A tantalizing mixture of smells drifted into the bedroom. Coffee, eggs, and bacon. It was amazing. The bed was empty, and Elena drug herself from its warm confines and drifted down the hall. The sun was shining through the sunroom where Damon had set the glass table for the two of them. Her favorite mug rolled with steam in the sunshine. He loomed over the stove, prodding a strip of bacon with a spatula. A towel was slung over his shoulder, and he leaned against the cane he hated but was reliant on so much. His hair was still a mess and he was dressed, as if he were going somewhere. At seven in the morning. Like for a run. As always.
"Morning, pretty lady." He plopped the bacon over onto a plate. Elena had to suppress her urge to wrap herself around him and give him a kiss to go with that greeting."Hungry?"
"Most definitely," she smiled back, picking up the plate only to have it taken away from her as soon as it reached her grip.
"Nuh-uh. Go sit. I've got this." Elena rose her hands in mock-surrender and did as he said, sitting down at the table where her mug sat. He hobbled behind her shortly after, plate in one hand and cane in another, to finish the spread. Fruit, bacon, eggs, grits, toast, and biscuits were neatly put on plates. More then she'd ever be able to eat. But that didn't keep her from wanting every bit of it. Her stomach did a growl in agreement.
"Damon, how long have you been awake?" she asked as she started filling her plate with a tiny bit of everything in her reach. Damon watched her, pleased.
"Oh..five. Thirty. Ish." He shrugged, helping himself to a biscuit and jelly. "I didn't really get much sleep after that...whatever it was..last night. So about sunrise, I got up."
"You should have woken me. I would have helped." She spoke behind her hand and around a mouth of toast. God this was good. Or she was just hungry.
"Never. You deserved your sleep. I wasn't going to wake you for raw eggs and sausage." His lip curled into a grin at her and she speared a chunk of her food, rolling her eyes.
"Mhm. Well, I do say you did a good job. It's delicious, babe." She picked up her coffee, eying it cautiously. Damon watched from the corner of his eye but continued to eat as if he weren't. She took a tentative sip, and was thrilled. Sweetened, just as she liked. She grinned at the man beside her.
"You did this?" she almost demanded out of excitement. Damon didn't act phased. He was solid.
"Is it right?" Blue eyes went from her to the cup. His escapade with the mug this morning had sent him on a tangent. He'd never seen it, but when he did he knew exactly what was supposed to go into it: two sugars and a drop of the vanilla in the spice cabinet. He'd never heard of that once. But, if his mind was going to offer something like that, he wasn't about to write it off as a random thought. Nothing that intricate was random.
"Yes! Damon, you remembered!" Elena was beaming, and Damon started to himself.
"Hot damn! I knew it was something!" Elena leaned over, happily hugging his neck and planting a kiss on his cheek.
"What made you decide on that?" she mumbled as she pulled away. "That wasn't some experiment was it?"
"Well, in a way. I kind of heard it in my head and experimented with whether or not that was your coffee order." He grinned. "Guess not everything is gone."
"I knew it wasn't. This is so great, Damon." She started back into her food, but she was so aflutter she wasn't even hungry now.
"And about that," he started, biting at the bit with this. "I had an idea last night, while I was awake so long." She waited. "Why don't we go someplace?"
"Where would you like to go?"
"Where we met." Elena shot him a questioning glance.
"Bonnie's living room?"
"Okay. Maybe it was a bad idea." He laughed a little, scratching the back of his head. "I thought about trying to jog my memories. It happened with the cup. Maybe it'll happen with something else I know. Where did I propose to you?"
Elena smiled, a mouthful of toast, and pointed to the place by the stove with her fork. "Right there. With more nerves than any I'd ever seen."
"There? God, I suck at romance," he chuckled some, a hint of disappointment definitely in his voice. His girl quickly shook her head, forcing her food to go down so she could chime in.
"You /do not./ You can be romantic when you want. You just have to put a lot of thought into it before you do." Damon rose a brow. He sucked at romance. Like he said. He felt awkward with it, mainly because he found most of it to be cheesy. Did this chick find cheesy cute?
"When was I romantic?" Elena primly stacked her plate on top of his empty one, laying the two sets of silverware in the center of them. She had a look of thought, like she had to hunt and peck for something. He must have about one romantic event in this relationship. He didn't expect any less.
