[fic] To Ride Pegasus - Part 1/?
Title: To Ride Pegasus
Recipient: shipperjunkie
Prompt: Elena+Jeremy+Damon+Alaric: An evening at the Gilbert's set prior to 3x10. Ripper!Stefan not invited, but he might stop by. Extra credit if the story is told from Jeremy's perspective.
Author: fallinangelz21
Characters/Pairings: Um...see prompt. LOL Damon/Elena emphasis w/plenty of Damon/Alaric & Damon/Jeremy bromancing to go around.
Word count: 3,628
Ratings/Warnings: R
Spoilers: Everything through 3.05 "The Reckoning."
Summary: With Ripper!Stefan back in town, the Gilbert 'family' knows the only way to save him is to work together. Easier said than done.
Author's note: I get a big F for short stories, because even though I totally meant for this to be a one-shot, it's turned into a mutli-parter. This fic will stay in S3 canon for the duration. As always, all of the thanks and awards to bamf!Pilar as she will heretofore be known.
To Ride Pegasus
Two days after Stefan tried to use Elena as his own personal blood bag, Damon stood on the steps of the Gilbert front porch, pissed off and contemplating murder. His brother had wasted no time in turning the house into a blood den and while normally Damon would have been all for it, the fact that the Ripper turned Stefan into the worst kind of drunken asshole took most of the fun out of it.
And he was ruining the goddamn rugs.
Valiantly trying to reign in his temper before he saw Elena, Damon took a breath and knocked on the front door. Within seconds, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, breathing a sigh of relief when Jeremy opened the door.
Alaric was still harboring some animosity about the neck-snapping incident.
And given his current mood, snapping his best friend’s neck for the third time just to avoid the anger in his judgy little eyes was a distinct possibility.
“Damon,” the younger man said, a wary expression on his face as he glanced into the yard and scanned the street. Damon couldn’t blame him for being a little edgy. The last time they’d hung out Jeremy had spent most of the time locked up in the trunk of Katherine’s rental car. “What’s going on?”
“Is Elena here?” he asked, taking Jeremy’s slight step backwards as an invitation to enter. The question was pointless - he knew Elena was there. She’d barely left the house since Stefan had interrupted their moment when Damon had brought her home from the hospital.
“Yeah, she’s upstairs,” Jeremy nodded, his brow furrowing in concern. “Is something wrong?”
Damon narrowed his eyes. “Why would something be wrong?”
Jeremy lifted a shoulder. “You’re not usually the bearer of good news.”
Damon tipped his head in acknowledgement of that fact, smirking as the human shut the door and leaned against it, crossing his arms and raising a brow in expectation. Reaching into his pocket, Damon pulled out a small, velvet drawstring pouch. “Today is an exception,” he revealed, dangling it in front of the younger man.
“What is that?” Jeremy asked, reaching for the bag.
“Protection charm,” Damon said, snatching his arm back before the younger man could touch it. Eyeing the innocuous black pouch skeptically, he added. “At least that’s what Bonnie says. It’s supposed to keep out anyone who isn’t acting of their own free will.”
“So, what like…” Jeremy paused, working through the implications of Damon’s words before his brow cleared and he smiled. “Stefan. You think that will keep him out of the house because Klaus compelled him?”
“That’s what I’m hoping,” Damon nodded, scanning the entryway for a good place to secure the charm. Bonnie had said that it would work best near a door, but as long as it was in the house his brother couldn’t be. Stefan had sworn he wouldn’t hurt Elena - that because of Klaus’s compulsion he couldn’t - but Damon wasn’t willing to bet her life on the word of his Ripper brother and the hybrid. The compulsion wouldn’t prevent Stefan from being a complete dick and tormenting her - at least her home could be a safe haven.
Wedging the drawstring between the wall and the upper corner of the doorframe, Damon waved Jeremy out of the way before forcefully opening and closing the door, utilizing enough of his vampiric strength to make the house shake.
“That should do it,” he said, nodding once with satisfaction as the charm stayed put. “Just don’t-.”
“What the hell are you doing here, Damon?” Alaric demanded, entering the hallway from the kitchen.
Rolling his eyes, Damon sighed heavily before turning around to face his momentarily estranged friend. “Ric,” he said, offering the man a tight-lipped smile. “Nice to see you, too.”
“Damon brought over a protection charm,” Jeremy explained, pointing toward the inconspicuous velvet bag tucked up into the doorframe. “To keep Stefan out.”
“Huh,” Alaric’s gaze flicked toward the charm for a split second before returning to glare at Damon. “Too bad it won’t keep you out.”
“Aren’t we melodramatic,” Damon drawled, heading for the stairs. If he wanted abuse, he could have stayed home with Stefan.
