a/n: the end of this chapter is so chaotic, and I kinda adore it, even if it's not necessarily perfectly TVD lmao - remember to comment vote x
- Bea <3

MJ smiled as she offered out her arm, letting Caroline's soft fingers gently slip through and grip, an old waltz accompanying their steps, a bouquet carefully organised in her hand. A few paces ahead were Josie and Lizzie, carefully tossing petals out of a basket as Ric beamed on, Bonnie carefully following behind, keeping them on track. Bonnie bobbed her head, taking in the number of unfamiliar faces Damon had compelled to attend, any of Caroline's extended family too far away for the rush. The flowers were pink, a purple carpet across a fake white floor, pressed into the carefully trimmed garden of the estate, long branches outlining the audience.

Then, the pair stepped into the sun.

MJ had to admit, not only was she proud of Caroline's dress, and the way it glittered in the light, she was also pretty chuffed she'd managed to make a replicate of Bonnie's dress for herself. No, she would not be answering questions about how many shops she broke into that night, and no, she would not be answering questions about why The Twins woke up with headaches.

She couldn't stay another night...

Pushing that thought away, MJ sent a smile to one of her best friends.

She took in the way Caroline's hair bounced, re-curled, styled to accompany the tiara on her head, the top half slightly plaited, then twisted into ringlets, adding more lift to her features, eyes perfectly accented with just the right among to glittering gold eye shadow, thin black liner, and peach perfect lipstick. She was beautiful. MJ had always known Caroline was beautiful – through the mass hair straightening and stick liner, MJ's own clothing choices hardly much better, she had seen how gorgeous she was.

And, as Stefan's eyes landed on them, it was clear he'd realised it too.

MJ sent him a smile, before turning to beam at the bride, their arms linked, carefully descending the cobblestone steps, towards the flower arch at the end of the aisle.

The girls were ferried into two seats near the front, Bonnie standing just to the left of the empty stand, Stefan on the right, Damon in the middle. As Caroline stepped up to join them, MJ gave her hand one final squeeze. A nod. A reminder. If Caroline didn't want to follow this through, she did not have to, and MJ would interject and run away with her without hesitation.

Lightly, MJ kissed Caroline's knuckles before finally letting her face her fiancé.

Then, she stepped to the right, the grooms' side, shaking her head as Stefan couldn't help but laugh. Except, something shifted. MJ watched it in Caroline's eyes, confused from the lack of vampire hearing as her lips moved, as hush as one could be, darting to the large blue necklace at her throat. MJ had slightly questioned it – especially when Esther's necklace from the prison world was an option. Damon had given it to Caroline as her 'something borrowed.' A symbol of Elena. But, instead, that was wrapped around her wrist so Stefan's gift could be front and centre.

Caroline sent her a look of panic.

MJ nudged her head to the door.

Caroline shook her head, chin bobbing to the necklace, and mouthing 'Katherine.'

MJ instantly turned to the stands, scanning faces, counting the regular civilians, hit with a terrible yet brilliant realisation. She finally didn't recognise them. Sure, a few weren't complete blanks – enough were regulars from The Grill who hadn't changed too much in five years, but a large number of them were new. Was that because she'd moved away? Was it because she'd died.

It didn't matter.

Where was Katherine?

MJ's eyes met Ric, watching him shift up, then Tyler, breathing out slightly at his presence; it was possibly the best thing that had happened to her since the summoning...until she remembered that Katherine might kill him. No. Katherine wouldn't – stop! MJ...she was the queen of hell, and she would do anything to stay alive, but –

Kelly fucking Donavon, sat on Matt's left.

"I'm calling CPS," MJ's eyes bugged, and Matt clearly noticed, giving her a look that read, 'you don't even want to know the half of it.'

Tyler followed her eyeline, Matt shooting up in surprise at his face as Tyler shrunk in the seat.

Oh – MJ was about to fight a bitch.

No way in hell was Tyler sinking in his chair –

"Dearly beloved," Damon gave her a pointed look to relax, "We are gathered here today to witness the joining of these two epic lovebirds in official matrimony."

MJ's heart couldn't help but warm; she really did love the word 'epic.'

"Stefan has found the woman of his dreams."

She resisted the urge to make a joke about Elena, eyes locking with Bonnie as they both fought off smiles.

"And," Damon honestly sounded kinda bored, "He's going to share the rest of his human life with her."

If any of the compelled guests had free will, they probably would've found that line off.

"But," Damon was scanning faces too, "Before we begin..."

Each word had been emphasised to give Katherine an opening.

"If anyone has any objections to this union?"

MJ resisted the urge to plead her own case for Caroline's hands, just for the amusement of it.

For Enzo's spirit.

Because she knew he'd be watching, telling her how much he regretted not setting the two up, and how much he'd longed to be the flower girl...

"Please speak now!" Damon lifted his hands, almost like a beckoning symbol, "Or forever hold your peace."

MJ let her eyes drift back to Bonnie. If they focused on each other, instead of the situation, Caroline and Stefan could eye up guests without either of them breaking down. Was this going to be MJ's first wedding in two years to not end –

...

Seven years.

Six years?

Everything was decorated so beautifully, from the ornate guest chairs creating neat rows, to the white planks of wood replicating a hall without walls, allowing a golden light to cast over the pair. MJ couldn't help but love weddings. If she ever actually managed to get one – if Kol would even want to think about something like marriage beyond his teasing remarks, she'd want it to be outside. Properly outside. No need for faux-walls. Sure, maybe Kol would want one in winter, in which case she'd adapt, and sure, summer didn't guarantee good weather, but something about the green just beyond the temporary floor?

The flowers, easily crafted into perfect backdrops for the man running around with a camera, who should've been her?

"Yep," Damon clicked his teeth, "Speak right now."

MJ couldn't stop her eyes from jumping to Ric.

"Anyone?"

This was when his wedding had gone wrong.

"As in now."

Was she cruel to make him sit through it? Like, his eyes were welling up, but it didn't seem to be from grief, but how would MJ know what his grief face looked like after four years – did grief faces change? ...Possibly, but, regardless, he was just looking at his daughters, staring up at their mum, hands pushed into their chairs, big smiles on their faces.

"Right now!"

There was finally movement, MJ about to stick out her hand to repel whatever was fired at Caroline's head, only for...Kelly Donavon? She wasn't objecting, in fact, she was shoving on her coat, rooting through her bag, and charging towards the make shift doorway at the end of the purple catwalk.

MJ let her glare follow the woman.

Kelly Donavon was alive?

Sure, she'd heard Matt imply she was visiting, but with the way she'd completely abandoned him after making out with Tyler, MJ had kind of assumed the worst.

When her footsteps were gone, Damon looked between Bonnie and MJ on either side of the couple.

"Well," He cleared his throat, "It seems like no one's objecting."

"You can sound less upset about that," MJ managed a joke, a few people catching it and stifling a laugh, "Sorry, please continue."

"That's right!"

Matt quickly stood up, following after his mother, Tyler meerkat-ing, like he might've chased his friend, if not for MJ's clear 'you do not move a muscle right now' expression.

"I will!" Damon nodded, watching Matt walk away, "As I'm ordained!"

Bonnie joined MJ in her quiet giggle.

"So, we will continue with the ceremony!"

Caroline's head jerked towards him, "We will?"

"You betcha," Damon suddenly sounded like he wanted to be there, "Do you, Stefan Salvatore, take this lovely woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," He didn't even hesitate, straightening up to smile at her.

"And," Damon lifted a hand, "Do you, Caroline Forbes."

MJ watched as Bonnie's face fell in a fashion she knew all too well.

"Take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

Caroline's lips seemed to part as she realised the event was real.

"To have and to hold, in sickness and in health."

MJ couldn't help but mouth along just a little, letting Bonnie catch her eyes.

"Until death do you part?"

"I do."

"Perfect," Damon clapped, "I believe the bride and groom have chosen to write their own vows."

Both desperately shook their heads, "We haven't."

"Oh," Damon shrugged that off, "Just wing it."

Both opened their mouths in panic.

Caroline looked like she might have gone to speak –

"Caroline?" Stefan lifted her hands between them, "You have been my friend."

MJ let her breath get taken away.

"My conscience," He continued, "My sounding board."

She missed her sounding board.

"You saw light in me, when all I saw was darkness," He let himself just gaze at her, like the strangers were empty chairs, their friends the only ones that mattered, "You saved me from despair."

Without really noticing, for the first time since the pair had gotten together, MJ felt herself truly on board with it. Maybe it was out of protective love for Stefan, or maybe it was how much she loved Caroline, but something had never felt quite right to MJ – not until then. But, it hadn't mattered what MJ thought. Caroline and Stefan had been happy. And so she'd watched it happen, and, now, she got to enjoy just how much had changed...

"You once told me that I would fall madly in love without realising it."

Caroline couldn't help but look at MJ and smile.

"And that's what happened," He wasn't looking anywhere else, though, "Day by day, bit by bit, year by year. With you."

"I remember saying that to you," She beamed, "We were dancing at my prom."

Her voice cracked slightly, and MJ kept her eyes on Bonnie, both welling up. Partly out of love for her. Partly at how deep loss was embedded in them. They'd get their happy endings. Even if MJ stayed a spirit for the rest of existence, she would spend every second trying to make sure Bonnie either got Enzo back, or found someone else who brought her that kind of joy – anything, but thinking about how much they'd cried at Prom.

And, MJ would never stop fighting.

Even if Kol had given up, MJ had promised to find him in everything. To break through. She would come back, and if he hadn't turned on his humanity, she would find it, and she would love him, and they would get their peace. They couldn't exist solely to run from his family, or stressed about anything; they would be happy.

"It's funny, the things we remember, after all the years go by," She was shaking her head to the side, "I remember how you told me that when I was ready for you, you would be ready for me."

"Once you are ready, I will happily spend the as many years as I need to, chasing your affections."

"I'm ready now."

"I will spend as long as it takes making this tirade up to you."

"I think a part of me has been ready for this day since the moment I saw you," Caroline teased herself, "The mystery guy in the hallway at school."

The twins pushed up in their seats, sharing an excited smile at the line.

"A hundred years from now," She let a single tear fall, "I will remember this moment for the both of us."

They all let the couple bask in that glow as not even the wind dared to interrupt.

"Munchkins," Damon winked at the twins, "Rings?"

They were both holding a pillow, the piece of jewellery carefully resting in the centre.

"Now."

"With this ring," Stefan picked up the first one, slipping it onto her finger, "I thee wed."

"With this ring," Caroline repeated, "I thee wed."

"With the power recently invested in me, by the Commonwealth of Virginia," Damon didn't waste another second, "I now pronounce you husband and wife!"

The entire room stood to clap.

"You may kiss the bride, little brother."

MJ couldn't help but gag at the use of the word, still never quite understanding any vampire's obsession with it, but also laughing in joy. Flicking her wrist, so the remaining petals in the twin's bowl fluttered into the sky, scattering across the pair as their lips completed the ceremony. She let herself find Bonnie's side, squeezing it like a life raft, as the woman managed to breathe in, giving her a reassuring nod.

"You don't have to be okay," MJ whispered.

"I know," Bonnie held her tighter, "But, we will be."

MJ let herself look at her friends, nearly ten years in.

They'd all met in 2009.

Well, it was nearly nine years since they'd met, but that was basically a decade, and...there they were. Smiling. Together. Bonnie held MJ tighter, eyes closing for just a moment, letting the petals brush against their arms, smiling up at the sunlight.

THE GUARDIAN ANGEL
We're Planning a June Wedding

A slow piano tune lulled the wedding reception into its own pocket of time, each key hanging just long enough before sliding into the next, creating a smooth wash as Caroline and Stefan swayed in the centre. The marquis had been set up around the front of the house, the front door open for the bathroom, the sides covered in fairy lights, a ball of glowing yellow in the now dark sky.

