07 The Return_ Midnight - L. J. Smith

Mrs. Flowers asked if Elena could board up the last few of the basement windows, and Stefan
couldn’t stand it. Matt and Meredith had already done a far more dangerous job. They’d hung two
tarps from the house’s ridgepole, each one hanging down one side of the main roof. On each tarp were
the characters that Isobel’s mother put on the Post-it Note amulets she always gave them, painted at an
enormous scale in black paint. Stefan had been allowed only to watch and give suggestions from the
widow’s walk above his attic bedroom. But now…
“We’ll nail up the boards together,” he said firmly, and went off to get a hammer and
nails.
It wasn’t really such a hard job anyway. Elena held the boards and Stefan wielded the
hammer and she trusted him not to hit her fingers, which meant that they got on very quickly.
It was a perfect day—clear, sunny, with a slight breeze. Elena wondered what was
happening to Bonnie, right now, and if Damon was taking care of her properly—or at all. She seemed
unable to shake off her worries these last days: over Stefan, over Bonnie, and over a curious feeling
that she had to know what was going on in town. Maybe she could disguise herself…
God, no! Stefan said voicelessly. When she turned he was spitting out nails and looking
both horrified and ashamed. Apparently she’d been projecting.
“I’m sorry,” he said before Elena could get the nails out of her mouth, “but you know
better than anyone why you can’t go.”
“But it’s maddening not knowing what’s happening,” Elena said, having gotten rid of her
nails. “We don’t know anything. What’s happening to Bonnie, what state the town’s in—”
“Let’s finish this board,” Stefan said. “And then let me hold you.”
When the last board was secure, Stefan raised her from the lower embankment where she
was sitting, not bride-style, but kid-style, putting her toes on top of his feet. He danced her a little,
whirled her a couple of times in the air, and then nabbed her coming down again.
“I know your problem,” he said soberly.
Elena looked up quickly. “You do?” she said, alarmed.
Stefan nodded, and to her further alarm said, “It’s Love-itis. Means the patient has a
whole slew of people she cares about, and she can’t be happy unless each and every one of them is
safe and happy themselves.”
Elena deliberately slipped off his shoes and looked up at him. “Some more than others,”
she said hesitantly.
Stefan looked down at her and then he took her in his arms. “I’m not as good as you,” he
said while Elena’s heart pounded in shame and remorse for ever having touched Damon, ever having
danced with him, ever having kissed him. “If you are happy, that’s all I want, after that prison. I can
live; I can die…peacefully.”
“If we’re happy,” Elena corrected.
“I won’t tempt the gods. I’ll settle for you.”
“No, you can’t! Don’t you see? If you disappeared again, I’d worry and fret and follow
you. To Hell if I had to.”
“I’ll take you with me wherever I go,” Stefan said hastily. “If you’ll take me with you.”
Elena relaxed slightly. That would do, for now. As long as Stefan was with her she could
stand anything.
They sat and cuddled, right under the open sky, even with a maple tree and a clump of
slender waving beeches nearby. She extended her aura a little and felt it touch Stefan’s. Peace flooded
into her, and all the dark thoughts were left behind. Almost all.