Consciousness seared through her body. Her first instinct was to open her eyes; to move; to talk but she couldn't. She struggled against the fog crowding her mind. Where was she? Why couldn't she move. She couldn't remember anything. The last thing she remembered was that blue eyes man at the bar. God, he'd been gorgeous. Maybe she'd gotten so wrecked she'd passed out. She felt dizzy and light-headed – the way you get after holding your breath slightly too long or running too fats and not catching your breath. Assuming she'd passed out somewhere she relented in her inward struggle to wake up and she allowed the blackness to consume her.
He waited. And waited. Endless waiting. Nurses came and went. Doctors came and told him to leave. He vehemently refused. No way he was leaving her. He refused to talk to the police until the had evidence to arrest his father. He sighed. He'd been here for the night after the wedding and the following days. The third day after the wedding was ticking closer. With each minute, another part of him chipped away.
He'd been home once, to grab clothes to wear, but only when he desperately needed to. He hadn't even changed out of his tux yet. He must have looked strange. His black tuxedo and white dress shirt with a black skinny tie tied loosely around his neck. His hair was messy as his hands had been run through it several times. His eyes were what gave him the haunted look. They were dark and tired, deep shadows permanently etched onto his skin. He was a mess.
A week had passed since he'd last seen those beautiful brown eyes. He'd struck up an uneasy compromise with the hospital -he would leave every night and sleep at home but he didn't leave until late at night and arrived early the next morning. He barley spoke. He ate. He slept. He waited.
"Damon?" His head snapped round at the sound of his brother's voice. Anger burned through him.
"Is she asleep?" He glared at his brother.
"No. She hasn't woken up yet." His brother's face paled as he glanced at Elena's still frame.
"I went to the police." He stopped talking, he seemed unsure of how to continue "I told them it was Dad's fault."
He stared at his brother in wonder. He'd gone to the police. He couldn't believe his ears.
"He's in custody, facing assault charges." Stefan looked at Elena again. "Will she wake up?"
He didn't answer. Stefan had asked the question he'd been avoiding for days.
"She has to." He gestured at the empty chair beside him, inviting Stefan to sit. He felt his brother's presence and relaxed slightly. "None of her family have been to see her. They couldn't get flights. Bad storm or something." He leaned forward and rubbed his face. "She only has me."
He didn't know why he was confessing to his brother. They'd never been close, except as children. As Stefan had reached adulthood he had grown closer to their father and further away from him.
"You are all she needs , brother, but if that is not enough. She has me too."
He looked at his brother in astonishment, waiting for an explanation.
"I fell for her too. I didn't treat her right, I didn't want to get to close to her after what happened with Lexi- I thought I would be betraying her memory or something, but she was really special."
Lexi had been his brother's best friend for years before they got together. They had been completely in love until Lexi had been killed in a car accident the night Stefan proposed. His brother had lost his way and got into some trouble and he'd had pulled him through and taken the blame.
He'd got into dealing, as way of making easy money and been caught with drugs. He had received a call from his pleasing for help. He'd wordlessly given it. He'd taken the blame without Stefan realising it. He'd insisted the drugs were his and he'd blackmailed Stefan into collecting them.
Luckily, the cops hadn't questioned any further. They had accepted his story and arrested him on charges of dealing and possession of a Class A drug. He'd been willing to do jail time if it meant Stefan would get his life back on track but Giuseppe had caught wind of it and hired a good lawyer to get him off free of charge.
He'd been grateful but in the three years since it had been held over his head, used as leverage for blackmail. He was always threatening to drag up new evidence that would bring the whole story - and Stefan - into question. He couldn't let his baby brother go to jail after everything he'd been through so he'd caved. To every single demand his father made. If it made him weak for defending his only brother he would gladly take that title.
Even after everything he and his brother had been through, Stefan was still here. Still offering silent comfort to him much like he had done all those years ago when Lexi had passed.
"I'm glad you're here, brother."
Consciousness returned once more. This time with more memories. A night on a rooftop with a stranger. A stranger with blue eyes. She'd struggled to piece together the time she had missed but her mind was fog, her body trapped, unable to move.
It frustrated her. How long had she been like this? She didn't know, she felt like she'd simply fallen asleep and woken up in the middle of the night. She fought against the darkness threatening to consume her. She'd pushed back the barriers and fought. Hard.
Her mind focused on small areas of her body. Her fingers, her toes. She pushed every ounce of her strength to open her eyes but they were heavy and her limbs felt like lead.
Her senses were useless. She couldn't hear properly, she couldn't see at all. She could think though and she counted herself lucky she could think within the privacy of her own mind. She could feel the cold sheets beneath her and the occasional pressure on her hand.
The pressure was there right now. She concentrated and used the reserves of her energy to twitch her fingers.
Faint alarms and muffled voices vaguely registered. A soft touch against her forehead and a light pressure on her shoulder. A voice, so quiet she didn't know if it was real.
"Wake up. I need you. I love you."
Who was that? The melodic voice awoke some memory buried deep within her brain. She had to remember.
Her concentration dropped. The blankness creeping up on her. She couldn't fight it. She gave in a succumbed to the darkness.
He had had to practically force his brother out of the door, demanding he get some rest. He slipped silently to the bed where she lay and crouched next to it, holding her hand whispering that he loved her.
If he'd been focused on the machines he would have seen the screen monitoring her heart rate flash insistently. The doctor's didn't believe she was conscious but she was.
A slight twitch of her finger was all he needed. A fire fuelled by hope erupted through him as the machines burst into life.
Doctors ran into the room and nurses dragged him away. He fought with all his might and swooped in to press a kiss to her forehead.
"Wake up. I need you. I love you." He was dragged away without a fight.
He didn't know what they were doing to her but he knew they were different form the police. They would do everything humanly possible to help her.
"Mr Salvatore?" He whipped around to see the senior doctor in charge of Elena. They were so puzzled by her they had assigned more than one doctor to figure out what was wrong.
"Yes?" he breathed, barely hoping to hope.
"We know what caused this." He held his breath and waited for him to continue. "She hit her head, and the injury was bad enough but her unconscious state awoke an underlying lung problem. She wasn't breathing deeply enough and her body shut down."
He froze. He was hoping for good news. This wasn't good news. This was an explanation but he needed more answers.
"Now we know what went wrong we can fix it. Her chances are now incredibly good. We can almost surely say she will wake up."
There was a pause that stretched out after he finished speaking. An unsaid 'but' which was left unspoken.
"But?" The doctor sighed.
"I'm sorry, Mr Salvatore, but although there in no damage to her brain it is likely she will experience memory loss. You must prepare yourself for that."
He sank down into the chair closest to him and buried his face in his hands. They had just met. She didn't remember him. He knew she didn't. Nothing could prepare him for this.
"Damon." He lifted his head to see his mother standing there. "I'm so sorry,"
He said nothing. He should be angry. She had abandoned him after the wedding and they hadn't spoken in weeks, but he wasn't. He stood and wrapped his arms around his mother, burying his face in her neck. He didn't want answers or comfort and he wouldn't get it. His mother was the strong, silent type – a trait that both he and his brother had inherited. None of them wasted breath with useless words of comfort, they were simply there, a constant presence in each other's lives.
"Mr Salvatore?" He whipped around once more, staring hopefully at the doctor who had come to see him.
"She's awake."
