I own nothing but my own words.
What Kind of Peace, Indeed
"Yes, sir… I understand… Yes, sir… I'll do better… I will. Yes, sir."
Ryan's monotonous words repeated through his mind as he hurried back to his bland little cubicle situated in the middle of an endless sea of nondescript faces, each cubicle blander than the last.
One more face in the crowd, just another minion trying to make a quota and keep the boss happy.
When the boss was the father of the woman you were dating, it was even harder to keep him happy. Thus, there was never any leniency. There was only a higher demand to do a better job. No matter how many sales he made, it was never good enough.
He was never good enough.
Why did it feel like serving Malivore all over again?
His father always found him lacking, always considered him a failure no matter how much he tried. He spent centuries trying to gain his approval, all for naught.
As a human, he didn't have centuries to prove his worth.
Plus, he didn't want to.
He played that game long enough.
Being human was supposed to mean having a normal life. Yes, being human sucked, but it was also supposed to come with freedom and love. The two things he never had but always wanted.
Ever since Hope left—and if he was being truthful, even before Hope came to visit—he was feeling less and less free. He wasn't even sure he was feeling love. Yes, he knew exactly what he wanted but he never had love before so how was he supposed to know if what he really felt for Trudy was love? He cared about her, or he wouldn't have been so upset with Hope for hurting her feelings the way she did. But was it love? What did he really know about love anyway?
The other part of the truth was that… Hope was right. He did kind of miss some of his old life. He missed the freedom of being his own boss with his own mission outside of the ones Triad gave him. He didn't miss the monsters though, but sometimes he hated that he had all this knowledge about them and he couldn't do anything with it.
If he was being truly honest… if Hope hadn't threatened Trudy, if she hadn't treated him the way she had… if she was the same old Hope, with humanity fully intact… if she had stressed the importance and asked him more than once… he would've gone with her willingly.
But a humanity-free Hope was a loose canon that, frankly, scared him at first. Later, before he had it out with her, he wasn't scared anymore. He was just angry and frustrated because he knew she was partly right about him, but he couldn't give her that satisfaction, not when she needed the people back home more than she needed him.
Putting his headset on, he reached to press the button to allow for incoming calls but found himself opening his desk drawer instead to sift through the cards until he found the one he was looking for.
Every time Trudy gave him a new card, the old one went into the drawer and the new one was propped up on his desk. She gave him a card just to wish him a happy day, or to let him know she was thinking of him. The card currently on display was in honor of their three week anniversary. Every card she gave him had a cat on the front. Trudy had a thing for cats.
All of the cards in the drawer had a cat on the front except for one.
After massive amounts of groveling along with begging on his behalf by Trudy, his job was reinstated the day following Hope's chaos-spree. Hope must've dropped by the office on her way out of town and left him a parting gift since a new card was waiting for him in a dark red envelope.
CLARKE in bold letters was written on the front.
The card featured two wolves howling at the moon, and she left a message inside along with drawings of multiple red flags.
Cats? Really? Didn't we already have that conversation?
If you change your mind…
His eyes were drawn to the phone number written below her words.
Just one call and he would have the freedom he was craving once more.
He wouldn't have the love, but he was beginning to think love without freedom was just as bad as having neither at all.
But if he was going to work with Hope, there were a few stipulations.
He pressed the receiver to make an outside call and dialed without a second thought.
"You can't kill any humans," he demanded as soon as she answered.
"Excuse me?"
"And no more dropping me off platforms or putting me in danger without my say-so."
"Clarkey, is that you?"
"My name is Ryan Clarke," he stated clearly. "I'm not the monster, and I'm not the… whatever I'm trying to be here. I'm something else, and until I figure it out, I go by both names. Got it?"
"Yes, sir," she sneered.
"I'll go with you, find this new Triad, but you have to agree to my terms."
"And if I don't?"
"Forget I called."
"I'll be there by five."
A B C
Lizzie looked down at the piece of wood in her hands.
