Authors Note: Hi guys! This is my first ever fan fic, so please be gentle! It explores some quite dark themes. Currently a one shot, could possibly expand on it if anyone would be interested in reading it...

R+R and let me know what you think :-)

xx


Damon sat on the bare floorboards in his room with his back against the wall, head hung dejectedly. He was alone, not just at this particular moment here in the boarding house, but in his life. He felt completely isolated and empty. He took another swig of the bourbon bottle that lay by his right side before bringing the bottle crashing down on the hard wood floor, shattering it around him. He sat amongst the broken glass, thinking that this has to be some kind of metaphor for his life, sunlight playing on shattered curves and empty eyes. The sun caught one piece of glass in particular and Damon was drawn to it. He grabbed it, being careful as not to shatter it anymore and without hesitation stabbed the shard into his own arm and yanked it down, cutting deep from elbow to wrist. He gasped, but not in pain, in release, and smiled as he felt muscle rip and tendons sever. Within seconds of course it was gone, his advanced vampire healing making light work of the gash. Damn his vampire healing! For a brief second he had actually felt something and he wasn't about to let go of that feeling. He spent the next hour repeatedly slicing into his flesh and watching it heal, over and over, until he heard Stefan and Elena come back to the house. He couldn't suffer it, hearing them so happy with each other, so without saying a word he left and headed to the Grille , to drink himself numb, leaving a mess of glass and blood all over his bedroom floor.


It was 1am by the time he decided to stagger back to the boarding house, praying that the two lovebirds would be fastly tucked up asleep after an evening of mediocre love making. As usual, his prayers were not to be answered. As soon as he stepped inside the door he could hear Elena's soft moans coming from his brothers bedroom, it was enough to make him feel sick, those moans seemed to suck the buzz right out of him, he definitely needed more whiskey for this. He headed to the bar and grabbed a bottle of Scotch before staggering over to the armchair in front of the fireplace, swigging from the bottle as he went. He tried to will himself not to listen but his traitorous ears sought out Elena's moans as they increased in her obvious pleasure. He couldn't take it anymore, he was so close to breaking, he felt so fucking empty at that moment. He thought back to earlier and the temporary release the pain had brought and he craved it, more than he craved blood, almost more than he craved her. He saw a log by the fire place that had started to split as it dried out, it was perfect. With his vampire strength he pulled at the split, ripping off a long thin sliver of wood, about 6" long and only a few millimeters thick. He split the piece into four thin slivers about a centimeter wide, perfect. He heard Elena's moans get faster as she approached her release and stabbed the tip of one of the slivers into his arm, angled under the skin and smiled at the twinge of pain it caused. As she reached her climax he forced the rest of the wood under his skin, perfectly in time with her final scream. As she found her release, in a way so did he, the pain from the wood under his skin was intense, but somehow numbing and calming. You could see the sliver inside his arm, touch it through the skin, it fascinated him, he decided to leave it in so it wouldn't heal, he wanted to feel it. He took the remaining three slivers of wood up to his room and lay on his bed. Stefan and Elena's murmurs of post coital bliss reached his ears and without thought he rammed a second sliver under the skin of his second arm, revelling in it. He fell asleep like that, arms wide, smiling face on top of his blood stained sheets, looking for all the world like a crucified angel.


The next morning Damon awoke to a searing pain in both of his forearms. A small smile turned up the corners of his lips, today was the first day in months he had woken up feeling anything at all, even if it was just pain that he felt. He decided to leave the slivers in, for as long as he could still feel them he knew he wasn't dead. He whistled, walking towards the shower, the shards of broken glass from the bourbon bottle cutting into the soles of his feet as he walked. He didn't even wince, the cuts having healed before he even stepped into the shower.

After he had washed he lay on his bed in just a towel, examining the stakes in his arms, fascinated by how they felt when he touched them. The two love birds had obviously just awoken and were ready for round two. He could hear Elena's heavy breathing and quiet moans, she probably thought she was being discreet, but with his vampire hearing she could as well have been right here next to him. It was almost as if his brother was purposely torturing him over Elena's choice, he must have heard Damon coming out of the shower. Bastard.

As Elena's breathy moans increased Damon was sickened to find himself becoming aroused. He tried to fight it, but his desire outweighed his disgust and his arousal was obvious under the small towel he was wearing. Damon grabbed one of the two remaining wood splinters and drove it under the skin at the top of his thigh, hoping that a fresh injection of pain would kill his arousal and drown out the sounds he was being tortured by, but he was amazed when if anything it had the opposite effect. Everything was sharper, clearer. He could distinctly hear Elena's cries of passion and his erection became even harder under his towel. The pain actually turned him on more. He grabbed the last remaining splinter and shoved it into his other thigh, entering some sort of pain induced bliss. He grabbed his throbbing shaft and started to stroke himself into an intense orgasm, listening to Elena's cries. It was all so wrong, he knew it, but part of him didn't care, he hadn't felt anything good in so long he decided to let himself feel this and deal with the shame of it all afterwards. He pumped his shaft harder and as Elena reached her climax so did he, emptying himself all over his sheets and his stomach.

He sat back on his bed, sheets disarrayed, sticky with bodily fluids and blood, the wood burning him from the inside, his eyes empty. He sat, looking for all the world like a fallen angel, and despite it all he could not quite bring himself to feel ashamed.