Hello all! Well, this happens to be my very first story here on fanfiction. This is going to be a Delena fanfic because, well, I love Delena! No hate please, I'm simply translating my love for the pairing into a story. Hope you all enjoy! Depending on how the story is recieved, I'll update it, mmkay? I already have chapter two in the works, so let me know what you all think!

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor ever will own the Vampire Diaries, nor do I own the much beloved characters. This is simply my take on the upcoming season four since we have such a long hiatus.

Chapter One: To Be, Or Not To Be

A swirling fog overwhelmed her every senses. She could not hear, she could not feel and

she could barely see. Her limbs felt like lead tightly bound by chains and then dropped into the sea. This is not what death was supposed to feel like. As far as she could tell, a thousand years had passed. Or had it been mere seconds? Time had no meaning, where ever she was. She did not know much concerning the actuality of death, but she was certain it was meant to be comforting, like an embrace into the end. Where was her mother, her father? Aunt Jenna was nowhere to be found in the mist. Nor were the numerous dead that she was acquainted with. She wasn't sure what she was expecting from death, but this certainly was not it.

She struggled against her bonds, tried to dispel the feeling of cotton stuffed into her ears and mouth. The only sensation she recognized was that of extreme discomfort. When she gave in to death's embrace, she did not feel like this. No, what she felt then was the cool recesses of peace and calm.

Slowly, the thick fog dissipated, to be replaced by cool darkness. And slowly, her limbs seemed to lighten. Though time still had no meaning, the muddled confusion was replaced with a slight regaining of her senses. First, the feeling was regained in her toes, then legs and so forth. A sterile scent crept into her nose, mixed with a pungent murky smell and an enticing odor she could not place. A distant whirring registered as a sound next, as well as the quiet inhale and exhale of breathing. Was she finally moving on? Would she be reunited with her family at last? Longing filled her conscious for the moment.

An aching filled her lungs, as though they cried for the air to move in and out once more. She ignored the desire to breathe. She no longer needed it. She was dead after all.

Sometime later, a throaty, hoarse gasping sound overwhelmed her ears. Her eyes flew open at the sound and her body brought itself upright. The gasping did not relent.

Elena realized the awful gulping sound was coming from her. Wait, it was impossible. She was dead. Wasn't she? Looking around the darkened room, metal tables and sharp objects not meant for any living human were placed neatly inside.

There was an intake of breath and Elena turned her head sharply to the right. Stefan. What? She was in a morgue. With Stefan watching her, bloodshot eyes and a painful expression etched into his brows. The last thing she remembered was giving into the darkness, surrounded by icy cold water. Dread, much like the icy water, weighted into her stomach. She didn't need to ask what happened, but she did anyway.

"What happened to me?" The horror was eminent in her shaking voice.

"Elena…" Stefan began, avoiding her fear filled eyes. Tears began to fill his and he fought to control the emotions in his voice.

"I wasn't fast enough…I—I tried to save you both, but I wasn't fast enough. I am so sorry. Elena—please know that I never wanted this for you, but…" Stefan cut himself off. Desperation filled his eyes when they met hers.

A deep intake of air.

"You're in transition."

A crushing weight fell onto her as the terrible suspicion was confirmed. She could feel her face crumple and felt the tears well in her eyes. This wasn't she wanted. Elena Gilbert wanted to live a full life. She wanted to go to college and meet a handsome young man with Southern charm and she wanted them to get married and move into a little yellow house surrounded by roses and honeysuckles and have messy little kids running around a big tree in her big backyard filled with toys.

That was never going to happen. Not now. Right now, she needed to make Stefan realize that she did not blame him for her death. You should have kept driving forward. An almost inaudible voice whispered. This would not have happened if you didn't turn around.

She needed to put on a brave face and accept what the cards had dealt her.

"Stefan," Her voice cracked as her throat tightened with the tears. "This isn't your fault, okay?" Elena urged him to listen to her. "I wanted you to save Matt first. Do not blame yourself for what happened to me."

Elena grabbed his shoulder and forced him to acknowledge her. All she got was a dip of his head and a stiffening of his shoulders. "Please, Stefan. Believe me on this. Don't burden yourself with the blame. It was my choice, after all." A weak and watery smile made its way onto her features, as though that could comfort him.

