"i'm just trying to help you! at least save some broken remnants of your innocence!"
"my innocence? oh god dad, that's long gone!"
or
in which mercy mikaelson is dealing with all the things that make growing up so hard.
{season 5}
{book 2}
compl...
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| runaway (n): a person who has run away, especially from family or an institution |
MERCY WAS WIDE-EYED, staring at Hope as if her sister had just grown two heads. Elijah looked toward her, raising his eyebrows, before he walked to her sister, placing a hand on the young girl's shaking shoulder. Hope was bent on her knees, breathing heavily as the gold in her eyes finally receded, giving her sight back. She was clearly shaken, and clearly afraid.
Mercy didn't know what to think. The sudden surge of power from Hope triggering her curse was exhilarating. It was otherworldly, but Mercy knew—deep down—that it wouldn't last. She could already feel the connection to Hope becoming poisoned, seeping with dark magic and an evil that Mercy knew all too well. She could feel the Hollow, clawing and screaming and desperately trying to reach Mercy's power through the connection.
Normally, the werewolf bond would've felt beautiful, but now, it only felt cruel and raw and ferociously ruined. Mercy could hardly look in Hope's direction, needing to take a few steps back as if to distance herself from her twin and the darkness that lurked inside of her. Mercy didn't want to feel this way about her sister, but it wasn't like she could ignore the sick, twisted way that the Hollow latched onto the werewolf bond. She couldn't ignore the consequences of Hope's curse being triggered. She couldn't ignore the deep dread that danced across her lungs, stomping out the air and leaving her breathless.
She couldn't ignore feeling as if she had just signed her sister's death sentence.
"Mercy," Elijah snapped her out of her thoughts, and he was worried. The concern was displayed like a neon sign, and it only reminded her that she was hanging by a thinning thread. "Are you alright?"
Mercy shook her head, unable to speak. Even if she knew every single word in the English language, she still wouldn't be able to find the right ones to encompass how she was feeling. She wouldn't be able to pick out the right adjectives, the correct verbs. She was mute, unable to communicate and unfortunate enough to be aware of it all. It was like her tongue was non-functional, and all she could do was stare at Elijah dumbly.
Her uncle, as a response, shook his head, approaching her. It was as if the first step he took suddenly shot through her body, and she was able to form words once more.
"Take her to the Abattoir," Mercy told him firmly, and she had to admit that her voice sounded numb even to her own ears.
"And leave you here?" He asked, gesturing around the ruined church. Hope had certainly done a number on the place. "Absolutely not. Not when you are in need of help—"
"Elijah, I appreciate everything you've done and continue to do," Mercy told him tightly, eyes shooting to his and narrowing. "But I need you to take Hope home right now. That's how you can help me."
He looked conflicted, his morals and emotions at war with one another behind his eyes. But Mercy knew that her uncle was aware of Hope's curse being broken, and she knew that he would never let any harm come to her after what he'd done to them. So, it wasn't surprising when he eventually nodded, following her command and returning to Hope's side. He softly rubbed her back, helping her to her feet.