MJ was dancing with the twins.

They'd been with her all night, first poking with questions about magic, and ghosts, and her relationship with their dad, before letting MJ shift topics into stories about their 'mum.' Lizzie clung to her shoulder, one arm wrapped under her legs to securely balance her against MJ's hip, while Josie had her other hand, head against MJ's stomach, swaying softly.

"And that's when we decided the definitive ranking of superior ice cream flavours."

MJ's eyes briefly met Bonnie, Damon dancing with her, scanning the faces of the guests. She couldn't help but assume they were discussing Katherine, Bonnie saying something to earn a chuckle before her expression drifted distant.

MJ recognised the look.

It was the expression of someone who'd spotted a ghost, lips turning into a sad smile, being rocked by the partner they were dancing with, waiting for an excuse to vanish.

Stefan's lips found Caroline's in the background.

"Do you want to know my favourite dance move?" MJ carefully placed Lizzie down, "I love being spun."

Tyler stepped away from the bar, two glasses in hand.

"Wanna spin with me?"

The girls cheered, "YES!"

MJ lifted their hands, watching their tiny feet rapidly turn.

"I can spin longer!" Lizzie declared.

"Nu-uh."

As they both tried to keep going, MJ raised and lowered her hands as appropriate, unable to stop herself from laughing as they eventually tripped, about to crash to the floor –

MJ yanked up.

The pressure in the air bounced them back to stability, the orange lines up her forearms creeping down slightly.

"Do you have to go?" Lizzie's arms clung to her side, "Why can't we keep you?"

"All ghosts move on eventually," MJ let her hand brush the top of her head, "It's called finding peace."

"Why weren't you there already?" Josie's eyes were big, "Can we find you there?"

MJ paused.

Her eyes jumped to Ric's, sitting quietly by a table pushed to the side, a drink in his hand, just watching them. It wasn't a nervous watch – or a panicked one...it was something sadder.

At least the sad eyes weren't directed at Caroline.

"Some ghosts aren't ready for peace," MJ tried, "I was one of them."

"But," Lizzie frowned, "You're ready now?"

MJ didn't want to lie to them.

But, she didn't want them getting attached, and making the same mistakes she had, at a far younger age. Even at eleven, MJ should've known better than to attach herself to her mother's spirit. The Twins were four. They didn't know better.

"My peace is different," She let herself look at Caroline, "My peace is knowing you're happy."

"Then, why can't we see you again?"

"Maybe you will," MJ squeezed Josie's hand, "When you need me most, I'll always be here."

Was that a promise she could make?

They were young, they probably wouldn't remember...

"Do you know our mummy?" Josie slowed, "Is she with you?"

MJ bit her lip.

"Waiting until we need her?"

"I like to think your biological mother is at peace," MJ brushed the brunette's hair behind her ear, "And that peace means she's watching you."

Josie and Lizzie both glanced around, excitement in their eyes.

"But, unlike me, she isn't able to interfere."

"Why not?"

"Because she trusts me, and your dad, and your other mum, to keep you smiling."

Lizzie giggled a little, "They do that."

"Then your mum's definitely at peace," MJ winked, "If I find her, I'll make sure she knows how special her two little girls are."

"If we're so special," Lizzie squeezed her hip, "You'd stay with us."

MJ's turn to laugh, only to spot Matt walking back through the doors, his phone to his ear.

"Stay! Stay! Stay!"

"Sadly, I have other little girls to look after," MJ changed tactics, "My undead life is incredibly busy."

Lizzie rolled her eyes.

"Would you want those other witches to get lonely?"

"No," Josie answered, "But, if you visit them, you have to visit us."

"I'll try," MJ did mean it, "I really will."

Matt turned from the room, staring out at the dark sky.

"How about, you two talk your dad into a dance," She used her arms to swing their energy in the direction of Ric, him noticing and forcing himself to sit up as they charged, "That's great motivation for me."

Once they were off, MJ headed straight to Matt, Tyler rushing after her with their drinks.

"Where's you mum?"

"Hell if I know," Matt's foot was tapping as he stared into the darkness outside their fairy light escape, "Can't find my dad either."

MJ tensed, "He doesn't still have..."

"No."

"Okay," Tyler handed Matt one of the drinks, "You seem to need this more than I do."

Matt tried for a smile, "Welcome home."

"I think we both know Mystic Falls isn't my home anymore," But Ty patted him on the shoulder, "Your mum and your dad?"

"Don't even get me started," He took a long swig, "If you see my mum – "

"I will be running in the other direction," Tyler lifted the second drink, "Out of incredible shame and embarrassment."

"If I see your mum," MJ's smile was forced, "I'm beating her ass."

Tyler almost spat out his drink, though, Matt didn't manage a smile, just dialling another number on his phone.

"I mean," MJ lowered her anger, "I can try tracking her if you wanna hand over some blood?"

"Maybe," Matt nodded in thanks, "I'll check my car, then see if I missed a bathroom in the house."

"Give a shout if you need a hand," Tyler nodded, "I'll happily look for your dad?"

Matt did almost smile at that, at the least, giving MJ a careful shoulder rub before heading back into the night, down the path of light that led to the car park.

"MJ!" The twin's voices forced the pair to face the room, "Dad won't dance!"

MJ laughed, looping her arm with Tyler's to pull him towards the pair.

"My dad's doing okay?" She checked.

"He's okay," He promised her, "Alice is doing great in school – Justin can talk now..."

He checked her expression, seeing it drop, but also seeing a small light in her eyes. Of course it was hard to hear about the things she'd missed, but her family were okay? Plus, it wasn't exactly her first rodeo. She'd had almost an identical conversation with Sam – shit. She needed to call Sam. He'd answer. He was her generation – he was on his phone enough –

"Bonnie's still refusing to come over for Christmas," Ty spoke deliberately louder, Bonnie's dance with Damon coming to an end, her mouth dropping in defence, "So if you want someone to blame for your dad's sadness – "

"I'm not actually related to him!" Bonnie defended, "And like..."

"You had Enzo," MJ assumed, smiling, reaching Ric's table, "No worries."

"Who knows," Bonnie breathed out, "Might accept it this year."

MJ scanned the clear lie on her face, "Bon..."

"It, just," She pushed her shoulders up, "Hi! Sorry I can't bring your daughter back from the dead! Cook me turkey?"

"Come on," MJ rolled her eyes, "That's such a weak reason."

"It's what your dad thinks Kol's is thinking," Ty murmured, then perked up, "He's been sending Ali and JJ Christmas presents."

MJ's heart warmed slightly.

...That didn't feel like a no-humanity vampire.

Unless, no-humanity-Kol was an incredible future planner and knew he would eventually end up back with her family – which implied hope in his chances at reviving her – which meant he didn't hate her? MJ could relax just a little, knowing that a part of him must've been carrying her with him. Why else send presents?

Ric was watching her carefully.

"Wanna dance?" MJ offered her hand, the girl's tugging at their dad's legs, "Can't actually say no to a dead woman? Can you?"

Ric rose to his feet, "You get whatever you want."

"But, we wanna dance with you," Josie tugged his hand.

"You're gonna dance with Tyler," MJ shoved him forward, watching his eyes go wide, "He's surprisingly good – was my date to Miss Mystic, which your mother won, with her impeccable dancing skills and fashion sense."

Lizzie looked up at him, tilting his head.

"Am I being examined by a child?" Ty pretended to whisper.

"You are," Bonnie nodded, "And she will probably deem you subpar."

Lizzie's lips twitched up at their opinion, "I guess he'll do."

Josie grabbed his hand first, the twins pulling Tyler to the floor, allowing Ric to take MJ's, leading her there too.

"You made that dress quick," He noted, hand on her side, "Very impressive."

"What can I say?" MJ mused up, "I still got it."

Ric let his head bob, the song blasting through the speakers, turning from piano into guitar, everything paused for a second to clap as Stefan and Caroline kissed again.

"You doing okay?"

"Yeah," Ric nodded, "It's nice to see one go well."

MJ rested her head on his shoulder.

"It's nice to see you."

His suit was simple; MJ knew she wouldn't have gotten him into anything fancy, or a waistcoat, or patterned – she was surprised he'd pulled on the tie she'd left him, but it was something. Clean, and crisp, and not covered in blood, meaning he could dance with her, in her silver glow, and enjoy the lights around them.

"Dorian's sent me an update about our psychic energy manipulation theory," He started, "If we create a massive amount of energy, it might breach the planes of hell, and destroy it."

"Or," MJ followed, "Give me a way out of mine."

"You can come home," He squeezed their linked hand, "It might actually happen, MJ."

"I'm so sorry."

"What for?"

"That it works out for me," She met his look, feet going back and forth, "For Kol."

Her voice couldn't help but go quiet at his name.

"But it didn't work when you went looking for Jo."

"You guided her to peace," Ric reminded her, "Jo's...she's okay."

"I'm starting to think it's not so simple," MJ admitted, "I met a spirit from peace."

Ric tensed.

"I thought it was a sign all the walls of the dead were crumbling, and maybe they are, but maybe that's just part of the deal," She tried to be positive, "Those spirits can be found. They can come back, and they do so, when they see that they're needed most."

Henrik had helped her find Hayley.

But, he'd also been terrified, and he'd heard a strange voice, and part of MJ had assumed that voice was Davina's. He'd heard her deal with Hayley – or, something along those lines. Or, maybe he'd heard Alexis, trying to tap into The Mikaelson line to create her prophecy of destruction. It didn't have to mean that something was broken.

Papa Legba had told her it was broken.

"Or, they get dragged back, because we can't let them go."

What if the Lwa were the Floare Gods, but in a different font?

Like, if Spanish Travelling communities had done the same thing as the people captured and taken to America, did their belief create whole new deities? Or was it the same, but they just appeared in different clothes? With different accents? Was that how Ryos had tapped into Voodoo so easily?

She'd defaulted to Greek deities because of Silas and Qetsiyah, but...

"I told Bonnie to let me go," She admitted, and Ric tensed, "I don't want your girl's clinging on to me either."

"I don't think it matters if they do," Ric pointed out, "Kol will."

He was buying her sibling's presents.

"Tyler will."

His brief run-in with death had literally pulled her out.

Sure, the sirens, and the tuning fork, and Cade's realm, had played a role, but, MJ couldn't help but find hope in the fact that it was Tyler.

It was her family.

"I will."

"Careful, Ric," MJ couldn't help but tease, "Almost makes it seem like you believe Kol truly loves me."

Ric glanced away.

"You can't hate him forever."

"I don't hate him," Ric let his eyes drift to the centre of the room, where Stefan and Caroline danced, Damon behind them, a glass in his hand, watching on, with a smile, "Sometimes I think about why I came to Mystic Falls."

MJ looked up at him carefully, unintentionally taking the lead in the dance, to keep them swaying back and forth, the girls giggling at Tyler took turns to lift them up.

His face was incredibly stressed, and they kept yelling 'again.'

And, MJ could see Caroline starting to watch behind them, Stefan's arm around her waist, kissing her cheek as she clapped at her little darlings.

"Damon murdered my first wife."

"If you get remarried," MJ joked, "Is that your third wife?"

"Oh my god," He groaned back, "I hope not."

"We cannot count Isobel," MJ reasoned, "I mean, she turned and dumped you."

"He gave her what she wanted," Ric calmed slightly, "Isobel wanted this life."

"And, now," MJ let their hands lift, turning herself, "You're Damon's best friend."

"I guess I didn't have the energy to hate somebody forever."

MJ couldn't help but smile.

That had always been her way of thinking.

...

Then again, there were things that deserved eternal hatred.

It had always just exhausted her too much.

"Klaus destroyed me," Ric let his voice drift, "That summer...after Jenna."

MJ bit her lip.

"Knowing he'd used my body to get you?"

Was it bad that she'd never factored that in?

