Um, hi? *Ducks to avoid all the shoes y'all rightfully probably wanna throw at me* Sorry for disappearing for so long, I really have no excuses. Real life is hectic and annoying but y'all deserve better, I'm sorry. If you're still reading, I love and appreciate you more than I can say and I really hope you enjoy this chapter. I promise to try and not disappear for so long ever again. Really, y'all are the best.

Read, review and enjoy!

"Alright, who's dying?"

Marcel blinked. "I'm sorry, what? Hope, that is really not a great conversation starter, what are they teaching you in that school of yours?"

"Something about being a functional member of society if you ask my teachers," the witch responded, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, I know you're still in New Orleans, so who's dying?"

Marcel really wasn't sure how to respond to that. Eventually he settled on a confused "no one?"

"Well, something's going on," she huffed. "And I don't trust Mom to tell me and since Dad has a history of making bad choices in the name of family, I can't trust him not to lie to me either."

"Wait, is this because Klaus isn't in town?" There was silence on the other end and all of a sudden everything fell in place. "Geez, kid, he's gone to visit Kol 'cause he and Davina are in the process of adopting a kid. Believe me, the only weird thing about that situation is how excited your dad seems to be about it."

The teenager blinked and then blinked again. "That's it?" An emphatic 'yeah' and Hope exhaled loudly. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. You do know your father's survived a millennium of people trying to kill him, right?"

"Well, he hasn't exactly had the best track record these past fifteen years," the witch muttered and Marcel winced.

"I know, but we'll work on it, your mom and I. I promise."

"You better," she huffed, settling down to shift the conversation to the everyday grievances of school life.

Sunlight filtered through the crack in the curtains, dust particles dancing in the rays and a light kiss on her forehead gently tugged her away from the warm embrace of her dreams. "Not yet," Hope murmured as she snuggled deeper into her blanket. She was rewarded with a small laugh and fingers running through her hair, the touch soft but insistent as a weight settled onto the edge of her bed and the witch couldn't help the smile the drifted onto her lips as she caught the comforting scent of her mother's perfume.

"There's way too much to do for you to be sleeping in, baby girl!" Hayley informed her, grinning at the way the child groaned.

"Not yet, Mama, please?"

"Alright, but don't blame me when we don't have time to make cookies," the she wolf teased, laughing as her daughter shot upright, dislodging her hand and resulting in her pillow falling to the floor. "Oh, that's what gets you up? I see how important I am!"

"But cookies, Mama! Cookies!" The eight year old waved off her mother's words with the easy carelessness that only children are capable of and Hayley couldn't have helped the laugh that burst through her if she'd tried. Hope, never one to let an opportunity pass by her, grinned at her mother's mirth. "We should have a pajama day!"

"I think not, you little terror," Hayley said, flicking the child on her nose as Hope pouted. "But," she drew the word out, enjoying the delight that immediately lit up her daughter's face, "we can have a pajama morning - if you get up right now." And she laughed again as Hope practically fell out of her bed in her haste, grabbing ahold of Hayley's hand and dragging her downstairs to the kitchen.

The memory came to Hayley as she shoved a tray of cookies into the oven to bake, and she wondered if every mother had allowed those ordinary days of childhood to slip by as she had, wondered what she would do if she ever got them back. She started as Freya bumped her shoulder lightly, drawing her out of her reverie.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"Just reminiscing," she smiled softly. "Hey, I think that we should give ring shopping another go today. Your perfect ring is out there, somewhere, waiting for you - I can feel it." The memory of those early days faded to the background as Freya began planning, waiting to be pulled out again on a rainy day.

A knock on his study door had Kol nearly upsetting the crystals he was examining, the vampire just catching one before it fell to the floor and shattered into a million pieces. He held in his exasperated sigh as his brother entered almost immediately after knocking - David at least had the decency to wait for permission. Nonetheless, Kol was quite certain he held in his annoyance adequately as he asked Nik what he wanted.

