Title: Ice
Type: Sequel; multi-chapter
Rating: T; maybe M later
Pairing: Damon/Elena
Setting: Post-2.09 ("Katerina"); slightly AU

A/N: Hello, lovely people and happy holidays! Here is the sequel to Fire (if you haven't read that one, then you'll need to head on over to it and it least skim it) which takes places place a few months after the *ahem* heart-breaking events of the previous story.

Thank you sososo much to everyone who reviewed, by the way! I was not expecting that kind of response! So thank you – truly, madly, deeply! :)

As for the alternate 'M' rated scene, I'm still working on it. I'm having a bit of trouble getting it to be what I want, but rest assured, it shall be posted eventually!

With that said, I do have a few warnings about this story. I'm not sure how many parts it will consist of yet, but I do know that it's going to be...more draining than the first, as it is going to explore some very uncomfortable things. For now it's rated 'T' but might go up to 'M' later, depending on turn of events... : ) Also, this story is set up differently than the first – using the good ol' in medias res technique!

Anyway, please read on and enjoy and remember to review! They really are the best – encouraging and helpful! If I don't post anything else before Christmas, I wish you all the best this holiday season! : )

Ice
Part I: Frozen

I can't feel my senses
I just feel the cold
All colours seem to fade away
I can't reach my soul

I would stop running
If I knew there was a chance
It tears me apart to sacrifice it all
But I'm forced to let go

Tell me I'm frozen
But what can I do?
Can't tell the reasons
I did it for you

When lies turn into truth
I sacrifice for you
You say that I am frozen
But what can I do?

-Within Temptation, "Frozen"

Damon Salvatore screamed louder than he had ever screamed in his life; as a matter of fact, it was highly unlikely that he had ever screamed in his nearly one hundred sixty-nine year-old existence. He was on his knees, blindfolded; his hands were behind his back, bound tightly in vervain-soaked ropes. He could feel his skin burning off.

His knees were bloodied and wet from being dragged through cool Virginian snow in the clearing of the Mystic Falls forest. He felt the stakes driving in and out of his body, with little time to heal in between, and he felt the cool metal of instruments of torture graze his bared skin. And most of all, he felt the teeth sink into his throat, over and over, as he was bled dry and then revived with human sacrifice.

Because when someone placed fresh blood in front of a bled vampire, it didn't matter how much control he or she had over natural instinct. The blood would be drunk until it was drained from the lifeless body.

There were two bodies strewn carelessly in the clearing because of this; a man and a woman.

Someone was behind him, yanking his hair back to expose his pale, bloody throat to the man in front of him; the man who had eluded him for so long yet whom Damon had not yet seen. Klaus.

"To think," said the cold, calculating voice, whispers of a Germanic accent penetrating it, "if Katerina hadn't run from me centuries ago, you wouldn't be in this situation, now would you Mr. Salvatore?" He gave a small, almost polite chuckle. "You should really be more careful with whom you dabble, but you were a poor fool in love, weren't you? Women are evil, charming creatures, aren't they?"

Damon didn't answer; he couldn't. His throat was raw from screaming – and those screams had been torn from him involuntarily.

"If that Petrova doppelganger bitch, Katerina, had not turned herself into a fucking vampire, we would not be in this situation, would we? You and your brother – whom I am dying to meet, by the way – would have lived out your long, healthy, natural human lives in parallel, without being seduced by a woman who claimed to love you both. But of course, you now know that she only loved – oh, pardon the tense - loves – herself."

Damon could feel Klaus standing directly in front of him, could feel the ancient man's presence.

"But that idiot Trevor really fucked things up by falling in love with her, didn't he? Love, love, love – it seems to be all about that, doesn't it, Mr. Salvatore?" Klaus chuckled. "Poor Trevor – he finally paid his dues; Elijah saw to that. Rose...well, she's another story. I don't expect to see her showing up here to beg for your freedom."

Damon trembled when he felt Klaus kneel before him. Their faces were level – he could feel it. He knew because he could feel the cool breath puffing against his skin.

"You've become quite the martyr, haven't you, Damon?" Klaus snarled out his name like it was a disease, his voice suddenly rough and low. "I thought that was Stefan's job, if I've done my research correctly – and don't even try to tell me I haven't." He dragged a fingernail down Damon's cheek, leaving a thin line of blood.

Damon felt pure terror as Klaus leaned closer.

"But I realize why you're here; of course I don't understand it, no – that would require the capability to feel. You're in love with the girl – Elena. Isn't it funny how these things work out, how history can go on repeating itself for eternity and nobody will learn from the consequences?"

The raven-haired man opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

Klaus clicked at him. "Falling in love with a Petrova doppelganger again – you and Stefan both! Is it because she looks exactly like Katerina? No, of course it isn't. There are deeper reasons that go beyond my understanding, but I still can't help but laugh at what fools you are."

There was a mild lull for a moment as Damon found himself silently hoping for death.

