《Bring Me To Life | The Originals (1)》Wake Me Up When It's All Over

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“There are as many nights as days, and the one is just as long as the other in the year’s course. Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness, and the word ‘happy’ would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness.” – Carl Jung.

The only sound that could be heard in the silent night time was footsteps hitting the pavement coupled with the drunken giggling of two people stumbling down the sidewalk. The stiletto highs worn by the brunette female echoed on the concrete with every off-balanced step and the man laughed loudly as he clumsily helped her stay stable, one arm wrapped possessively around her waist.

Techno dance music could be heard playing faintly in the distance as they came to a stop out the front of a townhouse apartment and the brunette woman smiled seductively as she climbed onto the bottom step unsteadily. “Are you going to come inside?”

“Hell, yeah!” the dark haired man drunkenly slurred with an overjoyed expression breaking out across his face and he staggered to the bottom of the stoop as his green eyes lit up with lust, his hands roughly grabbing her hips to bring her closer to his body.

Her giggle rippled through the air as he quickly pressed their bodies together so that she could feel each and every inch of him, her fingering into his shoulders to stop herself from tumbling over. Their warm breaths mixed together as they inched closer together, near enough that she could practically taste the stale beer on his tongue but just as their lips were about to touch he was jerked backwards. The man grunted in pain as he landed on his back on the hard concrete ground and a startled gasp left the woman’s painted red lips, her blue eyes going wide in surprise.

A man wearing a pristine suit stood over the man threateningly, his oak brown eyes narrowed at the human on the ground and he reached down to grip the other man’s shirt as he pulled him roughly up to his feet. His pupils dilated as he caught the other man’s unfocused gaze, holding it as though his next words would carry the weight of the world and pushed his thoughts onto the human as he spoke lowly in a persuasive tone, “Go home.”

The human’s eyes glazed over as he silently turned on his heel and began walking away from the stoop robotically as the woman stared after him blankly with a small sense of relief but mostly with intense aggravation.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the woman asked snappily in annoyance as she placed her hands on her hips, her head tilted to the side to look at the man so that her brunette hair fell over one of her shoulders and her lips pursed in irritation as her eyes flashed fiercely.

“Taking out the trash. I think the better question is, what are you doing, Imogen?” the man asked her pointedly as he calmly straightened his jacket sleeves, his oak brown eyes betraying the deep emotion he felt buried beyond the gentleman façade.

“I was enjoying myself, Elijah, but it seems you’ve undertaken the duty of ruining other’s people fun.” Imogen quipped drily as she shot him a glare over her shoulder, pivoting on her heel as she started climbing the stairs and uneasily gripped the cold metal railing for help so that she didn’t stumble.

Elijah’s gaze subtly drifted down the length of her body when she wasn’t looking, getting caught on the hem of her short dress that just reached the top of her thigh and he closed his eyes for a moment as he silently prayed for the strength to focus on helping her through the emotional upheaval she was experiencing.

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Lust wasn’t something new to Elijah, he was after all a man and he had experienced desire numerous times in the last 1000 years. Some women sparked only want, some women sparked only respect. And some women were a rare combination of the two. Those were the most dangerous. They had power over your body and your mind, influence over your impulses and your heart. Lust started with chemistry, but love started with respect, and together they had the ability to bring even the most stoic men to their knees.

The sound of metal jangling knocked him out of the inappropriate direction his thoughts were taking and his eyes drifted up to the top of the stoop where Imogen was standing in front of door, fumbling the keys in her hand with a befuddled expression on her face.

“Here.” Elijah whispered softly as he climbed the stairs in two long strides, gently taking the keys from her hands and she looked up at him with her lips pursed as though she wanted to protest but reframed from saying what was on her mind.

Imogen swayed slightly in her drunken state as she numbly watched Elijah unlock her front door, blinking multiple times in a row to clear her mind and ignored the Originals offered hand once he opened the door wide enough for her to walk through. Even in her intoxicated state she was prone to be unmatched in the art of independence.

The bright florescent lights of the apartment building lobby made Imogen squint as she made her way to the elevator across the room and she was acutely aware of Elijah’s presence behind her as I violently pressed the button to open the sliding doors.

“Good evening, Ms Claire.” The male human guard for the building greeted her politely as he walked by, nodding respectful in her direction and she offered a half-hearted smile as the elevator doors slid open with a quiet ding.

“You seem awfully popular. Lived here long?” Elijah asked her casually with a hint of an edge in his melodic voice as they both stepped onto the elevator and Imogen shot him a scowl as she hit the button for the top floor on the control panel.

“Long enough. Marcel owns the building. He most likely compelled or paid everyone on the staff to keep an eye on me. They treat me like I’m the one who signs their checks. Annoying.” Imogen muttered under her breath as she crossed her arms over her chest with a frown and leaned against the back wall of the elevator as it soared upwards. “Although it does come in handy when I want mint-chocolate chip ice cream in the middle of the night.”

