Hi again readers! Super excited for this chapter... it's a biggie (in terms of plot). It was a little difficult to write since I wanted to do the situation justice. Also, I think I mentioned this with my other story as well... I got a few comments about the long author notes so I've decided to respond to your awesome and wonderful comments privately, so you'll be hearing from me soon :) I hope everyone enjoys the update!
"What's this? My Damon up before noon and sober on a weekend?" Eloisa chuckled as she entered the kitchen, dressed and ready for her day. "And in front of the oven, no less. Have I wandered into an alternate dimension?"
"Good morning to you, too," Damon smirked, partly focused on his cooking and partly focused on reading the article he had spread out on the counter next to the stove.
"Buon giorno," she smiled and kissed his cheek before taking a closer look at his reading materials, "New England Journal of Medicine, I didn't know you were still getting that."
"Would you rather I subscribe to Hustler?" Damon asked with a playful lilt and flipped the page.
"You are your father's son," she muttered under her breath as she scooped some sugar into her tea.
"There's some new stuff in here about drug trials," Damon suggested, hoping his mother might be more open to discussing some new treatment this time. She had struggled with arthritis for several years, but after Giuseppe died her health seemed to take a dramatic downturn. Damon could clearly see that his mother was in pain every day but, true to her nature, she was too proud to admit defeat and continued to fight her battle silently and gracefully. "Some new immunomodulation therapy, they're getting better at putting rheumatism into remission, Ma."
"But at what cost mio angelo, more steroids to make my old bones more brittle?" she asked as Damon put the finishing touches on her croissant and slid a heaping plate in front of her. Eloisa loved cooking before her hands became too painful to chop and dice and mince, it was no small blessing that her sons inherited her love (and skill) for the culinary arts.
"I'm just throwing it out there," Damon said and sat down across the table from her with a cup of coffee. "If you happened to have a passing interest in a trial, I'm sure we could find something in the area."
"I think we should talk about getting a nurse or a housekeeper before we talk about anything that serious," she suggested and sampled the warm croissant on her plate.
"We don't need a housekeeper," Damon dismissed with a practiced headshake. He promised his father that he would look after Eloisa and Stefan as best he could, and he hated the idea of bringing a stranger into their home to do things that he was perfectly capable of doing himself. There were times when it was hard, but Damon had learned that after everything family is all you have in the world.
"You can't keep doing everything by yourself, Damon."
"I don't," he defended himself. "Stefan and Katherine take care of things on the weekends."
"So you can make your weekly whoring rounds," Eloisa said matter-of-factly but with no indication of judgment or condemnation. "I want better for you than that, son."
"Mamma, it's fine. This is why people have kids, so they have someone to take of these things when they get old."
"My poor Damon, you are so simple for such a bright young man," Eloisa shook her head. "People have children so they can share in the joy of watching them create new lives for themselves and maybe someday be able to spoil a set of grand babies. You know how much I appreciate everything you do, but if we hired a housekeeper think of how much more time you would get to yourself. You can go on overnight trips and vacations like your brother."
"Joy," Damon said sarcastically, "because when I think of transcendent happiness, Stef is the first person who pops into my head. Besides how do you know you're going to be able to trust someone new? What if they screw something up?"
"And what if they didn't?" Eloisa countered wisely. "What if you didn't feel compelled to stay at home to open jars and peel bananas for your old, decrepit mother so you got to go out and be a young man again?"
"I'm really not missing out on the wild night life of Mystic Falls, Ma."
"Either way, please think about it? The hospital has a list of very capable and professional people who could do the job," Eloisa ended. "You're not eating?"
"I'm meeting Elena for breakfast in a bit."
"I like Elena. She's a very clever girl and fun, too."
"She is," he said and feigned reading to avoid talking about Elena because the truth was that her name was starting to gather more and more adjectives. She was clever and fun, sure, but she was also beautiful, strong, sexy, sweet, and… he had to stop himself there. He couldn't afford to think about her like that—to see her as a woman. She was a co-worker and a friend.
"And if I know anything at all, she has an eye for you," she added and kept a close eye on her son to gauge his reaction. Her older son had always been stoic, but even the most reserved men have their tells. The slight tightening of his fingers around his coffee cup was enough to let her know that she wasn't wrong about her suspicions.
"Most women do, Ma," Damon smirked arrogantly, trying to recover himself.
"Though I can't imagine how she manages to see past your ego."
"I'm hurt," he pouted and put his hand over his heart. "All those years you told me I was perfect."
