Episode Four: Stay Awake with Me

The sun long set, Hayley paces the length of their living room, phone in hand. She hasn't spoken to Hope since she called from New Orleans, hasn't wanted to distract her from her drive home. Her mind is bouncing from topic to topic—River, Hope, Malraux venom, Klaus—and she can't keep still. Relief comes when the bright flash of headlights crosses the far wall, signaling the arrival of a car. Hayley scrambles out the front door, descending upon the car in a flurry. Hope doesn't even have the chance to turn the car off before the door is ripped open and she's being yanked out, wrapped tightly in her mother's arms.

"Thank god you're safe," Hayley breathes into her hair. Hope tries to mumble something, but it's unintelligible against her mother's shirt. Hayley holds her daughter at arm's length. "If you ever do anything like that again I will kill you myself, do you understand?"

Sheepish, Hope nods. "I'm sorry for just taking off—"

Hayley's eyes blow wide. "You are covered in blood!" She unceremoniously tips Hope's head to the side to inspect the wound on her neck. "You were bitten—"

"Mom, please—"

"I am going to kill Vincent for dragging you into this—"

"Mom!" Hayley finally falls silent. Hope grips her hands. "I am completely fine. Please do not worry about me." She takes a deep breath. "I've got him."

Hayley peers over her shoulder into the backseat. "You've—wow."

"Yeah."

Slowly, Hayley walks to the back door of the car and opens it. She looks down at the father of her child, face unreadable. "Welcome home, Klaus."

Marcel enters his penthouse, clothes still soaked in blood. He tosses his torn jacket onto the nearest chair with a heavy sigh and makes his way into his bedroom, where he's surprised to find someone waiting for him. "Didn't expect you to be here."

Theo's outstretched and comfy on Marcel's bed, wearing only one of his dress shirts. "Thought I'd come and see how things went with the Mikaelson girl. The witches have been in a tizzy all day."

"Well…" Marcel grips the back of his shirt and tugs it over his head. "No one told you to tell them."

Theo's eyes trace the shape of Marcel's body. "The witches share information. It's how we've managed to stay alive all these years." She gets off the bed, slinks up to Marcel. She runs her fingertips over his arm. "Whose blood is this?"

"Klaus's sirelings decided to show up and pick a fight. They lost."

Keeping her face unreadable, Theo asks, "What did they pick a fight about?"

Continuing to undress, Marcel answers, "Someone told them that Hope was here to spring Klaus free, and they tried to stop us."

"Us?"

Down to just his underwear, Marcel collapses onto the bed. "I ended up helping her. I just…after all these years of me talking a big game about protecting kids, I kept one kid from having her father."

"Yeah, well…" Theo sits beside him. "Her father is a psychopath."

"And I'm not arguing that point. Still…I've thought about her a lot over the past fifteen years. What she's like. How it must feel not to have him. I'd be lying if said I didn't have regrets."

Theo chooses her next words wisely. "Yeah, well…I get you wanting to…fix what you broke, so to speak. But I'd be careful how chummy I got with Hope Mikaelson if I were you."

Marcel rolls his head to the side to look at her. "What do you mean?"

"The vision I had of her? Last night? It wasn't just of her arrival in New Orleans."

Marcel sits up, puts a hand on Theo's knee. "What did you see?"

Theo bites her lip. "She's a threat, Marcel. To the balance of this city. If she stays here she will fracture the already fragile peace that you have built."

"Care to be a little more specific?"

"Think about it, Marcel. She's a New Orleans witch descended from a New Orleans wolf and one of the vampires who founded New Orleans. She is the ultimate weapon for the Mikaelsons to come in here and dismantle everything!"

Marcel's quiet for a long while, mulling things over. "Well…maybe you're right. Doesn't matter. I sent her back to where she came from earlier today. She shouldn't ever come back here."

"And exactly how long do you think you're going to be able to keep Klaus Mikaelson away from this city?"

"…If he knows what's good for him? Forever."

