Haunts Me Still by LindaMarie I: Elena Waking. Waking like a bullet to the head, like ice on snow, like...drowning. No. She knows drowning, and this isn't it. It's backward. It's breath where there was none, pulse where there'd only been brief flares of power and long rests. This is something new, something unexpected, something...real. Where nothing had been before. It is unfamiliar, but solid. Comforting. Resting, sitting on something cold and soft, and shivering, but it's good because it feels like it's never happenened before. At least, not for a long, long time. And eyes opening to something familiar, only new. Like a long-lost memory. Like amnesia, only closer and fresher. Like being born. It's rushing back into her mind. Life. Living and dying and living and dying and...apparently, living again. She should be more surprised, but this is like old news. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. Or not, judging by how cold she is. She smiles at the associations she's making. Ghosts don't make associations. It's the here and now, and the past, and that's it. Forever. Only now coming to realization at her surroudings. They're all...they're all there, right there, so close she could touch, and just...just staring. Thinking there's something wrong with her, maybe her hair's mussed or she's aged a million years or something, and then...remembering. She's supposed to be dead, and though she can't bring herself to be too shocked, they probably can. And she's almost positive she's naked. Tears suddenly filling her eyes, hot, alive feeling, when she sees that he's here. Stefan. He's here and he's still staring, kinda dazed, kinda shocked, kind of...afraid? Backs away a step even as she watches. But he was almost dead and if she hadn't had the strength, he would be, and it makes her want to protect him. Hold him. Defend him from the world, blanket him, save him. Take that lost, haunted look out of his eyes... "Stefan..." Her voice, her own voice, not a spirit's but hers. But. Wait. "Stefan," she says again, a little more desperately. Because it's not her voice. Except it is. Out of her throat, out of her body, but...deeper. Throatier, like maybe she has a cold or she drank something thick, or... And Stefan's wide-eyed, still staring even though some of the others seem to move closer to help her, to see what's wrong. But they look confused, too. He steps back a little farther, near the edge of the clearing. Tears brimming over now, afraid, because something's wrong and Elena can't avoid it. Can't run away. Can't... "Bonnie...Bonnie, what's going on?" Shuddering to hear this other voice coming out of her mouth and not know why. Her friend gulping and looking at her and...and worst of all, not answering. Panic now, rising in her, flooding her with the knowledge that they know what's going on, that thy won't tell her for some reason that maybe she really doesn't want to know... "Please, you guys, it's me. Elena. I...please? Please? Pleasejusttalktomewhyareyoulookingatmelikethat?" Words blurring together when the ache inside tries to block her throat and she has to force every word out as fast as possible before talking just won't happen any more. "Please." No one moving. No one saying anything at all. Silence except for her own breath gasping in and out... "Elena." A voice from the back, and it's Damon, with dark...understanding...in his eyes. Flash of him helping her before, after her last death, when she didn't know what to do... He steps close to her, slower than usual. She knows what he's feeling, remembers it all too well from a life she almost wants to forget. Hunger. But he's holding it back, slinging off his jacket to smooth over her shoulders. Leaning close to her ear, breath warm on a body's that's much too cold to be good. "Shhhh. Look down at yourself." Automatically obeying, head bent to see what he's talking about. And she doesn't understand how she can see what she sees, her heart pounding in her ears, racing to catch up with her thoughts that are going a mile a minute, vision blurring as everything goes fuzzy and... Black. II: Damon Soft tang of sweat in the air--fear in the cold. Elena's warm body limp in his arms, difference obvious everywhere. Holding her human friends back with a flat-handed gesture while he leans in to look. Elena's almost the same, really. Same hair, same eyes, same...face, beyond something more solid in the lines. Soft skin with fine hair, but underlying muscles that are harder, less forgiving to the touch. He's very obviously human, which is anything but disappointing. He. Strange how easy the segue comes in. Damon doesn't know how, and certainly not why, but this is not the Elena his brother once mistook for Katherine. In fact, he's not sure whether he should even be calling him that any more..."Elena" implying feminine, after all. "We need to take him somewhere safe," he says flatly, looking up to meet his brother's eyes over the crowd of heads. Glazed look there, but he needs him because they may be alive, but they're not up to full strength. Needs someone to alternate with while he feeds, and needs somewhere secure to keep Elena. He's not getting any response, and he'll be damned if he'll play human in a clearing full of food for much longer. "Now." And oh yes, that stirs Stefan to life. "I..." He looks from Elena's unconscious form to the crowd of humans around them. "Yes. The rest of you need to go home. Get some sleep. I'll...I'll contact you tomorrow." Not really paying attention to what his own mouth says. Drifting like a sleepwalker toward Damon holding the body. "Let's go." The others look about to protest, but Damon's out