CH26 – THE REAPING

-Bonnie-

Jeremy had been asleep for a few hours while I lay perfectly still beside him and played Words With Friends and text-chated with Damon. It was just near that time of the night where it's obviously too late to get a good amount of sleep before Liam or Lola wake up, but still in the midway point where I know that I'll be tired, but functional, in the morning if I were to put my phone away and get some sleep.

And that's what I've done. I'm curled into a warm ball with the covers up to my chin as my mind replays my three-plus hour talk with Damon and a smile plays at my lips when, no more than sixty seconds after sitting my phone face down on the bedside table, what I know to be an alert of a text from Damon is lighting up the screen and giving a soft, white-blue glow – almost instantly, I have the urge to reach for it.

The few reasons why I shouldn't are easily outnumbered by the fifty why I should – Things like:
- Ignoring him could put a ripple in our still sort of fresh friendship. Really, in the grand total, we've been on good terms for much less than when we were enemies.
- It would be rude to ignore him, Damon, my friend, and I am anything but rude...
- It's already so late, what can a few more messages hurt
- I'm doing a good deed by helping to keep him awake.
I ignore the little discredit that chimes in the back of my head, trying to remind me that Damon is no longer working. Earlier, he mentioned her being in a pretty terrible mood, telling me that he is at home.

My brain creates vivid images in my minds eye - where he's probably in bed after working for twelve hours straight. Surely he's tired and I should let him sleep. I bet Damon is cute when he's sleepy…maybe he's shirtless. In his underwear… briefs. His hair is probably a wet mess from the shower he's just had. Maybe his skin is even a bit damp, warm to the touch. I bet his bright blue eyes are looking at his phone, waiting for my reply to his text - His soft lashes and eyelids heavy, but eager to continue our chat. Maybe he even has that crooked smile that he gets – the one I used to find smug but now I can't even picture his face with that cocky grin without wanting to smile too.

"Bon?" Funny how a tiny whisper becomes the loudest, most shocking sound ever when your very-married brain is in the midst of imagining a basically married man, half-naked.

I give an involuntary, too loud, gasp as Elena's whisper cuts me out of a web of Damon thoughts and my body jumps into action. I sit up so quickly, clutching the comforter to my body, that Elena jumps away from the side of the bed and Jeremy is on his feet in a split second.

"What?!" Jeremy asks loudly, short of breath, startled, and my darkness-adjusted eyes squint from the sudden flood of light as he switches on the lamp. "Katherine?"

I can barely see her at all, but I can still tell that it's Elena and not Katherine – "What?" I frown, glaring at him. "It's Elena! Why would you think Katherine would be in our bedroom?"

Jeremy just shakes his head and gives a sharp release of breath through his nostrils before rubbing his face harshly with both hands.

"I'm sorry!" Elena cringes – embarrassed that she's scared everyone, but still half-laughing at our reaction. "I didn't mean to wake everyone."

"What are you doing, Elena? It's the middle of the night?" Jeremy interrogates, quickly pulling on a tee shirt to cover himself in front of his sister.

"I need to go out for a bit…" Elena slips her hands into her pockets, shrugging her shoulders, "… I'll try to be back by morning, but, um… I can't sleep, and thought, I would, uh, go for a drive."

I've known this girl for years – since we were just babies – she may think she's fooling us, and who knows, Jeremy may be clueless, but from the hands in her pockets to the wide smile on her face and the hint of excitement in her voice, she can skip around the truth all she wants – but best friends just know.

The Stefan and Elena make-up has officially began.

Jeremy and I are awkwardly silent after agreeing to watch Allie and Grayson if she isn't back by morning. We don't even move until we hear the sound of Elena's SUV starting up and see the headlights sweep across the room when she backs out of the drive way. Still quiet, Jeremy tosses his shirt on to the floor as he rounds the bed and goes into the bathroom – I can hear him peeing because he leaves the door open even though I've asked him countless times to just push it shut!

I'm really sleepy and really annoyed with myself for letting my brain drift off into Damon land, so I'm aware that I'm more than likely just in a bad mood when my temper tells me to give him yet another reminder about the door – maybe this time a little less nonchalant about it. Instead, I roll my eyes and give a silent huff when I hear him spit (yes, spit!) into the sink before turning on the faucet.

Just let it go, Bon. I tell myself as I slip back into the covers, turning away from the bathroom door and towards Jeremy's side of the bed.

… Odd.

Jeremy's phone cord is beneath his pillow. Why would he have his phone charging under his pillow?

Just as my arm begins to move towards it, my hand suddenly feeling detached from my body and my lungs tight with some kind of premonition and fear, I feel Jeremy's fingers move across the bare skin of back, just above the fabric of my tank-top. Any other time, I'd relish in his touch. I love Jeremy… he's the only man I've ever loved! But right now, with his cell phone under his pillow and that stomach-gurgling feeling coming back, just like when I'd interrupted his shower looking for his cell phone and got that weird reaction from him… right now, I can't stop myself from recoiling away from his touch.

