Nothing Dark Can Stay, Either

Chapter 12

Beatrix had been about to levitate Elijah when Klaus ran in.

There was a brief moment when all she and her sire could do was stare at each other. Then, his eyes widened, and he stepped back, pointing at her. "No," he said, his voice shaking. "Esther— that's quite enough— I've had enough of your games and your lies!"

"Klaus," Beatrix said gently. "Klaus— it's not an illusion. It's me!"

"No!" he said. "Let— let him go— you promised me Elijah's safe return." He turned around, as if speaking to someone that Beatrix couldn't see. "Or, was that a lie, just like that ghoulish atrocity outside claiming to be my father, back from the dead? Now this? Now her?"

An older woman (who definitely did not look like the Esther Mikaelson that Beatrix had seen in Elijah's memories) stepped into the lycée, smiling at Klaus, and nodding to Beatrix. "My son," she said. "Your father's return is real. I pulled him from the Other Side before it collapsed, left him in the Bayou to join the wolves. And, I used the execution of one of his own to draw him here, where I knew he'd find you."

"To what end?" snarled Klaus. "Besides my torment?"

"I brought him here to be the father you never had," the woman said softly. "To teach you to be the man you always longed to be. Once you are remade as a werewolf, you can join him."

"His return changes nothing!" spat Klaus as he stormed toward the woman.

"It changes everything," she insisted. "It is my gift to you, Niklaus. This offer is your last chance at salvation. Reject me now, and you will live out your endless days unloved and alone. Do not refuse me out of some ancient spite—"

"Not spite! Hatred. A pure and perfect hatred that's greater now than the day I first took your life!"

The woman glared between her son and Beatrix, as if expecting the Heretic to say something. "Why, after all I've done to explain to you, why must you persist—"

Klaus lunged forward and seized the woman in a choke hold, slamming her head back against the stone wall. "BECAUSE YOU CAME FOR MY CHILD!" he roared. "MY DAUGHTER! YOUR OWN BLOOD!"

"You— don't— understand," wheezed the woman.

"MY CHILD!"

"N-Niklaus— I— had to!" She lifted two fingers, making Klaus grunt as his nose started to bleed. Beatrix stood and wove her own fingers, eliciting a cry from the woman as her fingers cracked, and her hand dropped to the side. Klaus didn't dare look at the Heretic, rather, he gripped the woman's throat harder, and she whimpered in pain.

"You declared war when you came after my family," he sneered in her face. "And, for that, I will make you suffer as only I can." He smirked, glaring down at her. "After all, I am my mother's son."

He dropped her harshly, and went over to Elijah, picking him up and refusing still to look at Beatrix, carrying his brother out of the building.

"Klaus," she said, following closely behind. "Klaus— I'm not an illusion. I'm really here!"

"You died in the Opera House," he spat. "Marcel was conscious but you were not. He never— never mentioned you getting out!"

"I'll explain, I promise, Klaus," she said desperately. "Just let me—"

He let Elijah's body fall, and sped toward her, gripping her throat instead and holding her in the air. She choked and squirmed in his grasp, kicking her legs desperately. "P-Please— please—"

"You are not Beatrix La Salle," he said in a deadly whisper. "Beatrix is dead."

"I'm not— not—" she gasped, feeling her eyes pool with tears. She managed to grasp onto Klaus's arm, siphoning in an attempt to weaken his hold.