a/n: I hate this chapter, but I've also accepted that it's not my fault the TVD finale sucks lmao - MJ gets to have some fun (and make some 'controversial' choices mwhaha), remember to comment and vote xxxxx
- Bea

As Cade's bell rang through Mystic Falls, Tyler Lockwood would be lying if he claimed he didn't feel it. Something, shifting, under his skin. He wasn't a witch; he wasn't a ghost; no one else who'd died before seemed shaken by the vibrations rumbling through every building, ready to rupture, as civilians rushed from their home.

Another 'gas leak.' It was becoming the new 'animal attack.'

Luckily, Tyler could slip past the police with extraordinarily little questioning, traipsing up the bell tower...forcing himself to climb those stairs, knowing damn well what was waiting for him at the top. Waiting for him might've been the wrong phrase. Vicki Donavon wouldn't know he was in town; he highly doubted she expected to see him, and he highly doubted that she wanted to see him, especially after watching Matt's being deflate after talking to her.

The clockface was a glowing gold, usually a lighthouse in the night for its residents, now overseeing their departure, flashes of red and blue decorating the roads beneath it.

"Damn," Tyler couldn't help but pause in the doorway, "The Donovan's built that?"

He didn't mean to sound so surprised, but, even when he was on a mission for good, part of Tyler Lockwood would always be a douche-jock.

Vicki froze at his voice.

She stood, her hair a mess of heat-made curls, like she'd just raced out of a tornado's path. Matt had last seen her flying into the sky, but now, she'd finally landed, facing a bell her bloodline was entuned too. With each clang, it turned red, fading to orange, then yellow, like a flickering candle between them, pretending to be something gentle, hellfire bursting just below its surface.

"Why did everyone else's family get witch-shit?"

"You gonna claim you didn't benefit from 'witches' more than anyone else?" Vicki's voice was low, eyes piercing, "Hello, Tyler."

He only ever seemed to end up back in that town when it was falling to pieces.

"Did Matt really think you'd be able to stop me?"

"Matt explicitly told me to stay as far away from you as possible," He admitted, "He clearly forgot how 'well' that suggestion worked when my mum tried it."

Her lips almost turned up.

"You really wanna blow this place up?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Her voice grated, "Ty."

While he was slightly taller, football muscle evened out, skin sun-kissed from all the travelling, stumble a normal part of his face, she was trapped in the same skin she'd died in. Then again, she'd died a vampire. She would've stayed that age regardless.

Still.

Something about it sat in his stomach.

"I was stuck in hell, I end up here, and I realise they're pretty much the same."

"Then do it," He bobbed his head, "Good on you."

"...Get Matt out," She didn't understand what he was doing, "I know you never really cared about me, but if you cared about Matt? Get him out of here."

"This town's his home," Tyler reminded her, "He's not abandoning it."

"You're the future mayor of it," She rolled her eyes, "And you're claiming not to care."

"I left," He revealed, "And the only times I've ever looked back were when my friends really needed me."

Which, honestly, wasn't that often.

"Or..."

The pause was obvious, Vicki's expression dropping, "MJ."

"She forgave you."

Even in the silence, the hum of that bell's note hung in their ears.

"She made damn sure no one in this town could ever forget you," Tyler had listened to Kelly's spiral, "And then you tried to kill her for a cheap ride back."

"You don't get to judge me," Her eyes raged, "You don't know what it's like."

"I know it's probably a million times worse than you deserved."

"You – " She cut herself off as his response actually registered.

"You drugged MJ," He stepped closer, "Then dropped bleachers on her head."

Vicki swallowed, trying to clench her hand into a fist.

"And she still forgave you."

They'd seen Vicki again after that, the day they thought Katherine had died (the first time they thought she'd died); the calm before the storm that was Matt watching his sister ripped into oblivion.

"If she can do that," Tyler breathed in, "Is there any chance you can forgive me?"

Her arms flopped by her side, prepared to yell, stuck, staring at his white shirt and suit jacket, slightly crumbled sleeves showing that they'd been scrunched up to his elbows for too long.

"Crap," He winced, "I kinda meant to start with an 'I'm sorry.'"

Her lips parted.

"Then, I was gonna apologise for how many times I made you feel like shit," He added, "And called you names. And acted like..."

The worst version of himself.

"I'm not here to make you feel like that again," His head was shaking, "I mean, you're doing all this, so you don't have to go back to hell?"

"That's all this is," Her eyes were glistening, "I just wanna be gone."

"Do you want someone to stay with you until it happens?"

In one hand, she was still holding the rope, ready to ring the bell.

"I ditched you so many times," He let his shoulders drop, "I don't want you to 'die' alone."

Body, stuffed into a ditch, a storm dragging her back to them back then too.

"Thinking you deserved it."

The drops rolled down her cheeks slowly, "When the hell did you decide to be decent?"

"Call that my witch benefit."

She managed a half-laugh, "You'll die, Ty."

Unlike Kelly, Vicki hadn't wanted to make a scene of it.

"If you're in here, when it happens."

"I'll figure something out," He always seemed to.

Or, at least, the universe did. It was almost like there was someone writing the story of his life, and they really didn't want to let him die in some dumb way that didn't end up effecting the narrative at all.

"Or," He shifted, "You'll decide not to help Katherine."

Her guard jumped back up, "Tyler."

"You haven't been able to see anything from hell," He rushed out, "Right?"

"It's hot pokers in your eyes, as forces pull you apart, teeth scratching your bones, before Cade sticks you back together in the wrong order – "

"Your name rebuilt this town, Vicki."

Her voice vanished.

"MJ moved out too," Tyler needed her to know, "But her project? Victoria's Voices? It's still going; all the fundraisers, the donations, hell, they have a chunk of my inheritance to play with."

Because MJ had taken the half he'd given her and divided it between savings, investments, and a scheme meant to keep Carol's hope for Mystic Falls alive. But it hadn't originally been about Carol. It had been about Vicki, the girl deemed a waste of space druggie who'd never get out, paving the way for anyone who dreamed beyond a picket fence and a forest.

"A shit ton of vampires destroyed the place, and the people running your legacy were the ones to pull it back together," He stressed, "You wanna destroy that, Vicki?"

Her expression snarled, "What happened to getting where I was coming from?"

"I do!" He'd left for a reason, "If someone had given me a way to tear this place up a few years back, I wouldn't have hesitated!"

If it had happened when his mum had died? But Elena had burnt down her house when Jeremy died, while MJ had begged her not to. There was a reason Tyler had left his house in her name for so long. Even when MJ wasn't sure how to feel anymore, she understood the power of giving yourself time to figure it out.

The power of closing a door, remembering that it can always be reopened.

Tyler had always been the one to follow her advice the most, sometimes, even more than MJ had.

"I'm not the only person who needs to apologise to you Vicki, this whole town does. And it's tried – but you haven't been allowed to see it because some asshole decided you weren't good enough," He took her other hand, "You were, Vick."

She looked between his hand and the bell.

"You don't need redemption, or a second chance."

She hadn't been asking for one, she'd been asking for peace.

"You need an apology, so let us apologise – let us keep apologising!" He didn't care about Mystic Falls, "MJ already forgave you; nothing you did sent you to hell, if it's about good, and evil, and sins, and all that atonement crap."

"I wasn't a good person."

"You were a teenager," He felt strange saying it, "Being called a bad person by every other adult who could've done something to help."

Her legacy had been set by them.

"I'm so sorry, Vick," He repeated his main point, "And if you really wanna do this, I will just stay with you until it happens."

She took in that faded glow.

"But you don't have to. You can be better than who we all made you out to be," He reminded her, "You can be better than who your mum was."

Vicki tensed.

"And, in all honesty," Tyler felt his heart sting, "Be better than who my mum made you out to be."

Their little homemade Lockwood family hadn't just made Tyler a better person.

It had changed all of them.

It might've been his dad's death, but that was a morbid way of looking at it. It could've also been Mason's...There was a lot of darkness in the Lockwood family. But Tyler chose to see the light. He chose to see MJ. And he liked to think they'd given MJ some of her light too.

"Be better than who my mum was."

Slowly, Vicki moved towards their joined hand.

She took a half-step away from the bell, "People still know who I am?"

"Not only is your name on every event, but, after MJ died," He let his voice go quiet, "Elliot started making more public appearances; giving introduction talks about why they picked the name."

It was something him and MJ had apparently discussed when the Heretic rebuild started but had never found to time to do.

"Why you were important."

She was shaking her head, "What on earth could he say?"

"That you were hardworking," Tyler had found MJ's first draft among her things, "Loving. Unafraid to say what you thought, even if people would judge you for it."

Her tears may have already fallen, but the shine was still in her eyes.

"That you died unfairly, and that you deserved so much better."

"Vicki?" Peter's voice joined from the stairwell, Vicki clutching Tyler's hand as she stepped away from him.

"Daddy?"

"Hi, honey," He stared at her in awe, "I'm..."

"Fifteen years too late to be paternal?" Her tears were back, curling towards Tyler as he opened out his chest, an arm wrapping around her shoulders, "I – "

"I'm not here to talk you out of it."

"Tyler already did," She sobbed.

Matt appeared behind his dad, "What?"

"I don't wanna be a bad person," She trembled in his hold, "I never wanted to hurt anyone."

"You weren't a bad person, Vicki," Tyler repeated, "And I'm so sorry for ever making you feel like one."

"I'm – I'm," She hid her face in his chest as his arms took her in for a real hug, "You win, Matt."

"Great?" He looked slightly confused, "Except, I kinda need you to keep ringing it."

Vicki pulled back, Tyler looking at him, baffled.

"We didn't come to stop you," Peter repeated, "I just wanted to see my daughter one last time."

"Destroy hell, Vicki," Matt stressed, "Make sure you don't have to go back there."

Light filled her eyes.

"Bonnie has a plan."

She looked at Tyler, like his face might give away if it was all a trap.

"We'll be okay."

"You'll find peace, Vick," Tyler wished he could promise it, "I know you will."

"I don't think peace really exists anymore."

"Well," He didn't realise the power in his sentence, "I still believe in it."

Vicki held his look.

Then, she moved to her brother's hands, "You're sure Matty?"

"Ring the bell."

THE GUARDIAN ANGEL
I Was Feeling Epic

"That's who you are," MJ tried to focus on the man's eyes, "Right?"

It was only by looking into them, that she realised her mistake.

When she'd first appeared in the throne room, they'd been black, meaning, they were actually just brown, the lighting in the room gloomy, but now? With everything else so absent of colour, the ping of red in the stranger's irises was impossible to ignore.

While the horns on his crown were almost a faded variation of the colour, more ruby, or claret, the material a merge between leather and cloth, twisted into the shape of a bull, or, more likely, a minotaur; his eyes burned scarlet. Piercing through her entire being until it was all she could see. Screams filled her ears like the whistle of a train, the cold air clinging to her skin until she could do nothing but shiver as the clanging of coins tossed against pebbles seemed to slice across her arms –

MJ collapsed to her knees, palms smacking into the oddly smooth floors, taking a desperate breath in.

"Mortal..." He deemed, "...In a way."

Everything was a mix between a cavern and an atrium, almost like it was rebuilding itself in tandem with her racing mind. The longer she was there, the more real it became. An invisible designer trying to work out what would make her accept its place in reality the most.

"A vampire," MJ stared at the floor, trying not to feel sick as she desperately ignored the towering columns, carrying the ceiling too far into the sky, "A Heretic, if we're being specific."

Each of the five exits were masked by the faintest trace of fog, almost hissing away from her, the trickling of water beyond it.

"Do you know what that word means?"

Everything was made of rock, but not the kind that cut. No, that was reserved for the throne. Instead, it felt fresh against her hand, like a salty ocean wave had gently moulded it just for her. Each slip dip and curve left no inch of the room the same as the last, lines of erosion managing to create lines of something. MJ could almost picture it. The shades of stone. Like a knife in her mind as it refused to be anything but grey, yearning to prove her image was true.

How could it stain like water colour? How were some lines so sharp, others milky, merging into one? She knew what it should have looked like – she could still remember – she could still taste the living – it was enough to make her sob. Her tears could be that carving wave! She was an artist. She could figure it out.

What if she bled? Would that be enough to bring the colour back? Would that prove she could walk among the living once more?

"It comes from us."

MJ dared to let her head rise, watching as his crown grew into something more - face not only donned by horns, but covered by the bronze plates of a war helm, thick black curls tucked beneath it. He got colour? He got to saturate into existence?

"Hairetikos."

The cutouts made it almost impossible to look anywhere but his eyes.

That was the point.

