Lights Flicker And Fade : Kol Mikaelson [3]

214: In Hell of New Orleans

a/n: Remember to comment and vote,
Sorry for the wait and hope ya enjoy all the lil bits of info scattered through this chapter x
Bea <3

The knowledge that Levi was dead was only so comforting for the wolves.

The pack was practically kids, two hybrids, an alpha, then six or seven adults.

Standing around and lighting fires to try and mourn their dead.

Sam was there, leading the kids through the bodies, explaining the situation to the reminding twenty-seven Crescents who'd been wolves, but escaped the slaughter. Twenty-seven was a complicated number. In a way, it was a pretty big pack, but considering the size of the crescents when they'd fled, it was so tiny that MJ wanted to vomit.

She was there to make the funeral easier, Kol hid in the back, knowing his presence would be even more detested considering the Klaus hate being muttered in every corner.

MJ's arms lifted when the remaining adults pushed row after row of bodies into the water, fire sparking up.

Her usual trick.

They'd drift far enough away, then fold up into different forms. Mainly bugs, usually butterflies, and maybe the occasional baby bird, given the number. MJ didn't want to disrupt the ecosystem too much by just releasing an unknowable amount of butterflies into the swamp.

The spirits would be released and find peace, the bodies able to avoid the disgusting decomposing process to contribute something beautiful to the world around them.

MJ had also suggested that family members take a hair from their loved ones for her, setting up a mini garden in the centre of what used to be the tent. She took the hairs while people mourned, turning them into flowers, fruit, and vegetables. So their essence could return to the wild.

Sam didn't leave her side until she forced him to go home; too many yawns.

Hybrids weren't meant to look like they were going to pass out, and yet, there he stood.

Weak. Dehydrated.

Recently healed from a neck snap he didn't want to give her the context of.

And MJ wasn't going to ask.

Sam's features were filled with different layers of grief, and finding out how involved he was in the witch massacre wouldn't help. You didn't need to know the details to support someone. You just needed to be able to hug. To send them to bed.

Then, MJ and Kol.

He wasn't the shy type, loitering out of respect. Out of trying to make MJ's life easier as she messaged Serena about any empty apartments they could store people in for a few nights until the pack had time to rebuild.

By the time it was over, Mira Jung Floare-Ruiz was carried home from The Bayou, Kol Mikaelson making jokes while she was on his back, laughing along. He didn't waste much time, vampire speed available to both, picking to spend their last hour of rest that morning at her apartment.

Then, work.

A few morning meetings, updates to the next few weeks, a break for lunch, a marketing meeting in the afternoon going over recent submissions from their photographers. Returning to her apartment in the late afternoon, Pri and Kol on the couch, tossing the TV remote back and forth like a ball, snacks across every surface, the remains of blankets and pillows scrunched on the floor, Jeremy and Josh at the kitchen counter.

"God, it's so messy."

"You can't talk," Jeremy retorted, "Your old apartment was always a tip."

"It was only one room."