Kol and Holly Apparated to Denver in a flash of disorienting speed and shimmering magic, the biting cold of the night air hitting them as they materialized on the town's outskirts. The familiar rush was still a thrill for Holly, though she never let it show. Beside them stood a weather-beaten sign, barely legible under the dim glow of a flickering streetlight, proclaiming "Denver" in faded letters. The town lay sprawling before them like a sleeping giant. Kol, always quick on his feet, didn't waste a second.
"We need transportation," he muttered, his eyes scanning the empty street. In moments, they spotted a sleek, midnight-blue BMW parked in the shadows, its glossy surface catching the moonlight. Kol grinned, a glint of mischief flashing in his dark eyes.
"Shall we?" Without waiting for an answer, he led her toward the car, his steps so light they barely made a sound. In a matter of seconds, the car's engine purred to life, and they sped off toward the city, the world outside becoming a blur as they zoomed toward their destination. Holly leaned back in the passenger seat, glancing sideways at Kol, who seemed far too comfortable behind the wheel of a "borrowed" vehicle. She couldn't help but smile.
"You know, we're being rather bold," Holly's voice cut through the hum of the engine, her eyes dancing with amusement as she leaned toward Kol. "Driving straight to a police station in a stolen car. It's almost like we're daring them to catch us." She flashed a grin, her words dripping with irony.
Kol, his hands steady on the wheel, glanced sideways at her, a smirk playing on his lips. "Stolen?" he echoed, his tone light and teasing. "Borrowed, darling. We'll return it, like last time." He shrugged as though they were discussing something as mundane as borrowing a cup of sugar.
Holly raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. "Uh-huh, sure. And it had to be a BMW M5, didn't it? No practical little sedan for us. Nope, we're driving a car that practically screams, 'Come arrest me.'"
Kol raised an eyebrow, feigning ignorance. "I simply picked the best-looking one. And might I say, I chose well. This car's a beast. I might just buy one for myself after this whole mess."
"You mean compel yourself one," Holly teased, a playful grin spreading across her face.
"No, I mean buy. We decided a long time ago that for the sake of the global economy, we'd actually pay for things. With Rebekah's insatiable need for shopping and the number of properties we own worldwide, not paying would probably topple the economy of a small European country. Plus, it attracts too much attention if we don't."
"Ah, the responsible immortals," Holly quipped with a chuckle. "So, after we deal with the white oak business, we're off to a BMW dealership. Please take me with you. I'd love to watch you pretend to be some teenager who can't afford it, struggling to keep your temper when the salesperson underestimates you. Then you flash your black card, and watch him do a complete 180, kissing your boots."
Kol's brow furrowed slightly. "Black card? What's that?"
Holly's eyes widened in mock horror. "Oh boy. Alright, I'm not asking anymore; I'm telling you—you're taking me with you to the dealership and to your bank. I'll teach you how to spend money, 21st-century style."
"Alright, sounds like our next no-date," Kol said with a grin. "And I need new clothes anyway. Niklaus had the audacity to buy me outfits that make me look like a common factory worker. I mean, really? Me? Wearing trousers fit for a commoner? That's low, even for him."
Holly snorted. "You mean jeans?"
"Is that what they call them? Atrocious things," Kol replied, visibly disgusted.
Holly burst into laughter. She often forgot that Kol had missed nearly a century of modern developments. Helping him adjust to the 21st century was going to be an adventure in itself. Sure, he'd been daggered before and lost a few decades here and there, but nothing compared to the whirlwind changes of the past century.
"Alright, no-date it is," Holly said, still grinning. "But seriously, when are you going to grow some courage and ask me out on an actual date?" Her tone was teasing, but there was a genuine curiosity behind the question. Why was Kol holding back?
Without warning, Kol pulled the car to an abrupt stop, the tires skidding slightly on the damp road. The silence that followed was almost tangible, thick with unspoken emotions. He turned to face Holly, his usual bravado gone, replaced by something raw, almost vulnerable. His eyes, dark and ancient, locked onto hers, searching for the right words. After a beat, he spoke, his voice quieter than usual.