Stefan clenched his eyes shut and nodded fiercely. He willed himself to believe her words. He willed himself to feel the forgiving comfort Elena offered him. But in his heart of hearts, he knew that he did not deserve her forgiveness. He lost any right to her the moment he left with Klaus after ensuring Damon's life was no longer endangered. Yet she still freely gave it to her. With her soft brown eyes, wet with tears resulting from the future so wrongly ripped from her. A fresh barrage of sorrow wracked him. He gripped her hand with desperation.

Shouting interrupted the silent musings the two were sharing. An angry, brash voice collided with a softer, yet firm female voice. It was coming from the hall. Elena turned from Stefan to watch the double doors that were going to fly open at any time. Apprehension filled her. Only two people would make such a scene. Her brother, Jeremy, who would likely be a wreck over the fate of his sister. Rightly so. And the other, more likely person? Damon Salvatore. The man she had just given up. The man she had left to die alone. The man she had probably broken. Guilt, stronger than she had ever felt seemed to stab the entirety of her being and it was mixed with another emotion that had no right to exist. Regret.

She knew fully well that Damon would be furious with her. He would shout at her, calling her a martyr and a fool. His steel blue eyes would bore into hers and refuse to break contact and she would raise her chin and challenge him. Elena also knew that Damon would without a doubt rip into his brother for not saving her. Damon was so volatile that violence was imminent. It scared her.

Bang!

The doors flew open to reveal a dark figure who stormed in. His wild eyes flashed in fury and bypassed Elena to meet Stefan's suddenly cool green eyes.

Damon! Her heart cried out. A heavy burden of worry lifted itself from her, evaporating and joy radiated from her chest as she recognized his form. He was not looking at her. He was targeting Stefan. The joy turned to fear as she noticed the postures of the men who stood facing each other, both seemingly unaware of the woman sitting on the metal table between them.

She could feel the hatred emanating off of the elder Salvatore.

"What the hell did you do, brother." Damon growled at Stefan. "I left you with one simple task. Protect Elena. And you go off and screw that up?" The raven haired man strode forward until he was almost standing in front of the cold table.

His voice rose with every word. "She's dead, Stefan! And why? Because every chance she gets, she likes to offer herself as a human sacrifice! Because you have to bend to her every single whim whenever she flutters her eyelashes!" Damon leaned forward to grip the table, which groaned underneath the strength of his fingers.

"You should have gotten her out of there first! Who cares about what she wants? She will always be the damn martyr! And it's our responsibility to make sure she doesn't run off and get herself killed."

"Damon, I know you're upset, but I had to respect Elena's wishes. She would never forgive me if I pulled her out before Matt. Don't you understand? At least she's still here!" Stefan fired back at his brother. White hot anger seeping into his voice.

"Oh I am far past upset, Stefan. I wouldn't have even considered what she was asking." His voice was lethally quiet.

Elena bristled angrily at Damon's free admittance to his brother. Did he not realize she was right in front of him? Obviously he didn't care.

Stefan let out a mocking and derisive laugh. "At least we know I'll always have her respect."

Elena thought that went too far. She knew he was only baiting Damon. He didn't truly mean it, did he?

If it were possible, the elder Salvatore's eyes hardened to flint. "That's the difference between you and me, brother. I will always choose her. No matter the consequences. No matter who dies as a result."

Damon's eyes narrowed in loathing as he continued. "Better to have her hate me then dead."

The two brothers all but flew at each other. Their muscles were poised for action.

Elena had never seen Damon so unhinged. It scared her. It reminded her too much of who he was when he first arrived in Mystic Falls; a malevolent, vicious vampire who killed in cold blood for the fun of it.

They were seconds away from ripping each other's jugulars out. She had to intervene somehow.

"Damon, please" She begged him, stopping herself from reaching out to grip his forearm. "Don't blame Stefan. Blame me. I was the one who made him save Matt first. Please…" Her voice sounded pathetic from the crying and the damage done from drowning.

