A/N: I'm alive. I'm breathing. Hope I didn't give you a heart attack.
While You Were Sleeping:
Savior
The cold surface of the window relieved the burning in her head as she leaned against it, not giving a damn as to who had sneezed or rubbed their germy hands on it. Every ounce of energy she had was sucked out of her from the moment her toes hit the wooden floor of her apartment.
Today was not her day, she mused as she watched the buildings flit by, seemingly a figment of her imagination as they were there for one split second before passing her by. Like everyone in her life. Except for Boss and Matt, sadly. Oh, and her cat. She could never forget her cat.
But even then, in years to come, they too will fade from her life. On to better, bigger adventures, or to death in her cat's case. The inevitable would inevitably occur, and there was not a single thing she could do to stop it. This really pissed her off.
She was one to have every day planned out at the very least two days in advance. Go to work, suck up to Boss, go home, surf Netflix, sleep. Life was simple and sweet. More like dull, she thought with a scoff.
The woman in the row opposite her shot her a glance, the New York Times in hand. Elena gave a slight smirk to show her that she was fine, and sane, before the woman slightly shook her head and continued reading.
She did not understand people. Being an introvert from an early age, she kept herself cooped-up in her shell, hoping that her sanity would not self-destruct whenever one of her crushes so much as looked at her. She was the kind that would—
Her head was pounding, a pulse beating in her temples. She groaned and leaned further into the window, making sure her burning cheek was flat against it. Honestly, she should have stayed home, but being the ever faithful employee, she decided to suck it up and pop a few aspirins.
She heard a voice come over the speakers, announcing their arrival. With a groan, she slipped on her jacket and stood, making her way to the doors where a crowd had grown. Once the doors opened, she followed the group out and onto the platform.
What a day.
His lips had touched hers and she felt every nerve in her body co—
"Elena?" She felt a finger poke her shoulder.
Her head shot up, colliding with the head above her. They both groaned and gripped their heads. She was about to give the person a few choice words before her eyes met the green pair above. She stuttered, "Oh my…I'm so sorry…I-I don't know how…I don't even remember—Oh God." Her eyes went wide, realizing that the lack of sleep due to the migraine would most likely cause her to be fired.
He leaned a hip against her desk, arms crossed, "Do you realize what time it is," He seemed to have to think, "Miss Gilbert?"
She panicked and spun to check the small clock on her desk. The hands read 7:12. Mentally screaming, she immediately stood, "I'm so sorry, I-I'll prep the room right now-" She attempted to maneuver around him, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her.
He stepped in front of her, eyes stone, "Please, sit," He gestured towards her chair, "Miss Gilbert, it is evident that you are beyond exhausted. You've been like this for the past straight week," Once she was seated he leaned until eye-level, "Are you alright?"
She contemplated whether this was a test. She had heard once at the daily coffee room rumor mill that he had set up his past secretary with veiled questions that led to her being fired. Thinking of her future, she answered, "Of course."
His eyes narrowed, "El…Miss Gilbert, I really do not wish to have to see you forcing yourself to work through pure exhaustion. Take a double lunch break, rest, and call me."
She couldn't stop the teenager inside of her from squealing when he said 'call me.' "Call you?"
He smirked, "To tell me if you'll be physically able to help with the Deblovsky case."
She nodded, the excitement in her dying, "Will do."
He winked before disappearing into his office. Her heart pounded in her chest, trying with all its might to break free from the confining ribs and hug that man to death.
After ensuring that a temp would prep the room for the scheduled client, Elena headed home and rested. She awoke an hour and a half later, the migraine dulled to faded throbs. Picking up her cellphone, she dialed the office number she knew by heart.
"Stefan Salvatore." His voice was like velvet.
She cleared her throat, "Boss, I'll be able to come to the office."
There was a pause before he answered, "You're not lying, now are you?"
"No, sir."
She could hear the arrogant smirk as he said, "Good. Come in 15."
The brisk air brushed against her cheeks, sending a shiver cascading down her spine. A night like this, the full moon basking her olive skin with its pure light, the city alive and kicking, people crawling in every corner, deserved a cinematic presence. It was absolutely breath-taking how real this city was.
Her heels clicked against the cement as she walked to the platform. She pulled her jacket tighter around her frame in a vain attempt to keep the cold out. Hopefully Stefan didn't make another surprise appearance on the train. She definitely would have a heart attack this time around.
