Warning: Use of language in this chapter, as well as canon-typical violence and mild torture. Also, you have to have read both 'How Long Did It Take?' and 'It's Gonna Take A Lot (To Drag Me Away From You)' for this to make sense.

Elijah used to like the quiet. Before his siblings were born, he'd often spent time alone, mind occupied with nothing but his own thoughts, thinking up stories or wondering about other people's and places. As time went by, quiet became something else. Quiet meant that Niklaus was in too much pain to speak, Rebekah was too scared to ask him to come play with her, Kol was too despondent to tell jokes. Right now, as he stared listlessly out of the window in his room at the Abattoir, he'd never hated anything more than this unsettling absence of sound. Because it meant Elena was gone. It meant that she was putting her life in danger yet again, because it was the only option, yet again. It meant that he was alone, and miserable, and he just wanted to go back in time to last week when everything had been perfect. So blissfully perfect, the kind he had never before experienced in his life, not even when he was human.

She could be hurt. She could be captured. She could be in some Traveler stronghold somewhere with a stake through her heart as they bled her dry...

"I know we don't need to sleep, Elijah, being eternal beings and all, but at the very least it gives us an excuse to buy expensive pajamas and silk brocade pillowcases," came Niklaus's voice, humour tinged with sharp-edged concern, a balancing act he was new at yet appeared to be sufficiently mastering. "And, you know, it has the added bonus of allowing us to take a break from pacing and listlessly staring out of windows like nineteenth century poets for multiple hours on end."

Glancing at his watch, he realized he had indeed been maintaining this position for over two hours now, without even realizing the passage of time. The Original didn't even turn around as he dismissed his brother with a quick, "I'm fine, Niklaus. There's no need for you to check up on me."

"Isn't there?" the hybrid insisted, harassing him as only a sibling could. "Elijah, you have to have faith in your girlfriend, you have to trust that she knows what she's doing, that she can handle herself. She's not a human anymore; she's a vampire, of my bloodline no less. She's survived worse things than a couple of nomadic hippies chanting around a campfire. She survived *us," he added with a slightly bemused, deprecating smirk, likely recalling all the many ways his presence had upset the metaphorical applecart, intentionally or otherwise.

Now wasn't the time to pick a fight. Now was the time to maintain some semblance of calm, or at the very least not fly off the handle whenever his baby brother irked him, yet Elijah couldn't stop himself from exclaiming, "But she shouldn't have! She shouldn't have to endure these things, Niklaus! She is the most decent person I have ever met, and all I want to do is hold on to her and treat her as she deserves, and I can't even do that! She was here a month and yet she has had to put up with power struggles and factions and murder and bloodshed." He sighed, admitting to his reflection more so than his sibling in the room, "She deserves better...better than me."

"Do you really think that?" Klaus wondered, saturated with skepticism. "Do you think the Salvatore's could have taken better care of her? You know they're the reason she died -the second time around, anyway, the first was me. Elijah, my dear brother, where is all this coming from?" He frowned. "I know you're worried, but I thought you parted on loving terms."

Elijah nodded briskly. "You're right, Niklaus; I am worried. Our family...loving any of us is a death sentence. Tatia died. You lost Aurora, I lost Aya. Our actions lead to the death of Katerina as we knew her. Celeste died because of me, because I picked my loyalty to you over her. I don't want Elena to be next. I don't. I can't bear it, brother. I'm supposed to be the stoic one, the one that our siblings come to in times of trouble, who they know will listen and do whatever is necessary to make things right, the strong one that can weather any storm -usually caused by your hand. But not now. Not today. Today I feel as helpless as I did when I had to watch our father hurt you, or the day our mother cursed you. And that is what scares me most of all. Elena and I have been together a month, hardly any time at all, certainly not for a vampire, let alone an Original, but I already feel so broken and empty without her."

Smiling softly, his brother perched on the windowsill, legs crossed at the ankle as he pointed out blankly, "Because you've always loved her, brother, even though I didn't realize it at first. Because you formed an attachment to her, likely from the moment you met her."

"What makes you say that?" the Original couldn't help but question him. "We weren't even on speaking terms then; you never saw how I was with her."

"I don't need to have seen it, Elijah. You're my brother, I know you. Inside out, back to front and upside down. She's a doppelgänger, so she immediately would have sparked your interest. She's got that Petrova fire, but it burns for others, and not herself, unlike Katerina. Elena understands the importance of family, and she was far braver than any other seventeen year old you'd ever met, I'd wager. She was your hope for getting back at me, your hope for reuniting our family, but that wasn't all of it, no. She probably treated you like an actual person, probably asked you questions and wanted to hear your opinions; she took an interest in you, because that's just who she is. Am I right?"

Elijah conceded, "You are," surprised to find that his brother had such a startling insight into his psyche. Perhaps Miss O'Connell was rubbing off on him more than he had previously anticipated. It was a welcome change of pace, to be sure.

"And for us, that is a rarity in the extreme sense of the word," his brother continued, eyes shadowed by the ghosts of the past. "We've flitted about from place to place, birds without a nest, free to roam but never to settle, nomadic and isolated from people and the staples of the human experience. I used to think that was for the best, that it was an advantage, even -why should we pretend to be lesser creatures when in the end it yielded no real, lasting benefits?- but now, as I think about my daughter and the kind of life I want her to have...I don't want her to live like we had to, Elijah. She deserves everything our own parents could or never would give us. This is our place, our home, and we will fight to keep it ours, so that we can make it hers. And for you, I know Elena plays a vital part in that. To begin with, you seemed entirely uninterested in any sort of leadership position, wresting control only out of some undisclosed desire to rile me up, to make me care. But I have learned, however, that you really do care. You are a far better instrument of peace than I could ever be, brother. Mainly because if I see a problem, I'm more of a 'Rip out their heart, ask questions later' kind of chap. You can wait. Can be patient. Then, when you indeed do something exquisitely horrific, it carries a far greater weight."

A smile cracked through his rigid melancholia. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Niklaus grinned back. "See that you do. If it's any consolation...I am sorry, Elijah, about all of this. After everything you've done for me, these past few months especially, I wish I had more than words to give you, wish I could somehow fix this for you. Despite being the most powerful being in the planet, it seems I can't fix everything."

It was a momentus thing for his brother to admit to any weakness, let alone one as great as this. For him to apologize, especially when he wasn't at fault...he almost didn't know what to say. Almost.

"Thank you, Niklaus. I assure you, your words help more than you know."

An electric buzzing broke the brotherly moment, and Elijah had his phone in his hand instantly, heart and mind settling as he read the message. Ever the eternal snoop, Klaus peered at the screen over his shoulder, wondering curiously, "Is that Mandarin? Since when does Elena speak Mandarin?"

Elijah beamed proudly. "Since I taught her to."

After their first night together in New Orleans, Elijah had awoken to find the other side of the bed empty and cold, and for a minute he had the terrifying thought that it had all been a dream, that Elena hadn't come to find him and declare her feelings, that he hadn't responded in kind, that he hadn't spent hours upon hours kissing every inch of her...only to hear some shuffling noises coming from his private study. Interest piqued, he dressed as quietly as he could, looking for his shirt for several minutes only to come up empty. Crossing the short span of hallway, Elijah opened the heavy oak door. And froze.

Dressed in his missing shirt -only his missing shirt- with buttery shafts of morning sunlight glistening off her chestnut locks, arms laden with books, was Elena. Spotting him leaning in the doorway, she offered him an awkward wave before depositing her load on the shelf.

"Hi," she smiled warmly, "I didn't wake you with my crashing and banging, did I?"

"No," he assured her, coming up behind her to plant a kiss on her bare shoulder -his shirt really was too big for her, but he did adore the sight of her wearing it, of her being covered in him- "you didn't. What are you up to, sweetheart?"

A tantalizing blush crept up her cheeks, her heartbeat rising slightly as she said, "Well, after, um, yesterday, I felt bad about the mess, so I wanted to clean it up."

Elijah grinned wickedly, spinning her so that she was centimetres away from his face. "You mean when I had my way with you, and then you with me, and then we eventually managed to navigate ourselves to my bedroom..."

Elena nodded, biting her bottom lip. "Yeah, that. You know how I am about books. And messes. Ergo, me up at the crack of dawn. Besides, your books are too nice to just leave on the floor, especially since most of them are first editions and all. Like this one." She plucked up a book, seemingly at random. "The Art of Learning Mandarin, signed by the author. You speak Mandarin? Consider me jealous. My forays into learning languages include some pretty sketchy French and some appalling Spanish. It's actually on the list of things I want to do," she admitted, looking not at him but the shelf above her, "now that I'm a vampire: learn another language. It's up there with writing a novel, getting trapped in a bookstore overnight and seeing how many shoes I can buy before Caroline swoops in to steal them."

Why was he not surprised? "I'll teach you," he offered, instantly and sincerely, utterly transfixed as a glorious smile broke out on her face. "Really?" Elena cleared her throat. "I mean, great. Awesome. Cool. Oh, what the heck," she muttered before snaking her arm around his shoulders and pulling him towards her, capturing his lips with his, just as magical and passionate as the first time, as he knew it would be every other time as well.

Looking up at him through her lashes sweetly, she asked him, "Feel like giving your girlfriend a hand with all this?"

He took her hand in his, thumb tracing over her knuckles in lazy circles. "To be completely honest, there a few more pressing things I could do with my time this morning, but since it's you asking, I am yours to command. I only have one request."

Elena arched a teasing brow. "What?"

"Don't take off my shirt."

