Hey all!

Ok.

So I'm a little conflicted on how to proceed here after watching the final scene of 4X05 between Elijah and Marcel. I personally felt it was a little extreme for Elijah's character to act as he did, particularly given how he responded immediately following he killed Marcel last season. Would a man so horrified by his actions he fell to his knees, begging for forgiveness be so unnecessarily cruel now when Marcel no longer is a demonstrative threat? From a logic standpoint it just didn't sit right with me. I'm giving the writers the benefit of the doubt that I don't think that was explicit, intentional OOC. So given that, I am going to proceed under the auspices of the Hollow is subtlety influencing Elijah's darker side. To what end I am not certain, but if the Hollow has been going after the Labonair family, what better than to influence a darkness within the one closest to them? Who knows? I'm just guessing at this juncture, and it may prove out to be something different in canon, but I'm trying to keep the Map That Leads to You series close to cannon vignettes and missing scenes as I can. I hope you enjoy!

I went back and scanned through Elijah's instability after what his mother did, and I had forgotten all about this line:

Every now and then i can become consumed with chaos, and untethered from that control...

Enjoy and please comment!

Elijah had intended to come with Klaus in the morning to take Hayley and Hope back to the city, but after the events of the evening he found himself too unsettled to remain apart from Hayley. Particularly after being forced leave when she was still so deeply troubled about the fate of her parents. He had seen with his own two eyes the evil responsible for their deaths, felt the menace and hatred seeping from it, and it clung to him still. When they had returned to the compound, he had tried to chase away the feeling with a few hearty fingers of bourbon, but it remained like an itch deep in his mind he could not quite reach.

Failing that, he then turned to the practical. Attempting to reassure himself that there was no longer an active threat, he went to check on Marcel. But that interaction had only served to heighten the feeling that gnawed at him, and he could barely recall the exchange.

So he found himself here, returning to Mary's cabin in the bayou, well into the night. He had texted her hours ago that the imminent threat had passed, so he suspected they were long asleep. His intention had been to keep watch until morning, however, as he slowed his advanced speed at the cusp of the small dock, he was surprised to find Mary awake on one of the outdoor chairs, looking out over the softly moving water. Her head turned almost imperceptibly as her wolf-ears detected his arrival, but she didn't turn to glare with her usual disdain for him.

"Couldn't sleep either huh?" She asked, eyes moving to the bright moon that hung high in the sky. Elijah, removing his coat, draped it over the railing as he approached slowly, curious at her mood. He looked through the sheer drapes of the closest window, seeing Hayley curled up in a over-large rocker in the main room asleep, Hope's small shape in the cabin's main room just behind her.

"No," he replied simply. "We had a little run-in with this Hollow, and a proper look at it has rendered me somewhat...introspective."

Mary looked at him properly then, the soft brown of her brows raised high at his words before she composed herself once again. As her lips pressed into a tight line, Elijah could see clearly that something had disturbed the elder werewolf, well before his unexpected arrival. Her aging frame, always defiant before he or any of his family, looked suddenly small and tired.

"Look vampire, as far as I can figure, this situation is one of the few things in this world that I can't manage to blame on your kind. In fact, as much as I hate to admit it, I'm thinking that you might be one of the few things left that can keep Hayley and that beautiful baby girl safe from that thing. That thing has been nippin at the tails of every member of the Lebonair family as far back as my memory can find." She turned and leveled her gaze straight at him then. "I couldn't protect Hayley when she was little, and now I'm too old now to do much good in making sure the Hollow doesn't sink its teeth into her again."

Elijah's jaw clenched, the very thought of what he had witnessed today getting close to Hayley or Hope damaged what little control he had gained over his rage on his run to the bayou.

"I can assure you, there is no length to which I would not go to keep them safe." He stated cooly. Elaborating on the rage that boiled far too close to the surface beneath him would be, unproductive at best.

Mary was no fool, and she knew fully well what he was capable of so she accepted his statement at face value. She stood then, gathering the keys on the side-table next to her, looking at him for a long moment before speaking.

"My whole life, I've never trusted a vampire with my kin. Don't make me regret it Elijah Mikaelson."

Mild surprise registered on Elijah's face at the idea that she would show throat to him, but she continued before he could speak.

