Chasing after Stefan all summer is almost fun. Not the worry or fear that he is dead or the guilt she feels over a meaningless goodbye kiss to a not quite dying Damon. It's more that she's finally the pursuer instead of the pursued. She's been on the defense for such a long time and that's not her. Before her world had been flipped upside down, Elena had preferred playing offensive.
She's rightfully annoyed when Damon leaves her in Stefan's untouched Chicago apartment to go chase a lead with the witch, Gloria. Reading through Stefan's journals and his journey back to sobriety with Lexi exposes a seed of guilt in her stomach. It grows with each page she turns nurtured by the horrific details Stefan would never tell her himself. She freezes for a moment when she hears Klaus's voice outside the paper-thin walls.
Shit. He's not supposed to know. It's the one thing I have. The one advantage.
There will be time to berate herself later so she grabs her bags as quietly as she can manage and tip toes into Stefan's pantry hideaway. The door opens and she's a shaking mess doing everything she can to steady her racing heartbeat.
Breathe. Just breathe. Stay quiet and get through this.
To her relief, it's Stefan who walks in. For a moment it's just the two of them and he looks at her like he wants to smile, but forgot how. It would be dangerous, but she wants nothing more than to collapse in his arms in a flurry of kisses that say everything she can't.
"Look what I found," he calls out to Klaus and she bites the inside of her lip hard enough to draw blood. He grabs a bottle from the shelf and presents it to the hybrid, a well-executed and improvised distraction. She lets out a sigh when she hears the door close and brings out her phone, scrolling down to Damon's name ready to berate him for leaving her behind.
Suddenly, the phone is out of her hand and she's face to face with Klaus. He crushes it, letting her only hope of escape fall to the ground, destroying her lifeline to Damon. She's spent the entire summer dreaming about him killing her, over and over. But there's something about being here with him in person that makes those nightmares pale in comparison. Her skin flushes hot with the memory of his hands under her breast and his teeth buried in her neck.
"Now I understand where I went wrong. See, my little doppelgänger, most people have the decency to stay dead once I kill them." It had been a test. Klaus knew she was here the moment he stepped foot in the house. He had led Stefan right to the exam and watched him fail. "I'm disappointed in you, Stefan. I had figured with your humanity off, you had left your loyalty to this girl behind. I suppose it would have, had she managed to perform her part the way she was meant to."
Klaus reaches out and grabs her roughly by her elbow, dragging her out of her hiding place and into the open space of the efficiency. He shoves her off when she trips over her own feet and crashes into his chest. "So, either of you care to enlighten me on how this happened?" He's surprised that it's Elena who answers him.
"Damon forced his blood on me before the ritual. Bonnie found a magical loophole and kept me human. Alive."
"She's the reason I can't make hybrids. We are going to have to repeat all of this again, love, all because you can't do this one simple thing right the first time. Which of your family should I turn this time?"
"But it worked. I did die and you are a hybrid." Klaus refuses to look at Elena though his grip on her tightens.
"Gloria said there's always a loophole." Stefan offers. He also seems to be unable to make eye contact with her, though for drastically different reasons. "You said it yourself. You did everything you were asked to do. You did it all the right way. You killed a vampire. You killed a werewolf. And El-, the doppelgänger did die. You had to have felt that."
"What are you saying, Stefan?"
"The Original Witch cursed your werewolf side so that you couldn't be both. It would create an imbalance in nature, but you broke her curse. You knew her. Would she have put a loophole in the spell? Something that would stop you from blaspheming against nature?"
Klaus seems to be considering this line of logic and the pressure on her elbow lightens for a moment before he slings her into Stefan's arms. "We're leaving the city tonight. Bring her along."
"Wait? What? Why? She's useless."
"No, that's where you're wrong, Stefan. Doppelgänger blood is far from useless." His grin spells out her doom, not even Stefan can save her.
That small, sad room in Chicago is the last thing she remembers before she comes to on the balcony of a condo overlooking a city skyline. She reaches up to her necklace, disappointed to find it gone and even more rueful that she'd relied solely on the vervain in it to protect her.
It's warm and a little humid outside so she presumes they are back somewhere in the south. Stefan stands next to her, setting his hand on the railway and quickly retreating from her when she moves closer to him.
"We're in Nashville. To make hybrids for Klaus. If this works the way he thinks it will, he won't let you go Elena. Ever. It was reckless of Damon to bring you to Chicago." His words are low and hushed, admonishing and catching her up to speed at the same time before Klaus can interrupt them,
"I had to find you, Stefan. You've never given up on me. How could I give up on you?"
