The Cure - #JustWriteIt ✔

Preparing for Her Arrival

A few days had gone by, and I was fading. My eyes were shut almost all the time. My hands and knees were weak. I had to walk with the help of Rebekah and Hayley, and sometimes Klaus.

Everyone was on edge waiting and hanging on to every second for this witch. Hell, I was even getting angry. Klaus was frustrated and every time he'd sit up thinking I had faded to sleep, he'd cry and beg for the curse to attach itself to him because there was no way he could allow me to suffer this way.

It hurt me like it hurt me. Freya's words replayed over and over in my head. I was all Klaus had to help him change, to help him see the good he had inside of him, the good he could place in everyone's lives. If I died? If this witch was nothing but a scam? Hope would suffer, everyone would suffer once more and it would be my fault.

I had to be strong for the two of us. I could hold on for a few more days, I really could.

Hayley had been sending messages to people. Everyone was preparing for my goodbye. Everyone was almost too ready for it and it hurt. Weren't they skeptical? Weren't they worried that this may not work - that I'll be gone forever?

Obviously not. But I understood. They loved me, they were my family. If anything they just wanted my pain and suffering to end.

I was sitting on my bed, my eyes focused on the painting Klaus was making. Freya had been working on a spell to send myself and Klaus off to this perfect world until I was long gone and perhaps waiting to be brought back. It'd start tonight, and I guess that's what had Klaus so inspired.

I pushed a smile on my face, "You look so intense, don't break the brush," I teased him seeing that adorable grin of his which always made my heart skip a lousy beat, "What is it supposed to me?"

He turned around and he chuckled, "You're the psychologist, how about you tell me what you're feeling - well, what you think it is, love."

I took a good look at it. There was a beautiful mix of bright and dark shadows. Little bulbs of lights leading the way for both kinds of shadows. I tilted my head, "The dark shadows represent the dark side to life, the bright shadows are the light side to life, and those bulbs of light is you trying to lead both sides somewhere. You want to have them both in life in order to live - using the two of them for whatever it is you're facing..."

I looked at Klaus and I swallowed, "Which ones are you leading right now?" my smile slowly faded, but it tried to stay for as long as it could.

"Both," he said. His dirtied fingers set down the brush on the clothed table, "You see, I am feeling a lot of anger. A lot of pain and angst. I feel like I've betrayed everything I've done - but then, I feel all this love inside of me. Like I've got purpose, Cami. I've got this purpose within me that allows me to believe that what I am doing is good, even if the way to come about it is nasty."

I felt my lips tremble and I could only hover my lips, "Is that how you really feel?" I choked back a few tears.

"Yes. Yes it is, Cami. I have to take all the bad with the good," he turned to look at his painting, "I see it as a combination of our sides - the good and the bad, and how life's lead us to become one."

I smiled a bit, "You're right. Another good way to look at it, Dr.Mikaelson," I chuckled.

Klaus had a charming way about him. Perhaps it was the old chilvary that had come to the surface disguised in mischief and wit. Or maybe it was the attitude he had about ladies, and everything they did that made him so charming. I couldn't really put a thumb on it. But I guess this bad boy that I fell for had it all.

"Come here," I patted the seat next to me, "Why don't you read me another one of your poems?"

Klaus looked at me with a surprised smile, "Oh, so you wish to have my velvety voice echo beautiful, soulful words into your ear, love?"

I giggled and nodded, "When you put it that way? You can even quote Aristotle."

"Well, consider that a deal," he winked.

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It was in her sleep that she saw it. She felt her heart slow down its beat, she felt her breath become short and shallow. Her eyes widened and she gasped for breath while her throat grabbed her throat. Her brain showed her them, showed her Camille.

"I must go. I must go and help them."

Of course the next day she was not so proud of herself. Helping a Mikaelson was like siding with the enemy but it was an innocent girl who had crossed troubling waters that needed her help. After a quick cup of coffee, and a shower, Lucinda was on her way to New Orleans - her old home.

It did feel nice, but she knew she was on a tight schedule. This girl had no time to live, and she was in no mood to have any sort of word exchange with any of the Mikaelsons - especially Elijah.

She held no hate in her heart but that man was the only thing she could hate with every fiber of her human body. A lover that had once taken her heart, promised to keep it and save it from any harm, only to turn around and break it.

It was that witch - Celeste. The french whore she despised, the french whore whom he left her for. She died soon after but Lucinda was long gone. She only heard the news a few days upon arrival. She tried to seek Elijah, hoping their shot would still stand but she had a quick run-in with his siblings who obviously did the gentle act of defending their eldest brother from her, and send her back with many threats.

Now look at how the tables turned. They needed her now.

But she wouldn't dare think of doing it for any of them, except the poor dying girl who needed her help and nothing more.

Her blue eyes looked around as she arrived the Mikaelson home. How different. She was expecting the large home, the horns to sing and the gates to open. She huffed a laugh seeing the white home now - how humanistic of them. So humble.

She parked her car and she stepped outside. Her dark shades were lifted to pull her dark curly hair back, "Home sweet home," she pronounced as she took a few steps towards the entrance door.

The flowers, and the beautiful windows what a contradiction to the sorrow, pain and suffering she could feel coming from the inside. It was all so strong that it made her sick. She brought her fist up to knock a few times on the door. She waited and then knocked a few more times.

She took a few steps back when a brunette swung the door open holding a little girl in her arms, "Yes? Can I help you?" she asked.

Lucinda smirked, "Question here is, how can I help you?" she grinned, "I believe you've been told about the famous witch who's here to help your friend?"

The brunette's face changed completely, "Um, one sec" she excused herself and rushed back inside. Lucinda shrugged her shoulders and stepped inside, "Leave it. They don't need any confirmation, by now? They already know." her blue eyes shined with wit and then anger the moment they fell on Elijah and the protective image he set the moment he stood near the brunette and her child.

A fire pooled deep within her, "Elijah."

"Lucinda."

"Nice to see you," she smirked, "So, where's my patient? What? Don't act like you've seen a ghost - compared to all of you? I'm still alive, so how about we save introductions and do what we're supposed to do."

"I'll get Klaus," the brunette offered.

"You're not going anywhere," Rebekah threatened.

"Your choice, if your friend dies? I won't be able to bring her back on time if you don't help me."

"Let her go, Elijah," another blonde hissed.

Elijah looked at her with an exasperated glare, "Upstairs, she's upstairs. You know what to do, don't you?"

"I always did."