“Where are you going?”
The vampire groaned, stopping halfway up the stairs and turning around. “What are you, the hall monitor?” he demanded, bracing his hands on the railing as he glowered down at the teacher. “I’m going to talk to Elena.”
“She’s had enough of vampires for awhile,” Alaric declared, his eyes flashing with anger as he approached the foot of the stairs. “I think you should leave.”
“And I think that the last time that I took your advice, Elena ended up in the fucking hospital,” Damon retorted, keeping his town light as he mentally debated the merits of snapping Alaric’s neck again. “So, I’m done listening to your suggestions.”
Ignoring the wide-eyed look on Jeremy’s face as his gaze skipped between him and Alaric, Damon turned around, blurring up the rest of the stairs to Elena’s room. The teacher could be pissed at him for causing his temporary death - even though Damon had obviously checked to make sure that he was wearing his damn eternity ring - but Alaric could go fuck himself when it came to Elena.
Senior Prank Night had proven that the only person Damon could trust to keep her alive and safe was himself.
Approaching the closed door, he listened intently for any sound of life inside, but all he heard was silence. Knocking once, he waited a few long moments before knocking again and twisting the doorknob, calling out softly. “Elena?”
The curtains were drawn against the late afternoon sun, cloaking the bedroom in shadow. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, his gaze drawn immediately toward the vanity where Elena sat, staring listlessly at her reflection in the mirror.
Mirror, mirror, Damon thought as he eased into the room, watching her sweep her hair over her shoulder to expose the smooth column of her throat. The usual surge of emotion he felt every time he saw her soured at the sight of the twin bite marks - angry and red even in the low light. She probed the swollen wound with trembling fingers, wincing at the slight contact and jerking her hand away as her eyes filled with tears. Clenching his jaw, Damon grappled with the swell of murderous rage.
He wanted to fucking kill Stefan.
“Elena,” he said quietly, not wanting to scare her. She jumped like a frightened kitten anyway, twisting around in her seat as she frantically rearranged her hair to hide the bite marks.
“Damon,” she said, blinking furiously to banish the tears. “What are you doing here?”
“I came by to see a friend,” he said, leaving the door open a crack as he made his way to the foot of her bed and sank to the mattress.
Clearing her throat, she swallowed. “I thought Ric wasn’t speaking to you.”
He smirked. “I was talking about you.”
“Oh,” she replied, her cheeks turning pink in the low light as she offered him a small smile. “Sorry, I’m a little slow. I haven’t been sleeping well.”
I can’t imagine why, he thought as he watched her wrap a hair tie around her finger so tightly that the tip turned white. She probably wasn’t sleeping at all. As usual, she was doing everything she could to keep it together and, as usual, it brought out latent, protective instincts from deep within him that seemed to be reserved for her and her alone. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and shield her from the world - not just Klaus and Stefan, but every stupid, annoying thing that threatened her happiness.
Of course, he was the thing that threatened her happiness a good chunk of the time and the irony of that was not lost on him.
“I brought you something that should help you sleep,” Damon revealed, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees as he filled her in on the details of the protection charm. Elena’s eyes grew wide and the lines of stress around her eyes and mouth began to recede.
“So, it’ll keep Stefan out?” she asked eagerly, gripping the edge of the vanity seat with both hands as she leaned closer to him until they were separated by only a foot of space, like two conspirators hashing out a master plan. “Even though he’s already been invited in?”
“That’s what Bonnie tells me,” Damon said, nodding in the affirmative. Elena’s shoulders slumped with relief as she leaned back against edge of the vanity.
“I can’t believe you went to Bonnie,” she said after a moment of comfortable silence.
“Is there another witch in town that I don’t know about?” he countered, raising a brow.
Elena shook her head, smiling as she briefly lowered her gaze. “Thank you.”
“Yeah, well it was either the charm or move in here,” Damon shrugged, deciding not to admit that if Bonnie had come up empty he would have been spending his nights for the foreseeable future either on her roof or tucked up into the tree outside of her bedroom window. “And like you said, I’m not Ric’s favorite person right now. Breakfast would have been awkward.”
Chuckling, Elena absently tucked her hair behind her ear, inadvertently baring the bite marks on her neck. Every instinct he had warned Damon against bringing it up - he didn’t want to ruin the moment or watch the soft smile on her lips fade away - but his gaze was drawn to the wound and he had to know. “How are you?”
He cursed himself immediately for opening his mouth as Elena’s good mood faltered. “I’m fine,” she said automatically, avoiding his eye as she curled her fingers into fists. Her eyes began filling with tears at an alarming rate, revealing just how tightly she was clinging to control and how close she was to an emotional breakdown.
