AN: I hope you all had a beautiful holiday! It snowed here on the 21st and then it continued to snow; we were blessed with a white Christmas! :) So, this was written for Layla and the holiday Author to Author fic exchange on LiveJournal. Because I wrote this before the episode with Jeremy being a Potential aired and before 4x07, I took some liberties and played around a bit. I hope you enjoy it, everyone. Happy reading! Huge thanks goes to Mariah for beta'ing and thank you to Katlyn for pre-reading. :D
Pairing: As if I'd write anything other than DE.
Rating: I really wanted it, but smut just wasn't appropriate. However, there will be strong language, hence the rating.
Christmas has always been Elena's favorite holiday – a time for cheer and quality time with loved ones, cookies, carols and snowflakes. It was the one time of year that she had believed in magic – until she'd discovered that magic was real and it was nothing like in the fairytales.
This year is different. Her parents are gone, along with Jenna and Ric – no amount of wishing can bring them back and it feels like they took Christmas magic and the fairytales with them.
She's grateful – lucky – to still have Jeremy in her life. Should anything happen to him, she knows that she'll break. After all, he's the only thing that's keeping her together, keeping her from falling apart at the seams.
He's the only one she has left.
Well, he's not the only one, she amends with a twinge of longing. There is something else…someone else that she counts on, relies on to keep her going. He'sthe reason she ended things with Stefan, and inadvertently estranged herself from her friends.
Damon.
The vampire slipped under her skin and planted himself there, latching onto her heart with no intention of letting go.
Although it seems he has every intention of being A.W.O.L. on Christmas.
Elena expected him to show up – like he had last year – say something snarky or make fun of her for drinking Eggnog and singing Christmas carols with Caroline and Bonnie, but today, she hasn't heard a word from him. When she calls him, he doesn't answer the phone.
She's left seven voice messages.
"No way. I'm not doing that."
Elena frowns, straightening up as she trains her super sensitive hearing on her brother's adamant voice. Curious, she heads silently down the stairs and makes her way toward the living room as Jeremy continues defensively.
"Because it's none of my business, that's why!"
Peering around the corner, Elena freezes, her eyes going wide. She'd expected to see Jeremy talking on the phone, but his arms are crossed as he stares into empty space in front of the fire place.
"Look, it's…my sister,okay? I really don't want to get involved with her love life."
Elena's heart leaps to her throat. She's seen Jeremy talking to nothing before – she knows what it means. A ghost. Her brother is talking to a ghost.
"Hey," he says, as she walks into the room, running a hand through his already disheveled hair and glancing to his right with an annoyed look. "What's up?"
"Everything okay? I heard you…" she trails off, her eyes following where his are. "Who are you talking to?"
Jeremy hesitates for only a moment before heaving a sigh. "Ric says we shouldn't be moping around on Christmas Eve," he reveals, gesturing toward the fireplace.
"What?" she gasps, her eyes widening as a genuine smile breaks over the boy's face. "Ric's here?"
Nodding, Jeremy adds, "He showed up this morning; scared the shit out of me too." He shoves his hands in his pockets sheepishly. "Said everyone looked like they were having a good Christmas; besides the three of us."
"Three?" Elena prompts, raising a brow.
"You, me, and Damon," he clarifies.
Elena's chest tightens as her heart skips a beat. "He usually shows up to make fun of Christmas," she admits, looking wistfully toward the empty space where she thinks Ric is standing. "But not today. I haven't seen him anywhere."
"Ugh, fine, Ric," Jeremy mutters, glancing sidelong to his right before heaving an overdramatic sigh. "He thinks you should go see Damon." Rolling his eyes and grimacing, he makes a sound of protest. "Come on, dude. She's my sister."
"Jeremy, what's he saying?" Elena demands anxiously.
Softening his expression, Jeremy reveals, "He wants you and Damon to be happy….that for whatever reason – you make each other happy."
"Is Ric here now?" she asks, frowning when he shakes his head.
"He…just left," he says, frowning at the space where Ric had apparently been. "He said he needed to go learn what he could from the witches about the Cure, if there was anything more to learn. He said that Damon's at the cemetery…"
Of course he is, Elena thinks as understanding dawns, tugging at her heart. Of course, Damon wouldn't be himself today. His best friend is gone. Last Christmas, he and Ric had poked fun at the holiday, joking that the only thing any of them should be happy or thankful for was that they were still alive to live another day as they downed the rest of their bourbon as if it were water.
Now he's gone. Damon's best friend – his only friend – is gone.
