KOL EXAMINED the small bottles of medication in his hands, reading the labels aloud. "Xalkori, Avastin, and Erlotinib," he muttered, his usual sharp tone muted with uncharacteristic seriousness. The names of the drugs hung in the air, weighty and unfamiliar to most in the room, but their implication was clear.

Elijah sat silently beside an unconscious Harper, his expression unreadable, though his eyes betrayed the storm of emotions roiling within. "She really is sick, isn't she?" Kol murmured, his voice softer than usual. His words seemed to echo, pressing down on everyone present. Elijah's shoulders tensed, and his gaze dropped to Harper, his usually stoic mask faltering.

"Can't our blood cure her?" Rebekah asked, her voice tinged with both hope and desperation. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her bright eyes fixed on the frail figure before them.

Finn, standing in the corner with his arms folded, sighed heavily. "Not cancer, Bex," he replied grimly, shaking his head. "Our blood can heal injuries and fight common illnesses, but this—this is far beyond that."

Rebekah's lips pressed into a thin line as she frowned. Her gaze flickered to Harper, and her voice quivered with frustration. "It's so unfair," she said, her tone carrying an edge of anger. "So... turning her wouldn't cure it either?"

Freya, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke up. Her voice trembled, thick with emotion. "No," she said, her eyes red and swollen from crying. "Vampirism won't make her better. It won't stop the cancer. She'll still be sick, and she'll still..." Freya's voice broke, and she began to shake. Finn immediately crossed the room, placing a steadying arm around her. She leaned into him, her tears flowing freely.

The room fell silent, each sibling processing the reality of Harper's condition. Rebekah's arms tightened across her chest as she fought back tears, glaring at the floor as if it had wronged her. "She didn't deserve this," she whispered. "She's been so kind to all of us, and now this?"

Elijah finally broke the silence, his voice calm but heavy with understanding. "It explains why she was so guarded about her past," he said, his gaze not leaving Harper. "She didn't want us to know. She didn't want to be treated like she was fragile."

The siblings exchanged glances, their bond as a family evident in the shared sorrow and determination etched on their faces.

"What do we do, then?" Rebekah asked, her tone conflicted. "Do we compel her to forget all of this? To walk away from us and live what's left of her life in peace?"

Elijah's head snapped up, his expression firm. "No," he said resolutely. "We can't do that to her. She deserves to make her own choice, even if it means remaining in our dangerous world."

Freya, who had calmed slightly, stepped closer to Harper, brushing a strand of hair from her face with a tenderness that mirrored her own growing attachment. "She's already at risk just by being associated with us," Freya said, her voice soft but resolute. "The least we can do is stand by her. She deserves that much."

As the siblings dispersed, Freya lingered, her eyes lingering on Harper before shifting to Elijah. She noticed the way his gaze softened when he looked at Harper, the way he seemed to carry the weight of her pain as if it were his own. Freya placed a hand on Elijah's shoulder, drawing his attention.

"Elijah," she began carefully, "I need to leave for a while. Can I trust you to look after her?"

Elijah raised an eyebrow, his expression one of mild surprise. "Where are you going?"

"I can't explain right now," Freya said, her voice steady despite the emotions swirling beneath the surface. "But I need you to promise me. Will you take care of her?"

Elijah glanced down at Harper, his resolve evident in the way his jaw tightened. "Of course," he said without hesitation. "You didn't need to ask. But what should I tell her when she asks about you?"

Freya hesitated before answering. "Tell her I had to handle some family business," she said softly. Her voice faltered for a moment. "If she chooses to stay with us after learning the truth."

The thought of Harper rejecting them—or Elijah specifically—seemed to weigh heavily on Freya. Elijah noticed and quickly reassured her. "Harper isn't the type to run away," he said with quiet conviction. "Before she fainted, she reached out to me. Even after seeing Kol and me for what we are, she didn't flinch. I'll tell her the truth if she asks. She deserves that."

Freya nodded, pulling Elijah into a brief, tight hug. "Thank you," she whispered. As she pulled away, she added quietly, more to herself than to him, "I'll find a way to save her. I won't lose her—not now, not like this."