A stake was a lethal weapon by any means, but one even deadlier to vampires. One made of this kind of wood, however, was the only kind that could kill one type of vampire in particular.
An original vampire. One that wasn't sired by another vampire. One that was created by other means.
The Mikaelsons made up the original vampires, and Hope was the newest. Sired by her own blood. An original in her own right.
The white oak had been extinct for nigh on a millennia, but, as Lizzie figured out during her time in the therapy box, nature always found a loophole. She knew that, it was drilled into her head during her classes growing up, and yet she was so messed up from everything happening she couldn't draw that conclusion without a little help.
She remembered though, and the moment she beat the game—beat Hope Mikaelson—she waltzed back into the real world with one purpose and one purpose alone.
To find the loophole that would kill the almighty tribrid for what she had done to her father.
Now that she found the loophole, thanks to Cleo, there was only one thing left to do.
Take this wood and shove it right through Hope Mikaelson's heart.
She just had to find her first.
A B C
"Trudy wasn't kidding about you and your sensitive tummy-wummy," Hope's voice mocked as Ryan climbed back into the passenger seat at the rest stop.
"You promised not to say the 'T' word again," he grumbled, pulling his seatbelt on. After quitting his job, he left to break things off with Trudy before heading to his own place to pack what was necessary for the trip and wait for Hope. The breakup hadn't gone very well. The sobbing and crying still resounded in his ears. His new human self wasn't too keen on hurting people, especially not someone who cared for him.
He grimaced.
"Seriously, who makes themselves human only to be lactose intolerant?" she peeled out of the spot and zoomed down the relatively quiet road. "Guess there are perks to being a monster after all."
"I'd rather be human than have the ability to consume dairy."
"Then here's a tip. Avoid dairy." She tossed a necklace at him. "And wear this."
"What is it?" he asked, picking up the long chain with a tiny cross. "You do know crosses don't really ward off vampires. Weren't you taught that in Introduction to Vampires 101?"
"It was all they had," she shrugged. "It's now a protection charm, courtesy yours truly."
"Protection from what?" he asked as he slipped it over his head since it was wide enough.
"Magic. Can't do much about protecting you from vampires and werewolves, but it'll ward off spells from anyone who isn't as strong as me."
"There is no one as strong as you."
"I know," she said with a smirk.
"You're pretty cocky now that you're the tribrid."
"Why wouldn't I be? I hold more power than anyone has ever had before. You really think I'm gonna downplay that?"
"That lack of humanity doesn't come with an ounce of humility, I see."
"Was never very humble with humanity either, if I recall."
He snickered.
She grinned at him ruefully.
"Eyes on the road," he said, gripping the edges of his seat.
She rolled her eyes but turned her attention back to the road as requested.
"Thanks, though… for the charm. Didn't think you cared."
"It'd take too much time training someone else if you die," she shrugged.
"Right."
He didn't believe her. She was perfectly capable of doing all of this alone. She was going to do it all alone before he called. She wanted to protect him. He was right; her humanity was still there somewhere deep inside and that part of Hope didn't want him to die while helping her. He wouldn't call her out on it this time, but he would find out in a roundabout way.
"Did you go back?" he asked. "To the school? Like I said?"
She scoffed, "I don't do anything just because someone tells me to, least of all you."
"Uh huh."
"I went to the school for weapons," she replied nonchalantly. "Didn't stay long."
And there it was. Proof that he reached her before. The lamest excuse of them all—she went for weapons? She could've compelled the staff at any sporting goods store to give her anything she needed: knives, daggers, crossbows, guns, etc. She had the power to make any of them dark objects if need be. The only thing that might be hard to come by was a sword, but surely it would be easier to find one close by instead of driving six hours north to a place she ran to get as far away from everything that reminded her of her humanity as possible.
She went home because he told her to.
Her friends didn't do what they were supposed to do though. They didn't finish what he started, and he didn't understand how that was possible.
"They must've been surprised to see you," he said. "Though, Saltzman probably couldn't wait to re-enroll you."
"Well, there was one Saltzman around," she shrugged. "I took a page from your playbook this time."
