A Series Of Moments
Author's Note: So . . . here's part 2 which takes us through The Dinner Party. I don't have any plans to go any further with it (I'm trying to work on the 3rd part of the Fairy Godmother series) Let me know what you think, good or bad.
Vol. 2: A Difference Of Opinions
The first thing that she noticed when she awoke hours later is that Stefan never came to bed. The light was still on from her adventures into Jonathan Gilbert's journals, the books were scattered over the bedspread, and her arm has a cramp in it from sleeping on it.
Stefan never came to bed.
Never at any point in their relationship – even during their "break up" following Jenna's stabbing injury – had they ever disagreed to this level. She sat up, stretching her tired muscles, and pushed the books farther on the bed.
The pain in her heart hurts far worse than her cramped arm.
The light was just starting to make an appearance outside and a quick glance to the clock on the nightstand revealed it to be five in the morning.
Where was Stefan?
She swung her legs off the bed and stood up, rubbing her eyes. She walked out of the room, still rubbing her eyes. As she went around the house she still didn't find Stefan. He was just. . . gone. He wouldn't just leave, would he? She hurried to the living room window and looked out, taking a deep sigh of relief when she saw his red car still in the driveway. Okay, so he was still here . . . but where?
She yawned, finding her mouth dry, and went into the kitchen to get a drink of water. She pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge, unscrewed the cap, and took a drink. The cool water felt good on her dry throat – leftover soreness from her panic attack the day before.
As she looked out the kitchen window, she saw Stefan standing out on the dock. He was wearing different clothes and she vaguely remembered hearing the water from the shower run during the night. His back is turned to her as he skips rocks, chucking them harshly off the dock.
She wonders if he's been out there all night. She's so worried about him but knows they're both too stubborn to end this fight. Always before with any fight they had – which were minimal – it would always end with an 'I'm sorry' and a myriad of kisses through the night.
But this one was much bigger . . . it wasn't over Damon or his blood drinking problem or John or Katherine or anything else. It was about their difference of opinion over Elena's life. Her life . . . the one she was ready, willing, and able to give up in order to protect him and everyone else she loved.
So as much as she wanted to go out there and call a truce and stumble into the bedroom kissing . . . she wouldn't. Because she believed she was right and wasn't going to give in.
She put the bottle down and started a pot of coffee. Then she moved all Jonathan Gilbert's journal from her room to downstairs on the coffee table in the living room. She pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and sat down in the arm chair next to the back patio doors. She watched Stefan throwing the rocks for a moment before diving back in where she'd left off the night before in Jonathan Gilbert's journal:
With the dyring embers of the fire at Fell's Church, the scourge of the vampires had passed. And though war raged all around us, our town was safe from the demons of the night. Or, so we thought. The monsters we drove to their fiery deaths had beget new monsters.
Elena read how Jonathan described as a vampire attacked him, Honoria Fell, and her husband Thomas Fell as they dined. Honoria had heard a noise and Thomas went outside to check. Jonathan followed to ease her fears and took the vampire-finding compass.
But soon after Jonathan stepped outside, the compass went off. Thomas disappeared – only to be dropped dead at Jonathan's feet moments later. Honoria came outside and was the next to die.
I knew I was about to die. You cannot run from a vampire. I saw the vampire who killed me. I recognized him. It was Stefan Salvatore . . .
Elena's heart skipped a beat. She looked up from the journal and turned outside to where Stefan was pacing on the dock. Her boyfriend the vampire who was angry at her for trying to sacrifice her own life . . . the one who'd saved her life and her friends . . .
He killed the Founding Families . . . including her ancestor.
Why had he never told her? Back when he'd had the problem with human blood he told her the blood made him different. They'd talked about Damon and Katherine and Giuseppe and how he been a different person back then. He'd told her all that . . . but why had he not told her about this?
She read on as Jonathan described as a monstrous Stefan viciously attacked him, tearing his throat out and draining him before leaving him in the grass. Hours later when he woke up he remembered the the rings he'd invented to keep him and his son safe.
