Disclaimer: I don't own anything. If I did, sure as hell Delena wouldn't be just FanFic anymore...

A/N: This is my story about what happens after 2#22. I know there are a lot of S3 fics; but I had this thing in my mind since May, and it continuously whispered "write me!". Eventually I gave in.

Here it is.

Oh, I'm not a native speaker; so if it's a bit rocky sometimes, or you wonder about my choice of words - don't hesitate to tell me; I can take it...and I'm a teacher, so you can use it as the perfect opportunity for payback...

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Chapter 1

Here it comes ready or not

We both found out it's not how we thought

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It Is What It Is by Lifehouse


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She was gone.

Just like that.

Leaving them behind with a few phrases she had thrown into the room like crumbs for pigeons.

And with the cure.

Elena woke out of the numbness Katherine's words had caused and noticed that she was staring at Damon without seeing him. The expression she saw on his face now mirrored her own feelings. It was then when reality hit her: the cure! Katherine had brought a cure. Damon didn't have to die. He would live … or something like that.

Pushing thoughts about everything else aside for the moment, she rushed back to the bed and sat down on the edge, laying one hand gently on Damon's hand, cupping his face with the other hand.

"How do you feel?" she asked him, fear still audible in her voice. Damon, who was lying propped on his elbows, tried hard to remain in this position, anxious not to lose that feeling of her hand on his face. He was well aware that things between the both of them had changed during the last few hours. Only he could not in the slightest predict what this would mean for the future he suddenly - and unexpectedly from his part – had gained. He couldn't tell whether the girl's hand on his face would be something repeated later or not, but he could tell that he would miss it the moment it was gone. Unfortunately the damned bite had weakened him to such an extent that his arms began to tremble and he fell on his back again. But – the hand stayed put.

"Better" he said. His voice was still low, but to Elena's relief it sounded stronger than a few minutes ago. Their gazes met, and she smiled.

"Do you need anything?"

Damon closed his eyes, briefly contemplating to take his chances to savor her do-gooder attitude, for once offered to him, a little longer; then deciding that it wouldn't do any harm, he looked into her eyes again, took a deep breath and said: "Would you just…stay a while?"

Her smile widened, and without thinking further she moved to slip onto the bed again, resting her head on his shoulder, still holding his hand, now lying in exactly the same position as before. And, like before, tears began to fall, leaving small wet stains on Damon's shirt. "You will live. I'm glad" she whispered

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"Jer!" Jeremy turned, but there was no one to be seen. So he turned back and his eyes widened in genuine surprise.

She stood just a few feet away from him. It wasn't possible. But she did. Damon had seen her dying months ago. John had driven a stake through her heart. It was not possible to survive that, and Damon had seen it. And he surely knew what he was talking about. However, she stood there and watched him.

Anna. Dead Anna. Uh…dead dead Anna.

He stared at her for a moment, then his brain booted up again. The voice he had heard hadn't been hers. He turned once again into the other direction and riiight…another dead girl stood there. Vicky. As dead as Anna. He himself had seen that Stefan had staked her to protect him and his sister. Yeah, okay, he didn't remember that, but Elena did. And Damon was he always involved with his dead girlfriends? had buried her. So they definitely were both dead. But nevertheless they both stood there in his hallway.

"Anna? Vicky?" he asked incredulous. Neither of them answered; instead a male voice came from the living room.

"Jeremy? Everything okay?"

"Uh…" Jeremy cast a glance to the door frame of the living room where Alaric was crashing on the couch.

Obviously not sleeping anymore in spite of the booze, clearly a sign of how worried he was about Jeremy's death-and-return, Ric stood up and went over to his dead girlfriend's nephew. "Jer?"

Jeremy looked around in the now completely girl-empty hallway.

"I'm fine. Just, uh, thirsty." He turned and went over to the kitchen, opened the fridge and took out a carton with orange juice. "Want some?"

When Ric nodded, he took two glasses from the cabinet, filled them with juice and reached one of them over to his…history teacher. They stood and drank in silence, until Jeremy came to a decision.

