Elena was no stranger to being bitten by vampires. When Klaus had bitten her, it had been impersonal, almost dainty. He hadn't been biting her to feed, or even out of malice. He simply needed her dead. When Stefan had bitten her that horrible night at the high school, there had been hunger and pain, but still a practiced edge to the bite, two neat circular holes in her neck. And when Damon had bitten her...well, that had been a maestro playing his instrument, an experience she only half remembered but which combined all-consuming pleasure with intense pain, all wrapped in a deathly shroud.
When Abby bit her, it was like being attacked by a wild, savage beast. These weren't tidy puncture wounds—Abby was trying to tear the blood out of her, ripping the skin from her flesh to access the hot, vital blood underneath. Sickly sounds of sucking and squelching echoed in the air. And it hurt. A lot. Elena didn't scream; she bellowed, a sound of rage and pain bursting from her belly and shattering the deathly quiet night. Abby was messy and out of control, but Elena couldn't budge the newly fledged vampire. So this is how I'm going to die, Elena thought faintly. Stupidly and for no reason. Not because I'm the doppelganger. It was almost poetic, in a way.
Her hands groped feebly for a weapon, to shove Abby away, but she just couldn't. The vampire's strength was a hundred times more than her small frame suggested, and she could not be moved. Just as darkness began swimming at the edge of her vision and her knees began to buckle, she and Abby were thrown to the ground. That hurt, too. A lot. Stars exploded across the darkness as Elena's head cracked against the pavement. Vaguely, she was aware of bodies moving, grunts of pain, the smack of flesh on flesh. Then a woman crying.
Footsteps tromped in and out of the house. The door slammed shut. Voices. Elena tried to sit up, but the world spun alarmingly and she fell back to the ground, pillowing her cheek on the rough, cold concrete. Minutes or hours could have passed; Elena only knew the cold and the pain, a roar in her neck, a throb in her head. But eventually, Stefan was there, kneeling at her side, pulling her bloody hair away from the mangled mess of her neck and shoulder.
"God. Elena, can you hear me? Everything's gonna be okay, Elena," Stefan said. He didn't sound like everything was going to be okay though; he sounded like she was laying on the ground bleeding from a major artery. Why did he always lie about things like this?
"Bonnie?" Where was her friend? Bonnie never would have left her mother alone. Had Abby feasted on her own daughter before moving on to the second course? If Stefan could kill his father, surely Abby could kill the daughter she'd abandoned for so long. The thought of Bonnie cold and dead was worse than the pain that racked her body.
"Fine. Waking up. Thought she didn't need to take vervain, that her powers would protect her from any vamp trying to compel her. She learned differently," Stefan said. He wiped blood away from her neck to get a better look at her ruined flesh, and Elena cried out.
"Damon," Elena pleaded. More than anything, she wanted him here. Why was Stefan here? Where had he come from? It was always Damon who was there when she needed him; why Stefan now?
"There isn't time for him to get here, Elena." His teeth crunched into the blood-rich flesh of his arm, and red droplets dripped onto the pavement in front of Elena's eyes.
"I'll be fine." Her lips were numb, and the words tasted strange in her mouth.
"You have to drink, Elena. You have to drink or you'll die. The blood..there's a lot of blood here," Stefan said, his voice tender and frightened and weak.
Even in her present state, Elena had to appreciate the irony. Only a few weeks before, he'd shoved that same blood down her throat as she'd screamed and screamed and pleaded for her life. Now when that same blood actually could save her, he hesitated. There was no wrist jammed against her mouth, no unwanted blood trickling down her throat. Now when he could save her, he chose to play the gentleman. She started to laugh, but it ended in a painful dry cough that sent fresh lances of pain through her body.
"Okay," she said. Not for him. None of this was for him. And if there had been any other choice, she never would have gotten anywhere near a drop of Stefan's blood again. But she knew if she died because of this, Damon would find a way to haul her ghost back to this side of the veil just so he could kick her ass for being so stubborn. The blood was cold and bitter, thinner than Damon's. Bunnies, she thought with a giggle as the blood dripped into her mouth. It's thinner because of the bunnies.
