Leave You

"Yes, Care, I'll tell her. No, I get why you can't. Yes, I think it's important you try to fix things with Matt: he's a good guy and we'd all hate to lose him as a friend because of all the supernatural drama. No, I don't have any advice on what you should do about Tyler. Just because I'm in a relationship doesn't mean I suddenly became a love version of the Magic Eight-ball. Okay, I'll tell her how much you love, miss, and wish she would let you plan a part for her. Alright, drive safe. Bye!"

Bonnie hung up the phone, leaning against the fridge as her mind whirred. It was always somewhat mentally taxing getting Caroline to stay on point in a conversation, especially without a cup of coffee in your system. The Bennett witch was now fully caught up on Caroline's previous call with the other side of their trio, in particular the mention of a certain dark-haired Original, and she was determined to find out more when she called Elena after breakfast.

But first, she really needed some caffeine.

Bonnie would be lying if she claimed she wasn't a little hurt by the fact that Elena hadn't told her about this recent development, then again she hadn't called anyone since leaving Mystic Falls. Jeremy had mentioned being on the receiving end of an intense call with Klaus' brother, but he hadn't gone into many specifics, only that Elijah had called him because Elena was upset and he needed some advice on how to help calm her down. Which, Bonnie had to admit, was totally sweet. There had always been...something between the vampire and her doppelgänger best friend, a charge in the room, a crackle in the space between them. Elena seemed to genuinely trust him, and she'd need that if she was going to get Stefan away from Klaus without getting herself into trouble, or worse.

She couldn't quite shake this feeling of disconnect, though, of being out here with her dad's family while everyone she loved was elsewhere, desperately trying to recover, grateful for the semblance of a reprieve from the crazyness that was their lives now that the threat of the sacrifice wasn't looming over them, but Bonnie suspected Klaus wasn't done with Mystic Falls yet, especially not if he found out Elena was alive and well. She couldn't imagine how hard it must be for her, being so worried about Stefan and being away from Jeremy after losing Jenna and John, but Bonnie didn't doubt Elena could handle it: she could handle anything.

The news Caroline had told her, though...it made Bonnie sick to her stomach, and she'd seen a lot in this past year. After storming into the Boarding House when Damon refused to answer his phone after four days, Caroline had forced the elder Salvatore to divulge the secret he'd been keeping from them about Stefan and his Ripper phase, and the information had been passed down through the friendship chain to the necessary parties. The witch suspected that Elijah had likely told Elena all about it, and she hated to be the one to provide her with more gruesome thoughts than she already had about the man she loved so dearly, yet at the same time it was unavoidable. Elena Gilbert was a woman who always demanded the truth, no matter how scary or upsetting or terrifying it may be. And while it had taken a while for Bonnie to warm up to Stefan -the jury was still out on Damon, and likely always would be- she couldn't comprehend that it was him who had done the things Caroline had just told her about.

With Klaus, of all people.

The vampire who had killed Katherine's entire family, just because she refused to be sacrificed, to be the pawn in his bid to rid himself of his curse. The one that had killed Jenna, stripping Elena of the last of her adult family. The monster who had killed Elena herself.

She tried to puzzle it all out, tried to form reasons as to why he was still doing it: the reason he'd gone was simple, to get the cure for Damon's werewolf bite, but he was all better now. It didn't explain why he was still with the newly-minted Original Hybrid, unless he'd sunk so low and turned his humanity off completely. Bonnie hadn't ever met a vampire who had -when she encountered them- 'flipped' this supposed 'switch,' but she shuddered to think of what they could be capable of.

Basically, Elena could be walking into anything. And that scared her. Here she was, safe with family, while her best friend was forced to put her trust in the brother of her murderer, a man they had trusted before only to be betrayed by at the last second. And she got it, she really did; being around Elena made you appreciate the importance of family, made her so grateful that she had a house full of people who loved her, and always would, but that didn't mean she wouldn't worry practically every second of every day until she was standing in front of Elena and could see with her own eyes that she was okay.

