Splitting Our Odds Into Evens

Against Nature

It didn't take long for the courtyard to become crowded with open grimoires, loose sheets of paper and half-finished glasses of water that no one seemed interested in drinking.

Bonnie and Davina had taken over the large table while Freya moved between them and the shelves upstairs, searching through anything that might contain information about immortality spells. After nearly twenty minutes of listening to words like binding, balance and sacrificial magic, Kol decided he'd heard enough.

He slipped into the sitting room and poured himself a drink.

"Is that really wise?"

Kol didn't bother turning around. "I'm dying, Elijah. I think I've earned a bourbon."

"You've hardly eaten today."

"And yet somehow, I remain capable of lifting a glass."

Elijah sighed behind him.

Kol took a sip and finally turned around, only to find that Elijah wasn't alone. Klaus stood near the fireplace with his arms crossed, Rebekah beside him.

Kol looked between the three of them. "Oh, good. An intervention."

"Sit down," Rebekah said.

"I'd rather stand."

"Considering you collapsed less than an hour ago, I wasn't asking."

Kol rolled his eyes, but he lowered himself onto the couch anyway. "Happy?"

"No."

That wiped the amusement from his face.

Rebekah stared at him for a moment before asking, "Were you ever going to tell us?"

Kol looked down at his glass. He'd already answered that question once today. "Yes, Bekah."

"When? Today? Because you're a tad late, lad," Rebekah spat.

Kol sighed. "I wasn't exactly eager to announce it over Sunday dinner."

Klaus scoffed. "Yes, far better to quietly deteriorate until your niece finds you unconscious and bleeding on the kitchen floor."

Kol snorted. "I didn't plan that particular part."

He took another sip of bourbon.

Rebekah looked away, blinking rapidly. Klaus's jaw tightened, but surprisingly, he said nothing.

Kol noticed their expressions and immediately became uncomfortable. "Oh, come on. Don't do that."

"Do what?" Rebekah asked.

"Look at me as though I'm already in a coffin."

"You've known you were dying for weeks and weren't even certain you'd tell us. How exactly would you like me to look at you?"

Kol leaned back against the couch. "You've lost me before."

The words came out more casually than he'd intended.

Rebekah went still. "So?"

Kol frowned. "So, you've survived it."

Rebekah stared at him in disbelief. "You think because I've mourned you before, it gets easier?"

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

Kol looked away.

Rebekah moved closer. "I watched you die, Kol. I watched this family continue without you because we had no other choice. Do you really think I want to do it again?"