Elena looked over to a picture on the table of her parents, seeing the ring on her dad's finger that Jeremy now had. She thought of the ring Isobel had given Alaric. She remembered when Bonnie showed her Emily's grimoire. Emily must have spelled the rings to make Jonathan think he'd invented them. The only question was . . . why were only two made? And why only for the Gilberts?
She flipped through the pages anxiously hoping to find the answer. She wondered if Emily somehow, someway, knew something about the future and a Gilbert's involvement in the sun and moon curse. Had Katherine known? Was that part of the reason she came to Mystic Falls in the first place?
She reread the part where Stefan attacked Jonathan . . . maybe she'd missed something―
The door opened loudly and she jumped. Stefan just looked at her and she could still see the anger on his face. She sighed, watching as he took off his jacket, setting it on the chair. Then he looked at her and guilt jumped in her throat.
Her voice was calm, "Are you still mad?" As disturbing as it was reading about him as a monstrous vampire, she knew it was all in the past. He would never hurt her or anyone else anymore. It just bothered her that he hadn't told her.
He huffed, his hands on his hips, as he turned to face her. "Yeah. I'm still mad."
"We have a difference of opinion, Stefan. We're not always going to agree on everything," As guilty as she felt, she still wasn't going to give in.
"Elena, you've agreed to sacrifice yourself to Klaus. To say that we have a 'difference of opinion' is the understatement of the century," He said.
"You would know," She thew back.
He smirked, chuckling.
She bit back her smile, still not so happy herself. She didn't understand why he couldn't see her side of it and she didn't like that he'd kept from her the fact that he murdered her ancestor.
He crossed his arms, looking at the journals. "What does Jonathan Gilbert have to say?"
She lifted the book, wondering if he already knew what was in it. Should she tell him? "A lot." She thumbed through it. "It's insane. The things that he wrote in his journal. What he kept from the Founding Families." She handed him the book. "Stuff that nobody knows. Stuff that . . . you never told me." Her eyes searched his. He didn't seem angry that he'd been caught . . . just ashamed. She looked down. He opened the book.
She bit her lip, unsure of what the next few moments would bring. Would he deny it? Would he be angry that she knew? Would he cry in shame on her lap?
He closed the book, winding the string around it. "We were, ah . . ."
She looked up, determined to just listen to what he had to say.
"We were angry at the Founding Families for, ah, what they did to Katherine." Her eyes found his and she felt touched by his honesty. She knew this wasn't easy for him. "We wanted revenge. I didn't know about Jonathan Gilbert's ring yet." He sat down across from her. "I didn't know that he would . . . that he would survive."
"He descibed you as a monster," She knew how it sounded but she couldn't help it.
He nodded, shame in his eyes. "It's what I was." He stared right in her eyes, not faltering. "I want you to know the truth. But I want you to hear it from me." He put Jonathan's journal down on the table. She pulled the blanket over her . . . and she listened.
"In the weeks after I became a vampire, I relished in it," He told her. She remembered how he'd been when she'd seen him on the human blood and inwardly cringed. She tried not to let him see . . . but he did. Guilt and shame and sadness filled his face . . . but he continued. "I took it to the darkest place I could." He cleared his throat, still looking her in the eye. "Girls." He croaked. "Dozens and dozens of them."
"Girls?" Elena raised her eyebrow.
"They were young . . . and their blood was . . . sweet," Stefan told her, looking down. "It was addicting."
Elena nodded, remembering when he went after Amber at the Miss Mystic Falls pageant.
"They were so easy to compel," He shook his head, sighing. "So willing . . . all of them. And . . . I enjoyed it . . ." He looked up. "I wasn't myself then. I was full of guilt. What I did to my father . . . to my brother . . . I had to turn it off. It was the only way I could survive."
"It sounds like you were Damon," She couldn't believe she'd just said that.
He just shook his head, staring off into nothing. "No . . . I was worse."
Her breath catches in her throat. Worse . . . how could that be possible? It all suddenly becomes too much for her. How could he be worse?
