Guilty Until Proven Innocent
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Summary: Recently released from prison for a crime she didn't commit, Elena returns to Mystic Falls to clear her name to the people who matter, one of whom includes a blue eyed, raven haired man who once stole her heart, but will he listen to her after believing for two years she was the sole reason his family fell apart? DE. Angst aplenty.
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Chapter 8
We Have No Past, We Won't Reach Back
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Damon had this terrible habit of walking by his mother's house and just staring. Often, he'd be at his most volatile when taking these trips, often staring moodily at the walls of a house he'd grown up in. Occasionally, he'd see Stefan through the window, and his anger would curdle in the pit of his stomach. Remembering that last fight, the one which had effectively knocked them all apart like they were skittles, still riled him up. They'd always been somewhat dysfunctional, but then again weren't all families dysfunctional to a degree? You had to have a degree of conflict within that family dynamic to give you a reason to bind yourselves together.
He'd been surprised by his father's agreement to let his wife keep the house after their divorce. It would fetch a tidy profit years down the line, what with the amount of land which surrounded it. The house itself seemed to leap from a different era altogether. It was fairly extensive in nature, which he'd learned as a child had been because it had once been a boarding house. His father had once harboured the idea of using it as such again, but the trial period they'd given that idea hadn't gone so well; in short, his father had decided he'd barely tolerated his own family living in between its walls, let alone anyone else.
It was a beautiful building, although it looked incredibly lonely, situated in seemingly the middle of nowhere with nothing but woods guarding it. It spread out lengthways, encompassing much of the land it had a claim to, and it sang of home, even if it had never looked like a conventional one. Damon could still envision the memories of himself and Stefan playing football out here until it grew dark, laying under the stars afterwards, strangely exhilarated. He could still smell the concoction of enticing aromas from the kitchen, where his mother would bake pie after pie, the sound of singing flooding out of the house as if she'd stepped straight out of a Disney movie.
Those were the only times she'd ever been truly happy, he now realised flatly: when she was cooking. Every other memory he recalled, she had never truly allowed herself to smile as freely as perhaps she wanted to, and that was perhaps down to his father. The relationship between his parents had been strained at best, argumentative at worst. They'd maintained a civil facade right up until the day his world had been changed for the worse, and then they'd simply divided in a motion so slick, it was almost like they'd been cut clean by a single slice of a knife.
He sat there on a nearby bench just south of the house, brooding heavily, hating the fact that he'd ended up on his father's side in the middle of this. How ironic was that? The man had never shown one flicker of emotion his way his entire life, and yet when push came to shove he'd chosen to remain by his side because for some damn reason, a part of him still craved his approval. Well, that was all shot to hell now. His father would never forgive him for making him look like a fool in front of his esteemed business colleagues.
In a strange sort of way, it was kind of a relief to cut that particular cord. It was like his father had been a heavy weight chained to his foot; now that he'd cut him out of his life, he found every step he took was considerably lighter.
He stiffened as he felt the unmistakeable presence of someone sitting down next to him. He couldn't tell who it was, although there was a surprising clue in the form of a scent; a scent he'd not been accustomed to smelling in what felt like a decade, not just two long, painful years. It was a fragrance he'd bought her as well, if that wasn't enough to make his heart clench up as though it was in defensive mode, an expensive brand that had just quickly become the scent he'd associated with home. She'd waltz into the house but it was always her perfume that would signal her arrival first.
Damon didn't dare speak, lest it break the spell which had suddenly fallen over him, a spell which had sent him falling down the rabbit hole of memories. He'd never admit the power his father had had over him, even after cutting the chains loose, but the power his mother had over him... well, that he'd always surrender to. Daughters were usually daddies little girls, but sons were their mother's little guys, and he'd definitely not been the exception here. There were things he and his mother had shared that he'd never shared with Stefan, or his father, and for that he would always love her, despite the fact he hated the role she'd played in the division of their once whole family.
"You think I don't notice that you come out here?" his mother remarked, breaking the silence.
He didn't respond for a moment, finally turning his head to take a look at her.
