What You Found

For over ten years, a blue glass vase took pride of place in the middle of the Gilbert's dining room table, a wedding gift passed down through the generations. Anyone who ever came to the house always commented on it, that was until four years ago, when Elena broke it. It was an accident; her, Bonnie and Caroline had just seen High School Musical and perhaps got a little too enthusiastic in their recreation of it. For several minutes, the trio had just stood there, gaping at the broken pieces before Elena burst into motion, picking up the shards and valiantly trying to glue them back together with the help of her friends. And she'd almost succeeded, that was until they hear the sound of footsteps on the porch and the jingle of keys in the lock. To this very day, Elena could vividly recall how her heart had leapt into her throat, how sweat had coated her palms and snaked down her back as the door opened and revealed the chaos they'd created. She thought that she would never surpass that level of unadulterated panic.

She was wrong.

Now, standing in this alley in the middle-of-nowhere Richmond, facing down six vampires, now she knew real panic.

But panic was what got you killed, and Elena wasn't planning on dying tonight, so she squared her shoulders, hoping they couldn't see her trembling, and drawled in her most conceited voice, "The one and only," sashaying towards them as if she didn't have a care in the world, since Katherine sure as hell didn't, apart from keeping herself alive at all costs. "Now, I think I told you to let that girl go." She twirled her hand, indicating the sobbing teen. "I don't think you'll like what happens if you make me ask again."

The man released her, snickering slightly as her legs gave way before she steadied herself and ran past Elena without a backwards glance.

"Miss Katherine," one of the vampires at the back began, tall and blond and eyeing her reverently -more like creepily- as he spoke up, "I didn't realize you were coming back into town."

This dude must be the leader of this little hand of vamps, then, if he was talking to Katherine in such an easy manner. He'd also be the first to notice something wrong.

Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Elena drawled coldly, "Like I need to explain my actions to you of all people," Mr I Have No Idea Who You Are. "I'm Katherine Pierce: I do as I damn well please, and you better remember that before I rip out your heart for insinuating otherwise."

He bowed his head, hair glinting in the light from the nearby street lamp. "Of course, my apologies. I forget myself."

"No matter. Now, is there a reason you're all standing out here, or is the view really that good at this time of night?" Elena remarked, crossing her arms fiercely over her chest and giving her best glare, her 'Big Sister Glare' she'd perfected on Jeremy over the years when he tried to steal her dolls or barge into her room or try and read over her shoulder when she wrote in her journal.

"We have a surprise we think you'll like," the blond one said cockily, motioning to two other vampires who quickly slipped out of the alley and through the club's back exit, yet despite her absence the hairs on the back of her neck refuse to stand down.

"I wouldn't be so sure..." At the sight before her, Elena trailed off, breathing leaving her chest in a ragged exhalation.

Everything stopped. Frozen, hanging suspended in the air, like the feathers Bonnie had floated when she showed Elena her magic for the first time, like her shock was so great it had rendered time backwards. No, this can't be real, her mind insisted. It can't be. It can't.

Standing between two unknown vampires -no, standing wasn't the right word; 'dragged' would be more accurate- was a limp body, skin a sickly grey pallor, still dressed in the immaculate suit he'd worn to the ritual, before he'd sided with his brother. Even looking as he did, Elena would know his face anywhere, would know the set of his shoulders and that deceptively charming half smile. But it wasn't smiling now, oh no. There was no smile on the body of Elijah Mikaelson.

"We caught him a couple miles out of that dump Mystic Falls and I thought Christmas had come early. Sorry I didn't gift-wrap him, but we were kinda pressed for time. Aren't you thrilled?" the blond vampire asked, a puppy waiting to be praised by its master, but Elena barely heard the words, they hardly registered, in one ear and out the other. With a flick of his wrist, the man motioned for the two vampires to drop Elijah, which they did, faces etched with manic grins. The elder Original fell to his knees, bones jarring against stone with a sickening crack that Elena felt through her whole body. The sight of Elijah, always so neat and meticulous and composed, brought so low by some petty vamps made her blood boil, her teeth clench to the point of pain.

She had to get him out of here. She didn't care what it took: she wouldn't let another person die, no matter what he'd done to her.

"You really now how to impress a girl, don't you?" Elena crooned, sauntering closer, eyes raking over the blond vampire who was still gazing at her with that glittering eagerness. "You should be proud."

At the sound of her voice, Elijah's eyes opened, just barely, revealing a hazy flicker of brown before shutting closed once again. But it was all she needed.

