Falling Into Place

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A/N: There's Stelena involved in this, just enough to explain the gap of time when Stefan disappeared and when he appeared in Katherine's car. I feel like this could have been a potential moment for Stelena to say goodbye, thus ensuring a Delena moment =) So, I hope you enjoy. Comments are always wonderful.

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Damon's phone goes off again, and Elena can see his eyes flash dangerously as he answers. His fingers are practically white as they clench around his phone, and she thinks of trying to stop his inevitable rampage; but she can't, not right now. This is something he needs time to think about, something having her around will only complicate. Besides, her lips burn just from looking at him as he leaned in enough to give her the impression something would happen.

When did she stop feeling guilty about the thought of kissing him? She had been thinking about it much more than she should have, considering everything that had gone on. It wasn't like it had been with Stefan. The understanding they had of each other, the times he'd seen her in horrendous moods that would send anyone else flying from the room, their arguments, their advice. Stefan had been easy to care about, because it was just a high school relationship like any other teenager would have - at least until he got his boxers in a knot about the vicious vampires coming to rip her throat out.

She glances back at Damon as she heads for the stairwell. His eyes are silver storm clouds, and she wonders how long it will take before he calms down enough to talk to her more about it.

"Elena?"

Damon is holding the phone away from his as he looks, confused, at her. He's still fuming, but tries to calm down for her. Only her. The thought makes her shiver.

"I'm just going to wait upstairs, okay?" Elena points at the stairs and offers him a gentle smile.

He nods, then waves her away as he begins to snap back into the phone. She rolls her eyes, making her way up the stairs slowly, feeling the aching in her muscles that shouldn't be there. It must be all the emotional stress, because Damon sure as hell wasn't going to allow her to participate in his secret plan. She steps carefully through Damon's room, considering curling up in his bed and perhaps reading a bit from his favorite novel, Gone With The Wind. But she still has the adrenaline rush to deal with, so she cracks open the door to the porch.

The night air is cool, brushing back her hair like gentle fingers. Elena closes her eyes for a brief second as her fingers curl around the edge of the wall.

"Elena."

Her brown eyes flash open and dart to the corner, breath hitching as a familiar shape detaches itself from the darkness, "Stefan?"

Those golden eyes are free from the dark compulsion and madness they've held for so long, and he looks nearly like he did before all of this. It makes her want to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him to her, kiss his cheek. But there is still something there: the guilt, rampant on his face, on his hollow cheekbones. It's something that will never leave him.

"You're free," Elena says, taking a small step towards him. "How does it feel?"

Stefan smiles tightly, the first non-sarcastic smile she's seen on him in months, "I never had much time to contemplate it. The compulsion made me glad to be where I was, at least until Klaus involved you."

"So, you're back now." Elena hugs her shoulders tightly. As nice as it is to see him - she can't help the feelings that spring to her chest, not after all their time spent together - she doesn't want him coming in the house.

"Not for long," Stefan says, holding out a paper. "I need you to sign this."

"What is it?" She holds it up to the light, eyes widening as she realizes that it's the paperwork to reinstate her as owner of the Salvator mansion. "I thought I already owned your home."

Stefan shrugs, looking slightly sheepish, "I used complusion on the realtor that wrote up the original paperwork, made him forget that he'd ever signed it over to you in the first place. The moment you sign here -" he points to the blank line on the bottom right of the document, "no one besides yourself is allowed inside, unless you invite them." His eyes glint meaningfully.

There's a lump in her throat that won't go away.

"You won't be able to get in," Elena breathes, finally understanding.

Stefan shakes his head, reaching out slowly to take her hand in his own. She doesn't resist him, trying to ignore the tingles as his thumb brushes her own. It feels so nice to touch him so carelessly like this again after everything.

"I wanted to know that you were safe before I left," he confesses.

He remembers the promise he made her from the very beginning, the promise that he would always keep her safe no matter the cost. Even after all this, when she doesn't want him anymore, and he's been through the darkest period of his life, he still remembers. It was such a little thing, so long ago.

"Stefan." Elena doesn't resist the impulse anymore, reaching up with her other hand to brush his cheek softly. "You'll find someone again, I promise. You'll find someplace where no one recognizes you, and you'll find someone else to love," she whispers, feeling mortified as the tears gather in her eyes. "You'll love her as much as you loved me."

"Who says I stopped loving you?" Stefan's voice is so quiet and so broken that she can't do it anymore, can't pretend. She launches up, a desperate sob catching in her throat as their lips collide. It's not a long kiss, just enough to remind Elena how much she is about to lose. The moment she pulls away, she meets his eyes, and it's like the first day they met, like the first night they spent making love in his bed. There is no darkness in his eyes.

