For disclaimer please see 1st chapter.
A/N: Thank you all so very much for sticking with me. Each time I get a notification that someone read this story or added it to the alerts or favorites, I get ridiculously excited. Sad as it is, but it totally makes my day.
Please feel free to keep that constructive criticism coming and I really hope you enjoy this. :)
~ Echoes of the Past --- Part III ~
*
"Let's get you out of these clothes."
Elena blinked at the vampire in front of her. A moment ago she had been pretty sure that the shock was every so slowly wearing off but clearly that couldn't be the case. She was imagining things. She had heard of hallucinations and quite surely this was an audio-cination. Whatever it was called.
Damon, the vampire in question, sighed and waved a hand in front of her face. "Elena? Anybody home?"
Elena pressed her lips together in disapproval and gave him a stern look. So much for acting compassionate for longer than half a minute. Of course she realized somewhere that she was being unfair – Damon had, after all, gotten his behind handed to him for her sake, but evidently there had been ulterior motives. Blatantly obvious ones, at that!
Damon, happily oblivious of her thoughts, merely shrugged and addressed her again, speaking slowly and clearly as if talking to a child. "I'm going to undress you now. Try not to...you know, behave yourself." He waggled his eyebrows in a gesture that should probably make sense to her but didn't. Knowing Damon, Elena figured it was probably something suggestive.
A sharp frown of disapproval appeared between her eyebrows. "I trust there's a reason you want me undressed." She replied in a carefully controlled voice. After all, from what she had witnessed earlier she knew very well that the chances she had at attacking a vampire and getting away alive were rather...limited. However, she'd discovered that with this particular vampire a certain disposition toward dry humor seemed to work rather well. "So?" Elena asked again. "Reason?"
"I've got several, actually." Damon replied, a smile that betrayed more than just a little relief, appearing on his face. "Would you like me to sort the reason by the most fun ones or by those which make the most sense?" He paused, thinking. "Let's go for fun." He decided and Elena sighed. She should have known.
"I want to know if that birthmark Stefan keeps going on about is really-"
Reason flew out of the window. Elena's eyes narrowed dangerously and before her mind had any chance to catch up with her body, the brunette had already flung herself forward, ready to slap Damon. However, still being winded from the fight and flight, Elena misjudged her own momentum and instead of hitting the annoying vampire in front of her, she stumbled forward – landing right in Damon's arms, her nose pressed against the cool skin of his neck. She could feel herself flush in embarrassment even while she heard (and felt) Damon laugh.
"I always knew you wanted to jump me." He said, looking impossibly pleased with himself. Elena scowled but didn't quite manage to put her heart into it.
She sighed, suddenly too tired to argue anymore. "You're insufferable."
"But pretty."
"And annoying."
"And dashing. Hunk of a man and all that."
Elena giggled before she could stop herself. "You're really very much in love with yourself, aren't you?"
He shrugged again. "Someone has to be."
And just like that, the mood shifted again – from light and fun to something filled with a tension Elena didn't care (or dare) to analyze any further. Opting for ignorance for once Elena's head sunk against Damon's chest and for a moment she allowed herself the luxury of respite. Somehow, in his own strange and twisted way, she knew she was perfectly safe with him. He had a code of honor that seemed incomprehensible for anyone who wasn't Damon. Elena closed her eyes for a second, relaxing into his arms - too tired for the moment to bother feeling guilty about the fact that she was in the wrong brother's arms. That this one was the 'bad' one. The untrustworthy one who had nevertheless saved her life. And who smelled nicely doing so. Smiling gently, Elena snuggled closer to the safety of his embrace and drifted off into the curious state between sleep and wakefulness.
She wasn't sure how long they remained that way but some part of her knew it was both too long and far too short a time when she felt Damon getting restless.
"What's the matter?" She asked, reluctantly opening her eyes just the tiniest fraction. "A moment ago you were all eager to get me undressed and now you can't stand having me near you?"
A small appreciative chuckle answered her, but Damon's body grew increasingly tense by the second. "Your clothes are wet." He pulled away a fraction and Elena, forcing herself out of that pleasant drowsiness and back into the bleak reality, nodded.
"So are your." She sniffed. "And you're muddy and..." Elena froze, finally caught Damon's gaze and all of a sudden his reason for retreating became painfully apparent. The vampire's eyes had turned pitch-black and he kept staring at her jugular vein with an expression of undisguised hunger on his face. Elena's breath hitched and Damon involuntarily licked his lips as he watched her vein follow the movement underneath her skin.
"Go and get some dry clothes on." Damon rasped out and this time his voice sounded like holding himself back caused him physical pain. "Just go." He was almost begging now – a sound Elena had never heard from him before.
"How much blood did you lose?" She asked in a surprisingly calm voice and attempted to move back. And stopped. "Also, you need to let me go."
Damon blinked in surprise, then realized that he still had his arms around her. "Yeah, I should." He agreed and made no move to release her.
"Damon." There was a slight edge of panic to her voice now. Just how much control did a vampire have over their blood-lust, anyway? In particular, just how much control did Damon have? "Let go."
