Happy Holidays everyone, I hope you enjoy!
The usual copyright BS. I don't own The Vampire Diaries and I ain't makin any money off this.
~The Last Ronin~
My eyes fly open as light peeks through the curtains and I glance at my alarm clock. 6:30am. I sit up and rub the sleep from my eyes, a yawn creeping from my parched throat at the same time, my breath fogging the frigid air. Blindly I grope for the half empty blood bag on my nightstand and take a long pull. For a moment hope fills me: this blood tastes horrible! That hope quickly shifts to disappointment as I realize the taste has nothing to do with my sire bond and everything to do with the fact that my snack has been sitting unrefrigerated for too long, but I quickly squash it. Today is going to be a good day - a very good day if I've anything to say about it - and I'm not letting this stupid sire bond ruin it.
Besides, there are advantages to being sired, even if none of my friends realize that. Not that any of them can really understand what I'm feeling. None of them understand what it means to be sired to someone they love, to someone who loves them back.
But enough of that. There'll be time enough for those thoughts later. Today I don't want to fight with anyone. Today I just want to be with my friends...my family.
Stretching, I pull myself from beneath my warm blankets and set about getting ready for the day. I've plenty of time and could sleep in for a while yet but in truth I haven't really slept all night. I couldn't. I'm just too giddy with anticipation for tonight. One thought has dominated my mind for the past week.
Damon is coming tonight.
x-x-x-x-x
"Are you sure it tastes ok?" I ask for what is probably the hundredth time. I know I'm being a pain but I can't help it - I'm too nervous.
"Relax Elena, everything tastes fine," Matt answers with a laugh as he alternates stirring a couple of pots. Oddly, it's been my relationship with Matt, of all my friends, that has suffered the least since I became a vampire. I always thought he hated me for being involved with the person who killed his sister, but he's been the most understanding of anyone since all this happened. Maybe he just feels guilty for being the reason I'm...dead, technically.
"I'm sorry, it's just that my sense of taste hasn't returned yet so..." According to Stefan, taste for anything other than blood will come back in time but for now everything still tastes like garbage to me. I'm not even sure if Caroline has gotten her own sense of taste back yet.
"Elena, it's fine. Trust me," Matt reaches over to squeeze my hand and grins, "besides, that's why I'm here. If it tastes bad you can just blame me."
"Matt..." I start but he waves me off and returns to his cooking. What did I ever do to deserve a friend like him?
"Go get the table set," he suggests, "really, I got this Elena. I've been on my own for a long time and I've picked up quite a bit from the Grill."
I sigh and start grabbing plates and silverware. He's right, I know. I just need to relax. The house could burn down tonight and it would still be the most normal gathering we've all had in years. I just need to calm down. Everything is going to be fine.
x-x-x-x-x
"Merry Christmas," I say as cheerfully as I can manage as Caroline and Tyler walk through the door. They're the first to arrive and, honestly, they're the ones I'm most nervous about.
"I'm sorry about your mom and your pack," I whisper as I hug Tyler.
"Not your fault," he says quietly and tries to smile though it doesn't quite reach his eyes, "thanks though."
He excuses himself to say hello to Matt and leaves me alone with Caroline.
"How's he holding up?" I ask quietly, though I'm sure he still hears me.
"Not good," she admits, very subdued for her, "but all things considering, he could be worse. He'll get through this."
"If there's anything you need," I offer, "you know I'm here."
"We know," she smiles and heads off to say hello to Matt as well.
I sigh; relieved that things aren't nearly as awkward as I'd thought they would be. Caroline has made no secret of her disapproval of my relationship with the elder Salvatore brother and it's been gnawing at me ever since I told her. She's tried to act understanding but her dislike of Damon runs deep, though I'm not exactly sure of the reason. He saved her life after all. Just like he saved mine.
x-x-x-x-x
I feel him before I see him. I was busy placing food on the table so Caroline had answered the door for me. Still, the moment he enters the room I know. It's like the air itself has become charged with electricity. Suddenly, no matter what is wrong with the world I feel like everything is going to be alright. All because he's here.
My sire.
"Damon," I smile as I whisper his name and relief washes through me. I'd been afraid he wouldn't come. It had been a silly fear though. Of course he was going to come tonight. He's been the most constant presence in my life these past few years.
"You're just in time," I turn to him, trying not to grin like an idiot.
"Aren't I always?" he grins himself and my smile gets even bigger.
