A/N: This is just drabble, but I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, and the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. No copyright infringement intended.


'It's the price I guess, for the lies I've told'


"I'm Special Agent Williams and I'll be conducting the investigation into the attempted murders of decorated soldier Robert Stonebridge and CEO of Salvatore Corporations Damon Salvatore," the suited man said, confidently walking into the small interrogation room.

Taking a seat, he looked at the young, beautiful brunette who was staring vacantly at one of the metal walls in the room, her head turned away from him. Her dainty wrists were in handcuffs that were attached to the solid metal table, ensuring that she couldn't move.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asked firmly.

He received no response, no signs of acknowledgement of his mere presence as she continued to stare at the wall.

"Miss Pierce, do you want to tell me what happened?" he repeated with an edge to his voice.

No response.

He opened the brown file that he'd brought into the interrogation room with him and pulled out two pictures.

Throwing them down on the table, he said, "Look at them."

She didn't, only blinking as she continued to stare at the wall impassively.

"I said, look at them," Williams growled.

He counted to ten in his head, before his rage took over and he slammed his fist down the table.

"Dammit, look at what you did to those men!" he demanded.

She blinked again, ignoring the man's obvious rage.

"Fine, I'll have to describe them to you," Williams bit out.

"Robert Stonebridge, 44 years old, served 8 years with the British National Intelligence," he began.

Stabbing his finger at the picture, he raised his voice as he said, "Robert Stonebridge, the man who is now paralysed from the waist down because of the knife that you rammed into his back."

Elena Pierce wasn't listening to him or the words that were pouring out of his mouth. If she had been listening, she would've told the man that his facts were incorrect.

Jonathan Pierce. 44 years old, served 8 years with the British National Intelligence until he was dishonourably discharged due to recklessly endangering –and ending- the lives of his unit. He was given the new identity of 'Robert Stonebridge' to enable him to restart his life outside of the National Intelligence. He joined the local police station and eventually became a corrupt cop.


"What have you got for me, Agent Rees?" The Assistant Director asked. He rarely did the dirty work on cases, but orders from the top meant that he had to oversee the entire investigation into what happened to Damon Salvatore.

"I can't access any of Robert Stonebridge's files in regards to his service with the British Intelligence. There are no records of family, previous work, schools he attended… It's like he didn't exist until the 1990s."

"The British have probably buried his files then," The Assistant Director deduced. Standing on the other side of the one-way mirror, he was able to watch the interrogation take place without being seen by anyone in the room; even Special Agent Williams didn't know that he was watching.

He could tell that the brunette wasn't actually in the room; her body was, but her mind was in a completely different place as the agent questioned her.

"Shit," the man muttered, knowing that they had barely made any headway with the case so far.

"Damon Salvatore, 32 years old, the CEO of the transnational corporation Salvatore Inc."

Williams picked up the picture and momentarily paused as he surveyed it; the photograph was of poor quality due to one of the first officers on the scene using their phone to take it; moments later the paramedics arrived and rushed the tortured man to hospital. The agent standing next to The Assistant Director audibly swallowed back bile as he saw the image. How the man in the photograph was still alive, he didn't know. The image was horrific, the things that were done to Damon Salvatore unimaginable… excruciating agony not even covering the pain that he must've experienced.

Still looking at the picture, Williams began to describe it, "Mr Salvatore, the man who you tortured; the man who's currently in major surgery and barely hanging onto his life by a thread."

"You can leave, Agent Rees," The Assistant Director instructed, watching Miss Pierce with a cool regard as Special Agent William's continued describing the horrifying details of what had taken place just hours ago.

"His hands were tied with barbed wire, piercing his wrists and shredding his skin. His ankles had been tied to the legs of a wooden chair with the same wire, slicing his skin. There's a pool of water surrounding him from the multiple times that he'd been water boarded-"

As William's said the latter sentence, the brunette visibly flinched and a moment of sheer agony flashed across her face. William's obviously caught the millisecond of emotion that was displayed as he pressed forward with his description.

"His face is dripping with blood, his jaw fractured from a crow bar being swung."

Miss Pierce flinched again.

The Assistant Director's gaze flickered down to her hands that were mostly concealed by her jumper sleeves; however he'd watched her be led into the interrogation room and seen her hands which were bloodied, broken and bruised; another piece of evidence against the young woman.

"Five of his ribs were broken; his chest covered in bruises where he'd been beaten with the crow bar Miss Pierce."

