a/n:...so...I reached 400 followers. Have no idea what to do other than say thank you <3
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On the fifth day following MJ's departure from New Orleans, the Mikaelson Family were slightly split up. They'd had The Compound to themselves that first night because everyone had been celebrating the wedding in the streets, then The Bayou, but now? The wolves were back in the building, which meant Elijah was across the river in his apartment, and Rebekah was following an ingredients quest out in the city.

That left Klaus and Kol in The Compound – one far more willing to be there than the other.

Four of the pack were in a sparring circle in the courtyard, taking up space and making a lot of noise. Kol could completely understand why Elijah had decided to vacant at the sight of them.

"I need to re-read the draft pages..." He wittered, flicking through the sheets he'd written the night before, "...The unfinished notes might be enough though."

He paused as the cage next to him on the table started squeaking.

"You think they'll be enough, Basil?" He jested, "Qetsiyah's actual Grimoire would've been more helpful but the work-in-progress journals are stuffed with information."

He'd named the mouse on day three, starting to feel bad about referring to it as 'it' while topping up the upsidedown water bottle the cage had come equipped with. Since it was technically MJ's mouse, he hadn't wanted to pick something she wouldn't have, and then he'd remembered one of the films she'd gotten him to watch over Christmas – 'The Great Mouse Detective' and its lead character. She'd also told him that the film was a part of animation history, another reason why she might've named the tiny creature after it.

"You would know that if you were able to read."

The sound of shuffling as the pet scampered about the freshly lain aspen shavings from that morning, sniffing at it to try and find where treats had been hidden.

"So much joy from such simple things – "

His phone beeped, causing both Basil and him to jump, an angry squeak targeted at him for making it so loud. Kol had forgotten his ringer had even been on.

"Relax," He poked a finger into the cage so Basil could sniff it to calm down, "Just a text."

Rebekah telling him to get out of his room because she wanted a family meeting.

He sighed and stood up, heading onto the balcony, where Klaus had just answered the three-way call from Rebekah and Elijah, the phone on speaker like his brother had expected him to join.

"Enough already!" Rebekah complained, the noise of the market behind her, "Come on, Nik. Even you can see that the situation has become awkward!"

"There's nothing awkward about it!" Klaus argued, "Hayley and Hope belong in The Compound, where they are safe."

Which meant Jackson was with them.

"As much as I would like Elijah's help to kill Finn, if his delicate sensibilities are offended by the presence of Hayley's new husband, then he's welcome to continue sulking across the river."

"As I have explained to you repeatedly, brother," Elijah was getting dressed for the day as he talked, "My presence in Algiers is purely to assemble allies."

The excuse he was sticking to.

"And given all the enemies we have afoot in the form of wayward siblings and ancient, maniacal Aunt Dahlia's, I thought you would applaud my efforts."

"If you wanted applause, you wouldn't have dashed off," Kol jabbed, "The speed of which you vanished was almost comical."

They all heard Elijah angered huff through the phone.

"If he doesn't have to live here, why do I?"

Rebekah pulled a face, "Where else would you go?"

"M – "

"And don't you dare say MJ's!" She assumed, "Living in your ex-girlfriend's apartment is not acceptable."

Kol rolled his eyes.

"I don't care if you were technically living there anyway. A break-up means you move out."

"I was going to say," He leant closer to the phone, "My playhouse."

My, not MJ.

"In The Cemetery – where I can sleep without being suffocated by the constant must of werewolves who think having a natural stench is the same as having a personality."

"Living in a graveyard!" Rebekah cringed, "That's somehow sadder than living in your ex's place."

"It's where Davina and I can get to work on reforming my body."

"As much as Davina would be a useful ally," Elijah spoke up, "We've already covered this matter. You will be staying in your body – "

"No, I bloody – "

" – Until you are in a suitable mindset to return to your usual one."

"You can't actually stop me," Kol scoffed, "I have magic."

"I can have Niklaus keep you from leaving that house pretty easily, given the human strength you now possess."

"Fun piece of advice for the man raising a witch," Kol looked to Klaus, "You can't ground them when they misbehave. I'll escape."

The gleam in his eyes at the words had Klaus chuckling.

"A master of furtiveness."

"Sure you will," Rebekah mused.

"And what's that supposed to mean, Bekah?"

"That if you actually wanted to be elsewhere, you would've left already."

Kol glowered.

"You've been wandering around that building for five days now."

"I've not been 'wandering about' – I've been looking at spells."

"You can admit that you don't want to leave the house on your own, Kol," She reasoned, "None of us would judge you for being cautious after everything. Especially with Finn still out there."

"I'm not that fragile," He huffed, "If I was, why would I want to be in my playhouse– "

"Can you please stop calling it a 'playhouse' – "

" – Finn is in The Cemetery – "

" – It makes it sound inherently kinky."

"If I was scared, that would be the last place I'd pick," He glared at the device, "But I'm not scared."

"Then you can come find me at the Tremé Market," She challenged, "And help with my shopping list."

Kol shifted.

"You've both drifted from the topic," Klaus took over the conversation.

"You two drifted first," Rebekah defended, "Talking about Jackson rather than staying focused on what's best for Hope's safety."

"I would like nothing more than to talk about that," Elijah expressed.

Klaus nodded, "And, I am doing exactly that!"

"See?" Rebekah's tone was patronising, "You're on the same team."

She paused to look at something.

"Conflict resolved, crisis averted; Kol can either stay in his room or come help me work out what half of my list actually looks like."

"Witch training," The brother in question turned up his nose, "Learn what they look like yourself."

"I'll come back to The Compound and walk with you if that'd help."

"I'm fine, Bekah."

"And if that's all you really called to discuss," Klaus retook possession of his phone, "You can call him directly rather than using up my battery."

He hung up.

Kol seem conflicted between being annoyed at his older brother's direct action and relaxing because of it.

"Rebekah has a point," Klaus scrunched up his nose, "Don't want you turning into an invalid."

"I'm not," His expression was hard, "I'm busy."

"Sure."

"If you have something to say, Nik – "

"I'd rather have you in a form more useful to me," He scanned the body, "I just didn't expect for you to be so willing to give the magic up again."

Kol clenched his jaw.

"You only spent a thousand years trying to get it back."

He gritted his teeth.

"And Mira's current state hardly makes it seem like she would turn anytime soon."

"Butt out of it."

"Finn will be dealt with, but what then?" Klaus leant back on the railing, "Once there's no anger to drive you – "

"You know what," Kol pointed at him while walking backwards, "I think I'm going to take Rebekah up on her offer."

"Kol – "

"A walk through the city sounds a hell of a lot more fun than letting you, of all people, try to psychoanalyse me."

"All my life!" Klaus put on a fake weeping voice, "All I ever wanted was for you lot to care about me!"

"I take it back!"

The door to Kol's room slammed shut behind him as he grabbed a jacket.

Luckily, before he actually had to process the fact he was going to walk through the city on his own for the first time since he'd been hexed, he got a message from Elijah to meet him outside. Something had happened to Rebekah in the few moments since the end of the phone call, and he was needed to help with it.

~***~

MJ was walking through the corridor of Ric's old apartment building. She felt exhausted, lugging each foot forward to get to the stairwell, oddly hot. She always felt warm, but it was a different kind of hot. A clammy kind. Like 'shirt sticking to her stomach' levels of damp.

That wasn't the only problem.

She was walking through Ric's apartment building, but she wasn't quite sure how she'd ended up there.

The cheap lights of the building were buzzing over her head, causing her eyes to burn like she was hungover, and, though MJ was confused, she wasn't all too surprised. Falling asleep on Bonnie's lap was the first time she'd conked out properly since her break-up with Kol, where she'd fallen asleep peacefully in his arms.

