This is the sequel to 'Halo: The End of the Beginning'. You should probably read that first so you know the context of this one. Link in my story profile. It's just a two-shot so it should only take a few minutes to read.
Part One: It Is What It Is.
Carefully I pull Jack's bedroom door closed so as not to wake him up. Taking a breath, I push my back against his door and slide down the wall. Dropping my face into my hands, I don't know what to do. I'm so confused about everything. I just wish I knew if she loved me for me or if she's using me for his replacement since I carry his heart inside of my chest. I'm so in love with her but yet, I can't, no I won't be with her if it's only him she sees when she looks at me or only him she's imagining when I'm inside of her. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I guess I always wondered if it was her life with him that she's hanging onto. Not wanting her to find me like this, I get up and go downstairs. She went to our bedroom after I told her that I would tuck Jack into bed.
The boy is already four years old. I met him and Elena just after he turned two, about a year and a half after I got Matt's heart. I wanted to thank her personally for donating the gift of life to me. But when I felt her spread palm against my chest, I felt so many things in just that moment. It was electric. Sure, I was a bit of a Casanova in high school but that was before I had the massive heart attack which necessitated the transplant. I was pretty much trapped in my home tethered to an oxygen machine after that. My parents hired a tutor to help me get my high school diploma. I did take college courses on line till I got Matt's heart. After I was feeling good and sufficiently healed, I was able to attend college like everyone else.
What placed these doubts in my mind about us? For whatever reason, whether to honor his memory or to keep him alive, I don't know but his study is exactly as it was the last time he was in it. Although she hasn't come out and told me to stay out of that room, it's door is always, always closed unless she's in there. I don't even know if she's aware of how it makes me feel. On that day, I came home from work early. I looked all over downstairs and couldn't find her. When I walked upstairs, I heard her voice as I approached that room. Unable to stop myself, I peaked into it. Although her back wasn't facing me, her eyes were closed so she didn't notice my voyeurism I guess you could call it. It's like she was in her own little world where only she and Matt exist. In her hands was his picture clutched tightly against her chest. I could see the moisture on her cheeks and hear her whispering how much she loves and misses him. Knowing that I can't compete with a ghost, I backed away on knees that could hardly carry me and left the house.
I know I love her and Jack too with every fiber of my being but I'm not him nor will I ever be. It sickens me to be jealous of his memory. I can't hate him because the only reason I'm standing here is because his heart beats inside of my chest. Looking around, I live in his house with his wife and his son and I feel like a thief. Feeling beads of perspiration begin to form on my brow, I wipe them away while at the same time a twinge of nausea settles in my stomach. Knowing that I'm going to hurl, I hurry to the bathroom, spilling my dinner into the toilet. Collapsing to the floor, I drop my chin to my chest. Suddenly I feel like crap again. I know something is very wrong with me because I've been feeling sick on and off for a couple of weeks now. Since I know that I can't put it off any longer, I make up my mind to give my doctor a call the next morning.
Exhausted by the weight of all that's on my mind, I walk into our room, quickly take a shower and then crawl into our bed. Not long after, I feel the bed dip when she crawls in herself. When I feel her hand on my cheek, my heart starts pounding against my chest. I try to pretend that I'm asleep but I've always been lousy at playing possum.
"You feel really warm, Damon. Do you have a fever?"
"I didn't check."
"I'll go get the thermometer."
"No, Elena, I'm just really tired okay?"
"But Damon, I think we should check it."
"Elena, I'm going to sleep. Goodnight now," I whisper, rolling over so my back is to her front. I release a silent sigh when I feel her drape an arm around my middle.
"I love you, Damon."
"I love you too, Elena. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," she whispers, pressing a kiss to the skin between my shoulder blades.
