r.i.p to my youth <<>> mercy mikaelson

twelve

She shook those thoughts away, focusing on Jordyn, who was bustling with excitement. The woman was obviously trying to lighten the tense atmosphere, and Mercy smiled slightly; Jordyn always knew what to do, and she was currently pulling her father in to a number of selfies. Mercy was surprised that Klaus allowed her to photograph him, but it shouldn't have been that big of a shock. Her father usually let Jordyn get her way with anything.

Jordyn was taking pictures of the city as they reached the hotel that they would be staying at. All four of them knew the risks of Klaus even being in the city, so it was out of the question to think of returning to the Abattoir, where Hope was currently residing. Mercy clenched her jaw, already able to notice the drastic differences in her father's mood and movements. She could've chalked it up to Tokala being with them, but she knew the Hollow when she saw it. Being this close to Hope after so long was affecting him, and Mercy could tell that he was trying his best to keep the Hollow at bay from his mind.

Mercy dropped her bags in her room, connected to her father's through a living and recreational space. Tokala's room was down the hall—she didn't deny the fact that Klaus was still trying to keep him as far away from her as possible. But she didn't mind the separation, because honestly, she couldn't handle the situation with her mother at the same time as figuring out what Tokala meant to her. It was all too confusing, and she needed some silence to gather her thoughts together. Alone. It was the only way she would know what to do, because it was the only way she knew how to deal with everything that happened to her as a child. Jordyn had been right before; Mercy was a lone wolf when it came to confronting her demons, a trait that she had subconsciously picked up from her father.

Even with the silence granted to her, she was on edge, not being able to think clearly without remembering where she was, what she had run away from. The memories threatened to overwhelm her and she prayed that they would find Hayley as quickly as possible. She didn't think she could stay in this city for much longer than was absolutely necessary. She was already falling apart and it hadn't even been an hour.

"Mercy," a voice shook her from her stupor, and she turned away from the delicately made bed to face her father. He stood alone, and Mercy extended her hearing to figure out that Jordyn had jumped in the shower. Focusing on Klaus again, she noticed the hand he held outstretched to her, and her heart jumped to her throat. "Are you ready?"

He had already explained it to her on the way. He needed to talk to Freya, and the only way to do that was to visit her old home. She argued with him about it on the way to the airport back in California, but he was adamant that Freya would know all the needed details about Hayley's disappearance. We need to start somewhere, he had said, and she was furious to know that he was right.

She couldn't even remember the last time she saw her Aunt Freya, and she was more than frightened to see the woman after all these years. Would her childish fears come true? Would they turn from her, knowing that she was something much more different than they had last seen her as?

You won't know until you do it, a voice whispered in the back of her head, strangely sounding like Tokala. He would say something like that, just to challenge her into doing it. Still, she hesitated.

"What if she's there," Mercy's voice was quiet, small, so familiar to how she sounded when she was seven years old that she could see her father's stance visibly soften. She didn't need to elaborate; they both knew who she was talking about.

Klaus paused, looking unsure what to say. "Well..." His voice grew quieter as well, a vulnerability coating his voice that always appeared when he talked about family. "We'll just have to cross that bridge when we get to it."