...

As the hours passed, Harper remained unconscious, her breathing shallow but steady. Elijah sat by her bedside in the Mikaelson mansion, the faint glow of a nearby lamp casting long shadows across the room. He hadn't moved from his spot, his sharp eyes observing every rise and fall of her chest as if willing her to wake up.

Kol entered quietly, a rare seriousness in his demeanour. He leaned against the doorframe, watching his brother for a moment before speaking. "You look like you've been carved from stone, Elijah. Sitting there like a sentinel won't make her wake up any faster."

Elijah didn't respond immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady. "She's been thrust into our world, Kol, and she didn't ask for it. She didn't ask for any of this." He glanced down at Harper, his hand resting lightly on hers. "And yet, she's shown more courage than most."

Kol sighed and crossed the room, pulling up a chair. "She's tougher than she looks, I'll give her that. But we both know this world of ours... it breaks the strong as easily as the weak."

Elijah's jaw tightened. "Which is why we must ensure she doesn't break."

The brothers sat in silence for a while, the quiet punctuated only by the soft ticking of the antique clock on the wall. Finally, Kol broke the silence, his tone lighter but still tinged with concern. "You know, for all your centuries of wisdom, you're hopelessly smitten, aren't you?"

Elijah shot him a warning look but didn't deny it. Kol smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Well, at least you've got good taste. She's kind, she's clever, and—despite her obvious lack of self-preservation—she seems to like you too."

Elijah allowed himself a faint smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "She deserves far better than the chaos our lives bring."

Kol shrugged. "Perhaps. But you might be exactly what she needs right now. And before you go all martyr on me, let's not pretend you don't need her too."

Elijah's response was interrupted by a soft groan from the bed. Both brothers turned their attention to Harper, who stirred slightly, her eyelids fluttering open. Her gaze was unfocused at first, but as she blinked, her surroundings began to come into view.

"Where... am I?" she murmured, her voice hoarse.

"You're safe," Elijah said gently, leaning closer. "You're at the mansion. Do you remember what happened?"

Harper frowned, her hand instinctively going to her neck, where faint puncture marks remained. The memory hit her in fragments—the vampire, the attack, Elijah and Kol appearing just in time. Her eyes widened as she looked between the two brothers.

"You... you saved me," she said, her voice shaking slightly. "But you... you're not... human, are you?"

Elijah's expression softened, and he nodded slowly. "No, Harper. We're not. We're vampires."

Harper stared at him, her breathing uneven as she processed the revelation. "And the woman who attacked me? She was one too?"

Kol nodded, his tone unusually subdued. "She was. And she won't bother you—or anyone—again."

Harper's hand trembled as she gripped the blanket, her eyes darting between them. Despite the fear coursing through her, she couldn't deny the truth that had been staring her in the face for weeks—the sense of otherworldliness about the Mikaelsons, the things that didn't quite add up. And yet, instead of running or lashing out, she asked, "Why did you save me?"

Elijah's gaze met hers, steady and unwavering. "Because your life matters, Harper. To all of us." His voice softened, and he added, "To me."

Harper's lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. Instead, she simply nodded, her body relaxing slightly as she leaned back against the pillows. Despite the fear and confusion, there was a flicker of trust in her eyes—a fragile but undeniable thread connecting her to the man sitting by her side.

Kol stood, sensing the need to leave them alone. "I'll let the others know she's awake," he said, giving Elijah a knowing look before slipping out of the room.

Elijah turned back to Harper, his expression earnest. "You're safe here, Harper. I promise you that. And if you have questions, I'll answer them. All of them."

Harper studied him for a long moment before nodding again. Her voice was quiet but steady as she said, "I think... I want to know. About all of it."

Elijah reached out, taking her hand in his. "Then I'll tell you everything. You deserve the truth."

For the first time since the attack, Harper felt a small glimmer of reassurance. In this strange, dangerous world she had stumbled into, Elijah's presence was a constant she hadn't realized she needed. And as the night deepened, she found herself daring to hope that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't as alone as she thought.