AN: Strangely while in my last note I said this chapter would be shorter…I lied it ended up being longer. Apparently there was more for Damon to say than my mind first thought of. Review to tell me what you think! Review to tell me what you might think will happen when Damon and Mila meet back up in the next chapter (Slow Goodbye by Lesley Roy). Thank you to all my readers who send me such interesting and full reviews as I love being able to reply with some insight!

'Do you remember when we didn't care? We were just two kids that took the moment when it was there. Do you remember you at all? Another heart calls. Yeah, I remember when we stole the night. We'd lie awake but dreaming till the sun would wash the sky just as soon as I see you. I did lie but didn't I tell you? As deep as I need you, you wanna leave it all. What can I do? Say it's true. Oh everything that matters breaks in two. Say it's true, I'll never ask for anyone but you. Talk to me I'm throwing myself in front of you. This could be the last mistake that I would ever wanna do. Yeah all I ever do is give. It's time you see my point of view.'- When Another Heart Calls (All American Rejects)

After leaving the tomb Damon wandered aimlessly through the forest, his mind lost in thoughts of what Katherine had said and his own realization of the reality of them. They were words that deep down he had always known but had been unable—unwilling—to accept. They were thoughts that unsettled him having always preferred to pretend indifference. That was the mask he showed the world; that made him comfortable. Now with Mila's re-entrance into his life keeping that mask was becoming increasingly difficult. It was as easy being around her as it had once been and yet now everything was changed. Now he was too aware.

If what Katherine had said was indeed the truth than that suddenly changed so many things, forcing him to re-evaluate the past—every moment—every action and every thought.

It wasn't his style—the emotional was Stefan's area of expertise. His was ignoring as if it didn't exist. But this time—it was Mila and that he couldn't just ignore. All that he was thinking and feeling sent Damon's mind reeling back through his memories shedding new light on the past.

The ballroom of the Salvatore mansion was packed with people wearing beautiful colored ball gowns and the men in dashing black suites. Damon stood on the outskirts of the party attempting to avoid the herds of chattering females that always seemed to follow him. With moony eyed stares they would chat away thinking themselves clever and charming but in reality they had nothing truly interesting to say.

It was early in the evening and already he was bored and tired of politely indulging them all giving him all the reason he needed to make his escape. Sipping at a delicate glass of wine Damon's keen eyes scanned the crowd searching for the one woman he could bare to hold an actual conversation with. Thinking that it was about time to repay the dance he owed her his intentions were cut short when she finally entered his sights. Through the ever moving crowd he could see her moving elegantly across the dance floor on Stefan's arm laugh and smiling like old friends would. Much to his dislike a jolt of jealousy suddenly coursed through him at seeing his brother paying Mila such attendance.

It was beginning to get rather annoying for his brother to be intervening where he was unwelcome; first Katherine and now his best friend.

Suddenly feeling too annoyed Damon retreated from the room swiftly weaving his way through the hoards of chattering guests. On his way he paused briefly to snag a fresh bottle from the tray of a passing servant before disappearing unseen out one of lesser known entrances to the large building and going in search of a quiet place to be left alone with his thought. Somehow, without much thought he ended up at the garden pond where he and Mila so often meant. At first realizing where he'd come he thought to turn and find another place out of spite but a moment later when seeing that no guests had strayed into the quiet section he remained. Already slightly inebriated from his earlier glasses of wine Damon sat on the grassy ground uncaring of the dampness of the cool night that was already beginning to blanket the ground opened the bottle and took a long hard swallow.

It was over an hour later that that Mila found him staring contemplatively out of the moonlight water still nursing the bottle. Quietly she joined him and just uncaring of the dirt and dampness of the ground sat beside him grumbling slightly as she attempted to arrange the busy skirts of her ball gown comfortably.

