AN: Hey look, it's chapter two! This is the first of two flashback chapters, so hopefully this will provide a little clarity (not too much though, the mystery is half the fun!), I know it's not nearly as long as the first one, but rest assured, the next one totally is (it might even be longer!). Hmm, I feel like I should have more to say. Oh yeah! Shout out to Disciple of Stig for very kindly pointing out an error to me, I appreciate you very much. Thanks to the reviewers, hopefully there will be more of you as we continue (but not too many, because I don't do well with too much attention, okay). Anyway, I'm gonna shut up now, and let the story do the talking! Enjoy:)

Addendum

(n.)

A thing to be added; an addition.

Chapter Two

2 and a half years earlier

aka

Graveyard of Dreams

Mystic Falls, Virginia: April-May 2015

There's something about Elena Gilbert in her mourning weeds that tugs at Dean's heartstrings. Maybe it's the delicate line of her collarbone jutting out from the sleeves of her black dress, so fragile, so easily broken. It could be the way her brother Jeremy hovers protectively close to her, like he's expecting someone to come and steal her—the last of his family—away from him. It's probably the look on her face that gets to him though—the grief and heartbreak sits so heavily on her face, aging her years within the span of a day, and yet she wears it like she knows the feeling all too well.

She's two months shy of her eighteenth birthday and today she's burying her aunt and uncle, only eleven months after burying her parents. She's known so much grief in such a short span of time for someone so young, and he can see how it weighs on her like a physical weight. She handles herself admirably well, all things considered, she could be far more of a mess than she is and Dean can't help but admire her for it.

He keeps his focus on her to ignore how awkward he feels at the funeral. He and his dad are strangers in the small group of mourners. His father was friends with the uncle—John Gilbert. Dean doesn't know much about the situation, just that John Gilbert was Elena's real father, but she was raised by his older brother Grayson and his wife Miranda alongside their biological son Jeremy.

A long time ago, John Winchester promised his friend John Gilbert that if it ever came to be that there was no one else left to do it, he would protect his daughter, Elena. He doesn't know what his dad is supposed to protect Elena from, but it's clear that she is in danger.

In Dean's experience, you don't end up with a graveyard full of dead family members in such a short period of time without some kind of supernatural interference.

His dad had received a call the night before, the conversation was brief and tense, and the next thing Dean knew they were driving to Virginia for the funeral of a man Dean had only met a handful of times.

Dean can't see anything of John Gilbert in his daughter, the man he remembers had light brown hair and blue eyes, where he was fair his daughter is dark, with deep brown eyes, long dark hair, and smooth olive skin. Elena Gilbert is a very pretty girl, behind the grief that has aged her beyond her scant years.

She's the only one who doesn't seem confused by John and Dean's presence, so he assumes her father—uncle—must have told her about them. The other funeral attendees regard them almost warily, and Dean is just as wary of them. It's a small group by all standards, only five of them besides the Gilbert siblings. There are two girls—a tall blonde and a petite black girl—who are obviously friends of Elena, and a boy about the same age as her, and two men, one who looks not much older than Dean himself, and one who looks at least thirty.

There's something about the boy, the younger man, and the tall blonde that set Dean on edge, but he wouldn't count the petite black girl out in a fight either. Still, he can't quite get a read on any of them—he just knows there's more to them than meets the eye. The middle aged man is the easiest to place, Dean doesn't know his name, has never met him before, but he'd bet big that the man is a hunter of some sort. Like recognizes like and all that.

Elena kneels down to place red roses on the graves—fresh and old alike. She stays there, and for a moment Dean wonders if she will be able to stand again. With remarkable strength, she stands, holding her spine punishingly straight, and Dean's admiration turns to awe.

In their line of business, grief is not uncommon, but Elena handles hers with a grace that Dean has never encountered before.

The group seems to be breaking up, the younger man is already halfway across the graveyard, with the boy following after him. The two girls and Jeremy stay huddled close to the man, and Elena turns to look at Dean and his father.

Taking his cue, John moves towards her, Dean trailing after. John holds his hand out for Elena, and she takes it.

"John Winchester, and this is my son Dean," he introduces himself.

When Elena turns to shake Dean's hand it's like she's looking through him.

"I was friends with your father—or should I say uncle?" John gives her a speculative look. She raises an eyebrow.

"John Winchester's friends with John Gilbert?" she replies dryly and Dean actively has to stop himself from laughing. His dad gives her a wry grin in response and she smiles without humor. "I know, he mentioned you, in a letter," she tells him.

"That's good, I was hoping he had, otherwise this was going to be pretty awkward," John says. She nods in agreement.

