Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Camille hadn’t been sure what to expect when she died. She’d died as a vampire, so she wouldn’t get a normal afterlife. No Heaven or Hell for her, if Klaus was to be believed. There was an Other Side for supernatural creatures, but that got destroyed. And Kol had ended up in the ancestral well when he died most recently, but he’d been a witch at the time so that could’ve influenced things.

So, where does Camille O’Connell, bartender turned supernatural therapist turned vampire turned corpse end up?

As a ghost, as far as she could tell.

She could see everything in the compound, though she couldn’t leave it. It’s like there was an invisible wall that anyone but her could pass through. She could see Klaus and Hope and the rest of the family she’d started to consider her own. She could watch, but she couldn’t interfere. It was almost cathartic, getting to rant and rave at everyone without any consequence, but it was just as infuriating that she couldn’t change anything, that she couldn’t help.

She watched as the family crumbled under the weight of the prophecy to destroy them all. She watched as Klaus stood trial to his sireline. She watched has he gave up everything for the sake of his family, for his daughter. She watched as Klaus suffered alone for five years, struggling through starvation and torture with the hope that one day, he could be with those he loved once more. She watched, because there was nothing else she could do.

She spent most of those five years in the basement with him, only leaving on occasion to yell at Marcel whenever he felt like visiting his prisoner. She sat with Klaus, offering comforting words and stories from her own childhood, stories she never got to tell him, stories she wished he could hear.

Sometimes, Klaus looked right at her and spoke to her. Sometimes, she got to tell him he wasn’t alone. Sometimes, she wished to touch him too, to hug him and stroke his hair and kiss him.

Just as often, he would speak to a version of her that only existed in his mind. She answered his pleas for help regardless of who he was talking to.

When his family returned, united again after a five year nap, she cried with joy. Even when she remembered she couldn’t follow him, her smile didn’t fade.

He deserved to be happy. He deserved to be with his daughter, his family. That was all that mattered.

She knew something was wrong before they returned a week later. She felt something new enter this world- or something old, she couldn’t tell. But she knew it was dark, she knew it was strong, and she knew it was only here to cause trouble.

Once again, all she could do was watch.

She watched as they returned. She watched as Klaus struggled with his own inner demons to be the father Hope deserved. She watched as Elijah failed to conceal the cracks in his own psyche. She watched as Vincent battled against a darkness he felt responsible for. She watched as Hayley threw herself in all directions, trying to salvage the family she had just saved.

And watch was all she could do as, for the first time in 1000 years, the Mikaelsons caved to a threat they couldn’t fight.

When she overheard Vincent’s plan to separate the family, destroy always and forever, she knew there had to be a better way. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair that their happiness should be stolen after fighting so long. It wasn’t right that Klaus should have to abandon his daughter after he waited so long to meet her. It wasn’t right that the family should have to leave their home after fighting so hard to save it.

She had to do something. She didn’t know what she could even do, but she had to try.

“Alright, look, I don’t know what counts as upper management around here but I need to talk to someone!” she demanded, staring at the sky with all the rage of a proper Mikaelson. “You stuck me here and forced me to watch everything fall apart, you damn well better give me a way to fix it! This can’t be how it ends!”

“This is the only way, child.”

Camille whirled around and saw and elderly woman standing behind her. Her hair was gray and wispy, her limbs were thinner than chopsticks, and she looked as if a strong wind might blow her over. But the way she carried herself, proud and tall, told Cami all she needed to know.

“You’re a witch.”

“I am one of the ancestors that watches over this city,” the woman confirmed. “We’ve tried to contain this spirit for centuries, you know. But so long as it remains whole, it cannot be defeated. It’s just too strong. Dividing it up was the only way to keep it in check, and even then we nearly lost control. This is our best plan.”

Camille’s eyes narrowed. “You told Vincent about this plan.”

“Yes. Unlike some people in this city, he respects his ancestors, even if he does not always like us.”

“Tell him to call it off! This can’t be our only option!”

The witch sighed. “My child, don’t you think we’ve exhausted every other option? We’ve been fighting this battle much longer than you’ve been witness to. If there was a way to rid the world of this spirit, we would’ve done it by now.”

“There has to be something!” She insisted. “A spell or an attack or something. I mean, it’s just one spirit from one witch. Surely if enough of you got together-”

“The amount of power required for that would be too much,” the witch said. “It would need to be a massive amount of power channeled through a willing conduit. And there’s no guarantee the conduit would even survive…. It’s a risk that no one is willing to take.”

“I am!”

The witch blinked at her, then smiled like a kindergarten teacher wrangling an unruly brat. “You don’t know what you want to agree to, child. What you think you want to risk. Even if you were to survive, there’s no telling what you would be like after. You may be fine… or you may be little more than a doll, your soul wiped out by the sheer amount of power coursing through your entire being. Would you put them through the pain of knowing what you gave up to save people who have cast so much darkness over the world?”

Cami clenched her fists and held her chin high. “I don’t care. They would’ve done the same for me.” For all their faults, they were loyal. Dangerously so. “That little girl deserves a proper family. If getting rid of that thing will ensure that, I’ll do it.”