From the corner of his eye Damon watched her doing his best to hold back a wide grin. As a companion to a 'Lady' Mila had been allowed to attend the ball that night yet her appearance to any trained eye of the upper class could see her rank. She was dressed in a simple pale violet gown laced with silver that was slim and wasn't the sort of low cut dress meant to be flashy and noticed by all as the other women were wearing that night. No jewelry but the glitter of silver at her wrist and her long sunset red curls arranged in an elegant mass a top her head. There was no need for her to attempt the glitz and flash of the other people in attendance because in that moment Damon couldn't deny how beautiful Mila truly was.

"I haven't seen you at the party for awhile," Mila finally spoke offering a gentle calming smile.

"You looked busy enough to me," Damon grumbled irritably, mostly irritated with himself knowing how jealous he sounded. "Why don't you go back," he shrugged taking another drink.

"Are you pouting?" she laughed almost in disbelief, the sound a tinkling echo through the quiet night.

"I don't pout," he defended quickly but being drawn into Mila's light teasing he added, "Men brood."

Much to Damon's pleasure his comment earned him yet another laugh from Mila. Unable to help himself a wide grin curled his lips her presence and laughter easing the previous tension away.

"Well Mr. Broody," she joked nudging him playfully. "Are you going to come back to the party?"

Suddenly the memory of Mila dancing so easily with Stefan and sting of Katherine's preference for Stefan came to mind immediately souring the light mood. Blaming the abundance of wine currently in his system for his whirling confused emotions Damon couldn't stop the next words that seemed to just spill from his lips—even if he'd wanted to.

"What's love to you?"

The moment the words left his mouth Damon felt like burying his head in the ground or anything to escape the wave of embarrassment that crashed over him. However, unlike the roaring laughter or jokes he'd expected Mila did neither. Instead she'd froze altogether looking at him as if seeing something he didn't quite see himself.

At that moment Mila was thankful for the cover of night that hid the deep blush from Damon at the sudden and unexpected question. After a moment figuring it a joke she tried to laugh but only a strained huff of air.

"You've obviously had too much to drink," she spoke awkwardly leaning over to snatch the wine bottle from him, taking a quick swallow for herself.

"Yes," Damon easily agreed his burning blue eyes now locked on her, glowing with something she recognized all too well as stubborn intent. "But I am serious."

Once again Mila paused meeting his intent steady gaze still as blue as the afternoon sky even as the night surrounded them. In them she saw the seriousness in which he had asked his question. Sighing deeply in resignation Damon watched as Mila carefully considered her answer before speaking.

"Love is-," she began pausing as if unsure if she should say what she was going to. "The one—the care and devotion you feel for the precious people around you. If fill you up and take over."

At times she stumbled and stuttered in finding the words but in them Damon could hear how truly she believed them. He was fascinated with her, with each word she spoke. Even in the darkness he could see how she truly she believed in her own words. He could feel it.

"It's like—chaotic—a storm," she tried to clarify smiling hugely as she looked over to find Damon watching her so attentively a content smile crossing his often intense features.

"Shut up," she laughed suddenly embarrassed once again and not knowing what else to do other than berate him.

"What?" he laughed blue eyes suddenly sparkling with a familiar humor, always enjoying throwing someone as level headed as Mila off.

"You're laughing!" Mila accused in mock annoyance.

"Am not," Damon defended himself even as he continued to laugh.

The two continued to laugh enjoying their moment of content. After several minutes of joking and play silence eventually settled upon them once more.

"Why are you asking?" Mila felt compelled to ask, questioning carefully but her violet eyes watched him with uneasy intensity.

Suddenly Damon was once again unsure of his decision to question Mila as he had. In that one decision he had opened himself up to questions from Mila as well. Not knowing what to say in answer Damon merely offered a half hearted shrug fully wishing she hadn't taken the bottle of wine from him. Yet, even then without even a single word Mila somehow seemed to understand perfectly.

"All we need is one person who truly loves us Damon. With that, all the hurt—the fear—everything is worth it. That one person makes ups want to be better."

