Author's note: I'm humbled by the beautiful response in reviews, follows, and favorites for this story. It began as a show of frustration of Elena's development in S5 but grew into such a delightful tale for me. To see it appreciated really makes my heart swell. Thank you so much, truly.
Chaotic Good is finally finished! I've recently decided, per the suggestion of an AO3 reviewer, to make this story its sequel. They fit so seamlessly together, and I just wasn't ready to let go of that world yet. With that said, there will be references to events in CG in this story. While it's not strictly necessary to read it, since they'll be understandable in context, doing so will probably give you a richer understanding. :D And like any writer, of course I love it when others read my work, ahaha :)
Elena stepped out of lab with an increasing note of anxiety. While trying to concentrate on her own coursework, she couldn't help but overhear several conversations about the mysterious rescues happening on campus. At least this time they weren't planning on filming her to boost their YouTube subscriber count.
Thanks, supernatural senses, she internally mumbled.
The Sun had absolutely no business shining so beautifully on a day she was certain was going to be marred with disaster. Not only were her activities becoming a college newspaper darling, but time was running out to make her confession about her on-campus-and-off antics to Damon, and she could only imagine how he would react.
Lo and behold, the object of her contemplation swiftly crossed the quad to greet her, a rolled-up newspaper in hand and an inscrutable expression on his face. Of their own volition, her arms and legs and very soul rushed to embrace him, greeting him with a passionate kiss, which he enthusiastically returned after only a moment's hesitation.
"I missed you," she breathed, finally pulling back, but maintaining their embrace. Damon's eyes caressed her with an adoring softness that she once thought impossible to associate with Stefan's "bad brother," but recently seemed to almost be their default expression, before he inevitably caught himself and affected a wry, cool demeanor.
"Look, Elena, I can't help it if being with me is addictive," he grinned, lifting his eyebrows seductively. "I tried to warn you. You're far from the first."
"Poor baby," Elena shook her head, an exaggerated expression of pity gracing her features.
"It's hard being this sexy," he purred.
Elena rolled her eyes, playfully smacking him in the chest before Damon caught her hand to place a soft kiss on her palm. "I missed you, too," he whispered tenderly, allowing the vulnerability made Elena's breath forget its way slither into his hushed voice.
All too soon, he pulled back, grinning at her sardonically. "In fact, I missed you so much, that I thought I'd check out the school newspaper, and would you believe it, I found something so interesting that I just had to share it with you."
"Oh, did you?" Elena winced, acutely aware of the latest issue's contents.
"Miracle at the Medical Center?" Damon made a show of unfolding the paper and began to read with exaggerated expression, taking special care to pause for dramatic effect and adjust his tonal inflections to allow for maximum sarcasm. Although his demeanor was undoubtedly playful, she could tell he was watching her carefully whenever his eyes flicked to hers. "Whitmore Medical Center may have its very own guardian angel, as multiple patients in critical condition, suffering from severe wounds and blunt force trauma, were seemingly healed overnight! The authorities at the hospital were reluctant to give the rumor life, however, claiming that although they are testing a groundbreaking new treatment, the speed and efficiency of the patients' recovery have been exceedingly exaggerated. 'The physicians at Whitmore are a dedicated and enthusiastic bunch,' said Whitmore Medical Center Chief of Medicine, Doctor Anthony Sloane, 'but they are not miracle workers in the literal sense. If we had that kind of instant cure, every intelligence agency would be knocking on our door for a dose.' Doctor Sloane's statement is to be taken as official on behalf of the medical center, but when exposed to the smell test, the testimony rings a lot more foul than their the hospital's so-called 'unscented' anti-septic –"
Elena's eyes widened comically as she took an incremental step back, nearly tripping over the rock behind her despite superhuman agility.
"Are you okay, Elena?" Damon inquired, cocking his head to side to study her as he extended his arm to help her up, which she took in her visibly trembling hand.
"Yep," she squeaked. "Just running late for my Calc quiz!"
Damon smiled at her indulgently looking relaxed – so obnoxiously relaxed – as he drew his eyebrows together in very discernable consternation. "But I thought your class started at two?"
"It does!" Elena exclaimed, swallowing thickly and cursing the fact that she wasn't quite as accomplished a liar as certain other immortals she knew. "But my study group decided to meet up beforehand to go over limits!"
"Right before the quiz? Well, don't let me keep you," Damon gestured to the hall where she was scheduled to take her quiz in forty minutes, the very image of magnanimousness, palm up. "Limits are the foundation of derivatives. You'll probably start those next week. Very important."
Elena nodded numbly and scurried away, doing all she could to keep the speed at which she ran at a decidedly human level, as her boyfriend watched her with narrowed eyes that belied the anxiety steadily building within him.
