CHAPTER 13 – THE REAPING

-Stefan-

Maybe I have the water too hot or my knees locked and my brain is not getting enough blood flow, but when I open my eyes, blinking through the shower water rolling down my face, I'm just slightly disoriented. Truth be told, for a long moment I'm not sure where I am or what time it is, much less what year is it or how I got to the shower. I guess I've been holding my breath too long, my face submerged by the steady stream of water, as I'm short of breath and it seems like I'm nearly drowning by the time I come to and lean a bit further into the wall – escaping the downpour of water just enough where I can gasp an inhale, both hands splaying flat onto the cool tile for support as the water streams down my back.

Just like every other minute of every other day, I'm flooded with thoughts of Elena – of that wounded look in her eyes, each and every time she's blatantly avoided my touch, the very distant and cold atmosphere between us for the past eleven days… I guess that's why I tense the instant I feel her hand slipping cool against the heated skin of my stomach – then her voice saying my name, right up against shoulder blade and I feel her body pressing against my body, both of her arms tightly around me.

Thankful that she's here, our gravity fizzing between our skin, I put my hands over hers and lace our fingers together as she whispers, "Stefan, I love you." I feel the tension in my body releasing, seeping from muscles and out of my skin, washed away with the water by her words. I love her.

It's been nearly two weeks since we've touched and my heart is pounding in my chest, the rest of my body reacting in line.

Turning to face her, I slip my fingers into her damp hair and wipe at a few beads of water on her cheeks – my eyes torn between looking into the deep, clear, endless brown of her eyes – I love her - or her parted, shiny wet lips – I want her. I barely notice that along with a dark purple tanktop, she's wearing that necklace I gave her back when we first met. I look down, wondering why she's wearing clothes in the shower, but my mind is caught up by the sight of her bra peeking out from the top of her shirt and the way the now heavy, wet fabric clings to her curved stomach.

Her fingers graze against my neck to my jawline and down to my chin, lifting my face to hers as she says, "Don't hide from me…"

Confused, I recognize that line from what feels like a thousand years ago – the first time we made love – and my want for her increases ten-fold. The frequency between us at an unimaginable level, pressing against my lungs and weaved tightly into my every muscle – it feels so good that I forget she's wearing clothes in the shower and forget that she's calling back to our first time; kissing her fingers as they graze across my lips.

I cannot not taste her… my lips are tingling and my body feels as if it's been starved for her! Very aware of the electricity between us, I stop the instant our lips touch – the hesitation sends fire coursing through my veins and that gravity forces me to move closer to her and pull her against me at the same time that I feel her slowly suck my bottom lip into her mouth and her hands cool hands glide across my heated skin to my neck.

…Then there are hands on my waist.

I kiss Elena harder, deeper, moving us against the shower wall with her hands in my hair and my body grinding against hers… hoping that I've imagined that second touch and not wanting to stop this completely unexpected reconciliation between my beautiful wife and I.

"Stefan." I feel her lips against my neck, saying my name in that sickeningly sweet voice of hers and that second pair of hands moving down my stomach while Elena's fingers fist in my hair and she moans into my mouth.

The shock of hearing Katherine's voice knocks me out of sync with Elena and I pull back, stunned maybe. Like she hasn't heard her, Elena kisses my jaw, then my neck, leaving kisses inbetween her words as her lips tease my every nerve ending, "I know who you really are." A long, hard suck beneath my ear, "better than anyone." As Elena's voice vibrates through my body and her kisses tingle against my skin, I find myself coming back to the moment – my mouth yearning to find hers once more… I'm forgetting about Katherine though her hands have moved to the lowest low of my torso and her touch is teasing around my groin.

"I checked in on you over the years." I'm trying to ignore Katherine's voice, the way it's floating into me – but with her hands moving against me and her body pressed against my back and my body flush against Elena's, the pleasure is immeasurable. I can feel Elena's breathing starting to pick up, the passion in her kisses flaming and her tongue slipping and bumping against my tongue - my body is not listening to any sort of directive from my brain.

Elena smiles up at me when I pull away again, a groan escaping my mouth as Katherine's hand pulls at me and Elena's beautifully playful eyes look into mine as she giggles, "Don't ruin the moment."

