I own nothing except for the plot.
She walked into her bedroom and sat down on her bed. She allowed herself to think of the last couple months, of everything that had gone wrong. She felt it begin to pull her down and steadfastly shook it off, as usual. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. And found the image of Damon, beaten and bloody burned into the inside of her eyelids. Her eyes popped back open and she heard Stefan's voice telling her he knows she has feelings for Damon. Hears her denial, reverberating through her skull. In her mind, she keeps coming back to what Rebekah had done to him. She had almost lost him. Again. A chill went down her spine at the thought. Suddenly, she couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. She began to shake. Slowly, she pulled out her I-Pod, which was set on random, and pushed play. Music kept her sane. That, and writing in her journal. She reached for the book and pen that was on her nightstand. Before her fingers had even brushed the cover, the first notes began. Her lips twisted at the irony as Over My Head by The Fray began to play.
I never knew, I never knew that everything was falling through
That everyone I knew was waiting on a queue
To turn and run when all I needed was the truth
The signs of everything falling to bits had been obvious for over a year. And everyone had been trying to make her see their take on the truth for months. But she didn't know what truth was anymore. Too many lies had woven themselves into her life, into her mind. Hell, the vervain she put in her tea each morning was the only thing enabling her to even believe her own memories, her own vision and hearing, her very thoughts.
But that's how it's got to be
It's coming down to nothing more than apathy
I'd rather run the other way than stay and see
The smoke and who's still standing when it clears
She was itching to run, her mind was screaming at her to just GO! Anywhere, everywhere, as fast as possible. The only thing keeping her in this God-forsaken town was the knowledge that Klaus would likely kill everyone in Mystic Falls if she ran. But God, she wanted to go. She was dragging everyone she loved down with her and had no way of stopping it. Sure, they had a stake, but it was useless. She couldn't risk killing them all just to get rid of Klaus. And no one knew who had sired the line beyond Rose. They were back to square fucking one.
Everyone knows I'm in over my head, over my head
With eight seconds left in overtime, he's on your mind
He's on your mind
Once again, she saw Damon, broken and bloody, so clearly it was like he was in front of her again. She stood up, picked a candle holder up off her dresser, and threw it against the wall. She took an odd sort of satisfaction in the sound of the shattering crystal. She was tired. More tired than she could explain at always being so damn helpless.
I wish you were a stranger I could disengage
Just say that we agree and then never change
Soften a bit until we all just get along
But that's disregard
Find another friend and you discard
As you lose the argument in a cable car
Hanging above as the canyon comes between
She understood Katherine so much better than she used to. Caring for people became a liability as the doppelganger. It put responsibility on your shoulders. Responsibility that she didn't know how much longer she could bear the weight of. They were all in a damn cable car, suspended above empty air, arguing about nothing that mattered in the end because every decision would be met with a dead end, and just waiting for someone to cut the wire holding them up. By the end of it, whoever survived would be so far separated from anything they used to be or know, that she wasn't sure it would even be worth surviving. She was already becoming someone she didn't even recognize. She heard herself, back at the ball, 'Maybe that's the problem.' What had she been thinking, saying that to him? She hadn't even meant it.
And suddenly I become a part of your past
I'm becoming the part that don't last
I'm losing you and it's effortless
She couldn't really blame him for looking right through her the last few weeks. For acting like nothing mattered. She had never given him reason to believe any different. To believe anything in regards to her, really, with how she had been blowing hot and cold over the last several months. No wonder he had washed his hands of her. A few words and he was gone. So easy. Too easy.
Without a sound we lose sight of the ground
In the throw around
Never thought that you wanted to bring it down
I won't let it go down till we torch it ourselves
She had taken it for granted that Damon would always stick it out for her. He was the head of the group at the end of the day. And he had stuck it out, despite her awful treatment of him. Surprisingly. Or not surprisingly, actually. He was a much better man than he liked to present himself to be. It had taken her too long to acknowledge that in anything but the most judgmental of ways- she had always made it clear that her approval had strict rules attached.
And everyone knows I'm in over my head, over my head
With eight seconds left in overtime, he's on your mind
He's on your mind
She had been in over her head for a long time. With Katherine, with Klaus, with the supernatural world in general. She was a human, a pawn, being played in a game with many more kings and queens with infinite options on the board than should be. And the few pieces defending her had succeeded in avoiding check mate by a little strategy and a lot of luck. It was bound to run out eventually. It had almost run out today.
