fanfiction: The Secret Faces of Damon Salvatore

[gustavine]

Chapter 5, you guys! Let me apologize beforehand if this feels more like a bridging chapter but I felt it was necessary. And since I'm currently writing on the next one, and having a blast doing so ;), I think, or hope, that it'll be worth it. As usual, thanks goes out to my dear beta waltzmatildah !

Maybe you'll find something to enjoy anyway?! Whatever the case, please let me know!


Chapter 5: A Conversation Between Women

The following night is not one of her best; she keeps tossing and turning, twisting in her sheets while fruitlessly trying to decipher the hundreds of different thoughts and emotions that are coursing through her mind. All this time she is spending with Damon is starting to mess with her head. She feels like she’s slowly losing the ground beneath her feet, falling upside down and changing into a new, unknown Elena who reacts differently, thinks differently and, most of all, has emotions that are so strong and foreign that it scares her.

When it’s finally getting light outside she immediately gets up to take a shower and does her best to ignore her pale, tired face in the bathroom mirror. It’s only when she hears Damon get up on the other side of the door that she remembers where he went last night and why. She waits five safe minutes in order to not disturb him in any state of undress, which would be so unnecessary the way things are right now. Then she emerges hesitantly from the bathroom, her eyes still downcast, although checking with a little glance that he is in fact, thankfully, completely dressed.

“Did you find anything yesterday at the police station?” She doesn’t exactly look at him, so she misses the strangely covert look that passes Damon’s face for a second.

“That depends on what you’re looking for”, he answers her slowly. “There was another note and if my abilities of deduction don’t mislead me, Klaus is well aware of the fact that we’re following him.”

“What do you mean he knows we’re following him?” Her sharp intake of breath sounds slightly panicked.

“Just that, he knows it and it seems to amuse him, world’s biggest asshole that he is. The message went somewhere along the lines of just keep on chasing us, we’ll be faster anyway and oh, yes try to have fun along the way.”

Something about this last bit sounds suspicious to her ears so she asks sternly to see the note.

“Sorry, I felt a bit enraged after reading it so I might have ripped it to shreds and dumped it in the gutter; you know me and my temper…” Although his apologetic, not at all sorry, smirk is pretty convincing and completely in character, Elena has the mounting feeling that he’s not telling her the whole truth.

“You wouldn’t try to keep something from me now, would you? Surely not you?” Her scrutinizing stare would probably be more convincing if she were able to hold it longer but she has difficulties meeting his eyes now for more than five seconds, afraid of all the things that her own might give away in front of him.

“Elena, have I ever done that?” he gives her big eyes, as innocent as his can possibly get.

She realizes it’s not exactly an answer to her question but the thought of what might be bad enough to make him not want to tell her outright about it causes her to hold back from further inquiries. Maybe Damon senses some of her worries because the next second he’s standing closer to her, aiming to meet her gaze for real this time.

“We’re heading for Atlanta today, I don’t care where they decide to behave badly next. Let’s forget about them for a day, okay?”

Of course she doesn’t accept his offer. She may be unsure about her feelings lately but that doesn’t mean that she’d suddenly start to behave irresponsible and look out for her own enjoyment.

“Absolutely not!” she rages. “This is a rescue mission, not some kind of vacation in case you have forgotten. We don’t just take a day off to have some fun!”

“Would you please take a look at yourself for a minute, Elena?” he says gently, not joining her in her temper fit this time. “You just got over some weird sickness, you haven’t been sleeping at all last night, you still look underfed and now you’re practically shaking and can’t even look me in the eye any longer. If there ever was somebody who needed a day off it would be you, plus, you’re of absolutely no use to Stefan if you’re strung up like a crack addict as well.”