She hadn't changed much, despite the fact she seemed to have more grey in her hair, which had once been this lustrous dark brown which she'd once taken pleasure in styling and re-styling until she found a hairdo which matched her mood. She'd never looked her age, but she'd never looked over glamorised despite her affiliation with fashion; she'd always looked like a mom. Her eyes looked a little wearier than he remembered; they'd always sparkled with humour, even around his father, although she'd curbed her Italian level of sass in front of him because she knew instinctively he'd overreact and take it out on his sons. Oh, Giuseppe had never hit his sons; he was far too proud for that. His preferred method of punishment was to freeze you out, which in some ways was far more terrifying.
"You noticed me huh?" There was a layer of petulance to his voice he already hated. "Every single time?" He didn't wait for a response before adding, "Why'd you never come out to see me?"
"I wasn't ready to say what I needed to say, and you weren't ready to hear it."
"And what makes today so special?"
His mother gave him a look. "If you need me to tell you the answer to that, I'm afraid I may have failed you in the education department."
"Ah." Damon grimaced. "Elena."
"Wipe that look from your face."
"What look?"
"The look I thought you'd worn for the last time during your terrible two years. The look that tells me you want something when you know you can't have it. That look you get every time you mention her name even though you've sworn to yourself you no longer care about her."
Damon shook his head. "Please don't do this."
Rosa Salvatore gave him a scrutinising look.
"I said my piece on the matter two years ago. If you're still upset..."
"Of course I am." Damon felt the volume in his voice creeping up a notch. "You chose her over me! What kind of damn mother does that?"
"Language!" His mother made the sign of the cross against her chest. "That girl fell to pieces in court, Damon. She told you over and over again that she was innocent, most of the time in tears. What other evidence did you need to convince her of her innocence?"
"More than what she gave," Damon retorted. "The evidence was overwhelmingly against her, Ma. It was enough to convince a jury, so why the hell did it not convince you?"
"Some things you believe with your eyes. Others you believe with your heart," Rosa said matter-of-factly. "I always choose my heart. It knows best." Damon snorted derisively, and her eyes flashed with anger. "You can scoff all you like, Damon. You know deep down there was more to that night than you know. You've just not let yourself allow yourself to go down that road in case you're wrong and you lose her all over again."
"This was a mistake. I knew coming here would make me feel angry all over again."
"Then why risk it?" Rosa retorted, before sighing. She gave Damon a soft, sad smile. "Stefan misses you."
"Don't mention that traitor to me. He might have the hero hairdo, but it's a facade, just like all his attempts at being a good brother..."
"Stop it," his mother snapped. "The only one you're hurting here is yourself. You act like you're better off without your family, yet every other week you're here, staring at the life you used to have, the life you still could have if you didn't let your stubbornness rule you." She folded her arms and then muttered, "You get that from your father."
Damon's eyes flashed with anger at the reminder of his father but he restrained himself from speaking.
On first glance, you wouldn't have guessed his mother had such a fierce spirit. She had dull blue eyes - a pale imitation of his own, or maybe his were just an enhanced version of hers - and soft curls, although the style changed from day to day - recently he noticed she seemed to have cut it shorter so that it was now a cute bob that made her resemble a school girl - and she was petite in stature. Cross her, however, and that image changed. She could push herself up to make herself taller, and her eyes would suddenly enflame, and you could almost, in the right light, see her hair stand upon end as if she was an aggressive cat which had just been provoked. She looked vulnerable, but it was an illusion, and it often begged the question why she'd allowed herself to be under Giuseppe's control, when it was obvious she wasn't happy there, if she had the power to free herself. If pressed for an answer however, she would always curtly reply, "I stay for my children."
Damon had always loved her for that answer, but it had made him feel absurdly guilty when he allowed himself to think about the sacrifice she'd made for her children which was, namely, her happiness. Maybe that was what all mothers did regardless of what other dreams and ambitions they had once had, but he knew deep down it was wrong. They needed to see the world as brightly as their children did.
He wanted to tell her he missed her, but to do that, he needed to admit that he was ready to put the past few years behind them and he just wasn't ready to do that. There are few things that can really wound a man; his mother betraying him had to top every list ever conceivable. The worst part was that she didn't even seem remorseful about it, because she believed she was right to believe the girl who'd wrecked their family in more ways than one over her own son, over actual evidence you couldn't refute no matter what you tried.