Given how nightmarish her sleep had become, and how she seemed to have no control of her magic during it, it wasn't all too out there to think she'd managed to somehow teleport to Ric's out of some desperate quest to feel safe.

The quest had failed.

She'd woken up, just as panicky, crying her eyes out as the feeling of her brother's heart weighed her hand down.

MJ hated her head.

Whenever she'd fall into the nightmare, her memories seemed to merge, tricking her into thinking she'd been the one holding her mother's heart through the crack in the cupboard door. If her brother's death wasn't bad enough, it took on a whole new horrid meaning when presented like that in her dreams.

She reached the steps, about to head down to the lobby, when she was yanked back, a hand in her hair.

The fingers tightened, catching on knots and twisting until she was squirming to get free, a searing pain filling her entire body in retaliation.

"You're not meant to flinch, MJ," Kai's voice whispered in her ear, "When will you stop flinching?"

"Kai – " She could barely get her words out through the need to scream, "What's – I – "

"Shh, shh, shhh," His lips were pressing into her temple, "Come on now, bunny. We both know you're secretly enjoying this."

She shoved her elbow back and shot up, "Let me go!"

Before MJ could process her change in scenery, her hand was flying up, a scream propelling out of her body and throwing the nearest person into the bedroom door, a knife from her bag following the blast.

"Stop – Stop – STOP!" She screeched, closing her eyes and shaking her head furiously as the weapon buried deeper into him.

"MJ!" Tyler choked out.

Everything went still.

Her eyes opened.

She was sitting up in her bed at the Salvatore House, surrounded by the mess she'd made through her nights there; Tyler magically held against her door a knife in his throat.

"Stop it," She covered her eyes, shaking her head again, "It's not real – you know it's not real, MJ."

"MJ – "

"Kai's just playing with you. You wouldn't – you didn't – you couldn't."

Each second, more blood poured out, and Tyler's skin turned paler.

"You can wake up."

Nothing was changing.

"Just wake up!"

She should've been in charge of her own head.

Nothing happened.

As her palms moved back to the duvet, eyes properly settling on the body of her best friend, the panic evident in his eyes, MJ had to come to one horrifying conclusion.

He was fighting the magic to try and reach his neck, "Real."

"Oh my god," MJ lunged up from the bed, stumbling across the floor while letting him drop, "Don't touch it!"

She'd hit a major artery, ready to cry, wrapping her fingers around the bottom of the penknife and chanting, trying to get through the words before it was too late.

Chanting, and chanting, and chanting, sliding the blade up and out.

His skin healed up, a mark still there as proof she'd really stabbed him, unable to fully fix it without trying to tap into her unreliable and pain-inflicting Floare magic again. Just because half of the magic was chill with her didn't mean the other half wouldn't put up a fight if she toe-dipped into it.

"Ty," She was terrified to hug him, watching how he panted, patting the spot to check it was really gone, "I'm – I'm so – "

Her feet were backing her away, hitting the foot of the bed.

"I'm so sorry."

He took a beat, nodded, then cautiously moved to meet her.

MJ fell onto the mattress in her attempt to shuffle away, trying to stop him from making contact, only for Tyler to have far more control over his movements, stopping her with a tight hug.

"Don't Tyler," She'd hurt him, "I'm so sorry – I – "

"You didn't mean to," His voice was strained, "It's okay."

"You don't have to say that."

"I do."

"You don't."

"Fine, I don't have to," He nodded into her shoulder, pulling her back to the edge of the bed, "But I'm going to."

She could've killed him.

If she'd waited a minute or two longer to accept reality, Tyler would've died, and it would've been all her fault. He wasn't a hybrid anymore – he wasn't even a werewolf. Just Tyler. Very mortal and very at risk because of her.

Ric had a point.

Danger followed her – but she was right too.

It wasn't because of the Mikaelson's. She was dangerous, and she needed to start taking action to fix her issues rather than let her issues control her.

"You told us not to wake you up," He stepped away, "I shouldn't have woken you up."

That shouldn't have been a rule in their lives.

Waking up a friend shouldn't involve putting your life at risk.

MJ officially wanted to disappear all over again.

"Um," Tyler tried to ignore the blood that had dripped onto the floor, "I got your text."

MJ just nodded.

"You're heading off?"

"Once Bonnie's settled," Her voice was almost inaudible.

"That's good," He managed a smile.

"Tyler – "

"I know," He put a hand up, "You're sorry."

"Let me say it again?"

"...Okay."

"I'm sorry."

"Forgiven."

She didn't want to be forgiven; she wanted to stop being a life hazard.

"I have a bit of an announcement," He sat on the end of the bed, "I'm not actually gonna be leaving."

"What?"

"Matt suggested I join the police program."

MJ's eyes went wide.

"I don't know if it'll help, but it's something," He seemed to relax, "And, I mean, I don't know what I wanna do or where I'm gonna end up, but I need something."

"Tyler," MJ spoke carefully, "Not to burst your bubble if you do really wanna do it..."

"I want you to burst it," He declared, "I wanted to talk to you about it because I wanted to talk it out."

She smiled fondly at him.

"Come on," He nodded, "Lay it all on me."

"The police carry guns," She went for the obvious point, "If you shoot someone, and you kill them?"

"I'm a werewolf again," He sighed, "Yeah, I think Matt was more focused on giving me something, than that."

"Which is nice of him," She tried to sound upbeat, "You're right. It's good to have something, and you'll never figure out what you wanna be unless you try stuff out."

He smiled back at her.

"And if something happens, I have a way to give you full control over the shifts," She reminded him, "A way that isn't just becoming a hybrid again."

"That's true."

"And that's not me encouraging you to trigger it!" She quickly added, "But, it's me not wanting you to limit yourself out of fear of triggering it."

He rested into her.

"You still okay with me leaving if you're sticking around?"

"MJ," He spoke sternly, "Get your out of here as soon as you possibly can."

She laughed.

"And feel free to wake up like that, stabbing Klaus, as many times as it takes."

She laughed more.

"And video it for me."

"Will do."

Looking at him made her feel icky inside, the mark on his neck reminding her that she'd almost killed him. That he had to act unreasonably good with her because she was a mess, while his own life was anything but perfect. She was ready to love Tyler from afar, so he could try and find himself a little.

"I brought some papers," He admitted, "And this."

He pulled an envelope out of a small bag.

"After Liz's funeral, I had a meeting with the family lawyer to officialise all the trust fund stuff, and I got all your papers sorted."

"I'm not twenty-one until August," MJ felt really odd about accepting the money.

"I know," He smiled smugly, "And you won't have access until then."

She snorted.

"But it's all set up and waiting for you."

"Tyler..."

"Nope," He pointed at her firmly, "You're not getting out of this."

"It feels wrong!"

"The money's mine and I wanna share it with you."

"But it is yours."

"And now it's yours too."

She stared at him.

"The envelope has your card, and the papers just need your signature."

"I really can't."

"You technically owned the estate for a year."

A point he'd already made.

"And if my mum had lived through Christmas, she was going to give you adoption papers."

MJ froze.

"She wasn't going to make you sign them," He'd told Kol, which meant he needed to tell her, "But, she got them all written out in case...you know...you did ever want in."

"...Are you serious?"

"They're still in one of the drawers in her office."

She didn't know how to process that.

"After Ric, she wanted you to feel settled, and she knew you loved your real parents, which is why she wasn't going to force anything," He rambled, "She was just going to have them there, so you knew that you were wanted."

MJ's heart was glowing.

