"Here's what is going to happen. I read your journals. I know Lexi left you here to sober up by yourself but that doesn't work for me. So, I'm going to help you and then we're going home. However long it takes. Got it?"
3 days later, the blood is out of his system.
5 days later, the depression is upon him.
10 days later, he breaks down.
12 days later, he hugs her back.
The next few days between them is tenuous at best and awkward at worst. It seemed that they had come to some sort of agreement that Stefan would attempt to heal and Elena would be there to encourage him—maybe not always up close, maybe at a distance, and for now, without touching him, but at least whether or not she would stay on the island with him was no longer a point of debate.
The days went on and a routine had even been put into place. They would wake early and after breakfast, go to separate places in the house and write in their journals. At some point in the day one of them (usually Elena) would find the other and they'd sit together. Sometimes they talked about things. Stefan would tell her the history of the Amantani Islands. How the islanders, the Aimara, live as farmers and weavers. As he spoke, her heart would ache to touch him, to look in his eyes, to lean her forehead against his, but she knew he wasn't ready so she buried her need deep down and prayed that he'd thaw sooner than later.
While Stefan spent time alone trying to regather the parts of himself he lost, Elena needed a project to work on, something that could lead to a concrete, measurable goal. She needed something to help get her through the simultaneous loneliness and presence that being with Stefan presented for her. She set her gaze upon meeting people. Elena put her extra attention on meeting the islanders who delivered their food. Every day she sat by the opening of their adobe house and waited. As if under a spell, Elena would regularly fall asleep in her watch position just around the time their provisions were delivered. If she didn't fall asleep then it was inevitable that her mind would take her on a trip and she'd be so caught up in memories that she would never notice the old woman and man who dropped food off at her feet.
One night as she and Stefan sat near Lake Titicaca, feeling the chill in the air as they looked at the water and the stars and tried not to notice how romantic the setting felt or how much they longed for the other, she talked to him about her inability to meet the Amantani villagers.
"Things work differently here. They will allow you to meet them in time," he replied with as much sincerity as he could muster.
"I just want to say thank you for how they've helped us," Elena responded making the first eye contact with him she had all day.
"To them, they are repaying a debt that will last infinitely. There is no need to thank them."
"What do you mean a debt that lasts infinitely? How can that be?"
Stefan looks at her. "Because I'm immortal. And they believe they owe me."
"What? How? When? Was this in 1917?" Elena asks the need for clarity showing on her face.
Stefan only nods in response. This was a story that would be for later.
He looks out at the water and before he can catch himself, he's confiding in her. "I uh….I keep having nightmares. I play the day I left you and Damon in my head over and over again trying to figure out if there was a different way."
Elena looks at him and tries to conceal her excitement that he's talking to her about what is happening inside him. She had noticed how tightly he gripped her during sleep—the only time they could touch mostly due to their unconsciousness being unable to not touch—and how often he shot straight up in bed after a bad dream. Now that he was finally sharing his fears with her, she tried to burrow her heart in a safe place while allowing a little hope to flourish.
Still, she tried to measure her breathing and measure her response.
The best she could come up with is "And? Was there a different way?"
Stefan shook his head. "No. If I told you what I planned you would have never let me go alone which would have endangered you. If I walked out on Klaus's deal, assuming he would have even let me go-which I doubt-Damon would be dead. Klaus had more time to strategize, more time to plan based on how much he knew about me. There was nothing else I could do."
Elena listened to Stefan's rationale and involuntarily shivered at the idea of Damon dying. Once her brain shifted from Damon's near death to trying to find and rescue Stefan, she surprisingly hadn't given much thought to the eldest Salvatore. She was grateful that Katherine brought the antidote that saved him but when she thought about the price paid for it, she vacillated between fury and pride in and for Stefan.
And then she remembered that comment Katherine made about loving both of them, which shook her out of solace with Damon and put her squarely in panic mode for Stefan. She would never forget how Katherine's words shook her—not because what she said was true but because all the while she was caring for Damon, she hadn't allowed herself to really even considered the lengths Stefan would go to save his brother. There was definitely dissonance between her heart so completely trusting Stefan to do what he said he would and her mind not allowing her to think of the repercussions of his actions.
It never mattered how much time passed—she doubted she could forgive herself for taking so much for granted.