"How's Stefan anyway?" he asked, hating the tension, the silence, which had formed so easily between them.
His anger towards his brother had subsided over the course of the conversation, although his brother's betrayal seemed to be just as damaging as his mother's. They hadn't been joined at the hip, but they'd been close enough for brothers, always having each other's backs through everything; through the questionable girlfriends, the blazing rows their parents used to have, family funerals... there was nothing they couldn't get through, which was in part why he was still so angry with Elena. He missed his brother. And he hated that he missed him.
"He's happy but he misses his brother," Rosa told him, almost as if she could read his thoughts. Then, as if she couldn't restrain her maternal urges despite the obvious tension between them, she ran a hand through his hair, and he didn't shake her off. "I hate what has happened to our family, Damon, but it isn't unfixable you know."
"As long as you feel the way you do about Elena, it most certainly is," he said coldly, finally shrugging her off.
"You still get that look on your face when you say her name you know," Rosa quietly observed. "She still gets to you."
"For all the wrong reasons."
"But she's still in your heart, even if you're angry at her."
"I am engaged to another woman," Damon exploded. "So that's a load of bullshit!"
Rosa didn't even flinch. She merely pursed her lips, absorbing his statement with quiet contemplation, not even reproaching him for swearing in front of her.
"The whole town was talking about it. Kind of sad I had to hear it from the gossips and not from you." She cast her eyes downwards, and he hated that she still held the power to make him feel guilty, even over something as little as not telling her what was going on in his life. "Does she make you happy?"
"Without a doubt," Damon said without hesitation.
Rosa nodded. "I'm glad."
She rose stiffly to her feet, and he could see her wince slightly as she did so, causing his brow to furrow with concern.
"You okay, Ma?"
"Old bones," she replied, giving him a soft smile. "These last two years have aged me a great deal. I will be fine though."
He nodded curtly, but he was still uneasy, unable to completely believe her casual dismissal of her pain. He couldn't help but worry there was something more under the surface she wasn't telling him, but when it came to talking about their problems, the Salvatores were notorious for avoiding this particular activity, instead preferring to bury themselves into other things in order to distract themselves from facing the truth.
"This is goodbye then," he said, no question in his voice, just imminent sadness.
"Not forever, just until you listen to your heart and realise what it's been telling you all along," Rosa said softly, patting his cheek softly.
"I can't believe you're choosing her over me," Damon said, in a small voice, a voice that resembled that of a child's because of how vulnerable it sounded.
In that moment, he did feel vulnerable, and he hated it.
"I would never put you second, Damon, but I firmly believe in doing the right thing, and until you can see that - until your father can see that - I can't in good conscience be a part of this. An innocent girl was put in jail. I know the evidence looked bad, Damon, before you even say that, and I will be the first to hold my hand up and say I'd love to know what really happened that night, but I believe Elena's reaction was genuine, and I believe I know her well enough to know she would never do anything to hurt you." She caressed his face softly. "You will always be my baby, but I fear this bitterness will destroy you and your future happiness. If you are truly done with Elena, then at least move on. Don't be tempted to throw angry words her way for something she has had to bear the burden of for two years, particularly when there is still so much we don't know about what happened."
"We know what happened, just not why," Damon remarked sullenly, and that soft caress became a quick pinch of the ear. "Ow!"
"Mind your tongue, Damon, or your mother will mind it for you," Rosa said sharply."Leave the girl be, Damon." She turned away, her body looking frailer than ever, although she was just on the cusp of turning fifty. He wondered if this divide had made her that way, like she'd said, or whether she was hiding something bigger.
He buried his head in his hands, too tired to figure it out.
All he knew was that he missed the way things were, back when things had been simpler.
"This is gorgeous, Rosa," Elena complimented, having practically devoured the apple pie Damon's mother had made for them.
"Thank you, Elena." Rosa smiled, sitting down to start on her own slice. "It's an old family recipe with just some minor adaptations. It's Damon's favourite, isn't it?"
"Absolutely," Damon said, through a mouthful of pie, and Elena shoved him hard, laughing as he almost spat it out.
"Manners, Damon," she scolded. "Don't talk with your mouth full."
