Maeve Mikaelson

Chapter Thirty-Five

*Maeve Miller* 

She cloaked herself with an anklet the moment she got in her jeep. That was right before she shut off her phone and anything else that could be tracked. 

Damon knew she was alive, and within an hour or two the Mikaelsons would as well. That only gave her so much of a head start, not that she was using it. If anything, she was backtracking. 

Her cat had fallen asleep in her lap thirty minutes into the drive, and Maeve eyed her peaceful state enviously. Maeve was kind of a wreck right now, not that she would allow herself to actually breakdown. Not yet anyway. 

Damon had asked her to get somewhere safe first, and she could only think of one place.

The roads blurred together, and with the lack of GPS, she was really only going in a general direction. Not that it mattered, once she was close, she would know where to go. It just took longer than normal. 

She drove long after the sun dipped behind the horizon, and then kept going. It was so dark that by the time she had reached her destination, only the stars provided light. 

She shut the jeep off and rested her head on the steering wheel. It was probably three or four in the morning, but she didn't come all the way here to be stopped by a fact as trivial as that. 

"Stay here, Chewy." She spoke to the sleeping cat who didn't bat an eye. 

It was cold, typical of October weather this late at night. It didn't bother her though, if anything it was nice. It was something she could use to ground herself.

She stopped at the entrance and stretched her hand to the side. It had been so long since she had grown a sunflower, but the act felt natural. Two long stalks appeared from the ground and she pulled them up. 

Her hands shook as she walked through the gates, and then through the rows of granite until she ended up on top of a small hill, and there, tucked under the tall oak tree, were two headstones. 

Maeve had never been by herself. She had always turned back before it was too late, before the tidal wave of emotions drowned her. Today there was nothing holding her back, just fear. 

She knelt down in front of the long settled dirt and forced herself to look up. The stones were weathered with a little age, but she could still make out the names. 

Here lies Sienna Miller, loving mother and wife. 

Here lies Mark Miller, loving father and husband. 

Her eyes travelled the stone and landed on the quote that was split between the two stones. A soul is not something you own, but something you complete. 

She laughed through the tears. She had told the Salvatores that they were soulmates. Even in death, they stood united. 

"Hey Mom." She spoke after a couple of minutes. "Hey Dad. It's been a while." 

The silence was deafening, and honestly she didn't know what she had expected. She had tried to summon her family hundreds of times, but never once had got an answer. It hurt. She was not used to the dead staying quiet for her. In the past year she had finally learned to shut the voices out. She had learned how to keep her mind, but she would trade every bit of her sanity if it meant she was able to speak to them one last time. 

More tears welled in her eyes as she stared at the ground. Dirt did not speak, it did not even listen. The dirt served to taunt her, and despite everything, she was just a girl without a family. Nothing more, nothing less, but that didn't stop her from pretending for just a moment.