Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries, which means I'll likely NEVER get to see any of this stuff happen. Boo hiss!
A/N: I'm really sorry about the delay. Another snowstorm. REALLY WITH THIS? Ugh. But, we're almost to the new TVD! YAY! And also, WAH! Because that means we'll be reminded that the possibility of Damon and Elena is still probably a long ways away. *sigh*
As for the world inside this fic…well, I think there will be a quicker payoff. ;-)
Enjoy, and if you can review, please do. There is actually an epilogue I'm considering posting with the final chapter (or within a day of it) but I'm looking for a TVD-verse location for the setting. I know what will happen, but not where. So, inspire me with someplace cool if you've got ideas. :-)
And even if you don't have an idea, review if you can. I love them like Woah! As embarrassing as it is, I *just* figured out how to reply to reviews (yes, I'm that much of a loser that it took me this long), so I'm going to see if I can do that on this next chapter. You all are just fantastic and I'm really looking forward to thanking you personally. This fic would have gone by the wayside long ago if it weren't for all of you. The whole thing is really because of your kindness, so… *HUGS* Yeah, you all rock so hard.
This chapter is busy. Not my fave, but if I fiddle any more you all are going to think I've abandoned it.
The screaming has stopped, but I like the silence even less. Now I can only hear the ripping hiss of the flames, and that's worse.
Much worse.
I am still tucked behind Damon when Stefan bursts in. His eyes dart once to us, a split second of awareness before he's rushing to the window. The blazing figure outside is stumbling to his knees.
It's like watching a nightmare.
Then the room explodes with activity. Everyone parades in. They're all talking at once, in shrill frightened voices. I can't hear what they're saying. I can't even look at them.
My eyes are riveted to the intruder. The one who's now rolling in the grass, curling in on himself.
I think of the way it feels when I bump my neck with a curling iron. Just one little touch and it hurts for days. I watch him burn and think of that pain. It's enough to twist my insides into ugly knots.
Watching someone die is one thing. Watching someone burn? No. No, I can't do this. I can't do this knowing I'm the reason he's burning.
"Put him out," I say softly.
No one hears me. Everyone is rushing, arguing. Everyone is waiting on the vampire outside to die.
"Put him out!" I say.
And then the fire is gone, leaving its victim face-down in the grass.
He's dead. He has to be dead. No one could live through that.
Stefan turns to Bonnie, his face pinched. "Did you do that?"
She throws up her hands, shaking her head. "No. I didn't do a thing."
Outside, the body sits up. There's something familiar about the motion, or maybe about the silhouette of his hair and the shape of his face.
Oh, shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
"Tell me that's not Elijah," Stefan says, phrasing my thoughts more coherently.
"That's Elijah?" Caroline says, moving towards the window for a better view. "We flambéd Elijah?"
"Well, we tried," Damon says, turning to Bonnie. "Got any more rabbits in your hat, Bullwinkle?"
Elijah stumbles to his feet. He's totally untouched. Not a hair out of place. It's like the fire didn't even graze him.
"Why isn't he burned?" Jeremy asks.
"Why isn't he dead?" Tyler asks.
Bonnie's trying something, but it's not working. She drops her hands, panting, sagging into my brother for support. "I can't do anything. I think someone's out there. Blocking me."
"Well, don't give me all the good news at once," Damon says, sounding almost bored. The way he keeps himself between me and that window tells me he's anything but.
"Staking him won't work," Stefan says, moving shoulder to shoulder with Damon. "Fire either."
"I don't like our odds," Damon says, then he looks over his shoulder at Caroline. "Get your dog out of here. Now."
"You want me to run?" Tyler asks, looking snarly. "Like hell!"
Stefan turns to him, "They need a werewolf, a doppelganger, and a vampire to break the curse. We have all three in this room. It's not safe."
"Then send Elena," he says, pointing at me. "I can fight."
"I'm not going anywhere," I say, crossing my arms.
Damon flashes a menacing grin at Tyler. "And I won't rip her throat out for being stubborn. But what do you think your chances are, Poky Puppy?"
Tyler lunges for Damon, but Caroline grabs his arm. "No, he's right. We need to go."
They are just out of the room when Elijah arrives at the window. It slides open, though I'm sure he didn't touch it. I don't like this. I don't like any of this.
"Don't look at him. He can compel vampires," I remind them.
"You're a bright girl," Elijah says, "but if I'd meant to compel them I could have done that ages ago."
"What do you want?" Stefan asks.
