Author's note: Howdy from New York! Quick side note before we get started. I've had a few questions about the movie Elena finished filming. Rose Under Fire is a real book (it's a related work to Code Name Verity). While I have no idea if it'll be made into a movie…it should be. I've "borrowed" the title (and a few mentions of the basic plot) because I think the idea of Elena starring in the movie really fits well into this story.

Warnings: Teen – mild alcohol use, Stefan, mild language, Tyler Lockwood


Damon leaned back in the armchair, drumming his fingers along the leather armrest. He'd been trying not to act bored for the last half hour. After checking his e-mail for a non-existent update from his agent, paging through a handful of notifications on Twitter, and skimming his Facebook feed, he'd run out of ways to amuse himself. Obviously, Stefan's definition of grabbing a few things from his office significantly differed from his own. Damon should have taken his own car. At least he wouldn't have been stuck here, then.

Stefan tossed one last manila folder into thick pile already his briefcase. How late was he planning on working tonight, anyway? Damon didn't exactly expect Stefan's everyday life to stop when he came into town to visit, but he'd only been back in Mystic Falls for a little over a week, and he'd gone long past bored and was steadily on the path toward stir crazy. He'd assumed Stefan had a reason for inviting him to come home for the holiday, so far it was just to stare at the walls and track the progress of an oversized spider building a web in the corner of his dad's office.

Stefan seemed to remember Damon was in the room. "Sorry. Shouldn't take too much longer. Just need to check one quick thing on my e-mail."

"No problem." Damon rocked forward in his seat. "Not like I really have anything else to do."

Stefan looked up from behind his desk. "You know there's always a job here for you if you want it."

So that was the reason he was back. Figures. If dad couldn't get him back in the family business before he died, then the task must have fallen to the dutiful member of the Salvatore family. Stefan was just wasting his breath. Damon shook his head. "I don't need a pity job from my little brother."

Stefan rolled back in his chair, looking back at Damon with a mildly surprised expression on his face. "It's not a pity job." He pointed to one of the numerous framed awards on the wall. "It's Salvatore Memorial for a reason. We've always worked here."

"Then the last thing I want to do is follow in Dad's footsteps."

Stefan laughed, an unusual shadow of irony lacing his voice. "And you think I do?"

"Of course. You always have. You're the perfect brother. Dad never overlooked an opportunity to point that out. You were always the good little soldier. Straight As. Nice girlfriend. Business degree. Everything that Dad always wanted."

"Keep telling yourself that." Stefan laughed even harder, shaking his head and rolling his eyes in Damon's direction. Once he composed himself, he tapped the top of the desk. "When you're ready, the offer's always on the table."

"No thanks." Damon stood, searching for a way to change the topic of conversation. He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned to study the cluster of photographs on the walls. Each contained a semi-famous member of the town and a child between the ages of toddler and pre-teen. Their names were written in script beneath the photo, bearing the year they were the children's hospital ambassadors. He recognized a handful, but more than one name was familiar for an unpleasant reason—those he recognized from being etched on a gravestone in the Mystic Falls cemetery.

"Klaus said something today."

Stefan's eyebrows shot up in response. The teasing tone from earlier had vanished from his reply. "Klaus says a lot of things. Care to be more specific?"

"He asked why Brenna wasn't there for the pictures, and Elena said she had a cough. Brenna has to be feeling alright for Friday night…."

"Is she okay?" Stefan interrupted.

"I think so. But why is she going to be at the ball on Friday? I didn't know kids were invited." A lot of things had changed during his absence from Mystic Falls, but he couldn't see Carol Lockwood allowing that type of a change while she was in command of the festivities.

Stefan stood, zipping his bag closed. "She's kind of expected to be there since Brenna's going to be next year's ambassador."

Damon gestured toward the pictures. He'd never paid too much attention to the ins and outs of running the hospital, but the requirements to be the ambassador stuck in his head after receiving a lecture when he was seven when he threw a fit because he was convinced that he'd make the perfect ambassador. His father gave him a talking to that he'd never forgotten. "I thought they had to be former patients…"

Stefan's forehead furrowed, and he pursed his lips. "Come take a walk with me."

