Hey guys! Again, sorry for the wait, but my sickness came back with a vengeance!
But I am writing these as fast aa I am able, so hopefully the next chapter will be quicker :)
Anyway, thanks for the reviews, and I hope you enjoy!
Present day
Damon was burning through his magic faster than usual, trying to keep a tab on each vibe released from Elena's body.
The conversation was going about as well as he'd expected, but at least she hadn't ran off yet.
"Stefan?" She swallowed, "My Stefan?"
He flinched at those words, making a mental note to skin his brother alive.
"Stefan is my brother," he confirmed.
She shook her head, but he was already in touch with each wave of her essence.
It was reluctant, but part of her believed him.
"How do I know that you're telling the truth?" She asked finally.
He smiled at a memory, "You don't...But I can show you."
Her eyes met his, "With...magic?"
He nodded, "But I'm limited. You'll have to choose what you'd like me to show you."
She swallowed, "Show me proof. Show me something that backs up your story."
Damon thought through her words and decided on the more vivid memory.
The night they died.
"Give me your hand," he instructed.
She hesitated, but eventually did as he asked, extending her arm.
He pulled out the pocket knife he'd found at his cabin.
"This will hurt," he warned, before slicing her hand.
Then did the same to his own.
"Place your palm against mine," he told her.
Elena paused, "...You don't have AIDS, right?"
He cocked his head, "What?"
"Nothing," she shook off her worries, before doing as he'd told her.
The second their blood met, Damon felt a jolt spur through him.
Such was the potency of Petrova blood.
He interlaced their fingers, and Elena gasped, feeling the magic flow between them.
"Close your eyes."
She did so, and he started the spell.
Leaves swirled at their feet, and a familiar pain began pounding in his head.
It was working.
Elena inhaled, as he drew the memory forward, letting it take over his consciousness.
He's in chains.
Elena runs into the room.
She admits to knowing of the murders, and singlehandedly kills the captain of the guard, and drinks him.
Her power grows with the blood, her mind alone strong enough to keep the others off of her.
Once the captain is emptied, she succumbs to the chains, knowing what must be done.
They are led out, and soon, Stefan is before them.
Damon recalls the argument, and Elena's boast, of rising again, of power, of love.
Stefan sentences them to death.
Now they are on the platform, tied to each other, tied to the stake.
The comet is in place.
They kiss.
The guard lights the fire.
The last thing he knows of the world is the bite of the flame, the smell of boiling flesh, and Elena's screams, as death takes them.
Damon was snapped from the memory as Elena ripped her hand away.
Her eyes blazing, as her body shook, "That was real, wasn't it?"
He nodded slowly.
She took a breath, and silence echoed around them.
"Oh God," she exhaled.
Damon barely moved fast enough to catch her, as her body finally gave out, having taken on more than she was ready for.
She lay faint in his arms, and he knew what he had to do.
Carrying her back to her car, he laid her in the back seat, before climbing behind the wheel.
In his preparation for life in the twenty-first century, he'd drained every thought from Amelia the night he'd met her.
With a simple, yet powerful, touch, he'd seen her life through her eyes.
Fundamentally, he knew how a vehicle worked.
Practically, he'd never driven one.
He tried to remember that specific time in Amelia's life, and managed to start the ignition.
Next, he put the car into reverse.
As the tires began rolling, he eased.
This wasn't too complicated.
He turned the tires accordingly, until the traction shifted, and he was back on the path that led to the main road.
He focused, glad that it was late, so he didn't have to worry about other drivers.
It didn't take long to get to the cabin, and he parked the car successfully, before carrying Elena inside.
He laid her on the couch, figuring she'd feel safer there, than in a bed, and went to the kitchen to wet a cloth.
After placing it on Elena's forehead, he moved to start a fire.
It was a little cold out, and he wanted her comfortable.
He had just added the last log when she began to stir, though didn't quite wake up.
He moved to her side, pulling up a stool to sit on.
She was so beautiful, even unconscious.
His hand pressed the cool rag against her forehead, as he admired the changes in her form.
