Author's Note:

Yea, I'm not even going to bother explaining my 3-week delay. I'm just too busy and sleep deprived to even muster that.

Not the strongest chapter, but there is a point to it.

Enjoy!

Chapter 13: The Ring

The air was thick and stale like a room closed off for years—17 years. But it wasn't the old air that caused this constricting feeling deep in my throat, it was the sense of this room. It felt so empty and cold and dead, and then yet it felt so comfortably familiar—it felt like Damon.

My quiet footsteps echoed through the walls as I stepped forward, leaving the door as I did to quietly rest almost closed with just a crack to the hall, my entire body mesmerized by this room. This room centered around one main feature: the enormous classic but modern four-poster bed centered square in the room's four walls. I let my fingers lightly drag over the dusty, silken comforter as I passed and the thought of the last time Damon slept in this bed alive came to mind.

Did he know it was the last night he'd sleep here?

The hardwood walls had paintings and mirrors and shelves of different books, but relevant to the size of the massive suite, it was fairly bare. I smiled when I cornered original copies of classics I recognized. A classic leather chair by the bed, perfect for reading—not that I expected much downtime form Damon Salvatore. The last decade of his life was almost torture.

I stopped back at the other side of the bed, looking down at the geometric earthy comforter and off-white sheets. My fingers ran over the smooth, silky exterior of his comforter…it was warm in the room. It was beautiful. But it was so dead and bittersweet with its owner never to walk its floors again.

This was Damon's room. The room he'd lived in and out of for his almost 200 years of existence. Possibly one of the last spaces he walked before his death.

My footsteps were soft and silent over the old flooring. A thin layer of dust had accumulated over every surface-but it was so beautiful. Off to the side was an all-stone walled bathroom fit for a king.

Very Damon.

I stood facing the window. It was wide and open and overlooked the forestry behind the boarding house. My arm reached out for a bedpost but when my fingers made contact the shattering frozen feeling struck up my spine like lightning.

I gasped out loud suddenly at a petrifying freeze as my eyes went white, my body went rigid and my ears roared out deafeningly.

The room rematerialized, this time occupied.

Damon was standing in that same spot I had just been in, back towards the door, face towards the black, lifeless night. He was just looking out, no words or expressions emitted from his face. He looked empty and pensive.

"Yes, Elena?" He unexpectedly spoke and without a sound Elena could be seen at the door, not at all surprised he had heard her.

"Damon…" She started slowly, worriedly.

"Elena…" he dragged out back in an imitation. He turned around to her, but this time his face was more relaxed, hiding his empty coldness of moments prior.

"I want to make sure you're alright, Damon," she spoke softly stepping inside.

"Today six different people I tried to protect died-including you," he spoke back matter-of-factly, stepping forward too. They were both now a foot apart in the center of the room looking at each other. "Why wouldn't I be fine?" He asked, but she knew what he was saying.

"It wasn't your fault, Damon."

"Of course not Elena, its never anyone's 'fault' with you, is it?" His tone grew surprisingly dark, features tightened and tensed, as he got closer to her, eyes boring into hers. "You can always find the best in people, right?"

"Damon, I-" she tried to speak but he didn't let her.

"You what, Elena? You didn't mine watching him kill Tyler?" His expression darkened suddenly. "Felt nothing as he ripped through Bonnie?" His eyes grew red, his skin started to bubble over dark, black veins around his beautiful face. "You're fine that your brother died in front of you?" He bit back so sharply it cut through the tension like a stake.

"Damon!" Elena finally yelled, successfully quieting him. The first tears were falling down her broken, brown eyes. "Enough," she spat. Her pain was as obvious as the moon, so evident on her petite frame and delicate face. Damon's body changed too, calming down, becoming saddened, himself, and sympathetic. He was mirroring her every feeling and movement, his body language perfectly in tuned with hers. He was heart-breakingly in love with her.

"It wasn't your fault," she repeated more softly. "You can't save me this time."

"You've become what I hate most about myself." Elena's face turned to his in part shock at his words.

"Then don't become what I hate most about myself and let you or your brother die for me."

His eyes shot up to hers at that but he kept his façade.

"Promise me you won't put yourself in danger for me, Damon—not again."

His lips parted just lightly, pale eyes canning her brown ones for a second, but he remained silent.

"Damon, promise me," she pleaded. "Promise me you're not going to get yourself in trouble again to protect me."

He took both her hands in his, pulling her a step closer and locking there eyes.

"Just promise me I won't lose you too," she pleaded quietly.

"I promise, Elena," he finally said.

Her lips sprouted a slow, sad smile and she then glanced at him for a moment before awkwardly wrapping her arms around him for a quick embrace. Damon didn't move and remained stiff in the hug until Elena let go, smiled up at him one more time before leaving his room and closing the door behind her.

