a/n: Kora cringe lol. It's a honeymoon phase, MJ's an emotional nightmare, Kol's insecure, i.e. the types to be clingy until they have a moment to settle.

Also!
I have work every day for the next three weeks. I will try to update, but it will be less regular, and I might fail if I'm too tired. Sorry in advance (remember to comment and vote - Bea xx)

A phone beeping during the car ride had MJ forcing herself to calm down.

A calendar reminder.

Her doctor's appointment.

"Shit."

Ric pointed out that she could always reschedule it, but MJ wasn't about to let that happen. She wanted her jabs, she wanted to be cleared (responsible for herself again), and she wanted everything connected to the fact she'd had two types of surgery in one night to be over with it.

Oddly enough, MJ was picked up from the appointment and driven 'home' by Jo, Ric collecting takeout for the three of them.

Stepping through his new apartment door, she finally felt it all.

The need to curl up under a duvet cover and never move again.

So that's what she did, on the sofa in the living room, using Tyler's jersey as a duvet since overheating was the last thing she needed. MJ could smell it again. The way her body probably needed a shower, but she didn't have the energy to wash yet, trying to limit her ability to sweat to put it off for a few more hours.

Whatever.

She was wrapped up on the sofa, staring at the off TV.

It was weird to look at modern devices again.

"So..." Jo sat down carefully, her legs retracting into her chest, "I guess you're feeling a little tired."

"Yeah."

"Normal tired or concerning?"

She breathed in slowly, "Probably concerning."

Jo just nodded in acceptance.

She really looked at MJ.

"Would you feel comfortable with me rubbing your leg?"

"That would be nice."

It was a gentle and reassuring stroke up and down her knee.

"Kai's out there."

"He is."

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologising?"

"I don't really know..." MJ admitted, "For not just going lone wolf and handling it this morning."

"That's completely okay."

"I had a panic attack earlier."

"Ric texted."

"I'm sorry for crashing into your relationship," She changed points, "I'm not trying to be dead weight or cause any tension, but I feel like I am."

"You're not."

"Your boyfriend is aggressively arguing with me every five seconds because I blew myself up. If that's not causing some kind of tension, I...I – I don't even know."

"Well," Jo considered that, "I'm not exactly a fan of how he's handling it."

MJ sat up a little.

"But it's very easy to judge when you're outside of the situation," She spoke what MJ had kinda been thinking to justify where he was coming from, "And I'm choosing to focus on how much he cares about you. And how I can help counter the...less-than-stellar moments, rather than overstepping."

MJ rested back on the cushions

"Do you drink tea? Or cocoa?"

"Aren't we getting Chinese for dinner?"

Ric had let MJ chose, and she'd needed her comfort food – even if it wouldn't be as good as her dad's recipes.

"True," Jo looked slightly embarrassed, "Not exactly the drinks to match that choice."

MJ just nodded.

She could've listed the different teas that would've gone perfectly with the dishes they'd ordered, but the words weren't coming. Loads of teas to help with digestion, or for bringing out flavour, or...

Inhale.

Words.

MJ was back to trying to remind herself how to socialise while lying there.

Jo let her though, just sitting with her, so MJ knew she wasn't alone, but not forcing her to do anything.

Ric got back with the boxes, pausing a bit at the sight and clearly uncomfortable. Luckily, Jo jumped into action before MJ could feel too hyperaware of how she presented herself, launching straight into a conversation, cueing Ric to simply unpack. MJ was allowed to stay in her curled up position, accepting the things they handed to her.

As they ate, the couple planned and ranted, trying to work out what they were supposed to do about Kai being out while MJ simply listened. That was all she had the motivation to do. It was like she could hear his voice in her head, replaying her walk through the school and how she'd sworn, she'd seen him.

Had he actually been there without her even knowing?

She'd dissed it as a hallucination – but was that the wrong thing to have done?

"The border reversed the vampirism?" MJ suddenly asked, "Right?"

Jo fiddled with her fork, "In a way."

"It killed me," Ric correct, "She brought me back to life."

"Wow...Go you?"

Jo laughed, embarrassed, "It's only because he died in a saveable way."

MJ considered that.

It wouldn't work as an option for Rebekah, no way to save a sword wound through the heart.

Stefan though?

He was shot and bleed out.

If they stopped the bleeding, could he become human?

It was much easier to think about that than Kai, MJ stretching her neck back and forcing herself to enjoy the next bite. She'd asked for Chinese food. She'd wanted her comfort snacks, and she'd be damned if news of Kai took that away when she was finally enjoying food again.

Her phone rang.

"I've gotta take this," Her legs swung down to the floor, about to leave the room, but Ric lifted his box, "Seriously?"

He looked at her innocently, "Was just gonna ask who it is."

"Marcel," She answered smugly, "A friend. And yes, he's a vampire, but – "

"I'm not gonna stop you from answering MJ," His expression turned tired, "I was just checking because I'd quite like to be aware of what you're up to now I'm alive to know. It's not like you need to hide anything...?"

She took the bait, answering in front of them, still sitting on the sofa, not on speaker, though.

"Dale."

"So..." Marcel's start didn't fill her with confidence, "We have a bit of a situation."

"Wonderful."

"We got the wolves out."

"And?"

"Kol's the reason Rebekah didn't wake up, so Klaus trapped him inside."

MJ's eyes went wide.

"Finn's using a spell to mess with our bloodlust, we're all hungry, and he got a cut."

Her heart started to flip, "Marcel, you've gotta – "

"Keep him safe?" He didn't sound impressed, "He screwed Rebekah over."

MJ thought screwed was a bit harsh. He displaced her, if anything.

"The only reason I haven't already thrown him into the fray was because your boy Sam took control before I could."

She breathed out, "Sam's still inside?"

"Yeah."

"Okay – okay," She tried not to look at her shaking hand, "Thanks for telling me, and...Marcel – "

Her voice broke.

"I told him to get out – "

Marcel sighed, "I'll keep him from getting eaten."

"Thank you," MJ went quieter, "I do know the history, so thank you."

"We don't wanna lose anybody we don't have to."

Beat.

"Even if he is a slimy piece of gum on my shoe."

MJ pressed her hand into the cushion to make it stop trembling, "Thank you."

"You gonna be able to come home soon?"

"Working on it."

"See you soon."

"Stay safe."

"You too."

She hung up, looked at Ric, then dialled a different number, rushing towards the kitchen before he could stop her, causing him to push up and stand in the doorway, watching her pace around the pristine counter.

Klaus answered.

"I swear to god, Klaus – "

Ric's eyes turned stormy, waving at her to hang up, "M – "

"I see my disappointment of a sibling already snitched to you in the hopes of a reprieve," Klaus was doing his fake diplomat voice, "Tell him I hope the cut he got is good, deep, and bleeding profusely."

"Marcel told me, actually."

A laugh, "So he's a coward too."

"How is not telling me cowardly?"

"It means he's scared to remind you of how weak he is."

"He didn't tell me because he knew I'd flip out with stress!" MJ spelt it out for him, "And flipping out when I'm five states over is not good for anyone."

The anger she'd shoved down because of the doctor's burst right back out.

"I'd be hexing you right now if I was able to string a sentence together!"

In her mind, everything was a gooey swamp of terror and self-doubt.

"That's how unstable this makes me! I can't even spell someone right! GET HIM OUT!"

Klaus went silent as something on his end of the phone exploded.

"Klaus – I – I – I'm going to buy a bat! Purely so I can hit you with it!"

A metal covered in spikes.

"What on earth went through your head?"

"He hurt Rebekah."

"You drove the White Oak Stake into her!"

"I cared enough about her to miss her heart."

"No!" MJ shook her head while waving an arm, "That's not a defence!"

She'd let him off easy for it at the time.

"From someone whose sibling tried to kill them, that's not a defence! I would rather have been body jumped than almost killed!"

He shut up again.

"What happens if he dies, Klaus?"

No answer.

"Tell me you genuinely wouldn't care," She deliberately faced away from Ric, "Because I know you would - and I would never forgive you."

"Mira..." His voice returned to the softer tone she'd grown used to, "He'll be out by the end of the evening."

"He better."

"He will."

The promising tone had her breathing in a resetting slightly.

Klaus's anger had probably just added to Kol's resentment, meaning he'd be even more up for making the dagger, making MJ in an even more difficult position between the pair of them. Not that it was Kol's fault. Klaus didn't have to respond so harshly when he could've just lightly called out or asked for the name of her new body. It wasn't like Kol planned for her to vanish forever – he probably would've told them if Klaus hadn't been Klaus about it.

"Rebekah's fine."

"I'll make you a deal, Mira," He went back to the diplomat persona, "You get him to reveal her location, and I'll consider letting him out."

"Why would I give up his leverage?" She scoffed, "Especially when I'm not there to make sure you don't let him out, but into something worse."

"And here I thought you cared about my sister."