"You'd let me in, and then he'd used my voice?"

No wonder he'd been such a mess.

"Locked you in the one place you were meant to feel protected?"

No wonder he felt so much guilt when it came to MJ's life with Klaus.

"I was convinced you'd never let an adult near you again," He confessed, "Then, I was stuck, remembering everything he'd done as me, only to remember that you'd put yourself on the line to save me? You stayed with him, because of me."

"It wasn't your fault," She reminded him, "And I never thought of it like that."

Ric managed a smile, "We got through it."

"And, his mother killed you."

"He's a bad person."

"And, he's suffering for it," MJ felt her feet fall out of time, "You know, I once told him that I couldn't wait for the day where he was locked up and begging for mercy."

And, he'd than smacked her head into a table and taken her to Italy.

"I told him I'd sit and laugh."

Now?

"It's actually miserable."

"Klaus isn't Kol," Ric hadn't wanted to talk about Klaus, "Kol scares me in a very different way."

"He should," MJ nodded, "He's honestly, probably, capable of way greater evil."

"He's capable of letting you down," Ric countered, "He's capable of breaking your heart."

MJ's head carefully found his shoulder again.

"You had so much love to give, MJ," He let his arm move further round, cradling her in his chest, "And he was making jokes about you – of course, I didn't like it."

MJ let them slow their steps to an embracing sway.

"You were too kind, and too understanding, and I knew you would not hesitate to share that light with him if given the chance, and I was terrified he'd crush it."

And, his one vision of them, had been Kol ripping up a car.

"His history said he would."

Everyone had thought he would.

"But," Ric's works made her eyes lift, slightly, "We've all made terrible mistakes."

His head was shaking.

"We've done things that no apology can ever heal."

Stefan and Bonnie.

Elena and Jeremy driving a stake through Kol's heart.

Everything Klaus and Katherine had ever done to them.

"And, I'm sorry I made things harder for you guys," Ric finished, "I need you to know that."

MJ let her head nod, incredibly slowly.

"Elijah? That sister they discovered?" Ric's tone lightened, "Kai, and them, are in a nice little box in my head labelled 'true evil.'"

"Not Klaus?"

"Oh, he's somewhere complicated in the cardboard holding them there."

MJ laughed.

"So that I don't spend the rest of my life thinking about them."

Honestly, MJ wished she was able to stop thinking about them.

"I want you to be happy, MJ," He finished, "We've all lost so much, yet, here we are."

"Dancing at a wedding."

"You deserve to be happy."

"I was."

"Now," Ric corrected, "You don't deserve to be in limbo because we all can't let you go."

MJ let her head bob.

"If you have a chance to find peace..."

"Ric," MJ pulled out of his hold to take his hands, "I was happy."

How had it all gone so wrong?

"I'm going to be happy."

One string of hope for the future.

"You're right, we lost so much," She took in the feeling of his fingers in hers, and how oddly squishy it felt, the lines nearing her wrists a clear reminder to top up soon, "And maybe it's incredibly twisted...or, maybe, it's incredibly beautiful."

His eyes were welling up as he stared at her face.

"Out of so much grief, we all found each other."

There were terrible lows, and incredible highs.

And arguments, and confessions of love.

And bourbon – there'd been a lot of bourbon.

"I spent my whole life trying to grasp for anything close to the family I'd once known, and somehow, yeah, I did get my dad back, but even if I hadn't?" She let go of his hands to stretch out, "Look at us."

Surrounded by lights.

"Who cares about who's good, and who's evil, when we get to have moments like these?"

He carefully re-took her head, doing a half-bow to pull her back into a dance stance, MJ's smile returning as they held each other for a moment more.

"Once Kol brings me back," MJ tested the waters, "Does that whole spiel mean you'll be willing to hold a conversation with him?"

"Once I know he's stopped trying to murder people for magic?" He tried, "I will consider it."

MJ took it, "Bonnie doesn't seem as screwed up by it as I thought she'd be."

"God knows there is no universe in which I'm letting anyone tell him The Twins could see you until his humanity is back on."

"Honestly," MJ nodded, "Fair enough."

"MJ," Ric winced, "I'm scared of things he's done, and things he's willing to do."

Was he about to take back his nice sentiment?

Had he only been saying it in the hope that MJ found some clarity, and accepted peace?

Sure, she knew Ric was probably blaming himself for her death. Blaming The Mikaelson's. Blaming his failure to save Jo as proof they may never save MJ either.

"But, if you tell me you're okay with it?" He reasoned, "Genuinely okay with it?"

MJ let her face turn puzzled.

"I will get an actual grip, once you come back."

"What does that mean?"

"They locked Klaus up in your name," Ric revealed, "Everything that happened after your funeral was for you."

MJ straightened up, a little, "Were you there?"

"Kol told Caroline to run, so we skipped town after lighting a floating lantern."

Her eyes couldn't help but soften at that reveal.

Then again, "Kol told her to run?"

"Exactly," Ric bobbed his head, "I knew better than to ignore that."

MJ couldn't help but feel a little sick, trying to use her limited knowledge to piece together everything that must've happened after she'd died.

"But, now I'm seeing you," He continued, "And, you're telling me you can't stand what happened?"

"It wasn't Klaus's fault," Her voice was quiet, "I mean...he did a lot of shit to me at the end of it."

"Stefan told us."

MJ stared at her feet, in the silver heels she'd found in the back of a store, in the early hours that morning. She'd committed more theft in the past twenty hours, than she had in years. Probably, since she'd been homeless. And, like, MJ had still been stealing in Mystic Falls, but like...

"He explained what happened while he was running from Rayna."

MJ swallowed.

Klaus had apologised.

He'd snapped her wrists and compelled her silent and still.

But, she'd accepted the apology...

Was it really good enough? Or, was it timing? Was it hearing him sob about listening to Ryos, and not wanting to be like him? Was it remorse? Was it the Vincent reveal making MJ feel incredibly small, despite being surrounded by friends?

It was because she loved Klaus, and, she knew he loved her.

And, it was because she knew Klaus didn't know how to love like a normal person.

"But, you're telling me, that revenge isn't what you wanted."

She stilled as the song came to an end, "It's complicated."

"So," Ric let them step apart, "Are you okay with what Kol's doing to bring you back?"

Honestly, MJ wasn't sure she knew everything that had happened.

He'd hurt Bonnie – he'd hurt Jeremy? Tyler had implied he'd hurt Whit.

He was supposedly hunting wolf packs, but she just couldn't fully buy it. Not because he wouldn't, but because it felt too small. Which, inherently meant she believed him capable of worse.

"If you are – "

"I am," She decided, "Everyone else using my name is bullshit."

Ric watched her how she spoke.

"They had their own issues, and they wanted an excuse," MJ knew part of it was out of love for her, but, "Kol has only ever acted with my best interests in mind."

She could have named a thousand moments that proven how heavily he cared for her opinion, and wants, and even her morals. Gods, every time he stood there and reminded her of her own advice! Every choice he made, trying to ensure MJ got to live in the city she wanted, with the people she wanted, playing peace with his own siblings, even when they tried to bait him.

"I trust him to be doing that."

"But – "

"And, if he isn't?" She shrugged, "He deserves a few years of acting on his own instincts after spending so much time preserving mine."

Ric let himself breathe out.

Then, he tried for a smile.

"I, uh," MJ nodded to the doorway, "I need some air."

"Be careful," He nodded to her arms, "Wouldn't wanna lose you."

"Wouldn't let you," She joked.

Ric brought his hand up to her face one last time, brushing her cheek gently.

"I love you."

"I love you," He didn't hesitate, "Even if you don't wanna believe in heroes and villains anymore, I think, part of me will always know you were mine."

"Your villain?" MJ played off, "Careful now."

He let his hand drop, laughing, watching as she drifted into the dark outside.

"You good?" Bonnie passed her, the girls in either hand, "Thought I'd save Tyler."

"We need to go to the bathroom," Josie declared.

"Well," MJ let herself move to sitting on the edge of the constructed floor, just outside the tent, "I think those are inside."

"Obviously," Lizzie nodded.

"Not obviously!" MJ feigned offence, "I think lots of animals view the whole world as a bathroom."

"And that," Bonnie decided, "Is a lesson for another night."

She pulled them towards the house as the girl's giggle filled the air, leaving MJ to the quiet. The trees. The muted music, carefully rising, as people started to top up their booze, swaying left and right, basking in the odd tranquillity they were being gifted.

"You good?" Tyler's voice appeared behind her.

"Feel's like that's a you question," MJ put on a smile, "How were The Twins?"

"I was hoping my time with your family would've made me slightly better with kids," Tyler sunk to join her on the floor, "But, it really hasn't."

"Well, you've got a bit of time before you'll be an uncle," She reminded him, "I'm sure you can figure it out by then, right?"

"Obviously," He mocked saluted, "Your kid is different."

She snorted, "I assumed you'd found out."

"I did," Tyler took a sip of the drink he'd been able to reclaim once the dance was over, "Not from you though."

MJ leant into his side, his other arm going over her shoulder.

Her eyes shut.

She could hear the bursting of fabrics weaving together with the wind in the bushes, and tress, a slight twinkling noise as the fairy lights towards the car park knocked into the metal spikes holding them up.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me," He tried to tease, "I had to find out at your funeral?"

MJ laughed, "Gods, if you hadn't, that would've been such a funny way for me to have told you."

"I should've played dumb," He agreed, "Congrats?"

MJ's laughed turned to a snort.

"Maybe?"

She managed a full laugh.

"You didn't want kids."

"I didn't want to be my mother," MJ corrected, "I didn't want to want kids, because then I'd be trying to live the cliché 'got the guy, got the ring, got the baby' ending they give women in movies who'd survived atrocities as a way to tell the audience that she's okay now."

Tyler pretended to look around, "Who's the audience?"

"The Devil?" MJ pitched, "The Gods? The ghosts?"

The way the wind seemed to pick up as she spoke didn't fill MJ with confidence that the universe wasn't treating her life like it's favourite soap opera.

"I didn't want kids because I always knew I'd die young."

Tyler took a longer sip of his drink.

"Why think about kids when you've never loved yourself enough to think of reproduction as anything more than a curse."

"MJ..."

"I want it," She let her hands meet on her lap, "I want my baby."

"You sure?"

"I'm not the problem," She forced herself to say it, "Ric made a point, just then."

"If he was bitching about – "

"I have so much love to give," MJ interrupted, "And, instead of wasting it on people, trying to prove to the universe that I'm not the bastard wart of nature it wanted me to be..."

Tyler pulled her tighter.

"...I could be giving that love to my own child?" She felt stupid for never viewing it that way, "I could make sure a kid gets to grow up happy?"

They'd have all the toys, and the snacks, and the education she'd almost lost.

"I get to have my own little baby?" Her heart longed for the years she'd missed, "I'm terrified to repeat my mum's mistakes."

Why did she feel on the brink of crying.

"My mum is the cliché!" MJ shook her head, "She had the baby, she proved the war was over, and it went so very wrong, but me?"

Her mum had done everything to try and give MJ a different path.

All of that lying when she'd been a ghost?

Every innocent 'I don't know' when MJ had asked about a spell?

"Like...I get to have a family?"

It was all she'd ever wanted.

"My family? I actually made it?"

Well, no, MJ was currently not making it.

She was incredibly dead.

But all those fears about screwing up?

"I get that cliché?"

Part of her knew that when a film ended with a husband and a baby, it was inherently anti-feminist. Her life wasn't worth more because she could reproduce. Her life didn't suddenly have meaning because there was a child involved. Her life always had meaning. And, that meaning wasn't death. And, there was nuance to it. Like, all of life. After everything MJ had lived through, the fact she'd found a family? Someone she loved? If she actually made it to the end?

"Me? Evil-siphoner?"

Tyler kissed her temple, "You're gonna be a great mum."

She closed her eyes to snuggle closer.

