klaus. Having finished their dinner already, the youngest Mikaelsons had grown tired of adult conversation and scampered off to play in the family room.

"Nonsense," Elijah argued from across the table, his voice gentle but firm. "You are always welcome here. Just as you've always been."

Hayley smiled gratefully, but continued, "I know that, I do…but the last time I stayed here there were a few less people. Rebekah and Freya are both here fulltime now, and Cami and Nik. I'm just saying, I understand if this place has reached maximum capacity. You guys have been great the past few weeks, but I need to figure out what I'm going to do in the long run."

"Forgive me for stating the obvious," Rebekah chimed in, not sounding the least bit apologetic. "But I think it best we all remain under one roof, wouldn't you agree?" she asked, eyeing the open doorway, through which Hope and Nik were clearly visible to everyone at the table. Sipping casually from her wine glass, she added, nonchalantly, "Besides, I rather like the current arrangements."

Klaus thought that last bit probably had more to do with the inordinate amount of time that Marcellus had been spending in his sister's company, than anything else. Now that Rebekah was home for good, his adopted-son-turned-right-hand-man seemed poised to become something more akin to a brother-in-law to him. Only time would tell, and if he were being honest with himself, nothing would make him happier. Marcellus was tied to New Orleans, and Rebekah was tied to this family, bonds which served to keep them both nearby. If they were also tied to each other, better still, as they'd be doubly likely to remain here, with the family, with him. Stripped of his fear of abandonment, Klaus had no real reason to wish for their continued estrangement, and truth be told, if they chose to one day leave him, sad though he may be, he would let them go. Having, at last, tasted true happiness, he could not withhold from those he loved the chance for a happy life.

His eyes landed on Camille.

He watched, bemused, as she picked absently at her dinner roll. He studied her as she sat, silently, diligently psychoanalyzing the family's dinner conversation, no doubt.

Camille listened more than she talked-a job hazard, she'd informed him, ages ago-and he'd learned that, with her, sometimes he needed to prod a little deeper, push her to say something that even she didn't realize she needed to say. She was his loyal therapist, his devoted listener, but in the weeks since they'd breached each other's emotional walls, he had become her intimate as well. She helped him make sense of his complicated history and listened as he reasoned through his occasional overreactions, and he, in turn, had become her sounding board, listening as she listed her worries and her perceived short-comings, reassuring her that said short-comings were not nearly as egregious nor numerous as she believed. Aside from being a father, being Camille's confidante was, perhaps, the role in his life in which he took the most pride. He was forever in awe of her beautiful mind, and he never grew tired of seeing the world through her eyes.

He would be sure to get her interpretation of tonight's conversation later, when they were alone.

"I do, too…" Hayley agreed with Rebekah's assessment of their current living arrangements, though there was a small amount of hesitation in her voice. The truth was, she hated being on the opposite side of the house as Hope, but getting her own place would obviously not solve that particular problem, since then she would only see her child, at best, half the amount of time that she did now. That, and it would traumatize Hope. It had become apparent to her in the past few weeks that picking up where she'd left off with her daughter was not only impossible, it wasn't even what was best for the child. Hope adored Cami, and as much as it broke Hayley's heart sometimes to see it, that bond was undeniable. Slowly, though, she and Hope were rebuilding something of their own, and thankfully, Cami was hanging back and allowing for that to happen.

The two of them had been navigating this co-mothering thing like two soldiers negotiating a field full of landmines. They moved incredibly slowly, taking turns going first and falling back, and, so far, no one had lost any limbs. The thing they both realized was that, as they traversed this uncertain terrain, their daughter was wholly dependent on them to keep her safe. She was there every step of the way, riding on their shoulders, until they reached solid ground. The weight of that responsibility allowed them both to focus on where they were going rather than on the challenges of where they happened to be right now.

Hayley glanced into the family room, her eyes landing on Hope, who was busy teaching her little brother how to properly assemble one of her wooden puzzles. She clapped her hands, smiling proudly, when he was able to fit the last piece, successfully, into place.

Hayley smiled in response to her daughter's obvious love for her brother. She was grateful for their closeness. Cami had given Hope something that Hayley would never be able to give her, something even Hayley herself had never had—a sibling—a Mikaelson sibling, at that.

Hayley could never take Hope away from her home, her family, all that was familiar to her…it just wasn't in her. She couldn't do that to Hope, and looking around the table, she realized, she couldn't do that to any of the people sitting before her. She loved them, and they all loved her daughter. Sometimes, she thought they might even love her…

Her eyes flicked to Elijah.

That was a whole complicated can of worms that she wasn't going to open today…or anytime soon, for that matter. Too little time had passed since losing Jack, but she knew that Elijah was a patient man, and they still had many lifetimes ahead of them. So, perhaps one day…

Klaus eyed Hayley, watching her as she gazed at his older brother. He was an astute man, and it had not escaped his attention these past weeks that she missed the closeness she'd once shared with Elijah and also with Hope. He knew it bothered her to feel separated from her child, both emotionally and physically. Given her past, he understood how important family bonds were to her.

Lately, he'd been working, tirelessly, on adopting a more empathetic attitude. Camille had been helping him to untangle the knotted psychology that existed within this family. Late at night, in his bed, the two of them would share whispered conversations, theorizing ways to ease the transition of Hayley's return, proposing strategies that might help keep their family intact. It sounded quite clandestine, but in truth, it was just two people who loved each other, quietly seeking answers to things that were, in the end, beyond their control. Perhaps that was the most obvious change he'd noted in himself since giving himself over to this thing with Camille—his acceptance that he could not control the outcome of everything, that it simply was not within his power. Oh, he would still try—it wasn't in him not to—but when he became overwhelmed by the things over which he had no control, he would simply lose himself in her. In hushed tones, they would ruminate on the day, ponder things to come, until, inevitably, he would grow frustrated with the uncertainty of it all and willingly allow himself to be distracted by the press of her body against his. Eventually, their quiet words would fade into sighs.

