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Partum Asunder	By : SiioerSecret Category: M through R > The Originals Views: 5570 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I own no part of the The Originals or its characters. No money is being made from this story.

Chapter List
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Rebekah, Freya, Elijah, and Kol gathered in Freya’s chambers for the spell. “This is only temporary,” assured Freya, the words for her benefit as much as Rebekah’s. “I will find a way to set this right again.”
Rebekah smiled weakly, unable to muster anything more encouraging in reply. Freya took Elijah and Kol’s hands and began.
The effect was not immediate. Even with two vampires at her disposal, Freya had to proceed carefully, making sure not to endanger the fetus, especially given the modifications she had made to the spell. Slowly, an invisible, imperceptible vortex of power grew and circled around them, Rebekah at its center.
It felt like the tiniest tingling sensation in Rebekah’s belly, below the pit of her stomach. She instinctively touched her hands to the spot and felt the little bulge beneath her hands begin to shrink. As it did, the same spot at the base of Freya’s stomach began to rise ever so slightly.
A moment later it was done. Rebekah’s stomach was returned to its pre-pregnancy configuration and the magic began to fade. Freya released her brothers’ hands and reached down to feel the tiny bulge in her abdomen. As sad as she was for Rebekah, a tiny part of her could not help but to thrill at the sensation of new life growing inside her.
Horrible pain shot through Freya’s abdomen. She gasped, hands clutching against her stomach involuntarily, eyes widening in shock. She might have collapsed had not Elijah reached out and taken her arm to steady her.
The panic in Rebekah’s face was immense. “What’s wrong?”
Another stab of pain cut through Freya’s stomach, twice as powerful this time. Elijah’s grip was unable to prevent Freya from dropping to her knees as she screamed in agony. Rebekah and Kol rushed to Freya’s side, desperate for explanation.
Freya grabbed Rebekah’s hand tightly. “The baby,” Freya gasped, struggling to speak through the stabbing pains in her stomach. “Rejecting -- me.”
Elijah’s usual composure was entirely broken by the sight of his sister in such agony. “How is that possible?” he asked, but Freya was too overcome to provide the answer.
Kol realized the problem. “She’s not a vampire.”
“Neither is my baby!” Rebekah exclaimed.
“But the baby’s been inside a vampire for weeks now. It’s acclimated to vampire physiology, or vampire magic is tied up in the spell.” He was grasping at straws somewhat, but it made a strange sort of sense. Freya had channeled an Original vampire to put a baby into another Original vampire, and now she had inadvertently removed the Original component of the spell by putting the baby in herself.
Elijah did the only thing he could think to: he ripped open the flesh of his wrist with his teeth and thrust his bloodied forearm in front of Freya to drink. She latched on immediately, suckling greedily at the proffered blood. It seemed to help. As the color drained from Elijah’s arm, Freya’s vise-like grip on Rebekah loosened, and when Freya’s lips parted from Elijah’s skin, she was able to speak. “Kol’s right. The baby can only survive in an Original vampire now.”
Tears flowed anew down Rebekah’s face. “Then put it back in me.” If her child was doomed, then it could at least meet its fate in the womb of the mother who so dearly loved it.
The effect of Elijah’s blood was already beginning to wear off. Freya shuddered as the pain rose anew. She realized there was a way to avoid the dangers of Rebekah’s curse and provide the baby with the Original vampire host her magic was telling her it now required. Elijah’s arm still hung before her, dripping blood, but she did not drink. Instead, she turned her head and fixed Elijah with a look of fierce determination, jaw clenched and eyes fixed resolutely upon him.
Elijah immediately realized Freya’s intent and blinked, momentarily taken aback. Then his gaze steadied and he returned her look of determination with one of his own, inclining his head ever so slightly in assent.
Half a second later, Rebekah and Kol realized what Freya was proposing.
Kol was incredulous. “Surely that’s not possible,” he said. “Elijah’s a man, he doesn’t have the-- the bits!”
“No,” was all Rebekah said, stunned. It was almost impossible to process the idea.
Elijah was steadfast. “Do it,” he said.
