Author's Note: I was given a prompt of Elijah and Klaus being overprotective of Rebekah. This is what came out. And I'm actually not entirely sure if it fulfills the prompt or not. I think it does.

Disclaimer: The Originals (and The Vampire Diaries) unfortunately does not belong to me. If it did, the 4th season of TO would have been very different (though I enjoyed it, don't get me wrong) and the fifth season would certainly not be the last.

Love Hurts

"For you," a quiet voice said and eleven year old Rebekah Mikaelson looked up from her examination of the market place vendor's spices, surprised.

The young boy in front of her held out a flower to her and a slow smile curved her lips. "A flower?" she asked, delighted, shyly taking the offering and bringing it to her nose to smell. "It's bea –"

"What are you doing, sister? Mother's looking for you."

Niklaus stepped between the two of them, frowning at the boy before turning to Rebekah.

"'Bekah's got a suitor!" Kol crowed, waggling his eyebrows.

Rebekah felt her face burn. "You're horrible, both of you!"

"I-I didn't mean any harm. I wasn't trying to be forward," the boy managed, swallowing anxiously.

"You weren't!" Rebekah gasped, upset.

"Is there a problem here?" Elijah's voice interjected, the nineteen year old smoothly stepping up to them.

"Elijah, make them go away," Rebekah said immediately but it was too late. The boy was all but running away and Rebekah sighed, looking sadly at the flower in her hand.

"Rebekah, you shouldn't be alone with suitors," Elijah scolded. "And Mother is looking for you. She needs those spices."

And that was that.

Rebekah huffed, glowering at her older brothers before stomping away.

11th Century, Europe

"Rebekah, do be reasonable," Elijah sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly.

"Reasonable?" Rebekah repeated incredulously. "Was it reasonable when Nik snapped Victor's neck?"

Elijah glanced at the for now lifeless body of the young vampire at their feet. "Niklaus may have been a bit rash, but –"

"Was it reasonable when you compelled him to never so much as look at me again?" Rebekah interrupted shrilly.

"I should have had his heart in my hand but I let him live out of respect for you," Elijah said, growing impatient with the discussion.

"Respect?" Rebekah all but spat. "That is not respect, Elijah, that –"

"Need I remind you that your last love interest put daggers in all of our hearts? Niklaus spent over fifty years battling figments that wanted him to end his life. We finally got this family back on track. You'll forgive us if we're a little wary."

"Are you going to hold that over my head for the rest of our wretched existence?" Rebekah demanded, hurt and angry all at once.

"Oh, do stop whining, sister. Our actions were for your own good," Klaus drawled loftily, entering the room and raising his brows, his tone and expression smug.

Rebekah snorted, glowering at them, before storming from the room.

Elijah sighed again and Klaus clapped him on the shoulder. "Rebekah's tantrum will end soon enough, brother. Come. Have a drink with me."

Late 1919, New York

"This is where you live?"

"This is just a room," Rebekah responded, pulling the young man's mouth toward hers, not wanting to talk. Merely wanting someone to take away the images of fire that danced behind her eyes at every waking moment.

A distraction. A plaything for the night.

The young specimen of man before her was as good a choice as any.

Blond hair. Blue eyes. Nothing like…

Rebekah let that thought trail off, not letting her mind go there, instead kissing the young man fiercely, no doubt bruising his mouth, though he didn't seem to mind.

"I didn't know we were having company this evening."

Klaus's voice was soft and silky.

Dangerous.

"Go away, Nik," Rebekah snapped, breaking apart from her night's chosen entertainment long enough to send a glare her brother's way.

"Yeah, Nik, go away," the young man panted, not taking his eyes off Rebekah and leaning closer to her, clearly wanting to continue kissing her.

Klaus raised his brows, amused even as Rebekah could see the anger that glittered, ever present, in his eyes.

Anger that had been threatening to destroy them both. Ever since…

Fire. Flames, crackling and burning.

"Both of you must flee the city. I'll hold him off!"

Elijah and Marcel. Both of them gone in one fell swoop.

Not that Klaus talked about it. He didn't even speak Marcel's name. It was almost as though he had never existed at all. But then Rebekah would never have fallen in love with him. Would never have plotted against her family with him.

Would never have called forth her father.

And they wouldn't be here now, broken and hurting and without Elijah.

Elijah. There was at least some hope for him. Some chance.

"A feisty one, isn't he?" Klaus drawled now, clapping a hand on the young man's shoulder, effortlessly dragging him away from Rebekah.

"Nik, please," Rebekah started but Klaus was already moving, his hand bursting through the young man's chest.

Rebekah saw the young man's (-boy, really, he was little more than a boy-) eyes widen and a bare instant later his heart fell to the floor with a wet sounding smack, his body crumpling down beside it, released from Klaus's grip like so much trash.

"Why did you do that?" Rebekah demanded angrily and to her surprise there were tears pricking her eyes.

"Don't tell me he actually meant something to you. You weren't thinking of turning him, were you?" Klaus smirked, raising a brow.

"Don't be ridiculous; he was just to pass the time," Rebekah scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"You shouldn't be passing the time with anyone, little sister. It's too –"

"Too what?" Rebekah snapped, interrupting him, feeling her control slip. "Too soon? Since Marcel?" She spat the name like a missile, aiming to hurt, and her brother's eyes darkened.

"Do not speak to me of him!" Klaus roared, his hand suddenly around her throat, slamming her against the wall.

Rebekah gasped, startled, though distantly she knew she shouldn't be, and for an instant all she could do was stare into Klaus's rage filled eyes.

And then he was gone.

And Rebekah, breathing heavily and fighting tears, was left to massage her throat and stare sightlessly at the boy she had all but condemned to death.

"Elijah's in France," Marcel told her, brushing a strand of blond hair behind her ear, his voice gentle. "He asked me to compel him."

"Compel him?" Rebekah repeated, shocked. "We can't be compelled."

Marcel raised a brow at her. "I'm sorry. Apparently, you can. Vincent helped me. Elijah doesn't remember any of you now. He said he was a danger to you with his memory."

Rebekah closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Just when she had thought things couldn't get worse. That her heart couldn't possibly hurt any more than it already did. Not that it changed anything she supposed. Whether Elijah remembered her or not she could still never see him again.

Though she did like to think she would have been able to talk on the phone with him at least.

"Seemed to think he would never be able to stop trying to save your brother. And that would bring doom to all of you," Marcel continued, his voice apologetic and gentle. "I thought he had told you. He said he had his affairs in order."

Mutely Rebekah shook her head. She could understand why Elijah hadn't told her. She remembered their argument when Elijah had agreed to Vincent's mad plan to separate them all. Remembered how she had thrown words in his face, words to hurt him, to try to convince him to change his mind. How she had spat Hayley's and Niklaus's names at him, how she had told him Niklaus would go mad without him, trying so desperately to guilt him into coming up with another plan.

Because if anyone could surely it was Elijah.

It hadn't worked though and, despite the hurt stabbing deep inside, she could see why he would want to avoid another conversation like that.

"I'm sorry." Marcel murmured the words, tracing his thumb on her cheek and from some hidden reserve of strength she managed a smile for him.

"Elijah has always been self-sacrificing. Protecting us has always been his first priority. I suppose he's free now."

"We all are," Marcel said, leaning forward and capturing her lips in a kiss.

-End.