They walked out of the administrative wing and turned into a hallway leading to the bank of elevators in the central section of the hospital. Stefan pressed the up button and waited without saying a word to clue Damon into why this was part of the answer to his question. An empty car arrived, and Stefan already had his access card ready. He pressed the button for the fifth floor and scanned his ID.

"Where are we going?"

"It's easier to show you." Stefan glanced over his shoulder. "And this way I'm not breaking any promises."

The doors hissed open, and Damon found himself in the most brightly decorated area of the hospital he'd ever seen. "What floor is this?"

"Pediatric oncology." Stefan led the way through a large waiting area and into another series of hallways, stopping in front of a collection of black and white photographs.

These were similar to the pictures in Stefan's office, but they weren't exactly the same. Each contained a young child interacting with a friend of a family member. Damon froze in front of the one on the far right.

Brenna….and Elena.

Brenna lay nestled in the crook of Elena's arm. Elena appeared to be in the middle of reading some type of picture book. Brenna's eyes were half-closed, but a hint of a smile played at the corner of her mouth.

"They found out about the leukemia when Jenna was on bedrest with Delaney. Ric already used up all his sick days at work. They didn't have anyone else to call. Elena flew home on the first flight after they told her." Stefan paused to let the significance of his words sink in. "They spent almost six months here off and on. I never saw Elena leave when Brenna was here. You have no idea the number of times I came by in the mornings and found the two of them asleep on the bathroom floor when Brenna was the sickest."

"Why didn't she tell me?"

"No idea." Stefan shrugged. "That's a question you're going to have to ask her."


The noise of the crowd at the Breakfast with Santa was beyond deafing…probably just short of standing directly below a jet engine. And it did nothing for Damon's pounding head. Emptying the bottle of his father's best bourbon, he could handle. The sleepless night wasn't exactly planned.

No one seemed to mind. Even with bloodshot eyes, he knew he was still one of the best looking guys in the room. At least that's what all the women clustered around him implied.

While fathers, older siblings, and grandparents patiently waited in line for a chance to sit in Santa Claus' lap, the mothers waited for the opportunity to take a photo with Damon. On the opposite side of the tree, a much shorter line stretched toward the spot where Elena waited. Tyler Lockwood appeared a little too happy about being next in her line.

"If I bring it to the parade, will you sign it?" The white haired woman Damon had just posed with poked him in the ribs. He vaguely remembered that she was once the aide in his school library.

"Hey, there, Elena." Tyler's voice was I'm-the-sleazy-guy-picking-a-chick-up-in-a-bar smooth. "Long time, no see."

"And it's still too soon." Elena's voice had an edge to it Damon hadn't heard before, not even when she was trying to make forced small talk before doing their chemistry tests for Casablanca.

Poke.

Poke.

Poke.

"Are you going to answer me?" Mrs. Stevenson repeated, poking even harder.

"Sure. I'll sign it."

Damon was fully distracted now. As Klaus readied his camera for the next posed shot, one of the teenagers from Mystic Fall's High School's journalism class waited for Tyler to get ready for his photo with Elena.

"Come on, pretend I'm Santa." Tyler tugged at Elena's arm, trying to pull her into his lap.

"I'll be right back." Damon held a finger up to signal the next pair of sisters would need to wait a moment for their picture. He circled behind the Christmas tree and removed Tyler's hand from Elena's arm. "Consider it two for the price of one." He gestured for Tyler to move as he took the seat in the chair.

Stunned, Elena sat on his leg while Tyler was forced to stand awkwardly behind them. Damon couldn't even focus on his annoyance at Tyler or the fact he realized they'd attracted a fair amount of unwanted attention. He was too alarmed by how light Elena seemed and how easy it was to feel her ribs beneath her heavy sweater.

She must have been able to read the question in his eyes. "Later. We can go for coffee."

Damon nodded, hardly even aware when she stood and walked away.


"I'm not sick…and there's no eating disorder. I've already had this conversation with Jenna, Ric, and your brother." Elena blew on the mug of her hot chocolate. "It was a World War II movie, Damon."

"I know that." Damon's answer was sharper than he'd intended. Everyone knew that. The role of Rose had been one of the most hotly coveted roles of last summer's filming season. No one expected someone who walked out on her last role to win it. But Elena did.

