Summary – Post Season 2. Stefan has joined Klaus, who has promised to return for Elena's blood. Damon is determined to protect her, and to capture her heart in the process, but can Elena ever love ALL of him? Will be bloody...
Okay, here goes my first crack at Vamp Diaries fanfiction! Actually its my first fic of any kind in over 5 years, so please read and review. Constructive criticism, ideas, and feedback of any kind are always welcome! I am also interested in possibly working with someone as a beta. PM me if you are interested, please and thank you!
This story is rated MATURE and will contain explicit language, graphic violence, sexual content, and other various depraved indignities. Please do not read if you are under 18 years of age, squeamish, or uncomfortable with violent or graphic sexual content, or situations involving bloodplay.
I don't own and did not create the vampire diaries or its characters, althought I wish I had my own Ian Somerhalder! This story is otherwise of my own invention. Please do not repost without my permission!
Without further ado, enjoy the story!
Cricketsong.1985
A/N - Apr 15, 2012 - I have recieved some very helpful and much appreciated feedback from 'Rainbow Dash' who has encourged me to be wary of 'overwriting' parts of this fic. Rainbow, I went and researched the 'purple prose' thing, and while most of this piece will remain as it is, I did go back and remove about 100 words from part one, (mostly adjectives) in effort to make things flow better without sacrificing the detail that I so enjoy writing. I hope this is more balanced and easier to read for everyone, and thank you again for your very constructive criticism!
Darkly Dreaming Damon
Chapter One
Damon felt a shiver of desire sweep through him as Elena's footsteps approached the study. He heard her push the door open and enter the room, filling it with her delicate scent. He had been steadily working his way through a bottle of single malt for the past few hours, contemplating the flames that leapt and roared in the fireplace as he soaked up the unnecessary heat. The 170 year old vampire was clad in his customary snug black t-shirt and jeans, icy blue eyes reflecting the light of the fire before them. His skin was somewhat pale, his spiky black hair contrasting it. His feet were propped on the coffee table in front of the antique settee upon which he lazed. The large bay window was open to the fresh evening air and the drapes stirred a bit, making shadows in the bright moonlight that poured in through the window. Aside from the fire and the moon, the room was murky. The spines of hundreds of books perched on the shelves that lined the walls were barely visible in the dim recesses of the warm study.
"Damon, I thought I'd find you here. Its hot in here, what are you doing in the dark?" He could tell she wasn't in a great mood from her short tone. She was going to be in a worse mood in a few minutes, he knew. All the more reason to be extra cheery until he gave her the bad news.
"Elena," he drawled playfully and sat up, pouring another scotch for himself. He turned to her and held it up as if to toast her, downing half of it. He savoured the smoky burn of the liquid as he worked it around in his mouth and swallowed. The warmth slid down his throat and coated his stomach pleasantly. He set the glass on the table, letting his gaze linger on Elena's' dark eyes for a brief second before returning his focus to the flames. When he spoke again there was a smile in his voice.
"I like the dark, and I like the heat. Goes great with this scotch. Grab a glass."
He gestured to the bottle with a grin, snapping up his glass again and kicking his feet back up on the table. His arm swung along the back of the couch, glass dangling from his fingertips. The amber liquid swirled inside, drawing Elena's gaze. Damon watched her, aware of her warmth and the steady beat of her heart in her chest. He studied her face – dramatic brown eyes framed by fine dark lashes, soft olive skin, and her lips a teasing pout that always drew his eye. Her hair was a loose silken curtain that swayed in the light breeze coming from the open window. It smelled of jasmine.
She shifted her focus onto him and shook her head, coming around to join him on the couch. Her words came out as an annoyed complaint. "Damon you said you had news on Stefan... Why couldn't you just tell me on the phone?" A wrinkle formed in between her eyebrows as she frowned at the mostly empty bottle on the coffee table before him. "You're drunk," she stated, unimpressed.
He smirked at her irritation. "Pleasantly buzzed, I would say, and I could have told you on the phone, but I was bored, so I decided that you should entertain me by dropping in for a drink." Damon's lips curled into a grin and he flashed to the bar across the room faster than Elena could see. He returned just as quickly with a crystal tumbler. He poured a double into the glass and placed it in Elena's hand. He felt her velvety fingertips brush his own and a tingle of electricity jumped through him in. Damn she was beautiful in the blush of the moon and the fire, especially when she was ticked off.
Elena set the glass on the table with an annoyed sigh. She looked tired and exasperated, and sounded the same. "Its one in the morning and I got out of bed and drove over here because you called me and made it sound like something serious happened. What happened Damon?" Her eyes bore into his as she pressed her lips into a thin frown.
Damon's playful look hardened seriously. He held up an envelope that was addressed to him in Stefan's writing. It had a bunch of stamps on it and had obviously done some travelling.