He stood up, going into the kitchen. She pushed the blanket off her, standing. She felt too confined between the memories of the house and the new information that her boyfriend was once worse than his brother. She goes to look out the window . . . at the wide open sky. She hears Stefan in the kitchen.
She looks out, breathing deeply, trying to stay calm. The last thing either of them needed right now was for her to have another panic attack.
Stefan's walking toward her and talking but she doesn't turn around. "For weeks I kept spiraling, driven by the desire for blood." She turns slightly when he's right next to her and he hands her a cup of coffee. "Hunt. Prey. Kill. It was all I knew."
She doesn't know what to say so she just takes a drink. It almost feels like he's talking about someone else. Her Stefan would never do that. Well, except for that one time . . . but she brought him out of it. And, she would do it again. But . . . "How come no one caught on to what you doing?"
"There was a war going on," He told her. She nodded, vaguely remembering Alaric's lessons on that war. "The thing about wartime? Endless anonymous bullet supply. It was dark and everyone was so busy with what they were doing they didn't notice."
They both took a drink.
"I noticed a girl, a nurse I guess, helping some of the sick. I'd never seen her before . . . and after so many sick and dying soldiers . . ." Stefan gulped. "I craved a young girl. So . . . I followed her out deeper into the woods. I stalked her and I was going to attack her . . . but she beat me too it. Called me an idiot." He smirked.
"Who was she?" Elena said.
"Alexia Branson, as she was known back then," Stefan said, a twinge of hurt in his voice.
"Lexi?" Elena raised her eyebrows. He hadn't talked about Lexi since she'd died. Stefan nodded, sighing. "Your best friend, Lexi? That's how you met her?" Stefan nodded again. "What was she even doing in Mystic Falls?"
Stefan shrugged, "She had heard it was a good place for vampires to go. Had no idea that they'd all been massacred. Needed a place to crash, so . . . I brought her home with me."
When he said he brought her home, for a moment Elena wondered if they'd ever slept together. She knew it was absurd to be jealous of a dead vampire . . . but she couldn't help it. Stefan had even told her when Lexi first come to town that she was his best friend and nothing ever happened. Still, though, sometimes she wondered.
"I brought her to the place Damon and I had been staying while we hid from the Founding Families but, ah, I'd forgotten to dispose of the bodies." He looked down, ashamed. "She called me a Ripper . . . told me there were 'good' and 'bad' parts of being a vampire and I was the bad parts." He sighed. "Said she was going to change me. Help me see the good parts. I, ah, I resisted. I found her annoying – at first – and I didn't understand any other way to be a vampire than I'd seen from Katherine."
He looked down, away from Elena, then looked back.
Her gaze softened, her voice calm, "Are you okay?"
She knew he was still mad at her, but she could also see that the memories were beginning to take their toll on him.
He nodded, looking down. "Talking about her brings up things that I'd, ah, rather forget."
She sighed, "Like Damon killing her."
He nodded and she hated the pain in his eyes. She always hated to see him hurting.
Stefan cleared his throat, "Um . . . I'm going to go step outside for a moment. Take a walk."
She nodded. He needed a moment. He needed to hunt. He needed to be alone. Neither of them needed to say anything. There was nothing to say. They were both comfortable with this part of his life. He needed to feed, to hunt, and she understood. At this point in their relationship, it was the most normal part of their lives.
After he left, she made herself something to eat and returned to her ancestor's journals. As she got farther in his life, the farther out his sanity became. He became consumed with learning anything and everything he could about the vampires. He pushed his son – the only family he had left – away, putting up walls that would never be broken down.
Sure, he talked about his family. His son got married, had children and continued the Gilbert line. But Jonathan seemed to only be a casual observer – someone to record the family history. These records only covered about three pages in one of the journals.
The rest was about vampires, werewolves, witches . . . detailed, recorded facts and musings that went on for pages and pages. By the end, it was if Jonathan thought of nothing but vampires.
