Please, Please, Don't Leave Me

Chapter 1 - In Pieces

This, ladies and gentlemen, is my first ever fan-fic. So please don't be too harsh and just enjoy.

Story title inspired by P!nk, chapter 1 title inspired from Linkin Park, and chapter 2 title inspired by The Fray.

Set after the whole 'Uh-oh, no Katherine in the tomb' episode.

Damon was broken after realising Katherine wasn't in the tomb. For weeks he wallowed around the house, drowning in his endless self pity as he drank his private stash of alcohol, hoping it could somehow numb the pain. It didn't. Nothing did - but it didn't stop him trying, as Damon carried on in his attempt to find peace at the bottom of a glass. But everything comes to an end, and soon, the drink ran dry, and when it did, Damon relocated his pity party and once again resumed his quest in forgetting. No matter how hard he tried, no amount of alcohol could make him forget that Katherine didn't want him. Never did. She had used him as her little play thing, there to use and abuse. He was for display purposes only, that was, until he became last years model and was no longer worth anything. And Katherine had done exactly that- the moment things got complicated, she ran; leaving Damon to believe she was trapped in a tomb. A tomb he spent a century plotting to open. And for what? Nothing.

Was life really worth living anymore, now that his sole reason to live didn't care?

…

Stefan had watched helplessly as his big brother spiralled out of control. He had never seen him this way before; devoid of all emotion, even lacking the will to taunt Stefan, his favourite pastime. At his wits end, in a last act of desperation, Stefan had asked Elena to come and speak to him. Something told him she could somehow get through to him, the way she hugged him in the woods was evident of that fact. Though it pained him to acknowledge this, Damon and Elena had some sort of connection; an unspoken understanding. Stefan just hoped it was enough to pull Damon out of this dark abyss.

…

The door was ajar, and after lightly knocking on the solid oak door, Elena Gilbert set foot into the Salvatore boarding house. Her mission, should she choose to accept it was to help Damon, the brother of her vampire boyfriend, Stefan. Stefan had left for the day, leaving Elena to somehow make Damon see sense, to make him see he could move on from Katherine's betrayal. Walking past the mass of ornate wall paintings, Elena turned the corner and entered the parlour. In the far end of the dimly lit room, the fireplace stood proud, alight and burning fiercely; directly before it, sat one Damon Salvatore. He was slouched on a large leather couch, a glass of amber liquid resting lightly on his knee as he idly watched the golden strokes of the fire before him, burning bright. Elena knew he knew she was there and decided against stating the obvious. Instead, she simply poured herself a drink and sat beside him, watching the fire dancing before them as she waited for Damon to break the silence.

The silence went on, but it wasn't awkward. It was more of a comfortable, almost relaxing silence. A silence between friends where words need not be spoken; where words in that very moment where unneeded, and to speak for the sake of speaking simply lessened the mood.

After some time however, Elena tore her eyes from the dancing flames and rested them upon Damon. There, she was met by the inquisitive stare of the handsome vampire, looking at her as if trying to solve a riddle. Just how long Damon had been staring at her was unknown, but upon noticing, Elena gave him a shy small, not knowing what else to do as she watched him watch her.

"I don't know if I can keep doing this," Damon said softly, cutting through the silence. The glass he was now slowly spinning in his hands was now empty, just like him.

Elena could tell by the look in his tortured eyes that it took everything he had to keep his facade up; to keep his voice steady, to keep his emotions hidden, fighting so very hard to not break down in front of her. And it took everything Elena had to not break down into a fit of tears too. Elena could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the sheer look of uncertainty he tried to cover. She could see straight through his act, now more than ever and she could feel her own tears building up, though not quite visible to others. She furiously blinked them back, mentally cursing herself as she tried to force back the imminent well of tears. She couldn't break down in front of Damon, he was the one in need of consoling, not her.

But the dam broke and Elena couldn't fight it anymore. The tears began to fall, droplets falling from her lashes and dropping down her cheeks. Quickly whipping her head to the side, Elena stood up, hiding her tears as she used the guise of pouring more liquor to quickly wipe away her tears.

"You're crying," Damon stated, his voice low.

Elena sniffed and shook her head as she refilled his drink with shaky hands.

"I don't like seeing you like this," Elena replied as she handed Damon the glass. She hated being so blunt, but what else was there to say?

