Author's notes: Please forgive the time jump. I understand that many of you wanted to see how "the gang" dealt with Damon's decision, but I can only hang out in extended-grief-zone for so long. My apologies. I do think this chapter still addresses much of what y'all have been wanting to see, though, as a result of Damon's choice.
Warnings: MATURE – sensitive subject matter, violence, alcohol use/abuse, language, Stefan, Caroline, Bonnie
REMINDER: Elena's been compelled to believe her name is Ellie Martin. When other people talk with her, that's the name I'll be using. For ease of reading, when referencing her in the story, I'm sticking with Elena. Hope that's not too confusing.
The float slowly made its way down the packed street. Everywhere she looked, people were smiling, cheering, and laughing. They looked a lot happier than she felt. Who on earth thought wearing a hoop skirt with at least a dozen petticoats beneath it was a good idea in July.
Was it July?
It seemed like July.
Red, white, and blue streamers were festooned along almost every possible section of trim. In the distance, a gazebo was adored with patriotic-looking balloons and a banner she couldn't quite read.
"More candy! More candy!" A little girl with vividly red pig-tails called out as she chased the float.
She looked to the bucket at her feet. She'd run out of candy two blocks ago. "Sorry." She started to say more, but she was distracted as a pair of vividly blue eyes caught her attention.
A man with raven-black hair and a shirt just as dark waved from the center of the crowd. Why was he wearing something that dark when she could feel rivers of sweat beading down the back of her neck and dripping beneath the lace-trimmed neckline? He had to be practically melting. But he looked as cool as composed as he always did.
He always did.
He always did.
Elena sat up in shock, real sweat dripped beneath her collar and made her pajama top cold and sticky. She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her cheek on her kneecap, trying to calm her heart pounding in her chest.
It was a dream.
Not real.
Just like all the others.
And just like after all the others, Jaime was oblivious. He snored next to her with the intensity of a lumberjack trying to bring down a redwood. Heaven forbid she wake him to try to talk. The last time she'd tried, that hadn't gone well. How he survived napping in the crash room during his residency was beyond her. Of course, since his parents gave the endowment that paid for the wing the crash room was located in, when people heard him doing his chainsaw impression, they might just move on past and look for another med student to do the job.
She craned her neck to see the clock on his nightstand. The alarm would go off in ten more minutes. She didn't dare try to reset it. If she did, Jaime would miss his morning run. He needed his morning run. He'd made that abundantly clear one morning when she'd suggested a different type of cardio. He'd mumbled something about morning breath and rolled out of bed.
No need to bother trying to go back to sleep.
No, Elena slid out of bed and hopped into the shower and tried to grip hold of the last fragments of the dream still curling around the edges of her mind. She'd seen the courtyard before. Or maybe it was a town square. Last time it was dark. And she'd been in a car. And an explosion happened.
Her sub-conscious mind was much too creative. She should really start writing these down. They'd probably make a best-seller.
Elena turned the knob on the shower to high, shivering beneath the initial blast of cold water, but it proved to be exactly what she needed. Now, instead of focusing on the face of the man who kept appearing in her dreams, she was dancing around the shower stall waiting for their ancient water heater to decide to send hot water her way…at least that's what she was doing until the door to the bathroom opened.
"What are you doing?" Jaime ran his fingers through his still sleep-matted hair.
"Pretty sure I'm taking a shower."
"Already?" He narrowed his green eyes in a sharp glare. "You know I always take one before my run."
Before his run. And after his run. Jaime couldn't risk anyone seeing his hair in a less-than-perfect state.
"Can't you just wear a hat?"
He slammed his fist against the doorframe. "I have a routine."
She wanted to tell him to screw his routine, but that would just lead to trouble she didn't want this morning. She was already having enough of a bumpy start to the day. "Give me two minutes. I just need to finish washing my hair." She squirted shampoo and conditioner into her palm in a trick she'd learned back in the college dorm.
"I'll be timing you."
"You do that." She buried her head beneath the flow of the just-now-warming-up water. By the time Jaime got in, the temperature would be perfect. He should be thanking her right now instead of shooting her a death glare.
But Elena didn't always get what she wanted.
She gave her hair a final rinse just as he mouthed the word five. She grabbed her towel and ducked out of his way. "See. Plenty of time."
Elena had time to dry her hair, get dressed, and had just settled down at the computer when the beep from the kitchen signaling the coffee pot had started its brew cycle. It was perfectly timed for Justin's first cup of coffee after his post-run shower. She'd love a cup while she paid the bills, but she wasn't sure if that was the best idea right now.
