Chapter 7: Fury Closing In

Note: Apologies for lack of muse's inspiration, I haven't been in the mood for writing much lately. Not sure where this chapter came from – I had some of it done but I've been stuck for months (on most of my fics still but eh.). Anyways . . . chapter title comes from Ruelle's "Madness", an interesting song I've discovered recently.

The weeks since Rebekah was supposed to arrive with Hope were growing long and Dahlia's patience grew thin. Tension around the Mikaelson Compound grew. Two months passed and not a word from their sister nor had any sightings of her or Hope had been found in or around New Orleans. Kol's magic couldn't find them. Davina's magic couldn't find them. The other witches of New Orleans couldn't find them. The werewolves couldn't track them. The police couldn't find them. The vampires weren't of any use either. Not even Dahlia could find any trace of them.

It was as if Rebekah and Hope had completely disappeared off the face of the Earth.

Dahlia continued to keep her appearances in public scarce, only appearing before her "inner circle" which consisted of Klaus, Elijah, Kol, and Davina. When she went back into hiding, as she had for a while now, she would utilize the link she'd created between herself and Klaus – channeling his immortality into power and using the link to keep an eye on her "kingdom" through the hybrid.

The three brothers, Davina, and Katherine had recently begun meeting in secret when Dahlia was otherwise occupied in order to devise a way to free themselves and search for their missing friends and family members. They always spoke in code, careful not to reveal their intentions to Dahlia or others who would betray them. Truthfully, Klaus's hesitance to trust Davina, Katherine, or Kol was constant but he knew they were needed if they wanted to break free from Dahlia and search for Hope, Rebekah, and the others.

Klaus had never been known to be patient and he was even less so now that his daughter and sister were nowhere to be found.

They'd spent years keeping Hope's existence and Rebekah's whereabouts a secret. Only Klaus and Elijah had known where they were or that the newest Mikaelson heir was alive. Not even Marcel or Camille had known.

Much to Klaus's humiliation, it hadn't taken long for Dahlia to find out his daughter was alive – apparently she'd been able to sense the magic in Hope – nor to expose the secret that Rebekah was the one they'd entrusted her to.

It had been painful enough to have only met his daughter twice in her short life – for the short day after her birth and then for a few short hours when she was six months old – and now he didn't know if he'd ever see her again.

If at all, if Dahlia didn't kill her first.

He winced at the horrid thought of losing his only daughter, now, as he clutched the soft satin blanket he'd wrapped her in that first day with her after rescuing her from the witches. He spent much of his time alone in the nursery she was to be raised in – the room he decorated himself. He constantly tortured himself, rocking in a chair unused, with thoughts of that day and what could have been – and not just with Hope.

The day that Hope had been born, the Mikealson's had lost someone very near and dear to their family. She hadn't been with them long, but Hayley Marshall had become more than just the woman carrying Klaus's child – to all of them, really. To them, she was a Mikaelson – she was family.

Watching the life drain from her as the blood poured down her neck . . . it was one of the darkest and most painful moments of Klaus's long life. It haunted his nightmares frequently, reminding him of his failure to protect her.

Should they defeat Dahlia, save Hope, and bring her back home to them (and they would if it was the last thing he did) he would one day have to confess that failure to his daughter. He would have to explain why the woman who loved her most, who selflessly sacrificed her own life to bring her into this world, wasn't there to see her daughter grow up. He knew the pain of wondering of a parent who wasn't there – he'd spent a thousand years thinking of his true father.

Hope would by no means grow up as alone and unloved as he – she had him, her aunts and uncles, and countless others who loved her without question and would die to protect her – but she would still feel the pain of a lost parent as he had.

And what a parent she lost.

Hayley would have thrived as a mother – loving, doting, kind, strict but fair, understanding. He hadn't known her long but seeing her with Davina, those of her pack, even his own child-like sister . . . there was no doubt she would have been a far better parent than he could ever hope to be.

He thought of Hayley more than he cared to admit – even to himself. He knew he hadn't treated her as she'd deserved. He pushed everyone away, his own siblings included, and Hayley had been no different. He'd seen the way that his brother and she cared about each other and he'd hated it – even if at the time he didn't know why.

It was something that Dahlia reveled in torturing him with.

The link between them allowed her into his memories, his dreams, even his thoughts. It wasn't something he cared to discuss with the others. He was sure they probably knew – how else would Dahlia know things they never talked about anymore? No one ever dared to question him about it either. He was sure they couldn't know everything . . .

. . . if Elijah knew certain things Klaus was sure his elder brother would have attacked him long ago.

