AN: Holy...Wow. The reponse to Chapter 10 was unbelievable. I'm SO thrilled and relieved that you're all still with me and enjoying this fic even as I put you through the ringer with DE. I have to apologize for taking over a week to update. That wasn't my intention after posting chapter 10 and leaving you with that literal cliffhanger, but this chapter (and chapter 12) is just as huge as chapter 10 and I needed it to be perfect. Falling short is simply not an option at this stage in the game.
My beta is amazing and because of her, I think this chapter lives up to 10's hype. I can't wait to hear your thoughts. Enjoy!
Chapter Eleven – No One Lives Forever
Damon hit the rocks at the bottom of the cliff with a bone-breaking thud, shattering several of his ribs as well as his right leg and arm. Blackness crept in around the edges of his vision as pain consumed him, threatening him with unconsciousness and momentarily obliterating all other thought. He lost precious seconds before his body began to heal, intensifying his agony.
Pushing through it, he groaned as he rolled onto his stomach, searching frantically for Elena. He had to find her. The fall had been long – enough to kill any human – but she was strong and she'd already survived so much. She'd survived vampires, werewolves, Originals, her own death wish…living with him. This…this was nothing. It had been six days since their last blood exchange, but if he could just get to her he could give her his blood again and she'd be okay.
He'd be okay.
Damon's gaze swept the surrounding area as he felt his ribs knitting back together, his eyes finally coming to rest on her still form just a few feet away. The rocks scraped him, cutting his skin and drawing blood as he crawled to her. Elena's face was turned away, one arm pinned awkwardly beneath her body and the other splayed out over the rocks at an odd angle like her legs. The white fabric of her dress nearly glowed in the deepening shadows.
She wasn't breathing.
"Elena," he murmured, making it to her side after what felt like an eternity. Roughly, he grabbed her chin, forgetting to be gentle in the face of his panic, and bit into his wrist. Ignoring the blood trickling from her mouth and her open and empty gaze, he pressed the open wound to her lips and willed his vampire blood to do its work.
"Come on, Elena," he urged, tenderly smoothing her disheveled hair away from her forehead. The bite began to heal too quickly, before Elena could begin to draw blood from his open vein. Snatching his hand away with a growl of frustration, he bit savagely into his newly healed skin, tearing the flesh open as he slipped his hand behind her neck. Lifting her head from the ground, he pressed his wrist to her mouth once more, hard enough to feel the sharp edges of her teeth. Closing his eyes, he begged. "Please, Elena, drink."
"Landis is gone," Stefan announced from somewhere behind Damon where the rocks gave way to smooth ground. Absently, he wondered how and when his brother had arrived at the bottom of the cliff, his whole being focused on getting Elena to drink the blood that he knew would save her life. She just needed a little more. "He blurred out of here the second you and Elena went over the side. I was going to go after him but Bonnie…Oh, god..." Crouching at Damon's side, Stefan stared in horror at the human girl's broken body. "Elena."
"She's going to be fine," Damon said harshly, even as his wrist healed again and his blood ran from either side of her mouth in twin trails, dripping onto the rocks below. "Come on, Elena, don't do this to me," he ordered desperately, his brain stubbornly clinging to the hope that she just needed a little more. A few more drops.
The beautiful brown eyes that he knew so well stared at him lifelessly.
Something inside of him broke…shattered.
Savagely shoving aside the gnawing certainty that he'd been too late, he defiantly continued to hold his wrist to her lips.
"Elena, no!" Bonnie cried, falling to her knees on the other side of her fallen friend and taking her hand. Ignoring her, Damon took his wrist away from Elena's mouth, wiping away the blood smeared on her lips and chin with his thumbs. Choking on a sob, she looked at Damon with tear-filled eyes. "She's not breathing."
"I know that," he snapped, slipping an arm beneath her shoulders and another below her knees to gather her into his arms. The rocks were sharp, uncomfortable, and he needed to get her off of them. Elena's bare back was slick with blood and as he lifted her from the rocks, more of it glistened off of their jagged surfaces. The scent of her blood overwhelmed him, making it impossible to think of anything else as he slipped and slid over the rocks. She lay in his arms like a rag doll, boneless and limp, as he carried her toward a patch of grass near the trees. Laying her in the shelter of a tall oak, he took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers as he searched her face for a sign that he hadn't lost her.
"Elena, please," he begged, caressing her cheek and willing life back into her empty gaze. The broken part of him began to spread, creeping outward from the center of his chest and leaving him numb. Bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed her bruised knuckles and squeezed her fingers hard enough to make any human wince in pain.
Nothing.
"Don't," he whispered, as the crushing knowledge that she was gone – truly gone – finally manifested into coherent thought in his brain. Sweeping his thumb over her tear-stained cheek, his voice cracked as he pleaded. "Don't leave me, Elena."