Klaus had killed Carol, and she was going home to him, but Tyler's admission didn't actually make her feel worse. In a way, it helped. Carol wanted her to feel settled. She was settled in New Orleans, and that's all she'd ever wanted for her.

"Obviously, it never happened, but," He handed her the information, "I can do this instead."

"You really don't have to."

"Again, MJ," He gave her a look, "I want to."

She finally accepted it.

"Just sign the bottom. I'll make copies and post them to your apartment once it's all up and running, and then," Tyler grinned, "You're officially stuck with me for life."

"Wouldn't have it any other way Lock-wolf."

Her eyes dropped to his wrist, where he was still wearing the three Floare charms.

He noticed where she was looking, "You still cool with me having these?"

"One hundred per cent."

She didn't have a family bank account she could share, but she did have heritage, and minor protective magic that she knew would keep him far safer than it would keep her. A way for him to carry her with him, no matter the city they were in.

It was also a good idea for him to have them now she'd officially broken two of the stones.

She didn't want adding any more to even be an option.

Then MJ looked to the clock, "Shit."

"What?"

"I was only out for two hours!"

She would've accepted the awful wake-up if it had at least been six, but no. Only two hours.

Damon must've carried her to bed or something.

"Then back to bed you go."

"Nooo," She complained.

"Yesss," He dragged the word out, getting up, "I'm driving Bonnie to Whitmore in the morning so she can see everyone else, which means I need sleep."

Which meant leaving her to crash.

"If I don't see you again before you go?"

"Love you."

"Love you too."

He was gone, and MJ was again left to face her most difficult foe; the pillow.

She had to think seeing Kai the previous day was part of the problem.

All her nightmares had been pretty general up to that point. Horrifying, but general. And, her wake-up reaction was just a really obnoxious reflex since she didn't feel safe. But Kai was trying. Kai had apparently grown feelings, which meant MJ needed to find a way to move forward with her life too. She didn't want to have to live with a demon in her dreams forever.

~***~

Rebekah had been having a bit of a tough time with her new body. The decision to stay as a witch was universally accepted for several reasons. The main one being, staying there gave Kol no excuse to leave his. The second, unspoken reason – they needed witches. MJ was out of town, and Davina wasn't an ally to anyone but Kol, and they were dealing with magical enemies.

Even once MJ came home to them, which her brothers were sure she'd do, having another witch around would definitely help her cope. She and Kol could work together so she wasn't the only witch power resource.

Getting used to all the witch things around New Orleans had been one of the first tasks he'd set her.

Rebekah had been using MiMiPasare as a bit of a guide to help her adjust. MJ had a range of spells posted, tidbits and tricks for people learning new styles, as well as mountains of catch-up reading for supernatural history she needed to actually understand the things Kol had suggested teaching her. Four days meant beginner sessions showing how little she seemed to know.

She'd gone on an ingredient hunt in the Tremé area, only to get attacked.

As a baby witch, defending herself wasn't easy, but luckily, Marcel had been there to save the day, taking her back to his apartment across the river.

He poured two drinks at the makeshift bar, checking his watch, then looking back at her.

Rebekah was pacing in front of the couch.

He finally cracked, "You haven't spoken a word for thirty minutes."

She didn't respond.

He stared at the clock on his wrist, seeing the hand complete another cycle.

"Thirty-one."

No response.

He sighed, sitting on the barstool and focusing on her.

Rebekah tensed, very aware of his eyes on her new body, forcing herself to keep moving, looking at everything but him.

"Fine," His face was full of frustration, "I'll answer for you."

His first sip.

"Thank you for rescuing me, Marcel. It's so good of you to still care...even though no one told you I was back...even though you literally saw me in a cemetery with the rest of my family."

"I asked them not to."

He managed a smile, "There she is."

Then he processed what she'd actually said.

"Why?"

"It's complicated."

"You think?"

She gave an exasperated sigh, "How did you find me, anyway?"

"I knew you were you," He put his drink down, "I knew you were up to something. So I followed you."

She crossed her arms, stilling her pacing.

"And it's a good thing that I did," Marcel walked towards her, "That market is bad news. The Tremé witches are not friendly to outsiders."

That was obvious due to the way they responded to her.

"What were you doing there?"

"I was looking for anything that could help boost my magic," She justified, "MJ has this map of the city in her room, labelled the areas based on witch power – among a number of other colour coded things."

"So," He nodded falsely, "You knowingly walked into a danger hotspot?"

"I need to learn magic," She defended, "Strong magic. Not amateur-hour witchcraft!"

"You shouldn't be messing around with that kind of magic as an amateur-hour witch."

"For Hope, I need to."

"Look," Marcel held up a finger to get her to stop, "I get you're trying to help your family, but you're new at this. Shouldn't you be taking baby steps?"

"We barely know what we're dealing with, but we know we'll need power," Rebekah reasoned, "I'll skip as many steps as I please."

"Bex – "

"Learning the nature bending stuff takes some weight off MJ."

Marcel's eyes jumped to the painting he had hung on the back wall.

He cleared his throat, "Have you spoken to her recently?"

"No."

"Seriously?"

"None of us have."

Marcel crossed his arms, "That's not good."

"Nik told us not to."

"And you listened!?" Marcel put his hands out, "Letting her leave town was the wrong call."

"It wasn't," Rebekah shook her head, "I was 'you' when she first left, but Klaus and Kol made good points."

"It's Klaus," Marcel argued, "He always makes good points, doesn't mean he's right – and of course Kol agrees. He probably wants her out of town so he can let loose getting revenge without having to feel bad about her morals."

"Have you spoken to her?"

"I sent a few texts."

"And has she responded to any of them?"

His face faltered.

"Exactly," Rebekah lifted her chin, "When MJ's sad, she thinks she's an imposition, so until she's ready to 'face us' or whatever she's worried about, she won't want to talk to any of us."

Marcel frowned.

"I'll call her soon. God knows I need her help. But she needs a time out."

"Agreed," He mumbled, "But she could've had that here. We have spa retreats."

She couldn't exactly argue that.

"And then we'd at least be able to see her, you know; eating, sleeping, and breathing."

Rebekah had almost texted MJ a few times since she'd left, but she was trying to hold off. They all had a betting circle going about who'd crack and call her first, and she didn't want to lose, and she also didn't want to throw MJ into the fight if she wasn't ready. But she really missed her friend, and she really needed some guidance on how to be a witch. From someone who wasn't her ready-to-rage slightly emotionally out of it brother.

"I've got to admit," She started slowly, "I always knew she was good at magic, but actually being a witch?"

Rebekah shook her head.

"I don't know how she does it."

Marcel smiled sadly.

"She makes keeping up with us look easy."

"Eh," He took a seat on the sofa arm, "Her mum was the same. Just bled magic."

Rebekah fiddled with her fingers, "What was her mum like?"

"Strongest witch I'd ever met," He rubbed his neck, "Until MJ."

She smiled.

"Which is worryingly insane since Ana was in a whole new category of dangerous," He tilted his head, "And until she's back to help you, you need to be more careful."

"I can take care of myself."

"All evidence to the contrary – "

"Don't be condescending just because you got to play hero for one tiny moment."

"One tiny saved-your-ass-from-certain-death moment?"

As her mouth opened to respond, Elijah rushed in, worry across his face, Kol right behind him, hair a little messy since he'd just been vamp-sped there by his elder brother.

"Are you alright?"

Rebekah headed straight to him while Marcel pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

"Barely," She admitted, "The attackers knew me, Elijah. Not me-me, but – "

She gestured to her body.

"This. Her. Whoever she is."

Elijah tensed, both of them looking to the other sibling in the room.

"They want her dead, Kol."

