Elijah would have forgiven his younger brother almost anything. But some acts were irredeemable. This was justice, of sorts, and justice must be carried out, as he had carried out dispassionately and objectively for countless others. The sudden contact was unexpected and startled him, but he lifted his arms and held them to her back—gingerly, at first, then tighter with confidence that, for now, he would have a family once more.
"Pity me not, sweet sister," he murmured, unable to bring himself to release her just yet. "He did this to make me suffer. For that, I am sorry." He was thrifty with his thanks and apologies because he only said them when they were truly deserved. Now, though, it felt naught more than an empty word. No amount of apologies could absolve him of guilt. Klaus alone had not killed them. It was his own naivete, Katerina, Trevor and Rose; they all had their share of blood on their hands.
"The others were lost to me long before the 21st century." By now, he had let her go and indulged himself in his view of her. "This place. It opens gates to parallel universes. Versions of ourselves, altered by choices that were never made in our own reality. I believe that Claire and Amorisa are from one of these other sides."
"As for Klaus, he will pay for his actions. I swear it, in the name of our family."