WARNINGS: depression, mentions of suicide and self harm
- Suicide Prevention Hotline: 988
- Suicide.org
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.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
You sit on the balcony, overlooking the thriving streets of New Orleans. Street bands jazz, locals sneak into the hole in the walls, tourists follow the witches around, soaking up the over-exaggerated tales of victory and loss.
You've been sitting up here for hours. You don't want to confront your family. Especially Klaus. You didn't think anyone was at the compound. Rebekah is usually out nagging Marcel, Klaus looking for trouble and Elijah cleaning up his mess and playing peace patrol, and Kol wreaking havoc, But there they were, hatching a plan to keep you safe from whatever force of evil decided it wants your power this week.
You're a rare type of human. Actually, human isn't the right word. You don't exactly know what you are. All you know is that you have sensory manipulation. You can numb people's emotions. You're not a vampire. You're not a witch. You're a human. And many syphons are after you because they can absorb your power.
As they turned to look at you, they noticed the scars on your arms, trailing from your wrists and up your forearms. You didn't know what to do other than to run and hide.
So, that brings you to now, sitting on the balcony. You feel a gust of wind and a presence behind you. You don't even need to turn around to know who it is. You stay silent, overlooking the bustling streets.
"You've been ignoring me, love," Klaus states, standing next to you. You focus on the street corner jazz band.
"You know why," you respond monotonously. He sighs and attempts to wrap an arm over your shoulder but you move away. Hurt flashes in his eyes and guilt consumes you all over again.
"Talk to me," he pleads quietly. You walk back through the French doors and sit on your bed, gesturing Klaus to join you. He does, perching on the edge of the bed. You avoid his eyes while trying to organize your thoughts. Finally, you speak.
"As you're very aware, I can numb people's emotions. But what you don't know is that when I do so, I absorb most of their emotions." You risk a glance at Klaus and, as you expected, his face is full of surprise.
"Why did you tell us? Me? How have I not known?" You run a hand through your hair and let it fall back into your lap.
"Because I know you'd worry. It would distract you from the Hollow. And we can't afford that, you know. I don't know how I've managed to keep this a secret all these years, but I figure it's time to come clean."
"So, because you absorb people's emotions..." he trails off, gesturing to your scars. You nod, confirming his suspicions.
"My mom committed suicide when I was around fifteen. I didn't know I could help at the time. But once I found out what I could do, I swore I would never let anyone I care about do this to themselves. Even people on the streets who I could tell were on the brink. I'd help them. Absorbing so much pain and sadness buried me into a pit. I couldn't handle all of the grief and desperation I picked up to help people. So I started self harming. I became suicidal.
"I tried to kill myself multiple times, but it never worked. Finally, I learned to live with it. I tried to cope. I still try everyday. I have thoughts, still, although not as frequent." You shake your head and laugh humorlessly.
"What?" Klaus asks, still trying to make sense of what you're telling him.
"You know what though? It's only part of myself I want to kill. The part that wants to kill herself, that dragged me into the suicide debate and makes every window, kitchen implement, and car ride a rehearsal for tragedy." Before you could even let the tears escape, Klaus is kneeling in front of you, his hands resting over yours.
"Look at me. Please," he pleads. You reluctantly look into his eyes and are taken aback at the tears welling in them. "You don't have to do this alone anymore. You have us. You're a Mikaelson, love. You're Mrs. Niklaus Mikaelson and I won't let anyone hurt you. Not even yourself. I promise you." You let the tears fall and Klaus gathers you in his arms, saying nothing, just holding you.
"I'm so sorry," you sob.
"I've got you, love. Always and forever."
And in that moment, you knew you were going to be okay. Maybe not now. Maybe not for many years. But you knew that eventually, you'd be okay.