Glancing at the clock on the microwave, she decided it was a little early for making dire phone calls, so she headed outside with her tall glass of ice tea to the back garden, the screen door swinging closed behind her with a gentle tap. The grass had grown swiftly in the summer heat, swishing against the tops of her sandals as she traversed the worm garden path, heavy sunlight pressing down and kissing the bare skin of her shoulders. Finally, her destination came into view: the oldest tree in the back yard.

The tree that housed the treehouse.

It was a family staple, subjected to many a makeover throughout the years as each new generation of her dad's family claimed it for themselves. Back when her and Elena and Caroline had been little, it had been papered in Barbie and Disney posters, chock full of cool toys and colouring books and even a karaoke machine. All of that was gone now -except the karaoke machine, which gathered dust in a neglected corner- replaced with the modern crazes of today, including a One Direction magazine she refused to make eye contact with, but the one great thing about it was: no adults allowed.

The perfect place to practice magic.

Of course, Bonnie knew she couldn't do any major spells up here, for one it was too small and she wasn't the biggest fan of heights and this thing was really old, but because...it didn't have the right feel. This was her dad's place, her dad's family, far away from Mystic Falls, the town of her magical Bennett ancestors, and she felt noticeably weaker as a result. She could still do a few things, though. Like, for example, make stars glow on the wood-beamed ceiling, make the ivy climb up the trunk of the tree and set the tire swing revolving in lazy circles. And make it a million degrees cooler in here than it was in the house, even with the AC on full blast.

Being a witch was so cool.

It didn't always feel like that though, certainly not after losing her Grams opening that stupid tomb for a vampire that wasn't even in there, who then proceeded to ruin all their lives when she finally decided to show her face, who had killed their best friend, made Jenna stab herself, and then helped orchestrate her death at Klaus' hands. Recently, she'd felt like a PEZ dispenser, her only value the magic she could bring to the table in times of crisis. And she'd do it. Every single time, Bonnie would always do whatever she could -and a few things she couldn't- for Elena, because they were sisters in everything but blood, but it still hurt to be used. Not that Elena herself wasn't used herself for one thing or another. She suspected the elder Gilbert might secretly appreciated the time away, away from complicated feelings and even more complicated lives.

Balancing her glass on an upturned wicker basket full of dress-up clothes, Bonnie let herself reconnect with her magic, letting it settle in every pore and zap energy into every atom of her being, setting her hair crackling like she'd been head-butting balloons all day. She started off small, a simple spell to keep the ice in her glass from melting, watching as the cubes stopped making their lackadaisical rotations and came to a complete standstill. Next, she cast a privacy spell, just in case anyone did venture up here and overheard the conversation she was about to have. Finally unable to put it off any longer, Bonnie grabbed her cell and dialed the first number on her Speed Dial.

"Hello?"

"Password?" Bonnie demanded, just to be sure. It was true, witches couldn't be compelled, but she could be talking to Katherine for all she knew, so Elena would just have to bear the interrogation.

"Wait, wait, I've got it...Jenny. The password is Jenny. You did always like her more than Valerie."

"Season one of Sabrina was the best and i shall have no arguments to the contrary." Bonnie settled against the array of cushions and throw pillows, curling her legs under her and getting comfortable.

"But what about the Time Ball episode?" Elena countered with. "Everyone loves the Time Ball one."

"As a whole."

"Fine, I give in. Its really great to your voice, Bonnie."

The witch smiled, affection ringing clear in her voice. "It's really good to hear yours too, 'Lena."

"But something tells me you're not calling at the crack of dawn to wax poetic over teen dramas of the nineties. Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong, exactly..." Bonnie fibbed as she twiddled with the straw in her glass, reigning in her chuckle at Elena's shrill tone as she accused, "Bonnie Bennett you are a terrible liar and you know it, now spill."

"I'm telling the truth: nothing's wrong with me. It's just...Caroline and Jeremy went to see Damon-"

"Wait, Jeremy's willingly checking up on Damon now? When did that happen?" Elena interrogated disbelievingly, as if the idea of them two in a room together was more unthinkable than vampires and werewolves roaming around.

