Title: Scarred and Bleeding
Summary: Damon and Elena are FBI agents who don't really get along well; after she gets injured during an assignment, things start to change.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made from this work.
A/N: Sorry for the delay! I went to Upfronts this past Thursday and finally got to see Nina in person! I was so wound up from that and THE AMAZING FINALE that there was no way I could update until now. So happy for Damon/Elena and for Jeremy to be back (so sad about Ric being alone on the other side), and finally Stefan for getting a decent storyline! This whole Silas "shadow self" business should be interesting. Right along with Human!Kat! OMG.
Anyways... Enjoy the update! xx
Grief. Guilt. Pain.
Damon had felt every emotion running through him before; felt it worse than he did now, but that didn't stop the frenzied need he had to get to her. Fear over the worse filled him up in the worse way. What if his last moment with her would be one of anger? What if he never got to see those beautiful brown eyes hidden between narrowed lids as she glared at him and told him what an ass he was? What if she was killed because of his own stubbornness?
Speeding down the empty streets he raced to the hospital. He needed to know she was okay. He needed to apologize for every stupid thing he had ever said or did since meeting her. He had to finally let her in on the one part of himself he kept hidden from everyone. His hypocrisy couldn't keep them apart much longer. How could he demand openness from her when he had his own demons locked up? How could he let it get this far when they worked a job that could get them shot at any moment?
Gilbert was shot.
The dispatcher had no idea the wounding blow he would lay into Damon by just stating those words. They replayed in his head over and over until only the worst case scenarios took over his mind. Could she really be dead? He cursed that damn rule that said condition of victims had to be classified. He cursed that he had to wait until he walked into that haunting hospital before finding out if she was okay.
When he finally pulled up to the offensive building, he didn't even bother correcting his parking job. He pulled into the space at an angle and hopped out before the engine had time to idle. His heart was racing at an inhuman speed and a part of him wondered if he could possibly be having the beginning stages of a heart attack. Couldn't pick a better place to have one.
He quickly found a nurse and practically demanded to know where Elena Gilbert was being kept. The nurse fumbled with her papers, only infuriating him and testing his patience. Finally, she typed away at her computer as Damon tapped impatiently at her desk. She read out the room number and he didn't even wait long enough to thank her before taking the first available elevator.
When it arrived at Elena's floor, Damon's guilt hit him with full-force. The eerie silence and darkened hallways conjured up images that nearly crumpled him. His eyes searched for her room as his ears picked up ever groan of pain and cough that echoed along the hospital corridors. The room appeared and he let himself take in a breath before rushing in and letting his eyes take her in for the first time since he heard the news.
Elena was hooked up to various machines and the sound of a heart monitor echoed in the nearly silent room. The only other sounds were Damon's footsteps as he walked towards her side and Elena's steady breathing as she mumbled in sleep. Her arms and face were covered in bruises and cuts graced her olive skin showing just how much of a danger she had been in. He cursed himself for putting her in that position where she had no one to rely on except a SWAT team she didn't really know. She was leading a raid that she was not familiar with and his anger had put her in this bed.
She groaned in sleep and her eyes opened wearily. Her body shifted and he saw her face wince in pain. Damon instantly reached out in an attempt to do anything to help. He eased her shoulders back down so she was lying on her back and he brushed away a stray piece of hair that had fallen across her face. Elena's eyes began to flutter close as she whispered, "Damon?"
Damon found himself smirking; not his usually one full of mirth, but one that held a hidden sadness for seeing her this way. He was smiling for her, in a fool-hearted attempt to make her feel better. Her eyes closed shut as he smoothed back her hair and he let sleep take her. The room once again was taken by her gentle sounds.
His eyes began to drift from her face, searching her body for the bullet wound. Some of his guilt and worry had been relieved when she had breathed his name, but it wouldn't be gone until he knew the full extent of her injuries. He could see nothing from what was visible and a blanket was covering the rest of her body from beneath her breast and downward.
Just as he was about to lift the sheet and begin an inspection he heard a cough from behind him. Damon turned abruptly and met the accusing eyes of his best friend and mentor. He could only hang his head in shame as set the sheet back down and followed Alaric out of the room.
"Little late, aren't you, Salvatore?" Ric questioned. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was now leaning against the wall across from Elena's room. There were bags under his eyes and his hair was in utter disarray. His clothing was unkempt and he reeked of alcohol.
Damon slowly brought his fist against the wall. "I just heard."
"Better late than never."
"What happened?" Damon questioned, finally having the nerve to meet Ric's eyes.
