Down a Crooked Path - Chapter Twenty
Title: Down A Crooked Path
Author: fallinangelz21
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries (tv show)
Pairing: Damon/Elena, (Stefan/Katherine), (Caroline/Tyler)
Rating: R
AN: Some loose ends should be burned. Sequel to Self-Inflicted Wounds.
Chapter Twenty - Abort, Fail, Retry, Terminate
Sipping on a late afternoon snack, Stefan stared through the kitchen window, contemplating the best way to help Damon and Elena. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew that a direct approach would have less than zero chance of success - especially with his brother - but he couldn’t wait around and hope that a solution would present itself.
Katherine wasn’t that patient.
He knew he’d only temporarily placated her that morning and that if he didn’t start making some progress, she’d take matters into her own hands…and then things would get messy.
When an impatient Katherine got involved…it usually led to bloodshed.
Stefan had no doubt that his girlfriend’s results-oriented approach would get the job done, he just wasn’t so sure that his brother would appreciate the interference - or survive it.
The kitchen door swung open, pulling his attention away from the window and onto the startled features of his ex. Elena blinked at him, her mouth falling open into a little O of surprise before she shut it again with an audible click. Nervously, she shifted the blood bag from her left hand to her right, eyeing the glass of blood in Stefan’s grasp with barely contained hunger.
Obviously, she’d been expecting to eat alone.
“Hey, Stefan,” she said, masking the faint tremor in her voice with a smile as she crossed the kitchen to the cupboard where the glasses were kept.
“Hey,” he replied with a nod as she busied herself with preparing her meal. Her hands shook slightly as she put the glass into the microwave and pressed a few buttons to warm it up. Stefan wasn’t sure if it was from nerves or hunger.
Probably both.
He remembered the awkwardness of feeding in front of others as a new vampire - or in his case, after Lexi had helped him stifle the Ripper for the first time. Drinking blood wasn’t the same as eating a meal of human food. Blood did more than satisfy the hunger - it ignited the body, setting it on fire in an erotic explosion of heightened senses. Elena had always been so in control, so certain of who she was, that he could only imagine how hard it was for her to feel so…unhinged.
Then again, maybe it was the idea of doing something that felt so intimate in front of an ex-boyfriend.
“Looks like we had the same idea,” Stefan said gesturing with his glass and trying to put her at ease.
“What?” she asked, tearing her gaze away from the microwave as the rich scent of blood permeated the air. Her wide eyes landed on his glass of blood and she relaxed a little. “Oh. Right. Yeah, I um…I figured it might be a good idea to, um, eat before I go.”
“Go?”
“To Jeremy’s party,” Elena said, reminding him of the gathering that was taking place that evening at the Gilbert house. The human boy was leaving the next morning, catching a plane and heading back to his sophomore year at school in Colorado. Despite her outward appearance, the melancholy look in her eye gave her away. Elena wasn’t ready to see her brother go.
“That’s right,” he said softly, sipping the warm blood and savoring the rich, thick liquid as it coated his throat. The microwave dinged, signaling that it was finally done and Elena nearly wrenched the door off its hinges in her haste, snatching the glass from the revolving tray with little care for singed fingers. She downed half of the blood in less than five seconds and probably would have finished it if she hadn’t opened her eyes and caught him watching.
Sheepishly - and with great effort - she lowered the glass to the counter and licked her lips. Not wanting her to feel bad, Stefan knocked back the last half of his blood, gulping it down in a single swallow. Turning his back on her, he went to the sink to rinse the glass. “Are you worried?”
“No,” she replied after a moment, her voice thick with the blood he was sure she’d finished the minute he’d looked away. A second later, she joined him at the sink and rinsed out her glass as well. “Alaric and Jeremy will be the only…humans there. I’ll be fine, but…”
“Better safe than sorry,” Stefan supplied, with an approving nod as she took both of their glasses and put them in the dishwasher. “That’s smart.”
“Yeah, well…” Elena sighed, averting her gaze as he followed her out of the kitchen and into the foyer. “The sooner I figure out how to control the bloodlust the sooner…things can get back to normal.”
“What kind of things?” Stefan asked, seizing upon her emphasis of the word and the opportunity it presented to fish for more information. Fidgeting, Elena dropped her gaze to the floor before glancing around the entryway in silence, prompting him to ask. “Elena? Is something…not going well?”
“No, everything’s fine,” she replied quickly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Caroline and Damon are doing great, I think. I mean, I haven’t killed anybody yet, so that has to mean they’re doing something right.”
“Not killing anybody is a plus,” Stefan agreed, as a sound at the top of the stairs drew her gaze, preventing him from pressing for more details. He watched as a myriad of emotions played out over her unguarded features - love, relief, wariness, desire - and knew without looking that Damon had finally decided to make an appearance.
“Are you ready to go?” Elena asked as his brother joined them at the foot of the stairs, raising her hand as if to touch his arm before letting it fall awkwardly back to her side.
“Yup,” Damon replied, missing the look of distress that flashed across Elena’s face as he busied himself with rolling up the long sleeves of his dark blue button-down.
“You know, you could come, too,” Elena said, turning to Stefan with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Glancing toward the second floor, she took a breath and added. “You and…Katherine.”
Damon snorted.
Chuckling, Stefan shook his head. “Thanks, but I think we’ll pass on this one,” he replied, heading up the stairs. Pausing on the landing between the floors, he added. “Tell Jeremy I said goodbye.”
Elena nodded, falling into step beside Damon as Stefan watched from his place on the landing. His brother opened the front door for Elena, his hand briefly hovering at the small of her back before he closed it into a fist and dropped it back to his side. The unnaturally heavy silence between them practically echoed in the foyer as Damon let the door swing shut naturally. Stefan sighed.
Shit, he thought. I guess that’s the thing.