Bonnie and Stefan arrived at his side once again. This time it was his brother who reached for the broken girl, gingerly placing two fingers on the pulse point below her jaw. Ignoring the voice that called the gesture pointless –he would have heard Elena's heartbeat if it were there – the last part of him that remembered how to hope waited.
The seconds ticked by slowly, interminably, until a minute had passed. Then two. After five, Stefan curled his fingers into a fist, lifting his defeated gaze as he swallowed and said quietly. "She's gone, Damon."
Damon stared back at him as the words echoed in the deathly stillness of the night, bouncing ineffectually off of his numb shell.
"No."
Damon pulled a T-shirt over his head as he made his way down the hallway and into the kitchen where the scent of coffee and the promise of blood beckoned him. Elena was already there – as he knew she would be – perched on a stool by the counter in her pajamas, sipping coffee from a mug the size of a soup bowl and eating dry Frosted Flakes from the box. Keeping her nose buried in the first edition copy of A Tale of Two Cities that she'd swiped from his collection, she didn't even look up as he entered the room.
I hate finals, he grumbled internally as he noisily retrieved a mug from the cupboard directly above her head and decided on coffee first. The only time Elena ever beat him out of bed on a Saturday morning was during midterms and finals. She'd spend the day with her nose buried in a book, ignoring him as she took over the living room or kitchen with her various study materials. Lounging around all day in her pajamas, she'd unknowingly drive him nuts in her ridiculously short shorts and tiny little camis that left miles of bare skin exposed to tease him.
It also happened to be the only time that Elena's willpower overruled his skill at seduction and he was forced to take a backseat to a bunch of dead English guys.
Sipping his coffee, he stood next to her and watched her, wondering how long it would take before she tore her attention away from Dickens' version of the French Revolution and acknowledged his presence. He knew that he was acting like an ornery and petulant child, but he didn't care, continuing to stare crossly at the back of her head as she munched contentedly on her cereal. And ignored him. This is why they were in Atlanta, so that Elena could go to college and do the whole normal, human thing that she'd nearly given up on. He was glad that they were there, glad that she was able to follow a dream and all that bullshit, but he missed her – especially since she'd stopped letting him help her study, claiming he was 'too much of a distraction'.
Jesus, I need a hobby, he thought with a sigh as he finished his coffee and, giving up on his one-sided staring contest, made his way to the refrigerator. Setting his empty mug on the counter, he opened the door, pushing aside a couple of cans of soda to grab a blood bag. Straightening up, he was about to shut the door when he paused, his attention focused on the contents of the fridge.
Elena had gone grocery shopping after class the day before, stocking the kitchen with fresh fruit and vegetables, sugary cereal and diet soda. She had a tendency to shove food onto the shelves without rhyme or reason and this time her Diet Coke was wedged onto the top shelf next to his O positive. It probably wasn't the first time it had happened, nor would it be the last, but it was definitely the first time Damon had noticed.
Back in Mystic Falls, he'd kept his cache of blood bags stashed in the ancient freezer one of his relatives had installed in the '70s. Not hidden exactly, but certainly not mixed in with the scant amount of human food that had been kept on hand. He'd meant to get something similar for the apartment after they had moved in, but for one reason or another, had kept putting it off. Elena had never said anything and eventually he'd forgotten about it.
Until today.
Forgetting his thirst, he stared in wonder at the plastic containers of medically bagged blood and the shiny, metallic cans of diet soda. It was so…domestic, so normal, the way his and Elena's worlds had melded together – her human food and his human blood, sharing a shelf in the refrigerator as if it were no big deal. As if the fact that she had chosen to be with him - to love him - despite the fact that his kind was the predator and hers the prey, wasn't a goddamn miracle.
When the hell had this become his life?
"You're going to let all of the cold air out," Elena said suddenly around a mouthful of Frosted Flakes.
"Huh?" Damon blinked, automatically looking at her over the open door, his brain was still stuck on the contents of the fridge.
"You're holding the door open," she said, looking up from her book and rolling her eyes at his, no doubt, dumbfounded expression. Shaking her head, she smiled. "Nevermind. It's just something my mom used to say when Jeremy or I couldn't decide what we wanted to eat."
"Oh," he said stupidly as she returned to her book and he let the door swing shut. He watched her for a few minutes, noting the way she absently licked the sugar from her fingers after every bite of her cereal, before he turned away.
Mechanically, he set the blood bag on the counter before taking his mug to the sink to rinse it out. Cold blood sufficed in a pinch, but he preferred it warmed up - it tasted better, more like the real stuff, fresh from the vein. Pouring the contents of the blood bag into his coffee mug, he put it in the microwave and pressed a few buttons. Seconds later, the rich metallic scent of blood began to permeate the kitchen.
He glanced at Elena - she didn't even look up from her book.
