This can really take place at any time during season 3 where Stefan was rippah!Stefan simply because he's not around in this. You decide.
"Stay."
It was just one whispered word, but it held so much. He knew she'd been scared today. Terrified. She'd almost died, he'd almost died, Jeremy had almost died, everyone had almost died. No one would want to stay alone after that.
But he was Damon Salvatore and she was Elena Gilbert. So of course he was going to read into it.
She stared up at him with those beautiful brown eyes of hers. Curled up on the couch, she looked so fragile and alone.
Alone because his own brother had abandoned her, to save Damon's own life, no less. Every time Elena felt alone, every time she missed Stefan, it was Damon's fault. Every time Stefan wasn't there to save her.
So he sat. And he put his arm around her and let her rest against him, knowing she was holding back tears. Because what else could he do to make this better? It seemed like every time he opened his mouth he said something wrong. All he could do was hold her and hope that was enough.
Her arms tightened around him as she buried her face in his neck. Tears started falling against his shoulders, and still he said nothing. She needed to get this out. Before, she'd been surrounded by people. Jeremy, Caroline, Bonnie, Tyler. And Damon knew she would never break down in front of them. Probably for some stupid selfless reason.
She smelled like smoke and dirt, but underneath that was still that unique scent of Elena that would never leave his mind. He squeezed her a little tighter and pressed his lips against her hair. Waiting for it to be over. Waiting for her pain to stop.
Except it never really would, he knew. As soon as her parents had driven off that bridge and she'd woken up without them, she'd been in pain. And that was never going to stop. Not after losing her parents, not after losing Jenna or being thrown into a world full of vampires and werewolves and witches.
So all he could do was hold her. Because even in this world of death, even in this world where she was in love with his compelled-to-destroy-everything brother, she wasn't alone. And he wanted her to know that.
When her tears finally stopped, neither of them let go. They continued to hold each other as the sun went down and the moon came up. Eventually, she whispered, "Thank you."
"There's nothing to thank me for, Elena."
She squirmed but didn't let go of him, didn't look up. "You saved my life today. You saved everyone's lives. And now you're . . . here. Even though I know you have something better to do."
He hadn't saved everyone today, not really. It was all luck and the help of a few witchy spells. "If I left now, I'd go home and sit in the dark and drink, Elena," he said wryly. "So no, I don't have anything better to do." He grabbed her chin and lifted it up so she was looking at him. "I'm here as long as you need me," he said firmly.
Her lips curved up at the edges just a tiny bit. It wasn't much, but it was enough. Enough for Damon to remember that when it came to Elena, there was still hope. She didn't hate him. She relied on him. And maybe someday, she could love him.
Or maybe someday she'd be sitting on this couch with Stefan while Damon tore open throats and murdered needlessly.
He sighed and reached for the remote, flipping the TV on. Anything to distract him. Anything to forget about all the things he'd done and all the reasons Elena would never be with him, no matter what she felt.
He had to get his brother back. Or Elena would never forgive him.
"Damon?"
He made a noncommittal noise to show he was listening.
"Klaus . . . he's not going to give up, is he? No matter what we do."
"He has what he needs for now. We have time before he tries to get more."
"How many hybrids does he need?"
Damon shrugged. "Doesn't matter. He'll be dead before he can get enough." He wondered if she was shocked at the nonchalant way he said it. Maybe. He didn't particularly care. Klaus was going to die for everything he'd done, that much was certain. It was just the how that still needed to be worked out.
They both stayed quiet for a long time, watching the pictures on the screen move and the colors change but never really paying attention. Finally, Elena asked quietly, "What if I said I wanted to leave?"
Not too long ago, Damon would have said there wasn't much that surprised him anymore. But then Elena had come into his life (and so had the Originals) and suddenly it was like he didn't know anything anymore. "What?"
"Leave Mystic Falls. If I said I wanted to, would you?"
Damon blinked. Was this a trick question? "Elena, you know you wouldn't do that. Jeremy is here. All your friends. All your memories of your parents and Jenna."
"I'd bring Jeremy with. Or at least make sure he was somewhere safe. Jenna and my parents . . . sure, the memories are here, but they're not. Their things are still here, and I look at them every day, and I remember what happened to Jenna and how it's going to happen to everyone else if we don't stop this . . . And I just want to leave."
Damon closed his eyes. "Elena, if you really wanted to, you know I would. But you don't. You don't run away from your problems." It was another one of the million things that set her apart from Katherine. Katherine would run for the hills anytime there was a sign of trouble; Elena faced it head-on.
Elena burrowed deeper into him, obviously fighting off tears again. "I wish you were wrong," she mumbled against his skin.
"I'm sorry." And he was. For everything. Everything he'd done to her, everyone she'd lost. He had no way to fix any of that.
But he could try to stop it from happening again. He could do what he did best: kill people. Only this time, he'd kill vampires instead of innocent strangers.
Yeah. Sounded like a great plan.
Eventually, Elena pulled away from him and stood up. He tried to keep his expression blank until she held out a hand to him. "I . . . I don't want to be alone. You said you'd stay."
Staring up at her, he knew the surprise on his face was obvious. Even so, he quickly took her hand and stood up, leading her up the stairs. "You're not alone, Elena. You're never alone."
He'd make sure of it.
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