~*~
Shaky with guilt and uncertainty over his newfound desire to live, Stefan let Elena lead him into the house. He knew that Damon was there, feeling his larger-than-life presence before laying eyes on him.
“Little Boy Lost,” his brother said with his usual condescension, glancing up from his study of a silver pocket watch. Stuffing his free hand into his pocket, Stefan nodded and willingly took the thinly veiled abuse. He was prepared to take more.
He deserved more.
“I’ll be upstairs, okay?” Elena said, squeezing his arm as she looked deeply into his eyes for confirmation that he’d soon join her.
“Okay,” he replied, making a promise with that simple word. He still couldn’t believe that he’d found her, that she could love him despite the monster that lurked beneath his human exterior.
“Good night, Damon,” she added, his brother offering her a tight-lipped smile in return that didn’t quite reach his eyes. She turned away without a backwards glance, holding onto his fingers until the last possible second before disappearing deeper into the house.
Focusing on his brother, Stefan swallowed his pride and slowly advanced into the living room. Damon had helped Elena save his life. After everything - all of the animosity, distrust and outright hostility that Stefan had thrown at him since he’d arrived in town - Damon had still helped him. “Thank you,” he said, hoping that the two inadequate words conveyed the gratitude that he truly felt.
“No, Stefan, thank you,” Damon replied, abandoning the pocket watch in favor of his ever-present glass of alcohol. Sitting heavily on the couch, Stefan let his brother’s mockery and bitterness wash over him, a small price to pay for helping him get clean. “You’re back on Bambi blood, and I’m the big, badass brother again. All is right in the world.”
“I mean it,” Stefan replied, refusing to allow Damon’s attitude to cheapen the moment. “Thank you,” he repeated, warmed by the knowledge that underneath it all, his brother still cared about him. If Damon’s only concern had been keeping the Council off of his back, he could have staked Stefan and been done with it. Somewhere beneath the layers of hatred and grief, the older brother he’d looked up to and loved, still existed. “For…helping her take care of me.”
“You brood too much,” Damon snapped out in response, his eyes flashing in the glow of the flames and catching Stefan off guard. “Everything on the planet is not your fault. My actions, what I do, it’s not your fault. I own them. They belong to me. You’re not allowed to feel my guilt.”
“Do you feel guilt?” Stefan asked, masking his surprise over his brother’s sudden outburst and stifling the flare of hope that warmed his heart. If Damon recognized guilt, felt it, maybe they still had a chance - a chance to coexist peaceably, like brothers.
Like…family.
Damon looked away, irritated and uncomfortable at the same time. “If I wanted to, it’s there,” he admitted, gazing into the flames and taking a drink.
The usual disappointment cut through Stefan even as he nodded in acceptance of Damon’s blunt answer, the brief flash of caring, of humanity, disappearing as quickly as it had risen. Damon, the brother whom he’d welcomed back from the war was gone, in his place, the stranger that he’d become after Katherine Pierce had entered their lives.
Lost in thought, he responded automatically to Damon’s cutting remarks about Katherine and the impact that her non-choice had had on both of their lives. He absorbed Damon’s anger and bitterness, filing it away as he watched his brother leave the room, his parting shot -“It was supposed to be just me Stefan. Just me.”- echoing in the still air.
For a long moment, Stefan stood in the middle of the living room, staring into the flames and fighting the urge to blur out of the front door and glut himself on the first human he found. What had he been thinking? Damon’s anger hadn’t ebbed in the slightest. He truly had helped Elena save him simply to keep the Council off of his back. The wedge that Katherine had driven between them was lodged, deep as ever, into Damon’s heart. Stefan had no idea how to break through that kind of rage and bitter, bitter disappointment.
“If I wanted to, it’s there.”
Suddenly, a spark of hope flared in Stefan’s chest.
Guilt.
Dragging a hand over his face, Stefan settled into one of the chairs, burying the desire to feed by focusing on the glimmer of humanity Damon had unwittingly allowed him to see. He’d admitted that he could feel guilt. Only a few months ago, Damon would have sworn that he had no knowledge of the concept, that he was immune to the soul-crushing ravages of remorse for past actions that could never be changed. Briefly, Stefan considered the small glimpses of humanity that Damon had displayed in the past few months. Compelling Jeremy to forget the pain of Vicki’s horrific and aborted transition, saving Elena the night she’d crashed her car on the road.
Rescuing him from the tomb vampires.
Stefan smiled as the hope blossomed in his chest.
Damon felt - whether it be compassion, the spark of brotherly love or guilt - he felt…something. It didn’t always impact his actions and he was able to ignore it with very little effort, but it was there.
And it was something.
With the right push…
Maybe there was hope for his brother yet.
~*~
…and now he was drowning in it.
Shaking his head, Stefan blurred up the staircase and into his room. With the aid of hindsight, he’d come to realize that Damon’s humanity switch hadn’t been firmly lodged in the off position when he’d arrived in Mystic Falls four years ago. Truth be told, Stefan had long since given up on the idea that the switch even existed at all. It was a myth, an old vampire’s tale that someone had spun in an attempt to ease a guilty conscience.
And it was that guilty conscience that was at the root of the discord between Damon and Elena. Damon’s guilt was suffocating him and in true fashion, his brother was doing his best to punish himself by destroying everything good in his life, including his relationship with the one person who’d always managed to ground him in his humanity.
Elena was strong and Stefan knew from personal experience that when at her best, her love could pull one through the lowest and most desperate time of their life - but she wasn’t at her best. She was a new vampire, drowning in her own sea of unwieldy emotions, desires, confusion and doubt. She needed Damon to be there for her, to guide her through the transition in every way, not just simply help her fight her cravings while simultaneously pushing her away.
Goddammit, Stefan thought, sinking to the edge of his bed. Katherine had been right and if Damon wasn’t careful, his guilt was going to do more than destroy his relationship - it was going to destroy Elena as well.
