Hi, sorry it's been so long - writing just hasn't been a top priority for me and I've been pretty out of it mentally. I want to update this only because it's so close to being finished. Thanks for the love, 

Skye

✧✶⭒☆⭒✶✧

Death wasn't what Talia expected. She imagined white clouds and harps and fluffy wings and golden halos. Not whatever this was. 

The sun dappled grassy clearing was large and surrounded by oak trees. The sky was blue and spotted with fluffy white clouds. The clearing itself was colored by wildflowers and different shades of green among the grass. 

Talia was barefoot and dressed in a loose, white dress. Her dark eyes focused on her surroundings blearily. She felt like there was a fog in her brain and she couldn't really remember anything from Before. She didn't really try to remember anything, either. 

The Companion liked the sun on her skin and the feeling of the grass underfoot. It tickled her knees as she sat down, crossing her legs and placing her hands behind herself to steady herself as she leaned back. 

The wind tickled her cheeks and cooled her neck as it moved through her hair. After a very, very long time, the woman noticed something weird about the scene. There was no birdsong or wildlife or signs of life. Also, there was no visible horizon past the trees. It was like the world ended there, right at the tree line. 

She blinked, chocolate eyes narrowing as she tried to remember how she had even gotten here. But, she felt so, so tired and it was so warm and maybe she could just lay down and take a short nap and-

No. No. Get up. Wake up. 

The woman stood, looking around. There was a sinking feeling in her chest and her mouth felt dry. Klaus. She wanted Klaus. 

She looked around, searching for her best friend. But, he wasn't there. 

How the hell had Talia gotten there? Where even was she?

She tried to rack her brain for the last thing she remembered. She remembered going to New Orleans. She remembered her night with Marcel. She remembered the party. She remembered running through the woods after having been kidnapped by the fae. She remembered Klaus's protective looks. She remembered so much. She recalled Tyler kidnapping Hayley and then meeting Nole and later meeting Roan. The laboratories . . . Daniel Sheehan . . . the ceremony and- and the bond had been back. 

The bond had been back.

Then the shaman had snapped her neck. 

Talia screamed, falling back to her knees and she touched her throat, shock soaring through her like a winged creature clawing at her chest. She was dead. She was dead. 

She scratched at her throat, but felt no pain. She was dead. Oh God, she was dead. 

Niklaus. 

Was he alright? If she was dead, he had to be, too. Where was Niklaus? Oh, Niklaus. If he wasn't dead . . . maybe he was happier. Hope had to have been born by now. Niklaus was probably better. He had to be happier. 

She was no longer a burden in his life. 

Oh, Niklaus.

The Companion felt herself fall back on the grass, limbs stretching out aimlessly as tears filled her dark eyes. If this was where she was to spend her eternity, she couldn't exactly complain. This was alright. This was beautiful. 

Talia looked up at the blue sky and felt her eyes close as she slipped into sleep. 

✧✶⭒☆⭒✶✧

Hope sat on the floor of the garage, her paints and canvas in her hand as she talked quietly to the casket. She was thirteen now. Her parents still didn't know about her curiosity with the body in the garage, and she made sure she was careful about sneaking in there. 

She was carefully trying to paint the Sleeping Woman (that was what Hope had named her). She was going to bring it to her father and bring up the fact that they had a dead body that never decayed in their garage.

Maybe Hope should've been a little bit more freaked out by that fact, but she wasn't. It had been so many years, and a part of her thought of the Sleeping Woman as her friend. When she was sad or angry with her parents, she came and talked and vented out her issues. The Sleeping Woman had become someone Hope could trust. 

Hope was also certain that the woman was only sleeping. She had thought about it long and hard multiple times and read lots and lots of books and knew that Death didn't have a weird energy around it like the Sleeping Woman did. 

The preteen witch was also still trying to figure out how to wake her up. She also had a theory about who the Sleeping Woman might be, just from stories her mother sometimes told her at bedtime of before Hope was born. 

"So," the witch started quietly as she shaped out the Sleeping Woman's face from memory, "Mom told me about how Dad used to have a best friend before I was born. A best friend he really loved." Hope looked over to the closed casket, her head tilting slightly as she talked. "Mom said her name was Talia and I think that might be you."