I shake my head to try and clear my thoughts and take a hand off of Elena's body to push at Katherine's unforgiving stroking by grabbing her wrist and flinging it away from me.

For a long moment it's just me and Elena and our gravity – I've got one hand in her hair and the other slipped under the cotton fabric of her panties, the flesh of her perfectly round ass in my hands as she moans into my ear and I work at her neck the way she likes… half-sucking, half-biting, with her body writhing against mine… but then Katherine starts speaking into my ear and kissing my back.

"…you were watching Bon Jovi and I was watching you." Her hand slips down me again, "I love you."

"We've got a few hours." Elena whispers against my skin, urging me to continue though I've stopped with my head on her shoulder – confused, out of breath, and relishing in both the gravity of Elena's body and the talented movements of Katherine's hands. "No one has to know. It can just be for us."

I swear I've heard her say that before.

When I move to look up at Elena, to ask her why she keeps repeating things she's said to me in the past, Katherine's hand grabs my face and pulls me to look at her over my shoulder.

She looks so much like Elena, like the real love of my life.

But where I see innocence and compassion and truth in Elena's eyes I only see darkness in Katherine's… a darkness that I know lives in me, as well. It's that darkness that will link me to Katherine, possibly forever.

I'm trying to turn my head away from her, but I can't move – Katherine's touch is light against my face but somehow it's overpowering. "I've done terrible things, I know that, but I do love you, Stefan." My eyes move from her sinister eyes to her painted red lips. Once again, I swear I've heard this exact line… word for word, in the same raspy voice that makes me want to taste her tongue.

Like she can read my mind or see my want for her on my face, Katherine whispers, "Nobody will ever know." just as her lips find mine and Elena's mouth sucks at my neck.

Katherine even tastes like the real thing, just like Elena.

I'm holding Elena and she's kissing and sucking at my chest and neck while I kiss Katherine hard and fast – hungry for her, biting her bottom lip hard enough that she presses her nails into my stomach. The contradiction of Katherine's rough, almost domineering touch and kisses combined with the frequency I have with Elena, her fingers in my hair and her mouth on my skin and those soft, throaty moans that she gives … I'm in this heady phase of lust and love and luscious pleasure… and guilty. I feel so ashamed for liking this as much as I do.

"Stefan…" Elena sighs, "I love you." and I turn back to her… my virtuous, perfect wife.

"Fuck me, Stefan" Katherine groans, taking my hand from Elena's face and placing it on her firm, curved hip – I can feel this internal tearing of what I want to be and what I know I am… dark versus light, good versus bad… unable to resist, I turn just slightly away from my wife, towards Katherine even though I know she's virulent and toxic. My gaze is locked on her cherry red lips as she whispers, "Taste what you do to me", kissing her is completely different than kissing Elena – it feels wrong, obscene… but at the same time I feel a part of me waking to her, that darkness in me that she gave life too so very long ago.

"Please Stefan," Elena's voice brings me back from the edge – I'm instantly sickened by the taste of Katherine and I move away from her. "Don't leave me." Elena says, taking my face in her hands… "I'd die. I love you." I nod as Elena begins to kiss my shoulder, her hand moving over my bare chest. "Stefan." I love her. I love Elena. With my every cell, I belong to her.

I despise Katherine… I do not want her touching me and I do not want to want to touch her, but I can't seem to escape her even as I focus on Elena's beautiful, loving eyes.

Katherine says my name in a moan, "Stefan." But I try to ignore her, burying my face into Elena's wet hair and pulling her body against mine.

"Stefan…" Elena sighs. "Stefan."

Then I open my eyes and Elena is standing next to me and I'm ten times more disoriented that I have ever been in my life, but she's scowling at me and holding out my new cell phone. "Stefan, wake up."

I sit up – probably too fast to look casual, but I'm terrified that I may be as turned on as I was in my dream and I cannot bear to have to explain to Elena what I was dreaming about… every night for eleven nights I've had a dream much like that one and it's the reason why I've been avoiding sleep in it's entirety. Putting the pieces together, realizing that I must have fallen asleep outside of Grayson's room when I sat down to see if he could put himself back to sleep, I'm rubbing my eyes and trying to breath as if I am not out of breath when Elena drops the phone on the floor beside me and says, "Katherine sent you a text message." as she walks away from me.

