This wasn't the original chapter I had planned, but I got this idea and couldn't let it go.

"Stop it, jerk!"

"What's wrong, Ty, can't take a joke?"

"It won't be funny when I rip you in half!"

Klaus groans as he walks down the stairs. There has been far too much fighting as of late. He'd be a hypocrite to expect the boys to not argue. Heaven knows he and his siblings have experienced their fair share of spats. As much as he tries to lecture the "brothers don't fight" mantra, it gets harder as the years pass on. Usually, it's Jeremy and Tyler.

But today, Klaus hears his eldest son instigating.

He reluctantly walks into the kitchen. Tyler is glaring at Marcel, fists rolled up in balls at his side. The older brother stands there with a smirk on his face.

"What in the world is going on here?" Klaus asks.

"Marcel is being an as…jerk!" Tyler quickly corrects.

"It's not my fault he can't take a joke," Marcel replies with a shrug.

"It's not funny!"

Klaus places a hand on his shoulder. "Tyler, please. Tell me what he's doing to upset you."

Tyler points to the kitchen table. His backpack harness is in the middle. On one side of it, is a small blue roll of plastic bags. On the other, a box of dog treats.

"Marcel told me he had a surprise," Tyler explains through grit teeth. "I come in here and he shows me this!"

Klaus inspects the bags further. "Are those…"

"Doggy poop bags," Marcel finishes. The smirk doesn't leave his lips.

Klaus arches a brow. He tilts his head, waiting to see even the smallest inkling of remorse. "Marcellus. You truly think this is funny?"

"What? You call him your little pup. And he technically is one…"

"I'm not a dog!" Tyler snaps.

Klaus pulls him against his chest before he can do anything with his fists.

"Shhh, shhh," he soothes. Tyler's body shakes. "Deep breaths, little one. You're not a dog, okay? You're my little pup, but that's just a nickname, right? One that comes from love."

Tyler frowns, squirming a little. "Yeah."

"You're my strong wolf. There's nothing wrong with being one. It makes you so special. Hybrids are very rare." Klaus caresses his hair. He feels Tyler begin to calm. "You are such a special little wolf. So brave and strong. I love you so much."

Tyler buries his head in his dad's shoulder. "Love you too."

Klaus kisses the top of his head. He glances over at Marcel. Still, his son smirks and leans against the counter with his arms folded over his chest. Klaus frowns. Once Tyler has calmed completely, he gently pries him from his chest.

"Head up to the nursery, sweet pup. I'll be there soon for your nap." Tyler hasn't dropped yet, but clearly needs to. It's even more evident by how his son nods. "Off you go."

Tyler glares at Marcel one last time before disappearing from the room. Klaus straightens his shoulders. His gaze returns to his eldest. Disappointment fills his body.

"Marcellus Gerard Mikaelson," Klaus declares. "You know how sensitive your brother is to being compared to a dog."

"It's just a joke, Papa."

"No, a joke is when two people laugh together. When only one is laughing and the other is upset, that is bullying."

Marcel rolls his eyes. "He's too sensitive."

Klaus purses his lips. "I seem to remember a certain little boy who was very sensitive to people making jokes about his weight when he was younger." Marcel ducks his head. Finally, Klaus sees some recognition in his eyes. "Exactly."

He steps forward.

"You are the eldest, young man. 'Tis up to you to set an example. Not do all this." Klaus gestures to the table. "As it is, it took months to get Tyler to not whine when I put the harness on him. Now, you've made him feel self conscious of not just that, but his wolf form too. I am very disappointed in you. I'd expect this from the little ones but not my big boy."

"Don't call me that!" Marcel snaps. "It makes me sound like I'm 5."

"Well, that's how you're acting right now. You're going to spend some time in the corner. Then, you shall pen an apology letter to Tyler and read it when he wakes up."

Marcel narrows his eyes. "No."

Klaus' mouth drops open. He hasn't seen this much defiance in Marcel in quite a number of years. What has gotten into him?

"I will give you to the count of 5 or I shall carry you. 1…" Marcel remains still. "2…3…Is this really what you want?"