Elijah’s lips twitched upwards in a small smile as he held back a chuckle at her nonchalant comment and he glanced at her slouched posture as she leaned against the elevators back wall in concern, worried by her lack of reaction because she normally smirked when she joked with him. A sigh escaped him as the elevator stopped at their floor, the door sliding open with a light ding and he watched as Imogen walked passed him without a glance before following after her.

The elevator opened up into a small parlour area, a plush couch to the side against the wall and a large fern in a ceramic pot in the corner, a white door with the gold plated number 12A on the far side of the room.

“Don’t bother asking why it looks like a therapist office. It’s Marcel’s passive aggressive way of supporting my career choice.” The witch murmured to him as she sauntered passed where he stood on her way to the door, her movements much less graceful than normal in her still tipsy stupor.

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“Hm. You two seem close.” Elijah replied casually as he looked around the would-be waiting room, listening to her fumble with her front door key and he looked over at her back as she made a disgruntled sound in the back of her throat. He strolled over to the lean his shoulder against the wall besides the door and smirked at the frustrated expression on her face as he asked her in amusement, “Would you like some help?”

Imogen immediately stopped trying to fit the metal into the keyhole, turning her head to narrow her eyes at him as her lips pursed and her body tensed as he shifted forward so that she could feel the warmth coming from his body. She slammed the keys down into his outstretched palm, making sure that the metal cut into his skin hard enough to draw blood and he curled his hand around them with a tight smirk on his lips as she smiled innocently.

The silence between them was tense as she watched him easily turn the key in the lock and rolled her eyes at the smugness radiating off of him when he swung the apartment door open for her to walk through.

“Arrogance doesn’t look good on you.” she commented pointedly as she held her chin up defiantly, strutting into the apartment without looking at him and he grinned slightly at her back as he entered the living room behind her.

His gaze swept around the apartment as he took note of the burgundy coloured couch to the side of the living room, along with the mismatched throw pillows and the picturesque collage hanging on the wall seemed to spark a familiarity in him as he strolled towards it with a small smile. “Is this one of Davina’s?”

Imogen looked over her shoulder at him, trying to school her expression into one of indifference when internally she was slowly cracking. Her blue eyes drifted up to the painted canvas that had been the first thing to personalise her new apartment and she sucked in a sharp breath as she willed herself not to cry about it. “Yeah. Yeah, she made it for me when I returned from Rio. Just before the Harvest. Stop being so nosy.”

“I’m not being nosy, just mildly curious.” he replied in amusement as he turned around to watched her trying to remove one of her stilettos without holding onto anything and she nearly overbalanced but he used his vampire speed to catch her around the waist before she toppled over.

A startled gasp escaped her lips when she felt the her ankle give out but then a firm arm was around her waist stopping her from hitting the ground and she grasped onto Elijah’s lapel tightly as she looked up into his concerned oak brown eyes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He responded quietly as he slowly helped her stand back up on her own two feet and she wavered slightly as he knelt down in front of her, making her frown to herself in confusion.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Lift your foot.” Elijah ordered her gently as his fingers glided along her ankle to the buckle of her stiletto, using his nimble fingers to undo the clasp and she silently complied as she slid her foot out of the shoe.

“I feel like freaking Cinderella.” She complained under her breath as her bare foot landed on the soft carpet and he chuckled at the comparison as she grasped his shoulders for balance now that she was four inches lopsided. He carefully undid the other clasp as she tried to ignore how close he was to skin, ignored the shiver that his touch caused her and she made sure to avoid looking at him as he lifted her foot out of the shoe.

As soon as Elijah let her foot drop back down onto the carpet, she jerked her hands off his shoulders as through she had been burned and she hurried over to her kitchen without looking at the vampire. She ran a hand through her brunette hair as she opened one of the cabinets over the stove and she stood up on her toes as she started searching through its contents for something specific. A satisfied sigh escaped her when her gaze landed on the bottle of Bordeaux that Marcel had given her and she smiled slightly as she brought the bottle out of the cabinet.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked her with an air of forced curiosity, hoping to disguise the concern in his voice as he watched her uncork the bottle of expensive Bordeaux.

Imogen scoffed out a laugh as she spun on her heel to face another cabinet next to the refrigerator and she glanced over her shoulder at him as she opened the door with more force than necessary. “Since you showed up and ruined my buzz, I think it’s a fantastic idea. Would you like one? Since you technically invited yourself into my apartment, the least I can do is be a good hostess.”

Elijah smiled at her without answering as she automatically set about pouring two glasses of wine and she smiled back tightly as she slid one of the glasses towards him while he sat down on one of the high stools on the opposite side of the counter. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. What are you doing here, Elijah?”

“I wanted to check on you, see how you are.” He answered quietly as his finger traced around the bottom of his wine glass and she lifted her own glass to her lips, swallowing the contents in one gulp as she turned away from his probing gaze. “How are you, Imogen?”

That was a loaded question for him to ask, one that Imogen had no idea how to answer. She could lie and tell him that she was perfectly fine, that she didn’t feel like she was falling apart inside. Or she could tell him the truth and admit that she wasn’t as strong as she made out to be. Neither of those were a veritable option for her. Elijah would be able to tell if she was lying and Imogen wasn’t going to let someone as powerful as an Original see her as weak.

