Chapter Text
Hope feels empty. She can’t concentrate on anything, and the world around her is constantly muddled and diluted. Her thoughts are exhausting, bouncing around her head at every hour of the day. Even after hours of being in her wolf form, she’s still off center like nothing will ever properly be balanced.
She’s thought about returning to New Orleans, visiting Aunt Freya, Keelin, and Nik. Hope needs the break, really, and nothing is keeping her at the Salvatore school. Her friends don’t need her. They’re all in healthy relationships, and she no longer has the capacity to third wheel them. Every time she’s with them, they give her sympathetic frowns and attempt to keep the PDA at a minimum.
Hope hates that they have to be less expressional of their budding romances around her, but she can’t deny the feeling of longing that stabs across her chest when remembering that used to be her once. Happily in love and overly affectionate.
Hope Mikaelson was in love once. Well, she still is. Warm doe eyes always pierce right through her, and the memory of flushed tan skin never ceases to leave her. Slim fingers and cold palms fit perfectly in hers, and soothing embraces always left her content and wanting more.
What’s worse is that Hope’s room still reeks of vanilla and lavender. Her comforter, her pillows, her desk, her bathroom, and her paints for god’s sake smelled like the brunette. It’s intoxicating and always leaves Hope wanting to run straight into the arms of the Saltzman.
It’s been two weeks since she’s given up on talking to Josie. Just thinking about it makes Hope’s heart seize, clenching painfully at the thought of the siphoner. Her throat closes up, and her fingertips tingle with the overload of misery and sorrow. It reminds Hope of when her parents died; the feeling coursing through her veins similar to that of grief, except her parents have passed away, and well, Josie Saltzman is still alive and breathing.
Deciding that staring up at her ceiling won’t help her sleep, Hope shuffles out of bed and heads to the kitchen. A midnight snack should at least settle her rather bottomless stomach. Although before she enters the room, mellifluous singing floats through the open doorway, and the familiar scent of vanilla and lavender fills her nostrils mixed with the apple pie baking in the oven. The brunette always baked whenever she was having a particularly rough day.
Hope hasn’t heard Josie sing in months, her voice still as heavenly as ever. After a few lines, Hope recognized the song as a slowed down version of “Say Something” by A Great Big World. Obviously Josie is struggling through something right now, considering she’s baking and singing a heart breaking song. It takes everything in the auburn haired girl to not rush in and smother her with a hug and forehead kisses.
But no, Hope promised herself that she would give Josie her space. She spent two months trying to get the brunette to open up to her after she got buried alive and had to siphon away her mother’s life force. Hope knows a thing or two about killing your parents, but every attempt at talking ended with Hope being shut down. Soon after, ignoring Hope turned into irritation and maybe even anger.
The tribrid eventually stopped trying because Josie would end up using her insecurities against her, and the siphoner knew everything about her so it almost broke Hope. Some days Hope thinks MG is lucky because despite having to pine after Lizzie for years, he wasn’t shut out when the twin’s mom left. Instead, he was supporting her through the grieving process and holding her during nightmares. Hope tried to do that, but all Josie did was push her away for it.
Hope briefly wonders if that’s where she went wrong. Maybe Josie was already drowning, and Hope’s efforts were keeping her head under rather than pulling her to the surface. The Mikaelson questions if Josie has made it to the surface yet—if she finally crashed through the water and could once more breathe in oxygen.
Sighing, Hope sits down in the hallway and waits. Waiting for what, she’s not quite sure, but she basks in Josie’s melodies and inhales her presence. She thinks about how this might be the closest she’ll be to the siphoner, in the same building but entire galaxies away from each other.
Maybe she should move on from Josie. She’ll never stop loving her, that’s something she’s certain of. After all, the brunette was her first, but if the Saltzman twin is already trying so hard to ignore her, then why not give her what she wants.
Tears pool around her water line, and Hope leans her head against the wall, refusing to let them spill. She’ll always care for Josie, and every bone in her body will never hesitate to protect the girl. One day, Hope will be able to let Josie go, but she just wishes she’ll be able to talk to her before that day comes. A small part of her still hopes that Josie will come back to her.
Hope is an idiot. She had one job, and that was to bring the escrima sticks for training with Rafael. They’re usually stored in the gym with the other training gear, but Hope snuck them up to practice in the privacy of her own room.
She runs to her room, easily reaching it without breaking a sweat. Once she grabs them, she rushes to leave, ready to return to Raf but accidentally slams into someone. Hope’s werewolf senses have really been off their game. Darting forward, she wraps a hand around their waist and steadies them. Chocolate brown eyes flit through her vision, and familiar vanilla and lavender lick at her nose.
