Her dreams had been unpleasant.

It was as though her subconscious had decided to plague her with every memory of her time with Klaus.

She saw the good and bad. The pleasant and terrible. Every last kiss and punch she'd thrown at him. The arguments they'd had. The way they'd fallen in to bed afterward to make up for any tension. It had been toxic and she only just seemed to realize it.

She didn't want to think that she made a mistake. She loved Klaus. He could be incredibly good and selfless and kind. But their relationship had always been toxic. Sticking as friends was their best bet. They could still be honest with each other. But once they started getting more intimate, it led to more worries and problems.

She woke up tired and bitter. Shuffling about in annoyance, she went down and ate breakfast before heading for the exit.

"Where are you off to?"

She turned and saw Elijah. "Off to see Vincent," she said simply. "Just to see what we find. Don't feel like staying here."

"I will accompany you," he offered. "Hayley is going to do some investigating, and I believe I would benefit from being away from my brother."

She snorted. "So we're both pissed at him?"

Elijah smirked. "'Pissed,' yes, I like that word. Let us go see how Vincent is doing."

He sped the two of them away to Vincent's apartment. They knocked on the door and soon, the witch opened.

"What do you want now?" Vincent said to Elijah.

"Can we at least pretend to be civilized?" asked the Original.

"We're supposed to be civil? Does Marcel know that? I helped Beatrix because she deserves my help. The rest of you have him trapped in your dungeon."

"Please, invite us in," said Elijah. "We have things to discuss. Marcel will only be detained until we can be sure he is free of this thing's vile influence."

Vincent sighed. "You Mikaelson's, you always find a way to get right back on top, don't you? I bet you've got a plan all figured out."

Elijah nodded. "As a matter of fact, I do. A rather festive one. Let me tell you about it."

Vincent pursed his lips, and looked over at Beatrix, as if deciding that he'd do this, only for her. "Well, if it's gonna help me fight this thing, you're gonna have to know what you're up against. Come in before I change my mind."

"Wonderful," said Beatrix quietly as the two walked in. They found Vincent had pinned maps to the wall, covering them in post-its and red string.

He stepped in front of the maps and beckoned toward them. "Beatrix and I had already discussed how this thing has been haunting the city for a very long time. Before, all we really knew was that this spirit practiced some very dark magic to try to get back into this world. That's why it tried to sacrifice those kids. That's why it tried to do the exact same thing to Marcel and to Klaus. Because if it kills them, if they die, it absorbs all of their power." He pointed over the post its. "This is the history of the city. This is the ebb and flow of violence and tragedy. Look, this is, um, Madame LaLaurie, this is uh, The Axeman. I mean the list goes on and on and on and on and on and sometimes it's hidden, but if you know what you're looking for, right, there's always a sign it's The Hollow. And when it does bubble up, it always do so in a pattern of four."

"Four," murmured Beatrix. "Not exactly the most sacred number in the book. We know that it wants to get back, and it reaches through the desperate to try and gain a foothold. All we know now is that she wants to have me. We're related distantly."

"And this might be a reach, but pay attention to the numbers— you were born in 1684. You were thought to be dead in 1914. You were trapped in a continuous loop of the year 1994. What year was your mother born?"

"1665," said Beatrix. "Why?"

"Think— either you or your mother would have been perfect vessels for The Hollow. But your mother was born a year too late. For some reason, the number four appears at the end of three major dates in your life. So the number four means something, but we have to figure out what."

"What we need is someone who could speak to us of its desires, of its weaknesses," said Elijah. "I pitched the idea for this party because I want all of the supernaturals in New Orleans to attend. I want them in one room."

"So you think this person might be at your party," mused Vincent.

"I'm counting on it," said Elijah. "I'm counting on you to help me find them."

"I can do that," said Vincent with a nod. "But Beatrix— you shouldn't be there. Not anywhere in the open. Their magic is dark and they will try to subdue you."

She threw her hands in the air. "So now I'm blocked from attending a party, too?"

"It is only a recommendation for protection," said Elijah. "Of course, in the end, we all know that you will do whatever you want, regardless of our input."