When I wake up the next morning, she's still sleeping so I slowly get out of bed and hurry downstairs to call my doctor. Nodding along when he tells me to go to the emergency room, I quickly write Elena a note and tell her that I'm going to go to visit my parents in Virginia Beach for a couple of days. And that's where my doctor happens to be so rather than go to the ED here in Mystic Falls, I decide to go home. Plus there's the fact that I just don't want her to worry about me. She has enough on her mind as is. Sneaking back into our bedroom, I lay the envelope on my pillow then tiptoe in the closet to grab a few things. As soon as I finish I hurry to leave before she wakes up. Jumping into my car, I breathe a huge sigh of relief that I made it out of there without having to face her. Although I'm no coward, if something is wrong with my heart, she doesn't need to know. Honestly, it's probably the biggest reason why she gave me a second glance and invited me to share her life. Pushing that aside for now, I roll down the window and turn the radio on. Suddenly feeling nauseous again, I have to pull over to the side of the road, losing only bile onto the gravel beneath me.
As soon as I see a gas station, I pull in, fill my tank and grab a bottle of water to rinse my mouth out. Even water doesn't sit right in my gut. Picking up my cellphone, I call my dad to tell him that I'm going to the emergency room. After he reassures me that he and mom will meet me there, I jump back in my car, fortunately my stomach settles a bit by the time I pull into the emergency department parking lot in Virginia Beach. Feeling fatigued already, I walk in, immediately accosted by my parents. Mom places her hand to my head and she knows that I'm feverish.
"Damon, how long have you felt sick?"
"Not for very long. Just for the last week or two."
"Have you been taking your medication?"
"Yes, of course, mom. But with the nausea and vomiting, I don't know how many of them stayed down."
"Come let's get you registered so you can be seen," she says, latching on my arm almost as if I was still her little boy. When it's my turn to sit at the window, I give the clerk all of my information. Before long, the nurse takes me and my parents back to an exam room. After taking my medical history and asking about what brought me to the ED, lab comes into draw my blood. The next thing I know, I'm being wheeled to cardiac services to have an echocardiogram done. By the time that's done, I feel so tired. Once I get back to my exam room, Dr. Thompson is talking to my parents. He's been my cardiologist since I died on the basketball court that fateful day.
"Damon," he says, extending his hand for me to shake.
"Well, what's the bad word?"
"Looking at what you told the nurse, combined with your lab work, I believe this is acute on top of chronic transplant rejection. You've been very fortunate so far and have been pretty healthy since you had your transplant. But the human immune system is very complicated. It enables you to defend your body against invasion by foreign protein substances, whether in disease-causing microbes or transplanted organs from another human being who is not genetically identical. In a healthy immune system, white blood cells circulate through the body looking for foreign invaders like bacteria or viruses. If a foreign invader enters your body, perhaps through a skin cut, your immune system automatically sees it as a threat and attacks it. Unfortunately your heart is also foreign and your immune system treats it the same as it would a bacteria or virus. Rejection is your body's attempt to protect you by attacking a foreign protein that has entered your body."
"What do we do about it? Am I going to have to go on a transplant list again?"
"Don't get ahead of yourself. Acute rejection isn't at all uncommon. Currently the only way to diagnose rejection is for us to do a heart biopsy. You know this, Damon. You've had them before. There is nothing other than taking the prescribed medications that you can do to prevent this from happening. Treatment for rejection is determined by severity and the time interval since transplantation. But Damon, currently there are no available methods to suppress your body's response to a foreign organ without also impairing its response to infections."
"So what happens after the biopsy?"
"It depends on the severity of the rejection, Damon. I'm going to write admitting orders. I'm going to order you to be NPO or nothing by mouth in case you didn't remember that. I'll schedule the biopsy for later this afternoon. Have you eaten anything today? I know it's scary even at your advanced age," he teases, "but early treatment is critical to successfully reversing rejection. Most episodes can be reversed if we are able to treat early. Treatment may include giving you high doses of intravenous steroids called Solumedrol, changing the dosages of your anti-rejection medications, or adding new medications. Severe or persistent rejections may require treatment with powerful medications and/or plasmapheresis. It's a procedure in which antibodies are removed from your blood. Again, Damon, I have to stress that early treatment is critical to successfully reversing rejection."
"How long will I be in the hospital? I told my girlfriend that I was going to visit mom and dad for a couple of days. She doesn't know that I haven't been feeling well."
