Saved By Grace: Chapter Two - Book of Damon - (2/7)
His brain is still fuzzy, though clearing more and more with each passing moment. Elena stares at him and he doesn't know what to process first: a) he's not dead, or b) Stefan gave himself over to Klaus (what does that even mean?), or c) Katherine loved him?
The problem is, he can't process any of it. It's all stuff he categorizes under: Not Possible.
(Just like Elena whispering, I like you now. Just the way you are.)
If he didn't know better, he'd think he was being Punk'd. Seriously.
Clammy sweat clings to his skin as he sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. The desire to clean up wars with the need to go find his brother. Right now, and drag him back from wherever he is. From whatever he's done, before it gets bad.
Before it gets worse.
The room spins, but Elena's there, her hand on his shoulder and the bottle of blood Katherine had tossed to her at his lips. "Drink more," she instructs, and so he does because he's really too weak to do anything else.
Her fingers skim over his ear, then dig into the hair at the nape of his neck, her short nails scoring into the base of his skull. He wants to ask her what she's thinking, but he knows. It's all about Stefan now. And it should be.
"What are you thinking?" she asks, and he laughs wheezily, choking on what must be Klaus's blood. It doesn't taste like anything Damon's ever had before. And though it makes him feel better with each swallow, it doesn't have the lush, heady taste of Elena's. (God, he wishes he could forget that-except, not really.)
"I've got to go get him," he says, clearing his throat. He finishes off what's in the bottle and corks it tight before laying it on the bed.
She nods, her forehead creasing. "But not tonight, you don't," she says. She catches his jaw in her palm and tips his head up so their eyes meet. "Go take a shower. I'll text him. Then we'll figure out what we're gonna do."
"Elena..."
She presses her thumb against his lips. "There's nothing we can do tonight," she says firmly.
It's not until he gets in the shower a few minutes later that he realizes she's being strong for him. (As if he needed another reason to love her.)
So, after he gets out of the shower, he falls back into bed, because the spirit is willing, but his flesh is still super weak.
"It must take a while to get better, like it took a while for you to get so bad," Elena reasons when he complains.
"Give me my phone," he demands, because Stefan still hasn't responded to her text.
"Damon, just rest," she says, and she puts her hand against his cheek. She's leaning over him, not joining him on the bed the way she had when they both thought it was all over.
"Phone!" he barks, and she sighs heavily before leaving the room.
He falls asleep before she comes back.
When he wakes, the sun is peeking through the curtains and he sits up really fast. The room doesn't spin, and he looks down at his arm. It looks completely normal. Pressing his fingers against the not-there wound, he realizes he's fine.
He's perfect again, at least his body is. The rest was never perfect to begin with, and now it's even more fucked up than ever. But that's all for another day and another dissection.
For now, there's only one thing to do. He gets dressed and listens carefully. Elena's in the kitchen, so he goes to find her.
She's sitting at the island on a barstool hunched over a cup of coffee. She doesn't look well-rested and it pisses him off that he slept so long and so hard while she was...doing whatever she was doing. God knows that she could have gone off on her own, thinking she could solve this shit-tastic problem that is just another result of Being Damon.
She glances up as he enters the room. Pushing her phone over so he can see the message on the screen, she says nothing, just picks up her cup and holds it between her palms.
It's over. Don't try to find me. Tell Damon I'm glad he's alive.
Damon reads it twice because it makes no sense. Then he looks at her. "What's over?"
"Our relationship," she says, and her voice is froggy, like she just woke up.
"Whatever," Damon says, moving over to the sideboard by the sink to pour himself a cup. Generally he'd start off a day like this with Scotch, but he needs to not go there, not until he gets his brother back. "He's just...he doesn't mean it. He just doesn't want you getting eaten by Klaus. Don't worry, I'll go get him."
"Damon, after he sent this message, there was nothing. Like, I tried calling, and it's like he shut it off, and I tried sending him more texts, but they won't go through. Like he doesn't have that number anymore."
"Well, that can't be right. We have contracts until the end of the year with Verizon."
She spins around on the stool and when he smirks at her, she lobs the phone at his head. Of course, he catches it, because his reflexes are perfect. "So, you're obviously fine," she says, and he can't tell if she thinks that's a good thing or not. He sets her phone down on the counter he's leaning against.
"I didn't ask him to do this," he says defensively. "I wanted to die, Elena. I wanted it, and he wouldn't let me. He locked me in the basement."
Tears appear in her eyes, and he feels like a world-class jerk. Like any of it matters. Like he wouldn't have done the same thing, to save Stefan from his own madness. Like he wouldn't have gone and willingly given up everything he had to keep his brother alive.
Because that's the sick thing about them-it's always been a matter of each of them deciding the other's fate. Only Stefan gets to kill Damon, and vice-versa. Because that's the way it should be settled, some day, when the time is right.
She gets off the stool and walks over to him. He thinks maybe another slap across the face is in order, and he probably won't stop her if she tries. He's sort of learned to just let her have at it when she so chooses, because it's the only time she's totally honest.
