An: Trigger warning for mention of suicide and finding of a body. Be careful reading.
Sheriff Donovan didn't look too happy when he arrived, arms crossed before Alaric. "This is going to be a hot case, but I think we can have it wrapped up before the game tonight."
Alaric was quiet at first, hot waves of shame rolling over him. "I refused to let her practice her coven magic. Maybe she begged so hard because it was the only thing she thought to find real comfort in."
"Let's not start throwing blame. There's a sexual predator running free right now." He seemed to think before making eye contact with Alaric. "We're going to need a skilled compulsionist and a witch to make a vervain detox. Possibly. He might not be on the stuff."
"I already sent for my compulsion specialist." As if summoned, MG appeared at the door, letting himself in.
"Headmaster, you sent a note saying you needed to see me? Is this about Morgan? She's been acting off since Lizzie said we had a game."
Alaric hesitated, wondering how to word this when he saw Milton's eyes narrowing at the sight of the sheriff. "It is about Morgan, yes."
Milton's eyes looked watery, as if he might start crying. "You found her body, didn't you? She finally managed to kill herself." He quivered in his seat while Alaric stared at him horrified.
"What are you talking about, Milton? She's fine. Well, for now. She apparently hasn't been." Alaric's stomach turned as he came to the realization of how out of touch he was with some of his students.
"You don't know? What are you talking about? I found her floating in her tub, fully clothed, bleeding to death last year." MG was frowning now. "She told you. I made her to come to you. That's when she started weekly therapy sessions with Emma."
Alaric opened Morgan's file, which he had been pouring over. "She isn't. She only sees Emma once a month, the bare minimum for Salvatore Academy students."
Now MG looked confused too. "You said she tried to kill herself?" MG nodded at him. Alaric's stomach became a heavy pit of molten lead.
"I have to fix this. What I need for you is to use your top-tier compulsion. There can be no doubt of his guilt. Sheriff Donovan and I are riding to arrest the perpetrator shortly. You need to be at the trial after that." Alaric fixed him with his most serious look. "You're probably going to hear exactly how she suffered. Do you want to do this? I can still find someone else to do the compulsion."
"I'm doing this. I failed her too. I literally found her with cuts all over her arms and I agreed to let her come to you and Emma herself." They shared a nod.
"Be ready in about five hours. We'll grab you on the way to the trial."
x
Rebekah Mikaelson was gentle, more gentle than Morgan was expecting after her blow up. Morgan perused the materials at the hobby art store, looking at the range. In her cart were several things Rebekah and Marcel had picked just for her. "I thought we came here to find the more expensive things Klaus needs for his body. Not feed my art thirst."
Marcel shrugged. "You don't seem to have much in the way of personal interest. I see no wrong in encouraging your art skills."
Morgan shrugged. "All art is attractive. A way to express yourself without physically saying anything."
She stopped in front of the textiles, pursing her lips in thought before grabbing a sewing kit. "Do you guys happen to have Hope's first baby blanket?"
"It's covered in the blood of Monique Deveraux, but yes." Marcel gave her an appraising glance. "Why?"
"Klaus nonverbally stated a suggestion to me that he wanted his core, the heart, to be made of hope. This is the closest I can think of. Have to cut around the blood or I risk Monique coming back as his room mate. Now that is necromancy." Morgan kept looking, zoning out and passing her fingers over the array of things available to her before stopping abruptly over a massive paint set with watercolors, acrylics, gouache, and oil. Each type had a full array of colors, both glossy and matte. "This too." She turned to them. "I think that's all. I can go back now. If I keep working, I could finish early this morning."
Rebekah checked her phone and shot Marcel a look. "Lunch instead. I'm not taking you back until I know you feel better."
Morgan got quiet. "You told Alaric, didn't you? They're having a trial and you don't think I should be there."
"No, frankly I don't." Marcel was blunt. "Considering that I had to use compulsion to help you finally say it...You aren't ready to face your assaulter."
"People sure like telling me specifically what I can and can't do." Morgan raised an eyebrow.
"Well you could." Rebekah sighed. "But I happen to agree with Marcel that it would make you worse." She gave Morgan's shoulder a gentle squeeze and Morgan let it go.
"Ok, but I still want to get back to sculpting the body. That's almost done. I need to start mixing the shades that make up his body." She blushed a little at what she needed to say next. "I...need a naked picture of your brother. Eugh, oh that's so creepy! But I don't think Klaus Mikaelson would want me to get his bits all wrong, given how often he used them."