of patience. Leaving faster than they can see, taking the shortest possible way to the boarding house, he calls back to Stefan, You need to feed now, brother. I'll meet you at your room. And now they're alone on the path, nothing to think about but himself and the warm creature he holds. Can't, can't let his mind roam to where the malice went, where the hatred went for the brother for whom he was never good enough. Can't and won't. Instead think about what he's about to do, out in the forest alone, head bent over the throat of a doe and the relief at being sated... He feels his fangs unsheathe at the thought and changes it. Living like this is an endless process of anticipation--the waiting to bite is better than the bite itself. So he'll draw on the patience it took decades to acquire, and think about... Well, as little as possible. Reaching the boarding house door and trying the lock. There's something...off...about the old woman here, something compelling but not worth the trouble of bothering her to find out. Forty or so years ago, maybe. But not now. The door handle gives easily, and he climbs through the darkness to his brother's room. More discreet here than in his own downstairs. More difficult for him to leave quietly there as well--no doubt why Stefan insisted he have it. Scent of him here, pleasant autumn days in the home of their youth. Damon lays Elena out on the bed and closes the open window, gathering a folded blanket from a nearby chair to lay over him. Sifting through Stefan's travel bag for suitable clothing--they'll be a bit large, and his own would no doubt fit better, but he doesn't want to leave the human alone for a second. In case he wakes up while he's gone. Finally settles on a thick soft sweater and warm black pants, underwear too, feeling a little awkward at handling his brother's clothing like this. Damon seats himself next to Elena, clothes in his lap, waiting for him to resume consciousness. He looks so vulnerable there, form rising and falling with breath and head moving slightly as if he struggles to awaken. Compelling to observe his eyes as they drift open, blue settling on his own black. "I...Damon? Where...?" Shock and remembrance setting in at hearing his new voice. He sits up quickly. "What's going on? What am I..." The blanket has slipped down to reveal his bare chest. "Put these on." Damon presses the stack of material into his hands, after a moment standing and turning his back. He's afraid still, perhaps even more than when he first appeared, and Damon doesn't see the sense in aggravating the feeling unnecessarily. Soft human sounds, somewhat muffled under the swish of fabric against fabric, clothing against skin. Long silent moments passing at random, and Damon can't help but imagine Elena examining his own body. His new body. What seems like an hour later: "Okay. I'm ready." Caught off guard and turning a little too quickly. Elena's shaking under the clothes, but obviously not from cold. Damon stays where he is, minding what's as close to a territorial boundary as Elena currently has. He says, just to break the silence and reinforce his concern, "Are you warm enough?" Wide eyes on him. "I...yes. Yes." Apparently trying to stop the shaking now. He sits, as if worried he won't be able to keep standing. "Damon...what's... what's happened to me?" Ironic grin that turns itself off in a flash. "I think that should be fairly obvious." And he smiles back shakily, looking just a tad more at ease. "...yes. Er, what I, what I mean is--" "--Why?" Damon finishes for him, "I have no idea." Shoulders slumping, resigned to his ignorance, Elena looks around the room, unspoken question in his eyes. "My brother will be here soon," he offers in response, and Elena gives a grateful nod of acknowledgement. "This looks...a lot better than the last time I saw it." "Yes, well, we owe our hostess a debt for that." Leans against one wall, arms crossed securely. "She never charged for the repairs." He listens carefully, feeling a spark of Power, then puts in, "He's here." The door opens a few moments later, almost hesitantly. And his brother steps in, looking almost too weary to stand. "Stefan!" Elena stands and moves quickly toward him, drawing up as he flinches away from him. "Stefan," he says again, more cautiously. Damon interjects quickly. "Elena," he says slowly, eyes on his brother only. "Why don't you let him sit down?" Stefan blinks hard when the name is said, but heaves a relieved sigh as the human moves back to the bed, leaving a clear path to the room's sole chair. Once seated, he looks from Elena to Damon. "What's...what's going on?" "Why do you assume that I know?" Impatient response, brought on by rising hunger and the implication of responsibility in his brother's voice. "I...don't know." Stefan's face takes on the same resigned look that his former lover's had mere minutes before. "I'm going out. Wait here with him until I get back," Damon says quickly, weary of banter. Not entirely sure who he was addressing. He opens the trap door and climbs through. Has to make himself forget, if even just for a short time... Jumps off the roof with boastful, exuberant grace, letting the hunter take over. Prowling the streets for an abnormally long time before settling in on the chosen house, peering in through the first-storey window. He calls with his mind, watches the long tanned fingers pull up on the base of the pane. And the prerequisite offer, "Come in." Blond boy, with eyes a lighter blue than he'd prefer. But he'll have to do, with the current circumstances barring the genuine article. He wasn't even asleep, up looking through the secret magazine