Everyone knows he's on your mind
Everyone knows I'm in over my head
I'm in over my head, I'm over my...
She switched the I-Pod off. Everyone was right. There was more going on with her and Damon than she wanted to admit. He was on her mind a lot more that she even wanted to consider in the privacy of her own mind. But she was in over her head with him too. He was like a force of nature. He would swallow her whole if she wasn't careful. Just like this disaster with Klaus and his family was slowly devouring her life, her very soul. She just couldn't do it all at once.
She opened a drawer and pulled out a fresh journal. On the first page, she put the date and then began writing out all of her thoughts.
Damon at least deserved to know that while she wasn't welcoming him into her arms, she wasn't welcoming his brother back either. Ever. She couldn't. The Stefan she loved was gone. There were glimmers of him occasionally, but just as the Elena that existed before she identified as the doppelganger was gone, she would never be able to accept him as once again being the Stefan she knew before she identified him as the Ripper. Stefan the Ripper that was willing to kill her in the same way, the same place that her parents died. A fate he himself had once saved her from, back when he was the Stefan she loved. And he had stooped so low not to save his brother's life or to protect anyone else or even because his heart had been broken and he was lashing out, but for revenge. Pure, unchecked hatred of Klaus. No, she could never even manage to sleep in the same bed with someone that could do that for such a dark reason. She would always have the voice in the back of her head wondering when he would turn on her again. She would never have to worry about that with Damon and she knew it. He would always put her first, no matter what, without question. Because when Damon loved, it was with everything. It was all consuming, with no room left to even entertain the notion of betraying the person that held his heart.
As for Damon himself, the idea of someone hurting him raised an anger in her so tumultuous that it burned her from the inside out. She wanted to tear into Rebekah with her bare hands and until nothing recognizable was left. The violence of her anger surprised her. But she knew that if their positions were reversed, Damon would have torn whoever her tormentor was apart limb from limb at the first opportunity. When she thought of the look of pained surprise on his face when she had said, 'Well maybe that's the problem,' she felt like her heart was being ripped in two, because she had the sinking feeling that nothing she said would ever undo the damage of the thoughtless, untrue statement. No amount of apologies would make a difference. Because he had taken the words to heart. He believed them and he was doing his best to erase her from his heart and banish her from his life. And the idea of that made it hard to breathe. She didn't know how to live in a world in which Damon didn't love her. And she knew that probably made her a terrible person considering how little she was offering him in return, but it was the truth. She depended upon his strength, dependability, sarcasm, wit, intelligence, caring, loyalty, and so many other things that made Damon who he is. He was the person that had gotten her through her darkest days, who came through no matter what, who was willing to sacrifice so much more than she was willing to in order to get done what needed to be done. She could count on him to have her back, no matter what. Even when she hurt him. She wasn't the Elena she had become without him beside her. He had helped make her who she is. And when the smoke cleared, if they were both still standing, he deserved everything she had to give. But for right now, she just didn't have anything to offer.
When she had finished writing all of her thoughts and feelings, she closed the journal. She quickly scribbled on a post-it note and stuck it on the front. She then quietly left the house. Climbing in her car, she tossed the journal in the passenger seat and drove to the boarding house. When she arrived, she made her way up to Damon's room as quietly as possible. She didn't want to run into Stefan if she could avoid it. She opened the door and slipped inside, still making as little sound as possible. The fact that he didn't wake told her just how much damage Rebekah had done. As she stared down at his sleeping form, she repressed a shiver at the thought of just how close the Original had been to driving a stake through his heart. She propped the journal up on his nightstand. She smiled a little as she re-read the post-it note. She had written, 'Damon, you actually have permission to read my journal. Your welcome. Love, Elena.'
She climbed into bed next to him and curled up to go to sleep. It may be too late to reverse the damage she had caused, but she would do her damnedest to make sure he knew how sorry she was. Whatever it took.
She may be in over her head right now, but she would fight like hell to make sure she wouldn't be forever. Goodness knows the man next to her had already fought enough for the both of them.
A/N This will probably remain a one-shot. I am busy working on my other, multi- chapter story Unknown Truths, but depending on how the CW's version of 3-20 goes, I may continue it out of frustration for how Delena is being portrayed in the show...