◤ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖞-𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖊: ❛ familial betrayals ❜ ◢

✧

HER BODY ACHED, SCREAMING AS SHE FORCED HERSELF UP FROM THE DIRT. This – without a doubt – was the worst part of transitioning. Not the bones breaking, not the losing a night, not the killings, not the inability to remember a goddamn thing, but waking up naked and afraid because at any moment, someone could come around the corner in the woods. It was a vulnerable position, both because she was without clothes and second because of the exhaustion, and not knowing how long she had been asleep.

          It was at least too long of a time for someone to come and grab her. Enough time for people to do it before, and she doubted it would be the last. She was too experienced to believe that.

          But today she was lucky – or as lucky as one could consider themselves. Dirt covered her, her hair was a mess, and there was a deep hunger inside of her after burning calories without a meal while in wolf form. She needed to rest, take the day off, but with how New Orleans had been running recently, she doubted she would have the chance to cool off.

          So, doing the best she could, she ignored the burn in her body as she moved, navigating as well as she could back to the tree she hid her clothes. Thankfully, she knew this area well. She had been in New Orleans for well over a year, had her transformations in the same spot, and always ended up near the same area. At least her wolf knew not to stray too far from base.

          Quickly shimming into her clothes, she turned her phone back on, seeing dozens of missed calls from Elijah, Hayley, and Marcel. Something in her stomach dropped and a frown plastered itself across her face. They knew it was the night of the full moon – they knew she would be unreachable – so why were they trying to reach her?

          She ran out of the bayou, getting into her car and speeding her way to the Compound. The place was quiet – eerily – and it made the hairs on her body stick up. "Elijah?" she called out once she was inside, looking around for anything to move, but he never came out of the shadows.

          After a moment of tense silence, a door creaked, and then Hayley appeared. Marisol rushed up the stairs to her, looking her over for a moment before pushing out her next words, "What happened last night?"

          "Klaus and Rebekah are missing."

          Marisol took a step back. How did two Originals just go missing? How does that just occur?

          "What?" she breathed out.

          "And there was an attack on me. At the plantation home – I almost burned. Elijah saved me," Hayley continued.

          Marisol turned away. "It's the witches, isn't it? They're behind this."

          "They have to be," the pregnant werewolf agreed, going to stand with Marisol and look down at the lower level of the Compound, "I don't know where Elijah went, but he's ordered everyone to help in the search."

          "Good. That's...it's good. Is it clear if the intentions are to kill Klaus and Rebekah or just have them under control for later use?" Marisol asked. Originals carried a lot of power, lots of strength, and lots of energy to draw upon. All of which placed them in the perfect position to be kidnapped for power.

          They were an intimidating enemy but a powerful ally.

          "Celeste gave Elijah the chance to either save me or one of his siblings and has given him the key to finding them now as well. She wouldn't do that if she wanted them dead."

          Marisol's head snapped immediately to Hayley. "Celeste? She's here – Elijah saw her."

          Hayley hesitated before nodding, a sad and sympathetic look coating her features. "I'm sorry."

          "Why are you sorry?" Marisol laughed at her lightly, "You weren't the one who kidnapped them."

          "But I know what Celeste meant to Elijah, and I know what you mean to him now," the pregnant werewolf took her hand, squeezing it softly as a sort of comfort.

          I care for you.

          The four words echoed in her head again, and she played the scene over. Elijah's eyes staring into her own, the raw genuine nature of it. The whisper of a quiet confession, as if he was scared of baring his soul – as if he was baring his soul to her.

          "I don't know what you're talking about," Marisol swallowed, though she didn't take her hand back from Hayley.

          It was clear to her then, when he said that, that her quiet competition with Celeste in her head – the whining and pining – was foolish. Well, she always knew that, but it had been confirmed. Celeste was a figure of the past, like she had been, but the difference was that Marisol was in the light again while Celeste had shrouded herself in that darkness, allowing it to become her.

          Marisol had no pretty soul to bear, but she did have good in her. She had love. A love for her nephew, a love for Hayley, and a...maybe a love for Elijah.

          She certainly enjoyed him and adored him in the finest ways. He danced around her, or maybe they both danced around each other, and for so long he had been this elusive spirit who thwarted her but now he was of something of the same kin as her. He matched her, and they weren't ghosts of the past but figures of the present.