"What are you, my mother?" he asked sarcastically.
"No, I am though," Rosa chipped in cheerfully, "and I would listen to your girlfriend if I were you, Damon."
At once, Elena and Damon began protesting fiercely that they weren't boyfriend and girlfriend, interrupting the other as if their individual point of view would really drive the nail home that they weren't dating and had no interest in dating one another, but Rosa just smiled, her eyes twinkling with a smugness that Damon instinctively distrusted, because it usually meant she had some scheme up her sleeve in order to make him confess something. The last time she'd had that look in her eye, she'd successfully confessed Stefan to admit to owning several magazines of a certain... calibre that he had tried - and failed -to hide.
"Relax, Mom. They'll be dating soon enough, even if they're not right now," Stefan piped up, shooting Damon a wicked look. "Though I wouldn't put it past them that they're already in a relationship and just hiding it because they don't want us to know."
Damon raised an eyebrow.
"Really? I'm getting stick from you? The guy who couldn't hide a stash of dirty magazines let alone a relationship?"
Stefan flushed and immediately scowled at his brother but otherwise kept his mouth shut for the duration of the meal.
"You leave your brother alone," Rosa warned Damon affectionately. "He thinks like me. If the two of you aren't dating now, you will be. I see the way you look at each other." She winked at Elena, who blushed and gave a nervous laugh before excusing herself to the bathroom.
Damon scowled at his mother and brother.
"Great, now you've embarrassed her. Real classy, guys."
"We are just speaking the truth. You two do everything together. You cannot blame us for thinking there may be something more going on."
"We are best friends," Damon emphasised. "Why don't you give Stefan and Caroline this kind of grief, Ma? They're practically joined at the hip. It's disgusting."
Stefan glared at him and made a gesture behind their mother's back which had Damon instantly rolling his eyes.
"Because Caroline is already dating someone else, and I don't catch Stefan making googly eyes at her when she's not looking," Rosa replied, a teasing hint of amusement lilting her voice. "I'm sorry if this embarrasses you, but I am your mother. It's my job to embarrass you. It is also my job to make you patently aware when you're being an idiot, which you are now by not going after her."
"Okay, I'm done listening," Damon announced, rising to his feet, fully prepared to leave the table and end the conversation altogether when a sound completely stopped him in his path.
It was one of his favourite sounds in the world: Elena laughing.
She walked back into the room, arm linked with Caroline who'd just arrived, and they were talking in hushed tones but something was evidently funny enough to make her laugh out loud. When Elena laughed, Damon noticed her whole face just creased up, as if there were rolls and rolls of laughter concealed there and she could only release them in stages, because often she would laugh, then stop for breath, and then laugh even harder, and it just stripped away any negative lines her face had gathered from previous interactions.
He'd resolved a long time ago to make her laugh as often as he could and for as long as he could because damn, that was just when she was at her most beautiful.
"Hey, look who's here," Elena announced.
"Didn't know Ma's apple pie came with a side order of annoying blonde," Damon smirked, causing Caroline to scowl in his direction.
"Aw, looks like someone got a slice of bitter pie instead of apple," she mocked. "Bless..."
Stefan chortled which earned him a dark look from Damon. He had yet to understand what Stefan and Caroline's relationship even was, given the fact she'd only entered his life thanks to Elena, who'd been friends with her since childhood. Stefan had taken a shine to her, but not in a romantic way. He'd loved her energy and passion, and she'd apparently taken a shine to his intelligence, his loyalty, amongst other traits. They studied together, met up at least twice a week, and were in almost all the same classes together, and yet weirdly enough they weren't dating.
Damon wondered if his brother only focused on directing the smart ass remarks his way regarding his and Elena's relationship to hide a secret about his own with Caroline. Not that he cared either way, he just couldn't stand the secrecy of it all.
"How are you, Caroline?" Rosa asked kindly. "I heard what happened with your parents. I am so sorry."
"It's fine, Mrs - I mean, Rosa," Caroline said, always forgetting that she could call his mother Rosa because despite her mean girl personality - which was really a facade, he'd come to learn, to hide her insecurities - she still had manners. "They'd been unhappy for years. It's kind of weird my dad's come out as gay, but I'm glad he's finally free and able to accept himself. It sucks that it hurts my mom, but they'll get past it."
