A/N: Just a quick note; I'm posting this chapter two hours early for a reason. A very epic reason. Her name is Georgia. If you don't know her, then it sucks to be you; you're missing out on Twinneh Epicness! ;)

Elena woke up, her senses all groggy. She could hear faint beeping, and strained to sit up, her eyes snapping open when someone eased her back down.

"Mom…?"

"No, Elena… it's Jenna."

The tone of voice her aunt possessed made Elena frown. Why did it sound like she was crying? What was going on…?

Forcing her eyes open, Elena locked onto her aunt, who's eyes were red rimmed and puffy. She noted that they were in a hospital room, and she was hooked up to an IV that was dripping something into her veins. Had she been in some sort of cheerleading accident tonight? Where were her parents? Home with Jeremy?

"Elena… there was an accident."

Slowly, Elena nodded nonchalantly. "Did I fall from the top of the pyramid again?"

Jenna's brow furrowed in confusion. "No, Elena… a serious accident. You don't remember…?"

"Remember what? What's going on?"

More tears formed and leaked from Jenna's eyes. "Oh, Elena… it's your mom and dad. You were in a car crash, and drove off Wickery Bridge…"

Elena gave a small gasp. "Oh, my God… where is Mom and Dad? Are they okay?"

Jenna started to cry harder as she shook her head. "No, Elena, they aren't. They were both pronounced dead on the scene."

Elena heard nothing else after those words. She knew her aunt was prattling on about some stranger saving herself, but being unable to save her mother and father… but she couldn't seem to listen. They weren't dead. Grayson and Miranda Gilbert couldn't be dead. They just couldn't be…

"This isn't funny, Jenna; knock it off," Elena said, frowning.

"Funny?" Jenna wheezed. "Nothing about this is funny! Elena, your little brother is down in the morgue right now, being shown his dead parents! Do you think that's funny?"

"Stop lying!"

"I'm not lying!" Jenna screamed. "Your parents are dead! My big sister is dead…!"

A doctor came in when she heard Jenna becoming hysterical, and quickly lead her from the room, shutting the heavy door behind her. Elena was left alone in the cold, silent room to process what she had heard. A car crash… Wickery Bridge… her parents… dead… Jeremy… morgue…

No. No, she wouldn't believe it…

She looked up again when the doctor returned, looking sympathetic. "I'm sorry about that, Miss Gilbert; your aunt was supposed to ease the news on you when you woke, but clearly she's still too shaken up…"

"I want to see my parents," Elena said quietly. "I need to know that Jenna was lying."

"Lying?" The doctor frowned. "Sweetheart, your aunt wasn't lying. You were in a terrible car accident; one your parents tragically didn't make it out of. It's a miracle that you did. Had it not been for that man who brought you in…"

"Man?" Elena asked, her mind grasping the only piece of information that didn't terrify her. "What man?"

The doctor shook her head, her black hair shaking a bit. "Nobody knows who he was. He whisked you in, put you on a gurney and said what your condition was, and to tend to you. Then he was gone."

"What did he look like?"

"Miss Gilbert, I really think that's the least of your concerns right now. If you want to see your parents, I'll arrange for someone to wheel you down, but I'm afraid it's going to be hard to witness."

Elena shook her head. "Why? They aren't dead; Jenna is crazy…"

"Elena, your aunt isn't crazy. You're in a state of denial, which will pass soon enough. Until then, I don't think it's a good idea to see your parents."

"I want to see my parents! They aren't dead! I need to see that they aren't dead!"

"Miss Gilbert, I'm sorry, but they are…"

"They aren't dead! My parents aren't dead!"

"Elena, please…"

"THEY AREN'T DEAD…!"

The doctor was talking to a nurse rapidly while Elena became hysterical, and the nurse quickly came in and put a needle in Elena's IV. Instantaniously, Elena calmed, and drifted off to sleep.

"Poor girl…" the nurse said, tucking a lock of blonde hair behind her ear as she disgarded the needle.

The doctor nodded. "A real shame. Grayson worked here for years, you know; that his daughter, Elena."

The nurse gasped. "It was Grayson Gilbert who was killed?"

The doctor nodded as they exited Elena's room. "Yes; he and his wife, Miranda. The wife's sister and their son are down with them now. The poor kid is a mess; doesn't know what to think."

