I know I was mushy last update, but can I have another moment? Y'ALL! You have no idea how much you inspire me. You make me so excited about writing and sharing my stories. One of you mentioned that this story should be a movie and you kinda hit the nail on the head. Because of you all, somewhere between now and the time I posted the first chapter of Settle Down, it has become my greatest ambition to publish a book and maybe one day, see said book as a TV series or movie. I mean, if 50 Shades of Gray can start as a fanfiction...
So yes, thank you. Thank you a million times for the thousand plus reviews and all of your support and inspiration. I adore you.
Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.
It was funny how his life had changed.
It was barely 7AM on a Monday morning and instead of sleeping off a weekend of racing hard and partying harder, he was seated at his relatively clean kitchen counter, drinking coffee he brewed himself, and eating a microwavable sausage biscuit, a feat in itself as he had actually made the effort as of late to have any groceries on hand at all.
He had woken up before his alarm, feeling well rested and a bit sore. He was always a little sore the day after a race, but he felt it a little more prominently since Talladega. His shoulder was stiff and the leg he had broken ached faintly, but given the severities of the injuries he had suffered just six months ago, he didn't complain. It could have been so much worse.
His apartment was lonely. He didn't spend a lot of time there these days. They left for races on Wednesday or Thursday, depending on if it was a Saturday night or Sunday race. They returned home on Sunday or Monday, leaving him with only three or so days at home before they left again. He spent most of those three days at the shop or with Molly and Elena.
He picked Molly up from school on Tuesdays. She had dance class on Monday so he didn't usually see her. Elena took Molly to school and picked her up on Mondays, chauffeured her to dance class and then home for dinner and their evening routine. On Tuesdays, Elena took Molly to school while he bided his time until 2:30. After picking her up, he would spend time with her until dinner. He had found himself landing an invitation from Elena to stay for dinner more often than not on Tuesday evenings.
They had stayed at Bristol overnight after Saturday's race and given that Bristol was only a four hour drive from Mystic Falls, he had woken up – in a spare bunk on Caroline, Stefan, and Elena's motorhome at that – to the interstate flying by and the sound of Molly giggling at something Stefan was saying in the front lounge. He smiled as he thought about her giggle. He had heard that sound often during the time he spent with Elena after her parents' death a few weeks ago, Molly the one ray of sunshine for all of them. He had loved those early mornings with Molly while she was still a little sleepy, her dark brown hair a mess as she sat on her knees in her chair eating breakfast.
He realized that was the problem with his apartment. It was too quiet. Lonely and too quiet. There were no giggling three year olds or the sound of small feet scampering down the hallway. Elena wasn't calling for Molly to come to breakfast or telling her she had 10 more minutes before it was time for a bath. Cinderella wasn't playing on the TV and he wasn't tripping over American Girl doll accessories and plastic ponies.
He wanted his girls with him, all the time.
Molly had called him "Daddy." He had worried it was a one time thing, but he had woken up Sunday morning to find her still calling him "Daddy." He was sure there was nothing in the world better in the world. He had a purpose now, something that was so much more than racing. He had missed enough of her life, and he didn't want to miss any more.
And Elena had held his hand. It was such a small, simple gesture, but for them, it meant so much more. It gave him a sense of confidence that maybe he could actually earn her back. He wasn't foolish enough to believe it would be an easy road. He wasn't going to sweep her into a romantic kiss and erase all the hurt and pain he had caused. She was the strongest person he knew, putting aside her own hurt and anger for their daughter's sake. But underneath her accepting and welcoming demeanor, he knew all that hurt and anger was waiting. They had scratched the surface before the phone call about her parents, but had kicked the disturbed dirt back over it in the wake of their deaths. He would have to uncover it soon, face it and whatever came with it. He himself still had his own hurt and anger to deal with regarding Molly.
He allowed himself to think of a time down the road when he didn't have to wake up to an empty apartment. He could see himself waking up with Elena, getting Molly ready for school. He could picture himself mowing the lawn, taking out the trash. There were holidays and snowy nights spent in front of the fireplace. There was date nights with just him and Elena, Daddy/daughter days with Molly. And, in his craziest dreams, there were more kids, two or maybe three.
