Chapter 71

If Beatrix were still as temperamental as she used to be, she would have strangled Hope.

She awoke on the floor of St. Anne's Church. Around her, people were moving. The first was Kol. Then Rebekah. Marcel. Klaus and Elijah. She sat up, and watched as Elijah began to sob. Confused, she looked down at herself. There were no blackened veins on her arms.

Hope hadn't put The Hollow into her.

"Beatrix," said Marcel, coming to her side. "You alright?"

"She lied to me," whispered The Heretic. "I-I thought..."

"I know..."

He helped her to her feet and she brushed off her clothes. Kol cast her a look and waved before leaving. Rebekah glanced at Marcel before taking her leave as well. Klaus seemed to want to console Elijah, but he couldn't find the words. Marcel aided Beatrix in standing straight until she moved past him and went to kneel beside Elijah as he desperately grasped onto one of the pews, trying to breathe.

"N-No," he gasped when he saw her. "I-Itza, no..."

"Shh..." she caressed his back. "It's okay. I'm here."

"I-I don't... I don't d-deserve..."

"Yes you do. Everyone deserves comfort, Elijah."

"N-Not me..."

She cupped his face in her hands, her thumbs caressing over his cheeks. "Elijah, listen to me. There is a lot I would love to be angry about. A lot I could blame you for. I could hate you and I wouldn't bat an eye. But that's not how this is meant to go. This wasn't your fault, Elijah. After all these years, I have learned to be more open minded. To be patient. I... I get it. You wanted the pain to go away and I can't judge you for that. I did the exact same thing when I turned my humanity off. I killed my sister and so many other innocent people. I did that consciously, and all of you forgave me for it. So don't torment yourself for what you did when you didn't remember. This... is going to fucking suck. You're going to struggle to cope and that's normal. Hope will not forgive as easily. But even she will understand that this wasn't your doing. It was another version of you. One that didn't love as deeply as the real you. The real Elijah. I forgive you, Elijah. And you deserve to have any comfort that you need."

Shaking, he started to sob again, and she pulled him into a tight hug, caressing his back and closing her eyes as he grasped onto her like he was afraid that she was an illusion. That the real her wouldn't be so forgiving.

But she had changed. She understood others and their pains. She knew how to let go. How to look for better and tell who is trying to be better. And she knew that no matter what, deep down, this was not Elijah's fault in the slightest.

"I-I destroyed her," he gasped. "I destroyed H-Hayley. I tore a mother f-from a child. I b-brought harm to her. I s-swore I would always protect her..."

It was clear that Elijah would not be so quick to absolve himself from blame.

They returned to the Compound and he locked himself in his room immediately.

Hope was waiting in Beatrix's room. "Aunt Trix," she said shakily, looking drowsy but otherwise fine. "I-I know what you're going to say."

But the Heretic said nothing. She went straight to the girl and hugged her tightly, beginning to cry.

"Why?" she whimpered, rubbing her niece's back. "You— you've seen how it's hurt me. It hurt you so long ago. Why... why would you do this to yourself? My sweet girl, the last thing I w-wanted was for you to be harmed."

"I can handle it, Aunt Trix," said Hope gently, hugging her back. "I promise."

Hope had tried to act as though everything was fine, even though it most certainly was not.

"The curse that plagued our family for seven years has taken its toll on all of us," said Klaus at breakfast, which was composed of a marvelous feast cooked by the finest chefs in the French Quarter. "On our city. On our home. On our family. The consequences of us being together were grave, but today, thanks to you, we celebrate a new beginning. One in which we have the freedom to stand side by side. And whatever trials may come, we will face them together, as a family. Always and forever."

Hope smiled at him. "Would you please pass the beignets?"

Freya smiled at her from across the table. "Of course." She handed the tray over to where Hope and Beatrix were sitting.

At the head of the table, Klaus leaned back in his chair. "So, Rebekah will be back in a few days. She's just tying up some loose ends overseas."

"It'll be nice to have her here," said Hope.

"It'll be good to have all of us under one roof again," Freya added.

They turned at the sound of footsteps. Elijah walked through the doorway, and Beatrix felt Hope tense beside her. "Good morning," said Elijah. "Obviously, there is a lot for us to discuss. Hope, let me begin by telling you how truly sorry—"

She didn't let him finish. "Thanks for breakfast, guys, but I have homework to catch up on."

She brushed past Elijah, and Beatrix turned to see that in her anger, the young witch had bent a fork. Klaus caught a glimpse of it and his jaw tightened. "That's not normal. She's not normal."

