In case any of you reading this read Blood's Thicker Than Water, I am not planning to give up on it. But I'm having a bit of writer's block at the minute, so I decided to write this instead.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Vampire Diaries or any of the characters

xXx

Weak

By no means necessary does Elena like to think of herself as weak. Though Caroline could be strong-willed, she liked acting helpless in order to get boys' attention. She would bat her deep sea blue eyes and ask if they could give her a hand with carrying these boxes ("They're just so heavy").

(This was of course before she became a vampire. Now her mind is too preoccupied with full moons and evil doppelgangers and keeping secrets that she doesn't give any thought to appearing helpless. Or maybe that has to do with a certain werewolf that she seems to be spending more time with...)

Elena though – she hates it. When they were little Caroline would always be the one sitting on the rug next to Bonnie while Elena would be the one kicking a football with Matt and Tyler, slipping in the mud and not even caring. She would much rather be "one of the boys" than a lady.

But that wasn't how the boys saw her – or rather, how her boyfriends saw her.

Matt was definitely the worst. Sure, he had been her first love – and what a perfect first love he was! He was the sort of boy that every mother wanted their daughter to date: the cookie-cutter American boy with maple syrup hair and light blue eyes, considerate, polite, athletic – a true White Knight, sword at hand to save any damsel in distress.

But as time moved on Elena realised that she had limited options with Matt. He wanted a simple life, a decent job and a wife with 2.2 kids; to come home with dinner ready on the table and loving wife ready to hear about his day. He wanted to live in Mystic Falls for the rest of his life. Elena didn't know what she wanted, but she knew she wanted options: swim with dolphins, go on safari, climb Mount Kilimanjaro, visit New York. Though she loved Mystic Falls, she couldn't say for certain that she wanted to live there forever. And no matter what, she definitely didn't want to be a housewife.

Fate took the decision out of her hands when her parents died. A stone was thrown, breaking the rose-tinted glass that had shielded her from the harsh reality. There were no fairytales; there were no white knights. She had to save herself. That deep realisation made her see that she couldn't be with Matt – could not be what he wanted her to be. It wasn't her.

xXx

Stefan Salvatore almost made her believe that fairytales could exist. Like a changing wind he blew her in a different direction, a ship that was heading towards the rocks before he came along. He was charming, with an easy smile – instantly The Boy to date. Perhaps it wasn't surprising that they began to date – him the budding star of the football team, her the returning Mystic Falls princess. Elena felt surprised, though really she shouldn't have been; wasn't it obvious that they would be together?

In the end Stefan did make her believe in fairytales. But they were the dark stories of pain and murder, the ones where shadows moved and eyes watched. He made her feel weaker than ever because he was a vampire and there was absolutely no way she could be stronger than that.

As their relationship grew though, she began to realise he insulted her in other ways too. He had lied to her before, but that she could understand; it was the way he continued to protect her, constantly telling her half-truths and withholding information. She supposed it was hard for him to be honest after all these years of having to lie, but it still made her skin crawl. What did that mean for her – for them? What did it mean for their relationship? Now she needs to know more than ever, now that Stefan is Klaus' right hand man.

Now that they are unofficially broken up.

xXx

She stares into the dancing flames of the fire, and she can almost see the path of destruction that Stefan has left behind: babies crying in their cots while their mother's are having the life drained out of them; houses set ablaze to hide evidence. She is almost lost in the darkness, never to see life again when she feels weight on the other side of the sofa. She turns and he is there – Damon Salvatore.

He feels her looking at him and glances at her, except it isn't a glance at all. It is meant to be, but it turns into a gaze filled with heartbreak and longing, but also understanding. It is not for each other though, but for their third musketeer Stefan – the one who is now gone.

Nearly a year ago she arrived at the house for Stefan – and she still comes to the house for him. But as always she doesn't find him, only Damon. Stefan was the one that brought them together, and even now he holds them, united in their cause, their mission to save their beloved. Yes, even Damon will admit he cares for his brother, enough to try and rescue him. Elena doesn't question it. If this tragedy is what brings them together again, then at least it means something good came out of it.

"Where were you?" he asks quietly.

She shakes her head. After all, he already knows her fears, knows the same information that she does. He knows where her mind is. He wonders why he even bothered asking.

For a while the only sound is the fire crackling. It is comforting in a way, keeping them warm. It's what they do now. The girl that once had the busiest social life and the vampire that drank himself into oblivion sit in the living room every evening, watching the fire and thinking. Sometimes about the past. Other times about the future. About their lives and their lost one.

She doesn't know about Damon, but Elena feels like her life is now a dream; she goes through the motions but none of it feels real. She cannot be happy anymore, cannot smile through pain or pretend she's okay. She knows that everyone else has gotten over it, waiting for Elena to grow out of it too. But she can't. It's why she spends time with Damon; he's the only one who gets it. These days he's the only one she can bear to be around. If she thought about it, she would laugh. Hadn't she once always felt uncomfortable in his presence?

"It hurts," she says suddenly.

"I know." He doesn't touch her. After the...incident, neither of them touch. It's too dangerous; too much like fire that will turn wild with just one tiny spark.

"I don't feel like myself anymore," she continues. "I can't fight anymore." Then she says that words that she has kept secret, ones that she has only ever admitted to herself; words that make her feel ashamed. "I'm just not strong enough."

She doesn't mean to, but somehow she is looking at Damon. When his head snaps to her suddenly she flinches a little, off guard. Those blue eyes of his are like cut glass as they look at her – right at her as if he can actually see her and feel every part of her.

"Lena, you're the strongest person I know."

We only get a few moments when we can point to a time in our lives and say, "It changed me." Elena doesn't need hindsight to know that this was one of them for her. It's the moment when she finds the strength inside her – hidden but not gone – to continue, not to collapse and cry and beg to be compelled and forget this entire year altogether.

It is also the moment when she realises that Damon Salvatore sees her strength.

She isn't a lady to him.

She's a warrior.

It's the growing, not the beginning, of a crush.