"Didn't you mention that you had some things to say?" Elena pulls the blanket more snuggly around her.

"I did," he affirms. The muscles in his jaw tick and she suspects that he's choosing his words carefully. He picks up his wine glass and empties it.

The corners of her mouth lift, even Damon needs a little liquid courage sometimes.

He swallows and then blows out a breath. "When I saw you walking up the path to the house, I thought I was going to have a coronary. I was furious that you had found me and at the same time so damn happy to see you I was pretty sure something was going to burst in my brain."

"Okay..." she says slowly trying to process his contradictory words.

Damon shifts in his chair. "At first, there wasn't a single day that I didn't want to go back, show up at your door and take you in my arms." He takes a breath and is silent for a beat, looking at his hands that are knotted in his lap.

"Damon?" Elena finds herself blinking a lot and sucks in a breath herself.

"I stuck it out, bought this little piece of land, built my home and started over," he sighs and looks up to join their eyes. "I blamed myself for a long time, not a day goes by that I don't think 'what if', what if I had a better hold on her, what if the line hadn't failed..."

"Damon."

"No, let me finish, I didn't blame you for not wanting to see me, I still don't but you have to know how that felt. Ric couldn't have been more obvious in his disdain and then you didn't want to see me either. It hurt like a son of a bitch, Elena. That kind of pain isn't like a cut or a bruise, it's like a spider web, intricate, yet strong and lasting..."

"Damon, I'm so..."

"Don't, he raises his palm to shush her. "I knew that in time it would eventually ease up and for the most part it has. I have a life here, this place isn't much but it's mine. With each year that passes, I become more convinced that it was the right decision, the only one that I could make given the circumstances. I have everything I need, and I take care of myself..."

His admission isn't a surprise but the words cut deep nonetheless. "What do you do?" she changes the topic, understanding the veiled meaning.

"I bartend at Enzo's once in a while, I chop wood and sell it among other things, I get by," he refills his glass and pops the cork back in the bottle.

She finds herself staring at his beautiful face. Damon has the most wonderful eyes – they are blue, mostly, but darken to grey in correspondence to his mood. He seldom smiles with his lips, but it is his eyes that shine instead. Shaking herself out of it, she grabs his glass and drinks what's left in it.

"I'm just happy to know you're alive..." Suddenly feeling incredibly fatigued, she stands up to stretch. Turning away from him she moves to open the door. An icy blast of wind nearly knocks her over. Fog has moved in, looming as far as she can see, it's almost tangible, shrouding everything in a thick white veil, his outside light barely managing to penetrate the haze.

She spins around to the warmth of the fire and sucks in a breath to find Damon gone. Moments later though, he steps through a door.

"I got the bed ready for you. You can sleep in one of my tee shirts unless you have something in your purse?" he arches an eyebrow at her.

"I don't as a habit keep a nightgown in my bag... I do have a suitcase in my car," she covers her mouth as another yawn escapes.

"Well, I can bundle up and go get if you'd like or you can use a shirt."

"Don't bother, I'll wear the tee."

Damon nods and leads her into his room. She looks around, it's a simple décor. A king sized log bed, a dresser, beside stand and a decent sized television. He pulls a tee shirt out of his drawer and lays it on the mattress.

"The bathroom is across the hall if you need it."

"Goodnight Damon," she sets her purse down on the dresser.

"Night," he backs out of the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

Picking up the shirt, she presses it to her nostrils, breathing in his uniquely Damon scent. Sighing, she undresses, slips the tee on and crawls under the covers... although her mind is buzzing, her body is simply too fatigued, allowing sleep to come quickly.


Tiredness swallows Damon whole. Sleep comes over him like cruel shattering waves, more vivid than ever before. The intensity of his exhaustion has created a perfect canvas for the nightmare that's always the same, dropping him back into his own personal version of hell.

Elena's too scared to move, her other arm flails helplessly in the air. Their grip slides to wrist level and keeps slipping. Damon's hand digs into her climbing glove and holds. His face is a mask of strained concentration as he tries to grab the main line while maintaining his grip on her. Finally he snags it but he can't stabilize them with the next full swing. Exhausted himself, he tries to keep the panic out of his voice. "Do it! Reach up, Elena, please grab the line."

Elena's eyes lock onto his with an expression of unabashed terror as her hand slides out of her glove. She falls - her eyes still locked on Damon who looks down, swaying helplessly on the wire as she screams.

Falling.

Falling.

