MYSTIC FALLS JUNE 25 2016
The double funeral took place three days later. Elena was saturated with grief over Stefan's death. She had hardly slept or eaten since that grim night when Professor Tanner had relayed the gut-wrenching news of Stefan's death.
A shroud of cold grey clouds covered the late afternoon sky, casting its gloom over the cemetery and adding to its bleak, cheerless look. With Aunt Jenna on one side, and his brother Jeremy on the other, Elena stood stony-eyed and silent as she watched Stefan's coffin lowered into the ground.
Zach Salvatore, his wife and his daughter Sarah stayed with Elena as long as they could. Zach cursed Damon for not being in attendance. But Elena couldn't care less. She felt flat, drained, no emotion left.
She leaned back in the chair, gazing at Stefan's photo. She had fought so hard against believing Stefan would leave her forever. She realised that now she would never see him again. Stefan was really gone.
After her parents died in the accident, she kind of felt like she didn't know how to live anymore, like she didn't want to, but then being with Stefan...it just...somehow she figured it out. And that was what love should be, wasn't it? You should love the person that makes you glad that you are alive.
What should she do now? The man who had made her believed that she was alive had gone. He would never come back anymore.
Jenna, Jeremy and Caroline had been very supportive. She knew she had to be strong. She had to carry on with her life. Yet she felt dead already – beyond feeling, beyond caring. There were things she should be doing, but they seemed unimportant as she sat and stared at the photo.
x x x
MYSTIC FALLS DECEMBER 25 2005
On the morning of Christmas there was thick snow on the ground. Elena stared out her window watching the snowflakes falling. She wondered if Damon had returned to Mystic Falls for Christmas.
A text arrived on her phone while she was helping her mum and Aunt Jenna with the dishes after lunch.
Merry Christmas. Wanna play in the snow? I'm at the park near the Town Hall. Damon.
Stunned, she tried to catch back the incredulous laugh that bubbled from her.
"What is it?" Miranda asked.
"Mum, can I use the car?" She dried her hands and slung the damp towel over a rack. "I need to go out."
Miranda raised her brows. "Where are you going? It's snowing outside."
"I'm going over to April's house." She lied. "I won't be out for too long. I promise you." She landed a peck on Miranda's cheek and grabbed the car keys.
The sky was a bright, blinding blue overhead, it was cold but not bitterly so, and the world outside looked like an arctic wonderland.
Elena parked the SUV along the road near the park and climbed out. Closing the door behind her, she pulled on her gloves. She walked towards the park but there was nobody around. Where was Damon? She wondered.
A snowball hit her hard in the shoulder. "What the hell?!"
Then she heard Damon's laughter a few feet behind her. She turned and saw Damon grinning at her.
"Merry Christmas, sweetheart!" Damon winked at her. "Do you miss me?"
A snowball hit disrespectfully on his front chest.
"This," Elena informed him, enjoying herself hugely, "was partial payment for smashing snow on my shoulder just now."
Grinning, Damon brushed the snow off his jacket, then advanced on her slowly and purposefully. "That was extremely childish," he chided.
She watched him, backing away, step for step. "Don't try it," she said, choking on a laugh, "I'm warning you…"
Damon lunged, she twisted suddenly, tangling her leg around the back of his knee, jerking hard and up, and the next thing he knew, he was toppling backward in slow motion again, flapping his arms like a wounded goose, trying to regain his balance. He landed flat on his back with an audible thud at her feet while her laughter pealed like bells through the park.
She stood over him, waiting for him to get up, but he continued to lie there, his face strangely thoughtful, his eyes focused on the bright blue sky above her head. "Aren't—aren't you going to get up?" she chortled after a minute.
He turned his head toward her. "What's the point?"
"I didn't hurt you, did I?" she said cautiously.
"My pride is in tatters, Elena."