"Jeremy, I…"
"Go," her brother says, waving toward the front door and refusing to meet her eye. "Tell Damon I said…hi, I guess."
Nodding her thanks because there's currently a lump in her throat, Elena immediately heads for the door.
"Elena."
She turns around.
"Ric wants you to tell Damon to enjoy the rest of his stash. He doesn't want anybody else touching it."
Smiling as tears fill her eyes, Elena nods again before heading straight for the cemetery. She's still a little bewildered by the news that Ric hasn't moved on, but she can't deny feeling happy about it, lighter somehow. Some of her loneliness faded with the knowledge that someone who had grown to mean so much wasn't truly gone.
Damon's there, alone, just like Ric said he'd be. Elena's still getting used to her newfound vampire abilities – including the ability to move silently across the ground – and she waits for the moment he whirls around and catches her sneaking up on him; it never happens. She's surprised, thinking that a vampire only a few decades shy of two hundred years old would hear a newbie. He must really be caught up in his thoughts.
"I want that for her, Ric."
Elena pauses mid-step and furrows her brows, tilting her head to make sure that she's hearing him correctly. She wonders if she caught him at the end of his one-sided conversation, but he continues.
"She deserves to have what my brother and I never had. A chance to have a happy life, to get married," he says, his voice sounding strained. "Pop out a few kids…have the life that she wanted." He lifts a bottle of whiskey to his lips and takes a big swig.
Elena knows this – he's told her this before – why is he telling Ric? Damon shakes his head, running a hand through his dark hair. "You're lucky, man." He takes another huge swig from the dark bottle. She wonders how much he's had to drink. "You escaped the whole vampire thing pretty damn quickly. You barely knew what hit you." Elena moves closer, her feet silent on the cold earth as Damon stares at the tombstone. "Actually, you didn't," he chuckles sadly, leaning forward and brushing some dirt off of the engraving. "You were Evilaric. Original Recipe you was out-of-commission."
Elena winces at reminder of their friend's demise, listening to him continue his soliloquy until she can't stand to hear the forced laughter or see the pain in his eyes as he looks up at the dark, winter sky to keep his tears from through his lashes.
"Damon," she quietly, stepping out from behind a nearby tree.
He swallows, clearing his throat and casually jumping off of the neighboring headstone. "What are you doing here?"
"Jeremy told me where to find you."
"And how the hell would he know that?" Damon demands.
She tilts her head toward the tombstone, offering him a wan smile. "How do you think?"
Damon's eyes narrow to slits. "He saw Ric." He scoffs at her nod, a harsh, disbelieving sound as he shakes his head. "I thought Ric had moved on."
Elena frowns, shrugging helplessly. "Apparently not. He's umm," she coughs, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat. "He's still around."
Damon brushes past her, lightly grazing her shoulder with his as he curses loudly, "Fuck you."
"Excuse me?" she gasps and he spins around, quickly correcting himself.
"I wasn't talking to you, Elena."
"Oh." Ric. She wants to smile – nearly does. "I know you miss him."
"You don't know shit."
"Is that why I found you practically bawling into your booze?" she asks, her eyes dance playfully and he doesn't bother to say anything snarky or cruel in response as she closes in on him. "That's what I thought. Damon, you miss him. It's okay to miss him," she murmurs, her voice breaking as her eyes begin to sting. She's so used to seeing him in control, but right now he's the most vulnerable she's ever seen him.
He's almost broken.
Elena takes an unconscious half-step forward, but instead of retreating, Damon does the same. 'The whole idea of a family is not exactly compatible with being a vampire,' Rose had told her in one of her final moments. "He was like a brother to you, and something of a father to me. It's okay to miss him," she repeats, keeping her gaze on the ground as tears slip down her cheeks. Damon reaches out to stroke them away, to take her face in his hands – something that's become habit – but thinks better of it and lets his arm fall to his side.
Elena frowns. She doesn't want him to hold back…not anymore.
She sits on a little granite bench by Alaric's grave, patting the space beside her and resting her head on his shoulder when he joins her. After a moment, she feels the gentle pressure of his cheek against her crown.
"He was here," she whispers minutes that feel like hours later. "And then he was just…gone."
"Gone as in gone?" Damon asks, whistling the 'cuckoo' tune. Elena slaps his bicep in retaliation – the contact hurting more than before she turned – and he murmurs into her hair, "I know what you meant…and I know what you mean. I think we all took the guy for granted."
"What?" she asks, looking up at him in surprise.
"We did. Maybe it was that damn ring. We got so fucking used to him always coming back and now that he no longer can…" Damon swallows thickly as he bites out, "it's like a kick in the gut every goddamn time."