The witch’s smile did not falter, but something dark flickered in her eyes. “I was really, really hoping you would say that. I knew you were special.”

She was too committed to doubt her choice, though her confidence waned at the look on that witch’s face. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

The witch held out her hand. “Come with me, child. You have a lot to prepare for.”

-----------------------

The moment Klaus stepped into the courtyard for this final moment with his family, he resolved not to take his eyes off his daughter for one second of it. It would be the last time he would ever see her.

This was for the best, he kept telling himself. This way, Hope would live. She would be safe. She could have the full, peaceful life she deserved, not burdened by the blood and sin of her family, of her father.

It pained him more than anything to do this, but he had to. If there was one gift he could give her, one single correct action as a parent he could do, it would be this.

As Vincent finally removed the spirit of the Hollow from Hope, Klaus felt ready. At least, that’s what he told himself.

But before the ritual could be completed, a bright white light blocked out the blue light the Hollow cast over all of them. When the light finally cleared, Klaus searched for Hope. Relief filled him at the sight of her still in her mother’s arms. He never would’ve looked away if not for Elijah’s hand on his arm.

“Niklaus,” he whispered. “Look.”

He followed Elijah’s prompting and looked to the side.

What he saw, he could not explain. If his most trusted sibling hadn’t told him of it, he might’ve believed it was a vision, a hopeless daydream. As it was, he simply didn’t understand it.

Camille- his Camille- was there. Alive, breathing (well, screaming), and fighting with a ferocity that would’ve made anyone wonder if she’d ever truly died at all. She wore a white dress that reminded Klaus of popular depictions of angels.

Beautiful. Powerful. Vengeful.

“You don’t get to have this!” she was shouting. “You don’t get to destroy everything they built, everything they fought for! You are a void! And you will never, ever be happy.”

The Hollow, back in the form of a little girl, was grinning as she dodged another punch. “And how can you be sure of that? What can you do, human?”

“I can blast your ass all the way to Hell, that’s what I can do!” She adjusted her stance, cupped her hands together, and raised them in front of her chest. There was a beat where nothing happened, a beat where Klaus considered interfering, saving her from what would be certain death (again).

Then, the earth shook, a piercing whistle filled the air, and a pure, blinding white light burst from Camille’s hands.

When the light cleared, the Hollow was gone, nothing left but a smoldering black mark on the stone where she had been standing.

Camille was still there. She was panting and swaying on her feet, but she was still there. Still standing. Still breathing. Still beautiful.

“I did it,” she whispered. “It’s over.”

Then, she fainted. Klaus sped over to her, catching her just before her head hit the ground.

“Camille?” he begged softly. “Camille, look at me.” He cradled her face with his hand. “Please, look at me….”

She groaned softly, but opened her eyes with a smile. “Klaus….” With a burst of energy he didn’t expect, she shot up and kissed him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him like he was going off to war, like she would never see him again.

He couldn’t help but return the favor. If he kissed her and never stopped, she couldn’t die again.

Too soon, Camille broke the kiss. She sighed and smiled at him again before her eyes slid closed once more.

Klaus closed his eyes and rested their foreheads together. He listened to the sound of her heartbeat, and waited for the dreaded moment when it would stop once more.

“Niklaus?”

He heard Elijah kneel beside him, and Rebekah joined on his other side. “Is she….” his sister wouldn’t finish the thought.

He did not answer, waiting for her heart to slow and stop. It was taking longer than he thought.

“Niklaus,” his brother tried again. “Niklaus, I don’t think she’s dying.”

Of course she’s dying. Everyone dies.

“I think he’s right,” Rebekah said softly. “She… She’s not dying. I can still hear her heart. It’s strong. I don’t know how or why but…. I think she’s come back to us.”

“Why?” he whispered. “Why should I believe that?”

“Good things do happen, brother.” Elijah said gently. “Come, let’s get her someplace more comfortable. She can explain when she wakes up.”

Somehow, his brother’s utter optimism that Camille would wake up and be able to explain everything made Klaus believe it was possible.

Shifting her into a bridal carry, Klaus stood with his love in his arms and let Elijah guide him back to his room.

Chapter Text

A week had passed since Camille O’Connell rather spectacularly crashed back into their lives. In that time, she had not awakened, simply laying in Klaus’ bed as if in a deep slumber.

Klaus’ ears had become especially attuned to her heartbeat, waiting for the moment it would begin to slow or skip one too many beats. Or stop. He hardly dared leave her side, only making the occasional trip to find out why Freya hadn’t already come to him with an answer, and even that was only with the assurance Elijah would keep watch.

“I almost prefer having you dead,” Klaus whispered from his spot at the window on the other side of the room. “At least then, I knew your soul was at peace. This…. This is torture.”

“Awfully early in the morning for such a glum attitude.”

Klaus’ head snapped to Rebekah, who was leaning in the doorway. “Is there any reason I shouldn’t be glum, dear sister?”

“Vincent has news.”

Vincent had news.

Klaus didn’t ask what the news was. He didn’t ask where Vincent was. He didn’t ask Rebekah to watch over Camille while he went to interrogate him. He simply left and followed his nose.

