Author's notes:

Okay so this is an idea I've been working on for The Originals. It deviates from the season 1 finale and goes in a bit of a different direction from there. The title for the story comes from Florence + the Machine's "Cosmic Love" and the lyrics at the beginning of the story from Florence + the Machine's "Seven Devils".

Prologue: Cannot Be Undone

They can keep me out

'Til I tears the walls`

'Til I take your heart

And to take your soul

For what has been done

Cannot be undone

In the evil's heart

In the evil's soul

"NOOOO!" Klaus roared, straining against the invisible bonds of the witch's holds on him. He was forced to watch uselessly as the little Deveroux bitch sliced the dagger unceremoniously across the neck of the woman who just gave birth to his daughter. The baby in question howled in Hayley's lap just as Genevieve swiftly scooped the child from her mother's dead arms.

Silence vacuumed the space around him as the shock set it. The words the witches spoke after became meaningless, soundless. He could only watch as Genevieve carried his daughter away and a pair of male witches followed behind everyone else carrying Hayley's corpse. He may have been screaming, but he couldn't be sure. The silence was deafening.

With a flick of the young Deveroux witch's wrist, his neck snapped and he was out before he hit the church floor.

The sound of the doors bursting open were the first thing he registered as he came back to life.

"Hayley!"

He groaned, clutching his neck. He growled out loud as the events leading up flashed through his mind. "She's gone . . ." He breathed deeply and painfully as his spine healed itself.

He felt a force grab him by the lapels of his jacket and slam him against the wall. Elijah's eyes bore into his. Fury radiated off the elder Originals in waves. "Where is she." The words were spoken calmly but Klaus knew his brother was anything but.

Klaus gasped for air, the scent of blood burning his nostrils. "T-The witches . . . they took her. She's not . . ." He closed his eyes and he could see it all again – the blood bubbling from Hayley's neck, their daughter's furious cries, the witches triumphant smiles . . .

"And the child?" Elijah's voice cracked.

"They're going to sacrifice her . . ." Klaus's strength was beginning to return but he couldn't shake Elijah's death grip.

"The cemetery." Elijah's hand released and Klaus dropped to the floor. "They'll perform the ritual there."

The two brothers left the church without another word or thought, determined to save the child where they'd failed her mother.

OGOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOG

She stumbled along the alleyways in the dark corners of a surprisingly quiet Bourbon Street. Her gums throbbed, confusion settled in her bones, and her heart ached for the baby daughter she'd only had mere moments with.

Hayley bit back tears, a desperate determination taking over. She had to get to her daughter. She had to find her little girl and tear those witch-bitches to a million pieces. Nothing else mattered to her right now.

Thankfully she didn't encounter anyone on her way through the dark streets but that was probably better right now, considering the rage coursing through her veins. She wasn't strong enough to face any enemies nor could she explain to a human why she was covered in her own blood but had no injuries. Not to mention the vague taste of sweet blood on her lips . . .

When she'd first awoken (strung out in a ditch on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere) she'd been able to sense her daughter's presence – almost like they were linked. It drew her back to the city even though she had no idea where she was.

The link felt weaker now, though. She'd also discovered fangs in her mouth and her pulse was gone. She was a hybrid – something she'd never ever wanted to be. She wasn't sure how she'd finished the transition – though there had been blood on her lips when she woke up. She'd heard Elijah and Klaus discuss the process of hybrid transitions and she herself had witnessed one when Tyler kidnapped her. Before that she'd heard from Tyler and the other hybrids she'd helped before and after she went to Mystic Falls. It didn't quite make sense that she'd completed the transition – wouldn't it have had to be her daughter's blood that would finish the transition? Although since she awoke in transition anyway it had to mean that carrying her daughter meant that they shared blood – so her daughter's blood was in her system when she died. Did that mean that ingesting her own blood after her throat had been slit (that still had her daughter's in it) when she awoke completed the transition? The thought alone gave her a headache.

A sight on the side of a building up ahead caught her eye – she felt drawn to it. There were hundreds of photos tacked on the wall and pictures of people, flowers, and candles scattered on the sidewalk in front of it – words and phrases everywhere. A few of the printed faces were vaguely familiar – some the vampires from Marcel's crew? The phrase ' we will always remember' was drawn above all the images on the brick wall.

Were these all the people who'd died at the hands of the witches and Francesca's pack?

A gasp escaped her lips as a framed image branded itself into her mind . . . the carved framing, the image of an infant angel . . . in memoriam baby Mikaelson and her beloved mother . . .

A strangled cry released itself from her lips and she sank to her knees. Was she too late? Had the witches already . . . no . . .

Despite the fact that all of her strength was gone, she found her legs carrying her toward the Mikaelson compound. She had to know if it was true. She had to find Klaus and Elijah – surely they would know the truth.

She could hear voices from within . . . was it Klaus and Cami?

"Klaus?!" Cami was crying. "The baby?"

From the outside Hayley tensed, her entire body frozen.

"She died." Klaus's voice cracked and Hayley's heart broke in two. "A few hours after the Guerrera attack . . . A-and Hayley too . . ."

All of the air around Hayley closed in on her. She was too late. Her daughter was dead . . . Tears streamed down her face. The precious life that she'd carried in her womb for nine months was gone – the witches had won. She couldn't even process the fact that they thought she was dead too . . .

She stumbled her way away from the compound, away from the Mikaelsons, and away from New Orleans . . . intending never to return . . .

to be continued . . .