A/N: This is a short one-shot, one of many that I came up with during one night. Constructive-criticism is welcome as well as plain ol' reviews! I believe that I can call this a dark fic, so be aware of this.

(-)

The summer setting was vibrant; heaps of sunshine, children running about, the sprinklers on full-force. The outer-surface of the community was positive. That is, until you dig an inch deeper to find that one nineteen-year-old girl was the frown of the close-knit society.

Elena Gilbert was sat on her bed, knees pressed against her chest, chin rested upon her kneecaps. Suffering from a case of depression wasn't a joy, especially when she spent two years with the person who she believed to be her soul mate. The name was banned from use in the home, but every once in a while, Jeremy would slip-up and let the name flow out, resulting in Elena to rush up to her room. Today was one of those days.

The pain seemed worse than it did the other times the name would jab at her heart. She knew deep down that she had to stop him from having such a vise grip on her life. Ever since Stefan had abruptly left town with the newly-arrived Katherine, her heart seemed to be tearing with each passing day. Her mind kept telling herself that she couldn't, wouldn't live without him.

The pounding on her door snapped her out of the trance, the voice invading her thoughts, "Elena, you okay?"
She sighed, "I'm fine."

Not believing a word out of her mouth, he went to grab the handle, "I'm coming in." It was an invasion of her privacy, but he needed to have assurance.

Her eyes darted towards the razor at the foot of her bed, beginning to panic, "No! Stay out!" The sudden incline of her voice made him release the handle before hesitantly walking back downstairs to see Alaric off.

"You sure you don't want to come with me? I have an extra bag packed just in case you change your mind." Alaric asked, slinging the backpack over his shoulder.

Jeremy leaned against the doorframe to the living room, weighing his options. Glancing up the staircase, he knew what she needed, "On second thought, I'll go with you."

Alaric brightened up, tossing the extra backpack towards Jeremy before walking to the foot of the staircase to yell up, "Jeremy and I are heading out! We'll be back in a few days!" Elena grumbled a response even if they couldn't hear her as she listened to the door shut and lock.

All the while, she remained in the same position, eyes locked to the razor. Two options, only two. Two paths set before her very eyes and it was all up to her. A few moments passed before she slowly slid off of the mattress, making her way towards the foot of the bed. The tip of her finger ran across the smooth metal. This was her savior.

Staring down to the metal now in the palm of her hand, the thoughts tumbled around her head. Who would truly miss her? Who would truly mourn? She could think of a long list, which, for a moment, almost had her put the razor down. That was until she remembered one name and how this would deeply affect him. Vengeance was all that rushed through her veins, her eyes turning cold as she walked into the bathroom and locked the door.

(-)

"Hey, Damon." Sheriff Forbes walked up to sit on the stool next to Damon, adjusting so the belt on her uniform didn't dig into her side.

Damon glanced over, raising his glass of bourbon slightly before downing it and setting the glass on the counter, "What's up, Liz?"

She leaned to the side a bit, trying not to cause any suspicious glances to be directed towards them when she whispered, "I'm having trouble pinning an animal attack to the May Calderon case. You really screwed up with that one."

Damon groaned in response before leaning his elbow on the counter to watch the news, the reporter once again talking about May Calderon and how she was supposed to be driving to her bachelorette party on the night of her death. Sighing inwardly, he directed his gaze back to Liz, "I'm heading out. Catch you later, Liz."

She nodded, watching him exit the Grill.

His leather jacket was draped across his shoulder as his combat boots thudded against the pavement of the driveway. The Gilbert residence hadn't changed since he last laid his eyes upon it, which would have been nearly a month ago. He had locked himself inside of the boarding house in fear of completely snapping. Since Stefan had skipped town with Katherine, he had managed to take the life of a teenaged girl, one whose face was plastered all over the news, forcing him into hiding since there was a witness to the crime. Blood bags were working some kind of magic on him, for his nerves seemed to be calmed down, as did his attitude. Not wanting to go home to his torn-up room, he decided a visit to his old friend would do him well.

