Chapter 38 – "The Past Between Us"
The afternoon sunlight gently crept through the tall windows of the Salvatore house, spilling its golden threads across the polished wooden floors. A rare stillness hung in the air—a temporary, almost sacred silence. This house had witnessed blood, wars, death, and resurrection... and now, it was preparing for something new: the end.
Stefan stood by the kitchen, flipping through Bonnie's new list of spell ingredients, preparing for the hunt they were about to undertake. Damon leaned near the fireplace, holding a glass of bourbon, his gaze lost in the distance. Outside on the porch, Alexander sat sharpening a blade that looked as ancient as time itself, yet still gleamed—one of the few weapons that had survived his battles.
Then, the front door opened quietly.
"Hello?" Elena's gentle voice echoed through the house.
Damon's body tensed.
Stefan looked up, his face calm but unreadable. He moved toward the hallway to meet her.
He said with a small smile,
"Elena."
She looked tired—exhausted from guilt, confusion, and the weight of passing days. In her hands, she carried a small basket—some baked goods, tea, and homemade things. Her way of building a bridge between past and present. A silent truce.
She whispered,
"I wasn't sure I should come."
He stepped aside to let her in.
"It's alright… come in."
Her eyes wandered around the hallway as if searching for a ghost, then realized the ghost was no longer a ghost.
"Is he here?" she asked.
"Outside," Stefan nodded, then added,
"But… maybe it's better if you talk to Damon first."
Damon was standing now, the glass still in his hand, untouched. He didn't say anything as Elena stepped into the living room. The silence between them was heavy, charged.
She began,
"You said you wouldn't forgive me… and I… I understand that. Truly. But Alexander is alive now, and I think I came to say…"
Damon cut her off sharply,
"He died."
Elena flinched.
He continued, eyes burning with suppressed rage:
"And I saw him die. For you."
She whispered,
"I didn't ask him to."
He growled,
"You didn't have to. He did it because he knew what you meant to me… and to Stefan. And that alone was enough for him to give his life."
Elena lowered her gaze.
"I came to say thank you. To him. To you. And to try… to talk to you."
He looked at her for a long time. He wasn't angry anymore—but he was empty inside. And that was worse.
He said softly,
"You were never the villain. But that doesn't mean I didn't get hurt."
She nodded, guilt pouring from her features.
"I'm sorry. For everything."
He didn't respond, but he didn't push her away either. And that alone… was progress.
Outside, Alexander paused sharpening his blade when he heard the door open again. Elena stepped out onto the porch, hesitated for a moment, then walked slowly toward him.
"You look different," she said with a pale smile.
He chuckled lightly, eyes still on the blade.
"Death does that to a man."
She smiled faintly.
"I didn't know you well… but thank you, for what you did."
He finally looked up at her. His gaze was piercing, sharp—one of those looks that had once made even Klaus hesitate.
He said simply,
"I didn't do it for you."
She swallowed, and whispered,
"I know."
"I did it for them. My brothers. I hated you, honestly. Still do… a little. You look too much like her."
"Katherine," she said softly.
He nodded.
"But… you're not her. And they loved you. That alone made my death worth it."
She looked down at her feet and whispered,
"That must've taken incredible strength."
He shook his head slowly.
"It was weakness. I let my feelings win. But sometimes… that's not such a bad thing."
Silence settled between them.
Then, Elena smiled—and this time, it was a real smile.
"They missed you."
Alexander tilted his head slightly.
"I missed them too. I didn't even realize it… until I came back."
"And now what?"
He rose to his feet, slid the blade into its sheath, and strapped it to his back.
"Now we hunt. Katherine's still out there. And this time… I won't die so easily."
Elena stepped back as Damon and Stefan appeared behind her, ready.
Damon said, his voice laced with resolve,
"We'll bring hell with her."
Stefan added with a cold tone,
"And we won't stop until she's ash."
A confident smile curved Alexander's lips.
"Let's finish this story."
---
The Next Morning
The morning air was still—too still for a day like this.
Alexander stood just outside the Salvatore house, the first light of dawn glinting softly on his face. The wind brushed against his coat, and he cast a final glance at the place that had held him, tormented him, and then healed him in ways words couldn't describe.
Behind him, Stefan was loading the car, tossing weapons and bags into the trunk with practiced movements. Damon leaned against the porch railing, arms crossed, lost in the kind of silence he only sank into when deep in thought.
But Alexander wasn't looking at them.
He was looking at her.
Elena stood at the door. She had come again that morning, motionless. Her arms wrapped around herself, her expression drawn with worry. But what caught Alexander's attention most were her eyes—red from crying. From memories. From regret.
She hadn't spoken a word since the night before. Since talking to Damon. She had thanked Alexander quietly, her voice trembling with honesty. But Damon had been cold then—colder than she remembered him ever being.
And now, with the moment of departure approaching, Alexander could still feel her pain hanging in the air, like a heavy fog the morning sun couldn't quite burn away.
He exhaled deeply and walked toward Damon.
He said in a quiet voice, without challenge but full of pure tenderness:
"Aren't you going to say goodbye?"
Damon didn't move.
"Why would I?"
"Because you love her."
Damon shot him a sharp look.
"You hated her."
Alexander nodded.
"I did. Still don't trust her much, if I'm being honest. She looks like Katherine…
She's too kind, too tragic. But that day—when Kol had her—I didn't save her because I loved her. I saved her because you and Stefan loved her."
Then he took a breath.
"And love… is worth protecting, even when it's not perfect."
Damon laughed bitterly.
"You died, Alexander. You died. Do you think I can just move on? Live like nothing happened?"
Alexander shook his head.
"No. I don't want you to forget."
Then added in a heavier, yet still gentle tone:
"But I want you to live. Don't carry the weight of my choices like chains around your neck. I made those decisions because I didn't want you to be forced to."
Damon turned his face away.
Alexander continued, voice still calm but sharp as a blade:
"I was angry at her. I blamed her for everything—just like you did. But there… in the moment I was dying… I realized something…"
He turned his gaze toward Elena.
"She didn't ask for this life. She didn't deserve this pain. She was just caught in the tangled fire we were all born into. Just like I was. Just like you."
A long silence followed.
Alexander stepped closer and placed a hand on Damon's shoulder.
"Don't let my death—or my return—be another reason to build walls. Talk to her. Say goodbye. Or don't. But do something, brother. Before the hunt begins. Before we start bleeding again."
Damon exhaled slowly. He said nothing at first. Then finally muttered:
"You're a better man than I am."
Alexander chuckled softly.
"No, I'm not. I'm just a man who died once. And that's enough to change how you see everything."
After a moment, Damon moved away from the porch. His steps weren't fast, but they weren't hesitant either. He crossed the short distance toward Elena, whose eyes widened as she saw him approach.
Alexander turned away, giving them privacy.
He walked over to Stefan, who nodded in quiet acknowledgment. Neither of them said a word. They didn't need to.
Behind them, Damon and Elena stood close, exchanging quiet words and long-suppressed feelings—and finally, allowing some of the pain to be spoken aloud.
It was messy. Complicated. But it was something.
And for now… that was enough.
Alexander cast one last glance at the house—at the place that had somehow become a home—and whispered to himself:
"It's time for the end."
He got into the car beside Stefan. Moments later, Damon joined them.
The hunt had begun… the hunt for Katherine.
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