"No, no." Elena shook her head and backed away from Stefan. "That- he won't.. he can't.. it's not possible." The first sign of tears showed evident in her voice. It cracked and she tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat. "Damon is strong. He's fine." She didn't believe her own words of optimism. Stefan stepped forward. He reached a hand out to touch her arm, but instead of soothing it spooked her further.
In a flash, she was out the door and in her car. Stefan knew it was best to just let her cry herself out; release the pain she dealt so much with. Elena slammed her fists against her steering wheel, then wiped her tears away with her sleeve. She turned the key in the ignition and pulled away from her house, with Stefan standing alone inside. He watched her leave, completely helpless.
"Damon!" Elena slammed on her breaks, shut the car off and rushed inside. "Damon…" She looked around frantically, out of breath from sprinting into the house and up the stairs that led to the brothers' rooms. She finally found him laying on his bed, his eyes closed and sweat glinting off his perfectly chiseled face. His dark hair was matted to his face in a way that made him look like a child with a fever. Elena dropped onto her knees next to the bed. Damon's eyelids did not even flutter. Her head fell forward and rested against the maroon sheet, her arms nearly touching Damon's side. When she picked her head up, there was a wet spot on the sheet where her tears had seeped in. She sniffled and hiccupped.
Damon reached a shaking hand out to touch Elena's hot cheek. All sound caught in her throat when she saw his eyes open, them on her none the less, and when his cool finger gently caressed her cheek. Her heart hammered and she fought back more tears. She was afraid if she spoke her voice would squeak and she would lose all control.
"Elena…" Damon's voice was weak. "I'm so sorry…" He trailed off, his voice quiet and full of pain. "…for everything." His eyes closed again momentarily. He searched blindly for Elena's hand and when he found it, he clutched onto it for dear life. His breathing was ragged and it cut through Elena like a knife. Shaking, Elena leaned in to kiss Damon's hot forehead. Against her sensitive lips, she could feel him burning up.
"Oh, Damon…" She whispered, letting her tears fall against his face. She nuzzled her cheek against his and climbed onto the bed, needing the feel of his body; needing to physically feel that he was still there, that he was still partly alive.
With the energy he had left, Damon stroked her hair as she lay next to him. Her cries became silence that rocked and heaved with every scream she held back. Eventually, her cries and the touch of Damon's hand on her hair lulled her to sleep.