Elijah was already in the study when he arrived. His brother locked the doors behind him as Klaus stepped to Vincent. “What’s wrong with Camille?”

“I was able to speak with the ancestors-”

Klaus growled. “Bloody ancestors. What did they fuck up now?”

“If you’ll let me talk?” Vincent glared at him before continuing. “It would appear that Cami made a deal.”

Klaus straightened. “What? How did that happen?” Surely if any of them could’ve found peace, it would’ve been Camille. How had the ancestors even made a deal?

Vincent explained how Camille’s soul had apparently been trapped in the compound after she died. Not even the ancestors could explain it, but it had happened. It appeared that some of the time Klaus had been locked in the basement, he actually had been speaking to Camille and not just some figment of his imagination. She’d been witness to their destruction, to their homecoming, everything.

Until the Hollow attempted to destroy them all. Apparently, she couldn’t stand being witness to that.

“The power that she used to destroy the Hollow- it wasn’t hers,” Vincent said. “She was just the conduit. All that power came from the ancestors. She agreed to it, even knowing the consequences.”

“What sort of consequences?” Elijah asked. Klaus felt his brother’s hand hovering over his back, as if he might need to hold him back from doing something.

He might.

“I don’t think even they knew. There was a chance she wouldn’t survive it. There was a chance she would be nothing more than a shell after. There was a chance she would be fine. Cami didn’t care. Hope deserved a family, she said. She didn’t care what it cost.”

“So she may never wake, never live, all in the name of saving the family that killed her.” Klaus didn’t think he’d ever felt so numb.

No. He wished he felt numb. He didn’t think there was a name for what he was feeling. It wasn’t quite rage, not exactly sorrow. It was far off from grief or shame. Some horrible, huddled mess of feelings that he hardly let himself feel to begin with.

“Wake her up.”

“Klaus I can’t just-”

He had Vincent against the wall by his neck before Elijah could stop him. “Wake. Her. Up. Or the next time you do a spell, you’ll do so without the benefit of vocal chords.”

“Niklaus-”

Klaus let him drop to the floor and ran before Vincent could catch his breath.

For the first time in a week, he left the compound. For the first time in many, many years, he ran from something. From himself, from Camille, from the unknown- he couldn’t say.

He ran. He ran, and he didn’t stop until he was out of the city.

He didn’t return until long after the sun went down and his fangs were dripping with blood.

Not even Elijah said anything to him as he trudged his way back to his room and locked the door.

----------------------------------

It was another month before anything happened. In that month, Klaus left the compound more and more, going off on his own for hours without telling anyone. Knowing what Camille had sacrificed for him only made it harder for him to watch her.

Freya and Vincent had both tried their hands at waking Camille, to no results. Freya seemed convinced, at the very least, that she was not dead. “Her soul is there,” she swore on day. “I just can’t reach her. We just need to be patient.”

Patience had never been Klaus’ strong suit.

He’d been just about to leave again when he heard it.

It was just the barest increase in heartbeat, the slightest deepening of her breathing. An actual breath escaped her mouth. When he looked at her, he could properly see the movement of her chest. Her heart rate increased again and he knew.

Camille was waking up.

He was at her side just in time to see her eyes fluttering open. Her eyes darted about the room for a moment, then focused on him. Her face broke out into a smile. “It’s you….”

“Yes, it’s me, love.” He took her hand in his. “How do you feel?”

“I feel… Alive.” She slowly pushed herself up and he helped her sit against the pillows.

His thumb stroked the back of her hand. He distantly thought he should inform the rest of the family of this miracle, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave, to break this spell. “I cannot tell you how grateful I am that you’ve finally awakened, Camille. These years without you have been… Well, we needn’t speak about the past. We have a future now.”

She tilted her head. “Camille….” She spoke slowly, testing the feel of the name on her tongue. “Is that my name? Camille?”

Klaus’ heart sank like a stone.

She was alive. Against all odds, she’d come back to him, alive and well and perfectly human.

He should’ve known there would be a catch.

“Yes, your name is Camille,” he said, his voice utterly void of warmth. “Do you know mine?”

She leaned forward and her hand brushed his cheek. He flinched back. “No, I don’t,” she said finally. “But I know that I love you. I…. I think I came here for you.”

He stood and vamped to the door in one motion. He almost regretted it for the confusion it brought to her face.

But he couldn’t sit here in this room, with her, after a confession like that. Not knowing that, once again, loving him had brought irreparable damage to the person who deserved it the least of everyone he knew.

“Do not leave this room,” he ordered, shoving down his guilt once more.

Then, he did what he always did in situations like this.

Klaus ran. He ran. He ran far and he didn’t stop until his legs gave out. Or perhaps he just tripped over an errant root or rock.

Not that it mattered.

An incessant buzzing noise reached his ears; it took him some time to realize it was his phone. The screen was full of notifications- text and calls and more. Everyone in his family telling him that Camille was awake and alive and well and that she was asking for him and he needed to see her. Only Elijah seemed to have the nerve to tell him not all was well, though he was still vague about it.

He turned off his phone and he ran.