She smirked at his look of confusion.
"Stuck Josie in the therapy box. Seemed to work to contain Vardemus for… how long did you put him in there for?"
"Months…" he forgot about that. At least it sounded like they found the man eventually. "What about the other Saltzmans?"
"Lizzie wasn't around, guess she wasn't interested in trying to reach me," she laughed. "She probably knows what the others don't. That there's no hope of getting my humanity back. Poor Josie just couldn't give up. At least I convinced Lizzie."
"But… if Lizzie wasn't around, how did you convince her?"
"With a message I left them all a few weeks back."
"What kind of message?"
"Let's just say, I wonder if Vardemus is still available to be headmaster," she said sweetly, then pressed her foot further down on the accelerator.
Ryan gripped the seat edges again as he processed her words.
She did something to Alaric Saltzman.
Something that was bad enough for Lizzie to give up on her completely.
No wonder sending her home didn't work.
Landon, Alaric, Lizzie—the A team was out of commission.
If there was any hope of getting her humanity back on… he was beginning to think it might all be up to him.
He reached her once but he didn't know if he could do it again.
"It's getting late," he said, suddenly needing a break to think away from her to figure out a way to help her. "We are stopping somewhere to rest before stomping our way into the next facility, right?"
She sighed. "Humans."
"Oh, don't even pretend you haven't been stopping to sleep in a real bed with a hot shower every night."
"It's like you know me or something."
He was counting on it.
"Fine," she acquiesced. "But you're getting your own room. I need my beauty sleep."
Even better.
A B C
The knock on his door came a little earlier than expected.
Not that he wasn't awake. He barely slept through the night.
When he could send her home, when he could rely on her family and friends to save her, he could breathe a lot easier.
With the task falling on his shoulders, he panicked.
But, the truth of it, humanity on or off, Hope Mikaelson was his only friend.
He was the one who insisted on defining them as friends. He wanted her to be his friend.
Friends needed each other though, and the friendship went both ways.
If he was truly her friend, he should do whatever it took to get her back and not push the duty off onto her other friends.
She promised not to let anyone hurt him, and she kept that promise.
It was his turn to prove he was worthy of her friendship. He couldn't back off when she needed him the most.
He opened the door.
"Gonna need a few more minutes," he grumbled, running a hand through his messy hair. "You're early."
He dropped his hand and turned to trudge back to the bathroom.
"Early bird catches the worm," she said. "Or something."
"Uh, yeah," he grunted. "Give me twenty minutes."
"I'll wait."
"Suit yourself," he mumbled, grabbing his toothbrush. "Can always make yourself useful and start a pot of coffee."
He expected her to tell him to make it himself, after all, the tribrid didn't do what anyone told her to do.
What he didn't expect was for her to actually do it.
Brushing his teeth thoroughly, he stood in the doorway perplexed as he watched her.
He rinsed his mouth out then combed at the messy locks while keeping one eye on her.
"Gonna pour it for me too?" he asked.
"Don't push your luck," she glared at him.
Well that response was expected.
"Worth a shot," he shrugged, pulling his new necklace over his head.
He tossed the rest of his toiletries in the small pack and walked into the main room to stuff it in his suitcase.
"Ready now?" she asked, while pouring a cup of coffee for herself.
"Almost…" his eyes trailed from the cup in her hand to the ring on her finger. "Where did you get that?"
"Get what?" she asked, setting the cup down and reaching for the sugar.
"That ring," he said.
If he wasn't mistaken, that was his ring, the one he used to pretend to be Vardemus… to create the illusion that he was Vardemus.
She shrugged, "Well, it works better than a polyjuice potion—not that that ever existed outside of a Harry Potter novel."
Whoever this was, it wasn't Hope… was it someone from the Triad? But how did they get the ring? Last time he saw it, Hope had it. If this wasn't Hope, it had to someone from the school.
