Losing My Mind To Find Myself

by Killer Ladybug

Damon finds something from her past that throws everything she knows about the present into chaos. Delijah. Rated M so only 18 , please. Bad Summary but any more will give too much away. Damon is female in this because why not? Don't like don't read. Not Beta'd so pardon the mistakes.

(Author's note: I own nothing. This is M so please only +18 readers. Enjoy.)

"Seriously, remind me again why the hell I allowed you to store your crap in my attic?" Damon griped as she tossed another box to Elena and Stefan.

"Because we have minimal dorm space. Anyway, it is not like your attic isn't bigger than my house's entire main floor." Caroline muttered over her shoulder.

"That still doesn't explain why it had to be my attic." Damon threw the next box at Stefan's head. He caught it with a scowl.

Grabbing another box Caroline hip-checked the older vampire out of her way. "Less bitching, more moving."

"What's this?" Damon glanced towards the open wardrobe Bonnie was pointing her thumb at.

"Narnia." Bonnie rolled her eyes. "I think I stored my dresses from 1890-1930 in there." Caroline shuffled over in interest and began sifting through the old clothes.

"Damon, these are beautiful." Caroline held up an old 1920's flapper gown with a damaged strap to examine the beadwork.

"Well, I do have good taste. Accessories should be at the bottom of the wardrobe. The one over there is 1940's through 1990's." Damon waived her hand in the direction of another wardrobe filled to bursting.

"What is in those boxes over there?" Bonnie pointed to a massive pile of boxes taking up the west corner of the room. Damon leaned against her mother's old writing desk and fiddled with an old quill. Her mother had possessed the most beautiful handwriting and Damon would watch her pen letters for hours before she was old enough to learn herself.

"Books mostly, some trinkets, and a lot of spider corpses." Caroline let out a shriek as Damon flicked the end of the quill at her shoulder. "Really, Blondie? You drink blood for a living and spiders still scare you?"

"Blood doesn't have way too many legs." Damon rolled her eyes and strolled over to where Bonnie had made herself a nest of books.

"You guys working hard? Or hardly working?" Rolling her eyes, Damon turned to face her brother.

"Don't even act like you and Ms. Gilbert aren't making kissy faces at each other every chance you get." Snatching up an old football, she threw it to Stefan. "Come on, you and Elena versus me and Jeremy."

"Can I be left out of this please?" Jeremy called from his place as Bonnie's backrest.

"Now, Mini-Gilbert."

The ensuing game was one for the ages, tied three to three with the endpoint going to a pile of boxes that fell on top of Stefan. Damon was laughing too hard to continue the game or help Elena dig him out.

Afterwards, they sat in the cool attic air sipping lemonade, for the kiddies, and bourbon, for Damon.

"So what is in this one?" Damon glanced up at Caroline's millionth question. She had started going through Damon's things and asking about everything she found. It led to countless interesting stories and a few embarrassing ones. This particular inquiry was aimed at an ornate box. The outside was carved with lavender and orange blossoms. A cluster of forget-me-nots was carved into the lid.

"I-" Damon stared at the box. Where in the world had that come from? Her mind knew the box; she had put it in the wardrobe years ago. She had found it among her things after returning to Mystic Falls following the Augustine incident. It had been left forgotten under a chair. However, she had been a little more focused on handling her traitorous family than anything else at the time. "I don't remember."

Caroline went to open it before pausing. "It isn't cursed right?" She eyed the box wearily as if it might bite.

"No, cursed objects go in the basement." Damon took another swig of her bourbon but never took her eyes from the box. It was as if there was something tickling the back of her mind. The lid flipped open gently in Caroline's hands.

"Oh my God." Caroline raised her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. "Where-When-How did you get this?"

"What? What is it?" Stefan and the girls crowded around the box. Stefan stared at the contents of the box before looking confusedly at Damon. "You need to tell me something?"

Damon shrugged. "Yes, since all your nonsensical babble has clued me into the contents of the box let me tell you." She motioned for them to fork it over. Caroline set it in her waiting palm and Damon brought the box up for inspection.

Sitting in a bedding of soft cloth was an old ring. The woven silver strands twisted about each other with teardrop sapphires of varying shades and round cut diamonds embedded in the pattern. The work was delicate and very old. Damon's fingers trembled as she pulled the ring from the box.

"Where did you get it?" Caroline asked.

"I have no idea," Damon muttered tearing her eyes away from the ring and the nagging sensation to stare at her sireling.

"Well, it fits you perfectly," Stefan said nodding his head at Damon. Her gaze flickered down to see that her signet ring rested on her right ring finger now instead of its usual place of honor on her left. The old ring now sat on her left as if it had never left. Damon blinked. Never left? But the thought slipped from her mind like dispersing smoke. "You didn't go get married while we were apart did you?"

"I don't think I have ever been that drunk, brother dear. You, on the other hand, might want to regale your girlfriend with the story of what happened on our first trip to Vegas?" The flicker in the back of her mind was ignored in favor of the color her brother's face was currently turning.

That night she crawled into bed and tried to tune out the sound of the three girls having a girl's night in her living room. She had already given them a stern lecture about her liquor being off limits, but that the crap Stefan drank was fair game. Judging by the squealing from downstairs they had helped themselves.

The Egyptian cotton slid over her bare skin, coming to rest on her shoulders. As she raised her hand to turn out the bedside light a glimmer caught her eye. The ring still sat on her finger. The same feeling of having forgotten something niggled at the back of her head. She flicked off the light. She would figure it out in the morning and then put the ring and its box, which now sat on her nightstand, back in her wardrobe.

Strong fingers stroked her cheek as she rocked her hips. He felt so good inside her. She let her head fall back as the ball of pleasure in her stomach tightened.

"Look at me." Her head lolled to the side and she gazed at him through her tangled hair. One of his arms wound around her waist and the other grasped her hand, threading their fingers together as their rings clinked against one another. His hand pressed on her sternum before gliding up her long neck and fisting in her hair, pulling her down to him. His lips caressed her ear. "Come for me, darling. Let me hear you." She arched her back and screamed as she tumbled over the edge, dragging him with her. He snarled and sank his fangs into her neck.

Damon's eyes snapped open as she bolted upright in bed. "What the hell was that?"

This was getting out of hand. It had started with the dreams. They were like snatches of gossamer snagging on shards of memory, leaving only scraps of images to torment her.

Then had come the memorable time Damon apparently started talking in tongues. She had been walking into the kitchen for breakfast and said good morning to her brother. He had looked at her as if she had grown three heads. He had opened his mouth in confusion. Damon rolled her eyes and asked him what he was up to that morning. It had taken him ten minutes to convince her that she wasn't speaking English nor any other language Blondie could find on the internet. It had cleared up by nightfall but it still happened from time to time.

His voice was low, rough, and guttural as he spoke on the phone. She had just finished bathing and had found him lounging on the couch. Drying her hair with a towel she settled on the floor and rested her head on his lap. She smiled when his fingers inevitably found their way into her ebony locks. He spoke for a moment more before hanging up.

"I don't recognize the language. What is it?" His fingers stilled for only a moment before resuming their repeat journey.

"One that has been lost to all but my family." His voice is soft and longing. Damon hates it, this part of him. So wounded by something she can't fix nor kill those responsible. A man so strong and yet so sorrowful. She buried her head into his knee till the black veins recede from her eyes. It scares her how she cares for this man.

"It's beautiful. Will you teach me?" Her fingers trace the designs on the carpet.

"You wish to learn?" The surprise in his voice almost masks his pleasure at her request. "I suppose we have the time. I will warn you, I am not an easy taskmaster."

"Well, I am good with my tongue, try me." They spent the rest of the day on the couch going over this piece of his past.

A month later she told him she loved him in the same language.

After that, she began hearing music echoing about her mind that she had never heard before. Stefan had asked her the name of a few of the tunes when she had begun to hum them without realizing but she could never recall. The next symptom also had to do with music. An old song would come on the radio and she would find herself moving to the music as if pulled by an unseen lead. Elena and Caroline had been the one to discover this by walking in on Damon in a full waltz in the living room, eyes glassy and arms aloft as if wrapped around a partner.

But the symptoms had all been blamed on various levels of tired and stress from the monster or curse or lunatic of the month. However, it was the newest symptom that pushed her over the edge.

She had been sitting with Alaric at the Grill and poking fun at the outrageous theories they had been forced to consider about the latest monster scare. There had been noises coming from an old, dried up well and a high schooler had gone missing. Alaric had been out of town presenting his thesis paper and had missed the entire shit storm.

"So long story short, not a chupacabra and Mrs. Fitz was very grateful to me for pulling her puffball Pomeranian out of the well."

"Wait," Alaric gestured for her to rewind for a moment, "what happened to the student?"

"Turned out he was enjoying this town's frighteningly lax policies on underage drinking and went on a bender. Sheriff Forbes had to haul his ass out a dumpster just off Main Street. So all in all, not a horrible week if you don't count that dog trying to use my leg for breeding purposes. Can't really blame him, must be really hard to get any when you look like a stuffed animal, wear a pink rhinestone collar, and answer to Mr. Fluffles." Damon drained the rest of her glass and motioned for another.

