I KNOW this isn't going to happen due to the trailer, preview clip, and what not, but I really love the damsel in distress thing so I wrote another story based around that. Delena. . .of course. And I was thinking the other day, if Elena doesn't want to be Katherine, how can anyone expect her to choose/love Stefan more than Damon? The writers probably set the show up for a Delena ending so they have Elena always saying, "I'm not Katherine," and what not. So she won't be Katherine. She'll choose Damon over Stefan. I'm clever aren't I? Enjoy!

Mason had tied Damon to a chair, much like Damon had done to him. He had slipped off his sun ring, and gotten a table of vervain ready so he could shove it down his throat. "So, what's new?" Damon mumbled.
"Well. I'm dead. So that's something," Mason smirked, walking over to the table of herbs. As Mason organized the things on the table in silence, the front door opened. Damon's head snapped up.
"No!" he forced from his mouth. Mason laughed.
"This should be fun," he murmured as Elena appeared-rather shocked-in the doorway.
"Damon?" she whispered, horror-struck.
"Elena, get out of here!" he roared. Damon fought the chains, never looking away from Elena's terrified eyes.
"No, Elena. Please, join us," Mason said, opening his arms out wide.
"Elena, please. Please," Damon begged.
"What are you doing to him?" she asked, her voice shaking.
"What he did to me."
"But he killed you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Exactly." Suddenly Mason appeared before Elena, and she jerked back. "Care to join?" Elena's eyes widened in shock as she stumbled backwards. Mason grabbed her arm. Damon groaned and snarled at Mason. "This should be more fun than killing you," he noted. Mason dragged Elena into the living room, so she was in full view of Damon. Suddenly Elena was thrown into the wall, wincing and crying out in pain as her head smashed into the wall.
"ELENA!" Damon groaned, wrestling with the chains restraining him to the chair. Mason pulled her to her feet and pushed her to the floor next to Damon.
"Why don't you take some, Damon?" Mason suggested.
"Go to hell," he growled.
"Hmm." Elena was holding her head, getting as far away from Mason as she could. He grabbed her arm and dragged her back, holding her next to Damon. Damon just glared at him. "Drink," he ordered. Damon looked away to Elena. "DRINK!" he shouted again. "Or I'll kill her. You can't get in trouble for murder when you're dead."
"Just do it," Elena whispered. She looked up to meet Damon's troubled and pained eyes. "I trust you." Damon nodded. He knew if he drank, he'd become stronger. He could help Elena. . .
Mason pulled Elena from the ground and threw her onto Damon's lap. She curled up against his chest. Damon wished his hands were free so he could hold her to him. She sat up, leaning her head on his shoulder. "DRINK!" Mason ordered. Damon slid his face as close to Elena as possible. He could hear her heavy breaths, her blood pumping through her veins, smell her intoxicating smell.
"Elena?" he whispered. "I love you." Her body shook and he bit into her neck. He could feel himself growing stronger-Mason obviously hadn't thought this plan over. He pulled his hands from the chains, wrapping his arms around Elena, who was growing weaker.
"Damn!" Mason cursed, appearing before the chair. Damon stood up, Elena in his arms, her blood dripping slightly from the corner of his mouth.
"Bye ghost boy," Damon murmured, blurring away.

Damon arrived at the Gilbert house with Elena swinging in his arms. No one was home-Ric was at the Grill drowning himself in alcohol, and Jeremy was with Bonnie. "Elena?" Damon whispered. Her eyes fluttered. "You're home." He almost made the mistake of saying we're home. Damon didn't have a home.
Damon tried his best not to think of Mason-if he did, that granted him access.
Elena opened her eyes, groaning and stretching slightly. "Damon?" she whispered.
"Hey, beautiful," he murmured, nuzzling his face into the side of her neck that was undamaged. "I need to give you some blood-so you'll heal." When Elena looked panic-stricken, he added, "Don't worry. No one will kill you before tomorrow night." Elena nodded, and winced.
"Ouch." Damon sat her on her bed, brushing some hair from her face.
"Yeah, I think you got somewhat of a concussion. The blood should heal that. You just need a good night's rest," he added, grinning-though it didn't touch his eyes. Damon bit into his wrist and offered it to her. She excepted it gladly, drinking in as much as was needed.
"Damon?" she asked.
"Mm-hmm?" he murmured as he pulled his wrist away from her mouth.
"Do you love me?" Damon met her wondering expression. Confusion struck his face. He could only think to say one thing.
"You know I do, Elena." It was silent for a few minutes.
"Why?" He looked up to meet her eyes.
"Why, what?"
"Why don't you do anything about it?" Silence. He stared at her wonderingly.
"Because, Elena. You love Stefan. You've made it very clear how you feel about you and I. We're friends, and I'm not going to jeopardize you're happiness for my selfishness," he responded quietly.
"Damon," she groaned. For a moment, he thought she was going to tell him not to be stupid. That he didn't love her, and he was right, it would always be Stefan, and Damon would always be the idiot brother that stuck around to get his heart smashed into pieces.
"You really think I don't love you, too?" There was the smashing part. Damon stared at her blankly.
"What-what did you just say?"
"I love you," she murmured. Damon stared at her coldly. He stood next to her bed, frozen in time. "What's wrong?" she whispered.
Before Elena could protest, or realize what was going on, she was being pulled to Damon, his lips crushing down on hers. She kissed him back passionately, and even if she never admitted it, Damon was a thrill to kiss. It was much more exciting then Stefan, even though it lasted a few short moments. When they pulled away, they were staring at each other, exhausted. "We should get to bed," Damon whispered, resting his forehead on hers. Elena nodded, climbing under the covers, forgetting about Stefan, the ghosts, Klaus, everything. All Elena thought about was the fact that she was curled up against Damon Salvatore's chest, feeling his every breath on her stomach.
And she loved every moment of it.