Hope immediately pulls away, already yearning for more contact with Josie. “I, uh—” Hope stumbles over her words. “Sorry.”
Josie’s eyes widen minutely before narrowing. Usually gentle irises morph into contracted pupils, radiating hostility. All Hope can do is bite her tongue and look down, the harsh glare smouldering her insides, igniting a fire that burns deep in her abdomen and sears her organs with affliction.
Without another word, Josie shoves her shoulder and walks past her. All Hope can think about is how normal it felt to have her arms wrapped around the brunette’s torso, and suddenly, Hope forgets how to breathe. Choking on thin air while her throat feels entirely too raw.
She’s suddenly not in the mood to train with the other werewolf.
Hope is crying. It felt like an eternity since she’s last seen her aunt Rebekah, yet here she is, standing before her like a goddess walking among mortals. Tears stream down Hope’s face, her chest heaving as she bawls. Hope’s connection with her family has felt shattered for a while now, their promise of Always and Forever lost on her.
The tribrid sprints forward, jumping into the arms of her aunt and inhaling Chanel N°5. She cries into her shoulder while Rebekah soothingly caresses her head and whispers sweet nothings.
“Hope Andrea Mikaelson,” Rebekah says sharply, glaring playfully. “Have you forgotten about your dear Auntie Bex?”
Hope took a half step back, wiping away the salty tears from her face. “What? Of course not.”
“Could’ve fooled me, sweetheart.” Her aunt easily wipes away the rest of her tears. “172 calls, and I still haven’t gotten a single reply.”
Hope flounders. “Oh, uh— I may have broken my phone and forgotten about it…?” She laughs sheepishly, rubbing together sweaty palms. Her phone broke roughly two months ago after Josie blew up at her. The brunette called her controlling and manipulative, and Hope smashed her phone into a wall before stalking off, on the verge of a breakdown as the walls trembled under her flaring magic.
“And you’ve yet to fix it or get a new one why?” Rebekah asks, almost scolds with a raised eyebrow and narrowed blue eyes.
The auburn haired girl really doesn’t have an answer to that. Aunt Freya only called during emergencies, and her friends lived in the same building as her. She’s been just fine without one.
“I never got around to it.” Hope shrugs, acting nonchalantly.
Rebekah hums in reply, not believing her niece. “Very well. Shall I take you out for food? We can catch up and trash talk about the vampires in Paris.”
Hope giggles, immersing herself into the joyful and warm feeling she receives while being around her aunt. It’s been so long since she’s seen her aunt, and she missed her dearly.
-
They end up at a high end restaurant by the outskirts of Mystic Falls. Rebekah compelled the hostess into giving them a table despite not having prior reservation. Conversation between them is light and seamless like, talking about Marcel, the vampire community in France, Aunt Freya and Keelin, and Kol and Davina.
Then they slowly shifted topics to Hope and school and any potential lovers. “So… how are you and your secret lover?” Rebekah asks with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I know the last time we talked, you were helplessly in love but refused to tell me who the person was.”
Hope’s stomach drops, her mouth dry as she desperately gulps down water. Her skin is buzzing, and her heart is heavy, feeling like the organ doesn’t have enough blood pumping through it. “It’s a little complicated,” Hope chokes out, not knowing a better way to answer.
“Oh, pray tell,” her aunt prods with a knowing smirk, taking another bite of her lamb ragu.
“It’s just,” Hope sighs, mentally preparing to spill her guts while playing with her salad. “The person I was dating, they went through something traumatic and ended up shutting me out.”
Rebekah nods solemnly in understanding. “Then give them their space. When they work through their feelings, they’ll eventually come back to their senses and finally speak to you.”
“I hope so,” Hope grumbles, looking anywhere but at her aunt. Then she whispers the second part to herself, “She’s caused us enough pain already.”
With her enhanced hearing, Rebekah hears Hope’s whispers and a wave of empathy floods through her. “Darling, truly, what happened?”
Every wall Hope has built around her crumbles, breaking under the weight of her aunt’s pitying gaze. So Hope tells her everything—from when she first started connecting with Josie, to their first kiss, then on to their first date, and followed by their confessions of love. Hope’s breathing becomes erratic as she recounts the memories of their relationship spiraling.
When Josette Laughlin once more passed away, she tells Rebekah about the twins’ grief and how Josie began ignoring her and brushing off any attempts at physical touch. Then she briefly mentions the numerous insults Josie attacked her pride with. Rebekah appeared as if she wanted to murder someone by the end of it, most likely Josie herself, but Hope would never allow for that. She would fight her own aunt if it meant protecting Josie, which causes her thoughts to reel.