Beatrix sighed. "I'll do my best to stay out of the way. I'll keep Marcel company."

Vincent seemed pleased. "Yes. I like the idea of that. Elijah, we both know that Marcel isn't infected by The Hollow anymore. It's absurd to keep him in your dungeon. At least let her keep him company."

"So be it," said Elijah. "Speak with him, Beatrix. If by the end of tomorrow, you believe he deserves to be let out, we will release him."

Beatrix nodded. "Good. Thank you."

They returned to the Compound hours later (once Elijah had laid out the details of the party and Vincent had given them some extra information) to find Klaus chiseling an ice sculpture. All around, compelled servants were setting up decorations for the party, with a Mardi Gras theme.

"You've outdone yourself, clearly," said Elijah. "You followed the suggestions I left for you."

Klaus didn't turn to face them. "It's such a shame these lovely linens will soon be red with blood."

Elijah frowned. "Violence must only be seen as a last resort, it will only weaken our position."

Klaus spun on his heel and turned to Beatrix, holding out the chisel. "Yes, well, I'm a creature of very specific habits, aren't I? I can't help it."

"Seriously?" she muttered. "Don't point at me like this is somehow my fault. Elijah says he wants to create a false sense of security. As in music, champagne, and no blood."

"Some stealthy reconnaissance," added Elijah with a tight-lipped smile. "Do we understand each other, Niklaus?"

Klaus was not pleased. "They threatened me. They threatened my child. Bloodshed is inevitable."

"And with that mindset, you're trying to protect Hope?" asked Beatrix with a scoff. "She quite literally worships you. You don't want her to see the monster, do you?"

"I do not wish for her to see me as a monster!" Klaus snapped. "But I cannot sit idly by while threats to our family go unanswered."

"They won't," said Elijah. "Now, let me do this. Please. And should any turmoil arise, should anyone dare to disrupt our kingdom, let them answer to me. I do not wish for there to be any more problems."

He walked away, and Beatrix and Klaus shared a very tense moment. Obviously, they both had things to say, but neither of them wanted to be the first to speak.

"I will never change," Klaus murmured at last, turning away from her. "You will be better without me."

"You didn't think that maybe, just maybe, I felt better with you? I didn't want it to end like this, but clearly, you gave up on us."

He whirled back to face her. "You sought to sacrifice yourself for all of us! How was I to live with myself, knowing the woman I love, chose to die for my sake? For the sake of my daughter? All I have ever done is drag you in harm's way and demand your help and make you feel insignificant. I am not a bloody saint and I will never be one. I want more than anything for us to be together but I can't fathom how I will overcome the pain of losing you. In these years that remain, you should be with someone who won't treat you this way!"

"You cut me off so it won't hurt as bad when I die?" she snapped. "Wow. I don't want anyone else Klaus. I want you. But you don't want me enough. And you know what, I do deserve better. Better than a coward who is so paranoid that he doesn't realize that he just shoved aside the one person who never turned their back on him. The person who loved him unconditionally despite his existing flaws. We're all fucked up, Klaus! None of us are good people! We've all killed. We've all had blood on our hands. I'm no better than you! I'm just as dark and sadistic! You can't seriously want this to be over. P-Please..."

She had teared up. He simply shook his head. "I'm far worse than you, love," he murmured. "And I can't be your partner. As your friend, I can make sure you don't get hurt. But any greater attachment will leave you vulnerable. They'll hurt you to hurt me. This is the only way I know of, to keep you safe."

She whimpered in frustration and covered her face. "For fuck's sake, Klaus, there will be danger whether I'm your friend or your girlfriend! Why—"

He grabbed her shoulders and shook her roughly. "I cannot control myself, Beatrix, can't you bloody see that?" he said angrily. "I will always pose a danger to you but I can't completely let you go, or it will destroy me! Stop your incessant pleading and fall in love with a good man or woman who—"

"Shut up!" she screamed, shoving him back. "Klaus, I don't want anyone else! Why can't you see that? I-I thought— I thought that this would last, I thought that we were going to get through everything this time. Fucking hell— I am in love with you, and have been since 1830! I thought that in the future, we would be happy! You and I would eventually get married... Elijah would marry Hayley... Hope would have a functional family."