"I never met her," He pointed out, "I just picked a room in the madhouse and used representational magic."

Marcel scowled, "Guess you should've run a background check."

"Where's the fun in that?"

Rebekah glared, "There's no fun when I'm the one getting hunted."

"It will be fine," Elijah remained calm, "We'll find these people and show them why their anger is unwise."

"You don't want to mess with that crowd," Marcel tried to shut that plan down, "We want answers? We need to ask Josephine La Rue."

The Originals turned to face him.

"She serves as matriarch to the covens outside The Quarter," He explained, "She'll know who wants Rebekah dead and why."

"How can you be sure?" Rebekah asked.

"She bankrolls Fauline Cottage."

Elijah straightened up in surprise.

"She'll know who you are and why you were locked up in there."

"And what if she wants to lock me right back up?" Rebekah protested, "I won't go back to that horrid place — "

"You three see what you can find out about the body you now possess," Elijah stopped her, "I shall pay a visit to Josephine."

"Or I could do anything other than stay with the probably quarrelling 'lovebirds,'" Kol pulled a face, "I'll go with you."

"You're not coming with me."

"You're meeting a witch," He tried for a charming smile, "Witches love me."

Everyone was really looking at him.

It was nowhere near as bad as when he was dying, but he certainly seemed paler than usual.

And tired.

It wasn't like anything disastrous had happened since MJ had left, but part of Rebekah's solo quest to The Quarter came from the fact Kol wasn't really focused on helping her. He was rushing around the magic room, trying to re-read and re-learn everything he'd known for centuries, despite most of MJ's versions of spells requiring more power than his body possessed.

"Both of you will stay here, and stay safe."

"Elijah – "

"If it's my body we're dealing with," Rebekah shot Kol a look, "Surely I should go."

Elijah put a hand carefully on Rebekah's face.

"You are not who you once were," His voice went soft, "These bodies are too vulnerable."

She rolled her eyes in irritation, Kol's stance pretty similar.

"You acknowledge that we're weaker like this," He called out, "Yet you won't let me return to my 'Original' model?"

"You would be safer; the rest of the city would not."

"You talk as if I wasn't a vampire for a thousand years," He defended, "I know what I'm getting into, and I can handle it."

"Mm," Marcel butted in, "As the person trying to run the vampires right now, we don't need you blood-lusting it through The Quarter and giving the new ones bad ideas."

"And I wouldn't!" His eyes blazed, "I chose to act like that. And, if you'd just – "

"You're staying here," Elijah ordered.

"I'm coming," He repeated, "I refuse to play babysitter."

"Be grateful I'm only tasking you with Rebekah," Elijah turned to face him with a smile, "It could be Hope."

"Hope's screams would be less torturous."

"Hey!"

"And her tantrums far less dramatic."

"Says the person currently throwing one!"

"I want to meet the Regent," Kol ignored Rebekah's interruptions.

"You will stay with your sister," Elijah walked towards the door, "You got her into this mess. You make sure it doesn't get her hurt."

He rolled his eyes, "Fine."

Before Elijah could leave, Marcel sped in his way.

"Elijah," He shook his head, "Josephine is an eccentric old bat with no love for vampires."

He motioned for Elijah to back into the room.

"Your charms might not work as well as you think."

He smirked, "My charms are quite adaptable, Marcellus, I assure you."

"Nu-uh."

"Someone needs to talk to her."

"And to link back to the conversation I just had with Rebekah," Marcel held himself carefully, "We need to call MJ."

Elijah looked bored with the suggestion.

"This isn't even about us anymore," He added, "I don't want to get her involved unless she wants in, but she was trying to arrange a meeting with Jo the past few months anyway."

"That's true," Kol realised, "They were supposed to meet about MJ getting the final Harvest girl out of the madhouse."

Rebekah froze at that announcement, but luckily, it went unnoticed.

"The Garden District finally got back to her about it, but then...everything else happened."

"Oh," Marcel chuckled a little, "Jo will definitely want to meet her."

Elijah and Kol turned to him, raised eyebrows.

"MJ's mum was her protégé."

Another link to his conversation with Rebekah.

"Ana Ruiz was a hurricane of power and attitude."

The way Marcel said her name just made it feel powerful.

"The strongest witch to walk the city, took no shit from anybody, and she made me 'amenable.'"

Rebekah mimed gagging.

"Not in that way," He smirked at the reaction, "Nice to know you're jealous, though."

"See what you're leaving me with, Elijah," Kol whined, "They'll be excruciating."

Elijah rolled his eyes, "Keep talking, Marcellus."

"Her stances ticked off all the old elders," Marcel explained, "All of them except Jo."

MJ hadn't actually found out the Regent's name before leaving.

"She won her over. And since she was the Regent, everyone else had to back down until The French Quarter started to revolt. And, Jo was a musician. She'd only ever meet with me if Ana played for us first."

"...Good to know," Elijah started to smile, "What instrument?"

"Ana was mainly a pianist, specialised in jazz after moving here."

MJ had told Kol her mum hadn't liked classical pieces.

"Jo likes the violin the most, hence – MJ. She's your ticket in."

"I think I'll manage on my own," Elijah dismissed, steps filled with confidence.

Rebekah was growling at the instructions she'd been giving, Marcel not in much of a better mood but accepting his job for the day. Investigating Rebekah's host. Kol glared after Elijah before looking back at Marcel.

"Let's get started then."

"We start with getting your girlfriend back to town."

Kol gritted his teeth, "She's staying out of this."

"And she's not his girlfriend anymore."

"Didn't need to point it out again, Bekah."

"But it's funny to watch you get all bent out of shape about it," She smiled 'sweetly' at him, flopping on the sofa, "And I think I can say what I want considering you're little body swap got me on a hit-list."

He clicked his teeth.

She had a point.

"I need to go in your head," He announced.

"No chance."

"The host's consciousness is still there," Kol came closer to the sofa while Marcel eyed him up, "I can tap into her mind and find out what she did."

Rebekah didn't look too pleased with the plan.

"Or I can call someone," Marcel suggested, "I still have a few people who'd be willing to help."

"So she'll trust a stranger with her head more than her own brother?"

"Her brother left her stranded in a strangers body the entire Christmas Season."

"She got me daggered for a Century!"

Rebekah sat up, "That's why you did it?"

"What did you think it was for?"

"I came up with a list of possible offences."

Kol pointed at her, looking at Marcel, "She admits that she clearly deserved it!"

"Deserving it and letting you control my consciousness again are two different things," She defended, "No – "

"Rebekah," He sat down on the table so he could face her, "I know what I'm doing."

She pursed her lips.

"I'll talk you through all of it, so you can do it too, meaning that if I have a laugh, you can do it right back at me."

Though, he could still lie with what he said.

"And if I don't mess you about, you'll have learnt something useful."

After a moment, she nodded.

"Do you have a tea set lying around?" Kol asked Marcel.

"Surprisingly enough, no," Marcel had crossed his arms, "Not something I just have on hand."

"Well, we'll need one."

~***~

Instead of even trying to sleep, MJ spent a bit of time packing up her things so she could bounce. Then, she'd found one of her old sketchbooks from a past stay in the Salvatore House, and she let herself finish it. Moving pens and pencils over the bumpy pages kept her wholly occupied.

In the prison world, her graffiti art had kept her going, but since she'd come back, she really hadn't done much, but god, she'd clearly needed to. Her hands were meant to create.

After five hours practically flew by, her eyes were hurting, stomach begging for food, so she moved 'Get Back To Work' further up her to-do list. She needed to be productive. MJ knew she was happiest when she had lots of things going on, and she had no qualms about getting Klaus to compel her old boss for her.