Mila spoke so softly her voice was barely a whisper in the night that only he could've heard.

"If you can't allow that one person in—then one day a person is bound to realize their mistakes one day and regret it. That regret is a lot to live with."

It seemed to Damon as he listened to her soft sincere words that there was more Mila wanted to say and yet she kept it in.

Damon growled at the memory. Even in the past Mila had always managed so easily to get him to open up to her—more easily and affectively than anyone else he'd ever known. It was the comfort he felt when around her, like a child's security blanket. He enjoyed talking to her—he still did. Mila did the one thing that no one else ever had. She made him feel good about himself, making him feel wanted, needed and respected. As incredibly annoying as her harping could be—then and now—he loved it.

In the next moment his mind was once again flung back into the memory.

"Wait," she paused suddenly becoming upset as he saw a thought manifest uneasily in her mind. "This is about Katherine isn't it?"

Damon heard the barely concealed hiss of disapproval within Mila's words. Over their time together since her and Katherine's arrival in Mystic Falls he had taken notice more than once of her dislike of Katherine, although he could commend her for so being so adapt at concealing it. If not for coming to know her as well as he had Damon himself may have even missed her cold glares or fleeting scowls whenever Katherine was near or mentioned in conversation. It had from the start once realizing their uneasy tension filled relationship been a thing of fascination for Damon, leaving him to wonder at Mila's position as companion to a woman she seemed to hate. Knowing this he wished he could spare her the discomfort even if what she had accused him was only a partial truth yet he doubted whether it was or not would matter much in Mila's mind.

"Partially," he answered surprised that the single word seemed to outwardly calm her nerves slightly.

He had expected her to rant, to berate him as she usually did when upset. Continuing to speak to him in a calm sincere tone was the least of what Damon had expected.

"When it's real you can't walk away," Mila replied strongly her voice insistent, refusing for him to deny what she said. If he didn't know any better Damon would've thought there another meaning in what she said but unable to comprehend that hidden message let it go.

"You're strong Damon. Don't let them make you think otherwise. We all just have to remember sometimes—that even immortals forget their humanity," the cynical tone that had been present in her voice disappeared instantly leaving nothing but the deep sincerity. "Pain is part of life but strength to overcome it is as well. It's a strength that depends on not only strength we gain from those close to us but upon ourselves as well—it's our will."

As she spoke Mila starred off into the distance lost in thoughts and feelings that inspired her telling words. There was clearly more to her words than what she openly spoke and this was a fact that Damon's perceptiveness did not miss.

"You sound like you're speaking from experience," Damon observed watching her with keen interest but careful not to push her for answers.

"Perhaps," Mila offered a serene warm smile in reply. It helps knowing that all you need to survive is one person who truly loves us—however unexpected it may be

"Who's the person who loves you?" Damon asked straining himself in order to hold back the annoyed angry growl that begged to be released as a familiar intense red hot emotion stirred within.

"I am the person doing the loving," Mila explained evenly her voice more strained than it had been only moments ago and her eyes hardening.

"What if you don't have-," Damon began to question but was cut short by Mila.

"We all do. It's just a matter of it being returned and seeing it. Just because we don't return the feelings or know of them doesn't mean they're not there."

There it was again. Damon heard it in her voice as Mila spoke. There was that sense that there was more buried beneath the surface of what she spoke than what was actually being said. Yet, the answer—those unspoken words eluded him. What he did notice was the slight shake in her voice mixing with the fiercely spoken words that demanded he believe and understand them. Upon closer inspection through the darkness Damon saw with the help of the silver moon's glow the glisten of unshed tears.

"You're lucky to be as strong as you are," Mila mumbled clearly crying to hold back the threatening tears. "I admit that I am envious of that."

