Elena finds him still passed out in his favorite spot in front of the Boarding House fireplace. Quiet music plays over hidden Bose speakers, and unopened bottle of whiskey is haphazardly tucked by his side, as if he had been too tired to even bother with it. Damon's hair is falling into his face and what's left of his shirt clings to his lean, muscular chest. It's so incredibly rare to find him asleep that she pauses to really look at him. The bruises and cuts have faded and healed but she was there and saw just how savage Klaus' latest plan to terrorize them all had been.
She should have never believed him when he said he was all right. Stubborn jerk.
Now, standing in front of Damon's collapsed form, shame starts to bubble up in her for being an unwilling participant in harming him in any way. He wouldn't have been hurt at all if it hadn't been for her. Wouldn't have had his bones be shattered over and over, or gone from smirky arrogance to dulled-eye acceptance.
A motley crew of emotions runs through her. They've been through so much in the last week- month- year. Frustration at it all eats at her. She's still angry with him for sleeping with Rebekah. He had seen her with Stefan- seen Stefan kiss her- but not her pushing Stefan away or telling him off in clenched teeth hissing tones. But she understands on some level- who knows better than her that an emotionally hurting Damon is almost never a rational one. Their fight about it had been fierce and ugly. Her pride had forced him to continue thinking that she wanted Stefan. He had stormed out. She had wanted to fix it but had been so sick with a hurt that she wasn't really entitled to, that she had let him go.
She hates feeling like a she has so little control of own life. She's long past wishing to be normal, and that too feels stifling. She's gotten stronger, true, but it's still not enough. She's still human, still so young. She hates knowing that Damon had willingly given himself up again to protect her even though they had barely spoken in the last two weeks. She hates that she had to see him broken over and over, and now practically unconscious from exhaustion.
She starts to wonder if she should just let him rest- let him continue to supernaturally heal- when he starts to stir. She moves to stand in front of him as his eyes open. He doesn't say anything, just looks up at her. The quiet surprise in his eyes nearly breaks her as she realizes that it hadn't occurred to him that she'd be there when he woke. She gives him a slight smile and reaches one hand down to cup his face as he sits up some.
"You ok?" Damon asks, his voice graveled and tired.
"Better than you I'm guessing," she tells him as she lets her thumb slowly stroke over his now healed cheekbone. She remembers how she had screamed when Klaus had shattered it, caving it in only hours before. How typical of him to ask about her wellbeing as opposed to his own.
When he closes his eyes and leans his face into the cup of her hand for the briefest of seconds, more than anything she hopes it gives him comfort. When he opens his eyes again and pulls away, she knows without a doubt she loves him. Somehow, impossibly, she loves him.
"I told you I was fine."
And he had hours ago, on her front porch, right before he left her there.
"Yeah, you did, didn't you?"
"Then why are you here?" Irritation is in his voice now. She knows that it's him trying to put some distance between them. She moves back as Damon stands up and walks closer to the fireplace. He tries to hide his wince as he pulls the shirt up and off- but she sees it. Concern mars her face and he turns away from her to toss the shirt into the fire. The fabric smokes and starts to catch quickly.
Damon puts an arm out and uses it to lean forward and prop himself against the fireplace. His head dips and he lifts his other hand to squeeze where his shoulder meets his neck. He looks like he is in so much pain. She's never seen him like this. It hurts her heart.
How many times has he been injured and never had anyone to help him?
Absolutely nothing can stop her from going to him and placing a hand on his naked back. He tenses and stills completely in the way that only vampires can. His skin in whole again- but she knows that only a few hours before, his ribs had ripped through his side and back. She smiles slightly at the fact that Damon Salvatore has freckles on shoulders and back.
She gently moves her hand over his back and up to his shoulder to touch his hand.
"Elena, you should go home."
She can't answer him. Her mind is filled of terrible thoughts of her life without him in it. No more late night talks, no more balance, no more shared responsibility, no more inappropriate gallows humor, no more flirty-eyes and dangerous temper. No more Damon, who always believed in her, who pushed her, who always tells her the truth, who protects her and puts her first.
No more broken, insecure, perfect Damon. She can't stand it. It would just be too much. Something like panic spurts through her joining into the chaotic mix of her emotions. Her jaw tightens. It takes everything she has to tap it all down. Everything suddenly is wrong side out and upside down and the only common denominator that seems to matter is that she almost lost Damon. That she may be losing him now- and that is just not possible.
"I should be with you." The truth is simple, and is out of her mouth before she even realizes it.
He turns then, and she watches, as his eyes flash with raw emotion before they fade and shut her out.
"You're hurting Damon."
"What's new?" He scoffs, "I'll deal. That's what I do."
Truer words, she thinks. It could go on like this for some time. This back and forth, or she could just out stubborn him. In the unreality of their day, the whirlwind of everything she feels, the only thing that makes sense is to comfort him- if he likes it or not.
Damon tries to move away, but she catches his arm before he can. He tries to stare her down, but she doesn't blink. Not this time. Not ever again. "Damn it Elena. What do you want from me?"
"I want five minutes." She wants more. She wants to make things right between them again. She wants to rebuild something stronger in the way that only comes after total destruction.
"Not tonight."
"Come on," she says, her tone bossy and confident, even though she doesn't feel that way. She slides her hand down and takes his wrist and tugs gently pulling him back to his chair, ignoring the initial resistance from him. "Sit. Five minutes."
He does, but she can tell he's not happy about it. For the first time, she's used their code against him. Five minutes. She's not going to waste it.
She stands in front of him again, this time between his opened legs. Before he can lean back, she reaches out and put both of her small hands on his shoulders and begins to rub. Her fingers are firm as they work the knots she finds there. His own hands fall to the arms of the chair.
"God damn it, Elena. What are you doing?" He growls out the question and closes his eyes again.
"I'm taking care of you," she says matter-of-factly. She keeps kneading his shoulders until his muscles start to loosen. Several songs come and go over the speakers and soon she's moving up his neck. She lets her fingers move into his hair, digging them into his scalp. It feels like triumph when his head falls forward and rests on her belly, just below her breasts. She feels Damon sigh. His arms come up and wrap around her waist. He pulls her in tightly and looks up at her. His face is not as guarded as it had been. He looks at her now as if she's a puzzle that he just can't figure out.
"You're killing me here."
Her fingers tighten in his hair and panicked censure creeps into her voice as she says, "Don't joke like that Damon. It's not remotely funny."
He gives her a tired half smirk, "It's a little funny."
To her horror, she feels the tears well up in her eyes, "I could have lost you today."
"It wouldn't have been a great loss."
"Yes. It would have. You've undone me. I don't think that I can be without you."
His arms grow slack and she realizes by the look that rushes over his face that she's completely caught him off guard. She takes that moment to bend down and kiss him. Within seconds his arms are tight around her again. His hands fist into her shirt desperately. It feels right and she feels grateful that's she's gotten this opportunity. It's as if a summer storm has rushed through her leaving everything bright and clean.
She kisses him until she can't breathe any more and pulls back. His eyes now hold a softness to them that she's so rarely seen. "What do we do now?" He asks quietly.
Elena smiles and moves a lock of hair off his forehead, "Now? You're going to let me continue to take care of you tonight." Because she can, she kisses him again, and then slips so she's behind him. He lets out a small groan as she starts to work on his back muscles.
Damon twists to look over his shoulder at her, "And tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow we'll probably fight because that's something we do, but then we'll figure out how to make this work for the both of us."
He turns back and lets her continue. Eventually, Damon reaches behind him and pulls around and onto his lap. He holds on to her as the music continues to play and the fire crackles until they both fall asleep.
