Chapter Text
Chapter Four
Elena was left reeling as she watched Klaus abruptly leave. She could hardly believe the situation she was trapped in. Left alone with a volatile mafia hitman seemed like a path that inevitably ended in her death. She tried the door, but it came as no surprise that he had locked it behind him. She didn’t bother trying the large wall of floor to ceiling windows. Even if she managed to break the glass, she was clearly in the penthouse and would do nothing but fall to her death if she jumped. And while she was looking for an escape, Elena didn’t plan on death being the route she took. She cursed him silently as she stalked back to her bed, bagging up her bloody clothes and badge, though she kept the papers on her body. Sooner or later Klaus would come looking for those documents and when he did, Elena swore that she would be ready. Whatever he and his family wanted with them, it would no doubt leave innocent lives in carnage.
“Fucking smarmy, smug-faced, arrogant asshole,” she muttered under her breath as she leaned back against the pillows, letting her body finally relax as much as she could. She wanted to break something but clearly this room had been carefully set up so there would be nothing usable as a weapon or even as a projectile. She reconnected the IV tube and debated using the needle as a possible weapon, but even if she did manage to stab him once, it would easily become blunted and then she would be at the mercy of his temper. Elena wasn’t naïve enough to think that him saving her life meant she would be spared if she became a true thorn in his side.
All at once she felt exhausted, both emotionally and physically. She didn’t exactly feel safe but at the same time she was oddly reassured that he wouldn't try anything while she slept. As long as Klaus wanted her help, Elena knew that she had some level of protection. Even so, she was out of her depth with no way to contact the outside, no way to escape. Bonnie was going to lose her mind and along with thoughts of her best friend, Elena could only imagine how much missing her medication was going to fuck her up. She had no way out and no leverage other than the papers. Not unless she agreed to play his little game which had no guarantee of the outcome he wanted. As she was mulling things over, Elena had become very aware of feeling nauseous but seeing as she was trapped in the room had no way to solve the roiling of her gut other than emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet.
The hospital gown started riding up as she bent her legs and her knees rubbed lightly together in discomfort but her own stubbornness didn’t allow her to accept the clothing Klaus had put at the end of the bed. She wasn't going to fall for his fake charming demeanor, she decided as her thoughts grew hazy. She pulled the blankets up and buried her face in the luxuriously soft pillow. Elena didn’t even want to consider how much the sheets and pillows must have cost her captor, and no doubt had been paid for with blood money. She wasn't going to ask him for anything if she could help it. She already owed him, and that pissed her off. She had always been independent and having to depend suddenly on a person like Klaus made her blood boil with irrational rage. She wasn't going to give in to his charming, dimpled smirks or his low, curling tones in that stupidly attractive accent. What was it about that accent that made her knees slightly weak? First there was that career thief Lorenzo St. John, and now the sadistically smooth Klaus Mikaelson. She couldn’t help but wonder if she exuded some kind of Evil-British-Guy pheromones or something of that nature. Though to be fair, Enzo had actually had a motive for keeping her hostage; his weird obsession with her. Klaus claimed to have no motive, but the glinting malice behind his eyes said otherwise.
Slowly, Elena found herself drifting off to sleep. She was extremely warm and very comfortable all of a sudden as the exhaustion from standing for so long with her injuries set in. As her eyelids grew heavy and her limbs started to feel like they were full of wet sand, she swore she could hear her name being shouted, the sounds of primal satisfaction bouncing off the marble halls of the fashionably empty penthouse. An ache grew low between her legs and just as she let herself fall into the world of dreams, she squeezed her thighs together tightly, hoping to stave off the blooming heat.
**
Sunday, January 19th: 9:00am
Josette Laughlin came to check in on Elena the next day, though she had had some sharp words with Klaus over the phone prior to actually arriving. She didn’t like the way he often ordered her around as though she had nothing better to do with her day than serve his every little whim. She had to admit that she was extremely worried about the young woman’s condition not being monitored in a hospital, no matter how sterile Klaus had made his apartment. A graze on the liver was no small injury and would require a long time to heal.