"So, nothing else going on I need to know about?" Alaric looked at her out of the corner of his eye as he took another sip of his bourbon.

"Not unless you want to know what I caught Elena and Stefan up to in the cellar." She took a moment to relish the look of pure disgust on Alaric's face.

"Really? Nothing else? Nothing going on with you?" His voice was just this side of too cautious and Damon groaned. Of course all the teenage vampires she graciously opened her home to had nothing better to do than gossip about her losing her mind.

"Blondie's been blabbing then? Or has Elena actually had time to do other things with her mouth than-"

"It was Caroline and, for the love of the fact that Elena is like a daughter to me, do not finish that sentence." Alaric took a more than healthy gulp of bourbon to wash away the image.

"I was going to say kiss my brother but that too. Geeze and they say I have a-" Damon shot upright as warm fingers trailed over the sliver of skin between her shirt and jeans. She whirled around to deck whoever was stupid enough to think she was even remotely going to let that go. She was met with a startled waitress clearing a table and a bewildered look from Alaric.

"Everything okay?" He arched an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah, just thought I felt something." Alaric's back straightened slightly to be ready for a fight should it arise but remained relaxed beyond that. "What were we talking about?"

"Ironically, we were about to have a serious conversation about what the hell has you acting so weird. You been messing with something you shouldn't?" His gaze flittered over her in that overly I-care-about-you-and-you-already-died-once-this-year look.

"And that would be different from my normal behavior how?" Then a warm pressure pushed against her lower back as if a possessive hand rested there. Had Alaric's hands not been in full view she would be wondering about his own sanity. She straightened her back and the pressure of the unseen hand eased before settling against her again. It was warmer now and she could feel its thumb stroking her spine.

"Very true." Alaric raised his hand for a refill.

"You really should try the 100 year."

"They don't have a 100 year and I doubt you could afford it on a teacher's salary." Damon snorted into her glass.

"What?" Alaric stared at her in confusion.

"What did you just say?" Damon asked a sense of dread filling her.

"I said very true." His eyebrows started to do that thing that usually resulted in Damon getting an intervention and a lecture from what seemed to be the entire population of Mystic Falls.

"I meant, what did you say after that?" Alaric shook his head.

"I didn't say anything. Damon, you are really starting to freak me out. Maybe you should go talk to Bonnie." Alaric's hand came to rest on her shoulder at the same time a warm wet sensation dragged up the side of her neck and the hand on her back turned into strong arms wrapped around her waist. Damon bolted from her seat nearly knocking Alaric off his own stool.

"I think that is a great idea. Bonbon and I are due for some witchy bonding time." She sped out of the Grill as Alaric called out after her. She pretended that laughter she heard was just the wind and that everyone else heard it too.

Turned out Bonnie was busy with something for college and would not be available until the weekend. Apparently, not every school was fine with students skipping 95% of their classes to go chase monsters. That was fine. Damon may be losing her mind but she could wait until the weekend. She just wouldn't sleep until then. It was only four days.

She made it to day three.

"It is almost Saturday. Just have to make it through one more night." Grabbing a collection of poetry, she settled in to wait for morning. A fire crackled in the hearth and she was stretched out on her favorite reading couch with a glass of well-aged bourbon. As she read the familiar prose, phantom fingers ran through her hair and soft puffs of air tickled her ear. Her eyes began to droop as the words of some poem about a tree, friends, and foes became blurry. She stayed awake long enough to hear the book thump to the floor along with her glass of bourbon.

Damon stared through the crowd of the speakeasy. She had heard that her brother had fallen off the wagon again and smirked. Lexi must be pissed. Poor Stefan, the ripper can't keep his mouth off the next pretty girl's neck. She had heard rumors that the reason Lexi hadn't come riding to his rescue was his current company was more than she could handle, some blonde and her brother that had charmed Stefan with their British accents. He always did have a thing for accents.

New York had nothing new to offer anymore. Same clubs and bums, sometimes she wanted a change in food and drink. A pair of workmen trailed their eyes up the line of her gown. Reaching up she tucked a strand of her hair higher into her Gibson twist. Food would at least be easy to come by tonight. She took another sip of bourbon and tapped the side to indicate for a refill. Tony, her preferred-enough-to-not-be-a-snack-option bartender, reached to pour her a fresh glass. And-Hello what was this?

Damon felt the hair on her neck prickle and thrill of danger race down her spine. Under a careful construction of calm, she lowered the drink in her gloved hand back to the bar, flickering her eyes across the backboard mirror for any new people. Damon swept the room several times before she finally spotted him. He was only just stepping through the front door. That kind of power meant bad news most days. But she was bored so why not stay and enjoy some trouble?

Tilting her head slightly Damon listened for a heartbeat. Not a witch then, just an older vampire. He had to be even older than Lexi and Katherine to have that kind of effect, to not have to care about giving off that effect.

"Anything else, Ms. Salvatore?" Damon smiled at Tony as he slid her a new glass.

"You still the biggest gossip in this town, Tony?" She sipped from the glass and rolled the smoky flavor around her mouth.

"According to my Aunt but I think my Ma still got me beat. Why? Some lucky lad getting more than a smile tonight?" Damon rolled her eyes. She would be more worried about Tony's interest in her bedroom games had she not met his own sailor recently home from sea.

"Just curious." Damon lowered her voice so the chatter of the crowd would disperse any eavesdroppers. "What do you know about tall, dark, and new over there?" She tilted her head to the refection of the man in the backboard. He was sitting with the owner in a back corner booth. Tony glanced over his shoulder.

"Tall and dark I'll give you but, doll, he ain't new. That is Mr. Mikaelson. Helped Mr. Adams start the bar a few years ago. Don't know much beyond that. I heard he's looking for two people and avoiding one. But I got no names and a few orders to fill if you will excuse me." She waved him off. Spinning on her barstool she glanced about the many patrons dancing and boozing the night away before letting her eyes linger on Mr. Mikaelson. She grinned as she caught his eye, raising her glass as she crossed her legs. The slit of her dress slid tantalizingly open over pale, milky skin. His eyes raked over her form before dragging back up to her own. He raised his glass in return for a moment and went back to his business dealings as if Damon had never caught his attention.

A loud crash jerked Damon from her dream. Her eyes flickered about the room to see her brother had knocked over a lamp in the middle of a furious make-out session with Ms. Gilbert. Before she could voice her complaint about the lamp and their general discourtesy for her beauty rest the tendrils of sleep pulled her under again as if she had never left the dream world.

Damon snarled. She hadn't been snubbed by a man since becoming a vampire. Fuming she turned back around to face the bar and gulped down the rest of her drink. She stared at her reflection of the backboard and let the lines of anger smooth. So what if some stuffy old vampire had bad taste? She was Damon Salvatore, she had lived through worse. She ran a hand over her neck as she stretched out a kink. The burn of eyes on her body reminded her of her hunger for a midnight snack. Glancing at the table of workmen from before she was confused to see them focused on a game of poker, clearly too engaged to have been looking elsewhere. She let out a soft sigh that gained the attention of a man further down the bar. The jumpy manner, the poorly concealed gun, and the air of desperation would make him a fine meal.

Damon blew Tony a kiss and a promise to see him tomorrow night. An extra sashay of her hips had the man from the bar stumbling quickly after her. She had barely made it past the first alleyway when she felt the barrel of his gun shoved in her ribs.

"Scream and I'll plug ya." Damon went limp as he dragged her into the alleyway. Why not let him to the heavy lifting? The fumbling of his hand under her skirt had Damon straightening up. Not a robber then. Lovely. She swiveled to end this disgusting display only to be met with thin air.

"Did you mother never tell you that is no way to treat a lady?" The voice was even and strong. Damon let her eyes trail over her rescuer. Mr. Mikaelson was even more impressive up close. His suit clung to broad shoulders and flowed into a tapered waist. It black with a midnight blue waistcoat and black bow tie. His hair was slicked back and his shoes shone in the faint light. The man himself was even more impressive with a strong jaw and deep brown eyes.

Damon's would be attacker hung like a hooked fish, flopping about feebly in hope of escape. A gurgle escaped from the man's mouth. "No?" Mr. Mikaelson asked. Damon could hear the man's neck begin to splinter. "Well, I would love to give you a lesson but I believe in this case it would be a waste of time to teach an old dog a new trick." A sickening crack and the man fell limply from Mr. Mikaelson's hand.

"I was going to eat that." Damon drawled feeling the long-forgotten southern twang slither up her throat. She always felt her accent come back when she was irritated. Or aroused.

"My apologies, I simply wished to be of assistance." His eyes studied her and she pulled herself to her full height. She never shrank away from her father and she wouldn't be found wanting in this stranger's eyes. The thought that she might be bothered her more than it should have.

"Strange, since we both know I could have handled him." Sassing was Damon's first line of defense, even against more powerful vampires.

"I'm certain but I do believe that your dress has not fared so well." Glancing down she took notice of his point. One strap was ripped clean in two and her dress hung nearly indecently low.

"And I just bought it this morning." Damon snarled. Clothes' shopping was one of her least favorite things to do.

