Bad Blood – Chapter Ten

Again, everyone who reviews...big love :) I kind of want to get this story done now because I've started another AU one...but thank you for reading!

Doesn't everyone just love Season 4? That blood-sharing scene... :)

-Damon's POV-

A loud buzzing woke interrupted my much needed sleep and I groaned, opening one eye to look at the clock. Ten o'clock…no…I was not going anywhere. I hadn't slept in too long. I let the ringing stop, letting out a thankful sigh and relaxing back into the pillow again; the pillow that smelt so perfectly of Elena Gilbert. But my peace only lasted a couple of seconds before off went my phone and my pager. I wasn't even working!

Growling in anger and cursing at whoever was about to receive my exhausted wrath, I sat up and grabbed the offending machinery, flipping it open and putting it to my ear, answering with a straight forward "What?"

I vaguely recognized Jane Clarke's voice on the end of the line; the head nurse at the hospital and kind of a mother figure for all of us…weird that, "You need to come to the hospital. Elena just had a seizure…she's going into surgery."

I think the only words that functioned in my sleep dowsed brain was 'Elena', 'seizure' and 'surgery' before the phone was abandoned and I was moving. I somehow managed to get on my trousers, threw on a black shirt and some shoes before running full pelt out the door, completely forgetting about keys or locking up or the fact that I hadn't hung up the phone. It didn't matter, Elena was going into surgery. She'd had a seizure…

The lift didn't come fast enough, I took the stairs and somehow managed to not fall with all the momentum behind me. Barrelling out into the parking lot underneath the building, I didn't spare a thought to the fact that I was in no fit state to drive. It did not matter; I needed to get to the hospital. And I was there in ten minutes, undoubtedly getting caught on at least five speed cameras on the way.

I stormed into the hospital, looking for someone…anyone. I spotted Clarke by the nurses' station and grabbed her shoulders, "Where is she?"

She blinked, momentarily shocked that she was getting manhandled by a seemingly drunk man, then she realised who I was, "Get off me Damon Salvatore. And I'm not telling you anything until you calm the hell down." Woman she did not want to do that right now.

"Jane, where is Elena?"

"So what? You can march into the OR while she's being operated on? No way, calm down and I'll tell you."

I glared at her, letting go and running my hand through my hair, tugging on it before taking a deep breath, "I'm calm. See…totally calm. Please…I'm begging you…tell me where she is."

It shocked her to see me this low…I was Damon Salvatore…I cared about nothing…and I was begging, "OR Two." I was running again before she could blink, "Don't you dare go into that room Damon Salvatore." She yelled after me but it went right in one ear and out the other.

I didn't go into the studio…even in this state I knew that would do more harm than good. But it didn't stop me going to the viewing gallery located to one side, barely acknowledging the other people there as I stopped against the glass, losing my breath for a moment as I took in the sight before me. There she was…but I could barely see her for all the people in green scrubs and aprons and masks around her. I could see the tube in her mouth but Chambers blocked the rest of her face. Not from the screen though…I could see exactly what he was doing from the television screens at each end of the table for all the surgeons to see. My heart was beating too fast and I was out of breath for the running, panic overriding any rational thought and for a moment I realised just how right she was. I could never have done the surgery.

"Damon-"I didn't look away but recognized the voice as my brothers…what the hell was my brother doing here? "Damon look at me."

I managed to drag my gaze away for a second, "What are you doing here?" I didn't really care to know right now, it was just the first thing to spring to mind.

"I was here for work…Jenna called to say she was here so I was visiting just as they were taking her in." His explanation fell on deaf ears; my attention was drawn back to the silent scene in front of me. I wish I could hear what they were saying…why did these rooms have to be soundproofed? My hands pressed against the glass, sending silent prayers up that Chambers wouldn't choose this time to fuck up. "Damon she'll be okay…she's always okay."

My jaw clenched but I said nothing, staring at the screen where Chambers was slowly and carefully cutting a tumour out of my girlfriends brain…but she was much more than that wasn't she. No matter how cautious he was being, it didn't look like enough and I don't know if I could watch. He was one of my closet friends here, Jack…but this was a job I didn't trust him with…I didn't trust anyone with.

I turned, unable to watch anymore and stared at the wall behind, vaguely acknowledging the presence of almost all my interns on my way out into the hallway. Why the hell were they here? Oh yes…intern's loved watching surgery'…but shouldn't they be working? Who cared? Why was I even thinking about that right now?

