Hello, kittens. This is the end. I know some of you mentioned me writing a sequel... as much as I would love to indulge you, this is it for the time being. I might write some dabbles later in life (when I'm not as busy or stressed) and when I do you will be the first to know.

For now, thank you for reading this and giving my imagination even a second glance. I appreciate all the reviews, favourites and follows. Without all of you I probably would have given up on this a long time ago.

Epilogue: Broken

All these shards, shattered around me like glass

They form a whole, cracked but unbroken.

The first time I hold her in my arms, my thoughts range from 'what an angry little red face' all the way to 'is this really mine'. I feel no certain connection; this couldn't have been the child that grew in my womb. Impossible. Surely if this were my baby I would feel something profound when Carlisle put it in my arms: my heart should swell and my eyes should grow teary. Something should happen.

It makes no sense and that frightens me, because this is my baby. This is the little girl I'd harboured within my body for nine month – fending off anything that might even think to harm her. Now in my arms, swaddled in a cheery yellow, I feel nothing but confusion for the life in my palms.

Breakable, is the right work. Small and innocent and fragile – she does not belong in this crazy world.

Slowly, I lick my lips, terrified to look up and see that profound something written across Klaus' face. He'd surely notice my lack of motherly love, I don't want that. I don't want this; this confusion, this lack of emotion. It scares me half to death. I want to feel that something, whatever it is. I want the emotions swirling within me over the past months to be manifest, but instead I'm left unaffected. This could be anyone's child.

"She's not as pretty as most people made out she'd be…" My gaze snaps up from the scowling little face to watch Klaus hovering next to the bed, his face mirrored in a similar frown.

Unbidden, a grin tugs at my lips and I can't help but feel a rush of love for this man. The man who wore the same frown as his child as if they were one and the same. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes and I blink in shock, yet the stream builds and pools over my cheek. Because they are the same, I realise with surety. This is the baby he fought so hard to protect, even from himself; even if at first glance I felt nothing for the babe, I knew one thing for certain now – Klaus was mine and so was his baby.

It's a twisted sort of realisation, but it makes sense.

I lower my chin, the tears still dripping, to gaze at the child. There's still nothing remarkable about her, just that frown that speaks of her father. There's still not much of an overwhelming love, but I assume I'll get there. It takes time to fall in love, to learn a person – and I have all eternity.

Klaus clears his throat, when I look at him I see the indecision in his eyes. "We didn't speak about a name-"

"Hayley," I say with utmost surety and Klaus stills.

"Hayley?"

I nod as a tangible fear that he'll disagree claws at my chest. "I think it's appropriate, don't you?"

A slow smile strains his lips and then he's right there, looming over our child in my arms. "Hayley," He says, reaching out a finger to smooth the lines on her forehead. She frowns deeper and Klaus chuckles. "It's perfect."

My mouth trembles and then I'm really crying and Klaus is holding us against his chest.

Hayley moans and squirms between us, unable to understand the gravity of this moment. Unable to understand the miracle she is for us. A miracle I can hardly understand either.

It's a few hours later when there's a knock on the door.

"Leah, you have visitors."

Klaus sighs and tilts his head back, clear annoyance lighting his features. "Why did we let your family know the birth date?"

My brows rise and I shift Hayley within the circle of my arms, she offers a faint moan of protest. "She's a few days late." I state and I bounce the bundle, and as surely as the sun rises, the child looks up at me with absent contentment. "I only told mom," I offer as unapologetically as an apology can be.

"We should have told Sue not to tell anyone else." Klaus insists as he glares at the door. I'm pretty sure he's well aware that the vampires and wolves waiting downstairs are likely eavesdropping on this very conversation. He's Klaus, so I doubt he cares.

"Who told the Salvadors?"

Klaus smirks, "I had no choice but to boast, they're both impotent."

"You'll be too if you're rude to Sue." I say and Klaus does a poor impression of looking terrified. I swat his arm. "I'm serious."

"I like her." Klaus waves his hand in a vague gesture towards the door. "Sam, though, is more than welcome to leave."

There's a muffled raise of voices from downstairs followed by a timely crash of something expensive-but-probably-not-timeless-because-those-thingys-are-kept-in-the-locked-backroom.

I cringe, shifting again – pausing to look at the baby, she's sleeping. Note: ask Carlisle if it's normal for her to be this quiet. "Technically, he's here because Emily is." I cock my head. "Plus he's the only one with a car big enough to bring the lot of them."

His pout is adorable and I grin. "If only Sue, Renesme and Carlisle came, it would have been fine."

"Not everyone is a recluse like you, Klaus."

"I merely choose my company,"

"You're like a toddler unwilling to share its toys."

There's a drag of silence before Klaus leans forward, crowding me with his magnificent eyes and stubble roughened jaw. "You're much more than a toy, Leah." He captures my lips in a bruising kiss of three seconds before pulling back. "But if you insist on these people encroaching on our time together with our daughter, so be it."

I roll my eyes. "We have years to be alone, five minutes isn't the last of it."

