Author's Note:
Oh goodness. I have way too many unfinished projects and I am very very sorry. Stopped writing for awhile. Then this popped into my head and would not leave. I hope you enjoy - it's just a two-parter (both parts are done) so there's no worries about me abandoning it. Makes reference to episode 302 and 303, so please don't read if you don't want to be spoiled!
Please note the Mature Rating, kay? ;)
He never could remember that punching a wall as a vampire caused distinctly more damage than as a human.
Staring at the fist-sized hole, the plaster coating the hardwood floors in dust, Damon gave it one last glare before shaking his head and moving to the bar shelf.
As he took a long drink, he closed his eyes, the screams still echoing in his head, the terror in her voice evident, the pitiful way she'd crumbled after the rescue running through his mind, an endless loop, over and over.
"Come on, Caroline, snap out of it!" Damon tried not to focus on the burns that weren't healing, the blood congealed on her face, in her hair. The bastard had been starving her so that the torture wouldn't stop, so that she'd be in constant pain. His jaw tightened as she made something close to a whimper and huddled even closer to the floor.
And then he stiffened, instantly aware of another presence in the room. A presence he had specifically threatened bodily harm to if she followed him.
But when had that ever stopped her before?
He sped over to her so quickly that she, no stranger to his speed and temper, took a step back. Her eyes pleaded up at him, filling with tears, and he knew she'd already seen the pain her friend was in, the evidence of the torture, and the man's body lying across the floor, neck neatly broken.
He opened his mouth, but before he could say one word, one scathing, scolding line to make her leave this place, she wordlessly held up three blood bags.
He stopped, stared at her for a moment. She was forcing the tears to not fall, and he actually could see the resolve in her face.
He shook his head, took the blood, but before walking back to Caroline, put up one finger, and leaned close, eyes boring into hers. As always, he heard her pulse scramble. As always, he ignored it.
"Do not move from this spot, Elena," he growled. "I mean it. She is out of it. You do not want to be close if she smells all that fresh blood running through your veins."
Elena swallowed, nodded, never taking her eyes from his.
Satisfied, he turned back to the broken figure on the floor, ripping open the first bag with one hand, and with the other, touching Caroline's shoulder lightly.
When she shuddered at his touch, he fought the urge to throw the blood against the wall. Instead, he smoothed his hand over her shoulder, cupped her neck, and turned her slightly so that she could drink.
The initial sip made her eyes flare, and she hesitated before drinking again.
"Goddammit, Caroline," he snapped when she stopped again just after he opened the third bag. "You know you need this, and I don't know what your problem is, but open your mouth and swallow. Now."
She gave the faintest smile and finished the blood bag. He smiled back at her, pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head and whispering, "Not the first time you've heard that, huh?"
She smiled again, shoved at him lightly, but the anguish remained in her eyes.
He chuckled and glanced up. Elena had finally listened to him, for once, and stood in the same spot, staring at him speculatively. She made no move to come closer yet, just looked at him with that confused, thoughtful look on her face.
"Oh, God," Caroline moaned, distracting him. She clutched at his arm, struggled to crawl toward the body on the floor.
"He's dead," Damon said flatly, and she clapped a hand over her mouth, shaking her head in disbelief.
He looked at Elena again. "What the hell is her problem?" But Elena was crying again, and moved past him to cradle Caroline, who was sobbing on the floor next to the body.
"It's her father, Damon," she whispered, as she gathered Caroline in her arms, rocking gently on the cold cement floor.