I own nothing but my own words.

Chapter 1: May I Have This Dance?

"There. See? I told you. It's him."

"You're out of your bloody mind."

"I'm her mother, I know these things," Hayley said with a content smile.

"Why don't you go back to being at peace and let me watch over her without your input," Klaus grumbled.

"You just don't want to admit I'm right," she said with a gentle smirk.

"I just want her to be happy, there's no way he will do that," Klaus shook his head in disgust. "That other boy is just fine for her."

"Landon is good for a first love," Hayley agreed with that part. "A pure and true first love, he's exactly what she needs now. But he isn't end game. It's too perfect. There's no fire, no passion."

"The other one just tried to kill her, for crying out loud," Klaus argued. "That's not passion. That's hatred."

"He literally just told her he doesn't hate her," Hayley pointed out. "And he didn't try to kill her; he tried to take over her body. To be inside her. If that's not an innuendo, I don't know what is."

Klaus rolled his eyes. "Spare me the insinuation. She doesn't even like him."

"If she didn't like him, would she offer to be there for him in his final moments?"

"She's just being polite," Klaus enunciated. "You raised her to care about other people's feelings, remember? That was definitely all you."

Hayley smiled smugly, as if she knew something he didn't.

"Am I missing something? Do tell," Klaus demanded.

"Yeah, you're missing the part where you admit you like him," she replied.

Klaus sputtered. "Like?! You think I like the guy who tried to kill my daughter?!"

"You only say you like her with Landon because he's the safest option, the least risky. But Landon, while a very nice boy, is not at all someone who would ever earn your respect. The do-gooder townie with a big heart? You would've eaten him for breakfast. He can't protect Hope. She'll spend all her time protecting him. And while she's more than capable of being the 'pants' in any relationship, you want someone for her on her level. Someone who will not only accept her but understand her when it comes to the best and the worst of her. Hope is a Mikaelson. She's a tribrid. One day she will activate her vampire side, and when that time comes, we both know which of those boys are most capable of loving her for all her parts, including her darkest."

"That is preposterous! She will have a great many loves before she finds 'the one' as we both well know. Saying he's the one is a bit premature. He isn't even close to being in her heart," Klaus tried to continue the argument but knew deep down she was correct at least about him liking the mud boy. The kid was resilient and, yes, Klaus found that very admirable. "What makes you so sure he's the one for her? That she'll ever fall for him?"

"It won't be any time soon, that's for sure," Hayley smirked. "But I'm positive it'll happen over time. And as to Hope, well, girls are sometimes drawn to the guys who remind them of their fathers."

Klaus drew himself up. "I am not like that boy at all!"

"Oh, really?" Hayley shook her head. "Daddy issues driven by his need for love and approval coupled with his need for revenge? Feelings of epic loneliness? Struggling to understand love, especially the unconditional kind? None of that sounds familiar to you?"

Klaus glowered at her.

"She may not have seen it at first, but she's putting it all together," Hayley said. "Her compassion won't allow her to judge him too harshly. She's already forgiven him for trying to put his conscious in her. Not because it wasn't a crappy thing to do, but because she understands how desperate he was to survive."

"Well, unless a miracle happens, I think that time has passed…" Klaus said as he saw what transpired between Ryan Clarke and The Necromancer, watching as if it were a dream he shared with Hayley.

"Huh," Hayley murmured thoughtfully as the portal to Malivore closed after the sinking of Clarke's "head".

"I guess you were wrong," Klaus shrugged, feeling strangely disappointed.

"I wonder…"

Hope loved this dream.

Her family was holding a grand Christmas Ball. The Mikaelsons were known for throwing a heck of a party. Everywhere you turned garlands and lights and wreaths and bows hung delicately and joyously. The music played as couples danced. Family and friends mingled. Every guest was dressed to the nines. Men in tuxedos, a veritable wash of black and white, while the women wore the most fashionable of gowns made of the finest material.