          He cared for her, but that did not mean that he loved her. And she adored her, but that did not mean she loved him. On the inside, if she was truly honest with herself, she thought that she could, if given the chance. She thought of Elijah, and she could love him.

          Maybe he could love her.

          "I heard your conversation with him – in the study," Hayley admitted and Marisol's eyes widened, "I didn't mean to. But, well, wolf ears never stop, you know. And I'm nowhere close to blind, so I can how he looks at you. He does care for you, more than he ever cared for Celeste."

          "You don't know that," Marisol shook the notion off again. It was simple, in words, but in actions it was complicated. In reality, it wasn't just words and adoration. It was war and blood, the past colliding again, tension, and enemies.

          "I do. He would burn the world for you."

          "He would burn the world for his family," she corrected Hayley, "For you, Klaus, Rebekah, the baby...he would burn the world down. For me...I don't know what he'd do."

          Hayley looked her up and down, assessing her, "When they're back, I hope you consider it at least. Him. You'll regret it if you don't."

          Leaving her with that, Hayley turned back and went right through the door she came from, leaving Marisol to her own devices. She stood there for another moment, reeling over Hayley's words.

          Elijah wouldn't burn the world for her, but she wouldn't either. She adored him, sure, but she didn't love him. Not like Magnus. He wasn't her heart. If he died, she would live. But without Magnus...without Magnus there was no Marisol.

          I care for you.

          Four words that were practically burned inside her head by this point. She ached again, sighing, and determined. She knew what she wanted, she knew what she had to do, but first she needed to take a shower. 

✧

          THE WARM WATER helped the ache in her muscles, alleviating the burn temporarily as she scrubbed herself clean. Sadly, her shower didn't last as long as she wanted since people were still missing and she certainly wasn't going to wait around while others did the work getting them back.

          She rushed through her routine, getting dressed in time to see Elijah running into the Compound. "Anything?" and oh, when did Marcel get here? She knew she wasn't in the shower that long, or at least she didn't think so.

          "They're putting eyes and ears out everywhere. Daywalkers are working every contact we've got. Cops, dock workers, guys in the Treme...word is out: anyone trying to ear favor with me gets a lifetime of it if they find them."

          "Good. I need a pen and paper," Elijah nodded in Marcel's direction, then moving past him.

          Annoyed, Marcel rolled his eyes and responded with, "Hey, am I taking orders from you now, or are we in this together?"

          Marisol moved downstairs as Elijah started taking his jacket off, but he paused when he saw her. "Marisol," she swallowed as he said her name, "You're back."

          "Hayley filled me in on everything that's happening. Would've been back sooner but I was too busy, well, wolfing," Marisol nodded.

          Elijah continued to stare at her for another moment before his body twitched, as if alerting him of an itch again, and he gritted out, "Pen and paper, Marcellus. Now!"

          "I want her back just as much as you do, you know...the both of them," Marcel bit back again but nonetheless moved to go obtain the supplies Elijah ordered of him.

          Marisol sucked in a breath, turning away as Elijah then began to unbutton his shirt. This was not what she expected during this mess – seeing Elijah strip in the middle of the courtyard. Still, she took a peek, only to find tattooed names across his chest. "I never took you as a tattoo man," she blinked.

          "I'm not," Elijah caught her eye before turning away, "Hayley!"

          "Elijah! You're back. Did you find any..." Hayley had just about the same reaction as her when she saw that Elijah was currently without a shirt on, "...thing? What is happening?"

          "I need you to make a list of these names," he explained before looking back Marisol, "You as well."

          She opened her mouth, apprehensive, before sighing and taking a step forward. He had a nice chest, she had to admit, though now was not the ideal time to do so. Her eyes swept across the names before stopping. "Sabine...?"

          "I believe they represent the names of the women Celeste inhibited for the past two centuries," Elijah explained as Marcel walked back in with the pen and paper, which he handed to Hayley.

          "It's called a Devinette. It's old school. Kind of a riddle. Witches use them to teach their kids. Solve it, and it disappears," Marcel further explained as to why the names were on Elijah's chest.