When she opened the bank website on her computer, she shook her head yet again. The balance this month had refreshed to exactly what she'd started with last month and the month before that and the month before that and the month before that. No matter how hard she tried to persuade them, she'd never successfully gotten persuaded anyone on staff at the bank to give her the slightest hint for the mystery trust fund that perpetually kept enough money in her account to send her children and grandchildren to Ivy League schools.
The front door creaked open and she slammed the laptop closed. The state of her finances were none of Jaime's concern. When his mother announced the need for an air-tight prenup the night they announced their engagement, Elena was secretly thrilled that she didn't have to bring the idea up.
She slid back in the chair and got to her feet, slowly making her way into the kitchen, trying to decide on breakfast. Eggs were a no-go since she'd been too tired to go to the store last night, and she knew Jaime wouldn't have crossed the automatic-door threshold. She opened the pantry, looked at her options, and winced. Oatmeal. Again.
"Good morning." The scent of his aftershave drifted down to her as he stooped to kiss the back of her neck. It never failed. She was always expecting different scent, and when she smelled Jaime's cologne, she was caught off guard. "Sorry about the shower."
"It's fine." After a year of living with him, she'd gotten accustomed to his moods. "I should have waited for you to take your shower first. I wasn't thinking."
He eyed her with suspicion. "You have another dream?"
Elena felt herself flinch. Her recurring dreams started out as a joke, but now they seemed to annoy him. "It's Thursday, isn't it?" Of course, Thursday wasn't that different than Monday or Tuesday or Wednesday. Lately, they were striking with almost clockwork regularity.
"What was it this time? Standing under an umbrella in the rain? Dancing at a school dance?" Jaime's words were too-sharp for pre-coffee.
"No. I was in a parade."
"Parades are nice." He waited, his eyes searching her face, the silence asking a question he didn't voice.
"Yes, he was there. In the crowd."
Jaime hissed, slamming his coffee cup on the counter, sending a spray of the liquid onto the counter and his shirt. He threw her a look that said his actions were her fault. As he reached for a towel, he gave a soap-opera-appropriate sigh. "Do you think I want to hear about your dream guy?"
"He's not my dream guy. He's just a guy in my dreams." Who happened to really stand out, but Elena didn't risk telling her fiancé that. "Why don't you go change? I'll fix you some oatmeal too."
"I hate oatmeal." He glared at the pot she was stirring. "I'll get something on the way in to the hospital." Just before he walked out of the kitchen, he turned back to face her. "And remember Mom and Janine are coming to dinner tonight."
"Tonight? I thought we were going out to dinner tonight."
"Why would we be going out?"
"For my birthday." Seriously, did she need to remind him of everything?
"Today's not your birthday."
"But I'm off today. I work tomorrow. We can't go out then."
"It's the only time they can come over to plan the wedding. You should be thanking them. Without their help, you'd be doing this on your own."
"I know." Elena nodded stiffly, wiping the rest of the spilled coffee off the counter. "I'll fix something. Or maybe we could grill burgers? We haven't used the new picnic table yet."
"In this heat? No. If you don't want to cook, just go pick something up."
Stefan followed Caroline through the glass double doors. He didn't have to search for his brother. Damon was sitting in the exact same spot at the same oversized table where he sat every year. The very same seat in the very same restaurant where he'd been the night they were celebrating Elena's twenty-first birthday when Jo went into labor.
Caroline released Stefan's hand as she rushed to greet Bonnie and Matt while giving a too-friendly wave at Damon. Tyler muttered some kind of welcome from the far side of the table. They'd done this every year for the past five. The only thing that changed was who attended the not-quite-birthday party. Once Jo and Ric arrived with the twins, everyone would be here. Literally. The same group who had gathered that night surrounded the table now. Try as he might, Stefan couldn't remember another time when they'd all been together – not since that night.
Of course, he was overlooking one major absence.
Now Stefan was standing directly in front of Damon. Rather than attempt any type of awkward guy hug, he and Damon simply exchanged not-completely-relaxed nods. Things had never been the same between them since the night Elena left. Since the night Damon compelled her to leave. Stefan couldn't help but suspect that Damon partially blamed him for the way that night ended, and he hadn't been able to have the discussion with Elena on his own terms.
If Caroline had handled things differently….
If Jo hadn't mentioned being young and carefree…
If Elena hadn't been on the brink of a breakdown as massive as when she'd lost Jeremy, maybe things would be different. Damon would have been able to ask her what she wanted – to prepare her for the life he'd so carefully crafted for her. But he didn't get that chance.
At least that's what Stefan suspected Damon thought. But Stefan knew the truth. Just like Elena turned to keep him from becoming a ripper again, she'd have chosen to stay a vampire just to keep Damon from the pain of being alone.
At least those thoughts rippled through Stefan's brain when he tried to sleep.
Damon was alone.
No one questioned that.