"Allow me, since I have already inconvenienced you." Damon's eyes flowed over the play of muscles as Mr. Mikaelson shrugged from his suit coat and extended it to her. Her fingers grazed his palm as she took the coat. It was thick and warm around her shoulders. The smell of old books, bourbon, and leather whispered under her nose. "Have a good night."

"You won't do me the courtesy of telling me the name of my hero?" Damon exaggeratedly batted her eyes.

"I do believe that Tony already informed you." The man smiled. Damon flushed. "Do be more careful."

The feeling of a hand patting her cheek dragged her back to the waking world again.

"Shhhh, Damon, go back to sleep." Great, the two lovebirds were also drunk. Stefan had apparently felt the need to check on his sister before following Elena upstairs.

"I am so not going to let you live this down when you sober up." Stefan only grinned in response before giving her a sloppy kiss on her forehead and tossing an afghan over her legs. Damon rolled her eyes and curled up to the back of the couch, pulling up the blanket, as Stefan stumbled up the stairs. A small smile touched the corners of her mouth as the warmth of the blanket lulled her under again. Maybe she would let him live it down after a week. Maybe two.

The second time she saw him was two months later. She was visiting an old friend in Boston and made a detour afterward to a local café for a cup of coffee and the morning paper. Mr. Mikaelson had walked in through the front door a few hours later. His hair was slicked back and the wore another suit with grey and green accents. Their eyes had met and he walked over to her table.

"May I?" Damon glanced up from her coffee long enough to motion for him to sit. The eyes of the cafés male patrons stared enviously at the newcomer. He pulled out the chair across from her with a grace that seemed too natural even for their kind. "Why have you been following me?"

Damon glanced up in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"Please, don't play dumb with me. I do not have the time for it." His hand shot out and gripped her wrist painfully. "Why are you following me? I won't ask again." His eyes drew her in and she felt a cool sensation trickle through her brain. She hadn't felt anything like it since Kathrine.

"I wasn't following you, Mr. Mikaelson." Damon leaned across the table snarling, trying to jerk her arm out of his grasp.

His eyes bored into hers for a moment before he released her. "I believe you. A happy coincidence then."

"Not according to my wrist," Damon muttered as she stroked the offended limb.

"I apologize; I can't afford to have much faith in coincidence." Damon rolled her eyes at him and returned to perusing the newspaper. "If I may," Damon looked back up at him "I would like to buy you lunch to make up for any rude behavior."

"My mother always told me to never accept gifts from strangers." Damon snapped at him over the rim of her coffee cup.

"If you offer me your name then we won't be strangers anymore. I seem to remember that trading names is also common courtesy upon meeting new people in this country. " Damon was baffled at the man's ability to go from breaking her wrist to flirting with her to reprimanding her for bad manners in the span of less than one sip of coffee.

"You didn't offer yours, I didn't find the need to offer mine," Damon responded with a smirk. She was raised to be a proper lady by her mother and felt a flush of anger at his judgment of her manners.

"You already knew mine." He chuckled as he motioned for the waiter to bring him a cup of coffee.

"I knew from doing my research. You didn't do yours?" She taunted him. The waiter returned with his coffee and a warm-up for Damon's own cup.

"No, Ms. Salvatore, I did, but I find it more courteous to ask the individual themselves. And it is an excellent way to begin getting to know someone." She smiled at the wry grin teasing his lips. How was she finding this man charming? But the smile twisting his lips drew her in like a moth to a flame.

"Damon. Such a pleasure to meet you." She offered him her hand. He raised her hand to his lips and brushed them over the back of it.

"No, the pleasure is mine. My name is Eli-" They were interrupted by a loud bang at the front of the café and a blond haired man strolled through the front door. Mr. Michaelson's hand wrapped around her wrist in a vice and pulled her to the back exit. "We need to go." She could see the blond man advancing but the patrons swarmed the man in seconds. He must have compelled them when he first arrived in town, Damon thought. The exit burst open and he pulled her into a dead run.

The wind whipped her hair, her dress tore, and her heels were lost as he ran at a speed she could not keep up with. They ran for what felt like hours. At one point Damon could have sworn she felt fingers grasping at her skirts to drag her back, but Mr. Mikaelson made a sharp turn and the fingers slipped away.

Suddenly Damon was standing alone in a hotel room. Her muscles ached in a way that they hadn't since her change. She felt her muscles healing and the remaining adrenaline hit her system. She sat on the bed and tried to control her breathing. Her eyes closed only for a moment.

She felt the air shift and her eyes fluttered open to see Mr. Mikaelson removing his bow tie and throwing it in the direction of the dresser. "I take it that man is who you are running from?" His eyes flicked to her, lingering on her tattered dress and bare feet.

"My apologies for the rough treatment but it would have been much worse had he caught you." He divested himself of his suit jacket before disappearing into the bathroom.

"Don't worry about it. Not every girl gets such an exciting first date." She listened to the water run for a moment before he reappeared with a towel in hand as he wiped away a few remaining water droplets. A smear of his blood still clung to a healed cut on his neck. Damon licked her lips. She did need to burn off the extra adrenaline, why not have a little fun?

"A date was it?" He asked, rolling up his sleeves as he checked his appearance in the dresser mirror.

"Well, that's what I'm calling it, even if it is just an excuse." Damon rose to her feet, her gaze locked with his as she sashayed her way over to him. She reached up to trail her hand over his shoulder as she came to stand in front of him.

"An excuse for what?" He stared down at her.

"This." She rested her hand on his exposed chest and rose up onto her tiptoes. She waited for a breath before finally closing the gap between their lips. It was slow and languid as his hands drifted to her hips. The kiss became heated and his grip on her hips tightened. She gasped as he pulled her legs up around his waist. Her butt landed on the dresser and she yanked him even closer to her. His hands burned a trail of fire across her skin as he shredded the top of her dress, his lips drawn to each new patch of exposed skin. She arched her back into his mouth as he took a nipple into his warm mouth and sucked for a moment before nipping the soft skin. Her hands quickly found the waistband of his trousers and clawed at his belt until she made it through the layers of fabric. Her hand pulled his dick from its fabric confines and gave it a teasing stroke. His hands hiked up her dress and would have ripped her panties from her had she been wearing any. He pulled away from her for a moment and she smiled at the look of surprise on his face. "Well, I clearly don't need them tonight." She smiled and as her hand slid over his exposed cock.

He growled and batted her hand away. He lined up their hips and drove into her. She threw her head back and moaned at the stretch of him inside her. He held himself still for a moment, his head cradled in her neck. Then he began rocking into her hard and fast, knocking the dresser against the wall with each thrust. Damon keened at the pleasure coursing through her veins. His fangs scraped against her throat and she retaliated by raking her nails down his back. He grunted and pushed into her harder, his hands gripping her thighs tight enough to bruise. Damon could feel herself quickly approaching the edge but every time she got close he would slow down. He held her there, just far enough away from fulfilling her need to drive her mad. She could feel his smile against her neck and knew what he wanted. Pride demanded she deny him, but the rest of her body screamed for her to yield. His words were her undoing. "Tell me."

"Please." She wailed as his thrusts increased and his fangs sank into her neck sending her careening over the edge. She screamed as she came around him, for him. She felt his hips stutter for a second as he rode out their orgasms. His fangs slid from her neck and she slumped back into the dresser mirror. He rested against her chest for a moment before pulling away, his brown eyes boring into her from under this bangs.

Damon wasn't surprised when he began dressing. This was what it was and nothing more. But she felt a pang of longing as she watched him. It was like watching a knight don on his armor.

"What? No cuddling?" Damon mocked as she hopped off the dresser and attempted to salvage her dress. The bottom could be saved but the top was in ruins.

"Mi-That man from before will be looking for me. It is best I don't linger." Damon snatched the coat from Mr. Mikaelson's hand and slid it over her exposed torso.

"We're going to run out of clothes if they kept meeting like this." She enjoyed the look of lingering lust on his face as his eyes skimmed over her now clothed form.

As she did up the buttons on the suit coat her mind brought up an unpleasant truth. She would not see him again. Their meeting a second time had been an accident of a more pleasurable nature. If he had managed to elude whoever was chasing him for hundreds of years what hope did a vampire who hadn't even reached triple digits have? Her eyes lingered on his form as he finished dressing and ran a hand through his hair. What was it about him that drew her to him so? Damon wanted to find out and, after all, what else was she going to do with eternity? And anyway, she could use a little adventure.

"Well then, we should get going." Damon swayed her hip as she walked out the door. She could feel him follow her to the street. She raised her hand and a taxi pulled over. She opened the door and cheekily motioned him inside. He slid into the car and she followed after.

"Are you sure you want to come?" He asked after they settled in the taxi.

"Of course, you still owe me lunch." Damon leaned over the bench seat and let her tongue trail over the smear of blood on his neck. His hand snapped up and wrapped in a firm grip around her neck. She smiled at him and chased the last traces of blood from her lips with her tongue.

"Tell me, where are we off to, Eli?" He motioned for the cabbie to start driving.

"No one calls me Eli." He said as she settled against his side.