"Apparently, they've been hanging out more recently, especially when Ric's around. My guess is that he thinks since you're not here, it's his responsibility as the only big brother around to keep an eye on him. I can't say that I disapprove: if anyone can keep Jeremy safe, it's Damon. But as for his personality...let's just hope nothing rubs off too much. Anyway, they went over to the Boarding House yesterday to make sure Damon was...recovering from an incident-"

"You mean he likely drank himself half to death and smashed anything breakable within a two mile radius." Her eye roll was noticeable even through the phone.

Bonnie's brow involuntarily quirked up. "Someone's using their judgey voice."

"I'm not judging," Elena sighed wearily. "He's one of my closets friends and I hate it when he lashes out like that, there's no need for it. I'm not doing this just for me, you know, I'm doing it for him, too, and he should respect that whilst not trying to bash anything that isn't tied down."

"I'm sure he does, but he misses you and he misses Stefan, it's only natural to feel kinda abandoned." Geez what alternate universe had she ended up in? One were she was defending and justifying the actions of Damon Salvatore, apparently.

"Is he the only one?"

"Jeremy's okay, Elena. Like I said, Damon and Alaric are on babysitting duty," Bonnie was quick to remind her, knowing that his well-being was and always would be her top priority, no matter where she was.

"I was talking more about you, actually, considering everything you went through for me, when we were trying to get rid of Klaus, and Jeremy dying, heck, even you died, Bonnie. That's not nothing. I just died, and it was only for a little while, and it totally sucked, but at least I knew I was coming back, either way."

Studying her nails, she tried to brush the intensity of her best friend's words aside with a half-hearted, "It was just for a bit, Elena."

She was having none of it though. "Oh, no. Don't you play that 'It was just for a bit' card with me, Bonnie. If you need to talk, then I'm hear to listen."

"How can you read me so well even though you can't see my face?"

"Why, my mystical doppelgänger powers, of course." Then, after a pause she tagged on, "And because I've been spending all my time with a charming Original vampire who is surprisingly easy to read once you know just where to look."

"I resent the implication that I am so easily understood," Elijah's deep, lilting voice was easily distinguishable in the background, but never had Bonnie heard it so easy, teasing even. But she couldn't say she was surprised: Elena could get a glacier to melt just by asking how it's day was going.

"Hi, Elijah."

"Hello, Miss Bennett," the Original greeted warmly. "Please be informed that Miss Gilbert only awoke half an hour ago and therefore cannot be held accountable for anything she says regarding me."

"What if it had been something nice?"

"Then, naturally, I would not be frowning at you in abject disapproval, would I?"

"You two seem awfully cozy," Bonnie smirked, knowing there was going to be one hell of a story for her and Caroline at the end of all this.

"Enough with the distraction tactics, missy: out with it."

"Well," the witch defended, "I could argue that you were the one distracting me, but I won't. Info first, emotional meltdown later. So, long story short, Caroline got a new lead from Damon. Supposedly, he made Andie put out some reporter feelers and one of her fellow news anchoresses told her all about this story she was covering, and now Damon's adamant that Stefan and Klaus were behind it."

"Okay..." Elena let out a shallow breath, and it physically pained Bonnie that she couldn't be there to provide her with some semblance of comfort, but this had to be said.

"Naturally, they both had a few things to say to him when they found out he'd been using her for her contact among...other things."

"God, am I gonna shout at him when I get home," the Gilbert interjected, and Bonnie caught the faintest huff of laughter in the background. So, the suited robot's capable of laughter after all, she mused drily to herself.

"After you give him a big hug and tell him how much you missed him and then deliver Stefan like an early Christmas present, you mean." No matter how much she protested, no matter how much crap he put her through or what crazy plan he concocted, Bonnie understood that Elena would always feel something for Damon, and that was just the way it was, even if she believed he didn't deserve her forgiveness, not by a long shot.

"I don't think it's as simple as that, Bon. I went to the morgue, looked at the bodies he left behind...and it scared me. Plus, Klaus sent a bunch of his lackeys after Elijah and which I am totally pissed off about even though someone insists that it isn't that big of a deal."