stash under his bed. One of them still spread out on the bedspread, an artfully sheet-draped man on the cover. Damon smiles. III: Stefan "So," he begins awkwardly to the boy who apparently used to be the love of his life. If he squints and makes his eyes blur, he could pretend it's her... Because it is her, if he can just get over the shock. Right there, close enough to touch...that same long pale hair he used to bury his face in, those eyes that echo the ring on his finger. And the one on the chain around his throat. Sudden inspiration at that image. He draws out the thin chain, holding the gold circle between thumb and forefinger. "Do you...want this back? It is yours. I gave it to you." Has to force himself to stop speaking, because Stefan suddenly wants to pour his heart out to this waif of a boy, tell him how hard it was to just keep going through the motions after she was gone... But she's not gone. Elena. Elena's here, and God, how he needs her to be... "Elena," he starts again, because she--he--hasn't answered him. Darkened eyes looking out the window. And Stefan has to remind himself that this is new to Elena, too, think about what must be going through her (his) head... Elena clears his (her--this is too strange...) throat. "Can you...not call me that?" "What?" Can literally feel his own frown forming. "That...name. It's, it's not really appropriate, is it? I mean, it's like naming your daughter Bob or something, right? I mean..." Blonde head slumped down, hair veiling his face. Seemingly lost for words. Or maybe just for reasons. "What would you...what would you rather I call you?" And he can't stand to talk so coldly, not to this human who's been the focus of his life for years now....With all of this, Stefan feels close enough, bold enough, to move from the chair to the foot of the bed. "I--I don't really know. I just...It makes me nervous when you call me that. Like I'm someone I'm not. Or like I'm supposed to act like I can't. Or...or, I don't know. Never mind. I don't really care. I..." And right now, if he hadn't already noticed, he would have sworn that this was her, just her like she was before, human and warm and... And just like she (he) really is, now. There's no difference at all. No difference. Because he chose Elena the first time because she looked just like he wanted her to, and he'll break every single one of his vows before he treats Elena the same this time as well. So he does what he wants to, takes the blond's hand that's almost indiscernible from when it was attached to a female body. Doesn't let go when he tries to pull away. Stefan slips the ring off the chain, holding it in his free palm. "I meant what I said. Take it." He wants to say so much more to Elena, say, "Don't leave me alone with myself, please, and don't ever change, don't ever not want me here..." But he can't. Ache inside like a bullet--no, like a sliver of wood deep in his gut. Compulsively slips the ring on Elena's finger. It's a start. It's a start because he doesn't know what else to do. He's wanted her back so bad--as a ghost, as a human, as a vampire--anything to just have her, but he never expected this. He should be thrilled, should be down on his knees thanking whoever gave him this chance just to have her back, but is that--is that right? He wants to draw a line in the sand between his moral code and his past loyalties. But he ultimately doesn't know if there is one. "Stefan--please," Heartshattering confusion in the new voice. Please what? Does that mean, "Please, I've missed you and please tell me you've felt the same?" Or is it, "Please, go away, I can't deal with this right now?" Or (please) could it be, "Please, don't leave me now?" Doesn't know. Stefan nods his head slightly, not wanting to let go and not sure what to say. God, god--can't think of one time in his whole life where he wasn't unsure that didn't involve either her or Damon. And he's (she's) crying now, just quietly like she (why even bother trying to change it?) doesn't want anyone to hear it. "Elena..." "What am I supposed to do, Stefan?" "I--" Stopped as the trapdoor falls open again and Damon moves back through it. His dark eyes beaming a hole through Stefan before lighting on Elena. "I trust everyone fared well in my absence?" A glint when he must have seen her tears... Stefan has to ask himself, Is this all I've been running from, all this time? "Er...Yes, Damon," Elena says, wiping her eyes. "We were just...talking." "I see." Moves to seat himself on a trunk next to the bed. He must have seen the ring on her finger by now. "What do you want to do now, Elena?" his brother continues in that steady voice, the one Stefan always wished he could have. Don't show emotion, don't show weakness, be safe... "What? I...I don't..." "You do know, Elena. Just say it. Don't think." A new...authoritativeness in Damon's demeanor that Stefan's never seen before. What he wanted from him so long ago. Wanted him to say, "Don't do what Father tells you," or, "Don't blame yourself." What he didn't get. Instead, "You always do what you're told," and, "You're so damned responsible." Was never sure what to do to be accepted, could only fill the roll laid out for him... "I want...I want not to be alone." Her eyes raised to look at each of them, as if not sure if that's enough, or not sure they understand. Stefan holds her hand a shade tighter, exchanges a long, strange look with Damon. No anger. So strange. "We...we won't leave you alone, Elena." Her eyes filling again as she watches them. "Are you sure? B-both of you?" And Damon reinforces the look between them, reaching out to gently take her other hand. "Yes." FIN.