Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Diaries. If I did, well, let's just say we would be seeing a whole lot of shirtless-Damon scenes. I also do not own the song Cut by Plump (a fabulously wonderful song) which not only provided inspiration for this story, but also leant its lyrics to the title (and chapter titles).
...
Something was wrong.
Maybe it was the fact that Jeremy hadn't answered her call. Or maybe it was the unexpected noise in the kitchen. Possibly even the eerie sense that was surrounding the house. Whatever it was that had tipped her off, Elena knew something was wrong. It was one of those sixth-sense feelings, creeping up her arms and sending shivers down her spine.
"Hello?" Her voice echoed through the hallway as she took a step towards the kitchen. "Aunt Jenna, is that you?" There wasn't an answer and Elena continued cautiously towards the kitchen, pulling out her cell phone in the process. Her finger hovered over the one on her phone as held it against her side, entering the kitchen.
"Hello, Elena." She jumped, turning, and her finger automatically pressed down on the one, speed-dialing Stefan.
She gasped.
Elena was staring at herself.
No, that was impossible. How could she be staring at herself? It was like—like a twin or something. And then it suddenly hit her.
"Katherine," she breathed. The phone clattered to the floor, still dialing Stefan, as she stared at the vampire in front of her.
Before either of them could say a thing, a muffled voice came from the other end of the line. "Hey, it's Stefan's phone. Leave a message." A resonating beep sounded through the room and Elena practically choked on air.
"Stefan, it's Ele—"
Click.
Elena gasped once more as Katherine was suddenly right beside her, clicking the fallen phone shut. "Now, Elena, don't you think it would be better if Stefan didn't hear our little … exchange?"
And that was when she saw the blood.
Any retort she'd been about to make flew out the window as she stared at the bright, red blood on the counter. "What happened?" she choked out, grasping the edge of the stool to steady herself, "Who—who did you kill?"
Her breath was shallow as the possibilities ran through her mind. Jeremy? Was that why he hadn't answered her call? Aunt Jenna—naive, sweet, innocent Aunt Jenna?No. She couldn't have, it didn't—
"John," Katherine stated curtly, examining her cuticles, "I already buried him out back—though I use the term bury lightly. It was more of a toss with a few shovels of dirt piled on top. But, don't worry, Elena—I'm sure he'll be decayed and hardly noticeable within the next few weeks."
And then, not knowing what else to do, Elena screamed.
...
Damon couldn't move.
Well, no—he could. But he didn't want to; not yet, anyways. His mind was still reeling, stuck on the kiss. So, instead, he'd settled himself into Elena's neighbors' hammock—like they would notice, anyway—while he waited for the weird feeling in his stomach to go away.
It wasn't because he felt guilty, at least he'd been able to deduce that much already. No, he was Damon Salvatore—he didn't feel guilty for kissing other people's girlfriends, not even his brother's girlfriend.
But he felt wrong. Or, the kiss had felt wrong, rather—familiar, almost, with and edge to it that he couldn't quite place; something had been off about it. And it was making him feel all wrong, a feeling he particularly disliked.
Shifting into a more comfortable position, he let his eyes wander about the sky, tracing patterns in the stars. It hadn't felt how he'd expected it to. By all means, it had been a good kiss, but still—something hadn't been right about it. And he couldn't figure out what.
Damon sighed.
Why was he obsessing over this? She'd kissed him back, after all, hadn't she? Damn it. Damon hated feeling this wrong-ness, accompnied by confusion. He didn't want to wonder about things; he wanted to know things. He liked being in the know. Yet, right now, he was so painfully out of the know.
And it sucked.
Muttering curse words, he finally forced himself to sit up. It would do no good to sit here all night and do nothing but ponder the kiss while trying to figure out what it was that he was missing—no good at all. He could at least ponder in his bed, comfortable at home, he figured. Standing up and stretching, Damon allowed himself one more glance over the fence at Elena's house. He spotted her bedroom window, second one on the right. The light was off, but he could still make out her bed, her desk, the dresser, mirror—
Damon tensed.
Someone was screaming.
A scream, a voice, that he would recognize anywhere in a heartbeat
Elena.
It took him less than a second to hop over the fence and reach Elena's back door. He opened it in a flash, sprinting towards the source of the continued screams at an inhuman speed. Reaching the kitchen, Damon stopped short, his eyes falling into a look of surprise before tensing at the sight in front of him. Katherine. If she had came a month or so earlier, he imagined he would've showered her with kisses, made love to her all day and night.
Now, he wanted to tear the bitch limb from limb. And not just because she had Elena in a chokehold, though that was certainly a big part of it.
"Let her go," he hissed, taking a slow step forward.
Katherine laughed, a tinkling soprano sound. "Now, Damon, let's play nice." She laughed again, tightening her grip on Elena, and Damon felt anger course through his body. "I have to say, Damon dear, this is such a surprise. I wasn't expecting your company for my little … chat … with Elena, but, rest assured, you won't hinder my plans much at all. If anything, it makes the whole ordeal even more exciting."
