A/N – In 1x19 Miss Mystic Falls Damon seemed to do all the right things so why would he conclude that it was a no good very bad day?

A NO GOOD VERY BAD DAY

Damon watched Elena intently as her head finally began to loll against the cellar wall she had been leaning on for the last several hours. He stood up awkwardly stretching the kinks out of his body, then bent over and in one swift motion swept Elena easily into his arms. He walked slowly up the stairs and into the living room, laying her on the sofa. He smoothed her clothes and tucked a blanket around her. He made his way to his room, tossed his tuxedo jacket onto the bed but didn't bother to remove his now disheveled shirt.

He and made his way to a bookshelf and retrieved a slim leather bound volume from one of the shelves. The cover glowed with the gentle patina of old age. Damon fingered the gold 'DS' embossed in the lower right corner. He opened the book to reveal thick cream coloured pages, the edges beginning to yellow with age. Most of the pages were blank but a few contained entries. The first few were dated 1864, and were written in quill and ink in the stylized calligraphy of that era. There were a cluster of entries dated in the mid twenties, one in 1934 with only a half dozen after that, the last dated 1994.

Damon grabbed a pen and made his way back down to the cellar. He walked to Stefan's cell and for several minutes watched Stefan's inert form through the bars. Then he resumed his post leaning against the door, and began to write.

I don't normally write much as my life is not that memorable, but sometimes there are things I need to share. There is no one else I can share these with.

As I look back at my actions today I should feel proud of myself. By Stefan and Elena's, and perhaps even my own, standards I did all the right things. I protected my brother from himself and in the process saved the life of an innocent girl. I protected our family from exposure and secured our place in this town that has been our only home. I even stepped in when Stefan abandoned Elena and made her feel wanted and beautiful in the midst of the Miss Mystic Falls side show. Yet I can't help but feel that everything I did was useless, of no effect, and it was just a no good very bad day.

How could it all unravel so quickly?

For almost a hundred years I hated him for being better than me, for putting me to shame with every person he refused to kill, and every violent act he refused to commit. He was doing it all wrong, burying and ignoring the monster inside him. I kept my monster on a tight leash, always close to me so I would know what he was about to do. I was sure that Stefan's monster would come back some day and because Stefan didn't know how he worked the monster would destroy him.

But the monster didn't come back. So I hated Stefan all the more. I hated him for the moments of serenity he was able to find and then string together into minutes, hours , days and finally years. As he got stronger I pushed harder. I teased him. I taunted him. I ridiculed him. I threw every barrier I could before him. I manipulated him and threatened him and every person who was in his life. I brought him to the edge innumerable times but I couldn't push him over. And yet, even as I grew physically stronger and he weaker, he stood firm. He had found his happiness. He had won.

So, for fifteen years I stayed away. He had settled into his life and nothing I did one way or another would remove him from his groove. And even though I hated him, a small part of me was glad. I wanted him to beat me. I wanted him to win. With every year he put between himself and the monster it gave me hope. Perhaps it was possible to fight our instincts and win. Perhaps we didn't need to give in to the blood but could find a better way.

But I couldn't stand by when Stefan finally went after the one thing that had eluded him in all these years, when he finally went after love. How could he get so far ahead of me? How could he go after love when I was still stuck in hate? How could he go after love when the closest I could come to affection was a momentary distraction?

That was when I redoubled my efforts and forced myself back into his life. I tried everything to destroy what was growing between him and that compassionate girl, charm, deceit, manipulation, abuse, but they pulled me along with them, ensnaring me in their web of hope and love. So I finally thought that it was possible. That I could stop doubting and resisting and finally begin to look for some happiness of my own. It was then that I inadvertently set the wheels in motion for Stefan's destruction.

I didn't say anything when I found him on the floor that first night, draining blood bag after blood bag, even though I could see the helplessness in his eyes. But the next day when I saw him trying to pull himself together I went back to the old program, teasing, taunting, giving him something to push against. He pretended to push back but he was just lying to me and himself. Lying, manipulating, stealing, he slipped into them so easily. And today it all exploded. The monster consumed him and almost destroyed us all.

I sat with Elena for hours in this cellar. We didn't say much. There isn't much room for idle chit chat or ironic humor in our lives right now. I couldn't speak meaningless reassuring words to her. All I could do was sit with her and wait. When she finally fell asleep drained by worry and exhaustion I moved her to the sofa. So now it's just me keeping this futile solitary vigil.

I don't know if it is even possible to bring Stefan back to himself. I've got him on massive doses of vervain. Its presence should accelerate the metabolism of the human blood in his system, and after a few days the blood will no longer have a physical hold on Stefan's body. What I don't know is whether it will still have a hold on him.

How could all the hope that Stefan brought into our lives collapse so easily? I played the adult today but I am not the right person for this job. How can I carry this family, when I can barely keep myself together? Still, it's been left to me to piece us back together. I am no good at this. No good at all.

Damon laid the pen down. Leaned his head against the cell door and resumed his vigil.