All at Once

Chapter 1: It Comes Like a Punch

Stefan sat near Elena's side, waiting, just waiting. However, it was not so much with dread, but with an acceptance of the inevitable. Like waiting near the deathbed of a loved one, for days or months. However, he never pictured it like this. If Stefan was perfectly honest he would say that he always figured that it would be Damon's fault. That Damon, in his impulsive ways, would attempt to force his blood down her throat again at some point. Not that he hadn't already nearly seen this end realized before.

Quickly he remembered another terrible night on the Wickery bridge, when he had used Elena as leverage, and forced her to drink his blood as well. He kept telling himself he wouldn't have killed her, that he was bluffing through and through. Stefan also knew that he was also still out of his mind with vengeance at the time. The truth is that he is not sure what he would have really done if Klaus had not given in.

Then the thought that he had somewhat hoped for many times, fluttered to the surface of his mind. He could have Elena forever. He neither would have to see her withdraw from him in age, nor wither away and die. But even further below the surface, into the darker parts of him, he did regret that Damon was not the one to do it. If he had she might have pushed him further away, hated him, for depriving her of a choice.

Quickly, he pushed those thoughts down to the depths before the guilt could set in. He not only ignored them, he feigned ignorance to himself, silently vowing to never let them cross his mind again.

Finally Elena emerged from her, what could he call it? Sleep? She rose from the table with a gasp, her eyes open wide. Slowly he stood and reached out to her, holding her face in his hands.

"Elena," he called to her firmly. Her eyes whirled around to focus on his face. "You're at the hospital, in Mystic Falls." What seemed to be wild confusion, turned to wild panic.

"Matt!" she said, loudly and urgently.

"He's fine. I saved him Elena, just as you asked me to," Stefan replied, his voice quiet and calm. She relaxed, and Stefan let go of her face, changing his position to stand in front of her, arms crossed. He watched as she brought herself up to a sitting position on the table, and crossed her legs in front of her.

Stefan didn't know if he should bring it up, if she had already realized the only possible reason they were here, talking. He was apprehensive, knowing the tears and heartache it would bring.

"I'm so cold," Elena said, before Stefan could broach the subject. He sighed, and walked back over to his chair to retrieve his jacket. He wrapped it around her and started to rub her arms.

Once again her eyes turned to meet his, and he was wordless.

"Did you," she started slowly, pausing to look down at herself, "save me?" She already knew the answer, but she wanted some affirmation. She was still in shock. After all, she had mere seconds to consider her decision after Stefan pulled Matt from his battered truck.

Stefan's frown revealed the answer before any sound left his lips, but he spoke all the same. "No," he whispered, "I went back. I pulled you out. But it was too late." She nodded, and stared down at her legs. Stefan was still in front of her, hands on her arms, and he panicked at losing the contact with her eyes.

Finally she nodded, and pulled away from Stefan to swing her legs over the side of her current perch. "And Matt's fine?" she questioned, wanting to confirm that her last wish had been fully granted.

"Yes, he's already been sent home." He stared at her back, waiting for tears, waiting for an outcry, an answer to that one, and most important question. It didn't come.

"Thank you," she turned her head to look at him, "Thank you for saving him."

"Did you know?" was all Stefan could respond with.

Again she turned away from him, looking at all the dark corners in the room. Finally she managed a simple, "yes."

"And you didn't tell us." His voice was calm, unsurprised. He knew that Elena would have wanted to protect Jeremy, Caroline, and anyone else the stress. She hadn't died, was made perfectly healthy, why bother?

Before Elena could explain her choice of action, the doors to the room were thrown open, and the loud bang as they hit the wall seemed to echo in the still room. Stefan was not surprised, but he was also not thrilled to see his brother standing in the door way.

"Damon," Stefan groaned out, not even making an attempt at sounding cordial.

"Nice to see you too," Damon replied contemptuously, "how was your near death experience?"

Stefan pulled his hand up to his face and turned away. After the night's happenings he was not in the mood to trade comebacks with his brother.

Elena got to her feet, feeling Damon's stare but not returning it. She dropped Stefan's jacket to rest where she had been sitting moments before.

"And now," he stated, directing his words towards Elena, "I think it's time we get some blood in you. Time's a tickin'."

"Damon, I don't know if I'm going to complete the transition," Elena said, laying her eyes on him.

"You can't be serious."

"Don't you think," Stefan piped in, determined to give his two cents, "that this should be Elena's choice alone."

"Really?" Damon mocked, "Because every Elena decision has turned out so great in the past?"

"Excuse me," Elena interrupted, walking over to the two brothers, "But I would like some time alone to think things through." Their heads spun over to her, as if they suddenly remembered that she had been standing there all along. "If that wouldn't be too much to ask." The annoyance in her voice was very clear, however, Damon's solidarity prevented him from leaving the room, while Stefan's determination to prevent as much of Damon's interference as he possibly could, made it impossible for him as well. After waiting a few moments, she threw her hands up in the air, walked out of the room, and into the brightly lit hallway.

Damon began to pace, knowing that he would have to give chase, but not yet knowing what to do or what to say. It took everything in him not to steal a blood bag from the hospital, corner her, and force her to drink it down. However, he knew that is not how he really wanted things to be, that it wasn't who he wanted to be. Damon was normally all for doing things Elena wouldn't like to save her, but personal experience kept him in place. Not only had he had something similar done to him, but how many years did he spend hating his brother?

Then there was a promise. His promise to Elena that he wasn't going to fly off the handle and screw everything up ever again. It was said in pain and frustration, but it was a vow that he would not make it so easy for her to give him up. He admitted that for a long time he was the type of person who, after shit hit the fan, would commence to burn down the house down around it. He didn't want to make any promises that a force feeding attempt wouldn't take place, she could hate him as long as she was alive, but somehow he knew that such an extreme was not needed in this situation.

Shortly, Stefan interrupted his deep thought, "Don't you think I thought of that?"

"Oh, I am sure," Damon replied, the two of course referring to what Damon had just been pondering, "Not like it would be the first time."

"Except we are talking about Elena, not you and me."

"Elena...she always changes things."

"She has to choose. You know I won't take that choice away from her."

"Yeah, well I guess there's the difference between you and me." Damon's gaze grew harder as he came closer to his brother, his face a mere inches away from his. "I will never give up on her." And at that, he swept out of the room and after Elena. ]

Stefan considered going after them, about being there, and helping Elena to hold her ground. It didn't feel like that though. It was either live or die, and if yet again Damon could do what he couldn't, perhaps he should let him.