"I do," MJ huffed, "She's safe."

"He told you that?"

"He did."

"And he's a liar who you have too much faith in."

"Everyone says the exact same thing to me about you."

He made a noise that sounded like the start of a response, but he didn't finish it.

"If you expect me to trust you, why can't you trust him?"

"Because he's – "

"Someone I trust," She spoke louder than him, "You trust me, so trust my judgement about him."

"You know Mira," Klaus changed tone completely, "You could play knight in shining armour to your failure of a partner if you got on a flight home. There's one in an hour."

"The fact you always know the flight times is starting to get weird."

"She's not flying back," Ric spoke loud enough to be heard through the phone.

He hadn't heard Klaus, but he could assume the question asked to prompt MJ's response.

"Please put me on speaker, Mira."

"Not a chance."

"I would like to speak to him."

"No."

"If you don't, I will find a way to phone him myself."

She considered it.

It was Klaus; he could phone any number of people and say anything to them...

MJ wanted to control the flow of information, "Don't mention recent developments."

"The fact you aren't sharing your supposed happiness with the people you 'care' about speaks miles."

"Changing over now," She looked at Ric, "He'd like to speak to you."

"He can take a hike."

"Mira – "

"He's not happy with that answer."

Ric's glared hardened, "Fine."

MJ pressed the speaker symbol.

"Alaric."

"Leave her alone before I grow a brand new White Oak Tree and drive it through your spine and into your heart."

Klaus laughed, "That's not how anatomy works, mate."

"I'm aware," Ric walked closer, "But I'd want to make it painful. Maybe miss a few times."

"And now that's out of your system," Klaus bravado was not helping the situation, "I require Mira to return home to us. Please take your attempts to play father and revert them back to Elena and Jeremy."

Ric gritted his teeth.

"Oh, have I struck a chord?" He taunted, "I mean, you are always far more reasonable with them. It's almost like you have favourites and actually contribute more to Mira's fluctuating self-esteem than help it."

"Listen to me, you furry little – "

"Katerina Petrova did more to help Mira grow into herself than you ever did, and she is needed in New Orleans."

"See," Ric shook his head, "Needed. That's the word that means 'no way in hell' is the only answer you'll ever get."

MJ looked to Jo apologetically.

"The moment you stop needing her is the moment she ends up dead, and I'm not letting that happen."

"Yet it is the town you are currently forcing her near that actually caused her recent passing," Klaus wasn't backing down, "Mira was happiest last year. She lived in a city she adores, surrounded by people who value her, doing things she enjoys, while returning to your quiet simpleton life sporadically."

MJ tried not to sigh too audibly.

"A life of colour, art, and freedom is what suits her, and if you actually cared for her happiness, you would let her return home."

Ric nodded slowly, "People who value her?"

MJ could feel the explosion about to happen.

"You know who really valued her?"

It was a rhetorical question.

"Carol."

The name had venom laced into it, Ric aiming to hurt.

"Who you killed after almost running a sword through MJ – yeah, I saw that part."

Silence.

"Tyler," He had a list, "Who you've happily ruined the life of."

MJ closed her eyes.

"Jenna," Ric finished, "Jenna thought MJ was one of the best things to happen to Mystic Falls."

MJ hadn't known that.

"And not only did you kill her, but you used MJ to do it."

Her body lying on a corridor floor as Kai's voice played.

"Maybe she was happy last year," Ric wasn't going to fight that part anything, "Doesn't change the fact she was only settling for you."

MJ winced, knowing the jab would hit Klaus where it hurt.

"Because the guy she was putting up with you for actually died," Ric didn't seem to get that MJ had grown to like Klaus, utterly separate to her relationship with Kol, "Who only got as far as he did because I was dead."

Ric had been dubbed as 'problem to remove' by Kol back then for a reason.

"It doesn't change that she could be happy without any of you and your twisted family infecting her life."

MJ had enough, "Ric - "

"Art, colour, freedom?" He listed, "New York and the art schools she should've gone to there would give her all of that without you, and her life would be better – and you know it. So don't pull the 'if you cared about her' card on me. I am thinking about her, and only her. You're thinking about you."

He slammed his thumb into MJ's screen, hanging up the call.

"Well," MJ put the phone away, "That went well."

"That man is evil."

She didn't respond.

"MJ – "

"I'm going to bed," She motioned to the spare room, "I'm tired."

He gave her a look.

"Yeah?"

He considered his options.

He picked the less controversial one, "Who's Sam?"

For the first time in a while, Ric's face looked light.

"And why is it important that he got out of a house?"

MJ realised how the message must've sounded with her careful avoidance of names.

"Because you seemed very emotional about him."

"He's the guy Tyler turned into a hybrid when he tried to go all revenge mission on us," She started, "He's important to me."

Lying to loved ones made her feel ~icky~

"He's my age...we had a fun system set up before I died. Saw movies every week and had lunch after. No supernatural talk allowed."

Ric almost smiled at the idea of it.

"Didn't you see that stuff?"

"I saw you with a guy," He admitted, "Felt a bit creepy the first time I eavesdropped, 'cos you were letting him feed on you, so I tried to avoid the stuff like that and focus on the psycho immortals."

"Then," MJ had so many retorts she could make, "If you deliberately didn't watch the good – no wonder you need me to tell you about it."

That was his new middle ground. MJ had to talk him through everything he's missed, so he wasn't just letting her vanish to a potentially stressful and unsupportive environment.

"New Orleans is a really well-populated city," She reminded him, "And wanting to be there isn't just about 'The Mikaelsons.' it's about the fact I have a life. A job – friends."

"We can talk about dates for flying back in the morning," He looked at her hands, "I'm sorry I got mad."

It had been purely targeted at the phone.

"It's just...Klaus."

"I know," She wasn't about to get upset about that part, "I get it."

He gave her a light hug that she only half returned.

"See you in the morning," MJ glanced to the still confused Jo, "Klaus used to be the big bad of the story."

She really didn't want to affect their relationship by displaying the worst of Ric.

"He's not overreacting given the history."

Jenna was dead.

Jo smiled softly at her, "Good to know."

As she walked into the spare bedroom, she was texting Kol.

Messages he was reading from the magic room of The Compound, trying to work out how to respond.

- Marcel said Klaus found out about Rebekah?

- Please stay safe

- Healing herb box is next to the bourbon in the alcohol cupboard, bottom draw stuff for quick cut fixing or vamp blood in the bedside table to make sure you wake up if something goes wrong

Just texting a sentence that implied someone might kill him felt like too much for her.

- I've yelled at Klaus already

- And I'll be sending him hate texts continuously until you're safe.

That one at least made Kol smile.

- Do you want me to get a flight back to siphon you out?

- I'll sneak out the window and come up with some excuse to tell Ric.

That one didn't.

'I'm fine.'

- Thought we said no to lying outside of our pact?

'Not lying'

- Call me?

He did, "I'm not lying."

She moved to the bed.

"I'll be fine."

"Say it one more time," Her voice was barely a whisper, "And I might believe you."

"Mira, I promise that I'm – "

"Actually," She shuffled in the background, "Please don't."

The duvet was being tugged around her.

"I definitely won't believe you."

He managed a smile, "I always work my way out of situations like this."

"There's a massive difference between surviving things as an Original and doing it as a witch."

"I know how to look after myself, MJ," He tried to keep his voice level, "I've been doing it most of my life."

She could feel the sharpness of each word.

"I'm not as useless as I'm being made out to be at the moment."

"I know you're not useless," MJ panicked, "I never said you were."

"It's how I'm starting to feel."

"Because you've been trapped with Klaus all day, and he's probably been making constant jabs."

"He definitely fancies you."

"He doesn't."

"Discussion for another time," Kol accepted, "You don't need to be this worried about me."

"I do," She needed to see him, "Can we switch to FaceTime?"

He sighed, "Sure."

After a few moments of fiddling, she was greeted with blue eyes and curlier light brown hair.

"Kol," MJ made sure to look him in the eye, "I'm not worried because I doubt you; I'm worried because I care about you."

He stared back at her.

"I," She tilted her head back slightly on the pillow, "Our roles are kinda reversed, and I hate it."

His voice went slightly higher, "What?"

"I'm the basically indestructible creature locked in the library."

Thanks to the magic.

"Knowing you're there, possibly getting your throat ripped out, not able to do anything about it."

"See how mean you were to me?" His face softened, "Spelling me in like that."

"Sorry."

"I'm joking, Mira."

"...Are you?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" He really looked at how pale her face was, "...Macushla..."

"I think I need to give you a nickname limit."

Kol chuckled, "Not like that one either?"

"Love it," She admitted, "But 'my pulse' felt way more appropriate when you were dead."

"I think it suits you perfectly."

"I think you randomly rotate between whichever you haven't used in a while."

He feigned offence, "You visibly respond in a slightly different way to each of them."