"It really isn't, Elena," Elijah protested, and Bonnie astutely sensed that this was a rare glimpse into something she'd otherwise never see, and she was content to sit back, drink her tea and listen to them talk like they'd known each other forever.

"Tell that to the flooring I spent an hour helping you clean last night."

"You mean before you fell asleep and almost landed headfirst into the water bucket, of course."

Oooh, point to Elijah, Bonnie cheered mentally.

"Not my finest moment," Elena admitted with an embarrassed laugh.

Elijah teased mercilessly, "I'm sure you're drooling did wonders for removing all the blood."

"Shut up, Elijah! Sorry, had to go punch an Original in the arm. Okay, where was this, Bon?"

Bonnie told her about the diner, about the innocents slaughtered, the waitress drained of all her blood and posed in a booth to look like she was sleeping, the only thing keeping her head attached to her body the vinyl behind her.

"That's only a few hours away," her friend noted, apprehension and anxiety and dread rolled into one.

"Elena, there's something else you should know, the main thing I didn't want to tell you."

"What could possibly be worse than this?" Elena demanded, likely not wanting to know the answer.

"Damon's driving up there. Today."

Bonnie could picture her going still as clear as day, could picture the shock in her eyes and the panicked settling across her features.

"I can see why you didn't want to tell me."

As a vampire, you learn to pack light. When you have to live with the fact that you can be exposed at the drop of a hat, you learn not to get too sentimental, too emotionally attached to anything. In the end, all Damon took with him was a few clean clothes, a couple stakes -the pointy, wooden kind, not the chewy, meaty kind- his cell and a cooler full of blood, since he was not going to do the whole, 'I'll be an idiot and not take my food with me since I'll only be gone for two days, only to end up starved and exhausted and draining Bambi's as a last resort' thing.

This one was different. He could feel it. This one had purpose behind it, planning. And since Stefan wasn't known as being the sturdiest crayon in the pencil case when it came to planning...that meant Klaus wanted something, and that was very, very bad. For Klaus. For Damon, it meant that he'd finally found some leverage that wasn't Petrova cookie-cutter shape, and if he did this right then everyone's favourite doppelgänger wouldn't even have to be in the same zip code as the Hybrid bastard. He'd get Stefan himself, hopefully avoiding Klaus' pointy teeth in the process, since a werewolf bite was the reason they were in this giant mess in the first place, and then they could all go back to their regularly scheduled programming.

"Have you got everything you need?" Andie asked from the doorway, head tilted with that bland, mega-watt smile on her face. He knew what he'd been doing to her was wrong, that she wasn't some toy to be used and discarded, that she as a living, breathing person and that he was taking advantage of her and all that...but he was lonely. So, damn lonely and he just wanted somebody to talk to, someone he could pour out his frustrations to and not have to worry about the consequences.

But she was no Elena Gilbert.

Her smile didn't light up the room, her laugh didn't warm his undead heart, and her tears didn't make him want to tear apart the world and eradicate anyone and anything that could or would ever hurt her. She didn't make him feel human, only reminded him of what a monster he was and all the awful things he'd done, and continued to do. But he needed that reminder, because it was the one way he could go up against Stefan and have any chance of emerging intact.

Only a monster could beat a monster, and on human blood, his brother was the worst of them all, and there was no Lexi to pull him back from the brink of self-destruction and the inevitable self-flagellation that would proceed it once all those pesky martyr feelings made their inevitable comeback.

"Yeah, I've got everything," he grumbled as he knocked back the last of the bourbon in his glass, moving past her and fishing his keys out of his jeans pocket as he opened the front door, unceremoniously tossing his bag in the backseat of his beloved Camaro, the seemingly only consistent thing in his life. That, as well as his penchant for falling in love with his brother's girls and rescuing said brother from himself.

"I can house-sit while you're gone," she offered weakly, absently spinning her bracelet around her wrist and tapping a stilettoed foot against the paving of the driveway. "Hold down the fort and all that."

"I doubt anyone's gonna want to invade Castle Salvatore, but I'm sure Ric will be sneaking into the wine cellar soon enough: he can handle it."