"You are perfect mio angelo, you just don't remind everyone so often," Eloisa chuckled. "So where are you going to breakfast?"
"I don't know."
"What are you wearing?"
"I don't know."
"You are picking a lovely young lady up for a breakfast date and you don't know where you're going or what you're wearing?!" she exclaimed in disbelief. "You aren't living up to your full potential as a Salvatore man, Damon."
"It's just breakfast, mamma," he shrugged, but wondered if maybe he shouldn't have invested a little more planning into the thing… even if only to uphold his reputation. "It's not like I'm asking her to move in or anything."
"Do you know what I did forty-three years ago?"
"What?"
"I just went to lunch with a charming young man. Then just lunch turned into a dinner invitation, which became an introduction to his family, that in turn became a lovely weekend in a romantic chateau in the Alps."
"And?" he shrugged, not seeing the point of his mother's story.
"And that charming young man gave me a ring, forty-three years of his life, and two wonderful sons."
"Dad took you out to lunch for your first date?" Damon asked in disbelief and dropped his journal to the table. Eloisa nodded her head with a knowing smile. "That is so lame. He always told me and Stef not to take girls out to lunch."
"No mio figlio, your father told you to not take just any girl out to lunch. Lunch is only for a woman special enough to earn a spot in the middle of your day because you can't wait until dinner to see her again. Now go get dressed," she instructed and Damon obediently started out of the dining room. "And wear something other than black, people are starting to think you're a vampiro."
3 3 3
"Whoa," Elena exclaimed as soon as she opened the door and saw Damon in jeans and a medium blue button-down. She wondered if he ever had off-days where things just didn't come together, but she doubted it. "I honestly thought you were color blind this entire time. Did Johnny Cash's estate need his wardrobe back or something?"
"Good morning, Elena," he smirked and drew her name out to a sensual purr which was enough to make her blush like a schoolgirl.
"Come on in, I just need to find my shoes," she said and opened the door widely for him before disappearing to the living room to look through her boxes for appropriate footwear. Damon stood awkwardly in the entryway wondering if he should offer some help until his eye caught a stack of mail on the floor next to the door. There were some bills, a couple of magazines, and ubiquitous junk mail but that's not what caught his interest; they had all been addressed to her place in Mystic Falls instead of being forwarded from Boston. She must have anticipated staying for a while to change her address. He was distracted by a crash of boxes and a string of colorful words that he hadn't heard from her since the day he sent her packing without signing her Grimoire contract.
"You alright in there?" he called out.
"Yeah," she yelled back, a little winded. "I'm fine, just looking for my boots."
"Do they look anything like the brown ones with brass buckles by the door?"
"Yep," she said returning to the entryway. "They look exactly like that as a matter of fact." She laughed and slipped them on, trying carefully not to lift the hem of her white sundress up too far when she bent over.
"So how do you feel about pastries and coffee?" he asked tentatively. The drive over had given him time to plan something Elena wouldn't be expecting and try to live up to what his mother had told him.
"Mmm… pastries," Elena answered and patted her growling stomach.
"Great, you can eat on the way to the Falls."
"The Falls, what?" she asked and looked down at her outfit, which wasn't exactly hike-worthy.
"My mom was right, you should visit Mystic Falls at least once while in Mystic Falls. It's a short walk to the top."
"You'll have to keep up," she joked. "I bet I'll beat you to the top."
"I know how much you like being on top Elena," he smirked and waggled his eyebrows.
"I can't say anything around you," she muttered and shook her head and she headed out to his car.
3 3 3
"I never took you for an outdoorsy kind of guy," Elena commented as they padded down the trail that led to the town's famous waterfall. Most of their walk had been comfortably silent as they just enjoyed the peacefulness of their setting.
"I like to get out every once in while," he shrugged. "You're not exactly the poster girl for REI yourself."
"Me?" Elena exclaimed. "I love the outdoors. Every summer my parents took us up to Concord near where Thoreau wrote Walden. Jer and I spent the entire summer running around the woods."
"Sounds nice," now that she mentioned it, it wasn't too far-fetched to imagine a younger Elena running free and wild through the forest. Actually, it wasn't too hard for him to imagine Elena doing exactly that right then.
"It was, one time we tried to build a canoe but it sunk in the middle of the lake and it took us two hours to swim back to shore," she laughed at the memory.
"You're pretty close to your brother, huh?"
"Oh yeah, we have friendship bracelets we made at camp," she answered enthusiastically. "What about you?"
"I never went to summer camp."