We may not have that weird 'connection' thing that Elena once told me she thinks she has with Stefan, but we've been together for like a decade now… without even looking at Jeremy I can tell he's weirded out by my reaction.

"Sorry Jer, I'm just, uh," I curl into an even tighter ball, hugging my knees to my chest when he comes around to his side of our bed and lays down next to me, his head on the pillow that is covering (or maybe hiding?) his phone. "I don't know… Elena really startled me, I guess."

He hesitates for a long moment with a pursed brow and lips in a slight frown before turning on his side to face me – I force myself not to move away from his hand when he rubs my arm lovingly. "It's been a long time since we've had to be scared that someone is trying to kill us, but I gotta say, when I woke up to you gasping and saw what I thought was Katherine standing there, I was pretty freaked out too."

I look at my husband for a long moment and pray that he doesn't see the way my head is spinning with hundreds of questions and the flood of possible spells I could use to find out of my bottom-of-my-gut suspicions might be right. Jeremy and I have been friends – good friends! - with Katherine and Damon for more than two years. Even with what she's done to Stefan and Elena, I honestly do not fear her at all. Not physically atleast... being a human took away her strength and speed, but not her evil ways. Still, for the life of me, I cannot figure out any reason why my 6'2 beefy husband would be frightened by the sight of tiny little Katherine in our bedroom.

While my mind runs away with itself, Jeremy's face relaxes and his heavy hand slowly slips down my arm, resting on the mattress – right against my stomach. Again, I shrink away... turning away from Jeremy with my now wide awake eyes and wide awake mind and fully constricted tummy. I don't know how long I lay there – stiff as a board – doing all I can do to discredit my fears about Jeremy. I think of Anna. I think of Vicki. I think of the late hours Jeremy has been working and I think of how strange he has been acting lately. I could spell it out of him. The same one I used on Damon while visiting Elena and Stefan, and the same one that basically violated Stefan, an innocent man...
I begin to feel a little hopeless, scared and unsure of what to do about these suspicions, but then my cell lights up again and this time, I don't hesitate.

It's Damon. My friend. I can talk to him about this, he'll listen...

Damon: Hang on. Kat's pissed off. – Reads his first message from more than half an hour ago.
Damon: I'm back. She's stormed off and I'm too tired to chase after her. It's your turn to do a word, B.

I should say something about how I am sorry they're fighting or make a joke about it, but I'm lost in my problems.

Bonnie: I need your help... how do you feel about tailing Jeremy?

-Stefan-

To: Stefan Salvatore
From: K. Mikaelson
Date: April 13th, 22:51
Subject: (no subject)

Hello, my friend,
Hope all is well. Thank you again for taking care of my Caroline and Mataeus while I'm away. I must say, you're quite good at lying, Stefan... you are getting better with practice – and age. While our belongings wait for me in storage, I've been quite successful in locating information regarding your little one. Needless to say, the chance of my young son being adorned with such gifts has crossed my mind, so don't thank me too much. It's not as selfless at it seems. Besides, I did very little of the footwork – it's good to be the Alpha, Stefan.

I've attached some of the most relevant records found at the Vatican, of which I've had translated from the original Slavic text for your less cultured eyes. As you'll see, it appears as though Allie does not fit into any single category of supernatural being or demigod, but may possibly be a fusion of many - thus of solitary existence.

Read over what I've attached and I'll bring back the rest of what I've uncovered. I've set Caroline up with the expectation that I'll be back in your horrid little town by the end of the week. Do continue to maintain our original story. Though I'm finished with what I can here in Rome, I have a few errands of my own side project to complete before returning.

Additionally, I suggest that you contact your little witch. Repressing Alexia's gifts is the worst thing you can do and she'll need someone around who can show her the ropes, if you will. Sure, you're first thought is Bonnie. But honestly Stefan, she's a wrecking machine of a witch compared to your little Italian spellbinder.

Consider it.

Afterall, my error rate when forming plans, diabolical or no, is quite a bit lower than yours, my friend.

I'll be in touch,
K

If there is one thing about Klaus that has not changed, it's his ego. I read his email twice in order to truly absorb his pompous vernacular before double-clicking the first of five attachments. Either my connection was slow or the size of the file is quite large, because the progress bar moved so slowly that I stared at it for a long moment before realizing that my laptop hadn't frozen all together. The slightest increase told me that it would be a long while before it loaded and I decided to shower in the mean time.

Intrigued to see what Klaus had found – both excited and fearful – I don't linger long. Quickly washing my hair and face, running a handful of soapy bodywash over myself, skipping a shave. Other than dinner with Elena, Robert, and Pepper, and the quick stop off route after picking up the kids, I've done very little today and don't plan on doing anything worth a hairless face tomorrow. Elena will be by early to pick up Allie and Grayson, and I should probably get with Robert before they head out of town, as well as check in on Caroline – her text from earlier in the night said that her mother was hardly around and I could tell that Caroline was feeling somewhat ignored by her. Possibly even getting a bit of cabin fever.

