AN: Hello friends! This chapter was super long and editing was a struggle of a lifetime, but it's here, finally! It's a huge transitional chapter, so much is about to happen, so I wanted to get it right. I hope everyone is doing well!

Also shoutout to Guesty who left a review on the last chapter that made me laugh myself silly in the staff lounge at work. There was no explaining that to any of my coworkers.

Without further ado, enjoy!

Addendum

(n.)

A thing to be added; an addition.

Chapter Fourteen

Route 666

aka

You Were Everything For A Little While

Cape Girardeau, Missouri/New Orleans, Louisiana: May 1, 2018

John Winchester is having breakfast in a diner in New Mexico when the hybrid who has been following him for a week slides into the booth across from him.

"John Winchester," the hybrid says, drawing out his name with a smirk.

John looks up and his stomach drops.

The hybrid nods. "I know, right? It's uncanny."

He takes in the sandy brown hair, the freckles across the nose, the eyes absinthe green instead of golden, but still green. The smirking planes of his face give John acid reflux.

"People tell me I look like him all the time."

John clears his throat, maintains his composure. "What the hell do you want?"

He shakes his head mockingly. "No, no, no. It's not what I want."

He strikes the table with his finger, perfectly exaggerating every mimicked characteristic.

"It's about what Klaus wants." He leans back, glancing around the diner with exaggerated ease.

John doesn't hide his contempt. "So that's why you've been following me?"

The hybrid is feasting on a waitress with nothing but his eyes.

"Yeah, he's got a very important message he wants me to give you," is what he says when he finally drags his eyes away from his target.

John looks at him, mouth full of the taste of hate and fear, none of it reflecting on his face. "Well?"

"See, it's been awhile since he's seen Elena."

John stirs his coffee with deliberate slowness.

"She went at Christmas, she's not due back for months."

The hybrid shrugs. "All I know is what Klaus said." He leans in. "See, me? I think he just misses her."

His eyes shine, a flash of lupine charm. "You think she'd like me? I hear I'm her type. I saw her once, walking around Bourbon Street with one of those quarter witch-bitches. She's hot. I dunno how your boy does it, keeping his hands to himself. I wouldn't."

He's gone before John can reply.

Sam isn't exactly sure what wakes him up. It might've been a passing car, headlights shining through the curtains, the distant wail of an ambulance, the couple in the room above them arguing, maybe even a baby crying. Whatever it was, it's passed, the night is still again.

It's pitch black, he rolls over to the cool side of his bed, the other bed coming into view. He counts the familiar sleeping forms in bed, Dean – one, Elena – two… there is no two. Elena is not in bed.

Then he hears it, the bathroom door hastily half closed, her voice, low and agitated – and that's when he realizes he's not as awake as he thought. He's being pulled back under before he can think to fight it, and he can only make out one word from her frantic whispering.

"John."

When he wakes up the next morning, Elena is gone. There's a note on the bedside table between their beds, addressed to both of them, facing Dean.

Dean & Sam,

Something came up, I'll be gone for a few days.

Be back before you know it.

We'll talk soon.

Take care,

Elena

"Has she ever done this before?" Sam asks.

Dean shakes his head, eyes still on the note. "Never." He sounds grim.

"You don't think?" Sam clears his throat. "I mean, her stuff is gone, so, she left of her own free will, right?"

He doesn't know why he hasn't told Dean about hearing Elena on the phone. He just knows that thinking about the way she said their father's name gives him vertigo. For all he knows, he dreamed it.

"Yeah, probably. She's fine. She'll call soon." Dean sounds more like he's trying to convince himself than anything else.

Sam's response is to pull out his phone and call Elena. It rings and rings and rings and goes to voicemail. He puts his phone away slowly.

"Maybe you should call?" he suggests.

Dean just looks at him. Something in his face tells Sam that he can't bear Elena not picking up the phone.

Still, he grabs his phone.

Sam holds his breath as it rings.

Something in Dean's face seems to break the longer it rings – it's a terrible kind of déjà vu. His hand twitches, and Sam is sure he is going to hang up. Instead, Elena answers.

"Hello?"

Her voice echoes, and she sounds distracted, but it is unmistakably her.

"Elena," Dean says, sounding relieved. "Where the hell are you?"

"The airport," she replies, like it's obvious.

"The airport?" Dean echoes in disbelief. "What's going on? What's wrong?"

She clears her throat. "It's just personal business, not anything to worry about. I'm sorry, I just really need to take care of this, okay?"

"I don't know what any of that means, Elena," Dean says, sounding just this side of distraught. "I mean, if this isn't a big deal, why the hell didn't you wake me up? I would've taken you to the airport."

"It's fine, Dean, I'm already here –" In the background there is an announcement for a flight to New Orleans, Louisiana, now boarding.

"I have to go. My flight is boarding. I'll call you later, Dean. Bye." She hangs up.

Sam holds his breath, staring at Dean's stunned face.

"Elena doesn't have anybody but Jeremy. He's in Brooklyn." Dean's just stating the obvious.

Sam lets out his breath, nodding slowly.

Dean gets a strange look of realization on his face. "She always avoids New Orleans, whenever we get a job there, she goes to see Jeremy, or takes off with Dad."

Sam's eyes widen as he remembers that very first night in outside his apartment building. He'd never thought of it again, Dean's annoyance and Elena's avoidance hadn't seemed important at the time. New Orleans had seemed worlds away.

"She acted like I was crazy for thinking it meant anything."

Sam doesn't mean to say what he says next, but it slips out. "Elena's a really good liar."

He's surprised when Dean says nothing. He expects him to jump to her defense, but instead he just stares hard at the carpet like it can tell him why exactly Elena is boarding a plane to New Orleans as they speak.

Sam exhales. "I think I heard her on the phone last night in the bathroom."

Dean looks up sharply, almost glaring at him. "What did she say? Why didn't you tell me before?"

Sam shakes his head, looking down at his hands. "I was mostly asleep, I wasn't even sure that I wasn't dreaming…I didn't hear most of what she was saying, but…" he trails off. "I think she was talking to our dad." He risks a glance at Dean, who looks thrown. "I think I heard her say his name. That's all I could make out, just the name John."

On the plane to Louisiana, Elena contemplates the particular situation she's in.

A private jet ride to see your sick friend in the hospital without delay. A bit of tampering with the evidence in a murder trial. It's not like just anyone can call in those kinds of favors.

You need to know the right people; have the right friends. Elena knows this, so she cultivates the ones that count. She's not Katherine who makes enemies like she breathes, breaks-hearts, snaps-necks, betrays, paints-her-lips-red. Elena has always been friendly.

So, all Elena can do is sit on the plane and hope to god that Dean and Sam didn't hear the boarding announcement for New Orleans. Otherwise she's going to have a few too many problems when she lands and the capacity to only deal with about half of them.

She knows she already has problems, John is pissed, Dean might never forgive her for taking off like this, and Sam already gives her enough questioning, wary looks that she pretends not to notice. There's nothing she can do about it now; she just has to deal with the consequences of her actions.

In the seat beside her, a little old lady smiles at her, lonely and eager for conversation.

"Are you visiting family, dear?"

It's not hard to understand the basic principle of a favor. Someone does something for you with the understanding that in time you will repay them in one way or the other.

Elena smiles numbly back at her. "Friends, actually."

"Oh, how nice!"

The problem is Elena's friends like to be paid in blood.

It takes Sam about an hour to realize that Dean is driving to New Orleans.

"How exactly do you plan on finding her?" Apparently, it is Sam's turn to think logically. "New Orleans is a big city, Dean."

Dean shrugs. "I'll figure it out when we get there."

"Dean, this is a bad idea, we don't even know what we're walking into."

"What if Dad's there?"

Sam sucks in a breath.

A satisfied smirk works its way across Dean's face.

"We have no proof he is," Sam says finally.

"Hey, you heard Elena on the phone with someone last night and you heard her say his name. Next morning, we wake up and she's gone. When she calls, we hear that she's boarding a plane to New Orleans. I'm just drawing the obvious conclusions here."

Sam shakes his head. "All we know is that Dad maybe called her last night and Elena is maybe going to New Orleans."

Dean shrugs. "It's enough for me."

Sam exhales through his teeth. He glances around, grasping for some kind of argument. The gas gauge catches his eye. He nearly sighs in relief.

"Gas is low," he says.

Dean checks for himself before he starts looking for a gas station. A few miles down the road he pulls up to a fill in station.

Once he's out of the car, Sam finally lets out that sigh. It's barely a proper stalling, but it's the best he can do at the moment.

He gets out of the car, pretending to look for a snack, stalling for time. Out of habit he grabs Grape Vines for Elena before he remembers. He puts them back quietly.

He pretends to agonize between powdered lemonade and ginger ale that goes flat as soon as it's opened. He looks through the magazine rack three times.

He contemplates the pre-packaged cupcakes, trying to forget what his last birthday was like. That's what it's like when you're a hunter, some things just get left on the wayside. The job consumes everything.

Truthfully, he can't quite figure out why he suddenly doesn't want to go chasing after Elena to discover her secrets. Maybe it's Dean suddenly changing his course. As far as Sam knows, he's been mostly okay with all of her secrets and omissions until now. He explicitly said Elena's secrets were the price for her presence, and he's always seemed willing to pay it before.

Still, something about Elena leaving in the middle of the night just feels wrong to him, and it makes him wary. John Winchester is the kind of man who kills monstersthe first go around. Very few of them required more than a few days of attention. Only the hunt for his wife's killer had spanned decades.

So what is Elena's monster if John Winchester believes running is her only option?

Sam can't shake the idea that they're in over their heads with Elena's secrets – and he has a feeling Elena knows that.

Finally, running out of excuses to stall, he pays for his ginger ale and heads back out, bracing himself for the ensuing argument.

His brother is standing by the car, phone to his ear, listening intently.

"Dean, I don't think we should go to New Orleans just yet-" he starts.

Dean hangs up the phone, shakes his head. "We're not going to New Orleans."

Sam stares. "We're not?" Relief nearly makes his knees weak. "Was that Elena?" he asks, referring to the phone call. "Did she explain what's going on?"

Dean shakes his head. "No, wasn't her. We're going to Missouri. We've got a job." With that he gets into the driver's seat.

Dean's about face has Sam reeling with confusion. He gets into the car.

"What job?" He looks at his brother. "And who was that on the phone?"

Dean clears his throat. "It was an uh, old friend. Her father was killed last night. She thinks it might be our kinda thing."

Dean's about face is just a bit too much for Sam.

"What?"

"Yeah, believe me, she never would've called, never, if she didn't need us."

Sam just stares at him. As far as he knows, Elena is Dean's only female friend, and calling them friends never ceases to feel like an oversimplification to Sam. So, he takes the term 'old friend' with a grain of salt.

"But what about Elena?" he asks warily.

Dean shrugs, struggling to look casual, his face stone.

"Elena's a full-grown hunter, she doesn't need us, she knows her three M's: monsters, mythology, munitions. She can take care of herself."

When Elena arrives at baggage claim she half expects Dean and Sam to be waiting for her there, pissed off and full of questions, despite knowing it will take them hours longer to get here if they make an attempt. She doesn't know if either of them overheard her phone call with John, but it's a distinct possibility, they're both light sleepers. She's almost positive they heard the boarding call for her flight here, and Dean never forgets that she won't go to New Orleans with him. He might not know why, but he understands that it means something, no matter how much she wishes he didn't.

To her relief, a much friendlier face is waiting for her.

Marcel is wearing a bejeweled chauffeur's cap, her duffle bag slung over his shoulder and a sign with Miss Gilbert neatly printed on it. She grins at him shaking her head.

"Need a ride, Miss?" He gives her a playful wink then pulls her in for a hug, kissing her on her cheek.