"See, I needed to find Hope," the person pretending to be Hope said as they added non-dairy creamer to the cup. "She stopped by long enough to pick up some weapons, but she mentioned something about Triad. And there's only one person we all know related to Triad so…"
"You put a locator spell on the ring, since it belongs to me," he said, biting his lip and standing stock still.
He didn't know who it was, but if it was a witch, he was protected against them at least. Thank goodness he put the charm back on. He never should've taken it off to begin with.
"As luck would have it, you weren't surprised at all to see me as Hope."
Not only had he not been surprised, he let on that Hope would be coming for him soon.
Crap.
"If you're here to help turn her humanity back on, I can help," he said. "Do you have a plan? Who are you, by the way?"
"Oh, my apologies," she twisted the ring and Hope became Lizzie in front of him. "It's Lizzie, and I'm well past caring about her humanity and I've got a white oak stake with her name on it to prove it."
Lizzie was the one who had given up on Hope, which meant…
"I'm here to kill her," she twisted the ring again and he blinked.
He was staring at himself now.
"Goodnight, Clarke," the imposter said before waving a hand. "Ad somnum."
He was familiar with that spell. Lizzie used it on him a few weeks ago too.
Remembering that the necklace protected him from magic, he knew the spell wouldn't knock him out, but he also knew if he didn't pass out now, she might make things more difficult. Magic couldn't affect him but other sharp pointy things could.
Faking it, he pretended to roll his eyes back in his head and dropped to the floor.
Now, he just had to lay still until she left then figure out a way to warn Hope.
Lizzie mentioned a white oak stake, and he knew that was the only thing that could kill an original.
That could kill Hope.
A B C
Removing the cord attaching the hotel room phone to the wall jack, Lizzie wrapped it up and stuffed it in her pocket. Glancing around the room, she saw his cell phone on the night stand. She stuffed that in her pocket too.
Humming, she found a lid for her coffee and covered it.
Only a matter of time now.
Walking to the full-length mirror, she looked over her outfit. The jeans were an exact match for the ones Clarke was wearing. The white t-shirt needed something over top though.
She had to finish packing his crap anyway.
Seeing a pullover in the suitcase, she twisted the ring and it appeared over top of the t-shirt. She looked in the mirror again.
Something was missing.
The necklace.
She tried to get a look at it to replicate it, but he was lying on his stomach.
Sighing, she squatted and undid the clasp. Pulling it off, she decided just to put it around her neck. Why not make the illusion as accurate as possible?
She glanced at the clock then hastened to zip up the suitcase.
It didn't really matter if everything was in it or not. It was only for show.
Picking up the suitcase and her coffee, she walked to the door. Closing it behind her, she pressed her hand to the door and whispered.
"Sealant."
Clarke wouldn't be waking up for hours, but when he did she didn't want him to get out and find a way to warn Hope. She wasn't sure how long it would be until she could get to a place where she could get the drop on Hope, so until then, she needed him contained.
A B C
Hope started the car after Ryan stuffed his suitcase in the trunk and slid into the passenger seat, putting his coffee cup in the holder.
She waited for him to buckle his seat belt… but he never did.
"Well?" he said, glancing at her.
"Waiting on you, Ryan," she said with a mocking tone. "Mr. Slow-Down-Before-I-Crash-And-Kill-Your-Fragile-Human-Body."
"I don't sound like that."
"Whatever," she shrugged. "You want to live dangerously today? Welcome back, Clarke. The seatbelt will be there when Ryan makes a reappearance."
He glared at her as he pulled the belt into place.
"There he is!" she cheered as she reversed the car and pulled out of the spot. "Was thinking about worrying, but then I remembered I don't care."
"Whatever, Hope," he said, then sipped at the coffee.
"Well, you woke up on the wrong side of the bed. As for me, I had the most glorious night's sleep."
"Boast much?"
"You know it," she winked at him.
He looked heavenward then away as if to ignore her.
"You used non-dairy creamer, right?" she said, eyeing his cup.
"It was all they had," he shrugged.
Hope glanced from him to the cup, then back to the road.
"Why so cranky?" she said. "Trudy isn't blowing up your phone, is she?"