By the time it reached the morning, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in."

"You in a fireball mood?" Damon's voice, "Or is it safe?"

"Safe."

He stepped in, holding a croissant on a plate, and a coffee mug, taking her in.

Pen and paint-stains the sides of her fingers, and despite the lack of sleep, she seemed okay.

MJ narrowed her eyes as the mug and plate were offered to her, "What do you want?"

"Why do I have to want anything?"

"You wouldn't bring me breakfast unless you wanted something."

He put the plate down, "I might."

"Hm."

"After you fell asleep, Bonnie showed me this video," He put the coffee in her hand, "She saw someone in the prison world she passed through; the camera got their face."

"And?"

"It was my mother."

MJ stilled.

"I thought she died of consumption."

"But if she was in the Prison World - "

"She can't be!" He declared, hands going out, "But – "

"Better safe than sorry."

He nodded.

"And me?"

"...I," Damon looked down, "I don't want to open my mum's grave alone."

MJ didn't know if she'd ever find the right amount of words to thank Marcel for handling the body the day she became an elder. And she had offered Damon some sympathy after she'd torn into him the previous morning.

"Your girlfriend?"

"Currently reuniting with her best friend."

She put on a smile, "Then, let's do this."

"You're in?"

"I'm in."

"Seriously?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because we don't like each other."

"Very true."

"And aren't you gonna head to Whitmore to help celebrate Bonnie's return?"

"Nope."

Damon raised an eyebrow, "You're not?"

"I wanna celebrate Bonnie," She assured him, "Just not while she's doing her time with everyone else."

He wasn't following.

"Look," MJ sighed, "I know you love her and all, but I had to listen to the words 'I'm the master of grief' come out of Elena's mouth yesterday."

She'd planned to avoid Elena post-revival, and she was getting back to that.

"And I don't really wanna hear her voice ever again. Or deal with her trying to be 'nice' instead of just apologising."

He looked slightly uncomfortable.

MJ's list of 'Healthy Life Choices;'

- Ending the cycle of disagreement with Ric
- Leaving Mystic Falls and properly leaving it behind (no more coming back every week)
- Knowing she wasn't healthy enough to take on Caroline and Tyler's own problems
- Getting over her attachment to Elena leftover from Junior Year.

"I appreciate that she actually did me a solid by going on Caroline duty yesterday, but it's just not good for either of us to spend extended time with each other."

"...Fair enough."

Their day started at the cemetery, the Salvatore Crypt specifically.

That was when Damon revealed the real reason he'd been bribing her with breakfast pastries.

Kai was waiting for them.

The moment MJ saw his face, she forced herself to remain calm.

Her dream was the prison world psycho version of him. He had emotions now.

She tried for a smile greeting, manners forcing her to put on a good face, but instead of speaking, she just pulled out her phone and texted Caroline.

'Ready to let me check in with you yet? :)'

'Sorry I didn't end up coming to the funeral.'

- I told you not to MJ <3

'I know, but I still feel bad about it.'

- I honestly don't care.

- As long as you were sleeping and getting better

She hadn't been.

She'd been calling it quits on Ric and bawling her eyes out, but that was beside the point.

'I'll see you later?'

- Defo.

By the time Damon had sorted out his mother's coffin, getting it out of its spot in the crypt, he was clearly starting to regret the situation.

MJ slid the phone away, moving in closer.

"We don't have to open it," Her tone was soft, "I can do a magic check."

He looked at her, then shook his head, "I have to do this."

Before Damon did anything, he pulled the camera out of his jacket pocket. Bonnie had hijacked a camera from 1994 to vlog her entire escaping experience, as well as her goodbye messages, though MJ hoped they never had to watch footage like that ever again.

He pressed play, letting a flickering clip play.

A woman with a thin face, light eyes, and black hair, asking who Bonnie was.

The eyes were the same colour as Damon's, yet the shape was closer to Stefan's. Everything seemed like it should've been more Damon, colour-wise, but it managed to remind her of Stefan. Maybe that was just because she thought about Stefan more than Damon?

Kai stood far too close for comfort behind them, "I can't believe Bonnie made it out."

His voice had her stepping forward.

Then MJ felt awful.

She'd put up with years of people stepping away from her, and he was trying.

"Actually, I can."

As he talked, Damon put the camera away and picked up a crowbar.

"She's plucky."

He started to shove it into the side of the coffin.

"Hey, do you need help?"

Before Damon could respond, Kai continued his roll.

"Oh. Before you answer that, I'd rather not," He walked further into the room of caskets, "I don't actually want to, but I keep experiencing these pangs of guilt watching you."

He sat on a different one.

"Feelings are hard."

He could say that again.

"Those feelings are actually pretty easy," MJ rested against the tomb wall, "It's called empathy."

Or pathos?

"The contrasting emotions are when it gets hard."

"Such as?"

"Circumventing the death of your boyfriend," Her easiest example, "After he's killed by one of your most trusted friends. Because he was trying to de-limb him."

Jeremy had been in a hard position.

"And that friend gets killed himself; before you can really process the betrayal and the abandonment or the hatred."

Kai pulled a face.

"And to top it off," MJ put a hand up, "That murderer was also one of your other friends, and you've just cursed out his sister, so are lowkey blaming yourself for it even happening."

"Interesting," He nodded, "I don't want your life."

"Said everyone, ever."

"Lesson to take away," Damon tried to sound light-hearted, "Don't climb into bed with psycho-killers."

"You – "

"And I'm referring to Katherine and the Original."

"Still jealous Kitty-Kat liked me more?"

He stuck his tongue out.

"You do realise," She quipped, "If people actually followed that advice, you would be incredibly sexually frustrated."

"Touché."

If MJ could get through the mess that was her senior year, she could get through anything.

"Speaking of psycho-killers," Kai put his hand up, "Can I ask why we're digging up mummy's grave?"

She tried not to let his voice bother her.

"That's dark!" He declared, "Even for me – and, it's totally unnecessary."

Damon glared at the coffin, fiddling with the crowbar again.

"Bonnie saw her in the 1903 Prison World," Kai motioned to the camera MJ had ended up with, "It's on camera, like, do you need to watch it again or something?"

"My mother died of consumption in 1858."

"And no one's really dead until you see the body," MJ spoke movie logic, "And we did not go through the trouble of moving this thing to not even open it."

He placed his hand on the brown box lid.

"And you called me here because you needed a second friend?" Kai came to join them too, "No!"

MJ gave him a look that read, 'shut up.'

He didn't.

"You wanted to know if she could exist in another prison world," Kai summed up the very brief conversation they'd had before entering the crypt, "To which I responded, 'yes,' to which you responded with denial."

"Whatever or whoever's on that tape," Damon gritted his teeth, "It's not her. "

"Then who is it?"

"I don't know," He grunted, "A ghost? Maybe she has an evil Gemini twin."

Kai laughed, "Nice. "

"If my mother was imprisoned in 1903, she'd be in her 70's."

"Not if she was like you," MJ tapped the coffin, "Are you sure you don't want me to just check?"

He didn't respond.

"Damon?"

"No."

"I can't wait to find out vampirism runs in the family," Kai grinned.

"I know my mother," Damon spun to target all his anger on Kai, "She's not a vampire. She is not in a prison world."

He stressed all his consonants.

"She died of consumption in 1858."

The crowbar was flying out of his hand, clanging against the concrete floor loudly, causing MJ to flinch, take a beat to calm herself down, then briefly scan to make sure she hadn't set off any fires.

She hadn't.

Damon wasn't moving.

"If you're so sure of that, why haven't you opened the coffin yet?"

Damon went to jump him.

MJ flicked her hands up to freeze, "Damon."

