Connections - 23
Author’s Note: I am so. so. so. sorry! Things have been crazy. Crazy-crazy. Out-of-control crazy. I haven’t even checked my e-mail in over a week. But I am so sorry you guys! I know I left you on a cliff-hanger and right at the end of the story, and I haven’t replied to anyone… I’m so sorry!!! So here you go… The last two chapters! Thank you to everyone who stuck with this story for so long!
“Elena!”
Elena looked up sharply, pausing with her paintbrush against the long white butcher paper where she was filling in the letter ‘W’. Caroline was frowning at her, an unhappy, frustrated look on her face.
“What?” Elena asked, startled.
Caroline placed her hands on her hips, staring hard at her. “I’ve been calling you for almost a minute.” She looked down at the paper. “And you’ve filled in half of the W? How long have you been at this?”
She swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “Sorry, Car. I was just off in my own world.” She cringed inwardly at the words, a wave of pain washing over her. “What’s up?”
Caroline studied her. “You’ve been acting really weird lately,” she told her, frowning. “Is everything okay?”
She nodded, trying to smile. “Everything’s fine. I just wasn’t paying attention.” She peered over in the direction Caroline had been standing. “Do you need help with something?”
Caroline let out a small, frustrated sound. “I’ll take over painting this. Can you go help Shane with pouring juice?”
Elena nodded, handing over the paintbrush, and made her way to the table littered with refreshments.
She knew she had been off lately… Unable to focus or concentrate, unable to think about anything but her world and how different it really was under the surface. She kept waiting for some horrible, life-threatening drama to unfold, but it never did. It was always the same, every day. Peaceful. Quiet. Calm.
No vampires. No werewolves. No witches.
The world she belonged in.
She fell back into her thoughts as she began pouring the cups of punch, wondering what her friends in her world were doing. Were they moving on with their lives? Was the curse truly lifted?
Were Damon and Stefan all right?
She paused at the thought of Stefan. When was it, she wondered, that she had stopped dwelling on him? When every thought stopped being consumed by him? It was hard to pinpoint, exactly… She thought it was sometime after her connection to him, but since she had arrived in this world, she had barely spared him a thought.
Oddly, it was Damon who she thought of when she closed her eyes at night. Damon who she kept expecting to see every time she turned a corner, flashing her an irresistibly charming smile. Damon who she expected to hear toss out a witty comment whenever someone said something boarding on idiotic. Elijah had said she would be torn between the two brothers, but she didn’t feel torn. She felt… sad.
If the curse truly had been lifted from all of them, and her emotions were truly her own once again, then what did her constant thoughts of Damon mean?
At night when she laid in bed, she found herself wondering why she had never opened up to him. Damon could be a monster, yes, but he cared about her. He had loved her. And even if he had done a lot of horrible things in the name of that love, she knew he never really meant to hurt her.
But she had been so blinded by her love for Stefan, of putting Stefan first… Even when she had seen it inside Damon, and even when she had started to acknowledge her feelings for him, she had never been able to cross that barrier. She had never been able to really love him.
Could it really have been the curse all along?
She let out a soft sigh, setting another cup down on the table. It didn’t really matter anymore… She would never see either of them again. She would never get the chance to talk to Damon or hear his voice ever again. In this world they were long-since dead, buried in the Mystic Falls cemetery.
She knew, because she had been to their graves herself.
She looked around at the students surrounding her, laughing and working on their projects for the next football game. She felt eerily out of place, disconnected from everything around her.
“Elena!” Caroline exclaimed, appearing in front of the table with Bonnie. Her eyes were wide with surprise, confusion and shock marring her pretty features.
Elena jumped, looking down at the wetness on her hand. She had filled the cup to overflowing, the punch trickling down onto the grass in front of her. She stared at her sticky hand, then up at Caroline and Bonnie, who wore matching expressions of concern and bewilderment.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized, setting the cup down and stepping away. “I-I need to go.”
And then she turned and fled.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
She hadn’t meant to go to the boarding house. She had been driving around, trying to calm her racing thoughts, and when she looked up, she had been staring up at the Salvatore home.
She climbed out reluctantly, slowly making her way into the familiar house. For days she had returned to the house, sitting in front of the mirror, but Damon had never appeared again, and no longer able to face the disappointment, she had been unable to bring herself to come back. But there she was again, drawn to the house, unable to fight it.
She drifted along the hallways, finding herself back in Damon’s room before she knew it. She sighed as she gazed around, her eyes lifting to the mirror that had allowed her a brief glimpse at him almost two weeks earlier.
There was a note on the mirror.
Elena gasped, choking in disbelief as she ran to the mirror. The note had been taped up on the other side of the mirror, facing her. He had written it backwards, or had taken a copy and made it backwards, from the look of his familiar penmanship.
She felt tears well up in her eyes as she stared at the familiar sight of his empty room. She looked down at the note on the mirror, reading the few, simple words.
We’re going to get you out of there.
She sobbed, a hand flying to her mouth as she read and re-read the words. She trembled uncontrollably, racing back down to her car to grab a notebook and pen from her backpack. Then she ran back into the house, straight up to Damon’s room. He had reappeared, lying on his bed with a book. Her heart leapt into her throat as she stared at him, pounding on the glass to try and catch his attention.
He glanced up seemingly off-handedly, his eyes widening at the sight of her. He was in front of her before she could blink, pointing at the note.
She shook her head, quickly scribbling a note on her notebook. Then, remembering she needed to write backwards, she quickly tore the page off, grateful for all the times Caroline had made her participate in town functions so she had to learn to write on windows from the inside, making it legible to people passing by.
Jenna’s alive. No curse. This is where I belong.
She quickly pressed it against the mirror, tears streaming down her cheeks as his eyes fell to the note. He read it, then looked back up at her, his blue eyes blazing. He quickly looked around, then disappeared out of sight for a moment. Her breath caught in her throat as she waited anxiously, afraid they would lose their connection, but he was back a second later. He leaned down over his dresser, then straightened, holding his own paper against the mirror.
You belong here.
It was so good to read the words, so painfully good, she felt another sob choke her. She shook her head, leaning down to write over her notebook again. And then she paused, thinking of the portrait she had hung in her room, of Damon and Stefan and their wives, looking happy, healthy, and human.
She ripped the page out of her notebook, prepared to start again. She glanced up at the mirror, startled to see new words on the paper Damon held up.
I love you, and I’m bringing you home.
She looked down at the note in her hand, then up at him, meeting his serious, unwavering eyes. In that moment, everything seemed to fall into place, and even if it was wrong, she was too tired of fighting. This world didn’t need her. It had gone on just fine without her.
She slowly lifted her paper to the mirror, facing it to him.
I want to come home.
She watched his expression soften with relief and understanding, and then he smiled, a gentle, caring smile. He nodded, leaning back down over his dresser. He held the paper up against the mirror.
Bonnie’s working on it.
She laughed out loud, relieved, nodding back at him. He flashed a grin, then suddenly turned, his head snapping in the direction of his door. She protested as the image suddenly faded away to reflect herself, staring back at her in the darkness.
Damon was gone, once again.
She slowly looked down at her paper and began to write. Then she faced the paper to his side of the mirror, sliding it into the wooden frame, and reluctantly left the house once again.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Damon tossed aside the grimoire in irritation, looking up at the mirror that had connected him to Elena for just a few short minutes. His heart skipped at the darkened, cobweb covered room staring back through the mirror. Elena had stuck a note in the glass, at the bottom of the mirror.
He leaned down to read it, his heart stilling for several seconds as he read the words, reading them over and over again, trying to burn them into his mind.
I miss you.
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