She slides her arms around his waist and hugs him.
He has to swallow a sudden lump in his throat. He wraps one arm around her because he's holding his coffee cup in the other. He rests his chin on the top of her head, and he wants to ask "Are we doing this now?" but he actually says, "I'm gonna find him, and bring him home, and you'll finally get to have that boring Mystic Falls life you've always wanted together."
She sniffles, but says nothing as she tightens her arms around him. Damon doesn't know what to make of it, so he presses his lips to her forehead and rubs her back, pretending it's brotherly concern running through his veins because what else is he going to do? He has to get Stefan back, and he has to forget everything that happened in his bed the night before.
It didn't mean anything-it's just the sweetness of a girl who thought the devil at her back was finally going to snuff out. (She didn't mean any of it; she was just trying to ease him out of this life gently.)
The least he can do is quietly restore her life to the status quo she prefers. (While hoarding the sweetness in a lock box of memories he will never surrender.)
She pulls away from him and grabs her empty cup. Turning to the sink she rinses it and then says, "I'm going to school."
Since that isn't what he was expecting, Damon says, "What?" and automatically grabs at her arm. He half-expected her to go galloping out to his car, anticipating his own plan of action. (For the record, he would've protested, but she would have ended up coming with him anyway, he's sure of it.)
She squares her shoulders and stands in front of him with an expression he hasn't seen in a long time-this is Elena in the parking lot of the school, smacking him for trying to kiss her, this is Elena confronting him at the Founder's Party when she saw bite marks on Caroline-and it thrills him even as it confounds him. "He just broke up with me, Damon. Should I really go chasing after him?"
"Well, uh-"
"My aunt died two days ago, and so did my father. Last night, I almost lost you, and today, apparently, I have lost Stefan. The only thing I can conjure up is exhaustion. So I'm going to school, and I'm going to try to have a normal day. I'll see you later."
She tugs her arm from his grasp and walks out of the kitchen. He stands there for a moment, knowing he can't blame her, but he can't follow suit. He has to go find Stefan; and he knows she'll care again when she's not mad anymore. (And knowing Elena and Stefan's track record, that will take approximately 24 hours.)
He runs after her. "I won't be here when you come home. I'm going to go find him."
"You do that," she says, not even looking at him as she swings her backpack onto her shoulder.
"Elena. You know whatever he did, he did it because he thought he had to. Come on."
She turns eyes on him that are hard and cold. "And I'm just doing what I have to, Damon."
She leaves the house, and he calls Caroline, who has an appropriately-sized overreaction to the news that Stefan seems to have willingly gone off with Klaus somewhere.
She gasps, sounds like maybe she's going to hyperventilate in his ear, and says, "What do you want me to do?"
Initially, he thought he would call Ric, take the Vampire Hunter and a few crossbows with him to look, but the truth is, he needs another vampire, and Caroline is his only choice. "Bring Bonnie with you to the Boarding House, I need her to do a locater spell so we can find them."
"You want me to come with you?" She sounds uncertain, maybe afraid.
"I won't let you get hurt," he finds himself promising, which isn't exactly a lie, but he knows if he has to choose between her and his brother, it would be just like choosing between Elena and Bonnie.
The fact that he even hesitates here rattles him.
"It's Stefan, Damon, you know I'd do anything for him. I'm just surprised you're asking for my help."
He waits a beat, realizing that Caroline understands things far better than he gives her credit for. "You and me both," he snarks, waiting.
"Hold on," she says, and there's a long silent moment. "What about Elena?"
"She's not coming."
"Okay, I'll find Bonnie, and we'll be there in twenty."
It takes four days to find them. And by them, Damon means Stefan, Klaus, and about twenty drained bodies. He and Caroline stand in the doorway of an old abandoned house in the middle of Nebraska and just stare at the destruction.
Caroline's hand grips his arm, and revulsion flips Damon's stomach. See, this is where he and Stefan always differed-on this side of things. Damon liked the hunt of one, once in a while. Mostly, he liked the seduction of women, who he used as his meals.
He'd never had the appetite for gluttony, for something that resembled war in the aftermath. Maybe that was because of The War, or maybe he'd have been like that no matter what, but it had never been his way.
It never would be his way, either.
He tries to talk to Stefan, but the brother he knows isn't there. Caroline cries, pleads, and reminds Stefan of all the lessons she'd learned from him, but nothing seems to penetrate. Damon threatens Klaus, and Klaus tosses out one of his devil-may-care grins. "Stefan may leave whenever he likes. Do you want to leave, Stefan?" he purrs.
Damon never takes his eyes off his brother, and Stefan never wavers. He shakes his head, almost wearily, and says, "Go home, Damon."
"What about Elena?"
There's finally a flash in the eyes of a man who endlessly lectured Damon on Vampire Etiquette on and off for 146 years, but then he just turns away, breaking their stare. "Tell her..."