"Very mature of you to say, Caroline," Stefan complimented, and Damon mimed the action of vomiting when he was sure Caroline wasn't looking.
"Love is love," Rosa agreed. "Where we go looking for it, or where we find it, is not for us to judge. I've known your parents for some years, and whilst it does shock me to learn of them splitting up, I know they are good people, and they will do anything to make this easy on you."
Caroline gave a soft smile. "Yeah, I know." She then looked at Stefan pointedly. "Shall we get going?"
"Going?" Rosa rounded on Stefan. "And just where are you going young man?"
"Just out," Stefan said defensively.
"If you two are hooking up, at least have the decency to not lie about it," Damon chimed up.
Stefan shook his head and looked pleadingly towards their mother.
"I can go, can't I?"
"Be back before ten," Rosa agreed with a note of caution in her voice. "Your father only approves of this friendship because he believes you two are studying all the time. Not," she added hastily, "that I believe you two aren't studying. Just...don't do anything I wouldn't, okay?"
"We won't," Stefan assured her, smiling at Caroline as they walked out of the room.
"They are so hooking up," Damon grumbled when they were out of earshot.
Elena, who'd made her way over to him at this point, nudged him.
"They're friends," she insisted. "Admittedly Caroline did like him once upon a time, but he told her point blank it wouldn't happen and she got over it. Now they're friends."
"Friends, my ass," Damon grumbled, but he let it go for the matter, admiring the way Elena's hair fell across his shoulder as she leaned in to swipe the last bit of apple pie from his place. "Wha - How dare you!"
"It was just sitting there, doing nothing," Elena justified smugly. "Rather like yourself."
"Oh, you are so dead," Damon said, rising to his feet, a dangerous look in his eyes.
"Stay away from me," she warned, giggling despite herself.
"Nope. You've crossed a line which cannot be uncrossed. This means war," Damon declared, and then ran after her as she took off, fleeing the room in peals of laughter.
"Back in my day," Rosa said, to an empty room, nursing a secret smile, "When a boy chased you on the playground, it meant he really liked you." She began to gather up the plates, chuckling at the sounds of Elena and Damon laughing in the background, a pleasant soundtrack to finish off what had been altogether a lovely afternoon. "Glad to see even after everything, that at least has not changed about the world."
Damon rose to his feet, pulling himself from a beautiful memory he could no longer keep alive, even in the brightest corners of his mind.
It was strange, but even after all this time he could still remember as clearly as if it had been only yesterday the day he and Elena had finally decided to be together, and subsequently announced it to the world. Not a single person had acted surprised, everyone remarking that it had been inevitable that they would end up together because it had just been so obvious and they had just looked like the perfect couple.
Damon grimaced as he recalled their reactions, wondering if anyone had ever foreseen this kind of end to their relationship, because he certainly hadn't, and he didn't know what he hated more: the fact he missed it with his entire soul, or the fact even though he'd sworn to never let her enter his thoughts she seemed to be doing nothing but consuming every single one of them, and all because of a brief encounter they'd shared.
You didn't just fall for Elena Gilbert, he was starting to realise; you gave up your soul to keep her in your world, and when she inevitably crushed you into pieces, you were left trying - and failing - to pick up the pieces of who you were before.
She was a perfect storm and he was a vessel who'd wandered into her path, swept up into her dangerous beauty, enjoying the thrill for the briefest of moments before being spat out looking battered and broken, and all the worse for loving her.
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Elena munched on the store bought - and rather stale - apple pie in the solace of Jenna's car, reflecting on the fact that even such a simple errand had resulted in utter mortification. She could feel all eyes on her as she'd entered the store, and when she'd reached the paying part of the process of shopping, the cashier, in full view of everyone, had checked her money for its authenticity, even though Elena just knew she hadn't done that with her previous customers.
It doesn't matter what you went to prison for, or if you even committed the crime they said you did, she thought bitterly. You come out with a thousand new labels, a thousand new crimes, attached to you that other people see but you don't.