"Civility to start," he says, brushing imaginary lint off his jacket sleeve. He doesn't move to come inside. "I told Elena I would keep you all safe and you know very well I'm a man of my word."
"You're an insurance salesman," Damon scoffs, affecting a smooth drawl that's not a bad impersonation. "Sign here, Miss Elena. Never you mind that fine print about selling your soul."
Elijah smirks at that. "You are every bit as reckless as advertised, aren't you?"
"How did that fire not hurt you?" Stefan asks.
"I have special friends, too," Elijah says, tipping his head to Bonnie. "We have all sorts of special tricks."
"As fascinating as it is to watch you pet your own ego, we've got things to do. Vampires to kill," Damon says, as if he's going to turn and walk away.
Elijah laughs. It's a chilling sound. "Ignorant little boy. You can't kill Klaus. You can't even kill me."
"We have a plan," Stefan says, wearing his best I-mean-business face.
"Your little arrangement with Katherine?" Elijah asks and my blood runs cold. "Tell me, did you really think she was stupid enough to give you her blood?"
Stefan lifts his chin, to his credit, looking unfazed. "To get out of that tomb, I think Katherine would do anything."
Elijah smirks and then she's there, dressed in dark jeans and a black shirt. She looks like me. Even more so than usual. And she's got something with her. Two somethings.
Alaric and Jenna.
"Jenna!" Jeremy shouts, and it takes Bonnie and I both to pull him back from the window.
"Let her go!" I shout over his shoulder. Damon pushes his way in front of our group, but I squirm out, lunging for the window. Stefan hauls me back, but I scream at Elijah anyway. "You swore you'd protect them!"
"And I've kept my word," Elijah says. "It's time for you to keep yours."
I struggle until Stefan leans close, speaking softly. "Stop before he hurts them."
He's right and for once, I listen.
Alaric and Jenna are bound and gagged, but otherwise unharmed. Jenna looks more placid than I'd figure, so I'm guessing she's been compelled. It makes me hurt inside to think of her like that again, mind blank and pulled like a puppet.
"You want to take me to Klaus," I guess and Elijah tilts his head, but says nothing.
"No one's taking anyone anywhere," Stefan says, and then his eyes fall on Katherine. I see his expression change, his eyes flashing. "You. I should've known not to trust you."
"It isn't my fault," Katherine says, and I can feel the air go thick and tight between them. "I couldn't tell you I was working with him."
"No, you could have. You didn't want to, because that wouldn't serve your purpose," he says, and there's more than anger in his tone. There's hurt. Betrayal, maybe.
"Be quiet, Katherine," Elijah says.
Stefan looks tense. Conflicted. His eyes are still on her. "You lied to me. That's all you are is lies."
Her tongue is held by Elijah's command, but her face is soft. For the first time, I see one of my own expressions cross her face. Regret.
She stayed in that tomb for Stefan. To see him. I can see it now, a tangled ugly knot of emotion that she probably doesn't have a damned idea what to do with. I don't know if Stefan sees it, but he sees something.
He turns away, plowing his hands through his hair. Probably because he's too ashamed to face it.
And I get that way too well. Cheeks burning, my eyes drift to Damon, who's focused completely on Elijah.
"Tell me she'll live," Damon says, and I know who he's talking about. Everyone knows who he's talking about.
"You're welcome to come along to see," he says. "Take the night to think it over. Come morning, I'll be paying my old friend a visit. And Elena will accompany me."
"And if she doesn't come?" Stefan asks, having regained his composure.
"Then I'll kill these two and have my witch tear your house apart until I change her mind."
He walks away, taking Jenna and Alaric with a muttered command. Katherine lingers behind him, her eyes wide and fearful. She bites her lip and throws something before dashing after him. We tumble like dominoes towards the floor, but this isn't a weapon.
It's a message.
Stefan's uncurls the paper from the rock, scanning it once before handing it to me.
"What does it say?" Jeremy asks, Bonnie leaning over his shoulder.
I see the words, but can't make my mouth work. Damon reads it for me.
"He's watching the house. He'll kill you if you run," he reads, then crumples the note and adds, "Love, your BFF forever, Katherine."
"What are we going to do?" Bonnie says.
"About this?" Damon says, flinging the note to the ground. "Nothing. Katherine is a manipulative, scheming bitch. You can't play her games without becoming a pawn."
"She's probably telling the truth," Stefan says, his face like stone. "He wouldn't let us leave. It wouldn't make sense."
"So we're trapped here," Jeremy says.