Has Hope’s feelings for Josie really surpassed that of her love for family? The Mikaelsons promise Always and Forever, and Hope never promised anything to Josie at all. The tribrid only gave the siphoner her heart, hoping that would be enough. Yet Hope finds herself ready to fight her family, the very people she would kill for, if they were to ever lay a hand on the Saltzman.
-
After a rather emotional lunch date with her aunt, Hope is left in her room, sitting in front of her easel and canvas. Rebekah craved for blood, briefly leaving in search of locals to feed on. So the auburn haired girl listens to her jazz music while delicately stroking paint and mixing colors.
It’s only a rough outline of the background so far, but with enough time, it will transform into poppy fields with her aunt Rebekah dancing fluidly in the middle. The idea dawned on her when the blonde Mikaelson was coaxing her to dance to a Lady Gaga song earlier that day. Hope felt ridiculous doing so, but it was liberating and such a carefree moment of bliss.
Hope accidentally smears blue across her aunt’s figure in the middle of the painting when the tribrid’s door is viciously smacked open. She whips around, ready to fight whoever was careless enough to not knock on her door.
Lizzie struts towards her, a worried expression creasing her normally soft features. “Josie’s missing, and my insides are literally burning from the inside out.”
Hope’s entire body tenses and bile rises up into her throat. “What? Go find Dr. Saltzman, and I’ll do a locator spell.”
The auburn haired girl is spiraling; questions and anxieties crash through her skull. Lizzie grasps her shoulder, forcing Hope to look into deep cerulean eyes. “My dad left when he found out Rebekah was feeding on locals, and I already did a locator spell. I just need backup, so let’s go.”
Backup? Hope Mikaelson, the tribrid freak, daughter of the Great Evil, a crescent wolf, is degraded to the title of backup. She remembers a time when she was the hero, saving everyone from imminent danger.
Hope realizes how truly insignificant she is after being crammed into the back seat of the Jeep Wrangler with all of her friends. MG drives, not trusting Lizzie to do so while she’s experiencing rather painful twin pain. She’s sandwiched in between Rafael and Kaleb who are speaking to each other as if she isn’t sitting in the middle of them. She briefly wonders why they didn’t sit next to each other in the first place.
The five of them are on their way to Blackbird, Delaware which should be roughly a four hour drive, but MG is racing across the highway, passing every car and switching swiftly between lanes. So Hope thinks they’ll be there in three hours instead.
Her wolf is snarling inside of her, threatening to break free because it wants to forget about the fear building up in her gut and simply wants to run free. Once she knows Josie is safe, she’ll be sure to transform into a wolf and have a release, but for now, she’ll recount every death spell she has ingrained in her memory. Kidnapping and torturing anyone Hope cares for will result in the death of the abductor.
Hope shouldn’t care as much as she does, but she can’t help it. Despite the months of degrading and shaming, she can never quite bring herself to hate the brunette. She knows Josie is grieving, lashing out because she’s yet to learn how to live with the trauma, so Hope continues to give her a pass, letting the Saltzman twin walk all over her in hopes that one day she’ll return to the tribrid.
By the time they’re driving through a thick forest in Delaware, Hope feels like knives are being grated against her skull. Unfortunately, bubbling anxiety and a car full of teenagers causes a raging headache, and Hope is just about ready to lash out in annoyance. Before she has the chance to though, Lizzie is telling MG to pull over, and in the distance, Hope can make out the outline of a stone church building.
Hope was born in a church. Her mom died in a church. They’re never a good sign.
The second the car stops, an ear piercing shriek reverberates through the area and chills Hope to the bone. Panicking, she flings open the passenger door with a flick of her wrist and leaps over Rafael, rushing towards the church building.
“Hope! You can’t just—” someone shouts out to her, but she shuts them out, focusing on the smell of blood and an elevated heart beat. Without conscious thought, she transforms into her wolf, ripping apart her clothes before running full force into wooden doors.
Josie is chained to a stake, streaked with crimson. There are numerous witches, a few chanting while most just watch her bleed. Snarling, Hope leaps at them and rips through their necks, jaw snapping through bones.
“It’s the Mikaelson freak! Kill it!” a witch screeches as they slam her into a wall, keeping her pressed against it with magic. Feral growls wrench through her throat as she helplessly watches as scarlet seeps through Josie’s clothes.
Lizzie, MG, Rafael, and Kaleb storm in a second later, hurtling the kidnappers across the room and knocking out others. “It’s another siphoner nutcase! Kill her!” another witch bellows.
