Later that evening, after she and Klaus had settled Hope down from a nightmare, Hayley made her way up to her own room. She prayed that it had not been vandalized so badly all those years ago that she couldn't salvage at least one night's sleep out of it. Hayley would have preferred to stay with Hope, but her little girl was well and thoroughly in a "Daddy Phase" at the moment. Hope had fallen back asleep in Klaus' arms, and he had volunteered to watch over her while Hayley got a little sleep. Squeezing the bag in her hand tighter as she ascended the final flight of stairs, Hayley knew objectively that she didn't begrudge Klaus for his well deserved bonding time, but she couldn't pretend she didn't feel a slight pang in her heart at the loss of being the sole center of Hope's world.

Reaching the top landing of the compound she was surprised to see a soft light coming from within her room already. She paused, taking in a deep breath of the night air, catching Elijah's familiar scent easily as he moved about inside her room. She approached quietly, leaning against the doorframe to watch him for a moment.

He almost certainly knew she was there, but chose not to acknowledge her as he went about his singular mission to make her space somewhat presentable. He must have managed to find at least one linen closet that had not been ransacked, as he had changed the bed and straightened up what he could. Several of the dresser drawers were missing or cracked, and her mirror was in several thousand pieces that had been swept into a corner. Candles had been lit in makeshift holders, casting a soft and forgiving light on the broken remnants of her former abode.

She paused her inspection long enough to realize that he was now looking at her, the intensity of his gaze making her slightly uncomfortable. She thought of her last words to him down in the courtyard. We have to do better. With the day's toils already adding up, she realized she was exhausted and not quite ready for whatever serious discussion was waiting behind his unreadable gaze. She spoke first, praying to forestall it. Even if just for a moment.

"This is great Elijah, thank you." She offered, gesturing to slightly less of a disaster that was her bedroom with her free hand. She stepped up to him, only a few inches apart as she set the bag in her hand down on the bed. He nodded slightly, acknowledging his endless thoughtfulness with a characteristic indifference. Hayley remembered a phrase Rebekah had used to describe her brother to Hayley once, calling him "unrepentant" in his desire to dote on those he cared for.

He slipped his hand into hers, nodding his head towards the large bag on the bed.

"Whats this?" He asked quietly. The subdued quality to his voice doing nothing to dispel the nerves in her belly. She had meant what she had told him, but that didn't mean she ever wanted to hurt him. Glad for more distraction, she ducked her head, a slight smile as she used her free hand to poke at the jagged hole in his once immaculate shirt, the one she herself had made, only now noticing that the garment was also peppered with several bullet holes as well.

"We all smell of swamp, and you are full of holes. And I noticed that in our rush to get to here from the house you didn't pack a bag…so I revived a page from my past with a little, um, gentle B&E?" She winced a little before continuing. "I left cash at least." She upended the bag, with an assorted pile of clothing spilling out. "They were fresh out of anything that requires tailoring, but I figured you could make due." She looked back at him, glad to see that a small smile at least was on his face.

"Thank you Hayley, I think somehow I will survive." He teased, looking back to her. She rested her hand on his chest, the expression of bemused wonder on her face that struck him as curious. "What is it?" He asked gently.

Her fingers pulled softly at the edges of the jagged edges of his shirt, ghosting across the perfectly smooth skin underneath it.

"It's not everyday that a girl has to stab her boyfriend through the heart with a giant stick. And he not only lives, but isn't even mad." She smiled and looked up at him, but when she saw his his dark brows arched high in surprise, she realized what she said. With a laugh she covered her own mouth, starting to draw back with embarrassment only to be pulled in closer as his hand moved from hers to wrap around her waist.

"Oh God, that is just too weird to ever say again." His brow arched imperceptibly higher as his head tilted to the side and he captured a quick kiss.

"Weird?" He inquired, voice laden with manufactured insult. She rapped him on the chest with her knuckles, glad at least that his mood had lightened somewhat.

"Yes! Weird!" She shook her head, trying to clear it of the increasingly horrifying vision of Elijah sanding in a decorated high school cafeteria with flowers in his hand. "Its too…you're a thousand years old Elijah! Boyfriend seems so….no, nope." She shook her head, deciding she was firm on the issue. He shook his head with a smile and kissed her again, a taste of rising passion that had not been there before. A need to connect after the terrible day they had survived. She leaned against him then, forehead against his as her hair created a curtain around their faces.

"It's more than that." She continued, "Its also just.…" She paused, leaning back a bit looking up at him, not sure how to articulate what she was feeling. When her eyes connected with his she that he understood what she was getting at, and that he felt the same.

"It is not enough." He said simply. The term of endearment was woefully insufficient to capture what she meant to him. What they meant to each other. What they hoped to build for this family was beyond boyfriend and girlfriend, however affectionately said. She nodded, eyes never leaving his, beyond grateful that he understood, that she didn't need to explain. He took a moment to think, fingers moving to toy with the thin gold cuff on her wrist, so similar to his own. He wondered if she knew of the significance...No. He stopped himself.

It was too soon for the other words.

The words he longed to be worthy of using to describe the woman he held in his arms. Words that he knew were too soon to utter. Words that he wanted to be able to deserve. To earn. He wanted her to never stop expecting more from him.

It would could take some time before they were ready. Before he was able to be the kind of man that she and Hope needed him to be. That he needed to become for their family to find true, lasting peace. But he wanted it.

He wanted it more fiercely that he had wanted anything before in his life.

Fin.