HARPER SAT upright on the bed, her wide eyes scanning the room as she processed the gathered Mikaelsons—Kol, Rebekah, Finn, and Elijah—all standing around her. She pointed at them, her voice steady but tinged with disbelief. "Vampires. All of you."

Kol leaned casually against the wall, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You're surprisingly calm about all this, Harper. Usually, humans lose their minds, screaming 'MONSTER!' or 'FREAK!'" He threw his arms up dramatically, eliciting a laugh from Harper that she quickly stifled with her hand.

"Considering," Harper replied, a small smile playing on her lips as she glanced between Elijah and Kol, "you both saved me, and none of you have ever tried to... uh... drink my blood? Is that what you'd call it?"

Kol's grin widened. "Or suck you dry," he teased, earning an immediate slap on the arm from Rebekah.

"Kol!" she scolded, though a small smile tugged at her own lips.

Harper let out a nervous chuckle, her gaze drifting toward Elijah. "Where's Freya? She's been... well, she's always around."

Elijah's expression darkened slightly, and he lowered his gaze before replying. "Freya has gone away for a while."

Harper's smile faltered, her brows knitting in concern. "Did I... did I do something wrong?" she asked, her voice trembling. The moment her heart rate spiked, every vampire in the room tensed, their heightened senses attuned to her distress. Elijah was at her side in an instant, kneeling before her.

"No," he said firmly, his voice gentle but resolute. "No, Harper. Freya had urgent business to attend to, but I promise you, it has nothing to do with you."

He reached up, his hand brushing against her cheek, his touch soft and reassuring. Harper's breath hitched at the unexpected gesture, but she didn't pull away. Unbeknownst to her, the other Mikaelsons exchanged knowing looks. Elijah's affection for Harper was undeniable, and while it warmed their hearts, it also weighed heavily on them. They all knew the tragic truth: vampirism couldn't cure cancer.

Kol, sensing the tension, cleared his throat and approached with a bag in hand. "Oh, Harper," he said, his tone uncharacteristically serious. "Your phone went off earlier. I, uh, think it's time for these." He handed her the bag, and Harper froze, her eyes widening as she stared at it.

The bag contained her medications—Xalkori, Avastin, and Erlotinib. Harper's stomach churned as she realized they now knew her secret, something she had hoped to keep from them for as long as possible.

"Oh," was all she managed to say as she took the bag from Kol's hands, her gaze fixed on the floor.

Elijah, ever perceptive, spoke softly. "You didn't tell us because you didn't want us to see you as fragile. I understand that. And I promise you, Harper, none of us will treat you that way."

Harper's head snapped up, tears pooling in her eyes as she met Elijah's earnest gaze. She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you."

Rebekah stepped forward, her tone warm but authoritative. "By the way, I brought your belongings here. This will be your room from now on." She motioned toward a neatly packed bag in the corner.

Harper frowned, confusion evident on her face. "But... the shop—"

Elijah interrupted gently. "The shop isn't safe without Freya to reinforce the protective barriers. You'll stay here until it is."

"Barriers?" Harper asked, tilting her head in curiosity. "Is that something vampires can do?"

Kol chuckled. "Not exactly. Freya isn't a vampire; she's a witch. An immortal one, actually. It's a bit of a long story, but we can save that for later."

Harper crossed her arms, her brows furrowing in thought. "So, if there are witches and vampires, does that mean werewolves exist too?"

Elijah's lips twitched into a faint smile. "Yes. Niklaus, our brother, is a hybrid—part vampire, part werewolf. His wife, Keira, is a werewolf as well, and she serves as our family's protector."

Harper blinked, her mind reeling. "If you'd told me this a few years ago, I'd have thought you were all completely insane."

"Understandable," Rebekah said with a soft laugh.

Harper leaned back against the pillows, her arms folding around herself. The weight of everything—the truth about the Mikaelsons, her illness, and her own precarious place in their world—pressed down on her. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, she felt something else: a burgeoning sense of belonging, of being part of something larger than herself.

"I guess," she said quietly, a small smile tugging at her lips, "I'll just have to get used to a whole new reality."

