Fic: A Vampire's Policy [Vampire Diaries | R | Elena/Damon | 19/?]
Title A Vampire's Policy
Author: jinxed_wood
Characters/Pairings: Damon /Elena, ensemble.
Rating: R
Category: Drama
Spoilers: All of season one.
Warnings: There be smut, blood and vampires, in no particular order...
Show/Bookverse: Show
Summary:Stefan reignites his hunger for human blood, Elena tries to hold on as she deals with being turned, and Damon ensures he gets his own way...
Previous parts: PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX | PART SEVEN | PART EIGHT | PART NINE | PART TEN | PART ELEVEN | PART TWELVE | PART THIRTEEN | PART FOURTEEN | PART FIFTEEN | PART SIXTEEN | PART SEVENTEEN | PART EIGHTEEN...
____________________
PART NINETEEN
“And that'd be the the school teacher - you kids play nice, or I might have to report you.”
Elena watched as Damon went to answer the door and left her alone with Stefan in the kitchen. She was almost tempted to follow him, as she wasn't sure if she was up to another round of recriminations. Every time Stefan looked at her, she felt something in her heart squeeze, as if seeing his face was almost too painful. She'd experienced grief before, so she recognised the symptoms.
Stefan covered her hand on the table, and it was all she could do to prevent herself from jumping. Something of this must have translated to her face, because he gave her a pained look. “Elena, I know the changes you're going through at the moment are difficult, but you do realise you have some hard choices ahead of you?” he asked softly.
“Stefan, I'm not sure this is the best time to have this conversation,” she said.
“Trust me, there's never a good time,” Stefan said. “The first few weeks of being a Vampire, are probably the most intense you'll ever experience. Every emotion you have, every base instinct, will burn through you like a fire.”
“Yes, I've already had this conversation with Damon - when you weren't here,” she said dryly.
He winced. “I deserve that.”
“Big of you to admit it.”
“Why is it that you let Damon make mistakes, but you won't let me?” he asked flatly.
“Oh, I don't know, maybe because Damon doesn't try to hold me to a higher standard than he keeps,” she bit back.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“It means I'm not perfect, Stefan, I never have been, and this...this is hard, and no one should ever go through this alone - and that's what you did. You left me alone.” Her hand curled under his as she tried to tamp down on the emotion that rushed over her. It would be so easy just to switch it off...but Damon was right. If she started now, she might never stop. “We shouldn't do this now,” she said lowly. “I need to concentrate on protecting my family.”
“Elena-”
She glared at him “What?”
“I love you. You know that, don't you?”
And there they were, the magic words. Unshed tears blurred her vision, as she stared at the vulnerable expression on his face but, try as she might, she couldn't bring herself to return them. “You hurt me,” she said.
“It was one moment of weakness, Elena,” he said softly. “Don't throw away everything because I was weak.”
The pain in her chest swelled, almost leaving her breathless. “How can you live like this?” she asked hoarsely. “It hurts so much.”
His hand squeezed hers. “Most of us don't, Elena,” he said. “We turn it off.”
“Damon thinks I shouldn't do that.”
He hesitated. “Damon is right.”
“Huh,” Elena said. “Imagine that.”
He offered her a small smile. “I know I haven't been myself lately,” he said. “I haven't fed on human blood in so long...but I can go back onto animal blood, and you can do it with me. We can do it together.”
A sharp comment bubbled to her lips, but she swallowed it back. “I don't like feeling pressured,” she said.
“I don't mean to,” he said. “But the sooner you move onto an animal blood diet, the better. Human blood accentuates the trigger responses when you get hungry. Sooner or later, you're going to snap at the wrong moment and kill someone you care about - and you don't want that.”
Elena tensed as she remembered the stiffening corpse of Hillary Spenser, who had been her neighbour since she was eight, and was now buried in the woods behind the lodge. In that moment, she knew that there were some things she would never tell Stefan...another wedge between them.
Stefan was right, this wasn't who she wanted to be.
“Elena?” Stefan said softly.”Are you alright?”
“No,” she admitted. “No, I'm not.”
His hand tightened around hers again. “We can get through this. When this is over, we can leave town, just you and me. We'll make a new life for ourselves.”
A life without Damon. Elena's chest constricted at the thought; did she want that? She bit her lip. “I'm not sure if I can leave Damon behind,” she said, in a voice so small, that a human would have had difficulty hearing it. Stefan's ears weren't human, however.