"I've waited for you for a thousand years, Holly. A thousand years of endless waiting, searching, and hoping that someday you'd be here." His voice caught for a moment, the weight of his words heavy between them. "Now that you are… I can't risk ruining it by rushing into things when we're in the middle of one life-or-death situation after another. I've waited so long." There was something heartbreakingly sincere in his tone, a rare glimpse into the depths of Kol's carefully guarded heart. He wasn't the reckless, impulsive Mikaelson in this moment—he was just a man, terrified of losing something he'd only just found.
"I've waited so long, and now that you're here, the timing just doesn't feel right. Not for me. My family's a disaster, even more so than usual—before, it was just our father trying to kill us; now it was also our mother, too. I woke up in a world I barely recognize. Everyone's staring at these tiny screens, my wardrobe is an abomination, and I don't even have time to go shopping because, once again, we're dealing with life or death. I don't know any fancy places to take you because I live in a backwater town I despise, and I'm surrounded by a family I want to escape. But as soon as this white oak business is done, I'll fix it all. I swear." Kol continued.
His words hung in the air, raw and jagged, like open wounds he never allowed anyone to see. It felt foreign to him, exposing that part of himself, especially to someone else. Vulnerability wasn't something Kol Mikaelson did often—if ever—but there was something about Holly, the way her gaze softened when he spoke, the silent understanding that passed between them. She wasn't just a fleeting romance, another name in the centuries he'd lived. She was... different, someone he trusted enough to let down the walls he had spent lifetimes building.
"Oh, Kol," Holly said softly, her expression tender. "You know none of that matters to me, right? The wardrobe, the fancy restaurants, your lunatic family? Trust me, you'll meet mine soon enough, and you'll see we're all a bit mad."
Kol chuckled, though he tried to maintain his serious tone. "You say that now, but wait until you see me in really well-fitted smart pants. You'll throw away all my jeans then, I'm sure of it. I mean, let's be honest—jeans don't do me any favors. They don't even show off my ass properly, and I happen to have an excellent ass, in case you haven't noticed."
Holly laughed, shaking her head. "Kol, no matter what you plan for our first date, I'm not sure it'll top what we've already done. I mean, since we met, I've killed my future mother-in-law—millions of wives would envy me for that—we solved my god-brother's murder mystery, took down a 500-year-old vampire together, massacred some very rude witches, and now we're driving a stolen car to a police station. We've known each other for four days. Merlin only knows what's in store for us today, but whatever it is, I'm sure it'll be exciting. So stop stalling and worrying about the details. I'm having the time of my life with you."
Kol let out a resigned sigh, a smile tugging at his lips. "You drive a hard bargain, darling. Fine, let's make a deal. After we sort out the white oak situation, you take us to Milan—my favorite city for shopping—I'll buy myself some proper clothes, we'll eat at a nice restaurant, and we'll have a quiet, boring date. Deal?"
"Deal," Holly agreed with a grin. "But you have to pinky swear it."
Kol narrowed his eyes, his expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. "No. I'm an Original. I instill fear in my enemies, not pinky swear."
But Holly simply placed her hands on his chest and gave him her best attempt at the wide, pleading eyes of the Shrek cat. Kol groaned.
"Fine," he relented, holding out his pinky. "I pinky swear."
"Yay! You're the best!" Holly cheered, linking her pinky with his and pressing a kiss to his cheek.
Kol couldn't help but smile as he started the car again, heading toward the police station. Once there, they casually strolled inside and approached the nearest officer, claiming they needed to file a missing person report for Jeremy Gilbert. Holly played the role of concerned sister with ease, Kol throwing in a little compulsion to ensure the police would do the legwork for them. They left their contact details and headed off to a nearby hotel.
After checking into a suite, Holly took the opportunity to see if any white oak existed in the area. Thankfully, there wasn't. They had enough problems already without new ones cropping up.
Later, as they sat in the hotel lobby—Kol nursing a whiskey while Holly indulged in treacle tart—Holly's phone rang. It was the police. They'd found her "brother."
Kol and Holly once again made their way to the police station, slipping into the building with an air of quiet confidence. As they entered, they were greeted by the sound of a teenager's indignant shout echoing through the hall.
