Bring Me To Life
Farewell to Storyville:
The soft tick tock of the antique grandfather clock in the corner of the attic of St Anne's church and the faint muffled chatter from the French Quarter street beneath the open window were the only sounds Davina Claire could hear from where she was sitting on the centre of the four-post bed to the side of the improvised bedroom.
Silence resonated throughout the attic, the heaviness settling on the shoulders of the young girl until it was a struggle for her to breathe without gasping for oxygen. One of her hands flew to her chest as she attempted to stop herself from hyperventilating, slowly inhaling and exhaling as she tried to even out her breathing. She could feel her lungs burning from lack of oxygen as she tears subconsciously sprung to her eyes and she squeezed them shut to stop herself from crying.
Memories of when she was little, lying alone in her darkened bedroom as the house grew suspiciously silent infiltrated her mind and she internally berated herself for not figuring what was going on right under her nose sooner than she had. She had been ten when she realised that the deadened silence was an indication of a privacy spell in effect and, being the curious child she was, she went in search of the reason someone was casting such a spell in the middle of the night. The hallway outside her bedroom door was pitch black but a sliver of light seeped out from under the partially closed door that led to her father's study, almost beckoning her forward as she tiptoed quietly down the corridor. She held her breath as she peeked through the small crack left open, her gaze immediately landing on her father's back and she frowned in confusion because she hadn't heard him come home that evening. Her lips pulled down at the corners in a frown when she saw someone's bare leg sprawled on the ground in front of her father and an almost inaudible horrified gasp escaped her when he stepped aside to reveal the familiar blue eyes of her older sister. Scarlet blood trickled from one side of her nose, coating her lips as she clutched her shoulder with one hand and the blood stood out against her pale skin as she looked up at their father with fear clear in her expression. Davina had never seen that type of horror on her sister's face before, the terror in Imogen's eyes was the most real thing she had ever seen. She watched with wide eyes as her father grasped Imogen's chin roughly in between his fingers, squeezing until the older girl cried out in pain and tears sprung to her eyes as she glared up at him with a burning hatred that was clear from across the room. The image of that slap still echoed through Davina's mind years later as she tried to fall asleep at night, the way her sister's formed a silent 'o' out of pain as her head snapped to the side and the blood that poured from her split lip as she collapsed onto the ground.
That night was the first time she experienced a panic attack. She had stumbled back to her bedroom as she gasped for breath, a sharp pinching on the left side of her chest but she didn't dare make a sound to alert anyone to her presence. She remembered lying alone in the dark as she struggled to breath, the minutes all running together in a blur of misery as she cried unabashed until she felt like she was about to blackout from lack of oxygen. One minute she was on the verge of passing out as she curled in on herself and the next Imogen was kneeling beside her prone body with a worried expression on her face, all of her wounds miraculously healed as though they'd never been there at all.
'Don't be afraid', Imogen's soothing voice rang through the young witch's mind as she brought her legs up to her chest in an effort to make herself as small as possible and she squeezed her eyes closed as she remembered her sister's previous instructions, 'Don't be afraid. It's just temporary. You've been through this before, you can do it again. Breathe. Don't forget to breathe. You can do this. In and out. Slowly. In and out. You got this, Pixie.'
Davina sighed in relief as the pressure on her chest released slightly when she followed her sister's advice, oxygen filling her lungs with an aching pleasure and she ran her shaking fingers through her limp brunette hair as she looked down at her lap with a frown on her lips.
"Hey, D, how you feelin'?" Marcel greeted the young witch solemnly as he walked into the attic bedroom with a duffel bag in his hands and Davina stared at the wall in front of her with vacant blue eyes as he wandered over to the table at the side of the room. "Got you some stuff- organic soap, and scented candles, some incense... Just trying to help you get back to feeling, you know, yourself."
The former king turned around to look at her in concern when she didn't make a sound in response and his lips turned down at the corners in a frown as he scrutinised her blanched complexion, the dark circles underneath her almost lifeless blue eyes. He hesitantly started walking towards the bed as though he was approaching a wounded animal and she stiffened at his approach but otherwise didn't react as he stopped a few feet from the bed. "Word on the street is the witches are celebrating. Three out of the four girls sacrificed in the Harvest have come back. First, it was your friend, Monique, and then another girl, now you. What I hear, the others are saying that the ancestors were with them while they were, uh, dead. You know, talking to them, teaching them. They say they're stronger than ever. Was it like that for you?"
Tears built in Davina's eyes as she listened to him speak, letting his compassionate voice sooth her frayed emotions and she shook her head slightly as she turned her head to look at the closest thing she had to a father. The determined glint in his dark brown eyes was familiar, it was the same look he got when she asked to use his credit card to buy art supplies online and she knew that he wasn't going to give up until she opened up a little bit. She took a deep breath in preparation as she meet his gaze evenly and she tried to keep her tears at bay as her voice cracked slightly with emotion when she admitted, "There was nothing. It was cold, empty, and dark. And it went on forever."
Marcel felt his heart ache painfully at the torment in her voice, the grief in her normally vibrant blue eyes as she stared up at him and it killed him that he wasn't able to protect her from going through that. He slowly approached the edge of the bed with a frown on his lips and he sat down next to her as he reached out with one hand to sooth her tangled brunette hair lovingly, "I'm sorry, D."
"I don't want to talk about it. Please, Marcel, don't make me."
"Hey, hey, no one's going to make you do anything, alright? Promise."
A strangled sob escaped Davina's lips as the tears building in her eyes overflowed, trickling down her cheeks unapologetically and Marcel immediately wrapped his arms around her shaking figure as he pulled her into lean her head on his muscular chest. Her fingers curled tightly in the material of his shirt as she buried her face in the crook of his neck and he closed his eyes momentarily as he gently rocked her back and forth, murmuring nonsense in her ear as he squeezed her tighter against his chest. He could feel her sobs vibrating through his body as he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and she burrowed herself deeper into his embrace, feeling safe for the first time since she woke up on the ancestral plane.
