a/n: I love Kol Mikaelson so much lmao - Bea
(The gifs come from tvdversegifs on tumblr)
However, friendly reminder that Nate Buzz is trash, and Kol would eat him for breakfast, for MJ *peace signs*

Also, MJ's gonna be very up and down. Enjoy the up <3

"I'm taking a trip down memory lane while trying to break a vampire sire bond – if you happen to know anything about that?

Kol was walking down the streets of The Quarter, headphones in, taking in the sun. Actually feeling it, not just knowing it was there, trying to understand what was supposedly so enjoyable about the light after ten centuries without it. It was supposed to be making him feel better.

When he'd first woken up in his new body, the warmth had been making him feel better.

I'm walking down all these streets I used to know, and it's like I'm seeing ghosts...just...all the memories floating around...

He didn't want to think about ghosts.

I lived in Marigny, Mandeville Street if we're being specific. I'm basically on the route my brother and I would take whenever we'd walk to school.

A girl was walking, talking to someone on the phone, and a flick of his wrist had the wind blowing up her skirt.

She panicked, shoving it back down and looking around, embarrassed.

Kol was smirking at the sight for about a second.

Then the rush was gone, and he was back to being bored.

We'd always go through Jackson Square, to Orleans Street, then onto Bourbon.

Kol had been following the instructions as he kept relistening to MJ's voice.

He was trying to like the city – he really was. Enjoy it, enjoy everything he'd been missing, not just since he'd died, but since he'd been turned. Humans were supposed to be happier. They weren't supposed to feel murderous tendencies or rapidly forming boredom paired with uncontrollable anger.

He was supposed to be better off.

"We'd walk and play dumb games; spotting tourists by how they acted, working out real street magic versus the fake stuff."

His next attempt to find fun came from a fruit stand, where he picked up the shiniest red apple from the top and turned before the owner could ask him to pay. When the guy tried to catch him, an easy snap of Kol's fingers sent the rest of the apples tumbling to the floor, the owner too busy dealing with that to chase him.

That at least got a spring in his step.

Then he reached a corner, pausing to pick a direction, only to find his shoulders sinking at the sight of all the people rushing about around him.

He'd take me to the art shop on Toulouse and let me sit and talk to the owner for ages...she taught me how to mix paints properly.

Kol had been to the art shop.

He'd thought he'd take one step inside, have his usual 'oh god, art' response, and the weight would get a little less heavy – but all it made him realise was that his reaction had been a learnt one.

One he'd made himself do to irritate Klaus.

He'd even tried focusing on the list of reasons MJ had given him in Mexico – when she'd been trying to talk herself into going back to Mystic Falls despite how they felt about each other. All the reasons why they wouldn't work. But he still had the list of counters waiting on the tip of his tongue. 

He was a witch and alive, and she wasn't.

He was Kol Mikaelson. He shouldn't care.

His entire personality had been built around not caring about anything, especially about some mortal he'd entertained himself with for a few months.

But he did care.

"My mum was always strict about magic. We could only do it in public if she was with us, but at home, it was 'fair game.' It was a dumb rule, and I was always breaking it."

He wanted to blame the city. Kol had been adamantly against New Orleans during his last life, and he wasn't about to take any of his comments back. Being alive was supposed to feel good, and the reason he wasn't 'getting the hype' had to be the city.

It was MJ's city, but she wasn't in it, and he'd never liked it to begin with, so how was he supposed to enjoy it?

"I liked seeing the ways I could subtly do things, but the problem was the park. The park was just – I couldn't help myself.

He pulled out his phone and flicked through everything he'd been able to find. It had been over a year since he'd died, which had felt like an eternity, but wasn't long in terms of memory: his own and the digital.

Kol had learnt how to use phones after he'd been un-daggered, enough to know how to back things up anyway. He'd learnt how to save files and download them onto other devices when he'd wanted to start keeping the things MJ would send him.

Things like voice notes.

"I liked messing with the plants...anyway, rambling. Sorry if you listened to that expecting an actual point."

The sound of MJ opening a door meant the file was over, and if he wanted to hear her voice again, he'd need to press replay.

Or find a different one to listen to.

Kol didn't want to do anything.

He'd started to realise that something must've gone very wrong during his first lifetime. Vampires were supposed to be heightened, but waking up in a foreign body? It was like his brain had been reset.

At first, it had been great. Kol had been planning how to find MJ. How to explain the situation so she wouldn't panic since his mother was involved. That his mother had actually helped him, the witch to get him from Mystic Falls to New Orleans so he could find her.

Then, Davina Claire had told him that MJ was dead.

Kol had thought he'd been in mourning after Finn had died, despite his distaste for his siblings. He thought he'd felt it even harder when Klaus had tricked them all into thinking he'd been killed too. He thought his anger and irritation was mourning, but he had been wrong.

It had been a sheet of 'this is how I'm supposed to feel'.

In a mortal body, his brain back on, and all he needed was to hear her voice again.

He'd tried to find her spirit, hoping her ties to New Orleans might've saved her from the destruction of The Other Side, but there'd been nothing.

If MJ had been in New Orleans, surely, they would've consecrated her?

Except, she was a siphoner.

He had to take that into account. The witches might not have wanted to preserve her magic.

All Kol needed to do then was find the body, or the ashes, which meant working out who'd been with her last – witches or his family. If it was his family, he assumed Elijah would've been in charge of 'clean-up' since Kol had completely lost faith in Klaus after asking around about a siphoner Floare. The witches working with his mother didn't have pleasant stories to tell about what the pair were up to in the city together.

Kol had seen MJ in New Orleans.

He'd seen her in a funeral possession, then she'd performed some kind of magic relating to spirits in The Compound, and he'd lost sight of her again. She'd been in the city, safe from her family but at the mercy of his. Losing sight of her was potentially her death.

From the corner of the street, he could see Davina.

She was sitting outside a café talking to a guy with curly black hair and an anxious look on his face.

Kol paused.

He'd been hoping Davina would be easy enough to handle. She'd blushed at him just saying hello. He could fish around for more information on MJ, get the information his mother wanted, and be done with it all. But after agreeing to potentially grab coffee with him, she was out with somebody else!

That made him smile a little bit as he watched.

Maybe he wouldn't need to charm her to get her to spill her secrets. Maybe the sick feeling in his stomach about the fact he'd half-flirted with her would go away, and she'd dub him a friend, and he could just find out what she had up her sleeve.

Kol recognised the guy too. He didn't know his name, but he knew it was the same person who'd ended up with MJ's car after Tyler Lockwood and Caroline Forbes had visited the city.

That meant he'd probably known and been MJ's friend too.

When Kol had seen the car, he'd done a double-take.

He'd been back in the realm of the living for three days, been given strict instructions by his mother to 'lay low' and 'readjust back into society' until she decided what she wanted him to do in return for his resurrection.

Kol hadn't been able to resist walking past The Compound, which had technically been his home once, to see if he could spot anybody.

He'd found MJ's car.

He'd thought he would've found her coming back to it eventually, so loitered, but instead, he'd found her two best friends. He'd been a moment away from revealing himself to ask them where she was, Tyler's vague answers being less than ideal. The only reason he hadn't was because Camille O'Connell had been there.

She was on the list of people his mother had started making, connected to Klaus.

He hadn't wanted Klaus and Elijah to know he was still alive that quickly. He didn't even think they'd care he was, and if they'd found out, they would've tried to drag him to their side of things. He'd just wanted to find MJ before his mother could potentially pull her into the fight.

He'd assumed Tyler's answers about MJ not needing the car for a little while had been sensible.

Kol had seemed a little dodgy, waiting by a random car and asking over-invasive questions, but in reality, it was because she'd died, and they'd been trying to work out a cover story.

Kol hadn't seen either of them since – or the guy now sitting opposite Davina.

Davina didn't have a clue she was being watched.

She was just watching Sam, finally snapping by slamming her hand on top of his to stop it from tapping against the table. He was fidgeting, studying every face around them for potential wolves, and she didn't like it.

"If you really feel this unsafe," Davina tried not to think about how his fingers felt beneath hers, "You didn't need to come."

Sam shook his head quickly, "It's fine."

She gave him a loot, pulling her hand back nervously.