A sudden memory of his job as a cop flashed through her mind, and she suddenly understood why he was embarrassed. She could tell he wasn't faking it either by the way he was lying there and the strained tone in his voice. "That was stupid of me. Please get up."
He squinted against the sun and said quietly, "Are you going to knock me down again?"
"No, I promise I won't. You're absolutely right, I was being childish." She reached out a hand to help him, bracing herself on the slim off chance that this was a trick and he was going to try to jerk her off her feet, but he took her assistance gratefully.
"I'm too old for this," he complained, rubbing the back of his knee and brushing off snow.
"Look at the snow today," Elena said, anxious to make him forget his embarrassment, pointing to the ground. Giving him a sunny smile, she asked, "How would you feel about helping me to build a snowman?"
"That's fine," he said and to her delighted shock, he reached for her hand and held it like two lovers walking through the snow, holding hands. "What was that you did to me back there?" he asked admiringly. "Was it some sort of karate move, or was it judo? I always mix up the two."
"Judo," she said uneasily.
"Why in hell didn't you pull that on Kai that evening?"
She gave him an embarrassed look. "I only learned Judo recently. Girls have to learn to protect themselves, you know."
"You are right."
They reached the centre of the park and he let go of her hand, looking down at her with an admiring smile. "Do you know any other fancy moves like that?"
Elena knew several more. "No, actually, I don't."
Still smiling down at her, he said very softly and very gently, "Then please permit me teach you another one…" He moved so swiftly that Elena let out a startled screech at the same time she left the ground, propelled backward into a pile of snow with exactly the right of amount of controlled momentum to land her, sitting up, legs sprawled straight out in front of her, unhurt.
She gaped at him, laughing helplessly at her ignominious flight through the air, then she got to her feet. "You are really awful," she chided, pretending to concentrate on brushing the snow off while she tried to think how to get even. She turned away from him for a second, then she turned back and gave him an innocent smile as she walked toward him.
"Had enough?" he countered, grinning, his hands loosely at his sides.
"Yep, you win. I give up."
This time, however, Damon saw the sparkle in those bewitching brown eyes. "Liar," he laughed when she began slowly circling him, looking for a place to aim her body. He turned with her, both of them laughing now—Damon determined not to give her an opening when she charged, Elena knowing exactly how she intended to force him to give her one.
"Time out," she laughed, stopping and pretending to fiddle with the zipper she had pulled down herself a minute ago. "No wonder I'm freezing. This zipper keeps sliding down."
"Here," Damon said with swift courtesy, exactly as Damon had hoped. "Let me try." He pulled off his right glove and looked down at the zipper. The moment his fingers touched the tab, Elena twisted sharply, aimed her shoulder at his chest with all her might and ploughed at him like a football halfback. He moved aside, and Elena's shoulder rammed thin air with so much might that she went ploughing right past him, head down. Propelled by her own force, she charged straight into the snow bank behind him, burying her head in it all the way up to her shoulders.
Trying to breathe, laugh, and dig the snow off her face at the same time, she backed out of the snow bank, turned around, and leaned against it, while his laughing voice remarked, "I've never seen anyone turn their own head into a snow drill before. Interesting demonstration. Do you think we could sell the idea to a manufacturer?"
That did it. With a shriek of laughter, Elena slid down, collapsing at his feet, convulsed with laughter. Trying to catch her breath, she looked up at his grinning face. He was looming over her, his hands on his hips, a picture of vastly amused male superiority. "When you're ready to get down to serious snowman business," he smugly informed her with his chin thrust in the air as he walked off, "you…"
Elena stuck out her foot. He tripped, twisted, and went down like a felled tree. Howling with laughter, she rolled hastily aside, scrambled to her feet, and backed out of his reach. "Pride cometh before a fall…" she reminded him, giggling, backing further away as he got up.
He was smiling, but there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes as he slowly, purposefully advanced on her. "That does it!" he said softly. "That does it."
