I didn't watch the season six finale - or any of season six... - but, I thought, maybe, I could swing getting an update posted as requested by several of you who are just not happy about what went down. I can't really blame you. Talk about a kick in the face. Anyway...
Thank you so much for your feedback last chapter! I'm so relieved you got it - that Molly is only 3 and whoa, Damon is her daddy?! Too much for a kiddo to comprehend. Thank you a million times for all your reviews and favoriting and alerting!
Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.
Damon whistled to himself as he left the Salvatore Racing gym.
He was in a good mood.
After spending Easter with Molly and Elena, his first holiday as a parent, things had shifted back to a more normal routine. He still spent a lot of time with both Molly and Elena, but his nights were spent back at his own place, somewhat to his dismay. He had grown used to being around them consistently. He missed them when he was away, and wondered if that sentiment was returned. Molly was still calling him 'Day-mun,' but he was now referring to himself "daddy" around her. She still hadn't asked questions, but as Elena kept reminding him, she was only three. Things had even slightly improved with his family. He had shown up for Easter dinner – Molly and Elena in tow – and had managed to be on his best behavior.
He rounded a corner, his thoughts turning to the weekend's race at Bristol. They had raced at Richmond two days earlier, a quick two hour drive from Salvatore Racing headquarters, and it hadn't been his best day. He had spent the night arguing with Mason about his car. They had never managed to get dialed in, resulting in a 18th place finish. After a win at Texas, he hadn't planned to come back after the Easter break with a mediocre performance and he was still salty about it. He made his way to the kitchen and swung through the door. He stopped short when he saw Stefan seated at the table, deep in thought.
"Careful," Damon quipped. "You're going to get wrinkles on your pretty face if that frown gets any deeper." Stefan looked up, surprised by his arrival.
"Oh, hey," he greeted. "Sorry. I didn't hear you come in."
"Clearly." Damon went to the snack cabinet and helped himself to a bag of chips, then grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.
"You hear about Jeff yet?" Stefan asked. Damon leaned against the counter.
"No. Why? Should I have heard about Jeff?" He tended to worry about his race team and let the other drivers worry about theirs. He was under the impression that the others tolerated him, but didn't particularly care for him. He couldn't really blame them. Stefan let out a sigh.
"He tripped over one of his kids' toys last night, fell down the stairs, and broke his leg in two places. He had surgery last night and has another one scheduled for later this week. It's safe to say he's out for the season." Damon let out a low whistle.
"Talk about an exclamation point on what's already been a rough season." Stefan's team hadn't been able to catch a break all season long. Jeff had finished well a couple of times, but between accidents and equipment mishaps out of their control, their season had gotten off to a rocky start with a string of bad luck.
"He's been talking about retirement," Stefan said. "I'll be surprised if he comes back after this."
"So, what are you going to do? Pull in one of the Nationwide drivers?" There was no doubt that Jeff's car would still be on the track, whether Jeff was driving it or not. At the end of the day, it was a Salvatore Racing car and they had a business to run. Stefan shrugged.
"We're either going to pull up a Nationwide driver or pick up a driver without a ride this season. Dad told me to think about it and let him know what I think we should do."
"Well, I'm sorry for how the season ended for him," Damon said genuinely. "I know Jeff had big hopes for The Chase." Stefan cracked the faintest of grins.
"You realize that as of right now, you are the only Salvatore Racing driver in The Chase?" Damon couldn't help but smirk.
"Who would of thought?" he asked. Stefan shook his head.
"Not me," he admitted. "I knew you had the talent, but I didn't think you had the – behavior."
"It always has been my M.O. to do exactly the opposite of what's expected of me," Damon mused.
"Very true," Stefan agreed. "I didn't think you would step up and be a father to Molly, but so far, you're pretty damn good at it."
"A lot has changed in the last few months," Damon reminded him. Stefan nodded his agreement. "How's Caroline doing?" Damon couldn't remember the last time Caroline had spoken directly to him. She had talked at him and around him, but hadn't directed even a rude comment his way in months. He supposed that was her allegiance to Elena.
"She's good now that the morning sickness is over. We find out week after next whether we're having a boy or a girl. Which conveniently lines up with the week she has picked for me to paint the baby's nursery." Damn smiled, but he couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. He didn't get to paint his daughter's bedroom.
"What do you want?" he asked. "Boy or girl?" Stefan gave him a guilty sort of grin.