"I thought you were counting."

"That's it."

Klaus grabs Marcel by the ear and drags him out of the kitchen. His son kicks and tries to punch him. Klaus quickly moves him and smacks his bottom three times. Marcel grumbles.

"You are being very naughty, young man." Klaus faces him to the wall. "You shall stay right here and think about your actions. Remember your age and your status in this family. When I return, I expect an attitude adjustment or you can spend the rest of the day in your room. Do I make myself clear?" Marcel doesn't respond. "I said, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," Marcel mutters. Klaus pops his bottom. "Ah, fine! Yes, sir."

"Thank you."

Klaus disappears from the room. He hopes that when he returns, his real son will be standing in the corner.

Klaus has never looked forward to a sleepover more. It is so rare that he allows them. But two friends of Tyler and Jeremy's are brothers around their ages. The friends have birthdays within days of each other, so their mom is throwing them a joint party. Tyler and Jeremy begged to go. After weeks of debating, Klaus relented. Of course, he sent both binders along with them.

It will be nice to have a small break from having a full house. He can finally get some work done. Especially as Marcel has barely left his room in 2 days.

After the timeout, Marcel hadn't changed his tune. It took another 10 minutes for him to agree to write the letter. Then it took 3 attempts because for some reason, he thought it was acceptable to write "I'm sorry you can't take a joke". It ended with a half-hearted apology and Marcel staying in his room the rest of the day. Klaus even brought dinner to his room. He had an early bedtime, in which Marcel fought every step of the way.

The following day, Klaus told Marcel he could leave his room, but the boy refused. He only came down for dinner because Klaus threatened early bedtime yet again. Outside that, he didn't talk to his brothers. He didn't even want to take his nightly blood.

Klaus hasn't seen this side of his son in over a century and a half. Sure, he has his moments of moodiness, but it usually goes away. Marcel is his good boy. He wants to do well. Prove to his papa that he can handle these adult responsibilities.

At first, Klaus thought maybe he needed to drop. All his attempts were rebuffed. Klaus is at a loss. He's nervous to rock the boat and upset him further. The last time he tried to pry too hard, Marcel threatened to leave and never come back. Klaus will give him his space.

He's halfway through some paperwork when he hears a crash upstairs. Klaus follows the noises all the way up to his studio. There he finds two of his easels on the floor. One of them is broken in half. A painting on the third has a knife stuck through it. Marcel stands there, arms folded over his chest and smiling proudly.

Klaus' jaw clenches. "Marcellus, tell me this was an accident."

"It was an accident."

"Marcellus!"

"What? I'm saying what you told me to do."

"What the bloody hell has gotten into you?!" Klaus snaps. Marcel shrinks back just a little, but somehow keeps the smirk. "You know better than to come up here and destroy my property. You also know how much these easels cost!"

"We have the money."

"That is not the point, young man! We do not destroy what isn't ours!"

He looks at the painting, sadness creeping up. Weeks spent on the sketches alone. He wanted to get the landscape just right. It was Rebekah's favorite spot when they were kids. Back before Mystic Falls was all built up. Klaus created it from memory, with plans to mail it to her for her birthday.

"You know how hard I've been working on that piece," he adds quietly. "It was a present for your aunt. I doubt I'll be able to remake it in time."

Marcel shrugs. "So get her a necklace or a bracelet or whatever you usually do."

Klaus shakes his head. He truly has no words. If it weren't for the fact that he flinched when he snapped at him, Klaus would wonder if he turned off his humanity. How can his son destroy all of this and not care a bit?

"You're going in timeout."

"No!"

"Yes, you are." Klaus takes a step forward and goes to grab his arm.

Marcel pushes him away. "Get your fucking hands off me!"

Klaus gets a good grip on his son's arms and drags him out of the studio. Much to his surprise, Marcel doesn't struggle. Klaus brings him into the en-suite bathroom in the boy's bedroom. He digs through the messy lower cabinet and retrieves a new bar of soap. Marcel takes a step backwards.

"Papa…"

"You've had quite the mouth on you lately."

