Chapter 2: Contingencies
Andrew Lockwood hated leaving things to chance.
That was probably why he was still alive.
The room Alaric had assigned him was already unrecognizable.
Books floated through the air.
Runes covered every wall.
Sheets of parchment were scattered across desks, floors, and chairs.
Alchemy circles glowed softly across several chalkboards.
In the center sat a large notebook.
The title read:
PROJECT HOLLOW
Andrew stared at it for several moments.
Then sighed.
"I really need a better name."
The notebook flipped open by itself.
Pages filled with years of research appeared.
The Hollow.
The most dangerous entity he had ever encountered.
Infinite dark magic.
Infinite corruption.
Infinite power.
The thing most people didn't understand was that Andrew had never refused because he couldn't help.
He refused because he understood exactly what would happen.
A siphoner wasn't a bottomless container.
Absorbing limitless power was like pouring an ocean into a bottle.
The bottle eventually shattered.
Back then, he hadn't been strong enough.
Now?
Maybe.
Maybe not.
Neither answer was acceptable.
Which was why he needed contingencies.
Andrew waved his hand.
A dozen ingredients floated from shelves.
Several were impossible to obtain.
Others were supposedly extinct.
That had never stopped him before.
On the desk sat three objects.
A small vial containing Hope Mikaelson's blood.
A fragment of white oak.
And a sample of Marcel Gerard's venom.
The foundations of immortality.
Lucien had been brilliant.
His formula had nearly surpassed the Original vampires.
Nearly.
The problem was that Lucien built a weapon.
Andrew wanted something else.
A safeguard.
A final answer.
A future.
The equations floating before him shifted.
Magic circles rearranged themselves.
New symbols appeared.
Then new runes.
Then entirely new concepts.
A witch would have called it impossible.
Andrew called it Tuesday.
His fingers moved.
Reality bent around the parchment.
Runes burned themselves into existence.
Immortality.
Regeneration.
Adaptation.
Evolution.
Balance.
The final symbol appeared last.
A symbol nobody else would recognize.
Hope.
Andrew stared at it.
His expression softened.
"Still doing this for you."
The confession felt ridiculous spoken aloud.
Nobody was there to hear it.
Which was probably why he could say it.
The truth was embarrassingly simple.
Hope Mikaelson had changed his life.
Not through some grand moment.
Not through romance.
Not through destiny.
Just by existing.
He remembered a lonely little girl carrying responsibilities nobody should have.
Everyone looked at her and saw Klaus Mikaelson's daughter.
Andrew saw something else.
Someone scared.
Someone trapped.
Someone trying desperately to be strong.
Just like him.
Back then he started researching ways to help her.
First it was anti-possession rituals.
Then sealing techniques.
Then dimensional barriers.
Then soul magic.
Then immortality.
Years passed.
The research never stopped.
Nobody knew.
Not Alaric.
Not Bonnie.
Not Jeremy.
Not even Hope.
Especially not Hope.
Because admitting that would require explaining why he spent years preparing for a disaster that never happened.
And Andrew wasn't ready for that conversation.
A knock interrupted his thoughts.
The door opened.
Hope entered.
She stopped immediately.
"...What happened in here?"
Andrew glanced around.
The room looked like a magical apocalypse.
"Research."
Hope raised an eyebrow.
"Looks like a cult."
"Rude."
She stepped inside.
The runes automatically moved away from her.
Andrew noticed her staring at the notes.
Specifically one page.
The page describing the Hollow.
The atmosphere shifted.
Both remembered.
Neither wanted to talk about it.
Eventually Hope broke first.
"You could've helped."
Andrew didn't answer.
"You knew that."
Still silence.
"I spent years wondering why."
Andrew closed the notebook.
The sound echoed through the room.
"You want the truth?"
Hope crossed her arms.
"That'd be nice."
Andrew leaned back in his chair.
"The truth is I could've done it."
Hope froze.
For the first time in years, Andrew saw genuine surprise on her face.
"I knew it."
"I could've siphoned every fragment."
"Then why didn't you?"
Andrew's eyes met hers.
"Because I wasn't sure I'd survive."
Silence.
"If I failed, I died."
Hope didn't respond.
"If I succeeded..." Andrew laughed humorlessly. "I wasn't sure what I'd become."
The room grew quiet.
Hope looked away.
For the first time, she understood.
Back then everyone had asked Andrew to sacrifice himself.
And he had been just a kid.
A scared kid pretending he wasn't scared.
Just like her.
Andrew stood.
A complicated sealing formula appeared in the air.
Thousands of runes rotated around one another.
Hope immediately recognized none of them.
"What is that?"
"My backup plan."
The runes expanded.
A massive seal appeared.
One Hope had never seen before.
"The Eight Trigrams Sealing Style."
Hope blinked.
"The what?"
"A sealing technique I created."
The glowing symbols rotated.
"Specifically designed to contain infinite magical entities."
Her eyes widened.
"The Hollow."
Andrew nodded.
"For years."
Hope stared at the impossible complexity of the seal.
Thousands of equations.
Thousands of runes.
Years of work.
Years.
Suddenly something clicked.
"Wait."
Andrew looked up.
"You made this..."
Hope's voice softened.
"For me?"
Andrew immediately regretted existing.
There it was.
The question.
The dangerous question.
The one he'd successfully avoided for years.
His brain desperately searched for sarcasm.
For a joke.
For literally anything.
Unfortunately, Hope was staring directly at him.
And he couldn't lie.
"...Yeah."
Hope didn't speak.
Neither did Andrew.
The silence stretched.
Awkward.
Painful.
Dangerous.
Finally Andrew pointed at the seal.
"So anyway—"
Hope laughed.
Actually laughed.
The tension shattered instantly.
Andrew blinked.
He had forgotten how nice her laugh sounded.
Which was annoying.
Hope shook her head.
"You haven't changed."
"That's a terrible thing to say."
"It's true."
"Rude."
Their eyes met.
For a moment neither looked away.
Then Hope glanced toward the notebook.
"What's the second backup plan?"
Andrew followed her gaze.
His expression became serious.
"The risky one."
Hope immediately disliked that answer.
"What risky one?"
Andrew hesitated.
Then spoke.
"Siphoning the Hollow."
Hope's face paled.
"Andrew."
"If the seal fails."
"No."
"If something goes wrong."
"No."
"If you're dying—"
"No."
Her voice echoed through the room.
Andrew stopped.
Hope stepped forward.
Blue eyes locked onto his.
"You don't get to do that."
His heart betrayed him.
Again.
Because she looked genuinely angry.
Not because of the Hollow.
Because of him.
Because she cared.
"You don't get to throw your life away."
Andrew smiled slightly.
"Funny."
"This isn't funny."
"Coming from a Mikaelson?"
Hope rolled her eyes.
"Andrew."
He looked away.
Because if he didn't, he might say things he wasn't ready to say.
Things he'd buried for years.
Instead he simply shrugged.
"It's just a contingency."
Hope stared at him for several seconds.
Then sighed.
Neither of them believed that.
Because they both knew the truth.
If the day came.
If her life was on the line.
Andrew would choose her.
Every time.
No matter the cost.
And that terrified him more than the Hollow ever could.
Outside, thunder rolled across the sky.
Inside the room, two old friends stood surrounded by years of secrets.
Neither realizing that the future they feared was already beginning to move toward them.
Slowly.
Inevitably.
And this time, neither of them would face it alone.