TVDTVDTVDTVDTVDTVDTVD
Hours later, Elena heard the front door open and saw Stefan walk in through the corner of her eye. She didn't look up as she talked, deeply immersed in her ancestor's words. "Jonathan Gilbert got crazier and crazier. Guess that's what happens when you spend your life obsessed with vampires." She sighed, setting the book on the table in front of her and picked up another one.
Stefan walked toward her but stayed back a bit, leaning on one of the wooden columns. Elena opened up the next journal. Warning bells flashed in her brain when one word flew off the page in front of her: Originals. "He researched the Originals . . ." She said aloud.
"You're kidding," Stefan sat next to her.
"Later in life. Look," She pointed to the page as he sat down. She flipped through the book. "Pages and pages of questions a-and scribbles . . ." She stopped on a page with a dagger-like drawing. "What's that?"
She felt Stefan tense next to her as he stared at the page.
She read: "'The wood from one tree and one tree alone, an ancient white oak, would bring death to an Original vampire. When the tree burned, all hope was thought lost.'" She looked up at Stefan. "He was trying to figure out how to kill an Original." She continued reading. "'But the ash from the tree was saved and witches forged the dagger to which the ash could be bonded. This alchemic bond provides the necessary poison that―"
"Elena . . ." Stefan said, standing, turning toward her, but she wasn't paying attention.
"I wonder if this is true!" She said. "Do you think that this dagger actually exists?"
"I know it does," Stefan said.
She looked up, confused.
"Because John gave it to Damon," He told her.
She was confused. That didn't make sense. "John gave Damon the weapon that's supposed to kill Elijah? This one?" She pointed in the book. Stefan nodded. "'It must be brandished by humans alone, for it will bring death to all demons who wield it.'"
Stefan snatched the book from her hands, reading it for himself. There was a look of panic on his face. "John's trying to get Damon killed." Stefan threw the book down and took out his cell phone, dialing Damon's number. "Why is your phone off. Call me!" Stefan shouted, leaving Damon a message.
Elena didn't like this. "What's going on, Stefan?" Why did it feel like he was hiding something from her?
Stefan sighed, staring right at her. "Damon is planning on killing Elijah." She stood up. "Tonight."
"We have to stop him!" She said.
"He won't answer his phone," Stefan let out a breath. gWait, he said something about a dinner party . . . I'll try Alaric . . ."
Elena nodded, "Hurry, Stefan . . ."
He dialed Alaric's number. It as answered on the first ring. "Hello?"
"You have to tell Damon to stop. Don't let him kill Elijah. Don't let him, Ric." Stefan blurted out.
"Wh-whoa, slow down. Stefan?" Ric said.
"Yes – don't let Damon kill Elijah. Only humans can use the dagger. If he uses the dagger to kill Elijah he wil die too." Stefan told him.
"Okay, okay," Alaric said. "Um . . . um . . . I'll figure something out . . .I'll do it . . ."
"He could kill you before you had the chance," Stefan shook his head. Elena's eyes widened.
"I'll surprise him," Alaric said.
"N-no . . ." Stefan said but it was too late. Alaric hung up. Elena looked at him expectantly. Stefan sighed. "He said he would do it."
"Elijah could kill him!" Elena said.
"I know . . ." Stefan said.
"This is not good . . ." Elena sat down, taking a deep breath. "What do we do?"
Stefan sighed, "Honestly . . . we just have to wait."
Elena stood up, pacing. "Oh god . . . this is not good . . . I-I . . . I need some air . . ." She heaved, headed for the balcony door. She opened the door and gasped as the cold air hit her face. There were so many ways that this could go wrong . . .
She stood next to the railing, staring out into the woods. Again Stefan had kept her out of the loop of what they were doing. He and Damon had done it when they decided to try to kill Katherine at the Masquerade ball and Elena had ended up hurt and kidnapped because of it. They'd decided to get the moonstone away from Katherine and Jeremy had been bitten and Stefan stuck in the tomb. Stefan decided to go find Isobel and brought John of all people back.
