"Mom, we'll only be gone for two weeks at most," Alistair stated with a touch of exasperation, trying to reassure her. His father was at the kitchen table, an amused smirk on his face as he took a sip of his morning coffee. Upstairs, Michelle was engrossed finishing her packing.
Esther emerged from the kitchen, carrying five Tupperware containers filled with different foods for their journey. "I know, I know, sorry," she replied apologetically, but still clearly tense. Alistair chuckled softly and made his way upstairs.
Knocking gently on Michelle's bedroom door, he peeked his head inside, observing her mild panic as she attempted to pack six suitcases. "You do realize we'll only be there for like two weeks, right?" he remarked.
Letting out an exasperated sigh, Michelle turned to face him, her expression blended with frustration. "I know, but how can I know how much luggage is too much luggage?"
With a deadpan expression, Alistair said, "I'm taking two medium suitcases, lunatic."
Rolling her eyes in response, the girl retorted, "You wear like three different outfits in the same boring tones, you wouldn't understand."
Sighing, he said, "I know you want to make an impression, but you have fifteen minutes to make it three suitcases at most." He didn't wait for an answer, going to his and Isaac's shared room.
(...)
Upon arriving, Isaac was helping him take his suitcases out, said, "So, two weeks, right?" he inquired, a hint of curiosity and doubt lacing his voice. Alistair nodded and hummed in affirmation, taking hold of one of the suitcases and leading the way down the stairs, with Isaac trailing close behind.
Alistair replied, "Honestly, I really doubt Beacon Hills will give us two weeks off." He paused, placing the suitcases by the front door, his gaze meeting Isaac's. Noticing a slight grimace on Isaac's face, he raised an eyebrow inquisitively, sensing something amiss.
Isaac let out a deep sigh. "It's just..." Isaac began, pausing to scratch the bridge of his nose, his words tinged with a hint of longing and something else. "I wanted to go with you, but..." He trailed off, his expression reflecting a sense of disappointment.
Understanding dawned on Alistair, he laughed, and placed his hands reassuringly on Isaac's shoulders. "It's okay, don't bother your pretty little head with that."
Isaac mustered a sad smile, his gaze filled with a mixture of emotions. He pulled Alistair into a tight embrace, their heads coming to rest against each other. Alistair reciprocated, wrapping his arms securely around Isaac's torso. But this hug felt different from their usual ones. It lacked the usual serenity it normally brought, the longing that emitted from Isaac or the tenderness in his touch. Instead, it felt tinged with sorrow and a hint of desperation, as if Isaac feared Alistair would vanish. It didn't feel like a typical 'I'll see you later' hug; rather, it screamed 'goodbye' in a desperate and heart-wrenching manner, leaving Alistair with a heavy weight on his chest as he held Isaac tighter.
As they pulled apart, Alistair was about to voice his questions when Isaac unexpectedly leaned in and kissed him. Yet, again, this kiss wasn't warm, at least not in the way their kisses were. It also held a sadness and a hint of frustration, it was rough, not the kind of rough that comes with passion, but the kind that felt like he was desperate to merge his lips with Alistair's, maybe in an attempt to never letting him go.
Before Alistair could react or inquire further, Isaac cut him off again, his hands gently cupping Alistair's cheeks as he gazed into his eyes with intense emotions. "I love you," he declared, his words laden with sincerity and confusing melancholy. Without giving Alistair a chance to respond, Isaac opened the door and departed.
Left standing at the doorway, the Keeper felt a heaviness in his chest, his suitcases forgotten on the floor. The weight of the confusing exchange lingered as John approached to bid his goodbyes.
Soon, Alistair and Michelle joined their parents in the car, making their way to the San Francisco International Airport with destiny to Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport.
(...)
The journey to San Francisco passed by faster than expected. Their mother cried while they were being called to board the plane. Before they embarked on the plane, David was very clear to Alistair, letting him know, Michelle was now his responsibility, something the teenager has understood the last four years.
Settling into their seats, side by side, "So, how do you feel about meeting your exact copy?" Alistair inquired with a playful tone, hoping to alleviate any nerves his sister was experiencing.
Michelle chuckled softly, her fingers fidgeting nervously. Observing her unease, Alistair extended his hand, gently covering hers. A warm smile graced Michelle's lips as their hands intertwined. "Well, I don't know how one can ever truly be ready for that," she admitted, her words laced with a hint of anticipation. Her gaze met Alistair's, she questioned, "Do you think there's a chance we're related?"