Elena was sitting propped up in her bed, having finally changed into the sweats and sweatshirt Klaus had left her the night before, when the doctor came through the door. She wasn’t happy about caving on the clothing, but the hospital gown had been impossibly uncomfortable. As soon as she laid eyes on the doctor, Elena knew she worked for Klaus. Though she guessed that the phrase “worked for'' could also mean the doctor was under some sort of threat from him. She immediately knew that asking her for any help escaping would be moot. And no sooner had the thought of Klaus popped into her head, she found herself staring at him looming in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear, Elena thought.
Klaus leaned on the doorframe with a casual arrogance that clearly said he had every intention of staying regardless of any objections that might be stated. Josette, on her part, largely ignored him before she started to help Elena remove the sweatshirt, but just as the undersides of her breasts became visible, Elena violently tugged it back down. She let out a squawk of protest as Klaus didn’t even attempt to turn away.
"What the fuck?! Do you mind?!" Elena snarled. Josette gave Klaus a tired and flat expression, apparently used to his antics.
"You're making my job harder, Mister Mikaelson," Josette said in a feigned tone of disinterest, giving him an expectant raise her brows and a look that clearly said 'get the fuck out.' "If you don't trust me, feel free to call another physician you have in your pocket." Josette’s final words were said with a false sweetness, knowing Klaus would be too impatient to make the call.
Elena didn’t miss the man’s eye roll, but she was surprised when he actually listened. She didn’t think he was the type of person to listen to anyone. The door shut and Josette started helping her remove the hoodie again, noting the wince Elena gave when her arms were raised too high and the stitches got tugged in a painful manner. Josette was thorough in checking the wound sight and the other scrapes or bruises Elena had from her brush with death. And while Josette clearly saw the papers tucked into the waistband at her lower back, she knew better than to mention them.
"Any sharp pain when urinating or blood in your urine?" Josette asked her, making notations on her tablet which presumably had a digital file on Elena’s condition as well as other background information that she wasn’t privy to.
"No," came Elena’s short reply, not feeling like engaging much with anyone on Klaus’s side.
"It's healing nicely and it doesn’t look like it will scar too badly. Not much worse than your other bullet wound. Keep it clean, no peroxide. Wash your hands every time you change the bandage, before and after," Josette instructed in a calm and even tone.
"Copy that,” she replied blandly. Elena noticed how Josette glanced at her, quiet for a moment. It was as if she were sizing her up and trying to figure out what sort of person she was.
"You're in good shape," she noted, almost too casually. So casually, in fact, that Elena felt herself growing suspicious under the woman’s gaze.
"Federal Agent," Elena reminded her with a thin smile. Josette pursed her lips, catching onto the fact that Elena didn't trust her at all. The sympathetic smile Elena received told her that the older woman hadn’t taken offense to her lack of trust.
"Most cops I know are out of shape. They like to take it easy, which tells me you must really love your job. So much that you barely do anything else," she said. “Either that or you submerge yourself in your work so much to prevent thinking about the unpleasant things you have experienced in your life.” Elena jerked her head back, eyeing Josette unkindly.
"Are you a shrink or a doctor?" she scoffed, immediately defensive. Josette sighed and looked regretful in a heartbeat.
"Sorry, bad doctor habit. The file he gave me is...somewhat lacking, so to speak. Or rather he only gave me what he thought I needed to know to keep me from learning more about you. He's protective," Josette said, turning off the tablet.
"More like possessive. I'm just a means to an end, that's it," Elena said with certainty. "As soon as he gets what he wants, I'm disposable." Josette considered her for a moment, tilting her head slightly.
"Are you sexually active, Miss Gilbert? Do any yoga or meditation?" she asked. Elena looked at her, bewildered by the invasive questions.
