AN: Ahaha, y'all are tryna distract me with the idea of writing Elijah sexytimes! Tempting, but it's not in the cards for this particular story (mostly because I'm crap at it). If anyone wants to write a "deleted" scene though, you have my blessing! Here, let me give you some fodder!

All good things must come to an end, but the truth of this fact didn't make it any easier to accept.

Monday morning had come around and now the vacation was truly over. On second thought, Leah wondered, perhaps 'staycation' was actually the more appropriate term in this case. After all, she concluded, she had indeed spent the last seven days on a sort of holiday from all the realities of her changing life. Tucked away in the happy seclusion of the Compound, Leah had spent most of her staycation in the blissful distraction that was Elijah's bed.

Bed was safe; the real world was scary.

The adjustment to her new-found hybridity was definitely bringing its share of growing pains, both physical and emotional. It was a hard pill to swallow: Leah was now a thing that went bump in the night.

She had promised herself that she would take it one day at a time, one step at a time.

On the first day, Elijah had brought her to the Compound. She was wired, yet exhausted, and her new hybrid body was pulling her in a million different directions: she wanted to dance and cry and yell and scream and fight and fuck and sleep for days and days and days.

And perhaps most new and confusing and terrifying of all, she wanted to sink her fangs into someone's throat and drink until their heart stopped beating.

Even Elijah agreed that she wouldn't be doing anything until she got some blood into her.

On the second day, she had laid in bed next to Elijah after their umpteenth go between the sheets simply feeling the breeze from the window as it slipped across her glistening skin, staring at her hands like they were the most fascinating things in the world, simply transfixed by these strange new reaches of sight and sound and sensation. Coming out of this synesthetic coma, it was rinse and repeat until she was right back where she started, staring at every crack and crevice in the ceiling like they held all the mysteries of the world.

On the third day, he tried to get her to talk about it. She knew it was a trick: 'it' was not one thing, 'it' was actually a combination of several things, none of which she wanted to (or needed to?) address, at least right now (maybe not ever). Anyway, Leah told him, she seemed to be doing just fine; besides the fact that she felt like she was on LSD most of the time, everything was totally fine, Elijah, really.

On the fourth day, she finally looked at her phone for the first time in days over breakfast: she had 9 texts and 3 missed calls from Hope (she ignored the voice mails entirely). She deleted them all, staring at the phone in her hand with an anxious frown for a solid three minutes. Leah then proceeded to drop the phone on the floor and stomp on it with the full force of her hybrid strength until it was smashed into a million little pieces.

Elijah had watched the outburst from the other side of the kitchen with grave concern yet gentle understanding. Patiently, he crossed the room, took her hand and promised her it would be okay; after all, tomorrow was another day.

Nevertheless, Leah didn't have to wait that long. Elijah had bought her a new phone by dinner.

On the fifth day, at precisely 2:32pm Zach texted her asking if she had gone to the geology review session and if so what would be on the test. This led to Leah questioning whether there was any point studying for that dumb test (or completing that useless class, or even returning to school at all) which in turn developed into a full on existential crisis involving the meaning of life (the universe and everything) and several bottles of vodka.

It took Elijah until 7:56pm to talk her down from the roof.

On the sixth day, Elijah decided that going back to school was in fact the best thing for Leah. The two of them sat down in his office and made a list of short-term goals and long-term goals: graduating was a short-term goal; everything else was a long-term one.

Going back to school would mean learning to control any and all homicidal urges.

Mastering the time-honored skill of sublimation through alcohol was not going to be enough; Elijah wasn't sure if Leah was joking or being serious when she suggested she could simply carry a flask on her at all times when on campus.

(She wasn't joking.)

(He wasn't going to take any chances.)

They spent the entire day walking around New Orleans, from the quiet streets of the Quarter to the tortuous temptation that was the Esplanade Mall on a Saturday afternoon.

By early evening, the struggle was real. Her last blood bag had been that morning; Elijah had wanted her to really push herself to the limit but halfway through Macy's she wasn't so sure she wasn't going to take a bite out of that child screaming in the shoe aisle over.

Noticing the tense grip Leah had on her shopping bag, Elijah concluded that she had demonstrated an impressive amount of self-restraint and decided it was probably a good time to go home.

On the other hand, Leah demonstrated an impressive lack of self-restraint in the bedroom that night.

On the seventh day, they rested.

Now Monday morning had indeed come around again and the vacation was well and truly over.

As usual, Elijah was already awake, although he hadn't yet left the bed; he had been counting the number of seconds Leah could sleep through her phone alarm.

"One minute and 15 seconds, impressive."

She answered him with an unintelligible grumble of words, hitting her phone aimlessly until the alarm silenced.

"I think you just hit 'snooze.'"

"I know," she slurred, turning to face him, her face still flush to the pillow. "That was on purpose."

Elijah ran a thumb across her cheek, replying firmly.

"You have to go back to campus. We agreed."

"You agreed. I just kinda gave a non-committal grunt."