"No, Papa, come on…"

"I am going to wash the sass right out of you, then I'm going to warm up that behind. I've tried being nice. I've tried timeouts, but clearly you need more than that."

Her runs the soap under the water. Once it's nice and sudsy, he turns back to his son.

"Open," he commands. Not enough to compel, but firm enough for Marcel to comply on his own.

Klaus scrubs the soap against his tongue. Marcel squirms and whines. Klaus makes sure not one inch is missed. Finally, he instructs his son to bite down. The stubbornness from Marcel's face has melted. His eyes are wide. A hint of guilt slips through. Klaus finds some relief, but he hates that it had to come so far.

After a few minutes, Klaus removes the soap. Marcel goes to wash it out, but Klaus shakes his head.

"You're going to feel that for a bit."

"But it's disgusting!" Marcel argues, rubbing at the tip of his tongue.

"Maybe that will remind you about how we talk in this house. With respect and absolutely no naughty words. Now, come on. This is the least of your concerns."

Marcel trials along after him to the bedroom.

"Jeans and briefs down," Klaus instructs.

Much to his surprise, Marcel doesn't argue. Both are at his ankles in a matter of seconds. He's all too willing to lay across his papa's knee.

"Why am I about to spank you?"

"Because I've been naughty."

"How so?"

"I've had an attitude…and swore. Plus, I bullied Tyler and destroyed your studio."

"Are you ready to tell me why you did that?"

Marcel is quiet. Klaus clicks his tongue.

"Fine. Then we'll get right to it."

Klaus lays down the first smack against his sit spot. He then goes about paddling up and down each of his chubby cheeks. They start off soft but quickly grow.

SMACK

SMACK

SMACK

SMACK

Marcel kicks his legs, earning him some swats on his thighs. Then, his hands fly back and cover his bottom. Klaus shakes his head in disbelief as he redirects the wrists to the small of his son's back.

"You know better than that," Klaus lectures, resuming paddling his hands against his behind. Marcel whines. "This isn't your first spanking. Act like the young man I know you are!"

Marcel cries out far sooner than Klaus has expected. He's nowhere near full strength yet. This is the speed he usually reserves for Jeremy, given his lack of supernatural healing. There's no way the pain is lasting that long.

In spite of his confusion, Klaus continues the spanking. He makes sure the sit spot gets its due.

The

"You are not going to run around this house with your arms folded over your chest and sassing everyone," Klaus lectures. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "And you certainly do not destroy property!"

"Ahhh! Owwwie! I'm sorry, Papa!"

"I certainly hope so. I am very disappointed in you, Marcellus."

The tears fall onto the bed. Marcel kicks his legs more and whines furiously as Klaus takes care of his thighs. The spanking continues longer than the original hybrid planned, given how much Marcel squirms and thrashes about. Even Tyler and Jeremy were not this wiggly their first go-round. And this is hardly even in the top 10 worst spankings his son has received.

Finally, Klaus relents. "All done," he declares. Marcel continues to cry and pound his fists against the bed. "Let's get you in the corner."

"W…what?"

"You've been very naughty. I think we need the trifecta to get through to you."

Marcel slowly sits up so he's on his papa's knee. He bounces a bit, whining as he holds his red bottom.

"Ouchie! No! I don't want a timeout!"

"I know you don't, but you need one."

"No!"

Marcel breaks down sobbing. Klaus' demeanor melts. He has never seen Marcel so distraught over a spanking.

"Please don't put me in the corner," Marcel begs. "Please, Papa! I just want cuddles! Please! Please!"

Desperation leaks from Marcel's voice. Klaus pulls him against his chest. He hooks one arm beneath his knees and the other around his shoulders to cradle him. Klaus gently rocks his sobbing boy. A mixture of confusion and sadness overtakes him as Marcel wails.

"Shhh," Klaus coos. "I'm here. Papa's here. I've got you."

He continues to rock his son. Marcel clings to his shirt as though his life depended on it. Klaus is the anchor in the storm of whatever is hurting this boy. It must be far more than the spanking.

Klaus nuzzles his cheek against the wailing young man's. Marcel's tears fall onto it.

"P…please don't put me down," Marcel makes out through sobs.

