"𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓀𝓃ℴ𝓌 𝒹𝒶𝓂𝓃 𝓌ℯ𝓁𝓁,
𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓎ℴ𝓊, 𝒾 𝓌ℴ𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓇𝓊𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎𝓈ℯ𝓁𝒻"

Stiles Stilinski hadn't seen nor heard from his one of his best friends since he had departed from her earlier that day at school. Ophelia had been radio silent. He isn't sure whether he should be taking that as a good thing or not. After leaving Cora inthe hospital with the capable hands of her older brother, he decided to drop round to the Stone's house to pick her up for the recital being held at the school in an hour. Even though he knows for a fact she would dig her heels into the ground and state firmly that the event would be a complete and utter waste of time, he needs to just be with her.

When he had realised that his only living family member left in the world didn't believe him that there's something supernatural to do with the sacrificial murders, it sent a stab to the boy's heart. Stiles needs to be in the carefree presence of Ophelia. As he walks in the front door aided by his key to her home, he realises just how carefree she is as of right now.

"Niklaus. Drop. The. Knife."

Stiles' eyes are wide and flicking around apprehensively the second he had heard 'knife.' The teenage boy ducks every now and again as he walks through the unreasonably long hallway, hoping that said knife won't stab him in the back before he reaches safety. The second he enters the living room he's met with a sharpened kitchen knife flying across in front of him and imbedding itself into the plaster of a wall somewhere. Stiles gulps nervously and it's at that moment he notices the unrecognisable blonde stranger seated on the large sofa with a mug of steaming tea.

Just as he goes to speak to her, his attention catches the familiar figure of Ophelia leaping over the kitchen island bench like a frog, then she ducks underneath the overhang on the other side. Her green eyes meet his and she waves a hand up in greeting. "Hey, Stiles," she yells out.

Shakily, he waves back, his mouth agape as another knife is sent flying toward his friend, only missing her head by a few inches. She disappears around a corner with a battle cry. "What the fuck?"

The woman a few metres away from him is completely unbothered by what is happening in the background. She glances up from her book and her lips lift into a welcoming smile. "Don't worry, this is a daily occurrence."

Considering she was already inside without a protest from the owner of the home, Stiles figures she's a welcome guest. He clears his throat as he plops down into a free armchair and drums his fingers on the armrests as his eyes stay locked on the kitchen. The two participants have disappeared, the only proof they are still inside being Ophelia's shrieks and a masculine voice yelling profanities. "... Should we do something?"

"Oh, no, don't worry. Once one of them is stabbed, it'll stop."

His eyes widen further at how casually she had said so; he still isn't quite used to supernatural healing yet. The boy crosses his legs over one another and tries to ignore the stranger's piercing gaze she has now set on him. "So... I'm Stiles."

She nods, taking another sip of the steaming liquid in the ceramic mug cradled in her hands. "Ah, I've heard about you from my sister. Sisters, plural. Rebekah finds you delightful. I'm Freya."

He finally registers her accent and he's slightly surprised. "Oh, you're her sister... Are you a wit-"

"Oi, that was my fucking head, you backstabbing wanker!"

Stiles' eyebrows shoot up at Ophelia's screech. "Are you sure we shouldn't be doing something? It sounds pretty violent." His lips purse together when Freya continues to make no move on leaving her couch. "Right... So, I know nothing about you. Fi doesn't talk much about her family," he says, trying to make small talk instead of sitting in complete silence. "I mean, aside from how most of you are vampires, I literally know nothing."

Freya takes another sip of her tea, then sets the now empty cup to the side. "Well, I'm a more recent addition, you could say. She's only known me for a few days."

Chewing his lip, Stiles nods in understanding. "So, you're like a long-lost sister?"

The Mikaelson smiles at him and quietly chuckles. "Yeah, you could say that," she replies in amusement. Instead of a scream or another screech like Stiles had been anticipating, a loud roar reverberates through the entire house. If he wasn't scared before, he definitely is now. Freya gives him a sympathetic look once she notices how his skin has blanched and his hands are clenched into tight fists. "Don't worry, they won't actually harm each other."

"I strongly disagree," a voice bluntly states.

The two heads snap toward the noise, and Stiles feels as if he would faint if he were to stand up. Actually, Ophelia's surprised he hasn't already. The hybrid grimaces at the knife protruding out of her older brother's head, a trickle of blood running down the side of his face from the wound. Freya rolls her eyes at the two, her gaze settling onto Klaus. "You probably deserved it."

