Disclaimer: not mine, borrowed and nurtured. A/N: Yes, I borrowed the idea from Captain Swan visiting how Snow x Charming met, as an excuse to write about Klayley and TVD gang, what of it.

YOUNGBLOOD

ii

be a rainbow

in someone else's cloud

Mystic Falls, 1942

Hope opened her eyes, hands in those of her uncle Kol's, on the steps of the Salvatore Boarding House, as though the spell had taken no effect. She felt a breeze on her pores and saw the Christmas lights surrounding her had disappeared. The school was quiet, no essence of witches, werewolves or vampires in the halls… in fact, there were no Christmas decorations at all.

"Did it work?" Hope whispered.

"Judging by the lack of Salvatores in the vicinity, I'm guessing yes."

They walked through the kitchen, finding dishes in the sink, someone had left in a hurry.

Kol pulled a newspaper with a photograph of soldiers towards him, and grimaced.

"Dorothy we're not in Kansas anymore," he quoted.

Hope glanced over his shoulder at the date, disappointed.

"My mother wasn't alive in 1942, Kol."

Kol sighed, flicking though the newspaper as if it would reveal something important by the end.

"Don't blame me, you were on the other side of that spell."

Hope knew Hayley's birthday was June 6th, 1991, so why would the spell send her here?

"Where were you in '42?" Hope asked, taking in the photographs of Stefan and Damon's childhood.

She knew from Josie and Lizzie that Damon had married Elena Gilbert, and Caroline, their mother had married Stefan Salvatore only to be widowed on the same day. It wasn't only the Mikaelsons who'd grieved tragic deaths in the family.

Kol turned to Hope with a shrug, "Daggered since 1914 and put in a coffin by your dear old dad."

Hope licked her bottom lip, finding the boarding house eerier than usual.

"Maybe that's a good thing? You won't run into yourself and change the time continuum."

Kol raised an eyebrow at her. "I forgot how much of a nerd you are."

"Shut up!" Hope punched Kol in the arm. "MG and I binged The Flash on Netflix last summer."

Kol ran his finger over the long dining table in what was the common room, the fire dwindling in the fireplace. Someone had definitely been there. Hope remembered meeting Stefan Salvatore once, he had come to her dad for help and somewhere to hide when Rayna, the vampire hunter chased him.

She had never seen her dad so scared, scared of losing his family, of losing her.

"I haven't been here in years, not since visiting Elena and Jeremy Gilbert, but that's another story," Kol admitted, giving her a wink.

Hope walked past what would have been Stefan's Memorial Library, finding the artefacts replaced by many books and journals, which covered each wall. She was reminded of Kol's pursuit of magic and wondered what it was he wanted from 1942. This was not like their usual pranks, there was something more here, something he hadn't explained.

"So why 1942? We can't intervene with the events of the past, or else we'll mess up our futures and anything we do could change our lives as we know it," Hope thought aloud.

Kol flipped the newspaper over and took Hope's shoulders in his hands.

"Magic has a power of its own, Hope. I'm in the dark, as much as you are."

Hope looked up the ceiling, realizing they truly were alone in the past, with no idea where to go next. She had no friends, no family bar Kol, and just her magic to keep her afloat. Why was 1942 important to her parents? What had happened for the spell to think this date was vital?

"Come on, we stick out like sore thumbs, let's see if the Salvatore's have any taste in fashion."

Kol opened Stefan's wardrobe, finding it mostly empty, "Looks like he was conscripted, after all."

Entering Damon's room, Kol went straight to the wardrobe, opened the doors, and found clothes.

He began tossing them onto the floor, trying on jackets and suits, which only led to her understanding he meant to leave the boarding house for answers. He pulled up a pair of braces, tucked in his shirt, combed his hair, and trimmed his beard, all the while mumbling Davina wouldn't approve, when it was his idea all along.

Hope paused by the mantlepiece, a photograph of Damon and Stefan in suits, ten years apart caught her eye. She wondered what her parents would think, maybe she was on a wild goose chase?


Hope found some ripped jeans, a blue beret, and a grey cardigan in Damon's wardrobe which made her look like something out of Oliver Twist, but she had more important things to do then worry about how she looked - this wasn't a fashion contest, this was her life.

She and Kol had not encountered anyone from the past yet. Currently, the only people she knew who existed in this time, were Stefan and Damon Salvatore, and Katherine Pierce. Kol, Rebekah and Elijah were presently daggered in coffins by her father Klaus. Her half-brother Marcel, she presumed was building New Orleans into the city it would soon be.

