CHAPTER 18 – THE REAPING

**This is a semi-chapter – a birthday gift for a reader.**

This is it. No matter how I try to deny it, or how much I know that it's wrong – I love him. I love Stefan.

Stefan Salvatore – strong, intelligent, smart, beautiful, mysterious, vampire, Stefan… I am in love with him. I've fallen in love with him and he's leaving me… I know it. Now that he's rid me of the dangers that being with him have brought to my small town life, he's leaving to save me.

That's all I can think right now, driving him back to his house on the outskirts of town – both of us staring straight ahead into the black night. As I try to avoid this tension, my mind is having trouble finding any topic that does not involve him. His hand so close to me, resting on the console between us. Stefan has this scent – this intoxicating, clean smell about him… it's all around me, light in the heavy air between us, taunting me to move closer to him – inhale his scent, inhale him. The way the lights of the passing cars on this two-lane highway catch his features and shadow his Roman face in a way that tightens my stomach to an even greater degree. When that pressure against my chest starts to affect my breathing, I do what I can to find other things to think about:

The starless sky.
The woods on each side of the highway.
The sound of the tires on the gravel as we turn into the Salvatore Boarding House.

This is it. I pull to a stop and a million words rush to my lips but the only thing I want to say is 'Please, Stefan… don't go.'

Turning off the ignition kills the headlights and it's silent – just Stefan and me and this strange tension between us and the looming end to whatever it is that he and I have. He starts to move – his hand going for the handle of the passenger door and I just start talking.

"What I said before, about you leaving – it was harsh." I'm rambling. I'm just trying to keep him here – in my sight, near me, with me. I love him.

I'm trying to think of someway to continue the conversation, lost in my thoughts of what my life will be like without Stefan in it when he says in a soft, yet detached tone, "No, you had every right."

Then he turns to me, those honest eyes of his nearly colorless in this darkness and I lose my strong-girl will power – afraid that if I look at him I may cry as it's only been a few weeks and for the life of me I can't remember what it felt like to not have this beautiful man by my side, I continue to stare straight ahead and begin what I know will be the equivalent of me begging him to be with me pleading with him to change his mind.

"You asked me what I wanted my future to be," Hundreds of images of my parents fill my mind, giving me the courage I need to do what I know is right no matter what the world may think of my love for Stefan, my love for a vampire. Facing him, I continue – opening up to him in a way I can not do with anyone else. "I wanted to be a writer. My mom sort of pushed me into that direction from the time I was able to read," Oh gosh, he's just so beautiful, looking at me like that… really listening to me speak. "She supported me, encouraged me, bought me my first journal… and then she died." Just before he looks away, I see the heartbreak in his eyes – it's like he can feel how those four words dig into me. The way he's listening to me, the way he seems to feel what I'm feeling, it just pushes me to continue pouring myself out to him. "…and I can't see myself being a writer anymore – that was something that we shared." I love him. I love the way he respects me. The way he wants to shelter me. "I know that you think that you brought all of this bad stuff into my life but my life already had it. I was buried in it!" I'm about to say, Buried in it until you, but he cuts me off.

"This is different."

"It doesn't make it any less painful." I've tried so hard not to cry, but as the tears pool around my lashes I know I'm about to lose this fight.

Stefan looks at me, inhales, then pauses – resting his head against the seat behind him. Something about this delay only fills my eyes with heavier tears. "I… I know that – that it's hard to understand." Stefan Salvatore stammering with words – it's the first time he's ever been anything less than perfectly articulate and these stutters are scaring me, hurting me. I even shake my head no, silently asking him not to continue with whatever it is that he's about to say – whatever words he's going to use to tell me we are over. In the softest whisper, he crushes me with, "But I'm doing this for you." Then leaves me sitting in the truck and watching him walk away.

Again. Again, he's walking away from me. Again, he is deciding what is right for me. Fueled with anger, I find myself opening the drivers door and slamming it loudly as I step towards him, saying in a loud, surprisingly strong voice "No! You don't get to make that decision for me. If you walk away, it's for you, because I know what I want…" I wish he'd turn around, acknowledge me – something! Before I can even consider not telling him what my heart is forcing onto my tongue, I feel my mouth open and my lips forming the words that I have never told anyone in my life – "Stefan, I love you."

