Author's note: I'm beyond ecstatic about the response this fanfic has received! When I first started writing it, I never thought that I would find it so captivating, but it just took on a life of its own – in the best way! I would say that out of all the stories I'm currently writing, I probably feel the strongest bout of inspiration for this one – probably because it really lets me play in the sci-fi playground and let those instincts loose! :D
There's always a degree of vulnerability that comes with posting creative work – because it's the soul laid bare – so hearing it validated really means worlds. I appreciate you all very much. Thank you for your attention, your kindness, and love.
Elena was struggling to get her bearings after what she had just overheard, when both Damon and Bonnie bounded into the room she was occupying – the library. She had fallen in love with the expansive collection of classics owned by the Salvatores almost immediately but was even more charmed and surprised by some contemporary choices she found squirreled away in decidedly not corresponding corners. Since when did The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy belong in the 'healthy eating' section – and why would two vampires even care about maintaining a vibrant human diet, unless the purpose of storing this literary contraband was precisely to hide it from the other?
She knew from their long talks that Stefan was the historian of the two brothers – always quick to reference famous accounts through which he lived and those that predated him– sometimes in a truly spectacular way in class, guaranteed to shut their bully of a teacher down immediately.
Damon's preferences were a mystery to her, however, but something inside her told her that this particular novel was his, and he took great pains to hide this fact from his brother, which managed to tease a smile onto her lips before she caught herself. She examined the book in her hand. Stefan favored the historical significance of first editions. This was just a book – more favored for its contents than the representation of an old tome – as old as one can be when first produced in the 1970s, anyway. The push for the innovation, the desire the unconventional, the boldly undiscovered – something about that screamed "Damon" to her.
Before she could ruminate properly on the discovery and her even more baffling reaction to it, the two intruders rounded on her excitedly, their eyes wide with conviction and purpose. In Bonnie's hand was a tumbler, evidently containing some kind of cocktail.
"You have to drink Damon's blood, Elena!" Bonnie all but shouted, taking her hands and shoving the cocktail into one, which Elena deduced was a mixture containing Damon's blood and probably some fruit-flavored juice or something to that effect to dilute the flavor.
Elena instinctively backed away, alarmed by the passion in her friend's voice and her insistence, refusing to take the offending glass. Yes, Elena knew objectively that eavesdropping was bad, but she also was given to curiosity – perhaps too much. After all, it was her insatiable curiosity that propelled her investigation into Stefan's true nature – maneuvering her way into a police station and sneakily watching compilations of evidence to mentally assemble the conclusion that he was, in fact, a vampire.
Her latest bout of curiosity-based misbehavior led to her discovering a rather unsettling fact – drinking Damon's blood would force her future consciousness to merge with that of her present – and both Bonnie and Damon seemed gleeful at the notion of their version of Elena swiftly returning.
And this made her feel cold, and alone, and unloved. Was Bonnie really so eager to get rid of her? Damon, she could understand – apparently this version of Elena loved him with her whole being. But Bonnie has been her best friend since childhood.
Elena's face dropped at her friend's words immediately, and a part of her that she didn't want to admit was immature and stubborn crossed her arms determinedly, refusing to cooperate. Damon's face was unreadable, Elena noted.
"I deserve to be a part of this body just as much as she does," Elena huffed impatiently, to Bonnie's shocked face, who had clearly not expected this response.
"You would be, Elena. It's a merge. Your future self is not replacing you," Bonnie stressed.
"Why are you so eager to get rid of me?" Elena asked, her eyes narrowing at her friend, then immediately springing to Damon. "You, I get. She loves you apparently," she shot at him, unable to resist adding, "for some reason," even though there was an increasing part of her that could see exactly why, not that she was even remotely prepared to acknowledge it.
She was hurt. There, she admitted it. Why was this future Elena so much better than her? A part of her realized that she was probably being immature, but he was seventeen, and that meant that she sometimes reserved the right to not rise above it all. Heaven knew that with the death of her parents, she had to grow up entirely too quickly – practically becoming Jeremy's guardian, since Jenna, for all her efforts, was only partly successful at the task. It hadn't been fair to Jenna either, Elena reasoned – since her aunt's priorities before becoming their stand-in parent usually revolved around dancing the night away at the next rager, not parent-teacher conferences and breakfast before school.