Damon can't imagine telling her anything. He can't imagine Caroline being able to keep it a secret, and he can't compel her now. What the hell is he going to do?
"Tell her whatever you want. This is where I want to be."
Damon gets pissed then and attacks his brother, intent on hog-tying him and taking him back to the Boarding House Rehab Center for the Criminally Insane. Klaus pulls him off, nearly stakes him, just rubs a huge piece of wood on the underside of his heart until the pain nearly makes him black out. Then he promises to kill Caroline if they don't leave them to their machinations.
Caroline ends up dragging Damon from the house, pulls the stake out, and shoves him into the backseat of his own car.
As she drives them away, she sobs out loud for miles, and if Damon wasn't in so much pain, he would tell her to shut up. As it stands, her gulping groans of misery mirror the silent tears that slip down his own cheeks.
They stop when Caroline sees a blood bank. It's four in the morning, so she's in and out without detection. They sit in the backseat together, and Damon drains two bags (normally an injury like this would take at least three, and he notes he feels better much faster than he thought he would) while she sips on one. The silence stretches out and she asks, "Did you know...he was capable of that?"
Damon closes his eyes against the burgeoning sunrise, resting his head against the seat. "Yes-no. Yes, but no," he answers. He knew Stefan was like that once upon a time, but he had no idea he could ever return to that, or that he would want to stay there.
"It makes so much more sense now," Caroline says in a soft voice. "Why he lived the way he did. It's never been like that for me. I've never-I get full, you know? Even though this-" she holds up her bag "-isn't as good as a human being, it's always been sufficient. If I have enough in my system, I'm okay. The only time it's hard to control is when I'm..."
"Upset," he finishes for her. "Or you want to fuck the person."
She flinches a little at his description, but nods. "Yes, and as long as I breathed through it, and thought about how much I didn't want to hurt the person, I've always been able to...not. He taught me that, Damon. Stefan taught me that. How can that be who we saw tonight?"
He doesn't speak for a moment, because he doesn't know what to say. He can't explain it, and, worse, he can't even understand it. So he says the one thing he never imagined could be true of Stefan. "He's given up his humanity."
Maybe it's because Damon has spent these last few months fighting against those innate instincts within himself that he finds it so repellent; all he knows is that whatever he thought himself capable of, even in his darkest moments, it's not that.
(He feels like maybe he never knew Stefan at all.)
"You have to tell Elena the truth," Caroline says, and her hand wraps around his arm. He's not sure if she means her touch to be comforting or an enforcement of sorts, but he doesn't shake her off. He needs something, some sort of direction.
"He'll stay away because he doesn't want her to get hurt," he says, which is true, that's the one thing he knows for sure. That's what he would do, and regardless of the stranger before him in that old house, the flicker of recognition in Stefan's eyes had come when Damon said Elena's name.
"But he wants her to know, otherwise he would have told you not to tell her," Caroline says.
"How do I tell her that?" he asks, opening his eyes and finally turning his head to look at his companion.
"Just say it. Stefan's a ripper. Stefan's the worst possible version of a vampire. Stefan's not coming home." Caroline releases a shaky breath that starts to fog up the windows.
"Stefan loves you too much to ever let you see him like that." Damon says those words because he hopes they're still true.
"That's good," Caroline says, nodding. "Be sure to say that. She'll need to hear it."
He releases a steady stream of swear words, and Caroline's grip on his arm tightens. "You shouldn't say that," she says, and they both laugh half-heartedly.
(I know you love Stefan, that it will always be Stefan. But I love you. You should know that.)
There are so many things he should never have said.
When he gets back to the Boarding House, it's midday, but it's Saturday, and he finds Elena sleeping in his bed of all places. She rolls over when he walks in and throws his jacket over the end of the bedstead.
She's not just sleeping on it; she's in it-under the covers, her hair strewn across his pillow, her tank top and pajama shorts-clad body on his sheets.
He wants to fucking kill himself right then, because he surely can't give her The Big Speech when what he really wants to do is climb in with her and, you know, strip her naked. And kiss her all over. And forget his own torment by losing himself in all her sweet, soft places.
But when she sits up and the blankets pool at her hips and she sees the bloodstains all over his shirt, he has very little time to think about how beautiful and sexy and insanity-provoking she is because she's all over him, checking him for wounds, demanding to know what happened, insisting that he let her help him out of his ruined garments.
It's her hands sliding up under his shirt and over his stomach that gives him the ability to be mean, because he simply cannot take it. "Elena, stop!" he shouts, shoving her away so hard that she falls back against the bed. "I just need you to stop. Get the hell out of here, and give me five minutes to myself, okay?"
Looking wounded, she scurries from the room, and he strips himself down, jumps in the shower and blasts himself with cold water.
When he goes downstairs ten minutes later, she's fully dressed and waiting like a naughty child in the great room. He sits down on the sofa opposite from her and tells her what he and Caroline practiced in the car. (He tells her everything, but he tries to make it as antiseptic as possible. There were multiple dead bodies, he says, not twenty. Stefan seemed detached, not like a completely different person. Damon thinks it's a phase, not a permanent state of being. Okay, the last one is a total lie, but he can't tell her the truth, not about that.)