A series of revelations struck him at once - the longing ache he used to feel when she kissed him goodbye and walked out of a room was gone. He no longer felt the need to commit every second they spent with each other to memory, in case it was the last one they shared. When she turned to him in the night and curled into his side, he no longer wondered when she was going to wise up and leave him.
She's staying, he suddenly realized, putting into words something he'd felt for a long time, but hadn't been able to articulate. She's always going to come back.
The microwave beeped and he retrieved the warmed blood like a man in a dream. Taking a drink, he savored the taste as he continued to stare at her, completely dumbstruck. During the course of simply living their lives, he'd missed his own metamorphosis. He'd gone from cherishing every moment out of fear that it might be his last to nearly taking them for granted in their familiarity.
Elena knew him – all of him – and she wasn't going anywhere. She belonged to him as much as he belonged to her.
Finishing the blood, he set the mug in the sink and determinedly made his way around the corner to her side. Dickens be damned, he wasn't letting this moment slip away.
"Hey," she protested, as he tugged the book from her grasp and snapped it shut. Setting it aside, he took her face between his hands and ignored her continued protests. "Damon, I need to finish th-."
The rest of her words were lost as his mouth descended upon hers and in seconds she was moaning softly as she kissed him back. She tasted sweet, like the cereal she'd been eating and he knew she could taste the metallic tang of the blood he'd consumed, but it didn't matter. She didn't care. She loved him no matter what and he finally, finally believed it.
Her knees parted, allowing him closer as he buried his fingers in her hair and continued his exploration of her mouth with his lips and tongue. She returned the kiss with equal passion, running her palms over his chest and up around his shoulders.
"What was that for?" she gasped when he finally remembered that she was human and occasionally needed oxygen.
"Nothing," he said, resting his forehead against hers and closing his eyes. Everything, he added to himself. For loving me as much as I love you. He couldn't believe it had taken a freaking can of Diet Coke to clue him in, but whatever the reason, he'd needed to let her know. Brushing her lips with another kiss, he trailed his hands down her bare arms as he started to back away. "I'll leave you alone so you can study."
"No, wait," Elena replied, trapping him between her legs before he could retreat more than a step. Damon raised a brow, placing his hands on her thighs and luxuriating in all of that bare skin as he noted the desire in her eyes and her kiss-swollen lips with a hint of pride. Perhaps her willpower wasn't as strong as he'd thought. Her gaze dropped to his mouth as she shrugged. "Dickens isn't going anywhere. I was actually thinking about taking a break and jumping in the shower."
"Really?" he replied, slipping his fingers beneath the edge of her shorts.
"Yes, really," she returned defiantly, slowly hooking her legs around his waist as she managed to bring them even closer together. "You want to join me?"
Fresh tears ran down Bonnie's cheeks as she knelt on the ground next to Damon and listened to Stefan utter the damning words.
She's gone.
Elena was gone. Dead.
No.
She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to breathe around her aching heart. She couldn't believe it – wouldn't believe it. How could Elena be gone? How could she be dead? They'd been best friends since kindergarten, confiding in each other over all of the important stuff – sleepovers, boyfriends, bad grades and heartbreaks. Their friendship had survived vampires, werewolves, and distance when they'd gone their separate ways after high school. They'd faced death so many times and lived it was incomprehensible to her that this time, her best friend hadn't made it. Elena always survived.
Blinking through her tears, Bonnie looked at her friend and felt her defiant hope dissolve into bitter reality. Elena's wide, vacant eyes stared at her, devoid of emotion, of life. Damon's blood wouldn't save her now – nothing would. He'd been too late.
They'd all been too goddamn late.
"Do something," Damon demanded, his voice raw and rough as he clung to Elena's hand, but Bonnie didn't hear him.
"Why didn't you wait?" she wondered, unable to look away from Elena's body as she recalled the scene she and Stefan had stumbled upon. "Landis said he was going to take Elena back to the cabin. You could have…why didn't you…"
"Bonnie," he said harshly, yanking her from her stupor as he repeated. "Do. Something."
"What?"
"You brought back Jeremy," he stated, imploring her with desperate, wild eyes that broke her heart all over again. "You brought him back, you can do the same for Elena."
Oh god, I wish I could, she thought with a pang of guilt. "The witches cut me off, remember?" she managed through her tears as she failed her friend for a second time. "There's no way I could draw on enough power to bring Elena…to bring Elena back."
"She's your best friend," he snapped, making it sound like an accusation. Bile burned at the back of Bonnie's throat as she looked toward Stefan for help, but the younger Salvatore was watching her with the same naked hope as his brother.
"I know," she whispered.
"Do something, dammit, you're a witch!"
"I can't!" she insisted desperately, holding her head in her hands.
Grabbing her wrists, Damon pulled them away from her face, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Try!"