Considering the massive personality shift required of her, Elena had to admit her aunt pulled quite the self-transformation miracle, placing the well-being of her niece and nephew even above her insatiable hunt for a night of fun. It wasn't everyone that could drink Kelly Donovan under the table and impress her with her wild ways.
"We're not trying to get rid of you, Elena," Damon finally spoke with measured patience after observing the exchange. "We're just –"
"Yes, you are!" Elena shot back.
"Oh, enough of this," announced a bored Enzo who seemed to materialize out of nowhere. "This is becoming tedious," he added with a pronounced roll of his eyes, as he swiftly removed Elena's vervain necklace, ignoring the sting when he touched its center. His eyes connected with hers. "Have a drink, gorgeous." he said, handing her the tumbler.
The compelled Elena took a sip and immediately her eyes became wide and unfocused.
"What the hell, Enzo?" Damon exclaimed. "We would have convinced her."
"No, I'm with him on this," Bonnie defended, extending her palm for a high-five to the confused Enzo, who hadn't seen this gesture previously. Amused, she took his hand and slapped her own with it. "I've lost patience with this endeavor several rounds ago. And you would have, too," she told Damon pointedly, "if it had been literally anyone else."
"Hope is the thing with feathers," Elena finally spoke in a dreamy, almost otherworldly tone, as she looked at Damon, then Bonnie, then Damon again. "It perches in the soul," she breathed slowly approaching Damon.
"Why is she quoting Emily Dickinson at me?" Damon inquired, not sure how to address the oddly behaving body of his maybe-future-girlfriend.
"It sings the song without the words," Elena continued as though he hadn't spoken. "And never stops – at all."
"Are you okay, Elena?" Damon whispered, taking the chance to gently cup her face when she came impossibly close to him.
"Anna… help," she gasped, before squeezing her eyes shut to the alarm of everyone in the room, as the younger Elena's new memories of the last few hours stormed her consciousness. As their panicked voices reverberated through the space, Elena's expressively dark eyes slowly blinked open, finding themselves locked with a pair of eyes so brilliant and blue, she found they placed the summer sky to shame.
"I love you," she smiled at Damon, gently taking his face in her hands. She moved to kiss his cheek, and then his lips, then hovered over his ear to whisper, "It'll always be you," determined to erase the pain his younger self must have caused him while she was – wherever it was that she was. She frowned, trying to ascertain the unique feeling of having felt everything and nothing all at once – knowing all and then having that knowledge immediately disappear – but then shook it off. There were more pressing matters at hand.
"Is this making you uncomfortable?" Enzo asked Bonnie cheekily, having evidently procured a bag of popcorn from somewhere in the kitchen in the short span of time since he compelled Elena to drink Damon's blood. "It's making me very uncomfortable."
"What is that?" Bonnie frowned, grabbing the bag from his hands, then contorting her features in disgust when she examined it. "Ew, Enzo! This expired two years ago!"
"Vampire constitution," he grinned. "Built strong," he leered suggestively, though Bonnie was still evidently focused on the aging bag of snacks that she promptly went to dispose of, partly to give her friends some privacy, knowing that Damon was unlikely to allow himself vulnerability in front of an audience, and would sincerely regret his current display.
Finally remembering the others in the room, Damon took Elena's hand, and led her to one of the upstairs bedrooms for some privacy. The Sun that finally rose shone brilliantly through the window, illuminating the shining brown of her locks, her chocolate eyes sparkling with flecks of golden honey – glowing with her love for him. Damon thought she had never looked more resplendent.
"Are you okay?" Damon reiterated his earlier question.
"I am now," she smiled through the emotion building in her voice. "Thank you for saving me earlier – for never doubting me – for everything."
"Hey, you did plenty," Damon praised. "Very impressive punch, for someone who'd never been trained. I think you sent some teeth loose."
She grinned roguishly in response, preening under the compliments. "Sadly, looks like no Tooth Fairy donations from the Creepy Senior and Junior."
"Elena?" he breathed, as his vision blurred from a warm liquid gathered in his eyes. "My Elena? I was afraid I'd never see you again."
"Always yours, my Damon," she whispered, her own eyes shining with matching tears, as she pulled him into an ardent kiss, and the suspicious moisture was finally released to mingle on their cheeks.
Stefan seethed as he paced the parlor of the Boarding House only a short while later. Not only was Damon ignoring his calls, but Elena's phone was dead. He tried to calm the rush of anxiety that flooded his very being. Where were they? What if Damon was hurting her?
