#I forgot i hate the aftermath and cleanup

[mothymayhem]

Clay,,, my enemy

[stefciastark]

Worthy ~Webpril Day 8

A/N: At almost my 4a.m, here it is! The concluding part to yesterday's little 'hidden injury' combined prompt fill. For some reason, these last two were harder for me to write, and I couldn't quite get this one to sound the way I wanted it to in my head (being sleep deprived probably hasn't helped haha). The struggles of writing sometimes - some ideas are just stubborn and don't always come out how you want them to haha Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

~Read it on AO3

~Read it on FFN

“I’m good, just a bit tired...had a big week of homework and helping Aunt May with the charity stuff y’know.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed from behind the suit’s helmet, his gaze a level of intensity usually only directed to dealing with complicated circuitry, mathematics, or playing the intimidation game with Nick Fury. Now that was some bullshit. Tony had known Peter for long enough to know that the more excuses the kid gave, the more likely it was that he was lying. Tony could practically taste the blood that Peter kept trying to subtly spit onto the pavement when he thought he wasn’t looking.

Above all, however, Tony wasn’t sure whether to be angry that Peter was trying to lie about how he was feeling and thought his biometrics weren’t being transmitted to Tony’s HUD at all times (it’s Stark technology, of course it would be), or whether he should be concerned about some form of brain damage because it didn’t seem to cross Peter’s usually so sharp and quick mind at all that his biometrics would be transmitted.

Tony decided he couldn’t watch Peter struggle with moving what were some of the lightest pieces of rubble anymore. Cutting the power to the repulsors, he landed next to where Peter was trying and failing to nonchalantly lean against the tower of debris they had begun to stack, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re done, kiddo. I’ve got it from here.”

The HUD inside the suit displayed an increase in blood pressure, which F.R.I.D.A.Y informed him was likely a result of ‘the human body’s response to acute pain.’ Tony knew Peter was a tough kid, but the way Peter moved looked stiffer than the Doombot metal corpses that were now strewn about the streets of Manhattan.

“No no, I’m good, see?” Peter returned to shifting the (smaller) pieces of rubble onto the pile. Tony had a feeling he was only continuing to wear his mask to prevent the undoubtedly pained expression on his face from telling Tony all he needed to know.

If Tony could pinch the bridge of his nose through his helmet at that moment, he would. He knew a compassionate and understanding approach should be the first port of call, but it would take the strength of a god like Thor himself to summon the patience he needed to deal with the situation at hand. He was tired, possibly mildly concussed after his skull had repeatedly hit the inside of his helmet at least eighteen times that afternoon, and he couldn’t wait for the day to be over so he could hit ‘reset’ on life and enter into the welcoming void of sleep.

Peter would have five minutes to come clean. Five minutes was about as long as Tony gave himself before his celestially bestowed patience wore out. Tony gave Peter a once-over once more as he continued to collect the smaller pieces of fragmented concrete. Tony returned to scanning the surrounding buildings for any hidden damages to the infrastructure, still making sure to keep Peter in his peripheral, his biometric data continuously updating on the top left of the suit’s inner display.

After five agonising minutes and another spike in Peter’s heart rate, Tony sighed in resignation and approached Peter. “Kid. Stop.”

Peter looked up, having taken his mask off moments before, happy to feel fresh air on his face for the first time since the fight began. Moreso, Peter was happy to have anything that felt like it restricted his already strained breathing off of his face. Tony could empathise with the feeling - experiencing an elephant sitting on your chest didn’t make the job of breathing any easier.

Peter’s expression to his instruction was one he’d seen too frequently; it was the one that bled with innocence, accompanied by the wide-eyed stare of a young Labrador puppy. “Yeah, Mr Stark?”

The helmet receded from Tony’s face so Peter was able to take in his blended countenance; it was something hovering between disappointment and barely concealed concern.

“Is there anything you’d like to tell me? Maybe...I don’t know, an injury?” Peter blanched as he felt Tony’s probing eyes drilling into his own before clearing his throat.

He began to return to cleanup duties, hoping that if he ignored the situation for long enough, it’d go away. “No, Mr Stark, everything is -” Big mistake.

Another round of Peter’s half-baked excuses and deflection were cut off as Tony interrupted. “Zip it, you’re busted. You can try to hide it from me all you want, but F.R.I.D.A.Y knows better.”