Falling - looking very small against the vast mountain range. The safety harness spirals down after her like a carefree bird. Her scream echoes through the canyons - fainter, fainter and then deafening silence.

His eyes snap open in terror. An invisible hand clasps over his mouth, an equally ghostly hypodermic of adrenaline pierces his heart, unloading in an instant. His ribs heave as if bound by ropes, straining to inflate his lungs. His head is a carousel of fears spinning out of control, each one pushing his mind into blackness... creeping blackness...

Sweat beads on his forehead and his breath comes in harsh gasps as he lurches upright and throws his feet on the floor. Dropping his face in his hands, he tries to get his panic attack under control. He attempts to stand but teeters and he has to grab onto the arm of the couch to steady himself.

Shaking himself out of it, he walks into the kitchen to reach for the bourbon he keeps in the cupboard. Pouring a generous amount, he leans back against the countertop and throws it back, grimacing at the burn. As soon as he can breathe normally, he puts the bottle away and goes back to the couch to lay down. He closes his eyes and shifts onto his side, bringing his legs up in a fetal position all but certain that sleep will prove elusive on this night.


Rolling over in bed, Elena slowly opens her eyes. It takes her a minute to get her bearings, still astounded by the unlikelihood of yesterday and finding Damon again. A part of her always wanted to believe their paths were destined to cross again one day but as the years passed, she began to lose hope. If she hadn't stopped in that bar and seen his picture... Sometimes life really does work in mysterious ways. Shifting onto her back, she stares at the ceiling for a few moments. She can't help but wonder if he's had a serious relationship at some point...

Sighing, she sits up on edge of the bedside, her feet touching the cold, smooth wooden floor. The air is thick with the scent of coffee and burning wood from the fireplace. Her eyes scan his bedroom again. There's a large window with heavy curtains. The morning sun is streaming through the slight gap in them. Only now does she catch a glimpse of a picture frame sitting on top of the dresser. She stands to pick it up. It's a selfie of the two of them laying in the grass. She feels a slight catch in her chest then runs a fingertip wispily across his handsome face.

The meadow is on a gentle slope and interspersed with western white and lodgepole pine trees. The wild flowers are a cacophony of color, purple Calypso orchids, blue cornflowers, orange daylilies and tall asters with their yellow centers. There is no coordination, just a free-for-all choreographed by the wind. Elena's laying with her head on his chest, her fingernail running circles over it. She smiles when she feels him kiss the crown of her head.

"I love you, Elena," he whispers, his eyes dropping to meet hers.

"I love you too," she raises up on her elbow and captures his lips in a searing kiss, one that makes her toes curl.

Hearing a rap on the bedroom door, she takes a breath, snapping out of the memory. "Breakfast is ready," comes from the other side of it.

"I'll be out shortly, I just have to get dressed," she sets the picture down. She tries not to think about the leaving part as she goes into the bathroom to shower and dress...


"Smells good," Elena remarks when she joins him in the kitchen.

"I seem to remember you liking pancakes," he sets a plate in front of her.

"I definitely do," she picks up the syrup, drenches them and after taking a long swallow of coffee, she sticks a big bite of the blueberry goodness into her mouth. "So good," she mumbles, savoring the deliciousness.

Damon fights the urge to smile as he watches her devour her breakfast.

"The forecast looks good all the way to Colorado," Damon mentions, offering her a coffee refill.

"No thanks, I need to get on the road," she takes her last bite and gets up, setting her dishes in the sink. Elena looks at him for a long moment before walking out to put on her coat and grab her bag. His stomach turns a little at the thought of letting her go again but this is his life now.

When she reappears, he follows her outside to her car. After throwing her purse inside, she turns around to face him. Time slows once more, as if her brain needs a mental keepsake to give her strength. Then, a bird sings, bringing her back into this moment. She sucks her lower lip between her teeth for a second, her eyes never deviating from his. "Would you consider coming home with me? It doesn't have to be permanent."

He looks aside, his jaw locked and she knows she won't be able to persuade him. There's nothing she can say or do today to ease his burden.

"Goodbye Damon," she takes his hand, giving it a squeeze. "Thank you for letting me stay," she lets go, gets into the car and starts the engine. His blue eyes never drift from her form. Rolling down the window, she looks up. "I'm really happy I got to see you. Take care of yourself okay?"

Damon nods, "Drive carefully."

"I will." Elena forces a smile, rolls up the window and drives away.

