This is set during/after 2.18. Just a bit of cheesy fluff. Reviews are greatly appreciated! Thanks for all the comments you've given me so far!
Stefan watches blankly as Damon goes upstairs, trying to control himself and not break down, not now. He can't do that, he can't afford to do that, he has to be the strong one. Yet part of him thinks that Damon's right, that Damon is the only one who has correctly judged the situation. Maybe he should have listened to Damon and kept Elena here at home, rather than let her go to school and the dance, where she could have been hurt. Where she was hurt.
"Stefan?"
He hadn't even heard Elena approach. Looking at her, he's still unable to say anything, taking in her weary eyes, her tearstained face that completely contrasts with the slight smile. Still in her purple dress, she clutches her laptop tightly, her smile fading as she looks at him.
"Stefan, hey, are you okay?" she asks as she rubs his back gently.
"No," he whispers and discovers he's shaking.
Calmly, Elena tugs his hand and pulls him to his-their-bedroom, closes the door behind them. She places the laptop on his desk and asks quietly, "You wanna talk about it?"
He shakes his head, thinks about how selfish he's being, how foolish, really, when to think of what happened just an hour ago. Bonnie's lifeless body, carrying a sobbing Elena to the car, trying to stop her from- no, he's being selfish. "How's Bonnie?"
Elena smiles, a relieved look on her face. "Fine, more than fine, luckily. And Jeremy's staying with her to make sure she'll stay that way," she babbles on for a minute, attempting to wriggle out of her dress at the same time. Stefan gestures for her to turn around and she does, sweeping her hair away so he can tug the zipper down. Tossing the dress to the side, Elena continues to chatter on about Bonnie's hiding place while she pulls on sweatpants and Stefan's grey shirt. An hour ago a chattering Elena wouldn't have been possible. Half-listening, Stefan thinks about what would have happened if Bonnie had actually died, if-
"Stefan," Elena's standing in front of him. "Baby. What is it?" her eyes plead with him, look deep into his, demanding to know what's wrong. "Is this about Alaric, because Bonnie says-"
"No. Well, yes. Yes. No. I...," he starts and then backs away from her, leans heavily against the wall. "Damon, he..."
"What did he say to you?" Elena asks quietly, stroking his cheek.
Stefan stared at the floor. "That he was the one thinking about you, that he was the one protecting you." Once he starts, the words tumble out quickly. "That that's all he thinks about, protecting you and how I, I'm not doing that and I think... I think he's right. I'm not protecting you."
"How are you not protecting me? Please, Stefan, you've been doing that since we've met-"
"If the only way to protect you is to kill Klaus and if Bonnie is the only one who can-"
"Bonnie is not dying for me," Elena interrupted, her voice fierce as she grabs his shoulders. "Stefan, no one else is dying for me, how many times do I have to say it?"
"But if-"
"And if Damon's idea of protecting me is to have my best friend sacrifice herself, that's a really shitty form of protection."
"If it keeps you alive-"
"If the only way I get to stay alive is by having someone I love die... that's not going to happen. Stefan," she softened her voice, "You're trying to protect me, you're trying to protect the people I love. Damon, he's just... he's trying to protect my body. You're trying to protect who I am, what I need in my life- my family, my friends. You're protecting me."
She drew herself closer, slowly touched his face, gently kissed him. "Stefan..."
He grabbed her, crushing her against his chest and burying his face in her neck while she murmured softly in his ears, comforting fragments, trying to calm him down. His body shook against hers and she held him close.
"I love you," she whispered over and over again. "I love you Stefan."
Elena knew that Stefan had been putting up a good front for the past couple of days, determined not to let her know how worried, how scared he was. Still, she caught glimpses of it. Just little things- how he's been twisting his ring around over and over, his way of showing nerves. At night he hasn't been sleeping, and whenever he does sleep he'll wake up in fitful starts that wake her too. The sacrifice has clearly been on his mind; she knows if their positions were reversed, it'd be on her mind all the time, picturing him dying and freaking out and generally panicking. And there was the little matter of Bonnie's "death". She knows that, earlier, there was really no way for her to take into account his own feelings, which, granted, isn't her fault. She'd been too shocked, too shaken, and he had had to focus solely on taking care of her, of getting her to the car, into the house. He had had to watch her suffer, one thing that Stefan is not good at doing. So if he needs time now, time to freak out and cry, that's fine with her. It's what he would do for her.
When Stefan finally stops shuddering, they've moved to the floor. Elena's leaning against the wall and he's curled against her, his face pressed against her chest. Exactly like the living room earlier, only they've switched positions.
"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm so sorry love."
Elena rubbed the back of his neck comfortingly. "You all right?"
In truth, he's exhausted. "I've been better."
"Haven't we all."
"I'm sorry."
"You're always apologizing."
This is true.
"Stefan," Elena said. "Do you remember what you told me, that morning by the Ferris Wheel?"
He can remember trying to make her smile, kissing her until the sun rose.
"You told me you came back here to start a life with me, that we had to make the little things count. Well... we still have to do that. To focus on our own lives- I don't want to live some half-life, locked away in a tower or whatever. I... I guess what I'm trying to say is that you- by caring for the people I love, you are protecting me."
She knows how cheesy her words sound, doesn't care. It's true- she can't have anyone else die for her. If Damon's way of protecting her means Bonnie's death, she'd rather not be protected at all.
Elena looks at Stefan, decides what he needs is sleep. So she pulls him up and begins to undress him, the now slightly wrinkled suit jacket that she carelessly flings to the side. Grumbling a bit at his shirt (so many tiny buttons), Stefan stops her and gives her a look.
"I can undress myself."
"But I like undressing you," she replies teasingly, glad to see a ghost of a smile form on his face in response.
In bed they instinctively move closer together, Elena pressing tightly against Stefan, her fingers running through his hair while he wraps his arm around her waist. Out of habit their toes curl together, their bodies becoming completely intertwined. They're tired, tired beyond words, but Elena needs to see Stefan smile again, just once more before she goes to sleep.
"I wish I could have danced with you more," she says.
"Your feet would have regretted it."
"You're a great dancer."
"You're biased."
"I am," she whispers and wriggles even closer. "Are you sure there aren't pictures of you from the 60s?"
"Destroyed."
"I suppose the ones from tonight will do," she sighs, thinking of her camera tucked away in her purse.
Stefan whispers in her ear, "Those are better."
"Why?"
"Because you're in them," he says, a shy smile finally forming across his face.
They kiss softly, gently, and Elena thinks that maybe they'll both be able to sleep tonight.