Hey guys! Miss me? Good to be back with this little story. Even though the show is finally back from its cruel hiatus, "Consumed" won't be returning to daily updates. That real life thing has caught up with me. But don't worry, we'll still update a couple times a week. For now, how do the events of 1912 affect our lovebirds? Well...
Elena pulled the pillow over her face. It was too bright, too loud, and too early. Damon's phone wouldn't shut up. "Make it stop," she moaned. Even with the dose of vampire blood Stefan had given her, she was still sore and stiff, her neck cricked and her head throbbing. And his phone just kept vibrating, his fingers tapping and tapping on the keys.
"Sorry. Baby brother drama," Damon said.
That got her attention. She peeked out from under the pillow. She hated Stefan's pain. She was proud he was brave enough to feel, but now he had all those emotions, all that guilt and pain, and then she'd been selfish enough to add to it last night by telling him once and for all that it was always going to be Damon...well, Elena didn't take any joy in that.
"It's not because of you," Damon reassured her. "Well, not only. That's just part of it. But he's not doing so well." He sighed, tossing the phone onto the nightstand and burying his face in the crook of her neck. She stroked his hair, scouring her brain, trying to decide if there had been any way to avoid inflicting that pain on Stefan last night. But there hadn't been any getting around it. The sooner she got out of his heart and made it clear that they could never be together again, the sooner he might be able to heal and move on.
"What can I do to help?" she asked. It wasn't like she'd flipped a switch on Stefan, that she didn't still care for him in spite of everything, in spite of the bridge.
"You? Nothing. The best thing you can do is stay away," he said.
"Do I really screw things up that badly? Would everyone be better off if I just stayed away?" Elena couldn't fight the sick feeling that was growing in the pit of her stomach. Jeremy had been better off halfway across the country; Bonnie never wanted to see her again, and she couldn't do anything to help Stefan. She was weak and useless.
"What? No! That's not what I meant," Damon said, pulling her close. "Everybody's just got...issues, right now. And yeah, a lot of Stefan's have to do with you. Understandably. And Stefan's also having issues with anyone with a functioning circulatory system, so it's an even worse idea for you to be anywhere near him."
Logically, she knew Damon was right. But that didn't make it any easier to accept that so many people in her life didn't want or need her anymore. She couldn't think about that right now. Couldn't. Focus on Stefan, focus on doing something useful. "So he's off human blood again. He told me...he told me that last time, it took him thirty years to get his head back on straight after his Ripper binge," she said.
"Yeah. It was a shitty thirty years, too," Damon said, staring up at the ceiling, his thoughts a million miles and half a century away.
"Did you...see him then? Did you help him?" Elena asked hesitantly. She knew the brothers hadn't seen each other in a long time before they'd come back to Mystic Falls, but she didn't know all the details. It really wasn't her business, anyway.
He didn't answer right away. "I kept tabs on him." Elena let it go. There were things she still didn't tell Damon, after all. She didn't need to know everything. Damon sighed, giving her one last squeeze before sliding out of bed. "I hate to leave you. But-"
"Go. He's your brother, Damon. And he needs you right now," Elena said. It was tempting to pull the pillow back over her face and try to steal a few more moments of sleep, but she had things to do today. She pulled herself out of bed with a little groan.
"I dunno about that, but he needs someone. And right now, I'm all he's got," Damon said. He was pawing through the little overnight bag he'd brought to the Gilbert house. "But before I go, I have something for you."
"You know I hate it when you—is that blood?" Elena said as Damon turned back toward her. Sure enough, he was holding a tiny glass container of thick, red liquid dangling from a chain. Elena's stomach roiled.
"I know, I know. It's a little Billy Bob and Angelina, but you-we- got lucky last night. If Stefan hadn't been there..." Damon shook his head. "Just take it."
It was disgusting. It was wrong. If he really wanted to keep her safe, he'd do what she'd asked and just turn her already. But he was also right. Damn him, he was right a lot. She took the creepy necklace and he smiled. "Thank you. Now can you try to stay out of trouble for one day? Please?" he weedled.
Elena huffed. "I'm wearing this, but don't press your luck. Besides, trouble usually finds me."
"True." He kissed her. "I'll be back...sometime. I'll keep you posted."
"Promise me you'll stay out of trouble, too," Elena asked anxiously. He wasn't the only person she had, but...they were dropping like flies. "Promise me you'll stay safe."
But he just grinned. "No to the first, yes to the second. Love you."
Damon hadn't been gone for five minutes when her phone vibrated with a new text message. "Change of plans. Ric's in jail."
