καταναλωτής
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a/n: Wow. I was overwhelmed by the amount of reviews for the first chapter and because of that, I decided to make this story a little more lengthy. However, there is a catch. If you guys will review, then I'll update. As much as I love writing, I have a ton on my plate, many different writing assignments, finals, etc, and I don't want to write a story which quickly loses interest. Deal? (: Reviews are ever welcome.
Side note: The title of the story is Greek. The English translation is Consume. I found it appropriate. And if you look at the Greek translation, the first four letters begin to spell out Katherine's (or Katarina's) name. It was such a huge coincidence and the term fits Katherine so well. Plus I just miss her character, so, yeah. :p I had a reviewer ask about that, so I figured I'd clue you all in.
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part two
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They end up in a rather compromising position.
Elena has her hands wrapped around the doorframe, having managed to weasel her way there a moment before, and her knuckles are white with the effort from holding on. Sweat beads on her forehead, slipping towards the crevices in her taut lips. Damon has her by both of the legs, straining to pull her back without actually hurting her. But she's holding on just tight enough where he'd probably end up ripping one of her arms off if he really tugged hard enough. Damn her. Stefan has one hand extended towards Elena's waist as if to pull her, while the other hand quivers in front of his brother's icy gaze.
"Would you just let go?" Damon pants.
"Elena, let's go home and talk about this," Stefan echoes. She admires how calm he is able to stay in the midst of her chaos and yet it does nothing but rile her up even more. Somehow it is more exhilarating shouting at Damon and having him deal it right back to her. At least he's honest. He might be brutally harsh, but that blunt honesty kind of reminds her of her mom.
The memory of the bridge - the splash as their car hits the water, pain throbbing in her temples - tries to push its way in, and for a moment her grip loosens on the doorframe. Damon pulls again.
"I thought you would never hurt me," she pants, glaring at Damon.
He rolls his eyes, "I'm not hurting you, Elena. Just let go."
Elena takes a deep breath, forces the edge of tears into it. "Ah," she groans. "Damon, stop. It hurts."
"Damon," Stefan snaps, looking more worried than ever.
Damon releases her immediately. "Elena, I didn't mean-"
"I knew you'd never hurt me," she mumbles, flashing him a triumphant look and dashing out the door. It's stupid. Elena knows that they'll catch up to her in less than a second, but even taking her life into her own hands for this long is wonderful. It makes the caged feeling fade away just a little bit. She swerves around the corner, bangs through the front doors.
Then, just as she is clattering across the parking lot, arms fly around her like steel bars. The air is knocked out of her, and she leans her head back into his familiar chest. As much as she'll never be able to articulate it, or even prove to him that she cares, Elena does care. That's always the problem. I care too damn much, she thinks, tears springing to her eyes.
"Do you want me to force blood down your throat?" Damon growls. His face looks feral and for a moment, Elena is actually frightened.
"Damon," she murmers, swallowing.
"Because I can," he snarls as if he didn't hear her interruption. "I can take you right now and find some harmless pedestrian. It will be your first murder. You'll never forget it, Elena. Maybe then you'll understand a little bit of the hell Stefan and I have been through."
"Why are you acting this way?" Elena cries, turning in his arms, unable to fully detach herself from his body. His fingers are digging into her arms, but she barely feels it. There will be bruises there in the morning, if she's still alive.
"Because this is who I am," Damon hisses. "I'm a monster, Elena. We're all monsters."
"You are not a monster," Elena argues quietly, reaching up without thinking to touch his cheek. He stiffens beneath her touch. "You're so much more than that, Damon. I know you're more than that." The tears are building up in her eyes too quickly to surpress and she hates them, hates being so weak. "You're not really going to force-feed me blood, are you?" she asks in little above a whisper. Her throat burns with hunger and she swallows again. "You already did it once. Please, Damon. Don't-"
"What am I supposed to do, Elena?" Damon asks, his voice tight with fear and pain, so much pain. "Am I supposed to just let you die?"
"Yes," Elena says. Her voice wobbles.
His face falls. Guilt hits her like a brick.
"I'm not going to be around here when you die," Damon mutters, stepping away from her and running a hand through his hair. She catches herself looking at his lips, wanting to feel them one last time. "I already had to watch you die vicariously through Ric. I can't go through that again." He takes another step away from her and looks at a spot over her right shoulder. Elena turns to meet Stefan's shadowed face. He is glancing between the two of them.
"Take her home, brother," Damon says with a little knock. "I think I'll pack my things now."
"Damon-"
He is gone, the whistle of wind the only sign that he was here a moment before. Elena stands in place, unable to make her legs work. She feels Stefan's hand slide into hers. "The way you talk to each other," he starts.
"He's an idiot," Elena growls, more tears slipping down her cheeks.
"Let's go home." Stefan begins to tug her towards the car.
She can't do it. "Stefan," Elena groans.
Stefan glances back at her, face a blur of too many emotions to count. He captures her face in his hands, drags her lips up to his. Stefan kisses her as though by doing so he can suck some of his own life into the girl that he loves. That maybe their love will be enough to defeat death. Elena kisses him just as fiercely, as though maybe it will smudge away the dark stain of guilt hovering over her, the little voice that tells her that no matter what choice she makes, she'll have to hurt someone. It doesn't consume her, not like Damon's kisses. She hates that. It makes her feel like her love for Stefan has been damaged thanks to Damon. She made a choice. She chose Stefan. She loves him.