Katherine according to memory would have been on the run, since the moonstone fiasco. The last time she'd brushed up on her vampire history, had been ten years ago, and even Freya would not exist, waking only one day every hundred years to save energy, imprisoned by their psycho Aunt Dahlia, her fraternal grandmother's sister.

Hope was a Mikaelson, but her family was far from perfect.

Hope adjusted her beret in a dusty old mirror, surprised to hear a familiar judging voice.

"What the hell are you wearing, Hope?"

"Give her a break, Lizzie, she wasn't as fortunate as we were, waking up in Lexi's bedroom."

Hope spun on her heels, answering in a croaky voice. "You recognise me?"

"Of course, we do, Hope Andrea Mikaelson!"

"What are you doing here?" Hope explained, hugging the Saltzman twins.

"You tell me, you're the one hanging out with handsome vampire boyfriends," Lizzie said.

Hope rolled her eyes. "He's my uncle, Kol Mikaelson, you might have heard of him?"

Josie squinted at the man leaning against the bathroom door with a cocky grin.

"Fell in love with the Harvest witch, Davina Claire, yeah, I remember."

"I don't," Lizzie said, jumping onto Damon's bed. "So, what pray, are we doing here?"

Hope sent an enigmatic look to Kol, "I don't know, the spell must have transported us all to 1942."

Josie's gaze followed Hope's around Damon's bedroom, curious.

"Just us girls?" Josie counted, as though someone else may materialise in front of her.

Hope appreciated the brown bowler hat Josie had chosen for her aesthetic, and the simple fabric for her flowy dress, which in comparison to Lizzie's bold choice of mahogany pantsuit with braces, and buttoned yellow cardigan, just summarized their differences in personality and fashion sense.

"It seems so," Kol said, pocketing his hands in his pants.

"Well, we better get to the train station, or else we won't see either Salvatore," Josie said.

"How do you know?" Lizzie queried, rolling onto her side.

Josie sighed, "Mum told us, she said Damon missed Stefan so much he wanted to go to war with him, but Lexi intervened, said Stefan deserved better and Damon should stay away from him - he was a recovering Ripper, like MG. Don't you remember?"

"I should pay more attention in history," Lizzie mumbled, rolling off the bed.

"Maybe one of us should stay here?" Josie suggested, after a beat.

"Safer if we travel together," Hope convinced them, gaining Kol's approval.


They arrived in New Orleans by train, descending the platform with eyes peeled for the Salvatores. Kol managed to weave in and out of the crowds; somehow avoiding children; unpacked luggage; families and the enlisted. Nurses caught his eye, but only briefly. He murmured a warning to Hope, Josie and Lizzie, aware of the consequences if they were caught loitering.

"Keep your eyes down, follow me but stay quiet, we can't draw attention to ourselves. Stay close, and do not talk to anyone without my permission. Any interruption in the present, could ricochet into the future, and that could destroy our chances of returning home."

Lizzie scoffed, hand on her heart. "As if I would – who is that?" she breathed, eyeing a man exiting a taxi. He had dark hair, blue eyes and a charming, yet mysterious smile, visible beneath his khaki coloured hat. His buttons were shiny, Lizzie noted, and he was tall and polite. Before she could greet the handsome vampire, breaking all of Kol's rules, Hope flung out her arm -

"That is Damon Salvatore," she hissed.

Lizzie mouthed a theatrical, 'no' then returned her gaze to the soldier.

"I can see why Elena married him," she replied.

They entered Rousseau's following Kol, whose guise as a newspaper boy, caused nobody to take any notice, or realize the newspaper he held was in fact a day old. He beckoned them to follow, indicating they linger by the back table, where they seemed to be forgotten by the other patrons.

Damon Salvatore sat at the bar with his bourbon in hand, a smile lingering on his lips – the prospect of spending the next decade with his little brother, Stefan was a happy memory, Hope presumed.

Kol indicated they sit at the table, whilst he grabbed a cannister of water, and asked a few questions of the barman. It wasn't until Lizzie complained of blisters in her second-hand shoes, that Hope noticed Stefan had entered with a beautiful blond vampire on his arm.

"Lexi Branson," Josie whispered in Hope's ear.

