This is my first story, I really hope you like it. Feel free to review, I'd really love your feedback.
Disclosure: I do not own the vampire diaries or any of its characters.
'The pulsing was made up of nothing but a memory. The memory of a girl with dark blue eyes and golden hair and a small face with wide brown eyes. And the taste: the taste of two maidens' tears. Elena. Bonnie.
Putting the two of them together they formed what was not exactly a thought, not exactly a picture. But to someone who only understood words, it might be translated:
They are waiting for me. If I can figure out who I am.
And that sparked a fierce determination.
After what seemed like centuries but was only a few hours, something moved in the ash. A fist clenched.
And something stirred in the brain, a self-revelation. A name.
Damon.'
Damon's brain struggled to put together the events that had resulted in him lying flat on his back, unable to move, covered in what appeared to be a fine soot like material, although he couldn't be sure, as at present he was unable to open his eyes. Damon kept trying to move his limbs and grew aggravated when the only movement he felt was in his right hand. He clenched it into a fist and then back into an open palm, enjoying what little movement he could make. He thought of how he had gotten into this mess. This sort of thing didn't happen to… what was he again? Oh right, a vampire. He was a vampire and he was absolutely certain that vampires never found themselves unable to move. For some reason his mind kept flitting back to that little face, with those giant eyes. He felt his tongue trying to move, his mouth opening slightly as it tried desperately to form the words. "Li..Little Re..d Bird." That was it, she was his little red bird, his beautiful child.
Then his mind filled with memories, he saw himself standing in shocked horror as she began to climb something, what had it been, a… tree. She had climbed the tree. That awful tree. She was trying to reach something, but what had it been? If he had been able to move his arm, he probably would have scratched his head as he searched for the words… The star ball, that was it. The giant star ball, that was so far out of reach. It had been so unlike that beautiful little red bird to climb up that tree. After all she was scared of heights. It was someone else's fault. The person who'd made her believe that she could cross the bridge, who made her believe she was could walk a tightrope. His little Bonnie, would have never have done anything so stupid if it wasn't for them… St Stefan and his perfect Elena.
He'd watched in utter horror as his little red bird had climbed higher and higher, until he had grabbed her, saved her, but something had happened, something had gone wrong. His heart had gone suddenly cold and that coldness had spread from his heart, through each of his limbs, even into his fingers and toes, even into his eyes. He'd never felt coldness like it. It was colder than ice, colder than the icy depths of the lake that Elena had jumped into to save that stupid animal. Elena, always the hero, she had talked to him, made it easier somehow to say goodbye. She hadn't left him. She'd promised that I'd never be alone, that no one is ever really alone.
She'd promised, and yet here he was, unable to move, very much alone.