He wanted to get to that point. He wanted Molly to give the family she deserved. To do that, it was time to start righting some wrongs. He had spent enough time thinking about fixing things and not enough time actually fixing them. He was trying to decide where to start when the universe answered the question for him in the form of a text message from his father.
Damon, I need you to be in my office at 10AM.
He sighed and tapped out a reply confirming he would be there. He ran a hand over his face after he put phone down on the countertop. It was never good when his father summoned him to his office.
But this time, he knew he hadn't done anything wrong.
Giuseppe whistled to himself as he made his way down the hall, eyes on his phone. He didn't want an iPhone at first, but the times had demanded he upgrade from his flip phone and now he didn't know how he had lived without one. He rounded the doorframe of his office, chuckling at a photo Elena had sent him of Molly.
"Pretty nifty little gadget there, isn't it?"
Giuseppe jumped, startled. Damon was seated behind his desk, smirking, his elbows on the chair arms, fingertips tented together. It was the same pose Giuseppe assumed nearly every time he had a visitor to his office, an old force of habit that Damon had seemingly inherited.
"You're early," he said, placing his phone and laptop case on the desk.
"You're tech savvy," Damon countered. "What with you iPhone and MacBook and all."
"I have an iPad in here, too," Giuseppe said, indicating his laptop case. "You and Stefan aren't the only Salvatores hip with the times." Damon chuckled and stood to give his father his chair. Giuseppe raised an eyebrow. "You are in a good mood," he observed, moving to take his seat.
"My kid is calling me 'Daddy' and I think I might have a chance at getting her mom back," Damon replied, taking a seat across from his father's desk. "There's no reason not to be in a good mood." Giuseppe gave him a curious look as he went about removing his laptop from the case. The Damon sitting across from him was reminiscent of a Damon from many years ago. It was good to see that side of him again. It was good to see a Damon he recognized.
"Sounds like things are going well," Giuseppe said carefully.
"Well enough," Damon amended. He fixed his father with a look eerily similar to one Giuseppe had perfected. "Which makes for an excellent segue. What's going on? Why I am I here? I don't think I have done anything to warrant being called to the principal's office. I've been on my best behavior for weeks. Why else would Elena allow me to spend time with Molly? Or with her, for that matter?"
"You haven't done anything," Giuseppe confirmed. "But, there is something I want to talk to you and your brother about. He should be here any minute now." Damon frowned.
"Is everything okay?" he asked. "I mean, are you okay? Mom?" Giuseppe tilted his head slightly, studying Damon again, a bit taken back by the genuine worry he heard in his eldest son's voice. He was so used to hearing biting words from Damon before he stormed off in a fury. Againn, he was reminded of the son he had known several years ago.
"Your mother and I are fine," he answered. "This is racing stuff." The sound of a door closing sounded, followed by footsteps growing louder. "I'll bet that's Stefan." Moments later, Stefan appeared.
"Hey," he greeted, stopping in the doorway.
"Little brother," Damon replied with a nod. "How's the wife?" Once more, surprise registered in the room, this time on Stefan's face. Giuseppe looked on, somewhere between curious and amused at the exchange.
"She's good," Stefan answered, almost suspiciously. "I left her pinning photos of nurseries she likes."
"Have fun with that," Damon quipped. As envious as he was of his little brother for getting to be a part of his child's life from the very beginning, he didn't envy him the part of having to deal with Caroline throughout the process of decorating a nursery.
"Have a seat," Giuseppe directed. "We've got a few things to discuss." Damon could tell by the way Stefan's eyes flickered to his father and then to him that Stefan didn't know any more than he did.
"What's going on?" Stefan asked after taking the last available chair in the office. Giuseppe took a deep breath and turned to Damon.
"First, how are you feeling?"
"I'm good," Damon replied. "I've got an appointment with my doctor this afternoon so he can clear me to race this weekend, but I'm fine. Just standard protocol." Giuseppe nodded.
"Good," he said. "There is something you need to know about what happened Saturday night." Damon frowned. He knew his father and Stefan had disappeared somewhere after the race and hadn't turned up for hours. He hadn't really given it much thought, too wrapped up in Molly, but now, his gut told him something was off.
"I'm listening," he said.