Elena whimpered under Katherine's tight grip and both sets of vampire eyes turned towards her. "Oh, Elena dear, am I holding on too tight? Is my grip uncomfortable?"
Tears formed in Elena's eyes, but she didn't say anything.
"Too bad." Katherine sighed as if she were bored, tightening her grip even more. Elena let out a strangled-sounding cough as if she were choking and, in a flash, Damon was right in front of Katherine, leaning forward to rip her hands off Elena's neck.
Lazily, Katherine reached up one hand in vampire-speed, stopping him quickly.
"Don't forget, Damon, I have about three-hundred years on you." She laughed again.
"Please," Elena whimpered, and Damon felt a little piece of his heart break. Without thinking, he lunged forward once more, a futile attempt to pull Elena from Katherine's grasp.
"Now, now, Damon," Katherine told him, smiling smugly, "If you want no harm to come to pretty little Elena here, I would suggest you take a few steps back." Damon easily obliged. "Good. Now, I have a little proposition for you, Elena. You see, you have something that I want."
Elena whimpered again and Damon clenched and unclenched his hands into fists by his sides.
"No need to get impatient." Katherine laughed. "You're worse than your brother." Raising an eyebrow, she went on, "After all, you're just as protective of her as him—maybe even more—and the two of you haven't even kissed yet."
"No," Damon hissed, as the last pieces of the puzzle clicked in his mind, "It wasn't—it couldn't have been you."
Katherine grinned. "Oh Damon, but it was me."
And then, before Katherine could mention anything more about the proposition, Damon had once more sprinted forwards, lunging for her. How dare she. And, worse, he couldn't believed he'd fallen for it, couldn't believe he'd bought her act as Elena. Of course, he'd know something had been off about the kiss, but still. All along, he'd thought he'd kissed Elena, but really, it had been Katherine. And maybe that was what hurt the most.
Logic clouded by anger, sheer rage even, Damon grabbed Katherine, pushing her and, consequently, Elena, up against the counter. However, it only took Katherine a mere moment to hurl him across the room in response. His head hit the back of the table as he clattered against the floor, every bone aching from the force of the push.
"Now, Damon." Katherine's smile was smug. "Didn't I ask you to play nicely? And now poor Elena has to pay." And, without waiting for a retort, Katherine plunged her teeth into Elena's neck.
Horror washed across Damon's face at the sound of Elena's scream, the sight of the blood running down her neck as Katherine sucked her blood. The horror built in his throat as he watched Elena begin crumpling to the floor and, without being sure what it was that he was doing, he lunged forwards once more.
By a miracle, a stroke of luck, or so he guessed, he caught Katherine off guard. Enough off guard that he was able to yank Katherine off of Elena. Maybe Katherine had been too immersed in sucking the blood, or maybe his adrenaline had just taken over, giving him more strength than usual. Whatever it was, Damon had been able to grab Elena's weak form in his arms, pulling her out of Katherine's reach.
Katherine looked up at them, Elena's blood smeared over her lips, a bright pool of red that contrasted with her pale face. A wicked smile spread across her features. "I don't think I'll kill her just yet. She still has something I want, after all. Enjoy your time together—rest assured, Damon, it will be limited."
And just like that, in a blur of motion, a gust of wind—Katherine was gone.
Damon stared after her for only a few moments before turning to the girl in his arms. "Elena," he whispered, her name sliding across his lips effortlessly.
"Damon," she whispered in response, fear evident in her eyes. Without saying anything else, he wrapped his arms around her; she buried her face in his chest, muffled sobs breaking out. Her neck was still bleeding, the blood seeping onto his shirt. He would have to fix that.
He stroked her hair a few times. "Elena," he said again, quieter, "I'm going to take you back to boarding house, alright? We're going to fix your neck up before you lose too much blood, okay?"
Instead of nodding in response, like he thought she'd do, she pulled away suddenly. "Aunt Jenna," she choked out the name, "Jeremy."
Heart pounding in her chest, she broke away from Damon's embrace completely, feet running towards the stairs. Surely, wouldn't they have came down if they'd heard the noise? Her head was dizzy—from loss of blood, she reasoned—but she didn't stop, running up the stairs through her haze.
"Aunt Jenna?" The word cracked on her lips as she peered into her Aunt's room, a scream emitting from her lips as she saw her Jenna's bloodied form lying across her bed. "No! No, no!" She pushed past Damon, who'd entered the room behind her, racing down the hall towards Jeremy's room.
"Jeremy, no!" The anguished cry left her lips as she leaned over her brother's bloody body, grabbing his shirt, "Jer, wake up! Please, please, wake up! No, no!" She turned as she felt warm hands on her back, grabbing a hold of Damon's shirt. "He's dead! He's dead! She killed him!" Her head fell against his chest and she clutched at him desperately as he wrapped his arms around her. "Why, Damon, why?"
Damon stared over her shoulder wordlessly, stroking her hair, lingering on the bite mark, still bleeding, on her neck. His eyes wandered over Jeremy's form, until they suddenly landed on the bottle by his bed—a bottle with remnants of blood it in.
