2/Elena

Matt pulled into a dark car-park and cut the engine. Other than Matt's peeling blue truck there was only one other vehicle in the lot and I recognised it as Stefan's black jeep. The plan had been for Damon and Stefan to drive Klaus and his coffin as far away from Mystic Falls as they could and then drop the Original into the ocean. The plan hadn't gone as well as it should and Stefan had been forced back home to save my life. Again. And Damon had gone on alone. The coffin had been resting in the storage units waiting for daylight to come and then Damon would take it across the border and catch a boat from there. That had been the plan up until Alaric had arrived and ended everything.

I slid out of the car and Matt met me around the front of the truck. I gazed at the foreboding black building which was shrouded in darkness and a cool chill crept down my spine. Matt put a hand on my shoulder and I turned to face him, meeting his dark blue eyes. He nodded in understanding and I was glad that he knew that I had to do this alone.

"Be careful in there," he said.

"Alaric can't hurt me," I replied, "make sure you lock the doors."

And with that I turned and headed towards the building. The front entrance was unlocked and the door was banging open against the wall in the cool breeze. I swallowed hard and stepped inside. My heels clicked methodically against the tiled floor as I headed blindly into the darkness. No lights lit the corridor so I had to feel my way along the walls, only daring to breathe.

"Damon…" I hissed. There was the sound of a door slamming and then something smashed loudly up ahead. I stopped where I stood, my skin crawled with uneasiness and all I could think of was the darkness which threatened to suffocate me. I passed by rows of storage units, my fingers tracing the jagged pull down shutters. I finally reached the end of the corridor and pushed the door which I was facing. It opened slightly but the hinges froze. I leaned my shoulder against it and tried to shift it. When nothing happened, I leaned back and shoved my arm against it. The door gave way and I tumbled into what looked like a collecting and filing room. A large van with its back doors wide open was parked in the centre, and a coffin lay on a table just waiting to be loaded in.

"Elena?" came a questioning whisper from behind the van. I rushed around and saw the bloody and beaten figure of Damon Salvatore slumped against the white paint, blood splattered all across one side. I covered my mouth with my hands and approached slowly. Damon's face was swollen and blood oozed from his mouth and nose. Some of it had dried on his forehead and in his hair. Both of his eyes were ringed with large blue-black circles and one was completely sealed closed. He looked up at me through matted hair and I fought the urge to break into sobs.

"Why hasn't it healed?" I asked instead, creeping forwards and crouching down beside him.

"He had weapons infused with Vervain," he explained, rolling his head to the side so he could look at me with his less bruised eye. My own eyes raked over his battered figure and for the first time I noticed the wooden stake sticking out of his body. From its position I knew it had missed his heart, but only just and probably pierced the bone. There were several other stakes protruding from his calves and upper arms and I recognised the familiar scent of vervain. My hands fluttered uselessly over each stake.

"What should I do?" I breathed.

"You have to get them out," he replied.

I nodded fiercely and decided to start with the worst one, the one wedged deep in his chest. I clutched it with both hands and readied myself for the task. I closed my eyes and began to pull, eliciting a strangled cry from Damon.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I sobbed as I eased the wood from his body. Once it was out I dropped it onto the ground with a clatter. I began to open Damon's torn shirt so that I could assess the damage and his hand snaked out and found my own.

"Get the rest out…" he almost begged and I saw the wound in his chest begin to evaporate like steam. I nodded, squeezing his hand before I moved on to the stakes in his arms. They were easier to pry away from his healing flesh. The ones in his calves were trickier, wedged tightly into the bones which had already begun to fix themselves, splintering the wood as they closed around the stakes. Damon's howls echoed around the empty collection room and I found my own cries muffled by the sound. Once the final piece was removed I collapsed against the blood splattered van, my breathing heavy as I listened to Damon's whimpers. I took a moment to rest my head on his shoulder and felt one of his hands touch my hair.