The conversation which prevailed wasn't a happy reunion, unlike Damon must have predicted. Lexi disapproved of the brothers spending time together, naming Damon as a bad influence on Stefan who had only just survived his ripper days of Monterey. Damon argued going to war would also not be a great idea for a reformed ripper, and that Stefan needed him. Whichever angle Damon argued, Lexi put her foot down, it would be best if Damon let Stefan be, and returned home.

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I just needed my little brother?" Damon asked.

Lexi gave him a stern look.

"Did it occur to you; Stefan needs to know he can do this on his own?"

Lizzie watched Damon through a crowd of young soldiers at the bar.

"Oh, just let him be there for his brother," Lizzie hissed, annoyed.

Josie cupped her hand over Lizzie's mouth, "Do you want him to hear us?"

Lizzie rolled her eyes and pushed her sister away.

Hope closed her eyes – she needed to get Kol's attention in a subtle way: connecting their thoughts she put one image into his mind – Marcel.

Maybe it was time to visit an old friend, after all?


Josie peered through the window at Stefan, before he became her mother's best friend and soulmate. Stefan seemed subdued, but keen to be part of something important. She couldn't imagine how it would feel being parted from Lizzie like the Salvatores, to be barred for decades apart. She remembered reading Stefan's journals, those not burned during Rayna's terror.

Klaus and Stefan were friends in the 1920s, there were whole journals dedicated to their friendship – their first meeting at Gloria's club; how Stefan danced with Rebekah, Hope's aunt, and how they compelled humans to feed them their blood. Josie remembered the part where Klaus compelled Stefan to forget him, daggering Rebekah, as Mikael, the vampire hunter, descended on them.

She recalled the name Katerina Petrova, more commonly known as Katherine Pierce, Elena Gilbert's ancestor. Katherine had found Rebekah's necklace and taken it for herself. She had been there in 1920 Chicago, dressed as a flapper, checking in on the love of her life, Stefan Salvatore. Josie caught Hope and Lizzie's concerned looks, and swept her gaze across the room… where was Katherine?

Kol found them huddled by the exit, trying to remain inconspicuous.

It was Hope's exclamation which was stifled by Lizzie's hand this time, causing Kol to turn around.

As Josie had guessed, there a few paces behind the brothers, was Katherine Pierce, dressed as nurse.

"She is the reason Stefan's dead in our time, what if we just-" Lizzie made to do a spell, but Josie grabbed her hand, warning her to stop being so careless.

"We can't change the past. Katherine turned Caroline into a vampire, she also forced Hayley to find Klaus, asking for his protection – change that and we wouldn't exist."

"It's imperative nothing changes," Kol warned, as Lizzie crossed her arms.

Hope watched Katherine laughing with her, dare she say, friends, only meters from Stefan Salvatore.


"When can we go home?" Lizzie whined, adjusting her braces and complaining they were digging into her shoulders. "I miss my own clothes."

"Not until the spell grants it," Kol replied, as they walked down Bourbon Street.

Hope turned to Josie for information. "So, Damon went home, back to Mystic Falls and…?"

Josie was like a walking encyclopaedia; she must have read every book in their school library.

"And he was kidnapped by Augustine, a secret society, then spent five years experimented on, where he met Enzo, Lorenzo St John, Bonnie's boyfriend, he'd spent fifty years imprisoned there."

"What does the spell want from us?" Hope thought aloud. "There has to be a reason?"

"To reunite you with Klaus?" Lizzie suggested, bringing up the rear.

Hope noted the empty cobblestone streets and the horses and carriages.

"Where would dad be?" she wondered, looking around, as if he might jump from behind a pillar.

Kol shook his head, "1960s he was traipsing around London after The Beatles, the 40s, are a blur."

"We could always ask?" Hope pushed open the door to an Occult shop before Kol could stop her.

They filed inside the shop one by one, greeted by a woman named Brynne Deveraux. She seemed kind enough, with a knowledge of magic that went beyond her years. She seemed to guess too, that the strangers were out of towners, and that they did not know about Marcel's rules. Lizzie hovered her hand over the trinkets, feeding on their energy. Josie was intrigued by the old spell books, and even Kol, pulling his cap down to hide his eyes, found himself near rare artefacts.

"We're looking for Klaus Mikaelson?" Hope said, with a hint of Lizzie Saltzman's forcefulness.

Brynne's welcoming eyes turned from warmth to shock, and then as though she'd misheard, said;

"Who did you say?"

