This is a double final chapter (I could have split this, but I feel it reads better as one). There is an important epilogue, which is why I haven't marked the story as complete.
Atlanta Burns
Chapter 7: Under the Stars
Undoubtedly Elena calling his brother's name had been what saved Stefan's life. From the viewing gallery he could see that Stefan had reacted and stepped towards her just as Klaus' crossbow bolt whistled past his left ear and thudded into the wall behind him. That did it. Enough was enough. He couldn't just sit idly by and watch Elena face down two dangerous, unpredictable killers. If he was going to die today, then so help him God, it would be protecting her.
He wrenched open the gallery door without unlocking it first and ran down the stairs three at a time.
Like a salmon swimming upstream he shoved his way through the blood soaked mob running the other way - people were too hysterical to realize that the cause of their hysteria was amongst them. Someone had pulled the fire alarm and now the whole building was evacuating. It was complete and utter chaos. He called out Elena's name over and over, but couldn't see her. By the time he finally pushed his way into the studio, the three people he sought were alone.
Klaus wandered over to the remaining working camera and unhooked the power cable. The image on the screens above died and went to static.
"Nice of you to finally join us, Damon. Did you enjoy the show?" Klaus said without even looking up, confirming he had known of his presence the whole time.
"Not really my cup of tea."
"Pity. Personally I thought it was most illuminating." Klaus finally looked at him, and he felt the power of the Original's gaze move over him. There was a pause whilst they considered each other.
"Let them live, Klaus. I don't care what you do to me." The supernatural in front of him began to laugh; it was a deep and throaty chuckle.
"Oh Damon, you don't get it, do you? I have no interest in your precious brother or his little girlfriend. Besides, I don't think I could care about them quite as much as you do, could I?" As per Klaus' intention, the slightly lascivious emphasis on the final part of that sentence was not lost on him. So the Original was using how he felt about Elena against him? Of course he was. He'd didn't miss a trick. He was two steps ahead of them and then some. Klaus continued, "In about two hours time, when the studio staff have the guts to come back, they will crawl over the bodies of their dead just to reach the material recorded on that camera." He pointed to the camera he had just unplugged. "And that lovely little home-video of you I think will compliment the footage quite nicely. So photogenic, you and your brother. I really am quite envious. All I can hope for is that the camera caught my good side."
"You don't have one."
"Oh, that's very droll, Damon. Perhaps I underestimated your intelligence after all." The Original smiled, before the smile clean fell away. He walked over to collect his bag of tricks and slung it over his shoulder. "You know what, I will rather enjoy watching your progress now that the world is paying attention." His mouth cracked once more into that same dead-eyed phony expression. He began to walk to the back of the stage, but then turned around and added with genuine enthusiasm, "You know, I like this era, don't you? It's never boring is it?"
"I will come for you, Klaus. One day."
At that, the Original threw back his head and laughed heartily. "Oh, Damon. I like you. And that is why I am giving you what I believe hunters call 'a sporting chance'." He began to move again, whistling a jaunty tune as he strolled towards the exit. He paused at the door and added, "Goodbye children and good luck. I mean that most sincerely." He stepped over a fallen body and was gone.
Stefan was staring at Elena as if she were an hors d'oeuvre, and his body had automatically moved into a pounce position; the scent of her blood was driving him wild.
"Back off, Stefan. We are all walking out of here. Alive."
He looked at his brother. No, this empty shell wasn't his brother. This was what was left when there was no human to balance out the vampire. Even when he had been the Ripper before, he had never lost what had made him pass as human. That is what had made him so damned notorious. But now, he was just a beast; a bundle of predatory instincts and reactions - emotion didn't enter into it. He frowned. Could Elena draw Stefan out? Could either of them? They had no time to find out.
"Damon, let me speak to him." Elena whispered from behind him, her breath tickling his ear.
"No. He doesn't recognize you."
"He reacted when I called his name."
"We have to leave. People are coming."
"I am doing it, Damon." She said stubbornly and moved out from position her behind him. His eyes didn't leave Stefan, if he pounced, it sure wasn't going to be Elena's throat he would find.
"Stefan. It's me, your little angel." She said, coloring. "You remember, don't you?" Stefan's eyes glinted malevolently, but he remained mute.