          "My mother did one once," Marisol recalled softly, "She knew from birth what our gifts were, and the Devinettes were created to unlock them for us because she bound them until we came of an appropriate age."

          Blinking, her mind pulled back the face of her mother. They had the same hair and eyes. She had wrinkles but not as many as she should have. There was a sternness to her, a firm nature, expectations for her young ladies, but a softness. She missed her.

          She was furious when she had her own Devinette, learning that her mother had bound her gift while all the other little girls got to experience theirs from the moment magic called for them. But then the visions, the screaming in her head, the blood, the weight of how dangerous her spells could be...she would forever be grateful then that she had a childhood before the visions ruined it.

          When she opened her eyes again she saw that they were staring at her. "Sorry," she crossed her eyes, "That doesn't matter, but Celeste's does."

          Hayley shook her head. "I still don't see the point of them."

          To prove you are ready.

          A young version of Marisol had wondered the same thing, searching for the key to her Devinette, frustrated that nothing she thought of was the answer. She hated that answer at the time, but she was grateful after she solved her and her gift was unbound. She needed to be ready.

          "Celeste forced me to make a choice between yourself and my siblings, and now she means to mock that choice, taunting me with a childish game. The longer the game, the more they suffer. To find Klaus and Rebekah, we need to solve this riddle. The solution lies somewhere in these names."

          "The name next to Sabine...Annie La Fleur, she's the witch that was shunned from her coven just over a year ago. Never knew why, but I can find out," Marcel said.

          Marisol shook her head. "I don't think that'll be the answer. Celeste's past lives are probably connected with you all. None of you were in town last year. Annie doesn't mean anything to any witch in connection with you."

          She looked to Elijah as she explained herself. Marcel sighed next to her, "It's still a place to start. We can't just sit here and wait."

          Knowing it was a losing battle, Marisol nodded. "Alright," then she picked up another piece of paper and pen and began writing down names as well. Once they were done, Elijah dressed himself quickly and sped out the door before anyone could stop him.

          Marisol looked at the names on the list, none of them sparking any memory in her mind. She didn't know the witches in New Orleans well, fair, but she had heard from legends from Amelia and other witches. Still, these meant nothing to her.

          "Someone should probably go with Elijah," Hayley broke the new silence.

          "Elijah will fine on his own," Marisol returned with confidence but Hayley just elbowed her, causing her to finally look up from the names and to the pregnant werewolf, "What?"

          "Go," Hayley shooed her with a fierce look in her eyes.

          "I'm not gonna go. I wouldn't even be able to catch up to him. If anyone should go, it should be Marcel," Marisol snapped back.

          Marcel made a noise of disagreement. "We should split up. I'll start looking into other names on the list." Then he sped away as well, leaving Marisol with the glowering Hayley.

          "If you're trying to play matchmaker, now is not the time," Marisol shook her head.

          "I'm just saying..."

          "Hayley," she stopped the other woman, "The last thing Elijah needs right now if me slowing him down. Besides, I just think that there's more to this than just the names."

          "What are you thinking then?" Hayley took a seat beside her.

          Marisol bit her lip, searching her mind. "All the resurrected witches died because of the Mikaelsons. They had a clear desire for revenge which Sabine – Celeste – could use. And they were powerful. Ridiculously so. It stands to reason to me that another vengeful spirit is still out there helping her."

          "Well, who could it be? They don't exactly have a lot to say about other dead witches."

          "Marcel did," and it clicked, "Marcel thought he saw someone who was dead. A witch that he and Rebekah took care of. All I have to do is find her."

          Excitement coursed through her veins, heart pumping rapidly in her chest, as she looked over at Hayley.

          "You say that as if it's going to be a walk in the park," Hayley brought her back down to reality, "Do you even know anything else about this witch?"

          "Okay, I don't, but Marcel does and I can do research."

          "If any book has a mention of her. Not everyone is memorable in history."

          "Wow, you are being such a Debbie Downer," Marisol scoffed, though she did have to admit that it was a good point. Anyone looking for information about her would have nowhere to look in. She didn't do anything remarkably memorable in any history book. But keeping a low profile kept her alive.