"He has you working as a chauffeur now?" She steps out of his embrace, allowing him to pull her backpack from her shoulder and onto his free one.

He shakes his head, slinging an arm over her shoulders. "Nah, I volunteered for the gig, figured you could use a friendly face before you meet the beast in the castle."

Elena snorts, leaning her cheek against his shoulder as he nimbly guides her through the airport.

Reaching up, she pulls the bejeweled hat from his head, putting it on her own. "Where did you find this hat?"

He grins. "A very friendly Las Vegas showgirl."

She raises an eyebrow. "And how did Rebekah feel about your very friendly Las Vegas showgirl?"

If anything, his grin gets wider. "Very good."

She shakes her head. "Never mind, forget I asked."

In the car he chats pleasantly about the city and catches her up on their mutual acquaintances, carefully avoiding asking about what she's been up to, sticking to lighter topics than her gutting monsters and running for her life.

She glances over at him. Their stalling has gone on long enough, so she takes the plunge. "So, do you know why he summoned me?"

Marcel sighs. "He's got some troubles. I don't wanna get into it, but I think he just needs a favor, that's all."

Elena raises an eyebrow at him. "Just a favor?" she echoes. "A favor for Klaus is never just a favor, we both know that."

"By "old friend" you mean…" Sam glances over at Dean.

His reply is expertly evasive. "A friend that's not new."

Sam snorts. "Yeah, thanks." He shakes his head but persists. "So, her name is Cassie, huh?"

Dean doesn't respond so Sam gives him another nudge. "You never mentioned her."

Dean's reply is frustratingly short and vague. "Didn't I?"

"No," Sam answers immediately.

Dean finally breaks. "Yeah, we went out."

"You mean you dated someone?" Sam asks, trying to clarify exactly what Dean means by all of this. "For more than one night?"

Dean glances over at him like he's clueless. "Am I speaking a language you're not getting here?"

Sam can't help but laugh at Dean's ire.

"Yeah, Dad and I were working a job in Athens, Ohio. She was finishing up college. We went out for a couple of weeks."

Sam stares at him. "And?"

Dean shrugs, shakes his head, and never takes his eyes off the road.

"Look, it's terrible about her dad," Sam starts. "But it kinda sounds like a standard car accident. I'm not seeing how it fits with what we do."

It dawns on him suddenly, and he's asking his next question before Dean can even begin to answer the first. "Which, by the way, how does she know what we do?"

This finally seems to unnerve Dean.

While he's freaking out because his brother broke the rule and told this Cassie when Sam never told Jess, it doesn't occur to Sam that no one ever had to break any rules to let Elena in on the secret. She was in this world before John Winchester came along. She's up to her ears in it, seconds from drowning in it.

The closer they get to the compound; the tenser Elena becomes.

"So, what was this about you calling all the crazy bitches of the quarter?"

She's not even surprised that it's gotten back to him.

Elena narrows her eyes at him. "Don't you mean witches?"

Marcel waves a careless hand. "Same thing. What did you need a witch for?"

Elena holds her breath. "He was gonna die."

He sucks in a breath. "And vampire blood wouldn't do the trick? I know you've always got some on you."

She shook her head. "It was a problem with his heart. You know it doesn't work that way."

He nods. "Right. Everything has its limits. So, did whatever the witches tell you work?"

She shook her head. "No, in the end it came down to a crazy Christ Crusader witch, a fake healer, and a reaper."

Marcel gives her a bemused look. "Y'all really never have a dull time, do you?"

She snorts. "Never."

For a moment she wrestles with her next question.

"Marcel have you ever- I mean, do you know…" she trails off.

She stares at him. She wants to believe he's her friend, he's always been kind to her, he's fun and easy to get along with. She trusts him with a lot of things, but it feels harder to trust him with this.

Without saying a word, Marcel understands her inner turmoil.

"I won't say anything about any of this, Elena. I keep your secrets, I swear."

She nods, feeling relieved but guilty for doubting him and their friendship.

"Have you ever heard anything about doppelgangers and reapers?" she asks. "Like, do we have a special connection to them or something?"

He shakes his head. "Not as far as I know. Tell you the truth, I've never met a reaper myself. I guess we all meet one eventually."

She nods slowly. "Right."

Before he can ask why exactly she's looking for information about reapers and doppelgangers, they arrive at their destination.

"Into the castle, princess."

She snorts, then smiles, a flash of bared teeth. "I'm not the princess, I'm the hunter."

Sam isn't really sure what to make of his first impression of Cassie. She seems smart and competent and completely at odds with his rebel-rousing older brother in his classic leather jacket and well-worn jeans.

He supposes any pretty girl could be counted as his brother's type, but there's something off-putting about an intelligent, capable career woman being the only evidence of Dean ever having a serious relationship. It makes everything he knows about his brother feel like a lie.

It doesn't occur to Sam until much later that what he finds the most unnerving is how uncomfortable Dean seems to be around Cassie. Somehow, he had not realized exactly how comfortable Dena is around Elena until now. Dean and Elena are like one perfectly in-sync, well-oiled machine. Dean and Cassie are at odds straight from the beginning.

Cassie is about as Lois Lane as they get, beautiful and determined to her core, standing in the newsroom with her sharp blazer and pencil skirt. There's nothing wrong with her, except how pained Dean's grin is when Sam's gotten used to the easiness Elena extracts from everyone, but Dean in particular.

Dean and Elena are as natural as breathing – silent communication, endless inside jokes, always on the same page – and suddenly he sees his brother stumble because he doesn't know the steps to the dance Cassie expects him to have memorized. He is tense when Sam expects him to be loose and easy.

He doesn't want to blame Cassie for this – after all, it's not her fault she's not Elena – but there is something disconcerting about seeing his brother falter. This is the girl Dean betrayed their family rule for, and she is nothing like Sam pictured; nothing like Elena Gilbert.

Marcel parks in the driveway and before he's even opened his own door Klaus is at Elena's door, opening it and offering his hand.

Elena raises an eyebrow. "Did you miss me?" she asks archly, well aware that it's what Katherine would say.

His mouth tightens in recognition, so she smiles and takes his hand, satisfied with his reaction.

"She's very excited to see you, don't play doppelganger charades today, Elena."

He pulls her out of the car effortlessly, leading her towards the door, leaving Marcel to deal with her bags.

She gives him a slightly bemused look. "She's one, she doesn't know me from the maid that cleans her room."

Klaus gives her an amused look.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that."

They're barely through the threshold when a small, golden-haired toddler attaches herself to Elena's leg.

"Mylena!" She giggles, grinning gap-toothed up at her, her cherubic face enough to make the toughest hunter melt into a pile of mush.

Elena scoops her up into her arms. Over his daughter's head, Elena gives Klaus a reproachful look.

"You taught her that."

He shakes his head, looking genuinely surprised. "She came up with it all on her own."

She turns her attention back to Hope. "Hey there, Birthday Girl."

Hope giggles again, babbling in baby language, liberally using her new nickname for Elena.

"Your daddy needs to stop talking about me so much, doesn't he?" she coos at her sweetly.

Klaus scowls.

As Cassie explains the circumstances of her father's death, Sam texts Elena, hoping for some kind of response, anything really. He'd take a series of seemingly unconnected and random emojis at this point. Anything but this radio silence and the growing chip on Dean's shoulder.

Where are you?

"…He didn't talk about the driver, just the truck…"

Did you land already?

"…He sold cars. He always drove a new one…"

Was your flight okay?

"…There was mud everywhere…"

We're in Missouri now.

"…Was a friend of your father's?..."

We took a case.

"…Same thing: dent, no tracks…"

It's a favor for some friend of Dean's.

"…Might be targets?..."

Are you okay?

"…Whatever it is you guys are into…"

Elena?

"…Skeptical?..."

When he looks up from his phone, Dean and Cassie are locked in a staring match so full of unresolved tension that it makes Sam's stomach roil.

He puts his phone away, disappointed at the lack of response.

"I just know that I can't explain what happened up there, so I called you."

Sam can't help but think of Elena's cavalier acceptance of every crazy situation they ran into. Then again, seeing is believing, and Elena's seen too much to be anything else but a believer.

At dinner, Elena is not surprised to find the hybrid sitting across from her is the reason John finally made contact with her. The hybrid's resemblance to John Winchester's eldest son is uncanny, but it's the differences that make her nauseous. Every once in a while, jade green eyes flash hybrid yellow, no trick of the light necessary. He drinks his wine bloody, too. Dean's never been one for wine.

He leans forward, forearms braced against the table, examining her face, looking utterly captivated.

"So, it's Elena, right?"

He tries hard to get the tone right, but even his best effort isn't deep enough.

She graces him a with an indifferent stare and soft hum of acknowledgement.

He grins like he's expecting some kind of reaction, so she gives him one.

"Anyone ever tell you…" he starts to smirk in anticipation, "you look like prey?" She shows him her teeth, reminding him of all the things his hunter counterpart has trained into her like a second nature. Deliberately she tips her glass of water over, spilling it across the table and right into his lap, the vervaine-laced liquid burning right through him.

He blanches, hissing in pain and leaning back so hastily that he accidentally pushes himself a good three feet away from the table. When everyone breaks into laughter, he turns a bright red, showing his weakness in a way Dean Winchester never would.

"Oops," she says sweetly. Like she'd walk into Klaus Fucking Mikaelson's house without lacing her water with vervaine. Klaus himself doesn't even look surprised, just amused, proud even.

She grins again, raising her wine glass to him, a gesture he returns. Klaus has always enjoyed seeing her put men in their place, and she's sure he reads some subtext into her rejecting his hybrid copycat of her partner.

Elena's phone continues to vibrate with Sam's anxiety. Elena ignores it in favor of the game.

After dinner, in Klaus' art studio, Klaus and Elena sit, just the two of them. He's pouring Elena another drink when she bluntly gets to the point.

"A hybrid that looks like Dean Winchester, really Klaus?" Her tone is dry, it's all she can do to hide how terrifying it was to see him across the dining room table, so familiar but so wrong at the same time.

He shakes his head. "Oh no, I can't take credit for that one. He practically begged me to turn him."

She eyes him with suspicion, but there's no way to prove that he went out of his way to find a werewolf with a striking resemblance to her partner, so she skips straight to her next point.

"So, are you going to tell me why I'm here or is it gonna be all hybrid dinner dates and toddler tea parties?"

Klaus gives Elena a chastising look, but he doesn't skimp on the bourbon, so she knows he's not all that annoyed with her.

"I mean, the toddler tea parties are fun, but hybrids aren't really all that crazy about me." She's almost daring him to react at this point. He hands gives her the glass. "I think it's the hunter thing, it's makes them uncomfortable."

He sits down across from her, his own glass in hand.

Without preamble, he begins. "There are rumblings of unruly wolves in the swamps of Alabama. I need you to stay with Hope while I'm away, just for a few days."

Elena stares at him, taken aback.

"You need me to babysit?"

He nods. "It's not like you've never done it before, I know you're capable."

She shakes her head, not fully believing.

"I thought this was about-" she cuts herself off.

He nods. "Yes, we should talk about that, but it can wait until I get back. Will you do it?"

"Why me? What about Rebekah? Or hell, Hayley, you know, Hope's mother?"

He sighs. "Rebekah isn't particularly pleased with me at the moment. No one else is around, and frankly I trust you more than any of them. I know you'll take care of her; I certainly know you can protect her."

Elena doesn't miss how he ignored her question about Hayley. She tries not to let her relief show at hearing that Rebekah isn't around. It's no use, he knows.

"Marcel's going with you?"

He nods. "Naturally."

"Where's Elijah?" she asks, unwilling to believe she is his only option.

"Away," he says succinctly. "I don't know when he'll be back, and he's not particularly pleased with me, either. Will you stay?"

