Okay, you guys, this is something I wrote before the last three episodes of the season aired. In case you haven't heard, The Southeast US got hit incredibly hard by over 260 tornados two weeks ago, and I'm from Alabama (which was where the greatest damage was). Needless to say, ever since then my internet connection has been very persnickety, and I've just now been able to keep it running long enough to post this. So basically we're pretending that Jenna and John and Elijah and other miscellaneous characters (RIP) never died here, Damon never fed Elena blood, the sheriff didn't go rogue on Jeremy, the sacrifice ritual went very differently and basically everything that happened, well, hasn't. Please just bear with me here. This is my ridiculous and entirely incompetent version of the season's end here, and I hope you'll give it a chance.
… … …
Elena slowly, painstakingly lifted her head up from the rough, cold stone altar, glancing blearily through the flames. Bonnie was duking it out with a tall, dark, muscular warlock, Jeremy supporting her from behind as she steadily weakened. Caroline was trying to stake another blond male vampire through the heart, standing protectively in front of Tyler, who had transformed and was being held down by a spell that Bonnie had cast earlier. Katherine lay motionless near the fire, her grey, veined skin glowing eerily against the glow. A spindly, splintery branch protruded from her chance, forever silencing one of the Petrova doppelgangers. Stefan was nowhere in sight, and if the plan was going correctly, he was sneaking back to the boarding house to retrieve the silver dagger and vial of white ash. Elijah was ferociously warring against the unyielding Klaus, his refined manner beginning to slip as the fight wore on. And then…there was Damon.
Her Damon, fighting away at Klaus alongside Elijah like there was no tomorrow (which, in fact, there might not be. For any of them). His leather jacket was ripped and what was left of it hung off his left shoulder, flapping with his every move. He took a mighty lunge at Klaus, but was only flung against a tree trunk with a sickening crunch as a result. Elena gasped, and Klaus rounded on her, his eyes gleaming malevolently. Elijah tried to leap into his path, but Klaus merely swatted him away, as if her were a particularly weak household pest. Elena's eyes widened in fear, and she shot a look past the vampire advancing toward her to catch a glimpse of the elder Salvatore. He had slid down the thick trunk, bark splintering through his ripped shirt as he did. Klaus's push had impaled him on a large tree branch, with had punctured all the way through the left portion of his torso. His eyes were glazed over as they clashed with Elena's one last time, and he mouthed something at her that she couldn't decipher before slumping to the ground, unconscious. Or could he be…? A strangled sob tore through Elena's body at the thought, and Klaus, who had reached her by now, merely rolled his eyes and lifted his well manicured hand to strike. Elena shrunk back and closed her eyes in terrified anticipation, and felt an excruciating blow to the cheek before everything snapped to black.
… … …
Suddenly aware of her surroundings, Elena slid her eyelids open and tried to prop herself up on one elbow. She winced as her arm scraped along the gritty rock, and groaned when a shooting pain darted up the side of her face. She lifted a hand to her cheek, feeling a raised mark swelling just below her eye. Where Klaus had hit her. Klaus! Sacrifice! Elena sat completely up in a flash, looking around frantically. She searched for faces, any face, every face that belonged to someone she cared about. Bonnie was lounging against a tree, looking thoroughly exhausted and leaning into Jeremy's side. Caroline and Tyler were nowhere in sight, but Elena assumed that they were alright, given the unusual calmness of the scene around her. Katherine was just as dead as she was when Elena had last seen her, and Stefan and Elijah were at the edge of the clearing, digging what looked like a mass grave. Alaric, who had arrived on the scene sometime after Elena has lost consciousness, was dragging the dead warlock by the ankles, preparing to drop him into the grave. The blond vampire, who had been staked, was lying off to the side, next to a vampire who looked completely serene despite the silver dagger buried to the hilt protruding from his chest. Klaus. Klaus was dead. Gone. Never to terrorize the lot of them again (unless, of course, some bastard removed the dagger. But Elena didn't want to think of that right now. She barely could think at all).