"Elena, there is no more time, we have to -"
"Elena?" When his brother spoke, his voice was as soft as a whisper. "Elena..." Stefan said again, more insistently this time. It sounded as though Stefan were on the verge of tears. To his side he could sense that Elena had taken a step towards his brother, and in turn his brother took a step towards her. Oh no, he wasn't having that. He stepped between them again.
"Damon, please!" She said with exasperation, her shortness of breath painfully evident. "Get out of the way."
"Not a chance." He said over his shoulder, his eyes still on his brother who looked confused.
"Damon, I may not make it home," she whispered, "you have to let me go to him."
"No. Nobody else is dying today." He felt for her wrist behind him and grabbed it tight so she could not move away. He spoke instead. "Stefan, please brother, listen to me now. If you love this woman as much as you say you do, you know that she isn't safe around you at the moment. I can get you both out of here, but you have to do what I say." He looked for signs of life in Stefan, but was met with vacant eyes. "Elena." He lowered his voice to address her, but he could tell she was pulling away from him. She cried out in pain. A cramp made her fold double. He released her wrist and spun around to face her. Outside sirens began to wail. The sense of time running out began to overwhelm him.
"You have to let me carry you." He didn't like the note of panic in his own voice.
"No." Damn her stubbornness!
"Please!" If he had to, he was not too proud to beg. He looked towards the door. They had only moments; he could hear that the emergency services had entered the main gates. "I need to get you out of here. We have to move."
"Leave me here. Maybe dying is the only way to escape this nightmare." She was almost on her knees now. Her forehead was covered in a sheen of sweat. Her hand gripped the chairs to her right, hard. Stefan watched her intently. She flicked her eyes to his brother before gripping her stomach once more in pain.
"You don't want to die." He said, more certain of that than anything he had ever said. He put his hands on either side of her waist and carefully lifted her to her feet. He sought her eyes, but she looked away. "Elena, I am asking you to trust me. Please. I know I don't deserve it, but I am asking for it. I may not have your heart, but I am only asking for a single moment of your trust. Please Elena, let me get you and my brother out of here." Finally she looked at him, the pain running deep inside her made her bite down on the inside of her cheek. He pressed his point home. "We made a pact, you and I, and I for one, intend to stick to it." He used her own words against her and she knew it. She gazed at him now with a thoughtful expression and eventually, she nodded.
She was off her feet and in his arms before her nod was complete. He was shocked at the amount of weight she had lost. She placed her left arm gently around his neck and her head rested against his chest. He could smell just how much the poison had weakened her system. And now she had let him lift her, he could tell she had stopped fighting her slow decline. She was running out of time. He turned to Stefan behind him, who was eyeing them both warily.
"Stefan, you need to follow behind. We will be moving fast."
He charged towards the doors, and was half surprised when Stefan followed. Maybe he only did so because he sensed his source of food was in front of him.
The private jets were supposed to leave from Belgrade airport. The fastest way to get there meant taking a cab. He couldn't risk going to the front of the TV station where lots of cabs were gathered, in case any of the studio audience had found their way there and would recognize them.
"I have to get us a cab, Elena. I must put you down." She nodded and he deposited her gently on the curbside and she immediately crumpled down on the ground. He grabbed Stefan by his lapel and dragged him towards the road. They would have to flag a cab down. Stefan went meekly, but looked behind him to where Elena sat with her head resting on her knees. She looked away from them both.
It took ten precious minutes for a cab to finally come over to them. He hustled Stefan into the back of the car and told the driver to wait. Running back to Elena, he helped her to her feet. She leaned on him heavily now.
"Is the driver safe?" She whispered.
"No. You have to hurry." They walked as fast as she could and he put her in the front seat. It was a relief to see Stefan had not moved from where he had been left, but he watched Elena arrive with interest. Still his brother didn't speak.
"Belgrade airport." He said, thinking if Stefan made any sudden moves towards Elena, he would have to kill him. His heart was heavy with the responsibility.
At the privately entranced airfield, they were met at their car by two uniformed pilots, and a pair of besuited flight attendants. One held a handful of papers in his hands.
"Good evening, sir." An attendant said in heavily Serbian inflected English. "We have your papers, and we are cleared for flight."
"Thank you. I wonder if I could ask you to handle a rather sensitive matter which requires some discretion?"
"Yes of course, sir."
