Hey guys! Sorry that I haven't updated recently, but I've really been focusing on my new story The Song That Calls Me Home.

However, I still plan on updating this regularly, whenever I can, and I hope you all enjoy!


Takes place in When Life Got Crazy.

Damon's POV of the beach scene, where he kicked Richard's ass for trying to rape Elena.

Enjoy!


Damon pulled back into the beach's parking lot, Blondie right behind him.
Her car had overheated, but some quick work and a gallon jug of water had gotten everything sorted, for now at least.

He'd give her his mechanic's number later, just to be sure.

Right now, he planned on enjoying the rest of this sunny day with the woman he loved.

Getting out of the Camaro, he took note of Klaus hurrying toward him.
He shut the driver's door, walking over to meet the guy.

"Bad news, mate," he started, his tone serious.
"What's the matter?" Damon insisted, panic filling him at the man's graved expression.

"You need to come with me," he insisted.
Caroline had joined them now, "What's going on?"

"Damon," Klaus held his gaze, "It's Elena."
That was all it took for him to fall into hurried steps behind the guy.

"What about her?"
"Some guy tried to drag her off."

Damon grabbed his shoulder, halting him, "What?"
"Some older guy…it seemed like she knew him. He had a hold of her. They were fighting. Mason went to check it out, but the guy started dragging her back behind the dunes over there."

"Then why the fuck didn't you go stop him?!" Damon demanded, moving in the direction Klaus had pointed.
"Mason followed them. So did Kol and Stefan," Klaus defended, just as the Salvatore in question ran up to them.

"Stefan," Damon called, "What the hell's going on?"

"Elena's mom wasn't alone today," his brother started, "Apparently her sleaze boyfriend tagged along, and recognized Elena. He threatened her Mom, to make her go with him, and it seemed like he may have gotten a little too hands on."

Damon's eyes flashed, "Meaning?"
"Not exactly sure," Stefan admitted, "That's just what she told us, and she seemed a little shaken up."

Fury twisted Damon's stomach, "I'm going to kill him."

"I think Mason already tried," Stefan had to hurry to keep up with his brother, Klaus and Caroline even further behind, "Kol and I had to pull the two apart."
"Is the boyfriend still with them?"
Stefan nodded, "Yeah."

Damon increased his pace, yet again, and could soon see the others in the distance in front of him.

Mason and Kol had hold of the man, who was on his knees in front of them. Elena stood to the side, her arms crossed over herself.
Damon focused on the man on the ground, a livid hatred making him see red.

This must be the same guy who had tried to force Elena the night she'd come to live with him.
He remembered how shaken and upset she was. So vulnerable and alone.
His heart had ached a little for her, even then.
And now, this son of a bitch thought he could just show up and do the same thing?

Fuck that.
Elena was his. And no one was ever going to put a hand on her against her will.
Not if he didn't want said hands removed from his body, which Damon had half the mind to do.

The blood dripping from the man's nose did little for his mercy.

Finally he reached them, and caught a slight piece of Elena's relieved, and slightly nervous look, as she whispered his name.
But he was more concerned with zeroing in on her offender, and didn't even stop before walking forward and bringing the man's head to his knee.
A groan escaped the guy's lips.

"Let him go," he stated firmly, meeting Mason and Kol's gazes.
They did as he said, probably knowing better than to question him at the moment.

Damon waited, as the man staggered to his feet, a whining, "The hell?" leaving his mouth, as his hand lifted to his nose, which was running with blood now.
Only being able to see what the man had wanted to do to Elena, Damon grabbed him, leading him by his hair as his fist came into contact with his face.

Admittedly, it felt pretty satisfying.

From his knees, the man sputtered, "Look Man, I'm sorry, I was just messin'."
This however, only pissed Damon off more.
Just messing? Please.

He forced the scum's head down, so he was facing the ground.
A growl came with his words, "You're not sorry yet."

He brought his knee up into the man's stomach, resulting in a cry out, and his falling to the ground.
Damon took half a second to enjoy the sight, before moving on top of the man.
He brought his fist down, landing another blow on his face.

This piece of shit was going to hurt Elena.
He deserved a hell of a lot worse than a bloodied nose.