"Seriously? I just met you and you think you have a right to ask me questions like that? How dare you presume to think you are entitled to such knowledge,” Elena snapped back. Josette shrugged her shoulders in a very 'Im-a-doctor-I-was-only-making-an-observation' way.
"You just seem very...tense. Your blood pressure was also a bit high. All the aforementioned activities help to reduce stress,” Josette replied calmly. “Are you often this stressed?" Elena gave her an exasperated look.
"I'm a federal agent in a city with two warring Mafias. I've been shot, nearly died, and now I'm being held hostage by a very dangerous man. I don't think my stitches will take too kindly to a downward facing dog, or the doggy position for that matter. I fail to see how my sex life is any of your business or relevant in any way,” Elena said forcefully, shutting down any other questions of the sort. Josette lifted her hands in surrender.
"Are there any medications you think you need? Headache? Nausea? Pain?" Josette continued on like a professional, as though she had never asked about anything intrusive.
Elena thought about her PTSD medication, but there was no way she was going to trust any pills anyone gave her. Josette was a doctor, but she was a doctor under Klaus’s thumb which meant she could easily report things to the man which would be unacceptable.
"Nope," she answered finally with another thin smile. Josette looked at her for a long minute before she decided to avoid getting into an argument she knew she wouldn’t win. The doctor stood and helped Elena put the sweatshirt back on before heading out, closing the door behind her to give a report to Klaus.
**
Klaus paced back and forth in an agitated manner. He hated being kept in the dark. Especially when it came to things that he considered to be his. He vaguely heard Elena correct Josette’s use of the word protective to possessive and he couldn’t help but smirk. She wasn’t wrong in her observation of his behavior, he had always had a tendency to guard what he considered to be his property very closely. He continued to pace around until Josette came out and threw him a scathing look.
"Not your typical pet," Josette remarked with clear judgment laced into her tone. Just as she was getting ready to unleash a tirade at Klaus, the elevator rang in the living room to reveal Freya stepping off with several bags full of what Klaus could only assume was clothing. Josette turned back to Klaus after the momentary distraction. "Her blood pressure is a bit high. Don't stress her out anymore than you already are, and she can't lift anything more than five pounds. She can shower as long as she has somewhere to sit and puts a waterproof bandage on. She can eat but only lightly. And for God's sake, give the girl some fresh air! It's a fucking dungeon in there." Klaus narrowed his eyes at the doctor. If there was one thing he hated more than anything else, it was being treated like he was nothing more than a stupid child.
“Remember, Josette, I’m what stands between you and your homicidal maniac of a brother looking to kill you. Take care to treat me with the gratitude I deserve or I may forget to continue hiding your location,” Klaus snarled under his breath as his sister headed towards them. He stepped away from the doctor and glowered at his sister who didn’t look too impressed at what she had just witnessed. He rolled his eyes hard, annoyed that Freya was going to take Josette’s side as usual. Freya raised her eyebrows, stepping between Klaus and Elena’s door.
“Absolutely not. You’re not locking her in there, Nik. And you’re not going to keep threatening Josette with Malachi. Let Elena be free to the extent of this penthouse. Keeping her cooped up isn’t going to lower her stress level. It’s going to make everything worse which could in fact cause shit to hit the fan for you,” Freya snapped. Klaus considered arguing the point but instead turned on his heel and stalked away to the kitchen. If they were going to withhold her condition from him and stop him from protecting her, then he was going to stop trying to be the good guy.