"Well, you thought wrong!" he bellowed. "I don't want to marry you! I never should have rekindled this relationship— it was a mistake! I knew the entire time that I was getting myself into a problem, and I kept at it! How can I protect my daughter when I'm worried about you, too? It isn't possible! Stop trying, Beatrix!"

"You're pushing me away because you think you'll hurt me, but it hurts me more to know that you only want us to be friends! Klaus, please, for the love of—"

Elijah sped between them as they both lunged at each other.

"That's quite enough," he said sternly. "Clearly, civilized talk is out of the question."

"Tell her to stop bloody pursuing me, then!" Klaus exclaimed. "She has several other bachelors to choose from, and yet she insists that it's me she wants."

"And that's not bloody changing for anyone, Klaus!" Beatrix retorted.

Elijah sighed loudly. "You both seek to protect each other. What if you table this conversation until The Hollow is defeated? Perhaps, you can reevaluate your relationship at that time."

The Heretic and hybrid glared at each other in grudging agreement.

"Until then, act respectfully for the sake of Hope," continued Elijah. "We needn't worry her with obvious tension between the two of you."

"I can agree with that," said Beatrix quietly as she stepped back.

"I will agree, so long as she doesn't attend the party," said Klaus.

Beatrix made to argue, but Elijah held his hand up. "We already have an arrangement for this, do we not?"

"But—"

"It is safer. It will give you a chance to reconnect with Marcel."

This time, it was Klaus who opened his mouth to say his piece, but Elijah kept him from speaking. "There is nothing wrong with her wanting to see him. If she thinks he deserves to be let out, he will be. No objections."

Klaus gritted his teeth. "Fine. But I am going to escort her. And it will be just before the party starts."

"Fine," Beatrix mocked.

She went up to take a very angry shower, attacking the water as it came out of the showerhead. She turned several droplets into shards of ice and made them crash into each other before disappearing down the drain. She rubbed the soap over herself furiously, ignoring the fact that she was crying as the warm water ran over her body.

She got out and stumbled around her room, cursing and muttering under her breath as she tried to put together an outfit. It took forever, because she was so angry, she kept grabbing all the wrong things. But at least, she was ready by the time she heard the compelled musicians playing their first round of jazz.

Klaus had been waiting at her door in a suit, once she was done. She had put on a dress even though she was going to be spending the next several hours in the dungeons.

They did not speak as he led her down through the tunnels, to where Marcel was trapped in a circle of salt, with candles around it, the spell strong enough that Beatrix would have taken nearly ten minutes siphoning it off. Clever work by Freya.

"How the mighty have fallen," said Klaus in a taunting voice as they reached Marcel, who was shackled. "How the tables have turned..." he opened the gate for Beatrix and allowed her to step in first. "I'm still trying to find the right idiom."

Marcel glared at Klaus distastefully. "How about you and your fancy jacket and tie go straight to Hell?"

Klaus shrugged. "What goes around, comes around." He extracted the familiar blade of Papa Tunde. "I think that fits."

"You ransacked my place," Marcel scoffed. "Classy."

"Well, to the victor goes the spoils. And now that you know I have it, you know I can use it at my leisure."

"Then use it," Marcel snapped as he stood up. "Or else go back to your stupid party. And why is she here?"

Klaus smirked, twirling the blade in his palm. "She wishes to see you. At the very least, the both of you can hear our merriment above. The boundary spell will render you both invisible to anyone outside our bloodline."

He shoved Beatrix into the circle. "Take your time, love," he said, no longer smirking. "Freya will release you when you ask for it."

Marcel caught her as she stumbled in. "You're more desperate than I thought, Klaus," he said coldly. "You think that waving that blade around is going to scare me."

Klaus shook his head. "You misunderstand. This is not to scare you, it is merely to illuminate your conundrum. You see, there are those who care about you, who would see you free: Joshua, Vincent..."