Alistair took a moment to contemplate the question. "I think so," he responded, his voice gentle. "Why?"
He saw a frown forming on Michelle's face. "Even if we are related, it won't change a thing."
Alistair smiled, "You know that's not true." He sighed, "If you're related to them, that'll change everything you thought of your past." When she was about to protest, Alistair cut her off, "It doesn't mean it'll change how you or any of us fells. We'll never leave you." His words carried a comforting reassurance. A hint of moisture glistened in the girl's eyes. Overwhelmed by emotion, Michelle leaned her head against Alistair's shoulder, finding solace and security in his presence, eventually drifting into a peaceful sleep.
(...)
Stepping out of the bustling airport, their luggage in tow, Alistair assumed a protective stance, instructing Michelle to remain behind him until he signaled otherwise. The girl nodded, positioning herself. As his gaze swept across the surroundings, he couldn't help but be notice a specific spot. Two men stood there, everyone around them avoided getting too close, clearly somehow sensing the power emanating from them. As they walked towards them, Alistair took in their appearances.
They were about the same height, and, in their own ways, they were incredibly handsome and haunting, their hairs were also short, but that's where their similarities ended.
The first man had curly and short dirty blond hair. Though he appeared lean, Alistair could tell there were muscles under his clothing. Alistair's eyes traced the lines of his face, noting the aristocratic features that spoke of his past—high cheekbones, and captivating dark blue eyes. Even though he was wearing casual clothing, boots, black pants, a t-shirt, and a leather jacket, he still managed to exude an effortless charm.
In contrast, the second man had dark brown hair, with a slightly more robust physique than his counterpart. His beautiful hazel eyes held a depth that drew attention, and his angular facial structure boasted high cheekbones and a squared jaw. He was dressed in a tailored suit that accentuated his refined appearance, he exuded a sense of maturity and sophistication. It was their auras, however, that unquestionably hinted at their familial connection.
As Alistair scrutinized the captivating strangers, his gaze met theirs, and a soft smirk appeared on their lips. Tilting their heads slightly to the side, synchronized, they seemed to study him intently.
With measured, but cautious and confident steps, Alistair started to make his way towards them, feeling Michelle griping the back of his jacket.
Within earshot, the dark-haired man took a step forward, a soft smile adorning his face as he locked eyes with Alistair. Extending his right hand, he spoke in a voice that held a captivating sophistication, "It's always a pleasure to meet with Keepers." And boy, that voice there, hell, Klaus' voice was something else, but this one here had something else. Alistair was momentarily speechless by the refined tone, each syllable perfectly enunciated. Unlike Klaus' distinct voice, this man's voice possessed an additional layer of sophistication that sent a flutter of something deep within Alistair.
Taking the offered hand, Alistair reciprocated the firm yet gentle pressure. Nodding respectfully, he managed to say, "Alistair."
The man returned the nod gracefully. "Elijah, the pleasure is mine."
A soft chuckle escaped Alistair's lips. "I see the rumors about your charm aren't false." The man before him joined in the laughter, and Alistair turned his gaze to the other figure standing alongside them. "Niklaus, I presume?"
With a wide smile, Niklaus took a step forward, extending his hand. "It's a pleasure, love." His gaze momentarily shifted past Alistair, acknowledging Michelle's presence. "I believe introductions are in order, don't you think?"
Maintaining eye contact with Niklaus, Alistair nodded. "I believe you are quite right." He motioned for Michelle to step forward, his protective instincts evident when he added, "Just for the record, this is my sister. If either of you pose any kind of threat to her, I won't hesitate to act." Behind him, Michelle scoffed, prompting an eye roll from Alistair. "Not that she can't protect herself, but anyway."
Stepping aside, Alistair allowed Michelle to come into full view. "This is Michelle." As Michelle looked at the two men, raising her opened hand slightly in greeting, a sense of astonishment washed over their faces. Their eyes widened, their mouths slightly ajar. Yet, Alistair noticed something distinct in Niklaus' expression. The man said a very soft, "Faith." His expression was a mixture of fascination and pure wonder, reminiscing to a child discovering the world for the first time. The man even gulped audibly a few times before regaining his composure.
Approaching Michelle, Niklaus extended his hands towards her. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he uttered sincerely, his voice stripped of any previous allure. Alistair was taken aback by the genuine and wholehearted tone in his words. Klaus spent several minutes examining every inch of Michelle's face, Alistair guessed the man was collecting every similarity with his own daughter.
