Hi, this is a collaboration FanFic. We write individually as Sleepwell and SilverFoxPunk, please feel free to check out our other stories. This is our second collaboration and we hope you like it! P.S. We love reviews as well as PMs ;)
I toss fitfully, the slippery leather couch threatening to cough me out onto the unwelcoming hardwood floor. Why isn't it daylight yet? This night is endless, my thoughts twist as the clock on the mantel ticks away, each minute lasting a lifetime.
In my head, her fateful words repeat, "It's OK to love both of them. I did."
Again and again, I picture Damon's face shifting from tenderness, caring, to dawning realization - he is once again trapped in a hopeless vortex of loving someone whose heart is divided.
But is my heart divided? I don't know anymore. There are too many emotions, thoughts, memories swirling around inside of me. I'm so confused. I feel so torn, so lost. My head hurts. My eyes are burning with lack of sleep and rivers of spent tears.
Stefan loves me. My heart knows this to be true. And now Damon says he loves me, the words confirming what I feel I've always known. The senseless, impossible part is that I love him too. How is this possible?
Was it only hours ago that Katherine was gleefully telling us that Stefan has sacrificed everything, including me, the supposed love of his life, for his brother? I get it, he feels responsible for his brother. Stefan will do anything for the people he loves; he's like me in that way. And he loves Damon. Despite everything.
But my mind's eye returns to Damon's face as Katherine utters those words. I focus on the tremble of his lip, the sorrow and fear in his beautiful blue eyes as he drops his gaze from mine. Yet it is the quick flash of knowing replaced almost instantaneously with the expression of guilt that betrays him. He can't look me in the eye.
Because he knows that Stefan chose him. That Stefan will do anything for him. So, where does that leave me?
I flip onto my stomach, covering my ears with my hands. I long to shut out the voices, the memories of this fateful, horrid night. But it's not working. I'm assuaged with visions of myself trying fruitlessly to contact Stefan. Frantically, repeatedly dialing his cell phone. I am flipped immediately to voice mail. My messages go unanswered.
Except the last time I call. When I hear that monster's unmistakable voice on the line. Announcing in his commanding, condescending tone, "He's mine now. Leave him be, Elena. He is not coming back to you. For the next decade he belongs to me. Oh, and sweetheart? Please pass on my regards to Damon, who I trust is feeling better."
My heart drops. What the hell is going on? I must scream those words aloud. Because the next thing I am hearing is his voice, but it's not him, it can't be him. Stefan speaks to me gently, with love. This Stefan is hard, cold, detached. "Elena, let it be. You have to let me go. Now pass the phone to Damon." And, god help me, I do.
I can hear their exchange. Stefan is equally harsh with his brother. "Don't come after me, I don't want that. I did this for you, for us. Don't put yourself in danger. If something were to happen to you, I couldn't bear it. "His voice trails off as Damon quickly tightens the receiver against his ear.
Except I still hear the tortured whisper, the words that are adding to my confusion, my torment. "Please remember that I did this because I love you. I will always love you."
I can't stand it any longer. I jump up and stride over to the heavy, closed drapes and throw them back. The shadows are retreating, it is almost dawn. I pound my forehead with a clenched fist. I can't believe what I've done. The images won't stop, the visions won't leave me in peace, they keep playing out like a movie reel stuck in a loop.
I see Damon. He looks stricken as he hands me back the now silent cell phone. The werepoison is leaving his system yet he is still so pale. I sit down on the bed beside him, placing my hands over his. I need to comfort him. I need to be comforted.
"It will be OK, right? We'll find him. He's smart, he'll get away from Klaus." And without pausing for breath, I continue, "But what does Klaus want with Stefan? Damon, what do you think is going on? What did Klaus mean when he said that Stefan belongs to him for the next decade?"
Damon shakes his bowed head. None of his usual clever, smart aleck remarks forthcoming. The expression on his face is inscrutable, his hands clench around mine, drawing them to his chest.
Pulling free, I strike at him wildly. "Damon. Please. What are we going to do? What am I going to do?" My voice breaks; I can't hold back my tears any longer. My chest hurts, I can barely breathe.
The first sobs are a release of tension. Tears that I've been holding back while Damon lay dying. When I finally realize, no, finally admit to myself that I can't lose him. My tears become sobs of apprehension, trepidation for what is to come. Fear for Stefan. I don't want to lose him either.
Through my blurred vision, I see Damon struggling. He appears torn, conflicted. He stands up abruptly and walks to the middle of the room, looking unsure. I need comforting and he knows it. But he is struggling with his own inner demons, thoughts that I sense don't include me.
He is so lost in his anguish that he doesn't hear me approach. I wrap my arms tightly around his waist. He automatically pulls me closer; one hand holds me softly behind my head. I place my ear against his chest. I long to hear a heartbeat, briefly yearning for what cannot be.