MJ paused to think if that was true.

"I pick based on what reaction I want."

She curled her lips in, trying not to smile.

"And I was definitely joking," Kol had successfully distracted her from the question she'd asked, "And even if I wasn't, we both know that I rather enjoy some nastiness in the women I engage with."

"Lies," She slowly released the duvet, trying to rid the white from her knuckles, "You have a praise kink."

"I have no such thing."

"You're so used to having to boost your own ego; having someone else do it is definitely more of a turn-on than if I was degrading you," MJ paused, "Though, maybe turn-on is the wrong word. You get turned on when I degrade other people."

"There's no point denying that."

"But your face gets this cute little look," She pictured it, "Whenever I give you a compliment or praise, and it makes me want to squish your cheeks until you realise how genuinely epic I think you are."

He settled on to his own bed, biting his cheek and glancing away.

"Oh my god, are you embarrassed?"

"Never," He rushed to look back at her, "Have I not established that there isn't an ounce of shame left inside of me?"

"Then why are you slightly flushed?"

"Am not!"

"Squishing your cheeks would end with me kissing them about a million times."

"Then I guess I can accept it," He turned onto his side, "Not sure I like being called cute."

"But you're the cutest!"

The look started to form, even if the features didn't line up with the ones in MJ's head, "I'm the sexiest."

"You can be both."

"I think you'll find that's actually your superpower, darling," He smiled, "Simultaneously adorable enough to want to hold while sexy enough to have ripping your clothes off feature at least once a night when I dream."

"And now you've successfully got me off-topic, again," She called out, "How are you actually feeling?"

"Irritated and surrounded by vampires who think they're better than me."

"Wanna stay talking to me for a little bit to ignore them?"

"Is that a genuine question?"

"The sigh in your voice when I asked to switch had me nervous."

"I'm just tired, M," He kicked his shoes off, "And you know I have a short fuse."

One that was easing the longer he looked at her.

"I'm not mad at you."

She rushed words out, "If you'd rather sleep – "

"Let me listen to you talk for a little bit," He stopped her, pulling his trousers off, off-camera, "Having a two-sided conversation with you – "

Shirt gone, his own duvet pulled up as he wrapped up for the night too.

"– That doesn't end with me turning invisible, is exactly what I need right now."

MJ started to do the same, putting the phone down to reach for her pyjamas in the drawer next to the bed.

"Catch me up on your day?"

"It's not been a good one either."

"Do you need to sleep?"

"I want to spend the entire night on facetime," MJ had changed at the speed of light, already back on the bed, hugging her pillow tight enough to hide her face in it, "Pretending this is you."

"You're in a sappy mode today," He teased.

"We deserve to be sappy," She defended, "If it's too much, I'll stop."

It wasn't like Kol had a history of relationships, and MJ was semi-terrified of coming across too strong and having him bolt because of it.

"Like, I wasn't like this last time because we were doing the loose long-distance thing and because I was mentally stable, but not being stable isn't an excuse to act crazy. I've just missed you a lot. And I know you're probably not feeling great right now, and I really think you need to hear how much someone...I promise I'll turn it down."

"I was compelling two of your friends for information and planning to kill four of them because I was that desperate for your attention," Kol really didn't have the 'shame' bone, "Your 'crazy' has nothing on mine."

She actually laughed.

"And if you were here, I wouldn't exactly be letting you leave my arms either."

She relaxed again, "Can't wait."

"If you don't want to talk about your day yet," He could only assume that was part of what had triggered her stress-spiel, "Give me the nickname restrictions then."

"I think three works," She thought about it, "Amoret, Machusla, and darling."

He nodded in satisfaction, "Those were my favourite three anyway."

"But I'm not exactly going to complain if you're simply calling me gorgeous or something."

"Do I get handsom then?"

"You get adorable."

He pouted.

"See!" She pointed at the screen, "Handomsly adorable.

The next morning, a celebration was being set up. Every statue at the church had been covered with a red satin sheet, bells ringing out across the city, everyone walking about dressed in either white or red too. Shopkeepers were handing out flags to the kids, letting them run up and down the pavement, the adults focused on the parishioners roaming the roads, robes on, group leaders holding statues in front of them, sheets over the heads.

Klaus walked through the people, scanning faces, phone to his ear as he spoke to Marcel.

"I've searched the entire French Quarter – Finn has vanished," He ranted as he walked, "I can't remove the barrier that has you trapped until I have my hand around his throat."

Marcel sighed, tired from being up most of the night, "I was hoping you had a Plan B."

"Davina," Klaus answered, "She doesn't know it yet, but she's going to help me. Your job?"

As Klaus spoke, Marcel rolled his shirtsleeve up to look at his left forearm.

A werewolf bite was waiting for him, making him wince as he tried to touch it.

"Keep Kol alive."

He didn't respond, thinking back to Jerick biting him during the commotion.

"Are you listening to me?"

"Yeah," Marcel didn't sound convincing, "Uh, that all sounds fine and good."

The getting Davina to help part, not the Kol bit.

"But listen...when I was getting the werewolves out, I got bit."

Klaus froze, looking around the streets and not enjoying his ever-growing to-do list.

"I will get you my blood," He promised, "I will get you out of that house, Marcellus."

The sire nodded.

"Whatever it takes."

As they hung up, Marcel went to return to the courtyard, only for his vision to blur, Jo Dalton's face in front of him. Unintentionally, as he wandered forward, he was thrust back into hallucinations of his past with the friend he'd recently lost.

One of the many side effects already kicking in, making it clear his day wasn't going to be an easy one.

By the time he came round, Marcel had stumbled to the internal balcony edge, pinching his nose and looking down. The rabble was draped about the place, groaning in hunger, waiting for him to tell them what to do. Josh and Gia were coping the best, looking up at him and visibly worried, Sam in charge of blood rationing as the only person not craving.

He noticed Gia and Josh staring up, so he looked to Marcel too, raising an eyebrow.

Only difference?

Instead of waiting for him to say something, Sam headed up the stairs and spoke first.

"I have an idea, and I hate it."

Marcel didn't know how to respond to that, walking around the second-floor surround, putting some space between them and the people too weak to eavesdrop.

"I get that no person can pass through the barrier, but you can move objects."

They'd seen that with the witch supplies.

"What if we order take out or something?"

"That's what you're thinking about right now?" Marcel pulled a face, "There's normal food in the fridge."

"Let me finish," Sam managed a smile, "We can compel the delivery guys without crossing the barrier."

That caught the older vampire's attention in a better way.

"Get them to bleed," He clarified, "The basement store is officially running low, and people are only getting hungrier, so we need to do something before we have a purge situation."

Part two.

"And we do have food in the fridge, but not enough for this many people," Sam used his hands to talk, "Take-out to help with the craving, and more blood to slowly distribute."

A pause.

"Compelling strangers to bleed kinda goes against all my morals, but we can heal them up, draw on their hand to mark them for the coroner, and just have something to ease everyone out."

"That's...not a bad idea," Marcel raised an eyebrow, "You're on a bit of a role."

"Smarter than you thought I was?"

"You weren't exactly on my list of people to watch last year."

"I wanted to be invisible last year," Sam smiled, "Kept me off hit-lists."

"Very true."

"You think I could be friends with MJ and be an idiot?"

Marcel paused to really look at him.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Nah, man," Sam wanted to hear him say it, "You thought I was stupid – not gonna hold it against you."

"I just thought it was odd you were eighteen, but just about," Marcel justified, "You secretly in college?"

"I secretly had two jobs," He admitted, "Klaus's demand I guard Hayley twenty-four-seven almost completely screwed up my family's ability to pay bills."

The older vampire's expression softened, "Oh."

"Yeah," He shrugged, "MJ gave me a fat lecture about not feeling guilty about compelling the paychecks from them because 'capitalistic societies are corrupt anyway.'"

A phrase he couldn't help but smile while saying.

"And kept offering to pay me a 'babysitting fee' herself."

"From her paycheck?"

"Apparently, she has one of Klaus's credit cards."

Marcel smiled too, "Should've said yes."

"If she offers again, I will be," Sam tensed slightly, blinking slightly slower, "Checked on our friends in the basement."

A group that had gotten a bit too rowdy during the night, now separated from everyone else.

"They seem fine now, but if they get a whiff of blood, they'll lose it again."

Marcel narrowed his eyes at the slight change in posture, "You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Sam?"

"Honestly, it's nothing."

Considering the 'it's nothing' Marcel was hiding, he didn't trust that answer.

"Dude," Sam assured him, "I'm just starting to get a little hungry too. It's fine."

"Spell hungry or general 'blood' hungry?"

"General."

Marcel relaxed.

"I didn't 'eat' before I got here yesterday, and I'm not gonna waste any of the stash considering the situation," Sam shook his head, "Klaus is on it?"

"He's gonna get Davina to help. She wants Kol out."