"It is, Vina," Sam let himself relax for a second, "I've missed you."

"You wouldn't have to miss me if you hadn't gone missing."

His turn to give her a look.

"What can the wolves do to you?"

"It's not about me, and you know it," Sam sighed, "I don't want another August situation."

After the MJ announcement, Sam had forced himself to remain in The Quarter, hoping he could get through to some of his old pack-mates about ditching Francesca. The witches and a lot of his old pack still didn't click he was a hybrid, and he was trying to keep it that way, but they had clicked he was a member of a family. Once they'd realised he was never gonna take a moonlight ring and join them, they'd been instructed to kill him.

The people who'd tried that had been left to lick their wounds, and his mum had then been cornered about him.

That experience was all he needed to go into hiding with Jackson and the other wolves still living in The Bayou.

"But I'm here," He tried for a smile, "How've you been?"

Davina honestly didn't know how to answer that question.

"How's school?"

"Honestly regretting going back," She slumped, "I know it's only one more year, but it's so much catch-up."

"Made friends?"

"Some."

The word was cautious, her eyes pinned on his reaction.

"Missed you too, though."

"I am sorry, Vina," He leant forward a little, "I know it sucks, but if you're seen out with me, it might get you on their hit-list too."

"I can handle myself."

"And I don't doubt that," He smiled, "But you've finally got some peace from the witches – I don't wanna be the reason you lose that. Especially since I don't exactly wanna fight my pack – "

He stopped at Davina's sad expression, staring at her coffee cup.

"Vina?"

"They're not your pack anymore."

"I'm not losing my faith in them."

She slowly looked him in the eye again.

The unwavering confidence in the sentence, clear despite the shades covering sitting on his nose. 

Davina wasn't exactly a 'have faith in people' type of person.

"Jackson's given up, and Hayley's rightfully a mess right now," Sam summed up, "I've gotta believe in the pack for all of us until they're ready to again."

"They're controlled by the witches."

"Exactly," He nodded enthusiastically, "Wolves are meant to be free, and after a while, they'll get sick of it."

"They were fine with the Guerrera's."

"Because they were werewolves. The fact it's now a witch gives me an opportunity."

Davina pulled a sour face, "Is that what you're really doing here? Grabbing coffee with me so you can re-establish yourself and try and seize power?"

"D – "

"Sam – "

"It's not like that!" He pulled his sunglasses off to properly look at her, "I'm here because I wanted to see you."

"Yeah?"

"It's been too long since I've seen you – any of you."

"I couldn't agree more," Klaus appeared next to the table, "You're vanishing man act has made you just shy of useless."

"Look, dude," Sam leant his head back to smile falsely at him, "If you wanna kill me now MJ's not here to stop you, could we not do it in a crowded cafe?"

A beat.

Sam raised a confused eyebrow, watching how slowly Klaus blinked, taking him in.

"...Um?"

"I'm not here to kill you."

"Get lost, Klaus," Davina huffed, not in the mood, "I've gone this long without seeing you, and I was quite enjoying that situation."

"Mind your tone, love," He focused back on Sam, "Where have you been, mate?"

"Me?" He pointed at himself, "You've been MIA the past few months too."

"And now I'm not, and I require your assistance."

"You do?"

"You reek of bog," Klaus noted, "And I'm about to escort a queen into one. You'll be joining us."

"Wait," Sam pushed his chair back a little, "Hayley's looking for the pack?"

"That is the agenda for the day."

"I can take her," He rushed to his feet, "I know where they're – "

"And as much as that might be easier," Klaus put his hand up, "Hayley believes she's lost her identity. We need to show her that that isn't the case."

"So," Sam tried to follow, "What's my purpose?"

Davina was just biting her cheeks in irritation, playing with a bracelet she'd made at the start of the summer.

"To show her that her people are waiting."

"I'm in!"

"Sam," She protested, "You're signing up to his army again? Just like that?"

"My army is his brethren," Klaus didn't even look at her, "We are the only three hybrids in existence."

"If it helps Hayley, I'm in," Sam stood up, "If MJ hadn't been there for me, I wouldn't have even completed the transition – I've gotta help her."

"That's the spirit," Klaus patted him on the back, arm over his shoulder to guide him away from the table.

Sam had tensed at the contact, surprised by its friendliness, only to notice how it tightened the further they got from Davina. Klaus was trying not to start a fight when he had a busy schedule, and any sense of violence from him would set Davina off – they both knew that.

"Klaus – "

His fingers were cutting through skin to make him bleed.

"Say her name one more time," He threatened, "And I'll rip your tongue out."

Sam nodded rapidly, "Under – "

"Ssh," Klaus grip dug down, "Sh – sh – shhhhhhh."

After it was clear Sam got the point, he was released.

Klaus was not in the mood to listen to Sam talk to Hayley about all the things MJ told him. Or did with him. Or how much he missed her. He wasn't ready for them to potential expect him to contribute to their mourning bonding, and he'd never been good at sharing the people he cared about.

The biggest example of that was probably Marcel.

After he'd spent a year living with the Mikaelson's, he'd gotten too comfortable with Elijah, so Klaus had gotten drunk and undaggered Kol. The action had resulted in the death of their staff at the time, drained dry as Klaus's 'apology' present to his baby brother while Rebekah pouted in her room following the loss of her boyfriend at the time – the governor's son who Klaus had also killed.

"Well, you and Marcellus have grown thick as thieves – why should I be alone?"

Klaus had known that Elijah had no patience when it came to Kol's antics. When they'd been travelling, the brief moments they'd be separated always ended with Elijah sending someone to check on him rather than giving his brother any attention himself.

That person would end up dead, and Kol would end up daggered for being difficult.

When they'd daggered him in Cádiz, Elijah had made it very clear he thought Kol would finally snap if they woke him up. He'd go on a rage rampage since they'd taken him from somewhere he'd actually liked, and he'd throw tantrum after tantrum until they left him alone. But if they left him alone, Mikael would find him, and that wouldn't end well.

Mikael only had one White Oak Stake to use, and Kol had always been a wild card.

For all they knew, he'd draw Mikael's attention deliberately as part of his revenge for the daggering and leave one of them to get staked.

With Kol awake, Klaus could have fun with him, AND Elijah would be forced to get involved to stop them.

Meaning Klaus wouldn't have to see him and Marcel together.

It was a win-win for him and some kind of loss for everyone else, all because he couldn't learn to share.

'Dear whoever ends up reading this,

Dear me, maybe, one day, if I end up keeping this around...no judgement older, and hopefully wiser me if you remove this page and burn it, act like it doesn't exist. Absolutely no judgement.

I'm writing this because my mum once told me that writing helps process things, and right now, I really need her. I need to hear her voice, or to feel her hug me again, or anything really. Because I can't keep going on like this. I need her. I need to feel like a kid again, with her and dad wrapping me up and keeping me safe, rather than knowing that they're rotting away somewhere while I'm just alone.

Writing in these dumb diaries she used to by me is all I have left of her, and it's not enough.'

MJ felt her barely beating heart jump.

'No matter what I do, I can't seem to die.

And yes, I have been trying.

I'm running out of options here, and honestly, it feels like the only way out.'

MJ wanted to stop reading.

It felt invasive and dirty – and worst of all?

It hit a little too close to home.

'I've been running for months, and I'm pretty sure I'm going insane. It'll all be over if I just die, and the magic will return to the earth. The line is still open, so I return it, and then I can find peace.

It sounds so simple, but it's really not.

I was brought up to think that I was the only thing about the world I could truly control. We make choices, we are peaceful, and we are kind to others because we are the only thing we can control – and if we are not kind, how can we expect the world to be?

That's probably the only part of the Aonso pacifist bullshit I actually like.

Their optimism that every stranger deserves kindness.

That being kind to others could actually make a difference in a world where the worst humans are the ones with all the power.

That was part of the reason why I took it. The power needed to be safe, and it needed to be with someone willing to wield it, and the only people willing are The Travellers who would use it to commit genocide. I thought it would become a part of me, and I would control it through my choices. Good one.

By taking power, I have lost the ability to choose.

No matter what I try, I can't die. I just kept healing. And the grip of control I once thought I had has been completely eradicated.

Every shadow is screaming at me.