And there was the matter of the kiss. She would tell him about it once he made more strides in his recovery. She would. And she would just have to trust that he could forgive her for it.
Placing her thoughts back in the rigidly compartmentalized areas of her mind, she responded to his thoughts. "You're right, Stefan. There was nothing else you could have done. Your goal was to save your brother regardless of the price and for that, there was no alternative. I just—I wish," and she stopped mid-thought, her mind racing.
"You just wished what?" Stefan asked curiously watching her fidget.
She took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind so she could clearly explain herself.
"I just wish I had listened to what you told me more carefully. I just wish that when you said you were going to see Klaus on Damon's behalf that I had asked more questions. I wish that I would have forced you to take me with you. (sighs) You're not the only one who replays that day over and over again wanting to fix things Stefan. I should have been there with you. I should have fought with you. We should have come up with a plan for me to leave Damon with Alaric and come find you and help you. Then you wouldn't have had to suffer alone."
Elena's breath caught at that last thought. "That's the part that I will never forgive myself for. I left you there, struggling with your addiction and fighting for your brother all alone. I was with Damon but I should have been with you. When I think of what you went through that night, I…" and she trailed off trying to keep herself from crying.
"There was nothing you could have done differently. I sent you to Damon so you could help him. He needed you. I knew you'd be safer there than with me."
Elena considered his words and for the first time realized what he meant. She understood that he knew it was likely that he may not have returned to her or Damon.
The fury.
She pulled her hair behind her ears trying to get control of her anger. Rather than have it out with him at that moment, she opted to move away from him. Elena tried to take deep breaths but every time her mind flashed to the night in Damon's room, her fury burned anew.
Turning to look at him, "YOU needed me, Stefan. YOU. I thought we settled long ago that as much as I care about Damon—and I truly do—I love you. I thought you knew that I will always choose you. That regardless of how Damon feels about me, or how you believe he feels about me, that that has never changed the way I feel about you. I thought you knew that Stefan." The way she said his name made him look up at her but still said nothing.
"But you never understood that did you? Because if you understood that then why did you expect me to forget that I loved you and love Damon just because he was near death? I was worried for him and I wanted him to live because I believe that he can be a good person, same as you. But I DO NOT LOVE HIM, Stefan."
She felt her heart failing her as she became suddenly desperate for him to understand what she meant. "Do you believe me Stefan? Oh my God, I didn't call you or text you because I trusted that once you figured things out you would call me. I trusted that you could handle it. I was in such a hurry to get to Damon like you asked me to that I didn't stop and think how you would convince Klaus to give you the antidote. I never…I never thought. And now, here we are."
"I knew that I was willing to give my life for my brother. I knew that if I did that and he lived that he would take care of you and love you. That's what I knew. He's the only person in the world that I trust—rightly or wrongly. But I do. And I trust him with what I loved the most."
He doesn't have to state what that is. His admission sent her all the way over the ledge into reckless anger. "But that's the problem Stefan! We are a team. You and me. I need to protect you as much as you protect me. I needed to be there with you. But you had already settled that I wouldn't be yours any longer. Who's the martyr now Stefan? You may have lived 162 years but you still can't let someone love you just for you!"
She stomped off toward the adobe house still feeling stoic as the anger coursed through her veins and shielded her from the heartbreak she faced anew. Yet, the stoicism was temporary because little by little she felt her resilience fade with every new breath and allowed herself to consider that Stefan might never really truly believe her feelings for him were true.
Before she knew it, she felt his hand gently hover over her shoulder. Stefan was afraid to touch her at all. Afraid that he would be too weak to fight off the cravings for her blood. Afraid that she would see and know him at his weakest point.
"I believe you," is all he says.
"Then what is it? You don't trust me?"
"I don't…I…It's hard to explain."
"Listen to me Stefan. I am not a thing to be shared between you and your brother. I am not Katherine. I chose to be with you. But if you can't see our relationship as anything other than an extension of the relationship you have with your brother then we really are wasting time."
"You're right. It's just…sometimes I feel like I owe him so much for what I did to him. Especially happiness. I owe him that. So much that I..."'
"But I'm not your prize that you can throw in his direction to make yourself feel better Stefan. It doesn't work that way."