She spoke slowly.

"Whatever the truth is, we'll deal," She let him free, "But we'll never know unless we look."

Damon shoved the lid off, smashing it to the ground too.

The coffin was empty.

"Congratulations," Kai patted him on the shoulder, "Everything you know about your mum is wrong."

"Been there," MJ sighed.

Kai headed out of the tomb to give them a minute, MJ following so Damon could process without potentially lashing out and doing something stupid to her. Considering the way she'd reacted after going through everything about her own mother, she'd probably give him a bit of leeway for a few days. A task that should've been easy enough considering she was going to leave town that night.

"So," Kai started as they moved about the trees, "Am I forgiven yet?"

She didn't respond.

"Considering you still look like trash," He commented, "I'm going to go with no?"

"Kai," MJ sighed, "Do you genuinely think I'm ever going to forgive you?"

He shrugged.

"Why would I?"

He tilted his head, "Because part of you clearly wants to."

She rolled her eyes.

"I've been in your head, MJ," He pointed at her, "More than once."

She didn't need to be reminded of that after her morning.

"And," Kai's voice became more confident, which was impressive considering he never spoke with much doubt, "I've done some reading these past few months."

"On what?"

"Chambre De Chasse's."

MJ raised an eyebrow, "And?"

"That and sleep preservation spells – I thought it was a fascinating idea," He was ready to ramble, and she let him have it, "It might've worked too, but Damon woke me up."

If she had a dime for every time one of her plans would've worked, she'd be pretty rich.

"And while I was reading, I found something interesting," His feet were fidgeting, "They're hunt rooms."

MJ bit into her cheek.

"You were supposed to have mental target practise on me, but you didn't try anything."

She'd just spoken to him.

She'd confessed things and listened to him talk, and he'd played her.

"That's how I know you're gonna forgive me," Kai wore a goofy grin on his face, "Because even if you get antsy at me for talking about how we belong in each other's lives, part of you accepts it."

"You're really not gonna stop, are you?" MJ realised, "You watched me cry over almost losing the love of my life, yet you're still pushing this weird soulmate crap."

"I don't wanna be your boyfriend!" He shook his head, "Gross – Bonnie's far more my type – but you?"

She prepared herself.

"I'm the one who's gonna get you to your potential – because I'm never gonna think of you as a threat the way everyone else does," He put his hands on his chest, "I'm never going to make you feel bad for being powerful."

Which was almost what it felt like Ric had been unintentionally doing.

"Because I'm always going to think of you as Mira Jung Floare-Ruiz. Talented witch, siphoner, person."

She couldn't look away from how at ease he seemed.

"And when the moment comes, when you accept yourself, you'll have forgiven me without even realising it."

~***~

Rebekah was pacing around the table in Marcel's open-plan living room, a notebook in her hand, half-making notes about what Kol was doing, half biting the nail of her thumb, lost in thought. Kol's eyes kept jumping from the table to her, not sure if he wanted to prompt her to start talking or if he wanted to just get on with it.

Marcel did actually have some witch supplies floating about after years of hooking up with/being friends with witches, so Kol had pilfered them to start making a magic circle out of herbs.

Finally, Rebekah broke the silence.

"Sorry."

"What for?"

"All the break-up jokes?" Her footsteps stopped, "Feels a little cruel considering you've never cared about anyone before."

"Hm."

"And for getting you daggered...and for running around with Elena after she flipped her switch despite the fact she'd murdered you..."

"Don't forget the part where you actually had the White Oak Stake," He had been watching, "So nothing to fear, in the clear to murder her."

She was biting the nail again.

"Or how, when we thought Klaus had been killed," He faked a smile, "You did murder her!"

She looked down.

Kol just exhaled loudly, "Anyway – "

"I am sorry."

"I know, Bekah," He looked up at her from where he was kneeling by the table, "...It's..."

The longer he looked at her, even when they were both wearing different faces, the less truthful his words sounded.

"You know what, it's not okay," He declared, "I have every right to be mad at you – "

"I'm trying to apologise – "

"Yeah, and I don't have to accept it."

She knew that was true.

"I'll get over it in a few decades," He waved a hand, "You know I will."

She shifted her weight.

Kol couldn't help but stare at the action, clocking the raised tension in her body, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Rebekah – "

"I might not be around for that forgiveness."

He paused.

"I might stay mortal."

He moved from knees to sitting, "Oh."

"I don't like being in another person's body without their consent," Her eyes were darting around, "But MJ could probably find me a dead one to reanimate, or, well...who knows if she might recreate a cure one day."

Kol knew MJ had the Grimoire's to do it.

"I know you don't have to accept my apology – but you almost died, again, and it was terrifying, and if I feel like this."

Shaken and a bit sick at the prospect that it could've actually happened.

"I can only imagine what you were going through – and I'm sorry."

He blinked.

Her face really did look heartbroken.

He dropped his head a little, "Thank you."

Marcel walked back into the apartment before either could make a follow-up comment, Kol's request in his hands.

"Nothing says manly like buying a matching tea set."

"You'd be surprised what knowing how to make a good cuppa can get you," Kol happily took it from him, "It's a guaranteed - "

Rebekah flicked the spare herbs at him, "I don't want to know."

He just grinned while unpacking the pots.

"What's this all do?" Marcel motioned to the three circles of sigils Kol had made on the table.

"We place our hands in the outer two, make the tea in the middle, drink it, then slip into a dreamscape where we'll be able to explore our potential problem's life story," Kol summed up, "See what she did and how we can get Rebekah pardoned for it."

"That simple?"

"Well," Kol pulled a face, "The magic's not simple, and I'll need a few minutes to mix the right leaves together, but it should be fine?"

"Should?" Rebekah put her hands on the table, "Kol – "

"It all depends on how strong the original owners mind is," He waved a hand, "I might not be able to overpower it to go snooping."

Marcel perched on the sofa arm to watch them, "And then what?"

"We try something else," He didn't see the problem with that, "Or hope Elijah's had better luck."

His hands start to move, opening the bags he'd asked Marcel to get alongside the tea-set, signalling the end of the conversation. He had a piece of paper next to him where he'd written down the spell, and the amount of each ingredient, while Rebekah had started to roughly sketch the circles he'd created on her pad, only to awkwardly catch Marcel's eyes.

"If we need to wait for him to make you your voodoo tea – "

"Not voodoo."

" - How 'bout that explanation?"

"Fine," Rebekah sat next to him on the couch, "Yes, I asked my brothers not to tell you I was back."

Kol rolled his eyes as he worked.

"I didn't want to see you after all this time when I wasn't myself," She gestured to the body, "Not like this."

He didn't seem to buy that.

"And..." She swallowed, "...Perhaps I feared that I might be desperate to kiss you..."

Kol closed his eyes to stifle his groan.

"Which I clearly can't do whilst occupying someone else's lips."

Marcel smiled a little, "Did you?"

"Did I what?"

His smile turned to a smirk, "Want to kiss me?"

"No!"

"Are you sure about that?"

"One hundred bloody per cent."

"You two are nauseating," Kol decided, "I'm trying to focus here."

"We're nauseating?" Rebekah challenged, "Have you seen the dumb look you get when MJ so much as acknowledges your existence?"

"Ha-ha."

"Hello, darling," She mimicked, lowering her voice to sound far closer to Kol's original, "You're not wearing the Christmas present I got you!"

He chucked a tea bag at her head.

"Awe Kol," She lent forward to grab his cheek, "Finally understanding love."

"Had to figure it out from somewhere considering the complete and utter lack of it I get in this family."

His tone was joking, but Rebekah stood down, returning to the floor, the opposite side of the table, putting on a smile. Marcel was also slightly uncomfortable, not really expecting the calm outburst.