"I'm already gone, Elena. Did you see what I've been doing? There's no coming back for me. You should have moved on. What we had is over."
"You've come back from this before, Stefan. I read it in your journals. Lexi brought you back and so can I."
"Then you saw how long it took." She nods at him like the time doesn't mean anything to her. "Thirty years, Elena. That's half your life. You can't give that up for me. You can't give that up for anyone."
"I won't give up on you, Stefan." She reaches out to touch him, but he steps back from her. "Ever," she promises, especially now that he's her only hope.
"My how heartwarming. My old friend and my doppelgänger." Klaus haunts the open sliding glass door with his menacing smile. "Oh no. Trouble in paradise? Was I interrupting a serious conversation? You're not already having a spat. How awkward. This will be a long forever if you keep that up."
Klaus is quick to take her blood through a compelled nurse and a blood bag. All very sanitary and professional. He doesn't trust her safety in the woods with the werewolves and it's the most kindness he's shown her since her abduction. Still, he is urgent to test out his theory. He is careful to seal up any potential loopholes in his compulsion when he and Stefan leave for the woods. It's as if he already knows her mind as he spells out each instruction in an abundance of detail.
Over the next few weeks she does her best to avoid him, his presence freezes any room he enters. At the same time, she sniffs out any opportunity to corner Stefan when he's alone. He was right. Once Klaus found out that her blood was the key to unlocking his hybrid army, he made it known that she'd be with him until she died.
"Of course she would make your blood the key. I appreciate it though. Very poetic making you entirely necessary for both. Hope she doesn't mind you rising from the dead to come to my aid. Sort of a reverse Romeo and Juliet." He chuckles when she flinches at his touch.
But just because Stefan was right, doesn't mean she has any intention of stopping her efforts to save him. If anything, knowing she has no future outside of Klaus has strengthen her resolution. It's funneled her focus and she ignores everything outside of Stefan.
Sometimes, she feels like the angel fighting Klaus's devil over Stefan's soul. If she is, she isn't a very good angel. Nothing she says to Stefan seems to work. Every memory she brings up, every declaration of love, every trick she can think of to trigger his emotions fail completely. His blood addiction is too strong and his desire not to be overwhelmed by guilt too deep. She can't even scratch the surface.
She catches him alone in the kitchen, stark in its minimalism. It's early still and Klaus has not left his room yet. She walks behind Stefan, gliding her fingers across his arm and then to his back. "Do you remember that night Jeremy let you in to make me my favorite dinner? You told me that I at least deserved to get to know the person I was dumping."
"You should have stopped talking to me then." His lip flutters in a suppressed grin. "I put you in danger just by knowing you."
"No, Stefan. That's when I knew I couldn't walk away from you. Not with how I felt."
"A little chicken parmesan and some vulnerability was all it took?" He's quick to leave, escape her and flee into his room. At first, she worries it does nothing, but the next evening Stefan is in the kitchen cutting up garlic and mozzarella.
"Store bought," he says with a hint of an apology and she smiles. "Klaus mentioned that you were looking sickly after some of the donations. Protein will help keep you heathy."
"Right. God forbid Klaus take too much and kill me by mistake."
Another day, he finds her sitting outside enjoying the sun with her journal in hand. She sits up straighter, arching her back just a little when she sees him. He's started willingly seeking her out and she'll stoop to any trick to keep him coming around. It just so happens that flirting happens to be her greatest skill.
"Don't you get tired of keeping this up to date? What could you possibly be writing about?"
"Nothing as exciting as a school dance." She feels like Damon the way she sardonically teases Stefan.
"You should be careful what you say in there. If Klaus gets curious enough, he won't respect your privacy."
"Worried about me, Stefan?"
"I'm worried about what your words would inspire in Klaus. He's unpredictable and you have a way of inspiring passion from the people around you. Good or bad." Elena is quiet for a moment, absorbing Stefan's warning. "You were supposed to stay home, live out the rest of your life. Klaus is like gunpowder and you are…"
"A flame?"
"Something like that."
"What aren't you saying?" Stefan doesn't tell her about how Klaus can be obsessive. Possessive. Regressive.
The stories Klaus has drunkenly relayed to Stefan on their nights out, away from Elena, about his own sibling rivalry with Elijah over a Petrova. He doesn't tell her how sometimes he catches Klaus looking at her when she has her eyes trained on him. He doesn't mention the times Klaus has awkwardly asked for the intimate details of their life together. He tries to forget the look in Klaus's eye when he proudly relayed the story of his stolen kiss from Tatia.