"Alright," she nodded jerkily, gaze darting to his then straying once again. "Well, have a safe trip, I guess. And call me if you need anything."

She was nice. While this thing with them hadn't started out right,

"Andie?"

"Yeah, Damon."

He pecked her on the cheek, fleeting and quick, yet still ultimately genuine. "Thanks."

"The way I see it, there are three options at hand," Elijah posed to Elena as they pulled off the interstate, having finished her conversation with Miss Bennett only a few minutes ago, full of teary, "I miss you's" and "I'll see you soon's" and even a "Thank you for the CD" on Elena's part. While he couldn't say he was thrilled by the insinuating tone of the witch's observation that they seemed 'cozy,' he could hardly say that he was sorry. Being around Elena undoubtedly bought out the humanity in him, and if even a near-stranger could so easily pick up on his changed temperament...then so be it.

"Number one, Mr Salvatore gets there before us, in which he will likely destroy any useful information we might obtain from the scene. Number two, we get there before him and make sure he remains oblivious to our whereabouts."

"What's number three?" Elena interrupted before he could finish, attention fixed solely on him and not the shifting landscape around them.

He flashed her a devilish smirk, the kind that would make his brother Kol proud. "I incapacitate him -with an immense sense of satisfaction- and proceed to snap his neck like a twig until I get bored of it."

"Elijah!" she reprimanded sternly, but he was not bothered by it. In actual fact, he'd expected far more protest than that.

"Elena. Just because I've forgiven you doesn't mean I've forgiven him, not by any means. He is, as you young people say, a total idiot, and he made me break my promise to you regarding the elixir. He should not have taken you choice away from you by forcing his blood on you, not even out of some misguided sense of affection and concern for your safety. The only reason you currently stand before me as a human being is because your friends were able to find an alternative at the eleventh hour, and that itself was no without consequence. So no, if I encounter him, you cannot ask me to go easy on him."

"Are you saying that because he could ruin our plan, or because you don't like him?"

"He did try to put a dagger in my chest," Elijah pointed out in his defense. He had, admittedly, killed people in the past for lesser offenses than that.

"You seemed to forgive me just fine."

Of course she'd play that particular card. Damn, she could never let anything go, could she? He supposed he was much the same, in his own way.

Elijah decided to downplay the intensity of her remark with flattery. "Ah, but you're much prettier than him, and far better company. Plus, you actually apologized, whereas his was far from genuine, and done only out of the hope of continued survival."

"Everyone makes mistakes, Elijah," Elena prodded relentlessly. "Everyone does stupid things in times of stress and uncertainty."

"What is Damon's excuse then? It's you that's always in peril, not him."

Elena shrugged breezily. "Call it peril by association. If you stick around, I'm sure you'll experience it for yourself," she warned with a wry smile.

"I suspect you're right, although I'll be the first to say thag I've endured enough of my own particular brand of peril, just bearing the last name Mikaelson."

"Your family really has that many enemies?"

"When you're alive for a thousand years, the art of pissing people off often becomes an art form, and Niklaus is quite the master of it," he said by way of answer, mind wandering to every fight he had ever pulled his brother from, every confrontation he'd tried to diffuse with civility and diplomacy. His mind was a catalogue of slights and fights and disagreements, of arguments and reconciliations and broken promises, with a smattering of happy recollections scattered throughout to break up the heartbreaking monotony. A thousand years, he'd been alive for a thousand years. If he lived a thousand more, would he ever be successful in ridding himself and his family of this endlessly repetitive, destructive cycle?

Elena soon pulled Elijah back from the brink of morbid thoughts, her laughter soothing him with startling ease as she teased fondly, "Hey, I'm sure you're not so bad at it yourself."

"I'm going to take that as a well-meant compliment, and not an insult."

"Good." Elijah not only heard, but felt her quick inhalation of breath, like she was readying herself to say something but was unsure how it would be perceived on his part. In the end, it shouldn't have shocked him, for it was a mere, innocent question, but it was still a revelation to the senses, a blast of incredulity and perhaps a little wonder, that Elena Gilbert of all people had pondered and deliberated over such a thing, over him, at great length.

