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“Because of . . . but you warned me, didn’t you? I figured it was probably like that.
Like—like symbiosis or whatever it is. In biology, where the plant makes nectar so the bee gets pollen on it and takes it to the next plant. Right?” Stefan
“Well—well . . . not exactly. Vampires and humans aren’t natural symbiants. They haven’t evolved together and all too often the human ends up—“ He realized he should shut up. Telling Matt that humans usually ended up dead or as vampires too was just the opposite of a good strategy.
“Oh,” Matt said again. Stefan was too drenched in relief to find any fault with the conversation. He was gradually realizing that Matt didn’t have the fears for his masculinity that made overcompensation necessary. Matt knew he was male and straight the way he knew he was human and an omnivore that ate certain foods and didn’t eat others. He could force himself to take a bite of grass, or even, if the circumstances were drastic enough and survival was at stake, a bite of human flesh. But he wouldn’t worry afterward about becoming a horse or a cannibal for life.
Besides, Matt was a giver. Just as Elena had been. Something inside them compelled them to get involved in any situation, to try to make it better.
What Meredith had seen in the naked light of logic, and compelled herself to accept, what Bonnie had been able to follow as an adventure, Matt saw as an act of friendship, and an obligation between friends. Elena had always fulfilled her obligations, even to the undead.
Stefan was not human, but inhuman or not, he was Matt’s friend.
Matt was talking again. “Look,” Matt said. “You didn’t want to do this tonight. We made you. And maybe there was something . . . somewhere that made us.” Involuntarily, Stefan glanced up. Yes, he’d had the strong feeling of her presence here tonight, too. Elena. Still scheming from the spirit world. Elena couldn’t help him any longer with her blood, but that wouldn’t matter to her. She had three humans that she could still influence, and that was fine. It wouldn’t matter to her that Meredith got a bit of a shock or that Bonnie might be playing with fire, or even—well, she wouldn’t have done anything to destroy his friendship with Matt, but he hadn’t known that before.
Matt was going on. “But even though we did force you, you did everything you could for each one of us: three different personalities. No, don’t try to figure out if Meredith or Bonnie talked. I could tell. And Meredith is going to be a tough one for a while, isn’t she?” There were some things gentlemen didn’t talk about. But . . . “Meredith is tough,” Stefan said. “She’ll figure things out for herself and then I’ll do whatever she wants.
Assuming,” he added dryly, “I survive past tonight.”
“What do you think about your chances—now? Our chances, I mean.” Stefan shook his head, both to convey his opinion about his chances, and his opinion about Matt getting involved. But he tried to think about the question. Matt
deserved that.
“I don’t know, but a lot better than before,” he admitted slowly.
“So if Elena did influence things, it might really make a difference.” It had better, Stefan thought, remembering Meredith and the naked fear in her eyes—
in Meredith’s eyes!
“Well, there,” Matt was saying. “If Elena is behind it all, then it’s another of her little victories. Everybody did the best they could. You had to try to fit yourself to each person, and we had to face our fears—”
He paused and they spoke in unison. “—except maybe Bonnie.” Matt snorted. Stefan could sense him looking at him.
“I don’t want . . . to lose a friend. My best friend, I guess you could say, even though I don’t see much of him,” Matt said finally.
Now that took courage, Stefan thought. Overcoming the stereotypes of the culture you were born into, trying not to be defensive, or to run away.
“I’d be proud to have a best friend like you,” he said, and Matt smiled, then ducked his head and started fussing with his shoe, his tolerance for “mushy type stuff” undoubtedly exceeded.
Each of them had done their best. Matt was still his friend. For Meredith, maybe the day would come when she could look at him and not think “inhuman”—or at least not think it immediately and constantly. Maybe Bonnie, the moth, would be able to stay away from the unholy flame. Now, there was something to worry about. He could all too easily see Bonnie taking a walk on the very wild side with Damon. His brother had a soft spot for her already, she knew. But if either of them had a problem, he already knew what he had to do to find a plan for a solution.
Just look up.
The end.

© Ljane Smith (L. J. Smith)
This is a fantasy of a fantasy. The idea is : what might have happened at the end of Dark Reunion if Stefan had been persuaded to drink the blood of his three friends in order to be more powerful when he fought that night.
It might have happened something like this...
Please note that the text from the actual book, Dark Reunion, is paraphrased and condensed.
Rating: for mature people who enjoy vampire tales.
Bonnie
