Disclaimer: I still don't own Saving Hope or Originals, otherwise I wouldn't have had to cry when (spoiler alert) Klaus and Elijah died, because they both would have lived for at least another million years happily ever after with Elena and Caroline and their family would be peaceful and happy.

Chapter 5

Vincent got to the address listed and got it, undoing Luke's seatbelt before letting him out. Luke ran ahead of him, causing him to sign and followed, quickly catching up and started knocking on the door, which swung open. The feeling that something was very very wrong once again rose as he pushed the door open properly, keeping Luke behind him even as he attempted to push passed him to find his dad.

Who was lying unconscious on the floor.

Yeah, definitely a good idea to keep Luke behind him.

"Stay out here," he told him as he cautiously entered the house. He insult down next to the unconscious man and started checking on his vitals before casting a diagnostic spell, as Luke came and sat next to him.

"Why is daddy not waking up?"

"I'll tell you later if you go sit down on the couch." Luke gave him a look that clearly asked if he thought he was stupid, but got to his feet and moved away. Looking over the results, her felt like swearing, the only reason he didn't being in the next room over. The mental damage was extreme and would have caused a hell of a lot of pain for at least a few hours, and would definitely explain why he was unconscious, and why his vitals had slowed so drastically. Whatever those witches had given him, he was dying. And as much as he didn't like Mikaelsons – which he clearly was, even if he wasn't one of the siblings – he hadn't done anything wrong, and neither had the kid he would be leaving alone if Vincent let him die. Which he wasn't going to.

"Luke," he called. The boy appeared in the doorway, worried look on his young face. "Do you know if your dad keeps lavender oil, rosemary and Valerian root?" Luke nodded.

"They're in the herb cabinet, on the top shelf."

"Stay here."

Luke gave him a weird look as he got to his feet, closing his eyes and holding out his hands. Noises came from behind him in what he assumed was the kitchen and he turned, before his eyes widened and he ducked to avoid the objects flying at his head. He followed their progress as they landed in a neat line between Luke and his father. Luke opened his eyes and smiled before looking at Vincent.

"What…"

"Daddy tells me that if something's too high or I can't find it, to hold out my hands and picture it coming to me. But if I use it to get to the cookies without being told to, or I don't get dessert when he buys one."

"Right… we'll get back to that. How old her you anyway?"

"I turned five a few days ago." Vincent looked at him then shook his head, muttering something about Mikael, whoever that was, and witches that Luke didn't quite catch before mixing three herbs and the oil and muttering a spell under his breath. After a few minutes, the mixture started smoking and Vincent dipped tell fingers into the paste and started making a symbol on his forehead for healing, still changing the whole time and for another 5 minutes he continues. Luke eventually fell asleep curled against his father's side and Vincent sat back with a sigh as the spell was complete. Now he just had to wait.

And maybe move them to a bed.

-TO/SH-

Joel woke with a groan and a massive headache. A warmth to his left had him turning to see Luke curled up asleep next to him, tiny hand clinging to his shirt. He laid his hand on his son's head and let his head thump back onto the bed, trying to remember what happened. Then he frowned slightly. Was there someone downstairs?

Joel unclenched Luke's fist from his shirt and pulled the cover on top of him before going downstairs into the kitchen to see who he thought might be Vincent Griffith looking into his fridge.

"What are you doing?"

Vincent jumped in shock and spun around to face him.

"I'm looking for orange juice."

"Right… why are you looking for orange juice? In my fridge?"

Vincent shrugged. "It wasn't anywhere else." Joel rolled his eyes.

"Why aren't you in whatever lair you live in?" Vincent snorted.

"Because I don't live in a lair." Vincent sighed and walked over to the table add he saw Joel's unimpressed look, gesturing for him to join him, which he did so with a suspicious look on his face and a carton of orange juice. "Where the hell was that?!"

"The one place you didn't look," he answered. "The drinks cabinet." Vincent face palmed as he heard that. Not even realizing he would have a drinks cabinet – so obvious now that he thought about it – he hasn't even thought to check one of the lower cabinets the other man must have pulled it and the two glasses out from. Joel laughed at the action and poured the orange into the glasses, pushing one closer to the other witch.

"Four children have come missing recently," Vincent said after taking a sip of his orange juice.

"Do we need something stronger than juice for this?" Vincent scoffed. "Wish I could, but I gotta be sober for however long it takes to deal with this, and if I start drinking now, I ain't gonna stop." Joel shrugged and waved for him to continue. "Marcel and I, we got to tracking them down. When we got there," he hesitated slightly before continuing. "There were five kids, not four." Joel went slightly pale and his head started to ache as he remembered.

"Luke. They came for Luke. I tried to stop them and they injected me with something. I don't remember anything after that."

"I didn't expect you to, man. Whatever it was that injected you with, it messed with your head. Your mind was fractured more than I'd ever seen. I managed to fix it, but I wouldn't be surprised if there was still damage." Vincent had watched his expressions as he told him what had been done to him. He had gone still, not even blinking, barely breathing. "You OK, man?"

"Thank you for saving Luke. You can leave when you've finished your juice." Joel got to his feet, ignoring the confused and surprised look on Vincent's face.

"What?"

"You should go. I have something I needed to do." He left the room, trusting Vincent could find the door on his own.

Joel went into the living room and leaned against the windowsill. He looked out into the back garden and closed his eyes, reaching out with his mind to touch those in the quarter. He's barely gone more than three miles before there was a splitting pain in his head and he gasped as his mind snapped back, falling backwards and being caught and lowered into a chair by Vincent, who clearly hadn't left yet. Vincent crouched down in front of him with a hand on his shoulder, looking worried.

"Deep breaths, deep breaths. You OK man?"

"They destroyed it," he gasped out. "I can't feel them further than three miles. I can't – this isn't…" he ran a shaking hand over his face and through his hair, then looked at it. His hands were shaking. His hands didn't even shake when performing a surgery on a guy with a mortar shell lodged in his pelvic bone in a tent in the middle of a military base. And they're shaking now. Part of him thought of how Alex would have taken his hands in hers if she had been here and she would have said something funny and they would have laughed, and all would have been fine. He would have been fine if she was still by his side. His rock. The love of his life.

He looked at Vincent and calmed enough to shrug his hand off and point him to a chair.

"If you're staying, you might want to sit down." Vincent have him a cautious look, before glancing down at his watch.

"Actually I have to go. I'm meeting someone in 10 minutes. Want me to come back later?"

"Why the sudden concern?" Joel asked. "For the past 5 years, you haven't even bothered to get my name right, now you're all worried. Why?" Vincent shrugged.

"Something's coming. Something big and it might be my fault. And we're gonna need all the help we can get." Joel watched as Vincent turned and left, before standing and going over to the bookshelf to get a grimoire. He needed to fix the left over damage in his mind, and every healing potion in this book may not be enough, but with practice as well, it will be enough to protect his son. It had to be