Of course, there were no loopholes in the army for amnesiacs. After an hour of Branson- whom Damon finally learned her first name was Lexi –on the phone with multiple people, it turned out to be semi-wasted. He was instructed by his higher up to go through with the weekend like he would normally. He was to do drills, be evaluated, the whole nine yards. But with the evaluation, explain to the doctor his status. Pull records, whatever he needed. But if it worked, he could probably either go home or go back to basic training, depending on the doctor's opinion. So now he was sitting in an exam hall waiting for the on-base practitioner to "decide" if he was well enough to fight. Damon wasn't ashamed to fight, but he was fucked up enough to know that he didn't want to go back. Not now, at least.

"Damon Salvatore," he heard a voice say almost like a greeting. A white-coated man turned the corner, a chart his in his hand. It was rather thick, Damon thought as he took in what seemed to mock a novel. The doctor flipped through it as he sat on the stool across from Damon, who was pacing the room.

"Long time no see."

"Sure." It was all Damon knew to say back. He had no fucking idea who this man was.

"How's about that leg? Still working alright?" Obviously he was supposed to know who he was. He must be his regular doctor. Or something. Maybe that could help him out.

"The leg is minimal compared to others," Damon grumbled.

"Have you been to a doctor outside of base?" He wasn't sure if he was ignoring him or continuing the conversation with that sentence.

"Yes. I was in the hospital for...a while." The doctor's brow rose and his friendliness quickly faded into a tone of serious.

"Hospital. When?"

"About a month or two ago, I guess. I got ran over by a car. I was in a coma. Amnesia. Fucked up my fucked up leg more. I can't walk without a damn limp anymore." He hissed a little, wringing his hands a little too tightly. He was frustrated. He wanted to go home, really. Be with Elena.

"Calm down, Damon," the guy in white started, "How bad is your amnesia? Why the fuck don't I have the records?" He started flipping through Damon's chart again, but no. He hadn't received that lovely bit of information. Damon could tell he was irritated by it. As he should be.

"I don't remember enlisting in the military, if that gives you any hint," Damon growled some, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't remember basic training, the war I was in. That's just the tip of the iceberg."

"You don't remember /anything?/"

"No, damn it. I don't remember /anything./ I don't remember the war, I don't remember how the hell I'm supposed to hold an assault rifle. I. Don't. Know." Damon was fuming. He didn't know how he was supposed to prove it to the government he was honest about this. And frankly he was panicking.

"Where're your records? I have to have records stating your medical status before I can really say you're unfit."

"I—I don't know. Insurance- that's all the government. You're all the government. Don't you talk?" The doctor coughed a little, an amused smile on his face.

"You really don't remember, do you? I'll put this in to someone to see what we're supposed to do, Damon. It's the weekend, but I'll have it in front of someone Monday morning. I am requesting you don't do drills because of that leg. Do you want some pills for that?" Damon shook his head. None of that. He didn't want to fall prey to a popping addiction. He could deal. He dreaded telling Elena. She'd worry; He didn't want her to.

"Chances that they'll let me out of this are high, right?" The doctor nodded, shrugged.

"Pretty. I'd say upper nineties. Sending you over there is like dropping you in a mine field. I'll call as soon as I know something."

"Thanks, Doc," Damon nodded. Nineties. That's a good chance.

"But, until we hear anything, you're marked down to go. They'll have to process you, mark your records, all that before it's official. And until they say you're discharged, you're an active member. You don't show up to duty, they'll come after you." Damon sat a moment, processing those words.

"Are you saying that if the government doesn't get my paperwork done before this unit leaves, I have to go with them?" The doctor tapped his pen almost ruefully before he finally looked up to Damon again.

"Yeah. I'm afraid so."

–

"Tell me, Caroline," Elena demanded with a laugh, setting the plates on the table. She'd changed the cloth, the centerpiece, and set a bottle of beer Damon loved to splurge on occasionally there in place of his drinking glass. "You have to. Friends tell friends these things." On the other end of the line, Caroline snorted.

