N: As I promised, frequent updates…here's the next chapter. Not much to say but, enjoy!

Thank you Dez2sweet, for beta-ing this for me and so fast!

Balance

Damon Salvatore stood by the dirty window of his hotel room. It seemed the managers of this particular hotel thought that if it's cold outside, the windows don't need cleaning anymore. He turned around as soon as he heard the door open

"I called the room half an hour ago. Where have you been?"

"Down at the bar," Damon answered. "I had a beer, the Spurs are playing."

"Oh, I forgot. Who's wining?"

Damon shrugged. "Where's Dad?"

"He's picking up a pizza. You hungry?"

"I guess…I haven't really thought about it."

"Damon, if you're not taking care of yourself, how are you going to take care of Katherine and Anna? You look like shit."

"Thanks."

"I mean it."

"I know you do," Damon said trying to put more enthusiasm than he really had in his voice. "You never had tact, that's why I'm a politician and you're not."

"Elijah doesn't want you to use the word 'politician' remember?"

"What does he know…?"

"He's your campaign manager. It's his job to know these things."

"You don't give up do you?"

"Never," the other man answered, smiling softly.

"I told Katherine about her face you know…"

"And…how did she react?"

"How the hell do I know?" Damon muttered. "I can only see her one, unwrapped eye. Tears were pouring out of the corner of her eye, so I know she was crying. Knowing Katherine, she was probably hysterical…"

"It's understandable. It's not every day someone survives a plane crash."

"Damn rain," Giuseppe cursed under his breath as he entered the tiny room. He shook his umbrella and placed it in the corner before walking towards the round table to place the square box of pizza.

"Smells great, dad," Damon murmured. He walked over and took a beer out of the small fridge. "Beer or something else?" he asked his father.

"With pizza, beer."

"Stefan?"

"Beer."

"How are things at the hospital?" Giuseppe asked.

"He told Katherine about her injuries," Stefan answered in his brother's place.

"Oh…are you sure it was the right thing to do?"

"No…but if I were her, I would've wanted to know what the hell is going on with me."

"Fair enough. How's your mother?"

"Still with Anna. I told her I'll stay the night, but she didn't let me. She said she got used to it."

"She probably just took a look at you and realized you need some sleep," Stefan commented and Giuseppe gave him a sharp stare.

"I told you, you have no tact." Damon said with a smirk.

"No, but he has a point. When is the last time you had a good sleep?"

"I'm fine, dad."

"You don't look fine."

"I'm thinking about waiting another six years to run for office…" Damon said casually.

"Don't you quit on me brother," Stefan shouted.

"You can't make decisions like that overnight, son," Giuseppe offered. "You worked hard for this."

"We all did," Stefan added.

"I know, but with everything going on with Katherine and Annabelle. I won't have the time. I can't be in two places at once dad."

"Katherine doesn't deserve this kind of consideration from you," Stefan said.

"She is my wife!" Damon snapped.

"Of course you must be there for your family, Damon, but I'm pretty sure Katherine herself would push you to go on and run this year. Remember, she has always supported this."

"If you think about it, this can work in our advantage, it will create free publicity," Stefan said.

"Did you talk with Elijah, because he said the same thing when we spoke over the phone a few minutes ago?"

"Elijah wants to see Damon Salvatore become the next United States senator, just like the rest of us."

"Ok then, but you have to understand my priority is my family. I will need your full support."

"You'll always have our support Damon," Giuseppe said staunchly.

"Good. I will try not to neglect the campaign, but I'm only one person."

"We'll make it up for it. What did you talk with Elijah about?"

"He wanted me to give a speech to a high school in the valley. I declined."

"Why?"

"The children don't vote."

"But the parents do."

"I know, but as I weigh my priorities, it is just not important enough. I'm sorry dad."

"You're right."

Damon knew his father was only humoring him, but as long as he won the argument, he did not care. He was too tired to bring himself to care. He saw them both out a few minutes later.

"If it's ok with you, I'll go home tomorrow, you can call if you need anything," Stefan said.

"Sure. How are things at home?" Damon asked,

"Okay."

"Really?" Giuseppe raised an eyebrow at his son. "It didn't't look like that last time I was there. Things have come to a sad pass because you don't exercise more influence on your family. Or you for that matter," he said pointing at his elder son. "You both let your wives do as they damn well please. You should see that Caroline gets the help she needs before it's too late, Stefan."

