Chapter Ten
"Our love was made for movie screens"
September 9th
2012
"No." Damon said furiously, his blue eyes had darkened to the shadowy grey of a raging storm cloud. "I come down here and you tell me that?"
Ric sighed rubbing his hands over his face, finally looking his age as the wear he'd suffered settled in he creases of his skin. "I told you not to go back to her, Salvatore," he snapped, "and you didn't listen."
"Explain that." Damon hissed, throwing the crumpled sheet of paper viciously at the older man. "If I hadn't been there who knows what could have happened. You know what he's like! He doesn't do confrontations; he plays sick, twisted mind games!"
Ric read the letter with wary eyes, scanning over the lines of print at a furious pace. Damon saw when he reached the last line, because his eyes tightened and his mouth set itself in a grim line as his grey eyes lifted to meet his blue ones. "He found you."
"He never lost me." Damon grumbled snatching the letter back and folding it back within the pocket of his leather jacket. "Great job you did with that by the way."
Alaric's eyes went hard, going from understanding to cold in less than a heartbeat. "We kept you safe. We got you home. Understanding that outside this Fort, there are six billion people is another thing." Alaric was angry now, a dull rage suffusing through his voice. "Be pissed all you like Captain," he sneered derisively. "But if they found you it's because you were careless and now you have to deal with the consequences."
"Careless?" Damon snorted. "I went home. To a family, and a child." He sighed, his eyes dropping to the floor. "She thought I was dead, Ric. Even if I intended it to be a short visit, how could I do that to her?" he asked in defeat. "Drop in after six years and yell 'Hey! I'm alive! Bye!' and walk out on her again?" His eyes met Alaric's once more. "Could you have done it?"
To his credit, Ric didn't even flinch at the defeated tone of Damon's voice. "They sent Elena a letter?" Ric said quietly, finally dropping all formality that had always obligatory between himself and Damon. "I never expected it to happen to you."
Damon's head jerked up. "It happened to you." It wasn't a question.
"Read about my own death in the Christmas bulletin that comes in from my home town. Said I was a hero, died too young, yada yada yada. Still got a section on me nowadays. I don't think they had the heart to stop sending it here." He said softly, running a hand across his stubble as if it provided him with some measure of comfort.
"Why don't you tell them?"
Ric snorted. "I love my Christmas Bulletin, Damon. How else would I keep up with small town gossip?"
Damon rolled his eyes, shooting Ric a look. "Why don't you tell them you're alive?"
Alaric raised one, steady eyebrow, his gaze disbelieving. "Look what happened to you. I stay dead; Tract stays happy; family stays alive. That's what matters. Nothing else."
"What do you know about Tract?" he asked suddenly, his voice sharp and short. He was done, just done, with endless evasive questions.
Ric's jaw clenched. "I know that I can't help you." He said shortly, not meeting Damon's eyes. "Where Tract are involved, I stay out of it. They're finally done with me," he looked at Damon with sorrowful eyes. "But that doesn't mean I can control them. If they have a claim on you, that's it: you're there's. You belong to them."
"I've always belonged to them! Even before all of this!" Damon exploded, his anger rushing out in hot tides of fury. "They sent me to London before I even signed on officially! Origin was their operation. They sent a solider in as a spy just because they could! Because they had me unattached and unaware my family thought I was dead!"
"And you fucked up Origin!" Ric yelled furiously. "Don't give me that look, Captain! Origin was created to take down the criminals in London and the place is going stronger than ever!"
Damon's mouth opened in protest, his eyes wide in outrage. "You took down the Fells within ten months with the information I collected! Donovan was down within two years! I took them all down, one by one." He snarled through gritted teeth.
"You were undercover for nearly six years Damon. Nearly every mediocre to high power criminal organization was down inside four. What does that tell you?"
"It tells me nothing." He bit out, glaring at his friend. "I did my job. I met my objectives."
"The Mikaelson's were the prime objectives, you idiot! The only objective that mattered and the only one you failed to meet!" Ric roared, slamming his palm on the desk. "Origin was created to destroy the very substance of London's underworld! And what do you do? You make Klaus your new best friend!"
Damon's eyes tightened. Tract had sent a soldier to do spy's job; a solider, mostly if that solider is him, lives to see the good in people. He had looked for the redeemable qualities inside his main target and so what, he'd seen a fucking lot of them. Klaus Mikaelson – whether he was as cruel or as heartless or as evil as the world painted him – had become a friend.
