A/N: Hi everyone. I know this is like, super duper late, but I've been in New Orleans until Friday, so I finally got around to writing it. It's not very long, but it's the last chapter and I couldn't think of anything that needed to be added to it. That and I just really wanted to update. I wrote and rewrote the ending line dozens of times, and finally this one satisfied me. I hope it satisfies you too :) I can't thank everyone enough for the reviews and story-alerts, story-favorites and author alerts/favorites. They make me smile everytime I get them. I tried to reply to all reviews I got for the last chapter, but for the Guests, I thank you for the incredibily kind things you said, they made my day! And also, I'm sorry if the events that happen in this do not match up to the show's episodes this season. I've only managed to catch a few of them, so I'm not really up to date. Anyways, enjoy the last chapter and tell me what you think. The title of this fic is from The Sun Also Rises, I think the quote was on the last chapter. I own nothing.

"They're only dangerous when they're alone" -Ernest Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises

"If the wind rises it can push us against the flood when it comes."
- Ernest Hemingway, Islands in the Stream

Gradually, then Suddenly

Coming into consciousness was an odd thing as a vampire. Whether it's from sleep or, in my case, a vervain-gas induced coma. What a mouthful.

First, sounds slowly start enter my head. I can hear birds chirping outside, branches rustling in the Virginia wind, someone shuffling around downstairs, glasses clinking together, a clock ticking. Then comes scent, the smell of dusty books waft under my nose. I vaguely remember Damon complaining that Stefan is incapable of picking up a bottle of Windex, and the memory brings an unconscious smile to my lips.

I hear someone walk closer, the smell of roses and something sweet telling me that this person was no threat. The bed I'm laying on creaks under me. "Elena?"

My eyes snap open, the floating dust mites temporarily clouding my vision until I blink and see Caroline's face hovering over me. Relief sets into her blue eyes as she realizes that I'm awake.

I struggle to sit up, noting how heavy my body feels. "Caroline? What happened?" I ask, clearing my throat. Looking around, I see the familiar trinkets and oak furniture and realize I'm in Stefan's room.

"We killed Connor. Well, I killed Connor." She corrects, and I can tell she's unnerved about it. She looks down at her hands, as if seeing them as someone else's. "Right before he was about to kill you."

Everything comes rushing back at a startlingly pace. The cellar, the camera, the vervain gas bomb. Damon.

Damon.

I struggle to block out the memories that want to make their way into my head; his skin against mine, his lips bruising my own, sapphire eyes hovering over me. I push them down and promise them that they can come back later, when I'm alone and can think.

"Is…?"

Caroline doesn't need me to finish, she looks at me understandingly. "Damon's fine. He's downstairs with Stefan."

Stefan.

Shit.

Caroline looks me over, as if she knows exactly what I'm thinking. She smiles at me tightly, "When we carried you out of there, Damon's shirt was missing buttons and the snap on your jeans were gone."

I grimace and look down at what I'm wearing, noticing that I'm in a pair of flannel pajama pants and the white camisole that I leave here just in case. Suddenly I find the embroidery on the curtains behind Caroline very interesting.

"And then there was the camera." She whispers, and my eyes snap to hers, horrified.

"Stefan didn't…?" I trail off, my horror clearly in my voice.

Caroline averts her eyes, "Something like that."

"Oh my god." I groan, burying my face in my hands. Stefan saw me and… he saw Damon and I… with his brother… Oh. God.

Caroline's grimace tells me exactly what she thinks about it. Hell, she's probably more disgusted than I am. "I'm not going to patronize you." She says, and it looks like it takes her a great deal to reach out and touch my arm. "But I thought it better that you find out from me instead of Stefan."

I push a piece of matted hair behind my ear and nod at her thankfully. She cocks her head at me curiously. "So what are you going to do?"

I sigh and push Stefan's covers off of me, and wonder why he put me here in the first place, after what he saw. "The only thing I can do." I answer as I swing my legs off the mattress.

A shower and a blood bag later, I finally manage the courage to walk downstairs. On my way, I notice Damon's door is closed, meaning he's holed up in there. My feet beg me to take them there, but I force myself to keep walking. He's pit stop two, Stefan is first.

I find Stefan in the study, the bourbon glass in his hand telling me more than it should. The only time Stefan ever drinks is when he's in Ripper mode or when his inner turmoil is caused by something that involves me and Damon.

I hover in the doorway, waiting for him to make the first move. I know it's cowardly, but honestly I didn't think the conversation would come this soon. Obviously I knew it would it eventually, but I had expected a few more months of pretending with Stefan.

Hoping that he isn't drunk, I step hesitantly in the room. I've never really been too sure of Drunk Stefan. I was overly used to drunk, distraught Damon. I knew drunk, touchy-feely Damon more than I knew myself. I'd never really been around drunken Stefan much.

