Deals with self-harm and suicide. If that offends you, I apologize, and don't read farther.
Elena's phone wouldn't stop ringing so she answered it just to shut it up.
"Lo?"
"Elena!"
She rubbed her eyes, unsuccessfully trying to find sleep. "Ric?"
"Where are you!"
She groaned, wanting to sleep so badly, but dragged herself up instead. "In my car. On the side of the road."
"Tell me where you are. I'll come and pick you up."
"I don't know where I am." Elena tried to stretch the kinks out of her neck and crawled into the backseat. "And I don't want you to pick me up."
"Elena."
"Seriously." She unzipped her suitcase and pulled out a brush. If the sun would rise, so would she. "Ric. Just – no."
"Elena-"
Her phone beeped and she pulled it away from her ear. "Ugh. I have to go. I have another call."
"Elena-"
Whatever he was going to say got cut off when she switched lines.
"Elena."
Ric made her feel guilt – the voice on the other end of the line made her feel dread. "Damon."
"Where are you?"
"I needed." She swallowed. "I needed to get away."
He hissed. Elena had never been this scared in her life, not even while staring Klaus down, moments before her death. "If you do not tell me where you are, I will make Barbie's mom trace your call."
"Damon," she stuttered.
"Elena." He was much more composed than Elena, and yet he was still able to lace his words with equal parts malice and honey.
"Shit."
"Shit is right, Princess."
"No. Shit." There was another wail, and blue and red lights flashed one more time. "Hang on for a second."
"Don't you dare put me down."
"Ma'am."
Elena slowly got out of her car, hand white around her phone. "H-hi."
"Are you alright?"
"Uhm." She looked down at her rumpled shirt. "Uh. Yeah. I got lost." That wasn't a lie. Elena had no idea where she was. "And, instead of trying to drive around dead tired, I, uh. Pulled over to sleep." She relaxed her fingers, not squeezing her phone so tightly, and waved it weakly. "Cell service but no wifi."
"Are you sure you're okay?"
He was nice. He reminded her of a male Sheriff Forbes. Somehow. She laughed, high-strung and nervous. "Never been pulled over by the police. Or. Had them stop to see if I need help."
"Where are you heading?"
"Uh." Shit. Was she still on the phone with Damon? Or had they disconnected? "Charleston." It was the only place she could think of.
"Keep going straight. First right and that'll take you back to I95."
"Thanks." At least she knew how to get to the highway, even if she had to abandon Charleston.
"And a gas station."
Finally, her smile was real. "Thanks."
The phone call was disconnected by the time she got back in the car, unaware if that was good or bad.
Refueled, both car and body, she made it from Richmond to Savannah in about eight and a half hours. It didn't seem too bad, reaching a bit of traffic.
She checked into some little motel for the night, even though it wasn't quite four. That was fine. She got a shower, and walked to another diner. There wasn't anything on TV, and she was okay with that, too.
Her phone rang, and she hesitated, surprised that it hadn't rung anymore: just Ric and Damon.
A glance at the caller ID told her everything: Damon.
"Hey."
"Where are you?"
"Charleston."
"Don't lie, to me, Elena. I'm here, all the way in Charleston, and Liz calls to tell me you're in Georgia. Why are you in Georgia?"
Where are we? Georgia. We can't be in Georgia.
Finally, Elena broke down.
-x-
She called the only person she could think of. Elena couldn't talk to Ric about death; Jenna had only died a few months ago. She couldn't call Caroline; she was stuck at seventeen. Bonnie lost her grandma –and now mother – because of her. Jeremy had lost Vicki and Anna.
"Elena."
"Hey."She slipped farther down into the tub, trying to relax.
"I hope you're in the same place you were two hours ago."
She hummed. "What happened when you died?"
"Excuse me?"
"Your own father shot you and Stefan, right? What was it like?"
"What was what like?"
"Dying." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Did it hurt?"
"Elena-"
"How about the time between when you died and when you woke up? Did you get to see your mother?"
"What – Elena…"
"I really want my mom, Damon. Only she would know what to do."
"What did you do?"
"No. I meant about Klaus. And everything. Mother knows best, and all. Then again." She sighed. "She'd probably try to kill you and Stefan and Caroline."
"Where are you, Elena?"
"In some motel in some – I don't know. Where am I?"
"What did you do?"
She looked down at her wrists, at herarms, at the cuts littering them, at the pink bath water and the razor sitting on the edge of the bathtub.
"Nothing. I did nothing." Jenna still died, Miss Shelia was dead, and Bonnie's mom was… undead. "Nothing." The razor was cool in her fingers – or was it her fingers that were cool?
"Don't lie to me."
"What makes you think I'm lying?"
"Your heartbeat betrays you, Princess."
"I'm not a princess, Damon. I'm far from it." She brought her knees to her chest and watched a trail of pink water roll down her leg. Maybe… Oh. She hissed in, following the droplet with the razor. She watched, waiting, until the blood drop merged with the trail of pink water.
"Elena – what are you doing?"
"Nothing, Damon. Do you ever wish you had died? And stayed dead?"
"No." Again, down her leg, deeper this time. It burned. "Then I wouldn't have met you."
The razor slipped even easier next time, Elena's skin giving absolutely no resistance to the blade.
"Where are you, Elena?"
"I already told you, Damon. I'm in some motel."
"Which motel, where?"
The bath water wasn't pink enough. No more funny business. On her other leg, she made the blade dip deeper, pulled it down harder and quicker. "Not in Charleston." Again. "That's all that I remember." Again.
"You're somewhere in Georgia." Again. "Near Savannah, right?"
"Oh, Georgia?" Again. "Like the time you kidnapped me?"
"That's a little extreme, don't you think?"
The blade felt odd in Elena's left hand, but symmetry: her right arm needed to reflect her left. "Five minutes, right?" Left was non-dominant and shakier, too, and these cuts hurt. She felt them more, and watched in horrified fascination as red beads formed her skin, pooling together to drip into the water. Line again and again and again. "Some people can unhinge their jaws, Damon. You're not one of them."
"Elena – Elena, please tell me what you're doing. I'm – I'm almost there. Please."
"I'm doing nothing, Damon." He didn't know where she was, either. 'The crook of your elbow is where they take blood, right?' Cut after cut after cut after cut until it was all one giant cut, blood seeping out, so sore that she was finally crying.
"Elena."
"Please."
"It's okay."
"It's not okay." And it wasn't, nothing was. Her right hand had the razor, now, hacking with reckless abandon, symmetry forgotten, chasing the pain, clinging on to it. The next cut hurt less, and the one after that even less. Numb. It was a feeling she hadn't felt in a long time. "It doesn't hurt." That was a good thing. "It's okay."
"Elena."
"It's okay," she said, lounging against the back of the tub. And it really was, she thought. 'I can see my mom again, and Jenna, too.' "It's okay, Damon." There was no answer, and the phone fell out of her limp hand, slipping down her body, over the lace of her underwear, and into the pink water. So pink. So numb. Everything felt wonderful, and she was tired.
She managed one blink, and saw the eyes of an Angel, all grey and blue and shimmering, before she was out.