Hello everyone. Yes, I have a new story to try out. It won't leave my mind at all and I have lots of inspiration for it. Don't worry, I haven't abandoned my other ones, promise : ) This idea just won't leave my head and I had to write it down.

It is kind of based off of Titanic, but it's different. The title is from the song/movie Pocahontas. And this is an all-human Delena story featuring Damon and Elena from the Vampire Diaries. I own nothing from any of the media I listed above—I do not own Titanic, the Vampire Diaries, or Pocahontas if that's an issue. I'm stating this right off the bat.

Plot: After a hand-made nude portrait is found, an aged Damon recalls a horrible tragic event in his life. And the girl that changed his life forever before it all happened.

Enjoy and let me know your thoughts on it, please. Any ideas or help, just let me know : )

If I Never Knew You

Chapter 1-The Find

The yellow dragon machines roared to life as the diggers on the end of it went to work undigging the earth below. Dirt flew everywhere and gathered on the edges of the Forest of Wicker. The sounds of the heavy machinery echoed around the large forest and screamed progress.

Or something else.

Watching all the deconstruction was a man watching with pain and excitement. His name was Alaric Saltzman. He was a doctor with a Ph. D in history. The college he worked for had asked him to do an important assignment of a haunting historical event. Being the eager student and new graduate, he aimed to please his new bosses and volunteered himself for the task.

He was in charge of finding out more about the Mystic Falls Massacre—a terrible tragedy that was the downfall of a once prestigious and progressive small town in the early 1900s.

Over 80 years ago the small town of Mystic Falls, a once proud and progressive town, was sabotaged by a massacre. The poor had uprisen against the unfair rich founding families of the town. According to the history books, not many survived and none of the founding family members had survived at all. There were a few main families back then—the Fells, the Forbes, the Lockwoods, and the Salvatores.. They ruled the town until the poor people on the other side rose up and went against them, killing anyone in their sight. Apparently, the poor were being ignored and treated terribly by the rich, starved and beaten in shameful ways. So the poor of the town decided to kill to get their message across, including the founding families. It quickly got out of control and no one survived that night.

It was a horrific night with men, women, and children alike all dead the following morning. There hadn't really been any historical documents about the town afterwards.

Well, Alaric Saltzman was up to the challenge of uncovering the truths behind that night. He had gathered a team together of builders, examiners, constructions workers for digging like what they were doing now, and a whole team of historical experts including photographers. He had everything he needed.

Unfortunately, his searches had proven futile until now. After two weeks of searching and searching, they had found nothing. Then it all changed. Overnight he had some type of epiphany, some type of prediction to search outside of where the town used to be. It was nothing but a big wasteland now, but forests surrounded the area.

That's why he was digging now. He hoped his dream was real and that they would finally find something out here.

He heard a loud DONG sound come from the ground.

"Hold on, Stop!" he shouted to the worker, waving his arms. He looked into the hole in the ground, searching frantically for the source of the noise.

A flash of metal caught his eye. His smile grew immensely. Looking back at the worker, his eyes blazed with excitement. "Dig up this safe and make sure it's dusted off. I want it in our expedition ground by this afternoon."

…..

A few hours later, the safe was delivered to the expedition sight where his crew was stationed in tents and campground buildings.

The entire crew was almost bursting with excitement. After living in this hellhole for two weeks, they were just as eager to find out what was in it as Alaric himself was. He hoped it wouldn't disappoint them.

One of the crew workers had a large clip that could go through old metal in a snap, literally. Making sure of his care, Dr. Saltzman watched him carefully as the safe was cracked open from the brass lock that was put on it.

Dust came forth in the air from the impact and the oldness of the safe. Once it had settled, Alaric indicated to his crew to wait for him to examine it. Snapping on a pair of gloves, he looked inside the safe.

There was nothing out of the ordinary that he saw right away. There were a few old copies of some books, some letters, and a booklet of some loose-leaf papers.

In other words, there was nothing of importance.

….

"Look, Dr. Hartman, I looked at all the contents of the safe. It's some old records but nothing we didn't already know before…yeah…yeah I know I promised results but I need more time…yes sir…"

As Alaric was talking to his boss on his cellphone, he was walking by one of his photograph specialists who was carefully examining the booklet they had found in the old safe underground. Taking careful consideration of the aged photographs, she was looking through them carefully when Alaric noticed a photograph. A photograph of a man…

"Hold on Dr. Hartman, I'll have to call you back," Alaric whispered, clicking his phone shut and walking over to the examining area.

"What did you find?" he asked her. She pulled the last photograph out of the booklet in the gentlest manner he had ever seen.

What he saw shocked him.

In the photograph was a young man laying on a sofa, naked, one arm across his chest in a provocative manner. He had dark, curly hair and looked to be in his early to late twenties. In one hand, he held a sheet that barely concealed his genital area. You could still see a good portion of his pubic hair and stomach area. Alaric was sure the women would have loved this guy. He was a very handsome man.

