chapter fifty-nine

the becoming

・❥・

    EVERYONE IN THE supernatural world was familiar with death, whether it be loved ones, strangers, the act of killing another, or you, yourself dying, everyone was accustomed to death.

This was why Jordanna woke that morning, ready to face the day with ease, she figured nothing could phase her anymore, that she could attend the funeral, say her grace, and put it all behind her.

But she felt something weird in her heart, and as Stefan would say, her emotions were heightened, so she felt the pile-up of the two deaths.

Cami and Jordanna were hardly friends, but they had moments of understanding, even if they were brief and Davina? Davina's relationship with Jordanna was special to her. She was like a sister to her, no she was her little sister, because no matter the argument ⸻ Jordanna had and would always care for her.

That morning, the day of the funeral, Jordanna easily ignored Elijah. He'd try to catch her eye, try to start a conversation, but she wouldn't listen. Actually, that was a lie ⸻ they did speak, briefly.

Elijah tried to defend his actions and she, not so politely, told him to choke on shit.

So, as they walked down the busy New Orleans street, behind Cami's coffin, she focused on the jazz band that played loudly, watching as Naomi slowed her step to fall in line with Klaus and Jordanna.

"Nice choice," Naomi said dryly, eyeing Jordanna's outfit before scoffing, averting her eyes elsewhere.

"Cami would've liked it," Jordanna defended, not taking offence to the brunette's wry tone.

Cami would've laughed if she saw what Jordanna was wearing ⸻ sure, it wasn't funeral appropriate, the dress may have been a tad too short and the heels too high, but somehow, she knew Cami wouldn't expect anything different from her.

"You heading down to Davina's funeral?" Naomi asked, swallowing roughly as she linked her arm to Jordanna's ⸻ she wasn't in the mood for being all touchy-feely but she knew that she needed Jordanna to ground and distract her.

"I'm waiting," Jordanna told the brunette. "I'll go in my own time, plus Marcel's pissed, so I don't think seeing my face will help."

"Marcel's here if you wanna go, plus, this is pointless," Naomi gestured around them as they made their way into Rousseau's, a band already inside. The Tate vampire watched as they carried Cami's coffin toward a table before gently placing it down. "I don't get why we're having a party, it's... it's not right." Naomi inhaled deeply and unravelled her arm from Jordanna's before she ran her fingers through her hair, a distressed look on her face. "I can't... can't be here, just..."

But the Tate vampire never finished her sentence ⸻ she merely pushed her way through the crowd, almost instantly disappearing from Jordanna's sight.

The Jones sighed, and her eyes shifted across the room, and as Naomi had said, there Marcel stood. Gently placing a rose on Cami's coffin.

Jordanna wasn't sure if she could face Marcel yet, because even though she wasn't at fault for what happened to Davina, she felt at blame.

She should've known that they would've done anything to kill Lucien, she should've known because if she was in Freya's shoes, she would've done the same. Not to Davina, but to someone else, because as Marcel said, they didn't give a crap about anyone who wasn't family.

But to Jordanna Davina was family, she was like a little sister to the Jones. They may have not been on the best terms when Davina died, but it didn't rid Jordanna's feelings towards the girl. She loved her like blood because like Grams used to say, "family doesn't end in blood," and that's how she felt with Davina, that's how she felt with Marcel.

The heavy sigh that left Hayley's lips snapped Jordanna out of her daydream. The raven-haired Jones turned her attention to the brunette and raised a singular eyebrow.

"I'd be so pissed if someone threw a party at my funeral," Hayley voiced, staring out the window, eyeing the parade that marched down the street, upbeat music following along.

A short, humourless chuckle left the Jones' mouth, "Tell me about it. I want tears and sappy speeches about how much everyone loved me, not this joyful crap."

"Yeah, there'd be about five people speaking at yours, a lot of people hate you, Jords," Hayley shot back, turning to face the younger girl as she leant against the wall.

"Hate me?" Jordanna feigned ignorance, hand slapping at her chest in mock shock as she leant against a small, wooden table, strewn with beer bottles and half-empty glasses. "People love me, Hales."

"Yeah, and more people hate you than love you," the brunette retorted, a playful smile pulling at her lips. "But don't worry, if no one speaks at your funeral, I'll have a nice speech planned."

"Yeah, no, if I die before you, you're not allowed to talk at my funeral. You'd probably call me a bitch and say good riddance. You, you can sit in the back, mute," Jordanna shot back, sending her best friend a pointed look.

"Like you're allowed to speak at my funeral," Hayley stressed, shooting Jordanna that same look. "I don't even wanna know what crap you'd pull at my funeral."