"After we started really going out, you blindfolded me for an entire hour. I was impatient and really was about to get testy with you it was so long. You kept telling me to just wait. It would be worth it. You drove me out of town and to an overlook right at sundown. I don't know how you got a table and chairs into the state park with a full dinner, but you did. It was amazing." Elena was glowing with the memory. He did that? This woman had had him around her little finger.
"And I proposed to you in the fucking kitchen. Christ." Damon laughed, rubbing his face.
"Rumor has it that evidently on the way back from your last tour, you had decided to. That's what you told me at least. And then you babbled about 'now or never' and a few other things. You were scared to death." She laughed a little, like she enjoyed the thought, and pushed a piece of egg around on her plate. She was lost in another time and another place.
"What do we do in our free time?" Damon twisted his coffee mug. Elena broke immediately out of her daydream to shoot him this priceless "did you really" look. He couldn't help but smirk. Smugly, at that.
"Okay. Rephrase. What do we do that's acceptable in public during our free time?" Elena thought on it, trying to think of what all they had done the last time he was home from duty.
"When you didn't have me against a wall, we love to go out and hike in the Old Wood. There's this trail that goes along the outskirts of town. At the end is an abandoned mansion. It's beautiful. I never get tired of seeing it."
"You mean the old Veritas place? I've been there a hundred times." Elena nodded.
"That's the one. You showed it to me. I've lived here my whole life and I never knew it existed until you drug me out there one day."
"I don't see you as the hiker-type," he teased, making a frizzy curl that had fallen from the clip at the back of her hair bounce flaccidly. She narrowed her eyes at him until he was unsure that they were even open anymore.
"I may be pretty but I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty," she scoffed. Damon threw his hands up in surrender.
"I just said you looked like. I don't know that you aren't. You might even out-hike me."
"You're on a cane. I'm sure that a snail could out-hike you right now." She grinned teasingly at him, and he nodded to himself with a chuckle. This woman was sharp.
"Okay, okay. Let's not make fun of the cripple. Give me a week. I'll be kicking your ass on that trail." Elena sat up in her chair, like the thought of a challenge had caught her attention.
"We'll see."
"You bet." He smirked.
"Only if the doctor says you can," was her next sentence. He rolled his eyes. He hated the doctor. He was only in the hospital because he was in a coma. If he'd been conscious, he'd been gone way earlier than he was.
"Doctor, schmockter," he muttered.
"No, Doctor Eaves. He's really good, Damon."
"Don't kill my vibes, gorgeous."
"You're going back."
"For what? I'm walking. I'm alive."
"And you also have three broken ribs and a lung that collapsed at one point. Oh, and that memory thing. Let's not leave that out." She sounded a little upset, but he didn't acknowledge it. He hated the doctor. He hated hospitals. He hated anything related to the possibility of being poked or jabbed with needles. But if he kept pressing he would piss her off. He'd just really started getting to get her. Or re-get her. Some parts of her he swore he knew, but others were like meeting her for the first time. Like he knew her in another lifetime. So he let out a breath and just nodded.
"Sure, Elena." He tapped a finger on his elbow, wondering about how much treading he could do in such testy waters. "We'll see." It was as close as he could get without starting up an argument. She huffed, knowing what he was doing, and started picking up plates in sets of twos until her arms were full.
"Are we going somewhere or something? I've got to get ready if so."
"Sure. The park? It's nice out. We should go." Elena gulped, remembering two weeks ago when she was last there.
"Back in a few." And she disappeared into the bedroom.
Damon could practically see her tense at the word he uttered. What was so bad? It was just a park. He got to his feet, feeling the soreness radiate not quite as far as it had the day before. It was just as painful, though. A few more days and he'd be able to chunk this old man stick. Thank god. He made his way into the bedroom, finding his closet. Elena was in the bathroom, steam beginning to fog the mirror over the sink. He pulled something from a hanger and threw it on. He hoped it was decent. He was too busy letting himself watch through the crack of the door as Elena readied for her shower. She was still swathed in a robe, flipping though a basket of things and picking out bottles to take with her into the shower. She was systematic, robotic in her movements but graceful. It was natural to her. She fluttered around the bathroom until she had everything she needed. Damon had intended to leave her be, but he couldn't tear himself away. Elena began to untie the sash about her waist. She slid it off a pair of exquisitely carved shoulders, letting it pool into a heap of turquoise at her feet. He already knew she was beautiful, but he couldn't help but appreciate the form in front of him. He admired the slight dimples on her back, the amazing curve of her hips. He crawled upwards as she slowly turned. When he finally met her gaze, he felt slightly obligated to apologize, but the knowing little grin on her face told him otherwise. She was okay with it. Probably used to it, knowing him.
