Built from All I Have Torn Apart - TVD - Damon/Elena
Title: Built from All I Have Torn Apart
Author: Violet (amoenavi )
Fandom: Vampire Diaries
Pairings: Damon/Elena (mention of Stefan/Elena)
Words: 1,689
Summary: She pulls away first and tries not to think about how this is the cruelest thing she's ever done. How alike this makes her and Katherine. She reaches out once more to touch the shine of happiness on his face and tries not to cry. Set in the future episode 210: The Sacrifice. Elena knows she's not worth this.
Elena Gilbert is done being protected.
All this time, all the distance she put between her and Stefan, the hatred she harbored for the Salvatore Brothers bringing destruction into the town, a superiority she felt because Katherine had only been the cause of destruction and Elena was trying to build something, the detached pain and regret for Vicki’s death, Amy’s death - it was all a lie.
It was her all along. They would have come eventually. For her.
Her town would have been burnt to the ground because the old Elena would have run. She would have fought. The old Elena had no grasp on the sense of inevitability that accompanies vampires. Vampires with an eternity to wait and no morals to distract.
Stefan and Damon don't understand. They think that her life is somehow worth a thousand others. For a while, she tries to pretend that it is.
The truth: Elena Gilbert is tired of running. Tired of leaving the fallen to rot beneath the ground. Tired of everyone assuming that she wants to keep fighting for her life like it's worth it. The truth is simple: in order to stop the death toll, Elena must die. There is no other way.
And it's with this attitude that high school junior, world-worn and exhausted, Elena Gilbert walks back into the tomb containing her ancestor.
--
Somehow in her plan of 'get in, get killed', she had managed to underestimate Damon's devotion. As, it seems, she always does.
--
Damon shoves her up against the wall, knee pressing between her legs.
She pounds on his chest, struggles against his weight. “Damon, let go of me! I have to go!”
“There is no way in hell I’m letting you do this,” he hisses, punctuating his sentence by pressing down harder on her wrists.
“It’s my choice!” She lifts her right leg up, kicks his at hip. He is immobile, solid as a rock - she propels herself back further against the wall, knocking her head on the ancient stone. He reacts to her failed attempt quickly, caging her in more tightly than before, knee like a battering ram against her thighs.
She opens them unwillingly, sure there will be a bruise later.
“That worked well. Any more karate kid maneuvers, Elena? Maybe you’ve got a nunchuck you want to whip out?” he taunts, mouth twisted into a beatific smirk.
Her blood boils at the sight of how unaffected he is by her struggle, the ease with which he is taking her blows.
“Damon - I have to do this. Klaus is going to kill them. He’s going to kill everyone.”
He drops his shoulders in a casual half-shrug. “I’m not so worried about them.” Crack.
“Shut up!” she snarls, reaching a breaking point, “Shut up. Don’t pretend not to care. I know you care - I’ve seen it.” She begins to twist her hips, trying desperately to lash out at him somehow. “That’s Bonnie, that’s Caroline, Alaric, Jeremy, your brother. Don’t you dare pretend you don’t care. You care about them and you’re lying to me and you’re lying to yourself if you think you don’t.”
"Frankly, my dear... you know the rest."
"Liar!" she strains against his hands, hips bucking up against his. "You're a liar! You care about them! Let me save them!"
"Let me save you," he counters. He shifts to the side slightly so that their hips are no longer lining up. It's the slightest motion but the meaning behind it gives Elena an out.
She grinds her hips upward again, subtly seeking his as she speaks, "This isn't a 'save the cheerleader, save the world' situation, Damon. If you save me, we all die."
He frowns, whether it's at the words or the new contact, she's not sure. "Did you just quote Heroes in an argument with me?" He pushes back down against her with his lower body, seemingly automatically. Elena forces herself to stay focused, to stay in control. She lifts her torso off of the cave wall just slightly, pushing her chest against his.
"Did you just admit that you watched Heroes in an argument with me?" Hip twist, chest puff.
Reactionary grind down. "It seemed like it could have had promise. Also, hot cheerleader is always a good thing," he replies, doing that eye thing. She swallows thickly. He watches the motion of her throat.
She forgoes subtlety altogether this time, lifting her leg up from the ground, throwing it over his hip and securing him to her. She can feel the heat of him through their jeans. "Now what?"
His eyes flash with something dark. "Now," he starts before leaning his head down and kissing her neck. She lets her head drop back against the rock, eyes still open wide and clear. He nips playfully at the skin around her jugular. Her eyes close. Her body feels feverish. She can feel him smirk against her skin as he kisses a trail up and down the side of her neck. "Now," he repeats, "you stop trying to use sex to make me let go of you."
Her eyes snap open. "DAMON."