It seems like so long, looking at the back of his head – at his tensed back and his hands at his sides, his fingers moving just the slightest. I feel my heart start to hurt, my lungs ache, the tears in my eyes becoming too much for me to resist – and then he shifts his weight. From one leg to the other, Stefan shifts his weight and turns to look at me over his shoulder. He's got this look of disbelief on his face… like maybe he's never heard anyone confess their love to him before, like maybe my love for him means more than I can even begin to imagine.

Closing his eyes, swallowing hard, I watch him absorb my confession as that pressure against my chest seems to both pull me and push me at the same time – wrapping around me tightly. I'm nearly lost in the vibration, the tingling against my skin when Stefan's quick movement brings me back to the moment and in just a few wide strides, his strong hands are holding my face in that way that feels so warm and the man I love is kissing me – tasting my lips like he's never experienced anything so sweet.

I can't explain what it feels like – this kiss, this soul-crushing, life-altering, electrified slipping of his lips against mine – I can only tell you that I have never felt so alive, so real, so veracious in my life. Every nerve in my body is begging for his touch as his thumbs softly slip down by cheeks and he moves away from our kiss – leaving me breathless, wanting more like I never have before.

I don't want to stop this feeling – the buzzing, the pressure, the pushing and pulling of my body to his body – so as we move inside we continue to kiss, our lips finding each other as I strip of my jacket and wrap my arms around him. I wish I could tell you what it's like to kiss the man your mouth was made to taste – how he meets each movement of my tongue with his, how he sucks my lip into his mouth, the way his teeth scrap across my over sensitive skin.

I've got my hands in his hair and I am completely lost in him, in all these millions of emotions that I have coursing through me – when Stefan turns away from me, I don't realize the problem. I kiss his perfectly shaped jaw, suck at the warm skin just below his ear – but then he turns away, pushing my hands from his body, ripping me out of my haze of love and lust and his warm, clean scent, and that strange tension.

For the smallest of moments I feel my heart hit the floor – rejection cutting into me, taking my already short breath out of my lungs – but then I understand. I don't know if it just hit me because it made sense, or if I could sense it… I know, I know that sounds crazy – but I truly sense his shame, his guilt. My beautiful, strong, unbreakable Stefan Salvatore is scared to let me see him. I can't stand it – I can't take this, feeling his guilt. I can't let him ever feel like this again – not because of me, not with me.

Running my hands over his back, down his arm, I swear to myself that I will never, ever be the cause of Stefan feeling shamed. I love him. I will be his solace.

"Don't." I hardly have enough oxygen to say anything at all.

It honestly hurts me when Stefan says to me, "Elena, I can't." and I'm enveloped in that feeling – that sense of his hurt, of his pain, of his guilt.

But I don't care – I don't care that he's a vampire. I love him. I love him for being so kind, so gentle. For the way he listens to me when I speak and the way he trusts me. I love him for the way he touches me, for the way he looks at me like I'm the most precious thing in his universe. "Yes, you can." I sigh, my hand finding face and gently guiding him back to me. He resists – so strong, so deeply hurt – but I want him to know that it doesn't matter to me. I want him to know how I feel. "Don't hide from me."

And when he turns to me, he can't look at my face – that shame that he's feeling so heavy, so real as it flows into my chest. I should probably be scared, frightened by the blood red of his eyes or the veins beneath his skin… but as his face finds the light and I get a real, true look at Stefan, I'm in awe of how beautiful he is. Beautiful in a way that I've never seen. In a way that I cannot understand. I can't stop myself from touching his face – exquisitely perfect in every way, from his nude-pink lips to his furrowed brow, Stefan is breath-takingly handsome.

When I stand on my toes and hold his face, leaning up to kiss him, I feel Stefan tense – begin to move away – but my lips find his and I kiss his Roman face softly, sweetly – praying that he can feel how much I love him, praying that he can sense that I will accept him no matter what.

And when I pull away, once again wrapped in that effervescent sparking of electricity between us, I look up at that perfect face of his as Stefan looks down at me like he's never seen me before – like he can't believe I'm real - and right there, in that moment, as I see his honest green eyes looking into mine – that's when I know that I will never be the same.

