Heathens ➶ The Originals

twenty-five ; so we meet again

Trumpets were playing in the distance on the bright sunny New Orleans morning as two teenagers and one thousand year old posing off as twenty-ish were sat on a bench.

"Have I told you that you're awesome?" Josh, who in the past ten minutes they had been sitting there managed to get Emery to laugh a record of five times, told Davina. He was wearing sunglasses and staring up at the sun in disbelief. "Because you are, along with the sun, daylight rings," he glanced down towards his own. "That guy jogging in the tank top."

Davina couldn't pay attention, too caught up in her own thoughts, "Josh, now that you have a ring, I think you need to leave town."

Josh sat up, taking his sunglasses off, "Whoa, wait. We're breaking up?"

"I'm serious."

"She's serious," Emery added in.

"Yeah. I know. Serious is kind of your default setting, which is why you need me around to lighten you up," Josh pointed out.

"All valid points. He's like the light in the never-ending darkness of New Orleans. He's entertained me more than any other supernatural creature in this town, and I've only really interacted with him in the past fifteen minutes," the blonde backed him up.

"Ergo, not leaving," he concluded.

Davina glances behind them, zoning out as her eyes focused in on something before snapping back to attention. "Hey, you okay?"

"Just witch stuff," the brunette eyed Emery, who raised her hands in mock defense.

"I can't tell when I'm not wanted," she flipped them both a grin. "I'll go find a Mikaelson to piss off. That always leaves me in high spirits."

---

"Joseph!" Emery shouted, running over to his bedside. His eyes were closed, but he was twitching as if experiencing the after effects of a bad drug dose or, in this case, a wicked nightmare. "Joseph!"

His eyes sprung open, jumping up and wrapping a hand around his sister's neck. It didn't take long for her to unravel his grip and fling him on the other side of the bed. His heavy breaths led her to believe he wasn't completely aware of his state. She didn't try approaching him again until he calmed down.

Even then, her movements were still hesitant, not wanting to set off her brother. A million thoughts raced through her mind on what he could have been experiencing. Did the witches get antsy and place a curse on him? Was he high? None of her theories added up in her brain, though she continued thinking them.

With bloodshot eyes, Joseph looked up at her, "I saw her."

"You saw who, Joseph?" He didn't respond. "Look at you. You've probably gone off and gotten yourself messed up again."

"I'm not high! I know what I saw!" Joseph yelled, springing up.

Emery stepped back, blinking her eyes in shock at her brother's state, "It was a dream, Joseph, a nightmare."

"No, it wasn't," he shook his head adamantly. He seemed so sure that Emery almost believed him on the spot. Her brother rarely lied to her, and when he did, a silly little grin always gave him away. No hint of humor could be seen.

"Who did you see, Joseph?"

"Mom."

---

Her initial reaction was to leave the room. Joseph was so shaken up about his 'dreams' that Emery knew she wouldn't be able to get much more out of him.

By the time she got down to the bottom floor of their hotel, Emery had decided on going to the witches. If anyone could explain freaky visions and hallucinations of dead people, the witches were your girls. Granted, they were usually placing hexes on people to see the dead.