She was sick of it. It was her life Klaus wanted to end. It was her life that Elijah hadn't promised to protect. She was the doppelganger. She was willing to give up her life to protect all the people she loved – Stefan, Damon, Bonnie, Jeremy, Caroline, Tyler, Jenna, Ric, Matt, the entire world – away from Klaus and they kept making decisions for her like she was a child that couldn't be trusted to do anything by herself.
She heard Stefan open the door and she inwardly rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "Elena, we need to talk about this."
"What good is talking if you and Damon are just gonna lie to me?" She turned to face him. "If you don't like my decisions, that's fine. There's nothing I can do about that but if you ever go behind my back again I'll―"
"You're gonna what?" He interrupted her. "What are you gonna do, Elena?"
"It's my life!" She shouted.
"Yeah – exactly. It's your life," Stefan shouted back. "And I'm going to everything I can to make sure you live it."
"So what, this 'trip through the past', you being honest? Was there any truth to that or were you just distracting me?" She couldn't believe him right now. After everything she'd gone through the day before, sharing some pretty painful moments with him. Things she hadn't talked about for months. Hell, even having a panic attack so severe she couldn't breathe . . .
"I was telling you about a time when I thought everything was lost," He said. "When I had given up because that is exactly what you are doing right now."
"That is not what I am―"
"Yes it is even if you don't want to admit it!" He shouted louder. "You are giving up! And Lexi? She wouldn't let me give up. I'm not going to let you."
And just like that . . . she felt her resolve weaken. She knew, now, that she'd been wrong. Her 'suicidal martyr missions' . . . it was wrong. She wanted to protect the ones she loved . . . but the way she was doing it was wrong.
Stefan told her more about Lexi. How she helped him control his blood craving, practically put him through a 9-step system to become a better vampire.
"I don't mean to be so harsh . . ." Stefan's voice was rough, low. Elena couldn't move. "Lexi helped me get my humanity back. She said "there is a better way, you simply have to want it."
The words cut down deep in Elena's chest. It was true . . . she wasn't a vampire. But the way she'd gone about all this . . . it shut down her humanity. Thinking about it now . . . it all started when Katherine compelled Jenna to stab herself. It had truly scared her . . . and the simple solution to it not happening again seemed, at the time, to be to stop dating Stefan. That was her first mistake. She'd let Katherine win . . .
She listened as Stefan continued to tell her about Lexi, who told him that he had to let his humanity back in . . . everything – including the painful parts of humanity – because hurt led to love.
"Lexi showed me that there was another way," Stefan said. Elena still couldn't move as he stepped toward her. "And from that day forward, I started fighting for it. For my own survival." She sighed, ashamed. She'd been weak, and she knew it. He rested his hand on her cheek. "That's all I want you to do. I just want you to fight for it."
He was right.
She suddenly felt as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders and she leaned in, relaxed, as he held her chin on either side and kissed her forehead.
And then . . . he looked in her eyes one more time before walking away back inside the house.
She was left on the balcony to ponder what he'd said. She still wanted to protect the ones she loved . . . but maybe they could find another way. Maybe if she wanted it enough . . .
Of course, she was still mad at him and Damon both for not being truthful about what they were doing and leaving her out of it. But . . . she understood that they, too, were just trying to protect her.
She sighed, going back into the house to continue reading Jonathan's journals. At this point, she was too immersed to not continue reading.
Stefan came down the stairs. She looked up. He was twirling his phone, setting it down on the counter next to him. "Elijah's dead. Alaric did it."
Elena nodded as Stefan sat down beside her. "Originals believed in truth and honor. It was forbidden for a vampire to kill another vampire. So the dagger would take both lives. And . . ." She sighed. "As long as the dagger stays in place the Originals, for all intended purposes, are dead."
She looked up, confused, when Stefan rushed over to his phone and started dialing. "Damon! Is the dagger still in Elijah? Its the only way he stays dead . . ."
Elena's eyes widened.
"The dagger, Damon!" Stefan's voice was strained. "It has to stay in the Original's heart!"
"Stefan, what's going on?" Elena's voice cracked.
Stefan turned to her. "He's gone."