"Threatening my friends, that is low," Marcel snapped.

"And then there's that girl you've been seeing," Klaus continued, as if he hadn't heard him. "Sofya. Well, come on. Tell me about her. After all, the more familiar I am with her, the easier it will be to avoid any little... misunderstandings."

"Don't worry about her," Marcel responded. "She's a mercenary. She works for the highest bidder. So it's just business, with some pleasure."

Klaus seemed to take this as a challenge. "Well, then, I do very much look forward to meeting her."

He sped away, the gate slamming shut behind him. Marcel turned to face Beatrix. "What the fuck is up with you two?" he demanded.

They had all the time in the world. Beatrix put her hand against his and let him enter her memories, replaying what The Hollow had shown her, and what Klaus had said afterward.

Marcel didn't look at all surprised, but he did seem sympathetic. "You're going to help get me out?" he asked quietly.

"Of course I am," she said, sitting down on the floor. "You don't deserve to be in here. At least by tomorrow night. I plan to stay here with you until then."

"You could be doing something better."

"You're my true family, Marcel. I'm not abandoning you. Especially not now that Klaus and I are having a major disagreement."

He snorted. "If things were normal, this would be a casual 'your parents need time away from each other' conversation. We'd start the whole shared custody thing..."

She laughed lightly. "Yeah, we would... look, I'm sorry. I know you felt betrayed because I didn't side with you. I haven't been the best mother figure. There was so much I should have done ages ago. I should have taken you from Klaus. Helped you grow up somewhere else. They remind me that I'm free, and like an idiot, I stay."

"They were your family before you met me," he said reasonably. "And they are terrible, honestly, but neither of us can stay away, can we? I will always love Rebekah. You'll always love the four— well, now five of them, with Freya. Freya, I can tolerate. Rebekah, definitely. Even Kol has been better lately. Elijah and Klaus... they're just the worst of the bunch."

Beatrix leaned her head back against the rocks. "I should have stood by you, Marcel. I should have helped you get to a better place after what happened with Davina."

"I can own up to the fact that I didn't grieve in a healthy way," he admitted. "I shouldn't have lashed out. I saw how grief destroyed you. How it brought you so much regret and made you lose it. I knew it was wrong, and I went through it anyway. I cast you aside when you were just trying to keep me from hurting people. I... I said I didn't want to hurt Rebekah but I hurt her and you by hurting the three brothers."

He clasped his hands together. "I'll be honest. I don't think I can ever forgive Elijah. I don't think I can ever forget that he killed me. But the others... in time..."

She took his hands and squeezed them. "I'm so proud of you, Marcel," she whispered. "You turned out better than all of us."

He smiled a bit. "Well, I owe it to the wonderful mom I had. You were the one that held me if I cried. The one that showed me how to deal with pain in a healthy way. The one who defended me and read to me. You nursed me when I was sick. You made sure that Klaus never overwhelmed me with materials. You risked your safety to help me be with Rebekah. You came back, every time, and you always took care of me. I... I don't think I've ever told you 'Happy Mother's Day' or anything. You deserve more than that."

Beatrix leaned her head on his shoulder. "You can thank me once I convince them to let you out of here, alright? And once we defeat The Hollow... we'll go on a vacation. We'll bring Sofya with us, if you'd like, and Josh. We'll have some fun and let loose."

"I like the sound of that," Marcel said.

Beatrix remained with him the entire night. She summoned some blood bags that she'd vanished for the both of them to drink. She didn't try to get out to speak to the others. She enjoyed her time with Marcel, relaying memories and helping him feel like he wasn't alone. She knew that he deserved freedom, and she would fight for it.

They heard footsteps late the next afternoon, after they'd been laughing at some of the funniest moments they could recall.

It was Hope, carrying a small little toy soldier. "Hi, Aunt Trix," she said brightly as she approached Marcel. She held up the soldier. "I think this is yours."

She tossed it to him and he caught it, observing it with great interest. "Hope," he said. "I haven't seen this in a century."

"So, you're the little boy who used to live in my house," she said with great interest.