She's stoic through most of it, but he saves the best for last (Stefan loves you too much to ever let you see him like that; that's why he broke things off) and she finally breaks down, her face crumpling as she covers it with her hands.
He wants to go sit beside her, to hold her, but there is too much conflict of interest, and he just can't do it. So he sends Caroline a text message and she and Bonnie arrive a few minutes later. The girls take Elena up to Damon's room because that's where Elena wants to go, and he doesn't have the heart to tell them they can't.
He listens from downstairs as she cries and asks them why? and says things like, I don't understand and how could he do this and part of me is surprised, but part of me always knew he held back and Damon finally gives up and goes to The Grill. Ric shows up a while later, and they drink at the bar until Damon can't see anything except two Rics, two bartenders, and two Matt Donovans-who obviously wants to ask what's up, but doesn't.
Later, he wakes up on the couch at the Gilbert house and Jeremy is sitting on the wing chair just looking at him.
"Rough night?" the kid asks, one corner of his mouth quirking up.
Damon gives him the finger, because his tongue is so cottony, he can't make words.
Jeremy laughs and Damon lays an arm gently over his eyes to block out the light. He hasn't been this hung-over in a long time, mostly because his body's healing power tends to obliterate the sick feeling long before it can overtake him. He must have ingested far more alcohol than even he could fathom.
"You know, this is a perfect ending, right?" Jeremy asks, and Damon lifts his elbow slightly to give the kid a squinty, questioning eye. "You almost die, your brother saves you, and then he leaves town, paving the way for you to finally get with my sister."
Damon drops his arm back into place, swallows thickly and utters, "Yeah, it's the perfect frigging ending. You got me, Jer, I don't know why I'm not dancing in the streets."
"I didn't say it was a happy ending," Jeremy says with some derision lacing his voice. "It's just perfect, for the situation. Everyone's miserable, but the one guy who caused all the misery, maybe he ends up happy."
"Do I look happy to you?" Damon bites out. He's seriously unprepared to have a battle of wits with Elena's brother right now, especially because Jeremy's just being mean, which is a little unlike him. (And Damon's head hurts like a mother fucker.)
"It's not the end yet, Damon," Jeremy says, and then he stands up and exits the room much to Damon's relief.
He stays on the couch for another twenty minutes or so, until Alaric comes downstairs to join him, and then he sits up very slowly. "How much did we drink?" he asks when Ric doesn't look too bad, but sets a bottle of Gatorade and a couple of Advil on the coffee table at Damon's feet.
"You drank more than me, as usual, but not more than I've ever seen you consume before. But it definitely affected you funny." Ric gestures to his remedies until Damon picks them up and swallows the pills with a mouthful of juice.
"Shit," Damon mutters, rubbing a hand over his face. Maybe Klaus's near-staking of him messed him up more than he originally thought. His body just feels-off. He can't quite put his finger on it. "Why'd you bring me here, anyway?"
"Oh, didn't I tell you?" Ric says brightly. "I moved in. Jeremy invited me, and Elena approved it while you were gone. I'm their new-" he makes air quotes "-guardian. You know, so Child Services doesn't come in and try to put Jer in a Foster home until Elena turns 18."
Damon smirks because Ric's grin is contagious. "Congratulations, it's a boy!" he quips.
Ric's smile just gets wider. "This has been a craptastic week, right? This is the one good thing about it. I got adopted. I think Jenna would like it, too."
Damon's chest squeezes in a weird way. "I'mma start calling you Uncle Ric," he says with a laugh, trying to ignore that feeling-whatever it is that's making him sort of sad.
Ric salutes him smartly. "Sounds good to me."
Elena moves out of the Boarding House. This doesn't surprise Damon, even if it disappoints him. He never thought she'd stay forever, but when he comes home one day and she's lugging a box out with all the things of hers that accumulated over time, there's no way around it. She's moving out.
(When she died during the sacrifice it nullified her house ownership anyway, which they figured out when Katherine let herself into the house to save him. They could redo the contract, and have her sign it again, but there's really no need now.)
Their eyes meet over the box lid as they come face to face in the entry hallway. He moves forward to take it from her automatically, since it's twice as wide as her and definitely heavier than it looks. "Is your trunk unlocked?" he asks, swinging back towards the front door.
Elena runs ahead of him to open it and nods. "Yeah."
They walk out to the car-Jenna's jeep is what Elena's been driving for a couple weeks now-and he shoves the box in the back, noticing that all her other things are already there. "Trying to make your escape while I was gone, huh?" he asks with a smirk as he shoves the tailgate into the locked position.
"No," she says, though her cheeks are faintly pink. "I just had time right now, and I've been meaning to get this stuff for a few days."
"It's okay, Elena. You don't owe me anything." It's not like we were the ones who dated.