"Of course," she says finally. This isn't the conversation she imagined happening. She came in, spine stiffened, ready for one of their snaking games of wits, compromising until they have a deal they can live with, not babysitting a cute toddler.

"Excellent, we leave immediately."

Elena wakes up early, long before Hope. She heads out for a run, a set destination in mind. It's laughably easy to break into where Davina is staying, but the young witch is thrilled to see her, despite the B&E and the early hour.

Elena invites her to spend the day with her and Hope, and Davina readily agrees. They catch up on each other's lives as Davina gets ready.

Later they walk back to the compound together, twisting through awakening neighborhoods. They get plenty of looks – the harvest witch and the doppelganger.

Elena catches the eye of a man, most likely a witch himself, the calculating look in his eyes reminding her of why she could never do this with Dean.

Sure, he's used to the effect she has on people, but in New Orleans, it's something else entirely. It wouldn't take him very long to figure out they weren't looking because she has a nice smile or she tosses her hair just right – they know who she is, and who she is matters to them.

They make it back to the compound just in time for Hope to wake up.

After Hope's post-lunch nap, they're on the floor in Hope's playroom, an old sheet spread out under them. Davina, in a stroke of brilliance, brought edible finger paints with her.

Hope's chubby little finger is just reaching out to smear pink paint across Elena's cheek when someone deftly plucks her from her place between them.

Davina and Hope both look up to see Elijah. He grins at his niece, deftly dodging her paint-covered fingers, immaculate in his suit, as ever.

"I think the activity was finger painting, Dear Hope, not body painting," he tells her congenially. "Hello Elena," he adds, glancing between the two girls as they scramble to their feet, "Davina."

"Elijah," Elena says, trying not to sound too relieved.

"I'll say this for her – she's fearless."

It's the only connection between Cassie and Elena that Sam sees. Sure, superficially they're both beautiful, but Elena is practically a supernatural tall tale unto herself. She goes with her gut and it leads her to victory, whereas Cassie is more interested in cold hard facts.

They're different enough that initially it gave Sam pause to think that Dean loved them both – but Cassie's clearly got guts, and that's something. Elena's all foolish bravery and cunning charm. Sam's starting to get the picture.

He picks up his jacket, moving over to where his brother is standing in front of the mirror of their motel room, Sam watches him carefully.

"Mhmm," is Dean's only response.

"Like Elena," he adds, watching his brother carefully.

His jaw tightens. He shakes his head. "Elena's not fearless, Sam." He looks annoyed with himself for taking the bait, but he continues, "She just never lets fear stop her."

Sam nods slowly. "Right."

He switches back to the topic of Cassie.

"Bet Cassie kicked your ass a couple of times."

Dean just looks at him.

Sam barrels on.

"What's interesting is that you guys never really look at each other at the same time."

He looks over at Dean, studying his face carefully. If it isn't over between Dean and Cassie, then someone's going to get hurt, and as much as Sam doesn't want it to be his brother, he's far more afraid of what will happen if it's Elena who gets hurt.

"You look at her when she's not looking. She checks you at when you look away."

Dean still only looks at him.

Sam hastens forward. "It's just an interesting observation in a, you know, observationally interesting way." He tries to fix his tie, wishing Elena were there, she always knew how to get it to sit straight. "I mean, you never stop looking at Elena. Most of the time you two are so caught up in some silent conversation, you barely have time to look at anyone but each other."

"You think we might have some more pressing issues here?" Dean asks, finally interrupting his rambling.

"Hey, if I'm hitting a nerve-"

"Oh, let it go. Elena went off to New Orleans to do whatever the hell she's doing, and Cassie and I are ancient history. Focus on the case, man."

"Will you just text Elena?" Sam asks straight out, no more beating around the bush. "She's not answering any of my texts and I'm worried about her."

Dean ignores him. "Let's go."

They head down to the docks to talk to some of Jimmy's friends.

One of his friends tells them a story about a big black truck and a string of death in the 60s, all black men.

Done with their questions, they start heading back to the car. Sam decides that Dean will go talk to Cassie about how all the deaths seem to be related to her family.

"You might want to mention that other thing."

Dean looks confused. "What other thing?"

"The serious unfinished business."

Dean stares at him, looking vaguely cornered.

Sam shakes his head, holding up a hand before he can speak.

"Look, I get that you're pissed at Elena for her disappearing act, but don't use this as an opportunity to hurt her, okay?"

"Sammy-" Dean starts, looking stubborn.

"Look, just text Elena, ask her where she is, when she's coming back, if Dad's there, ask her literally anything, and then go deal with your shit with Cassie."

Dean glares at him, but he whips out his phone and sends a text.

"Happy?" he asks Sam.

Without waiting for a reply, he gets in the driver's seat, driving away and leaving Sam there.

"That's super mature, Dean!" Sam calls after him. He pulls out his phone to call a cab.

"Have you been here long?"

Elijah and Elena are cleaning up Hope's playroom, both well aware that there is a house full of people more than willing to do the job for them.

Davina has Hope occupied with cartoons so they can have a moment of uninterrupted conversation.

Elena shakes her head. "Only since yesterday."

He nods. "And did you and Niklaus have time to speak before he left?"

She shakes her head again. "Nope, he just said he needed me to look after Hope for a while. He made it seem like you wouldn't be coming back for a while."

He gives her an indiscernible look. "Did he?"

She fixes him with a crystal-clear look of her own. "He did."

He nods slowly. His phone rings before either of them can say anything else.

"Forgive me," he says before stepping out of the room to take the phone call.

It's only a few moments later that Elena's phone chirps.

She looks at it, fully prepared to ignore another text from Sam, only to see that it's from Dean.

She sucks in a breath, barely hesitating before she opens it.

You good, Gilbert?

She hovers over the keyboard, contemplating a response. Before she can decide what to say, Elijah returns. She hastily shoves her phone back in her pocket, message unanswered.

After Hope's dinner and bath, Elena puts her to sleep. Humming Metallica is just as effective on Hope as it is on Dean.

Davina went home not too long after Elijah left mysteriously, so Elena is on her own for dinner and entertainment.

When Elijah gets back, they sit down to catch up over drinks.

As usual they carefully dodge any unsavory topics until Elena decides to be blunt.

"Elijah, where's Hayley?"

She knows she could've easily asked Davina, but something about Klaus' nonreaction to her question about Hayley made her feel uneasy.

He pauses, sets his drink down carefully.

"She and Niklaus had something of a disagreement."

Elena narrows her eyes at him.

"What happened?"

Hearing that Hayley is cursed to be a wolf except on the night of the full moon is something of a shock.

Elena controls her breathing carefully.

"And that's why you and Klaus are fighting?"

Elijah purses his mouth. "In part, yes."

She nods.

His phone rings again before she can reply. Once again, he leaves the room. At first, she contemplates the situation, worrying over Hayley and her pack, but because she's Elena, worrying quickly turns to planning, decisive action.

Elijah is gone long enough that Elena can't resist the urge any longer. She replies to Dean's message.

Elijah comes back. "Forgive me, I don't mean to keep running off, but there's another matter I must attend to tonight. I will be back in the morning, noon at the latest."

Elena nods.

"I was thinking I would take Hope to the park tomorrow," she says, tone carefully casual. "So, if we're not around, just call."

Elijah nods. "I think that's a wonderful idea." His voice is soft.

They both know where she's really taking Hope tomorrow.

By the time Dean finds the courage to knock on Cassie's door, it's already dark out. There's far too much on his mind for this conversation, but he made the choice to come here, to answer her call in the first place. There's no going back.

The only text he's received was from Sam, giving him shit for leaving him at the pier but he's not in the mood to apologize. He's pissed off at Sam for being so damn pushy and Elena for-

He's pissed at Cassie for dragging him here and the way things ended and Elena for not answering one damn text from Sam, so he'll stop being such a little bitch.

"Dean."

"Hey."

She steps back. "Come on in."

He follows her in.

"So, you busy?" he asks, hoping she'll say yes.

She starts telling him about Jimmy and his history with the paper. When his phone buzzes it's like a shock goes right through him.

"Uh, sorry," he mutters. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, there's a brief surge of adrenaline when he sees that the message is from Elena. He doesn't hesitate before opening it and hates himself just a little bit for it.

I'll be done in a few days.

He snorts. "Unbelievable."

She raises an eyebrow.

"Who is it?"

"Uh, my partner, Elena." She'd drag it out of him eventually anyway, and even if he doesn't want to talk about Elena, Sam is perfectly willing to give up the goods. He's always looking for an excuse to talk about Elena, and him. Him and Elena.

"Partner? So, she's another hunter?" Cassie looks intrigued.

"Yup," he says, hoping that will be the end of it, knowing it won't.

"So are you and her…" she trails off, looking at him meaningfully.

He smiles, shakes his head ruefully. "You know, if Elena was here, she'd laugh."

She looks taken aback. "Excuse me?"

He clarifies. "She always laughs when people ask that question. Apparently, the idea of me having a girlfriend is hilarious."

Cassie cocks her head to the side and narrows her eyes at him. "And you don't think it's funny when people think you're together."

He looks at her, a deer in the headlights. "Uh."

"If you get asked that enough for her to have a regular reaction, you probably get asked that a lot," she points out. "So how serious is it to you?"

He sighs heavily. "Elena is complicated and frustratingly secretive-"

She gives him an unmistakable look.

"Hey, don't give me that look, she makes me look a damn open book." The feeling rises again, frustration and worry warring inside him.

She gives him a knowing look, almost sympathetic. "Sounds like you've got it bad."

He takes a deep breath and tells the truth for once. "Her father was friends with my dad. When he died my dad took her in. He- well, as at odds as they can be with one another, my dad loves her like she's his own daughter, he'd never admit it, but he does. And she doesn't have anyone else looking out for her like that. I respect that."

She shakes her head. "Oh Dean, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

He gives her a dumbfounded look. "Excuse me?"

She crosses her arms, shrugs. "It sounds like an excuse to me."

"An excuse?" he disbelievingly asks.

She nods, unwilling to back down. "Telling the girl how you feel isn't going to ruin her relationship with your dad. You're just using it as an excuse, so you don't have to deal with your feelings or take a real chance."

He sputters incoherently for a moment.

"This is what you do, Dean," she tells him gently.

He narrows his eyes at her. "What I do?"

She nods. "You bail when things get too real. She's your partner so you can't literally bail on her, so you just don't go there."

Somehow they end up arguing about them and their failed relationship; at some point they stop arguing.

Elena's never been very good at sleeping alone. The room Klaus has set aside for her during her visits is gorgeous and well-furnished with a bed like a fluffy white cloud, but that doesn't make her feel less alone or less afraid of what she'll see when she closes her eyes.

She's the best at knowing how to help Sam with his nightmares because all she ever has are nightmares. It's her greatest hits of trauma on repeat: the crash that killed her parents, the sacrifice, losing Jenna and John, almost losing Jeremy, and the crash that finally took her away from her home; that final, crushing loss.

Dean likes to say that Elena runs on caffeine and a runner's high but that's far from the truth. Elena runs on survivor's guilt and the paranoia of a true runner. Of course she's always running, it's the only thing that ever makes her feel like she has control anymore.

It's barely after midnight and she's up in her room. She's already checked on Hope so there's nothing left for her to do except sleep. She never wants to sleep. The closest she ever gets to restful sleep is knowing that Dean will be there when she wakes up from that inevitable nightmare. For a moment, the temptation to call Dean is overwhelming, but she manages to resist.

They used to talk on the phone nearly every day when she was still in Mystic Falls. It started with him calling her to wish her a happy birthday, and then it just continued. Soon she found herself calling him every time her friends ignored her, or Damon just had to push her boundaries. When Stefan betrayed her most traumatic moment, when she had a long day at school, when Bonnie didn't even want to see her, Dean always picked up the phone.

