A/N This is set during 5x07 and, while I don't do anything against canon, none of this was stated in the episode itself and will probably all be proven impossible in the next. But take this as being as canon as you wish.

I was very disappointed in the lack of Kol/Hope scenes in the last episode, given the scene we had 5x01 with Kol and Hope seeming to have a close relationship. With Hayley's funeral, I was expecting Hope to call Kol or Rebekah (or at least mention whether or not they knew if Hayley had died!). So I decided to write this to make myself feel better.

Thank you in advance for reading this one-shot. I haven't written any fanfiction in a while, but I hope I wrote everyone in character.

~RoniMikaelson

Hope felt utterly and completely alone.

Her mother was dead. Gone. Because of her. Because of her stupid plan to bring together a family that was only imploding more and more each day.

Her father couldn't be around her. At this point, she wasn't sure he even wanted to be. He'd sent her back to Mystic Falls with Freya, without so much as a note or phone call. He'd left her aunt to explain how she was never going to see her mom again.

Freya was constantly on the phone, talking to Klaus, Vincent, Marcel, Josh and any other supernatural creature in New Orleans it seemed. In between calls, she tended to slink into Hope's room like a scared animal, ready to bolt if Hope started screaming and throwing things. Which was not as unlikely a scenario as Hope would've liked it to be. She always came bearing gifts of hot chocolate and junk food, almost enticing attempts to get something in Hope's system after she'd been throwing up from crying so hard that morning. But every time Freya retreated back out to the hallway with her phone, head ducked as she gave up once more.

Caroline Forbes-Salvatore had come to try and talk to Hope, but Hope had shunned her quickly. She was just another person that had been there, a person that might have seen her mother's last moments while Hope was uselessly unconscious on the floor. Caroline had taken her yelling and orders to get out like a champion; she was nothing if not well versed in dealing with difficult teenage girls. Still, Hope hadn't understood why she suddenly felt even more lonely and guilty when Caroline surrendered to her commands and let the door click shut behind her.

Alaric Saltzman had come at Caroline's insistence. Though he had always claimed to be terrible with children (and Hope still counted as that, in his mind at least), he had the best luck among them. He had that authoritative dad-voice that Hope had never gotten from Klaus unless they were screaming at each other. She had made herself gulp down some toast and chai tea at his firm suggestion, which got him to pat her on her shoulder and leave her alone once more.

Hope sat on the floor of her dorm room. The bed laden with soft pillows and warm blankets felt too comfortable, too nice, for someone who had caused her own mother's death. She had a suitcase laid out on the floor in front of her, half-packed for her flight home that afternoon. She wondered why she even bothered unpacking anything anymore; she was shuttled back and forth between New Orleans and Mystic Falls so often, and with so little warning.

Instead of packing, she sat staring at the suitcase and going over everything in her head all over again. She felt sick to her stomach all over again; the chai tea wasn't as calming as everyone claimed. Roman. Greta. The binding spell. Waking up, screaming for a mother that would never again come to comfort her...

Hope could hear Freya talking quietly on the phone outside her door; she hadn't looked into the hall, but had figured out pretty quickly that Freya was sitting against her door-frame. The close proximity didn't help Hope's crushing feeling of loneliness. Picking out a few words through the closed door, Hope realized Freya was arranging Hayley Marshall's funeral. Blocking it all out and retreating back to the wonderful numb mindset of denial, Hope tried desperately to find something else to distract herself with.

Her phone was lying on the floor next to her from when she'd been checking the time, counting down the minutes until she had to be on a plane again. She picked it up and got into her speed-dial. That contact list was much shorter than her regular one, which was filled with former-friends and schoolmates who she could no longer be bothered to place a face to the name. The speed-dial was reserved for the important people.

Klaus had been taken off three years ago when she realized he was never going to answer her calls. His number was, instead, buried somewhere deep in her regular contacts, just in case. She supposed she could put him back, now that he was the only parent she had left.

Rebekah had gone even before that. Hope had been ten, not stupid, when she realized that her aunt had been making increasingly frequent excuses for not being able to talk whenever she called. Hayley had tried to assure her it was the same deal as with her father; Rebekah couldn't stand to talk to a niece she would never see again. Somehow, that hadn't made it hurt any less. Marcel had been taken off too, purely in a fit of pettiness that he got to be with Rebekah and she couldn't.

Keelin's number remained; Hope realized she was still in denial about her and Freya's break-up. She vowed to call Keelin and tell her the horrible news. Hope might not need her tough-as-nails werewolf almost-aunt for the funeral, but Freya would. But Keelin wasn't the person that Hope needed to talk to in that moment.

Neither was Josh (despite their friendship, hindered only by Josh's dislike of the rest of her family) or Vincent (who was on her speed-dial as an emergency contact, should Freya and Hayley be unavailable). Declan was tempting, incredibly tempting, but she didn't need another father figure trying to tell her what she should do or that she should eat some food or finish packing or anything else she had been told that day.