Elena really wants to give a sharp reply but she’s pretty sure that she will dissolve into tears the minute she tries to say something. Kindness shown by Damon is always more overwhelming than if it comes from any other person because it’s so rare and not to mention he’s actually telling the truth; she’s shaking like a leaf, fighting lack of sleep and an overdose of unwanted emotions. So she just nods hesitantly, breathes “Okay” and is infinitely grateful that he’s not touching her in any way. One contact would be enough right now to transform her into a tear flooded nervous wreck.

When they’re speeding along the highway half an hour later, the roof of the car down, the sun in the back coloring her hair golden, she can already feel her muscles loosen up as she leaves behind slaughtered bodies and painfully wonderful smelling shirts.

“Where are you taking me anyway?”, she asks in a tone that is still pretending to be mad at him. “Are you planning to soothe my nerves by booking the penthouse for us?” Maybe she hadn’t wanted it to come out quite that hopeful.

“Sorry to disappoint you”, he answers her cheerily, “but we’re actually crashing at an ex lover’s of mine’s.”

Surely she must have misheard him. “I’m sorry, did you just say that you’re planning on spending the night in the house of an ex-lover of yours?”

“No need to worry, it ended in a natural way.” Again, his small smile hints at a private joke but this time she doesn’t even consider asking further.

The neighborhood where he finally slows the car is decent and charming, rows of colorful, painted houses with carefully manicured front yards, some of them less attentively cultivated. Damon, of course, stops in front of the house with the most overgrown fence and feral lawn, though it’s also the most colorful one. Whatever she might have expected after hearing “ex-lover”, it surely wasn’t this. The woman who opens the door must be in her late sixties or early seventies which gives a whole new perspective to Damon’s earlier remark. For a woman this age, she is remarkably beautiful. Under the wrinkled but healthy looking skin, her bone structure remains graceful, her huge grey eyes still clear and dominant in her face. The luxuriant white hair is combed back in a long braid and she’s clothed in an elegant woolen dress. As she realizes whom she just opened her door to her shoulder slumps a little against the door frame.

“Damon”, she breathes finally, her eyes raking over him. An instant later a warm, solemn smile breaks out on her face as she stretches her hands towards him. “Come here.”

He takes one step forward and the woman lays her head on his chest as her hands stroke over his back in long, sure movements. When she releases him after a while her lashes are glistening and she has to wipe at them with an embarrassed smile.

“Oh Eva”, Damon sighs. “What now?”

“Nothing, nothing”, she assures him with a playful slap on the arm. “It’s just been a while and now you’re here, looking so different, better, mostly - but also worse…”

Her grey eyes are clearly questioning him but Damon seems to decide to ignore her and instead pushes Elena forwards a bit, giving her shoulder an assuring squeeze.

“Eva, this is Elena, Stefan’s girlfriend.” The woman’s smile makes her feel welcomed instantly, warm and open like it is. There is also a certain quality to her eyes that lets them appear unusually perceptive and sympathetic. All of it causes Elena to take an instant liking to Eva, to feel like she can completely trust her even if it’s based on nothing more than a hunch.

After Damon gives a short explanation about their plans, Eva shows them upstairs where Elena gets some minutes alone in a cozy room overlooking the garden, enjoying the unmistakable atmosphere of a real, lived-in home after weeks of impersonal hotel rooms. As she makes her way back downstairs to the kitchen, she finds them standing very close to each other at the window while Damon is speaking urgently in a low voice. He looks up when she enters and grabs his jacket from the chair.

“I’m heading out for a while, will you be okay with Eva?” His hand is already touching the doorknob.

“Yeah, sure”, she replies, as if there is anything else she could say. “But where are you - ….never mind”, she finishes lamely as the sound of the closing door echoes in the kitchen. Luckily, Eva lowers her arm so quickly on her shoulders that she has barely any time to feel neglected or offended.

“You can help me prepare dinner, if you like”, she suggest, making it somehow sound like an exciting plan. Sure enough, cutting vegetables in neat pieces and smelling the different frying spices does turn out to have an, if not exciting, at least calming effect on her.