"You know what I meant," she scolded and bumped him with her shoulder. "What's your brother like?"
"Eh, Stefan and I don't see eye to eye on a lot of things," he shrugged; he wasn't comfortable talking about his relationship with Stefan. It was a long and complicated story but at the end of the day he'd do anything for his baby brother. "We were pretty close when we were kids, but just kind of drifted apart as we got older."
"Because of Katherine?"
"No, she's barely a footnote and she makes Stef happy for some unknown reason so I just keep my mouth shut."
"You're a good big brother," Elena smiled.
"I know," he replied arrogantly and threw her a lop-sided smile.
"Have you always lived in Mystic Falls?"
"Yeah, except when I was in college."
"Where'd you go to college?"
"University of Virginia. What's with the twenty questions?"
"Just wondering," she shrugged, but was still pleased with herself for getting at least a few of her questions answered before he clammed back up. "How much longer to the top?"
"A few hundred meters, getting tired?"
"Not in a million years, Salvatore," Elena scoffed. "I was just a little worried about you, you're looking kind of winded there."
"I've got stamina, I can go for hours," Damon said suggestively and cocked and eyebrow at her, as if challenging her to deny it.
"I really can't take you anywhere, can I?"
"You can take me anywhere you want, all you have to do is ask. Out in the woods would be a new one though."
"Ugh, you're lucky I'm having a good time Smarmy."
"I'm glad," he said simply. "So this is it: Mystic Falls."
"Wow, it's really beautiful. How cold do you think the water is?"
"Probably pretty damn cold," he answered and looked over to his side, only to see Elena sitting on a rock and slipping her boots off. "What are you doing?"
"I'm going to see how cold the water is," she answered like it was obvious and dipped her toe into the river. "Oiy, it is really cold!"
"No kidding. It's not even spring yet," he watched her as she stepped her entire foot into the river and waded out to her calves. "Elena?"
"I'm looking for fish," she shouted back and picked up the hem of her dress so it wouldn't get wet and waded out a little deeper. This was the sort of thing she could never get away with back in Boston, being free and reveling in the small wonders of life. Every time she tried she was shut down based on the fact that it wasn't "appropriate" behavior for a young woman in the professional circle.
"You're insane!" he called back to her. No sooner than he settled on a moss-covered rock to watch and make she wasn't swept downstream a crack of thunder rattled the air and a few rain drops pelted down through the trees above. "Looks like rain."
"You don't say," she laughed and looked up at the sky letting the rain fall onto her face.
"We should head back before it gets worse," he suggested.
"Fine," Elena pouted and swished her way through the water back to the shore where she begrudgingly pulled her boots back on. Another crack of thunder seemed to herald an awaiting downpour and torrents of rain opened up from the clouds. Damon tried to stand as close to the trunk of a pine tree to stay dry and wait for it to let up a little, but Elena lured him in with a mischievous grin.
"Race 'ya," she giggled and took off back down the path towards the car, disappearing into the mist before he even started moving.
3 3 3
"I did not see that coming," Elena laughed through her chattering teeth as Damon unlocked her door. The rain thundered onto the hood of the car with such ferocity that it kicked up little bit of mist that made it look like everything was smoking. He reached over to the backseat to retrieve his leather jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders, rubbing her upper arms to try to warm her up.
"A few hundred more meters and I think you'd be hypothermic," Damon smiled. His strokes down her arms got slower and she stared up at him through her thick eyelashes. She was still shivering, but he didn't think it had anything to do with the cold. His hands traced a soft path from her shoulders up the side of neck to come to rest on her cheeks. He traced the arch of her cheekbones with his thumbs, being especially careful of her bandages, and let his gaze drop to her glossy lips. Her skin was wet and moist, but he could feel the subtle sizzle of electricity under his fingers wherever he touched her.
"Damon," she whispered and it was more than he could bear, they'd danced around the sexual tension that had been building between them for too long. The desperation in her voice was enough to drive away what little restraint he had and without a further thought he melded his lips to hers. Elena whimpered under the passion in his touch and he slipped his tongue into her mouth. His fingers delved into her wet hair and tugged at her tangled strands to bring her closer to him. Elena climbed onto his lap and straddled his waist, kissing him back with all she had. His fingers crept up her thighs and rolled up the hem of her dress, she leaned back shrug his jacket off of her shoulders and hit the horn on the steering wheel.
"Oops," she giggled and interlocked her fingers behind his neck, pulling him back for another kiss. He tried to help her with her sweater but ended up smacking his elbow into the window with impressive force.