Hayley lays Klaus onto the couch as gently as she can. Once he's sorted, still staring unblinkingly at the ceiling, Hayley pauses, looks down at him. "Fifteen years is a hell of a long time."

Hope's standing just off to the side. Her eyes won't leave her father's body. "What if…what if he's not who I thought he was?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. I guess…for my entire life, I've had this image of him in my head. What he'd look like, how he'd sound…the kind of person he was. I didn't realize how…attached I'd gotten to that image until the moment arrived when I was faced with the reality."

"Hope…" Hayley wraps an arm around her daughter. "Look, he's never going to be able to live up to the dad you've built in your head."

"No, I know that."

"I know you do. But…just, just try to keep an open mind, okay? There's a lot I've kept from you about your father, and for good reason, but if you're going to know him, you're going to have to get to know the bad parts, too. So I want you be prepared for things to change."

Hope takes a deep breath and nods. "I'm ready."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Hayley lets go of Hope and leans over Klaus. After a moment, she pulls a hand back and plunges it into Klaus's chest. Hope winces violently at the sound of cracking bone and squishing tissue, but it only lasts a few seconds before Hayley's ripping free of the gaping hole, her hand glowing shiny red and gripping a long, curved blade.

The house trembles menacingly, with lights flickering and china rattling in the cabinets. Rebekah has to grip the kitchen counter to keep herself on her feet. Abandoning the wine glass half-full of fake blood, she calls out, "What the bloody hell is going on?"

As soon as the disturbance started, it stops, leaving an eerie quiet in its wake. Freya rushes into the kitchen, frazzled. "Are you hurt, sister?"

"I'm fine, as long as this damn house doesn't collapse on top of us!"

Before Freya can respond, Elijah and Kol enter. Kol is fuming. "What is this, Freya? Are you trying to kill us?"

"This isn't my doing, Kol."

"Like hell it—"

"Kol." Elijah's voice is quiet but firm. He walks over to his elder sister. "Please explain, Freya."

Her face is impossible to read. "Something has happened. In the real world."

"Something like what?" Rebekah asks. "The only one of us who isn't in here is—"

No one says it. Each of them is all too aware that their lives are linked to Klaus's; if he dies, they all die. Kol says hotly, "So what does it mean? If the Chambre de Chasse is deteriorating—"

"We'd know if Niklaus was dead," Freya insists. "Well, more accurately, we wouldn't know it, because we'd all be dead too, so he's not."

"Then what is the cause of the tremors, sister?" Elijah asks.

With a little shake of her head, Freya replies, "I don't know. But if something happened to Klaus strong enough to shake this place…we are either about to get very, very lucky, or very, very not."

Hayley's sitting on the coffee table, bent forward so her forearms are resting on her knees. Papa Tunde's blade is still in her hand, most of the blood wiped off into the pile of paper towels teetering beside her. Hope can't sit; she's leaned against the wall, leg jigging with anxiety. "How long will it take him to wake up?"

"Could be minutes, could be hours. He's had this thing in him before, but never for this long. Plus, he'll be starving." Hayley twists her head to look at her daughter. "I want you to prepare yourself to see him be bloodthirsty. He hasn't had any in fifteen years, but he's strong. If you have to, subdue him with magic."

Hope nods, and they fall silent again. The clock on the wall is deafening. After a few minutes, Hayley asks, "Why didn't you tell me, Hope?"

Hope doesn't have to ask for clarification. "I didn't have time. I only found out right before I left for New Orleans."

With a heavy sigh, Hayley begins to think out loud. "I don't know what to do. She's just a kid. She's going through the most traumatic event in her life right now, and yet…" She runs a hand through her hair and laughs humorlessly. "And yet all I can think about is getting her venom."

Hope can't imagine what this must feel like for her mother. For her entire life, the family entombed in the attic, the coffins chauffeured from city to city, was more idea than reality. She wanted desperately to know them, to be the always and forever her mother told her stories of, but even now, minutes away from meeting her father and closer than ever to reuniting with her aunts and uncles, she can't help but think that for her, River is reality.