But what really struck Alaric were the man's eyes. They seemed to smolder in the photograph, they were the lightest part of the photograph and the only portion of it that was colored a light blue color. Alaric found it amazing that color would have lasted these past 80 years. It was obvious the look he was giving the artist was one that was reserved for a very special person. A look that caused women to go weak in the knees. A lover, perhaps.

As Alaric stared at the photograph, on the bottom left was a date—March 25th, 1900. Right next to that was a name—Gilbert.

Alaric struggled to breathe. This portrait was done on the night of the massacre, right that very night. Probably even a few hours before everything happened. Before hundreds of lives were lost on that fateful night.

"Guys, we might actually have something here," he said with a smile to his crew, who had gathered around him to stare at the portrait. Some were even blushing.

…..

In the town of Chospeak, not far from Mystic Falls, lay an old man in his bed reading. Old and withered with age, his large hands pushed the pages of the book he was attempting to read back and forth until he finally gave up. The television was going off in his room with the news just starting. The old man lay the newspaper down on his nightstand.

Rubbing his face, he was about to shut the television off when he stopped at a story that was just airing.

"Breaking News: Discovery at Mystic Falls Mines!"

His grandson, Joseph, stopped by his grandfather's room. "What is it? Did you want something grandpa?" he asked, attempting to clear the plates from dinner.

"Hold on, turn up the TV would you?" the man said in a stunned voice. Joseph looked skeptical but used the remote to turn it up a few notches.

On the screen was a tall, skinny man wearing a jacket. The lady reporter just asked him, "What caused you to want to learn more about the Mystic Falls Massacre? Did something spark your interest as a professor of local history or was it something else?"

The man spoke into the microphone, "I'm Dr. Saltzman, professor of historical events in Virginia. I took this assignment because I've always been fascinated by this tragic event. Not for the hundreds of lives lost, but for the facts and reasons behind the destroying of a town and its civilians. The untold stories may hold the key to figuring out what exactly happened that night. I want to know more."

"And have you found anything of significance that could lead your discovery?" the reporter asked afterwards.

"I have actually. We uncovered a series of portraits from a safe not far from the old town of Mystic Falls. These photographs haven't been seen nor heard of and there is no record of them anywhere. However, all of them are dated back around the time the massacre occurred. This one for example"—he held up part of the photo of the nude man—"was done on the night of the tragedy. No one knows who this man is or if he was even a part of it. But this is only one of the untold stories I hope to explore."

"That's quite a discovery, Dr. Saltzman. You heard it first on channel 5 news folks. And anyone with information to help Dr. Saltzman and his team are asked to call the number at the bottom of the screen-456-555-9801. This is Nancy reporting from the Mystic Falls expedition. Tom, back to you."

The old man was stunned speechless. His breath quickened as he saw the portrait of the man. He hadn't looked like that since…he could barely remember.

"Grandpa, what happened? Are you alright?" Joseph asked his grandfather, concerned about how pale he had gotten.

The old man sputtered. "I…I'm fine Joseph. Could you get me the phone, please? I need to make a phone call."

Alaric was just heading to his tent, his head pounding from all the excitement. He had looked through the other portraits, all of which were different. They depicted different people at different times. There was a mother and daughter, a small boy overlooking a pond, and a few other pencil pictures of nature itself. And all of them had the name Gilbert on them in the bottom right corners. He had no idea who this Gilbert person was, but if they were still alive, he'd love to thank them one of these days!

The only picture that really intrigued him was the one of the nude man. It was the most intimate portrait he had ever seen before in his life. He was for sure it had been drawn from real life. And whoever the Gilbert artist was, this was likely his last work. There was no record of anyone with that last name anywhere in the record books. None of it made any sense…

He had just lain down on his bed when his tent opened. In popped the head of one of the younger boys on his staff.

"Sir, there's someone on the phone for you who says that it's urgent. He needs to speak with you."

"Henry, can't you see that I'm trying to rest up here. We have had a long day and we're nowhere near learning anything new. Who the hell is it?" Alaric complained, rubbing his eyes.

"Forgive me, but trust me sir, you're going to want to speak to this man. He's insistent that he talk to you. He has information on the portrait you showed on the news today."

Alaric's eyes popped open. That definitely got his attention!

"Alright, where's the phone?" Henry handed him a cellphone.

"This is Alaric Saltzman speaking." He said in a professional tone.

"Hello Dr. Saltzman. I was just wondering if you had any new information about the tragedy yet? It's fascinating that no one has found any clues," a voice said over the phone. He sounded really old and ragged, a deep voice.

"Look, I don't know who you are or why I should tell you that information. First of all, who the hell are you and why are you calling at this ungodly hour?" Alaric noticed that it was past two in the morning, which was beyond reason at this point—he just wanted answers.

The old man laughed on the other end of the line. "I think it's not what I can learn from you, it's what you can learn from me. I'm calling about the portrait you found earlier because it's a picture of me. My name is Damon Salvatore."

Alaric's eyes widened in surprise. "That's…that's not possible," he whispered. "All the founding families died that night, including all of the Salvatores."

"Well your facts are wrong sir. I have a story like you've never heard before in your entire life. And I'd like to tell it to you, so let me come over there tomorrow and I'll explain everything."

….

So…good start? Horrible? Let me know.