It's about time I moved forward on this, considering it was started last season and so much as happened this season – apologies for the long wait!
"Well, are you quite finished, Jeremy," Damon says, emphasizing each syllable in my brother's name. "You make a good point and I can see where you are headed so let me cut you off at the pass. It's true, you should stick around for those you love, but for once, I feel like I should stick by my brother. He loved your sister. He loved her so much that he died to save her life. What kind of person would I be if I swept in after he died and scooped her up to ride off into the sunset together? You said it yourself, Elena, sometimes love isn't enough. I think this might be a time when love just isn't enough."
His words tear through my heart, especially knowing they were mine to begin with. I tug on Jeremy's arm, pulling him back down next to me and giving him a look that says I'll discuss things with him later. I don't blame him at all for leaving and I hate that he feels guilty for wanting to escape all this… it's what I wanted for him when I had Damon compel him to go away.
When I turn my attention back to the memorial, Damon is already walking away, dragging the bewildered bimbo along beside him. Ric looks to me and starts to rise to follow him, I shake my head. For now, we need to let him go, we need to say our goodbyes to Stefan and then fix the things with those who remain.
Everyone is looking to me and I know I have to speak, I'm the only one who it makes sense to have talk. He died for me and I can't not say something in his memory.
I walk to take my place behind the tombstone, glancing one last time at Damon's retreating figure as I open my mouth to talk. Instead of words a small sob escapes my lips and I see Damon stop, back rigid. He's still listening. Knowing he'll hear my words, I continue, "There are no words that make this right. No words that can bring Stefan back so I won't try and do that. I won't try and make it right. But I will honor Stefan's memory by living my life, the life that he saved by giving up his own. By dying, he saved the two people he loved most, ultimately the person he loved most, his brother. For that I will always be grateful and I will never forget him but I will live my life as he intended, how he has allowed me to, by loving others, he certainly didn't die so I would hold onto his memory and turn him into a saint; he didn't want us pining after a dead person. Stefan died for love, for family and for himself – because he couldn't live with the alternative, literally. We can all learn from that example, love matters. The people we love matter. Who we are to each other is everything."
Even from a distance I can feel Damon's eyes on me as I stop talking. Caroline lets out a small cry and buries her head in Tyler's shoulder. Ric reaches over and pulls Jeremy to him as my brother holds tightly to Bonnie's hand. Matt sits to the side, quietly shedding his own tears for all the crap we've had to endure. I let myself look in Damon's direction once more, hoping he'll listen to my words and stop fighting against himself, stop punishing himself for something so out of his control; I can see his head shaking as he steps into his open car door. He might have listened, but I don't know if he really heard. But I won't let that stop me, not now and not in the future. I've only started this fight and I'm not going to give it up.
Damon's car roaring to life pulls us out of our haze and everyone else stands to join me. Caroline hands us each a silver-colored rose, and we file past Stefan's tombstone, placing them on the 'grave.' Our goodbyes have been said, out loud or in silence and there is nothing left to do but get one with life and whatever it brings.
After a week, Caroline has finally decided I don't need her to chaperone me in my own house and has left me on my own. Ric, Jeremy and Bonnie are off playing pool and keeping Matt company at The Grille. I am alone for the first time since before the coffin was opened. Silence surrounds me as I sit on my bed, unsure of what to do next. There is no "big bad" waiting to pounce in the wings, at least none that I can imagine. We haven't heard from any of the Originals since the night Klaus died, though I'm sure they'll be back, Damon did ultimately kill their brother, whether or not he had supernatural help might not matter to them, time will tell. I don't know what to do with myself, what did I used to do when I had a moment to myself? When was the last time this happened? I truly cannot recall. And I can't imagine that come Monday I'm just supposed to go back to school and pretend like life is normal. That I'm a high school girl sitting through every mundane, boring class. And yet, this is my life.