"Once upon a time, I lived here with your dad and Aunt Trix, yeah," answered Marcel.

Hope furrowed her eyebrows. "He keeps you down here because he thinks you want to kill him. Do you?"

Marcel shook his head, but avoided the discussion for the moment. "You're pretty courageous, you know. Coming down here and talking to a stranger."

Hope shrugged. "I'm not scared. I'm a Mikaelson witch. And my Aunt Trix is your friend, which means you must be good, too."

Marcel smiled. "I'll tell you what, let's start fresh, alright? It is very good to see you again, Hope Mikaelson. My name's Marcel."

"Marcel," Hope repeated. "Aunt Trix told me about you."

Beatrix nodded. "Yes, remember that I told you fun stories about how your dad and I had raised another boy?"

Hope giggled. "You told me how my dad tried to teach you both to paint, and you made a big mess."

Marcel laughed. "I remember that day. I didn't turn out to be good at art."

"You're probably just good at a different type of art," said Hope seriously. "Aunt Trix said she's not good at art, but she's a doctor, and healing people is art."

Marcel raised his eyebrows. "Hmm, well what can be art for me?"

"I found your books of rhymes," said Hope. "You were good at reading complicated things. I still had to pause between sentences."

Beatrix grinned. "Oh, yes, he was very good at reading. He learned very quickly. He could have been cut out for the theater. We used to act out plays from Shakespeare."

Hope was clearly very interested in Marcel. She sat down across from them and began asking a series of questions, which Marcel and Beatrix took turns answering. It always made Beatrix happy to see how smart her niece was. She used such big words and proposed such intriguing ideas.

"You know," said Marcel after awhile, "I'm surprised your parents haven't stormed down here looking for you."

"My mom trusts me," said Hope simply.

"Yeah, but your dad's never trusted anyone in his life."

Hope made a face. "I know he trusts Aunt Trix a lot. If he took care of you while you were little, why do you hate him? What did he do to you?"

Marcel sighed. "Your dad and Aunt Trix, they raised me together. Your dad made me who I am. Now, you ask if I hate him. Well... it's hard to hate the person who made you what you are. You just end up hating yourself. The truth is I would like to hate your dad, I really would. It would make things a lot easier. But, um... you can't hate someone who you loved for so long."

Hope thought it over as Beatrix looked over at Marcel proudly. "Well, that makes sense. He's like your dad, too, after all. I could never hate my mom."

"And I could never hate your Aunt Trix," noted Marcel. "She's like your mom, to me."

Hope smiled over at Beatrix. "She was like a mom to me, too. She took care of me and my mom for a long time."

"Both of you are like my adopted children," said Beatrix, patting Marcel's shoulder. "And I am so blessed to have you both in my life. Marcel is all grown up now, but he turned out really well. He's a good person to look up to, Hope."

She nodded. "Marcel is my friend," said Hope confidently. "And—"

But suddenly the ceiling shook, sending dust over them. They heard the sound of grunts and objects breaking upstairs.

"Something's wrong," said Hope, standing up. "I have to go."

"Stop," said Marcel as he and Beatrix got to their feet. "It's not safe. Let us out of the circle first."

"I can't," said Hope awkwardly. "My dad will be mad."

"No, he won't," promised Beatrix. "We're not going to let anything happen to you."

Hope shook her head. "I can protect myself, and my mom and dad. I'm strong enough to stop the bad guys. I'm stronger than anybody thinks."

"We know you're strong," said Marcel urgently as the ceiling shook again. "That's how I know you can let us out of here. I need you to trust me right now. Your dad rescued me. He and your Aunt Trix raised me, and I knew your mom when she was a baby. We're family. What does your mommy say about family?"

"That we stick together, always and forever," Hope recited.

"That's right," said Beatrix, putting her hand on the invisible barrier. "I know your dad probably wanted me to stay here, but we have to help them. I'll siphon from in here, and you'll stop the spell, just how I taught you, alright?"

Hope nodded. "Okay, Aunt Trix," she said, putting her hand beside hers. The two closed their eyes, and there was the sense of the air clearing after a few seconds. Marcel and Beatrix jumped out as they heard footsteps approaching.