"My traveling companion doesn't enjoy flying and may have had a few too many drinks for Dutch courage, I would be grateful if you could keep an eye on her." The man smiled knowingly.
"No problem, sir. We will make sure she is comfortable."
"I appreciate that."
"I will see to your luggage."
"No luggage."
"Very well, sir. We are ready for final checks from Customs if you are happy to board." The man moved towards Elena, who was still in the cab and put an arm around her, helping take her across the one hundred yards of tarmac to the waiting jet. For safety, she would be traveling alone, while he babysat Stefan in the second jet - something inside him turned over as he watched her go. She didn't look back. As she passed out of his sight, he felt his anxiety grow. This marked more than the end of their journey together, it was something else - indefinable, but definitely there.
Meanwhile Stefan at his side was moving his head like a predator, taking in all the movement around him. With Elena safely inside her plane, he grabbed his brother's arm and marched him up the stairs to their own.
There was something surreal about the comfort and luxury he now found himself in; being attended on and served fresh-ground coffee from delicate, china cups, when he wasn't even wearing his own clothes. His brother looked equally lost. For the first four hours of the flight, Stefan sat on the edge of his leather chair, staring anxiously from the window to the flight attendant and back, his right leg jiggling up and down. When the attendant finally joined the pilot in the locked security of the cabin, at last they could both relax. His brother automatically calmer now the scent of human blood had moved away.
He noticed that Stefan hadn't drunk any of his coffee, instead allowing it to cool in the cup in front of him. Maybe there really was nothing left of his human self? No. He didn't want to believe that. He suspected that Stefan had deliberately shut himself off in order to deal with the horrific things he had to do. Given time, maybe he would unlock the parts he had buried. Perhaps putting him into Katherine's care was not such a bad thing? She did care for Stefan and was strong enough to deal with him. But if he was honest, he knew Katherine's motives weren't exactly pure and maybe if he was truly honest, maybe his own weren't either.
Sitting back in his chair, he closed his eyes and let his thoughts naturally wander to Elena. Earlier he had asked the attendant to call through to the other plane and check on her and apparently she had been sleeping. That had set his mind at rest. He wondered if she would ever be able to look at him in that same way again now she had seen him kill Costel? It was one thing to know - it was quite another to see.
He was confused by his feelings for her. When she was at risk, or hurting, he felt a deep physical pain. Letting her down made him feel deeply ashamed. Before he met her, he had totally forgotten what guilt felt like, now that feeling regularly made an unwelcome appearance. Conversely, when he made her laugh, it was like someone switched on a light inside of him.
He ran a hand over his face. On this day alone, he felt he had aged more that a couple of hundred years. Ironic really, given the object of his affections was still just a child. Heck, she wasn't even old enough to legally drink! Did that make his attraction creepy? Morally wrong? He suspected it didn't since that wasn't how vampirism worked; it kind of froze you at the age you died - you just got to be that age for a very long time. Certainly his brother had never expressed any guilt in dating her. And she thought of them both as young men, not old souls. Besides, he knew deep down that she felt attracted to him - but then he suspected it was easy when you were seventeen to have your head turned by a man who knew what he wanted and actively pursued it. In life and love, she was still feeling her way. And that was her right.
There was one thing he was fairly sure of though, if she had been sure that Stefan was 'the one', then she would have turned for him. No question. To him, it appeared as though she was hedging her bets - keeping her options open. But maybe her options included cutting both the serial killers out of her life. Who would blame her? And if he loved her, then surely he wanted her to be happy, have a normal life... but somehow he couldn't quite make himself believe that her life should not involve him. Perhaps he just wanted that too much.
As for him, well, he never had been blessed with any patience. Never waited for anything - he wanted the here and now and would pay for it tomorrow. He thrived on the immediate, on being impulsive; if he were ever to have a motto it would be 'don't fret about the consequences' - but slowly and surely, she was eroding that. She made him think - if not exactly before he acted, at least after it. Maybe she was eroding him. He wondered if that was a good thing, to be held in such sway? He had long since felt captive to these feelings. Now though, he found himself shocked to find that he was actually considering whether he could wait. Could he let her find her way to him? He had never waited for a woman before, never wanted to. He wondered what that would mean. Maybe his wait would be fruitless anyway, perhaps she would move on and marry a hot-shot banker, have 2.4 children and a dog... but somehow he doubted it. Because if she was that sort of person, neither he (or his brother) would be attracted to her in the first place.