It was an empty victory, the apple pie she'd bought out of a sudden craving, and it seemed to taste of ashes, as if a good memory had been burned inside her. She'd needed the outing though because it was suffocating being inside a house for fear of what other people might say. Ironically, prison had been a better environment, because at least people didn't judge you there - well, not unless you'd committed crimes even the nastiest of criminals couldn't abide, like anything pertaining to harming children. She'd bonded with a lot of the inmates - Rebekah being the closest to a friend she'd made there - but had still hated the experience, just not to the exact degree she'd expected.
She'd had little visitors there except Jenna and Jeremy, who'd visited every week without fail. One week, Jeremy had turned up with a black eye and a cut lip, and although he'd tried to pass it off as nothing, she'd known he'd gotten into a fight defending her name, and she'd almost broken down there and then, wondering how she could be so simultaneously lucky and unfortunate. Nobody else had visited, not even...
No. She couldn't think about past friends. Not without feeling like an arrow had pierced her heart. If she tried to list all the ways that night had ruined her life, she would still be adding to that list because it was never ending. Consequences to actions were like a tide you could only guess the strength of by sight alone, never knowing how much they would drag you under until they hit you hard. She was beginning to lose count of the ways her heart could break.
The car door suddenly opened and Rebekah slipped inside, and without even thinking about it Elena flung the rest of her apple pie in her direction, the action propelled by this sudden fear that she was going to be attacked. Not that that had happened in prison, because Rebekah, who'd practically owned the place, had quickly taken under her wing, and nobody dared to mess with Rebekah Mikaelson, not after the one incident where her former cellmate had casually called her a bitch under her breath which had resulted with Rebekah slamming her against the floor, yanking a large patch of hair off of her head, threatening her with the most painful methods of violence if she ever called her that again. The rumour had quickly spread that she was a psycho and so no one had dared to mess with her, but Elena knew it was more than that. Rebekah liked having a reputation, and used it like a shield to protect herself from caring, because ironically that could reap you worst pain than if you went around not giving a damn.
"Free food. Nice," Rebekah commented dryly. "Next time, remember I take my food on plates just the same as you. I may be wild but I'm not uncivilised just yet."
"Sorry. Just a little on edge."
"Clearly. You about leaped through the roof of the car." Rebekah gave her a scrutinous look. "I'm gonna skip the part where I ask if you're okay and you lie to me and say that you are. We both know it's bullshit. You look awful."
"I feel it," Elena muttered. She gave Rebekah a curious look. "How'd you find me?"
"Easy. Your lovely aunt told me where you would be and I spotted you coming out of the store wearing the grimmest expression I've ever seen." Rebekah flashed her a smile. "You know, it's a tossup as to what's the hardest part about coming out of prison: adjusting to the real world, or letting the real world adjust to you."
"Is it fucked up I wish I was back in?" Elena asked quietly, playing with a strand of hair, her eyes following the people walking by, wondering about their lives, whether going through what she had would break them too.
"Yes," Rebekah said bluntly. "But understandable. Nik - my brother - has been in and out of prison his life. He has a list of enemies the length of his arm. It never gets easier for him, and he might as well own the place."
"Your brother has been in as well?" Elena wanted to laugh. "Wow. Your family is so disturbing."
Rebekah smirked. "Tell me about it. I could blame it on daddy issues, because our father was a monster, or mommy issues, since our mother was a freak , but the truth is, bad backgrounds don't make bad people. Bad choices do." She leaned her head back and sighed. "Truth is, despite the fact we're close, our family would love nothing more than to spread out to the four corners of the earth and just live our lives separately, but we kind of need each other. We can survive anything, but apparently not living apart. How messed up is that?"
"Nah, it's sweet... in a weird way."
"Hey, your life is no fairytale either."
"No, but at least my relationship with my brother is at least semi-functional."
Rebekah snorted. "Hell of a lot more than semi-functional given the fact he visited you every week without fail, come rain or shine. My own brothers didn't give me that experience. They told me they needed to let me learn the lesson on my own without distraction, and that I would fare much better in prison if I gave off the impression I was a luckless, psychotic woman with nothing to lose." She shrugged. "As borderline crazy as their advice sounds, it worked. If you give off the impression you're weak in prison, you end up as someone's bitch. Look at what happened to Jules."