“Are you sure?” he asked, prying where he otherwise wouldn’t have because he still felt like shit for leaving her. There was no way for him to know how things migh have been different had he stayed in town, and that uncertainty was eating him alive, along with his guilt. Moving forward on the bed, he inched closer to her. “Elena.”
Pressing her lips together into a hard line, she looked toward the ceiling and swallowed. “It…um…really hurts,” she finally revealed in a small voice that was beginning to break. “I didn’t expect it to hurt so much. Isn’t that stupid? I mean, it’s a vampire bite, of course it…it hurts.”
Fuck, Damon swore, closing his eyes in frustration. There were ways to be careful, to make a bite next to painless and heal clean, but of course his Ripper brother hadn’t bothered to show the supposed love of his life even that small consideration when he’d torn into her vein. Helplessly, he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sor-.”
“Do you think it’s going to scar?” she asked as the first tear slipped down her cheek.
“I don’t…know,” he answered honestly before rising from the bed in a sudden burst of inspiration. Damon couldn’t undo what Stefan had done, but he could erase the evidence. Shoving up his sleeve he bared his wrist. “Take some of my blood. It’ll heal the bite, take away the pain-.”
“No,” Elena cried, leaping skittishly to her feet and backing away from him toward the window as she shook her head vehemently. “No, Damon. No more blood, no more biting, please. I don’t...I can’t-.”
“Okay,” he replied, holding up his hands in acquiescence as he gave her some space. “Okay. No blood, Elena. It was just an idea.”
She nodded jerkily, her breathing heavy as she shifted her weight from foot to foot and wiped away the tears that continued to fall relentlessly down her cheeks. Her mouth worked soundlessly, opening and closing on phantom syllables until finally he could make out words.
“Why?” she asked, running both hands through her hair as she paced, her breaths coming in tortured gasps as her chest heaved. “Why did he do this? I know that he was compelled, but why couldn’t he fight it? Why couldn’t he stop? How could Stefan…how could he…,” she stopped directly in front of Damon, gazing at him through lashes clumped with tears. “How could he do this to me?”
He had a second to flounder for an answer as his heart broke for her before her shoulders began to shake and she half-leaned, half collapsed into him, burying her face into his shoulder. Slowly, he wrapped an arm around her waist as she sobbed against his chest, her hands curling into fists around the fabric of his shirt. In a way, he’d been waiting for this moment, knowing that at some point, Elena had to snap and release the reservoir of emotions that had been hiding behind the impenetrable dam she’d built around herself.
He just hadn’t expected her to let him see it.
Smoothing a hand down the back of her head, he held her silently - because no words of comfort would ever take away the pain of Stefan’s betrayal - as she burned through months of fears, disappointments and frustrations, clinging to him like she’d never let go. He tried not to read too much into it as he tightened his hold on her, the heat from her body bleeding through her clothes and sinking into his skin.
As Elena’s sobs continued, Damon’s hatred for his brother intensified. He couldn’t fathom a compulsion strong enough to make him hurt the woman he was holding in his arms. He would have staked himself first, ripped off his ring and walked into the sun - Damon would have done whatever it took, endured any kind of torment, just to keep a smile on Elena’s face.
He sure as hell wouldn’t have thrown his life away to save Stefan.
Why am I trying so hard to save him?
Damon had asked himself that question countless times over the past few months and each time it took him longer to remember the various reasons. Standing in Elena’s bedroom with her trembling form locked securely in his arms, he couldn’t think of a single one. Fuck Stefan, if he didn’t want this girl, if she wasn’t the reason his brother got out of bed every goddamn day, then he didn’t deserve her.
I was wrong, Damon thought, rubbing his cheek against Elena’s crown, breathing in her scent. He’d been wrong that night when he’d told her he loved her and compelled her to forget. The truth of the matter was, neither of them deserved her, but at least Damon wasn’t trying to rip her throat out and hand her over to an Original who wanted to bleed her dry.
Elena shifted in his arms, yanking Damon out of his introspection as her nose brushed against the sensitive skin of his throat. Her sobbing began to taper off, turning into soft sniffles and short, breathy gasps as she uncurled her fists and flattened her palm against his chest. Despite the fact that they were connected from head to foot, his entire being zeroed in on that spot, noting every minute change in pressure as she laid her cheek against his shoulder.
Lowering his head, Damon met her teary, bloodshot gaze just as she was lifting hers and decided then and there that she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Brushing her hair away from her face, he cupped her cheek, sweeping his thumb over the smooth skin and wiping away the tears. She stared at him, her breath whispering over his lips as his lungs seized up in his chest. Lifting her chin, she brought them closer, her gaze drifting south and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world for him to meet her halfway.