I curse myself once again for thinking of Damon too much and clear my throat. Stefan turns around and I hold back a sigh of relief when I see his familiar, thoughtful face. His eyebrows are drawn together and his arms are crossed, and I ignore the pang in my chest when I realize how closed off he is. The guilt, the guilt that I've been waiting and waiting for to hit finally reaches home and I swallow it down like bile, hoping it won't make its way out my chest and onto Damon's prized Persian rug.

"I guess this talk's been delayed for awhile." Stefan says, and I nod in understanding. It certainly has.

"Stefan…"

"You don't need to say it." He interrupts, knuckles turning white around the crystal tumbler. I watch it, expecting it to shatter, just like Stefan's calm demeanor. Then I remember exploding is Damon's thing.

"I saw the camera. I saw you and my brother lying on a bed together, naked. We really don't need to talk about it."

So he didn't see us actually having sex; a small blessing. Shame colors my cheeks anyways, more for the fact that Stefan saw it rather than that I did it.

I nod, agreeing that that little chat really does not need to happen. Some things are better left unsaid.

"Stefan… I thought that I'd die in there. We both did. It-"

"Elena, don't. Don't make excuses, we both know it was more than that. It's always been more with him."

I look down, knowing he's right. "I know." I confirm.

He cuts to the chase, looking like he's itching to be anywhere else. "And I can't do this anymore." He says slowly. "I won't."

I let out a long sigh, finally looking up to meet his eyes. "I know." I repeat.

He nods at me and sets his drink down. Walking past me, he pauses by the doorway. "I'm going to go for awhile, I'm sure you can understand why." He says, and gives me a last look. "But I'll be back, eventually."

I nod at him, unable to find words and watch him to walk to the door. When he opens it, I see Caroline standing on the other side, waiting. Jealousy doesn't come like I expect, instead I feel relief. Relief that she'll be there for him; Caroline was always good at that.

When the door closes, the sound echoing in the eerily silent house, my feet carry me over to Stefan's unfinished drink and I down it in a single gulp. The liquid burns through my lungs and gives me courage, slowly but surely.

Damon is walking out the shower when I let myself into his room, shirt open and hair wet. Typical.

I sit on his bed as he towel dries his hair, looking past me and out the window. It's strange; how nonchalant the air is. If the breakup with Stefan was heavy, I expected this to be even heavier. But things feel easy, light. I don't why I expected any different, things are always easy with Damon. Well, most of the time.

"Stefan left." I say, voice betraying nothing. I feel his eyes turn on me, observing my expression.

"And?" he asks.

"And… Caroline is with him. I think he'll be okay."

Damon grimaces, and I can clearly tell that he didn't want his brother to leave. That's the thing with Damon, when he loves people; he loves them so completely that he'd do anything to keep them, even if it means he won't be involved.

"So did I miss the whole sobbing, tragic break up again? Or was that a different story?" he asks, throwing the now damp towel in a laundry basket. I notice idly that his curls are gone.

"Do you see me sobbing?" I ask, looking forward. I probably should be sobbing, I should probably be crying in Jeremy or Matt or Bonnie's arms right now. Instead I feel numb, blank. Lighter. Like a huge weight has been lifted off my chest, like it's hovering somewhere above me instead of directly on top of me. Honestly, it's a relief.

"No, I don't. And that worries me." He replies, bringing his hands up to button his shirt. I stand up and walk over to him, stopping his hands before they can. He stares at me as I step closer, like I'm doing something incredibly strange to him.

"It shouldn't. You should be doing back flips right about now." I say, closing my hands around his.

He narrows his eyes. "Why?"

"Because-" I pause, unable to find words. Instead I close the distance between us and press my lips against his. He freezes for a moment, before he goes lax and starts to move. This is what I've wanted since I woke up, his arms around me and his mouth moving against mine. Feeling rushes through me and our kiss becomes frenzied, fingers in hair and suddenly my back is on the thankfully much larger bed. I push his shirt off and he pulls my pants off and this time, it's paced and although not exactly slow, there's a certain feel to it that tells me this will be the first of many were we have all the time in the world. We get lost under the covers as our breath becomes one and our moans make the air stuffy and we both laugh when my legs get constricted in the sheets and the laughs turn into groans when he hits the right spot and we both come like that, together.

He rolls off me, and our labored breath evens out as we stay under the sheets, the opaque cloth filtering the sunlight and creating a surreal glow on our skin. He pulls me into him and we lay there peacefully, the silence of the mid-morning settling over us.

"If I'd know that getting trapped in a room with you would do this I'd have gotten caught a long time ago." Damon mumbles, and I feel his smirk against my hair.

"Ugh, how'd I know you'd say that?" I ask, rolling my eyes at his typically-Damon comment. "You couldn't just let us have one sweet moment before you ruined it?" I ask playfully.

"Have you met me?" he asks, hand running over my backside in a mock lewd way. I guffaw at him, slapping his hand away.

I want to slap the smirk off his face, but instead I kiss it away because I can.

The End?