Not that Elijah had any room to judge. For a long, long time after Hayley's death, Elijah remained more inside himself than ever before. The elder Mikaelson was far too familiar with losing the woman he loved but this last one left him more broken than ever. It wasn't long, though, after Katerina Petrova had shown up in their lives again that Elijah seemed to be healing in his grief of Hayley Marshall.

If only Klaus could find such peace as his brother.

It was only through Dahlia's internal mental torturing of his past that Klaus had really begun to realize just what the wolf who'd bared his child had truly meant to him. He'd never say it out loud to anyone – especially Elijah. What good would it do anyway?

Hayley was gone. The only peace he could ever find now was in finding, protecting, and raising their daughter.

In three years – longer, if he was being honest – no one had ever sparked an interest in him. One had come close . . . but his heart would never open up to anyone that way again. The woman who he'd deemed as his own personal therapist, someone who'd understood him in a way few did – Camille. He could have probably loved her, maybe even did, but losing Hayley and sending his daughter away for her own safety had wounded him too deeply.

It mattered little, anyway . . . for not only was Camille gone, presumed as dead as the others who were missing, her heart had belonged to another – to the man he'd raised as a son.

When he was at his darkest, in those moments where his hold on reality were weakest, he often imagined what his life could have been.

. . . if Hayley hadn't been taken by Francesca and Genevieve . . . if he'd been able to save her . . . if they could have raised their daughter together here in New Orleans . . . if she could have loved him as he had loved her . . .

But none of that was real. Hayley was dead, Hope was missing, and his dear old long-lost aunt wished to kill his daughter.

He remembered the night Hope was born well. . . the night Hayley was taken from them. After finding Marcel back at the compound with his daughter, Klaus had left his adopted son to mourn his vampires. The Original Hybrid ascended the stairs, softly rocking the bundle in his arms. It had marveled him how much of his little wolf he could see in the newborn's eyes.

Now as he watched the others around the open court of the compound, his loneliness only grew. It was true that misery wreaked through the French Quarter, but many here still had loved ones to hold on to.

Just as Elijah had his doppelganger and Kol had his witch.

NiKlaus, however . . . well . . .

It mattered little, though. Klaus had been alone for most of his life . . . all he needed now was his daughter. They would defeat Dahlia, find their missing friends and family, and protect Hope.

Agitated by the sounds of life and so-called happiness around him, he deposited the blanket back into the unused crib and sulked out of the compound for a walk to clear his head. Maybe find some booze on the way . . .

OGOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOG

"We need to go into the Quarter, see what we're up against. Do a little recon." Hayley paced around the small cottage, cracking her knuckles even as she kept watch over a sleeping Hope across the room. It was late, after all – past midnight – but the child was the only one asleep.

It had been almost two months since Hayley, Rebekah, and Hope came to the cottage. For the most part, the three had fallen into the routine the others had been living with albeit differently having to take care of a toddler too. They all took turns keeping watch, researching, cooking and cleaning, and entertaining Hope. Vincent and Freya switched off holding up the protection spell that surrounded them. Once every two weeks, the adults ventured out in pairs under the cover of night to search for food and supplies.

On this particular night, the group had been throwing ideas back and forth (again), trying to come up with a plan of attack (again). Well, mostly everyone anyway. Hayley hadn't participated much, instead focusing on continuing to memorize everything she could about her daughter. The wolf/vampire hybrid wasn't used to all this deliberating – she'd been the Alpha of her adopted pack for nearly three years. As much as she hadn't trusted them, they followed her lead without question. In return, she'd protected them from vampires, hunters, and other packs.

"That's not really a great idea – the Quarter's not really the safest place right now." Josh shook his head.

All this discussion was agitating her – she was more of the do-first, think about it later type.

"Josh is right – besides, we're heavily outnumbered." Marcel reminded them.

"All the more reason to find my brothers." Rebekah reasoned, sitting on the couch where Hope lay, stroking the young girl's cheek. Hayley nodded in agreement.

The rest of the room, however, wasn't exactly on the same side.

"My spell protecting us here won't hold if we're not all together." Freya told them, her hand entwining with Jackson's where the two of them stood near the kitchen table. "I've been working on a way to break my aunt's control on more people but I don't have the strength to break her hold and protect all of us here. Even with Vincent and I working together, I don't think it would be enough. Dahlia's stronger than any witch I've ever come up against." Vincent nodded his agreement with Freya.

"I don't need protecting, I can take care of myself." Hayley insisted. "Take me out of the spell." Freya let out a frustrated breath, shaking her head.

"Yeah, me too." Rebekah agreed.

"Girls, we should all stick together. Strength in numbers and all that." Mary said.

