The Nutcracker

Two : Let It Snow

She wakes up in her bed, feeling oddly… naked.

Nope, clothes are on, though minimal. But this feeling, it's not physical – Elena Gilbert thinks someone may have seen her soul and stripped it bare, taking away not only the sorrow and depression but everything good, too, leaving her with an unbearable emptiness.

Throwing back the covers, she swings her feet across the bed so that they touch the ground, and pads, barefoot, to her bathroom. She's being silly – nothing happened; she probably had a nightmare and so woke up particularly down.

But she can't shake this feeling – this feeling of loss that grows with every passing moment, as if she is supposed to orbit around something or someone and that someone – or possibly, something; she won't jump to conclusions just yet – is putting more and more distance between them.

Shaking her head at herself for her own silly thoughts, she notices – feels – a small smile playing on her lips. And it's a genuine smile, and the first time she's smiled to herself in years, and that magnifies the longing ten-fold.

She doesn't understand, not anymore, so she settles in front of the mirror positioned above the sink to study her reflection, hoping that she might gain some insight into this odd morning.

Bedhead, certainly. Her face looks soft and worn; creased. Her eyes are framed by dark bags, which shouldn't be, because she's had at least ten hours of sleep, but maybe she's still suffering the after-effects of her latest bout of insomnia.

She moves on and notices that her lips look particularly swollen, the way they used to after she made out with someone, back in high school. It's the only reasonable explanation but she instantly rejects it – no way.

But then her eyes trail down… and there, on her neck, is a hickey.

Her head is hurting and her heart is beating like a hummingbird's and she can hear the blood pounding in her ears.

Stefan.

Stefan gave her that hickey.

Stefan is the reason why she's only half dressed on a winter morning.

Stefan is-

No.

No no no no no.

Her feet hit the hardwood floor as she races to her room; there is no sign of a second occupant, and any traces he might have left behind are long gone, replaced by her own traces.

But Stefan was here; she can feel it. Stefan was with her. Maybe she could have made up the instant connection. Maybe she could have made up the invitation for him to stay the night after realizing that they'd been snowed in. And maybe she could have made up those memories of him holding her so very gently.

But there is no way she could have given herself that mark; she knows it like she knows her own name, and somedays, that is the only thing she is sure of in her life. So Stefan was most definitely here.

Admitting this to herself seems to be the key; memories flood her mind. Talking for hours about absolutely nothing simply because it feels good; sipping drinks for some reason – because the ggnog had been too good to pass up on?; leading him to his room, the one next to hers, and trying to say good night, only for it to be too hard; Stefan leaning in, closer and closer, until she can't take it anymore and throws her arms around his neck…

Oh, God.

She remembers it all now. That innocent kiss that had led to hundreds more. Stumbling into the hallway and then her room, both of them laughing because for once, they were in the here and now and it felt good. Letting him guide her in her own room until she fell back against the bed. And then – oh.

Remembering all of this means that she remembers the ending, too; the way he held her close and made her believe that it would all be okay, only to shatter everything when he had told her that he would have to leave, and why.

With a sinking feeling in her gut, Elena pulls herself out of her memories and slowly, cautiously makes her way to the tiny nightstand next to her bed.

A small token – the significance of which only they understand – and a letter in what must be his own hand confirm her worst nightmare.

Stefan is gone.

"It's getting late," He tells her, and she realizes, with a start, that it's way past midnight.

"I'm so sorry, Stefan. I've just been talking this whole time, and you were telling me stories, and I didn't know that it's-" She angles her head to get a closer look at the clock that hangs on the wall, "wow – 3 in the morning." She sets down her wine glass – because that's what she'd taken out after they'd finished the little bit of eggnog left – and pulls herself up, resisting the urge to stretch.

Stefan stands up, too, and she remembers that he has no idea about where he is right now and how to get around the house. There's a spare bedroom next to hers which she should probably lead him to now; she hopes that he doesn't mind because it's the only room she can offer – the others are Jeremy's, her aunt Jenna's and… her parents' room, which no one stays in, ever.

She leads him up the stairs and they keep talking, because both of them don't want to let go of this feeling – this normalcy – just yet. They reach his door and she points it out, standing a safe distance away from it, lest she be tempted to walk in and shut the door behind her. It's not like she's been thinking about doing that with Stefan all evening; it's just that the drinks have loosened her up a bit and that's bad because now she can really feel her growing attraction.

"So… this is your room," She smiles. "Mine's right there, in case you need anything." And she does mean anything.