"Two strange men at an incredibly private funeral, nothing awkward about that," she deadpans, and Dean wonders if she's this funny because this is how she deals with her grief.

His dad doesn't quite know what to do with her dark humor, but Elena seems to intuitively know that, because she gives him an apologetic, grimacing smile.

"Sorry, that was the last one, I promise." She tucks her hair behind her ear, glancing over at the small group of people hovering just out of earshot. For a moment it seems like she and her brother are locked in some kind of silent communication, but then John touches her elbow gently and she turns back to them, breaking their eye contact.

"We should probably go somewhere else, we've got a lot to talk about," he tells her as gently as he can. She nods.

"Of course, we can talk back at the house," she agrees.

She waves over the rest of the group and they all leave the cemetery together, Elena tucked into her brother's side as close as she can get.

It's not far back to the Gilberts' house, Mystic Falls really is a small town. The house is big and white and the only thing that's missing is a white picket fence. It looks like a house straight out of a movie, cookie cutter family in a small town and all. Then Dean remembers that there is no cookie cutter family waiting inside, just two kids with more ghosts than they know what to do with, and he reins in the cynicism.

The two girls seem reluctant to leave Elena alone, so she ushers the Winchesters into her father's old study, away from the rest of the group who have taken up residence in the kitchen. His father had quietly indicated that he only wanted to talk to her—without Jeremy.

Without thinking, she takes the seat behind her father's desk, and the two Winchesters follow her lead and take the two chairs in front of it.

"Do you know why I'm here, Elena?" John asks.

He's leaned forward on his forearms, his expression as open and frank as John Winchester can get, and Dean is mildly surprised at the gentle tone he uses with her. It's kinder, even than the one he uses with bereaved widows and terrified witnesses.

She nods uncertainly. She looks impossibly small sitting behind her father's desk, like a little girl playing make believe.

"He said—in his letter—that you're supposed to protect me," she says quietly, a hard look passes over her face and she continues, "But—it's too late. It's already done."

She says it so simply, like it's an irrefutable fact, and Dean wonders for the umpteenth time what exactly she needs protecting from. His dad has been suspiciously tight-lipped about the whole thing.

John doesn't look surprised at her revelation, instead he nods his head.

"I know," he tells her seriously, and Dean can't help but notice the hint of disapproval in his face and tone. "But you have to know, Elena, that wasn't the end," he continues ominously.

She seems to understand whatever he's implying, because her face goes pale.

"It might be done, but it's not over," he warns her. "As long as you are alive, it will never be over," he says grimly.

She swallows harshly, looking down at her hands. After a moment she nods her head, and when she looks back up at him, there is something resigned in her eyes, like an animal backed into a corner that knows there is nowhere left to run.

"I guess I did know that," she admits, her fingers tracing light patterns on the surface of her father's desk. The room is clean, no dust hanging around in the corners, but it's clear that it's unused.

Dean can't help but wonder about the rest of the house—how much of it is like this room. Free of cobwebs, but untouched, almost like a museum of all her ghosts.

"We can protect you," John tells her. Elena snorts.

"No one could before," she says quietly. "If it weren't for John—" she cuts herself off. She takes a breath to steady herself, and then meets John's gaze again.

"What can you do that they couldn't?" she asks. Her jaw clenches with the effort it takes to control her emotions.

"Your father—John—" his father clarifies quickly. "He made the appropriate arrangements for me to be your legal guardian in the event something happened to himself and Jenna." She winces at the sound of her aunt's name, her loss still an open wound. "I know you're almost eighteen," he continues. "But I think it's best for you if you come with us. You'll be safer, away from Mystic Falls."

Dean blinks, but quickly hides his shock, focusing his attention on Elena's reaction instead of asking all the questions he suddenly had for his father. For a long moment Elena simply stares at John, a frozen look of disbelief on her face.

At last she shudders and blinks, opening her mouth.

"Excuse me?" she asks, her voice high and too close to shrill for Dean's comfort.

John remains calm, clearly anticipating her reaction.

"It's what's best for you, Elena, you're too easy to find here," he tells her reasonably.

Elena though, is not having any of his reason.

"Mystic Falls is my home, I'm not leaving," she says flatly, glaring at him.

John looks at her for the first time like she is a little girl, and Dean knows instantly that it's a bad move.

"You're in danger Elena—you escaped with your life by the skin of your teeth because John made the ultimate sacrifice—"Elena cuts him off.

"I didn't ask him to do that," she spits harshly, her glare growing even fiercer. "I didn't ask anybody to die for me."

