TVD – Bonded for Life, Chapter 1

A/N - Sometime in the future, hopefully sooner than later…perhaps shortly after #409. As usual, I only own the story, my ideas, but the characters and TVD belong to others…darn… ;-)

Stefan's POV

Ink was flying across page after page. Randomness, emotions, red herrings, and on and on…

The sire bond…the effin' sire bond…it crept into every nuance and fiber of her being. It was different from the hybrids. Maybe it was different because of being a different species. Maybe it was different due to the feelings Elena had before turning. Who knows? Who cares? It's just different. He can see it in her. The extra thought she puts into every decision. It's not her opinions she's weighing. It's wondering "What will Damon think?" "What would Damon want?" "What would make Damon happy?" "I'm happy making Damon happy…"

It was disgusting. Sickening. No better than the Tri Delts or Andy, poor Andy. Maybe worse since Andy still seemed to have some of her mind intact despite the compulsion. She at least disagreed with Damon at times, didn't she? But Elena, his beautiful and brilliant Elena…Aw hell, who was he to mourn her loss..a killer, he killed Andy and so many more…But come on…Damon? Kowtowing to his every whim…

Of course Damon didn't do it on purpose. He hadn't even known that his blood had been given to Elena to heal her until after she'd drowned. Why hadn't Elena been told? Damn Meredith. Thank God for Meredith. Which was it? Better to be alive-ish but sired instead of really truly, permanently dead, right?

It's too bad they never anticipated something like this. They could have put some of Stefan's blood on ice with the doc just in case something ever happened to Elena…It would have seemed "normal" that Elena would want to be cured by her boyfriend's blood more than anyone else's, no slight to Damon or any other vamp intended. But whatever, it's too late now. It's too depressing to ponder the "what if's", the "what could have been's"…Argghh, stop it, stop brooding, he chided internally, think of how to fix this, not about what would have happened if it had be your blood…

He didn't want Elena sired to him anyway. It probably wouldn't have happened since it's so rare. Either way, it was so much more powerful knowing Elena gave herself freely to him and loved him so powerfully in return. There had been nothing supernatural about their love, but it had been, it is, was extraordinary. Their connection was so complete, even though they'd needed to recover from ripper days and more, it didn't seem that their love would ever fail to get them through any tragedy that would befall them.

That should have meant something when Elena's feelings were amplified with the transition. Her feelings about everything, everyone, should have been amplified, including her feelings, her strongest and deepest feelings presumably, for Stefan should have carried more weight. You'd think… But that must be an indication of how significant the sire bond is or…that she had deeper feelings for Damon than he'd thought. Fuck. That stopped him mid-sentence.

Round and round the thoughts raced, never allowing him to arrive at a better place, a place of hope. It was getting harder and harder to hang on to hope that somehow, some way, they'd find the cure. Maybe it wouldn't be the complete cure that allowed Elena to become human again. But maybe something could cure or remove the sire bond. It's not like a vampire could turn a hundred times to experience the pain of it and stop feeling unnaturally indebted to Damon for having stopped the pain. There wasn't any pain, not like that. He hadn't saved her from a life of changing at each full moon. So…did he save her from something else? From dying? Sort of… But she didn't want this anyway. She said she was prepared to die. She wouldn't have felt grateful for living this way… So what then caused the sire bond?

Maybe Tyler was wrong. Maybe he found a way to break the bond but maybe it worked for completely different reasons than Bill Forbes had said, not out of some false sense of gratitude. Maybe it was one of a number of possible cures but not the cause.

When the hybrids were transitioning all those times, they felt immense pain. They screamed and cried out in agony. Every bone in their bodies was broken, over and over. It had to be horrifyingly awful, especially since it was all self-inflicted.

Stefan pondered on this a while. Was he missing anything else? If he was, it wasn't coming to him tonight. With sarcasm, he determined the net of all this so far was that he needed to get Elena to torture herself into breaking the sire bond even though it probably wouldn't work. He rolled his eyes and scoffed at the ridiculousness it. He could no more torture her, allow her to be tortured by anyone, let alone make her self-inflict it, than he could stop loving her. He just couldn't.

I love her still.