As though in answer to his query, he heard a thump on the house's front door, which he immediately opened to find an arrow, with a package below it. He looked around, extending his senses to listen for any possible signs of life, but all he felt were the animals of the forest. Whoever left this used the arrow to draw his attention while avoiding getting close to risk being caught.
The took the package inside, horrified to find a collection of photographs, all of Elena and Damon standing by a bedroom window. Some had them gazing into each other's eyes; in others, they were ardently kissing. He narrowed his eyes, rage filling him when he saw a marker circling her clavicle in the photos – one that was distinctly not wearing her vervain necklace.
His hand, trembling with rage, reached into the package to pull out a peculiar set of weapons. One was a stake with a curious logo carved into it – a mysterious symbol with six arms extending outwardly. The other was a bag containing what appeared to be darts with attached capsules of liquid that smelled like vervain.
"Where'd you get that?" Anna's voice asked over his shoulder, almost causing Stefan to jump. He'd been so engrossed at his rage in finding out about his brother's misdeeds that he hadn't heard her sneak in. "Been playing professional peeing tom?" she quipped, picking up the photos, and cycling through them. "Very emotionally evocative work, Stefan. If this whole brooding gig doesn't work out, you've got a future as a photographer."
"I didn't take those," he shot back. "But look," he added, pointing to the circle on each photograph indicating that Elena wasn't wearing her vervain necklace. "He's been compelling her."
"She doesn't look compelled to me," Anna frowned, recalling the text message she received the night before. "Look here," she placed one of the photos in Stefan's hand. "Look at her eyes. They're not dull or spaced with compulsion. She looks very alert. She looks – in love," she softened at the realization, then shook her head. "You can't compel that, and you know it."
"She's clearly crying in this photograph," Stefan pressed, pointedly ignoring Anna's words, while searching for incriminating evidence. There was no way Anna was right, Stefan mentally insisted – absolutely no way. He knew Elena, and how she felt about Damon. But this was low, even for him.
"Is Damon crying, too?" she asked, exploding with laughter. "Oh, this is the best blackmail material. I never thought I'd see the day. I'm keeping this one."
"He's pretending," he stressed through clenched teeth.
"Yeah, I don't think so. He's got no reason to – especially if she's compelled, as you say. So, either John Varvatos announced a swift end to his clothing line forevermore, or your big bro is genuinely overwhelmed by what looks like a very positive emotion. I wonder what happened next," she couldn't resist teasing cheekily, possibly just to watch the vein pop on Stefan's head, then sobered when she looked at the weapons placed on the table. "What are these?"
"They came with the photographs. I think the darts are filled with vervain. Not sure what's supposed to be special about this stake, though," Stefan replied, losing patience with Anna and her nonchalant attitude.
"You're being set up," Anna concluded flatly. "Look, someone sent me a text the night before last to go watch Elena with your brother – clearly trying to get a reaction out of me," she informed, to Stefan's horrified gaze at hearing that they were together then as well. Expecting an interruption, Anna decided to plow ahead before Stefan could ask any of his predictable questions. "Something's up, Stefan. Don't react emotionally to this. Someone is clearly trying to benefit from all of us being at each other's throats," she concluded. Seeing that she was unlikely to make any headway in changing his mind, Anna grabbed the stake with the mysterious symbol before Stefan could use it and blurred out of the house. Something about the window in those photographs looked familiar – and she had a feeling she knew exactly where it was.
Sometime later, the four unusual housemates found themselves paired up in mostly different areas of the house. Damon had yet to have the conversation with Enzo that had been overdue some decades, but he reasoned that the day's tumultuous events bought him a bit of time.
Meanwhile, Bonnie seemed to be taking some pleasure in playing discordant notes on her new-old acoustic guitar in the library, watching with amusement as Enzo flinched with each offending strum, his supernaturally-sensitive musical ears positively rebelling against her self-contained cacophony.
He could have sighed with audible relief when he saw a giggling Elena enter, followed by a beaming Damon, since their arrival might at the very least put an end to the worst concert that refused to end.
At least they seemed to be having fun.
Elena stopped directly in front of him, tilting her head to the side in a decidedly Damon-esque way to study him, the smirk on her lips widening as she caught sight of Bonnie with her guitar. "You get a pass, just this once," Elena said, playfully wagging her finger at Enzo, though there was a certain sternness to her tone. "Don't do it again."
