Lisa Smith: The Struggle

When she released him enough to look at him, she saw that his skin was waxen, and there were black shadows under his eyes. His skin was so cold that it frightened her.

She looked up at the others anxiously.

Matt’s brow was furrowed with concern. “We’d better get him to the clinic fast. He needs a doctor.”

“No!” The voice was weak and hoarse, and it came from the limp figure Elena cradled.

She felt Stefan gather himself, felt him slowly raise his head. His green eyes fixed on hers, and she saw the urgency in them.

“No… doctors.” Those eyes burned into hers. “Promise… Elena.”

Elena’s own eyes stung and her vision blurred. “I promise,” she whispered. Then she felt whatever had been holding him up, the current of sheer willpower and determination, collapse. He slumped in her arms, unconscious.

“But he’s got to have a doctor. He looks like he’s dying!” said Bonnie.

“He can’t. I can’t explain right now. Let’s just get him home, all right? He’s wet and freezing out here. Then we can discuss it.”

The job of getting Stefan through the woods was enough to occupy everyone’s mind for a while. He remained unconscious, and when they finally laid him out in the back seat of Matt’s car they were all bruised and exhausted, in addition to being wet from the contact with his soaking clothes. Elena held his head in her lap as they drove to the boarding house. Meredith and Bonnie followed.

“I see lights on,” Matt said, pulling in front of the large rust-red building. “She must be awake. But the door’s probably locked.”

Elena gently eased Stefan’s head down and slipped out of the car, and saw one of the windows in the house brighten as a curtain was pushed aside. Then she saw a head and shoulders appear at the window, looking down.

“Mrs. Flowers!” she called, waving. “It’s Elena Gilbert, Mrs. Flowers. We’ve found Stefan, and we need to get in!”

The figure at the window did not move or otherwise acknowledge her words. Yet from its posture, Elena could tell it was still looking down on them.

“Mrs. Flowers, we have Stefan,” she called again, gesturing to the lighted interior of the car. “Please!”

“Elena! It’s unlocked already!” Bonnie’s voice floated to her from the front porch, distracting Elena from the figure at the window. When she looked back up, she saw the curtains falling into place, and then the light in that upstairs room snapped off.

It was strange, but she had no time to puzzle over it. She and Meredith helped Matt lift Stefan and carry him up the front steps.

Inside, the house was dark and still. Elena directed the others up the staircase that stood opposite the door, and onto the second-floor landing. From there they went into a bedroom, and Elena had Bonnie open the door of what looked like a closet. It revealed another stairway, very dim and narrow.

“Who would leave their—front door unlocked—after all that’s happened recently?” Matt grunted as they hauled their lifeless burden. “She must be crazy.”

“She is crazy,” Bonnie said from above, pushing the door at the top of the staircase open. “Last time we were here she talked about the weirdest—” Her voice broke off in a gasp.

“What is it?” said Elena. But as they reached the threshold of Stefan’s room, she saw for herself.

She’d forgotten the condition the room had been in the last time she’d seen it. Trunks filled with clothing were upended or lying on their sides, as if they’d been thrown by some giant hand from wall to wall. Their contents were strewn about the floor, along with articles from the dresser and tables. Furniture was overturned, and a window was broken, allowing a cold wind to blow in. There was only one lamp on, in a corner, and grotesque shadows loomed against the ceiling. “ What happened ?” said Matt.

Elena didn’t answer until they had stretched Stefan out on the bed. “I don’t know for certain,” she said, and this was true, if just barely. “But it was already this way last night. Matt, will you help me? He needs to get dry.”

“I’ll find another lamp,” said Meredith, but Elena spoke quickly.

“No, we can see all right. Why don’t you try to get a fire going?”

Spilling from one of the gaping trunks was a terry cloth robe of some dark color. Elena took it, and she and Matt began to strip off Stefan’s wet and clinging clothes. She worked on getting his sweater off, but one glimpse of his neck was enough to freeze her in place.

“Matt, could you—could you hand me that towel?”

As soon as he turned, she tugged the sweater over Stefan’s head and quickly wrapped the robe around him. When Matt turned back and handed her the towel, she wound it around Stefan’s throat like a scarf. Her pulse was racing, her mind working furiously.

No wonder he was so weak, so lifeless. Oh, God. She had to examine him, to see how bad it was. But how could she, with Matt and the others here?

“I’m going to get a doctor,” Matt said in a tight voice, his eyes on Stefan’s face. “He needs help, Elena.”

Elena panicked. “Matt, no… please. He —he’s afraid of doctors. I don’t know what would happen if you brought one here.” Again, it was the truth, if not the whole truth. She had an idea of what might help Stefan, but she couldn’t do it with the others there. She bent over Stefan, rubbing his hands between her own, trying to think.

What could she do? Protect Stefan’s secret at the cost of his life? Or betray him in order to save him? Would it save him to tell Matt and Bonnie and Meredith? She looked at her friends, trying to picture their response if they were to learn the truth about Stefan Salvatore.

It was no good. She couldn’t risk it. The shock and horror of the discovery had nearly sent Elena herself reeling into madness. If she, who loved Stefan, had been ready to run from him screaming, what would these three do? And then there was Mr. Tanner’s murder. If they knew what Stefan was, would they ever be able to believe him innocent? Or, in their heart of hearts, would they always suspect him?

Elena shut her eyes. It was just too dangerous. Meredith and Bonnie and Matt were her friends, but this was one thing she couldn’t share with them. In all the world, there was no one she could trust with this secret. She would have to keep it alone.

She straightened up and looked at Matt. “He’s afraid of doctors, but a nurse might be all right.” She turned to where Bonnie and Meredith were kneeling before the fireplace. “Bonnie, what about your sister?”

“Mary?” Bonnie glanced at her watch. “She has the late shift at the clinic this week, but she’s probably home by now. Only—”

“Then that’s it. Matt, you go with Bonnie and ask Mary to come here and look at Stefan. If she thinks he needs a doctor, I won’t argue any more.”

Matt hesitated, then exhaled sharply. “All right. I still think you’re wrong, but—let’s go, Bonnie. We’re going to break some traffic laws.”

As they went to the door, Meredith remained standing by the fireplace, watching Elena with steady dark eyes.

Elena made herself meet them. “Meredith… I think you should all go.”

“Do you?” Those dark eyes remained on hers unwaveringly, as if trying to pierce through and read her mind. But Meredith did not ask any other questions. After a moment she nodded, and followed Matt and Bonnie without a word.

When Elena heard the door at the bottom of the staircase close, she hastily righted a lamp that lay overturned by the bedside and plugged it in. Now, at last, she could take stock of Stefan’s injuries.

His color seemed worse than before; he was literally almost as white as the sheets below him. His lips were white, too, and Elena suddenly thought of Thomas Fell, the founder of Fell’s Church. Or, rather, of Thomas Fell’s statue, lying beside his wife’s on the stone lid of their tomb. Stefan was the color of that marble.