station72 | i like to keep some things to myself

Entry tags:

i like to keep some things to myself

CHARACTERS: Damon Salvatore (

blooded), Elena Gilbert (

otrazhenie)
WHERE: Hyrypia - The Tents
WHEN: DAY :014 & END OF DAY :016
SUMMARY: Damon teaches Elena to pay attention to vital signs. & Damon has a nightmare. Elena asks some questions.
WARNINGS: Feeding, torture, despair, melodrama. Will add more if anything comes up!

❰ in a tent full of ten other people is not where damon would choose to have a nightmare, if he could avoid it. of course, he'd choose not to have any nightmares at all if that was an option, but if he has to have them, having them in at least a semblance of privacy would be ideal.

no such luck now. he's had a run of good luck since they got to hyrypia, no nightmares or reminders of augustine at all, but the night of his hunt... something must have set his subconscious off, but what, he has no idea.

it's not the worst nightmare he's ever had, at least. no one's hands in his guts, he still has both eyes. his whole body aches, but that was normal in those years, just something he got used to until he finally fully healed once he was free. it's not the ache that scares him, though, not the pervasive and constant pain that makes his stomach drop and his fingers twitch against his cot in his sleep.

enzo is screaming. he's been screaming for hours, and damon is stuck in his cell, unable to escape, or fight, or do anything at all but listen. he's sure enzo will scream himself hoarse and lose his voice at some point, whitmore will have to leave, something will have to make it stop, but it just keeps going, guttural and animal. there's nothing to do in the face of pain like that but scream. you can't escape it, can't fight back, can't do anything but take it, and that kind of thing... it makes you forget everything but the pain.

damon's never felt half so inhuman as he did when he was under whitmore's knife, guts stapled open, screaming himself hoarse while stomach acid burned through tissue that healed only to burn again in a vicious, agonising cycle.

the screaming suddenly stops, and for a moment, for just a second, damon is relieved. selfishly, terribly relieved, shoulders slumping and breath leaving him in one long sigh. but the screams don't start again, and whitmore doesn't bring enzo back to the cells, an hour passes and a terrible weight settles in damon's stomach as he realizes that enzo must be dead. he's left alone with whitmore now, the sole focus of all his terrible experiments, and maybe it's better that enzo is free of this but damon hates him for it, wishes he was dead too, why can't he die —

he wakes with a start, shaking violently as awareness trickles in slowly. he's on hyrypia, with the nest, with elena. enzo died in a fire in 1958, and damon had to turn off his humanity to let it happen. the shields that lapsed when damon fell asleep he builds back up slowly, hiding his thoughts in fog and under rivers of blood as he sits up and reaches gently for sam's mind, the path to his breathing excercise well-worn.

in to seven, out to eleven. ❱

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[ When Elena dreams, it's usually of drowning. That pressure on her chest to breathe, the burning in her lungs as they scream for air that isn't there. A desperate attempt at escaping her prison; glass that won't break and doors that refuse to open. A need to save someone else more than herself, and fearing that neither of them will survive this.

Tonight is no different. The water fills the inside of the vehicle as they quickly sink, the inches of air disappearing as they go deeper into the lake. The lake that was always meant to be the death of her. But as they slip beneath the surface and the rest of the world vanishes, she hears something. Screams. Muffled from the water, hazy as her mind begins to fade from lack of oxygen, but there's no mistaking those terrible sounds that are accompanied by an unsettled fear that scrapes at her mind like sharp rocks. Because whoever is feeling that way isn't supposed to--

Damon. The realization breaks through her dream and she wakes with a quiet gasp, turning instinctively to where she can feel he is, that connection between them already filling with her concern. ]

( Damon. What's wrong? )

❰ shit. elena reaches for damon through their connection, flooding the pathways between her mind and his with thick, cloying concern, and damon has to fight the instinct to shut his proverbial door in her face. even fighting that instinct, he can't fight the physical flinch that shudders through him when all that concern reaches him — it's so much easier to pretend he's fine when he doesn't have elena being all understanding at him. he had hoped that no one would wake up this time, that he would be allowed time to get his shit together without anyone poking and prodding at his trauma, but of course she had to wake up for this.

he takes a deep breath, forces his hands to stop shaking, and squares his shoulders.

Nothing, just a nightmare. Go back to sleep, Elena. ❱

[ A nightmare. Damon having a nightmare means... She doesn't even know. He always seems so unconcerned by things, never afraid unless it had to do with her or Stefan being in danger. There have to be other things that affect him, but he always keeps things so bottled up and doesn't let anyone in--

Like he's trying to do now. It doesn't matter than it's the middle of the night, her vampire sight lets her notice that flinch and she aches for him. Something is wrong, something's hurt him emotionally and she can't just let him face it alone. It's not physically possible for Elena Gilbert to leave someone in pain.