Every spirit that can communicate is trying to.

And I can't live with it anymore.'

MJ was completely bawling.

Everything her mum was describing lined up with how she'd felt through the different points of her life – not just the overwhelming nature of the fire now bound to her veins. The evil shadows of her childhood to the constant conflict of wanting to put up a fight and live and just stopping to get a break. Just dying. Her mum had got it, but she hadn't spoken to her mum since graduation, and she wouldn't be able to unless she got back to the realm of the living and worked out how to talk to spirits at peace again.

The New Orleans plane?

Could she bring her mum out that way?

'The spirits are trying to be helpful. I know that.'

MJ hadn't shared that experience.

'They guide me. They teach me. And I've made a Grimoire to record every single thing they want me to; all the old spells, and new ones, and ones literally just being made that they're sharing with me – and I should be grateful, but I can't get over the mammoth weight of listening to them all.

Their voices are so loud, and I'm such a disappointment.'

MJ forced herself to stand up as she read.

To keep moving before she got stuck as a weeping mess in the middle of her old family home.

But as she walked – as she read, she started to remember things, and she didn't know if the memories made it worse or better.

'Death just enjoys taking people, whether they're good or bad, but for some reason, it won't take me.'

Her mother's heart had been next to the coffee table when MJ had crawled across the floor to pick it up.

'I'm eighteen, and I did one thing, and suddenly I'm a symbol of something.

Okay, maybe I did more than one thing.

I've been on a bit of a Traveller killer spree. It started unintentionally and has now become a bit of a habit. It's fun to show The Travellers that their actions have consequences. That coming for my people will get them wiped out.

You are violent, Ana, and that's nothing to be ashamed of.

If you read this back, I don't you to be ashamed.

Power is violent.

It's meant to invoke fear in people.

You are doing the right thing.'

Marcel used the idea of violence equating to power to rule every now and again.

So did Klaus.

So had Katherine.

But Katherine had also been the one to tell MJ that power just made you a stronger version of who you really were. It didn't have to be evil unless you wanted it to be.

MJ wished she could give her mum a hug as each word hit her eyes, burning into her brain.

She wished she'd spoken to her mum about all the darker moments she'd had when she'd had the chance. Because her mum seemed like someone who might've actually been able to help her, not just flounce about and panic the way Ric had. MJ had just been another layer of stress in Ric's already difficult life, and then he'd died, and she still blamed herself for his death.

Power.

Katherine.

MJ had one-seventh of the power her mother had held on her body, and she'd killed her brother.

Her mother had killed anyone who tried to take the power away from her.

'I've defended my choice over and over. Tried to make people understand that it was to stop the suffering. To make it so, I was the only person in pain – but I don't wanna be in pain anymore.

A boot is pressed into my neck in every dream I have, and I'm choking, and an elder dies, so I don't. I'm utterly powerless, and now, I have all the power, and my eyes just start bleeding, and I can't do anything but run or kill.

I just wanted my people to stop dying, and I'm now the most powerful witch on the planet.'

All their family photos still existed in 1994, so Ryos's face was everywhere, staring at her.

Forcing MJ to think about him.

He'd been willing to kill her, using the justification that he'd bring her back. He'd driven a dagger into her face, left her with scars that weren't healing. White blistering lines on her face and under her jaw.

MJ sunk to her knees, head pressing into the page, splattering her tears over the ink.

He'd done that to her.

Her big brother, the person she loved unconditionally, who she'd waited to call her back every Sunday for eight years – who she'd finally started to reconnect with. She'd finally started to hear about his life. And it had all been fake. Ryos had known how desperate she was for him, and he'd used that to manipulate her, but, but

That didn't matter.

She'd killed her brother. MJ had made herself entirely alone.

It was like her organs were on fire, shrivelling up into nothing until only her heart was left, pulling itself apart to spill out across her frail skin and stain the floor the way her mother's once had.

'The most powerful witch on the planet, and I can't even cast a spell without crying. Without feeling every cell in my body about to burst, healing no matter how loud I scream for it to stop and destroy me.

I want my right to die back.'

MJ related to that feeling too.

She'd blown herself up out of grief. She'd chosen to go out in an explosion because it was the only way to really kill her, but by killing herself, she'd damned herself to hell, alongside her two friends. She'd also chosen fire because the word had a new connotation in her head.

For so many years, it had been her element — an association for her brain to make to remind her that she was strong. Fire was dangerous, but it was also the symbol of a home. People could view her as one, but she could know that she was the other. But now, she had to admit that the first was right.

...Kol had burned up.

'I want to be the person in control of when my heart stops beating. That's it. That's all I ask.'

MJ was lurching with each forced breath, the salty water catching in her mouth.

Her mother had controlled her death.

She'd gotten her wish.

'But I can't die, so instead, I watch the sunrise.

I watch as the sky turns from darkness to yellow and the new day begins, and I thank my ancestors for the moment of quiet that exists for just me. I thank them for making it seem like the world pauses just before the sun rises. Because it gives me a moment to breathe. In and out, and existing as just a girl, not one of the most wanted witches in the supernatural community.

When the sun rises, I am not Ana Ruiz, and, until I can die properly, that moment keeps me going.'

"I don't wanna be you."

The whispered words left MJ's mouth without her permission.

Her mother hadn't wanted her to turn into her one day. She'd told her that. But that was exactly what was happening, and MJ hated it.

"I'm not you – you don't need to worry, mum, because I'm not."

If she'd been given a journal and asked to write out everything she was feeling, her first thought might've been to write a long list of everything she hated about herself. All the reasons she should die. That's what she'd expected to read after her mum's opening narration about feeling shame.

"Because I don't wanna control my death."

There was a ball untangling itself in her head.

"I don't want to die – I just want to be okay one day. I want to live without having to fight for it."

She hadn't let herself admit it.

"I'm so sick of fighting to live!" MJ didn't understand the cloud in her mind, "I want to die, but there's a little voice in my head that won't let me, and I terrified of it. Because it's not the magic. And if it's not the magic, it's me, and I don't wanna die, but I don't wanna have to keep fighting."

Her last day in Mystic Falls had been a lot more complicated than simply wishing to no longer exist.

That was a massive part of it, but she'd phoned Klaus for a reason. MJ had wanted him to give her a reason to live, to hear him say that he needed her. Even if there wasn't a big problem anymore, even if they'd fixed everything, she'd needed him to tell her to come home.

Letting the little voice, on its own, keep her going was like saying she was okay.

"Part of me wants to live, but if I still feel like that after everything that's happened, purely because I don't want to actually be dead, aren't I just inviting even worse things to happen?"

Telling the universe she would accept however it wanted to treat her?

That was exactly the problem with Ryos and most of her friendships.

She accepted any treatment, and she needed to stop that, and stopping that meant ignoring that tiny voice – but that tiny voice was also titled 'her will to live.'

"I can barely find a reason too, so why? Why can't I just – but I..."

The muscles in her chin were contorting around her teeth, lip momentarily whimpering before folding back to scrape across bone as her tongue practically went limp, tripping over words.

"Mum? I need you."

All the books. The old instruments MJ had grown up around.

Her dad's pilot hat on the back of the door, meaning he'd been at home during May 1994.

"I don't know what to do because I just – I can barely exist, but I wanna exist. I wanna be worth all the people who have died to get me here," She wrapped her arms over her head, book pressed into her knees, "And I need you here."

There was a humming.

MJ could picture her mother's heart a little too well, and it was sending her crashing back to the memory. The moment she'd picked it up and pulled on every piece of magic she could to try and make her strong enough to bring her mum back.

She'd failed then too.

"I have all this power, and I'm doing all these stupid exercises so I can think I'm making progress. But I'm not – well, no," MJ held herself so tight that her ears started to hurt, pressed against her forearms, "Control-wise, I'm making so much progress – but that doesn't matter!"

Her eyes were closed to stop the tears.

"Because I don't know how to be a witch anymore – I don't know how to think, and there's nothing here! No life, no music, just me, and – and, Bonnie and Damon are with me but – but it's different."

The bottom of MJ's palms slammed into the floor as she needed to let go of her head before the pressure in her temples grew too strong.

"They need me, but I can't handle being needed."

Not by them, anyway.