"It doesn't matter now. Origin is dead. Send in new operatives." Damon shrugged, running his hands through his hair distraughtly. "They found me, Ric. And now they're after her." Ric looked up at him, his face etched with regret as his clear eyes lost some of their spark. "Don't say it." Damon pleaded weakly, running both of his tattooed hands through his mussed up black locks. He took a deep breath, his tormented gaze meeting his friend's. "I know what I have to do."
Alaric nodded once, his eyes flickering towards the door as a shadow of a man flitted past the frosted glass. "Glad you understand, Captain."
Damon grew somber, deep shadows etched onto his face. "Look after them, Ric."
He nodded again, meeting Damon's eyes with utter sincerity. "For as long as you're not here."
As Damon crept into the silent house that night, he didn't immediately wander up to Ben's room with the faint hope that he might still be awake. He didn't look in on Ben's sleeping form before sighing in defeat and dropping himself onto Elena's bed and pulling her close to him as they whispered words into the shadowed night. Instead, he took a right at the front door and sat down heavily in the study, trailing a finger softly over the thick layer of dust that had settled over his possessions; his old guitar lay untouched in the corner, a camera probably still loaded with ancient pictures, broken phones, abandoned picture frames. Everything was covered in the fog of time. He bent down slightly, opening up a drawer to pull out a white sheet of paper and place it softly in front of him. Somehow, his favorite pen found its way into his hand. Twirling it around his fingers, the aching blankness of the white sheet seemed to haunt him.
He took a deep breath ignoring the soft rustling and murmurings coming from above. He pressed pen to paper and he began to write.
The words spilled out as sharp black ink on white paper. He wanted to think it was perfect: written in flawless calligraphy with heart-wrenching words and the like but it simply wasn't. It was chaos if you asked him, a bit like he was. Messy, hectic, all over the place. It was smudged in places where his hand had raced frantically over the paper, desperate to get his words in ink.
"What you doing?" Caroline asked softly, sitting down softly in the armchair in the corner of the study.
Damon glanced at Caroline briefly. If he had paid more attention he might have noticed the limp texture of her hair, the lackluster smile and the half-hearted charade she was still trying to keep up. He'd noticed it within days of being back – no matter how loyal he was to Tyler, Caroline was like an exceptionally annoying little sister, and his friend had given up his duty in the army for her. Surely that made him a hell of a lot better that him, right? But no, Tyler still hadn't put a ring on her finger no matter how many promises he made her. He saw it from their first fight years ago, when Caroline turned up in floods of tears during one of the few months a year Damon had with Elena, and they had opened their arms to her, waiting for years after that night for the relationship to finally crumble. With the practiced way Elena had enveloped Caroline in her arms, told him this wasn't a one-time thing.
"What are you doing, Caro?" he replied ambiguously, fixing the girl with a stern look. She smiled sadly, leaning her chin on her hands. The world was fine, but the people were broken.
"Is that a letter?"
"Yeah." He sighed, his eyes scanning over the lines of chaotic print.
"Why-" Caroline asked in a small voice, her green eyes burning furiously into him.
"Don't." He interrupted, running a hand across his stubble.
Caroline shrugged, her shoulders slumping in resignation. "What does it say?" she asked curiously, a dull knot of tension growing in her chest.
Damon let out a rough noise, halfway between a laugh and a sigh. "Everything."
Caroline's face didn't change. Her mouth stayed curved in a small, sad smile. There was no raise of her eyebrow or twinkle of her eye as she scoffed and mocked him for it. She just looked at him, as if even she knew it was a lost cause to argue with him. And then the words, the ink he'd placed so recently on the paper in his hands came pouring out of his mouth like a torrent of water. For the past six years, who had he to confide in but a man he had been sent to betray?
He'd fucked up. Ric was right, like he always was, the smug bastard, when he'd said he shouldn't have befriended his target. Perhaps that was his first mistake. Or maybe his first mistake was ever getting mixed up with Tract in the first place. Or perhaps it was refusing them in the way he had: when an organization like Tract wants you, they get you. There is no middle ground, no 'maybe' option on the cards. You said yes, or they come like a fire, burning you to the ground.
Either way, he managed to drill some emotion back into he blonde. Her hand clapped over her mouth in shock, her eyes wide like glistening emeralds in the dim lighting. "Everything." He repeated, shrugging slightly as he looked down for a moment. "That's what's in the letter."
"You don't have to go." She said silently, staring at him dumbstruck. "You could stay here. Try explain-"
"I do, Care. I really do." He sighed, running both hands through his hair, leaving his raven locks in a disheveled state. "I need to. Origin," he trailed off, fixing his gaze on a far off point on the wall. "Origin was my fault. I fucked it up. I care too much, all those pesky little emotions getting in the way-"
Caroline swiftly cut him off with a sharp glare. "How can you care too much?"