"A shame," the nurse nodded. "A real shame…"

… . … . … . … . …

Zach Salvatore sighed as he looked at the massive wall of books. He was so tempted to just be rid of them; get a new collection. No one who stayed here ever read them; they were all too old, musty, and boring. That is, when people stayed her; evidently, there was something off-putting about the Salvatore Boarding House.

Zach, finally deciding to go through with the task, had been reaching for the first book when he heard the front door quietly open. Frowning, he assumed that it may be Lacy, the girl who helped with housekeeping. But why would she be here so late?

"Lacy? Is that you?"

No response. He cringed when he heard a gush of air nearby. A gush he was all too familiar with.

"Who's there?"

Quietly, he reached for the sharpened stake he always kept hidden in the woodpile by the fireplace.

Another gush of air. Then another; and another. It was getting closer.

"Show yourself!" Zach yelled, and he gasped when the stake was pulled from his grasp, snapped, and tossed into the burning fireplace. He cringed when his eyes locked with a terrifyingly familiar pair of light blue that had haunted him since childhood.

"Now, now, Zach; is that really any way to greet your Uncle Damon?"

"What are you doing here?" Zach spat with hatred; he couldn't stand Damon. He was cruel, impulsive, and left a trail of destruction in his wake wherever he went.

Damon shrugged. "Can't I come visit family ever decade or so?"

"No, you can't," Zach said angrily. "Whenever you go somewhere, it's because you want something. What is it?"

"Hey, do you know Elena Gilbert?"

Zach froze as he watched Damon toss his jacket on the couch and walk casually over to the liquor cart, predictably pouring himself a glass of bourbon. Oh, no…

"Why?" Zach asked, wishing he still had that stake for the attack that was obviously soon inevitable.

"I just find it interesting that she's a living, breathing copy of Katherine, and you, my dear nephew," he pointed a slender finger at Zach, "Failed to tell me about her."

"Well, you don't exactly send me phone calls every other week, now do you? This is the first time you've been here since I was fifteen."

Damon shrugged. "What was stopping you from calling me?"

"I don't know your phone number."

Damon shrugged. "Fair enough. Now that I'm here; tell me about her."

Zach sighed. "There's nothing to tell. She's an average high school junior, cheerleader, and innocent human girl. Leave her alone, Damon."

"Leave her alone?" Damon asked, sauntering over with his bourbon. "Now, I'm not so sure that's such a good idea."

"How the hell do you figure that?"

"Well, how about this? If not for me, she'd be dead right now."

Zach blinked, clearly taken off guard by this. "What…?"

"Her parents car went off Wickery Bridge. Parents are dead; drowned. I got her out. Took her to the hospital."

"Grayson and Miranda are dead?" Zach asked in quiet disbelief.

"Mmm-hm," Damon nodded, uncaring, as he took a sip of his drink.

"Why didn't you do something?" Zach cried, furious.

Damon rolled his eyes. "The mother, Miranda, was already dead when I got there. Grayson was as good as dead, and kept pointing to the back, telling me to save Elena. So I did. End of story. Now, tell me about her. Why does she look like Katherine?"

"How should I know?" Zach yelled, still furious that his uncle had just let Grayson and Miranda Gilbert die. Hell, he'd likely have let Elena drown, too, if she hadn't looked just like her.

"Because, Zach," Damon said, gesturing to the wall of books Zach had just been about to get rid of. "You have this nifty wall of books. Surely there's something in there about clones."

Zach mumbled something under his breath, and Damon raised an eyebrow.

"Hmm?"

"I said, I've never read them," Zach repeated, and Damon's eyebrows shot up.

"You've lived in this house your entire life, and you haven't read a single one of my books?"

Zach's expression was purely bored now. "No. In fact, I was just about to get rid of them. They stink, and I need to get more customers in here."

"Oh, that won't be necessary," Damon shook his head, taking another swig of bourbon.

"Why is that?" Zach snapped.

"Because," Damon said with an uncustomary, unsettlingly cheerful grin. "I plan on staying here a while."

… . … . … . … . …

"And on this day, we say goodbye to a loving mother and father, a sister and a brother, a daughter and a son, a brilliant real-estate agent and an intelligent, charming doctor. Miranda and Grayson Gilbert shall never be forgotten, and shall always live on in our hearts. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, in the Lord's name, Amen."

"Amen," the crowd of people, all dressed in black chorused as they stood around the two coffins, being lowered into the ground. Tears trailed down Elena's face as she turned and hugged her uncle John, who stood with an arm around Jeremy, who looked more moody than usual. Silent tears were trailing down his face, his unruly brown hair wet at its tips.

