"The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned." – Maya Angelou

There was a serenity to sitting alone in the dark, surrounded by the illuminating glow of candlelight Imogen found as she curled up on one end of the couch in her living room. Her back was resting against the arm of the couch as she brought her knees up to her chest with a blanket thrown over her lap and she absently watched Casablanca play on the television as she nursed a large glass of red wine after a long hard day. The sound was nearly muted but she had seen the movie enough times to know it word for word and she was enjoying the mundane activity after such a stressful twenty-four hours.

Imogen breathed out heavily as she lifted her half empty glass to her lips, pausing momentarily before taking a leisurely sip and savouring the taste as she tilted her head back with her eyes closed.

It had only been an hour since she had said goodbye to her sister outside The Lycée but the ache in her heart was painful enough that all she wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry for the next month. They spent at least twenty minutes locked in a tight embrace, neither of them eager to part ways and it wasn't until Genevieve loudly cleared her throat impatiently that they separated.

Saying goodbye to Davina at the gate of the City of the Dead was one of the hardest things she had ever had to do in her life and she couldn't help but wonder if she was making the right decision leaving her there.

After their brutal parting, Marcel offered to accompany her back to her apartment so that she wasn't alone but she denied his offer and decided that a night time stroll in the gentle breeze would be beneficial to clear her mind. The doubt plagued her thoughts constantly on the way back to her apartment building, but she told herself that it was for the best, that Davina would be happier in the long run and this pain wouldn't be for nothing.

Moments after she arrived home from taking the long way home there was a furious knocking on the front door before it had swung open to reveal Marcel standing on the other side and it took her a moment of standing in front of him, gaping in shock before she asked him what the hell he thought he was doing.

The former king was paler than she had ever seen him, his dark eyes glazed over in panic as he stumbled into the apartment without a word and he finally meet her questioning gaze as he mumbled that he confronted the Original brothers but his only punishment was a banishment from the French Quarter issued from Elijah, not Klaus.

They were both shocked by the turn of events, but they knew that it was one of the better outcomes that they could've hoped for and it was one that they were glad to pay if it meant Marcel keeping his life. They had shared a glass of wine, speaking in low tones about what they were going to do now before Marcel had decided to call it a night and he graced her with a kiss on the cheek as he left to go to one of the properties he owned across the river.

A knock on the front door to her apartment broke her out of her introspective mood, her head snapping up in suspicion as a confused frown marred her lips and she quickly stood up from the couch as she placed her wine glass on the coffee table.

"Marcel, I saw you an hour ago! I swear, I'm fine, okay? Can you please – " Imogen started to exclaim impatiently as she made her way to the front door but suddenly stopped in surprise when she opened the door to reveal a blonde Original standing on the other side with her eyebrow raised in bemusement. "Rebekah, hi!"

"Hello. May I?" she asked politely as she gestured with her hand inside the apartment and the witch nodded her acquiescence as she stepped aside to allow the vampire to pass by her. Rebekah eyed the nearly empty glass of wine sitting on the mahogany coffee table before turning around face the brunette and folding her hands in front of herself to stop from fidgeting nervously with her fingers. "I didn't mean to interrupt your evening."

"You're not." Imogen assured her quickly with a compassionate smile pulling on her lips and she stepped forward to rest a hand on the younger girls forearm with a concerned glint in her blue eyes, "Are you okay? I heard you spent the day locked in the City of the Dead with your brothers. I know that it must have been trying, to say the least."

"It was...illuminating." Rebekah stated honestly in a vague tone of voice as the corner of her mouth turned up in a slight smirk and Imogen nodded in acknowledgement as she squeezed the arm that she still under her fingers. "I came to say goodbye. Nik and I came to a sort of all-or-nothing arrangement. I leave town for good, and he allows me to. Can't pass that up."

"Should I be offering condolences or congratulations?"

There was a teasing edge of the witch's question that broke the melancholy tension that had settled over the apartment and the sorrowful glaze that was in Rebekah's cerulean eyes brightened as she chuckled in amusement. It had been far too long since she had felt the urge to laugh at anything, but it felt pleasant to actually want to experience genuine amusement and she had hope that it was the beginning of her new life. A life of laughter and happiness and hope, all the things that she had wanted since she was a child.

The thought of leaving her brothers behind to fend for themselves caused her chest to ache painfully, but the desire to be free and live her own life was far too great. Her relationships with both Elijah and Niklaus may have to been strained at best, but she did love them with all of her heart and it hurt her to think they were going to be stuck with only each for comfort once she left New Orleans. They were both their own worst enemy when it came to handling their emotions. They needed someone to help them accept what they were feeling and Rebekah had an intuitive belief that Imogen could be the one who kept them from breaking into a million pieces. She knew from past experience her brothers were stubborn when it came to accepting help from others but she had also witnessed Imogen's own unwavering tenacity when she believed in something, the unrelenting persistence she displayed in order to succeed.