          "I'm being realistic. Celeste lived many different lives, and she's smart enough not to draw attention to herself. How many times did we meet with Sabine not knowing who she really was?" Hayley questioned.

           Marisol huffed, getting up from her seat and moving around. "Okay, I see your point even though I don't like it. But fine. I'll wait here for you and I won't go do my research. We'll just wait for them to find something."

          "I never said we wouldn't do anything. There's plenty of old-timey books here. We've gotta find something," Hayley got up as well, though slower, and walked straight to the study, Marisol trailing after her.

          Her nose wrinkled at the dusty books – she had never been the biggest reader even when that was the only source of available entertainment, way before TVs and phones. But this was for Klaus and Rebekah, and she supposed that she liked them enough to suffer through reading boring records of the past.

          Time escaped her as she read, only being notified by the shift when Hayley's phone went off. She heard Elijah's voice on the other end explaining what he had found about Annie La Fleur, pretending that she was still invested in her book and totally not eavesdropping.

          Eavesdropping was rude and she would never do that – never.

          "She killed herself?" Hayley asked in response to Elijah, and Marisol blinked.

          "Yes, drowned in the Mississippi, to be precise. Celeste was clearly tired of the body and ready to take Sabine's."

          Well, that was one way to body jump. Marisol didn't have much experience – or any, really – with switching bodies, but she didn't think death was the only way to move on to another. Hey, what did she know? She wasn't the long gone witch trying to live forever by jumping bodies now was she?

          "How do you know that?"

          "Because she leaped to her death from the very location Celeste and I had our first kiss."

          Well, that was creepy. Marisol thought that she hung onto the past too much but she didn't do anything close to them. All she did was cry and make her chest ache, but die at locations she used to have her first kisses with people at.

          "Poetic, I guess..." Hayley frowned, "in a creepy-vendetta sort of way."

          "All these names, these lives, stolen that Celeste might take her revenge. I suppose we have no choice but to see where they take us. Hayley, I have to go. I'll call you back."

          "Elijah, wait!"

          Marisol raised her eyebrow, because even though she was sitting in the same room as Hayley, she still had no clue what the pregnant werewolf was going to say.

          "What is it?"

          Hayley glanced over to her and Marisol switched her eyes from her to the words on the page before her again. "Ask Marcel if he knows anything about a name on that list – Brynne Deveraux. Sophie said that it was her family's bloodline that put the curse on the Crescent wolves, but Celeste said that she was the only one that could break it. If Brynne Deveraux was actually Celeste when she cast the spell, then maybe Celeste can still break it."

          "I'll see what he knows," Elijah readily agreed.

          "Elijah, I'm really sorry that you're going through this. If I had known that Celeste made you choose who to help –"

          He didn't allow her to finish, "You were going to die in that fire along with my brother's child. There was no choice."

          The line went dead and Hayley put down her phone with a small huff of annoyance at how he decided to end the call. Marisol didn't let herself wonder what would have changed if she had been a part of this equation. If her life hung in the balance, along with Hayley's and his siblings, what would happen? What order would she be placed in to be saved? Last?

          No – she wasn't going to think about that. It didn't happen, so she didn't need to dwell on the possibilities of something nonexistent. All that mattered was that she wasn't taken.

          "Brynne Deveraux?" Marisol questioned, flipping the page of her book even though she had no idea what was happening on the previous page she had read.

          "I knew you were listening in," Hayley thought she was coy.

          "Well, you're sitting right in front of me, and wolf ears, as you said earlier. Couldn't help myself," Marisol shrugged, because it wasn't a big deal at all that she heard everything.

          Hayley stared at her for a moment while Marisol continued to act as if she was actually reading the book. "I know that you don't agree with me wanting to break the curse on the wolves and learn more about my heritage, but it's important to me no matter what you say. I know that they don't define me, but it is my past. I want to know about my parents and the people I could've been a part of. I need to know if there's a way to break the curse, and if there is, I need to do it.

          "I got to meet them last night," Hayley continued, "And it wasn't the picture-perfect reunion that I had been dreaming about, but it was enough. I want to try again and I want to understand them."

          They sat in silence, Marisol thinking of the right words to say. She did not think the wolves would be any good, they held vengeance against Marcel and she would always protect her friend. But...she had said enough. She had be skeptic enough.