"We spent more time kissing each other than we did cleaning up," Elijah recalled softly, a hesitant smile finding it's way through the stone of his features, "and to be honest I wasn't even paying much attention to what I was teaching her, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised; Elena has always succeeded my expectations, in every way imaginable."

Nicklaus shook his head grimly. "Gross, brother. Thinking of you being so mushy is simply revolting. And I really didn't need such excessive detail. My Mandarin is, admittedly, a little rusty. Care to translate for me?"

"'Zhe shi jie shang, wo shi zui ai ne de.' In all the world, you are what I love the most."

"So, at least we now know Elena is alright enough to be professing her undying love for you. Is that enough to satisfy your troubled mind into actually getting some sleep, or at the very least some rest? Today isn't going to be a pleasant one; I wouldn't be surprised if the witches chose now to strike, to bombard us when we are at our weakest."

"And what of Marcellus?" Elijah couldn't help but ask. "What shall we do when your magnanimous grace period runs out?"

His brother shrugged, nonchalantly, a seemingly innocent and innocuous move, yet something of the predator lurked in the line of his shoulders, the tilt of his head. "We'll just have to wait and see."

Klaus felt a little bit hypocritical. Despite his many urgings to his brother to get some rest, here he was himself, wide awake, staring at his latest blank canvas, an overfull glass of bourbon gripped in his hand almost to the point of breaking. It hadn't been his brother's anguish that roused him from sleep, but dreams of his father, Mikael. Fortunately, even he, who lacked a psychology degree, could figure out why. He was scared. Scared of being a father, scared of becoming his father. Scared of not being good enough for his daughter, of being powerless. Recent events certainly didn't help to persuade him otherwise. While it was the nature of anything mortal to die, and he was certainly no stranger to the passing of humans and vampires alike, this particular one tore at his insides more than he'd anticipated.

Father Kieran was dead, by his hand. Twice-over, since it had been his blood that turned him, at Cami's desperate insistence. And he'd do it again, if asked. She had a peculiar power over him, one Klaus didn't like to divert too much time into think about, lest he come to any conclusions best left unknown in the depths of his mind. Cami -who, in a cruel twist of fate- had indeed found companionship in his former protegé. He didn't know what to make of that. When Genevieve had first told him, he'd been near-incandescent with rage, burning with a kind of fury he had not experienced in some time, feeling a depth of betrayal that did not match the crime. He'd been angry at her, although he had no reason to be; there was nothing between them but a tentative truce at best. She needed help, and he came. He needed someone to talk to, and she'd sit and listen. That was it. That was all, all it was, and forever would be.

He wished, interestingly, that Elena was still there, that she could offer him some advice: there was no one better suited than she to council him on matters of the heart, given her past history with the Salvatore brothers, the fact that she'd been human more recently than he had, as well as her close friendship with Camille. And it would have had the added bonus for her of having blackmail material on him, which would no doubt come in handy at some point, especially in their family. His friendship with her mattered. Elena knew the worst he could do, had suffered through it and yet found it in herself to forgive him, or at the very least cohabitate with him, whilst Cami had only ever heard stories, recounts of his monstrosity; Elena had seen it up close, yet she had stayed. Of course, she wouldn't have wanted to be somewhere else while Elijah had stayed at the compound, but he was sure his brother would have changed his local should his presence have been a true issue.

They hadn't spoken to Camille since that night, and honestly he didn't know what to expect when it came to her reaction. Yes, he'd only done as she'd asked, but he was still her uncle's killer, the man who had been her only family here, one of the only humans she could talk to about the burdens of living in New Orleans, a support system that his time in Mystic Falls had taught him was important, necessary, vital to getting through the dark days such a massive supernatural presence usually brought with it.

Especially when you tossed in Original Vampires into the mix. 1919 was proof of that. He never wanted anything like that to happen again, it was why he'd been so adamant about completing the Harvest, despite the threat it posed to Davina. Ten years ago -hell, even a year ago- Klaus wouldn't have been particularly bothered about a child paying such a price. Now, as he thought about his own daughter, it weighed on him more heavily than one might expect. He was not his father. No matter what, no matter the enemy he faced, no matter what it cost him, he would never hurt his little girl. Never. And not just because he didn't want to be anything like the tyrannus brute who raised him, but because...the minute he heard her heart beating, his whole life had seemed to finally make sense. He'd denied it, of course, had fought tooth and nail against it...but no more.

Today, he'd pay respects to his parted ally, and for ever day after, Klaus would just try and be worthy of his daughter.

"Is that the doppelgänger?"

"Yeah."

"Thought she'd be prettier, since all these Silas look-alikes are meant to fall in love with her all through time and stuff."

An eye roll. "Like her face matters; it's her blood we care about. Come on, let's get going. Markos is gonna be so pleased when he finds out he's got the complete set. Then we can finally be free."

The day, as usual, went to hell in a hand basket within about two hours. The wake had started off fine -minus listening to Marcel's speech, since even just hearing his former friend's voice was enough to make Klaus see red- only for he and Elijah to come to the conclusion that they were both having visceral, gut-churning nightmares of their father, his brother confiding in him that in his dreams, Mikael killed Elena over and over, and made him watch. It was only natural to assume that the witches were behind it, yet after interrogating Genevieve the pair realized that was not the case, which only left one option: Mikael was trying to come back. It made sense, what with the collapse of the Other Side and supernatural entities being pulled into oblivion. The Original Hunter obviously wasn't too sold in the idea, and wanted to get in his money's worth of mental torture before he was sucked off into nothingness. Like the past thousand years hadn't been bad enough.

Then there was Hayley and her stubborn insistence about these moonlight rings. Couldn't she see he had enough to deal with? The fact that Cami was able to make eye contact with him and was just as snarky as usual was a small consolation, but one nonetheless.

Thankfully, the day was almost over -it was five to midnight- and Elijah had just finished up another tense meeting with Klaus' least favourite red-headed witch. Not that he exactly had a favourite, he mused as he poured himself a glass of bourbon, choosing to focus on the way the light refracted off the crystal cut-glass decanter rather than the notion that as soon as he closed his eyes, he'd see his father. Besides, he was the Original Hybrid; who needed sleep when you were an indestructible, immortal being.?

Well, not entirely indestructible. There was still the White Oak stake, that would do the job just fine.

Klaus took a generous swallow, savouring the sweet burn of the alcohol as it coursed down his throat. Better. He hated being so tense, so on edge. He was Klaus Mikaelson, he wasn't afraid of some pathetic ghost that couldn't even lift a paper clip or a Coke can. He was being ridiculous. Elijah's worst-case-scenario mind was getting to him. Draining the last of his glass, the blond was startled from his ruminations by the ringing of his phone. Frowning at the unknown number, Klaus answered tiredly, "Listen, if you're trying to sell me something, I may have more money than God, but I'm really not interested..."

"Hello to you, too Nik," his sister replied, voice tight as a bowstring despite his humourous remark.

He was instantly alert, glass forgotten on the sideboard. "What's wrong?"

"Listen, I need you to stay calm, alright? I can't have you going off on one after I tell you what's happened, okay? And, under no circumstances, are you to tell Elijah what you're doing or where you're going."

"Alright, I promise," Klaus agreed flippantly, desiring to get to whatever was wrong and fix it as fast as inhumanly possible. "What mess have you gotten yourself into?"

He could almost see his sister shaking her head as she retorted shakily, "It's not me, Nik. It's Elena."

A ragged pause, then, "Tell me where you are."

Standing on a deserted road off the highway, Klaus took in the scene before him. Gnarled trees that had regained their spring colours in full now, a spotless pre-dawn sky that promised sunshine and little cloud, and the decimated wreck of Rebekah's car, a trail of blood leaking off into the woods like the lump of metal had had an artery slashed. He knew that scent anywhere: doppelgänger blood.

"The local police called me about an hour ago," Rebekah explained, eyes far off and distance as she tucked her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket, lost and uncertain, two things he never associated with his brave, beloved sister. "The car was registered in my name, a fake one, but they still had my details for insurance purposes. I was barely out of the state myself - I found myself with a sudden need for a new back-up car- so I simply vamp-sped here and I found...this. I tried to pick up some kind of a trail, anything that might give us a head start, but I suspect they've hidden their tracks with magic, and I'd guess by how dry the blood is that it's been here for nearly a day. They even went so far as to take her suitcases with them, so that we couldn't use anything of hers to do a tracking spell. They knew we'd come for her."

He couldn't think of anything to say to that, so Klaus merely nodded, toeing at what looked like part of a back wheel with his boot.

"What should we do? Maybe if we contacted her brother, used his blood to do a tracking spell-"

"There isn't time," he snapped, running a hand impatiently through his hair, tugging at the strands, desperate to shift and rip his claws into something. The universe really didn't want Elijah to be happy, did it? And Elena, too. Defeated, Klaus slid down the wreckage, legs splayed in front of him. "Christ, Bekah, I have no idea to handle this. No idea. When Elijah finds out, it'll be hell on earth. If she's dead, New Orleans won't survive his wrath. Our home is already so broken as it is; today is Father Kieran's funeral, and I wanted to make it as peaceful as I could, for Camille...I promised I'd be there for her. Elena made me promise as well. We need a plan, Rebekah, otherwise our world is about to implode..." Klaus trailed off, eyes alighting on something that may just help them out of this predicament.