"I want a healthy baby," he said diplomatically. "But, I mean, a boy wouldn't be awful." Damon chuckled. "What?"
"Just picturing Caroline with a boy," Damon confessed. Stefan chuckled too.
"It is kind of funny," he admitted. He knew Caroline would love any child of theirs, more than anything, but the idea of her raising a boy – especially a Salvatore – was comical all the same. "What happened at Richmond?" he asked, changing the topic. "You typically run well there." Damon shook his head.
"I don't know. The car was tight all night long, couldn't get out of the turns. We were burning through tires. I had a ton of feedback in my headset, so it was hard to hear. On top of it being hard to hear, Mason just would not listen to me. I kept giving him feedback, he kept doing whatever the hell he wanted." He was convinced the tension between he and his crew chief was what ultimately cost him a better finish at Richmond.
"How's it going with Mason anyway?" Stefan curiously. When his father brought Damon on, he had wondered if Damon and Mason would mesh. Mason liked to dictate the team's strategy, while Damon liked to have a conversation, tell his team what he needed, get feedback, find a solution, and get it done. Damon shrugged.
"Some weeks its great, other weeks it's a struggle," he said. He hadn't really talked about his struggles with his crew chief outside of a passing comment to Enzo or Ric who, at least he thought, seemed to agree with him. "He doesn't listen to me, you know? I'm in the damn car. I know how it feels. If I'm saying its tight, then it's tight."
"It's still early in the season," Stefan mused. "You two will get in a groove soon enough."
"Maybe," Damon said doubtfully. "Truth is, you're the best damn crew chief I've ever had. It's hard to go from the best to – just okay." Stefan raised an eyebrow, surprised at Damon's complement.
"You were one of the better drivers I've worked with," he replied. He wouldn't stroke Damon's ego by telling him he had been the best driver he had worked with. It came down to the fact that they were brothers. They knew each other front and back. They could read one another, at least when it came to racing. Stefan had trusted Damon's instincts and, in turn, Damon had trusted Stefan. "All good things must come to an end, I guess."
Silence fell between the brothers. Damon placed his empty chip bag on the counter and took a drink from his water bottle before clearing his throat.
"Stefan, listen, I'm sorry." He choked over the words. Not because he didn't mean them, but because it was hard to start the conversation. Stefan looked at him, surprised once more. "For everything. I know I left you high and dry, a team with no driver, when I took off. I'm sorry, too, about how I acted whenever you tried to talk to me at races. I know now you were trying to tell me about Elena and Molly. And, well, I'm sorry, okay?" Damon ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry."
Silence stretched between the two brothers as Stefan processed what he heard and Damon waited for his response.
"It's hard to just accept an apology," Stefan finally said. "A simple 'I'm sorry' doesn't make up for three and a half years of absolutely nothing, followed by the last six months or so of you being an all out jackass towards us." Damon blew out a breath as feelings of frustration, no matter how irrational, started to bubble.
"I know that," he replied. "I'm trying though. That has to count for something."
"Why did you leave?" Stefan countered. "Why did you take off like that? Not a word, not even a post-it note." Damon pursed his lips. He owed Stefan an explanation, just as much as he did Elena and his parents.
"I wanted to race," he started.
"You were racing," Stefan interrupted. "You were the best damn driver in the Nationwide series…"
"I wanted to race in the Cup," Damon said with as much patience as he could muster. "Full time. Dad's part time deal wasn't cutting it. He passed over me for the full time ride and I was pissed off about it. When the chance to drive in the Cup series came, I took it."
"And look what it cost you," Stefan shot back. Damon bit his lip to keep himself from replying with something he might regret. He was making an effort to keep calm and listen to Stefan. He didn't have the right to lose his temper after everything he had put his brother through.
"I felt suffocated," he said, trying to explain. "I had never raced for anyone other than Dad. I felt like I was being held back. I wanted to see what I could do. I needed to see what I could do. Leaving Salvatore Racing was something I had to do. I could have gone about it a hell of lot differently. I could have handled the situation a lot differently. But, what's done is done. All I can do now is try to make amends."
Stefan fell silent again, playing with the empty wrapper in front of him. Damon waited. He knew Stefan. Whenever he went silent, he was carefully choosing his words.
