So... Yeah. That hurt.

Hurt fangirl therapy. I just wanted to see Elena fight for Damon. Just this once.

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Monster

"I'm not gonna let you do this."

He closed his eyes in desperation, trying desperately to ignore how every single part of him screamed to turn around and hold her, kiss her, tell her that he loved her more than she could ever even comprehend.

Silently, he shoved another shirt in his bag, listening to her shuffling around restlessly. "Damon," she repeated, a little more forcefully, "damn it, look at me." He stiffed, for a long moment debating refusing her—but they both knew he'd give in in the end.

"What, Elena?" He spat, crossing his arms over his chest and trying his best to look just as fine as he had before. "What more do you want me to say?"

"Nothing!" She exclaimed angrily, stalking into his bedroom and poking her finger in his chest, "I don't want you to say anything! I want you to listen." She looked up at him with those beautiful doe eyes, and with a pang he realized how bloodshot and red rimmed they still were; she'd cried.

He'd made her cry.

Great. Another reason to stay away from her.

"Damon," she whispered (he wasn't sure whether she was doing it on purpose or not but whispering his name like that… It broke him in a way he didn't even know he could break), "I'm not letting you walk away this time." Her voice was soft, but strong, and he hated how he could hear the determination in it, because he knew she was serious.

The girl was like a dog with a bone.

"I'm not the silly, innocent, little school girl that I was when you first met me," she continued, and all he could do was listen, her hands hot and heavy on his cheeks, "I'm not. And I know that you've done horrible things. I know that you've killed and reveled in it. And guess what?" She leveled him with a glare so fierce, he could've sworn she was trying to incinerate him on the spot.

"We all have," she spat, biting her lip, "Stefan has. I have, Caroline has, and I'm sure Enzo has too. I don't know what made you think that I have to defend you; I don't. I don't make excuses for you—because it's just that simple. I love you, Damon. All of you—even the homicidal, psychotic murderer part." She stroked his cheek gently and he wanted to burst because he couldn't.

He couldn't pull her down along with him.

"Elena," he breathed, closing his eyes briefly, "Don't." He shivered when she ran her fingers through the hair on the back of his neck and sighed, giving in and opening his eyes to look at her again. "I'm not letting you walk away," she repeated, "I let you with the sire bond, I let you go so many times before that, and I'm not doing it now. I knew what I was getting into, Damon. And I'm not letting you walk away from it because you're scared you'll do something."

It was almost like she knew where every single one of his insecurities laid, and gave him a response to each and every one of them, and he wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry at the realization that Elena knew him better than even his own brother did.

And that realization just fortified his belief that he was wrong for her. That he was bringing her down, changing her into something she wasn't.

"Elena, I need to do this," he whispered, "You need to stop. Don't make this any harder than it already is." He needed to pull away, yell at her, make her hate him—but he couldn't. He was frozen on the spot, unable to pull away from her. "No," Elena glared, "No. We did not go through all the shit that we went through together, only so you can run away the very second the going gets rough. We're getting through this, Damon. And no matter what anyone says…"

She smiled weakly and stroked her thumbs over his cheeks, "You're not a monster, Damon." His heart stutters, and his mind revolts at the mere thought of letting go of the idea of being a monster. It's all he's ever been told—and it's the truth.

Once again, it almost felt like Elena read his mind. "I know that's what you've been told, so many times, by so many people that you loved and cared about, and Damon, I know that I used to be one of them…" He winced painfully at the reminder, "…But you showed me I was wrong. A monster would never have gone to all the lengths that you did just to make me happy. A monster would never even be able to love me to begin with. They're wrong, Damon." She stared at him, and he could see the utter conviction in her eyes—but he just couldn't.

He couldn't shake the words.

"But I am," he refuted weakly, "I've killed and slaughtered and not cared. I've hurt and abandoned those that I loved… What kind of person does that?" Elena shrugged a little and smiled sadly. "My father was human. And he tortured vampires in the name of science. What kind of person does that? All the things that you did… They don't matter to me. I will handle every dark secret in your past, because Damon… It's exactly that. Past. I don't care about what you've done—I love you. Now. And I will love you tomorrow, and every day after that too, no matter what secret pops up."

She leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, and damn him, but he couldn't stop himself from kissing her back. "I'll always love you, Damon," she whispered when she pulled away, "And I'll follow you when you leave. We've fought too hard for this, for us to just let it go. So please," she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer to him, "Please, don't leave me. I'm never going to give up on you. I promise. No matter what happens."

He fought—he really did—to tell her no, to tell her to go away, to tell her he didn't love her…

But he couldn't.

He loved Elena more than he loved life itself and he couldn't refuse her. Not like this. So instead, he sighed deeply and nodded, brushing his lips past hers as he whispered, "Okay. I love you." He could feel her smile against his lips, and though the little voice in the back of his head was still telling him he was making a mistake…

He didn't care.

He had Elena.

And she was right—he would never give up on her, and vice versa.

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Reviews are love. And I could really use some after that episode.

Xx Annaelle