Back to Me

Lacing Grief

The Necromancer escaped. After Hope dove into Malivore, he vanished into a cloud of smoke before anybody could get to him.

Sunlight started to pour in soon afterward. It seemed awfully ironic to Josie -- a day as beautiful as this one, warm and inviting. And yet there was turmoil inside her, like a dam of sorrow bordering on collapse. They lost their best defender. They lost their friend.

They lost Hope.

For the first time, she lifted her gaze to the golem frozen as rock. Its face (if it could be called that) sculpted in eternal rage, reaching into something inside it that it will never grasp.

The court was silent save for the groans of injured students. Nobody dared move, as if the golem would come back to life and finish its mission. That's what they told themselves; a disguise to mask the grief lacing them all together.

Josie lifted her chin for the first time. A tear escaped her eye, creating a wet path down her cheek. She forced her limp arms into motion, extending her right hand towards the statue. She heard Lizzie's sharp breath intake and hesitated before touching it. What was she looking for? A sign Hope was alive? A body to bury? Her fingers grazed the cold stone. It was just that -- stone.

Her heart deflated, and she let herself fall to her knees. Her sobs slowly filled the eerie silence. Lizzie was quickly at her side, providing warmth to her sister in a tight hug.

A pebble hit Josie on her forehead, pulling her attention back up to the statue. A fissure grew on Malivore's face. Splintering sounds webbed its way down, the fissure spreading like vines until it completely enveloped the golem.

Everybody held their breath.

The statue came crashing down. Debris lifted a puff of dust, making Josie cough and back away. Her eyes scanned the area and there, amid the rubble, was the limp body of Hope Mikaelson.

Josie scrambled to her. Once she could get a better view of her body, she let out a whimper. She had never seen so much blood. Hope's maroon shirt did nothing to hide the bloody wound drilling into her chest. Her eyes coated with a glassy sheen. But her lips curled in a small smile as if dying was what she had wanted all along. She looked . . . at peace.

Josie's hands wanted to reach out, to touch her, to feel her skin one more time, and hold her close to her. Reassure her that everything was going to be fine like Hope had when Dark Josie took over. But she didn't know how.

Her father made his way to the rubble. His breath was ragged, and although he held wounds of his own, he scooped Hope's body in his arms. If he tried hard enough, he could imagine that she was sleeping. He held her close to his chest, like a father hugging his daughter. He looked around to meet the painful eyes of his students before settling on Josie's.

Her brown eyes that he loved because they held everything that was good. You could look into them and convince yourself that everything was alright in the world. Those eyes now held a storm. A storm of regret with a thunder of anguish.

Alaric gave her an almost imperceptible nod. That was the only comfort he could offer her now. He turned towards the school and started walking to the doors. Students followed at a distance; a procession of grief for a fallen hero.

With every step, grief clutched at Alaric's heart. With every step, holding Hope became harder. He was the headmaster, he was supposed to keep students safe. Hope was his student, a daughter to him. And he failed her. Tears pooled at the corners of his eyes and he let them fall.

He reached the girl's room and set her down on her bed. Her friends observed from the doorway, almost afraid that they would overstep by entering her room. Alaric moved a strand of hair away from her face. He knew he had to call the Mikaelsons. He knew he had to get Elena's blood. He knew he had to think about what he was going to say to Hope once she woke up. But he didn't know if he had the strength to do it.

Steeling himself, he turned to MG, "There is a vault in my office behind the bookcase. Bring me one of the blood bags".

MG nodded and walked down the hallway. Alaric pulled out his phone as he walked past the teenagers, "I have a few calls to make", he said without making eye contact with anyone.

Josie looked back to Hope -- her shirt and chest bathed in dark blood.

"I can't stand seeing her like this"

She crossed the room to the bathroom and pulled out a cloth. She dunked it in warm water and made her way back to Hope. Lightly, she started tapping away the blood on her skin.

Lizzie grabbed a second cloth and sat on Hope's other side. She met Josie's eyes in an attempt to let her know she wasn't alone in this and she, too, cleaned the dirt on Hope's face.

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Josie can't sleep. After cleaning Hope to the best of her abilities, she sat outside her room to give her privacy. Only her father was inside now. She knew Hope would come back, she had always known. But seeing her cold on the ground, without the loving glint in her eyes that she tried so hard to hide, slit her heart open.

The rest of her friends also waited alongside her -- they fell victim to fatigue not long ago and slept soundly next to each other. Josie toyed with the pendant Hope gave her on her 16th birthday. It offered her a small branch of comfort. She was willing to accept anything to keep herself from bursting through the door and enveloping Hope in a hug.

Josie's ears perked at the sound coming from the room--

Voices.

They are muffled, but Josie quickly stands up and nears the door. She stops herself. She shouldn't eavesdrop. She will get to talk to Hope; she just wished she could be there for her now like she was for her when black magic threatened to swallow her whole.

So she stands in front of the door. Close enough to ease her nerves, but far enough that the voices remain muffled.

After what felt like an eternity, her father opened the door. Josie takes in a sharp breath. He doesn't make way for her to pass, and Josie fears for a second that he won't let her see Hope. But then another voice comes from the room.

"Let her pass".