"Bex – "

"I wanted you to teach me," She reminded him, gesturing to the mess, "How can I help?"

He fought off a smile while passing her a mortar and pestle, "Grind that up for me."

"What is it?" She sniffed the white-purple petals, "Wait - why is that familiar?"

She smelt it again, Kol watching in amusement.

"That's...what – I – Kol," She put it on the table, "What is it?"

"You know what it is."

"Just because I can recall things I saw our mother do doesn't mean I know any of them."

"I disagree," He snapped both his fingers, and two candles in the centre circle lit, "You're going to tell me what that flower is."

"But I don't know – "

"You do – "

"This is so unnecessary – "

"If you want to be a witch – "

"I need to be taught – "

"You need to be able to figure things out!" He stressed, "Look at the petal, think about the smell, and then tell me what it is."

Rebekah creased her brows, looking between his irritated expression and the flower. She also watched how his expression softened at the sight of her trying.

Kol may have always had a short fuse, but he'd also always had a soft spot for teaching them magic and her. She had to have some faith that he actually knew what he was doing when it came to helping her. Rebekah took a long breath in while staring at the petals.

The tips were quite spiky, and the majority of it was white, hints of lilac to give it a greyer feel, and to lead into the deep purple colour at the bottom, where all of them would've been connected together at the bud.

Then the smell.

"We're putting this into tea to see my body's past," She thought aloud, "See...like...hallucinate?"

Kol's eyebrows jumped.

She really stared at the petals again, "You've got to be kidding me, Kol – I'm not drinking Gypsum weed!"

"There you go," He moved the teapot in between the two candles and closed his eyes, about to start heating the water, "Figured it out."

"Kol!"

Marcel shook his head, "What's wrong with gypsum weed?"

"It's a poison."

"What?"

"It is," Kol acknowledged, opening his eyes again, "But it's also a hallucinogen."

Rebekah pushed it away.

"Bex," He knocked what he'd been grinding up towards her, "Recognise this too?"

She paused, then sighed, "The antidote..."

Sitave beans and mezule from the pouch he'd been using, different shades of red staring up at her in tiny beaded patterns.

"Not just the antidote," He tipped it into the bowl she needed to mash-up, "It would be the antidote if I left it in its pure form, but I've crushed it up, and we're going to be mixing it with water."

Rebekah picked up the grinder to press it down slightly.

"Think you can guess why?"

"As a liquid, it's diluted?"

With each clause, Rebekah's mixing action became firmer, especially when he nodded in confirmation.

"Meaning it'll stop the poison from being deadly."

"And?"

"We'll be able to use the hallucinogenic properties to get our answers while removing the risk that comes with the plant."

"Exactly," He nodded smugly, "And you're starting to think like a witch."

"Why can't you just do a spell to go in my head?" She kept grinding, "I've seen MJ do that kind of magic."

"And, in case you haven't released yet," Kol went back to heating the water, "MJ isn't your everyday witch."

"...Vampires need time to learn how to go through minds."

"And witches do too," He nodded, "It's not some cakewalk skill."

"Let me get this straight," Marcel finally came to sit on the floor too, "The pair of you are going to get magically high."

'Hallucinate.'

"Except, instead of tripping, you're going to see the host's memories."

"All three of us," Kol pointed to the number of cups on the table, "Actually."

"I'm not drinking your poison tea."

"This is your house," He explained, "That makes you the anchor of the spell."

"I'm not drinking anything you give me when you've tried to kill me."

"I'm also the only reason your little werewolf bite didn't kill you," Kol reminded him, "Drank something from me then."

Rebekah froze, "You got bit?"

Marcel clicked his teeth.

"When?"

"While you were in the witch asylum," He shrugged his shoulders, "It's all good."

Rebekah looked between the pair of them.

"Klaus was a bit occupied, but I drank some of MJ's stash."

"Only because I showed you where it was," Kol repeated.

After a moment, Marcel sighed in acceptance, "That is true."

~***~

Elijah did listen to Marcel's comments, but he didn't phone MJ. Instead, he took the information and adapted. Josephine had liked MJ's mother because of her attitude and her skill with music. He had a vampire who had both an attitude and a gift with a violin.

He'd recruited Gia to help him, having her get in a posh and tight purple dress, picking up the sheet music she'd play on the way to the La Rue Mansion.

They were greeted by a butler, led into an open study, large windows letting light flow into the room.

Josephine was sitting on a white throne-like chair, ice-blue eyes poised and staring at them like she was ready for an attack, dark hair pinned back, clearly a lot older than them (biologically anyway). Her unfriendly face already had Gia shifting, irritated, but Elijah just put on a smile, taking a different seat and motioning for Gia to begin.

She pulled the violin out of its case, placed it under her chin, sent Elijah a 'for real' look, then sighed and started to play.

The Sonata was well performed, Gia nervously bowing after the final note.

Josephine looked her up and down, unimpressed, turning to face Elijah.

"You are as calculating as I've heard, Mr Mikaelson," Her face was readable and unhappy, "Having your companion play the very piece I once performed, to great acclaim."

Elijah had done some background research on top of Marcel's information.

Research that had been incredibly easy given how MJ had left her laptop behind, any recorded performances by Ana Ruiz downloaded for her to watch whenever she was missing her mum.

He knew the password from his time in Mystic Falls, trying to reach her while daggered, and he wanted to see which shows Josephine had presented. Clips of her talking about her favoured pieces, and which ones she'd performed during her youth.

He kept his calm, "Is it not also a piece that you enjoy?"

"It's best not to insult those more powerful than you," Josephine held her head high, "Which is the only reason I allowed you into my home. Now, if you will excuse me, I have many things to do."

He smiled, "My goodness, I had expected a more cordial welcome here."

"And why would I be cordial to you?"

He opened his mouth, but no response came out.

"Since your family returned to this city, our Elders have been murdered – promising young witches inhabited against their will."

"I can put an end to all of it."

"With all due respect, I can believe that," Her sarcasm was evident, "As much as I believe I will play my violin again someday."

Her fingers were swollen, joints clearly stiff, to the point that it was almost like then been disfigured.

Elijah bit his cheek, acting like he didn't know how to proceed. Like he felt terrible for bringing Gia along when the violin was clearly a skill Josephine no longer possessed.

Elijah had always been a surprisingly good actor when he wanted to be, hyper-aware of the shocked expression on Gia's face and definitely playing into his role as a scorned vampire.

"Because, Mr Mikaelson," Jo continued talking, "Beneath your formal attire, and behind the lovely Beethoven – "

She nodded towards Gia.

"You are all the same," Her words were meant to cut, "Liars. Monsters wearing the skins of humans."

Her phrasing was not appreciated given Esther's goal to purge them of their vampirism.

"Good day to you both."

Elijah shifted, "Ms La Rue, we needn't be unpleasant."

"I hold no animosity, nor do I want to do you any favours," She declared, "I simply want you to leave my home."

They didn't move.

"It's a simple request."

Still nothing.

She sighed, "Return the elder your family repeatedly hijacks and maybe I'll even consider amusing this conversation for a minute longer – that is – if she's even still alive."

"She is," Elijah's tense tone surprised everyone in the room.

Jo raised an eyebrow.

"Assuming you are referring to Miss Mira Ruiz?" He picked the last name carefully, preferring/used to saying Miss Jung.

"I was."

"She is very much alive."

"Meaning your family is continuing to hold her hostage – wonderful."

He rose to his feet, "She is not our hostage."

"Vampires never treat witches as anything more than tools."

"Screw her, Elijah," Gia decided, "I don't see a friggin' crown on her head."