He glared at her again.
"Right," she laughed. "Not allowed to use the 'T' word."
He didn't respond.
"Almost there," she said.
"Good."
Hope glanced at him again.
"Going to ask where we're going?" she asked.
"Figured you'd tell me when we got there."
Hope raised her head and shifted in her seat, staring straight forward as she asked, "I was thinking Dairy Queen afterwards. We can get blizzards."
"Yeah, whatever," he said.
"Excellent," Hope said, then signaled right and pulled the car over. "Right here."
Parking along side the road, she turned the car off and twirled the keys.
"Ready?" she grinned.
"What's the plan?" he said, putting his cup in the holder and unfastening the seatbelt.
"Just follow my lead," she said.
She got out of the car and went to the trunk.
"Here," she said, passing a small knife.
"That's it?" he said, waving it back and forth.
"Gotta keep a low profile, Clarke. Can't go in with guns blazing."
"And we're going in… where?" he looked around.
The wooded area to the right of the car looked fairly unpopulated.
"Just through there," she nodded and closed the trunk.
"Nothing for you?" he asked, noting her empty hands.
"I'm all the weapon I need."
A B C
As soon as the door closed, Ryan was on his feet and racing for the door.
Waiting long enough for her to get down the hall to the elevator, he grabbed the handle, turned it, and pulled.
And nearly fell backwards when the door stayed right where it was.
Cursing, he checked the deadbolt and saw that it was unlocked. He tried to yank, and then yank again but it wasn't moving.
Crap.
She used magic on the door so he couldn't open it.
Turning around, he headed for his cell phone, but of course it was gone.
What was it with these girls getting rid of his phone?!
Grabbing the hotel phone, he pressed the button for an outside call and dialed Hope's number from memory—he looked at that blasted wolf card enough over the week to know it by heart. Then he realized there was no sound.
Then he noted the phone wasn't connected to anything.
"Damn it!"
He threw the phone.
Looking at the window, he bit his lip and took a deep breath.
Three stories up… no big deal, right?
Stuffing his feet into his shoes, he grabbed a dress shirt left hanging in the closet that she didn't pack and shrugged it on as he went to draw back the curtains.
This was going to suck.
He paused to look around the parking lot in time to see a familiar car pull off.
"Damn it, Hope, that's not me!"
Watching the direction she went, he made a note of it, not sure he would even be able to follow if he could get out of the room.
A familiar shade of blue drew his eye.
He knew that car.
A 1969 Chevy Camaro.
He once took a ride in its trunk.
"Well, Clarke," he murmured to himself. "If you can get down there, let's see if you remember how to hotwire."
A B C
"Are you sure this is right?"
Hope trudged on through the thick of the woods.
"Yeah," she called back.
"How does anyone else even get there?"
"These are witches, vampires, and werewolves, Clarke. A little nature doesn't bother them. What, scared of ticks?"
"No, just think you've been led astray. Far far astray."
"Really?" Hope said, as she finally came to a smallish clearing. "That's funny."
"What's so funny about it?" he panted as he joined her then brushed off his clothes and ran his fingers through his hair quickly.
"Thinking I'm the one that's been led astray," she said, turning to face him with a knowing smirk.
"Not that funny," he said. "Where to now?"
"Just a minute," she held up a finger. "First, I have to ask."
"What?"
"What did you do with Clarke?" she asked. "And if he's not alive, trust me, you will live to regret it."
He laughed. "What gave me away?"
"Your attitude, the way you talked, the way you got angry instead of annoyed when I mentioned Trudy, but mostly? The whole dairy thing. He's lactose intolerant. So, where is he? I'm assuming its Lizzie, right? Might as well show yourself."
Lizzie twisted the ring and dropped the illusion.
"Pretty ironic, isn't it?" Lizzie said with a sneer. "Twice the Landon in front of you wasn't actually Landon and you had no idea, yet five minutes of me pretending to be Clarke and you figured it out."