This Elena was more firm, muscles developed from sports, more than likely, and her hair was cut in layers, shorter than it had been in the past, though not by much.
She also wore make up, which made her already long lashes thick and dark, as they curved over the top of her cheek.
He removed the wet cloth, to stroke her skin.
It was as soft as his memory served, and his touch seemed to awaken her further.
She groaned, and moved a little, before her eyes fluttered open.
She blinked at the ceiling for a moment, then sat up.
Her gaze shifted around the room, to the fire, and finally, to him.
When her eyes met his, the energy from her body pulsated, emotions pouring out.
He felt her confusion at the location fade as her desire for him took over.
Like before, it was a flash of hot lust, begging him to connect their bodies.
Her hand reached up, gripping the amulet, as she swallowed.
"Where are we?"
He straightened, "My cabin, just beyond the falls. You fainted."
She blinked, as if trying to remember how much of the night was real, and how much she'd hoped was a dream.
"So," she turned, slipping her legs over the edge of the couch, "All of that really happened?"
He nodded slowly, "It's a lot to take in."
"That's an understatement."
Her breathing evened out a little, "You said Stefan was a part of this. That he was your brother...does he know? About me? About the dreams, and...whatever this is?"
Damon weighed his answer, "He knows who you are. He knows I've returned, and he knows that this doesn't end well for him. What he doesn't know is that you and I have already spoken."
Elena's eyes focused, "What do you mean, this ends badly for him?"
Damon sighed, placing his palms on her thighs.
"How much of the story do you remember?"
"Only what I've heard in class," Elena admitted, her leg twitching at his touch, "But I get the feeling that a few details were left out of the history books."
Damon nodded, moving closer to her.
"I told you that I'd explain everything. But I need you to open your mind."
Her breath shook, "I'm not a believer. I don't believe in magic...at least, I never have. But I don't know how else to explain whatever this is."
Her resolve solidified, "So, whatever you know...I want to hear it."
He couldn't help but smile.
There was his girl, with that Petrova fire burning in her eyes.
"As you wish."
Elena took a deep breath as Damon's blue eyes sparked.
He was still so close, she had to fight the urge to touch him, especially as his fingers caressed her thighs.
"What else do you wish to know?"
She swallowed, pulling her eyes from his lips as he spoke.
"You said we were magic. Shadow...whatevers. That we killed."
Damon nodded, and she held his gaze, "Why? And don't tell me it was for the power. I want specifics."
He smiled slightly at her request, and her heart sped.
"You have to understand what the time was," he started, "There were no creature comforts, even among those who lived in luxury. Hidden away in the palace, I had nothing stopping me from experimenting with the possibilities magic allowed. My mother had taught me enough to raise my interest, and the rest, I learned on my own. I studied, practiced, used, all through my youth. Magic made things easier. I could soothe wild horses, see my own future, move objects with my mind, and each time I used, I grew stronger. Magic is a hard tool to manipulate though, and I was unprepared for the addictiveness. I couldn't be without it, and why would I want to? It was all I had. Until you."
Elena hung to each of his words, trying to imagine it.
"You showed me how to practice magic?"
He lifted his gaze, "I showed you a way out of the suffocating life awaiting you. However, magic wasn't new to you. One of your servants was a born witch. But when you learned of my kind of magic...you couldn't get enough. You took to it like a babe to a breast. Latching on, always starving for more. That's why you killed."
Elena bit her lip.
She was a seventeen year old high school senior. She was not a murderer.
But apparently, she had been in her past life.
A life where witches and magic was a normal thing.
The same life the man before her had lived.
She swallowed as she stared into his eyes.
Was this feeling part of the witchcraft?
Because he'd admitted to murder.
He'd killed!
And it didn't even seem to bother him.
So why didn't she feel fear?
"Can you influence emotions?" She asked cautiously, "Is that within your power?"
He shrugged, "With the correct spell, perhaps. But I've casted none on you."
His eyes darkened, "Whatever you're feeling now, it's not manifested from magic."
"How do you know I'm feeling something?" She pressed.