"Yeah, but we never liked Jules anyway."
"Yeah, true. She was catty, as well as spineless, but at least the experience toughened her up. Bet you anything she's the alpha in the place now."
"What am I doing here, Rebekah?" Elena asked softly, cutting past the phony talk and hitting the real heart of what was eating her alive. "Am I just fooling myself into believing I can start over here?"
"Yes and no." Rebekah was surprisingly hesitant. "You and I both know why you're really here, and if you think you can get any kind of peace from knowing what you already know, then yeah you're fooling yourself. He isn't going to want to talk and he certainly isn't going to want to listen to what he believes is your version of events, not the truth. If you want to start over however, I believe that it's possible. You just have to ignore the reality everyone else chooses to see and live in your own."
Elena nodded, wavering on the edge of tears. Despite the tough exterior she'd had to build up over the years, she realised that she could still be pushed to the brink, that detaching yourself from your experiencing didn't detract the effect of it. She was determined to allow herself to get stronger from it, rather than using it as an excuse for every breakdown, but it seemed like an impossible task, like attempting to climb a mountain having been stripped off every single form of gear which could've helped her achieve the task.
She had to be thankful for Rebekah though, the only good thing to have come from ending up in prison. Sometimes the worst experiences you could endure pushed out the best friends, so maybe there really was truth to the adage every dark cloud has a silver lining, although she still would've preferred there to have been no dark cloud to begin with. Still, you couldn't have it all.
She couldn't help but think about Damon's mother, who'd always treated her like the daughter-in-law she almost could've been. Rosa had attempted to visit her in prison a few times, but Elena had never accepted the visits, finding that she'd been afraid to see her in case all she'd had for her were harsh words. Somehow it would've been adding insult to injury for the mother of the man she'd loved deeply to have scorned her too, although now she was thinking maybe that wasn't the case, since the rumour was that Rosa and Giuseppe had split over irreconcilable differences stemming from that night. Maybe someone other than her own family believed her innocence.
Maybe she was just reading into it too much, trying to seek out support where none was too be found. Maybe she was just too eager to believe the idea that not everyone could judge someone based on their supposed actions.
Maybe she just wanted the world to be like her mother.
"How about we get out of here?" Rebekah suddenly suggested, as if sensing the mood had taken a nosedive into an area which neither of them were comfortable with.
Elena nodded, eager for a distraction.
"Where to?"
Rebekah mused for a moment and then smiled.
"How about New Orleans?" she asked, raising a wicked eyebrow, her devil red lips curling into an even more wicked smile.
Instantly, Elena was taken back to those rare moments of fun in prison, where she and Rebekah had discussed New Orleans in depth, Rebekah recalling all the fond memories she had of the place there, of the music, the people, the festivals which had displayed a rich concoction of culture from all around the world. They'd discussed taking a road trip there when they'd both been released, because Elena had confessed she'd never been further than Georgia before - and even then, that had been a spontaneous trip Damon had organised without her prior knowledge, and they'd just been sneaking some underage drinking in thanks to a friend-of-a-friend who'd owned the bar they'd visited, so she could hardly class that as a holiday.
But as tempting as the getaway to New Orleans sounded, Elena knew she had to ride out the worst of the storm and not attempt to run from it. If she built up an immunity to it, then nothing anyone said or did could bother her. It would suck for a while, but until she managed to form a future plan that didn't revolve around drifting forever in a town that clearly wanted nothing to do with her, she had to endure it.
"Might have to call a rain check on New Orleans," she said apologetically. "I couldn't enjoy it. Not until I get into my right head."
"Fair enough, but you're missing it out." Rebekah sighed, tucking a blonde strand of hair out of her eyes. "So...what now?"
"Now, I go home, hash out a long term plan, and just hope nobody throws a brick through my window," Elena said, chuckling humourlessly.
"Nobody would do that. It would lower the tone of the whole neighbourhood, not to mention decrease the value of property in the area," Rebekah said, saying the whole thing in a mock snooty tone which told Elena just how seriously she took the true concerns of the town.
Elena laughed. "Where would I be without you, Rebekah?"
