CHAPTER 2-

ELENA

I pushed the towel hard down onto the wound; trying to stop the bleeding. It turned deep rouge and I tried to avoid thinking about the reddish-pink colour that was staining my palm and soaking into my nails.

I started to panic. Jenna was in the next room; Jeremy upstairs. Uncle John...My biological father; was lying in a pool of his own blood; the stab wound was deep and hid fingerless hand was oozing. I felt queasy; the sight of blood had never done that to me before but it was more the culprit for the wound that was driving me crazy.

I lifted Uncle John's un-harmed hand and placed it to hold the towel for me. He was barely conscious but he tried to mutter something to me.

I ran to the other room and dialled the first number that came to my head. Surprisingly it wasn't 999. Instead I prayed for Stefan to answer his cell.

Of course he didn't. I cut the call and instantly stabbed in a new number, again it wasn't 999.

"Elena?" Damon's voice came down the phone and he sounded cautious; almost like after today's fire and Stefan saving him he didn't know where we stood.

"Damon; help me." I sobbed down the phone.

Damon's concerned eyes met mine as I opened the door; I had convinced Jenna to head to Alaric's house and check that he was okay. I hadn't heard a peep out of Jeremy which had concerned me but I had to sort Uncle Jon out before I could go babysit Jere'. After all he'd made it almost perfectly clear that we weren't on speaking terms which probably meant he wanted to be left alone.

"Kitchen" I muttered and he headed at vampire speed in the direction of Uncle John. When I reached the kitchen he was looking horrified at the scene on floor. That worried me. If Damon was horrified y what he saw then something was seriously wrong here.

He started pressing the towel harder into Uncle John's wound causing a fresh burst of blood to appear. His eyes turned red and the tight veins appeared tightening his eyes.

I saw him clench his jaws together and he closed his eyes, shook his head and when he opened them his face had returned to the normal Damon.

"Damon I'm so sorry, I panicked; I didn't think about that...the effect it would have on you. Go its okay; if you need to go, go." I stuttered hardly believing that I had been stupid enough to call my vampire friend for help with a man covered in fresh pouring blood.

Damon shook his head; determined not to leave "No; it is notokay. You called me for help...me; I will help you."

"Damon; it is okay. I promise. Go and tell Stefan for me and I'll call an ambulance."

Damon shook his head in frustration again but one look at the blood and Damon's eyes filled again and his teeth extended into clear fangs.

He looked at me with desperation and gave a plea..."I'm sorry. If I do stay; I'll kill him."

I nodded and gave an understanding glance but my insides flared with panic; I was going to have to face this one alone.

"I'll tell Stefan. We'll head straight to the hospital okay. Elena...I really am so sorry."

Again I nodded. Damon ran out of the back door and I finally punched in 999.

"Hello; please state the service you require." A polite voice came down the phone calm...it made me more anxious than I could describe.

"I...need a...my Uncle is... he's been...stabbed...blood...everywhere...don't know...to do." I hyperventilated.

"Pleas remain calm and state the service you require." The voice repeated just as collected as before.

"Ambulance! I need an ambulance!" I yelled...wasn't it obvious? I'd told her my uncle had been stabbed of course I needed an ambulance.

"Please hold..." the voice came.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. I shook nervously..."You gotta be kidding me!" I felt like screaming.

I knelt down to Uncle John who was starting to fade completely.

He was gasping.

Not knowing what to do I just sat there in the blood; my jeans absorbing it, turning them from a pale blue to a deep navy stain.

He moved suddenly and I gasped, still on hold.

He clutched my hand and squeezed it as tightly as a dying man could have the strength to.

I looked down at the man who was my biological father and felt a pang of guilt. He meant nothing of great importance to me. When the man I had always known as my dad died in a car crash alongside the person I saw as my mother; I had been distraught for months. I knew the feeling of sadness and pain that thoughts of them caused to wash over me would never fade. But here lay my uncle John; for whom most of my existence I had spent despising. I had learnt only a few hours before that he was my real dad...and I still felt no fear that I would lose him. Only that a man would die in my kitchen I had no explanation for it.

That caused another pang of guilt to rush through me; what kind of person could I be if the thought of anybody dying meant that little to me.

'He did try to kill your boyfriend not four hours ago.' I thought to myself.

Uncle John wheezed a deep breath pulling my attention back to him.

He tried to mutter something but gasped in breathlessness again.

The doorbell rang and I rushed to answer it. The ambulance crew stormed through and I muttered 'Kitchen' and they rushed into the kitchen.

Knowing that I'd have to go to the hospital I jogged upstairs and headed straight for Jeremy's room. He and Uncle John had become quite friendly these past few days. I knocked on the door but nobody answered; uncertain whether he was ignoring me or couldn't hear because of headphones I pushed the door open anyhow.

He was lying flat on the bed, peacefully sleeping.

I sat on the edge of his bed and shook him gently.

"Jeremy..." I sat softly.

He didn't move. I shook him harder...

"Jeremy!" I yelled as he didn't stir.

