Pairings: Stefan/Elena Romance, Damon/Elena friendship.
Rating: Mature for brief mentions of violence, blood play, and sexual content.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. This is for entertainment purposes only.
Summary: Forgiveness won't be easy to come by after what she asked of Stefan that night, for any of them.
A/N Set post 3x22, Spoilers. Just a little of what I hope we get next season from Vamp!Elena.
-x-
Elena comes to with a gasp, her lungs burning and starving for air. Awareness returns to her in a flood of memories breaking through her consciousness. Her last moments with her parents, struggling against seatbelts and sealed windows and doors handles as water fills the car, until desperation finally gives way to resignation. The first in a string of loses for her, how many loses ago.
Stefan is there sitting beside her at arms-length. His features are stark against the blue florescent lights, his eyes glossy and stricken. And other memories surface of his urgent protests over Matt's lifeless body floating beside her, until finally he relents and saves her friend while leaving her behind. And she thinks at last someone heard her and understood.
Then there is Damon, always breaking through doors to reach her, and there are new memories. Memories he took from her, telling her stories of a love that consumes.
A shiver runs through her, a little from the damp hair and clothes, but mostly from the need/hunger/ache flowing through her like a current, her body screaming to feed. She looks at the blood bag in Damon's waiting hand, then to Stefan's eyes clenched shut. And for a moment she wonders if it's his hunger or his regret that he's struggling through.
Other memories surface of a night years ago as she watched helpless while Damon fed from Bonnie. Then another night months ago as she watched helpless while Stefan fed from her two classmates- before turning on her. She still has nightmares of sharp teeth gleaming in the darkness, blood spilled in red trails.
She never wanted this for herself.
She thinks of Caroline and Tyler, and the choice they made to survive their transition. And there is Bill, who made the choice to hold on to his humanity and let himself die.
Then she thinks of Bonnie, Jeremy, and Matt, and knows she can't make a choice that would ever separate herself from them. Not after everything they've fought through together.
She takes in the brothers on either side of her, and somehow it seems it was always meant to come to this. Living with vampires, inviting them into her life. She was always going to have to make this choice, to live with them as a vampire, or leave them as a human.
In the end she knows there was only one decision for her to make.
-x-
It's like 1864 all over again, and this time it's Elena, rather than Katherine who drives a wedge between the brothers. Only instead of leaving, Damon's decides to stay.
He reverts to his old ways of day drinking, late night hook ups, and secretive diabolical planning. He wraps himself in his anger, and lays it at Stefan's feet. Late nights of alcohol fueled arguments, and Damon's biting words of accusation are nothing new between them. Only instead of Katherine's name, it's Elena's he uses as his choice of weapon. What would have been, what should have been. The difference in how he would have had it.
-x-
Stefan doesn't revert. He withstands Damon's anger and resentment like he always has, deflecting it where he can, and internalizing it where he can't.
He carries the memory of finding Elena's lifeless body in the water, his frantic attempts to revive her, and his devastation at learning she will live out her worst nightmare (his darkest dream). He takes in everything she feels, every loss, every struggle, her grief for her human life.
Stefan internalizes it all, until finally something inside shifts.
-x-
Elena vacillates. She watches Bonnie and Caroline, Tyler and Matt make their plans for graduation, wrestling with questions of college and career, and who they are and what they want to be. She struggles with the same questions, and the notion never leaves her that it wasn't supposed to be this way for her.
She knows only one thing for sure anymore, the choice she made that saved Matt's life she would make all over again a hundred times over, she won't lose anyone else she loves. She knows she made the right choice.
But she watches the growing rift between the Salvatores, and she knows. Forgiveness won't be easy to come by after what she asked of Stefan that night, for any of them.
-x-
There are times when it feels like there is no end to the hunger. She seeks Stefan out in these moments, and he sets out to teach her to hunt the wildlife in the forest. They're learning to sustain on blood bags together, but sometimes the need/hunger/desperation always there beneath the surface won't be sated. Hunger Stefan knows well and she now shares with him, the desires of a predator, hunt, prey, kill.
They tear through the forest wild life, blood dripping from their lips and fingertips. Stefan gives chase through wilderness, and her heart pounds against her chest in her pursuit. Her body is surging as she chases his shadow through the trees, until finally she pounces and pins him to the forest ground (it's deliberate, she knows he faltered at just the right moment to be caught). She grasps him to her, and brings their mouths together to share bloody kisses, only this time it's not her blood on his lips, and it's the both of them savoring in the rich copper taste.