"After the elections," he mumbled. "Give Katherine my regards, Damon, Caroline's and Rebecca's as well."

"I will; thank you."

After they both left, Damon crashed on the small couch, too exhausted to walk into the bedroom. The memory of the day of the accident washed his mind.

He drove Katherine to the airport. They've been fighting. They didn't even kiss goodbye.

They had another argument at the restaurant. It was still early when they got there, so they decided to eat before boarding, since there was no meal included. Anna managed to get some ice-cream on her dress and Katherine got hysterical.

"For Crist's sake, Katherine, I can't even see the spot."

"Well, I can." She shouted.

"Then don't look!"

Katherine shot her husband one of those ice cold 'drop dead' looks that no longer affected him, before taking off towards the terminal. Damon took his daughter's hand, telling her about the nice things she'll see in Dallas before kneeling for a hug.

"Would you bring me a present?" he asked.

"Can I mommy?" the little girl asked looking at her mother.

"Sure."

"Sure," the child repeated.

"Good, I can't wait," Damon said placing another kiss on her soft cheek. "See you in three days." He said looking at Katherine.

"Don't be late picking us up. You know how I hate waiting," was all she said before grabbing Anna's hand and walking away without a second glance towards Damon.

***lucky 13***

"Grayson, got a minute?" the young assistant asked.

"What is it?"

"Well, it's about victim 68. The dental record…something's not right."

Grayson took a pile of papers from his desk and looked through them before speaking.

"Elena Gilbert, she didn't have any living relatives or close friends. An old family friend came in this morning and IDed her."

"Yes, but the records…"

"Look, John," the supervisor said raising his hands. "I have damn bodies with no heads, heads with no bodies, if someone's already been IDed and autopsied, don't bother me with the damn records, ok?"

"Fine…and in the meantime, fuck you."

"Sure, as long as I get to identify the rest of these corpses."

***lucky 13***

Even the weather seemed to mourn, Elena Gilbert's death. It was dark and clouded. A dense rain was pouring. Alaric Saltzman didn't have an umbrella, but he didn't seem to care. Truth being told, he was half drunk and crying like a baby. Elena Gilbert had not only been his employee, she had also been the daughter of his best friend. She had loved her as his own daughter and took care of her after Isobel passed away, eight years ago.

"Wanna go get drunk at some random bar where no one knows us?" Jeremy asked.

Jeremy Lovejoy was his youngest photographer in his staff, at age 28. The kid was extremely talented, but a pain at socialising. He was known to smoke pot…and he always smelled like it. He was rude with just about anyone he met…except Elena. No one could actually be rude to Elena Gilbert.

"Everyone knows me, wherever I go," Alaric mumbled.

"I know a place."

"Ok, I'm in."

Half an hour later, they were both entering a dirty pub. They were checking you for guns at the entrance. If you didn't have one, they would give you one.

Jeremy ordered a bottle of cheap whiskey and two shot glasses.

"Maybe I should eat something first," Alaric murmured looking at his glass. He was already tipsy and he hadn't eaten anything but half an apple all day.

"The owner's wife cooks sometimes, I can ask her to make you an omelette."

"Do you eat here often?" Alaric asked.

"A few times a week," Jeremy answered.

"I'll miss her so damn much…" Alaric said and decided he needed a drink more than an omelette. He drank the shot in one gulp and wiped the tears off his cold face.

"Yeah, I'll miss her too. She was nice," Jeremy agreed.

"I raised her you know, ever since Isobel died," he sighed. "I loved her…her mother."

"Did you ever tell her?"

"No, but she was a smart kid, I'm sure she knew. John was never home and he asked me to look out for them. I loved my friend, but he didn't deserve her."

"Hm…" was all Jeremy found fit to say.

"Did you ever have to identify a body, Jer?" the younger man shook his head.

"It was horrible…I never thought I would say this, but I'm glad Isobel wasn't alive to see this. No mother should see their child like that. She had no hair…no face…no teeth. If she wouldn't have been holding her mother's necklace in her tangled hand, I wouldn't have recognised her." He took a deep breath. "Hell, I'm going to miss her so bad."

N: Waiting for your amazing reviews on how you liked this chapter.