Disclaimer: Once again, I'll remind you that I don't own The Vampire Diaries.

Chapter 2- Failure After Failure

Elena sighed as she answered the phone. She never seemed to catch a break. Every time she was about to do something that had been hard to decide, something interrupted her. But Stefan had also been working in researching a cure, so she knew she had to answer.

"Yes, Stefan?" She asked as she brought her phone to her ear, hoping that he would tell her the good news she had been waiting to hear all day.

"I can't find anything, Elena! There isn't one mention to a cure in any of the books!" Stefan exclaimed, and Elena could almost see tears running down his cheeks. "May I... May I speak to him?"

Elena nodded, forgetting that Stefan wasn't there to see her nod. Her mind was elsewhere, considering the possibility that maybe there wasn't a cure, that Damon was just going to die, to leave her. There was no way she would be able to survive if something like that were to happen. She thought she'd have eternity, or at least her whole life, to be with Damon, to figure out her feelings, but all of a sudden, she found out that she might only have a few hours. It was quite a shock, and Elena wasn't taking it well. She didn't want to take it well. She didn't want any of that to happen, she didn't want to have to worry about anything even remotely related to Damon dying, but she knew she didn't have an option. It wasn't like she could forbid him from dying. If she could, she'd have done it a long time before.

"Elena?" Stefan's worried voice came from the cellphone she was still holding. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure, you can speak to him." Elena handed the phone to Damon, watching as his fingers carefully wrapped around the phone, noticing how the movement was carefully calculated instead of instinctive like the usual. He really was getting weaker.

Damon brought the phone to his ear with much more care than he usually would. He could feel his hand almost dropping it, but he hid that from Elena. He didn't want her to know just how weak he was getting. He knew she was freaking out, and he didn't want her to be too scared. He wasn't letting almost any of the pain show, but the weakness of his body was harder to hide.

"Damon?" Stefan's voice called. "How are you?"

To Stefan, Damon could tell how he was. The problem was that Elena was still there, and she didn't seem like she was leaving. Taking the phone away from his ear, Damon looked up at Elena, who was staring back at him with a worried look.

"Elena..." He began, wondering how he could phrase his request in a way that didn't seem like he didn't appreciate all what she had done for him since she'd found out about his werewolf bite. "I wanted to speak to Stefan alone."

With a short nod, she got up and, glancing hesitantly at Damon, Elena left the room. The bedroom seemed very empty without her there, but Damon knew that it was better for her not to know how bad he really was. She was already suffering thinking that she had more time with him than she really did. If he was to tell her that she had even less, she'd freak out.

"Not good, Stefan." He replied when he thought Elena was out of earshot. "It's getting worse fast. I don't know for how long I can pretend, but I can't let Elena know... She'd freak out, Stefan. She's already freaking out. She's hiding it, but I can tell."

"I'm going over there." Stefan said, and Damon could hear the sound of the library floorboards creaking as he moved.

"Stefan, no!" Damon tried to exclaim, but ended up having a coughing fit.

"You're not going to go through this alone, Damon. I have all the books I'm going to need here, so staying with you isn't going to be a problem." Stefan wasn't going to change his mind, Damon knew that.

"Just make sure you don't let Elena know why you're here. Make up an excuse, anything, just don't tell her the truth." Damon sounded so worried that even he found his voice strange. Even his acting was getting sloppier, he noticed, which meant it was only a matter of time before Elena could see straight through his facade.

"Don't worry, Damon. I'll see you in a few minutes." And with that, Stefan hung up, leaving Damon alone in the other side of the line. He didn't want to be cared for, he didn't want Stefan to see him so weak, so fragile, so breakable. But he was the only one who he would only let in, besides Elena, who he just didn't want to further scare.

Elena knew that Damon was keeping something from her, but she wasn't going to question him, not when he was so sick. She wanted to hide behind the door and overhear his conversation with Stefan, but she wouldn't do that. If Damon didn't want her to know something, she'd respect that. If the worst was to happen, she didn't want him to be mad at her.

With a sigh, she opened the book that she had carried downstairs, trying to take her mind off whatever Damon was hiding from her. But once again, she just couldn't concentrate. Her mind wasn't even worried about what Damon was hiding from her anymore. She was just scared that she would lose him. She wanted to curl up on the couch and cry, but she knew she had to be braver than that. Damon wouldn't be able to be brave enough for both of them forever, she needed to start to keep herself calm and focused.

A tear escaped her eye and she quickly wiped it away. How did Damon do it? Elena couldn't understand. He was the one who was on his deathbed, and he was being so brave, he was even comforting her. And she, who was perfectly healthy, was falling apart. He didn't seem like he was afraid.

The doorbell rang, taking her out of her thoughts. Maybe someone had found something. She could only hope. She knew that Damon was really weak, and she knew that it was only a matter of time before the hallucinations started. After that, it was a long and painful journey towards death.

Getting up in a hurry, Elena ran to the door. She was rather surprised to see Stefan. He'd told her that he was going to do some research at the library and probably wouldn't be there until the final moments. Was Damon on his final moments? The mere possibility made her want to run upstairs and stay in his room until he died. She didn't want to miss it, she didn't want him to die alone.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, not noticing how rude she sounded until the words left her mouth. "I mean, you told me that you wouldn't come until Damon was in his final moments."

The milliseconds that Stefan took to answer her question seemed like years. Elena was terrified that his answer would be something along the lines of 'and he is'. She knew it wasn't possible, as he hadn't yet begun to hallucinate, but she was scared nonetheless. She cared about him too much to keep herself rational.

"I changed my mind. I don't want to be so far away from him. I spent a long part of my life trying to despise him, and I have a lot to make up to him. I thought that being here would be a start." Stefan answered, glancing anxiously up the stairs. "I hope that's okay."

"Come on in. Does that mean that there's really no way?" Elena asked, holding back the tears that were almost running down her face. She wanted to hug Stefan and cry until she didn't have any more tears to shed, but she had promised herself she would be brave.

"I don't know, Elena." Stefan shook his head, sighing. Elena knew that Stefan was trying to hide how truly sad he was, but she could see straight through his act. She'd spent too long with him for him to be able to hide his emotions from her.

"He's in his room." She replied, blinking rapidly to keep her tears from rolling down her cheek.

Stefan climbed up the stairs, afraid of what he would see. He knew that Damon still wasn't as bad as he would soon be, but for his brother to be complaining about not being well, he had to be in a bad shape.

All too soon, he found himself in front of Damon's room. He had to go in, he had to comfort his brother. He wanted to, he wanted to be there for him, because though Damon had spent most of his vampire life torturing him, he had still been there when Stefan needed him to be. It was time to return the favor.

"Damon?" Stefan called as he knocked on the door, his voice just slightly higher than a whisper.