"Stefan took a look at your car after race," Giuseppe began. "He found a couple things of interest." He looked at Stefan to continue. Damon looked at him as well.
"I had a gut feeling something was off," Stefan explained. "You know how I am. If something goes wrong with a car, I have to pick it apart to figure out how to make it not happen again. So, I started looking over it. The hydration system's water tank had a puncture hole in it that looked to be about the size of a standard Phillips screwdriver. Enzo said he filled the tank and placed it in the car and it definitely wasn't leaking. I kept poking around and it looks like someone cut the wires to your cooling system in half. It was a clean cut, learly done by a sharp blade." Damon frowned.
"Someone sabotaged me," he stated.
"It looks that way," Stefan confirmed. "I couldn't prove it, but I think someone tampered with what was supposed to be your engine at Martinsville, too. I got Mason to swap engines with my team last minute, remember? I thought both cars would run better. And they did, until Matt wrecked you and Jeff's engine blew." Damon's frown deepened.
"Matt…," he started, his anger growing.
"We brought it to NASCAR's attention," Giuseppe hurried on, trying to keep Damon calm. "They have launched an investigation, but they are trying to keep it under wraps. We don't want it to get out that we suspect someone of tampering with your car."
"It was Matt," Damon said heatedly. "Who the hell else would it be? That guy hates me. He has always hated me."
"We can't prove anything," Stefan said calmly. "We just have suspicions."
"What are we going to do about it?" Damon demanded. "Are you just going to let him get away with it?"
"Like your brother said, we can't prove anything," Giuseppe countered. "But, we're going to take some precautions while NASCAR investigates."
"I'll tell you what we're going to do. We're going to…"
"You, Damon, aren't going to do anything," Giuseppe warned him in a stern tone. "You have four more races left of your probation and dammit, you have come too far to screw up now. Think of your little girl. Think of Elena. If you do something rash, you will regret it."
Damon forced himself to take a deep breath. His father was right. He had come too far to screw up now, even if the only thing he wanted to do right then was wring Matt's neck, whether he was the guilty party or not.
"So, what kind of precautions are we going to take?" he asked bitterly. Giuseppe nodded, relieved. He knew Damon wanted to do anything but sit back on his heels, but he was going to do what was best for the situation which was to, in fact, sit back on his heels and let the officials handle it. For now, at least. Giuseppe took a deep breath.
"You and Mason aren't working out so well," he started. Stefan stayed quite, not sure what his father's plan was. He thought he was right in assuming that he wasn't going to tell Damon of their suspicions about Mason. Damon might be willing to let Matt go free for the moment, but he didn't think Damon would sit around idly if he knew about their suspicions surrounding Mason.
"We have had our issues," Damon agreed. "But, I guess we're doing okay, all in all. We've won a race and have finished well more often than not."
"Ric and Enzo are why you're doing okay," Giuseppe said. "They were with you for a long time. They know you."
"They do."
"At this moment, you are the best driver Salvatore Racing has on the track," Giuseppe continued. He suppressed a grin as he watched Damon fight back a smirk. He knew his son was enjoying proving them wrong. And he himself was happy to be wrong. "Jeff is out for the season and Martin, well, he's fairing well enough, but you're still edging him out. Right now, you are the only driver we have in The Chase."
"And?" Damon pressed. Giuseppe looked from Damon to Stefan and back again. Stefan leaned forward, listening intently.
"And, I'm going to make some changes in assignments," Giuseppe told them in what the brothers had long come to recognize as his 'boss' tone as opposed to his 'dad' tone. "I'm moving Stefan over to your team." Stefan and Damon looked each other.
"I'm going to be Damon's crew chief?" Stefan asked.
"Stefan is going to be my crew chief?" Damon asked at the same time. Giuseppe nodded.
"Can the two of you manage that?" he asked. The brothers quickly glanced at one another.
"I think so," Damon said.
"Absolutely," Stefan echoed.
"I'm trusting that you can," Giuseppe said with a note of warning. "We keep this quiet today. I'll call a meeting with the teams tomorrow morning to make the announcement."
"Wait, what happens to Mason?" Damon asked.
"He goes over to Stefan's team," Giuseppe answered.