"I know," she says quietly, squeezing his arm. "He misses you, Damon."
"Did he tell Little Gilbert that?" he smirks. "I'm sure he's pissed I'm drinking all of his booze."
She can't help but smile a little. "He said you can have it."
"Thanks, buddy," he chuckles sadly, lifting the bottle toward the tombstone in a toast.
Seconds turn into minutes as they sit there and Damon doesn't push Elena away. He notices she doesn't move away either. "You've built a life, whether you want to admit it or not." The memory was so fresh and crisp in his mind it was like he could still hear her voice. "I was thinking about Rose today," he says suddenly, breaking the quiet.
"Yeah?"
"Mhmm," he nods. "She told me that whether I admit it or not, I've built a life here in this stupid, fucking town."
"She was right. As much as I'd like to leave," he says, noting the way her sluggish heart quickens – he remembers his promise and the look that had been in her eyes when he made it every damn time he tries to break it – and is quick to soothe her panic by taking her hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I can't."
"But you want to," she frowns, pulling back and scooting away. "You're really that unhappy…aren't you?"
Damon scoffs. "Understatement."
"Damon –"
"Elena, think about it," he interrupts. "Stefan. You. Ric. Rose. Andie. Anybody I've ever remotely cared about has either died or hurt me in one way or another." He answers the hurt in her eyes with a pained smile as he tells her honestly, "You can't have it both ways – It isn't fair." He doesn't want to her to feel bad – doesn't want to see anything but a smile on her face – but he's run out of gentle words.
"I know," she says with a nod, bringing him out of his thoughts. Biting her lip, she continues. "I was thinking about Rose earlier too."
"You were?" he asks, eyes widening with a smirk. "Why?"
"She told me that vampires don't get to have families…but she was wrong. You, Ric, me and Jer…Damon, we were a family. A dysfunctional one – constantly killing each other, literally – but we were a family. We still are."
"I only watch out for Baby Gilbert because I know you'd stake me if anything happened to him," Damon says with a wink to let her know that he's kidding. He'd never say it out loud, but he doesn't mind the youngest Gilbert sibling.
The lightness in her eyes dulls a fraction as she turns to face him full on. "She told me that I was lucky too."
"Lucky to be alive," he quips. "Well, not alive…hey," he growls halfheartedly when she hits him with a little more force. "Easy."
"She said I was lucky because no one had ever loved her the way that I'm loved."
The words take him aback. He knows immediately to whom she's alluding to – Rose was the first person to understand just how deep his feelings for Elena went and still go.
"You are pretty loved," he nods, finally speaking, not even denying or caring about the feelings he's sure are shining like the annoying, poorly-lit Christmas lights strung throughout the town. "You know," he tells her, trying to gain back some of the control he'd lost by the admission, "before she died...Rose said she missed being human." I have a secret. I have a big one, and I've never said it out loud. "I told her it wasn't anything special," he shakes head, a sad half-smile gracing his lips. "That humanity wasn't what it's cracked up to be." I'm not human and I miss it. I miss it more than anything in the world. "I didn't push it, knowing she'd definitely meant what she was saying..." Because I understood it all too fucking well.
"You were more hurt that night than you let on..."
He shrugs with a small snort, hating and loving how well she can read him, how well she's always been able to read him. "I was wrong. I miss it, Elena."
His eyes drop to the bottle of whiskey in his hands when Elena takes it out of his grasp, sets it on the ground slips her hand into his. He wants to laugh. He's such a masochist. He'll keep scurrying back, scrambling to pick up whatever crumbs of affection she leaves for him.
"I know it's a longshot, but fuck do I want that cure." He laughs bitterly, running his hands through his hair. "I really am a selfish bastard. I've said it often enough. Do you believe me, yet?"
Elena scoots closer to him. "We'll figure it out," she promises, squeezing his fingers as they intertwine with hers. "And stop saying that. You're not selfish, Damon."
"We're not human. But I want to be. I want it more than you probably think. See? Selfish."
"Honest," she corrects. "And if you were selfish, you wouldn't have compelled me to forget your little confession the night you gave me my necklace back."
"Fucking necklace," he groans playfully and she looks up at him giggling softly. "Do you think Ric would agree with you? That I'm selfless?" She nods, making him shake his head. "Doubt it."
"I think Ric would agree that while you can be a first rate jackass…you can be a pretty spectacular friend too." Her smile softens as her chocolate gaze falls to his mouth. He watches, painfully aware, as she runs her tongue over her lips before taking in a sharp breath and meeting his steady gaze. "Stefan and I broke up."