Sam bit his cheek, glancing around nervously, "Blackmailing her like this isn't going to end well."

"What do you know that I don't?" Marcel crossed his arms, "She told you something?"

"Something I will never understand?" The hybrid held his arms out, "How everyone in this house can have supernatural hearing, yet I'm the only one who ever seems to know what's going on with all of you."

He stepped towards a door to get entirely out of sight.

"She hasn't told me anything, but something's up," He could read her well enough, "She hasn't mentioned The Stake since it was stolen."

Marcel considered it.

"She stole it twice – why stop now?"

"Blood low makes you paranoid?"

"Just," Sam relaxed his head against the back wall, "Why am I still alive?"

"What?"

"I insulted Klaus twice yesterday. To his face."

In front of people.

"And he didn't insult or threaten me for it."

It didn't make sense.

"Hayley's a hybrid, so the whole 'he doesn't want to be the only one' thing isn't an excuse anymore. He'd have her, and he'd probably rather have her."

To everyone, Hayley and Klaus seemed closer than ever after the death of their child.

"Over the summer, I thought he left me alone as a way to honour MJ, but she's alive, so he doesn't need to do that anymore – "

Marcel wanted to laugh, "Are you seriously complaining about being left alive?"

"Not complaining," He assured him, "Just confused."

Which was reasonable.

"Like – where's Elijah gone?"

Everyone had been asking about Hayley's delayed return, but not Elijah's MIA-ness.

"Why is Klaus not playing warlord at these peace summits? Actually working with Hayley – speaking of, where did Hayley, Klaus, and MJ disappear to the day she came back to town?"

Marcel clicked his teeth.

"Klaus asked me to help Hayley in October, and since then, sure, I'm expected to be here, but he's left me completely alone," He shifted, "But..."

It just wasn't sitting right.

"But, I'm starting to feel like his pawn all over again."

His sire bond to the unborn baby had put him in a complicated position with the Mikaelson's, forced to do everything Hayley said but operating under Klaus's requests to avoid being murdered.

"Something big's going on behind the scenes, and we're all just foot soldiers waiting to be put into a battle against something that might kill us, none the wiser."

"Look, man," Marcel had other things to think about if he was honest, "Save the theorising for when you're in the right headspace. Klaus doesn't know how long this'll take him, and MJ's been texting."

"Can't come back?"

"Whoever her guardian is, he's down with her coming back, just not for this crisis, 'cos Klaus pissed him off."

"Of course he did," Sam sighed, "K...I'll go see if any of the breakfast places deliver."

"Thanks."

As he headed down the stairs, Marcel turned into the upstairs study for a moment of peace, sitting on the couch and rolling his shirt sleeve up again to look at the wound.

His moment was ruined when Kol walked in, "What's with the church bells?"

The festival set-up was still going on, Marcel covering his arm in a rush.

"It sounds like the preamble to my own bloody funeral."

"It's Carillon Eve," Marcel rolled his eyes, "The locals shroud the eyes of angels so the dead can walk among us for a night without judgment. The bells wake the dead and guide them to eternal rest. So – "

His tone became cheerful and sarcastic.

"Whether you live or die today, you can join the festivities."

It also signalled the start of the Winter-Christmas specific celebrations.

"Oh, Marcel," Kol laughed falsely, "You're gonna make certain that I live."

Which piece of motivation should he use to keep up the family bravado of total control?

"I'm the only one that knows how to find Rebekah."

"You underestimate how hungry I am," He motioned to the door with his head, "And how much I'd like to appease my hungrier friends right outside that door."

Kol sat down on the couch, stretching his legs forward and relaxing.

"And just what would MJ say about that?" He moved to the next button, "Because, in case you haven't noticed, I think she likes me – and I'm pretty sure you owe her a few."

Marcel was unimpressed, "Way to use your situation."

Kol didn't respond.

"I'm not even surprised," Marcel stood up, "If I was as twisted as you, I'd probably target her too."

He was moving towards the bookshelf.

"But while you carry on manipulating her," He noted how the phrase had the ex-Original shifting uncomfortably, "I'm gonna have her back."

"Hm."

"And once she finally sees through the fake little 'boyfriend' act you've got going on, I'm gonna drain every vein in your body."

Kol was about to bite back, except he clocked just what Marcel was looking at.

A picture on the shelf from some event featuring a face he recognised.

He quickly stood up to get a better look, "That's her mother."

Ana and Marcel, sitting next to each other at a table in The Compound, surrounded by other guests.

"It is," Marcel smirked, "Ana and I were quite the duo back in the day."

He'd put the picture back up recently.

"Only reasonable witch in town, and she actually 'quite liked' me."

Kol frowned.

"That expression makes it clear you know she wouldn't like you."

He didn't respond.

"MJ's my friend," Marcel turned sharper again, "And I'll spell this out for you – since I know you're a self-centred weasel who wouldn't know a thing about friendship."

Kol didn't like how smoothly words flowed out of Marcel's mouth.

"You don't owe friends anything."

Everyone had their own definition of friendship.

"You watch out for them because you want them to be happy."

And now that MJ was back, most of New Orleans wanted to make sure she got to be happy.

"The person I owe?" He gestured to the picture, "Ana."

Their relationship was a complicated one.

"I owe that woman a lot. Always will. And I'm not about to let her kid be used by someone like you."

As Marcel stormed away, he was iht with a wave of nausea, leaning into the doorframe and desperately blinking to get a sense of gravity back, another hallucination starting.

"Joe?"

Kol raised an eyebrow, watching him almost float away before he could even consider asking any questions.

His eyes returned to the picture.

Even in a photo, Ana Ruiz carried a presence to her. She was the type of person whose attitude screamed 'yes, I'm the main attraction,' leaving Kol to figure out if that was simply who she was or if he was the only one who felt that way, given his attachment to MJ. He was human now, and a normal human thing was to get to know your partners family...

He'd never really felt it before, but something in his brain had clicked into a new gear.

Ana had spoken to him. Ana liked Marcel. He and Marcel didn't like each other, and Ana had openly disliked him too, and suddenly, Kol hated it. He hadn't appreciated the open disses at the time, but they'd been amusing enough – but now, it was a sign of something he didn't understand, and he didn't like it.

The colours of the photo were a little off, a few years old, her wavy hair looking even darker brown than it had in person, the reddish tints in MJ's clearly coming from her father. The tan skin was the same – and the array of jewellery.

The smile seemed genuine, but the eyes gave her away the exact same way they had at Graduation.

It wasn't that they looked unhappy; they just had a deadly glint to them that turned the expression into a smirk.

2002

Ana Ruiz was leaning on a second-floor railing, wearing a pale yellow dress right out of the 1915s, champagne glass in hand as she looked at the people below. The Abbatoir courtyard had initially been set up for dinner, round tables covered in a table cloth with hand-stitched designs in the corners, a low lying piece of greenery in the centre, the layout of the dishes matching the proper ways families would've celebrated together.

Multiple pieces of cutlery and oddly shapes glasses she couldn't help but stare at.

While they'd all been moved to a second room for a talk by the mayor, the feast had been cleared away to make room for dancing and mingling, the crowd a decent mix of people. Mainly humans and vampires, herself and one other as the sole representatives for the witches.

Herself and Josephine La Rue.

Ana knew the Regent's presence would mean something to people, so she hadn't been about to let Jo reject the invitation to attend. Not when she'd finally joined a coven after four years of deliberate avoidance and general 'allyship.' She'd had to drag the woman there, but once Jo had seen the food, she'd put on a smiling face for the humans.

"You could at least look like you're enjoying yourself," Marcel appeared on her left, offering her a new and full glass, "Wouldn't want to wound my pride too much."

"Nothing do to with you or your party," She accepted it, "Your pride can stay intact."

He lifted his glass to her, and she quickly clinked it, then rested back on the bannister.

They stayed watching people for another minute, him analysing her face.

Ana didn't like people trying to read her.

"Why World War One?"

"Why World War One?"

"Why not the twenties?" She gestured out, "The twenties were meant to be fun."

He laughed, "You really don't like the party."

"It's getting better," She smiled genuinely, "I'm only asking because I'm nosy."

"You think I don't just pick random years?"

"I think those badges on your suit jacket are definitely real."

He bobbed his head proudly, "I may have served."

"There we go!"

"Ah," Marcel clicked his teeth, "You think there's some deeper meaning to all this stuff."

She gave him a clear look that read as 'you ain't slick.'

His eyes dropped.

The fact she'd infected him with her low mood that quickly almost made Ana feel bad, so she gently nudged into him and offered the kindest smile she could muster. Those types of looks were saved for her boyfriend and her kids, but she could spare a few for the sad vampire host.

"Tell me about it then."

"You want to listen to me talk about the past when you could be having fun?"

"I do," She swished the glass, "You're the only person I properly know here, so..."