"But…," Stefan started, not liking that Mason was going to be put in charge of a team of people he cared about. Giuseppe cut him off.
"You can't be crew chief on both team," he reminded him. "Damon is our best driver right now, and I need our best crew chief with him. This is the best move for everyone." Stefan shut his mouth. He wanted Mason gone from Salvatore, but it seemed like his father was playing by another set of rules. "Any questions?" Again, Damon and Stefan looked at one another before turning back to their father.
"No, sir," they both replied. Giuseppe nodded once in reply. Stefan turned to Damon.
"Ready to get started?" he asked. "There is a lot to do before Dover."
"Not today," Giuseppe interjected before Damon could answer. "No one else is here. Monday is our day off. You two go home, rest up. Especially you, Damon. Like Stefan said, there is plenty to do for the Dover race – starting tomorrow." His tone left no room for argument. "Now, get out of here. I'm going to do a couple of things before I go back home to your mother."
Damon and Stefan knew they were being dismissed. They stood, mumbled goodbyes to their father, and left the office. They wandered down the hall, not speaking until they stopped in front of the door to the stairwell.
"You actually heading home?" Damon asked. Stefan shrugged.
"I know Dad said to go home, but I think I'm going to download the data on your cars from over the last few races and look at what we've got from previous races at Dover to get an idea on where to start with the car set up."
"The car I ran at Atlanta was damn good," Damon told him. "I finished third, couldn't quite hang with the 48 and the 12 did a thorough job of keeping me from getting around him, even though I was faster. Take a look at that one. With a few adjustments, I think we could be a contender at Dover with that car, especially since it's a night race." Stefan nodded.
"That was a fast car," he recalled. "Good for short tracks. That's not a bad idea."
"Okay," Damon agreed. He thought of something Elena had suggested and decided now was as good of a time as any to do it. "I'm going to go work on the Camaro for a little bit. I could use some help – if you can put the car data down long enough." Stefan looked at him.
"Really?" he asked. Damon picked up on the hopeful undertones in Stefan's voice. He nodded.
"Yeah," he said. "I mean, there's a lot of parts and pieces to put together and you know all about that stuff so, why not?" He felt like a bumbling teenager, asking the most popular girl in school on a date.
"Let's see what we're working with," Stefan said, trying to sound nonchalant. Damon nodded and cracked a small grin.
"Come on, little brother. Let's build a car."
"I can't believe you did all of this by yourself," Stefan commented as he worked on Damon's engine. "This is going to be one hell of a muscle car when its finished."
"That's the goal," Damon replied, working diligently on a complex mass of car parts across from Stefan.
"The Dart intake manifold was a good call," Stefan continued, looking over the part in his hand. "They make the best intakes out there for high performance muscle cars."
"I got Dart heads too," Damon said. "I paid dearly for them."
"You get what you pay for," Stefan quipped. "This thing might be able to beat my Porsche in the quarter mile after all." Damon smirked, not only because it was true that his Camaro would eventually be able to easily beat Stefan's car in a drag race, but because Stefan sounded like a kid in a candy story, his hands covered in grease as he looked over each and every part of Damon's Camaro with bright-eyed curiosity. "When did you have the time to do all of this, anyway?" Stefan asked. "I mean, with your injuries and the race season and all…"
"This garage bay is a good place to think," Damon answered. "God knows I've had plenty to think about over the last few months."
"That's the Salvatore in us," Stefan mused. "We always turn to the garage and cars when things get tough." Damon pursed his lips.
"Is that why you spend so much time around here?" he asked. "To think?" Stefan looked at him, surprised someone had noticed he was spending even more time than usual at Salvatore Racing.
"It's race season," he said, trying to deflect. "I'm supposed to spend a lot of time here. What with Jeff's bad breaks – no pun intended, given his injury – and my prototype still in development, I have put in a lot of time analyzing data and trying to figure out how to be better." At least that was the line he told Caroline. Damon raised an eyebrow.
"Caroline bite that hook?" he asked. Stefan sighed and put down his wrench.
"Usually," he admitted. Damon put down his own wrench, stood, and moved the overturned milk crate he was sitting on so he could see Stefan better. Once he was seated again, he fixed his gaze on Stefan.