But Elena knew that something was missing. Someone was missing. Agonized with wild assumptions, she dragged her gaze to the right, where she had last seen Damon. And to her utter devastation, he was still there; he hadn't moved an inch from where she had seen him look into her eyes and mouth something she would've had to have been a fool not to guess. The branch was no longer embedded in his torso, but still he did not move.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head even though her stiff neck screamed in protest. "No. No," she repeated, her voice growing stronger. Her feet seemed to move of their own accord, stretching out from under her and carrying her down from the stone altar. "NO!" She shrieked, and broke into a run across the clearing.
She heard Stefan calling her name, and shovels dropping as she ran, but she did not turn to look. The sounds seemed strangely muffled; almost as if they were calling to her from miles away. When she reached the roots of the giant old tree, whose bark had been recently stripped away in chunks, her knees gave out, and she fell at his side. She brushed the bark away from his skin and pushed his soft dark hair away from his face, her hands trembling violently. His skin had not grayed, and his veins were not protruding. Why would he not wake up? He had to. He was Damon. He couldn't die. Not after all this time.
Elena threw her arms around his motionless, lax shoulders, resting her cheek against the exposed bit of skin under the torn shirt on his chest. She vaguely realized that she was crying – hot, scalding tears streaked down her face, dripping off her nose and onto his shirt. "Damon, please. Please do this for me. One last favor."
A low moan vibrated the skin under Elena's damp cheek. She let out a ragged gasp as she felt his chest rise, then slowly fall beneath her.
"Damon?" she exclaimed, her lips brushing his chest. He groaned again, louder this time.
"Not my finest hour," he said gutturally, his head lolling to one side. "I. Feel. Like. Hell."
"Oh god, am I hurting you?" Elena asked frantically, trying to push off from his upper body. But Damon's arm snaked around her back, holding her down against him where she was.
"Stay," he said simply, his sardonic tone absent. He slowly ran a hand from the crown of her head to the ends of her hair, letting his palm rest in the small of her back. They both lay still, closing their eyes and relishing the oasis they had been fighting for all along.
"So, it takes me almost dying for you to finally come around? If I'd have known, I might've tried it earlier," he said lightly, suddenly breaking the silence.
Elena couldn't help but laugh, almost hysterically, at his ability to joke in the aftermath of near death for all of them. Her emotions had been strung along to a snapping point, and she couldn't control the crazed laughter as it almost instantly turned to wracking, gasping sobs. She hid her face in his neck, biting her lip as mightily as she could.
"Hey, hey," Damon almost cooed at her, rubbing his hand soothingly across her back again. "We're okay. We're gonna be just fine," he assured her as her hand slid down to rest under his collar bone. Elena lifted her stiff neck so that she could look into his endless blue eyes, and pulled herself upward to kiss his cheek with reckless abandon, not even thinking about who might be watching. She kissed the very spot that she had slapped just days ago, her lips ghosting over his cheek bone and pressing, closemouthed, against his cool skin.
"We made it," she whispered against him, lightheaded from the sobbing.
"Yes. Yes, we did," he agreed, turning his face so that his forehead rested against hers. He searched her eyes with his, the steel walls completely gone from the pale blue. Elena was content to gaze right back, but a sudden clearing of someone else's throat hit her like a bucket of ice water.
"Stefan," she choked out, bolting upright. "What happened?" she asked, hoping he didn't notice the blood rushing to her already swollen face.
"I finally made it back with the dagger, and stabbed him while Elijah distracted him," he related, glancing behind him to where Elijah was covering the four bodies with the freshly disturbed earth (Elena didn't see Katherine anymore, so she assumed that they had dropped her into the grave as well). He returned his gaze to his brother and Elena, and continued. "Bonnie collapsed at some point, and Tyler got loose, so Caroline let him chase her into the old cellar. Somehow she managed to lock him back up, and she's been camped outside the door ever since. Elijah took care of the other vampire and the warlock, and as you can see, Bonnie finally came around. Which pretty much brings us up to right now," He said dryly, avoiding prolonged eye contact.
Elena nodded mutely, wiping the dirt from her jeans and clambering to her feet as Damon finally sat up. She offered a hand to him, and Damon stood as well, if with a little more difficulty than usual. They all shifted as Elijah joined their circle, dusting his hands off and miraculously looking no more disheveled than usual.