"I didn't wish her luck." I said suddenly as Stefan emerged, looking at me in question, "We had an argument because she didn't want me in the OR…she was going to tell Blake not to let me in…which she did. But I didn't say goodbye or anything…I just stormed out. I thought she'd be okay and I'd see her in the morning but-"

"Damon shut up." My little brother said suddenly, "Stop talking like she's going to die, she's not. You are going to see her in the morning and it's not going to be on a slab in the morgue." I don't know if it was the words or the image that did it but my legs gave out at that and I collapsed, finding myself sitting back against the wall, my head in my hands and I felt my sight blur. No…no I would not cry…not in the hospital. "Shit, sorry Damon…I didn't mean it like that." How else could he mean it? I knocked my head back against the wall, wincing at the accidental force.

"She said she didn't want me in there in case something happened and I kept telling her nothing would. But what if Jack makes a mistake or-"

"Damon, you're not helping anyone by saying that. He's a good surgeon…this is a straightforward procedure…she is going to be absolutely fine." He insisted, dropping down to sit beside me. I watched the nurses and doctors I vaguely recognized walk past us and give us strange looks but I didn't care. People here never saw me look remotely attached to anything because I wasn't. I didn't get attached to patients…I cared that they got better but I didn't show such emotions…they would never see me cry or the like.

I nodded jerkily, "She better be." He grasped my shoulder in that manly comforting way because even as brothers we didn't do the whole hug thing, "I don't know what I'd do without her." I muttered, picking at a loose thread on my trousers.

"Do you want me to hit you?" Maybe I did? "I think you'd eventually manage…you've lasted the last five years-"

"Do you want me to hit you?" I retorted, very tempted as I stared at him in disbelief, "How can you even say that? I knew she was alive…I knew that eventually she'd forgive me and at least there was a chance of getting back together. If she died-"I cut myself off before my voice could break when I could feel it was on the edge.

He nodded, a guilty look on his face, "I'm not saying it would be okay…I'm just saying that you wouldn't die-"

"I beg to differ."

His eyes widened a little but how could he be surprised?

Neither of us spoke again…I don't know how long for. We just sat there in silence. Jane Clarke appeared with two Styrofoam coffee mugs, setting her hand on my shoulder for a moment before leaving again with a small nod. She always managed to know exactly what we all needed when.

I knew the surgery could take anywhere between 6 and 12 hours so we were in for a long and painful wait. I almost wished I could fall asleep so I didn't have to deal with the nerves but that would risk missing something…I had to be conscious. At around the four hour mark I got up and started pacing, walking around the corridors of this floor and by some strange twist of fate I found myself looking through the window into the room where the new-borns were sleeping in cots. How did I get to the maternity ward? I quickly made my way back, realising how far I'd walked and the fact that I didn't have my phone or pager meant I was completely out of contact. I ran all the way only to find no change.

And that's the way it went for another three hours. I was sat in one of the uncomfortable plastic armchairs randomly places against the wall between two shelves, accidentally having dosed off when I was shaken awake. Jolting up I found Jack Chambers standing above me and instantly frowned; what was he doing here? He was meant to be in surgery…

"Well what are you waiting for?"

-Elena's POV-

There was a loud and constant beeping somewhere to the left of my head. It had been going for longer than I could count and I swear it was not permanently engrained in my brain.

It must have been at least an hour ago that I first tried to open my eyes…which was a spectacular fail. I attempted for what I guessed would be somewhere around tenth time now. Success! Bright white light flooded through the small crack and I blinked, wincing at the pain it caused my sensitive eyes…now this felt like a hangover, what with my head throbbing and all-wait…why was my head throbbing? Do not tell me I'd gone through all that surgery just to have nothing change.

Five minutes later I'd managed to keep my eyes open effortlessly, not focused on pushing myself up into a sitting position. I was back in a different room to before, this time there was a strange grey clip on one of my fingers and I was all plugged into some sort of heart machine, which explained the beeping. Reaching one hand up I found the pressure around my head was down to the bandage tied there, surely an attractive look. The rest of my hair was hanging limply over my shoulders; I needed to get it cut…

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of running footsteps outside before a dishevelled figure crashed into the door frame. I took a moment to figure out who it was, having never seen him in such a state, by which time he was right by the bed grasping my hand in both of his and pressing it to his lips, "Oh my god you scared me so much." He rushed out, leaning down to kiss my cheeks, my nose, my forehead and finally my lips.

I smiled, "You look tired." I pointed out, taking in his black shirt, not tucked in and with the top few buttons undone like he'd got changed in a rush. His raven hair screamed bedhead too but it was a look he could carry…was there a look he couldn't? I'm sure he'd probably still look good dressed in full Lycra or an Elvis impersonator costume.

"Well I was in a bit of a rush to get here." He murmured; still busy looking over me to make sure I was all still there. I'd never seen him so frantic and put one of my hands on his to stop him. He dropped down into the chair strategically placed by the bedside, holding my hand tight. "Are you okay? Feeling okay?"

"A bit of a headache but I'm sure it's just after effects." That didn't help to calm him at all, "Damon relax, everything's okay…" I said quietly in a soothing voice, reaching my other hand to run through his hair, smiling a little at the cashmere feel of it.

