Sore. She felt sore. It hurt everywhere. Her bones, her muscles, her fingers, her toes, her head. She was pretty sure even her hair hurt.
Warm. She felt warmth on her skin. And softness. Something soft was enveloping her. She was horizontal, laying on something that was…comfortable. A bed, maybe? Her cheek was resting against something puffy and equally soft. She grazed it, first one side, then the other, it was amazing.
Then she opened her eyes. The light was blinding, she was sure there has never been a light so powerful, it was not natural. Her eyes protested, they stung. Everything was white and unfocused.
But, actually, it was not. That uncomfortable feeling was short lived, because the unnatural binding light was actually the most natural source of light in the universe. The sun. it was just the sun shining through a window, and it took her eyes just a few seconds to get used to it and take in her surroundings.
Standing in front of her, at the foot of what was indeed the bed she was laying in, were three men. Three tall, healthy, seemingly strong men, staring at her, hovering over her. And she was alone. In a room. With them.
In that moment the soreness and the ache didn't matter. She managed to move, adrenaline pumping in her veins, reading her muscles for either fight or flight. She would probably manage none of those. Her first instinct was to cover herself up, even if she didn't know if she was exposed or not. She just needed to shield herself, to cover herself, to protect her figure from their eyes, to disguise anything that might be potentially attractive to them. As if that thing sheet could actually protected, but instincts were irrational and automatic. Then, in a vain attempt to protect herself, or to give herself the illusion of the possibility of disappearing, or escaping, she wasn't really sure what her motivation was, she bundled up, sat up as close as physically possible to the head of the bed and curled up in a ball. Her heart was beating fast, so fast she was positive it was going to burst through her chest. She could actually feel her body moving in rhythm with its pumping, shaken by the force of that single muscle.
One of the men started walking towards her. She retreat some more, curled up tighter. He outstretched his arms in her directions, palms up. He was trying to reassure her. He looked concerned, worried. He didn't look bad. But then again, do bad people ever look like bad people? She mused.
He was talking. He was asking her something. It was hard to concentrate and make out the words. She felt overwhelmed, and tired and confused. She looked around. The room was white, the sheets were white, the wardrobe was white, the table was made of glass, in a corner there was a sleek plant, it was green, a Ficus Benjamin maybe?. The light linen curtains were white. In the middle of the room, in front of her, stood a golden haired man, quite tall, slender, lean, with muscular arms showing thanks to his fitting black shirt. It was long sleeved and she thought it was weird. He was not handsome, his face resembled a skeleton with his too pointed cheekbones and too hollow cheeks. His limps were too full for a man's face and his expression was intense and hard. Beside him stood another man, about the same age as the other one, with black hair, an angular but boyish face. He too was dressed in black, a shirt that was a bit too large on him. He seemed to be more relaxed, more, more…at peace, than the other man.
She was surprised she could notice so many insignificant details in mere seconds.
She turned to look at the dark haired man beside her. He had a prominent chin, stubble. He looked builder or maybe he was just chubbier than the other two. Even though his features were stronger than those of the other two, there was something, maybe the fact that he seemed to be the older of the three, or maybe it was his voice, she didn't know, that made her feel at ease. He seemed kind.
She relaxed a bit and tried to listen on what he was saying.
"What is your name?" he asked her as if he didn't think she would understand him. Of course she did.
She was going to answer, but then something snapped. Her mind kept trying to make her mouth open, but she couldn't. It was similar to what happened when you were listening to an old, or just a ruined, CD in the player. If the surface was scratched or otherwise ruined, the player would not be able to read it, and you would forced to listen to the same word over and over again, repeatedly, never able to move on with the other part of the song. It was happening to her.
Her mind was stuck: My name is-My name is-My name is-. Unable to move one.
The surface was scratched.
She didn't know how to complete the sentence.
Her eyes widened, her heart was beating so desperately she was sure it was going to stop any moment from exhaustion. And then she spoke. She answered the question.
"Non lo so". I don't know.
They looked at her.
The man in front of her was looking at her with so much pity and compassion she felt sick. She felt panicked. Her eyes were pooling with tears, her breathing was coming in short gasps. He moved closer and sat on the bed. She was too out of it to care. She couldn't breathe.
"Hey, hey, it's okay, it's okay. You're fine. Can you understand me?" he asked, trying tentatively to touch her arm that was still close to her body, clutching the sheet.
"Of course she can, she answered the question" said someone. It was the ash blond man. His voice was nice, rough and suited for someone older than he was, but nice. It was kind of soothing.
"Shut up Niklaus. You're going to scare her", the man on the bed said quietly.
"Yes, of course. I am the thing that has there trembling, of course. Not you or the whole situation." He said sarcastically.
"Niklaus now it's not the time" the older man said. He looked at her. "Do you understand me?" he repeated.
She nodded. He mimicked her. "Okay. It is alright, you are in shock. I am sure you will remember in a couple of hours or days at most. Just relax, eat something and I am sure everything will be better" he said, talking slowly and trying to speak as clearly and distinctly as possible.