"I believe we are finished here, are we not?" He asked lightly in his usual lilting accent.
"Thank you, Elijah," Elena said sincerely. "We wouldn't all still be here if not for your help."
Elijah merely inclined his head, then briefly turned back to glance at Katherine's ashen body. Elena thought she saw a glimpse of sorrow in his eyes, but it disappeared when he faced them again.
"I must leave you now. It is best that I go. Best wishes to you all, and goodbye." He was gone before Elena could get another word of gratitude out. She frowned, disappointed in how quickly he had gone. Strange as it may be, she had come to respect and even appreciate the company of the particular Original as of late.
A few silent moments later, Bonnie and Jeremy tiredly crossed the clearing to join the group.
"I'm going to take Bonnie home and stay with her the rest of the night. Just in case," he added, and Bonnie didn't protest. She wrapped Elena in a faint hug, her arms weak with fatigue from her incredible exertions. Elena nodded at her, and Jeremy led her in the direction of the car. The trio stood together uncomfortably once more, awkwardly avoiding each other's gazes. Stefan clasped his hands together, finally breaking the silence.
"I think I'm going to check on Caroline, make sure she's handling Tyler alright," he announced, finally looking back and forth between his brother and his girlfriend. "You two should probably go back to the boarding house and get some rest. I'm sure we all look like hell, and the sun should be rising in a few hours. I'll catch up with you later." And kissing Elena chastely on the cheek, he turned and flitted into the woods, disappearing into the darkness.
Elena's shoulders sagged, and she turned to face Damon. Her eyes slowly drifted up to meet his, and she was not quick to rip them away. Tonight could've been the last night she ever saw his crystalline blue eyes, and now that they were safe, she wanted to explore their depths as far as the opportunity allowed. Damon's face, softened but still unreadable, remained still, and he stared right back. After several long seconds, he reached down and wrapped a battered hand around her wrist, pulling her toward the trees.
"Let's go," he spoke, a sigh almost catching in his throat.
"Wait, where's Ric?" Elena asked, glancing around behind her but not pulling her wrist from his grasp.
"He left a minute or two ago. Don't worry, I'm sure our little vampire slayer can take care of himself," he assured in a half-exasperated tone, dragging her further into the woods. They trudged along for what felt like ages before finally reaching Damon's blue camaro, which looked almost silver in the full moonlight. Elena sank into the passenger seat, and Damon cranked the engine, easing off the curb and driving back to the boarding house much slower than usual. The entire ride was silent, but not awkwardly so. Anything that needed to be said between them could wait.
The exhausted pair both nearly tripped their way up the boarding house's main staircase, going their separate ways at the top to get cleaned up. Elena took her time in the shower, letting the hot water ease the knots out of her aching muscles. After drying off and combing her damp hair, she pulled on a ratty t-shirt and some plaid pajama pants and headed for the kitchen, seeking out what was left of her instant hot chocolate stash. As she added marshmallows, she was sure she heard the familiar clinking of a glass tumbler being filled. Grabbing her warm mug, she padded into the parlor to Damon's side. His hair was damp from the shower, and messier than usual. He wore a thin gray shirt and black sweatpants, and Elena thought that she'd never seen him dressed so casually.
"Feeling any better?" she asked, giving him the once over to see for herself.
"For the most part," he answered huskily, swirling his drink with one hand. "I'm sure I'll be fine once I get a drink in me." He then downed half of the tumbler's contents, swallowing slowly and savoring the burn. Tilting his head, he slowly ambled his way back to the staircase, taking one at a time instead of the usual two.
"Where are you going?" Elena asked desperately, feeling unreasonably rejected. She didn't want him to leave her alone after everything that had happened (and almost happened) tonight.
"To bed. Last time I checked, almost dying can really wear anyone out," He said dryly, almost to the top of the stairs.
Elena was silent for a moment, absentmindedly sipping at her chocolate.
