Hey, people! This is my first delena story –the crossover doesn't really count– so I would love if you guys told me what you think of it. If you are one of those people that just reviews to criticize please refrain of doing so. If you don't like, don't read, simple as that. However, I'm open to suggestions and I'll accept them with open arms. This was supposed to be a Oneshot, but i was already by the eighteenth page and not close to finishing, so i decided to split it and make it a story.

I would like to thank and dedicate this lil' fic to Deepwater1978, for her endless support and help. She's been very helpful and supportive and she deserves a big fat applause (I'm not kidding, applaud her). She's an awesome writer too, so if you're a delena shipper check her stories out.

I'll stop ranting now so you can start reading. Kisses!

Winter after Stefan comes back from his killing spree with Klaus.

Damon takes his eyes from the road again to look at the girl lying on the back seat of his Camaro. She's wearing jeans and his black t-shirt, and although it's extremely big on her it can't hide the large bruises and cuts that cover her petite form. Her legs are the only part of her body that's unharmed. The skin on her arms is covered in cuts that thankfully have stopped bleeding. His shirt hides the deep bruises across her ribs, a couple bruised and a couple broken. And her face, the left half of it, it's a dark blue, almost purple in places and a sickly yellow at the edges.

He knows he'll be able to cure her once they get to their destination, but damn if it doesn't hurt to see her like this. Battered, broken.

He'd arrived home from the Grill after lunch with Alaric to hear yells and cries; pleads to stop and bellows of rage. He'd flashed into the house, up the stairs and into his brother's room only to find Stefan standing over a cowering Elena and the smell of her blood heavy in the air. He'd ran and shoved his brother to the side, his eyes taking in her state in one second before he was behind Stefan and his neck was broken in the following breath.

He had approached Elena, kneeling beside her. Her shirt had been lying in tatters on the floor and she had been holding her bra to her chest, even if it wouldn't be of much service anymore. She'd whispered his name, followed by a broken plea to help her. He had taken of his shirt and helped her into it before grabbing an empty duffle bag and filling it with her clothes. He had swung it over his back and proceeded to pic Elena up and cradle her to his bare chest.

He had raced to his car and sped off. And here he is, almost four… no, five hours later. Elena had passed out at some point in the first hour. He's a bit worried that she might have a concussion, but he's going to heal her the second they arrive at their destination, so he lets her sleep. This month had been unusually cold and he eyes the sky warily. Today it's completely gray, not a spec of blue. If it starts to snow before they arrive, they could be in serious trouble.

To his luck, it doesn't start to snow until he's already parking the Camaro in front of a little wooden house. He's happy he'd restocked the kitchen a week ago, planning to come here for a little 'zen' retirement for the winter.

(Translation: grab a girl and have a wild week of booze, sex and more booze. Then erase her memory and continue with life.)

It's similar to Elena's house in Dunham Lake, only smaller. It has three bedrooms, two bathrooms, an open kitchen, and a cozy living room slash dining room with a fireplace.

He gets out of the car, leaving the key on so the air conditioning doesn't stop. Running to the door he gets the key out of it's hiding place under a tile of the porch and opening the door, he flashes to the fireplace. In a minute he has a nice fire and ads a couple of extra logs. He goes to the kitchen next and flicks all the switches of the control panel on, activating the electricity and the gas. The heating system starts right away. With a nod of satisfaction Damon goes outside, only to find Elena lying face down on the ground. There's already a thin layer of snow, so the front of her clothes are soaked and the back has tiny specks that are growing bigger by the moment. In a flash he picks her up and hurries to the house.

"D'mon?" she slurs. He shushes her.

"Dammit, Elena. What were you thinking? You should've stayed in the car."

"Couldn't… find you…" her head falls to his shoulder, making her moan when it just increases her already pounding headache.

"You'll be fine soon. I'll give you some of my blood and you'll be jumping all over the place in no time. But first we've got to get you out of those soaked clothes, if you get sick this is gonna be more difficult."

Little pause that contains a teeny tiny spoiler, it's not specific but if you haven't seen from season 6 to 8 and aren't comfortable with spoilers DO NOT READ THE FOLLOWING INTERVENTION:

I don't really know if it's really like this, but I'm making that the vampire blood can't cure illness. I'm going from the fact that it can't cure cancer. But if it can, not in this story. My story, my rules XD.

Damon opens the door and the interior is already toasty. He carries her to the fireplace and using his foot, he nudges a beanbag as close as possible to the fire before turning and seating her on the sofa. He disappears and is back again with the duffle bag in a second.

"Ok, lets get you out of those clothes." He opens the duffle and is pleased to find jeans and sweats, but his excitement decreases when he can only find short sleeved t-shirts. At least he got underwear and bras to last her a week. "You'll have to wear some of my shirts, I didn't get long sleeves." She just sways a bit and nods. "Don't move."

He's in his room, sorting through his shirts after having put on one himself when he hears her throwing up. He grabs one –gray with long sleeves– and runs down stairs. When he can't see her in the living room, he follows the sounds to the bathroom. He finds her bending over the toilet, her hands almost white from the forceful way she's grabbing it. Damon rushes to her and takes her hair, keeping it out of the way with one hand meanwhile he rubs her back with the other.

"I think you have a concussion, Elena. Are you sleepy?" she finally stops and he gives her a towel to clean her face. He then carries her to the sofa again and helps her change her clothes. He looks at her in the eyes, only to find that she has a far away look and… "Oh shit!" he grabs her face, careful of the bruise at the left side and forces her eyes open. She has the pupils of different size. "No good! Elena! Hey, are you with me?!" he snaps his fingers at her. She blinks and looks at him with a dazed look.

"D'mon? Wha're you doin' he…?" her head rolls back and he seizes it before she hurts her neck. Damon sits next to her and lays her across his lap, her head cradled in his elbow. He bites his wrist and presses it to her lips.

"C'mon, Elena. Drink!"

She finally swallows and Damon breathes a sigh of relive. He can already see her bruises healing and her cuts closing. He then curls Elena in the beanbag and covers her with two blankets. Now he just has to wait for her to wake up.

A second later he gets impatient and starts making dinner.