"I have had a fair amount of experience with things like regret and self-loathing," he told him. "I'm pretty well-versed in poor decision making and dealing with the consequences of those decisions. That makes me a pretty decent guy to talk to when things get tough, all things considered." Stefan sighed and rubbed a grimy hand over his face. It hit him then that Damon, despite everything, actually was the best one to talk to about what he was dealing with.
"I'm going be a dad," he confessed. "In about five months, I'm going to have a kid. I'm freaking the hell out."
"Just think," Damon quipped, "you feel like this and you have had time to prepare yourself for it." Stefan sighed and dropped his head to his hands. Damon felt a twinge of guilt. He hadn't meant it as a jab at his brother, but he realized it sounded that way. He scrambled to cover his tracks. "That came out wrong. What I'm saying is that you feel this way now – freaking out about having a kid that is still several months away from its due date. I felt the same way when I found out about Molly. It's one hell of a mind trip to go from being a carefree, swinging bachelor to a father in the span of a family breakfast. You have got time to prepare yourself, though. I didn't. I was suddenly a dad."
"You managed it," Stefan pointed out. "I see you with Molly, Damon. You are a good father. That little girl adores you." Damon scoffed at the compliment. He felt far from a good father most of the time.
"I have no idea what I'm doing," he admitted to Stefan. "I'm pretty good at the fun stuff – playing with her, reading her bedtime stories, feeding her when she's hungry. But, disciplining her? That's all Elena. Molly turns those blue eyes on me and her mouth does this little pout thing and it's all I can do to stand my ground and not give in. The first few times I gave her a bath, it looked like Noah's flood hit the bathroom. I never brush her hair because honestly, I forget she needs it brushed. Besides, I know nothing about doing hair in the first place. I let her pick out her own clothes because it's easier than trying to figure out what matches. Elena doesn't know it, but the other day, when I took her to school, I stopped to get gas and she asked for gummy bears. I bought her a bag and let her eat the whole thing before she got to school. All before 8 AM." Damon smirked. "She got a note home from the teacher that day about her behavior." Stefan chuckled.
"I worry about her constantly," Damon continued. "Is she happy? Is she healthy? Is she learning things in school? Does she have everything she needs? Is she developing the way she's supposed to be? She spent all that time in the NICU and she's small for her age, you know? What does she think of me? She likes me now, but what about down the road, when she finds out why I wasn't there when she was born? What will she think of me when she finds out some of the things I've done over the years? It's a constant worry. I used to get so frustrated with Mom, the way she fusses over us, making sure we get enough to eat and telling us to get a haircut. Now, I get it. It's what you do when you're a parent. You worry about your kid."
"Are you going somewhere with this?" Stefan asked. "Because really, you're just making me that much more nervous." Damon chuckled.
"What I'm trying to say is that being a parent is completely and entirely terrifying. But, it is also the single greatest thing that has ever happened to me. And it's going to be the single greatest thing that ever happens to you. It's always going to be terrifying. But, once your kid is here and its looking up at you – there is a kind of love there that just makes everything – okay. Worth it. I can't explain it, but you will experience it for yourself soon enough." Stefan gave him a long look and then shook his head.
"You look like Damon, but you sure as hell don't sound like him."
"This is the stuff I think about when I'm in this bay, working on my Camaro," Damon told him. "Have you told Caroline how you feel?" Stefan shook his head.
"I don't want to upset her," he said. "She's always been a little high strung, but add pregnancy hormones to it…"
"Talk to her," Damon interrupted. "You will feel better if you do. I bet she's probably scared to death, too. Maybe even more so than you. Trust me, no good comes from leaving things unsaid."
"I guess you're right," Stefan agreed. "I'll talk to her. Don't be surprised if I show up on your doorstep, asking if I can crash on your couch for the night, though." Damon could count on one hand the number of times Stefan had been in his apartment since he moved in just before Christmas, and he didn't even need all five fingers.
"The couch is yours whenever you need it," Damon replied. "Honestly, it would be nice to have the company. My place gets kind of quiet." Stefan looked at his brother, reading between the lines.
"You mean it gets lonely?" he asked.