Maybe I'll take her out to lunch. I look at my own eyes in the steamed mirror and feel a sarcastic laugh stick in my throat – Allie is asleep on my bed and I'm being as silent as one can be without the light-foot ways of a vampire.
To be safe, I'd better make lunch a group thing.

There is a hair-thin line between Elena and Caroline that I've not had to dance on just yet. It's never been this way really – Elena and I in the same place as Caroline... not since they were in high school. Since, it's always been me and Elena, or me and Caroline. Never the three of us trying to sort out a workable relationship for an extended period of time. Truth be told, that microscopic line is one of the many reasons that I have never been a proponent of Elena and I moving our family back here.

Where Elena sees history and memories, I see possible problems. Elena pictures things differently than I do – just like with the reunion in Thailand.

Elena can honestly see the whole of us finding a way to be happy and together and forming a family unit made up of us misfits and orphans, while I hop from one landmine to another and do my very best to not trip on the wire between my wife and my best friend, my best friend and her husband, her husband and my brother, my brother and my brother-in-law, my brother-in-law and my ex-girlfriend, and of course, the atom bomb that is Elena vs. Katherine. Throw in my supernatural daughter, the child growing in Katherine's womb, and my vast and dark history in Mystic Falls, and I hope you can see why I've never been particularly fond of the idea of us coming back here.

Settling here. Making our lives here.

I know what you're thinking – then why buy the old Gilbert house?

Elena and our children are my only reason for any and everything that I do. Making that house her home is not only what she wanted, but I need to know that whatever happens after this DNA test, Elena will be safe. Anymore, the only thing that is lingering in the dark to hurt her is... well, me. What I've done. When the test results come back, given the 50/50 chance that I am the father and the 100% certainty that I have regarding Elena's reaction should it be confirmed the baby is mine, atleast I'll know that I gave her the home and the life that she wanted. I'll know that she'll have Bonnie and Jeremy around, that Allie and Grayson will be surrounded by people that love them and they'll grow up in this wholesome little town and live the same kind of childhood that Elena and Jeremy did. That I did, nearly two centuries ago.

I don't know how long I stand there, looking at nothing and looking directly into my own eyes at the same time, talking to myself in silence, but I shiver from the cool air against my body – pulling me back into a more cognizant state of mind just in time to hear the clinking of glass coming from the kitchen.

It's a natural reaction to move quickly and quietly past Allie – asleep and wrapped up snugly in her blanket on top of my bed – and into the short hallway that leads to the living and kitchen area. With my back just grazing the sheetrock wall behind me and one hand fisted at my side and the other holding the towel around my waste, I lean away from the door frame to peek into the kitchen and nearly curse outloud when I see her looking directly at me with that knowing smile on her face – all cherry red lips and snow white teeth and black-lined black eyes.

"Mmm, Stefan," Katherine purrs my name like she does, leaning over to the side to see me better and unabashedly looking over my body. "Single life looks great on you."

"What are you..." I'm undressed. It's well past midnight. Katherine is in my apartment. Atom bomb. Atom bomb. Without finishing my question, I leave her in the kitchen and go back to my bedroom – pulling on a white, sleeveless, undershirt, and because they were laying conveniently on the arm chair next to my bed with the belt still laced through the loops, the slacks I wore to dinner.

When I see her again, Katherine is sitting on the counter top next to the sink – bare legs crossed, loose curls hanging haphazardly down her shoulders, and a glass of red wine in her hand. From the short summer dress and full face of makeup, to the flagrant sound of her voice, I know that the normal, possibly even sweet, woman who kept Allie and Grayson has been replaced by this conceited and arrogant narcissist - typical Katherine. Other than a quick glance to see where she is and what she's doing, I don't look at her. Atom bomb. Instead, I head directly to the door and unlock it. Either she climbed in through a window or she somehow bypassed the deadbolt and chain on the door and actually locked them back once inside – brazen.

"You need to go." I deadpan. She doesn't move. Not even a centimeter. Maybe her pupils get smaller – focusing in on my eyes. "Now."

Staring at me a moment longer, she gives up on the glare-down and tosses her curls back with an exasperated sigh, sitting the full wine glass at her side before clasping her hands together in her lap. "Or...?" She challenges with a flirtatious raise of her eyebrows.

I could leave her here. Except Allie and Grayson are with me tonight and this Katherine cannot be trusted to keep a turtle out of trouble, much less two children. I could forcefully remove her – Atom bomb. Too many memories of too many vivid dreams and a much too close encounter with Elena from earlier in the night have got me wound tightly – the last thing I need is to have to touch such a close resemblance of my wife, especially when said resemblance has that look on her face. Mischievous. Playful. Dangerous.

I cant think of a suitable response and change the subject instead.

"Wine, Katherine?" I frown my best disparaging frown. "You're pregnant."

With a roll of her eyes she dismisses my chastising, nodding towards the full glass. "Not for me, Stefan." I stare at her for a moment, confused and wondering if there is someone else in my apartment. "I poured it for you." I nearly tell her I don't want it. To leave. To not come back. But she continues, "I need someone to talk to, I guess, and really..." I swear, that facade of hers cracks a little, for a slight second, she's real. "you're my only friend in this entire world."