Instead, her finger pressed down on the speed-dial for the one person she wanted to talk to more than anything in that moment: Kol Mikaelson.

Pressing her phone to her ear, she closed her eyes and listened to the ringing on the other end.

"Hello?" It wasn't Kol who answered, but Davina was close enough. The last bit of determination keeping the tears back broke and Hope started crying into her hands, phone still kept to her ear with a shaking hand. "Hope?" Davina demanded, the slightest bit of panic in her voice.

"Aunt Davina." Hope choked out.

"Hope, what's wrong?" Davina asked. Without waiting for an answer, she added: "I'll get Kol, okay? Hold on." Hope could hear hurried footsteps on the other side, indicating that Davina was doing just that.

"Mom's... mom's dead. She's gone." Hope managed to get out through a sob. She heard Davina suck in a sharp breath on the other side of the line.

"Hope..." Davina was obviously struggling to figure out what to say. She had never had a good relationship with her own mother as a teenager and had never even known her father, so Davina had never mourned either one. "Hope, I'm so sorry. What... What happened?"

"It's all my fault! It's all my fault."

"Hey, hey, that's not true." Davina didn't know what had happened and Hope wanted to retort with those words exactly. How could she know? But Davina held such conviction in her tone that Hope stayed silent. "Whatever happened, I'm sure it's not your fault, alright?"

Hope nodded, knowing full well that Davina couldn't see the motion, but she didn't trust her voice anymore.

"Kol!" Davina called on the other side of the line and Hope's heart leaped at the thought of actually talking to her uncle. While she doubted his jokes and sarcasm could make her feel better, she was willing to give it a shot. She couldn't feel any worse, after all.

Hope heard a door slam like someone had shoved it closed in a hurry to get somewhere and then there was hushed whispering between Davina and Kol. She waited impatiently, until finally Kol picked up the phone.

"Hope?" There was her uncle. The only member of the family that had taken the Hollow, but still stayed in contact. Still wanted to talk to her, to hear about her life, to tell her about his.

"Uncle Kol... Mom's dead!" Hope wailed and instantly regretted it, waiting for Freya to burst through the door at her loud outburst. But Freya remained on the other side; maybe she had heard the first part and knew that Hope just needed to talk to her uncle alone.

"Alright, darling, calm down." It was hard to; Kol's voice held an uncharacteristic tone of panic. "What happened? Where are you?"

"I'm... I'm at school... with Freya." She heard Kol sigh in relief at that.

"Alright, tell me what happened."

Hope told me everything, starting with the stupid plan to sell her blood that he had encouraged (not that she could find it within herself to be mad at him for that; she'd thought it was brilliant at the time too). She told him about Roman and he threatened to kill him in many horrible ways that didn't make her feel better. She told him about Greta and that was news to him. Apparently Klaus had neglected to mention that story after he'd been undaggered sixty some odd years later. She told him about the binding spell and how Roman had put the anti-magic shackles on her, which made Kol curse and promise he'd find a way to destroy all those bloody things. Finally, she told him what Freya had told her. How her mother had died, to protect her, to protect Klaus. How Elijah had just walked away and let it happen, something that Freya had very reluctantly told her in a cautionary tale about staying away from her uncle.

At the end of her tale, Hope was curled up on the floor in a loose fetal position, hoarse and somehow still crying. Kol had listened throughout and was strangely silent as she finished, making her crying seem even louder and more pathetic. Finally, he spoke again:

"This isn't your fault, Hope. You got that, darling?"

"But I-."

"You are a Mikaelson. You fought for this family and things didn't go your way, but... What happened wasn't your fault, it was something set in motion over half a century before you were born, alright? Don't get your knickers in a knot because someone used you. It happens to the best of us, darling."

"What... what am I supposed to do, Uncle Kol?"

"You're going to get up and do whatever you have to do, whether that be using magic or... or just going to her funeral and paying your respects to your mother. Look, if you need to get away, I'll go wherever I have to and you can come here. You know Davina and I always have a room for you."

"I know..."

"So just get through today and call me, whenever you need me, alright?"

"Okay." Hope sniffed, wiping at her eyes. The tears seemed to have stopped, or at least slowed for the moment.

"Does Rebekah know?" Kol asked hesitantly.

"I don't know." Hope admitted.

"Well, as much as I hate to be the bearer of bad news, perhaps I should call her."

"Okay. I need to pack anyway. I have a plane to catch." Hope agreed, looking at the suitcase still in front of her.

"If you need me-." Kol began to reiterate.

"I'll call." Hope promised.

"Davina's got her phone too, if you-."