"Can – can I come with you?" She asked on impulse, crossing over to the foot of the stairs. Damon's eyebrows drew together with something almost like surprise, but he stopped at the top of the stairs, giving her a searching look and nodding. He kept on walking, and Elena clambered up the stairs, trying to catch up without spilling the hot liquid on herself or the carpeted steps. She followed him into the spacious bedroom that she'd frequented almost more often than Stefan's as of late. Damon ambled over to his bed and tossed back the covers, jerking his head to indicate that she should hop in. Elena set her mug on his bedside table and clambered into the endless bed, sitting cross-legged up against a pillow. Damon effortlessly slid in next to her, leaving a few inches of space between the two of them.
"It's over," Elena finally spoke up, leaning forward slightly and resting her elbows on her thighs. Damon's eyebrows drew together for a fraction of a second, then almost instantly lifted.
"Told you we could take 'em," he replied with his usual cocky smirk. Elena rolled her eyes, but said nothing else, her exhaustion catching up with her in an overwhelming rush. A fierce yawn made her jaw crack, and Damon's eyes were immediately on her. He zeroed in on her cheekbone, and he reached up to tuck her damp hair behind her ear, then trailed his fingertips lightly over the discolored streak under her eye.
"It's not that bad," she muttered, blushing and ducking her head so that her hair fell back over her face. "I'm lucky that's all that happened to me." Damon's languid eyes lingered on hers for a moment longer, before he sank back into his own pillow, drawing the sheets up around them. Hesitating only a moment, Elena uncrossed her legs and slid underneath the covers as well, twisting so that there was no longer any space between them. Damon instantly went rigid as her bare arm rested against his, but quickly relaxed and snatched up her small hand, folding it in his own and intertwining their fingers. They had almost lost each other tonight, and they weren't about to let go.
Elena gave another yawn, then leaned her head into Damon's shoulder, her eyes already falling shut. When her body completely weighed against his arm, he flinched, gently pushing her over toward his chest but not letting go of her hand.
"What's wrong? Are you still hurt?" alarm riddled Elena's sleepy voice. Damon grimaced into the dark, gritting his teeth.
"No," he ground out, failing to keep his voice light, "Just still a bit sore is all. I'll be fine in the morning. So go to sleep and don't worry your pretty little head about it." He assured her in a half-soothing, half-mocking voice (a voice that only he could ever pull off). Not quite convinced, but not up to arguing with someone just as stubborn as she was (if not more), Elena curled into his chest as drifted off, trying to keep guilty thoughts of Stefan away from the corners of her dreams.
… … …
"Guys, we were supposed to be there ten minutes ago!" Elena shouted up the stairs, crossing her arms impatiently. Stefan shot down the steps in a burst of speed almost immediately, coming to a halt a few feet to the right of her and eyeing her with an unreadable expression. Ever since he had come home this morning and found her and Damon having breakfast side by side on the couch, he had been acting differently. Distant; reserved; polite – as if he knew that something insurmountable and irreparable had passed between Elena and himself last night. As if he knew that there was nothing he could do but let go. Elena felt this too, and more, but she had been through so much in the past 24 hours that she didn't have the desire or capability to confront their situation (or lack thereof) today. Maybe not even tomorrow. But she knew she would have to, and soon.
Damon flickered down the stairs as well, interrupting her dread – ridden train of thought. He wobbled for a second, seemingly off-balance; his usually crystal clear eyes almost appeared cloudy and glazed over – like a human would look if he had a head cold. Elena's forehead wrinkled in concern, and she put an arm out to steady him. When he regained his balance, he shot her a too-bright smirk, barely masking his embarrassment.
"Well, let's go then, if the lady is so opposed to being fashionably late," he drawled with a roll of his eyes. Elena shook her head, unable to clear the uneasiness from her mind, but followed the brothers out the door nevertheless.
… … …
In any other situation, Elena would have been able to lose herself in the movie playing on the big screen on the lawn of Mystic Falls's only park; but tonight, she couldn't. It was dark. It was crowded. There were some concerned stirrings as thunder rumbled in the distance. Stefan was stretched out on the blanket next to her comfortably, but he wasn't touching her. Bonnie and Jeremy looked cozy a few yards over. But Damon was missing.
Damon was missing.
