The Nutcracker

Three : I'll Be Home For Christmas

Months pass – actual months and months that stretch and seem to go on forever. For Elena, time ceases to matter and days bleed together, a constant loop of words on pages and blinking screens as she writes her own happy ending to forget her empty life without Stefan.

Caroline and Bonnie don't know what to think, how to feel – not right now, when Elena is better and worse and happier and sadder. They watch their friend blossom and wither, and stand by her because they can't do anything else.

More days pass and Elena starts to hole up, lost in a world of her own. Stefan would have wanted her to live; wouldn't have wanted to see her like this – but Stefan would also understand that this is what she needs right now, the same way he needs to put his family together.

So she writes, and writes, and everything blurs together, fiction and real life, dreams and wishful words. She grows lighter each day and it's almost as if those words can fill up that hole in her, however temporarily.

But then it's Christmas, and it's been a year.

She will wait forever, but she had hoped she wouldn't have to. She hopes he'll hurry back – come home to her for Christmas.

She throws her Christmas party, because it's not hers – it's for her parents, and the memory of her parents pulls her out of this… limbo and gets her back into the game, if only just for the night.

Bonnie shows up half an hour later, and she can't help her wondering eyes; her heart sinks when it becomes clear that Bonnie's alone – all alone. Bonnie smiles, but it looks wrong – sad.

"I'm so sorry, 'Lena," She sighs, drawing her friend into a comforting hug. Elena smiles bravely as she pulls back, and tucks her hair behind her ear.

"It's alright, Bonnie. Come on in," She ushers a few more friends in before casting a longing look at the bright snow.

It takes everything in her to pretend – to lie her way through the entire evening, for the sake of her concerned friends. But no one misses the way her eyes are drawn to the main door every few minutes, and the way she lingers at the open door just a little too long each time she opens it to let someone in.

Caroline observes her friend with a concerned look all night, only smiling once when Bonnie appears at her side. Together they stand watching their closest friend, and pray for a Christmas miracle.

One year – it's been one whole year now since that first Christmas, and yet it feels as if she's been stuck in limbo, drifting in nothing, forever. Nothing makes sense anymore – nothing stands out enough to make sense. There are basic actions, things she does out of habit – eat, breathe, sleep, write your own happy ending and live it because it's the only way you can cope – but she's not living, not really. This is no life – there will be no life in her existence until he returns.

She refuses to acknowledge that it has now become a matter of if he returns, despite what her friends say. They ask her to move on, but how can she persevere with only half of her heart left? They stop asking after that, because her little emotional bout of insanity had been enough to scare off even the most dedicated, eager gossip women around.

So Elena waits for him to come back; knows deep within her that he will, one way or another. She knows what some of the others are saying – that he'd used her for one night and then tossed her, because she wasn't enough, too broken into tiny little fragments – but she knows better than that.

She doesn't doubt Stefan – never has, and won't start now. Besides, what do those women know? Not even of the nutcracker, that's for sure.

The nutcracker – it keeps her sane and reassures her on the rare occasions that she does need all those extra safety blankets. When Stefan left his only heirloom of sorts behind, he left a piece of himself for her to safeguard, and Elena is determined to do one hell of a job. She will live and go through the motions of everything, but keep herself suspended in time because even she – a very small, very dark and very quiet part of her – knows that they won't be the same people when he comes back, but she wants to hang on that one night night – that almost-telepathic connection – for just a little bit more. For just for a little while longer, she wants to believe that he could be back any minute now and nothing would have to change.

But what Elena can't see – doesn't see anymore because she's weathered so many storms – is that sometimes change can be good.

Everyone thinks Stefan is here and that hurts – it hurts every single time she has to smile and tell them otherwise, it hurts when they get all shocked because 'you two had such a connection!' and it hurts when they look at her with different eyes when she says they still do, she's just waiting for him to get back.

Everything about his absence hurts now, even the parts he couldn't possibly have foreseen. It's been a year – even he would have stopped thinking of possible consequences at this point. But where is he? Where is Stefan? When he said he would have to leave for London, she had thought he was talking about a month, maybe six weeks. But this? This is across the world and further away than ever, somewhere no one will ever find him.

But maybe this time, she will. After all, who says she can't go find him? Who says she has to play the damsel in distress, looking longingly outside her window, waiting for her prince? Who says things have to be the way they are?

So she books a flight, and miraculously, she gets one because no one flies in the dead of the night. She packs in a mad frenzy while Caroline and Bonnie handle the party, and asks them to please lock up for her. Before she leaves, they hold her tight and shower her with words of encouragement, and then she is off.