Scrambling across the rubble, he reached his hand in between the seats, oblivious to the broken glass that scraped at the back of his hands like a million invisible thorns. Grinning, he retracted his arm and tossed Rebekah what could only be Elena's phone, which had been wedged all the way back in between the seats, screen a little chipped but mostly intact. Heading for his own car, he called over his shoulder, "Get that to a witch you trust and give me the location when they're done."

"Of course," Rebekah replied, pocketing the phone, some of the colour coming back into her face, "but Nik, where are you going?"

"To tell Elijah that his girlfriend's been kidnapped."

His sister's pitying look in the rearview mirror followed him all the way back to New Orleans.

Cami used to like going to church, had always appreciated the quiet, the serenity, the idea of connecting and being comforted by something bigger than yourself. Although the past few months, with everything that had happened, from the death of her brother to the realization that vampires didn't exist just in the realms of young adult fiction, had made her question if there really was a God...but today wasn't about what she believed. Today was about what she knew, and the new reality she'd have to face. The reality that she was now, completely and utterly, alone. All her family were back in Ireland: it was just her. There hadn't been time to contact them all, she was halfway through the list, and while they'd all been sad to hear of her uncle's passing, none had offered to get on a flight to be with her today. Declan had said he could maybe visit her next month, if she wanted, and while the thought was appealing...it was best not to have him here. Better he stay at culinary school, were the sharpest thing was a sushi knife and not a pair of vampire fangs or werewolf claws. Did werewolves even have claws? She'd never seen one, so she wasn't sure. She'd have to ask Klaus, at some point.

Cami was glad he was here. Their eyes had met briefly, his full of sympathy, hers no doubt full of grief and sorrow and the faintest edge of anger. She was angry. Angry at this stupid, crazy city for taking her uncle away from her, for taking Sean. For making her, despite her losses, want to stay. Her uncle had known what he was doing, he knew the risks, but he'd chosen to fight, to protect those who needed it, to stand up for the ordinary people in front of monsters that could have killed him if they so chose. But they hadn't; they'd respected him, liked him, valued his input and opinion. He'd built something here, and she didn't intend for it to fall into ruins. All of this...it was her job now. She couldn't go back to her apartment and crawl under the covers and pretend it wasn't there, that it didn't exist. She'd said she'd wanted to do as much to Marcel at the wake yesterday, when he'd asked her about that key, the same one Francesca had come sniffing around for, but she knew in the long run that she wouldn't be able to stay out of it, even if she tried; something -or someone- would always pull her back in. She knew what the witches and the vampires were capable of, the good and the bad, and that was knowledge that shouldn't go to waste.

Listening to the service, Cami took a breath, feeling a little better now that she'd finally decided on doing something. She had a plan, and plans were good, offered stability abd structure, two things she sorely needed right now. That, and a stuff drink, but that could wait until she got to Rousseau's.

She almost didn't notice it, the sudden, subtle shift of energy in the room. If she didn't know Klaus so well, it would be impossible to tell. But she did. She saw him look at his phone, then rise fluidly from his seat, somehow not even making a fuss despite the fact he was in the middle of the pew. Marcel shot him a questioning look, but he ignored it, walking purposefully towards his older brother, placing a hand on his shoulder and leading him out of the church. It wasn't right, it would look bad, it was her uncle's funeral, for God's sake...Cami didn't care. She was sick of being kept in the dark.

Shuffling from her seat, Cami exited the church, each click of her heels seeming to be a rebuke from up high. If that was a case, the Almighty would just have to wait to lecture her. The sunlight was blinding after the darkened interior of the church, the heat hitting her in a wave. Hand tilted to shield her eyes, Cami surveyed the two brothers and their heated conversation before interrupting, "What's going on?"

The vampires turned to her simultaneously, obviously so consumed by whatever they were talking about that even their supernatural hearing hadn't picked up her approach. Elijah looked...destroyed was the only word that could come close to the expression on his face. Klaus looked like he was trying to keep everything together, to stay calm, but it was a suit she knew wouldn't sit quite right on him, or for him. This must be bad, then. Very, very bad.

"Camille, go inside. This isn't something you should worry yourself over," Klaus tried to placate her, blue eyes soft and pleading. She simply crossed her arms over her chest and pierced him with a sharp stare. "No. You don't get to decided what is or isn't my problem, what I should worry about! Your brother looks like he's about to fall apart, and to be honest you don't look much better. I'm burying my uncle today, so you can, at the very least, show me some respect and tell me what's happening, since I think I've more than proved myself capable when it comes to you and your supernatural drama."

Slinking away from his brother, Klaus tipped up her chin, a half smirk dancing across his lips. "I suppose you're right, Camille. But don't blame me if after, you wished you didn't know."

"I can handle it."

He nodded, stepping away, eyes clouding over with a remote detachedness that didn't sit well with her. "Very well, then. Elena's been kidnapped by the Travelers and his being drained of her blood as we speak. We were able to find her phone at the sight of her abduction, used it to do a tracking spell, and we know where she is. It's in the middle of nowhere, and at present, I'm trying to persuade my brother into not doing anything stupid like going off without a plan."

"Rebekah's witch was hardly able to complete her spell, Niklaus," Elijah instantly rebuffed him, pacing frenetically, the sunshine glinting off his hair only adding to the fire that seemed to be radiating off of him. "She had to use Rebekah as a conduit to break through their cloaking spell, and then when she did, she could barely find Elena. The kind of blood loss she must have suffered to cause that, for her to have such difficulty making a connection, despite her being a vampire...we need to go. I need to go. Now."

Cami shook her head, perching on the bottom of the church steps as she looked up at them both -these heels were murder on her feet, and then, of course, she instantly regretted her mind's choice of pun. "Klaus is right, Elijah. You shouldn't go in unprepared. You can't underestimate people like that." Look what happens when you do.

As if sensing her thoughts, Klaus sat beside her, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders. Guiltily, she leaned into his touch, embracing the small sense of normalcy it brought her.

"I know this is hard, brother, but I don't think you should go. If Elena has been taken, then Stefan has as well. We're not the only ones concerned; I'm sure the entirety of the Mystic Falls Vampire Club is already coming up with a solution as we speak."

"No, they're not."

Klaus huffed petulantly, "How can you be sure?"

"Because, if the latest text message you received from Miss Forbes is anything to go by, then they are not having any more luck with the situation than we are."

The hybrid shot to his feet, indignation rippling off of him. "You stole my phone?"

"*Borrowed your phone would be more accurate, Niklaus. And only temporarily. I just wanted to be the first one to know of any developments." With a flourish, Elijah removed it from his coat and handed it back to his brother, who shoved it away with a grumbled, "You better have not changed my password to some obscure Aristotle quote or something equally tedious."

Nice to know that Klaus could still act like a five year old.

Squinting up at the unblemished sky, he asked Elijah -somewhat pointlessly, Cami thought, yet didn't say so- "You're really going to do this, aren't you? You're going to walk into a trap, completely unprepared for what you may face."

"What can I say?" Elijah smirked roguishly. "It's my turn to be impulsive; you can have the next one. In our lives, such opportunities do not take long to present themselves." The Original turned his attention to her, offering sincerely, "I am sorry, Camille, about your uncle. You have my deepest condolences, and I apologize about the trouble this has caused you. Your uncle was a great man, and he will be sorely missed."

Cami smiled tensely. She didn't think she'd get used to hearing of Kieran in the past tense, not for a while, if ever. "Thank you, Elijah. I know he thought highly of you as well, and Elena. Please, just bring her back in one piece. And you, too. You guys are like my best customers, and I'd hate to see all that bourbon go to waste," she joked, if only for appearances, knowing it wouldn't really lighten the mood yet desperate to try and find familiar terrain again, since it felt like the world was always shifting under her feet, the rug being pulled out from under her making her metaphorically topple forwards onto her face.

"You have my word," Elijah vowed, conviction of the desperately in love gleaming in his eyes as he gave his brother a nod before vanishing out of sight. Still seated beside her as he was, Cami felt the tension invade Klaus' lithe frame, the heaviness that seemed to settle on him, a palpable miasma of worry and concern. Reaching out, she gripped his hand in hers, pulling them both to their feet.

"They'll be fine," she soothed him, giving his fingers a reassuring squeeze. "Everything's gonna be okay."

Blue eyes met green, hope met certainty, and made a believer out of them both.

Her whole body hurt. Elena was no stranger to pain, having been bitten by vampires more times than she could count, being in two car accidents on the same bridge, being tortured by Hunters and Stefan and Damon when they were trying to get her to turn her humanity back on, but this was a definite contender for taking home the championship title. Usually, the smell of blood didn't turn her stomach, certainly not as a vampire or as the daughter of a doctor, yet the smell of her own now was enough to make her queasy. Or maybe that was whatever magic those Travelers had used to incapacitate her.

She hoped Elijah stayed away. While it was safe to assume that someone had found Rebekah's mangled car, that didn't mean the Mikaelsons knew where she was for sure. They'd have this place cloaked up to the max, and she doubted even Davina could break through wards such as theirs, no doubt reinforced with her doppelgänger blood. Hers, or Stefan's, since if she was here, it stood to reason that he was, too.

Groaning softly, she tried to get a look at her watch through her chains, calculate how long she'd been here. If this was a normal day, she'd be able to tell by how hungry she was, but her injuries kinda threw that plan out the window. As luck would have it, the face was cracked, making it resemble a waxing moon more than an accurate time-telling device. But it didn't matter if she'd been here for two days or two years, she had to come up with a plan to get herself out of here. And Stefan. He'd likely been in worse shape than she was, what with his bunny diet and all, so it would have to be up to her to sort this out.