Once they had arrived on the scene of the Gone with the Wind screening at the park, he had moseyed off in a different direction from Elena and Stefan, wiping an unusual sheen from his brow and disappearing behind some shrubbery. Elena had assumed that he'd come right back, but that had been 3 hours ago. Once an hour had passed, Elena had been nervously checking her watch every five minutes, inwardly cringing as the time passed at a snail's pace. The sky grew darker as the sun disappeared behind the distant mountains, and the air grew humid instead of cooler as it should have. Worry had knotted in Elena's stomach like an iron fist, and she grew more restless with each passing minute.
"Okay, that's it," she announced, pushing herself to her feet and frowning. "I'm going to find Damon."
Stefan gave her a long, weary look before speaking. "He's Damon, Elena. I'm sure he can take care of himself. He's probably out at The Grill compelling a fourth glass of bourbon from the bartender."
Elena crossed her arms, already half-turned away. "He seemed a bit off this morning. I don't know much about the inner workings of a vampire, but he didn't seem like he was feeling so good. I'll be back in a little bit, okay?" and she walked toward the trees without waiting for a reply.
Elena walked around the perimeter of the abandoned half of the park, her eyes darting back and forth furtively. She didn't know why she was worried; Klaus was dead, as well as his evil witches, and there was no longer any Katherine to worry about, loose cannon that she was. Even so, she would feel much safer if she could just find Damon, for god's sake.
"Damon?" she called out, then bit her lip, almost regretting making her presence known. She stole a paranoid glace behind her, and tripped over a tree root pushing out of the ground. Her hands flew out to break her fall, and she tumbled, hitting the ground knees first and falling on her side. She groaned, lying still for a moment before pushing herself up on her hands and knees, hanging her head.
"Katherine?" a thick voice came from above her, a few feet away. "Katherine, what are you doing down there?"
"Damon, what are you talking about? Katherine's dead, remember?" Elena reminded him, alarmed at his appearance. His face was shining with sweat, his eyes were too bright, and he stumbled toward her in a crooked line.
"Damon? It's me. It's Elena." Elena's brows drew together, then lifted in fear. What was wrong with him? It's almost like he was…
Damon offered a hand to her, and she tentatively took it, clambering to her feet. Damon didn't release her hand, and he stood just inches from her, his eyes imploring. "Katherine, why do you carry on with Stefan so? Is my love not enough for you? Am I not good enough?" He asked pitifully, his voice cracking near the end of the question. Elena's eyes burned, and she felt tears pricking at her lids. Why was he hallucinating? What had happened to him? And the sheer pain in his voice, dear god…it was enough to break any compassionate heart.
"Damon, Damon look at me! It's Elena. Remember? I slapped you the first time you tried to kiss me. You saved me from a vampire one night when I wrecked my car. We danced together, remember that? When we danced, and I couldn't take my eyes off you? And you took an arrow for me that one time, even though I said I hated you. But I didn't mean it." She broke off, sucking in a ragged breath and taking his other hand, hoping the lost look in his eyes would clear. "And remember that night, after you rescued me from being kidnapped, and you told me…" she sniffled, wiping away a falling tear with her knuckle, "…you told me that you loved me, but compelled me to forget? Even though I didn't really forget, Damon. It didn't work. But I – god I was so stupid – pretended I forgot, because I didn't know how to deal with the way I felt about you…and now…and now-"
Damon blinked, and it was as if a curtain had been lifted. "Elena?" he coughed out, wheezing and convulsing. "Elena – oh god – I'm so sorry, I…" Thunder rolled, and Elena's eyes, wet with relief, dropped down. And then she saw it.
The wound was a deep purple, pulsating sluggishly near the crook of his elbow. There were two festering, open sores at the heart of the wound…where the teeth had punctured his skin. Teeth. Werewolves. A werewolf bite. The word "fatal" instantly started ringing in Elena's head, and the tears welled up again with fresh vigor.
"Damon! No! Oh no…oh no no no…" she choked, tears soaking her cheeks. She threw her arms around him, crying into his already damp black shirt. "You can't die…you can't! This isn't happening! Why didn't you say anything?"