Damon raised an eyebrow, giving her a look that said her questions were better left unanswered. How do you care too much? Your target becomes like a brother to you, so much so that in the end, your failed your duty. That's how you cared too much. Caroline stood up and flung her arms around his neck.
"You're a dick, Damon." She griped exasperatedly, pulling away and glaring at him with her favorite 'death by Caroline Forbes' look. "Elena can't deal with all this by herself. God, Damon. She needs you."
"What she needs is to stay safe." He growled, pulling away in a sharp movement. They were like siblings; he loved the girl, but there were times when he would happily throw her head first off the Empire State building. Twice actually, if the first time happened to fail.
"What she needs is you!" Caroline hissed, dropping her voice for once. "You-" she growled, prodding his chest furiously as she stepped towards him. "Put her through hell. She loved a dead man for six years, raised a child for five! You were gone. You walking back through that door?" she scoffed incredulously. "Nothing short of a miracle. You leave again Damon she won't make it through this time." she yelled, her voice rising dangerously.
Damon dropped to his chair, burying his head in his hands. He finally looked Caroline in her flaming eyes, his jaw clenching with regret. "Caroline." She shot him a fierce look.
Caroline looked at him with glistening eyes. "If you leave she'll crumble."
"Stop." He said breathing heavily. "I will stop them, Care." He vowed, his eyes bright and determined. "But until I do I either disappear, go on a couple missions, try to not let Tract murder me or Elena, Ben, you, everyone I care about are going to get hurt." He whispered, standing up and giving her a tight hug. He pulled away, resting his hands on her shoulder.
"Where will you go?" she breathed quietly, her eyes threatening tears as she readied herself to watched Damon walk away, and once again, her best friend would be gone and god knows when she would see him again.
"I'm a solider, Care." He said shrugging. "I go wherever they send me."
Caroline shot him a steely look. "Where are you going first?"
Damon gave her a helpless look. "I don't know." Caroline glared at him unamused. "Will you give this to her?" He asked urgently ignoring Caroline's question. He was holding out the folded sheet with trembling hands.
"Damon…" she began slowly, looking reluctantly between her friend and the ominous white envelope.
"Please." He said desperately, his eyes on fire. "Just-" he broke off burying his face in his hands. "Please."
Caroline looked at him with anguished eyes. Damon Salvatore was like her brother, like the only sibling she'd ever had in her entire life. He was part of the only family she'd ever know. "You're really leaving again aren't you?" Damon looked away from her, his face finding refuge in his tattooed hands. She sighed, standing up and walking towards the door. "Are you ever coming back?"
"Mom, why is Damon never here?" Ben asked sleepily as Elena pulled up his covers, dropping a quick kiss to his forehead.
"He's working, baby." She answered simply, her heart constricting in her chest. "He'll be home soon."
"Promise?" his muffled voice asked hopefully from beneath the covers. Elena swallowed roughly, leaning her forehead against the bump in the duvet where his shoulder lay.
"I love you Ben-ben." She whispered, standing up and brushing a strand of hair away from his peaceful face.
"Love you." He mumbled, half asleep. Elena padded out of the room, closing the door shut behind her and burying her face in her hands.
In ways, the constant disappearances she was enduring were worse than the years he spent serving abroad. Each night, maybe every few days while she was curled up alone in her bed, his heavy weight would drop onto the bed, shifting her in just the right way as his strong tattooed arms would wrap around her back and hold her close to him. With each tour, Elena knew the dates, exact moment in time when she would have him close to her; and now, all she had was a dull ache in her heart as she pretended to sleep every night, waiting for her soldier to come home. This was how it always started. She pressed her face into the pillow more firmly, hugging it tightly to her face to dry the silent tear tracks trailing down her face. How many times had he left her? She wondered silently, great shuddering breaths wracking through her body.
The mattress creaked and shifted beneath her and Damon's heavy weight dropped suddenly onto the bed next to her. She jolted violently, her eyes snapping to his worried gaze.
"What's wrong?" he asked, brushing a thumb across her cheekbone. She let out a sharp breath.
"You're kidding right?" she snapped at him, staring at the ceiling.
Damon rolled onto his back and tried to calm his racing thoughts.
February 27th
2001
Elena's teeth grazed teasingly over his shoulder, biting down lightly. He suppressed a groan, rolling over so he was pinning her to the bed. He glared at her, rolling his eyes at her mischievous grin.
