Elena was exhausted. She'd thought that the constant influx of "survivors" from the Arena would never end. As the survivors continued to appear, she felt herself pushing through exhaustion into a state of mindless, repetitive work. She was grateful that they had so much to do. She didn't want to think about those still in the Arena, or worse, the gnawing feeling of guilt at how grateful she was that no one close to her had been chosen. She didn't think that she could bear watching Damon (or Stefan, or Bonnie, or Caroline), seemingly fighting for their lives, unaware that this was some horribly staged reality show.
"Coffee?" she offered, holding out the half-full pot. "It's fresh. I made it a less than an hour ago."
Christine had just gotten back from a quick visit to check on the girls. They were both fine although Lauren had a million questions and she had to be very careful not to let anything slip. She didn’t need to know what was going on and Christine was grateful for the daycare staff offering to watch the younger children.
She smiled when Elena offered her the pot and took it from her. “Yes please, I could use some. I feel like that’s all that’s keeping me going these days.” Even though no one was physically hurt, there were plenty of emotional injuries so to speak. The ones who had been in several days were the most affected and Christine knew that psych was going to be very busy in the coming weeks. “COS has done some awful things but this is just unreal. Especially making us watch it. I hope they find a way to get the feed shut down soon.”
"I hope so." Morale was low enough with the recent departures and now this. Elena leaned against the counter, sipping her coffee. She needed just a moment before rushing back into the patients, most of whom needed her at her best -- and her best currently functioned on a steady drip of coffee. "I'm sure they've got as many hands on deck as we do. My husband's been on patrol since it started."
“I’m not sure exactly what Chris is doing,” she replied. “He works with the diplomats and I think they’ve been monitoring to see if they can figure out where this is coming from. There is no telling though, this place seems to adapt to whatever it needs to be and we already know that COS can manipulate things any way they see fit.”
"I sometimes wonder if we - Damon and I - made the right decision," she said, softly. It was a question that she often didn't allow herself to voice. She knew that this place needed her, and she'd give it her all until it didn't. "I know he thinks he did, because he's from so much earlier in time than I am… and Stefan's here, so of course we can't leave… But I wish all of this -- I wish it could be different for us all. No one here deserves to be left in an Arena to die."
“No, they don’t and I wish it could be different too but you made the right choice, I think. Whoever brings us here seems to have put a lot of thought into who comes. At home, Chris was dead, I was on my way to tell him about Lauren when he was killed in a terrorist attack,” she paused for a moment and stared into her coffee cup. It still hurt to think about that day and how awful it had been. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at Elena. “It was just the two of us for three and a half years and then I found that coin and here we are and Chris was already here. I didn’t think I would ever see him again and he was a bit surprised to find himself a father of course,” she grinned. “But happy, we got another chance and I’ll always be grateful that we did. Sometimes it feels like we’re not doing much to help the war working in here but we are. Even if no one is hurt or injured, there’s always someone who needs somebody to talk to, someone to just reassure them that they’re okay and that they’ll feel better. You did the right thing even if sometimes it might not feel that way.”
A part of Elena knew Christine was right. Atlantis had chosen those most needed to be here, and it turned out that she fit the description. But another part of her missed home, missed the possibilities of home that weren't present here -- not with Damon a vampire or several years behind her. She sighed, taking a sip of her coffee as she mulled over these thoughts.
"I know it's selfish, but I miss...I miss the possibility of family. I have so much to be grateful for here, but I feel like I'm missing something." Maybe if their future kids had traveled through the portal for Christmas, maybe if she had been able to see it was possible. "I know they need us here, and I wouldn't want Damon to live through what he missed… or to lose his brother." She paused, imperceptibly shaking her head. "Here I am worried about my future and not even appreciating that some of us don't even have a future back home."
“It’s okay. We all forget sometimes. Not everyone has something to go home to but it’s normal to wonder what could be although people say that your life at home is still going along the way it always did, that you don’t really leave it. That’s what people who’ve come back and remembered being here have said. So think of that.” she reached over and squeezed Elena’s hand. “And who knows what the future holds here? We’ve seen how you can never guess what’s around the corner.”
She smiled at Christine. "You're right, of course." Her mood lightened as she said the words, thinking of the possibilities. "If anything can make vampire-human families work, Atlantis does have a better shot at it." She knew that her (possible) children would be there when she returned to Mystic Falls; she had to to focus on what was needed in the here and now. "How is Lauren doing with all of this?"
“Lauren is remarkably resilient,” Christine laughed. “I’m very grateful for Wendy opening up the daycare for the younger children. I didn’t want her to have to see this on television since there seems to be no getting away from it. She’s already had to deal with her father being kidnapped here and that’s plenty. Emily of course has no idea and I’m glad of that.”
"That is good," she agreed. She knew how important it was to separate family from everything that was Atlantis. "Well," she said, setting down her empty cup, "I'd better get back to it before Dr. McCoy is after us."
“Ignore him, I do,” Christine grinned and washed out her cup. “But I’ve known him for years and he’s used to me telling him off but yeah we should get back.”