The simple admission shocked Damon. If he hadn't been sitting already he was certain the words would've knocked him to the ground from shock. It was the tears that deterred the confusion and anger that had begun to boil within him at the uncomfortable threat of female tears and the obvious meaning to their reasoning. Damon was at a loss usually being the one to blatantly avoid hysterical females but Mila was silent in her tears making him all the more uncomfortable.

There had always been a sadness about her that he had always worked to fix, always doing his best to make her smile and laugh. Somehow it had become one of the most important things to him. Now that same need to comfort her was taking over overriding the discomfort of her tears. Without giving his actions much thought Damon pulled himself across the grass closing the short distance between them and pulled her into a half hug, his own arm wrapping around her shoulder in a tight embrace.

"When I look at you I get this intense feeling in my chest," he told her intent on being as honest with her as she had been with him. "It's because you're not perfect, because you fail but you have the strength to get back up. I think you're incredibly strong."

"How would you know all that?" Mila sniffled leaning her head on his warm strong shoulder.

"I just know," Damon replied adamantly unwilling to reveal how closely he had observed her.

There seemed to reason for her to know how much she truly fascinated him or how much he'd seen in her moments of unawareness of being observed. He was already embarrassing himself enough as it was for her.

Leaning heavily against his shoulder Mila maneuvered herself in his arms to look up at him but not escape the warmth offered by his nearness.

"Who knew you could be so philosophical," she giggled the tears no longer present and replaced by a heartfelt smile.

"I am not just all good looks and charm you know," Damon scoffed returning the smile with a cocky grin of his own earning a playful nudge from Mila in return.

The grin however was quickly wiped away when the soft gentleness of Mila's lips skimmed the stubble skin of his jaw. Just as quickly as she had placed the kiss it was gone the shock waves that it had sent coursing through him still remaining long after leaving him flustered and confused.

"Thank you," she mumbled softly resting her head once more on his shoulder still not pulling away but rather seemed to snuggle closer.

The gentle words barely reached his ears as his mind still attempted to deal with the conflicting and strange emotions incited by her innocent kiss.

"I know you think you love her Damon or you think you do," Mila suddenly mentioned surprising Damon once again. "But as a friend," she went on the word 'friend' sounding oddly strained to Damon's ears. "As someone who knows her," she clarified further. "You get one life. There's no need to choose an impossible path. It's fine to live and die as you like—don't let her tell you differently."

At first Damon didn't understand what she was saying yet each word sound like a desperate plea to understand. As much as he wanted to he couldn't. They were words that he just couldn't understand. He must have wandered in his confusion for longer than he had first thought being pulled from his thoughts by Mila's small slim hands gently touching his face and pulling his face closer in order to meet his gaze.

"Promise me you'll live that way Damon!" Mila demanded soundly her violet unblinking stare blazing intensely.

"Promise," he promised sincerely to oblige her even if at the time he wondered why she would ask.

With the tension still hanging over them Mila finally pulled away swiftly getting to her feet. Damon watched her in wonder unsure of exactly what she was doing. For several long moments she stepped over the cool dew covered grass her eyes searching the ground. Nearing the edge of the pond she finally seemed to find whatever it was she'd been looking for. He watched her lean down picking up a small object hidden by the darkness before turning and making her way back toward him.

He looked up at her seeing her more clearly in the night as she stood so closely before him. Even in the velvet darkness of the night her hair seemed aglow, its usual calm red shades almost seemed to burn when touched by the silver glow of the moonlight contrasting greatly with the smooth paleness of her skin. Offering a serene smile she held out her hand releasing her grip to revel a tiny pale pink stone in her palm.

"A reminder of that promise," she told him softly leaning over further to take his hand with her free one and placing the stone in it.

If only he'd known then exactly what Mila had meant at the time. Mila had always been aware of what would eventually take place, more so with each day his obsession for Katherine grew. Always—she'd watched unable to stop him from following after Katherine not having listened to her warnings as he had promised. Each day his obsession had grown for Katherine he'd unknowingly allowed Katherine to lead them down the path toward the end of their human lives. It was true that Katherine was to blame but Damon knew he could not escape the same blame.