"He's down here!"

Marcel grabbed Hope's shoulders. "I'm going to take you someplace safe. I want you to close your eyes and sing. Beatrix and I will be there soon."

He sped away with her, and Beatrix turned as three vampires entered the room. She smirked and fake curtsied. "Gentlemen," she said sweetly.

"Where's Marcel?" One demanded in a gruff voice.

"Marcel?" She asked innocently. "Hmm... no idea."

She sped forward to the nearest one, shoving her hand through his chest and letting his heart fall out through the other side. The other two vampires converged on her, but Marcel arrived just then, snapping their necks before biting into both of their necks.

Another vampire came down. Beatrix twisted her wrist, and he cried out in pain. Murmuring under her breath, she flicked her fingers, his heart flying out into her hand. They shoved the four bloody bodies aside, listening to the scuffling dying out upstairs.

"Your hands, come on," said Beatrix, since both had their arms stained with blood. "Nazif net."

The blood disappeared, and Marcel nodded before speeding them to where Hope was singing softly to herself at the edge of the tunnels.

"Good job, Hope," said Marcel as he scooped her up. "All's well, now. We're going to go out through the tunnels back to the streets, and we'll wait for your dad there, alright?"

She nodded, and the three sped out of the opening of the tunnels, appearing back in the French Quarter, but above ground, in the dark streets that had only a few people scattered about walking. They sat on a bench next to a planter with a tree.

Within minutes, Klaus had found them.

"Dad," said Hope when she saw him. "What happened?"

Klaus's knuckles were stained with blood. Marcel and Beatrix shared a look, and decided it was best to go. Marcel took her hand and sped her to his penthouse, which Beatrix hadn't yet visited.

"Wow, this is luxurious," she mused once they'd both calmed their breathing and he'd poured them some drinks.

"Looks good though, right?" He took a swig of bourbon. "The more modern aspect was defined fun to add."

"I bet you compelled the best interior designers," she chuckled. She looked up at him. "You were really kind to her today. And the way you addressed her questions... you're a good man, Marcel. You really did turn out better than those of us who raised you."

"Hey, I learned from the best," he said, motioning toward her. He then perked up, and the two turned to see Klaus walking through the door. "If you came for a fight," said Marcel in a warning tone, "it ain't gonna end well for you."

"I didn't come to fight," said Klaus. He strode in calmly. "You told her to close her eyes and to sing. I used to say that when you were young."

Marcel hummed. "Yeah, well, she's a better listener than I was. You didn't tell her. About our history."

Klaus rolled his eyes. "Right, yeah. How dare I deny my daughter the heartwarming tale of the boy I loved as a son..."

"... that is now the man you hate enough to keep locked in your basement," finished Marcel. "Beatrix told her."

"And she was at perfect liberty to," said Klaus, ignoring her. "But the thing is— we're not men, are we, Marcellus? We're monsters. And I intend to protect my daughter from that truth for as long as I can."

Marcel looked over at Beatrix before facing Klaus again. "I knew you were a monster from the moment I met you. Now, I may not have known you were a vampire, but I knew you. And when I found out the truth, it made sense why Beatrix had constantly been there to keep you from being too abrasive. Why she had stayed even though you didn't treat her well. She stayed for me."

Klaus turned away from the both of them, pretending to admire the paintings on Marcel's wall. "The Hollow wants the two of us dead. And it will tear through anyone to get what it wants. It doesn't matter who. Elijah, Hayley, Hope. Beatrix. I won't let it take them. And I won't let it take you. The only chance we have to survive is if we work together."

"Alright," said Marcel faster than Beatrix expected him to. "But are we really going to all work together, or are you two going to keep acting like my divorced mom and dad?"

Klaus and Beatrix shared a look before turning away. "We're going to act civil," said Beatrix quietly. "Once The Hollow is defeated, we'll discuss everything."

Marcel nodded. "Well, at least this didn't happen back in the 1820s. I can't imagine how a custody battle would have happened between you two..."