His hands slid up the length of her legs as he leaned forward, "Because I feel your emotions like an energy. I am very powerful tonight, and naturally attuned to your body. I know you."
"Then explain this," she breathed, motioning between them, "If it's not a spell...How can I feel like this?"
Damon closed his eyes, their foreheads merely a breath from each other.
"We didn't know how the preservation spell would work, the night we cast it. We only knew that we had to find a way to be together, and the night of the comet was our only chance for a celestial event powerful enough to bind the spell."
"What's your point?" She cut.
He smirked, "The comet's return has awoken your memories. Not all of them, obviously, but enough to give you a glimpse of your past. The closer the comet gets to the moon's apex, the stronger your tie to our past is. The emotions you are experiencing now are foreign to you, because you have yet to experience them in this life."
He lifted a hand to her cheek, "Your two realities are colliding Elena. One soul existing through two lifetimes. Elena Petrova exists, somewhere within the hidden part of your mind, and she wants out. You want you to remember what we had, and that's why you feel this way. Your heart holds what your mind has forgotten."
Elena covered her hand with his own, "So this...pull toward you, this need I have for you...it's what she felt? What I felt, in the past?"
Damon's voice was thick, "A mere shadow of the true emotion. Same as your dreams. The echo of your past."
Elena laughed disbelieving, "If this is only a fragment of what felt for you, how did we even survive each other?"
Damon grinned, "We didn't reign ourselves in. Nothing was off limits, and we burned from our desire. Can you understand now? Why I'm so desperate for you to believe? For you to remember me?"
Elena pulled away from him, moving to stand.
She turned to the fire and crossed her arms, as realization struck.
"You want her back...You want me to become her?"
Damon stood, and she felt his presence behind her.
"No," he breathed, "I want you back. You are one and the same."
"How can I be her, Damon? I see that life, and I feel her love for you, but she was a killer. There's a reason Stefan burned us at the stake! You...You killed your own father. If I didn't have these feelings from that past life, I'd be terrified of you. You're a monster."
His arms wrapped around her, pulling her hard against his body.
She was torn with the urge to relax into him, but didn't want her actions to undermine her words.
"We did what we needed to do," he whispered, "I know I can't ask you to trust me yet, but I'm begging, trust yourself. Every part of yourself. Even the part that goes against the things you believe."
Her breathing deepened, "How can I? I can't be her and still be me."
"But you already are," Damon insisted, turning her.
His eyes were fiery, his grip strong, "Elena, try to understand. Gaining your memories doesn't change who you are. You may be different now, having been raised in this life," he grabbed her chin, holding her eyes, "But even the whitest rose has a black shadow, my love. You are two sides to one coin. And you will never truly be yourself until you have all the pieces of the puzzle."
His gaze trailed to her lips, and she bit them.
His breath turned shallow, "I need you to believe me now, Elena. I need you to be willing to remember."
She blinked at him, "Why? Why so urgently now? If the comet is already affecting me, won't I remember more as it passes?"
Damon dropped his hands from her face, bringing them to rest at her hip.
"The Aurora Borealis happens this Saturday, with the full moon. I fear if we don't recover your memory by then, it'll be too late. Once it passes, It's gone for the next five hundred years, by which time, we will be dead, and all of this was for nothing."
Elena considered this, "But you've used the comet before, right? Why couldn't you do it again, and live or be reborn or whatever?"
"Because last time, it took us both," he reminded her, "Even with our combined magic, the sacrifice of patricide, and our deaths, the spell barely worked. If we don't recover your memory in time, this will be the only life we have together. And you will always be a mere shadow of yourself."
Her heart pounded, as the fire cracked, behind her.
Thoughts whirled in her head as she reviewed his words.
All the glimpses from the past she'd seen this week filled her mind.
She didn't want to be a monster.
But Damon was right about her needing all the pieces.
How was she suppose to live the rest of her life, knowing there was more to the story.
She exhaled.
"What do I have to do?"
I'm hoping this explained a little more! Can't wait to see what ya'll think, so please, please, review!
Seriously, I'm sick and stuck in bed all day. Your reviews will make the passing time more bearable!