Damn it, Elena, control yourself! She shouts internally while observing Stefan. If he's noticed the number of rooms and is curious, he's doing a great job of hiding it, and she's grateful. She doesn't feel like discussing her family just yet, even though she can see herself talking to him about it, in time. An unbidden thought makes its way to her mind and she chases it off.

She can also see herself learning to love Stefan, in time.

But she's being stupid; of course she is. There has been nothing all evening long; this thing she feels in the air is probably just nervousness and some awkwardness – they are basically strangers, after all, and here they are, having spent the entire evening caught up in each other. That's all – there's nothing else; no spark, no tension, no want – it's all just in her head.

"Thank you, Elena," Stefan smiles warmly, and she realizes that he's already stepped in and somehow she finds herself leaning against the doorway, observing him… like a total stalker girl.

"So… I guess that's it." She says reluctantly – she doesn't want to say good night just yet, but she has to. Stefan's face grows serious as he crosses the room in three quick strides, coming to stand in front of her.

"Thank you," He says again, and she knows now that he's thanking her for more than just a roof over his head for the night.

"Thank you, Stefan," She says strongly. "I don't know what's going on, and what this means, but tonight, everything changed. You made me see that it can change."

"You made me see that sometimes, things get better." He tells her, and then's he moving in closer, their eyes locked together in a wordless form of communication. She doesn't want to walk away; he won't let her. He doesn't know what to do now; she's impatient.

And so her arms rise of their own accord and pull him closer, wrapping around his neck just before their lips collide. And then he's kissing her, and it's almost easier than breathing. He instinctively moves in closer, pushing her up against the wall, and she lets out a low moan because she can feel him pressed up against her, and the warmth of it all is reassuring. She hasn't had this much human contact for so long.

Eventually they break apart for air, but apparently not before she hitches one leg around him, letting him support her spineless form. He pulls back to look at her, matching smiles on their faces.

"That was…"

"Something else," She helpfully supplies, and he nods in agreement because there are no words for this. Slowly, she feels her strength and balance coming back to her, and so she lowers her leg and stands up, lightly pushing against him because he has her pinned up against the wall and she's stuck. He obliges, a curious look on his face, as if he doesn't know whether to be ecstatic or panicked at the thought of her leaving.

She turns to leave and then holds out a hand for him, and he can breathe again. He takes Elena's small hand, feels it reassuringly grasp his and smiles as she leads him to her own room. Somewhere along the lines, he can't resist because he's been resisting all night, and pulls her closer, thinking it will be just one innocent kiss.

Elena doesn't let him go; kisses him agressively and softly at the same time, backing him into a wall. They pull away and she starts laughing, because she feels so light, and then he starts laughing too, not just because her laughter is infectious but also because he knows exactly what she's thinking, feeling.

Their laughter dies out when she pushes open the door to her room, and he holds her by her waist, searching her eyes. "Elena, we don't have to do this. I just need to know that you'll let me in, someday." And really, he's being honest. He just needs to know that someday, hopefully soon, she will let him into her life and ask him to be a part of it. Tonight seems like a promising start and that is enough.

Elena returns his observative glance; bites on her lower lip. And then she pulls him in, her eyes bright in the dark. "I want this," She stresses, and he believes her because so does he.

"So do I."

And so, for once after so long, they both do want they want to do, not what grief and sorrow and anger and hatred dictates they should.

And live again.

It's late, much, much later than it was earlier - before -, but she can't bring herself to surrender her consciousness over to sleep because she still thinks this might all be a dream, and if she were to wake up now without Stefan, she doesn't think she would ever be the same again.

He holds her close because they both need reassurance, not because they don't trust the other but because life has taught them that nothing is as it seems, and in the blink of an eye, everything can take a turn for the worse.

When she feels sleep clutching at the loose strands of her mind, beckoning her, she moves in closer and starts a conversation in hushed whispers, because she doesn't want to burst this little bubble they're in.

"You're leaving soon," She sighs, and even though it won't be for another few hours, she can already feel a small tear inside her, one that will surely morph into a painful hole once he's gone. His hand, the one resting on her back, moves up and draws soothing patterns on her arm, not saying anything because there isn't anything to say.

It takes him a while to speak up, but eventually he does because she deserves to know – she's already broken the silence once, earlier, to confide in him about her parents.

