Just A Game

Summary: After Elijah, believing Elena to be dead, flees Mystic Falls to begin another life elsewhere, Elena awakes to find him gone. They both go on with their lives without the other, until Elijah receives word that Kol has been killed at the hands of none other than Jeremy Gilbert.

Rating: T

Time Period: 3x22 through season 4

Pairings: Elena x Elijah

Image Credit: Olivia (thecunningcock on tumblr) made this absolutely gorgeous graphic for me!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries, its characters, or any of the music from which I derive inspiration. All rights go to Julie Plec, L.J. Smith, and the respective artists and their labels.

Chapter 1 – Tears I Must Conceal

I don't know where I am

I don't know this place

Don't recognize anybody

Just the same old empty face

See, these people, they lie

And I don't know

Who to believe

Anymore

~ Just A Game – Birdy

"Elijah," came a voice from behind him and to the left. It sounded cloudy, far away. "Elijah," it said again. The fog in his mind lifted slightly, but his legs buckled beneath him. The world swayed, becoming more and more vertical until he felt a pair of delicate arms catch him. His surroundings dimmed as he was lowered to the ground, and he saw blonde hair from the corner of his eye. Something stirred within him. This was her fault.

He sat up, pulling himself out of her grasp. He stood and, taking care to brush off his suit before raising his eyes to his sister's, felt a swell of emotion. He couldn't discern all the different feelings sweeping through him; it was all happening so fast.

He should have told her how he felt when he had the chance. A chance that he hadn't thought would have been so fleeting, so brief. His world without this girl, this one human girl, was darker than it had ever been. He had loved her, loved her deeply and truly. And it had all been taken away by an impulsive decision by his sister.

He looked at Rebekah's face, colored with fear, grief, and vengeance. It was a mixture he saw all too often. When she was afraid, when she was sad, she would seek revenge. And sometimes there was honor in revenge, but when she took it to such extremes, there was never a good outcome. And now, here he was, facing her. He wasn't even disappointed. There was no room for disappointment in addition to what he was already feeling. He wasn't Niklaus, though. He wouldn't dagger her. He would let her suffer, knowing what she did to him. Maybe she would even feel remorse, because he knew that he wouldn't be able to stand seeing her face for years, maybe decades. There were times when he could tell that she knew about his love for the brunette girl. How could she not when he spent his first months in Mystic Falls making deals to protect her? And yet, she had still murdered her. Of course, there wasn't a lack of motivation for doing so, but murder was beyond unnecessary. He didn't even know how she did it. He had just heard the words and the whole world had swayed.

"Elijah, I'm so –" she began, but he cut her off.

"Don't lie," he spat at her. "I know you're happy she's dead. You're glad you killed her." His voice was deadly and quiet. It was the calm before the storm.

"I'm not lying, Elijah. I never wanted to hurt you," she insisted, emotion evident in her voice.

"You had no right, Rebekah! NO RIGHT! She was an INNOCENT!" Elijah screamed, fists clenched.

Tears began falling from Rebekah's eyes, rolling down her cheeks and leaving tracks. "I know I shouldn't have –"

"Shouldn't have? Do you even realize what you've done?" Elijah laughed incredulously. At the same time he did so, his lip quivered and a strangled sob cut through the silence. After a moment of attempting to compose himself, he spoke again. "I am not your brother," he breathed, his voice nothing more than a whisper, "and you are not my sister." He turned and ghosted out of the woods, with nothing but an "Elijah!" echoing behind him.

The moment that Elijah turned and fled Mystic Falls was the moment that Elena sat up, gasping for air. Immediately, Stefan and Matt surrounded her, and her eyes flicked wildly between them. She had no idea what had happened to her – her mind was fuzzy and her thoughts choppy and irrational. She remembered earlier in the evening, when the eldest Mikaelson had paid a visit. Despite her initial shock, she had been glad to see him, had enjoyed their negotiations. They had made some sort of deal – one she couldn't quite remember. And now, here she was, lying on the grass at the foot of Wickery Bridge, wet and freezing, with Stefan and Matt looking at her with pitying eyes. She closed her eyes again and everything went black.

"No," Damon choked out, "you are not dead!" He held Alaric's lifeless body in his arms, and tears rolled down his cheeks. The look of panic on Alaric's face told Damon exactly what had happened. There was no hope for Alaric. Even worse was that there was no hope for the girl he loved. She was gone. This was worse than when he had thought Katherine dead. He had loved her, it was true, but he hadn't felt a fraction with Katherine of what he felt now for Elena. Elena, who would never live again.

"Jeremy," came a soft, deep voice from behind the young man. Jeremy turned to see Alaric standing in the doorway.

"Haven't you done enough?" he asked angrily. "And how did you even get in here?" He had to constantly remind himself that this Alaric wasn't the Ric he used to know. He was an evil killing machine. There was a pause until Alaric spoke again.

"I don't know. I just wanted to say goodbye, and it kind of happened," Ric replied sadly.

Jeremy's eyes narrowed for a moment before widening with sudden realization. "Ric?" he asked incredulously. After all, this wasn't possible.

Ric smiled and moved forward. "I just want you to know that I'll always be here to look after you, Jeremy. That you'll never be alone. Okay? I promise."

"I don't understand. . .," Jeremy breathed.

Ric gave a slight, knowing nod, and Jeremy pieced it all together. "Oh my god, you're a ghost!" Then panic set in. "If you're here, that means. . ."

All Ric had to do was give a sad smile and Jeremy knew that it was real, that this was happening. His sister was dead.

