One shot: I had to deal with these feelings in a semi- normal person way. I watched the episode three times all the way through and THE scene at least 10 times. I hope I did it justice.
I felt the blood boil under my skin as I stared at the raging fire. It was almost summer; why the fuck did I need to light a fire? Oh that's right, because I needed something else to burn other than my goddamn heart. I was a pro at arson but I settled for burning wood instead of the alternative, of pulling an Elena and lighting my whole house ablaze. My body quivers with a mixture of murderous rage and inexplicable sadness. I swear I had never felt so much pain in my life. I've had over a hundred years of pain. A plethora of it, I had embraced it. In the past century pain was the only thing that reminded me I felt anything at all. I've been staked, I've had my heart ripped out by a demonic sadistic bitch, and I've writhed under werewolf venom, twice. But nothing rivals this feeling. The pain of knowing I'm never going to get what I want. That I've had a thousand missed opportunities because of the person I chose to be, a manipulative dick. That the man that always controlled his own fate had given himself over to his inevitable feelings. Falling in love with Elena was more sure then the sun rising and setting.
I was lost in her, in her every word and expression. When she smiled I was stunned, when she laughed my thoughts froze, my word beaten into submission. When I looked at her lips and remembered them blazing a path down my body, my skin crawled with anticipation. Only to remember he passion was fake, a facade, a joke played on me by one of the thousand people I have killed or tortured. And judging by the jaw rattling slap she gave me today, she was pissed. That's the thing about Elena and I. I could pretend to hate her and she could pretend to hate me as much as she wants but what would that do? We would fight and end up hurting each other more than anything else and after all that unnecessary pain we would find our way back to one another. For me, the woman I love. For her, just as a friend.
But today was different, Elena wasn't angry, she was enraged.
I've had close encounters with death; I've practically slept with it we are such close friends. She has every right to be angry, but then again so do I. We wanted it, both of us wanted for her to be human again. She held the cure in her own hands and rushed to my aid, she's so god damn selfless. Adding just another point to the list of why I will never be right for her. She should have taken a page out of my book and swallowed the damn cure without flinching.
I almost lost her today, again. I feel like I'm in a proverbial tug of war game with the universe. And apparently Stefan aids the universe. No matter how hard I push myself to be everything she needs and wants, I lose a mile and only gain an inch. Every pull goes unnoticed and every inch I gain is lost because my hands slip. Because I slip up. Because I don't know how to deal with things that work out, I subconsciously fuck them up.
I would do anything she wanted me to do, blindly and stupidly. But the idea of me being human? Five months ago I would have rejoiced at the opportunity, I would have taken it without a word. I would have spent my human years winning over the human Elena with my charm. She would have fallen for me, we would get married, have had children and love one another. But the thought of her remaining an ageless beauty as my face wrinkled and by breaths were numbered made me physically sick.
I would rather kill myself right now just to preserve the memory of her complexity instead of being a human if she wasn't one with me. Her beauty would be dulled and under appreciated by a human mind. I would have a mind that couldn't read her like mine can, eyes that can't see the seemingly hundreds of colors that shine off of her hair in the sun, and I know for a fact, a human heart couldn't love her as desperately as I do now. She hated me for it. Words of apology mixed with profanities in my head as I took the stopper off of the bourbon, I knocked the crystal tumblers over and took the entire jug in my hands, I was never one to conform.
The liquid burned like my anger. I was losing it. I was so fucking angry at her!
I admit I talk a big game, I can say I hate Stefan, Katherine, Klaus and Silas all I want but the truth is, I hate myself more then everyone combined. Who the hell was I when I came back to mystic falls, and who the hell am I now? I'm a selfish bastard with nothing but self-interest. And who is Elena? She is the epitome of everything good and pure, misguided, young and so loving that it's detrimental to her health. I had told myself over and over again how I would never deserve her no matter what I did for the next hundred years, even if I chose redemption. It would never surpass the pain and torture I have left behind in the last hundred. I run my fingers through my hair and huff as I stomp around the room. I settle against the fireplace and squeeze my eyes shut as I briefly think about sitting in the fire and giving up. The last thing that I want on this earth is keeping me from the one thing I want most. My humanity will always be my greatest flaw and my greatest strength. I had realized that after my soul searching retreat like to call my life. I will never have humanity like Stefan or Elena; I'm destined to be the vampire Scroodge, only I cannot be rehabilitated. My ghosts and chains will be the people I've killed, and since the veil is down I think I'm getting pretty good at dealing with the baggage. Humanity.