If the Hollow had never set her sights on her, if her parents were still alive, this is how she'd spend her Christmas holidays. There was Aunt Freya over in the corner, calling to check in with the sitter while Keelin smiled at her tenderly. Then there was Uncle Kol snagging Davina beneath the mistletoe to steal a Christmas kiss; and, Aunt Rebekah dancing with Marcel, the two staring lovingly into each others eyes, each scarcely believing they were finally, truly, together.

Over by the fountain stood her parents and Uncle Elijah, their conversation must be enjoyable as they were all three smiling and laughing.

Hope smiled, observing them, feeling an inner peace she often felt only in her dreams where her parents were alive and well.

"May I have this dance?"

A hand reached out and clasped hers. She smiled down at the hand, her gaze followed the path from hand to wrist and up the tuxedo clad arm to the face of her would-be dance partner. She was startled to see Ryan Clarke standing there with his smug little smirk.

In real life she would've immediately been cautious, but this was a dream. Her dream. Her favorite dream and nothing could mar it. For whatever reason, she had dreamed him up so, instead of fighting it, she turned to him and reached out with her free hand to rest against his shoulder, allowing him to lead her into the dance.

"What's all this?" he asked, indicating the room.

"Christmas," she replied. "Or rather, what Christmas would be like if my parents were still alive."

He looked around the room, taking it all in. There was a genuine smile on his face. "I think I would've liked to experience this."

"Me too," she murmured. "But…I only get to in my dreams."

"I'm sorry," he said.

"What for?" she shrugged. "I lost my shot at this long before I ever met you."

"You wouldn't be dreaming of Christmas' that never passed if I hadn't insisted you help give me my very first one," he said.

She smiled, bemused. "I don't mind the dream, besides, it was the least I could do knowing you wouldn't survive the night."

"So…about that—" He began to explain something rather important but cut off when he saw she was distracted. "Hope?"

Hope was no longer paying attention to him. She'd spotted her father leaving the party and felt the uncontrollable urge to follow him. She slipped her hand from Clarke's, hardly noticing her actions, and took off after her dad.

Clarke had little choice but to follow. He needed to get her to listen to him, but it was proving difficult as this was her dreamscape. Dreams were tricky things, and this was the new path forming in her mind. So he silently trailed behind her, walking briskly but keeping a distance. He didn't want to spook her.

They went through a set of large doors into a hallway, dark around the edges, with a clear path straight ahead. They passed many doors, but none seemed to draw Hope's focus, not even the oddly glowing blue door that certainly peaked Clarke's interest.

Finally they came upon a scene that gave him pause.

Klaus Mikaelson, the original hybrid, was in the process of tearing a few people apart, ripping out their hearts, the snarl on his face coupled with his gleaming teeth dripping with blood was enough to strike fear in anyone, even giving Clarke pause.

"D-D-Dad?..." It wasn't the voice of a teenaged Hope, it was that of a little girl, even though the person standing in front of Clarke with her back to him was definitely still the older Hope.

Klaus' head whipped up and he took in Hope standing there. He screamed, "GET OUT!"

Clarke watched as Hope seemed frozen, shaking. He didn't know what this scene was—an actual memory, a distortion of a memory, or just her dreams playing tricks on her. Either way, it was a nightmare and clearly traumatizing her which meant he had to intervene if only so he could talk to her before she woke up.

He reached out, placing his hand on her shoulder.

She suddenly turned with a snarl, baring teeth gleaming just as brightly as her father's, plunged her hand into his chest and tore his heart out before he could even gasp her name.

Hope woke with a start, flinging herself up, and breathing hard.

What was that?

She knew the dreams. She'd had both of them before. She knew exactly what they meant. The first was her perfect family Christmas. It was everything she could've ever hoped for. The second was the memory of walking in on her Dad when she was little. She knew that dream usually dissolved into her becoming just as vicious. She had a fear of triggering her vampire side and no longer being able to control herself. She adored her father, but there were many ways in which she didn't want to follow in his footsteps. That was one of them.

No, the part that confused her was that her dreams held Clarke this time. She had the phone conversation with him earlier that night, but he would've been dead minutes after they hung up. While she'd felt a slight twinge of something knowing that he had no one else to turn to in those final moments, there was nothing else she could've done for him. His situation was his own. At least his death meant the portal to Malivore was closed again.

