Bring Me To Life | The Originals (1)

Farewell to Storyville

"Hey, D, how you feelin'?" Marcel greeted the young witch solemnly as he walked into the attic bedroom with a duffel bag in his hands and Davina stared at the wall in front of her with vacant blue eyes as he wandered over to the table at the side of the room. "Got you some stuff-- organic soap, and scented candles, some incense... Just trying to help you get back to feeling, you know, yourself."

The former king turned around to look at her in concern when she didn't make a sound in response and his lips turned down at the corners in a frown as he scrutinised her blanched complexion, the dark circles underneath her almost lifeless blue eyes. He hesitantly started walking towards the bed as though he was approaching a wounded animal and she stiffened at his approach but otherwise didn't react as he stopped a few feet from the bed. "Word on the street is the witches are celebrating. Three out of the four girls sacrificed in the Harvest have come back. First, it was your friend, Monique, and then another girl, now you. What I hear, the others are saying that the ancestors were with them while they were, uh, dead. You know, talking to them, teaching them. They say they're stronger than ever. Was it like that for you?"

Tears built in Davina's eyes as she listened to him speak, letting his compassionate voice sooth her frayed emotions and she shook her head slightly as she turned her head to look at the closest thing she had to a father. The determined glint in his dark brown eyes was familiar, it was the same look he got when she asked to use his credit card to buy art supplies online and she knew that he wasn't going to give up until she opened up a little bit. She took a deep breath in preparation as she meet his gaze evenly and she tried to keep her tears at bay as her voice cracked slightly with emotion when she admitted, "There was nothing. It was cold, empty, and dark. And it went on forever."

Marcel felt his heart ache painfully at the torment in her voice, the grief in her normally vibrant blue eyes as she stared up at him and it killed him that he wasn't able to protect her from going through that. He slowly approached the edge of the bed with a frown on his lips and he sat down next to her as he reached out with one hand to sooth her tangled brunette hair lovingly, "I'm sorry, D."

"I don't want to talk about it. Please, Marcel, don't make me."

"Hey, hey, no one's going to make you do anything, alright? Promise."

A strangled sob escaped Davina's lips as the tears building in her eyes overflowed, trickling down her cheeks unapologetically and Marcel immediately wrapped his arms around her shaking figure as he pulled her into lean her head on his muscular chest. Her fingers curled tightly in the material of his shirt as she buried her face in the crook of his neck and he closed his eyes momentarily as he gently rocked her back and forth, murmuring nonsense in her ear as he squeezed her tighter against his chest. He could feel her sobs vibrating through his body as he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and she burrowed herself deeper into his embrace, feeling safe for the first time since she woke up on the ancestral plane.

The faint sound of footsteps down below caught Marcel's attention as he lifted his head, his forehead furrowing at the prospect of a threat coming for Davina and he shifted her protectively in his arms as he narrowed his eyes in the direction of the attic door. His advanced hearing was able to detect the course of the person in the church below as they made their way towards the stairs leading to the attic bedroom. The scent of vanilla mixed with the familiar fragrance he associated with Imogen wafted through the room and he instantly relaxed with a sigh escaping him as the footsteps got closer to the open attic door.

Imogen paused in the doorway to the improvised bedroom, her breaths coming out in short pants as her gaze wildly swept over the room until landing on the large bed to the back of the room. Her blue eyes were ablaze with frantic apprehension as they locked on the familiar teenage girl clinging to Marcel as though she would float away if she unclenched her hands from his shirt for even a second. An audible exhale of relief escaped her as she stumbled backwards slightly, reaching one hand out to balance against the doorframe and she gingerly grazed her trembling lower lip with her fingertips as tears welled in her eyes.