Quietly, everyone made their way up and placed flowers of all kinds on the two wooden coffins, and final goodbyes were said. John then led Elena and Jeremy away from the over whelming crowd.

"Elena,"

Jumping slightly at the sound of her name being called by a rather unfamiliar voice, Elena turned her head to the side. A man was walking over to him, and she recognized his dark, messy black hair and piercing blue eyes instantly. It was him. She faintly remembered him saving her and taking her to the hospital, but that had been the last she had seen of him. That had been nearly two weeks ago.

"Damon…" she whispered as he reached them, decked out in an entirely black suit. He looked more sympathetic than she remembered him being the night of the accident. But then, he had just saved a girl from drowning, and had been forced to tell her that her parents were dead. He had obviously been rather stressed.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he said, and his eyes moved from her to John and Jeremy. "All of you. I lost both of my parents as well, and I know how hard it is."

John was frowning. "If you don't mind me asking, who are you, exactly?"

"I'm Damon," he said, offering his hand. "Damon Salvatore."

John eyed the rather bulky ring on Damon's finger as he accepted his hand and shook it.

"Uncle John, Damon is the man who saved my life the night of the accident," Elena said quietly, and Jeremy's eyes snapped to attention.

"That was you?" he snapped, and then cried, "Why the hell didn't you save my parents, too? What the fuck is wrong with you…?"

"Jeremy!" Elena gasped in embarrassment, her cheeks flushing. John shook his head as Jeremy tossed his arm away and stalked off on his own.

"Give me a minute?" John asked, and Elena nodded as he walked off after Jeremy, calling his name.

"I am so sorry," Elena said, her eyes nervously roaming back to Damon. "He's just so upset… all of this is hard for him. He's only fourteen…"

"Don't worry about it," Damon said, nodding. "I was the same way when my mother died. I blamed everyone in the world, because it was the only way I could make myself feel better."

Elena swallowed hard and nodded, looking down. She gave a small gasp when Damon tilted her chin up, his stunning blue eyes searching around in her brown orbs. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, and she shook her head as more tears leaked from her eyes.

"No," she croaked. "No, I'm not…"

Damon sighed softly and dropped his hand. "I am sorry I couldn't save them, Elena," he said, in a nearly pleading tone. "You have to believe me…"

"No, I do," she said, nodding with reassurance through her tears. "I just… it's a lot to handle…"

"I know," Damon sighed, putting his hands in his suit jacket pocket, fishing around until he came across a silky black handkerchief, passing it to her. Elena eyed it with slight surprise; what kind of a man kept silky pocket hankies in their suit jackets? Clearly, Damon Salvatore did. Dabbing her eyes, she gave him a weak smile.

"Thank you…"

"Don't mention it," Damon replied simply, giving her a small, charming smile. "If there's anything you need, I wanted you to know that I'm staying at the Salvatore Boarding House. My uncle runs the place."

"Zach Salvatore is your uncle?" she asked, sniffling, surprised.

Damon nodded; so she did know Zach.

"Yes, he is," Damon said. "Do you know him well?"

Elena shook her head. "No, not really. My mom visited him a few times, wondering if he would ever be willing to sell the boarding house, and I would go with her. It's amazing," she said, giving him a tiny smile.

Damon grinned. "It is. Zach wants to redecorate…"

"No!" Elena gasped, and then blushed. "I mean… I like it the way it is…"

Damon gave a small chuckle. "So do I. I like the authentic, antique look. I always have."

Because I designed it, a voice in Damon's mind whispered, and he repressed the urge to smirk.

"Me too," Elena said, smiling curiously at him as she wiped her eyes again, and then offered him is hankie.

"Oh, no," Damon shook his head, smiling, holding up his hands. "You keep it." He smiled softly. "I think you'll need it far more than I will."

Elena gave him a weak smile. "Thank you… for coming. You didn't have to…"

"I felt I owed you this much," Damon said softly, and Elena looked up at him in surprise. "You owe me? Oh, no… I owe you! You saved my life, Damon…"

Damon smiled and shook his head. "I couldn't just let you down, Elena. Anyone would have done it."

"Elena, we need to get back to the house…" Jenna had come up and grabbed Elena's elbow, but she trailed off and her eyes widened when she caught sight of Damon. Beautiful, charming Damon… "Uh… hi," she said, flushing a bit.

