Forever Is Not Enough

The Fair

1876 - Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

The sky was leaden, but the city was alight with excitement and the sound of ringing bells. It was the country's 100th birthday and people were pouring in from every corner to witness America's emergence as an industrious world power. Rain had fallen all through the night, but the sky was already beginning to clear and not a soul remained inside. Throngs of visitors poured in through the gates opened as they opened, and among them, three individuals stood apart from the rest.

"Damon," Katherine called. "Do try to keep up."

He looked ahead at her and Stefan, who had paused arm in arm, to wait for him. "Why did we come here again?"

"Don't be a grump," Stefan laughed. "The president is here!"

Damon rolled his eyes. "We were on opposite sides in the war, remember?"

"You were never a Confederate, really," Stefan countered, "and he would not know even if you were. Now, come."

Damon made no attempt to mask his apathy as he moved forward, but neither Stefan nor Katherine seemed to mind. This was the usual arrangement of their outings; Katherine always in the lead, Stefan following closely behind, and Damon watching with a grimace and a snide comment. It was Stefan's idea, odd as it was, to attend the first World's Fair.

They roamed for some time, Damon always a few feet behind. They were on the brink of a new era, all of them watching as the world changed. They rode in a new contraption called the monorail where passengers could ride all around the fairgrounds, enjoying the sights and the sounds. Katherine and Stefan shared a cart, giggling and laughing together. They looked like the youth that shown on their face, not bogged down with all that had plagued them over the years. Damon sat in the car behind him, his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. They ate something called popcorn, which Damon hated, of course. They witnessed something called a telephone, the "communication of the future".

Stefan even reluctantly agreed to shell out a whole $1.50 to climb to the top of a statue at Katherine's request. It was only a hand and a torch, made of all copper, but it stood almost forty feet in the air. "Why not compel the man?" Damon huffed. "We never pay for anything."

Katherine rolled her eyes before turning sweetly to Stefan. "It is only the first piece, you see. The rest is in France. Once it is finished, it will be brought to America. Our money will be put to building a base. She will be a very large woman, I hear."

They climbed up a ladder on the inside of the statues arm, emerging from a door in the torch. The fire was made of amber colored windows and lights shown from the inside. Damon stood on the side farthest from Katherine and Stefan. It pained him to see them arm in arm. He could see the whole Eastern side of the fair, hear all of the voices rising up to the sky from where he was. He heard a quiet "I love you" from the other side of the lantern.

"The sun is going down," he called. "Dinner will be served soon."

They returned to the ground below, with Damon in a worse mood than before. Tables were set up in empty spots along the roads. The people were all filtering out of the buildings and into the streets looking for food to purchase. Lights were strung up in the square with the lady's torch lit up in the center of it all. The air was rich with the sound of excited voices and the smell of food. A group had gotten together off to the side, playing their instruments, and dancers had gathered in front of the statue.

The trio removed themselves to a table at the edge of the crowd. "I'm getting hungry," Stefan said, his leg bouncing up and down.

Katherine placed her hand authoritatively on his shoulder. "Patience, darling. I like them when they are fat and sleepy."

When it came to the point where he could no longer wait, Katherine grabbed a young man by the arm as he passed their table and forced him down in the seat next to them. "Do not make a sound," she ordered.

The two dug in without another word, the crowd swirling around them in happy ignorance. Damon lips tightened into a thin line. He turned his back to them, searching the crowd for the perfect dish. "Damon," Katherine said sweetly, dabbing her mouth with her handkerchief, "aren't you hungry?"

"Not after seeing that, no."

"Go on," she purred. "Find yourself someone to eat. It will put you in better spirits." He rolled his eyes and lifted himself from his chair, not bothering to look back.

There was plenty to choose from. A girl had been making eyes at him from across the way all night. She was a small thing though, short and thin, she was more of an hors d'oeuvre than a main course. Conversely, there was a fat lady who had sat alone for the entirety of her meal. She would taste delightful, he imagined. There was a young man who was arrogant and strong. He would put up a good chase, which was the only thing that brought him any happiness anymore.

Then he saw it. It only lasted for a moment, but it stopped him in his tracks. He had seen her 1000 times since she had died. It was a flash of brown curls disappearing from the corner of his eye. Her laugh echoing in a loud room. The smell of honey and lemongrass in his sleep. Even though it was never her, he never stopped believing it would be. When he thought he saw her face staring at him through the crowd, it was almost impossible for him to move.

The blood in his body sped through his veins. His neck was warm and rigid, trying to keep from panicking. She was walking faster from him now, only daring to peak at him as she turned the corner. He knocked a man to the ground in his pursuit. It had to be her this time, he knew it. She was fast, but she underestimated how desperate he was to catch her. He caught her arm just as she was about to break into a run, and when he saw her face, he knew he must be going mad. Seeing her, he felt as though he was touching the sun. So much happiness filled him at once that he could fall to his knees. "Elena?" he said, his eyes desperately searching her for some confirmation that he was not dreaming.

Her face had not changed from the time he last saw her, though her features had hardened, it seemed. She was a vampire now; he knew it the moment he saw her. Her cheeks were flushed from a fresh feed, and a drop of blood had dropped onto the lapel of her dress. Her lips turned down in a stern frown, even in her shock. A wall had gone up behind her eyes; no longer did they broadcast her feelings from behind dark irises. Her long hair was curly and unkempt on top of her head, but she had done what every vampire aimed to do: blended.

Her face softened for only a moment, as though struck by a memory. She raised a hand to touch his face, running her thumb across his chin. "Damon?"