Being entirely honest, for a long time I considered having the previous chapter be the last one. I had the first part of this just sitting on my phone for months and really just nothing to follow it with. I still want to have the previous chapter be the last one so I'll leave this up for about 2 weeks. If you want more then I'll either upload this chapter and the next in a separate mini sequel or I'll continue it here. The first option is far more likely but we'll see. For the record, this is entirely dependent on whether or not y'all want me to continue. Because if not, I'm taking this down in two weeks and marking this fic complete. Thank you to all those who stuck around all this time, put up with my ridiculousness and long periods between updates. Thank you to all the reviewers who liked this fic, to all those who called me out on bs, to those who went through the trouble of actually requesting something. This has been my favourite fanfiction to write so far and its been all of you who have made it memorable.
He was shrouded in darkness, trapped in that small room once again. Pure agony ran through his veins, immobilizing the hybrid, all of it emanating from that one place in his chest where the dagger lay buried. He could feel the blade inside him, eating away at him, at his mind, his sanity. Where he could once feel the bond tying him to his siblings, to his daughter, there was nothing at all. Simply a dark emptiness, a pit of nothingness where that bond should have been, cold replacing that sole point of warmth that he had been able to cling on to all this time and he knew they were gone, gone, gone. And a voice in his head screamed once that knowledge sunk in, the pain of the blade paling in comparison to that loss, that overwhelming knowledge that he had failed in his one task to keep them from harm. That he had let them down once more. And that voice in his head kept screaming, a silent, desperate plea for help that no one but himself would ever hear, screaming into that void that used to tie him to his family and he couldn't bear the bleak hollowness that remained, all that was left to him because he had failed, failed, failed them. Failed them like he had her and-
Klaus woke up gasping for breath he no longer needed, hadn't for a millennia, a thin sheet of sweat covering his forehead. He gently poked and prodded at the bond connecting him to his daughter, letting out a small sigh of relief once he confirmed that it was still intact, still thrumming with life. It took barely a minute to speed into the kitchen downstairs and empty a blood-bag into a mug, hands trembling ever so slightly as he lifted the ceramic mug to his lips.
He drained the blood in a matter of moments, yet couldn't bring himself to do much more then lean against the counter, trying to shake away the last vestiges of his nightmare. He didn't know how long he stood there, couldn't have guessed if he tried, whether it was five minutes or thirty that he spent untangling his thoughts, separating memory from the deeply rooted fears inside him and locking both away from the soft light of dawn. But by the time he looked up, taking everything in, the sun was rising, kitchen considerably lighter than it had been before, bright morning light streaming through the window. He emptied another blood-bag into his mug and sipped at it slowly this time, gently extricating his thoughts from the memories his dreams were so set on tormenting him with. He expected they would never truly stop haunting him and had long ago accepted that after all that had been done in his name, in his family's name, he probably deserved it.
This particular nightmare, while not exactly new, wasn't one he had had to suffer for a while now. Today would not be a good day, he could tell already. Dealing with his issues, however, would have to wait - Hope would wake up soon and it was his turn to take her to school. He just didn't know why he couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to go terribly wrong.
Klaus was going to burn that damn school to the ground. Preferably with Hope's teacher still inside, drained of blood to the point that she would still be conscious as she burned yet unable to do anything about it. If Hayley's tense form beside him was any indication, she would most likely help him. Hell, she would most likely be the one to drain the damn teacher herself. It was almost enough to make him smile. Almost. While the shewolf was comparitively less predisposed to murder than he was, he knew the mother of his child and, more importantly, what she was capable of when her family was in danger. That knowledge was all that kept him from razing the entire building in that moment as the woman who ran the place dared look him in the face and offer up useless platitudes as if that would make any of this alright or even slightly better.
He slammed his hand down on the principal's desk in frustration as she began yet another tangent of useless words, rage written into every movement. Later, indents would be found in the table where his hands had pressed down, the force of the blow enough to leave permanent and obvious damage. Haley was just as furious, but still remaining somewhat better able to maintain her composure. Later Klaus would admit to himself that he respected her all the more for it. One of them needed to keep a level head and at the moment it certainly wasn't going to be him. Her eyes, however, promised swift retribution should anything happen to her daughter because of the school's incompetency and had the situation been any different, Klaus would have smirked openly at the speed with which the principal abandoned her platitudes and cowered at her desk.
The bespectacled woman drew herself up after a moment, having gathered what remained of her courage and dignity and both parents' eyes narrowed as she attempted to absolve the school of blame. Listening in growing disbelief to the shaky words, the pathetic excuses that pulled themselves out from her throat, it was Hayley who could barely contain her rage this time and, standing up, proceeded to remind her why exactly one should never try and bullshit a Michaelson, much less when they were responsible for their youngest being missing.
Freya did not consider an hour spent performing tracking spells over maps an hour wasted. In fact, she would have spent another hour or two on it without a second thought, performing the spells over and over again on different maps until she had exhausted herself. Then she would have attempted every other spell that could even remotely be considered useful and still not think even a second to have been wasted. Kol was right next to her, searching for and suggesting spells she could perform, helping out where he could.
But after yet another spell yielding no results, her brother slammed a fist down on the table, unrepentantly glaring at her when it resulted in a broken jar, glass fragments scattered around the floor, frustration clear in the tense lines of his body. "Why is nothing working? We took all the precautions we could think of, layered Hope in what must be half a dozen spells at the very least-"
"About twice that and two-thirds of those were defensive spells. We'll find her, Kol." Freya cut in, picking up yet another potion off the table as she began preparing another spell, ignoring the mess on the floor for the time being. There would be time to clean it later, after she found something useful. "And I'll personally gut the bastard that took her."