The veins around Stefan's eyes swell and darken as his fangs descend and scrape against hers, the way he never would allow before. Not even when she offered him small samples her blood (except for that once, she still remembers, she reminds herself it's important to). His arms draw her in intimately close, framing himself to her, fitting their bodies together like puzzle pieces the way they always have, the jagged edges that much more pronounced between them.
The heat of his touch radiates though her, seeping through her skin and flowing through her. And she feels it resonate, an echo of other embraces they've shared, on the top of a mountain, in the back alley of Chicago, catching her after a fall from the rafters.
It's familiar, and tainted, and always leaves her wanting more.
This is her holding on.
-x-
There are times when it's too much, and the hunger calls to her until that is all there is, the need for bloodbloodblood. Damon always seems to find her in these moments, and sets out to drive them out of town for some late night hunting.
In a back alley with a young man unfortunate enough to be there, Damon shares with her what he wanted to share with Stefan, the practice of catch and release, thriving over surviving. With a hand on her shoulder he guilds her to the dripping bite marks he pierces on the neck of their victim, and lets her drink and drink until that steady heartbeat begins to slow and falter. He pulls her away at just the right moment, offering his blood to heal before compelling their victim to forget and leave.
And it's like being torn from a glorious free fall. Her skin feels tight everywhere, crawling with need, until it takes on a life of its own. Damon knows, always seems to know what she doesn't what him to. Because he's touching her hair and face, leaning in to press her against the brick wall behind her, and she can't find it in her to resist. Initially she doesn't, because everything is heightened and blurred together, the hunger/desperation/lust.
She can almost see it play out before her. It's not the first time she's thought about it, the two of them together like this. Damon's touch is scorching, consuming her, consuming those he reaches for. Like her touch she thinks to herself, remembering those she has loved who've slipped through her fingers.
And out of all the times she's told him they share this understanding, she never felt it as deeply as she does now. It's then she does resist, because it's a fragile understanding they share, easily shattered.
This is her holding on.
-x-
Elena's first memories are of a glowing night light and her favorite flannel blanket as her father reads her to sleep. Fairytales of heroes and heroines exploring far away worlds, the words play out behind her closed her eyes and follow her into her dreams.
On her tenth birthday her mother gives her her first diary, encouraging her to write stories of her own journey as it unfolds before her. Pen to paper, she writes of worlds she sees behind her eyes.
Now she'll be eighteen forever. She's no longer that girl who once believed in fairytales. Her diary remains untouched on a shelf in her room, has since her parents died. Every time she tries to picks it up she feels their absence, re-reading pages she'd written when they were here with her. Now when she reads these passages she has keep from tearing the pages from the binder.
With every day that passes, it like reading the words of a stranger.
-x-
Elena struggles under the weight of how much has changed. She feels the depth of every joy, every loss, every pull of hunger. Its then she slips.
It starts out as another hunting trip in the forest, this time on her own. And she shouldn't be here, she realizes to late when her ears pick up on the voices of campers in the distance, and the predator inside takes over. She pounces and latches on to the neck of the closest human, first the man, then the woman, whose only mistake was being in the wrong place at the wrong time, when she's lost and alone, and the sound of their steady heartbeats calls to her. She drinks until each heartbeat slows into silence, and it's over before it's started.
After she kneels beside the bodies, and stares into their lifeless eyes. The switch inside flickers, and she can't decide which is worse, feeling the brilliance of everything, or the emptiness of nothing.
The moon crests high in the sky when she makes her way home. She locks herself in the bathroom, and sits at the edge of the bath waiting for the water to fill. And she can still hear the screams echo in her ears, can still see the fear in their wide eyes, and smell the pungent fragrance of blood everywhere around her. But she can't feel any of it, like she watched it all play out from a remote place in her mind.
From the corner of her eye she takes in her reflection in the mirror, her face and clothes smeared with dark red streaks of blood, and it's like Katherine is there looking back at her. She thinks back on the first time she saw the shadow of Katherine over John's body, and she wonders if what they say about doppelgangers isn't true, if Katherine wasn't always meant to be her prophecy. She was a girl with a family, like Katherine was once, before she was a vampire torn between the Salvatore brothers.
-x-
Stefan finds her the next morning, at the ledge of Wickery Bridge tossing dandelions into the water. He doesn't say anything as he sits beside her, silently watching with her as the flowers swirl in the current of the water below.
