DISCLAIMER: Don't own it or profit from it. At all. Obviously.
A/N: Why can't I walk away from this fandom? *cries* I mean, seriously, I don't even like Elena right now. I don't like the show very much. And I absolutely hate that Ric is gone and it looks like Meredith is sticking around. I just...ugh . Just ugh. I'm seriously doubting I'll even watch Season 4. But still.
I can't resist them.
And I can't resist you! You, fabulous, fabulous people. How can I stay away from you guys? And there are some mind-blowing fics out there, so I'm telling you right now, this one is NOT WORTHY. Like so not worthy. But I can't seem to delete it, so I'm going to send it out. Probably a five parter? Maybe four?
Post 3x22. Lots of language, probably some smut, and certainly some violence. Plus...I warn you guys, this is not the friendliest Damon. He's bitter. Or I'm bitter. Either way, it's dark and you might hate it.
BUT! New commitment from me. I actually waited to post this until now because I want to reply to reviews! I have massive guilt about not doing it (despite being busy) and despite making it really cumbersome, I'm going to do it today! So, please, please drop a line. So many of you have been so kind and I'd really like the chance to say thank you.
-DARK STARS SHINE BRIGHT-
She doesn't talk to me. Like ever. Oh, she talks plenty to everyone else. Especially at the beginning. That first day, I'm pretty sure the kid who bags her groceries got to weigh in on whether or not she should embrace her fangs and continue her thus-far miserable life.
Stefan, of course, said the Hallmark thing right from the start. "Whatever you want. This is your choice and nobody" he paused with significance at nobody. As if I anyone in Mystic Falls didn't get that nobody was code for My evil brother, Damon. "Nobody will take that from you, Elena."
She crumpled into his arms and he made all the hush-little-baby noises that he's probably state certified in. And I stood there, relegated to the darkest, smelliest corner of the morgue-which is really saying something-wondering if maybe they didn't even hear me come in.
But they did. I know this because the second Elena lifted her head, her eyes found mine over his shoulder.
I've seen more beautiful women. Hell, I've fucked more beautiful women. But there's something about this girl. It's in the curve of her cheeks and the smell of her hair. God help me, because I'd give my left nut to be done with this soap opera bullshit, but this girl is my True North. And I can't get my fucking compass unstuck.
But that doesn't mean I have to prop my ass up for her personal whipping pleasure either, so when she stared into me, those dark eyes begging me for answers, I turned away.
She did a hell of a lot of looking at me in those first hours days. She watched me on the ride home from the hospital and again, after a million phone calls, when she swallowed her sterile little shot-glass of 'I've-made-up-my-mind-and-I'm-not-leaving-Jeremy' human blood.
Then she curled up on our couch and slept. Stefan and I had a bottle of scotch each without saying a damn thing.
He broke the silence first, all dramatic sighs and forlorn gaze. "Her world wasn't supposed to be this. She's better than this. She deserved better."
No shit, Captain Obvious. But I didn't say that. I took another drink and licked my lips. "I'll head out tomorrow."
Stefan looked at me, as if he had no clue what I could be talking about.
"She made her choice and I made a deal," I explained.
"Not yet," he said, and I wanted to laugh, but he spoke too soon and his words stole the smile from my lips. "I don't know if I can teach her right."
"Fine," I said. "But it's your job until she asks me. "
And that was that. She hasn't asked and I haven't left and Stefan hasn't broken down and eaten a bus full of nuns or anything.
I spend my days drunk and Elena and Stefan spend their days in the forest, living out some ridiculous version of Vampire Survivor or whatever.
It's beyond stupid. He has her in the woods fourteen hours a day. What the fuck does one even do in the woods for that long? I haven't got a clue-they're probably hunting Bambi or the Easter Bunny or whatever. But seriously? Two fucking weeks of nothing but climbing trees and drinking coon blood? They've got to be one Nascar Sunday away from getting married in a barn, wearing cowboy boots.
Jesus, when the hell am I going to move the fuck on?
Elena sighs in her bedroom below me, and I answer my own question. Never. I'm never going to fucking leave because Elena is it for me. Moth meet s flame... and promptly catches its ass on fire because, see, that flame likes torching things with wings.