He nodded jerkily, slightly leaning into my hand, "I got a call last night saying you'd had a seizure and were going into surgery…I swear I couldn't get here fast enough. But you were already in there and the last thing I'd said to you was that I wouldn't forgive you for some pathetic little thing-"

"Damon! I'm fine, I'm here, you're here and we're both alive...stop freaking out."

He tried to frown but couldn't quite make it, instead dropping his head to kiss my knuckles again and I sighed, leaning back a little and closing my eyes for a moment, "Don't go back to New York." For a moment I thought I imagined it…then I saw him looking at me with an expression of serious pleading…

"Da-"

"Don't go back. Stay here…get a job here."

I sighed again, "Damon I can't do that. You know I can't…my life is in New York." The idea of staying here was heavenly but completely unrealistic. I had a job, a flat and friends there… "Can we not do this now Damon? Give me at least an hour after I wake up…please."

An apologetic look crossed his face and he nodded, "Sorry…but do think about it. I don't want to lose you again."

I didn't expect that and wasn't quite sure what to say, suddenly remembering the awful words I'd said to him the day before, "No...You won't…Damon I'm so sorry about what I said…about making up for what you did…that was low and I'm so sorry."

He shook his head, "No I deserved it. The second I saw you in there I realised how stupid I'd been. I could never be in the room."

"Wait…what do you mean you saw me?"

"There's a viewing gallery in all the OR's…for people to watch. It's usually just inspectors, assessors or interns…occasionally family or friends…I was in there for a bit."

Great…at least someone enjoyed it, "Only a bit?" I questioned with a raised eyebrow, teasing slightly and he nodded.

"Couldn't watch. Everything Jack was doing looked wrong…" I laughed quietly at the lack of faith he had in his friend, "It was right of course…but the way he was whacking that scalpel around-"

"Please…don't; I am a little squeamish." He laughed quietly, giving my hand a gentle squeeze, "So who else watched? I'm guessing it's like live entertainment for you crazy people."

He grinned and nodded, "All my interns…I think they've taken a liking to you. They kept asking about you." I lifted an eyebrow in question, somewhat amused by the idea, "They're under the impression that I am…emotionless…you might say. So they were a little surprised that I displayed some sort of affection towards you. Meaning you managed to prove to them that I'm not a robot."

"You are far from a robot Salvatore." How the hell was he emotionless? I mean sure, he didn't like that many people back in Mystic Falls and High School and he sure didn't come across as the most approachable person…in fact he was probably one of the most feared people in the school, but emotionless? Never.

"I try my best." He disagreed with a smirk, "And that reminds me…Stefan's here. He had some business meeting in LA and Jenna told him you were here or something so..."

"Ooh yay, I get visitors! Where is he?"

He shrugged, "No idea…he said something about arriving just as you were being taken in which was around nine…so he may have gone back to his hotel to sleep for a bit. It's almost six now so he might be back soon." He told me, checking his watch.

My eyes widened a little, although I probably should have realised how long it had been, "Shit, go home! Sleep! Why are you here? You must be exhausted and you've got work tomorrow."

But of course he only rolled his eyes, "Seriously? I'm not going anywhere until you're leaving. And I've got tomorrow off so don't worry."

I shot him a scowl, not understanding why he wouldn't leave…well I did understand, "Damon go home…half a day…sleep. Nothing is going to happen while you're gone and Stefan's here to keep my company. Or I could just make a friend. Besides…they'll probably make me do more tests as soon as they figure out I'm awake."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"I'll kick you out."
"I'd like to see you try. You can't even stand up." Bitch. If I could get all these wires out of me I might have been able to. "I'm going nowhere."

Well he certainly stayed true to his word. He left the room about three times throughout the day to make emergency checks on various other patients and/or tell of his interns. He'd given his keys to Stefan and sent him to get his phone and pager, meaning he was contactable…despite the fact he ignored the less important calls. So we spent more or less the whole day sitting around the room chatting or talking to doctors who were running follow-up tests. A lot of what they said didn't really make sense to me but I understood it as best I could and once they'd left Damon would translate it all for me. I tell you I've never felt like such an idiot.

The next morning (Damon had insisted on sleeping on the chair in the room, saying he'd only come back once I was asleep if he kicked me out) Dr. Chambers came in to talk more about the surgery and recovery. Apparently it had gone well (good to know) and there hadn't been any complications…apart from the seizure that was…but fortunately it hadn't had any great affect. I'd be allowed to leave after about a week, regarding the CT scan came back normal. Although Damon hadn't brought up the 'don't leave' conversation again, it was stuck at the back of my mind and I couldn't help but not want the week to end. As much as I hated the hospital and all…leaving meant going back to New York and I wasn't sure if I wanted to just yet. Well they'd also told me that I wouldn't be allowed on a plane for at least two weeks so it might have to be a road trip for me. Except for the fact that I wasn't allowed to drive either…train?

