FIC: Ashes And Wine (Damon/Elena; 1/?)
OMFG, I just noticed that this is already the 50th story that I've written (or published because there are some things I wrote and then lost when my computer broke down. They sadly never got published and I'll never get them back. Breathless being the one I feel most sorry about).
I can't believe it! 50 stories!!!! Yay me, I truly am a writer!
Ashes And Wine
by velja
Rating: PG for now
Genre: Drama
Spoilers: Up to 2x03 'Bad Moon Rising' (you should have seen that one)
Summary: Elena and Damon are left to deal with where they're standing right now. Is there a chance, a fragment of light at the end of the tunnel, a reason to fight, is there a chance you may change your mind or are we ashes and wine?
The heartbreaking Damon/Elena scene on the porch in 2x03 ‘Bad Moon Rising’ combined with the song ‘Ashes And Wine’ (by A Fine Frenzy) just begged to be used as inspiration for a fic, didn’t it?
Well, here’s my take on that one (and I’m sure there are or will be others). I have no idea where to take this story because right now I just don’t see any fragment of light at the end of the tunnel. So I haven’t decided yet if this is gonna stay a stand-alone or if I’m gonna find a way to continue it. Hope-fully the episodes to come will show me a way.
I don’t own anything, only the tears that leave my eyes whenever I hear this song now.
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‘You and Katherine have a lot more in common than just your looks!’
Elena lay in bed, tossing and turning and unable to find sleep. Damon’s words had been haunting her for hours on end.
Ever since he’d left her standing on the porch earlier tonight she hadn’t been able to ban them from her mind. “You and Katherine have a lot more in common than just your looks.”
Those were the exact words Elena had never wanted to hear.
But, she thought and turned onto her back, were they true?
Was she really more than merely a carbon copy of how Katherine looked like?
Was she like her?
You used me today.
You had information on Katherine that I needed.
It was true, Elena knew. She felt the knot settle more deeply in her stomach along with the truth. Damon had been right. She’d used him today, had strung him along, had played his own game and turned it against him to get what she wanted.
Today she’d really been Katherine.
And even though she’d never wanted to be like her, Elena couldn’t bring herself to regret her actions yet. She tightened her hold on the old and tattered teddy bear in her arms and soaked up its unique scent. This at last was something familiar, something she loved and knew how to handle.
Unlike the emotions currently churning through her guts when thinking about how she’d behaved today.
She’d wanted to hurt Damon. She’d wanted to make him feel the pain he had inflicted on her when he’d snapped Jeremy’s neck. She’d wanted to make him feel hurt and betrayed and used.
She’d wanted to make him feel.
Why?
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I’ll drown in my tear storming sea
That would show you, that would make you hurt like me
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She had wanted to make Damon feel a fragment of the pain, the emotions, she had been forced to deal with for the last few days. These foreign feelings that she didn’t know how to handle other than by throwing them back at him.
She’d wanted to make him feel what she was going through.
Because deep down inside Elena knew… she still cared.
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Is there a chance
A fragment of light
At the end of the tunnel
A reason to fight
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Damon had found the boarding house empty, with no Stefan to be seen or heard, when he’d returned. He’d walked home, at human pace for once, with thoughts and feelings all tumbling around in his head.
Entering the parlor he’d gone straight for the liquor cabinet and, not bothering with a glass, had taken the bottle of bourbon back to the couch with him.
And there he sat, taking a swing from the bottle every now and then, and he stared straight on into the dark and cold fireplace, unblinking, until his eyes burned and hurt as much as the rest of him.
It would suck if that was gone forever.
Damon was well aware that he’d taken the coward’s way out by phrasing the words like this. Using the impersonal passive form instead of letting Elena know how he’d feel, how it would affect him personally, if it was true and any base for their friendship was gone.
But he hadn’t been ready to admit yet… he hadn’t been able to put himself out there completely and show her, make her understand that it would hurt… no, that he would hurt, that he would feel broken beyond repair if he’d truly lost her.
But in the end he’d of course had no other choice than to be honest and open with her. There on the porch, when Elena had asked he’d tell her the truth…
For a split second Damon had contemplated lying to her but then, no. She’d deserved the truth. After all, before today he’d never lied to her and he had found it impossible to continue now. She’d deserved to know the truth.
And the truth was… Damon’s evasive tactics of telling half-truths and beating around the bush hadn’t taken him anywhere. Elena was as closed off and cold as before and therefore… Damon had had no other choice. He’d laid all his cards on the table. He’d stripped bare and for the first time in years, he’d struggled to find the right words. He’d been flustered and had been fumbling around, not knowing how to say it right.
Katherine really pissed me off and… and I, I snapped and… I… I got lucky with the ring. I don’t know what I would have done if he wasn’t wearing it.
The more he’d said the easier it had become to let her in, to let her see how much his actions had affected him. And in the end it hadn’t cost him that much to finally say the words. Those three little words, the ones he’d thought he’d long since forgotten how to say and truly mean them…
Tonight they had come easily and from the heart.
Elena, I’m sorry.
He’d said it, he’d meant it, and he hadn’t dropped dead finally admitting it to her. The ground beneath his feet hadn’t opened up and swallowed him whole. It had felt good to say those words.
It had felt right.
And it hadn’t changed anything.
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Don’t know what to do anymore
I’ve lost the only love worth fighting for
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It hadn’t changed anything. Long before this day had ended with them on her porch Elena had already decided for herself that nothing he’d say or do would change anything. Nothing would be good enough for her.
And the answer to your question about our friendship? Is yes.
You have lost me forever.
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Is there a chance
A fragment of light
At the end of the tunnel
A reason to fight
Is there a chance
You may change your mind
Or are we ashes and wine?
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The bottle Damon raised to his lips once more glistened brightly when the lights in the parlor were suddenly turned on.
Damon blinked and listened to Stefan’s weary footsteps on the wooden floor.
“Damon, you’re back,” the younger vampire made his way around the couch. “You were right about the Lockwood’s. Tonight I saw…”
Stefan broke off suddenly when he’d rounded the couch and came face to face with his brother.
“What happened?” Worry laced his voice and something dropped in his stomach. All thoughts of what had happened tonight, of werewolves and Caroline biting Matt, everything went flying out of Stefan’s head the second he saw the look on Damon’s face.
“Nothing,” Damon didn’t meet his gaze but kept on staring into the empty fireplace. “Not a thing hap-pened, brother.”
“Damon,” Stefan sat down next to him and tried to catch his brother’s eyes. “Something must have happened or you wouldn’t be…”
He reached out a hand and placed it tentatively onto Damon’s arm. The unfamiliar gesture had Damon’s head turn to the side at last. He blinked down to the hand on his arm and back up into Stefan’s face. Worry and genuine concern were etched all over it and Damon raised an eyebrow.
“I wouldn’t be what, Stef? Drinking? Come on, you know…”
“Or you wouldn’t be crying, Damon.” Stefan’s words, though spoken softly, cut off whatever snide re-mark Damon was about to make.
“What?”
“You’re crying, Damon. What happened?”
Damon lifted his free hand up to his face. It came back wet. Unable to comprehend or say anything Damon stared at his moist fingertips.
And then his gaze went back to stare at the cold ashes in the fireplace and he couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps, instead of bourbon, he should have chosen wine tonight.
It would have been much more fitting the situation, wouldn’t it?
After all, there was nothing left but ashes and wine.
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Is there a chance
A fragment of light
At the end of the tunnel
A reason to fight
Is there a chance
You may change your mind
Or are we ashes and wine?
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The End (for now)