I look across my room and spy my journal… where would I even begin? "Dear Diary, You'll never believe the month I've had. It pretty much effing sucked. And then there's Damon… yes, Damon. I love him and he wants nothing to do with me. So there's that. XOXO Elena"
I laugh out loud, breaking the ever-deafening silence. I want to be with him. I should be with him right now. So what's stopping me? What exactly? Caroline isn't here to push me back into the house when I tell her I want to go to him and I take her absence as permission to leave the house.
Suddenly feeling stupid that I thought of doing anything else, I am on my feet and throwing a sweatshirt over my tank top as I head out the door. I'm halfway to the boarding house before it occurs to me that he might not be there or worse, that he could have company. But I can't not go to him. Can't not want to be with him.
The lights are on and his car is in the driveway when I pull up in front of the house. I step out of the car, the cool night air wrapping itself around me, making me shiver. I don't bother with knocking, he probably wouldn't answer if I did, and I walk into the house, ready to face whatever is waiting.
He's not in the great room, though a half-full glass of bourbon would indicate that he's not far away. I hear a thump from the second level of the house and I'm able to narrow down my search a bit. I pause at his bedroom door, giving it a quiet tap before I turn the knob. It's mostly dark inside but there is a small stretch of light is shining out from the bathroom that falls jaggedly across the bedroom floor. It's enough to see that his bed is empty, as is the rest of the room.
"Damon," I call out quietly, it feels strange to surprise him, though I can't imagine that he doesn't hear me coming. I cross the room to the bathroom doorway and find it empty as well. I glance around me, soaking up Damon's essence; his presence feels almost palpable in his personal space. Everything about his bedroom and bathroom is so very Damon. Dark, strong, stoic, timeless and breathtakingly beautiful. I close my eyes and lean against the doorframe separating the two rooms, perhaps I'll wait here until he returns.
Another thump, louder this time, makes my eyes fly open… it came from down the hallway, in the direction of Stefan's room. My feet don't even pause to listen to my head but seem to have a mind of their own as they rush me down to hall toward the sound, toward Damon.
Stefan's door is wide open, contents of the room strewn out into the hallway. Shirts, picture frames, books, candles and other various pieces of Stefan's life have found their way out, like they are trying to flee the scene. From inside the room I hear a crash, a table tips against a wall, its contents falling unceremoniously to the floor with several smaller thuds. It appears that Damon has entered the 'anger' stage of his grief.
I expect to be faced with rage and a venom-spewing Damon when I enter the room so I brace for the barrage as I cross the threshold, but instead I find him curled up on Stefan's bed, fists balled into the blankets, back to the doorway, the fight gone out of his body. He looks like a lost boy and again my feet don't pause as they bring me to him.
"Damon," I whisper as I reach out for the hand closest to me, squeezing it with all my might. I lift myself onto the bed and cover him as best I can with my body. His body tenses, unwilling to let me give it or him any comfort. "Damon, I'm here."
And then I feel it. The sob he's been holding in shakes his whole body and breaks my heart in two. My mind cannot grasp what he must be going through, the constant in his life being gone… his brother being lost to him after all they have been through. The sobs, now unleashed, don't stop and come in wave after wave, rocking us both with their power. To my credit, I hold it together and let him have his pain… in this moment I'm here for him, not to mourn his brother, I can have my tears later but now, it's his turn to lose himself in this unbearable sadness.
Time passes, I have no idea how much because it doesn't matter, there is no place else I need or want to be. Damon's fingers have loosened their grip on the blankets and he's brought them into his chest, one hand finding mine and pulling it close to him. I've tucked my free arm behind his head and have taken to stroking his hair away from his face. He has yet to open his eyes or look at me and when he does I hope my heart doesn't break again from the sadness I see there. But I know he will get through this, I've felt this grief so many times over and it isn't as endless as it seems to be in the beginning. It's always there but it changes, it ebbs and flows and it builds your character, but it doesn't hold you forever.
I can tell the moment the sadness of his grief loses its grip and flips the reins back over to anger, I feel Damon's entire being snap to attention, rigid with pure anger. Here it comes.
