Rebel Just For Kicks: Kol Mikaelson [1]

87: Into The Wild

After a moment of silence – a moment of processing what Klaus had said, MJ hung up.

She hung up and looked around the empty road.

She blinked.

The air pulsed out around her, fingers twitching, electrical energy buzzing off the metal of the car, jumping to tarmac and trees alike.

A sharp inhale in.

It stopped.

MJ was still hours from Mystic Falls, her car was totalled, smoke coming from the engine and all the glass completely shattered.

Shards of it had hit her, cutting across her forehead and catching on her clothes: then there were the two broken ribs and the throbbing, potentially dislocated, shoulder.

And Kol was dead.

Dead.

She could barely breathe, unable to differentiate the panic from her straining lungs.

He was an Original Vampire, and he'd had the White Oak Stake – he'd had the one thing that could kill him.

He couldn't be dead.

And if he was dead, then – then well, it –

He was an Original.

He'd been after Jeremy.

He'd been after her friends.

MJ refused to accept that he was dead.

But, she'd felt it.

For a day and a half, her body had been going through it, feeling every type of warning. She'd known a death had been on its way, and then Kol had died.

She'd screamed the death into existence, and her body was slowly flipping back to normal because of it.

The coat, jacket, jumper, AC, and heat warmers were all smothering her now, the injuries from the car crash as the only things keeping her from feeling right as rain.

It had been about Kol.

The hand around her heart, grip crushing it so hard that she'd thought she was going to die had all been about Kol.

Kol was dead.

She closed her eyes and started to mutter.

She couldn't just sit in a wrecked car, in the middle of a two-way road, at night, processing.

She couldn't.

She needed to get back to Mystic Falls.

The spell fixed the car.

MJ yanked the layers off, chucked them into the back, then healed her ribs and shoulder before starting to drive.

Only the injuries that needed the most amount of power and time to fix. Everything else could stay; face and arms stinging with bloody glass.

She needed to feel it.

Her phone screen didn't stop flashing the entire trip back, but MJ didn't want to look at it.

She didn't want to waste time slugging through the cries of the supernatural community to find the messages from her 'friends.' She didn't want to read their gut reactions. Whether they'd apologise or just tell her excuses.

She didn't want to read them.

It had been Kol.

He'd compelled Damon to kill Jeremy, he'd beaten Damon up multiple times, and he'd left a trail of bodies across Europe, hurled Tyler through a doorway, tossed shards of glass at Stefan's head, and he'd broken Matt's hand, and he'd wanted to kill her when they'd first met – but it was Kol.