After a moment of intense focus and concentration, she does her best to pull her thoughts and emotions back to her side of the connection, though she's not skilled enough at it yet and remnants of her worry are left along the way like gossamer threads. She takes a deep breath of her own before carefully climbing off her cot and slowly inching toward him. ]

It wasn't just a nightmare, not for you. [ Her voice is a hushed whisper that no one else in the tent will be able to hear. If he's as lost in his own mind as she tends to be after the really bad nights, maybe speaking aloud will be easier for him. ]

❰ he shouldn't have said it was a nightmare, he should have... god. what could he even say, with her in his head, vampire eyes too sharp to miss the way he's holding himself so carefully, tightly wound, even in the dark. she would never believe him, and elena can't stand not to know things, especially when they're hurting her friends. damon sighs, running a hand over his eyes, trying to give himself a moment to think.

he can't... talk about this, he doesn't know how, not without tearing himself apart. even if he could find the words, they'd die on his tongue. misato and sam know but only because they experienced it with him, through a dream or being too far in his head. he's never had to try to articulate exactly what was done to him.

what was done to him. just that sentence makes damon grit his teeth, angry — it's so passive, so pathetic. he couldn't protect himself, couldn't protect enzo, couldn't fight, couldn't flee, couldn't do anything but let it happen. his skin crawls and his gut burns and damon wants to tear this out of himself, these memories and this fear, his most epic failure.

it takes a long moment for damon to respond to elena, and when he does he doesn't turn toward her, doesn't speak out loud at all.

Your nightmares aren't just nightmares either.

deflection is easier than talking about himself, always has been. ❱

[ He's trying to turn this back to her, which is the surest sign he could give her that there really is something wrong. It's deep inside him and he's trying to hide it, hide from it maybe, and she can't help but think back to that summer they'd spent together. All the times he'd known she was crying, hurting, dying inside in the wake of losing so many people she'd cared about so deeply, and yet he'd stuck by her, never pushing his way in to fix things but just being there. So while usually Elena would demand answers, try desperately to find a way to make things better, she has to accept that maybe, this time, that isn't the right approach.

She moves to the side of the cot and kneels down beside it, her hands touching the edge of it but not him. She wants to touch him, desperately, to hold his hand, stroke his hair, rub his back, anything and everything to soothe that feeling he's buried inside him, but she holds back for now. This isn't about her. ]

( No, they're not. But you're helping me through them. )

[ It's what Damon does, what he's been doing for so long now. Helping her. Protecting her. Isn't it her turn to do the same for him now? ]

( So let me help you, Damon. Please? You don't have to tell me about it, just tell me what I can do. )

❰ There is nothing you can do. Elena —

damon cuts himself off, shuttering his mind from hers to give him a moment to compose himself. he doesn't want to hurt her, not over something like this, but her concern has always been difficult to hold himself together under. she wraps her arms around him, asks him how he's doing, and it's almost enough to break him apart. elena is the only person alive who's ever asked him those kinds of questions and really wanted an answer — at least she was, until sam entered the picture — and it's so tempting to let himself fall apart so she can put him back together.

but there is no putting him back together, not from this. the damage is already done and he healed all wrong, like a broken leg that wasn't set properly. to heal properly he'd have to re-break, and damon can't find a way to do that. his whole life, the only thing that's kept him alive has been a glib disrespect for his own pain, taking it seriously might well kill him.

This is stupid, he says eventually, opening the connection between them again. all this melodrama over something that happened fifty years ago, because he doesn't know how to let go. he's stared monsters in the face and laughed and the thing that makes him cower is acknowledging his own pain. ❱

[ If Damon won't let himself break, then she'll break for him. Her heart is cracking under the strain of her concern for him, the worry of what could possibly be bad enough to leave him like this. What happened to him? When did it happen? What has he gone through to keep it locked inside like this, tucked away so deep that he can't bring it up to the surface now.

How long has he dealt with this alone? In the moments that Damon shuts himself away from her, Elena begins to crumble, little pieces of her chipping away at the pain she feels for him. Her throat tightens and she's glad they're not speaking aloud, because she wouldn't be able to anymore now. Tears burn at her eyes but she doesn't let them fall. This isn't about her, and that's what's killing her inside. Damon is hurting and he won't let her help him. ]

( Why is your pain stupid and mine justified? )

❰ there's no good answer to that question, so damon doesn't even try. he just stares at her, mouth pressed in a thin line, wanting to comfort her but knowing he can't. short of telling her, he can't fix this, and that leaves them at a messy impasse.