Elena was no stranger to the Sheriff's Department. She'd been there with Caroline often enough, dropping by to ask her mom if they could go to the movies or if Caroline could spend the night. Then there were the less pleasant moments, when she'd filled out paperwork after the accident, when Sheriff Forbes had questioned her gently but thoroughly about that awful night. Or when the sheriff had picked Jeremy up for smoking a joint behind the Grill, but gave Elena a knowing look and told her to take her brother home and not to let it happen again. But she'd never been there before as a suspect, a perpetrator, a criminal.
They were lucky Sheriff Forbes was letting them walk away. Breaking and entering was a serious crime, and Elena never would have forgiven herself if Matt had gotten caught because of her and wound up with a felony on his record. That could ruin all his hopes and dreams for a football scholarship that would take him away from Mystic Falls once and for all. But after Elena's disastrous confrontation with Meredith, where she'd spouted bald-faced lies about Ric (a history of fighting? A restraining order? No, that wasn't the Ric Elena knew), Matt had been the only person she trusted by her side. Dependable Matt, steady Matt, who always trusted her and was there at a moment's notice. And she'd repaid his loyalty by nearly ruining his future.
But the sheriff had let them walk, and Elena was glad. She'd even let them see Alaric for a moment, let them confirm he was okay, if shaken by the whole ordeal. How could he not be? How insane was all of this, for Ric to be accused of his own murder, when Meredith Fell had an entire closet full of incriminating evidence? Evidence that now could never be used in a court of law. Because of them.
The night air was bracing, the stars startling and bright against the clear, cold sky. Matt came to a halt beside her. "I'm sorry, Matt."
Matt gave that little half laugh of his, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "Why? I'm not."
Elena looked up at him in surprise. "I just talked you into breaking and entering into a psycho's house, got caught, and got you hauled down to the police station. How are you not sorry about that?"
The big man shrugged, unperturbed. "Maybe those parts weren't great. But you called me. And you let me help. No one ever does that anymore." He looked down at her. "I've missed you, Elena."
Elena had never loved Matt. Not romantically, not like she suspected he'd loved her. But there was no better man in the world to have as a friend than Matt Donovan. In some ways, she was sorry he'd been drawn into this world, but on the other hand, she was glad to have someone by her side who she could always, always trust to have her best interests at heart. "I've missed you too, Matt. Thanks. For everything."
The pair walked into the night, sneakers scuffing on the sidewalk. "Why do you think Dr. Fell wants to frame Mr. Saltzman?" Matt asked.
"Because she's crazy? I don't know. Something just isn't right about that woman." Elena sighed. "Poor Ric. He just can't win."
Matt considered this thoughtfully. "He had a good thing going with Jenna. That wasn't his fault, the way it ended. But I think when you're a vampire hunter, you have to accept that you're going to meet some crazy chicks."
Elena laughed. "Yeah, I guess you're right. But still-"
"That's enough!" There was an impact of bodies, and a familiar tang scented the breeze. Damon. Blood. She and Matt broke into a run, rounding the corner, but the scene in front of them didn't make sense. Damon kneeling over a blonde woman, delicate drips of blood in the corners of his mouth. Stefan, his eyes full of horror and hunger and need and sheer terror, scarlet staining the lower half of his face, his eyes bright and shining in the night.
"What are you doing?" Elena asked. That woman, was she dead? What were they doing? Stefan was supposed to be fighting his hunger, not killing random women on the street. None of this made sense. None of it. And Stefan's face, marred with the blood he'd tried so hard to refuse, to reject. "Stefan," she breathed.
Stefan tried futilely to wipe the blood from his face, but his hands trembled and there was too much. Even if he could have disposed of every drop, he couldn't hide the truth of what he'd done tonight.
"Elena," he whispered.
Had he just lost control? Had he been trying to fight the hunger, but it had overcome him, overwhelmed him? Then why was Damon here, looking distinctly annoyed at her presence? What did he have to do with all this?
"What are you two doing?" she demanded, staring at Damon. What had he done?
"Relax, Elena," he said, as if she were the unreasonable one in all this. "Just a little experiment; let's not make this more dramatic than it needs to be."
"An experiment?" Elena cried. "Experiments don't end with dead bodies, Damon! How could you? How could you do this?"
Stefan had needed his brother, and his brother had failed him. Damon had refused to let her help, and now looking at Stefan, at the pain and guilt and ravenous hunger in his eyes, and Elena didn't know what would become of him. But Matt was there, his hand strong on her arm. "Elena. Let's just go," he said. But how could she go? How could she just walk away when this woman was dead and Stefan was broken and Damon was staring at her with such anger? "Elena!"
Matt was pulling her away, propelling her down the street away from the carnage. But Elena looked back over her shoulder, saw Damon scooping the motionless woman up in his arms.
"One of these days, you're going to have to accept that I'm not a person," Damon had said. As she turned her back on him, she finally did.