A/N- Just to avoid any confusion about the timeline, this chapter and the rest of the story until we reach present day with the funeral will be continuing on from the end of the last chapter, 2011. The only exceptions will be flashbacks which are made obvious with italics. x
Hearing the ring of a phone cutting through her dreams, Elena shifted under a threadbare motel sheet and grabbed the vibrating cell out from the side of her purse. She squinted against the glare of the screen and held the device up to her ear, dreading what would be the next drama to hit. No good came from calls in the middle of the night.
"Where are you 'Lena?" Her husband slurred from the other end of the line, his voice distorted both by alcohol and a bad connection. "I can't find you anywhere in this fucking mausoleum of a house."
Elena pinched the bridge of her nose, tightly enough, she hoped, to stave off the migraine that was about to be triggered by being woken up at two in the morning. "I'm in Virginia, Stefan. Remember?" The stale air of the room sent goosebumps up and down her arms, she'd been forced to freeze all night because she refused to put the provided top comforter anywhere near her skin. The stains covering it were ghastly legacies of the many previous occupants of the room. "I'm here getting the boarding house sold, you know this."
"Right, yeah of course."
She didn't really understand why she was even trying to carry on the conversation, pretending like it was normal her spouse was so lit he couldn't even remember she wasn't in the same state as him. There was no point in using reasoning when Stefan was like this, God knew she had enough experience of him in this condition to know better.
"I'll talk to you as soon as we have any progress." Elena promised, eager to just appease him and fall back into unconsciousness. When the melody of faint feminine laughter came out of the speaker, she quickly caught on to why exactly Stefan was so eager to know if she was in their home in the first place. It didn't hurt like the first time she'd discovered her husband had been unfaithful. Or the second time. Or the third. Now there was only an echo of a spasm of pain in her gut and a sense of ennui. "Well, i'll let you get back to your guest. Don't want to disappoint" she offered unemotionally and hung up.
Twisting the wedding band around her thin finger, she recalled a time when he would have had called straight back after he realized how badly he'd screwed up. Apparently, adultery didn't even rate a courtesy call anymore. It was even more difficult for Elena to remember a time when she would've cared about his failure to attempt a reconciliation. Unfortunately, her energy had run out tonight to raise even an ounce of annoyance. What was the point? He'd have forgotten their whole exchange by morning anyway, blissfully erased by his own special brand of self-medicating.
The Stefan Salvatore that had loyally followed her to Yale and then Chicago, the one she'd married, was but a vague memory now. He'd been so certain in their relationship, choosing his future solely with her in mind. They'd stayed away from Mystic Falls after high school, and after they'd both graduated college, she'd been so proud as he shot up the ranks in one of the most prestigious insurance firms in the city. Eventually finding himself the youngest partner in three decades.
Of course after the intoxicating peak came the inevitable fall.
His decline hit fast. It started with the gambling to cover the funds he'd lost in a succession of bad business decisions. Then Stefan had become so good with moving around money, that he managed to keep his failures hidden and his esteemed position in the firm unblemished. His partners and Chicago's elite none the wiser of any monetary discrepancies. But, the pressure of his deceit and the continuous threat of his house of cards falling down ushered in the drink with a side of heavy abuse of prescription medicine, and that little gambling problem soon became a full blown monkey on his back. Stefan's vices kept piling up until one day Elena could no longer recognize the man she'd married.
She'd tried to help at first, wrung herself out over and over again, pleading for him to go to rehab or to try and salvage their marriage. But deep down she knew better, she'd already lived through this with her father, knew that Stefan had a disease that would poison everyone around him and he wouldn't seek out help until he hit rock bottom. Obviously, she'd found herself on the cusp of leaving an immeasurable amount of times, even got so far as a suitcase in the trunk and down the road once. And every time something wouldn't let her go; that small, puzzle piece of herself deep down that hopelessly held onto a chance that everything would be okay again.
Now that piece had long since disappeared, as did the escape efforts, Elena just didn't have it in her to care enough to want to get out anymore. All her vivacity, zeal and faith had been drained, leaving her with only the cold comfort of being vitriolic as possible to all those she came in contact with. It took everything she had just to get up in the morning and put on the show for all of Chicago's key players. That was her only contribution to their marriage now, keeping Stefan's corruption and debauchery hidden and helping with the boarding house sale as a last ditch attempt to crawl out of the hole of debt they were in.