I felt his wrist...watched his chest...followed his arm across to his hand that had fallen over the other side of the bed. I stood; walked round to see...and I screamed.

On the floor was an empty pill bottle; a smashed glass and a pool of water soaking into the cream rug.

"No!" I sped back to Jeremy and shook him desperately... "Jeremy! You have to WAKE UP! Please just wake up!" The tears poured from my face and I bounded downstairs and to the kitchen.

They'd put Uncle John on a stretcher and were carrying him away.

"Please you have to help me...My brother...upstairs; he's not breathing! I think he's taken something." I cried and the ambulance men looked startled. Two of them rushed up stairs and a few minutes later were calling for aid.

I panicked. What if I'd have gone to check on Jeremy instead of just shouting up to him? Had I saved Uncle John at the price of losing my brother? Why did this all have to happen to me...on the same day! Would I rather have saved Jeremy...gone to his aid first and left Uncle John? I couldn't answer that question. Instead I forced myself to focus through the tears though every movement felt like a heavy weight...grief pulling me down. Had I lost Jeremy forever?

I called Jenna; it went to voicemail and I could hardly mouth the words.

"Jenna...its Uncle Jon...And Jeremy. Meet me at the hospital please."

They had to wait for another ambulance for Jeremy.

Forty five minutes later and we were finally at the hospital. They had taken Uncle John to the emergency operating theatre.

I stayed with Jeremy as they started shouting in medical terms...my heart went cold as I heard "we've got a D.O.A."

Everybody stopped panicking around my brother; they all gave sorrowful shakes of the head. One nurse wrapped a blanket around me and tried to pull me away.

"No...I have to stay with him...he needs me to stay with him. He'll be so alone." I sobbed so hard it hurt.

I thought about my life; one long line of mourning. My real mother Isobel rejecting me at birth; the loss of my adoptive parents in a car crash I would never have survived without Stefan saving me at my Father's insistence. My uncle John in the operating theatre down the hall; fast fading from this world, hardly any life left in him. And the boy, who had been with me through it all, shared my grief...laughed together at jokes...we hadn't even been on speaking terms...

The doctor came and interrupted my thoughts.

I tried to stop crying and though my gasps stopped the tears were on constant fall. They rolled silently down my cheeks, leaving behind little trails that represented the wounds; invisible wounds that burned into me with every loss.

"I'm sorry Ms...?" he looked at me for a name.

"Gilbert. Elena Gilbert." My voice was raspy; a tiny squeak. More tears fell like autumn leaves; my eyes felt swollen. 'Red and puffy probably' I thought.

". Your brother had taken an overdose of Paracetomol; usually a boy of his age and health would survive this kind of overdose but due to the length of time he was left his liver began to fail. I'm afraid he was pronounced D.O.A and there was nothing our team could do for him. We have people we can refer you too; they can explain in greater detail and help you with your loss. May I ask if the mother and father have been made aware?" The doctor looked at me.

My eyes welled and I burst into fresh sobs..."They passed away about a year ago. My Aunt Jenna wouldn't answer her cell so I left a voicemail, she should be heading here soon"

The doctor nodded and started leading me to some office. We passed the Emergency Entrance and I saw Stefan and Damon burst through the doors.

They both looked at me. I first acknowledged Damon; his eyes again looked apologetic. He still felt guilty; I could see it in his expression. Then my eyes found Stefan and instead of staying with the doctor I ran to him and he caught me in his arms and held onto me tightly.

My tears wouldn't stop. I gasped for air and clung to Stefan so desperately. I could barely hold myself up and I couldn't keep myself together. I melted into a mix of cries and sobs and whimpers.

"Ssh...Come on now...sssh." Stefan kissed my hair and I felt comforted in his arms. But the loss of my brother was a deep black hole rooted into my chest and sucking everything from me. My energy; my happiness; my love for life it was all being drawn into the emptiness where Jeremy used to be. All that remained was a darkness; numb and yet excruciatingly painful all at once.

"Is it your uncle Elena...is he...?" Damon asked from behind Stefan. He looked helpless. His expression held a pain I had never seen in him before.

"My uncle?" I asked confused...I had forgotten about Uncle John being in Surgery.

"Your Uncle John...Elena that's why you're here isn't it. Because of your Uncle John being stabbed?" Stefan outstretched his arms so he could look at me while he questioned me.

"No...Well yes and no. Uncle John's in the Emergency operating room..." I took a deep breath; my eyes stung so badly and they were starting to stick together as I blinked.

"...But?" Damon asked; sensing there was more. He looked confused and I was reminded that as far as they were aware Jeremy was at home.

"It's Jeremy...he's gone." I felt my face crumpled, a few tears escaped despite me trying to contain them.

"Gone? Elena; I don't understand...Gone where?" Stefan asked looking puzzled.

I took a deep breath; reluctantly saying it out loud.

"Jeremy took an overdose...He was pronounced dead on arrival..." I felt my hands go clammy and looked at both Salvatore brothers'.

Stefan was shaking his head in disbelief...Damon had gone white as if he'd seen a ghost.