Damon blinks in surprise, momentarily speechless upon hearing her admit it so readily – or maybe he's just surprised that the breakup stuck. "I heard," he finally replies a couple seconds later. "That was an awkward entrance I made when you two were in Lockwood's yard. I wondered what I'd walked in on, but the looks you two gave each other definitely clarified things. You two are done-zo."
"We are."
"And you were saying that we needed to talk but then you –"
Elena had called to him from the top of the stairs, stopping him at the bottom and throwing him back to the year before when he'd stepped in for Stefan and they'd danced. Damon had waited for her to descend – had waited patiently, anxiously for whatever it was she'd been about to say – but she'd been unable to speak and had run off without uttering a word.
He'd barely fought the urge to chase her.
"I was afraid," she admitted, cutting him off.
So was I. "You were pretty skittish," he quips lightly.
"You calmed my nerves later that night," she smiles gratefully, reminding him of how he'd found her in his home after the pageant, staring into the fireplace.
Alone.
She'd missed out on the dance, so he'd walked up to her, took her hand in his and pulled her close. He'd wrapped an arm around her waist and laced his fingers through hers, stroking mindless circles into her skin. He'd watched as her gaze had dropped to his lips – as it often had when they stood a little too close – but he hadn't pushed her. She'd leaned in close, resting her head on his shoulder as they'd rocked side-to-side, dancing to nothing but the sound of the crackling wood in the grate.
Elena takes a deep breath. "Stefan thinks I'm broken," she tells him now, "Like I'm something that needs to be fixed." He stifles a growl at the notion of something as ridiculous as that. "Caroline feels the same, but they don't see that this is who I am now. They think I'm someone completely different, but I'm still me. I still have the same feelings. The only difference is that what I'd tried to hide before isn't so easily hidden now, and I think that bugs them." Her eyes flit up to his and he sits there, searching her eyes for any signs that she may flee, but sees none. "It's why Stefan and I broke up."
Knowing the answer, but doubting she'll actually say it, he hesitantly asks. "What have you been trying to hide?"
"My feelings for you," she says immediately.
He blinks in surprise. Well, I'll be damned. Hearing that admission from her, he shrugs and easily – at least he hopes it sounds that way - says, "Vampirism makes a lot of things harder to hide. Besides…"
"You were right."
"Usually am," he smirks, swallowing.
"I'm more like you than I thought I was," she smiles softly. "I wanted to tell you that we broke up at the dance and how I was feeling, but I lost my nerve. Now you know."
He clears his throat. "Mhmm," he nods, his lips curving slowly into a wicked grin. "Now I know."
Rose's warning to not take time and the people in his life for granted enters Damon's mind as he meets Elena halfway, drawing so close that he can feel her breath on his lips.
Refusing to be the one to close the distance between them, Damon stops. If Elena wants this, she needs to make it happen. Confessions aside, he's been in this position with her before – too many times – and he's not ready to have his heart stomped on again.
To his surprise, Elena barely pauses, closing the distance between them and pressing her lips to his. One arm finds its way around her as she delves her fingers into his hair, the other slipping behind her head, allowing him to stroke the soft skin with the pad of his thumb.
The kiss grows in intensity until they're breathless and panting. Damon wants more – so much more, but he reluctantly pulls away. "I feel like Ric is watching us," he admits in answer to Elena's soft whimper of protest, pressing his forehead to hers.
"Then let's go somewhere that Ric would never dare enter," she replies, her dark eyes gleaming with mischief and promise.
"Where would that be?" he asks, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth despite the unshakable certainty that his best friend is lingering nearby.
Elena smiles, leaning even closer to whisper in his ear. "My room." Damon laughs as Elena stands and tugs him to his feet far too easily. "Come on."
"I was wondering when you were going to make us leave," he says, staring in mild bewilderment at their joined hands as she leads him out of the cemetery. "It's Christmas Eve and we're in a graveyard."
"It's romantic," she insists with a chime of laughter escaping her lips, whirling in front of him and walking backwards as she grabs the lapels of his jacket and presses a kiss to his lips.
"So romantic," he sighs, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he rolls his eyes, pulling her closer. He winks at her as his lips curve into a smirk against hers. "Just you, me…and the ghost of our dead best friend. I wonder what he'd have to say about this."
Elena blushes a little, tightening her hold on Damon's hand as her smile widens. "Well…we can find out from Jeremy…later," she adds, gazing up at him through her lashes.
He doesn't need to be told twice.
AN: Thank you so much for reading & please review! ~Kate
Twitter: _ThisIsMyEscape