"Dammit," he growled making Elena giggle even more. "Back seat?" he asked and she scrambled off of his lap to climb into the backseat, giving him a nice view of her firm backside. He followed her but his hand slipped on the wet vinyl seat and he tumbled on top of her with a grunt. When he recovered his balance her fingers were already busy at work on the buttons of his shirt. He stripped off the wet piece of fabric and threw it to the floorboards. The prickling chill of the air was quickly replaced by her hands on his back as she re-familiarized her palms with his taut muscles. Damon made a final attempt at Elena's sweater and got it mostly over her head before it got tangled in her wet hair.
"Ow," she yelped and tugged at the material covering her face, "I'm stuck." Damon snickered and helped undo the snarl of merino cable knit suffocating Elena until they were both laughing in earnest. When she was freed and her sweater joined Damon's shirt on the floor she saw that his blue eyes were smoldering as he watched her and the rest of the world fell away. All that mattered in that moment was that he was looking at her like she was the only woman on the planet and she surrendered to him completely. His hands traced a path up the damp skin of her thighs and under the cotton eyelet fabric of her dress until his fingertips ran over the edge of her lace panties. She lifted her hips slightly so he could drag the scrap of fabric down her legs to join the growing heap of discarded clothing. Her hands eagerly pulled at the buttons of his jeans. His lips took her lips in a deep embrace as he joined their bodies.
"Oh god, Damon," she gasped and in that moment, he knew that he would do anything to hear her say his name like that. Being inside of her felt familiar and new, all at the same time. The last time they had been like this they were two strangers looking for something to distract them for a night. They'd had sex that first night, and it was good, but it was still just sex. This was something different all together; it was literally making love: they were slowly building something that would someday look and feel like love. She was under his skin this time, right where he wanted her.
Elena puled softly and rolled her hips against his in a tacit request for him to move. Their rhythm was so slow and sensual that it belied their original impulsiveness. Damon circled his arm under her head to make her more comfortable and hold her more tightly against him.
"Elena," he groaned as her lithe frame bowed against his chest and he felt himself nearing the precipice of oblivion. The feeling of her nails burrowing into his back as she reached her own bliss was enough to push him over the edge. He crumbled against her and nuzzled against the soft cotton eyelet of her dress bodice as she toyed with his wet hair. They laid in silence listening to the rain pelting the roof of the car. An avalanche of forbidden little words like "falling" and "love" crashed into the back of his clenched teeth with such force that he was barely able to hold them back. He swallowed them down but they felt jagged against his throat; they didn't want to be locked back up, they wanted to spring out and tighten the little ribbons of affection that were forming between their master and the woman who filled his every thought. The little words knew that they would have little partners from Elena to help with the ribbons if their master would set them free. Begrudgingly, they accepted their commands; they had lain in disuse for so long that a few more days or weeks wouldn't matter. The little words would be ready whenever Damon needed them. Just because he wrangled his eager words didn't mean that Elena would necessarily do the same and a new wave of anxiety washed over him as he waited for her to speak. In that moment she held all of the power she needed to break him even if she didn't know it.
"I'm getting cold," she murmured and pulled her dress down from where it was bunched around her waist. Simple and uncomplicated—cold, he could fix that.
"It'll take a few minutes for the heater to warm up," he said coolly and buttoned his jeans before pulling his shirt back on.
"Ok," she answered, staring at the ceiling with her palms flat against her stomach. Her face was unreadable and he hoped she wasn't regretting it already.
The drive back to her house was quiet and she stared out the window the whole time with her chin in her hand. From the few glances he stole she looked thoughtful and not angry, which was good.
"So, uh… the power usually goes out when it rains," he said awkwardly when they pulled into her driveway.
"I have a bunch of candles I can use."
"You'll call if you need anything?"
"I will," she promised as she unbuckled her seatbelt. She reached for the door handle but stopped herself and turned back towards Damon, pulling him into a heated kiss. "Thank you for today," she said quietly and beat a hasty retreat for her porch. He waited until she was inside to put the car back in gear and head for home.
3 3 3
That night he was roused from a fitful sleep by an odd variation of a dream he had had a thousand times before:
He was back in the international departures terminal where he had been so many times before. His fingers were coiled around the familiar handles of Rose's luggage, waiting for her to print her boarding passes at the check-in counter. Travelers of all kinds were rushing to make their connections or meet their loved ones at the gate but he couldn't take his eyes off of her: his beautiful wife. The springy curls in her hair bounced as she laughed at something the ticket agent said and she looked over her shoulder at him with a loving smile.