"We need to clean your face, you're burned quite badly and your eye…" I mumbled, turning to face him again. It wasn't as bad as it had been when I had found him, but I knew that the dangerous plant was still burning below the surface. Damon was strong, after hundreds of years of learning to deal with pain, he complained very little. But I had seen the damage Vervain could do. I got to my feet and began searching for a bathroom. Instead I found several bottles of alcohol, cloths and bottles of water. I headed back to Damon and kneeled beside him, dousing the first cloth with water. I set about cleaning his face. I felt him tense as I gently cleaned the blood from his cheeks and forehead. I even poured some of the water over his hair to release some of the dried blood there. Once his face was free from any remaining blood, I noticed how his eyes were beginning to look a lot better and his lips returning to their normal colour. After I handed Damon a bottle of the strong vodka, I used another bottle to clean the rest of the Vervain from his skin, and clean the wounds where the stakes had penetrated his skin. My hands were shaking and I lifted the bottle to my lips, taking a long swig. Automatically my stomach felt warmer and my head lighter. After several more sweeps of the alcoholic cloth, Damon was looking a lot more like himself. He had swigged half of his vodka and was now clutching the bottle to his chest. He had a satisfied smile on his lips and I couldn't help but match his grin at the irony of the situation. I was looking after Damon just like all the times he'd looked after me.

"Thank you," he breathed.

"Damon…" I whispered, shuffling closer. At the same time we reached for each other and I took his face in my hands. He brushed my hair away from my eyes and touched his forehead to mine. I closed my eyes and just enjoyed the feel of his proximity.

"I can't believe you're here," he said after a very long silence. He didn't say it, and I didn't say it, but the knowledge of my choice hung in the air between us. I felt guilty, and the grief of my decision burned my conscience.

"Damon, if Klaus really is your sire then we don't have much time," I sighed, sitting back slightly and untangling my arms from his. Damon rolled his eyes and the corners of his mouth tilted into a sarcastic smile.

"It is so bizarre to hear you say that. I never expected it to end this way," he laughed. The sound was bitter and uncomfortable, like nails on a chalk-board. He drew a hand across his jaw and swung his eyes on me. They held a pained expression and they sparkled dangerously in the dim light. "It isn't supposed to be like this," he hissed angrily, sweeping to his feet and pacing backwards and forwards. I dropped my head into my hands and hated the way Damon's voice echoed violently across the room.

"He could have been lying. This might not be it. If Klaus thought that he was in danger then he would lie to save his ass. He's done it before, Damon…" I suggested, clambering to my feet and approaching him. He had stopped pacing and now stood with his back to me, his head dropped and his arms hanging by his side in defeat. I placed a hand on his back and felt some of the tension drain away. He slowly turned to face me and there wasn't just pain and fear in those deep, dark, dangerous black eyes, but a glimmer of hope and something more. Passion was burning there, just below the surface. He groaned and rolled his shoulders back before closing the distance between us. We had kissed before, and each time had been heated and needy. But this time there was fire between us, desperation laced with lust and possibly even love. His lips were soft but they moved against mine fiercely. He tasted of sweet tears and angry smiles, and he made my insides quake. I ran my hands under his shredded shirt, scraping my nails against his solid hard chest. He tangled one of his hands in my hair and backed me against the van. The kiss slowed and finally we broke apart, all swollen lips and gasps for air. There was more than sheer lust between us. The air was charged and electricity seemed to buzz where our skin connected. We remained pressed together, chests heaving. I still had my hands on his muscular stomach and his were pressed into my hair, holding me close.

"If this is the end I'm glad I had the chance to do that without feeling guilty," he finally said and I couldn't help but smile at his words. I removed my hands from beneath his clothes and placed them on his cheeks instead. He didn't kiss me again; instead he wrapped me up in his arms, my head pressed into his collar bone.

"Matt's outside. Let's go," I sighed, taking his hand and leading him towards the stubborn door I had come through. We passed the coffin and I couldn't resist a peek inside. All that remained was the charred ashes of what used to be Klaus.

The dark row of storage units seemed safer with Damon beside me. We made it into the cool night air and I saw the lights of Matt's old blue truck. From what I could see, he had his head back and his mouth open in min-snore. I grinned and knocked on the passenger's window. With a jolt, Matt sprung forwards and stared through the glass. Fear flashed in his tired eyes before he realised it was just me and then he flicked the locks on the doors and I climbed inside before turning to face Damon.

"I think you should just come with us," I told him.

"Stefan's car…"

"Can be picked up tomorrow," I cut him short, shaking my head.

"Elena…" he said, his voice low in warning.

"I don't want to leave you. Not now," I whispered, taking his face in my hands, hoping he saw the desperation in my eyes. Groaning he signalled for me to move along into the middle seat and I did, making room for Damon. Matt leaned across me to my surprise and grabbed Damon roughly by the shoulder. I held my breath and Damon stared at the other boy. He was midway between shutting the door, and he froze in his movement, unsure at how Matt would react.

"It's good to see you Damon," he said.