The faint sound of footsteps down below caught Marcel's attention as he lifted his head, his forehead furrowing at the prospect of a threat coming for Davina and he shifted her protectively in his arms as he narrowed his eyes in the direction of the attic door. His advanced hearing was able to detect the course of the person in the church below as they made their way towards the stairs leading to the attic bedroom. The scent of vanilla mixed with the familiar fragrance he associated with Imogen wafted through the room and he instantly relaxed with a sigh escaping him as the footsteps got closer to the open attic door.
Imogen paused in the doorway to the improvised bedroom, her breaths coming out in short pants as her gaze wildly swept over the room until landing on the large bed to the back of the room. Her blue eyes were ablaze with frantic apprehension as they locked on the familiar teenage girl clinging to Marcel as though she would float away if she unclenched her hands from his shirt for even a second. An audible exhale of relief escaped her as she stumbled backwards slightly, reaching one hand out to balance against the doorframe and she gingerly grazed her trembling lower lip with her fingertips as tears welled in her eyes.
"Hey, there's someone here to see you." Marcel whispered teasingly to the witch in his arms with a slight grin on his lips as he kept his eyes fastened on the other brunette in the doorway.
Davina's disheartened sobs quietened into soft sniffles as she slowly lifted her head from his chest, blushing furiously at the damp patch her tears left on the material of his shirt and she hurriedly brushed her cheeks with the back of her hand as she tried settle her unsteady breaths. The strong arm wrapped around her waist gave her comfortable, anchoring her to reality as she struggled to identify fact from fiction.
Marcel gently brushed a strand of unruly brunette hair away from her eyes, tucking it behind her ear as he watched her turned her head towards the doorway with an apprehensive expression marring her pretty features. He witnessed the second she comprehended who exactly was standing in the doorframe: her blue eyes widened fractionally in wonderment as her mouth parted without uttering a single sound and her lower lip started to tremble uncontrollably as her eyes welled with a fresh batch of tears.
Imogen gasped aloud in the nearly silent room as her blue eyed gaze collided with Davina's, their matching eyes clouded with such devotion and pain and longing and absolute adoration. Every ounce of tender aching that had resided in her chest since the night of her sister's death disappeared into oblivion the moment she saw Davina's tear drenched face.
A strangled whimper escaped Davina as she clamped her lips shut in an attempt to mute the unflattering noise and tears streamed unapologetically down her cheeks as she stared at her older sister with wide eyes.
The moment Imogen heard the almost inaudible distressed sob that arose from her sister's throat and saw the disconsolate expression that fell over her features, she was racing across the bedroom floor as fast as her merely human legs would carry her. Her knees hit the soft edge of the mattress, catapulting her forward onto the bed as her arms stretched out towards Davina, wrapping around the younger girl's shoulders as they both tumbled backwards in a tangled mess of limbs. It was almost too difficult to tell where one sister started and the other began as they clung to each other tightly as though they were the adhesive holding the other together.
"Oh, my God, I can breathe again." Imogen murmured almost too quietly to be heard over her sister's heart wrenching sobs but Marcel's enhanced vampire hearing caught the soft declaration as he watched the reuniting pair with a fond smile on his lips. His chest ached with a deep burning sensation, a feeling he'd thought buried long ago when he'd made the transition into a vampire and he ducked his head to hide the sudden sting of tears prickling his eyes, even though he knew the girls were too wrapped up in each other to notice.
Somehow, someway, the two witches beside him had become the most important people in the world to him and even if he could, he wouldn't want to change how entangled in them he'd become. The three of them were thrown together through circumstance, plunged headfirst into the hellfire that spread around them and they stayed together not out of obligation but out of totally unadulterated love.
Imogen exhaled softly in relief as she gently stroked her sister's brunette hair with tears burning in her eyes and she revelled in the familiar weight of Davina's head on her chest, the reassuring pressure that was a constant reminder of her presence. Younger girl curled into her side with her arms wrapped around her like she used to when she was little and would sneak into her room in the middle of the night after a nightmare, not wanting to be alone if the monsters came out to play.
Quiet whimpers arose from Davina as she slowly drifted off to sleep, content in the embrace of her older sister, her protector and under the watchful eye of the vampire who rescued her so many months ago, her saviour, her defender.
"Thank you." Imogen whispered brokenly as she locked gazes with the vampire sitting on the opposite side of the bed, her voice cracking over the word 'you' as she tried not to let the tears in her eyes fall.
The sincerity, the meaning in her voice nearly killed him as he meet her eyes with a solemn expression and he silently reached out to intertwined their fingers, setting their joined hands on the curved of Davina's waist. This was it. This was their family. The three of them. They didn't need words to express how they were feeling because they could read it in each other's eyes. Imogen was thankful he'd risked his life returning to New Orleans in order to resurrect Davina, Marcel was grateful that he'd been given a chance to have the familial connection he'd always wanted, and they were both indebted to the universe that they had Davina lying safely in their arms after missing her so fiercely.
"Is Rebekah in New Orleans?" Imogen asked quietly in an anxious tone of voice as she absently stoked her sister's hair, not wanting her to wake up but she knew that they needed to have this conversation.
"Yeah, she's stuck in Lafayette Cemetery with both Klaus and Elijah. I just talked to her on the phone before you got here." Marcel told her in a whisper with a haunted look in his eyes as he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand and he sighed heavily as he glanced away from her before meeting her gaze with a determined glint in his eyes. "I told her to stay as far away from him as she can. But Celeste trapped them in there 'til moonrise. I'm trying to find a loophole, get her out of there early."
"Then what happens? Klaus will come after you both."
"Then, we can all go together. If Klaus comes after us, we will take him on one hell of a ride."
"You want us to come with you?" she asked in a shocked voice as her eyebrows rose in surprise, her hand stilling momentarily in the middle of running her finger through her sister's hair.
"I promised to get you both out of here months ago. Let me fulfil that promise." He said in the most casual tone of voice he could muster under the circumstance but internally he was vibrating with nerves as his dark brown eyes pleaded with her to consider his proposition.