She was meant to cower in his presence, and it was working, and she did. Not. Like. It.

"In your enforced tongue," He pushed up from his seat, "It means 'able to choose.'"

MJ begged her eyes to stop jumping back to his.

The second she heard the scratching scream at the top of her spine, she shoved her down, then up. She would not yield. She would not stare at the washed ground beneath her when the horns were right there...the horns...then the throne, then the floor, then the throne again...

As MJ blinked, the fog of the supposed exits growing stronger.

The throne...

It was in front of her.

He'd stood up from it.

But, if she could look at it, before her, why was there a second, itching into the corner of her eye? Or sitting on her shoulder, in her shadow – gods, MJ couldn't tell anymore.

"Funny how time has demonised that definition."

"The church demonised it," MJ couldn't stop herself from correcting him, "And I have a feeling it was probably combined with something to get to that point."

"Liturgical Latin."

"If I call you Pluto," She dared to return to her feet, limbs exhausted, "Do you glitch like a computer program."

As her body tried to move, that itch followed, forcing her to still.

"And start spouting instructions on how to build an empire."

Before he could respond, MJ practically jumped. Her back was now to him, which was probably an incredibly disrespectful thing to do, but she'd needed to try, frowning as nothing but the empty cavern faced her. That image of a second seat still hung just in sight, yet just out of it, next to the main throne.

"Sorry," His voice started to change, "Am I boring you?"

She bit her lip, forcing herself to turn back to him –

"Perhaps, darling," He appeared directly in front of her, "This face."

Kol Mikaelson.

Her Kol, in a white toga, loosely tied at his shoulder, draped down to his right hip, leaving half his chest exposed.

Less than a hair away from her.

"Would do a better job."

MJ couldn't stop herself from stepping closer, a hand cupping his check, scanning how the helmet shined over his skin, the familiar brown of his eyes so inviting. She knew it wasn't him. She knew it wasn't him. But, but, but! Cast in the helm? Wearing a devil's horns?

For a moment, her heart felt like it might start to beat, watching his lips say the word so easily.

Her word.

Her 'darling.'

His chest, her right hand on his side, tracing up skin, remembering how much she'd cried in that first hug. That first body against hers after four years of nothing. Her finger pads couldn't help but press into his abdomen, sliding up the seam of the robe, like the edge of the pillows they'd once shared.

"And," He mused, "I have your attention."

MJ snapped to her senses, shoving his shoulders away, "Get out of my head."

"ὅ τι ἐπιθυμεῖς."

She blinked, Kol's face still there.

"ὦ, οὐκ ἐννοεῖ ἡ μικρᾶς ἀνήρ νοῦς;" His head tilted in a way she knew too well, "ἔπεσεν ἀπὸ τῶν ῥιζῶν αὐτοῦ;"

He was using her own boyfriend to mock her.

"Stop it," MJ knew her expression was furious, "You dragged me here."

"You were screaming out," He reminded her, "You were looking for me."

"You thought I was looking for Cade," She shot daggers with her eyes, now that his red was gone, "Don't pretend to be all knowing."

"My spies are not as active as they used to," He didn't drop Kol's face, "But, now you are here?"

Floare minds were protected.

She'd been safe from witches, and psychics, and Travellers –

She hadn't been free from vampires. Until she'd turned, she may not have been compellable, but Kol had entered her mind enough times to prove it was possible.

"The dead are mine."

"You told me," Her voice lightened, "I was not meant to be here."

"You're not," He turned back to that stable throne, "The Floare have grown beyond their roots."

MJ blinked slowly.

This whole time, she'd been wondering about what secret gods of beyond her ancestors may have worshipped. She'd questioned original deities; she'd considered Lwa variations, yet she hadn't thought to blame the obvious? Silas and Qetsiyah had been Greek.

"I..."

"Don't feel guilt," Kol's smile was too playful, "It is the rite of the living."

Watching her boyfriend's body take a seat on a stone throne, that horned helmet hiding the soft brown hair she longed to touch...

"Perhaps," He lulled back, "They were never truly mine either."

MJ had mislabelled the colour in the fog; it wasn't yellow.

It was golden.

Colour.

To some, they may not understand the difference, but as she approached that throne, she let her head turn left, then right, taking in the mist, and how the edges blued, leading out into what should've been nothingness, but was actually water. Something golden among it. Glowing through the sky to reflect off those still pools. They were floating on water?

"Even Hecate," He watched how her faux breaths seemed to slow, "Once the living realise they may wield power, what do they need gods for?"

"Order?" MJ couldn't help but relax; it was Kol's voice, "Mortality?"

The reminder of their limits.

"I'm not the biggest fan of modern religion," She'd seen it weaponised too many times, "But, if you forget who to fear, well..."

MJ swallowed.

"You end up like me."

His lips twitched, "Is that truly a bad thing?"

MJ bit her lip.

He was scanning her, curiously, far too calm, but everything about it drove her nerves wild.

"Some people," She ignored his question, "Simply find hope in you."

"Do the Greek Myths seem 'hopeful' to you?"

"Depends," MJ tried to work out what was happening, "Maybe, they're a reminder that being mortal is a gift."

The edges of mist were blue.

The light was gold.

And, as she forced herself to stare at that throne, the one in the corner of her eyes seemed to morph from grey rock into elegantly carved wood. More real, the longer she stood there. The prickling of green stems poking out of each bend, like a forest of flowers was being built along the arms, bursting with pink, and yellow, and –

"The heroes will always fall, the gods will always be at war," She tried to think through the myths she'd read, "And while humans may be dragged into them, they have freedom beyond that one fate."

Hades's head tilted.

It was still Kol's face, wearing the robe so easily, hidden behind the masked front of a war helmet, but it was Hades. The Greek God of death. The actual, real, immortal deity of death, sitting in his throne room, having a conversation with her.

What.

The.

Hell.

Was that inappropriate to think?

Looking at Cade, sure, he'd tried to light MJ on fire a few times, but that had been Esther Mikaelson's favourite past time, so she was kinda used to it, and incredibly unimpressed. Looking into those red orbs?

MJ had almost gone mad.

She'd asked the universe for someone more interesting!

...Was that unfair to Samedi?

Meeting a Voodoo Lwa was also pretty damn cool, but MJ was pretty sure she'd been possessed by his wife at least twice now, and Legba had kinda stolen the 'oh, god, this is terrifyingly cool' moment when Ryos had summoned him. Which had also been slightly eclipsed by all of her family drama. Plus, when they'd first met, MJ had literally died, so her mind was a little more focused on that, than the deity.

"That is," MJ let herself walk forward, "If one true fate really exists for anyone."

As he leaned back in his throne, steps seemed to lift him up, three careful slabs, creating a low stage. Suddenly above her. MJ's bare feet pressed into each one until she stood firmly before him, his legs parting once more, almost inviting her closer, her body drifting between them.

"I'm not exactly the biggest believer in prophecy."

"There are three fates," His hand lifted to her chin, tilting it down, "And your doubt is what keeps you alive."

Her throat dried up.

"Be proud of it."

How was he finally beneath her, yet still so commanding?

He was a god.

This wasn't just some guy with a mildly tragic backstory, and a British accent – it wasn't even just Kol. Or, maybe, in a way, it was. Maybe, this was how those he'd torn through saw him. Maybe they passed on believing a grim reaper had made its judgement and dragged them to the pits at the end of existence.

"Unwavering belief in one being, or system, or end, means you are nothing but a battery," He let his nails trace down the side of her neck, eyes bouncing around her features, watching for something, "You die a dull husk of what could have been life, because you fear what waits for you in death."

Her hands came back to his face, fingers looping under the bronze plates covering his cheeks.

"Even if you are rewarded for your loyalty," He graced her shoulders, then her arms, before sitting up to hold her hips that much closer to Kol's body, "Even if you win eternal life, to what end?"

MJ was staring at his lips.

Of course she was!

Kol's hands were tugging her close enough to breathe in, and she wanted to lean down -

"To serve another through your belief?" He was rolling his eyes at his own words, "To pledge closed eyes and empty heads?"

"A lot of religions wouldn't like that stance."

"How would you know?" He gazed up, Kol's face so close to her torso, "Have you spoken to those Gods too?"

She actually laughed.

"Worship," He brushed his nose against her stomach, "Is personal."

"It's changing," She slowly pulled up, "It's complicated."

"Perhaps," He held her look, "You know something about that experience."

His lips.

Kol and she had been in that position a million times over, whether it was just a gentle goodbye hug in the morning, his cheek brushing over her hips, decorating her skin with kisses, or the start of something passionate.

His eyes on hers, MJ desperate to get lost in them after four years of nothing.

Still...

MJ hadn't expected for Hades to let her get so close, the helmet gently pulled off, like it didn't weigh a thing, held in her hands as Kol's face was removed with it. Leaving the curly black hair, and olive skin, hands thicker, his entire body stockier than the lean familiarity she'd wanted.

"MiMi Pasare," Hades' face, holding her so delicately, "Do you fear worship?"

She swallowed.

His opening point, she was mortal, but not, and she's jumped straight to the vampirism, but, "Why is everything so empty?"

The helmet radiated something MJ couldn't look away from, like it might melt into her palm, damning her to that room for the rest of time.

"Where's the fire?"

"You tell me."

"The Greek Myths aren't forgotten," MJ carefully stepped back, his hands letting her, despite how she still held the helmet, "But they aren't necessarily worshipped."

"You'd be surprised."

She stared at his eyes.

Still brown. Still Kol's.

It felt ridiculous to say; Kol Mikaelson did not own brown eyes – half his family had them. It just...After seeing Elena's; the light caught and cast them almost translucent, like a butterfly's wings in the summer sun. Kols were thicker, like oil paint on her mixing pallet, different shades either sinking in, or stuck above, the density of each stroke building layers that would then take a millennia to dry.

"To answer your first question," He let his true voice fill the space, "Why do you think it is empty?"

"That's not an answer!" MJ swung her arms out, helm going to the left, "How, in any way, shape, or form, is that an answer?"

"You've dodged my questions too."

"I'm the confused one! I don't know anything!"

He just smiled at her, "I have missed this."

She rolled her eyes.

"Mortal minds are so fun to play with."

"I'm not technically mortal," MJ reminded him, "I mean, I'm also not technically alive at all, but that's beside the point, and if you can say nonsensical answers! So can I."

He rested back, gazing at her, "What do you know of my planes?"

Her mouth opened.

Then, it shut.

MJ let her eyebrows crease as she truly thought through the answer, going over the different sources, scanning his amused expression, only for that itch to fill her eyes again. Hades had touched her face. He'd stared at her with the eyes of a lover – he had kept the eyes of her lover.

"There are multiple ways in," She started, "Orpheus used one to find Eurydice."

His brows lifted.

"You dragged Persephone through a different one."

"Now, that depends on which version of the myth you believe."

"And," MJ focused on his eyes, as that second throne dared her to catch it, "There are five rivers."

"Yet, you ask why we sit on water?" He lifted a hand, just missing her shoulder, "Why would you expect fire?"

"One of them is meant to be made of fire," MJ reasoned, "The others carry hatred, pain, wailing, and oblivion – sorry for thinking they might look more creative."

His smile only grew, looking around the room, as the fog seemed to catch more of the golden light through its centre, touching the stone edges like a kiss, leaving the columns holding them back as white as before, shades of orange soaked into the greying ground.

"Tartarus is where the monsters go, Elysian Fields hold the heroes," She paused, "Everyone else is in between."

"Asphodel."

"Asphodel," She repeated.

"You know more than your questions would imply," He mocked, putting on a voice, "I'm the confused one! I don't know anything!"

"Shut up," She huffed, "There's some pretty great books on the topic."

"I hope you mean The Odyssey," He spoke pointedly, "And not those children's collections."

"Why not both?"

He made a disapproving sound.

"Oh yes, let's talk about Odysseus," She crossed her arms, "I'm particularly interested in how he walked in and out of here, like it's a party trick, while you kept Eurydice – "

"He hid in the edges and summoned shades," Hades waved a hand, "It hardly counts as a journey in."

"I think it counts as a journey."

"He didn't die!" He lent forward in the chair to point at her, "I couldn't keep him."

MJ watched as light jumped in the man's eyes.

"Besides," His hand flicked the side, "His existence enraged my brother."

Was this the first ancient man to say the word 'brother' that didn't make her instantly want to mock him?

"Of course I let him leave."

MJ was half-tempted to ask him to put Kol's face back on.

She needed to see those lips.

She wanted to see those eyes gleaming at the prospect of messing with his siblings, but with the right lips.