That's when I know that I've fallen in love with Stefan Salvatore forever, for always, no matter what.

And then I wake up – I wake up in Bonnie's extra bedroom, my eyes finding the white gold band sitting on the night stand that should be on Stefan's finger just as soon as my eyelids open. For a long while, I don't move. I just lay there and think of Stefan. I'm cold without him. I'm empty and I'm alone and I'm craving our gravity as the sunlight begins to peak in through the blinds.

But more than anything, I miss feeling like that – like the girl that I was when I loved Stefan with my entire being, with my whole heart. I miss that bond between us when he knew that I accepted him. I miss being that girl that loved him no matter what.

I can be that girl again…

-Caroline-

"So, wait…" I stop short, in the middle of the hallway with five interns surrounding me. The most ignorant of the pack nearly runs right into me with a hot cup of coffee but I am far too caught up in the story of last night's dinner to do much more than turn back and glare at her. I'm fuming – steaming mad! I can't believe we missed this – I can't believe Katherine used a piece of cake to tell everyone but Damon that she think's Stefan is the father… but most of all, I can't believe Elena! "she said what?!"

He was reluctant to tell me about Elena's smart ass remarks – I could hear it in the way he stammered around it. Stefan doesn't 'um', he doesn't 'ya know' – the few times he has used such conversation delay tactics, it was usually to soften the blow of some terrible news.

"Just leave, please."

"Leave it? Stefan." I say sharply, in disbelief almost - one hand holding my cell much too tightly and the other wrinkling the pages of the transcripts left from the morning news broadcast. "You can't let Elena-"

"Caroline, listen to me, okay?" Even over the phone I can hear that anger of his brimming at the surface – creating that grit in his voice and that bass in the tone of his words that has always made me a little scared even though I know Stefan would never hurt me. His words are at an easy pace, but I can almost see that furrowed brow and clenched jaw as he says, "I called because I needed to talk to someone. To you – not to get a lynch mob after my wife! Can you please just let me vent about this now so that I don't lose it when I talk to her later?"

Holding my thoughts in is really not by forte'. Truth be told, I kind of enjoy telling someone off – spouting my opinion about what they're doing wrong or not doing right… so as I swallow the sentences that are fighting to come out of my mouth – Elena needs to realize how good she has it! She cheated on you! Who does she think she is, talking to you like that! How dare she call you out on leaving! I should talk to her… I should call her up and tell her that she's being a real moron about this whole thing – so yea, as I force myself to keep those thoughts from becoming audible words for Stefan's sake, I release a little bit of my aggravation on my least favorite intern – Shelby – snatching the papers for tomorrow's news cast out of her hand and giving her a 'now get away from me!' big eyed glare.

I guess that 'mean girl' that I used to be – pre vampire, junior year Caroline Forbes - is still alive and well somewhere inside of me because I get a thrill at how the 20 year old girl withers away from me.

"You're right, Stefan." I groan. He is right, but I still don't like it. "I'm sorry. You should be able to talk to me without worrying that I'm going to run her down about it." When Stefan doesn't respond, I can't help but wonder if he's angry with me or faltering on his plan of standing his ground. "I know you love her, Stefan, and Elena loves you," I choose my words carefully, flipping through the papers in my hands – hardly seeing them but trying to look busy infront of the interns. "But you can't always be the one to toe the line. Elena has to give sometimes too." I drop a few of the pages and Shelby quickly recovers them, handing them back to me as I give her a quick smile and shove the transcripts and police sketches back into the pile. "Stay the course, Stefan… You deserve to be treated better." A few more seconds of silence leads me to ask in a frustrated tone, "Are you still there?"

"I'm here. I've got another call coming through." From the chime of happiness in his voice, I already know who it is before he tells me, "it's Elena."

Of course it's Elena – she's slept on it and she's woke up and realized just how wonderful he is and just how messed up this whole situation has become. As Stefan and I say goodbye, I remind him that Klaus and I will be in town in two weeks then tell him that I love him – he doesn't reply in kind, but I know he loves me even if he never says it.

"Here, Shelby." I frown, taking off my heels and giving them to the mousy intern. "And would you please make copies of these – they're all bent up now." I ask with my best smile even though my swollen feet and swollen tummy are causing my body to ache – I'm only four months pregnant and can already feel the difference!