For a long moment we stand looking at one another and I toy with the hem of my sweater as the silence stretches on. A few times I open my mouth to say something and then close it before any sound comes out. Where do I even start? There's just so much that I want to say.
"Can we talk. Later, before you leave?" I whisper at last. His mouth tightens a bit as he considers.
"Sure," he finally nods, though his eyes don't reveal what he may be thinking. For another long second he looks at me before he slips passed to go talk with Sheriff Forbes. I can't help but shiver as he brushes against me, heat pooling in my belly and I have to grip the table to stop myself from attacking him right here.
"Deep breaths," I remind myself silently but regret that advice instantly as his scent fills my head. I groan.
Stop it! How am I supposed to convince him that my desire to be with him isn't a result of the sire bond if I practically turn into a dog in heat every time he's near? I have to control myself!
Even though I know this, it takes me several minutes to calm down enough that I trust myself to let go of the table.
"You ok Elena?" Jeremy approaches me slowly, Bonnie right next to him.
"Fine Jer," I smile at my brother and hug him. He stiffens for a half second but returns the gesture almost as quickly. If I weren't a vampire I wouldn't have even noticed his hesitation.
"You sure?" he asks as I release him to hug Bonnie and she gives me a questioning look too.
"Really," I laugh, "I promise. Now go round everyone up for dinner. We're about ready."
He gives me a look that says he clearly doesn't believe me but goes to do what I asked anyway.
"Elena," Bonnie crosses her arms over her chest and looks at me, "what was that? And don't you dare say 'nothing' either."
"Fine," I sigh and drag her to a corner of the room, "it's just been weeks since I've seen him, never mind been in the same room with him, and it caught me off guard."
"Jer..." she starts before realization of who I meant crosses her face, "Damon."
"Bonnie," I warn her as I hear the judgment in her voice, "I know you don't like it and I know you want to help but this is something I need to deal with on my own. So please, leave it alone."
She doesn't answer at first and holds my eyes with hers. After a minute she sighs and hugs me.
"I'm sorry, I just hope you know what you're doing Elena."
"So do I," I think as I hug her back, "so do I."
x-x-x-x-x
Dinner was a great success, at least from where I was sitting. The house didn't burn down, no one was attacked and apparently the food was good too. I think we're going to have to make Matt the designated chef for all our get-togethers. Assuming, of course, that we're all still alive - or as alive as some of us can be - for the next holiday. Given our track record of late, the week till New Years Eve could see a few more of us gone.
I shudder at that thought, my eyes roaming over the various members of my family until they come to rest on the one person I can't live without. The others would be painful to be sure, but if anything ever happened to him I...
None of that now! I mentally smack myself. It's Christmas Eve! No thoughts of death tonight. I look around the room at everyone bickering good-naturedly as they clear the table. Tonight I'm going to just be happy that everyone is alive and here.
Still, my eyes return to him, standing apart from the others, drink in hand and my heart gives a painful squeeze. He lifts the glass to his lips to take another sip before noticing me watching him. A smile tugs at his mouth and he tips the glass my way before draining what little remains.
"Later?" I mouth a reminder to him and he nods slightly. Good, I'm glad he remembers. I sigh and stop fiddling with the hem of my sweater - I hadn't even noticed I was doing that. Later we'll talk.
For now though, I have to organize the gift exchange we're doing tonight. Whoever came up with the idea of a Secret Santa deserves a medal. Having to buy one gift certainly cuts down on holiday costs...and makes things less chaotic. Not that that's even possible for this family of mine. Still, at least tonight is a good chaotic.
x-x-x-x-x
"I assumed my baby brother would be here tonight. Is he off moping about in an attic somewhere again?" Damon rolls his eyes and hands me a drink as he joins me on the couch. Despite myself I smile and lean against him for a moment. I don't linger long enough to see if he'll pull away - if he did it would shatter my resolve and I need all of it for what I'm about to do.
"He didn't want to come," I shrug - I'd invited Stefan to be polite but I hadn't really wanted him here if I'm being honest, "I guess he thought it would be awkward or something."
"Figures," my sire shakes his head and sips at his own drink, "so what is it you wanted to talk about? Now that everyone's left."
I don't answer right away, choosing to sip at my drink instead. The others had given me odd looks when they realized that Damon didn't seem to be getting ready to leave...even though the party was clearly over. I care about all of them, but this is personal business between him and I. For everyone's talk about wanting me to make my own choices they've none of them been too keen on letting me actually make those decisions.