~*~
Holding a glass of whiskey in one hand, Alaric grabbed a tortilla chip and scooped up a bite of salsa as he surveyed the gathering in the Gilbert kitchen and living room. Jeremy had gone up into the attic and dragged out one of his old video game consoles and was currently challenging Tyler to an old school game of Grand Theft Auto. Caroline and Elena were whispering like a couple of high school girls, so completely human in attitude and appearance that Alaric had to remind himself that the silver ring on Elena’s left middle finger was more than a fashion statement. Damon was being…Damon. Lingering near the alcohol and nursing a glass of bourbon, his gaze never strayed far from Elena.
It all looked perfectly normal.
The underlying tension between Damon and Elena, however, was entirely…not.
There had been countless times when the group of unlikely allies, moved by an unspoken desire to maintain the camaraderie they’d established during a full year of fighting for their lives, had ended up in the Gilbert house just like this. The scene could have been plucked directly from his memories of Elena’s senior year.
Everything may have looked normal…
But it felt completely different.
~*~
Fighting with the strap of his watch, Alaric rushed out of his room, bounding down the stairs on his way to the kitchen. Why the hell did I agree to teach summer school? he wondered as he pictured the stack of papers sitting on the desk in his classroom. Half of the appeal of being a teacher had been the idea of having summers off and yet he’d gone and volunteered to spend June and July cooped up inside.
Grading papers.
I am an idiot.
At the bottom of the stairs, he automatically veered toward the kitchen, intent on grabbing something to eat before beginning his evening of wading through grammatically - and most likely factually - incorrect essays about the war of 1812.
“You can’t be serious,” Damon declared as Alaric entered the kitchen. Standing on one side of the island in the middle of the room, the vampire didn’t even spare him a glance, keeping his incredulous gaze focused squarely on Elena.
“I can and I am,” Elena replied primly, lifting her chin as she faced down her boyfriend from the other side of the island. “We’re both invited and I want you to come with me.”
Alaric raised a brow. Speaking of wars…
“To Bonnie’s birthday party,” Damon said, shaking his head in disbelief as Alaric groaned internally. He’d forgotten about the party. “The same Bonnie who just tried to get you to - what was it? - ‘not settle’ for a no-good, blood-drinking, sorority girl-killing, werewolf-stabbing, evil vampire like me.”
“You are such a drama queen,” Elena retorted, rolling her eyes. “That was over a month ago and she apologized.”
Damon scoffed. “Not to me.”
“Well, maybe if you were willing to share the same city block with her, she’d have an opportunity to do so,” Elena snapped, crossing her arms and glaring at him.
Damon snorted. “Bonnie wouldn’t be able to apologize to me if I were standing in her face. She’d be too busy mumbling witchy spells and gesturing wildly like a crazy person.”
“Am I interrupting something?” Alaric asked, heading for the cupboard next to the microwave and rummaging around for a bowl.
“Ric’s been invited, too,” Elena said, ignoring his greeting in favor of throwing that tidbit of information triumphantly in Damon’s face. “Ric will be there.”
“Ric has papers to grade for the poor bastards stuck in summer school,” the retired vampire hunter clarified, moving on to the cupboard next to the sink and retrieving a box of cereal.
Glancing at the digital clock on the microwave, Damon raised a brow. “Four o’clock’s a little late in the day for breakfast, don’t you think?”
Alaric laughed. “You’re going to comment on my eating habits?” he asked, grabbing a spoon and splashing some milk in the bowl before taking a large bite and chewing defiantly at Damon’s baleful expression.
“You eat like you’re still in grade school.”
“Look, Emeril,” Alaric shrugged, leaning against the counter and taking another, deliberately large bite, before continuing with his mouth full. “You don’t like it, start cooking for me.” Before Damon could formulate a retort, Alaric swallowed and addressed Elena. “Sorry, but I’ve got to get those papers graded.”
“You’re not coming at all?” she asked, crestfallen.
“No, I’ll be there,” Alaric assured her before taking another bite of his cereal. “But I’m going to be late.”
“That’s okay,” she replied, smiling once again before turning triumphantly toward her boyfriend. “See, Ric will be there.”
“Elena, that doesn’t change anything,” Damon argued. “Bonnie doesn’t want me there.”
“Yes, she does,” Elena insisted, throwing up her hands in frustration.
“What part of ‘you don’t have to settle’ is lost on you?” Damon demanded, slowly advancing on Elena. Alaric continued to eat his cereal as he enjoyed the show. Damon and Elena considered this a minor disagreement. Jeremy would have called it a fight. Alaric liked to refer to it as dinner theater.
Judging by the scathing looks Elena was throwing at Damon, he’d come in during act two.
“Bonnie hates vampires,” Damon said, enunciating each word carefully, as if miscommunication was the real problem at the heart of the…disagreement. Placing a hand on his chest, he continued. “I am a vampire - and most likely the main reason she hates vampires.”
“But she invited you!”
“It’s probably a trap so she can brain whammy me to death,” he retorted.
“Ric,” Elena whined, looking to the man and gesturing helplessly in Damon’s direction. “A little help, please?”
“Damon, you should go,” Alaric replied immediately, his attention focused on his cereal as he pointedly ignored Damon’s mutinous glare. “Bonnie’s not going to kill you at her birthday party. It’d be a hell of a mess.”
“She’d just Mary Poppins my remains away.” Damon replied scathingly.
“Oh, my god! Damon! Seriously?!” Elena cried indignantly.
“Just a spoon full of fucking sugar, Elena…”
Completely oblivious to the mounting tension between the vampire and his girlfriend, Jeremy entered the kitchen, making a beeline for the fridge without sparing any of them a glance. Suppressing a chuckle, Alaric shook his head as Damon seized upon the boy’s entrance with the same enthusiasm that Elena had bestowed upon him. “Jeremy will be there,” the vampire said. “You don’t need me, Elena.”