Her mother's reality is Elijah. She's never said it out loud, of course, never said, Klaus Mikaelson is your father, but it's his brother I'm in love with. She's never had to. Hope's always been observant, noticed from a young age the way her mother's eyes would soften when she spoke of Uncle Elijah, the way she skirted conversation about him in favor of talking about Rebekah or Freya. Fifteen years separated from the man she loves. Hope can't fathom the pain.

"What do I say to her?" Hope finally asks. "I don't…this isn't something I can fix, she's…she's killed someone. I don't know what to do."

"Be there for her. Listen to her. Hope, this is…this is the worst thing. The worst thing she could do, and she's seventeen. And to have the wolf curse on top of it…just be there for her."

Hope's leg stops its jigging. "And what about her venom?"

Before Hayley can answer, she and Hope are both startled by a loud, deep gasp as Klaus shoots upright, suddenly very much awake.

River's curled up on the couch, eyes staring unfocused at the television. She's wearing her comfiest pajamas and wrapped tightly in a blanket, even though it's sweltering. When her mother walks in, sets two mugs of tea on the coffee table, and clicks the TV off, River doesn't even react. Rachel sits on the couch, pulling her daughter's feet into her lap. "How you doin', baby girl?"

"Fantastic," River says, voice dry and raspy.

"I know, I know." Rachel leans forward and nudges the mug of tea to her daughter. "C'mon. Drink up. You'll feel better."

River begrudgingly drags herself into an upright position, keeping the blanket taut around her shoulders. "I don't think tea's gonna make me feel better, Momma."

"Probably not." Rachel waits for River to take a few sips. "Wanna talk about it?"

"About what? About how I killed a guy, or about how killing him turned me into a…" She can't say the word out loud.

"Your daddy and I went back and forth on this forever. Should we tell you, should we not. In the end, we thought…" She shrugs. "We were runnin' for our lives. No reason to have you grow up afraid of somethin' we thought would never touch you."

"I'm not mad at you for not telling me," River says softly. "I'm…I'm mad at myself. Or, mad at him. I don't know."

"Hell, I'm mad at him, too. Puttin' his hands on my little girl? He's lucky he didn't come across me, I'd've done a lot worse than push 'im into a wall."

"Can we not?" River asks, pleading. "I don't…I don't want to talk about him." She brings the tea to her nose and takes a deep sniff, letting the aroma work through her. "Tell me about home."

"Honey, we are home."

"I mean Texas. What was it like? And why did we leave?"

Rachel takes a deep breath. "Well…the Malraux pack was never really big. Always out in the deserts of Texas and New Mexico, sometimes up into Colorado. Kept to ourselves, mostly. Actually, not many of us had triggered our curses, so the pack was more of a community than an actual group of wolves. Still, they were all our family. They were just tickled pink when you were born."

River's surprised. "Really?"

"Oh sure! There had been a rash of baby boys born in the years before you came 'round, so when your daddy and I had a beautiful baby girl, everyone was so excited." She sighs. "You were right, earlier. It was home. I miss them every day."

Hesitantly, River asks, "What happened?"

"What happened is what always happens. Vampires."

River's eyes widen dramatically. "Vampires?"

Nodding, Rachel says, "There's a lot you don't know about…about the supernatural world. We kept it from you to protect you, to give you a life outside of the fear and chaos. But vampires are real, and they hate wolves." Rachel's eyes fall into her mug. "You were so young when they attacked. Descended upon our town like a plague sent from God. Tore us all to pieces. We only just got out in time." She looks back up at her daughter, who's looking back with fearful eyes. "You're the only Malraux wolf left in the world."

The reality of her family's legacy settles on River's shoulders heavily. Everything feels too much, a family of wolves, the existence of vampires, genocide—two days ago she was a recent high school graduate with a shitty job and a cute girlfriend. Since then her world's been torn open and she worries she may just fall through. "So…werewolves and—and vampires. Is that it? No zombies, no ghosts?"