Dr. Wesley Maxfield, or "Wes," as he was called by a handful of colleagues at whom he didn't sneer derisively, was a profoundly busy man. Presently, he was the chief researcher of a top-secret project that had been funded by the university since it was held under the original founder, Dr. Ansel Whitmore.
"Please be brief," Wes announced in lieu of a greeting upon entering Whitmore Medical Center's conference room for its Board of Executives. "As you know, my associates have gone to help install our West Coast office, and all duties to run the Whitmore branch of the Augustine Society have fallen entirely to me."
"I understand, Dr. Maxwell," acquiesced an officious, older man, for whom the very action appeared reprehensible. It was all he could do to steady his breathing lest the protruding vein in his head jump forth from his forehead and strangle the microbiology professor and his smarmy smile of its own volition. "But you'll be interested in our findings."
"Yes?" Wes prompted impatiently.
Grinding his teeth, his interlocutor removed some papers from a chart on the boardroom desk, handing them to Wes. "Have a look at these bloodwork results. We've had a string of miracle recoveries at the hospital over the last week – severe wounds healing overnight – and they all had one thing in common. What does that look like to you?"
"Vampire blood," Wes responded flatly, unnerved. "How did your staff even get it?"
"I'm not sure, but we're conducting an investigation."
"If my supply has been pilfered –"
"Maybe if you kept a better leash on your bloodsucking freaks –"
A knock on the door interrupted both men's overflowing tempers as they shouted over one another, prompting them both to quiet as a young lady, an intern, walked in, if only to maintain secrecy – though judging by their piercing glares, their conversation was far from over.
"Pardon the interruption, Doctor Sloane, Doctor Maxfield. Doctor Anderson is on the line from the Nevada office with an important update."
Taking a deep breath to sink into the role of a polite official, Anthony forced a genial smile on his face, and replaced the papers into the folder. "Please connect them to my office, Shirley. That will be all."
"Investigate this. Now," Wes hissed in lowered tones, and quickly left the office before Dr. Sloane could give the biting retort that so desperately wished to leave his tongue.
Elena felt lighter than air. The quiz had gone extraordinarily well, and her heart was alight with all the beautifully abstract movements of variables yearning to reach their destination – always getting incrementally closer, but never quite touching. The exactness of it filled her with peace, given how tumultuous many other aspects of her life were – a profound relief, a bastion of truth on which to build a foundation.
Her relief was short-lived, however, when she received a text message from Caroline.
Bonnie's mom said she hasn't seen her in months. Time to confront Jeremy. You're up.
Elena inwardly groaned. They knew – they knew something had been going on. Although Bonnie was long overdue to have a bout of irresponsible, free-spirited behavior, she and Caroline had long suspected that her absolute refusal to communicate with them outside of email, while allegedly doing so with Jeremy on a regular basis, was suspicious. On a more confusing note, she couldn't quite shake the dread in her stomach concerning Stefan. Although she finally convinced Damon to seek him out, any tangible results have thus far been lacking. At this point, even he agreed, albeit reluctantly, that this behavior was uncharacteristic of his brother.
A more immediate concern, however, sat on her bed as she entered her room. A casual onlooker would have called him unabashedly comfortable, while a more observant one would have noted the cloud of disappointment around the slight quint of his eyes. Elena, however, who had spent the summer familiarizing herself with his every breath, thought, feeling, expression, nuance – immediately saw what he desperately hoped to hide from her.
Fear.
Damon was afraid. She took a deep breath, approaching him slowly as though that would delay the inevitable, though her eyes were glued to the floor.
"Damon, look. There's something I have to tell you," Elena murmured, finally chancing to look at him. Her breath scarcely left her when she caught the full extent of anxiety and concern welling in his magically blue eyes. She was so afraid that her secret would hurt him.
Dispensing with any fanfare and mercifully cutting her confession short, Damon un-pursed his lips and saved her the trouble. "You're running around Whitmore saving college students by day, and healing hospital patients by night."
So, there you have it! Damon figured it out, wily detective that he is! :D We're now ready to begin the next phase of the story.
I started a new story called Serendipity – that was supposed to be a 1,000-word one-shot and a joke. I've now posted two chapters, and it's nearly 10K words long already – but at least Amara's arc is finally finished. Next up: Tatia, Katherine, and finally Elena (with Damon, yay, because I can't seem to write stories that don't feature him prominently, with POV and all.). It's a tongue-in-cheek AU where Amara meets Silas' sexy older brother and inadvertently saves the universe. I'm sure you can probably guess who said older brother is based on. ;)
I probably mentioned this before, but I make all my female characters good at math (to rail against all those awful stereotypes), unless otherwise vehemently stated in canon. So, you can expect Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline to be absolute aces at it in my stories!
If you like this story, please leave a review! I'm happy to hear any comments or suggestions. I love making new friends in the fandom, so please feel free to send me a message if you ever want to talk about any stories!
Until next time! :)