“There must be another way,” Rebekah pleaded, but Freya was already beginning the chant anew. There was no time to wait for her siblings to reach a consensus. If Freya did not start the spell now, she doubted her own survival as much as the baby’s.
Freya’s desperation propelled her to make quicker work. There was significantly less magic available to her, her own reserves tapped almost to the point of nonexistence, but Elijah had been a part of the original spell, so she was not working from scratch. She focused herself completely on the spell, relaxing into Elijah’s arms, relying on his physical strength entirely to keep the both of them upright. Her eyes stared unblinking and unfocused into the distance as her lips moves inaudibly.
Rebekah buried her face in her hands and began to sob. Kol put an arm across her shoulder in comfort.
Elijah wasn’t sure the spell was working at all until he felt a strange pressure at the base of his stomach. The band of his pants grew tighter against his skin. He resisted the urge to inspect the area; he dared not move a muscle until he was certain of the spell’s completion lest he disturb some crucial element of Freya’s process or distract her in any way.
At last Freya quieted, closing her eyes and taking a deep, tranquil breath. Rebekah looked tearfully up from her hands. Elijah shifted position, finally daring to put a hand against the affected area. It was but an inch or two of protrusion, as if he had eaten too big a meal, but it was an enormous difference all the same. He nodded. The baby was safe. That was the most important thing.
Rebekah threw her arms around her sister, sobbing in a combination of fear and relief. Freya, her strength returning, smoothed Rebekah’s hair and whispered, “We’ll fix this, I promise.”
Kol looked at Elijah, then at Rebekah and Freya, then back at Elijah. He had to admit, Freya’s unorthodox solution was bloody brilliant. It was probably the single most ridiculous misappropriation of magic since their mother had turned them into vampires.
There was something else. A look of discomfort colored Elijah’s face. “You alright there, mate?” asked Kol. “You look positively green.”
Elijah suddenly dashed away at full speed towards the bathroom. Kol barely managed to get an arm out in time to prevent Rebekah and Freya from falling over. They listened, alarmed, as Elijah vomited up the combination of blood and alcohol he had consumed for lunch into the sink.
Elijah emerged from the bathroom, holding up a hand to quell their concerns. “I’m alright, it’s merely indigestion.” Then he turned back to the bathroom and vomited again.
Kol bid his sisters wait and joined Elijah in the bathroom. “Perils of a liquid diet,” Kol observed of the mess. Elijah ran the sink, rinsing and spitting the bile from his mouth as the remnants of his meal vanished down the drain.
“Probably for the best,” admitted Elijah. He hardly wanted to be responsible for exposing Rebekah’s baby to the effects of fetal alcohol. He washed and dried his hands, touching the bulge of his belly again. The bump really had been barely noticeable on Rebekah. It was much more pronounced on him. Differences in anatomy, most likely. He loosened his belt a notch to give the baby the room it seemed to need.
Kol remained standing in the bathroom door, arms crossed. “You sure you’re alright?”
“I’m pregnant,” said Elijah, testing the words aloud. “I suppose we’ll find out.”
Rebekah was waiting for Elijah outside the bathroom. Her tears were dry and her stance certain. She took a deep breath and embraced Elijah as she exhaled. “Thank you, brother,” she said. There was an immense sense of satisfaction in her voice. She could feel the baby bump as she pressed against him, situated higher than it would have been on her, but a comfort all the same.
They embraced for what seemed like an eternity, until Freya pressed the dagger into Elijah’s hand and Elijah pressed the dagger into Rebekah’s chest. Rebekah dropped into that familiar, dreamless slumber with a smile, her baby right beside her.
Author’s Note: The latter part of this scene is a reinterpretation and expansion of Hayley and Elijah’s fireside interaction: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yv6CzDktTyU
They agreed to keep it secret, especially from Klaus, whose volatile reactions could never be predicted with any accuracy. It was something of a relief. While Kol was presently being kind enough not to tease Elijah about this turn of events, it was not a kindness Elijah expected to last, and he was not sure if he could bear verbal evisceration from both of his living brothers should Klaus, too, find out.