Damon turned back to the window, letting out a large sigh. He was torn, tortured and pensive. His hands were playing with the large blue finger on his finger as he kept starring out that window before stopping and glancing down at his hands.

A sad smirk graced his lips as he slid the large ring off and brought it to his eyes.

"I won't need you anymore," he spoke to the ring before turning and walking towards the farthest bedside table of his room. He glanced at the ring one more time before setting it down, sliding it back to the far corner of the table and turning and heading out of his room.

He paused at the door way, turned and suddenly starred directly into my eyes.

I gasped out loudly and crumbled to my knees.

My chest was heaving in deep breaths, my heart roaring in my ears under my own pulse.

This didn't just happen. I couldn't have just seen this.

"Oh God…" I whispered to myself standing quickly and turning right to that table I had just seen Damon rest his ring. I ran over to the side, running my hands on its surface without finding anything.

"Please," I pleaded as I opened the drawer and looked through its contents.

"Please don't be here and show me it true. Please be-" something caught my eyes on the floor, to the corner of the small end table just beside the northwest bedpost.

I fell to my knees and reached out, and as soon as the small, cool, metallic surface of a ring came into contact with my fingers, I knew it was all true.

That was a vision—no the future, not a dream, but the true past.

And it changed everything.

I slowly brought the ring up to my hands as I felt the first tear slide slickly down my skin.

How could any of this be? He couldn't have had it all planned…Damon Salvatore was staked-it was an accident, completely unplanned. He died a hero saving a loved one like taking a bullet at the last second. It had all been a tragic accident no one could have anticipated.

But it wasn't.

Somehow, for some reason, Damon knew he was going to die. He had it all planned. And at this moment I felt more torn than ever before, half my body in agony at this new truth of this death, the other half enraged that he'd lied all these years-set himself up as an innocent bystander when he had his death planned all along.

Digging my fingers into my head and clutching at my scalp I had to choke back all the thought that were suffocating me.

He knew it. He knew.

"Elle?" I dropped the ring in my lap instantly; flipping my head back to the door so quickly I felt my neck snap loudly in protest. Jeremy was standing just outside the doorframe, peering inside awkwardly like a child sneaking into his parent's locked bedroom. When he noticed my face though, his entire presence changed and he instantly appeared next to me.

"Elle, what's wrong?" He put one hand to the side of my face, his body crouched low next to mine, looking into my broken eyes. Starring back into his worried but warm expression, I knew there wasn't any point in hiding it from Jeremy and I pulled the ring up to him.

"He knew," I whimpered shakily. Jeremy glanced at the large ring once, than back at my eyes, and at glancing back at the ring a second time, lightly took it into his free hand gently. The ring flipped into his palm as the large engraved crest with a 'D' shined dully up at him and he registered whose it was.

"Where did you find this?" He asked me incredulously.

I looked up teary at him. "Right where Damon left it the night before he died." And then Jeremy registered what I was saying.

"You saw him here-you had a flashed vision." It wasn't a question and I nodded slowly. Jeremy closed his eyes for a moment, processing all this new information, his hand closing around Damon's enchanted ring for a moment before reopening his eyes with a whole new strange expression.

"He knew he was going to die, Jeremy," I whispered at him low. "He planned it all along, and he lied to Elena."

"I…but…" Jeremy was at a loss of words, confusion and some hurt splayed on his handsome face. "What do you mean 'he knew'?"

"He knew, Jere," I repeated myself. This time I clutched his hand with the ring firmly. "Elena asked him to promise he wouldn't get himself hurt for her anymore-to stay safe, and he lied. He went along with it, then took off this ring," I pulled the ring out of his palm at took his gaze for a second. "And then said how he would 'never need it again'."

Jeremy's eyes were transfixed on mine. In that moment he'd never looked so torn, confused and lost, yet there was something strange about that expression.

"Elle-" he began quietly before an ear-shattering scream broke through air like a whip and both our heads snapped to the open door. Before I could glance back at Jeremy, he was gone and down the stairs. Someone screamed, shouts erupted and loud crashes and crumbles reverberated off the old Salvatore walls.

I jumped to my feet and ran out of the room, but before I could even get to the base of the stairs I heard the familiar voice of Jeremy scream in agony.

I flew down the stairs, and instantly saw Elena face down on the floor, Stefan across the room with an arm definitely facing the wrong direction and Jeremy crouched right in the center of the room, clutching his head and screaming. Against the opposite wall of the room, the girl previously possessed by Bonnie Bennett was standing, blood tricking down her arms, one hand up in a protective stance, but eyes dark with aggression. Suddenly her eyes jumped up to mine, but before I could even think about it, she flew backward, spun in the air and straight through the window behind her.