𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎
𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱 𝗯𝘂𝗿𝗻

⋆˙★°.⋆✧°.⋆

A man in the Salvatore Stallion's uniform appears to be laying down proper pitch markings on the neatly mowed grass for — what looked like the upcoming game. A motley group of teenagers in red varsity jackets had been spray-painting the boarding schools' vehicles, crossing out the Salvatore school's logo, and writing down Mystic Falls Timberwolves instead.

"Ah!" Matt sighed agreeably, "Sweet memories."

"And do those memories include the brief warning our principal gave after finding out you are the mastermind behind that particular handiwork," Caroline inquired in her oh-so-sweet voice. "And almost made up his decision to sit you in the stands for the coming game?"

"Not trying to be humble or anything... but I was not the only one," Matt quips. "I've got a lot of helpful hands on my side."

Bonnie snorts, swatting his arm, "You boys are all the same no matter the time and age."

"Hey, I haven't done anything like that... ever," Jeremy defended himself vehemently.

"That's because you were too busy smoking weed under the bleachers to have any interest in football," Caroline snarks, her gaze still cast on the screen, making the teen huff with a roll of his eyes.

From afar, Henrik Mikaelson was watching the whole thing from the window of his room with a straight face. His hands are rested against the glass of his window, a Mikaelson crest on his fingers fashioned like a ring, noticeably visible in the morning light.

"Isn't that the crest I got made for myself," Rebekah cried out in surprise. "Ha! Suck it, Kol. My nephew carries something of mine always on his person, unlike your bloody outdated music player that can be given away for everyone to use."

"Who's to say he always carries it with him, sister," Kol snarks, "I definitely didn't hear him saying it."

"No legacy is so rich as honesty," the youngest Mikaelson's pleasant voice carried to their ears. "When Shakespeare wrote that, he obviously didn't know what I know about teenage boys." Outside, the Mystic Falls students snickered at their work and ran down the road, not before declaring rather loudly that Stallions suck. "I mean, I know there might be guys with integrity —who lead with truth and all that jazz. But, honestly, I've just never met any of them."

"Ah, see! That's what I was talking about — Mikaelson Cynicism," Marcel pointed out loudly, waving his finger at the screen in a grand fashion. "Now he feels more like you," he breathed a sigh of relief as he said that, feeling revealed to find some shadow of symbolism in the boy's words after all this time.

The scene suddenly shifted to a cozy room with its cream-colored curtains undrawn, blocking most of the ambient light from the street down. Henrik sat on one couch, one leg crossed over another, talking to a woman opposite him.

"Apart from you, you mean," The woman, Emma Tig, was seated across from Henrik with a notepad in her lap. She fixed a critical eye on him, observing his movements, noting everything she could perceive within her sight. "It's a well-known fact around here that you never lie."

"Never lie?" The horrified expression of Finn would've been funny to look at if they weren't feeling equally incredulous.

"No wonder he freaked when he found his supposed boyfriend lied to him," Jeremey scoffed.

"He is not his supposed anything," Klaus scowled. "It would be a miracle if he lives to see the day end. We Mikaelsons don't do well with betrayal."

"I don't think Lizzie Saltzman would approve that statement," Henrik comments off-handedly. "And she is absolutely true." Henrik uncrosses his legs, leaning back into his seat for a more comfortable posture. "Just because I don't lie, it doesn't mean I am speaking the truth either, Ms. Emma," The raven-haired boy answers with honesty. "I just cleverly evade the conversation, is all."

"Well, now that's a little believable compared to never lying," Alaric rolls his eyes. "To live as a supernatural in the world of humans, there's no way one can't not lie."

"So, no. Even I don't fall in that category," Henrik denies wholeheartedly.

"So, wait! That must be the Emma they were talking about yesterday, right?" Davina chimes in, her voice coming out loud without meaning it. "Looks like you were wrong about her being the girl who got Henrik in a tizzy," The witch turns to Enzo as she says it, quoting the words back to the vampire.

