Holybananas!

Thanks for the love you all left me in reviews. I adore reading it and I appreciate you taking the time to do it!

This chapter was short, but necessary. I hope you like it!

"Family only."

"Please, just listen to me."

The nurse rolls her eyes and sighs. "I don't care if you're the queen of England. Only family is allowed."

I bite on my tongue and lean back on one of the metal crutches. Blinking back tears, I glare at her. "I am his only family."

"He has a brother on file."

"I don't give a shit about his brother! If he were awake right now-" I choke on a light sob,"-he would want me with him. Stefan would want me with him."

The nurse eyed me warily for a moment before leaning in. "You're very lucky, Miss Gilbert. Not only are you not dead, but you aren't ticketed for driving a motorbike without a license. Now, typically I wouldn't disclose this much, but I see you care a great deal for your friend. He isn't looking good at all."

My stomach drops as she continues. "He needs someone who can help him, and that isn't an eighteen year old girl. Do yourself a favor and call your parents to pick you up."

I could feel my blood rushing up to my face in anger. God, I hated her. She knew nothing about Stefan and I or how much we loved each other. I know Stefan would want me with him right now.

I wipe another tear from my eye because I know that crying will get me absolutely nowhere. Turning around to the hospital doors, I flick the stupid nurse off and pull out Stefan's cell phone.

I had to call somebody because the nurse was partially right. There was nothing I could do. The bike was totaled and I had no money. They didn't tell me anything about Stefan's condition except for what the nurse just told me, but I could already presume her information when I saw him being carried away on a stretcher, eyes closed.

It was morbidly funny seeing him lying there. Stefan was never that...peaceful. Even when he was asleep he would snore like a cow with a small smile on his face. He would breathe obnoxiously and his eyes would flutter all the time. But on the stretcher he looked lifeless. He looked bloody and broken and it was all my fault.

I used to think Stefan and I were the best thing for each other.

Maybe we were the worst.

I wonder what he's thinking right now and if he would hate me for what I'm about to do. But they've given me no choice and I can't suffer like this anymore.

I dial an unfamiliar sequence of digits, waiting for the cold voice to answer by biting my nails. A part of me hopes he doesn't pick up. But as of lately, I should've known hope wasn't on my side.

"Damon Salvatore."

His voices makes me rigid as I flounder for my voice. "Damon? It's me. Elena Gilbert."

Calling him by his first name felt awkward on my tongue but I didn't have time to think about that. Any of that.

"I assumed it would be. My brother isn't one for frivolous phone calls. So I guess I'll bite. Why are you calling me?"

My voice catches at his brief mention of his brother and I struggle to catch my breath. He must hear me because his voice melts into a concerned one rather quickly, which makes me begin to cry.

"Elena?"

I pant out my silent sobs and drop my head into my hand. "Damon?"

I hear a crash on the other line and I flinch before letting out another body shaking sob. "Damn it to hell, Elena. What the fuck is going on? Where is my brother?"

"I didn't mean to..I was just trying to learn how to ride the bike. I told him to wear a helmet, Damon. I would never want to hurt Stefan. You know that, don't you? I hope he knows that." My hysterical monologue leaves me dizzy and squatting on the floor.

The dead silence rings in my ear and I lightly ponder about how beautiful it is outside but how darkness looms over me.

I cry hard on the phone for the longest time. I cry for Stefan and all of the blood. I cry because of the stretcher. I cry because Stefan and I loved that bike and now it's gone. I cry because Damon loses everything and now he may lose the last thing he has. I cry because all of the 'I love yous' Stefan never got to hear. Especially from me. I cry because he does stupid things but he does them for smart reasons. I cry because he took me on a trip across the U.S. because I, a stranger, lost control of my life.

A guy who genuinely cares about people and making life matter is laying on a bed, his fate undetermined with no one there to hold his hand and tell him it will be okay. I wanted to be that one. So I cry more because he deserves those tears and someone who will love him and say it and mean it and won't crash the bike he loves. I cry for this boy because he is the greatest boy I ever met and I don't know if I'll see him again, until I have no more tears and the ones on my cheeks are stale.