Opening her eyes wider, Elena tried to take in more of her surroundings, find anything that might be of use. Pipes, lots of pipes. If she could pry one of them loose...

Who was she kidding? Right now, she couldn't even pick the wings off of a fairy cake, let alone swing some metal piping at someone's head.

The door opened, letting in a swath of light that stung her eyes for a blink, and then she felt the sharp stab of a knife, cutting her, cutting her everywhere...

She wanted to be brave, wanted to be strong, wanted to not give in, but the pain was just too much.

Elena screamed. And kept screaming.

People really must think she was stupid. Sitting in the church, her attention only half on the priest in front of her, Hayley listened to the conversation going on outside with mounting worry. And anger. Oh, yeah, there was lots of that. Hello, werewolf! She could hear Klaus and Elijah just find. Apparently, she wasn't the only one, if Marcel's expression was anything to go by. For a dude that was two hundred and fifty years old or whatever, he had a sucky poker face.

Slowly, she met his gaze, tipping her head in the direction of the doors and raising her brows. Marcel offered her a shrug, then tapped at his wrist where a watch would sit, if he was wearing one. Hayley got him loud and clear: it was time for an interrogation. As soon as the service finished, Hayley pulled Klaus up against the wall, leaning her forearm heavily against his throat. Not to hurt him, just to keep him in place, stop him from speeding off and avoiding her. She felt Marcel's presence at her back as she snarled, "You got one minute to explain what's going on to me before I get nasty. Go."

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" Klaus smirked, stepping out of her hold easily and smoothing out his rumpled jacket with a casual flick. "And working with Marcellus, which I find odd, given all he did to your family, your people."

"The wolves aren't what I'm concerned about right now, Klaus. What concerns me is whatever's going on with you and Elijah. Something's up and I need to know what it is."

"Yes, it seems to be a trend today. Very well, follow me. You, too, Marcel: I only want to say this once."

Linking his arm with hers, they join the procession that had begun to form, feeling hot and bothered and royally pissed at basically everyone. She knew that Francesca was behind those bombings at the Bayou, Klaus was up to his usual tricks and likely trying to get Genevieve to make him those daylight rings he'd promised Jackson...and where the hell was Elijah? The trumpets blared on, loud in her ears as she tried to keep her attention on the flow of words coming out of Klaus' mouth, only catching the odd one. Travelers. Elena. Kidnapped. Rescue. A burning started to scotch it's way up her throat, and Hayley coughed to try and clear it, which only seemed to make it worse. The next thing she knew, she was bent over, coughing up blood against a street lamp.

"Hayley! Hayley! Oh, bloody hell, Hayley! Stay with me, love!"

She tried to keep her eyes open, tried to stay awake, mind instantly thinking of her baby, but it was just too much, and darkness began to crowd in around her and she couldn't hold on any more.

Klaus had been the first one of the Mikaelsons to learn how to drive. At the time of their conception, he'd been utterly fascinated by society's latest invention, buying multiple and then proceeding to crash each and every one within a scarce matter of days. He'd been the one to teach Elijah to drive, and that was evident now as the Original sped down the highway, going far past the appropriate speeds. The Travelers would expect him to use his vampire speed, but while that option was faster, it would drain him more quickly, and he needed to be at his utmost best for Elena. And Stefan...but mostly Elena.

She was all he could think about as his tires ate up the road and the trees flashed by in a dizzying blur of spring evergreen. He should have known. He should have known that something was wrong. To hell with that, he shouldn't have ever let her go in the first place.

No.

Shaking his head, Elijah gripped the wheel tighter, leather straining under his grip.

He wasn't Damon Salvatore, or Stefan for that matter: he would never tell her what she could or couldn't do; he'd seen what the sire bond had done to her, the choice it had forced her to make. Each and every Mikaelson was acutely aware of what it was like to live without choices, for someone to try and protect you out of love, only for that love to sour, turn into something foul and poisonous, rotting away at every scrap of goodness. So no, he couldn't have stopped her...he was simply angry, and scared, and it was easier to blame himself first for anything that went wrong in his life -he certainly couldn't blame his brother for it, could he, who seemed to have developed a sudden sense of unique heroism, taking the lead in a way that Elijah simultaneously marvelled at and appreciated. For so long, it had been he who had stressed to Niklaus the importance of family, of love; it felt comforting to know that what he'd said had resonated, enough so that he could say it to Elijah in his time of need.

With a swipe of his fingers, he brought up Elena's location on the car's GPS, working out how long he still had left to go. Two hours. He could do that. Probably. Flooring the gas pedal, Elijah sent up a silent prayer to the heavens that she'd still be alive when he got there.

Nothing was working. He'd tried feeding Hayley his blood, but it had had no effect on her. Marcel had instantly sped off to get Davina, the pair arriving within moments at the compound -the girl had cuts on her arms and glass in her hair, but Klaus was too preoccupied to notice- but she quickly masked her panic at the werewolf's condition and setting to work with healing charms, but to no avail. Klaus was utterly helpless, and in that moment, he'd never wanted his older brother by his side more. The baby still had a heartbeat, thank the gods, but for just how long she could survive with her mother in such a condition...he didn't know. If it came down between her and the baby, Klaus knew the choice she would want him to make, but he didn't know if he had the strength for it. He'd been doubtful of his parental capabilities since the very beginning, and to imagine trying to raise their little girl without her by his side...it was unthinkable. Hayley was family, just like Elena was, and they never gave up on family.

Boots braced on the stone floor, Klaus looked up at Davina, hovering nervously by the table he'd placed Hayley on. "Keep trying."

"Klaus," Marcel immediate reprimanded him, placing a comforting hand on the teenager's shoulder, "she's used up a lot of magic already. What you're asking of her..."

"It's okay, Marcel, I can do this," the witch promised, shaking off her guardian's touch and locking eyes with Klaus resolutely. "I'm not going to let anything happen to her. To either of them. I just need some time, and maybe some of your blood."

"Whatever you need, Davina," the hybrid vowed solemnly. "Whatever it takes."

"What about me?"

Spinning around, Klaus let out an enraged snarl at Genevieve's presence, letting the gold in his eyes shine. "Get the hell out of my home."

"Funny, that's not what you were saying last week." Perhaps realizing that Klaus wasn't in the mood for her paltry attempts at humour, she tried to explain, "I think I might be able to help, Klaus. I did used to be a nurse, remember? And did I not just hear you say you were willing to do whatever it takes? Let me help. Free of charge."

"Fine." Like he had much choice.

Nodding, the redhead rolled up her sleeves. "Davina, get me some chamomile from the pantry. Klaus, why don't you take off your jacket, she's-"

"I can bloody we'll see that, Genevieve," the hybrid growled as he took off his jacket and tucked it around Hayley's shaking form. "I don't need to be told to look after the mother of my child."

The witch rolled her eyes. "I see this is going to be a fun day."

At first glance, the warehouse looked deserted. Pulling up in front of the building with a spray of pebbles, Elijah was out of the car and buttoning up his suit jacket before the engine had fully turned off. Rebekah had called and asked if she was needed, but he'd declined the offer: he didn't want her here to witness what he was going to do to the Travelers that had taken Elena. It would set a bad precedent and make him look like a hypocrite the next time she did something unsavoury and he berated her for it.

The first person who got in his way lost their head, the second lost their heart. He'd been hoping to remain inconspicuous, banking on the element of surprise and superior brute force...but why bother? There should have been no doubt in their minds that he'd come for her, so why not put on a show while he was at it?

Another came up behind him, chanting something in Latin he couldn't be bothered to translate

"My quarrel is not with you, Original. Leave now, and you shall be spared. For the time being."

"I'm sorry, were you meant to be saying something of interest? I'm taking her. Now. The both of them. And there's not a single thing you can do to stop me. I don't care how old you are, what power you wield, I will cut you down like so much grass, because I have one thing that you do not."

"Oh, and what's that?"

"Love. And a seven thousand dollar suit I'm not afraid to get coated in blood," Elijah smirked, swinging his fist so hard in the man's face that he dropped like a stone. Flashing past vacant corridors, Elijah waited until he picked up the familiar rhythm of her heartbeat, now painfully slow, and wrenched the door off hard enough that it cracked into the nearby wall.

Oh, what they'd done to his lovely Elena. The number of cuts on her alone, the nearly full buckets of blood, her blood...she must be in so much pain. His Elena, his beautiful, smart, compassionate, fierce, protective, incalculably brave girlfriend, and they'd chained her up like an animal about to be sacrificed to slaughter. The Original didn't even flinch at the vervain-coated chains, breaking them with a snap, strong arm going around her waist as she tumbled into his arms, unable to support her own weight.

"Elena. Elena, it's me," he said, sweeping the hair out of her face so he could better asses her. "I'm here, Elskede. I've got you."

Elena stirred slightly in his arms, eyelids fluttering open shyly, as if afraid of what awaited her. "Elijah?" she murmured, squinting up at him softly. "D-did you come here...to rescue me?"

He let himself smile. "I did."

She shuddered, wheezing in a rattling breath as she raped, "That...was dumb. You could have gotten hurt."

"That wasn't high up on my list of priorities," he murmured, pressing a swift yet heartfelt kiss to her forehead.

"S' number one on mine..." Elena trailed off, head lolling against his arm, consciousness slipping away far too soon.

Frantically, he bit into his wrist, copper filling his mouth as he tried to get it into hers. Elena's eyes flew open, wider this time, and yet despite the dangerous situation, despite being on the brink of dessication, she hesitated.

And he knew why.