"I didn't run away! I moved to Denver with my sister's blessing!" the boy protested loudly, his voice laced with frustration.
Holly, ever the actress, immediately put on her best concerned face, rushing forward. "Thank goodness my brother is safe," she exclaimed, a hint of relief—entirely fabricated—creeping into her voice. She turned to the officer, adding, "Thank you, officer, for finding him safe and sound. I was so worried."
The boy, who was unmistakably the doppelgänger brother they sought, looked utterly confused, as though the very world had shifted beneath his feet. "Who are you?" Jeremy asked, his brows furrowing in bewilderment.
Holly turned to him with a look of feigned disbelief. "What do you mean, Jeremy? I'm your sister! Did you hit your head? Officer, what's wrong with him?" she asked, her voice now laced with just the right amount of concern.
The officer, who was in charge of the case, offered a sympathetic nod. "We didn't find any sign of injuries," he explained. "But he was confused and quite upset when we picked him up from the school parking lot."
Holly sighed theatrically, placing a comforting hand on Jeremy's arm. "I'm afraid the death of our parents has been hard on him. It must be easier for him to forget me than face losing me like we lost everyone else. But don't worry, Jeremy," she said, her voice soft yet firm, "we'll get through this together. Therapy, a fresh start—everything will be fine."
Jeremy, however, wasn't playing along. His face twisted with panic, and he began to pull away. "Officer, I don't know this woman! She's not my sister!"
The officer glanced between the two of them, clearly uncomfortable. "Sorry, son," he said, scratching his head. "She's got all the paperwork. We've checked it twice. You need to listen to her. She's only looking out for you. Don't run away again."
Kol, who had remained silent until now, stepped in to assist Holly in guiding the reluctant boy out of the station. As soon as they reached the car, Kol made an attempt to compel Jeremy into compliance. But, as Kol had half-expected, it didn't work.
"Of course," Kol muttered under his breath, frustration evident. "Our compulsion only works on vampires and hybrids. Being a medium makes him supernatural, too. Either that, or he's been drinking vervain."
Holly raised an eyebrow. "Too bad we can't drain the vervain out of him like we did with Damon. Though, I must admit, your sister Rebekah had most of the fun that time," she added with a mischievous grin.
Jeremy's eyes widened in horror. "Who are you people?" he stammered, his fear palpable now.
Kol smirked, enjoying Jeremy's discomfort. "Oh, I see Elena hasn't kept you in the loop," he said mockingly. "Tsk tsk. Siblings—always the worst enemies." He turned to Holly, still smirking. "We're the people your dear doppelgänger sister has managed to annoy. She and her little gang of do-gooders think they're the heroes, but they're wrong. Dead wrong."
Jeremy's struggles increased, but Kol simply shoved him into the car. "Now, keep quiet. I may not be able to compel you, but I can certainly check if you've been sipping vervain. One little taste, and we'll find out."
The drive to the hotel was tense, with Jeremy quietly seething in the back seat. Once they arrived, Kol yanked him out of the car, guiding him firmly but carefully. "Let me save you the trouble," Kol said darkly, "You'll walk through the lobby without making a scene, or I'll snap the neck of anyone who so much as looks at you. Understood?"
Jeremy nodded weakly, too terrified to do otherwise. They passed through the lobby and into the lift, reaching their suite without further incident. Once inside, Holly gestured for Jeremy to sit. She tried to penetrate his mind, her brows furrowing in concentration. But there was no success.
Kol, also unsuccessful in his attempts, sighed. "Well, this is frustrating."
As a last resort, Holly turned to the one entity she knew could help. With a wave of her hand, she summoned Death. The temperature in the room plummeted instantly. Their breaths became visible in the icy air as a shiver ran down their spines. Moments later, Death appeared, leaning heavily on his scythe.
"Mistress," Death greeted weakly, his posture slouched and his voice faint, as though he had barely survived the night.
Holly surveyed him with clear disapproval. "You're embarrassing me in front of our guest," she remarked dryly. "One guest, and one hostage, that is. I need your help."
Death, looking rather sheepish, sighed. "Apologies, Mistress. Yesterday was Lucifer's birthday. He wanted to invite you, but I told him you were busy. I may have indulged a bit too much."