No response. Of course. 

Hope frowned, not really having expected one but there had been a little kernel of hope. A small inkling of wishfulness that maybe she'd have a friend that talked back. 

✧✶⭒☆⭒✶✧

Niklaus walked into the dusty garage and flicked on the lights. Boxes of Hope's old belongings filled the room along with tools and books and covered paintings and other things that belonged to his family. Things they had collected over the centuries. 

He weaved his way through the maze of things to a dark, back corner where a gray tarp covered a wooden casket. He stood still, staring at the dark shape in the corner, boxes piled around it. Something forgotten. But, not really. 

He hadn't gone a day without thinking of those dark eyes and sarcastic smiles and deep laughter. He couldn't forget her. Not ever. 

The Hybrid felt his heart rate pick up, fluttering anxious in his chest and his stomach flipped as he slowly approached the casket. The tarp was surprisingly clean of dust and he wondered if his fourteen year old daughter had been snooping. 

He'd have to talk with her about privacy later and remind her to not go in the garage. 

He pulled the tarp back, swallowing as he looked down at the shiny mahogany surface. He knew what waited for him underneath and he needed to see her. He had things he wanted to say, to vent out. 

The man swallowed before pushing up the lid and looked in. She looked peaceful and like she was only sleeping. Like if he brushed her face, her eyes would flutter open and a smile would grace her lips. Like she had never died. Ageless. 

He whimpered at the sight of her, his hands shaking. "Oh, Talia."

He reached out, his hand hesitating before it could make contact with her face and then he pulled it back, tears slipping down his face. "I miss you, love. Hope has grown so beautiful and tall and smart. She loves art and reading and riding horses. She's talented. You would be proud. I know how much you loved her."

He swallowed, looking down at his hands. "You did so much, Talia. I took you for granted. I should have gotten the bond back earlier. I should've protected you. I am eternally sorry, love. Eternally. I blame myself everyday for your death. I was horrible to you, Talia. I've grown though, or tried. I'm changing for my daughter. I hope you'd be proud of me."

He let his gaze return to looking at her peaceful features. "I'm going to tell Hope stories about you. I don't want you forgotten. I will never let you be forgotten. Elijah thinks it's time to put you to rest but I'm not ready just yet. I'm not ready to say goodbye. Maybe there's some way to bring you back. If there is, I'll find it."

He pulled away, rubbing his eyes and then kissed two fingers and pressed them to her lips. "Good-night, my love."

✧✶⭒☆⭒✶✧

When Hope was sixteen, her powers really started to manifest and get a lot more stronger. She grew distracted, forgetting about the body in the garage. Her focus was on her studies in magic and control with Aunt Freya.

Her father had also started taking her on trips to learn about her history. He took her to New Orleans and she met her Uncle Marcel and visited her Aunt Rebekah who had moved out of their cabin a few years before to live with Uncle Marcel, but still visited often. 

She also met Alaric Saltzman and toured his school. Her father wasn't sure if he wanted her to go there yet, but had been considering it as an option. Hope agreed, excited at the prospect of going to a real school. 

Alaric just smiled and introduced her to his teenage daughters. 

Months passed before Hope finally returned to the garage. She approached the tarp-covered casket in the far corner of the garage, hidden behind boxes of old toys and books. She slowly pulled the tarp back and opened the casket, her heart beating fast as she looked down at the beautiful woman who lay sleeping inside. 

"Hi, Talia. It's been awhile, I'm sorry for not visiting more often. I've been working on practicing my magic and then Dad took me on a trip. I might go to a real school! With other kids - they'll be from supernatural descent, but they'll be real kids! I might even meet a cute boy . . . or girl. I'm not really sure about my sexuality." She blinked and sighed, tilting her head as she looked down at the woman. "I hope you don't get lonely. I haven't talked to my Dad about you, yet, either. I want to know what happened to you."

The woman didn't respond, but Hope had long since given up on expecting her too. She just reached down, brushing her hand over the woman's face. Her cold skin still shocked the teenager, but it wasn't so bad anymore. 