"I haven't checked the mail in awhile, I don't exactly get a lot of mail. I happened to check on my way in tonight and found this. Its from a few days ago."
Elena's face was a mix of emotions as she snatched the envelope out of Damon's grasp and fished a single sheet of paper from within. Damon made no move to stop her. "He wants me to tell you a bunch of stuff... you may as well just read the fucking thing," he said as she unfolded the paper and began to scan its contents with worried eyes. As an afterthought he added: "You'll be glad for that scotch when you're done reading it."
Damon rose and moved to the window, staring out over the moonlit yard. He listened to her heartbeat speed up and she choked back a sob as she read the short note from his brother. He knew it would make her cry, and he didn't want to see the heartbroken look on her face when she did.
He heard her crumple up the paper and throw it as she stifled another noise of sadness. It landed somewhere in a dark corner with a tiny noise that only Damon's sensitive ears could catch over the sound of her quiet sobs and the popping and hissing of logs burning the fireplace.
He was always acutely aware of every noise and movement she made when she was near him. When she was in state of heightened emotion he was painfully conscious of her scent, her breathing, and the expressions that flashed through her eyes and over her face. He already knew what he would see as he turned from the window and cast his eyes to where she was now curled on the couch clutching a throw pillow tightly against her. Tears ran down her cheeks. They glittered in the firelight and he wished he could make her feel better.
"He's not coming back, Damon... after everything... H-he said he's happy to be back to his old self..." Elena's words were barely a whisper, broken by the trembling of her lower lip. Fresh tears came and Damon recalled Stefan's written words:
'Brother,
How are you, I trust you're keeping well, especially now that I am out of your way. I'm writing from a nice little cafe in Amsterdam, lovely people here, they are delicious. I can't believe I spent so long trying to ignore what I am, how I should live. Klaus has helped me to reconnect with myself and I haven't looked back. I suppose you'll have to tell Elena sometime and she'll insist on 'saving' me. Do what you have to do, Brother, but don't let her go too far, Klaus will be back to collect some of her blood very soon. As long as she cooperates it will be quick and mostly painless, he promises. Otherwise, She had better be ready to say goodbye to brother Jeremy, or maybe Bonnie, or Caroline, or even YOU. Klaus will get what he wants, regardless of who he has to go through to get it.
I wish you all the best,
Stefan'
He knew there was the very serious matter of Klaus coming to take Elena's blood, but clearly she was more worried about losing her boyfriend right this second. For once in 170 years, Damon had no idea what to say. His eyes connected with hers and he found himself taking an involuntary step forwards. He watched her shoulders shudder as she buried her face in the pillow she was clutching and sobbed. He despised the helpless feeling that overtook him. He wanted to banish her fears and sadness, pulverize them until they were dust.
Damon turned and walked out of the study through the darkness, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. He could easily navigate his way by the moonlight, even without vampire vision. He grabbed a glass and filled it with cold water and snatched a box of tissues from the counter, carrying them back upstairs. He returned to the study and lowered himself gently beside Elena on the sofa, eyeing the untouched glass of scotch still sitting on the polished wood of the coffee table. He ignored the mixed emotions swirling in his mind. He felt everything from pain over losing his brother, to rage at both Stefan and Klaus, to desire for the beautiful creature sobbing before him, and he knew that if he let a single modicum of feeling out it would threaten to crumble the wall he'd meticulously constructed to keep himself from being overwhelmed by his emotions. Flipping the 'switch' was no longer an option where Elena was concerned – he needed to be as human as he could when he dealt with her. She had seen him as a monster many times, but recently he had been playing the good guy, and he would do what he could to stay that way as long as it helped her, even if it defied his lifelong reputation.
He reached his hand out and let it rest reassuringly on her shoulder, pleased that the warm room had warmed him too, so that he wouldn't feel icy to her. For Damon, physical contact with Elena was a teasing reminder that he could never have her. The skin of her shoulder, even through her clothing, felt like fire to him, and he was immediately more aware of her pulse and inviting scent. He swallowed and frowned internally at himself, pushing his instincts away to focus on Elena. This was no time to imagine how she would feel crushed against him, trembling with need or moaning his name in pleasure. She needed a friend now, someone to help her deal with the reality of her situation. He was determined not to abandon her, after so many others had already.
"Drink some water... here," he said softly, offering her the glass and the box of tissues. She took them and closed her puffy eyes, taking a deep drink. Damon swallowed thickly, watching her lips against the glass, and her throat moving as she drank. He looked away from her, considering the dimly lit bookshelves intently. He wanted so badly to pull her against him and protect her from anything that tried to harm her. The thought of Klaus, or anyone capturing her and forcing her to give up her blood against her will made him sick. He could care less what his idiot brother did with eternity, as long as he left Elena out of harms way. He took the empty glass from her hand and set it on the coffee table. She grabbed a few tissues, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose.