Josephine reacted calmly to the outburst, "I beg your pardon?"

"You're not the Queen of the witches. You don't speak for all of them," She gestured to the violin, done with the visit, "You know, I can't believe I dressed up and learned how to play Beethoven. I hate Beethoven!"

"And what do you like?" Josephine mused, "If not for Beethoven, what?"

Gia cleared her throat, torn between nerves and attitude, placing the instrument back under her chin and starting a jazz piece she'd learnt for a music night, moving around, arms far looser than before, body rolling with the music.

Elijah began to smile as he watched, an expression that grew bigger as Josephine sat up.

The piece ended, and they'd finally gotten the witch to do something other than frown.

"Eddie South," She nodded in approval, "That makes you a true jazz girl."

Gia's eyes grew bigger, "You know Eddie South?"

"One time, I nearly eloped with a jazz musician," She admitted, a lightness filling the air until her eyes landed back on her hands, "...My mother learned of my plans, and..."

After a moment of remembrance, she forced herself to keep talking.

"Let's just say, she wasn't pleased."

Gia's more challenging persona dipped, sympathy spreading across her features.

"Your candour is refreshing. I find most vampires more calculating," She gave Elijah an apologetic look, "No offence."

"None taken," His stance was less firm, "I also, on occasion, admire her candour."

Gia smirked, "He has great taste."

Josephine laughed.

"He's also a man you can trust," She added firmly, "And I say that as someone who doesn't trust easily."

The two vampires were looking at each other softly.

"Or, at all, really."

Josephine settled back into her seat, "And you say Mira Ruiz is still alive?"

"She is," He assured her.

"Then, I suppose I should hear you out, Mr Mikaelson."

Elijah took a moment to accept that his plan had actually worked, looking at Gia gratefully, before explaining that he was visiting about the Fauline Cottage. The butler was quickly dismissed to grab a collection of files, and while they waited, Elijah took the moment to ask a few questions.

"If you care so much about Mira's status, why didn't you seek her out last year?"

Jo lifted her nose and rested back, "I did."

He narrowed his eyes.

"Not explicitly," She clarified, "The child was far too tied into the vampire world, and The French Quarter Coven – who were no longer my problem or business, but..."

"But, she was your business."

"I kept my eye on her," Jo put it simply, "And when I could, I did help her."

Gia pulled a face, "Who are we talking about?"

"One of my family's inner circle," He summed up, "I'm sure you'll meet her soon enough."

He went back to Josephine.

"How exactly were you helping her?"

"You think she would've become a French Quarter Elder in a single morning without someone on her side behind the scenes?"

Elijah had been too busy to question the quick transition at the time.

"There are meant to be nine central covens in New Orleans," Josephine regained her more statue-like composure, "By going through with The Harvest, against my wishes, The French Quarter Coven lost their right to practise magic among us."

A rule she'd enforced before Ana's death.

"Mira sent a message to the elders of the remaining eight before consecrating a spirit to become one herself – of course, I knew she was around before then too."

Elijah scanned her face.

"The moment I learnt that the new witch in town, on the arm of Klaus Mikaelson, was Ana's daughter, I had people checking in."

The teacup in her hand was steady.

"One of my Garden District girls hit it off with her at a music night."

The person she'd been talking with before Marcel had finally bought her a drink.

"Another attended the same weekly concert as Mira and her vampire friends for me."

MJ and Diego had been far more observed during Wednesday At the Square than they'd realised.

"The Harvest Girl, Abigail, has given me a wonderful amount of praise."

After Gen's death.

"Then there's Samu Carlin."

Elijah tensed, "He works for you?"

"Not in the slightest," Josephine smiled, "His step-father comes from a witch bloodline."

Another reminder that the Mikaelson's knew nothing about Sam or his family.

"Two half-siblings who will grow up to potentially join our covens."

To be fair, Sam and MJ had gone out of their way to keep his siblings a secret from everyone, but it wasn't like they'd made that job difficult by asking questions.

"He doesn't practise, but he's more than willing to send me updates on her well-being, based on what Sam tells them about his friends, in exchange for some level of protection from us," Her eyes had a gleam to them, "Which his family requires given his recent forced association with yours."

"Hm."

"Hm indeed," Josephine looked to the ceiling, smug, "I protect my kind, Mr Mikaelson. Especially when the child of a favoured one seems to be in close company with the man who killed her mother."

The butler was back, handing Elijah a pile of sheets.

"Does she still play?" She asked carefully, "I remember attending one of the park events Ana organised and watching her brother and her having a wail of a time on the keyboard while everyone was packing up – Ryos was quite the talent too."

"She does," Elijah brushed his hand over the paper, "She hasn't for a few months due to...circumstantial reasons, but she's a lively fiddle player."

He would know, considering, alongside learning her passwords, he'd spent many hours daggered watching her practise until he'd lost sight of her the morning of Mikael's takedown.

"Though, she favours the Romantic Era on the piano."

Jo smiled, "And where is she?"

"Out of town."

"And when will she return?"

"That's none of your concern."

The moment the tension began to rise again.

He skimmed through the pages he'd been handed, trying to find the right set of information despite not having a name to base his search on.

"One of the witches that escaped the Fauline Cottage is of particular importance to my family," He swiftly moved the topic away from MJ, "My request to you – tell your people to leave her to me."

"You have no idea how dangerous these witches can be."

"She will cause you no further trouble; I can assure you that," He knew Rebekah wasn't a magical threat, "In return, I shall find all of the remaining witches who escaped and deliver them safely back to you."

He finally found the page with a picture of Rebekah's new face.

Reading through the psychiatric evaluation didn't fill him with much confidence.

There were numerous records of violent tendencies, criminal behaviour, in the magical sense and genuine mundane arrests. Her official diagnosis was paranoid schizophrenia.

He handed the document over.

"Consider this the first step in a new and mutually beneficial alliance."

Josephine looked over the file, face dropping, "Eva Sinclair. Powerful and sadistic."

Not a fun combination of words.

"If I am to relinquish someone like her into your custody, I will require someone equally powerful in return."

Elijah nodded for her to keep talking.

"The Tremé Coven wants Vincent Griffith returned."

Finn's host body.

"How you expel your brother from his body is your concern."

"Consider it done."

"And Mira Jung is to be handed over to me."

He narrowed his eyes, "What for?"

"The re-officialization of the French Quarter Coven," Jo spoke like it was obvious, "She's been an elder for over a year now. It's time she starts acting like it."

He didn't respond.

"She needs to learn her duties to the witches of this city, and she needs to start performing them."

"I will get you Vincent Griffith."

"And Mira."

"No."

"Then we don't have a deal."

"Mira is not someone whose life I'm going to barter," He kept his voice low, "You are giving us one person. We will give you one in return."

"She cannot run from her position forever."

"And she won't," Elijah returned to his feet, taking the win, "But you need to understand that her current disposition means she is momentarily out of commission."

One way to phrase that she'd been through hell that year.

"And once she returns to us, she will only be meeting with you when she is good and ready to."

That wasn't something he was going to let Jo debate.

"And considering your covens wanted to kill a siphoner when she was a child, you should understand where my distrust of your intentions come from."

Jo pushed to her feet too, "And have you not considered that an apology is a part of why I wish to meet her?"

He considered that.

"I approved of her eldership for a reason," Jo's voice was sharp, "She and the Harvest girls are the last connection The French Quarter Coven have to their ancestors. None of the witches will risk touching her again out of fear of losing that link. Now, bring her to me."

"I will bring you Vincent Griffith."

They were locked in a stare-off until, eventually, Jo returned to her seat – unhappy but accepting the deal.