I thank you for your reviews. Also to clarify, this is also taking place AFTER Stefan finds out that Damon and Elena kissed, but prior to Bringing Out the Dead.
I don't even bother wondering if this day can get any more bizarre because I know better than to wonder about pointless things.
Despite myself, I know I can't fault Damon for his impulsiveness; it's one of the things that draws me to him. I admire his complete lack of caring when it comes to what others think because I spend way too much time caring and wondering, sometimes frozen by the what ifs. But not Damon, he acts in the moment, to hell with everyone else. And sure, this often gets him in trouble – in trouble with me and everyone else – but it's not like he's never backed away from the consequences, he simply faces them head on.
I stop pacing around the room and sit down on the weight bench, bending down to put my head in my hands. 'Never a dull moment,' I think to myself. Just when I thought we'd have a 24-hour break in the action, leave it to Damon to spice things up.
I sit there for what seems like ages and again no time at all. I'm suddenly stuck, stuck in this moment in time, not wanting to leave Alaric's old apartment and risk running into anyone, or anything. Stuck in my thoughts, vacillating between being pissed at Damon about what he had done and for forgetting to tell me about it and then awed that he made such a bold move. And most definitely stuck in my feelings for the Salvatore brothers, not having a clue how to resolve that particular puzzle without hurting someone or everyone. Surprisingly, the one persons' feelings I'm not concerned with hurting is my own…
"Shit."
The word seems to hang in the air, sharp and unyielding.
Outside, a car horn sounds, bringing me out of my thoughts, reminding me that Elijah will be coming back at some point. I know that I don't want to be there when he reappears – despite how polite and thoughtful we have been to each other in the past, I know better than to trust an Original. Time to get going.
The house is still silent when I unlock the front door and go inside, for a moment I remember the noise that used to greet me when I came into this place I've called home my whole life. That past life seems so far away now. That we even bother locking our front door makes me laugh – the worst things in life can already get in, a pesky deadbolt would mean nothing to them. There's a note on the counter from Ric; he's at The Grille, no doubt drinking. I take a minute to send him a text: Call Damon. He might need your help chatting with Elijah, who he un-daggered. Last night. Ugh.
About five seconds pass before my phone chimes with his response: Shit. I was just thinking about vacation options… what a buzz kill.
Yeah, that's Damon for you, doesn't want anyone to have fun w/o him. Srsly, check on him. Or try to keep him in check.
Better said than done, Elena, I'll try. Be safe.
I feel slightly better knowing a "responsible" adult has been clued in to the new development. I run up the stairs, taking them two at a time, glad my recently-adopted workout routine is paying off. Now is as good a time as any to take a shower, plus I feel like I need to wash Elijah's presence off of me. His closeness and words about us "all looking the same" were still giving me the creeps. His word choice implied more than myself and Katherine, but who in the world else was he talking about? Why not throw another doppelganger into the mix, nothing would surprise me.
After a hot, but all too brief shower, I dig through my closet, trying to find something to wear. My wardrobe is running short on near-death-experience-friendly options. I end up with a lightweight, grey pullover hoodie and grab a pair of jeans from the closet floor, checking them first for blood stains. I shake my head at myself, "This is what my life has come to."
"I don't know, Elena, it's not looking too bad from where I stand," Stefan's voice startles me. I'm used to finding Damon in my room - have almost come to expect it - but Stefan's being here is slightly un-nerving. He used to be a regular fixture in my room, on my bed and now, he's as out of place as anything I could imagine. I turn quickly, clutching the towel to me. Stefan raises an eyebrow and purses his lips, "Really, it's nothing I haven't seen before."
"Yeah, well, things are different now," my words are hollow, they really need not even be said. "What do you want, Stefan?"
"Just wanted to tell you that I passed along your message to Damon."
"You could have just called, or texted even, texting would be great!"
"But then I would have missed all this," Stefan's tone is sarcastic, but his eyes lock with mine as he gestures toward me with both hands, palms open, like he wants to touch me but won't let himself. When he continues, his voice has softened, quieter in both volume and intent, "I've already missed enough."
"Stefan, don't…"
"No, you don't…" Stefan steps forward, reaching out one hand to loosely grasp the hand not holding up my towel. "Did you say that to my brother when he kissed you? Did you tell him to stop? Did you even think of me?"
"Did I think of you, Stefan? There hasn't been a moment in the last six months that I haven't thought of you. Hell, since I met you, you've been in my thoughts, in my heart, in my… my everything."
Tears are blurring my vision as I continue, "Can you say the same thing? Were you thinking of me while you were calling me a human blood bag? Or when you said my brother dying wasn't your problem? Or when you were threatening to drive me off Wickory Bridge?" I pause to swallow back my tears. "I don't fault you for saving your brother – either time – or even for your most recent ripper killing spree because you couldn't help either one. I can forgive all that. But when you chose not to fight for me, for us; when you gave up because it was easier on you, that was it. Damon is many things, but he's never been a quitter. His intentions and priorities have always been clear when it comes to me, even when it hurts him. And you can't hate him for this, for feeling how he does about me, because I promise you, he doesn't hate you for the very same thing."
"Sounds like you are the one giving up this time around, Elena," Stefan is still holding my hand, tracing circles on the back of it with his thumb. Two weeks ago I would have given anything to be in this place with him, to have him being open with his feelings. "Or are you just rewarding the brother who stuck around longest?"
"God, Stefan, it's not a competition. I am not a competition, I'm not some prize to be won, or stolen." I find myself gripping his hand now, trying to find the words. "I still love you, part of me might always love you but I can't be with you right now…"
"My brother made sure of that," his eyes flash with anger, for a moment I see a few dark veins pop out on his face but they are gone as quickly as they appeared. I bring my hand up to the side of his face and he closes his eyes when I rest it there.
"Damon could not change my feelings for you; you couldn't even change my feelings for you, though you tried your damnedest to make me hate you. But things are different now and they may never be right again and I have to let you go, I owe it to both of us. We'll only make each other hurt more; you have to see that, Stefan."
"Do you love him?" Stefan's question is barely whispered, had I not been so focused on him, I might not have heard it.
"Yes," I pull my hand away from his face, "You deserve to know that but also know this: it still doesn't mean I'm picking him over you, that I'm even picking him. Because love doesn't conquer all. It's just love. It's just a feeling."
"You used to believe differently…" He doesn't have to continue down that path, we both know he's the reason my view of love has changed; and that the last year has changed me in ways I may never get over.
We stand there in silence, still so close, our breath mingling together. I watch a tear slip down his cheek and I can't hold back my own, this is our end, for now or maybe forever.
"I love you, Elena."
"I love you, too, Stefan."
We owe each other this much, this goodbye. His arms come around me, pulling me to his chest. I tilt my face up, looking in his eyes, finally seeing the Stefan I fell in love with looking back at me. A sob catches in my throat and I lean closer yet, pressing my lips softly to his. I can feel his tears, they are cool against my skin. Our kiss deepens and if there was any doubt in me that moving on from him was wrong, it would be winning out but there is nothing but intense sadness and mourning in my heart. And I know that love is not enough.
"Well, isn't this sweet?" Damon's voice whispers from my bedroom doorway. I push Stefan away from me and look over to the cold, blue steel eyes glaring at me.
This is about Damon and Elena but she needed to end things with Stefan first. I promise the best is yet to come.