Emma sighs, looking at him thoughtfully. "First day in therapy, and you've already decided to double down on your nihilism."

Henrik shrugs in reply, unbothered. "What can I say — my recent encounters with some people made me want to be rich with honesty."

"Let's start from the beginning, shall we?" Emma suggested instead.

"Of my short-lived but horrific associations with liars, you mean?" Henrik remarked, his head tipped up.

"Wow! Even my sweet nephew is all defensiveness and sarcasm when it comes to feelings," Rebekah thinks aloud in disgruntlement. "Who would've thought?"

"Oh, I would love to talk about that," Emma says, not at all hindered by his biting tone that edged in his statement, "But, for today, let's start with something simple — Like your decision to perform black magic on school grounds last night."

The expression on Henrik's face changes almost instantly. "Maybe we could table this until I catch the guy I was trying to find by using said black magic," Henrik retorts, inching his body forward to rest his elbows to rest on his thighs. "Because the longer that Landon Kirby is out there, the greater the chance he tells people about this school and the kind of people we have hidden behind the gates."

"You know there's a beacon that alerts me when someone's using," Emma speaks with the same calm expression, her eyes never leaving him. "You knew you would be caught."

"Oh, that's what Josie meant when she said they will be caught," Bonnie makes a noise of acknowledgment as she watches the scene.

"These kids are being too much on themselves," Hayley complains, throwing her hands in the air. "I mean, knowing they will be consequences, but still doing it anyway because they think it's somehow their mistake—"

"I know, right," Caroline nods in agreement. "They are trying to make up for something that isn't even their fault, to begin with. That's some fucked-up Hero Complex. Or —or a Guilt complex. Or both."

"After I found Landon," Henrik says pointedly. His lips were thin, and his jaw set. "But we lost the trail, and now I'm being interrogated," With a huff, he leans back into the couch, trying to appear nonchalant. With a short sweep of his hands in the air, Henrik gestures toward their surroundings. "But go ahead, take your time. Nothing at stake here."

"Did anyone help you with the spell?" Emma asks after a brief pause.

A brief memory of performing Balck magic with Josie Saltzman flashed through his mind at her inquiry. "I am a firstborn Mikaelson witch, Emma," Henrik says as though it was supposed to answer everything. "My Aunt Freya once told me I have enough power to burn down villages to the very ground — what do you think?" Henrik says instead.

"I think—" Emma drags with a knowing look, "—You are evading the truth." Henrik pursues his lips, not amused at being called out in such a manner. "But since it's our first session together, and I would like you to attend more of these, I will let it go for this time."

"Oh, she's good, Ric," Caroline manages to show her approval. "Good luck finding her and hiring her, though."

"Yeah. I think all these kids would... like really, really, need that," Keelin says.

"I mean, to be entirely honest, I think every supernatural in the world would need one," Matt says, "And even the humans beside them could join for a few of those sessions too, then that's all too good."

"Then, why don't you go to these therapy sessions?" Dorian asks, very confused.

"And tell them what —that a vampire killed my sister. Buried her six feet under the ground and made it impossible to gain closure?" Matt snorts.

"Oh, or that a mother wanted me to sacrifice her only daughter to the ancestors of the French Quarter along with three other teenage girls because our coven wanted to preserve their magic," Davina adds.

"Or, perhaps that my vengeful 200-year-old dead ancestor made me the living anchor to the other side, making me feel the death of every supernatural that passes through me before she died once again," Bonnie continues.

Dorian winced visibly as they all began mentioning shortened stories of their horrible lives, finding some dark humor through their tragic stories. "Alright, fine, fine. I understand," the human says, cutting them off before anyone can continue further into the gory details. "All supernaturals are fucked up, and you can't really get any therapy — you just deal with it on your own." Still, it didn't sit right with him. "But. Still — there might have been some supernaturals that could have been in that profession, no?" Dorian tried.

"Well, I did my Ph.D. in it, but I can hardly deal with my problems, let alone help someone else," Camille pointed out pragmatically, stiff in the jaw.