In light of these new personal revelations, he knew that he owed Hayley a great debt for costing her precious time with their daughter, but Camille had helped him see that the situation wasn't entirely his fault. She had also helped him to see that he could still seek forgiveness and absolution for the part that he was responsible for.

Klaus reached down and laced his fingers through Cami's, resting their joined hands atop his thigh.

"You can move into Camille's room," he offered, gesturing vaguely toward the rooms overhead. "As I'm quite certain that she won't be in need of it any longer." He smiled, charmingly, in Cami's direction. "You don't mind giving up your old room, do you, love?"

Cami blushed and chuffed out a soft, self-deprecating chuckle.

"Oh, please," Rebekah scoffed, playfully. "You can hardly call it her room at this point. We all know she's been sleeping in your bed much longer than she ever slept in that one." She winked, good-naturedly, at Cami.

Freya nodded her agreement and shrugged apologetically in Klaus and Cami's general direction. "It's true," she laughed, her eyes crinkling in amusement.

Elijah smiled widely at his younger brother from the opposite end of the table, offering sagely, "That solution would solidify the current sleeping arrangements, which have proven most beneficial to us all." If Hayley moved into Cami's old room, then Cami would be relegated to Klaus's room, permanently, which everyone agreed made Klaus much easier to get along with. Camille had calmed something previously unsettled in his brother. It was a welcome change, and it quieted something in Elijah's own soul to see his younger brother so at peace.

Klaus's lips slid into a lop-sided grin, and he glanced down at his lap, where his fingers remained interlaced with Cami's. He nodded his head, silently admitting to what they were all alluding to. He'd been more relaxed these past few weeks, less angry and paranoid than his siblings had ever seen him…downright docile at times, and he knew they all owed this dramatic change in him to one person.

He squeezed Cami's hand in his and flicked his eyes to the side to meet her gaze.

Cami rolled her eyes and grinned, charmed by the lot of them, despite herself. In truth, she hadn't slept in her old room in weeks. Her clothes had slowly begun to migrate from her own closet into Klaus's. Her hair brush sat atop his bureau, a few of her hair ties scattered across its gleaming surface. In his bathroom, her toothbrush rested next to his, and her shampoo and conditioner stood open on the floor of his walk-in shower.

The room on the other side of the nursery hadn't felt like hers in quite some time.

"As it happens…I don't mind," she replied, smiling good-naturedly at the family's gentle ribbing. It was a happy change to be sitting together at this table as a family, not discussing imminent doom. So, if being the object of everyone's amusement was the price she paid for this moment, so be it.

"It's settled, then," Klaus declared, turning his eyes back to Hayley. "Camille and I will move the rest of her things into our room tomorrow, and Hayley will move into the room on the other side of the nursery." He waited for Hayley to nod her approval, before raising his glass in a toast. "Welcome home, Little Wolf," he said, smiling.

As he drained the remaining wine from his glass, his eyes met those of his brother, and a silent message seemed to pass between them. Klaus tilted his head in Elijah's direction, the barest hint of a smile touching his lips.

There she is, Brother. Don't muck it up.

Elijah raised his glass to Klaus, bowing his head in return. He took a deep breath and drained his own glass.

Message received.

God, help him.

Hours later, in the darkest part of the night, Klaus pressed his lips against the curve of Cami's bare shoulder. She smiled sleepily and resisted the urge to turn in his arms and press her lips to his. She wanted to, but she was so content, nestled against him, her back pressed fully against his front, his hand inside her silky pajama top, drawing gentle patterns across the warm skin of her abdomen.

She sighed.

They'd discovered soon after spending their first full night together, that sleeping in the nude when small children were apt to enter your room at any given moment was rather impractical. Soon after that, however, they'd discovered that when Klaus lent her the top of his silk pajamas, sleeping in clothes wasn't so bad. Reaching behind her, she slid her hand along Klaus's hip, reveling at how she could feel his body heat right through the gossamer material. There was a glowing warmth in her belly anytime he was near, which required only the minutest of fanning for it to flare to life, but this was nice, too. In moments like this, it felt as if only the two of them existed in the world. She thought of all the times she'd thought they might never be, and she was grateful for all that they were now. It was still new, but she couldn't imagine growing tired of it, not in a hundred years.

More telling, perhaps, was the fact that he could not fathom growing tired of it either.

Camille had become everything to him in such a relatively short amount of time. When he looked back on his life now, he recognized that she'd been here for only the briefest portion of his thousand-plus years on this earth, and yet…it was as if his life hadn't truly begun until now, until this. She and Hope, or at least his knowledge of Hope's existence, had come into his life at precisely the same time…and prior to their arrival, life seemed…less. Less real, less worthwhile. Just less. Now they were here, in his family home, in the city that he loved, surrounded by loved ones, and he and Camille had a son, something he never thought possible. Life was so perfect; it sometimes left him feeling afraid, as though he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He supposed an old, deep-rooted part of him feared that happiness like this could not be sustained, and he realized that it might take him years to be able to accept such happiness at face value. In his more unreasonable moments, Camille was there to talk him down, to remind him that she was here, and that she would not leave him, no matter what challenges lay before them. The funny thing, the thing that he still could not entirely wrap his mind around…was that he believed her.

He pressed his palm against the softness of her abdomen and thought about the future.