"Elena, Elskede, we can talk about the implications and nuances of blood sharing between vampires later; my only concern right now is getting you better. So, for the love of all that is holy, please don't turn this into argument and just drink my damn blood, please."

And she did.

He was instantly reminded of the last time they'd done this, that night at her family's lake house when she'd stabbed herself in an attempt to get him to agree to a new deal after the Salvatore's had unsurprisingly botched their previous one. It wasn't something Elijah had ever really done, certainly never with other vampires outside of his family, and while then there had been a cloud of unease and betrayal between them, it felt just as right now to have her in his arms, to hear her heartbeat strengthen and see the colour return to her cheeks. It was a dance, with them: one saved one, then the other returned the favour. And if he had to keep saving her for the rest of eternity...it would be an eternity well spent, perfectly spent.

Eventually, Elena let go, her own arms coming to wrap around his waist as she pressed her forehead into his chest and let out a long breath.

"Hi."

Elijah smiled. "Hello."

"I'm sorry," Elena apologized, brown eyes contrite and earnest.

"You have no reason to be," he assured her, taking her hand and escorting her through the labyrinth of hallways until they came to a stop at the only other occupied room.

"Do you want to go save the world with me?" she asked over her shoulder, palm flat on the door, other hand still tucked into his, and he knew he'd follow her anywhere she ever asked him to, that no matter what, they could have anything, so long as they were together.

Elijah shrugged affably. "I've got time."

When Stefan heard the door open, he thought it was time for another round of 'Stick the knife in the doppelgänger like a schish-kebab.' The last thing he expected to see was Elijah, followed by a rapidly-healing Elena, the pair making quick work of his restraints as the Original hoisted him from the table. The world span in a dizzying kaleidoscope of colours, fracturing and reforming, and he was vaguely aware of his arms being draped around two sets of shoulders and being vamp-sped from the building.

He felt a little better now that he was outside, but the sunlight was like needles in his eyes, and all Stefan wanted to do was lay down and sleep, but a firm hand gripped his jaw, a familiar daylight ring gleaming softly, an even softer voice saying, "Hey, stay with me, Stefan. We'll be out of here in a minute, I promise."

Elena never promised something she couldn't give, so he believed her. But how was she okay? It didn't make any sense; he'd heard her screaming from his own room/cell, but she appeared to be relatively unharmed. "How are you not totally dying over here?" the vampire watched, curiosity mounting when she glanced over her shoulder.

"Original blood is quite the cure-all," she replied vaguely, which wasn't like her. Everything felt heavy, and sluggish, but he still caught on to her meaning: she'd drunk Elijah's blood. Blood sharing between vampires...and with an Original...

"Wait!" A voice called out, running down the path towards them, arms held out like she could stop them if she waved them about enough.

Elijah arched a curious brow. "Someone you know?"

"I don't think so, although I'm kinda behind on the times at the minute; I've had more important things occupying me," she smirked, tugging on his tie playfully.

Elijah returned the look with one of his own, smouldering with enough passion and desire it made Stefan look away, feeling like he was intruding on something he shouldn't see. "That you have."

"I'm on your side, okay?" the woman said as she came closer, panting slightly from the exertion. "I just want my husband back, I won't turn you over to Markos, I swear."

It was Elena's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Husband?"

"She must be Maria, Tyler's wife," Stefan supplied, watching in watered-down amusement as Elena whipped her head towards him, so fast Elijah almost got a mouthful of her hair in his face.

"Since when is Tyler married?"

"He's not, just the Passenger currently inside him, Julian. Last I heard, Damon was keeping him under wraps at the boarding house, bargaining chip with insider information and all that."

"He's right; I just want Julian. If Markos and the rest of the Travelers succeed with their spell, magic will be stripped away from your town layer by layer, which means the body he's in will die. Permanently. I can't let that happen."

"So...I'm guessing you want to hitch a ride with us?"

Maria nodded.

"Fortunately for you, my boyfriend likes expensive cars with plenty of space. But I call shotgun!"

Rolling his eyes, Stefan could do nothing but follow, the four of them cramming into the SUV, Elena indeed taking the passenger seat as Elijah slid in behind the wheel. Stefan was just grateful that he wasn't upright anymore and didn't have to worry about faceplanting into the dirt. The smell of blood, human blood, was immediately apparent, and it took every ounce of his self control to not go jumping into the cooler like an Olympic diver seeking out a gold medal win. He could hold on until they got back to Mystic Falls. He could. He'd be fine. He could do this...

Bizarrely, Elijah, not Elena, was the first to notice his turmoil, offering him, "Take whatever you need," with a non-threatening smile.

Yes, it was tempting, but the fact still remained, "I'm not really much of a human person these days."

"I know you're not, Stefan," Elena replied, brown eyes brimming with compassion and understanding, "but desperate times call for equally desperate measures. Hey, on the bright side, if we both die horribly, you won't even get the chance to go full-blown Ripper."

Stefan winced at her pessimistic tone, as well as the blunt reminder of his past atrocities. "That's not comforting."

"It's the best I got."

As the Salvatore finally caved and opened the cooler sat beside him, he couldn't help but find his attention diverted to the couple up front rather than the bag of blood in his hand, despite his weakened state. While this wasn't the first time he'd ever seen the two in the same space together...it was the first time he'd seen them as a couple. There was something just so...easy about them -the way she had her head resting against his shoulder as she fiddled with the radio, how he'd catch Elijah glancing at her like he had to keep convincing himself that she was beside him, and okay, or as okay as a doppelgänger marked for death could be. It made his heart ache, just a little bit, for what he and Elena had had in the years past, that feeling of rightness, of being whole.

While it was true he'd never been a great supporter of her relationship with Damon, particularly after the revelation of the sire bond, at least he could draw comfort from the fact that his brother was finally happy, after so long. That if Stefan had to let her go, at least he could trust that Damon would love her and always put her first, as he always had done -sometimes with disastrous results. But Elijah...he'd never really liked the guy, had considered him the lesser of the Mikaelson evils; not exactly a thrilling endorsement for his ex-girlfriend's and still one of his closest friend's new boyfriend.

Stefan, though, had to give credit where credit was due: the Original had changed. It was like a layer had been stripped away, some of that cold, calculating aloofness melting under Elena's sunny warmth, perhaps bringing out some of that humanity no one besides his siblings had ever seen. No one in modern Mystic Falls had ever seen it, that was for sure. It was why everyone had been so surprised to find out Elijah had showed up when Elena called, and even more so when she went running off to him, when she hadn't even gone after him when he spent that summer with Klaus.

She'd run off like she couldn't live without him. And maybe, as Stefan saw him reach across and kiss the back of her hand, entwining it with his against the console, Elijah couldn't live without her, either.

Almost like she could read his thoughts, Maria glanced at him curiously, "Aren't you doppelgängers like soulmates or whatever? Fated by the universe?"

Mindful of the two vampires in front, Stefan responded diplomatically, "Elena's always followed her own path, she's never let anyone tell her what to do, or who to love."

"Huh. Must be nice."

Up at the front, Elena was doing her best to stay awake, but after the adrenaline rush of fear and anxiety she'd been subsisting on since her kidnapping was beginning to wane, and being surrended by Elijah's warmth, the scent of spice and parchment and pine, it was a tough battle to keep her eyes open.

Not even taking his eyes off of the road ahead, Elijah urged her gently, "Go to sleep, sweetheart. Mystic Falls is still several hours away."

"I'm not tired," she insisted, feeling like she was nine again and asking her parents to let her stay up to watch a movie, despite the fact that she'd usually be yawning and squinting tiredly at the TV screen.

Elijah smirked, clearly not believing her.

"I can't sleep, not while this is going on. I never could," she admitted, adverting her gaze to the dashboard, not wanting to see whatever amalgamation of guilt and regret lay in his eyes. "It's how I kept up with my schoolwork. Vampire mother back in town? Algebra homework. Your doppelgänger who dated your boyfriend and his brother makes your aunt stab herself? History report. About to be used in a magic sacrifice to the brother of some handsome thousand-year-old guy who is shockingly noble, gorgeous, and when you finally get him to smile, it feels like you've won something important? English essay," Elena finished, somewhat breathlessly, a blush rising to her cheeks at the way Elijah was looking at her. Amazement. Amusement. Sympathy. Passion. And like he really wanted to stop the car and kiss her until the end of time...which might be tomorrow, of Markos had his way.

The thought alone was enough to halt all of...that, and instead ask her boyfriend, "Do you happen to have your phone on you?"

He handed it over, no questions ask.

Before she could type in the number she'd probably never forget, Elena met Stefan's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Should you tell Damon we're alive, or should I?"

"Are you really up to talking to him right now?" Stefan queried gently, ever sensitive and courteous to her emotional state.

"Not really, but I don't want to avoid him forever. Besides, this is purely business."

Stefan arched a brow. "We're in the business of getting kidnapped and being drained of nearly all our blood?"

Elena shrugged. "It happens so often, we might as well be."

"I'll talk to him. He's probably still in a mood, especially if Enzo's ghost has been bugging him all day and night."

Unable to contest his logic, Elena handed over the phone.

After a few seconds, the vampire cleared his throat and inquired, haltingly, "Um, Elijah, what's your password?"

"Nine, four, twelve," the Original said without pause, and after roling the numbers around in her mind, Elena barked out an amused laugh. "Your password is the date we got together?"

"It's a date I won't ever forget," he told her, the calmness of his words outdone by the blush staining his cheeks. He could be such a romantic sometimes.