"Okay!" she cried, wiping the tears from her cheeks as she crawled around Damon and knelt by Elena's head. Please let me be wrong, she prayed, reigning in her tears as she took in the girl's broken and bloodied form before hesitantly placing her hand on Elena's forehead. Reaching out with her senses, she called for the threads of Power in the various forms of life surrounding her. Answering, they came to her and her heart surged with hope until they stopped just out of her reach. Uttering a sound of frustration, she reached harder, but even though they spoke to each of her five senses, only a faint trickle came through the barrier the witches had erected after she'd brought Jeremy back three years ago. It was enough for her to perform the simplest of spells, but nowhere near the Power she needed to raise the dead.
Stubbornly, Bonnie tried again, and again and a third time – each attempt resulting in failure. "Dammit," she cried, sinking back on her heels and glaring accusingly up at the newly risen moon. What the hell was the point of being a witch if she couldn't help her friends? Elena didn't deserve this – Damon didn't deserve it. Looking back at the body, she gently closed the dead girl's vacant eyes before meeting Damon's gaze and shaking her head. "I can't."
Stefan's heart sank as Bonnie choked on a sob and the last ray of hope died in his brother's eyes. Seething, Damon released Elena's hand and lurched to his feet. Turning away, he ran a hand through his hair as Stefan stared after him helplessly. He was lost and broken, immune to the apology tumbling from Bonnie's mouth. "I'm so sorry, Damon. I wish I was stronger, but I just…I'm not…I'm so-."
Suddenly, blinded by rage and pain, Damon whirled on her, grabbing her by the throat with one hand. Her eyes went wide with shock as she clawed at him ineffectually.
He began to squeeze.
Before he could choke the life out of her, a strong hand locked around his wrist and a commanding voice cut through the haze. "Damon. Stop."
Using all of his strength, Stefan pulled his brother off of the witch, hauling him back toward the rocks. Bonnie collapsed to the ground, gasping for air as she brought a hand to her bruised throat, but Stefan didn't have time to worry about her. The bruises would heal.
A crushed windpipe, courtesy of a grief-stricken Damon, wouldn't.
"Get the fuck off of me," Damon roared, wrenching out of Stefan's grip and using his full strength to throw him across the clearing. Slamming into a tree with bone-cracking force, Stefan felt his back break as he made contact. Landing on the ground in a heap, he fought through the pain, managing to climb to his knees before Damon came at him again.
"Guys, stop," Bonnie's anguished cry barely penetrated the sound of fists hitting flesh, grunts of pain and the cracking of tree branches. Human blood had made Stefan stronger and he'd intended on pulling his punches and letting Damon take out his grief with his fists, however, as the fight raged on without a sign of slowing down, he found himself fighting back in earnest just to fend off the blows.
Damon's fist connected with Stefan's jaw in a brutal right hook, breaking bones and sending him sprawling onto the ground. Reacting to the pain alone, he forgot his plan to play punching bag and picked up a thick, fallen branch. Swinging at Damon's right side with all of his strength, he heard a satisfying crunch as his brother's ribs shattered. The pain was enough to earn both of them a momentary reprieve.
"Damon, this won't help Elena," Stefan gasped, tossing the branch aside and leaning against a rock. Damon was doubled over in the middle of the clearing, one arm wrapped around his torso, the other braced on his thigh as he grit his teeth against the agony in his side. Spitting out a mouthful of blood, Stefan gently probed his tender jaw as he continued. "We need to take her home."
And I need to get you out of here before you completely break.
"Home," Damon sneered, straightening as he continued to hold his injured ribs. "And then what? Start planning her funeral? Pick out a coffin so we can stick her in the ground next to Jenna and John and her parents?" Shifting his gaze, he glared at Bonnie. "You two have fun with that. Go and do all of those useless things humans do to trick themselves into thinking they can forget and move on. I'm not interested."
"Who said anything about forgetting?" Stefan demanded indignantly. He and Elena may have gone their separate ways, but she was still his friend, still important to him. He wasn't in a hurry to put her in the past, he just wanted to get them out of there - get Damon away from this place where the air hung so thick with Elena's blood, Stefan doubted it would ever clear. "Let's just go. Elena wouldn't want-."
"Shut the hell up," his brother cried, whirling around with such ferocity that Stefan thought he was going to start another fight. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to tell me what Elena would want. You don't know her anymore, Stefan. You fucking left to be with Katherine. A phone call every few months doesn't give you the right."
"Damon, that's not-."
"No, Stefan," he replied, stalking over to him and hauling him off of the ground by his shirt. Glaring at him with eyes that were black and raw with pain, he hissed. "There's only one thing I can do for Elena now and it's going to make me feel a hell of a lot better than putting her in a fucking box."
"Killing Landis won't help," he insisted as Damon released him and tried to turn away. A hand on his arm stopped him before he could take a single step. "This won't bring her back."