Now he understood what Mila had meant.

From the very beginning Mila had been trying to save him from the darkness of Katherine's influence. In return he'd—betrayed her. There seemed to better word but that to describe what he had done. The simple truth of that realize shook him to the core. Betrayal was never something he would seem himself capable of inflicting on Mila even after all the years between their separation.

Damon's hand reached inside his jacket feeling the small smooth weight of that same pale stone Mila had given him that night at the pond. A symbol of that promise he'd made and that Mila had so honestly asked him to make. For over a hundred years he'd carried it with him unable to throw it away despite its meaning long since shattered. Now it was a symbol of her belief in him—or what it had once been at least. He'd forgotten that promise, a fact that had the anger bubbling hotly beneath the surface.

It had been the first time he had ever lied to her.

Damon remembered clearly the days following his initial transition they were days filled with searching for Mila with hopes to learn any information on Katherine's fate in the burning church and the tomb below. She had to be the one to ask. If not Emily herself than Katherine must have said something of their plan to save the vampire's from their fate. Katherine must have left a message for him with Mila—it was the only thought continuously running through his mind; that and the knowing thirst.

He searched for days keeping out of sight but never found her. In the days following that fateful night in Mystic Falls Mila Crosse had seemed to disappear without a trace as if she had never even existed. In listening no one spoke her name. There were no pictures or mementos left behind. There was only nothing.

His safety of his one true friend hadn't even been on his mind until later when the initial shock of Katherine choosing Stefan above him—that 'he' wasn't her only choice. It was then that he quickly began to realize how dark his life had become without her to talk him out of it as she always had. Eventually, the not knowing of Mila's fate had eaten away at him. For all he knew the founding families had attacked Mila as well after deciding her involvement with Katherine held her as accountable for the lives Katherine and the other vampires had taken while in Mystic Falls.

There came a time when Damon eventually had to force himself to stop looking for her. He had to make himself accept that she wasn't going to be found.

Looking back on those days after his transformation now Damon couldn't deny the ache in his chest at not knowing for fate—hating that he was unable to look to his dearest friend in pain and confusion. He hated himself for not fearing for her safety sooner as she would have undoubtedly done for him.

In the bitterness of what was taken—of what was denied—that was the first time he remembered flipping that switch. It was better not to care. For centuries afterword he had reveled in the dark blood filled freedom and chaos allowed him when it was turned off. Damon willing forgot the pain of losing her, of hating Katherine of his lost humanity. He forgot the want of his humanity.

Unfortunately the switch had never been able to erase the memories. It was those same memories that upon returning to Mystic Falls of meeting Elena, Bonnie and the others that encouraged him to flip back on that switch. Somehow without his knowledge, without even knowing she was alive Mila had influenced his decisions.

As the memories shifted to a new image Damon felt his fist tighten around the tiny stone he still held. It was a single memory distorted by the pain of the gun shot that had ripped through his body as he laid near death. He remembered being unable to see in the whirling darkness that consumed him but he'd heard and felt her—perhaps more than she even realized.

At times Damon thought those moments of memory were nothing but a figment of his imagination. But now as the fog cleared he knew more than ever how real those moments had been.

Damon laid in the dirt and mud of the road leading away from his family's home. Moments ago he'd felt the hot searing pain of the bullet ripping through his chest sending him reeling backward from the sheer force of the hit. Everything was a whirl. In the distance he could hear the carriage that carried Katherine driving away along with the distant beats of horse's hooves and loud hollers of the vampire hunt that continued.

It was strange how heightened his senses were being so near death and the dizzying pain in both his mind and body. The cool night provided a blanket of dampness on the ground where he laid cooling the uncomfortable heat of his skin. Slowly the world around him grew quiet all the sound disappearing far into the distance until only the melodic chirping of crickets was left. It was strange, the peace of the night when somewhere nearby the founders of Mystic Falls were burning down a church filled with vampire and innocent people alike.

