The soft tick tock of the antique grandfather clock in the corner of the attic of St Anne's church and the faint muffled chatter from the French Quarter street beneath the open window were the only sounds Davina Claire could hear from where she was sitting on the centre of the four-post bed to the side of the improvised bedroom.

Silence resonated throughout the attic, the heaviness settling on the shoulders of the young girl until it was a struggle for her to breathe without gasping for oxygen. One of her hands flew to her chest as she attempted to stop herself from hyperventilating, slowly inhaling and exhaling as she tried to even out her breathing. She could feel her lungs burning from lack of oxygen as she tears subconsciously sprung to her eyes and she squeezed them shut to stop herself from crying.

Memories of when she was little, lying alone in her darkened bedroom as the house grew suspiciously silent infiltrated her mind and she internally berated herself for not figuring what was going on right under her nose sooner than she had. She had been ten when she realised that the deadened silence was an indication of a privacy spell in effect and, being the curious child she was, she went in search of the reason someone was casting such a spell in the middle of the night. The hallway outside her bedroom door was pitch black but a sliver of light seeped out from under the partially closed door that led to her father's study, almost beckoning her forward as she tiptoed quietly down the corridor. She held her breath as she peeked through the small crack left open, her gaze immediately landing on her father's back and she frowned in confusion because she hadn't heard him come home that evening. Her lips pulled down at the corners in a frown when she saw someone's bare leg sprawled on the ground in front of her father and an almost inaudible horrified gasp escaped her when he stepped aside to reveal the familiar blue eyes of her older sister. Scarlet blood trickled from one side of her nose, coating her lips as she clutched her shoulder with one hand and the blood stood out against her pale skin as she looked up at their father with fear clear in her expression. Davina had never seen that type of horror on her sister's face before, the terror in Imogen's eyes was the most real thing she had ever seen. She watched with wide eyes as her father grasped Imogen's chin roughly in between his fingers, squeezing until the older girl cried out in pain and tears sprung to her eyes as she glared up at him with a burning hatred that was clear from across the room. The image of that slap still echoed through Davina's mind years later as she tried to fall asleep at night, the way her sister's formed a silent 'o' out of pain as her head snapped to the side and the blood that poured from her split lip as she collapsed onto the ground.

That night was the first time she experienced a panic attack. She had stumbled back to her bedroom as she gasped for breath, a sharp pinching on the left side of her chest but she didn't dare make a sound to alert anyone to her presence. She remembered lying alone in the dark as she struggled to breath, the minutes all running together in a blur of misery as she cried unabashed until she felt like she was about to blackout from lack of oxygen. One minute she was on the verge of passing out as she curled in on herself and the next Imogen was kneeling beside her prone body with a worried expression on her face, all of her wounds miraculously healed as though they'd never been there at all.

'Don't be afraid', Imogen's soothing voice rang through the young witch's mind as she brought her legs up to her chest in an effort to make herself as small as possible and she squeezed her eyes closed as she remembered her sister's previous instructions, 'Don't be afraid. It's just temporary. You've been through this before, you can do it again. Breathe. Don't forget to breathe. You can do this. In and out. Slowly. In and out. You got this, Pixie.'

Davina sighed in relief as the pressure on her chest released slightly when she followed her sister's advice, oxygen filling her lungs with an aching pleasure and she ran her shaking fingers through her limp brunette hair as she looked down at her lap with a frown on her lips.

"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.

"Hey, there's someone here to see you." Marcel whispered teasingly to the witch in his arms with a slight grin on his lips as he kept his eyes fastened on the other brunette in the doorway.

Davina's disheartened sobs quietened into soft sniffles as she slowly lifted her head from his chest, blushing furiously at the damp patch her tears left on the material of his shirt and she hurriedly brushed her cheeks with the back of her hand as she tried settle her unsteady breaths. The strong arm wrapped around her waist gave her comfortable, anchoring her to reality as she struggled to identify fact from fiction.