Damon wrenched away, shouting. "He has to die."
"I know," Stefan replied with equal force, keeping pace as his brother made his way toward the edge of the clearing. "I know he does, and I'll help you. Elena first and then we can go after Landis together. We'll make him pay."
Damon stared at him for a long moment before once more turning his gaze back to Elena. Stefan looked away, unable to deal with the sheer magnitude of suffering he saw in his brother's expression. Anger welled up inside of him. If he'd just been stronger, if he'd just stayed away after he'd pulled her out of the water that night over four years ago, none of this would have happened. Elena would still be alive and blissfully ignorant of the supernatural things that went bump in the night.
When she'd first entered his life, Stefan had never dreamed that Elena would alter the course of his existence. Their romance had been a rocky one, ending as abruptly as it had started, but it had set him on his path to personal acceptance. It had given him his brother back. This…
This wasn't supposed to happen.
Elena wasn't supposed to die. Out of everyone, she was supposed to live. To survive.
Staring at her broken body, he realized one truth. Ultimately, he'd ruined her life.
And Damon's, he realized, turning back to his brother. In the end, Damon had done more to preserve the life of the girl now lying shattered on the ground in a metaphorical cemetery, and it had all amounted to nothing.
"You're right, okay? I don't know Elena anymore. Not like you do," he said, speaking quietly as he kept an eye on his brother. "But I know you, Damon. I know where your head is at right now and you can throw as many punches as you want, but Elena loved you and she wouldn't want you to get hurt trying to avenge her death."
Damon closed his eyes, clenching his jaw as the words struck him like a physical blow. Stefan cringed, but held his ground, knowing he was right. If Damon went after Landis now, with the grief and loss so fresh in his mind, he'd have no concern for his own self-preservation. Landis would undoubtedly die, but so, most likely, would his brother.
"He took her, Stefan, and now she's…," Damon trailed off and, opening his eyes, looked toward the trees where Elena's body lay beneath the sprawling oak. Shrugging, he began to back away as he said. "There's nothing left to hurt."
Knowing he'd lost the battle, Stefan sighed as his heart broke - for himself, for Jeremy and Alaric, for Bonnie and Caroline, but mostly for his brother.
He watched as Damon disappeared into the trees, chasing after the only thing he had left.
Revenge.
"You let him go?" Bonnie demanded as soon as he turned around.
"I don't know if you know this, but nobody let's Damon do anything," he replied wearily, massaging his healed, but sore jaw as he returned to Elena's side. "He's stronger than me. Not by much, but he is and eventually he would have gotten his way."
"So, what do we do now?"
Dragging a hand over his face, he sighed at the thought of returning to Mystic Falls with Elena's body and telling her friends – telling Jeremy – what had happened. "What I said. Take her home and…tell everybody."
A soft whoosh caught his attention, followed by a solid thud and Bonnie's surprised intake of breath as she stared over his shoulder. "Oh, my god."
Turning toward the new arrival, Stefan started in surprise. "Katherine," he said, as she rose from her crouched landing position and brushed the dust off of her hands. The sight of her was surreal after staring at Elena's lifeless body for the past half hour, but the relief he felt upon seeing her was stronger. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"You really think I was going to stay back in Mystic Falls and babysit?" she scoffed, making her way toward him across the clearing. "Please. I waited half an hour and then followed you."
"But the others-."
"Are fine. I disabled their cars," she assured him with a smirk. Glancing around the clearing, she asked. "Where's Damon? Oh."
A look of palpable shock passed over her features as her gaze landed upon Elena's body. Wide-eyed, she placed a hand on his arm. "Oh, shit. Stefan-."
"I'm okay," he assured her, taking her hand and pulling her into an embrace. Burying his face in her hair, he breathed in her familiar, comforting scent. Thank God it wasn't you, he thought, immediately burying the selfish, callous notion. When they came apart, he indulged his need to feel her warm, inviting lips beneath his before giving her the Cliff's Notes version of what had happened. "Damon's the one I'm worried about," he admitted when he'd finished, holding onto her tightly, as if she were anchoring him to the spot and he'd simply drift away into space if he let go. "He's gone after Landis."
"Well…yeah," Katherine replied, gesturing toward Elena and Bonnie and looking at him as if he'd lost his mind. "You didn't think he'd just let this slide, did you?"
"Of course not," he said. "But in the state he's in, I don't know if he's going to make it back."
"Do you think he wants to?" Katherine asked with complete sincerity. Lightly touching his cheek, she added. "I know I wouldn't be too concerned with my well-being if that were you lying on the ground without a hope of waking up again."
"That's not-," Stefan began, letting his head fall back so he could glare at the sky. Am I the only one who's not okay with Damon's death wish? Suddenly, his expression cleared. "Go with him."