Josie gave Hope a warning look, afraid of the consequences of that question. Thankfully, Lizzie's curiosity got the better of her, and distracted the witch by letting a bowl slip through her fingers, crashing to the floor, cracking its side. Kol jumped a foot in the air, tucking something into his shirt pocket, before herding his "friends" out the door.

"I'm so sorry, it just slipped through my fingers. I hope it's not expensive!"

Brynne called out to them, ignoring the broken bowl.

"Klaus Mikaelson was run out of New Orleans twenty years ago by Marcel Gerard. You would be wise to leave. Marcel is no friend to witches – anyone who performs magic here will be found and made an example of. It would be a shame to see such young lives wasted."

Hope understood her warning, but she could handle herself, she was a Mikaelson.

"Then perhaps you can direct us to the compound instead?" Kol suggested.

Kol held Hope and her friends back, remembering Elijah's affair with a witch masquerading under the name 'Sabine Laurent' – her real name, Celeste Dubois. Klaus Mikaelson had murdered her, petty revenge on their eldest brother. Celeste was known for body-jumping into new hosts. Brynne, Sophie's ancestor, did favours for Marcel Gerard, betraying her own kind.

Brynne gave them a curious look, then gave directions. It was only a matter of time before Marcel Gerard would be tracking them down, and Marcel would not be alone – it was his turn to break his own rules, he had to meet Marcel in person, but he'd protect Hope with his life, always and forever.

They stood in an alley way, out of sight, whilst they regrouped.

"I'm going to the compound alone. I'll need you to track down The Crescent Wolves. Hayley might not be born yet, but The Labonairs are alive and well," Kol said.

"Apart from the in-fighting," Lizzie answered their shocked expressions. "What, I read!"

Josie remembered something of interest, something which could help them.

"Brynne was Jane-Anne and Sophie's ancestor. Well Jane-Anne was murdered by Marcel, after casting a linking spell on Hayley, to lure Klaus to New Orleans. She discovered your mother was pregnant, with you, Hope. Maybe we could persuade her to help us get home?"

"Except you're forgetting, Brynne is possessed by Celeste Dubois, insistent on finding and destroying Klaus. If she discovered our secret, we would all be doomed."

"This is off topic, but is there a possibility there's an ascendant in this time?" Lizzie interrupted. "I mean, think about it, what if we take it, and send Celeste to a new prison world?"

Hope and Josie rolled their eyes to the Heavens.

"- our lives as we know it would be forever altered-"

"-It would be like Jinny all over again-"

Lizzie huffed. "What's the point of time travel, if we can't change anything?"

"To learn from the past," Kol muttered, checking if the coast was clear. "See you here in an hour."


Freya and Davina's eyes were shut, Latin falling off their tongues in an attempt to locate Kol, Hope, Josie and Lizzie. Lafayette Cemetery was home to many witches and humans alike. Their pendants unmoved by their spells – it was like they weren't of this world, Davina thought.

Candlelight flickered as Rebekah blew into the room with worry.

"Anything yet? Marcel's keeping Landon, Rafael, MG and Kaleb busy with errands, but it's only a matter of time before they try something stupid to rescue them themselves."

Keelin aligned the individual belongings within the chalk circle, giving Rebekah a look of reassurance.

They would try again, until the spell worked.

Davina opened her eyes, "it's not working" she had an inkling why – one of her spell books was missing, and Kol would often give them to Hope thinking she hadn't noticed, well, this particular book had a spell which could send the witch to another time.

Surely Kol hadn't, but it was the only thing that made sense, the only spell which she couldn't undo.

"Time travel," Freya whispered, reading Davina's thoughts.

Rebekah eyed Davina's diamond engagement ring; Hope's necklace she'd given to Josie to make 'quiet things heard'; Lizzie's bracelet; and Landon's navigation watch Hope had made for him.

"So, how do we rescue them?" Rebekah pressed.

"We don't, we guide them with magic," Freya replied.

Freya held out her hand, indicating Keelin, Rebekah and Davina also contribute.

She cut her palm with a knife, letting her blood mix with the objects, then she began to chant.

Let the blood of our forefathers

show them the way

protect them if all else fails

and lead them home

Rebekah felt her worries lessen, she opened her eyes to find the objects on the table had disappeared, leaving an empty table. Freya wiped sweat from her brow and leaned against her wife. Davina turned to Rebekah, giving her a kind smile: "I'll put on a pot of tea. It's up to them now."

A/N: Tweaked the TVD universe a bit, but hey, we'll see where it takes us. Stay tuned x