          "I never knew my father. My mother raised three children by herself and never spoke a word about him. I suppose it's because he was a wolf who probably turned after my youngest sister was born and my mother cast him out. I never wanted to find him, especially after I turned. Werewolves were the most hated creatures of my coven – even more than vampires. They were abominations that killed without control."

          She took in a shaky breath, turning to Hayley. "I'm saying that because I can't relate to you. I don't understand why you need to know about your parentage and your people because I have never desired that. But what I do know is that family is not a dream; they are still capable of being the villain in your life just as mine was to me. My genetics made me a wolf, and my sister cursed me. If you're expecting a dream with them, be warned; that's not always the reality of the situation."

          "I know that. And I'm prepared is that happens."

          "Are you?" Marisol asked, her tone lifting up with skepticism, "You say that you aren't blind and neither am I. You want a family, more than anything, and you see this as your chance to have the family you should've had. But you can't walk into it with fully; keep one fit in the exit because I honestly think things will go south before they will go north."

          "Why are you expecting that they'll be bad people? Because your coven hated wolves?" Hayley spat at her.

          She shook her head. "I'm skeptical because this is New Orleans and every faction has been forced into submission by Marcel and the Mikaelsons. Because of your baby, you are aligned with them and against the wolves. They might've been your family, and maybe they still are, but you need to start viewing them as a potential enemy rather than friends."

          Hayley's eyes held a storm brewing as she held her mouth shut, going red in the face. Marisol was expecting a scream, a shout, a yell, but there was nothing as Hayley swallowed it down, shaking her head and turning away, leaving the room.

          She knew she was harsh, probably harsher than she needed to be, but all she wanted was to protect Hayley. Even though she didn't view herself as it, she was vulnerable. She wasn't at full strength due to pregnancy and Marisol wanted to protect her. The wolves could be great, the family Hayley had dreamed of, but they could also be a new enemy lurking in the corner.

          Marisol was prepared for either option, she just needed to make sure Hayley was too. By the looks of it, she wasn't even though she claimed that she was.

          And she was being a bad guy by being honest; she was playing a part she knew well but hated. She had been the bad cop to Magnus plenty of times even though it broke her heart, and she was doing it again for Hayley. But it was for their protection, it was for the best, even if it didn't feel that way in the moment.

          She sighed, resigning herself to Hayley's quiet fury for the foreseeable future and getting comfy in her chair again, reading Elijah's old journal for anything helpful.

          Hayley didn't join her again, nor did she hear or see any sight of the pregnant werewolf, until Elijah returned to the Compound. It was then that Marisol herself rose from her chair, leaving the journal behind, and moving to meet Elijah and Hayley in another part of the building.

          And by the time she got there, Marcel had arrived as well. She blinked, but didn't flinch because she was used to vampires speeding up and around like it was nothing even though to her – and others who weren't vampires – it wasn't just nothing.

          "Find anything about Clara, the mystery witch?" Marcel asked and Marisol blinked again. Apparently she had missed something because she had no clue who this Clara was supposed to be or that they were supposed to be looking into her.

          "Not much. She was a nurse at the Fleur-de-Lis Sanitarium," Hayley answered and Marisol looked back to Marcel, who froze as if seeing ghost after hearing the name.

          She frowned, reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder but he didn't move an inch. She opened her mouth to say something when Hayley asked, "Recognize her?"

          Marisol's eyes flickered to the computer screen where Hayley had pulled up a picture of old nurses. "Top row, second from the right."

          "No, I don't. Marcel?" Elijah asked, and the others turned to see the frightened state he was in as well.

          "Marcel?" Elijah asked again, "Do I need to remind you that Niklaus and Rebekah are somewhere suffering horribly? If you know something, talk."

          It seemed that did the trick as he snapped out of his trance, though he was still looking paler. "The Sanitarium. That's where you'll find them."

          "Are you sure? How do you know?"

          "I just know."

          "How do you know?" Elijah doubled down, repeating the question that Hayley asked, staring intently at Marcel.

          Marcel made eye contact with Marisol. She hoped to convey with her eyes a question of whether or not it involved Genevieve, the witch who had come back to life, and Marcel nodded as if he understood her question.