"I'm not clouded by my emotions anymore," Hope declared. "Surely this isn't you trying to turn them back on. Should've taken your chance back with your little friends. The deal is over now. It can't protect you. Especially if you hurt Clarke."
"One would almost think you cared about the mudman turned human," Lizzie scoffed. "But that would mean there's some humanity in there, and that's not possible."
Hope narrowed her eyes at her, "You're right. It's not possible. But I have plans for him, and I don't like when my plans are ruined. So, you have one last chance to answer the question. What did you do with him?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Lizzie glared.
Hope raised her hand, "Mittent."
Lizzie threw her hands up to deflect the spell, but she realized she didn't have to.
Nothing happened.
"Losing your edge?" Lizzie asked.
Hope frowned. "Mittent!"
Again, nothing happened.
"Let's see…" Lizzie put a finger thoughtfully to her lip. "What was that again? Oh, right, Mittent!"
Hope went flying backwards and landed on the ground in a heap.
"Not such an almighty tribrid now, are you?" Lizzie sneered.
With lightning fast speed, Hope leaped from the ground and raced to Lizzie, gripping her hand around her throat and holding her aloft before the blonde could even blink.
Lizzie struggled for air and clawed at Hope's hand.
Hope's eyes glittered in the sunlight as she recognized the necklace around her frenemy's throat.
The one she gave Clarke that protected him from all magic, including her own.
She bared her teeth at the proof of Lizzie getting close enough to him to take it. She grabbed the chain and tore it off with her free hand.
"Let's see you deflect me now," Hope growled. "Mittent!"
The hand around her throat released as Lizzie went flying backwards.
"Pulvinarus!" Lizzie screamed out the spell to create a magical cushion between her back and a thick tree trunk Hope nearly slammed her into.
"Going for the spine again?" Lizzie said, panting as she slid carefully to the ground and stood. "How original."
"Oh, you want originality?" Hope asked as the black veins danced under her eyes.
"There she is!" Lizzie announced. "That third part, the vampire part. Well, come on, let me have it."
She pulled a wooden stake out from behind her back. "And maybe I'll let you have this."
Hope snickered. "That only works on a regular vampire. Surely even you know that."
"What I know is that you've had all the time in the world to kill me, and yet you went for the hurt instead of the kill," Lizzie said. "I wonder why that is."
"If this is where you try to appeal to my humanity, like I said before, it won't work," Hope said. "I could snap your spine in an instant. In one step."
The anger boiled inside of Lizzie as the memory of Hope doing that to her father assaulted her.
"But you haven't yet," Lizzie said, tapping her chin thoughtfully with the stake as she turned to walk a few paces one way, then retraced her steps. "What's stopping you?"
"Nothing," Hope said, then waved her hand and branches tore off from a nearby tree to go flying at Lizzie.
"Deflecto," Lizzie said, then waved her own hand to send the same branches flying back at Hope.
Hope waved her hand and the branches dropped to the ground.
"You won't kill me because you want to know where Clarke is, don't you?" Lizzie realized, shaking her head. "After what you did to my dad, sending that message to stay away from you because you didn't want any of us to help you, you still don't want to be alone, do you? Yeah, there's some humanity left in there, but you know what? I don't care. Because that little bit of humanity was still there when you did what you did to my dad. So, screw you, Hope!"
Raising her arms, the fallen branches rose in the air again and went flying at Hope with greater force than before. But Lizzie just kept going, throwing anything and everything she could at Hope—branches, bushes, anything that her magic was strong enough to tear out of the ground. Leaves tore off, fluttering between them, partially blocking their vision of the other.
Hope raised her own arms and deflected the onslaught as numerous broken sharp pointy things were thrown at her, rolling her eyes at the whole display.
A flash a silver slid through the mess and stabbed Hope in the stomach—the knife she gave her from the trunk.
Keeping one hand up to ward off Lizzie's childish tantrum, she pulled the knife out.
Maybe Lizzie would like it back.
"Mittent!" Lizzie screamed again before she could release the knife.
Hope flew backwards and landed on the ground once more.