She knows he'd answer if she called. She also knows he'd want an explanation that she can't give him.

Admittedly, this isn't Dean's best moment. Sneaking out of one girl's bed to text another. It's a little after two in the morning and he can't fall asleep because he doesn't know if Elena's okay; it's driving him crazy.

He's worried about her; he's always worried about her. They left her alone in Mystic Falls and by the time they got back they were retrieving her from a hospital and more unspeakable trauma. Just because he doesn't know all of the details, doesn't mean Dean doesn't know that Elena's life has been difficult in a way that's not exactly covered in grief and trauma counselling. He's held her after enough nightmares, talked her through enough panic attacks to know she'll always be scarred by her past.

She's his best friend, his partner, and she's gone A.W.O.L., of course he's worried.

At the same time, he can't ignore what Sam heard on the phone that night. He can't stop obsessing about Elena being in New Orleans with his dad and not telling him. He wants to believe she'd tell him if John was there, but she hasn't called once. And she keeps secrets. Monumental secrets. She tells him all the time that they're only about her but that doesn't seem to sooth his worries this time. Worry quickly turned to anger.

Why isn't he good enough to be let in on the big secrets? Why can't she just tell him when she says she wants to? Why did his dad call her in the middle of the night and why did that make her leave without a word?

He's fed up, sick to death of being on the outside of their relationship. Fed up of being on the outside of Elena. Sure, he knows her better than most people, can read her face like a car manual, but she never tears down that final wall.

He gets to see behind the porcelain mask, knows how completely bored and uninterested she is when she flirts for information and free drinks and power. Behind all of that is complicated, brilliant, hilarious girl who is probably the best hunter he's ever seen. She never backs down from a challenge, be it a water wraith or kamikaze shots. She loves her brother with a fierceness honed into a blade by loss. She understands Dean better than anyone, and she accepts him the way he is. He could spend the rest of his life watching her put on a show and that would be enough – he'll always tell himself that would be enough.

He's seen her crying and laughing and terrified out of her mind. He's seen her twist men and women around her fingers like costume jewelry for nights of revelry that she has no use for in the morning even as she stays wrapped around their hearts long after she has forgotten them. He's seen her charm a room without paying any attention to anyone in it except him.

He doesn't know where her tears come from. He doesn't know why she's terrified. He can't tell you how she got the scars on her neck or why she looks twice over her shoulder everywhere they go.

She's always holding him back, holding him off, and he lets her. He doesn't know if he's angrier that she does it or that he lets her. Right now, he doesn't know if he's mad at her or if he's mad at himself.

He doesn't know if she's okay, and he can't sleep until he knows.

Elena starts her day with a run that takes her through every commercial part of the city where she's the least likely to run into anyone who cares who she is.

She woke up to two texts from Dean.

That's not what I asked, Gilbert.

Answer the damn question.

She twists and turns through streets contemplating the original question. Is she good? No, not really. She's never good, though. Babysitting Hope has a slightly lower mortality rate than hunting, so nothing about her situation is inherently more dangerous than their usual everyday activities. She's on edge, like she always is in this city, like she always is waiting for Klaus' next demand.

Most of all, she misses Dean like she misses a limb. She's so used to him being there, sarcastic and gorgeous and completely captivating. But most of all she misses his steadiness. Even when she has to dodge and weave and avoid all the secrets and feelings she wants to pour into him like she used to pour into her diary, he is still there. He is solid and real and warm and always willing to hold her until her shaking subsides.

Eventually she hits her stride and the buzz is so good her mind goes blissfully blank. Back at the compound Hope cheerfully demands cuddles and breakfast and Elena is happy to oblige.

After breakfast Elena dresses Hope in her cutest dress and texts Dean back.

She kisses Hope on the cheek, handing her the pink bunny she gave to her.

"Can you say Sammy, baby?" Elena asks, cooing at the bouncing hybrid on her hip.

Hope looks at her inquisitively, eyes piercingly sharp like her father's. She points at the bunny.

Elena nods. "Sammy," she says, tapping the bunny on its velveteen nose.

Hope giggles. "Ham," she replies triumphantly.

Elena laughs. "Close enough." She kisses her other cheek. "C'mon sweet girl, let's go see your mama."

The morning after should be awkward or easy, it is neither. For some reason, without a word exchanged, they have come to an agreement.

It's not awkward because neither of them are ashamed, nor is it easy because they both know it's done. They needed closure and they had it, physically.

"You know, when you told me that story, I thought you were nuts, dangerous even," Cassie says contemplatively, because there's still this left to say.

"Yeah, well, I guess I can't blame you."

"How did it go when you told Elena?" she asks.

He shakes his head. "I never had to; she was already in the thick of it. Her family's hunted for a long time. It's her legacy, they pass down journals full of their family history of it. They're pretty much hunting royalty."

Cassie looks fascinated. "She sounds like a very interesting person."

Dean shrugs, non-committal, unwilling to take the bait. A large part of him feels like she knows too much already. He can tell her basic facts about Elena, the thought of anything deeper makes his skin crawl.

"Why is she unbelievable?" she asks.

He raises an eyebrow at her.

"Last night, when she texted back, you called her unbelievable."

He snorts, remembering Elena's vague reply.

She cocks her head to the side.

"You're mad at her," she says, realizing it even as she says it. "What happened?"

He shrugs. "She's just a frustrating person."

She smirks at him. "Is that how you like your women then, frustrating?"

He glares back at her, unamused.

"With Elena, there's a lot of show, she can twist people up so tight they don't remember anything except her. And she can do it just because she's bored or wants attention or even when we actually need something from them – I'll admit, that's useful.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm getting the real picture, the real her. But she's so good at hiding, at changing the surface so no one looks deeper, so good at deflecting and shutting down, that it's just…hard to feel like I really know her. It sucks. She's my best friend. I want to think I know who she is and that I can count on her. I want to believe that my faith in her isn't baseless, but the truth is, I don't really know."

Cassie is practically gaping at him, so surprised at his honest and lengthy answer.

"She sounds complicated," she says finally.

"She is," he replies grimly.

He's about to leave when his phone rings with a call from Sam about the latest victim.

When he gets there Sam is tense. "Where were you last night?"

Dean doesn't answer.

Sam persists. "You didn't make it back to the motel."

"Nope," Dean says shortly.

"I told you not to use Cassie to hurt Elena," Sam replies sharply.

Dean side-eyes Sam.

"This isn't about Elena."

Sam snorts in disbelief, shaking his head. "Dean, with you, everything is about Elena." He adds, "And it's not fair to Cassie to string her along when we all know you're obsessed with Elena."

"I am not obsessed with Elena," Dean says through clenched teeth. "And I am not stringing Cassie along. End of story, Sam. Butt out."

Sam can't help it, he's angry. He's confused and hurt by Elena's disappearing act, but he knows it's nothing compared to how Dean must feel. But that doesn't excuse rekindling an old flame when Dean is so clearly crazy about Elena. He wants to keep talking about this, but he knows his brother, and he knows they have more pressing matters.

"Did Elena ever answer your text?" Sam asks.

Dean nods. "Yeah, she said she'd be back in a few days, just like her note."

Sam frowns. "That's all?"

"Pretty much," Dean says, clearly deflecting.

Elena had replied on his drive over from Cassie's. He read it just before getting out of the car to meet Sam.

I will be.

He doesn't really want to think about what it means because he's sick to death of trying to figure out all of her mysteries and vague answers.

Elijah is home by the time Elena and Hope make it back to the compound. Without a word, he helps Elena carry in Hope's birthday presents from the pack.

Elena puts on Tangled for Hope and she happily settles in to watch, leaning against Elena's side.

Elijah looks odd perched on a chair, more intent on watching his niece than the movie. Seeing she is fully absorbed in the fairytale; Elijah broaches the subject of their day trip.

"Was it a satisfactory visit?" He keeps his voice low and calm to avoid catching Hope's attention or upsetting her.

Elena gives him a lot.

"Not quite," she replies honestly.

He looks at her, pained, waiting for more.

"They got to see each other, but it's not the same, it's not enough, we both know that."

He nods painfully.

"And how did she seem?" he asks carefully.

"Hayley?" Elena responds, asking for clarification.

He nods.

"Furry," she says shortly.

He can't quite hide his flinch.

"Someone needs to take Hope back next full moon," Elena says as neutrally as she can.

Elijah nods in sincere agreement.

"Yes, I will see to it."

After Hope's dinner Elena reads to her until she falls asleep. After, she sits in the dark room, watching the rise and fall of her tiny chest, arm wrapped around Ham, hand fisted in her new quilt.

She can't quite explain the pain in her chest, knowing that Hayley isn't the one sitting here instead of her. Especially knowing how badly Hayley wishes it was her, not Elena, tucking her daughter in and reading her a bedtime story. Watching her sleep and marveling at how beautiful and perfect her baby is.

Elena doesn't know when she started crying; she leaves quickly to avoid waking Hope up.

She's wiping away her tears in the hallway when her phone rings. Seeing Klaus' name on the caller ID is almost a relief.

A short conversation and then she's heading back downstairs, knowing Elijah will be waiting for her with booze.

She tells him that Klaus will back the next day. Elijah never loses the slightly wary look in his eyes when he looks at her now.

She knows it can't be the hunter thing – sure, everyone else might be on edge about it, but Elijah is an original, they're practically indestructible. One hunter isn't enough to unnerve him.

She knows it must be that last night in Mystic Falls when she lost it so completely, she even scared herself. She's wondering if she should broach the subject with him when Rebekah waltzes in and plucks Elijah's drink right out of his hand.

Collapsing into a chair, she raises the glass in greeting, "Cheers, Elijah. Elena, lovely to see you." She downs Elijah's drink.

"Rebekah, how wonderful of you to make an appearance, would you like a drink?"

"That would be lovely, Dear Elijah," Rebekah says, ignoring his sardonic tone.

Elena only looks at her, never at peace in her presence.

Rebekah, as always, tries. "Elena, when did you get here?"

"A few days ago, Klaus called. He asked me to watch Hope." Elena's answer is succinct, complete, not the least bit friendly.

Rebekah nods, ignoring Elena's shortness. "And where is my brother? When will he be back?"

Elena shrugs. "He said something about Alabama and werewolves. He'll be back tomorrow."

Rebekah nods.

She looks ready to speak again, so Elena stands.

"Excuse me, I'm going to bed. It's been a long day."

Rebekah and Elijah say goodnight, watching her go.

There's guilt in Rebekah's eyes, as there always is when she's looking at Elena.

"She'll never forgive me, will she?"

Elijah looks at his baby sister. The guilt of her actions has changed her. He doesn't think any of them will forget that last night in Mystic Falls, none of them have returned since she left. Elena Gilbert changed them all that night, forever and always.

"I do not know, Rebekah. All you can do is keep trying. I believe your sincere remorse means something to her, but she is not the most forthcoming of women."

He looks at the door again.

"Not anymore."

Elena doesn't hate Rebekah. She just can't look at her without remembering. Every time she sees her it's like seeing double. She sees the girl in front of her, and she sees her in headlights, 3 years ago, staring them down with no remorse on her face.

In her room, Elena kicks off her shoes, climbing into bed, pulling the blankets over her head.

She focuses on her breathing, distantly aware she's on the verge of a panic attack. She fumbles for her phone. Opening her contacts her thumb hovers over Dean's number. A breath and her thumb is descending against her will. She doesn't hang up, presses her phone to her ear, holds her breath and lets it ring. He doesn't answer.

She feels a surge of something – disappointment, frustration, longing – and then she's flinging the covers off, sitting up and throwing her phone across the room. It lands on a chair, unharmed.