Williams leaned forward, whispering confidently, "What I want to know though is how you got him there in the first place. Mr Salvatore's a strong and healthy man, there's not a chance in hell that you could've subdued him. Unless of course, you seduced him…"

There was no response from her after he said that, so he continued down the route of describing the image in all its gory detail.

"His torso is drenched in blood from the multiple stabs wounds that were inflicted on him. He was stabbed over and over again by the same knife that was used to paralyse Mr Stonebridge." She swallowed heavily as he said that and clearly pleased that he was evoking a reaction from the stoic brunette, Williams raised his voice as he carried on.

"His leg was broken in multiple places where the impact of the crow bar caused his bones to shatter! A soaked towel and six empty one-gallon water containers were discarded after he'd been drowned and revived for the last time. We found him with a piece of cloth wrapped around his mouth which stopped him from making any sound as each horrific act of violence was carried out on him…"

The brunette's body did not move or betray any of her thoughts or feelings; except her eyes. Large, chocolate doe eyes filled with tears that The Assistant Director watched fall as Williams spoke vehemently about the torture that Damon Salvatore had endured.

On the other hand, the lack of reaction that she'd had to Robert Stonebridge's injuries indicated that Miss Pierce felt no guilt, no remorse; she felt nothing in regards to the fact that he was now paralysed.

And to The Assistant Director, that meant that Miss Pierce loathed Robert Stonebridge.

And that gave Miss Pierce motive.


"That's enough Agent Williams," The Assistant Director's voice came through in Williams' earpiece, signalling the end of the first interrogation of Miss Pierce.

Elena was thankful when the Special Agent had stopped talking. She didn't need to hear anything else about what had happened to Damon; however she was desperate to hear anything about what was happening to him now.

I'm so sorry.

Please survive.

I'm so sorry.

For everything.

Please survive.

They were the words that she'd been repeating over and over in her head. Everything that had happened to Damon was her fault.

Everything.

She knew that she was going to be severely punished for all the crimes that they were accusing her of. The only one that she was actually guilty of was stabbing John and she would never regret that.

Elena knew that she could try to defend herself, but she couldn't think of reason as to why she should. John was paralysed; he could never lay a hand on anyone ever again. And even if she were to fight for her innocence, that would involve dragging Damon into the fight with her. The thought of him being put up on a stand and being interrogated and cross examined just to point the blame away from her... being forced to recount his own torture in detail to a group of strangers just to prove that she wasn't the one who actually carried out all the horrific acts on him...

The sickening, terrifying thing was that she was the reason that a knife had pierced his body and shredded his internal organs. She was the reason that he'd been drowned over and over again. She was the reason that his life had been shattered.

She was guilty of every charge. There was no 'innocence' for her to fight for.

So all she could do was pray to some higher power and hope and against hope that Damon would survive the surgery. That he'd survive and then he'd live, because he was Damon. He had to survive.

The other option was unthinkable.

Elena didn't care what lay ahead for her; she just needed him to survive everything and live.

The man who had attempted to murder him was paralysed from the waist, the one who was the reason that someone had even tried to murder him was being brought to justice; Jonathan and Elena Pierce would never be able to destroy Damon Salvatore's life again.

Elena had no idea what would happen to her now. She didn't have the energy to analyse the recent events or think of what evidence John had left behind or what traces of DNA were lying around or...

None of it mattered. Despite all of her desperate attempts, she'd failed Damon; she'd destroyed Damon.

That one thought caused Elena's heart to shred apart.

She couldn't physically bring herself to move in that moment. There was too much mental and physical pain coursing through her and ironically she was the one who felt paralysed. Sat in a small, metal interrogation room, handcuffed to a steel table, she realised that she'd lost everything. For one moment, Elena wanted to scream, to cry and ask whoever was listening what she'd ever done to deserve all of the fucked up things that life had thrown at her; the things that had turned her into this toxic person who managed to sabotage anything good that she came into contact with. She wanted to ask what Damon had done to deserve ever coming into contact with someone as destructive as her...

And John...

The main 'thing' that life had launched at her, who had caused an unquantifiable amount of pain and horror was escaping. His only payment was his ability to walk; he still had his life, which he could live. The injustice of it all…

Elena felt like being violently ill as everything that she'd managed to achieve flashed before her eyes; everything that had been ripped away from her in the space of a few days.

How had it all ended up like this?