He placed his arm on the guy's neck, the pressure cutting off some of the oxygen flow, while holding him in place.

Images of Elena, scared and cowering filled his mind.
He hit the man again.

The love of his life….his beautiful, sweet girlfriend had almost been raped by this asshole.
Twice.
He had to make sure he got his point across.

He drove his fist down. Once, then twice more.
He loved the whimpering that escaped the man's throat, and pressed down even harder with his arm.
Fuck this guy. He deserved death!

Damon let the images fuel his rage.
You mess with Elena, you mess with him.

And this fucker clearly didn't get the message. But after today, he would think twice before even thinking of Elena, he'd make sure of it.
He brought his fist up, landing this punch right on the man's eye.

Memories of his past surfaced as well.
The senseless beatings his father had succumbed him to.

He'd hated it so much, at the time.
Today, he found himself almost grateful, for each night he'd laid in pain had been a lesson…the teachings his father hadn't meant to give him.

He hit the guy again, and it still didn't seem like enough.
No amount of pain he could inflict on the guy would be enough to erase what could have happened.

He saw a new image.

Elena screaming, as the son of a bitch under him forced himself inside of her, ripping away her innocence.
Hell, she'd been a virgin back then.

Bile rose in his throat, as he thought about this monster taking something so precious from her.
Of that being her first experience with a lover.
Red colored his vision.

Elena was too good, too precious for that.
She had given him her heart, and had trusted him to protect her.

So that's what he'd do.
Protect her…even if it meant killing this filth.

He raised his arm again, this new found purpose making it the best hit yet.

Vaguely, he became aware of Elena's voice, "Damon, Enough!"
She sounded scared, still, but he couldn't stop.

Not until this asshole was no longer breathing.
He hit him again.

Then as he lifted his arm once more, a smaller pair of hands enclosed around it, drawing his attention.

"Stop," she commanded firmly.

He took a breath, before lifting his gaze to hers.
Surely she wasn't defending this douche, "He deserves it."

Her eyes went from widened nerves to reassuring calm, "I know, baby. But that's enough."
Her gaze fell down to the man's face, and Damon's followed.

The guy was a bloodied heap, his eyes swollen, lips bused, nose probably broken.
There was hardly an area of skin that wasn't red.

Everything in him was encouraging him to finish this, to make sure the guy would never hurt anyone, but Elena was right.
And he didn't want to scare her any more than he probably already had.

With a sigh, he nodded, then narrowed his eyes at the man beneath him.

"She just saved your fucking life," he growled, "You piece of shit. Thank whatever God you believe in that you didn't get the chance to touch her."
His rage doubled at just the thought, "I'd have killed you. In the slowest, most painful way I know. Now, you aren't going to come near her again, or even she won't be able to stop me from skinning you alive."

The man grew angry, and spewed a "Fuck you," out with blood dribbling down his chin.

Damon raised a brow.
Clearly his message had gotten lost in translation.

He moved his hand to the guy's throat again, stilling him, while placing another on his forehead.
He remembered when his father had done the same to him, and smirked at the pain he remembered it had caused.
He pressed the tip of his thumb down, into the corner of the man's eye, bringing forward a delicious cry of pain from him.

A scream of agony that he could relate to perfectly.
Still, though, he wasn't done.

Maneuvering his body so that his knee pressed into the man's privates, he hissed at him, "Now, I guess I didn't make myself clear enough. You are not going to so much as think about her again, got it?"

A pained groan was all that answered.
"Can't hear you," Damon taunted, adding pressure on the man's neck.

"Okay," he sputtered out, just as Damon dug his thumb in deeper, causing a new pool of blood to form there.

"Damon," Elena's voice cut through to him.
But he was nearly finished.
As soon as he got what he wanted, "Now, apologize to her," he commanded.

He drove his knee down harder, and the filths lame "I'm sorry" was hardly heard.
But still, it served his point.

Damon smirked, removing his thumb, "Good."

Then one more time, for extra measure, he landed a blow on the guy's broken face.
As he gasped in pain, Damon moved to crouch down next to him, disgust layering his words.