Holly pinched the bridge of her nose. "Yes, well, someone has to keep things running while the rest of you are out celebrating. There's always someone's birthday in the death realm." She sighed, her irritation barely concealed. "But never mind that. I need your assistance. This boy," she pointed at Jeremy, "can talk to dead people. Kol and I can't break into his mind. I need you to work your deathly magic on him."
Jeremy's skin had turned ashen, his entire body trembling like a leaf caught in a storm. The sight of Death standing before him—an actual, tangible figure—struck him like a physical blow. His mind struggled to process it, but deep down, he knew this was real. Horribly, terrifyingly real. The cold that radiated from the entity wasn't just a temperature drop—it was an abyss of despair that burrowed into his very soul, a chill that not even the bravest could withstand. He had faced the supernatural before, but nothing, nothing had ever felt as overwhelming as this. His breath came in ragged gasps, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that he feared it might burst. All thoughts of defiance, of escape, evaporated like mist in the wind. Death was here, and it wasn't just a concept or a ghostly idea—it was standing in front of him, and it was real. A part of him was so terrified that he didn't even notice when he wet himself.
Holly, wrinkling her nose at the sudden stench, waved her hand, cleaning the boy up instantly. Jeremy's eyes widened at her casual display of magic. He had seen Bonnie do spells, but nothing this quick or effortless.
Death, still slouched, sighed again. "Mistress, he's not one of yours. He's tied to the Other Side—an abomination, if you ask me."
Holly frowned. "So not only can he not be compelled or have his mind penetrated, but you can't block his ability to talk to the dead either?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Brilliant. If there's ever a moment when being Mistress of Death is useless, it's now."
Kol smirked. "We could always cut out his tongue," he suggested, as though offering a helpful solution.
At that, Jeremy stood up from the chair and started running towards the exit. Holly sighed in exasperation and swiftly silenced him with a flick of her wrist, sending and binding him to the chair with magic.
"See, Mistress? Young Mr. Mikaelson understands," Death remarked with a hint of amusement.
"Thank you, Death, for being thoroughly unhelpful. You can go now," Holly said, her voice edged with frustration. Death gave a small bow and vanished as quickly as he had come.
Holly stared at Jeremy, who was still struggling against his magical bonds, and then an idea struck her. "Of course," she muttered to herself. "How could I forget? Before I became Mistress of Death, I was a witch first."
She turned to Kol. "I'll use the mind-control spell."
Kol's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You mean the one you used at Klaus' ball?" he asked.
"The very same," Holly replied.
Kol's smirk returned. "I'm a bit surprised you don't use it more often. Would've saved us a lot of trouble."
Holly gave him a wry smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "It's highly illegal. Using the Imperius Curse is one of the Unforgivables. Cast it once, and you're on a one-way trip to Azkaban, where your happiest memories are drained from you like blood from a wound. The prison leaves you hollow, a shell of your former self." She shuddered at the thought. "I tend to avoid it." A shadow passed over her face as she added, almost to herself, "Besides, the other two Unforgivables have already wreaked enough havoc on my life. The Killing Curse took my parents in a flash of green light, and Crucio…" Her voice faltered, as images of Neville's broken, trembling parents filled her mind. "It turned Neville's parents into empty shells, forever lost in their own minds.'"
Kol's grin softened slightly. "Understandable, darling. So, what's the plan?" he asked.
Holly's eyes gleamed with determination. "We work together. I'll cast Imperius on him, ensuring he doesn't reveal to anyone which Original vampire is the sire of the Salvatore bloodline. Meanwhile, you will track down and kill every vampire in the Salvatore line older than them, so that no one finds out who created their line."
Kol chuckled darkly. "I do love how your mind works. I approve of this plan," he said, his voice laced with admiration. "What about him?"
Holly's gaze swept over Jeremy, her expression a mix of calculation and frustration. 'He could be useful as leverage against the doppelgänger,' she said, her voice steady but tinged with exasperation, 'but right now, he's just a liability. We don't have the luxury of time. We need to act quickly.' Her eyes flickered with determination. 'Call your family and get us the next lead. I'll take care of Jeremy. If he's going to be a stumbling block, I'll make sure he's out of our way before we proceed.' Her tone was sharp, underscoring her impatience and resolve.