She nodded.
He outstretched his hand for her to shake "I am Elijah" he said, smiling. "Those are my brothers, Niklaus" he gestured to the man with a nice voice, "and Kol" he motioned to the black haired man, who smiled. "You don't have to be afraid. No one is going to hurt you. As soon as you feel better, you will be going home" he said reassuringly before getting up and going for the door, his brothers in tow.
Home. Home.
His hand was on the doorknob, and he barely had the time to open it halfway that she whispered, her voice raspy, her throat sore and tight, "Non so dove sia".
She saw his back going rigid, he was still for a minute. The man with the nice voice, Nicholas or something, stared at her. He looked angry. Elijah turned around, his eyes wide for a fraction of second before plastering a bright smile on his face "No problem. I am sure everything will be fine. You will remember" he said. He didn't sound so sure of it.
The got out of the room, closed the door, and Elijah leant on it, sighing loudly.
I don't know where that is, she had said.
He looked at Niklaus and Kol. They didn't know what to do. God, what a mess.
Niklaus had been wandering aimlessly through the house. He should be packing for the trip back to London. This was supposed to be a short and relaxing vacation, and between Kol and the girl it had been anything but.
The girl. She was…well, he didn't really know. Hell, she didn't really know! She seemed so lost, and she probably was. He felt sorry for her, but at the same time annoyed. He just wanted to relax, but of course things never could go smoothly, never the way he wanted them go. She was a problem, one he couldn't have ignored of course, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Oh well, it was not his problem anyway. He would go back to London and taking care of her would be Elijah or Kol's problem.
He should go packing. He was heading in the direction of his room, climbing up the stairs up on the second floor. After the first round of stairs he kept walking down the hall, stopping in front of the guest room. What was he doing there? He should go to his room to pack, he chastised himself, and his body turned to leave.
The next moment, his hand was on the doorknob and he was opening the door just a fraction. She was eating, rather passionately, at the rice with the chicken in it, and she was swallowing down huge gulps of water. She looked like a savage. He smiled a little, and took a moment to stare at her and recall the earlier conversation he had with his brothers.
They were in the studio. Elijah was distress, his hands running through his hair, something Niklaus had never seen him do. Kol was speechless. Well, it was a day of firsts.
He dove right into it, no point delaying it "So, what are you going to do Elijah?".
His brother stopped pacing and looked at him as if he had just smacked him across the face "I don't know", the terror was almost palpable in his voice.
Klaus nodded. He had to take charge, it seemed. Trying to put some sense into his momentarily senseless brother. "I think we should report her to the authorities. She's from Europe, probably Italy, she seems to come from a medium class family. She seems educated, she understands English so she has studied. Surely she has a family so someone will look for her, or has already. The authorities will know something. Or we could take the matters into our own hands . We would be faster and more efficient of course, she could stay her and not having to endure the pain of questions and hours of waiting in a police station without air conditioning. We could easily track her down and deliver her to her family" he shrugged.
Elijah nodded absentmindedly "Yes, you're right. We should probably do that".
"Do what?" Klaus asked.
"We should take care of it. Is that even legal?" he asked, panicking. Maybe not reporting her was illegal, he didn't really know.
Klaus came over to his brother, brows furrowed, irritated "Elijah, snap out of it for God's sake! What's the matter?" he said loudly.
Elijah stopped and looked him in the eyes "She blonde, Nik. She's young, and blonde and she was in the middle of the desert" he said.
"I know how she is Elijah. I saw her", he spat.
"It's just that…she reminds me of…of " his brother stammered. He sighed loudly, his shoulder moving up and down, inhaling and exhaling, and he looked at him "She reminds me of Rebekah, Nik" he said lowly. He looked away "She was supposed to be here, if it had not been for a problem with a school project she would have been. You know she loves going around in the desert, just like you. That could have been her. I don't know…I just keep thinking: what if it was Rebecca? What if that was my sister, scared and alone? Sometimes we forget how evil the world can be" he said.
"You never forget Elijah. You have me and Kol with bodyguards, and Rebekah is never alone. Here or back home. This is nonsense" he said. His brother was being irrational. That could never happen to Rebekah.
"Someone beat her. Cut her. Didn't that make you think of…" Kol said from his chair, calmly, staring off into space. "Of… you know, her?" he finished.
"Yes" the other two said. Yes of course. That was the reason they had charities supporting women from abuse, providing shelter and legal assistance. That was the reason they were so overprotective with their sister. That was the reason the cuts and bruises on the girl's body, the way her eyes moved frantically, the way her body tried to protect itself were painfully familiar for them.
Elijah coughed, collecting himself. In a moment he was back to being the calm and confident man he always was, sure of himself in every situation, knowing exactly what to do and when to do it.