"Thank you," He cleared his throat, "I don't think I thanked you yet?"

Ana raised an eyebrow, "For what?"

"Joining the French Quarter Coven."

"Oh," She looked down in embarrassment, "That."

"When I said you should, I meant it as a joke..."

"Sure it was."

"I mean," He smiled, "I'm not mad about it."

"Don't think I did it for you."

His smile grew bigger.

"I didn't," She rolled her eyes, "And if you meant it as a joke, why did you agree to those three festivals Jo wanted five minutes after it was announced?"

Marcel's turn to glance away, "You noticed that."

"I did."

He bit his lip.

"I should warn you now," She softened her voice again, "You're not gonna get anywhere with me."

"So certain."

"As much as I like a man in uniform," Ana smiled to herself, "I'm not interested."

"You sure."

"Entirely."

He really looked at her.

"Not used to rejection?"

"Still trying to understand you."

"The second you do, you'll lose interest."

"You think me so fickle?"

"You're a vampire," She sipped a glass, "Fickle is the only way immortality would be bearable."

"Fickle," He nodded, "Or complete devotion to someone else."

Ana's first genuine smile at the thought, "But how often does that happen?"

"You have a boyfriend?"

"Is that the only reason I could resist your charm?"

"Maybe," He shrugged, "But I wasn't asking because of that."

She just took another sip.

"We're however many years in, and I don't know a thing about your type."

"Not you."

"Message received," He grinned, "And if I want to be your ally?"

"Purely clothes on."

"Purely clothes subject to change."

Ana laughed, "How about, instead of allies..."

She held a hand forward,

"We finally become friends."

Marcel was watching her again, slightly confused by the comment, considering how long they'd known each other.

"God knows The Quarter could use some friendships," Ana almost looked nervous for once, "And I've never really had a proper friend before...Someone who knows about the magic and such..."

"That's because friendships require letting people see beyond the surface," He called out, "And answering questions with actual answers, not just your own questions."

"You noticed that?" She mocked him.

"Friendship," He lifted his glass again, "I'll drink to that."

They clinked their glasses together.

"Now tell me about the war?" She had a spark in her eye.

"Eh..."

"Why'd you go – couldn't compel your way out of it?"

"Didn't want to."

She shifted, "Oh."

"Too many innocent people were dying, and I couldn't. Not by any gun anyway. Signing up was the right thing to do."

Something changed in the way she looked at him.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Ana focused back on her drink, "That was the only reason? Duty towards what's right?"

Marcel stepped back, "What other reason would someone go to war?"

"Desperation to kill, easy blood supply – "

"Reasons when you factor out the vampire part."

"Hiding?" She listed, "Self-hate? A sense of freedom and control?"

"A sense of freedom and control by going to war?"

"There's power in taking action," She mused, "Putting yourself into battle."

The word felt almost satirical coming out of her mouth, a joke Marcel didn't understand behind it.

"Yes, you can get hurt, but at least you're the one putting yourself in that situation."

Silence.

"Sorry," Ana finished the drink, "Bit dark."

"But you hit it dead on the nose."

She straightened up, "Oh."

"...You didn't mean to?"

"I'm a witch, not telepathic, Marcel!"

He blinked.

"Explain yourself?"

"Well," He realised he had too, "There was a girl."

"Of course there was."

"And a controlling brother who I owed everything to."

She didn't respond, listening to how his voice changed from a charming businessman to someone else.

"I'd lived under him for too long," Marcel slowed, "Needed to get away."

Leaving New Orleans was never the problem; the hard part was staying gone.

"And I wanted to do something good with my time, so I went to war."

"Did you at least get the girl?"

"For a minute or two."

Her face became more sympathetic, "Is she still out there or?"

"Probably," He admitted, "No one's heard from her in decades."

"Well, with vampires," Ana shrugged, "There's always time."

He turned, so his back was leaning on the railing, properly looking at her, "Your turn to spill."

"My turn?" She scoffed, "No chance."

"Friendship's two ways Ana."

She sighed, "Fine."

"Tell me why your brain went there if you couldn't read my mind."

She ran her fingers into her thick curled hair, brushing the strands behind her ears to cup her own face, leaning forward, elbows propped up on the bannister, "Why do you think?"

He thought about her eyes, attitude, and reputation among the witches.

"You've served too?"

She stayed looking forward, "In a way."

"In a way?"

"Supernatural fallouts are never as simple as the human ones," She slowly stood up, "I did hundreds of stupid things to feel in control over the years."

He put a hand on her arm, "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem," Marcel didn't know the right word, "Just...something's different about you tonight?"

He couldn't see the fire in her eyes.

"I thought you'd enjoy a party."

"I will," She rubbed her tired eyes, "It's the anniversary of a death."

"Oh," He suddenly felt bad about giving her more to drink, "I'm sorry – "

"Don't," Ana shook her head, "You've seen far more people die than I ever will; you don't need to say the niceties."

He wanted to though.

"My parents, if we're specific," She pushed forward, "But I'm an adult."

A dismissive head flick.

"I take a five minute time out every year to think about them, and then I continue with my day."

"...I'll leave you to it then."

"Five minutes ended just before you got here," She put her glass on a nearby table, "And I would quite like to enjoy tonight if you're willing to not abandon me to the wolves that are you the rest of the New Orleans elite."

"We can hide in the shadows," He scanned the other guests below them, "I'll talk you through who's sketchy and who isn't."

"I like the sound of that."

Marcel couldn't help but smile at the sight of her perking up.

2012

Klaus was pacing around the sacristy of Saint Anne's church, Davina drawing a salt circle in front of the first rows of pews, chalk runes in the centre, the book she was using as a guide to her left.

"Haven't you found Finn yet?"

Davina ignored him, continuing to draw.

"I must say, for a witch of your calibre, your spells are not particularly efficient."

"Finn is blocking my locator spell," She looked up at him, "So, I'm trying something new."

Irritation leaked off of her.

"But, I need to concentrate, and it would help a lot if you would stop standing over me like a stalker."

"No need to get testy," Klaus put his hands up, "We both have the same goal."

"Really?" Davina started to light the candles, "Because my goal is to get my friends out of your house alive. Which seems to be about number ten on your list."

"Number nine, at least."

She closed her eyes and counted to ten, trying to calm down.

"Friend is a fun word for Kol," Klaus leant on one of the pews, "He doesn't do friends. Never has."

She continued counting past ten.

"I think the word you're looking for is 'crush', love."

"Why does it matter?" Davina opened her eyes, snuffing the match out angrily, "I also have Marcel and Sam in there."

"So you admit it," He mused, "Kol does require a separate label."

She didn't respond.

"You witches need to raise your standards."

Davina raised a challenging eyebrow, "Because you're so much better?"

He narrowed his eyes.

"Because that's what we're really talking about, right?" She stood up, "You don't give a crap about how I feel about people. The only reason you've brought it up is because you're projecting."

"Projecting what?" He scoffed.

"The fact you've clearly been in love with MJ for who knows how long."

Silence.

"That's the real reason you don't care about Kol getting hurt in there," She smiled in victory, "You'd rather he wasn't around because some screwed up part of you probably thinks that if he wasn't, you'd stand a chance. But guess what, Klaus – you don't."

With a snap of the fingers, the book closed.

"And this is a prime example of why," She moved it out of the way, "You're a terrible person who goes out of his way to hurt people who aren't."

"You might wanna get your villains straight, love," He snarled, "Your misguided affections towards my brother have clouded your judgement."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

" Kol has the highest kill count out of all of us despite spending most of history locked in a box."

Davina bit on her lips to keep them shut.

"He'd be woken up from his little naps, tear apart the town, then go back to sleep until the next time I got bored enough to release him."

"Bored enough to release him?" She looked gobsmacked, "You treat people like they're toys."

"You're focusing on the wrong bit of that sentence."

"And you're treating Kol specifically like dirt," Her hands were on her hips, "Because you're in love with his girlfriend. And it's a little pathetic."

Despite how it looked like Klaus might attack her, Davina kept talking.

"And, to make it worse, you're using Cami as a cover-up."

His growl vanished.

"And she deserves better than that – they both deserve better than that."

"Any feelings I harbour towards Camille have nothing to do with this."

Davina paused at the low tone of his voice.

"They never have, and they never will."

She eyed up his sudden stature change.

"Welcome to the complex real-world, Davina," Klaus stepped back, "As you get older, you will learn that the people you meet will align with your needs in different ways. This makes it more than possible to love two people at once – in massively different ways."

"...So you do love her?"

"Yes."

Davina slowly blinked, realising a problem with her question, "Wait – MJ or Camille?"

"Yes."

Stillness.

"In different ways," He repeated, "But, I don't wish Kol dead because of some farcical triangle your teenage mind has constructed."

Because she was only seventeen, and she didn't have much real-world experience.

"I don't even wish him dead! I am merely treating him like he's a rodent in need of excising because that's precisely what he is."