"Well, looks like I will have to remedy that." Damon smiled. He eyed her for a moment before turning to compel the driver.

"Tell me, have you ever been to California, Damon?"

"Damon?"

"DAMON."

"DAMON!"

Damon blinked her eyes.

"You okay? You were sleeping pretty deep there." Bonnie rested her hand on her friend's shoulder. Bonnie's grimoire sat next to her on the coffee table; ready for use should normal means fail to wake Damon.

"Just having a very vivid dream." Damon rubbed her eyes before running her hand over where the phantom bite mark had been.

"I know. That was why Alaric said you needed to talk to me. Judging from the way you were practically humping the couch it didn't look like you minded much though." Bonnie chuckled and raised an eyebrow.

"If it were just the dreams I wouldn't mind." Damon groaned, rubbing the heels of her palm into her eyes as she sat up.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean there are other side effects. I know the words to songs I have never heard. I dream about having done things I never did. I know the dance steps to music I have never danced to. And-" Damon paused knowing the next words seemed even crazier than normal Mystic Falls crazy.

"And?" Bonnie's brow crinkled and her hand already inching towards her grimoire.

"And there is a man," Damon whispered. Bonnie's voice became incredulous.

"A man? In your dreams? Damon nothing about this is overly odd." Bonnie's voice softened to the tone she used then Elena was being overly anxious. Damon groaned.

"Not just in my dreams. When I was at the bar with Alaric he spoke to me, touched me, like he was standing right there." Bonnie perked back up.

"Alaric?"

"What? No, not Alaric. It was the man from my dreams. And for the record: Ew." Damon grimaced. She had the feeling she would need more bourbon and soon.

"Did you see him, this… specter?"

"No, but-It was weird. I felt his presence but it was as if his being there was normal." Bonnie raised an eyebrow. "I mean it felt like I knew him. But I swear I have never met this man before."

"And you're positive it is the same man from your dreams." Bonnie bit her nail like she always did when thinking.

"The very same one."

"Can you tell me anything about him? Hair color, eyes color, height, weight anything?" Bonnie snagged a pen and clipboard from her bag.

"I remember." The image of the man distorted again and again in her mind's eye until pain bloomed behind her eyes. Damon moaned. "It hurts when I try."

"Don't focus on him, think about other things like what he did or you did in the dream. It may give you clues." Bonnie motioned for Damon to close her eyes. She did with a huff and focused on the bits of the dreams she could remember. He had lifted her up. "He's strong." She had to tilt her head to look him in the eye. "He's taller than me." He had a habit tossing his head to get his hair from his eyes. "His hair was longer than average. I remember it being so soft."

"Soft? You were close enough to touch it?" Then the familiar a note of Bennett suspicion crept into Bonnie's tone. "Damon, did you have sex with him?"

"Yes." The phantom feeling of hands gripping and bruising her thighs ghosted over her. She shuddered.

"Did you feel it just now?" Bonnie set down the pad and pen in favor of reaching out for her grimoire.

"Yes, but I don't see why the fact that I slept with him is important." Damon really wasn't in the mood for girly talk, especially girly talk involving ghostly dream lovers.

"It gives us an idea about how you knew him" Bonnie shrugged.

"I didn't have a welcome mat between my legs but I wasn't a prude either, Bonnie. It won't cut it down that much."

"You felt like you knew him?" Damon nodded. "Then chances are he was around for a while and not just someone to spend a night with." Bonnie's eyes lit up for a moment.

"Oh, I usually get hurt when you get that look."

"Oh, hush. I just have a question." Damon motioned for her to continue. "You said he touched you while you were at the bar?"

"Yeah, so?" The do-gooders of Mystic Falls really needed to get better at getting to the point. Especially during Damon-did-something-wrong-Again lectures.

"Did anything happen around that time that might stand out?" Bonnie pulled her grimoire on to her lap.

"Alaric and I were at our usual spot, drinking bourbon and shooting the breeze." Her fingers trailed over the path the man's tongue had taken.

"And what happened just before you felt him?" Bonnie was thumbing through her grimoire and tracing her fingers over the clean pages. She had cursed it so only she could read it unless she gave the person permission. Damon had permission most of the time since most of the time they were in danger. It was odd for Damon to think that almost all of the people she called her friends started out trying to kill her or her trying to kill them.

"Alaric was telling me to get help and he put his hand on my shoulder." A phantom touch gripped around her waist.

"Maybe he's jealous." Bonnie teased. "Perhaps we should take you out and see if it works in other situations, might be handy in a fight."

"He's killed anyone who's harmed me, so maybe," Damon muttered before she blinked in surprise.

"You remember that?" Bonnie asked leaning forward.

"No, I just….said it." The phrase felt as normal as saying her name. A simple statement of fact.

"So he was like a boyfriend or…." Bonnie's gaze drifted to Damon's left hand. "Damon, when did you say these dreams started?"

"A few weeks ago. Why?"

"A few weeks ago, you found and started wearing that ring a few weeks ago?" Damon looked at the seemingly harmless piece of metal wrapped around her finger.

"Yeah, I started having the dreams the same night." Bonnie pulled Damon's hand onto her lap and muttered a spell. The ring glowed red for a moment and then returned to normal.

"It is just a ring. No dangerous magic tied to it. There is a spell on it, but nothing that would do this."

"What's the spell?" Damon looked wearily at the band as if it might cause her finger to fall off.

"I'll have to take off your ring to find out." Bonnie pulled on the ring. It wouldn't budge. "Did you put this on with superglue?" The ring refused to even twist around Damon's finger.

"Here, let me try before you break my finger." Damon slid the ring off with ease and handed it to the witch.

Way to much research and not enough coffee or alcohol later Bonnie had their answer. "It was ten minutes, Damon," Bonnie said, rolling her eyes.

"Well, good news, I know what kind of spell is on it." Bonnie pointed to a passage in her grimoire. "It's a protection spell. Most objects with this kind of spell have wording worked in to stop outside forces from removing the object." She handed the ring back to Damon. She automatically went to slide the ring back onto her finger but paused for a moment.

"It is safe to wear it right?" Damon glanced between her friend and the ring.

"You would know better than I would." Damon donned the ring and tried to ignore the feeling of calm that settled over her. "But I think it's safe to say that, whatever this is, you're not dreaming."

"What do you mean?" Damon asked as she twisted the ring around her finger in a nervous habit long forgotten.

"Damon, whoever that man is, he actually exists. You're not dreaming, you're remembering. I think someone tampered with your memory. And I think I know how to fix it." Bonnie flipped through her grimoire to another page. "Best news yet, we have everything I need for the spell right here."

It took only a few minutes to gather the candles and other doohickeys Bonnie needed for the spell. Damon reclined on the couch with her head on Bonnie's lap.

"Just do me a favor, Bonbon, and don't accidentally erase all my memories." Bonnie snorted and settled her fingers over Damon's temples.

"Oh, the temptation." Bonnie smiled at the vampire on her lap and began chanting.

Immediately Damon's head felt like it had caught fire. She screamed, feeling Bonnie fall away from her as darkness devoured the room.

They had been running for seven years now, always one step ahead. It had been a bad week. Whoever Eli was running from had sent another vampire to try to lure Eli out into the open. Instead of going after Eli they had come after Damon, using her screams to draw him out. Eli had gotten her back but the other vampire had escaped. Eli had torn the chains from her and lifted her gently from the chair. "You realize this the third time you've saved my life?" She muttered from where her head was buried in his neck.

The trip back to the hotel was quick and Damon moaned at the feel of soft sheets against her wounds. Her eyes squeezed tightly shut against the light from the bedside lamp as it clicked on. His warm palm pressed against her cheek and stroked her face until the grimace of pain smoothed.

"You need to heal." Damon expected to feel the weight of him leave the bed as he went to order a bellhop or maid but the sound of fangs slicing through flesh confused her. Warm blood dribbled against her lips and her mouth opened hungrily.

The blood was sweeter than any she had ever drunk. She groaned at the taste and raised a hand to caress the arm. The blood coursed through her and she felt her wounds closing faster than they ever had before. After a few more pulls, her eyes fluttered open to stare at Eli. He watched her closely as she sipped from his wrist. She felt pleasure shoot through her at the look of want on his face. Damon held his gaze as she released his wrist and dragged her tongue up over the healing wound. His brown eyes went black and Damon felt the bed quake as he lunged over her. He pushed her into the mattress, his lips devoured her. Her dress was reduced to ribbons by his desperate hands, quickly followed by her slip.

Eli pulled her legs around his waist and pushed into her. Damon arched off the bed at the sudden sensation of being filled. Eli usually took his time but he moved in her like a man possessed. Her eyes stayed on his as he leaned over her, arms braced by her head as if to guard her against the rest of the world. Their chests brushed with every thrust and their breaths mingled. Damon could feel her orgasm coming and clenched around Eli to drag him with her over the edge. He came with a shout to match Damon's own scream. His arms gave out and he fell top of her as she clutched him to her. She could feel the flutter of his eyelashes against her neck as he rested for a moment before pulling away. Damon was surprised to realize that he was still fully clothed, having only taken the time to undo his fly.