“I’ll be where?” Jeremy asked, holding the refrigerator door open as he stared at them blankly.
“No, Jeremy won’t be there,” Elena replied, shooting a disapproving glance at her brother. “He wasn’t invited.”
“Oh,” the younger man said, returning to his pillaging of the contents in the fridge. “There.”
That’s right, Alaric thought as he remembered the abrupt demise of Jeremy and Bonnie’s relationship a few months prior. Jeremy’s eye into the ghost world hadn’t closed and while Vicki had moved on to whatever it was ghosts on the other side moved on to, Anna had stuck around, causing insurmountable problems for the boy and his witch.
Groaning in disgust, Damon asked. “How do you cheat on someone with a ghost?”
Jeremy started, emerging from the fridge with a can of soda in his hand and a guilty expression on his face. Swallowing, he said. “I, um-.”
“Stop trying to change the subject,” Elena interrupted.
“I’m not,” Damon protested. “There’s just nothing more to say. Bonnie only invited me to make you happy. She hates me.”
Elena groaned. “She doesn’t hate you-.”
“Actually,” Jeremy interrupted, falling silent as his sister sent him a murderous look.
“Jeremy, don’t you dare try to help him,” Elena warned, advancing on her brother as he backed into the closed fridge.
“Let him speak,” Damon said with a grin as he slipped around the island and wrapped his arms around Elena from behind. Struggling half-heartedly against his grasp, Damon held onto her easily. “Actually, what, Jeremy?”
“Jeremy, I swear-,” Elena’s threat was muffled as Damon covered her mouth with his hand.
“Go on,” he said, nodding at the younger man in encouragement as Elena shrieked her indignation into his palm. “Don’t worry, I won’t let her hurt you.”
“I live with a bunch of children,” Alaric mused, calmly eating his cereal as Jeremy let out a burst of laughter. Taking his time now that Elena had been forcibly subdued, he popped the top on the can of soda and took a long drink. Damon waited patiently as Elena dug her elbows ineffectually into his side.
“Well, obviously it’s been awhile since Bonnie and I have really talked, but I don’t think much has changed in the past few months,” Jeremy began, drawing out the suspense as both Damon and Elena hung on his every word. What he said next would decide the winner of the round. Taking another sip of his soda, Jeremy shrugged. “She does kind of hate you, Damon. She probably only invited you to make Elena happy.”
Smirking in triumph, Damon stepped back and released Elena. “Thanks, Jer,” he said smugly as she punched her brother on the arm before turning around to scowl at him. Raising his brows, he shrugged imperiously. “You heard him. Mad Madam Mim hates me and I am not going to go to a party where I am not wanted.”
Elena glared at him for a few more moments before shaking her head and stomping out of the kitchen. Finishing his cereal, Alaric kept an eye on Damon as he rinsed the bowl in the sink and put it into the dishwasher. The sounds of Elena’s heavy footfalls on the staircase echoed throughout the kitchen as she made her way to the bedroom and slammed the door.
Crossing his arms, Alaric leaned against the counter and eyed his friend. “So, you’re going to the party?”
“He will if he ever wants to get laid again,” Jeremy said with a chuckle before Damon could respond.
“Cute, Gilbert,” the vampire muttered as he began backing out of the kitchen. Addressing Alaric, he added. “Yeah, of course I’m going,” before following his girlfriend up the stairs.
Jeremy looked at Alaric in confusion as Damon’s footfalls carried from the staircase. “Am I missing something? Why is Damon going to Bonnie’s party?”
“The same reason he does everything,” Alaric replied, nudging the younger man out of the way so that he could open the fridge and retrieve a bottle of water. He let the heavy door swing shut as he raised his brows. It’s Elena.” He grinned as Jeremy blinked at him in sudden understanding. “I’ll see you later.”
Grabbing his keys off of the hook by the door, Alaric glanced toward the second floor. The door to Elena’s room was closed, but Damon wasn’t standing outside of it, begging for forgiveness, so he assumed that they’d already smoothed things over. Jeremy’s big reveal that Bonnie did, in fact, kind of hate Damon had been better than an engraved invitation. He’d go to that party and spend the entire evening taking every opportunity to drive the witch insane.
Of course, there was another reason that Damon was going to that party. It was the same unspoken, but commonly understood knowledge that fueled every one of his actions.
Damon was in love with Elena and he’d do just about anything to see her smile.
~*~
My, how the times have changed, Alaric thought, setting his empty glass on the counter next to the bottles of alcohol. The love was still there - Alaric doubted it would ever fade - but the tension radiating off of his friend was palpable and a sharp contrast to the last time they’d all been gathered together as a family. Sidling up to the pensive vampire and pretending to consider his options as he eyed Damon from his peripheral vision, Alaric asked. “How’s it going?”
“Fantastic, Ric,” the vampire replied in clipped tones as he took a sip of his drink.
Glancing over his shoulder, Alaric watched Elena and Caroline for a moment. “Elena looks like she’s doing well,” he observed, genuinely relieved by the truth in that statement.
“She is,” Damon agreed, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he swirled the bourbon around in his glass.
Closing his eyes briefly, Alaric sighed and grabbed a bottle of whiskey at random, suddenly more concerned with quantity over quality. He’d been right…and wrong.
Things weren’t just different, they were bad.
“What’s wrong, Damon?” he asked quietly, turning around and leaning against the counter next to him.
“Nothing,” the vampire replied immediately. “Not a goddamn thing.” Finishing his drink, he quickly poured himself another one, still refusing to meet Alaric’s gaze. Taking a gulp of bourbon, Damon shook his head. “What could possibly be wrong, Ric? The bad guy’s dead and I got the girl back. Sure, she only had to die to make it happen, but hey…that was part of the plan, right, so no need to feel bad about it.”
Turning his back on Alaric, Damon stalked out of the room, muttering just loud enough for the teacher to hear him. “Everything’s coming up fucking roses.”