Savoring the pain that loitered with his last thought, Stefan dropped his pen into the crevice created by the binding of his open journal. He rubbed his face with both hands as if to erase the frustration, fatigue, and fear weighing on him. He pressed his palms to his eyes that seemed so dry. It seemed he hadn't blinked once as he poured out his soul. He'd been on a rant, frantically writing as if somehow the answer would appear in his journal. Releasing a heavy sigh and keeping his eyes closed for a longer rest, his hands ran through his hair and flopped down to the arms of his chair as he slouched further into the rich brown leather. He was exhausted. Not just from tonight. Not just from all the painful emotions clawing at his insides, although they were to blame.

He couldn't sleep, not well any way. He needed her beside him. He needed to feel her pressed to his chest, his arm around her, spooning the hours away as they'd sleep. Another sigh softly left his lips as he imagined her next to him in bed. The soft aroma of her shampoo, nuzzling her hair, hitching a leg between hers, the warm wet heat…His head bobbed waking him. He'd drifted off sitting up in the chair and he'd woken just as his fingers were exploring her warm skin.

It was easier to fall asleep outside of his bed…their bed…any bed. As soon as he'd make his way to a bed, it was like a second wind would hit him. His mind would race and torture him with loneliness and longing. He would lie in bed, fantasizing about how it would be when Elena came back to him. Even sleeping at Caroline's didn't help. Caroline even offered to stay by his side, platonically of course, until he fell asleep. She'd have stayed the whole night if it would help. He declined saying he'd only keep her awake.

Now in his room, alone in the boarding house, Stefan looked over at his empty bed. He very much thought of just staying in the club chair for the night but he wanted to turn off the lights so he might as well get up. He did just that, slowly turning off each lamp he'd lit to somehow make the room seem less empty, less lonely. The last lamp clicked off and he stood in the near dark between chair and bed, again hesitating. He slowly peeled off his shirt, his jeans, what the heck, everything came off in a near act of defiance. He didn't have to worry about modesty. It wasn't like her body would be pressing against him, skin to skin, and triggering his passion during the night. It was his bed. He could do what he liked. Lord knows, they did…he thought.

He made his way to the side of the bed taking a mental note that he still went to "his" side of the bed. He crawled into bed and made his way to the center of the mattress and propped up both pillows just for him. Under the covers, spread eagle on his back, he made himself as comfortable as he could. It would have been laughable to anyone else watching him try to relax. He was stiff and uncomfortable in his own bed as he tried to take up as much space as he could. His muscles cried out to either get up and hurt something or get over it already and relax. They needed sleep too.

Shifting and repositioning multiple times, it took a solid 45 to 50 minutes for Stefan to finally relax enough to fall asleep. His mind wandered each time he started to drift off, usually startling him awake. Always, he would see her face, smiling up at him, over and over, that smile… And finally he was asleep.

The next morning, Stefan recalled he'd had some nice dreams and some crazy dreams in the five or six hours of sleep he'd been able to get. It was more sleep than he'd had straight through the night in a while. First and foremost in his dreams, he was with Elena in happier times. Maybe it was the past or maybe it was the future and they were happy. It was mostly a montage of various visions with her being happy, smiling, with him, maybe some hand-holding, maybe some kissing. He might have made her laugh a few times…

Then there was this really weird scene he couldn't get out of his mind where Bill Forbes had transitioned, was sired to Damon, and Damon was being a complete jack-ass homophobe. Maybe it was Stefan's subconscious wishing Damon had been gay and thus not always making the moves on Elena. Regardless, he remembered it was funny to him while he was dreaming but he couldn't remember why exactly when he was awake. Thinking of others Damon had turned, he wondered if Vicki or Isobel would have ever exhibited any symptoms of a sire bond had they had the chance to test it out. But none of the others Damon turned had had romantic feelings for Damon before turning, certainly none that anyone knew about and certainly not Bill Forbes. LOL, he thought. Caroline Forbes certainly didn't. She hated Damon back then, especially when she remembered all he'd compelled her to forget. So, it was just lucky Stefan, once again the fool, and life ripping out his heart, again… Just Elena and one crazy, sad brick counting vamp in New Orleans, who'd loved Damon before turning; they were the few who were blessed with a sire bond.

Damon had tried to get rid of the sire bond back then but now they knew the bayou witch had failed. Her daughter claimed there wasn't a spell that could break it. It had all been a lie so the witch could increase her power and twelve more innocent people had died in the effort.