The platform was dead, save for a few souls scattered along the line. She kept to herself, arms wrapped firmly against her jacket. She had heard on the news about the recent muggings at the train stations, and she sure as hell was not a defensive person.
Her eyes traveled down to the end of the platform to her right, seeing a man reading a newspaper, jacket in hand. She scoffed at how men would never get cold while she freezes if the thermometer dropped a degree below 60.
Keeping her eye on the distant man, she could hear the horn of the train not too far off. Her eyes darted to a shadowy part of the station where a pillar stood. She could have sworn she saw a person. Shaking it off, she continued watching for the train.
She caught another flash of movement. Still nothing but the newspaper man and the shadows. Thoroughly creeped out, she shuffled a bit further away, but close enough so that if the man needed help, she could provide it. She may be frightened, but she still has a heart.
She scanned the area to see where the other people were. Two women sat on a bench on the far left, chatting. A man was leaning against the pillar behind her, scrolling through his phone. She couldn't find the security guard supposed to be on duty, anywhere. She puffed out a cloud of mist.
There. Another movement, this time closer to the man.
She heard the horn of the train blast once again. Before she could blink, a shadowy figure jumped out from the darkness, and attempted to grab the man's wallet from his back pocket. The newspaper man fought back, grabbing the person's hand with the wallet.
A tug war broke out. Elena stood paralyzed, not knowing what to do. She had never witnessed any kind of theft. She had to admit, it was kind of exhilarating.
After the man started to yell for help, the shadowy figure growled and yanked the wallet from his hands. The train blew its horn, catching the man off-guard. Thoroughly pissed, the figure kicked the man, sending him flying onto the tracks and knocking him unconscious, before taking off.
Elena snapped out of her mental paralysis. She turned to the other people and screamed, "Help! Someone!" The people snapped their heads up, but seemed utterly perplexed as to what she wanted them to do.
The train's horn blew once more. This time, she could spot the lights just ahead. In a state of panic, she rushed towards the edge, and jumped down. The darkness in the pit below did not help, and she was left to feeling around for his head.
She looked up to find the train coming closer. Realizing that she would not have enough time to get them both off of the tracks, she made a split decision.
Her fingers sought out his head, and having found it lying on the rail, carefully and quickly dragged it so he was lying on the ground in-between. Ensuring that he was within the rails, she laid her body flat on top of his and prayed.
"Good morning, Elena." A soft voice called out to her.
She cracked her eyes open, immediately regretting having done so as soon as a sharp and sudden pain filled her temples. Her hands flew up to cradle her head.
The woman apologized and said, "I'm sorry, dear. You must be in a heap of pain. Lemme get Doctor Davis." The sound of the door opening and closing was heard before Elena calmed her breathing.
Doctor Davis. She must be in a hospital. What happened?
It was nearly ten minutes before the door opened once more, and another voice spoke, this time male, "Elena, I'm Doctor Davis," She opened her eyes and found the pain less excruciating, "Ah, I see you are having head pains."
She nodded.
"This is completely normal. You suffered a blow to the head, but it was nothing major. I will prescribe you some aspirin and have you on your way by this afternoon." He smiled as he jotted down some notes.
"Thank you."
He nodded, "No need to thank me. In fact, I hear that you're quite the hero yourself."
She attempted to tilt her head in confusion, and became suddenly aware that a neck brace was wrapped around her neck. Her eyes widened, "I thought you said it was nothing major?"
He frowned, "It wasn't. The brace is just for caution. We can't take any chances," He tore off the prescription and placed it in her folder, "Your friend, however didn't fare so well."
She gasped, "Oh god! He's dead!" She fought back the immediate tears that pooled in her eyes.
The doctor shook his head vehemently, "No, no, no. He's not dead. He took a severe blow to the head when he fell onto the tracks. He's in a coma."
This, however, made her feel worse. She could have stopped the shadowy figure before it escalated. She could have saved the man.
Having sensed that she needed some time alone, Doctor Davis turned and made his way towards the door. He was stopped when her voice cut through the silence, "What's his name?"
He stopped, slightly shocked that she didn't know. This woman was just placed even higher on his respect list. "His name is Stefan Salvatore."