"We've drifted from the point," He didn't seem mad about it, "If you know so much, and you know what you've lived, you know why my halls are so empty."

MJ's lips fell shut.

Did she?

"...Cade," MJ started, "Has taken all the bad souls."

"Arcadius' assumption of evil is ridiculously wide," Hades turned bored in a second, "A fly would qualify."

MJ snorted.

"He could never quite get the monsters, or everyone on the planet, but he certainly tried."

"So, he stole souls that could've ended up here?"

He didn't deny it.

"Beyond him," MJ's brain started to turn, her skin seeming to regain colour, "Qetsiyah."

'you know what you've lived through.'

Hades could see through her – his job was to access the dead, of course he could see it all. It wasn't necessarily mind-reading...maybe it was a little psychic. But it was based on his entire judgement. He didn't need to watch the living unless he felt like it, because, once they were dead, they would be presented to his judgement anyway.

The answer was once again obvious.

"She stole all the supernatural souls."

"You all started making your own," He corrected, "She was just the biggest thief."

The inspiration.

"And, unlike others, she didn't engage in trades."

"You trade dead people?"

"Absolutely not!" He feigned offence, "No god would ever dare disgrace the sanctimonious process of death by sending souls to places they did not believe in! Not ever!"

Even the way he spoke felt like home.

"Not even when things got absurdly dull, nor when some of them were terribly droning," He was too playful for death, "And we definitely didn't exchange the particularly preachy ones."

The sarcasm was clear.

"It's always so amusing to watch their world view crumble."

"You don't seem that bent out of shape for someone losing citizens."

"While other gods may fear irrelevancy," He drifted back into stoic, "The one thing that will always prevail?"

"Death."

"And life."

As the word washed over MJ's faced, she remembered that second throne.

"We cannot exist without each other."

"I think a lot of people would argue death is true immortality," She reasoned, "It will outlast the living."

"And," His hands stretched out, "If there is no one to fear death?"

MJ had honestly expected more fire in the Greek underworld.

"No one to remember those souls?"

"If a tree falls in a forest, with no one there to hear it, did it make a sound?" MJ followed the point, "I'm so happy I never considered studying philosophy."

"If there is no life, I have no purpose," He reminded her, "I have no power."

"Do you still think you have power?" MJ couldn't stop herself from asking, "After tasting the height of your empire, how do you just sit here now?"

"Perhaps, you've just caught me on a good day."

"Most witches would drive themselves mad at the slow erasure."

"I will never be truly erased until humanity ends."

The fact he hadn't blown her into pieces yet was kinda impressive.

"Even if your witch realms collapse in on each other, I will be fine," He was a god, "I was here first, and I will be here long after."

"Do you look at us witches, playing with power, and laugh?"

"Sometimes," His tone lifted, smile sly, "Not at someone as beautiful as you."

"Don't flirt with me," She matched the voice, "You're married."

"All the best men are."

MJ laughed, again.

How the hell was she sharing a laugh with the God of the Dead?

Teenager her could actually suck it – sitting there thinking that meeting the woman who made vampires was the coolest thing that would ever happen to her.

"Feel free to thank yours, the next time you see him," Hades held a hand forward, "His determination to erase Silas's cult was always an enjoyable rush to the rivers veins."

His helm flew from MJ's hand, and back to his own, colour officially coating her skin.

"Is Kol okay?" Her voice was quiet, "I, uh, I understand if you don't know, but if..."

He'd literally said that his spies on the living weren't as active.

"Any faces wandering in screaming 'Mikaelson' recently?"

He blinked, incredibly slowly.

"Or, just, can you feel when there's an uptake in violent deaths?" She scrunched up her face "Can you tell me if he's on some kind of rampage, or if it's methodical, or, like, where the energy might be coming from so I can try guessing what covens he's using – "

"You do not fear him."

The helmet was balanced in his palm, MJ taking in the fading grey of her skin. Hades had called the dead 'shades.' Shadows of people, never fully formed, just an outline or a footprint of what had once been.

"You're faced with the God of Death, and you ask for him?" He shook his head, "Not about how I was formed, or where we exist, or how you got here – "

"I can figure all of that stuff out," MJ reasoned, her voice starting to shake, "I have no clue where Kol is, or what he's doing, or who he's with – if he's with anyone at all – or, if he even has any humanity left in him to care about any of those things, or me, and I know I don't really matter, if he moves on with his life, then okay, that's good, I just – "

After seeming so normal, her sensibilities broke.

"All I do is sit, alone, knowing that time will just keep passing, and he's out there?"

What if someone had hurt him?

What if white oak was growing in some hidden mountain somewhere, and he'd been attacked, or staked, or daggered, or a million other spells that could keep him locked up forever.

If he pissed of the wrong coven trying to save her?

"Even if I trust him with my life, I just..."

"You worry."

MJ held the god's look, face sunken.

"It is time for you to leave."

MJ frowned, "You're sending me away?"

"You were never mine to take," He pulled the helmet back on, her body coated back in grey, "I thought you were here to steal."

"Ready to challenge me?" She watched the almost glittering eroded colours sap out of the stone beneath her feet, "Claim my soul like all those other cursed 'heroes?'"

"The Greek heroes were rarely good people."

The golden light was the last to fade.

"Does that make them cursed? Or did it make them human?"

"Immortals are hardly any better."

"And maybe all an immortal wants is what those mortals have."

"Oh, I've noticed that part," She bobbed her head, "Weirdly enough, I think I'm one of the few beings who actually wants to live forever."

"Then," His face changed one final time, "Live a long and powerful life, Floare."

The beautiful skin and big eyes of a women MJ couldn't help but admire.

"At least love wasn't the end of you."

"It was," She admitted, "Just not in the way she meant."

She'd died for Ryos.

She'd died at a wedding.

She'd died for her people.

"What's changed?" MJ didn't understand Hades's sudden rush, "What do you know?"

'Qetsiyah's' hand was lifting.

"Has something happened to him?"

"Mortality is simply the power to choose Heretic," Hades finally point, "But their choices are still limited; someone like you?"

A force pulsed through the black and white, the helm on Qetsiyah's head, the silhouette of it burning into MJ's psyche as only the eyes were left, casting out a bright and beady read.

Blasting her away with it.

MJ woke up in Mystic Falls, confused out of her mind, half convinced Tyler must've given her one of his party drugs, only to remember that he'd handed her drink to Matt.

Hades.

GOD OF THE FREAKING UNDERWORLD.

She had just met Hades, and not only had she stood between his legs, looking into the eyes of Kol Mikaelson, letting him pull her hips closer – but he'd kicked her out?

...

He'd sent her to the realm of the living?

Did that mean MJ had form again?

Oh my god, had the literal god of death just done her a favour?

MJ couldn't help but snort. She'd been so adamant there was no chance Cade was a real deity of death, because screw it being just some guy with an affinity for fire, yet she was not even hesitating to believe that the man she'd just met was Hades.

Confirmation bias was such a real thing.

It was different!

In MJ's mind, she'd been proven right. Cade had just been a wronged witch. That guy? That man, shifting form, draining colour from a room, always staring over her shoulder, like his eyes could see the spots she couldn't –

Oh.

The second throne had been carved out of wood, flowers spouting along its arms, colour pouring out from it. Persephone's throne. It was the start of March. Sure, the spring equinox was the end of March, meaning some people would still consider it winter, but a series of other calendars placed it in February. And, regardless of their modern views on it...Persephone hadn't been there. She might've still been in the underworld, but would've been packing to leave it.

MJ had pleaded for information on her lover to the god of dead, watched his face drop in familiarity, and then, when he hadn't had answers, he'd sent her back to that plane. The one that might fill in her blanks. The one that meant she might be able to see those other loved ones she'd let herself die for once already.

...He'd really just done her a favour?

Maybe she should've kissed him –

No.

That was not her real brain talking, that was the part of her that hadn't felt intimacy in four years, finally faced with Kol's sparkling eyes – and it hadn't even been him! Of course her body had reacted! It wasn't her fault, and it wasn't cheating, and gods, she was gonna make that thought up to him so bad once he finally figured out how to bring her back.

There was definitely something wrong with MJ.

How the hell was it her body's instinct to consider kissing the Greek God of death? Why had she stood that close? Good lord, she needed her therapist! But her therapist was not dead! And, even if she was! MJ was trapped in her dumb little white box room, that was suddenly growing grass, like a middle school science experiment, so MJ wouldn't be able to reach her anyway!

Inhala. Exhala.

Drop the anchor MJ.

Ground yourself.

Part of her could still remember Jordan's voice. On the bad days, lying in the abyss, she'd forced her eyes to shut, body stretching out, letting the memory of her instructions carry her away. Having a decent memory and an incredibly long list of therapy exercises honestly might be the only reason MJ hadn't entirely lost it yet.

Her eyes opened, and she was still in Mystic Falls.

Why was she in –

"Mierda," She cursed, "Por dios – Katherine!"

It had been Stefan and Caroline's wedding, and Kelly Donovan had blown up a house, and Bonnie and the twins had made it out, but teaching them a spell had forced them to drop their hold on MJ, and then Bonnie had collapsed!

"How have I lived like a thousand lives in half an hour."

One day, she might let herself address the fact that she was pretty sure she'd been turned into a bug during one of the lines of the spell, but that was a future her problem. That was a problem for once she had her therapist. Or, at least, a phone call with her semi-Buddhist, probably believed in reincarnation, father.

"Get a grip," MJ closed her eyes, hand stretching out, "The hell bell was ringing."

She let her fingers fold down in order.

Five;

Four;

Three;

Two;

One.

"And go," MJ focused, staring around the panicked streets she'd been dumped back into, "I need to find Katherine."

She needed to find Bonnie, or The Twins – or just –

A police officer walked directly through her, MJ gagging as the cold chill seemed to make them both shiver.

"Brilliant," She let her arms out, "Anybody hear me?"

Not a single one of the civilians being shovelled into buses reacted, all pulling duffle bags of belongings over their shoulders. Was a gas leak like a plane crash? Were they technically meant to leave everything behind in case nothing bad actually happened? Or were some of the people just traipsing into cars with nothing but their loves ones withered citizens assuming the police force was panicking for nothing.

"Katherine..." MJ had been able to make contact with Kai, "If Bonnie can't see me, and The Twins have lost our loop?"

Where would Katherine had gone?

"The Salvatore House is the obvious point, but that feels too simple," She winced, forcing her to go, jogging down the central high street, clock tower watching over her, "It's never just about the Salvatore's."

Could she siphon the bell?

That felt like asking for her soul to burn up, and MJ had experienced that sort of end once already. She'd somehow been pulled back together – Cade's determination to catch her had forced him to do that job, and MJ owed it to herself to not screw that up.

The bell also seemed to have a history of messing her up, and she didn't need that either.

"It's going to be about Elena."

Despite having slightly lost her touch when it came to understanding some of her friends after four years of no contact, Katherine's life had seemingly ended with hers. She'd been out of time just as long. And, if she'd ended up in hell, she had nothing better to do but plot the exact same way she had while living.

"It's going to be about endings," MJ couldn't help but feel responsible for the mess, "Her happy ending got cut off early, so she's going to ruin theirs too."

There was a chance Katherine blamed her.

"But where would be the most poetic place to pull that off?"

If MJ had been less focused on The Crescent Curse, and the cure for Rebekah, and decoding all of Ryos's notebooks, she might've remembered that she owed the woman a real spell. Or, just, an unlinking one. She could've updated the preservation charm to exist on its own, and, really, she probably should've thought about that the minute she learnt Katherine had collapsed when MJ blew up. She just...

Her Katherine chapter was meant to have closed, in a way. They had they little trauma bond, able to look at each other and understand something so many others didn't, fulfilling the promise made in Ric's apartment. They'd sent each other photos of where they were as a way to communicate, but beyond that?

"Where Klaus broke his curse?"

Katherine was meant to have been in her epilogue, while MJ was still lost in some metaphorical middle of the Greek Epic she now appeared to be living in.

"The High School," MJ stumbled to a halt, looking towards the road that would've led her there, "Where Elena finally won, turning her human."

If everything happened there, it would allow Katherine to reclaim that moment.

"Except..." She winced, "The humanity didn't end up being the problem."

MJ had found a way for her to cheat death once more.

"Gods," She couldn't help but say the plural, "I hate being out of the loop!"

Even shouting that sentence at the top of her lungs did nothing to catch the eye of a single car swerving around the road corners.

"It just – I – "

Where was her best chance to find the mess?

What had truly started it all?

What had turned her daring escape from a hybrid into a pissing contest through time?