"I'm not your friend." It has to be said. I've never been keen on hurting anyone, but Katherine has destroyed my life before and may very well have done it again... call it what you will, cruel, mean, whatever – Katherine and I may understand each other, but we are by no means on good terms.

Friends? No.

Funny, she doesn't argue. She knows it's true.

Instead, she shrugs it off – unharmed by my blatant honesty. "I can trust you. That's all that matters." When she looks into my eyes again, I close the door. I understand Katherine when she's being real and there is a sadness in her eyes that I see in my own. Maybe I'm secretly hoping she'll confess the real identity of the father of her child. Or maybe I am more sympathetic to her than I should be. "I think Damon is cheating on me..." She looks down, pausing before finishing to swallow or breathe or simply for dramatic punctuation – I don't know – but I've completed her sentence in my head before she says, "... with Bonnie."

My intuition speaks before I can hold it in, "No, Damon's a lot of things, but he'd never cheat."

Katherine and I contemplate that for a long moment – it's true. Damon can be the worst of the worst, but when it comes to loyalty to the woman he loves, he'd end things before sneaking around. It's just not him.

"Maybe..." Katherine moves to her feet, taking the wine glass in her hand and then walking to me – arm extended, "but if not physically, there is something going on between them."

I take the wine for no other reason than to eliminate her excuse for staying this close and to buy some time for me think of a more sensitive response than pointing out that she slept with Jeremy. I gulp it down, bitter and tart after brushing my teeth – she watches my face grimace from the taste as she sits back into the off white couch that came with the apartment.

When I open my mouth, I grimace again when I hear myself say, "You slept with Jeremy. You might be having his child... hard to feel sorry for you on this one, Katherine." So much for a more delicate response.

"Ugh." Katherine groans, absentmindedly rubbing the small bump that is now her stomach. "The thing with Jeremy was nothing more than mechanics. There were no feelings involved with him... and now it's ju-"

"Now?" I ask, loudly – shocked. Really taken aback to hear what I think I'm hearing. "You mean to tell me this 'mechanics' thing with Jeremy is still going on and you're somehow offended that Damon may or may not be involved with Bonnie in some way?" With wide eyes and pursed lips, Katherine nods a 'yes' and I can't help but laugh at the audacity of this woman. "You're unbelievable..." I half chuckle, leaning against the door.

"I did what I had to do to get Damon and I a child of our own..." Katherine's voice is light, as if she's discussing the purchase of a new car or maybe lunch, not her single-handed demise of not only my marriage, but maybe Jeremy and Bonnie's too. "Now, I've got to play it out and let it end naturally in order to keep Jeremy from ratting me out to Damon." The look on my face must tell her how sickened I am to hear that Katherine and Jeremy are still sleeping together while my brother is in the dark about the entire mess. "Don't worry, Stef... it's on the downhill slide, but it's a delicate situation."

"It's got to stop, Katherine." She's never listened to anything anyone has ever ordered her to, but I use my most confident tone as if she might actually take me seriously.

Giving a soft shake of her head and that pretentious smile that she has – like my warning is nothing more serious than a puppy and his attempt at a ferocious bark – Katherine chuckles and stands, a silent laugh on her face when she moves to examine the book shelf across from the couch. "Oh come on, Stefan, you know how those Gilbert's can be much too sensitive." I look down at my feet when she bends at the waist to view a low shelf. After a long moment, her little giggle at my looking away and the sound of Pete Yorn draw my eyes up. She turns it down to a quiet, background level, then extends her hand to me – her fingers motioning for me to come to her.

"Dance with me." So teasingly sweet is her whispered voice that I can literally taste her words. Only, it sickens me. It makes my stomach churn that she's here, that she's trying this with me, that she somehow believes I might actually want this. It sickens me in the way one might get nauseated by too much perfume or a mouthful of syrup. Sweetness turns to repulsion when it's overdone.

I feel my brow wrinkle and lower, "Katherine."

She shrugs and stops the slow sway of her hips to the upbeat song, letting her hands rest on her waist, "Fine, Stefan… I'm just trying to have a little fun, you know. We could both use it, don't you think?"

"I'm tired, Katherine… I could use a good night's rest." I gesture for her to leave, but she kicks back on the couch again, this time leaning into the arm in order to face me, still at the door.

Mockingly scrunching up her nose and snarling her red lips – a look I find terribly cute on Elena yet incredibly off-putting when on Katherine's face – she asks, "Oh no, did the make it all better dinner with Elena not go as well as you'd hoped?" I don't answer because to tell you the truth, I'm not sure how the dinner went or where Elena and I stand. In my hesitation, Katherine dramatically looks around the dimly lit room and then covers her smiling mouth with both hands, "I guess I should have picked that up, seeing as how you are here and Elena… is, well… not!"

"We're working on it, Katherine." I hate that I feel the need to explain myself, my situation with Elena, but I do. "What we did… it's alot to ask anyone to forgive."