"He's your brother, and you left him to die."

"Because I happen to have a sister who I care about more."

The conversation had gone on for longer than he liked, so he was ending it.

"And, until he tells me where she is, he can rot."

Her frown was cutting.

"If you want to play 'girl to the rescue' to catch his probably unfaithfully wandering eyes, you might want to pick up the pace and find out where Finn, the true architect of this fiasco, is getting his power from, so we can stop it."

Davine sat back down and put her hands out to start chanting the incantation.

She wanted the situation over too.

"We Du Le Mon Ennemi On Ton. We Du Le Mon Ennemi On Ton."

In her mind, she could see Finn.

"We Du Le Mon Ennemi On Ton. We Du Le Mon Ennemi On Ton."

He was standing in Lafayette Cemetery, in front of a bowl filled with blood, surrounded by several objects.

"We Du Le Mon Ennemi On Ton. We Du Le Mon Ennemi On Ton."

A fox tail, a feather, and a deer antler spread across the table as he started to chant himself.

"I saw glimpses of him," Davina blinked herself back to reality, "He's combining sacred objects."

Klaus started to get concerned at the prospect of more magic messing with the vampires.

"Totems. Representational magic."

"Where?"

She closed her eyes to let the visions wash over her again, trying to spot the identifiers in the background.

"Lafayette No. One," Davina kept looking while answering the question, "The Lyonne tomb."

"And what's he using?"

She saw two bodies lying on the floor, desiccated in the middle of a salt circle.

Her eyes opened in shock, "He's channelling your parents!"

"And here I thought I was the poster-child for least grateful offspring," He grinned like the Cheshire Cat, "Well, then. Shall you and I go crash their little party?"

Davina didn't take the hand, causing him to sigh as she pushed to her feet, following him down the aisle.

Before they could reach the end, Klaus keeled over, gasping for breath.

"Now, who needs to pick up the pace?" Davina turned while walking to smile at him smugly.

His eyes rolled back, and he fell to the floor, unconscious.

"Klaus!" She rushed forward, "Klaus?"

Even if she hated him, she didn't like the prospect of going into fight Finn without him – or at something strong enough to simply take him down being used.

Meanwhile, at The Compound, Gia and Josh were getting a little too suspicious. He was keeping his distance, leaving Sam in charge, which was good and bad. The vampires had to accept his help, whether they wanted to acknowledge him as one of them or not, but it also didn't feel right considering Marcel wasn't the type to abandon his people.

Gia had dragged Josh to a side corner, "What the hell is wrong with Marcel?"

"I don't know," He looked pale, "I can't even think straight; I'm so freaking hungry."

"We're all hungry."

As in on cue, Kol walked down the stairs, both of their gazes fixing on him, mouths opening on instinct.

Gia's foot moved forward.

"You come anywhere near me," He noticed, "And I will give you a headache that will last a century."

"It'll be worth it."

She jumped, but his hand went up first, turning to a fist.

Her scream echoed as her knees hit the floor, Josh using the fact Kol was occupied to make his own attack, only missing because Sam slammed him into the wall, waking him up.

He turned back to look at Kol, "What part of stay out of the way do you not get?"

"It's not my fault your so-called security detail decided they wanted to eat me!"

He dropped the spell, leaving Gia on the floor, steadying herself.

"You should count yourself lucky you're getting a security detail."

"We've met once," Kol complained, "You kidnapped me, and yet you seem to hate me?"

"I don't need to meet anymore Mikaelson's. I've had enough of them to last a lifetime."

"And yet you were the first one in the way yesterday."

"Because I'm not going to turn into you guys," Sam released Josh, letting him fall back to the floor, "I don't let people die."

Marcel came towards them, seeing Josh's dishevelled state and Gia on the floor, "Anyone care to explain what's going on?"

"It's fine now," Sam assured him.

"You sure?"

"I'm not," Kol scowled, "I'm getting a little sick of vampires looking down on me, and I'm tempted to teach the lot of you a lesson."

He waved his hand, a ripple spreading through the air, Josh and Gia groaning out from their spots on the floor.

"That good for you?" Sam mocked, "That scratching the overcompensating itch your entire family has?"

Kol tried to make it affect him too, only to collapse, Finn placing the foxtail in the bowl of blood.

Josh and Gia came back around, incredibly confused and staring at the body, while Marcel and Sam shared a look.

"Uhhh," Josh waved a finger, "What just happened?"

Kol woke up in an old fashioned wooden shed, much like the tools stores their home village once had, a table in the middle with a collection of animal heads on the walls. Elijah and Klaus's eyes opened too, taking in the sight, and then each other, all equally confused and worried by the situation.

"Niklaus," Elijah greeted first.

Kol came forward from the corner he was somewhat protected in, "You two?"

"What is this?"

Kol started to really take in the decorations.

A deer head and a fox head above two of the chairs.

It clicked into place.

"It's a Chambre de Chasse," He pointed to the animals, "A hunt room."

Neither of them responded to that explanation.

"It's where witches bring their prey for mental target practice."

Not a good thing for any of them, considering no one in their family had a stable mental state, to begin with.

"Our bodies are in the real world, lying on the floor," He grimaced about his own situation, "Whilst our minds are in here, represented by these animal heads."

"Let me take a wild guess as to who the author of this nightmare is," Klaus looked around, unimpressed, "Finn! Show yourself!"

The door slammed open, the brother in question strolling in with a wide smile on his face.

Klaus lunged to grab his throat and rip it out, only to be repelled back and into the nearest room like a cartoon character.

"Save your strength," Finn advised insincerely, "In here, I am untouchable."

He gestured around the place.

"My magic, my rules. So, make yourselves at home."

The table and chairs were there for a reason.

"We're gonna be here for a while."

None of them moved, glaring at him.

"At least this prison is a bit more comfortable than the box you held me in for..." He paused to think despite knowing the numbers, "Almost nine hundred years?"

"The heads are a nice touch," Klaus didn't mean it, "Let me guess – I'm the big bad wolf?"

He pointed to each totem.

"Kol, the wily fox," He turned for the last two, "Elijah is the noble stag, and you, fittingly enough, are the boar!"

Kol had been hoping to make that joke.

"Bit obvious, as far as symbolism goes," Klaus's comment caused Finn to sigh, "Why are we here? Don't tell me – It's about Mother?"

The showman tone was not going to make the experience a pleasant one.

"I didn't force her to drink blood and betray everything she holds dear," He gloated, "That was her choice."

"This isn't about Mother," Finn shook his head ruefully, "This is about you."

All of them.

"I want you to know how it feels to be powerless, so I'm going to take the thing that matters most to you."

The elder brothers glanced at each other.

"The city you've come to love so much."

They relaxed, Elijah rolling his eyes, "Are we quite done here? Release us."

"I will," Finn agreed, "After sundown. Because at sundown, when the marchers of Carillon Eve take to the streets, my barrier spell drops."

His own 'presentational' voice only worked to rile Klaus up further.

"Marcel and his vampires will be unleashed to kill their way through The Quarter," His smile was gleeful, "I imagine that, after their atrocities, the supernatural community of New Orleans will be forced to find another place to call home."

"Look," Kol put his hands out, "I don't care about the city."

None of them other than MJ and Marcel really did.

"What I care about is my very human body lying at the feet of some very hungry vampires."

Elijah and Klaus shared an unimpressed look at the declaration.

"Your fight is with them, not me!"

"All you care about is your own fragile mortality," Finn's stare was cold, "But, what if you were made vulnerable? What then?"

With the flick of a wrist, Kol's body tensed, blood dripping down from his nose.

Though he could wipe it away in the Chambre de Chasse, his real body couldn't. It was just lying on the floor, next to Josh and Gia, both desperately fighting off the dark veins creeping up their face, Marcel grabbing Kol while Sam kept them back. The problem was, though they could get Kol back up the stairs, Marcel was slipping into another vision, stumbling about while Sam guided him into a chair, more confused than ever.

Finn cast another spell to restart the nosebleed Kol had managed to stop.

"Okay!" His panic was clear, "Point made!"

Panic and annoyance at having to constantly wipe the blood away from his top lip.

"Nobody loves a joke like old fox-boy here, but if you could just get me back to my body – "

"I must confess," Elijah pulled out a handkerchief, "I rather enjoy watching you twist in the wind."

He passed it to the youngest one present.

"Mortality is certainly an entertaining look on you. It really highlights how selfish you've always been."

"Selfish?" Kol snapped, pinching at the blood flow, "This isn't about me!"

Elijah narrowed his eyes.

"This is about how someone you two claim to value is states away and stressed enough as is," He threw the cloth back at him, "I told her not to worry about me."

"Oh," Klaus scoffed, "Don't start."

Not when he'd just had to put up with Davina calling out his own feelings.