"I don't like feeling like this," Damon answered back as he graciously took hold of the crystal glass, his fingers brushing with Elena's for a fraction of a second. "But I'm glad you're here," he added as he took a quick sip, feeling the soothing liquid coat his throat.

"It'll get better," Elena said as she took her own glass and sat close to Damon. She rested a hand on his knee and looked at his reassuringly, "It won't be like this forever," she said, hoping her words can get through to him.

"I spent forever trying to get her back, Elena. My life has no meaning now. I have nothing," Damon answered, his voice cracking under the strain of it all.

"You have me, you have Stefan," Elena reminded him.

"No," Damon said, "You have each other. Me, I have nothing. No one."

"You have me, Damon!" Elena repeated, her voice rising with determination as he grip on her glass tightened with her words.

Damon shook his head sadly, finally revealing his thoughts. "Do you know what I've been thinking? I've been contemplating ending my life."

This time, it was Elena who shook her head. She dropped the now empty glass on the floor and dropped to his feet, looking up at Damon with desperation, her eyes wide in fear. "Don't let her win, Damon! Don't let her ruin your life anymore. Start again," she cried, holding Damon's face within her hands to keep his gaze on her. In his eyes she saw nothing. A man who had nothing to live for. There was no change in his decision.

"Is this what you really want? To die? "Elena asked dejectedly, dropping her hands to her sides in defeat.

Damon shrugged indifferently. "I see nothing in my future. I'm haunted by my past - haunted by her."

"Please," Elena begged, knowing of nothing else she could say or do.

"Tell Stefan I'm sorry, that I forgive him, and that I really do love him."

"What about me?" Elena asked quietly, she could feel the tears beginning to pool in her eyes.

Damon looked up at her and quickly before looking away as he mumbled quietly. "You'd be better off without me."

"No, I need you!"

Damon got up and slipped off his ring, he placed it in Elena's hand before closing her hand around it, entrusting his ring in her care. Elena knew there was no turning back, he had made his decision and she would do anything to stop him from dying. Anything.

"Damon, I love you. Please!" Elena cried, the tears bursting out uncontrollably, and through the blurred stream of tears she watched him.

Damon turned, his eyes still not showing any sign of change. She didn't love him - not really; love simply wasn't reserved for him. Love laughed in his face, love mocked him; love showed him what it felt to have his heart belong to another, only for it to be torn and ripped to shreds. No, love was cruel and dangerous, an evil entity hidden within pink wrapping paper and finished with a bow, feigning innocence and sickly sweet happiness until the moment stuck and their true selves reared their ugly heads. Love was a fairytale people deluded themselves into believing and Damon knew better, he had learnt his lesson the hard way. He would never open his heart up to anyone ever again, he would make sure of it. And the one way of assuring the safety of the remnants of his crushed heart was to let the light take it, to let it turn to dust and scatter through the morning air.

"Come with me outside," Damon said solemnly, his hand outstretched for Elena to hold.

Elena stared at his hand, palm side up, requesting her touch. Wiping away her tears, Elena nodded in defeat. Her head down as she took his hand and led the way to the door. Once there, she turned to him; the once cool, confident and care-free man was no more, and in his place was a shell of a man, a man tormented by the one person he thought he had loved.

In those final moments, it had all become clear, clearer than anything Elena had ever faced and she now knew what she had to do. Not once taking her eyes off him, Elena wrapped her arms around Damon in a sweet embrace. Her last goodbye.

Elena buried her head into his chest, her tears staining his crinkled black shirt as Elena allowed herself to just cry. If Damon wouldn't shed the tears from his sorrow, she would do it for him. And as they stood there, she felt Damon hold her tighter, almost begging her not to let him go. And Elena knew, she wouldn't let go. Not ever.

Breaking the hug, Elena looked into his searching clear blue eyes, full of unspoken gratitude as for the first time, in a very long time, a tear cascaded down Damon's cheek, a tear which Elena slowly wiped away with a brush of her finger. And there, her hand remained; simply and absentmindedly caressing his cheek as the two simply stopped and stared; a million unspoken words, finally being set free in those silent moments.

"I won't let you go," Elena finally whispered through the silence. "Not ever."

And, with those final words, Elena Gilbert kissed him.