"Are you kidding? I haven't even gotten the test out of the bag yet."

"I thought you were 'just friends' with Tyler anyways."

"Uhm. Well, things happen..." Elena could imagine Caroline looking anywhere but at her, fidgety and antsy.

"Mhm," Elena chuckled, sitting down to wait on the timer to sound off on the stove. The house was filled with the smell of a cooking ham and vegetables on the stove. She was hungry enough to start now, before it was even done. "Well, when you do decide, call me back as soon as it hits the sink." Caroline groaned.

"Elena, what am I going to do? I'm not mom material. And Tyler is a damn drunkard. And a hermit. He's a hermit drunkard, Elena!" Elena had to stifle a little bit of a laugh, but she knew what she meant. The idea was downright terrifying.

"You'll be great. Don't worry. Definitely not until you find out for sure." She could hear the garage door whirring shut and she jumped to her feet.

"Let me know, Care. I've got to go. Damon's here." She swapped off the phone, removing any type of possible distraction from the room. She was brimming with excitement, and she wasn't sure she was going to be able to wait much longer. Finally, he trudged in looking tired and close to zombie status. But when he saw Elena, some of that fell away and was replaced with a smile.

"Hey, babe," he smiled, engulfing her in a hug and giving her a long overdue kiss. "You cooked again? What am I going to do with you?" She laughed, pecking his cheek and going to the stove as the timer sounded.

"How was the weekend?" She handed him a bowl of green beans as she took a plate of the meat to the table. "Did you tell Ric?"

"Who?"
"Ric. The doctor. He was there, right?" She sat at the table, and he could tell she was finicky. Fluttery. She was smiling. Alot. He narrowed her eyes at her as she dished out a portion of food onto his plate.

"Right. /Ric./ Uhm. Yeah, I did, babe."

"What is it?" She looked so happy, he didn't want to kill it with some could-be-good, could-be-bad news.

"Nothing. What did you do while I was gone?" He went for his glass, only to find a beer there instead. He rose a brow. "Beer?" What was with her?

"Damon, I need to tell you something." Elena flattened the napkin in her lap, dancing in her seat, and it wasn't until then he realized she hadn't even made herself a plate.

"Okay. I think."

"I'm not totally sure, but I-" She huffed as she tripped on her words, then just blew it out in a single, pent up breath.

"I'm pregnant." Damon stared at Elena, and a smile started to grow across his face.

"Are you serious?" She started to nod, and he pulled her over to him. He kissed her cheek, chuckling at the idea. Him, a dad.

"I'm going to the doctor to be sure, of course, but I took three tests just to see. They were all positive."

"Elena, this is-"

"I know," she laughed as he planted a kiss on her lips. "Believe me, I know. I'm scheduling an appointment first thing tomorrow. You're going, aren't you?"

"Are you crazy? I wouldn't miss it for the world!" he grinned. A baby. He couldn't believe it. Elena peppered his face in kisses, pausing when she felt his hand rest on her abdomen.

"I'm glad you're going to get this again. /We're/ going to get this again." He stared at her tiny frame, trying to imagine her swollen with their child, but he couldn't remember. And he wondered if he was gone the first time she was pregnant.

"Babe?" she ran her fingers through his hair, and he finally turned his attention to her. She was still smiling, but obviously his had gone. She looked a little concerned. Maybe she should be.

"My platoon is leaving out in two weeks for overseas." She furrowed her brow, confused.

"Why do you look like that? You're not going. Right?"

"I-"

"Damon."

"I don't know yet. The doctor –Ric –is supposed to try and get it situated, but if it's not processed by the time the platoon is slated to leave, I have to go with them." Elena's mouth fell open.

"You can't- you're- You can't go!"

"Elena, calm down. They're going to process it. Ric asked me to be knocked out of drills because of my leg. If he did that, that should tell them enough. It's going to be fine."