"Umm… Aunt Jenna, this is Damon Salvatore. He saved me the night of the crash."

Jenna's eyes widened even more as she shook his hand. "That was you?" she asked, and he nodded. "Oh, we can't thank you enough for saving Elena, truly…"

Damon smiled. "No thanks are necessary, Miss Sommers." He glanced at Elena. "I'm really sorry, but I can't stay. I have a few things I need to do…"

"Oh, don't be sorry…" Elena shook her head. "Thank you for coming."

He smiled and dropped Jenna's hand, gently taking her own and bringing it to his lips. "If you need anything, you know where I am," he said softly, placing a gently kiss to her knuckles before releasing her and turning, walking down the hill toward a light blue Camaro.

Jenna released a breath when he was gone. "Wow…" she breathed, and Elena blushed. "He is the guy who saved you?"

Elena nodded as they started down the hill toward Jenna's car. "Yeah, he is."

"Are you sure he isn't an angel?"

Elena blushed more. "What do you mean?"

"Just looked at him, Elena; he's gorgeous!"

Elena shook her head as she climbed in the passenger seat of Jenna's car. "Let's just go home, okay?" she tossed a glance back up the hill at the piles of dirt and felt her stomach clench. "I need to get away from here."

… . … . … . … . …

"Zach, I'm home!" Damon yelled as he walked into the boarding house, tossing his keys on the small table by the front door. "Why the hell weren't you at the funeral? Elena says you were friends with Miranda."

Damon couldn't help but smirk when he said her name; he knew how much it would annoy Zach that he had spoken to her again. He heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and grinned. "You know, it really is rude…"

He trailed off when he locked eyes with a young blonde girl instead of his idiot nephew. "Who the hell are you?" he asked her, and she flushed.

"Umm…. I'm Lacy," she said, holding up a feather duster. "I keep the house tidy while Zach is away sometimes. Can I help you? Do you need a room?"

Damon snorted. "I live here, Lacy."

She frowned, her red lip-glossed lips pursing slightly. "Who are you, exactly?"

"Damon Salvatore," he said, for what felt like the thousandth time lately.

Lacy blushed. "Oh; another Salvatore. Zach didn't mention he had family visiting…"

"He probably didn't expect you to run into me," Damon said, and plastered on his most charming smile as he made his way over to her. "Where are my manners? It's lovely to meet you, Lacy," he said with a dashing grin, lowering his eyelids slightly as his blue eyes smoldered.

Lacy felt herself nearly go weak in the knees. Dear God, he was sexy. How had Zach failed to mention that a sexy cousin or relative who could be compared to a Greek god was staying with him? "Likewise," she said with a faint blush creeping to her cheeks. "Can I… get you anything?" she asked, and he grinned.

"Oh, you could get me a lot of things, Lacy. I'm particularly hungry, though," he said, taking her feather duster and tossing it carelessly aside. Her eyes widened and her blush spread.

"Oh…."

He licked his lips. "You see, Lacy…" he moved so he was standing flush against her. "I haven't eaten all day. I had a funeral to attend."

"Can I, umm… get you something…?" she whispered, repressing the groan of yearning that was threatening to emerge as the muscles in her belly clenched. He was so hot…

"Mmm… yes, you can," he smirked, placing his hands on her hips, her hypersensitive skin tingling below her satin pink shirt. She gasped as she felt his nose trail up her neck, and his lips begin to pepper kisses down her throat. "You could get me so, so many things, Lacy…" he purred, and she shivered.

"Whatever you want, you can have…" she whispered huskily.

"Good…" Damon whispered, slipping a hand up her shirt and grinning as he cupped her breast. "Because I want one thing in particular…"

"Oh…" Lacy groaned, her eyes fluttering she; she had a fairly decent idea what this man wanted from her. "What, Damon…"

Damon chuckled. "Your blood…" he muttered, and she felt her heartbeat pick up. He wanted her blood… wait. What…?

Lacy didn't even have time to scream. Before she could make a sound, Damon had sunk sharp, pointed fangs into her jugular vein and was feeding hungrily on every drop of her life essence. Twenty minutes later, he let the girl drop carelessly to the ground.

"There," he said with a smirk, licking his lips of the last few drops of her blood. He heard the door open, and knew Zach was home. "Hey, Zach?" he called, grinning even more. "I think Lacy missed a spot."