Ophelia nods rapidly. "Thank you! In my defence, you started it," she exclaims, pointing a finger to the pissed off Original. Klaus huffs an irritated sigh and wrenches the knife out of his forehead, the normally deadly injury quickly healing into blood-stained skin. "Forgive and forget...?"

"Fine," he grumbles.

A cheerful grin appears on her face, and she gently pats his shoulder as he stomps past her, not bothering to cast a glance at whoever has joined them. She sighs and makes her way over to Stiles. Crouching before him, she places the back of her hand on his forehead. "How you doing?"

"Very nauseous," he replies faintly.

Freya smiles again at her sister and follows in the direction Niklaus has left in. Using her vampiric speed to her advantage, Ophelia quickly fills up a glass of water and returns it to her friend. He gratefully takes it into his hands. "So," she begins, taking the seat on the couch opposite him. "What're you doing here? Sorry you had to witness that, by the way."

Downing the remainder of the water, he sighs. "Recital's soon."

Her brows furrow as she stills and takes a moment to inhale his chemo-signals. Disappointment, guilt, worry, and frustration. "Stiles, what's wrong?"

"Shit, I forgot you can smell my mind," he whispers to himself. He sighs heavily, the breath resembling the weight of the world that sits upon his shoulders. "Multiple things. One, Allison called earlier and said she's found out this set of sacrifices are Guardians. She thinks that because of Tara, it's law enforcement."

Ophelia frowns as she listens to him attentively, and her heart constricts as she hears the distress in his voice after mentioning the deputy he had been close with before they had found her dead at school. "Okay, so it's the cops. We just have to keep an eye on the entire Sheriff's department..." Knowing how unrealistic that sounds, she drags a hand down the side of her face. "Great. That's impossible. Have you told your dad?"

Stiles closes his eyes. "I tried to. Cora and I both did. Showed him my chessboard and everything...."

"You showed him your chessboard and still nothing?"

"We were close," he adds quickly. "She was gonna show him her eyes, then she passed out. We took her to the hospital, and... Dad and I had an argument at the end about all this crap."

"Stiles, I'm so sorry," she consoles. Her frown deepens when he shuts his eyes. "If you want, we can go to him together and I can help you?"

He nods with a weak smile. "Yeah, thanks, Fi."

"Of course. Is Cora okay?"

Another sigh leaves his lips at her question, although this time it's shaky. "We don't know," he mutters. "Derek's with her, but we don't know. She's still unresponsive."

"Shit," Ophelia curses in frustration. "I should've jumped in earlier with Aiden. This is my fault."

Stiles' eyes widen and he quickly shakes his head in disagreement. "No, it's not. You couldn't have known a concussion would lead to this. We're lucky you were there with them at all. Without you, Cora would probably be dead."

Still unconvinced even with his words, Ophelia casts her eyes onto the floor. She nods for his benefit, refusing to let him see her so vulnerable for any longer. "Yeah." Taking a deep breath, she stands up and claps her hands together. "So, what's the plan? We going to this stupid recital, or what?"

He morphs his frown into a small smile, brushing aside the fact how her mood had done a complete one-eighty in the span of a second. "Yeah, or we can stay here? Watch movies?"

Ophelia groans at his tempting suggestion and shrugs on her jacket that had been tossed over a nearby chair. "As nice as that sounds, I think it's kinda cruel to leave Scott and Lyds to deal with this on their own."

Stiles hesitates for a few, but eventually shrugs in agreement. "Yeah, probably." As soon as the girl unlocks her phone, her smile drops. His eyebrows raise in question when she glances up to him. "What's wrong?"

"It's Lydia," she says softly. "There's a teacher missing. This is what happens when I don't check my bloody phone!"

"Not missing," he corrects. "If he's gone, he's taken. He'll be the next sacrifice."

The two teenagers lock eyes and quickly rush toward the front door. Right before they step foot on the doormat, someone jumps in front of them. "And what do you two think you're doing?"

Ophelia skids to a stop. "Nik, not a good time. Move." She gives her brother a look when he shifts his weight and folds his arms over his chest. "Are you kidding me? Move."

"Um, who's this scary man?" Stiles asks timidly.

"My brother," she replies. "Stiles, meet Klaus, Klaus meet Stiles.

Stiles' eyes widen comically as he realises exactly who is standing before them. "Oh, shit. You're the Original hybrid guy."

Ophelia rolls her eyes at the smug demeanour that takes over Klaus' body. "Get over it, you're not that special."

"My ego would disagree with that."

She grins. "At least you're self-aware." Her wrist is grabbed as soon as she makes contact with the door handle. "We're going to the recital that the school's putting on for the recent losses," she explains briefly. Her eyes flick down to his hand still gripping her arm. "Just let us go."