"What else is wrong?" He could sense trouble, "I couldn't tell if that Ric convo was a good one or not."

"That'll depend on if he keeps his word."

Ty bit his lip.

MJ sat up straight, staring towards the house.

"MJ?"

"Should I tell Hayley how to cure Elijah?"

Tyler shifted to the left.

"Ryos wrote the instructions, I figured out the bits he wasn't sure on...I know it," She reminded him, "I could wake him up, tell them where to find Klaus, and how to drain Rebekah's hex."

"Why would you do that?"

"Hope."

Caroline's phone was still in MJ's bag, now sitting on a chair in the room.

"And, some other complicated stuff I'm still trying to work through," MJ admitted, "Kol's gotten revenge, maybe I'll want more once I see them again, but, that means I need to see them again."

Tyler's lips curled in, like he might laugh at her.

"What's funny?"

"I finally get you," He nodded, "How good it feels to be right all the time."

"What are you right about?"

"I told Kol that you needed Elena alive," He mused, "Because, if she wasn't alive, you could never properly face how you felt about what happened."

MJ's eyebrows furrowed as she thought about that.

"Sure, part of it was Jeremy guilt," Tyler acknowledged, "Part of it was you being stupidly understanding about how awful Elena's life went."

"How awful all of our lives went."

"But, even after that stuff faded," Tyler reasoned, "You didn't lash out straight away, because you were working your way down your list of ghosts."

MJ knew that was true.

"She wasn't dead, but something was haunting you."

"It's funny how that works," MJ's voice was quiet, "We actually made peace."

Tyler nodded.

"All I needed was an apology, and a thank you," She almost laughed, "Is that pathetic? Or sad, or both of the above?"

"Neither," He defended, "Honestly, at the time, you seemed more dead than Elena was."

Something on his face looked dead thinking about it too.

"So, maybe the key to all ghosts finding peace is to just hear an apology, and a thank you."

"Yeah," MJ grinned, "Who cares about unfinished business, or making amends for your sins."

Tyler smiled right back at her, "If it's unfinished business, you're never finding peace."

"What?!"

"You have too many thoughts to ever run out of unfinished business."

"Maybe that's what my mum meant," MJ joked, "When she said she'd see me in a few centuries time."

Tyler's laughed slowed.

"She knew I'd get caught in limbo, just like she did."

"You caught her," Ty corrected, "And you caught yourself, this time too."

"Too much unfinished business," MJ clicked her teeth, "I prefer thinking about it like that."

The Mikaelsons were always going to be her biggest 'unfinished business.'

"Eventually, Hayley and Finn will figure it out on their own, and then they'll come for Kol."

"They won't," Tyler's expression dropped, "There isn't any venom left for that."

MJ raised an eyebrow.

"Kol's, uh..."

"Been hunting packs," MJ waved a hand, "I've been made aware."

"He killed the last Malraux," Tyler added, "Shipped it to The Mikaelson's the day after your funeral."

MJ blinked slowly.

That would make more sense than annihilating all packs.

But, then, why was he also doing that rumour too?

"We actually saw the guy's body," Tyler pulled a face, "It was still in their courtyard when we invaded."

MJ straightened up, "The guy's body?"

Tyler nodded.

Her lips parted, "That wasn't the last Malraux."

Tyler tensed.

"Her name's Keelin, she's the daughter of Scott Ponzio, so she doesn't have the Malraux last name, but her brother was called Ludo, and I knew them in Los Angeles."

"What?"

"Yeah," MJ filled in, "You know how I ended up with Mason's diaries?"

"Your dad let me take them from where we stashed your stuff," Tyler admitted, "I've been slowly working through them."

"Yeah, I have notes in there about everything I was able to find about her whenever I'd feel too guilty about what happened," She admitted, "If you can find the files Pri got on Lucien's victims, you can see if she's in there, but if not, she should be the last heir."

Tyler blinked incredibly slowly, looking at the confliction on her face.

"Kol knows it's Keelin; I told him."

"I'll, uh," Tyler shook his head, "I'll go back through our log of bodies."

"Do."

Staring at him, MJ tried to face reality. If Tyler had actually found bodies, Kol was genuinely hunting them, and, the reveal of a man's body explained his declaration to Klaus about the Malraux still being out there...Kol was actually completing Mikael's quest of wolf eradication?

It just felt wrong.

After all their talks about the Traveller genocide, and MJ's pack guilt, and the entire point of MiMi Pasare – she just – she just had to believe there was more to it.

...If there wasn't...

She'd told Ric she didn't care.

"Paging the bride and the groom!" Damon's voice ended their contemplation, "Gather round! Gather – gather!"

He was tapping on a glass, signalling the start of a speech.

Tyler rolled his eyes, "Do we really gotta listen to this?"

"Technically I should be making one too," MJ grinned, "Let's see if he remembers that part."

"As of yesterday," Damon held the mic with one hand, a drink in the other, "I was officially betrayed by my youngest brother."

MJ snorted at Tyler as she shuffled past the crowd, towards the dance floor.

"And demoted from best man."

"Whoop-whoop!" MJ made a speaker with her hands, "Is it time for my speech?"

"Nu-uh!" Damon pointed his drink at her, "You may be Stefan's, but I am the best man of the popular vote!"

"In the 1800s, maybe," MJ paused to think, "Oh wait, Katherine turned him too, meaning you didn't even win it back then."

"I won a whole Men of Mystic Falls competition," He winked at her, "You sold me to the highest bidder."

"God," Tyler cringed, "My mum won that."

"Indeed, she did," Damon pulled the perfect face to make Tyler look ready to punch him, "And, I would like to give a little toast."

Stefan and Caroline smiled, having just been poured a glass of champagne each, Caroline managing a laugh at the entire exchange. A laugh, and then a very pointed look at Stefan, him wearing the same teasing smile, holding her closer to his side.

"Little brother."

MJ mouthed it perfectly in time with the vampire.

"I have waited a hundred, and well..." His face paused as he tried to do the math, Caroline finally smiling genuinely at him, "A whole lot of years, to make this speech."

MJ resisted the urge to yell out his age.

Then Stefan's age.

Then, three estimations for how long it might've been since Damon had started thinking he may one day watch his brother get married. The average age back in their day. The average age of the modern era. The age he'd been when he'd met Valerie...Nope! She was not that messy! She was finally on board with Stefan and Caroline!

"And, today, I finally get to tell my little brother – "

"I'll take it from here, gorgeous," Kelly Donavon snatched the mic, walking directly into the centre of the now clear dance floor, "He and I made out once."

Thank god she was pointing at Damon, and not Tyler.

"Super-hot."

"Oh," MJ shoved through the crowd.

"Drunken toast from Kelly Donovan," Caroline spoke through gritted teeth, "Perfect. Now, it's a wedding."

Tyler was just behind her, "Should've made bingo cards."

"Well," Kelly stood behind Damon, "I've known Stefan Salvatore for years."

MJ wasn't sure that was factually true.

"But, I can honestly say, I'm not sure what all the fuss is about."

She finally reached the edge of the dance floor, "That's because he's not underage!"

Kelly spun to face her, eyes raging.

"You prefer them actually seventeen."

"God," Kelly laughed in her face, "Always running to protect Little Miss Perfect over here."

MJ paused her ready to punch fist.

"I mean, I guess someone has to," Her voice sounded like she might burp, "With her mum being dead."

Her eyes went back to Caroline.

"Maybe if you hadn't tried to cure cancer, she might have lived to see – "

That was all MJ needed to dive for her hair, yanking the red curls with no remorse, honestly wishing she'd just acted the minute the woman had grabbed the microphone, slamming her forehead into her knee, then shoving her off the dance floor.

What MJ hadn't expected was to actually pull a chunk of Kelly's hair out.

Her eyes went wide, staring at how stringy it felt in her hand – how manufactured, and –

"You bitch!" Kelly spat at her, blood on her lips, "You use my daughter's name to make people think you're so kind! And thoughtful, and – "

As MJ swung, Tyler intervened, grabbing her hand, Damon appearing in the middle, leaning closer to catch Kelly's eyes.

"That's enough," His pupil's dilated, "Go find the open bar."

Kelly leant in closer, "No."

MJ locked eyes with Damon in confusion at that declaration.

Her hand drifted back to the hair.

Why did it feel like that? Why was her wrists starting to glow? Why were her hands turning red like she could sap energy out of the incredibly human Kelly Donavon –

"Why did some new-to-town gypso even get to slap my daughter's name on her college application?" Kelly stepped back from Damon, "Because of what you did to her."

The hair almost became wax between her fingers as power raced through MJ's veins.

"Vicki didn't hurt anyone, ever."

Matt managed to get through the crowd, appearing next to Tyler as his eyes stayed fixed on how his best friend's hand burnt red.

"She might've turned her life around, but you didn't give her the chance."

MJ didn't hate to interrupt the speech;

"Then again, I never had a chance, either – "

Her hand found the back of Kelly's throat, and the woman started to scream, the red glow of siphoning spreading down her spine, confirming to all who knew, that she was made up of magic.

"Let – "

MJ forced her to her knees, watching as her lifeline turned from a low-battery notification to the rush of power, not only hitting her elbows, but jumping to her eyes, familiar fire burning as Damon tried not to panic.

"LET GO OF ME – "

MJ did, shoving the woman to the floor, and turning to Caroline and Stefan, "She's dead."

"I died years ago!" Kelly panted in her heap of pain, "If any of you had cared enough to notice!"

MJ had no regrets, sticking her hand out to hike the woman into the air with her mind, her scream doubling.

Damon couldn't help but nod, "I've missed you."

"I did worse to you for Caroline," MJ felt the fire, reminding the world that she was a spirit, something flickering the longer she held a spell, "You get one day back on earth?"

Her first clenched, Kelly's body flinching, Caroline stepping forward in panic, thanking God that the twins were still in the bathroom, and that none of the guests would remember a thing.

"You decide to torment a wedding?"

"I was returning a favour," Kelly forced out, "I – "

MJ twisted her wrists, and Kelly's eyes began to pour blood.

"I don't owe you anything."

"No," MJ stood directly behind her, "But I can damn you to something worse than hell."

Was that true?

"Why are you here?"

"Katherine."

The only word to have Damon directly in front of her, Stefan and Caroline tensing, MJ's hands on either side of Kelly's body as she was released back to kneeling on the floor. For a second she looked at Matt. He was just staring at his mother, as the reality of the situation finally hit.

She was dead.

His mother was dead.

"This entire town forgot about me," She hissed, looking exactly at him, "Only Katherine gave a damn."

Damon gripped her head, "Katherine doesn't care about anyone."

"She saw how I was suffering – "

Each word had the vampire holding her tighter, creating chokes and spit.

" – She knew I didn't belong in hell!"

MJ let her hand grab Kelly's scalp, yanking back until the woman screamed, "Where is she?"

"I have no idea!" Kelly had the nerve to laugh, only to choke, Damon's hand actually loosening, "I've been too busy..."

Her body hurled, blood exploding across the dance floor, her lips stained black, both Damon and MJ stepping back to avoid it landing on their shoes.

"...Making the gas leak."

"Oh my god," Caroline spun to Ric.

"The girls," He took off.

"Bonnie!" MJ bounded to the exit too, "BON!"

"Did you really think you could play Katherine Pierce?"

Maybe it was the wedding dress, but MJ passed Caroline, Ric just behind them, the glowing lights of the marquis turning it's sides translucent, officially the ball of safety in the night. The lights in the bushes, and wrapped around stairwells, and strung between the pillars now a taunt, pyres waiting, and waiting, and -

Glass shards shot out as yellow and orange billowed through the building, MJ's scream cut off as the air was sucked from her lungs, sparks taking over her skin, knocking her to her knees. She was the closest, Ric and Caroline, Tyler and Stefan seconds behind, forced to watch as she burst into a column of fire, alongside the house.