Once in the kitchen he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and pulled an array of fresh fruit from the fridge. Easily, and efficiently, he began to slice up grapes, strawberries, raspberries, and a melon. In a small bowl he spooned out a bit of cottage cheese and next to it a small container of yogurt, which overtop he waved a slow drizzle of honey. Moving to the other side of the island, Klaus removed the damp cloth from the bowl of dough that he had set out to rise overnight while he had been attempting to forget his little incident in the shower. Sprinkling some flour on the counter, Klaus dumped out the dough before wiping his hands on the cloth and tossing it over his shoulder. He ignored the puff of white that now lightly dusted his black shirt and smudged his cheek. His hands expertly kneaded the mixture before twisting the long rolls of dough into tight little bows and brushing them with a sugary butter glaze. Sliding them in the oven he twisted his wrist around and easily maneuvered a cast iron skillet onto the stove. He gave it a moment to warm before laying a few strips of bacon in the pan and waiting for them to sizzle to perfection.
**
Elena heard the argument just outside her door as she was swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Her door suddenly swung open, revealing a very pretty older blonde, her arms laden with shopping bags. Elena instinctively stiffened, even as Freya gave her a warm smile. She dropped the bags unceremoniously, closing the door behind her with a kick of her foot.
"Hello, my name is Freya. I didn't get a chance to introduce myself properly yesterday," she said, keeping her tone soft and gentle. She wanted to move forward to offer a handshake, but reconsidered the gesture.
"I know who you are. I've had enough Mikaelsons for one day," Elena snapped, but it was as if Freya refused to hear her over the crinkling of bags and tissue paper as she dumped the contents of her packages.
"Nik told me your sizes but I never trust a visual measurement," Freya said, opening up one of the blouses she'd gotten Elena and looked doubtful about the fit. Though she had heard what the woman had said, Elena was stuck on the fact that Klaus was able to do something like get someone’s measurements just by a visual assessment. Then to her horror, she remembered his gaze roving over her, scorching in its intensity and like a physical touch against her skin, lighting up her nerve endings. She felt a flush in her cheeks at the thought that he'd actually been taking her measurements under the flimsy hospital dress, highly embarrassed and annoyed at how it sent a tingle up her spine.
"Ugh, I can't believe he gave you his sweats. You must be baking. C'mon, I'll help you change,” Freya offered, opening the door to Elena’s private bathroom. Elena refused to follow, and they stared at each other for a long moment in a standoff.
"Look…" Freya began softly, looking sympathetic. "I know this situation isn't ideal, but...he did save..."
"Are you and Keelin really married?" Elena asked softly, cutting her off. She refused to think about what Klaus had done for her, and was now doing to her. Freya made a mental note to chew Klaus out later for talking about her marriage, but bit the inside of her cheek before sighing.
"Yes. Keelin and I got married three years ago. No one knows me as Freya Mikaelson, though. She tells everyone my name is Francesca Malraux, a fake identity we made to protect us both. My asshole of a father would kill her just for being a cop. As of right now he thinks she is a preschool teacher," Freya said, letting that information settle between them before continuing. "I don't even really know how it happened, it just...did. You can't help who you fall in love with."
Elena gave a derisive snort, but had nothing else to say on the matter. She didn’t know about any of that, falling in love with someone so much that you just erased the worst of them? That didn't sound right to her. It sounded terrifying, actually. It made her reconsider her entire view of Keelin as a person. Where did the line of turning a blind eye end? How bad did things have to get for someone to say it was too much? Elena liked her moral compass pointing due North and she didn’t care to understand how Freya’s childhood had warped her morals so badly or how Keelin’s love had blinded her.
"You've never been in love, have you?" Freya said, breaking Elena out of her thoughts. Stunning blue eyes narrowed into a withering glare.
"I'm seriously sick of being psychoanalyzed," she sniped stonily. Freya offered her a small, apologetic smile.
"I'm sorry, it's just...hard to explain. Haven't you ever had someone you would do anything for?" she asked. Elena eyed her warily, and Freya's heart hurt a bit for her. She was so closed up, so untrusting. Like a dog that had been beaten one too many times. Freya saw so much of Klaus in Elena that it made her wonder how much chemistry the two would have if they weren’t on opposing sides.
"I wouldn't break the law," Elena replied finally, clearly on the defensive.