He didn't seem to hear her and with startling clarity Elena realized that this time she just might be out of luck. Damon looked more worn than she had ever seen him before. His skin was ice-cold and now that she knew what to look for, it was painfully apparent that he had been fighting his hunger ever since they had gotten back to the Salvatore Boarding House. Her heartbeat sped up and curiously enough Elena wasn't entirely sure whether it was because she knew that there was no way around getting bitten by a ravenous vampire or due to the vampire's intense stare. Involuntarily, Elena flushed, then reached a decision. If she was going to turn into a snack, then she'd do it on her terms. She raised her chin a fraction and – though utterly terrified – twirled her long, wet hair around her hand and offered her neck.
"Try to..." She found her throat too dry to speak and cleared it nervously, feeling Damon's stare on her like a physical caress. "Perhaps you could restrain yourself and not..kill me." The final words came out as a whisper as fear threatened to overcome the brunette. However, stubborn to the very end, Elena remained determined to see this through and – with a trembling hand – reached out to cup Damon's cheek in her hand. She could feel the slight stubble under her fingers and irrationally couldn't help thinking that it would have been nicer if he'd shaved before biting her. She could feel hysterical laughter bubbling up inside and gave him a shaky smile.
"I'm not a victim. I'm doing this because I want to." It seemed very important to point that out. Elena raised her chin a bit more – an open invitation to the starving vampire. Damon's breath was on her neck a moment later and Elena shivered as the fine hair as the back of her neck rose in response to the close proximity. His lips grazed her skin and a shuddering breath escaped her. Perhaps this really wasn't going to be so bad, after all, she thought.
~*~
And then everything exploded into movement. She felt something impact with her shoulders and a sharp pain on her neck and the world started spinning until it came to a sudden halt when her back hit the wall just as someone cried out her name. The room was filled with the sound of breaking things, moans and grunts and growls broke the silence, followed by crashes as something large and heavy collided with the floor. Elena's survival instincts re-awakened and she made her escape behind the couch she previously sat on, intent on getting some distance between herself and whatever was happening there. Truth be told, this was a far from what she had expected as it could possibly get. Elena determinedly fought down the panic that threatened to overwhelm her. She raised a hand reflexively to touch her neck even while her brain tried to catch up with what her senses told her. Damon hadn't bitten her. His teeth had barely grazed her skin before he had shoved her away. Elena blinked as realization hit her. Damon hadn't bitten her. He'd kept protecting her even now that -
"You...YOU...!"
Elena felt her blood run cold as she recognized the voice and – once again ignoring the consequences – she found herself interfering with two irate vampires for the second time in less than four hours. "Stefan!" She yelled, surprised at the panic in her voice. "Let him go!"
Her boyfriend didn't react, his attention fixed on his big brother. Both Salvatore men looked terrifying with their elongated canines, their pale skin and the sheer wildness on their faces.
Stefan, too angry to marvel at the unexpected ease with which he had overpowered Damon, had his elbow pressed to his brother's throat and bared his fangs in a threatening gesture.
"Make one mistake." Stefan growled. "Just one and I swear I'll kill you."
Damon, evidently weakened, snorted. "What? I'd be even more dead than dead?"
A barely human-sounding growl escaped the younger brother and though Damon tired to fight Stefan's grip, it was only too obvious that he had lost too much blood to have the slightest chance. Elena's heart started racing.
"Stefan! Stop it!" She yelled but found herself being ignored again. Stefan raised his arm and Elena wasted to time attempting to understand what he planned to do. She grabbed the thing closest to her - a nice, antique-looking chair – and charged.
Now in the films she had seen this move was almost always a guarantee for success. The heroine hit the adversary with the chair, the chair broke and the day was saved. Unfortunately, this wasn't remotely how it worked for Elena. She charged, silently prayed that neither brother would get too hurt by this (though, technically this really couldn't Stefan, could it? Just distract him for a second?), raised the chair and brought it down on Stefan's back with all her strength. Except that Stefan turned and caught the chair's leg in his hand long before there was any chance of it impacting on his back. Instead the chair remained in one piece and a mighty jolt went through Elena's arms. She let go with a startled yelp and it was her cry of distress rather than the chair that really caught Stefan's attention. He turned around to the sound of her voice, concern evident on his face.
"Elen..aaA?!" He asked and the next moment he felt his legs being kicked away underneath him. Stefan hit the floor right next to Damon and the fight would have resumed immediately if it hadn't been for the fact that both brothers started yelling the same thing at the same time.
"Don't hurt her!"
Both men froze at the accusation and Elena used that moment of silence to make herself heard.
"Stop it, you...you stupid vampires." She was seething with anger and yet, the sheer ridiculousness of the situation wasn't lost on her and she started smiling. It really wasn't her intention and Elena was perfectly clear about the fact that this was far from a healthy reaction to the things she had witnessed that day but she just couldn't help herself. She pressed her hands to her mouth to keep the laughter from coming out but it was in vain. A small giggle escaped her, then another one and soon the laughter came unchecked as she doubled over and joined the momentarily speechless brothers on the floor. A blink of an eye later, Stefan put his arms protectively around Elena and rocked her like a child while tears of mirth streamed down her face.