"Ric? Do you believe in ghosts?" he asked cautiously.

Alaric, who had been deep in thoughts about Jenna, jumped at that question. He contemplated for a moment.

"We live in Mystic Falls."

"Yeah."

Narrowing his eyes, Ric eyed Jeremy warily. "Have you seen one?"

"Actually two."

"Huh."

"Funny thing is… they are both ex-girlfriends of mine."

"Anna and…"

"Vicky."

"I wonder how Bonnie will feel about that."

Jeremy took a step closer. "Please, Ric, don't tell anybody." Alaric glanced at him and didn't say a word. Jeremy shifted, feeling uncomfortable about the thought of leaving this as a secret, and he knew exactly that Ric wouldn't like that either. But he could imagine all hell breaking loose if Bonnie, and even more Elena, was being told that he was haunted by his two exes. "At least not yet. Everyone deserves a break, Ric," he pleaded.

Alaric nodded, not knowing, of course, that all hell would break loose anyway.

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Damon woke up slowly. It took him a few moments to realize that it was no waking up as usual, even though he was lying in his bed as usual. And yet not as usual, because he wasn't lying here alone. The weight on his shoulders, the hand clutching his proved it. He wondered briefly who it could be, sharing his bed with him. And why. He shifted his head just enough to see, that it was – Elena. On his shoulder. Holding his hand. And then suddenly he remembered the night before and everything that had led to this night. Every single event concerning the sacrifice rushed back to his mind, and the memory brought guilt with it. But the miracle had happened, Elena had forgiven him. And she had kissed him. Granted, it was a deathbed kiss, and he could easily chalk that up to a gift for a dying man. Even if it was nothing more – and he had his doubts about that – after everything he had done to her, she had decided to stay with him, trying to comfort him and give him everything necessary to die in peace. And what was even more, she didn't leave after he had been cured either; instead, she actually came into his bed again. And he wasn't dying anymore.

Damon didn't dare to move. Closing his eyes again, he just enjoyed the heart warming feeling of Elena nestled up against him. He could have lied like this forever. Unfortunately, after way to short time, she shifted slightly, her breathing changed and a minute later she opened her eyes. She looked up at Damon's face, and their eyes met.

"Morning sunshine!" he smiled at her.

"Is it? Morning?" Elena yawned.

Damon nodded. "Looks like sun's coming up right now." Elena squeezed his hand gently. "How are you feeling now?"

"Hungry" he said.

Elena froze. Just for a split second, but of course Damon noticed all the same and frowned. Was she afraid of him? Why? She knew that he would never feed on her, didn't she? He gave her a puzzled look.

"Something wrong with that?"

"What? No! Nothing," she answered a little too quick, sat up and got off the bed. "I go and get you some blood bags, okay?" and with these words she hurriedly left the room. Damon watched her irritated, but decided to push that awkward feeling aside for now and focus on how he was really feeling physically. Not too bad anyway. The unbearable pain was gone. He tried to sit up, but his head started spinning immediately, so he let the thought of standing up drop and lay back again.

Instead he listened to the noises in the house, mainly Elena rummaging in the kitchen. One minute later she came back to his room, holding a tumbler where she had poured blood in. She sat down on his bed and placed the tumbler on the night stand. Damon began to sit up again, and like before his head started spinning, so like before he lay down again, groaning annoyed.

"What?" Elena gave him a worried look.

"It's nothing" he shrugged. She tilted her head aside, eyes wide with sorrow. "It's just…my head's spinning when I sit up" Damon admitted. He hated being weak like that. Then again…When Elena helped him to lift his head and shoved more pillows beneath to steady it, he couldn't avoid enjoying having her near, caring about him. Hell, he had nearly died; he deserved to feel a bit weak if it included having this beautiful caring nurse by his side.

When he reached for the tumbler, he noticed that it was warm.

"You warmed it up?" he asked her stunned. Right, he had heard the 'bing' of the microwave, but hadn't thought about it.

"Of course, you prefer it like this, don't you?" She looked a little insecure about his reaction. He gazed at her for a long moment and got a warm feeling around his heart.