"Can't you-" Stefan tries when they part.
She shakes her head. "Not even for you," Elena breathes, squeezing his hand. He doesn't get it. None of them do. This decision is bigger than any of them. This decision is just about her and her morals for once.
Elena can't imagine herself feeding on innocent people, dealing with the lingering taste of blood on her fangs, knowing that she will be incinerated in a second should she take her daylight ring off. She can't be that person. She's not that person and she doesn't think she'll ever be.
Silence falls over them as they slide into the van Stefan bought specifically for carting Klaus around. It has never been like this. They have always found something to talk about. Elena reaches over and turns on the radio, flicking the button until it reaches a classical station, one of Stefan's favorites. He smiles at her. She is unable to keep from smiling back.
"Do you remember the night when you saved me form my parents' car?" Elena asks him, the thought of the car sinking underneath the choppy river water making her queasy. She'll probably always have nightmares about it.
Stefan nods.
"Thank you," she says, turning towards him and sliding her hand through his once more, "for saving me."
"Why bother thanking me?" Stefan asks hoarsely. "It only earned you another year of life."
"Because in that one year, I learned to live," Elena says slowly, mulling over the words. That one afternoon when she stood at the bridge with Matt and flung the flowers into the river surfaces in her memory. Maybe that's the first time she really started to appreciate the fact that she was alive, that it was okay to be different. "I met you, Stefan. We fell in love." Her smile widens. "We still love each other."
"Even after all the crap I put you through," Stefan mutters. The dark tone of his voice bothers her.
"We made it through that," Elena answers slowly, winding her thumb around his. "I made friends, lost friends, learned how to laugh again, and - and-"
"And you met Damon," Stefan says, not sounding all that pleased.
The thought of Damon sends a rush of sadness through Elena. "And I met Damon," she murmers, biting her lip. "I don't understand why he won't let me make my own decisions. He's so overprotective."
"It's because he loves you," Stefan says. It's so unexpected coming from his mouth that Elena does a double-take.
"I know he does," Elena answers, her voice tinged with sadness and frustration. "I just, I can't - love isn't supposed to be about controlling someone's decisions, Stefan. Sometimes he smothers me."
"He does that," Stefan says, casting her a quick glance. "You know, if you're really not going to transition, then you should give him a proper goodbye."
Elena stares at the road in front of them, watching how the headlights casting a rippling patterns against the trees to either side. "Thank you for being so unselfish," she says finally, squeezing his hand again. "I love you."
"I love you too." Stefan flips his turn signal on as they approach the Gilbert driveway.
Elena's hand tightens around his. "Now to break the news to Jeremy," she mumbles, taking a deep breath. Jeremy is standing in the silhouette of the doorway, his face brightening with relief the moment Elena jumps from the passenger seat onto the driveway. He rushes towards her, pulling her off the ground with his exuberant hug. She smiles into his shoulder.
"So, have you completed the transition yet?" Jeremy asks. He looks so hopeful that she considers lying.
"Jer," Elena sighs, kneeding her forehead.
Jeremy's brow furrows. "What's going on?"
Stefan pats the boy's shoulder. Jeremy looks between them, his face freezing with disbelief.
"Jer," Elena begins again, eyes watering, "I'm not going to transition."
He goes absolutely still. Then, without any warning, he begins to cry. "No, no," he sobs, stumbling away from her. "Elena you can't do that."
"Jeremy, please," Elena begs, following him into the house. "You don't understand."
"I understand perfectly," Jeremy cries, trying to keep his voice from cracking. "You're abandoning me. I have no one left but you, Elena. You can't die!"
Tears break from Elena's eyes again - she's cried more tonight than she has in her entire life, she thinks. "You'll still have Stefan and Damon," she tries again. "Jer, I can't-"
"Stefan and Damon are here for you," Jeremy accuses, glaring at Stefan. "The moment you're dead, they'll be too heartbroken to do anything but skip town. What am I going to do then?"
"Call Caroline and Bonnie," Elena tells Stefan through her tears. "Ask Caroline how long she thinks I'll have before -" she can't say it. "I just need to talk to them."
Stefan nods, giving them both a worried glance before disappearing into the kitchen.
"Elena," Jeremy whimpers once they're alone. "Please don't let yourself die. Please don't leave me here."
She feels a little part of her heart break as her little brother cries in front of her. The last time he was so open about his feelings was the weeks following their parents' deaths. He had tried to put the mask on then, too, but the grief had been too much for the both of them. He'd spent just as much time in bed as she had. It kills her to see him so vulnerable, so alone.
"Jeremy, I can't feed on innocent people," Elena whispers. "That's not who I am." He falls to the floor and she sinks beside him, cradling Jeremy in her arms as sobs shake his body. She isn't sure how long they linger there on the floor, only that there is a pain blossoming in her gums and her brother's blood is practically singing to her. She ignores it. I will not bite Jeremy. That is not an option.
Stefan re-enters the room. "Caroline says that you probably have a matter of hours," he croaks, watching her hold Jeremy's feeble form.
Elena nods. She leans her head against the top of Jeremy's brown hair and begins to sing a familiar song their mother used to sing for them before it was time to go say goodnight. Their mom had called it "goodbye until tomorrow." Strangely fitting for a time like this.
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to be continued
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