"You'll be dead, I can say whatever the hell I want," Jordanna grinned, pushing her body off of the table. Hayley opened her mouth to say something, but Jordanna beat her to it as she began walking backwards slowly. "I'll see you back at the compound?"

Hayley shook her head lightly and bit her lip to suppress a smile, "Yeah, sure."

So, with a gleeful smile, Jordanna spun on her obnoxiously high heels and made her way out of Rousseau's. Smoothly avoiding Elijah and Marcel. Elijah because she did not want to talk to him and Marcel because she couldn't shake that wrack of guilt she felt every time she saw the hurt and anger on his face.

・❥・

    Jordanna stood in Lafayette Cemetery, in front of Davina's tombstone, staring blankly at the name carefully engraved in the concrete.

A deep sigh left the Jones' lips. Davina was too young to be in there, she should've lived and a part of her understood Marcel's frustrations, Davina had yet to live but the Mikaelsons lived thousands of lifetimes. However, the selfish part of Jordanna was thankful that the favoured Mikaelsons were still here to live one of those many lives. As selfish as it was. Klaus was the father of her children, Kol had spent too many years stuffed away in a box, just as Rebekah had.

"I miss you, Dick-bag," Jordanna smiled sadly, voice lowered as though she was embarrassed. "I'm sorry we didn't fix things before... before all of this. That's on me, I was a dick and stubborn, and selfish..." She trailed off, nervously nibbling on her bottom lip. She wasn't good with this sort of thing, expressing her emotions, that was, she couldn't get her words out and she felt stupid for even trying, but she was alone, no one around to judge and for once in her life, she could be vulnerable.

"You know, when I met you, you were straight up a bitch and I thought, I could grow to like this kid and I know, I know, you didn't like it when I called you that, but, hell, you're dead, what are you gonna do?" She trailed off, almost lost in thought before she cleared her throat.

"You didn't deserve this, any of it, you... you deserve so much better than what you got given to you and I'm sorry. I'm gonna... I'm gonna find a way to make this up to you, you and Marcel and you're-"

The sound of footsteps caused the Jones' words to halt, her brows furrowed in confusion and she turned her attention to Kol, who was, well, stomping over toward her ⸻ determination in his eyes.

"Uh, you okay? You look a little cray-cray..." Jordanna began to say, but Kol merely grabbed her by the forearm and dragged her along with him. "No? Okay, definitely crazy. Kol, what the hell's up with you?" She staggered along behind him, words coming out in a clumsy spill as she tried to piece together what the hell was happening.

"I keep seeing Davina... there's signs, it's a sign, okay? She needs our help, we need to see her," his words were rushed, as he dragged her toward the large tomb at the back of the cemetery. "Vincent and Josh should already be waiting."

"Okay, now I'm confused," the Jones confessed but her words went ignored as they arrived at the tomb, making their way inside, Kol finally released his grip on Jordanna and she took the opportunity to look around.

Vincent sat on the floor inside of a circle whilst Josh stood nearby, a record in hand. Their heads lifted at the sight of the pair. Vincent raised a singular brow at the sight of the Jones and Jordanna awkwardly pursed her lips.

She was unsure how Vincent felt about her ⸻ not like it mattered much, seeing as they weren't really friends, but it did brew a high tension in the room. She wondered if Josh and Vincent, too, blamed her for Davina's death.

But Josh soon broke those thoughts as he sent her a small smile as his eyes met hers. It was a sad one, but a smile, nonetheless.

"Can I just say... this is weird as hell, okay? I mean, what's... what's going on, what exactly is going on here because all I heard was a load of shit just tumble out his mouth and I'm just... I'm confused," Jordanna's words, like Kol's tumbled out of her mouth ⸻ maybe due to the fact she was lightly tipsy, I mean, she had spent twelve hours drinking tequila.

"Yeah, and I'm confused as to what she's doing here," Vincent mumbled from his place on the ground, the question directed at the Mikaelson.

"Davina wants her here." Was all Kol offered in answer and Jordanna's confusion only grew.

Maybe she drank a little too much because Davina was dead, so what the hell was he talking about?

"Still doesn't answer my question," she ran her tongue along her teeth as she kicked off her shoes and without permission from Vincent, she stepped into the circle and sat down beside him, legs folded beside her so that she didn't flash anyone.

Whilst she may not know what they were doing, she was up for it. Hell, Jordanna was up for anything. The Griffith man sent her a look that practically screamed the fuck you doing? but she didn't falter.

"We're breaking the ancestral wall," Josh finally spoke, gaze flitting down to meet hers.