Another thing they told me not to use was a phone…which was really useful. So instead Damon brought me his laptop (he's amazing) and allowed me full control. So the days, or nights, he was working and I wasn't busy sleeping, talking to nurses, or having (more) tests, I'd be on Skype or Facebook talking to my people. I called Mick (video off) to tell him what was happening and he said he'd give me a month off, but if I could make it and I was well enough it'd be nice to see me at the gala (with a boyfriend). Then there was Jenna, Ric, Jeremy, Caroline, Bonnie, Katherine…so many people to talk to but at least it passed the time. I was dying of boredom in this place.

At this moment in time I was calling Jones and after a few rings the screen flickered to life and I saw my trusty PA, hard at work…at my desk. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Damon, in his doctor's coat and all, walking past the doorway and stopping at the nurses' station directly outside, looking through at me. "Hello my sick boss." Jones quipped, giving a mock-salute and clicking the pen shut. "Feeling better?"

I smiled, then noticed something and scowled, "Jones…you're in my office," I said in my 'boss' voice and he winced, looking around as if he'd forgotten. Damon was in the doorway now, watching with an amused expression on his face, "Again, may I add. You're lucky I like you."

"But it's such a nice office…" he said, leaning back in my chair…my chair.

"Hence why it's mine! Did I not buy you a very nice chair?"

He nodded, "You did…but I prefer your office. There's a nice view. And I can relax more." He said, kicking his feet up off onto the desk. Oh no…

"Alex Jones get your feet off my desk right this minute!" I shouted, trying not to laugh as he let out a sigh and dropped them back to the ground, "I'm going to get you back for that when I get home." I muttered, glancing over at Damon as he walked over, "I can give your chair to Martin or someone who'll appreciate it."

"Oh no I do appreciate it! But when you're not here someone has to keep this lovely desk warm." I rolled my eyes, shaking my head, "You didn't answer my question anyway, are you feeling better? When's your surgery?"

Sigh, "Are you blind? Can you not see the massive white bandage wrapped around me head?" His mouth formed an 'o' shape like he hadn't put two and two together, "But yes, much better."

"Well I'm glad. When do you think you'll be back because the Boss-man's giving me filing to do...filing."

I grinned, "Serves you right, cocky bastard." He gave me an unimpressed look and I sighed, turning serious, "Give it a week or so…I'm not allowed on planes or to drive so that limits the ways I can get home. I guess I could take a train…"

"Tell me the earliest you can get out of there and I'll book it." He said eagerly, clearly jumping at the idea of real work.

Laughing quietly, I nodded, "Sure…but I might not go straight away once I'm discharged…" At his questioning expression I explained, "I have a friend here." I looked over the top of the screen at Damon who was standing at the end of the bed, one of those expressions on his face that clearly questioned his title. "Perhaps more than friend." He frowned, not liking that much either.

"No…no, no, don't exploit your time off to hang out with your boyfriend. No…he'll have me sharpening pencils or going on coffee runs for the whole office. Please come home." So that's what he was up to.

"Jheeze you'd think I'd get a little more sympathy. When you get ill I'll make you come to work every day."

He sighed, relenting for this one point, "Fine, you can have a bit. But that reminds me…you do realise Boss still expects to see you at this ridiculous gala thing…seems you have a date now."

Damn…just my luck, "Shit…when is it?"

"Next Friday…"

Why? Was it really necessary for me to be there? To get promotions then yes. "Uh, fine. If I'm back I'll be there."

"It's not like you have to worry about clothes; your friend works at Vogue."

"This is true." I never had to buy dresses for these things thanks to trusty Vera, "Right, well I'll call you later about when I come back…in the meantime reacquaint yourself with your desk or I'll start locking my office…and desk."

"You're no fun Gilbert."

"Goodbye Jones."

I hung up and flipped the screen shut, looking up at Damon with a smile on my face, "Sorry…"

"No problem…who's Jones?"

"Would you believe I have a PA?" He shook his head…well thanks, "He's brilliant. Don't know what I'd do without him."

He nodded, sitting down on the edge of the bed, "What do you have to be back for then?"
I leant back a little, letting out a heavy sigh, "Charity gala…the company do it every year. And every year my boss insists that I go because he wants to meet my boyfriend…except I never had one so it was always a little awkward and I didn't like going…so I didn't. Or else I just took friends."

"Well now you do," He pointed out with a grin, "And if that was your way of inviting me then it would be my pleasure."

"But you can't just leave…you've got work here…-"
"-I'll be there Lena…what kind of boyfriend would I be if I wasn't?"