"Don't—don't do anything you'll regret…" she chortled helplessly, holding her hand out as if to fend him off as she backed away faster. He increased his pace dramatically. "Now, Damon…" she laughed shakily. "Don't you dare!" she cried, whirling to bolt away as he lunged. He brought her down with a tackle around her waist before she took the first step, shoving her into the snow beneath his body, then rolling her over onto her back, straddling her at the waist. Grinning at her futile struggles, he pinned her wrists above her head with one hand. "Brat," he said cheerfully and softly, while Elena laughed harder and squirmed and struggled to catch her breath. "Give up?"
"Yes, yes, yes!" she managed brokenly.
Her shoulders shaking with mirth, she closed her eyes and deliberately gave him a childish pucker. He smashed cold, wet snow all over her cheeks while she sputtered and laughed harder, then he got up. "Now," he said, grinning like a satisfied sultan as he held a hand out to help her up, "you're sure you've had enough?"
"Enough," Elena laughed, belatedly noticing how boyishly happy and relaxed he looked after what had been nothing more meaningful than frolicking in the snow. She felt a mixture of tenderness and amazement that something as ordinary as a snow fight evidently gave him so much pleasure. Of course, he had spent Christmas alone by himself all these years. He must have missed spending Christmas here in Mystic Falls.
Damon stepped through the deep snow holding her arm for support, his mind on the project ahead of him. "I assume we can get down to serious snowman business," he announced, standing in front of the ground covered with snow and studying it with his hands on his waist and his back to her, "now that you understand the supreme folly of provoking someone so much larger, stronger, and wiser than yourself. Since I have finally gotten your proper respect, I have some very specific ideas about this project..."
A huge snowball hit him on the back of his head. In the park near the Town Hall of Mystic Falls, laughter rang out often during a long winter afternoon, startling the squirrels who watched from the trees while two humans shattered the peace, cavorting like children in the snow, chasing each other around trees, flinging a barrage of snowballs, and then got down to the business of completing a snowman that, when finished, resembled no other snowman in the annals of recorded history.
x x x
MYSTIC FALLS DECEMBER 26 2005
Something about Elena Gilbert fascinated him.
No, it was more than fascination. Elena Gilbert was beginning to become an obsession with him, almost as much of an obsession as his job.
He conjured up an image of her and felt the instant response of his body. He had to shift his position a bit to ease the sudden tightness in his jeans.
Over the years he had met some beautiful women but none had caused such a powerful reaction in him like Elena.
But why Elena Gilbert?
She was only a high school girl. He, on the other hand, was a mature adult. Although he was only seven years older than she in actual years, he felt he was centuries older than she in experience. Beside her youthful idealism, Damon felt terribly old and jaded.
The fact that he found her incredibly sexy and desirable and the fact that he had an erection at this very moment only made him feel like a dirty, old, disgusting letch.
On the other hand, she had also made him laugh yesterday, and he appreciated that, he decided as he tossed down a swallow of bourbon. He hadn't had a snowball fight since he was a child.
Elena Gilbert somehow made him felt he was not alone.
Firm, straight nose. Assertive chin. High cheek bones. She had a smile that held a warmth of feminine secrets and a hint of mischief.
The only really spectacular thing about her was the colour of her eyes. Damon was deeply intrigued by those eyes.
He had spent a lot of time trying to determine their exact shade.
He had finally settled on the approximate description of hazel. It was tough to come up with a word that covered the curious blend of dark wood or rich soil that characterized Elena's almond-shaped brown eyes. They made him think of some exotic, mysterious feline. Sensual but untameable. She might choose to give herself to a man, but she would never be coerced or taken by him.
Her hair was also fascinating Long, straight, shiny rich brown hair. Damon had been wanting to get his hands into the thick, sweet-smelling stuff for weeks. He envisioned using such a grip to hold her gently captive while he pulled her down onto a carpet of green grass and made love to her until she no longer had the strength to push him away.
Until she no longer had the energy to keep him dangling.
