This is my first fanfic for The Vampire Diaries. Delena is my favorite ship, so I'm excited. Enjoy, and go easy on me. :)
Elena's Point of View
The sound of the front door closing was the only thing that gave me away.
"Elena?" Alaric's voice drifted from the kitchen, and a few seconds later he came around the corner, looking me over with slight concern. Most people wouldn't be able to see it, but I could, even on his generally unreadable features.
He knew what Damon and I had gone to do, belatedly of course. Damon had called him on the drive home, telling him he was coming to drop me off. Judging by his expression, the fact that I had been crying was evident on my face, but I waved him off.
"I'm fine," I said, suddenly aware of how sad my voice was. I made an effort to sound more okay. "Really, I just want to go to sleep." He hesitated, but eventually nodded. "If you need anything, just let me know," He said, giving me a serious look before I nodded, and made my way upstairs. Jeremy's door was closed, and I passed it to go to my own, thankful that I didn't have to give him an explanation.
My bedroom looked lonely as I stepped in. Empty. The whole drive home with Damon and I silent in his car, the only thing I had wanted to do was come home and go to sleep. But now, faced with the task of crawling into my cold bed alone, right after the love of my life told me that he never wanted to see me again… it seemed like the saddest thing of all. I sighed, my breath hitching as I dropped my purse onto the hardwood floor beside my bed. It didn't take long, as I pulled back the blankets on my bed, before I dissolved into tears. Sobs wracked my body, the heartbreak that was practically tearing me apart making its way out through my crying. My mind couldn't wrap around the fact that this was happening. It was like a nightmare, all of my worst fears together in the most terrifying and ridiculously spot-on representation of everything I was scared of, of everything that could hurt me the most. I finally slid under my covers, and they were cold and vacant. I eventually calmed down my crying until tears were occasionally, silently running down my face. But it was a vast improvement compared to before. Wiping my eyes, I sat up and reached onto my bedside table for my cell phone. It had been over an hour since I'd gotten home, but it was still only eleven. I quickly realized that a huge part of the reaction I was having was loneliness. I felt stupid for it, but honestly, I was just devastated and I didn't want to be alone. Bonnie was either asleep or having a late-night phone call with my brother and I didn't want to ruin her happiness. She had just found it and I wasn't going to be the one to bring her down.
No, there was only one person I could even fathom spending time with right now. And he probably needed me just as much. Resolute and deciding to go on with this plan before I could second guess myself or talk myself out of it, I stood up trying to remind myself that I no longer had to care about what Stefan would think about me spending so much time with his brother. Trying to push his name out of my head, I changed into long, soft pajama pants and a matching dark purple tank top. I slid my leather jacket on over it and grabbed my cell phone and purse, stopping by my dresser and bathroom and shoving a pair of clothes for tomorrow and a toothbrush into my bag.
Silently, I made my way out of my room, down the stairs, and out of the front door. I closed my eyes as I started my car, took a deep breath, and began the drive to Stefan's… Damon's house.
It was pitch black outside, and I pulled up the long, winding driveway to see that the glow of the living room lights were still on, visible through the windows. I paused at the door as I walked up, not sure whether to knock or barge in. Eventually, I just opened the door quietly, hesitantly stepping over the threshold. It was hard stepping into the place I had spent so many nights with Stefan, but I was quickly distracted by the sound of something breaking. I practically ran into the living room, to see a broken scotch glass aimed at the fireplace. My eyes landed on Damon, who was breathing heavily, clearly having thrown the glass with angry force.
"Damon?" I asked softly, my guard up. I didn't want to startle him and have him attack me or anything. I knew he wouldn't do that under normal circumstances, but he was clearly halfway to wasted. Honestly, I couldn't blame him.
He quickly turned to face me, looking surprised to see me there. The pain and anger from tonight's events and probably a lot more were written all over his face. The alcohol turned Damon into an open book, as always.
"What are you doing here?" He asked, his brows knitting together in inquisition, the familiar fire in his eyes. In a blur, he was in front of me, leaving only a foot between us. I glanced up at him, searching for an answer. Why was I here? It was a good question.
"I…" Trying to produce an eloquent statement was out of the window. Finally, I said, "I just didn't want to be alone…. And I didn't want you to be either." He stared at me for a few more moments before averting his gaze slightly, then looking back. "You should go home, Elena. Get some sleep." It wasn't a suggestion, and his tone made that clear. It was a demand.
But then again, I had never been good at doing what I was told.