“So, how did you two meet?” Elena asks, cutting the onions into tiny pieces while Eva chops a bushel of herbs on the other side of the table.

“During the Vietnam War, after I’d received notice that my husband was gone missing. Our exact meeting though is nothing out of the ordinary. I think he just saw me on the street. And I saw him.” A small, sentimental smile is playing around her lips as she recalls that day. “I had a difficult time back then, the uncertainty of my husband’s whereabouts, or whether he was still alive, it was torturous. Damon took the sting of loneliness away.” Elena tries hard not to let her bewilderment show but some of it seems to be noticed by Eva. “I know what you’re thinking: what a vile thing to do, having an affair with another man while the husband is off fighting a war. Maybe you’re right, most people would probably think very little of me for it. However, I rarely found that the moral rules of our society apply to the reality of my life. Damon was the most extraordinary man I had ever seen, he still is, actually. There was no preventing my mind from committing adultery the minute I saw him, acting on it was only the rightful consequence to it in my eyes. You don’t meet a person for nothing in your life, there was something to learn for me from Damon and something I could give to him in return.”

“And what was that?” Elena has to ask, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Well, he obviously widened my horizon, made me see my own talents in a new perspective - I’ll tell you later more about it,” she adds as she catches Elena’s curious look. “And, like I said, he took my loneliness away. As for what I could give him, I always like to think that I was able to soothe his pain, at least for a while, relieve a little of this inhuman hurt that he was carrying. And, of course, I taught him the ways of a woman’s body - although, he was quite acquainted with those already, to be honest…” Her girlish giggle makes it easy for Elena to picture her as the young woman she must have been in the 70’s.

“Sometimes I wonder if he ever had a relationship with a woman that didn’t involve sleeping with her...” The words are slipping out of Elena’s mouth before she can really think them through.

“That’s a pretty young comment to make”, Eva replies in a musing tone and although her smile remains friendly and understanding, Elena can’t quite shake the feeling that she is being scolded. “You see, there are different truths for everybody, I always felt that you should find your own rules to go by. If you’re given a talent, I believe you should also use it. Women have always loved Damon and he loves them.” The look of her grey eyes is full of sympathy now. “ And he seems to love you very much, sweetheart.”

“I know”, Elena’s voice sounds awfully pressed as she feels herself balancing on the verge of tears for the second time that day. Out of nowhere Eva’s hands are enveloping hers, causing her to drop the knife and shut her eyes tightly in order to hold back burning tears.

“It’s okay, Elena, you can trust me”, the older woman assures her in a gentle voice.

Her words and something in the press of Eva’s hands urges her to lose control and before she can stop herself she’s shaking, sobbing as she lets everything that has been weighing her down for months rush over her in a painful flood that threatens to suffocate her. Thankfully though, Eva is with her right in the middle of it, holding her, stroking her back and anchoring her with the gentle feel of cashmere against her cheek and her soothing smell of lavender. She provides her with tissues out of nowhere while Elena goes on crying as if her world just stopped. Gradually her sobs are subsiding and again Eva is right there.

“Why don’t you tell me about it, hm?” More is not needed, here, finally, is someone whom she could talk to, a stranger basically, which only makes it easier to confess. So Elena takes a deep breath and lets everything pour out of her, all her secret thoughts, desires and worries, things she rarely admits to herself. Eva simply absorbs them all, not judging and commenting, just allowing her to unburden all of it to the ears of a person who doesn’t play a part in the great cruel tragedy that her life seems to have turned into. There are things like “I still do love Stefan” and “how can anybody look at me like that”, “I should hate him” which is followed by “I’m so scared” and at some point “I’m so alone with this”. The confession “I can’t be like Katherine”  is succeeded by the helpless outcry “I can never hurt Stefan like that, that’s just not me” and after another flood of guilty ramblings she finally ends with “I just don’t understand how he can love me like this”. At this point Elena is merely sniffling and adverting her eyes from Eva’s much too sympathetic gaze.