"I just feel like I need to be with Jeremy and Alaric. Jeremy's going through something-I don't know; he's distancing himself from Bonnie, and acting kinda strange. I'm worried he's back on drugs. I need to be there."
Damon only nods, because who's gonna argue with that? Not even he can find a way around it.
"We'll still be friends, Damon," she says, moving close to him and embracing him before he can quite read her intent.
He pats her back awkwardly and says, "Sure," because now he wishes he'd been just ten minutes later so he could have avoided this whole scene.
She tightens her arms around his waist and rubs her face against his shoulder. "Do you feel how I'm holding you?" she asks, and she jams her fisted hands into the small of his back. "Wrap your arms around me and give me a proper hug," she instructs.
He scoffs and manages to snark, "Bossy much?" but does as she commands and regrets it instantly. As soon as he pulls her closer, the way her body conforms to his makes him painfully aware that he is rarely this close to her-for good reason.
"We're having a big dinner on Sunday, everyone's invited." She tips her head back so she can look into his face. "You should come."
"I can't," he says, and he puts his hands on her shoulders to gently push her away. He's trying not to look like he's attempting to get away from her, but he sees the way her eyes drop for a moment, signaling that she is very aware of what he's doing.
"Why not?"
"Because I'm going to go get Stefan. This time without Caroline."
"Damon, no..." she starts and the look he gives her seems to silence her.
"You can't talk me out of it, so don't try. You've got to do what you've got to do, Elena, and I understand that. But if it were Jeremy, would you just leave him out there?"
She shakes her head. "No, of course not."
"Then you know I have to go. I have to keep trying."
"For how long, Damon? How long will all of us play this game-the one where we try to make the other one choose what we want them to choose? If you keep making the same mistakes over and over, you're bound to repeat history. And when you live forever, that's a serious problem."
He presses his knuckle under her chin, tipping her face up to his. "You don't have to worry about it anymore," he says.
"Right, because just saying that makes it so." She wraps her hand around his wrist. "Will you call me while you're gone, so I know you're okay?"
His heart trips at this request, and this offering. Like with that moment in her kitchen all those months ago (You lost her too), she still manages to surprise him constantly. "Sure, I will," he replies, like it's no big deal, like he doesn't feel slightly overwhelmed by her concern for him.
She hugs him again before getting in the car. As she drives away, he knows the difference between him and Stefan in a way he never has before. Elena pulled him from the dark-her simple compassion had awakened something in him he didn't even know still existed, and every day that she was in his life, he came a little further away from it-and a little further into the reality that he could be a vampire who lived with conscience, and abode by it. For Stefan, she only confirmed that he did not ever want to be who he feared he'd always been. She didn't have the power to pull him from it, so that left only Damon.
So, he'll do it. Because his brother didn't force him to love Katherine, and he didn't force him to love Elena, but he loved them both; it's only now that it has become a good thing.
He will bring his brother home for Elena, because that's what will make her happy.
He ends up in Tucson, Arizona, in a bar, without Stefan.
"So, what's a fine looking man like you doing in a place like this?" the drawl is affected and Damon lifts his head to scare whoever the hell it is away, but the face is infinitely familiar, though wearing a smirk, so it's not the one he loves now.
It's the one he loved then.
"Katherine," he states, and then he thinks he should have known. He'll never get rid of her, not until he puts a stake through her heart.
"You don't seem surprised to see me," she says, waving to the bartender to bring her one of whatever Damon's drinking.
He shrugs. He's not surprised, because he doesn't care, and he abruptly gets to his feet. There's no reason to waste his evening with her; not when he'd rather be alone.
"I have information you need," she says as he turns to leave.
"I doubt that," he responds, but he pauses, watching her as she throws back the shot the bartender places before her.
"Stefan's got a past I don't think you know about, because somehow Klaus knew a bunch of stuff about him-turns out he came to Mystic Falls to kill the Doppelganger and pick himself up a sidekick monster who would serve his greater purpose."
"His greater purpose? What's that?"
"He's looking for slaves-women he can impregnate and build his race of hybrids for total domination. In the meantime, he and Stefan are wreaking havoc, stirring up fear in little pockets all over the North American continent. They'll move on eventually, to Europe and Asia I suppose. But Klaus's plan doesn't entail a fast process, merely the fun of executing it."
Damon's never heard Katherine provide that much information about anything ever, and he ends up grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her out of the bar, away from open ears and curious minds. In the alleyway he gives her a shove until she's against the outer wall. "You've been running around with them?" he demands. "What, it's you, Klaus, Stefan, and Elijah? Do they take turns with you?"
She gives him a dirty look, as though he actually offended her. "A bit here and there-Klaus is still angry with me, but I manage to elude him from time to time. He killed Elijah again-apparently a Hybrid-Original can use the white ash dagger with no worries." She pauses and then adds, "Stefan's a ripper, Damon. Did you know that?"
The concern he sees in her gaze, something that once would have churned bitterly in his gut now just weighs heavily upon him. "I didn't. Until-I've seen him since he took up with Klaus. He's not himself."