"Wouldn't you?" Freya pressed, and Elena was surprised at the bit of pain she saw in the older blonde's face. "Haven't you ever had someone you would do *anything* to protect them, no matter the cost? Haven't you ever loved someone that much?" Her voice cracked as she stared at her imploringly, pleading with Elena to understand.
Elena was quiet, her eyes averted and Freya watched a few things flash through those ocean blue depths. Shame, anger, apprehension, maybe even the tiniest hint of longing to understand what Freya was talking about. Then Freya watched in fascination as all the emotions were carefully collected and locked away behind a blank façade. Freya didn’t know much about the special agent, but she had learned from somewhere to guard all her emotions.
"No," she answered, not wanting to bring up the past, in a breath barely above a whisper, clearly uncomfortable with the subject matter. "I will put on literally whatever you want if we can stop talking about this." Elena added quickly, the snark only half there. Freya gave her a smile, understanding the truce for what it was, and ushered Elena into the bathroom.
"How do you feel about a shower?" Freya asked lightly. Elena gave her a half smile and followed behind her into the confines of a bathroom that had no business being as luxurious as it was.
When Freya emerged from Elena’s room she looked, and felt, immensely pleased with herself. It had been a while since she had pulled off such a stunning makeover. Elena no longer looked like a patient on the mend from a gunshot wound.
"I feel ridiculous, Francesca." Elena said, hesitating in the doorway. Freya scoffed slightly.
"Stop being dramatic. You're way more comfortable, right? And I barely did anything to your hair, I just dried it a little. You wouldn't let me put makeup on you," she said with a hint of grumpiness in her voice.
"I'm inside. What the hell do I need makeup for?" Elena asked with confusion, her brow furrowing ever so slightly. Freya just gave her a long-suffering sigh.
"Oh my sweet, summer child," she mumbled under her breath.
Elena finally emerged fully from the bedroom, looking less ruffled, her long dark hair glossy and tumbling freely down her back. She looked refreshed and was dressed in a long, casual red maxi dress that allowed her free range of movement but still looked flattering. There was no waistband pressing against her bandaged stitches which she was eternally grateful for. Elena had begrudgingly admitted that it was comfortable. It wasn't that she didn't like dresses, she simply felt vulnerable and overly exposed when wearing them. The frumpy clothing had always been a kind of defense; a high wall protecting her from wandering eyes.
She followed Freya on bare feet into the kitchen and dining area, blinking in surprise at the amount of food on the breakfast bar opposite the island, and a very laid back Klaus sitting at the table, reading the paper. Had he really made food for them, for her? It was unexpectedly domestic. She didn't think he could cook. He seemed like the dine-out-at-fancy-expensive-restaurants type.
Out of the corner of his eye, Klaus noticed Elena and Freya enter the kitchen. He had finished cooking the rest of the bacon and baking two more sets of glazed bows before the two women had made an appearance. It gave him just enough time to lounge casually at the table, though he was a sea of turmoil on the inside.
“It seems I have cooked too much food. Coffee is over there. I suppose the two of you can share the leftovers. Do take care not to eat too much special agent, hm?” Klaus said, waving his hand carelessly towards the expensive espresso machine when he mentioned coffee. Having already grabbed a plate of food and a bowl of fruit, Klaus continued to sit at the dining room table and look over the newspaper. Freya stared at brother unimpressed, something was definitely going on with him. Then she turned back to Elena with an exasperated look on her face.
“That’s his way of saying he cooked for everyone but refuses to admit he is capable of behaving like a civilized human being,” she sighed, gesturing at the food for Elena to take some.
Freya happily made herself a plate and plopped down at Klaus's right and when Elena joined them, she sat herself at Freya's left with a small bowl of fruit. While she was ridiculously hungry, she was also somewhat nauseous from the painkillers.