They were at an impasse. Elena turned to face him, Stefan's hand still in the air considering whether or not to allow himself the indulgence of touching her.
Elena takes the chance and slowly and carefully touches his face. It is the first time they consciously touch each other (not counting the times they've bounded up in each other during sleep) since Panama.
At the touch, Stefan's eyes close. Her hands felt soft against his skin. He had forgotten how her touch could calm him. Fighting against leaning into it, he forced himself to stay still.
Elena kept her eyes trained on his face and his reaction told her all she needed. "At the end of the day Stefan, no matter what we go through, this is what matters. This is why I could not let you go off into the darkness without a fight. I hope you'll be able to see that."
She willed herself to pull her hand away from his face. "I'm going to go find out what we're having for dinner," she said without enthusiasm or real interest. Walking away from him was something she could never get used to.
The next morning, Stefan, who for the first time since they had arrived on Amantani Island, slept in a different room than Elena to give them both space to think, woke early and sat by her bedside watching her sleep. Gazing at her carefully, he saw the fatigue that caused the dark circles under her eyes and the frown that never left her mouth as she slept. Before, Elena always had the most pleasant sleeping face. She even smiled. But now, she looked sad, worried and maybe even afraid. He also noticed how much thinner she was.
He looked at her hair and ached to move his fingers through it. Ached to smell her. To touch her. His resolve weakened with every moment.
As if she could read his thoughts, Elena stirred and the first thing she saw as she opened her eyes was Stefan, looking at her with that fight or flight panic in his eyes. Without thinking about it, she reached for his hand to calm him.
"It's okay, Stefan. Did you have a bad dream? What's wrong?" she asked, her alertness developing quicker and quicker with her worry.
He continued to look at her as if he were debating something in his mind. She tried to prepare herself for yet another round of him insisting that she leave the island.
"Would you mind getting dressed? I want to take you someplace."
Elena nodded at his request and quickly hopped out of bed and threw clothes on. She tied her hair in a high ponytail as she slid on her boots.
"Where are we going, Stefan?"
"Trust me?"
She gave him a small smile that spoke volumes. They walk out of the adobe house and down the beach to a small corner of their island. They walked to an isthmus of sorts that held a small boat that Stefan helped Elena into. Once he jumped onboard, he maneuvered himself to row.
He rowed while Elena looked at the beauty of the mountains on Amantani and the glorious blue waters of Lake Titicaca. She let her fingers touch the cold water and reveled in how wondrous this experience could be. Neither spoke to the other, both focused on their thoughts.
Stefan continued to row, allowing his mind to flash back to 1917 and how different he was compared to then. How alone and isolated he felt as compared to now when he had the woman he loved with him. A woman who refused to be anywhere else.
"Lexi had friends who had visited this island in the 1700s and told of its beauty and the kindness of its inhabitants. So after I did what I did to that village, as soon as she heard about it, she knocked me unconscious and we set sail for Peru. It took months for us to arrive and when we arrived in Puno, it took 3 hours more to get us to the adobe house. I was so angry at Lexi for dragging me off like she did. But she was older and stronger than me so it was pointless to fight. I had traveled some but never to a place as remote as this. Lexi stayed for two days and told me to get myself together or else she'd stake me for what I had done. I begged her not to leave me here alone but she did."
Listening intently and carefully so she could absorb and understand every single detail, Elena sat quietly and waited for him to continue.
"It was hell on earth at first. I-felt worse than dead for the first months. Just me and my thoughts and my guilt to keep me company. I wrote in my journals and tried to make it all make sense but…it just never came. Meanwhile the islanders were making sure I fed without me ever seeing them. Eventually, I settled down and tried to use the isolation as a way to deal with the demons that raged inside me. That took some months as well."
Pulling into a dock, Stefan anchored their little boat and helped Elena out and onto the stone steps. "After six months, I walked out of the adobe house and saw a boat waiting for me. I rowed and rowed until I got to the other side of the island. And that's when I found this." She was looking at him with her back turned the entire time so it wasn't until he turned her around that she saw the real beauty of the islands.
"Stefan, this is so beautiful."
He gave her a small smile. "This is the living side of the islands. Come on, I want to take you someplace."
"There's more?"
"You'll see."