Klaus scoffs in disbelief immediately. He points to Stiles who stands uncomfortably behind the girl. "Yeah, he is." Then, he directs his finger toward his younger sister who is far too eager to leave. "The fuck you are. I don't remember the last time you went to something sappy like a recital."

Her mouth opens, then closes in defeat. "Yeah, neither can I."

When Stiles' phone rings loudly, both hybrids turn around to stare at him. Squinting his eyes, he holds the device up toward them. "Can I answer this? Or..." He trails off when both gesture for him to do so. "Scott, what's up?"

"We were wrong," the werewolf states, too rushed to give his friends a proper greeting. Stiles turns the call onto speakerphone. "It's philosophers as in teachers."

"You mean, Allison was wrong," Ophelia corrects, her lips twitching into a smile.

"Doesn't matter," Scott dismisses impatiently. "Her and her dad just found Mr Westover."

Stiles nods as his best friend unravels the news. "That makes sense. Tara, she wasn't always a cop. She used to teach middle school."

"Then the last one's gonna be another teacher," Scott concludes grimly.

Ophelia spares a look over to Klaus who appears fairly confused with the conversation that is being held between the three teenagers, however, she assumes he understands the important point: the next round of sacrifices are underway. "But Scott, we're about to head to a recital that's at the school. With all the teachers. They're literally begging to be sacrificed at this point," she points out.

"Then we better hurry up. I'll meet you guys there."

Almost as soon after the phone hangs up, Klaus is quick to jump in and share his opinion. "What I'm gathering from that is this Darach has done, what, eleven out of fifteen sacrifices? That sounds pretty shitty to me."

She slips the hair-tie off her wrist and sweeps her blonde hair up into a ponytail. "We need to stop them," Ophelia says firmly, looking between pair for their reactions.

Stiles nods in agreement, and his eyes dart over to the older hybrid. "We do, and I think we've got some pretty good backup."

When she catches on to what he is trying to say, she sighs. Another smile appears on Klaus' face when he finds the pleading expression his sister gives him. "You want my help?"

"What the fuck did you think you were here for?" Ophelia asks him incredulously.

"Wait," Stiles interrupts frantically. He turns around and gestures back in the direction of the living room where they had last seen Freya. "Is your sister the witch you were talking about?"

"That she is," Klaus confirms slowly. "Are you thinking about bringing her with us?"

Ophelia opens her front door and glances back to Stiles. "I don't think it's worth it. Wouldn't it be better to have her on standby instead?"

Klaus frowns at his sister in confusion. Her words contradict the single reason he and Freya are here for. "Go wait in the car, mate," he directs Stiles. Said boy nods, his eyes lingering on his friend for a few extra seconds before hurrying outside. Once they are without extra company, Niklaus takes a seat on the stairs leading up to the door. He pats the marble floor beside him, inaudibly asking her to join him. "What's going on?"

She swallows and begins to pick at the loose skin around her nails. Fucking nerves. "I just- Look, if this Darach is as powerful as they've been made out to be, don't you think they'd know about us, Nik?" Her brother stays silent. "I mean, you'd assume they know about me and all the wolves here, but you'd also assume they know about you and Freya arriving."

"What, you think having all three of us in the same place would be a bad idea?" His question is left unanswered. Klaus places his hands on either one of Ophelia's shoulders, prompting her to look up at him. "Don't you think if we have a chance to stop this bastard, we take it?"

"It's not that," she replies softly. The man knows something else is wrong when he catches sight of the tears welling up in her eyes. "Nik, we just lost Kol. If this thing is going to be there, do you really think having two hybrids, one of them being an Original, and a witch would be the smartest idea?"

"I would say yes-" He sighs at the look of frustration she gives him. "You think they'd try and take out what's standing in their way," Klaus concludes in realisation. When she dips her chin in the resemblance of a nod, his eyes close to avoid his own tears from starting to form. "You're worried one of us would end up..." He trails off, unable to say the word.

"Nik, we'd be the three most powerful beings in the bloody building. If I was the Darach, I'd be killing each one of us brutally as soon as possible to avoid having any problems in the future. I know you can't die, but it's not like they know that either. Freya and I can. I don't want her to die, I currently don't want to die, and I don't want you to end up wishing you were dead. As much as I don't want these sacrifices to be happening, is it really worth the risk tonight when we haven't prepared anything? We've got no advantage against them."

By the time she finishes, her words are a mumble, like she's afraid that if she speaks her mind aloud her words will come true. Klaus takes a deep breath and contemplates the different scenarios that could play out. "All right, let's make a deal, okay?"

