(The Stars Were Brightly Shining)

by adlyb

Disclaimer: I own nothing except these words.

Summary: After a one night stand with Klaus, Elena discovers she's not going to be alone for Christmas after all.

Spoilers: Seasons 3 & 4

Rating: R

Warnings: canon typical violence/ teen pregnancy / angst angst angst and Christmas


"Why are you following me, Klaus?" she calls into the cold night air.

Slowly, he draws nearer to her. "You're hiding something from me. I want to know what."

"The identity of my child's father?"

He doesn't respond, just continues his steady stare.

"I thought you didn't care," she reminds him.

"Tell me why you broke into my home and ruined my painting."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He leans against the porch column. "You're usually a better liar than this."

"Oh?"

"But your scent was all over my house. As it was, coincidentally, when I returned last week. Have you whiled away many hours there in my absence?"

"Only to confirm that you were really truly gone. I guess some things are too good to be true."

His mouth tips up into an amused little half-smile. "Come now. You've probably been more entertained the past week playing cat-and-mouse with me than you have been since my departure."

"Actually, I've been kind of preoccupied since you left. Doctor's appointments, setting up the nursery, pre-natal yoga. I'd forgotten about you completely."

He maneuvers into her space in an instant, crowding her back against the porch swing as he leans over her and examines her face closely, his gaze razor sharp upon her. "I shall endeavor to remind you then." He opens his mouth as though to say something more, but the wind shifts, cold and flavored with woodsmoke, and Elena shivers, and it's that, just that simple little moment, that catches him up.

She can see the moment his thoughts shift, the way that moonlight changes the shape of things in the dark. One moment, he's furious, and the next, he's ducking forward to capture her mouth against his own, the heat of his lips moving against hers searing through her brain like a lightning strike. Whatever she might have said next disappears as her thoughts white out and all she can focus on is the overwhelming immediacy of Klaus grappling her body up against his own.

Kissing Klaus again is like tumbling back into a dream. Falling endlessly into a memory that she's more than half-convinced herself cannot really be true, a recollection that had to have been mostly fantasy, something invented by her intimacy-starved heart, because there was no way any two people could achieve the kind of profound intimacy they had achieved that night.

And yet—and yet—she can taste the same hunger in him that she feels in herself. The same loneliness on his lips that had first drawn her in. The power of that remembered flavor draws her in with a crushing, seductive urgency. With the intimation that if she only stays here with him long enough, he'll devour her again, offer her that death she still dreams about—

No.

No. She doesn't want that anymore. Doesn't want him.

She has other, brighter things, now.

She tears herself away from him and scrambles over to the other side of the porch. Watches as Klaus remains frozen, clenching his empty hands, before turning to face her, his face carefully blank but his eyes blazing.

"What the fuck, Klaus."

"I wasn't aware that Southern ladies used such language."

"What the fuck! What is this? You give me the cold shoulder for months after we sleep together, and then you come back here and act like a jealous boyfriend because why? Because I'm pregnant and you can't stand the idea that someone else played with your toy? Well fuck you! I'm not yours, not now, not ever—"

He wraps his palm around her throat and pushes her back against the wall between one second and the next. Her head cracks against the wood siding, the pain lancing through the back of her skull feeding into the fury bubbling through her blood. She claws at Klaus's hand like an animal, kicking out as hard as she can and taking vicious satisfaction when her nails draw blood and her feet strike flesh.

"You have always belonged to me, sweetheart," Klaus hisses in her ear, ignoring her struggling and bucking against him as completely as though she were a gnat. "You belonged to me before you were born, and every day since."

"No. I fulfilled my part of that bargain last spring," she spits. "Whatever connection might have existed between us ended when you killed me—"

He releases her. "Then how is it I cannot get you out of my head?"

Elena rubs at her throat. "What?"

"You. I've thought of near nothing else since that night—"

"That night." She laughs at him, bitterly. "You think I'm going to believe that you cared at all about any of that? As far as I can tell, you were just playing with me."

"You know that I wasn't."

God, he has to be delusional if he thinks she's going to fall for any of this! Whatever game he's playing, he's apparently deemed it necessary to gaslight her, and she would applaud the effort if she wasn't so direly insulted that he would try to play with her emotions like this.

"You told Tyler to bite Caroline the next morning," she points out. "And you were horrible to me the next night! Why would you do any of that if you cared?"

"Because you made me weak, and I couldn't stand it."

She narrows her eyes at him. "I don't believe you. You're just trying to manipulate me into something, but guess what? It won't work."