"Apparently he's had a few historical moments, and Klaus knew about them. Stefan had some fame within the circles of information Klaus drew from. I actually think this is him, and he's constrained himself for some time."
"No doubt, making you want him more," Damon says and he presses her into the brick wall.
Her eyes flash and she struggles against his hold; she doesn't overpower him, though he knows she could if she chose to. "If it made him happy, I wouldn't care a whit if he wanted to kill them all, but he's hollow like this, Damon. Not himself is the least of the problem. He's as soulless as you wish you could be, and it's-" she pauses, as though she doesn't have the words for it. "It's heartbreaking."
"If you had a heart," Damon spits.
"Do you want me to say it-explain it? I loved you both, and had things gone the way I'd envisioned, I'd have had you both, all these years. We'd have been perfectly happy in a morally ambiguous three-way, killing as we went, never worrying about the state of our eternal selves. But you both ended up with too much time to think, and I had to choose. So I chose him."
"Then go be with him, Katherine. Spend eternity on a bender. Have at it."
"Don't you understand, Damon? By choosing him, I ensured he will never choose me. Even if he wanted anyone that way now, he would never pick me-a constant reminder of what he sacrificed? Never."
"Your faint resemblance to Elena isn't the only thing that would keep him from you, I'm sure." He pins her hard to the wall and breathes in her face, "But follow him forever, just in case."
He throws himself across the alley and makes his way toward the street, where his parked car waits.
"Will you follow him forever?" she calls.
"If I have to," he retorts, and he means it with all his heart. He'll follow the trail of blood until one of them is dead, because he can't just let it happen.
He's alone in a hotel room on the night of the full moon. His skin is hot and tight and he wonders if the residuals from a werewolf bite are to feel edgy and uncomfortable in the wake of possible death.
He looks at himself in the mirror; watches his eyes turn yellow, sees his teeth change, not into fangs to make blood consumption easier, but something far more sinister. He stumbles backward into the towel rack, and as he sinks to the floor in realization, he tries breathing deeply, concentrating hard on not becoming a werewolf. The longer he focuses on that mantra-Stay as you are, Stay as you are-he feels the fever calm within him.
When it passes, he calls Alaric, who flies from Virginia to Arizona to make sure he's okay.
"I'll call Vanessa," he says and Damon has no idea who that is until Ric reminds him with, "At Duke. Maybe there was something about vampire-werewolf Hybrids, and she just didn't tell us about it."
"Yeah, right," Damon scoffs. "She didn't even know the Sun and the Moon Curse wasn't real."
"Somebody somewhere has to know something," Ric says.
Damon's afraid the only one to ask is Klaus, and he's the last person Damon would want to know he has wolf tendencies. So he and Alaric drive back home, and he calls Caroline to set up a meeting with Tyler Lockwood.
Caroline mediates the meeting to reassure Tyler that Damon isn't going to try to kill him. (They do it at the Boarding House because Carol and Liz have made it clear that they are not okay with Tyler and Caroline hooking up.)
"Sorry about last month, man," Tyler says, shaking Damon's hand all man-to-man.
Damon gives Caroline a what the fuck look and she just nudges his shoulder with hers.
"So, you ever heard of a vampire-werewolf Hybrid?" Damon asks.
Tyler shakes his head. "Not until Caroline told me about Klaus. Jules never said anything to me about anything like that."
"So you don't know anything then? You have no idea how your biting me seems to have turned me into a Hybrid?"
Tyler shakes his head and then reaches inside his jacket, pulling out an old book. "I found this in my dad's stuff, though. It was my ancestor's, George Lockwood's." (God, Damon hated that prick, but maybe he's about to come in handy.) "It's one of his diaries-we've got several of them. In one, he talks about Katherine, and the Moonstone, the Curse, everything. That's all the stuff in the 1860s. But this one, this is from the 1890s, when he came into contact with a Native American who told him a bunch of stuff. It was all mythical, but he wrote it down, just in case it was important. Of course, it never was in his lifetime, but when Caroline told me why you wanted to talk to me, I realized it might be helpful."
Damon reaches across the coffee table and takes the book. "Thanks," he says, and he starts flipping through it. "Have you read it? What does it say?"
"There's nothing about Hybrids-but there is stuff about doppelgangers. And I think that's what affects you. I talked to Elena last week, and she told me that you bit her the night you were dying from my bite. I think that's where it went weird for you."
Damon can't help the look of skepticism that comes over his face. He looks back at Tyler. "That's a lot of conjecture, Wolf Boy."
"But, it makes sense. If you read the journal, you'll understand more. You had doppelganger blood in your system, and then you drank the cure for the wolf bite, right? The journal talks about how the properties of doppelganger blood seal in other properties. Maybe it sealed in the wolf traits, so when you were healed, it changed something about your body chemistry."
