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. ❱
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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[ 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. ]
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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. ❱
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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. ]
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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. ❱
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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. ]
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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. ❱
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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. )
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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. ❱
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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? ]
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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. ❱
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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. ]
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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. ❱
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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. ]