"So last night, when we were cleaning up, I was doing some thinking, and I wanted to ask...once we find Stefan and he's back in Mystic Falls away from Klaus, what are you going to do? I mean, you can't kill him, so once you have your big all-out, no-holds-barred fight at the end of which either you'll finally force him to give your family back or you'll be in some serious need of TLC...what I suppose I'm trying to say is, will I ever see you again? Would you ever think about sticking around Mystic Falls? I know it's not the same as it was a thousand years ago, obviously, but I'd be lying if I said it wouldn't be nice to have another friend around, that being you that is. Not Klaus. Okay, I'm gonna take your continuing silence as a 'no' and sink into my seat and hope the ground swallows me whole..."

Elijah paused, ruminating on the best way to convey his complicated thoughts without disregarding the kindness of her welcoming declaration whilst at the same time being firm on why such a thing could never be. "It's not a no, Elena, not entirely. In truth, I haven't given the idea much thought; I try not to look to far ahead, to let myself hope lest I do not reach whatever goal I've set out to achieve. It would be...it would be a fantasy made flesh, to have my family back together, in one piece, back in the place we grew up in. But I sincerely doubt Klaus would ever allow such a thing to come to pass, moreover the threat our presence would pose to you and your loved ones. Our father is still out there, somewhere, and while there has not been word of him for decades that does not mean we can all rest easy. At the end of it all, I suppose it just depends on how these next few weeks pan out."

Elena brushed her hand against his reassuringly -deliberately- as she retrieved her bottle of water from the cup holder by his elbow. "Well, if you ever did want to, I know someone who could help you throw a mean housewarming party," she suggested as she took a sip, and it required no stretch of the imagination to guess as to the identity of such a person. Thinking of Miss Forbes and her famed planning capabilities led, unexpectedly, to thoughts of his beloved baby sister.

"My sister Rebekah was always partial to a good soiree," Elijah recalled to Elena, a smile forming unbidden on his face just by saying her name aloud. "Back in New Orleans, sometimes the gatherings we hosted went on for days." Yes, days spent drinking and celebrating and unburdened, whole and content as they had never been before, and had never been since.

"I can't picture you as much of a partying guy," Elena drawled, squinting as if trying to picture him sporting a party hat and surrounded by streamers. Even a writer such as herself would likely have difficulty conjuring such a thing, given his stoic and often-cold exterior. That wasn't who he was, though, not always, and the more time he spent in Elena's presence, the more he found himself unable to curb the needling impulse to unmask the more genuine sides of himself, unpolished as they may be.

So he found himself replying, "Perhaps not as enthusiastically as my siblings were wont to do, its true, but I assure you, Elena, that I was, in actual fact, quite the dancer in my day."

She made a face as if she didn't fully believe him, but all she said was, "I suppose I'll have to take your word for it."

"You never know: I might deign to show you what a thousand years can teach you on the dance floor," the vampire offered, not unaware of the absurdity of the situation. Him, Elijah Mikaelson, compared more to a block of ice and stone than a real being, murderer and monster -perhaps even more so than his brother Niklaus, since he still loved his half brother dearly and thought him not beyond redemption- suggesting a dance to the girl he had let die not two weeks ago?

It seemed Elena didn't see it that way, though, not that he'd expected much of a differing reaction from her.

"How could I ever hope to keep up in the face of that kind of experience?" she worried at her bottom lip in a manner that was, admittedly, entirely distracting and doing irreparable damage to the shreds of his self-control. Why was the white oak stake when you needed it to get you out of uncomfortably not uncomfortable situations?

"Something tells me you'd do just fine, Miss Mystic Falls Handmaiden," Elijah muttered distantly, planting his gaze on the curving highway ahead.

"You know about that?"

A smirk rose at the blush on her cheeks. "You seem to forget how beloved your are by the people of your home, Elena; there's pictures of the Founder's Day parade all over the websites I browsed while doing my 'research.'"