She let her eyes wander, since it was the first time she wasn’t locked in one room. His place was stupidly shiny. Everything was sleek, modern, all clean lines, glossy blacks, and dark faux wood. All very uniform. Impersonal. Cold. There were no family photos, no plants, but no doubt everything was expensive as hell. The views were stunning, though she was loath to admit she liked anything about a place owned by a Mikaelson. She tried to ignore the tense silence hanging, focusing on getting her fruit down.
Klaus stood up after neatly folding the paper back up and giving it to Freya. Freya took the paper, but was watching her brother carefully, almost cautiously curious. She had never seen him behave in such a manner. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a tall glass before he filled it halfway with ice. Then he grabbed a sprite from the fridge, cracked it open with one hand, and poured it slowly over the ice. Every motion was deliberately done so that Elena could watch every movement of his hands; because she was watching him like a hawk. Freya watched the scene unfold before her, her brother not just grabbing a drink for Elena but preparing it for her. On his way back to the table, he grabbed a medication bottle and took the two items over to Elena, setting them in front of the young woman.
“For the nausea caused by the painkillers,” he stated. Then he moved back to his chair and sat down, resuming breakfast. The agent stiffened beside Freya when Klaus neared her but she didn’t recoil from him. But all Klaus did was set the items down, explain what they were, and then return to his seat. Freya, for her part, had no idea what was going on with Klaus; but she made a mental note to interrogate him about it once Elena was out of earshot.
Klaus couldn’t say why he had suddenly shown an interest in the young woman that went beyond his need for whatever she might be hiding. He knew he should have gone through her belongings at the hospital. That was a mistake that had no doubt cost him the papers he was looking for and a mistake he wouldn’t make again. He couldn’t help but wonder if his sudden keen interest in helping Elena was due to the way his stomach had curled in disgust at the thought of her being one of his pets as Josette had suggested. Though his body had made it quite clear there was a physical attraction to her, he did not see her as purely an object for sex. Though it was no doubt at least part of why he couldn’t stop caring for her well-being despite his many misgivings.
“I took the liberty of having Josette bring the meds by. You’re on some strong meds for the moment,” he said softly, trying to make it clear he had no ulterior motive. “If you would prefer something a bit milder to eat I can make something else. Josette did threaten my life if she found out you weren’t eating properly. I’m not going to gamble with my life, I know the family she comes from.” Klaus put a few more slices of bacon on his plate along with another pastry. He was quite proud of his baking skills. They had improved a great deal over the years since he started using it as a stress management technique, alongside his painting.
Elena stared at the pill bottle while he spoke before she finally reached for it. She read the label thrice over before inspecting the pills inside closely. She had never truly been taken care of, at least not in this manner. The closest to being cared for had come from Bonnie, but this was different. Klaus wasn't her best friend. He wasn’t even an acquaintance but he was going out of his way to make sure she was comfortable. She knew this could all be a ploy to get her to lower her defenses, and there was no real way of telling what the pills in the bottle actually were. It wasn’t like she carried around a drug testing kit in her back pocket, though she made a mental note that that wasn’t a bad idea considering her line of work. She had to admit didn't trust Josette either no matter how skilled she was as a physician, but the woman didn’t seem like the type to poison her, even under duress from Klaus.
Klaus was doing his best not to stare at Elena too much. However, his sister had done an impeccable job cleaning the special agent up and he couldn’t help but admit to himself that she was stunning. He could see the apprehension behind her eyes and he did his best to soften without being too obvious about things. He was sure that if he seemed too relaxed too quickly, Elena would begin to suspect that he had a very different reason for her being in his home. He then pulled out a phone and slid it across the table to Elena. She set the pills down, still mulling things over in her head as she watched as he slid the phone towards her. She caught it with a little shift of her hand, her heart rate picking up, hammering against her ribs. Elena could hardly believe what she was seeing.