"God dammit," Elena cursed, scrabbling frantically with her hands at the cream bow that sat tightly knotted on top of the base of her spine. She took a shallow breath, fighting the white spots dancing in her vision and stuck her head into the hallway, pleading for anyone to walk by and come to her aide.
Well, anyone but him, she groaned as a lone figure came into view.
It was no use, Stefan's best man and brother would have to do. "Damon," Elena hissed at the dark headed male sauntering past her hotel room "Can you come in here for a sec?".
He wildly looked around to see if there was possibly another Damon in the vicinity she could have been talking to. Since that regrettable prom night years ago, they'd barely spoken more than a few sentences at a time to each other. On the rare occasion Damon would fly out to visit his brother, Elena made it her mission to avoid him. Taken aback that his soon to be sister-in-law was now outright addressing him, Damon hesitantly walked up to the cracked open door "Uh, sure?"
"I tied the ribbon too tight, and now I can't get it off," Elena confessed as he followed her in, struggling to keep her voice calm to play down her embarrassment. Only she would manage to get stuck trying on her wedding dress the night before her nuptials. Endeavoring not to wipe her sweating hands on the full lace and tulle skirt, she fidgeted against the boning in her corset that was digging into her sides.
Damon sidled up behind her, watching her face grow steadily paler in the gilded mirror that stood in front of them. "Hold on one minute." He followed the criss-crossing ribbon that ran all the way down the back of her bodice, finishing with an impossible knotted bow and tried to use his fumbling fingers to unsuccessfully pick at it.
"Oh God Damon, I can't fucking breathe" Elena gasped, forgetting any sense of decorum as the situation became urgent. Panicking, she twisted her hands awkwardly behind her trying to rip at the ribbon. Damon disappeared for a second and she wondered if he was just going to leave her here to suffocate. A beat later and he was back with a gleaming pair of scissors.
"Hold still will you?," he ordered, slicing the ribbon from top to bottom and pulling open the back of her dress. "Sorry about that," Damon apologized calmly, surveying the damage he'd done to her gown as Elena bent at the waist and sucked in deep gulps of oxygen. "I couldn't think of what else to do and you were about to turn blue."
Elena shook her head, the color returning to her face and stood up straight "It's fine, the seamstress will be able to just replace it with a new ribbon for tomorrow. Thank you."
The criticality of the situation now dissipated, the uncomfortable atmosphere between the two returned with full force. "Glad to be of service," Damon coughed, turning to leave "Good luck tomorrow."
"Yeah, i'll be the one in white" Elena joked weakly, suddenly tired of the animosity that still followed them from something that she had long since let go of. For the sake of Stefan's relationship with his brother, perhaps it was time to lay old ghosts to rest. "Damon," Elena initiated shyly "it really means a lot to Stefan that you could make it. To me as well."
Damon turned, shock flashing in his eyes before he fell into a joking tone "Well, I wasn't about to turn down the open bar you guys are putting on. Besides an invitation to the Salvatore-Gilbert wedding is like gold dust."
He was teasing, but it wasn't a lie. The joining of Stefan Salvatore, the bright new up-and-comer in Chicago's business world, to the pretty, fresh faced Ms. Gilbert had been the hot button discussion in society circles since the engagement had been announced.
"Oh don't," Elena blushed, not entirely comfortable about her brush with notoriety yet. "I would have been happy with a small wedding. Just family and friends, you know?"
Damon moved further into the room and settled onto the edge of a plush armchair in the corner, eyeing her with veiled curiosity "That does sound more like the Elena I knew once upon a time. However, the five foot tall ice sculptures that are the centerpieces on every table tell a different story."
Elena huffed and flounced down across from him, the skirt of her dress comically puffing up around her. "I know right? They're so ridiculous," she scoffed, eager to talk to someone who would understand how different the world she found herself in was from the one she grew up in. "Everything was all the wedding planner's idea. Stefan didn't want me stressing out over any details."
Sensing the girl he'd known since childhood was feeling a little out of her depth, Damon tried to lighten Elena's mood. "Hey, isn't it bad luck to wear the wedding dress before you actually get married or something?"
"No you doofus, that's only if the groom sees me in it."
Damon rolled his eyes and smirked "Excuse me for not being totally updated on Brides Monthly." Easily dodging Elena's light punch to the arm, he studied her pensively and felt the duty to have a talk with the girl who had held his brother's heart for longer then she perhaps even knew. "So," he begun lamely "This is for real, right? You love my brother and you'll treat him good?" Shit, that wasn't as eloquent as he'd hoped.