"So, in short, Dorian," Jeremy ends the discussion with what sounded like an inward sigh at the hopelessness of it all. "To be considered a well-adjusted person after learning about this supernatural world is like a boon. Or a superpower."

"Can I go now?" Henrik asks impatiently, his eyes going to the closed doors, making it clear he wasn't interested in being in that stifling room for one more moment.

Deflated, Emma leaned forward and sought his eyes urgently. "Henrik. You're a student." Emma reminds the boy, making him tilt his head back in a low groan as though he already understood where the conversation was going. "This isn't your fight."

"—It's absolutely my fight, Emma," Henrik disagrees defiantly, his voice coming in a shout with barely concealed righteous anger. "Landon was inside the walls of this school because of me. He had access to the knife he stole because of me. We're at risk of exposure because of me." With a careless wave of his hands, he gestures toward the black file on the coffee table as he looks Emma Tig in the eye as though he is trying to drive a point home. "And you can tell me that I'm sublimating a lifetime of survivor's remorse, or whatever it is that you will start writing down in my file there, but I'm gonna help Dr. Saltzman find him."

"Oh, come on," Klaus grouses, his hands in the air. "How is it, his fight? I mean, I would never say no to a good revenge story. But Henrik's just pushing all the blame on himself." He glares at his family, "Just what all have you been teaching my son when we are not around," he says, wildly gesticulating towards Hayley and Elijah, who they all just learned died for some reason.

"Hey, don't blame me," says Kol, highly offended that his brother would think so little of him. "I would never teach my nephew about something as horrible as how to carry guilt. Have some respect!"

As Henrik pushes himself off the couch and makes his way to the door without as much as asking permission, Emma can't do anything but stare at his back in obvious concern. "And what happens when you do?" She asks when he finally reaches for the door knob.

Henrik halts in his footsteps for just a moment. A vindictive, lopsided smile flashes on his face before returning to normal as he walks out, not answering the woman.

The New Orleans gang makes a noise of acknowledgment at that.

"What, what is it?" Caroline inquires, wide-eyed at their collective expression.

"It means nothing good is gonna happen to Landon once Henrik finds him," Hayley vaguely answers, her tone carrying underlying distress.

"That's a classic Mikaelson expression, you know — when we are about to promise death and destruction on our enemies," Freya briefs with a calm air around her as though she's predicting the weather.

Everyone who knew exactly, what Freya was talking about, made a painful grimace, concerned for both teenagers.

"It should be said that Shakespeare wasn't completely useless at a few things," Henrik says in a voiceover as he makes his way back to his room, passing by the many students in the hallways that instinctively part ways for him. Closing the door to his room shut, he picks up a paper and pen.

Dear Aunt Freya,

"Oh, he is writing to me," Freya says, wide-eyed, leaning forward in her seat in interest.

I know you said to write to you if I am gonna do something momentarily stupid, reckless, or dangerous that could get me suspended.

"Well, at least he knows it's stupid, reckless, and dangerous," Enzo cheered, unconcerned, when everyone looked weary by the second at the thought of a possible murder or massacre.

"Small mercies, I guess," Caroline mutters, even if her dogged optimism about the temperamental werewolf sounded a little forced.

...again.

"Wait! What does he mean by suspended again? Why did he get suspended? When did he get suspended," Rebekah fires one question after another.

"Who the bloody hell knows," Kol rolled his eyes at his sister. "I am beyond delighted he is not all goody shoes."

"Kol," Hayley and Davina groan as they call out his name reproachingly.

"What," The wild one says defensively, "The boy is too uptight for his age, don't you think?"

Hayley has nothing to retort that with. Yeah, maybe. Hayley Marshall would've loved to see her son without the invisible weight on his shoulders. She felt like he really didn't smile enough like others. And the only person he had shared beautiful moments with turned out to be a liar, making all that progress go down the drain. So, all she could do was sigh and wish for things to turn out for the best.

So until then, please be patient and don't call Dr. Saltzman.

With Love,

Your one and only favorite Nephew.