"Hmm…" Turning to her side, resting her head on her hand, Katherine stretches her body out for me to look over. I wonder if she notices the general disinterest I have for her, because I do. I can't tell you how good it feels to not feel anything about her laying out on my couch this way – with lyrics of love and heartache and desire floating between us – I honestly feel absolutely nothing. I'm smiling (on the inside) with pride when Katherine purrs, "so now it's 'what we did'… I like that, Stefan. 'We'."

"Come on," I turn and unlock the door, pulling it open before looking back at her. "It's late and I'm tired."We stare at each other for a long moment – I guess I'm more committed to my 'time to go' than she is her flirting because she sits up and starts towards the door with a near-stomping gate.

When she stops in the threshold, I consider closing the door to push her into the hall… after she speaks, I wish I would have done just that. "You know, she's never going to love you like she used to." A knot in my stomach tightens to such a painful degree that I almost wince – even whispered, the truth actually hurts, doesn't it? "And maybe it's crazy of me to even consider, but we could leave… together…" And there's that sadness in her eyes again, that authentic bit of the girl that should have been able to keep the child she gave birth to five hundred years ago. The girl that used to believe in love and fate and happily ever after like every other little girl does before the scars of growing up jade them into being adults. "You and me, and our baby, Stefan… aren't you tired of being alone?"

I mean to ask a full sentence – And what about Damon? How can you even consider doing this to him? – but it comes from my lips in a strained, "…and Damon?"

Leaning back, resting against the door frame, she appears to be somewhat morose. Sad, even. The thing is, I never know if Katherine is acting this way or that because it's part of the role she is playing at the moment or if maybe, possibly, she's not putting on. "Damon thinks I'm carrying his child and he's falling out of love with me and in love with Bonnie Bennett… what do you think'll happen when… when you tell him the truth?"

I don't answer. Instead I look away, focusing on the blue-green LED '2:12am' on the microwave and imagining the rage of destruction even a human Damon can deliver when he's set off. We're both quiet, thinking probably the same thing, and she's isn't really looking for a response – we both know the answer to that question. When she reaches out to touch my hand on the door knob, I pull it away before contact and look at her face again – I swear I see a hint of fear in those cold, black eyes, "You are going to tell him, aren't you?"

The knot in my stomach somehow tightens even more as I nod 'yes'.

Katherine's eyes move up and down my face a few times, quickly looking into my right eye, then my left and back again. "I don't believe you," She mocks confidence so well, but somehow, tonight – with this specific topic – I can see straight through her. "I mean, why wouldn't you have already confessed if you were really going to do it at all?"

Good question - I begin to speak before my mind conceives an answer. "I have to know what I'm confessing to, Katherine." Her eyes squint just the slightest and I wonder if that's a sign of her taking me at my word. "I can't just walk up to him and bring him into this mess of 'what if's and 'might's and 'could be's. After... when I know if what you claim is true, that's when I'll tell him."

A quick smirk and a hard swallow is followed by what I assume is supposed to be a threat, "He's going to kill you, Stefan."

I nod.

"I know…", but what can I do? I'll take what's coming to me, whatever that might be.

"Then let's runaway, Stefan." I don't see it coming in order to move – her hands fisting in the fabric of my shirt, just at my ribs, and stepping close. "What you had with Elena, it's ruined. Same with me and Damon!" Katherine's voice isn't quite as cool and collected – more panicky, peering up at me with those large round eyes, almost too big for her slender face. "And Allie and Grayson, they're going to know what you did and they won't want anything to do with you anymore… come away with me. I can make you happy, Stefan – I did once, remember? Remember when I was all you wanted?" I put my hands over hers and that sickening feeling is getting worse and worse with the ever-tightening knot in my gut, "We can leave tomorrow and make a life somewhere else – start all over. We can be anyone we want! We don't have to be alone, Stefan."

Her manic smile is unnatural – creepy even – and it only gets worse when I close my fingers over her little fists and remove her hands from my body, pushing her back to get some distance between us.

"Stop." I say through my teeth, getting tired of this game she thinks we're playing – my life, it's always been some kind of a pastime for her amusement!

Her hands slip from mine and take hold of my face. It takes all the control I have to not shove her away from me, into the hallway, shutting the door behind her. "Come with me, Stefan… I'm all you have left."

"Katherine." I say her name with a heavy exhale, take a beat to remind myself that she's not a vampire and I'm much stronger than her now. Taking hold of her dainty wrists and removing her clammy hands from my face. "You might be right. I've probably lost everything," Still holding her wrists, I step forward and force her step back into the hall – releasing my grip once she's completely out of my apartment and my body is blocking the entrance. "But I'm not afraid to be alone. I don't care to surround myself with people to fend off loneliness." She huffs, rolling her eyes. "The only thing I'm scared of is having to live even a single day without Elena, without our children, so please, stop all of this flirting and touching – because it means nothing to me, nothing at all. I don't love you, Katherine. I've never loved you."

"Never?" Katherine's voice is brimming with accusation; one word said in such a way that she speaks an entire message – replays months of memories that we share from 1864.

