Welcome to my own little world of crazy! First off, the summary is not as descriptive as it should be...there's a whole lot more to this story! :) I have no beta...so any mistakes are my own...and there are a few...I proofread a bajillion times but I tend to miss stuff still. Also, this chapter is super short...the rest are definitely wordier. If this first chapter doesn't grab you...try the second (it just might!) Without further ado...read on fellow Delena fans.

Elena heard the whispers. She ignored them. Small towns meant everything turned into big news. Nothing was sacred. "I heard she cheated on him." "No! I heard he cheated on her!" There were others as well. Drugs. Rumors he hit her. Rumors she hit him. Trash. All of it. If only they knew the real reason.

Psychotic vampire werewolf hybrid enslaved her boyfriend. That was the real reason.

She held her head high and pushed through the double doors. She didn't even know why she was here. She should be out searching for him. She was the reason he was out there. If she hadn't been the doppelganger, if Stefan hadn't pulled her from the car, she wouldn't have lived and he wouldn't have come back to Mystic Falls.

Digging in her purse for her keys she didn't notice the tall, dark figure leaning against her car.

He frowned when he saw the circles under her eyes. Dammit, she had to start taking better care of herself. He made a mental note to find a way to help or make her sleep.

"There's concealer for bags, you know." Snarky comments got her back up, made her fight.

She looked up, surprised to find him there.

"Damon!" Her eyes lit up, and his undead, unbeating heart fluttered. She looked around quickly, "Any leads? Did you find him? Where have you been?" Disappointment flitted across his face, but he expected nothing less. Of course she wanted to know about Stefan. He held up one hand.

"Easy there, Gilbert. Get in, I'm taking you for food. Then we'll talk." He deftly snatched her keys from her hand. She opened her mouth to protest, and he placed his index finger over her lips. "Nope. Elena, seriously. After you eat. You look like death warmed over." She squinted her eyes at him. He squinted right back. Cupping her elbow firmly, he escorted her around the Ford Escape opened the car door helped her in and shut it smartly behind her.

"I-"

"Elena! I have lived, breathed, not slept everything Stefan Salvatore for the last two weeks on the road. I promise to tell you everything, but please, please give me 30 minutes of your pleasant company before we rehash the past 14 days of the driving, drinking, compelling, chasing madness. Okay?" At her stiff nod, Damon pushed the power button on the radio and started singing. "All my single ladies, all my single ladies, all my single ladies, all my single ladies. Put your hands-What?" Elena was staring at him, mouth open.

"Beyonce. Really?" She asked, a slight smirk spreading on her beautiful face. Finally, a sign of life.

"It's your iPod, sweetheart."

"You're a freak." Elena told him, shaking her head.

"In many, many ways." He grinned and waggled his eyebrows at her. "Care to discover some others?" She huffed, crossed her arms and looked out the window. "Admit it, Elena."

"What?" She continued to stare out the window, not wanting him to see the light that had undoubtedly returned to her eyes. It may not be shining as bright as before but it was better now that he was home. And she didn't dare reveal it. Unbeknownst to her, he already knew.

"You missed me." He skipped to the next song, not expecting an answer but hearing one anyway. One he was sure, without his vampire hearing he never would have picked up.

"I did." Well, he'd be damned. Twice.

Popping his last French fry in his mouth, he washed it down with a swig of beer. She sat across from him, glaring. "If looks could kill," He murmured, taking another drink. He raised his bottle, catching the waitress' eye. She nodded and he set it back down.

"Are you done yet?" She growled.

"Yes. But you aren't. You haven't touched your pasta." He pointed at her plate. "Eat." Too bad she was wearing her necklace, he thought. Or he'd compel her to eat, if only it were that fucking simple. She picked up her fork, and poked around. She took a bite and chewed. "Now swallow." He said condescendingly. She did.

"Asshole." She snarled, taking another bite. Then another. By the time his beer arrived her plate was half empty. She needed to eat, she was too fucking skinny. She worried too much about Saint Stefan. Saint Stefan who was currently not so saintly. No, Saint Stefan was blazing across the continental states leaving a path of drained, tattered bodies in his wake. The Ripper was back, and Damon wasn't sure they could stop him. How could he tell Elena her boyfriend was a maniacal murderer bent on destroying the very part of him she loved? He stared into the fire, recalling the last few days with utter dread. He didn't want to tell her about the last family he found. Or what Stefan did to them. Even Damon in his worst monster moments wouldn't slaughter children.

Her fork clattered on her plate, forcing him to snap out of his thoughts. "Satisfied?" She asked. Her plate was clean, her arms were crossed again and she was staring him down. Again.

"Not even close," He murmured seductively, "But if you'd like a few pointers I'd be more than happy-hey!" She chucked her garlic bread at him. He laughed heartily. "Oh, Gilbert how I've missed you." The waitress came to take their plates away and Damon frowned under her intense gaze. He might as well get this over with. "It's bad, Elena." He told her. "Are you sure you want to discuss it here?" She swallowed visibly, and his eyes softened. "Are you sure you want to know, period?" She reached for his hand and gripped it. It was his turn to swallow. He stared down at their joined hands. He lived for her voluntary touches. He ran his thumb over her knuckles.

"I can handle it." She breathed softly. He nodded. Without breaking eye contact, he recounted the last few weeks for her, state by state, city by city, summarizing the attacks quickly, not dwelling on the horrid details. She didn't need to know all the gory details a Ripper could and would manage. Tears swelled in her eyes and he wished he could save her from this knowledge. But if there was one thing he always gave her, it was the truth. When he had finished, she finally looked away to compose herself. He released her hand to slide out of the booth and moved over to her side. Without saying anything, he pulled her into her arms and she went willingly. She sniffled once, and stayed where she was for a long time.

With her head resting against his chest, he lightly brushed his hands over her hair as he sat there staring again into the fire blazing in the fireplace. He savored these moments. Truly he did. "Thank you." She whispered finally.

"For what?" He asked, still stroking her hair.

"For telling me the truth."

"Always." She pulled away slowly, and stared up at him.

"So what happens now?"

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingered on her face. "It's up to you, Elena. If you want me to keep chasing him, I will. But, he's gone off the deep end. It took Lexi months, years to bring him back from the edge, and that was without Klaus' influence." He told her honestly. The waitress walked over then bringing Damon the check. He handed her his Black AmEx without taking his eyes off Elena. "Want me to take you home?" He asked her softly. She shook her head.

"No, I don't want to be alone." After signing the receipt, Damon slid out of the booth and offered her his hand. She placed her hand in his and scooted out behind him. He walked out, her trailing not far behind him still holding his hand.