You hide in Kol's bedroom for as long as you can without it being suspicious. It's unfair, but you don't want to see anyone. Rebekah's words echo in your head.

You're not stupid. You know there's been something going on: something more than casual acquaintanceship. More than friendship. But you also know that you're not ready to be involved with the Mikaelsons, not like that. You don't want to be apart of whatever cycle the Mikaelsons are doomed to repeat. You like them. So much that sometimes it hurts.

You've been abandoned too many times. You think if they left you too, you would shatter.

You swallow and get ready.

Kol has breakfast ready for you when you finally leave his bedroom. You keep steady eye contract with the floor. (Crying in front of people leaves a nasty taste in your mouth). Especially when that person is a vampire with little regard to human emotion.

Maybe that's unfair. Kol was kind to you yesterday.

He always is, isn't he?

Another shudder rolls through you.

"Morning," he says and he's holding out a coffee for you. You don't have the heart to tell him you'd prefer tea, so you take it. You need the warmth.

"Morning." You sit down at the bar. "What's for breakfast?"

"There's a cafe down the street. I didn't know what you like, so I got a variety."

You open one of the containers. There's a breakfast scramble inside: shredded potato, mushroom, tomato, and Italian sausage. You take one of the plastic forks from the bag. It's good. You could do better.

"Thank you," you say. Kol doesn't eat with you. "Do you ever eat human food?"

"Sometimes. Mostly with you."

"I'm honored," you say dryly, "I didn't know you liked my baking that much."

"Food's important to you."

"… Yes," you echo, "I suppose it is."

You eat your breakfast and Kol drinks coffee that's just a bit too red. You avert your eyes.

"Elijah texted."

"I'm surprised he knows how."

Kol cracks a smile. "He says your house is ready. He'll come by later to get you."

Thank god. Relief at not having to return to the Mikaelson residence sweeps over you.

"Do you all just take turns babysitting me?"

"I wouldn't call it babysitting," he says blithely. You wrinkle your nose at him, remembering a similar conversation with Klaus. You almost say something along the lines of 'Didn't your parents teach you to share' before thinking better of it.

You're not the only one being careful before you speak. Kol treats you with kid gloves through the rest of the day. You'd give him shit if you didn't need it. His babysitting checklist also involves convincing you to watch a movie. He lets you choose. (You have to broaden his horizons somehow).

You rent Grosse Pointe Blank for $3.99 and Kol sprawls on the couch, carefully not touching you. The oil smell has almost disappeared from yesterday. A fire truck wails from a few streets over.

"Do you stay here most of the time?" You ask. Kol shrugs carelessly.

"Only when I want to avoid Nik. I like my independence."

"I can't believe you lied to my face just to stay at my house."

"A necessary evil, darling."

"You could have just said you wanted to stay over."

Kol tilts his head side to side. "Yes, but it would have been less fun. Half the fun's in the chase."

Normally, you would return his banter. Instead, you swallow and change the subject.

One movie turns into two. You eat more takeout when you get hungry and drink coffee that's been sitting out too long. Kol carefully avoids any topic more serious than film critique. You can tell he wants to ask about last night, but he doesn't. Gratitude for the strange friendship the two of you have cultivated flourishes in you. You hope it's not a ploy.

You don't know what you would do without him.

Halfway into the third movie, Elijah shows up.

"I was worried you died," Kol says.

"Thank you for your concern," Elijah answers wryly. His eyes slide over to the left over beignets. They're not as good the day after. "I see my brother treated you well. Or is it the other way around?"

"She offered to bake for us!" Kol says indignantly.

"He did buy me breakfast," you tack on, "So maybe a bit of both."

"I'm glad the two of you are getting along. Kol needs someone to correct his behavior."

He snarls at his brother, but doesn't bother getting up from the couch. You smile despite your mood.

"Come off it, Elijah. You're lucky I gave you this address."

"I'm sure by tomorrow you'll have a new hideaway. Now," Elijah says, directing his attention to you, "Are you ready to see your house?"

You are horrifically ready. You jump off the couch, Kol reluctantly following you to the door. Elijah offers you his arm. You reach to take it and then hesitate. You turn and swoop Kol up in a hug.

"Thanks," you say, quietly enough that if Elijah was human he wouldn't be able to hear it. But he isn't, so you don't say anything else.

Kol hugs you back. "You're welcome, darling."

You let him go and take Elijah's arm.

"So," he says when the door's closed and you're halfway to the car, "How was your day away from Niklaus?"

"Exactly what the doctor ordered," you say, only mildly lying, and then quiet, "How is he?"

"He evolved from throwing a tantrum to moping," Elijah says blithely, "I would even say that by the end of the week, he'll be back to normal."

"I see."

You get to the car before Elijah says anything else. He holds the door open, leaning against it. The wind ruffles his hair as he gazes down the street.