"Just don't rock the boat, okay?" He moves to stand, but she's quicker than him for once. She's been anticipating him leaving ever since he sat down. Elena has her hands on Stefan's face, locking his eyes on hers.
"You can come back to me, Stefan. Anytime you want. I'll always be here for you." She glances down as he licks his lips and she thinks maybe, finally, he'll kiss her. But Klaus clears his throat behind them and Stefan moves away from her like he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
"Love? How would you like to accompany Stefan and me on a night out on the town?" He phrases it like a question, but she knows better. Klaus may ask, but he's only giving her the illusion of choice.
She finds an outfit laid out for her on her bed. A blue cocktail dress with a flowing skirt and a long-sleeved top made of lace. It almost suits her except for the exposed back, dipping further down than she's comfortable with. When she shimmies into it, the back dips far enough to show off the two dimples at her lower back. She wants to change, but he's left her a note in his long, loopy script.
The dress is a non-negotiable. Everything else is yours to decide.
She washes her face and applies a light touch to her make-up, then changes her mind. She saw how Stefan looked at her in her bikini top just now. Maybe if their memories or love weren't enough, she could seduce the humanity out of him. It couldn't hurt. She works at a smoky eye, trying to highlight her eyes. She'd never been exceptionally good at doing her hair so she opts for a simply ponytail. The most sophistication she can offer is pinning a small section of her hair over the elastic to hide it.
Stefan and Klaus look identical waiting for her in the living room. Stefan takes a deep breath and she smiles, feeling like changing her make-up was worth it. She's so preoccupied with her small victory with Stefan that she misses the way Klaus hungrily looks her over.
"I suppose this will do," Klaus says, standing up to offer her his arm. He doesn't question the confusion that is on her face right now because why the hell is he acting this – normal. Stefan could save her by holding out his own arm, but the three of them wouldn't fit through the door without some uncomfortable fumbling. With Stefan's warning from earlier, she begrudgingly slips her hand through Klaus's outstretched invitation.
Klaus's driver, another new hybrid, takes them to a steak house downtown. It's certainly fancier than any place Elena has ever eaten, but nothing ever seems to match the grandiosity of Klaus. She hates to admit it, but he makes everything seem boring and predictable in comparison. The hostess leads them a private room with a great view of the Frist Art Museum. She feels out of place here, in this expensive dress in this room that is all hard wood and masculinity. The table must seat over twenty people and it strikes her as odd that it's just the three of them.
She takes a seat that gives her the chance to stare out the window and the men take their place on either side of her. It all feels absurdly benign and then the door opens again. Elena turns around and watches women in blue file in and take up the empty seats around the three of them. She counts them silently as they walk in. Five, Thirteen, Eighteen. It's only when she's done counting and they are all seated when she realizes that they all have olive skin with dark hair and brown eyes.
Her lower lip quivers, realizing how long Klaus must have been organizing this dinner. Each woman has that blank, complacent look of strong compulsion. When the staff returns with drinks, she checks their expressions as well. More of the same.
"What are you doing?" she looks at the hybrid, horrified.
"You've been cooped up in that house with me and Stefan for so many weeks now. I thought we all deserved a night out on the town. What's that expression I love so much, Stefan?"
"Paint the town red." Stefan looks sick trying to restrain himself in front of Elena, but the black veins creep across his face with ease. Klaus teases her for the entire dinner by acting completely civil. He regales them with stories of life before even Stefan was born. He orders an abundance of food and drinks the entire time. Elena realizes that he's being festive, relishing in the spotlight of their focus even if they are all forced to be here in one way or another. He's like a child, clamoring for love and admiration. She'd feel sad for him if Jenna's ashen face wasn't in the forefront of her mind.
It's when she picks up her empty cup for the third time that she realizes she hasn't seen a waiter in ages. Klaus notices and holds up his glass to pour the rest of his wine into her cup.
"What do you say, Stefan? Time for dessert?"
Stefan has been steadily losing his battle next to her. His eyes look up wildly searching from a clammy face. "Dessert?" he manages to choke out.
Elena reaches out to touch his shoulders, a gesture meant to comfort, but Stefan's face changes on a dime. His fangs descend and he glares at her with blood-shot eyes. He pulls her in with a clear aim for her throat and she stifles a scream.
Before Stefan can do hurt her, Klaus has an arm in between them and with a booming voice, he commands the younger vampire. "Not her!" Stefan's face is still contorted, but he looks to Klaus who gestures to the other women. "Any of them will do fine."