After Stefan withdrew his wrist, it was a few moments until the blood took its effect, until she felt vitality seeping back into her body and her shredded flesh begin to mend. After a few more moments, she could sit upright. Stefan had been right; there was a lot of blood. No wonder Abby was so hungry—she'd spilled most of her dinner. Abby. Her heart sank.
"You didn't stake Abby, did you?" Elena asked. What had happened hadn't been Abby's fault. How could she be expected to control the hunger? She'd never asked for this, and Elena didn't blame her. But more than that, she didn't know what would happen to Bonnie if her mother died a true death before they'd had a chance to make things right.
But Stefan shook his head. "Vervain. Locked her down in the basement. It won't hold her if she wakes up, but I'll talk to her. Hopefully this was just a..lapse in judgment."
Elena nodded. In a way, it was better that Stefan had found her. If it had been Damon, he almost certainly would have killed Abby. While Bonnie might be able to forgive him for killing her mother once, twice was pushing it for anyone. "How did you find me?"
"I was coming to see Abby. I've been helping her, since she turned. I thought we were getting somewhere, that she was gonna be okay, but..." Stefan smiled bitterly, pushing himself to his feet. "That was stupid of me. Of all people, I should understand the draw of human blood." He offered her a hand up, and Elena hesitated only a second before she took it, rising unsteadily. "I'd offer to drive you home, but I need to-"
"You need to stay with Abby. I'm not going, anyway—I need to see Bonnie," Elena said. She glanced down at her clothes. She was pretty sure this shirt had been blue this morning. Now it was almost black. Great. Not exactly how she'd wanted to face Bonnie, but the girl was going to need a friend now more than ever.
"I don't know that that's a great idea, Elena. She's having a hard time coping. She shouldn't have to see her mother like this. You should have let me die, Elena." His eyes glistened in the darkness, and Elena suddenly realized what Damon's cryptic comments had meant. "My brother tried to do the noble thing," he'd said. "I even left him a few squirrels," he'd said. Why would a Stefan with no emotions sacrifice himself? Why would he need squirrels when he'd been living on human blood for months? Because they were all lies. Because Stefan was detoxing, and his switch was on. Somehow, he'd found the courage to feel again. Elena admired him immensely for that, but almost wished it wasn't true. Because what she was going to tell him now was going to hurt. A lot.
Elena rested one bloodied hand on his cheek. The gesture was familiar but wrong, like hearing a favorite song sung in a different key. "I didn't want to save you, Stefan. I wanted to let you go." His head dropped low, dislodging her hand. "I couldn't let an innocent person die to keep you alive." She insistently pulled his chin back up, forcing him to meet her eyes. "But your brother loves you. And he couldn't let you go. He knew you'd hate him—and yourself—for this. But he loves you enough to let you hate him."
Stefan pulled away from her, and her fingers trailed off along his cheek. "You love him." There was such certainty in his voice, such fatalistic acceptance in his eyes. "I've really lost you this time."
Elena smiled, surprised to find tears in her own eyes. "We lost each other."
Stefan took a few steps away, staring up at the night sky. He turned back to her, as if to speak, then shook his head and walked into the Bennett house.
Something within Elena shifted, eased. Stefan's pain was obvious and excruciating. Maybe once, she'd wanted to see him suffer for what he'd done to her, but now, seeing how hard he was trying to claw his way back to himself, to the genuinely good person he'd once been, she couldn't wish him misery. Now, she just wanted him to find the same kind of peace Damon had found. But she was glad to put the final period in the chapter of Stefan and Elena. Those two people who'd once loved each other blindly, never truly knowing the other, were gone. One day, maybe they could be friends. One day, maybe Stefan could accept the fierce love Damon felt for him.
But that day wasn't today. Today, Elena had to go to Bonnie, had to try to make this right. She walked into the house.