A.N. - I just got back from vacation and I'm ready to get back into this!
30 chapters :o wow! I'm surprised by how much I've written. There's much more to come. Thanks for everything so far. Please review and enjoy :)
After over seven tedious hours in the car, they arrived at one of the Mikaelson's many houses - this one being located in the heart of Arkansas - just as the sunlight started peaking through the trees.
It was white with medium brown shutters, two stories and a large front porch with a rocking chair on each side of the front door. The yard was smaller than Belle had expected and virtually desolate, aside from some shrubbery. The entire house seemed to be enclosed by thickets of trees and bushes, like a fence created by nature.
It was perfect. Beautiful. Secluded. And, most importantly, safe.
Max parked the car a few yards from the house in the dirt driveway and turned off the car, lingering.
Belle raised an eyebrow. "Everything okay, Maxy?"
He smirked at the sound of her nickname for him. "Yeah," he said dismissively.
She frowned, knowing he was lying. But she didn't press him further.
Belle unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned over to unfasten Hope from her car seat. Clutching the baby to her chest with one hand, Belle grabbed a couple smaller bags with her free hand and headed inside. She could hear Rebekah and Max speaking in hushed voices as they unloaded the bags from the trunk, but she couldn't make out any specific words.
She climbed the steps to the porch and fished out the key from her pocket. It unlocked with a distinct click. She turned the knob pushed it open.
Hope's eyes wandered back and forth curiously as she took in the new surroundings.
Belle smiled. "Do you like it, baby girl?"
Hope let out a tiny, bubbly giggle before settling down again, closing her eyes. It had been a long night for the both of them.
Belle stepped through the threshold, eyeing the room as she set the bags by the door. The house appeared to be fully furnished, but fairly dusty. Good, now she'd have something to do. Anything to distract her from what was going on back home was welcome.
Max and Rebekah brought the rest of their things in. Within an hour Belle had her temporary room - the master bedroom of course - set up the way she liked it. All of her clothes were put away and she was sitting on the bed, clutching a pillow to her chest.
Before they had left, Belle had secretly taken one of the pillows from Klaus' side of the bed to keep with her. She knew she'd struggle to sleep without him next to her, so she'd hoped it would help. It'd have to do for the next few...weeks? Months? She wasn't sure.
Rebekah walked in, a sleeping Hope in her arms. She eyed Belle warily, but didn't ask why she was sniffing a pillow. Belle figured she knew anyway.
"I just got her to sleep." Rebekah took a few steps closer, careful not to jostle the sleeping baby.
Belle's lips curled into a slight smile. "Good. She's a little angel, isn't she?"
"She really is." Rebekah kept her eyes on Hope as she sat down at the foot of the bed. "She's absolutely beautiful."
After a few moments of silence passed between them, Rebekah's eyes moved to Belle's. "Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, girls are sweet and easier to handle - not so temperamental - but the idea of a tiny Klaus is just..." She smiled widely, looking off into the distance at nothing in particular.
"Two Klauses," Rebekah mused. She shook her head. "I think we're fine with the one. He's a handful."
Belle laughed out loud at that. "He is, but I don't mind it."
Rebekah smiled, a rare sight for Belle's eyes, before regaining her composure. "You're good for him. Maybe you're the key."
"The key to what?"
"His redemption." Rebekah paused, adjusting Hope in her arms before continuing. "Elijah believes it's Hope and you're unborn child who will pave the road to his redemption, but I'm not so sure I believe that. When he's with you he's not overly paranoid or temperamental. It's like you balance him out, which is ironic since you two are practically the same person most days. You're good for him. I just thought you should keep that in mind."
A crease formed between Belle's brows. What was Rebekah implying? Did she think that Belle would leave him?
She shook her head, realizing that she was over thinking it. "I know what you mean." Belle smiled a little, though it was mostly forced. "I should get some sleep. Hope has the right idea." She chuckled and put the pillow down behind her.
Rebekah nodded. "Sure. I'll let you sleep. Let me or Max know if you need anything." She stood and headed for the door, pulling Hope closer to her chest. "I'll put her down so she can finish her nap." As Rebekah exited, she closed the door behind her.
Overcome with exhaustion - both physical and mental - Belle curled up under the sheets with Klaus' pillow under her head, wishing with everything she had that it was his chest and not the pillow.
It was autumn. The leaves around them were vibrant shades of orange and yellow. They were at the house in Arkansas.
There was a slight chill in the air. Belle pulled her sweater closer, struggling to pull it over her large, pregnant belly. She anxiously chewed her lip as she watched Klaus' boots as he paced the ground in front of her. He ran his hand over his hair in frustration. She could feel it radiating off him.
"How could you let this happen? You were supposed to protect her!" His voice was as angry, sharp like a knife.
She flinched as his words cut her. "I'm sorry," she said in a small voice. She averted his eyes. "I didn't mean for it to happen." Her voice was pleading, screaming at him to listen.
He wasn't having it. He stopped pacing and came to stand in front of her, standing dangerously close. "I knew I shouldn't have trusted you with my daughter."
Tears clouded her eyes. "I'm sorry."
He scoffed. She could feel his breath on her cheek. His scent filled her nostrils as he stepped closer, leaving very little space between them.
She felt small. Microscopic, almost.
" 'Sorry' won't fix the problem, will it?" He spat.
Each word was like a knife twisting in her stomach, tearing her down slowly, painfully.
"Stupid childish girl. I'm not sure I can even trust you with our child." His hand rested on her stomach. His touch was firm and rough. It sent nervous chills up her spine.
She wanted to push him away, but she couldn't. She was paralyzed before him, eyes locked on his. Her lips were parted, but no words passed from them. She couldn't speak. She couldn't scream.
The smirk she once loved came across his face. It sent a shock of terror through her whole body, making her hands start to shake. She was sure her entire body was trembling.
"I can see why your mother hated you, love. You destroy everything you touch." He took a step back. In one fluid motion, he had her by the throat. Her feet dangled inches above the ground. Her hands pulled at his grip, but it didn't loosen. "No matter. I'll make sure you never lay a hand on my son."
She coughed and choked out, "no, please." Her eyes filled with tears that spilled down her cheeks. "Don't." Her voice was strained as his grip tightened.
Without warning, he plunged his fist into her chest, holding onto her heart with an iron grip. "At least now you'll be reunited with your daughter."
The pain resonating from her chest was suddenly gone. She was numb as she fell to the earth below, watching Klaus hold her heart in his hand.
Belle shot straight out of bed, drenched in sweat. Her breathing was far too fast, like she had just been for a run. Her heart raced, pattering like a machine gun. It was just a dream. A nightmare.
She took a series of deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. Breathe.
According to the clock on her bedside table it was 3:47 in the afternoon. She ran a hand through her sweaty curls and fell back on the mattress.
Klaus' pillow - his scent - must have had something to do with her terrifying dream. Though she felt lonely without it, she took his pillow and threw it into the floor.
She rolled over, facing the empty side of the bed. She closed her eyes and hoped to rid herself of the image of Klaus with her bloody heart in his hand that was burned into her head.