"What? No," Katherine shook her head vehemently. "I'm sorry for his pain and all of that, but I'm not going on some revenge mission with him over Elena."
"Go with him," he insisted, the look in his eye silencing any protest. "And make sure he doesn't do anything that he can't come back from."
"Stefan," she whined, making a face at him.
"Please, Katherine," he said, tenderly caressing her cheek. Katherine softened even as she rolled her eyes. Stefan wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her closer. "I don't want my brother to die."
"You're a manipulative bastard, you know that?" she grumbled as she melted into his arms. Resting her forehead against his, she sank her long fingers into his hair before kissing him. "You owe me," she declared as she pulled away.
"I know," he replied, nearly smiling with relief.
"I'm keeping track," she warned, slowly pulling out of their embrace.
"Good," he replied as she started moving toward the tree line, his eyes locked on her form. "Keep your phone on."
Katherine nodded and he watched her as she disappeared into the thick forest, leaving him and Bonnie alone with Elena's body.
"Can we, um," Bonnie cleared her throat and raised her ruined voice. "Can we take Elena home now?"
"Yeah," Stefan nodded, tearing his gaze away from the trees and the spot where he'd last seen Katherine, focusing on Elena. Anger and sorrow warred within him, and shaking his head, he knelt on the ground at her side before lifting her carefully off of the ground. "Let's get her out of here."
Katherine easily maneuvered through the forest, racing through the thick underbrush and close growing trees as if she did it every day. The physical exertion felt good, a welcome distraction from the scene she'd come upon.
Dead. Elena Gilbert, the second Petrova doppelganger, was dead. Katherine couldn't fully wrap her mind around it. She had no love for the girl and her only sorrow over her death stemmed from what she knew it meant to the Salvatores, but she couldn't deny she was…well, shocked that they'd failed. They'd saved the danger prone human from every threat under the sun, had even bested an Original during the ongoing battle to keep her alive and this was how it had ended? At the hands of a puny little newbie vampire like Landis?
That was just fucking annoying.
Leaping over a fallen tree, she veered slightly to the right and picked up the speed. Damon's trail was easy to follow, his scent ingrained in her memory so deeply that she could have found it in the middle of a crowded city. He'd been moving fast, but she was faster and before so much as a bead of sweat had broken out on her brow, she burst through the trees, arriving back at the resort.
Slowing to a jog, she wove through the free-standing cabins and made her way to the gravel parking lot. Damon was standing near the black SUV, clinging to the luggage rack on the roof with a white-knuckled grip as he let his forehead rest against the driver's side window. Even with his back to her and without seeing his face, the sheer anguish radiating off of him was suffocating.
Dammit, Elena, why'd you have to die? she wondered, knowing that if the shoe were on the other foot, if she'd lost Stefan, she would be equally destroyed.
"Damon," she said, keeping a good six feet of separation between them in case he flipped out and went for her throat again. He made no indication that he'd heard her, his body as rigid as a statue where it stood. Clearing her throat, she tried again. "Damon."
"Go away, Katherine," Damon replied without questioning her presence.
Sighing, she advanced a few steps closer. "I can't," she said. "I wish I could, but I promised Stefan I wouldn't let you kill yourself."
"I don't give a fuck what you promised him," he snapped. "Leave."
"No," she replied, closing the distance between them one step at a time. "I'm not leaving you like this. I'm going to help you get revenge for Elena-."
Moving faster than expected, he grabbed her by the back of the head and slammed her into the hood of the SUV. "Don't you dare say her name," he hissed into her ear as he leaned into her with his full weight, twisting a handful of hair hard enough to make it hurt. Wincing against the pain, Katherine indulged him for a moment as he continued. "Don't pretend you care. I stopped believing your lies a long time ago."
Oh, for fuck's sake, she thought, rolling her eyes at his melodramatic speech. Twisting out of his grasp faster than he could register the movement, she turned the tables on him. Grabbing him by the throat this time, she flipped him onto the hard-packed gravel. He landed on his back with an audible oomph as the wind was knocked out of his lungs.
"I'm getting tired of being attacked," she said, planting a foot on either side of his body and crouching over him. The hulking body of the vehicle blocked out the moonlight, but that didn't stop Katherine from seeing the raw anguish mixed with hatred in Damon's blue eyes. "You know it's pointless."
Gripping her wrist, he squeezed it hard enough to crack the delicate bones beneath her skin, but she didn't ease up, didn't react to the pain that shot up her arm. Instead, she focused on him, narrowing her eyes as she tried to figure out how to reason with a man crippled by grief. She was comfortable with his hatred and anger, expected it really, in a way that often made things awkward when he wasn't looking at her like he wanted to rip her throat out. But this…this was different. He couldn't even look at her.
Shit.
Of course.
Understanding hit her at once, making her feel like an absolute fool for not realizing it the second he turned on her back in Mystic Falls. Sinking to her knees, she sat on his legs and reached for his face. "Damon, look at me."
