Bloom || HOPE MIKAELSON x RYAN CLARKE

8] AND THEN THERE WERE NONE

When Freya had told him the plan, reluctance had seemed like the only logical option.

But if Hope truly wanted to go through with this, he had no right to stop her.

That was the main reason why he was pacing around the altar of Saint Anne's church, worried out of his mind and lost in schemes.

Hope was kneeling on the floor and proceeding to apply some dark goo on her uncle and father's unconscious bodies with a practiced touch, preparing them for whatever ritual was about to take place.

''I really don't think this is a good idea.'' Ryan made his opinion known yet again, drawing another sigh from her.

She turned to her father and brushed his hair out of his face before stepping out of the chalk square nearly embedded in the floorboards.

''You've made that pretty clear already, but I need you to trust me,'' she walked around the altar to take a gentle hold of his collar. He put his hands over hers before she could reveal the sludge he had yet to tell her about, ''Please, Ryan. Everyone is turning their backs on me. I can't have you do the same.''

He nodded slowly, realizing just how taken he was with her. She had him wrapped around her finger. He could never deny her anything.

''Ouch,'' a voice broke the spell and they broke apart to welcome Freya in their get-together to rid the Mikaelsons of the Hollow once and for all.

''And Freya,'' Hope added to her speech. She took her aunt in a hug and stepped back to glance at the bodies, ''Thank you again for helping.''

''Don't worry. You should probably thank them too though.''

She cast a glance at the unwilling hybrids that were sat quietly on the pews near the bodies. Only two remained, the other three having left to gather Kol and Rebekah's bodies from the other side of the world. Hope sighed, resuming her task.

''I'll have to go in too,'' Freya declared solemnly, catching their attention.

''What? Why?''

''If the entire family's there but me, who do you think they'll blame? Besides, someone's got to keep them occupied while you do the spell. That is, if you're sure about this.''

''I am.'' Hope nodded, rising from the floor, ''Let's do this.''

Freya met Ryan's gaze as she sat on the floor to lie down. A quick flick of Hope's wrist and the witch succumbed to sleep. In that moment, Hope truly was the powerful tribrid that he'd met in 2030 and the sight made him grin as well as dread the next few hours. Would this be the end? The day to shape her into everything that she would one day become?
He didn't think it could get any worse after his failed attempt at saving her mother's life, but as he knew, fate had its ways.

''What?'' she grinned back and broke him from his thoughts, picking up a chalice and resuming the spell.

''Nothing. You're just really powerful.''

''Don't tell me you're scared now?''

''Hardly. It's kind of hot actually.'' he could only believe the words had left his mouth once she blushed and looked away, the grin never wavering from her face.

He could tell that the hybrids on the long rows of pews were judging him silently and he smacked himself inwardly, but as if sensing his unease, Hope sent them away.

The precise moment the door closed on them, another man barged in the church, drenched in blood from head to toe.

''Oh my god, Marcel! What happened?'' Hope asked, inspecting him for any injuries.