"It's not as simple as 'Elena,'" MJ needed to remember there were other factors at play, "It's about the witches, and the vampires, and the wolves, and the fact that time likes to repeat – "

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

MJ closed her eyes at tried to act as a spirit.

She was an ancestor, and she had many ties to this town, whether she wanted them or not.

What was a location that hadn't let her down as intensely as that stupid moonstone?

As her wrists flicked, no magic twisted out, but her form flashed away, the phantom of the high street, as everyone just kept walking.

MJ jolted back into shape in the tunnels.

Not just the tunnels, but the exact tomb the vampires had once been trapped in. She'd burnt a chunk of them to ash – they'd discovered the Mikaelson's history behind its walls, remembered thanks to a werewolf with too much forgiveness in his heart.

And her assumption hit the nail on the head.

"Taking a trip down memory lane?" Katherine Pierce stood behind Damon Salvatore, "Oh, I've missed this place."

MJ couldn't help but hesitate.

The metal gate that had once trapped Stefan and Katherine inside was as shiny black as ever, held towards the stone walls by a hook, and a bungee rope. The Armory had clearly been renovating the system, or simply exploring its legacy, but MJ highly doubted they were responsible for the waves worth of candles across every surface.

All lit.

"Said no one ever."

"Katherine," MJ tried, taking in the deep red lace dress the woman was wearing, "You're a spirit."

"I figured you'd keep showing up to annoy me," Damon stood, his suit jacket done back up, brushing dust between his fingers, voice weary, "You're nothing, if not, utterly predictable.

"You'll be able to hear me."

"Wouldn't wanna miss a minute of the Elena Gilbert show," She taunted, "Speaking of..."

She wagged a finger, gesturing the empty room.

"Shouldn't you be by her side?"

"Well, I figured," Damon finally faced her, sauntering forward, "Now that you're practically 'The Devil.'"

"Cade was way too chill about losing that title."

"You'd be in the know."

"Further proof they're not a true incarnation of pure evil!"

"I just hung out with Bonnie Bennett," He met Katherine's level of petty swagger, "And she figured out a way to save the day."

Katherine let herself pick up one of the unlit candle sticks, "Bonnie isn't strong enough to save a kitten."

"She's done it once or twice," Damon had faith, "My money's on her."

MJ really stared at the man for a moment, oddly proud.

In the prison world, Damon had claimed faith in her too. It was his justification for why he'd lashed out so heavily when she'd barely been able to speak. He'd had so much faith in her, and it had driven him mad to watch her loose that spark. He'd handled her terribly, but he'd never lost real faith...

Markos had claimed her too weak to stop him, and then?

"We're talking about hell fire," Katherine pointed the candlestick at him, "So intense it could obliterate anything within miles."

She seemed incredibly content with herself.

"What the hell is Bonnie gonna do?" She almost laughed, "She's thirty minutes away."

MJ had to assume there was a time limit to the mess, "Never underestimate a witch."

"If you take the highway round the mountain, sure, but as the crow flies it's only seven miles," Damon hadn't thought about crows in a long time, "Which is the beauty of these tunnels."

MJ was able to watch as Katherine's smile morphed from smug to calculating, trying to work out if she needed to care about that fact.

"Did you know that they go from The Armory," He used his arm to illustrate, "Straight into the heart of downtown Mystic Falls?"

He let his pep vanish to mock.

"I bet you didn't know that did you?"

"You think Bonnie Bennett can magically draw hell fire through the tunnels away from the town?"

Honestly, MJ was a little surprised Katherine wasn't more panicked.

Why was she so sure Bonnie would fail?

She'd literally seen her pull off the impossible before.

"Even better. I think she can send it straight back to hell," He was blunt, "Where you and I will be waiting patiently for it."

Had Katherine not learnt anything?

"I've gotta say," Damon stilled before her, "I look forward to dying by your side, KP."

"You're bluffing."

"He's not," Stefan's voice came from the metal gates, "And, neither am I."

"I've got this handled, bro," Damon pulled a face, "You need to get out of these tunnels."

"I'm not the one who's going to get out of here, Damon," Stefan sounded wooden, "You are."

"I swear to God, Salvatores."

"Bad time to be a martyr, Stefan."

"Said the martyr."

"Dammit," MJ winced at herself, "Neither of you are martyr's."

With one careful choice, she latched on to the back of Katherine's neck, the wibbly wobbly contact just stable enough to make Katherine's knees give out. MJ caught her as she fell, keeping her upright, the red glow so cosmetic compared to the candles.

Said candles spiked, the brother's freezing in semi-panic.

"Odhalit El Ducha Espiritu."

The flames seemed to spit a voice, not a crackle, not a wick, just familiarity.

"Ven El Forte Ed Cufe."

Katherine desperately kicked out –

"Moartea Devine Tu."

MJ let her drop.

"Dǎkāi Dàmén, Abrir La Puerta."

The Salvatore's had already heard those words once in the past few days, their eyes clicking through the red, then yellow, as flames swung at Katherine's body. She just managed to dive down as they funnelled into a form, burning brighter and hotter, singeing the ground until they turned blue –

"No one has to die!"

Katherine froze, staring at her as the flames gently flickered out around MJ's silver dress, once again carrying that rose tint under all the warmth.

"One of you has vampire speed!" She spelled it out, "Stab her; police the body until the last second, then run."

Silence.

"You both have too many people to live for to waste your life dying down here."

"MJ?" Katherine's voice was weak, "You're here?"

"Like an angel of death."

The brother's stilled as Katherine instantly tensed, none of them quite sure she meant it, or who she meant it for, or if she even meant it as a commentary on their situation at all.

"Katherine," She stepped closer.

Her hair seemed different, carrying that odd shape to it when you hadn't been able to make up your mind. Like it had been forcibly flattened, then instantly re-curled, but you didn't have enough time to curl it nicely, so you ended up with a few rouge strands almost stuck together, but just out of place. Katherine wasn't meant to be that messy.

Then again, MJ could fill in the blanks.

She'd straightened her hair to pretend to be Elena.

If this truly was the end, Katherine Pierce wasn't even going out as that shadow of Katerina, she would perish as her impersonation. Her wish to have Elena's life. Or, well, no. She'd burn, dressed in something she'd wear, unable to shake the essence of Elena's shadow, self-imprinted in her skin.

The woman lifted a hand, cupping MJ's face like she wasn't entirely convinced it was real.

"We can all walk away," MJ tried to speak, watching that butterfly in Katherine's eyes remind her that she truly did have maybe a little too much love to give the world, "Bonnie can force the fire down here, and use it to destroy hell. You won't be in it."

The brother's shared a careful look.

"Katerina."

"You need to leave," Her voice was husky, "Now."

"You – "

"Mira," Her lips barely moved, the top layer of teeth hiding her tongue, "Kai was meant to bring you back."

MJ's heart jumped.

"If you're not alive, you need to run."

"It's a trap," Stefan dared to speak, "She thinks she comes back when you do."

MJ didn't let her head turn, focused on the perfect shape of Katherine's jaw.

"She's going to kill us, knowing she has a free pass out of it."

MJ's eyes bounced across every feature, "I'm sorry."

"Do you believe him?" Katherine's hand dropped, "After everything – "

"Do you believe her?" Damon spoke louder, "You know her, Sabrina!"

"I'm sorry!" Her arms swung out, "I didn't think I was gonna stay dead!"

The brother's lips shut, Katherine's sudden sharpness caught in an almost frozen moment as she watched the heretic's eyes well.

"I made a risky move, and I didn't even think about the fact it might've killed you, but that's because I didn't even think it would really kill me! I just – "

Had fallen for her own hype.

"I'm so sorry."

What the hell had MJ really been thinking? She'd simulated death so thoroughly to enter the spirit world as an ancestor, not a traveller, and she'd let them corner her – and it had gotten Lucien killed, and destroyed them, but, how on earth could she had been so risky?

It wasn't like when she'd been a senior, throwing herself into danger as all her reasons to stay alive got stripped away. She'd had more reason than ever to live. She'd had a city screaming her name, searching under every stone when people came for her, rewriting centuries of bias against her kind, begging her to let them help!

Months of being addressed as MiMi Pasare had done more damage than anyone had realised.

"But if you really think that's true," She focused on Katherine, "Stand down."

The woman's head started to shake.

"I'm coming back!"

"I can't trust that!"

"I do!" MJ met her volume, "Kol's – "

"This isn't about a Mikaelson!" Katherine's words were harsh, "This is about you!"

Rage rippled out of her body the longer their eyes locked.

"You heard one sentence that implied the pair of them might actually be willing to sacrifice something, and you swooped in!" She called out, "I know damn well that someone out there will probably bring you back at some point in time!"

MJ's ears started to ring.

"What I don't know is if you'll still exist to be brought back."

She'd let the Salvatore's face Cade without her for that exact reason.

"I die! And it's not even about me!" Katherine snapped, "I'm stuck seeing witch visions of some girl being cut to pieces! My daughter, had to watch, as I was punished, as a witch! Because of you."

MJ paused, slowly remembering the flashes of history she'd seen, surprised they'd somehow reached her. It shouldn't have been surprising. They were linked. MJ just hadn't really thought about how deep she'd made that connection...the river...her world was slowly forming a river, and when she'd died, she'd seen a collection of things.

The drowning.

The murder.

"I can't exist like that."

The more upset she became, the more the Salvatore's started to doubt the declaration she'd had Cade wrapped around her finger. The pain was too real. Whatever she'd existed as for the past few years had undone any good MJ had birthed in her, leaving nothing but that raw revenge in its place. That determination to never risk oblivion again.

"I don't deserve to exist like that."

"Then find peace."

The word echoes among the walls, the flickering candles starting to roar, MJ's mind tugging on something. Power was leaking from them. It wasn't her power; her arms were slowly slipping from the glowing orange back to nothing the longer she stood without a true anchor.

"Katerina Petrova!" MJ begged, "Let yourself find peace."

Sometimes, Mira Jung Floare-Ruiz could be a bit of a hypocrite.

"After five hundred years, don't you deserve that?"

"What I deserve," Her voice was lowered once more, "Is to watch this wretched town burn."

MJ's jaw clenched.

She'd really tried.

She'd wanted nothing more than to see Katherine get the warm light, like knowing that she'd travelled the world with her daughter, and finally found freedom would mean MJ did too. She'd would've hoped that had allowed Katherine to die with love in her heart, focused on that, and finally breathing clean air in the beyond.

Of course she was mad.

She'd had the happiness ripped from her fingers without any warning.

"Your problem," MJ reminded her, "Is with me."

Her choices had really created this mess.

Her first real act, playing God, finding a way for Katerina to live.

Then again, quite a few choices in her path had pointed to this outcome in her character; playing hunter in Chicago, her inability to stay away from news reports, and investigations. How MJ had knelt over her mother's dead body, held the heart, and tried to force the universe to put it all back together. No wonder so many deities seemed slightly fascinated by everything MJ represented, she was the embodiment of the modern blurring lines.

"Why waste this power on Mystic Falls?"

"You're right," Katherine straightened up, everyone surprised by that shift, "You all think Bonnie Bennett has a way to stop this?"

Ric had told MJ the pitch at the wedding.

"You wanna make sure I burn up with hell?"

And, if Bonnie had woken up with renewed self-belief?

"I'll stay right here," Her voice was teasing, "The only catch."

MJ finally looked at The Salvatore's behind her, trying to understand their expressions. Were they bitter? Were they disappointed in her? Were they just plain confused how they'd drifted into the background of their big confrontation?

"You have to stay down here with me."

MJ stilled, head jolting right back to the woman.

"They let you leave?" Her eyes were on the brother's, "They'll spend the rest of their lives waiting for you to wake up, so that they can kill me again."

There was a reason why MJ had faked Katherine's death.

"I'm not doing all this," She spoke pointedly, "Just to die the second I get out."

If the string of fate still hung between them...

"So," Katherine didn't hide her bitterness, "Mira Jung."

The air started to feel humid, thicker between each of them.

"Your future or theirs?"

Damon's arm was moving slowly, facing them both, Stefan just to his left, like he was holding his brother back from getting in the middle.

Or he was preparing them to run.

MJ tried to understand the point of the question.

"We all know she's bluffing, right?" MJ challenged, "She'd never walk to death that easily."

"I did it for Nadia."

"And what," MJ scoffed, "You think this ultimatum is good for me?"

"I'm dead, Mira," Katherine spoke flatly, "My death became about you once, why not twice?"

Something in MJ's heart stung as her tone.

"I come back; I get to be me, one last time, and here you are!" She laughed, "You want me to choose peace?"

There was something going on behind her eyes as MJ started to feel a shooting pain up her spine.