Marcel gently brushed a strand of unruly brunette hair away from her eyes, tucking it behind her ear as he watched her turned her head towards the doorway with an apprehensive expression marring her pretty features. He witnessed the second she comprehended who exactly was standing in the doorframe: her blue eyes widened fractionally in wonderment as her mouth parted without uttering a single sound and her lower lip started to tremble uncontrollably as her eyes welled with a fresh batch of tears.

Imogen gasped aloud in the nearly silent room as her blue eyed gaze collided with Davina's, their matching eyes clouded with such devotion and pain and longing and absolute adoration. Every ounce of tender aching that had resided in her chest since the night of her sister's death disappeared into oblivion the moment she saw Davina's tear drenched face.

A strangled whimper escaped Davina as she clamped her lips shut in an attempt to mute the unflattering noise and tears streamed unapologetically down her cheeks as she stared at her older sister with wide eyes.

The moment Imogen heard the almost inaudible distressed sob that arose from her sister's throat and saw the disconsolate expression that fell over her features, she was racing across the bedroom floor as fast as her merely human legs would carry her. Her knees hit the soft edge of the mattress, catapulting her forward onto the bed as her arms stretched out towards Davina, wrapping around the younger girl's shoulders as they both tumbled backwards in a tangled mess of limbs. It was almost too difficult to tell where one sister started and the other began as they clung to each other tightly as though they were the adhesive holding the other together.

"Oh, my God, I can breathe again." Imogen murmured almost too quietly to be heard over her sister's heart wrenching sobs but Marcel's enhanced vampire hearing caught the soft declaration as he watched the reuniting pair with a fond smile on his lips. His chest ached with a deep burning sensation, a feeling he'd thought buried long ago when he'd made the transition into a vampire and he ducked his head to hide the sudden sting of tears prickling his eyes, even though he knew the girls were too wrapped up in each other to notice.

Somehow, someway, the two witches beside him had become the most important people in the world to him and even if he could, he wouldn't want to change how entangled in them he'd become. The three of them were thrown together through circumstance, plunged headfirst into the hellfire that spread around them and they stayed together not out of obligation but out of totally unadulterated love.

Imogen exhaled softly in relief as she gently stroked her sister's brunette hair with tears burning in her eyes and she revelled in the familiar weight of Davina's head on her chest, the reassuring pressure that was a constant reminder of her presence. Younger girl curled into her side with her arms wrapped around her like she used to when she was little and would sneak into her room in the middle of the night after a nightmare, not wanting to be alone if the monsters came out to play.

Quiet whimpers arose from Davina as she slowly drifted off to sleep, content in the embrace of her older sister, her protector and under the watchful eye of the vampire who rescued her so many months ago, her saviour, her defender.

"Thank you." Imogen whispered brokenly as she locked gazes with the vampire sitting on the opposite side of the bed, her voice cracking over the word 'you' as she tried not to let the tears in her eyes fall.

The sincerity, the meaning in her voice nearly killed him as he meet her eyes with a solemn expression and he silently reached out to intertwined their fingers, setting their joined hands on the curved of Davina's waist. This was it. This was their family. The three of them. They didn't need words to express how they were feeling because they could read it in each other's eyes. Imogen was thankful he'd risked his life returning to New Orleans in order to resurrect Davina, Marcel was grateful that he'd been given a chance to have the familial connection he'd always wanted, and they were both indebted to the universe that they had Davina lying safely in their arms after missing her so fiercely.

"Is Rebekah in New Orleans?" Imogen asked quietly in an anxious tone of voice as she absently stoked her sister's hair, not wanting her to wake up but she knew that they needed to have this conversation.

"Yeah, she's stuck in Lafayette Cemetery with both Klaus and Elijah. I just talked to her on the phone before you got here." Marcel told her in a whisper with a haunted look in his eyes as he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand and he sighed heavily as he glanced away from her before meeting her gaze with a determined glint in his eyes. "I told her to stay as far away from him as she can. But Celeste trapped them in there 'til moonrise. I'm trying to find a loophole, get her out of there early."

"Then what happens? Klaus will come after you both."

