An idea I've had kicking around for a while. May as well write it and see how it goes! Set after the end of season 2, after everything's 'over'. Mainly D/E, but there may be twinges of other ships coming in. Please let me know what you think! It might well help when writing future chapters. ;)

Elena found it hard to look in the mirror without feeling something these days. She missed the times when her reflection was just a reflection - just an image of herself she could use for doing her minimal make-up, for doing her hair and making sure she looked reasonable in the mornings. But her reflection wasn't just a picture any more. Especially not there - not in her old bedroom. Every time she looked into her own, muddy brown eyes, she just saw the sadness that still lingered after the events of all those months ago. Every time she saw her face, she remembered the woman that had cheapened her as a unique identity. Every time she looked at herself, she found some fault, some reminder. Elena wasn't afraid to admit it was too painful to remember. She preferred not to remember. If she had her way, she would forget. She would go back to the blissful peace of ignorance. But she couldn't forget. She would never be able to make herself forget.

In an attempt to distract herself from the events themselves, Elena focused on the new lives of her friends. They'd all left high school little over four months ago. Elena couldn't say she'd been surprised they'd left so quickly. This town held too much blood - too many new friends lost all too quickly, and too many battle sites that were hard to ignore. Elena only came back to her home town for two people. Jenna and Jeremy. Jenna still remained blissfully unaware of events, and Elena liked it that way. Jeremy agreed, thankfully. There was enough pain without Jenna being involved too. Jeremy was still in school, and Elena liked to see him. The supernatural had driven them apart, but they were fixing things up. Elena wanted to keep him close. So she made a point of coming home from Duke every fortnight or so. She didn't want to abandon town like everyone else had.

Caroline, sweet Caroline, had jumped ship as soon as she could. She had let the community think whatever they liked, but Caroline was living it up in L.A. She kept in touch, but Elena knew she was happier away from Virginia, away from it all. The one small comfort Elena kept was that Tyler had gone with her. Through it all, they had bonded the most, connected on some level no one else understood. Elena didn't even begin to try and consider why. But she was happy for them. Bonnie was less forgiving, less social. She had wanted out of the supernatural world altogether, away from vampires and werewolves and everything connected to their world. Elena knew she was at university, but Bonnie never said where. No one knew. Elena barely heard from her old best friend at all. Elena knew it was due to her old connection with the vampires. It was over now. Stefan was gone.

Elena thought of him as she brushed out her hair in front of her mirror. She gazed at the photograph taped to the edge of her mirror, the one of her and Stefan, back when they'd first met. Stefan. The second it had all ended, the second it was all over, he'd asked her once again, if she thought she could ever go back to him. Elena had been honest with herself. And she'd said no. After everything she'd been through, she had to admit that she didn't feel safe with him anymore. She felt pain and disaster and the loss of everything that might have been. Apart from the fact, he'd almost been too quick. She'd barely had time to come to terms with everything that had happened before he made her think about her future. Elena had to say no. She'd gone home and cried herself dry. But she said no all the same. Elena didn't know where Stefan was. He checked in every once in a while. But he was always distant. It was better that way. This was what Elena told herself, every time she felt the loss. It was better that way.

As for the other Salvatore? He was unreadable. Sometimes, when she was back in Mystic Falls, he would act like nothing had happened. Like it was the good old days when it was simple, straight forward. When he'd taunted her and she'd pushed him to his limits because they both needed it. Other weekends, Elena would know he was in town, but they avoided each other completely. Sometimes, Damon Salvatore just wasn't in Mystic Falls. Elena could always tell between the two situations. There was always some kind of indication. She was just good at reading the signs. Almost too good. Elena deemed it to be part of his volatile mood swings and the alcohol abuse she knew he had to be undergoing. With Stefan gone, Elena often wondered why big bad city boy even stayed in Mystic Falls. She wondered if he was just finding it hard to let go of what had happened. She couldn't blame him if he did. But who was she to say anything? She talked to Damon Salvatore for over three months now. He could have been dead, for all she knew.

Elena turned away from the mirror, and stared at the dress on her bed. She sighed. The annual Masquerade Ball was tonight, a tradition continued loyally by Carol Lockwood. Jenna was going. Jeremy was going. Elena was meant to be going. But the whole ball brought back too many memories of the last Masquerade. Katherine, Damon, Stefan... the torture of that night. It was too much. "Elena, are you ready yet?" Jeremy called through her door, with a little impatience. He wanted to leave. It was understandable. He had a new girl - Kate. She was sweet, pretty, and was everything Jeremy needed after his past romances. She was loyal; safe. Jenna was going out of duty, but she'd managed to rope Alaric into going with her. The old History teacher was still going strong. Elena had wondered why he stuck around until about a month after everything ended. Then she realised it was for her aunt. They really were something special.

"No, I'm staying here." Elena replied to her brother on impulse. "I'm not feeling well." She lied quickly. There was a silence from the other side of her door. Then Jeremy seemed to accept it was too much for Elena to go back to this ball. Too much for her to remember. Jeremy hoped she'd learn to handle it, someday. But for now, space was all she needed. This was his theory. This was what allowed him to do nothing more than sigh outside his sister's door, rather than walking in and forcing her into her dress himself. "Okay," Jeremy replied quietly. "Be careful." He said it more out of habit than anything, before heading downstairs.