Not for the first time, Dean feels as if he is wildly out of his depth. He has no idea what kind of danger this girl is in, but now he has another piece of the puzzle, albeit a small one. People died for this girl in front of him—probably the ones just buried hours before. Jenna Sommers and John Gilbert.

"You never have to ask the people you love to make those kinds of sacrifices for you," John counters calmly. She glares at him, and to Dean's horror, tears start to spill down her cheeks, but she ignores them, getting to her feet.

"No one had to ask me to die for them either," she tells him, her voice quiet and controlled. Dean could very well be a lamp on the desk, for all either one seems to care for his presence. "But I was ready to do it. I didn't ask them because I'd already made up my mind."

She's seventeen and for whatever reason, she had decided to die. Now she's standing here on the other side of it, a bottomless well of grief and survivor's guilt. Dean can see that his father is pushing too hard and too fast, but he's helpless to stop him.

"I'm not leaving," Elena tells John, her voice full of finality. "This is my home, it's all I have left of them."

Her admission seems to remind her of her anger because suddenly she's full of fight again.

"I'm not leaving," she repeats, and then she walks out of the room.

"Well that went well," Dean mutters sarcastically. John gives him a sharp look and Dean clears his throat nervously. "I just think you were too hard on her," he appeals. "She's young, she's clearly gone through something horrible." Dean gives his father a pointed look, hoping for an explanation, but John just looks at him so he continues. "It just doesn't seem like ordering her around is the best approach." He shrugs.

John sits back down in his chair heavily.

"She doesn't have any other choice Dean," he tells him solemnly. "Her presence is a liability to everyone in this town, and as her guardian I can't just leave her on her own, she's still a minor."

Dean leans forward.

"Why is she a liability to everyone in this town?" he asks, unable to hold back his curiosity any longer.

His dad heaves a sigh and shakes his head.

"You're better off not knowing," he insists and Dean gives him a look. It's the kind of line they feed to bystanders all the time but his father holds firm on this one. "All you need to know is that someone very bad and very old was after her, and if—when they find out she lived, there will be dire consequences," he says grimly. "For her and for the people she cares about," he adds.

Dean frowns, unsatisfied with the small amount of information his father has given him.

"I promised him, I'd protect her," he reminds him. "I can't do that if she's a waiting target."

Dean sighs, but gets to his feet.

"All right," he says.

John raises an eyebrow.

"All right?" he questions.

"All right, I'll talk to her," Dean elaborates.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" John questions dubiously.

"Well your method isn't exactly working," Dean points out.

Reluctantly, John concedes to his point.

"Just, behave, all right?" John orders him.

"Yes sir," Dean promises, following Elena out of the room. When he reaches the kitchen, the tall blonde silently points to the glass doors that lead out to the backyard. He can see Elena's black clad form, and with a nod of thanks to the blonde, he heads out into the backyard.

Her heels are abandoned by the door and she's seated on top of a picnic bench in the furthest corner of the yard, under a magnolia tree in full bloom. Her back is to him, so he tries to make as much noise as he can to avoid startling her.

He climbs up onto the table next of her, a respectable distance between them.

"Your dad's kind of an ass," she tells him, and he snorts a little in surprise.

"He means well," he insists, and she gives him a disbelieving look.

"Really? Because it kind of seems like he's just used to getting his way," she replies flatly.

Dean winces, unable to argue.

"He's just trying to keep his promise to your father," he reminded her gently.

"My uncle," she corrected him quickly. "He was always my uncle to me, no matter what's true," she told him.

Dean nods in understanding.

"Look I know he's not going about it in the right way, but my dad really is just trying to help. He knows you're in a lot of trouble and he's trying to keep his promise," Dean says, hoping to get her to at least see where his dad is coming from.

"I can't just leave, this is my home, those people inside? They might not be my blood, but they are my family," she replies softly. "I understand what your dad's trying to do, and I'm grateful, but what I need is to be here with the people who love me."

He gives a conceding nod; she does have a good point.

"I don't think I'm the one you should be saying this to," Dean tells her gently. She looks over at him. "You should trying telling my dad what you just told me," he suggests.

"Yeah, but will he listen?" she asks.

He shrugs. "You can at least try, right?"

She cracks a small smile and nods her head.

"Try, sure I can do that," she agrees. A few tears slip down her face and Dean is reminded that today has been impossibly long for her—even before his dad demanded she leave her home and everyone she has left behind.

"Your dad kinda has sucky timing," Elena says, breaking the silence and Dean has to laugh at that.

"Yeah, I guess so," he agrees. "Today's probably not the day you want to deal with some strange guy demanding you leave your home."

She stifles a laugh that turns into a sob and reflexively she covers her face with her hands, sobbing into her palms.