She has to force herself to pull away.

"Please," Stefan whispers, voice hoarse, "just sign it."

Elena takes the pen from his hand, eyes scrolling down the paper until she finds the blank line. She looks at him again for a minute, wishing that it was easier to let go, wishing she could just turn it off.

"Don't let him turn you," Stefan says, reading her expression instantly. "Don't lose your humanity."

"I won't," Elena says, trying to keep her face clear of emotion. More than anything, she doesn't want him to see how torn she is on the issue, and how guilty that makes her feel. Because she has considered what it would be like, what it would feel like once she wasn't human anymore. But something always stops her; perhaps her humanity, trying to lend her reason for once.

"You're lying." Darkness flickers in Stefan's eyes, sending goosebumps flaring across the back of her neck and arms. "Damn it, Elena. I'm trying to keep you safe, and all you're doing is condemning yourself. Stop taking the easy way out!"

Anger flares in her chest, "I'm not taking the easy way out. You said you want me safe, Stefan. Every minute I stay human, I put myself and everyone I love in danger. I'd be protecting myself if I turned." But there's a weariness in her eyes; she knows that turning won't make her invincible, will hardly solve all her problems.

Stefan's eyes are blazing holes into her soul, and there's nothing left to say, to do, except brush his cheek with the back of her hand thoughtfully, say goodbye with the silence in the depths of her brown eyes, and sign her name with a flourish. When she looks back up again, she's alone, the scent of him still lingering on her lips. Their last meeting was an argument, and the knowledge haunts her.

"I knew it would be Damon who would save you," Elena says, knowing that he can hear her. He's down on the sidewalk, eyes dark and steely as he faces the house. He's trying to be strong for her. And he's not alone.

"Elena," Damon's sarcastically cheerful voice rings out, "care to explain why I can't get in my own house?"

She can't help but smile at his predicament, "Why don't you ask your brother?"

Damon turns, and just stares at Stefan for a minute. They don't touch, don't hug, don't say a word, but it appears that they don't need to. A minute later Stefan is gone, the imprint of his muddy shoes the only proof that he was ever here.

"Can I come in now?" Damon calls up a second later, voice clouded with something she can't place.

"I need the night to myself. Go find someone else to bother," Elena says quietly, staring in the direction that Stefan might have headed as she ignores Damon's sputtering. The trees are quivering from the breeze, but if she focuses hard enough, she can picture Stefan's face and his feet slapping against the ground as he runs far, far away from her, from his brother, from his home.

The ache is much worse now, but she prefers to think of it as numbness as she walks back inside and collapses on Damon's bed. There isn't enough energy in her arms to reach for the covers. The tears burn in her eyes, and she wishes that she wasn't so weak. She hates this about herself, how she loves blindly and recklessly, even if it consumes her. She always crashes, then is left to pick up the pieces. Her thoughts drift to Damon. If she doesn't let him in he'll probably find some harmless, late night jogger to snack on; probably not, but she'd rather think of him as a monster then realize how much he's changed, how much she cares about him.

"Fine, you can come in," she whispers, knowing he'll be listening for her to give in, "but no being a smart-ass."

She barely hears the door squeak on its hinges, and it barely registers when Damon slides in behind her, pulls the covers up over them, and wraps his arms about her. She can't face him, doesn't want him to see her cry over his own brother.

"You're a bitch," he says cockily, his tone masking what he's trying not to feel. "I don't know why I love you." Damon kisses her neck, says nothing more.

Her only answer is to slide her fingers through his, squeeze his hand until it hurts.

"He gave me ownership of this house, to protect me from himself," Elena says a moment later, her voice scratchy with tears. "For just a minute, he was back."

Damon's sigh hits the back of her neck, "My brother, ever the hero."

Her eyes stare into the nothingness, shapes blurring before her. Then she turns to look at Damon, lets him run his hand over her cheek and down her neck.

"You're the hero too," Elena says with a little nod, "when you want to be." The sight of the uncertain smile spreading across his lips puts her at ease, somewhat. He believes her, something she needs when there's no one else to trust.

Damon's hand skims over her soft brown hair, "Go to sleep. I'll keep the monsters away." He smiles that arrogant little smirk that he knows irritates her, but it's such a part of him that she's given up chastising. It does no good saying anything, because ironically enough, he can't stop the monsters that are in her memories.

Elena's eyes flutter closed, and she can't help the smile that traces her lips as he kisses her forehead.