"I spend a lot of time alone," Damon told him with a shrug of his shoulders. "That week or so I spent with Elena after her parents died? I got used to the sound of Molly running around, Elena calling for her to eat breakfast or find her backpack. At my place, I've got nothing but hundreds of satellite TV channels to keep me company. I turned on that damn Caillou show to have some noise in the background the other day. You're going to hate that show, by the way. I want to punch that kid in the face five minutes in, but Molly loves it."
"Duly noted," Stefan said with a hint of a grin. He picked up his wrench and returned to work. There was something else he needed to ask Damon. "So, in all seriousness, are you good with me being your crew chief again? Dad kind of sprung it on us…"
Damon took his time forming an answer.
"I've told you before, you're the best damn crew chief I have ever had. I know our personal relationship has some – issues – but we work well together. Or, at least, we used to. I'm willing to put aside our personal problems when there is a racecar in front of us if you are." Stefan nodded.
"I am," he agreed. He shifted around uncomfortably on his milk crate. "Look, Damon, I've been thinking about your apology a lot. I'm not there, yet, but I think we're moving in the right direction. I just need…"
"Time," Damon finished. "Everyone needs time." He was proud of himself for managing to keep his frustrations under wraps. He understood that everyone needed time, but he wanted his life back. Or, rather, he wanted to move forward with is life, with his family, his daughter, and Elena.
"I need time," Stefan confirmed. He once more resumed working. "So, you and Elena? How is that working out?" Damon, too, resumed working, deciding to be honest.
"She knows I still having feelings for her," he said. "But, like you, she needs time. We haven't talked about anything. Our conversations tend to revolve around safe topics like Molly and racing. But, she knows how I feel and she knows I want her back." Stefan let out a low whistle.
"Its pretty obvious you still love her, but I honestly didn't expect you to be that forward with her."
"I wasn't planning on being direct, but she overheard a conversation between Dad and I the night of her parents' funeral. We have a lot to talk about, but right now, all I can do is show her I've changed, be a good father to Molly, and prove that she can trust me."
"I think you're doing just fine on all accounts," Stefan mused. "Caroline shrieks and says things like 'but, it's Damon!' a lot these days when she's talking to Elena. Although, I think she might be coming around a little bit with that whole witnessing Molly call you 'daddy' for the first time thing." Damon cracked a sheepish grin.
"Elena talks to Caroline about me?" he asked. Stefan looked at him, his eyes twinkling.
"You have it so bad," he teased. Damon snorted.
"Shut up, and hand me that socket wrench by your left hand." Stefan laughed as he passed the tool to Damon. Even as Damon took it, he knew he didn't have a counter argument. He really did have it bad.
Elena turned the page her book, enjoying the solitude. Molly was in bed and sleeping soundly. She had caught up on household chores, ran a number of errands, and even managed to get her hair trimmed. Now, she was curled up in her bed with a new book, a steaming cup of peppermint tea on her nightstand. These moments of absolute peace and quiet were far and few between, so she made it a point to soak it in.
Her phone rang, breaking the silence. She picked the phone up and looked at the caller ID. It was Damon. She wondered why he was calling so late as she tapped the screen to answer.
"Hey," she greeted.
"Hey," Damon replied. Somehow, Elena could tell from just the sound of his voice that he too was comfortable, either in bed or on his couch for the night. "I didn't wake you, did I? I know it's getting late."
"You didn't wake me," Elena confirmed. "I'm reading and enjoying a cup of tea."
"Then I'll apologize for disturbing you," he said. She could hear the teasing note in his voice. "Is Molly asleep? I know it's past her bedtime."
"She went down about an hour ago," Elena confirmed. "Without a fight, even. I love dance class days." Damon chuckled.
"I missed her today," he admitted.
"She asked about you," Elena told him. "She wanted to know where Daddy is racing this weekend." Damon smiled on his end of the phone.
"She's still referring to me as Daddy?" he asked. He was terrified she would go back to calling him "Day-mun."
"She is," Elena answered. "It's sweet. And I know it makes you happy."
"It does," Damon admitted. "I love that little girl, Elena." Elena smiled.
"I know you do," she said. And she did. She had no doubt that Damon loved Molly more than anything. "She loves you too, Damon." On his end of the phone, Damon smiled softly. "Is everything okay?" Elena prodded, trying to figure out the real reason for Damon's phone call. He sighed softly.