Elena didn't say anything. She leaned into Damon's hand and reached her own up, grasping his palm in her delicate fingers and pulling his arm around her. He felt her hair tickle his chin and her warm back press against his chest. She wasn't shaking anymore, she just seemed deflated. Like a bird that he would crush in his arms if he wasn't exceedingly careful. She didn't make any move to pull out of his embrace, now leaning her head back against his chest. He had never seen her look defeated before, but now she did. She wasn't suggesting they go on a rescue mission, she wasn't calling her friends to come up with a plan... she was just sitting there, starting at the fire, sniffling occasionally.
Her heartbeat was slowing into a restful rhythm, and Damon found himself entranced by it, so he did not object as she closed her eyes and settled back even more against him. She was falling asleep. It was nearing two AM, she was exhausted, and she'd learned that her vampire boyfriend was having a blast murdering innocent people and tagging along with an evil Original, and that he wasn't coming back except to take her blood. Needless to say, Damon understood that Elena was overwhelmed and in need of rest.
He could tell she was completely asleep a few minutes later, listening to her deep, slow breathing. Her petite frame relaxed and she twisted a bit so that her face was against Damon's chest. He tensed momentarily as he felt her face press against his chest. A feeling of possessiveness swam through him. He surged with a desire to protect Elena, even as his body betrayed other desires he was experiencing. He and Stefan had come into her life and completely flipped it upside down. They'd exposed her to the supernatural, vampires, curses, and evil tombs, and she had lost so many people close to her because of it, most recently her Aunt Jenna, and now Stefan. She had experienced so much pain thanks to them. She deserved to be free of it, but now there was nothing he could do. He could not go back and stop himself from returning to Mystic Falls anymore than he could undo the feelings for her that had invaded his heart and now refused to abate.
A scowl formed on his face as he carefully extricated himself from Elena's grasp and laid her on the couch. His jeans strained painfully where his erection had formed as a result of her closeness. He took a breath and tried to calm himself, but all he did was inhale more of her delicious scent, which only caused him to imagine running his hands freely over her body, and made his cock even harder. He grabbed the scotch still sitting on the table from earlier and downed it in one gulp. It burned deliciously as it slid down his throat. He tended the fire so that it would stay warm in the study for the night, and found a mohair throw to cover her with , then closed the bay window silently, locking it. She looked so exquisite strewn on the sofa with moonlight spilling all over her, making her skin glow white in its wake. It was all he could do to keep himself from crawling back onto the couch and pulling her warmth close.
Instead he left the study, blurring downstairs to the cooler to get a blood bag. He took it to the kitchen and emptied the contents into a mug. He put it in the microwave and hit the sensor match button. It was already programmed to 98.6F, which gave him the perfect cup every time. He stood in the dark watching the mug circle around on the microwave plate. His jeans weren't so tight now that he'd put some distance between their bodies, but the image of her washed in moonlight still lingered in his mind.
The microwave beeped and he retrieved his meal, taking it back to his bedroom. He contemplated going back to the study, but he could hear Elena's heartbeat and her breathing from anywhere in the boarding house, and he needed some space. He sipped at the blood as he padded down the hall past the study to his bedroom. It was the Master bedroom, with large windows and of course his custom, oversized bed, built of solid hardwood and draped in the finest white silk sheets, and goose down duvet and pillows. Damon felt the blood warm and nourish him, despite the stale, bagged, re-heated taste. Fresh was always much better, but sometimes it was nice not to have to attack, seduce, compel or kill anyone for a meal. It got to be a lot of work to hunt for every drop of blood and bags were a viable supplement to any modern vampire's diet. He set his drink on the bedside table and removed his jeans, kicking his boxers and socks off as well, and pulling his shirt over his head. He wasn't really tired, but he still liked the peace of laying in bed at night while the rest of the world slept. He sat on the edge of the giant bed and picked up the mug of blood, tipping his head back and downing the rest of it. He did not spill a drop, always being a very meticulous and clean feeder. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the full, warm, almost living feeling he got when he drank. He could feel a bit of heat in his skin, his cheeks warming with it, and for the moment he was content.
He climbed under the covers and listened for Elena's heartbeat and breath. He allowed the steady beat to lull him into a relaxed state, and he fell into a light sleep.
Ok, theres's chapter one!
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A/N: The title of this story is most certainly borrowed and tweaked from 'Darkly Dreaming Dexter,' a novel by Jeff Lindsay, about serial killer Dexter Morgan. HBO's Series 'Dexter' is inspired by Lindsay's books. If you haven't seen the series check it out!
Crickesong.1985