Hope sighed, feeling guilty and sad and wishful and there was a deep well of emotions in her chest. She hesitated, her gaze turning to where Talia's hands were clasped on her stomach as an idea hit her. 

Over the years, Hope had tried a variety of ideas and spells to wake Talia, but none had succeeded. But now . . . Hope was stronger, maybe this time it could work. 

The witch gently tugged the stiff, cold hand out of its clasp and into her warm palm. She swallowed as she interlocked their fingers, her heart beating unnaturally fast as her nerves fired up. She was worried and scared, but this had to work. 

Hope closed her eyes, leaning forward against the casket as she took in a deep breath. She didn't say any spells, just focused her energy on her hand, on Talia's cold hand in hers. A light blossomed behind her eyelids, golden and warm and it slowly grew brighter. Her palm started to feel warmer, hotter. It felt like there was fire inching along Hope's wrist and down to her finger tips, going into Talia. 

The teenager, grit her teeth and groaned, pouring more and more of her energy and focus into the task as she imagined Talia opening her eyes. She heard the door to the garage slam open. She heard shouting and yelling and the vague sound of her Aunt Freya telling her father not to touch her. 

"What is she doing?!" Klaus yelled, anger and fear in her father's voice. 

The words sounded like they were coming from somewhere far away and underwater. Gargled and distant as Hope focused more and more on Talia's cold hand. 

Then - then, she felt something new. A twitch. Talia's index finger twitched in Hope's hand. But the young witch was starting to get tired. She tried to pour more energy, but she felt like she was going to collapse. 

A hand touched her shoulder and she was reignited with new energy. Aunt Freya. 

With the new source of magic to draw from, Hope poured everything she had into this. Talia's hand tightened around Hope's and the teenager could feel the spell working. She let out a scream followed by a burst of power and then everything fell black as she collapsed. 

✧✶⭒☆⭒✶✧

Talia woke with a gasp and sat straight up, eyes massive and wide as she looked around the new surroundings. She was sitting in a casket in what looked like a garage. Klaus and Hayley were kneeling next to a brunette teenager who was unconscious on the ground. Elijah was half crouched, but his dark eyes were wide as he stared at Talia. 

A skinny, tall, blonde, white woman was leaning on a shorter, dark-skinned woman with curly hair. The blonde woman had a bloody nose and was pale, her hands shaking. 

"Niklaus," Elijah breathed and the Hybrid growled.

"What is it, Elijah? I'm busy trying to make sure my daughter is alright," Talia's soulmate snapped, not lifting his eyes from the unconscious girl - his daughter, Hope. 

The Companion was frozen, staring at the scene before she tried to speak, but her throat felt raspy. She swallowed and then tried again. "Nik?"

The blond Mikaelson froze, stilling his movements from where he had been about to lift his daughter into his arms. His blue gaze slowly moved up and he was staring at Talia, shock and pain clear in his features. 

"Talia?"

Elijah picked up Hope and vamped out of there, the rest following after him, leaving the soulmates with privacy. Talia was shaking as she stared at her soulmate. She could feel the bond hot and running and comforting in the back of her mind, but she wasn't focused on the bond. 

She was focused on the open arms that lifted her out of the casket and pulled her into a steady chest. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing except the feeling of her in Klaus Mikaelson's arms. 

She sighed and leaned into it. It didn't matter what happened next, she was alright. 

Talia Monroe was going to be alright. 

✧✶⭒☆⭒✶✧

Thanks for reading!

Hope you had a fun time reading this story. It lacks romantic things for a reason. I wanted a story that differed from the rest. That actually showed there was more than just romantic attraction. Klaus doesn't have a constant love interest in the show because what matters most to him is family. Talia is family. She's more sometimes, but she is mostly family.

Their relationship is toxic and unhealthy, but Klaus isn't good at coping as we know from the show. Just as long as readers know that none of what they do is alright. 

Anyway, thanks for reading, sorry for the shit ending I just wanted this wrapped up and out of my hair. 

Skye

(they/them)