"Elena," he whispered, suddenly recalling his conversation earlier that evening with Jeremy, "It's not too late."
She pulled back, her watery eyes meeting his own. "How can you say that? He's dead!"
"I know," Damon answered, "But I—he had Anna's blood in his system when he died."
"How?"
Damon pointed wordlessly towards the bottle and Elena gasped as she realized, pieces of the puzzle clicking. "Please, Damon, change him. It's the only way—please." Her vision was getting fuzzy now, blurring around the edges, the wound in her neck still bleeding at an alarming rate. Her knees started to give out and Damon grabbed her, holding her upright. "Jeremy," Elena whispered, the word forming across her chapped lips, "Save Jeremy."
"Can you hang on to my back?" Damon asked. Elena nodded weakly, so he slung her over his back, her arms latching loosely around his shoulders. Gripping one arm around her leg, he picked up Jeremy in the other. "Hold tight," he instructed. Elena tightened her grip, her vision growing blurrier, and Damon took off at an inhuman speed.
Seconds later, or so it seemed to Elena, they'd reached the old Salvatore boarding house. Damon barged through the front door, setting Jeremy down on the nearest couch. Only seconds after he'd set Jeremy down, Stefan came running down the stairs.
"Damon, what happened?" Stefan stalked towards Damon, arms reaching out for his girlfriend.
Damon pulled Elena away from Stefan's grasp. "I'll explain later. I've got to get stop this bite on her neck from bleeding; she's losing too much blood. Go lie Jeremy down in a room."
"Damon, tell me—"
"If you want Elena to live, then do it." Without waiting for a response, Damon slung Elena around, resting her comfortably in his arms. "Hold on," he whispered, "It's going to be alright."
...
Stefan smelled blood.
Elena's blood, or so he assumed. He hesitated outside the living room doorway, feeling a fire burning in his throat. It smelled so, so—mouth-watering. He felt the skin under his eyes grow hard, blue veins most likely evident on the pale surface. He felt his fangs grow in, sharp points that could easily puncture nearly anything. Trying to gain control of himself, Stefan hesitantly walked into the living room. The smell of blood grew stronger and it took everything in himself to keep his vampire instincts down.
"Damon, what happened?" His voice sounded strained even to his own hears, heavy with lust for Elena's blood, which he could see seeping onto the pure, white cushions of the couch.
Damon pressed the cloth he was holding more firmly against Elena's neck and cursed.
"Damon, you need to tell me why—"
"Katherine's back in town." Damon said the word Katherine as if it were a dirty one, staining his lips, his very being, just by saying the name. Stefan felt a mix of emotions enter his stomach—anger, curiosity, but a bit of love in there. Deep down, his heart jumped, if only just a little, even though he knew it shouldn't—he had Elena now.
"This isn't working!" Damon exclaimed suddenly, tossing the cloth to the floor. His eyes looked around the room wildly before settling on his wrist.
"Damon—no, Damon. You can't feed her vampire blood!" Stefan moved closer to Elena's unconscious form, his throat burning more with every step he took.
"It's the only way, Stefan. It won't turn her into a vampire, not so long as we keep her safe for the next twenty-four hours or so—we just have to give her enough so she heals. Now move." And, for once, Stefan listened to his brother, moving out of the way. All he could focus on was the intense burning in his throat. He spared a glance at Elena's neck, feeling his eyes hardening again. Damon seemed oblivious to Stefan's internal dilemma as he bit into his wrist before settling it over Elena's mouth.
"Drink, please," he urged, squeezing a few drops into her mouth and down her throat, "Come on, Elena." Slowly, Elena's eyes began to blink open and, without really realizing what she was doing, she sucked, bit by bit, the blood falling from Damon's wrist.
Stefan's head wouldn't stop spinning—his mind wasn't working right, wasn't thinking straight. How was Damon so calm, able to keep himself in check? It was taking all of Stefan's willpower not to run over and bite the blood seeping from Elena's neck.
"I'm sorry." He whispered the words quietly, but both Damon and Elena heard, their eyes shifting towards his agonized form. "I have—I can't—"
"Go," Damon instructed, taking in his brother's hardened eyes and fangs.
Without a glance back, Stefan jumped through the open window, running away and disappearing into the dark night.
...
A/N: So, feedback, you guys? It's mucho-appreciated, and takes less than a minute. I don't care if all you want to write is "this sucks" (though, I'd certainly prefer "this is the best story I've ever read in my whole entire existence" te-he-he), but if you could click that cute little purple review button and write a few words, I would like it very, very much. One thing I did want to say is, I know Damon was a bit OC in this first chapter, but don't worry, he'll be back to his usual witty remarks and sexual innuendos soon, te-he-he. It's just that, you know, Damon can be a caring, serious person when the situation calls for it - like when he threatened Isobel on Elena's behalf *swoons* or when he saved Elena when she had her car crash *swoons again* So it's not totally OC, but there will be lots of witty Damon in this story, because I loooooove writing that stuff! Okay, now you can go review!