"'Kay."

"We leave Freya here and get her to call some people about the Druid. Maybe one of her contacts know something that this vet and us don't. If we can't stop tonight, we'll be able to stop the next three. Sound good?"

Ophelia hums in agreement, not trusting herself to speak without breaking down into tears. She feels that over the last few days, she's cried more than in the last ten years. As much as she doesn't want an innocent human to end up in the claws of the Dark Druid, is it really worth risking the lives of her family? The family that continues to decrease in numbers by the month?

She doesn't think so.

And as a result, she would just have to live with an incredibly guilty conscience if tonight is to play out like everyone assumes it will.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

One thing that has also been on her mind ever since it had happened hours earlier was the moment she and Lydia shared in the locker room. It wasn't a secret that Stiles had been in love with the Martin since, well, forever. Ophelia Stone is one-hundred percent sure that she doesn't have any romantic feelings for Lydia. There might have been an attraction at first, but now it's purely platonic. In fact, she can't fathom being something more with the girl aside than best friends. In a way, it makes her feel slightly nauseous. The trouble would be to break it gently to Stiles that they had kissed, even though it didn't mean anything. There are two problems with the second half of that. Since she never asked, Ophelia doesn't know for certain that it didn't mean anything to Lydia. The other is that no matter how much she sugar-coats the statement, Stiles will no doubt lose his mind. That's what worries her the most. What would help solve both of those worries is to talk to Lydia about it first.

Then again, Ophelia despises confrontation.

Glancing over to the passenger seat, Stiles' eyebrows furrow slightly as he studies the girl beside him who appears to be stuck within a daydream. "Hey, you okay? You're really quiet."

Clearing her throat, she lifts her head off the window and gives her friend a small smile; something that does little to comfort either. "Just thinking about stuff," she quietly replies. "You?"

His eyes have returned back to focus on the road in front of them, but he still pays uttermost attention to their conversation. "Yeah- No- I think so?" Stiles sighs as the Jeep pulls into the busy parking lot of the school. Once the engine shuts off, he turns in his seat to look at his friend. "Do you reckon we'll be able to stop this thing? Like, honestly. What chance do we have?"

Ophelia frowns at the sudden lack of confidence he displays. "What's brought this on?"

"Just, I don't know if it's my place to say anything, but you obviously didn't want Freya to come tonight." Stiles continues to avoid eye contact, his nerves bubbling inside him as he struggles to finish what he is trying to say. "She's a witch, so, theoretically she'd have the best chance against the Darach over all of us. Aren't we kind of fucked on our own?"

It might be because Ophelia has been feeling incredibly emotional over the last few days that she snaps at him. "We've been on our own for the last few months, one more night isn't any different. And no, it's not your place to say anything." Without another word, she slams the door behind her and begins to walk toward the auditorium on her own.

Stiles stares out after her through the windshield, wondering what he could have said to stir up such fury. He feels a hand place itself on his shoulder when he exhales. "Don't take it to heart, mate," Niklaus reassures softly, his eyes still set on his sister who angrily kicks the bumper of a nearby car. The action sets off the alarm. He refrains his chuckle. "Not that it's any excuse, but she's having a much shittier time at the moment than she's letting on."

Even though he doesn't know Klaus that well at all, his words are somewhat comforting. They mean a little more when coming from someone that knows Ophelia so intimately. "Thanks," he mutters.

"And to answer your question, honestly, I think we are pretty fucked tonight." Stiles' eyes widen as he glances at the older man. "We may not be able to stop the sacrifice, but you're right. Freya is a witch and a damn good one at that." The Original pats the boy's arm a little too roughly, yet he doesn't seem to notice Stiles flinch. "We've got another three after this, and I'm gonna try to promise you that we'll be able to stop it from happening."

Nodding slowly, Stiles clears his throat and pockets his keys. Right before he goes to open his door, he turns back to the hybrid in confusion. "Wait, aren't you meant to be, like, ripping my throat out or something by now?"

Niklaus makes a face at his assumption. "Wow, my sister really has set a standard here for us vampires, hasn't she?"

"Yeah... So, are you going to kill me?"

"No, Stiles. I'm not going to kill you."

"I can't tell if you're lying-"

"Unless you hurt Ophelia. Then I will find a way to kill you."

The boy dryly swallows at the threat, his skin paled as he realises just how serious Klaus is. "Okay, yeah, you really are her brother. I'm seeing the resemblance now." The way the man grins at him makes things even worse. "Oh, God..."