"Or what?" Enzo grinned. "You'll pick up the drums and bass, and start the worst band ever to melt my brain?"
"Maybe!" Elena shot back. "I'll play the triangle. And Damon can borrow my squeaky recorder from elementary school."
"We can be very creative," Damon answered with a growing smirk, suddenly appearing next to Elena, with his arm wrapped around her waist. "Ever have your favorite song ruined by a tone-deaf witch?"
"I heard that!" Bonnie called, to waiting giggles, and Elena ushering Damon out of the room.
"So," she purred when they re-entered the living room. "I hear you've got a bottle of nineteen fifty Chateau Cheval Blanc stashed somewhere. Maybe this time you'll share it," she whispered into this ear, unable to resist an impish smile, "now that I've stopped it with the so-called Steffie-worship."
"Oh, you heard that?" he grinned, to her impish nod. "And here I thought all the fumes from Steffie's hair products rendered human teenage you allergic to breaking etiquette rules like eavesdropping, and just having fun in general. Otherwise, how else put up with the giant stick up his –"
Elena gasped, interrupting, mock-scandalized. "I'll have you know I was very rebellious!" At Damon's dubious look, she playfully bit his neck. "What can I say? My younger self wasn't always the good girl everyone thought she was – which you already know. And we had plenty of fun in Atlanta, "she pointed out. "Maybe I just needed the right influence."
"I might be persuaded to share," Damon murmured, pulling her close and trailing kisses from her jaw to her neck and finally her collarbone.
"Ugh, gross!" Bonnie announced, entering the room. "We have actual rooms with doors that close, guys. Please. Also, I heard you. You're sharing it with me, too."
"Did someone say nineteen fifty Chateau Cheval Blanc?" Enzo asked with marked interest, seemingly materializing out of nowhere. "You know, Damon, giving me that bottle would go a long way to begin making up –"
"The hell I am! You're lucky if you're getting –" Damon interrupted.
"Oh, you are not getting the whole –" Elena exclaimed.
"Four ways!" Bonnie announced over the steadily building cacophony. "To cement our friendship, and partnership," she stressed, glaring at the room's occupants threateningly and daring anyone to contradict a trained Bennet witch, "we are splitting the bottle evenly. Together. Four ways."
"Five," announced Anna, who boldly jumped in through the room's window, and threw the stake onto the table for all to see.
The symbol carved into it elicited visceral reactions from three of the room's occupants, who recognized it immediately: the Brotherhood of the Five.
I struggled to think of modern books (we know that in canon, his favorite book is The Call of the Wild, but that's 1903) that Damon might love and was then immediately taken by The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. I think someone clever like Damon would appreciate fellow ENTP (probably – I've also seen Damon typed as ESTP, but his sense of humor is so Ne-Ti, it almost hurts – and his banter with Elena has "two Nes playing" written all over it, though I think she might be an Ne-aux rather than Ne-Dom – INFP, at least after the series-beginning car accident that sent her into her own head. She may have been more extroverted before that.) Douglas Adams' wit and borderline absurdist path to reveal nuggets of incredibly profound wisdom, all wrapped in a sardonic romp would appeal to his playful side. (I use MBTI to help me write. I don't know if I really buy it for human beings – since we tend to be very complex – but it's great for character development.)
More on where "future" Elena went in the next chapter. This is actually a really big subplot. The only hint I'll give for now is that it's inspired by Plato's Forms.
To borrow an MCU convention: S1 Elena will return.
So, I was straight-up horrified when I saw that Damon drank a bottle of 1950 Chateau Cheval Blanc in S7 and didn't share with his friends. How dare he? :D This must be amended! (I want some, too!) I thought it only fair that he be made to share it. :D
TVD was pretty open about (ESFP) Jenna's wild party girl ways prior to her becoming Elena and Jeremy's guardian, with Kelly Donovan giving it extra praise, so I'm sticking with it. Hey, props to her for stepping up and taking responsibility.
So, either a Hunter is working against them, or someone is working with a Hunter. Or at the very least, this person is aware of Hunters and their symbolism. More on this later. :)
Much love to you all. You're utterly fantastic. Hugs to Kriz03, scarlett2112, and Florencia7, especially, for their unwavering support.
I'm always happy to hear your thoughts, so be sure to leave a review. Cheers! :D