When the witch trapping Hope is knocked out, she immediately returns to mauling them. It’s absolute carnage as she viciously tears through their ranks, and only three are left standing before a metal rod impales her stomach.
The pain forces her back into human form, and blood leaks from the edges around the metal. Pain spreads through her like a wildfire, searing at the point of entry. Crying out, Hope yanks the rod out of her abdomen and covers the gaping wound. Siphoning from MG, Lizzie recites a sleep spell and knocks out the last three witches.
She awkwardly limps towards Josie, praying to whatever deity that she’ll be okay. The tribrid is uncaring that she’s stark naked, only concerned for the brunette still chained to the stake. Rafael tosses his flannel at her, and she slips it on while she watches MG and Kaleb break the chains.
Josie’s limp body immediately falls forward—the sixteen year old barely conscious—and Hope is quick to catch her, groaning when her torso stretches uncomfortably and further bleeds out. Lizzie and Hope quickly heal her wounds, starting from the deeper more severe injuries and working through to the small bruises lingering on her skin.
Lizzie holds her sister in her lap, stroking her hair and holding her close. Hope can’t help it when she reaches for Josie’s hand, massaging her knuckles in the familiar way that she used to. By then, the brunette is drifting back to reality, becoming fully conscious and aware of her surroundings, and for once, she isn’t glaring at Hope. She looks grateful with a small smile on her lips.
Hope zones out for a few seconds, watching as Josie’s tongue delicately licks her pink lips. Although she immediately looks away from her when MG speaks up, “We should go before they wake up and try to attack once more.”
Hope’s gaze darts across the room and clenches her jaw. A part of her wants to kill the ones that were only knocked out. The entire coven should be punished for their atrocities. But for the first time in months, Hope is holding onto Josie, and she doesn’t want to let go. Regrettably though, she has to let go when Kaleb dips down to carry Josie to the car.
The seating arrangements change, and fortunately, they appease Hope’s wants. MG is driving with Kaleb riding shotgun, and Josie sits between Hope and Lizzie. Rafael lies in the trunk, comfortably taking a nap while they have to drive for another four hours. Even though Josie is curled up into Lizzie, she’s still close to Hope and isn’t trying to actively ignore her.
The radio is playing chill R&B music, and the atmosphere is comfortable and safe. It lasts all but a few minutes because suddenly, Lizzie’s phone is ringing obnoxiously, creating a throbbing in Hope’s skull.
“Shit! I can’t talk to him!” she freaks out, tossing the phone to MG who accidentally swerves the car roughly at the action. “He likes you more!”
MG quickly throws the phone to Kaleb, saying, “I’m driving!”
“Aw hell nah! He hates me.” He lobs the phone backwards at Hope.
“He’ll kill me,” Hope complains, shoving the phone towards the blonde.
Lizzie pushes it back towards the tribrid. “What do you mean? He loves you! The damaged and traumatized Hope Mikaelson can do no wrong.”
Hope rolls her eyes at that and answers the phone but drops it into Josie’s lap. The chocolate brown eyed girl gasps and glares at Hope before sweetly greeting, “Hi Dad.”
With a cheeky smirk, Hope teasingly winks at the siphoner. Josie shakes her head, but her features easily split into a grin. Hope’s insides flutter at the sight, missing Josie’s adorable smile.
Eavesdropping with her heightened hearing, Alaric frustratedly asks, “Are you even listening to me!”
“What? Sorry Dad,” Josie looks away, “We’ll be home soon. Don’t worry, Lizzie and I just went out for a bit.”
“Is it just you two? I can’t find Hope, MG, Kaleb, or Raf anywhere.” He questions, almost accusingly.
“Yeah, they’re with us too,” Josie blurts out and hangs up, “Okay, love you, bye!”
Hope chuckles, pain shooting up her abdomen as she joyfully shakes with laughter. It feels so natural to be around the brunette, and she missed her quirks and cute antics. Soon, Josie is laughing with her, and the rest of the teenagers glance at them like they’re going insane. When Josie accidentally snorts, Hope loses it completely, her chest heaving as she wheezes.
After sneaking to her room half naked, she’s met with her aunt Rebekah who looks entirely too displeased and exasperated. “It’s midnight, Hope. Midnight. Care to explain why you’re barely clothed and smell like blood.”
Hope unconsciously holds her abdomen, the wound only half healed. “I went for a run,” Hope says nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders.
“Mhm.” Rebekah narrows her eyes and crosses her arms further. “That doesn’t explain why you’re bleeding.”