Maybe that twinge she felt was coming through subconsciously in her dreams. She dreamed of Clarke at her perfect family Christmas because she'd just spent a "Christmas" with him. She didn't question that part so much as the part with Dad. Clarke followed her. Why would she dream that? She wouldn't have ever wanted him to know about that particularly violent moment with her father. She especially would never admit one of her deepest darkest fears to Clarke, of all people.

She shook her head. Hopefully that would be the only strange dream she had that night. She glanced over to where Landon slept peacefully in Raf's bed. She was glad her nightmare hadn't disturbed him. She lay down and tried to go back to sleep.

Tossing and turning, she couldn't get comfortable. She could feel this weird hum coming off her skin, almost like a buzz. No matter how she moved, she couldn't calm down enough to make it stop.

She needed sleep because she would have to face Josie again tomorrow. When Landon first ran away, they had talked and gotten to an okay place. But after the events of tonight, when Landon had broken up with Josie for Hope, she knew things were going to get awkward again. She was nervous and just wanted her friendship with Josie to go back to normal. She knew that was asking for the impossible, but if she was going to make it happen she needed rest.

Which proved to be impossible, apparently, so she gave up. If she couldn't get any rest, she would do the next best thing to prepare for her talk with Josie.

She would talk to her.

Well, not really. But talking to prism-Landon always helped. Talking to prism-Josie would definitely go a long way to helping her figure out the right thing to say. Too bad her original prism was destroyed when Clarke jumped into the pit using SimuLandon's body. A day hadn't even gone by before she realized she missed the comfort of having that prism. She'd told Josie she didn't need it anymore, and she thought she didn't, but she was wrong. So, she'd contacted Emma before everyone got so 'merry' for help in creating a new one. Fortunately the supplies were at the school and the spell was easy enough. She had placed it among her meager possessions. Now, she found it quickly before sneaking out.

She set it up in a perfect spot by the dock. Everyone was exhausted from fighting the Krampus and celebrating Santa; the school was quiet as a tomb at this time of night.

She placed the prism on the wood and stepped back as she prepared to talk to her subconscious.

"This works too."

Her head sprang up in shock and she gasped, "What?"

Clarke looked around, stepped gingerly, testing to make sure the ground was solid enough for him. "Very glad you made another one of those prism things."

"What are you doing here!?" she demanded to know. "You should be dead! Did you even close the portal?! Please don't tell me you found another loophole."

"Here's the thing," he sat on the dock edge and dangled his legs quite gleefully over the water. "I don't know what happened. I was getting ready to jump into the pit. I'm pretty sure someone took me out from behind. There was a sharp unexpected pain. I saw a flash of silver, then nothing."

"Then…how are you here?" she was flabbergasted.

"Near as I can tell, it's because of you," he guessed. "Your blood."

Hope grimaced. This wasn't the first time her blood had gotten her in trouble.

"I'm not corporeal," he waved his hand. "I have no body. The next thing I remember is you. I was at this fancy Christmas party. I honestly thought I was in heaven at first. Which is ridiculous, of course," he snickered at himself. "I'm not human, I'm not alive the way most people are alive. I don't get to go to heaven."

"So when you were in my dream…" Hope trailed off, slowly connecting the dots.

"I really was in your dream," he said. "I tried to tell you but you got distracted and left before I could, so I followed you."

"You shouldn't have done that," she murmured, still trying to understand what was happening.

"Sorry?" he shrugged. "You're the one who yanked my heart out of my chest, maybe you should apologize to me."

"Sorry?" she returned sarcastically.

"Besides your father, the blue glowing door was interesting," he hedged his explanation because he really wanted to know what was behind that door.

She glared hard, "You think you're the only one to ever try to take over my body? You're just the only one that didn't succeed."

Clarke paused, momentarily sidetracked by that revelation.

"What?" She sighed. "I was seven, the evil was defeated...eventually. Let's move along because I'm still trying to understand why you were even in my dreams to begin with, and why you're here now?"