"Damon, please," I practically pleaded. "I couldn't sleep there. I told you." My eyes threatened to fill with tears again, the emotion in this conversation providing a bridge to the depression I'd felt all night. I fought away the memory of Stefan's words in Chicago. I couldn't let myself think about that right now, or I'd surely break down. I couldn't do that in front of Damon.
"Come on, can we just go to sleep?" I asked, my eyes pleading with him as I slid the bottle of scotch from his hand, setting it down on the table beside us.
"You actually want to sleep here? With me?" He asked, seeming incredulous and guarded, like he didn't believe me at all. Like there would be a condition. I felt terrible, because I realized that this was the first time I had sought out his company without wanting something from him.
"Yes," I said, trying to think of some way to make him believe me. "You're the only person who understands," I confessed, knowing I would probably regret it later. He would hold it against me at some point, but that didn't detract from the fact that it was true. "I want to be here with you because I just had what might possibly be the worst day of my entire life, and I know you did too, and I don't want to cry in my bed alone all night," I said, the words flooding out with more emotion than I could control. I had a lot of feelings, but control wasn't one of them. Not tonight.
Then I saw something I had only seen once or twice, something that practically broke my heart, but at the same time, gave me hope. Damon let his guard down. In his eyes, the anger evaporated almost completely and it was replaced with sadness. Regret.
"I don't know how you can even look at me," He said, venom dripping from his words, but it seemed to be directed at himself. "This is all my fault."
"No," I said forcefully, stepping closer and trying so hard to get him to listen. "It's my fault. But… it's not really anyone's fault. Not even his. We can stand here and play the blame game all day. We can torture ourselves. But it won't change a thing. And it won't change the fact that we couldn't have done anything to stop it, no matter what we try to convince ourselves." I stared hard at him, silently begging him to believe me. There was a small shift in him, unnoticeable to anyone who didn't know him well. But I saw it. And I heard what he was thinking, loud and clear. He knew it wasn't anyone's fault specifically. But this whole situation sucked, and it was tearing us apart.
We stared at each other for a few long moments, and eventually, silently, he turned and began making his way upstairs. As he walked, it became evident just how much he had been drinking. I didn't know how he had managed such a coherent conversation. Then again, he had been open and honest, so he had to be pretty drunk in the first place. He stopped by one of the guest rooms expectantly, looking resigned, expecting me to go in. I passed him and walked straight into his room, dropping my bag in a chair by the bed and bending over his bed to pull the covers down. He had a black silk comforter, just as I always expected, which caused me to smirk slightly, even though I was near tears. He stood in the doorway, looking beyond shocked, but eventually stumbled in and flopped down on the bed, fully clothed. I gave him a look.
"Come on, Damon, you can't possibly go to sleep like that." He had jeans, boots, and a button-up shirt on. He closed his eyes. "I don't plan on sleeping well anyway." He tried to be witty to cover it up, but I saw through him, just like always. I wanted him to get some rest. He looked like a trainwreck, and quite honestly, I was worried about him.
I went around to his side of the king bed and instead of doing what I normally would have done – complained until he did what he needed to do – I did what the new Elena did. I took matters into my own hands, without worrying what the hell Damon would think.
I started undoing the buttons on his shirt. That got his attention. His eyes snapped open, down to where my hands were finishing the last button on his shirt. He groaned. With minimal cooperation on his part, I finally got it off of him. Leaving his jeans alone, I took off his shoes and socks, tossing them onto the floor with thuds. Ignoring his sigh, I turned the light off. It was so strange going to sleep in this house anywhere but in Stefan's room. It was so strange being without him, period. I felt confused and empty. Like I didn't know what to do with myself. I knew it would take a while to not feel like half of an equation, broken and trying to act on its own. It was a process. But now, the heartbreak was fresh and hard to control. That, I reminded myself, was why I had come here in the first place. I walked across the room back to Damon's extremely huge bed, crawling into it, surprised by its comfort.
I may have lost my boyfriend, but Damon had lost his brother. No matter what kind of terms they were on, it was still true. Surprising us both, I slid close to Damon as I pulled the covers over us. He was drunk and I was close to tears, and we were both as lonely as hell. But I laid my head on his chest and slid my arm over him, realizing that this was exactly what I needed. I knew I needed Damon specifically. The reasons for that, I didn't know. My mind was a jumble, just as much of a trainwreck as the man beside me. How I felt about him…. That was something to think about in the morning. One thing at a time, Elena. I told myself, and I took a deep, slightly shaky breath.
It only took a few minutes before I felt his arms hesitantly wrap around me in return. Pretty soon, it hit me, as I was beginning to fall asleep. We may be alone, but we could be alone together.
Reviews are love. ;) Please tell me what you thought of it!