“I got hit by a car…?” Hope replies indifferently and goes to her dresser, grabbing a hoodie and some shorts to sleep in.
“I’m not an idiot Hope!” Her aunt throws up her arms, obviously vexed. “I would know if a wolf was running willy nilly around Mystic Falls! Let alone if it was hit by a bloody car!”
The tribrid’s shoulders sag as she sighs and turns toward her aunt. “Fine, I was out on a rescue mission—”
“Hope!”
“—but everyone is okay! I’m okay.”
Aunt Rebekah takes a long exhale, calming down her rising anger. She reaches forward, pulling Hope into a tight embrace. “I’m glad you’re safe. It’s just… being a Mikaelson, you’re already considered a threat to many. The weight of your name bears so much pain and grief to others, but you’re a tribrid as well. Many will fear you, and many more will try to kill you for it.”
Of course Hope already knows all of this. Her mom and dad repeatedly cautioned her about the Mikaelson name, and they constantly reminded her of the hate hybrids received, perceiving them as abominations.
“I know Auntie Bex.” Hope nods against her neck.
“I love you, Hope.”
-
Returning from her shower, Hope finds Rebekah already buried under her covers, so she sneaks out of the room. She is desperately in need of something to eat. After bleeding out and only eating snacks for the past ten hours, she is in dire need of an actual meal.
Hope smells vanilla and lavender before she enters the kitchen. She hesitates, not knowing how Josie will react to her presence, but figures it’ll be okay. They were smiling and laughing with each other, so they’ll be okay.
Josie is sitting on a metal table, eating a sandwich and humming peacefully. She’s facing away from the entryway, so Hope doesn’t greet her and opens the fridge, reaching for leftover lasagna that was served during lunch. She kicks closed the fridge with her foot. Josie jumps off the table at the sound, whipping around with a hand held towards Hope, the other still holding her sandwich.
Hope raises the tray, saying, “Don’t hurt the lasagna.”
“Jesus, Hope!” Josie lowers her hand and glares at her. It feels like Josie is cutting her open and leaving her to dry with just her gaze alone. “You could’ve told me you were here!”
Hope shrugs, looking away from the brunette’s smouldering brown irises. She grabs a plate and a knife, ignoring the Saltzman twin while she cuts a large slice for herself. Josie’s breathing is harsh, grating against Hope’s ears as she microwaves her food.
Hope hears something fall and snaps her head towards Josie. Her eyes are closed, and her entire body is trembling as she stands in the middle of the kitchen. Focusing on her chemosignals, Hope inhales the scent of fear and… hopelessness? Hope almost laughs sardonically at the thought of that irony, but she doesn’t and returns her focus to Josie.
“Jo, are you okay?”
Hearing no response, Hope creeps closer to her, reaching for her right hand. She uncurls her fingers, and massages her knuckles. A tear slips down Josie’s cheek, then another and another. Her breathing eventually calms, and when she opens her eyes, they’re glazed over and are empty and devoid of emotion.
“You should’ve let me die.”
Hope’s entire body stills. Her stomach plummets. “What?”
Her eyes open, and they’re ablaze with sudden rage. Josie rips her hand from Hope and pushes against her chest, forcing Hope to take a step back. The siphoner’s voice is thick with fury when she chokes out, “You should’ve let me die!”
Hope inhales sharply, and magic thrums through her veins, begging to be released. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Hope snaps out.
Josie pushes against her chest again, but Hope doesn’t move an inch. Tears are still pooling in her eyes as Josie continually slaps Hope’s chest. “I don’t know why you couldn’t just leave me to die!”
She grabs Josie’s wrists, stopping her assault. “I have tried…” Hope breathes out, barely containing her temper. “I have tried to give you your space. You needed to heal, and I was giving you the space to do so. But— but—”
Hope releases her wrists and takes a step back. “God Josie! Saying I should’ve let you die? You haven’t spoken more than a sentence to me in the past month, and now this is the shit you say to me? No. No. You don’t get to do this.”
“You killed a dozen people in that church, Hope!” Josie points at her accusingly. “If you let me—”
“Let you what? Burn at the stake like it’s the freakin Salem Witch Trials?!” Hope throws her hands up, and the lights above spark and flicker.
“It would’ve been better than you massacring an entire witch coven!”
Hope is seconds away from breaking something. “I finally understand now,” Hope bites out, her tone bitter. “I’ll never be good enough for you.”
Josie clenches her jaw and looks away. Hope laughs mirthlessly and leaves, forgetting about her food. She feels like someone immersed her in lava—her entire world burning at the seams.