He doesn't say anything about finding her here with all of its history. And she wonders which night he might be reliving, the night he saved her life, the night he fed her his blood and threatened to drive them over the edge, or the night he saved her friend and watched her die.
She doesn't say anything about the overnight news reports of an animal attack leaving two campers dead in the forest. And doesn't say how every time she closes her eyes all she can see are red stains of blood.
When she opens her eyes again she meets his gaze, his dark green irises simmering with emotion. He already knows everything and has taken it onto himself, the way he does. She would know better than anyone, having herself experienced both his best and his worst. That's something she thinks she can share with him now, with fresh memories her own worst.
Instead in the quiet stillness of the moment she tells him she still thinks about the words she shared with him the night of the the ritual. She was a daughter, a sister, a friend, a girl with a life time of choices ahead of her. Now that girl feels lost to her.
Reaching for her hand, Stefan entangles his fingers with hers. He tells her that she's still that girl she holdings on to, deep down. Only now she'll be more. And she'll have life times before her.
But she still hears other words he shared with her that day echo in her ears. I'm still trying. Every day.
-x-
Damon finds her later that evening, swaying on her porch swing. She's been here for hours, considering whether to remaining out here or go inside. She still feels at a lost.
He sits beside her on the swing and wraps an arm around her shoulder, holding her close to him the way he does. She feels the charge beneath her skin, and quickly stands to slip out from beneath his touch.
Damon quirks an eyebrow, but doesn't question her sudden movements from him, it's all part of their usual push and pull. And he doesn't say anything about finding here out here, lurking on her porch like a stranger.
She doesn't say anything about him showing up here, checking on her like the good guy he tries to hide away from the world. And his flirting touches she's long since ceased to question, it's harmless until he means it; this is not one of those times.
Instead he tells her he's taking her hunting. Catch and release like they tried before, they'll try again. And for a moment she considers it, really considers it. It would be so easy to lose herself again, and drown out all of her doubts with the taste of blood In her mouth. Satisfy the blood lust and close it all off in a remote corner of her mind.
But she doesn't want it easy, she never did. She needs it to matter because it did once. Because she feels that much further from the girl she holds on to.
She turns to go inside and Damon is there standing before her, looking her over with blue, piercing eyes. It's then she sees it, the hint of resignation there. He always knows what she doesn't what him to.
As much as she wants it to matter for herself, it's something he let go of a long ago. He enjoys the edge, relishes in predators they are underneath their skin. Her still fresh memories of screams and blood and tears only serve to remind her, deep down that's not how she's built, vampire or not. And that is their divide.
But she still remembers other words he once shared with her the night Stefan made his sacrifice to Klaus for his brother's life. No one forced me to love her. It was my own choice. I made the wrong choice.
-x-
They graduate on a Thursday afternoon in May, with caps and gowns and speeches about endings leading to new beginnings. And one by one Elena watches as her friends walk the stage and collect their diplomas.
Matt's received a football scholarship at the University, and he's talking about signing up for classes in the fall.
Bonnie's befriended a professor who once taught with her Grams, and she's also talking about studying at the University.
Tyler and Caroline talk about traveling, starting in Europe and from there, wherever. They have nothing but time and the world before them.
Her eyes catch Jeremy out in the audience. Taller, stronger, he's grown into the man of the house, as protective and stoic as their father (her real father, if not her biological father).
Elena looks around and takes in all of the changes around her, and she remembers the words Stefan shared with her that morning he found her at Wickery Bridge.
She'll have lifetimes.
-x-
On an overcast June morning Elena packs a bag and leaves Mystic Falls, taking a page from Tyler and Caroline. She leaves a note behind explaining her sudden departure, and why she couldn't say goodbye in person (she won't get through this if she has to look her friends and brother in the eye to say goodbye, even if it's just goodbye for a while.)
And it's a string of roadside cafes, bars, and run down motels, one small town after another. Along the way she picks up post cards, writes down her thoughts in the moment and sends them back to Mystic Falls.
She drives for days on long stretches of highway, wild grass and road side signs passing her by. She switches from one classic radio station to another, and remembers stories Stefan once shared with her about his better years, driving the country coast to coast in the 60's, finally comfortable in his skin after decades of abstaining.
She replays his words and watches the scenery pass her by, considering the decades she'll live through, with endless years and miles of road she has before her.
-x-
She visits Caroline and Tyler in Europe, and decides to stay and tour every Capital on her own.