And that's why there were sitting here now…or at least he assumed it was to talk about Elena's most recent film. So far, that's been the only topic of conversation she'd been willing to move past single-syllable answers.

They'd called a truce, but he wasn't sure how that meant he'd ended up having coffee with her, especially not at The Beanery. The corner booth at the opposite end of the tiny shop was practically screaming at them to take their familiar seats.

"My character, Rose, was in a concentration camp." She paused, letting the weight of her words filter through the still-slightly-hung-over fog of Damon's brain. "Losing weight was part of the contract…and, honestly, that was one of the easiest parts of the role."

"But."

She continued. "I hadn't known just exactly how much weight the director had in mind before we got started." Her lips formed a near-perfect O as she took a hesitant sip of her drink. "By the end, I'd lost close to 50 pounds."

"Fifty pounds?" He practically yelled, echoing her words.

"Not all of it was planned. I got sick halfway through. Pneumonia on top of bronchitis on top of the worst stomach bug I've ever experienced. Geoff said it added authenticity to the part." Elena spoke with venom that suggested she wished her director could have experienced some of the accuracy. "I've had some trouble putting it all back on." She nodded toward her mug. "Hence the extra whipped cream."

Silence fell between them. Her explanation given, Elena seemed uncertain of her next conversation topic. She nervously toyed with the charm bracelet hanging from her wrist. For an instant, he thought she was going to leave.

Damon sat back in his seat, sipping the black coffee. "Brenna's next year's ambassador."

Elena's poker face cracked at the mention of her niece. "She is. I'm assuming Stefan told you. But why?"

"I heard your conversation with Klaus. I was wondering why she was going to be at the party. I didn't know she'd been sick—Ric hadn't even told me."

"We haven't exactly been on speaking terms, Damon." Elena shook her head, placing the mug of hot chocolate down on the table in front of her, almost completely untouched. "Brenna was the reason you left Casablanca." Damon's words were heavy with accusation. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"That's a laugh. Coming from you…the person who thought sticking a note under the windshield of my car was enough of an explanation for why you cancelled the wedding." Elena paused, closing her eyes and taking a breath. When she continued speaking, her voice was almost frighteningly calm. "Exactly how was I supposed to explain? When you wouldn't answer my phone calls? When you marked my e-mails as spam? Or maybe when you told me to go screw myself when I tried to text you."

Her eyes locked with his. She knew she was right.

"I thought you left the show as a way to get back at me once you heard that I was the one who got the part."

"That's hardly a professional way to act. You seriously thought I'd walk on a show because I was angry? Damon, you know me better than that…or I thought you did." For the first time, she showed an emotion that wasn't laced with anger. "Even if you deserved it, the rest of the cast and crew didn't. I always regretted the fact that the movie folded after they couldn't replace me, but it couldn't be helped. Jenna and Ric needed my help. I couldn't let Brenna be alone at the hospital. I'm sorry I didn't explain….but I honestly did try."

And then Elena grew quiet again, the meaning behind her words pressed heavily on Damon. The memory of his conversation with Stefan echoed in his memory. Elena tried to contact him. She was telling the truth.

He was the one who'd never explained.

"Elena." He took a breath, aware that Elena's nerves seemed to be on edge. He had to do it. He owed it to Elena. He owed it to himself. And he wasn't sure if he'd ever really have the chance again. "I couldn't go through with the wedding."

"Really?" She gave a bitter laugh. "I hadn't noticed."

"When I saw Stefan's face…I knew that I just couldn't."

"When you saw Stefan?" Elena appeared to be honestly confused.

Damon gulped his coffee as if it could give him extra strength. "I always knew the two of you were close, but when I saw the look in his eyes… Elena, I couldn't go through with it knowing that he was in love with you too."

If Elena had been drinking her hot chocolate, she would have spilled it. Instead, her eyes grew wide with a mixture of disbelief, annoyance, and total shock. "Stefan?" She shook her head. "Damon, Stefan's always been my best friend. But there's never been anything more than that between us."

"Don't lie to me, Elena." He'd told her the truth. She owed the same to him.

"Maybe you need to look at something other than a mirror when you're at home." She rolled her eyes. "Because Stefan and Klaus are really very happy together."