"I'd apologize for Niklaus's actions, but I don't think it would mean much."

His eyes are dark and solemn.

"No," you say with a tight smile, "I prefer it straight from the source."

Never going to happen.

Elijah ducks his head in agreement. He closes the passenger door for you before walking around the front. It's funny, how old-fashioned Elijah is compared to his siblings. He's the only one who acts like he came out of a different century.

Sometimes you forget how old they are.

"You know a normal person couldn't get a deed ready in two days," you say once he puts the car in drive.

"Give me some credit," he says, "I had it in one. Decorating took two."

"Elijah, how presumptuous."

He smiles that half-smile.

"I have my moments," he responds easily.

The house is just as beautiful as you remember. You're glad Elijah didn't show you some place new with fresh paint and a boring atmosphere. It's strange that he knows your tastes so well so quickly. How horrifying, to be known.

"You weren't kidding about decorating."

You stand frozen in the doorway. Some of your furniture is here. Your arm chairs (although with new slipcovers), Rebekah's velvet settee. Most importantly, your kitchen supplies are already in the cabinets.

"Your house has been unpacked," Elijah continues, "Anything not here is in boxes in the garage. Your car is parked inside."

A garage. You have a garage. You've never had a garage.

You wander through the house, viewing it with fresh eyes. The ceilings are higher than your old home, there's not dirt embedded in the baseboards or cracks that are painted over instead of filled. It smells like lemon cleaner and bleach. The kitchen has new countertops. (Elijah, apparently, couldn't stand for you to have plain laminate and has opted for granite).

"Elijah…" You start, "This is too much."

"You're welcome to be the one to tell my brother that," he says, "After all, it's rude to refuse a gift."

"It's not really a gift," you say dryly, "I threatened Klaus into letting me move out of the manor."

Elijah's lips quirk into something resembling a smile.

"Perhaps," he says, "But that doesn't seem to be your only concern."

You avoid eye contract, instead choosing to trace the gray veins in your new granite counter top. Your finger doesn't hit any snags, only smooth stone.

"I'm worried I'm taking advantage of your generosity," you admit after a moment, "I know I didn't ask for any of this, but—"

Elijah interrupts, something he almost never does.

"You are not taking advantage of us. Money means little when you've lived this long."

"It seems stupid to waste all this on me."

"I wouldn't call it wasting. You're deserving."

"What makes me more deserving than anyone else? Just because I know you?"

"Yes," he says blithely.

At least Elijah's honest. You rub your temples and ignore the way Rebekah's words echo in triplicate inside your head. You hope desperately this isn't just because they want something from you.

The one thing more terrifying than oweing someone, is having to pay them back.

"I'm sorry," you say quietly after a moment, "Thank you."

"You're not used to this."

"That's an understatement."

"Yes," Elijah says, "I suppose it is." He's still lingering on the porch. "I'm sure you want to get settled."

Despite wanting to be leave ever since you stepped foot in the Mikaelson manor, you abruptly don't want to be alone.

"Stay," you blurt out, "I can make dinner."

Elijah's eyebrows raise involuntarily. "Of course," and then he tacks on, "You'll have to invite me in."

You flush.

"I always forget, I'm sorry. Please come in, Elijah."

He steps inside and closes the door behind him.

The fridge is already stocked. It's hardly any effort to make dumplings. Elijah, as usual, helps.

"Can you get the dough ready? I'll make the filling."

You pull out a recipe card for him and he obeys. He lets the yeast bloom in warm water, getting the flour ready in another bowl.

"You're much more help than Kol," you comment.

"I'm afraid he and Rebekah refused to learn how to cook. Their attempts as humans were disastrous."

You still at the mention of Rebekah. If Elijah notices, you can't tell.

He probably does.

"Did they still live at home? When you…"

"Yes," Elijah confirms without making you continue, "Most often children would move out once married."

"Were you?" You ask before you think better of it. Elijah pauses in his kneading.

"No. There was someone, once. Niklaus and I had a bit of a falling out over her."

"Oh," you say, "I'm sorry. What happened?"

"She couldn't choose. Our immaturity didn't help," he says. You feel a brief stab of panic. Is that what they're going to make you do? Choose?

You can't. You couldn't.

Elijah doesn't notice your wide eyes as he continues. "In the end, she was sacrificed in the spell that turned us into vampires."

You need to learn to stop asking questions.

"I'm sorry," you say again, but Elijah waves you off.

"It was a very long time ago."

The dough is done and the filling is cooked. You roll out the dough into small circles. By the time you try to show him how to fold them, he's already finished three dumplings with nice, even pleats.

"I might keep you around."

"I should hope so. I'm good for more than just cooking, you know."

"You're also pretty good at decorating."

Elijah's lips twitch. "Thank you for that endorsement."