“I don’t give advice,” the woman finally says. “But I can promise you that none of it is your fault, even if you feel that way. And though you’re doing now what you think is right, alone having these feelings is a kind of betrayal to Stefan, one that you can’t even help committing, right? Inaction is an action too, Elena and right now, I think, it’s causing a lot of damage, most of all to yourself. From what you’ve told me I can’t see one way out that wouldn’t hurt anyone. Damon tells me you’re very selfless but at some point, sweetheart, even you will have to think of yourself. I won’t give you all that nonsense about “follow your heart” etcetera, just bear in mind that people change, you’ll change. Don’t hold onto something just because it’s safe and familiar and fits better in the picture of what you want your life to be like.” Eva takes a deep breath and straightens her back. “That’s enough so far, now give me your hands.”

Unsure of where this is going, Elena slowly holds her hands out and lets Eva grab them in a firm hold. A few moments later she feels a warming sensation take over first her fingers, then her hands and finally crawling up her arms. Out of instinct she flinches a little but Eva merely tightens her hold.

“What is this?” she asks in a whisper, because the situation somehow seems to forbid loud voices. “Are you a witch?”

“No, no”, Eva replies chuckling while her eyes remain closed. “I simply seem to have a special ability for healing. It works best for stomach pains and broken bones but I’ve found that it’s sometimes effective with a troubled heart or mind too. No need to worry, it won’t harm you in any way, I do it for all the people in the neighborhood.”

Thus assured, Elena decides to accept this new weirdness that the world has to offer, closes her eyes too and simply concentrates on the wonderful , quiet warmth that is filling her body. The soothing sensation that envelopes her makes her feel calmer and more stable than she has in months. After a while she can feel herself getting drowsy, slumping against the back of the sofa and this time Eva lets go as her hands slip out of the woman’s hold. She can feel hushed commotion around her and a little while later, Eva is again at her side, telling her that there’s a full bathtub waiting for her if she’d like to bathe. Nothing could sound more wonderful right now and the bathroom that Eva shows her is so warm and friendly that Elena instantly slips into the hot, rose smelling water with a deeply contented sigh. It should be impossible after the “treatment” she just got but her body seems to become even more relaxed.  After a soaking so thorough that her fingers and toes are prune-like, she puts on the fluffy robe that Eva has laid out for her and pads into her room with bare feet. It’s almost a little too early to go to bed but it looks so inviting with its soft blankets that Elena crawls into it anyway. To her pleasant surprise her feet find the cozy warmth of a hot-water bottle under the covers, having already heated the bed up to her body temperature. Seconds later there’s a knock on the door and after her silent invitation, Eva enters the room holding a little tray. When she puts a mug of hot chocolate and a plate of white bread with honey on the nightstand, Elena is certain that she hasn’t been this mothered since the death of her parents. If she didn’t feel so languorous and comfy, she’d probably burst into tears again. While she eats, Eva tells her little anecdotes about the Damon she knew, how he never stayed more than three days and how she tried to explain his existence to her neighbors.

“Did you love him?” Elena finally gathers her courage to ask her while she sips at the rest of her hot chocolate.

“I suppose so, yes”, Eva’s answer comes slowly. “Though he hardly showed me enough of him to truly be in love. You have to know somebody’s worst side to be able to really love him. The Damon I knew preferred to always keep things cursory and loose, not only with me.”

As the implication of that statement sinks in Elena feels something akin to indignation bubble up. “Weren’t you jealous?”

“Not really, no”, this time her answer comes faster. “He was never mine to be jealous of.”

Then she abruptly stands up, seemingly getting an idea. “Wait a minute, I have something for you.”