He wanted to open his eyes to see Stefan, he willed himself to do so but the strength eluded him. All he could do was pray that his brother was alive. Even as that prayer entered his mind Damon couldn't forget the deafening crack of the second gun-shot and knew such hopes were in vain.

Anger shot through him as the hopelessness of the situation sunk in twisting his insides in a pain grasp. They were both dying—for the same woman—a woman they both loves—a woman he both loved and hated. There had been a part of himself that had always hated Stefan for always being the one chosen and loved most by everyone round them. It only added to the anger thinking of how Katherine would choose Stefan as she did. It added to the anger with himself for hating Stefan at all when their situation wasn't truly his fault.

He hated himself for betraying the one person who had chosen him over Stefan.

With his rage boiling within him Damon was distracted that he didn't notice the approach of a figure from the darkness until the loud crack of a twig snapping echoed through the quiet night. If he'd been able to move he would've frozen, playing the part of the dead man he was suppose to be having no interest in being shot again to be finished off. It was a feat that didn't require much as his body was already numb and uncooperative.

As he laid there listening to the silent approach a familiar scent of sunflowers and honey reached his nose instantly sparking recognition within him. Damon felt her lean over him her gentle loving hands reaching to stroke his cheek her cool skin chasing away the heat of his own burning skin. If he'd been able to he would've nuzzled her hand seeking more of that cool gentleness. A moment later he felt the wet pearly drops of rain fall from above as they plopped against his skin finding t strange when no more followed.

Damon heard a wavering intake of breath followed by another and the realization that the rain drops hadn't been rain at all was like a punch to the gut. Mila was crying, doing all she could to hold back the flood of tears through the heart wrenching sobs wracking her body. As if he couldn't be more shocked he felt her lean down closer wavering above him for a brief moment as her warm breath brushed across his skin from above him she spoke a simple promise.

"No matter what happens I'll be with you—forever."

With that promise made his already stuttering heart leap missing a beat in time. His heart seemed to stop all together as Mila leaned in closer pressing her lips to his in a true goodbye kiss. Damon felt the shock waves course through him from where their lips meant to the tips of his toes. Its touch was mind numbing.

As a few more droplets hit his skin Mila began to pull away and although he couldn't see her she seemed almost reluctant to go. There was nothing more Damon wanted in that moment than to follow, to stop her and ask what she had meant by everything in those last moments. He wanted to but his failing body was falling faster into the darkness of oblivion. He felt his heart slowing even more until it stopped completely and there was nothing left.

Damon stared in shock down at the tiny pale stone he held in his hand. The memory had been almost forgotten.

Why?

Even as the question passed through his mind he knew the answer as clear as day. No matter what Mila had meant in those last moments however, unknown his consciousness had been to her there was no hope for anything more. There never had been hope for them. He knew that she had always meant something to him—that memory hadn't been forgotten. He also knew that whether there could be something more or not—he didn't deserve her. That was the memory—the emotion he'd kept switched off. He pushed them away until even he had forgotten all the possibilities and truths that had leap inside him that moment as he lay dying and her lips touched his so lovingly.

Damon had made the decision himself before he had even died that night to hide those feelings away, to push them away. There were so many things he'd thought he'd forgotten.

Now that he remembered everything—what could he do?

Nothing. That was all.

Everything would remain as it had been. Both he and Mila would continue to ignore the feelings that had always been untold—push them away and keep them hidden. Friendship was all he could offer. It was all he was worth of—yet, he doubted he was worthy of even that.

With his decision made Damon returned the stone to his jacket pocket where it would be safe and out of sight. With no more to think on he turned and walked rather than run back toward the main road that would lead back toward the mansion. As he walked he attempted to ignore his thoughts as they only continued to wander back to the subject of Mila.