It had been exactly twenty-three thousand, three hundred and three days since Elena Gilbert had said goodbye to her friends, her brother, and the siblings Damon and Stefan Salvatore. Twenty-three thousand, three hundred and three days since Damon had seen her smile and felt her touch, or looked into her beautiful chestnut eyes.
Yet, it had only been moments since the passing of his best friend Bonnie Bennett. She lived a long and fulfilling life alongside Matt Donovan, whom Damon could tell was perhaps reaching his last days also. Although he would die before admitting it, it was painful watching his human friends grow old and fragile and weak, and even more painful watching Bonnie wither away.
Damon had suspected that he would spend his years without Elena counting down every breath that Bonnie took, but somehow he hadn't been able to. Instead he found himself smiling when she did, fond of seeing her happiness with Matt, their children and their grandchildren. That serenity only lasted so long though; he knew when the end was nearing. He could hear her heart faltering, struggling to keep up its steady rhythm.
All of them—Caroline, Matt, Stefan, Tyler and Damon himself—were with her when it happened, holding her hands and weeping and praying for her to whatever God their might be. It was an odd scene—four immortal, young-looking teenagers and an elderly man cradling his wife as she fell asleep soundlessly, but Damon only had one person on his mind, as important as Bonnie was.
Turning to him with tears dripping down his cheeks, Matt smiled gently, his frail hands wrapped around Bonnie's. "Go." He whispered tiredly, the dark circles under his eyes hanging like ghouls that had stolen the twinkle from his eyes. "Be there when she wakes up."
The room was silent aside from Caroline's quiet sobs, and Damon felt such powerful pain for the loss of his friend that he almost stayed.
Almost.
Until he pictured his beloved Elena waking up in her crate without him, staring into the blackness as she waited for her freedom.
She'd been waiting twenty-three thousand three hundred and three days, which according to Damon, was long enough. He stood quietly and without a fuss and locked Matt into a small embrace.
"Thank you." Damon whispered. Nobody watched him as he left, which he was grateful for, as he had to wipe the glint of a tear from his own eye, willing himself not to look back at the house and Bonnie. Instead, he focussed on the task at hand and the prospect of seeing Elena again, adrenaline coursing through his veins in excitement.
He ran towards the hiding spot in the old Salvatore crypt, stopping only to jump onto the ledge of the bell-tower and make sure that there were no unwanted visitors lurking around the Mystic Falls graveyard. Most of the drama had eased off of Mystic Falls while Elena had been sleeping, and Damon had spent little time here, choosing instead to roam the world and find ways to pass the years. He came back every so often to check in with his little brother and friends, but they were happy and safe for the most part. The vampire's had all had to skip town eventually so that no one grew suspicious of them, but they had just moved back to start anew again.
Stefan and Caroline had been together for the better part of thirty years, and they took great delight in babysitting Bonnie and Matt's children, and eventually, grandchildren. Damon didn't care much for helping change the diapers or feed the children though; it was less than pleasant for him to see all that he wanted with Elena but couldn't give to her.
The Donovan's were the only humans who knew of Stefan, Caroline, Tyler and Damon's vampirism—it was a sort of family secret that had been passed down the generations. The children knew that they didn't age and drank blood, but they also knew that they were sworn to secrecy. Surprisingly, it worked well.
Damon glided through the air and back onto the ground, running as quiet as a whisper towards the crypt. He pulled open the door, snapping the deadlock in half in the process, and walked slowly into the cave-like room.
There, in the very centre of the space, was the crate and, more specifically, Elena. Bonnie had hidden the coffin with a spell, but now that she had gone, the box could be seen in plain sight.
With steady hands Damon pulled the small golden key from his pocket; the one had his fingers had not unwrapped from in decades. It was the day. Finally.
Twisting the key until the lock clicked, Damon placed the lock gently on the floor and braced himself before opening the lid of the coffin.
Elena.