"I think putting my conscious into that fake Landon body created a link to you since it was pumped full of your blood. When that body was destroyed, my essence must have sought you out because of that link."

"So now you're, what?" she asked with growing horror. "Trapped in…" she looked at the prism, eyes widening in comprehension, "my subconscious?!"

"Yes," he clapped once. "Bravo! You figured it out."

"Oh no, this is not happening," she backed away in denial.

"Hey, at least there's an easy fix," he stood up. "Just get me another body."

She scoffed, "Oh, yeah, sure, let me just go pick one up at Costco! Are you out of your mind?"

He shrugged. "It's either that, or, well, I guess you're stuck with me."

She groaned.

"I'm sure you can figure something out," he said. "You are pretty clever."

"Gee, thanks," she glared at him. "And what makes you think I'm going to do what you want me to do? How about I find a spell to unlink you? Then you can just, I don't know, exist in the ether!"

Clarke glared right back at her, trying not to show his fear. "Don't do that."

"Why?" she huffed. "Why should I help you? Why would I help you? Forget what you tried to do to me, what about what you've done to Landon and who you've killed to survive? Why should I forget all about that just to give you another chance to do it all again?!"

"Because I can give you information about the merge," he figured that was the most valuable thing he had to barter with.

"I don't believe you," she snapped back, though he could tell her mind was racing, wondering if he could possibly know something useful.

"And I promise not to hurt you or any of your friends," he continued.

"How about anyone?" she exclaimed. "Why not just promise not to hurt anyone ever again? I mean, that'd be just as believable as any other promise from you."

"Hope, I told you before, I'm not a villain," he pointed out. "Before, I did everything I could to help my father thinking I couldn't survive without him. That's why I feared him so much. But look at me now. No body, no mud, no part of him, and yet I'm still here. Just give me a body that doesn't require me to kill to survive, and I won't hurt another living thing again, I promise," he thought briefly, then clarified, "unless it's in self defense but, I mean, that should be allowed, right?"

Hope stared at him in quiet contemplation.

"Please," he said softly. He'd pled with her enough during their acquaintance to know that it was nearly pointless to do so. She would do what was best for her. He was just banking on her friendship with the twins to get her to give in to him just this once.

"I'll think about it," she finally said.

He nodded. At least she didn't flat out deny him.

"So, I guess the prism isn't going to work the way it's supposed to until you're gone, huh?" she looked down at the piece of glowing light. And she'd put so much work into getting a new one, darn it.

"Guess not," he said. "But hold onto it. It's too hard to try to talk to you in your dreams. This is better. Just know that your subconscious does this weird buzzing thing whenever I try to talk to you when you're awake."

"That was you?" she said, exasperated.

"I was trying to talk to you, and you'd woken up," he explained.

"If you'd stopped talking, I could've gone back to sleep, you know," she grumbled.

"Right," he smirked.

She rolled her eyes at the smirk. "Goodnight, Clarke."

"Goodnight, Hope."

She snatched up the prism and deactivated it.

As she stared out into the night, alone…though not really alone… she admitted to herself that she had no idea what to do. Even if she wanted to help him, she didn't know how to create a sustainable body for him. Josie had created the simuLandon body using black magic. Hope figured that was how the link to her blood formed. There's always a repercussion for using black magic. Somehow she knew using black magic to help Clarke would backfire on her again.

Of course, if she decided not to help Clarke, performing an unlinking spell should be easy enough. But what if Clarke really did know something about the merge? He'd lived so many lifetimes, collecting so much information along the way. If anyone would know something, it could very well be him. Could she ignore this chance to help Lizzie and Josie? If Clarke really knew something, even Caroline could come home and the girls could have their mother back.

Hope had a huge decision to make and she was stumped.

And she really didn't like that after everything she'd just been through, Clarke had still found a way inside her. The universe clearly had a sense of humor.

Before she would be able to sleep that night though, she had to make sure the portal to Malivore was really closed. If it wasn't, then she was in for a long night of portal guarding.

She groaned.

To be continued…