"The fact that you left Salvatore Racing the way you did is one thing," Stefan finally spoke. "I can understand that. I think Dad understands that, too. You had an opportunity and none of us would begrudge you that. Families race against each other all the time in NASCAR. Ultimately, I don't give a damn that you left Salvatore Racing, no matter how you went about it. It's the fact that you left us, your family, that I can't get past. You weren't just my brother, Damon. You were my best friend. We played basketball in Mom and Dad's driveway one day and the next, I woke up to my phone ringing off the hook with people trying to find you.
"That's the part I don't understand. Why turn your back on us? We did nothing wrong. Sure, Dad didn't give you the full time spot. But, you weren't ready for it. You could have argued with him about it and moved on. Instead, you just completely dismissed us. Wrote us off like we never existed. Then, after three years of nothing, you nearly died. Had you not crashed like that at Talladega, you still wouldn't be here."
Stefan stopped speaking, his eyes focused on Damon who searched for something to say as a mixture of guilt and hurt washed over him.
"I'm sorry," he managed. "I don't know what else to say, except I'm sorry. I'm trying, Stefan. My actions cost me almost four years with my family. With Elena. I lost the first three years of my daughter's life. I'm never going to get that time back. That's my burden to bear and I promise you, I bear it every single day. Every day, it gets heavier and heavier. Some days, I'm not sure I can carry it any longer. But, I'm trying. And, I'm sorry."
Stefan stood and gathered his trash. "I have to go," he said. "I have got a lot to do before this weekend's race." Damon frowned.
"Come on, Stefan," he said. "You can't just walk away." Stefan raised an eyebrow.
"Didn't you?"
With that, he walked out the door, dropping his trash in the trashcan on his way out. Damon hung his head in both frustration and sadness. He was trying, but it hadn't occurred to him until just now that others, particularly his little brother, might not be ready to try as well.
It was dinnertime when Damon made his way back through the halls of Salvatore Racing, this time in search of the sweatshirt he thought he left in the gym. He found it still lying on a weight bench, and made his way back through the halls with intentions of going home. A light coming from Elena's office caught his attention, however, and he changed directions. As far as he knew, everyone had gone home for the night. He had worked on his Camaro for a few hours after his confrontation with Stefan and thought he was alone in the big building. He assumed Elena had left a light on when she left for the night and he entered her office without announcing himself to turn it off.
Elena gasped. "Damon!" she cried out, startled by his appearance, her hand flying to her chest.
"Oh, hey," he greeted, jumping himself. "I didn't think anyone was still here. I saw a light on. I thought you had forgot to turn it off when you left for the day. I was going to turn it off."
"I'm still here," Elena sighed, leaning back in her desk chair. "Between press inquires about Jeff's accident and the time I took off for my parents, I am so far behind. I will be here for a while."
"Where's Molly?" Damon asked, leaning against the doorframe.
"Your parents are keeping her tonight. I have never spent the night away from her, but I really needed to get some work done and your mom offered, so I accepted before I could talk myself out of it."
"She's in good hands," Damon mused, somewhat wishing Elena had thought to ask him to keep Molly. An idea struck him, however. It was a risk, but it seemed taking risks was the theme of the day. "Have you had dinner?" Elena shook her head.
"No," she admitted. "I'll grab a snack to tide me over until I can get home." Damon took a few steps into the office.
"Let's go get some dinner," he proposed. Elena gave him a look that told him she was going to reject him. He hurried on. "Nothing fancy. Just The Grill, grab some burgers. Then, you can come back here and get back to work." Elena pursed her lips, thinking it over. "Come on," Damon urged. "You know you're hungry. It's after seven o'clock." Elena sighed. She was starving.
"Fine," she agreed. "A quick bite to eat, and then back to work."
"Let's go," Damon said, ready to move before she changed her mind. Elena locked her computer, gathered her bag, and followed Damon out the door. He won the argument on driving, and the two spent the short trip from Salvatore Racing to The Grill chatting about Molly and the recent things she had said and done. Once they were at The Grill, Damon ushered Elena into a booth before sliding in across from her.
"I was still at headquarters because I was working," Elena said, reaching for a menu even though she knew what she was going to order. "What were you still doing there? I know for a fact your entire crew, even Ric, left around four o'clock."
"I was working on the Camaro," Damon told her. "I lost track of time." It was true. He had holed up in his garage bay to work and be alone with his thoughts, and hadn't realized how late it was until his stomach growled.
"How's that coming along?" Elena asked.