And come it does. In the flash of an eye I feel myself propelled across the room, slamming only slightly gently against the now-bare wall next to Stefan's bedroom door.
"What makes you think I want you here, Elena?" Damon's face is lined with veins and his eyes are vamped out. One arm is up against my head, while the other hand pushes against my stomach, holding me tight to the wall.
I was ready for this anger, more prepared for how to deal with this because I know for certain, he won't hurt me, he can't hurt me but that I can get through to him when he's like this, as I've done so many times before. Anger is his default, his comfort emotion. But it's how I know he's feeling and how I know that he can feel me and let me in.
"I didn't say you did, but I want to be here and I'm done with not doing what I want, it certainly hasn't done me any favors." I lift my chin and look into his darkened eyes. "You need me, I need you… we need each other."
"There's a difference between need and want, Elena." The hand next to my head, reaches over and strokes my hair. "I will always want you, but need… that is another story. I don't need anyone. I don't need anything."
"You're wrong, Damon, everyone needs something, or needs someone. You're just afraid to admit it. You think it makes you weak. You think it means you are less of a man to admit it. Or maybe you think that you don't deserve it now that Stef…"
Damon's hand leaves my hair and slams against the wall, "Don't say his name."
I reach my hand up and feather my fingers across his vein-lined cheeks, "Shhh… it's okay to say it. He wouldn't want this, Damon, he wouldn't want you to shut everyone out. He loved you so much. He wanted you to be happy. He thought I could make you happy. He wanted us to have each other, at the end, that's what he wanted, Damon. I know it's sick and dreadful and so beyond awful that this happened, but no matter how much time goes on, it doesn't change how I feel. Stop being selfish, Damon and let me love you. Love me back."
He glares at me as the words come out of my mouth, but the veins have receded from around his eyes and I know I'm getting through to him, that's he's hearing me. The feelings haven't been shut off.
"Damon, I love you…"
Again I'm flying, this time out of Stefan's room and for a minute I'm certain at the end of this flight I'll find myself out on the front lawn. Instead cushions hit my back as I'm tossed onto Damon's bed and surrounded by all of him – in body and everything else. His lips are on mine, not waiting for permission but just taking and giving, his tongue pushing past my teeth and stroking across mine.
His hips press against mine and I can feel all of him and I'd happily give him whatever he wants, damn the consequences and the bad timing… Damon and I are never going to have that perfect moment given to us, but we can make our own and to hell with anyone who judges us. The past year has been the longest foreplay and there's certainly no reason to think that tomorrow something new isn't going to stand in our way. If he wants to do this, I'm all in.
My hands come to life and I pull at the hem of his shirt, lifting it up over his head, tugging against his arms, practically growling at him to help me out. He gives me what I want, pulling my own sweatshirt and tank top off in the process, palms brushing against my breasts on the way up. In a flash my bra joins our shirts somewhere other than on the bed and his hands replace the lace fabric, followed quickly by his lips. I arch against him, digging my nails into his back, overcome with everything I'm feeling both physically and emotionally. Damon on a good day is often barely holding it together, in this moment it's all so overwhelming, this is nothing like anything I have ever experienced and tears are suddenly in my eyes, because I can't hold it all in anymore, my love for this man. Damon lifts his head and looks at me just as the tears spill over and instantly stops what he's doing.
"God, Elena, I'm sorry. We shouldn't… we shouldn't…" Damon's hands release me as he sits back on the bed. "Did I hurt you?"
"No, it's not…" I pause, unsure of exactly what to say and instead decide I just need to show him, just need to do. I sit up and pull his hand back to my chest so it is pressed over my heart, locking my eyes with his, I reach forward and lock my fingers behind his neck, dragging his lips back to mine and trapping his hand between us so he can feel my heart racing, so he can know that I want this more than anything. His hands pull against my hips, lifting me onto his lap and I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist, grinding into him and making him gasp. For the first time what feels like forever, we both smile. I release his lips long enough to murmur, "We totally should."
So, was it worth the wait? I hope so.
Don't worry – more coming soon…