"It depends on how aggressively we have to treat this, Damon. It says here that you've had some fevers too?"
"I haven't been feeling the best."
"Your lab work is still pending. I'm going to have them do blood and urine cultures as well. And because your immune system is compromised, I'm going to order neutropenic precautions. Aside from all of this, have you eaten today?"
"No, I've been sick to my stomach for a few days. I just had a few swallows of water to rinse out my mouth after losing a bunch of bile on the way over here."
"Alright then. I'm going to go call endoscopy to see what time I can do your biopsy. I'll be back shortly."
"Thank you, Dr. Thompson."
"You're welcome, Damon. They'll be taking you to a room soon. Try to get some rest okay?"
"Sure," I agree, letting out a breath. After giving me one more nod, he leaves the three of us alone.
"You two don't have to stay you know. I'm a big boy."
"Of course you are, Damon. Why didn't you tell Elena that you're feeling ill?"
"Because this is or was her husband's heart that I'm carrying inside of me. I don't want her to know that my body may be rejecting it. I'm so confused, mom."
"Why? Elena and Jack love you," dad adds, looking at me pointedly.
"Do they or is Matt's heart that they love?"
"What makes you doubt her suddenly?"
"Little things, dad. I find her talking to him often, holding his picture to her heart. I know it's me she goes to bed with but is she wishing or imagining me to be him?"
"Oh Damon. You need to talk to her about what you're feeling. Perhaps you're misinterpreting some of what you saw?"
"I'm afraid, mom. I love her, I don't want to let her go. But by the same token, I want her to love me for me and not because it's her dead husband's heart that beats inside of my chest."
Standing up, she walks over to the exam table that I'm sitting on and wraps me in her arms, embracing me like she always did when I was little to make me feel better. Closing my eyes, I just let myself be comforted for a few moments. When there's knock on the door, she steps back, but takes my hand in hers.
"Mr. Salvatore, I'm here to take you to your room upstairs."
Nodding, I get up and sit in the wheelchair. Even though I feel the chair moving, my head is a chaotic mess. Between my health and my heart, I just wish I could curl up in some corner and forget about everything for just a little while.
"Good morning," I whisper, pulling her back to my front. Lifting her curtain of hair, I start to press kisses to the back of her swan-like neck. My woman is so damn beautiful.
"Mmm," she murmurs, wiggling her pert little bottom against my morning wood.
With my hand, I reach under her flowy pajama top to cup one of her breasts. They're the perfect size to fit in my palm. With my thumb and forefinger, I tease her nipple till it's erect. I move in closer, press open mouthed kisses to the space between her neck and shoulder and that spot just behind her ear that seems to drive women wild.
Unable to wait any longer, I throw her leg over my hip to open her up and then slide inside her already drenched core. The exquisiteness of her is beyond words. She's truly my Aphrodite. I love her so very much and I try to tell her and show her in the way I make love to her. In and out, round and round, I swivel my hips trying to hit that spot that drives her wild. She's rocking her hips to meet my thrusts. Her moans and groans and colorful metaphors fill the room. I have to laugh because the only time she swears is when we're making love and when she's close to her release. Placing my hand at the apex of her thighs, I stroke her most sensitive spot and in the next moment, she cries aloud, her body stiffens and she trembles like a magnitude ten earthquake. I've never seen her more beautiful than when she surrenders herself to the throes of passion.
Needing my own release, I roll her onto her tummy, cover her with my body and drive into her, my hips piston like a well oiled machine. A few strokes later, I scream her name aloud, my body freezes and then I tremor as if I was seizuring. As soon as I can move, I pull out and roll onto my back till I get my bearings again. Wanting her in my arms, I roll onto my side and pull her close once more, pressing a quick kiss to the back of her shoulders.
"I love you, Elena," I whisper, my arms holding her snug against me.
"I love you too, Matt."
