Title: Never The Hero
Disclaimer: I don't own anything! :P
Characters/Pairings: Damon-centric (pov), Damon/Elena
Spoilers/Warnings: Based on the tv-show, spoiler for last Elena/Damon scene in 2x08.
Summary: It feels like there's a glass wall in front of you, setting you apart from true bliss and it's so much more cruel than a solid, cement wall could ever be, because, at least, if you couldn't see, you wouldn't anticipate, you wouldn't envy, you wouldn't tremble with longing and despair… But, maybe, that should be enough for you. Because she is Elena and she is alive not to love you another day and you are alive to hope another day and have that hope crush down one more day.
Author's Notes: I kind of rushed this because I wanted it to coincide with a friend's birthday, since I dedicated it to her, but between work and commuting, I'm glad I even got it done! :P
Also, thanks to everyone who has been reading and adding my The Vampire Diaries stories to their favorite stories. I'm so glad you guys enjoy them. I like writing povs, so if you have any suggestions for any scene, any pairing let me know! :)
~ English is not my native language, so excuse any crappiness and/or mistakes
Comments will be greatly appreciated! :)
NEVER THE HERO
You have no idea why you are surprised. Why you allowed yourself to be surprised.
Isn't it how things always go, Damon? Isn't it what you really deserve?
Elena sees Stefan. Only Stefan and that will never change.
What? You thought it would change, just because you came along with Stefan?
Just because you wanted, with all your might, to save her?
So did he and he is more important, more convincing with his broody face and moist eyes.
When you saw her at the top of the stairs, safe and unharmed, exhaling the soothing breath of comfort, of survival did you think she would attribute it to you?
When she set her eyes on you, did you really think it was you she was seeing?
Why would you think that?
You are Damon, you are a frenemy, not a friend.
Someone she is forced to rely upon, but doesn't trust.
Certainly not with her life. And can you really blame her?
You are a contradiction, Damon.
You are not sure who you are yourself.
Good, bad?
Tormented, incorrigible?
A little while ago you didn't even know who you wanted to be, either.
So, can you blame her for being mistrustful?
Do you even trust yourself?
What you have done, you cannot take back.
Decades of killing and deceit and mindless fun tied to the pain of another.
And for what?
Did it fill the void inside? Did it quench your thirst?
Maybe the blood one, for a while, but not the real one, not the deep one.
You were never accepted. You were never loved.
Not when you were a human, not now that you are a vampire.
Even the women you drunk from were under your spell, your mind control.
If they really knew who you were, what you were, do you think they would choose to be with you even for the duration of one single night?
They would run away screaming and you know it.
And that is what you deserve.
You are scary. You are cynical and cold.
Why would a woman want to stay close to you? No matter how much you would want that.
You had given up hope of anyone really accepting you when you found Elena.
Again, you came second. Story of your life. Always second.
Never the best, never the first.
Never the first to see and touch and smell and feel.
Though you feel all the same... The rejection and the pain, the worthlessness...
Yet, Stefan did it, like he always did.
Katherine loved him in her own twisted way.
Elena loves him now. For who he is. She knows he is a vampire, just like you.
She knows he has a past drenched in blood and carnage, but still she remains.
She stays by his side, not out of fear, or obligation, but out of love.
You wonder what it feels like. To be loved like that, unconditionally, tenderly. No strings attached, no manipulation. You have never known a love like that.
But that kind of love is what you long for, what you want.
This is what you've always wanted, even back when you were human.
And you need it even more now. Now, that you really are an abomination.
Now that there's really darkness in you and not just mortal curiosity and mischief.
You are not a boy making pranks anymore. Irresponsible and reckless.
You are a vampire and having someone to hold, is more important than ever.
Because really, anyone can be fascinated by a bad boy or fall for him, but a vampire?
A being without a soul, with a numb, soundless heart?
Who can love that? What reason is there for anyone to take this heart in her hands and warm it up with her dedication and affection?
Yet, Stefan gives her a reason. He is good. He knows what he wants, who he wants to be.
He has taken decisions and he is sticking with them, and you?
You are nothing but a feather in the wind.
A black feather floating in the air -magnificent, yet tragic - torn forever from its place, - never to belong somewhere else, never to come back -with a tip dipped in blood.