Stefan begins to tear into her false copies and it disturbs her even more that they don't move to fight back even though their blood sprays out with every messy bite. They've been compelled to go silently to their death and its all the more upsetting for Elena, who manages to spit in the face of death even when she chooses it.
Klaus stands and with a hand at her exposed back, he guides her out of the room. She doesn't know what to say or do. The rest of the restaurant has gone on like a massacre isn't happening in the other room. As they walk outside, Klaus slips a finger between the thin fabric of her dress and her skin. It dips down and she shivers as he takes liberties he hasn't earned yet.
"What are you doing?" she asks, pulling back from him.
"I'd thought it obvious." He moves to touch her again and she takes another step back.
"No, not that. What was that in there? Why create this big spectacle? Why kill all those women? What was the message?" Another question lingers on her tongue, one she is too afraid to ask. Why pick women who could be mistaken for me? Dress us up the same like some kind of perverted dating show?
"You've been getting too comfortable with Stefan. Having him cook for you. Sitting outside reading together. Teasing him." For a moment, she can hear jealousy in his voice, but it's too outlandish to believe. "You need to see him for all that he is. In all his glory. He is a ripper and a truly splendid one. Your love doesn't cure him of that."
"He will hate you for making him into this. For making him do this in front of me."
"I didn't make him like this, love. He came to me this way, I'm just reminding him of better days. He was so perfect. You are the one suffocating him. He'll kill himself trying to please you. And then what will we do?"
Klaus brings her back to the apartment, trusting the entranced staff to clean up Stefan's mess. At some point in the night, he wanders back in and his shirt is soaked through in blood. The pillows on either side of Elena act as a pitiful defense, but they must work because she hardly stirs when Stefan traces his hand down her face, leaving a slash of red on her otherwise clean skin. He sees flashes of dark hair sticking to his skin when he looks at her and rushes off to write down their names so he'll never forget.
In the morning, she scrubs her face raw trying to expel his hand prints off her body and out of her mind.
She'd been building up to his salvation timidly, but Klaus destroyed all the small moments she had managed with Stefan, who can barely look at her now. Not that it was working. None of the memories or her earnest vows of love have brought him back the way she wanted. If Klaus could play dirty, than so would she. If love wouldn't bring Stefan's humanity back, then maybe she could fuck it out of him.
It's midnight and her ear is pressed to her door listening for Stefan and Klaus to come back. The more wolves he turns, the more he likes to celebrate and tonight is no exception. Every laugh is knife in her heart and every hushed whisper solidifies her resolve. She can't waste any more time on her soft approach when Klaus's hold on Stefan grows by the day.
It's dark and quiet in the living room, but she's been sitting in her own room with the lights off adjusting her eye sight as she eavesdropped on them. Finally, the apartment is quiet and still as they to go to sleep. She pads her way to Stefan's room, her fingers tremble when she reaches out to turn the doorknob. He's in a chair facing the skyline, rapidly scribbling his names in his journal like he's unlocked the meaning of life and is afraid he'll forget. The floor creaks under her feet and Stefan stops, but doesn't look back at her.
"What are you doing in here, Elena?"
"Do I need a reason to see you?"
"You've been avoiding me. You're disgusted with the monster you saw at dinner," he accuses and she suppresses the need to argue. He stumbles over whatever he was about to say next when he sees her in the dark in front of him, wearing a dark violet wrap dress. He sits up in the chair, flushing his back tight to the cushion. "Elena…"
She leans over to kiss his cheek and whisper, "Do you not want me anymore, Stefan?" Her fingers play along the line of his waistband.
"I do. Of course I still want you. Any man would." His hand shoots up to her arm moving her hand up to his chest. "You can't be in here though."
Their eyes connect and her heart drops at the pained look he gives her. "You could never hurt me," she assures him, leaning a knee on the chair. "If that's what you're worried about." Her pulse pounds in her ear waiting for him to respond. She's never agonized before if Stefan wanted her and the anxiety has her second guessing her allure.
His hand glides up her leg and his mouth relaxes into a half-smile when he makes it to her hips. He cups his hands over her ass and pulls her to sit on top of him. "You're not wearing anything underneath that?"
She smiles back at him coyly and pulls at the knot holding her dress together until it falls open and the fabric slips down her back. He groans and it's such a sneaky way to weasel her way into his heart. They rush in flurry of hands knocking into each other to undress him enough to at least match her.
He's different enough that she notices. He's impatient and eager to be inside her. His cock throbs at the promise of her body, but they haven't done nearly enough for her. He works his way into her inch by inch, pulling out and adjusting again until he's fully inside of her. She endures the discomfort if it means he'll come back to her.