"Yes, you have my word." she assured, trying to hide a smile at his poorly disguised big brother act. The Salvatore siblings played a good game but you'd be stupid to try and come between them. And she did love Stefan, genuinely so. What had started with a foundation of friendship had evolved into a secure and comfortable love, one she could always count on. She felt safe in the knowledge that by choosing to marry Stefan, she had a good chance of always having a companion and backbone for the future. Besides, she was kind of partial to the whole childhood sweethearts shtick.
"It's just that when we last had a real conversation," Damon pushed, running a hand through his hair and unable to let the subject go quite yet. "Saying you weren't really into it is putting it mildly."
Elena bristled at the ambiguous reference to that night. "I was in high school, Damon" she rebuked gently. "That was a long time ago and I've learnt from a lot of my mistakes. We all grew up."
Expelling one short burst of laughter, Damon took a brief scan up the length of Elena's lithe figure "Ain't that the truth." He swiveled his shoulders and dropped his gaze to the floor "Speaking of mistakes, I probably owe you a long overdue apology for uh, well you know, how I treated you after prom."
"We don't have to tal-"
"No, I think we do." He faced her unblinkingly, and started to talk rapidly like he was finally saying things he'd wanted to voice for a while. "We've tried to ignore it, and it just kind of festers between us."
Elena nodded, biting the inside of her cheek "I guess you're right, I don't really know what to say about it though. It is what it is, an awkward memory."
"Look, I was a dumb punk who'd been a little infatuated with you for a long time and you were laying there in your cotton panties, looking like everything good and sweet in the world and for some unknown reason you decided I was worthy of being able to touch you. So I did what I always do when I don't know how to handle something, I fuck it up."
"I didn't know you felt like that about me."
He smirked "What, the way I was always teasing you and hanging around you and Stefan didn't give you a clue?". Waving his hand, he brushed his confession away "Whatever, it was all kids stuff. But I am sorry, and I know you swore to never forgive me-"
Interrupting to end his misery, Elena chuckled "Of course I do Damon. It's all in the past."
Damon sensed the conversation had gone as well as possible and had reached it's duration. He stood as Elena mirrored him and scratched the back of his neck "Well, I better let the blushing bride get her sleep. I'll see you tomorrow?"
Elena smiled an affirmative and at the last second before Damon could slip out of the door, caught the crook of his elbow. Without a concrete reason, she placed a whisper soft kiss on his cheekbone and drew back, head bowed.
Eyes locking, an echo of something familiar passed between them and then he was out of the door and the recollection was gone once again.
Sometimes Elena felt like laughing herself sick over how naive she'd been back then. Her unwavering and blind conviction in the institution of marriage, believing that it would always be a warm blanket to have throughout life. One by one the vows she had taken had been steadily broken. For richer or poorer? What wit. In sickness and in health? Hilarity ensues. Forsaking all others, keeping only unto her? The biggest joke of them yet. The only pledge left intact was until death do us part.
After the wedding, and before Stefan's destruction, Elena was thrown into a life she'd never imagined. Stefan was intent on giving her the world, making sure she would want for nothing and would be the perfect candidate to fit in with the other partners of the firm's wives. At first Elena was a little enamored with the whole ladies who lunch concept, in her inexperience she'd told herself she would enjoy the housewife bit for a while and stand behind her husband while putting her college degree to the side for the brief foreseeable future.
Soon, what had been previously fun, like playing a part in a movie, was suddenly her actual life. It had consumed her up until she could no longer recognize herself or any of her old dreams, and climbing the social ladder had become paramount. As Stefan disintegrated behind the curtain, she played her role as the dream wife in public to a tee. And while she perfected the blind eye, credit card bills that had been used to keep the pretense up and everyone around them in the dark, started coming out of their ears.
Now, she had no one to turn to. Her sham socialite friends who worshipped at her feet, would have her disinvited from every house by dinner if they got a whiff of what was really happening. Caroline and Bonnie were barely Christmas card list friends. For a brief while at the beginning of the marriage, Damon had come out for the holidays, until she supposed both her and Stefan became so insufferable even those visits fell to the wayside.
No longer able to keep her head in the sand as Stefan continued ruining their lives, in her desperation Elena took it upon herself to sell the last asset they had left. The boarding house.