Red and dripping, scaring everyone away.
Scarring and staining.
And no one wants this sticky curse.
No one of worth.
So you are just left behind, on the background, on the outside looking in, like a spectator who can see, but never touch, never experience first-hand.
It feels like there's a glass wall in front of you, setting you apart from true bliss and it's so much more cruel than a solid, cement wall could ever be, because, at least, if you couldn't see, you wouldn't anticipate, you wouldn't envy, you wouldn't tremble with longing and despair…
You can see love, you can imagine its glow and warmth flowing into Stefan like a little firefly dancing around him, inside him, filling him with hope and exaltation, but you can never feel it yourself, you will never feel any, although, you know it must feel like heaven, the closest to paradise you could ever get, if you ever truly could.
You want to close your eyes and pretend beneath these eyelids of yours that you are as light as a bubble, safe and joyful, looking at the world through rose-colored glasses for once and not through blood-stained ones.
But, your bubble was burst long ago, maybe since the beginning, allowing you only a moment's happiness, if at all.
You can't have that, Damon. You can never have that.
Because you are lifeless inside.
Inside you are as dead as the trees in the forest and as empty as the void in space.
But you will still keep hanging on, because hope is a horrible thing.
It's ruthless and it's agonizing and it never ever allows you to let go, to disengage.
It's always there, like a thorn in your side, like an invisible cloak too tight for comfort, suffocating you and you can never get rid of it.
Maybe if hope wasn't there, life and un-life would be easier.
More bearable.
But maybe it's just as well.
Eternal torment is a fitting punishment for you, don't you think?
Because you know you have to be punished, don't you, Damon?
Fate must seek penance for you and what better work of penance is there than unrequited love, than cutting out your heart and giving it to someone with every chance you take, only to have it thrown back at you by destiny because you can never have it?
All you have is the pieces of a dead heart, too fragmented to glue back together and it doesn't even make a difference anymore.
You can feel it in your gut like a hedgehog squirming along your stomach, pricking and piercing, tearing you apart from the inside.
Like needles under your fingernails, scary and inevitable, because, perhaps, you could learn to fool anyone, anyone in this world or the next one, but you could never fool yourself.
Because deep inside you know who you are, what you are.
A creature of darkness forged in blood and cruelty and a creature like that is not capable of love or devotion. Not worthy of it, anyways.
Maybe you have become too good at fooling yourself, believed your own lie…
A creature like you is a like a dragon in the creepiest, blackest depths of a cave.
A creature like that yearns for the day it will be awakened and freed to wreak havoc and destruction.
To match the darkness inside it to the world and char it to its core.
Make it dark and bearable for its light-sensitive, love-sensitive eyes.
So, as you listened to your brother professing his undying love for Elena, his willingness to lay his life down for her, you knew you could do the same.
You knew you wanted to do the same. Because, really, just like he said, there is no other reason worthy enough for you to die.
No nobility and chivalry more fitting.
Not because you grew up in the time when this was the norm, the right thing to do, but also because it is who you want to be.
Who you want to prove yourself to be, in her eyes, in your eyes.
For once in your life you want to belong, to protect, not endanger out of your stupidity or ignorance.
But it can never happen.
So you wipe that silly smile off your face, the smile that sprang up when you saw her coming down the stairs, the smile that lingered long enough on your face, for you to see Elena's eyes drift back to Stefan, her true champion, her true knight.
And you let it freeze, you let it transform.
Maybe Elena didn't notice the adoration in your eyes, you think, maybe Elena didn't notice the relief you felt that she was okay and that for once you did something to ensure that, to aid.
Maybe all she saw, all she always sees is Stefan and you didn't make a fool of yourself.
Because you don't want her pity.
Her hatred is better than her pity.
At least it's as intense and passionate as your love could ever be, but never will and she will never know.
But surely, she could not miss the disappointment and the disillusionment.
Surely she could hear your heart sinking, your hope breaking one more time inside your prison of a chest.
She had to have heard it, right?
Because it was so loud, so deafening in your ears that you thought your eyes would water by the sheer intensity of it.
You just check if she looks alright and she does.
Apart from a few wounds she is safe and sound and healthy.
She is not harmed, so now you can let out the unneeded breath you have been holding and, maybe, that should be enough for you.