"Now you're just being mean." He griped, frowning at her. "You know we can't."
"I know." She sighed, wrapping her arms around his waist, shoving him off her to nuzzle her face in the crook of his shoulder. "I'll just miss you." She admitted shyly, her face hidden from view.
He kissed her hair, a surprisingly sweet gesture. It had been barely two months since he'd met Elena Gilbert and the thought of leaving her ripped ragged through his heart. "I'll miss you too." He murmured into her chestnut hair. "A lot."
She held him tighter, her fingers dancing lightly over the tattoos spread across his arms. "Promise me you'll stay safe."
"Promise." He told her, playing with the ends of her hair absently.
"Is it bad that I don't want you to go?" she asked quietly, her gaze finally meeting his. "I've known you less than two months." She said incredulously, "I can't say something like that."
"Does that really matter? Two months or two years, I don't want to go either. For once, I actually want to stay here." He admitted to her. "I blame you." He teased playfully, kissing her temple. "Disrupting my sense of duty."
She chuckled, her laughter vibrating through him like a warm wind. "If it keeps you here then I'm all for it." She paused, biting her lip. "What-" she broke off, her eyes dropping downwards.
"What are we gonna do?" he finished gently, tilting her chin up to look at him. He sighed, kissing her gently and leaning her forehead against his cheek. "I'm gonna fight. Like you know I have to."
"Then?" she whispered, her voice tight and unusually subdued.
He shrugged, holding her rightly against him. "Then I'll come back to you. And hope to God some other guy hasn't stolen you away."
She smiled slightly, pressing a kiss to his bare chest. "Better hurry back then. I won't be able to resist long." She laughed lightly, her fingers running through his hair.
"You shouldn't have to." He said stiffly, laying one arm behind his head. "You shouldn't have to resist other guys. We should just stop this."
Elena frowned and sat up, her long hair cascading in waves over her shoulder. "What the hell?"
"What?" he asked, turning his head to look at her. "It's not fair to you. Why should you wait for a guy who might not even come back?"
Elena's expression went from irritated to downright angry in under three seconds. "Don't say that. Don't ever say that." She warned in a low voice, moving away from him slightly and wrapping her arms around her knees.
"Don't say the truth?" he scoffed, sitting up and rolling his eyes. "Be realistic, Elena. Are you really gonna wait around four years for some random guy you hooked up with on New Year's Eve?"
Elena flinched, her eyes losing their fire as she became more and more hurt. "That's what this whole fucking thing was? A random hook up?" she echoed, her voice foreign to her own mind.
Damon shrugged slightly. "You've known me two months." He pointed out reasonably, ignoring everything in him telling him to shut up. "You won't wait four years."
"Vacations." she pointed out quietly as she ran a shaky hand through her hair.
"Fine. Let's say I get a weekend to spend here, over Christmas. That's ten months away, that'd be nearly a year since we met." He swallowed trying to stop his voice from shaking. "You can't expect this to work." He added, closing his eyes for a moment as a heavy weight settled in his chest.
"You know what? Fuck you." She snapped, leaving the bed and walking to the door as tears spilled down her cheeks.
Damon was frozen for a second; unsure of how he was suddenly watching Elena's form walking away from him. And then, as if something suddenly 'clicked' or whatever, he was out of the bed and following Elena into his messy apartment hallway. He grabbed her wrist pulling her towards him, caging her to his chest. She tried to pull away, angry fire burning behind her watery eyes.
He let go off her wrists only to catch her face between his hands. "Stop." He snapped. "Please." he added pleadingly staring her straight in the eyes. He wiped away her tears with the pads of his thumbs. "'Lena, I love you. Call me insane, but I do." He murmured to her. "But how can I expect you to wait for me 'Lena? I'm your random New Year's hook up, not the guy you're going to wait four years for. You're not mine to ask that of," he whispered brokenly.
Elena stared at him in shock; her beautiful brown eyes open with undisguised disbelief. "I wouldn't wait for some random guy I met on New Year's." she agreed, nodding lightly, wrapping her fingers around his. "So why am I here with you?"
Damon raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"I'm already here, you idiot." She muttered, rolling her eyes. "So you can leave and come back for Christmas and I'll still be here."
"But I can't ask you to do that!" Damon said tortured, pulling away from her. "How can you tell me that?" he whispered, his voice shaking.
"'Cause it's true." She shrugged, winding her arms around his neck. "So we'll make a deal. I'll wait for you, ten months, four years, whatever and you come back. Like you promised. I know what it's like, Damon; my dad was in the army. Whether you're back for ten hours or ten years it's all the same."