“Damon,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head, her mouth mere centimeters from his. “Stop.”
Instantly, he could breathe again. Blinking, he snapped out of his trance as cold, stark reality doused the desire burning within him.
“I-I’m sorry,” Elena stammered, placing her palms against his chest and pushing out of his arms. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be doing this, I…I can’t. It’s not fair.”
Clenching his teeth, Damon closed his eyes briefly, curling his hands into fists as he kicked himself for falling into the old, familiar trap. “What’s not fair?” he demanded, his voice low and angry.
“Leaning on you like this,” she replied, scrubbing at her wet cheeks with the long sleeves of her t-shirt before dragging her fingers through the tangled knots of her long hair. “It’s not fair to you or to me or to Stef-.”
“Don’t,” Damon said, swallowing hard as he held back the string of profanity he wanted to unleash. He didn’t want to hear his brother’s name or how Elena still loved him even after everything he’d done to her.
“I’m sorry,” Elena said miserably, covering her face with her hands and twisting his heart. He scowled, shaking his head slightly as he looked away from her, his gaze landing on the vanity mirror and the pictures taped around the edges - snapshots of her and Jeremy as kids, Caroline and Bonnie and Matt, her parents and…
Her and Stefan.
Damon stared at his brother’s smiling face as his world shifted back onto its axis and he remembered why he’d spent the last few months moving heaven and earth to pull Stefan back from the bloodlust that had taken him over. It hadn’t just been for Elena - although if anyone asked, she was the reason he gave - it had also been for him. Stefan needed him, needed him to be the big brother and there were some family ties - some bonds of blood - that Damon simply couldn’t shake.
No matter how badly he wanted to smash his brother’s face into a wall.
Blowing out a breath, he turned his attention back to Elena, grabbing her arm as she paced by him in agitation. “Hey. Hey,” he said, commanding her attention. Holding her gaze, he raised his brow. “Don’t worry about it.”
“How can I not?” she asked, incredulously.
“Contrary to what just happened, I’m not an idiot,” Damon said, mentally reeling in all of the feelings he had for her and locking them away where they wouldn’t get him into trouble. Elena didn’t love him - Stefan’s descent into the dark side had changed almost everything, but he knew that it hadn’t changed that.
Even if he sometimes forgot it in the heat of an emotional breakdown.
Elena clearly needed him, however, and he needed her. Without her determination and unwavering hope, he would have given up on Stefan a dozen times by now and despite all outward signs, Damon needed to pull his brother back from the abyss.
He needed to balance the scales.
Offering her a tight-lipped smile, he shrugged. “I know what this is.”
Elena bit her already swollen bottom lip, making him seriously doubt his convictions, as she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Damon.”
“Enough of that,” he declared, deciding that if he heard her apologize one more time for being fucking human, he’d dive out of the window and take a month-long vacation. “You don’t need to apologize, Elena, we just need…a ceasefire.”
“A what?” Elena frowned, pinning him with her confused gaze.
“A truce,” he clarified, smirking at the way she continued to stare at him blankly. “Look, we’re a good team, so we keep doing what we’ve been doing. Working together,” he continued, each word easing the ache in his chest. “We save Stefan and the rest…”
“What about the rest, Damon?” she asked, gazing up at him with such hope and trust that he almost felt like an ass for trying to kiss her.
Almost.
Damon took a deep breath and swallowed. The rest - the way Elena couldn’t keep her eyes off of his mouth, the way her heart started pounding when he got close, racing when he touched her, the way she looked to him for guidance, a path, a plan...
The way they laughed.
The rest was going to fucking kill him, but he’d have to deal with it. “The rest can wait until Stefan’s back and able to fend for himself,” Damon answered, pulling Elena closer to him and giving into the urge to touch her. Tucking a finger under her chin, he raised a brow. “If I’m going to get the girl, it’s not going to be by default.”
“Damon,” Elena blushed as she looked away, hemming and hawing for several seconds before she met his eye again. Her voice was thick with skepticism as she asked. “Do you really think it will be that easy?”
“Of course,” he lied, laying on the exaggerated confidence thick. Nothing with Elena was ever easy and forgetting that he loved her - even if it was only for a little while - would be damn near impossible.
“Okay,” she said, nodding to herself as if she’d arrived at some unspoken decision. “A ceasefire.” Hesitating only a second, she rose up on her toes and wrapped her arms around him. Her breath whispered over his skin, making the hair stand up on the back of his neck as she added a soft, “Thank you.”
“No problem,” Damon said, slowly returning the embrace as Elena once again overwhelmed his senses. He closed his eyes as her scent swirled around him, knowing that he’d be able to smell her on his clothes even after he washed them.