Peter cursed under his breath. Even after spending considerable time in Tony’s Spider-Suits, he still sometimes forgot about the extent of the capabilities of the technology and AI programming that came with the package. While there was no point in hiding it anymore, Peter couldn’t stop himself before he insisted, “really, it’s okay.”

“It obviously isn’t,” Tony said, unable to prevent his tone from taking on a scathing and acerbic quality. Dragging his hand down his face, he paused and took a deep breath, seeing the way Peter’s features were pinched with hurt he was trying so hard to hide. Tony had a feeling that that hurt extended beyond just the physical; it was just wrong. “Look, kid, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to hide your injuries. I mean not like it’s possible anyway, you’re wearing my suit, for one. You should’ve known better.”

Tony supposed his frustration stemmed from the fact that he felt like he was looking into a mirror. He had wanted for Peter to find that little grey area to operate in in more than one capacity, yet instead Peter was currently taking a page out of Tony’s book, and not one of the good ones. ‘Don’t do anything I would do’. Well, attempting - poorly - to conceal any and all injuries unfortunately fit the profile. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do’. Tony had to give Peter credit; that book hadn’t been opened.

“I just didn’t want to disappoint you again.” Peter saw the way Tony almost imperceptibly flinched as soon as the word ‘again’ left his lips. Chewing on his bottom lip momentarily and stopping when he tasted blood, Peter waited for Tony’s response. The silence persevered and Tony didn’t offer one.

Peter couldn’t quite tell what was going on beneath the surface with his mentor. At times, Tony was able to make himself so unreadable that it made Peter both envious and afraid. Envious, because Peter hated the way he was such an open, easily read book at times, and afraid for the aftermath of whatever Tony kept repressed under the surface. It was like a game of Russian Roulette, except Peter sometimes wondered which he’d really prefer; Tony’s disapproval or the actual bullet.

“I…” Peter continued, fixing his eyes on one particular pigeon feather that was floating in circles just in front of his left foot. He found himself pouring out his latest insecurities against his own will; at least he told himself it was against his will and that it was the pain’s fault. “I don’t feel like I belong with you guys. You’re all older, you’ve seen more stuff, battled more aliens and wizards. You all know what you’re doing and here I am, the young kid from Queens who doesn’t really deserve his place next to the Avengers.”

Silence.

Before Peter could react to the shadow that started to loom over him, he felt himself being pulled into a not-too-tight embrace that managed to expertly avoid his sore spots. He couldn’t help the tears that prickled at the corners of his eyes and fought to keep them from flowing over.

“Just so we’re clear on a couple of things. First, none of us know what we’re doing, get that out of your head. Second, you’re every bit worthy of being here.”

The sound of propellers were suddenly very close, and Peter wondered how on earth he’d missed them altogether.

“Third, get in the helicopter. I don’t want to hear a single complaint about it, kapeesh? We’re taking you to medical.”

A/N: Tomorrow's prompt is going to be quite an interesting one to fill. Tomorrow's prompt fill might also be a little bit later than usual. I've got quite a lot on my plate approaching the weekend, so worst-case scenario, I'll update twice in one day ;) Definitely going to try not to let that be the case though :) x Thank you for your continued support and encouragement!

[theemmataylor]

A Frozen Medley || Sebastian, Gaston, Emma, Evelyn, Alaric, and the Mikaelson Brothers

I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI | XII | XIII | XIV | XV | XVI

When it was Gaston's turn to take the extra ammo and reload, he winked at Kol. "Thank you, darling," he said, his voice casual, but his hands quick and deft. "Now, get back down there." He glanced at Sebastian's leg and his lips thinned slightly, but then he got back to work. "Moran, care for me to provide a distraction? If I get onto the porch roof, it's a bit lower than this, I could feign distress as if I want to get down, perhaps that would draw a few more into the open for you?"

--

When Elijah was given the message, he keyed the mic again. "Our hunters prefer that everyone stay indoors, for efficiency's sake, but thank you for the offer."

"You've got it. I'll call Ed. Signing off this channel, back once I have contact with him... Anything you want him told?"

"Our departure time may be somewhat delayed, we have an injury to deal with."

"Medevac?"

"I don't think so."

"Okay. I'm going to tell him to wave off and land in deeper water if he still sees those cute boys on the roof, somewhere the wolves can't come mess with him. He can taxi in when you're ready."