Damon watches till the car is no longer visible. Watching her leave feels like a dagger being driven in all over again. Heartache is like the music of a great orchestra. At times it's quiet and allows him to function, at other times the violins play and he feels sad. Sometimes it rises to a crescendo and anger bursts from his chest in a vicious shout. But right now, a trumpet is playing the sad and lonely notes of 'Taps'.

Now that he's seen her again, he can't escape the familiar ache that's bubbling up inside him like a geyser about to erupt. Shaking his head, he sucks in a breath of the brisk air, turns around and slowly walks back into his house.


Pushing the door closed, Damon refills his cup of coffee and goes into the living room. He sits down in his rocker and stares into the flames...

Dusk brings such a silence that the crackle of their campfire is all that can be heard, like a crazy kind of natural music. The flames lick at the wood and the red sparks dance in the cool breeze. Damon sits close to the mossy log, his face toasty warm. Elena's snuggled in under his arm, mesmerized and relaxed.

As night falls the blue haze of day lifts to reveal the stars. Just gazing at the midnight blue canvass above steals every thought from his mind, the usual carousel of worries simply forgotten. The moon, swinging low in the heavens, casts long, deep shadows far down the trail.

It's a pretty night," Elena mentions, her palm resting protectively on his belly.

"It pales in comparison to the light I have in my arms," he looks down at her, drops a kiss to her forehead and pulls her closer. He never wants to let her go.

Shaking himself out of it, he empties his cup and looks around at his meager existence. The sun streams through the windows, yet his mind is clouded with grey. Yesterday had been so unexpected but he can't deny how good it felt to see her again, to just be in the same room with her. He's tried to move on, there have been random dates, one night stands, he even tried dating once, that lasted all of about six weeks. His heart isn't his to give to anyone else, truth is, she owns it...

"Damon, Elena's going to be our new chopper pilot," Mikael introduces her.

"Hello Elena," he shakes her hand vigorously.

Her eyes dart to Mikael who's waiting to take her up in the helicopter. "Yeah, I should probably go. It's nice meeting you again, Damon."

"My thoughts exactly," he gives her a nod and watches as she and Mikael walk away.

His mood ricochets somewhere between low and lower. The painful memories, they're the same as nightmares, only they don't vanish when he's awake. Lonely was once an abstract idea, an affliction of the old. He had Elena and she had him, life, love and the hereafter. They were supposed to marry, have a family, grow old together but life has a cruel way of disrupting even the best laid plans.

First is the shock - denial, anger, despair... It takes so long to arrive at acceptance, the final stage the counselors long to scrawl into their notes. It isn't much of a destination though. It's an empty train station, no people, no trains, nowhere to go. It's hearing and seeing with none of it mattering. It's the world carrying on with business as usual, but for him it can never be the same again. Without sharing the love he'll always feel for her, it deflates. leave a gaping bloody hole in his chest...


It's around noon on Friday when she finally gets home. The drive from Coeur d'Alene to Estes Park is a thousand miles. She stayed in a little town in northern Wyoming last night and got up very early to finish the sixteen hour drive. Although she's tired, she doesn't regret staying an extra night in Idaho with him. "Damon," she says aloud although no one is there to hear her. Setting her suitcase down, she goes into the kitchen and pulls out a bottle of Starbucks cold brew.

She ambles into her living room, plops down on the couch, kicks her shoes off and spreads her legs out on the coffee table. After taking a long swallow, she pulls her phone out of her pocket to text Jeremy, letting him know she got home safely. If she had seen phone laying around at Damon's house, she would've called her phone with it so she'd have his number if nothing more than to have some sort of connection to him. Laying her head back, she closes her eyes just to rest a few minutes...

The doorbell rings again. It is tinny and grating. It demands that she get up and go to the door. Sighing, she sits up and brushes her hair off of her face. Then it rings non-stop. Someone wants her attention pretty bad. Whoever it is puts their thumb on the button without releasing it at all and in her fury she lollops to the door and flings it wide ready to shout.

"Elijah? What's with the incessant banging and bell ringing?" she puts her hand on her hip, glaring at him.

"You were supposed to be home yesterday? I was worried about you," he walks in and pushes the door shut.

"What!? So I'm on a time table now?"

"No of course not but it's a long drive, Elena. I don't know, I was concerned."

Her anger fades as quickly as it came. "Thank you. You're a good friend. "Want some coffee?"