Click here for Part Two!
Author: fallinangelz21
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries (tv show)
Pairing: Damon/Elena, (Stefan/Katherine), (Caroline/Tyler)
Rating: R
AN: Some loose ends should be burned. Sequel to Self-Inflicted Wounds.
Chapter Twenty - Abort, Fail, Retry, Terminate
Sipping on a late afternoon snack, Stefan stared through the kitchen window, contemplating the best way to help Damon and Elena. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew that a direct approach would have less than zero chance of success - especially with his brother - but he couldn’t wait around and hope that a solution would present itself.
Katherine wasn’t that patient.
He knew he’d only temporarily placated her that morning and that if he didn’t start making some progress, she’d take matters into her own hands…and then things would get messy.
When an impatient Katherine got involved…it usually led to bloodshed.
Stefan had no doubt that his girlfriend’s results-oriented approach would get the job done, he just wasn’t so sure that his brother would appreciate the interference - or survive it.
The kitchen door swung open, pulling his attention away from the window and onto the startled features of his ex. Elena blinked at him, her mouth falling open into a little O of surprise before she shut it again with an audible click. Nervously, she shifted the blood bag from her left hand to her right, eyeing the glass of blood in Stefan’s grasp with barely contained hunger.
Obviously, she’d been expecting to eat alone.
“Hey, Stefan,” she said, masking the faint tremor in her voice with a smile as she crossed the kitchen to the cupboard where the glasses were kept.
“Hey,” he replied with a nod as she busied herself with preparing her meal. Her hands shook slightly as she put the glass into the microwave and pressed a few buttons to warm it up. Stefan wasn’t sure if it was from nerves or hunger.
Probably both.
He remembered the awkwardness of feeding in front of others as a new vampire - or in his case, after Lexi had helped him stifle the Ripper for the first time. Drinking blood wasn’t the same as eating a meal of human food. Blood did more than satisfy the hunger - it ignited the body, setting it on fire in an erotic explosion of heightened senses. Elena had always been so in control, so certain of who she was, that he could only imagine how hard it was for her to feel so…unhinged.
Then again, maybe it was the idea of doing something that felt so intimate in front of an ex-boyfriend.
“Looks like we had the same idea,” Stefan said gesturing with his glass and trying to put her at ease.
“What?” she asked, tearing her gaze away from the microwave as the rich scent of blood permeated the air. Her wide eyes landed on his glass of blood and she relaxed a little. “Oh. Right. Yeah, I um…I figured it might be a good idea to, um, eat before I go.”
“Go?”
“To Jeremy’s party,” Elena said, reminding him of the gathering that was taking place that evening at the Gilbert house. The human boy was leaving the next morning, catching a plane and heading back to his sophomore year at school in Colorado. Despite her outward appearance, the melancholy look in her eye gave her away. Elena wasn’t ready to see her brother go.
“That’s right,” he said softly, sipping the warm blood and savoring the rich, thick liquid as it coated his throat. The microwave dinged, signaling that it was finally done and Elena nearly wrenched the door off its hinges in her haste, snatching the glass from the revolving tray with little care for singed fingers. She downed half of the blood in less than five seconds and probably would have finished it if she hadn’t opened her eyes and caught him watching.
Sheepishly - and with great effort - she lowered the glass to the counter and licked her lips. Not wanting her to feel bad, Stefan knocked back the last half of his blood, gulping it down in a single swallow. Turning his back on her, he went to the sink to rinse the glass. “Are you worried?”
“No,” she replied after a moment, her voice thick with the blood he was sure she’d finished the minute he’d looked away. A second later, she joined him at the sink and rinsed out her glass as well. “Alaric and Jeremy will be the only…humans there. I’ll be fine, but…”
“Better safe than sorry,” Stefan supplied, with an approving nod as she took both of their glasses and put them in the dishwasher. “That’s smart.”
“Yeah, well…” Elena sighed, averting her gaze as he followed her out of the kitchen and into the foyer. “The sooner I figure out how to control the bloodlust the sooner…things can get back to normal.”
“What kind of things?” Stefan asked, seizing upon her emphasis of the word and the opportunity it presented to fish for more information. Fidgeting, Elena dropped her gaze to the floor before glancing around the entryway in silence, prompting him to ask. “Elena? Is something…not going well?”
“No, everything’s fine,” she replied quickly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Caroline and Damon are doing great, I think. I mean, I haven’t killed anybody yet, so that has to mean they’re doing something right.”
“Not killing anybody is a plus,” Stefan agreed, as a sound at the top of the stairs drew her gaze, preventing him from pressing for more details. He watched as a myriad of emotions played out over her unguarded features - love, relief, wariness, desire - and knew without looking that Damon had finally decided to make an appearance.
“Are you ready to go?” Elena asked as his brother joined them at the foot of the stairs, raising her hand as if to touch his arm before letting it fall awkwardly back to her side.
“Yup,” Damon replied, missing the look of distress that flashed across Elena’s face as he busied himself with rolling up the long sleeves of his dark blue button-down.
“You know, you could come, too,” Elena said, turning to Stefan with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Glancing toward the second floor, she took a breath and added. “You and…Katherine.”
Damon snorted.
Chuckling, Stefan shook his head. “Thanks, but I think we’ll pass on this one,” he replied, heading up the stairs. Pausing on the landing between the floors, he added. “Tell Jeremy I said goodbye.”
Elena nodded, falling into step beside Damon as Stefan watched from his place on the landing. His brother opened the front door for Elena, his hand briefly hovering at the small of her back before he closed it into a fist and dropped it back to his side. The unnaturally heavy silence between them practically echoed in the foyer as Damon let the door swing shut naturally. Stefan sighed.
Shit, he thought. I guess that’s the thing.
~*~
Shaky with guilt and uncertainty over his newfound desire to live, Stefan let Elena lead him into the house. He knew that Damon was there, feeling his larger-than-life presence before laying eyes on him.