I've denied it – since the day I woke up next to Damon on the banks of Wickery River, I've denied ever believing I loved Katherine Pierce. I'm tired of lying, and truth be told, it doesn't matter now. "You're right, Katherine." There's a spark in her eyes, some kind of ardent pride or satisfaction flaming in her dark orbs. "Back then, before I knew you... even after I turned and believed you'd been burned alive, for years and years, I thought I loved you." The boastful look on her face fades, "I hid it with hate, I denied it to anyone who asked because I was ashamed to have failed at saving you, because I was humiliated to have been just another betrayal for the infamous Katherine Pierce." Attempting that faux-confidence once again, Katherine shakes her curls from her shoulders as she stands tall and presses her lips tightly, but there are sparkling tears in her eyes that she cannot hide. "I thought I loved you, Katherine... I thought you were everything I wanted... but then I died. And I woke up a vampire and lived this curse that you gave to me for a hundred and fifty years!" I'm straining to keep from raising my voice, my hands open in front of me. "For a hundred and fifty years I both hated and loved you in equal measure for what you'd done to me and to Damon. For turning me into a monster!" I stop, inhale deeply through my nose with my eyes closed and I picture her face and her beautiful smile and the way she warms me through and through – Elena, my wife, my everything. "But then, I met Elena. I met her and fell in love with her and I knew – I knew it then – that I'd never loved you... and I stopped hating you." Katherine smirks, swallowing hard and casually wiping her teary eyes. "How could I hate you? What I thought was a curse, a never ending plague, it was really a gift. You gave me the immortality that led to her," I smile. With thoughts of Elena running through my blood, I can't stop the smile no matter how insensitive it might be in this moment. "And Elena, she gave me life."

-Elena-

My first thought – yea, it's jealousy. And anger.

It's after two am! What is Katherine doing here!? Dressed like that!

There is something about the way she walks, the speed of her steps – I think I recognized the pace of her high-heeled boots clacking down the stairs as I made my way up, but it's so late and out of place that I didn't realize I recognized it. But her voice – much like mine, but with a deeper tone and slower roll of her tongue – the instant I heard it, I knew it was her before I even looked up.

"Don't worry, Elena, he's all yours."

I was smiling – excited to share my writing with Stefan, to talk to him about our future and, I don't know, I just wanted to be with him – when I caught her in my gaze, coming around the corner. Looking up at her like this, her round stomach is all I can focus on for a long moment, delaying my response.

"Oh, what do you have there?" She flicks her fingernail down the stack of paper – probably more than a ream, "Is that your list of things you want from Stefan? Ways he should change? Must-have's and to-do's in order to get a second chance?" A small pause and a dramatic look up as she pretends to be thinking, "or is this a third chance for Steffy? Forth, maybe?"

Finally able to tear my eyes from her stomach, the redness in her usually perfectly white eyes keeps me from matching her tone. I move past her, shrugging a "It's none of your business, Katherine."

"Isn't it?" Katherine cocks her hip out the side, leaning against the handrail and looking up at me as she gently grazes the round bump – her baby. "I mean, he is the father of my child. Yet another thing we share, Elena."

I stop.

I wish I could keep going, ignore what she said, leave her standing in the stairwell believing that she doesn't get to me anymore... but the truth is, every time I hear her say that – that Stefan is the father – my bones nearly crumble into dust. Of all the people in the entire world that I don't want to lose – that I don't want to share – it's Stefan.

I hear her giggle a little at my reaction, the way I freeze in place and have to take a heavy inhale in order to move at all. "We can have playdates." She teases, starting down the stairs.

Again, she's beat me. She's won. How many times have Katherine and I come up against one another only to find myself defeated by this woman. What happened to Elena 2.0 – Elena Freakin' Salvatore?!

"Hey!" It's an honest to God shout – loud and bouncing off the cinder block walls of the stairwell.

Surprised, Katherine turns up to look at me in a quicker than usual movement – eyes wide and brow raised as if to say, 'what?'

"You're absolutely right, Katherine. No matter how much I would love to get rid of you, it looks like you're going to be in our lives for the long run whether the baby is Stefan's or Damon's." Katherine smiles her smile – like a snake with a stomach full of prey. "So, I say we make the best of it."

She chuckles out, "And how do you suggest we do that?"

Everything in me is telling me not to do this. Maybe take my shoe off and throw it at her face! Anything but this! Don't do it! But I know that my animosity towards Katherine will only make Stefan's already complicated life even more difficult, so I swallow the nasty words I want to call her and smile instead of spitting on her and say, "I'd like to throw you a baby shower."

Maybe it's the overwhelming and complete surprise of my offer that paralyzes Katherine, or maybe it's the huge smile on my face, but I tell a silent Katherine goodnight and turn away – taking the last set of stairs two at a time, burning with the joy of being a good person and taking the high road... something I forgot felt so great!