Not after everything she'd put up with, in Mystic Falls.

"I can't – it's like, every time they look at me, I forget how to breathe, and I've already forgotten how to think. If I start forgetting how to breathe, I might genuinely just stop."

Her hands moved across the wood, making a squeaking sound as energy flooded her system.

"I'm exhausted!" She'd lived her life on a bit of a loop, "It's constantly trying to live, when just living should be the bare minimum! I was born! I deserve to just live, but the universe won't let me but – but – but I don't have the will to fight."

More and more energy.

"I can't use Floare magic, so what the hell am I – "

MJ's words cut off.

What was happening?

Her spine slowly straightened, chin lifting to really take in everything around her.

Shaking floors and energy.

"What the...?"

Her aching neck turned left, then right.

Then to the floor.

Her hands were glowing red.

She yanked them up, "Ah!"

The earthquake stopped, settling.

Sure, MJ could cause an earthquake when she was emotional, but that was about releasing magic, not unintentionally taking it in.

"That shouldn't be possible."

Siphoning straight from New Orleans was something MJ could do, because the ancestors were in the streets. But she wasn't in New Orleans.

"What the hell did I just siphon?"

One of her cheeks felt higher than the other, expression frozen in 'confused' mode, gently placing her palms back down, watching as they turned red, drawing in the magic.

Slowly she lowered her hands back down and closed her eyes.

"This..." She stopped quickly, "This isn't New Orleans magic."

Shoving to her feet, MJ rushed to the nearest wall, pressing herself into it to test it again.

"This, this is...no, it's spirit magic, but it's not New Orleans Ancestral Magic, so what – what the hell – "

The room juddered, and she jolted back.

"Wait, wait – wait," MJ's eyes were blinking rapidly, "No ancestral whispers – the ancestors...my mum would do – magic every morning."

She started to look at the runes.

"But none of them are active because no one's here to activate them..." She went to the desk, summoning three books on instinct to flip through them.

Books her mum had on New Orleans magic.

"Magic runs in the streets, I can literally siphon buildings because of it, but it always feels so ancestral plane-y that I don't like doing it," She talked as she worked, "But that wasn't ancestral plane-y."

MJ had never been good at working in quiet.

"That was something else, and by siphoning it, the world was disrupted, meaning it's a world made of magic."

She forced herself to stop.

"How would that be possible?" Her fingers were tapping the covers, "No...am I making a leap?"

Pocket Dimensions.

"If we were in a pocket dimension – if we were in Sheila's pocket from 1994, siphoning it wouldn't feel like that. The world would flicker and show me the real one."

Working and talking turned to pacing and talking.

"That's what happened when we tested it on one of the small wolf houses in LA; it flickered – that didn't flicker, that went to collapse."

MJ snapped her fingers, and a few other books opened, hovering in the air so she could walk and read.

She stepped on the journal of her mothers.

Her role was halted, all the books crashing to the floor.

MJ picked it up and ran her hand over the page.

Every object in their world had a double in 1994.

She closed the book and tossed it back into the sofa, walking straight into her parent's room, past the closet of her nightmares and going to her mum's nightstand. A nightstand that had a blue radio on it, so she could listen to music first thing in the morning, playing the local station on Sunday while they ate family breakfast in bed.

All four of them wrapped in the blanket, their dad having made it, carrying the plates in on a large tray, chatting together in their happy little Jung-Ruiz bubble.

The bedside lamp also acted as a necklace station.

MJ pulled off her mum's favourite one, orangey gold, cool in her hand.

The Floare stone she'd destroyed.

If MJ had a stone, she could put the power back once she was done with it, and she could be free.

She refused to turn into her mum.

She refused to let the power of one stone become the crutch it had for Ana after she'd stopped being the host. After she'd become an addict, reliant on it to feel safe in her own skin. MJ wouldn't let herself get worse.

She wouldn't survive worse.

She took her necklace off, slipping Kol's daylight ring from the chain and holding it next to the stone.

The ring was too big for her fingers, loosely fitting the thumb, but MJ didn't mind. She wanted it on her thumb so she could fiddle with it a little easier, the stone back around her neck.

Then, she let herself look at the closet.

Her whole reason for coming to the apartment had been to open the closet door and wake up, but now, approaching it had her stomach sinking. Like it might explode when she touched it.

It didn't.

The hinge opened smoothly, revealing jackets and jeans and skirts – all things her mother had worn at one point or another, no eleven-year-old wrapped up and hiding beneath them.

Nothing happened.

MJ wasn't in her broken mind; she was just trapped, trying to figure her way out.

She closed the white doors but kept staring at them.

A pen was summoned to her hand, a blue marker from the kitchen, lid off so she could lean forward to start writing in giant letters. Branding the paint that she knew would one day begin to peel if the world had been the real one. But it wasn't.

R.I.P – Mira Jung Floare-Ruiz
1992 – 2003
1992 – 2006
1992 – 2012

She couldn't make up her mind on which one she wanted to use.

If MJ counted every 'almost death' she'd have a seemingly endless list, and she didn't want to see that. She just wanted some clarity. And if she stripped back her experiences to the ones that had truly changed her – and only her.

Her heart had stopped with her mother's. Her body rested buried in a park in New York. And her mind had been shredded to pieces alongside her brothers.

That was death for her.

A compilation of moments that had taken it all.

MiMi, her mother's daughter, was going to rest in peace. Because, after everything, she deserved to. MJ had to believe she deserved peace, because if she didn't believe that for herself, why should anyone else?

And why should anyone else have to?

They didn't know her. She was the only who could really have a say in whether she found peace.

That was what she'd learnt by going after Marcel. 

Her hand was over the stone again.

MJ could still feel the magic in it, since it had had magic in 1994, and it was oddly comforting. A familiar weight she needed on her body to keep her from floating away into nothingness, but it still had magic in it –

Wait

WAIT.

She looked at the ring on her thumb...

"I can't use the Floare Power, but I don't need to – oh my god!"

She backed out of the room, waving her left hand to send every magical text into her bag, instantly charming it to be bottomless and weightless so she could yank it over her shoulder and start rummaging around everything else in the apartment. MJ grabbed her favourite family photos, all her mother's diaries, then a collection of CD's from her childhood that she didn't even realise she'd missed until she saw them.

Then she was out the door.

She paused.

Two more things.

There were cookbooks her dad had collected while travelling in the kitchen, but she didn't need to bring them. She could buy them. She just needed the handwritten recipe book he'd made for her. One for her, one for Ryos, personalised to their tastes, which he'd started writing the moment they'd learnt about the pregnancies.

Every page had personalised messages and pieces of advice that had his voice playing over and over again in his head.

She placed the notebook carefully among everything else.

As she left the apartment the second time, she grabbed the second item.

The pilot hat from the door, placing it on her head, slightly lopsided as it was too big for her, running back into the city.

~***~

Davina was studying Esther's Grimoire, trying to pull pieces together from the annotations MJ had made. She needed to work out what part of vampire creation created the sire-line, then she needed to work out a way to break it, and she was finding it incredibly hard to concentrate with an immortal Viking warrior prancing around the attic with her.

"How frustrating," Mikael taunted, "A novice trying to interpret the work of a master."

Davina rolled her eyes, "It's a simple de-linking spell."

"Simple?" He poked his head out at her, "You're trying to erase the link between Klaus and every single vampire he's sired."

"No," She walked around with the book in her hands, "All I care about is Marcel and Josh. You kill Klaus? They die, too. I can fix that."

She had to fix that.

"I have the Grimoire," Her face was determined, "It's just a matter of time."

"Perhaps I can help you solve the riddle."

"Unless you trick me into doing a spell that will free you from my control," Davina's trust issues stayed as strong as ever when it came to vampires, especially Mikaelson's.

"You know," Mikael made an observation, "For somebody who despises Klaus so much, you certainly share his paranoia."

"That paranoia has kept him alive," Davina retorted, "And I don't need your help."

She held up the annotated pages to show that she had guidance.

He was momentarily intrigued, "Someone defiled the Grimoire?"

"My friend MJ was working out a way to break the sire-line," She kept rereading the different things MJ had written over the pages, "Originally, just for one person."

Mikael narrowed his eyes, trying to place the name.