Ceasefire my ass, he thought with a rueful grin. He was fucking screwed.
Recipient: shipperjunkie
Prompt: Elena+Jeremy+Damon+Alaric: An evening at the Gilbert's set prior to 3x10. Ripper!Stefan not invited, but he might stop by. Extra credit if the story is told from Jeremy's perspective.
Author: fallinangelz21
Characters/Pairings: Um...see prompt. LOL Damon/Elena emphasis w/plenty of Damon/Alaric & Damon/Jeremy bromancing to go around.
Word count: 3,628
Ratings/Warnings: R
Spoilers: Everything through 3.05 "The Reckoning."
Summary: With Ripper!Stefan back in town, the Gilbert 'family' knows the only way to save him is to work together. Easier said than done.
Author's note: I get a big F for short stories, because even though I totally meant for this to be a one-shot, it's turned into a mutli-parter. This fic will stay in S3 canon for the duration. As always, all of the thanks and awards to bamf!Pilar as she will heretofore be known.
To Ride Pegasus
Two days after Stefan tried to use Elena as his own personal blood bag, Damon stood on the steps of the Gilbert front porch, pissed off and contemplating murder. His brother had wasted no time in turning the house into a blood den and while normally Damon would have been all for it, the fact that the Ripper turned Stefan into the worst kind of drunken asshole took most of the fun out of it.
And he was ruining the goddamn rugs.
Valiantly trying to reign in his temper before he saw Elena, Damon took a breath and knocked on the front door. Within seconds, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, breathing a sigh of relief when Jeremy opened the door.
Alaric was still harboring some animosity about the neck-snapping incident.
And given his current mood, snapping his best friend’s neck for the third time just to avoid the anger in his judgy little eyes was a distinct possibility.
“Damon,” the younger man said, a wary expression on his face as he glanced into the yard and scanned the street. Damon couldn’t blame him for being a little edgy. The last time they’d hung out Jeremy had spent most of the time locked up in the trunk of Katherine’s rental car. “What’s going on?”
“Is Elena here?” he asked, taking Jeremy’s slight step backwards as an invitation to enter. The question was pointless - he knew Elena was there. She’d barely left the house since Stefan had interrupted their moment when Damon had brought her home from the hospital.
“Yeah, she’s upstairs,” Jeremy nodded, his brow furrowing in concern. “Is something wrong?”
Damon narrowed his eyes. “Why would something be wrong?”
Jeremy lifted a shoulder. “You’re not usually the bearer of good news.”
Damon tipped his head in acknowledgement of that fact, smirking as the human shut the door and leaned against it, crossing his arms and raising a brow in expectation. Reaching into his pocket, Damon pulled out a small, velvet drawstring pouch. “Today is an exception,” he revealed, dangling it in front of the younger man.
“What is that?” Jeremy asked, reaching for the bag.
“Protection charm,” Damon said, snatching his arm back before the younger man could touch it. Eyeing the innocuous black pouch skeptically, he added. “At least that’s what Bonnie says. It’s supposed to keep out anyone who isn’t acting of their own free will.”
“So, what like…” Jeremy paused, working through the implications of Damon’s words before his brow cleared and he smiled. “Stefan. You think that will keep him out of the house because Klaus compelled him?”
“That’s what I’m hoping,” Damon nodded, scanning the entryway for a good place to secure the charm. Bonnie had said that it would work best near a door, but as long as it was in the house his brother couldn’t be. Stefan had sworn he wouldn’t hurt Elena - that because of Klaus’s compulsion he couldn’t - but Damon wasn’t willing to bet her life on the word of his Ripper brother and the hybrid. The compulsion wouldn’t prevent Stefan from being a complete dick and tormenting her - at least her home could be a safe haven.
Wedging the drawstring between the wall and the upper corner of the doorframe, Damon waved Jeremy out of the way before forcefully opening and closing the door, utilizing enough of his vampiric strength to make the house shake.
“That should do it,” he said, nodding once with satisfaction as the charm stayed put. “Just don’t-.”
“What the hell are you doing here, Damon?” Alaric demanded, entering the hallway from the kitchen.
Rolling his eyes, Damon sighed heavily before turning around to face his momentarily estranged friend. “Ric,” he said, offering the man a tight-lipped smile. “Nice to see you, too.”
“Damon brought over a protection charm,” Jeremy explained, pointing toward the inconspicuous velvet bag tucked up into the doorframe. “To keep Stefan out.”
“Huh,” Alaric’s gaze flicked toward the charm for a split second before returning to glare at Damon. “Too bad it won’t keep you out.”
“Aren’t we melodramatic,” Damon drawled, heading for the stairs. If he wanted abuse, he could have stayed home with Stefan.
“Where are you going?”