Mouth still hot on her neck, he laughs sardonically. "I've been playing the sex card a lot longer than you, princess. I know all the tricks."
She thrashes again, feeling the embarrassment and rejection make her skin sting. He detaches himself from her neck and holds above her, using his hips to restrain her this time, preparing for a long fight.
And then -
she stops struggling. Her breaths still come heavily, puffing out over his face in a warm cloud.
"Are you done?" he asks warily, grip on her wrists not loosening in the slightest. His eyes, previously alight with some amusement and some confusion, dim with suspicion. He knows her. He knows that she's not going to give up that easily.
She twists in the bonds his hands make, props herself up just enough to brush her lips against his before pulling back. She stays unmoving even as he stiffens, unconsciously applying more pressure to her wrists. "That should have been our first kiss," she says finally, tears welling up in her eyes at what she is about to do. She will save her family. She will save her friends. She will save Stefan and Rose, even Katherine. She will save him, even if she has to break him in the process.
She feels his breathing stop as he looks beyond her. "Don't, Elena," he says. She responds by leaning up again, slowly, to place the lightest kiss on the edge of his jaw. "Jeremy's not here to stop me this time," he warns darkly. Visions of a desperate Damon, her bedroom, the terrifying crack of her brother's neck and the resounding thud as his body hit the floor enter her mind. The smell of alcohol and tears. Blood. Pain. And then he left and she had nothing. She swallows back her anger and fear, recognizes his defense mechanism kicking into place.
"I want to," she replies softly, hoping her face betrays none of the sickness and self-hatred she feels. Stefan is off somewhere with Bonnie, unaware of her betrayal. She looks up into his blue eyes and she suddenly feels nauseous as they soften slightly at her tears.
He releases one wrist to stroke the side of her face gently and she has to physically restrain herself from jolting back at the familiar touch. Her mind is already swimming in the sharp painful memory of the night the old Elena died but now there's something else. A murky, clouded sensation of loss on the edge of her consciousness, just out of reach. She looks up at him in wonder, no longer forcing herself to inject some love and affection into her gaze.
"Underneath everything... you're still a good man," she says slowly, allowing herself to believe the words. "You love your brother," she raises a hand to cup his jaw, thumb slowly tracing the tightening muscles, "you care about Alaric and Caroline and Jeremy and Rose," she leans up again to get closer to his eyelevel, "you'd even save Bonnie if you could." She smiles minutely. "That's not all about me."
He tries to turn his face away but lets her turn him back. She wants to tell him not to wear his heart on his sleeve like a target - or rather, his eyes - but thinks that that is part of what makes him so beautiful. This: the honesty and confusion and hurt in his eyes, all tinted with that familiar look that she knows too well. She hates herself. She hates herself. This isn't real this isn't real this isn't real, she chants in her head, hopes he can hear her.
Hopes she can believe it when it's all said and done.
"You've changed me," he finally admits. "Saved me. Made me a new person."
She shakes her head slowly. "No," pushes her other wrist up against his hand and waiting for him to release it. He does without fuss. She reaches up and traces the nonexistent lines around his eyes. "There had to be something worth saving in the first place."
"I need you safe," he says, resting his forehead against hers. She's sure he can smell the salt of her tears as they well up in her eyes.
"I need them safe." Goes to add, "I need you safe."
"Leave with me, I'll protect you," he says, earnest. She swallows again and prepares herself for the final blows.
"I love you," she replies and it's not quite a lie.
He looks up, a genuine smile on his face and all she wants in that moment is to take a picture of it so that she can keep it in her pocket forever. So that she always remembers what it was like to see such pure, unadulterated happiness. "I love you too," tilts his head to kiss her softly, mouth moving gently against hers. Stefan's face flashes before her eyes but she pushes it away, focuses on the feel of his softness, basks in the radiance of his love. She figures that since she's about to destroy him for a while, she should at least give him this moment of purity.
She pulls away first and tries not to think about how this is the cruelest thing she's ever done. How alike this makes her and Katherine. Giving him a sliver of hope before crushing him. She reaches out once more to touch the shine of happiness on his face and tries not to cry.
"This doesn't change anything," she states flatly. His face twists in confusion, brow knitting together and eyes slowly opening. "It's still Stefan," she clarifies. "It's forever Stefan."
She can practically hear the sound of his heart shattering again. It's like a black hole in her chest, a vacuum in her ribcage sucking out all of her energy but it works.
When she pushes him back from her, he stumbles.
She walks away to save him and pretends that she's different from the woman whose face she wears because she does love him too.
He stays behind, a broken toy, unable to be fixed.
She wipes the tears and reams of an alternate reality away.