-Stefan-

"Can I come over?"

Yes. Of course. Please, come over. Talk to me. Stay with me. Touch me. Let me touch you. I love her all the way down to the marrow in my bones and it's breaking me to deny myself when I say, "Why?"

There's a pause – I hate myself for hurting her, but I can see no other way. Twice now, twice Elena's cut into me with the things I regret most in life… things that haunt me every single day. When I think of the way she used my guilt against me, it breaks my heart and changes something in the way I feel about her…

"I'd really like to talk to you." There's a waving in her voice, a gently murmur that tugs at my heart. "About Katherine, the baby… what our future is going to look like if it's yours."

If it's mine… everything weighs on that. Whether or not she can love me depends on if Katherine's child belongs to me or Katherine's other victim – Elena's brother. I wonder how Elena will react when she finds out that I love the child growing in Katherine's body. I wonder what she's going to think of me when I tell her that I plan on taking care of the baby, of Katherine, should Damon find out and turn them away. The images in my mind of Elena glaring at me, looking at me like I'm worthless, like I'm no good to her anymore, they flare up my anger and it's audible in my voice when I say, "What does it matter if I'm the father?"

She laughs into the receiver – one of those half chuckles, half hmph's that your body releases when your brain isn't sure if you've just heard the other person right. "What does it matter?"

I repeat myself, this time I feel the beginnings of the anger from last night's insult weaving back into me – I can't just run off like you do –

"What does it matter if I'm the father, Elena?"

"How is it that you're mad at me?" She asks, her attitude rising as well. "You cheated on me and now Katherine may be pregnant with your child – it matters, Stefan."

I bite my upper lip long enough to gain just enough control to keep from raising my voice – still, my tone is rough and louder than I want it to be when I say, "I did not consciously cheat on you, Elena. I did not see Katherine standing before me and think, you know what, she's worth destroying my entire life for. Sleeping with her is worth hurting Elena, hurting the woman that I adore, the woman that I love. There was no moment of confusion where I wasn't sure what I wanted, Elena. I didn't decide to be with Katherine on a whim in Spain!" I have to stop. Take a deep breath. Elena is dead silent on the line, taking in my words of anger about her and Damon for the first time. I forgave Elena the moment she came to see me after she got back from Spain – in an instant, I saw her and I felt how much I love her and I remembered all the ways I could have been better to her and I forgave her. I let it go, because of how much I love her… but right now the wound feels so fresh, so painful.

After a long moment of silence, Elena says my name in a small voice – a small, near tears voice that would normally tie my tongue and shake me to my core. "Stefan…"

"It shouldn't matter if the child is mine, Elena." My voice is not as loud, but much more rough, much more telling of the pain and the anger and the hurt that I can't control. "There shouldn't be an if to loving someone, there shouldn't be a maybe. I am not a choice, Elena."

And I hang up. I drop the phone on the floor and I feel both tore down and terrified that I've just ended us in her eyes, as well as liberated for finally telling her how she hurt me.

She's cheated on me – Elena chose to have sex with Damon. She's fallen in love with my brother. After telling me she couldn't be with me, dragging me through hell as I had to relive the love triangle with Damon, agreeing to marry him, agreeing to turn for him… pushing me away in Wilmington and holding Allie infront of me like a dangling carrot that I could never touch. After everything we've been through and every time she's chosen Bonnie, or Matt, or Jeremy, or Damon over me… I love her.

I will always love Elena. It's impossible not to love the only person in the entire world that knows me for who I really am. Whatever this is that we're going through, wherever it leads us, however far apart we may grow – it'll never change the fact that my soul will forever be tangled with Elena's.

The problem is, she has no idea how closely I have wrapped myself around her… the way I love her changed me. From that night we spent talking in her bedroom, years and years ago, with each passing day my love for her has grown and swollen and dug itself deeper into me, rooting into my soul – nothing will ever change that.

Falling back into the leather armchair, I'm heavy with sorrow from rehashing our painful past – I close my eyes and like always, I see her face… and I can't help but wonder what it must feel like to be loved the way I love her.

***MORE TO COME***

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