The vampire groaned, stopping halfway up the stairs and turning around. “What are you, the hall monitor?” he demanded, bracing his hands on the railing as he glowered down at the teacher. “I’m going to talk to Elena.”
“She’s had enough of vampires for awhile,” Alaric declared, his eyes flashing with anger as he approached the foot of the stairs. “I think you should leave.”
“And I think that the last time that I took your advice, Elena ended up in the fucking hospital,” Damon retorted, keeping his town light as he mentally debated the merits of snapping Alaric’s neck again. “So, I’m done listening to your suggestions.”
Ignoring the wide-eyed look on Jeremy’s face as his gaze skipped between him and Alaric, Damon turned around, blurring up the rest of the stairs to Elena’s room. The teacher could be pissed at him for causing his temporary death - even though Damon had obviously checked to make sure that he was wearing his damn eternity ring - but Alaric could go fuck himself when it came to Elena.
Senior Prank Night had proven that the only person Damon could trust to keep her alive and safe was himself.
Approaching the closed door, he listened intently for any sound of life inside, but all he heard was silence. Knocking once, he waited a few long moments before knocking again and twisting the doorknob, calling out softly. “Elena?”
The curtains were drawn against the late afternoon sun, cloaking the bedroom in shadow. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, his gaze drawn immediately toward the vanity where Elena sat, staring listlessly at her reflection in the mirror.
Mirror, mirror, Damon thought as he eased into the room, watching her sweep her hair over her shoulder to expose the smooth column of her throat. The usual surge of emotion he felt every time he saw her soured at the sight of the twin bite marks - angry and red even in the low light. She probed the swollen wound with trembling fingers, wincing at the slight contact and jerking her hand away as her eyes filled with tears. Clenching his jaw, Damon grappled with the swell of murderous rage.
He wanted to fucking kill Stefan.
“Elena,” he said quietly, not wanting to scare her. She jumped like a frightened kitten anyway, twisting around in her seat as she frantically rearranged her hair to hide the bite marks.
“Damon,” she said, blinking furiously to banish the tears. “What are you doing here?”
“I came by to see a friend,” he said, leaving the door open a crack as he made his way to the foot of her bed and sank to the mattress.
Clearing her throat, she swallowed. “I thought Ric wasn’t speaking to you.”
He smirked. “I was talking about you.”
“Oh,” she replied, her cheeks turning pink in the low light as she offered him a small smile. “Sorry, I’m a little slow. I haven’t been sleeping well.”
I can’t imagine why, he thought as he watched her wrap a hair tie around her finger so tightly that the tip turned white. She probably wasn’t sleeping at all. As usual, she was doing everything she could to keep it together and, as usual, it brought out latent, protective instincts from deep within him that seemed to be reserved for her and her alone. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and shield her from the world - not just Klaus and Stefan, but every stupid, annoying thing that threatened her happiness.
Of course, he was the thing that threatened her happiness a good chunk of the time and the irony of that was not lost on him.
“I brought you something that should help you sleep,” Damon revealed, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees as he filled her in on the details of the protection charm. Elena’s eyes grew wide and the lines of stress around her eyes and mouth began to recede.
“So, it’ll keep Stefan out?” she asked eagerly, gripping the edge of the vanity seat with both hands as she leaned closer to him until they were separated by only a foot of space, like two conspirators hashing out a master plan. “Even though he’s already been invited in?”
“That’s what Bonnie tells me,” Damon said, nodding in the affirmative. Elena’s shoulders slumped with relief as she leaned back against edge of the vanity.
“I can’t believe you went to Bonnie,” she said after a moment of comfortable silence.
“Is there another witch in town that I don’t know about?” he countered, raising a brow.
Elena shook her head, smiling as she briefly lowered her gaze. “Thank you.”
“Yeah, well it was either the charm or move in here,” Damon shrugged, deciding not to admit that if Bonnie had come up empty he would have been spending his nights for the foreseeable future either on her roof or tucked up into the tree outside of her bedroom window. “And like you said, I’m not Ric’s favorite person right now. Breakfast would have been awkward.”
Chuckling, Elena absently tucked her hair behind her ear, inadvertently baring the bite marks on her neck. Every instinct he had warned Damon against bringing it up - he didn’t want to ruin the moment or watch the soft smile on her lips fade away - but his gaze was drawn to the wound and he had to know. “How are you?”
He cursed himself immediately for opening his mouth as Elena’s good mood faltered. “I’m fine,” she said automatically, avoiding his eye as she curled her fingers into fists. Her eyes began filling with tears at an alarming rate, revealing just how tightly she was clinging to control and how close she was to an emotional breakdown.