"You want to see yourself in me."

Her joints felt like they were being set on fire.

"Be me; join me," She was testing her, "I choose peace, when you do."

The candles around them were almost twice the height they'd been when MJ had formed, and their constant tremor back and forth was itching through her ears like worms, rooting until they could nestle into her brain.

"I mean," She tried to play it off, "Choosing you is choosing love?"

Something inside of MJ suddenly felt incredibly small.

"I die with that in my heart," Katherine spoke the words like a code, "And we both find peace."

Damon used his arm to push pressure against Stefan's chest, trying to get him to run.

"That's all you want, right?"

MJ's forehead started to sweat, trying to think – trying to be smart enough to work out what ploy Katherine was playing to escape total destruction.

"Phasmatos Incendia Movet."

What was the point of that offer?

"Ego Ex Vos."

Sure! MJ was why she'd ended up in 'hell.' She'd made a reckless choice, but she was suffering for it enough herself considering she'd gotten that woman out alive! She'd found a way to trick nature into thinking there was only one doppelgänger left! She'd hidden it from Klaus, and Stefan, and Elijah, and how dare her mind think about Elijah?

"Vos Ex Unos."

"You save the world; you save your friends – you even save me."

Katherine was mad at her?

Katherine was trying to make her feel embarrassed?

Katherine had earnt her spot in hell, and that wasn't MJ's fault.

"You finally fulfil the destiny you always wanted," Her eyelashes were being batted, tapping the bottom of MJ's chin like she was a child, "And! Maybe! This time!"

Why was she even trying to take the blame?

Part of it came back to her, but everything else was Katherine's doing.

She could've made a deal like Kai's, getting a place back among the living, but she'd chosen to burn the universe down instead of calling her daughter, and then she wanted to blame MJ?

"They'll actually care about the fact you saved them all," Katherine clapped her hands together, "You'll finally matter to them!"

"MJ," Damon clicked first, "Of course we care."

Stefan was oddly quiet.

"Don't let her bait you."

This was honestly a way for them all to make it out.

"You'll come back," He reminded her, "Your boyfriend will figure it out."

Her fingers could barely feel that boiling air, tingling sensations spreading across her skin, until MJ noticed the dying glow of her arms, sinking faster than ever before.

"Bonnie will figure it out."

"Phasmatos Incendia Movet."

Bonnie.

"Ego Ex Vos."

Bonnie had held her arm, and stared at the face of her best friend, and declared to the world that she was ready to die. MJ had lived that feeling. Sometimes, she'd even been aware of how embedded it was in her soul, and she'd pretended to be okay with that.

When she'd wanted to die, the universe hadn't let her, and now that she wanted to live she was trapped?

The Heretic.

Somehow finding a Greek God, then dragged back into this minuscule argument between exes, somehow turned life or death!

And they wanted her to choose?

...MJ hadn't know that the origin of Heretic was Greek, or what it had meant. She's just assumed it was about existing as two things, or existing as something that went against what was considered 'normal.'

After spending so long fighting her reputation, had she really just been fighting the ability to make a choice?

"Vos Ex Unos."

"What's happening?" Damon watched MJ's form flicker in tandem with the candles, "SABRINA!"

"Bonnie needs her," Stefan realised, "Bonnie needs power."

"We need her."

"She can play guard," Katherine agreed, "God, I'd enjoy that scenario."

"Choose peace, Katerina," MJ couldn't help but sway as shadows overcame her face, "That's the only way we meet again."

"Phasmatos Incendia Movet."

"The link's still there," Damon panicked at her parting message, "MJ – "

She vanished with the flickering of the lights, letting the last of her foothold go in an effort to find Bonnie.

That shooting pain had been Bonnie.

Every time someone tried to channel her without permission, she felt agony, of course it was Bonnie. Even if she believed in her magic, fighting off a hell-storm was about more than just renewed power. It was about standing against a force that had welded itself into nature for thousands of years. It was about witches, not gods, only able to touch that kind of power through belief – through each other.

And, as MJ let herself be pulled towards it?

The pain finally went.

It finally turned into a flow.

She was forced to abandon The Salvatore's. Forced to leave her Katerina with the fear of nothingness. Forced was the wrong word. MJ was choosing to save the town. Katerine had chosen to spend her potential final day dressed up as Elena, like she'd learnt nothing in her years of 'happily ever after' freedom. MJ refused to learn nothing.

She was choosing to help Bonnie.

She was choosing the path that wouldn't burn her up in the process – and, after all that talk of what a person deserved...did she not deserve that?

The Salvatore's would figure it out.

They always made it out.

She'd literally told them how to survive! She'd told Stefan to go, and trust Damon to run fast enough – what more could she do? What choice did she really have? If Bonnie was calling on her to stop the hellfire?

"Ego Ex Vos."

The Armory had been carefully reorganised, the panelled glass doors and windows along the front letting in an odd amount of light for the middle of the night. Maybe it was the windows, or maybe they were just reflecting the cluster of chandelier style lampshades across the ceiling of the tiered room, tables pushed slightly to the side, leaving only exhibition boxes in their regular space. On the tabletops were clusters of candles, each lit by a match the length of Bonnie's arm.

"Vos Ex Unos."

Before she'd begun the spell, she'd let herself stare up, back to the doorway, eyes wide open.

"Okay, Grams," Her hair was half pulled back, messy strands falling loose around her face, "If I ever needed you to hear me?"

After her collapse, she'd been able to change out of the bridesmaid dress, a silver chain around her neck, a vial of Enzo's blood hanging from it, tucked into her grey-green top, thin cardigan loose around her shoulders, long enough to reach the centre of her thighs.

"Here me now."

"Phasmatos Incendia Movet."

Among the larger wax candles was her copy of the Bennett Grimoire, the cover opened, the rest of the pages left to watch. There were a lot of spells about wielding large amounts of power with your mind gathered from hundreds of years of practise, helping her pick the words that might do the most damage.

"Ego Ex Vos."

With each repetition, the pages began to twitch, turning – opening to each ancestor she was drawing inspiration from.

"Vos Ex Unos."

The last of the police cars raced through the evacuated town of Mystic Falls, leaving Matt to stand, Tyler's arm around his shoulder, his father just in front of them, staring up at the clock tower, watching as the hands hit ten. Katherine's timer was officially up. Vicki Donavon sent them one final smile from behind the face, walking slowly towards the bell. Each step, any temporary relief she'd managed to find was stripped away, the weight of the choice back in her hands.

"Phasmatos Incendia Movet."

Each of the chandeliers started to turn, just out of sync with each other, some speeding up, only for the others to start turning in the opposite direction, or pause for a moment, or slow down. The metal of their joins was impossible to ignore, Bonnie staring up and raising her voice. Watching as they instantly began to sway in response to her clenched fists and commanding tone, hair whipping around her neck just as much.

"Ego Ex Vos."

Damon and Stefan still stood in the tunnels, one making a choice everyone else would have to live with the consequences of. The guilt. The grief.

Caroline sobbed into his voicemail.

Promising that she understood why Stefan felt he needed to do this.

"Vos Ex Unos."

As Vicki rang that final chime, the entire roof of the church blew off, Tyler's arms swinging over Matt's head to yank him down, red and orange puffs, almost like clouds, turning the entire thing into a flame thrower.

But, just before it could spread down every street?

Something seemed to yank it back.

Bonnie's palms faced the ceiling, fingertips clenching, refusing to let her voice shake.

Refusing to let her eyes close.

"Phasmatos Incendia Movet."

It was fighting back.

"Ego Ex Vos."

It was fighting her.

"Vos Ex Unos."

Her magic had been back for less than a day, and even if it felt like their bloodline had potentially been crafted for this task, she was having to beg the universe to bend to her sole will. She was having to play God, and if she'd learnt anything through the years of death and resurrection, no witch was meant to play god.

"Phasmatos Incendia Movet."

Not alone.

"Ego Ex Vos."

A warmth spread down Bonnie's elbows as she twisted her palms to the floor, clenching into fists, someone moving her elbows towards her hips, guiding her forearms slightly out, then pressing a comforting hand on her spine.

"Vos Ex Unos."

Just the slightest change in posture, anchoring her body to the earth, the lamps snapping into time with each other overhead, spinning like fairground lollipops.

"Phasmatos Incendia Movet."

MJ's arms wrapped around Bonnie's waist like a protective coat of armour, linking their fingers together, and forcing the fists forward, burying her face into Bonnie's neck.

"Ego Ex Vos."

In the town centre, the explosion was sucked back into the tower, shooting through the trunk of the building until the entire thing looked more like lava than brick. It was a volcano begging to erupt, spitting into the air, reminding them it may backfire at any second, leaving Tyler to stare up, fingers twitching, letting Matt stumble out of his hold to watch too.

"Vos Ex Unos."

Katherine's body had been stabbed once more, The Salvatore's determined to argue about their fates, tucked into the tomb as the blazing orange charged past them.

"Phasmatos Incendia Movet."

It smacked through the wooden doors to The Armory basements, through both their modernist cells and renovated expedition zones, crumpling up chairs and tables without a second of resistance, desperate to taste air. It craved life. It craved destruction, and souls, meaning it was coming directly to Bonnie as she almost stepped back.

MJ's body forced her still.

It kept her from breaking, as their power weaved together, drawing on the bloodline, the first spirit to answer Bonnie's call.

"Ego Ex Vos."

This was what being an ancestor was meant to be.

"Vos Ex Unos."

She was already dead, so as Bonnie's natural fear could've broken her stance, and cost her the rest of her life, Mira Jung could stay steady. She could let her living relative take every drop of magic left in her being. She could whisper the words of the spell into Bonnie's ears, ensuring that even if she stumbled, someone was there to keep the pace.

There was not a second of pain in MJ's body anymore.

It was like she didn't have a body to hurt anymore. She just had power. And, she had love, putting full trust in Bonnie to wield the power well. Had the New Orlean's ancestors feared burning up when the living pulled on them too heavily? Had that out of body rush taking over MJ's phantom senses sent them spiralling?

"Phasmatos Incendia Movet."

It had killed MJ, in a way.

Not understanding why her power would vanish, and jump, and suddenly be so adamant it needed to exist in someone else's hands. She hadn't understood what had been happening. Even once she'd started to realise Bonnie was trying to draw on her, MJ hadn't understood how to simply open the magic to her. Or maybe she'd been putting up a fight out of fear too.

In that moment, neither of them had anything to fear.

"Ego Ex Vos."

The wall of heat rushed forward, MJ shoving their hands to meet it as Bonnie's nose started to drip with blood, watching as an invisible line formed only a meter in front of them.

"Vos Ex Unos."

The sweat on Bonnie's forehead was unmistakable, the echoing heat grating even MJ's nerves, inching closer, shoving back, crackling against the wooden floors –

It was fighting them.

It was full of screams, and knowledge, and a history far older than either of them, or anything they'd ever faced before really. Except, MJ had just met the God of the Underworld. If she could face him, she could face down a wall of fire determined to consume someone she loved.

...Her ticket back to the living.

MJ had left the Salvatore's because she'd had to. Because she couldn't stay there when Bonnie needed her – not after every witch incident where MJ had felt so entirely alone. Even if she was the only spirit there, she would hold Bonnie so tight until she had nothing else left to give, thinking through her bond to The Verite Nwa, and The Floare Stones, and Qetsiyah, and Silas, and the Lwa, and her baby, and every powerful entity she'd ever faced before.

"Phasmatos Incendia Movet."

"No," Bonnie's hands started to tremble as MJ continued the spell, "I can do this."

MJ nodded into the nook of her neck, pulling her hands out of Bonnie's to trace up her arms, wrapping around her waists so tight, daring the universe to even try and rip them apart.

"I can beat you."

"Ego Ex Vos."

"You can't have me."

"Vos Ex Unos."

"It's not my time."

"No," MJ let their pure willpower carry the spell on as fire tickled their forehead, "It's not."

The rush of hearing that declaration leave Bonnie's lips was like the first breath of fresh air following a storm. There was moisture in it. Something new, and bright, and smacking into your face after days inside, trying to wait it out.

"Hold on to that feeling."

The stinging of heat threatened to blister her flesh.

"And fight for it."

"It's too strong," Her eyes were filling with tears, "I can't do it alone."

"You're not alone," MJ promised her, "I'd never let you face this alone."

The choice had been, save the Salvatore's from themselves, or save Bonnie from making the same mistakes that had cost MJ everything.

Part of MJ would always feel a level of blame for what happened. How could she not. But that had been Katherine's point, in a way. She'd refused to move on, even after MJ had given her a way out, and maybe that was why MJ chose Bonnie, but the rest of it? Katherine's choice for them? She'd been baiting her. She'd forced MJ to choose herself.