Sunlight filtered through the parted clouds in the sky overlooking Lafayette Cemetery, the beams spreading warmth in an otherwise dreary state of affairs. Elijah Mikaelson stood protectively besides his baby sister as kept a watchful eye on where his brother was perched onto a tomb and he stuffed his hands in his suit pants pockets, the perfect example of casual elegance amongst the derelict crypts surrounding them.
"Let it begin. The trial of Rebekah Mikaelson." Klaus declared loudly in a dramatic manner as he tightened his grip around the indestructible white oak stake in his grasp and Elijah had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at his younger brother's penchant for the melodramatic.
"What a relief. His ego is in check." Rebekah muttered sarcastically under her breath as she leaned towards him slightly with her hands in her jackets pockets and his lips twitched into a faint amused smirk at her words but he kept his gaze on his brother. He wasn't positive he would able to look in her direction without a renewed sense of betrayal overpowering his desire to save her life.
"Just speak your truth. I'll make certain he behaves himself." Elijah told her in a confident tone of voice as he removed his hands from his pockets and gracefully sat down on the concrete edge of the tomb, looking though he didn't have a care in the world when in reality it was crashing down around him.
Klaus narrowed his light blue eyes at the blonde standing in front of him, struggling to control the impulse to tear her throat out and he took Elijah's comment as his cue to begin the questioning, "You stand accused of betraying your own blood. How do you plead?"
"I plead you to shut up and listen." Rebekah snapped at him impatiently as she tilted her head to the side, knowing from past experience that his grandstanding could go on for a long while if she didn't nip it in the bud.
"You summoned our father. You brought him to our home. What possible defence could you have?" he asked her in a demand as his voice rose slightly with each word that came out of his mouth, his arms gesturing wildly subconsciously as his hand tightened around the stake in his hand until his knuckles turned white under the strain.
"I knew he was the only thing that you feared, and I wanted you to run."
"Because you hated me."
"Because you were hateful." She corrected pointedly as she glared at him heatedly, although deep down inside there was a small portion of herself did indeed hate him for all he had put her through over the years. For a thousand years she'd been tethered to her tyrant brother, unable to make her own decision or express her own opinions out of fear he would disagree. "You denied me the freedom to love."
"Oh, so that's your defence? You called Mikael- the Destroyer, the Hunter of Vampires- because I detained you from pursuing some dull suitors." He spat in disbelief as he leaned forward slightly to emphasis the ridiculousness of the statement, his light blue eyes blazing with incredulity as he stared at his younger sister.
"You were cruel, and controlling, and manipulative." She reminded him in a slightly softer tone of voice, allowing the cold mask she usually wore to fade momentarily so that he could see the truth and pain and betrayal behind her words.
"I was trying to protect you!" Klaus shouted in frustration as he threw his arms in the air, his voice cracking almost unnoticeably and Rebekah's expression contorted into one of sceptical disbelief as she cocked her head to the side. "From imbeciles, and leeches. Not to mention your own poor judgment."
"And what about the one that you loved enough to call friend? Why did you forbid me to love Marcel?" the blonde challenged him with resolve steeling her voice as she narrowed her cerulean blue eyes at him, broaching the controversial linchpin topic that had set everything in motion all those years ago.
"Do not mention his name." the hybrid ordered in a deadly voice as he suddenly launched to his feet with a thunderous expression, pointing an accusing finger in his sisters direction. The mention of his adopted son sent a flurry of emotions through him, a wave of unrecognisable feelings that he couldn't pinpoint the name of as he tried to hide the pain that etched onto his features.
"What has happened to you? I remember the sweet boy who made me laugh and gave me gifts, who loved art and music. I wanted to be just like you. How could you have fallen so far?" Rebekah asked him rhetorically in a saddened tone of voice as she looked up at him with wounded eyes, the deep rooted ache for the familial bond they once shared clearly on display.
The memory of Niklaus comforting her during a late night thunderstorm back when they were human flashed through her mind, the feeling of being terrified of the loud noises outside the cottage. Klaus crawled over to where she was trying to fall asleep with a concerned frown on his lips and he assured her in a soothing tone of voice, 'Hush now. It's just a storm. Don't be afraid. I won't let it hurt you.' All of the fear and dread disappeared in his presence, and instead a sense of calm replaced them as he captured her hand in his, offering her his strength in her moment of weakness. A wave of panic washed through her when he left her side but he was back momentarily with a small figurine hand carved out of wood and he placed it in her hand, curling her fingers around the figurine as he told her softly, 'I carved it for Father. It's a brave knight. Now you can be brave, too.' Rebekah believed him instantly as she looked down at the knight with pure adoration in her eyes, turning the small figurine over in her hand. She turned her cerulean blue eyes to her older brother as she asked him in a small voice if he would stay with her until the storm ended and he vowed in a firm voice, 'I will always stay with you, Rebekah. No matter what.'
"You say you despise Rebekah for her betrayal, and yet no one has stood by your side for so long, not even I myself. Perhaps it's you that's forgotten. I remember the day that Father caught you whittling little chess pieces with his hunting knife. He beat you so mercilessly and for so long, I actually feared for your life. Our sister stood in front of him with a sword in her hands, ready to face whatever consequences her actions brought." Elijah reminded him gently as he gracefully stood up from the edge of the pedestal and positioned himself besides his sister as he stuffed his hands in his suit pants pocket, silently signalling which side of the argument he was on.
"So, you would paint her as a loyal sister, but she betrayed me out of lust for Marcel. Perhaps that was why you did it- for love. Perhaps I might temper my rage if Rebekah will admit she was a victim of her own idiocy. That her great love, Marcel, used her to oust this family and to take my city." Klaus told them in an almost pleading tone as his voice rose with every word he spoke, his light blue gaze unable to rest on them for more than a second. He didn't want to be seen as weak, or vulnerable, not even in the eyes of his family and he was searching his mind for any perceivable reason his beloved sister would act with such treachery.
"Marcel did not manipulate me." Rebekah stated in a quiet voice as she shook her head sadly, hating the betrayal in his eyes but she knew that he needed to know the truth if he had any hope of understanding what happened.