After locating his car in a confused, emotional haze, Elijah got in, and with nothing but the clothes on his back, he left Mystic Falls behind in a cloud of dust. He needed to leave. He should never have come back. In doing so, he had only given himself permission to see her again. Seeing her face had only strengthened the feelings he had for her. It had been unwise. But perhaps it was good that he'd come back, in some sick, twisted way. He had gotten to see her, talk with her before she'd . . . died. He couldn't even think the word without some hesitation.

Damn Rebekah, with her unquenchable thirst for vengeance. Normally, Elijah would have been above holding someone else at fault, but this was clearly done at Rebekah's hand. It was an unnecessary reaction to something that was out of their control. Of course, he mourned the loss of his brother, but he hadn't gone out and murdered one of the Salvatores. No, he had grieved with his sister until she had fled, leaving him to only guess where she had gone.

When she had come back and delivered the news of Elena's death, the whole world had seemed to fall down around him. Every moment he'd spent with her, every injustice he'd committed against her, everything was an added weight on his shoulders, and there were moments when he wasn't sure he could stand the feeling any longer. This was different that Tatia, than Katerina. He had loved them both, but neither of them were like Elena. Elena was a kind, compassionate, good-hearted young woman. She never acted in her own self-interest, always finding ways to save those she loved, even if it meant sacrificing herself. It was the Salvatores that had ruined her. When he had offered her the elixir that would save her life during the sacrifice, the eldest brother had had to step in and force his blood down her throat. Though Elijah's solution had been much more simple, Damon hadn't been wise enough to trust him. Of course, the Salvatores had no idea as to Elijah's feelings for the young woman. There was no way he would have let her die. She was already, even at that time, much too precious to him. . .

He needed to stop thinking about it, about her. It would drive him mad. Instead, he tried to focus on the road in front of him. Concentrating much harder than necessary on the act of driving, he found himself in New York City by mid-morning. Even though he had been concentrating, it was only natural to him to pay no mind to the speed limit signs. When he hit the traffic from residents of the bustling city traveling to work, he was jolted out of his intense concentration. When he realized where he was, there was a moment of confusion, and one of revelation. He had given his mind a break the entire way to New York, but now that he was out of his stupor, everything came rushing back, and this time, it was sinking in.

Quickly, he found a hotel, checked in, and went straight to his room, earning suspicious looks for his lack of luggage. Ignoring the questioning glances he received, he slid his key into the slot and his door unlocked. He pushed it open and slid inside, shutting the door right behind him. He made his way to the bed in the next room and, without even taking care to take off his suit jacket, laid down and drifted off into a restless, nightmare-filled sleep.

Elena woke in her bed, warm and dry, and sunlight was streaming in through the open windows. The first thing she registered was that she was not alone. She could feel the distinct presence of others in her room, but the sun was so blinding that she couldn't open her eyes far enough to see.

"What's going on?" she asked, her voice still riddled with sleep. As soon as she spoke, the shades were drawn and she could finally see. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness, but it was much more comfortable than the blinding sunlight. "Stefan?" she asked, but no one came forward. Once her eyes had adjusted, she saw Stefan sitting on her window seat, face turned downward. Damon was beside him, standing against the wall looking angrier than she had ever seen him. "What's happening?" she asked again.

"Why don't you ask Saint Stefan over here and his sidekick Boy Wonder?" Damon spat.

Who was Damon referring to? And suddenly Elena realized. "Where's Matt? Is he okay?"

"Matt's fine." This time it was Stefan who spoke. His voice was nothing more than a whisper, and he sounded exhausted.

"Then what's the problem?" Elena asked in confusion.

Damon took a step forward. "Stefan saved Matt." He put heavy emphasis on each word, watching Elena to see whether or not he would have to actually spell it out.

"I . . . Stefan saved Matt, not me." It wasn't a question. She was simply stating a fact as the actuality of what had happened began to crash down upon her. "Why am I not dead?" she asked in a small voice, though she already knew the answer.

"Doctor –"

"Fell," Elena whispered, finishing Damon's sentence. "She gave me blood to heal me. Oh my god. . ." She pulled her knees to her chest and began to sob.

"Elena, I'm –"

She cut Stefan off. "Please, just go. Both of you."

Damon piped up right away. "I'll be damned if I'm leaving you alone. You either feed or you die, Elena. There's no way around it."

Through her tears, Elena shook her head insistently. "I never wanted this. I never wanted to be a vampire."

Stefan put his face in his hands. "Elena," he said through his fingers, "I am so sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Stefan. You did what I asked. You respected my decision."

"A decision that wouldn't have been necessary if I would have been there!" Damon hissed.

"Exactly!" cried Elena, tears streaming down her face. "If you had been there, Matt would've died because you can't let me make my own decisions!"

"And you wouldn't be a vampire!"

The entire room went silent until Elena whispered, "I want you both to leave."

When Damon showed signs of argument, she turned her head away from him. "Go. I'm done."

Damon stormed out of the room and Elena heard him in the kitchen, no doubt washing dishes or scrubbing something. Stefan didn't leave right away, hoping that Elena might talk to him, but she continued staring at the opposite wall with her chin on her knees, crying silently. Eventually, he got up and left, standing in the doorway for just a moment longer than normal. He then shut the door behind him and Elena curled up into a ball under her covers and cried.

A/N: So that's chapter one! I really love reviews/feedback, so if you could tell me what you thought, that would be great! I tried to keep everyone in character as well as possible. I'm really excited about this fic!