"But what if it isn't?"
"Elena-"
"You have /no/ clue what to do over there, Damon. You said it yourself: you don't rememb-" He laid a finger on her lips to quiet her. Her cheeks were hued red with being flustered. And he thought he saw a bit of fear in her eyes. That was exactly why he didn't want to tell her.

"It's going. To be. Okay." She just stared at him like she really didn't want to believe what he'd just said. And knowing what he'd taught her, she probably didn't. "I'll call the base back tomorrow and talk to Ric. I promise, babe." Elena took a deep breath, nodding.

"I just don't want you to get hurt or worse. I've already lost you once, Damon."

"You didn't lose me. I was just- temporarily misplaced." He smirked, trying to lighten the mood. It worked, because a shadow of a smile hit her lips.

"Whatever. It was close enough. You didn't know me from Adam's housecat."

"I do now, though. I learn more everyday."

"Do you?" She looked intrigued. "Like what?" Damon sat back in his chair, like he had to think.

"I've learned that when you get mad, your hips get this little sashay." He started moving his hands side-to-side, biting his lip almost like it was killing him to think about it. Still in his lap, Elena's face flared a little as she laughed.

"I do not 'sashay'." She pulled his hands down.

"No, babe. You /definitely/ sashay." She rolled her brown eyes back in her head with another laugh, this one stifled.
"Okay, sure. Keep going."

"I know that more than anything you have a huge heart. You're loving. Kind. And it radiates off of you like the sun. Anyone that's willing to put up with me, sick me, is an angel in disguise." She smiled.

"I do it because I love you, silly."

"I swear, I'd propose to you again if I hadn't done it already." He chuckled, pushing a lock of chestnut-colored hair from her face. God knows, she was everything he ever wanted. Elena shook her head, only able to respond with a kiss. She had no words, really. Suddenly, Damon pulled away.

"Why don't we?" She looked confused.

"Why don't we what?"

"Get married? We talked about it before. We should go ahead." She blinked.

"Are you serious?"

"Hell yes I am!" Elena was a little struck. She hadn't even thought about it, merely because of the accident. She thought of it as a set back. It didn't bother her. She wasn't going anywhere. But it made a little flutter of excitement start somewhere in her chest. "What do you say, babe? We can pick a date. Go from there."

"You're sure?" Damon laughed.

"Elena, I already asked you. And you've got a binder in your bedside table that's growing." She gently shoved his shoulder, giving him a semi-appalled look.

"You're not supposed to look in there!"
"Well I did and I think it's time you decide between those lace and satin swatches for your dress.," he spoke softly, taking her hand. Elena smiled, a contagious one. He raised an expectant brow, grinning back. He wanted this, and he knew she did too. If not more than him.

"So? Is that smile a yes?" She began to nod, brown curls bouncing as she did.

"Yes. Yes yes yes. I'm /so/ ready to be your wife." Damon pulled Elena closer to him, kissing her again but with that grin still on his face.

"Well then you better call Caroline, babe."

Their conversation had kicked Elena's planning back into gear. She'd almost completely stopped once the accident happened, focusing all her time on Damon and work. She hadn't even thought about the binder that, like Damon noted, was almost no longer closing it was so filled with magazines, fabric swatches, color palettes, and invitation samples. But not only that, now she found herself saving colors for a nursery and scribbling down names she might share with Damon. Her life was expanding again, and this time it was doubly. Her first appointment was scheduled, but extended a while because her doctor was gone to the tropics for vacation. Typical. She hadn't yet told anyone but Caroline, but that was because she wanted to be sure. And if anything, she wanted to share all of the news at once with their friends and family. She wasn't against doing it now, but Damon had made her promise. Just until after the appointment, then they'd tell them. Though Bonnie was the exception to that promise. It resulted in hugs and happy tears, and of course the swear that she'd not tell anyone.