Last year, they'd always be quiet in her bed. In his, they could be less so but Stefan always paid more attention to her. With nothing holding him back, he was urgent and louder than he'd ever been. She rolls her hips trying to keep up with his pace and holds his chest tight to her stomach.
The sweetness between them is gone leaving only the ripper thrusting roughly underneath her. She catches Klaus watching them from Stefan's open door, which she swore she close. His eyes are dark and he gives her a sneering smile that's all for her. Shamefully, the desire pools between her legs that has nothing to do with Stefan and everything to do with the way Klaus is bewitched with her in this moment. Her hands are in Stefan's hair, but it's Klaus's messy curls she feels. When her fingers fall down to his chin, she's confused by the lack of stubble and imagines what Klaus's face might feel like under her hands, between her legs.
She should stop him, but the way he watches her reminds her of the night he killed her and the complicated feelings he left behind. She should yell at him when his fingers deftly undo the button on his jeans, but it excites her into twisting her hips forcing a change in Stefan's punishing rhythm. She should be disgusted, but she can't keep her eyes off him as his hands stroke down his impressive length.
When Stefan shudders underneath her, filling her up, she closes her eyes for just a second, but Klaus and his knowing smirk have disappeared. She leans down to kiss Stefan firmly on the lips and returns to her own room. She'd intended on staying with him, curling up at his side to leave gentle kisses along his back to celebrate her triumph. But Klaus had confused her too much for that. She couldn't bear to lay with Stefan after she'd reveled in Klaus's voyeuristic adoration.
Over the next several days, she makes her trips to the kitchen quick and efficient, loading up her arms and disappearing back into her room for hours at a time. She's not sure who she's avoiding. Stefan? Klaus? Herself?
One afternoon, her door flies open with enough force to dent the wall. "It's about time you stop hiding, love." He makes pet names sound like a threat.
"I'm not."
"You are terrible liar. You're hiding from me."
"That's all I've ever done, Klaus. Nothing's changed about that." Her eyes dart behind him to the living room and he catches her.
"Stefan isn't here if that's what worries you. I figured you would want to have this conversation alone."
"We have nothing to talk about." The wood of her footboard creaks, threatening to snap, under the pressure of his grip.
"If you want to make me believe you, try looking me in the eye when you lie."
"I don't know what you want me to say."
"You let me watch. You wanted me there."
"What was I supposed to do? You control every other aspect of my life. Why not that one too?" He breaks off a piece of the footboard, letting it clamber to the ground as he moves closer to her. His anger chokes her in the back of her throat.
"You and I both know you enjoyed it. I saw it in your face." She wonders if he'd done something similar with the other doppelgängers, but doesn't dare ask. His hand on her chin forces eye contact. "It thrilled you to have me watching. I could smell it on you, love, and don't bother attributing it all to Stefan. I could sense the change in you."
"Fine," she whispers, hoping it's enough to get him to back off. "You're right."
"Oh that's not enough." His thumb swipes slowly across her full bottom lip, gently parting them. For a cruel second, she hopes that he'll lean down to kiss her.
"I liked it," she admits louder this time. "I liked having you watch us together. I liked seeing how I affected you. I liked how you looked at me."
"Not just you, love." He grins at her like a cat that has caught an injured bird.
"You were there the other night? Watching?" Stefan's nostrils flare out and his shoulders tense, lines of muscles ripple out. Before she can call out to him and before she can run after him, he's gone. Klaus is at her back with his hands on her shoulders.
"Did you see that love? All that anger? I'd say your little plan worked. Not that it matters. He's still mine. He'll always be mine." She shrugs him off, storming back in her room. It's useless to lock Klaus out. He goes where he wants, but the slamming door resonates her rage at him. For now, it's enough.
Days stretch into weeks and Klaus takes full advantage of Stefan's absence. He has completely forgone the hybrids, satisfied with whatever errand he's sent the existing ones on. Instead, he spends his time courting her and she takes it as a game meant to torture. Fresh flowers over breakfast. Setting a plate of pastries in front of her as she's steadily ignoring him in favor of a book. Sitting so their bodies form an unbroken line. She practices ignoring him.
She's annoyed when he takes time to sketch her one afternoon, lazily curled up on the couch trying to focus on a dime store novel. "Can't you do that from memory?"
"Most women enjoy being gazed upon by an artist of my caliber. They preen to have their image captivated so expertly."
"Most artists don't have centuries of practice sketching out the same face over and over again."