Feeling uncomfortable, Dean wonders what he should do. He doesn't know her well enough to feel right comforting her, but listening to her muffled sobs is close to agonizing.

"Hey, you're gonna get through this, you know?" he says and it seems to be the right thing to say, because her sobs turn to hiccups and soon she is wiping the tears from her face.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to cry all over you," she apologizes ruefully. Dean shakes his head.

"No apologies necessary, you just went through hell," he tells her firmly. "I get it, believe me, I do," he assures her, thinking of his mom.

She nods her head seriously.

"I know you do," she says. He raises an eyebrow.

"You do?" he questions, bemused. She nods again, giving him a small, sad smile.

"You don't look at me like someone who doesn't understand what I'm going through," she tells him. "None of the cloying sympathy—or the fear of becoming like me," she adds quietly. "You look at me like you understand exactly what I'm going through."

And this time when she looks at him she isn't looking through him, she's looking into him, like she knows all his secrets and all his pain and understands. It's startling, from someone so young.

"Yeah," he agrees softly. "I guess I do know where you're coming from," he says ruefully.

"Well if you're still standing, I guess you must be right," she replies. "I will get through this."

She looks tired and uncertain, but he finds he has enough conviction for both of them.

"Yeah, you will," he tells her with conviction.

She smiles at him, and this time there is nothing weak in her smile—there is still sadness, but it's strong and true, and he grins back at her.

"Thank you, for listening and talking to me," she thanks him. "I think I'm ready to talk to your dad now."

He waves her off. "Any time," he replies. "Although I've got to warn you, it's gonna take a lot to convince my dad to let you stay here, it's hard to change his mind once he's got it all made up about something," he cautions her.

She climbs off the picnic table, turning to stand in front of him.

"Oh believe me, It's not easy to change my mind either," she assures him, and with that, she heads back into the house, gathering her shoes up into her arms as she walks in.

Dean lets out a small chuckle, shaking his head in wonder. His dad is going to have his hands full with her, beneath the grief that stuck to her skin like tar; it's obvious she's quite the firecracker.

Steeling himself for the coming battle, he climbs off the picnic bench as well and follows her inside.


Elena faces down John Winchester with all the defiance she's used before on older—and scarier—opponents.

"I'm not leaving," she tells him flatly, and John feels his impatience flair.

If it were any other situation, he wouldn't be able to help but admire her spirit—but in this case, he needs her to see sense and understand that he's only trying to help.

"You're a seventeen-year-old kid, you can't just expect me to leave you here on your own," he argues, his last line of defense

They've been arguing for something close to an hour, and she's neatly torn down every defense—pointing out that if the monsters wanted her, they would find her no matter where she is.

"I'm not going to put my life on hold for that," she told him firmly.

She's especially determined not to be parted from her little brother, even though John had promised to make arrangements for him.

"I'm not leaving my brother, or my friends, or my school, Mystic Falls is my home, I'm not leaving," she repeats like a mantra.

In the end, the only thing John has to cling to is his constant reminder that he is her legal guardian—for two more months, but it's the closest he has to an ace in the hole. Until her birthday in June, he's responsible for her.

"I don't care," she tells him flatly. "I'm too old to be led around by nose by someone I barely know," she spits. "I'm not leaving, I'd say you'd have to drag me out of here kicking and screaming but that's not even an option because I am not leaving Mystic Falls. My home and the people here are the only things I have left, and I'm not going to leave them, no matter what."

John feels more exhausted arguing with her than doing battle with a five hundred year old ghost or tracking werewolves on a full moon. All of Sam's teenage defiance hadn't prepared him for the impossible task of dealing with an irate Elena Gilbert. Having made up her mind to stay in Mystic Falls, nothing John can say will change her mind.

"I'm your guardian, and I say you have to come with me," he orders her.

She crosses her arms over her chest, staring him down. "No," she replies simply.

They've been in her father's old study this whole time, everyone else having long since abandoned ship—Dean had stepped out in search of something to eat an asylum away from the arguing duo. In his opinion, John Winchester arguing with Elena Gilbert is the meeting between an unstoppable force and an immovable object.

"Elena, you staying here is practically a death sentence, what do you think he'll do to you if he finds out you lived?" he tries, appealing to any sense of self-preservation she might have.

"I understand that," she says calmly. "But I'm not going to live my life on the run, that's not the kind of life I want for myself, I've seen what running can do to a person—how twisted it can make them, and I won't do it, I won't do that to myself," she swears.

"Your father entrusted me with your safety, how am I supposed to protect you if you won't let me?" he demands. "You need to be kept safe, John knew that, and he made me swear that if worse came to worse, I would keep you safe when he was no longer able to."