Three years ago, Elena's plane had landed in New York and she'd been ready to try and start to live without the shadows of her past hanging over her. If there were no shadows, there were no reminders of how fucked up she was and she'd be able to breathe. All she'd ever wanted was freedom from those shadows; she hadn't expected friendship, happiness… anything...

Then, she'd met Damon and somehow he'd managed to make her want more. He'd made her want to live life. He'd given her hope. He'd given her happiness. And finally, he'd given her his heart.

Just one week ago, Damon Salvatore had said the three words that no-one had ever said to her before and meant it.

If he'd said them one day earlier than that, those three words would've changed Elena forever.

Except Damon hadn't said them one day earlier; a different man had said different words to Elena that day, shattering every piece of hope and happiness that had ever resided within her.

And then Elena had run to the source of her hope and happiness for one final time, unaware that he'd say the three words that would break her in that moment; and in turn, break him.


One Week Ago

"I…" Damon murmured, rousing Elena from her sleep.

She turned around to face him, her chocolate curls cascading across the pillow. She opened her eyes, chocolate orbs hazy with sleep as she looked at the profile of the man who'd just woken her. Taking in his handsome features, immediately noticing how troubled - conflicted - he was, her eyes opened wider in apprehension.

"What's wrong?" Elena whispered back, concern now etched across her face. He turned to look at her and she gasped when she saw tears glistening in his eyes. She had never seen him look at her with such emotion, had never seen water pool in those cerulean blue eyes. Her anxiety increased. Not now, he couldn't cry in front of her now.

He inhaled jaggedly, closing his eyes before she felt his hand find hers beneath the silken sheets. She squeezed his hand lightly, trying desperately to give him any comfort that she could. Any comfort that she could offer him for the last time.

When he opened his eyes again, he spoke softly.

"I love you."

Elena took in a sharp breath, pain warping her own beautiful features.

"No…" She whispered to herself, her voice barely audible; however she realised he'd heard it when she saw a single tear rolled down his cheek, a glistening trail left in its wake.

Oh God, he couldn't say those words now. Was this some sick joke that God was playing on them? On her?

If he'd said those three words to her any other day but today, she would've broken down in his arms. Her final wall of defence that surrounded her heart would've crumbled to the ground. All of her deep insecurities and fears she'd buried for over a decade would've rushed to the surface, causing her to tell him the truth about the girl he 'loved'. She would've divulged all of her secrets. She would've told him about her dark past, would've let him be the first person to see how truly damaged she was.

And then at the end of it all, if he was still holding her, if he could still say that he loved her, she would've told him that he meant everything to her; because then he'd understand that that was her fucked up way of telling him that she loved him with all of her broken, shattered heart.

He'd said them today though, so she couldn't collapse in his embrace. She had to leave and reject his heartbreakingly beautiful admission of love.

"I- I have to go." She quickly got out of the bed, finding her discarded jeans on the floor and pulling them on before buttoning up the John Varvatos shirt she was already wearing. It was the shirt that she had claimed to be her own after he had caught her wearing it so many times he'd simply let her keep it.

Damon remained lying down as she moved, slowly sitting up as she'd finished buttoning the shirt.

"Where are you going?" His voice sounded scratchy as he asked her a question which she didn't have an answer for.

"Out. I have to leave," she replied vaguely. It was true though; she had to leave soon if she had any chance of not breaking down in front of him. If she stayed, she wouldn't be able to leave and she couldn't risk that; she couldn't risk endangering his life any more than she already had.

Oh God, she thought as Damon looked so vulnerable. The most beautiful sight she'd ever seen… she longed to stay and hold him, kiss him…

She couldn't though, because he didn't know who he was opening his heart to, he didn't know that she was leaving because she'd already endangered his life. She didn't deserve to be within a 1000mile radius of such a beautiful man, let alone be on the receiving end of such a perfect declaration of love.

"What? Why?" Damon asked and his voice filled with a blend of shock and confusion.

"You don't know what you're saying. You don't-" He cut her off before she could even try to complete the sentence.

"I know what I am saying, dammit!" His voice was raised and as he shouted, his voice cracked, betraying the maelstrom of emotions that he was feeling.

"You don't! You can't-" She choked on the word. "You just can't. Now I have to leave." With that, she took a deep breath and began striding toward the door of his bedroom. Just as her hand touched the cold metal of the door handle a much larger hand came to rest on the mahogany door, applying enough pressure to stop her from throwing it open and running. No. She had to go now because otherwise…

No, she couldn't think about 'otherwise'.