Kol nodded and stepped aside to make the call. Meanwhile, Holly's fingers brushed the smooth wood of the Elder Wand as she drew it from its holster, its power thrumming through her hand like a living pulse. Her heart raced, not from fear, but from the weight of what she was about to do. The Imperius Curse wasn't just a spell—it was domination over another's soul, bending their will to yours. She couldn't afford any mistakes. Her grip tightened, and with a steely resolve, she raised the wand, its tip now glowing faintly in the dim light. "Imperio," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath, but laced with undeniable authority.
Jeremy's eyes glazed over, his expression slackening as he fell under her control. Holly's voice was calm but commanding as she gave him his orders. "If you ever discover which of the Originals is the sire to the Salvatore bloodline, you will tell no one. You will inform me immediately, and answer all my questions truthfully."
As soon as she finished the spell, Kol returned, his phone still in hand. "Good news," he said with a grin. "We only need to make one stop. Are you finished with him?"
"Yes," Holly replied, tucking her wand away. "We'll drop him off in the hotel lobby, and then we can go."
Holly and Kol apparated to the outskirts of a small, forgotten town in Kansas, where Mary Porter, the sire of Rose-Marie, had once lived—or perhaps still did, if time had been kind to her. Niklaus had mentioned to Kol that Mary had gone completely mad over the centuries, rarely venturing outside her dilapidated home. She survived on the blood of curious teenagers who dared to visit what had, decades ago, been labelled the town's "haunted house."
Nik wasn't entirely sure if Mary still resided there, but it was their best lead.
The town itself was little more than a smattering of buildings, seemingly dropped in the middle of nowhere, isolated from the world by endless fields and desolate roads. Not wanting to waste time, Kol, with Holly's permission, scooped her up in his arms and darted at vampire speed toward Mary's house, his movements a blur in the stillness of the countryside.
As they drew closer, the house seemed to rise from the shadows like a forgotten nightmare, its form twisting in the moonlight. Every inch of the structure reeked of abandonment, with wooden boards that splintered and groaned as though they resented their own existence. The cracked windows reflected nothing but darkness, black voids that hinted at secrets festering inside. The house sagged, as if it had grown tired of standing, its foundation sinking under the weight of too many unspoken horrors. A shiver ran down Holly's spine, the air thick with the scent of decay and something else—something ancient and malevolent that watched them from the darkened corners.
"Wow, talk about your classic creepy house," Holly whispered, eyeing the crumbling structure. She kept her voice low, not wanting to alert its deranged occupant too soon.
Kol gave her a wicked smile as they approached the front door, moving silently as he led the way inside. The door creaked ominously as it swung open. Once inside, Kol positioned himself in front of Holly, shielding her from view, his senses heightened, ready for anything.
It didn't take long. A shuffling noise echoed from the top of the stairs, and moments later, a figure appeared, descending slowly into the foyer. Mary Porter shuffled down the staircase like a ghost trapped between worlds, her appearance more grotesque than ethereal. Her nightgown, once perhaps a pristine white, was now a filthy, ragged thing that clung to her frail body like cobwebs. Her skin was pallid, paper-thin, and stretched tightly over bones that jutted out unnervingly at odd angles. Her eyes, wide and wild, glistened with madness, while her hair—matted and tangled—looked as though it hadn't been brushed in centuries. There was something deeply unsettling about her, as if she existed outside the realm of sanity, caught between the living and the dead. When her eyes landed on Kol, a grotesque smile spread across her face.
"Kol!" she cried, her voice high-pitched and disturbingly cheerful. "I knew you'd come around eventually! You were the only Mikaelson male who never had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with my womanly charms. Centuries, and I've been waiting, feeling quite insulted, I must say."
Holly's stomach churned in disgust. Wow, she thought, she even behaves like a desperate lunatic.
Kol, however, seemed unfazed. He flashed a sly grin and replied smoothly, "Well, of all the Mikaelson men, I'm the only one with any taste and class. I imagine you'll enjoy the disappointment, though not for long."