Ophelia Stone feels shit. Actually, shit isn't strong enough of a word for whatever she is currently feeling. Her hands have felt clammy since the minute they had left her house, and every time she takes a step, she thinks she is about to collapse face first into the pavement, or better yet, faint. The conversation about tonight with Klaus sparked this feeling within her. It had sparked a number of feelings within her. Then, her overthinking about Lydia and Stiles made things worse, which led to her going off at her best friend in a way she knows is completely unacceptable. He deserves an over-the-top apology later, and an explanation as to why she had spoken to him like that in the first place.

So far, she's has never had a reason to go to the auditorium in the school. She had skipped all assemblies and meetings that required her presence, so really, she currently has no idea where the hell to go. She's far too petty to turn back around and wait for her brother and Stiles to catch up to direct her, so she's left to follow the small groups of people she hopes are also going to the recital. "Wait, of course they are," she mutters to herself in realisation. "It's six at night, no one else is at school at this time."

The first face she spots is her least favourite teacher that she has ever come across aside from Adrian Harris and Alaric Saltzman. Jennifer gives her a nervous smile as she approaches, the gesture leading Ophelia to stop before her. "Ophelia, nice to see you here tonight," she greets, her voice small and clearly conveying how uncomfortable she is to be sharing a conversation with the teenager.

"Yeah, well, it was either this or homework, so..."

Jennifer's smile falters momentarily. "Oh, uh, either way, thanks for coming."

Ophelia nods. Her eyes narrow slightly as she finds herself listening to the heartbeat of the woman. What she finds doesn't necessarily shock her, but it definitely surprises her. Instead of the organ thumping quickly from anxiety like how her body language is portraying her to be feeling, her pulse is steady. A steady, cathartic thumping at the average human heart rate. That sparks a flicker of concern in the girl more than it probably should.

Something isn't right.

As Ophelia's eyes casually dart across the teacher's face, taking the time to search for something that fits with the beating of her heart, a warm smile lifts at her lips. "No worries, Miss Blake, it's my pleasure. I'm sure everything will be wonderful!" She gently touches the woman's arm as she moves to walk past, following the groups of parents and students entering the building. "Do have a good night yourself."

As soon as her back is to the female, her smile drops off her face. There's something oddly uncomfortable about Jennifer Blake, and it's more than just how she had gained their phone numbers on the first day of class.

The second face she sees is the one that has been on her mind all afternoon. The locks of strawberry blonde hair act like a beacon for her. It's become like an instinct for Ophelia to go straight to the girl whenever she sees her. Feeling eyes on her, Lydia glances around until she finds her advancing friend. The smile she gives isn't as genuine as she wants it to be. "Hey, Fi."

"Hi," she greets softly. "I'm so sorry, I only saw your message half an hour ago. Are you all right?"

"Kind of?" Lydia sighs and moves a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's just, I don't understand why I'm the one that keeps finding the bodies. Or why I'm the one who ends up finding clues to who's missing, or whatever..."

"What do you want to do?" Ophelia asks. It's obvious how much her friend is struggling with whatever is happening to her, so she's open to trying anything to help make it easier. "Can I do anything?"

Lydia takes a deep breath as she glances over to the girl, meeting her eyes that are shining with concern. "Maybe if I stop trying to fight it... Maybe I'd be able to find them before it actually happens, so then people like you and Scott can do something about it."

She nods in understanding. Out of the corner of her eye, she spots the aforementioned werewolf lingering in a corner, glaring at the Steiner twins situated on the other side of the room. Returning her attention to Lydia, she says, "I'm with you, whatever you wanna do about this, I'm with you, love."

"Oh, do you..." Lydia hesitates to finish the question. Upon finding the comforting smile Ophelia is showing her, she gives in. "Do you think you could ask Klaus?"

"About you finding bodies?"

"Yeah," she replies timidly. "Maybe he'd have an idea if I'm something, I don't know, not human?"

"Supernatural?" Ophelia tries with a quiet chuckle. "Of course, actually, he's here tonight so we can ask him together if you want." Her smile grows at Lydia's immediate nod. Speaking of the man, she prides herself to be able to recognise her brother without seeing or hearing him. It's been long enough for her to recognise the male by scent. Which is how she knows it's him and Stiles as soon as the doors to the auditorium open. She can see him searching for her and as soon as his head snaps over to her, she whispers, "A few minutes alone, please. Just watch Stiles and the dog he's about to go over to." Her hearing picks up on his laughter at the word used to describe Scott, considering she hadn't introduced the pair yet.