"Oh," Jordanna said softly, slowly nodding her head as she took it in. "Okay, cool."

She didn't know why, hell, she didn't care.

"Did you bring it?" Kol questioned, looking towards the younger vampire who nodded in answer.

"Yeah," Josh said, holding out the record to Kol. "Davina's favourite record." As Kol took the record into his hand, he stared at it for a moment, a solum look on his features before he snapped it, breaking it into smaller pieces. Josh pursed his lips before speaking, "So how exactly does an original vampire get to go to witch purgatory?"

"I died a witch, I spent months there, trapped and tormented by the ancestors," the Mikaelson answered as he took a seat beside Vincent, handing both him and Jordanna pieces of the broken record.

"Sounds crappy," Jordanna spoke under her breath as she watched Kol take a small switchblade to slice open his palm.

"It was," he told her, moving to hand her the knife, but she shook her head and with an eye-roll, he passed it off to Vincent, who then gave the blade to Josh, who repeated their actions. Jordanna, on the other hand, held her free hand out, palm up and watched as a cut formed on her skin.

"Didn't need to do all that," Vincent grumbled under his breath before he shook his head. The four then, with their bloodied hands, grasped the pieces of record tightly.

"Once we cross over, we're gonna be in enemy territory. It's probably a good thing you're here, witches despise you, they're gonna beeline for you-"

"And why is that a good thing?" Jordanna glanced at Vincent with narrowed eyes.

"Because they'll be off my ass, and I can do what needs to be done," he shot back. "We're gonna move quick to conjure Davina and get the bomb set. Otherwise, the ancestors are gonna shut us both down."

"Hm, okay, well, maybe just make sure that doesn't happen," Josh piped up sarcastically from beside Jordanna, who pointed in his direction in agreement.

Vincent ignored the vampire's sarcastic words and reached into the bag he had laid out on the floor, outside of the circle. He ruffled around in it before pulling out a small bottle, Kol narrowed his eyes at the potion and scoffed.

"Really? Hemlock?" He pulled a face in judgment.

"Old school... respect," Josh nodded in appreciation, which had Jordanna rolling her eyes. The hell did Josh know about old-school magic?

"Didn't realise you were such a-"

"Jordanna, don't even start with me right now," Josh cut her off, already knowing she was going to say something bitchy or sarcastic, most likely both. A small smile pulled at her lips ⸻ yeah, she and Josh would be just fine.

"Can you two- please," Vincent sighed in exasperation before hesitantly holding out his hand to Jordanna, with a sarcastic smile pulling at her plump lips, she interlaced her fingers with his. Josh then took hold of Vincent's free hand and Kol's bloodied one.

The four laid back as Vincent began chanting. His voice was soothing and in all honesty, he nearly put Jordanna to sleep and vampires didn't even need sleep. Maybe after this, she'd ask him to record himself talking so she'd have something to fall asleep to but thinking about it, she wasn't sure Klaus would be too pleased to find her falling asleep to the sound of another man's voice.

She could feel the moment she passed through. It felt like she was being swallowed whole and for a second, she stopped breathing when suddenly a loud gasp pulled her body upwards and her hand flew at her chest as she caught her breath.

She took a minute to look around. She woke up in that same tomb, only it was a different place, they made it to the ancestral world.

It was dark and gloomy and an eerie mist set along the air, fog slowly passed her ankles. A gasp had her turning her head, she met Kol's eyes as he, too, awakened.

"Come on, we need to get moving," Vincent told the pair, drawing their attention to him. The two nodded in agreement and Kol came to a stand, holding out his hand to Jordanna.

Taking his hand in her own, she allowed her body to be tugged up by the Mikaelson. They followed Vincent as he led them outside the tomb, grabbing what he needed on the way out.

"Jordanna, help me with this," Vincent spared her a short glance as he began to put together his items. Setting them up on a small stone in perfect order. "I need you to block off the ancestors while I channel Davina."

"How the fuck-" she trailed off, rolling her lips into her mouth as she thought of how to do this. "Okay, yeah, yeah," she nodded to herself, pushing her hair behind her ears she began to look around. Her eyes narrowed in on the dirt on the ground and she kneeled down, grumbling under her breath about getting her dress dirty.

Like most times, her words went ignored, so with an eye roll, she began the task at hand.

She drew a circle in the dirt with the tip of her finger and added smaller symbols inside the circle. She then moved her hands, fingers digging into the ground, she shut her eyes and began chanting softly, her words falling in line with Vincent's. The wind began to blow softly, knocking strands of hair into her face.