And of course humanity as my strength, the one connection I had to my human self, the way I loved. I loved with every inch and every particle in my body. The cure, she wanted me to take it but the truth is I'd rather die than live a day as a human. To look at her so strong and beautiful, never changing, perfection. I can barely function as a vampire loving her so irrevocably. If I was a human it would swallow me whole. Every day would be numbered; every breath would be a struggle until I withered away to nothing, no matter who she chooses I wouldn't do it for anyone, even for her. The woman I would do anything for, that doesn't fall under the anything category. Call me a masochist, I am. Jesus was and everyone seemed to love him. I would rather spend the next thousand years by Elena's side no matter who she was with wether it be with Stefan or anyone else, drinking in every detail that was her and feeling her calming presence and the pain of knowing she will never be mine then living another 30 years of weakness and risk as a human. Because feeling pain is better than feeling nothing at all.
I chuckle at my own existential crisis as I pace about the room. I've said it before and god damn it I'll say it again, I'm a selfish bastard. That's why good things don't happen to me, I don't deserve them, and I don't deserve her. My fingers run over the old scratched wood of the fireplace hearth as my mind wanders, I'm starting to sound like Stefan with all this self-loathing, If I could vomit I would from the irony. I look around the room and think of all the things that have happened in here. The first time she compulsion free had met me, how I brought her smooth skinned hand to my lips and gently kissed it. I remember the rocking of my body signaling a paradigm shift, I may not have known it then but I sure as hell recognize it now. Or remembering her curl into the arm chair as she cries because who the fuck would have guessed it, I messed up. I still remember the rush of indescribable unadulterated love I felt as she looked up at me with those brown tear filled eyes and smiled as I promised to never leave her side again. Or how I held her to my chest as we danced the night of the mystic falls pageant. She was so confident, so strong. Her body plastered to mine, I had had enough. As I spun her out as we danced in blissful silence, I couldn't bear it anymore. I crushed her against my chest taking her prisoner. My lips captured hers in a way I will never forget. And the feeling of her body under mine, writhing in pleasure as I showed her exactly how much I loved her.
My eyes flooded over with tears as I realized what would happen when Elena finally had the courage to come back and talk to me. She'd comfort me and let me down as easy as she could, she'd cry because she feels bad for me and feels my pain. Because she feels the entire worlds pain. I would be left with memories only made because of a sire bond. It all played out in my head like Steven Spielberg directed it. I would relish in those moments where for one second I could believe that she was mine. I was so far gone, at the point of no return. I take another draught of bourbon and place it back on the table and wipe the tears from my eyes. The only indication of someone approaching is the quiet clack of heels down the hallway. They seem to get more determined as they near me. I return to my post at the fireplace and continue wishing I could light myself on fire.
I feel her before I see her, my body is so attuned to hers, her presence so precious to me, my body adjusts to hers. I glance up and see my own emotions manifested in her stance. Her delicate arms are crossed and I try to forget the way they ran through my hair as she kissed me or how she clawed at my skin because we couldn't get close enough to one another. These images are replaced with the possibility of her pushing me away in repulsion. She was angry, and I'm in a perpetual state of volatility, so this was bound to be explosive. Her slap today had proven just how angry she was at me. Before she can say anything, I needed to get this out.
"I wanted to apologize." I hear myself say. I'm actually shocked at how sincere I sound, when I plan on refuting my apology.
"Good" she says as her full lips set into a thin line making her look much too angry for someone so devastatingly beautiful. She'll have her time to judge, I needed to get this out, and it will make her decision that much easier for her.
"Let me finish. I said I wanted to. "I spat harshly. She raise her eyebrows, I felt the contempt rolling off of her in waves and added my own to the already stuffy atmosphere of the room. I continued unperturbed, "and then I realized. I'm not sorry."
She takes a struggled breath to calm herself before she angrily replies. The fire's glow reflects off of her big brown eyes as they flame with rage.