MJ burnt to dust before them.

"NO!" Ric fell to his knees, staring at the now empty spot, then the house, entire body trembling as Caroline fell back in the blast, arms smacking into cobblestones, "No – no – "

It wasn't just about MJ.

MJ was the sign.

Her foothold came from The Twins – from their magic – if MJ was gone, in a burst of fire, that meant –

"It's okay," Bonnie was whispering, "We're okay."

The girls were holding her hands tightly.

"Whatever you guys are doing?" She stared around in awe, "Keep doing it."

As everything turned red, a barrier seemed to form around the three witches, Josie and Lizzie meeting her eyes and trying to nod.

"We...we – "

"You have to keep moving, love," Enzo's face was among the fire, "You'll die if you stay here."

"I don't know how they're even doing this," She held on to their tiny hands, "Enzo?"

A roar came, forcing them to step forwards as it battered into the barrier, and the girls began to sway, sweat on their foreheads, coughs only getting louder. They may have been kept alive for a moment, but whether they stayed that way?

Josie stumbled, Bonnie's hand pulling her back, the barrier around them seeming to grow for just a second, allowing the ghosts eyes to go wide.

"They're siphoning directly from you!"

"But," Bonnie hunched as she coughed, "I don't have any magic?"

"Of course you do," Enzo repeated what he'd been telling her for days, "How else have you been able to stay connected to me?"

His body seemed to merge with the flames, only bringing tears to her eyes.

How were you meant to watch someone you loved burn?

How was he standing there, watching her, able to sound so excited?

"Psychic power is still magic!"

"But it's you!"

"Let them siphon you, Bonnie," He sounded like a man discovering electricity for the first time, "Tell them to use the magic to save you."

"No!"

The Twins seemed to twist her wrist, another cough – another stumble of their feet as something overhead creaked –

The ceiling crashed, Bonnie forced to step towards the next round of flames, the ones that trapped Enzo's body in a different world. He could stand among the fire. There was nothing to burn once one was truly dead.

"You – "

"Look," Enzo shook his head, "I know that you think we'll be parted forever if you let go of me now, but I believe the opposite."

Her head couldn't help but tilt while looking at him.

"I believe that part of us will always be with each other," He smiled, "And, in that, we will find peace."

She sniffed, only to smell the smoke trying to fill her lungs.

"You will find peace, Bonnie," Enzo understood the risk he was taking, "But, to do that, you need to fight."

He was dead.

"And, you need to live."

Maybe not everyone who died became selfish because of it.

Maybe, not all of them, fought to come back.

Perhaps, the lucky few, found genuine peace.

"Please, Bonnie."

She was trembling, body slowly starting to shut down, as spots filled her vision.

"Bonnie, you know in your heart that this is right," He pleaded, "Do it now. Use your magic - Show them how to do the spell."

She gasped in, choking back her sob.

"Do what I do, okay," She hoisted the girls up slightly, "Say these words."

Her eyes locked with Enzo, seeing how he smiled.

Seeing, how, even as her eyes welled, his face filled with pride.

"Phasmatos Motus Incediaros."

The Twins had been taught a similar pronunciation the day before.

"Phasmatos Motus Incediaros."

"Live your life, Bonnie Bennett."

"Phasmatos Motus Incediaros."

"All of it."

"Phasmatos Motus Incediaros."

"Promise me."

"I promise," She begged her body not to cry, "I love you."

"Phasmatos Motus Incediaros."

"I love you."

"Phasmatos Motus Incediaros."

As power pulled from her body, those flames flickered stronger, and Bonnie did not let herself blink. She would not be the reason he went away. She would just watch, as light poured through his body, coming directly for her.

"Phasmatos Motus Incediaros."

The girl's lifted their hands.

"Phasmatos Motus Incediaros."

The heat raced across their skin, and through their hair, battling to fill their eyes, only to be shoved forward. Back at the chimney. Letting them blast smoke, and debris, up, and away, and through the shoot, into the night sky.

"Phasmatos Motus Incediaros."

They stepped onto the grassy lawn, the house a soot-filled mess behind them, coughing out their lungs, smoke pouring around them.

Caroline shrieked out of Stefan's arms to tackle them with a hug, The Twins running straight for their father. The four held tight, tears clear, the girls just snuggling closer as Stefan breathed out, watching on. Seeing the relief on his wife's face. The peace.

"Daddy."

"Mummy."

"Oh my god," Ric gasped in, "You're okay."

"My babies," Caroline's hand were on their bodies, "You're – you – "

"They're okay," He sobbed, "But – "

Bonnie stared through the crowd, the tears in Tyler's eyes, "Where's MJ?"

"She cast a spell on the girls!" Ric couldn't help but yell, "She said nothing could hurt them, but then she – she vanished."

Bonnie froze.

They'd siphoned her – they'd taken magic – they'd proved magic was still inside of her, but the thing that had gotten them out?

The protective bubble?

MJ.

Bonnie Bennett had once again been tricked into realising her own power through a spell MJ had cast, without her even knowing it. Of course the entire ordeal had somehow involved fire.

"But..." She shook her head, "That only keeps them safe."

The girls had kept her safe.

"They were using their magic," Caroline's voice broke, "You're all okay."

But using magic meant MJ had lost her foothold. Any guilt that realisation was causing the witch, having lost Enzo and MJ at once, vanished, Tyler turning around sharply as Kelly Donavon's laugh cut through the air. Damon had tied her to a chair to finish his interrogation, Matt standing just behind him.

"You never had to bully me," She taunted, "She wanted me to let you know."

The black blood down her chin made her skin seem paler.

"Katherine's gonna burn down Mystic Falls."

Maybe dustier was the right word.

Her skin looked dusty white.

Like her body was in a coffin somewhere, collecting dust, waiting to fall into itself, officially decomposed.

"With hellfire."

Matt's face was stuck, flipping between grief, and rage, and back again, and a million other things as Kelly seemed to revel in finally having his attention.

"Tonight."

"She's talking about the bell," Matt realised, "Even if Katherine rings the bell, she can't create hellfire."

He couldn't look at her a second longer, turning and letting his volume rise.

"Only someone from the Maxwell bloodline can! And dad's not gonna do it, and neither am I."

"Oh," She let her tone fall flat, "Then it's a good thing you weren't an only child."

"Except," Damon pointed, "Vicki's dead as a doornail."

"She was," Kelly taunted, "Until my son opened up a portal to hell and let some people out."

The sky thundered.

"There's Vicki."

It was like the chiming sound could now vibrate through all of their bones.

"Right on time."

It hit again, and Bonnie lurched forward, gripping her head, Stefan the first to reach her.

"Bonnie!" Caroline shoved to her feet, "Bon – "

But the woman collapsed before any of them could even try and understand, blood splatting further over the dance floor, Kelly falling through the ropes as everything inside of her turned to mush.

RINNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

"I'M SICK OF THIS!"

MJ had figured this out once already, projecting the words like the opening to a musical number as Cade's bell seemed to take over the city, gripping the steps up to the now extinguished house, mouth falling open.

"I will literally sing curses!" She matched the note, "Incredibly unholy!"

She didn't need to hold it, she'd learnt from Cade that it could change – she could use scales, as long as she didn't sing anything out of tune, or too gratingly different.

"This system is flawed!" MJ projected like the bird she'd always been, letting her voice tremor slightly to make the debacle more interesting, "Clashing notes have their place."

In jazz, especially.

"I might make a case."

Thank god her mother had been a music teacher, as her body slowly loosened, allowing her to find her feet, turning towards the twins.

"How does the universe know, if I've slipped up a note," She forced herself to start a vocal run, "Or, simply have too high a standard."

She held the last word to prove a point, hand whipping up and round to end it, a pulse whipping out as the next ring began in time with it, flowing through MJ's being like a bridge, built to just the right frequency to withstand an earthquake.

"Come on," She let herself speak, staring at Bonnie, "Lizzie?"

The girls were being ferried away.

"Josie!"

Away from the body, and away from the house, Ric holding on to their arms tightly, knowing another body was tucked inside the marquis, meaning the car park was their only way out.

"Dammit."

So much for being worried they'd end up haunted by her.

"Bonnie!" MJ fell to her knees, watching over her collapsed form, "Bonnie Bennett, you are not allowed to start reacting to that thing!"

There was definitely a break between swings this time.

"Only dead things react!"

Stefan started to panic, his hands intertwined, pumping on her chest, drawing on any medical knowledge he could still remember.

"What happened?" Caroline was holding back more tears, "She was fine!"

"The magic must've been too much," Stefan was shaking his head, "If MJ's spell was only on the twins – "

"Come on Bonnie," Caroline bit her wrist, "Wake up."

"If it can affect you," MJ reasoned, "That means you can hear me, Bon."

She positioned herself by Bonnie's head as Stefan and Caroline tried to coax her back to life.

"It means you're like me."

Her hands moved to Bonnie's temples, trying to a grip, still singing.

"It means..."

Her eyes locked on the entrance to the marquis, where Tyler was grabbing Matt's shoulder as he stormed out, metal gleaming on his finger.

His moonlight ring.

"Dude!" Tyler's head snapped between Damon inside, Matt racing towards the car park, and Stefan and Caorline over Bonnie's body, "Did she just say Vicki?"

He was chasing after Matt.

The one way that had seemingly let MJ's power bleed into the real world was chasing after Matt Donavon, whose mother was apparently dead, and his dead sister was also running around somewhere! Because, of course she was! They knew Vicki had been ripped into the sky. And, they knew Vicki had tried to come back multiple times.

Bonnie.

MJ stared down at her friend as Caroline and Stefan's words became murky.

She couldn't quite press into her, fingers sinking through flesh, but the fact she could make even a rubbery contact?

"Bon..." MJ shut her eyes, "You are not allowed to die today."

She begged the universe to let the half-contact be enough.

She begged to feel fire in her veins, or arms, or any rush or power against any inch of skin, even if the only way to burn was through her eyes.

MJ forced herself to hum.

The bell may not be ringing every five seconds, but it had been hit, and MJ had finally worked out how to make it flow through her. If she was in a psychic dimension, she had to be able to hijack the power of Cade's bell tied to find Bonnie's.

"Zhēng Abiertos Me Llevará."

Each word was sung.

Cade wasn't a true Floare, so wherever he'd ended up wasn't as simple as the Floare Gate, and yet, MJ had found him.

She'd let herself return to her roots; of dancing around fires, and plucking on strings, and letting her voice create a tune the wind would carry through every tree.

"Fantasma Després Imagen."

She'd combined three spells into something new, and she'd drawn out his soul.

"Convoca Si Fantomă."

If Bonnie had collapsed into her own dimension, then, surely, MJ could use this spell to break in?

"Apel Mie Arunca Voalul."

Surely, if MJ could reach 'The Devil,' she could find her friend.

"Descanso Entre Vivos."

Even if MJ had spent four years behind some glass wall between dimensions, she'd been released! She'd been burnt back to life! Cade had stuck his hand around her throat, forced hellfire through her body, and clicked her soul back into place.

"Puetare Del Min."

Every chime of the tuning fork had left her soul vibrating back into formation, until the ancestral spell that had torn her apart was nothing but a memory.

Cade had made the point.

He couldn't take a shredded soul, because that soul hadn't technically existed anymore. He'd gifted hers back together, only to find her still out of reach, and he'd wasted time and power trying to create cracks in a reality crafted just for MJ. A reality he now claimed was built entirely out of the witches she thought she'd blown up.

"Bù Zài Lā Gěi."

Were those gaps good things?

Did they mean the spirits of New Orleans were breaking away and finding rest?

Or did it mean Cade had finally dragged them to hell?

"Zhēng Abiertos Me Llevará."