“History cannot repeat itself,” he said firmly.
“I'm not Katherine, Stefan.”
“No, you're not, that's kind of my point. Do you really want to be remade in her image?”
Elena shuddered at the thought. “No.”
He smiled gently. “Then we're agreed?” he asked.
She nodded silently.
“Okay,” he slid back his chair. “I'll go and find Bonnie. Perhaps now would be a good time to clear the air with Damon?”
She nodded again, and then waited until he left through the patio doors, before she stood and made a beeline for the fridge. The hunger, always a fire in the pit of her stomach, was raging high now. Belatedly, she realised Damon had hit it on the head when he said she didn't like feeding in front of Stefan.
Elena grabbed a bag of blood, and stuck in the microwave as she thought over Stefan's words. She wondered what it would be like to live on animal blood - was it really as bad as Damon said? She sighed, as the microwave pinged, and took the bag out. Slitting it open and pouring it into a mug, Elena gulped it down before squaring her shoulders, and heading for the den.
What was it that Damon had said, again? Oh yeah, that it was better to rip it off, like a band-aid.
“We need to talk,” she said, as firmly as she could, when she entered the den.
Alaric muttered something under his breath, but Elena ignored him as she kept her eyes on Damon's reaction.
“Upstairs,” he said
She nodded, relieved. This was not a conversation she wanted in front of witnesses. “That might be best,” she said.
He gave her a half smile, the one that said he knew exactly what she was thinking, before he headed for the stairs. With an apologetic smile towards Alaric, Elena followed him. He headed straight for his bedroom, and Elena suddenly wondered if this was such a good idea. Maybe she should have insisted on a more neutral territory...
But it was too late, he'd already slipped through the door. “Come along, Elena, don't dawdle,” his voice teased, and Elena walked into the room after him.
He was lying on the bed, his fingers knitted together on his stomach, and Elena jerked her mind away from the last time she'd seen him on that bed. She paced the floor as she tried to find the words she needed.
“Maybe you could move a few feet to the left,” he said, after a moment's silence. “I'm quite fond of that rug, and you're wearing a hole in it.”
Elena stopped in her tracks. “It's not funny, Damon,” she said. “This thing....we have, it's getting out of control.” There, she'd said it. Sort of.
A slow smile spread across his face, as he drew quotation marks in the air. “This thing,” he said, “Seems to involve a lot of significant pauses.”
She glared at him, both frustrated and amused. “I'm trying to be serious here,” she said. “Try to return the favour.”
He rolled his eyes, and let his feet drop to the floor as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Right, here I am, all serious.”
And then he did the flirty eye thing.
“See? That's what I'm talking about!” she growled, gesturing at him. “We can't keep doing this.”
“Well, I suppose I should be grateful you used the word we towards the end, there,” he said. Elena felt her cheeks heat as her mind flashed to the incident in the shower. He took advantage of her distraction by catching her hand and pulling.
“Oh, for the days when you were human and had better impulse control,” he mocked, as she landed on his lap. A part of her already knew she was doomed when his scent enveloped her.
“This is such a bad idea,” she muttered.
He flipped them over onto the bed, and it was the way that it felt almost natural that unnerved her the most. He had already traced a line of kisses down her neck, and was exploring the hollow above her collarbone, before it registered with her that this may not be the best position from which to have a serious discussion.
“Damon,” she said, trying to sound firm, rather than breathless. “Damon! I didn't ask you up here to make out!”
He lifted his head and smirked up at her. “No reason we can't do both. You talk, and I'll just...carry on.” His hand glided under the shirt she was wearing, and she fought the urge to just close her eyes and let it happen.
She slapped his shoulder.
“Ouch,” he muttered, “You're becoming quite aggressive, aren't you?”
You're one to talk - and stop undoing my shirt!” She tugged the material from his fingers.
“Actually, I think you'll find that's my shirt,” he said. “And very delectable it looks on you, too, but I think we'd have more fun if you took it off again...”
“These evasion tactics are not going to work, you know,” Elena scolded.
He nipped at her collarbone, and she let out a strangled gasp, as arousal curled between her thighs. She should have had this conversation in the kitchen - except she had a very vivid memory of what had happened the last time they'd been alone in the kitchen, and it bore a startling resemblance to this scenario.