P. S: Give my kisses to little Nik and Aunt Keelin.

"Wait! Did I hear Aunt Keelin?" Keelin speaks out, confused. That must be a mistake. Her eyes search for Freya Mikaelson, trying to catch a glimpse, hoping to glean something, only to find the eldest Mikaelson Child shaking her head.

"You—" Freya didn't seem to find the right words. Nor does she turn to look at the woman in question. "You are my —No. Maybe, we are friends —I think."

"And, pray tell, why would my nephew write a friend's name next to your son?" Rebekah made no attempt to keep the biting sarcasm out of her voice.

"Rebekah," Elijah warns his sister in a subdued voice. Rebekah rolled her eyes but decided to heed his words and stay silent. They all know Freya is not in any position to deal with something so sensitive as matters of her heart. After all, it takes time to mend the wounds of the soul.

They could see that Freya was fraying under these sudden revelations. They know what it's like to lose someone and how it feels to learn their fairy tale fantasy turn into nothing but a pipe dream. How hard it is to mend a broken heart. And they know how hard it is to accept that all is not lost. Because to love someone is a new kind of vulnerability. And not every Mikaelson wants to be that powerless after they have lived a thousand years and made a million enemies that would wish nothing more than to use that vulnerability against them.

Setting the letter aside neatly, Henrik bends to his knees and stomach to pull out a box under his bed. "You see, Shakespeare had plenty of advice about How to handle betrayal."

The young Mikaelson fishes a faded red worn-out book from the wooden chest that reads 'Shakespeare's Great Works' on the cover. However, once he unlocked the book, they could see tons of spells printed on the inside. "My personal favorite: 'Think, therefore, on revenge and cease to weep.'" As he flips through the pages, he comes across one particular spell. Mortem, it reads. A beautiful skull is drawn above it.

"Oh, God!" Vincent tilts his head back with a groan. "Not this."

"I feel he understated his actions when he said he would be doing something stupid and reckless in the letter," Josh decided. "I mean, even though I don't know Latin, even I can understand the word Mortem is something related to death, right?"

Kol nods while Vincent sighs. Davina and Bonnie had their mouth set in a tight line. "It's a death spell," Kol answers. He shakes his head in a faux, pitiful way. "Oh, that human boy will rue the day he went against Henrik," The raven-haired Mikaelson says more to himself.

"Fuck!" Alaric curses once he gathers himself. He could already feel his head aching just thinking about what he should expect while caring for all these highly volatile students under his protection. "He is really not gonna kill Landon, is he?"

When it looked like Finn was about to open his mouth to comment on something, all it needed was a pointed look from Freya for him to cut himself off.

"I don't know," Hayley says, equally worried herself. A comforting pat from Klaus on her knuckles settled her nerves a little. Does she wish for her son to murder someone using a death curse? No. But she is his mother. And she would understand his reasons at the end of the day.

But call it a mother's intuition or something — her gut feeling says Henrik wouldn't do that when it comes down to it. She could see that even though he isn't someone who would forgive and forget, he is also not someone who would murder someone for a slight. At the very least, not without knowing the side of the other person's story.

"Also, let's not forget Landon is equally dangerous," Elijah reminds them calmly. "If the boy could do something like that to a bus full of innocent people, think of what would happen to someone he fights head-on."

With that, the screen abruptly turns black. When it comes back again, a name pops up — SOME PEOPLE JUST WANT TO WATCH THE WORLD BURN.

"Oh, that title doesn't look promising... at all." Josh decided when he saw the words appear on the screen. "What was the previous title again?"

"I was too busy seeing a werewolf transformation in the middle of the church to notice it," Jeremy quips.

"I think it's: This is the part where you run," Stefan answers, quirking a brow, unsure. But when a few nod in agreement, he considers he's right on point.

⋆˙★°.⋆✧°.⋆

The Great Hall was loud and noisy when Lizzie and Josie came practically skipping down the staircase. "Let's hit the dining hall and carb load," declares Lizzie, her face glowing with manic excitement. "It's