Waking up with a start, I lurch upright. That morning was so beautiful till she called me Matt. In fairness, she was almost asleep but it still cut deep and to this day, it still hurts intensely when I think about it. When I said something to her, she apologized, claiming she was nearly asleep but that doesn't change the fact that she said his name after I made love to her. Raking my hand through my hair, I throw my legs over the side of the bed to get up to go to the bathroom. Just as I'm about to stand up, my cellphone rings. Picking it up, I see that it's her.
"Hello, Elena."
"Damon, you didn't call last night. I wanted to see if everything was alright?"
"I'm sorry. I was so tired last night. Mom and dad took me out to eat and then I went straight to bed after we came home."
"Is everything okay, Damon? You seem kind of distant lately."
"Everything is fine, Elena. Don't worry, okay?"
"I love you, Damon. Of course I'm going to worry. Jack has been asking about you too."
"I love you too, Elena. I'll be home in a couple of days."
"I hope you know that you can share whatever it is with me. We're supposed to confide in each other."
"Elena, don't do that. Nothing is wrong, okay? I just wanted to spend a couple of days with mom and dad plus I had my scheduled doctor appointment."
"I forgot all about that. Is everything alright?"
"Yes, Elena. Listen I have to go now. Mom is calling me. I'll call you tonight."
"Alright. Goodbye, Damon. I love you."
"Me too, bye now," I add, clicking off the phone before she can say anything else. When I get back from the bathroom, Dr. Thompson is walking in, his nose buried in my chart.
"Good morning, Damon."
"What's the bad word?" I ask, bracing myself for the bad news.
"The pathologist reviewed the tissue slide. The diagnosis of rejection rates the presence and severity of rejection based in the International Society and Heart Lung Transplant Scale. He rates your level of reject as '2R' which means moderate rejection. We'll be giving you high doses of intravenous steroids. It's called Solumedrol. Then I'm going to raise the dose of your immunosuppressive drugs. You also have had fevers and nausea and vomiting. Even though you have an occult infection, your white cell count is low. I talked to an infectious disease specialist, Dr. Elijah Mikaelson. I've asked him to consult on your case. He'll be in to see you sometime today. It was his suggestion that I order the antibiotics. You should have gotten a couple of doses of it through your IV by now."
"I did. How long will I have to be here?"
"At least a few days, Damon."
"I can take the steroids and antibiotics by mouth so I can get back to Mystic Falls?"
"I suppose you could check yourself into the Mystic Falls hospital but Damon we need to give these steroids IV for at least a couple of days."
"Fine, I'll just tell my girlfriend that I'm staying at my folks for a couple of extra days."
"If I'm in the building, I'll stop in later otherwise I'll see you tomorrow."
"Thanks, Dr. Thompson."
"Oh and I asked Dr. Winchester, your transplant surgeon, to consult on your case. He's out of town till tomorrow but I did talk to him on the phone. He advised me to order the steroids."
"That's probably a good idea."
"It is. Get some rest. I'll see you later," he adds then leaves me alone.
Getting up, I walk over to the window to look outside. It's a beautiful day but I feel dark inside because I know that I have to say goodbye to Elena. Despite what the doctor says, I know this is serious. I won't allow her to watch me die. She already lost Matt tragically. And I can't let her know that my body is rejecting his heart, the heart that drew her to me. Leaning against the wall, I close my eyes and for the first time, I let my tears fall.
There you have part 1.
A big thanks to Eva for all of your help with this. I don't know how many times we went back and forth trying to get this story right.
I hope you all like this. This story is short. Part 2 is huge-ish and will be in Elena's POV.
Neutropenic precautions are protective isolation. Neutropenic means a low white blood cell count. We have to wear gowns and gloves and masks when we go into the patient's room.
Echocardiogram: A test of the action of the heart using ultrasound waves to produce a visual display, used for diagnosis and monitoring of heart disease.
Chapter title: 'It Is What It Is' by Lifehouse.
I did update 'Nothing Left to Fear' yesterday. We're nearing the end of 'Angels Fall' and 'Dig'. As soon as they're done, I will start regularly posting 'Turn the Page'. I did start a facebook page for my stories. facebook scarlett2112 fanfiction if you're interested.
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