Imogen lifted the wine bottle straight to her lips, keeping her gaze on the wall over Elijah’s shoulder as she swallowed a few mouthfuls and placed it back down on the counter as she licked the remnants off her lip.

Drinking had been the answer to every question since Davina had died because Imogen didn’t think she really wanted to know the answers. That’s all she was left with, questions and pain. Her queries would never be solved and she would have to settle for a lifetime of unanswered inquires, but her pain was the one thing she could control. The alcohol numbed the pain, stopped the heartache for a moment.

When Imogen woke up that morning it took her a moment for reality to crash down on her. When she first opened her eyes she was happy, looking forward to seeing Davina, but then she remembered that that would never happen again. It was agonisingly painful, like losing her all over again.

Elijah sighed to himself as he stood up from his stool, leaving his glass untouched as he strolled around to the other side of the counter and laid a hand on Imogen’s shoulder as she turned her body to face him slightly. The wine bottle was still in her hand as she started raising it to her lips once again but he reached out to stop her and gently plied it from her fingers with a shake of his head. “I think that’s enough for tonight.”

“Yeah, well, the greatest pleasure in life is doing what people say you can’t do.” Imogen stated dully as she snatched the bottle back from his hand, her blue eyes narrowed at him and she stalked passed him as she took a sip of the wine on her way into the living room.

“And what is it you’re trying to do, Imogen?”

“Finish a whole bottle of wine in half an hour. By myself. It’s a great feat I wish to accomplish. No one can say I don’t have goals.” She quipped cheerfully as she spun around on her heel with an easy grin to face him and he leaned both his hands on the counter in front of him as his oak brown eyes searched her face for something unknown. “What do you want from me, Elijah? What is it you’re looking for?”

“You’re hurting. Your sister is gone.” Elijah pointed out softly with a blank expression as he shrugged out of his suit jacket, walking around the counter slowly and her expression hardened as she watched his movements cautiously with narrowed blue eyes.

“I’m aware. Thank you.”

“Davina was everything to you.”

“Again, I’m aware. Thank you.”

“And now you’re drinking yourself into oblivion. Attempting to numb the pain of losing her.” he continued as though she hadn’t spoken a word, taking small steps closer to where she was standing in the middle of the living room with the half empty wine bottle dangling from her fingers by her side. “Although it’s a wasted effort, I’m afraid.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve always been one to defy expectations.” She informed him drily with a smirk as she raised the bottle to her lips but Elijah used vampire speed to appear in front of her and snatched the wine from her hands, throwing it towards the wall. The glass smashed into pieces as the red wine ran down the wall like blood dripping and Imogen gasped in surprise as her blue eyes went wide, her mouth parted slightly. “What the hell, Elijah!?”

“I have been through this, Imogen. And I do not want you to make the same mistakes that I made.” He told her firmly as he tossed his jacket haphazardly on the couch without taking his eyes off of her face and there was a wistful tone to his voice as his oak brown eyes clouded over with memories of the past. “They may come back to haunt you.”

The alcohol that flooded her veins transformed into fury as his words washed over her, ringing in her ears like brass church bells. Loud and unforgiving. It was an irrational anger but it gave Imogen something to grasp on to, something to help pull herself up above the water she risked drowning in.

“I am…so sick...of people…telling me…what to do!” Imogen shouted angrily as she used all her strength to push on his chest with both hands, although it didn’t have much of an impact on the Original. “All my life I’ve put up with it! My parents! The Elders! Guys I’ve dated! I am so sick of people telling me how to behave and how to act! Maybe I like being a lush. Did you ever think of that?”

Elijah just stood there in front of her silently as she curled her hand into a fist and beat it against his chest with strength he wasn’t aware she possessed, allowing her to express her feelings because he knew that she needed the outlet. Everyone handled grief differently. When Kol died he had found himself seeking comfort in bad habits, falling into a lust dazed state with Katerina Petrova and forgetting the outside world existed. He wanted to help Imogen get through Davina’s death without gaining a mountain of regret like he had and if what she needed was someone to be the focus of her anger, then so be it.

Imogen gritted her teeth painfully as she spun around from him, reached up to tangle her fingers in her hair and fought back the urge to cry because she let enough tears fall in the last few days. “I am tired of being the one who doesn’t get break down. I’m tired of being strong. Every day I put on a smile, and I act like nothing is wrong but it’s not easy. And now I have no reason to put on that smile or the act.”

Pain coursed through her as she turned around to face him, a devastated mask in place as tears filled her eyes and she tilted her head to the side as she looked at him pleadingly. Like she honestly didn’t know what to do and wanted his council on how to proceed. “Please, Elijah! I'm begging you! Give me a reason, any reason, as to why I should continue on? I have no purpose here. I have failed my sister, my daughter, my reason. The one person I swore to always protect! She is dead because I wasn't able to keep my promise. So, please! Give me a reason to live. Because I honestly can't think of one.”

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