What was it about her anyway? If he could break the mystery, maybe he could expel it. She was beautiful - yes, but his life had not been short of beautiful girls. She was smart beyond her years, but he had dated smarter. She was sweet and thoughtful, vibrant and passionate - all things that he knew were attractive to him, but that did not explain why he held her in such thrall. So it was something else, a thing that he just couldn't unravel. He only knew that when she looked at him, he was defenseless. His mind hummed with thoughts of pulling her close and slipping his tongue between her soft, yielding lips. He wanted to fall into bed with her and make love to her, not for an hour or two, but for days upon days. He knew he would give her every part of himself, just to bury his nose in the crook of her neck and kiss her soft skin.
He looked up and saw her smiling at him. She slipped the straps off her own lace nightgown, but he caught it before it fell. He looked into her eyes, and she told him to let it go -
"Please fasten your seat belts." The pilots voice came over the intercom making him wake with a start. He didn't remember the point at which he had fallen asleep. "We don't wish to alarm you, sir, but we have had some pretty disturbing reports coming out of America and we may have problems landing in your chosen airport."
He shook off the sudden tiredness and pressed the button to speak to the pilot.
"What kind of reports?"
"Civil unrest, sir. A number of airports have been shut down. We hope to find you an airport in Virginia still, but your chosen one is closed due to rioting."
He fell back in his chair. What the...?
"Blood." His brother was looking at him, the word seemed to be a request.
"There isn't any, Stefan. No blood." He said, not unkindly. It was the first word Stefan had spoken to him since they had found him. He felt sad and confused. America was supposed to be their safe haven, now it appeared that Elena wasn't the only one who was poisoned. Clearly it had spread.
He thought about those at home. Were they safe? Had he done the right thing by Jeremy? Would his ghosts look after him, or put him in the path of harm? Could Liz keep Blondie safe? Would Bonnie be protected by the witches? Would Alaric hold it together, or would his grief allow him to fall apart?
And then, there was Katherine. He thought about her. He thought about the promise he made. She had upheld her end of the bargain and he knew he must do the same, but equally, he knew what that meant. He wouldn't let Katherine and Stefan out of his sight. And Elena's anger with him would be a thing to behold.
He went over to Stefan and did up his seatbelt, his brother looked at him and as he was about to sit back down, his wrist was grabbed. He hesitated and looked into Stefan's eyes.
"Damon?"
"Hello, little brother." He put his free hand on his brother's shoulder and squeezed it affectionately. Stefan's green eyes searched his for a moment, he released his wrist and then he seemed to retreat back into himself. He went to sit down and was surprised at how grateful and relieved he felt. Stefan was in there somewhere. Perhaps today was not as hopeless as he feared. He strapped himself in.
"Sir, we have permission to land in Atlanta." The pilot's voice came on. Atlanta? Crap. That would take them hours to get home.
"Sure. Thanks for letting me know." He was about to take his finger off the talk button, when he thought to add one more remark. "Do you have any idea yet what is causing the rioting?"
"Well sir, we were told something - but it sounds kind of unlikely to us."
"Was it to do with mind-controlling vampires?"
"Yes sir. How did you know?"
"Lucky guess." He hung up.
Shit.
"Hi, Blondie."
"You can't call here!"
"No, no - don't hang up! Please, Caroline."
"They may be tracing this call. It's not safe for you to call here."
"What's going on?"
"The news Damon, you're everywhere. What have you done?" The latter was not a question, but a statement of shear horror. "You can't come back here. There are Feds crawling all over your home. They have Jeremy in custody. They'll come for Bonnie and I soon, but they won't find us." He hit the phone handset off his forehead when he heard that. His mind racing. "Are you still there?" She said.
"Yes."
"Did you get them out?"
"Yes."
"Then keep them away from here. When you are safe, find a way to tell me where you are. I'll come to you when I can."
"Are you safe?"
"For now. I have to go."
"Blondie?"
"Yes?"
"Run if you have to."
"I will." He heard her breathing. She was scared. "I have to go."
"Take care."
"You too."
"Ric."
"Hang up. I think they're tracing my calls."
