Serendipity

A/N: Happy New Years everyone! 'Serendipity' is finally complete :) It's set around the same time as 'Infinite' except it revolves around Damon and Elena. Just note that this is all set before 'Requiem' and it's recommended that you read both one-shots before reading 'Requiem' (though you don't need to read Requiem at all, though it'd be more than preferable :D) as it'll give you a lot of foundation for the relationships between the characters in the fic. Also, this is slightly AU, so if some things aren't the way they happened in the series, it's intentional ;) Hope you enjoy, and please review! It means so much :)

Sad is the thought of sunniest days

Of love and rapture perished,

And shine through memory's tearful haze

The eyes once fondliest cherished.

Reproachful is the ghost of toys

That charmed while life was wasted.

But saddest is the thought of joys

That never yet were tasted.

Sad is the vague and tender dream

Of dead love's lingering kisses,

To crushed hearts haloed by the gleam

Of unreturning blisses;

Deep mourns the soul in anguished pride

For the pitiless death that won them,

But the saddest wail is for lips that died

With the virgin dew upon them.

Remorse, John Hay 2003

The fireplace was going strong in the boarding house on New Years Eve as Elena quickly shut the door behind her, reveling in the heat compared to the cold snaking in from outside. Shivering slightly, she quickly unraveled her silken scarf; one Damon had generously given her on Christmas day. Scraping off the now melting snow from the bottom of her boots, she made her way to the kitchen, still numb from the cold, despite the fact that she had left her jacket on. Yearning for something warm to thaw out her chilled bones, the newly purchased coffee machine called out to her; but before she could even make a move to serve her own hot beverage, strong arms held her against a wall of muscle, tightly and securely.

"I have a surprise for you," Damon whispered in her ear, making the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. Being around him always made her heart skip a beat, but she had to admit that she still wasn't quite sure of herself. After spending such a long time in a serious relationship with Stefan, Damon's younger brother, something still didn't feel right between them.

About to ask what his 'surprise' for her could possibly be, she turned around, only to be nearly knocked off her feet as Damon's lips met hers in a furiously passionate clash of emotion. Before she knew what she was doing, she pushed him away. Turning her back to Damon, she covered her mouth, shocked. She knew that she was no longer with Stefan, and that Damon was her true love now, but regardless, something felt so wrong.

Damon, obviously sensing the growing tension in the now empty space between them, frowned, eyebrows knitting together in an inadvertent impression of his younger brother.

"What, is it such a surprise that I would try to kiss you?"

"That…wasn't a surprise." Elena mumbled, mouth still covered by her trembling hands.

Damon's eyes narrowed, perplexed. Taking a breath, preparing a retort, Damon was cut off short.

"Damon…I'm surprised you thought I'd kiss you back. I love you, but I'm still getting used to our relationship. I need some time."

The older Salvatore laughed humorlessly, "So you're surprised that I thought that you'd kiss me back…I can't believe that I'd thought you'd want to."

"Damon…"

"Yet, what we've been doing for the past three months – it means something…and I'm going to prove it to you." Once more his lips crashed against hers, this time filled with the desperation of a man who lost his heart long ago, and yearned for someone to help bring it back to him.

Struggling against his steady grip, Elena broke the kiss, and turned to face him, anger flashing in her chocolate brown eyes. "Look, Damon. I love you, but you're better than this, and I need you to understand that I'm not ready to leave my past with Stefan behind just yet."

Rolling his eyes in such a way that Elena would have found comical in any other situation, Damon took a step back, palms facing towards her in a mock act of resignation. "I know I don't deserve your forgiveness. Especially after all the things I've done, and I'm sorry, Elena, if that's what you've been waiting to hear all this time." Dropping his hands back down to his side, he tested the ground, taking miniscule steps forward, as if approaching an anxious animal. "You say I'm better, Elena, but I've done so many things to hurt you, and I still don't understand why you've chosen me, because I'm bad for you."

Damon could hear her mortal heart violently pumping blood through her veins, beating against her ribcage. She was scared, and she had every right to be. Damon's history as a vampire wasn't a clean slate, though he'd give everything in the world to be free of his past. Of course, Stefan had his stories to tell, but he never told them for fear it would push everyone he cared about, chiefly his love interest, away; and he was smart to have done so. "But then I realised…I'm not sorry." His eyes, cold as ice, bored into hers as if he could see the inner turmoil coursing through her.