As the orchestra begins to warm up on the stage, Ophelia builds up the courage to ask the girl beside her the anxiety inducing question she'd been struggling to bring up. Lydia seems to know something's on her mind as she's the one to instigate the conversation. "What's up?"

Ophelia sighs and directs her eyes onto the floor, counting each grain in the wooden floorboards. She's too nervous to look up. "I-I... I wanted to talk about this morning."

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, then her facial muscles relax and Lydia understands what is being referenced. "Oh," she whispers.

"Look, Lyds, I like you. No, I love you. But I don't think it's in the way you want it to be. I know you asked me out a few months ago and I shot you down. It was because of the no-humanity thing, but I still need to apologise because you didn't deserve rejection like that. I'm so sorry." Ophelia can feel Lydia's stare on the side of her face, but somehow she knows it isn't judgemental. "I don't want to give you mixed signals or anything because we kissed, but I-"

"You don't feel it," Lydia finishes for her.

When she finally makes contact with the girl's eyes, she is surprised to find her friend smiling. The complete opposite to how she would have thought she would have reacted. "You're not angry? Or pissed off? Or I don't know if heartbroken is the right word..."

The strawberry blonde giggles and grabs onto her hand. "No, I don't think so. Does it help if I say that I didn't feel anything when I kissed you?"

Ophelia's eyes widen in surprise. "I mean, yeah. Really?"

"Really. I couldn't think of anything else in the moment that would help to stop you from overthinking, and in hindsight, it was probably a good experiment to see if there was anything on my side still."

A brow quirks upward in question. "Is there?"

"Oh, God no," Lydia breathes. The speed of how quickly she responds makes Ophelia laugh. "To me, it's kinda like you're my sister now, so... It was like kissing my sibling. My incredibly hot sibling."

An invisible weight lifts off the hybrid's shoulders and she feels like her body finally has access to oxygen again. "Thank fuck. I was so worried about talking to you about this, I've been feeling really strange all afternoon. Like, every time I really thought about... this, it felt like someone was pressing down on my chest and I couldn't breathe."

Lydia gently smiles at her, the violins providing a pleasant background noise even if they are still out of tune. "That's called a panic attack. They suck."

Suddenly, the lights in the building begin to dim, and only then do the two girls realise that the dozens of rows of seating before them are filled with spectators. The conductor to the orchestra is now centre stage and the baton is waved a few times before the stringed instruments come to life. Just as Ophelia goes to reply quietly, Lydia sends her an apologetic look as her phone vibrates in the pocket of her jacket. "Who is it?"

"Aiden," she replies. Lydia hands over her device to the girl as she surveys the crowd to try and find said werewolf.

"'Need to see you right now,'" Ophelia reads aloud. "In the middle of the recital? Bit weird if you ask me," she mutters. As her lips close another message comes through, and she nudges Lydia's side. She giggles to herself and creates an excited tone of voice. "'Life or death!' Why is that so funny? Maybe it's the exclamation mark..."

"I'm gonna go," the Martin declares.

"What?" Ophelia questions her incredulously, receiving a few hisses from the people standing around them in warning to be quiet. "Lydia, are you insane? You're going to go visit your go to hook-up at night, at school, alone, with the Darach hanging around?"

She pauses and grimaces at the wording that has been used. "Okay, when you put it like that, it doesn't sound great..."

"Thank you," the blonde whispers to her. "Not a good idea." She sighs in defeat when the phone is shown to her once more displaying a third message from Aiden. "'It's about Scott...' Oh, that's great." She places a hand on her forehead and sighs once more. "Okay, fine. Go."

Lydia's lips ghost a smile, and she nods. "I'll be quick, promise," she reassures.

"Want me to go with you?" Ophelia tries.

"No, it's okay, I'll be with him if anything happens while we're gone."

She quickly hugs her friend before she is left alone, listening to the haunting piece of music the orchestra had chosen to play for the evening. She lays her head back against the wall and tries to take deep breaths, assuring herself that everything tonight would be fine. Because if it wasn't fine, it would be her fault. "Don't go berating yourself," Klaus tells her sternly. He raises his eyebrows when his sister's eyes fly open in surprise at hearing his voice so closely. He throws an arm around her shoulder. "Sherlock was down in the dumps after your spat earlier."

Ophelia glances up at him with a 'really' look. "Only I'm allowed to call him that. I'll apologise later, I just need some time to think about how."

He nods and uses his palm to pat her back. "How'd it go with Lydia? There's been something on your mind all afternoon, and I'm assuming it was about her."

"It was better than I thought it would go," she says with a smile. That smile disappears when she sadly discovers that the remaining living Argents are walking through the double doors with Isaac tailing behind. "You've got to be fucking kidding me..."