Fuck, she thought, cursing herself. She shouldn't have let herself be drawn in by him in the first place. She should've walked in the other direction at the first chance she had, instead she allowed him to get close to her, closer than any other person had ever been to her until she found herself in way too deep- unable to walk away. Now she had to run to save him from herself. She was toxic, poisonous… if only she hadn't forgotten that that was a fact.

She began to pull on the handle, ignoring the shivers that ran through her body by being so close to him. Both her hands grasped the handle, pulling with all her strength to open the damned door and she began begging him to let her go.

He stayed behind her, motionless as she tried to run from him and Elena just wished she had time to tell him why. She didn't have the luxury of time though. At that thought, her attempts became more frantic, pulling and pulling despite the fact that the mahogany door did not even move as his single palm pressed against it was stronger than all of her strength combined.

She became increasingly angered by her futile attempts. She was doing this for him! Why couldn't he let her just go? (She had to ignore the selfish part of her that revelled in someone fighting for her for the first time, someone who wasn'twilling to let her go.) Her hands became fists as she took out her overwhelming torrent of emotions on the wood in front of her.

DAMN HIM, she cursed over and over in her head. Every fucking moment of pure happiness, was ruined because of her own flesh and blood.

She should be running into Damon's arms, not away from them; but she had to run from Damon now, to save him from the man that had destroyed her from the inside out; the man that was capable of doing the same to Damon.

Elena couldn't let that happen.

Letting Damon go though… It felt like her pathetic, fragmented heart was being ripped into even smaller pieces.

Elena had never lost it like this in front of Damon, but she no longer cared about dignity or beauty or normalcy; nothing except Damon's safety mattered anymore.

Her hands began to hurt, the skin of her knuckles splitting as she put everything she had into striking the door. Blood began to seep into her new wounds, but she didn't notice, having endured far more pain than this before.

Her punches began to cease as the emotional turmoil weakened her until a strangled sob left her lips. She pivoted to face him with her gaze anywhere but his eyes. They were oceans. Gorgeous, infinite pools of cerulean blue and she knew that she would lose herself in their swirling depths. She couldn't afford to, for his sake.

"Please…"

"Why? Why are you like this?" He asked her, despair lacing his words. She shook her head, a broken look on her face that mirrored the one that he was wearing minutes ago.

"You can't-" She choked again. He couldn't love her. If he knew the whole truth, he wouldn't love her. Elena had never said the word 'love' in this context before and she kept choking on the word. Any other day and she would've told him her dark, horrific story and opened herself up for rejection or acceptance. Now, she was remembering the fact that she didn't even deserve the chance to be fully accepted –fully loved- by anyone.

He laughed a bitter, disgusted laugh. "I can't what, Elena?"

She decided then and there that she never wanted to hear someone say her name like that again; so caustic, so angry, so abhorred.

"I can't love you?" He snapped. "Well too fucking late!" She flinched, pressing herself further against the door.

He stepped back, shaking his head in an incredulous way, the low laugh that held no mirth echoing in the room again.

"You can't even say the word, can you? God… I thought I was emotionally stunted, but you, you're something else!" He's hurt, he's lashing out now, Elena reminded herself. If only he knew that she was the complete opposite, she felt too much.

If she felt just a tiny little bit less, she'd leave now.

Instead Elena continued to watch him glare at her, his icy gaze penetrating her. She'd done this to him. She shouldn't have even come here in the first place. It was too selfish.

She'd wanted a goodbye, just one last chance to touch him, kiss him… be with him before she left.

Her selfishness had meant that he'd hurt even more now.

He looked so lost in his own tornado of emotions and thoughts as he stood still, his entire body tensed and every muscle coiled. She knew that'd he'd never looked more beautiful though, the moonlight illuminating his sculpted, naked body and his eyes burning with an awe-inspiring intensity.

"I'm an idiot. For one second I thought I could say that and you wouldn't just run. Stupid. Fucking. Idiot." She cringed at his crude language, looking at her feet in shame. Once his rant was over, she'd leave and never look back. He could go back to living his life, find someone worthy of him and be happy. She'd fade into the background, a faint memory of a girl he used to know. Elena mentally nodded to herself, desperately trying to believe that that would work. It had to.