"If you can beat Nik to it," the vampire said with a scoff. A humorless chuckle escaped her lips at that, at the thought of what her younger brother would do to whoever it was that had taken his little princess. "Our niece is out there somewhere," Kol began, running a hand through his hair, long fingers tugging slightly at the brown locks as he bent over the table to once again flip through one of the many books lying on it, searching for another spell, for something, anything, that would get them closer to finding Hope. "And we're in here, ultimately useless while she's in danger. What's the bloody point-"
Freya looked up from the table at Kol as he cut himself off in time to see his frown deepen as he reached into his pocket, the ball of fire Hope had given to him so long ago nestled in the palm of his hand. He looked at it in confusion for all of fifteen seconds before dropping it with a pained hiss. It hit the wooden table with a loud thud, rolling towards the edge and falling off before suspending itself in the air before them. The vampire reached out to grab it, confused, fingers reaching to within an inch of the orb before pulling back, Freya catching a glimpse of singed fingertips before he dropped his hand. "What the actual hell."
Vincent sighed in annoyance as he looked at his phone screen when it began to ring. What, did the world think he was simply sitting around to solve their problems? He did, surprising as it may be, have responsibilities of his own! Those responsibilities, however, were put on the back burner as Kol's voice filtered through the phone's speakers, his blood growing cold. Hope is missing. If anything happened to that little girl he knew that nothing would be able to hold back the all consuming Mikaelson rage and it would be this city that would have to pay the price. He knew it as surely he knew his magic.
His heart clean stopped at Kol's next question. Because Davina wasn't in the church and she hadn't come in all day, nor had she been in contact with her boyfriend. As he cleared the table and began setting out maps to begin tracking spells, a single thought ran through his mind on repeat, his city most likely wouldn't survive the week.
Hope whimpered as the man struck Davina for what seemed to be the hundredth time, the older witch unable to prevent the pained groaned that escaped her. He had bound their magic and had them kept on opposite ends of the room, facing each other. Hope could see every bruise and cut
that now marred Davina's beautiful face, the discoloring of her skin made even more prominent by the harsh lighting of the room. The youngest Mikaelson was curled up against the wall as much as her bindings allowed her. The rope chafed against her skin, rubbing her wrists and ankles raw but the young girl ignored most of the pain she felt, her entire attention focused on the man about fifteen feet away.
"Stop it! You said you wouldn't hurt her if I cooperated! You said she'd be fine if I came and I was good! I didn't yell or scream or anything! Please! Stop!" He paused for a moment and her heart leapt, hoping, praying, only for him to yell at her to shut up. Still, she gathered her courage and began once again, until he began walking toward her and Davina yelled till she got his attention again.
"I can take it Hope." The older witch said in between heaving breaths, glaring defiantly at the man before her, neither had quite figured out what he was yet, but at the moment all Davina could care about was keeping him away from Hope. At the protests that began to burst from the younger's lips, the older witch shook her head, silencing her for the time being. "Hope, don't worry about me. I can take it." That last part was enunciated carefully, Davina's eyes meeting Hope's as the younger nodded and the hard knot that had formed in the older witch's chest eased just a little bit. She had had much worse and this was a hell of a lot better than the alternative. Davina could see her niece scared and still keep a somewhat clear head, keeping the voice in the back of her head screaming at her to protect the kid a little calm. She didn't know what she'd do if she actually had to witness the young girl being hurt.
The young girl had no idea how long it was until he appeared to get bored and left. "Auntie 'Vina? Are you ok? He hurt you really badly! The minute we get out I'll hurt him right back! Did you hear that, you, you jerk!" That last part was shouted at the walls surrounding them and as proud as Davina was of her niece, she needed to stop this before it got said niece in even more trouble than they already were in.
"Hey, enough of that, we don't want him to come back, right?" Worry and fear was plainly displayed in Hope's blue eyes, a stark contrast to the mischief Davina was used to seeing there. "Hey, don't worry about me, your Auntie's had way worse, this was barely anything!" Davina proclaimed, attempting to insert enough false bravado into the sentence to put her (kind of) niece at ease. She ignored the pain in the ribs and the fact that it kind of hurt to speak. She kept her breathing as even as possible, trying to lift her lips into a smile for the young witch's benefit, wincing as it pulled at her split lip. Her eye was definitely swelling up and she desperately hoped the bastard's punches only resulted in a bruised eye socket and not a broken one. She had had enough broken bones for a lifetime. Hope was far too quiet though and she looked over at her, despairing as the young girl's lower lip trembled, eyes lined with tears. "Hey, hey, it's gonna be ok, I promise," she whispered, dragging herself as close to the tribrid as her bindings would allow. "I won't let anything happen to you-" Davina cut herself off as Hope curled further into herself, the sound of soft sobs and hitched breaths coming from where she was kept.
"No, but he'll hurt you even more!" The young child exclaimed and Davina's heart sank. She hadn't wanted Hope to pick up on that.
"They'll find us," she said instead, voice low. "Your mom and dad, Kol, Elijah, Freya and Vincent will find us and we'll hurt him right back. Believe in that if nothing else," and she could have sworn Hope breathed a little easier.
It was a while before she heard Hope's voice again, a soft thank you. Unknown to the both of them and to the surprise and confusion of two others, in another part of the city, a small fireball began to burn.