"I never sketched any of the others, Elena. You're the first so hold still." His eyes are unblinkingly serious when she looks up at him, the weight of his immortal consideration drills a hole in her chest. She doesn't say anything back, but she does adjust her position to a more dynamic angle.
"Don't worry. He'll come back," he tells her another day over breakfast as he hands her coffee. His fingers slide over hers and she doesn't recoil anymore.
"How can you know that?"
"Because I have the one thing he wants most in this world. You."
"He's angry. With me. What I did. He might not want to come back for me."
"Are you really so foolish as to think he didn't know I was there? He's just embarrassed to have been caught. He'll come around." It's too much right now to think about Stefan knowing Klaus was there, but she'll cut that up and analyze it later.
"Why were you there anyway? Why did you," she pauses, unable to explicitly say what he'd done. "Stay," she offers up weakly.
"I'd simply heard a noise and was curious. You were the one who beckoned me to stay," he repeats her word choice in a mocking tone. "Are you so faithless in your own beauty that you can't fathom why the sight of you like that might draw me in?"
"It's not mine," she tries laughing him off even as he's advancing closer to her, forcing her back to the wall with nothing more than his force of personality.
"I disagree. The beauty of you has so much more to do with who you are than your face. It first struck me when you walked so willingly to your own death to shield others from my wrath. You told the most powerful natural aberration to go to hell." He is so entertained with this re-imagining of her death and all she can think about is how her racing pulse and flushed skin are a betrayal to everyone she loves. It was one thing to let him watch her with Stefan, but it's an entirely different thing to stand here in front of him itching to reach out to touch his chest.
"It didn't work though." He looks up from her neck with a question. "You still killed Jenna."
"I did." He reaches out and taps his fingers along her hips, his head resting against the side of hers.
"Why? I had done everything you asked."
"I don't know. Does it matter? What's done is done," he shrugs.
"It matters to me. Jenna didn't deserve that." His hands are at her lower back, pulling her closer to him and she lets him. Her arms hand limp at her side, but that small act of defiance doesn't matter because her traitorous heart lets him hold her tight.
"Perhaps not." His hands move up her back, pressing their chests together. "Who is to say what any of us deserve?"
"Would you do it differently?" He nuzzles into her neck and his lips drag across her scar. She leans away not to get away from him, but to offer him more of her neck. She's a little golden viper as she basks in the glow of his reverence.
"Knowing that I would be here with you now? Like this?" She nods, unable to speak. "No. I would do it again and again," he whispers into her ear. It's not the answer she wants, but it's honest. "All that I've ever done has lead me to this moment. I have Stefan." He grunts softly as he lifts her up. "And I have you. The woman who cheated death to give me what I needed to build my impossible army."
She doesn't waste energy correcting him. He wouldn't hear her even if she did. Instead, her legs wrap around his waist scoffing in the face of every sacrifice made on her behalf. His hands press into her and she regrets putting jeans on this morning. He moves them off the wall and in the heat of it, Klaus loses his balance. They tumble over, but he catches her in time so the impact doesn't quite land. He lays her down and uses his knees to knock her legs further apart, grinding his hips into hers. Seeing him hadn't prepared her for the intimidating feel of him pressed between her legs.
"Klaus," she moans. "We have too many clothes on."
"I can fix that." His movements are swift and experienced, but even so her clothes are shredded enough to be ruined. She reaches out to him, pulling him close by the beads he keeps around his neck. She thoughtfully traces her finger from his collarbone to his shoulder, counting the birds.
"This isn't right." It's her last protest, weak with no real conviction.
"Don't get into that pretty head of yours, Elena. There's been nowhere for us to go but here for months now. This is inevitable. Today or tomorrow or the next. You tell me. When?"
"Now." It's all the encouragement he needs and he descends on her like a wild animal, all blunt teeth and bruising fingers. Stefan had clung to her like a drowning man, but Klaus was the one resuscitating her. He reaches down between her legs and his fingers come away slick.
"Do I inspire such wantonness from you?" She pulls him close with a hand on his shoulder, tired of his taunts she does the only thing she can think of to ignite him. She kisses him at first along the big muscle that connects his shoulder to neck. Right as he moves above her, she bites down and his legs buckle a bit, shifting more of his weight on top of her.
His sharp teeth graze against her neck and she leans over, exposing her pulse point to him. He needs no further encouragement as he plunges into her at two points. He fills her entirely below and drains from her above. She bucks against him and she is a writhing, screaming mess on the floor. Even though he has her stretched out beneath him, she's still not done fighting him. She makes him work for every inch, every thrust, every pull.