-Stefan-

"Gia, hey, it's me, Stefan," I can't tell you how much I hate bringing Gia into yet another situation... I mean, she's just a girl. Barely eighteen! And how many times have I had to call upon her? Use our friendship as a bargaining pawn? When the call went to voice mail, I was honestly relieved that I wouldn't have to speak to her directly. "I've forwarded you an email from, uh, well, from Klaus Mikaelson." By nature, witches hate vampires – a hybrid Original, well that's a whole other problem. "There are some attachments that I'd like you to take a look at. Just see if anything makes sense to you or, raises a red flag at all. I hate asking you for your help, you've done so much for my family as it is, but it's about Allie and, I don't have anyone else to turn to." It hits me that I used that same line when convincing her sister to help me trap Klaus many years ago – I want to throw up at the image of Lindsey's body – naked and drained of blood, blood on my hands. "Anyway, I'm sorry to drag you into this and if you don't want anything to do with it, I understand. Completely. Just give me a call when you can." A knock at the door catches my attention and I pause a moment before adding, "Hope you're classes are going well, let me know if you need anything... at all."

Knowing Katherine is on the other side of the door turned my normal tone into a gritty voice and I hope it didn't make me sound insincere with my offer. Elena and I have been taking care of Gia's needs for a few years – since Lindsey died. I'd hate it if Gia believed that our love for her was somehow connected to the help that she always seems to be position of offering. Just the thought that Katherine's return might have caused such doubt in a girl as sweet and caring as Gia pisses me off and I pull the door open quickly, angry with her.

But inplace of cold-black eyes are clear, chocolate brown, endless eyes.

Instead of a cherry red mouth is the sweetest set of lips, shining from the mocha-rasberry lipgloss that I've always loved tasting on my tongue.

It's instantanious. The way my body lets go of the anger I had ready for Katherine and is overpowered by the pure joy of being this close to Elena – smiling that shy smile, looking up at me through her soft lashes – our gravity simmering in my blood.

"Hey." I sigh through the smile that comes to my face.

"Hey." Elena returns.

I stand there too long, just looking at her – taking her in and absorbing the way it feels to love her. When she looks away from my gaze, holding back a smile because she knows the affect she has on me, I fear I might actually be blushing when I step back and open the door for her. Laughing a, "Come in. Sorry."

Taking a moment to look around, I continue to look at her – down to end of her hair, I love her. As her eyes move across the apartment, my eyes move across her and I'm stuck between the strong desire to wrap myself around her and the more appropriate option of not sucking that light coat of gloss right off of her lips.

"Wine and music," Elena teases, gesturing to the empty glass of wine on the counter. "Katherine goes right for the goal, doesn't she?"

Damn it. I feel guilty for not telling her – and even though Elena seems light-hearted about it, I try to explain. "Nothing happened, she came over to ta-"

She doesn't interrupt me with words, but the sweet way she looks at me and the spark of her hand taking mine, it cuts me off mid-sentence.

"Stefan."I look down at her hand holding mine – so small to be so powerful. "I know. It's okay. I trust you."

That want to wrap around her, merge my body into hers, it's hard to resist when I hear nothing but honesty in her words and feel love in her touch. I look into her eyes – clear and endless – and at her lips intermittently for a long moment.

Releasing my hand, much to my disappointment, Elena moves further into my apartment, sitting the large stack of paper she was carrying next to my open, but dormant laptop, then sits against the edge of one of the barstools. "Did Grayson give you trouble about going to sleep?"

I shake my head no and, for no other reason to be closer to her, to feel our frequency better, I follow her into the kitchen and lean against the counter top across from her – crossing my arms over my chest to keep them from pulling her against me. No matter what I want, I know that I've got to let Elena direct where this goes.

"Is that your 'fictional, non-fiction, semi-biographical, slash-self help thing'?" Quoting her from dinner and feeling like a champion gladiator when Elena laughs and nods yes.

I don't realize I'm doing it – shaking my head in disbelief at how much I love to hear the sound of her laughter – and when she asks me "What?", it takes a moment for me to understand what she's inquiring about.

"Your laugh." I shrug with a smile, basking in every thing about her.

My response turns her laugh into a giggle when she asks, "My laugh?", with a playful scrunching of her nose and her long, chestnut hair falling to one side of her face, framing it in darkness while the other half glows from the chandelier light above us. I just nod 'yes', taking hold of my elbows for extra security in keeping my arms from her. "What's wrong with my laugh?"

The thing about Elena – that always been about Elena – is that I can't stop myself from being brutally honest with her about everything. From the way I feel about her to my darkest regrets, when she asks I tell and I spill everything out for her to examine. It some cases, that honesty has been a hindrance. But mostly, it's paid off in spades.

"Nothing, Elena." I run my hand through my hair instead of grazing it down the length of hers, "Your laugh is like poetry."

The laughing stops, but her smile grows wide on her flushed face and the way she continues to look in my eyes even as she blushes, it burns in me – deep down in my torso.

"How do you do that, Stefan?" As she stands, stepping infront of me, I feel my brow lower, tension rising in my shoulders and neck as I fear that she thinks I've just delivered her some meaningless line. With me leaning back and her standing tall, Elena and I looking directly into one anothers eyes, she says in a barely there whisper, "How do you make me feel like this?"