Klaus reaches for her again, but she flinches away from him.

Dropping his hand back to his side, he tries to persuade her. "I could already see how this would play out—you in love with each of the Salvatore brothers, and the two of them using you to get at me, just as Stefan did the very next night. I couldn't allow that. Better far to keep you at a distance. For myself, and for you."

Elena stares at him. He'd hurt her badly last fall. Had come into her life in a time when she'd been isolated from absolutely everyone, when she'd needed someone, anyone, to connect with, only for him to rip apart whatever fragile happiness he'd given her the very next day. It had been cruelly done. Had affected her worse than she could ever bear to let on. Thinking on any of it now, on Klaus, on the things he's just said to her, makes her head spin. How dare he press her on this. How dare he sound so convincing? Her breaths come in short, ragged pants, as though she'd just run a long, hard race over harsh terrain. She can't do this. She can't have this conversation. She can't let herself believe him even for an instant, because no matter what, he's lying and she just has to remember it—

She stares into his face, and she knows. He's telling her the truth, as selfish and screwed up as it is. In his twisted way, he had pushed her away and preferred for her to search out his death rather than remain close to him, because he had felt it to be the better option for them both. Because he was too afraid of the intimacy she had offered him. She looks at him and she knows he's telling the truth, because she knows him, even though she wishes she didn't. Even though she has regretted letting herself come to know him with every fiber of her being.

Reeling, she circles around him, so she doesn't have to see his face as she asks him lowly, "Even if I do believe you, am I supposed to just forgive you now?"

Klaus turns with her, tracking her every movement. As though he can sense her weakening toward him. "Have I not forgiven you for worse?"

"Like what?"

"The murder of my brother. Your numerous attempts to destroy me."

"I'll give you a list of the things you've done as bad or worse to me. Between the two of us, it's still you who's in the red."

"I'm sure you'll find a way to amend that."

Elena comes to a pause and leans back against the cool solid wood of the front door. "Don't force my hand, and I won't." She presses her cheek into her shoulder. "I don't want this kind of life anymore," she admits. "I just—I want to be quiet, and to know that everyone I love is safe, and to go to bed at night and only worry about normal things—"

"You're not a normal girl."

"But I want to be."

"You just told me not three months ago that a normal life held no interest for you."

"Things change."

"Because of the child."

"Yes."

He reads it for what it is. A rejection, plain and simple.

A storm passes over Klaus's face. "Who is the father of your child, Elena?"

"This again?"

He stalks forward and plants his hands on either side of the door, pinning her in the cage of his arms. "Who was it who pleased you enough to finally tempt you free from the Salvatores?" Naked jealousy, worse, somehow, in its clarity than it had been last week, now that she understands him better, drips from his voice. "Who do you prize so highly that you persist in shielding him from me?"

She could tell him now. End his jealousy. But that would be a kindness, and she can't find it within her heart to give him even the smallest portion of her kindness. She has so little of it left. The last time she had offered it to him, he had slapped her hand away. She couldn't bear if he were to do that to her again.

She's more afraid of what would happen if he didn't.

Elena fingers fumble for the door latch. The door swings open behind her, and she practically throws herself back over the threshold—but not fast enough. Klaus catches her by the front of her shirt and drags her back over the threshold before she can make a clean escape.

"Did you think that was subtle?" he asks.

"Not really," she tells him, her heart racing madly. She yanks a bottle of distilled vervain water from her pocket and upends it on his hands.

He startles enough when his flesh boils that he drops his hold on her, just long enough for her to stumble back across the threshold.

He gives her a withering look as she straightens up within the protection of her home. "Are you going to hide inside your home forever instead of facing me?"

"I came outside to meet you tonight, didn't I?"

Klaus tilts his head. "Listen to your heart go. You're afraid. Though, you weren't, until just a few moments ago. Why is that? Are you afraid for your lover… or afraid that you may want what I'm offering you?"

Hurriedly, she slams the door in his face.

"Elena, we're not finished here," he yells through the door. "Come out and talk to me now, or better yet invite me in, and we need not involve another soul."

She puts her hands over her ears and races up the stairs. Dives under her covers and pretends she can't practically feel Klaus malingering outside, under that tree, his eyes burning in fury as he stares up at her bedroom window.

It's an empty threat, she assures herself. There's no lover to speak of, so there's nothing to worry about.


A/N: Thanks for reading, please review if you're enjoying this fic and are interested to see where it goes! Also, you can find me on tumblr over at livlepretre - I post a lot about my fics and a lot of tvd content in between updates.