He stared at her stretched out across the hotel bed. Ever the showoff Damon stretched and arched her back to display her body to him. "All healed and very satisfied. If only our boys overseas were getting this kind of care." The flicker of a smile would have set her still heart fluttering years ago.

"I have to go, there are matters I have to attend to. Stay here and rest." Damon hummed agreement, her eyes already closing. She would need to eat someone in the morning to regain her strength. She felt a blanket being pulled over her and heard the sound of the hotel door clicking shut.

Damon heard the echoes of screams and pleading, but the darkness was consuming her again and she fell into it willingly.

She awoke to the sight of Eli in the bathroom in a red strained suit washing blood from his hands with a fresh bellhop compelled and waiting by the side of the bed. She had fed and sent the boy on his way with a generous tip. Lounging against the headrest she watched as Eli shed his suit. Each piece of ruined fabric carefully folded for the maids to mend later. He stood at the foot of the bed in all his glory. He gave her a soft smile as her gaze examined him for injury.

"I have one more errand to run." He said reaching for another pair of pants.

"It can wait until morning, can't it?" His hand hovered over the clean clothes.

"It would be best if it was done tonight." he began pulling on the linen shirt.

"Fine." Damon turned to face the wall.

The bed dipped for a moment and his firm body pressed against her back.

"Many of the vampires do not have daylight rings so perhaps you are right and this is better left for morning."

"My three favorite words." She felt him grin against the nape of her neck.

"Sleep, love."

He was gone when she awoke but another bellhop waited by the foot of the bed holding a single yellow rose.

The next evening he came to her with a box cradled in his hand. The woodwork was exquisite. The outside carefully engraved with flowers. Damon rested in the now empty claw foot tub letting herself air dry after a long relaxing bath. Eli crossed the floor and crouched at the side of the tub. Moonlight filtered in through the open window turning Damon skin a glowing ivory.

"And where have you been today?" She pretended that the needy waver in her voice wasn't there. She was Damon Salvatore, she didn't need anyone and she damn well didn't need anyone to protect her. She felt the burn of anger in her chest at her weakness. The same weakness her father had despised her for. A warm hand on the side of her face pulled her from her revelry.

"I had a few loose ends to tie up." Damon felt a surge of warmth at the thought of how those loose ends had been tied up. Eli was a sight to see when he was killing; a powerful predator that had yet to find a worthy challenger. "And I needed to retrieve something from one of my vaults." Damon arched an eyebrow as he raised the box for her inspection. Gingerly she lifted it from his grasp letting her fingers trace the intricate designs.

"It is beautiful." Damon's hand rested on the lid and she looked at him questioningly.

"Open it." He nodded. Her fingers found the small latch and the lid popped open. Inside was a ring. It was made of three silver strands winding around each other with sapphires and diamonds.

"Eli…" Damon glanced at him as he lifted the ring from its resting place.

"This ring is a symbol of my line. If you wear it all who see you will know you are under my protection. It will protect you from most, but not all. It will gain you many great allies but also powerful enemies." His eyes never wavered from her.

"If I wear this ring it won't only mean I am protected by you, will it?" It was then she saw a flash of uncertainty.

"No, Damon, it would not only be my protection. Unless my protection is all you wish of me." His voice caught.

A new life as a vampire and Damon never even considered this to be a possibility.

"Well then, Eli I-" She felt her heart and her mind come to an agreement for the first time in a long time. "I accept your protection and all else wearing your ring entails." He took her left hand in his and slid her daylight ring from her finger, replacing it with his ring. Her daylight ring went on her right hand and it was done.

His arms lifted her from the tub and he carried her to their bed. They made love that night until their bodies gave out. Damon awoke to the weight of Eli at her back and the image of their intertwined left hands, her ring glinting next to his own signet ring.

A pounding in her head dragged Damon back to the waking world. Her bed sheets were twisted about her and her pillows were knocked to the floor. Bonnie sat on the edge of her bed watching her. The left side of the witch's face showed signs of bruises forming.

"Did I do that?" Damon reached up to cup the witch's cheek.

"You and the spell. Seems there is something blocking my magic from returning your memory. When it caused you to start screaming it activated the ring and it sent me flying." Bonnie frowned. "I'm more concerned about what it did to you. You looked like you were being tortured. Stefan had to hold you down. You spooked all of us."

"Well, that was my intention. Start losing my mind and terrify all the kiddies." Damon groaned as her strength gave out and settled back on the bed. Bonnie handed her a warm mug of blood and helped her sit up enough to drink it.

"You feeling okay?" Damon's eyes drifted to the hunched form of her brother leaning against her door frame.

"Hunky dory." She replied in a sarcastically chipper voice. Bonnie took the mug from Damon's lips when it was empty.

"I'll see myself out. I think there may be another way to find out what is going on without putting us all at risk again." Bonnie swept out of the room with one last worried glance.

Stefan shuffled his feet and glanced at his sister. Damon groaned and tugged at the covers.

"Oh for heaven's sake, I am too tired for this right now. So both you and your hero hair need to leave or get in this bed so I can sleep." She had barely finished the sentence before she had an arm full of puppy-eyed brother. Damon flopped a hand at the bedside lamp until it turned off before wrapping her arm back around her brother.

"Damon?" Stefan whispered.

"I am trying to sleep, Stefan." Damon refused to open her eyes.

"You're going to be okay, I promise." The ghost of lips on her cheek reminded her of the times he would sneak into her room during thunderstorms, even when their mother was alive. He would have to sneak past Father's room to reach hers but he came anyway. He never knocked for fear of the storm and would burrow into her side, hidden in the depths of her covers. When Father had found out he had beaten Damon for making his son soft and given Stefan a stern lecture on being a man worthy of the Salvatore name. Stefan had never come to her after that but she had heard his whimpers and cries of fright through the walls. Had those days really been so long ago?

"Of course I am. I'm much too stubborn for anything else. Now go to sleep." Stefan tucked his head under her chin and Damon stroked the back of his hero hair as it tickled her neck.

It was a thunderstorm to remember. The sky was painted black and constantly lit up by flashes of lighting chasing one another through the darkness. The windows were open and the wind rattled the shutters. The band in the bar under their room crept up through the old floorboards. Eli's shirt tails snapped against her thighs as she fingered the small buttons, lost in thought. Two arms wrapped around her and pulled her into the bare chest behind her. "You're cold," Eli whispered into her ear.

"And you are very warm." She snarled back. She turned her face up to his to receive a soft peck on her lips. "It is beautiful." Her voice was nearly lost in growl of the thunder.

"My siblings and I would watch the storms together. The younger ones always hiding behind the elders. Except for my youngest sister, she would always stand in front of one of my brother's. She was so protective of-" His voice trailed off. "Not much point in remembering now."

"Those are the two you are chasing?" His lips pressed against her neck for a moment and Damon knew her question would go unanswered.

"It seems a shame." Eli pulled her away from the window.

"And what is that?" Damon asked as he moved her to the center of their hotel room. Their bare feet padded softly on the hardwood. He still wore his slacks but had forgone the rest of his usual suit. Different but not surprising since Damon had already pilfered his shirt.

"That I have had you for so long and yet I have never danced with you." Eli bowed slightly and offered her his hand. Damon smiled and rested her hand on his. He led her into a waltz as the rain stained the wood at their feet, the music and wind howled through the room, and the lighting lit their steps in flashes of brilliant white.

Damon chose to get over this the only way that made sense, while Bonnie looked for a magical cure. Damon went to bar to drink and take someone home. She avoided the Grill since she would probably run into one of the goodie-goodies she seemed to be unable to not make friends with and they would talk her out of it. But tonight she needed to get away from lingering touches and an elegant voice whispering filthy desires in her ear.

She was on her second drink when she saw a suitable candidate. Unlike most of the patrons, he was clean, well dressed, and looked to be over the legal age limit. Someone really needed to talk to Sheriff Forbes about underage drinking. The town might as well not have an age limit for all that the teenage party crowd paid attention to it.

Damon trailed her eyes over the man's lean form and winked. The man flustered for a moment but seemed to listen to the last minute pep talk from his drinking buddies and, swigging the rest of his drink, began making his way over to her. She smiled. This was easier than she expected.

She spoke too soon as a ghost hand began slipping up the inside of her thigh. She readjusted herself on the bar stool and turned to face the stranger as he leaned against the bar beside her.

"Can I buy you a drink?" He offered.

"No, but you can come with me to the bathroom and let me fuck you 'til you can't remember your own name." Not her first choice in places to have sex but she didn't want to be interrupted and her house seemed to have turned into grand central station since meeting Elena Gilbert and her Scooby gang. The man seemed taken aback for a moment and glanced over at his friends. They gave him a goofy thumbs-up that they seemed to think she couldn't see. The phantom hand slid to the top of her jeans and toyed with the button.

"Uh-yeah-sure. I mean that sounds nice." The man stuttered. Damon fisted her hand in his shirt and dragged him into the bathroom. She slid the lock closed as if it would keep the presence from following her. She slammed her chosen conquest into the wall and shoved her tongue down his throat. She didn't need romance. She just needed this need to stop and this was the best way to do it.