"I'm pretty sure she figured it out."

Because the notes suddenly stopped, which meant they'd been re-written in neat somewhere else.

"Which means I can do it too. I just need to work out what her notes mean."

"MJ..." Mikael tossed his stake, "That's that little witch from Mystic Falls?"

Davina closed the book slowly, "You met her?"

"She was present for my death."

"Oh," Davina realised that made some sense.

Mikael had died recently, and MJ had been in Klaus's life for a decent enough amount of time.

"Well, as I said, she had a spell to un-link one of her friends from Klaus."

"Then why aren't you using it?"

"Her spell books are currently held captive by your kids."

Trying to get them had resulted in an argument, and if she pushed too much, Klaus would realise she was up to something.

"I can figure it out and then – "

"You'll perform the spell," He'd heard the spiel enough times, "And I'll be free to kill the bastard."

Her phone beeped, something she happily checked instead of thinking about how twisted Klaus's entire family was. If she'd thought about it, she might've felt bad. If she'd thought about it, Davina might've remembered that MJ had a lot of friends tied to Klaus, having stopped looking into the sire-line because she also cared about Klaus.

The text was from Kaleb.

- Coffee?

- Now-ish?

She smiled.

After being ditched by Sam for Klaus, she would happily take company from a different cute boy. One she thought could potentially actually think of her as someone to date rather than whatever was going on in Sam's head.

She didn't get Sam.

He'd seemed to have been flirting with her when they'd been in the Lycee with Josh, but then he'd pointed out how the flirting made her magic work – which made it seem like he'd only been doing it to help her relax. Then he'd vanished in august, and now she didn't know where they stood, and he seemed to view her as a friend, so she wanted her brain to stop thinking about how cute his smile was.

Why think that about someone labelled friend when Kaleb also had a cute smile.

And who didn't view her as some seventeen-year-old prisoner. Which was a constant fear Davina had about how most of the people who'd met her the previous year. They were all a little bit older and living lives, and she'd been locked in an attic for a year.

She left the room without telling Mikael where she was going, knowing her protection spells would keep him sealed in. Him in and snoopers out.

In her rush, Davina missed Kol standing, watching her go, trying to break in. He remembered the church, he remembered killing everyone inside it once, but it seemed like the church didn't seem to remember him.

No spirits or ghosts had tried to attack him the second he'd entered anyway.

He also remembered how much he enjoyed attics. How he and Klaus had killed at least sixty people in a house, because so many of them had run to the attic. Like idiots. How they'd played chess after and how Elijah had forced Klaus to pick Marcel or him.

~***~

MJ bounded through the door with a crash, chucking the bag to the chair in the courtyard of The Compound.

"Okay," She started to think, "Marcel ran the city after kicking out the wolves up until when we arrived."

Important because?

"If he was living here, Rebekah's room is in perfect condition, he's sleeping in Klaus's, and Kol's – Kol's is the magic storage room."

She let her eyes catch on one of the walls.

The place where Rebekah, Elijah, and Klaus's portraits all hung in 2011, completely empty in 1994.

"Marcel only got half his spells after the witches started to get in the way. Which started in 1994..." She walked backwards towards the stairs, looking around the courtyard, "But all the Mikaelson family 'collectables' would've already been his, so they should still be..."

She turned to actually get up the stairs.

"I siphoned the wall, and it didn't flicker so we're not in a pocket of time and space, so where - what could poss...I...no, K, MJ, pause."

She felt like a crazy person.

She missed feeling like a crazy person.

It was the good kind of crazy. The crazy that had master plans and impossible ideas that she somehow found a way to pull off - not the crazy that made her kill people.

"First things first; siphoning caused it to potentially collapse. That means we're somewhere," She passed the first few rooms, "But we don't want a collapse, a collapse means we collapse with it. We need a window out, which means I need power to rip through a wall. But opening magical doors is Floare magic I'm currently not able to tap into without my body rejecting me – "

She stopped again, looking into the corner room.

The babies room.

MJ felt herself smile.

There was a tiny Mikaelson baby back in the real world.

She let herself open the door, even though she knew nothing useful would be behind it. Just some back-drinking room for vampires by the looks of it.

"You know," MJ faltered her thinking again, no longer scared that stopping would mean she'd lose her energy, "I...I'm still surprised I'm alone right now?"

She didn't know who she was talking too, or why, but it was what her mouth wanted to do.

"After two years of wanting to be left alone, to be rid of Klaus...I'm now standing in his house, beyond confused about how on earth he isn't here. Like, it's..."

A laugh came out.

"All the angry spirits - angry I was forced to help him, and now they've finally gotten me to a place he can't reach me. I'm finally free of it! There is no one here to drag me into anything!"

She shook her head.

"God, when I break out, they're gonna be even madder, aren't they?"

Her hands shook her hair out, moving the stiff roots that were in definite need of a wash.

"This is my way out," She looked around, "Come on rational MJ."

The tiny voice was quiet now.

"The MJ who hated him? MJ who cried for Jenna. And Carol. And every other life he's taken! Talk me into staying?"

Still silence.

"I'm not gonna give you a second chance!"

She'd lost everything, and she'd called Klaus.

"No ancestors yelling, no spirits to pop up and creep you out or vampires asking favours. Or witches treating you like less – and no family to miss you because your dad doesn't know you exist!"

And the others were dead.

"All the noise in your life is finally gone," MJ leant over the bannister calling out, "Are you really gonna just send yourself back to it all?"

She was waiting for a sign from the universe, for her mood to crash and send her spiralling again.

"Here, wherever we are, we're safe. We're alone, and it's awful."

Hell.

"But it's also potentially the only way out - the way to get off speed dial, so come on! Give me a reason to stay."

Nothing.

The first silence she was happy to hear, smiling, holding tightly to the top of the surround railing while she rested back and let herself enjoy the blank canvas.

MJ didn't even have to siphon a spell to get into the room of Mikaelson mementoes. She didn't know if that was because Marcel hadn't always had a spell there, or if it was because spells didn't get copied. MJ was pretty sure spells didn't get copied. There should've been a million different spells over her old apartment, and there hadn't been a single one active.

Now her brain was on, she could feel the underlying magic everywhere.

It was barely there, like a whisper buried miles underground, but it was enough, and MJ could reach it when she focused. If she could reach it, she had something to work off.

She had all her mother's books, and she grabbed a second bag from Marcel's room, spelled it, then started moving things into it. Old books, the dagger from the floor, and the diamond since it could act as a magic booster.

Her senses were dialled up, meaning she noticed something she hadn't in the world of the living.

The dagger had been kept in a loose floorboard, but there was a corner of the wallpaper folded up, and it was setting MJ off too.

If she was sensing even more magic in the hell world than in the real world, she had to assume the object had been moved. Meaning it was important enough for Marcel to keep tabs on. Or, the power upgrade she'd gotten from smashing the Floare stone had also given her an even better magic sense.

She just hadn't been using it because of her slump.

Her 'mental block'.

MJ was going to label it as a mental block because that was easier to say than what it actually was.

As she pulled the paper back, there was a loose brick behind it, shimmied forward to reveal a wooden box hidden behind it.

"Okay...so is this something Marcel found?" She opened it, "Or something Kol hid?"

Part of it really wanted it to be Kol.

She didn't know where he was, but she had to assume he'd ended up sucked to hell. MJ couldn't think about that. She wouldn't let herself.

If she'd found something else of his to have with her, well,

It was something.

MJ was a mixed of underwhelmed and confused with what was inside. It was giving off a lot of energy, so she'd been hoping for a little more than what appeared to be the insides of a palm sized pocket watch made out of twigs.

There was no clock, just clockwork, made out of sticks, held firmly together despite looking brittle. As her fingers grazed over the bark, she heard a low buzz in her ears, and a slight orange light collected beneath her fingers.

The lid of the box was concave, a few small scrolls stuffed into it.

"Please, be a clue, please be a – " She smiled, "Yay!!"

'Ascendant – Gemini Coven'

"Okay...I don't know what that means but Luke and Liv were Gemini," MJ stood up, holding the device up to look at it in the afternoon light, "And the Gemini Coven have been around since the Floare-Traveller situation."

Despite looking like it was made out of forest, it felt strong enough to be metal.