"They can't trace this one." He thought, one benefit from being in the air. "Christ Ric, what is going on?"
"Damon, you have really started something now. From that footage of you they worked out about compelling and within an hour people started fighting, saying people were trying to control their minds. Its insanity, and its global. They came to school, took Jeremy away for questioning. I'm sorry, I couldn't stop them. They say I'm not a relative. Besides, I'm probably next."
Holy crap. He began to shake.
"You have to go underground. Disappear for a while." His friend advised.
"Ric, its Elena... She's sick, really sick." There was a brief silence on the other end.
"I'll come. Where are you?"
"We are going to land in Atlanta. Hartsfield-Jackson International, private entrance."
"That's six or seven hours drive... If I don't turn up to school today, they will suspect me too. That's what its like."
"Alaric, I think she's slipping away." His voice cracked.
"I have a friend, an old family friend. He used to be a doctor but he is retired now; I think he still lives in Atlanta. I'll ask him to collect you - take you wherever you need to go. He shouldn't really drive, but -"
"Thank you."
"What's wrong with her?"
"She's been poisoned."
"What kind of poison?"
"I don't know - the man I killed in the film you saw, he put it in her food." Alaric went quiet.
"I see." He said, the edge in his voice softening. "Are you okay? And Stefan?"
"I'm fine. Stefan... not so good."
"I thought that might be the case. Damon, whatever you do, remember you can't compel people. And be careful. Everyone knows your face."
"What about the doctor?"
"He has cataracts, but you are going to have to be careful. If he suspects you're a vampire - I can't help you."
"Alaric, you may need to leave too."
"I'm staying, for Jeremy. I'll get him a lawyer. And they're going to come for me anyway."
"Ric, I'm sorry. For everything."
"Damon, just stay safe okay. Contact me when you land. Let the phone ring three times then hang up."
"Okay."
"Damon, I'll see you soon." He said, more a statement of intent than fact. It was supposed to reassure him, but it scared him more. "Keep safe my friend." He said. He hung up.
He watched as the old man stepped out of the car, straightening both his his back and a stiff left leg, but despite his shock of white hair and the cataracts that plagued his eyes, the man had the air of someone who was used to being held in some authority.
With Elena lying quiet in his arms, he stood waiting with his hood pulled up. Stefan hovered behind him like a nervous beast who had been cornered and captured. The doctor approached and his medical instincts took over as soon as he saw Elena lying prone. His hand went to her forehead before he had even introduced himself.
"How long has she been running this temperature?"
"Twenty-four hours. But she's been poisoned for weeks."
"Weeks? Well why the hell didn't you do something about it?"
"Its complicated."
"I can't believe you'd be so irresponsible." The old man reprimanded. "Put her in the car. We need to get her to a hospital. Right away."
"No. No hospitals." Elena spoke, her voice a mere whisper.
"Elena, please. We need to get you to a hospital."
"Its too risky for you." She argued.
"Young lady, you need treatment and you need it now. I can't guarantee I can help you." The old man said.
"No hospitals. Damon, promise me." He looked pained.
"Well?" Said the old man.
"Can you treat her?" He asked.
"Well, I don't know. I need more information. I need equipment, probably a charcoal solution..." The man became fretful.
In the airport behind him, was the urgent sound of sirens. He had to get them away from so public a place.
"We need to go. Shall I drive?"
"Yes. I'm not supposed to drive anyway. I'll get in the back with the girl and do what I can." The doctor's eyes flicked to Stefan. "What's his story?"
"Afghanistan."
"Should've brought our boys back a long time ago." The doctor mumbled, then went to take Elena from his arms - but he pulled back.
"I'm stronger than I look, son. She'll be okay with me. You take the keys and you get the boy in the car."
"Is there are an observatory near here?" He asked the doctor.
"Well, let me see now. There's a planetarium, but its quite a long way out. A couple of hours drive from here."
"Then we better get going."
On the freeway, it was impossible not to notice the abandoned cars and the queues of traffic getting out of the city. Throughout the journey, Elena moaned. The doctor asked her numerous questions and performed a cursory examination. He opened an ancient black medical bag and gave her some drugs, but he warned her they would only ease the pain, not provide a cure. He asked a lot of questions in general and it was clear that he didn't buy her story that they had been back-packing through Europe when she had gotten ill. For one, they had no luggage, which looked suspicious from the outset. And secondly, when on earth did backpackers arrive back into the country on private jets? The doctor's eyes flicked towards him and his brother more than once, and it seemed his suspicions were growing.
