Title: Blood Relatives 2/12
Author: EdieZee
Rating: PG-13 ish
Based on: TV series
Relationships: Damon/Elena
Disclaimers: I do not own anything. Sadly...
Summary: What if Stefan wasn't the only "family" that Damon had?

Note: Damon will seem a little out of character for much of this story. It is AU and is set partly in the past, so I figure maybe back then Damon hadn't yet become quite as bitter as he was when we first met him. I've always thought that there was a little bit of sentimentality and longing for a human connection simmering below the surface, so hopefully you'll agree that it's not THAT out of character… (It is his "existential crisis," after all.)

London 1966

The latest Rolling Stones song played throughout the darkened bar as Damon moved sinuously among the groups of young people. He took a sip of his drink, half-heartedly listening to the conversations going on around him.

Damon had only been in London for a couple weeks, but he had already wholly embraced the Swinging England lifestyle as if he had been born for it instead of for the prim and proper mannerisms of his own youth. The music, the dancing…the mini-skirts. After two World Wars and a Depression – not to mention the troubles he had faced with Stefan – it was nice to finally be able to enjoy life for a little while.

Knocking back the rest of his drink, he placed the empty glass on a passing waitress' tray. Moving out to the dance floor, he let the music wash over him. He closed his eyes and let his body take over. He pushed thoughts of Stefan out of his mind and lost himself in the energy of the room. Bodies moved next to him, and he could practically taste the young blood that was pulsing all around him.

It was…groovy.

The song ended, and Damon opened his eyes again. One of the bodies he had danced next to morphed into a young woman. Strands of her straight brunette hair were no longer contained by her blue headband, thanks to the vigor with which she had danced. She was breathing hard, and her eyes were sparkling. Damon was mesmerized, which was odd since, objectively, she wasn't a great beauty. Sure, she was pretty enough…but she was no Katherine.

Damon clenched his teeth, pushing thoughts of Katherine out of his head. He still had a long time to wait, and it's not like this girl would be the first one he had passed the time with while waiting.

He flashed the girl his most charming grin, hiding the smirk that wanted to blossom in response to the blush she favored him with. Despite the mini-skirt, it was clear that she was not the typical brazen and liberated girl that this fascinating new culture had given birth to.

"Damon," he shouted over the din of the music and the crowd, sticking a hand out to shake hers.

She offered him a small smile and stuck her own hand out. "Sophie."

"Would you like to dance some more?"

She smiled and nodded. Damon grinned again, starting to move his body in time to the rhythm. This time, he did not close his eyes. Instead, he watched Sophie, enthralled by the almost innocent enthusiasm she had for the music and the movement. She wasn't a great dancer; in fact, she seemed entirely out of place. However, she danced with zeal, giving off the impression that she had to fit a lifetime's worth of enjoyment into this one evening.

It would almost be a shame to kill her. Maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he'd drink just enough.

After they danced a few more songs together, they grabbed drinks and sat down to talk. He was utterly surprised to find that he had actually enjoyed the conversation. She was smart and a little sarcastic, and he didn't even have to pretend being interested in her.

"Why do I get the feeling you don't come here very often?" Damon asked.

Sophie chuckled. "Because I don't. This isn't who I really am most of the time. I was able to get a free night, so I thought I'd pretend for a little while."

Damon half-smiled, thinking about the fact that his whole existence was basically pretense.

"So, who are you most of the time?"

"I work in a book store, actually – Shakespeare and Company."

Damon leaned back, pointedly taking in her outfit from head to toe. "You don't look like a book worm to me."

Sophie smiled. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"What's your favorite book?"

"Gone with the Wind."

"Never read it. I like the film though."

"I'll have to sell you a copy of it sometime," she joked.

They continued talking about literature, about movies, about music. Damon felt slightly odd that he was having this conversation. There was no sarcasm or double meanings. It seemed so…normal. He may be pretending that he was human, but he didn't have to pretend about anything else.

Before he knew it, it was time for the bar to close. It reminded him that she was his victim, that he was supposed to be luring her off to drink from her. That thought filled him with a bit of regret that he didn't want to examine too closely. He was a vampire; he wasn't supposed to feel regret. Sage had taught him that...

"Well, Sophie, can I walk you home? It's late and dark out there, after all," Damon smirked, amused about the fact that he was the danger he was warning her about.