"Well…" Rachel sets her now-empty mug back onto the coffee table. "No zombies, but there are witches who are pretty good at bringing people back from the dead when it's convenient for them. And ghosts, spirits, whatever you wanna call 'em—they're real. Magically linked between this life and the next."

"Witches. Wow. Okay."

Rachel's face sobers quickly. "Listen to me, baby girl. Don't worry about witches or wolves. They're not your enemies. The real enemy, the ones who want to hurt you, are the vampires. They're killers, demons, the worst monsters on this earth."

"Why do they hate us so much?"

"Some of it's fear. Our venom is one of the only things in the world that can kill a vampire, and there's no cure for it. But a lot of it is just sport. We're only dangerous to them when we're wolves, so every other night of the month, we're just game for them to hunt."

River's heart is pounding. "That's terrifying."

Rachel grabs her daughter's hand, rubs the pad of her thumb over her knuckles. "I don't wanna scare you, baby girl. I just want you to be aware. Be smart. Live your life. We'll get through this wolf thing together. Seems like Hope's momma's gonna be real helpful with that, thank the Lord. But you promise me, right now, that if you ever meet a vampire, you will run away, leave them behind—or, if you can, kill them. Promise me, baby girl."

"Okay, Momma," River says, nodding. "I promise."

Hope's pressed against the wall, staring at her gray-skinned father as he continues to gasp for air. Hayley abandons her place on the coffee table to grab at his shoulders. "Klaus! Klaus!" she shouts, trying to calm him down. "Klaus, it's me! You're okay!"

Hope sees the glint of something dangerous in her father's eyes right before he opens his mouth, fangs bared, and lunges for Hayley's throat. Without thinking, Hope extends a hand and gives him a short, rapid succession of aneurysms, dropping him to his knees. Hayley and Hope exchange a worried look, both of them missing Klaus's glare at the witch causing him pain. Before Hope can repeat her spell, Klaus appears before her, eyes red with rage, and right as he opens his mouth once more, Hayley bellows, "Klaus, that is your daughter!"

Everything freezes. Hope's heart is beating so fast she can hardly breathe. Slowly, so slowly, Klaus takes a step back, eyes wide and horrified as he takes in his daughter's terrified face. They stare at each other for a long moment, Hope's breath coming in shudders, before she blinks and Klaus has disappeared.

Hope stares into the open fridge, letting the cold wrap around her. She's supposed to be getting blood bags, sees the opaque white plastic shoebox labelled For Mom on the top shelf, but can't bring her body to move. Instead she stands under the interrogation light of the fridge, actively not thinking about what just happened in the living room.

Because of her lack of focus, she doesn't notice her mother in the doorway, leaning up against the jamb. "You okay?"

Hope flinches at the sound, quickly wipes at one of her eyes. "Yeah. Just, um." She forces a hand up to grab the shoebox and pull it down. "Just getting the blood."

Hayley looks over her shoulder, then back at Hope. "He's back. Just went outside for a minute to…get himself together. He needs blood, though."

"Yeah, I got that."

"Hey." Hayley walks over to daughter, rubs a hand up and down her arm. "If this is too much for you—"

"No." Hope closes the fridge door. "No, it's fine. Just…not the most encouraging start to a father-daughter relationship, you know?"

"Your father would never hurt you, Hope. What happened out there…fifteen years without blood, in a constant state of pain? I can't say I wouldn't go after the nearest living thing, too. Well. Sort-of living."

Hope nods. "It's fine." She reaches into a nearby cupboard and pulls down a glass. "Let's go."

Klaus is unsteady on the couch, staring at the swirling wood of the coffee table. His teeth ache with the need for blood. When there's movement at the entrance to the living room, his head snaps up. He stares in awe at the redheaded girl there, white box in hand, who makes her way over to him, leaving her mother in the doorway. He can smell the blood, can smell her blood, and roots himself to the couch. Hope sets the box onto the coffee table and pries open the lid. She picks up the blood bag on top, rips it open with her teeth, and pours the viscous liquid into the glass. Once it's full, she sets it on the table, and then wordlessly pushes it toward her father.

