Damon Salvatore waited in the Hospital's foyer as he clenched and unclenched his desperate hands on repeat. His figure tensed every time a nurse passed him, fearing she'd be the one to deliver the news. It had to be good news, right? Damon had only been with Elena for a month yet he felt that if anything had happened to her he would fall apart.

To keep himself from barging into her hospital room and demanding if she was okay, if she was alive, he lay back in the frigid hospital chair and ran a trembling hand through the length of his hair. It had been recently cut due to Elena's persistence and he felt as if there were no longer enough hairs on his head to pull out in angst of her absence.
Her doe eyes flashed in his memory as he remembered how he had melted into them every time. Her usual need to care for the ill or tend to the sick, even when she had no clue of who they were.
When her symmetrical teeth lightened a room whenever her laugh was heard, or how perfect her delicate hand fitted into his.
How her lips seemed to be calved from the heavens just for him.
When she let her hair fall across her face whenever she felt embarrassed, or how she tended to tuck loose hair behind her ear with her pinky finger.
Memories flooded him until he had no choice but to shield his face in his hands as salty water began to sink across his dishevelled features.
It was then that new images started weighing down on him. Flashes of a white sheet; doors closing; dying flowers; a dark coffin; a crying woman; Elena's face motionless as the coffin clasped her body-
"Damon Salvatore?"
Damon startled from his nightmare as the nurse stood above him, the very tips of her hair beginning to tickle his wet cheek. He rose without hesitation, instantly looking the nurse in the eye in an attempt to decipher the words she was about to say. Her chocolate brown eyes sent a stinging reminder of Elena's doe-like pupils, yet Damon refused to look away.
Coward, he mentally slapped himself. Elena's fine. Stop being such an asshole and get on with it.
The Hospital Lights along with his unwanted tears blurred his vision and he was beginning to lose sight of the fidgeting nurse in front of him. Why was she fidgeting?
"Is she okay?" he pressed, unsure of whether he wanted to hear the news after all. What if it was terrible? What if the car accident had taken from him the only person he was sure he loved? He loved her. He loved her perkiness and innocence. He loved her roaming hands and beautiful curves. She was beautiful, yes, and he was in love with her.
The thought of her gone forever-
"She's okay, sir."
Damon's breathing stopped.
She was alive.
She hadn't left him.
His clasped hands and intertwined fingers gripped the back of his neck as what he had just heard began to sink in.
"Can i see her?" his voice was barely a whisper as the woman's eyes flinched in response. That couldn't have been a good sign. "Can i see her? Is she alright?"
"-Mr. Salvatore,"
"Where's Elena?" Damon's voice was rising and it took everything he had not to shake the nurse and demand answers. She had said Elena was alive, but that could mean anything. Was she in a coma? Traumatized?
His eyes searched for the nurse's name tag where Maria was printed in bold capitals.
"Maria," he began, lightly placing both his hands onto the the nurse's shoulders. "I need to know. I need to know what happened to Elena. "
Damon clenched his jaw, almost frustrated with the nurse's refusal to tell him what happened. The stiches and stained blood on his forehead were nothing compared to the chaos streaming through his head at that very moment. Beyond the chaos, a single word rang repeatedly, screaming for his attention. A single name.
Elena. Elena, Elena, Elena.
Did it really have to take an accident for him to realize how much of nothing we was without her? From the very first day he bumped into her on that hectic working day- the very first time he had gazed into her thick eyelashes and shy eyes. He remembered her blush, thinking it was the most adorable thing he had seen. Of course, he wouldn't have dreamt of admitting it to her then. And he had never of dreamt, in his wildest dreams, that one day she would be his home.
"Maria, Please." His words were strained. They made eye contact and for a second he thought he knew what the answer would be. Could be.
You could tell by the way her gaze shifted at the same time as her feet. Palms sweaty. How could you be asked to deliver news like that to someone? He didn't blame her. He wouldn't be able to do it. And one look into his eyes told her that he knew. She knew he knew. And the thought of it brought his knees to tremble. Damon fell back into the chair before staring lost at the ground.
Of course, Elena was alive.
But she didn't remember him.

Her hand came to brush away the specks of dirt that lay on his shirt, but the second she touched his muscular back, her mind wasn't on the anything else but the thin layer of clothing between the tips of her fingers and the skin beneath his shirt. She felt his muscles clench as her fingers grazed his chest, which only encouraged her. Elena stroked his back. Each stroke caused him a wave of pain and pleasure at the same time as he folded into her teasing hands. He wanted her. His endless, soaking dreams came rushing back to him as her face cautiously approached his.
She felt her tongue whisper two syllables, yet consciously, she couldn't remember what the word was. All she knew was that it felt warmly perfect on her lips. Whatever it was, the man in front of her seemed to respond to it, and in the crampt space of his car he shifted completely, positioning his eyes to meet hers and his lips to face her own. His blue eyes transfixed onto her lips for what seemed like hours before reluctantly returning his gaze to her doe-like and utterly irresistible eyes.
Elena whispered the word again, in a longing and desperate tone, triggering what she saw as a lustful expression on the handsome man's features. His brow furrowed in concentration, confusion, and various other emotions running through his body there and then. He needed her to know how he felt. How his whole body tensed whenever she was near. His dirty dreams and wild imagination; every one including her teasing figure and curious hands.
They were so close now. His gaze redirected to her lips once more, as he heard her speak his name. This time, she heard what she was saying. Even though this was a dream, Elena was sure it was also a memory of importance, and hopefully one with a happy ending. The syllables she spoke now rang aloud in her ear, loud and finally audible. "Damon."

