Disclaimer : Characters belong to their respectful owners
Fandom : The Originals
Rating : K+
Pairing : Kolijah – Elijah Mikaelson x Kol Mikaelson (sort of)
Genres : fanfiction, alternate universe, humor, fluff
Characters: Freya Mikaelson, Elijah Mikaelson, Klaus Mikaelson, Rebekah Mikaelson, Kol Mikaelson, Hope Mikaelson and many others
Summary: An AU in which Kol is resurrected by Freya, in the form of… a baby.
Inspired by whatevenkol’s idea and given permission to write this story
Sometimes Elijah could not help but wonder, with a wary sense of apprehension, how much Kol remembered of his past life. Or lives, if you counted his brief days possessing the young witch Kaleb.
Freya told them that Kol’s mind had been blissfully adjusted to his physical form, meaning he would think, behave and most importantly, remember as a child and not as an ancient vampire, but even she, the caster of the spell, couldn’t be doubtless.
There were moments they caught her gazing at their brother, her eyes filled with unvoiced worry. The older Kol got – from a baby to a toddler and then a playful child that ran around the compound with preternatural speed – the more frequent and longer Freya’s mute gaze became.
It would be best if his mind had a total reboot – a pristine blank page eager to absorb the events of his reincarnated life – and matured according to his age, free and unperverted by the bloody phantoms of centuries past, but it was just too bright a scenario. One thing they knew for sure was nature had a way to mess with unnatural existences, and what was Kol’s but an unnatural existence?
Klaus, being Klaus, was the first to propose a memory-swipe as a safe measure: who knew when the old memories could surface and what havoc they would wreck on Kol’s mind. They could drive him mad – madder than his lunatic old self – and they could destroy him. Although practical and arguably what they had all thought at one point or another, his proposal was met with fiery objections from Elijah and Rebekah, at times their arguments culminating in violent blows – flesh cut open, blood spilled and countless pieces of furniture trashed, and still their issue remained. It fell on Freya to put an end to their dispute, claiming that there was no spell for such a wide and thorough memory wipeout, as the mind was sacrosanct and any small, careless act could lead to catastrophic consequences.
“We wait and see,” she concluded and so, they held their breath as each day passed and their baby brother grew bigger and bigger.
It was proven that the young Kol had much to surprise his siblings.
“Rebekah, tell me how handsome I am!”
They were scattering in the living room, one of the few quiet and peaceful moments of their tumultuous existence, doing whatever they desired or just simply passing the time when Kol rushed down the stairs with his peculiar demand.
The familiarity of the words as well as the gleeful tone gave them all a jolt.
Unaware of the tidal wave he had just brought down his siblings, Kol grinned from ear to ear as he showed them a black-and-white photograph.
The Christmas in 1914, they were throwing a party to celebrate, when Klaus and Elijah once again put Kol in a magic-induced sleep that had lasted to present day.
Their shared thought was that memory fragment had returned to Kol, and it invoked a chilling talon hooking to their spines.
“Bekah?” Kol asked, waving his hand in front of his dazed-eyed sister. “Nik? ‘Lijah? What’s with the sudden silence?”
“Where did you find it?” Elijah asked, glancing sideway at Klaus. He thought they had hidden it well; now he regretted that they hadn’t incinerated it, along with a few trinkets left behind by the old Kol. It was just photographs of their brother were so rare that he couldn’t bear to destroy any of them, especially one that had captured their scarce, precious moment as a family.
Kol looked perplexed for a second. “I found it at the bottom of the drawer. Who hid it so carefully and come to think about it, why didn’t you show it to me before?”
“Do you,” asked Rebekah with badly concealed hesitance, “remember anything that happened after this photo was taken?”
Scratching his head, Kol replied, “Not really. Am I supposed to remember anything important? I know this was I the moment I laid eyes on this figure but… that’s as far as I know. Anything else’s a big fat zero to me.”
The siblings exchanged a look that spoke volume of their relief. Were Kol not within sight, they might let out a lengthy exhale.
“Of course you looked handsome,” Rebekah said, gazing at the black-and-white Kol. “If I had to rake my brain I still couldn’t find a moment you didn’t. The dashing rouge as many said.”
“Strange, I kind of expected you would say something like you couldn’t be compelled. Say, will I look like this photo in ten years’ time?”
“Only if you had your veggies, Kol,” Klaus quipped. “And go to bed early. Otherwise your height will be stunted and you’ll end up a dwarf.”
“No way!” Kol yelped. “I looked at least the same height as you, Nik, maybe even taller!”
His rebuke elicited a few chuckles from Rebekah. “That’s because Nik refused to go to bed early, isn’t that right, Elijah?”
“How could you know that this was you?”
Kol fiddled with the photograph in his hands as he clearly struggled to answer Elijah’s out-of-the-blue question.
“I… have no idea, honestly. When I looked at it, it was some sort of nostalgia dabbled at my brain… like I definitely saw this scene before, and was in it. It’s hard to describe. I just know. Plus, I saw you, Nik and Bekah in there.”
Klaus and Rebekah didn’t even realize they subconsciously holding their breath as Elijah voiced their collective anxiety, “You don’t question why you used to be all grown up but now you’re a ten-year-old?”
“‘Lijah, you’re playing Sherlock with me or something?” Kol laughed. “I don’t remember any of this, true, but I do recall it was my choice, well, the old-me’s choice to be more exact.”
“The old-you?” Rebekah echoed.
“The old-me was a lunatic so I really can’t complain.”
