Post 3x22. Elena is now a vampire, but being the last Petrova doppelganger has its unknown, cursed consequences. 25 years later, only one Salvatore is willing to go that far to save her from herself and her newfound murderous tendencies.

AN: This is directly post 3x22 of the television series, so if you haven't caught up on the show, there will be spoilers! This is also probably the only chapter that will fully be in present time- everything else will be about the future. Thank you for reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries (TV show or books), so no copyright infringement is intended.

Bloodstreaks
Chapter 1: Consumed

He knew that after 171 years, he should have learnt to have better control over his temper. He knew that everyone was expecting him to have matured, gotten a better grasp over his emotions, aged like fine wine, all that jazz. But this time, above all times, he felt that he had all the right in the world to chop someone's fucking head off.

Because this time, it was Elena.

He was not gentle when he brushed off Dr. Meredith Fell and burst through another set of sterile looking double doors that led him towards the morgue. He had processed what the kind doctor had said but he did not care. It didn't change anything really.

Little bro had still screwed up.

"Damon," a familiar, solemn voice reached his ears before he was even in the room- the room where her body lay. He was pretty sure he was seeing red now.

One glimpse at the table where her cold body remained lifeless and unmoving was all it took for him to vampire-speed towards Stefan, who had gotten up from his seat next to her still form, looking unsurprised to see him. In a second, Damon had thrown his anguished little brother up against the opposite wall, not surprised that Stefan wasn't defending himself.

If he knew his little brother, he was obviously drowning in a whole pool of guilt, self-loathing, and all things Stefan.

But he didn't care. He was just so angry.

The blind rage led the two brothers in a toss and tumble war that lasted all of five minutes, though it felt much longer for the both of them. And still, even as they lay sprawled on the ground, facing off, she laid still, in between them, a sign of failed promises.

"You promised," was all he could utter before a wave of sudden exhaustion hit him, cold blue eyes softening not from forgiveness, but from a sense of hopelessness.

Stefan's gaze dropped. What could he say?

A softer, more feminine voice was clearing her throat from the entrance to the refrigerated room. Meredith Fell stepped in slowly, uncertain if she was really safe in an enclosed room with two unstable vampires.

"Can you two take this outside?"

Damon glared at the woman, but felt something in him relent when he realized, whether it was a good thing or not, that Elena still had a second chance because of her somewhat psycho medical solutions. Without a word, he got up, brushed himself off, and turned to leave without giving Stefan a second look.


The images were blurry, but they were there. With a halo of light around everything, she was pretty sure she was in some sort of heaven.

"You want a love that consumes."

Damon?

She whirled around, certain that only a second ago that familiar presence of safety had been standing behind her. She reached out tentatively at the empty space before her as she stood on the side of the quiet street with only the sounds of night reaching her ears.

"I don't deserve you."

Suddenly, she was in her bedroom, hand at the base of her neck, feeling the familiar grooves of the necklace Stefan had given her. Her window was open, curtains fluttering gently in the evening breeze. The smells of clean laundry and aftershave lingered.

Her heart raced. She knew then, that these were not merely figments of her imagination after death had consumed her. These were memories.

And with that realization, she thought she was drowning all over again.

The icy coldness of the water racing in, filling her mouth and rushing into the hollows of her lungs. The feeling of someone's fangs sinking into her bare neck. The sensation of blood leaving her, slowly and steadily. The chafing of rope, so tight that the air she craved could not enter. The feeling of a cool blade at her wrist.

She gasped soundly, eyes flaring open to stare into a nothingness of stark white.

But quickly, her eyes adjusted, the white melted away into a mere light hanging above her, and she felt absolutely unwired.

The dampness of her hair sent chills down her back. The eerily lit room bothered her. The way she didn't have to breathe suffocated her.

She sat up more quickly than she realized she was capable of and was surprised when her world did not spin from dizziness. Her legs swung around the table almost mechanically, with a grace she was unaccustomed to.

Her bare feet hit the cold ground. Her head felt like it was being hammered relentlessly with some invisible force. She couldn't think.

One step, a second step, a couple moreā€¦out the doors. So quiet.

So cold.

Thump, thump, thump. Was that her heart or was that her head ready to explode?

So much chatter. So aggravating.

Phones were ringing, monitors abuzz, babies crying.

Thump, thump, thump.

This time, it felt different. More distant, something not within her. Her head snapped up towards the direction, and her wide, lost eyes fell on a familiar face currently on the phone, one hand busy recording something on a clipboard.

Meredith?

As if on cue, the doctor glanced in her direction from inside the office and she noticeably paused, eyes widening, falling into silence despite her phone call.

But it wasn't the surprised look on the doctor's face that concerned her. No, no it wasn't. It was that god awful loud thumping that seemed to grow louder and louder as she approached the office.

"Elena."

She was inside now, without even realizing where her feet had taken her. She noticed the doctor was scared, looking a bit pale, the thumping quickening deliciously.

Deliciously?

Her lips parted, and she was suddenly so aware of how dry they were and how dry her throat was. So dry.

"Elena," Meredith said her name again, this time more forcibly as if trying to snap her out of her lust.

"Meredith," was all she said before she felt her lips around a warm, pulsating neck and the sensation of absolute satisfaction filling her very soul.

"Elena!"

That voice. That smooth voice.

It took all the power within her to tear herself away from the glorious thick fluid beneath her, but it was that voice. His voice.

She looked up, and her eyes fell on not one, but two shocked looking Salvatores.


AN: Gosh haven't written anything in five years so sorry if I'm super rusty! This was super short but I promise the other chapters will be more lengthy and meaty! This fic will definitely be centered around Elena's strange spiral and new knowledge of her Petrova connections. Lots more D/E to come. Thank you for reading! Reviews always appreciated!