Elena wasn't surprised to see Damon eyeing her. His /second/ favorite pastime. But he was still doing it, despite the fact he was relearning their relationship, and it made her feel wonderful. It made her hopeful. Damon's lips quirked a little, obviously happy about her discovery. His eyes continued to rake over her, and she laughed at his drooling.
"Damon. Go get dressed." She unpinned her hair and rolled back the glass door of the shower. He didn't move, adoring the sight of the brown locks falling across her skin like waves.
"Damon."
"I'm dressed!" She rose a brow. He had successfully put on a shirt. That was it. He was still wearing what he worked out in.
"You are /not/ going out in public in a pair of those pants. Not with me anyways."
"I didn't say I was dressed /decently./" He remarked, wagging his brows at her. Was he kidding? She rolled her eyes and moved under the stream of hot water, cheekily cutting off his momentary eye candy.
Damon studied the sets of keys hanging along the hooks near the door. There were two, one just a fob, and another crowded with five different keychains and keys. Had to be hers. He picked them from the hook, hearing Elena flip off the light switches through the house.
"You're not driving," she sang, grabbing the pair he'd assumed his. He felt slightly disappointed at himself. What the hell did he have so many keys for?
"And why not?"
"Drugs."
"You say that like I'm a junkie." He chuckled, taking them from her hand. "Besides, I haven't even taken one today. I don't need it." Elena huffed.
"Damon you're-"
"Alive and perfectly well," he took her keys from her. It was so lithe, Elena didn't have a chance to fight it. She sighed, throwing her hands up. Was there really any use in trying? "Now get in, hot stuff."
"Hot stuff? I haven't heard that one in a while." She got into the passenger's seat without reproval. Laying his wallet on his lap, she pointed a finger at him.
"Wreck my car, I'll wreck you." Damon sat a moment, like he was considering her words.
"Is that a promise or...?" Elena bit her lips, trying not to laugh.
"Oh my God. Just shut up and drive!" He began to chuckle while Elena's neck flushed red with bother. Nothing had affected that part of his mind. She shook her head to herself, looking out the window as they headed towards downtown.
"So, Elena. Can you tell me about the years of my life that I've misplaced?" Misplaced. That was a good word for it. She drummed fingers against her knees, trying to decide where to start, and how far to go. Some of it would just have to wait until later. On her part.
"Well," she began, "I met you Christmas 2007, like I told you. You'd just enlisted in the military. You were leaving for basic training a few days after. I thought I'd probably never see you again. They shipped you to Fort Benning and you stayed gone for nearly four months. We wrote back and forth. When you came home, you were here for three months, then shipped out. You came home again in February. Left again in August. That time you were gone for a year. August 1 to August 1. That was the worst time. Carol died. You were shot. I was scared to death you weren't going to get back home. But you did. This last time you left, they kept extending your deployment. I thought I was going to have to have a Come to Jesus meeting with the damn army. Your brother and I even went to the airport twice to pick you up. But finally you were there the second time." She smiled, but it was tired.
"How are you even still here?" Damon asked. He'd long since parked the car and killed it, listening to her recount of his life. "I wasn't even here for half our relationship."
"Because I loved you. I didn't need to go anywhere else." She said it like it was obvious. A no-brainer. "I still do." Damon gave his head a shake.
"What is it?"
"This place looks different," he said, skipping her question. She didn't seem to notice. She looked out the window, seemingly reluctant, but got out anyways. She stood off to the side, waiting for Damon to join her.
"Do I still run here?" The center of the square had been decorated with a fountain since he last recalled. He meandered towards it. A brass placard was mounted on the edge of the cement wall that read, "In loving memory of Carol Lockwood." Damon itched, seeing his nightmare all over again.