"I feel better now, Uncle Kol." Hope told him quickly. It wasn't a lie, either. Maybe what she had needed was just to talk until she was hoarse and cry herself out until the only thing she could do was suck it up and get on her feet again.

"Alright." He gave in with a quiet sigh. As out of his element as he was when it came to comforting people, he seemed reluctant to hang up the phone and leave her to herself again. They both stayed on the line, silent but aware of each other's breathing.

"I need to pack." Hope repeated at last.

"Of course. I'll call my sister. Text me when you land in New Orleans, alright, darling?"

"Okay, mother." Hope tried to joke, but it came out sounding all wrong and she choked back another sob.

"I resent that." Kol told her mock-sternly and that made her feel better all over again. "Goodbye, Hope."

"Bye." The words sounded so final, even though she had just made fun of him for wanting more contact. Kol waited for her to hang up and she did so, letting the phone tumble from her hands onto the floor again. Curling in on herself, she tried not to cry anymore.

She heard laughter from the other hallways, the rooms which she shared walls with... Happy kids. She wanted to scream at them, remind that that the world was cruel and someday they'd be in her position: crying on the floor because they were so broken inside. She wanted to tell them to just shut up. Those were the kids that got to go home to loving families. The ones that did made a family all their own with their best friends. But Hope didn't have a best friend. The closest she'd had was Henry. Who was dead, also because of her. She didn't have anyone to go home to because no where was home without her mother.

Was it too much to ask for Always and Forever? Hope would've given anything for just one more day with her family. Just one, then she could be grown-up and walk away. Or, at least, she wouldn't feel so dead inside anymore.

With a heavy sigh, Hope forced herself to her feet and resumed packing.

Vampires had attacked at her mother's second line funeral.

The lake had caught fire at her burial at sea (or close enough, by werewolf standards).

Her father had said he would never again be by her side in the flesh.

Freya had neglected to call Declan, the closest thing she had to a step-father, so he could be there with her, for Hayley.

To top off a completely miserable day, it was pouring rain as she stumbled back towards the car.

She hugged herself for warmth, head hanging low in exhaustion and grief. Freya was hanging back, talking on the phone to someone again. It didn't sound like a pleasant conversation, but Hope didn't listen hard enough to pick out any specific words. Keelin walked beside her and Hope was immensely glad she'd called her before the plane took off. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed the family that could actually be around her. It took the edge of of the numb loneliness.

"Hope, Keelin!" Freya called, sprinting the last couple of paces to catch up with them. Both women turned, Keelin's arm tightening around Hope's shoulders.

"What's the matter?" Keelin asked, as Hope could only stare at her aunt's panicked face. Freya was still clutching her phone in a white-knuckled grip.

"Something's happened."

"What is it?" Hope demanded hoarsely. She couldn't take another crisis, another problem, not that night.

"I... I don't know exactly." Freya admitted hesitantly, seeing Hope's frustrated and angry expression. "But you and Keelin should stay somewhere tonight, away from the compound."

"We'll get a hotel room." Keelin put in immediately, squeezing Hope's shoulders. "We'll order room service and everything, have a girls night." She tried to put a positive spin on things but Hope didn't even look at her.

"Something happened to dad." She realized, staring at Freya.

"I... I'll figure it out, alright?"

"But-." Hope began but Freya shot her as firm a look as she could manage.

"Go get a hotel room. Don't invite anyone in-." Freya realized her mistake immediately and her expression turned into the one she used when she was trying to find a solution to an impossible problem. Hope just shook her head, shrugging away from Keelin's half-embrace and folding her arms across her chest.

"I'll go to Declan's. I've got the spare key." She decided. If she couldn't go home and Freya wasn't immediately jumping on the idea of sending her back to Virginia, then her best bet was the familiar apartment she had spent many dinners and movie nights at. "He's in Ireland. He wouldn't mind. Might mind not knowing his girlfriend's dead." She shot at Freya, feeling the sudden urge to take a guilt-trip jab at her aunt.

Freya sighed, but didn't take the bait for an argument.

"Alright. You'll be safe there. Call Declan if you need to invite Josh or Marcel in, but don't invite-."

"Anyone else in. We don't know who Greta's minions are. I know." Hope cut her off with an impatient wave of her hand. She just wanted to find something remotely horizontal and pass out on it for the next twelve hours, at least.

"Keelin, can you drive her?" Freya asked, bouncing on her heels, anxious to get moving to solve whatever problem she didn't feel like sharing with Hope.

"Of course." Keelin took Hope's arm. "And then I'm coming to help you." She said firmly. Freya opened her mouth to protest, but Hope and Keelin cut her off at once.

"I'll be fine alone-."

"I'm coming to help you, Freya."