“Damn it, Damon, listen to me!” She pressed down on the bed, and tried to roll them over. To her surprise, it worked, and he laughed as he lay spread eagled under her. She scowled down at him. “This isn't supposed to be funny, Damon, I need to talk to you about us.”
His face sobered slightly. “What about us? Everything is alright. isn't it?” .
“Of course, everything isn't all right,” she snapped. “What sort of stupid question is that? God, Damon.” She hit his shoulder again, and he just stared at her, eyes crystal clear and questioning. He was waiting for her to talk again, she realised. No pressure, no affirmations, just giving her time to say what she needed to say.
And suddenly her decision didn't seem so clear cut.
“Damn it,” she muttered, as she clambered off the bed.
He propped himself up on his elbow, and smirked at her. “I thought you wanted to talk,” he said, his voice teasing again.
“I don't know what I want any more,” she admitted, under her breath. “Come on, we should join the others.”
He tilted his head, his eyes following her to the door, and then suddenly he was in front of her, his arm barring her way. “Elena, if you have something to say, you should say it now,” he said seriously.
“Or forever hold my peace?” she asked.
“I don't think I'm that lucky,” he said. “But this is obviously weighing on you mind.” His face lit up with understanding. “Has this something to do with Stefan?” he asked, in a singsong voice. “Has he been talking about becoming one with the squirrels again?”
She looked away, suddenly unable to meet his eyes, and his hand snapped out and grabbed her chin. “I don't know what kind of tale my little brother has been spinning you, Elena,” he said flatly. “But you're too young to live on the Bambi diet. You saw what happened to Vicki. I don't want that to be you.”
“Stefan says I can do it,” she said quietly.
“Stefan was not a newly made Vampire when he swore off human blood,” Damon said. “He doesn't know shit...” His voice petered off as he looked at her. “That isn't all, is it?”
She shook her head. “He thinks we should leave - you know, afterwards.”
“Yeah, I'll just bet he does,” Damon drawled. “And you?”
She glared up at him defiantly. “I haven't made up my mind,” she said, daring him to say something.
“Hmm,” he said. “All right.” He lifted his hand, and she pushed past him onto the landing. “So glad we had this chat,” he called after her. “I feel we've really cleared the air!”
“Ass,” she muttered.
“Heard that.”
“I know..”
PART TWENTY
Author: jinxed_wood
Characters/Pairings: Damon /Elena, ensemble.
Rating: R
Category: Drama
Spoilers: All of season one.
Warnings: There be smut, blood and vampires, in no particular order...
Show/Bookverse: Show
Summary:Stefan reignites his hunger for human blood, Elena tries to hold on as she deals with being turned, and Damon ensures he gets his own way...
Previous parts: PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX | PART SEVEN | PART EIGHT | PART NINE | PART TEN | PART ELEVEN | PART TWELVE | PART THIRTEEN | PART FOURTEEN | PART FIFTEEN | PART SIXTEEN | PART SEVENTEEN | PART EIGHTEEN...
____________________
PART NINETEEN
“And that'd be the the school teacher - you kids play nice, or I might have to report you.”
Elena watched as Damon went to answer the door and left her alone with Stefan in the kitchen. She was almost tempted to follow him, as she wasn't sure if she was up to another round of recriminations. Every time Stefan looked at her, she felt something in her heart squeeze, as if seeing his face was almost too painful. She'd experienced grief before, so she recognised the symptoms.
Stefan covered her hand on the table, and it was all she could do to prevent herself from jumping. Something of this must have translated to her face, because he gave her a pained look. “Elena, I know the changes you're going through at the moment are difficult, but you do realise you have some hard choices ahead of you?” he asked softly.
“Stefan, I'm not sure this is the best time to have this conversation,” she said.
“Trust me, there's never a good time,” Stefan said. “The first few weeks of being a Vampire, are probably the most intense you'll ever experience. Every emotion you have, every base instinct, will burn through you like a fire.”
“Yes, I've already had this conversation with Damon - when you weren't here,” she said dryly.
He winced. “I deserve that.”
“Big of you to admit it.”
“Why is it that you let Damon make mistakes, but you won't let me?” he asked flatly.
“Oh, I don't know, maybe because Damon doesn't try to hold me to a higher standard than he keeps,” she bit back.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“It means I'm not perfect, Stefan, I never have been, and this...this is hard, and no one should ever go through this alone - and that's what you did. You left me alone.” Her hand curled under his as she tried to tamp down on the emotion that rushed over her. It would be so easy just to switch it off...but Damon was right. If she started now, she might never stop. “We shouldn't do this now,” she said lowly. “I need to concentrate on protecting my family.”
