AN: Hi! It's been a month. I'm here with an update. It's been far too long, I know. And I've had some people asking me about when the Stelena action is going to happen. Well, I'm not going to divulge any clues about this chapter, because I hate spoilers. I'm just telling you, good things come to those who wait! I have awesome things planned for this fic! There's some major people making their entrance, and some reveals of characters already here. I'm hoping you'll like it! Thank you for your reviews and for reading my stories! I appreciate it so much! - M

"Oh. Stefan," Elena frowned, slowly picking out the keys from her bag. "What are you doing here?" She tried jamming one into the lock, but her nerves were past shot. Work, home, work again. It was just putting her into the ground. Stefan watched her curiously, making her skin prickle.

"I just came to see if you're alright. I tried to ask the other girls at the club, but they wouldn't say." She caught the motion of his rolling shoulders out the corner of her eye as she tried the key again. "I was worried about you."

"Well as you see, I'm fine," she said a little snappily, irritated as the key bounced off the brass and made a loud scratch on the door. "God damn it!"

"Do you need help?"

"No!" Finally it slipped into the fitting and turned. Her hands were klutzy, but the door fell open and her purse hit the mat just inside with a soft thud. God, she was such a butterfingers. Stefan shook his head, watching the cold, withdrawn girl on the doorstep as she scrambled to gather her things.

"Elena, why were you crying outside the restaurant?" Her stomach turned a little. How the fuck had he seen her? She shook the little bits of rain off her coat.

"What?"

"Yesterday. I saw you. I was going to check on you but you stormed off before I could."

"I got pissed at Tyler over something. I'm over it."

"You didn't go back inside," he noted, his hands sitting in his pockets. Oh god. She wanted to buckle. Right then and there, she wanted to curl into a ball and sob.

"Uhm..I'm..not..Stefan, I can't...do this right now. Can-can I call you tomorrow or later or see you or-" He held up her packet of pills from the ground and she slowly took them, taking a breath. She felt like she was caving in on herself in every way, and she preferred to do that in her own privacy and not in front of this somewhat stranger. Stefan's forehead wrinkled in concern. What was her issue?

"You need to sit down, Elena." He took her arm, gently nudging her back. She willingly followed, feeling rather weak all of a sudden. Stefan lead her through the smallish house, letting her gently rest on the first piece of furniture he saw.

"Just for a second," she exhaled as she fell onto the overstuffed couch, her body screaming in glorious revelry. She couldn't remember the last time she sat. She was always going, always working. Stefan plucked up a glass of tap water, offering it to her as he observed her, seeing how relieved she looked to be in a seat. She took it and drank a few sips before coaching herself to get back to her feet.

"I can't sit. I've got to tend to-"She tried, but he kept a hand on her. Not like it mattered. He could barely feel her trying to move.

"When was the last time you slept? You're weak as hell." She coughed a laugh.

"I don't have time to sleep. Too much shit to get done before work. Now are you going to let me up?" A voice carried from the room in the back of the house, not weak but not strong either, and almost sounding hopeful.

"Elena? Is that you?"

"Shit. She's awake." Gathering what little of her energy there was, she shoved Stefan's hand aside and jumped to her feet. She wobbled a little and turned to Stefan, giving her most pleading look. "Can you go, Stefan? Please." He was curious about the voice in the backside of the room, but her hurriedness didn't allow him time to ask.

Elena snatched up a blanket from her bed as she scurried to the back room, knowing the draft rolling through this house was probably making her cold. Her muscles ached as she thought about how long she didn't have to sleep after she finished this last task. Everyday she did this, and without a complaint. But it was grinding her flat.

"Hey, sweetie." The woman laid in the bed smiled at her as she came in and Elena couldn't help to return it, no matter how tired it might have looked.

"Hey, mom. Are you feeling okay?" Elena picked up a bottle from the floor and placed it back on the table from where her mother had probably knocked it off.

"Who was outside?" Miranda tried to pull herself up but her muscles refused. Instead, she just rolled over so she could see her diligent little girl touch up the room. This was the worst she had been since her condition began. Step by step, the doctors had told her, she'd lose her strength.

"No..no one." Elena avoided her mother's gaze, gathering up a pile of clothes and dropping them into the hamper. "I'll get your food ready in second, okay? Did the nurse come?" Everyday. The same conversation. Sometimes it was good, other days it didn't even happen. It depended on whether the disease had decided to let Miranda even wake up that morning.

"She did. I got out of bed, but that's as far as it went." Elena frowned. She'd never not been able to walk once she was up. Granted, there were the days she was bedridden, but those days were beside the point.

"Did you take your medicine?" Miranda nodded some, making Elena's chest tighten.

"It's just part of it, baby. You know as well as I do." Forcing a knot down her throat, she picked up the stale water glass and kissed her mother's forehead.