She practically vaults herself off the bed, shimmying out of her jeans before she even finds her running shorts.

Elena runs until the sun comes up.

They finally get somewhere when the truck tries to drive straight through Cassie's house.

After she calls Dean and the truck takes off, her mother finally tells them about the night Cyrus Dorian went missing – the night he died. How his car had been linked to a string of hate crimes, and how it had ended in one violent confrontation two men.

In the middle of this long-awaited explanation, Dean gets a phone call.

All it takes is one look at Dean's face for Sam to know who it is. But Mrs. Robinson is opening up to them for the first time since they got here, and she's the only one who can give them some clarity on the case. Dean ignores the call. They keep listening.

Martin had called on his friends to hide what he'd had to out of survival. The young Deputy Todd had figured out their actions and covered them. And now all of these later they had paid for it. Now the malevolent spirit wanted Cassie and her mother.

Sam and Dean are waiting outside the house for Cassie. Dean calls Elena for the third time.

"She's not answering," he says flatly.

"Maybe she's sleeping," says Sam.

Dean gives him a disbelieving look.

He calls again but she still doesn't pick up. Finally, he gives up.

"My life used to be so simple," Sam marvels.

Dean looks over at him.

"Just school, exams, papers on polycentric cultural norms."

Dean snorts. "So, I guess I saved you from a boring existence."

"Occasionally, I miss boring."

Dean looks at him like he's the strangest thing he's ever seen.

Sam shrugs. "I never had to worry if my college friends were being held hostage by some monster and just playing it cool."

Dean nods. "Or hanging out with your dad behind your back."

Sam starts to laugh, unable to help himself.

"Yeah, or that."

Dean sighs. "So, this killer truck-"

Sam cuts him off. "I miss conversations that don't start with 'this killer truck.'"

Dean rolls his eyes but amends his statement. "So, this Cyrus guy…"

He keeps talking about the case, and Sam tries to pay attention, but really, he's thinking about Elena, and what exactly should be said when – if – she comes back.

He's trying to figure out if he has some sort of obligation to tell her about Dean and Cassie when Cassie herself comes out to talk to them before they head out to the swamp to drag up the killer truck.

Cassie is saying something, only Sam misses it, so his next words definitely sound rude.

"God, I miss Elena."

They both look at him, Dean clearly offended, Cassie mostly bemused.

Sam back tracks. "I'm sorry, I heard basically nothing anyone just said. I was just thinking if Elena was here, she'd have like six monster truck rally jokes-"

Cassie looks mildly alarmed.

Dean clears his throat. "Yeah, Elena has a uh, wild sense of humor."

Sam grins, laughing already. "Remember when she named all of those skulls Yorick, Yorick Junior, Yorick III, and so on?"

Dean snorts against his will.

"What about when she said that thing about urban legends?" Dean can't help himself, Elena's sense of humor always gets him.

Sam nods eagerly, chuckling at the memory.

"Yeah, 'some are born urban legends, some become urban legends-"

"-And some physically alter their bodies in order to achieve the honor,'" Dean finishes for him, almost smiling.

Cassie is looking at them like they're slightly deranged, but she's clearly amused.

"She sounds fun," she says.

The fond look on Dean's face fades slowly. "Yeah, she is," he says almost wistfully and it's the closest Sam has seen him get to admitting that he misses her.

Dean clears his throat, diving back into the case without giving anyone a chance to mention Elena again.

Sam finds Cassie's reaction to them reminiscing about Elena's jokes interesting. She didn't seem jealous at all, just curious. Sam wonders what Dean has said about Elena to her.

Early the next morning after all the excitement is over, Sam wakes up to a text from Elena.

I'm done. Where are you guys?

Cape Girardeau, Missouri

That's where Cassie's from.

Dean told you about her?

Yea. I'll be there tonight. g2g

Sam blinks at the abrupt end to their conversation. He wonders what possessed Dean to tell Elena about Cassie. Slightly annoyed, he throws a pillow at his sleeping brother.

"The hell, Sam?" Dean slurs, opening one bleary eye.

Sam doesn't waste any time. "Elena says she's done. She'll be here tonight."

Dean sits up, alert and awake. "Elena called?"

Sam shakes his head. "She texted me."

Dean narrows his eyes. "She texted you?"

Sam nods. "Yeah, and she knew why we were here as soon as I told her we were in Cape Girardeau."

Dean's eyes widen slightly.

"Why the hell would you tell Elena about your ex-girlfriend?" Sam can't seem to reel in how accusatory he sounds.

Dean shrugs like it's no big deal. "We talk about everything." He shakes his head, getting out of bed to find his phone. "You should hear the stories I know about her ex." He shudders lightly. "Let me tell you, that guy was a piece of work."

"So, Elena only has one big ex?" Sam asks, always ready to fish for more information about her.

Dean shakes his head. "No, two, but they're big for different reasons."

Finally finding his phone, he calls Elena immediately.

Sam looks down at his phone, their short exchange doesn't leave a lot of room for subtext or clues about where she is, but he still looks.

"Her phone's off."

Sam looks up, surprised.

Dean is staring at his phone like it's the strangest thing he's ever seen.

"She texted me not even 5 minutes ago," Sam says flatly.

Dean doesn't even seem to hear him. "She never turns her phone off."

There's an arduous breakfast with Klaus and his siblings that Elena is numb through. Eventually Hope is taken to her playroom by Rebekah and Elena is led away for a private chat with Klaus. She does her best to mentally prepare herself, but her mind is miles away – five hundred and sixty-seven point three miles to be exact.

"So, sweetheart, shall we begin?"

And like closing a door, Dean Winchester and Cassie Robinson vanish from her mind. They don't mean a thing to Elena, not now. What matter is survival. What matters is not disappointing John Winchester or putting anyone she cares about in needless danger.

"I appreciate what you've done for me."

Klaus nods, looking as magnanimous as the devil. "Well, sweetheart, you can ask me for anything, within reason of course."

She keeps her tone neutral. "And my requests weren't reasonable?"

He shakes his head. "No, I suppose they were. I mean, what's compelling away evidence and a private plane ride in the grand scheme of my existence?"

She leans forward. "Evidence that pointed to an innocent man. Maybe that doesn't mean anything to you, but I don't think someone should go to jail because a shapeshifter got off on murdering women as their loved ones and happened to pick his girlfriend, his face."

Klaus stiffens slightly at her subtle smear against his honor, it's exactly what Elijah would point out and Elena knows it.

"Yes well, I suppose I must concede on that one. But the plane ride."

She shakes her head. "You know where I was going."

"Yes, to your dearest, Dean." Klaus barely manages not to sneer. "How is he?"

"He's not my dearest, he's my partner," she says, not skipping a beat. Moments like this, that's all he is, all he can afford to be. "And he's better now."

Klaus nods. "And aren't you glad you got back to him so quickly? I'd say you owe me a personal debt."

Elena's reply is quick.

"And doesn't taking care of your daughter cancel out that debt?"

She appeals to his paternal side. "Wasn't that a personal favor? You know I'd never let anything happen to her and you trusted me to care for her. So why do I still owe you?"

He sighs heavily. "You don't," he admits.

She raises an eyebrow.

"I rather think it's time to reopen negotiations between the two of us, Sweetheart. The terms have remained stagnant for far too long. I've let you live despite the problem it causes for me, you've kept John Winchester from using the white oak stake against my family, but I rather think we're unevenly matched here. I hardly see you, darling. You spend so much time traipsing about the country playing heroes with your Winchesters. You risk your life like it means nothing to you."

She narrows her eyes. "Doesn't it?" she asks softly.

He flinches.

They both know how ready she is to make the ultimate sacrifice. He never forgets she was his willing victim, once. He never forgets that last night in Mystic Falls, either.

"I think you're underestimating what I do for you. I've been playing a very long game of cat and mouse. My running around the country keeps him occupied and unable to go after you without worrying about me."

His face morphs in irritation, hers stays as smooth as glass. She has an advantage, but she knows better than to use it. Using it would put certain people in Klaus' sightline, and she prefers to avoid that.

"But, why not? Let's renegotiate. What do you want from me, Klaus?"

"I suppose this as close as we will ever get to an evenly compromised agreement." Klaus' tone is sour.

Elena nods serenely. "Yes, I agree." She gave more than she wanted to, but she can live with it.

"Well, the nurse is waiting for you in the sitting room."

Elena makes a face.

"We wouldn't want anything to happen to any of your Winchesters, now would we?"

There is no fear in Elena's eyes when she nods, but it's in her heart.

Klaus steps closer. "I certainly hope you aren't too attached to them. When this is over, I expect you to keep your promises."

"I always do," she says hollowly.

"Good. It really is for the best, Sweetheart. Dean Winchester is far too prone to heroics to be of any used to you."

She just looks at him.

He brushes her hair over her shoulder, fingers sliding down her throat, tracing the scars he left on her. She doesn't flinch when he bows his head to press his mouth to them, her heart barely stutters, her breathing stays even, calm. He will always be drawn to the place where he marked her. Idly she thinks of all of the monsters who've been drawn to it before. She wonders if there's some instinctual knowing that draws them to it; a proverbial 'Klaus Mikaelson was here' knitted into her skin that marks her as his willing victim, his resurrection. He pulls away from her reluctantly.

"Say goodbye to Hope before you go."

Elena says goodbye to the cheerful toddler who gives her many smacking kisses, unaware that Mylena is leaving.

Elena heads to her room to get her bags and do a bit of last minute packing.

Her closet in New Orleans is never empty. She rarely bothers opening the door let alone wearing the clothes, but everyone seems to enjoy shopping for her, so there's something new every time she visits.

It's easy to tell who bought what, the eye-catching red dress could only be from Marcel, Klaus favors dramatic silhouettes that fit like a glove, and Rebekah is the best at buying what looks like something Elena would actually wear, but it's always a bit off.

The cut-offs are artfully torn, ignorant of the fact that Elena hacked up her own beloved pair of jeans to make hers after a manticore destroyed them. The plaid flannels are pre-softened boyfriend fits that will never smell like Dean Winchester or remind her of how his eyes can change from crisp apple green to liquid gold to indigo depending on the time of day and the lighting, how he's feeling, which shirt he's wearing.

Davina is the wildcard, picking based off artistic instinct more than anything else. So when Elena opens the closet for the first time since she got there, she knows she won't be Marcel's siren or Klaus' arm candy, or the artificial version of herself Rebekah sees, but she's perfectly willing to be Davina's wildcard masterpiece.

Marcel leans in her doorway, watching her zip up her bag.

"Hey, you ready? I told Klaus you don't need some stuffy old driver when you've got me."

"Sure, let's go."

"I like him, you know."

Elena looks over at Marcel in the driver's seat.

"Dean, he's a good guy."

She raises an eyebrow at him. "So, you finally tracked him down when he was here in October." She doesn't sound surprised.

He shrugs. "We're all curious."

"You know if John thinks you're stalking his son nothing on this earth will be able to save you. He'd burn the whole city down before you could blink."

Marcel chuckles, shaking his head.

"I know, Papa Winchester ain't someone to fuck with. I wasn't stalking him."

Elena narrows her eyes at him. "Klaus didn't send you?"

Marcel raises one hand to God. "It really was a coincidence. He didn't even know who I was. Just a short conversation. It was enough to see what you see in him."

Elena shakes her head. "Don't go there, Marcel."

He shrugs. "I'm just saying, I see it."

"Stop looking."

He takes a deep breath and she knows it's coming.

"Elena, I could make this a lot easier for you, if you just let me."

She looks at him. He divides his attention effortlessly between her and the road.

"You don't need to be at his beck and call, I can help you, if you just let me."

She shakes her head. "Marcel, you're wasting your time, I don't have it."

He looks at her in disbelief.

"I know for a fact you do."