They walked into the town and watched the village women gather their sheep and the children playing along the sidewalks. They walked in the direction of a steep hill, with men guiding their llamas and beautiful woven tapestries and fabrics lining the walkway of the stone road they followed. Higher and higher they climbed, occasionally meeting people along the way. The altitude shifted a bit too much for Elena, so Stefan had to carry her on his back for a good ways of the trip. Neither of them tried to think too much about this act although it meant everything to both of them.
And then he let her climb down when they reached their destination. "You'll want to walk through the arches yourself."
"Stefan, where are we?" Elena asked as her eyes took in the arid, hilly beauty of where she stood. A large stone house stood in the center but they were surrounded by mountains and the lake and the beauty made her lightheaded.
"Pachamama. The Andes goddess of fertility's temple," he replied with a smile in his voice.
He takes her hand (it was getting easier and easier to touch her) and walks her over to one of the lookout points close to the lake.
He looks at her. "I'll be right back." And before she knows it, he's disappeared and reappeared.
"I will never get used to that," she tells him as he returns to her with one of the beautiful blankets, two cups of coffee and some Peruvian doughnuts. He hands her the coffee and snacks as he lays the blanket on the ground for them to sit. She looks at him with a smile that he is convinced she only shows him.
"I could stay here forever. This is perfect, Stefan."
"I came here many times. She's the goddess of fertility but I never thought of it as just about producing children. I thought about it as the very center of life. I came here so that the goddess could make me alive. And she did. She did."
Elena just looked at him as he spoke and shared these small details of his life with her. She too had been looking for life—long before Stefan appeared at her school.
"That's what I want," she said in a whisper. "I want to be alive as well."
"Elena, you are more alive than most of the people I've ever met. And there's so much more to live out for you. That's why I wanted you to leave me here."
Elena shook her head. She began to start in again on her feelings for Stefan but she stopped herself. The truth was, she could say how she felt about him until she was blue in the face and it wouldn't be true to Stefan until he allowed it. Instead, she chose a different tactic: silence. She gently placed her hand on his shoulder and just sat with him. She looked off into the distance and her breath caught at how precious this moment was for her.
That she almost lost this man to the darkness; that she had found him just in time and brought him to this place where they could both heal—that she could touch him when almost two weeks before he had been so cruel to her and almost two weeks before that she didn't know if she'd see him again.
All of her emotions that she fought to control so she could stay strong for Stefan emerged and overwhelmed her. The tears came without her approval and the grief and relief and fear and hope all found their way out of the places she buried them. She held onto Stefan as she sobbed and cried and doubled over in emotional upheaval.
Stefan tried to be stoic and unmoved by Elena's breakdown. But his body overrided his mental wishes and something like muscle memory kicked in, bringing his arms around her and holding her. "Shhhh…it's okay. It's okay," he whispered into her hair, rocking her and trying to soothe her.
She didn't question the way she involuntarily clung to Stefan or the way she breathed him in. She didn't question how quickly she molded her body to his or comforted and at peace she felt when she moved into his lap and let him rock her.
It was only when she woke hours later that she realized what had happened between them. The gulf of distance between them had in a moment been destroyed and the connection between them was stronger than ever.
She knew it from the way his arms enveloped her as they lie together on the blanket. That was how they used to find themselves when they woke up in the mornings. Even on nights when they went to bed mad with each other, it never failed that at some point in the night they would move themselves into this position.
Stefan felt her body shift from sleep to wakefulness and sensed the serenity that surrounded them. Somewhere during the middle of her breakdown, fatigue had overwhelmed Elena to such a degree that she began to doze. Stefan moved her to a lying position on the blanket but she kept her hands around his, refusing to let go. Lying with her was his only option. But as soon as he did, as soon as he gave in, he felt more peace than he had in years.
And he felt like although he didn't deserve it and although there would be tough times still ahead for them, that the goddess heard their prayers.
After Elena's eyes opened and she felt the security of his arms around her, she knew that the goddess of fertility had answered her prayers.
Neither speaking, they watched the sunset—the most beautiful sunset from their perch on the hill of Pachamama. Elena never looked at Stefan as she grabbed his hands and kissed them and Stefan never said a word as he held her even tighter or breathed in her scent.
They felt alive again.
To Be Continued…