Disclaimer: The Vampire Diaries is the property of the CW. No copyright infringement is intended.
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Elena sat in history class, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, chewing on the end of her pen. This was one of those times when it seemed surreal that she was sitting in class surrounded by other seniors, listening to a substitute history teacher. The student body had sincerely mourned the death of Mr. Saltzman, but young life moved on. Here she was now, earnestly trying to pretend that World War II had some type of relevance in her life.
As the substitute, whose name she couldn't be motivated to remember, droned on, she let her mind wander, as it tended to do these days. Was it only three months ago that the whole nightmare her life had evolved into was suddenly and almost quietly resolved? Many had died and or sacrificed themselves, but she, the doppelganger, the cause of it all, was finally safe.
She stole a sideways glance under her lashes at Caroline's solemn face. The sparkle, lively smile, and spontaneity that she was famous for had died with Tyler, the hour following Klaus's death at Damon's hands. She had managed to rally after her father's death, but it seemed that it would be a long time, if ever, that she recovered from the hybrid's death. If she did, it's doubtful she would have that zest for life again.
Elena shifted her gaze next to Bonnie, one desk over from Caroline. She was just plain sad, burdened by the weight of her mother's death. She had died vainly, trying to protect Jamie, while helping her daughter defeat Esther. Bonnie had really connected with her mother's protégé, and their death together had finally snapped something in her. Her abhorrence of Damon was cemented by the fact that Damon allowed them to fight Esther alone, choosing instead to whisk a fiercely protesting Elena to safety. That final betrayal had sealed Bonnie's hatred of him.
Elena jumped when the bell finally rang, so deep in thought she missed most of what the teacher had said. She was vaguely disturbed that she had no idea what her homework was, but didn't stop to ask any of the other students.
Bonnie and Caroline had bolted out of the classroom, not bothering to stop at their lockers, before dashing outside. She hurried to catch up, even calling out, "Wait!"
She tried to ignore the fact that there was no way Caroline, with her vampire hearing, could have missed her plea. This happened frequently these days and Elena attempted, but failed not to be hurt by their deliberate avoidance of her.
She forlornly watched them dash up to Stefan, leaning against his car, and hug him, resting their heads against his chest, one arm wrapped around him, one around each other. He gathered them both in his arms, pressing a kiss to each head, before hustling them into the waiting vehicle and taking off. She was slightly ashamed by the stab of jealousy she felt. It used to be her that he comforted, her that he held. It used to be her that he would make feel that all was well in the world. She tried to suppress her resentment, aware that her friends needed nurturing.
Still, she felt shut out. She had tried once again to join Bonnie and Caroline at lunch, but the conversation was forced. The camaraderie they had once shared was gone. Frequently when she joined them they went silent as if what they were talking about so earnestly was not meant for her ears.
But they tolerated her presence. There was no such tolerance for Damon. If he joined them at the Grill they simply got up and walked away. His various attempts to force the issue resulted in a series of aneurysms from Bonnie and was met with brute force from Caroline. He had finally stopped at Elena's insistence, scared one of them would die.
She tried to suppress her feelings of exclusion and jealousy by rationalizing that she had Damon's love, and it was the best thing in the world. She frowned, but then smiled as she heard the distinctive sound of Damon's horn, and she spotted him waiting for her in his powder blue convertible. He unfailingly was there to pick her up after school, and they always did something to help her unwind from the stress of trying to pretend that everything was normal in her life. Damon listened to her fears and concerns and reassured her that she would get over it.
She crossed the parking lot thinking the entire time. Damon was fun and did everything in his power to amuse her, but today she was again struck by how much her circumstances had changed in two years. Years that sometimes seemed like days and other times like centuries. Two years ago she was captain of the cheerleaders, an A student, and the social queen of Mystic Falls. How had she gone from the center of power at school to practically a pariah?
She got into the car, saying 'hello' and sliding across the seat to kiss Damon. It was a beautiful day, and she partially rolled down the window, loving the feeling of the wind playing with her hair. Elena turned slightly in her seat to watch Damon's beautiful profile. He felt her gaze and turned to her, smiling happily. He reached over and grabbed her hand, raising it to his lips to bestow a kiss. He made her feel special, and when she was in his arms the passion they shared was unbelievable. She had a few bruises to show for it, even with Damon being as careful as he could. He was upset by them and offered to heal them with his blood, but she wouldn't hear of it. She was more determined than ever to remain human and wouldn't risk it.