Either way, it meant there were beams of white, slowly forming around her as Caroline and Stefan seemed to melt into the light, leaving MJ with nothing but Bonnie's body. Each shadow seemed to sink, adding curves to the world, sanding the stairs into a half-slope, or a ditch, abandoning them at the bottom of it, water appearing in her ears.

Why was it water?

MJ was the fire. The heath.

Hestia on Olympus.

Regent-Jo had used the term, and gods, MJ wished it were true. It was beautiful. For a moment, she'd been seen so clearly by a woman who was technically a stranger. A woman who'd challenged her, and guided her, and appeared in the afterlife to save her once more, only for Sophie to have implied she'd been punished for it.

Oh, to be a Greek God.

MJ couldn't help but think her life fitted the style of one of their tragedies.

"Fantasma Després Imagen."

In death, she didn't have magic.

"Convoca Si Fantomă."

In death, she was forced to face the light.

"Apel Mie Arunca Voalul."

In death, she could not save her friends.

The dead simply watched.

They hoped for the best.

They let their minds melt into insanity as the living took everything they'd built and rebranded it to fit the actions they wanted to take anyway.

...Was MJ officially a bitter spirit?

"Descanso Entre Vivos."

How could she not be?

"Puetare Del Min."

Bonnie Bennett was lying on the floor, and as MJ reached out?

As her skin pushed MJ's fingers out?

As she actually touched her temples, pressure between the two bodies, a warmth racing up her arms?

"Bù Zài Lā Gěi."

"It's been a while."

Cold spread down MJ's back, as she opened her eyes to a nearly familiar voice and the void she now called home.

There was a river.

A real river.

Through the white abyss was a racing path, filled with liquid, more clear than blue, shining grey pebbles at the bottom – not just pebbles, but necklaces, and buttons, and coins, and – and...faces?

As MJ stared into it, she swore the water blinked.

She swore there was an eyebrow, and a strand of hair, and a collar of a shirt, and parting lips, desperately opening as her song came to a halt, a man sitting on the other side of the water. His feet were bare, dangling into the stream, the suit trousers pulled up to his knees, splashes of darkness showing what had bounced up to the fabric anyway.

"Careful," He gleamed, voice so hypnotizingly deep, "We'd hate to repeat history here."

The almost familiar cane was abandoned to the side of the river, showing the bumps that had formed, turning the flat surface uneven.

"Papa Legba stands at the pier," MJ didn't see anything that looked like a boat, "Hades has a river filled with souls."

"Perhaps," Samedi kicked the water up, "We are all in the same story."

MJ curled her lips in.

"Then again," His eyes gleamed, "Most would consider it quite sacrilegious to imply so."

Despite the more casual demeanour of his lower half, toes dipped so carefully into the water, he still wore a top hat on his head, purple suit jacket draped to the side, by the cane, the black shirt sleeves rolled up, like he was a man, on a fishing boat, waiting for that first ripple of a catch.

Suddenly, his head snapped to the left, staring down the stream.

MJ couldn't help but creep closer.

"Brigitte!" He called, a smile in his eyes, "My darling..."

He gazed at the water, tilting his head, letting this hand lift, as MJ's eyes dropped, once again meeting a pair, staring directly back at her.

Trying to speak.

Trying to scream.

"It's getting late, my love."

"You used Cade's name."

"I did," His hand drifted back, caressing a ground that MJ couldn't see, "It seems neither of us won the war for souls."

"You haven't come looking for me."

"Why would I?" He pointed his pearly smile to the sky, "You found me."

MJ narrowed her eyes.

"You chose this, Mira," He finally looked at her again, "You were offered peace."

She watched the face in the water open its mouth, only to choke, short hair yanked about by the current as it began to foam.

"Now your fate hangs with the living."

Gods, how terrifying that was.

No.

The living were good – the living were the priority, MJ would not be tricked into sympathising with the ancestors motivations! She didn't want to take over, she just wanted to live – dammit, Genevieve – she just –

"I am intrigued to see your immortality," He scooped up some water into his hands, "Most, in your position, are controlled by memory, but your name?"

His chuckle was low, spreading through the floor of the world, until green grass began to poke along the river bend, MJ's eyes locked on it.

"MiMi Pasare."

The water was washed over his face as he said it.

"Many of us exist out here," Samedi lifted his hand, air forcing her head up to look at him, "We cling on, thanks to those memories."

MJ's mind raced.

"My people may struggle, but they never truly forget."

Bonnie said that Tia had problems with her magic.

"They fight, and they survive, while the people closer to your kind?" His expression was openly bitter, "They like to erase."

As his hand moved, a cigar appeared between his fingers, pressed to his lips.

"Whether it be their own mistakes, or others entire identities."

Was MJ on to something with her theory of forgotten Floare practises?

"At least, for most of us," He puffed out, "We were born to exist in the shadows of history, tucked among the living until the living no longer exist to hold us there."

The smell of tobacco entered her nose, and for the first time in her life, it was appealing.

Because, it was him.

The Lwa you were not meant to trust, who buried your grave, and partied through the night, and poured drink down your throat until you traded away something you never meant to.

"You, however," He brushed the end of his cigar through the ground, and the grass seemed to straighten up in response, "Your spirit?"

MJ let herself sink to her knees, running her hands through that grass.

"You will never truly be allowed to fade."

Her body needed him to release another breath.

She needed that smoke in her lungs.

Her head was bobbing back, as her fingers threaded into the soft greenery, like tequila had been shoved into her veins, leaving physical contact as the only real method of communication.

"Not because you are like me," His feet came to sit on the grass, body stretched to the side, "Not even because of your true name."

MiMi Pasare.

The magical internet.

An online archine, and library, and locations system, and question board.

"What happens to a mortal spirit when their memory may never die?"

Was that why she'd been trapped?

Did death not know what to do with her?

She wasn't a god, she wasn't welcome to travel between life and death – or even, death and death.

"When the memory that lingers isn't even truly them?"

"You tell me," MJ snapped out of the trace, eyes fixed on his relaxed state, "Silas was worshipped like a god for two millennia."

"Then erased in a heartbeat," He watched how her hands clutched the strands, "Showed to be just a man."

"By me," MJ pulled, desperate to see mud, "Do you want the same fate?"

"I am a real god," He reminded her, "There is only one force that can erase me."

"When human life finally dies."

He tipped his hat down, "When human belief is erased."

Why was everything he said so confusing?

If she was stuck as a spirit for one hundred years, did she have to start speaking like that.

Was that, like, part of the deal?

The dead had to be cryptic?

"Erased," MJ rested against her ankles, "You keep saying that."

"Humans have only gotten dumber," He shrugged, "You need more obvious hints."

"Or you could just speak more clearly."

"You clearly enjoy the challenge."

"Floare deities," MJ pitched it, "We had deities, just like you, and they exist somewhere, faded away, almost forgotten, and it's because of whatever happened to the Balkan Heretics."

Samedi pushed his hat back.

"If you help me," She forced herself to sound steady, "I can help you."

There was a wind chime somewhere in the distance.

"I cannot answer your question," Samedi stood up slowly, placing the cigar between his teeth, "I do not know."

"You're a deity – "

"Legba holds knowledge," He waved his hand, jacket flying into it, "And, I am no Floare."

"But – "

"You are the only one I am interested in," He mused, "And, honestly?"

As it was pulled around his body, it created shape, extenuating his hips, drawing the eyes to his exposed chest, those shirt buttons not even existing to be done up beyond half way.

"That is less about you, and more surrounding what you represent to my world."

The more his spoke, the more nasally he became.

"If you have found a way to live forever?" He laughed once more, "To be a name the world may never forget?"

Was that truly her fate?

"Now, now, my darling," His foot pushed on one end of his cane, the top flying into his hand, pointing across the river, towards her, "That changes the definition of what it means to be a god."

MJ had claimed to control the universe.

She'd saved Finn – she'd saved Cami, and Maci, and so many others.

Then, it had reminded her, no one could make that claim for free.

She was not a god, she was Icarus.

"And there are many others out there," He tossed his cane to his other hand, grinning, "Who, will, not, like, that, at all."

He tapped the cane twice on the ground, the grass twitching up.

"Though, it might enable you to answer your own questions," He was too proud of his own evasiveness, "It might make you brave enough to remember beyond your age."

MJ closed her eyes, and focused on the grass.

"It might even be a solution to a problem we all fear."

The river moved so gently, no screams of loss to accompany the faces trapped within it.

"Do you realise that a piece of my wife still sings in your soul?"

Her eyes snapped open, and Samedi was in front of her, a hand on her chin, tilting it up as she knelt in the grass he had left her.

"You must realise that your spell did not go as intended."

"The spirits are here," MJ whispered, "Including the ones trapped in the book?"

Samedi let go, pushing her face to the side, letting her fall back as he did so.

"I'm sorry?"

He turned away.

"I didn't even realise she was in there, and I certainly don't think she's somewhere in me?"

"I lie."

MJ's voice vanished.

"The only Floare I am actually interested in, is the little girl I'm yet to meet."

Girl.

She'd accidentally said 'girl' a few too many times considering Clio's declaration of a son – but what had happened to Clio? Surely, Bonnie wasn't actually the strongest chord to MJ. Surely, Clio, as a Pethane, was the automatic way to bring her back?

Papa Legba had a referred to her child as a girl too...

"I mean, Pasare," He used the word jokingly, leaning closer to finally pull the cigar back out, "When was the last time you truly acted as a Floare?"

As MJ breathed in the smoke, her eyes couldn't help but shut –

He was gone.

Leaving nothing but the whisps of grey, fading to nothing, wrapping around each other in one final effort until it looked like a skull.

MJ leant forward, carefully breathing out over it.

The design melted into nothing.

Bonnie's body was before her kneeling form, surrounded by the grass, feet dangling just before the river's edge. Had it always been there? It couldn't have? MJ had walked closer – Samedi had been standing there – she'd appeared?

"She's not dead," MJ stared at her feet, "She can't be dead."

Caroline had fed her blood!

"If she was dead, she'd be in the water."

Why did it have to be water?

If it was a river of fire, MJ would be having a field day. She'd dive right in, probably with very little hesitation, trying to work out if it was the one from the Greek Myth, or something dripping in from Cade's Hell – and then, she'd panic about Bonnie. She'd crave a power boost. And she'd let herself become one with the blaze.

Then again, the Bayou was water. MJ had made her final stand against the spirits in the river by her grove, the bayou wrapped around her limbs – fire bursting out of it.

"Goddammit, MJ," She closed her eyes, "Don't do that."

She'd literally just spoken to Tyler about not becoming her mother.

"We are not going to try standing in the cursed dead people water."

Not while pregnant.

Could she make her daughter more death-kissed?

Was that something you passed on?

MJ had been tainted despite not being born yet, so surely her daughter would be to? If not from MJ's current deceased state, then from the water – but, if she was already death-kissed, what was there to lose?

No.

She'd officially said the words.

She was keeping the baby.

And she was going to keep it safe. And be a good mother. And she wasn't going to die on her, or abandon her, or hide her origins from her. She would teach her daughter magic. She wouldn't half teach it. She wouldn't only give one child the full scope of the lore. She would teach her how to be safe, and the history, and about all the silly rituals.

"Convoca și."

MJ pressed those blades of grass between her fingers, tilting her head back.

"Arunca Voalul."

There was no sun to worship, and if there were Floare deities, they seemed to be as ghostly as she was.

"Puetare Del Min."

But there was light. There was heat in her touch, and beneath the ground, the water starting to steam, turning the air thick, as the simple spell rolled over her tongue. The sky was blinding, and, if it wasn't for the white of the world, MJ might have found it beautiful. It was like sitting in an aeroplane. So high above everything else, you could pretend to be a bird, and bask in the beauty beneath you.

Did other people think like that?

It was like that first light, when you opened your eyes in the morning, and everything took a second to come into focus.

"Convoca și."

MJ's hands rolled from prickling green to Bonnie's temples.

"Arunca Voalul."