"You're a dear."

"Don't tell the hunters." The air went dead.

Elijah looked over at Emma, then smiled and shook his head at her. "Emma, you are quite the remarkable woman. Just what was it you heard this morning, incidentally?"

"Of course he acts like we're not in the middle of a bloody war-zone," Niklaus muttered, amused but annoyed at Elijah's overly calm demeanor, although he understood it.

Sebastian figured the scent of his blood would draw the wolves, but Gaston seemed to be the only one the sniper was willing to take suggestions from and he nodded, preparing himself for the attacks that were about to come.

At least the pack was starting to thin. They should be done before too long, surely.

"LeFevre?" Sebastian said in a gruff voice. "Don't be an idiot." By that he meant, be careful.

--

Emma smirked at the voice over the radio and then seemed to relax back to where she'd been sitting, still taking notes.

"I... don't know what it was. It woke me. Might have been scratching on the side of the building. And I know I heard a howl. This place is... a little creepy."

Kol smirked at Nik and finally met his eyes for a brief moment. "Elijah could have lost his leg and would still be cracking jokes."

"Depends on which of his three legs he lost," Nik returned, glancing slyly over at Alaric before he looked at Emma, who he had been filming for the last few moments.

--

"Yessir," Gaston replied, as he looped a rope around his waist. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and made a little yelp sound, then slid down to the lower roof where he landed flat on his stomach -- intentionally, although it looked like an accident. He froze at first, then made a show out of scrambling to try and find his footing, remaining on hands and knees...

Which drew out the one wolf who had been holding back.

Head lowered, a much larger, more heavily muscled creature came out, her lips pulled back in a snarl as she sniffed towards Gaston. He scrabbled, knocking snow and ice chips off the roof, and let his foot dangle over for just a moment --

The wolves forgot about Moran as the alpha redirected their focus to the frightened, awkward prey. After studying the distance to the roof for a moment, she tensed and prepared to leap -- then launched herself into the air with a single, powerful thrust.

Gaston told himself not to be afraid, even though the moment she had looked up at him, he'd realized she could do it. She could make it up here --

But she didn't know what Sebastian Moran was capable of, or how quickly he could react.

Sebastian had kept silent, holding his fire, waiting to see what would happen. But when that beautiful, terrible creature leapt, Sebastian couldn't help but marvel for a split second.

Then he fired.

Sebastian knew that if he hadn't shot her at such close range and square in the chest, if he had had to shoot her at a distance, she might not have been killed by the bullet.

When she went down, though, the pack seemed to circle in around her.

The sniper kept shooting.

--

Ric had met Nik's gaze and smirked, awkward as he may be. "Yeah, well, at least there is evidence that he'll need that third leg in the near future."

One shot seemed to turn into more and more, and Nik went quiet and pale. He hated guns. If he was going to shoot anything, it would be from behind one of his many cameras; the sound felt like a brutal assault and he was glad not to be one of the hunters.

Elijah dropped his forehead into his hand and rubbed at it, looking deeply sad, but patient.

-

As soon as he felt safe doing so, Gaston joined Moran in opening fire. One of the wolves got away -- just one. It raced away out into the wilderness, tail tucked, looking back over its shoulder from time to time with terror in its eyes. Gaston would have fired at that one as well, but by that point, he was out of ammunition again. It was up to Moran, if he had a shot left, or one wolf would live to tell the tale.

"Fuck," Gaston swore, and sighed heavily as he lost sight of the retreating one.

Sebastian could make the shot. He knew he could. But the creature wasn't attacking. This place would smell of its fallen pack for long enough that Seb hoped there wouldn't be an issue for the townsfolk later.

"I'm going to regret letting it go," he muttered, helping Gaston up, then looking around at all the carnage.

Grabbing the other rope, he let himself down, then watched as Gaston did the same. "We need to move the bodies. Nobody needs to see this."

Sebastian entered through the front doors, seeing the crowd. "It's safe. We're going to take care of the aftermath. If any of you feel willing with a strong enough stomach, we will take help with this. The pack was large."

"I'll go," Ric volunteered.

Kol followed after him, already having dressed by this point. Emma stood, and she looked as if she were going to as well, but Sebastian stopped her. "Ma'am. You can hate me for being sexist all you want. But this carnage out here... I would rather you stayed inside." He felt her start to turn against him, could see it in her eyes. "Please."

