Phantom

"This is where we met," said Damon, who she now realized was sitting beside her, so close the sleeve of his leather jacket brushed her arm.

"Romantic," Elena replied, raising one eyebrow and looking around the big empty room, the basketbal hoops hanging at each end.

"I try," Damon said, a tinge of a laugh coloring his dry voice. "But you chose where we are. It’s your dream."

"Is it a dream?" Elena asked suddenly, turning to study his face. "It doesn’t feel like one."

"Wel ," he said, "let me put it this way. We’re not actual y here." His face was serious and intent as he gazed back at her, but then he flashed one of his sudden, bril iant smiles and his eyes slid away. "I’m glad we didn’t have gymnasiums like this when I did my studies," he said casual y, stretching out his legs in front of him. "It seems so undignified, with the shorts and the rubber bal s."

"Stefan said that you played sports then, though," Elena said, distracted despite herself. Damon frowned at Stefan’s name.

"Never mind," she said hastily. "We might not have much time. Please, Damon, please, you said you’re not here, but are you anywhere? Are you al right? Even if you’re dead… I mean real y dead, dead for good, are you somewhere?"

He looked at her sharply. His mouth twisted a little as he said, "Does it matter that much to you, princess?"

"Of course it does," Elena said, shocked. Her eyes were fil ing with tears.

His tone was light, but his eyes, so black she couldn’t tel where the iris ended and the pupil began, were watchful.

"Everyone else – al your friends – this town – they’re al okay, though, aren’t they? You have your world back. There are such things as col ateral damages you have to expect if you’re going to get what you want."

Elena could tel from Damon’s expression that what she said next would matter dreadful y. And, in her heart of hearts, hadn’t she admitted to herself the other day that, as much as she loved Damon, things were better now, that everything could be good again with the town saved and her returned to her old life? And that she wanted it that way, even if it meant Damon was dead? That Damon was what he said: collateral damage?

"Oh, Damon," she said at last, helplessly. "I just miss you so much."

Damon’s face softened and he reached for her. "Elena

– "

"Yes?" Elena murmured.

"Elena?" A hand was gently shaking her. "Elena?"

Someone stroked her hair, and Elena nuzzled sleepily into the touch.

"Damon?" she said, stil half dreaming.

The hand paused in its stroking and then withdrew. She opened her eyes.

"Just me, I’m afraid," said Stefan. He was sitting next to her on her bed, his mouth a straight, tight line, his eyes averted.

"Oh, Stefan," said Elena, sitting up and throwing her arms around him. "I didn’t mean – "

"It’s al right," Stefan said flatly, turning away from her. "I know what he meant to you."

Elena pul ed him toward her and looked up into his face.

"Stefan. Stefan." His green eyes had a distant expression.

"I’m sorry," she said pleadingly.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Elena," he said.

"Stefan, I was dreaming about Damon," she confessed.

"You’re right, Damon was important to me, and I… miss him." A muscle twitched at the side of Stefan’s face, and she stroked his jaw. "I wil never love anyone more than I love you, Stefan. It would be impossible. Stefan," she said, feeling like she might cry, "you’re my true love, you know that." If only she could reach out and show him with her mind, make him understand what she felt for him. She’d never ful y explored her other Powers, never ful y claimed them, but losing their telepathic connection felt like it might kil her.

Stefan’s expression softened. "Oh, Elena," he said slowly, and wrapped his arms around her. "I miss Damon, too." He buried his face in her hair and his next words were muffled. "I’ve spent hundreds of years fighting with my only brother, with us hating each other. We killed each other when we were human, and I don’t think either of us ever got over the guilt and the shock, the horror of that moment." She felt a long shudder go through his body.

He sighed, a soft, sad sound. "And when we final y started to find our way back to being brothers again, it was al because of you." His forehead stil resting on her shoulder, Stefan took Elena’s hand and held it between both of his, turning it over and stroking it as he thought. "He died so suddenly. I guess I never expected… I never expected Damon to die before I did. He was always the strong one, the one who truly loved life. I feel…" He smiled a little, just a sad twist of his lips. "I feel… surprisingly lonely without him."

Elena entwined her fingers with Stefan’s and held his hand tightly. He turned his face toward hers, meeting her eyes, and she pul ed back a little so she could see him more clearly. There was pain in his eyes, and grief, but there was also a hardness she had never seen there before.

She kissed him, trying to erase that hard edge. He resisted her for half a second, and then he kissed her back.

"Oh, Elena," he said thickly, and kissed her again. As the kiss deepened, Elena felt a sweet, satisfying sense of rightness sweep through her. It was always like this: If she felt distanced from Stefan, the touch of their lips could unite them. She felt a wave of love and wonder from him, and held on to it, feeding the emotion back to him, the tenderness between them growing. With her Powers gone, she needed this more than ever.