Ric sighed and slumped against the floor. Damon followed suit and four sets of eyes stayed trained on where Elena slept. "Everything was going according to plan—minus one agent." He sigh-eyed Damon. "They had cleared the first two floors when Elena okay'd the team to head up to the third floor. She had entered a room we believe to belong to the unnamed sister when Klaus and his cronies came out of nowhere. They must've been waiting for her. The agents say Klaus was intent on killing her. He was relentless. Intel thinks he may have heard Elena was the one to shoot Kol earlier. How he found out is beyond me. If the second wave of agents hadn't come in we could've lost her for good." Ric paused to rub at his eyes. "Klaus, Elijah, Finn, Sage and the lot of them got out somehow. The whole thing was a bust."
Damon swallowed a lump in his throat and reached his arms out on his knees, hanging his head once again. He couldn't fight the guilt this time, couldn't hide the shame. It crushed him and it wasn't until he felt Ric's hand on his shoulder that he resurfaced.
"She's going to make it. She's a warrior that one."
A smile lifted one side of his mouth. "Yeah, she is. She's a fighter." His face fell. "Where did she…?"
"Get shot?" Ric frowned. "Her abdomen and leg. She'll have to stay off her leg for a few weeks while it heals. We're talking bed rest and lots of down time. She's going to hate it."
Damon let out a short laugh. "I can definitely picture that."
There was a brief moment of silence as the two men were lost in their own thoughts. Ric was the first to break it. "Look, I know I'm giving you a hard time for abandoning her because you damn well deserve it." He stared at him, pointedly. Damon nodded. "But… the outcome would've been the same. Only maybe you would've found yourself a room, too."
"If I was there she wouldn't be in here at all. Except maybe to mourn over me."
Ric shook his head. "You weren't Klaus' target. She was." He sighed. "Or is for that matter."
"She's going to need security," Damon pointed out. "If the Mikaelson's are out for blood they'll find a way to get to her."
"I know. I've already made arrangements for Jeremy and Elena to move in to my place. They'll be safe there."
"What about Jenna and Lily? Do you really want to put them in danger? Maybe my place would be better." Damon was already working out the details. He certainly had the space and the protection. No one could get in or out of that place without the proper codes and clearances. It was practically a Fort Knox. She would have everything at her disposal and this way the rest of her family could stay safe.
Alaric scoffed. "It was Jen's idea. This is family, Damon. We protect or own. I appreciate the offer though."
"It still stands," Damon stated; making sure Ric could see his sincerity.
"I know, Damon. You're family, too."
Damon began to speak but was cut off by Elena's shrill screams in the other room.
"Mom! Dad! No! No! This is all my fault! No!"
"Damon?"
Damon jumped out of his seat. "What's wrong? Is everything okay? Do you need anything? Anything hurt? Should I get a doctor? Nurse!"
"Sh!" Elena groaned, causing him to relax. "I just need my water on the night stand. It hurts when I reach."
"Oh," Damon breathed in relief. He reached out and handed it to her, making sure the straw was positioned right by her chapped lips. "Sorry about that."
"It's my fault. You were sleeping. I startled you."
He was already shaking his head. "No, no. Don't apologize, Elena."
Elena gave a small smile before taking a sip of her water. She winced a little with each suck before finally handing him back the cup and relaxing in her bed. Her eyes closed as she released a breath, her hands stretching out in front of her. Damon could only watch her, appraising her for any sign that she was in more pain than she was letting on. She was a stubborn little thing…
Damon had the perfect idea for today—if she was up for it. He was nervous as Hell to show her this side of himself but he knew it was something that needed to be done. Damon had to show Elena that he understood her need to keep her privacy. He dealt with that very issue himself. They both had their walls up and maybe this little look into his life would help chip away a little at hers and help them get back to that understanding they reached a few weeks prior. He had to make up for all the wrong he had done to her.
When she finally opened her eyes, her lip was pulled between her teeth. They both went to speak at the same time.
"Damon, I want to apolog—"
"Are you up for—"
They both laughed. Elena finally said, "You first."
"If you're up for a little wheelchair ride, I want to show you something."
Damon wheeled her into the room he had visited a thousand times. He stared ahead the tubes and wires, heard the heart monitor and respirator; yet he felt a million miles away. Every time he was in the room it brought him back to the memory that put this man here. As he looked down at Elena, dressed in a similar gown to the man lying on the bed and bandaged just as he was, his heart grew weary. She looked concerned for this unknown man, her compassion seeping through those doe eyes of hers. Elena didn't know this man; didn't know the relationship he had to Damon or why Damon had brought her here and yet she cared.
He would've cried if he had any tears left.
"Elena," Damon began, pausing just long enough for her to meet his eyes, "this is my brother Stefan."