A.N. - Tomorrow, August 1st, is this story's 1st birthday!
Anyway, now that the baby's gender has been revealed please start suggesting cute and old-fashioned boys names. I have a few in mind, but I want to hear some other suggestions in case I change my mind. By the way, this chapter is told from the eyes of various characters - it changes a lot.
Please review and enjoy :)
Song: Shannon LaBrie - Calls Me Home
A man with dark eyes and pale skin kicked in the front door, completely knocking it off its hinges. He'd already killed the witches - a woman at the back door and a man at the front. They were easy, but now he was faced with a more formidable opponent.
"You really shouldn't have chosen to stay in a public building. They should call you 'Mikael the Careless Fool'," he scoffed, stepping through the threshold with ease.
Mikael immediately pinned the stranger against the wall. "Who are you?"
The man slyly smirked and replied, "I'm Calhoun Campbell, you son of a bitch. And I've come to save my daughter," before he wriggled out of Mikael's grasp, knocking the Original's feet out from underneath him. He dove for a sharp piece of splintered wood from the broken door and drove it into Mikael's heart.
Knowing he had to act fast, as the wooden stake would only keep Mikael down temporarily, Cal rushed into the basement. He could faintly smell her.
Moments later he found her. Belle.
There she was, in the dimly lit basement of an abandoned apartment complex, chained by her wrists to bed, lying on an old, blood-stained mattress. Her hair was frizzed and her face was pale, but glistening with sweat. A cold sweat. She showed no signs of movement, aside from the occasional involuntary jerk. It looked like she was having a nightmare.
He had to wake her, to let her know everything was going to be okay. He had failed her once and he'd be damned if he'd let it happen again.
Cal broke the chains that bound her and he lifted her carefully into his arms. She was limp and didn't stir. Her skin was cool, like autumn air.
"Belle," he said quietly, moving the hair that stuck to her sticky, sweat-covered forehead. "Wake up. Please."
Her eyes stayed closed.
"Belle." This one was more urgent, pleading almost. He shook her gently, but she didn't wake. She just hung limply in his arms like a rag doll.
He dashed upstairs, clutching his eldest daughter tightly to his chest, and took her outside where he loaded her into the backseat of his car. He'd take her home, to her home. New Orleans.
Birds screeched loudly above her head like storm sirens as she ran through the forest, darting between the towering trees. Something was chasing her. She had no idea what it was, only that it wanted her dead.
Suddenly the thicket of trees opened into a clearing and a small cabin was in its center. Maybe her faceless assailant wouldn't find her if she hid in there.
She pushed a wooden chair against the door and hid under a table, clutching her knees to her chest.
The monster started banging on the door with its fists. She could hear the wood cracking under the force of each blow. It wouldn't hold.
"Mama," she whispered as tears streamed down her cheeks, streaking the dirt stains on her face. She wiped them away with her small, dimpled hands. "Daddy. Someone, anyone please. Please help me," she sobbed.
But no one came. She was all alone with the monster knocking on the door.
Cal eyed Belle from his rearview mirror. Her lips twitched like she was trying to open her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
He pulled up in front of the compound and parked. He got out and carried her inside.
He spotted Max, whom he recognized immediately, sitting at the bottom of the stairs with a boy with dark hair and eyes. They were talking quietly, intimately. Max's head snapped in Cal's direction and the other boy's gaze quickly followed.
Max's mouth dropped and the word, "father," stumbled out. He ran over to them. "Oh my God, Belle," he exclaimed.
Cal shifted her into Max's arms. "She's all right, but unconscious. Some sort of spell."
"Thank you." Max nodded. Cal nodded solemnly in response.
Klaus descended the stairs in a matter of seconds. "What happened?" He demanded furiously. Cal could see the fear in his eyes that he was clearly trying to hide. "What did you do to her?" He looked Cal dead in the eyes.
Cal shook his head. "I did nothing. I'm her father, and I rescued her from the clutches of your father, Mikael. She's been put under a spell, I'm not sure what."