She tapped it on the table, getting a soft thump.

It was bark.

MJ unravelled the scroll properly to see a diagram of the thing.

Thick pencil lines, a few dotted one, showing that the pieces moved when the thing was used. Most of its labels were in another language, because why make things easy for her?

The stuff that was in English, was written in Kol's handwriting.

"Double yay."

Needing to read, MJ went to the dusty, box covered desk, put the 'Ascendant' down.

"Gemini Coven are the coven that do the merge, and they have siphoners...could that have something...okay, pause, getting distracted."

She'd come to go dark object hunting, and if Kol was somehow part of whatever the ascendant was, she had to think it was some kind of dark object.

"Ascendant and Gemini Coven..." MJ could feel something on the tip of her tongue, unable to figure out what though, "Whatever, next stop, The Claire Tomb!"

She climbed into Stefan's car to drive to the cemetery, grabbing another duffle bag from a back closest in The Compound on her way out. Even if she charmed things to be bottomless, she wanted some organisation. From what she remembered of Kol's journals, he'd been using two witches, one of which had been Davina's ancestor, to make dark objects.

Her tomb was the one MJ needed to get in if she wanted a supply of siphon-able magic.

MJ knew her way through the graveyard, visiting Davina's grave so many times after The Harvest. Getting there was quick and easy. Getting inside was the problem.

She'd never tried to get inside for two reasons; one, it felt disrespectful while Davina was dead, two, there'd been magic on the tomb. A spell that meant only Claire witches could get inside. She could've siphoned it, but again, disrespectful.

That was where MJ got confirmation that enchanted objects retained their magic, while random spells didn't. She could open the tomb with a simple flick of the wrist.

MJ grinned at the sight of dark objects everywhere, until she saw one she'd hoped to never see again sitting on a shelf.

The magic sucking gun.

"No," She pointed at it, "No, no...Katherine."

She rubbed her eyes.

It was still there.

"1994...Davina was born in 1994 and her parents were toget – No!" MJ was hit with a massive realisation, "Katherine said her dark object dealer had been a human, dating a witch, took off with some of her stash...Davina's dad took off!"

Her hands went over her face.

"No," She shook her head, "Oh my god."

Katherine had killed Davina's dad for her.

"That's not gonna be a fun conversation," MJ's hands slowly moved back down, "Can I just pretend I didn't connect that dot?"

There was no one to answer that question.

"I need to see a picture," She thought somewhat rationally, "If she has a picture of him, well, it's not like you can forget the faces of four heads delivered to your door."

One problem at a time.

"Until I know for certain, it's not a problem I need to be thinking about."

MJ waved her hands and anything with a trace of magic flew into her bag, filling it up and giving her something to work with.

Then she collected the three journals in the room and put them on the top before heading back to the car. Kol had told her he'd re-written his journals in New Orleans, meaning they would have everything she needed to know about dark objects documented for her, no trip to Cadiz needed.

~***~

Kol hadn't ended up going to meet Davina, having spent far too long trying to get into the attic that he'd ended up having to return to report back to his mother, blowing her off. Finn was there too, dealing with some of the wolves milling about to get moonlight rings after the original group of owners had been killed off.

"Well, you were right to be suspicious," Kol talked, the three of them walking through the tombs, "Davina's hiding something in that attic. The door was locked with a rather complex spell."

"Could be a weapon, or a source of power," Esther didn't like it, "I prefer not to leave anything to chance. Better we know what she has and whose side she's on – So, you'll take her to dinner."

Kol gave her a look, "I just stood her up for coffee."

Esther didn't seem to follow.

"She probably hates me by now, and I'm not really in the mood to play apologetic date when the girl I – "

"Just do what you're told, Kol," Finn interrupted.

"Oh, of course! Finn the sycophant speaks up!" Kol sneered, "Are you gonna grovel at your mother's heels for eternity, or what?"

"Stop it," Esther intervened, "Both of you. There's enough conflict to come."

Finally walking into The Lycée showed a crowd of messy looking and scared werewolves waiting for them. People who were panicking now Francesca had been dealt with, desperate for a glimpse of the power needed to keep the vampires out of The Quarter.

"Look at this pack of freeloaders," Kol taunted, officially in a bad mood.

"Nonsense!" Esther smiled, "These are our friends. Wolves in need of a gift only I can provide."

She was too smug for her own good.

"Moonlight rings."

Another witch was inside, cutting up pieces of black kyanite from a large stone in the centre of the table. A collection of people were next to her, enchanting them, a third group polishing before they'd be pressed into the ring bands.

"The witches have been working day and night."

Because they listened to her.

"Soon, we'll have enough rings for an army. And, when we do, we will pay your brothers a visit," She picked up a stone from a nearby bowl as Kol and Finn inspected the place, "We will teach them the unfortunate error of their vampire ways."

'Vampire ways' was one way of putting it. Another might be just realising her children had become awful people over the centuries. You didn't have to be a vampire to kill someone. You could just be a person who found enjoyment in tormenting others, especially people who made them feel unwanted.

1821

Marcel's lips were covered with blood as he and Kol sat in the courtyard. There was an acting troupe in front of them, all compelled, Kol teaching Shakespeare in the way he thought would be most effective.

"Please, let me go," Marcel pulled, his hands tied together, "Mr Kol, I don't – I don't like this."

"Don't be absurd!" Kol smiled, "Shakespeare should be experienced in the flesh."

He looked over the people performing.

"In truth, these aren't the finest actors, but we are in the colonies," He shrugged, "Here."

He motioned for the story to continue.

"Where were we?"

"Then, venom to thy work!" The actor playing Hamlet said, taking his sword and plunging it through his scene partners chest.

Marcel's eyes went wide as the person fell down, bleeding to death

"Exchange forgiveness with me, noble harlot – " The actor tried to continue with his lines.

Kol just growled, "No!"

He marched onto the stage.

"How many times must I tell you?" He grabbed the man by the hair to pull him up, "It's Hamlet, not harlot."

The sound of a neck snap left his body on the floor too, a pile building up.

"Sometimes, I don't know why I bother," Kol stepped down to the main floor gracefully, his hands out.

That was when Elijah arrived. He'd heard Marcel's yellings, instantly panicked and run into the room.

He was breathless as he took the surroundings in, "What have you done?"

"I was just introducing Marcellus to the theatre," Kol said, not understanding what he'd done wrong, "I thought you'd be pleased?"

Klaus finally joined them, having also heard the commotion, but not realising Marcel had been involved until then.

"Is there no limit to your violent imagination, brother?" Elijah hissed.

"If the lad is going to be a vampire, he'll have to learn somehow, won't he?" Kol defended his actions, "Come, I've already fed him my blood."

He lent in closer to his older brother, playing the devil on his shoulder.

"All you have to do is snuff him," He could see the confliction on Elijah's face, and the fear on Marcel's, "And voilà. One of us."

Slowly, Kol started to smile.

"That is what you want, isn't it?"

After a second of hesitation, Elijah grabbed Kol in a choke-hold, shoving him as far from Marcel as he could get before Kol started to writhe himself free.

"Let him go, Elijah," Klaus instructed calmly, hand on Kol's back.

The deadly focus in Klaus's eyes meant Elijah did.

"Thank you, Nik," Kol brushed himself down, "At least someone knows the meaning of family."

"I told you before," Klaus turned his little brother to face him, "Marcellus is family."

The dagger was back in his heart before he could even react, Elijah's arms out to catch him as he fell, the same way it always went.

~***~

MJ had the windows to Stefan's car open, blasting the Prince CD through the car speaker, a few books open on the passenger side. She'd driven through most of the night, stopping every few hours for coffee, or a snack, and some reading. She'd gotten two hours of sleep.

There was something about the Gemini Coven that was bugging her.

Coincidences didn't exist. And, MJ had met two Gemini Witches, then ended up in some unknown place, finding a magical object she'd never found before in a parallel version of a room she'd taken as her own.

It was too big of a coincidence, especially since she was trying to remember something.

"Pocket dimensions," MJ had started talking to herself consistently during the drive, "LA...Los Angeles."

She was holding one of her mother's journals.