"Hey, Damon," Elena started as she flipped through an album on her phone. It was filled with flowers, shoes, dresses, and decorations. "I don't think I want a big to do."

"I thought that was supposed to be every girl's dream: a big blowout wedding," he answered, flipping out the light in the bathroom as he came to bed.

"It is. But then you find who you love, and it doesn't really matter that much anymore."

"Listen, babe. I think you deserve whatever you want. If you want to rent a church, say so. If you want to call the JP, we can do that too." Elena laughed.

"I do want /something./ It's an important day. And I want all our family there. And friends, too. I was thinking...what about we have it at Bonnie's?"

"Bonnie's? Really?"

"Yes, really. She has a gorgeous backyard. And there's plenty of space. It's where we met. I think it'd be sentimental for us to have it there." His lips quirked at the edges, amused.

"I love your mind, babe. But you think Bonnie would be okay with that?"

"I'm going to ask her at dinner, but I'm sure she'll say yes." Elena was beaming with excitement over her idea, and she flipped through her notebook, checking off a list. She started in on ideas for the yard, but she may as well been prattling to herself. Beside her, Damon was involved with his phone, and she was beginning to eye him with a bit of annoyance.

"Are you okay?" His gaze darted up to her, and he quickly nodded.
"Fine. Why?"

"You never pay attention to your texts. What's so important over there?"

"Nothing." He made it a point to drop his cell on the end table, though he didn't look too happy about it. "Just playing with it. Haven't really paid much attention, but these things are crazy smart." Elena suspiciously flipped a page in her book, turning back to it.

"Hm. Okay, then." Damon didn't return to it after that and instead flipped out his light. He leaned over her shoulder, kissing her cheek as he peeked at the book in her lap. It was spread open to a page that was displaying an array of dresses. Some were scratched out with pen, written on as 'too long', 'too fluffy', or 'wrong cut', whatever the hell that meant. She had one she'd dogeared and left unscathed of critical marks that the others had befallen, and he couldn't help but ask.

"Is that your dress?" It was one of those asymmetrical ones, but that was all he got before she closed the book. She'd obviously not thought he was looking.

"I think it's time for bed, babe," she smiled in a secretive way, shoving the poor thing back into its resting place. He laughed lowly, sinking back into the pillows as she curled into his side.

"You're sure all this isn't too fast for you, Damon?" Elena started. "I mean, considering the accident?"

"What? No. I don't have all the pieces, but I have enough, Lena. I know where I was going."

"It's not like starting all over?"

"Some of it. Alot of it, really. But I'm okay. I'm just...falling back into the flow. I'm a few years behind, but I learn fast." She laughed a little.

"I'm just following your lead on all this. I don't want to drag you out of your comfort zone with anything."

"So the baby was in my comfort zone?" he poked, almost snorting a laugh.

"You're an awesome daddy, Damon."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. And you're really good at making a fussy baby un-fussy. /Really/ good." She laughed softly, and he realized she was part-way in a daydream of a memory.

"Taking your word for it, because that's all I've got." Elena smiled at that, threading her fingers through his as a bit of silence filled the room. "You'll see I'm right," she finally replied, but when she looked up to him, he was out. Sound, the sight made her just a little more tired herself. She'd been so excited learning about the baby she had hardly slept. And now, it was catching up with her. Just as she began to close her eyes, the ceiling lit up. Damon's phone on the table beside him was buzzing soundlessly, but Damon was so asleep he couldn't hear it. Her eyes danced between it and Damon, wondering if he would wake if she reached across to grab it. Then it buzzed again, this time a text. She thought about leaving it, but part of her worried that it could be about Mary. She gracefully swept it off the table's surface, Damon not even budging as she settled back into the bed with it. The messages, though, weren't from Stefan or that retirement home up North. It was from Ric. Opening the message, she felt her heart sink a new level as she read each word from the tiny screen in her hands:

Not processed. Deployment Friday AM. Sorry, Damon.