"Probably not all of us," Damon says, and he's right. Elijah won't care if the rest of them leave. Just me.
"What are we going to do?" Bonnie asks.
"I don't know. We have a few hours, so that's something," Stefan says.
Damon scoffs. "Three hours to come up with a plan for us to escape Elijah, rescue Alaric and Jenna, and kill the most powerful vampire alive. Yeah Should leave me enough time to knit a scarf before we get started."
"Is everything a joke to you?" Stefan asks.
And then they're all talking again. Their voices are blurring and my throat is closing up and this is all because of me. Because of my blood.
I can't do this. I can't take it. The panic is climbing up my throat, pushing through my limbs. I feel like I'm going to explode, like all of these terrible feelings are going to rip me into millions of pieces.
"Elena?" Jeremy asks.
I turn to him, knowing my expression must be wild. I shake my head. "I need a minute."
Stefan touches my arm, "Elena, wait."
"I said I need a minute!"
And then I run like hell.
(BREAK)
Damon finds me in Rose's bathroom. I have no idea why I'm here. It's white and plain and it's the farthest room from the stairs. I feel safe here, with the dripping water and the claw-foot tub. It's not an interesting room, or large one, but it is quiet.
I want the quiet.
"Please go," I say, leaning back against the sink.
He comes in close, flipping a switch until an exhaust fan whirs to life. I open my mouth to protest, but then I get it.
He doesn't want us to be heard.
Something about this terrifies me and thrills me at once. He shuts the door and closes in on me and my pulse goes into overdrive. It echoes in my ears, a heavy drum drowning out the reality of what is waiting for me downstairs.
His hands settle on my face, his eyes searching.
"Tell me what you want to do," he says.
I could sooner recite the Gettysburg Address. In Latin. I feel too close to tears to talk, but I can see he's not going anywhere. And he's wearing a face that I'm not capable of arguing with.
I take a breath. "Elijah said—
"I don't give a damn what Elijah said. This is your life. You wanted to choose, didn't you? So, choose. Do you want to run? I can have you and Jeremy in another state in two hours."
The idea glistens in my mind, the possibility. I imagine the sun through the windshield, and the world sliding past my window while Jeremy fights with Damon over radio stations. The idea of it is bliss.
But reality snaps its teeth at the mirage. We have school. We have lives and friends and Jenna.
Oh God, Jenna.
I shake my head, swallowing hard.
"Do you want me to kill him? The first time didn't stick, but next time I'll just take off body parts until something works," he says, like this is so easy. Like we're discussing taking care of a mouse in the kitchen.
His thumbs glide along my cheekbones and I shudder under his touch. "Just tell me what you need and I will find a way."
He means it. I know Damon's dirty secret now, the thing he hides behind the sharp teeth and sharper words.
Devotion.
"Elena, tell me," he says, and God help me, I can't lie to him.
I want to. I want to pull up my socks and lift my chin and be the perfect, brave girl everybody thinks I am. I'm great at being that girl.
Unless I'm with him.
"I don't want to die," I admit, the words spilling out of me faster than I can hold them in. "I hate this. I hate all of it. I don't want to be special. I don't want to make choices or sacrifices. I don't want any of this!"
The confessions tumble from my lips, selfish and awful. And true.
And he takes it in like the hero he swears he can't be. He is looking into the darkest truths I have. And it doesn't change a thing.
"I don't want this," I say again.
"I know," he says, so soft. So damn soft that it breaks my heart.
"Please go," I say, my voice cracking. "Run. You could save yourself."
He gives me a sad smile stroking those talented fingers over my cheeks. "It's too late for that."
The weight of his words push against me like the tide, swelling constantly closer.
I am losing this fight. Inch by inch. Second by second. He is breaking me down, sliding beneath my radar with every touch and every look.
He's going to kiss me. I can read it in his eyes as if he'd painted the words in the sky. It's inevitable. I know that. But still, I shake my head. Pretend there's some way to stop it.
"Damon, we can't do this. This can't happen. Not ever."
He gives me a fierce look, one that begs to differ. "This is already happening, Elena."
He reaches past me, throwing the faucets on full blast. Water hisses into the sink and he picks me up, setting me on the edge of the counter.
The side of me that doesn't understand words like 'wrong' or 'brother' is intensely aware of my knees on either side of him. And there is no extra anything on Damon's waist. He is like skin-encased steel.
Now all those alarms I'd been waiting for start blaring. I am at the top of the rollercoaster and the track is dropping out from beneath me, my stomach flying high.
"Wait," I say. It's not much, but it's all I have left.