-Caroline-

I wake up to the sound of Klaus' voice, though he's speaking French and I have no idea what he's saying, it's so sexy to see him being very-business man in his unbuttoned pants and unbuttoned shirt, leaned against the wall and eyeing me still in the bed. After a long moment of him spouting off some foreign words and me looking my incredibly hot husband over, a full on fantasy going off in my head, Klaus continues his conversation but climbs onto the bed – on top of the comforter, on top of me, the covers pinning me down beneath his body weight as I give a feeble attempt at getting away and suppress my giggles.

"Cet après-midi," He's speaking into the phone and directly against my cheek, his scruffy beard and soft lips tickling my skin. ""Direct seulement… rien de connexion." He could be talking about cleaning toilets, I have no idea, but I'm melting with each word and each grazing of his lips. "Mmm, merci." He kisses my jaw, "merci, qui fera", then drops the phone and sucks onto my neck in just the right spot.

"Is there a problem…" Think Caroline! I tell myself as I begin to lose myself in his kisses, "With the…" I mean to ask if there is a problem with the house we purchased in France, but that's the best I can do as he adjusts his weight and my arms are free and I just want him – now.

"Yes, mon amour" Klaus stops kissing me and leans up a bit, looking down at me with those bleached blue eyes that I still find so compelling – bad word, I know… but there's no other word that fits. "You're my wife, you're carrying my child, and yet you are working much too hard."

I frown – this has been the topic of our last few arguments, me working instead of lounging around all day with him, or traveling and spending money and being nothing more than some wealthy gypsies. My argument is and will be, I have to work because I love to work… and we're having a child who needs a home, somewhere to plant roots and feel secure. When I open my mouth to start my side of this revolving door tiff we keep running into, Klaus plants a kiss directly on my sticky morning lips and I cringe at the thought.

"No." He smiles that Cheshire cat smile of his, "I'm taking you away for the weekend, and there is nothing that can be done to change my mind, darling." Klaus adds as he moves off of the bed, his hand grazing over my stomach, our growing baby, as his feet find the floor.

"But Kla-" I start to argue, tell him I can't go all the way to France right now. I'm still behind at work and I have an OB appointment early next week, not to mention all the planning that still needs to be done for our wedding in November!

Interrupting me, he sighs "Nothing." And buttons his pants. "But don't worry. I'll have you back by Monday afternoon." I must look as confused as I feel, trying to calculate the flight times and the time zones between Texas and France, because Klaus continues without me asking, "Besides, Stefan and crew will be landing a few hours after us and when someone moves, isn't it protocol for their best friends to offer a hand?"

I swear – I might burst with happiness, realizing where he's taking us for the weekend. "Klaus…" I smile, coming to my knees and slipping my arms around him, my wonderful husband who really has no idea how to be a friend to anyone but is trying so very hard. "Have I told you how much I love you?"

-Elena-

Did you tell Elena? xo – miss u. ;)

That bitch sent Stefan a message to see if he'd told me about what they'd done… she'd done, I mean.

I was so angry when I read the alert on his phone that I almost called her. I should have! I should have called her and told Katherine exactly what I think of her! The only thing that stopped me was that I was on the verge of tears after reading the message – xo, miss u, winky face! I know that if I would have called her I would have ended up crying into the phone while she reminded me exactly why Stefan should be with her instead of me. So after a moment of staring at the screen of his phone and wondering how he would respond to her, even considering just deleting it, I found Stefan asleep in the hallway and nearly kicked him in the stomach for being such a goddamn perfect father… Let's be honest here, he's even being the perfect after-the-fact-cheating husband!

Going on about our day and going out of his way to let me avoid him, to help me keep from touching him – he gets up in the morning and goes for his run, stretching it out so that he gets home with just enough time for me to get in the car and head to my rented office space. By the time I get home, he's got Allie finished with her homework, Grayson changed and usually bathed, and diner in the making. We eat without speaking to one another – Allie controls the topic of conversation most nights anyway – then once the kids are in bed we go our separate ways.

My marriage has gone from the tip of perfection to the depths of dysfunctional in eleven days.