It feels good, this whole taking action thing – much better than sitting around. As she drives, she can feel the adrenaline coursing through her, giddy with the thought that soon, she will see him again. And she will. She will track him down and take what is rightfully hers.

After all, he's stolen her heart.

She arrives in a foreign city, in a foreign land in the morning, intent on finding her home – because that's what Stefan is to her, she realizes now. A home. A safe haven. A future.

There is no time for a hotel – she holds onto her small bag with just two changes of clothes and heads straight for some familiar names that Bonnie had given her, along with a picture of the two brothers to identify Damon Salvatore, the one she's never met – the one who made Stefan hate himself all his life and then walk away to save his brother when he'd finally found someone who accepted him and loved him.

She should have told him – should have said those words instead of reasoning it away, saying it was too soon, too much, too fast, too vulnerable, too naïve and a million other things. She should have said it.

Bonnie's small bits of information leads her to pubs, pubs and more pubs, each one of them a dead end. That's when she really starts working on her own, heading into every single establishment she passes by, picture in hand, mind composed. Inside, a little piece of her dies a little more each time she checks a street of her map – each time her chances of finding him diminish.

She searches all day long – for more than 12 hours, Elena Gilbert goes around the world, looking for a man no one has ever seen. When night falls and everything starts closing, she finds herself near the airport once more and decides to head in to one of the cafes and regroup first – think of what she's going to do next. She won't leave, not without Stefan, not after all of this madness.

She heads for a café that looks promising, with big, overstuffed chairs and sinks into one of them once she has a drink in hand. Staring blankly at the strangers, Elena sips at her warm coffee. Her heart clenches every time she sees a couple reunited, because that should have been her, yesterday.

She hadn't realized it but she does now – a part of her had really been expecting Stefan to come back yesterday, at the party. A small part of her, one that couldn't bear the thought of him not coming, had consoled herself with this hope, only to have it ruined.

She's no china doll, but Elena doesn't know how many more times she can take being broken.

Lost in a sea of nameless faces, Elena sits there for hours until her eyes, body, mind and heart can't take anymore of this. What she needs is a good night's rest in a nice bed, and then she'll be good as new, not this bitter person she has become after five hours of watching happy people.

She finishes her fourth drink of the night, wondering if she'll ever get to sleep. Regardless, she picks up her bag and gets on her feet, feeling an insane need to stretch.

She's about to stretch her back, just a little bit, when she feels it – that presence, that charge that only one person gives off; the burn of his eyes following her.

Now she's done it – gone and snapped, driven to desperate insanity and hallucinations. What do they put in British coffee, anyway? Maybe she just needs some food in her system – twenty hours is too long for anyone.

Pleased with her reasoning, she nods and prepares herself to turn around, knowing that the minute she does, this will all be gone and she will be faced with strangers.

But then he calls her name in that way only he does – in that way only he can - and her heart skips a beat, and her breath catches, and her knees go weak.

"Elena."

Slowly, ever so slowly, she turns around, not trusting herself and her over-worked senses. She can't get her hopes up, can't trust in this, can't risk breaking her heart again. But who is she kidding? She's known it's him the minute she felt him. And as she turns around and faces him, she knows she was right – this is really, truly him and this is really, truly happening.

"Stefan," She breathes, taking him in. Tired – tired and exhausted and… sadder, a little more worn. But happy and pleased and for the first time in a year, whole again. He's holding a bag – or at least, he was. It falls onto the floor, forgotten as she jumps into his arms, but it reassures her, comforts her – tells her that he had been on his way back to her.

And that's all that really matters for now – Stefan is here, with her; Stefan has always wanted to be with her, even when he couldn't. Maybe something had gone wrong; maybe things are still wrong. But he's here, and she's here, and they're together, as they always will be from now on.

And it's home, and a warm Christmas with a loved one, and everything she could have asked for. And as he holds her close, drawing comfort and love from her presence, he grips her tighter and murmurs in her ears three words that are easier than the other three they should say. But these three words give her hope, let her know that they have time – forever – to say those other three words.

"Merry Christmas, Elena."

THE END

~ MERRY CHRISTMAS! ~

And there we have it: The Nutcracker, a Stelena holiday romance. Thank you all so very much for your wonderful support and I hope to hear more from you guys – I love the TVD fandom people! I'll see you guys next year. In the meantime, don't forget to check out the other Christmas Specials!

I'm sorry about the major mess-up when I posted the wrong chapter earlier. I'd been in a hurry to wrap things up and enjoying being with my family for the holidays, and just noticed the huge mistake I'd made. Sorry, everyone!

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and Happy New Year's!

E Salvatore,

December 2011.