He wants to be doubtful, but instead it all makes sense, just like Tyler said. The only good thing about it seems to be that he can control it, unlike Tyler who still has to lock himself up in the cellar once a month. "What happens when you drink alcohol? Do you get drunk? See, before, I could drink, get drunk, but never be sick afterwards. Now, it's like I have that one human quality back-I get a hangover."
Tyler looks puzzled, but answers, "It's just like before I triggered the curse. If I drink too much I get sick, same as everyone else."
Damon stands up and mutters, "That's just great!" Caroline looks at him with concern. "The one thing about being a vampire that was really, really good-no hangovers. Now, I don't even have that!" he snipes. "Fucking Klaus. Fucking Stefan. Fucking Elena. They all should have just let me die."
He steps over Caroline's legs and stalks towards the stairs. "Can I keep this?" he asks Tyler.
"Sure thing, man," Tyler says.
"You guys can hang out here if you want, you know, so you can spend time together. I won't tell your mothers." He leaves them sitting there and goes up to his bedroom.
"He's way nicer than you make him out to be, Caroline," he hears Tyler say.
She snorts. "He's a lot different now."
Elena shows up at the Boarding House a few days later. He hears her come in and he just waits quietly in the library until she finds him.
"Hi," she says timidly from the doorway.
"Hi," he says. He's re-reading George Lockwood's journal for the fifteenth time, but he's come to the same conclusion that Tyler had. Elena's blood had transformed his body into something new and powerful, something else he doesn't want. Something else he doesn't need.
He pondered something else though-and he thinks it's fitting. Elena's influence, her very existence is what had made him change. She had made him want to be different and as hard as it was to go through that, to find a way to live in the tension of it, it makes perfect poetic sense that her blood physically changed him.
(Now that he's not so angry, he can find the irony interesting.)
Besides, he was the one who bit her, and he wouldn't trade that, even though he knows it hurt her. He got to taste her blood. He got a little piece of her that he could in nowise expect to ever have again. Just like those moments of grace on his bed. Her lips pressed gently to his, her whispered words lingering in his ears, his own confession finally heard and remembered forever.
Yeah, he wouldn't change any of it, because it's all he gets, and he's not willing to lose it.
"So, Ric says you're a Hybrid." She stays in the doorway, like maybe she might run away at any given moment.
"Yup," he says, setting George's diary aside.
"How do you feel about that?" she asks.
He shrugs. "Kinda sucks, I guess. But I can control it, so, you know, it doesn't suck for me, say, as much as it does for Tyler."
"I'm sorry, Damon," she says, and she moves forward so quickly it's like a giant hand has ushered her into the room. "I'm so sorry..."
It doesn't matter, he thinks. That's what he wants to say, but he knows that won't make her happy, so he says, "I'll be okay, Elena. Don't worry."
She stands there awkwardly for a minute, and then he can see the tears in her eyes, and he really doesn't know what to make of it. She comes over to the sofa he's sitting on and looks down at him. He reaches for her hand and squeezes it. "Really. I'm alright. Not dead, remember?"
She sits down next to him, hanging on to his hand tightly. Then softly, she says, "I got accepted at Duke. With Ric's help, of course."
Oh, right, college. Oh, to have such simple, human worries. "Cool," he says because he's not sure what she wants from him.
She smiles a little though she never really lets her eyes come all the way up to his. "Yeah, cool. Jenna wanted me to go too a ‘good’ school. And it's not too far. I mean, it's only a three hour drive."
"Right, I remember," he smirks and she laughs, finally looking fully at him. She's sad, that's what it really is. He can see the weight in her eyes, and he wishes he could make it better. "I'm going to go back to looking for Stefan soon," he says, which is true. He'd just been trying to understand what was happening with himself first, but he never forgot that his brother is out in the black somewhere.
(What he needs is to find Elijah, because even though he doesn't trust that guy anymore than he does Klaus, Elijah had been an encyclopedia of information, and he might know a few things about doppelganger blood tricks, too. And since Klaus was the last one to put him down, he might get more serious about killing him for real.)
"You don't have to do that for me," Elena says, her fingers squeezing his.
(She knows him so well.)
"He's my brother, Elena," Damon reminds her, the superiority in his tone just vaguely reminiscent of said brother.
"Right, but he's not your responsibility. It's not your job to go get him and make him come home."
"I should just wait until I hear he's dead?"
She flinches, and he almost rejoices to see some sort of feeling still there. He's sure she's just repressed those emotions because she doesn't want to deal with them. (He knows how it is, not long ago he'd have found someone's jugular to ease his own pain, but now he's shoveling through it all, like everyone else.) "No, you should wait until he asks for your help. Because then, and only then, will you be capable of saving him."
He looks down at their joined hands, and watches as her fingers slide over and then between his. She curls her knuckles around his and wraps her free hand around both of them. Slowly, she brings his hand up to her mouth and presses it against her lips.
He's not sure what the point of this is, but the effect is rather embarrassing. He shifts in his seat a little and then tugs on his hand to end the contact, but she tightens her grip. She's staring at him with those doe eyes, and while he knows she can make him do anything with the right look, he has tried very hard to not make that obvious to her.