Freya sighed, looking around anxiously, and then nodded in agreement before lunging forward to kiss Keelin and then hug Hope tightly. Once that was done, she took off running towards her own car like the devil was chasing her. Maybe it was; Hope figured that wouldn't be too out of the question with their family's type of problems.

Keelin tugged on Hope's arm and Hope let her led her away, tearing her eyes from Freya as the blonde witch practically threw herself into the car. Hope clambered into the passenger seat of Keelin's car and closed her eyes, only moving to put on her seat-belt when Keelin nudged her and reminded her of the safety first rule.

Hope had apparently convinced Keelin she was asleep during the drive, because the werewolf didn't say a word as they drove. She and Freya had gone on a double date with Hayley and Declan once; she remembered the way to his apartment without Hope's aid. Once they had stopped outside the building, Keelin gave Hope a gentle nudge.

"Hey, sweetie. We're here."

"Fine." Hope ripped off her seat-belt. "Thanks." She added as an afterthought.

"I'll figure out what's going on with Freya and call you later, if I can. Maybe I can bring you some clothes too. Do you want to borrow some of mine?" Keelin was already reaching for the duffel bag in the backseat when Hope shook her head.

"I just want to go to bed. Goodnight." She knew she was being short with Keelin, but she couldn't bring herself to linger any longer. Getting out of the car, she shut the door behind her and ran into the building so she was out of sight.

Jogging up the stairs, she dug her keys out of her pocket as she reached the second floor and jammed the proper key into the deadbolt with a bit too much force. The lock clicked open and she pushed the door open, slamming it shut behind her and barely remembering to lock it again for her own safety. She dropped her keys and phone on the familiar granite counter before stumbling off towards the single-bedroom. Declan, ever the gentlemen, had let her sleep in there whenever she stayed over night, taking the couch himself. She knew her way around perfectly well and slipped into a robotic state as she stepped into his shower in an attempt to wash away the day's events.

After the water had turned ice cold and she was sure she was going to have to apologize for a hellish water bill, she finally turned off the water. Searching through Declan's dresser for a t-shirt to replace her itchy blouse, her eyes fell on a familiar green henley shirt. Her mother's shirt. She yanked it out of the drawer and brought it up to her nose to breathe in her mother's familiar scent.

Gently pulling on her shirt, she crawled onto the bed and curled up, willing herself to sleep and try to forget the day's events.

A knock on the door at five in the morning woke her out of her fitful slumber.

Throwing back the covers, she ran out into the living room and over to the door. Looking out the peephole, she saw an annoyed looking delivery man with a box in his arms, holding up a note to the peephole.

Freya Mikaelson sent me

Hope hesitated for a minute longer, but then unlocked and opened the door a crack.

"Hi?" She said in confusion. He shoved the box towards her and she took it, fumbling with its weight for a minute before she steadied herself.

"I tried to deliver this to your aunt at your residence, but she sent me here. It's already signed for." With that, he left, leaving Hope wondering what exactly Freya did the man to get him to go so far out of his way. Deciding not to dwell on her aunt's tactics, Hope shut the door again and went over to the couch to look at the box. It was addressed to her, at the compound's address. And it was from Kol.

Tearing into the box, first with her blunt fingernails and then with a knife she found in the kitchen, Hope eagerly tore the flaps open as soon as the packing tape was cut away.

Kol had used to send her 'care packages', as they had called the huge boxes Hope had received frequently. Hayley had once said he was spoiling Hope to make up for the lack of attention he had gotten from his own parents and siblings. Hope had just grown up knowing that every birthday, Christmas and at least every other month besides, Uncle Kol gave her nice things. At first, the boxes contained postcards and stuffed animals. Then, as she grew older, expensive art supplies and whatever she complained her mother wouldn't get her, whether it be a new laptop or a three-day pass to Disneyworld (that was a good weekend, despite Hayley's initial annoyance and lecture about asking her uncle for things). Sometimes Davina threw in her favorite movies or books, or some non-perishable junk food from foreign countries.

Now, seeing as this was a package sent after her mother had died, she was expecting something that only Uncle Kol would think to send her. Peering inside the box, she was greeted with the sight of a stuffed rabbit, not unlike the one she had carried around at seven years old. Rolling her eyes but feeling strangely touched, she pulled it out and continued digging through the package. There was an expensive-looking box of chocolates that she decided would become breakfast and, beneath that, a layer of grimoires. She recognized one as a newer leather-bound book. Davina's grimoire.

A note was laid on top.

You wanted to fight for our family. Here's a good place to start.

Hope stared down at it. She had promised herself she would fight for Always and Forever. She would find a way to get rid of the Hollow, once and for all. Freya had said the spell didn't exist. But Kol was saying otherwise. In that moment, she decided to trust in her uncle and accept his help.

She was going to fight for her family, for Always and Forever. Even if it killed her.

A/N Thank you for reading! Please feel free to drop a review and tell me what you think.