It's not until my breathing evens, around 20 minutes later, that I realize Damon was crying with me.

Hours ticked by.

I sit in this burgundy chair in the waiting room across from the bitchy nurse. She gives me cautious looks every five seconds like I'm going to snap.

Maybe I will.

I've drank 2 cups of coffee, but my body doesn't want anything but Stefan.

I've devised a plan that will hurt a lot, but in the end I think that it's worth it. It's what I've been doing the whole day. The doctor tells me to elevate my foot but won't tell me what's wrong with Stefan. In turn, I disregard everything he says and focus on the inevitable aftermath.

I'll stay until Damon gets here and go inside to make sure that Stefan is alive, because if he's alive, then I'm alive. After that I'll call Jenna and go home. I've done enough damage.

I have a life to get back to, and I was stupid to believe that it would last forever. Stefan and I were not a full song. We were the favorite part you played over and over again; the only part you ever knew the lyrics to.

I'd have to accept the fact that in reality we couldn't work. He taught me how to love and appreciate life but he needs to be with someone who won't suck that out of him. I'm a disease to him, and he needs a cure. He'll never find that with me and I think he knows that. That's why he doubted us.

I get it now.

I just need to make sure I can get enrolled into a good college and move as far away as possible. I need to follow the original plan that would have happened if Stefan hadn't intervened.

I twirl his phone in my hand, refusing to give it to any of them here. They'd take it and I'd lose my only connection to him. I'll give it back when I see him.

Damon texted me an hour ago telling me that he landed in Nevada. He took the earliest flight he could but now it was all a matter of getting him across town. His tone was as indifferent as usual, but I know he must be hurting. I saw and heard that hurt.

I roll my head to the side and keep my head focused on Jenna's phone number.

Not yet.

I exit out of the phone and close my eyes, my head finding comfort against the beige colored walls.

"Elena?"

The voice was real this time, not an audio over a phone. It sent chills up my body. Not the kind I got when Stefan spoke, but the ones you got when you spoke to someone of a high authority.

I lazily open an eye to see a disheveled Damon hovering over me. My heart began to hurt as I openly looked at him. His usually light cerulean eyes were dimmed nearly black, supported by dark wrinkly bags from lack of sleep. His arms hung limply at his sides, covered in a sweat jacket and a wife beater. His hair looked as if it were tugged on with ebony cowlicks gracing his head.

I scampered to my feet, hauling the metal crutches with me, and yanked at my own hair. "He's back there. They won't let me see him. I tried to tell them that I was with him but they didn't listen to me." I looked pointedly at the nurse. "They wouldn't even call you because he's 18. Isn't that bullshit?"

He said nothing but walked toward the front desk. I followed him, a more confident stride than before. "Excuse me, but my name is Damon Salvatore and I need to see my brother."

The desperation in his voice makes me wince. I bring my arms around me so I"m holding myself.

The nurse holds her hand out for identification and once satisfied, hands him a sign in sheet. He hurriedly scrawls his name down and she buzzes a doctor down to the desk.

He walks with a shaky smile over to us. He was a good looking doctor with blonde slick hair and bright green eyes. "Mr. Salvatore. We were about to transfer your brother to his registered hospital, but we're glad you could make it. I'm Dr. Peterson and I've been attending to him."

"Me too. It's nice to meet you. How is he?"

He stutters for a moment and his eyes flicker to me. I see Damon nod, which I'm guessing was a non verbal consent for me to listen in.

Dr. Peterson sighs and scratches his jaw. "Not the best case of a motorcycle incident but certainly not the worst. He broke his left arm and fractured his left leg. We've already put a cast over it and popped both bones back into place. He's suffered a brain injury but we aren't sure how severe. Memory loss, especially short term, is probable. We'll know more when he wakes up, as right now he's comatose."

Tears prick my eyes and I feel Damon drop his head into his hands. The Doctor's voice shakes in compassion but he doesn't stop. "He lost a great deal of blood. When he landed on his left side, his shoulder blade jammed into a shard of rock. It impaled him extremely deep and he immediately passed out from pain. He rolled over and the rock slipped out but left a hole for blood to escape.

