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The Vampire Diaries Fic: Speaking a Dead Language
Damon/Elena BnW

Title: Speaking a Dead Language (1/1)
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries (tv show, not book)
Characters: Damon Salvatore, Elena Gilbert
Rating: K
Words: 400
Spoilers: Through 2x8
The Vampire Diaries and its characters belong to the CW, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: His lips against her forehead are a benediction... A tag for the final Damon/Elena scene in 2x8.
A/N: This came out of my being sick and unable to sleep. Con crit is always welcome. To lurkers and commenters alike, thank you.

Feel free to friend for updates. If you'd like me to add you back, please say something; I don't bite. :)  Plus I have very few TVD-watching friends here, so I would love to have more.


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Speaking a Dead Language

For a breathless moment Damon wavers, his resolve flickering like a flame kissed by an unexpected gust of wind. Elena's watching him with those eyes; those eyes that shadow his every waking and dreaming move. They search his face, and he swears they scythe through the thin veneer of all his mocking bravado and swagger - to see inside him, where he never thought he'd want to be seen. To be known.

What he sees in her face isn't disappointment. Not fear or revulsion, either. Shoulders slumped, he asks himself if he has to do this. Does he always have to be the one who loses? He isn't good; that's not who he is, and it's not what he does. Why can't he just take what he wants, and to hell with everyone else?

"I'm sorry. What I did was selfish. I didn't want to be alone. Guess I just needed my brother."

An apology. An admission he simply can't ignore. The memory straightens his spine and shoulders. Gives weight to his decision. He's spent 145 years trying to make his brother miserable; he won't do it now, or make his own feelings another burden for Elena to carry.

But this girl-woman has her slim fingers wrapped around the chambers of his dark heart. He needs her to know that.

And then he needs to wipe the memory from her mind, making her knowledge that he loves her nothing more than a puff of moist breath against a cold windowpane; visible for mere seconds before it fades into oblivion. A ghost.

It's time; he can't delay it any longer.

His lips against her forehead are a benediction, and he closes his eyes, trying to freeze the moment in his mind. As if memory could ever replace soft flesh and warm blood. "God, I wish you didn't have to forget this. But you do."

And then he looks into her eyes one last time. It's done.

The yawning emptiness in Damon's chest reminds him precisely why he spent so many years destroying, running, hiding. Caring, doing the right thing, it hurts.

As he leaves Elena's bedroom, he sees Stefan's face in his mind's eye. Whatever he's lost tonight, he's also regained something: his brother. He hopes it's enough.

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*mwah* I firmly believe he was trying to look out for both Stefan and Elena in that scene. Without question, he's done some horrible things to people, but I can't help but "buy" IS' portrayal of Damon as a vamp in progress -- and in love. There is definitely a part of me that feels a little guilty about how much I love him and D/E, but then I just take a deep breath and remind myself it's fiction, and I don't condone the pain he's inflicted on people. Nor am I trying to be Damon apologist. I just like the character, and I like the 'ship. :) He fits the "bad boy" archetype, and I find the idea of him trying to be a better man (vamp) relentlessly appealing. It's the journey, I think, that makes him so interesting -- at least to me.

You MUST write your fic. I have really long writing dry spells. I think I'm a slow writer and a pretty average one. Add a 21-month-old to the mix, and it's a mess. *g* I drive myself insane by second-guessing everything I DO actually manage to get out. Then there are the moments when I read someone else's fic, discover the person is like, 13 years old, and writes in a way I won't be able to write even when I'm 90. :P

But sometimes I find it helpful to stay up a little later, cram in some writing when M. naps, and just get something out; to release it into the world and accept that it's not the length and polished opus I had hoped it would be, but damn it, I WROTE something instead of just THINKING about writing, and someone besides me read it. None of this is to imply that YOU have any writerly neuroses, though. I'm just babbling. Which seems to be a bad habit when I talk to you. ;)

BTW, that song is PERFECT for them. The singer's voice is very similar to Mat Kearney's. Do you know of Erin McCarley? She did the backing vocals on In My Veins, and she sings a gorgeous song called Pitter-Pat. If you haven't heard it, I'm sure it's up on my Youtube.

I need to put together a Damon/Elena playlist. Can you tell I'm completely obsessed?

Um, did I say thank you for reading and feeding? :D

You never have to thank me for reading. And as a writer, I know what a boost the feeding can be, too. Um, if you feel inclined to make a playlist, let me beg you nicely to do just that - have I told you how your Bones mix (and then the Booth-specific one) helped me get going on the ... ahem ... Bones fic I never finished?

I do what you mean - sometimes you just have to put SOMETHING out. I started reposting old work in hopes that it'd spur something new.

Also, this is not me giving false praise: you're not an average writer. Your characterizations are so dead-on that it stuns me, and you have a gift for language. So there. ;-)

And yes, yes, I'm going to write it. I kind of have to.

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