Damon's ice cold blue eyes met hers for the first time and softened with love for a fraction of a second before freezing over once more. "No, Elena. Saint Steffie here needs to learn a lesson about what happens when he lets you call the shots." His voice was rough with anger and a chill settled on her heart. "Starting with this." He grasped a scalpel and lodged it into Stefan's ribcage.

Stefan cried out and stumbled into the chair behind him. His breathing was labored as he extracted the blade.

"Damon!" Elena unsteadily flew off the table to reach Stefan just a few feet away from her. She turned to glare at the black haired man who was scowling, but somewhat calmer, she vaguely noted.

"Stop it! Both of you!" She helped the injured Salvatore up. "You need to stop fighting. What's done is done and there isn't anything we can do to change it, alright?" She was still scowling at Damon when her head started pounding furiously. She tried to shake it off, but it persisted, along with a dull burn that filled her throat.

"She's right Damon," Stefan remarked from behind her, tossing the blade to the ground. "We can resolve our issues about tonight later. But right now, we need to help Elena." Ever the voice of reason.

A tense silence followed before Damon relented. "Fine." He bit out. Elena nearly sighed in relief, knowing that at least for now, the brothers would not tear each other apart.

Gingerly, she began to wobble to the other side of the table so that she could reach the doors and leave the awful hospital. As she made it around the sharp corner she found herself hitting a wall. Strong, pale arms lifted her as though she weighed nothing and plonked her right back on the freezing metal. Her eyes met his and in them reflected worry, hurt and his utmost devotion to her. Her dead heart twisted and she forced her eyes shut to avoid them.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Damon's eyes flashed at her sternly. "You're not going anywhere until you drink some blood."

"What? I don't even know if I want to make the transition, Damon." Elena met his eyes stubbornly.

"Oh you are going to transition, Elena. I'm not letting you play martyr again. Not tonight." He growled and his eyes widened for effect, forcing her to sit down again when she struggled against his grip. "And don't forget, if you go out there like you want, you won't be able to resist all of the humans out there. Its win-win for Steffie and I on this one."

She craned her neck to look back at Stefan, begging for help. To Damon's delight, his younger brother did not move. Maybe they could be a team after all, even with his enormous screw up tonight,

Stefan sighed and shook his head. "Damon is right on this one Elena. You need to transition. Think about Jeremy. You can't leave him alone."

Damon smirked. "Yeah can't forget about little Cock Blocker Junior." His eyes did that thing that Elena couldn't stand. She scowled and forced her glare into the floor, her blood heated.

"I—I don't know what I want ." Elena snapped irritably.

They were right, of course, she just didn't want to admit it. If she didn't make the transition, Jeremy would lose the only family he had left. She knew that would destroy him. And she couldn't leave him. She couldn't leave any of them. Caroline, Bonnie, Stefan, Damon, Matt…

She gasped. "Matt!" She tore herself out of Damon's grip to face Stefan.

"Did he survive? Is he okay?" Her fear widened eyes implored an answer from the younger Salvatore who was about to answer when his older brother cut him off.

"Busboy is fine, Elena. Psycho Doc is taking care of him." If she was watching, she would have seen his eyes harden at the mention of the reason why Elena was in transition.

Relief washed over her, but it did not quell the fire that was building in her throat and the shattering pain that would soon overwhelm her head if she didn't decide soon.

The teenage girl did not know what she wanted. Were she to choose death, she would be abandoning the people she loved. She would be free from everything though, and she would be with her parents again. That thought alone was tempting enough for her to forget the others. But she couldn't. She could not so lightly abandon Jeremy. She couldn't abandon any of them, for that matter. Her eyes caught sight of Damon, and her stomach clenched. Looking away from him, ashamed, she contemplated the life she would be stuck with for eternity if she picked transition.

She would become a vampire and with that, she would be cursed to drink blood for eternity. She would gain immortality and she would have Stefan forever. She would also live with the guilt she harbored for Damon as well. Could she do that? Could she live happily with Stefan when Damon would always be around to remind her about how she broke his heart? Elena didn't know.

Her eyes closed and it only took an image of Jeremy to make her decision.

Elena looked directly into Damon's eyes. "Get me a blood bag."

End chapter One.

Thanks for reading! Please review! I'd love feedback!