"Oh god . . ." She held her breath. "He'll come here, I know he will. For all purposes I broke the deal . . ."
"We have to do something . . ." Stefan pressd a button on his phone, putting it on speaker phone.
"Well, yeah, but what?" Elena heard Damon over the phone.
"The dagger," Elena stood up. "Bring the dagger here, quickly. I think I have a plan . . ."
"Elena . . ." Stefan said, worried.
"Done. . ." Damon hung up.
"You can't, Elena . . ." Stefan put his phone back in his pocket. He closed the space between them, his hands on her arms.
"I have to . . ." She whispered. "It's the only way. I'll renegotiate the deal and if he doesn't agree . . ."
"What?" Stefan's brow creased.
"I'll take a few notes from Katherine . . ." She sighed.
"No," Stefan shook his head. "I won't allow it."
"I don't actually plan on becoming a vampire tonight or dying," Elena said. "Elijah just needs to be reminded of the possibility. It'll throw him off guard . . . and then I'll stab him with the dagger."
"I don't like it," Stefan shook his head. "It's too risky." His voice lowered and he pulled her into his arms, his face in her neck. "I can't lose you, Elena."
She wrapped her arms around his waist, inhaling his cologne. "You won't. I just need you close by."
He nodded, pulling his head back. "Always." He hugged her tight and she held him back. She felt tears tug at her eyes but she held them back. There would be time to break down later. Right now she needed to be strong.
Stefan sighed, pulling back. "Damon's here. He'll need an invite."
He kissed her lovingly as her hand entwined with his. He followed her to the door and she opened it, still holding tightly onto his hand.
Damon appeared on the porch with the dagger in one hand and the bottle of ash in the other. "We need to be fast. He'll be here any minute."
"Come in," Elena sighed, nodding. She leaned into Stefan's embrace as Damon entered the house, closing the door behind him. The went into the kitchen as Elena explained the plan to Damon. He seemed to not like it as much as Stefan but agreed it was the only way. He suggested he hide upstairs so Elijah wouldn't know he was there.
Stefan and Elena agreed, watching as Damon dipped the edge of the dagger in the bottle. He handed it over to Elena, who crossed her arms and hid it up her sleeve. She picked up another knife, a kitchen knife, from the table and held it against her other arm. Damon sped upstairs. Stefan stepped behind her and held her. It felt good to be in his arms. It made her feel safe and despite her fear for what she was about to do, it gave her the courage she needed.
"Make sure you don't go too high. Or too low," He whispered. "Even with my blood it could cause serious damage later. And not too deep. Pull the blade out as soon as you can and put pressure on the wound." She nodded, feeling comforted by his hot breath on her neck.
She started walking away toward the living room when Stefan grabbed her arm, pulling her back. "He's here . . ."
Elena felt her heart skip a beat. She was scared. What if she couldn't convince him? What if she missed? What if Stefan couldn't get to her on time? She turned to look at Stefan, needing to look at him.
Then the door exploded, flying toward them. She gasped and Stefan pulled her back out of the way.
"You have to go," She said quickly, wanting to kiss him but there wasn't time. "I need to talk to him alone."
"Elena . . ."
"Stefan, I'm okay," She assured him. "He can't come in the house." He stared in her eyes and she could see he was just as scared as she was.
"You know," Elijah said from outside. "I might not be able to enter this house but . . . I am a very patient man. I'll wait you out."
Elena turned, gulping, trying to ready herself for the task at hand. She tried to compose herself and not let her fear show as she walked in Elijah's view. Her arms were still crossed and she felt the dagger chafe against the her skin under her sleeve.
She walked slowly, "They shouldn't have done what they did."
"The deal is off," Elijah said.
She tried to put force in her voice. "I'm renegotiating."
"You have nothing left to negotiate with," Elijah stepped forward.
She took a deep breath, feeling it was time to lay out his options for him. She slid the kitchen knife from her arm and held it out, her voice shaking. "I'd like to see you lure Klaus into Mystic Falls after the doppelganger bleeds to death."
"Stefan wouldn't let you die," Elijah was calm.
