**Chapter 3: Shadows of the Past**

As Elijah helped Klaus to his feet, he couldn't help but feel a wave of relief wash over him. The Whitesmith's Kiss was a notorious curse, one that inflicted unbearable pain on its victims. Klaus, ever the stubborn and resilient Original Hybrid, had endured it with a stoicism that belied the agony he must have been feeling. Rebekah and Marcel exchanged worried glances, their faces etched with concern. "We need to get him home," Rebekah said, her voice firm. "He needs rest and medical attention." Elijah nodded, wrapping a supportive arm around Klaus's waist. "The safe house," he said, referring to their hidden sanctuary. "We'll take him there." As they made their way through the winding streets of New Orleans, Klaus leaned heavily on Elijah, his eyes fixed on the ground. The pain from the curse still lingered, but with each step, he seemed to be gaining strength. Marcel walked alongside them, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger. "We need to be careful," he said, his voice low. "The witches won't hesitate to strike again." Rebekah nodded, her gaze darting between the shadows. "We'll get him home, and then we can tend to his wounds." The group finally arrived at the safe house, a nondescript townhouse in the French Quarter. Inside, Klaus collapsed onto the couch, his body wracked with exhaustion. Elijah sat beside him, gently removing Klaus's boots and socks. "We'll get you cleaned up, little brother," he said, his voice soothing. As Rebekah and Marcel set to work tending to Klaus's wounds, Elijah couldn't help but feel a sense of frustration. They had given the witches what they wanted, but at what cost? The location of Elijah's hidden journals was a significant concession, one that could potentially put them all in danger. Klaus's eyes fluttered open, his gaze locking onto Elijah's. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. Elijah's face softened. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Klaus," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "I'll always protect you." Rebekah smiled, her eyes shining with tears. "We'll get through this, together." As the night wore on, Klaus drifted off to sleep, his body slowly healing from the ordeal. Elijah sat vigil, his eyes fixed on his brother's peaceful face. He knew that the witches would not be easily deterred, and that their next move would be crucial in determining the fate of the Mikaelson family. The sound of Klaus's gentle snores filled the room, a stark contrast to the screams of pain that had echoed through the witches' chamber just hours before. Elijah's eyes narrowed, his mind already racing with plans to counter the witches' next move. The shadows of the past seemed to be closing in around them, but Elijah was determined to protect his family at all costs. The question was, what would the future hold for the Originals?