When she returns a moment later, she’s carrying a battered looking envelope from which she extracts two black and white pictures. The first shows Damon and a younger looking Eva in what seems to be a bed. He is reclined against the headboard, his hair combed back in an impressive wave, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. His right arm is slung loosely over the pretty woman at his side who is leaning slightly forward, apparently holding the camera. She is smiling happily, the loose sheet exposing the tip of her naked breast. Damon is sporting his trademark smirk while his eyes show the strangely reflecting expression that Elena remembers from their early encounters. The second one is a single shot of Damon, possibly taken on the same morning or at least in the same bed since she recognizes the headboard in the background. His hair is now disheveled though, surrounding his face in unruly strands and the cigarette is missing from his mouth. This time he’s staring directly in the camera, which means at her, with an intense, searching gaze that bears no trace of the caginess that was evident in the other shot. His shoulders and partly visible chest are naked which adds to the feeling that this is a very private and intimate picture somehow. One that makes him look almost vulnerable.

“You can keep it if you want to…”, Eva’s voice suddenly interrupts her musings and makes her wonder how long exactly she has already been staring at the picture.

“Thank you”, Elena says deeply grateful because she really does want to hold onto that photograph. Even now it’s hard for her to look away from it for picture-Damon seems to keep on looking at her, trying to tell her something or ask something that’s very important.

A moment later, Eva tells her goodnight and leaves the room while she is still gazing at the picture until she finally turns the light off and snuggles deeper under the covers.

When she awakes in the morning she feels more rested and revived than she can remember being in months and she stretches languidly under the blankets before she gets up and packs her things. After she comes down they have an extensive breakfast during which Eva asks them more about their trip and Damon explains that he’s planning to head for New Orleans next.

“It’s more of a hunch really, but I believe Klaus is too much of a psychopath to miss out on a town that is filled with vampire legends. He’s bound to at least show up there.”

Eva wishes them luck and then stands up to accompany her guests to the door. As Damon packs their bags in the trunk, Eva presses a note in Elena’s hand.

“If you ever need somebody to talk to, you can call me anytime. But don’t worry, sweetheart, you’ll be okay.”

Elena pockets the note and hugs the old woman warmly goodbye, hoping to convey how much the last evening meant to her. By the look on Eva’s face she seems to understand. She waits in the car while Damon is saying goodbye to his ex-lover and minutes later they zoom through the sunny streets of early morning Atlanta.

“You look good today,” Damon comments, sounding strangely self-satisfied, after watching her out of the corner of his eyes for a while.

“I feel good too”, she answers pensively. “Eva was absolutely great to me, she’s a really nice woman..”

“That she is…” and now something in his content smile tips her off.

“Wait a minute, did you plan any of this?” She turns to him with a demanding stare.

“What? Don’t be silly now, Elena, how would I plan this, whatever exactly happened ?! Just because you’ve been crying for your mom lately or because you don’t sleep well and it’s apparently impossible for you to gain even so much as a pound?! Don’t get all loony on me now…”

Elena is barely able to suppress her laughter, she hasn’t ever heard him lying this bad.

“Thank you anyway, for not planning”, she rests her hand on his forearm in gratitude and even though he doesn’t say anything out loud, she can clearly hear his answering “You’re welcome” in both their minds.

Around noon they stop at a diner to eat something, still enjoying the relaxed atmosphere between them. When the girl at the cash point asks them for some change, Damon has to decline so Elena rummages through her purse while Damon goes unnaturally still beside her. It doesn’t faze her though until he suddenly grabs her wrist after they left the girl at her cash point.

“Elena, give me your purse for a second,” his voice sounds a little breathless. She has a sinking feeling in her stomach but can’t think of an even remotely convincing excuse so she meekly hands it over. He opens it hurriedly and there, tucked away securely between wads of old receipts, is Eva’s picture. Only a bit of the edge is visible, but a bit is obviously enough because a second later Damon has it between his fingers, staring at it with an incredulous expression. Then, slowly, one of his breathtakingly real smiles, the ones that she just discovered recently, spreads over his face and he turns the picture slowly around to her.

“Oh my, Elena. I have warned you,” he leans closer while pressing the photograph back into her hand with a surprisingly sensual touch. “Game on!”