“Little Boy Lost,” his brother said with his usual condescension, glancing up from his study of a silver pocket watch. Stuffing his free hand into his pocket, Stefan nodded and willingly took the thinly veiled abuse. He was prepared to take more.
He deserved more.
“I’ll be upstairs, okay?” Elena said, squeezing his arm as she looked deeply into his eyes for confirmation that he’d soon join her.
“Okay,” he replied, making a promise with that simple word. He still couldn’t believe that he’d found her, that she could love him despite the monster that lurked beneath his human exterior.
“Good night, Damon,” she added, his brother offering her a tight-lipped smile in return that didn’t quite reach his eyes. She turned away without a backwards glance, holding onto his fingers until the last possible second before disappearing deeper into the house.
Focusing on his brother, Stefan swallowed his pride and slowly advanced into the living room. Damon had helped Elena save his life. After everything - all of the animosity, distrust and outright hostility that Stefan had thrown at him since he’d arrived in town - Damon had still helped him. “Thank you,” he said, hoping that the two inadequate words conveyed the gratitude that he truly felt.
“No, Stefan, thank you,” Damon replied, abandoning the pocket watch in favor of his ever-present glass of alcohol. Sitting heavily on the couch, Stefan let his brother’s mockery and bitterness wash over him, a small price to pay for helping him get clean. “You’re back on Bambi blood, and I’m the big, badass brother again. All is right in the world.”
“I mean it,” Stefan replied, refusing to allow Damon’s attitude to cheapen the moment. “Thank you,” he repeated, warmed by the knowledge that underneath it all, his brother still cared about him. If Damon’s only concern had been keeping the Council off of his back, he could have staked Stefan and been done with it. Somewhere beneath the layers of hatred and grief, the older brother he’d looked up to and loved, still existed. “For…helping her take care of me.”
“You brood too much,” Damon snapped out in response, his eyes flashing in the glow of the flames and catching Stefan off guard. “Everything on the planet is not your fault. My actions, what I do, it’s not your fault. I own them. They belong to me. You’re not allowed to feel my guilt.”
“Do you feel guilt?” Stefan asked, masking his surprise over his brother’s sudden outburst and stifling the flare of hope that warmed his heart. If Damon recognized guilt, felt it, maybe they still had a chance - a chance to coexist peaceably, like brothers.
Like…family.
Damon looked away, irritated and uncomfortable at the same time. “If I wanted to, it’s there,” he admitted, gazing into the flames and taking a drink.
The usual disappointment cut through Stefan even as he nodded in acceptance of Damon’s blunt answer, the brief flash of caring, of humanity, disappearing as quickly as it had risen. Damon, the brother whom he’d welcomed back from the war was gone, in his place, the stranger that he’d become after Katherine Pierce had entered their lives.
Lost in thought, he responded automatically to Damon’s cutting remarks about Katherine and the impact that her non-choice had had on both of their lives. He absorbed Damon’s anger and bitterness, filing it away as he watched his brother leave the room, his parting shot -“It was supposed to be just me Stefan. Just me.”- echoing in the still air.
For a long moment, Stefan stood in the middle of the living room, staring into the flames and fighting the urge to blur out of the front door and glut himself on the first human he found. What had he been thinking? Damon’s anger hadn’t ebbed in the slightest. He truly had helped Elena save him simply to keep the Council off of his back. The wedge that Katherine had driven between them was lodged, deep as ever, into Damon’s heart. Stefan had no idea how to break through that kind of rage and bitter, bitter disappointment.
“If I wanted to, it’s there.”
Suddenly, a spark of hope flared in Stefan’s chest.
Guilt.
Dragging a hand over his face, Stefan settled into one of the chairs, burying the desire to feed by focusing on the glimmer of humanity Damon had unwittingly allowed him to see. He’d admitted that he could feel guilt. Only a few months ago, Damon would have sworn that he had no knowledge of the concept, that he was immune to the soul-crushing ravages of remorse for past actions that could never be changed. Briefly, Stefan considered the small glimpses of humanity that Damon had displayed in the past few months. Compelling Jeremy to forget the pain of Vicki’s horrific and aborted transition, saving Elena the night she’d crashed her car on the road.
Rescuing him from the tomb vampires.
Stefan smiled as the hope blossomed in his chest.
Damon felt - whether it be compassion, the spark of brotherly love or guilt - he felt…something. It didn’t always impact his actions and he was able to ignore it with very little effort, but it was there.
And it was something.
With the right push…
Maybe there was hope for his brother yet.
~*~
…and now he was drowning in it.
Shaking his head, Stefan blurred up the staircase and into his room. With the aid of hindsight, he’d come to realize that Damon’s humanity switch hadn’t been firmly lodged in the off position when he’d arrived in Mystic Falls four years ago. Truth be told, Stefan had long since given up on the idea that the switch even existed at all. It was a myth, an old vampire’s tale that someone had spun in an attempt to ease a guilty conscience.
And it was that guilty conscience that was at the root of the discord between Damon and Elena. Damon’s guilt was suffocating him and in true fashion, his brother was doing his best to punish himself by destroying everything good in his life, including his relationship with the one person who’d always managed to ground him in his humanity.
Elena was strong and Stefan knew from personal experience that when at her best, her love could pull one through the lowest and most desperate time of their life - but she wasn’t at her best. She was a new vampire, drowning in her own sea of unwieldy emotions, desires, confusion and doubt. She needed Damon to be there for her, to guide her through the transition in every way, not just simply help her fight her cravings while simultaneously pushing her away.
Goddammit, Stefan thought, sinking to the edge of his bed. Katherine had been right and if Damon wasn’t careful, his guilt was going to do more than destroy his relationship - it was going to destroy Elena as well.