Like the current had come on land, and she was shaping it.

"Puetare Del Min."

Bonnie gasped up as MJ opened up eyes, a hand on her forehead.

The circle of land around them was no longer green, but it wasn't white either – it was the colour MJ had been begging for. Not mud. She hadn't actually drawn water into the air, and soaked the ground so thoroughly, in fact, she might've 'burnt' the water away. Beaneth both girls was brown and yellow remains, cracking between their fingers.

MJ had taken the life from the grass, and she'd pressed it into Bonnie.

When was the last time MJ had truly acted as a Floare?

Her relationship with the magic had changed so much after cracking the stone on that roof in Mystic Falls. It had only gotten worse when she'd stolen the power completely – and, that didn't even get into the prophecy claiming she'd destroy it all. She hadn't. Ryos had completed the ritual, her body had let the power go, and everything was right.

Then, she'd died.

Samedi had been the one to ask her; what happens to a hero when their prophecy is complete?

What happens to a hero when prophecy isn't real?

What happens, when the hero isn't actually a hero at all.

"You're okay?" MJ's arms swung over Bonnie's shoulders, hugging her from behind, no bother for the sharp stinging of dry grass beneath her knees, "You're gonna be okay."

"Am I?" Bonnie's hand just pointed.

While the world now seemed full of grass, a mix of stems poking up among it all, the river still sat between them, and, on the other side?

"Elena?"

"Bonnie?" Elena's voice sent a chime through the world, trees bursting from the ground, "MJ?"

They all jumped as sun shined through patterns of leaves, and stretches of bark –

Okay, why the hell was MJ's spiritual plane responding to Elena and not her?

How on earth was that fair?

"Elena!" Bonnie went to run, MJ's arm just about catching her before she pelted into the river.

While the comforting autumnal colours painted Mystic Falls around them, the patch of dry grass behind Bonnie's awakened state was still there.

As was the river.

Flaring pink light blurred their vision, casting the silver of their bridesmaids dresses in a new tone, MJ's mind suddenly able to understand the appeal, She'd never been loyal to one metal tone, but the lack of warmth in silver did make it her least favourite – not the time! They were two women, in shining dresses, surrounded by yellowing leaves, and fresh bushes, facing a friend Bonnie had thought she'd never see again.

"But..." Bonnie's eyes met the rivers, "...Is that..."

"A river of death," MJ confirmed, "I'm starting to think that the word 'the' should be banned from all nouns from now on."

"What's happening?" Elena was breathless, rubbing her eyes, dressed in a short gown, the perfect blend of black velvet and deep blue, reminding MJ of just how beautiful she'd always been, "How – I...where am I?"

The face men went to war for.

"How are you here?" She stepped towards the river, "Bonnie – "

"Don't!" Both yelled back, just in time to catch her.

"You step in there, and you're dead," MJ explained, "Or, like, you might be able to come back, but I don't know how my mum did it."

If it even was the same one.

"Dead?" Elean's expression broke, "Dead."

Her hair was straight, and MJ couldn't remember if it was the same style as Alaric and Jo's wedding.

Was this even the real Elena?

Maybe Damon had changed what she was wearing in the coffin? Maybe he'd gotten bored and straightened her hair, or, who knew. Maybe there didn't have to be an answer. Maybe the mystery was actually part of the fun. The 'universe' changed Elena's hair and clothes, and wasn't that just neat x

"Please tell me you're not dead?" Her fingers started to tremble, "I – I didn't think – "

"I never thought I'd see you again," Bonnie finished.

"You can try jumping," MJ eyed up the flow, "We might be able to reach her."

"Please tell me you're not dead!"

"I'm not," Bonnie went stark, looking at MJ, "I'm not?"

"I don't think you are," She reasoned, "I realigned your soul."

Bonnie's eyes went wide in panic.

"You felt the bell ring," MJ reminded her, "It plays with souls."

"But, I'm not dead?"

"I don't think your dead," Her voice went up, "I'm not the god of it, I don't know!"

"MJ?" Elena's voice was low, "MJ."

"I, am, in fact," MJ pointed two fingers at her, "Dead."

"But – "

"Don't think about it too hard, I don't plan on staying this way."

"MJ," Bonnie stepped closer to her, body against her shoulder, "If you're dead, and you found me – "

"You can't be dead," Elena begged, "That's now how it's supposed to be."

She was eyeing up the river like she was willing to walk through it.

"Neither of you can die!"

MJ let her eyes drift up, to the oh-so-perfect forest, casting Elena's sleeping state like the world of a fairy tale. MJ knew she'd never be a fairy tale. She'd been taught from an incredibly young age that fairy stories, even if they originated in her country, would be given to the other girls.

"Not yet."

Was she really about to be insecure about who got the better death hallucination?

"You have to live!"

Baron Samedi, a literal deity, had just compared her to a god.

"Bonnie! You grow old! And have children."

Oh, the Elena Gilbert who had been willing to sacrifice everything to keep her friends safe.

MJ had missed her immensely.

Their eyes met, seeing the clear brown, a perfect warmish red mixed in the colour, creating a chocolatey glow against her olive skin.

"And grandchildren – "

"I'm okay," Bonnie promised her, "If I die?"

"Bon," MJ was shaking her head, "I will send you back."

"I can be with Enzo."

"No!" Elena pleaded, "This is wrong."

"Elena," Bonnie took MJ's hand, "I'm ready."

"Well," Enzo's voice appeared behind them, "I'm not."

MJ breathed out, "Enzo."

She couldn't stop herself from throwing her arms around him. Even if they'd seen each other in Bonnie's living room, they'd both been so focused on her, and on the fresh news of his death, that she hadn't actually had a chance to hug him. To feel his arms find her back, rubbing gently down.

"You're not gone?" Bonnie was staring at him in shock, "I thought..."

"I'm sorry, love," Enzo pulled out of MJ's hold, offering a hand to Bonnie, "But it's not your time."

As she reached for his fingers, she slipped through them, the forest dissolving into nothing, replaced by the white sky and grassy planes MJ was used to.

"MJ?" Elena's panicked scream was nothing but a breeze.

Enzo's arm? Gone.

She was alone.

Bonnie shot up, into Caroline's arms as Stefan and she were still crouched over her body, panting breaths desperate for someone to hold.

"Hey," Stefan breathed out in relief, "You're okay."

"I saw her," Bonnie whispered into Caroline's neck, "I saw Elena."

Her eyes locked with Stefan's, his lips twitching down, not liking what that meant.

"And," She slowly pulled out of Caroline's hold, "I saw MJ."

The couple shared a concerned look.

"I can find her."

She could find Enzo.

"If she found me, I can find her, and if I can find her?"

Despite being on the steps up to an almost burnt down house, Bonnie was scrambling to her feet, only to sway, stumbling back, Caroline just moving fast enough to catch her.

"I can bring her back."

"Bonnie..."

"I..."

"Come on," Caroline held her steady, "We need to get you inside."

"But – "

"You can't find MJ, if you can barely stand."

A very true fact.

But, maybe MJ didn't need to be found.

MJ let herself sink to her knees, back in the centre of the now dead grass, carefully plucking at each blade to watch how it withered in her hand. Floare magic was beautiful. It was about nature. And yet, it stole from nature, leading it to die. Sure, when the spells were performed by a group, it didn't have that affect, and, the Floare always tended to the land, leaving it shinier than when they arrived, but...

Perhaps, that was why Kol had fit in with them.

For all of the Essí and Aonso pacifist nature, they were a tribe coated in death.

"Montre Páre M Spíti Lanmo."

She was the daughter of a Floare.

"Inger Deíxe Man Thánato Khere."

She was born on New Orleans soil, the elder to the French Quarter Coven, the intended sacrifice of blood to reignite their power, and the true possessor of The Verite Nwa.

"Sikav Mande Le Muerte."

She was the woman who broke the hybrid curse.

The woman who discovered how to make more hybrids.

The first public, remembered, hybrid witch.

"Zavedi Páre Me U Spíti Doma."

MJ had destroyed The Other Side, and the ancestral plane, and she had enjoyed doing it. Well, maybe 'enjoyed' was the wrong word for The Other Side, but she'd admitted to Kol that a dark part of her had loved watching The Travellers burn.

It was wrong. They'd just wanted to break a curse.

But, after decades of Floare war, she had ended it.

"Pokazhi Deíxe Mi Thánato Mennen."

Perhaps it felt twisted that Elena Gilbert got to rest in an idyllic forest, like sleeping beauty, waiting for her Prince, but the honest truth, was, MJ would never be a Fairy Tale.

"M Lakay Ou Smurtta."

She was a myth; the legend.

New folklore.

And, if that meant she needed to create a new spell to find her way out of the afterlife?

"Inger Deíxe Man Thánato Khere."

There had to be a way.

"Sikav Mande Le Muerte."

If the white abyss was spawning trees?

If Samedi could come for an afternoon swim?

Hell! If Cade's after image could be formed? There were cracks – There were other places to die – there was a way to the realm of the living, and MJ could find it. Like; she was the twelfth death in an Expression Triangle, and Expression was pure willpower. If the power hadn't actually destroyed the ancestral plane, it was still in her, and if that was true? Couldn't she just drop the veil herself?

"Zavedi Páre Me U Spíti Doma."

"There's got to be something we're missing," Stefan followed Damon through the door of the Salvatore House, freshly returned from a Vicki Donovon confrontation.

The eldest had thrown her out of the clock tower, and she'd respawned, the spirits of Hell able to pass through realms freely. Honestly, they were somewhat lucky the only people abusing that power were their enemies, assuming that every terrible person had truly ended up in Cade's Hell. Or, maybe that was part of it all. Katherine Pierce had taken over, and she was only letting their demons back out to play.

"Nope," Damon fumed towards the living room, "It's Katherine."

They were still in their suits, tie's done up, the wedding band fresh on Stefan's finger.

"She played the long game, and finally beat us."

Stefan was glancing around at all the lights, warm yellow, turned on, glowing above portraits, and among bookcases. Their red furnished house was meant to feel cozy, and it certainly felt more lived in than the abandoned and pristine Lockwood Mansion.

"And!" Damon laughed at himself, "We don't even have MJ to distract her."

"Bonnie's working on that."

"Working on that?" Damon spun around, just before entering the living room, his back to the odd addition he was yet to notice, "So, she's gonna find a way to destroy Hell, destroy Katherine, stop hellfire, and resurrect a spirit no one's been able to touch in years?"

Stefan's eyes blinked, staring at something over Damon's shoulder.

Slowly, the elder turned, taking in the coffin centrepiece, just beyond their sofa.

Elena's coffin.

"What?"

The sleek black box wasn't just propped up – it was open.

Instead of her familiar sleeping face, they were greeted by the satin white insides, carefully folded like intricate curtains for the dead, head pillow plumped.

"Earlier," Stefan hesitated, "Bonnie's heart stopped."

Damon's body was twisting, desperately trying to look between the coffin, and his dazed younger brother.

"She said she saw Elena."

"Damon?"

Out of nowhere stood a familiar face, appearing in front of the coffin, like she'd walked in as they'd both blinked. Her hair was straightened, the navy and black velvet dress hugging her figure, voice carrying that fresh croak of sleep.

As their eyes locked, her eyebrows lifted, as if in total awe for him.

"Elena," He stepped closer, barely able to whisper.

Her hand shot up in panic, "What's going on?"

They were able to watch as her eyes darted around in just the right way, like every light was a terrifying new sense she needed to rediscover after years of dreams.

"Is Bonnie – "

"Bonnie's okay," He promised her, "You're both okay."

She let out a hesitant laugh, "But – "

As the sound overtook her body, her arms trembled, eyes glimmering.

"I'm awake?"

"You're awake," He couldn't hold himself back any longer, bounding forward to throw his arms around her waist, lifting her up, letting her bury her face in his neck, unable to stop himself from spinning them as she moved to cup his face –

Damon Salvatore dropped her.

