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"You are the snowstorm, I'm purified. The darkest fairy tale in the dead of night"

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THE SUN  rose to the sky about an hour ago meaning Klaus and I have been talking for just under two hours. It's not awkward or weird like I was scared it would be. After we confessed the sins of our past things seemed to go smoothly. He admitted he was sorry and I truly believe him. Part of me is still angered to my core of what he made me go through, but I have to forgive him unless I'll never move on. Besides, he's done more good for me in the past two years than bad, and that has to count for something right?

Apologies and past feelings aside, Klaus isn't a bad guy. I mean, of course he is bad, but not in the bad way everyone makes him out to be. I guess what I'm trying to say is that Klaus is a complex person, and in all honesty the choices he makes all connect back to his heart. He's a good man that does terrible things. He makes irrational decisions to protect his family, which in some cases makes him appear as a monster. Yes, sometimes Klaus can be selfish, but now he has a bigger reason to be selfless, that reason being Hope.

We have spent the two hours talking all about Hope and further more about the problems they have been going through the past few years. It appears like it wasn't a walk in the park for the Originals either, seeing as their apparent mother came back from the dead and brought Kol and Finn along with her. All the while Klaus is telling me this, I can't help but snort a laugh, genuinely feeling sorry for all the things they have gone through. It's unimaginable but never the less they are still here.

As the sunlight shines through the windows of the mansion do I realize it's time to wake James, so I find myself wandering up the stairs and into our guest room. To my surprise, James is just starting to stir awake.

"You're up early," James comments groggily, his voice still heavily influenced by sleep. "Why didn't you wake me?" he asks, sitting up in bed.

I shrug. "Didn't need to. Besides, you needed rest," I say before climbing into bed beside him. I wrap my arm around his bare torso and pull myself closer to his body, taking in his warmth. He returns the gesture by wrapping a strong arm around my shoulder, kissing the top of my head.

"I don't need rest," he sighs. "I just need blood, or a distraction to stop me from thinking of blood, at least until my body finally catches up in age with me." He frowns.

"I think I can help with the distraction part." I smirk, lifting my head up to kiss him on the lips, my hand dragging up his chest when suddenly the bedroom door bursts open just as my lips touch the surface of his.

We both turn our gaze to the door, a scowl immediately crossing our faces as a shirtless Joel leans against the door frame. "Get out," I growl, grabbing the glass candle jar on the night table, and throwing it violently at him.

Joel catches it with ease, the sound of the glass slapping against his hand as my strength sent it flying with such force. He looks over at his hand and then back at me with a mocking gape on his face, pretending to be shocked. "Blair!" he gasps. "We are guests here!"

I ignore his comment and instead pull out my phone, and snap a picture of him in a bare chest instead. "Why the hell did you do that?" Joel questions defensively.

"To send to Logan," I say, sending him a wink.

Joel laughs and waves it off, looking down at his muscular chest. It seems to be a common feature within the Branson brothers. "It's not like he hasn't seen me shirtless before," he mutters, before walking over to the bed. "So, what's the diagnosis on Jay Boy here?"

"Don't call me that," James says, scrunching his face up in disgust.

Joel throws the candle jar back in our direction, James catching it with ease. "I can call you whatever I want, Jay," Joel teases, testing James's patience on this early morning. 

James smacks his brothers hand away causing the two of them to continue this back and forth banter. "I'm stronger than you," Joel says as he manages to slap James on the side of the face. 

James scrunches his nose up, a smile appearing on his lips. "Not true," James says. 

"Yeah? In those two years you died I've been building up strength. Started a new O-negative diet," Joel says. 

"Are you two done yet?" I sigh. 

They both look over at me and step away from each other, the both of them still shirtless. "Anyways, what's your diagnosis?" Joel questions.

"He's old," I say bluntly.

"Pfft, what else is new?" Joel huffs a laugh.

"Hey jackass, we're just about the same bloody age!" James says in an offended way.

"Dude, did you just stay jackass? You know us Britts can't say that right? It doesn't sound English," Joel says, saying the word again in his British accent. "Jackass."

James shakes his head in annoyance but not long after do we all start laughing, waving it all off. It feels good to joke around with them, like they're filling in for the two brothers that I'm missing. But no matter how hard they make me laugh or how relaxed they make me feel they will never be Stefan and Damon. But for now they make me feel loved, and that's all that matters.

"Sorry to interrupt," Elijah suddenly says, appearing in the doorway already dressed in a suit. "But if you don't mind we have an entire day planned, so you all better be dressed and ready to go in ten." 

"Is that a new suit?" I mock him, squinting my eyes at the classic black outfit.

"Please, the guys practically sleeps in a suit." Joel smirks.

"At least the guy has a better fashion sense than you," James retorts, patting Joel on the shoulder.

"Are you saying Elijah has better fashion sense than a gay man?" Joel gasps, placing a hand mockingly over his heart. "Are you calling Elijah Mikaelson ga-"

"Okay," Elijah says with a laugh before slowly backing out of the room.

"You're such an asshole." I laugh, flicking Joel in the back of the head.

∆ ∆ ∆

It's even noon yet and the entire town square of New Orleans is filled with people- all kinds of people at that. It's amazing actually, to see all these different cultures come alive in the streets. There are farmers markets selling fresh produce, art galleries displayed on the sidewalk, and booths set up selling all sorts of crafts- one of which has peaked my interest. 