“Are you sure?” he asked, prying where he otherwise wouldn’t have because he still felt like shit for leaving her. There was no way for him to know how things migh have been different had he stayed in town, and that uncertainty was eating him alive, along with his guilt. Moving forward on the bed, he inched closer to her. “Elena.”
Pressing her lips together into a hard line, she looked toward the ceiling and swallowed. “It…um…really hurts,” she finally revealed in a small voice that was beginning to break. “I didn’t expect it to hurt so much. Isn’t that stupid? I mean, it’s a vampire bite, of course it…it hurts.”
Fuck, Damon swore, closing his eyes in frustration. There were ways to be careful, to make a bite next to painless and heal clean, but of course his Ripper brother hadn’t bothered to show the supposed love of his life even that small consideration when he’d torn into her vein. Helplessly, he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sor-.”
“Do you think it’s going to scar?” she asked as the first tear slipped down her cheek.
“I don’t…know,” he answered honestly before rising from the bed in a sudden burst of inspiration. Damon couldn’t undo what Stefan had done, but he could erase the evidence. Shoving up his sleeve he bared his wrist. “Take some of my blood. It’ll heal the bite, take away the pain-.”
“No,” Elena cried, leaping skittishly to her feet and backing away from him toward the window as she shook her head vehemently. “No, Damon. No more blood, no more biting, please. I don’t...I can’t-.”
“Okay,” he replied, holding up his hands in acquiescence as he gave her some space. “Okay. No blood, Elena. It was just an idea.”
She nodded jerkily, her breathing heavy as she shifted her weight from foot to foot and wiped away the tears that continued to fall relentlessly down her cheeks. Her mouth worked soundlessly, opening and closing on phantom syllables until finally he could make out words.
“Why?” she asked, running both hands through her hair as she paced, her breaths coming in tortured gasps as her chest heaved. “Why did he do this? I know that he was compelled, but why couldn’t he fight it? Why couldn’t he stop? How could Stefan…how could he…,” she stopped directly in front of Damon, gazing at him through lashes clumped with tears. “How could he do this to me?”
He had a second to flounder for an answer as his heart broke for her before her shoulders began to shake and she half-leaned, half collapsed into him, burying her face into his shoulder. Slowly, he wrapped an arm around her waist as she sobbed against his chest, her hands curling into fists around the fabric of his shirt. In a way, he’d been waiting for this moment, knowing that at some point, Elena had to snap and release the reservoir of emotions that had been hiding behind the impenetrable dam she’d built around herself.
He just hadn’t expected her to let him see it.
Smoothing a hand down the back of her head, he held her silently - because no words of comfort would ever take away the pain of Stefan’s betrayal - as she burned through months of fears, disappointments and frustrations, clinging to him like she’d never let go. He tried not to read too much into it as he tightened his hold on her, the heat from her body bleeding through her clothes and sinking into his skin.
As Elena’s sobs continued, Damon’s hatred for his brother intensified. He couldn’t fathom a compulsion strong enough to make him hurt the woman he was holding in his arms. He would have staked himself first, ripped off his ring and walked into the sun - Damon would have done whatever it took, endured any kind of torment, just to keep a smile on Elena’s face.
He sure as hell wouldn’t have thrown his life away to save Stefan.
Why am I trying so hard to save him?
Damon had asked himself that question countless times over the past few months and each time it took him longer to remember the various reasons. Standing in Elena’s bedroom with her trembling form locked securely in his arms, he couldn’t think of a single one. Fuck Stefan, if he didn’t want this girl, if she wasn’t the reason his brother got out of bed every goddamn day, then he didn’t deserve her.
I was wrong, Damon thought, rubbing his cheek against Elena’s crown, breathing in her scent. He’d been wrong that night when he’d told her he loved her and compelled her to forget. The truth of the matter was, neither of them deserved her, but at least Damon wasn’t trying to rip her throat out and hand her over to an Original who wanted to bleed her dry.
Elena shifted in his arms, yanking Damon out of his introspection as her nose brushed against the sensitive skin of his throat. Her sobbing began to taper off, turning into soft sniffles and short, breathy gasps as she uncurled her fists and flattened her palm against his chest. Despite the fact that they were connected from head to foot, his entire being zeroed in on that spot, noting every minute change in pressure as she laid her cheek against his shoulder.
Lowering his head, Damon met her teary, bloodshot gaze just as she was lifting hers and decided then and there that she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Brushing her hair away from her face, he cupped her cheek, sweeping his thumb over the smooth skin and wiping away the tears. She stared at him, her breath whispering over his lips as his lungs seized up in his chest. Lifting her chin, she brought them closer, her gaze drifting south and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world for him to meet her halfway.
“Damon,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head, her mouth mere centimeters from his. “Stop.”