A shooting star sails overhead. I watch it trace a silver steak through the sky until it disappears. And God knows I'm not some white knight who deserves a pocketful of wishes, but still. Maybe it's a sign. Maybe it's Rose or my mom, or hell, my long-lost sense of self-worth telling me to stop being this pathetic little pussy and get off this girl's rooftop. Learn to fucking laugh again.
I used to be...well, I used to be a dick. But I was better than this.
Bah. I'll figure it out tomorrow.
I move to a crouch on her roof. Crickets are chirping and Jeremy is snoring and I haven't heard her sheets rustle for a good ten minutes, so she's probably out cold. I spring from her roof to the grass below, as silent as the grave.
The heat of the day is still lingering in the air, leaving the wind warm against my skin. I hear an owl hoot and decide to take a page from Baby Brother's book, cutting a path through the forest. I'm too damn lazy to take the long way, and this cuts six minutes off the trip.
Leaves crunch beneath my boots as I make my way through into the heart of the woods. I take a breath that smells of trees and dirt and things I know I'm going to regret stepping in tomorrow. And then something-someone-slams into my back so hard it throws me chest-first onto the ground.
I'm on my feet in a blink, but my attacker is already up and running. And I don't need to see her tight little ass or long, dark hair to know her name.
"You want to tell me what the hell that's for, Elena?" I ask, brushing leaves off my stomach. She circles around to my right, moving from one tree to the next.
I watch her dart, her steps almost soundless against the leaves.
Good feet. She'd make a hell of a hunter if she wasn't dead set on spending her eternity sucking furry things dry.
I turn to follow her and then she flies at me again. This time, I catch her wrists, but she leaps. Plants both of her bare feet into my stomach and pushes off.
I could take her. She's fast, but I've got a hundred and fifty years and twice as many tricks up my sleeve. But I stumble back and watch her run, a blur of long bare limbs and ebony hair. She's wearing a big gray t-shirt and a pair of white cotton undies, and as far as I can tell, not a damn thing else.
It's...well, frankly, it's fucking hot as hell, but God knows that train's not ever leaving the station.
It's also kind of impressive, because shit, she's just a couple of weeks old and animal blood, no less, but she's got a tread softer than a baby deer.
More than anything, it's fucking confusing. She hasn't so much as burped in my direction in fourteen days and now she's coming at me like a wild cat.
She launches at me from the side, and almost trips on a root. I catch her arm and lift her to her feet.
"C'mon, Sheena," I say, smirking. "You should know your jungle better than this by now."
The look she gives me is feral, narrowed eyes and bared teeth. I can almost smell her hunger, it is that fierce. Hell, what is Ranger Stefan feeding her? Is he feeding her?
She wrenches her arm free and comes at me again. And this time, some sort of instinct kicks in, because I dodge her and duck left. And hell if she doesn't barrel around, kicking off an old oak tree so that she's rushing for me again.
A better man would try to appeal to whatever the fuck is obviously wrong with her, but shit, I'm not the better man. At my best, I barely qualify as a decent man, so if this little hell-cat wants to chase me-I'm going to chase her back.
We haul ass through those woods until I've got leaves in my hair and mud spattered up both legs of my jeans. I'm going to need two showers and my boots are probably beyond saving, and honestly, I couldn't care less.
There's something about this. Maybe it's being just out of Elena's grasp. Or maybe it has to do with the way she grunts when she runs hard, or the flash of fangs I can see when she gets close. Whatever it is, it's working wicked voodoo on me. And it's working her into a frenzy.
And yeah, fuck it, maybe I want to call her bluff. So, the next time she spots me through the trees, I stand still. She sinks down into her haunches like a big cat, her eyes flashing in the moonlight.
And that's when it hits me. I know why she's here. I know why she's running me down all over this forest in the middle of the night.
Elena wants to hunt.
Humans are too much and woodland critters aren't enough. Split the difference and you end up with...well, apparently you end up with me.
I haven't got a damn clue what that means, but before I can figure it out, Elena slams into me. A hundred and twelve pounds isn't nearly enough to topple me, vampire or not. But she looks and smells like an invitation, so I go down like a brick.
My back hits first, mashing sticks and leaves and soft patches of moss that turn the air sweet around us. Elena comes down on my chest, all soft curves and ferocious eyes.