'The man from Portland said I was lucky to have survived the birth, but I can't help but think he was being dramatic. I mean, he's also telling me I should lock my kid in a box to keep her away from potential magic sources, and there's no way in hell I'm doing that.

I knew Mira would be a siphoner. If I hadn't wanted to deal with that, I wouldn't have had her."

Something MJ had learnt, which was somewhat comforting, was that she was completely planned.

Her mum had an entry, a letter she'd sent to a friend she had in the Floare community asking about siphoners out of an 'academic interest', paired with an entry of her wanting a second kid no doubts. Wanting to know everything she could to make it all work.

"The Gemini Coven had been helping, and failing, to keep Travellers in check, from the day they were cursed. Meaning they've been around for two thousand years, just like the Floare. Because of that, they kept tabs on each other," MJ switched books, a pen in her hair, "To a certain degree anyway."

She'd grabbed clothes she kinda liked from a shop on the way out of New Orleans, then gone to a motel for her two hour sleep, were she'd been able to shower.

"One of my mother's books was purely about Gemini specific magic," She tapped the pen twice then made an annotation, "Certain cloaking spell, tracking spells, and their Merge ritual thing.

That, MJ already knew a little about, but after studying the book, she knew the specifics.

"There was also a page reference in my mum's notes about the Floare stones, comparing how she embedded magic into them with how magic is embedded into Ascendants."

She had the ascendant from New Orleans, still in its box, but open so she could keep glancing at it. Comparing the diagram inside with the much more modern-looking sketch in her mum's book.

She'd found the page on Ascendants, everything falling into place in her head.

"The reason Gemini was buzzing in the back of my mind was because, when I'd been taught how to make pockets in time, I'd asked where the witch teaching me had learnt it. She'd told me she was an ex-Gemini Coven witch, and it was a variation on a spell the coven had mastered over the centuries."

MJ made another collection of shorthand annotations, trying to decipher the magic.

"I avoided her like the plague. I knew how Gemini felt about siphoners, but, but - but!" MJ drew a circle in the corner of the page that glowed white, then died, drying the ink so she could turn to the next page without smudging anything, "A variation - a variation on you, ascendant."

A prison world.

"A repeating day to lock bad witches up in - I mean," She glanced at the wing mirror, "I do appreciate the irony of trying to save my friends by stealing magic, and ending up in a Prison World meant for bad witches...whatever, I'll get them out – I'll get us out."

MJ had some peace of mind over what she'd found and where she was, so she stopped her scribbling to turn the key. The engine buzzed to life, starting the drive back to Mystic Falls again, fresh air beating on her and a million thoughts in her head, ready to come out as the music played.

~***~

Davina and Kol were sitting at a table in Rousseau's, working their ways through the typical get-to-know-you questions, Kol trying to look on the bright side. If he was careful, polite enough to make up for ditching her earlier, he might be able to find out what Davina had meant when she'd called MJ's death 'complicated.'

"My family?" He pulled a face, "Oh, no. They're all crazy as loons. You?"

Davina hesitated before answering, "Not much to say...only child."

He was somewhat jealous.

"When my dad was around, he was distant, and then he made the distance a little more permanent and vanished. Which is somehow better than my mum?"

"Bet she was a control freak, right?"

Davina nodded in confirmation.

"Yeah, same as mine," He mused, "She's the reason I stopped practising magic for so long."

One way to put it.

Davina sat up, lowering her voice, "You're a witch?"

"Don't look so surprised."

"And you knew I was one?"

"I mean, you're practically famous," He complimented, "You're the Harvest Girl who told them all to shove it."

She smiled to herself a little.

"I'm a lot like you. Don't really believe in rules and authority," Kol lifted up his glass, "Your courage should be celebrated."

She looked him in the eyes, beaming at the fact she'd finally found another witch who didn't hate her for either 'abandoning' her coven, or for not playing with the wolves like Cassie.

"And if I'm not assuming too much," He tapped her phone, "That friend you mentioned? She was the Floare Siphoner, right?"

"Yeah," Davina expression faltered, "She was great."

"You liked her?"

"She was a surprisingly nice person."

"Surprising?" Kol raised an eyebrow, "I've never bought into that whole Siphoners are crazy thing – "

"Neither!" She put a hand out, "Just...the people she hung out with? Some of them certainly were."

Davina took a long sip of her fizzy drink.

"The guy she came to town with is the worst, and I pretty much hate him."

Putting it simply.

"But she – she was amazing."

What Davina wanted to stress.

"She made me enjoy magic again. Taught me some of the fun tricks that the old elders labelled as 'wasting magic'."

"And what – "

Kol was cut off by her phone ringing.

She sighed, seeing the Caller ID as Marcel, "I'm so sorry. He'll just keep calling until I answer - I'll make it quick."

Standing up and rushing towards the door to get out of earshot, meant Kol jumped, a hand was on his shoulder.

"You're stalling," Finn whispered, taking the hand off and walking to the side of the table.

He rolled his eyes, "No, that's not creepy at all. My oldest brother supervising me on the date my mother sent me on."

"A date you're using to ask questions for your own selfish thoughts when you should be finding out what she's hiding."

"I'm making conversation, Finncent," Kol growled, "It's what people do when they're becoming friends. It requires an interest in another person, a little bit of charm, and a personality – something you'd know nothing about."

"Our mother wants answers, and if you can't get them, we'll do this my way."

"Oh, what are you gonna do?" He taunted, "You gonna bore her until she can't help but tell you everything?"

"If you want to find out if someone has a weapon?" Finn grinned, "You provoke them into using it."

By the time Davina was coming back, everyone else was leaving, Kol included. Finn had disappeared off, something Kol wasn't complaining about since he wanted to get back to talking to Davina.

He was smiling a little.

MJ had been teaching Davina, and she'd been teaching her to enjoy things.

"Kaleb?" Davina found him through the crowd of people being ferried to the door, "What's happening?"

"Some fellow just announced they were closing for a private party."

"We should leave," Her conversation with Marcel had been about the White Oak Stake, and how he was trying to find her, to get it off her.

Davina wanted to be hidden before he had a chance to even get there.

Before they could step outside though, a werewolf blocked their path.

"What's your rush, sweetheart?"

Kol instantly realised Finn hadn't been kidding with his suggestion of starting a fight.

"Why don't you stay and party with us?"

"Get out of our way. Now."

He didn't move.

She put her hand out, curling it up so he fell to his knees in pain. His cries out caught the attention of the other werewolves, a group now surrounding them.

"Can you do that with the rest of them?" Kol's voice went up a little, "Or...?"

"Not all at once," Davina admitted.

Adapting to not having The Harvest power backing her had been a bit of a struggle. It gave her a new understanding of just how talented MJ must've been to have her level of control and power.

The first werewolf was back on his feet, instantly charging, Davina tossed across the room. On instinct, Kol went to punch him, only to be thrown into the wall behind the bar, several bottles smashing into him.

As the wolf fangs came out, Davina gripped her bracelet and chanted.

"Jwen Mwen Vennez ça Maintenant."

She was picked up and shoved into the bar, about to be bitten when Mikael vamp sped into the room.

His hands clawed into the threat, easily overpowering him, smashing him into the counter three times before dropping him to the floor.

Mikael looked at all of them, hate filling his eyes, "You filthy dogs."

As he lunged for the next one, Kol regained his senses, seeing him, and freezing.

He'd managed to practically never see his father after they'd been turned, always being hurried away before Mikael could arrive, or in a coffin. Then he'd been told his father had finally been killed by the very weapon he'd wanted to kill Klaus with. The person his heart had been stolen by partially responsible.

A weapon Kol had technically been killed by too, even if it was a different version of it.

Mikael snapped two necks in a millisecond.

His father was alive, and bloodthirsty, and Kol was a human. Still re-getting to grips with magic and mortality. That was another human emotion he was having to get used too.

Fear.

The panic he'd felt about Silas didn't hold a candle to the fear of seeing his father rip out a werewolf heart, knowing his could be next. Further confirming that something hadn't been right with Kol's emotions when he'd been a vampire.

One of the final werewolves had snatched Davina again, and as she struggled, her bracelet slipped off, causing her to scream and Mikael to smile.

He ripped the head of the wolf off and took her in his arms himself.