Which is why the morning after her latest run in with the eldest Salvatore brother and her phone call with the youngest, she found herself waking up in the seediest motel this side of the Mississippi. One that really put a new meaning to the phrase rents by the hour and came complete with a complementary drug dealer on each floor.
Avoiding the huddled group of men with red-rimmed eyes at the bottom of the flight of stairs catcalling her, Elena hailed a cab to the soon to be auctioned off house. She allowed herself a second to take in the tudor styled exterior of the home that she'd spent the majority of her formative years in, before hardening her face and reaching forward to shake hands with the realtor.
"Mrs. Salvatore?" The lady questioned uncertainly, her red polyester blazer tailored too tightly around the shoulders and her fingernails wearing a matching garish fire-engine polish. "It's Stacy, we talked on the phone?"
"Yes, I remember." Elena pulled her cashmere wrap tighter around her arms in the early morning frost and attempted to keep her shoes from getting wet on the moist grass they stood on. "What exactly are we doing this morning? The faster all this is completed the better."
Stacy nodded anxiously "The sale should be pretty straight forward. Your husband has already sent over everything that needed his signature." The agent pulled a large For Sale sign out of the trunk of her car and walked back to where Elena was standing. "We'll just put this in the yard and the offers should start piling in." As she began to hammer the wooden post into the front garden, she spoke nervously over the noise "Of course there's just the matter of the tenant to be discussed."
"What the hell is going on out here" A voice boomed emphatically out from behind them. "Don't either of you move another muscle until I get down there."
"Speaking of" Elena muttered, turning just in time to get a glimpse of Damon retreating from one of the upstairs windows and pounding it shut. A few minutes later he was slamming out of the front door, his eyes fuzzy from the early hour. "Here we go" she breathed to the realtor as they watched the man storm across the dewy grass towards them, clad only in linen pajama pants and a thin white shirt. "Whatever he says, just keep in mind who owns this house."
Damon drew up in front of the two women, his eyes quickly surveying the newly installed sign "Oh no, there's no way." He faced his brother's wife and warned dangerously "Elena."
Taking in the heat of his gaze, Elena fought not to flinch under his stare. "We discussed this yesterday" she gritted out between her teeth.
"It's been in the family for decades, I grew up here. Stefan doesn't really want to sell this." Damon bitterly pleaded in one last attempt for sympathy. Seeing Elena's face unchanging, he looked towards the realtor and provided a full blown kilowatt smile. "And what might your name be sweetheart?"
"Stacy," she stammered, trying to keep hold of the file she had almost dropped. Unused to being hit with the Salvatore charm turned up to ten, she smiled back dazedly.
Damon smirked harder, placed one arm around her shoulders and suggested pleasantly "Well Stacy, you see there seems to be a bit of a conflict of interest here. Maybe you should pack up your little sign and Ms. Salvatore and I can get some things straightened out before you come back."
Elena scoffed loudly, butting in before Stacy could fall for his way with words. "Don't worry about him. Just continue with what you were doing and pretend he's not here. It's what I like to do."
Stacy swiveled her head between her warring client and tenant and tried to remember if she had any training for this type of situation. "I-um-I don't know. We could all come back-"
Seeing Damon's smug face enraged Elena even further then she had been since her first arrival and she moved in front of him to stop his imminent removal of the sign.
"Careful there queen bee, you're getting your extortionately priced shoes all ruined." Damon informed gleefully, watching as Elena's heels sunk into the damp soil.
Smiling so wide it hurt, Elena turned back towards the other woman "Stacy? You're free to go now if you want. I'll call later, don't worry the sign will stay in and everything will go according to plan." As they waited for the confused realtor to get into her car and drive away, Elena faced off with Damon "You think you can just flash your baby blues at her and get your way? Sorry buddy, not going to work."
"Baby blues, huh?" Damon questioned cheerfully. "Didn't know you were so charmed by these peepers little sis."
Choosing not to rise to the bait, Elena silently slipped off one of her shoes and without taking her eyes off Damon, used the stiletto heel to finish hammering in the sign. "Nice and deep," she enlightened, equally as brightly.
Damon's face fell. "This isn't over." he guaranteed, pointing a finger towards her. Shouting at her retreating back, he inquired harshly "Hey, where are you staying anyway? I went to Flower's Bed and Breakfast last night to try and talk you out of this shit and she had no trace of you."