She huffed but nodded. "Fine."

"Wait," Elijah called out. "Rare as it is this far north, there have been cases of rabies before in the arctic. These wolves seemed healthy enough, from what I saw, but any unusual behavior should always be considered a red flag. It's unlikely they have any illness, but we need to handle the bodies as if they do -- and we need a sample of brain tissue."

Nik gave Elijah a dark look. "You're kidding."

"Blood, brain, and saliva. I'll get them when the moving is done. But please, everyone, treat the corpses as if they're toxic. Emma, can you put out the radio call to the town that the shooting should be over, and help moving bodies outside of the town would be appreciated? Also, there's a radio call-sign and frequency directory on the desk. Can you look through and try to find a way to contact the local wildlife department? This should be reported. They may not be able to send anyone for days, but..." In all honesty, the bodies would still be there. Burying them wasn't an option, there was no spare fuel up here to burn them with, but they could at least get them sent out of town. "And see if they can give you the information for exactly where I can send our sample to, with the next pilot returning south. It may be tedious, but it's important."

Elijah nodded that the others could go, but he put his hand on Moran's arm, and his eyes were ice-cold. "Your leg is injured," he said, "and you will let me care for it now, before going out to examine and move bodies. Unless you'll be returning south to a hospital, I cannot, will not risk the safety of this expedition by letting you increase your already high chances of infection." This didn't sound negotiable in the slightest. "Gaston will guard the others. You. Sit there." He gestured to the chair by the water and the medical kit.

Before any of them headed out, Alaric checked a couple of the cabinets until he found gloves. They were mediums, and likely wouldn't fit comfortably on all of their hands, but it was enough that maybe they could avoid coming into direct contact with any of the creatures. "The alpha," Sebastian said, glaring at Elijah but there wasn't much force behind the stare, "The alpha should be just off of the front porch. She was huge. The shot is in her chest. Save her for your samples."

As Emma moved to the desk to make the call that Elijah had instructed her to make, Sebastian moved to the chair indicated, barely limping. His adrenaline was still pumping too hard, too fast, for him to be able to really feel anything. Without pardoning himself in front of the woman -- she would likely see plenty of mostly, if not fully, nude men in the month to come -- he kicked off his boots and peeled away his pants, then his coat followed.

It took Emma some searching before she found the number for the wildlife department, and then she made that call next. The man who answered sounded half asleep, and relatively bored with the report of wolves. "No, you don't understand," she insisted. "There were... God. A dozen or more?" She was just going off the shots fired. "Maybe two. And they closed in on our hotel. We had two shooters on the roof. This town is... Please, just come for the cleanup. We're working to move the corpses out of the way, but they shouldn't stay there." Obviously.  "No, I know you're busy. I know this area is prone to such wildlife. But if their scents and there blood will attract larger animals, don't you think you should freaking come and clean it up sometime before winter sets?" It had been a mistake, she felt, to first tell him that she wasn't a local. But eventually it seemed evident that they would be out by the time the week closed to collect the bodies.

When she was finished with the call, she moved over to stand at Elijah's shoulder. "Can I help?"

"Wild animals do tend to bite," Elijah said dryly. He had put long surgical gloves on and had Moran's leg in the garbage can, washing it thoroughly with soap. "But hopefully this one won't sink his teeth into me..." He glanced quickly up at Emma, a playful light in his eyes, before immediately focusing back on cleaning Moran's leg.

"Help would be wonderful. Please go get a clean bath towel, the unopened roll of paper towels from under the bathroom sink, then put on gloves -- the blue ones there should be fine for you -- and I'll ask you to hand me things as they're needed." He glanced up at Moran next, meeting his eyes as he continued working. "We do have the antibiotics your medical statement said are safe for you, you should start them. I'll get your wounds washed, then irrigated, and make sure there's nothing still in them.. but I should be able to stitch most of these. I can numb the area; we have enough to numb four limbs on this trip. Are you comfortable with me doing that?"

His hands continued working as he talked to Moran, careful and deft; this wasn't Elijah's first time with a severe wound, not by a long shot. After another moment, he added: "Thank you, by the way, Moran; your skill and dedication are deeply appreciated, especially in such an unusual situation. It sounds as if the wolves knew we were in here -- Emma, would you tell  him what you heard?"