Elena Gilbert woke up to silence. Audible footsteps faded from her hearing, and blackness over swelled her vision. Her eyelids blinked numerous times at an attempt to see through the darkness surrounding, and without success. Yet she was able to process the shadows of large curtains draped around her bed.

Her bedroom was never this dark. It always had the glow of the moon's halo causing patterns on the wooden floor, or the the flashlights of her neighbour's car as it pulled into the driveway next-door.
As her vision began to clear, Elena noticed a hooded figure draped over a chair in what looked like the most uncomfortable slumber. Without hesitation she pulled back and inched as far away from the figure as her limited bed would allow. Instead, a hand tugged her forward. It was his hand. Confused, she struggled against his grip, except it remained firm, threatening to break her hand's bones at any moment.
"Get off of me," she muttered, using her other hand to shove off the nails that dag into her skin. It wasn't until now she felt how much pain he was causing her. Her voice began to rise as panic began to sink in.
"Get off me!" Elena screeched, finally freeing of his grip.
The figure's head snapped up, and through the darkness she caught sight of two blue eyes holding her gaze. She froze. Those eyes looked so familiar; so homely. Her fear changed from being scared of him to being scared of losing him. As if, if she ended the gaze then she would end what they had. What did they have, she questioned herself? A second ago he had been trying to hurt her. He was trying to hurt her, wasn't he?
"Elena?" his voice was shattered, breaking the silence that had kept her safe. Now she was reminded of the situation and where she was. She wasn't at home; of that she was certain. She was in an unknown room with an unknown man, who had purposely tried to harm her- she added- and the only thought on her current mind was that she needed to get out.
I've been kidnapped, her mind stated. I've been kidnapped and i'm all alone.
With that thought, Elena attempted to jump out of the bed before realizing she was hardly strong enough to stand up, and there were wires attached to various parts of her body.
What was this sick man trying to do to her? She ripped the wires off of her bandaged body, generating three machines to make sickening sounds as they disconnected.
"Elena? Where are you going?"
Barefoot and naked, apart from a thin gown she did not remember putting on, she sprinted down the empty hallways, ignoring the man's cries behind her. She didn't know where she was going, only that she needed to get the hell out.
Her footsteps padded down the cold marble floor, arms swinging and hair flying. Her waist and hip were bruised, causing jolts of pain to travel all over her with every sprint. The balls of her feet ached whenever she slapped them against the flooring.
Elena was a mess, and running around, she felt- and looked - insane. Despite the fact every part of her ached, she knew that if she stopped he'd catch her and bring her back to whatever he was doing before. Faint images of herself in what seemed like a High School track kit flashed in her mind. Did she even do track in High School? She couldn't even seem to remember what High School she went to.
Her thoughts were interrupted when the flash of bright light pierced her sight. Distracted, she had run right into what seemed like a hospital. More importantly, a hospital she didn't remember stalking into. Elder women in Nurse uniforms turned their heads in her direction as she halted to a stop, panting, her lungs devouring all air reachable. A few nurses rushed her way whilst others simply stared, trying to process why a panting patient would be awake at 2:30am. Others figured out that she had tried to escape and hustled to her side before she'd try to dodge them.
Until their nails dug into her arms and she was reminded of the blue eyed figure, Elena hadn't contemplated the situation and/or what to do.
Not waiting for her breath return, Elena hustled as far away from them as she could. The reaction was two more nurses hastening to keep her under control.
"What do you think you're doing?" she wrenched the grip of the nurses from her arms whilst her eyes darted for the hospital's exit. She'd try and figure out the on earth had happened once she was away from the abuse she was being inflicted upon.
A huge revolving door lead her to the streets afar, and without wavering, Elena's feet made for it.
"Elena, wait!" his voice rang out across the havoc of nurses. "Elena!"
The revolving door had always been a pain in the ass, and with its unbelievably slow movement, Elena had been lucky to slip into a passing entrance before the gap was closed. An old nurse missed the entrance by milliseconds.
Whilst waiting for the revolving sphere to re-open, she realized that the man knew her name. Was he even old enough to be a man, she wondered? How did he know who she was, and why in hell was she being kept at a hospital? Feeling utterly alone, never mind beginning to feel like she was an escaping mental patient, Elena realized she had nowhere to go.
Her bare feet met with the soaking stone outside the door's entrance as she notified it was pouring. Her hair was soaking, not to mention the way her now transparent hospital gown clung to her naked body!
"Don't you touch her!" his voice roared, causing Elena to spin around and meet his eyes, uncaring to whether everybody could now see her nude flesh. Her eyes met his as they melted into devastation. He cared for her; that, at least, she now knew. Her brows furrowed in question as his expression altered from hurt, to furiousity; wonder, to affection- and their gaze held each other's for what felt like the longest duration in Elena's life.
"I said, don't you t-" her confusion at his words froze her until she understood who he was talking to. A huge figure grasped a strong arm around her chest and arms, sending Elena into a defenceless state, when a needle- the size of her own finger- was stabbed into the side of her neck. The pierce against her flesh stung as she winced in slight pain, yet the pain was hardly the only thing on her mind.
A name rang in the back of her mind as dizziness began to overwhelm her.
One name; two syllables.
Flashes of a dream, or a memory.
Flashes of him.
The name that had once formed her lips returned a second time.
"Damon?" she barely whispered, yet he seemed to understand. His young blue eyes and furious state were the last two things she saw before she fell limp into a stranger's embrace.