Klaus follows her line of sight, and immediately his eyes narrow once he gets a good look at the pair. Because Ophelia had told her family in detail (much detail) about her time in the Argent's basement earlier that year, the Original hybrid had a fairly decent idea of what her captors look like. Which meant that right now, he's having a fairly hard time refraining himself from going and ripping both Chris and Allison's hearts out in public. "Give me the word and I'll-"

"No," Ophelia interrupts. "No, Nik, no. Absolutely no."

"That's a lot of 'no's, sister," he muses with a grin.

Her eyes stay on Isaac as he offers her a wave when he catches her gaze and she smiles back at him. Then she moves on to Scott and Stiles in a hushed conversation. "I'm going to talk to the boys," she informs her brother. "You just stand guard like the vicious golden retriever you are," she adds, ruffling his mop of golden hair playfully.

As soon as she joins their side, Ophelia is met with reasonably loud questions. Stiles slaps his hand over Scott's mouth to shut him up. "Fi, where's Lydia?"

She looks between the two with a little confusion, unsure of why they seem so alarmed. "She went to go meet with Aiden, why?" If it's possible, their nerves reach a whole new level. Ophelia swears to Lucifer herself that she hears Stiles' heart actually stop beating for a millisecond. "Okay, what the hell is wrong?"

"Aiden," Scott begins lowly. "Is right there."

Now it's Ophelia's turn to have her dead heart stop. Right where Scott is pointing into the crowd are the twins watching the performance. The organ drops to the bottom of her feet as soon as her brain catches up. Stiles and Scott look at each other in alarm when she is no longer standing between them like she was a second ago, and they both spin around to rush out the exit doors, praying she's outside.

Standing with a man Scott doesn't recognise is their best friend, tears threatening to drop from her eyes as she desperately attempts to pry his hands off her arms. "Ophelia, you need to calm down for a second. You need to breathe; can you do that for me?"

"I am breathing, you fuck!"

The two boys rush over, and the attention immediately draws to them. Stiles nods to himself, and points to the man then back to Scott repeatedly. "Klaus, Scott. Scott, Klaus." He finds the confusion on the werewolf's face and adds, "Older brother."

"Right," Scott says. His eyes glow ruby as he surveys the courtyard, desperately trying to search for any heat signals that lead to where Lydia may be located.

"I'm assuming you know what's going on," Stiles directs to Klaus. The man nods at him curtly. "Okay, we need to make a plan. A really good plan."

Ophelia looks at him with narrowed eyes. "I have a plan," she states bluntly.

"Great! Ca-"

"Attack."

"Ah."

"When I find this witch-bitch... If a single strand of hair on her perfect head has been touched, I am going to kill them so brutally, they'll wish they never took their first breath." The pure ferocity and animalistic rage in Ophelia's eyes is enough to make Klaus Mikaelson realise that she's truly found a home in this place called Beacon Hills. She's found a family and damn does she love them all.

Three out of four freeze when a scream reaches their ears. It's not a scream of fear or pain, this is a blood-curling scream that shakes Ophelia to her very core. She's not even sure she would call it a scream. It's so loud, that all three of the supernatural creatures either cover their ears or drastically flinch. "Guys?" Stiles asks in concern. "Guys, what's going on?"

A single word is whispered by Klaus. "Banshee."

Neither Mikaelson siblings give any warning before they speed away, leaving Scott to follow their scent as the piercing scream diminishes. Following the sound of her best friend, Ophelia and her brother are led to a classroom with the door wide open. "Lia, wait a seco-" Klaus' hand on her arm is ignored as the girl charges inside, canines on full display.

The thundering roar that she produces causes the two women inside to freeze: one out of relief, the other out of a hint of concern. However, that concern disappears as fast as it had appeared. Ophelia tilts her head to the side as she stares at Jennifer Blake with glowing eyes. "I'd love to say I'm surprised right now, but I'm really not. Like, at all."

"Finally. It was getting incredibly hard to try and not rip your head off," the Darach replies dryly.

"Same," Ophelia snarks back. The rational side of her brain is long gone at this point, anger being the overarching emotion as she can only focus on how badly she wants this woman's heart on the floor. The veins begin to slowly crawl below her radiant eyes, then she pounces.

Even Jennifer seems to be surprised with just how fast a vampire can actually move, her actions lagging slightly until the fight response in her brain kicks in. The woman winces as a set of sharp claws scrape her stomach, creating a decent sized gash in the centre of her black singlet. A punch is sent to the centre of her throat, and she stumbles back in pain as her oxygen is briefly cut off.