Emma had snorted a laugh. As a writer, she loved puns, and could greatly appreciate Elijah's wit. But then it was back to business and she rushed off to get the items she'd been ordered to get and then returned as quickly as possible.

Sebastian watched the pair, impressed that they were so comfortable seeming with each other after only meeting less than twelve hours before. But his eyes lingered on Elijah. The touches were gentle enough. Skilled.

"Please don't waste one of your doses on me." The sniper's voice was kinder this time. Quiet. He reached for the basic medication and then took it with the water that Emma was already offering. "I've been in worse scrapes than this. Stitches... They're fine. Just be quick about it." They would be gone for a month. One dose per week. He didn't want to risk anything. Besides, he had no intention of not being able to use his leg between now and boarding the plane.

"Mikaelson," he said after some time, still unwilling to thank the man in return. "I understand why you did what you did. But next time. If LeFevre and I leave instructions to stay inside, then I need you to stay the bloody hell inside." Seb never once raised his voice, but the demand was as conversational as could be.

He couldn't be worried about the rest of them. He couldn't be worried about them when dealing with the unpredictability of wild animals.

"I understand, at least as much as someone in my position can understand, but I do want to remind you that I care whether you live or die, Moran. If I have reason to believe -- and by reason, I mean experience and logic -- that I can offer you vital help without creating another distraction whose safety you need to fret over, I will. It is your job to see that we survive any attacks, and much as it pains me to say... I'll let you die before I force you to fail at that job by letting my life be lost instead... Your life still matters."

When he was done washing it, Elijah took off his gloves and pushed the bin out of the way. He opened the paper towels, had Emma lay the towel over his lap, then made a thick pad of paper towels over it. That done, Elijah had Sebastian put his leg on his lap, he put on fresh gloves -- they had well more than enough, this wasn't a supply they needed to skimp on, not yet, not when it came to handling Sebastian safely, for the sniper's sake -- and he got to work. The irrigation took time, but he carefully cleaned out and examined each wound, asking Emma to aim a flashlight and hold the magnifying glass when needed.

The plane landed while they were working, but Elijah didn't hurry the effort at all.

"What is your take on the wolves' behavior, Moran?" He had started the sutures, using his fingers to create a gentle pressure that alleviated some of the pain of the process. "As a hunter and a warrior -- how did their behavior towards you feel?"

Sebastian's jaw clenched but he didn't make any noise. He watched the cleaning, the stitching, and then when the men finally came in. He lifted a brow. They were finished quicker than he'd expected.

"At least five others came out to help us. The town is a fucking mess." Kol stated simply, his hands were freezing but otherwise they were all in fair condition. "I'm going to go take a hot shower. Shouldn't be more than five minutes. Then we'll start pulling things from the rooms for the plane.”

When the group passed through, Sebastian went back to Elijah's question. "I don't know what to make of it. This pack is larger than any one I've seen. These wolves were... large. When I shot the first one, I wasn't entirely sure that they weren't some kind of cat. But the tails were clearly wrong. And then... I don't know. They were too smart, too big, for their own good."

"Did they, at any point, display a fear of your firearms?"

Sebastian looked up at Gaston. "It's like they kept expecting them to... I don't know... Become useless? The only one that showed any inclination of fear was the one I let run off." I still bet I will regret that. "And I think that was only because we had killed its alpha."

That sent a chill through Elijah. "They -- knew the guns were dependent on ammunition? If Emma hadn't thought to get more bullets for you two... I wonder what they would have done next."

Gaston had just come in and, hearing that it was Emma who sent the bullets up to them, he gave her a brief and appreciative look before eyeing Moran's leg. He said nothing, but patted him once on the shoulder as he moved past, going to pack up their things.

Nik, still filming of course, asked: "So the wolves were stalking the hotel this morning... extra large, extra smart wolves, who weren't afraid of guns? Who understood them? Forgive me, but that's a bit worrisome."

"A bit," Elijah agreed.

Emma had been quiet save for trying again to explain to Sebastian that she hadn't understood exactly what she had heard that morning but the only way she could explain the sounds from her own experience.

Her eyes lifted to meet Gaston's and she smiled weakly, shyly. Then adjusted the light once more to follow Elijah's hands.

"I'm just... glad we hadn't been on our way to the plane and not known they were there."

"That wouldn't have happened. I will always go out first," Sebastian practically interrupted, though he seemed to look at her with an expression that was more reassuring than the scolding his tone seemed to take.

