Breathing ∞ Kol Mikaelson [1]

[47]

By the time morning rolled around, Emma found herself alone at home, sitting at the dining table with a multitude of notebooks spread out around her. And in front of her, the one Klaus had gifted her for her birthday. She was scouring her father's journals, having taken all which deal with witches from the Mikaelson the day after she spent the night.

She was writing down any spell she could find, resisting the temptation to use the obsidian her mother had given her to try some of them out. Only in case of emergencies, she continued to repeat in her mind. Distracting herself with magic so she didn't have to focus on everything that happened the night before couldn't really be considered an emergency.

Klaus was dead. And Rebekah, Kol and Elijah had left the town, going god knows where. Each of them alone. Left to their own devices if Alaric managed to catch up with them. To say Emma was still a big ball of nerves would be an understatement. And she was missing Klaus.

They worked their asses off to annoy each other, but it was how their friendship was built. Well, Emma considered him a friend. She could never be sure what was in Klaus' mind at any particular moment. But she liked to think he'd considered her a friend as well. And now, she would never be sure. All because of the damn Salvatores and their incompetence.

"Nope, no. Not going down that road." Emma mumbled to herself. She knew if she did go down it, the Salvatores might find themselves in a bit of trouble, caused by her. And then she'd be the next one in it. "You're a newbie witch, they're out of your league." For now.

And that was why she was here, writing down spells and using her phone to check the correct pronunciations of the words. Not only for some kind of vengeful idea, but also because the Mikaelsons were gone. Emma had promised both Rebekah and Kol, although he didn't know about it exactly, that she'd survive the next six months. And while she'd made her peace with the vampire blood that would involve, she also knew that in her time with them she'd made quite a few enemies in the town.

Damon, the most impulsive of the Mystic Falls bunch, certainly wasn't her fan. And with the Original family gone, Emma couldn't be sure if the rest of the group would still view her as a threat. In case they did, in case they tried something, Emma had to know at least some ways to defend herself. And luckily for her, her father's initial fascination with witches ensured he didn't only write down any possibilities which would be helpful with Emma's disease, but rather anything and everything he learned from them and about them.

The moment her phone started to ring, Emma was repeating the incantation of a cloaking spell, smiling proudly as she deemed her pronunciation right as it should be. She answered the call, smile remaining on her face even if she was somewhat disappointed by the name shown on her screen. It wasn't who she was hoping it would be.

"What's up, blue eyes?" She asked in a happy voice, curious as to why the boy would be calling her. They were somewhat friends, yes, with their little human alliance and what not, but they weren't really on a random check-in calls basis.

"Hey, uh, I could use a bit of help." Matt said, his voice somewhat hesitant. Emma's brows furrowed curiously, about to ask what he needed from her, because, of course, she wouldn't say yes before she knew what it was. However, she didn't need to, Matt continuing on soon after. "My truck's kinda... Out of commission. So I could use a ride."

"Sure, where should I pick you up?" Emma asked. That she could do. Even though she was a bit curious as to why he was calling her of all people.

But then Emma reminded herself about last night. Tyler had died. And while Emma had some anger still stewing within her about his part in Klaus' demise, he was still Matt's friend. And Matt was grieving him. Perhaps he was calling her just because he didn't want to deal with the rest of his friends who were going through the same thing and would rather ignore it for the time being. After all, she was doing the same, so who was she to judge?