Until she surrendered completely.
He scowled, feeling uneasy about the odd turn of his thoughts. It wasn't like him to think of a woman with such urgency and possessiveness.
The hell with it. He was brooding again.
Damon gave himself a stern mental shake and concentrated on his cooking.
A fire was roaring in the fireplace, the lights on the beams high above were dimmed, and candles were lit on the coffee table, flickering on the crystal wine glasses he had set out beside linen place mats. It might have been the wine glasses and candles that suddenly made Stefan feel as if he was walking into a seduction scene, or perhaps it was the dimmed lights or the soft music playing on the stereo. He headed toward Damon, who was standing in the kitchen, his back to her, taking something out of the broiler. "Are we expecting company?"
Damon turned and looked at him, an inexplicable, lazy smile sweeping over his face. "It's Boxing Day. I thought we could have a nice dinner together, brother. It has been a long time."
Stefan lounged against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest. "It is true. It has been a long time, brother."
Damon walked toward him, a wine glass in each hand. "Have something to drink," he said, thrusting a long-stemmed glass toward Stefan.
Stefan took a sip of his wine. "Great. What are we having for dinner?"
Damon turned to the stove. "Something simple," he said, "There is nothing much in the fridge." Without turning, he said, "Sit down on the sofa. I will bring the food over there."
Stefan nodded and moved to the living room. With Damon following him, carrying plates, he went over to the sofa and sat down at one of the linen place mats Damon had laid on the coffee table in front of the fire. He put down two plates containing a juicy steak and baked potato each.
"Wow!" Stefan's mouth watered as he stared at the thick, juicy sizzling steak. "I'm not much of a cook but you, my brother certainly has the talent."
"Like it?"
"Love it," Stefan answered as he cut the first bite of steak.
"How's school?" Damon asked as he took a sip of his wine before sitting down.
"Great," Stefan answered, his smile bursting like sunshine. "Our football team has played well this season. There is a chance we may go national if we continue to be good next season."
"Sounds like fun," Damon said as he chewed on his steak. Then he noticed the faint scar on Stefan's wrist and asked him how he had gotten it.
"That's a burn," Stefan explained.
"A what?"
"A burn. I was in chemistry class and I got burned by a heated test-tube."
"How did that happen? You don't look like someone that careless."
"No. My classmate."
"A careless boy, I bet."
"No, a girl," Stefan answered, smiling at the memory. "It was my own fault. I wasn't paying attention."
Damon's blue eyes brightened with interest. "You weren't paying attention? What were you thinking at that time? Day dreaming?"
"I…I was distracted," Stefan murmured.
"Distracted." Damon's eyes never left his. "Distracted by this girl."
"She is very smart. Straight A student. She likes science. Chemistry and biology in particular."
Stefan's face glowed when he talked about this girl and Damon was instantly curious about the girl who seemed to mean a lot to his younger brother.
"Smart. Straight A student. Pretty?" Damon asked.
Stefan nodded, his expressive features glowing with delight. "Yes, she is pretty. She is gentle, filled with affection. She is very helpful and easy going too. Everyone in the class likes her."
"But you like her a lot."
Stefan's head snapped back.
Damon laughed softly. "You are in love, brother."
"That's ridiculous," Stefan gasped. "We are classmates."
"What's so ridiculous?" Damon poured the last of the bottle of wine into his glass and tossed it down. "Have you asked her out yet?"
"Well," Stefan said with a hesitant smile. "I don't want to scare her off.
"Girls don't sit around waiting for you, brother. You want to keep her around? See her for lunch, evenings, or invite her to parties. Easy as that."
"Really?" Stefan asked curiously. "So simple?"
"Hmm, hmm."
"But she is different. She is not like other girls," Stefan said, her eyes shining. "She is special. She is a pretty special girl."
x x x
NEW YORK JULY 1 2016
"Listen to me, you hard-headed cowboy, I'm not going to let you cross the line." Alaric watched Damon paced in his office. It worried him that Damon had skated so close to edge in his determined hunt for Stefan's killer. "I understand your frustration."