"What can I say?" the vampire shrugged. "I learnt from the best. Now, you can go kill him and be free from him and his lot, and therefore get your hands on those daylight rings you've been promising since you turned us."

"Yeah, Miss K, time to hold up your end of the deal," one of the vampires -tall and thin with a shock of red hair, barely out of teendom- called from the back.

Ah, so Katherine had turned herself a little fang club for protection and promised them the freedom to walk about in the day in return. Classic Katherine.

Hoping to by herself some time, Elena insisted impatiently, "I'm afraid it doesn't work like that, fellas. I would need-"

"Eddie."

The lead vampire signalled yet again to another minion, who removed a familiar-looking dagger from the confines of Elijah's suit jacket -who didn't even flinch at the movement- and offering it to the blond.

"Right here, Adam."

Adam gripped the hilt, twirling it about in lazy circles, the blade catching the moonlight and reflecting it back in white sparks. "You were saying, Katherine?"

"It seems you've thought of everything," she mused coyly, hands on her hips. "I would be impressed if I wasn't so shocked at your stupidity."

"I don't understand," Adam protested.

"Of course you don't," Elena scoffed, pointing a finger in his chest accusingly. "You forgot the most important part."

Adam raised a brow. "Oh, really? And what's that?"

"That Petrova's never do as they're told." Swinging her arm in a wide arc, her stake connected with Adam's chest, piercing the thin material of his shirt, wood plunging all the way into his heart. In a flash, Elena's hand was reaching into her boot for her other stake. By the time she'd plunged it into the heart of the vampire that had rushed to fill Adam's place, Elijah was already moving, and soon four ripped hearts lay on the ground, courtesy of the heavily panting Original.

Elijah swayed, knees buckling, fetching up against the brick wall of the club. Elena was at his side in an instant, one arm wrapped around his waist while the other steadied his shoulder. She could feel the strain in his muscles as he battled to remain upright, and for a minute she had no honest idea what she was going to do if he collapsed or fell unconscious; she wasn't exactly an expert in vampire physionamy.

"Hey, take it easy, Elijah," Elena murmured, trying to keep her panic out of her voice. "Take it easy."

"I think that's going to be rather hard, Miss Gilbert, considering I'm likely to collapse on you" he croaked, that smile of his flashing out for a brief moment before vanishing, sunlight covered by dim grey cloud.

"Then I'll just have to catch you," she replied, positioning his arm over her shoulders so she could move him more easily. Damn vampires, they didn't really eat much, so why were they so heavy? "Don't worry, I'm gonna get you out of here, alright? Everything's going to be fine."

"Elena?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Elijah rasped before he passed out in her arms.

When Elijah awoke, it was to the sound of a TV blaring, a creaky ceiling fan sputtering, a female voice cursing about the thinness of plastic cups, and the scent of blood. The last one jolted him upright, his senses immediately on alert. That was not just any blood: this was doppelgänger blood, Elena's blood. Indeed, she stood before him in what he could only guess was her motel room, his jacket laid out besides hers on the chair, and some small, lost part of him warmed at the sight before he focused on the cup she held out to him. When he did nothing out stare, Elena sighed and shaked the plastic for emphasis, brown eyes unfaltering as she ordered him to drink.

The vampire hook his head, the motion sending bright sparks dancing behind his closed lids.

"Elijah." She took his hand, pressing the cup into his stiff palm. "Drink it. Please. It's the only way you'll get better, since I very much doubt you want to go out and find someone to do the whole 'Snatch, Eat, Erase' routine on right now, and it's not like I've got blood bags lying around. Come on; I already did the hard part." She waved her hand, the beginnings of a bandage just visible under the sleeve of her T-shirt.

"If I drink that, it might not be enough. I could go for you," Elijah rasped dryly, hoping his eyes told her what his words could not, that he would not put her life in danger, not again, not after her failed her so spectacularly.

"I trust you."

He frowned. "You really shouldn't, Elena."

"Well that's my decision to make, just like it was my decision to help you, my decision to give you my blood. Now, hurry up before it gets all gloopy and gross."

At that, he let out a low chuckle, finally tipping back the cup and sighing as her blood hit his tongue, kicking his senses into overdrive and spreading out, beginning to heal the effects of the dagger on his body.

"Better?"

Unable to form the words, Elijah simply nodded, reaching over to put the empty cup on the nightstand. He felt the mattress shift beside him, the warmth of her presence leaking into his side as she rested her elbows on the knees of her jeans and eyed him critically.