"Imogen, my family...we are all broken. Niklaus with his anger and paranoia, me with my fear of abandonment. And poor Elijah...he dedicates himself to everyone but himself. We are the strongest creatures in the world, and yet, we are damaged beyond repair. We live without hope, but we will never die. We are the definition of 'cursed.'" Rebekah told the witch honestly in a saddened tone of voice as she lowered her gaze to the ground, suddenly unable to meet the knowing eyes of the witch she was confiding her most intimate thoughts.

"Why are you telling me this?" Imogen asked her softly without any judgement in her voice as she tilted her head to the side curiously, a small frown turning down the corners of her lips.

"Because my brothers are as stubborn as mules, and they will bury themselves in denial until one day, they combust in a carnage so devastating the streets will run red with the blood of their victims. They need someone to help them when they don't even know they need help. Someone who won't let their pain fester until it becomes fatal, to themselves or others. Someone strong enough to handle the burden of their phenomenal amount of emotional baggage. They need you, Imogen."

"That's one hell of a responsibility, Rebekah."

"But one you can handle. I have no doubt about that." the blonde said in a confident tone, an almost smug smirk creeping onto her lips as she tilted her head to the side and regarded the witch with admiration shining in her eyes. She had encountered numerous women over the centuries, many of whom her brothers had bedded, but there was something different about Imogen Claire and she knew deep within herself that she was leaving her brothers in capable hands.

Imogen narrowed her eyes in consideration as she crossed her arms over her chest, carefully scrutinising the Originals expression for any sign of how she was truly handling being ousted by her brother. It was no secret that the Original family were barely a family at all, but the relationship between the siblings was hinged together on a millennia of love and betrayal and hope for a better future. It was a bond that was not easily broken, one that was permeant despite their downfalls and hardships with each other.

Concern and resentment on behalf of the youngest Mikaelson children waged a war inside of the brunette as she witnessed the pain hidden behind the mask Rebekah always wore in front of a crowd. It was a startling experience to watch as the façade faded in front of your very eyes, a wakeup call, begging you to reconsider how you lived your own life, to be aware of your own potentiality and the vulnerability kept hidden from the world like a forbidden secret looming in the back of your mind.

There was a nearly invisible glow surrounding Rebekah, encompassing her entire being and Imogen knew that it was a mixture of happiness, loneliness, betrayal, regret, longing, guilt and numerous other emotions that melded together in puddle of complexity that was the human condition. It gave Imogen hope for the vampire, but it also sparked a maternal anxiety inside of her as she looked at the eternally seventeen year old girl.

"But who's going to look after you?" the witch asked in concern as she nibbled on her lower lip with her head tilted to the side and her frown deepened when her question was met with a startled bout of laughter.

"No one. I'm on my own. For the first time, I'm on my own. And I'm glad for it." Rebekah remarked with an honest grin on her lips as she clasped her hands in front of her and Imogen couldn't help but match her smile when she saw the genuine pleasure in her cerulean eyes. "You need not worry about me, Imogen. This is what I've always wanted for myself."

"Okay. Then I'm happy for you." Imogen conceded softly with a small smile as she shrugged one of her shoulders and she stepped forward with her arms extended until she had enfolded the blonde in an embrace. A subconscious part of her mind wondered if maybe she using the tightness of the hug to squeeze until all of the broken pieces of Rebekah's soul fell back together like a perfectly aligned jigsaw puzzle.

Rebekah returned the hug with the same enthusiasm, closing her eyes against the burning sensation of tears that filled her eyes in a moment of weakness and she allowed herself the brief length of the embrace to be vulnerable in the presence of another person.

"I got you something." the witch murmured quietly as she pulled back from the embrace, leaving her hands resting on the other girls shoulders and she bit her lower lip to stop from grinning too widely as she quickly made her way into her bedroom without a backwards glance.

A confused frown pulled at the corners of Rebekah's lips as she watched Imogen disappear to another room of the apartment and she took a moment to marvel at the longue room she was standing within.

All of the walls were painted a neutral cream colour that matched the mahogany furniture scattered around and she took note of the burgundy coloured couch to the side of the living room, along with the mismatched throw pillows on the cushions. The only personal touches in the apartment were the well-read novels that were lined up on the shelves of the bookshelf to the side of the room, the picturesque collage hanging on the wall and the pairs of shoes that were carelessly dispersed near the front door.

"I found this the other day at the market, some college students had set up a stall, and I immediately thought of you when I saw it sitting there." Imogen announced her presence as she strolled back into the room with a bright grin on her lips, a small blue rectangle in her hands as she approached where the blonde was still standing. "I know it's small but, I thought you'd appreciate it."

Rebekah accepted the small box with a puzzled expression but kept herself from asking any questions as she slowly lifted the lid from the container and one hand flew to her mouth to cover the gasp of surprise when she saw what was laying inside its confines.

A silver chain bracelet was nestled among the tissue paper, a flat pendent in the shape of a heart was hanging near the clasp and the inscription on the surface was written in perfect cursive.

Rebekah felt warmth swell in her chest as she pressed her lips in a straight line to stop from letting out a sob and tears brimmed in her eyes as she dropped her hand to her side, reading the engraving in a small voice, "'Things are never quite as scary when you've got a best friend.'"