Elijah sighed and sat down. "She lost her mother, Niklaus. I shouldn't have come down here."

"At least you can claim amnesia," said Klaus, "unlike our sister, who willingly aided a child in ruining her life even though there was an alternative."

"Hope is not a child," said Freya sharply.

Klaus scoffed. "Did you even consider what absorbing all that magic could do to her? Have we not watched it repeatedly try to kill Beatrix?"

"What choice did I have?" said Freya. "Hope thought it would have killed Beatrix instantly, and she was right."

"You could have denied her, defied her. We had a plan to keep the dark magic away from the both of them."

"A plan that wasn't working!"

"Yes, well, thanks to you, the magic has her now. So, if my daughter should be harmed in any way, shape or form, I will hold you personally responsible."

He stormed out, and Beatrix awkwardly popped some fruit into her mouth. "That went terribly," she muttered. "Freya, he's just angry. We're going to fix this though, and then, he needn't act so bitchy."

Freya half-smiled before walking out without another word. Beatrix and Elijah were left with filled plates, and they ate in silence.

"You would have sacrificed yourself, Itza?" he asked once she got up.

She nodded. "Without missing a beat."

"Without saying goodbye?"

She sighed and faced away from him. "Look, I didn't think your memories would be back in time. I didn't think it mattered."

"You didn't think I would want to hold you?" He stood and came over to her. "There would have been so many things I wouldn't have been able to say. So many apologies."

"Elijah, you don't need to apologize—"

He turned her to face him. "Yes, I do. The things I said before were not enough." He put his hand on her arm to bring her into the memory.

"My darling Itza," Elijah whispered, just before Vincent and Freya began the spell to separate The Hollow. "I have long wondered what I might have said to you that day in 1914 if I had known that you would nearly lose your life. What I could tell you about how I felt. I treated you like a fragile object when you were confined in the Compound. I was so afraid to lose you that I imposed my control. Perhaps, Hayley is right to see me as a monster. It is what I am. I see you here now and wonder what I could have done to avoid this. To save you from the pain you have endured from our family. The torture. The heartbreak. I wish there was a better way to say goodbye. To be able to apologize for all the pain I caused you. I may, perhaps, never see you again. And it causes an aching in my soul that I'm not sure I can withstand. I wish, on this day, that in the next life, if we have one, our souls find each other again, the way they did in this lifetime. I am not sure how I will survive without being able to speak to you. To hear your intriguing thoughts. Your laughter..."

He leaned down and kissed her head gently. She whimpered, the feeling of his lips on her skin causing discomfort. "I should never have made you a second choice," he whispered. "That day I saw you again, I should have taken you into my arms and kissed you. I should have... done so many things. I will forever regret them. The choices I made have hurt you, and Hayley. I only wish that you will be safe. You and my niece."

He released her and she gasped, not having remembered his words so clearly since she had been so near death when he spoke them. "I need to apologize for not looking harder for you after 1914," Elijah said. "For not confirming anything. For not asking Marcel about you when we returned in 2011. For inciting a problem between you and Hayley. For ruining both you and her with my indecisiveness and selfishness, because I wanted you both, not just one. For— for not picking you."

She gulped and turned her head away. "Elijah, don't apologize for that. You and Hayley had something special. We've talked about this several times before."

"I ruined her, Itza, don't tell me I didn't. I wasn't even completely over you when she came along. And rather than let her be at peace with her husband, I continued to pursue her. I should have fought for your affections. You, who I had history with. You, who I could trust above all others. My soulmate. It is entirely my fault that she died because I reeled her in instead of letting her go and it destroyed her."

Beatrix shook herself out of his grasp. "Don't do this, Elijah. I know what you're doing. You're trying to give me a reason to live."

"Itza, I respect your choices. I do. And I know that you believe this will be the right thing to do. But that doesn't mean I wish for you to die. Why would I accept that? Why? There— there are still several things I wish to do. I want to take the rest of eternity making it up to you. Healing. Making it up to Hope. To Hayley. I want to be the man you deserve, without faults. And if you die, how will it happen?"

Beatrix felt herself start to tear up. "This is what I didn't want," she said softly. "I didn't want to strike up anything new. I know I'm going to die eventually, Elijah, and if I speed it up, I don't care, as long as it protects my niece. She's hardly gotten to live. I've lived for nearly three hundred and forty five years. That's enough for me. Hope needs to see the world. And if I just sit back and let her die, I will hate myself until the day I inevitably follow suit. So please, Elijah, if you're really respecting my choice, then don't try to convince me to live like this. I don't want to."