"I've got some questions," the brunette broached warily, finger knitting together.

"I'm sure you do," he smirked, feeling better, calmer, by the minute. He splayed his hands, a grandiose, magnanimous gesture. "Ask away, Miss Gilbert."

"What happened to you? I didn't even know you weren't alright; the last I saw, you were perfectly fine. How did you end up daggered?"

"Courtesy of my brother," Elijah replied tensly, tone laced with the type of caustic bitterness that can only come from being betrayed by someone you love so deeply. "He promised to reunite me with our family, and in his own, twisted way, he did indeed hold up that bargain."

The Original waited for some sort of exclamation, some sharp reprimand about trusting his brother, that it was his own fault, that he was deserving of such a brutal betrayal after doling out one himself. But all he received was her arms coming up around him gently, cautiously, gripping tightly to the back of his creased shirt. His whole body froze, so much so he wouldn't have been surprised to look down and find the dagger sticking out of his chest once again. Instinctually, his own arms came up around her, holding her small frame in place, unable to push away this glimmer of pure kindness.

"I'm so sorry, Elijah," she whispered into his chest. "I'm so sorry he did that to you."

He pulled back, surveying her tender brown eyes. "It's alright, Elena. It's not like it was the first time, and I'm sure it won't be the last. It was nothing I did not deserve, and it's unjust for you to upset yourself over it. To think my brother above such actions was clearly a mistake, just as it was a mistake to break my promise after all you sacrificed. Which is what makes all this," he gestured to his upright, healing state, her arm that had traveled down to grip his forearm, "all the more confusing to me. Why did you do this, Elena? Why are you here?"

"I thought I was the one asking the questions," she teased, but Elijah sensed she was dodging the question. He was hesitant to push her, so Elijah decided to let it go for the moment and instead replied, "Very well. What else do you wish to know, Elena?"

"How did you get the dagger out? You would have needed help."

"You're quite right," he said, pulling back and putting a respectable distance between the two of them on the bed. Just because he wasn't at his best didn't mean he should forget himself, or his manners. "Secretly, a short while ago, I garnered the employ of a group of witches since I was, admittedly, skeptical about the allegiance I had struck with you and the Salvatores and put in place safety measures in the event that I was again daggered by...someone," he trailed off pointedly.

Elena cocked her head knowingly. "Someone meaning Damon."

"I do. Forgive me, Elena, but I do not trust easily," Elijah admitted, gaze catching on the links of a delicate charm bracelet around her slim wrist, the pulse of magic he could feel emanating from it. Interesting. He made a note to ask her about it when he could.

"It's okay, I know we didn't give you much reason to."

Elijah shook his head, tipping up her chin so she would have no choice but to take his next words seriously, to take them to heart. "No, Elena, do not think of yourself in such a way. You are a good person, and the fact that you have remained so is a testament to your character, your strength and your incredibly bravery. We have all been put in impossible situations this past few months, and I hope you know I don't hold any of what happened against you."

He'd forgiven her the moment she handed back the dagger after he'd awoken in the Boarding House, how open and honest she'd been: he'd seen it all in her eyes. She was nothing like Katerina, or Tatia, and it pained him greatly to know she had been dragged into this mess only because of the two of them and their actions.

Clearing her throat, Elena tucked a lock of air behind her ear and mused, "Did the witches cast some sort of magical alarm or something? Like a heart monitor picking up your vitals, it went off when you were daggered?"

Strong and good and brave and, apparently, much smarter than he'd given her credit for. "Exactly. Much like the astral telekinesis used by Mr Martin and his son, they were able to remove the dagger once they were notified of my slumbering state and I made my escape. Luckily, my body was still in Mystic Falls -I hadn't been daggered long- and I made it as far as here before Katherine's 'goons' found me and incapacitated me." He shuddered with distaste at the recollection of having been bested so easily by a bunch of baby vampires. "I'm glad Kol's still asleep," Elijah commented absently, "since he'd likely rib me about it for decades."

A confused frown marred her brow. "Kol?"

"One of my other brothers," Elijah clarified with a brief half smile, "the most mischievous of the Mikaelsons. He was always up for a good laugh, even more so when it was at the expense of one of us."

"That sounds like Jeremy," Elena remarked fondly with a smile of her own. "He was such a prankster when we were little. I can't count how many times we got into water-balloon fights with my friends or he tried to drop bugs in our hair."

He told her warmly, "I'm sure you gave as good as you got."

