Damon didn't bother putting the bourbon back in the cabinet. It was pointless.
He poured and drank, poured and drank. He wandered aimlessly, restlessly through the large common area of the boarding house until he finally came to rest, leaning against the large fireplace, arm raised above his head. He leaned his head against his arm and held the glass of bourbon to his forehead, as if the liqueur had the magical ability to cool down his raging emotions.
He stared into the fire place at the ashes of what were once his brother's journals. He should have swept them up and tossed them out, but he couldn't do it. If he did that, then there would be nothing left of his brother in the house.
He wondered for the thousandth time what was happening. Elena had turned to him in the last days of the fight between the Originals. They had never been so close and open with each other. After Stefan had walked out she had slept over most nights; slept with him.
He thought back to when things first started to minutely change. It had been the night she had rushed over to the Gilbert house. She came home preoccupied that night, telling him only that she had talked to Caroline. Things had gone downhill with them since then.
It wasn't that she was any less loving when they were together. She still spontaneously wrapped her arms around him and kissed him lovingly. They still made passionate love when she slept over. It was that she spent less time with him. After the Stefan fiasco she had spent every night with him. She was now down to two nights a week. He unashamedly spied on her. She spent time with her brother, Matt, and Bonnie. She started to participate in school activities, and he had watched her through the window as she did her homework. Matt had escorted her to football games, and she sometimes met him at the grill after school for a snack. Matt had more free time now that he had quit working at the grill, and he spent most of it with trio that had survived the Originals.
He gave a sad little laugh. He realized she was doing things an eighteen year old human girl would do.
Damon was desperate. All the people he had connected with, forged bonds of friendship with, were gone. There was no Alaric and no Liz to talk things out with. He couldn't admit to himself that he might have actually driven his brother away for good. The thought terrified him, and he refused to consider it. He hid the suspicion away in a corner of his mind and stomped on it if it tried to come out. He used the mantra - I'll think about it later.
The only thing that was keeping him sane was Elena. He loved her – loved her with all his heart. He loved her smile, the kindness in her big brown eyes. He loved her when she was mischievous – she had lost that for a while when things had gotten so terrifyingly bad, but it had gradually come back. He loved when she wanted to make love. He knew he excited and pleased her, and that made their time together the most rewarding experience since he had been human and head over heels in love with Katherine.
He couldn't lose her. He couldn't survive without her.
He would not lose her.