Klaus looks at the glass, then up at Hope. Her face is unreadable. Caving to the thirst, he falls forward and grabs the glass with both hands, downing it in two gigantic gulps. Immediately the gray leaves his face, returning him to his normal complexion, his veins disappearing from view. The pain of hunger remains—it will take a great deal more than one glass of B- to remedy fifteen years of starvation—but his shaking stops, his breath comes more calmly. He sets the glass back onto the table with a heavy clunk, and then stands. The tension in Hope's muscles is evident as he rounds the coffee table to stand before her. She's trembling ever so slightly.

Before he can stop himself, Klaus wraps his daughter up in his arms, pressing her against his chest. He can feel her breath come out in shaky gasps as her own arms move to hug him back. He can scarcely believe it; the last time he saw this girl, she was just barely toddling around, easily picked up and held. Yet here she is, a woman in her own right, falling to pieces in her father's arms for the first time in her life.

When Hayley asked him if he wanted to visit his siblings, Klaus didn't know what he was expecting. But as he stands in the cramped attic of this tiny home, surrounded by silver coffins, a sorrow settles over him like the darkness of night. He picks one and opens the lid. "My poor Rebekah…"

Hayley stands hunched beside the opening in the floor where the ladder will lead them back down. "I'm sorry that I haven't finished what Freya started. I've gotten almost everything we need—"

"Do not blame yourself, Hayley." Klaus's voice is quiet. He looks away from his little sister. "You were raising our daughter."

Hayley nods, and gives a little half-smile. "She really is amazing, Klaus. Smart and kind and talented—you should take a look at her art. Could give you a run for your money."

"I'd expect nothing less," Klaus says with a grin of his own. He opens Elijah's coffin. His older brother lays still and cold. "It can't have been easy for you either, I suppose."

"Well, being a single mom was never on the bucket list, but I like to think I didn't do too bad." She shuffles over to Elijah's coffin, touches his face briefly. "Yeah. It got lonely."

"Whatever else we must do to rescue my siblings from this…limbo, know that I will move the earth to do it."

"Well I have Freya's cure, and the spell to siphon the hex from the Rebekah. As for the ingredients for Elijah and Kol's cure, we're still missing the venom of one wolf pack."

"Which pack?" Klaus demands. "I will find them wherever they are."

Hayley hesitates for the briefest of moments. "Malraux. But all of my sources say the pack is extinct." The lie feels thick on her tongue, but she can't out River like this. "Believe me when I say I've been working on it."

Klaus lays a hand on her shoulder. "We will finish this task together. Don't forget, we make a pretty good team."

Hayley hums in humorous agreement, and then says, "Don't worry about Hope. Tonight…freaked her out a little, sure, but she's been dying to get to know you her entire life. Just…give her some space to figure it all out."

"Is that why she disappeared tonight?"

"No." Hayley looks back down at Elijah, a wistful look in her eye. "Tonight she has somewhere she needs to be."

Hope doesn't even knock, just walks through the front door with a tote bag slung over one shoulder. She makes her way through the dark house, the light from the TV in the master bedroom flickering through the hallway. She stops outside the last door on the left and just gently pushes it open. Curled up in a ball on the bed is River, staring blankly at the flickering candle on her nightstand. Not looking up, River says, "Mom, I just want to be left alone."

"Tough," Hope answers, stepping in and closing the door behind her.

River lifts her head off the bed. "Hope? What're you doing here?"

"I came to see you, dummy." Her bag slips off her shoulder and onto the carpet. Then Hope walks over and sits on the bed. "C'mere."

River lets herself be wrapped in Hope's arms. "I've had a really shitty couple of days."

"Yeah," Hope sighs. "Me too. I'm sorry I couldn't be here for you." She kisses River's forehead. "Wanna not talk about it?"

"Please." They curl up on the bed together, not talking, as the candle slowly burns out.

The fifth episode, "We Argue, We Don't Fight," is already available on the Tumblr blog peopleandrhythm at this time.