"Well, now," His glee was shivering, "What an interesting turn of events."

The fangs came out, eyes turning red, wolf blood staining his face.

"I'm going to enjoy this, girl."

But before he could, he collided with a different wall, Elijah throwing him away, Davina dropped to the floor.

As Mikael turned around, Elijah froze too.

"Father?"

"Hello, son," Mikael glowered, "I'd hoped to see your brother first, but we have some unfinished business as well."

Without hesitation, Elijah vamp-sped forward, grappling him to the floor. Maybe it was the shock mixed with the stress, or maybe Mikael was just the better fighter, but Elijah was losing – not just losing, but potentially about to die.

Mikael had the White Oak Stake everyone had been looking for.

Davina had the White Oak Stake.

It was over Elijah's chest, and as he tried to push it back, Marcel was yanking Davina to her feet, checking her for any long-lasting injuries.

"We're getting out of here."

"No," She was searching frantically, "Marcel, I need my bracelet."

To her, the room was spinning, blurring everything.

"I can use it to control him."

Realising that, Marcel started to look to.

He couldn't have Mikael lose in the city if he wanted to live.

Gold shined among the dead bodies, him grabbing it while Elijah struggled against his father's grip, managing to flip their sides and get to his feet. Furniture smashed around them. The change only resulted in him getting rammed into the table, the tip of the stake entering his chest.

"AAAH!"

Marcel tossed the chain to Davina, Mikael clocked the gesture too.

He turned to race to Davina, to grab it or kill her before it was too late.

"STOP!"

It was back on her wrist.

"Go back."

His feet started to retreat.

"NOW."

He became one with the shadows, vanishing into the night.

Kol was pulling himself to his feet, mouth open as he processed everything that had happened.

His brother was on his left, healing from the closest to death he'd been in a long time, while Davina stared out the door in horror. She was cut and bleeding, and a little bit terrified of everything. Marcel turned on her, hands on his hips and frowning - but before he could say anything, she sprinted out of the door.

Elijah finally noticed the fact there was someone standing up behind the bar.

Kol swallowed.

"Something to say?" Elijah asked, uneasy around everyone given the turn of events.

Kol blinked.

Mikael had been about to kill Elijah.

He'd always been trying to kill Klaus. They'd all operated under the assumption that though they'd fled together, it was only ever Klaus he'd actually kill. He'd only ever had a weapon to kill one of them.

Now he didn't.

And Kol wasn't even an Original Vampire anymore. He was mortal.

He cleared his throat, "Not me, mate. Not a bloody thing."

~***~

Damon and Bonnie had found their mysterious stalker. A pork grind eating man names Kai, who they'd taken back to the Salvatore House. They'd also taken some of the lawn equipment from the conscience story with them so they could tie their prisoner to a chair.

Despite the fact that the house was usually well stocked for captives, it had been a normal boarding house in the nineties. No chains waiting in the basement.

Damon picked up the fireplace poker as Kai started to wake up, having caught Bonnie up on the minimal information he'd got from the guy before the attack started.

"You're awake," He was in his face, "Good."

Kai was tied up in the same place Mason and himself had been tortured.

"Now, for the Q&A portion of the evening..."

"Let me guess," Kai seemed unphased, "I answer right, I get a pork rind."

Damon had the bag on the table.

"Wrong, I get a poker."

"What?" Damon looked at him like he was stupid, "No, no, no. These are for me."

Despite the fact he didn't like them.

"You just get the poker."

"Yeah," Kai shook his head, "You don't have to do that."

"No?"

"We're on the same team."

"Really?" Bonnie spoke up from behind Damon, "Do you always try and kill your teammates?"

"The important thing is that you have your magic back."

In the store, he'd attacked Damon, Bonnie had shown, magic waking up to save him.

"It worked!"

Damon and Bonnie looked to see if the other person understood what Kai was getting at.

"What?" He relaxed into the chains, "You didn't really think I'd kill Damon, did you? Heh heh. In what universe does that make sense?"

The way he was laughing at them wasn't appreciated.

"Who would kill one fourth of our population? I'm not a monster!" His offended face was kinda funny, "I knew Bonnie would show up. She always comes back, all thirteen times."

MJ wasn't the only one who'd vanished for a few days during the months of captivity.

"And," He beamed, "I knew, with the right motivation she'd be able to access her magic."

Kai kept talking since no one was shutting him up.

"Although I – I did get a little worried with all your bickering that Damon's life wouldn't be enough motivation," He watched Damon and Bonnie's unamused faces, "Which would've been a problem since I wasn't about to try and set-off the missing time-tomb."

Setting off MJ did seem like a bad idea to everyone but Damon.

"Turns out Damon was enough."

A mock cheer.

"I guess the bickering is just how you two show your love."

"So," Bonnie didn't like what he was getting at, "You did all that just to make sure I would have my magic?"

"Of course I did!" Kai reasoned, "Your magic is the key to getting the hell out of here."

They both stepped back at the revelation, just as the door opened.

"I know where we are!"

A chirpy MJ waking in, three bags over her shoulders, fresh clothes on, and a focused look in her eye.

"And I have an idea on how to get us out."

Footsteps halting.

Her taking in the sight of a guy chained to a chair.

She looked to Bonnie and Damon, "Kinky?"

Damon started to smile.

"We're not alone," Bonnie summed up.

"I assumed," MJ dumped two of the bags down.

"You assumed?" Damon looked between their returned friend and Kai.

"I'm pretty sure we're in a prison world," She explained, "And if we're in a prison world, it has to have been made for someone. And that someone wasn't us or we wouldn't be in 1994, we'd be in 2012."

Bonnie didn't know where to focus, "We're in a what?"

"Prison World."

Damon put his hand up, "I repeat her question."

"I'm Kai," The prisoner interrupted.

"MJ."

"The Floare," His smile sent a shiver down her spine, "I know."

~***~

Kol was stressed, and tired, and bleeding - not to mention scared and incredibly conflicted about the role he was playing in Davina's life. When he saw Finn in the greenhouse of the Lycée, he let it all out, grabbing his older brother by the shirt and pinning him to the wall in a rush.

"What the bloody hell was that?" He shoved even further, "Huh?"

"You need to calm down."

"You almost got me killed!" Kol hissed, hitting him into the wall, "Those wolves didn't just go after Davina, they attacked me!"

"I'm aware," Esther came in, calmly speaking to shut the situation down, "I gave the order."

Kol released Finn, getting even angrier.

"The attack had to look convincing," Her justification made sense, but that didn't mean he was okay with it.

"Look at my head," He gestured to the blood, stomping forward, "This isn't going to heal for weeks."

Properly yelling felt good.

"I haven't had a scar in a thousand years!"

"You'll live!" Esther had no time for his complaints, "And, more importantly, Davina will feel indebted to you."

The uneasy feeling was back in his stomach.

"She will seek you out to apologise for what she perceives as an attack she caused, as I planned."

"Well, I've had enough of your plans," Kol's time was plain, "You stick me in this body. You force me to sneak around like some common toady! If this is the grand new life that you planned for me, then you can have it back."

He didn't want to die, but the one person he'd actually wanted to spend time with wasn't even alive. Playing by the rules was going to drive him insane.

Esther's face filled with rage as her hand thrust forward, turning him into a writhing pile on the floor.

"You are here by my grace," She listening to the cries out, "And you will remain by my grace!"

His nose was bleeding rapidly.

"Have I made myself clear?"

Kol tried to fight free but he couldn't.

Forced to just groan, "Yes."

Esther stopped, and he slumped forward against the dirty tile floor, panting and holding his nose. Kol had hoped to never experience something like that again. It was a trick meant to be used on vampires or werewolves. People with healing factors he now lacked.

His mother looked at him before going to her knees too, taking his face in her hands gently. A healing charm spread through his body like a gift.

"Your brother was in the attic during the attack," She explained, "Finn, tell him what you saw."

"The door was open. The room empty."

"So," Esther stood up, "How did Davina tear apart a pack of vicious wolves?"

Kol didn't respond.

"She must have had this weapon with her," She frowned, annoyed he hadn't already spoken up, "What was it? A dark object? A book of spells?"

"I wish I knew," He lied smoothly, "I was knocked out during the attack. Didn't see a thing."