As awful as it felt, she was dead, and she couldn't save someone who didn't want to be saved. She could save Bonnie.

"We say it together."

"Phasmatos Incendia Movet."

Bonnie's voice was strained, but it was there, letting MJ step back, hands on her shoulders, staring down the storm of fire. The colours couldn't help but look beautiful, battling each other in their effort to tear the world down. It was the perfect dance, full of spins, and dips, and lifts, each blaze so entuned with the next, reminding MJ why the element had always captivated her.

"Ego Ex Vos."

Fire did not just destroy.

It was the sun in the sky.

It was what Josephine LaRue had once called her.

"Vos Ex Unos."

It was the thing that had cursed witches throughout history, many burnt in Mystic Falls itself, but that was exactly what they needed, different hands finding MJ's shoulders. She instantly jumped, looking at the ghostly expressions, welcoming her in, funnelling all of their power through her, and into Bonnie.

"Grams?" The living woman whispered, staring at that first face in awe, "Grams."

The old woman just gave her a proud smile, following their lead.

"Phasmatos Incendia Movet."

The face of Emily Bennett was on their other side, than Beatrice, then a women dressed in clothes MJ had seen in so many visions – clothes from the Middle Ages – the clothes of the human Mikaelson's.

Ayana.

Someone else's hands fell on MJ's sides, directly behind her as the others coned, centuries of spirits coming together to protect Bonnie.

"Ego Ex Vos."

Qetisyah's hands.

"Vos Ex Unos."

It wasn't just a triangle of history, it was an arrow being shot directly into the flames, a man's face behind Qetsiyah, building a chain of spirits that cumulated in MJ's hold of Bonnie.

Behind that man?

Clio.

"Phasmatos Incendia Movet."

MJ tried not to let herself panic – Clio was a Pethane, perhaps she qualified as a spirit, rushing to her descendant's aid, features matching the man behind Qetsiyah. It wasn't just the pure Bennett line coming to their rescue, it was each branch of the family tree, MJ's eyes desperately searching for her mother.

"Ego Ex Vos."

Every second there was a new face, making it seemingly impossible to keep track, Qetisyah noting MJ's panic, hand on her neck to force her to look forward.

To look at Bonnie.

To bask in the beauty of the flames.

"Vos Ex Unos."

In one finally push, thousands of years chanting, the barrier finally moved once more, snuffing out every last puff of smoke and piece of potential kindling, slamming it right back into the bell.

Leaving nothing but a destroyed tower in its wake.

Bonnie fell forward, her eyes glistening, desperate for breath, "I did it."

MJ finally pulled back too, only to scream as Bonnie collapsed to the floor the moment she did, her mind sucked out of the unfamiliar library, surrounded by nothing but white.

"This isn't right?" She called out, "You changed!"

The nothingness held no river, or grass, or cracks to scream through – nor a single spec of the warmth she'd always carried. Everything just felt cool. It wasn't worth shivering over, nor was it necessarily what she would've enjoyed coming out of an air con, but MJ could see how to someone more suited to a breeze might bask in it.

Not everyone liked fire.

Honestly, MJ was slightly surprised she still did.

How she'd stared into that void of red, and now desperately needed a canvas to immortalise it. Maybe, if the box could finally grow things like grass, she could turn that blistering whiteness into a canvas...

"Where am I this time?"

Except, this wasn't her after life.

"Which god wants an audience?"

Maybe, if MJ thought it was some form of God, she shouldn't have been talking so bluntly, but, given her track record, her low-filter mode seemed to win the favour of ancient beings.

"I'm not in the mood to be patient – "

There was a smack, two familiar doors appearing before her, swinging open, forcing MJ's spinning state to still.

Her lips parted.

"MJ?" Stefan Salvatore's voice sounded like hers, a lump forming in her throat, "MJ!"

Behind him was a corridor they both knew well enough, though, MJ would die on the hill that she knew it better given his record-breaking low attendance. A Mystic Falls High School corridor. The one by the trophy cabinet, leading to one of the larger boys' bathrooms.

Over Stefan's suited shoulder, MJ's eyes locked with Elena's.

The woman had tears in her eyes as she stared at them.

Gently, the double doors swung shut, the click of a fire exit almost comforting, as everything seemed to flicker around them.

"You died," MJ barely pushed the words out, "Stefan – "

"It was my time."

She couldn't blame herself; no matter how hard her fingers were trembling.

"MJ," Stefan Salvatore stood before her as the world became too bright to look at, "Thank you."

His hands found her face, blurry shapes seeming to form out of the spots in their vision.

"For everything."

Katherine's goading speech hadn't seemingly just stuck with MJ, his face coated in confliction, and guilt, and an emotion that had sat behind his eyes while staring at her for a good few years now. A form of love. A place in each other's hearts that had never been perfectly treated, or even truly explored, but a part of them either way.

MJ's arms rushed around his neck, the blurs stretching into shadows of objects, and people, and hands reaching out for his.

Stefan had made a choice that meant MJ wasn't even allowed to change her mind and take Katherine's deal. He'd died for his brother, and for his town, and for all the people he loved so dearly. He'd died to make amends for his mistakes. He'd died, making peace with it all.

"Take me there?" Stefan whispered into her ear, "If you can."

MJ breathed in, not sure she could.

But...

As they stepped apart, a ripple spread out from the heel of her foot, those strange shapes and shades bouncing like a pebble tossed into a lake as the light stilled, casting Stefan in warmth, turning the world back into the High School. The fire exit was behind them, leaving them in the car park, MJ hoping to all the gods that the real afterlife wasn't actually another year in education.

"Well, well," Lexi's voice had them both turning around, leaning against Stefan's red convertible, a soft smile on her face, "That was beautiful."

MJ's lump started to dissolve as she watched pure joy spread across both of their faces.

Lexi's blonde hair almost seemed longer – perhaps capturing her in the decade she'd been most free, a grunge band tee tucked into a fluffy black skirt, under a hooded grey denim jacket, low-rise boots completing her style so perfectly. She was able to exist in her beauty, not a hair out of place, smile so perfect, to the point that MJ was almost jealous of it.

Almost.

"What can I say," Stefan looked between them both, "I was feeling epic."

MJ watched as Lexi laughed, Stefan's feet flying forward, encouraging her to push away from the vehicle, running to toss their arms around each other, finally reunited once more.

Her eyes glanced back to that blue fire exit.

Even as they hug ended, Stefan just pulled Lexi back in, hoisting her up into his arms, her legs bending to let him spin her like their bodies hadn't been built for anything but that state of existence.

MJ's feet backed away, towards that door.

"Don't do that," Stefan didn't even have to look at her to know what was going on, "MJ – "

"I have to go back."

The painful truth.

"This isn't," She let her eyes pass over the pair as they finally faced her, "My peace."

"You deserve peace," He reminded her, "You've been alone for – "

"I'm starting to think that no one is truly ever alone."

After four years of solitude...if she could even call it that, all MJ had wanted was to be held. She'd wanted to take someone's hand, and share a laugh, and see them look her in the eyes, and she'd gotten just that, but it wasn't enough to let her move on. It was the reminding of hope that she needed.

Hope.

The little girl who somehow seemed as alone as MJ.

"And," She forced herself to smile, "I still have a lot of unfinished business."

"Strazce Almas Dusi Revelar."

"You don't have to," Stefan reminded her, sympathetic gaze clear, "If you want rest?"

"Odhalit El Ducha Espiritu."

She just let her head shake, as the fire exit swung open behind her, clear of High School halls, showing a carefully lit room, two siphon girls chanting, their hands pressed into a familiar grimoire on a low-lying table, a coloured candle on either side of it, a soft tune in the wind.

"Ven El Forte Ed Cufe."

"I'll see you again," Stefan took Lexi's hand, "One day?"

"Moartea Devine Tu."

"One day."

"Dǎkāi Dàmén, Abrir La Puerta."

MJ let herself step back, through the door, watching it close, Lexi snuggling into his shoulder as she turned towards the room.

The Salvatore House.

Josie and Lizzie's faces were beaming as they felt a presence fill the air, candle flames flashing gold for just a second, everyone's eyes on her.

"Hi?" MJ was slightly confused, only for Caroline Forbes to tackle into her, arms clinging on, eyes puffy and red, sobbing into her shoulder, "He found peace!"

The room went still.

"Stefan found peace - I – I – I just saw him!"

Caroline pulled back in shock, "You were at peace?"

In the Salvatore Living Room, daylight was just peaking in, implying that those minuscule seconds of MJ's time had been hours in the realm of the living, giving everyone a moment to regroup. It seemed like everyone, but the twins had been crying, possibly for different reasons, and MJ suspected The Twins would eventually find a reason to cry too.

Damon sat on his sofa, and arm over Bonnie's shoulder, her eyes half-shut until MJ's appearance, leaning into him, one hand holding that vial of blood on her neck. Then, Ric was perched by the girls, glancing between their smiles and MJ's form, like he didn't fully trust what was happening, Tyler on a different sofa, his arm around Matt, head in his hands, trying to force himself to look up as he'd been forced to watch his sister vanish once again.

"Did we just stop you finding peace?" Ric panicked, "MJ – "

"Not at all," Her hands traced through the twin's hair as she turned in a slow circle, "I was just..."

Her eyes met Damon's.

She half-expected to be shouted at, or called a traitor, or told off for leaving them down there, but something was different. Something seemed softer. Maybe he just didn't have it in him to hate her when so much of his body and soul was mourning his brother.

She knew that level of grief more than anyone else.

"...He's with Lexi."

Damon's head bobbed in appreciation.

"And you?" Ric repeated, "What happens to you?"

MJ bit her lip.

"Hell's gone," Bonnie promised her, "And before you say anything about it not being the real one – "

"You just burnt Hell to a crips, Bonnie Bennett."

"We just burnt Hell to a crisp."

The witches shared a smile.

"And," MJ faced Ric, "I go back to where I came from."

At the end of the day, MJ might have spent two days feeling so incredibly alive, but that didn't change the fact that she wasn't.

"How did you guys even find me again?"

Bonnie's eyes jumped to Damon, "He heard the spell."

MJ shifted, truly looking at the man as he held on to his best friend.

Damon and Stefan had been there both times MJ had made herself visible after siphoning a fellow spirit, she just...she hadn't expected either one to have been paying enough attention to the words. Or, well, she hadn't realised the words had been so clear on the side of the living.

"We thought that if the girls found you once..."

"You promised we'd be able to find you," Lizzie reminded her, "You don't get to just vanish without saying goodbye."

MJ's heart filled with warmth.

"We're sorry for messing up the spell," Josie added, "We didn't mean to send you away."

"Oh, babies," MJ dropped to her knees, "You didn't do anything wrong."

They'd saved Bonnie.

"Never apologise for keeping each other safe."

The two little bundles just grabbed her hands, squeezing her fingers, in an oddly familiar clinging. MJ had been holding Bonnie with that ferocity only moments earlier, knowing that it meant they weren't about to just let her go without a fight.

MJ's eyes met Ric's.

She carefully pulled her hands free, forcing herself to stand.

She faced Caroline, "Can I make a phone call?"

The room shifted in confusion.

"You've summoned me to say goodbye," She reminded them, "To check I'm still out there, and that Stefan found peace, and I promise that he did – "

Caroline's phone was out, held towards her, "Kol still hasn't called back."

"And this isn't about Kol," She dialled carefully, eyes jumping from the tiny children to every face around her, "This is about to be incredibly complicated."

The number didn't already exist in Caroline's phone, and, well, it was a number MJ really shouldn't have known either. But, well, she'd helped Hope memorise it during one of their lessons while Hayley had popped out to buy food.

Ring.

Her hand waved, paper shooting out of the Salvatore book shelves, MJ ripping the first nearly blank page out, Damon jolting up in panic.

Ring.

Next, MJ summoned a pen.

Rinngggggggggggggggggggggg –

"Please leave a message after the tone."

"Hayley Marshall."

Tyler tensed, eyes instantly finding Ric's.

"I swear to god, phone Caroline back."

MJ had an odd feeling Hope had deliberately not passed on her message yet in fear of having to explain why a ghost was so familiar with her.

Smart cookie.

However, MJ didn't have much time to waste as Lizzie shrunk back to the floor, wincing, Bonnie's magic somewhat exhausted for the day after saving the world. If Lizzie was already feeling drained, Josie would be too, clearly just better at hiding it, so MJ went to a different number.

Ring, ring –

"Hello?" An accented voice answered.