I don't want to hurt you, he says, and he knows it's not enough but it's all he's got. he's not trying to break her heart, but talking about augustine would hurt him, and showing her would hurt her.

whatcan he say...

I've never told anyone. It's not... about you. ❱

( I know it's not. )

[ And she does, really. She believes that he doesn't want to tell her because it will hurt her, that he's never actually told anyone and it's not at all personal toward her. But that doesn't make it any easier for her to accept that she's just supposed to let him handle all of this on his own. It's not in her nature and everything in her is shouting against the idea. ]

( You haven't had anyone on your side in a long time. That's why I'm so glad you have Sam here, because you don't deserve to be alone, Damon. You shouldn't have to go through this alone. )

[ Her hands ache to take his, to hold him gently like a frightened animal, to soothe him like a scared child in the night. But she knows instinctively that he won't let her, and she's trying so very hard to respect that. She doesn't want to do anything that will make this even worse for him.

But she has to offer. ]

( I'm a big girl, Damon. If you can be strong enough to tell me, I can be strong enough to hear it. But if you can't bring yourself to do that, to either of us, it's okay. I'm still here for you. Forever. )

[ Because they have forever now. He's a part of her life in a way she couldn't shake even if she wanted to, and if he needs more time, she can give that to him. Because it's not about her. ]

❰ you don't deserve to be alone.

it's stupid how easily elena can see through him and tell him things he never knew he needed to hear, simple things that he never even knew to consider or hope for until she said them. damon's chest constricts painfully, his grip on the cot tightening to the point the material creaks with the strain. after a long moment, he leans forward, touching their foreheads together — it's about the most contact he can handle, right now.

instead of telling her, he shows her. a sanitized version, devoid of memories of pain where he can edit them out, but enough so that she sees. she sees joseph salvatore, a syringe of vervain in his hand and glass sticking out of his neck; she sees dr. whitmore looking down with an impassive curiosity; sees enzo holding out his hand through bars in a wall.

she sees years pass, and then fire, and she feels —

nothing. ❱

[ She sees, and she knows it isn't all. He's shielding her from the harshest parts, but even knowing that it still hurts so much more than she'd thought it would. It had to be something terrible in order to have this affect on him, she'd known that, but this, this isn't something she could have guessed in her worst nightmares. That he'd endured it, survived it, and is here with her now... It's a miracle, really, and one that she's so incredibly grateful for.

Those tears that she's been fighting slip down her cheeks, and it takes all her strength not to throw her arms around him and never let him go. Instead, she forces herself to stay right where she is, to let him make any move he might be able to handle, like touching his forehead to hers. He's the one controlling this situation and she's not going to take that away from him. ]

( No one's ever going to hurt you like that again, I promise. I won't let them. )

[ It's the first thing she can think to say that might actually mean something to him, instead of just the usual platitudes that she's heard so many times before in the face of her own pain. She doesn't want to use those, not when there are more important things to say. And she means every word of it -- she will do anything to keep that from ever happening to him again. ]

❰ he'd laugh — no one and nothing has been able to stop the world from hurting him, not in the entire 171 years he's been alive, but... wouldn't it be nice just to believe it, just for a second? damon doesn't allow himself delusion, not ever, he wants everything that is real even if it hurts, but for a second... for a second he can believe that elena can protect him. no one else is awake to see it, it's like it's not really happening.

his head drops from leaning against hers to rest against her shoulder, and he doesn't move for a hug but he leans forward slightly, so that elena's curled around him.

Stefan always hated me for killing Joseph.

family was always so much more important to stefan than to damon. he cared about their illicit half-brother's descendants so much more than damon ever did, took it as a personal affront whenever damon treated them poorly, when all damon could see in them was the stain of giuseppe's blood, and then joseph's. the salvatore blood carries a legacy of pain with it, and the only good thing it was ever able to produce was stefan. of course he wouldn't be able to see their family for what it was. ❱

[ Damon has seen the lengths to which Elena will go to protect the people she cares about, the people she loves, and Damon is among the top of that list. If something happens and she isn't able to prevent it, then he can be damn sure that she'll stop whoever is doing it, she'll make them pay, and she'll help him survive it. And as much as the idea might bother her, if this doctor were here in front of her now, she would rip his head off without a second of hesitation for what he'd done.

But that's not important right now. She resists the urge to wrap her arms around him and hold him as tightly as she can, and instead just shifts ever so slightly so her body shelters him even further. ]

( You never told him why you did it, did you? )

[ She has to believe that Stefan would see things differently if he knew. For all the problems between the two brothers, they still protect each other. ]

❰ that gets an audible scoff out of damon, and he draws back just to level a Look at elena, one that says don't be ridiculous without him having to actually say the words.

