A.N. - There is a time jump in this chapter and there will be lots of others in future ones. I'm trying to put several months into a handful of chapters so we can move the baby plot along.
Any suggestions, comments (no flames), questions, etc are welcome :) I'm always curious about what you guys have to say. Anyway, please review and enjoy.
Song: Christina Perri - Human
"I don't know what else to tell you Josh. Things are pretty quiet here."
Belle was eavesdropping on Max's phone conversation, knowing shed be the topic of their conversation. She usually was when she "overheard" Max and Josh's long talks on the phone. She wondered if Josh was so curious and inquisitive because Klaus asked him to be. It seemed like something he would do.
"Yeah, she's good. She's been keeping herself pretty occupied. I swear, she's the only person I know who can renovate a house in two months while being pregnant."
Belle smirked and put down her paint roller. She poked her head into the next room, which was only a few feet away.
"Not to mention while I'm babysitting your childish ass. Hope's more mature than you, and she can't even walk yet. And, by the way, it's more redecorating than renovating."
Max rolled his eyes as he turned to face his condescending sister. "Thanks for eavesdropping. Not like this is a private conversation or anything."
She wiped her paint splattered hands off on her worn denim overalls as she walked over to him. "Aren't you only supposed to call each other when it's absolutely necessary?" Belle inquired, crossing her arms over her chest.
"What, so I'm not allowed to give my boyfriend a rundown of current events?"
"No."
"Oh come on. I'm sure you and Klaus call each other like ten times a day." Max laughed and returned to his phone conversation, turning away from Belle and heading upstairs to his room.
She stood alone, a deep frown carved into her delicate features. She pressed a hand to her slightly enlarged stomach, caressing it with a feather-light touch.
As it turned out, she and Klaus hadn't spoken since she had left New Orleans over two months ago. He had checked in with Rebekah a time or two - so she had heard, but it was always while she was asleep. She feared that he was still angry at her for leaving. For taking both of his children away, out of his control.
She'd tired to call him - once, but he didn't answer. She wasn't going to grovel or mope around like she was at fault. She was doing the right thing for Hope and their baby.
She shook her head and returned to the sitting room where she was painting the once off white walls blue. Like Klaus' eyes. That way when she found herself wanting to look into them, she could look at the walls and think of him. It wasn't the same, but it would suffice.
As she ran the roller up and down the wall in gentle strokes, the blue color made her train of thought trail off to wondering what the baby's gender was, if she'd really be getting the little boy she longed for. Of course she'd love it all the same if it were a girl, but she feared that a girl would bear too close a resemblance to Lilith. It would be like the universe was trying to replace her beautiful - and irreplaceable - daughter.
Rebekah walked in a few seconds later with Hope cradled in her arms.
Since they had been there Rebekah was eager to be a devoted aunt to Hope. Belle knew how much Rebekah had always wanted to have children of her own, and how much it hurt to know that that would never happen.
Belle was, in many ways, grateful for what Ester and Claudia had done to her. It gave her a second chance at motherhood.
On the other hand, she hated being weaker, slower, fragile. That's one of the many things vampirism had freed her from. The shackles of vulnerability and weakness had broken centuries ago only to be forced back onto her now. She felt cheated.
So, she focused on the positive: the baby.
"I see you're still busy as a bee. You should take a break." Rebekah's broke through the fog that clouded Belle's thoughts, pulling her back to reality abruptly.
Belle shook her head and picked up a paintbrush to start on the corners of the walls. Images of Klaus painting flashes across her mind. She knew he was more than likely painting right then. It was a form of therapy for him. A metaphor for control.
"I'm fine."
She didn't have to look at Rebekah to know that she was scowling.
"I'm not just concerned about your well-being. You've been up and moving since sunrise. You and the baby need to rest." Rebekah came to stand by her side. She adjusted Hope so she could use her free hand to take the paintbrush away from Belle's firm grasp.
Belle frowned and turned to glare at her before handing over the brush. "Fine. You're probably right anyway." Her voice held a hint of gratitude. She wasn't used to Rebekah being so kind to her. It was a little unsettling. She had half a mind to toss a negative comment about Rebekah's outfit at her or insult her in some other way just to see what would happen.
"Here, put her down for a nap. And may I suggest taking one yourself," Rebekah said, carefully moving Hope into Belle's awaiting arms.
Hope squirmed for a few seconds, but quickly settled and closed her eyes. Belle noticed that she had her mother's long and full lashes. There were just about as many traces of Hayley in her features as were of Klaus. She smiled and brushed a lock of perfectly straight blonde hair out of Hope's face. She wondered if her hair would eventual start to curl like Klaus'.
The thoughts of Klaus made her heart hurt and her eyes water. She blinked away the oncoming tears before Rebekah noticed and headed upstairs.
Klaus sat in a chair in front of the door to Claudia's room, an open copy of The Art Of War resting on his lap. He had lost count if the number if times he'd read it over the course of his life.
His eyes trailed up from the pages, watching as Claudia paced her room like a dog locked in a pin. She was past the point of stir-crazed.
"You can leave once you've given me a reason to trust you, and right now I'm far from it." He closed the book and put it down on the table beside him. He crossed it legs and folded his hands together, glaring at her through squinted eyes.
"I've told you everything I know," she insisted.
"And I've told you that I don't believe you. You're holding back, hiding something. As soon as you tell me what it is, Davina will undo the spell and you can go free. Simple."
She rolled her eyes. "If I had anything else to say I would've already said it."
Though he'd never say it to Belle, she and her mother bore quite a few unexpected similarities on the surface. But, at their cores, they were polar opposites.
She ran a hand through her curls. They were shorter and tighter than Belle's, with hunts of gray mingling with the ebony. "I've been trapped in this damned room for months. I need to," her words came to an abrupt halt.
Klaus stood wearily from his chair and approached the doorway, though he could cross the threshold.
A deep groan slipped past her lips before she fell to her knees. Her face was pinched in pain. "Something's happening. S - something's wrong," she stammered. She coughed loudly before blood spattered from her lips onto the floor.
Klaus knew she wasn't pretending. Something was wrong. And whatever was happening to Claudia was without a doubt happening to Belle at that very moment; they were still linked.
A high-pitched wail echoed throughout the house from Belle's room, resounding from the walls.
The noise awoke Hope and she started crying. Though Belle's cries nearly drowned hers out.
Rebekah rushed into her room with a screaming Hope in her arms and Max on her heels. They both looked utterly panicked.
"What's wrong?" Max was by her side in an instant, sitting on the edge of the bed and holding her.
She was curled up in a ball, facedown, clutching her stomach. "It hurts," she whimpered.
She tasted blood. It was in her mouth and on the bed sheets, coming out with each cough and deep exhale as she gasped for breath.
"What does?"
"Everything!" The pain radiated from her stomach to every limb. Every fiber in her body felt like it was in fire. "Something's wrong with the baby! Something doesn't feel right," she cried.
Max turned to Rebekah. "Get Hope out of here. I've got her." Rebekah started to protest, but her cut her off. "Go!"
She turned and rushed Hope downstairs, away from Belle's agonizing cries.
"Help me," she pleaded, looking up into her brother's eyes.
The fear she felt in that moment was stronger than the pain, and it was much, much worse.