Breathing ∞ Kol Mikaelson [1]

[32]

Emma wasn't sure what she was expecting that morning. Her birthdays were usually a lighthearted and happy event, full of candy which was usually shared with children showing up at their door in their Halloween costumes. But today was different. When she and her mother finally sat down together in the living room for breakfast, she wasn't sure where to start or what to ask. It was ironic when you think about it. All this time she spent searching for answers to her questions, and yet now, when they were served up on a silver platter, Emma couldn't help but wonder if she truly wanted them.

"As promised, you can ask me whatever you want. I'll tell you everything." Marissa broke the uncomfortable silence as she made her promise. For as long as Emma could remember, even before everything changed, there was one rule in their family that they always stuck by and never broke. If you make a promise, then you keep it.

"When did you find out about vampires, and witches and all the other things?" Emma asked curiously, deciding to start out with something easy. Whatever the answer was, she knew she could take that one. It didn't really matter much in the grand scheme of things.

"I was born in New Orleans and lived in the French Quarter up until I was a teenager. It's a hard thing to ignore." Marissa admitted and while she didn't say it directly, it was clear what her words meant. She'd known about the supernatural world her whole life. "Your father found out shortly before we learned you were sick, during Katrina and its aftermath. A lot of the witches were using their magic to help rebuild the city, the vampires too."

Emma remembered that time, even though it was years ago. Seeing all the people in the streets, everyone helping and working together as they all united after the tragic hurricane hit them. She doubted she'd ever forget it.

"However, we didn't interact with that world much. Not until we needed their help." Marissa added on, Emma nodding her head in understanding. She knew what her mother meant by needing their help. They needed help for their sick and dying daughter.

"Did you search as much as dad did?" Emma couldn't help but ask. She had all of her father's research, everything he learned about all kinds of creatures roaming through New Orleans. She couldn't help but wonder whether her mother was the same way.

"Having grown up around the supernatural world, I was much more aware of its dark sides than your father. It made me more hesitant to get involved with it again." Marissa admitted, somewhat ashamed, obviously holding regrets about that choice now. Emma noticed it too. She wondered why, but instead of asking, she let her mother continue. She'd ask later if she didn't get the answer through the story.

"Your father took most of the work upon himself, and I took care of you. Took you to your appointments, made sure you were taking your medication, watched over you." Marissa said. The roles of her parents were quickly becoming clear. While her father searched for answers, her mother took care of Emma, making sure she wouldn't get worse before they actually had something.

"We asked the witches for help first, wanting to find the solution in something natural." Emma's brows furrowed a bit at that. She wasn't sure how exactly a witch could be better than a vampire or werewolf. But then again, the most experience Emma had with a witch was Esther, and that one seemed like a raging lunatic. But that's just one witch of many.

"I know, some of dad's journals resemble grimoires more than anything else." Emma spoke for the first time in a while, remembering how many of the dad's initial journals focused on the witches the most. Which was surprising considering all of his records said they weren't too happy to give away information. "And when you didn't find something that the witches could do, you turned to vampires."

"Yes. Thanks to an old friend of mine, they were more than willing to help." Marissa said, for a moment, a small smile appearing on her face as she spoke about said friend.