"Of course I should've known though, right? I mean, all you do is run. Hell, you ran from your own family!" Elena's head snapped up at that last sentence. He didn't just say that, did he? No… no-one could sink that low, could they? She didn't care at that moment what he was feeling, she was trying to do something she should've done a long time ago for him- walk away, but he'd gone there.

He was a few feet away from her, but within seconds she'd crossed that space and slapped him. Hard. His head whipped to the side, a red hand print visible on his left cheek as he slowly turned back to look at her. Fury blazed in his eyes, turning them a darker shade of blue. When he met her gaze, his expression softened. Elena could feel tears stinging her eyes, and she pressed her nails into the palms of her hands, betrayal burning her from within.

"I know you don't understand what I'm doing right now. Why I'm doing it… but I'm doing it for you. You don't really know who I am; I've only ever given you pieces of me. If I told you everything, I wouldn't be standing in front of you. But I'm selfish. I couldn't let you go, so I let you in. I let you…" Elena let out a shaky laugh that was filled with sadness. "I let you see a part of me no-one's ever seen before, and I told you about my brother. I told you! I told you in confidence, out of trust… If I'd known you would throw it back in my face so easily…" It was her turn to shake her head dejectedly.

His anger had visibly dissipated after he'd heard her words. He lifted his hand, reaching out to cup her face, craving contact with her. Elena let him cradle her face in the palm of his hand and going against everything she was trying to do, instinctively leant into his touch. He didn't realise that she felt like her heart was being ripped out of her chest too. He didn't know that her heart had already been shattered, now barely held together with her own tape and glue.

Elena knew that she couldn't tell him the main reason why she was leaving now, so she let her insecurities take over her. She let her fears and her guilt control what her next words were.

Opening his mouth to say something, he was cut off by her small, wavering voice.

"I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to walk away in the beginning... I'm broken. You don't want someone like me, you deserve someone that is good, that's not worthless… I'm sorry I stayed! I'm selfish, far too selfish." A traitorous tear ran down her face. Saying all these things aloud brought back so many tragic memories, compounding the pain she already felt from tonight.

"I'm leaving for you. You'll understand soon, Damon," she whispered.

Because you mean everything to me... were the words she left unsaid.

Elena gently placed both her hands upon the one he held to her face, his thumb soothingly caressing her cheek. She moved his hand away, breaking the contact and letting it go, so it fell limply to his side. Her feet carried her back to the door, her slightly bloodied hand pulling the door open. Turning her head to take one last look at the man that made her feel like love truly could exist, she murmured,

"Goodbye, Damon."


It hadn't been their last goodbye though… she'd seen him again.

She'd seen him in the one place that he should never have been in. The place that she'd tried to save him from. She'd willingly traded her life for the promise that Damon would never end up there.

John should've fucking killed her.

John should've kept his fucking word.

The monster…

As all of the thoughts and memories swirled within Elena, she stared at the wall. She'd ignored the Special Agent as she'd been drowning herself in self-loathing, but as soon as he'd begun to only talk about Damon, she'd listened.

She'd listened to the sickening, horrifying description of what John had done to the man who meant everything to her.

She'd listened to the torture that that man had gone through because of her.

Then the tears had begun to fall as her chest had constricted, her heart beating erratically while her entire body had felt like it was being torn apart. And now, although the tears had stopped, her heart still felt like it was going to implode at any second as her mind continued to reel.

The sound of the chair scraping back across the floor filled the small room as Special Agent Williams stood up.

She slowly turned her head to look at him, the movement surprising him.

Her neck ached from the simply manoeuvre. Her entire body hurt, throbbing in agony from the torture that she'd barely survived. Elena had become accustomed to passing out from sheer pain from a young age. She knew that she had a few seconds left of consciousness; it was all her body could take. Not that the Special Agent knew about the anguish she was in, mentally and physically...


The Assistant Director shoved a hand through his chestnut-coloured hair, trying to think about his next move.

Having given Special Agent Williams the order to leave the interrogation room, The Assistant Director was considering talking to Miss Pierce himself. If he could get a confession from her, it'd be enough to pin all the charges on her. Then the case would be closed and his boss would stop breathing down his neck to wrap up the disturbing and extremely sensitive case.

He began to walk towards the door, ready to exit the small viewing room.

"Shit!" the expletive came from inside the interrogation room and whirling around, The Assistant Director saw his agent launch forward to catch Elena Pierce as she suddenly lost consciousness and collapsed.


A/N: Review?