"Every morning." Elena folded her arms, following close to Damon as he investigated. The park was beautiful since the mayor had added the fountain. Caroline's landscaping plans had done nothing but good for it, too, with the bright summer wildflowers. They drew in butterflies like flies to honey. It beautified the city even more. Damon nudged Elena, pointing towards the ground near her feet.
"I used to be the jerk that did that." He smirked, kind of proud of himself. Mostly ashamed, but proud.
"Sheriff Forbes had me on his radar. He never could catch me driving through. Of course, now I can't. It's all fancy." With a chuckle, he kicked a little at the deep rut in the grass. Elena couldn't see anything but flashing blue lights and gurneys. Of course he didn't remember. She'd never forget.
"Damon, that wasn't from kids. That was from Mrs. Flowers."
"She's still alive?" Right. The woman was nearing a hundred, but it didn't keep her from trying to do what everyone else did. She was a hellaciously stubborn old woman. Notoriously so.
"Yes, Damon. She's the one that ran you over. She can't see anymore. She doesn't even remember driving." Damon stared at Elena, then looked at the ruts in the ground. Thick brows knitted together. He was trying. He looked almost sad, but Elena couldn't be for total sure. Gosh how she hated to see him struggle.
"It's okay, Damon," she said quietly. She slid her hand into his, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"I don't even know what I don't remember, Elena," he sighed. The frustration was clear in his voice, but she could tell he was trying to keep his calm. "I can't remember weird parts. I know stuff happened, but I don't remember who was there. And sometimes I remember people and them doing something, but I have no fucking clue what's going on."
"I'm sorry, Damon. I wish I could help, but I don't know how."
"It's not your fault, Elena. I'm just confused as hell." He shook his head. "It's even worse because I can't remember /you/. I don't remember meeting you, your birthday, your fucking favorite color. I don't know any of it. I know I'm supposed to love you more than anything in the world, but I've just met you."
"I know, Damon. I..understand. It's okay," she reassured him, that last sentence stinging a little. /I'm supposed to.../ "You'll come around." Happy tones. Optimism. She should work on that anyways. "You've only been awake for a few days. Give it some time." Damon scratched at his temple almost angrily before finally agreeing with her.
"You're right. I'm just panicking, I guess."
"Don't panic. I think that's one of the things they teach you in military school." She gave him a smile despite how she felt. Uncomfortable and quite ready to leave this situation, she gently nudged him and edged him forward. She didn't like it here. She only saw the scene from two weeks ago instead of the gorgeous place where she spent so much time in the past. Before she could remember having her first beers at the bonfire, her first kiss and first date with Tyler Lockwood, and even the prom she went stag with with Bonnie and Caroline. Now she just saw icy stone pavement and skid marks. It was just too soon.
"Bonnie wrote me this morning," she started. "She's making this huge dinner. She wants everyone to come."
"Tonight?"
"If you want to, that is. And you are, considering she's making it in your honor." Damon rose a brow as they reached the car again, making the loop around the park complete.
"Mine? What did I do?" Elena folded her arms and cocked her head at him in a "don't ask dumb questions" way that he thought was kind of cute.
"You've been through a lot. And all of us happen to love you. Even my socially-hermited brother who doesn't like anyone. That should be enough reason as it is. Oh, and Stefan's going to be there. He's coming back in from his business trip." Damon's face screwed up in confusion.
"Business trip?"
"Oh. Stefan started making his own whiskey, and he's trying to find someone to help him market it. It's better than any of that stuff you guys ever drank."
"His own /whiskey/? He's insane. That takes years."
"But he did it. He started working on it evidently in about 2000. Bon has some. I'm sure she'll let you try it." This time Elena got the keys and put herself into the driver's seat before Damon could protest. He grumbled, but he complied.
"How much has changed, 'Lena?" he asked, throwing his cumbersome cane as far into the back of the car as he could.
"Too much, Damon," she said quietly. "Too, too much."