He pushed her shoulders, watching as she stumbled back, taking three steps away of his own.

"No, no, no, no – no."

Katherine dropped the delicacy from her tone, "Rude."

"You're got to be kidding me," Stefan's expression was flat, "Katherine."

"Hello, brothers," She let her smile form, walking straight to the nearest bottle of bourbon, and pouring a glass, "Am I drinking alone?"

The smile on her face was clear, revelling in the sound of the liquid guggling into the cup, popping the topper back in as neither responded to the offer.

Then, she turned to face them.

"Where's Elena?" Damon tried to sound unbothered.

"Dead," Katherine took a long swig of the drink, "A spiritual coma, if we're getting technical."

"Her physical body," Stefan rolled his eyes, stepping in between them, "Where is it?"

"That's for me to know, and for you to," She lifted a finger to wave it, "Dot, dot, dot."

Her half-snort at herself was not appreciated by the men.

"I hope you enjoyed the little show I put on for you. It's been a hoot watching you take on the devil," Her voiced turned deeper to mock them, "Especially considering I've had him wrapped around my finger since the minute I stepped into hell."

She pulled a face of disgust while topping up her glass again.

"Why did you think he wanted you?"

They honestly hadn't questioned it.

Well, no, they somewhat had, but they'd also been offering themselves up to stop him from going after The Twins, so it wasn't really like Cade had sort them out.

And if she was implying Sybil had done it, she'd grabbed Damon and Enzo, so...

"Because, I wanted you," She added a little cherry from the drinks plate, "Duh."

"All that power," Stefan spoke carefully, "And you sent him for us?"

She just dropped the cherry into her drink.

"Not MJ?"

Katherine's jaw clenched.

"You have to know she's dead – I mean, why else are you dead?"

"So, she finally snitched!" She mused, "Mira did save me, once."

"Still couldn't keep you out of hell though," Damon tried to play along with Stefan's antagonising, "She floated away, into the bright white light, leaving you – "

"Is that really the plan?" Katherine rolled her eyes, "Make me mad at her?"

"She abandoned you," He hissed, "She left you to Cade."

"Cade couldn't even find her," Katherine dismissed, "I had to recruit that little Gemini thing to sort it out."

Her drink was lifted up.

"He promised me a resurrection spell."

The brother's straightened up.

"Once again acting as a reminder, that, if you want something done right," She held the glass up, like a toast, "You do it yourself."

Another long swig.

"My life is tied to MJ's," She reminded them, "If she comes back..."

Damon's turn to let his eyes fill with panic.

"...I come back."

"That's not how it works," Stefan refused to take the bait, "The link would've severed."

"The only way to know for sure is to let it happen."

Stefan watched as Damon's hands twitched at the dilemma.

If it was true, even if they killed Katherine today, as long as Bonnie, or Kol, or any other witch, was trying to resurrect their friend, she might just waltz right back to life.

They could all be left to burn in hellfire, while she got a free ride home.

"MJ gave me my happy ending," Katherine's expression went flat, "And I didn't even get to live it out in full."

She'd spent five hundred years running.

She'd gotten just over two years back.

And, death hadn't come with a warning. In fact, it had come with false hope. They'd had this happen before, and Katherine had woken up. Sure, the first time, she'd simply collapsed without explanation, waking up the moment MJ's magic returned to the side of the living, even if she'd been in a prison world. This time?

"I died," She was dry, "Chocking on my own blood."

It was all so much worse.

"In my daughter's arms."

"And," Damon leered closer, "You deserved every second of it."

"If I don't deserve my happy ending," She spoke lowly, "Then neither do either of you."

Damon vamped into her face, smashing her glass behind them, seeming to forget his very human brother was there, only just out of the firing line.

"Damn it, Katherine!" His quickly reset to calm, lowing his voice to match hers, "Where is she?"

"It really is the perfect revenge," She didn't seem very scared, just leaning in closer, "At ten p.m., Mystic Falls will burn."

Stefan carefully walked towards the pair.

"Precious Elena will burn."

The dagger they'd created to kill her slipped down is suit jacket sleeve.

"And," Katherine gleamed, "I'm guessing one of you two Salvatores are going down with her."

Stefan paused, like he was just trying to place himself between the pair.

"Should I place my bets now – "

Stefan dug the blade straight through her chest, pointing down to find the heart, watching how her face didn't even react. She didn't scream, she didn't panic, she just choked as blood seemed to fill her mouth, body going limp –

Katherine Pierce collapsed to the floor.

"Well," Damon bit his cheek, "That shut her up."

As they stared down at her body, both brother's swore someone must've added clocks to their living room, the ticking unavoidably loud.

It was twenty-five minutes past nine.

Thirty-five minutes.

"We're running out of time," Stefan moved to the door, "We have to find Elena."

"Pokazhi Deíxe Mi Thánato Mennen."

Singing wasn't enough – MJ should've known it wouldn't be.

"M Lakay Ou Smurtta."

To be a Floare was not just to sing with the birds and the breeze.

It was to lay feathers across a circle, every stroke holding power. It was to carefully step between each segment – around each segment, weaving like a thread, until you'd built a tapestry, telling a story through tiny details.

A dance, almost tribal, celebrating who they truly were.

"Montre Páre M Spíti Lanmo."

If the spell actually worked, MJ would have to recreate it.

"Inger Deíxe Man Thánato Khere."

There would be parts that a member of the living would have to take. Even in a small circle, the way she moved from one foot to the other, would be rewritten. In the world of the living, the wind would brush through her fingers, turning her body into a paintbrush, as it filled in the blanks needed to coexist with her new plane of existence.

"Sikav Mande Le Muerte."

It's new-ness had to be why no one could find it.

"Zavedi Páre Me U Spíti Doma."

The spells would not exist yet.

"Pokazhi Deíxe Mi Thánato Mennen."

White began to flicker.

"M Lakay Ou Smurtta."

Like a broken bulb, in desperate need of replacement, a buzz just behind it, MJ's arms drifted up.

"Montre Páre M Spíti Lanmo."

Just because no one had written a spell to find her, did not mean she could not write one to find them. The biggest issue? MJ didn't have magic. But she had to have had magic! She'd found Bonnie –

Oh, gods, were her a Bonnie were having the same problem?

Bonnie thought she'd lost the ability to practise magic, and MJ knew there had to be more to the story. When it came to herself? She couldn't siphon her white abyss. That was fact. She also couldn't pull on nothing to create a spell. That was also true.

"Inger Deíxe Man Thánato Khere."

But she wasn't alone anymore.

"Sikav Mande Le Muerte."

There was grass under her feet, silver heels kicked aside.

"Zavedi Páre Me U Spíti Doma."

There was grass, then there was water – then there was something cobbled.

"Pokazhi Deíxe Mi Thánato Mennen."

Something that burned so hot, she wanted to scream –

"M Lakay Ou Smurtta."

MJ was ripped away, daring her eyes to open as she stared out a mirrored world, the Mystic Falls forest, once against around her, yet eerie, and abandoned, and cast in an oddly bright light. A burnt image. Not by fire, but by the whites in a photo editing app. Dragged all the way to one hundred, contrast alongside it, almost familiar –

"Montre Páre M Spíti Lanmo."

As she blinked, the world grew massive, granules of dirt sinking under spiking fingers?

Fingers?

Whatever MJ's arms were made of was not flesh, nor bone, but desperate to twitch behind her, rubbing together as the tiny body she now possessed could not speak. She carried the tune by letting the brittle wings brush together, behind her back, vibrating out.

"Inger Deíxe Man Thánato Khere."

She gasped in, back on two feet, standing outside a courtroom, her bridesmaid dress clinging to her body like a second skin.

Tick, tick, tick.

Smack.

A gavel hit the table, separated from her by two large wooden doors, sending shivers through her spine, a voice in her head chanting 'you're next.'

The doors creaked.

"Sikav Mande Le Muerte."

Sand appeared around her toes, warm and comforting, no hall waiting to evaluate her sins, just the face of a dog, on a man, holding an organ she was all too familiar with.

Blood leaked through his incredibly familiar fingers.

Golden scales appeared between them both, as he leant closer, scanning her face, letting the heart roll forward –

"Zavedi Páre Me U Spíti Doma."

MJ forced herself to keep chanting, sparking back into white light, and grass, and a river of faces, drowning in their own screams, finding new love for her younger self. That seventeen-year-old had never hesitated to be seen like this. She'd stood on a roof, drawing out chalk circles, dancing without a single person to do it with her. She'd charged up hills just to collapse into the fresh ground, roaring like a wolf, and naming owls.

Every animal had its own story to tell, so why shouldn't she name it.

MJ didn't think she'd become ashamed of those actions – she'd just matured. She'd just learnt that there were simpler ways to summon the Floare Gate. Quieter ways to embrace her heritage...Maybe Samedi had a point.

"Pokazhi Deíxe Mi Thánato Mennen."

For a year or two, she'd stopped slipping Spanish and Mandarin phrases into her life.

Sure, the justification was moving. MJ had gone to New Orleans, she couldn't expect strangers to understand how she worked, or what she was saying, especially is she was making it harder for them to do so...but also, like, teenaged-her hadn't cared about that.

Had she let herself forget how fun these things were?

"M Lakay Ou Smurtta."

Had she fallen into resentment of her mother's history?

Had she felt so unworthy of her father's native tongue?

MJ had spent a summer travelling as a Floare, and she'd never felt more at peace with who she truly was. Then, she'd returned to the city, and while the core lessons she'd learned stayed in her heart, the details had slipped away.

She hadn't thought hard enough to keep them.

...It had to be hard to fight for them after Ryos.

"Montre Páre M Spíti Lanmo."

Oh, her brother.

"Inger Deíxe Man Thánato Khere."

She'd used the term 'house of blood' when joking about the situation to Finn, trying to explain why her own identity honestly might haunt her child just as much as The Mikaelson's. It was a term she'd first heard in school ,in relation to a cursed family. The House of Atreus would never be remembered as Greek heroes – just, as a family lost in violence and revenge.

"Sikav Mande Le Muerte."

That dog was before her once more, MJ's mind waking up.

She was a multitasker, why wasn't she multitasking?

She could cast, and think, and a dog humanoid was placing a heart on a scale?

"Zavedi Páre Me U Spíti Doma."

Anubis?

"Pokazhi Deíxe Mi Thánato Mennen."

A hand appeared on her back, gripping the neckline of that silver dress and yanking back, the rush of water unmistakable as her attacker pulled her across the river.

"M Lakay Ou Smurtta."

MJ's back smacked into the pebbles, and coins, and lost pieces of ripped jeans, and dresses, spluttering in panic, only to be dropped back on her feet, back on the shore, staring at a very different room.

An entire chamber.

Before her was a man in a draped robe, tied over his left shoulder, drooping to rest on his right hip, the majority of his carved chest exposed. He sat in the centre of the room, a throne carved out of jagged stone, legs parted a concerning amount given his lack of attire, a horn-like crown placed carefully on his head, leaking red into the otherwise greyscale atrium.

As MJ let her eyes dart around the ornate columns holding up a ceiling too high to see, she noted the oddly warm fog just beyond each gap, gently creeping towards them.

"If you are here to claim Arcadius," His voice was familiar, "You are incredibly late."

Each word was spoken in a language MJ did not speak, even if she partly recognised it, mind somehow able to keep up.

"And, I am not in the mood to share him."

"Oh, there are so many jokes I could make about that sentence," She really scanned the face, "But I'm not entirely sure they would land."

It was the voice from the previous night. The booming power she'd been smacked into, with the skeletal trees, and clear message; she did not belong there. She was not one of his spirits. A man, in a Grecian robe, surrounded by styled columns, the yellow tints to the fog implying a world beyond their room, guarding a soul?

"Hades."