We did a blood transfusion and cleaned the wound to prevent infection successfully. We stitched him up and he's been placed in ICU, simply because we don't know the severity of his injuries."

I know I'm crying again, but I keep my mouth covered so I don't make a sound. When I look up at Damon, I see his red rimmed eyes with unshed tears.

"Is he going to be okay?" His voice cracks and I've never seen him look so vulnerable in my life. It scares me.

Dr. Peterson looks at us both carefully. "We don't know yet. We're doing the best we can."

He gives us an encouraging smile and backs away from us.

Damon and I stand, shedding silent tears for another few minutes. It feels like my feet will fall from under me. I feel him sigh beside me and wipe his eyes with the end of his shirt.

My body lunges back at the intensity of his stare when he regains his composure. I look at him, frightened, as his burning eyes scold me.

"Do you love my brother, Elena?" He asks tauntingly, quickly resuming to his evil attitude. I nod mutely but then open my mouth to verbalize it.

"More than anything."

"Then leave," he bites out spitefully. "Leave, and never bother him again."

My body trembles and aches all over. I nod again and reach in my back pocket because I understood. Shaking, I pull Stefan's cell phone out.

"I need to call my aunt," I tell him, clutching the phone tightly.

He leans forward and yanks it from my hands nearly toppling me over. He glares at me and lifts a finger toward the phone on the hospital wall.

"You can use that one. That's what it's for."

I stare at him blankly, the last trinket of our relationship in Damon's cold hands. My feet feel frozen and I can't move. I think it's because I know Stefan wouldn't want me to.

Suddenly, Damon leans forward the closest to me that he's ever been. "Leave!" He roars angrily, throwing the cellphone across the room. It hits the wall with a crack and falls into two pieces on the linoleum floor.

I pant out a final sob, wiping my tears. The nurse stands from the desk and watches us, but I back up quickly. I didn't want a fight.

"You don't know what love is," I tell him softly. "You don't know what it is because you've lost it so many times and now you're so bitter and cold. I feel sorry for you, Damon."

I turn on my heel and hop away on the stupid crutches holding me up. When it becomes too much, I'm practically running on my injured foot. The hospital is too stuffy and too much of who I was when I was with Stefan and I didn't need that anymore.

I wipe more sticky tears from my eyes and settle outside on the curb, shaking and clutching my foot. I rub it for a moment and then look around at all the unfamiliar places and things I've never seen and realized I didn't ever want to see anything unfamiliar or interesting without Stefan there to see it to.

I'll never get that again.

I ignore the looks of the bystanders and focus only on drawing small figures on my body to distract myself.

It's time for the plan to start. I need to get out of this place or I'll combust.

I wobble to my feet, hissing at the pain on my left. I hop onto my crutches and push myself over to the telephone.

I only had the clothes on my back and my wallet. My bag and everything else was in that hotel room and I didn't want or need any of it. I pull out my wallet from my dirty pocket and pull out two quarters.

I jam them into the slot with my thumb and dial numbers I know so well. As it rings, I tap the side of the booth, straightening out my body. The dial tone makes my heart thud and I almost reconsider until I hear her voice on the other line.

"Hello?" She asks warily.

I slip my hand onto the top of my left crutch and sigh. "Jenna?"

"Elena? Honey, is that you? Baby, what's wrong?"

Her voice almost makes me lose it again but I shake back my thoughts and try to focus again. "Jenna I'm in Vegas. I need to come home. I...I have no money. I have nowhere to go and I need to come home."

I hear her moving around on the other side of the line, worry lacing her movements. "What's wrong? Why can't Stefan take you home?"

"Because," I bite on my bottom lip. "Jenna, I want to come you please get me? Please? I need to come home."

She pauses for a moment and then speaks quickly. "Stay where you are. Where are you?"

I hobble to the edge of the curb and look up. "Ridgeview Hospital."

"Stay there, Elena. I love you, sweetie. I'm so sorry. I'll be there as soon as I can, okay?"

I nod against the phone until she isn't there anymore and even after.

I look up at the sky again and try not to think because it only hurt.

I needed to go home.

Even if I believed that my real home was in this hospital unconscious.