More alone than he'd ever been – even when waiting to free Katherine from the tomb. While Damon's days still appeared to be filled by responsibilities on the town council, and he'd become the official after-school babysitter for the twins, each night he returned to the too-large boardinghouse.
Alone.
That's why they were all here tonight.
"Damon!" Twin noisemakers rocketed through the restaurant and landed directly at Damon's side. Stefan never dreamed his brother would be good with kids, especially not these since they were tied so closely to Elena's loss, but they were the recipients of the first genuine smile he'd seen in Damon's face so far that evening.
"Can we have soda tonight?" Noah bounced, holding on to Damon's arm for support.
"Mom said it was up to you."
"Since we're going home with you."
"They're spending the night?" Caroline didn't even try to hide her shock.
"It's the pre-birthday slumber party. It's kind of a tradition." Jo stepped over the bench, sliding to a seat beneath the red and white checkered tablecloth.
"They love it." The way Ric raised his eyebrows hinted that he and Jo loved it too. "Nina packed her nail polish."
"Damon does nails?" Now it was Bonnie's turn to be surprised.
"You'll be surprised at what I can do." He pushed up from his seat, Noah clinging to one arm while Nina took his other hand. "Let's go order. You two want cheeseburgers?"
"No pickles." Noah's eyes widened with almost-horror.
"No pickles." Damon nodded his head in agreement.
As he walked away from the group, Bonnie spoke first. "How is he?"
Jo shrugged a shoulder. "Couldn't ask for a better babysitter."
"That's not what I meant."
Jo nodded. "I know."
"How does he do it?"
"Act like he doesn't miss her?" Ric shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "No idea."
The group started to follow Damon and the twins but Matt held back, catching hold of Bonnie's arm. He waited until enough of the partygoers separated them from Damon before turning his back on them. He leaned close to her ear, speaking in a whisper. "I know how he does it."
"What do you mean?"
"He knows where she is. He's got someone making sure she's okay."
"How do you know that?"
Matt's eyes locked on Bonnie's as Stefan tried to pretend he wasn't listening to their conversation. "Because it's me."
"And you're sure you don't have any baby pictures for the table at the reception table, Ellie? Maybe an aunt or your grandfather?" Jaime's mother asked the same question she asked every time the wedding planning came up.
Elena gave the same answer she always did. "No pictures. I'm sorry. No grandparents. No aunts or uncles. My family was pretty small. Once the house burned…" She stood and walked away from the table before she had to endure another evening filled with forced smiles.
It would have been easier just to elope.
She'd suggested eloping multiple times – the first coming after seeing Jaime's mother recoil with horror when she informed the family of her I'm-an-orphan status. The woman looked like her son had just fallen in love with Annie or something.
She didn't need Jaime's money.
She didn't want it.
Once she made it clear that she could happily pay off her college tuition, medical school expenses, and buy a house on her own…Mrs. Jenkins finally relaxed a little bit. But this wedding planning was giving her a migraine.
"We still need to finalize the guest list." Jaime's sister pulled out her ever-present laptop. "Do you have your names ready, Ellie?"
Elena walked to the refrigerator, trying to mask her annoyance by pulling out the cheesecake she'd picked up on the drive home. Maybe if she left her head inside it long enough, they'd finish planning the wedding without her because this wedding stopped being about her a dozen decisions ago.
"Ellie? Are you just going to stand there letting all the cold out?" Jaime's mother sounded as aggravated as she felt.
"No." Elena reached past the cheesecake for the bowl of strawberries and the freshly-whipped cream she'd prepared earlier. After placing them on the kitchen island, she turned back for the chocolate cheesecake. "Just making sure I had everything."
Janine stood and walked to the kitchen island to help distribute the dessert. She seemed to be looking for something. Biting her lip, she rocked onto her toes, surveying the kitchen cabinets. "Do you have any wine?"
"I thought we'd fix coffee." Elena started toward the coffee pot.
"Oh, I think Janine's right. A nice cabernet would be perfect just now." Jaime's mother stood to join Janine in a search for wine.
"We've got some in the chiller." Jaime prompted helpfully. Of course he'd put wine in the chiller. He couldn't even pick up take-out for dinner, but he made sure to have his mother's favorite wine at the ready.
Elena pulled three wine glasses out of the cabinet as she flicked on the coffee maker. After Jaime uncorked the bottle, he began to pour.
"Aren't you having any tonight?" Jaime's mother looked suspicious.
"I really prefer coffee. I think it goes better with the chocolate."
"Your loss." Jaime lifted his glass on the way to his seat. "All the more for us."
"No need to finish it. I can stopper it." Elena suggested.
"Nonsense. It's never as good later." Janine settled behind her computer in a position that suggested they weren't going to end this planning session any time soon. "Now. I've already put our relatives in."