"Oh. Right. Well... You seemed like you were going alone?"

He smiled softly. "You did good, kid. Always report strange noises."

She didn't know why it made her feel better, but it did.

Kol finished with his shower quickly, finally warming up a bit, and then went straight to their room to dress and pack. This distraction had been... nice. Welcome. But he needed to get out of this hotel.

"Nik, why don't you go help our brother?" Elijah didn't look up from what he was doing.

Nik opened his mouth to object but he knew he didn't have a good reason. He shut the camera off, pursed his lips, then trailed ghostlike off after Kol. Slipping into the room with him, he shut the door behind them.

"Kol....?"

For some reason he had known Nik would end up in there with him, and so Kol managed to keep his expression neutral. He turned to face his brother, swallowing the newest wave of nausea from this hangover.

"How do you feel?" he asked quietly.

"You mean about the alcohol? Or about you?"

Kol's mouth opened and closed and he struggled to meet his brother's stare. "You remember."

Nik swallowed hard. His chest hurt suddenly and he was holding too tightly to the camera, so he stared down at it. "I remember...  Kol... you... I should tell you this, before we go north. I..." There had to be a way out of this conversation. He could find something to get angry about, or work for them to throw themselves at in complete denial -- but this was his brother. Could he do that to his brother?

Under less dire circumstances, yes, but this... is important.

"You should know that I've been -- a terrible brother to you. Last night.. wasn't by any means the first time I'd thought about -- such things. And not always drunk."

Kol's stomach twisted and he didn't know what to say. He and Nik rarely had deep conversations. They were reckless and usually the two children Elijah had to reign in in order to get them to take a situation seriously.

With a sigh, he set his clothes on the end of their cot and then stepped closer to Niklaus. "What... So you..." He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed again. "How long?"

"The last year-ish. But I won't -- act on... I won't try to -- make you do -- that -- again. After this shoot, I'll quit. I don't want to be... to cause trouble between you and Elijah. Or to take advantage of you." Nik closed his eyes tightly and took a slow breath, then looked at Kol. "Can you forgive me...?"

Kol was shaking his head before Niklaus could finish speaking. "You will not fucking quit," he demanded, eyes colder now. His thick brows pulled together and he looked at his brother as less of a... well, brother.

"Kiss me," he said, no hesitation in his voice. "Now that we're sober." I want to know if it feels as good as it did last night. "Kiss me again, Niklaus."

For a moment, Nik was sure that all of the air had passed out of the room. He stared at Kol, barely able to comprehend, before he set the camera aside and stepped forward. Taking Kol's face in his hands, he kissed him with all of the desperate affection and need he knew how to show. This might be the last time he ever got the chance to do this, to show Kol just how truly depraved he himself was, to show Kol how truly wonderful he found Kol to be. Nik wasn't usually one to make grand gestures or first moves, but when it was important, it was important.

At first Kol was skeptical. He wasn't sure that his memory of the night before was genuine. It had felt good; he wasn't about to deny that. But had the same... sentiments been there as what he imagined would be. He didn't hold Nik in return. He didn't initially kiss him back.

But then he felt it. And he melted.

One of Kol's arms went around Nik's waist, pulling him closer. He couldn't hate his brother, he remembered promising that, but he didn't know that he would... be this willing. This accepting of something that so many would be disgusted by. After a moment, his lips parted he tried to return all of the affection he felt from Niklaus. It was vital his brother knew that he was loved. Perhaps in more than just a familial way.

Afterwards, Nik looped his arms around Kol's shoulders and closed his eyes, resting his head against Kol's shoulder as well. "We needn't be anything we cannot be," he said softly, a deep, almost pastel-feeling sorrow in his voice, "I know it is wrong to be so drawn to you... but I cannot... trust anyone who isn't part of our family, Kol. And you, you are... you always seem to understand me. I need you."

There were far more passionate words he wanted to say, but he couldn't. He couldn't. They refused to move past his lips and he just hoped, standing silent and still now, that Kol could understand at least part of it, that somehow his hands or his lips or the subtle way his hips seemed to press into Kol's, somehow something would tell Kol that he was the one Nik needed.

I don't know that I can do this.