"What if I don't come back?"
Elena froze, meeting his gaze with fearful eyes. "Don't say that."
Damon wrapped her in his arms and kissed her hair softly. "I really do love you, you know."
"I know." She whispered against his chest. She pulled away, taking his hands and pulling him back to bed. She laid her head against his chest, her fingers dancing over his muscles. "I love you too."
Elena sighed loudly and laid her head on his bare chest in defeat. "Sorry."
"S'okay." He murmured, smoothing his palm against her hair gently, though he knew the action had always soothed him more than her.
"It's not though." She frowned against his warm skin. "What's going on?"
"Nothing." He persisted adamantly. "I was undercover, 'Lena. Of course coming back to the States has been a bit shaky. That's all."
"You've been undercover before."
"Not like this." He told her, running his calloused palms over her soft arms. "You know I can't talk about it. National security, blah blah blah." He joked pointlessly.
Elena's grip tightened around his waist. "That's not what we need to talk about. Stop avoiding the question."
"Being a mom suits you, you went all diplomatic on my ass." He grinned ruefully, vainly attempting to lighten the situation.
"It helps that you have the mental capacity of a five year old!" she griped irritably. "Do I need to dumb it down for you? I know something's going on, you always act like this."
"Act like what? When do I act like this?" he groaned, rolling onto his side to face her.
"Like everything's okay! You act like this when you're hiding things from me!"
"Everything is okay!" he stressed, raging in hushed tones as to not wake their son.
"It's not!" she cried, tears spilling over her eyes and down her cheeks. "It's not."
"C'mere." He murmured, enveloping her small body in his arms as her tears made warm tracks across his chest. His palm moved in slow circled across her back. "Everything'll be okay."
"It won't." she whispered, so quietly he might have missed it. "Because you're le-" Before he could reply or she could finish her sentence, the door crept open to reveal as worried Ben.
"Are you fighting?" he asked in a small voice, his thumbnail being gnawed to a stump by the looks of it.
Damon was out of the bed before she could ever blink and crouching in front of Ben, ruffling his hair. "Nah. Did you know your crazy momma steals blankets and yells when you take them away?"
Ben didn't look convinced. He gazed between his mother and Damon hesitantly. "Probably wasn't yelling about that." The young boy murmured sleepily. He swallowed and looked at Damon with his identical blue eyes. "I miss you." He added in a small, shaky voice.
Damon dropped his gaze to the floor, his eyes filled with pain. He waited a moment before slowly winding his arms around his son's body. Ben's arms went willingly around his neck, holding him tightly. "I missed you too, kid."
He wandered through to Ben's room, sitting gently on the bed and reclining against the headboard. Ben shifted slightly, pressing his face more firmly against Damon's chest. "Will you stay now?"
Damon sighed and swallowed roughly, his head leaning heavily against the headboard. "Ben-ben, I love you like crazy."
He felt Ben smile softly against his chest and hug him that little bit tighter. "Love you too. You're almost my daddy, but not. So that's pretty cool." The young boy was mumbling away in his sleepy state. He sighed contentedly. "I've never had a proper daddy before. If you left-"
Damon kissed his son's head. "If I leave-"
Suddenly Ben wasn't sleepy anymore. He shot up, staring at Damon in shock. "You're leaving?" he said, his wide eyes brimming with tears, not realized he'd only been trying to answer Ben's sleepy words. The sight broke Damon's heart in a way it'd never broken before.
"If I do, wanna know why you'll be okay?" he prompted, shifting Ben in his arms so he was resting against the pillows. Ben nodded against the fabric, looking up at him anxiously. Damon crawled out of bed, and kissed the boy's head fiercely. He took a deep breath. "'Cause I'll always, always come back. It might take a while but I will, okay?"
"Okay." Ben replied, nuzzling into his pillows and began drifting off into a deep sleep.
"Just don't forget me Ben-ben."
"Never." Damon cupped his cheek lightly before pushing himself off his knees, turning off the light and closing the door with a soft thud. He padded back to his room, crawling onto the bed and wrapping his strong arms around Elena so her back was pressed tight to his chest.
"I'm sorry." He whispered anguished to her sleeping form, his rough voice barely rousing her from her sleep. He pulled her closer to him, his lips brushing against her ear. "I'm so, so sorry." His hoarse voice fell on deaf ears as his desperate apologies washed over her sleeping form.
And he was gone by the time the dawn light touched the cool, white walls. A soft whisper breezing through their lives as wild as a hurricane, like a ghost that they couldn't quite let themselves forget.