This is her sacrifice. She just hopes that someday, he'll be able to appreciate it.
Author: Violet (amoenavi )
Fandom: Vampire Diaries
Pairings: Damon/Elena (mention of Stefan/Elena)
Words: 1,689
Summary: She pulls away first and tries not to think about how this is the cruelest thing she's ever done. How alike this makes her and Katherine. She reaches out once more to touch the shine of happiness on his face and tries not to cry. Set in the future episode 210: The Sacrifice. Elena knows she's not worth this.
Elena Gilbert is done being protected.
All this time, all the distance she put between her and Stefan, the hatred she harbored for the Salvatore Brothers bringing destruction into the town, a superiority she felt because Katherine had only been the cause of destruction and Elena was trying to build something, the detached pain and regret for Vicki’s death, Amy’s death - it was all a lie.
It was her all along. They would have come eventually. For her.
Her town would have been burnt to the ground because the old Elena would have run. She would have fought. The old Elena had no grasp on the sense of inevitability that accompanies vampires. Vampires with an eternity to wait and no morals to distract.
Stefan and Damon don't understand. They think that her life is somehow worth a thousand others. For a while, she tries to pretend that it is.
The truth: Elena Gilbert is tired of running. Tired of leaving the fallen to rot beneath the ground. Tired of everyone assuming that she wants to keep fighting for her life like it's worth it. The truth is simple: in order to stop the death toll, Elena must die. There is no other way.
And it's with this attitude that high school junior, world-worn and exhausted, Elena Gilbert walks back into the tomb containing her ancestor.
--
Somehow in her plan of 'get in, get killed', she had managed to underestimate Damon's devotion. As, it seems, she always does.
--
Damon shoves her up against the wall, knee pressing between her legs.
She pounds on his chest, struggles against his weight. “Damon, let go of me! I have to go!”
“There is no way in hell I’m letting you do this,” he hisses, punctuating his sentence by pressing down harder on her wrists.
“It’s my choice!” She lifts her right leg up, kicks his at hip. He is immobile, solid as a rock - she propels herself back further against the wall, knocking her head on the ancient stone. He reacts to her failed attempt quickly, caging her in more tightly than before, knee like a battering ram against her thighs.
She opens them unwillingly, sure there will be a bruise later.
“That worked well. Any more karate kid maneuvers, Elena? Maybe you’ve got a nunchuck you want to whip out?” he taunts, mouth twisted into a beatific smirk.
Her blood boils at the sight of how unaffected he is by her struggle, the ease with which he is taking her blows.
“Damon - I have to do this. Klaus is going to kill them. He’s going to kill everyone.”
He drops his shoulders in a casual half-shrug. “I’m not so worried about them.” Crack.
“Shut up!” she snarls, reaching a breaking point, “Shut up. Don’t pretend not to care. I know you care - I’ve seen it.” She begins to twist her hips, trying desperately to lash out at him somehow. “That’s Bonnie, that’s Caroline, Alaric, Jeremy, your brother. Don’t you dare pretend you don’t care. You care about them and you’re lying to me and you’re lying to yourself if you think you don’t.”
"Frankly, my dear... you know the rest."
"Liar!" she strains against his hands, hips bucking up against his. "You're a liar! You care about them! Let me save them!"
"Let me save you," he counters. He shifts to the side slightly so that their hips are no longer lining up. It's the slightest motion but the meaning behind it gives Elena an out.
She grinds her hips upward again, subtly seeking his as she speaks, "This isn't a 'save the cheerleader, save the world' situation, Damon. If you save me, we all die."
He frowns, whether it's at the words or the new contact, she's not sure. "Did you just quote Heroes in an argument with me?" He pushes back down against her with his lower body, seemingly automatically. Elena forces herself to stay focused, to stay in control. She lifts her torso off of the cave wall just slightly, pushing her chest against his.
"Did you just admit that you watched Heroes in an argument with me?" Hip twist, chest puff.
Reactionary grind down. "It seemed like it could have had promise. Also, hot cheerleader is always a good thing," he replies, doing that eye thing. She swallows thickly. He watches the motion of her throat.
She forgoes subtlety altogether this time, lifting her leg up from the ground, throwing it over his hip and securing him to her. She can feel the heat of him through their jeans. "Now what?"
His eyes flash with something dark. "Now," he starts before leaning his head down and kissing her neck. She lets her head drop back against the rock, eyes still open wide and clear. He nips playfully at the skin around her jugular. Her eyes close. Her body feels feverish. She can feel him smirk against her skin as he kisses a trail up and down the side of her neck. "Now," he repeats, "you stop trying to use sex to make me let go of you."
Her eyes snap open. "DAMON."