"The only reason I'm letting this play out is because I know you'll be bored within a week now she's no longer forbidden property," He called out, "And, by that point, Mira will have remembered everything else she enjoys about life and won't need the crutch of your familiar presence."

"Again with the jealousies, Nik," Kol jeered, "Don't you ever get bored of only having a taste for people who prefer your siblings?"

Klaus took a threatening step towards him.

"After ten centuries of rejection, you'd think you'd know how to lick your wounds more subtly."

"What's there to be envious of?" He retorted, "After yesterday morning, it's clear where your intentions for her lie."

Assuming the excessive PDA built up to sex, no idea MJ had put a pause in that.

"Once you've either achieved it or given up, her back and forth lifestyle will allow you to stray far too easily."

"And wouldn't you just love for me to do so?"

"I'm not jealous, Kol. I'm bored and incredibly unimpressed by the fact you think you can use Mira as an excuse to garner my protection when we all know how capricious your heart is."

Kol felt like he was back in Davina's cabin, ready to punch his brother.

"I'm also quite amused," He goaded, "Mira will awaken from the initial shock reaction of your revival. It's just a matter of when."

A comment that halted Kol's anger, something else taking its place.

"She'll settle within herself, and she'll see right through you - smart enough to know you're not worth her time."

"It's an interesting tactic," Finn considered, "So firmly sticking to an act clearly no one believes."

"I'm intrigued to see how far he's willing to play it," Klaus nodded at his eldest brother, "Wonder if we can drive him to marriage?"

"Fatherhood?"

"I mean, he is mortal now," Klaus laughed, "Imagine him with a child!"

"If she's stupid enough to trust him with it, she can only blame herself when it ends up dead."

Kol lunged, his turn to be tossed into the wall by Finn's protection charms, slumping to the floor.

"Come on, Kol. Look at your track record," He wanted tension, so kept pushing, "You act like you love her, but you have no point of reference. Everyone you associate yourself with dies – usually by your own hand."

"A hand which is going to stab your eyes out."

"See," He pointed, "Violence upon violence. You are the same person you always have been."

Silence.

"Do you think you can keep her safe from the monsters that lurk in our families shadows?"

Some Finn knew more about than the rest of them.

"From yourself? And our squabbles?"

Which history showed ended with dead loved ones.

"What that girl needs is a warm light," He'd been there for her wrap-up of hell, "And your darkness will simply consume her entirely until she is weak and begging for death."

"I think," Elijah stopped it, "You've both drifted from the topic."

While Klaus and Finn were glooming down at Kol, he stood incredibly still, watching Kol's genuinely upset expression, even if he was trying to hide it while returning to his feet.

"My comment was meant to be about his treatment of Rebekah."

The pair realised they'd unintentionally teamed up to torment him, staring awkwardly at each other, clearing their throats, returning to harsh glares.

"Ah yes, the fate of Rebekah," Finn chided, "Just what did you do to her?"

"For goodness sake," Kol's heart clearly wasn't in the argument anymore, "She crossed me, so I crossed her back. Look, if you could just get me back to my body, I will tell anybody anything that they need to know."

Finn rolled his eyes and used another pain infliction spell to shut him up.

"How narrow-minded of me," Finn looked smugly to Klaus and Elijah, "Rebekah. You don't know where she is, and the only thing standing between you and our sister is this selfish fool."

He dropped the spell.

"Maybe it's time for you to go enjoy the rest of your mortal life while you still can," His hand then turned to a fist, Kol vanished from the room to wake up in his body.

He shoved himself to standing, shocking Gia and Josh, as well as a few other vampires who'd arrived to loiter outside of the room holding unconscious blood source. Their eyes all turned red as they walked towards him.

"Is it too late for an apology?" Kol looked at Sam, checking over Marcel.

Sam stood up, rushing to catch the first one attempting to vamp-speed forward while Marcel rose to pull Kol through the balcony pass and into the magic room before any more could slip through. MJ's room. The fact he's left the room spelled to stop people from getting in wasn't Kol's smartest move, but he wasn't good with being locked in places.

Kol was somewhat impressed Marcel was still with it, "Thanks."

"Oh," He shook his head, face starting to shift, "Don't thank me yet."

Just as he went to rip into his throat, Kol put his arm forward to stop him, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold it!"

He pointed to the window.

"Just for a little while longer."

The sun was setting quickly.

"A few minutes, to be exact."

Marcel frowned through the cold sweats, "What are you talking about?"

"Finn. He plans to release the lot of you at sundown."

Marcel stepped back, rubbing at his face to try and wake up, angrily pacing to keep some space between them.

"The streets will be jam-packed with people right outside the gate."

"And you'll be half-crazed with hunger," Kol added the important bit, "You'll feed your way through the crowd, and that will be the end of vampires secretly living off the fat of New Orleans."

Marcel paused to glare at him, only for Kol's body to shift into Joe's like ghost flashes in a horror movie.

Kol stepped closer to him, snapping his fingers, "Marcel?"

He was utterly out of it, swaying into the nearest chair and swallowing hard, mumbling names Kol didn't know, talking about battle tactics, and looking sicker by the minutes.

"Listen to me," Kol tried to speak clearly, "You are out-maneuverer, out-manned, and, quite frankly, you're...you're out of your mind. And we're not going to get out of this alive."

"No," Marcel forced the words out, "We are all getting out of this alive."

Kol bit his cheek, really looking at him.

He knew what hunger looked like.

When it got to its worse stages, Marcel should've been looking ready to desiccate, but he didn't.

He looked infected.

"You were bitten?" He realised, "Weren't you?"

No response.

"One of the wolves bit you, and now you're hallucinating."

"Klaus is bringing me his blood," Marcel stretched his neck back, "It's fine."

"Klaus is currently passed out until Finn decides he's good and ready to release him."

Kol looked at the clock.

Then he looked at Marcel.

The clock again.

Slowly, gritting his teeth, he turned and started to root through the drawer by the bed.

Marcel started towards him, "What are you doing?"

"Would you relax?"

"Not till you tell me what you're doing."

"Finding this," Kol pulled out a small wooden box filled with vials of blood.

He tossed Marcel one of them.

Marcel eyed it up sceptically, "Feeding will make me go rabid."

"Wouldn't want that now, would we?" Kol rolled his eyes, "Read the label."

Marcel took in the yellow tape, a golden star stuck down for extra detail.

"Yellow for the eyes of a hybrid."

"...This is Klaus's blood?"

"MJ always has some on stand-by," He put it simply, "Doesn't want her friends to be at risk, so keeps the vital ingredients in as many places as possible. I figured she'd probably have some here."

He understood her blood labelling system well enough.

"I was right."

"And you're just giving it to me?" Marcel really looked at the blood, "No strings attached?"

"I am," Kol closed the box and put it back, "Because, while this whole 'being helpful' thing is kind of new to me – as you so wonderfully put it! I am a self-centred weasel who wouldn't know a thing about friendship."

The mocking tone had turned entirely bitter through the phrase.

"I don't need to know about friendship to know she's good at it," He reluctantly looked at it in Marcel's hand, "And...if she were here, she'd give it to you."

Marcel looked ready to give the blood back, "I'm not about to be your friend."

"I'm not trying to be yours, Marcel! I'm trying to be Davina's."

Silence.

"Even when MJ hates somebody, she'll save them if her friends care about them," He was grumbling, face clearly unhappy, but still trying, "Davina cares about you. MJ, for some reason, does too, so I'm giving you your salvation."

He turned to face the window.

"Drink up."

Marcel thought through his options.

"And maybe think about toning down the protective parent act while you're at it," Kol was counting pedestrians, "Because I'm not in the mood."

Two whole minutes passed with the pair of them awkwardly standing, not saying anything.

Marcel caved first, downing it.

"Okay," He put the empty vial down, "I'm not gonna tone down 'the act' because it's not an act."

Kol rolled his eyes again.

"I'm the only family Davina has, and making friends isn't easy with Klaus running around."

The few she had kept having close brushes with death, and it was clearly affecting her.

"Making friends with you? Hardly seems like a good thing considering I lived through you."

"You know fourteen years out of a thousand, Marcellus," Kol retorted, "Here? I was only allotted fourteen years of my family's two hundred."

He quickly did the maths.

"Go on then!" He baited, "Please tell me just how well you know me from all that time you spent as a Mikaelson."

Marcel crossed his arms.

"Fill me in on all the glorious details, because, funnily enough – I don't actually remember a lot of my family's time with you! Pretty sure I was only there for seven per cent of it – pretty sure I was locked in the basement."

"Because I need to know more than those fourteen years?"

Kol didn't respond.

"Exactly."

"Thought you were supposed to be better than us?" He muttered, only half-challenging him now, "Raised by monsters to prove we could be more...figured that might've made you open-minded to how people change."

Marcel's sour face scanned him.

"Anyhow," Kol closed the box and put it back in the draw, "You took the blood. You'll be right as rain soon enough. Go deal with your cohort of underlings."