Elena collapsed onto her bed, listening as Jeremy headed downstairs. She heard the murmurs of Jenna and Alaric, before they all headed outside, closing the door behind them and locking it tight, to keep her safe. There was a spare key in the kitchen. Elena just knew they were being cautious. Who wouldn't be, after all that had happened? Elena looked sideways at the sapphire blue dress on her bed, the one she had planned to wear. It reminded her of the one she'd worn for the Miss Mystic Falls contest. It wasn't the same - it was shorter, sleeker, off one shoulder and it would look good on her. But the colour was almost the same shade of stunning, blinding, sapphire blue. She hadn't shown Jenna or Jeremy it yet. She had wanted it to be a surprise. But even the dress was a reminder. It reminded her of that dance...with Damon. And of course, the pain of locking away Stefan that same day, due to the crazed bloodlust he'd been suffering.

No sooner had she remembered the event when her phone beeped noisily, announcing a text. She reached over to her bedside table, where she had left it earlier. She expected it to be from Jenna - a simple 'get well soon' was all she wanted. So it was hard not to be the surprised at the name next to the text, much less at what it said. The window sat there in all its digital glory, his name at the header of the little white box.

Damon

Why aren't you going to the party?

That was all. Elena wondered how he even knew; she supposed he must be in town. More to the fact, why did he care? They hadn't communicated at all for over three months now. He'd been out of the area a lot recently. Or ignoring her. She'd seen him briefly last month, downing shots at the Grill. Only for a few moments, before he realised her presence and vanished. Why had he been running? What was he afraid of? Her? Elena barely even thought about her reply before typing it and hitting send.

Me

Home sick.

She played with her phone idly, considering the reply. Why was she lying to everyone to these days? It was driving her crazy. She didn't tell the truth about her past to her friends at Duke - how could she? They would never understand her stories of vampires and werewolves, or even believe them. She was lying to Jenna for the same reason. She lied to Jeremy because no matter how much they patched up their relationship, it was still broken. She wasn't telling her old friends much because they were so far away, and that was as good as lying. She felt locked up, hidden away. She'd been lying for months - it would be nice to tell the truth for once. But she didn't. She never did.

It took only a minute or so before her text was answered. But not in the traditional method.

"You're a pathetic liar, Elena."

Elena sprang upright in shock, staring at the man behind the voice. She'd forgotten how they used to appear like that. Had it really been so long? His voice ran like velvet and liquor. Soft, sweet, and far more tempting than Elena cared to consider. She ignored her heart as she always did when Damon arrived and instead examined him. Although she had shirked the Masquerade, he was obviously going. He was all decked out in a black suit and everything. Damon didn't wear a suit unless he had to. Elena drank him in for a second. Had it really been so long? Had she really forgotten the way his hair was always so carelessly messy, the way his blue eyes pierced through anything in his way? But she couldn't contemplate for too long. Not with Damon.

"I am not," Elena protested, trying hard not to seem petulant. Damon smirked casually, leaning back against her window seat.

"Well, although you are home, you don't seem very sick. And I picked that up through this," Damon lectured her, waving his phone in one hand to illustrate his point. "So I'd say that's pretty pathetic." Elena sighed heavily, collapsing back onto her bed. Damon was sitting beside her head in an instant, peering down at her curiously. She'd forgotten how he used to do that, too. "So come on, spit. Why are you avoiding the party? Or is it my dashing good looks you're trying to avoid?" Damon baited her. Elena glared up at him for an instantly, silently rebuking his remark. Damon seemed nonplussed.

"I don't want to go, okay?" Elena insisted. She didn't want to explain herself to him. He was acting like the last year had never happened, like he'd never even left her, and she hated it. But at the same time, she needed someone to talk to, or she was going to explode. If it had to be Damon, well, maybe that was just the way it had to be. Besides, it wasn't like he would mock her or tell anyone. Not over her reasoning. And who would he tell?

"Why not?" Damon pushed.

"Because it hurts too much, okay? It reminds me of...well, everything." Elena burst out. Damon looked down at her for a moment, considering her. Elena had to stop herself from quailing under his curious, analytical gaze. He got up from her bed and moved to the bedroom door.

"Get changed," Damon commanded her as he walked away. Feeling stubborn and refusing to take instructions from him while he had his back to her, Elena protested.

"No. I don't want to go."

"Elena," Damon began, in one of his rare moments of clarity, when there was no cocky smirk or heartless facade. "After 145 years, you'll learn the only way to get over things is to get on with them. So get changed." He didn't give her a chance to reply - he was out her bedroom door before she could. Elena bit her lip slightly, running her fingers through her hair. Had he not spoken with such an honest tone in such plain terms, Elena might have defied him. But he was right. Goddammit, he was right. And with their relationship running such a fine line as it was, what choice did she have? It was either defy him, or lose him. Again.

Elena couldn't take loss. Not anymore.