Later that night, Elena and Damon had arrived at Bonnie's. Though Bon told her not to, Elena brought a dish anyways as a thank you for her help during Damon's coma. It was Bonnie's favorite dessert, Miranda's Grape and Walnut Salad. She didn't retort when she saw the dish in Elena's arms, and promptly hid it in the fridge. The house was full. Grams sat in the corner, holding Marie as she rocked in the fluffy recliner and chatted. Jeremy and Stefan were talking over a game playing on the television in the den. Damon started making his way there, anxious to find a seat and take some of the pain off his bum leg. As soon as he came into view, Mary jumped to her feet and flung her arms around her son.
"Damon! Oh my gosh, Damon, I'm so happy to see you!"
"Mom?"
"Yes, honey, it's me! Your brother picked me up in New York." Mary started investigating her child, noting the cane he leaned against. "How are you, dear?"
"I'm...okay. Kind of foggy still, so don't get testy with me, huh?" He smirked, kissing her cheek like he knew she was waiting for so much.
"I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner. You know they don't just let us old people go all the time like we'd like." Damon narrowed his eyes at his mother, but she was already whisking towards the kitchen in that way she always did. She was so lofty. That would be the meds, Elena had told him. Giuseppe had died during Damon's second return home of an aneurysm. After Giuseppe's death, Mary started to decline. Her friends slowly began to die as well, and eventually Mary became a hermit inside the place where she lived with her husband. Her mind began to deteriorate as well. That idea killed Damon, but Elena quickly reminded him that Stefan and he had opted to put her in an assisted living center. She'd blossomed since then, but her mind wasn't quite the same. She was exhibiting some signs of dementia, according to the last call they had received. But his mother was happy in the Upstate New York place, so Damon and Stefan left her be.
"Brother!" Stefan was next, more than thrilled to see Damon. He quickly pulled him into an embrace, one so tight he almost questioned if this was Stefan Salvatore.
"I'm so-"
"Glad to see me? Are you sure?" Damon grinned.
"I really am. We were worried for a while." Damon twisted the cane in his grip.
"Sorry I gave you such a scare."
"As long as you're still alive, that's the important part," Stefan stepped to the side, offering the seat where he was a few moments ago to him. Usually Damon would wave it away, but the searing pain in his knee was past hurting. He gladly plopped down, letting out a sigh of relief as it immediately began to ease.
"How are you?" Damon cringed. Depends.
"I'm...okay. Sore. But I lost some of my memories." Stefan frowned.
"How much have you lost?"
"That depends on what you mean by lost. I remember pieces, but it's scattered. I don't remember Elena, the army." Damon itched the back of his neck. "Basically the entire past six or seven years."
"Damn, Damon. You know I'll help as much as I can. Just ask."
"Thank you, Stef. I appreciate that."
"I'm sorry I didn't see you sooner, Damon," Stefan began a little remorsefully. "I couldn't get out of my meeting."
"Yeah," Damon started a grin. "Elena told me you're trying to be a businessman now. I'm impressed little bro!" Stefan chuckled.
"Trying is the right word. I haven't had much luck. I think these last people might be my break, though." Stefan picked up an untouched glass from the coffeetable and offered it to him with a hopeful look.
"Try it. Tell me if you think it's worth anything." Damon took the glass and inhaled, a smoky woodish odor filling his nose. He liked that. He liked that a lot. Dosing himself a long sip, the sweet taste that came from it was easily one of the best he'd tasted in a very long while. It wasn't hard. It was smooth, inviting.
"I wouldn't turn down a second helping of that. Damon, brother. You're good." Stefan all but beamed with pride, though he'd heard Damon tell him that before. Damon was such a picky ass about his liquor. Validation from him was like a chef's validation from Gordon Ramsey.
"I think I might have got something going. I'm excited about this." Damon chuckled, setting down his empty glass back in its place on the table. About that time, Elena flew into the room.
"Grams, you know I love you, right?" She slid onto the ottoman in front of Sheila, who looked down at her as if she wanted her to beg.
"I do. And I love you as well, Elena," she said solemnly, not about to let her little sucking up spell get to her. Elena waited, suddenly a little frustrated when she realized her stubbornness.
"Grams, I want the baby. I haven't seen her in almost a week! Pretty please?" Sheila sighed, looking down at the bundle in her arms. Though it was reluctant she carefully handed her over. She'd held Marie all day. She might could use a break.