After an also warm greeting, Elijah gestured towards the exit with a sweep of his arm. "I believe we have a destination to reach. Our family is quite excited to meet you." Everyone agreed, and they made their way towards an elegant car that awaited them, with destiny to the French Quarter of New Orleans.
(...)
After thirty minutes of ride, they arrived at a place the brothers referred to as "The Compound," a gigantic mansion located in the heart of the French Quarter. Alistair knew beforehand that New Orleans was quite the soul of the party, but damn, there was a freaking long parade, with beautiful jazz music everywhere they turned.
Upon entering the majestic door of the compound, a strong male voice resonated with a thick accent, laced with sarcasm and a hint of childish playfulness. "Nik! Will you tell us about these mysterious guests? I'm dying of boredom. Who..." The voice trailed off as the newcomers came into view, and the sarcastic frown on the man's face transformed into what could only be described as a seductive smirk directed at Alistair. "Well, hello there." In an instant, using his vampire speed, the man stood before Alistair, taking the boy's hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. "Who do I owe the pleasure to?"
Alistair raised an eyebrow and chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "The name's Alistair. And who might you be?"
With a charming big smile, the man responded, "Kol. Kol Mikaelson. I wonder, why are you Nik's mysterious guest?" While the man turned towards Niklaus for an answer, Alistair used that moment to scan the room and took notice of the three breathtakingly gorgeous women present, just as hauntingly beautiful as the males, two blondes and one with brown hair who bore a striking resemblance to Michelle; that made him frown a little.
Looking back at Kol, Alistair replied, "In fact, it's not me." The raised brows prompted Alistair to turn and walk toward Michelle, hidden from view. He took her hand, showing his support, before returning to the center of the room. Once everyone's attention was focused, he announced, "This is my sister, Michelle." Alistair witnessed how the easiness in everyone evaporated in an instant. The room fell into a state of confusion as wide eyes and open mouths exchanged perplexed glances. The atmosphere became tense, and the anticipation was palpable.
The brown-haired woman began to approach them, seemingly unaware of it. When she stood before them, her hands instinctively cupped Michelle's cheeks. "Faith?" Michelle's eyes widened in confusion at the name, but she remained motionless, caught in some kind of trance, scrutinizing every inch of the woman's face, as if she was trying to solve a puzzle in her mind.
However, the trance was abruptly broken when a very familiar voice cut through the air. It was Michelle's voice, but it didn't emanate from her own lips. "Guys, what's all this about? I'm..." Her voice trailed off as she took in Michelle's presence. The two girls locked their wide opened eyes and began to approach one another, driven by some kind of calling only they heard. The anxiety in the room heightened as they neared each other, their every mirrored the other's. When they met in the middle of the room, they continued their scrutiny, and, without tearing their eyes apart, their hands rose to touch each other's faces. At the contact, a powerful surge of energy emanated from them in the form of a wave, causing the room to tremble. The vampires remained composed, but Alistair, caught off guard, stumbled, only to be steadied by Kol's firm grip on his arm. A grateful smile passed between them.
As both girls opened their eyes wide, the trance dissipated, and they gasped in unison. "Oh, my God." To everyone's surprise, smiles adorned their faces, and laughter bubbled forth from them. They looked into each other's eyes, and in perfect synchronization, they said, "It's you." Then, with a breathy laugh, Hope grabbed Michelle's wrist and turned to address the room, now in control of her own voice. "We'll be down for dinner." With that, they departed for God knows where, leaving the onlookers puzzled.
After the girls left, all eyes turned to Alistair. One of his hands rested on his waist, while the other scratched the top of his head, conveying his confusion and uncertainty. "Can I take a seat?" he asked, his voice filled with a mix of emotions.
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－ ２４２７ ｗｏｒｄｓ －
Author's note
Ok, so, a few things just for the record:
1. Hayley never died.
2. The Hollow was defeated, but Klaus and Elijah didn't die.
3. Hope already triggered her curse, so this would be close to the end of The Originals.
4. As David's (my oc) actor plays Jackson in The Originals, Jackson will never be mentioned.
Now, as you could see, this chapter ended up being a little bit long, so I cut in two :)
What do you guys think so far? 👀
Comments, votes and follows are always appreciated.
- 𝒿. 𝒻. 𝒸. 🐼💜