TITLE : Waking The Dead

AUTHOR'S NOTE : Huge fan of Damon Salvatore. This is my first-ever TVD fanfic. Long-time fan, newbie fic writer. Please be kind. (Story started out as a one-shot...and just grew from there.)

DISCLAIMER : I don't own any of the recognizable characters. They belong to L.J. Smith, Kevin Williamson, Julie Plec, et al.,and CW Network.

SUMMARY : Damon Salvatore's spirit made a deal with a witch...a chance to relive the final 24 hours leading to his death. But there's a catch...he can change everyone's fate but his own. With only one day to live, he wonders what he can do to make a difference. AU-ish.

WARNING : Some spoilers, mostly season 4. Implied death of a major character.

CHAPTER ONE

Damon struggled, as he continued to run through the darkness. He went about blindly inside the pitch-black place, his eyes failing him...his body just about ready to give up at any moment. He had to keep running. He needed to get away from that invisible force that was chasing him, and the torture that came with it. He had been running for days...or has it been years. He didn't know for he had lost track of time. He had no idea why he was running, or who or what he was running away from. All he knew was that he would be in a world of pain once it caught up with him.

He died...that much he remembered. A stake through the heart was all it took. He died, and he had been running ever since. He recalled the first time that the dark force had caught him. It was as if it the pain was trying to rip him to shreds. Which was weird...after death, he was supposed to feel no pain. And yet, there he was. Tired, scared, alone, and in so much pain. Was he destined to go through this forever?

So...this is hell then! Damon muttered. Where was the fire and brimstone? he scoffed.

He looked forward, and slight glint caught his attention. It was like a beacon, the first sign of light he had seen in ages. He gathered his remaining strength and ran towards it. He had no idea what awaited him, but anything was better than the pain that chased him.

"Still running, I see." said a familiar female voice.

Damon stopped in his tracks. His hand shaded his eyes as he tried to adjust to his renewed sense of sight. "Emily Bennett?" he asked.

"Damon Salvatore. I have long waited to see you in here." Emily replied.

"Well, I'm sure you're not the only one. You should've sold tickets." he retorted.

A smiled crept on Emily's face. "They see you." she told him.

"They? Who's 'they'? What is this place?" he asked.

"This is your prison," she answered. "You are to spend your time in here, feeling all the pain and suffering you've inflicted upon others during your very long and miserable life. You will pay for every drop of blood that you've spilled...for every life that you've taken without remorse." she continued.

"For how long?" he gritted his teeth.

"For all of eternity." she replied.

"Yeah, I had a feeling that you'd say that." Damon smirked. "If you think that you'd make a penitent man out of me, then you are sadly mistaken. Didn't happen in life...not gonna happen in death." he scoffed.

"Such bold words coming from your mouth. You put up a brave front, considering your voice is still shaking." she said.

"I am not afraid!" he spat.

"Oh, but you are." she gloated. "Who would have thought? The great Damon Francesco Salvatore, petrified of the dark shadows from his past." she said, with a hint of glee in her voice.

"Shut up!" he screamed.

"Is that what you want? Silence? Do you want the darkness to come back? Are you really in that much of a hurry to suffer?" she taunted. She continued when she got no answer. "I didn't think so." she mocked him.

Damon lowered his head. He just wanted peace. The kind of peace that evaded him in life. The kind of peace that eluded him, even in death. His anger still consumed him. Why was he so angry? "Screw you, Emily!" he shouted frustratedly.

"What happened to you, Damon?" Emily asked him. "You were such a good man...nice and polite. A good brother and an obedient son. You had morality. How could you turn into such a monster?" she pressed.

"Katherine happened!" he answered.

"You've turned love and twisted it into some sick form of excuse." she told him. "170 years you've spent living, you had a chance to make a difference! And yet you chose to spend most of it in anger and inflicting pain upon others. Katherine made you a vampire...you became a monster all on your own." she said.

"Don't get all self-righteous with me, you hypocritical witch! You were the handmaiden of one of the most evil vampires to ever walked the face of the Earth. In your short life, how many times did you have to turn your head away while Katherine made innocent people suffer before she murdered them? Huh? You looked the other way while she toyed with me and my brother! Stefan and I, we never asked for the life we had to endure! Do not pretend that you were innocent in all of this!" Damon screamed.

"I'm not." she answered. "This is YOUR prison, Damon. I have a hell of my own." she revealed.

"So, what? You got bored over there and decided to pop by for a visit? Tell me, why the hell are you here?" he asked Emily.

"Like I said, Damon...you were a good man once upon a time. And that part of you were starting to resurface recently, not long before you died. Even though someone else can take the credit for that." she said.

"Elena." he whispered her name, clinging to it as a drowning man would to a life-preserver.

"There is good in you, Damon. Shame that it took you a while to rediscover that side of you." she told him.

Damon looked at her. "I saved your children, ensuring the safety of your bloodline. You owed me." he reminded her.

"I haven't forgotten that." she replied. "Every good thing that my descendants have done would not have happened if it weren't for you. And you're right...I do owe you." she admitted.

"All the good that does me at the moment! I'm dead, remember!" he sneered.

"It's been decided," she said. "You, Damon Salvatore, warrants another chance. Albeit, in your case, it is more like a 700th chance." she told him.

"What does that man? Are you going to bring me back from the dead?" he pressed.

"Not exactly." she answered.

"Then what, 'exactly'?" he insisted.

"We are going to 'rewind' your life...back to your final 24 hours. And in those 24 hours, you are free to do things differently. I suggest that you make peace." she informed him.

"Why do I get a feeling that there's a BUT coming?" Damon suspected.

"There is a catch." Emily told him. "You can change everyone's fate, but your own." she revealed.

"Meaning what?" Damon asked.

"Meaning that at the end of the day, when your time expires, so do you." she explained. "No matter what you do in the time that was loaned to you, it will still end the same way...your death. Think of it as a chance to ease your pain in the afterlife." she said. "You can accept those terms, or you can stay here and keep running until the darkness catches you." she added.

Damon thought of the deal that was offered to him into consideration. 24 hours? What the hell kind of difference can he make in 24 hours? He thought of his life, and the people that he left behind. His brother, Stefan...Little Gilbert...Vampire Barbie...hell, even the judgey little Witch. And then, there was Elena. He would crawl his way out of hell just to see her again, if only to make sure that she was alright, and that she stayed alright. Yes, 24 hours was a very slim chance to make any difference, considering he had spent at least three lifetimes causing people pain...and yet, it was a chance nonetheless.

Damon looked up and met Emily's eyes. "I accept." he answered.

Emily nodded her head. "We have a deal then." she said. She moved closer to him and grabbed his left wrist. It sizzled and burned upon her touch. "And this is so you remember it." he told him.

Damon screamed in pain, as he woke up to a start. Had it been all just a dream? he asked himself. He looked around. He was lying in his luxurious bed, inside his own cozy room back in the Salvatore boarding house. He was panting breaths that his lungs did not need, his entire body covered in sweat. Was it a dream? he racked his brain for an answer.

He then discovered the dark mark on his left wrist. It was more like a brand than a tattoo. A tetragrammaton pentacle...a witch's sigil. A reminder of the deal he had made with the Bennett witch. He looked at his mobile phone for the time and date. 24 hours before his death, as promised. The clock's ticking.

~END OF CHAPTER ONE~

FOOTNOTE :

*As I've said, this was supposed to be a one-shot, that grew into something else. Let me know how you like it, please. Thank you kindly for reading. Reviews and constructive criticisms are more than welcome.