Devil's Angel ° {K.M}[Rewriting]

{059}

America Gothic
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"She wouldn't know what to do if she lost her. Losing her would be like losing a piece of her heart, her soul."
—Original
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-

Two days was all it took for her sanity to run thin. Before it all crumbled, the first and only warning had been an odd shift in the atmosphere, one America attributed to the changes she had been experiencing lately but she had been wrong. A dismissal that saw every werewolf, part or whole, getting violently sick after breakfast. It hit the hybrids the earliest and passed through her and Klaus the fastest but their youngest suffered the most, her human half putting up no resistance against the magic-induced virus.

A virus Silas had inflicted on them, infusing a mixture of wolfsbane and magic into everything edible. America—more familiar with nausea and fatigue than she'd like to me—didn't find any alarm in feeling under the weather but when Klaus had woken up in a sweat, feverish, the man had been startled, panicked beyond belief and that was all they had to prepare them for the frantic knocks on their door, Chris coughingly violently outside. Silas wasn't an immediate culprit though it was obvious there was a witch involved.

Past day one, Klaus and her barely felt remnants of the sickness but the hybrids were getting fevers and rashes, and had dry coughs and sore throats but they were doing better than Rosie. For as the others got better, she grew worse, the virus taking a bigger toll on her smaller, more fragile body. The bracelet the young wolf had been gifted was the only reason she managed each raspy breath rather than succumbing to the illness. Now here they were in the early morning of the second day, barely past midnight with Rosie submerged in a tub of lukewarm water.

The girl was barely conscious, drifting in and out but she was there, blinking bleary, green eyes at her when she could manage the strength to move her head. The smell of infection clung to her like a caustic scent, burning America's nose with every inhale but Klaus reassured her that, having the smell of someone truly on the brink of death ingrained in his senses, Rosie would be alright. In fact, he was adamant she was gradually getting better despite her symptoms getting worse. . . but his comforts stemmed from pure stubbornness because even he didn't entirely believe his own words. 

"I should've known," she murmured, folding a damp rag across Rosie's forehead, lips tugging into a frown, "when she said she felt funny, after what Silas said. . . I should've checked." The suffering of her family was her fault, a preventable incident if she had done what was necessary. She should've killed Silas despite the damn consequences. Should've drained his life and locked him away once more for another few millennia from a place no one but herself could access. Klaus sighed softly, pushing himself off the doorframe to join her where she knelt by the porcelain tub.

He positioned himself so he could pull her back to lean into him, wrapping his arms tightly around her. Though the man couldn't see her, he felt her distress and could hear in her voice that the tears had begun to fall. "I'm gonna kill him." Klaus silently agreed with the declarance, more than inclined to see the immortal's end after what he'd done. "I take it back—what I said about that cure. I'm going to get it and shove it down his throat." She sniffled, inhaling deeply as her body trembled with her rising anger and worry, "And till then, I'm going to kill him. Over and over and over again." 

Klaus huffed quietly, resting a hand on the back of her head, "he will retaliate, love. This home. . ." She leaned further into him, shifting so she could bury her face in his chest, trusting the man to keep an eye on Rosie. "I'll make it safe. Make it the safest place anyone can be. I'll put up every boundary spell there is—anything I have to do to make sure no one here ever gets hurt again. He'll suffer if he ever steps foot in this house again." Him and anyone like him. Anyone else who stepped onto their property with the intent to hurt.