Because she is Elena and she is alive not to love you another day and you are alive to hope another day and have that hope crush down one more day.
But it's okay, you are used to it by now, even if it hurts.
Still, you wish you could hit your chest with your bare fist, just to make this heartache go away.
Just to create another pain, one you can explain and endure in order to overcome the overwhelming anguish in your heart.
Because ever since you met Elena, that is where you hurt and it never stops.
It aches and burns and itches and you couldn't stop it even if you ripped out your ribcage to scratch at it with claw-like hands.
"Hey come here. Are you hurt? Are you okay?" you hear Stefan ask as Elena runs into his arms and it's the words you wish you could say, it's your arms you wish you could open up to her, but you just stand there like a fool, in the middle of a now empty house with an empty heart.
And you hear her soft moans as she crushes her face to the side of Stefan's face, as she cries tears of happiness, true happiness, the kind you will never know, the kind you will never taste on her skin.
And you want to step back, turn around, do anything to stop this feeling you get, but you need to stay there, be strong and brave so that no one knows.
If no one knows, no one will get hurt. Only you…
Not Elena, not Stefan. They deserve better than that.
And when you think Elena has forgotten you are there, she looks up at you again and mouths a wordless "Thank you" at you.
And just like that, it makes it worthwhile.
Everything you just risked to save her. Everything you'd endure for her.
It's okay, because even for a millisecond she knew you were there.
She knew you were there, a silent witness to her happiness, a secret enforcer of her bliss, even if it doesn't include you.
And for that millisecond you think you are in paradise, a taste of purity and deliverance like you've never known before.
You mouth "You're welcome" to her and it's only a tiny fragment of what you really wanted to say.
A deluge of words like "I love you, I'm so happy you are safe. I could never bear to lose you" are just at the back of your throat threatening to come out, but you keep them inside pursing your lips, nodding at her.
And still she closes her eyes and breathes in Stefan as he still has her in his arms, like he never wants to let go and you just close your eyes, too, only for a second to pretend that it's you holding her, it's you she is breathing in and trusting her life to.
And then you open your eyes again and the dream is gone. You are back to where you were. Where you will always stay.
Inches away, oceans apart, alone and devastated with the unbearable weight of love unacknowledged heavy on your chest.
Later on at the house, you pour yourself a drink, absent-mindedly, absent-heartedly…
You want to be silent, because if you talk right now, you will scream and cry and call out her name in vain, and if she heard you, if she heard what you really wanted to say she would cringe and recoil from you, much like she already does, but a hundred times more.
Because you even scare yourself.
Stefan is talking to you, asking you to be his brother and that he is sorry he ever turned you.
But you are not sorry.
It's been over a century and empty though you've felt, at least he was there too, to hate, love and everything in between like siblings are supposed to do.
And after all this time and seeing Katherine's true colors, you realize that he has never been untrue. He has been your constant and you owe him everything, because you have both suffered loss, but at least Stefan didn't lose himself too, the way you did.
He didn't become the monster you became.
No! Stefan became a hero. Elena's hero and you?
You are nobody's hero, but everyone's monster.
Never the hero, always the monster...
And you realize that in a way, Stefan is your hero, as well.
The one you should be like. The one you would be like, if Katherine hadn't snatched your heart and soul away when she left, taking your humanity with her, as well.
Stefan is who you look up to, even when you mock him.
Because you love him, deeply and devotedly.
And it makes it both harder and easier for you to bottle up your emotions for Elena and cause this tide of feelings subside and get tucked behind the makeshift dam you have haphazardly constructed.
Because you can no more really hurt your brother or Elena, any more than you can deny yourself of this.
But you will do it, because, for once, you need to be the hero, even if no one will ever know it.
For once, you need to be the hero.
You will know it deep inside and maybe it will be enough. Maybe it will fill the emptiness a little.
You need to see her, though. You always need to see her…
Her necklace, the one that Elijah tore from her neck, burns your skin when you touch it in the pocket of your trousers. You want to smile, but that would give you away.
It would give away how triumphant you feel, because you have a piece of Elena's right under Stefan's nose and he doesn't even know.
You have something that belongs to her. Something tiny and unimportant, perhaps, while he has her heart and soul. But at least it is something, at least it is better than nothing.