"Frustration?!" Damon shoved a hand through his hair. He was as tight as Alaric had ever seen him. "I have lost my brother. My brother died."
The news of Stefan's death really hit Damon. Alaric knew it wouldn't be easy for Damon to come to grips with his brother's tragic death.
Except it wasn't tragic. It was a brutal murder. And Damon was going to bring the man behind the shooting to justice.
The information had come back that the drive-by shooting was no random act. Both Stefan and Luke were the intended targets. Rumours had it that both Stefan and Luke had stolen from the mob boss Marko rumoured to control the drug cartels of the entire State of Virginia. But Damon didn't believe the rumours.
"It must be a mistake!" Damon roared. "Stefan would never get involved with the drug dealers. Never!"
"You may not want to believe it," Alaric said. "The police in Richmond had already started an investigation on this case six months ago. This is a big case. Huge. Stefan and Luke embezzled millions from Marko over the last one year. Luke gambled most of it away but Stefan had hidden the money away somewhere."
"I don't' believe you." Damon shook his head in quick, vigorous denial. "Stefan was a good doctor. He was. He would never deal with someone like Marko."
"We also have information provided by the undercover agents proving that the supply of drugs came from Mystic Falls Hospital." Alaric explain, then hesitated a split second, surveying Damon with a considering glance. "Stefan and Luke were the suspects."
"No," Damon choked out.
"Stefan was the head of Emergency Department of Mystic Falls Hospital. Luke was his assistant. They could easily get their hands on the drugs. It is well known there are many cases of doctors illegally selling prescription drugs to dealers and addicts."
Damon wanted to deny it, to argue with him, but Alaric shoved a photo to his face. Damon recognised the faces. A laughing Stefan was drinking beer with Marko. "Yesterday the Richmond police had busted a small-time crack dealer. In an attempt to beat the rap, the doper let drop that he had witnessed Stefan and Marko together. The dealer also confirmed Marko has been getting his supply of drugs from Mystic Falls Hospital in the last one year."
Stefan and Luke were dumb enough to think they could steal from Marko and get away with it. It was a mistake obviously. A deadly mistake.
"You can't turn this into a personal hunt," Alaric said.
"You don't have much of a choice." Damon glared at him. "You have to admit, I'm the logical choice. I know Mystic Falls very well. I grew up there. I know everyone in town. It would be damn easy for me to get close to anyone."
"But…"
"Damon is right." A voice appeared at the doorway. It was Isobel, Alaric's wife and the assistant chief of DEA in New York. "We have to mount this raid on Marko's operation."
Alaric looked at his wife then back to Damon before pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Looks like I don't have much of a choice."
"You will be working deep undercover in Mystic Falls so Marko will not suspect." Isobel went on. "By the way, you know Elena Gilbert right? Your brother's fiancée."
Damon went as still as a sniper waiting to take the shot. "You think she is involved?"
"We don't know. I doubt anybody could be with a man for so long and keep out of his business, but you never know. That's what we want you to figure out."
Nobody was innocent. If Damon had learned one indisputable lesion in the last ten years, it was that.
"Why don't you just haul her in for questioning?"
Isobel paused. "We don't want to expose ourselves yet at this stage. We can't let Marko know DEA is involved."
"If Stefan really took the money, then Elena will be in danger, won't she?" Damon finally said very softly. "Dammit!"
"The PD in Mystic Falls will keep an eye on her," Isobel reassured him. "Only Alaric and I would know you are not just taking an extended bereavement leave."
"Look, Damon," Alaric said. "If you don't feel that you are in a position to take up this undercover, we will find someone else."
"No," Damon said. "You won't find anyone else. I will do it. I have to do it. I have to do it for Stefan and Elena. I'm also doing it for myself."