Kol held tighter to his brother and rested his head on Niklaus' temple, closing his eyes. He wanted to give this a chance. He wanted to give in to the things he felt. He wanted to kiss Niklaus again. But he didn't know if he could sleep with him again. How could he? They were brothers. Family.

But it had felt amazing. Perfect. Like he knew everything I could possibly want.

"I'm here," Kol said finally. "I'm here, Niklaus. I'm not going anywhere." He pulled away enough to kiss Nik's forehead and then rested his cheek against the same spot. "And it's not as if we'll have any privacy over the next month. Let's just... get through this, yeah? Then we'll figure the rest of it out. Together."

Nik nodded and squeezed him again. He knew that he would never really be the one who would have a chance, he wasn't Elijah, but Kol could have been so much colder to him, so much angrier.

"We ought to pack."

--

"Wasn't there someone you needed to call?" Gaston asked Sebastian after he brought their packs out of their room and set them down. He looked at the leg, but it seemed that Elijah was almost done with the suturing. Enjoying the show, Gaston sat down and leaned forward to take in the details, although he was sure to stay out of Elijah and Emma's way.

Sebastian shrugged. "Montparnasse, yeah. He's the one who... Anyway. I was just going to check in. We haven't the time now. I can check in when we land."

He watched Gaston with a light smile on his lips, entertained that his own stitches were becoming some source of entertainment. Emma had looked up at the other man, feeling his presence. "Um... Gaston? Do you mind holding the light and magnifying glass? So that I can finish gathering my things and be out of Elijah's way when he's done?"

Gaston nodded to her and got up, coming around to her side. He took them carefully, and once she was gone, he sat down in her place. "Look at you, Moran, a mess. A complete mess. Washed your leg in a trashcan, hm? Seems about right." He gave his partner a warm smile, but it quickly sobered.

"You saved my life today, Moran. More than once. Thank you. I know you don't like a great deal of gushing but all the same... while Elijah has you captive... I'm deeply grateful. I owe you."

Elijah's eyes had flicked up in recognition at the name Montparnasse, but it was a subtle thing, easily missed, and he quickly refocused.

Sebastian shrugged at the gratitude, not knowing how to receive it. "I feel the debt was more than repaid, Gaston. I wouldn't have survived today had you not been there. You have an excellent shot. Thank you."

Emma returned quickly, having only stayed over night the once, and she left her luggage in an open spot by a chair, tucking her pen and notepad into a side pocket and then returning to watch as the final stitch was put in place.

"Thank you, Elijah," Sebastian said, looking up just as Alaric was lugging out the last of the equipment. "You're too skilled at that, I hope you know. But I appreciate the attention you gave. Let's wrap it and get going. That plane won't wait forever."

Elijah hummed a soft you're welcome and didn't change his pace. He got Sebastian's leg wrapped up once he was completely done with it, then helped him get back into his trousers before taking out one last thing -- a small glass bottle and a syringe.

"The odds of a rabies infection are low, Sebastian, but it's still possible. This isn't something I'll force on you, but I want you to know that without the vaccine, if you begin to show symptoms of rabies, it will be too late. You will die. This is your choice. I would prefer to give you the vaccination, but I cannot force it on you."

"So, no pressure, love," Nik said, walking out and lugging the first round of his gear. He had the most and the heaviest, thanks to all of his camera equipment, but he didn't mind.

Sebastian nodded in regards to the vaccination. There was no point in risking this. This had nothing to do with his pain tolerance.

Kol followed his brother out with a few bags, some of them Nik's, and happened to meet Sebastian's eye. Something... Something in the way that the gunman looked at him made Kol convinced that Moran knew what had happened the night before. But that didn't make any sense. They had been quiet, right?

Emma stood when the two brothers came out and began setting things down. "Can I help with anything?" She looked at Nik. "I don't have equipment like you all do, but I am happy to carry anything you guys need help with."

Kol looked to his brother, letting him decide if he wanted help or not.

The clerk showed up then and started talking to Alaric about everything that had happened with the wolves. She shamelessly flirted with him, despite being at least twenty years older, and a sense of normality seemed to return. Nik looked at them for a moment, then back at Emma. For a moment, he wanted to say no, but instead he just smirked and gave her a one-handed 'be my guest' gesture.

"Any help is appreciated. I only have nineteen tons of supplies -- and then Alaric has all of the food, sound gear, and pieces of camp in his hutch."