"Sure," Elijah follows her into the kitchen and considers her demeanor. Elena's being quiet. Too quiet. Usually she fills the void with insane stories about her time in the military, or with multiple sarcastic comments about anything and everything, but not now. She isn't talking at all and the silence is starting to get to him. He's always got a chuckle out of her smart mouth and he misses it.

"You okay, Elena?" he reaches across the space between them and takes her hand in his. She turns her head and meets his gaze. Her big brown eyes are filled with something he hasn't seen for a very long time.

"I should be asking you that," she murmurs and squeezes his fingers gently with hers.

"I'm fine." The response is one he'd been automatically giving since the day his dad died and while most people take it at face value, Elena isn't most people. Elijah sighs heavily. Reaching over, he tilts her chin up. "Elena, we've known each other for a long time. I know when something is on your mind. You ought to know by now that you can talk to me."

"This will take alcohol," she admits and reaches into the cupboard for the bottle of Jack Daniels. Grabbing two shot glasses, she tilts her head, gesturing for him to sit. After pouring each of them a glass, she raises hers, clinking it with his. "Cheers." They swallow them down Elena then refills them, and sets the bottle down.

"You're never going to believe it but I actually ran into Damon," she watches as surprise and shock wash over his face.

"After all this time? My God, Elena," he throws his back and pours himself another.

"He has a cabin in the Idaho wilderness, not far from Coeur d'Alene. I was on my way home, stopped in a pub to get something to eat and there on the wall was his picture. I nearly lost my lunch."

"I can't believe it," he shakes his head.

"He's living like Grizzly Adams, full beard, long hair, he's gained 20 pounds of muscle. I spent the night with him," she raises her palm when Elijah mouth drops. "I didn't sleep with him, he slept on the couch. He didn't want me driving at night." Elena reaches for the bottle and fills her glass again.

"He's still living with it, Elijah, and it's my fault, I knew he did everything humanly possible short of dying himself to save Jenna but I still shut him out. He deserved better from me."

"Yes, he did but Elena, he'd never hold that against you."

"I know that. I just wish I could turn back the clock." She rakes her hand through her hair.

"We all do, Elena. We all do," Elijah lays his hand on top of hers. He happens to catch the wall clock and sighs, screwing the lid back on the Jack Daniels. "I have to get home, I promised my mom I'd stay at the house tonight."

"I understand," Elena gets up and follows him to the foyer.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asks, his hand on the doorknob.

"I have to be," she acknowledges. "Give Esther a hug for me."

"I will. I'll see you in the morning."

"You will." She walks him to his car, waving when he drives away. She stares at the road for a few moments then slowly walks up the sidewalk and into her quiet house, reminding her once again how empty it is without him in it.


Elena is dressed in a square-necked, knee length dress and sleeves reaching just below the elbows. She pairs with a black belt around her waist, black pumps and a wristlet to carry her driver's license and some cash. She trots up the stone steps and into the church, walking all the way up front to pay her respects to Mikael as his body lays in repose near the altar. As if sensing her approach, Elijah looks over his shoulder and nods at her, silently mouthing "Thank you."

She nods and after placing her hand on the casket, she takes a seat in one of the pews and looks around, observing all the people who are there to pay their respects to a great man. To her left are Ric and Jo. He raises two fingers and salutes her, acknowledging her presence. Elena shakes her head, ever since he found out she served in the Navy, he insists on doing that. Lizzie and Josie are nowhere to be seen so she suspects they must have a babysitter.

The organ music starts to play and the guests stand up as the celebrant makes his way down the aisle to the front of the church. The funeral service has only just started when Elena notices a swath of sunlight suddenly appear and then slowly disappear. Looking over her shoulder, her brain stutters for a moment, desperately scrambling to distinguish if it's real or a hallucination. Then every part of her goes on pause while her thoughts catch up.

Her face is stuck in an incredulous expression, her eyes an unblinking stare as they meet his, their blue hue the envy of any summer sky. Then he's sitting beside her. She can't will her lips to move, it's as if she's stuck underwater, everything is slow and warbles as he reaches across her knees for a hymnal. There's an inkling of wistfulness and still his eyes shine.

Unable to mask the shock, she wants to say something, and searches her mind for it... only one word manages to escape.

"Damon..."


Thanks to all of you. Sometimes it's hard to find words to truly express how much your support and friendships means to both of us. You're all truly wonderful people.

Thank you Eva. Love you.

Chapter title: 'Chasin' the Wind' by Chicago.

We hope you all have a safe and wonderful day.