Elijah, still kneeling beside her, reached for her hand. "You're not alone in this, Harper. We'll face this reality together."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Harper allowed herself to believe him.

Harper's heart fluttered at Elijah's words, and for a moment, the weight of her illness seemed to lift, if only slightly. She took a deep breath, steadying herself as she squeezed his hand, feeling the warmth of his reassurance.

Elijah's eyes softened as he continued to hold her gaze, his presence steady and unwavering. "You've been through so much already, Harper. And we'll make sure you don't have to face anything alone." His words were a quiet promise, one that Harper wasn't sure she could fully believe, but she wanted to. She wanted to trust that she wouldn't have to carry this burden on her own.

Kol, sensing the tender moment between his brother and the human, stepped forward, his tone a bit lighter than it had been. "Well, I suppose if we're all going to be stuck with each other, we might as well make the best of it, right?" He flashed a grin at Harper, and despite everything, she couldn't help but chuckle.

"I guess so," Harper replied, wiping a tear from her cheek, a reluctant smile breaking through.

Rebekah, ever the practical one, took a step toward the door. "I'll make sure your room is ready. You're welcome to stay as long as you need." She looked at Harper with kindness, her usually confident demeanour softened by the vulnerability of the situation. "You'll be safe here, Harper. No one will hurt you."

Harper nodded gratefully, but a part of her was still wary. As much as she wanted to believe they were offering her protection, the world she had known, the life she had led, seemed so distant now. It was hard to accept that this—being surrounded by immortals, by creatures of legend—was her new reality.

Kol winked at her before following Rebekah out of the room, leaving Elijah and Harper alone in the quiet.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence stretching between them. Harper's mind buzzed with a thousand questions, yet she didn't know where to start. It was as if the world she had known no longer existed, and she was standing on the edge of something far bigger than herself.

Elijah's voice broke the stillness. "Harper, if you ever need to talk... about anything, I'm here."

She looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. There was something deeply comforting in the way he spoke, like he truly meant it. She felt the vulnerability in her chest, the fear that had been bubbling inside her for months now, but she couldn't bring herself to fully share it just yet.

"Thank you, Elijah," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'm not used to this... to being taken care of without being treated like i'll break..."

Elijah leaned forward, his hand gently brushing against hers once more. "You don't have to be," he said softly. "Not anymore."

Harper swallowed the lump in her throat, unsure of what to say next. She had always been the strong one, the one who kept everything to herself, who never asked for help. But in this strange new world, surrounded by immortals and with her life hanging by a thread, she was starting to wonder if it was time to let go of that control.

"Do you think I'll make it, Elijah?" she asked quietly, her voice thick with emotion. "I mean... with everything that's happening. Do you think I'll survive this?"

Elijah's expression faltered for a split second, but he quickly composed himself. His gaze softened, and he took a deep breath before answering. "I can't promise anything, Harper. But what I can promise is that we will do everything in our power to make sure you're not alone in this. You have us—your family, your friends. And we will fight for you, no matter what."

The sincerity in his voice resonated deep within her. It was the first time in a long while that she felt like there might be a way forward. A sliver of hope, faint but undeniable, stirred in her chest.

"Thank you," Harper whispered again, her voice trembling. She wasn't sure what the future held for her, but for the first time, she felt a small spark of optimism—something that had been buried beneath the weight of her diagnosis and fears for far too long.

Elijah smiled softly, his thumb gently brushing over the back of her hand. "Rest now, Harper. You've been through a lot, and you need to heal, physically and emotionally."

Harper nodded, closing her eyes for a brief moment, allowing herself the rare gift of vulnerability. "I'll try," she said, feeling the weariness of the past few days weigh heavily on her shoulders.

Elijah stayed with her for a while longer, his presence a quiet comfort as she drifted off into a light sleep. The room was peaceful, the only sound being the soft rustle of the sheets and the quiet hum of the world outside.

As she slept, Elijah stood watch over her, his thoughts heavy with the knowledge that no matter what, time was not on their side. Vampirism couldn't cure cancer. And while he couldn't promise her survival, he could offer her something just as precious—his unwavering support, his love, and his commitment to protect her, no matter the cost.

And with that thought, he swore to himself that he wouldn't let her face her fate alone.