"And the friends from the club." Jaime's mother sipped from her glass.
"Right. The club friends as well. That brings the list to…" Janine toggled the keyboard to scroll up on the page. "It brings the list to 500."
Elena gagged on her coffee. "Did you say 500? The cottage won't hold that."
"Oh, did we not tell you? We changed the venue."
"The cottage just screamed hipster. Not the right feel for your wedding at all." Janine shook her head.
"Of course it's not." Elena nursed her coffee, sitting back in her chair, allowing the others to take control of the wedding planning meeting. After the first few times they'd met to plan, she'd discovered it was much more painless if she simply let them make all the decisions. If she tried, they'd just come back and change things.
And so the wedding plans continued around her. From time to time, she was consulted about the color of the invitation or whether or not they wanted their initials embossed on the napkins or what time would work better for her to meet to taste cakes at the bakery Janine used for her wedding.
By the time they were ready to call it a night, two empty wine bottles sat on the counter, and Elena had lost track of the glasses Jaime had to drink. Since neither Janine nor her mother seemed drunk, Elena suspected he crossed into too-much land a bottle ago.
"Thank you for all your help." Elena glanced at Jaime as she tried to give an overly gracious goodbye to her future mother and sister-in-law. "I really appreciate it."
"You're welcome. We'll see you on Saturday for the dinner?"
"Dinner?"
"To introduce you to the members of the club."
Elena flinched. "I think I work on Saturday."
"Well then change it."
"She'll change it." Jaime nodded, standing in the doorway. "We'll be there."
The door closed with a too-loud click. Jaime turned to her. "What do you mean you have to work?"
"Work. As in, work… I have to cover the shift for Lacey."
"We'll talk about it later." He picked up a wine bottle, tilting it to the side. When he noticed some left inside, he began to pour it into a fresh glass.
"Don't you think you've had enough?" Elena asked the question and immediately regretted it.
Matt wasn't sure why he did it. He'd already been here this month. He'd sat outside, pretending to be tying his shoe until he caught a glimpse of her. The month before that, he'd been checking his phone and acting like he was lost during a walk. Neither scenario was perfect, but he'd quickly discovered this was one of those neighborhoods where people didn't even recognize their next-door neighbors when they ran into them at the grocery store. Thankfully, that meant no one thought he was out of place.
Elena's house was halfway between the restaurant and Matt's apartment. It wasn't out of his way at all. Tonight, he'd park his car at the park down the street and act like he'd lost his dog. He hadn't tried to come this late at night before, but if someone called security on him, he could flash his badge. No one needed to know he was even on the street.
That was the plan.
And it almost worked.
Matt arrived just as two women walked down the sidewalk and got into a car parked on the corner. Judging by the volume of their conversation, they'd had more than a few drinks. He quickly made note of their license plate and texted it to a friend on patrol in the city.
Then he began a too-slow walk down the street. That's when he first heard them. He couldn't make out the words. But he heard Elena.
Every time he heard her, his heart skipped a beat.
Most of the time, he just pretended like he was dead.
Except on nights like tonight when he was acting as Damon's personal spy. The idea almost sickened him, but he knew he'd be doing it with or without Damon. He would have looked for her. When he called to tell Jeremy that Elena was human again, he promised Jeremy he'd help keep her safe, and he always kept his promises.
And then he heard her scream.
Not an I'm-having-fun scream. Or a my-team-just-won-the-game scream. This was the kind of scream he heard when he'd been called out to break up a domestic disturbance at one of the houses on the wrong side of the tracks on his beat.
One thing he'd learned in his years as a cop. Abuse didn't care about your zip code – just the more space between your house and your neighbors, they were less likely to call 911. She screamed again. It sounded like she was begging someone to stop.
Matt couldn't just stand there and listen. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and walked to the front door. When no one answered, he rang the bell. He didn't expect Elena to answer the door.
Her eyes were too bright when the door cracked open, and Matt's trained eyes didn't miss the way she wiped the trickle of blood from the corner of her lips with the back of her hand. "Hello?"
"Is this Maggie's house?"
"Um. No." Elena looked genuinely confused.
Matt was confused too. He didn't know where to go from here. "Is this 212 Breckenridge?"
"No." Elena shook her head, stepping out onto the porch. "This is Canyon Circle. Breckenridge is the next street over."
"Sorry. Sometimes the GPS is wrong." Matt feigned an apology.
"It's not a problem."
"I'm going to bed." A man standing in the shadows stormed off, and Elena gave a visible sigh of relief.
Elena hesitated at the doorway, waiting for the man to leave before turning back to Matt. "Do you need anything else?"
"No. Just trying to be on time for dinner. Thanks for your help."
"Any time." She gave a half-smile. "And you're welcome."