I'm still steaming mad about the text message and the winky face and the miss u when Stefan comes into the now empty room that used to be our bedroom and says my name in this quiet, pleading way that he does when he knows I'm upset.

I answer with a sigh and the shaking my head, turning to face him with my arms tight around my stomach.

"I hate this." His beautiful eyes look so tired, his brow low and furrowed – the same way I remember him being for most of our relationship from before we came to Thailand. "I hate what I've done to us…"

My mind and my heart are contradicting each other – one saying You didn't do anything wrong, Stefan. And the other saying, yea, you should… you should feel terrible about how you've ruined what we had. I don't know which response belongs to my heart and which belongs to my mind, so instead of giving a verbal response, I just shrug and glare at him and wonder what he said back to Katherine.

Like he can read my mind, Stefan sits his phone on one of the already packed boxes and says, "I'm not going to message her, Elena. I want nothing to do with her."

"I know." I lie even though I can sense his honesty – Stefan has never lied to me, but the majority of my conscience feels as though there's atleast one thing he'd like from her, and probably on a regular basis. I can't handle the thought – I've been unable to eat much and thinking of him with her makes me feel nauseas, so I change the subject in this awkward, short pause, strange tone of voice, "We should get some sleep. The movers will be here early and we'll need to get on the road by nine."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Stefan takes a step towards me and I feel both happy by the shorter distance between us and aggravated that he's not respecting my wishes. "We could stay here…" I roll my eyes and huff at the thought - yea, I want to stay here in this house where Katherine finally got her way. "Or we could buy another place, go to Italy maybe?"

"I need my friends and family right now, Stefan." I frown and hate the way my voice sounds as if I'm talking down to him. "Running off to some unrealistic paradise isn't going to make me forget what you did."

I regret the words that I didn't filter the second I see his jaw clench down and his eyes move to the floor – I've shamed him.

Stefan has always been able to front with superb accuracy and it only takes a second for his eyes to find mine again, "Okay, whatever you want, I'm on board."

I roll my eyes at him, feeling like a petulant teenager who's parent is taking a gentle hand with them while they go through a difficult time – screw him and his perfect responses and understanding and over-all good guy-ness. I'm searching for something to complain about and all I can find is something that happened during dinner tonight. "You're going to have to stop with the whole speaking Italian, secret language thing you and Allie do." Before I know it, my hands are on my hips and I'm speaking louder than I mean to. "It's rude and it makes me like you're trying to talk about something without me knowing."

From the slight turn of his head and the way he raises his eyebrows a bit, I can see Stefan fighting off the urge to get an attitude right back at me, "We were." His tone is so calm and even, totally opposite of the fire I see in his gaze. Even from this distance – me by the window and him near where the bed once was, probably fifteen feet – Stefan's eyes are so easy for me to read. "She wanted to know if we were fighting."

It knocks the wind out of me – hearing that our precious, perfect little Allie that looks so much like the Stefan that I'll love for the rest of my life is aware of the rocky state of our marriage – still, I push on, owning my hurt and fear as anger. I do not want Stefan to know that I'm dying inside… from the news of Allie's observation, of the fact that she felt like she couldn't ask me, and the deep, strong desire that I have in my chest to cross this distance between us and fall into his arms.

Through a tight throat, my voice sounds bitter when I say, "And what did you tell her, Stefan?"

Even as I spit out his name like it's poison from my lips, Stefan stays cool – his body tense and neck flexed, "I asked her when she learned French." I'm confused, my brows knitted together. Stefan continues without me asking, "She wasn't speaking Italian at first. It was French. Old French, actually." He takes another step towards me and I look down at his clean, nice-looking barefeet, then back to his face when he says. "I asked her, in Italian, when she learned French and she said she heard Klaus speaking to himself."

"Speaking to himself?" I ask the question even though we both know the answer… a fear we've had for quite some time. "His thoughts?" Stefan nods, pressing his lips together tightly – another step – our gravity turning softer, easier, nicer. "And she was… fluent?"

Nodding again, yet another step, he does that sexy, slight turn of the head thing he does when his neck is tense, his voice quiet and deep, "Later on when I was reading to her before bed, I asked her what she'd said to me at the table and that's when she asked if we were fighting."