She answered his smile with a smile. She knew she loved him because of the excitement, the anticipation she felt when she was with him, but she needed friends too and somehow she had lost them. It also worried her that he had no friends. After all, he had lost Alaric, forced to kill him to save her. She felt guilty about that too, but he shrugged off her concern. His unwillingness to talk about it with her nagged at the back of her mind, but she let it go. He would talk about it when he was ready,
Suddenly it came to Elena that she was being silly. She would ask Stefan for help. She knew he would always love her, and hadn't she tried to intercede with Damon when he had taunted Stefan with the fact that he and Elena had slept together. He made a point of touching her whenever Stefan was around. "She loves me, Stefan," he would say. "She's mine now."
He insisted she sleep over at the Boarding House and worked her body until she moaned and screamed with satisfaction.
He would get up in the morning and wander down to the kitchen, pajama bottoms down low on his hips, yawning and stretching, complaining how exhausted he was by their lovemaking.
Elena tried to apologize to Stefan, but he remained stoic saying Damon needed this, needed to wipe out the sting of Katherine's rejection. Elena had to admit that Stefan knew his brother better than she did because Damon did stop once he saw that Stefan accepted them together and made no attempt to regain her affection. She also had to admit that she was surprised, almost a little hurt that he didn't, but she quickly wiped that thought from her mind. It was Damon she loved, and it was better that Stefan accepted it.
Damon had dropped her off at the boarding house that night to let her get her homework done while he went to talk to the Sherriff. She took the opportunity to go to Stefan's room thinking it would be easier to talk to him without Damon around to make snide comments. She knocked on the door and he opened it, standing in the doorway. She was nonplussed that he didn't invite her in the way he used to.
She gave herself a little shake and then smiled at him. "Stefan, I need your help."
He didn't return her smile or immediately offer any assurance of help.
Again, she was a little taken aback by his lack of response, but gamely continued. "Things are strained between Bonnie, Caroline, and me. You're friends with all of us, and I want you to help us get back together again." She placed a hand on his arm while she spoke, but there was no yield, no softening in his stance.
"You'll have to talk to them about it," he said politely. "I'm not one of the girls."
"But you're their friend." She looked up at him, eyes pleading.
"Yes, I am. I would do anything for them," he admitted.
"And you're my friend, right?" She looked up at him from under her lashes, placing a hand on his chest, knowing how she had always affected him.
"No," he denied. "We're not friends." He clarified his thoughts. "You're the girlfriend of my brother."
"I, I thought you loved me." She faltered, shaken by his coldness.
"I did once, but it's no longer appropriate." He sighed. "I won't be used, Elena. This has been hard on me, but the one good thing is, I seemed to have grown some self-respect." He stepped back to close the door saying, "Damon is the one you should be going to."
"But they hate him," she wailed.
"I am sorry," he said as he closed the door in her face.
She stood there for several moments before slowly turning and walking back to Damon's room. She laid down on Damon's side of the bed, bunching his pillow up in her arms, taking comfort in the lingering smell of his shampoo. She wished he would come home soon to take her in his arms and kiss away her sorrow.
Her stomach was in knots, and she tried to calmly figure out what was wrong. She blinked back tears as she thought, this is so not fair. She was safe now and that was the problem. The fear and terror had kept back the thoughts. She had lived day to day without taking the time to think, concentrating only on surviving. But now she had time to think, time for guilt.
She had gone to a therapist, and the woman had been good. She had immediately identified survivor's guilt, but had also known that Elena was holding back something. Elena punched the pillow in frustration. Of course, she was holding back. If she had told the truth she would have been committed to a mental hospital. No one would believe her. The woman had been kind and recommended that if she couldn't be honest with her then she needed to talk it out with nonjudgmental friends, or find a therapist she could trust. Elena had felt bad that the woman thought she failed her . . damn it . . there it was again, she was always feeling bad.
Elena knew what she needed. She needed her friends, the people who had survived with her and had gone through hell with her, but they didn't want her. That innate honest core of her understood why. She was the symbol of all that was bad in their lives. They had suffered for her and because of her. Their lives had unalterably changed, and it was HER fault. Damon could utter all the platitudes he wanted, but deep down she knew the truth and that part of her did not flinch from it. If Miranda and Grayson Gilbert had not adopted the baby girl Elena, Bonnie and Caroline would not be suffering the way they were now. Bonnie would not have grown up motherless and lost everyone in her life that mattered to her. Caroline would not be facing life as a vampire, condemned to live eternity mourning the loss of her loved one.