Instantly, he could breathe again. Blinking, he snapped out of his trance as cold, stark reality doused the desire burning within him.
“I-I’m sorry,” Elena stammered, placing her palms against his chest and pushing out of his arms. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be doing this, I…I can’t. It’s not fair.”
Clenching his teeth, Damon closed his eyes briefly, curling his hands into fists as he kicked himself for falling into the old, familiar trap. “What’s not fair?” he demanded, his voice low and angry.
“Leaning on you like this,” she replied, scrubbing at her wet cheeks with the long sleeves of her t-shirt before dragging her fingers through the tangled knots of her long hair. “It’s not fair to you or to me or to Stef-.”
“Don’t,” Damon said, swallowing hard as he held back the string of profanity he wanted to unleash. He didn’t want to hear his brother’s name or how Elena still loved him even after everything he’d done to her.
“I’m sorry,” Elena said miserably, covering her face with her hands and twisting his heart. He scowled, shaking his head slightly as he looked away from her, his gaze landing on the vanity mirror and the pictures taped around the edges - snapshots of her and Jeremy as kids, Caroline and Bonnie and Matt, her parents and…
Her and Stefan.
Damon stared at his brother’s smiling face as his world shifted back onto its axis and he remembered why he’d spent the last few months moving heaven and earth to pull Stefan back from the bloodlust that had taken him over. It hadn’t just been for Elena - although if anyone asked, she was the reason he gave - it had also been for him. Stefan needed him, needed him to be the big brother and there were some family ties - some bonds of blood - that Damon simply couldn’t shake.
No matter how badly he wanted to smash his brother’s face into a wall.
Blowing out a breath, he turned his attention back to Elena, grabbing her arm as she paced by him in agitation. “Hey. Hey,” he said, commanding her attention. Holding her gaze, he raised his brow. “Don’t worry about it.”
“How can I not?” she asked, incredulously.
“Contrary to what just happened, I’m not an idiot,” Damon said, mentally reeling in all of the feelings he had for her and locking them away where they wouldn’t get him into trouble. Elena didn’t love him - Stefan’s descent into the dark side had changed almost everything, but he knew that it hadn’t changed that.
Even if he sometimes forgot it in the heat of an emotional breakdown.
Elena clearly needed him, however, and he needed her. Without her determination and unwavering hope, he would have given up on Stefan a dozen times by now and despite all outward signs, Damon needed to pull his brother back from the abyss.
He needed to balance the scales.
Offering her a tight-lipped smile, he shrugged. “I know what this is.”
Elena bit her already swollen bottom lip, making him seriously doubt his convictions, as she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Damon.”
“Enough of that,” he declared, deciding that if he heard her apologize one more time for being fucking human, he’d dive out of the window and take a month-long vacation. “You don’t need to apologize, Elena, we just need…a ceasefire.”
“A what?” Elena frowned, pinning him with her confused gaze.
“A truce,” he clarified, smirking at the way she continued to stare at him blankly. “Look, we’re a good team, so we keep doing what we’ve been doing. Working together,” he continued, each word easing the ache in his chest. “We save Stefan and the rest…”
“What about the rest, Damon?” she asked, gazing up at him with such hope and trust that he almost felt like an ass for trying to kiss her.
Almost.
Damon took a deep breath and swallowed. The rest - the way Elena couldn’t keep her eyes off of his mouth, the way her heart started pounding when he got close, racing when he touched her, the way she looked to him for guidance, a path, a plan...
The way they laughed.
The rest was going to fucking kill him, but he’d have to deal with it. “The rest can wait until Stefan’s back and able to fend for himself,” Damon answered, pulling Elena closer to him and giving into the urge to touch her. Tucking a finger under her chin, he raised a brow. “If I’m going to get the girl, it’s not going to be by default.”
“Damon,” Elena blushed as she looked away, hemming and hawing for several seconds before she met his eye again. Her voice was thick with skepticism as she asked. “Do you really think it will be that easy?”
“Of course,” he lied, laying on the exaggerated confidence thick. Nothing with Elena was ever easy and forgetting that he loved her - even if it was only for a little while - would be damn near impossible.
“Okay,” she said, nodding to herself as if she’d arrived at some unspoken decision. “A ceasefire.” Hesitating only a second, she rose up on her toes and wrapped her arms around him. Her breath whispered over his skin, making the hair stand up on the back of his neck as she added a soft, “Thank you.”
“No problem,” Damon said, slowly returning the embrace as Elena once again overwhelmed his senses. He closed his eyes as her scent swirled around him, knowing that he’d be able to smell her on his clothes even after he washed them.
Ceasefire my ass, he thought with a rueful grin. He was fucking screwed.