Ophelia's small victory is short lived as a kick is placed on her torso and she flies back across the classroom, landing beside someone she didn't expect in a million years to be in the same room as right now. She glances at Noah Stilinski for a second, takes a deep breath as she pushes herself off the floor, and finally takes in the scene before her. "Nik, you need to get Lydia the fuck out of here. Don't worry about me," she mutters under her breath, far too quiet for even Jennifer to pick up on. She sees him hesitate for a second. "Please."

Bounded to a chair in the corner, Lydia Martin fights the battle between the land of consciousness with a stream of blood trickling down her forehead from her hairline. Her vision is blurry as she watches her best friend approach their teacher again, the dark Druid distracted by the physical conflict as Klaus rushes over to untie her feet and wrists. "Let's get you out of here," he mumbles.

After taking his time, Scott skids to a stop in the doorway and creates a roar that could possibly rival one of Derek's. He notices something blur past him and realises Lydia and Klaus are missing from the room. The werewolf falters briefly as he hears the crunch of bone, then sees Ophelia's body crumple to the floor. Jennifer stands metres away from her.

He doesn't question how the hell she had managed to do that, and doesn't worry too much about his friend, knowing that she'd be up again in a few minutes. Scott's eyes mimic the female Alpha's as he lunges forward to the woman. She swiftly dodges backward like she was sparring with someone for fun. He swipes at her again, however, all of his moves are careless, not calculated. He resembles how Ophelia had been a minute earlier.

The Darach casually bats one of his hands away from her, then firmly pushes her palm against his chest. Scott McCall is launched over a row of desks before his head smashes onto the floor. The boy spits out scarlet blood but is too fatigued to even think about standing up.

Jennifer's lips twitch into something that resembles a smirk once Stiles rushes up to the door. With a gentle push, the teacher's desk slams against it, restricting him from entering the room and leaving only a thin glass panel to peer inside.

Her eyes meet the Sheriff's and what limited facial expression she is wearing drops. The gun that was on the floor is now in Noah's hand as he points it at the woman whilst she stalks toward him, like she is the lion and he is her prey. "There was a girl," he begins, breathing heavily. "Years ago, we found her in the woods. Her face and body slashed apart. That was you, wasn't it?"

Jennifer stops before him. "Maybe I should've started with philosophers; with knowledge and strategy." She takes a step toward him again and the gun is fired. She only hisses in pain, and the bullet hole stitches up in a speed that matches a vampire's. "Healers," she continues, looking up to the man's bewildered face.

Grabbing the dagger that had already been lodged in his chest from before, Jennifer lifts him off the ground and twists his wrist with her free hand so the firearm in his possession is dropped to the ground. Noah is slammed up against a pile of stacked chairs with a cry of pain, trying to breathe as her hand remains around his throat.

"Warriors..."

The Sheriff's badge is ripped off the man's uniform. Ophelia's eyes groggily begin to open from her place on the floor.

"Guardians..."

Jennifer crushes the metal emblem in her hand and lets it slip from her palm to clatter to the floor. She leans closer to his face as she quietly finishes,

"Virgins."

Stiles has to look away for a brief second from the window in the door as the woman chastely presses her lips against his father's. When he looks back, the brunette hair and smooth skin is gone from the woman. Instead, her true form is now visible to everyone watching. His attempts to open the door become more desperate as he can vaguely see the large scars on her face.

With a new wave of adrenaline as she finds the Darach holding onto her friend's father, Ophelia ignores the throbbing pain in her neck and stumbles to the side as she stands up. A growl rumbles in her throat and her vampiric speed kicks into action.

Three things happen all at once. Stiles somehow gets the door open far enough to be able to slip inside, Scott's golden eyes open, and Ophelia's hand grasps the cloth of Noah Stilinski's uniform.

One of the classroom windows shatters and a breeze quickly floats into the stifling room. Stiles stops beside the girl with tears in his eyes, unable to believe what had just happened before him. She grabs onto his hand, and he clutches onto it so tightly she thinks he might break a bone or two.

"Dad?"

The only thought running through her mind is that it's all her fucking fault.

𝘏𝘪 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴!!

𝘐 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭.

𝘐𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘍𝘳𝘦𝘺𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘑𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 (𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬?).. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 '𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯 *𝘢𝘬𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵*' 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴.

𝘞𝘦'𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘵 3𝘉. 𝘈𝘓𝘔𝘖𝘚𝘛 𝘔𝘈𝘋𝘌 𝘐𝘛 𝘎𝘜𝘠𝘚