She'll never known how because he'll never say, but Damon tracks her down in Paris. One day he's there dressed in black leather and dark denim, leaning against the bar next door to the hostel where she's staying. And when she sees him she drops her purse and bags on the ground and closes the distance between them, welcoming his familiar presence after months of unfamiliar.
They spend days touring the museums of the city, and the open attention and admiration he pays to the illusionary Impressionist paintings and ornate Baroque sculptures surprises her only at first, until she remembers the worn copy of Gone With the Wind she found that one time on his night table. Damon always was a closeted romantic.
They spend their evenings walking the bustling streets of the Latin Quarter, drinking hard liquors (Damon's favorites) and eating rich local dishes (her favorites). Enjoying the rhythmic music and combination of languages in the back ground, they make a game of it. She picks up on a little French, and Damon fills in the rest of what they hear around them, embellishing and making up stories for their own entertainment.
After midnight Damon lures her out into the night for other games of catch and release, like they'd done when she was a new vampire. And when he offers her the bleeding neck a young, Parisian girl she has to reign herself in, digging her fingernails into her palms. She's draws on her precious few experiences, listening to the rhythmic heartbeat, drinking until she feels the shivering girl in her arms slacken and falter. She clings to her control and drags her mouth away from the blood flow. And Damon watches it all with a spark in his eyes and his lips curved into his familiar smirk.
She leaves in the early morning hours before he wakes, departing in silence again without saying goodbye. They were always better in small doses she reminds herself. Always a fragile balance between them. And she imagines it won't be long before he tracks her down, again and again. She'll welcome it.
-x-
It's in Rome she finds Stefan.
On a brisk, spring morning she visits the Spanish Steps, watching as tourist take in the Mediterranean architecture, and buy novelty souvenirs from the local street vendors. And in the back of her mind she remembers a night she and Stefan once shared together, her lying in his arms on the verge of sleep. He's describing one his favorite places in the world, with a widening stair case leading from an old church at the top to cobble stone streets and water fountains below.
There's no reason to think he would be here, his where abouts have been unknown to her since she left Mystic Falls years ago. But she finds herself returning to this place time and time again, imagining what it would be like to see his familiar face emerge from the crowd, his forest green eyes finding hers after years of distance. A thousand different scenarios cross her mind as she sits on those the steps, looking out expectantly into the crowd.
And then suddenly he is there, dressed in denim and a fitted long sleeve button up shirt. He doesn't see her at first, not until she makes her way into his visual field. And the light in his eyes and the slight curve of his lips as they form into a smile tells her she's not the only one who's been missing someone.
They spend days touring the city, exploring the layers of history that reside here, Ancient, Medieval, Renaissance, Neoclassical, and Modern pockets of the city. Centuries upon centuries built upon one another. Stefan takes her from one favorite spot to another, and she thinks somehow this rich and layered city suits him and his own complex intellectual curiosities.
They spend their evenings drinking from blood bags and bottles of red wine, reminiscing on their travels and experiences while apart. He still sees Damon, they track each other the way they always have, too stubborn to let too much time or space separate them. And he's mostly been on the wagon, just as she's been, with a few exceptions they share with one another like a confidence.
And every night they fall into bed, and it's a frenzy of bruising kisses and urgent touches, their hands tearing at the clothing that separates them, grasping at bare skin beneath. Its years of pent up frustration and longing finally surfacing after years of separation. They make love into the early morning hours on top of an old rickety bed covered in thin cotton sheets. And she thinks few things she has experienced in her comparatively young life have felt this fine, with his steady breath against her skin, his solid limbs entangled with hers.
Rain drops fall overhead onto the roof above filing the comfortable silence of the room. And she lies in his arms and takes in his words as he tells her stories of his worst recovery after his ripper binge in the 20's. He reminisces about how Lexi found him battered and broken on the train tracks outside of Chicago, and whisked him away to the secluded country side of Provence to salvage what was left of his sanity. Again and again Lexi would find him over the years, reminding him of the man he was once.
Elena wakes the next morning to a gentle breeze and sun light breaking through the curtains. The bed is cold and empty beside her, with white rose and a note on her pillow written in Stefan's hand writing.
Being with you again, it reminds me of the better man I want to be. And it's for that reason I can't be selfish with you. You have an old soul that resides in you, and it's easy for me to forget how young you are sometimes, how much you have yet to experience for yourself. So go out into the world, and find yourself on your terms. And find me, again and again. We'll have life times.
END