Lights Flicker And Fade : Kol Mikaelson [3]

268: The Bloody Crown

26th MARCH 2014, 14:32 P.M.
THE ABATTOIR

Kol only let himself travel outside The Compound, taking a deep breath and forcing his brain to reset. He'd always loved the theatre, but he hadn't had to put on such a show in a long time. When people called out the obvious, he usually just confirmed it.

Blatant lying was boring.

But this wasn't that.

Why would he 'take' the serum? Taking it implied using it on himself, and he wasn't going to do that – and, how could you take something that technically belonged to you? The serum had come from MJ. As her partner, it was only his to claim –

"What the hell are you doing here?" Marcel arrived, exactly as predicted, Kol letting himself smile before turning to face him, "You actually caved to them calling you?"

"I got a new phone," Kol countered, "I had no idea they'd been trying to find me – you, however?"

He used one finger to gesture up and down.

"Clearly did. Meaning, you're trying to lecture me on returning while also appearing to lick the heel of my brothers," He laughed, "I always knew you didn't have it in you."

Marcel's stomach flipped. He'd grown to like Kol. No. He'd grown to accept Kol as a thing in his life. And now?

"They thought you'd make such a brilliant immortal," Kol waged his finger, "But all you've done with it is run around serving others, exactly as you did before."

Marcel officially saw red.

"It's almost clever," Kol leered, "If not incredibly screwed up."

How the hell had Marcel grown to accept this guy?

"You were trained to be your real father's servant, and you hated him for it," Kol let his words sound dry, "Failing to realise that while Klaus and Elijah may have given you shinier clothes, and fancier books, they were still enforcing that role."

Marcel went to punch him, only for Kol to catch the fist.

"Oh," Kol squeezed tighter, cracking bone, "Have I touched a nerve?"

Enjoying how he struggled to pull back, only to find himself stuck in The Original's hold.

"You were never really a Mikaelson."

The second fist actually managed to hit Kol's jaw, freeing his half-broken first hand, Kol's head staying to the side, staring at the street.

"You're not."

Marcel shook his head, glaring into the street.

"They never would've let you," He rephrased, "Because that would have made you an equal."

Slowly, their eyes met.

"Have you not noticed that they phrase things to trick you into thinking you're one, only to cut you off from every opportunity that might actually allow it?"

Marcel's breathing picked up.

"Then again, for all of my families faults, we are anything but passive – "

"So what's the plan then," Marcel scoffed, "The big Kol Mikaelson master scheme to burn the universe down!"

"The only thing I care about is ensuring Mira's swift return to us," He listed easily, "She put her trust in me, and I will not let her down."

Marcel had changed out of his mourning clothes, back into jeans, a white shirt, and a brown leather jacket. Needing to pretend he wasn't at a funeral. Needing to act like the child he'd promised to keep safe hadn't died so brutally.