~*~
Holding a glass of whiskey in one hand, Alaric grabbed a tortilla chip and scooped up a bite of salsa as he surveyed the gathering in the Gilbert kitchen and living room. Jeremy had gone up into the attic and dragged out one of his old video game consoles and was currently challenging Tyler to an old school game of Grand Theft Auto. Caroline and Elena were whispering like a couple of high school girls, so completely human in attitude and appearance that Alaric had to remind himself that the silver ring on Elena’s left middle finger was more than a fashion statement. Damon was being…Damon. Lingering near the alcohol and nursing a glass of bourbon, his gaze never strayed far from Elena.
It all looked perfectly normal.
The underlying tension between Damon and Elena, however, was entirely…not.
There had been countless times when the group of unlikely allies, moved by an unspoken desire to maintain the camaraderie they’d established during a full year of fighting for their lives, had ended up in the Gilbert house just like this. The scene could have been plucked directly from his memories of Elena’s senior year.
Everything may have looked normal…
But it felt completely different.
~*~
Fighting with the strap of his watch, Alaric rushed out of his room, bounding down the stairs on his way to the kitchen. Why the hell did I agree to teach summer school? he wondered as he pictured the stack of papers sitting on the desk in his classroom. Half of the appeal of being a teacher had been the idea of having summers off and yet he’d gone and volunteered to spend June and July cooped up inside.
Grading papers.
I am an idiot.
At the bottom of the stairs, he automatically veered toward the kitchen, intent on grabbing something to eat before beginning his evening of wading through grammatically - and most likely factually - incorrect essays about the war of 1812.
“You can’t be serious,” Damon declared as Alaric entered the kitchen. Standing on one side of the island in the middle of the room, the vampire didn’t even spare him a glance, keeping his incredulous gaze focused squarely on Elena.
“I can and I am,” Elena replied primly, lifting her chin as she faced down her boyfriend from the other side of the island. “We’re both invited and I want you to come with me.”
Alaric raised a brow. Speaking of wars…
“To Bonnie’s birthday party,” Damon said, shaking his head in disbelief as Alaric groaned internally. He’d forgotten about the party. “The same Bonnie who just tried to get you to - what was it? - ‘not settle’ for a no-good, blood-drinking, sorority girl-killing, werewolf-stabbing, evil vampire like me.”
“You are such a drama queen,” Elena retorted, rolling her eyes. “That was over a month ago and she apologized.”
Damon scoffed. “Not to me.”
“Well, maybe if you were willing to share the same city block with her, she’d have an opportunity to do so,” Elena snapped, crossing her arms and glaring at him.
Damon snorted. “Bonnie wouldn’t be able to apologize to me if I were standing in her face. She’d be too busy mumbling witchy spells and gesturing wildly like a crazy person.”
“Am I interrupting something?” Alaric asked, heading for the cupboard next to the microwave and rummaging around for a bowl.
“Ric’s been invited, too,” Elena said, ignoring his greeting in favor of throwing that tidbit of information triumphantly in Damon’s face. “Ric will be there.”
“Ric has papers to grade for the poor bastards stuck in summer school,” the retired vampire hunter clarified, moving on to the cupboard next to the sink and retrieving a box of cereal.
Glancing at the digital clock on the microwave, Damon raised a brow. “Four o’clock’s a little late in the day for breakfast, don’t you think?”
Alaric laughed. “You’re going to comment on my eating habits?” he asked, grabbing a spoon and splashing some milk in the bowl before taking a large bite and chewing defiantly at Damon’s baleful expression.
“You eat like you’re still in grade school.”
“Look, Emeril,” Alaric shrugged, leaning against the counter and taking another, deliberately large bite, before continuing with his mouth full. “You don’t like it, start cooking for me.” Before Damon could formulate a retort, Alaric swallowed and addressed Elena. “Sorry, but I’ve got to get those papers graded.”
“You’re not coming at all?” she asked, crestfallen.
“No, I’ll be there,” Alaric assured her before taking another bite of his cereal. “But I’m going to be late.”
“That’s okay,” she replied, smiling once again before turning triumphantly toward her boyfriend. “See, Ric will be there.”
“Elena, that doesn’t change anything,” Damon argued. “Bonnie doesn’t want me there.”
“Yes, she does,” Elena insisted, throwing up her hands in frustration.
“What part of ‘you don’t have to settle’ is lost on you?” Damon demanded, slowly advancing on Elena. Alaric continued to eat his cereal as he enjoyed the show. Damon and Elena considered this a minor disagreement. Jeremy would have called it a fight. Alaric liked to refer to it as dinner theater.
Judging by the scathing looks Elena was throwing at Damon, he’d come in during act two.
“Bonnie hates vampires,” Damon said, enunciating each word carefully, as if miscommunication was the real problem at the heart of the…disagreement. Placing a hand on his chest, he continued. “I am a vampire - and most likely the main reason she hates vampires.”
“But she invited you!”
“It’s probably a trap so she can brain whammy me to death,” he retorted.
“Ric,” Elena whined, looking to the man and gesturing helplessly in Damon’s direction. “A little help, please?”
“Damon, you should go,” Alaric replied immediately, his attention focused on his cereal as he pointedly ignored Damon’s mutinous glare. “Bonnie’s not going to kill you at her birthday party. It’d be a hell of a mess.”
“She’d just Mary Poppins my remains away.” Damon replied scathingly.
“Oh, my god! Damon! Seriously?!” Elena cried indignantly.
“Just a spoon full of fucking sugar, Elena…”
Completely oblivious to the mounting tension between the vampire and his girlfriend, Jeremy entered the kitchen, making a beeline for the fridge without sparing any of them a glance. Suppressing a chuckle, Alaric shook his head as Damon seized upon the boy’s entrance with the same enthusiasm that Elena had bestowed upon him. “Jeremy will be there,” the vampire said. “You don’t need me, Elena.”
“I’ll be where?” Jeremy asked, holding the refrigerator door open as he stared at them blankly.