"You'd be someone's bitch that's for sure," Rebekah smirked. "No offence, you just have those sweet doe eyes which threaten no one. You'd be mincemeat without me." She chewed on her lip thoughtfully, before adding, "Then again, I've known to be wrong about people. You might look like an underdog, but I'd still back your corner every single time."
Smiling, Elena shook her head.
"I'd kick your ass in a fight," she declared. "You've not seen how I used to be when I was little. I took on boys and everything and used to send them running off crying. In fact, that was how Damon and I first met."
"Oh, I'd love to have seen that... you kicking Damon's arse."
"No, it wasn't him I was attacking. In fact, he was protecting me, even though I was doing a pretty good job of defending myself."
"Oh, shame. I had a prettier picture in my head." Rebekah shook her head, feigning disappointment. "Oh well, perhaps the visual is better purely in my head, because in my mind you don't stop at kicking his arse. You also take a pretty decent swing at his..."
"... I get it!" Elena hastily interrupted before Rebekah could finish her colourful sentence. "Look, despite what I've told you about Damon, he isn't all bad. The memories we shared I wouldn't change for the world, except the last few. He loved me as much as a person could love another person."
"I know. You seem to like coming back around to that point like it justifies his behaviour somehow," Rebekah noted, frowning. "You know, love justifies many things, but it never excuses someone turning their back on you when they need you most. You should know he could do a complete turn around and beg you to forgive him on bended knee and I still wouldn't trust him if I happened to be in your position."
Elena chanced a glance at Rebekah, and what she saw confirmed her theory that Rebekah had had more than just a string of bad romances which had ended with her getting the upper hand: someone had gotten the upper hand with her and had burned her heart, resulting in this new facade which meant she rarely allowed anyone to see beyond what she wanted them to see. It wasn't the ex who'd cheated on her, or the ex who'd scarpered the moment she'd introduced him to her brothers, or even the ex who'd become a little too aggressive with her; no, out of all the exes Rebekah had told Elena about, and there was a fairly lengthy list, mostly flings, she was sure there was one name that she'd avoided talking about, someone who'd damaged her trust and broken her heart, and that was why maybe out of everyone in that prison she could've befriended, Rebekah had chosen her to become allies with.
Few things unite a pair better than heartbreak after all.
"I don't trust him," she said eventually, "but god help me, I still love him. Does that make me an idiot?"
Rebekah shook her head, smiling wistfully.
"It makes you human," she said.
Elena slumped down in her seat, and thought about the roads which had led her here, to this very moment. Love was a brutal game and sometimes you were cheated out of an ending because of someone else's choices, but she would've played the game with Damon right until the last roll of the dice. She would've moved heaven and hell to have made an honest man out of him, and for them to have taken the steps into parenthood together, but now those dreams were gone. Turned to ashes.
He'd once been her harbour and her reckless ocean all in one; he'd kept her feeling as alive as any person could be, but had always guided her home when the seas had become too rough, and then they would start the adventure all over again the next day.
She couldn't stop loving him. It was a physical impossibility.
But for her own sake, she had to try.
A/n: Hey there. Thanks for all the reviews for the last chapter. Had no idea there was still a lot of love for this story out there. As promised, I've not taken nearly as long to deliver another chapter, and although it seems like I'm dragging the story a little, it does serve a purpose. I like the angst to drag a little, as opposed to some authors who like to drop it like a bombshell. Not that there's anything wrong with that method, I happen to love that way of creating angst, it's just it was never my plan for this story. There will be few and far between moments of happiness and it will take a while for Damon and Elena to find their way back but rest assured I will aim to make it happen :) Oh, and just to make it clear the prologue at the beginning of the story is set towards the end of the story, just to clear it up for one reviewer, so that scene won't have actual context until much later on. Thank you again for all the love and all the reviews and keep them coming. The more you review, the more I'll be inspired to write for you guys! Again, all the questions you have will be answered in due course so just settle in and get ready for a rocky ride!
I hope you enjoyed my version of Mama Salvatore as well. She's quite a hard character to write given how little we know about her, but I imagine her to be quite stubborn, very passionate, and driven by her heart - not unlike Damon - and I know it might seem strange her taking Elena's side over Damon but a flashback in later chapters will explain why she trusts Elena so deeply. Thanks again for your patience. See you next chapter!
