I do not own anything in this story. The CW created the universe, and I just play in it.

This is my first fanfiction. Please rate and review!

Thump.

Elena looked up from her book. She'd been reading The Great Gatsby for English, determined to at least get a bit of homework done before she had to meet Stefan, when she heard something outside. The sound was coming from the back door, which was never locked—anything that could be deterred by a locked door was not a threat to her. "Hello? Is someone there?"

Thump.

Nobody else was home. Jeremy was out with Bonnie, Caroline out with Tyler, and Alaric out doing God knows what. Probably at the Mystic Grill—according to Stefan, he'd been spending a lot of time there lately, drinking out his sorrow for Jenna. The past few days had been especially hard for Alaric, what with the loss of Jenna coupled with the fact that he hadn't been able to do anything about it. Elena put her book down and slowly inched towards the kitchen. "Anyone there?"

Thump.

The knife drawer creaked as it opened. Elena pulled out the biggest chopping knife she could carry easily and slid the drawer shut again. A shadow moved outside, and she flinched, tightening her grip on the handle. Thoughts of Klaus, Elijah, and even Katherine ran through her head at superhuman speed. Katherine was definitely out for her blood, while Klaus was all for kidnapping her. Elijah—Elena had no idea where he stood anymore.

Thump.

"Elena?" The voice was hoarse and weak, barely audible, but definitely familiar.

"Damon?" Relieved, Elena tossed the knife on the counter and cracked open the back door. It was dark, but she could make out someone in a leather jacket slumped on the porch. "Is something wrong?"

"Of cours, everything's just fine and…" His voice trailed off. Suddenly, his head jerked back and he started coughing up something dark. Blood.

"Oh my God." Elena stared at the blood, pooling at her feet and staining the white porch red. "Damon, what happened? Oh God, we have to get you inside. Come on!" She reached down and slung his arm over her shoulders.

Once Damon was inside, settled back on the couch, Elena knelt down and started dabbing the blood off his jacket. "What happened to you?"

"Leave it," he said weakly but firmly, swatting at her hand. "It's not"—cough—"like I'm not"—cough—"used to a little blood."

"Fine, but you have a lot of explaining to do." Elena sat back on her heels and crossed her arms. "Did someone stake you? Was it Klaus?"

"No, not Klaus." Damon coughed and wiped more blood off his mouth. "Ugh, vampire blood smells"—cough—"almost as unappetizing as"—cough—"werewolf blood."

"Elijah? Is he back?"

"Not Elijah." Damon winced. "It was Tyler."

"Tyler? As in Tyler Lockwood?"

"Because we know so many other Tylers in Mystic Falls," Damon said, recovering a little bit of his usual snarky self. "Yes, Tyler Lockwood."

Elena looked at him in surprise and anger. "He attacked you?"

"Elena, it wasn't like that—" Damon broke off, coughing.

"He can't do that, Damon! Give me two minutes, I'm going to call Caroline and tell her to get over here right now—"

"Elena!" The sharpness of Damon's voice stunned her into silence. "Don't call Caroline, Tyler, Alaric, the president, and definitely don't call your knight in hero hair." Wincing, he rolled back his left sleeve. "Look."

"Oh my God." Elena stared at the huge, bruise-like wound on Damon's forearm. It was a nasty purplish color, and the edges were black bordering on red. The surrounding veins were deep red—the wound was spreading. "What is that?"

Damon flexed his arm and grimaced. "Werewolf bite, of course. I was stopping your friend Tyler from going all wolfy on the town last full moon, and he nipped me."

"Damon…" Elena's voice trailed off as she traced the bite with her fingertips. It felt as if it was pulsing, like a parasite trapped under his skin. "This happened three days ago, and you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't want to know—"

"You can't just leave me out on things like this—"

"—because I didn't want you to worry," Damon finished, cutting her off. "The only person I told was Stefan, and even he had an Elena-worthy reaction."

"You told Stefan, and he didn't tell me?" Elena thought back to what had happened the last few nights. Stefan had stopped by every day to make sure she was okay, and had escorted her to and from school. He'd helped her with homework and let her cry to him about Jenna and cooked dinner for her and Jeremy, and not once had he mentioned that his own brother was dying.

Dying…

"Damon!" She sat up suddenly.

"Elena!" He mimicked her urgent tone.

"Werewolf bites are lethal to vampires, aren't they?"

"I guess they are," he said, trying to be nonchalant, but already seeing that she'd reached the same conclusion he was at.

"Damon, are you going to die?"

"And leave you here with no one but my melodramatic little brother to care for you?" He coughed up a little blood and smirked at her. "You can't get rid of me that easily."

Elena shook her head. "We have to find a cure. There has to be a cure. You can't die, Damon."

"There hasn't been a documented cure in the history of vampires. Just because you're a sexy Petrova doppelganger, what makes you think you can find something that doesn't exist?"

Elena ignored the doppelganger comment. "Maybe Bonnie knows something, like a spell, or herbs. She's a Bennett witch. There has to be something."

"Bonnie would run away with Klaus before she helped me," Damon snorted.

"Damon, as much as she hates you, she wouldn't let you die."

I'll try to update this story as often as possible. Hope you enjoyed it! xox