And give him more to feel guilty about, have him give me those sad puppy eyes even more than he did already? "I'm so sorry I left you in hell for five years, Damon. I'm so sorry I never even looked for you. I, I, I."

even mentally, his tone gets vicious, angry, and damon forces himself to stop talking. elena loves stefan, and she doesn't need to hear this fifty year old bitterness about a boyfriend she's probably missing like hell. she hasn't said anything to damon about it, and he hasn't felt it from her, but he knows it's there somewhere.

He didn't deserve to know, he says eventually, with the mental impression of a sigh. He would have made it about him, about how guilty he felt. It was mine. ❱

[ Missing Stefan... has gotten to be something she's accustomed to. That summer was the start of the numbness, followed by those terrible days without his humanity. The months of not having the man she loved, and Damon being the one to really stay by her side. It surprises her sometimes to realize that while she does miss Stefan, it's the way she misses Caroline and Bonnie, not the way she'd longed for him during those months after the ritual. Sometimes it seems like she misses Jeremy more than Stefan, and while she loves her little brother more than anyone else, didn't she used to love and miss Stefan that much too? Those are the things she thinks about late at night when no one awake to possibly overhear her emotional mental debates, to wonder if it's really her feelings changing or if it's because she knows that Stefan's feelings will change when he finally knows. What she is, what she's become.

And, while she doesn't agree that Stefan didn't deserve to know, she doesn't disagree with one thing -- he would have felt guilty, and that guilt would have been focused on Stefan, not Damon himself. But what can she say to fix it, to try to heal what was broken so long ago? ]

( Damon, I-- You shouldn't have had to deal with this alone, ever. You should have had someone who loved you to hep you through this. )

❰ You shouldn't have died, he says, matter of fact, eyes boring into hers. when has should ever made a lick of difference, in lives like theirs? life is never fair, particularly not to him, and damon isn't in the business of lamenting that fact. he accepts it, he works around it, he rages until he gets what he wants and the world bends to his whims, but he never whines. he never broods, he doesn't angst. it doesn't do anything. the world will be terrible to him no matter how much he cries about it.

and it goes without saying that no one has ever loved him enough to care. he was missing for five years, and stefan didn't even try to check in. ❱

[ She can't help the flinch at those words, both physical and mental as his had been earlier. Because sometimes... she can forget. Being a vampire feels almost normal now, even if she's still learning what that means and how to survive it, and she misses what it felt like to be human, but what doesn't often come into her thoughts is that she died. Her life ended that night when she went off the bridge for a second time, she drowned the way she should have with her parents, but it didn't end because nothing could be as simple as that in her life.

Her thoughts spiral and she can't stop the way the words sift through her mind, stirring up pain and grief that she can't even try to hide from him. The agony of waking up and realizing that even though she'd been ready to die, she'd made peace with what was happening, she'd been forced to make the choice again and live on like this. The realization that Jeremy had lost everyone now, absolutely everyone, because Alaric--

Alaric. Her eyes widen as she sees where those memories are going and she scrambles to strength the weak shields she has, to push those memories back down so Damon doesn't see, because he doesn't deserve to find out this way. But she's too slow, too worn, and there they are for him. What he was forced to become, the way he was made to hunt and harm them, a broken compilation of what happened with the Mikaelsons, and the memory that when she died, so would he. Alaric was supposed to be able to finally rest, to be free of what they'd done to him, that had been part of why it had been so easy for her to let go and accept what was happening. She wasn't supposed to have to live through grieving for another lost family member. ]

( Damon, I'm sorry. I couldn't--
I didn't know how to tell you. )

[ They'd been friends, despite everything that happened between them, and Damon didn't deserve to lose the few friends he had. She hadn't wanted to hurt him when they might never even make it home. But now there it is, and she's made this conversation about herself and she feels guilty. The same way she feels so guilty for having survived the ritual at all -- because wouldn't so many of their problems never have even happened if she'd just stayed dead that day? ]

❰ elena doesn't generally talk about the things that he missed over those four months she got while he was here. it's impossible for him not to be curious, to try to figure out what happened to her so he can figure out how to help her through it, so when memories start pouring off of her, he doesn't bother to strengthen his shields, watching everything as detached as he can possibly be —

except ric's dead, apparently, and how could he ever detach from that. ric was turned into some ubervamp hunter and died because of it and that's —

damon cuts off all thoughts that even tangentially involve ric, forcing himself onto a different mental path entirely. he's dealt with enough of his own bullshit tonight, and elena's dredging up her own is a good enough distraction as any. more than a distraction, though, it's... he has to get this through her head. it's a small thing, in amongst all her jumbled thoughts, but it's giant to him. ❱

You're an idiot, ❰ he says out loud, only loud enough for her to hear. his tone is both affectionate and harsh, angry but kind.