As Damon came upon the top of the driveway, he glanced to the right to find Alaric's car missing. Tilting his side momentarily, he continued up the small walkway to the front door. Trying the doorknob, he found it surprisingly locked. He glanced around the perimeter of the house to see if there were any unwelcomed intruders that the residents inside the home were locking out, but found no one. Trying the doorknob again, he resorted to knocking on the door, eventually growing weary of this.

He sped to the tree that led to Elena's bedroom window and climbed up, finding her window thankfully unlocked. With little struggle he pushed the window open and quietly climbed inside, expecting to see a sleeping figure on the bed. His feet traveled to the edge of the bed, peeking over to see if she was hiding under the mountain of covers. To his surprise, yet again, he didn't find her there.

The heat rose inside of Damon, resulting in him having to sit on the edge of the bed, closing his eyes to concentrate. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, his meditation was interrupted by the weak beating of a heart. Just when he had thought that there was no one present in the home, everything changes. Rising to his feet, he followed the weak beating of the heart until he was led to the conjoined bathroom.

The weakness of the heartbeat immediately sprang up red flags in Damon's head. Reaching out for the doorknob, he twisted it until he couldn't anymore. It was locked. Sucking in a sharp breath, he strained his ears to listen carefully, until a strong scent of blood knocked him back. Alarmed, he stepped back a few and barreled forward, slamming the door into the inner bathroom wall.

It took him awhile to comprehend the sight before him. There was so much blood. Forcing himself to look away for a moment, his eyes turned dark. This was the downfall to bagged blood; it didn't allow you to build up your control. Once he had calmed himself, he stepped back until he was in the doorway, staring down at the barely-conscious Elena. She was staring up at him through hooded eyes, the razor still clutched in her hand, cutting deeper into her palm with each second. Her bottom lip quivered when she saw his gaze drop to her wrists which were slashed and bleeding profusely.

He could feel his knees about to buckle, overwhelming feelings falling on top of him. His mind blanked as he asked the only question that popped into his mind.

"Why?"

Elena weakly snapped her head up, eyes brimming with tears, "I can't live without him."

He groaned in annoyance, for he had tried the same bullshit excuse with Alaric a few weeks ago, exclaiming how he couldn't live without Katherine. Alaric had looked him straight in the eyes and said, "If you don't get your head out of your ass and realize that she never loved you, and you never loved her, then you might as well go end it now." Damon had taken the advice to heart, spending two weeks inside the boarding house, contemplating what to do next. It never occurred to him that there was someone else out there struggling to grip the idea as well.

Looking down at the razor, he growled, "Think about what you just said."

She gave him a quizzical look, only getting a small glare in return before she thought for a moment, then slowly raised the razor to her right wrist.

Damon growled once again, "Elena!" Her eyes snapped up to his face, the razor still pressed to her bleeding wrist, "Did you honestly love him, or was he a temporary fill-in?"

Elena bit her bottom lip, "I don't know!"

"Yes you do fucking know!" He stepped a bit closer, eyes narrowed.

"No, I don't!" Her bottom lip quivered, pressing the razor down harder with each step he took.

Seeing her movements, he stopped dead in his tracks, "Tell me the truth."

Elena could feel the wall break as she let out small sobs, "I did love him," Damon took a step back, thinking something the complete opposite of what she was actually saying, "B-but it was more like a friendship kind of love."

Damon's gaze softened, "Then put the razor down, Elena."

Complying, she dropped the razor to the bloody floor before whimpering, "It hurts."

Falling to knees in front of her, he bit his wrist before bringing it to her lips where she thankfully drank the curing liquid. His gaze dropped to her deep cuts which were slowly healing. Sighing in relief, he leaned his forehead against hers.

She abruptly pulled back, "You were never there," She inhaled sharply, "when he left. I was all alone, not even Alaric or Jeremy knew the pain I was going through. Only you did, and you weren't there." She scooted back until she was seven feet away from him.

His face dropped, mouth hanging open, "I was struggling to grip onto reality. I didn't want to take you down with me." Elena contemplated this, her eyes locked onto a spot on the floor until she looked into eyes and quickly wrapped her arms around him.

"I missed you." She whispered.

His lips tugged into a smile, "I missed you, too."