And maybe you don't feel smug, but ashamed and maybe honored, too.
But you are absolutely certain that you feel guilty and unclean and somehow it makes you feel even dirtier in this moment keeping this from Stefan, than any time in the past killing and slaughtering.
Is this how much you love her? So much that you'd rather deny yourself of this rather than hurt her?
You curl your fingers around the necklace. This tiny, little thing keeps Elena from being influenced by your mind control. Without it, she could love you.
She could learn to love you.
To long for your embrace. To tremble at your touch.
Without this necklace she would kiss you with all her heart, but not all her mind and you know that it is not enough. You are past that now.
If you can't have all of her then you don't want to settle.
You don't want just a small part of her. You don't want her fragments, her leftovers.
Rather, you want her whole heart that you can cherish and if it's not hers then you want no one else.
Without this necklace you'd have a soldier, obedient and mindless. Without this necklace, you'd have a mistress, but you wouldn't have a better half, a true lover or a soul mate.
And that is what you want. Nothing less.
You find yourself in Elena's room within mere moments. You are not sure how you got there, but somehow your feet always bring you the - as if in a trance, your autopilot is locked on her location at all times - outside her window, to feel her close, but never close enough.
Reverently, you bow down to enter her room through her open window. It's with ease that you get in.
You've done that countless times after midnight, when all is dark and silent.
You can hear her in the other room, preparing for bed.
And you know she will come in any second now, so you just hurry taking deep breaths, inhaling as much as you can of her, of the delicious scent she carries, the scent that sings to your asleep soul.
The scent that brings tears to your eyes in seconds. This familiar aroma of roses and lavender, maybe a hint of jasmine…
You lean your head back allowing the tiny tears that have already begun forming to evaporate and you take one more look around. This must be the last time you are doing this.
This is the day that you let go. You have to. Because if you don't, you will go up in flames.
You turn around and around taking in her personal space, noting every little detail that makes her space unique and loveable.
Because it is the closest you will ever be to her, when she isn't looking, when she doesn't know you are there.
And after tonight, nothing will ever be the same...
Sometimes you wish you could be invisible and follow her always, like a shadow drunk from its source, -her- the sweet wine of her essence and unwilling and unable to let go.
You touch her pillow where her head lays when she sleeps, you touch her sheets where her smell still lingers. And you look at her mirror.
You wonder what it must feel like to be able to look at yourself in it.
To not feel ashamed to see yourself, because looking at it brings back all the agony you have spread and every reason you have to feel guilty and mortified.
And then you hear her stir in the bathroom and you know she is coming back, so you take your place in front of the window, sitting down, playing with her necklace in your hands.
The one you took from the floor when no one else was looking, – like a thief, like a sinful collector of beauty and destruction- when Elena and Stefan were in each other's arms.
You touch it and you shiver, as if it were still around her neck and you were touching her.
But you are not, so instead you lift up your eyes to look at her as she comes in the room.
Blue strappy shirt and shorts.
That's what she wears to bed, but then you already knew that, because even if she doesn't know, you are always there, night after night, to peer through her window, make sure that she is alright, that she is sleeping and she is untouched by nightmares.
Unlike you. Because you are a nightmare.
She notices you and for a second she pauses, she freezes and you don't want it to be like that. You don't want a blizzard between you.
You have sworn not to touch her and you will keep your promise.
This coldness is not needed to keep you away. She is already away.
And you are away as well, as far away as you can, even if it is barely 3 feet away…
You have to say something and you say the first thing that comes to mind.
"Cute pjs" you quip and God, it's not what you really want to say.
What you want to say is that you she has never looked more beautiful than in this moment, standing non-embellished and natural in front of you. Breathtaking.
What you want to say is that she has never looked more fragile than in this moment with her dark hair loose around her shoulders, with her slender arms hanging at her sides and her lips quivering, unsure and expectant.
What you want to say is that she has never looked any more precious than how she looks now, now that you are here to say goodbye, now that you will leave her forever.
So precious and dear and loved, because your love strives to cocoon her, desperately clinging to her, never wanting to let go like a newborn animal clinging to the flesh that brought it to this world.
"I'm tired, Damon" she mouths, wordlessly asking you to leave, telling you that she has no time for your games.
She thinks so low of you...