As soon as the call connected and he heard his brother's voice, Damon fired away with a bunch of questions, each one more frantic than the last. Once he'd assured him that he was okay for the time being, Stefan explained how she herself had been kidnapped on the way out of New Orleans."

"Elena was coming here?" Damon replied with an air of disbelief that deeply stung, as did his snide remark of, "Why? Did she run out of hearts to break in the Big Easy?"

Like hell would she let that slide.

Turning in her seat, Elena stuck her hand out angrily. "Stefan, give me the phone."

Stefan gulped audibly. "Elena, do you really think that's the best-"

"Stefan Antonio Salvatore if you don't give me that phone right now I swear to every God, Demi-God and fricking universal tree sprite that I will take it from you, and it won't be pleasant."

"Fine," the vampire huffed at the same time Elijah chuckled, "Tree sprite?"

Elena tossed her hair over her shoulder with an imperious flick. "It sounded better in my head." She put the phone to her ear, knowing that everyone would be able to hear this anyway -even Maria with her non-supernatural hearing (they'd likely be able to hear Damon shouting from space.)

"Listen, you asshat, I was in my way to help you and everyone we've ever met and care about, okay? I didn't have to, let me remind you. I could have said, 'No, not this time, I'm out of this, I'm gonna stay home with my boyfriend and eat beignets and look at UNO college courses and help decorate my niece's nursery. But no. I said goodbye to my family and got kidnapped and tortured for my troubles. Sure, Markos and the Travelers would have come for me regardless, but I still chose to gave up that chance of normalcy, of peace, even if it was only a day or two more."

Damon scoffed theatrically with enough venom to give her pause. "Oh, poor Elena, having to say bye bye to her ancient boy toy, the hybrid who killer her and the werewolf he knocked up. Life's just so unfair to you, isn't it?"

"No, what's unfair is the fact that you're mad at me, and making this personal. This is bigger than us, Damon. The whole supernatural world is at stake."

"Bonnie and Liv have a plan. I have a plan. We've all got plans."

"Mind clueing me in on those plans?"

"I don't know... you're not exactly on my team anymore, are you? Maybe I'll just leave you out of this one; it's not like Mystic Falls is your home anymore -you just made that abundantly clear."

Elena was going to punch something. "And you just reminded me why I hated you when we first met: you won't get your head out of your own ass, be a grown-up and not make everything all about you."

"God, being around Elijah has done nothing for your personality."

"Don't make me ask again," she warned, hitting Elijah in the arm when she caught him smirking at her.

"Fine. I've been rounding up all the lovely townspeople of Mystic Falls who are extras in our current Tales of the Body Snatcher fiasco...and Markos is sure to come a knocking.'"

Of course. "Do you still have Tyler with you?"

"In the basement. He's been under guard by our resident barkeep and junior Sarah Michelle Gellar."

It took a moment, then..."Jeremy? You're using my brother to help you round up infected townspeople?"

"He's really applied himself," Damon mused with palpable relish. "I may make a pro of him yet. Except when he and Matty blue broke one of our vases, but I guess these things have a learning curve. He's also part of my extensive Neighborhood Weirdo Watch team, reporting back to me on anything more unusual than usual."

"What the hell, Damon?" she shrieked, loud enough to make both vampires wince. "How could you? Seriously, have you lost it entirely?"

"What's the big whoop? You and I are no longer a...you and I, so I don't have to give a damn. The boy offered, Elena. Guess martyred stupidity runs in the family."

"If anything happens to him-"

"You'll do what?" Damon interrupted her snidely. "Break up with me? Been there, done that, wrote a country song. Didn't make it into the Top 10, but I was still quite proud."

"No, I'll kill you," Elena replied without blinking, and handed the phone back to Stefan.

The rest of the call was brief, Damon's snarky, "Yeah. I know.. Find Markos; kill Markos; save Mystic Falls from becoming traveler home. It's going to be a busy day for me, Stefan. Time to strap on the hero hair," the last thing she heard before tuning out of the conversation, burying her head so far into Elijah's chest she felt like she'd never come up for air again. Right now, that didn't sound like much of a bad thing.

She couldn't believe she'd hurt Damon that badly that he'd go to such lengths to get her baby brother involved in all this. But in a way...she sort of could. He'd killed Jeremy when she turned him down, snapped his neck right in front of her. This time, it could be someone else doing the killing, and he wouldn't even have any blood on his hands.

Maybe she shouldn't have left. Maybe if she'd stayed...

"Elena?"

"Hmmm?"

"You're thinking too hard, Elskede. About things that don't matter, nonetheless," he admonished her gently, eyes like a soft caress against her face.

"How do you know?" Elena couldn't help but mumble.

"Because anything Damon Salvatore says out of misplaced anger and deep-rooted hurt carries very little weight. You are allowed to have a life, Elena. You are allowed to be happy."

She hummed noncommittally, choosing instead to pick off the flakes of blood she'd gotten on the shoulder of his suit.

"You're gonna have to chuck this one when we get home," Elena said sadly, thinking of all the trouble she'd put him through, not just today but basically since they'd first crossed paths.

"Fabric is replaceable, Elena: you are not."

With that said, the doppelgänger finally allowed herself to close her eyes, pulled by the motion of the car and Elijah's heartbeat next to her. She was almost asleep when she heard her Original vampire confess, "I felt the same way about your smile, my love."

Elena fell asleep with one of those smiles on her face.

Hayley wasn't dead. She'd worked that out pretty quickly when Mikael started trying to kill her, which he guessed he could only do because of the Other Side going to hell or whatever. Stupid Mystic Falls crap ruining her life. Again. Honestly, it was a mystery to her why Elena had gone back to save it; Hayley wouldn't have bothered. She had no interest in playing hero, only in keeping her unborn daughter safe, throw in her whole pack being cursed thing if she wasn't knee-deep in the latest Mikaelson family drama...which she definitely was now.

Hayley had never given it much thought, really, what Klaus and Elijah and Rebekah's dad was like, what he even looked like. She'd heard Elijah's story, of course, when they first met out in the cemetery, had gleaned tidbits from conversations and general snooping, but as the vampire Hunter -the Mikaelsons, always with the capitals- loomed in front of her, she had to admit she'd thought he'd be...bigger. Scarier. But she supposed that looks could always be deceitful. Just because he wasn't twirling some theatrical villain mustache didn't mean he wasn't evil.

Original Dick, copyright by Hayley Marshall, the werewolf thought dryly as she kicked out at the banister, knocking one of the wooden supports loose and into her hand with a flick of her boot, a rudimentary stake so she could send this bastard packing and get back to the world of the living.

"I know they didn't exactly have Mommy and Me classes in Viking times or whatever, but it doesn't take the invention of the of the microwave or indoor plumbing to know that you don't hurt your kids. Ever. In any way, for any reason. And you certainly won't lay a hand on mine."

"Do you really think you can keep her? That any child of his will grow up into something you're proud to call yours?" Mikael taunted her, such anger and evil brewing in his eyes, far beyond any kind she'd ever seen in Klaus', even at his worst. "They will carry the blood of a monster in their veins, and they will never know peace. People will make sure of it."

"Then I'll stop them," she promised, never meaning anything more. "But you're talking like you're still a part of all of this: you're not. Klaus beat you. Your son beat you, and you can't stand it."

"He is no son of mine!" he boomed, anger as hot and explosive as a volcano, doing just as much damage -God, how had they survived it, all those years, how had none of the Mikaelsons killed this miserable bastard in his sleep? "From the moment I held him in my arms, I knew within my breast that that thing was no kin of mine. And I was right. He is a beast, a scourge upon this earth, an abomination-"

"Hey, mind if we skip the small talk and I go straight to killing your undead ass or whatever."

Mikael seemed to be of the same opinion. "Gladly."

Charging at her, the two collided on the second floor, the hunter trying to pin her to the ground as he kicked her impromptu stake out of her reach. Helplessly, Hayley watched it clatter to the floor below, wrestling to through an arm back and gain some leverage.

"Why are you fighting me! Can't you see that I'm right? Niklaus deserves this fate, he is a poison that must be eradicated. Every last trace of him must go, including that baby. Honestly, I'm doing you a favour, Miss Marshall. He'd destroy it, given the chance. It's what he does."

Hayley went still, cheek pressed against the cool metal of the railing. "Yeah? Wanna see what I can do?" she snarled, bucking her head back with a crunch, spinning out of Mikael's grip and vaulting over the banister to the floor below.

With a scream that was more animal than human, Mikael jumped down after her, but Hayley had the upper hand: she wanted her little girl to live more than he wanted to kill her. Without a flicker of hesitation, she grabbed the stake off the floor, plunging it into his chest from behind without mercy, unsettled when he didn't even make so much as a gasp. He really wasn't human.

"My daughter has an advantage Klaus never had," she told her baby's grandfather as she pulled the stake back out, "she will never, ever know you."

A heartbeat passed, she felt something tugging at her, a swirl of darkness then...

Hayley bolted upright, hand going to her chest as she greedily sucked in lungfuls of air, a jacket that smelled vaguely familiar falling into a puddle in her lap, mixing with the smell of herbs and salt -magic, maybe? It didn't matter. She was alive. She was okay. Oh, God, what about-

"It's okay, love, it's okay. You're both fine," came Klaus' voice, the hybrid himself right beside her, an arm wrapped around her shoulders as she shuddered. "Shh. Everything's alright, Hayley."

"No, it's not," she said with a shake of her head, pulling one of his hands between both of hers. "Klaus, I was in the Other Side, I think. I was there and your father was there. Mikael tried to kill me. He wanted to kill you, and me, and our little girl..."