"Oh, absolutely," Elena assured him, her bright laughter flittering in the space between them. He'd never heard it before, and he hoped this would not be the only occasion he did. "I was no push-over."

"I'm glad to see that hasn't changed." Trying to smooth out the creases in his shirt suddenly became very important as he murmured, "Thank you, by the way, for saving me. I owe you a great deal."

"You don't owe me a thing, Elijah: there was no way I was going to just leave you there."

"True as that may be, what I don't understand, though, is why you were 'there' in the first place. Why aren't you in Mystic Falls, Elena? Why aren't you home with your brother, your friends? Are you in trouble?" he questioned, evidently concerned for her safety.

"I'm not the one in trouble," Elena sighed, running a hand through her hair, fisting it at the roots and letting out a frustrated puff of breath. "Stefan is."

Ah, of course, the younger, broodier Salvatore. The one who was so willing to let Elena make her own choices, even if those choices ultimately led to her death. Secretly, while he may have not agreed with Damon on many things, and he should have gone about things in a much better way, at least he hadn't let her go without exhausting every possibility, even if they were ones Elena would never approve of. Damon Salvatore had fought like hell to keep her alive, and Elijah knew Elena would fight just as hard to help Stefan out of whatever mess he'd landed himself in.

Elijah was almost afraid to ask, "What happened?"

Elena flopped back onto the pillows, staring up at the cracked plaster ceiling, as if the mere thought of regaling this particular tale sapped all of her energy. "Damon was bitten by Tyler Lockwood."

The Original started. "The werewolf, the one Klaus kidnapped as backup? He was also on your list of loved ones, as I recall."

Elena nodded. "He was. As it turns out, there is a cure for a werewolf bite, the blood of the Original Hybrid."

His brother. It seemed the universe hadn't run out of irony just yet.

"Stefan made a deal, promised he'd go with Klaus if he let Damon have some of his blood," she plowed ahead, becoming more upset with each word out of her mouth. "He sent Katherine over with it; we heard it all from her. Stefan didn't even get to say goodbye. I didn't get to say goodbye. That was two weeks ago, and already there are bodies piling up."

Shifting on the mattress, he turned to face her more fully, left knee inches from hers. "Let me guess: you took it upon yourself to save him from Niklaus."

She laughed, a bitter and broken thing. "You guess correctly."

"But why are you doing it alone?" he wondered desperately. "Surely your loved ones would be the first to help you with this." He'd seen how devoted they all were, to her and to each other. Surely they wouldn't turn their back on her, or Stefan?

"Klaus thinks I died, Elijah," Elena retorted up to the ceiling. "He thinks he killed me during the ritual. How happy would he be if he found out the doppelganger was alive and well?"

Elijah tilted his head, conceding her point.

"Besides, you and I both know that Damon would have chained me up in some hole somewhere if he caught wind of me wanting to go looking for Stefan. He was the only one I didn't tell," she admitted guiltily, remorse plain in the down-turned cast of her chin. At the sorrowful sight, he wanted to grip her hand, wanted to do anything he could to relieve her of her burden. But he could do none of those things, since he doubted she would appreciate such a gesture coming from him.

So, Elijah did what he did best, and gave her the truth. "Love makes us do reckless things, Elena. Sometimes it even makes us hurt other people you care about." He knew that better than anyone, and done just so only recently.

Her gaze locked with his, something burning there, something bright, so bright he was forced to look away. Fiddling with his cuffs, just to give his hands something to do, he smoothly changed the subject, glad that his thousand years of life experience had taught him the nuances of a successful conversational segue way.

"While I hate to be such a pessimistic cloud of doom and gloom," he paused while she sat up, hugging a pillow to her chest as if to protect her from whatever he was going to say next, he pried as delicately as he could, "What makes you think Stefan is still alive? I can't think of any reason why my brother would wish to keep him around."

"I have to think he's alive, Elijah," she insisted, nails picking restlessly at the feathers poking out of the thin fabric casing. "I have to. I won't accept any other option, that I could find him dead -or worse- somewhere. I refuse to believe the man I love is gone, but it would be lying if I said the possibility hadn't crossed my mind; it's just one I refuse to let stay very long."

He understood, he really did. Hope of being reunited with his family had kept him going for decades, of putting back together what was once whole and thriving. And he, too, had had doubts, but his hope has always been able to overcome them, stubborn and immovable and unyielding. "Of course. Forgive me for implying otherwise."

