Chapter 4: Approximate
Elena was standing in the hallway in front of the closed door of Stefan's room, pondering on the fact that it was shut. Stefan never closed it when he left, he didn't see the point and now that Katherine was taking him to the Salvatore's tomb, the room probably looked like he had last left it. Yet someone took the trouble to pull it over. Elena supposed it was Damon and she felt the exact same way. It could be years before she could cope going into that room. Her thoughts turned to the other Salvatore, her gaze followed too, towards the equally closed door of Damon's room. As if pulled on string, her legs took her into that direction, they needed each other more than ever. She pushed the handle down quietly and peered through to find Damon lying on his side on the bed with his back turned to her. Elena stalked in, doubting he was asleep, but not wanting to disturb him if he was trying to get his energy back. Gently, she lay down next to him, turning the same way and putting an arm round his upper body. The older vampire didn't react in any way and Elena realised, it was making her more and more uncomfortable with every passing moment. So much has happened, she didn't have time to process any of it, probably not much at all since Stefan came back to Mystic Falls with Klaus. It was all so confusing, it would also probably take years to find out how she really felt about it all. One thing was sure, that there was a vast emptiness in her chest, one that she knew only Damon's voice, touch or understanding could make better. But Damon himself had his extrafair share of grief, brokenheartedness and pain. He had to be her rock, she needed to know he still was. "Damon?" She whispered, rubbing his arm clutched at his chest. "Have your insides healed?" She started with the easiest question.
Damon took a deep breath, as if raising from the bottom of an abysmal pit, "I'm not sure, Elena."
"How can you be not sure?" The girl sat up, feeling very implicated, "you should be able to know, right? If it hurts."
He turned round quickly, startling her, "because I don't know how much of it is physical! Please tell me you don't want me to shut it all off. To not go and savage the world and not care," he begged, voice wavering, eyes bloodshot despite his ability to heal quickly.
Elena gulped, stupefied. What if he couldn't be her rock? "You promised me you'd never leave me," she grabbed his hand in desperation, "the loss is both ours. We should deal with it together."
Damon pulled back, distancing himself, "I don't know if I can. Together, what does that even mean? I will always be your second choice now, don't you see?"
"I was never happy to make those choices, you know that," Elena stated morosely, but urgently, seeing that he'd climbed out of bed and had grabbed his shoes, "where are you going?"
The dark haired vampire shook his head, "I can't think about this right now Elena. My brother is dead and I don't want to rely on Katherine to sort everything for me."
"Damon, no, at least wait till you're sure you're healed all right," she blurred in front of him. There was a fear at the root of her actions. What if Damon went off with Katherine after going to meet her?
"The issue won't wait, will it?" He pointed out.
"Right. I'm coming with you," she called, despite having promised herself that she will not look at Stefan's body again for the heartache it would cause. "And I'm going to get the car keys while you go down the basement for some blood to make sure you're better. Then I'll drive," she asserted, choosing to take some control over the situation.
Damon halted to bring his palm up to her cheek, looking into her eyes sorrowfully, but with the tenderness that characterised his feelings towards her. He could never resist her doe eyes, her plaintive look, the features that were so Katherine, but not quite. His throat constricted with unreleased emotion, but he didn't take pain as a sign to part, he's always been strangely masochistic that way. The consummate tenderness in his eyes was infatuating and Elena's mouth fell open in pure admiration. How could he elicit these goose bumps she had all over her flesh with just a feather-light touch? She drew closer, her hands resting on his hard chest, letting herself fall into him till he wrapped a hand around her lower back in fear she'd fall.
Then she looked up so she could meet his lips gently, but stormily, holding onto him tightly as if never wanting to let go. It wasn't the time, as they were both acutely aware by the ache in their souls that bereavement left. They parted reluctantly, but their strong pull towards each other remained. He closed his eyes, relishing her closeness, her breath of his skin, her hair tickling him slightly and the consolation of the moment.
"I'm not ready for this," Elena whispered, "I'm not ready to see him being put in a casket."
"It needs to be done," he took her hand with trembling hands and led her out the room.
Tbc