“No, Jeremy won’t be there,” Elena replied, shooting a disapproving glance at her brother. “He wasn’t invited.”
“Oh,” the younger man said, returning to his pillaging of the contents in the fridge. “There.”
That’s right, Alaric thought as he remembered the abrupt demise of Jeremy and Bonnie’s relationship a few months prior. Jeremy’s eye into the ghost world hadn’t closed and while Vicki had moved on to whatever it was ghosts on the other side moved on to, Anna had stuck around, causing insurmountable problems for the boy and his witch.
Groaning in disgust, Damon asked. “How do you cheat on someone with a ghost?”
Jeremy started, emerging from the fridge with a can of soda in his hand and a guilty expression on his face. Swallowing, he said. “I, um-.”
“Stop trying to change the subject,” Elena interrupted.
“I’m not,” Damon protested. “There’s just nothing more to say. Bonnie only invited me to make you happy. She hates me.”
Elena groaned. “She doesn’t hate you-.”
“Actually,” Jeremy interrupted, falling silent as his sister sent him a murderous look.
“Jeremy, don’t you dare try to help him,” Elena warned, advancing on her brother as he backed into the closed fridge.
“Let him speak,” Damon said with a grin as he slipped around the island and wrapped his arms around Elena from behind. Struggling half-heartedly against his grasp, Damon held onto her easily. “Actually, what, Jeremy?”
“Jeremy, I swear-,” Elena’s threat was muffled as Damon covered her mouth with his hand.
“Go on,” he said, nodding at the younger man in encouragement as Elena shrieked her indignation into his palm. “Don’t worry, I won’t let her hurt you.”
“I live with a bunch of children,” Alaric mused, calmly eating his cereal as Jeremy let out a burst of laughter. Taking his time now that Elena had been forcibly subdued, he popped the top on the can of soda and took a long drink. Damon waited patiently as Elena dug her elbows ineffectually into his side.
“Well, obviously it’s been awhile since Bonnie and I have really talked, but I don’t think much has changed in the past few months,” Jeremy began, drawing out the suspense as both Damon and Elena hung on his every word. What he said next would decide the winner of the round. Taking another sip of his soda, Jeremy shrugged. “She does kind of hate you, Damon. She probably only invited you to make Elena happy.”
Smirking in triumph, Damon stepped back and released Elena. “Thanks, Jer,” he said smugly as she punched her brother on the arm before turning around to scowl at him. Raising his brows, he shrugged imperiously. “You heard him. Mad Madam Mim hates me and I am not going to go to a party where I am not wanted.”
Elena glared at him for a few more moments before shaking her head and stomping out of the kitchen. Finishing his cereal, Alaric kept an eye on Damon as he rinsed the bowl in the sink and put it into the dishwasher. The sounds of Elena’s heavy footfalls on the staircase echoed throughout the kitchen as she made her way to the bedroom and slammed the door.
Crossing his arms, Alaric leaned against the counter and eyed his friend. “So, you’re going to the party?”
“He will if he ever wants to get laid again,” Jeremy said with a chuckle before Damon could respond.
“Cute, Gilbert,” the vampire muttered as he began backing out of the kitchen. Addressing Alaric, he added. “Yeah, of course I’m going,” before following his girlfriend up the stairs.
Jeremy looked at Alaric in confusion as Damon’s footfalls carried from the staircase. “Am I missing something? Why is Damon going to Bonnie’s party?”
“The same reason he does everything,” Alaric replied, nudging the younger man out of the way so that he could open the fridge and retrieve a bottle of water. He let the heavy door swing shut as he raised his brows. It’s Elena.” He grinned as Jeremy blinked at him in sudden understanding. “I’ll see you later.”
Grabbing his keys off of the hook by the door, Alaric glanced toward the second floor. The door to Elena’s room was closed, but Damon wasn’t standing outside of it, begging for forgiveness, so he assumed that they’d already smoothed things over. Jeremy’s big reveal that Bonnie did, in fact, kind of hate Damon had been better than an engraved invitation. He’d go to that party and spend the entire evening taking every opportunity to drive the witch insane.
Of course, there was another reason that Damon was going to that party. It was the same unspoken, but commonly understood knowledge that fueled every one of his actions.
Damon was in love with Elena and he’d do just about anything to see her smile.
~*~
My, how the times have changed, Alaric thought, setting his empty glass on the counter next to the bottles of alcohol. The love was still there - Alaric doubted it would ever fade - but the tension radiating off of his friend was palpable and a sharp contrast to the last time they’d all been gathered together as a family. Sidling up to the pensive vampire and pretending to consider his options as he eyed Damon from his peripheral vision, Alaric asked. “How’s it going?”
“Fantastic, Ric,” the vampire replied in clipped tones as he took a sip of his drink.
Glancing over his shoulder, Alaric watched Elena and Caroline for a moment. “Elena looks like she’s doing well,” he observed, genuinely relieved by the truth in that statement.
“She is,” Damon agreed, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he swirled the bourbon around in his glass.
Closing his eyes briefly, Alaric sighed and grabbed a bottle of whiskey at random, suddenly more concerned with quantity over quality. He’d been right…and wrong.
Things weren’t just different, they were bad.
“What’s wrong, Damon?” he asked quietly, turning around and leaning against the counter next to him.
“Nothing,” the vampire replied immediately. “Not a goddamn thing.” Finishing his drink, he quickly poured himself another one, still refusing to meet Alaric’s gaze. Taking a gulp of bourbon, Damon shook his head. “What could possibly be wrong, Ric? The bad guy’s dead and I got the girl back. Sure, she only had to die to make it happen, but hey…that was part of the plan, right, so no need to feel bad about it.”
Turning his back on Alaric, Damon stalked out of the room, muttering just loud enough for the teacher to hear him. “Everything’s coming up fucking roses.”
Click here for Part Two!