"I didn't want to worry you," he replied in a low voice, stumbling into her and wrapping one arm around her back. He bent his head, resting his chin on her shoulder.
"I might not've gotten to say goodbye, Damon! Do you know how much that would kill me? Haunt me for the rest of my life? I can't lose you! You're not going to d-die. You're just not!" She shook her head fervently, like doing so would make what she said true.
"Elena," he breathed, his breath catching in his throat. "There's nothing we can do." He was silent for a moment, firmly pressing his lips together. "Was I really just that out of it, or did I hear you say that you remembered…?" he asked, pulling back to look her in the face.
Elena nodded, a few tears still falling from her eyes. "I remember," she said in a thick voice, sniffing. "I got home and drank some vervain tea that night before I went to sleep. I was afraid Rose or someone else would come back to get me. But instead, you were the one who showed up. And after what you said, I was completely stunned, and overwhelmed, and you left so fast…" she paused to steady her breathing. "I didn't know how to handle it. I didn't understand how I felt. I'm – I'm so sorry I never told you that-"
Damon gave a guttural cough, and his knees gave out. He fell away from Elena's arms, crumpling to the ground. He seemed to be even more alarmingly pale than he had just minutes ago, and Elena hurriedly bent down beside him, pulling his lolling head into her lap.
"Sorry," he coughed out, his eyes rolling up slowly to meet hers. "I'm sorry for so many things, Elena, you don't even know-"
"Shh, shh, it's okay, Damon. It's okay," she whispered, her voice breaking as her tears silently dripped onto his shoulder. "I forgive you. I'll always forgive you, no matter how hard I try not to. I could never hate you, Damon, no matter what I've said or done."
A more peaceful, eerily calm expression crossed his features, and he relaxed against her, closing his eyes. She knew he was slipping fast; she didn't have much time left with him.
"And what I was saying before," she paused, drawing a deep breath to steady herself. "I was going to say I'm so sorry that I never told you…that I love you, too."
Damon's cloudy blue eyes slowly opened, searching her face, almost disbelievingly. But whatever he saw in her expression must have made him realize the truth in her words, and he parted his dry, cracked lips to say one thing more.
"I…love you…so much, Elena. I…always will. Please…don't forget me."
"I could never forget you, Damon!" Elena sobbed, her lower lip trembling. Blinking the tears away, she bent her face so that it was inches from his, resting her forehead against his. She looked into his endless eyes for a long moment before closing her own and pressing her lips softly, carefully against his, kissing him with every ounce of emotion she could muster. But she wouldn't let it be the last. She wouldn't.
Damon looked up at her in awestruck wonder when she pulled away, her lips lingering against his before she moved back to look him in the eyes again. A perfect moment hung between them before he turned his head to the side, coughing blood violently onto the grass. Panic rose in Elena again, and she cradled his dark head in her hands, shaking.
"Stefan!" she shouted, not knowing what else to do. She knew he would hear her over the crowd. "Stefan!"
Seconds passed before he was running the last few yards toward her, his eyes wide with alarm.
"Oh, my god, Damon! What's wrong with him?" He asked frantically, turning to Elena.
"He got bitten by a werewolf last night," she answered mournfully, not looking up. He doesn't have much longer."
Stefan cringed at the misery, the desolation in Elena's voice. He bent down next to his brother, the one person he thought he'd always have on this hellish journey. His brother, Damon. Who was dying.
Stefan rose once more, shaking his head. "I'm going to get Bonnie. I'll be right back. There has to be a way out of it. A loophole. Anything to buy us more time. I'll come right back, I promise," he said, more to Damon than Elena.
Damon wheezed, unable to watch his brother flicker out of sight. "I…it's okay, Elena…I've lived long enough-"
"No! Don't talk that way, Damon! I'm not gonna let this happen. You aren't going to die. You're going to stay right here. With me. We're going to get through this, Damon, I promise. We'll find a cure. We'll make it through this, do you hear me?" He nodded weakly, and she took his hand, determined to not let him go.
She never did.
… … …
` Please be the absolutely amazing readers I know you all can be and leave me a review telling me what you think!