He held her chin. "Why would you wish to die? Why— why have we failed you so much that you seek death as release?"

"I've lost too many people. My mother. My sister. Kai. Cami. Even Jackson— he and I were starting to become friends. I don't want to live like this anymore. Just seeing people die and knowing I couldn't have done anything. Who's going to be next? Freya? Keelin? Vincent? I am going to die anyway. And after all the brutality I've seen... brutality that I've caused... I don't want that to be my legacy. I want to do one last good thing with all of this. I-I told you about the Mayan myths. Chamer. If the Mayan gods really are real, The Hollow would permanently be removed from this Earth. I shouldn't have lived as long as I did. I want to keep Hope safe. So please, understand that."

He let go of her, and looked away. "Of course," he murmured half-heartedly.

"Thank you," she said, closing her eyes and blinking away a few tears before walking out.

She found Freya and Klaus talking on the staircase.

"Please, Klaus, I'm not the enemy," said Freya. "Okay? Every time I look at Hope, I see the child of mine that I never got to raise. That's how I feel about her. That's how much I want to protect her. She came to me in so much pain, and I knew that she was gonna take back that power with or without me. Okay? So I gambled that if she felt like we were on her side, maybe she would let us help her."

"Well, you couldn't have been more wrong," said Klaus in a snarky tone. "Now Vincent or Beatrix will have to come up with something."

Freya pulled out a small golden chain as Beatrix walked up. "He already did."

Klaus stared at it. "Hope's bracelet."

"She took it off for good a few years ago," explained Freya. "Said she didn't need it anymore, but... now she does. Now, this won't stop whatever the dark magic is doing to her, but it could lessen her suffering until we find a permanent solution."

Klaus sighed. "I know you love her. I never doubted that. I just..."

"Wish things were different?" mumbled Freya. "Me, too."

Beatrix followed Klaus up as he went to deliver the bracelet to Hope.

"She's got the same symptoms that you do," whispered Klaus. "Already she's disoriented. She keeps clutching her side, and she thinks I do not notice."

Beatrix pursed her lips and took the bracelet. "I'm going to do everything I can to save her, okay? That's a promise."

They entered the room and found Hope painting. Beatrix sat down beside her and held out the chain. "Mi esperanza, I need you to put this on."

Hope furrowed her brows. "No, I don't need that."

"It's not a request, Hope," said Klaus.

"Dad, you said it," she countered. "I'm strong. I can control myself."

He shook his head vehemently. "No, you can't, not with this. I lived with that darkness for seven years. I know how awful it can be. When I was in proximity to my siblings, it was almost unbearable, and now you... You're carrying all of it inside you."

Hope sighed. "Okay. If, um... if I put that on, do you promise to stop worrying?"

He half-smiled. "I'm your father. I'm always gonna worry."

Beatrix fastened the bracelet around her niece's wrist, and she saw Hope let out a sigh of relief. It seemed this had cleared her head enough to turn the conversation into an interrogation. "You lied too, Aunt Trix," she said quietly.

The Heretic furrowed her brows. "I'm sorry? What do you mean?"

"Aunt Trix?" asked Hope, having begun to paint. She was seven, and The Hollow had just resurrected Davina. "Are you sick? I heard my mom and dad talking about it last night."

The Heretic let out a soft sigh. "In a manner of speaking."

"What is it? Like a cold?"

Beatrix half-smiled. "Like a cold, in a way."

"But you'll get better, right?"

She hesitated to answer.

Beatrix knew that this disease, this dark magic she was born with, was killing her. Perhaps the others wanted to find a solution, but she knew more than anyone that this would not be possible. Sooner or later, the effects would be irreversible.

The Heretic was no longer afraid of dying. She didn't fear the pain. She was relentless in wanting to fight because she didn't want to waste the time she had left. If her time was limited, she wanted to do good. Ever since she'd come to terms with this, she had changed. She knew that she had the potential to give a lasting contribution, and she made it happen.

"Yes, I'll get better," said Beatrix quietly. It wasn't a complete lie. Her condition could improve slightly, which could be considered 'better.' But she would never be cured.

"You aren't going to get better, are you?" whispered Hope. "You wanted to take the spirit in so that it would be gone faster. Because you know that you're not going to live much longer even if it isn't inside of you."

Beatrix sighed. "Mija, I didn't think you needed to find out about that."