"I won't, I won't. I'm right here."

It takes a good 20 minutes for Marcel to settle. Once he does, little hiccups escapes his lips. His face is a mess of tears and mucus. Klaus grabs some tissues from the nightstand and attends to his face.

"There, there," Klays coos. "Isn't that better?"

Marcel sniffles and nods. Klaus can see he hasn't dropped. Not yet. Still, he's not letting go of his papa.

"Marcel," Klaus whispers. "What is all this about? What has you so upset? Is it the spanking?"

Marcel shakes his head. "No."

"Is it because I spoke harshly?"

"Nuh uh."

"What has come over you, sweetheart?"

Marcel's lips quiver. "Wanted you to hold me. I don't…I don't want to be alone. I don't want to be in a corner by myself. Or in my room all day. I just…I wanted you."

Klaus listens carefully to the words. This extends well past today.

"You wanted my attention?" Marcel nods. "You've wanted it for awhile now, haven't you?" Another nod. "Why didn't you just ask for me to spend time with you?"

"I'm supposed to be the oldest," Marcel whispers. "I'm supposed to not need you as much." Klaus' mouth drops open but his son doesn't give him a chance to speak. "Jer and Tyler are the babies. I'm supposed to be the big boy, like you said. But it…it's really hard. Sometimes…" He trails off.

"No, no. You're doing so good, little warrior. Tell me. Sometimes what?"

Marcel takes a deep breath. "Sometimes I miss being your only child. I miss being the baby. I miss not having to be the big boy. I just…I wanted you to hold me and rock me. But I didn't know how to ask. Because I'm supposed to be big. Even when I'm little. And I knew the only way I could get cuddles was to be naughty."

Klaus' heart crashes into his chest. How in the world did he miss all the signs? Marcel never acted up this much. How did he not notice the cry for help?

"Oh, my sweet baby," Klaus coos. "I am so sorry. I put a lot of focus on you being a big boy, huh?" Marcel nods. "I don't mean to. It's just that you seem so independent and bigger than your brothers. You always get so upset when I baby you."

"I do, usually. But lately…I've wanted it."

"But you didn't think you could ask because you're the big brother," Klaus whispers.

"Yeah."

"I am so sorry," he repeats. "I messed up big time. I tried to give you your space. But in the meantime, I forgot what's most important. Watching the signs. You needed me and I just kept shoving you in timeout."

"I didn't talk," Marcel meekly argues.

"No, but I didn't try very hard. Oh, baby boy."

Klaus resumes rocking him. He kisses his nose.

"No more making such a fuss over you being a big boy, I promise. You can be a baby."

"Jeremy and Tyler are babies."

"And you're my baby too. My first baby. That makes you so special!"

"Most of the time I want to be big. I like being the older brother and taking care of Jeremy and Tyler."

"But sometimes you need a little baby time?" Marcel nods. "We can arrange that. I have an idea. How about every other week, I find a way to get your brothers out of the house. Shouldn't be too hard. It'll just be us. You can have your baby time."

"You don't have to…"

"Yes, I do. And if you ever feel like you need it in between, just tell me."

"You have to take care of the babies."

"You're my baby too. They can see you be as little as they are."

Marcel hesitates. Klaus caresses his cheek.

"How about we start with our one on one baby time, hm? We can work up to the rest."

"Okay, Papa. But only if you're sure."

"I am. But Little Warrior? This will only work if you speak to me, okay? There are other ways to get my attention that won't land you over my knee."

Marcel blushes a bit. "I know. I'll apologize to Tyler; for real. And I'll clean up the mess in the studio. I can pay for a new easel."

"I appreciate that."

"I'm sorry I ruined Aunite Bex's picture. Maybe I could help you remake it? I know I'm not an artist like Jeremy, but I can try?"

Klaus smiles. "You can be my assistant," he offers. "Help me mix the colors, just as I taught you. It can be some one on one time, even when you're feeling big."

"What about the boys?"

"I can split my time evenly. It's what a papa does."

Klaus pats his sore bottom. Marcel whimpers a bit.

"Still tasting the soap?"