She tries to look way, she already wants to distance herself from you, you are an intruder, unwanted and unwelcome.
Still, she feels she owes you somehow, because you helped save her and she tries to suppress the words she truly wants to say.
She exhales softly, trying not to lose her patience, not to openly offend you.
It is obvious that she thinks you need a reason to be there and she doesn't think you have it.
She is already uncomfortable.
You stand up and take a step closer, raising your hand where you hold her necklace, flashing your trademark smirk at her. Why stop this charade now?
Just another nail through your heart...
"I brought you this" you say and you let your eyes linger on her skin, the curve of her neck, the roundness of her tiny waist, engulfing her like the fire that is burning you up.
You want to speak, to say something more, tell her that it's because of her that you cared to pick it up.
It's because you want to protect her from you, from everyone like you, but you decide against it, the words tumbling down at the back of your throat anyway like a castle under siege.
Her beauty is choking you. It's stunning you.
Like a lightning bolt cursing through you, jolting all of your emotions to life, all of your feelings on overload.
"I thought that was gone" she exclaims exhaling, relief on her exquisite features, and maybe, just maybe, you have redeemed yourself with this. But you know better than that.
So, you shake your head "no" and even though, you want to tell her exactly why you are here and why you brought this back to her, love screaming in your chest like an insolent, little child which has yet to see its punishment, you remain silent and take a step forward with the necklace in your hand.
"Thank you" she mouths and you think you see a tiny flash of gratitude in her eyes and the smile that forms in her mouth.
The smile doesn't touch her eyes, though.
Only gratitude, for a second and then it is gone and you wonder – obstinately, regrettably- what it would be like if she smiled like she meant it?
What would it feel like if her sun of eyes rose and set in yours, warming you from the inside out?
What would it feel like of she wrapped her arms around you like she did with Stefan burying herself into you, molding herself to you?
Two bodies turning into one, one soul separated by the cage of flesh?
You will never know, will you?
You feel a pang of anger, denial – so beneath you, but you can't help it- and you instinctively take back your hand when she reaches out to grab the necklace -you are not over yet- and that same small smile dies on her face.
Her eyes narrow and there it is, she knows she can't trust you and it kills you.
A tiny move on your side and she instantly draws back, hiding in her shell, especially created to keep you away.
Still, she thinks she can reason with you. She think it's a joke, you mocking her…
You being you...
She thinks it's a game and if she lets you have your fun she will get the necklace in the end, but, still, she is alarmed knowing that without vervain she is vulnerable to you, to your mind suggestion in a way she would never be, sober.
Because you are the only one affected, you are the only one at her mercy.
She has bewitched you, but you mean nothing to her and why should you?
You take a deep breath and somehow you find the courage or the stupidity in you to do this.
"I just have to say something" you explain feeling silly. You try to avoid her eyes, but it's beyond your control. You just look at her again. Devouring her face.
You try to imprint every single detail about her on the canvas of your mind.
You own personal Mona Lisa.
The masterpiece you saw, but never acquired…
"Why do you have to say it with my necklace?" she demands, her words laced with discomfort and annoyance, but she takes one step back.
You can't but answer her when she is like this. Fierce and brave, your own pocket-sized amazon.
"Well…" you start and you pause, because once more you don't know if you can do this.
You are not good. You are nothing like Stefan, nothing like what she deserves.
She deserves someone noble and composed, someone that can make sense of the turmoil of emotions whirling around his heart. But you are not him.
A hurricane has wrapped around your heart and is shaking you to your core. There's no balance, no stability, no safety when you are around her.
But you have to go on, because Elena still has her questioning eyes on you, intense and piercing.
You struggle with the words and you are surprised you manage to form a sentence.
"Because what I am about to say is probably the most selfish thing I have ever said in my life" you choke out, your eyes urgently trying to focus on something other than her face, you don't want to see her disgust, her rejection…
Yet, it comes.
"Damon, don't go there" she whispers and she sucks in a breath, out of repulsion, hatred, you can't tell.
You are not sure you want to.
Does she already know what you are here to say?
Is she trying to save yourself or her the trouble, the heartache? Is she pitying you or imploring you?
It's just as well. Now that you've finally found the strength to start, you refuse to stop.
Something imminent takes hold of you and you can't shake this feeling. You will follow it to the end, you end, your demise...