"No, he won't," At least they agreed on that much. "He'll feed me his blood to heal me. And then I'll kill myself and become a vampire just like Katherine did."
Elijah seemed to be considering her words. She really hoped he agreed.
"So unless you want that to happen again, promise me the same as before. Promise me . . . you won't harm anyone I love." She said, quickly adding. "Even if they've harmed you."
Elijah just smirked. Her heart was hammering in her chest. "I'm sorry, Elena." Elena listened carefully to what he said. His gaze was on the knife in her hands. "I'm going to have to call your bluff."
She sighed, trying to remember where and how Stefan had told her to do this. Elijah didn't believe her. She had to do this. She took a deep breath, fliping the knife around in her hand. She held it tight in her fist, letting it hover above her abdomen. Elijah's gaze dropped to where the knife hovered. Oddly, he was still smiling. He still didn't believe her.
She took another deep breath, readying herself for the pain she knew was to come. She closed her eyes for a moment then opened them to stare straight at Elijah. She tightened her face as she plunged the blade in her gut. White hot pain overwhelmed her senses and for a moment she forgot what she was doing. She cried out in pain, bending over.
Elijah's jaw dropped as he shouted, "No!"
Boiling hot blood gushed from the wound as she held her ground. Elijah rushed forward, blocked by the barrier. She gasped as she pulled the blade out, holding her hand over the wound as Stefan had told her to. The kitchen knife clattered on the porch ground. All she had to do was wait for him to agree . . . then it would be over.
. . . but she didn't know if she could hold out much longer. Even with her hand over it, she was losing a lot of blood fast.
"Yes . . ." She'd barely heard it. "Yes you can have your deal!"
She felt like she was going to pass out. She groaned in pain. It hurt so much . . . "Let me heal you!" Elijah said.
"Give me your word!" She shouted desperately.
"I give you my word . . ." He finally said.
She panted, stumbling forward over the threshold. If she didn't have blood soon, it would be too late. She could feel the life slip away from her.
She lunged forward, making it look like she would collapse in his arms. But when he grabbed her she pulled the real dagger from up her sleeve and plunged it in his heart – leaving it there.
She heard him gasp and felt his body go limp. He dropped to the ground, his skin now faded gray.
Blood rushed even more quickly from her stomach and she sunk to the ground. Moments later Stefan was at her side, pushing his bleeding wrist against her mouth and holding the back of her head.
Warmth spread through her as she drank his blood, feeling the wound in her stomach slowly heal. When she let go she took a deep breath, letting Stefan hold her up.
She barely noticed as Damon stepped onto the porch. "Little tip . . . don't pull the dagger out . . ."
She collapsed into Stefan's arms and he stood, picking her up. She felt a rush as he sped them inside to the bedroom that used to be her parents and lay her on the bed.
He sped over to the door and closed it. "Stefan . . ." She panted, her head feeling heavy as she rested against the pillows.
He sped back over to her and unbuttoned her sweater, pushing it aside. Then he lifted her shirt to just below her bra. He sat down on the bed beside her and gently examined where the wound had been. It hadn't completely healed yet but it was looking better.
"How do you feel?" His voice was worried, staring back and forth between her eyes and the wound.
"It's healing," She said. "I can feel it." She took a deep breath, reaching for his hand. She held on to it tight. "I'm okay. We did it. Elijah's dead."
The door opened and Elena jumped. Stefan rolled his eyes, turning toward the door. "Damon, out."
"We should really get back to Mystic Falls," Damon said.
Stefan moved so Damon couldn't see Elena's exposed skin. Elena's hand let go of his and rested on Stefan's thigh.
"Give us minute," Elena said. "Please, Damon."
Damon nodded, ducking out of the room. Stefan turned back to her. "Will you be okay on the way home? Or do you want to spend another night here and go back to Mystic Falls tomorrow?"
She took a deep breath, reaching for his hand again. "No, I'll be okay. Besides, we have school in the morning. It's been way too long since we've gone."
He chuckled, "Probably, yeah."