Marcel nods. "It's yucky."

"It'll go away soon. How about Papa gets you changed? Then we'll snuggle up."

"No timeout?"

"No timeout, this go round. I think you've been punished enough. By me and yourself."

Klaus works off the boy's jeans and boxers, allowing them to fall to the floor. He keeps Marcel in that cradle position and brings him to the nursery. His eldest whines when his bottom hits the soft fabric on the changing table. Klaus puts up the bars he installed a few months back. Tyler is very wiggly when he's changed and fell off once. Klaus won't take the same risk here.

He has to search a bit to find young pajamas. A lot of Marcel's clothes are for older kids. Finally, he comes across one of the footed sleepers he bought that his son once brushed off as babyish. They're bright blue and covered in small print that says "papa's baby" in a bunch of different languages. He also grabs one of the diapers he uses for Tyler's rare baby time.

Klaus walks back over. Marcel is looking up at the mobile above him. Klaus lathers him up in lotion before applying baby powder to his bottom. He slides the diaper on next. Marcel looks down at it curiously.

"May be a tad tight. I'll buy you your own," Klaus promises. "I know you can't use it, but it'll be comfy on that sore bumbum."

Marcel nods. Klaus tapes on the diaper. He then maneuvers his son into the pajamas. Klaus scoops him back up and pats his back. He makes sure his son gets Mr. Frog.

"You want to stay in here or go to Papa's bed?"

Marcel rests his head on his shoulder. "Papa."

"As you wish."

Klaus brings him down the hall. He lays on the bed and cuddles Marcel close.

"What do we do if we want Papa?"

Marcel sighs. "Tell you."

"Very good. I'll also be better at looking for the signs," he promises.

"Love you, Papa."

"I love you too, my little warrior." Klaus strokes his cheek. "And I'm always proud of you. You're always a great brother too. No matter how big or small you are."

"I was mean to Ty," Marcel mumbles.

"You'll apologize."

"Hates me."

Klaus shakes his head. "He'll forgive you." A flicker of doubt crosses Marcel's eyes. "Take it from someone who hurt his siblings' feelings a lot. If you apologize and mean it, they'll forgive you."

Marcel nods, though Klaus still sees the doubt. He sighs and snuggles him closer.

"What story would you like?" Marcel shrugs. "How about the one about the arrogant king who thought he had everything he ever wanted. But then he met his little warrior prince?"

Marcel finally smiles a little and nods. Klaus grins.

"Well, it all started one autumn day. The king and his siblings were on their way home from the governor's son's funeral. Along the way, he spotted a little boy…"

"Warrior," Marcel softly corrects.

Klaus chuckles. "A little warrior, yes. He had faced much adversity. But he wouldn't take it lying down. Instead, he stood up for himself and threw an apple at the cruel man who hurt him. The king knew in that moment that was his missing piece. His lost little warrior prince. So, he saved him. For while the little warrior was brave and strong, even the strongest and bravest need someone to love and take care of him."

Marcel puts his fingers in his mouth. Klaus caresses his neck.

"The king defeated the cruel, evil man. He introduced himself to the little warrior. When asked his name, the little warrior said he did not have one. The king thought long and hard. He thought of the Roman deity Mars, a brave warrior. And so he named the little warrior…"

"Marcellus."

"That's right, clever boy." Klaus taps his nose. "The king scooped his little warrior prince up and carried him all the way home…"

Klaus continues the story. He doesn't even reach the part where the prince discovered the king's powers before Marcel is fast asleep.

I often talk about showing Klaus, Kol and Damon's other sides. I feel this is a side of Marcel that I haven't in this story. When he feels slighted, neglected or jealous, he tends to act out. He spent so long rejecting Klaus babying him, he doesn't know how to ask for it. He may not be a blood Mikaelson, but he certainly inherited Klaus' coping mechanism.

Also, while Marcel will always be the oldest and loves his role, independence, etc, there are times he needs to just be papa's baby. Won't happen often, but just every once in awhile.

As always, feel free to leave prompts or ask me questions! I am on Tumblr and love communicating on there, as well as in the comments!