Her words grew harsher and her voice lowered before suddenly, her eyes snapped open. She took a minute before pulling her fingers from the dirt. Wiping her hands clean, she turned to Vincent and Kol.

"They can't get us here, we stay in this perimeter and we're good, I can't say how long it'll last, we're in their world, they have the upper hand, but for now, we're fine," Jordanna told the other two.

Vincent nodded and sent her a look of appreciation, she knew that's all the thanks she would get from him and she took it. Now that Jordanna had completed her spell, it gave Vincent a chance to start his.

He placed the broken record piece on the stone and began his chanting. Like Jordanna's spell, the wind began to pick up and an eerie whispering sounded out in the air around them.

"Kol." A voice called out from behind them, no more than a minute later. Kol and Jordanna spun around at the familiar cry. Davina stood in front of them. She was pale, dark circles surrounded her eyes ⸻ she looked tired.

"Davina!"

"It hurts," she mumbled out, following a groan as she nearly fell to the ground, but Kol was quick to speed towards her, catching her before she hit the ground. She looked relieved as she looked up at him, meeting his eye, a small, tired smile pulled at her lips. "I knew you'd hear me."

"I'm here, love. I'm listening," he reassured her.

So, they led her inside the tomb. She shared a brief moment with Vincent before the Griffith began to start another spell. Kol lurked around Davina, as though he was hesitant to let her go, but within the perimeter, Jordanna had spelled, she was stronger, safer.

So, his arms loosened around her as he watched her slowly walk over to Jordanna. When the Jones noticed the younger girl headed her way, she was quick to wrap her arms around her. Jordanna relished the feel of Davina. She hugged her tightly and had to force herself to keep her tears unshed.

"I'm so, so sorry Davina," Jordanna whispered against the young girl's head. "I-"

"It's not your fault, JJ," Davina told her as she pulled away from the raven-haired girl. This was the first time Jordanna had believed it. The way Davina said it, how she looked at her ⸻ there was no lying detected in her eyes. Maybe she needed to hear it from Davina herself for it to register. "I made Kol bring you here because I needed to say goodbye. We left things... not on the best terms and I couldn't..." she trailed off, shaking her head as she swallowed roughly.

"No matter what happened between us, Davina, you're still my family, okay? Family argue. It's done and we're fine now," she reassured the girl, hand holding her shoulder affectionately. "And we're gonna find a way to get you outta here, okay? I was working on this spell last night and Vincent can help, and we can-"

"Jordanna, no," Davina cut her off sharply, the Jones frowned at the hard way her words came out; her questioning stare coaxed Davina to continue. "You can't. Bringing me back will take a lot of magic and you need it."

"Yeah, it might, but my dark-"

"You need your dark magic. Not for me. I hear the whispers, the ancestors know something, I don't know what, but they say in the years to come you have to make a sacrifice and to do that, you need your magic, all of it," Davina told her, voice lowered so that Vincent and Kol couldn't hear ⸻ whilst Vincent was oblivious to this, Kol's brows furrowed as he shamelessly used his vamp-hearing to listen in.

"Davina, what are you talking about? A sacrifice?" She breathed out, her confusion clear on her face.

"Your dad. He's a part of it." Was all Davina offered before she took a step back, a small smile creeping on her lips as her eyes welled with tears. "You need to go back."

"But-"

"I love you," Davina told her, letting her tears fall. "But you need to get back, tell Sebastian that I love him and tell Josh not to be sad. Tell him that one really good friend is more than enough and that most people don't get that. Oh, and Jordanna? Just because I'm dead doesn't mean I can't hear you." The confusion on the Jones' face caused a smile to pull at Davina's lips. "Stop calling me kid, dead or not, I still hate that name."

A small smile made its way onto Jordanna's face, and before she could respond, Davina's hands pushed out in front of her and she thrusted the Jones out of the ancestral world, with a gasp, she opened her eyes and she was back on the floor in the tomb, a confused Josh sat beside her.

"Wha- What happened?" Josh scrambled over to her clumsily, breathing heavily as a deep frown covered his features.

"Uh, well, for starters Davina told me to tell you to quit being a pussy."

"Jordanna, I swear to God-"

・❥・

    Jordanna slowly made her way into the compound, shoes in hand and even after all that, her hair still looked perfect. Though her mood was about to be the damn opposite of that.

On the small table that stood by one of the couches, was a letter. A piece of parchment folded over, and Jordanna's name messily scribbled down on it. With furrowed brows, she headed over to the table and grabbed the parchment between her manicured fingers.