"You're not the first, trust me. My friends, my brother, they all thought I was being stupid, I could tell. They didn't say it to my face, but it was just as obvious, which is why Ric gave me a deadline that if I haven't found him, I have to come back at the end of the summer before school starts. As if finishing high school is important, as if it means anything if he's out there and needs my help! Who knows what Klaus could be doing to him! Damon is his brother, so of course he cares, and he feels responsible since Stefan only left so he could have the cure, but everyone else...it's like they've moved on already, Elijah. Its like my parents all over again: if you can't see the pain, then it's not there. As if I'm supposed to make my peace with all this, but I can't. Someone has to remember him, someone has to care. And it's me, it's always me. Why is it always me?"

Her voice broke, she broke, right in front of him, and a part of him marvelled that she was comfortable enough in his presence to do so, but the larger, more important part only wanted to make things better for her. Elijah was always the fixer in the family, and it seems that hadn't changed, so he put his arm around her, mirroring her pose from earlier when she dragged him from the alley and back to her car, only this time, it was him saving her from having to suffer her pain alone, rather than her saving him from a painful death.

Her sobs evened out, breath coming in gasping hiccups, and she was quick to wipe at her face, to remove the evidence, as if ashamed of letting herself fall apart so completely.

"God, I'm so sorry," she apologized fervently, scooting away from him like she was a live wire and he was about to get burned by her. "Here I am, having a full-on meltdown about my life while you just got daggered by your brother and you must be really tired and I can't imagine 'Dealing With A Crying Elena' was exactly on your To-Do List for the week, or like, ever really."

His hand came up, knuckles brushing against her cheeks in the softest caress, her tears clinging to his skin like raindrops in a garden of leaves, glinting in the low lamplight. "Do not apologize for showing emotion, Elena, or for caring about others before yourself; its a commendable trait. As for the crying..." he shrugged, nonplussed. "I have a younger sister who I've had to console on many an occasion over the centuries, so it's nothing I'm unfamiliar with."

"Ah, so you were the sensitive big shoulder to cry on," Elena mused through her tears. "That tracks, since I can't exactly picture Klaus going in for all that."

Her words shouldn't hurt -after all, they were not about him- but they stung nonetheless, the fact that everyone who came into contact with his younger brother immediately cast him as the villain, as cold and callous and incapable of true emotion, since Niklaus never gives them any reason to think otherwise. Elijah wanted her to know that Nik wasn't always like that, that he himself isn't like that, so he told her quietly, "You'd be surprised." Because she would be. If she knew even half of the stories from their childhood, she'd be very surprised indeed.

"So, what happens now?" Elena asked him, squaring her shoulders and clambering off the bed, boots clicking rhythmically against the carpet as she began to pace. "I'm sure you're dying to get out of here, get some blood and some clean clothes. I think I've got about," Elena crossed the room and proceeded to rummage around in her bags, "at least five hundred dollars. I know it's not much," she continued to rant, oblivious to his mounting confusion and frustration, "but I'm sure you can compel some nice stranger to give up their car and-"

"Elena," Elijah barked. "What the bloody hell are you on about?" There was a reason why he didn't swear often: he knew when it was most effective, had realized that dropping his composed exterior was sometimes the only way to get his siblings to shut up and listen to him. Like Elena did now. "Sit down and talk to me."

She did, blinking at him slowly likes he was a puzzle she couldn't quite wrap her mind around. "Don't you want to leave?" she said it like it was completely obvious, like it was the only logical step forward, him abandoning her after all she'd just done for him. Was that because of his betrayal, or something else? He didn't know, and he wanted to find out, but it wasn't what was most important right now. What was important was ridding her of this absurd notion that had any intention of leaving her to deal with his brother and Stefan alone.

Elijah tilted his head confusedly. "What gave you that impression?"

"The fact that you got stabbed by your brother and probably want to get as far away from Mystic Falls as possible, preferably another country altogether?" she queried with a raised brow as if he was being particularly dense.

"Why, is that what you're going to do?" he joked lightly, although they were both very aware that she would never do such a thing: she was not Katerina.

"No, I'm going to trail Klaus and Stefan. If I'm lucky, I can take them by surprise and ambush them."

"An ambush?" Elijah echoed skeptically. "That's your big plan?" Okay, maybe he'd been too hasty to praise her intellect. "Do I really need to point out how flawed that idea is, Elena?" he demanded, bracing his hands on his knees, brown eyes boring into her.

"Why, have you got a better idea?" she fumed shrilly, hands placed defiantly on her hips as she glared. He didn't even blink.

"I do, in actual fact."