Her legs ache already and she struggles beneath his weight when he collapses on her, spent. She shifts her hips subtly to welcome him in her arms. She's wiping the sweat from his brow and shivering as he lazily licks the dripping wound on her neck.
"Is this what you imagined, when you caught us together that night? Is this what you were picturing?"
"Something close to this, sweetheart." She puzzles over his answer the rest of the day, but he doesn't allow her time for reflection with his relentless pursuit of her affection. She resolves to ask him tomorrow, but she's distracted when Stefan comes back. He's managed to lose that ravenous look he's had in his eyes since that terrible dinner.
In the weeks Stefan left Klaus and Elena alone in Nashville, he'd gone on a bender tearing his way up from Tennessee to Virginia, daring Damon to stop him. His brother never comes for him. Instead, he finds a foothold of self-control in the last place he'd expected to find it – a pack of werewolves in the hills of West Virginia.
"You clearly have your humanity back, somewhat. You have gained a measure of restraint. Why did you come back?" Klaus had expected Stefan to come back, deranged in his bloodlust and begging to be allowed back into the fold.
"For Elena."
"She belongs to me."
"I didn't say I was taking her away. I said I came back for her." Stefan brushes past Klaus to hold Elena's hands in his.
"You look…better." She's grasping at straws and doing her best to avoid Klaus's possessive gaze. If she looks at him, that heavy feeling between her legs will betray what they've done and Stefan will figure it out. If she looks at him, she's afraid she'll reach out for Klaus and it will push Stefan away.
"I have so much work to do, Elena, to make up for what I've done. I'm sorry," he says as he pulls her into a hug. Her hands weave their way up his back and she locks eyes with Klaus. He's closed himself off to her and after their shared intimacy culminated in the pinnacle of yesterday, she feels lonely with how distant he looks at her.
That night, she sneaks into Klaus's room. She stumbles when he grabs her legs, fighting him as he tries to pull her on top of his lap. "No," she whispers. "What happened yesterday? It can never happen again."
"It will. Again and again and again," he kisses his words into her stomach. She shakes her head aggressively, stopping him with a hand on either side of his face. Her body stiffens determined to fight him as he threatens to drag her down to meet his lips. If he manages to kiss her, then it's over. "Is this all for Stefan? Or because you are concerned about what lesser people may think of you?"
She can't give him an answer so she peels his hands off of her and walks away, leaving him wanting. Naively, she hopes that she can continue to live her life as though she hadn't slept with Klaus, but he makes it impossible to forget.
At night, she molds her body to Stefan's while they watch a movie. Klaus mirrors her, draping his arm across her shoulders. His fingers dance along on Stefan's shoulder, but Elena is too preoccupied with Klaus to notice. When he passes by her in the kitchen, his hands glide across the exposed skin at her back between her shirt and shorts. As always, he's fixated on her neck and the now doubled bite mark he's left on her. Stefan hasn't remarked on it yet, making her all the more anxious for it to heal. Klaus's even bite is evidence of her straying heart and once it's gone, she can be completely Stefan's again. At least, that's what she tells herself.
They walk this tightrope in silence, each person taking a turn to maneuver around the other. She loves to dance, but she doesn't know how to handle more than one partner and she does it poorly. He man yanks her in a different direction, her head is dizzy with how often they spin and twirl her.
Klaus is more ostentatious with his flirtations and demands for her to notice him, but Stefan's vigilant and passive approach is just as strong. He leaves her gifts of journals and flowers at her door. Stationary with which to write home eventually. Stefan knows her heart deeply and he tugs her there in the quiet moments.
The rain plays a melody drawing Elena out of her room to stand at the open windows in the living room. She's wrapped in the thin shawl that had been a recent gift from Stefan. When she hears footsteps behind her, she resists the urge to turn around. Part of the excitement is not knowing which man it is walking towards her. The smell of pine and moss fills her nose when he drags his lower lip along the half-healed wound at her neck.
"Klaus." He smiles into her skin when she correctly names him and she should hate that she's made him happy, but she can't help feeling pleased with herself. "I can't keep doing this with you. It's too confusing with you both in the house like this." Her hands contradict her words as she holds onto him tightly.
"You're the only one forcing a choice out of this situation. I haven't asked you to choose nor do I particular want you to. It could be both of us. All of us, together."
"But Stefan. He'd never…"
"Ask him yourself, love. Neither of us have asked you to choose." Her pulse picks up as she turns around to see Stefan standing across the room. Klaus has his arms around her, pulling at the edges of the shawl to expose more of her.