Turning to Elijah, he asked, “But I’m good, right, ‘Lijah?”
“When aren’t you?”
“Except when you turned all his suits into T-shirts and jeans.”
Feigning ignorance to Nik’s comment, Kol beamed brightly. “You said if I’m good, you’ll take me to movies, don’t forget that. Now I’m going to show Hope this awesome photo.”
He ran off once he finished his sentence, leaving behind his bewildered siblings.
“Who invented this spell was a bloody genius,” Rebekah commented. “We’ve been worrying over nothing.”
While Klaus found himself nodding in agreement, muttering “Crisis averted,” Elijah had yet to let go off his frown.
Was it really nothing?
He knew it wasn’t; nevertheless, he kept that burden of a secret to himself.
This was not the first time Kol had alarmed him with fragments of resurfaced memory.
“‘Lijah, why father keeps making me practice sword? I don’t like sword.”
On the wall the grandfather clock ticked 3 o’clock when Kol appeared at the door of Elijah’s room. With snots running from his nose, Kol’s tear-stained face dealt a sharp blow to Elijah’s heart. He rushed to Kol, kneeling in front of the boy. “Tell me what’s wrong, Kol.”
“Father makes me practice sword. I don’t want to, but father’s so angry. Father will hit me. Father beats Nik so hard,” Kol cried.
A whole different kind of pain was lodged into Elijah’s chest. A déjà vu, no, a memory that was so cold it chilled him from the inside out. On some night a thousand year ago, Kol came to him and clung to his neck, muttering these same words with the same frightened expression on his young face.
“Why’s your hand so cold, ‘Lijah?”
“Where did you see Mikael? Did he come to you?”
There was no way Mikael could come back, wasn’t it? Klaus had seen to it when he drove the White Oak stake through their father’s heart years ago. The second time.
“Father’s in my dream. He’s so angry, ‘Lijah. I’m so scared.”
“It’s alright,” Elijah hushed. “He can’t hurt you now. He isn’t here anymore. I am.”
He wiped Kol’s face clean with his handkerchief and hugged him tight.
“But if I close my eyes, I’ll see him again. Can I stay with you, ‘Lijah?”
Another bout of shock hit Elijah, for this was the exact sentence the Kol of the past had said to him. Just how much memory Kol had regained, or he merely spoke them out, unaware that the structure, the words had been long imprinted in his mind which was not young as he thought.
And, like the fifteen-year-old human Elijah of the past, Elijah of today could not refuse his crying and afraid little brother. The words came out of his mouth were, he was acutely aware, the same words he had spoken millions nights past.
“Of course you can stay with me,” he assured Kol, picking the four-year-old boy up with ease. “Father will not come to you now that I’m here. I won’t allow to him to lay a hand on you.”
Tucked in and safe in his brother’s embrace, Kol was soon lulled into a peaceful sleep while Elijah wasn’t granted the same favor. He laid awake all night, listening to the rhythm of Kol’s heartbeats gradually coming to a serene pattern.
Those were music to his ears.
Since that night, Kol had made it a habit to sneak to Elijah’s room whenever to he felt the need to be enveloped in his brother’s warmth. Mikael rarely visited his dreams again, which was blissful news not only to Elijah but also to the rest of them, and taking his place was Boogeyman, Big Foot and a litany of monsters lurking under the bed that the young, imaginative minds of children were able to conjure to keep them from their sleeps. Klaus had laughed his ass off, Freya sniggered and Rebekah teased him mercilessly, yet still Kol held onto his childish fears, believing with a fervor that those monsters were far scarier than his hybrid, vampire and witch siblings. Elijah, being the big brother that cosseted Kol, said nothing of the matter as he allowed Kol to his room whenever the boy wanted.
Still, if only it was imaginative monsters that Kol feared.
There was yet another incident that Elijah didn’t dare to tell Niklaus and Rebekah.
It was a night unlike any other nights, when Kol, not bothering that his thundering footsteps might wake the entire household, ran to Elijah’s room. His eyes were red and puffy, and his face crumpled in a grimace that immediately jammed a stake in Elijah’s heart.
“Why was I on fire, ‘Lijah?” Kol sobbed. “Why did my chest hurt so?”
Later, Elijah would begrudge himself for not being able to grasp what Kol was trying to tell him that instance. He hadn’t been there the day the old Kol died. Hadn’t even been remotely near. And if he tried to pinpoint where exactly he had been, the answer came out a grievous shame. He, the supposed big brother, indulged in the carnal pleasures with the serpentine beauty Katerina for his own selfish desires while Kol had been gruesomely murdered. An alone, painful and meaningless death that could have been averted had he been there for his little brother.
He hugged the young Kol, squeezing the small body as if trying to apologize without words. “A scary dream, Kol, a nightmare,” he whispered, “don’t be afraid.”
“It’s not a dream, ‘Lijah! It felt so real.”
“But it wasn’t,” he said, picking Kol up and carrying him to the bed. “It is no more. Stay with me. You’ll be alright. You’ll be safe. I promise.”
Next he was singing, humming to be exact, a wordless lullaby their mother used to hum when a young one was awaken by nightmare. The magic was in the tune itself, not the singer, she said, and never before Elijah so wished it would work.
Some day I’ll tell you all, he promised the sleeping Kol. Everything that happened, every right and every wrong. Provided that you haven’t remembered them first.
The next morning Kol woke up without a sliver of memory of his nightmare.
(To be continued. Maybe.)