          He tore his eyes away from her after their silent conversation and to the others. "If I'm right, you need to know exactly what we're walking into. We did something, Rebekah and I...I think the witches are trying to use it against her. It was, uh...something you're not gonna like."

          And so he did. He explained the love affair between him and Rebekah, how they wanted to escape Klaus so that they could finally have a life together, how they planned to lure Mikael to New Orleans so that Klaus would leave and they could be together at least. It was a touching story, very romantic, except for the part where it didn't work in the slightest and the city burned and they never got their happily ever after as they planned.

          "For the better part of a century, I have wondered how Father found us, what foolish mistake that we had made to destroy out time in the one place that we could finally call home. Did you know, I even blamed myself for a time, Marcellus?"

          It was that quiet fury that Elijah held, the collected nature as he calmly explained himself that terrified Marisol. Loud fury – yelling, screaming, violence – she understood. It was a fool's fury that she liked because it was easy and it meant nothing. But Elijah's was calculated, it wasn't quick and it didn't burn bright, the flame burned for a long time and she was terrified for Marcel because of it.

          And Elijah only stared at him, adamantly, firmly, coldly. His eyes never leaving so that he could escape his fire.

          "Elijah –"

           "Niklaus treated you like a son."

          "Rebekah. I loved her. I still love her. All we ever wanted was to be together, but as long as Klaus was around, that was never gonna happen. But hey, I guess you wouldn't know anything about that, huh?" Marcel stood firm, pushing back and poking the bear.

          "When Klaus learns the truth, there will no end to his rage. I will not let my sister suffer that wrath," Elijah said after a moment, his eyes cutting from Marcel to Marisol.

          "Then we need to get to them before he learns the truth," Marcel resolved.

          "Sorry, but that's a fat chance. They've already had so much time to spill the beans, so I wouldn't be surprised if he already knows," Marisol broke him, "I guess, what I'm trying to say is: we should book it."

          Elijah and Marcel shared another look before grabbing and taking Hayley and Marisol, speeding towards the Sanitarium. Once they got there, Marcel let her go, and her limbs felt a little too loose like always. But he held her up until she got her balance back.

          "Hayley, stay here," Elijah ordered before walking in. Surprising, she didn't argue this time.

          Marcel took Marisol's hand and they trudged in as well, rushing to where Klaus had just thrown Rebekah off of him. Marisol took her own try at the rabid hybrid but was quickly thrown against the wall, causing her to groan.

          "Just the man I wanted to see," Klaus grinned at the sight of Marcel, punching him with all his weight and knocking the vampire around easily. "Rebekah's punishment won't be complete until she watches you die."

          "Nik, it was my idea to summon Mikael. If you're gonna hurt anyone, it should be me," Rebekah pleaded.

          "Such loyalty to your beloved. You know, if you had offered me even a fraction of the same, I wouldn't have to do this."

          "Maybe she didn't offer it to you because you didn't earn it, dickhead," Marisol groaned out from where she was. God, he knew how to throw. She was sure that her arm was broken for sure.

          Klaus snarled and her comment seemed to fuel his rage more as he lifted the blade in his hand, about to stab Rebekah in the heart when Elijah rushed in behind Klaus and changed the direction of the blade, stabbing Klaus in the chest with it.

          "Go. All of you. Run as far and as fast as you can. Run!" Elijah called out to them.

          Marisol stood up, wincing and – yeah, no, her leg was definitely broken as well. Vampire – well, vampire and werewolf strength combined – was definitely no joke.

          "Marisol!" Elijah called out once Marcel and Rebekah had sped away and Klaus was unconscious on the ground, going towards her. "What happened?"

          "Klaus threw me against the wall," she winced as he grabbed her arm, "I'm fine."

          He sent her a look. "If this is fine, our definitions for that word are vastly different. Here –"

          He bit his wrist and offered it to her, and even though she didn't like the taste of blood, she hated the thought of waiting for her healing to kick him even more, so she took his wrist and allowed his blood to drip down her throat, working to repair her broken bones.

          Once it had begun to work and she could stand on her own, she looked at the state of Klaus and then back to Elijah. "What happens now?"