"Get off of me," he argued, stubbornly refusing to meet her eye.
"Look. At. Me," she demanded, using her superior strength to force the issue. Finally, he focused on her face. "I'm not her."
"What the hell are you talking about?" he muttered, trying to twist out of her grasp, but she dug her knees into his ribs and tightened her grip on his throat.
"Elena," she said. "I'm not Elena. I know you see her when you look at me, but I am not her."
Damon quit fighting, staring at her with dry, red eyes. "That's the problem."
Leaning closer, Katherine looked beyond the feeble walls he'd tried to erect to the fathomless wells of pain behind his eyes. He's drowning in it, she realized as another pang of sympathy hit her harder than before. Nodding, she knew what had to be done. "Turn it off."
"What?"
"Your humanity," she explained. "Flip the switch and turn it off."
"The switch is bullshit," he retorted, watching her now with an unwavering gaze, almost as if he couldn't look away. "There is no off. It always comes back."
"I know, but you don't need always, you just need right now," she reasoned, loosening her grip on his chin. "You need to be able to look at me without losing it. You need to be able to think clearly and rationally if you want to get your revenge for Elena's de-."
"Don't," he whispered, silencing her with the sharp edge of his despair. Closing his eyes briefly, he swallowed.
Jesus. He couldn't even hear the word spoken aloud.
No longer fighting her, he clung to her wrist with both hands as his chest rose and fell in quick shallow breaths beneath her. Fuck, Damon, you're killing me, she thought as she released his throat and took his face between her hands. Not for the first time, she envied the Originals and their ability to compel other vampires. At the moment, she would have given anything for the ability to compel Damon to forget he'd ever met Elena.
Leaning closer until her hair fell in a curtain of curls around his head, blocking out everything but her face, she pushed every bit of compulsive power at him anyway. "Turn it off, Damon," she murmured softly.
"You can't compel me, Katherine."
"I'm not compelling," she argued. "I'm begging."
"Why do you even care? You hated her. You hate me," he replied, his voice cracking under the weight of so much grief. "You've always loved watching me suffer."
"Priorities change," she shrugged. "Watching you self-destruct isn't on my must see list anymore. Do it, Damon."
He held her gaze for several long moments – during which she was certain he was just working out his next argument – before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. Katherine watched him carefully, noting each minute change in his features – the line that appeared between his brows, the tick of a muscle in his jaw – until finally, his lashes fluttered and he released the breath he'd been holding.
The familiar blue eyes that stared into hers were empty, cold and clear. Raising a brow, she asked. "Better?"
He stared at her, his gaze darting over her features, before reaching up to cover her hands with his own. Locking his fingers around her wrists, he ordered in a calm, even tone. "Get off of me."
Silently, she obeyed, eyeing him warily as she first sat back on her heels, then slowly rose to her feet. Reaching out a hand, she helped him up, noting the way everything around them looked exactly the same and yet felt exponentially different.
Even the air seemed lighter.
"Well, that certainly worked," she sighed, brushing gravel dust from her black pants. "What now? Any idea where to start tracking down Landis?"
"Yup," Damon declared with a sharp nod as he opened the door of the SUV and slipped behind the wheel. Okay, Katherine thought as she blurred around to the passenger's side.
"So where do we go to catch a homicidal vampire?" she asked, closing the door before stretching out her longs legs.
"South Carolina," Damon said, smirking at Katherine's shocked expression as he twisted the key, shifted into reverse and stomped on the accelerator. The vehicle roared to life, the tires spitting up gravel as he peeled out of the parking lot.
Rolling down the window of the rental car Katherine had left at the resort when she'd vanished with Damon, Stefan breathed in the fresh night air. Bonnie sat in the back seat, cradling Elena's body in her lap. The interior of the car reeked of blood, making his head pound and his throat ache with thirst.
It sickened him.
Although he'd learned to completely control his reaction to the bloodlust since the summer it had changed his life, the lust was still there, calling to him, begging him to give in. He hated that it was rearing its head because of Elena's blood.
Because of her…death.
Fresh failure sliced through him, robbing him of breath as his brain struggled to accept the truth. Elena was dead, killed with almost no warning by an enemy no one had seen coming.
How was that even possible?
The highway stretched out into the darkness as he wrestled with the coulda, woulda, shoulda's of the night. Damon should havewaited before stepping out into that clearing, because Bonnie would havebeen able to brain whammy Landis as soon as he'd stepped away from the edge of the cliff. He could have been picking a very much alive Elena up off of the clearing floor instead of scraping her off of the rocks at the foot of the cliff.
Shaking his head, Stefan sighed. Hindsight was twenty-twenty. If he'd been in Damon's shoes, he probably would have done the same thing. The bitter reality was that they'd been caught off guard and underestimated Landis.