And it wasn't working. Damon felt nothing. She ripped his pants open and felt mild disgust at his Tweedy-bird boxers but that was it. He was nice looking, clearly knew what he was doing despite what the boxers might suggest, and Damon was bored. She pushed him away from her growling in frustration.

"Is everything okay?"

"My sex life is being ruined by a Ghost re-make wannabe." Damon gripped his chin and compelled him. "We just had sex, it was the best of your life, and you are going to leave this bathroom in fifteen minutes with a smile on your face." No need for her reputation to suffer. She paused for a moment. "And get new boxers." The man slumped to the ground.

Damon felt a tug at the back of her head as if someone was pulling her hair exactly how she liked. "Oh, shut up." She sped out of the bathroom at full speed, pretending not to hear the laughter echoing through her mind.

Damon wasn't sleeping anymore. The dreams became too vivid and she would wake up covered in cooling sweat. Stefan had even tried to wake her when they became too intense. She had broken his nose before she had fully woken. Damon had stopped sleeping after that. But even as a vampire her body could only take so much neglect. Bonnie was at the end of her rope trying to find a spell to undo the damage.

Damon sat as she listened to Stefan and Bonnie argue for the thousandth time over what to do. Stefan took his frustration at the lack of a solution to help his sister out on the witch and Bonnie took her fear of losing her best friend and anger at her own shortcomings out on him in return. Caroline had given up on mediating. She handed Damon a glass of bourbon.

"I thought I wasn't allowed the good stuff anymore." Damon could feel her skin pull over her bones and her muscles ache in protest.

"At this point, I don't think it could possibly make anything any worse." Blondie regarded her with a concerned look.

"You don't need to worry. I'm not an original, my demised will mean nothing more than another reason" Damon's eye caught movement on the far wall, "to throw a party". Her voice trailed off as the wall dissolved into a familiar but elusive scene.

"I can't believe you did that to me!" His gaze was calm as he regarded her less than imposing figure.

"It was a necessary precaution." How was he always so calm and reasonable? It made Damon's blood boil.

"A necessary precaution?" She felt the bitter laugh rip past her lips. "I have seen you do that to dozens of people. And now I find out you did it to me too? I trusted you, Eli."

"It was necessary to keep you safe, you have seen what he will do to anyone he thinks is in his way. I had to protect you just like-" His voice cut off.

"I have seen what he can do. That is why I need to be at full strength at all times. Not wandering around missing half my mind because you suddenly thought-" He looked away from her. "Oh my God, This isn't the first time you did this to me, is it? This is just the first time…" Damon could feel her eyes burn at the betrayal. "How many times, Eli? How many times have you done this to me?" Her voice rose as tears flooded down her cheeks.

"Anytime you left the house without me." Damon's mind flew back to every kiss he had given her goodbye, could feel the confusion around her departure and arrival at their various hidey holes. They had been together for over a decade and a half now. "So every time you kissed me before I left was to make sure you were close enough to- enough to-" Her voice finally gave out.

"I needed to protect you and this was the only way." His hand reached out for her arm and she snatched it away.

"Do not touch me, you have no right to touch me anymore." She snatched her suitcase from the bed and crossed to the door.

"Damon." His voice was strained and she could hear the distress in it.

"I wish I couldn't remember you now." She slammed the door behind her and headed for the train station. She hadn't seen her brother in years; perhaps it was time for a visit.

A hand grabbed her by the arm and she slammed the pencil she had been using to hold up her hair into her attacker's neck. She felt the ring pulled from her finger and she pushed the pencil in deeper. But a few murmured words and her world went dark.

She awoke on a train. Her departure from the hotel was clear in her mind but the plans she and Eli had made and the specifics of the hotel they had been staying in were gone. She could also remember the apology and the kiss he had pressed to her temple. The ring hung on a chain around her neck. She pretended not to cry at the thought that they were truly over.

"Wait, what did you just say?" Caroline's blonde head got in the way of her view and the world dissolved only leaving Damon with the feeling of longing.

"Wait?" Damon parroted back still staring at the wall that had returned to normal.

"Bonnie, I think I may have a way to help Damon."

The Scooby gang only took a half hour to assemble since most of them were less than human now.

"If there is anyone who might know what is wrong with her it would be them." Caroline had taken charge of snacks and leading their little gathering.

"Need I remind you that any time we tango with an Original, things haven't gone that well?" Damon muttered. Stefan had confiscated her bourbon before she had even taken a sip. Her face was buried in the couch enjoying the ghostly back rub from the hands that had become a constant in the last few weeks.

"You don't get a vote." Stefan snapped before turning back to Caroline. If Damon had even a little bit of energy left she would feel bad for her brother. She knew he was worried but she was too tired to give even a tenth of a fuck. "Bonnie hasn't been able to find anything in her grimoire." The witch snarled at Stefan, before pushing Damon up enough to slide onto the couch. She settled Damon's head on her lap. Between the hands on her back and Bonnie's hands stroking her scalp, Damon could feel the elusive strands of sleep taunting her again.

"We won't be bringing them here." Caroline quickly pulled them back on track. "I know Klaus is staying in French Quarter in New Orleans. I figure if I make a trip down there he may be able to help."

"And what makes you think he will help you?" Damon groaned. "And don't you remember what happened to the last Beauty that went to a beast's castle? Stockholm syndrome."

"Very funny. And as to getting him to help us? I guess I'll just have to wear my best push up bra." Caroline struck her Wonder Woman pose and Damon snorted.

"To push up what?" Bonnie smacked her on the head for that one. "Seriously, Blondie, why are you doing this?" Damon eyed Bonnie wearily for anymore flying limbs.

"Because somehow despite our more than rocky start, we are friends and this is what friends do." Damon could already see the cogs turning in the blonde's head as to what to pack and what was the fastest way to New Orleans.

"Friends? Don't I have a say in this?" Damon managed to catch Bonnie's hand before it could make contact.

"No," Caroline said darkly and flounced out of the room.

"Can't I just die in peace?" Damon moaned. She regretted her words as she watched pain and sorrow flicker over her brother's face. The phantom hands on her back moved to her eyes lids and pressed them closed.

She twirled the amber liquid around the glass. Whiskey wasn't her preferred beverage but it was her brother's. Her brother who was off to fight a war that didn't even matter to them, they would outlive any dictator by a thousand years. A brother she should be with right now. Who the hell was Lexi to tell her she wasn't allowed to be with her brother? The glass shattered in her hand. The shards sliced open her palm and she watched as her own blood ran in rivulets down her arm. Even Eli was gone now. They had argued and she had left, slamming the door behind her. She chuckled. If there was ever something she was good at it was ruining any relationships that mattered to her.

She didn't flinch when a hand grabbed her own and a neatly folded pocket square dabbed delicately at the blood. Her eyes followed the crisp lines of the suit arm up to a familiar face. His eyes were understanding of her hurt and questioning of the cause at the same time. She hated it. She hated it when he pulled her into his arms and the room shifted to his newest hotel room. She hated the way he settled her on the bed. She hated the way he held her on his lap. She hated the way his suit crumpled under her shaking hands. But most of all she hated the hot tears that stained his shirt. She hated that she had spent the last six months worried she would never feel his touch again.

He stroked her hair as her sobs became gasping hiccups before slowing to a still, breathy silence. Later she would ride him until her thighs burned and his hands left familiar bruises on her hip. In the morning he would slide the ring back onto her finger and worship her body, muttering benedictions into her skin until she came apart under his touch. Then they would talk about plans, completely forgetting about the argument from before. But for now her head rested under his chin and the world rattled outside their window.

Caroline had been gone a week when Damon reached her breaking point. Caroline had yet to find anything in New Orleans since a witch in the French Quarter had been murdered and it had taken a whole week to clear up the mess. The tired note in Caroline's voice had saved her from Stefan's lecture.

Bonnie had moved into the mansion to begin caring for Damon. Damon hadn't slept at all in a week and a half. The phantom person was now constantly in contact with her and the hallucinations had reached a level at which she couldn't determine what was real and what wasn't.

But the worst was how weak she was, she hadn't felt this powerless since she was trapped by Augustine. Her strength was gone, she struggled to eat, her senses felt were like they were coming through water, and she could barely talk anymore. Her body was beginning to desiccate and she had heard her brother and Bonnie mention using it as a temporary solution until they found the permanent one for her condition. Damon had voiced her opinion of shoving that idea the same place she told Stefan to shove his hair products the week before. But the concerned look on both their faces gave her the feeling her opinions were beginning to count less than Little Gilberts. Said boy had been over several times to try and cheer her up. That had consisted of horrible puns, video games, helping him with homework, and making out with Bonnie when they thought she couldn't hear them. Elena had stopped coming saying that seeing her friend like this hurt too much. The only thing that seemed to give her any comfort was the small box and the ring that glinted on her finger. She would run her fingers over the markings for hours. Something told her the secret was locked away in the meaning of the two strange objects but anytime she thought about them or the dreams her head would feel like it was being split open.