She sighed deeply. She had spied on them for hours over the last couple of months as they sat talking, gesturing, and she could tell, reliving what they had gone through. Often Stefan joined them, and when they cried he would hold them and comfort them. He must have known she was there, but he never acknowledged her presence.
She grimaced at that thought. That's what she neededShe needed to talk to Stefan. He had always listened, allowing her to share her deepest thoughts, never judging, but still able to give sage advice. She silently laughed at herself. Had she really thought when she gave in to her feelings for Damon, that she would still have good old Stefan there to comfort her?
What a naïve fool she had been. When she thought about it at all, she had imagined a rosy future with Damon as her lover, and Stefan there when she needed a friend, a confidante.
More than anything else she wanted to be a normal teenager, to fit in again, to be accepted. When her two childhood friends had made it clear that things were different she tried to cultivate a new friend and had arranged to go on a double date with Debbie and her boyfriend and Damon. Disastrous was an understatement. Debbie was a senior, but still very immature. Damon had at first tried to charm her, but she was totally overwhelmed by him, showing her confusion by blushing and stammering. Her boyfriend, Denny, no Danny, was a total jock. Damon was bored within a half hour and made no attempt to hide it. After the sixth eye roll Elena had cut short the painful evening and spent the rest of the night drinking and making love with Damon.
She couldn't help but think it would have worked with Stefan. He would have been gentle with Debbie and able to talk sports with Danny, and she would have been doing normal teenage things on a normal teenage date. When she had tried to talk to Damon about it he had said that he wasn't a teenager and wasn't going to pretend to be one.
She allowed her mind to wander to the double date with Sherriff, no, Liz Forbes. Liz was going out on a third date with a man from an adjoining town and had called Damon begging him for support. The foursome had gone out to dinner, and Elena had felt totally out of it. They talked politics and TV shows, and movies and music that she had never heard of. She ended up mute for most of the night. The few times she had tried to talk about bands she liked she was met with blank stares. She, however, with a politeness instilled in her from childhood never betrayed her boredom or discomfort.
Her eyes filled with tears again. She knew that she needed to talk out her feelings, but that was the one thing Damon couldn't do with her. When she spoke about how alienated she felt, he kissed her and told her she always had him. When she tried to express her guilt over Jenna and her friends, he would stroke her head and rub her back and tell her it was all nonsense. When she tried to relate to him about Ric's death he would abruptly stop her by making love to her. He could not talk openly about his emotions, and when she taxed him on it he reminded her about her promise to accept him as he was.
She hovered on the edge of sleep, exhausted by the emotional turmoil of the day. Her mind released from her tight control hovered on the two brothers, and she mentally compared them. They felt so different. For some reason she really missed Stefan's long fingers, softly brushing back her hair, stroking her face. They were worker's or maybe farmer's hands, nails worn down to the beds, knuckles scarred. The skin was rough, but the touch on her was unbelievingly gentle. Damon had what she thought of as gentleman's hands. The skin was soft, the nails refined and buffed, but somehow his touch was rougher.
Damon was more passionate with her. He pushed her to the brink of what a human body could take, sometimes keeping her on the edge of pleasure and pain until she begged him to stop. Stefan had always seemed aware of the fact that she was human, reminding her of a child with a china doll, always mindful that it could be broken.
They were both lean and the same height, and their hair, even though different colors had the same texture, but their bodies were different. Damon was lean with underlying muscle, but Stefan's muscles were well defined and obvious. The only thing she could attribute it to was work while he was still human. He didn't talk much about that part of his life, but she had read his journals and knew he had worked in the fields and the barns alongside the hired hands. Not an ounce of fat on either one of them but still, different.
She wondered which one looked like their mother and which one looked like their father. They must both have had the gene for light colored eyes for one brother to end up with blue and the other green eyes. Damon had a much softer angled face than Stefan's square jaw and his eyes were the most beautiful she had ever seen. Stefan eyes betrayed his inner soul, but just couldn't match his brother's for sheer physical beauty.
The last thought that drifted through her mind before she was lost in sleep was that Katherine had been right to want both of them. She didn't remember that in the morning.