I gaze up at her vampire face, smirking. "Wanna tell me-
My words are cut off when she knots her fingers in my hair, yanking my head to the left. I take a sharp breath and hold onto her hips.
I don't move And I should earn a medal of valor for that shit, because I can hear her lick her fangs near my neck.
I feel her grow tense on top of me and I know that rational Elena-the non veiny-eyed one who worries and furrows and doesn't chase friends-is close to reappearing. But I'm not ready for this wild child to go. Not yet.
"Go on," I say softly, as I arch my neck towards her. I keep it small. Light. Hoping that she won't notice. And that I won't lose my mind.
She holds her breath. For one insanely mind-fucking moment, I think she's going to do it. I feel her fangs scrape my flesh and I groan like she's stroking my cock. Which...well, yeah. It's a little like that.
But in the end, Elena is exactly who she's always been. Scared to fucking death of everything she doesn't understand.
She tosses herself off of me, landing in a crouch a few feet away. I raise myself up on my elbows and pant as I watch her watching me. Her hair and eyes are wild.
She's breathtaking. Like, it is a good damn thing I don't need to breathe, because I literally cannot force air into my lungs right now. What I wouldn't fucking pay to see her sink her teeth into some fear-pumped little high-schooler. Hell, they were all putty in her hands before. And now? Yeah, it'd be vampire porn. Really fucking good vampire porn.
Before my thoughts can linger, Elena sucks in a breath, like she's shaking something off. She stands up primly and marches forward, flipping her stick-straight hair around her shoulders, like she's ready for a job interview and not tromping barefoot though the forest wearing her boyfriend's t-shirt.
She's got her bitchy turned up so high I can practically hear it.
"Don't say anything about this," she growls.
I cock my head left, laughing. "You must have mistaken me for the guy you're fucking. I don't take orders, Elena."
She flinches, but I can see it doesn't faze her. Of course it doesn't. Despite what Stefan, Vampire Brother Theresa would like to say, turning doesn't just bring out how much you care about people. It pumps out every selfish, ugly thing in you at full volume. Surround sound with extra bass.
And sweet as she is, Elena has a selfish streak a mile wide.
"I didn't mean anything, okay? No one needs to freak out," she says. Just a little bit softer. It's not quite a command, but it's not a request either.
She gives me the head tilt and the Disney Princess eyes, but it's a wasted effort. Because I've had it up to my mother-fucking eyebrows with her proprietary bullshit.
She must see it in my eyes. The you-are-fucking-with-the-wrong-guy smirk. She tries to bolt, but I'm done playing now. And I've got a lot of years on this little baby, who's still practically drooling around her fangs.
I fly at her before she can even get up to full speed, hauling her back by the collar of my brother's t-shirt. I pin her back against a tree and hold her there with my body, shoulders to pelvis. Because-fuck it. It's not like we weren't right here in that flea-bitten Motel No-Tell, thirty days ago. She flails and snaps, but past all the struggle and the hissing there's still that thin current of sex that rides beneath every damn thing we do.
I put my fingers in her hair, my thumb trailing down her cheek. She stills at my touch, her eyes so human that for a second, I almost fall for it. Almost.
"You should be careful tossing around your marching orders, Elena," I say. "I'll say what I want. I'll do what I want."
"You stayed when Stefan told you to," she says.
I'm a little surprised she heard that, that she was awake and didn't let on. I'm a little more surprised by her tone. I can't tell if she's disgusted with Stefan or me or maybe just the world in general.
But I thread my hand deeper into her hair and look at her lips. "I'll leave when I like, Elena. We both know I don't have a reason to stay."
She struggles again, and I press a thigh between her legs, daring her to make me drive my point home. She doesn't. "See, Elena, this little game of ours-it's over. As much as you want to play with fire, at the end of the day, you're going to curl up with your guilty conscious and your precious, neutered vampire."
She sputters, mouth twisting like she'd do anything to hold in the words she's about to say. But impulse control is a bitch when you're a vampire. "Why does it matter now?" she asks, eyes closing, because she hates herself for this. For the horrible truth of this. "It's always been this way. Why do you suddenly care?"
I laugh at her and step back, watching her drop to her feet. "That's just it, Elena. It's not that I suddenly care. It's more like suddenly...I don't."
-TBC-