She shrugs. "And I'm telling you the truth. I don't have it."

"This is The Library?" Sam asks, staring at the exterior of the building, Dean beside him.

Cassie nods. "I told you, it's a bar." As soon as she found out they were meeting up with Elena, she'd insisted on coming, curious about Dean's partner.

…The sun is setting like molasses in the sky…

No one is paying attention to them when they enter the bar. Sultry rock music pours through the sound system, and all eyes are on the lone figure dancing.

…always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for…

"This place is packed, how are we gonna find her?" Cassie asks.

…black velvet with that slow, southern style…

"Found her," Dean and Sam say in unison.

…a new religion that'll bring you to your knees…

Cassie points to the dancing girl. "Her?"

…black velvet, if you please…

Dean nods, never taking his eyes off her.

…the music's like a heat wave…

"Oh, you poor, poor sucker."

…white lightnin', bound to drive you wild…

Sam has much better control over his faculties, he manages a glance around at the captivated bar patrons, a look at Dean's dumbstruck face and Cassie's shocked one before his eyes drift back to Elena.

...the way he moved; it was a sin…

She's wearing clothes he's never seen her in, a floaty black skirt that flits scandalously high with every roll of her hips. Her shirt is dark red, some shiny fabric that slips up her stomach, baring her hips, straps slipping down her shoulders, baring more skin.

…a new religion that'll bring you to your knees…

She's lost in the song, but it wouldn't be right to say she's unaware of being watched. Elena knows people are always looking at her. She's equally good at taking advantage of it and ignoring it; this is the first time Sam has ever seen Elena revel in it.

…every word of every song that he sang was for you…

Suddenly he understands that she holds an absolutely dizzying amounts of power over people. He's seen her use it for a case, for fun, for free drinks, even when she's bored. He's never seen her use it just because she wants to be looked at.

…what could you do?

She wants them to look, so they look. They can't take their eyes off her, and she relishes in it. It feeds her, every roll of her hip, every turn, every hair toss, arms rising above her head, sliding down her throat, slipping into her hair; the bend of her knee to deepen her sway, it's all fueled by their attention. Her eyes are closed because she is absolutely certain of their adoration. She's free to lose herself in the music because they'd follow her anywhere, without ever knowing her name, without ever knowing why.

…black velvet, with that slow, southern style…

A lone man, full of foolish bravery and something else, breaks away from the crowd, heading right for her. Sliding an arm around her waist, he brings her flush against him, matching her rhythm with surprising ease, and Sam braces for impact. He's seen her break bones over less. Instead, Elena rolls her hips backward into him, tossing her hair over his shoulder to smile at him, opening her eyes.

…black velvet, if you please…

Sam risks a glance at his brother. Dean's face is stone.

…a new religion that'll bring you to your knees…

The man's fingers run up the inside of Elena's thigh, following her manticore scar like an arrow.

…black velvet, if you please…

Sam can practically hear Dean's teeth shatter as he grits his teeth tighter.

…if you please…

Elena flips her hair again turning it into a spin that brings her chest to chest with her partner. They finish out the song together.

…if you please

Sultry South bleeds into another classic rock song, but Elena doesn't keep dancing, so the spell is broken. Her dance partner dips his head down to whisper something in her ear. The smile that grows on her face is unlike anything Sam has ever seen. He's not sure if he's ever known this girl.

"That's it," Dean says, finally cracking. He pushes his way through the crowd, making his way towards Elena.

Sam hurries after him quickly, hoping he can prevent any potential showdown. He barely realizes that Cassie is following him.

The guy is trying to introduce himself when they get there. "My name is-"

Dean cuts him off quickly. "She doesn't care, go away."

The guy looks over at Dean in confusion, but Elena doesn't even acknowledge his existence. Sam has to wonder if she's known all along that he was there.

"Uh, is this your-"

"My brothers?" This time it's Elena who cuts him off. "Yes, they are."

Dean stares at Elena like she's grown a second head.

"I am not her brother." He sounds horrified.

Elena smiles sweetly at the guy, still ignoring Dean.

"I'm sorry, it was really fun dancing with you, but I guess I have to explain basic genetics to him. He was dropped on his head one too many times as baby."

The guy nods, looking bemused but still interested. "Yeah, you're a great dancer. See you around."

Only after he's gone does Elena finally look at Dean. There's no expression on her face.

"Your brothers?" He can't seem to comprehend that she actually said it.

She shrugs. "Well I wasn't gonna tell him you're my boyfriend; and no one ever seems to believe the truth." She pauses as if to consider her options. "I guess I could've said you were my stalker." She shakes her head. "That seems a little too cruel."

Dean squints at her, trying to figure out her game. "You always say I'm your boyfriend to get guys to stop flirting with you."

She stares back at him. "I didn't want him to stop."

He inhales quickly twice quickly; Sam can't hear the sound, but he can see the twitch of his shoulders.

"Where the hell have you been?" Dean asks, switching topics abruptly.

Elena cocks her head to the side, looking confused. "New Orleans," she says it like it isn't something she tried to hide from them.

Dean shakes his head in disbelief. "What the hell were you doing there?"

"Babysitting," she replies flatly.

He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, now is definitely the time for jokes," he says sarcastically.

Elena shrugs like she doesn't understand why he's pissed.

"Sam heard you on the phone with our dad."

She nods. "Yeah, I thought so. John called me."

Dean squints at her again. "Was that the first time he's called you? Don't you dare lie to me, Elena."

Her face turns glacial. "Yes, that was our only conversation since our chat before that scarecrow tried to skin us."

Cassie is watching them volley off responses that are bordering on incoherent to an outsider like her.

"Was he there, in New Orleans?" Sam asks, jumping in easily.

Elena looks at Sam for the first time. She shakes her head. "John was just the messenger."

"For who?" Sam asks.

She smiles. "The Big Bad Wolf." Her tone is saccharine. "Little Red was getting a bit too toothy for his taste." She adds, "John hasn't been in New Orleans since last summer, I asked."

Sam can't help but roll his eyes. This entire time he's been missing her sense of humor, but he forgot how frustrating it is when she makes jokes instead of telling the truth.

"What did the Big Bad Wolf want?" He asks dryly, wondering if this is the punchline.

"I already told you," Elena enunciates sweetly. "A babysitter, even the Big Bad Wolf needs someone to look out for his cub from to time."

Before Sam can respond, Elena switches topics.

"Now, I believe I owe you an apology for missing your birthday."

Sam is caught off guard and Dean looks guilty, only just realizing that Sam's birthday was the day Elena disappeared.

Sam shrugs. "It's not a big deal, Elena."

She shakes her head. "Absolutely not, it is so a big deal." She raises her hand, snaps her fingers, which grabs the attention of the bartender. She nods at him and he nods back, turning to gesture at someone out of Sam's line of sight.

Suddenly one of the waitresses is walking towards them holding a cake with lit candles and the entire bar is singing Happy Birthday.

In between every "Happy" and "Birthday" someone shouts "Belated!" with exuberance.

The waitress gives Sam an extra sweet smile as she tells him to blow out the candles.

"Elena, you didn't have to," Sam says somewhat helplessly.

She shakes her head. "Sam, blow out your candles before the wax starts to drip onto your cake."

Sam has no choice but to obey.

"This is the best cake I've ever had in my life," Cassie says, completely enamored by the chocolate coconut cake.

Dean isn't listening, his attention is on Elena, seated on the bar flirting with the bartender, uncaring of high her skirt has risen, or the way eyes from every corner of the bar linger on her bared skin. She tosses her hair and laughs; the bartender looks like he just won the lottery.

"What I can't figure out is how she had the time to do this," Sam says, on his second piece of cake. "She didn't even know where we were when she texted me this morning."

Cassie shrugs. "The internet is a powerful thing." She takes another bite and moans. "I think I'm in love."

"With the cake or Elena?" Sam asks.

She shrugs. "Both, probably."

Dean has barely started on his first piece, far more interested in glaring at everyone who dares to flirt with Elena. So many people to glare at, so little time to eat cake.

"The question is, did she get the cake here, or did she bring it from New Orleans?" Cassie is definitely enamored with the cake. "Because if it's from New Orleans, I have to move."

"Into the cake shop?" Sam guesses.

She nods with complete seriousness.

Elena slides off the bar with ease. The entire bar watches her skip over to their table.

"C'mon Sam, it's time for birthday shots!"

He shakes his head. "Noooo, no shots. Just more cake."

Cassie interrupts. "Hi, I'm Cassie, and I need to know where you got this cake, it's very important."

Elena smiles at her and as far as Sam can tell it's completely real.

"I'm Elena, and I got it from that bakery around the corner, Made Marianne's?"

Cassie blinks in surprise. "But Marianne is horrible."

Elena stares at her, taken aback.

Cassie hastens to explain. "The lady who owns that place is like two hundred and so cranky, no one I've ever met has made it through an order to actually try anything there."

"Actually, she just turned 90," Elena says. "And she was really nice when I talked to her on the phone earlier. She even recommended this cake specifically, she said it was her best."

Cassie stares at her in amazement. "But she hates everyone."

Elena shrugs. "She was perfectly nice to me."

"When did you get here?" Dean asks, interrupting their conversation.

"A little after 4." She answers honestly. "I had to get the cake and talk to the staff here first."

Before he can say anything else, Elena turns back to Sam. "You are doing at least one round of shots with me, Sam, no buts."

Sam sighs, but sets down his fork and follows her to the bar.

"I really like her," Cassie says.

Dean glares back at her.

"So, are you going to the rest of your cake or?"

He glares harder.

She rolls her eyes. "Fine, be a sourpuss, or you know, go talk to the girl."

"I just did."

She shakes her head. "No, you interrogated her. That's all you've done since she got here."

"She took off without a word and I'm just supposed totally fine that she never explained where she was going or what she was doing there?"

Cassie looks puzzled. "Didn't she say she was babysitting? I mean, leaving without a word is a little weird but maybe her friend was having an emergency."

Dean shakes his head. "You don't know her, that shit about babysitting and the Big Bad Wolf is just her twisted sense of humor."

She looks doubtful. "I mean I guess I understand how the Big Bad Wolf bit was a joke, but what's funny about babysitting?"

Dean huffs. "Trying to figure out Elena logic is impossible."

She shrugs, over his attitude. "Whatever, if you don't wanna talk to her, that's your shit. Now, if you're not gonna let me have your cake, I'm gonna go do shots with Sam and Elena."

She cocks her head to the side. "I wonder who's paying for all of this? I haven't seen Elena pay for a drink even once." She shrugs again. "Maybe she opened a tab."

Dean snorts. "Elena has never paid for a drink in her life." He can't resist adding. "She's not even legal."

Cassie looks surprised, so he amends his statement.

"Her birthday's next month, but still. She's been drinking for free without getting carded since she was like 15."

"She tell you that?" she asks, genuinely curious.

"'If you have great hair and a killer smile, they'll tell themselves you're 25.'" He glances over at her. "That's a direct quote. She was 18 when she told me that."

Cassie's eyes are wide. Sure, it's not like she waited until she was 21 for her first drink, but she was at least in college by the time she started hitting bars and clubs, and she did have to use a fake ID. A lowcut blouse and a flirty smile could get a bouncer or a bartender to overlook any obvious flaws in the fake, but she still had to go through the motions. It sounds like something out of a movie, but Elena has an undeniable effect on people. Her little show earlier was more than enough proof for Cassie.

"She is one of a kind," Cassie says, meaning every word. She finds Elena fascinating, and even after only one night, she sees what Dean sees in her. Hell, after her dance she saw it.

"According to her that's not true. Apparently, she has an evil doppelganger."

Cassie's eyebrow raises.

"Another one of her jokes."

"Well, I'm gonna go have a drink with the girl of your dreams since you're too chicken shit to do it yourself."

