Read this note, please. I know what I said about not knowing when I'd be able to post a story again. But I was re-watching 4x15 recently, and the humanity-off scene really struck a chord in me. So, now you have this! Right now I'm leaning towards keeping it a one-shot, though I did write a full second chapter, and a small chunk of a third. If the response merits it, I'll expand.


Damon sits on the empty side of his bed, watching Elena sleep.

Her body is snuggled under the covers, brown hair fanned out over his pillow. She's wearing one of his John Varvatos shirts, along with a pair of shorts from the stock of clothes she has at the boarding house. The sight of his clothing on her makes him smile, despite the generally fucked-up, extremely regrettable nature of the whole situation.

He has no idea what will happen to her now that her humanity is off, and add to that, her house is now burned down, as per her wishes. Damon can't deny the gravity of the memories they had there, and he sighs at the loss of the porch where he and Elena shared such significant moments.

Pinching the bridge of his nose due to stress, Damon curses under his breath and turns his attention back to the girl in his bed. He has never prayed to God much, but now he's willing to do and say anything, just to ensure that she'll be okay. He knows that if something happens to her because of Jeremy's death, he won't survive it.

His hand reaches out to touch her, and he remembers what he did so long ago. His fingers repeat the same motion, ghosting down over her cheek with the slightest tremor in them. When her own hand reaches out to trap his in a slight grip, that's when Damon's heart breaks.

It shatters for the girl in front of him.

Internally, he wants to cry for her - for the girl who has lost everything, and for her whom he's grown to love above even his own life.

Still, though his heart is breaking, it is also patching itself up with hope. After all, she did touch him.

She reached out for his fingers, and that's enough fodder for him to go on. Maybe, against all odds, her humanity isn't as gone as they all think. He hopes that somewhere inside that chest of hers, some emotion still exists, even if it's just a few small tatters here and there.

For him those tatters are important. The tatters are a sign that all isn't lost, that his Elena isn't gone, only repressed. Of course, while he could love her even if she killed thousands with her switch off, he would not allow her to lose herself. He would not allow her to become the empty shell he once was before she saved him.

"How fucking poetic," he ends up saying to himself, with a sardonic smile on his face. "You saved me before, and made my switch go on again. I guess it's time for me to return the favor, sweetheart."

She squirms slightly, and Damon shuts up, not wishing to wake her. Moving silently, he stands and walks to her side of the bed. He kneels, laying a soft kiss on her forehead. Along with it, Damon whispers a verbal promise.

"I swear to you, Elena. I will find a way for you to be happy again."


Soon enough, the elder Salvatore ends up downstairs, his feet heading straight for the liquor cabinet. Right now, he needs the burn. He needs to feel something, and remind himself that he has to be strong for Elena. Seeing her so broken and blank has destroyed something inside him, and he isn't keen on that sensation.

More than anything, he wants the old Elena back, the Elena who had emotion, and enough nerve to fight for him when he didn't even think he was worth it. Of course, the pragmatic part of him is already coming up with ways to soothe her once the grief comes gushing back.

Damon takes a sip, relishing the way the bourbon coats his throat.

It fills him with a slow-spreading warmth, completely unnecessary, but not entirely unwelcome. Holding the glass at eye-level, he stares at the blue orbs reflected in the crystal. For the longest moment, he finds himself lost in his own face, until his ears pick up the uncertain cadence of his brother's voice.

"I'm worried about what'll happen to her."

"So am I." Damon takes another sip. "But if I hadn't told her to turn it off, I don't think she would've been able to cope. Jeremy was the last of her family. His death would've killed her too, and I won't fucking accept that."

Stefan exhales, and it's a tired expulsion of breath. "It just makes me uneasy, you know? Look at you and me. It took us decades to come back to ourselves whenever we turned off our switches. I needed Lexi to get my humanity back, and you needed Elena to get back yours."

Damon sets his glass down on a table, crossing his arms. He locks eyes with Stefan, determined blue meeting a sea of anxious green. The two brothers stay silent, each waiting to hear the other's words.

The elder of the two breaks the stalemate first. "Elena's not alone, Stefan. You had Lexi and I had her, but Elena has both of us. We'll try to bring her back nice and slow, but if that doesn't work, you can be sure of one thing. Even if she hates me for it, I'll bring back her humanity, one way or another."

Stefan nods, almost imperceptibly. An agreement has clearly been made, however wordless it is. Damon turns to leave, but then is stopped by Stefan's hand on his shoulder.

"What is it?" he asks, spinning around.

"Damon, I need to say this to you. And I know you what you said earlier at her house, but you need to hear it."

Damon puts his hand on his brother's shoulder, just as he did on Elena's now-burnt porch. His voice is as gentle as it was then. "Stefan, you don't need to say it. I told you earlier, remember? I know."

"I still think that you deserve to hear the words. And I'd like to say them."

"Okay then."

Stefan pauses for a second or two before he continues. "We've been through a lot, Damon. But I just want you to know that you matter to me, and I do care about you. I don't want to lose my elder brother."

A smile finds its way onto Damon's face, and he thinks he hasn't been this emotional in quite some time. In his head, he debates whether to hug Stefan or not, but soon he throws all his reservations out the window.

Fuck everything, including my badass reputation. Stefan just admitted to caring about me.

Damon quickly extends his arms, and Stefan responds in less than a second. They haven't hugged each other like this since they were human, and the gravity of the moment isn't lost on either of the two. Damon pats Stefan's back before they separate, and both brothers bear smiles on their faces.

"I need to go to Elena now," Damon soon says, "but I do appreciate what you said. And don't you forget this. I care about you too. Like it or not, you're stuck with me until the sun plows into this planet and kills us both."

"I'm sure we'll also be stuck with each other in heaven, unfortunately."

Damon laughs. "I wear too much black to go to heaven, Stefan, and you have a motorcycle. Something tells me God isn't too fond of vampire bikers. But if it's the train to hell we end up in, I'll make sure we're in the same carriage, along with a supply of blood bags for the ride."

"Thanks for the assurance, Damon," Stefan says, chuckling.

"You're welcome, brother."

No words are said after that, and Stefan watches Damon climb up the stairs at vampire speed. Truth be told, he has no idea what will happen now that Elena's switch is off, but all he can do is hold on to hope. He finishes the nearly empty-glass of Damon's bourbon.

It seems fitting, considering the progress they just made.


Damon changes into his nightclothes, doing so as quickly as he can. Usually he sleeps with much less clothing, but now he's in black drawstring pants, leaving his upper body bare. As he climbs into bed with Elena, he's reminded of the sire bond, but he doesn't really care anymore.

At this point, he just wants to hold her as closely as he can, sire bond be damned. Besides, this is a special circumstance.

He knows she needs him more than ever.

He slips under the covers carefully. Elena has evidently turned in her sleep, her back facing him now. He pulls her just a tiny bit closer, but her resulting movement surprises the heck out of him. Before Damon can do anything, Elena has already turned again, both of them now facing each other.

She snuggles securely into him, burying her nose against the skin of his chest. She whispers a quick hi to him, and it would have been inaudible if he were human. She follows that up with, "Please go to sleep, Damon."

Ruled almost by instinct now, he wraps his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He whispers goodnight, as he's done so many times before, and then closes his eyes. Once more that night, hope blooms in his heart.

Damon knows it will probably be hard to get her back, but at least he's sure of her eventual salvation.

To him, that's all that really matters.


A/N So, expand? And I'd love to hear your thoughts! Thanks also to the six welcome-back PMs I received for the most recent chapter I posted. You know who you are, awesome peeps, and I love you beyond words.