"No, I just have to say it once. You just need to hear it" you cut her off, raising your hands to rest on her shoulders and maybe it's because if you say it once, just once, then maybe it will come out, release you, maybe it will stop crushing you from the inside, maybe this pressure will lessen and you won't go off like a bomb...
You look in her eyes, deep in her eyes.
You lose yourself in their dark depths, because it's the last time you'll allow yourself this and because if you lose yourself deep enough, then maybe you won't have to come up again, maybe you won't have to face reality, life, eternity without her...
"I love you, Elena" you whisper and it feels like a part of you has just run free, which part you are not sure, but it's liberated and for that, excited, even though it's going to shutter at her next words.
But she doesn't speak. Her lips part, but she doesn't utter a word.
Is it because she doesn't want to hurt you, is it because you have touched something in her, as well?
You can't allow yourself to hope. You can't be anything with her.
You are butter and you are powder scattered by the breeze of her breath.
"And it's because I love you that..." you start and it's with difficulty that you can stand up at this point.
" ..I can't be selfish with you, why you can't know this" you choke out, breathlessly, incredulously.
You feel as if you have jumped right out of your skin.
Everything is out now. She knows, you know, you said it out loud, you made it real, undeniable...
You had never grasped the true essence of tragedy, till now.
A tragedy in motion, in progress, that's what your life has been and this is the final act.
Still, she doesn't speak. Is she stunned? Appalled?
You can't tell and you are too feverish to acknowledge anything now, any infinitesimal change in her expression or posture.
"I don't deserve you..." you state the obvious and tears are brimming in your eyes, despite yourself and you shake your head a little to cause them to dry, never make their appearance.
You hope that it fooled her, looked like a smirk.
Made her think you are stronger than you really are. More resilient.
She hardly blinks, her lips are still parted and you are not sure what to think.
Maybe she is still afraid of you. Scared of what you might want.
"But my brother does" you finish, making her realize that you are not delusional.
Not insane.
You know she could never choose you, never would choose you.
And you want her to know that this feeling inside of you goes beyond lust, beyond any carnal desire that would make it look cheap.
No, what you feel is holy, sacred, the most sacred thing you have ever harbored inside and it carries affection and respect and fondness and that is why you can only press your lips against her forehead, let them linger on her skin, breathing in, remembering, savoring...
And she doesn't flinch at your touch, maybe that is her final gift to you, one moment of intimacy, spent as if you two were friends or lovers even.
"God I wish you didn't have to forget this" you say softly, and as she keeps looking into your eyes, you take a chance, one last chance and you place your hand on her face, cupping her cheek, lightly tracing your fingers along its side.
You wish it could be like that. You wish she would open her mouth to say that she feels the same away, that she doesn't think you repulsive or despicable, that there's hope for you.
In your dreams she kisses you. In your dreams she buries her face in your chest and wraps her hands around you, staying like that for hours.
In your dreams, you are not a monster, she doesn't fear you, or loathe you.
In your dreams you are brave and strong and dignified.
In your dreams you have nothing to feel ashamed of, nothing to feel guilty for.
In your dreams you love each other, you would follow each other to the end of the world, for just one more kiss, one more embrace...
But with your eyes open, you recognize reality, you remember and what you see in her eyes is not love for you, but for Stefan.
And you can't take that away from her. From him.
You will hate yourself for this if you do it. You will hate yourself the same if you don't do it.
But something stirs inside of you.
And you think that this is finally the day, the moment.
Maybe this is IT, right now, while you are humbled and desolate in front of her.
"But you do" you mouth and your pupils dilate as you make her forget, as you erase any trace of this from her mind, her heart, but not from yours.
Never from yours.
You will never forget, you will let this devastation sink in and along with it, your one true love and you will bury it deep inside, and never allow it to come to the surface again.
Only a tear comes to the surface, a tear in front of her, but it's okay because she will not remember this, either and she will never know how much it hurts you to let go of this fantasy, this dream.
You place her necklace back on, fiddling with the chain, your fingertips burning by the feel of her skin and then you go away.
You disappear in the night like a ghost, as if you were never really there.
Because in her eyes, you never were.
So you remain what you were.
A monster. Always the monster and never the hero.
No, never her hero.
Never the hero..
Fin