"How couldn't I? I knew exactly which teas you were drinking each morning. I could hear how my mom used to check on you every full moon, wondering if the celestial event brought out any symptoms. Vincent and Freya were always being so... so gentle with you when you did spells. Not to mention you taught me less and less each time, like you were scared to do magic. And— and when we got back from the funeral, you didn't take your magic back until you thought I was going to put The Hollow into you. You're terminal. And you're all worried because you think that I am, too. That's why you cried yesterday."

Neither Klaus nor Beatrix could meet her gaze.

"Are you serious?" Hope said. "Aunt Trix, you can't— you can't possibly think that that would have gone well. How do you think I would have felt? It would have killed you, and I would have thought it was my fault!"

"But it wouldn't be your fault, mi pequeña," said Beatrix. "You need to know that it's what I chose to do to protect you. This magic isn't going to bode well for you. It's too dark and your body isn't more resistant to it just because you're a tribrid. I'm a very rare instance of a being that can deal with more, but it's just... not happening anymore. My body is too old. It's been growing like an infection for centuries already, and I don't want that same fate to befall you."

Hope suddenly out out a hiss. She tore off the bracelet, revealing it had burned into her skin. She started to gasp, and Beatrix and Klaus made to move toward her, but she brushed past them. "I-I need two drams of absinthe," she said shakily.

"You're fifteen," said Klaus as he and Beatrix rushed after her.

"It— it's for a spell. If the bracelet isn't working..."

"We'll find something that does work," Beatrix said. "I promise. Just, please— you need rest."

Hope stopped suddenly. She turned around and once again, both vampires found themselves with their necks snapped.

_

They knew where she was without having to do a Locator Spell.

"She wanted absinthe," snarled Klaus as they shot awake. "We don't have that here. She must have gone to Rousseau's."

He sped off, and Beatrix chose to wait behind. After all, Klaus could handle it.

They returned seven minutes later. Beatrix was waiting at the entrance hall as Hope walked in, and Klaus sped in beside her. "What was that?" he demanded. "You won't take my help, you reject the bracelet, you're throwing Elijah around—"

"It stopped the voices!" said Hope loudly.

"What?" said Beatrix, flinching as she approached her niece.

Hope looked down. "Ever since I took the power back, the whispers... I can't think, I can't sleep, I can't even breathe. But right now, it's silent. Is this the rest of my life? A rage that can only be quieted by violence?"

Klaus sighed. "Hope, if violence is what you need to feel better, then you have the perfect father."

"Let's not jump to violence," said Beatrix sharply. "I should siphon a bit, Hope, if you'll let me. I can't say I've experienced the voices so soon after the symptoms start, it's usually just headaches and aches with blackened veins, with the whispers only appearing near the peak of the infection. A lot of fatigue and trouble sleeping, yes. Let me—"

"No," said Hope, shaking her hand. "I thought I could handle it, I really did. I admit maybe I was rash. But I'm not letting you siphon. I... I think I'll take my dad up on his offer."

Klaus, of course, didn't mind. "You're handling it as best you can," he told her, taking her shoulders. "And I'm going to be here with you every step of the way, alright?" He hugged her, looking over at Beatrix. He then pulled back. "Now. Beat me up. Make it hurt."

"Is this really your choice of A plus parenting, Klaus?" said Beatrix as Klaus led Hope to the courtyard. He ignored her. "Come on, now," he encouraged his daughter. "Get it all out."

"This isn't the way of going about it!" Beatrix insisted as Klaus stepped back. "Let me have her do some dark spell that'll do good for some people. It'll help her to get it out like that..."

Hope was clearly too desperate to expel the magic right in that moment. Beatrix understood it. Violence always cleared her head when she was in such pain.

And thus, Hope began to toss Klaus around like a rag doll.

Beatrix wasn't sure whether to step in. She covered her mouth as the young witch started slamming Klaus around. He was indestructible when it came to her spells, but he felt pain, clearly, and he was bleeding.

"Do it again," he panted. "Harder this time. All of that pain, that simmering darkness. You need to purge it before it eats you alive."

But this time, Hope didn't do it. "It's not working," she said, putting a hand tentatively on her forehead.

"You're holding back," said Klaus.

Hope looked indignant. "You really think I want to feel this way? No matter how hard I try to get it out, I don't feel any better. You're not the one I want to hurt."

And yet another chance for her father to show her the thing he knew best. Revenge.

"Give me a name," he said.

It flew out of Hope's mouth faster than Beatrix expected.

"Roman Sienna."