"You defend him, and yet you can't help but wonder, what if I'm right?"
"We loved each other. It was your refusal to respect that that led to your ruin."
"Then why didn't he chase after you when you fled New Orleans? Oh, yes! That's right. He was here stealing what I built!" he shouted angrily as he stalked forward to the centre of the crypts roof, glaring at the blonde below him and Rebekah clenched her jaw so tightly that her teeth were grinding together as she shook her head in incredulous disbelief.
"You want me to renounce Marcel, to beg for your forgiveness? I won't. Marcel is not at fault." she said honestly in a hard voice as she narrowed her eyes at the hybrid and she took a deep breath to steel her nerves as she admitted in a strong tone, "I called Mikael."
"Rebekah, you must—" Elijah started to warn her when he saw the direction this conversation could take and he reached out to grab her arm but she moved out of his reach as he rolled his oak brown in exasperation.
"I was the one who brought him to New Orleans because of your wickedness!" she interrupted loudly as she stalked forward with an angered expression etched on her pretty face. "I wanted love and happiness, and you denied me the freedom to have either. Yes, I hated and I was afraid of our father, but he was a lesser evil than you. My bastard brother who loomed over me, threatening me as you are now." she spat at Niklaus as angry tears welled in her cerulean blue eyes, her breaths coming out in short pants and her lower lip quivered uncontrollably as she confessed in a quiet voice, "I wanted rid of you, and given the choice, I'd do it again!"
An enraged snarl ripped from Klaus' throat as his eyes flashed molten gold, his werewolf nature shining through and he launched himself off of the concrete crypt in the direction of his sister. Rebekah's eyes widened when she realised his intent but she wasn't fast enough to stop him from grabbed her upper arms and pushing her back against another tomb, one of his forearms pressed hard against her throat to keep her in place. Terror coursed through the blonde female as she watched her older brother raise the white oak stake and prepare to stab her in the heart but an outside force knocked him to the side before the wood could come into contact with her flesh.
Elijah tackled his younger brother away from Rebekah, causing them both to tumble on to the dirt covered ground and when they climbed to their feet on opposite ends of the pathway, Elijah was in possession of both Papa Tunde's blade and the white oak stake.
The weight of the weapons in his hands gave him a reassurance, a sense of comfort as he faced his younger brother and he flexed his fingers around the handles with a blank expression as he ordered in a stern voice, "Sister, leave us."
"I'm not going—"
"-I said, leave us, please." He interrupted Rebekah's weak protest in a slightly raised voice as he twisted his head towards her and he watched her disappear behind one of the mausoleums before turning his attention back to his brother, rising both of his arms out to the side as he spoke firmly, "You wouldn't listen to her. So, now, you must deal with me."
"Somewhere, over the rainbow, skies are blue. And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true." Imogen sang under her breath with her eyes closed as she ran her fingers through Davina's silky brunette hair, enjoying the familiar pressure of her sisters head on her stomach. It had been so long since they had just lay together, basking in each other's presence and she was content to hum the rest of Davina's favourite lullaby while they relaxed for the first time in months.
"I remember you singing this song to me." Davina whispered in a wistful tone of voice, a small smile on her lips as she listened to the rhythmic beating of her sister's heart.
"When you had chicken pox, and you were up all night crying because I wouldn't let you scratch, it was the only thing that would lull you to sleep." the older sister recollected with a smirk playing on the edge of her lips as her fingertips ghosted across Davina's cheek and she chuckled slightly in remembrance as she shook her head fondly, "You would cry and weep and whine until we curled up, just like this, and I sang Somewhere Over the Rainbow while you fell asleep in my arms."
The younger brunette hummed contently in acknowledgement as she drew imaginary shapes on her sister hand, searing her skin while imprinting the outline of a heart and Imogen leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of her head as she soothed her hair back out of her face.
Sister's function like a safety net in a chaotic world simply by being there for each other, and Imogen knew that the bond she shared with Davina was stronger than anything that would try to break them. As an older sibling her main job was to encourage her baby sister in everything she did, to support her decisions even when she didn't agree with them and to comfort her when the world decided to test the inner strength Imogen knew was buried deep within Davina.
There was a newly developed fragility to the younger witch's demeanour after spending so much time at the mercy of the ancestors, a vulnerability that hadn't been present before her death and resurrection. Before there had been an innocence in her blue eyes, a light that Imogen had fought hard to preserve but now they were dull and enervated from the torment she had experienced. There were cracks in her foundation, deep fractures that might never fully restored to their once flawless state.
It was clear that Davina was broken. Imogen knew there was something different about her sister the moment she saw her tangled in Marcel's arms. She saw the haunted look in her blue eyes, a shattered glint that she knew was mirrored in her own identical orbs. There were wounds that never showed on your body, that ran deeper and more hurtful than anything that bled.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Imogen asked in a whisper as she fought to keep her voice even, knowing from experience that if she sounded condescending or pitying her sister would shut down completely. She didn't want to pressure Davina into talking about what happened to her if she wasn't ready but she needed her to know that she was there whenever she was ready, if she was ever ready.
Davina took a shuddering deep breath as her eyelids fluttered closed at the reminder of what she'd been through and she buried her face in her sister's stomach as she tightened her arms around her body. For a second there she had completely forgotten the hell she had gone through, for a second it was buried so far down that she could remember what it felt like to be whole. Part of her wanted more than anything to unload all of her feeling onto her sister but after everything that Imogen had done for her in the course of her life, she didn't want to be any more of a burden. Another part of her knew that Imogen deserved to know what had occurred, she had mourned her death for months with no guarantee that she could be brought back to life.
Tears welled in the young brunette's eyes as she turned her head to face the door to the attic so that she didn't have to see Imogen's reaction and her lower lip quivered as she tightened her hold on the material of her sister's shirt, "I died. And at first, I was alone, but then I heard them. Voices, whispering to me."
"Who?"
"The ancestors. They're so angry with me. I used my power against my own, and they said they'd do horrible things to me if I misuse my magic again."
