Author's Note: Okay, so this is my first shot at Vampire Diaries fanfiction. This takes places after S3E15. I'm not sure where it's going yet, but I think it will likely be dark, also rated M for language and sex. I mean, what's the point of writing Delena if Damon doesn't take his clothes off, right? Reviews appreciated.
"You know, you're not fooling anyone either. You still love her Damon." Stefan observed, not the slightest hint accusation in his voice, maybe for the first time ever.
"I do, and I thought I could win her from you fair and square." Damon admitted out-loud, stung by his own foolishness for a minute, "She didn't want me." he whispered, not quite succeeding at the tone of indifference he was going for as he remembered how it had cut him to realize that his undying love was a "problem" for her "It's for the best" he concluded "I'm better at being the bad guy anyway" he finished, tipping his glass in his brother's direction before heading across the hall to his bedroom.
Damon entered the darkened room, not bothering with lights as he lay down on his bed, letting the sadness and the liquor wash over him in waves. Nobility had never been his strong-suit, he'd done what needed to be done in order to save Elena and he refused to feel guilty about it. Taking another sip of his bourbon and then another, he remembered her words the night of the decade dance when he'd let her think that Bonnie was dead "Let's get one thing straight Damon, Bonnie will not die for me, I will not let that happen".
He remembered the determination in her eyes, the fire with which she'd held his gaze as he'd told her that he would always choose her. That wasn't what Elena had wanted to hear, it still wasn't, at least not from him, but it was the truth none the less. No matter how much of his long-forgotten humanity she may have brought back, Damon would always kill whomever he needed to in order to protect her, let Elena hate him for it if that's what it took, at least she still drew breath.
Damon took another swig from his tumbler, barely feeling the burn as it cascaded down his throat, the pain dull compared to the searing pain in his heart. Let Stefan be her hero, feeding off small woodland creatures and talking about her "feelings" with her, Damon would be the one who kept her alive, her anger was a small price to pay for that prize.
Hours passed and bottles emptied, it seemed that nothing would soothe his savage soul tonight, so Damon left the boarding house and jumped into his car. A hundred miles an hour down the winding country roads, the stars like a blur above him as he navigated with vampire precision. He didn't know where he was going, only that in this moment, he needed to be as far away from Elena Gilbert as he could get.
Driving on auto-pilot his mind was surprised where his body had led him, realizing where he was only a moment before Wickery Bridge came into sight. Damon stopped the car suddenly as his headlights illuminated a figure sitting alone on the side of the bridge, legs dangling over the water far below.
"Jesus Christ, Elena" he snapped, leaping from the car and walking toward her "It's three o-clock in the morning, what are you doing out here by yourself?" he demanded angrily, it seemed he could never escape her even if he wanted to. He may have talked a good game about letting her hate him, but he hadn't planned on facing her expected wrath tonight.
Elena rose to her feet as he approached, turning away from the water slightly to face him. Damon could see the tears that streaked her face glistening in the moonlight as she looked toward him with her doe eyes, imploring him/accusing him? She was uncharacteristically quiet, saying nothing as her gaze pierced through him to his very core.
"How much did you really think I could take?" she whispered, so quietly a human could never have heard her, but Damon heard her, recognized the despair in her voice.
Before he knew what was happening, time seemed to freeze as she took a purposeful step backward, her eyes never leaving his as they burned her last moments into his mind forever, her hand letting go of the support beams as she slipped from the side of the bridge, plummeting down toward the icy depths of the water below.
Damon's legs moved as if they were trapped in quick-sand, his vampire speed failing him as he struggled to run toward Elena, to catch her before she fell. He reached the edge of the bridge in time to see the splash as she landed in the water hundreds of feet beneath. Searing pain burned through his body, hot and sharp as if someone had driven a stake directly into his soul.
"NOOOOOOO!" he screamed, jolting awake as he tumbled from his bed, his alcohol-induce slumber ending abruptly as he crashed to the floor with a loud thump.
"Damon?" Stefan's voice questioned from the threshold a few seconds later, his eyebrows arching in concern.
"It's nothing" Damon replied quickly as he stay where he'd landed momentarily dazed, more from the memory of the look in Elena's eyes than from the fall out of his bed. He hadn't dreamed like that in, well . . . ever. The closest he'd ever come were his wolf-bite fueled hallucinations, and those had mostly been actual memories - regrets, deathbed realizations of the mistakes he'd made along the way and so forth.
Damon shook his head vigorously, trying to knock the last vestiges of the liquor from his foggy brain, he felt physically ill. After many minutes, he rose slowly, and when he looked up Stefan had vanished from his doorway. He walked into the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face, still unable to erase the image of Elena's hopeless face from his mind. Damon stared at himself in the mirror for a long time, his jaw tightening at the accusatory reflection that now stared back at him. If this was what having a conscience felt like, it was no wonder he had done without for so long.
"Dammit!" He cursed silently, stalking over to his wardrobe angrily and grabbing a shirt and jacket, putting them on in a hurry as he descended the staircase and headed toward his car.
Damn Elena Gilbert for making him feel all of this again. Damn her for sending him out into the middle of the night to make sure that she was okay (again). And damn her most of all for making him realize that if she wasn't okay, it might actually be his fault. Damon pushed down on the accelerator as he suddenly realized that Elena could do far worse things than hate him . . . . she could choose to leave him forever.