"You know, I'd really lost touch with Alaric. I haven't spoken to him or his family in quite a few years." The doc said. "I suppose you must be a good friend of his for him to call me out of the blue like that."
"Uh-huh." He said, non-committaly.
"Lot of trouble down in Mystic, so I hear."
"We need gas." He interrupted, relieved that it was not a lie. "I'm gonna pull over."
The gas station had queues back to the freeway. He waited impatiently in line, constantly checking his mirror for Elena's progress (she had begun retching again) and when he got to the front, he tried to ignore the fights breaking out. As he filled his tank, he was breaking into a cold sweat. If the doctor happened to see the newspapers that he and Stefan were on the cover of every one of, then the doc could raise the alarm and they would all be dead. It was clear that the atmosphere was like a tinderbox.
He kept his hood up and his head down. When he walked in the gas station, he felt grateful that the attendant was feeling too harassed to pay him any attention. Customers were stripping the shelves as well as filling their gas tanks and the cash register was ringing heartily. He found a phone and made a quick call.
He tried to relax, blend and convince anyone who cared to notice him that he was just some ordinary Joe, and not enemy no.1. No eye-contact, no compelling. He also had to allay any suspicions the doctor may have that he and his brother were anything but human. That thought gave him an idea...
When he got to the car, his arms were laden with drinks and snacks. The smell of fake cheese from the nachos he had bought was completely nauseating, but he knew it had to be done. When he got back in the car, he handed the nachos to his brother, a bottle of water to Elena, and opened a bag of chips of his own. He greedily stuffed a fistful into his mouth.
"Hey, you should eat." He said to Stefan. "Bet you didn't get nachos when you were in Kabul, right?" Stefan looked at the food in his hand like it was alien to him. So he grabbed a nacho from the top of the pile and shoveled it in his own mouth. "Mmm, nachos, I've missed you." He said whilst giving Stefan his best pleading look until eventually his brother got the message and mimicked his movements, and raised a nacho to his mouth. His brother chewed the food slowly like the concept was alien to him.
He offered his own bag of chips to the doctor, but he shook his head, "I'm busy." he said somewhat huffily, but it seemed to work in that the old man relaxed and began concentrating on Elena again. In the driver's mirror, he caught Elena's eye. She managed a smile, before a cramp took hold of her again. He started the engine.
At the top of the hill, he could see Atlanta in the distance. The airport was probably closed now. Fires were breaking out for miles around. Even as far up as this, he could hear the sounds of rioting. Military helicopters flew overhead. He sat down, or maybe his knees buckled beneath him. Either way, he found himself on the ground. Stefan remained in the car and in front of him Elena lay flat on the ground whilst the doctor listened to her heart through an ancient stethoscope.
He knelt down, took her hand in his and squeezed it.
"I've made her as comfortable as I can," the old man said, standing stiffly, "I don't think there is much more I can do for her. She needs a hospital. Proper treatment. Monitoring. I can't do that here."
"Damon..." She said. He leaned down closer to her mouth.
"What is it, Lennie?" He used the name he had taken to calling her. It was the product of some little joke they had shared together and had stuck.
"Look after Jeremy when I'm gone." He winced and gave her an angry look.
"You can look after him yourself."
She gave him a wan smile. "I never said thank you, did I?" She said. "For bringing us home."
"Don't talk now. Save your energy." He moved her hair off her face where it was sticking. It felt like someone was pulling his heart out with their bare hands. No - he hadn't cried in fifty years, he wasn't about to start now.
She closed her eyes and he used the cuff of his hoodie to wipe the sweat from her brow. She moaned and he looked at the doctor.
"Can't you help her? Give her something for the pain?"
"I've given her more than she should have had already."
Suddenly anger overwhelmed him, perhaps he was tired, but he lost control.
"She's in pain, goddamn it! There must be something else you can do. Fix her!" His vampire eyes came without him meaning for them to. The doctor took a step back.