The thought brought panicked tears to her eyes, and without Klaus' steady presence she felt like she'd break apart, right here in front of... Genevieve? What was that witch bitch doing here? And Marcel? With Davina? Ugh, her head hurt. "Look at me." When she couldn't meet his gaze, he said it again. "Little wolf, look at me."

She did.

"I would never, ever let that happen to you. Not today, or tomorrow, or a million days from now. He's gone, sweetheart. He's gone and he will never lay a hand on you or our daughter. I'd do whatever it took to keep you safe, both of you safe. Never again will there be a broken Mikaelson child. Our little one will know nothing but love, I swear it."

She believed him.

During her time out in the bayou, Hayley had missed a lot of things -having a great bakery right down the street, a never-ending flow of jazz and varied musical talent right outside her bedroom window, the safety of being in the compound and knowing that no one would or could get through the door without an Original knowing- but the thing she might have missed most was the showers. The water pressure was insanely good, and paired with some clean clothes she'd left behind before she moved out, Hayley felt like she'd never been dead at all. But she wouldn't forget the experience in a hurry, not by a long shot. She knew her baby girl wouldn't have an average, normal life, given her last name and all...but her own relative trying to kill her from the great beyond? It was all a little much.

If this experience had made one thing clear, however, it was the fact that she needed to be here. As much as she loved the bayou, loved being around Jack and the rest of her people...this was her home, the first she'd ever had, and it would be her little girl's, too.

Klaus was gonna be insufferable when she told him.

Like she'd summoned him with her thoughts alone, the big bad hybrid miraculously appeared in the doorway, knocking lightly even though she was well aware of his presence. She really must have scared him if he was acting so courteous.

"For what it's worth, I am truly sorry about what happened today, little wolf. I thought the bastard was gone for good and that the two of you would never have to cross paths."

Shrugging, she picked at a loose thread on the bedspread. "It's okay, Klaus. It's not like you could have predicted his ghost trying to kill me or anything."

"Nonetheless, it's a mistake I won't make again."

Looking up, Hayley met his eyes, wanting him to see she was serious when she said, "I've decided that I'm going to move back in. If the Other Side really is collapsing or whatever, there may be more people you've pissed off wanting to settle the score."

Klaus chuckled dryly, taking a seat on the chair by the window, the streetlights casting his face in moving shadows. "The list is admittedly rather long. And...I'm relieved to hear you say that, truth be told. With Elijah and Elena gone, this place is far too quiet."

Hayley felt a pang of sympathy for him at that, but that didn't stop her arguing, "But no mouth-breathing bodyguards, no telling me what to do."

"Like anything I said could ever sway you. All I want is to keep you safe."

"Really? Is it me you're worried about," Hayley couldn't help but press him, "or just her?"

Frowning, he murmured quietly in response, "It pains me that you have to ask that, but I guess I do deserve it." Rising from the chair, he held his hand out to her. "Come, little wolf, I think there's something you need to see."

Wordlessly, she took his hand and let him pull her to her feet and down the hall, situated right in-between her room and Klaus'. Gesturing her to go in, Hayley pushed open the pale wooden door, unsure of what she'd find.

It was a nursery. Painted in a soft yellowy cream colour, with a crib and a bookcase full of toys and baby books, a rocking chair sitting in the far corner by a window hung up with pink curtains with little teddy bears on, and a picture that was undoubtedly painted by him of New Orleans at night, complete with a big full moon, the amount of detail and time and care put into it palpable from where she stood.

As if he'd grown nervous from her silence, Klaus cleared his throat awkwardly. "I was totally out of my depth when I first started. The amount of screws and Allen keys -which even I didn't know where real things, and I've got about twenty different architecture degrees- that go into children's toys and furniture is beyond belief. Elena found me in here one night, trying to put the bassinet together. She most graciously didn't make fun of me, just say down and pulled over the instructions and asked for a screwdriver. She told me about what her room was like when she was little, about the toys she'd liked and her favourite books. I tracked some of them down; I thought Elena might like to read them to her. Do you...like it?"

"Like it?" Hayley parroted with wide eyes. "I love it. I can't believe you did all this. And that you kept it a secret."

Klaus smirked, but she coud see it was just a cover, a defense mechanism: what she had said had struck a chord. "What can I say? It would ruin my reputation as a psychotic, merciless tyrant if anyone saw me matching pastel paint samples with the cushions. I want you here, Hayley, with our daughter, who should be raised by her family, in her family home. She'll never live like we did. She will never not have a place where she belongs."

Wiping at her eyes, she reached out and put her arms around him. "Thank you."

He patted her on the back gently. "You're welcome, little wolf." Pulling away, he stepped farther into the room, eyeing it all with a look of pride. "Do you want me to show you around?"

She nodded, a soft smile gracing her face. "I'd like that. I'd like that very much."

Klaus began pointing things out, explaining who had made them and the various hoops he'd had to jump through to get some of the more custom-made pieces. He was just telling her about one of the figurines on the bookshelf of a little knight when he trailed off, seemingly gripped by something painful.

"My father used to hate my art. I borrowed his knife to carve that very piece, and he flew into such a rage...it was one of the first times he ever laid a hand on me."

"Why do you call him that? He's not your real dad," she wondered, watching as he fiddled about with the piece of wood.

"He's done damage only a father could do." He settled the figurine back on the shelf, inquiring over his shoulder, "What did he say to you?"

Months ago, she might have been unsure. After he'd been so adamant about not wanting the baby, saying he didn't care...but not now. Not while she was standing amongst the proof of his love, his devotion to a child that hadn't even been born yet. So, Hayley didn't hesitate as she told him, "Nothing true."

It has been a long, long day. After breaking open her brother's grave with a sledgehammer and finding that box inside with Marcel, Cami was spent, yet also wide awake. It must be the stress. She wanted someone to talk to about all of this, desperately, someone without their own agenda. If Elena had still been here, she would have gone to her, but since she wasn't...another brunette would have to suffice.

Walking through the compound, Cami was weirded out by the quiet, like she was underwater, even the sounds of the party raging outside muted and full within these walls. Klaus was no where in sight, and since she didn't see Elijah, either, she guessed he was still on the hunt for Elena. She didn't know her way around all the floors just yet, so she called out quietly, "Hi, Hayley, it's Cami. I was wondering if I could talk to you about something?"

"I'm on the floor above you!" she heard the woman call out, and the blonde eventually found herself coming to a stop in front of what looked like a nursery.

"Oh, wow," she breathed, just a little bit awed. "This is your nursery?"

"It was Klaus' idea, apparently, and Elena pitched in to help," Hayley explained, resting on the window seat. "I was just as surprised as you are."

"I'm not, really. I've always known that he cared a lot about being a good dad, given what his did to him and all. Are you okay from earlier? I was really worried, but you seem fine now."

"I almost wasn't. I...I met Klaus' dad. I was technically dead, and his ghost tried to kill me and the baby."

Dear God this town was messed up.

"I'm assuming you took care of him?" Camille asked, and she didn't even feel a flicker of remorse when the other woman nodded. "He's not coming anywhere near us again, not after I staked him through the heart."

"Good. I found a box today, at my brother's grave, left there by my uncle for me. It's meant to lead to some dangerous weapon or something, something the humans could use against the supernatural faction if they ever got out of hand."

"That sounds pretty fair to me. Just...don't go pointing it in my direction, okay? I've had enough drama for a while."

Cami smiled warmly. "I couldn't agree more. And, I know you were getting pretty close with Elena...but I'd really like it if we could be friends as well, so long as you're okay with hanging out with a boring old human."

"Hey, you are not boring," Hayley insisted heatedly. "You put up with Klaus Mikaelson. You're a God, O' Connell. You know, he's not here right now -he saw Marcel had went whooshing after him- and he'll probably be gone a while. Wanna raid the fridge for some ice cream?"

"Lead the way."

Alone in the greenhouse -Genevieve had come back, only to disappear again after receiving an envelope with the Mikaelson family crest emblazoned in the wax seal, no doubt another ploy from Klaus to get the witch to do something for him- Davina cleared up the last of the glass that had got caught under the table after her failed séance this morning, the cut on her palm a reminder of her spectacular failure. She was a Harvest Girl, had nearly brought this city to it's knees before the sacrifice -not that she was proud of that by any means, of course; people, innocent people, more people like Tim, almost died because of her- but she should have been able to get this right, especially with the help of all the other Harvest Girls. Yes, they didn't have as much stake in contacting a dead musician they'd never met, but that shouldn't have mattered. She should have been able to see Tim.

She needed to make sure he was okay. She needed to tell him how sorry she was, how much she missed him.

Finished with the broken glass, she began restocking the herbs; Davina would need a good excuse to be here at gone midnight with no one around. Suddenly, she felt a chill race along her spin, every sense standing at alert. Spinning around, the skirts of her dress fluttering around her like anxious birds, Davina squinted into the darkness. Nothing there. It could be nothing. It might not even be Tim, could be one of the ancestors shdd disobeyed...but she didn't think so. This felt...twisted. Violent. Dark.

Evil.

"Hello?" Davina called out, picking up the mortar and pestle bowl -it was granite, and could definitely knock somebody out if she hit them over the head with it. "Is anybody there?"

Feeling like one of those girls who always got illed in the slasher films Josh liked to watch, she waited expectantly.

Nothing.

Chalking it up to exhaustion or the possibility she was going insane, Davina turned back to the table, and froze.