"Done with this," Hope muttered as the last of the branches dropped around her. "He's probably tied up at the hotel."
Jumping to her feet, she prepared to launch herself at Lizzie again, to finish it once and for all.
She didn't notice that Lizzie had sent one last thing flying at her—the same stake Lizzie brandished so proudly moments before. Even if Hope had noticed, she wouldn't have cared if it hit her because she wouldn't have known it could actually kill her.
But Clarke knew.
Which was why, when he finally found them after following their trail, grateful Hope parked on the road so he knew where to stop, he didn't think twice.
There was no time to warn her; there was no time to reach her either.
There was only time to jump into the wide open space between Hope and Lizzie to stop the stake himself.
So, that was what he did.
He jumped right into the path of the speeding white oak stake, allowing it to slam into his heart instead of Hope's.
"Son of a bitch!" Lizzie swore. "No!"
She sent that stake flying at Hope with every ounce of rage that existed in her soul, and it went through the heart of the wrong person!
She bent forward, her hands braced on her knees, a strange feeling racing through her.
Then a sound reached her ears.
A loud high pitch keening noise.
Forcing her way through the dazed shock, she searched out the source.
Hope.
Hope saw Ryan falter in front of her after hearing a soft thud. Then he fell to the ground, a slow raspy rattle as he tried to breathe that cut off suddenly. At the sight of the stake protruding from his chest, embedded deep in his chest, something clicked.
Staggering forward, Hope felt everything come back from the pit of darkness inside of her. Every action, every word, every single emotion—it all came rushing back along with the pain of seeing the only person who ever really understood her dying in front of her.
Lizzie watched as Hope collapsed to her knees on the ground next to Clarke. Her face was crumbled in a mess of grief, screaming in agony.
Her humanity.
It was back.
Lizzie took a deep breath and stood, walking forward.
She didn't mean to hurt him, but he jumped in front of Hope. With his height, if he was right next to Hope she would've missed his heart, but since he was in the clearing between them the slight downward angle meant the stake was higher in the air as it followed the path to Hope's heart.
Sometimes making the hard choice meant someone could get caught in the crossfire. She felt unsteady, that strange feeling returning as she tried to process the death of someone that she caused.
Deep down, she knew it was going to haunt her no matter how much she tried to justify it; but, in this moment, his death was overshadowed by knowing what Hope was going through.
Reaching, she pulled the stake out and stared down at Hope in all of her pain as she tried unsuccessfully to revive Clarke, cutting her wrist and trying to feed it to him.
"Come on, Ryan!" Hope cried, insisting. "Drink!"
Lizzie knew it was pointless. Even if Hope's blood somehow wasn't toxic to him, he was gone before he hit the ground.
"Your humanity is back. Good," Lizzie said coldly. "Now you can feel what I feel."
She could tell when Hope finally accepted he was gone because she pulled back and stared at him with her bloody hands covering her mouth.
"Clarke was your trigger. Huh." Lizzie stared at the blood on the stake, transfixed by the dark stains that would feature in her nightmares. "Too bad no one at school thought of him."
The pain, it was excruciating. Hope fought against it with every fiber of her being, knowing the consequences of letting the pain shut her down. She couldn't shut it off again, not when she did… what she did.
Aunt Rebekah.
Josie.
Doctor Saltzman.
Oh my God.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"
She leaned over Clarke's body in agony, clutching at him, eyes fixed on his blank face.
He was gone. He was gone and it hurt.
"It hurts! It hurts so much! I can't… I can't!" she looked up at Lizzie desperately, begging her silently to end the agony but only meeting the icy empty gaze of the person who was once her best friend.
The cold unyielding eyes made that way by all the pain she caused.
"I'm so sorry!"
"Sorry isn't going to fix this," Lizzie said. "But if you ever show your face at school again, this," she held up the piece of wood, "lovely bit of white oak stake? That will fix it."
Hope's gaze widened as she took in the stake with new eyes
"Yeah," Lizzie said. "He knew what it was. Guess I shouldn't have shared that bit of information. This would've ended very differently."
