Chapter 2

Very little had been said on the drive from the hospital to the Salvatore mansion. All three were frozen in thought, unable to speak. The moments ticked by, drawing them ever closer to the inevitable.

Walking through the Salvaltore's drawing room, Elena made her way toward the large open fire, the centre piece of the room she had spent so many hours in as a human. Never again would she know the gentle ease of her humanity. It was over and nothing would be the same again. She couldn't remember the last time she 'd been in this room. She wondered aimlessly to herself, if she had known would she have paid more attention.

Every one of her senses were so alive it was overwhelming, debiliatating. The heat of the fire, the sound of the flames and the extraordinary brightness of it all, it was simply too much.

Elena sank to the floor, no longer strong enough to stand. The sheer weight of it was difficult to bare.

Both Salvatores were instantly at her side, lifting her gently to the oversized couch and pushing a glass of whiskey into her hands.

"Drink it, it will make you feel better," Damon said.

Elena did as he suggested, the amber liquid scorching her throat as it burned its way down. Damon was right though: it did help calm the jittery feeling that had been steadily growing inside her.

Elena felt restless, barely able to sit still. She no longer felt comfortable in her own skin. It felt as if insects were crawling through her veins.

"Do you feel able to talk?" Stefan asked gently.

"How long?" She began. "How long do I have?" Both Salvatores knew she referring to her possible transition.

A rough sigh escaped Damon's lips. He couldn't think of a conversation he'd like to have less. Damnit, he thought to himself, why couldn't she just want to be a vampire? Why couldn't it be easy? Why did they have to have an angsty, drawn out discussion?

"About 24 hours," Stefan answered. "It's been about 2 since…. Since you… um… died." Stefan's voice nearly broke. "So you've still got a while to decide."

"Okay then.. well, I'm gonna need a bigger drink," Damon quipped, walking towards the crystal decanters. As always he masked his anxiety and fear with humour.

"Whatever you decide, Elena, it is your choice and I will respect that. I've told you before but I think it bares repeating now, that if it were solely down to me I'd want to love and be with you forever but I know how you felt about being a vampire so I'll leave it to you."

"Stefan," Damon began, "can I ask you something? Are you stupid or just deluded?" He turned towards Elena, "you aren't seriously considering this are you? You can't possibly want to die?" Damon's voice was rising in anger but his eyes were full of pain and not the fury that his words suggested.

Elena looked gently at Damon but she didn't speak. Their eyes locked, the air was charged. Something flickered across Elena's face, a recognition. Something long ago, far away and very hard to place. She shook her head, the thoughts not quite able to register.

Elena broke first and turned away, the heat rising on her face. He'd always had that power over her and dying hadn't seemed to change it.

"I need some time, Damon, I need to think. Where's Jeremy? I want to see him." She turned away and walked upstairs towards the guest bedroom.

Stefan and Damon stood quietly, watching her leave. Finally they turned to each other, barely able to look each other in the eye.

"I have to tell you something, Damon," Stefan sighed, 'something that might help you understand what's happening to Elena".

"I need to tell you this Damon. I don't expect you to forgive me. I don't expect you to understand but I have to tell you what happened." Stefan explained the events surround Elena's death. His attempts to save her and her insistence on his rescuing Matt first.

"Elena would never have forgiven herself if she had lived while Matt died. It would have been worse than death for her."

Damon hadn't moved the entire time Stefan was speaking. His body was rigid, like a perfectly coiled spring. Stefan could feel the waves of emotion rolling over Damon but he remained still. His eyes were fixed on Stefan. His face was calm. Much too calm. Stefan felt small pinpricks of fear and instinctively he reached to rub the back of his neck.

"Say something Damon,"

Damon carefully put his glass on the table and walked slowly towards Stefan, a smile still playing on his lips.

His fist crashed suddenly into Stefan's face, an eruption of power, unleashing a terrifying riot of aggression, knocking him to the floor.

Damon continued walking, his eyes controlled, masking any emotion within. It was impossible to tell what Damon was thinking.

"You're right, Stefan, I don't understand".

He walked towards his bedroom without looking back. It was going to be a very long night.