All the candles in the room were flickering, casting unnatural, liquid shadows over everything. Next, the wind chimes picked up despite a lack of breeze, and the young witch could have sworn she heard the haunting notes of Tim's melody in their music.

Someone was definitely here with her.

"There's no need to be afraid, girl, I promise I won't harm you. It's not like I can, anyway, in my current state," came a voice from behind her, one she'd never heard before.

Slowly, Davina glanced up at whoever was before her. He was an older man with short blond hair and eyes as hard as steel. They gave her pause, stilled the breath in her chest, some primal instinct screaming at her to get away; she was instantly curious.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?"

"Who I am is not of any great importance to you, Miss Claire. As for how I arrived here...I have you to thank for that."

Okay, cryptic much?

"Your séance allowed me access to this world once again," he explained, likely sensing her confusion. "But my coming to you is no accident."

Of course it wasn't. It, like everything, boiled down to one question, and one question only: "What do you want with me?"

The man scoffed dramatically. "Isn't it obvious, child? I want you to bring me back to life."

Tangle with necromancy? Was he serious? Crossing her arms over her chest, Davina tapped her foot impatiently. "And why would I ever help you?"

"Because I'm the only one who can ride you of Klaus Mikaelson, the monster who killed your beloved Timothy. He's moved on, child, to somewhere he can do him no harm."

"You want to kill Klaus? Why? What did he ever do to you?"

"He committed the worst crime imaginable," the man replied gravely. "He called me father."

It was nearing five in the morning when the car went passed the 'Welcome to Mystic Falls!' sign, the beginnings of a pink-grey dawn filtering through the clouds. They'd take a ten minute stop at a gas station a few hours ago, and Elena was immensely grateful to be out of her dirty, blood-soaked clothes -it warmed her that even though Elijah had likely been in a state of complete panic and nearing a meltdown (Elena knew she would have been, if she'd been in his position) Elijah had still taken the time to grab her a change of clothes. Stefan was asleep behind her, as was the turncoat Traveler, Maria. Elena still wasn't so sure about what to do with her. He'd had his ups and downs, but Tyler was still one of them, she'd known him since childhood; could she really hand him over to this woman, with him trapped inside? It didn't sit well with her. She'd felt it herself, that helplessness, of being conscious one minute, then feel yourself slowly slipping away...

They'd find something. Somewhere, there was an answer. All they needed was the time to find it. The car turned down the familiar streets, each one the sight of a party or barbeque or some charity or historical event. It seemed so...small, compared to the grandeur and opulence she'd become accustomed to of New Orleans, the city so quiet and dead, for lack of a better word. No one was about, but every house they passed, Elena still wondered if some poor person was living inside, taken over by one of Marko's Travelers. They'd just reached the town square, the clocktower chiming the fourth hour, when the car began to speed up, just like the night she'd been kidnapped. It was enough to wake up Stefan and Maria, both of them instantly awake as Elijah tried, and failed, to slow the car.

The couple turned to each other, one word on both their minds: "Magic."

The car started to slow to a more normal speed, and for one, single second Elena entertained the idea that they were safe...only for the car to go speeding up again, so fast she could hear the engine rumbling.

And it was headed straight for Liv Parker.

"What do we do?" Stefan was the first to ask. "We can't kill her."

"I don't think the witch shares your moral certainties, Mr Salvatore," Elijah remarked dryly, staring down the blonde with her hands held straight out towards them.

"Stefan's right, sweetheart. She's only doing what her coven are telling her to do."

"Yeah, to kill both of you! And probably me," piped up Maria from the back.

"Look, we're running out of options, and we're running out of road!" Grunting in frustration, Elena ran a hand through her hair, trying to think of a way out of this. Nothing could stop their magic...but there was something they could do to surprise them.

"Elijah, unlock the passenger side door and hit the gas."

At her resolved tone, the Original cut her a worried glance. "Are you about to do something I won't approve of, but my brother would."

"Most definitely," the brunette smirked, kissed him on the cheek, opened the car door, and jumped. Rolling as she went, Elena closed her eyes as chunks of loose asphalt tore at her clothes and exposed skin, the wounds closing almost as soon as they'd formed. Waving her arms about, Elena yelled at the top of her lungs, "Hey, Liv, I heard you were looking for me?"

The witch turned her head, the motion enough of a distraction that she dropped her arms, allowing the car to sail on by.

"Thanks for making this easier on me. Really, it isn't anything person. I just do what my people tell me."

Elena scrunched up her nose. "That's a little unhealthy, don't you think? Don't you want to be your own person?"

"We do," her brother, Luke, admitted, coming up from behind her. "But we can only do that if there's still a world to live in. So, one of you has to die."

"Yeah, only one. But, since you tried to kill me and all..." Liv trailed off with a wicked grin. "I think I'll pick you."

"I'd like to see you try, curly fries," Elena snarled as she lunged, vamping behind her and pinning her arm across her back, the screech of tires as Elijah stopped the car the only sound in the quiet dawn. Liv tried putting up her other hand, but nothing happened.

She tried again. "Luke! Luke, it's starting!"

"Elena, be careful!" the vampire heard the Original call out, just as the sun started to peek out from behind the clouds, her flesh bubbling and peeling across her hands. Holding in a scream, she tossed Liv in her brother's general direction, hurtling for the safety of the car.

"Okay, I think we need a new plan," Elena painted between clenched teeth. "Preferably one where none of us die."

Grimacing in pain, Stefan gestured to a familiar building. "I think I have an idea."

The last time Elijah Mikaelson set foot in the Mystic Grill, he'd been hauling Kol out after a particularly indulgent night at the bar. As the quartet stormed inside, Matt Donovan -poor lad, he was still working here?- sprang up from behind the bar, almost knocking his head on the underside of the shelves. Rushing towards them, he completely bypassed Stefan and went straight to Elena, wrapping her up in a fierce hug. "Man, you are a sight for sore eyes. Literally, you both look like hell." Glancing at Elijah, the blue eyed young man stared him down. "I thought you were supposed to be taking care of her."

"He is, honestly," Elena was quick to assuage his concerns. "This is because of the Travelers. Markos has started his spell, the town square is crawling with Travelers and our daylight rings don't work. We need to get out of here, and Stefan remembered the tunnels-"

"They're right in the back. Do you want me to call Jer for you, let him know you're okay?"

Elena nodded tightly. "I want him as far away from Damon as possible right now, who's likely doing something stupid right as we speak."

Opening the door to the stockroom, Elijah was the first to notice that they were a member short. "You're not coming with us?" he asked Maria, frowning when she shook her head. "I can't leave my husband. I'm sure you understand."

He did. "Travel safe." Walking over the the hatch, he helped lower Elena down, the younger Salvatore dropping into the darkness after her. Before he could follow them, Elijah felt a hand at his elbow, belonging to a certain bartender.

"I know you Originals don't exactly have a great rep in this town," Matt began halting, obviously both unnerved at uncomfortable at whatever he had to say. "But if you make Elena happy...I guess that's all that matters, to me at least. Good luck trying to convince Damon, though."

Elijah had to agree. "Thank you, Mr Donovan. Please do try to stay alive; I hate seeing Elena cry, and I know my sister was rather fond of you," he remarked before closing the hatch and jumping down beside Elena.

"Were you having a moment with Matt Donovan?" Elena teased him, pulling on his black tie with a teasing smile.

"I was. He's a nice boy. You have good taste."

"Um, hello, I can you hear you both. Can we plase focus on staying alive rather than your couple banter, please?"

Elena stuck her tongue out but complied, holding in to Elijah's hand with a vice-like grip as they navigated the pitfalls and sharp rocks, the rough-hewn walls scraping at their clothes like greedy fingers. He could almost feel it, the moment when the spell reached them. Indeed, the growing patch of red on his shirt was a clear indicator, as was the feeling of being run through with a sword. But it was far less of an agony than watching Elena cough, lungs filling with water as she looked at him helplessly. Up ahead, Stefan was bent over, bleeding from a bullet wound in the abdomen.

Putting an arm around his girlfriend, Elijah dug out his phone and called the only young witch he liked. "Davina," he began without preamble, "how is your elemental magic?"

"It's a little rusty, and I'm pretty spent since I just did a big spell for Marcel-" he'd file that away for later, "but I guess you wouldn't be calling if it wasn't important, or about Elena. So...what can I do to help?"

"I need you to get to the compound and use a spell from my mother's grimoire," Elijah told her, holding Elena more tightly to his chest as her coughing increased. They were never going to outlast this spell, not like this. "Klaus will have it under lock and key, but you tell him that you have my permission. If he decides to be particularly pig-headed, drop him if you have to."

"Okay, I can do that. What do I need to do?"

"I need you to make it rain."

It was six in the morning, and Klaus was glaring at his phone like it had personally offended him. He didn't want to make this call. But if something went wrong today, if Marcel got a hold of the black kyanite for the moonlight rings or some other obstacle emerged that he had not yet anticipated, and since he was one Original short...he needed back-up.

With a heavy sigh and a heavier heart, Klaus picked up the phone and dialled. "Hello, sweetheart. I need you to come home."

Author's Note: Hello, everyone! I finally finished part three! I'm not sure when I'll have part two of this one done, but I promise the wait won't be nearly as extensive as it was last time. I hope I did a good job incorporating canon, peppering with a few quotes here and there. I'm not sure if Stefan's middle name really is Antinio or not, it was the first thing that came up when I went on Google, but I think it suits him. Also, the Mandarin is taken from Cassandra Clare's 'Clockwork Princess' so I can't take any credit for that. Anyway, thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!

All my love, Temperance Cain.