With our frequency easing up, or maybe getting stronger – I don't know – when I speak it's much less hateful than before when I ask again, "What did you tell her?"

Stefan has this way of looking at me… it's like he can see straight through me, like the moment our eyes connect he can feel me and I can feel him and it's both unnerving and soothing – evocative almost. "I told her I love you. That no matter what I'd go out of my way, do anything to make sure you're happy. That sometimes I mess up and I make you cry." I close my eyes to hide the tears beginning to pool at my lashes and to remove his beautiful face from my sight, but it's etched into my memory. "I told her that I know you love me too, and I'm going to do everything I can to make you smile again."

Swallowing hard, I cover my mouth with my fingers and feel Stefan coming closer – our gravity pushing me towards him. After a long moment of me trying to not cry even as a stray tear or two find their way down my cheek, Stefan's hand comes to the side of my face and I just crumble from his gentle touch and the love radiating through us.

I don't know how long I hold onto him, both of my arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and my face buried in his neck – I inhale the scent of him, bathe in his warmth. It's this beautiful silence with nothing but his breathing and my breathing and the simple sincerity of his words still hanging in the air.

Hours later, we're on the floor of our bedroom where our bed once was – me laying flat on my stomach on a blanket he'd found in a not-yet-taped box, and Stefan on his back, laying perpendicular to me – our faces maybe a foot apart. Other than the very long hug earlier tonight, this is the closest we've been since the night we spent on the beach. He's fallen asleep after listening to me spew out all the vile, wretched thoughts I'd been containing for so long now – it's funny, I'd been nauseous since the moment he told me what happened, but now that I'm laying here and I've told my best friend everything that I was feeling, my stomach has stopped that relentless churning and I actually feel… I guess, almost okay.

We talked about my fear that he wants her – I know he's telling me the truth when he swears he doesn't, not in any way, but it's something I'm going to have to deal with on my own as it's been a shadow of doubt in the back of my mind for years… this has just pushed it to the light. I'm still not sure if I meant it when I asked him not to speak to Caroline anymore, but he agreed – without any hesitation at all really… he just let go of the person he's told me understand him second only to me. By the time he fell asleep we'd covered Allie's very odd abilities, the fact that Katherine is cheating on Damon with a second person, a couple of houses he found for sale in Wilmington (he's pulling for North Carolina over Virginia… me, not so much.), and what kind of vehicles we should buy once we get to the states. It was so nice to have a simple, easy conversation with Stefan that I was just about to take back what I'd asked regarding Caroline – I mean, I was just really close, but his beautiful green eyes were looking so sleepy and when I put my hand on his chest to wake him a bit, he took my hand in his and kissed my palm, then my inner-wrist and said, "You own me" in this soft, sweet voice that gave me butterflies and tightened my lungs to the point that I forgot what I was going to say. So now I'm laying here and watching him and I'm ready for us to get home and start our lives again… back where we started.

-Allie-

Grayson is having trouble with his seat, but Mommy and Daddy can't understand him like I do, so after he cries for a very long time and Mommy is nearly completely in the back seat, trying snacks and toys and songs and his bottle, I sit my book down and adjust the shoulder strap for him.

When he tells me thanks, I just smile back.

No one knows that Grayson can talk yet and I don't think Mommy and Daddy would like it if I told them that he only talks to me. He's still very little and doesn't know many words or how to use them like you are supposed to, but I've been listening to him since he was in Mommy's belly, so I have a way of understanding him.

Before Grayson woke up for his name, Mommy was doing that thing where she tries to ask me questions without saying them with her mouth. They've been trying to get me to answer them for as long as I can remember, but I know that no one else can hear what I hear and I know it's wrong, so I've done good at being able to ignore the silent questions and remember to answer the real ones. Daddy surprised me a minute ago, though. I could hear Mommy thinking about Daddy having more babies and I could hear Daddy thinking about how much he doesn't want to move to Mystic Falls and I was reading my favorite part of Where The Wild Things Are when I heard him say my name – just as I realized he hadn't SAID it, I looked up at him looking back at me through the mirror on the window.

I hope I don't get in trouble.

***MORE TO COME***

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