"Do you have everything you need?" he asked as she walked back over to him and folded her into his arms.
"I suppose so."
"I hate that you have to leave like this," he said and kissed her forehead. "I'll be waiting for you."
"No," she shook her heads and put her finger over his lips. "Promise me that you won't."
"Rose," he chuckled, "don't be ridiculous. It's only a few months."
"Not this time," she shook her head sadly and took his hands in hers.
"What are you talking about? We were planning for summer vacation, remember?"
"Just promise me that you won't wait forever," she pled so desperately that he had no choice but to agree.
"Alright honey," he rolled his eyes and kissed her knuckles. "I promise."
"Thank you," she said and stepped away from him to gather her things. "Goodbye."
"For a little while," Damon pressed. Rose smiled a gentle smile that didn't quite reach her glassy green eyes. "You'll be back soon."
"Goodbye, Damon."
He tried to fall back asleep and forget the dream but it was futile. He pulled himself out of bed and padded downstairs to the living room where he found the fireplace glowing with a few smoldering embers. As quietly as he could he added another log to the grate and poured himself a tumbler of his best bourbon.
"Stefan?" Eloisa asked. She heard noises in the living room and got up thinking that Stefan and Katherine's flight had arrived early and they caught a cab home. "Damon, my goodness! What on Earth are you doing up at this hour?"
"I'm forgetting her," he said quietly twisting a crystal tumbler in his hand, his eyes still fixed on the dancing flames in the fireplace. "Rose. I'm forgetting her, mamma. I'm trying to remember her voice and what she felt like, but I can't. I used to remember everything and it seemed like it was yesterday, but it's fading away. There's less and less of her everyday."
"It's ok to let go, son," she was well acquainted with the pain her eldest son was feeling after losing her own husband.
"Do you remember what Dad was like, before he got sick?"
"We were married for forty two years, there are some things I can't forget."
"But what if I do? What if I forget her?"
"You'll never forget her, Damon. A part of Rose will always be with you."
"Yeah, I guess," he said, resigned and unconvinced.
"What else is on your mind?"
"Nothing."
"Don't 'nothing' me. You are as transparent as your father when you're dwelling," she smiled fondly at his likeness to her husband. "Firstly, this isn't going to help you with anything," she said, taking the tumbler from his hands and setting it on the coffee table before taking a seat on the sofa across from him. "Now tell me what's troubling you."
"It's Elena," he admitted and dropped his head into his hands, "I'm fuc— messing it up."
"Why would you say that?"
"Because it's true. I'm so screwed up I don't even remember how to be happy. Then she comes along and looks at me like I'm her damned answer to everything and I feel like a fraud every time. She sees a guy who doesn't exist and I've fed the illusion and played the part of not the emotionally stunted widower. In the end it's all just one long countdown until I screw it up and break her heart."
"Why are you so certain it will end like that?"
"I can't keep it up forever, sooner or later she's going to see what I really am, and who wants that guy?"
"So you presume that Elena is stupid and imperceptive," Eloisa stated.
"No, not at all," Damon snapped his head up.
"Son," she began, "Elena is a much smarter woman that you are giving her credit for, and you are putting far too much stock in your acting abilities. You don't disguise yourself as well as you think you do. If you are hiding something from her, ask yourself why you are keeping it a secret. Is it to protect her or is it to protect yourself?"
"I just don't want to hurt her," he mumbled, but he knew that it was partly because he was afraid of losing her.
"Are you sure it's not because you don't want to revisit the past by being honest with her?"
"Both, I guess."
"I think you know what you need to do. Everyone has a past and some are nicer than others but there's nothing you can do about it now. What you do have control over is how you let your past dictate your future. I know you loved Rose, mio angelo, and part of you will always miss her, but you can't let that part of you stop you from living. Are you afraid that you may love Elena more than you loved Rose?"
"Yes," Damon said quietly. His mother had given a voice to his greatest fear since losing Rose: that if he ever fell in love again, he may love more deeply and more ardently than he did before. The only way he was able to justify Rose's death in his mind was to convince himself that she died for an epic, once-in-a-lifetime love and if that was no longer true, then she would have died for nothing.
"You just need to be honest with her and let her make her own decision."
A/N: What did you all think? I wanted to get a better feel for Damon's anxiety so I tried to keep most of this chapter in his POV. Let me know what you think!
~XOXO Anna