"I'll be back in a few minutes. Okay?" Miranda nodded, smelling the odor of cigarettes that clung to her hair and skin. She hated that the bright and beautiful eyes of her only daughter were now full of nothing but tire. Dark circles met the once-rosy apples of her cheeks. She looked so worn down. It was because of her and she hated it. Even though Elena lied to her about her second job, she knew better. Miranda prayed every morning that someone or something would come to help her child. Maybe she bought a lottery ticket. Maybe she finally listened to her and let her put herself where she wanted to be put. Something to help ease the stress that was weighing on such an undeserving's shoulders. Three years. Three long years. And it wasn't necessarily that Elena didn't listen. She did. She listened to the pleading in her mother's voice. It made her sick at the thought of putting her own mother in a home to die. Because that's what was happening. She was dying. And she was all Elena had left.

Stefan watched as Elena flew out of the room, her tired, exhausted body suddenly filled with energy when she heard that voice. When she opened the door, he saw the quickest glimpse of a woman in the bed, but that was the most he got out of it. Who was she? Elena's sister? Mother? Elena had plead for him to go, so he gathered the glass from the counter and went to dump it in the sink. A myriad of dirty dishes sat, waiting to be put into the washer. A hamper of half-folded clothes sat on the kitchen table. A bucket of cleaning supplies sat, waiting. A sign she was trying her damndest. He turned and started for the door to leave like she asked only to be caught as she was coming out of the bedroom. As soon as she saw him still there, a bit of anger flared in her eyes.

"I thought I asked you to go," she said calm but stern.

"You did," Stefan jumped. "I was just picking up the glass I gave you." Elena pursed her lips, taking the hamper of clothes mounted on her hip into the room and dropping it, her body sagging in relief as she did. She didn't hesitate in returning to the couch and sinking back into her spot where she was before.

"Is that your sister?" he started, glancing to the door she'd just closed. Elena blinked, meeting his gaze.

"Uhm...no. It's not." She sighed, rubbing her face. "My mom. Look, Stefan, I hate to be a bad hostess but can we do this another time? That date, mayb-" Her face fell. "Oh my gosh. That was tonight." Stefan shrugged.

"It's okay. That's why I came over here. The girls at the club told me you were kind of out of it."

"'Girls' being...?"

"The one with the crazy name. Melandine?" Elena rolled her eyes. Of course. "She was worried about you."

"I know. She's my best friend, but sometimes..." Elena laughed a little, more of that exhaustion setting in.

"I went to check on you at the club. She told me you had a rough night and went home early, but she was worried about you. She gave me your address, and here I am. /That's/ my story and I'm sticking to it." Elena laughed again, this time less tense than before.

"I believe you. I do." She let out a sigh, wiping off makeup with a tissue. "I just...I'm sorry, I suck at trusting people." Stefan shrugged, taking a seat beside her again.

"You shouldn't trust people. People suck." Elena furrowed her brow a little.

"You sound like you know from experience." Stefan coughed a laugh.

"You can say that. When your fiance leaves you on your wedding day, sort of puts the damper on things." Elena's jaw fell open.
"She left you at the altar?"

"And never called me again."

"I am so so-"

"Don't." He held up a hand, kind of amused to find himself laughing some at the situation. "It was probably for the best." Elena shook her head, throwing her makeup-covered tissue onto the coffee table. "Your go."

"I just learned not to rely on anyone but myself. Regardless the circumstances. I get it can't be helped, but still. Doesn't make it hurt any less."

"What about your mom?" Elena shook her head again.

"She's sick. Bedridden. She has a disease that slowly eats her muscles up until she can't stand. And eventually, until she can't breathe either." The snapiness in her voice was unable to be missed. "I'm just making her comfortable until that happens."

"Even when you work?" She nodded.

"I work the club, I come home and tend to her where the nurse hasn't, and I go to the diner. Or /did./ I don't have to worry about the diner anymore." Stefan pursed his lips, quickly connecting the dots that were Elena.

"That's what happened," he pushed on, hoping she might talk a little more. Then again, once she started, she didn't seem too shy to tell him despite what she said.

"He's a class A sleeze and I was tired of dealing with it. That's all." She ran her fingers through her hair, shuttering a little. She hated the thought of him. If anything it made her shiver with glee to be out of there.

Stefan was amazed by the dedication Elena had. Easily, she could have stuck her terminally ill mother in a nursing home. But instead, she worked long, insane hours and cared for her herself. Resilience. If he were in her shoes, he wouldn't have made it. There was no way he could do what she did on the daily, trying to keep herself afloat.

"Tyler is a jerk," he went on. "I've heard no one wants to work for him."

"No one does now," she snorted almost in glee. "Thank God." Out the corner of her eye, she saw Stefan rise from his seat.

"Are you leaving?" She'd found herself liking his company. Some sort of human-to-human interaction that didn't involve a payment exchange or chiffon scarves was refreshing. New, almost. Stefan nodded, looking to the watch mounted on his wrist.

"I need to get some sleep so I can try and work some tomorrow."

"Oh." Stefan caught the hint of disappointment lacing her voice.
"We can do this again if you like. I enjoyed talking to you, Elena."

"Oh, yes." A small smile graced her lips. "Sure. I'd like that, actually." He smiled back at her, and he picked a card out of his pocket, handing it to her.

"Call only. That email is deleted and the address was printed wrong." He laughed a little, almost nervous. But Elena nodded, giving him a soft smile.

"First day I'm off, I'll call. Only."