"Finn Mikaelson," MJ didn't hesitate to announce it, "Aren't you the man of the hour!"

She put the phone on speaker, desperately starting to write as Matt shot to attention.

"Yes, it's me, your lord and saviour – remember how you owe me literally everything?" She forced her voice into confidence mode, scribbling away, "This is the real me. Mystic Falls found a way to give me a temporary foothold, but it ends in the next five minutes, so listen well – "

"Mira."

"That is my name," She kept going, "Good to know you haven't completely forgotten it while deciding to help save the people who murdered me."

Tyler's jaw clenched, waving at her to stop talking.

"Caroline is going to have two pages of notes for you," She ripped a second near-blank page from a book, "Feel free to collect at your earliest convenience."

"How – MJ," He tried to keep up, "Mira – how are you – "

"I have a way to cure Rebekah's curse, two options in case you can't find the dark object for the first; and I'll try and write down the spell to make it, as a second back-up," She explained, "Yes, it looks like an hourglass, do not let it break, or Bek's will just end up rushed by the dark magic you've removed."

She drew a diagram at record speed.

"I also have a spell to deactivate the magic in Klaus's prison, and I have his location."

"MJ," Tyler moved towards her, Caroline moving quicker to put a hand on his chest.

Her weeping eyes were clear, and he couldn't do anything while staring into them.

"There's a sample of Klaus's venom in the Lockwood vault, you'll need that for the cure, plus, I'll write a list of things you can do to replicate part of my brother's magic without having to sell your soul of the Lwa," She'd had so much time to think while in that void, "I also have some tips to find the last Malraux."

"The last Malraux is dead," Finn sputtered out, "I've been trying to make a substitute – "

"Her name is Keelin Ponzio, she grew up in LA, and the gene came from her mum's side, or, her dad's grandma, I can't actually remember anymore," She just kept talking, Josie finally letting herself sit, a hand pressed back into the grimoire, turning red, "Her brother's name was Ludo, and she wanted to be a Doctor when she grew up."

Silence.

"That body Kol dumped was just to mess with you, because he knows my history with the family."

"Is this really you?" Finn's shaking breaths were only getting louder, "If it was real – "

"Why would I help you?"

Damon was holding Bonnie tighter, too tired to care what MJ was writing on a page that had once belonged to him, Caroline not quite understanding, but seeing the energy in MJ's every move. Leaving Ric and Ty. Both staring at her, conflicted.

"I'm so sorry, Mira," He spoke into the quiet, "I – I'm – "

Her hand slowed, staring at the mess of words across the page.

"I did not agree with Freya's choice – I tried to help the coven's revival, but we failed you, and now, I did not wish to help my family escape, but – "

"Klaus is being tortured to keep them alive," MJ had connected the dots, "While his daughter is forced to run for her life; Obviously I'm gonna wanna set Hope free from the childhood I had."

He breathed out.

"Klaus is in Marcel's garden and the spell on the door is Kitsune magic that seals your lips shut and manipulates your memories – as well as burns anyone not allowed in the space."

"I'm so sorry."

"I know," MJ let herself sound bitter, "But, when this is over?"

Josie stopped siphoning, whispering the lines of the spell again, only for blood to appear in her nose.

"Kol and I are getting our peace."

"You're not alive?" He couldn't quite understand what was happening, "You're here, and you're talking to me, but he hasn't succeeded?"

"Don't think about it too hard," MJ didn't have the time to get into it, "Kol and I will never be allowed peace if the rest of you are stuck hunting us down as Hope asks after us."

She held up the two pieces of paper, reading over everything she was about to give them.

Was she actually doing it?

Just because she knew the recipe for the cure didn't mean she had to give it over too. She could just tell them how to save Klaus, and Rebekah, and give Hope an inch of her family back – there was no reason MJ had to feel any guilt towards Elijah. Except, that was exactly it. MJ wasn't feeling guilty. She wasn't doing it to save Elijah. It was about Hope. And, in a way, Kol.

"Hope's summoning me."

"Hayley has only recently made me aware," His voice turned low, "I've talked to her about it and we're trying to find a safe way to use her – "

"Hope is a child!" She folded the pages, "Keep her out of this."

She faced Caroline, lifting them towards her.

"And, when you wake Elijah," MJ had no clue what had happened to Freya, "Tell them all that this is from me."

Anger at her choices might force Kol's humanity on.

"Never let them forget it."

Klaus might be able to anchor a spell to bring her back if he wasn't in that dungeon.

"Force it down their fucking throats until their own guilt kills them."

"If it brings you any comfort," Finn was solemn, "That part had already begun."

"Good," MJ shared a long look with Caroline, "Nice catching up with you, Finncent."

Her best friend's eyes were shimmering, but not necessarily out of love, and it hurt MJ's stomach to the point where she might be sick, that blood in Josie's nose a clear message.

"But, I have to go."

"Mira," He rushed, "I promise you – "

"Hanging up!"

"I'm so sorry."

The beep of disconnect was the only response she wanted to give to his guilt.

MJ took a sharp breath in.

"Are you kidding me?" Tyler's eyes bugged, "Do not give them an easy out!"

"I've not," MJ nodded to the page, "Read it if you don't believe me."

Tyler paused.

"In fact!" She shrugged, "Rip it up to add insult to injury."

"Did you," Bonnie slowly sat up, "Just give him false hope?"

"Not necessarily," MJ glanced at Ric for a second, "There are two recipes for a cure to an enchanted bite in it, plus a solution or two for Rebekah."

Caroline slowly opened it.

"It's just written in a mix of Spanish, Italian, Mandarin, Romani, Creole, and Greek."

Everyone was staring at her, MJ shaking out her hands.

"I've been going insane," She let her eyes close, "The only person capable of getting Klaus out of his mess, is Elijah, since there's no way in hell it's gonna be Kol, meaning..."

"You can see Hope," Caroline reminded the room.

MJ let herself sigh, losing any of the energy she'd gained from that call.

"Like, the way you see the girls?"

"People keep trying to kill her," MJ revealed, "You can think what you want about Klaus, but a kid deserves better than that, and letting him out is the only thing that'll stop it."

She stared at the paper.

"I'm not kidding, feel free to rip it into a hundred pieces."

If Finn had been practising magic for four years, he could probably undo any simple damage, but it would help MJ hammer her 'I'm not happy about this, but it has to be done' point home. Kol hadn't been able to find her, while Hope and The Twins had – Klaus had. The abyss of nothingness forced her to watch over a man she'd once wished agony onto. Kol couldn't use the twins, but he could use his brother.

But, if Klaus was back on two feet, as much as MJ hated it, she had to believe he'd want Elijah, meaning, even if they brought her back, Kol and MJ wouldn't exactly get a happy ever after. They'd get his family hunting them through history. And, sure, MJ and Kol could probably win, but?

MJ was exhausted.

She was mad – not just mad, she was furious, and betrayed, and all manner of complicated emotions that honestly made it nearly impossible to breathe, but if she got to be in Kol's arms again? That was all she needed. And, well, her point with Tyler?

She needed her attackers alive to work out what she wanted to do about them.

Kol had gotten four years of revenge, if not more, depending on how long it took Finn to actually find Keelin 'Malraux,' then, she wanted a say in it.

"Too many spirits have spent their entire deaths wishing nothing but pain on others," MJ was incredibly aware of the two pairs of tiny eyes on her, Ric crouched down to try and stop Josie's bleeding, "Magic isn't meant to be about pain."

She slowly moved back to the table with The Twins.

"It's about so many incredible things."

Carefully, MJ joined them, kneeling in front of the candles, realising she recognised them; her eyes jumped to Tyler.

He bit his top lip, but gave a clear nod, "I, uh, I thought they might like them."

"If you don't mind," Caroline was quiet, "It's your stuff."

"I made these ones," MJ assured them, "They weren't the..."

Kol's gifts.

"Thank you," She looked around the room, "I'm...I'm sorry I couldn't do more."

"You're dead," Bonnie reminded her, "You did everything you could."

MJ held her look, finding a spark of warmth in it.

She forced herself to look at Damon.

His small nod helped her next breath in feel easier, remembering that Caroline's first instinct had been to hug her, not yell about how MJ hadn't forced Stefan back to life. Because, well, they all knew that if MJ had the ability to do that, she would already be on two feet herself. Tyler had been a unique explosion of power creating that first chip out of her prison, and, he hadn't actually died, he'd just needed protection.

"Now," MJ took the twins hands, "You two."

They perked up.

"I am so proud," She squeezed, "You are magnificent witches."

"You think?" Lizzie beamed.

"I know," She let herself brush the girls check, "And if anyone ever tries to make you feel like you don't belong? Or that you can't? Or, if they dare to make you feel bad about your magic?"

There was a clear threat in her tone, Josie unable to stop a giggle.

"You are so incredibly special," She kissed them both on the forehead, "Don't let anyone ever trick you into thinking otherwise."

Ric and Caroline had been struggling with their powers, MJ knew that. She wasn't saying anything to try and make the pair feel bad about not enjoying their little sparking tricks, she was saying it for The Twins. She was saying what she'd needed to hear growing up.

"Magic is the best thing in the world."

They were not allowed to feel ashamed of it.

"It changes the world," MJ placed her own hand on the grimoire, "And the world is so lucky to have you as spellcasters in it."

As her hand turned, palm facing up, a flower began to sprout in it, pulling on The Twins magic, deliberately turning them woozy. It had been a long few days of mayhem, and they deserved a break, and MJ wanted them to let her go.

"If you two try summoning me," She was clear, "Unless you're in danger."

The big asterisk.

"I will not be appearing."

Their eyes went wide, "But – "

"I'm a ghost," She stressed, "You two deserve to be more than fuel for the dead."

Since holding her there clearly drained them.

It was strange how Hope didn't seem to have any issues, but MJ wasn't always entirely convinced Hope was actually summoning her. It felt far more complicated than that.

And, with the context of the merge, the sentiment came with an added layer too.

"Promise me," She let the flowers burst out from her fingers too, petals spreading with the wind, a butterfly snapping into existence, their eyes instantly pinned on it in awe, "You will not let anyone use you like that."

"We promise," They spoke in unison.

MJ let herself smile as they pocked at the brightly coloured leaves born out of the Bennett Grimoire they'd been siphoning. Each flower they touched shifted, MJ letting power spill out from her fingers to create another butterfly, then a firefly, sticking to them and their tiny glow.

The tissue up Josie's nose carrying the spots of deep red to remind MJ to hurry up.

"I will see you all again," She looked around the room, "If it's not within your lifespan..."

Her preservation spell had ninety-six years left on it.

"...Know that I will be the one to greet you on 'the other side.'"

Or, at least, she'd try to be. MJ wasn't quite sure if she'd appeared to guide Stefan because she'd technically been part of why he'd died – or, because she'd been on his mind when he'd died, but...

Stefan Salvatore was dead?

Truly gone, driving off into the sunset with his best friend.

"Train them," MJ's message for Ric, "Don't make them conform to your world; take the one I started building and finish it."

Being a siphoner wasn't a death sentence anymore.

"Tell my dad that I'm okay," She spoke to Tyler, then turned to Bonnie.

Bonnie, Damon, and Caroline.

What was she meant to say to them?

Luckily, MJ didn't really get a chance to figure that out, mouthing a mix of 'I'm sorry' and 'I love you,' and 'keep living' as The Twins finally lost a hold of her, form flickering into nothing.

The flowers covering the Salvatore table the only proof she'd ever been there.

The golden light of the fireflies carrying the familiarity of her eyes.

"Okay then," MJ let herself sit among them for a moment more, watching as nearly everyone started to well up, the intensity of everything truly smacking them in the face.

She wasn't alive to comfort her best friend.

Caroline was mourning her husband, and MJ couldn't even hold her through it.

"I..."

Could she offer comfort?

It wasn't MJ's fault that Stefan had died.

She'd told the brother's the easy way out.

Stefan had made his choice, and much like MJ's mother, it was hardly the perfect one, but it was clearly what he'd needed, able to spend the rest of his 'days' at peace.

"I'll see you soon."

Saying 'until we meet again' felt wrong, now. Not just because Katherine was truly gone, not even because hearing Kai parrot it had sent such shivers through the phrase. It was too vague. It had allowed the sloppiness of their linking thread to exist. It was a beautiful maybe for both women to hide it, and MJ refused to phrase her resurrection that way.

"I promise."

As MJ stood up from the table, no one could see her walk away, Matt moving his arm over Tyler this time, letting them both just mourn.

She paused one last time in the doorway to The Salvatore House.

