Author's Note: Hi all. I've been lurking in this fandom for awhile and have finally decided to contribute to the amazing collection of writing on this website. Damon and Elena have recently taken up residence inside my head, so I figured I would put them to good use. I'm hoping that writing this story will be helpful in getting through the rest of the summer until Season 4 starts. And can I just say – what a finale! I'm still floored almost an entire week later!

Disclaimer: I only own the plot.

turn to stone

part one

The darkness is suffocating. He can't move, can't breathe. Feels the stirrings of panic building in his chest. Where is he? What happened?

Why is it so fucking dark?

Taking a deep breath, he focuses, takes inventory. He's lying down. Of that much he's certain. The floor is cold and hard under his body. If he strains his eyes he can just make out the faint outline of a door. The air is slightly stale and smells musty, like a basement. But there, in the background, he smells something fantastic, delicious, mouth-wateringly good.

He can't quite put his finger on the smell. It's nothing he's ever sensed before. Slightly bitter, yet sweet and somehow he knows it would taste like heaven, would soothe his rough throat. He wants more than anything to find it, have it. Taste it.

"Is he awake yet?"

The words are clear and crisp. They startle him, but the voice comes from far away. He's not sure how he knows this, but he does. How can he hear them? His hands fly up to cover his ears. The words are as loud as if the speaker is in the room with him.

"-think he'll come around soon. It's been over an hour already."

His brain working overtime, he misses the first part, but recognizes the voice. Stefan.

Relief floods his system. If Stefan is here then he can't be in danger. Stefan is the golden boy. On a sigh of relief, he pushes himself to stand and carefully makes his way to the door. It flies open before he gets close.

"Damon."

Light floods into the room, framing his brother in a halo of gold. Damon chokes back a chuckle at the irony.

And then suddenly he's on the floor, choking, grasping at his throat, his chest and it feels likes he's drowning, suffocating, there's not enough air. Can't breathe. Can'tbreathecan'tbreathecan'tbreathe.

And then he's swallowed by the darkness again.

It's the first day of school when he sees her across the playground. She's wearing bright red shorts and a top with a big strawberry on it. She's got red sparkly jellies on her feet and she's holding a Barbie backpack in one hand. Her long brown hair is pulled into two pigtails that his hands just itch to pull. She's standing with who he guesses is her mom and a little blonde girl bounces excitedly in circles around her.

He's not sure why she catches his eye so suddenly, but as she turns to hug her mom goodbye, their eyes meet. To his surprise, she doesn't frown at him or make a stupid face, like most girls. She just looks at him with wide brown eyes. A small smile plays on her lips as she sees Stefan playing in the sand beside him, his dad talking to his new teacher. She sees his dumb collared shirt and the freshly pressed chinos that his dad made him wear and it's like he's known her forever.

They're both in Mrs. Lemon's class. Some kids cry, since it's the first day and all, but Damon isn't one of them and neither is the girl he saw outside. She sits at the art table, long skinny legs swinging as she sticks out her tongue, concentrating on pasting a big yellow smiley face in exactly the right spot. He thinks about going to join her, but her blonde friend is there before he can move, so he stays huddled in the reading corner with his book. He's no good at crafts anyways.

Later, at recess, she comes over to him, without her blonde bouncy friend in tow, and since he hasn't made any new friends yet he is grateful, even if she is a girl.

"Hi! I'm Elena. What's your name?"

"Damon," he answers. Her sunny smile seems to make the first day of kindergarten a bit brighter, even though he would definitely rather be running around with Stefan in the backyard of the Boarding House.

"I saw you this morning before school. Was that your little brother? I have a little brother too. He can be cute but mostly he's annoying. What's your brother like? What's his name? Does be bug you lots too?" He watches her ramble on and on, pigtails bouncing, and wonders what she would do if he just reached out and tugged one, wonders how long she can talk before she shuts up.

When she finally pauses and takes a breath he says, "You talk a lot."

She wrinkles her nose at him. "So?"

"So nothing. You should talk less." He grins at her, eyes crinkling, so she knows he's not being mean, just teasing.

"But that's no fun," she protests. "If I don't talk to you, how are we gonna be best friends?"

The question stumps him. "What about that bouncy blonde girl?" he asks, to buy time, since he's not sure he wants to be best friends with a girl anyways.

"That's Caroline. She's my friend but not my best friend. I don't have one yet. I like you though. You have pretty eyes."

He's not quite sure what to say to that, so instead he gives in to temptation, pulls her pigtail and races away. She squeals loudly, throws up her arms and chases after him.

The darkness pulls him back under before she catches up and tackles him to the ground, cementing a bond over annoying little brothers and long brown pigtails.

When he comes to Stefan is still there, but the darkness has evaporated, leaving in its wake the dirty cellar of the Boarding House. He shakes off the memory; his brain feels cloudy. He tries to remember what happened. How he got here. He tells himself to focus. Think, damn it. But his mind draws a complete blank, so he turns to Stefan.

"What happened?" His voice sounds hoarse, raspy to his ears. He wonders how long he was out, dreaming of- "Where's Elena?" he asks more urgently. "What happened?"

Stefan looks sadly at him, regret and an emotion he can't quite decipher in his eyes.

Damon tries again to remember. What was he was doing before he woke up in the cellar? He thinks of the dream (memory?) he had had, and then it comes to him as clear as a bell. The last thing he remembers is Elena. They were walking home, trying to rush to make it before curfew. He knows her aunt worries when they walk in the evening so he always makes sure to get her safely home in time. She stopped him on the path to her front door, he remembers. Turned those big brown eyes on him, looking for all intents and purposes like she was about to spill her guts, and then – nothing. That's the last thing he remembers.

Stefan opens his mouth to explain, but Damon interrupts. "Where's Elena?" he repeats, eyes fiercely meeting his brother's.

"She's safe. She's at home with Jenna." Stefan soothes his fear in a gentle voice. Damon wants to punch him for sounding so damn calm when he is the furthest thing in the world from calm.

Barely restraining his frustration, he replies in a tight voice. "Then will you please explain what the fuck is going on?"

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