"Oh, I know you love Elena, Damon. I know all about your twisted little history; I have been tracking you since you returned to Mystic Falls, in hopes that you or your passive brother could lead me to Katerina. Alas, it was not the case. Although..."

Damon was terrified – he didn't know what to expect, and the fact that Klaus kept talking about the people he cared about only enhanced those horrific feelings.

"Although," Klaus repeated, hand gripping Damon's shoulder tighter than necessary, "you could have ruined everything by your ill-thought out killing sprees earlier this year. The man and the woman in the car? The couple camping? Really, Damon – do you not know anything?"

Damon felt Klaus' anger suddenly slice through him like a thousand volts of electricity. He screamed again, feeling his insides burn.

"I know you have your bloodlust under control and have had it so for a very long time. So your meaningless killings were nothing more than you trying to upset your brother." He felt Klaus's hot breath at his ear. "How petty and how irresponsible. Maybe you should have perished in that fire of the Founder's Day roundup. It would have been just desserts, wouldn't it have been? For making the Founder's Council suspect that once again, there were vampires in Mystic Falls? I've done my reading, Damon, and you are an imbecile."

"I've...I've paid my dues for those mistakes," Damon whimpered softly. He had almost been completely broken by this stranger and their encounter had lasted no more than two hours. The person behind him tightened his or her grip on his hair and gave an unnecessary pull. He didn't know who it was.

Klaus ignored him and continued his speech. "And selfish. Once again, trying to claim your brother's lover. I wonder if they know what you do when you're alone at night? How you touch yourself and call the girl's name?" Klaus chuckled darkly. "It's pathetic."

Damon felt the waves of shame and guilt wash over him as he slowly, languidly, begun to realize that Klaus knew everything about him – he didn't know how, but the fact that he knew about something so private almost made him want to weep – and in fact, under the blindfold, he could feel the angry tears forming in his eyes.

"Oh dear," Klaus murmured, "have I upset you, bringing to light these issues you refuse to confront? How about the story where Father beats you into submission, until you're crying and begging him not to? Or the one where he beats you so often in his raging fits of alcoholism that you no longer make a sound?"

Damon trembled, trying to stop the memories that were threatening to overtake the last remnants of his tainted soul. "Stop it!" he managed in a rough voice. "STOP!"

"Or," Klaus continued even more quietly, "how about the tale of the brother who gives love and receives none?" Klaus leaned forward and whispered in Damon's ear, "No one loves you."

Something tore through Damon, even more painful than any physical harm that could ever befall him. His stomach trembled and his lips suddenly parted as a sob wrenched from his throat. He didn't know what Klaus wanted from him, but he could feel his insides turn cold, to ice, as fear and pain crashed through him.

There was a light laugh, laced through and through with dark intentions. "Hush, gequälte Seele. Ich mache alles neu." He felt the hand of death graze his cheek.

Hush, tortured soul. I make all things new.

Damon knew the words; he knew many languages, though he had not used them in a long while, and he certainly did not believe that this man could make all things new.

"But enough of that. All this talk of history repeating itself is making me thirsty; I'll bet you're parched as well." Without further warning, Klaus leaned forward and tore into Damon's neck again. He could feel the smile on the ancient one's lips, feel the power emanating from him.

Yet through unbearable pain, he only had one thought, a thought that he couldn't let go of. And as he repeated it like a chant in his mind, he could feel the hazy cloud which surrounded this thought begin to lift, as he was driven to depths of pain which he had never known.

Images flashed through his mind, strangely calming him, even if he didn't understand them, as Klaus tore apart his throat.

"Don't hide from me, Damon," Elena whispered before touching her lips to his.

Her world exploded.

His world burned.

Damon was in heaven. She tasted sweeter than he had ever imagined and she held so still for it; so pliant and warm and – oh. Her blood was like sweet nectar. Stars exploded behind his closed eyes as he drew it slowly, one arm around her waist, the other stroking her hair softly. It slid down his throat with ease and he had never had a more pleasurable experience.

"No," she said softly, her eyes burning a hole through his. "Here." She touched his throat so gently that he shivered and swallowed hard.

As tears continued to slide down her face, Elena pressed her lips to his cheek and very softly murmured to him, "I love you, Damon."

He took a steady breath as he levelled himself with Elena's shocked face. He placed his hands on either side of her head and said quietly, "I love you, Elena. And that's why I had to let you go."

Damon's eyes, which had slowly been welling with tears, spilled over, the droplets running down his pale, drawn face. "I will forget tonight," he said in a hushed tone, the words leaving his lips completely against his will. Everything around him was blank – surroundings, mind, soul – blank. It was white and it was void.

The images spiralled through his head so fast that he could only catch bits and pieces of them, but he knew that they were important and that they meant more than his life. There was one more; one he could just barely touch; one where someone whispered a quiet "I love you" as a fire faded in the background.

One where soft lips touched his and murmured, "Come back to me when you can."

The thought that he had finally solidified into something tangible and gave him strength.

Elena.

It was the only thought that he needed.