They were all crying, but they were holding each other, and there were two children in the centre of it, enamoured by the glowing bugs, and flowers, and the tune coming from the candle. They'd be okay. MJ had to know they'd be okay.

She stepped through the ever-unlocked door, shivering before the warm air hit her skin.

Except, she wasn't in her limbo, she was facing Klaus, the walls of his cell sticky from torch light and sweat, and his back and forth fighting with Tunde's blade. He didn't have the strength to pull it out, and for the first time in a long time, he didn't even seem to be twitching. Just, lying there. MJ pursed her lips, trying not to let it drag her right back to that destroyed insanity she'd carried when first getting a foothold in Mystic Falls.

"They'll be coming for you," She hoped her voice offered comfort, "When Kol was dead, I could still feel him."

Even when she hadn't realised it.

"He'd be sitting next to me, and talking, and I'd be wondering how on earth I managed to sleep so well that night."

He didn't even groan in agony, no light in his eyes.

MJ closed her eyes and turned; she didn't have it in her to look at him in that state after meeting Stefan's spirit in the afterlife. She couldn't truly think about him without the claws of guilt stabbing her brain, yelling at her for 'betraying' Kol's revenge. Klaus deserved to be down there – MJ had once dreamed of seeing him in that state, but –

Turning was a mistake.

Looking away from Klaus meant looking at her own coffin.

"Kol will get my message," She prayed, "My dad will hear it, and he'll find a way to pass it along."

He had to be okay.

She had to believe he was perfectly fine, hidden away with some intensely powerful and underground coven, and he'd be racing through that dungeon door to save her any day now.

He'd washed her hair...

MJ forced herself to stare at the coffin. Each flower was carefully arranged around and under her body, creating a perfect bed of spring, blotches of yellow and pink, and blue, almost distracting from the blood-covered clothes. At least MJ was out of them. The bridesmaid dress wasn't an ideal outfit to be stuck in either, but...MJ stood, in a silver evening dress, looking down at her body, perfectly preserved in nature.

Click.

She'd already somewhat realised that Hades had sent her to the realm of the living out of sympathy, but maybe that was why he'd been flighting too. Did he see Persephone, or did he see himself?

MJ breathed in carefully, pressing her hands down the side of the shiny fabric of the dress, then held them forward, floating above her bloodied chest. The skin had healed. She had no heart to fear, but still.

She didn't have magic.

She hadn't had magic.

MJ's mind was racing as she forced herself to hum, knowing the bell would never be rung again, and that any amplified power she'd gotten from it was probably long gone –

"O Lespri Mwen Swete Fe Yon Kontra."

Treating the words like a spell was potentially a problem but MJ didn't know what else to do. She didn't have the ability to perform a full ritual, and, even if she had, it wouldn't have necessarily worked. If she'd tried to summon a Floare Circle, and it had failed, it might've deterred her too much to continue.

"Nan San Ak Lanmo."

That was a lie.

MJ had too much at stake to give up so easily.

It was why she forced herself to say a phrase that had started to haunt the end of her life.

"O Lespri Mwen Swete Fe Yon Kontra."

A phrase the ancestors had infested the living with.

"Ti Bebe A Ka Sove Nou."

MJ let herself shiver through the declaration, like she expected a ghost to step into her soul and wear it as a hat. She wasn't quite sure if this was a sign she did have magic, after all, or if it was a side effect of the spell – a way to do magic by simply invoking holy phrases.

"O Lespri Mwen Swete Fe Yon Kontra."

She'd found Hades.

"Nan San Ak Lanmo."

She'd flicked through each alternate to death, and she'd landed with the Greek God of death, and maybe he would be willing to help her again, but MJ had a bigger gamble to make. Hades didn't need her. It was blatantly clear that he'd been alive for so long, he saw witches fall into situations like hers, and he felt pity more than anything else.

Pity and amusement.

They'd built their own planes of death, taken from his, slowly sapped power from his kingdom, but he had a level of calmness because he knew he would always out last them.

"O Lespri Mwen Swete Fe Yon Kontra."

Hades had let her go because she'd played on his humanity, even if it had been unintentional. Humanity probably wasn't the right word, she'd tapped into his emotions, but, given the vampire switch of it all, maybe humanity and emotions were the same thing. The ability to feel was the one consistent between all the species, even if vampires and witches liked to think they could tap out of it. The humanity would always win.

"Ti Bebe A Ka Sove Nou."

"Indeed," Samedi's voice was clear, "It can."

MJ wasn't standing in the cellar, or garden, or whatever Marcel would be calling it nowadays. She was in her realm, not only filled with grass, and water, but clear rockfaces and hills, begging her to touch them. The sky also wasn't blinding, but a deep navy, filled with flickering scars, showing that dazzling glow of white light just beyond it.

The stark difference would've made her suspicious if her heart wasn't singing.

Everything may look different, but this was her prison box, suddenly bustling with the sound of the wind between leaves, the river, and things she couldn't wait to identify.

As MJ let her feet turn, she seemed to be standing in a simple grove by the river, an apple tree in the centre, Samedi sitting beneath it, a glass of wine in his hand, eyes narrowed.

It was entirely unfamiliar to her, but the magic in the soil screamed for her.

"Now you want to talk about that?"

"I want to make a deal," MJ watched as he sat up, "That's why you hang around me, right? You've been waiting for me to offer one."

"I thought," He was suddenly standing before her, "You would be offended if I even tried to bargain."

MJ let herself look at him.

Unlike their last run in, his shoes were on, trousers and suit jacket freshly stitched together, still curved in such a way that made her smile. Like, she loved when a guy had an interesting suit, and now that she was closer to it? The purple detailing seemed to shine in the starlight, the bones around his neck clearly old and withered.

"I'm assuming," She got to her point, "You can't just bring me back to life?"

He laughed.

"That's not a yes or a no."

"I could answer with either one of those words, and you would not find clarity either."

MJ hated that he had a point, "Do you want a deal, or not?"

"Are you truly so desperate?" He walked past her, taking a sip, "Once the deal is made, it cannot be undone."

"I'm aware," MJ was making a very morally questionable choice.

"When your lover is already committing such great sins to save you," He paused by the river, staring across it, "Just because he is a tarnished soul, willing to sink even lower, does not mean – "

"Because you wouldn't act as he is?"

Samedi knew about Kol? He could watch him while MJ, and Hades, the god of death couldn't? Then again, maybe Hades could. Or, he was receiving souls from a few murders so hadn't thought to look beyond 'ah, yes, a Mikaelson killing.'

"Can any deity of death blame someone for wanting to save their sun?"

There was a double meaning in that world.

"For seeing light for the first time and falling so deeply in love that you'd do anything for them?"

Samedi faced her, "You view yourself as the sun?"

"You know what," MJ looked to the night sky above them, "Yes."

"Quite overconfident."

"I exist in fire," She walked towards him, the silver of her dress making a brushing sound against her legs, "It has tried to consume me, and I have only ever used it to be stronger."

MJ had literally just come from helping control hell fire.

"I'm the sun, because I bring warmth," She wore the description with pride, "But I'm also not afraid to dry the land into a dessert if necessary."

To burn her enemies down.

"I'm not just looking to save myself, I asked if that was an option because you never really know," She got back to the main point, "I don't need you to save me. There is not an inch of me that doubts Kol's ability to do so."

For a moment, she'd been weak, and she'd needed to see him.

She still needed to see him.

MJ craved his voice more than she craved air.

"The deal is about whether I leave you all to the darkness once I'm free."

Samedi narrowed his eyes.

"The collapse of wider afterlives has halted," MJ called out, "It's still mid-crumble, but the power your witches could've used to stabilise you the day I destroyed the ancestral realm clearly never hit."

Which meant?

"The ancestral realm hasn't been fully destroyed yet."

His eyes gleamed in confirmation, "You wish for a hand in completing it?"

"I think it's tied to me," MJ ignored the first goad, "When I come back, that last string holding the spirits in these walls..."

She stomped three times, and three faces seemed to flash in the river, a silent scream on their fleeting expression.

"...Breaks."

And she truly would've won against the haunt-er's of her childhood.

"I'm trapped in the eye of a storm, and that's why no one's been able to find me until now," She theorised, "Kol will."

"And?" Samedi swished his glass, "Do you want to send me to help him?"

"I think you should be doing everything in your power to help regardless of my answers today," She kicked her silver heels back off, no clue when they'd reappeared, feeling the grass beneath her feet, "My deal?"

After seeing Persephone's empty throne?

"There's a piece of your wife lingering in me," MJ called out, "You're going to help me get her out."

Something burned in his eyes, revealing that she was on to something.

Samedi wasn't mad at her about Maman's Brigitte's lack of return, despite MJ's interactions with the Verite Nwa seeming to have released her, meaning, there was information she didn't know at play. And his ability to find her so easily as everyone else failed?

He clearly had a way to hone in.

"Or, I'm not having my baby."

There was something incredibly satisfying about watching an ancient Lwa freeze mid-wine-sip.

"You're all too used to me just doing the right thing to save the day," MJ explained herself, "But where has that actually gotten me?"

Imprisoned for four years with no help from anyone.

"Kol will bring me back, and when he does, I will not be having our baby out of pure spite towards the lot of you," She finished the point, "And you will fade into nothingness, never to see your wife ever again."

He held his head high, a look in his eye as strong as lightning, "What do you think you know of my wife?"

"She possessed me," MJ reminded him, "She somehow got bound to The Nwa, and when it claimed me, it gave her access to me."

He didn't deny it.

"There's a piece of my soul in the realm of the living, in The Nwa, still," She explained, "And, I think it's holding all the magic in there, when it was meant to be let out."

Hence, Brigitte's lack of appearances and Tia's continued struggle in the city.

"If you can help me find her?" MJ gestured to herself, then out, "My magic's slowly waking up. I can get her out of me, free her fully from the book, and potentially find my partner in the process."

The Nwa had to be on Kol; if her soul was in it, he'd be using it in the spells.

"How does this benefit you at all?" Samedi called out.

"Right now, I'm out of sync with reality," MJ pointed out, "Only specific people can tune in - I need something stronger to give me a way back."

A firmer bridge, or a path cut through the realms.

"You can find me while also jumping to the realm of the living," She gestured, "I'll assume other Lwa can too?"

And people like Hades.

"If she's out, I have a feeling this possession thing creates a bond that goes both ways," She thought about her brother and Legba, "She'll be able to draw me out, in the realm of the living, the same way I drew her out."

Samedi's lips twitched up in confirmation.

"And if she can do that, Kol might actually have a way to bring me back."

That didn't involve Hope, The Twins, or Klaus.

"So...?"

"Bold gambit," Samedi stepped so close that he could've touched her face if he'd wanted, "Using a baby as a bargaining chip."

"If you're all going to act like my life suddenly matters more because I'm pregnant," She retorted, "Why don't I get to use that?"

MJ. Refused. To. Feel. Guilty.

It was all a bluff.

She was having her child. She wanted her child. She'd officially said it out loud, and she was sticking to it, and she'd never actually do that to Kol, but...the deities who seemed to want their child didn't need to know that.

"It's not a baby yet," She did mean that, to be honest, "It's a clump of cells."

Who she couldn't wait to meet, and protect, and love.

"I want to give you guys what you want," She wasn't quite sure if she was channelling Katherine, or her mother, or, even, if she was being honest, Elijah, "But I am also so incredibly willing to live the rest of my immortal life without them if you're truly so desperate to give up on your wife."

Pain flashed in his eyes.

"Do we have a deal?"

"I help your quest to complete your spells," He spoke the terms, "And you promise to have our anchoring baby."

"My baby," MJ didn't blink, voice low, "Whatever they represent to you spirits does not outweigh the fact they are my kid first."

If her child was going to be born, releasing some mystical energy that stabilised the collapsing realms of the dead, then there wasn't anything MJ could do to stop that. Well, unless she found some different naturally created immortal thing to take that place. What she could do was make sure those spirits knew they could not cross her to mess with her child.

"And we're not simply completing spells, we're ensuring I come back to life," She hammered home what the deal was so he couldn't backtrack, "The baby's life isn't the only one that matters – hell, it doesn't exist without me."

She'd made the joke with Tyler, how it felt like she was unintentionally becoming a misogynistic cliché...well, nope! She refused! She would do everything for her baby, but that did not change the fact she was a real person, with a life, and breath, and that was what this deal with about. Her death was a betrayal of her; it was not about killing Kol's baby – it was about killing someone who'd done everything for everyone.

"So, if you don't help me live, it won't ever get to," She mused, "I'm all about that Planned Parenthood prenatal planning"

"Then," Samedi shifted closer, "We have a deal."