“Elena-”
She glared at him “What?”
“I love you. You know that, don't you?”
And there they were, the magic words. Unshed tears blurred her vision, as she stared at the vulnerable expression on his face but, try as she might, she couldn't bring herself to return them. “You hurt me,” she said.
“It was one moment of weakness, Elena,” he said softly. “Don't throw away everything because I was weak.”
The pain in her chest swelled, almost leaving her breathless. “How can you live like this?” she asked hoarsely. “It hurts so much.”
His hand squeezed hers. “Most of us don't, Elena,” he said. “We turn it off.”
“Damon thinks I shouldn't do that.”
He hesitated. “Damon is right.”
“Huh,” Elena said. “Imagine that.”
He offered her a small smile. “I know I haven't been myself lately,” he said. “I haven't fed on human blood in so long...but I can go back onto animal blood, and you can do it with me. We can do it together.”
A sharp comment bubbled to her lips, but she swallowed it back. “I don't like feeling pressured,” she said.
“I don't mean to,” he said. “But the sooner you move onto an animal blood diet, the better. Human blood accentuates the trigger responses when you get hungry. Sooner or later, you're going to snap at the wrong moment and kill someone you care about - and you don't want that.”
Elena tensed as she remembered the stiffening corpse of Hillary Spenser, who had been her neighbour since she was eight, and was now buried in the woods behind the lodge. In that moment, she knew that there were some things she would never tell Stefan...another wedge between them.
Stefan was right, this wasn't who she wanted to be.
“Elena?” Stefan said softly.”Are you alright?”
“No,” she admitted. “No, I'm not.”
His hand tightened around hers again. “We can get through this. When this is over, we can leave town, just you and me. We'll make a new life for ourselves.”
A life without Damon. Elena's chest constricted at the thought; did she want that? She bit her lip. “I'm not sure if I can leave Damon behind,” she said, in a voice so small, that a human would have had difficulty hearing it. Stefan's ears weren't human, however.
“History cannot repeat itself,” he said firmly.
“I'm not Katherine, Stefan.”
“No, you're not, that's kind of my point. Do you really want to be remade in her image?”
Elena shuddered at the thought. “No.”
He smiled gently. “Then we're agreed?” he asked.
She nodded silently.
“Okay,” he slid back his chair. “I'll go and find Bonnie. Perhaps now would be a good time to clear the air with Damon?”
She nodded again, and then waited until he left through the patio doors, before she stood and made a beeline for the fridge. The hunger, always a fire in the pit of her stomach, was raging high now. Belatedly, she realised Damon had hit it on the head when he said she didn't like feeding in front of Stefan.
Elena grabbed a bag of blood, and stuck in the microwave as she thought over Stefan's words. She wondered what it would be like to live on animal blood - was it really as bad as Damon said? She sighed, as the microwave pinged, and took the bag out. Slitting it open and pouring it into a mug, Elena gulped it down before squaring her shoulders, and heading for the den.
What was it that Damon had said, again? Oh yeah, that it was better to rip it off, like a band-aid.
“We need to talk,” she said, as firmly as she could, when she entered the den.
Alaric muttered something under his breath, but Elena ignored him as she kept her eyes on Damon's reaction.
“Upstairs,” he said
She nodded, relieved. This was not a conversation she wanted in front of witnesses. “That might be best,” she said.
He gave her a half smile, the one that said he knew exactly what she was thinking, before he headed for the stairs. With an apologetic smile towards Alaric, Elena followed him. He headed straight for his bedroom, and Elena suddenly wondered if this was such a good idea. Maybe she should have insisted on a more neutral territory...
But it was too late, he'd already slipped through the door. “Come along, Elena, don't dawdle,” his voice teased, and Elena walked into the room after him.
He was lying on the bed, his fingers knitted together on his stomach, and Elena jerked her mind away from the last time she'd seen him on that bed. She paced the floor as she tried to find the words she needed.
“Maybe you could move a few feet to the left,” he said, after a moment's silence. “I'm quite fond of that rug, and you're wearing a hole in it.”
Elena stopped in her tracks. “It's not funny, Damon,” she said. “This thing....we have, it's getting out of control.” There, she'd said it. Sort of.