"I've waited long enough," Damon says, and then he leans in so close that I can feel his next words on my lips. "Have you?"
Time freezes into a crystalline moment of clarity. I could pull away right now. I could push him back and flip my hair and walk out of this bathroom the same sweet, compliant girl that walked in.
Or I could kiss Damon.
Hell, like it's even a matter of choice anymore.
I don't even know who moves. I know that his lips are against mine and that I am plunging down the hill and straight into that inevitable tide. It sucks me in and pulls me under. I don't even fight it. I just part my lips so I can taste him.
It should not feel so right. His lips should not fit so perfectly against mine. His fingers should not find that tender curve of my hips so easily. None of this should be so natural. So good.
He's making these soft, delicious sounds into my mouth, his tongue working wicked magic on me. I feel his fingers on my spine and my body shaking everywhere. I pull away for a gulp of air, but I'm not ready to end this. I'm a million miles from ready, so I palm his face and he whispers my name. And then we're kissing again.
His hand finds a sliver of skin beneath my shirt and we both hiss at the contact. Our kiss goes deeper. Greedier. My legs hook around his waist and he lets out a groan that I feel in every x-rated place I have. He moves from my lips to kiss the hollow of my throat, and I whimper, tilting my head back to give him access. I don't want him to stop. I don't ever want him to stop.
Oh, God.
I'm not going to stop him. I'm going to let him take me right here with the sink threatening to overflow down the back of my pants and the whole world waiting one floor beneath us.
"Hold on," I say, panting.
"To anything you want," he replies, and I feel his smile against my throat. It's all I can do to keep myself from giving in.
But I can't give in. I can't! God, what is wrong with me? People are hurt—maybe dying-and I'm up here getting hot and bothered?
"Damon, stop," I say, still breathless. "Elijah—
"Isn't my type," he says, tongue flicking my pulse.
I push him away, though my body is still throbbing. "I'm serious, Damon."
"So am I," he says, but his smirk is propped on an expression I've never seen him wear. He looks unbelievably young. And human.
I untangle my legs and finger comb my hair, but he stops me from scooting too far by grabbing my hand.
"Don't do it," he warns me.
"Don't do what?"
"Don't act like this was a mistake."
"What, you think this was a great way to pass the time?" I cry. "Jenna and Alaric are out there with Elijah and I'm up here making out with my ex-boyfriend's brother!" I say. "What kind of twisted person does that?"
"This one," he snaps, gesturing at himself. "But that goes without saying because I'm the psychotic vampire, right?"
"I didn't mean it like that," I say, and I didn't. I don't know what I'm saying. My head is still reeling. My body still wants to climb him like a tree. It's all a damn mess.
"Mean it however you want, Elena, but don't you dare sit here with me and pretend this was some momentary lapse of sanity for either one of us. Like I was your sick side-trip down Bad Girl Boulevard!"
He's the one who's shaking now. Pacing back and forth in this narrow little room. I slide onto my feet and try to steer clear. It's like square dancing with a lit stick of dynamite. One I desperately want to touch.
I reach for his arm and he goes still at once. The monster tames beneath my fingers, his shoulder relaxing under my hand.
"I don't know what this was," I say. "But I can't think about it right now. I can't think about anything but what I'm going to do when the sun comes up, okay?"
"And going down there will help you think?" he asks, looking incredulous.
"Well, I can't think about anything but kissing you up here!"
His anger melts into a smug smile. I want to smack it off his face. Or maybe something else. This is a disaster.
"Can you stop?" I sigh. "You look like the cat who got the canary."
"Tweet," he says, with a smirk that should be illegal in the States.
"Yeah, you're a real riot. Did you miss the whole life or death stakes we've got going on?"
"You're not going to die, Elena," he says, any trace of amusement gone. "That's not an option."
"Then help me figure this out," I say. "You've gotten out of worse, right?"
"Hell no," he scoffs, slouching against the wall. "But since I'm a regular white hat these days..."
We exchange half a smile, and I turn off the water. I don't bother checking my reflection. I can't worry about how well kissed I look right now. I just need to get down there and face the dawn. Literally.
Damon blocks me at the door, his arms crossed. "You realize that I will tie you to the hood of my car if it means saving your life?"
"You realize I will stake you in your sleep if you do anything to save me that will endanger the people I love?"
He grins at this, glancing skyward. "We are a match made in heaven, aren't we?"
We shouldn't be a match at all. But I don't say that, because I'm not sure the shouldn't's matter anymore.