"When I was four, my parents died." He talks softly but surely, and quickly, not because he doesn't want her to hear this but because it's the only way he can bear to. "My mother had always been weak and having me had been the last straw." His eyes shut tightly, because even after all this time, he still hates himself – a self-loathing bred by his own brother, who had reminded him every day that he had been responsible for their loss.

"It took her four years to slowly fade away, and the day she did, my father changed - was never the same." His eyes try to close tighter, to block out the tears that prick at his eyes. "He killed himself two days after her funeral."

She reaches up and traces his eyelids before rising up to make him look at her. "Open your eyes, Stefan," She asks gently and he does, because he can't deny her anything. "Look at me," He tries, but the acceptance in her eyes is too much; no one has ever looked at him like that – without resentment. "Hey, look at me!" She commands a little more forcefully.

"This is not your fault. Nothing is your fault." And then her voice drops into a soft whisper as she frames his face with one hand. "And it's okay to cry." So he lets one tear slide out, and she rests her head against his shoulder, holding him tight, murmuring hushed reassurances.

It feels like a lifetime later, but he does speak, after it all. She has to know why he can't be with her, even though he wants it more than life itself.

"My brother, Damon – he hated me for everything, but he raised me in foster care. He took care of me and made sure that nothing ever happened; that we weren't separated. But he hated me, more than anything, and he taught me to hate myself."

"And then, when he turned eighteen, he just left. I was lost – I still had two more years left in the system until I could take off. But then some unknown relative showed up and took me in. It took me a while but eventually I figured out that Damon had tracked my aunt down to make sure that I was taken care of. Even after he couldn't bear to look at me anymore, he made sure I would be okay."

"I never heard from him again, and it's been six years. But last week, Bonnie, – she knew Damon, once upon a time – she called me. She said she'd heard from him, from London. My brother is in a foreign land, drinking himself to death, Elena. And after all that he's done for me, I can't not save him. Not this time."

And it is then that she understands because family is everything, especially to those who have lost so much. And she knows that she can't stop him – won't, because she would want him to let her go, too, if it were for Jeremy's sake.

"But I will come back," He vows, and she falls asleep to the sound of him promising her the world.

She's never seen it before, but she recognizes the miniature nutcracker the moment she sets eyes on it.

The nutcracker his mother had made for him; the only token he has left to prove that he once had a famiy; had belonged a long time ago.

And here it is, with her.

Elena gently handles the nutcracker, keeps it in her safe spot, along with the letter. And then she goes about her life while she waits for him to return, because that is what Stefan asked of her.

She knows she will wait for as long as it might take, because Stefan is a part of her now.

Outside, it snows and snows for days, and Elena thinks maybe she has something to do with it, because her heart is too cold for tears and just cold enough for freezing isolation.

My dearest Elena,

A part of me can't bear to leave – a large part. But you and I both know this is inevitable; my brother is family, and somehow I know you understand that better than anyone else. But then again, you understand everything about me better than anyone else. I will forever be indebted to Bonnie for dragging me along last night, because I met you.

And you have brought me back to life, Elena. Before this, I was merely existing – surviving on stolen breaths and self-loathing, alive only because I was indifferent - didn't care about my survival enough for it to matter. But then you came – or rather, I arrived and met you – and nothing was the same; nothing will ever be the same.

I have to go, but I know you will carry me with you – and I know you will wait, because that is what I have to believe if I am to walk out of this door today. But I'm not entirely gone, Elena – a selfish part of me is too insecure to leave you completely.

You and I both know the significance of the nutcracker – it is proof that I mattered once. Now it is proof that we matter –that I will be back, not just for the nutcracker and all that it represents, but for us. The nutcracker is proof of a past, a family and love lost, but now I leave it with you as a promise of love found. Love found because... I have found love, in you; in your eyes, I am whole. It is more than I ever dreamed of.

I love you, Elena. A part of me always has, even before you existed, because you have always been a part of me.

I love you and I will be back, if only just to hear you say it back to me; if only just to see you smile again.

-Stefan.

I am so sorry for the late update, everyone! This should have gone up yesterday but there was a slight issue… in other words, I went crazy, got insecure and tweaked everything. I hope it was worth the wait. The final chapter should be up later today!

Thank you all so very much for the wonderful support – it's great to be back in the fandom after Baby Sister. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter – maybe they moved too fast? Maybe it was hurried and unrealistic? Ah, but it is the holidays, and there was eggnog, and I am a hopeless romantic. Don't forget to check out the rest of my Christmas Specials – all six will be completed by the end of today.

E Salvatore,

December 2011.