Flopping down onto the couch, she crossed one leg over the other. Dropping her shoes beside her, she unfolded the paper and let her eyes drag along the words.

Jordanna,

By the time you get this, I'll already be gone and don't bother looking for me, you won't find me. It won't be forever, but after Cami dying, I needed to get out of this place, everywhere I go, look, I think of her and right now, I can't take it.

While you and Seb and weirdly, Klaus, have become my sort of family, I need a break. New Orleans is like some kind of death magnet, everywhere you look, you think of or see someone who you loved and died.

I can't take it anymore.

When I'm ready, I'll come to see you, or you come to see me, wherever I am in the world. Just, watch over Marcel for me, I know we've drifted since my being back, but I still care about him.

Also, I left you that pair shoes that you keep stealing. Think of it like my promise to come back, because I'll be damn sure you're not keeping them.

So, I'll see you around, someday, but for now, I'm gonna love you and leave you.

Naomi.

For fuck's sake, Jordanna thought to herself. But she understood why she was leaving. She didn't want her to leave, but she got it. For Naomi, Cami was everywhere. The compound. Rousseau's, her apartment... she'd be haunting her emotionally.

So, with a dampened mood and a sigh, Jordanna got up from the couch, leaving behind the letter and her shoes. She slowly made her way up the stairs and exhaled deeply before entering her room, finding Klaus.

The Mikaelson stood on the balcony, staring out into the lively streets of New Orleans, back to her, but yet, she could tell by his body language that something was wrong.

Carefully, and quietly approaching him, she joined him on the balcony. The pair said nothing for a moment, just staring down into the busy streets before the Jones lifted her gaze and her eyes met his side profile.

"What's up with you, huh?" She questioned, tone soft.

Klaus took a moment. He swallowed roughly and looked down at her. "Elijah..." he began to say, pausing for a moment, his breaths jagged. "He killed Marcel."

"What?" Jordanna felt her breath catch in her throat at his words.

"He... he said that he saw Freya's vision, that Marcel was friend, family and foe. He said he had no choice," Klaus mumbled quietly under his breath as though, he was taking in his words.

Flashes of what happened on the bridge flashed through his mind. He was trying to talk to Marcel, fix things for him and in a mere second, his heart was ripped from his chest and he fell into the river, the current swiping away his body.

He winced at the reminder and slowly shook his head, tongue running over his dry lips. When Jordanna's hand met his shoulder, he briefly glanced down at her. Her eyes were filled with tears as she tried to process the news.

Very much like her relationship with Davina, she and Marcel weren't on the best of terms. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt, because it sure as hell did.

When she first arrived in New Orleans, Marcel was the first to grant her kindness and his witty ways soon wormed into her heart. He was like family to her, she loved him like family. Her mom loved him like family.

Klaus' hand rested atop hers for a short moment before pulling away. Without even saying anything, Jordanna immediately understood that he needed to be alone. While she didn't want him to be alone right now, she had to respect his decision, because she knew damn well it was her she'd snap.

So, she lifted her hand to his face and pressed a flitting kiss to his lips, she met his eyes for a moment and they shared a silent conversation before she stepped back, leaving the room just as quietly as she had entered it.

As she left the room, she stopped just outside, back flat against the wall as a she inhaled deeply. In and out, she told herself. Unwillingly, tears fell from her eyes and she hastily wiped them from her cheeks before pushing her body off of the wall.

Hastily making her way downstairs into the gardens, she eyed her chained-up father. No, she hadn't killed him yet, and I know, I know, before she left for her little road trip with Klaus, she told him that she'd kill him but as the days flew by, things seemed to piece together. She knew things, things that meant he needed to stay alive for now.

But that didn't mean she couldn't hurt him.

"Well, look who it is," Howard drawled sarcastically from the floor, chains clanking against the wall as he moved in place. "So you haven't forgotten about me. Wow. I feel special, really, I do."

"Not sure how you'll feel in about thirty seconds so savour that feeling, okay?" Jordanna spoke, looking around the room for something. She eyed the old cement scraper that Marcel used to use to punish his guys. Heading over to it, she grabbed it and made a beeline for her father.

"I'm having a really crappy day, so, I'm not sorry, in advance."

And with that, she plunged the metal into her father's abdomen.

Author's Note! *UNEDITED*
qotd: least favourite tvdu character??

just wanna get to s4, s3 bores me lmao ALSO guys idk if im maturing bc i rewatched tvd and i don't acc hate elena??? like pls if i was her best believe i'd be crying all the time bc wtf is her life??

next chapter is the last one of season 3 and jj is gonna go off on elijah woo and jj and klaus are gonna comfort each other