"You would rather die than be human. And you expect me to be okay with that?" Her voice goes up an octave higher and I'm sure I heard her voice hoarsen with what emotion; I guess I'll never know. This is our defining moment. I will be adding one more memory of Elena tonight, and judging by the way things are going now, a favorable reaction is going to be slim.
"I didn't say you were supposed to be okay with that. I just said I'm not sorry."
I wasn't. I'm not sorry for loving you, for meeting you, for creating a living hell for myself, I'm not sorry for creating a rift between Stefan and myself and I'm not sorry for history repeating itself. I yell at her in my head. And thinking about all the people I've stomped on and things I've done to get what I want, practically my whole life boiled down to one trait that overshadows any semi redeemable qualities I have. My pig headed selfishness.
"But you know what I am Elena? Selfish. Because I make bad choices that hurt you. Yes, I would rather have died than be human, I'd rather die right now than spend a handful of years with you only to lose you when I'm too old and sick and miserable and you are still you."The epitome of perfection. My ONLY redeeming quality.
"I'd rather die right now then spend my last final years remembering how good I had it and how happy I was because that's who I am Elena. And I'm not going to change. And there is no apology in the world that encompasses all the reasons that I'm wrong for you." I yell. That will always be my only regret, no matter how long I live. The pain that I inflict on her, time after time. That is the only thing I'm sorry for. Her eyes glisten slightly as he narrows them trying to hide the evidence of her emotion. Her face scrunched into a dangerous expression.
"Fine." She slaps her arms to her side with frustration. I look at the flames with the expectation for her to leave me alone again. Alone to beat myself up about hurting her once again, I'm sure my tallies rival Stefan the ripper's body count. But she doesn't move, she holds her stance.
"Then I'm not sorry either. I'm not sorry that I met you, I'm not sorry that knowing you had made me question everything." She says powerfully as she walks closer to me. I feel a sharp pain in my chest and it only worsens as I realize the emotion I feel, its hope.
"That in death, you're the one that made me feel most alive." I look at her like she's an alien and half expect Ashton Kutcher to pop out to tell me I was marvelously and mercilessly punked.
"You've been a terrible person." She scoffs, now this is what I expected. And she's right I have been. Always have been and always will be. I prepare myself for the inevitable rejection but it doesn't come.
"And you made all the wrong choices but of all the choices I've made this will prove to be the worst one. "
I filled in the blank in my head with thousands of choices. Most of them being about trusting me, about telling me that she was in love with me. Trying to get me to not invoke the sire bond. There was so much for her to regret. The list is endless. So I put off the pain for a few seconds and put on my mask of indifference, preparing for the worst of circumstances.
"But I am not sorry that I am in love with you." Air escapes my lungs in an unnecessary hiss. My face changes to one of incredulity. And that crushing feeling of hope in my chest explodes, the blast radiating through every crack and crevice in my body. Her eyes now shine with love instead of tears as she stands opposite me.
"I love you Damon." She choked out. My legs carried me to her and I crushed myself against her. This would be nothing short of a challenge, we would be a challenge. WE. I kiss her harder, letting all the anger, frustration but mostly love pour out of me. I would fuck up, we undoubtedly would fight but I made a silent promise to her and myself that I would love her every second of everyday for the rest of eternity if she let me. Even when she reverts to her martyr act to protect the people she loves, because know I'm one of them. She doesn't just love me. She's in love with me. Now that she's mine to have and cherish it will takes nothing short of a stake to the heart to pry her from my grasp. I revel in the feel of her soft body, I practically feel my body crack as she broke through everything I was and the barrier I had spent over a century building up around myself. I felt the man in me resurrected. I lose myself in the taste of her and in the softness of her lips. The love I feel for her was being reciprocated. Her fingers pulled through my hair and brought me every closer to her.
And as we pulled away from one another, we whispered promises of later and quiet love declarations, my eyes filled with tears. Everything I had done to this point had been worth it, every snapped neck and fight, every forced kiss and the times I had never measured up. I pull her as tight as vampirly possible to my body and wrap my arms around her. As she snuggles into the crook of my neck and her warm breath brushes against me, my lips pull into a content smile.
I guess it's not ALWAYS going to be Stefan...