Alarmed, Elena whirled back around with her cheeks flushed a high color "Not that it's any of your business but I'm at the Four Leaf Clover Motel off Route 27."
"Miss. High and Mighty herself is staying at the Four Leaf Clover?" Damon questioned disbelievingly, his eyebrows shooting up. Nobody stayed at that roach hotel unless they were desperate. Especially women like Elena Salvatore. Not to mention it was dangerous.
"Yes," Elena spluttered, indignant. "Unfortunately, it's not like Mystic Falls has a Four Seasons and the bed & breakfast had no vacancies. I didn't have a choice." She breathed a sigh of relief as Damon shot her a strange look but decided not to refute her statement.
Shaking his head blithely, Damon snarled "My brother has to be the biggest idiot on the planet sending you out here by yourself to do his dirty work. If you were my wife-." He let his thought trail off and a cruel smile graced his face "Don't tell me the model marriage is in trouble? Everything is all right in paradise on earth, isn't it?"
"Just perfect" Elena huffed, her lips disappearing into a non-exsistant line. "But thank you so much for your genuine concern."
Damon let her leave this time, trying to ignore the sway of her hips in her pencil skirt. "Whatever," he dismissed and promptly removed the sale sign as soon as she had driven out of view, yanking it viciously out of the ground.
One, two, three... Elena counted the tiny pink pills out into her hand. Twelve, there was always twelve. She rolled them around her palm, wondering, as she did every time she carried out this ritual, how such tiny, inconsequential things could end a human life. Last New Years, when she caught Stefan with another woman for the second time (the second of many) was when she'd first grabbed the prescription bottle she now held in her hand out of Stefan's ample stash. Back then, it hadn't even been a fully formed idea that she would ever consider taking them, but as she grew more jaded and kept drowning deeper into the black hole that was her life, she eventually found herself pouring them out into her small hand at regular intervals like an eccentric comfort, morbidly fascinated by the call of nothingness.
A knock sounded on the door and Elena jumped, quickly funneling the capsules back into their bottle. She had been stopped again, something was always there to stop her, she had to wonder if the day would eventually come when there wouldn't be.
"Jesus Christ, this is the last thing I need" Elena griped, looking through the peephole to see Damon on the other side. Maybe if she was quiet and pretended she wasn't in.
"C'mon Elena, I know you're in there. I don't have all night"
Oh, there went that plan. She removed the deadbolt and swung open the old wooden door, crossing her arms as she coldly greeted her guest "Now is really not the best time Damon. Can the chewing me out wait until tomorrow? It's pretty late."
Damon laughed derisively "I'm not here to yell at you. I'm here to take you the boarding house." He stayed staring at her expectantly as she blinked stupidly back at him.
Trying to collect herself, Elena shook her head "And why would you be doing that?"
"Because as much as I can't believe I'm doing this, it's not safe for you to be staying here alone and i'd prefer not to have that on my conscience." He sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes irately when she still made no move from the door, he'd have to try another tact to get her to listen "You wanna know how I knew the exact room to come to? Because your adorable, wholesome neighbors could direct me precisely to that "rich bitch's" room straight away." Pushing past her with no invitation, he started to open drawers, scooping out the contents and piling her clothes onto the bed while ignoring her loud protests. "You're in their radar and you're going to get burgled or worse. So snap snap, let's get to it before I have to drag you out myself."
Realizing Damon wasn't going to take no for an answer and frankly terrified to spend another night here, Elena followed his instructions, making sure her angry, under-the-breath mutters were audible enough for him to get the gist of them.
"You can stay with me until this whole fucking mess is solved."
Finally packed, Elena watched him pick up her two suitcases like they weighed nothing "Damon, why are you helping me? Especially after what Stefan and I are trying to do."
Damon looked at her piercingly, a faint suggestion of tenderness in the set of his jaw "Because I remember when Elena Salvatore was Elena Gilbert. Don't push it."
Elena followed him out of the door blindly into the night, almost awed that he was showing her a kindness she hadn't even considered giving him. Silently as they walked, she could feel a wisp-thin strand of warmth wind its way inside of her.
A/N- Thank you times a million for your response to the first chapter, I hope it will continue to hold your interest! Also, although Stefan in this story is far from being a nice person, I choose to think of how his numerous vices change him from a decent character to an asshole as somewhat of a mirror to how show!Stefan lets his addiction to blood affect him. Can't wait to hear all of your thoughts xox