Your lips twitch and coat your pan in sesame oil. You panfry the dumplings until the bottoms are brown and then fill the pan up with an inch of water. The steam dissipates as they cook. The exhaust hood in your new kitchen is better than any you've had before.

It doesn't feel like you live here, not yet. This house is too nice. It feels like the rug is going to get pulled out from under you any moment.

You tamp down the feeling.

"I have a couple different types of sauces," you say, "So pick whatever one you like."

Elijah goes with your stir fry sauce. You stick with sweet-and-sour.

"Thank you for cooking," Elijah says politely, sitting down across from you, "It's rare any of us get home cooked meals."

"Thanks for helping. I can't believe none of you cook."

Elijah inclines his head.

"It wasn't a conscious decision. It's just always taken a back seat to more important matters."

"I refuse to believe you had so many attempted assassinations that you couldn't find time to eat together."

"Well," Elijah muses, "We do eat together, quite a bit."

You get the sense he's not talking about food.

"May I ask why you pursued cooking?" He continues.

You bite into a dumpling to avoid the question.

"… My mom cooked a lot," you finally say, "We always ate dinner together."

"You don't see your parents much."

"No," you say, stabbing a dumpling forcefully, "They're… not good people."

Elijah's silent. Words start to spill out of you.

"They were neglectful," you admit and it's been years since you've talked about your parents, longer still since you've been honest, "I was an accident."

"Ah," Elijah says, "I see."

"Not as terrible as your parents, I know," you say with a bitter smile. Elijah makes a non-committal noise.

"It's hard to say. Do you know why we were turned into vampires?"

You shake your head. Elijah rests his wrist on the table and leans back in his chair, head tilted.

"Our youngest brother, Henrik, was killed in a werewolf incident. Our parents must have loved us, at one point. They loved us enough to turn us into this to prevent us from befalling the same fate. What they didn't know," Elijah says wryly, "Is that they were turning us into monsters."

"You're not monsters."

"No?" Elijah asks, interest piqued briefly, "There are many that wouldn't say the same. So no, I couldn't say our suffering is any worse than yours. We've had a thousand years to heal."

"Have you? Healed, I mean."

Elijah closes his eyes and laughs something quiet and humorless.

"No," he finally says, "I can't say we have."

He turns his head and you're quiet.

"Elijah," you say, voice small, "Can I ask you something?

He looks at you, brow furrowed.

"Of course."

"Rebekah mentioned something last night."

"I heard there was an incident."

Cold washes over you. "What did Kol say?"

"Little more than that. He didn't give any details."

"… Rebekah kissed me," you admit, "And she mentioned something about…"

You trail off. You have no idea how to phrase this. Well, that's not entirely true.

How they love someone and throw them aside when they're bored.

(Well, love might be a broad word for what Rebekah was implying. You can read between the lines).

Luckily, Elijah's eyes close in understanding.

"I see," he says, "That must have been… startling."

You choke on a dry laugh.

"Yeah," you say, "It was."

"I know it must seem strange to you. It's not something we plan. Our family has a history of… sharing."

"Rebekah implied you all just picked a new person every few hundred years."

Elijah shakes his head.

"She makes us sound so uncouth," he muses, "No, we don't plan these things. We just somehow keep repeating past mistakes."

Something in you shrivels.

"I see."

"But," Elijah continues, "I cannot speak for my siblings' intentions, but I don't believe that's what's happening here."

You notice how he avoids saying what his intentions are. It never occured to you before yesterday that he had any.

"Then what is happening here?"

Elijah splits a dumpling in half, ponderously staring at the table. The sun is setting and the burnt orange settles in his hair.

"Something different," he finally says, "Something new."

You try to ignore the part of you that desperately hopes he's telling the truth.

"You know they say repeating past mistakes is the definition of insanity."

Elijah's lips curl into a wry smile.

"Yes," he says, "So I've heard."

You finish dinner without incident, with only the smallest pit in your stomach. You offer to make Elijah tea, but he declines. You dawdle by the door when it's time for him to leave.

"Can I ask a favor?" You ask.

"Anything."

Your fingernails dig into your palm.

"Could you tell the others I need some time? Especially Klaus. I think we all need some space right now."

To make sure that this is real, that they all won't leave you when they get bored.

So it hurts less when they do.

"Of course," Elijah says, "How much time do you need?"

You think.

"Let's try a month."

He offers you a small smile. "Just let us know. Please take all the time you need."

You fling yourself at him and wrap your arms around his waist.

"Thank you, Elijah."

He returns your embrace.

"Someone in my family has to be reasonable."

You even laugh at that.

He leaves and you're alone in this house that's everything you ever wanted and still feel something missing. You go to sleep without tea.

Hope you guys liked the chapter :-) I'm recovering from a cold right now so I thought I'd update early. Also, Finn will be showing up in the next couple chapters!