You think my life would be better if you'd died? Stefan's, Jeremy's? You think you dying would solve anyone's problems but yours?

he remembers seeing her collapsed on that altar of fire and blood, unmoving, the way his heart had stopped and his whole body had gone cold. like hers, his memories rush through the link, but he doesn't even try to shield them from her. she sees it all, his carrying her back to the witch house with numb limbs, trying to tell himself she'd come back human, terrified that she wouldn't come back at all, not even as a vampire. it'd have been a mercy, then, that he was already dying, that he could leave a world without her in it and it wouldn't even have to be his choice. she was, is, will always be everything, and the thought of eternity without her was too horrifying to even consider.

he carried the girl he loved in his arms, dead, and she wants to think his problems would be over if she had stayed that way. for someone so selfless, elena is so incredibly selfish. ❱

[ She'd thought he would focus on what happened to Alaric, react in some way to the devastating news of the loss of someone he'd called a friend, who he'd worked beside and genuinely cared about. But really, she should have known that he would turn his attention to her memories of her deaths, to the times she'd hoped to stay dead, the time she truly regretted that she hadn't. It's almost strange to hear him speak aloud when so much of their conversation has been in their minds, but then--

The words are harsh, calling out the people who mean the most to her in all the world, and she has to wonder if he's right. If Jeremy had lost her that night, he would have still had Alaric, and John, and she knows that Stefan would have looked out for him, and Damon too. The brothers would have carried on as they always have, but things would have been different. Would it be better though?

And then she sees it all from his point of view, the memories like dropping into a lake so icy cold that it shocks the breath right out of her. She'd never known what it was like for the others to see her like that, dead, to wait and hope that the plan would work and she would come back. She'd never felt Damon's emotions in this way, known just how strong and everlasting his love was. Love for her. That's what she latches onto, what she wraps around herself to drown out the terror and the heartache, and it tugs at her own feelings, things she's been trying not think about, choices she'd made that night on the road that seemed right at the time but now...

Elena follows an instinct without thought, listening to her heart without thinking the action through first, and leans in the few inches needed to press her lips to Damon's, nothing in her mind except a memory of how right this felt before and a need to feel that again. ]

❰ he'd expected more of a fight. elena is very attached to her martyrdom, after all, has literally died for it, and the idea that she can't solve every problem by throwing her own body at it like she's jumping on a goddamn grenade is downright antithetical to everything she thinks she believes. she's eighteen goddamn years old, and she was really and truly ready to die before she became a vampire. that thought both terrifies and enrages damon, and he'd far rather be angry than scared —

but elena leans forward and touches her lips to his, and for a moment damon doesn't move at all. his brain just kind of... shorts out, unable to deal with what's happening at the moment. the last time elena kissed him — the only time, because the time before that was katherine — he was dying, and she wanted him to go out with a gift, something to hold onto as he shuffled off this immortal coil. this is... not that. he doesn't know what this is.

it takes a second, but he parts his lips for the kiss, just slightly, just enough to fit their mouths together, and he closes his eyes, and it's —

there aren't words. home comes closest, maybe, but even that is insufficient. everything in damon's head goes quiet, all the anger and the fear and the memories, and he can just... live, in this one beautiful moment.

but it is just one moment, and after it he pulls away, drawing his legs up onto the cot and leaning back so they're not touching anymore.

brother's girl. he won't forget. ❱

Elena, you should go back to sleep.

❰ his voice is rough and low, but insistent. he doesn't want to talk anymore, please don't make him. ❱

[ When he allows the kiss and changes it in that tiny way, it's perfect. Everything she wants and needs in one some action, a single instance in time that buoys her soul and gives her hope for the future that lies stretched out endlessly in front of her. And when he pulls back so firmly, she understands why he does it, of course she does, but it still hurts far more than she ever could have expected. It's like being rejected by someone she lov--

Elena shuts away that pain in her heart, the longing to just stay beside him and feel safe and at peace, and covers everything in her with that deep water. She drowns her emotions so he won't see how torn she is, how completely conflicted, and how much his pulling away makes her want to cry.

She doesn't say anything, just nods after a long moment and stands, looking... lost. Out of place, like a cut flower left lying in the middle of the sidewalk, vibrance fading and wilting away with every passing second. ]

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i like to keep some things to myself

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