"Have you talked to my dad today?" he asked.
"No," Elena answered. "He sent me a few emails about sponsors and marketing, and a couple of meeting requests, but that was earlier. You know Mondays are a slow day at headquarters."
"Well, most Mondays are," Damon countered. Elena frowned, picking up on something in Damon's voice that put her on alert.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"Well, Dad will fill you in tomorrow, probably first thing, but as of this morning, Stefan is officially my crew chief." There was a long pause as Elena took in what Damon said.
"Stefan is your crew chief?" she repeated. "Why? What happened to Mason?"
"Mason is taking over Stefan's team," he said. "NASCAR is investigating the car I drove Saturday night. Someone tampered with it. The hydration system's water tank was punctured and the wires to my cooling system were cut in half." Elena gasped and sat up in bed.
"Someone sabotaged your car?" she asked.
"It seems that way. Stefan looked over it after they took me to the infield care center and found the puncture and sliced wires."
"Who…"
"Matt," Damon interrupted. "I have no doubt that Matt is involved. I doubt he did the dirty work himself, but I'm sure he's behind it all the same. Dad moved Stefan over to my team as a 'precaution' and said something about wanting the best crew chief with the team performing best, but I think there's more going on."
"Like what?" Elena pressed.
"I don't know," Damon admitted. "It's just a feeling I have – like Dad isn't telling me the whole truth."
"Have you asked him?" Elena asked point blank.
"Well, no," Damon said. "It all happened pretty fast. Stefan knew about the tampering, but I don't think he knew Dad was going to move him over to my team. He looked as surprised as I did."
"Are you okay with it?" Elena asked carefully. "I know you and Stefan are still on pretty rocky ground."
"I'm good with it," Damon answered. "Stefan is one of the best crew chiefs on the circuit and I know he won't let that car roll without looking it over front to back, tread to tread. He knows what he's doing and he knows my team. We're going to win races together." Elena smiled.
"I like the conviction in your voice," she told him. Damon chuckled half-heartedly.
"I want my brother back," he confessed. "Having him as a crew chief is a good step in the right direction."
"It is," Elena agreed. She heard the optimism in Damon's voice. "So, did you need anything?" she asked. Damon shrugged, even though Elena couldn't see him.
"I wanted to tell you about Stefan," he said. It was that simple. Elena had once been the person he called when he had news or needed to talk. He had been wanting to call her all day, tell her about the NASCAR investigation and the change in crew chiefs, confess his worries that there was something else going on that he wasn't privy to.
"Is that all?" Elena prompted. She knew there was more. One side of Damon's lips curled up into a grin.
"I wanted to talk to you," he admitted. "About nothing in particular. I just wanted to – talk to you." Elena smiled, feeling the butterflies in her stomach flutter. She realized in that moment that she had given up on pushing them down. She leaned back into her pillows.
"Then talk to me," she prompted. Damon bit his lip, thinking of something to tell her.
"Well, I tried to cook my own dinner tonight," he said. Elena grinned.
"Yeah?" she asked. "What did you try to make?"
"One of those frozen chicken and broccoli alfredo deals," he said. "One of those things that you are supposed to just open and dump the contents in a pan and eat it ten minutes later."
"Supposed to?"
"I just finished takeout from The Grill," Damon admitted. "I somehow managed to burn it to a crisp." Elena laughed.
"It's a frozen meal, Damon," she teased. "It shouldn't be that hard."
"I beg to differ."
With a smile, Elena burrowed further into her pillows, launching into a step-by-step explanation on how to make a simple chicken and broccoli alfredo that didn't come frozen. She It was only after she hung up that she realized they hadn't talked about Molly or racing or any of the problems they were facing and instead, enjoyed just talking to one another, like they had when they were dating.
She turned her lamp off and went to bed with a smile on her face.
A bit of a filler chapter but not really? Stefan and Damon's relationship has really become a focal point over these few chapters. So much good stuff coming. I wouldn't say we're nearing the end, exactly, but we are coming to the big climax - Talladega - in another chapter or two. I've been working on it and I'm so pleased with how its turning out. I can't wait to share it with you!
Let me know what you think!