Davina's voice cracked over the words 'horrible things' as her eyes moved around the room, never settling on one thing for longer than a moment and her fingers kept flexing restlessly as though she was itching to release the built up magic running through her veins. An aggravated groan escaped her lips as she pulled herself out of her sister's embrace, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and standing up from the comfortable mattress as she ignored the concerned glint in her sister's eyes.
Imogen swung her legs over the edge of the bed, watching her sister's profile illuminate in the moonlight shining through the window and she knew from experience exactly what that hard glint in Davina's eyes was without a second thought: it was guilt. Whatever the ancestors had done to the younger girl, they had emotionally manipulated her into feeling that she was to blame for the torture she was forced to endure.
An anger pulsed through her veins, a rage so pure in its nature that it felt almost intoxicating and she shot up from the edge of the bed as she narrowed her blue eyes in her sister's direction, "I've studied the effects of trauma and abuse. The witches that forced you into that ritual, they've lied to you. They hurt you."
"Imogen, there's nothing you've studied in some book that can help me." Davina stated dejectedly with a tired sigh escaping her lips as she folded her arms loosely over her stomach, shaking her head slightly in hopelessly as she stared out onto the abandoned street below.
The despair in her voice, the total acceptance that this was her life now, that the void in her consciousness was permanent caused a painful ache in Imogen's chest. She couldn't help but make the comparison in her mind of the once perpetual joyful lilt in Davina's voice compared to the empty dullness that was plaguing her tone since she'd returned.
"Okay, forget the books. Let me tell you what I know from experience." The older brunette began in an unwavering voice as she straightened her spine with a determination in her eyes she hoped would mask the uncertainty afflicting her mind.
Davina felt her eyes widen slightly in surprise at the cavalier mention of the abuse Imogen had suffered in the past and she slowly turned around to face her older sister, eager to hear any information that Imogen would disclose. It was a sort of 'unwritten rule' between the two of them that they'd both pretend that Davina didn't know what had transpired under their own roof, and it was true to an extent that Davina didn't know the magnitude of the cruelty Imogen had been experienced.
Imogen took a deep breath as she folded her arms over her stomach, a subconscious defence mechanism ingrained in her mind from years of trying to protect her vital organs from hard blows. All she'd ever wanted was to protect Davina from the harsh reality of the world, and she had failed in regards to the supernatural, she had failed when Davina was forced to witness her friends slaughtered in front of her eyes, she had failed when she'd murdered their mother in front of Davina, she had failed to save Davina's life when it really mattered. She had failed in the most phenomenal way possible, and here she was about to ruin the last of Davina's perception of their father. She just hoped that learning the truth wouldn't taint the younger girl's view of the male species….or change her opinion of Imogen.
"When dad started…when dad started beating me, I never thought I'd be okay again. I knew that I'd be fine physically. I knew that the wounds would stop bleeding, that my bones would heal. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew. I knew that mentally I was damaged beyond repair. I cried myself to sleep some nights. I blamed myself. I blamed mum for letting him, and then I realized all that... sadness was swallowing me up. And I made a choice. I wasn't going to let it. You can make that choice, Davina."
"You say that like it's so simple, but the witches aren't just gonna let me go. They're not done with me." the younger girl insisted in a feebly but there was an undercurrent of certainty and fear laced through her voice as her lower lip trembled with her effort not to cry in front of her older sister. She wanted to appear stronger than she felt, she wanted Imogen to be proud of her and how she handled what was happening to her. She didn't want to be a disappointment to the one person whom she loved more than anything.
"No one can control you unless you let them." Imogen declared firmly with her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her perfectly manicured nails digging into her palms hard enough to leave marks.
"How do I even know who to trust? Should I trust Marcel? The first thing he did when I came back was try to use me again to help Rebekah. Be honest, Imogen. Isn't there always someone who wants something?"
"That's not why I'm here. I love you. I want to help you."
"What can you do?" Davina asked in a frustrated tone as her voice raised slightly, her arms flinging out to her sides as she stared at her sister with wide eyes and she blinked away with unshed tears that threatened to fall as she pursed her lips together in an effort to stop from crying. "When I came back, the voices I heard, they said the only ones who could help me are the witches. But, after what I did to them, they hate me. So, how can I go back and ask for their help now?"
"Pixie…" the older Claire sister whispered soothingly in a compassionate manner as she slowly approached the broken girl in front of her and she forced a carefree smile on her lips as she ran her hands down her sisters arms. Davina looked up at her sister through glassy eyes, an obvious confusion displayed across her features when she saw the resolution embedded in blue eyes so much like her own.
Imogen threaded the fingers of both her hands through her sisters before raising them up to press a kiss to each of her knuckles and held them at her chest as she spoke in a decisive manner, "I'm going to do everything in my power to keep you safe. I promise you that."
Silence shrouded the attic bedroom, enveloping the two brunette witches that occupied the spacious room and the moonlight shone through the glass of the window, illuminating the solemn facial features of Imogen Claire as she watched the rhythmic up and down of her sleeping younger sister's chest from her position on the bay window. A pensive frown marred the witch's lips as she brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and she nibbled on her lower lip as she tapped her fingers nervously against her shin.
It had taken nearly a full hour to convince Davina that she should try to get some rest and another forty minutes to finally lull the stubborn teenage to sleep. Imogen had laid down next to her, arms wrapped around the girl's slender shoulders as she whispered soothing words of encouragement until Davina had eventually faded into a peaceful state of slumber. Every now and then she would toss restlessly in her in sleep, her face scrunched up as a distressed whimper escaped her but otherwise she rested for the first time since her resurrection.
Guilt weighed heavily on Imogen's shoulders as she watched her sister for any sign of torment, knowing that the subconscious mind could expose itself though a state of dreaming and she knew from experience how terrifying it was to wake up from such a nightmare. The worse part was that Imogen knew it was her fault. It was her recklessness that allowed Davina to be used in the Harvest ritual, it was her naivety that got them to play a role in the royal courts of the French Quarter, it was her failure to protect Davina from death that led to the torture she'd endured at the hands of the ancestors. She didn't understand how Davina could stand to look her in the eye after what she'd done, but Imogen was selfish enough to ignore the shame coursing through her veins in order to take advantage of the limited time until Davina realised whom was to blame.