Elena crumpled backwards onto the bed with a moan, kicking off her shoes as she did so, the thump as they hit the dresser filling the silence before she exclaimed, "Oh, thank God. 'Cause I've been trying to figure this all out since they left, and ambush was the best I could come up with."

"Well, I do have more experience in tracking down my brother than you do," he remarked, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "I assure you, when it comes to strategy, Niklaus learnt all his best tricks from me."

"So, what's your plan then?"

Elijah took an unnecessary breath, buying himself time, letting the oxygen fill his lungs before he offered her, "What would you say if I wished to add a member to this crazy solo Hybrid hunt of yours? Say, a thousand year old Original with a penchant for suits and making deals?"

"I'd say your plan sounds a hell of a lot better than mine," she retorted around a yawn, squinting blearily at the clock on the bedside table. "God, it's two am. Time really flys when you're saving an Original vampire, I guess."

He noted the dark circles beginning to emerge under her eyes, the tense line of her shoulders and the exhaustion prevalently outlining her every move. "You should get some sleep, you must be exhausted."

Elena nodded, albeit grudgingly. "You're right, I am pretty beat." She seemed to have some sort of internal debate, for she soon declared in a no-nonsense tone, "You take the bed. I can manage with a sheet and some blankets."

Elijah scoffed. As if.

"Elena," he began, clearly enunciating each word so that he would not have to repeat himself, "I may be a vampire, a creature of darkness not known for either compassion or etiquette, but I am not a cold-hearted bastard: I will not let you sleep on the floor."

She argued, "You're bigger than me, therefore you need extra space."

"You're younger, and technically I just had a nap, albeit a supernatural one," Elijah countered with smoothly.

"It seems we're at an impasse," Elena declared.

He smiled. "It does seem that way."

Elijah knew he'd won her over when she Elena stressed, "Are you really sure you don't mind?"

Reaching out, he took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting her go. "I really don't mind."

"Alright, then. But I'll let you have the fluffy pillow."

"How very kind of you," the Original smirked, taking the pillow and blanket as she passed them to him. Elena began sorting through her bags, pulling out a pair of pajamas and quickly ducking into the bathroom. By the time she emerged, Elijah was already on the floor, head propped up by the pillow that was indeed fluffy. She turned off the light, plunging the room into darkness, the faint moonlight trickling in through the curtains illuminating the slope of her nose and the bare curve of her shoulder as she settled under the covers. He could hear her heart rate slowing as fatigue began to grip her, and he'd almost thought she was asleep before her voice called out, "Elijah?"

"Yes, Elena?"

"I've got two questions."

He sighed, scrunching the pillow under his head. "Question away."

"First one: Are you comfy?"

The vampire laughed, amused at her human concerns. "I'm as comfortable as one can be sleeping on a floor that doesn't look like it's seen the end of a vacuum since the sixties."

"Thanks, super helpful," she snarked. He could tell she was rolling her eyes. "Second question: Back in the alleyway, before I helped you-"

"Saved me-"

"Whatever...how did you know I wasn't Katherine?"

Ah, he'd been wondering when she was going to ask that. Elijah had prepared several different answers, but at that moment all he could think to say was the truth, which was, "You smiled at me."

He heard her heart pounding. "I did?"

"You did. Just the tiniest flicker -I don't think you were even aware that you were doing so- but I saw it all the same, and it convinced more than any words ever could. It wasn't just your smile, though. Contrary to popular belief, it is incredibly easy to tell the difference between you and Katerina, and it is not because one of you is human and the other is a vampire."

Curiosity got the best of her. "What is it?"

"Your eyes. Everything you think, everything you feel, I can see it all in your eyes, Elena; your eyes tell me so much. In that moment, they told me that you were glad I was alive, that you were going to save me, even if it put you in harm's way, and they told me that you understood why I had done what I had to you and your friends. It's a vulnerability that Katerina would and never could afford herself, to be so open with another person and not even realize it. But with you...it's how I know, every time, that I can trust you, no matter what my instincts are saying to the contrary. Your eyes are too bright to hold the darkness of deception."

Before she could say anything in reply, before he could reveal any more of himself to her scrutiny, he turned on his side with age-old vampire swiftness and wished her goodnight, his mind warning him of the last time he'd been so open and trusting with a Petrova doppelgänger and the scars she'd left on his heart...

A heart he no longer knew what to do with.

Author's Note: That's it for now, folks! Reviews, reviews, REVIEWS!

I'll be posting chapter four soon, but I'm not sure when yet.

All my love, Temperance Cain.