"Lizzie…" Hope rasped out, her eyes welling with fresh tears.
"If I ever see you again, I will kill you," Lizzie promised fiercely.
Then Lizzie walked away leaving her former frenemy turned bestie turned enemy to her agony.
Let her suffer.
It was what she deserved.
A B C
"Well, I didn't expect to ever see you here."
Ryan grimaced at his brother's words. "Didn't expect to be here."
In limbo. The afterlife was not on his list of things to experience any time soon.
"Hope?" Alaric asked grimly.
"Lizzie," Ryan said just as grimly.
Alaric's eyes widened. "No…"
"My fault," Ryan shrugged sheepishly.
"What'd you do to her?" Alaric asked with a hard look.
"Nothing. Just got in the way of a really pointy stake made of white oak."
"White oak?" Landon asked.
"It's… the only thing that can kill an original…" Alaric glanced quickly at Landon then back to Clarke. "You mean…"
"She tried to kill Hope. My heart got in the way. Literally."
And figuratively. Ryan looked away, shaking his head at the irony.
In the split second it took for him to make the decision, he finally learned what it meant to love. He loved Hope Mikaelson and would do anything for her, even give his life for hers apparently.
"This is bad. This is so bad," Landon paced back and forth. "Hope's humanity is off and Lizzie is literally trying to kill her."
Alaric shook his head, looking sick as he spoke as if his daughter could hear him. "I didn't want revenge, Lizbear. Not against Hope. Never that."
"Well, at least one of those things you don't have to worry about anymore," Ryan said. "Pretty sure I heard Hope screaming right before I showed up here. Which I think means—"
"I don't believe it," Alaric said, staring at Clarke. "Her humanity is on?"
Ryan nodded.
"You're sure?" Landon asked hopefully.
"Can't think of any other reason she would scream."
"Of all the people, all the friends, all the family," Alaric said with growing disbelief. "Are you telling me you're the one who triggered her humanity?"
"Looks like it," Ryan shrugged.
"How is that possible?" Landon asked raising an eyebrow. "Not that I'm not glad, but she barely knows you."
Ryan wasn't sure how to answer that.
"No," Alaric grudgingly responded. "She knows him."
Landon looked back and forth between Doctor Saltzman and Clarke. "I mean, I got Malivore's memories before I died so I know she showed up with you a couple times, but… you died for her. Why?"
"Because she's my friend," Ryan stated firmly. "Friends fight for each other."
Landon accepted his words as the truth they were, though the confusion on his face never left.
"He was looking for redemption," Alaric supplied for Landon. "At least, she believed that he was, but I never really did… I guess you found it."
"Lucky me," Ryan said sardonically. "So, where do I go from here?"
He felt his hand tingle and he looked down.
"I'd say you definitely found it," Alaric muttered.
"No way," Landon said, the confusion on his face growing. "How do you show up with a coin?"
"What's it for?" Ryan asked, holding it closer to get a better look.
"It's your ticket to peace," Alaric explained. "Just gotta catch the ferry."
Ryan looked toward the small dock.
"So… you guys didn't get one?" he asked, confused and curious.
"I have one," Landon said. "Just didn't arrive with one. Doctor Saltzman, on the other hand…"
"I'm going to wait anyway," Alaric said. "I can't really find peace now… not until my girls do. Hopefully that happens a long time from now."
"So, why haven't you gone?" Ryan asked Landon.
"Keeping him company?" Landon shrugged. "Plus… Rafael and Hope kind of are my peace. If I take that boat… what kind of peace would I have without them?"
Ryan thought back over his entire life, from his time as a mudman to his very brief time as a human, and knew there was only one person he ever wanted to be at peace with.
Hope.
He got what he most wanted, the one thing that always eluded him.
He knew love.
Plus, he had his freedom, which was why he was free to make his own choice now.
Stuffing the coin into his jeans pocket, he resigned himself to a long wait.
"What kind of peace, indeed."
A B C
Finished.