Emma beamed at him, happy to be able to be helpful. She liked Niklaus. He was handsome. And he was kind to her. A little flirty, but it never seemed inappropriate.

She headed in the direction of the room and started grabbing bags.

Alaric, meanwhile, flirted back lightly, but ultimately he was just being friendly. His eyes kept drifting over to Elijah. He wanted more from the day before. He wanted to hug Elijah and tell him to try not to be stupid again.

--

Eventually, everything was gathered. And the group was as ready to go as they were going to be. Sebastian managed to find a shirt and sweater to wear under his coat.

"Is anybody else ready to get the bloody hell out of this town? After wolves like that, how bad can the bears be?" Kol smirked and bumped into Niklaus, trying to keep things easy between them. "How long is our flight?"

Elijah had left most of his clothes behind -- the direct opposite of Niklaus, who had one  duffel devoted entirely to thick, fluffy, ridiculously warm garments. He needed them, never seeming to quite give off Elijah's level of heat. By this time, Elijah was dressed how he would be for much of the shoot, in a genuine Inuit suit. Nik smirked at him in it.

"About three hours," Nik said, and bumped back into Kol. "Elijah looked quite silly. I don't know how our dear brother manages to keep warm in those rags... Perhaps we'll just have to always give him more to carry." He knew his brother would be perfectly fine, but he liked to give Elijah a hard time about it all the same.

Gaston fussed a little over Sebastian when no one was looking, making sure he was warm enough, that he didn't try to carry anything yet, and that he didn't over-exert himself, but he at least had the kindness to be quiet about it. Still, by the time they finished loading the plane and boarded it, he was relieved that Sebastian was able to get off of his leg for a while and just relax, even if it was only three hours.

Once the plane was off the ground, Nik was filming again, and he made Alaric set up a boom to handle the noise of the engines. He started with Elijah, who was sprawled on top of a pile of gear -- much the same as the rest of them, but Elijah simply looked the most ridiculous. "Tell our viewers, Elijah. What are you wearing and why, why in God's name do you insist on looking like a murdered seal?"

Elijah sighed at him but began explaining the traditional Inuit garb all the same. He also explained that he used furs instead of a normal down sleeping bag, which got more smirks from Niklaus, who never tired of their brother's eccentricities. Still, he knew there was something to it, especially as the weather got colder and colder; Elijah always seemed comfortable, and was the only one who hadn't had hypothermia yet -- nor did his sleeping bag collect ridiculous amounts of ice simply from the condensation caused by body heat in the down. Still, he forced Elijah to go into history, culture, physics, and aesthetics all in one go before he started filming the others.

After pestering Elijah, he made everyone talk about what had happened that morning -- starting with Emma, who he termed to be 'quite possibly the savior of the day.' Nik seemed to be in an almost inexplicably good mood.

When he got to Sebastian, he asked: "Sebastian Moran. Man of mystery. Will this documentary be the first time you actually speak to the camera on purpose? Inquiring minds wish to know."

Alaric fell more in love with Elijah as he spoke, though this wasn't new information to him. The air of the crew seemed strangely light considering what had happened.

Emma said only as much as she knew, and didn't embellish anything the way anybody else did. Her voice was quiet and she gave an incredibly shy smile. She was a writer. She so much preferred to be out of the line of the camera.

Though, when the camera landed on Sebastian, he looked up but didn't speak, knowing that in a game of wills, this man would not win.

Nik gave Moran a full minute before chuckling and awkwardly crawling around the plane to get more shots. Eventually, though, he went and settled down and took a nap with his head on Kol's lap.

Once Nik settled, Elijah did as well. He always seemed to be relaxed, but now that the atmosphere was getting quieter, he went and leaned against Alaric and closed his eyes for a few minutes -- until Gaston spoke up.

"So, is anyone going to say werewolves?"

Elijah huffed.

Kol's fingers carded through Nik's hair and he didn't care how affectionate it looked. He didn't care if it made anybody uncomfortable. He couldn't not touch him.

Alaric kissed the top of Elijah's head and nuzzled him. He was just about to whisper something when Gaston spoke up. He snorted a laugh. Again, he was about to say something, but Sebastian beat him to it.

"Not the first time rumors of such has popped up. But if they were werewolves..." We just killed a small village of people. "They didn't have much awareness. Some. They understood guns. But Elijah yelling at us didn't seem to affect them."

His tone was completely serious.