"I'm headed over to a friend's place on the other side of the bayou for a day or two. Gonna see what she might have in her old noggin that might help us with our problem," she paused, swallowing hard. "You are invited into my home."

With that, she turned and left, leaving a slightly stunned Elijah in her wake.

He waited until the sound of her truck had pulled away before he extended his senses to their limit, unable to find even the barest trace of a threat in the air. Confident in their safety for the time being, the restlessness in him settled.

He turned to test the barrier with his hand before pushing through the threshold unhindered, finding the small cabin warm and pleasant when he stepped inside, every edge and surface well worn but tended with care. He could see Hope more clearly now, curled up on the large bed in the main bedroom, impossibly small under the pile of blankets and heirloom quilts she had buried herself under.

He closed the door and slid the bolts on the outer door to lock it, he moved to Hayley's sleeping form. A small smile crossed his face as he took her in, long legs propped up on the unused room corner stove, boots and all. She had a worn crochet blanket pulled up over her shoulders, hair tugged loose of her previously neat ponytail.

Despite his great care not to disturb her, the moment he reached to adjust the blanket she startled slightly, jolting awake. His hand went to her shoulder then, a shushing sound coming from his lips.

"Elijah..."she said sleepily, "is everything ok? ...didn't expect you until morning." She pulled her feet off the stove, setting them down on the ground. Before he could answer, her eyes widened, realization that he was standing inside the cabin catching up with her sleepy brain. He offered her his hand, and she took it as he gently tugged her to her feet.

"Mary is suffering from a guilty conscious," he offered. "She resigned herself to let me in before she departed to visit a friend for information on the Hollow for a few days."

Hayley nodded before leaning against him, still not quite awake.

"She told you then?" She asked quietly, nuzzling her forehead into his chest. His hand moved to the back of her neck then, squeezing gently. He could feel the tension along the muscles beneath his fingertips.

"Yes." He said simply, working very hard to keep his tone as neutral as possible. His hand moved from the back of her neck to her chin, tilting it upwards to face him. He looked at her for a long moment, wishing that he did not see the uncharacteristic fear and uncertainty in her eyes he saw now.

Parents had a strange power over their children. For him, it took shape in the terror of his own father, who should have been his greatest inspiration, but was the nightmare stalking him for centuries. But for Hayley, her parents had always been just beyond her reach. Even while their abandonment pained her deeply, the myth of why they had to do it still held sway over her. Finding out that they had been hunted, that perhaps their parents had been hunted...by the same monster that had threatened her own child...

"Hey." She intoned softly, interrupting his thoughts. Her fingers traced under his darkening eyes, traces of vein extending beneath her fingertips. He closed his eyes and took a slow deep breath to calm the chaos within him, surprised at how quickly he was losing control. The warmth of her under his hands helping to pull him back to center.

"Your parents, your ancestors, however far back this may go...they did not have the advantage that you and Hope have." He offered, his voice a darker register, somewhere between reverence and rage. "They were not part of the Mikaelson family. They were not the mother of that family's greatest joy. Not their partner in raising that child, or friend." His fingers sunk into her hair, pulling her closer as his words took on a slightly desperate edge. "They were not my love."

The air escaped from her lungs at the earnest gravity of his words. She felt the pull of them in her heart, a thread that followed through with assurance at his words, settling deep inside of her. The faith that the curse that followed her own family would end with her. That with his help, and the help of her found family, that it would threaten them no more. That the Hollow would be one less enemy lurking in the shadow of Hope's future.

Her hands reached up to cover his own where they were buried in her hair, grasping them as she guided him towards the small second bedroom. Once perhaps a nursery, there was a bed along the window and a small dresser with room for precious little else as she pulled the door closed behind them. The bright moon filtered down through the trees and moss, casting scattered ghosts of light into the space.

They disrobed slowly, a delicate kiss or caress moving across flesh as it was exposed to air until they stood naked before each other, possessed not with wild passions, but the need for comfort and connection. Elijah moved to the small wooden framed bed, sitting on its edge as Hayley moved to stand between his knees. Looking down at him, her hands reached up to his face, searching it for any trace of the darkness she had seen before as her fingernails slowly grazed across the base of his skull. She found none, only familiar dark liquid pools, calm and content staring back at her.

His own hands reached to her waist then, fingers spanned across the flesh of her back, tattooed in broken moonlight as he pulled her into his arms.

Fin.