"Us," I say at last and look at him out of the corner of my eye.
"Elena," he sighs and looks at me, "we talked about this. There can't be an 'us' so long as you're sired to me."
"Why is it that everyone seems so eager to ignore the fact that being sired doesn't change how I feel?" I grumble, "You told me yourself that how I feel is the reason I'm sired in the first place."
"Elena," he starts again but I stop him with a glare.
"You shut up and listen to me," I reach into the small end table drawer and pull out a blood bag, "I want you to tell me that it would make you happy if I couldn't drink from blood bags anymore. That it would make you happy if I couldn't stomach even a sip from them."
"What? No!" he starts to get up but I grab his arm and haul him back down.
"Just do it Damon," I plead, "please. Trust me."
He looks at me for a long minute before sighing.
"You're crazy, you know that?" he shakes his head but does as I asked. I can't disagree with that statement, but it's not for quite the reason he probably thinks.
He sits back and scowls at me and I press a finger to his lips, silencing the argument I know he's about to start. I swallow heavily and slowly raise the blood bag to my mouth. He starts to protest but I clamp my hand over his own mouth and take a long pull on the bag.
For a second my stomach starts to rebel but I concentrate harder. I continue to drink and as I do I see Damon's eyes begin to widen.
"How?" he asks once I finish. Turning, I cup his face in my hands and press a light kiss to his lips.
"Because I know you Damon," I say quietly, "and I know that despite you saying you'd be happy if I couldn't drink from blood bags, I know you don't mean it. Knowing that, I can think around the sire bond. I can overcome it."
He stares at me, mouth open and some strange emotion that looks suspiciously like pride dances in his eyes.
"It's not easy," I admit and cough, the blood not sitting too well in my stomach, "but clearly I can do it. So please, don't push me away just because of this stupid sire bond."
"Elena..." he hugs me but I can hear in his voice that he's still not convinced.
"Damon, please," I whisper, "tell me what I have to do to make you believe me."
He sets down his glass and gets up to look out the window. Snow falls steadily outside and I find myself wishing we'd met a much longer time ago. Perhaps if we had grown up together, built snowmen and got into snowball fights, things would be easier. But easy had never been part of my love for him...or his - and I know he does - for me. Loving Stefan had been easy, and it's why I can't picture myself with him anymore. That thought, however, tells me exactly what's holding my sire back.
"You chose him," Damon whispers at last and my heart nearly breaks at the pain contained within those three words.
Without thinking I get up and wrap my arms around him tightly, clutching him to me. For a while I just hold him like this, praying I can make him understand.
"I'm sorry," I say at last, "Stefan came into my life at a time when I desperately needed someone. He helped me through a very bad time and I'm always going to love him for that. But Damon, I didn't choose to go back to him that night because I love him more than you."
He stiffens in my arms as I say that and then slowly turns to face me. Gently he presses on my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. I don't resist and I can see him looking for some sign that I'm lying. But I'm not, and I know that he knows that.
"Why?" his voice shakes and I swallow heavily, wetting my suddenly dry throat.
"I went back to your brother because I was a coward," I can feel the tears starting as I recall that night, "as far as I knew you were both dying and I desperately wanted to be with you. But I was too scared. You see, watching Stefan die would have hurt, a lot, but I would have been ok eventually. But Damon, if I'd had to watch you die, that would have killed me. So I chose him. And I'm sorry if that seems stupid and I can't even begin to say how sorry I am that that choice hurt you."
He's quiet as I finish my confession, though his arms wrap around me tighter. Slowly we drift over to the couch and sink down on to the soft cushions.
"Damon?" I say after the silence stretches on to the point of making my fingers twitch towards the hem of my sweater once more, "Damon, please say something."
"You silly girl," he says quietly and shakes his head, "time and again you've torn out my heart and stomped on it, yet I'm still here. You couldn't get rid of me if you tried."
I start breathing again in time for him to pull me up into a long, possessive kiss. I eagerly return it, my arms tightening around him. We don't move for some time and in the hallway a clock chimes off the hour. Twelve rings; I smile, more giddy than any kid waiting for Santa Claus.
"Merry Christmas Damon," I whisper and snuggle closer to him, "I love you."
"Merry Christmas Elena," he presses a kiss to the top of my head, "I love you too."