"Right, I'd almost forgotten about that," Elena mused, "you doing the whole, 'I'm a suave historian who wants to write about your quaint little town, let me charm you with my accent and dashing good looks while I pretend you're telling me stuff I don't already know.'"

The Mikaelson, through sheer force of will honed throughout his life to an excruciatingly expert degree, chose not to dwell on any of the positive comments regarding him that could be so easily construed and countered, "Actually, I did learn a few things."

She raised a brow. "Yeah, like what?"

"That, my dear Elena, is a secret best left for another time." While this particular secret may not be important to her, it was to him, and he intended to keep it until the right moment.

"Fine," Elena aquiesced with a regal flip of her hair. "Just promise me you won't hurt Damon if we come across him; he's been through enough already."

His jaw twitched, veins pulsing rapid-fire at the mere mention of the insufferable Salvatore. When would she stop making excuses for people who didn't deserve it?

"Haven't you?" Elijah bit out angrily through gritted teeth, as if her words had inflicted physical pain "This last year, haven't you suffered enough agony and torment, even at the hands of the man who you are defending to me? Does he really deserved to be spared from whatever degree of wrath I choose to rain down upon him?" The vampire needed a good kick in the head, a lesson in manners, and a reminder of the feministic ways of the 21st century.

"You're not a vengeful man, Elijah: you don't hurt people just for the sake of it. Everything Damon's done, every move he's made, he's done for love. I said that to Stefan once, and I still believe it now."

"Love is not an excuse for everything, Elena. It can be a poison as much as it is a gift."

"Isn't everything in life? Look, I know you don't like him, so I'm not gonna ask you to write ballads in his honour and make matching friendship bracelets, I'm just asking that if you see him, you don't kill him. Think you can manage that?"

"I'll try," Elijah finally succumbed to her obstinate will, "but I make no promises. Certainly if he lays a hand on you."

"That's all I'm asking. But for the record, I think you enjoy the whole concept of 'Protecting Elena the Damsel' way too much."

"Maybe because I'm the only person who can actually do it, and do it well. You must admit, the Salvatore's have a dismal record when it comes to keeping you safe," he muttered darkly. Never send a baby vampire to do an Originals job; Elijah had leant that the hard way.

Elena defended sadly, "They tried their best: I'm simply too stubborn to listen."

"No, I think you're just stubborn enough. You can be quite reasonable when you want to be."

"Oh, was that a compliment? It was so sweet," Elena deadpanned. "I'll have to get that framed, right next to the Elijah Mikaelson classics 'Are you negotiating with me?' and my personal favourite, 'I believe the term you're searching for is "OMG,'" now that was a thing of beauty."

"As was your gaping-mouthed expression," Elijah noted smugly. Yes, in thar moment, he'd found it almost impossible not to laugh, only his centuries of self-restraint disallowing him from breaking the serious -and necessarily so- atmosphere in the room.

"You're embellishing."

"I'm not," he promised her. "If you'd maintained such an expression for much longer, I was worried I'd have to pick your jaw off the floor myself."

Elena rolled her eyes, firing back with another, "Shut up."

"Never. It appears my life's purpose is not to salvage the remaining dregs of my brothers humanity after all, but merely remind you of embarrassing spectacles and lord them over you to my own pleasure."

"Jerk."

"Martyr."

"Know-it-all."

"Caffeine addict."

"Pocket square weirdo."

Elijah gasped. "You take that back, young lady. Everyone should appreciate a good pocket square."

"If you're James Bond, maybe."

"Mr Bond has nothing on me," the vampire scoffed oozing superiority. "For one, my choice of automobile is far superior, as is my drink preferences. Moreover, I'd never kill a spider when I could put it out the window."

"Elijah Mikaelson: protector of insects everywhere," Elena declared, reading an invisible title.

"Actually, spiders are classed as arachnids, Elena dear, but you do remain correct. My siblings never liked them as children, so I was tasked with disposing of them humanely."

"You're much braver than me, then: Elena and spiders are mortal enemies on the battlefield that is the Gilbert bathroom."

"Everyone's afraid of something," Elijah noted wisely.

Her response hit him out of the blue: "What are you afraid of?"