"Screw that, I need to save my brothers." Rebekah huffed. Hayley and Rebekah both moved toward the door, ready to leave.

"We can't just mount an attack half-cocked – we need to stop and think about this. Make a plan." Camille called after them.

"The city's under Dahlia's control. The minute you step outside of Freya's spell and outside the bayou, she'll know you're here." Jackson's deep voice vibrated in the small cottage. "Hayley, no one even knows you're still alive. If you expose yourself, you could put Hope in more danger."

The brunette wolf paused, pivoting her head back to watch the rise and fall of her daughter's breath as she slept. She let out a sigh, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, she tensed and clenched her fists. "Finding the Mikaelsons and getting rid of this witch bitch will get Hope and everyone else out of danger. Until then, she'll be safe here. Rebekah, let's go."

"Gladly." The blonde followed Hayley out of the cabin – both of them completely missing the pointed look that Freya gave Jackson and then Vincent. The two of them used their enhanced speed to race away from the cabin. They could feel the moment they stepped outside of Freya's protection spell even though neither of them had any magic of their own.

As they crossed into the urban part of New Orleans, they expected to be attacked right away. They kept themselves off the main streets and out of sight, but neither could sense any threat – other than the cold dread that permeated the air they suspected to be Dahlia's thrall.

They were halfway to the French Quarter before they even encountered any living or undead soul. It was a younger couple, arm in arm, out for a stroll on what was actually – weather wise, anyway – a fairly nice night. The couple was human, and neither woman recognized them.

Either the humans had no clue of the supernatural or they were just really stupid to be out so late.

Hayley and Rebekah avoided coming into contact with them, continuing on their way.

"Stupid humans . . ." The elder of the two breathed, her accent thick with annoyance. Hayley smirked, rolling her eyes in agreement.

The rest of the way toward the compound was uneventful – a few vampires out feeding, some drunk humans stumbling out of a bar, a young mother bouncing a fussy baby high on a balcony . . . but nothing even resembling the warzone Hayley and Rebekah had been expecting.

But then Hayley picked up on a feeling inside . . . she couldn't explain it, but it was there. Or rather, she picked up on a scent and the scent triggered a feeling inside of her. She turned to look at Rebekah as they stalked the streets, but the blonde didn't seem to notice anything. The scent grew stronger as they moved forward . . . "Rebekah . . ."

"Bloody hell! It's my brother!" Rebekah shouted/whispered, pointing a few blocks down.

Klaus Mikaelson staggered haphazardly down the Quarter sidewalks, an almost empty bottle of something the women could vaguely smell to be bourbon in his hand. He was mumbling to himself, in his own little world. The Original Hybrid didn't seem to notice them – though that could be because he was heavily intoxicated.

Rebekah and Hayley froze, watching him from a distance. They knew that however drunk, if they made too much noise Klaus would see and hear them.

"He's bloody sloshed . . ." Rebekah mouthed.

Hayley was still having a hard time believing what she was seeing was real. The last time she'd had eyes on Klaus Mikaelson, he'd been magically pinned to a wall and screaming threats at the witches who threatened their daughter and her. She'd thought of him often in the years since, of them raising their daughter together, what it could have been like.

But . . . she'd known it was him in front of them even before he turned the corner and Rebekah had pointed it out, hadn't she? Not that she understood how or why. It was similar to how she'd been able to sense Hope and yet different all at the same time . . .

As he got closer to them, Hayley could hear some of what he was muttering to himself.

". . . bloody done with this! Aaghh! Get out of my head woman!"

Was he talking about Dahlia?

". . . will find my daughter, but you'll never go near her! I'll rip you apart before I let you touch her!" Klaus slurred, downing another drink. "That's right, slither into whatever bloody hole you came from and keep out of my sodding head!"

The two women watched as Klaus's legs bent and he plopped down to the ground with a thud. It didn't phase the Hybrid, though, as he tipped the bottle and chugged.

He was quiet for a moment, lost in thought and staring at the ground. The bottle lay on the ground against his thigh, practically empty at this point.

"He's so lost, so broken . . ." Rebekah breathed.

"Hope, sweetheart, wherever you are . . . I will find you . . ." Klaus rambled on, no longer talking to Dahlia, just his inner demons. "I've failed so many others, even my own siblings, but not you – never you my littlest wolf."

Hayley let out a breath. Hope had said her father called her that but actually hearing it edged at something within Hayley.

"I failed your mother, too . . . and I'll never be able to forgive myself . . . but I swear I'll find you and protect you . . ."

Hayley flinched as her heart twinged, her foot crunching something on the ground. Rebekah tensed, Hayley froze again – Klaus looked up.

He was staring right at them.

To Be Continued . . .