A slow smile spread across his face, as he drew quotation marks in the air. “This thing,” he said, “Seems to involve a lot of significant pauses.”
She glared at him, both frustrated and amused. “I'm trying to be serious here,” she said. “Try to return the favour.”
He rolled his eyes, and let his feet drop to the floor as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Right, here I am, all serious.”
And then he did the flirty eye thing.
“See? That's what I'm talking about!” she growled, gesturing at him. “We can't keep doing this.”
“Well, I suppose I should be grateful you used the word we towards the end, there,” he said. Elena felt her cheeks heat as her mind flashed to the incident in the shower. He took advantage of her distraction by catching her hand and pulling.
“Oh, for the days when you were human and had better impulse control,” he mocked, as she landed on his lap. A part of her already knew she was doomed when his scent enveloped her.
“This is such a bad idea,” she muttered.
He flipped them over onto the bed, and it was the way that it felt almost natural that unnerved her the most. He had already traced a line of kisses down her neck, and was exploring the hollow above her collarbone, before it registered with her that this may not be the best position from which to have a serious discussion.
“Damon,” she said, trying to sound firm, rather than breathless. “Damon! I didn't ask you up here to make out!”
He lifted his head and smirked up at her. “No reason we can't do both. You talk, and I'll just...carry on.” His hand glided under the shirt she was wearing, and she fought the urge to just close her eyes and let it happen.
She slapped his shoulder.
“Ouch,” he muttered, “You're becoming quite aggressive, aren't you?”
You're one to talk - and stop undoing my shirt!” She tugged the material from his fingers.
“Actually, I think you'll find that's my shirt,” he said. “And very delectable it looks on you, too, but I think we'd have more fun if you took it off again...”
“These evasion tactics are not going to work, you know,” Elena scolded.
He nipped at her collarbone, and she let out a strangled gasp, as arousal curled between her thighs. She should have had this conversation in the kitchen - except she had a very vivid memory of what had happened the last time they'd been alone in the kitchen, and it bore a startling resemblance to this scenario.
“Damn it, Damon, listen to me!” She pressed down on the bed, and tried to roll them over. To her surprise, it worked, and he laughed as he lay spread eagled under her. She scowled down at him. “This isn't supposed to be funny, Damon, I need to talk to you about us.”
His face sobered slightly. “What about us? Everything is alright. isn't it?” .
“Of course, everything isn't all right,” she snapped. “What sort of stupid question is that? God, Damon.” She hit his shoulder again, and he just stared at her, eyes crystal clear and questioning. He was waiting for her to talk again, she realised. No pressure, no affirmations, just giving her time to say what she needed to say.
And suddenly her decision didn't seem so clear cut.
“Damn it,” she muttered, as she clambered off the bed.
He propped himself up on his elbow, and smirked at her. “I thought you wanted to talk,” he said, his voice teasing again.
“I don't know what I want any more,” she admitted, under her breath. “Come on, we should join the others.”
He tilted his head, his eyes following her to the door, and then suddenly he was in front of her, his arm barring her way. “Elena, if you have something to say, you should say it now,” he said seriously.
“Or forever hold my peace?” she asked.
“I don't think I'm that lucky,” he said. “But this is obviously weighing on you mind.” His face lit up with understanding. “Has this something to do with Stefan?” he asked, in a singsong voice. “Has he been talking about becoming one with the squirrels again?”
She looked away, suddenly unable to meet his eyes, and his hand snapped out and grabbed her chin. “I don't know what kind of tale my little brother has been spinning you, Elena,” he said flatly. “But you're too young to live on the Bambi diet. You saw what happened to Vicki. I don't want that to be you.”
“Stefan says I can do it,” she said quietly.
“Stefan was not a newly made Vampire when he swore off human blood,” Damon said. “He doesn't know shit...” His voice petered off as he looked at her. “That isn't all, is it?”
She shook her head. “He thinks we should leave - you know, afterwards.”
“Yeah, I'll just bet he does,” Damon drawled. “And you?”
She glared up at him defiantly. “I haven't made up my mind,” she said, daring him to say something.
“Hmm,” he said. “All right.” He lifted his hand, and she pushed past him onto the landing. “So glad we had this chat,” he called after her. “I feel we've really cleared the air!”
“Ass,” she muttered.
“Heard that.”
“I know..”
PART TWENTY