Elena had paid for that mistake with her life.
Stefan had seen countless people – humans – grow old and die in his unnatural lifetime. He'd accepted it as a part of the natural order of things – something that he, a decidedly unnatural being, couldn't have.
But Elena had been different. The time he'd spent with her – loving her – seemed like a dream, pleasant but…wrong. She belonged with Damon. It had taken some time for Stefan to think about the two of them together without feeling uncomfortable, but now, after three years, he couldn't think of them any other way. Together or apart, Elena had become an indelible part of his existence and now she was just…
Gone.
Stefan stared indecisively at his cell phone, his thumb hovering over the 'send' button as the light dimmed on the number displayed on the touch screen.
Elena's number.
It was her birthday and for some utterly insane reason he'd decided a week ago to mark the occasion with a phone call. They hadn't spoken in nearly two years – not since the horrific conversation when he'd callously told her that he didn't regret throwing her into the side of a brick building and leaving her for dead – and he'd spent the week rehearsing exactly what he'd say when she answered the phone.
When he hadn't been telling himself to forget the whole thing, of course.
He knew it was arrogant to think she even wanted to hear from him. He and Damon never spoke of her directly, but based on certain things his brother had said, Stefan knew that she was happy – that they were both happy – in Atlanta. Damon would make sure she stayed that way whether he worked up the courage to call her or not, so what was he beating himself up about?
"Stefan, we're going to miss our reservation," Katherine called from the other side of the door of their penthouse suite.
"We don't have a reservation," he reminded her, holding his phone out of sight as she poked her head into the bathroom and grinned.
"I know. I just like saying that," she teased, giving him a wink as she turned away in a flourish of curls and curve-hugging leather. Katherine knew about his conversations with Damon and harassed him endlessly about it, but she had no idea he'd been contemplating a phone call to Elena today of all days.
After all, it was Katherine's birthday, too.
"Hurry up!" she insisted.
Stefan cursed softly – too soft for Katherine to hear – and poked his head out of the bathroom. Lounging on the bed, she sipped champagne from a tall crystal flute, fixing him with a coy smile when she caught his eye.
"I'll be just a minute," he said, leaning against the doorframe and letting his eyes travel over her body appreciatively. "Then we'll go, I promise."
"I swear, it takes you longer to do your hair than it does me," she groused good-naturedly as he ducked back inside of the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He felt like a heel, keeping this secret from her, and he promised himself he'd tell her...eventually. She didn't need to hear that he was calling his ex-girlfriend, who just happened to be her literal doppelganger, on her birthday.
Okay, Salvatore, he thought, pushing a button on his phone and bringing it to life. He rehearsed what he wanted to say as Elena's number stared at him accusingly.
I'm sorry, Elena. I owe you so much more than an apology for what I did to you in Savannah, the way we ended things and for taking so long to work up the courage to contact you, but it's the best I can do. I'm glad you're with Damon. Glad you're happy. It took me a long time, but I've finally figured out this vampire thing. I know who I am now, how to be and I'm happy, too. Things between us don't have to remain strained. If you want to – if you could find it in your heart – I'd like to start over. To be friends. Happy Birthday, Elena.
It was a good speech, covering everything he wanted to say without being too pushy or making it seem like he assumed she'd feel the same. He wasn't naïve enough to think that one apology would mend all the wrongs between them, but he had to start somewhere.
Taking a breath, he pushed a button and brought the phone to his ear. Ring after ring echoed inside of his head until her voicemail picked up and Elena's recorded message played.
Hi, you've reached Elena. Sorry I can't get to my phone right now, but if you leave me a message, I'll get back to you.
The chipper voice sounded exactly like Katherine, yet nothing like her and it rendered Stefan speechless as all of his pretty words flew from his mind. He winced as the beep sounded loudly in his ear, reminding him to speak. Swallowing, he opened his mouth a few times before murmuring quietly…
"Happy Birthday, Elena."
…and then he hung up.
The rental car quickly devoured the two hundred mile drive and before Stefan was ready, they were passing the "Welcome to Mystic Falls" sign on the outskirts of town. He went slowly, minding the speed limit as he drove through the silent town square. All too soon, however, he was turning into the driveway of a house he still thought of as home.
Putting the car into park, he looked toward the front windows and noticed Caroline immediately. She'd been leaning against the window, but perked up at the sound of the engine. Blond hair flew as she looked over her shoulder and suddenly Tyler appeared at her side. A second later Jeremy and Alaric joined them.
Shit.
Sighing, he scrubbed a hand over his face and glanced into the rearview mirror. Clearing his throat, he asked. "Are you ready for this?"
Bonnie shook her head, wiping away tears that wouldn't stop flowing. "No."
"Yeah," he sighed, turning the key in the ignition and unbuckling his seat belt. "Me neither."