Stefan got up, oblivious to, but splendid in his nakedness. He stretched and yawned, crossed to his journal and brought it back to bed with him. Under the covers again, he began to pour out more of his ramblings and wild hairs in the hopes that some new breakthrough would come of the effort. He made a note to ask Bonnie about researching possible spells since maybe the other witch had lied or just didn't know of any.

As he wrote, he remembered another part of his dream. Bill Forbes had kissed then bitten Damon on the neck as he tried to express his admiration for Damon. Bill had even drunk from Damon, trying to take as much of Damon into himself as possible. Damon had then poked Bill in his eyes, kind of Three Stooges-esque, then punched Bill and broke his neck. Bill Forbes spun around with a big smile on his face and fell down dead doing a prat fall just like in the old comedy films. OK, so the dream wasn't a breakthrough on the sire bond problem, and he certainly didn't want Damon to hurt Elena, but at least now Stefan remembered why it was sort of funny watching it in his dreams (or at least why his subconscious thought it funny).

Making no further progress writing, Stefan made his way reluctantly to the shower. It wasn't that he didn't want to take a shower. He just knew that the sooner he was ready to go about his day, the sooner he'd be face to face with some new painful reality of losing Elena. He simply didn't want to experience any further reinforcement of the loss. He was avoiding. He'd already done a fair amount of damage in the boarding house, which he still needed to revisit and correct.

He bowed his head under the hot spray of the rain shower head. It was hotter than Elena would have been able to take. He leaned his hands up on the wall in front of him. The stronger side jets worked his chest and back. He must have let the water beat down on him standing perfectly still for five or ten minutes. He watched as the water swirled slowly to the drain and left him behind. In his preoccupied morning haze, he wished he could manifest a metaphysical change and join with the water to leave everything else behind. The concept seemed soothing to his soul as the water left with ease, not letting much deter its eventual departure.

It was wasteful, he knew, but he honestly didn't care today about water conservation. He needed an indulgence. The steamy spray built up shadowing him in steam within the enclosed glass shower to the point no one would have been able to see him from the outside through the fog. He thought about relieving some stress right then and there since he was so shielded from the outside world. It couldn't hurt, could it? Nah, forget it…

Grabbing the all-in-one shampoo, he lathered and rinsed. Soaping his hands next, he lathered his face, scrubbed his neck, his arms, underarms, and more slowly, his chest. He snickered at himself, scoffing and laughing at the idea he was seducing himself, in the shower as his hands roamed his chest, slippery fingers skimming his nipples…

His right hand lathered up with more suds and he turned his body so that the spray wouldn't take away all the soapy silkiness too quickly. Slowly, he began to stroke himself. He tried to keep his mind very specifically focused to this time, this place, just a few minutes to ease free of this world's problems. But it led mostly to frustration. Each time he felt himself get closer, to building to the next level, he was only able to think of her and yet thinking of her, missing her, made it more difficult to get lost in the moment.

He nearly stopped but so wanted to feel better, to have a moment where pain wasn't at the forefront. He convinced himself that it would be ok to think about her, physically, to think about her body, her sex, and her mewling cries of pleasure. He rolled toward the wall, leaning his shoulder into it for balance. It was cool to the touch and a contrast to the hot water and friction of his hand. It didn't take much longer for him to reach his peak as he imagined Elena pressed between him and the shower wall and his body driving them home together. As he came, he mouthed her name in a silent cry of want.

He panted as he worked through his last shuddering touch and release. Eyes closed and forehead resting on the wall he slowly regained his composure. As good as it felt, he was still overcome with his longing for her and his guilt for using her image in this way. She was so much more than sex to him. Ah, get over yourself, Salvatore, he chided, don't be such a girl. Despite the sexist joke meant to distract himself, he knew he had to try to not let his emotions, his built-in guilt-o-meter, run to the extreme. He could easily end up crying on the floor if he let himself wallow.

No, if anything, he needed to use other emotions to propel him forward. Anger was great fuel, like the anger over the betrayal of his loved ones. How could they…? But he didn't want to think about his brother or her just now. So he straightened up and finished showering. He hurried through dressing, drying his hair, brushing his teeth, and any other daily rituals. It was time to leave his room and face the day.

Elena was at home having been discharged, dismissed, commanded to leave, by Damon. She didn't like it one bit. Why would he do that?