“I can’t exactly have you using your old phone but I also won’t always just be sitting on my ass in this penthouse, therefore I need a way to contact you. That phone is a ghost which means you can’t be tracked by anyone. It has my number, Bonnie’s, Josette’s, and Freya’s. I would prefer you limit your number of calls but I can’t exactly order you around or Freya will kill me,” he said with an irritated sigh. “Her list of threats is always extensive and disturbingly creative for someone who claims to not be affiliated with our family business anymore. And yes, I know who your best friend is and what her number is. It’s my job to know things.” Klaus ate a few more bits before he stood and took his empty plate to the sink. She looked up at him in shock, but there were little alarm bells going off in the back of her mind. He knew about Bonnie. She shouldn't be surprised, he did say he had snooped on her life. However, the thought of it still made her stomach twist uncomfortably. She didn't want Bonnie mixed up in all this if it could be avoided.
His phone suddenly gave a shrill ring and he let out an annoyed huff when he saw it was his father. He was tempted to just ignore the call. But that wouldn’t end up any better, in fact, it would make things worse the next time he saw Mikael in person. Quickly Klaus left the kitchen and went to his office to take the call. Speaking to his father often left him feeling vulnerable and that was the last state he needed Elena to witness him go through.
Freya watched him go for a moment, and Elena was slightly intrigued by the worried expression she found on the blonde's features. Freya turned to Elena, giving her a smile and quickly acting like nothing had been wrong.
“Exciting, right? I’m shocked he actually gave you a phone. Miracles really do happen,” Freya chuckled. “ Anything you need, you can give me a call or shoot me a text."
"...I'm...confused,” Elena admitted softly, clutching onto the phone as if it were her lifeline. Though not directly aimed at her, Elena could see that Klaus had an unpredictable temperament. Freya gave her a soft smile.
"Nik is...difficult. I don't want to be cliché, but...there is more to him than what meets the eye. Just like I think there's more to you,” she pointed out.
**
In his office, Klaus was doing his best to keep his tone even. He didn’t need to make the call worse than it was already going to be, no matter how much he wanted to pick a fight. His father calling was never a good sign, though he had known the patriarch of his family would be seeking him out sooner or later. He had just been banking on it being later. Klaus was sure that he was not only going to be threatened but there was also a good chance of him being summoned to the Mikaelson estate. There would be a punishment for his failings, he just wasn’t sure how severe said punishment would be.
“Hello, father,” he said, his voice full of tension as he did his best to not fly off the handle.
”Hello boy. I see you have managed to be a failure yet again. How pathetic can you possibly be?” Mikael snarled, throwing something glass that Klaus then heard shatter on the other end of the line. He leaned heavily against his desk as he listened to the man who raised him eviscerate him. ”You can’t even retrieve a stack of simple papers from a safe. Furthermore it seems you couldn’t even kill Tristan properly. Killing him might have caused chaos but injuring him is going to cause retribution which ends in our deaths! Honestly, Niklaus, what kind of Mikaelson are you? Can’t even do the simplest of jobs successfully. Then again, you’re not really a Mikaelson, are you? You’re just a pathetic waste of space. When Elijah comes to my office you will come with him or mark my words I will burn down the Neutral territory with you and your precious civilians in it. I’m honestly glad a weakling like yourself isn’t actually my son.”
Klaus felt tears sting his eyes and he blinked vigorously, trying to get rid of them. No matter how much he pretended to not care what Mikael said about him, on some deep level it festered like an open wound. He had many things he wanted to say to his father but couldn’t manage to say a word. It felt like his throat had constricted and he was unable to force enough air through to form a coherent sentence. He was humiliated and moved to sit heavily on the chair behind his desk. The couch might have been the better option but he was too exhausted to move once he had sagged into the leather monstrosity that was his desk chair. Without saying another word to his father, Klaus clicked the phone off. There was no point in continuing the conversation, Mikael had already made his wishes clear. Klaus leaned his head back against the soft leather headrest and crossed his legs at the ankle stretched out in front of him, elevated on the desk. Klaus let his eyes close and the weight of the past two days sank fully onto him. However, he was too exhausted to think about future plans and instead let sleep take him.