(Who the fuck is he kidding? She knows he loves her. What's to hide anymore anyway?)
He has a feeling his poker face isn't working at all right now, and he really wants to kiss her.
(Like possibly more than he's ever wanted to kiss her before, and he's really wanted to kiss her before.)
"Elena..." he says, and it comes out a lot more like a question than he intends it too.
She blinks, and maybe that breaks the spell or something because she lets his hand go and she scoots back just a little, putting a bit more space between them. "Graduation's tomorrow. Will you come?" she asks.
He wants to let go of all the air trapped in his lungs because he was holding his breath for some odd reason, but instead he just swallows and tries to act like he's not turned on from, you know, her kissing his hand. "Do I have to buy you a present?" he asks.
She smiles, a full beautiful grin that brightens her whole face. "Of course!"
He smiles back and says, "Sure, I'll come."
In the weeks following Elena's graduation, Damon doesn't leave town like he planned. Instead, he finds himself at the Gilbert house, hanging out with and stomping Jeremy at Call of Duty ("Vampire reflexes are so not fair!"), eating dinner with them even though he doesn't need to, and in general having an uneventful summer.
(Jeremy is contending with some odd after-effects of returning from the dead à la The Witch's spell. Today is a good day where he's not being a little shithead, and Damon takes it for what it is.)
He hasn’t left town yet because Elena's leaving in a few weeks for North Carolina, and it's the last stretch of time he'll really ever have with her. Even as friends, how long can their relationship realistically go on? She's about to go and get a real life, grow up and do something productive, not linger in a town hoping her ex-boyfriend will show back up, cured from an insanity that no one could have anticipated.
He tells himself as soon as she's gone, he'll go back to looking for Stefan, because what else is he going to do?
(He knows she's right, that until Stefan wants to be fixed there is no point in pursuing him, but Damon can't imagine just letting it go.)
He goes swimming with her, Tyler, Caroline, Bonnie, and Jeremy at the swimming hole. He spends weekends barbequing with Ric, like a couple of old bachelors who are too set in their ways to ever find some sense of permanency with a woman. They both conveniently forget that they are in love with women they can't be with because of death, or you know, an M.I.A. brother. Instead they drink (but not too much), play cards, and go to the movies on a regular basis.
Elena comes to his house and cleans different rooms, forces him to go through boxes of old shit and get rid of stuff that should have been burned decades earlier.
They spend an inordinate amount of time together, which, in turn, causes Damon to spend his alone time jacking off like a teenager because something weird has happened to him where if he can't have Elena he doesn't want anyone. (He tried hooking up with Andie a few times, but it just didn't offer him the boon it used to. And since drinking too much made him feel like crap, he had to abandon most of his old pass times.)
The worst moments are when he catches her looking at him-with something hungry in her expression that nearly destroys the self-control he exercises with strict adherence. It's crazy that the thing he wants is right there, and with a little coercion, he's sure he could have it. But he really only wants her if he can have her, heart and soul, and so he won't take the counterfeit version.
(He just can't, not after everything with Katherine. He can't make those mistakes again, no matter how much he wants to.)
And since it's never gonna happen, he just makes do with being her best good friend.
"Damon," she says as they dig through boxes of clothes that he has no idea who they ever belonged to. "I'm going to miss you, a lot."
He glances up at her, sees that very serious expression on her face, and promises recklessly, "I'll come visit you."
"You will?" she asks, the hint of eagerness in her tone curling through him dangerously.
"Sure, why not?"
She's quiet after that, and he decides he was just casual enough. They both know he'll never really do it.
He kisses her the night before she leaves for college, because he can't help himself.
It's the kiss he always wanted to give her, the one he tried to give her on this very porch months ago, the one that was stolen from both of them by someone who could never value it.
She's not dating his brother anymore (just pining for him), so it's not wrong. It's just a kiss, nothing more, something that won't mortally wound him.
(He hopes.)
He doesn't grab her and hold her against him; he doesn't press his body along hers to show her the claim he's staking. He just cups her face in his hands and thoroughly explores her mouth with his tongue.
He's shaking by the end of it, but he should be. It's goodbye, after all.
Her hands have come up to wrap around his wrists, and she stands close to him after it's over, sharing the heated oxygen between their noses, her eyes closed, her face more beautiful than he can ever remember it being.
"Damon..." she whispers, opening her eyes slowly.
"Shhhh," he intones as he presses his lips to her forehead. "Have a great time," he says, like he's just wishing her well for a few months until he'll see her again.
What he means is have a great life.
I'll always love you.
Remember me when you fall in love.
Or, forget me, and have the best life you can possibly have, which is what you deserve.
He thinks maybe some of that shows in his eyes because she stares up at him like she's gleaning life lessons in those silent seconds that he continues to hold her face in his hands.
Then he lets her go, runs down the porch steps, and jumps in the Camaro.
(The road to hell is paved with good intentions, you know.)
Chapter Three...Exodus (The Journey)