She shakes her head. "John, he didn't know me well enough to know what I need," she argues softly. "What I need, is to be here, in my home, with the people that I love," she insists. "They can keep me safe just as well as you can."

John snorts at her declaration.

"Your monsters? Are you sure keeping you safe is what they really want?" he questions, and the derision is clear in his voice.

Elena glares at him.

"I can see that you share the opinions of my uncle, but yes, my monsters are far more suited to keep me safe than you are," she replies stiffly, her anger palpable.

"You can't trust them," he tells her, shaking his head.

"They've never hurt me, they've proven time and time again that they would lie down their lives for mine," she shoots back flatly. "I'm not going to let some ignorant old guy tell me who I should be friends with, you don't have any say in that."

On and on it goes, arguing in circle to the point where John is almost ready to throw in the towel and leave her to her fate. It's only the legal matter that stops him, he is her guardian, and he can't just leave her there. Finally, a soft knock comes at the door, halting Elena and John's argument. Alaric Saltzman steps into the room.

"I couldn't help but overhear your argument," he begins—and Elena flushes pink, she's the one who raised her voice first, after all. "And I think I have a solution that will satisfy everyone."

John raises an eyebrow. "By all means, tell us," he invites, gesturing Alaric into the empty chair Dean had vacated earlier.

Alaric sits down, glancing over at Elena nervously.

"I hope I'm not overstepping my boundaries or anything," he begins, before diving right into his solution, "But it seems like the main problem is that you are Elena's guardian until she turns eighteen in two months," he summarizes handily. "Since you clearly have no intention of staying here until then, and Elena absolutely will not leave." he glances over at Elena who nods her head decisively. "The best solution is to find someone else to be her—and Jeremy's—temporary guardian until Elena turns eighteen at the end of June," he proposes.

Both Elena and John stare at him for a moment. He sighs.

"Let me be clear with my intentions here, I'm offering to be Elena and Jeremy's guardian until Elena's eighteenth birthday," he says clearly.

"You'd do that for us?" Elena asks, her voice feathery soft.

Alaric turns to look at her, his face softening.

"Of course, Elena," he assures her. "I can see how much it means to you to stay here in your home with Jeremy and all your friends, and I would do anything to ensure that you can," he promises.

Elena gives him a wobbly smile. "Thank you," she says throatily, her emotions getting the better of her.

"Of course," he says again.

Both of them turn back to John who is studying Alaric intently.

"Can I trust you with her safety?" John asks him seriously. "I swore to her father that I would protect her, and I didn't make that promise lightly," he informs Alaric gruffly.

Alaric nods solemnly.

"Yes of course, Elena's safety is incredibly important to me," he assures him.

John sighs. "Well I guess we'll have to stick around for the paperwork."

For the first time, John is greeted with the sight of Elena's blinding grin.


When the paperwork is done and over with—aided along by their vampire friends—the Winchesters get ready to leave, but only after John extracts a promise from both Alaric and Elena to keep him informed of the going-ons around Mystic Falls, especially pertaining to Elena and her monsters—both friend and foe.

"I mean it, I want to be kept up to date completely," John insists, and both Alaric and Elena swear they will—only one of them lying.

Satisfied that at least Alaric will follow through with his duties, John makes his way to the car. Before they go, Elena stands on her tiptoes and gives Dean a chaste kiss to the cheek, whispering her thanks yet again for comforting her while she cried.

He grins sheepishly at her.

"Hey any time, Gilbert," he promises. She raises an eyebrow.

"I might just take you up on that," she tells him.

He grins and they say their goodbyes. The Winchesters drive away, John hoping that nothing will bring him back to this place ever again, but knowing that sooner or later, the monsters would catch up with that sweet little girl again.

It only takes them six months before they find themselves back in Mystic Falls, another tragedy weighing down Elena's shoulders.

tbc.

AN: Chapter title is from Graveyard by The Devil Makes Three. So I've been a fan of this band for a while, I went to see a concert of theirs with my best friend. We made it through three songs before we had to leave because everyone in the venue started smoking weed. (Neither of us can stand the smell) But like, I'm pretty sure the lead singer is the Devil. I'm not saying that in a mean or vindictive way at all. Like, he got up onstage to sing with this bluegrass band, and he's in a fucking suit, looking sharp as hell, he's this older gentleman who just exudes chaotic energy. Also, he literally said like two things, started to sing a song about getting high, and the entire bar all at once lit up, so you as Supernatural fans now, that was the Devil.

Anyway, hope ya'll enjoyed it, please review!

xoxo

-Pixie