The Originals: Rewritten

Ch.23: Rebirth

It was a beautiful day in New Orleans, as Klaus furiously tried to stretch a canvas over a wooden frame for a painting. When he tore through the canvas though, he angrily threw it all across the room, just as Elijah returned from the meeting with those that had been trying to sell some original buildings of New Orleans. Klaus was overwhelmed with frustration, yelling at the top of his lungs. 

Elijah picked up the canvas Klaus threw, examining it, as he said, "I suppose we shall have to call this your white period."

Klaus angrily replied, saying, "I'm missing a crucial color in my palette--that of my enemies' blood."

"Well, I recommend a Venetian red, with a dash of rust...," Elijah joked, causing Klaus to lost his temper.

"It's been months! I've adhered to our plan: sit and do nothing, sell our grief. And now, my child is safely away, and another full moon is upon us--another night of pathetic weakness as the moonlight rings steal my strength!"

Elijah gave Klaus a sympathetic look. Then Klaus calmed down slightly, though he was still upset. 

"The inertia is killing me. I need to act. I-I-I need--I need to spill blood."

"Well, then, you'll be pleased to know that I've located the last of the twelve rings forged with your blood."

Klaus perked up slightly at that, and said, "Then, it's time!"

"And none too soon. I'm concerned about Katerina."

Klaus tensed up and then started sorting through his art, turning away from Elijah, as he replied, saying, "She looks well enough."

"She looks no better than you, brother. Now, if the two of you would treat each other as more than just...frenemies--"

"She has you," Klaus interrupted. 

"Sadly, like the father of her child, she prefers to fight her demons alone," Elijah reminded him. It didn't matter if she was a vampire or a human. She didn't like having help with personal problems. Sometimes, she didn't want any help whatever it was. She'd rather face everything alone, rather than ask for help. 

A human Katherine was roaming through the bayou around the former werewolf encampments, but stopped in her tracks, seeing a burnt and melted baby doll that had been damaged in the bombings, back when she'd still been pregnant. Though it hurt, reminding her of Hope that she'd had to send away with Rebekah, she kept her composure. She looked like she was alone, but this was the bayou. Werewolves lived here. They could be watching her and being human, she wouldn't even know. She wasn't going to cry in front of anyone. Not even werewolves. Sure, Hope was alive, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt her. Her father had sent her first born away. Now, she'd had to send away her second born. She hated this, as well as hated the feeling it gave her, but being human, she couldn't help her feelings. And despite the pain, it was refreshing. After all, she'd spent a lot of time as a vampire, not letting herself feeling anything. 

Marcel and Cami were at Marcel's loft, Marcel and Cami making love in his bed. Then, afterward, Marcel poured himself a drink downstairs and stared out the window that looked out over the river. Cami, who had just redressed, joined him downstairs on her way out. 

"What's the hurry?" Marcel asked her. 

"I have to get back to campus," she replied, before grabbing her bag off a chair. She then walked towards him and told him, "I have to meet my new adviser. Apparently, the one I was supposed to have dropped dead. Guy did triathlons, yet couldn't climb a flight of stairs."