"Well, I'm not sorry either." Crossing her arms, Elena rooted herself to her spot on the immaculately clean kitchen tiles.

"You say you're not sorry, but if you weren't, you wouldn't still be so smitten with Stefan." Turning on his heel, he stalked out of the kitchen, making his way into the main living room. Snatching an empty glass off of the vintage side table, Damon poured himself a serving of Bourbon. Downing it quickly, the liquor burned his throat, numbing his mind, and he hoped that tonight he wouldn't have to feel.

"You didn't let me finish." Pursed lips, Elena stood at the opposite end of the room, a mere silhouette against the brightly lit hallway. "I'm not sorry. I'm not sorry that I fell in love with you, and am still in love with you… but this is what you do, Damon. You think that you don't deserve something so you ruin it, and I'm not going to let you pull that this time." She now stood before Damon, head tilted up slightly to meet his eyes.

Turning his head, Damon broke their short-lasting eye contact. Waving his hand dismissively, he tried to convey how much he wanted her to just leave him alone for the time being. He knew he was behaving irrationally, but it was always Stefan. It was Stefan that had ensnared Elena in a figurative death grip, always having tendrils of control over her heart. It was Stefan that always left his ghost everywhere they went, always reminding Elena that they had had something.

It was at this point that Damon realised how much he had been drinking. A bottle of Bourbon had been emptied, and a quarter of his finest rum was gone. At least he had achieved what he'd wanted; he could hardly decipher one thought from another, and his vision swam under the influence of alcohol. It wouldn't last long though. Being a vampire, large amounts of liquor never had a strong effect on him, and many times, Damon wished it did.

Knees hitting the back of the red velvet couch, he let himself collapse onto it, slowly sinking into the soft cushion. Feeling the other side of the sofa dipping, he knew that Elena had followed him, and, being her, would persistently keep watch over him until the events of the evening blew over.

Resting her head on his shoulder, Elena sighed. As of late, they'd been having troubles in their relationship, but for once, Damon had the right to be upset with her. He was right. She was still thinking about Stefan, but not in the same way she used to. She still loved him, but no longer in a way that meant they were romantically involved. She cared for him like family, but she cared for Damon like he was her world.

"Damon."

The first step to resolving their problems was for them both to listen to each other, and Elena was adamant to make that first step happen. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with what precious air she could capture, and exhaled it back out, preparing herself for whatever outcome she would face.

"I realised something tonight…about you. About us."

Damon was now completely turned to face her, forcing himself against his own unreasonableness to listen to her.

"Last time I was here…I was so completely in love with Stefan, but now I can't imagine being with anyone other than you." Elena cupped Damon's face in her hands, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "I love you, Damon, and I don't care how many times you need to hear it to believe it."

"I was supposed to do the right thing by you…and the right thing by my brother-"

"Shh…" Elena placed a finger on Damon's lips, quieting him before he could cause himself any more pain. "It's okay. You aren't supposed to do anything."

"I don't do the right thing, Elena… But I have to do the right thing by you." Damon closed his eyes, shame and guilt flooding his mind, and he couldn't think about anything but how wrong he was for her. Damon voiced his thoughts, barely a whisper, "I'm so wrong for you Elena…"

Closing the short distance between them, Elena placed her lips on Damon's, and let them mold into each other. The curve of her body melted into his, like they were made for one another, and she felt her heart pound against her chest, as wild as her thoughts.

Breaking their kiss, Elena sighed, breath tickling Damon's ear. "Did that feel wrong?"

"Not exactly...which is why we need to talk."

Elena, surprised for the second time that evening, sat up, nervously biting her bottom lip. 'Well?" She wasn't sure whether she was angry, or scared. She knew that her past with his brother upset him, and that he, too, was afraid. He was afraid that she would leave him again for Stefan, and his concerns were justified. Too many times Elena had broken up with Stefan, only to get back together with him and break Damon's heart once more.

"I need you to promise me something, Elena." The oldest Salvatore brother sighed, knowing that what he was about to ask Elena would reveal the truth about their relationship. "I need you to promise me that when the time comes, you need to trust me. You can hate me, but I need you to trust me...and I need you to trust me now."

"But I do trust you, Damon. It's just…" Elena was cut off short, and Damon was finding it harder and harder to keep his temper in check.

