This one is a tad later than usual; just lots of things that needed to be done today. If you haven't noticed, I write these before I go and write the actual chapter, so what I say now might not come true when I actually get to writing. But for now, there might not be much of some flashbacks. But that might change, so don't freak out if you like flashbacks ;) I own less than a homeless man with a shopping cart.

Dying is easy;

It's living that scares me

-Annie Lennox

Now

March 2012

If you have ever wanted to know what it felt like to be in a room where all the air had been sucked out, you should have been at the Mikaelson residence.

Esther's curious questions had seemed to lead to a reality where none of them had deemed possible. A reality where Emily wasn't as bright and happy as she seemed; one where she was so distraught that not even Klaus could save her. A reality where Emily Harte wanted to kill herself.

Klaus had to give credit to his mother; she barely seemed fazed to learn this, but Klaus could tell she was just as overwhelmed as everyone else. All she was doing was putting on a brave face, a face she had learned all too well in her existence.

Esther raised her head just high enough to meet her son's hollow eyes. She leaned forward, knowing full well of the hurt, shocked faces of her other children behind her. Right now, she just wanted Klaus to believe that it is just them, just talking. Esther leaned even more forward, hunched over.

"Did you know that Emily was," Esther cleared her throat, "um, suicidal?" She barely said the last word. She thought that if she didn't say it, it wouldn't be true. Not with Emily.

"Yes," Klaus said. "She had a plan worked out."

"My God," Klaus heard Rebekah breathe.

Esther ignored her. "Tell me about this plan," Esther pressed. "Was it some sort of Romeo and Juliet thing?"

Klaus leaned back on the couch and raised his left eyebrow, challenging her. "I wasn't going to kill myself. I don't particularly know how to kill someone like me."

Esther raised her own eyebrow, challenging him back. Klaus sighed. "No," he answered simply. "It was just Emily. Just what she wanted."

"She wanted to kill herself."

"Yes."

"So what happened?"

"We left at around eight."

Now, Esther stood up and turned to her other children behind her, who were hanging on to every syllable. They looked warily at their mother, wondering what she was going to do. Esther spoke clearly to them.

"I'm guessing Emily didn't tell any of you what she was planning to do?"

They all looked at each other, never thinking that maybe one of them actually knew and were just keeping her secret. The answer was unanimous.

"No," Finn said, answering for them all. "She never told anybody else."

Esther nodded and turned and turned back to the son in question. "Did you?'

"Did I what?"

"Tell anyone else?"

"No. Who else would I tell?"

"Why didn't you tell anyone else?" Esther questioned back.

Klaus leaned up again. "I didn't care if anyone else knew. Emily did. That's all that mattered," Klaus answered.

"And what did she tell you?"

Klaus started tracing a pattern on his jeans with his thumbs. "She would just get really nervous. She said everything was perfect right now, and that she wanted everything to stay the same. She told me that she couldn't see herself in the future most of the time. Or when she could see herself, she couldn't figure out how to get there. Like from Point A to point B."

"Is that how you felt sometimes?"

"Sometimes," Klaus said softly. "Especially when I thought about Em dying." He bit his lower lip. "Something was hurting Emily," he said. "Something that she wouldn't tell me. It scared her a lot. Which ended up scaring me…" he trailed off.

Esther looked at her son softly. "Did you try to talk her out of it?"

"Yes," he said. "Probably a million times."

"That night?"

"And before."

"Where did you two go that night?"

"The hill. The one where we used to play when we were little."

Esther nodded. "You chose the place?"

"Emily did. I told you that already."

"Right. What time did you get there?"

"Around eight-thirty."

"Did you two eat before you left?"

"Emily didn't. I did."

"What did you two do next?"

Klaus exhaled slowly. "We walked up the hill together and sat down right at the top. Emily leaned back to look up at the sky." Klaus smiled at that. "Then we had a few drinks of the stuff we brought with us."

"Did you two have sex up there that night?"

Klaus's eyes narrowed. "I don't understand how that's any of your business."

"Emily is dead, Klaus," Esther said. "All of this is my business now."

Klaus shifted. "Yes," he said quietly.

"Was this a consensual act?"

"Yes," Klaus ground, his jaw tight.

"Are you sure?"

"I was there," he spat. "What are you implying?"

"There were pieces of flesh underneath her fingernails. I assume this was just because of the sex?"

Klaus was obviously uncomfortable answering these questions to his mother, so Esther moved on.

"Did you show her the stake before or after you two had sex?"

"I don't remember. After, I guess."

"But she knew you were bringing it?"

"It was her idea," Klaus said.

His mother nodded. "Was there a specific reason you two decided to go up to the hill that night?"

Klaus frowned. "Emily wanted to go there," he said.

"It was Emily's choice?"

"Yeah," Klaus answered. "We talked in circles about it before finally agreeing to it."

"Why the hill?"

Klaus looked away. "Memories, I'm assuming. She always liked it up there."

"So," Esther said. "You sat down on the hill, had a drink, watched the sun go down, had sex ..."

Klaus hesitated. "The sun had already gone down. It was eight o'clock," he said quietly. "I told you that." He looked his mother in the eye. "Don't you believe what I'm telling you?"

Esther sat up and put her hands on her hips. "Should I?" she asked.

"I'm going to see her," Klaus told Elijah a few days later.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Elijah said, blocking his brother's way of the door.

Klaus huffed. "You're just worried I'm going to see Em's grave and want to blow my brains out. Which, by the way, isn't possible for me," Klaus teased, darkly.

Actually, I am, Elijah thought. But he wouldn't tell him that. Elijah felt bad that everybody was forcing Klaus from visiting Em but their mother said it was for the best. She didn't want Klaus to start reopening wounds every time he visited her. He could visit in a few weeks but not every day.

Klaus sighed to his brother's insistence and started to drag his feet back up the stairs. Suddenly, Elijah's chest felt a pang. He couldn't do this to him. He just wanted to see her. It had been a whole week. The first week in a long time where nobody had heard Emily. It was just all one big reminder of what they had lost. Elijah ran to his brother and touched him on the shoulder. Klaus looked back.

"Let's go," Elijah said.

"What?"

"I want to come with you."

They walked in silence to the grave. It was mid afternoon, but it had been raining for a few days so it looked later than it actually was. When they got to the sight, Elijah noticed that it was still completely dirt. Well, of course it is, he thought. It's only been a week.

Elijah watched his brother move towards the rectangular mound of dirt. He leaned down and stroked at it with his entire hand.

Klaus stood up too quickly and walked back to Elijah. When he got there, though, he just looked at him. "Why haven't," he asked, "we gotten a gravestone yet?"

Elijah looked at the freshly turned earth. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "Maybe tomorrow we can go get one," he assured him.

Klaus nodded and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his coal black coat. "Which way is the top?" he asked.

Elijah looked at him and frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Her head," he said. "Which way is her head?"

Elijah looked at the grave wildly. "Um, the far end. I think."

Klaus walked away to kneel at the grave again, and Elijah thought, Ah, of course. He wants to talk to her. But to his amazement, Klaus straddled the slight mound and lay down on top of it, his arms holding close the flower arrangements he was crushing, his head and shoes just spanning the six feet, his face pressed into the earth. Then he stood up, dry- eyed, and walked back to his brother. Elijah turned around and started the trek back to the house, shaking with the effort not to look at his little brother, whose mouth was ringed with a lipstick of soil as branding as any kiss.