Imogen's head snapped around in surprise when the door to the attic squeaked as someone slowly pushed it open and she breathed out in relief when she saw Marcel peek his head around, checking on the occupants with a worried frown on his lips. A brief smile flittered across his lips when his dark brown eyes landed on the figure in the bed but it faded into a concerned frown when he looked over at the older witch sitting by the window. He gestured with his head for her to join him out in the hallway as she stood up and quietly made her way out of the room, knowing he wanted to talk without the risk of waking the finally sleeping teenage girl they both loved unconditionally.
The door closed gently behind them as Imogen leaned against the doorframe, wanting to be close in case Davina woke up in a panic and she needed to comfort the younger girl. She felt herself relax slightly against the wall, some of her stress dissolving in the presence of the dark skinned vampire and she ran a hand through her hair as she blew out a slow breath.
"How is she?" Marcel asked in a whisper as he crossed his arms over his chest with a frown, gesturing with his head towards the closed bedroom door to indicate who he was speaking about.
An anguished noise escaped Imogen's lips as she wrapped an arm around her stomach, her lips downturned at the corners and she lulled her head back against the wall as she met his gaze evenly with a blank expression. "Depressed. She needs real help. Maybe a stay in an institution where she can get round-the-clock care and medication."
"No, no, no. She stays in a place like that, she is never getting out." he prohibited immediately with a firm shake of his head, his jaw clenching in anger as he turned his attention away from her gaze.
"I'm not talking about locking her in Dowager Fauline Cottage!" she countered in an offended tone of voice as she straightened up from her slouched position, a hardened glare directed straight at the man in front of her. "I'm talking about getting her some help. You have a better idea?"
Their eyes locked in an intense battle of wills, neither one of them wanting to back down when they thought they were in the right in regards to Davina's mental state. They both wanted to help, but neither of them knew how. It was one of the hardest things of a parent to go through: not knowing how to help their child when in they were in pain.
Marcel sighed in defeat as he broke eye contact with the stubborn witch and he rubbed his hand over his mouth as he turned his head back to offer her a solemn look. "We could take her back to her people."
"What?" she asked sharply as her head snapped around to look at him in shock that he would even suggest that and he held up his hands in surrender as he took a small step forward with placating expression. "We have to talk about this. I can't just give up on her. We can't give up on her. She needs us. Now more than ever."
"There are bigger things going on here, Imogen. It's the only chance that she has." Marcel said in a soft tone as he rested his hands on her upper arms, ducking his head to meet her gaze and she looked away from him with tears in her eyes as her eyebrows furrowed in anguish. He hated the helpless expression that was plastered on her face, the vulnerable glint in her eyes and he told himself that he would do anything to see a genuine smile on her lips.
"I thought you wanted to get out of town. You wanted to escape from Klaus, what's changed?" Imogen asked him suspiciously with her eyes narrowed as she studied his expression, the tired glint in his dark brown eyes. The exhaustion was something she could empathise with, the last few weeks had left them both emotionally drained and no amount of sleep would cure the fatigue she felt over the situation.
Marcel ran a hand over his head in frustration, overwhelmed by the circumstances of which Davina was brought back to them and he knew that he needed to be honest with the witch in front of him. He released a breath as he met her inquisitive eyes with an apologetic look and she inhaled a sharp breath in preparation for what could only be bad news. He felt the familiar sensation of guilt building in his chest as he watched her expressive blue eyes swirl of emotion and he stole a glance towards the closed bedroom door before he turned back to Imogen as he kept his voice low, "Genevieve told me it's my fault she suffered in death. She was shunned by the ancestors because of her alliance with me, but all that's over. Now, they can welcome her home. She will be revered by her people, and they'll will teach her how to control her power. Give her a home where she's safe, not surrounded by vampires. The witches will accept her back, but there are conditions."
"What conditions?"
"We don't have any more contact with her. We let her go."
"What? No!" the witch protested vehemently in an aghast tone of voice, her blue eyes wide with fear and her lips forming a perfect 'o' out of shock at such a request.
"Imogen…" Marcel whispered her name compassionately as he gave her a knowing look, a look that told her everything she needed to know and she understood, she did, but that didn't make it any easier to accept. "She needs them. She needs them more than she needs us at the moment. We can't do anything for her. Not on our own. But we can do this. We can let her go, let her get better. This is what she needs."
A crossroads appeared in front of Imogen in that moment, a moment of choice that could end up defining the rest of her life and she had absolutely no idea what the right decision was. A part of her wanted to be selfish, to grab Davina and drive out of the city until they hit a small, quiet town that would never house a member of the supernatural. They could start a life away from everyone and everything. Davina would finish high school, make friends, take an art class, go on dates, choose a prom dress and stress over college acceptance letters like everyone else her age. Imogen would finish getting her doctorate in psychology, work hard to help people, and maybe eventually open a foundation for abused children, runaways and others who were struggling. But that all sounded like a fantasy, an unreachable dream.
Reality wasn't that simple, or that kind, and Imogen wanted what was best for her sister even if it wasn't what she wanted to for them. Davina needed the witches if she wanted to get better, if she wanted to get control of her powers and Imogen wasn't known for being selfish when it came to her sister's health, happiness or harmony.
"It's not fair." Imogen stated softly in a mournful tone as a lone teardrop ran down her cheek, a defeated but accepting expression plastered on her face and Marcel blinked back his own tears with a clenched jaw as he nodded in understanding. He wrapped an arm around her waist as he brought her into an embrace, holding the back of her head and she buried her face in the crook of his neck as she allowed herself to let herself to break down in the safety of his arms.
Up and down. Up and down. Up and down.
Imogen intently wanted the rhythmic rise and fall of Davina's chest as she slept on the bed in the middle of the room and she couldn't help but the wistful smile that spread across her lips at the sight of her sister's peaceful expression. It was a sight that she had missed desperately the last few months, a simple pleasure she didn't even know she had until it was ripped away from her and she wanted to imprint the image into her mind in case it was something she never saw again after that night.