"Thanks" he then simply said and began to drink the blood. Elena watched him until the tumbler was empty. Then she grabbed it from his hand, put it back on the nightstand and reached for his left hand.

"Show me…" she demanded. He tucked up the sleeve, and both stared at the place the horrible wound had been at a few hours ago. Now all that was left was a slightly discolored skin, just a shimmer of red. Elena let out a breath she hadn't been aware that she was holding. Carefully she touched the healed skin with her fingertips and smiled at him. Damon took her hand in his right hand, placed a gentle kiss on it and lifted his eyes to meet hers. He wanted to tell her so many things; how grateful he was that she had found him; that she had been willing to share his last moments with him, knowing the danger she put herself in; the extent of relief he had been feeling when she forgave him; the delight he felt right now, because she was still here, still caring about him; but despite the length of his feelings he would like to express, all he managed to say in a hoarse voice were two little words. Yet, he could see it in her eyes, she understood.

"Thank you."

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Caroline watched her mother leaving the Grill. She felt exhausted. For hours they'd been talking. She had been talking; her mom mostly had just been listening, only asking a question for better understanding from time to time. Liz had been very quiet, but she never had been a woman of many words anyways. Caroline on the other hand definitely was a girl of many words; so tonight they had been the perfect pair. She surely had forgotten about some details, but the most important facts had been told. Now she only could hope that her mother would come around, but Liz had assured her that Caroline could trust her. And Caroline did so. She wanted to trust her mother. She was so tired of lying and hiding.

Caroline checked her cell phone for news about Damon, but there were none. She really hoped that Stefan would find a cure; Damon had changed during the last months, she actually almost liked him; and she knew how important he was for Elena. She above all didn't deserve losing another person.

Not to mention that he'd been saving her life when he got bitten by Tyler.

She downed her drink, took her purse and left. She didn't want to go home now, so she walked through the night. She hadn't been aware of where she was walking, until she found herself standing in front of the Lockwood mansion. She looked up at the window of Tyler's room and found it open. And suddenly she knew, this was exactly what she needed.

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Damon had showered and put on a fresh buttoned shirt and dark jeans. His head was not spinning anymore, but he still felt weak. He didn't want to admit it, but Elena knew it all the same and didn't want to leave him alone while he showered, so she had changed the sheets on his bed to have an excuse for staying in his room.

Now they were sitting on the sofa in the parlor in front of the fireplace. He'd had two more blood bags and was now downing his second bourbon. He grabbed her feet and placed them on his lap. He felt strong enough now to take matters in his hands, and so he said out loud what both of them were thinking of all along: "I'll find him."

"No" Elena said firmly, "we will find him, Damon. No way in hell you try to do anything on your own."

Damon let out a sigh. "Look Elena" he said, "I understand that you'd do everything to get Stefan back, but I'm not willing to let you put yourself in danger anymore. With everything going on, it was unavoidable that you were involved and in danger the whole time. You survived, thank god, and for you it's over now."

Elena felt anger rising up in her throat, but she swallowed it down. "No, Damon, you don't understand. I am still involved. It's my boyfriend, and you are my friend. If you go all on your own trying to rescue him and you die…what will be left for me then?" She paused briefly. "I don't have a death wish and I won't go on any suicide mission. I don't want to be the one who's calling the shots. I want us to work together, figure something out to save Stefan together. I even want to ask the others for help too, although I know I put them in danger. I know it will be a difficult task to find and save Stefan, and you and I need all the help we can get. I know they wouldn't stay away from that mission anyway, just like I wouldn't. And for anyone it's much safer to work in a team than to work alone. So, no, you will not do it on your own, Damon. You're stuck with me in this."

He held her gaze, contemplating what she had just said. He knew she was right; there was no way to avoid danger. Saving Stefan meant standing against the mightiest being that ever had walked the earth. Even if they worked all together, they would be ridiculously outnumbered. Stubborn as she was, Elena would go with or without him; and if she was with him, he could at least protect her.

He took a deep breath and asked: "Who should we call first then?"