Marcel started laughing. "I'm so going to rub this one in his face." They went for lunch and got Morgan back to the academy, but Rebekah stayed, watching her go to work on the fine details of Klaus' toes. Right now he rather resembled a mannequin, which was fortunate because she doubted Rebekah wanted to see her brother's dick. She began to slip into a memory as she felt Klaus' hands on her own.
x
Klaus Mikaelson sat next to the mirror with a glass of wine, painting with his fingers. He was naked, the girl in the bed behind him still fast asleep. He took another sip, painting curve of her body as it peeked from the sheets. Hayley Marshall was an interesting woman, enough for a gorgeous piece of art. But Klaus would probably move on after this. The nature of his family and their trauma from being refugees of his father's rage meant they never stayed anywhere long. Or if they did they never seemed truly comfortable.
He stood, painting done and wandered over to where his clothes were, giving himself an appreciative once over in the mirror before getting dressed. Maybe one day, they'd cross paths again and go for another tumble. For now, he was ready to travel once more.
x
Morgan startled to find Rebekah placing a cloth over the unpainted body. Her cheeks were dusted pink as she looked away. "You uh...went somewhere and sculpted him. Sculpted his..."
Morgan blushed too, embarrassed all over again. "Well, now I can paint and then..." Her belly interrupted with a loud gurgle. She frowned. "We just ate."
"Well love, perhaps the memory diving is part of your magic. And your clan derives it from chemical energy commonly found in food. You probably need more. I'm heading down to the cafe in Mystic Falls to check up on the trial. I'll grab some coffee and a deli sandwich."
"Don't forget turnovers if they have them." Morgan was already mixing the paint and applying it to a palette and waving Rebekah off. Then she was alone with Klaus.
"Actually, if you add just a little more brown it'll give some color to that pasty white. I'm not a sheet of paper, love."
Morgan screamed, jumping up to clearly see for the first time her new friend. "Did you just talk?"
He blinked at her. "I have been. But I guess you can actually hear me now." He smiled at her. "Why don't you take a break?"
Morgan shook her head, turning back and painting. "It's not like I have to do fine details. Or any at all. Just your flesh and the lines making up your jaw. The rest will be filled out by your soul. Amazing how I...can sort feel my way through such a complicated magical art."
He drifted closer. "Can I ask you something now that we can hear each other, love?" Morgan just nodded, feeling how close she was. She was unwilling to stop. "Do you know how strong you are?"
She actually looked up at this, into the face of someone so widely considered evil in the supernatural community. There was concern there, and curiosity too. Morgan shrugged. "Not strong enough to do this on my own. Hopefully Rebekah remembers the turnovers. Going to need lots of sugar for this. Probably going to take an involuntary nap shortly after I weave you back in."
He was a quiet again and she got the impression he wasn't quite satisfied with that. He did move on, however. "Weave me back in?"
"Yes, well crafting a body is one part of it. It helps to have a sculptor's hands. But the tricky part is taking the threads of your soul that have been reaching out to me this whole time and weaving them into the strings I built in. Pulling you back in. Anchoring your soul as it once was in your true body." She stopped and texted Hope to make sure Rebekah had brought some clothes to fit Klaus. It wouldn't do for a grown adult to be wandering the Academy naked for a time. "That's the true art of this magic. Anyone can make a human shape out of a clay, but I think I'm probably the only one left who can reverse death entirely by doing that and stitching someone thread by life thread into the vessel."
She went back to her work, getting the details down and eating the food Rebekah brought back. She then move the clay body to the pallet on the floor, gently covering his lower half a bit better and placing the clothes Rebekah had also brought next to it. "Where is Hope?"
Rebekah looked surprised. "She is...unconscious. Apparently while your little friends were having their sports match something went wrong. They spent the day searching for one of the Mystic Falls girls. No one's sure where she is. Hope is exhausted."
Morgan hesitated a moment. "I'll channel you then, if you're ok with that. I believe you have enough combined with mine to do the job. Come. Before I lose whatever is pushing me along." She began to draw lines on the floor around Klaus' new body with her pocket sharpie until the spell circle was complete. Then she sat crossed legged and reached across the torso to take Rebekah's hand. "The words...just give me a moment." Then she began to speak the spell and it wasn't in Latin or French but Old Norse, a tongue far from her own. After a few repetitions, Rebekah joined in.
Morgan began weaving, tying Klaus to the shell that would become his own flesh and blood. Weakness lapped at the edges of her awareness, and she pushed on sensing how close she was to the end of this. To the start of freely practicing her craft. Then she dipped fully into Klaus, grabbing him with both hands and pulling, falling.