Elena leaned her head against Damon's shoulder, a copy of Jane Eyre in her lap. She'd read over the same page at least twice now, her mind exhausted from the past few weeks of overtime. It was one of those rare moments in which she savored being human again, in being able to feel the weariness in her hands and feet. There were times that she'd missed being a vampire -- missed being able to help in ways that involved taking the fight to COS. Most times though she didn't miss it. She didn't miss the bloodlust, or the ease with which vampirism drew a person towards acts of passion. Her work at the hospital was important. She was finally starting to map out her life the way that she wanted, not the way that supernatural forces deemed it ought to go.
She was happy here. So, why was it that often she'd begun to miss Mystic Falls? Marking her page, she shut the book and looked up at her husband. "Have you seen Stefan lately?"
Damon lifted his head from where it had been resting against the top of Elena’s head. He’d been dipping in and out of the book as she’d been reading, scanning a few paragraphs at a time every few minutes, before drifting off into his own thoughts again. However, he’d noticed that she hadn’t turned the page for a while - he’d recognised the same words the last few times he’d glanced down - so he was hardly surprised when she closed the book and looked up at him. What did take him aback was her question.
It was impossible to deny that he and Stefan had been in a strange place for a little while. There was a weird dynamic between them, born out of Damon’s trip into his worst nightmare which had been followed soon after by Stefan’s spiral into bloodlust as a strigoi. Although Stefan was back to his normal, boring self, the incidents had put a distance between the brothers that hadn’t been there when they’d first arrived in Atlantis.
“No,” Damon replied, turning his head a little to look down at Elena out of the corner of his eyes. “Why?”
Elena didn't have an immediate answer to that question. She had grown used to a world in which Stefan had embraced his humanity and died (not that she'd been awake for any of that). This one -- where Stefan seemed to have gone from vampire to human and back again -- had been meant to be their second chance at...something. At a life unknowable to them in Mystic Falls? She didn't know exactly, but she didn't think it was going as they had planned back at Christmas.
"I wondered how he was doing, now that everything's back to normal… or as normal as it gets in Atlantis." She set her book down on the coffee table, reaching to take Damon's hand into hers. "I keep thinking we'll wake up, and this war will be over, and we'll be able to live out our lives as we were meant to." She smiled softly, trying to lighten the mood her words. "I guess I didn't expect all the kidnapping, nightmarish landscapes when we agreed to stay here?"
Damon looked down at his hand as Elena took hold of it, enjoying the feel of her fingers against his skin, even though her words were troubling. He hated Elena being in danger, especially danger that he felt powerless to stop. His one consolation was that Medical had been so busy during the most recent chaos that he’d been fairly sure she’d be safe there, surrounded by people.
“Do you regret it?” he asked, lowering his eyes to peer down at her. “Agreeing to stay?”
"No," said Elena, meeting his gaze. "We're happy here, aren't we?" It was uncharacteristic for her to be so hesitant in voicing her thoughts. She didn't regret choosing Atlantis; she merely regretted that she could not have both -- this world and her own, in the same place. She traced her fingers against his palm, taking a beat to collect her thoughts. "I am happy here, but I do miss home. I miss -"
She wasn't about to say that she missed his being human. That was his choice, not hers. Besides, wasn't he safer here as a vampire?
Damon’s brow furrowed. He knew what it was that she wasn’t saying. They’d discussed the issue numerous times before. Or, more like, she’d discussed the issue and he’d told her all the reasons why it was such a bad idea for him to even think about becoming human here in Atlantis, even if it was ever possible. Every time some new kind of weird shit started going down, it reminded him of how dangerous this place was. It may seem like some kind of holiday sometimes but they were here to fight, and win, a war.
Still, he wasn’t completely oblivious to the sense of loss she was feeling. She’d come from a time when they’d had their whole human lives ahead of them. They’d been planning to have a family, Elena had her career, they had a home together and, by choosing to stay here with him and help out in Medical, she’d had to walk away from all that.
Damon’s arms tightened around her and he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head.
“This is not forever,” he murmured against her silky smooth, chocolate brown hair. “We will win this war and, when we do, you and I will be free to live our lives exactly as you’ve told me we will.” He didn’t need to add that if they didn’t win, their future back at home would be lost forever in the carnage wreaked by COS. That thought had been high on the short list of reasons why he’d agreed to stay and fight in the first place.
"I know." She leaned into him. She knew he was right. That they needed to be here was a given, one that she hesitated to question. But she knew, too, what she wanted from life. She knew that it was waiting for her back home, if they had a home to go to. If COS lost. If the war ended. She sighed, pressing herself closer to her husband. "I don't mind being here, but the Arena was awful. It reminded me of everything that we've been through already. I don't want to see you on live TV...I can't imagine what Hope went through, being the last to survive like that."
Damon sighed and lifted a hand to stroke Elena’s hair. He wanted to be reassuring, tell her that they were both going to be alright, but the truth was that the Arena had bothered him too, especially the fact that Hope had been trapped there. He liked the kid, much more than he liked his “niece” or her annoying little friends. She had something about her which he identified with.
“You can feel completely confident in the knowledge that I don’t intend to let COS kidnap me any time soon,” he told her, trying to make light of the situation. He knew that none of the people who’d been trapped in the Arena had a choice in the matter, or the opportunity to fight back for that matter, but he didn’t see the point in worrying about something that may or may not happen. All he could do was fight whoever needed to be fought and savour every day he had with Elena in the meantime.
“Come on,” he said suddenly, shifting out from under her and reaching out to pull her to her feet. “I’m cooking you dinner. I hope you’re in the mood for pancakes.”
Elena allowed herself to be pulled to her feet, a small smile on her face. Leave it to Damon to make light of something serious and succeed. She liked that about him, more than she had realized when they'd been trying to make this work. Back when things like Hunger Games-style arenas were more their normal.
"That depends. Will there be strawberries?"
“And chocolate chips,” Damon promised, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. He looked into her big, dark eyes for a moment before dipping his head to press a kiss to her lips.