He's staring at the ground at first, but then glances up to her. Not just her. He's looking at them. "I don't know that I understand, Stefan." He walks towards her, but stops just out of arm's reach. Klaus is so warm at her back that she clutches the shawl closer at her chest, shivering with the cold of no one there. She ignores Klaus growling low in his throat at his faithful efforts to strip her of the shawl being delayed.
"I think you understand, Elena."
"I need you to say it. I won't believe it unless you say it."
"I'm not asking you to make a choice. This isn't like with Damon and Katherine. I don't need you to choose between me and Klaus. I'd rather you didn't." She starts to protest, but Stefan quiets her weak demonstration with a kiss, matching Klaus's longing heat at her back with his own.
The barrier of everyone's expectations for her breaks and she kisses Stefan back, fiercely searching out her new reality in the feel of his teeth under her tongue. With her free hand, she seeks Klaus out too, not that he's strayed far.
"This is what I had imagined that night, Elena," he tells her as his hands slide up her stomach to grab a handful of her breasts. She shudders at the idea. How long had he been orchestrating this moment? If this is the result of his manipulations, than she is a willful prisoner. A dark star caught between her two golden men.
They tumble into Klaus's bed in a whirlwind of ripped clothes and a newfound sense of exploration. He lingers over the jagged edge of her scar and the desire for his bite builds, but they can't risk that tonight. Stefan would never hurt her, but it isn't fair to tempt him with what he can't taste. Maybe one day. Until then, Klaus satisfies himself with deep kisses on her neck that blossom into bruises stretching from her scar and across her collarbone. Her legs quiver under Stefan's knowing mouth.
With his humanity restored, it no longer feels like he is using her as a life jacket. He's able to pour himself into her and his familiarity matches well with Klaus's fresh perspective of her body.
Just when she thinks she has a handle on the three of them being together, Klaus leans over her to grab the back of Stefan's head, bringing him in for a mounting kiss. He relishes being the center of their world and Elena is more than happy to let him prosper as the sun they spin around.
Hours later, she's propped up on a mountain of pillows with both men asleep on either side of her. Katherine's advice rings in her ears, but she was wrong about which both she could love. She slides Stefan's leg off hers and gently moves Klaus's hand off her stomach. When she returns to Klaus's room with her glass of water, she exhales contentment. Klaus has his arm around Stefan with his face resting on his shoulder. She climbs into her new life at his back, tracing the edge of his triangle tattoo as she drifts off to sleep.
Months ago, her life changed in a hidden pantry in Chicago. She'd been so confident that she could save Stefan's soul. The righteous war she waged against Klaus for Stefan's humanity kept her so busy, she hadn't been paying enough attention to Klaus. He'd dragged Stefan and her both into the sweetest hell she'd ever experienced before she'd even realized her feet had left the ground.
With their struggle resolved, Klaus continued his work on his army of hybrids. The only thing that changed was how tender he'd become with her after she'd made her donation to his cause. They move so frequently that Damon has no hope of keeping up or fighting through the trail of sired hybrids Klaus leaves in their wake. After a while, Elena starts writing to Jeremy though always being cautious to keep the details of her life vague. She tries to miss her old life, but it's too hard to fake when she has Klaus and Stefan's love burning bright.
When she's at an age between Stefan and Klaus, she turns. Klaus insists on being the one to do it and Stefan knows this is not an argument worth having. He's the one most likely to keep the peace amongst the three of them. Elena and Klaus are too similar with their machinations and struggle to be the crux of the triangle. When she drinks from Klaus, they drain her dry. With her last donation, he's finally satisfied with the size of his army and announces their final move to New Orleans.
He plans on taking back his city and the three of them walk down Jackson Square hand in hand. Stefan's safe politics get them so far and Klaus's show of force takes them the rest of the way, pushing the war with Marcel over the edge in their favor. He wins back his home with vengeance, riding high on their love.
He keeps a handle on any insurrection with Elena's pretense of innocence. It amazes him what people are willing to reveal around her, underestimating her doe eyes and friendly smile. Quickly, Marcel's legion of vampires learn that it's easier to fall in line than to cross Klaus because Elena's cruel determination knows no limits when it comes to protecting her boys. She'll sacrifice anyone for Klaus and Stefan. She'll forsake the world, adding fuel to the flames, if it means protecting the three of them.
A/N: I think I needed a little break from the long fic Queen of the Highway and I've been thinking about this particular scene which morphed into this. I hope you enjoy!