The room was silent other the faint sound of jazz music playing down the street from the church as the oldest sister sat down on the edge of the bed and contented herself with watching Davina sleep while Marcel had elected himself to go speak to the witches on their behalf. Imogen was grateful that he had given them the time to themselves before they'd have to separate but another part of her was irritated that she would have to inform Davina of their solution on her own. Regardless of the fact that the idea had formed from her own flippant comment, Imogen was aware that Davina was going to protest the plan the moment it was mentioned and she had to tell herself it was for the best, that she was doing with Davina's best interest in mind. This wasn't a time to be selfish, or reckless, this was about her little sister's mental health and it wasn't something that should be treated frivolously.
Silent tears rolled down Imogen's cheeks as she gingerly brushed a strand over brunette hair off of Davina's forehead, her fingertips grazing the younger girls' skin in an effort not to wake her before it became necessary. Letting go of Davina was going to be one of the hardest things she ever had to do, but she told herself it was for the best, she told herself that she could live knowing that her sister was happy and healthy and alive.
"Immy?" Davina's sleep coated voice whispered into the darkened room, knocking the older witch out of her reverie and she snapped her gaze to meet her sister's half-lidded eyes with a forced smile on her lips. She had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed the change in her sisters breathing and she tucked a strand of fallen hair behind her ear as she watched Davina frown sleepily in concern. "Why are you crying? Is everything okay?"
Imogen hastily brushed her hand over her cheek as she let out a breathy laugh because she truly didn't know how to answer that question, she didn't want to lie to her sister but she wasn't emotionally prepared to answer honestly. She took a steadying breath as she reached out to rest a hand on Davina's sheet covered hip and the younger girl narrowed her eyes in suspicion as she pushed herself up on her elbows with a deep frown.
"Actually, Pix, we need to talk about something." Imogen admitted gently as a fresh wave of tears built in her eyes against her wishes and Davina nodded slightly for her to continue as she sat upright in the bed while rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands. "Marcel and I – we found a solution to your problem. We found a way to get you back to the witches."
"You did? Really?" she asked in a shocked voice as she leaned forward slightly in anticipation with wide blue eyes and the excitement mixed with disbelief was evident in her voice, in her eyes. For the first time since Marcel had suggested sending her back to the coven, Imogen felt good about her decision, like maybe it was the right choice.
"Yeah, baby, we did." She confirmed softly with a small quirk of her lips as she ran her hand over Davina's leg soothingly and the brilliant grin that spread across her sister's face sent a warmth straight through her veins. That affection was soon replaced by a wave of dread as she remembered what else she had to tell the teenager. "They will welcome you home. You will be revered by our people, and they'll will teach you how to control your power. Give you a home where you're safe. But there was one deciding factor that they wouldn't budge on. It was the only way they'd agree to accept you back."
"Okay? What is it?"
"They want – they don't want…Oh, God, this is hard."
"Imogen, you're scaring me. Just tell me." Davina pleaded softly as she reached out to capture her older sister's hand between both of hers with wide blue eyes and Imogen couldn't help but notice how innocent she looked in that moment, how she was going to destroy that innocence in a matter of seconds.
The oldest Claire sister gritted her teeth as she turned her head away from the eyes that could force her to do their bidding without uttering a word, it was something that Davina used to her advantage more times than either of them could count. When she was eight years she used those giant puppy dog eyes to swindle a bathtub full of chocolate milk, a big mistake if there ever was one because more of the chocolate milk ended up drenching Imogen and she smelt like a dessert for over a week after the incident.
A gentle squeeze of her hand brought her back into the moment as she snapped her head around to meet Davina's curious but concerned gaze and she exhaled slowly with a shaky forced smile before speaking in a strained voice, "They don't want you to have any contact with either Marcel or me."
"What!? No!"
"Davina, - "
"No! No!" she repeated firmly as she scooted back out of reach when Imogen went to touch her hand, her expression hardened with resolve as she shook her head rapidly in protest. "I won't do it. No!"
"Davina, it's already been decided. This is what's happening." Imogen informed her in a strong voice as she placed a hand on the younger girl's thigh to stop her from moving away, levelling her with the same no nonsense expression she used to get Davina to go to bed when she had stayed up too late.
A whimper escaped the younger witch as she reached up to cover her mouth with her hand, trying to block out the sound and she blinked away the tears that sprung to her eyes as she shook her head in denial. She couldn't believe she had actually heard the words that came out of her sister's mouth and the disbelief was evident on her expression as she tried to stop herself from crying at the determination in Imogen's eyes. She had seen that look in her big sister's eyes many times in the past, it was usually accompanied by Imogen refusing to budge on a subject regardless of how much pleading she heard from the younger girl. It was the same look that told Davina she wasn't going to win, no matter how much she begged and fought and tried to bribe to get her way.
It was that resolved glint in Imogen's blue eyes that caused Davina to make a vague noise of protest in the back of her throat as she jerkily nodded her head in acceptance and her shoulders slumped as all the fight was drained from her body.
"Come on, baby, I know you don't want to hear this, but it's for the best. It is. I know I'm not going to be there to help you through this, so I'm going to give you some advice. Okay?" Imogen said softly as she tucked a leg underneath herself with a gentle smile and she reached over to grasp both of Davina's hands tightly within hers because she knew they didn't have a lot of time left before Marcel got back to take the younger girl to the coven. Davina sniffled slightly as she nodded reluctantly with tears streaming down her cheeks and Imogen sighed heavily as she carefully thought over her words before meeting her sister's gaze with an open expression, "I know what you've been, and it's a tragedy. But you what? Tragedies happen. What are you going to do? Give up? Quit? No. When your heart breaks, you gotta fight like hell to make you're still alive. Because you are. You're alive, and that pain feel? It's life. That confusion and fear, that's there to remind you that somewhere out is something better. And that's something worth fighting for. Life kicks you around sometimes. It scares you and it beats you up. But there's one day you realise you're not just a survivor, you're a fighter. You're tougher than anything life throws your way."