Across the room, Damon watched Elena's face light up as the tiny bundle was left in her arms. It was like seeing a whole other person emerge. To say it was amazing to him would be an understatement. Stefan chuckled.
"She loves that baby almost more than her parents do," he said as he finished his own glass off. "You know Bonnie made you two the godparents." That got Damon's attention. He turned, looking at him as if he had suddenly spouted off another language.
"Are you kidding? A kid?" Stefan nodded.
"Yeah I'm sure. She didn't name her Marie because she thought it was cute. Elena's middle name. Remember?"
"A puppy maybe, but a kid? Kids run from me," he snorted, looking from Elena to his brother again. Stefan rubbed his chin, suddenly feeling at a loss for words. He gathered the two glasses.
"I'm going to go see if there's anything to be done. I didn't bring anything. Least I can do," he said with his head down, then exited the room without another word. Damon continued to watch Elena. She spotted him and rose, bringing Marie with her and even holding out the tiny human for him to take.
"Wait wait, Elena. I can't hold...her. A baby. I can't."
"Yes, you can! You've held one before."
"Yeah, but I lost my memory. I don't remember how. Remember?" He was watching the bundle in Elena's arms like a hawk. A scared hawk. She rolled her eyes, pulling Damon's arms out enough to just cradle Marie. She set her down there gently as if she would break. Marie was weightless it seemed. She peered up at Damon with round dark eyes. Her skin was a milky shade of brown, one that matched her mother's. Marie studied Damon for a long moment, watching both him and the woman beside him.
"She's trying to remember you," Elena whispered in his ear as she looked on.
"Maybe she'll update me, then," he chuckled. Damon started to smile at her, and immediately she returned it. Elena laughed.
"See? You're not exactly inexperienced at this." She rolled her lips, biting back on saying anything else. Just then, Bonnie popped her head into the room.
"I have a table very full of food and the guest of honor is not even at it," she chided playfully. "Get in here, you two."
"Two? Not counting little bit here?" Damon picked up Marie's hand, waving it at Bonnie. She rolled her eyes. No wonder she was such good friends with Elena.
"Try again when you've got teeth, babes." She outstretched her arms, greeting Marie's smile with one of her own as she took her from Damon's arms. "I'll let her down and be in in a second." Elena almost pouted as Bonnie took Marie away, but not without kissing the chubby cheeks of hers first.
"Sit down, Damon! We can't eat if you're not here," Stefan jabbed playfully as he spread a cloth napkin across his lap.
"Come now, Stefan. Leave your brother alone," Mrs. Salvatore scolded, sitting so properly at her seat. Damon snickered like a victorious little boy at Stefan.
"Yeah, Stef. Leave me alone. You heard her."
"And you," she pointed, "Aren't special. /Behave./" Jeremy snorted from the other end of the table as Stefan chuckled. Bonnie came back just in time to see all the commotion and took the seat beside her man. She gave a shake of her head at Elena, who just rolled her eyes with a laugh. Jeremy sat at the head of the table, and as he rose, Elena was instantly reminded of their long-gone father, how regal he was in that same spot for so many family dinners. It didn't help that, as he aged, he looked more and more like Greyson Gilbert.
"I wanted to say something," he started, looking in the direction of his sister and Damon. "I think I can speak for everyone when I say that I'm glad to see you on our soil again, Damon. This dinner was supposed to be...what? Three months ago, Bon? It's long overdue. You're starting to rival Iron Man over there. Three tours, now this accident." Everyone laughed at that, even Damon. "You've been through it, Damon, but I'm glad that you're still at this table. We all love you, bro." Damon's lips curled into a bashful smile.
"Well, whatever support I needed came from you guys, and especially this girl beside me," he said, running a hand along Elena's thigh. "I appreciate all of it. I love you guys, too."