"Just what, Elena? If you trusted me, you'd believe me when I say that you need to let go of my brother. Because right now, I can't even trust you when you say that you're in love with me. I want to believe you. I really do. In fact I'd been waiting over a year to hear those three words come from you."

"Then what's the problem?" Elena threw her hands up in the air, feelings completely stretched and drained of energy. It wasn't the first time that they had conversations like this, and this time, Elena had had enough. "Stefan is gone, Damon. He may not have left Mystic Falls but he's gone from my heart." Placing her palm flat against Damon's chest, where his undead heart still beat, Elena looked him in the eyes. "And he should be gone from yours too; maybe then you'd stop worrying so much."

"Maybe...and maybe if we had met first it would've been me that you fell in love with, and not my mess of a brother." He smiled sadly, wishing that Elena knew it was them who met first. Of course, until she became a vampire she wouldn't have the faintest clue. Standing up and wandering to stand in front of the fireplace, he stared into the flames, losing himself in one of nature's phenomenons. Feeling small arms wrap around his middle, he was slightly shocked that he didn't hear her approaching.

"I love you, Damon." Elena tried once more, hoping that wouldn't trigger another conversation about their unsteady relationship, but, in a brief moment of serendipity, Damon knew that she meant every word.

That was the first and last time that Damon truly believed her. Here he sat, the same spot on the same couch, glass of Bourbon in hand, thinking of all the 'whats' and 'ifs' of long ago. Tonight was the night that Elena left the world exactly one year ago. Finally, she was blissfully free of a world that wanted so badly to hurt her, but the hurt she'd left behind in Damon far surpassed any pain she may have felt in her brief time on earth. Elena never had an easy life, losing nearly all of her family and friends to death's fatal grip; but she never wanted to die. Damon never wanted her to die.

Trembling hands set the now empty glass of Bourbon down on the side table, a white knuckled grip nearly causing it to break. Feeling his breathing speed up erratically, he knew he was a downright mess. He was nothing without Elena, his constant anchor to the world of the living, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could take a world without her.

Closing his eyes, he was assaulted with the choking sensation of water fighting its way into his lungs, Elena's skin turning ever paler with each passing moment that he couldn't save her life. He remembered the car sinking ever so slowly into the slimy depths of the river, splinters of wood from Wickery Bridge raining down slowly around them. He remembered the windshield caving in moments too late, and his death grip on her limp hand, dragging her lifeless body slowly upwards, only to realise that he would never look into her eyes again.

Waking up as if from a dream, he gasped as if he was struggling for air, and he let his head fall heavily into his hands. Ever since the car crash he'd been going in and out of a daze, depressed and delusional, not sure what to do with himself, instead opting for drinking himself unconscious and living a mostly sedentary lifestyle. He only stepped outside to feed on the innocent citizens of Mystic Falls who deserved none of the pain they'd felt in those few hasty moments he'd spent in an attempt to fill the hole left behind in his heart.

He heard the front door creak open ever so slowly, but his body was completely unresponsive. He didn't have any energy to tell Stefan to go away and to leave him alone. To tell him what day it was and what it meant to him, because of course Stefan had moved far past Elena, and he didn't hurt anymore. Standing up on a whim, Damon brushed past his younger brother, with no other acknowledgment aside from their brief moment of contact, and the older Salvatore exhaled, breath fogging up in the crisp night air. Tonight was the anniversary of Elena's death, and unlike their last night together, the air was completely still.

Damon's feet took him past the Mystic Grill, busy with light and movement, just like most of the town at this late hour. Even the small moths stirred, flying around the flickering street lamps, desperate to find their light at the end of the tunnel. It was nearly midnight, nearly New Years day, and Damon's heart felt heavy with remorse. He couldn't help but believe that he was the reason she was no longer here with him. No matter, it was always his fault.

A crow swooping low over his head brought him back from his reverie. He felt a lump in his throat as he realised where his feet had led him, and his knees sunk into the snow. Ignoring the cold, he sat there, blankly staring at the headstone before him.

In loving memory

Elena Gilbert: Friend, Sister, Lover.

June 22, 1992 - December 31, 2011

Remaining there a few moments more, Damon remembered, in their last moments together, that he never quite told her how he felt about her, and it saddened him that she hadn't heard it all those times he thought it.

"I love you too, Elena."