They stepped out into the cool evening. Damon took in a long breath, enjoying the crisp, clear air after being in an enclosed place with sweating people. Sometimes, being a vampire with super sensitive senses had its disadvantages…

Damon couldn't help but wonder if this is what his life would have been like if he had never met Katherine. Would he have met some nice, shy girl like Sophie and wooed her in an innocent way? Would she have provided him an escape from the disappointment of his father and the rivalry with his brother? Would he have been able to have a family, grow old, die in his bed having never known the taste of blood or the guilt of murder?

Was that even a life that he would have wanted? He would have never known the passionate love he felt – feels. Feels. – for Katherine. He wouldn't have seen the amazing inventions and advancements humanity had made. He wouldn't have stayed young and healthy forever.

On the other hand, he wouldn't have had to deal with the fact that Stefan had become a ravenous monster – or with the fact that Katherine had loved Stefan enough to turn him too…

Despite his anger at Stefan for forcing him to turn, Damon had begun to accept who he was. He wouldn't change that for anything. But, every once in a while – like now, with Sophie – he couldn't help but miss the life he never had the chance to have.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he missed out on several opportunities to drink from Sophie. They passed dark, empty alleys and quiet storefronts, and Damon didn't take advantage of any of them. Instead they made it all the way to a residential area, and Sophie turned to climb up a short flight of steps. She dug through her purse and pulled out a set of keys.

Damon suppressed a smile, glad that Sophie had her back to him. He found it amusing that she was so clearly nervous, and he didn't want that amusement to make her feel even more awkward. Her hand was shaking as she unlocked the door to her building, and it was quite obvious that inviting strangers back to her place was not something she usually did. It was sort of refreshing actually, after the women he had met while partying since arriving in London.

Sophie finally got the door open, and they climbed the stairs to a second door. She opened that door too. Turning around to face him, she couldn't even meet his eyes.

"Please come-"

As soon as the invitation took effect, Damon stepped forward and pulled her into a kiss. He walked her into the darkened flat and slammed the door shut behind them. He didn't want to give her the chance to talk herself out of this, and he really didn't want to have to compel her either. A small part of him couldn't help but think that, if someone sweet and shy and good like Sophie chose to be with him all on her own, then maybe…maybe there was something still good about him too.

Not that he would ever admit to wanting that.

She let out a soft moan, and he could hear her heartbeat start to pick up. As the kiss deepened, Damon actually felt conflicted. He wanted to be with her, but he didn't want to hurt her. He didn't want to drink from her.

He…liked her.

But how could he feel that way? He loved Katherine; he shouldn't be liking anyone. Having sex, drinking blood, all the things that Sage had taught him about enjoying the vampire lifestyle…those were all OK as long as they didn't mean anything…

If he chose to not drink Sophie's blood, then this would mean something.

He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't betray Katherine like that. Not for a girl he had just met that night…

Damon forced his teeth to extend, fighting to ignore the nausea in his stomach. He took a deep breath, and lowered his mouth down to her neck.

And someone knocked on the door.

Springing back from Sophie, Damon turned away from her, forcing his face to return to normal. A surge of relief went through him. He would be eternally grateful for whoever was at the door for stopping him. It was time to get out of here before things got even more confusing.

Sophie opened the door and a small blur rocketed toward her, wrapping its arms tightly around her waist. "Mommy!"

Damon raised his eyebrow in shock at this new development. An older woman stood in the doorway, looking back and forth between Damon and Sophie; a knowing, amused smile rose to her lips.

"I am so sorry, Sophie," she said, glancing over at Damon again. "She had a nightmare, and I told her we could see if you were home. I know I offered to keep her the whole night, but…"

"Oh, that's okay," Sophie crooned softly, running a hand through the young girl's hair. "Are you alright, baby?"

The girl nodded against her mother's stomach but didn't say anything. Damon couldn't take his eyes off of her, the horrible thought going through his head that he could have left this little girl without a mother tonight.

How many children had he left motherless in his life?

Sophie looked over at him, and he could tell that she was feeling very uncomfortable. "Uh, Damon, this is my daughter. Gretchen."

Note: I have never been to London, certainly not in the 1960s. If I've made any mistakes, let me know and I'll fix them.