"Then, we can all go together. If Klaus comes after us, we will take him on one hell of a ride."

"You want us to come with you?" she asked in a shocked voice as her eyebrows rose in surprise, her hand stilling momentarily in the middle of running her finger through her sister's hair.

"I promised to get you both out of here months ago. Let me fulfil that promise." He said in the most casual tone of voice he could muster under the circumstance but internally he was vibrating with nerves as his dark brown eyes pleaded with her to consider his proposition.

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Sunlight filtered through the parted clouds in the sky overlooking Lafayette Cemetery, the beams spreading warmth in an otherwise dreary state of affairs. Elijah Mikaelson stood protectively besides his baby sister as kept a watchful eye on where his brother was perched onto a tomb and he stuffed his hands in his suit pants pockets, the perfect example of casual elegance amongst the derelict crypts surrounding them.

"Let it begin. The trial of Rebekah Mikaelson." Klaus declared loudly in a dramatic manner as he tightened his grip around the indestructible white oak stake in his grasp and Elijah had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at his younger brother's penchant for the melodramatic.

"What a relief. His ego is in check." Rebekah muttered sarcastically under her breath as she leaned towards him slightly with her hands in her jackets pockets and his lips twitched into a faint amused smirk at her words but he kept his gaze on his brother. He wasn't positive he would able to look in her direction without a renewed sense of betrayal overpowering his desire to save her life.

"Just speak your truth. I'll make certain he behaves himself." Elijah told her in a confident tone of voice as he removed his hands from his pockets and gracefully sat down on the concrete edge of the tomb, looking though he didn't have a care in the world when in reality it was crashing down around him.

Klaus narrowed his light blue eyes at the blonde standing in front of him, struggling to control the impulse to tear her throat out and he took Elijah's comment as his cue to begin the questioning, "You stand accused of betraying your own blood. How do you plead?"

"I plead you to shut up and listen." Rebekah snapped at him impatiently as she tilted her head to the side, knowing from past experience that his grandstanding could go on for a long while if she didn't nip it in the bud.

"You summoned our father. You brought him to our home. What possible defence could you have?" he asked her in a demand as his voice rose slightly with each word that came out of his mouth, his arms gesturing wildly subconsciously as his hand tightened around the stake in his hand until his knuckles turned white under the strain.

"I knew he was the only thing that you feared, and I wanted you to run."

"Because you hated me."

"Because you were hateful." She corrected pointedly as she glared at him heatedly, although deep down inside there was a small portion of herself did indeed hate him for all he had put her through over the years. For a thousand years she'd been tethered to her tyrant brother, unable to make her own decision or express her own opinions out of fear he would disagree. "You denied me the freedom to love."

"Oh, so that's your defence? You called Mikael-- the Destroyer, the Hunter of Vampires-- because I detained you from pursuing some dull suitors." He spat in disbelief as he leaned forward slightly to emphasis the ridiculousness of the statement, his light blue eyes blazing with incredulity as he stared at his younger sister.

"You were cruel, and controlling, and manipulative." She reminded him in a slightly softer tone of voice, allowing the cold mask she usually wore to fade momentarily so that he could see the truth and pain and betrayal behind her words.

"I was trying to protect you!" Klaus shouted in frustration as he threw his arms in the air, his voice cracking almost unnoticeably and Rebekah's expression contorted into one of sceptical disbelief as she cocked her head to the side. "From imbeciles, and leeches. Not to mention your own poor judgment."

"And what about the one that you loved enough to call friend? Why did you forbid me to love Marcel?" the blonde challenged him with resolve steeling her voice as she narrowed her cerulean blue eyes at him, broaching the controversial linchpin topic that had set everything in motion all those years ago.

"Do not mention his name." the hybrid ordered in a deadly voice as he suddenly launched to his feet with a thunderous expression, pointing an accusing finger in his sisters direction. The mention of his adopted son sent a flurry of emotions through him, a wave of unrecognisable feelings that he couldn't pinpoint the name of as he tried to hide the pain that etched onto his features.