Mouth still hot on her neck, he laughs sardonically. "I've been playing the sex card a lot longer than you, princess. I know all the tricks."
She thrashes again, feeling the embarrassment and rejection make her skin sting. He detaches himself from her neck and holds above her, using his hips to restrain her this time, preparing for a long fight.
And then -
she stops struggling. Her breaths still come heavily, puffing out over his face in a warm cloud.
"Are you done?" he asks warily, grip on her wrists not loosening in the slightest. His eyes, previously alight with some amusement and some confusion, dim with suspicion. He knows her. He knows that she's not going to give up that easily.
She twists in the bonds his hands make, props herself up just enough to brush her lips against his before pulling back. She stays unmoving even as he stiffens, unconsciously applying more pressure to her wrists. "That should have been our first kiss," she says finally, tears welling up in her eyes at what she is about to do. She will save her family. She will save her friends. She will save Stefan and Rose, even Katherine. She will save him, even if she has to break him in the process.
She feels his breathing stop as he looks beyond her. "Don't, Elena," he says. She responds by leaning up again, slowly, to place the lightest kiss on the edge of his jaw. "Jeremy's not here to stop me this time," he warns darkly. Visions of a desperate Damon, her bedroom, the terrifying crack of her brother's neck and the resounding thud as his body hit the floor enter her mind. The smell of alcohol and tears. Blood. Pain. And then he left and she had nothing. She swallows back her anger and fear, recognizes his defense mechanism kicking into place.
"I want to," she replies softly, hoping her face betrays none of the sickness and self-hatred she feels. Stefan is off somewhere with Bonnie, unaware of her betrayal. She looks up into his blue eyes and she suddenly feels nauseous as they soften slightly at her tears.
He releases one wrist to stroke the side of her face gently and she has to physically restrain herself from jolting back at the familiar touch. Her mind is already swimming in the sharp painful memory of the night the old Elena died but now there's something else. A murky, clouded sensation of loss on the edge of her consciousness, just out of reach. She looks up at him in wonder, no longer forcing herself to inject some love and affection into her gaze.
"Underneath everything... you're still a good man," she says slowly, allowing herself to believe the words. "You love your brother," she raises a hand to cup his jaw, thumb slowly tracing the tightening muscles, "you care about Alaric and Caroline and Jeremy and Rose," she leans up again to get closer to his eyelevel, "you'd even save Bonnie if you could." She smiles minutely. "That's not all about me."
He tries to turn his face away but lets her turn him back. She wants to tell him not to wear his heart on his sleeve like a target - or rather, his eyes - but thinks that that is part of what makes him so beautiful. This: the honesty and confusion and hurt in his eyes, all tinted with that familiar look that she knows too well. She hates herself. She hates herself. This isn't real this isn't real this isn't real, she chants in her head, hopes he can hear her.
Hopes she can believe it when it's all said and done.
"You've changed me," he finally admits. "Saved me. Made me a new person."
She shakes her head slowly. "No," pushes her other wrist up against his hand and waiting for him to release it. He does without fuss. She reaches up and traces the nonexistent lines around his eyes. "There had to be something worth saving in the first place."
"I need you safe," he says, resting his forehead against hers. She's sure he can smell the salt of her tears as they well up in her eyes.
"I need them safe." Goes to add, "I need you safe."
"Leave with me, I'll protect you," he says, earnest. She swallows again and prepares herself for the final blows.
"I love you," she replies and it's not quite a lie.
He looks up, a genuine smile on his face and all she wants in that moment is to take a picture of it so that she can keep it in her pocket forever. So that she always remembers what it was like to see such pure, unadulterated happiness. "I love you too," tilts his head to kiss her softly, mouth moving gently against hers. Stefan's face flashes before her eyes but she pushes it away, focuses on the feel of his softness, basks in the radiance of his love. She figures that since she's about to destroy him for a while, she should at least give him this moment of purity.
She pulls away first and tries not to think about how this is the cruelest thing she's ever done. How alike this makes her and Katherine. Giving him a sliver of hope before crushing him. She reaches out once more to touch the shine of happiness on his face and tries not to cry.
"This doesn't change anything," she states flatly. His face twists in confusion, brow knitting together and eyes slowly opening. "It's still Stefan," she clarifies. "It's forever Stefan."
She can practically hear the sound of his heart shattering again. It's like a black hole in her chest, a vacuum in her ribcage sucking out all of her energy but it works.
When she pushes him back from her, he stumbles.
She walks away to save him and pretends that she's different from the woman whose face she wears because she does love him too.
He stays behind, a broken toy, unable to be fixed.
She wipes the tears and reams of an alternate reality away.
This is her sacrifice. She just hopes that someday, he'll be able to appreciate it.