"I know you missed out on a lot of 'normal' things. Especially, the things a mortal teenage girl would experience, and a lot those things you can't get back, but this? This I can give you, this you can have. A best friend. Someone to care about you regardless of the things you've seen, done, or experienced. Someone who chooses to have you in their life, knowing exactly the kind of person you are." Imogen said in a gentle tone of voice as she clasped her hands in front of her almost nervously, unsure of how the Original would interpret her gift. "Your brother's aren't the only one I'm going to be looking after."

"Thank you." the eternally seventeen year old girl breathed out in awe as she removed the bracelet from the box and clasped it on her wrist with an illuminous smile lighting up her beautiful features.

Imogen nodded in acknowledgement to the gratitude as she smiled at the glee obvious in Rebekah's expression and she internally vowed to herself that she would do everything in her power to keep the light in the vampire's eyes.

________________________________________

The sound of footsteps echoed throughout the empty corridors of the Abattoir and the silence heavy reverberated against the walls, doing nothing to mask the footfalls approaching deeper into the confines of the building.

There were times when silence was louder than words, when nothing told more of a story than speaking aloud ever would and Imogen could hear the quiet whispers in the stillness of the compound. She had heard from numerous sources that the vampires of the city's privileges had been revoked under order of the Mikaelson family but it was eerie to be walking the corridors alone in the dark. The painted portraits of vampires throughout history hanging on the walls in frames seemed to watch every move the witch made, their inhuman eyes following her movement with an unnerving accuracy.

Imogen walked the familiar route to Klaus' personal study with an unsure but determined weight on her shoulders and she steeled herself for the unexpected as she paused in front of the closed double doors.

With a deep breath to steady her nerves, the brunette pushed open one of the doors as she schooled her features into a mask of indifference and strolled into the room with an apprehensive pit in her stomach.

Klaus clenched his jaw when he heard the door to his study open and close softly, his mind conjuring the image of his older brother coming to scold him for his actions, or caution him against whatever plot he was concocting. The sound of soft footsteps caught attention, far too delicate to be his brother, and he frowned slightly when the familiar thump thump thump of a human heartbeat got closer to where he was sitting on the chaise longue. He turned his head slightly to the side, just enough to catch sight of a familiar brunette familiar heading straight towards his makeshift bar in the corner of the room.

A fire roared wildly within the hearth on the other side of the room, the flame drawing the attention of the occupants of the study as Imogen approached the hybrid from behind and she noticed the half empty glass of bourbon hanging limply between his fingers. An appreciative hum vibrated through her as she wandered over to the bar in the corner and she poured herself a generous amount of the amber liquid before taking a sip of the burning liquor.

"You've spoken to Elijah, then? He sent you to make sure I haven't started slaughtering the locals." He remarked sardonically with a bitter smirk as he raised his glass to his lips and she huffed in dry amusement as she sunk down onto the couch besides him without touching him in any way.

"I haven't spoken him today, actually."

"Then why are you here then? To plead my sister's case in her absence?"

"Nope. Rebekah already came to say goodbye. She seemed...sad, but hopeful. Nervous, but excited. Like a high school senior leaving for college."

Klaus kept his narrowed gaze steadfast on the flames as his fingers tightened around his glass subconscious, her observation of his sister sending a fresh wave pain through him. But there was also hint of gratitude, because as much as he didn't want to show weakness by inquiring about Rebekah's wellbeing, he was concerned and somehow Imogen knew exactly what he needed to hear without him having to ask.

Silence settled over them as they both stared at the open flame, watching it lick the space above the coals like a restless animal trying to escape the confines of the hearth. Imogen carefully kicked off her shoes, the noise of them hitting the floor echoed throughout the room and she shifted to tuck a leg underneath herself as she turned slightly to lean her back against the arm of the chaise longue. A cursory glance towards him made her notice the lack of alcohol within his crystal tumbler and so she extracted the empty glass from his grasp, causing him to lift his head up to frown at her but she simply replaced it with her own nearly full glass of bourbon. His lips quirked up at the corners as he nodded in gratitude, holding up the glass slightly in silent salute and she scrunched her nose up cutely in response before turning her gaze back to the unruly flame.

"Why are you here, Imogen?" Klaus asked softly in such a vulnerable tone of voice that he cringed to himself, disgusted by the frailty and he kept his eyes locked in front of him as he took a sip of his drink.

"When one of your friends are hurting, you be there for them. You are my friend." She answered simply with shrug of her shoulders, her tone could've been read as dismissive but he could hear the sincerity in her words.

The phrase forced him to raise the glass to his lips in order to hide the uncontrollably upturn of his lips, it had been a while since someone had considered themselves his friend, especially of their own volition. Friendship was something that had never come easily to him, even when he was mortal his best and sometimes only friend had always been his older brother. All of his relationships since he had turned were based on a falsehood of who could give him more power or who he could manipulate into giving him what he needed from them.

But Imogen was different, his relationship with her was different, and he didn't want it to end up the same way all the others concluded in the past. If he didn't want to end up destroying his tentative friendship with the witch, he had to adjust his behaviour accordingly and that meant revealing something personal from his past, no matter how uncomfortable that made him.