Damon glanced up at her brother through exhausted eyes. He was saying something but she couldn't hear over the music ringing in her ears. Her brother pulled a knife from his pocket and moved towards her throat. The ghost hands pulled her violently from the couch. She slammed into Stefan and sent him sprawling across the rug. "Danger" they seemed to say, "Damon, Run."

Damon took off towards the front door. She could hear Stefan yell for Bonnie and the witch come tearing in from the kitchen. The beginning of a spell tickled her ears as she burst through the front door. She scrambled towards her car but the keys had been taken away by her brother weeks ago. She looked frantically, her wild gaze finally settling on the woods. The hands pushed at her legs and she began to sprint into the woods. She could hear Bonnie and Stefan coming after her but she kept going. The hands were pulling her again.

"I'll protect you, Damon, always and forever." Her feet hurt and she couldn't remember how long she had been running but her legs finally gave out. Her head smacked into concrete and she could feel her body being pulled at by the hands. "I'm here, Damon." The hands stroked her hair. "Rest, Love." But no sleep came. She laid there as the world seemed to spin, her hand still clutching the box.

Hours or days later she heard the rumble of her baby and squealing of tires. Then she heard her brother's frantic tone as her body was lifted from the asphalt.

"Why was she here?" Ah, witchy was with him. Lovely. She had a feeling this lecture was going to be legendary.

"I don't know, maybe she heard us on the phone. Let's get her in the car." Stefan carried her to back seat and settled her in before offering her his wrist. Damon balked at the thought of feeding from her brother but gave in at the look on his face. He looked lost but determined.

"Caroline found something, an old spell that causes insanity in vampires. We're taking you to her so Bonnie can perform the counter spell." Damon shook her head. "After the stunt you just pulled you have no say. You were missing for two days, Damon." Damon weakly pulled his wrist from her mouth.

"I'm not cursed." She didn't know how but she knew whatever this was, that wasn't it.

"Well, it is the best we have." Stefan wiped the blood from her mouth with the corner of his shirt before exiting the car. She could hear him and Bonnie talking outside but their words were garbled. The slamming of doors announced their return to the car.

"We're six hours away. Can you have all the ingredients by then?" Damon lulled her head to the side and saw that her brother was talking on the phone. "No, we found her. She's weak. Whatever is wrong with her is getting worse." Then Damon heard it. A tone she heard in her dreams for the last three or so months. The voice was unintelligible without her senses but it was the same. Who was it? Her brain lit on fire again. And she screamed.

The feeling of a needle in her neck knocked her out.

Why couldn't she remember?

His hands were soft on her face. They had been together now for thirty years. She nuzzled his palm before rolling out of bed. He reached for her with a groan and she danced away from his groping fingers.

"I have to go meet with my Uncle." Eli raised his eyebrow. Damon rolled her eyes in response. "Great, great, great, family member several times removed. Happy?"

"Happier if you came back to bed." He sat up and Damon's gaze followed the covers as they slid down his chest.

"You have to meet with one of your informants." Damon pulled up her pants and gave a little wiggle as his gaze followed their assent. "Anyway, I will be back soon. Three days tops." Eli stood from the bed, not bothering to cover himself before coming to stand in front of her. His hands slid up her arms, thumbs brushing the sides of her bare breasts.

"Damon," his lips brushed over her ears, "Happy Anniversary". Damon leaned up and kissed him. His arms wrapped around her and he pulled her into his chest, her breasts pressed against him.

"Eli, I cannot be late." Damon pulled herself from his embrace with reluctance and grabbed a shirt. "Anyway, we have all of eternity to celebrate."

"I still wish we could spend today together." Eli slipped into his own pants. "Damon," her ears perked at the change in his voice, "I heard from one of my sources, it would seem our pursuer is closer than previously thought."

Damon's hand stilled as she pulled on her leather jacket. "You want to wipe me?"

"I promise, I will return them to you as soon as I can but for now it would be safer for you if I did." Damon stared him down for a moment before sighing. She had known him long enough to know she wasn't going to win this one. It had taken her years to trust him to do this but it was necessary if they were going to be together.

"Okay, but one more kiss for the road." Eli smiled before pulling her into one last breathtaking kiss. Damon felt him slip the ring from her finger. He placed it in its box and pushed it into her back pocket. Grabbing her suitcase she looked into his eyes and sighed at the worry in them. "You always worry too much, Eli. Tell you what, today is June 10th 1953, right?" Eli arched an eyebrow at her. "Well then I, Damon Maria Salvatore, promise that I will return whole and healthy to you, Eli Mikaelson, by June 13th, 1953. There, happy?" She smiled at his exasperated scoff, but he eventually nodded.

She looked at him one last time before closing her eyes. She hated this part. It always made her feel alone and abandoned. But his voice washed over her and the world she knew melted away.

When her eyes opened she was sitting in a taxi with no memory of how she got there and her memories of the last thirty years were fuzzy. Some moments stuck out but others faded as if they were never there. She shook her head.

"Mystic Falls please, the Salvatore Boarding House."

Damon awoke to hands grabbing her and pulling her from the car. She struggled for a moment before the familiar scent of her brother's hair gel caused her nose to crinkle. The hands were pushing at her back more insistent than ever. "Close, so close."

"Oh my god, what happened?!" Caroline's voice grated on her ears.

"No time. Are you ready to do the spell?" A brunette girl and a blonde stood around the table her brother was carrying her towards. One of the girls nodded but Damon's vision was blurring them together. Damon squeezed her eyes closed. She hadn't puked since she was human but she remembered the warning signs all too well.

The table was rough under her back. She whimpered as the chanting started.

"Wait!" But just as it started it abruptly ended by the sound of someone hitting a far wall. Damon pried her eyes open enough to see that Bonnie was the one that had taken a short flying lesson.

"What the hell was that?" One of the new girls asked.

"I was trying to tell you, she has a protection ring on," Bonnie growled.

Damon felt hands wrap around her left arm and try to tug her fingers open. The phantom hands gripped her hand in a fist and tried to keep it closed. Damon struggled to pull her hand free.

"Nnonononononono…" She felt another set of hands push her shoulders back down onto the table.

"Damon, we are trying to help you but we can't until we get the ring off. We need you to take it off or we will have to spell it off." Bonnie's voice was firm but soothing. Damon tightened her left hand as much as she could and struck out with her right. Had Damon had the frame of mind she would have made a Gollum joke but just then pain seared through her arm as one of the witches started muttering.

"Let go of me!" Damon screamed trying to lash out as another set of hands grabbed her right arm.

"What the hell is going on here?" A voice boomed through the room. No, not a voice. It was too familiar. Damon struggled to turn on her side, her eyes peering at the figure in the doorway. It was him. Damon's brain was on fire and her body ached in rebellion. But it was him. Her dreams and the figure in front of her would not mix into one solid being though, contently shifting and warping. She let out a pitiful moan.

"What did you do?" She whimpered as another figure appeared behind the first. Klaus quickly crossed the room to Caroline who had let go of Damon's right arm. "What did you do to me?" A look of confusion crossed the figures elusive face.

"We haven't done anything yet, Damon. We have to take the ring off first." Bonnie's voice would have been authoritative if not for the worry laced in it.

"Brother, I do believe the eldest Salvatore has gone quite mad." Damon snarled at Klaus from the table and used her free arm to pull the box from her back pocket where she had carried it since the dreams started.

She threw the box at the figure.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?" She screamed at the figure before her, feeling spittle fly from her mouth. Tears had begun leaking from her eyes as the pain in her head became unbearable. The Originals in the room had gone quiet as the box skittered to a stop at the figure's feet.

"Brother, that box…" Klaus' voice was soft and incredulous. The figure bent to retrieve the box, holding it reverently for a moment. The figure's steps were swift and sure as he crossed the courtyard. Damon felt the hands leave her body, phantom and real alike.

"Please," she begged, "make it stop". Her hands grasped desperately at his lapels. She felt a familiar hand, the same as the phantom, stroked down her cheek before moving to grasp her left hand.

"She has to be the one to take the ring-" Bonnie went silent as the figure's fingers gently pried her hand open and slid the ring from her finger. He cradled her face again and her eyes strained to focus on his face. A warm puff of air accompanied his words.

"Remember." The pain disappeared as her dreams flooded back to her. No, her memories. She blinked up at the figure.

"Eli?" Her voice was soft and tired but sure.

"I'm here, Darling, but you need to rest." Damon struggled to pull herself up but her muscles gave out. "Damon," she looked up into his brown eyes, the eyes she hadn't remembered to miss, "Sleep".

Her world melted away.

She didn't dream for however long she slept and she was only woken by Eli to be fed. He would hold her head as she fed from his wrist before tucking her back in.

Finally, her body awoke on its own. It no longer hurt and someone had put the fire in her brain out. She blinked a few times to check that she still knew how.

"Oh good, you're awake." Damon sat up and turned to the figure sitting in the chair in the corner.

"Hello, Eli or should I call you Elijah?" She snorted. "What the hell happened to me?"