"Calm down, son. I may not see too well, but I'm no idiot. I know who you three are. I won't tell anyone, but I'm going to leave. You stay back now." He began to edge backwards towards the car, which Stefan was currently getting out of. The doctor moved to the driver's side, keeping a wary eye on them both. He was about to get in when he said, "Keep her hydrated." He got inside and pulled away.
Down at his side, Elena stirred. His features retracted and he moved to sit behind her, gently moving her so she that she could sit between his outstretched legs and lean against him, her head against his chest. He rocked her a little and kissed the top of her head. He offered her water, but she refused it, saying, "Never a dull moment around you, George." Which was her silly little name for him. He pulled her tight into his arms.
"Quiet now, Lennie. Nobody wants to hear you going on." She smiled. He kissed the top of her head.
"What are those lights out there?"
"Fires."
She watched them for a while, and he kissed the crown of her head again. "It's kinda pretty." She said.
"Yeah, I guess it is." Stefan - lurking nearby - stared at them both. "Stefan, come over here." He said eventually, for he believed now that his brother would do her no harm. His brother came towards them hesitantly and when he was beside them, he reached for his hand and tugged it gently, so Stefan had to come down to meet them both on the ground. He knelt awkwardly and Elena moved her head slightly to face him. She put her hand out to touch his brother's face, but at first Stefan flinched away. When she persisted, eventually he let her caress his face.
"I've missed you." She said simply. If Stefan understood, he didn't say so.
"I'm cold." She said suddenly; he peeled off his hoodie and put it around her. Underneath he wore a Grateful Dead t-shirt. It had seemed funny this morning when he had bought it straight off the back of a student in the hostel. She had laughed when she had seen it, "Very you." She had said.
It was beginning to get dark. The lights came on across the city and stars began to show themselves. Elena closed her eyes and he couldn't tell if she was sleeping or not. He kept very still and Stefan looked at him.
"You need blood don't you?" He said to his brother and Stefan nodded.
As he did so, he could hear a motorbike arriving in the near distance. He knew who it was before she walked over the crest of the hill. He felt a pang of anger run through him as Katherine strode towards them, the picture of beauty and health, her dark waves of silky hair bobbing on her shoulders as she walked. She was dressed in leathers, with a shiny black motorbike helmet under her arm. Her double in his arms sensed his anxiety and looked up at him.
"What is it?" She said. Then looked where his gaze was. "What's she doing here?" She grew anxious and tried to wriggle out of his arms. He didn't answer her, just held her tight. "Damon, what's she doing here?" She asked again, more insistent this time. She made a Herculean effort to get up, but she was immensely weak and it barely took any pressure at all to keep her where she was. As he did so, he felt his heart pound. Stefan had not yet looked around, he was still looking intently at Elena.
Katherine had nearly reached them. She took a quick look at the three of them and raised an eyebrow.
"Fuck." She said simply.
"What is she doing here, Damon?" Elena was growing distressed in his arms. He held her tight as she moved against him.
"You haven't told her?" Katherine said, a wry smile on her face.
"Just do what you have to do and leave." He said.
"What's wrong with her?" She asked him.
"Nothing!" Elena spat back at her.
"Oh sure, I can see that." Katherine said, her voice thick with irony.
"Just go!" He pleaded.
Elena in his arms, cried out as another cramp took her. She began to cough, leaned over his leg and spat on the ground. There was blood. Her hand shook as she wiped the back of her mouth. Even Katherine looked concerned.
"Elena!" He said. He had never felt so bloody helpless. "Have some water." She shook her head. "I'm not asking you!" He said bossily, but she pushed the bottle he offered her away. It fell on the ground and spilled. Stefan fidgeted beside them. Her skin was almost glassy and her eyes didn't quite focus when she blinked. He stroked her hair almost obsessively. Christ, he was hurting. This helplessness, this feeling of not being able to help her was overwhelming.
"Damon," she said, her voice almost a whisper, "don't kill any of the cows. I like the cows. I like the smell of them."
"I won't." He said. He grabbed Stefan's hand and he gave it to her.
"Stefan, I don't think we should sit next to each other in chemistry any more, I'm finding it hard to concentrate." He watched as Stefan gripped Elena's hand, maybe he knew what was happening, maybe he didn't. He was quiet though and looking at them both intently.
"Jer, tell mom when she gets home, that I have put the wash on." Elena said.
"Good grief." Katherine said. He looked daggers at her and she grew quiet.