Marcel didn't move.

"As I said," Kol inhaled slowly, "I'm in a mood, and I'd like to be left alone if you're only going to contribute to it."

Marcel glanced to the door behind him, listening out now his senses were coming back in.

"For God's sake. Leave."

"Why Davina?" Marcel took a step towards him, "If you were only hanging around her to spy on her, why continue?"

"Because, unlike the rest of you, she actually bothered getting to know me."

Marcel didn't like that answer.

"You'd be surprised by the number of things we have in common," Kol moved to perch on the bedside cabinet, "I understand what it's like to have your life thrown about and ripped from you because of factors out of your control. I understand the resentment she feels."

The sun was still relatively up, so they did have a few moments to talk.

"And she clearly needs more people in her life who consistently encourage her to have a good time rather than repeatedly disengage to report back to a man she hates every few months."

"The sire-line isn't my fault."

"But how you act about it is."

The tension between them was a lot higher, thanks to that comment.

"That's none of your business," Marcel moved on to a different topic, "What about MJ then? Because Klaus seemed almost reasonable about letting you guys go off, but now it's like he wants to set you on fire."

"He's mad about Rebekah," Kol stated the obvious, "And he clearly needs MJ here to be somewhat respectful about the fact he wishes he were me."

Marcel couldn't necessarily argue that.

He'd been one of the people who'd assumed Klaus and MJ were either already together or eventually going to hook up.

Instead of sticking on that line of conversation, Marcel shifted it all slightly again, "Did you ever hurt her?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because every point on the long list of shit MJ's been through comes back to me."

Kol faltered at the complete accountability presented to him.

"I wanna know how my times I should add your name to the list of people I need to kill for her," He had been making one, "And I can hear your heartbeat, so don't even try to lie."

Kol scowled, "I never intended to hurt her."

"What does that mean?"

"She went to fight a hybrid. I almost broke her wrist trying to hold her back – which feels reasonable."

He'd let go the second she'd made it clear he was hurting her, but it still sat in his memory as a warning sign.

"And I died."

A complicated entry on the list.

"Hardly my intention to leave her mourning a corpse but a way I hurt her nonetheless."

Marcel opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Kol took that as a slight win after two days of very clear losses, "Rebekah's fine."

Marcel returned to looking like he might hit him.

"I'm not going to have done anything actually dangerous to her on purpose," He grumbled, "Why would I? She's the family member who isn't determined to make me feel like the scum of the earth."

He didn't respond.

"It was payback, nothing more," Kol returned to facing the window, "Now go deal with the masses."

Marcel went to.

But then he stopped himself again.

His hand was on the doorknob, and he didn't look back, but he did talk, "MJ does this thing..."

Alongside his list of 'people to kill for her,' Marcel had a list of similarities.

"She brushes her hair behind her ears and puts her face in her hands," He couldn't say it without letting his voice turn distant, "Watching the world around you like she can see things you can't."

"It's what she does when she's thinking about her place in the universe," Kol smiled softly, "As over-dramatic as that sounds."

After a moment, Marcel nodded, trying to compute the expression with his version of 'Kol Mikaelson.'

"What about it?"

"She gets that from her mum."

Kol raised an eyebrow.

"She gets so much from her mum when it comes to attitude, and honestly? It creeps me out most of the time," Marcel got to his point, "She's not allowed to end up like her mum."

Their quiet was underscored by the lively streets below them.

"Ana wanted her kids to actually live," Marcel declared, "She gave up her own life to make sure they got to grow up, and – and I didn't listen to her advice most of the time."

Because she'd always been giving it in the background.

"A lot of people have been hurt because I ignored her," He sighed, "So her daughter is gonna get to be happy."

Marcel hadn't actually talked to MJ much about her mother since it always felt a little awkward.

"When she first got here, the fact she was involved with your family? Nu-uh," He shook his head, "I was not okay with that. That felt like she was singing herself up for death."

Kol's shoulder's dropped.

"Then I actually got to know her," Marcel smiled despite trying to have a serious conversation, "Sure, more similarities popped up, but so did the differences. The best one? Ana was always a pessimist. MJ? Never."

It was why Marcel liked her paintings. They felt like they held light.

"She was a realist, but her hope was something I think most of us needed last year. And the biggest difference?"

The pain was clear on his face.

"MJ feels real - Ana never did."

And no amount of questions asked changed that.

Something in Kol flickered a little at that declaration.

"Every sentence out of her mouth was rehearsed, so you never really knew what was going on."

'She felt like an identity. One she actually liked; instead of flipping between two.'

Kol had liked the commentary well enough at the time, but knowing that information from Marcel made it more than just a parental observation about MJ.

It was a fear Ana had for her daughter because of her own life, and she'd thanked him for stopping that.

"She was impossible. Amazing company, crazy talented – but impossible," Marcel affirmed, "I knew her for sixteen years."

Since she'd been eighteen.

"Thought we were friends for most of them, was convinced I was in love with her for about half of it."

Never forceful, but never really giving up his hot with her either.

"Then, a year before she dies, she asks me to be her friend, rather than just friendly acquaintances or allies. Fifteen years in."

Kol wanted to laugh.

"The day she dies? I find out she's married, with two pretty grown kids," Marcel was all kinds of conflicted about the situation, "Ana had a way to make you feel like you knew her without ever actually letting you close, and she worked like that because she'd survived a version of hell, way too young."

"I - "

Marcel shook his head to show that he wasn't done talking,

"MJ has too. And there's no one in hell I'm letting her turn into her mum."

Ana Ruiz may have been a badass, but she was incredibly broken.

"As long as you don't pull a 'you' and screw her over?" Marcel was clearly reluctant to finish the sentence, "We're not gonna have a problem."

Kol hated the fact that something in him felt bad for Marcel.

"Still tempted to toss you to the lions for Rebekah, but when it comes to MJ, we're all good."

"And Davina?"

"If she doesn't decide to hate you in a week or two, which is her track record with your family," Marcel's dad mode was back on, "We'll see."

Another silence.

Kol felt a slight relief in his body. The last time someone had given a genuine sounding speech about their feelings towards MJ's future and happiness, it had been Jeremy Gilbert, and as much as Kol hated the guy for killing him, watching from The Other Side had shown that Jeremy had stuck to his sentiments.

With the werewolf venom out of his system, Marcel returned to the courtyard to talk to his vampires to make sure that they didn't screw up and tear through the city once the barrier dropped.

As the spell broke, Kol waited for the vampires to leave first, then found Sam still there, tidying up the place.

"You don't live here," He slid down the railing and into the main space, swinging keys around in his hand.

"Yeah..." Sam sounded disappointed in himself, "Still feels bad to leave the place all messed up like this."

"Except, it's my family house, and you clearly don't like any of my family."

Sam stood up straight to properly talk to him, "Rebekah's okay, I guess."

Kol snorted.

Sam awkwardly looked around.

Two days' worth of moved furniture and discarded blood bags was too much to do alone. Especially when the Mikaelson's had housekeepers pop in every other day to do it anyway. Even if he'd been raised to be a tidy house guest didn't mean he was a traitor to his mother if he left it.

"Your little convo with Marcel was nice and all," He brushed his hands down and grabbed his jacket from a chair, "Though, Davina? She does have people who want her to have fun."

Kol froze, watching him leave, then jogging after the hybrid to join him in the streets.

"You were listening?"

"I'm always listening," Sam waved at someone calling his name from across the street, "The only way to survive in that house is to know how many people are planning to double-cross each other and making sure you're not involved with any of it."

"Well – " Kol didn't actually know what he wanted to say.

"Your family are also kind of the masters of going back on your words."

"Clearly not an Elijah fan."

"Why should I like him?" Sam wasn't fooled by the suits, "Klaus will at least give you a chance to escape by emotionally monologuing at you before he kills you; Elijah will just rip my head off."

Kol almost smiled at the description.

"Let me make myself clear," Sam had to look up to look him in the eye, "Davina has a track record for picking crappy friends, bar like two."

All of the witches she'd ever been friends with Pre-Harvest.

"Your family have hurt her enough."

"And if I hurt her, you'll hurt me?"

"This isn't me threatening you," Sam stepped back, showing that defences were down, "This is me asking you not to use her."

Kol scanned his face.

"Rebekah tried. Klaus too," He genuinely wasn't holding himself in any way that indicated a potential attack, "I just want her to catch a break. So whatever you two are planning? Behind the scenes?"

He hadn't been present for any of the diamond discussions.

"Don't."

But Sam didn't need to know the specifics to know Davina.

"The last thing she needs is someone encouraging this Klaus-hate quest. Because it will get her killed."

"You guys are okay!" Davina was running towards them.

"Davi," Sam's expression instantly changed to a smile.

She jumped in the middle, managing to throw her arms over both of their shoulders, completely missing the tension between them.