"Great. Now you've driven her insane." He snarled at Damon who had finally managed to prop himself up on his elbows.
"She wasn't like that when she was still in my arms." Damon observed smugly.
"No, she was about to die when she was in your arms." Stefan spat back and pulled Elena closer who was having none of it, though.
"Boys, 'she' is right here." Elena gasped as the laughter finally subsided. Stefan's hand was in her hair, stroking it gently. Elena wasn't sure but she thought she'd heard Damon making gagging noises in the background. She settled into Stefan's arms and sighed. At times it seemed like both brothers had the emotional maturity of three year olds shrieking for their favorite toy. Time to get things back on track.
"Look, there was an attack." Elena addressed Stefan whose eyes narrowed dangerously.
"That much is obvious." He said, then fixed his glare on Damon. "I suggest you leave right now. You've done enough damage. First that poor cheerleader and now Elena." Stefan paused, struggling to get a grip on his anger. "Isn't one death in one day enough for you?"
Damon looked honestly surprised. "But I haven't killed anyone!" He protested and struggled into a sitting position, before shrugging nonchalantly. "Well, not today, anyway."
"The bite marks on the girl were fresh, Damon." Stefan rolled his eyes. "Or are you implying she bit herself?"
"I'm implying that you wouldn't have been able to beat me if I had been properly fed. Or did your righteousness affect your eyesight?" Swaying, Damon managed to get up and shrugged out of his ruined jacket. "See you around, Buffy." He winked at Elena who watched him with a frown.
"Where are you going?" She asked before she could stop herself. "We need to-"
"I need some blood."
Elena gulped and nodded, recalling the moments just before Stefan burst in to save her. "Try not to..." She shuddered. "Keep away from humans." Elena whispered, holding Damon's gaze, who snorted in response.
"You can go ahead and domesticate my baby brother. But that won't work with me." Damon turned around and left while Stefan raised an eyebrow inquiringly at Elena.
"Care to enlighten me what just happened?"
And with a sigh, Elena did.
~*~
"Grams?" Bonnie flung her bag into a corner with practiced ease and closed the door. "Grams, I'm home. You know, in case you're expecting someone else to come in here and call you 'Grams'." She added in an undertone as she shrugged out of her jacket.
Having thus discarded her baggage, Bonnie toed off her shoes and proceeded into the house. This was weird, she thought. Grams had expected her to come – not this early, that was true – but they'd made one of their infamous baking appointments that both of them cherished much more than they'd ever admit. Bonnie turned around and peered into the living room. Nothing.
"Graaaams?" Still nothing. The lights were on and so was the television. And the radio. And the radio in the bathroom. Bonnie frowned. It was way too loud in here and too bright. She went into the living room, found it empty save for some newspaper clippings on the table, then went on.
"Grams? Come on, this isn't funny." She had a bad feeling about this and lately Bonnie had learned to fear her bad feelings. Her heart started racing in fear and she felt her palms get sweaty. Bonnie licked her lips nervously and opened each door but there was no sight of her grandmother. A small, terrified whimper escaped her lips and that almost made her miss the sound. There was the steady sound of scratching. Something scratching against wood, only audible every now and then when the reporter on tv made a pause. Scratch. Scratch.
Bonnie closed her eyes, focusing on her sense of hearing. Left. It came from the left. From the..."Kitchen!"
She sped off, completely heedless of the danger she might run right into and burst into the kitchen. "Grams!"
There she was. Sitting at the table in front of a cup of coffee, scribbling away furiously on a piece of paper. Bonnie closed the space between herself and her grandmother and gently shook the older woman. No reaction. Bonnie shook her head in blatant disbelief at her grandmother's blank stare and nudged her again.
"Grams. Say something." Bonnie begged. "You're scaring me. Snap out of it. Please."
But to no avail. The stare remained vacant and the hand kept writing. In fact, now that Bonnie got a better look at the piece of paper, she realized that her grandmother had pressed down on it so roughly while writing, that it was torn and completely impossible to read.
Bonnie felt her eyes cloud up but, curiously enough, at the same time she felt herself grow very calm. It was up to her this time. This time she had to take care of her grandmother instead of the other way around and this curious state she found her Grams in smelled far too much of witchcraft for her liking.
Bonnie set her jaw into a stubborn line (never realizing just how much she resembled her grandmother in that moment), then gently took the older woman's hand.
"What is it that you want to tell me, Grams?" She asked softly, not quite sure what to expect. And indeed, nothing happened. The scribbling continued and Bonnie bit her bottom lip. She should call Stefan. Perhaps he had found Elena. Perhaps he had an answer?
Bonnie turned around and reached for the telephone. And that was when it happened: a loud snapping sound announced the breaking of the pen and the scribbling stopped. Instead, her grandmother finally spoke.
"They're here. They're here. They're here."
Bonnie dropped the phone.
*