"How much?" I ask the seller, who happens to be an older lady. She has a smaller booth set up in the shade, along side other popular booths that seem to have more customers than her. I pick up a small, handmade doll of a monkey. It's eyes are too big and the stitches are all over the place but I can't bring myself to put it down. The matter of the fact is it's almost identical to the doll Stefan, Damon and I use to fight over all the time when we were kids. 

It's my doll that my mother had sewn for me, but Damon and Stefan always hid it from me, playing pranks. They would hide it around the house like it was some big game of hide 'n go seek, and every time I would get mad and start crying, and every time our mother had to take it away from us. I can't remember what happened to that doll, since my father took it away from me when I had misbehaved. For all I know he probably burned it, like he did the rest of my possessions when I did something he considered 'bad'. 

"Jeez, that thing is creepy," Joel comments, appearing behind me. Rebekah snickers from beside him, both of them amused with my choice of souvenir from New Orleans. 

"Usually people pick a snow globe or something," Rebekah jokes, nudging Joel in the arm. 

I ignore both of them not on purpose, but rather my mind is elsewhere, deep in thought. "Blair?" Joel asks when I don't respond. 

Everything has suddenly hit me right at this very moment. My older brother Damon is gone, and for all I know Stefan is gone too. Maybe I'll never see him again. It brings a sickening feeling deep in my gut the more I think about it, as in some ways I'm the last Salvatore left. A centuries old name, and I'm the last one standing. 

"Blair?" Joel presses again, more assertively this time. He grabs my shoulder to spin me around, snapping me out of it. "Are you okay?" 

I nod quickly, swallowing the lump in my throat. I turn back to the lady and hand her some money for the doll, but apparently it's not enough. "You no money, you no buy," she says in a thick accent. 

"I ah..." I trail off, turning to Rebekah and Joel. "I need more money, I need two dollars more. Do you- do any of you two- do you guys have any money? Just two dollars that I can have? I'll pay you back, I just need two dollars. I'm short by two dollars," I ramble, speaking quickly. 

"Blair relax, it's a doll. I'm sure we can find a cheaper one down the street." Joel assures me, adjusting his baseball cap he bought earlier. 

"No!" I snap a little to aggressively. "I need this one," I say sternly. 

He and Rebekah exchange glances, not knowing what to say. "Where's James?" I question, hoping that he'll have some money. "I need to find James," I whisper, searching among the crowds. 

"He's down the street with Klaus checking out the paintings," Elijah's voice sounds from behind me. He has his eyes slightly narrowed, studying me as Rebekah and Joel stand off to the side in confusion. "Is everything alright?" He tilts his head. 

"No, everything is not alright. I need two dollars. Do you have two dollars?" I question him, my mind racing a thousand miles a minute. My emotions are out of control, the guilt, sadness and nostalgia eating away at me. Suddenly I feel as if I can't breathe. 

Elijah sighs deeply. "I can compel-" 

"No! No compelling! I just need two dollars!" I yell loudly, squeezing the doll so tightly in my hands, some of the stitches begin to tear apart. 

Elijah stares at me with comforting eyes, giving me a small smile. "Alright Blair, I'll find you two dollars." He smiles and I nod. He then turns around to Joel and Rebekah, who stand there with both fear and concern plastered on their faces. "Find James," he tells them. 

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Joel whispers. 

"I think she's having a panic attack," Elijah informs. "You two need to find James now. He's the only one that can calm her." 

Joel and Rebekah nod, leaving me and Elijah standing there. "Blair, what is with this doll?" he asks gently. 

"I just need it," I say, my body beginning to tremble. 

"Why?" 

"It's about my brothers," I manage to say, taking quick breaths. 

Elijah nods, connecting the dots. I presume Klaus managed to inform him about Damon's passing and Stefan's disappearance. "Have you ever talked about your brothers, and what happened?" he asks. 

I don't respond, because frankly I haven't. I mean, James has tried to get me to talk or express my feelings, but most of the time I just waved it off. The first few days after Damon I cried, and then the sadness seemed to go away after a while, and then Stefan left and I just felt defeated. I realize now I had pushed it all under the rug, too scared to talk about it. All it took as a goddamn doll to make me face the truth and now I'm going to be forced to talk about it. 

"What's wrong? Is she okay?" I hear James's voice, turning to see him jogging over to us. Rebekah, Joel, Klaus and Theo follow behind them, Klaus holding Theo's hand. 

"She's having a panic attack, and if she looses control-" 

"The witches," Rebekah cuts him off. "If there's another incident, especially in broad daylight we'll never hear the end of it from Marcel, not to mention the bloody witches." She rolls her eyes. 

James ignores them and steps over to me, leaning down a bit so our eyes are level. "Come on, let's go home." He whispers. 

"I need the doll James," I tell him, hating how I'm so connected to a stupid toy. 

"She need two dollar," the woman speaks again. 

James reaches into his pocket, pulling out a dollar bill, short by another dollar. "Um..," he trails off, desperate for change. 

"Here mate," Klaus speaks up, holding out a dollar bill. 

James sends him a nod before taking the money and passing it to the lady. Once the doll is purchased, James takes my hand and leads me away from the crowds of people, everyone else following behind us. 

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[completed & edited: 10/05/2021]