WOW. I got the BEST reaction to my first chapter. I decided to put up the second chapter just to get the ball rolling. Don't expect such quick updates as this one!
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And I present to you...*drumroll*...DAMON'S POV!
I've been through this dance so many times before its lost its novelty. Save me Damon. Help me Damon. Don't leave me Damon. I don't know what I would do without you Damon.
Yeah, well, that's the biggest line of bull I've ever heard. And believe me, I've been around long enough to hear a lot of shit.
I'm exhausted - mentally and physically- and yet my mind is whirling. I feel my hands trembling faster then humanely possible and clench them into tight fists as I brush past doctors and nurses. I must look like a demon. A bat out of hell. Well fuck all of them.
I'm dying to turn around and grab something wooden, to run back into Elena's room with those shiny brass numbers 2-0-3 on the outside, and drive it into Stefan's sniveling, emotion-filled heart. Rot in hell, little brother.
Because he listened to Elena once again when it's so obvious that she doesn't know what she wants. She doesn't get it. We do. And yet he goes to save Matt because Elena wanted him to. Like the little lapdog he is.
I don't know if I'm even going to forgive him for this, or her, for that matter, because by my count they've both done me wrong. I'm all out of second chances. I'm no Christian Forgiveness Club, I'm Damon fucking Salvatore. Or had they forgotten what I'm capable of? Swinging the hospital door open and striding into the crystal cool night air to clear my head only causes it to turn to more insane conclusions.
I love Elena so much it physically hurts. I hate her so much at the same time. I know what she's about to become - and even though I secretly hoped that one day she would change for me - that dream is over. Crushed. Like so many others over the course of this batshit cry fest of a night. Now she's going to have forever to hate me and cast me 'fuck me' pity looks and forever to make love to Stefan and ride off into the sunset.
It's all too much and before I know it, I'm in the creepy woods our gang so loves to romp around in, staring at all the trees around me. All the pointy little branches that I should end myself with.
Because who'll miss me, really? Caroline is bound to set up some sort of plastic support group for the damage done tonight - and hell, I can see myself now, sobbing grossly into Caroline's shirt. I know myself well enough to realize I'd be a goner the minute Elena's name is brought up.
Elena. She's dead, too, but in a different sense. She's me now. I am her. And Stefan. Always Stefan.
I'm pacing in circles practically foaming at the mouth with all the feelings I'm trying to choke down. I'd never counted on losing Elena forever, but isn't that what'd she said?
'I care about you, Damon, which is why I have to let you go.'
Fuck that. I snarl, gripping a tree branch and snapping it in half. She's never said she loved me. Never once.
And I was fool enough to believe that maybe - somehow - she did.
I need to feed. I need to drink. I need to get laid. I need Elena. I hate Elena. I hate Stefan. Stefan let me down.
Thoughts whirling, I collapse against a tree and stare into space like a drunk man. Hell, maybe I am drunk. Maybe this is one shit faced dream and I'm going to wake up -
No. Nope. Life's a bitch. I'm not going to wake up. Not ever.
I brace myself mentally for the next time I am going to face Elena, wishing that I had been the one to help her through the transition, with soft caresses and big plans. It's all been stolen from her now. She'll have little St. Steffie to hold her hand and show her how to drink blood. She'll have to watch as Stefan loses it over all the messy gore she'll be spilling during her first time and she'll have to watch as Stefan kills her first feeding victim. I know Elena. Elena wouldn't want for any of her victims to die. Not even as a vampire.
Stefan will try and teach her how to control her bloodlust by the bunny diet. Talk about the blind leading the blind.
I press my hands to my temples and try to get a grip at this newest reality. I told Stefan I would leave town - maybe I should. Could I really just leave? Forget about vampire Elena and Stefan?
Not without killing Meredith first. Bitch.
The question arises in my tired mind about who's blood Meredith gave Elena. I'd have to keep her alive and talking for that answer to come out. And what if the blood was mine? God, what then? To know that it was my blood flowing through her veins?
I know what then. I'd go insane. Right off the age. I'd stake Saint Stefan and I'd probably stake myself in the process. And then Elena would be left staring at the fuck-up of brotherhood carnage on the floor and left to finish herself off or live in eternity without us.
Eternity without us. Sounds nice. I raise my eyebrows as I muse the possibility of Stefan and I never existing.
I blame my parents for that one.
There is, however, a part of me that realizes I failed them in a sense. I'm forever failing. I left Elena when I promised I wouldn't, left her in the hands of Stefan and his Free-Will Brigade. Left her because I meant to save her. My mind flashes to all the previous times I'd fucked up with Elena and I come up with one memory in particular.
Carrying her out of the hospital bed. My finest moment. Feeling her soft skin under my arms and her trusting, chocolate eyes on mine as we casually swayed out of that place was the best thing that ever happened between us. Besides the kiss. The kisses.
I can't even afford to think about kissing Elena because I'm pretty sure I'd end up going out and killing a bus full of nuns, I'm that upset.
I take a deep breath that I don't even need, a sad attempt at clearing my head, and decide my plan of action.
I should go back and be there for Elena, but no, she has Stefan. I have to remind myself that Stefan is her savior now and I have no business lurking around like the third wheel I've become. Stefan can help her through this night - because as much as baby bro is clueless, I know he won't make the same mistake twice and let Elena do something stupid and selfless.
Alright Elena, you wanted this.
I'm at the Mystic Falls bar in a blink, seated coolly in one of the seats, guzzling down drink after drink like the pathetic, sad little mess I am, compelling the bartender so I get them free of charge.
Maybe if we had met first...
She's a fool. We had met first. And now she'll remember. I cringe. I picture Elena all vamped out, cape of righteous independence flaring behind her, mad as all hell that I took her memories away. She'll remember the little confession I made, too.
God, how embarrassing.
I already know what will come out of her mouth after she's done being furious: 'Stefan wouldn't have done that.'
Well, that's where you're wrong. Saint Stefan has never been put in precarious situations like unrequited love before. It's a very strange concept to him, Elena.
A pretty set of eyes catches mine at the other end of the bar and I smirk at them seductively. I set my drink down with a decided thud, walking up to the woman having eye-sex with me confidently. As if I'm not falling apart at the seams.
I strike up a flirtatious conversation, giving every impression that I'm enthralled by her boring-as-dish-water replies, never once giving it away that all I wanna do is use her. Drain her dry. Get on a high for five fucking minutes.
Just five minutes. Five minutes and then I'll go back to love-struck Damon Salvatore, the little boy who would do anything for a tragic, fickle dopplevamp.
As luck would have it, five minutes isn't enough. The night wears on, I get what I want, when I want, and suddenly, Elena isn't my problem anymore.
At least not for tonight, because I'm trying really hard to turn my emotions off.