At the touch of her fingers against my upper arms, I close my eyes and inhale the scent of her shampoo and the warmth of her body. I feel her lips press against my shoulder and her hair graze against my forearms – tickling my skin and sending fire through my veins. Moving to the other shoulder, I feel her mouth form the words against my chest, "You remember every word I say." When she kisses me again, on the opposite shoulder, I feel her teeth against my skin, gently sucked in between her lips and I don't know how much longer I can hold back. My fingers are tingling to pressing into the flesh of her hips, my tongue thirsty for her taste. "I love the way you love me" Elena grazes the words against the curve of my neck, kissing my jawbone – our gravity turning my face, pulling my mouth to hers.

She tastes pure and sweet – clean, like mint and springtime. Its just a small kiss, my lips enveloping her full bottom lip, gently pulling it into my mouth, but it's enough to steal the breath from my lungs, to cause her chin to quiver.

"I love you, Stefan." In an effort to stop the sparking nerves of my bottom lip, I'm pressing my teeth into it, relishing in the warmth of her hands holding my face. "No matter what happens. Whether you forgive me for being so cruel, the results of the DNA test... whatever may come at us, Stefan. I need you to know that I love you." Giving in to the ache to touch her, I let my hands loose and they find their favorite spot on her body – one hidden in her hair, fingers around the back of her neck and thumb grazing her cheek, the other resting low on her waist, her heartbeat palpable on all ten of my fingertips. She kisses me again – half on my upper lip, half on my teeth – then says my name in a way that pulls my gaze up, right into her endless brown eyes that have haunted me in the most wondrous way for a decade now. "I'll never stop loving you and I'll never stop wanting to be with you. It's you and me, Stefan. Always?"

I smile. Recognizing those words from so many years before – she'd learned the worst about me, seen me for the monster I truly was... and that was was she said to me. 'It's you and me, Stefan, always.' - But this time, I hear the raising of her tone at the end – the question lingering. Am I still in this with her? Am I willing to try again.

I might regret it – who knows – but I don't even give it a single thought. "Always." I say through a kiss, between the spaces of my lips and her lips and my tongue and her tongue. I'll ways be hers. Nothing can change the way I love her.

As we kiss, we move – from the counter to the bar. Our kisses are slow – savoring the moment, washing in our frequency.

From the bar to the hallway – Our kisses are quicker, more wanting, desperate. Stopping against the wall, my body pressing against hers with her fingers in my hair and my hands griping the back of her thighs, finally lifting her legs around me. Wrapped in her as I always long to be. I've pulled her tee shirt off, my hands and my mouth finding the soft, warm skin of her breasts when she groans my name... then, "stop."

Maybe it's like this for all men – but when I hear her tell to me stop, it's equal to cold water or an electric shock. I'm three feet away, my back against the opposite wall of the hallway in a fraction of a second – shaking from wanting her so badly and crushed from the last minute rejection.

"No, no, no, Stefan." Elena whispers through an amused smile, her lips red and swollen from our kisses, closing the distance between us and wrapping her arms around my waist. I'm stone-still, afraid to touch her. "We can't – not here." I'm confused for a moment. "Allie and Grayson." She giggles quietly against my ear, sending relief through my entire body and giving my arms the green light to hold her.

We spend a few hours talking – about nothing important. Caroline and Klaus' wedding, Allie's dance class teacher, Grayson's love of salsa... run of the mill, married couple conversations that I'd been missing for so many months without even realizing it. By dawn, we're nearly asleep – me on my back, one leg on the couch and the other bent with my foot on the floor, with Elena laying on her side between my legs. Her head is on my shoulder and I'm holding her close with my arm wrapped around her and the other holding her hand on my chest.

I can feel myself falling into a deep sleep – the kind that is rare and precious, without dreams and completely and utterly tranquil. I love the way her hair feels cool against my skin, how every time I inhale I can smell her shampoo. I can still taste her kiss and feel her heart beating against me. I'm stunned to stillness with this content happiness – like I've fallen in love with her all over again for the hundredth time.

I can't, and don't want to move a single muscle! Even my lips feel paralyzed.

Just before I fall into a state of unconsciousness, Elena nuzzles against me – her warm breath exhaling through the cotton of my shirt and I hear her sleep ridden, raspy voice say, "I love you." I want to respond. Tell her I love her. That she owns me, but as I said, I can't move... only when she rubs her nose and lips against the spot directly above my heart and says against my skin, "Even this isn't close enough to you." do I move – an involuntary, lazy smile curves onto my lips as I fall asleep holding my wife.

***MORE TO COME***

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Please, please, PLEASE comment – it's been awhile since I've posted and I don't know if anyone is even still interested in this story at all. It takes a lot of effort to make decent fanfic and I'd hate to continue if no one is following. With that said, I'll do my VERY best to post more often. Half of CH.27 is ready, so it shouldn't be too long before I do another chapter posting.

Thanks for reading :)

PS – Stelena Always (lol)