He strokes my hair and I cling to him desperately. I feel so adrift. My world is collapsing, the strain of the past two years threatens my tenuous grasp on sanity. Looking up, I see my uncertainty, pain and grief mirrored on his face.
"I don't want to feel like this any more." I say. "I just want to feel - something else." I let go of him long enough to put a hand on his face. Before I can question myself, I reach up to kiss him. I press my lips hungrily against his and know that he tastes my tears. He stumbles back, moving away like he's stung.
"Jesus, Elena. No! This is confusing enough." He runs a hand through his hair. "I can't... I can't just switch how I feel on and off again. Not with you. Don't you understand that?"
I'm crushed. I need him to need me, to be with me. I'm craving contact. Ignoring his plea, I walk towards him and take his hand, squeezing it, begging him with my eyes.
"I'm not asking you to switch off. I'm not, Damon. I want all of you. I want, this -" I step in towards him and place my hand over his silent heart. He responds, his own hand closes over mine. I want him to believe me, to know that I yearn for him.
But is that really true? Do I want Damon? I think I do. I know now for certain that I love him. I tell myself this is right, this is what I need. I have to to be with him, to feel anchored, secure. I want him to make me feel safe.
"You're just upset. You miss Stefan, you -" He begins, but I interrupt him.
"I am upset. I do miss Stefan. But you love me, Damon. I thought those words were going to be your last. I thought I was losing you forever, and I realized I couldn't bear it. Don't make me lose both of you, not in one night." I burst into tears again and this time he raises both his hands and places them gently on my face, using his thumbs to brush my tears away.
"Shh, don't cry. Please don't cry." He says. He begins to kiss me, removing his fingers one by one. "Come on now. I'm sorry. Please stop. For me." His kisses brush over my soft, damp, salty skin. The last kiss brushes my lips as gently as a sigh. He is going to leave me, I can sense it.
I can't let that happen so I push back against him, opening my mouth to him, catching his lips in mine. He pulls away yet again, and looks deep into my eyes.
He is searching for something. But what? Proof that this is truly what I want? Or is he questioning himself, wondering if being with me is okay? Whatever he sees in my eyes allows him to sweep me off my feet into his arms and carry me back to his bed.
Now there is no hesitation, no second-guessing, no pause for thought. There is just us tearing off clothes – our own, each other's - anything that gets in the way of our desperate hands touching each other's skin.
He thrusts into me before I have barely got him out of his jeans. I cry out and grip at the sheets. He pushes deep inside me, and I reach with one hand to grab the headboard and push back against him, looking into his eyes as he makes love to me with a ferocity that belies his earlier protests.
Our ardor is raw and honest. There is nothing sweet or tender about it. This is not about love, it is about pain. It is the expression of a longing that has been buried for far too long. A longing that I know Damon has carried around since he first saw Stefan and I together. A desire that I haven't allowed myself to acknowledge until tonight.
He comes with a shudder, abruptly, with no warning- no murmured endearments, no shouts of passion. He collapses at my side and rolls away, barely touching me. I look at him, knowing that I have sweat glistening on my brow, that strands of hair are stuck across my face.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so, well... It's just that I..." He tries to say, but I shake my head.
"Don't apologize, not for this. Not for being with me." I roll over onto his chest and he places an arm around me as I lean on him and look up at his face. "I wanted it too."
"I know, but I was rough. I mean I hope I didn't hurt... Well, I don't want you to think that I wasn't thinking about you. Or that I can't be gentle or..." His tongue trips over itself as he strives to find the right words.
This isn't like him. If there are two things Damon never becomes flustered by it is women and words. Usually sarcastic, caustic words. I am almost flattered that he is struggling with expressing himself, that he is trying to explain his actions. I decide to put him out of his misery. I kiss his chest then look up at him again.
"I'm not going anywhere. This isn't the only time we'll be together." I smile, hoping that this is what he wants to hear. He looks relieved and closes his eyes. There is silence as we both try to catch our breath. I know he can hear my heart pounding, its return to a regular rhythm. Marvel at his self-control. I know that he must be hungry.
He looks up at the ceiling and says quietly, almost sadly, "Stay with me." I nod and curl into his body. Until I can't. I get up slowly, carefully. He isn't asleep but he makes no move to stop me. I throw on his shirt and tiptoe to the door.
Glancing back at him, I take in his naked, beautiful body stretched out amongst the rumpled sheets. He has an arm thrown across his face. I hesitate, unsure again.
"Just go, Elena." He sounds almost angry, pain evident in every syllable he enunciates. "We'll talk in the morning. We both just need some time alone. I love you. Always will. It'll all be OK, you'll see."
I descend the stairs, pausing on each step, terrified that he is wrong. How could things possibly be all right? Stefan is with Klaus. I am with Damon. Our entire world in chaos. I don't know what to think about the night's events, where to go from here. I don't know anything anymore, nothing is as it was.
I glance back up the stairs, wonder what he makes of all this, who he is thinking of. Because I do know one thing with certainty. It is not my heart alone that is divided.