"It's decided then. We will run a recognition program, we'll need a photo, and we will scan all authorities databases for reports about a missing blonde girl of approximately 25 years. We'll start with Italy of course since she mainly speaks Italian, and that's not a language many people talk unless they live there or have a close relative teaching them. There will be something. There has to be. We can't take care of her indefinitely". Elijah said, back to his rational and practical self.
"I'll make sure that's the first thing that will be accomplished once I go back to London" Niklaus reassured him.
Elijah nodded, "Speaking of which, you should start packing" he said.
Niklaus hated to be told what to do, but, recognizing his brother was right, and knowing it was his way to regain some sort of control, he let it go, much to Kol's surprise and slipped out of the room.
And now, here he was. Suddenly, her head shot up and she was looking right at him, her blue eyes wide, but less scared than before. That pleased him.
She didn't smile and he didn't expect her to.
"Can I come in?" he asked in Italian.
She nodded, looking like a frightened deer. She reminded him of Bambi.
He walked into the room, but kept his distance. She looked better, more alive, there was an energy around her. She was recovering.
"So how are you?" he asked. Could he be more stupid? What kind of question was that? Oh just peachy thanks for asking, he could picture her mocking him.
"Uhm" she looked at him, and he knew she was thinking that the question was dumb. It was. "I don't know actually" she swallowed loudly, her throat still felt constricted and arid. She gulped down more water, trying to keep some composure in doing it.
He nodded "That's understandable", he said taking a step closer without really noticing it. She looked at his legs. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you" he quickly apologized, stepping back looking at his feet, as if to scold them.
She just looked at him. She was glad he took a step back. She felt better having some space for herself.
"So, you're from Italy?" he asked, trying to gain some useful information about her.
"I guess" she said, looking out the window.
He cocked his head "You guess? You don't remember?" he asked.
She shook her head, biting her lower lip.
"I see" he pondered. Maybe she would remember something more personal "How old are you?"
A tear fell from her eye "I don't know" she whispered, and it sounded so hopeless and desperate his heart clenched.
"Is there anything you remember that could be useful? Anything at all. Your name, any name, an address, a building, a song…" he listed. Anything could help them locating where she was from.
"I'm sorry" she was crying now, silently, shaking. "I'm so sorry. I don't know", he could barely hear her voice, it was so thin and feeble.
He came closer, his arm outstretched. He wanted to touch her, hug her, do something to soothe her. Hugs always worked with Rebekah. But she wasn't his sister, so he thought better of it and stopped where he was. She was looking at her hands in her laps, her shoulders shaking, she wasn't paying attention to him.
"Don't be" he attempted a smile, but was sure it came out more like a grimace "It's not a problem at all. And it's not your fault". He assured her. It wasn't true. She was a problem. She was a stranger, and she was delicate. He had to be careful about what he did, what he said and how he said it. He had to make the effort of fishing in his memory for those stupid Italian lessons. Thanks again mom, he thought for the first time without malice or sarcasm. Anyway, being around her, hell just having her in a room in his house had him uneasy. Uncomfortable and tense in his own home. The tension was thick. And she was so small, and scared, it made him feel things. Pity, compassion, doubt, uncertainty. And feeling was exhausting. It was such a waste of energy, trying to keep all those emotions under control, not being able to behave as he pleased, not being free.
But then again, he couldn't say that to her. And the human, rational part of him knew he was being a selfish, childish cold hearted bastard. But that was something he had come to terms to and accepted a long time ago.
And it was true. It was not her fault. Or was it? Oh well, like he said, not his problem.
She smiled a small smile at him "Thanks" she said, her voice stronger.
He looked around, suddenly nervous. He needed to pack.
"Well, I hope you enjoy the food. Feel free to ask for more. If you want to shower this door leads to the toilet" he said, opening a white door at the far end of the room, near the window "You can take a bath too, whatever you prefer" he added, studying the room. Had it always been so white? He never noticed. "And if you wish for clothes just ask one of the maids or Elijah and they would make sure you have them" he finished. He was standing at the foot of her, well his, bed, exactly in the same spot where he was the first time she saw him. Had it really only been some hours?
She tilted her head, looking with tiniest bit of curiosity "Are you going somewhere?"
"Why do you ask?", that came out more quickly and more harshly than he intended.
She shook her head, not taken aback, "It's just that you sound like a parent going away, making sure the kids follow the rules and don't do anything stupid" she said.
"Did your parents use to do that with you?" he asked.
Her smile disappeared, "I don't know" she said, "I hope so".
Well, it was worth a try, he thought.
"Well, have a good day" he bowed and went for the door.
"Thanks, you too. And good…trip" she said, not really sure where he was going and what he was going to do, so unsure what to wish him for. She smiled.
"Thanks" he smiled back.
He went toward the stairs, his mind set on packing. He took the first step and turned around, heading back to the ground floor and toward the dromedaries stables. Just a quick ride before packing, he told himself.
He came back at midnight, and collapsed on his bed as soon as he entered his room.
He didn't pack.