Before Mary could react, Holly stepped out from behind Kol, her eyes flashing with determination. With a flick of her wrist, she sent Mary flying across the room, slamming her into the nearest wall. Kol moved in a blur, producing a stake hidden behind his back and plunging it into Mary's heart in one swift motion.
It was over in seconds.
"Darling," Kol sighed dramatically, wiping his hands as he surveyed the lifeless body. "That was anticlimactic. I love spending time with you, but your efficiency makes things terribly boring sometimes."
Holly raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Did you just call me boring?" she asked, a dangerous edge to her voice.
Kol smirked, backtracking quickly. "Of course not, darling. You know what I mean."
"Actually, I don't," Holly replied, folding her arms. "If I weren't here with you, it would've taken you just as long—maybe even three seconds, since you're getting on a bit. Age might be catching up with you."
"Take that back!" Kol shot back, feigning outrage. "I'm not old!"
Their playful banter was interrupted by the sharp ringing of their phones. Elijah's name flashed on Kol's screen, while Jeremy's appeared on Holly's.
Holly stepped outside to take her call, giving Kol the space to answer his.
"Hello, Jeremy," Holly said, her tone chirpy despite the unsettling atmosphere. "I assume you've got news for me?"
"Yes," Jeremy replied, his voice unnervingly mechanical. "Rose-Marie just appeared to me. She said that she was visited by 'Scary Mary' from Kansas, who told her that she—and therefore Rose-Marie—belonged to Klaus's sireline."
Holly swore under her breath. The bitch has been dead for barely two minutes, and she's already running her mouth on the Other Side.
"Did anyone ask you about the sirelines?" she pressed, her voice tight with urgency.
"Yes," Jeremy continued in that same robotic tone. "My sister called, asking me to contact Rose-Marie about which sireline she belonged to."
"And what did you tell her?" Holly asked, her heart pounding.
"I told her Rose-Marie was of Klaus's bloodline," Jeremy answered, oblivious to the rising fury in Holly's voice.
Holly's blood ran cold. A shiver coursed through her as the realization hit. How could this have happened? Why didn't the Imperius Curse work?
"You told her what?!" she hissed, her fury barely contained. "I gave you specific instructions not to reveal anything!"
Jeremy's response was chilling in its simplicity. "You told me not to reveal which bloodline the Salvatores were from. Elena asked specifically about Rose-Marie, not the Salvatores, so I told her. I followed your instructions."
Holly's breath caught in her throat. How could I have been so careless? Her own arrogance, her overconfidence in her powers, was unraveling everything. She hastily told Jeremy to forget their conversation and hung up, cursing herself for her foolishness. Her mistakes could cost the Originals their lives.
A few minutes later, Kol emerged from the house, his face pale and stricken, a look of devastation unlike anything Holly had ever seen on him. He stumbled to the porch, his usually cocky demeanor replaced by one of utter shock.
"Kol," Holly called out, her voice soft with concern as she moved toward him. "What happened?"
"Kol's legs gave out beneath him as he sank onto the porch, his face ashen, eyes wide with disbelief. He stared at the ground, his usual cocky confidence shattered, replaced by a hollow emptiness. 'Elijah…,' he rasped, his voice raw and broken. 'He said… Rebekah is dead.' The words seemed to choke him, as though speaking them aloud made them unbearably real. 'Killed by Matt… and a vampire hunter. White-oak dead.' His breath hitched, and for a moment, Holly feared he might break down right there. 'And Niklaus…,' he continued, his voice barely a whisper, 'they desiccated him. The Salvatores and Lockwood… Elijah's trying to bargain for his body.' His voice cracked, and for the first time, Holly saw something she never thought she would—Kol, utterly undone, tears brimming in his eyes as he whispered, 'My sister is gone.'" he whispered, the words barely escaping his lips before he began to sob, his grief pouring out uncontrollably.
Holly's heart clenched. She sat beside him on the porch, wrapping her arms around him, holding him close as he wept. Her mind raced, torn between the grief of her friend and the gnawing guilt consuming her from within. Your own arrogance will be your downfall. The words she had once flung at Voldemort echoed cruelly in her mind, taunting her.
It was all her fault.