"Piece by piece," Damon answered. "It's come a long way in the last few months, but I still have a long ways to go." The car was kind of like him. He had come a long way in the last few months, both physically as he recovered from his injuries and mentally as he worked through his long list of issues, no matter how slowly he seemed to be wading through them. But, he still had quite a ways to go. Like his Camaro, there were a lot of pieces laying around, waiting to be put back together the way they were meant to function.
They kept conversation light while they ate, focusing on safe topics – Molly and racing. Damon didn't mind. He needed more of this with Elena – one-on-one time in a casual setting for them to reconnect, get to know one another again. It was also a chance for him to work on regaining her trust.
"So," Elena ventured after a while, "what happened between you and Stefan today?" Damon looked up from his plate, surprised. "I had a meeting with Jeff's team and Stefan was pretty wound up. I asked him if everything was okay and he made a comment that between you and Jeff, it had been a long day." Damon sighed.
"I tried to apologize to him. It didn't go as well as I hoped." It was Elena's turn to be surprised.
"You tried to apologize?" she repeated. Damon nodded.
"It just kind of happened. We were talking about racing and the baby, and it just felt like the right time to apologize. He ended up walking out on me. Which, as he pointed out, is exactly the same thing I did four years ago."
"You were Stefan's best friend," Elena reminded him. "He took your leaving hard." Damon poked at what was left of his French fries, no longer hungry.
"He said that," Damon admitted. "About me being his best friend. I guess I figured, out of everyone I have to apologize to, Stefan would be the one most willing to forgive me."
"All you can do is keep chipping away," Elena offered. "Maybe you should ask him for help on the Camaro. It may be easier to repair your relationship if you have something to bond over."
"Maybe," Damon conceded. Elena knew he wasn't convinced.
"I know you don't want to hear it, but just be patient, Damon. Keep doing what you're doing. Stefan will come around." Damon pursed his lips but didn't reply. It wasn't just Stefan he wanted to come around. And she was right – he was growing tired of being told to be patient, even he knew patience was key to getting his life back.
"I guess I should go to more family dinners," he said.
"That might be a decent place to start," Elena agreed. She eyed Damon then. "It's Tuesday."
"It is," Damon confirmed with a guilty tone. He knew where Elena was going.
"It's family dinner night at the Salvatores."
"It is," Damon repeated. He focused his gaze on his mostly empty plate. He heard Elena's soft sigh.
"Why are you avoiding them?" she asked point blank. "You talk about wanting to move forward, wanting to put the past behind you, but you are eating dinner with me at The Grill instead of at your parents' house, around their dining room table. We both know that as good as The Grill's burgers are, your mother's cooking puts it to shame."
"I don't know what to say to them," Damon admitted. "I messed up. I more than messed up. They took me back into the fold without so much as a second thought after my accident. They treated me like I never left. I should have tried to make amends then, but I didn't. I got out of there the first chance I got and until you came back, secret daughter in tow, I was still raising hell and making poor choices. At this point, its easier to keep avoiding them because I just don't know what to say."
"But is it easier?" Elena countered. "You are clearly struggling with it." Damon sighed. Elena knew him too well. "Besides," she continued. "You could just as easily avoid me. You could even avoid me while still being a good father to Molly, if you really wanted to. But, you don't. You invite me to dinner."
"You're – different," Damon tried to explain, although he didn't know if he could. "If anything, I figured it would be you, avoiding me."
"Avoiding you would have been easier, especially at first," Elena admitted. "But, it wasn't the best thing for Molly." Damon looked at her.
"I'm glad you didn't avoid me," he said sincerely. One day, he would tell Elena that she had saved him. She had given him a daughter, but she had also given him a reason to straighten out his life. If she hadn't come back to town, Molly in tow, he shuddered to think about what would have become of him.
"Honestly, I don't think I could stay away from you if I tried," Elena confessed. Damon couldn't help but smirk.
"That's my plan," he told her. She rolled her eyes, but smiled before growing serious again.
"Talk to your family, Damon," she told him. "You've lost enough time." Damon nodded his agreement. He needed to talk to his parents. He couldn't keep putting it off. Not only because he ran the risk of it being too late, but because if he wanted anything to happen between him and Elena, he needed to start rebuilding the bridges he had burned.
Somehow, all of those bridges seemed to lead back to her.
So it wasn't really a date for Damon and Elena but, let's be real, it was kind of a date. Damon knows what he's doing. Sort of. He really is trying, too. I know its a slow burn for Delena, but I like my stories to be organic - in real life, you don't just snap your fingers and get over years of hurt and questions.
Please let me know what you think!