"You're a fucking animal," he stated coldly.
However the man was no match for the beast that he knew laid inside himself, "But so am I. She's mine. And you tried to hurt her."
A growl escaped his lips, "Pray that you get this lucky next time.

With that he stood.


He suddenly became aware that all of his house mates were surrounding him, their faces all layered with some level of shock.

"What?" he demanded, and they seemed to unfreeze, avoiding his gaze.
Finally, Mason cleared his throat, "What are we going to do with him?"

Damon threw a look at the pathetic mess at his feet, "Leave him. Maybe a bird will eat his eyes out."
One could only hope.

Stefan spoke up then, tossing an arm around Caroline, who seemed a little stunned still, "So are we going swimming or what?"
Damon appreciated his brother's obvious attempt at declaring the whole thing over.

The group liked this idea, and Mason nodded, "Let's go."
Blondie tossed Elena a look, before agreeing, "Yeah…let's go."

They slowly made their way back toward the beach, Damon throwing once last glance at the man, before shaking his head, and following behind them.
He noticed Elena was trailing too, and that she seemed distant.
Hell, he'd probably freaked her out.

Either that or pissed her off, since he seemed pretty good at doing that to.
Though he couldn't be sorry, he didn't want her shutting down from him.

Speeding up his steps, he made a grab for her arm, "Wait."
She turned, meeting his gaze.

He exhaled, "I'm not going to apologize for wanting to kill him."
There, he had to get that out.

She surprised him though, when a gentle smile graced her lips, "Damon, I'm not mad at you."
She wasn't? "You're not?"

Deliberately, she stepped forward, and her arms wrapped around his waist.
He held her to him as she stated, "No. I'm not. You were defending me, protecting me."
Her breath caught a little, "I just didn't want to see you go too far…you're better than that."

He sighed, letting his lips press against her hair, "I couldn't stop. The thought of what he would have done to you, just made me see red."
She nodded, "I get that. But I don't think he'll be messing with anyone for a while."

Damn right he won't be.
Damon really would kill him before he'd let Elena be threatened.
She meant to much to him, "I love you, Elena."

She smiled against his shoulder, where her head was resting, "I love you, too."
He remembered the flash of her face moments ago, "I'm sorry if I scared you."
He didn't want to make the situation worse for her, ever. But he had just needed to make sure the guy knew that he had been serious.

"You didn't," she assured him, leaning back, "Not really. I mean, I've always known you've had a temper…just, be careful."
He nodded, trying not to smirk at the irony.

Be careful.
Control it.
The very things his father had once whispered to him.

"So how'd you learn to fight like that anyway?"
Her eyes were wide, curious, but he'd really hoped not to have to answer that question, even if it was obvious.
However, there wasn't anything he could deny her.

Dropping his gaze, he sighed, "I've always had that temper. It's why my father was always at my throat; why we never could get along."
"I tried to fight back a few times, which only dug my grave deeper," he shuddered lightly, "Learned that choke hold from him, along with the eye thing. It won't blind you, just hurts like hell. Then, when I left, I learned everything I could. Just in case he tried to stop me when I went back for Stefan."

He had prepared himself well, but luckily, that hadn't ended up being a problem.
Stefan had been able to sneak out, and their father hadn't bothered to come looking.

Elena's eyebrows pulled together, and he could almost see the pity and sorrow in those brown orbs.
Damn.
He hated telling her things like this for that specific reason.

She felt everything so deeply, that she hurt for his pain, and she didn't deserve that.

"I'm sorry that you had to go through that," she whispered.

He couldn't stop himself from tensing at her words.
She had no reason to be sorry. It wasn't her fault.
She was the fucking angel that actually gave his life purpose.

And he wasn't about to dive into the blackness of his past to stain her with it.
"Yeah, so not going there."

He stepped away from her a little, trying not to let the disappointment on her face affect him.
She was too compassionate for her own good.

What she needed was to relax and have fun, and that, at least, he could give her.

"Come on," he placed a hand on the small of her back, "We should join the others."

She merely sighed, but nodded.
He was content with that, pulling her body against his own as they began to walk.

He'd make it up to her later.


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