"Now, let's eat. I've been smelling this all damn day," Jeremy laughed. They all filled their plates with green beans, squash, casseroles, and a ham Bonnie had cooked since the night before. She had been in the kitchen since nine that morning, every dish on the table from Grams' cookbook. Plates emptied and refilled. The desserts that sat on the bar remained untouched for a long while until someone broke out a stack of playing cards. Then, the boys started using Bonnie's cookies as playing chips, the white-chocolate snickerdoodles the most valuable on the table. Grams and Mary washed dishes, refusing to let the cook do such a thing after all the work she had put in. But, because Bonnie was as stubborn as she was a woman, she helped them anyways. That left Elena and Marie, who easily entertained one another. Marie was laid across the oversized leather ottoman, Elena playing with her feet and tickling them to make her squeal with laughter. Damon loved it. He watched from afar between pushing out a cookie or two to the pot and trying to keep tabs on his opponents.
"Now that's something I've seen before," he mumbled as Elena looked over to see him gazing at her. A smile on her face was pure happiness, and it was beautiful. Across the table, Stefan was trying to get his brother's attention.
"Damon!" He immediately turned back to the group, looking to the cards in his hands.
"Sorry. What?"
"Your turn, dreamboat," Jeremy smirked, biting into one of the cookies from his stack.
"Hey! Don't eat the money!" Stefan said. Damon threw out two more snickerdoodles.
"I need to ask you guys something," he said, laying his cards down and ignoring the two's bickering. "I know it sounds really shitty, but I need you to tell me about Elena." Stefan and Jeremy exchanged glances, but didn't say a word.
"Where do you want to start, D?" Jeremy asked as he finished off a second cookie.
"Birthday, where she went to school. Elementary stuff."
"June 22. She went to Mystic Falls-"
"She couldn't have. I would've remembered."
"She did," Stefan nodded. "But if you'll recall your high school years, Damon, you were the biggest ass on campus." Jeremy nodded in agreement.
"Only the cheerleaders went after you. And that was because they were all sluts." Stefan chuckled, knowing that truth was strong.
"Okay, not here for a high school reunion," Damon grumbled.
"I'm not trying to be rude, but shouldn't you be asking her all this?" Stefan asked. Damon rubbed his face, honestly without an answer for that question. But perhaps he was right.
"I'll tell you one thing," Jeremy started, sounding slightly on the defense. This should be good. "I don't totally hold it against you, but I do sort of hate you for it. When you got deployed the first time to Iraq, you were practically set out on the frontlines. You got shot, but you never came home. She told me when you got home and you two were together, she found it. And from then on, between the secrets you kept from her, the way I saw you treat her, and the government keeping you so long...you changed, and she changed with you. She's not the same Elena anymore. I don't love her any less, but she's just not the same." Damon narrowed his eyes at Jeremy. How he treated her? What did he mean?
"Elaborate, Gilbert," he demanded. Stefan sat back in his chair, like this was a story to be told. Jeremy shifted in his own, letting out an exhale.
"Okay. When she met you, you were still dick Damon from Mystic Falls High. I don't know what in the hell possessed you to join the army. No one did. But right before you left, you met Elena. You two were inseparable the two weeks before you left. You were gone. Came back, everything was fine. When you came back from Iraq, you were totally different. It scared Elena. I think it scared you worse. She came to me, talking about how you said that you didn't know if you would make it back next time- crazy shit. I don't think you were as ready for the army as you though, D. I know Elena wasn't. Every time you leave, she stays over here more than anything. You scare the hell out of her, Damon. I know she doesn't know it, that it doesn't seem like it, but you do. She's constantly scared that you're not going to come back or you're going to have one of those night terrors she can't pull you out of. She's scared of losing anyone else. Can't say I blame her. Besides me, you're all Elena has left."
Damon quietly observed the woman he was slowly falling for, that he was constantly trying to decipher what he did and didn't know of her. She smiled that smile again. The one he was so familiar with, yet he knew nothing of. She was beautiful. More than any he'd laid eyes on in his life. She was magnificent, full of love, and such care. Jeremy's words had hit him like a truck. If this was her now, what was she like before? Had he done some irrevocable damage because of his selfish ways? Making her expect his death was nothing short of it. He wanted to kick himself. Who did that? Who forced a unwholesome state of mind like that onto a person. /He did./ So could he fix it? He had a taste of what he had endured for the three years he was away from American land. And if that was really what he went through, he wouldn't want to bless that woman with that sort of constant dread. He was deployed for how long? Three of the six years he had been with Elena? Had she stayed in that landlocked mood for all that time? He wished he could remember /so much,/ because he would be sure he would never treat her like that again.