She leaves before Dean can deny it.

Sam is pretty drunk when he finally makes it back to Dean's table. He sits down next to Dean.

"Are they flirting?" Dean asks, looking genuinely bewildered.

Sam looks over at Elena and Cassie who are still at the bar.

Elena tosses her hair and grins.

"Huh," says Sam.

Cassie leans in to say something directly into Elena's ear.

"Yeah, they'rrre flirting."

Dean shakes his head. "Unbelievable."

Sam shrugs. "Knowing Elena, it'ss prolly for fun." Absentmindedly adds, "Cassie's prolly fucking with you though."

Dean finally looks over at him. "You are drunk."

Sam nods. "We did wayyyyyyyyyy more than one round of shots." He squints at the overhead lights, watching them dance and twinkle in fascination. "A surplus of shots. A mountain, a lake, alllll the shots."

Dean snorts in amusement, shaking his head at his brother fondly.

"Listen man, I'm sorry I forgot about your birthday."

Sam shakes his head. "Man, I didn't even want to celibatrate this year." He sobers up a bit at the memory. "Jess always planned a finals birthday party for me. I kinda just wanted to ignore it." He smiles sloppily. "This is a good party though." His smile turns dreamy. "And that was great cake. Elena's the best."

Sam closes his eyes, drifting contentedly away from his grief and into memories of the cake of his dreams.

Dean nods. "Yeah, she is." It's more grudging than he's ever said it before.

He doesn't know why he can't just let it go like Sam and enjoy the fact that Elena put all of this effort into making his brother's birthday great. He can't help it, waking up to find her gone with a note that left no explanation, it's too much like his dad's disappearing act. He always makes himself okay with following orders without question and not prying into Elena's secrets and not talking about Sam's weird psychic powers, with letting all of them keep him on the outside.

He's getting pretty sick of being okay with it all.

At the bar, Cassie and Elena are having a great time getting to know each other.

Elena glances over at the boys, Sam is clearly two sheets to the wind, and Dean is still brooding. She rolls her eyes.

Cassie follows her line of sight. She shakes her head, grins over at Elena.

"He's just mad because he thinks your sexy little dance wasn't for him."

Elena looks at her in mild surprise.

"It wasn't."

Cassie scoffs in disbelief. "Girl, please."

Elena shakes her head. "Nope, sorry. That was definitely not about Dean."

"You can't tell me it was for whatshisface." Cassie levels her with a look. "I mean he was cute, but not Dean Winchester cute."

"No, it wasn't about him either," Elena says, ignoring the second half of her statement, then adds, "Not specifically anyway."

Cassie gestures for her to continue.

"I just wanted to see who would be brave enough to dance with me," she says easily. She cocks her head to the side, gives Cassie her dirtiest smile. "And then I was going to reward them. Many times."

Cassie looks at her like she's trying to figure her out.

"Why would you want some random bar hookup when you basically own Dean's soul?"

Elena looks at her. "I do not own Dean's soul. We are friends, partners, that's it."

Cassie laughs in her face. "And the pope is a woman." She cocks her head to the side, imitating Elena's look. "Whatshisface can't do for you what Dean can, trust me."

Elena doesn't back down.

"Reminding me that you slept with him isn't going to get under my skin, Cassie," Elena says, her tone surprisingly gentle.

Cassie looks startled. "I wasn't-" She cuts herself off, looking guilty.

"You were," Elena says, still not the least bit annoyed. "I really don't care." A lie, but one that Elena delivers flawlessly to this perfect stranger. "I was bored, I had extra time, I thought I'd scratch an itch, end of story."

Cassie looks at her in amazement. "You are a great liar."

Elena gives nothing away.

"I think you should do an encore, directly into Dean's arms. You're his, he's yours, all that gross rom-com stuff. Why fight it?"

Elena shakes her head. "I don't belong to him."

Cassie rolls her eyes. "Girl, I get the whole I-Am-Woman-Hear-Me-Roar-Independent-Woman-I-Belong-to-No-Man shit, believe me. Just don't use that as a shield to keep you from what you want."

Elena shakes her head again, more insistently this time. "Believe me, I know who belong to."

Her smile is all bared-teeth, caged animal. It's the first time that it occurs to Cassie that she knows absolutely nothing about this girl at all.

Abruptly it is clear that there is something wrong with the girl in front of her. She doesn't know her well enough to ask. Sam is drunk, and Dean is too busy being pissed off to actually look at Elena, instead of just watching the show she's putting on with resentment.

"So New Orleans wasn't a good time, huh?" Cassie hazards a guess.

Elena's smile grows a fraction grimmer. "New Orleans was a very good reminder of reality."

"So do you need to scratch an itch or do you need a distraction? Because Dean would be a great distraction." Cassie can admit that part of her motivation for wing-womaning is guilt. In the moment she'd only been thinking about herself, her grief for her father and how badly she just wanted to forget for a second – and Dean was very good at helping her forget. Now that she's met Elena she feels like an asshole.

Elena is distracted by something, she keeps looking at Sam and Dean's table and then some far corner of the bar. For a moment she looks angry, then afraid, and then it strikes Cassie hard, how very young she looks.

"Elena? Is something wrong?"

She shakes her head. "No, I just thought I recognized someone, that's all."

Cassie nods. "Okay, well, back to Dean-"

Elena puts down her drink, hopping off the bar.

"Oooh, are you going to talk to him?"

"No, Sam is about to puke."

Elena is already halfway to Sam's side by the time her words register to Cassie. She's marching Sam into the bathroom by the time Cassie reaches their table.

Sam is praying to the porcelain god while Elena stands behind him, rubbing his back. Dean is standing right outside the stall, torn between being pissed off at Elena and wanting to laugh because Elena drank Sam's gigantic ass under the table. Cassie is hovering uncertainly outside the bathroom door.

Sam finally pries himself away from the toilet. Sitting up, he stares blearily at Elena.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Elena, but I'm never doing shots with you again."

Elena stifles a giggle. "Yeah, okay, that's fair."

Sam moans.

"Are you gonna be sick again?"

He shakes his head, stumbling to his feet.

"No, I just realizes I puked up all of the cake." He pouts. "What a waste."

Elena bites her lip to keep from laughing. "There are leftovers."

He nods, content with the knowledge that he will eat that heavenly cake again, he heads over to the sink, shoving his head under the tap.

Elena uses her boot to flush the toilet, stepping out of the stall after him, coming face to face with Dean.

For a moment, they stare at each other. Dean must see something in Elena's face, because he softens for a moment.

"Elena, about Cassie-"

She cuts him off. "I really don't need to hear it."

He frowns, about to start again. "Elena, you don't understand-"

"Save it," she says, cutting him off. "You're Dean Winchester," she looks him up and down, "I know what happened."

He frowns, the anger creeping back in.

"Okay, seriously, Elena, now is not really the time to get all judgmental on me."

She smiles, showing him her teeth in a way she never has before. She cocks her head to the side, letting her hair slide across her back, all perfectly careless and cruel.

"I really don't care who you do."

Dean stares at her.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You think you're the one who gets to be bitchy after the shit you pulled?"

There's a hundred things Dean wants to yell at Elena as they herd Sam into the car and back to the motel.

Elena is mostly focused on making sure Sam doesn't puke in his car, which he should appreciate but somehow it just pisses him off more. Where does she get off acting like everything is normal when she won't even look at him properly? He knows the difference between her face and her mask; he might be the only one.

She's never bothered to try to hide from him, but now it's like a stranger came back from New Orleans in the place of his best friend. He pulls into the motel parking lot somewhat violently.

They manage to get Sam into the room with very little help from him. Dean gets him into bed and turns back to see Elena hovering in the doorway.

Most of the time he's good at shoving it the back of his head, how perfect she looks at every moment, but not now. She's there, her skirt one shade away from transparency, her shirt sliding up her stomach, all bared hips and loose hair, and she's more of a stranger than she's ever been to him.

"Well?" he asks, unable to stop staring even as angry as he is at her. "Are you coming in?"

"I'm not tired," she says stiffly. She won't look at him, or the empty bed between them. She keeps her eyes glued to the wall.

He snorts. She might look like a stranger and every dirty fantasy he's ever had all rolled into one, but he doesn't buy that.

"You look like hell," he says bluntly, because it's true. Elena dresses it up well, all bedroom eyes and clothes that look like they belong on a motel floor, but even as she feels like a stranger to him he stills sees what everyone else misses. He's been ignoring it because he's pissed, but he's not going to let her pretend, not right now.

"Gee, thanks," she says flatly.

"Elena, you look like you haven't slept since you left," he says, forcing himself to be gentle.

She flinches but says nothing, leading him to believe he's not too far off from the truth.

"Come here," he says gently, this time not having to force it.

She steps into the room.

"Come to bed, Elena."

She stiffens. She looks over at him at last, her face cold and impersonal again.

"I'm not going to sleep in the same bed as you," she says coldly.

It's his turn to flinch.

She shakes her head "I am so not that girl."

"What the hell does that mean?"

She looks at him like he's stupid.

"Really? We're just going to pretend like we didn't drop your girlfriend off at home 20 minutes ago?"

He stares at her, befuddled.

"Cassie's not my girlfriend, Elena, it was just unresolved shit. It happened, now it's over."

Elena clearly doesn't believe him.

"Dean, Cassie's the girl you never got over, you said it yourself," she reminds him, crossing her arms in front of her. "Don't pretend like you didn't say it, you did."

He stares at her, incredulous.

"I said that two years ago!" he says finally. "You can't hold me to stupid shit I said two years ago!"

She cocks her head to the side. "Why not? Were you lying?"

"No!" He shakes his head, visibly frustrated. "But things changed."

She scoffs. "Like what?"

He inhales sharply, disbelief painted across his face. "Oh, seriously? I spend every fucking day with you and only you for two and a half fucking years and you don't know what's changed?"

She keeps her calm even if he can't. "No, I don't," is her simple reply.

"Jesus Christ." He hates this about her, that she plays it all so close to the chest that it makes him feel fucking crazy, like he's imagining it all. "You are the only-" he cuts himself off.

"Fuck." He takes a deep breath, starts again. "You don't drive me crazy, Gilbert. Cassie always did, and that's part of why it didn't work between us. Crazy is fun but it doesn't work in the long run. You drive everyone else crazy. My dad, Sammy, but not me. I'm just-" he cuts himself off again. There are so many things he wants to say but it doesn't feel like the right time, he keeps holding back.

"You get me, and I get you," he tells her, trying to find some semblance of control in the act of confession. "And that's all I've ever really wanted."

He gestures at her. "But you like it this way. Where I've got your back and you've got mine. I save you, and you save me, and that's it." He smiles painfully.

"We don't," He looks away from her because it's too big to say to her face when she looks like absolutely nothing at all. "We don't even acknowledge there's anything else. Not even at the end of the day when we're in bed together and your body gets so hot just from being underneath shitty motel comforters that I can feel it. Like you're some kind of human radiator or some shit. Even with all that space between us, separate sides of the bed and all that bullshit, I can still feel you."

He doesn't realize how hard he's breathing until he's done, it's like it's physically taxing to be this honest with her. He dares to look back at her.

As usual, she gives nothing away.

"You didn't say anything about being over Cassie," she finally says, her voice so soft that he couldn't even begin to guess what she's feeling.

He stares at her in utter disbelief.

"Oh fuck you, Elena. You don't say anything to me at all."

He turns away, suddenly furious again. Elena never replies. By the time he composes himself enough to turn back, the doorway is empty. She's gone. Again.

It's early when Sam wakes up to the feeling of déjà vu. Elena is gone, Dean clearly hasn't slept and is trying to pretend he isn't worried.

"She just left," he says flatly. "She didn't even say where she was going, or if she's-" he cuts himself off.