There was one person Elijah felt compelled to share his condition with. Unfortunately, when he found Hayley, she was mid-torture session with one of the Strix vampires responsible for Jackson’s death. When Elijah attempted to halt the proceedings, she responded by removing the offending vampire’s head. It did not seem the appropriate time or venue to disclose his condition.
It was clear she was consumed by a need for vengeance and would not rest and return to Hope until every person she held responsible for Jackson’s demise had been dealt with. Elijah did the only thing he could to ease her suffering: he took her list and executed her vengeance himself.
In the process, he realized his pregnancy came with a significant problem. Every time he utilized his supernatural vampiric speed, the contents of his stomach were soon emptied in a sort of situational variation on morning sickness. He suddenly found himself the world’s most ardent practitioner of the art of the quick exit. Following any significant distance traveled at speed, he would take a moment to secure the area, check the perimeter, or investigate a sound only he could hear, then return a moment later to resume whatever task awaited him.
He didn’t just want Hayley’s support in this, he needed it. He could see no way through without her love and guidance. As he offered Marcel the head of Cortez to cover for her vengeance, he thought of how it would feel to have her close again now that this terrible business was concluded, how there would be an equilibrium between them now that their roles were so profoundly reversed.
Walking home at a human pace to avoid any nausea allowed him a great deal of time to shape an idea of coming events in his mind: how to reveal what had happened, what words to say in explanation, what feelings to share and assurances to give. Most of all, he worried how she would respond to it, and hoped she would see past the circumstance or view it as an opportunity to bring them back together. He was not sure what he would do if she rejected him.
He found her sitting by the fireside, staring into the flames, the crackle and sputter of burning wood her only company. He approached quietly. She heard him, of course. She had the gifted senses of a hybrid. He held the list of names out to her and she took it from him, unfolding it to reveal every last name crossed off.
Jackson avenged. His gift to her.
Try as he might, Elijah found himself unable to speak any of the words he had prepared for this moment. He sat down beside Hayley, unbuttoning his suit jacket in preparation. His hands hovered near the end of his tie, centimeters from the borrowed life inside him.
Hayley crumpled the list and tossed it into the fire. Her eyes were fixed upon the burning paper as it curled and smoked.
She spoke first. “I love you, Elijah. I have always loved you.”
He was suddenly aware of the throb of his own pulse in his veins, the sharp warmth of the fire’s heat on his face, the itch of the clothes he wore on his skin, and the impossibility of what he was carrying within him.
Speaking seemed to break the hold the flames had upon her and she turned and looked at him. “Jackson knew that. And he died loving me despite it.”
Elijah could not return her gaze. He could not do anything in that moment but stare, breathless and uncomfortable, at the ever-wavering flames before them.
She turned away. “And now every time I look at you, it’s like he’s right there, and I’m hurting him all over again. He died because of me, so...” Her voice cracked with grief.
No, thought Elijah, please, no. His head slowly began to shake, giving silent voice to the thoughts he could not form into words.
She continued, “Out of respect for him, I have to let you go.” Wiping her eye, she looked away from him; completely and truly away.
Though he was sitting directly beside her, he had never felt more distant from her. Even his own voice sounded far away as words finally emerged from his dry throat. “Well, that seems like the right thing to do.” He rebuttoned his jacket as he stood, partly from habit, partly to re-conceal his secret burden. A burden he now saw he would bear without her. “Though, I tried that myself. Didn’t work.”
Elijah lingered just long enough to know that was the end. Then he turned and walked away.
He found the furthest corner of the house from her and pressed himself against the faded paint, leaning into it as he slid to the floor, his every breath a quiet, anguished exhalation. It was close as he dared to a scream in this house, with its many super-sensitive supernatural denizens. He stayed like that, curled in the corner and silently screaming, until his breaths slowed and his shoulders stopped shaking and he could again hear the faint din of the city in the distance to remind him of the world outside himself.
His hands finally felt for the bump of the baby. He hugged it gently. No matter how bereft he felt at Hayley’s abandonment, he carried with him Rebekah’s hopes, dreams, and love in the form of her unborn baby. He was not alone. Rebekah and her baby were both with him.
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