There was so many answers to that question.

Failing my family, becoming my brother, looking in the mirror and being unable to bear the sight of the person I have become. Or, perhaps most frightening of all: You, Elena. My unstoppable, inevitable, dangerous feelings for you.

He said none of that, though. He wasn't an idiot.

Elijah shrugged carelessly at her, hoping his tone of voice would not betray him. "An unsymmetrical pocket square."

If only.

Writing in a car was as entirely awkward as one would expect, even at the snail's pace Elijah was currently going at. Her notebook kept bumping her knees, and every time he took a curve she has to grip onto her pen for dear life, pressing down so hard on the nib it almost tore the fragile page. It was her first entry in her new journal, and after the rollercoaster of a week she'd just been through, it felt liberating to get it all down on paper, clear and clinical, succinct and precise, all there in blue pen.

Elijah, unlike most, was happy to let her be, not interrupting her with questions or making her feel bad for not offering some sort of conversation to pass the time. Glancing up idly, the blaring of a neon sign catching in the side mirror caught her attention, and she soon discarded her journal in the backseat.

"We should stop there," Elena indicated the electric-blue Vacancy sign buzzing in front of the motel, hanging precariously above a small parking area.

"I may be driving," Elijah noted exasperatedly, "but I am not your driver, Miss Gilbert."

Elena let a short laugh slip out. "Ha. Like Driving Miss Stacy?" Off Elijah's incredulous expression, Elena elaborated, "You know, the movie? With the guy who's the driver and the woman who's...Nevermind. My point is, we're gonna be at the diner soon, and I for one would feel better knowing we've got the whole 'Where are we going to be sleeping tonight?' dilemma out of the way beforehand. Plus, if Damon really is around, I'd rather know we had a place of retreat already in place.

Elijah blinked, the car slowing somewhat but not stopping.

"Elena, it's likely not even two stars: a man has standards."

Was Elijah Mikaelson moaning about room service and not having mints on pillows, prioritizing stupid things over survival? Then again, his suit probably cost more than her first car, so really she shouldn't have expected any less.

"Get through today, worry about hygiene and a lack of lobster thermidor later."

The vampire seemed gearing up to protest, but wordlessly turned on the indicator. Elena beamed internally at her victory.

"I think I'm rubbing off on you." She couldn't tell of he was happy about that or not.

"But your suit isn't even glittery," she joked, if only to make him smile.

She did.

"I'd never be caught dead in one of those," Elijah shuddered violently, and the sight was almost cute, coming from him.

"Lucky for you, you're already dead."

Elena handled signing in, not even bothering to argue when Elijah took her bags for her. Slumping backwards onto the bed -which was incredibly lumpy- she stared at the crocheted coaster on the beside table.

"God, I would kill for a packet of M&Ms," she sighed wearily, as if beseeching some unknown entity to relive her of her suffering. Just in case there in fact was, she added, "And a Coke."

Elijah's eyes gleamed with amusement as he surveyed her. "Do you want me to make a trip to the vending machine for you? No illegal acts required."

Elena sprang up from the bee like a jack-in-the-box, kissed him on the cheek and handed him a ten dollar bill. "You're a gem."

"I try."

It took an embarrassingly long five minutes for Elijah to figure out how to use the vending machine. In the end, it took a strong vampire-fueled kick to the hunk of metal for him to get the damn candy out -she really had him wrapped around her little finger, didn't she?- before he had both of her demands in hand.

He felt him before he saw him, and he heard him before he taunted arrogantly, "Well, well, well. If it isn't my least favourite backstabbing elder Original wacko."

Elijah turned slowly, each movement fluid and graceful, fangs sharp but cunning sharper. "Hello, Damon."

It was time for Elijah to repay some old debts.

Author's Note: Hello, everyone! Sorry Thai took me so long: I had trouble getting Bonnie's POV just right, and I wasn't sure how I wanted to end the chapter so it took me a few tries. Anyway, thank you so much for reading this, and if you enjoyed it please let me know!

Until next time...when I'm introducing Klaus, BTW!

All my love, Temperance Cain.