Klaus frowned and took Belle's limp form from Max's grasp.
Cal could tell that Klaus didn't trust him. He didn't blame him.
"I'll get Davina on it." He turned to Max. "Keep an eye on Ester. We'll decide what to do with her later."
Cal clapped a hand on his eldest son's shoulder. "We'll talk later."
Max nodded to both of them and headed to the back of the house where they were keeping Ester locked up for interrogation. She'd showed up at their doorstep not an hour before, willingly giving herself up. Needless to say, no one trusted a word that came out of her mouth. She had a secret agenda and everyone knew it.
Klaus reached the room that he and Belle shared and put her down gently on the bed on her side. He had hoped that the day she returned to her side of the bed would be under better circumstances, but he wasn't complaining. She was home.
Cal lingered in the doorway, politely waiting to be addressed.
"Who are you and what makes you think you can walk into my home like you're a part of the family?" Klaus demanded icily as he turned to face him.
"I'm Calhoun. Although, I prefer Cal." He crossed his arms over his chest and looked Klaus in the eyes, not the least bit intimidated.
His attitude with an undertone of arrogance reminded Klaus of one person in particular: Belle. He knew he'd heard the name before. "Ah, so you're the infamous viking warrior father who raised her," Klaus mused, his voice laced with false enthusiasm and thinly veiled skepticism.
A smirk twitched at the corner of Cal's lips. "She's told you about me."
"Well of course. You know, she quite admired you as a child. Of course, that was before you and your bitch wife beat her senseless and abandoned her." A grimace worked its way across Klaus' face as a frown came across Cal's. "How she loathes you."
Cal stepped into the room, anger boiling under his cool facade. "A mistake I vow never to make again." His eyes remained locked with Klaus'. "She's my daughter - my first born, and I love her. I'm sure you can understand that."
Klaus narrowed his eyes. "How do you know that?"
Cal shrugged nonchalantly. "A father always watches over his children, even when they don't realize he's there."
Davina sat in the living room, surrounded by stacks of dusty old spell books, as per usual.
Ester - well, Cassie/Ester - sat tied to a cushioned chair on the other side of the room, unusually comfy for a prisoner in the Mikaelson household, but Elijah had suggested that it might encourage Ester to aid them, and hopefully divulge all of her plans to her once beloved children.
"You are aware that I'm much older than yourself, ergo, I'm more knowledgeable."
Davina rolled her eyes and continued to flip through the books, reading about various types of sleeping spells. "So?"
"So, I can help you," Ester replied simply.
"And what would you want in return for your 'help'?"
"Nothing. I just want my children to accept my offer. I want nor need anything from you. However, I am willing to assist you. I'd like to speak with Belinda and it would be much easier if she were awake to hear me out."
Davina looked up from her reading and got to her feet. "Why do you need to talk to Belle?"
"So many questions," Ester muttered.
Ester's eyes darted around the room, checking to see if Max was still standing guard outside - he was. "You needn't worry about that. And to break the spell that Belle has been put under you'll need the marelock orchid. Ansel will know where to find it."
Davina's brow knit in confusion. "Who's Ansel?"
A knock came from the front door. It was firm, loud enough for Davina and Ester to hear in the east wing of the compound.
Elijah went to answer the door, the heels of his leather shoes nearly mimicking the anxious rapping the came from behind the door.
A rugged older man with grayed hair and blue eyes, dressed in a worn plaid shirt and jeans, stood on the other side. "You must be Elijah," he said expectantly, as though they had met before.
Elijah's brow furrowed. "Forgive me, I don't believe I've had the pleasure of making your acquaintance." His polite words lacked the tone. Something was up.
"I'm Ansel, Klaus' father. His real father," he replied.
A.N. - Just a quick poll, who likes Cal so far? And yes, I'm continuing to bring in several elements from season 2, including Ansel now. Of course, Im changung things up to make it my own. That's the beauty of fanfiction, right? Who else will be making an appearance? ;) We'll have to wait and see.