Sam understands immediately. "She's coming back, Dean. You guys had a fight, she just probably went to cool off."

Dean doesn't look convinced.

Despite his pounding head and roiling stomach, Sam leaves the room, convinced that she's somewhere nearby. When he passes the Impala he's struck by inspiration.

Hurrying back to the room, he begins searching for his phone immediately. "Elena never took her stuff out of the car, the outfit she was wearing last night is folded on the backseat too, I bet she just went for a run," he explains as he searches.

Dean nods, looking relieved.

Sam finds his phone on the floor next to his bed. Luckily there's enough battery to make a quick phone call.

"Hey Cassie, it's Sam. Listen, this might seem like a weird question, but do you know any running trails in town?"

Sam finds Elena on the most difficult one, of course. He's way too hungover to be running but he manages a halfhearted jog until he catches sight of her familiar ponytail.

Before he can call out to her she bolts off the trail. He chases after her, concerned. He finds her hunched over, puking her guts out.

He pulls her ponytail back, reaching a hand out to rub her back like she'd done for him only hours before, but she flinches away.

"It's just me, Elena," he says, keeping his voice soft.

She looks at him through a haze of exhaustion.

He gives her an empathetic half smile. "Feeling the shots now?"

She shakes her head. "No," she replies hoarsely.

It hits him all at once, the fact that every inch of her is covered in sweat, her hair is wet through with it.

"Have you been running all night?"

She only looks at him.

It occurs to him suddenly that he's never seen Elena hungover. She drinks plenty but she never seems to face any repercussions for it. He has a sneaking suspicion that her nausea is only a reaction to pushing herself beyond her own already terrifying limits.

"C'mon, Elena, I think you're done, okay?"

She sets her jaw stubbornly but she lets him lead her back to the trail.

"I'm gonna call Dean to meet us at the road, okay?" He's mostly talking to fill the silence. "I left him at the start of the trail, you know how he is about recreational exercise."

She gives a tiny huff at that, but it's enough for Sam. He puts his already ringing phone to his ear.

She's barely upright, and truthfully Sam isn't much better. He reaches out to clasp her arm, taking some of her weight. Under his thumb he can feel what he thinks is a band-aid at the crook of her elbow. For a moment he is puzzled, considering asking about it, but he pushes it aside when Dean answers, sounding tense.

A few days and states later and Dean and Elena have basically stopped talking. They don't sleep in the same bed because Elena is gone all night, every night. Sam assumes she's running but he never catches her in her running clothes again.

It's late afternoon and Dean is at the local watering hole. Sam is heading back to their motel room to get his phone charger.

He finds Elena curled up on the couch, napping. She doesn't look comfortable or restful, but Sam is as quiet as he can be, it's the only time he's seen her sleep since she got back.

Sam finally finds his phone charger, he's about to step out into the sitting room when he hears Elena's voice.

"Oh honey, how did you get your daddy's phone?"

It doesn't take a lot to figure out she's on the phone with someone. She sounds lethargic, but her tone is sweeter than he's heard her sound in a while.

"Yes, baby, I know. Now go find your daddy for me, sweet girl."

Sam frowns, it's clear she's talking to a child. Instantly he remembers her joke about babysitting – could she have been telling the truth?

"There you are, how in the hell did she manage to call me?"

She laughs. "Clever girl." She makes a small hum. "I miss her too."

He hears rustling as she moves her position.

"Next time you need a babysitter, Mikaelson, you can just ask, you don't have to be so dramatic."

His eyes widen. She told them the truth.

Elena is somewhere between sick and tired when she finally gets off the phone with Hope and Klaus. She's considering if it's even worth trying to nap when her phone rings again.

It's an unknown number; her stomach barely flutters when she answers.

Katherine does not bother with a greeting, does not allow time for Elena to adjust, she simply drops the bomb.

"I lost him."

Three words and Elena's entire life caves in.

Back in the bar, Sam practically tackles Dean.

"She was telling the truth!"

Dean looks at him, bewildered.

"I'm gonna need more than that, Sammy."

Sam shakes his head, slamming his journal on the table. "Elena was telling the truth, Dean."

Dean looks taken aback.

"I went back to the room to get my charger, while I was there I heard her on the phone with someone, Michaelson or something, she was talking to a guy and a little girl and she said 'next time you need a babysitter, you can just ask, you don't have to be so dramatic.' She really did go to New Orleans to look after someone's kid."

Dean stares at him for a moment, uncomprehending.

Sam waits for it to sink in.

"She's never mentioned someone named Michaelson."

Sam rolls his eyes. "Dean, that's beside the point, don't you get it?"

Dean shrugs. "So she was telling the truth, who would've thought?"

Sam shakes his head, frustrated. "Dean, she told us the truth but we thought she was joking."

Dean nods. "She makes a lot of weird jokes, of course we thought she was kidding."

Sam nods back at him enthusiastically, pointing at him.

"See, that's the thing, we think she's joking, but what if she isn't."

Dean stares at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what if she knows the truth is so absurd that she can just get away with telling us and we'll never believer her?" he leans forward. "Maybe she tells you the truth when she knows you won't take it seriously, when you think she's joking."

Dean looks like he's just realized something.

"Like having an evil doppelganger?"

Sam's eyes widen. He opens his journal, revealing his secret notes on Elena. Under her name is what the Native American man had called her. Sam points to it.

"Harbinger," Dean reads out loud.

"In folklore, doppelgangers are harbingers of death and misfortune," Sam tells him.

Dean frowns, still looking at Sam's notes. "You started a journal entry on Elena?"

Sam shifts uncomfortably. "I know it's not great," he admits. "But I can't ignore this feeling, Dean. There's always been something about Elena that feels a little bit too much like a case. Like there's so much more happening than she's even hinted."

Dean's face is unreadable.

"I'm not asking you to pry or anything, but if you could just," Sam takes a deep breath. "I don't want to ask you to betray Elena's trust or anything, but whatever you can tell me, it could fill in the gaps."

Dean looks doubtful. "Dad was pretty clear that he wanted me to keep out of Elena's shit."

Sam shakes his head. "How are you supposed to keep her safe if you don't know anything about what happened to her?"

Something flickers across Dean's face, Sam makes the leap in an instant.

"Unless you know more than you let on?"

Dean sighs heavily. "I've guessed some of it, based off her reactions to some stuff. The scarecrow was a bad time for her. She basically confirmed some of it. At the same time, I don't even know what I know, you know?"

Sam leans in, trying not to be overeager.

"Why don't you just tell me why Elena left home? Whatever you know about that, we'll start there."

Dean only hesitates for a moment. "You remember how I said Elena had two serious exes, but they're serious for different reasons?"

Sam nods, looking slightly confused.

"Stefan was the last guy she dated. He fucked her up pretty bad. But it was the first guy she ever dated who's the big deal. They were childhood sweethearts, best friends. They broke up after her parents died, but they stayed pretty close. His name was Matt."

He pauses so long Sam is afraid he's not going to say anymore.

"Do you remember when I told you that Elena was in a car accident right before she left?"

Sam nods. "Yeah, it was the same bridge where her parents died, right?"

Dean sighs heavily. "Yeah. What I didn't tell you is that she wasn't alone. Matt was driving." He pauses, looking at Sam. "Elena doesn't talk about this, ever."

Sam holds his breath.

"Matt never came out of the water, Sam. He died that night."

tbc.

AN: Chapter title taken from 100 Round the Bends by Missy Higgins. This song is from Missy's album On A Clear Night which exists in the rare category of albums that I love every single song from. Literally every one. In fact, I love this album so much, my first ever Deanlena story's title is taken from the song Warm Whispers, which is track 6. (…lol literally just realized I have another deanlena fic planned that is also titled from a song on this album…I really love this album, clearly.) I have a tradition with my grandpa where I give him my favorite albums for Christmas, and that tradition actually started with On A Clear Night. The song Elena dances to is Black Velvet by Alannah Myles

This chapter was crazy long - like 23.5k unedited - so a lot of the actual episode got cut, but really it was just recapping. Elena isn't there so very little changes, we've all seen the show. And honestly to be honest, I cannot stand this episode. I mean, don't get me wrong, I actually genuinely love Cassie - I don't think she and Dean make a very good couple but I think she's a lot of fun and damn is her actress gorgeous - and I'm always disappointed she only had one appearance, but the plot of this episode is all over the place and frankly weird and cringy as fuck so, I can't say I'm sorry I cut most of it.

References/Chapter Notes whatever the fuck this rambling is:

This chapter was not supposed to start with John pov, I just couldn't resist once the idea struck me.

I did in fact write Elena taking Hope to see Wof!Hayley but alas, this chapter was a mammoth so it got taken out. I'm probably gonna post it separately, just mulling over what exactly that's gonna look like. There's an idea taking shape in my head, but I'm still thinking it over at the moment.

Dean is probably the person who knows John Winchester best, and he's also the person who cares the most about his feelings. So of course he'd know that John cares deeply about Elena, and of course he would be the one to assign value to that relationship and respect that. He's a damn fool for it, but he'd fucking do it.

So yeah, I know a lot of you are gonna hate that Dean still slept with Cassie but, I think what their relationship really needed was closure. And uh, Dean's not good at the talking. It's why his relationship with Elena is such an undefined (unaddressed) mess even though he talks about more shit with her than with anyone.

I sort of wanted to keep the integrity of the pillow talk scene even though I changed it, which is how Dean's whole speech about Elena happened. The original show scene was Dean being relatively vulnerable and honest - for season one Dean anyway, we know our boy can go deeper - and specifically about a romantic relationship. So I had him be (somewhat) honest about (some of) his fears about Elena. Truthfully I think a lot of what he says is fueled by emotion. He's feeling betrayed and anxious and so he's focusing on a specific flaw in Elena's character. Elena is canonically a great liar and frankly terrifyingly competent at manipulating people, and while I think deep down Dean knows she'd never want to hurt or manipulate him, her secrets do wear on him and are a pretty significant source of doubt for him.

New Orleans and Cape Girardeau are 567.3 miles apart :)

Elena's shorts: finally the truth has been revealed, Elena's infamous shorts are in fact the remnants of the notorious pants Dean took off of her (to save her life!).

Originally it was supposed to end in Cassie's driveway, Elena would get the address from Sam and take a cab there. At the last minute it occurred to me that I could do better than that.

I have so many thoughts about the way Petrovas affect people, but the more I say the more I give away future plots - including stuff from other stories I have planned - so instead I'll just say that I think intent matters a lot. There's a difference between Elena wanting information and Elena wanting an audience.

Hope and Sam do canonically have the same birthday, May 2nd!

I am just not narratively interested in girl fights over men, I'm sorry if someone wanted a showdown but, in my mind, Cassie is fully supportive of Dean and Elena and thinks Elena is fascinating. Elena is always gonna save face, but I swear she actually has fun flirting with Cassie.

Okay yes, fighting is not fun, but they are very much at an impasse here. Dean wants to move forward and Elena just had a very nasty reminder of why they can't. Dean can only compromise about lies and half truths for so long before he can't handle it anymore, it's a miracle he's made it this long, considering how central Dean's hatred of deception in his personal relationships is to his character.

Elena dodges the truth a lot but mostly she just sort of flat out tells them she won't tell them or tells them the truth because she knows they won't believe her. I mean, she literally told them she has a doppelganger and they laughed. Sam constantly mentioning Elena's twisted sense of humor isn't just a random thing, he's got really good instincts, subconsciously he understands there's something more there, and now there is reward, he finally figured it out.

Chapter 15 is the flashback chapter for anyone keeping track, so next Sunday won't be Nightmare, but it will give a lot of long awaited answers about Elena's plot!

Questions? Thoughts? Comments? Please leave a review!

xoxo

-Pixie