"Do you remember how I would never let you wear your ring when I would compel you to forget?" Damon nodded. "The ring messes with the compulsion, seeing it as a harm to the wearer but not strong enough to fully remove it. When you started wearing your ring it started fighting the compulsion. That is what was causing your symptoms." His voice was clinical, cold, and uncaring. Damon hated it. She had heard every tone the man could use and this would always be her least favorite.

"Why didn't you remove the compulsion when we ran into each other again?" Her voice was guarded as she pulled herself into a sitting position. The rich, dark colors of the room and the familiar trinkets from their travels together told her she was in his room, in his bed. She leaned against the headboard.

"You mean before or after you stabbed me with the coat stand?" His voice was a harsh hiss and his eyes narrowed. Good, Damon thought, I can still get under his skin.

"I was thinking of any point in the following weeks would have been a good time." Damon snarled back.

"When I compelled you, Damon, there was an escape clause. If you didn't want to return you would not be compelled to do so. I compelled you to return to me at that hotel room on June 13th and you never came. I assumed you didn't want to come back." His voice was clipped and Damon wanted to stab him with another coat stand. Her anger boiled over.

"I didn't come back because I couldn't!" She screamed at him, rising to her feet. For all she could get under his skin, he could certainly get under hers.

"And why exactly was that, Damon? Was thirty years enough? Did you grow bored of me?" He jumped to his feet, looming over her. "I waited for you for a month. When I figured out that you weren't coming, I feared that Mikael had found you, killed you. I thought you were dead, Damon." His voice grew soft and hollow. "For decades I hated myself for letting you out of my sight and then, after years of agony and loneliness, I find you playing house with the doppelganger and your brother." He bellowed back, his shoulders heaved with every breath. He ran his hand over his face. "I was so hurt to learn that you never loved me the way I-." His voice gave out and silence dominated the room.

"Well, that explains it then." Damon murmured and slumped back onto the bed. "I went back to that hotel every June 13th, it didn't matter where I was I had to be there on that date. I once compelled a nonstop flight from Japan just to get there on time."

"Then why didn't you come back?" His voice was tired and defeated. He fell back into the chair and ran his hands through his hair. Damon ached at the hopelessness in his voice, the hopelessness she caused.

"Eli, do you know what the Augustine experiments were?" Damon's voice was a whisper as she stared at the comforter, tracing the designs with her fingers. She could feel his gaze on her.

"Tell me." She could hear the familiar tone but no compulsion followed it. She could feel the tears race down her cheeks and the truth spill willingly over her tongue. About what had happened when she reached Mystic Falls on June 11th, 1953, everything that had happened to her in that hell hole, everything she had done to escape, her shame at leaving Enzo, her feeling of nothingness as she turned off her emotions, and her life since leaving. About how lost she felt every day as if something had been taken from her. "And now I guess I know what that something was." Damon's tone was bitter and she pulled her knees up to her chest.

The bed squeaked as he stood and crossed over to the bed. "What happened to them?"

"What happened to what, Elijah? I require nouns." She could feel his hands twitching at his side to reach out and touch her, but no longer sure he was allowed. She groped out blindly, tangling her fingers with his and pressing her face against the cool smooth skin.

"The ones responsible." His voice was the familiar velvet. Damon picked at the comforter.

"The scientist? I killed him and his entire family in the end. I stopped before 'everyone he had ever met' though." Her laugh was forced and fell flat. "I missed you, you know? And I didn't even know it. Not until the dreams came back and I ached to feel you again." She finally looked up from the bed covers.

Damon's stomach dropped to her knees at the same time her dead heart fluttered. Eli stood before her, black veins running down his cheeks and his teeth sharp; a low rumble tearing from his chest. Elijah's face was livid, but his hands were gentle as he lowered himself to the bed and pulled her to him. She went willingly, her body easily finding its well-known spot in his arms. She hummed contentedly as she settled against his chest.

"I should have kept looking. I should have found you." His voice broke. His grip on her was tight as if she might slip away again. She stroked his arms and hair as hot tears burned her skin where his face was buried in her neck.

"So should of my brother. And my family shouldn't have sold me. Coulda, shoulda, woulda, didn't. And I can't say I wouldn't have done any different than you, Eli." And she knew she wouldn't have. She would have been so angry and so lost. She turned in his arms. "I think we should rest." He nodded and reluctantly made to rise. "We spent 30 years sharing a bed, Eli." She felt him pause and prayed he would stay. He stood and her heart sank to her feet. But then he towed off his shoes and Damon noticed that his usual suit had been traded in for sweats and a t-shirt. She had never seen him in anything less than business casual before. Her sickness must have taken a toll on him. "How long was I asleep?"

"A week. Bonnie feared you might not wake up." His voice was back to its stoic tone but the needle-fine cracks were still there. He flipped back the covers and slid under, careful to stay to his side as he settled onto his back. Ever the gentlemen, Damon thought rolling her eyes. She shuffled under the covers as well and lay on her back. The distance between them felt even farther than even when they were trying to kill each other.

They lay in silence for an ever-expanding eternity, or at least that was how long Damon felt it was.

"Fuck it." She muttered and rolled over to Eli's side of the bed.

"Damon?" She scooched under his arm, pulling it around her waist as she nestled into his side, and rested her head on his chest.

"Go to sleep." She murmured.

Damon didn't dream that night.

Her eyes slowly opened again to be met with miles of soft cotton pulled over strong muscles. Eli had rolled over on to his side sometime in the night and was cradling her to his chest. One hand wrapped around her back and the other rested against her head, keeping it tucked under his chin. One of Damon's arms was trapped between their bodies with the other wrapped around his waist and her legs tangled with his. She took a moment to enjoy the familiar feeling of lying in his arms.

"I know you are awake." She said glancing up at his warm brown eyes.

He hummed in acknowledgment and Damon could feel his voice as it rumbled through his chest. "We will have to talk to your brother and friends soon. He has been sick with worry." Eli seemed to take a deep breath before he extracted himself from Damon's arms and the warmth of the bed.

"That sounds like him." Damon propped herself up on her hands. Eli in sweats was not a sight she had ever expected to see. It was surreal seeing the usually poise man in such a state of disarray. It helped that the sweats hung tantalizingly low on his hips and the t-shirt had ridden up.

His fingers trailed over the side table before wrapping around a familiar box. "I suppose I should be going." He made towards the door. Damon ran in front of him, blocking the door.

"What are you doing?" She demanded.

"I am going to inform your brother that you are well." He said with a tone that implied this should have been obvious.

"I meant what are you doing with my ring?" She put her hands on her hips, a stance he knew meant she was ready for a fight.

"I assumed that you would not want it back given everything that has happened." His back straightened as his usual mask of well-earned manners slid into place.

"You do know what they say about assuming, right?" Her voice grew quiet. Her fingers twisted the edges of the t-shirt she had slept in. She figured it was one of his. "Eli, do you not want me anymore?"

"I do not think there will be anything I want more in this life."

"Eli, I would like my wedding ring back now." He stared down at her for a moment before opening the box and pulling the ring from inside. His weight shifted as he lowered himself before her and settled on one knee.

"Damon Maria Salvatore, will you do me the honor of being my wife again?"

"Only if you, Elijah Mikaelson, my Eli, will do me the honor of being my husband again." He placed the ring back on her finger and kissed it before rising to his feet and kissing her lips. Damon moaned as passion built from over seventy years apart crashed over them and the kiss became needy and frantic. She broke the kiss to drag his shirt over his head and throw it across the room. Grabbing his strong shoulders she jumped, wrapping her legs around his waist. Her fingers carded through his hair as she tried to pull his mouth back to hers.

"We need to let them know you are okay." He panted into her mouth. "And we can make it official this time. A real wedding with everyone there." Damon groaned at his distraction.

"You just want everyone to know I'm yours." She yelped as he growled at her words and gave her ass a light smack.

"You are mine. I am not ever letting you go again."

"Official wedding, huh? I suppose Damon Salvatore Mikaelson had a nice ring even if it is a mouthful." He growled again and began carrying her towards the bed. "You know what though?" His eyes locked with her and she grinned. "I think telling them can wait. I am way more interested in the second honeymoon right now."

"As my wife wishes." His voice was deep, dark and Damon felt her panties grow wet at the promise in his voice.

He dropped her on the bed and ripped his shirt from her body. Reaching for him she pulled him over her. They were fast and frantic as she yanked down his sweats and her panties were reduced to ribbons. Pulling her legs higher around him, he thrust inside her without hesitation. Damon whimpered at the familiar burn as she stretched to accommodate him. He held for a moment until she bucked against him, desperate for more. He pulled back and slammed back in, setting a brutal pace that had her yowling and raking her nails down his back. His mouth left bruises across her torso, marking her as his, before finding her lips again. His fingers slid between her legs and rubbed at her clit.

Neither lasted long and with a scream Damon came hard around Eli, dragging him into his own orgasm. He howled into her neck, riding out his orgasm with the last few thrusts. He settled over her, weight resting on his arms.

"I love you, always and forever." Her blue eyes sparkled as she held her husband.

"I love you too, Damon, always and forever. And you were right; telling the rest of them can wait."

"My three favorite words." Damon moaned as Eli started trailing kisses up her neck and he began to harden inside her. "After all we have a very long time to make up for."