His hand trail's over Hayley's dark spattering of hair before trailing up to stroke my cheek. "You are tired-" ("I have reason to be.") "-I'll allow three-"

"Four,"

"Three visitors." Klaus presses my skin lightly before pulling away. "You must rest; the others can see you in the morning."

I know arguing is futile so I pucker my lips and Klaus gives me a feather-light peck before going to the door.

A few moments later he leads in Sue, Seth and Renesme (looking for all her ten years like a beautiful nineteen year old). They're followed closely by Carlisle who'd thankfully changed from his surgical wear into slacks and a shirt. He looked nicer when not covered in blood anyway.

I sneak a sly glance at Klaus – three visitors my ass. His returned leer is as clear as if he'd screamed. "He is the doctor, it's only normal that he would be here."

I snort, yeah right. Klaus and Carlisle's weird bromance was something I couldn't understand, not that I faulted Klaus for finding a friend. It's just that the two were so different, their only link being their impossible ages. Then again, I guess there's a lot to bond over when you've been in over a dozen wars, were almost murdered as often and lived lives of pure loneliness.

As I greet the visitors I have a sudden flash of amusement at Klaus's choice of people. Granted I would have chosen the same possibly, but the small group is very clearly Klaus's favourite among the array. The selection, although he'll deny it vehemently, was made purely on the basis of his personal enjoyment of their company.

Mom, naturally, has taken the Original under her wing and treated him like a moody teenager for all his grumpiness. He doesn't mind it though, he hasn't said it outright but I know he revels in the idea of a mother figure caring for him, approving of him. Seth had also easily fallen into place, they weren't close, but Seth's respect for the imprint is just below his respect for the man – in a weird brotherly-concern kind of way.

Renesme we probably couldn't get rid of if we wanted to. She's already – not quite discretely – requested to be Klaus and my child's godmother. She probably wouldn't care less if the baby was born with two heads and a tail, her enthusiasm over the pregnancy ranged from teasing us mercilessly to near-hysteria over whether the child would like her at all.

Seth hovers off to the side while mom swoops in to coo at Hayley. It's all very domestic and sweet, but after a moment I give in to the pleading gaze of Sue and hand her the child. My arms weep in thanks for the reprieve and when Seth comes to my side and takes my hand I'm thankful for the gentle caress of his fingers.

"How you doing?" He asks, his voice heavier than it's been in a long time. It still surprises me that he's a man instead of a boy now, that he's found his imprint and that the world has somehow allowed us this small fortune.

I squeeze his hand, leaning my head to the side so that he closes the gap between us in a half-hug. "Happy," I tell him, letting my eyes drift across our small family. "This is it, huh? This was what all that craziness was for in the end."

He presses a kiss to the top of my disheveled head. "Your happiness is worth a lot, Leah. To a lot of people,"

It won't stop.

I'm lying on the bed, staring at the roof. Hayley's screams raise tears of frustration to my eyes.

"Please, please, stop." My arms are burning from holding her up, bouncing her. My body aches and I wonder if this is all it will ever be – pain and frustration, the deep sense of helplessness. "Why won't you stop?"

The door creaks open and Klaus slips in, he pauses and I turn watery pleading eyes toward him. His name is a broken sob on my lips and he's beside me in an instant, smelling of soil and sunshine. God, I cannot remember the last time I merely got to hold him, to breathe him in.

"Please," I mutter and he gently takes the squirming child from my arms.

Face alight with something new – something he never had before Hayley was born – Klaus cradles the babe and starts to sing one of those ancient lullabies he's so fond of, the ones I can't understand never mind sing either.

Hayley clams up, her eyes going wide to stare at her father. There's wonderment there and I consider for a moment that she can understand the words he sings, or whether is simply the sound of his voice that does it. My own body melts into the bed, tired and sore and in desperate need of some peace.

I hum under my breath when Klaus comes closer and drags his fingers through my hair, Hayley is still entranced by Klaus's singing or voice or face, or everything. I'm entranced by everything. "Thanks," I mutter and press a soft kiss to the fingers at my cheek, eyes fluttering shut. "Love you…both." I add because it's important, because there are times when I doubt it and those times are the worst.

"And we you," Klaus stops his singing to say.

I find my much needed sleep behind layers of Klaus's voice, behind the stress and worry of raising a new life. It's covered in memories of pain and laughter, in memories of pining and love. It tastes of freedom and smells like sunshine.

When I wake up later I'll try to be more thankful, more grateful. I'll take my child and husband into my arms and breathe in their life, the joy of their existence. And I'll never, never let them go again.

All these pieces, broken and scattered, in mercy gathered, mended and whole.

Note: when I started writing this I was in some depression funk, this story I feel reflects my own journey to getting out of it. And although I don't personally experience most of what happens to Leah, I believe she's embodied me and everyone else who's ever had it rough. I know happy endings are cliche and this is probably very cheesy, but I want to say this isn't the end of Leah's story, she has so many trials and errors to overcome still.

No story ends with the epilogue, the epilogue is the prologue to the next part of someone's life.

Thank you and please review. :)