"You also agreed that starting this week you would work on talking more about it."

Ugh, it.

"So…?" he ventured.

She rolled on to her back to stare at the ceiling in disinterest.

"So what?"

"Do you want to talk about it?"

No.

"Talk about what?"

She knew she was taking advantage of his unlimited patience for her, but he knew that trying to drag her into a serious discussion anytime before 11 was a useless endeavor.

"Let's start chronologically, perhaps. How about…your feelings about me compelling you?"

"Easy, not cool."

That was the truth, the whole truth and nothing but - no need to elaborate.

It was too early in the morning anyway for long sentences and complex emotions.

She was still staring at the ceiling.

"Fine, then what about the night in the cemetery?"

"Not fun."

That was also the truth.

"Davina?"

"Eh."

"Then what about your mother?"

"Definitely not relevant."

"I think it's very relevant, Leah, and you have to talk about it at some point."

She turned her head, training her clear eyes on him. Now she had a question.

"Why?"

Elijah softened his gaze, remembering; he was speaking from past experience.

It was undeniable now: Hayley and Leah were terribly alike in so many ways.

"Because those feelings you are avoiding won't go away, Leah, they will sit heavy in your heart and eat away at it."

She held his gaze unblinking before breaking out into a beaming grin like he had just told a really funny joke.

"Elijah, lighten up, let me just get through this next month even if I have to do it on auto-pilot. Let's add early morning counseling to the long-term list, okay? You're the one forcing me to go back to school, don't you think that's enough torture for one day?"

"Leah…"

She sat up, pulling the sheet up around her bare chest.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I promised, it's just…"

"Scary?"

"New. It's all very new."

"One day at a time."

"I know," she hummed, attempting to give him bedroom eyes at 8:13 in the morning. "Are you sure I can't just stay here one more day?"

Elijah smiled at her obvious overture.

"Leah…" he warned, more firmly this time. "I know what you are doing, that's not going to work on me."

Pouting playfully, she gathered the sheets around her before swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

"It usually does," she teased before placing both feet on the cool floor and standing. "How 'bout this, I'm gonna shower - that should give you plenty of time to reconsider."

"Hmhmm," Elijah voiced, watching her retreat into the en suite bathroom.

Pulling his own phone from the nightstand, Elijah was greeted with a very unexpected text.

/

"Get dressed."

That was not exactly the welcome she had expected returning from the shower.

Elijah was already dressed, suit, tie and jacket.

Apparently everyone was going back to work today.

"Are we…going somewhere?" she asked, pulling an outfit from her designated drawer.

"Yes, downstairs. I'll meet you in the kitchen."

Leah made a face at his curt response.

Since when did going to the kitchen require clothes? It certainly didn't last week.

Vacation was definitely over.

She got dressed as he left, pulling a brush through her damp tangles and shoving her phone into her back pocket before heading for the stairs to the lower level.

She was looking down at a new text message when she entered the kitchen, so this was quite literally a surprise.

"Surprise! We made you breakfast!"

Hope was literally in her face with a muffin basket.

She was not alone in this culinary ambush.

Leah stood in the doorway, dumbfounded; she wasn't sure what was indeed more surprising, the fact that Hayley was cutting a grapefruit into quarters or that Klaus was nursing a pan over the stove.

"Are you making bacon?"

"And eggs, Elijah tells me you like them scrambled?"

Klaus took the stunned expression on her face as a yes.

Taking a muffin from Hope before she exploded with excitement, Leah finally turned to Elijah who was pulling the orange juice from the fridge.

"Did you set all this up?"

"Not at all. Just before you got in the shower Hayley texted they were coming over."

Okay, that was actually more surprising than Klaus and the bacon.

Leah advanced further into the kitchen, leaning against the center island as Hayley kept chopping fruit.

"You wanted to cook me breakfast?"

"Well, it was more Hope's idea. She wanted to swing by early to drive you to campus—she was afraid you wouldn't return unless she dragged you back."

Leah nodded, removing the paper liner from the muffin; Hope knew her so well.

Hayley continued, grabbing a cantaloupe from the grocery bags.

"And then Klaus said we still kinda owed you an proper apology for being so shitty to you this whole year, so…here we are…I hope you like everything anyone could possibly eat for breakfast because we are making it all."

Klaus spoke up from his place over the griddle.

"Don't be stingy, Hayley, love, bring out the bourbon as well. Leah, Hope informed me on the theory of 'I'm sorry shots' and I agree, no apology is complete without copious amounts of alcohol."

"It's barely 9."

"So we better start now before your Spanish class at 11."

Elijah laughed, pulling glasses from the cabinets.

Hope sidled up beside her on the counter, shoving a plate in her face.

"I made you pancakes!"

Leah was truly touched, but she didn't think it was safe to touch these particular flapjacks.

"Hope, why do they look like that?"

Rolling her eyes, Hope threw the plate on the counter in resignation, going for the bourbon instead.

"I forgot to add the egg. Following instructions was never my strong suit."