He kissed Elena again and squeezed her hand. "Don't worry so much. Its all taken care of." He said, feeling like his tongue was swelling inside his mouth. His eyes stung, his heart felt like it was trying to climb out his ribcage.
"Damon, I love you." She said. At that, he burst into tears, they streamed down his face and into her hair. "Stefan, I love you too." Another cramp took her, but this time, she didn't even have the strength to bend. Her body stiffened and then when it passed, she relaxed like a rag doll in his arms.
"Why don't you just turn her?" Katherine asked.
"Because its not what she wants." He said angrily, stroking Elena's head. Katherine shrugged. He brushed the tears angrily from his face with the palm of his hand.
"Jer?"
"He's not here, Lennie."
"I guess he's at practice. I think he likes Bonnie you know." She whispered conspiratorially, she gave a little giggle.
His tears refused to stop coming. Suddenly he wanted to hold Stefan, he reached an arm out for his brother and pulled him into his embrace. Elena lay quietly between them.
"Lennie," he whispered to her, "do you know how loved you are?"
She didn't answer. She was gone.
His cry echoed through the valley. He pushed his face back into the neck of his brother and sobbed. Stefan brought his hand up and touched his shoulder. Elena lay dead between them. Katherine shifted uncomfortably, but she waited for a good five minutes before she eventually touched Stefan on his back and said, "Come with me, Stefan. We should go."
He was reluctant to let Stefan go, physically or mentally. He gripped him tight wanting the familiar smell of him, the sense of his being. He had missed him, he realized now. Every minute they had been in Serbia he had worried about him - the footage, the photos, the trail of his brother's destruction had all bitten deep into his heart. He understood all of Stefan's actions, but it didn't stop his regret. Katherine leaned down and put her hands under Stefan's armpits and lifted him out of his own clinging arms. He was sobbing hard now, he returned his hug to Elena, rested his face on her own, burying his nose in her hair. That place in the crook of her neck that he loved so much. She barely smelled like herself any more. All he could smell was the sickness.
Katherine had the decency to say "I'm sorry for your loss, Damon." She must have taken Stefan's hand and tried to walk away, because suddenly Stefan ran back to them both. His brother knelt down beside him and kissed Elena's cheek, then got up and walked away. Katherine took a final look over at him and Elena, and then followed her new ward. He heard the roar of a motorbike engine and then he knew he was truly alone.
He got to his feet stiffly and lifted Elena's body into his arms. He walked to the planetarium and kicked the door in. He entered the darkened auditorium with its doomed roof, walked down the stairs into the centre of the space and placed her body on the ground. That was when he noticed she had something in her hand; he opened her fingers and found a small white pebble. He closed her fingers around it again. He then looked up and found the projection room, and broke in. He found the machine which started the light show and started the program. The lights began to kick in with a mechanical whirring sound and on the ceiling a galaxy of stars revealed themselves in all their swirling beauty, their light reflecting on her face. A voiceover began to talk about 'a journey through time and space' in a deep and soothing monotone. He leaned under the control desk, pulled a handful of electrical cables from their housing and touched them together until they sparked. He did it again, until eventually a plug caught fire. He walked out of the room, leaving the door open so oxygen would feed the fire. It soon caught, and he sat down on a bench in the circular auditorium and looked at his beautiful Elena, with the stars above her. In the control room, the flames started to crackle and leap. Eventually, the fire broke the control room windows and flaming debris fell into the auditorium. A bench caught alight and then it spread to another. Soon the room around him began to fill with choking acrid smoke and bright orange flames. He waited until it was clear he could wait no more, stood up and moved towards the exit slowly, taking a final look back at Elena's body. He turned away and walked outside, just as series of electrical explosions rocked the planetarium behind him. As he walked away, he felt the heat behind him. He wondered if he should have stayed behind with her, but he didn't want to leave Stefan and he had made a promise to take care of Jeremy.
When he was far enough away, he turned back and watched the fire as it consumed the building. He crumpled to the ground and rested his arms on his knees. He was numb; numb and alone. The world was burning all around him. All he had left was her blood moving inside him like a whisper. He lowered himself onto his side and pressed his face against the dirt. He let the tiredness take him and drifted into sleep. When he dreamed, he dreamed of her.
"Come on," she said, "don't give up."