"I'm not like you. I'm not tough." Davina muttered through her tears as she shook her head profusely, her lower lip trembling as she refused to look into her sister's understanding eyes. "I'm broken."
"You're human." The older girl corrected firmly as she ducked her head to the side in order to catch her sister's gaze and she held the eye contact with a stern expression as her lips quirked up at the corners, "And to be human, is to be broken. And broken is its own kind of beautiful."
The pure, unadulterated honesty in her words rang throughout the bedroom, pouring over Davina like a light rain and leaving her no choice but to accept the fact that she was getting drenched in the downpour. It was hard to refute such a claim when it was evident that Imogen believed every word, every syllable that she spoke and Davina had learned from experience that she could believe in whatever Imogen believed because it generally had a way of becoming true.
Imogen cupped her sisters face in between her hands as she used her thumbs to brush away the tears streaming down her cheeks and she offered the younger girl a reassuring smile as she nodded once in determination, more sure than ever that it was the best course of action. "Come on, Pixie, you know I hate seeing you cry. It isn't forever, okay? I'll find a way to keep in contact with you."
"I'm gonna miss you." Davina murmured in a whisper, sounding very much like the teenage girl she was and she stifled a whimper as she threw herself into her sister's arms causing them to topple backwards with the sudden force.
A startled laugh escaped Imogen as she instantly wrapped her arms around her sisters' lithe body in return, not minding the weight on top of her in the least. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she basked in the feeling of complete and total affection, the feeling of completeness that she felt whenever she held her little sister in her arms.
It reminded her of how lucky she was to have someone in her life that made saying goodbye so hard.
The faded scent of smoke lingered in the burnt out shell of the old plantation house, the charcoaled remains barely left standing after the inferno and Rebekah had to scrunch her nose at the smell as she continued to collect the meagre amount of possessions still viable for use. A heavy sigh escaped the lips of the blonde Original as she stood up straight from her bent position and looked around at what used to be the parlour of the one place her family had ever called 'home'. She ran a finger across the blackened keys of the piano with a frown on her lips and she looked down at the ash that now coated her skin.
The sound of footsteps approaching, crunching on the debris on the ground alerted her to the fact someone had tracked her down and she fine-tuned her heightened hearing as she turned around to face the intruder with a raised eyebrow.
"I thought I might find you here." the melodic voice of her older brother echoed through the house as he appeared from around the corner of one half deconstructed pillars and she smiled at the sight of a neatly put together Elijah standing perfectly at ease in the charred remains surrounding them.
"I just came to collect the last of my things that didn't burn to ash." Rebekah explained in a slightly amused voice as she rung her hands in front of her and she took a step closer to him as she tilted her head to the side before asking innocently, "I'll be leaving shortly. I don't suppose you have any desire to join me."
There was a brief silence where Elijah was generally tempted to accept his little sister offer, to escape the mayhem of the French Quarter, to live without the politics and threats against his family, but the thought was fleeting. There were too many things in the city that needed his focused attention, too many people counting on him too succeed where others could not and even though a part of him wanted to run away from that responsibility, from that pressure, another part actually liked feeling needed.
A flash of stunning warm blue eyes accompanied with brunette hair and the radiant grin he had been lucky enough to be on the receiving end over crossed his mind for a split second but he internally scolded himself for the thought. He knew that he couldn't base such an important decision on his non-existent relationship with Imogen but for the first time he wanted to do something impulsive, something irresponsible.
"I do hope you find everything you're looking for." He told his little sister honestly with an awkward smile on his lips as he shifted uncomfortably on his feet, unable to meet her eyes in fear that she would read the truth in their depths.
The sympathetic but pleased smile that spread across her lips indicated that Rebekah was able to tell the exact reason behind his desire to stay in New Orleans and she nodded in understanding as she crossed her arms over her stomach subconsciously.
A frown spread across her lips as she glanced down at the ground in shame before releasing a sigh and lifting her head to meet her brother's eyes across the room as she declared in a soft voice, "Elijah, when I brought Mikael, I never for a second meant to hurt you."
"I know." he assured her genuinely with a small upturn of his lips as he touched his chest over his heart and she returned the smile briefly before fading into a disbelieving frown as she gazed off at something over his shoulder.
"I was certain that Klaus meant to kill me. Whether he never really did at all, or he changed his mind... Maybe somewhere, deep down, he still is the brother we once knew."
"Very deep, but he's still in there."
Rebekah nodded vaguely in agreement, an amused smile on her lips as she slowly strolled towards him and he watched her movements with a quirked eyebrow until she came to a stop in front of him. She leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek as she realised that this might be the last time she saw time in a long time and tears sprung into her eyes as she pulled back to look at him with pure affection in her gaze. She had spent so much of the last 1000 years surrounded by her family, they had always been her safety net in a world of madness and it was startling to come to the realisation that she was truly free and on her own now. No matter how crazy they drove her, they were her family and she loved them all to the depths of her heart.
"Help him find his way." Rebekah pleaded quietly as she rested a hand on Elijah's arm, her cerulean blue eyes begging him to succeed in ways she couldn't vocalise and he nodded solemnly in understanding as he placed his hand over hers that still rested on his arm. Elijah squeezed her hand briefly before letting go, letting her go and she grinned slightly as she started walking out of the room with the duffel bag of her uncharred property.
"Elijah…" she began in a wary tone of voice as she turned back around to face him with a vulnerable expression and he twisted around to look at her with an eyebrow raised in question, urging her to continue, "I may be the girl who loved too easily, but you are the man who does not believe he deserves it. You do, Elijah. You deserve love and happiness. You dedicate yourself to everyone but yourself. We are the strongest creatures in the world, and yet, we are damaged nearly beyond repair. Take a chance on love, Elijah. Take a chance on happiness. You deserve it."
Silence fell over the burnt out remains of the plantation house as the oldest Mikaelson watched his baby sister stroll off into the proverbial sunset while he contemplated the sage words of wisdom she had imparted before her departure.