"But . . . let Damon drive home," She said. "I need you in the backseat with me."
He nodded, "Okay. I'll pack our things, you sleep for a bit. I'll wake you when we're set to go."
He leaned over, kissing her softly on the lips. He pulled down her shirt and buttoned her sweater, pulling the blanket at the end of the bed over her. Her eyes became heavy and she was asleep even before he stood up and left the room.
TVDTVDTVDTVDTVDTVD
When she awoke, she found herself in Stefan's arms. The road was a blur . . . they were already in the car. Stefan was stroking her hair and she smiled. Stefan looked down. "Hi." He said. "Have a nice nap?"
"I still feel a little groggy," Her voice felt scratchy.
"That's what happens when you stab yourself and drink your boyfriend's blood," Damon spoke from the driver's seat.
She ignored Damon's words. Her whole body ached horribly. She adjusted, resting against Stefan's chest. Then the car pulled into the Boarding House driveway.
Stefan and Damon got out and went to the trunk. Elena crawled slowly out of the car, her stomach hurting worse than any cramps she'd ever had. She clutched it as she slowly followed Stefan and Damon inside as they carried Elijah's dead body. She continued to follow them down to the basement where they dropped Elijah down on the ground.
Stefan wrapped his arm around her and she leaned into him.
Damon reached into Elijah's pocket. "What have we got here?" He pulled out a familiar white rock. "Our little moonstone bar of soap . . . I'll hold onto this."
"So . . . that's it?" Elena looked to Stefan. "I mean, as long as we keep the dagger in there . . . then he stays dead."
"Pretty much," Damon said.
"Okay then" She nodded. She turned to Stefan, giving him one of the nonverbal looks they'd developed between the too of them. He nodded. "Good night, then." Then she turned, "You know, you guys want me to fight? Fine. I'll fight. But if we're gonna do this you can't keep anything from me anymore. From this moment on, we're doing it my way."
"Seems fair," Damon shrugged, nodding.
She looked to Stefan for his confirmation and he too nodded. "Okay."
"Okay," She turned, headed upstairs to Stefan's room. Her stomach hurt, her clothes were covered in blood, and she was physically and mentally exhausted. Before she had even reached the stairs, Stefan was at her side. His hands rested on her waist, guiding her, as she went up the stairs. As they crossed through the living room, he held on to one of her hands. They continued up the other stairs to his room. He closed the door behind them and she walked over to the bed. She sank down on the bed, sitting. She started to unbutton her sweater, but her fingers wouldn't cooperate.
Stefan sat down next to her, gently pushing her arms down before he himself unbuttoned her sweater and peeled it off of her. She sat there, lethargic and with heavy-feeling limbs, as he continued to peel off her shirt, pants, shoes, and socks. He was careful not to jostle her too much so as not to irritate the small wound still on her stomach. He reached over to end of the bed and grabbed the shirt of his that she often wore. He slid it over her head and pulled her arms out of the sleeves.
"You're not as healed as you should be," He said quietly.
She nodded, "I think I went a little too far in." She took a deep breath, holding her stomach.
"You seem to still be in a lot of pain," Stefan noticed.
"Everything's aching," She told him.
"Maybe I should give you more blood, heal faster," He suggested. She nodded, sighing. He bit the inside of his wrist and with the other hand held her behind her back. She sucked the blood from the wound on his arm, letting go a few minutes later. She wiped her mouth, taking a deep breath. "Better?"
"Y-yeah . . ." She let out a breath. "Just tired. I'll feel better in the morning." Her eyes drooped. He nodded, pulling back the comforter and helping her crawl underneath before crawling in beside her. She leaned into his embrace and moments later was fast sleep.
The End.
So . . . that's the end. After this would pick up in the beginning of "Houseguest". What did you think? Did I portray Elena's thoughts well enough? I wasn't sure if it seemed realistic enough, especially the moment she decided to stop being such a martyr.
And yay . . . hiatus fever is almost over! :) I cannot wait until April 7. Know Thy Enemy looks like a good one. So does The Last Dance, actually. Can't wait :)