"I don't suppose you had anything particular in mind for dinner," the hybrid began with an innocent smile and Kol found himself holding back another sigh as he replied that he did not. "Wonderful," Klaus beamed. "Then I don't suppose you'll mind my taking over your kitchen today." It wasn't a question; the vampire raising an unimpressed eyebrow, receiving a grin as his only response before his brother swept out of the room as abruptly as he had come in, the closing door nearly sending that same crystal to the ground again.

Now, had it been anyone else with whom this had taken place, at any other time, perhaps Kol would have told himself to let sleeping dragons lie. He would have chosen to dismiss the situation entirely in favour of his work. But this was Nik. In his kitchen. The vampire wouldn't call himself a pessimist - certainly not on any day that was not a Tuesday - but he also wasn't one to tempt Fate unnecessarily. At least, not in his own home.

So, a little over an hour after Nik had come barging into his study, Kol found himself giving up on his work as a lost cause and took the stairs two at a time as he made his way to the kitchen. The rest of the house was entirely too quiet and the vampire assured himself that it was not paranoia but caution that drove him. Still, he wasn't quite prepared for the scene that greeted him as he stood in the doorway of the kitchen.

David was seated on the counter, Nik presenting him with a spoon and asking him to taste something. They were surrounded by a number of things, placed apparently haphazardly and ranging from what appeared to be a bowl of chopped vegetables to butter to a pastry tin lined with paper. There were, in addition to this, a number of pots and pans that Kol could not make heads or tails of, at least not at a cursory glimpse. "I'll be very upset if you're poisoning my kid," he said when he finally found his voice.

His brother laughed and looked at David, who had his nose scrunched up in consideration, before turning to Kol. "Not today, I think," he replied with a quick grin. "It's a Tuesday after all. Why tempt Fate?" However, before Kol could respond to that wonderful insight, David interjected to inform them that whatever it was that Nik was cooking needed more salt. Further inquiry led to the discovery that this was soup - a fact passed along with the most disappointed of gazes as Klaus informed his brother that David was clearly a heathen of the worst sort. He dipped another spoon into the soup as he spoke, passing it to Kol, the vampire humming as he sent Klaus a pitying look.

"I'm going to have to agree with David on this one, Nik…," he said, trying and failing to hide his mirth as Klaus loudly expressed his displeasure with the both of them, turning to attend to another dish and pointedly not adding any salt to the soup.

While Kol had to stifle a laugh at his brother's pettiness, however, David had already moved on, turning to the vampire with outstretched arms, making the universal indicator of children everywhere that he wished to be picked up. "I'm pretty sure you're too old for this," Kol informed him, moving closer regardless of the fact.

"But I'm sick," came the somewhat pathetic response. It was further accompanied by an equally pathetic cough and overly innocent eyes. The vampire snorted, rolling his own eyes and picked him up anyway, David curling happily into his side and resting his head on Kol's shoulder, the effect not unlike a koala. "I like Uncle Nik," he whispered. "He makes good soup, even though it doesn't have enough salt." If the man in question overheard, he did a decent job of pretending he hadn't, something Kol was grateful for even as he ruffled the kid's hair and agreed quietly. With that, the kitchen fell into companionable silence, broken only by the clutter that followed moving pans and pastry tins and, eventually, David's snores when the boy fell asleep on Kol's shoulder.

Somewhere in between putting David to bed and helping with dinner, the two of them found time to talk and Kol is hit with the realisation that this large and rather unnecessary spread before them was the result of unvented stress. And he smirks as something occurs to him. "You know," he began slowly, "as a wise man once told me, you should really learn to ask for help."

He was still laughing when Klaus threw a stick of butter at him.

Quick note, Klaus was making potato and leek soup, roast chicken, quiche and open faced salmon sandwiches. It is 1 am and I am wanting this. Also, is there anything better than Kol realising Klaus stress cooks? I think not!

My notes for this did actually include Kol giving some advice for the situation with Hope but when it came to, I just wasn't certain how to fit it into the scene without bogging it down. Suffice it to say, he did give advice and he was rather insistent on the fact that it would probably help settle the kid if she knew her parents were together again.