A/N - Hi! A few people have messaged me to say they weren't getting alerts. So you may not have seen the chapter before this which was updated last week (I think). So I would just check first before reading this chapter :)
Damon groaned as he rolled over onto his side. Only four hours until he had to get up and ready for work but he could not stay asleep. This case just kept getting stranger and scarier, and now he didn't just have a professional interest in the case; it was personal.
Stefan had made it clear that he believed Elena had more knowledge about the killings than she was letting on and of course, Ric could see his point. In a way, so could Damon. These killings were related to her family's rehabilitation centre and whether she remembered or not, she was involved.
He tossed and turned for most of the night, hoping that the answer would just appear in a lightbulb moment. It never did.
He reached for his glass and climbed out of bed. There was no point in lying around and not sleeping when he could use the time to work. He quietly crept out of his room and headed towards the bathroom, but a glimmer of light from his spare room caught his eye.
He peeked his head around the bedroom door and his heart sighed at the tragically beautiful scene before him. Quietly, he moved across to the other side of the room where Elena had made herself a makeshift bed with blankets and a cushion, his dog curled up at her feet. Not wanting to wake her, he carefully lifted her and held her gently against his chest. Her head lolled against him as she visibly relaxed in his arms. She was cold against his warmth. He held her longer than he needed to before laying her down in the big bed and wrapping her up with the duvet and blankets from the floor.
"I'm scared, Damon," she whimpered just as he went to leave the room. "I'm scared I'll be next."
"They'd have to get through me first," he smirked to try and lighten her mood but the dimming twinkle in her eyes told him it was no time for laughter. "I won't let anything happen to you 'Lena. I promise you."
"Can you stay with me?"
He looked over his shoulder to his bedroom, wanting to do the right thing by her and he didn't know if climbing into her bed was that.
"Please," her voice almost cracked just as his ability to say no to her did.
He lifted the duvet and slid in beside her. He rested his head down on the pillow as she turned to herself to face him, sighing with relief as his protection seemed to envelope her.
"Tell me a story," she smiled as she rolled closer to him. "Distract me."
"How about a confession instead?" He laughed and she nodded, encouraging him to continue. "Do you remember the first time we met? I was just a neighbourhood constable at the time and you had stolen a ham and cheese sandwich from the corner shop."
She buried her head in the pillow out of embarrassment. She'd never been good at any type of criminality but trying to steal a sandwich in front of a police officer was probably her lowest point and Caroline never let her live it down.
"Shocking really, how you chased me for ten minutes and never caught me," she mumbled.
"I wasn't really trying," he shrugged. "But you stopped and offered yourself up for arrest. What type of criminal does that?"
"And you let me go without even a warning. What type of policeman does that?" She giggled.
"Anyway, for some reason, after that, I couldn't get you out of my head. I just kept thinking about you at the most random times, kept imagining your eyes and how you turned bright red when I told you that I should pat you down," he smirked. "I found myself worrying about you. I had to see you again, so I looked in the lost and found box and the station and found that little silver ring and drove straight to the factory to find you."
"You sneak," she laughed. "You told me you thought I may have dropped it when running away from you. I thought it was weird you thought a gutter rat might have owned a ring like that."
"It gave me a reason to come and see you - make sure you were okay," he said. "I put it back in the lost and found box when I got back to the station, of course, but I just needed to see you again and I knew it probably wouldn't look good for you if a policeman just showed up on your doorstep for a chat."
He carefully reached across and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, letting his thumb linger on the warmth of her cheek longer than either of them expected. She reached up and placed her hand on his, keeping his palm firmly cupping her face, almost nuzzling into the safety of it.
"I thought about you a lot too," she admitted. "Especially after the meteor shower. I felt so lonely and broken that night when you found me by the lake."
He listened to her intently as his thumb absent mindedly caressed circles on her cheek.
"You sat next to me for a bit and told me this silly romantic story about the stars. How these two star-crossed lovers lived every day apart and then on the night of the meteor shower, all the birds in the sky would put their wings together so that they could be together for just one night," she smiled at the memory.
"Yeah, I kinda made that story up. I thought it made me sound mysterious and sexy," he laughed.
"I know you did," she grinned. "But I appreciated the effort. After that night, I woke up every morning wishing to bump into you somehow, but I figured you had a wife, kids, the perfect life. You were just a wish for me. So I felt kinda stupid walking to the cornershop every day just in hope of bumping into you when you went for your coffee or hanging around outside the factory just to catch a glimmer of your car as you drove to and from work. A bit pathetic. A bit silly of me really."
"'Lena," he whispered her name as his heart squeezed at her words. "That coffee shop sells the worst coffee in all of London and the factory is a twenty minute detour on my route home. I've drank their shit coffee for years and added a good twenty minutes to my commute everyday in the hope of seeing you, even if just for a second."
"I just wanted to be a part of your life."
"I think you are my life, 'Lena."
He nodded his head, unable to say anything more or tear his eyes from her. Everything had gone silent but the sound of their deep, content sighs. Somewhere in the dark silence, they'd shuffled closer to one another and tangled their legs but their gaze never faltered.
She dropped her forehead to rest against his and felt a weird sensation flood her veins, a feeling she hadn't felt in a very long time. Belonging.
"Damon?"
"Hmm?"
"You can kiss me if you'd like," she whispered.
His heart rushed to his throat as a nervous feeling took over him, as if he was a young boy again preparing for his first kiss. He told himself to get a grip, he had kissed women before. But this just wasn't any kiss - this was the first kiss with the first woman he had honest to god feelings for. This was a kiss that could end his career.
"Are you sure?" He asked and she nodded her approval.
"I'm sure."
His eyes scanned her face and he saw no doubt or fear in her. And as he leant in and felt just the beginnings of her lips against his, he smiled. It was her who deepened the kiss and pushed herself closer to him. She cupped his cheeks and held onto him tightly, as if he could disappear in any given second.
His tongue graced her lips as he held her more ferociously, unwilling to let her go now that he finally had her.
She moulded against him as if they were made for one another. As he strayed from her lips to kiss her neck, her cheeks and her eyelids, her soft skin feeling like putty in his hands, he succumbed to the fact that he would, without a shadow of a doubt, lose everything to keep her.
He returned to her lips, secretly enjoying the little moans that escaped her, and softly placed his hands on the small of her back just beneath her shirt.
"I… I…," she stuttered. "I should tell you something."
"Do you want me to stop?" He asked.
"No, but you might want to after I tell you." He brushed his palm against her cheek, too embarrassed to tell her that there wasn't much she could say that'd make him want to stop kissing and touching her. "I've not… you know. Ever. I've not…"
"You've not had sex?" He all but gasped, his hands dropping from her body. "Ever?"
"Why are you so surprised?"
"Well, y'know, a lot of girls who live on the streets are…" he hinted.
"Sex workers? Wow. I don't know if I should be insulted at that," she scoffed. "No, Damon, I've not sold myself for money before."
"'Lena—"
"I was a child when I ran away from home and believe it or not, there's not many guys - decent guys - chopping at the bit to sleep with a gutter rat," she snapped. "Why are you smiling at me?"
"You're cute when you're mad," he grinned. "'Lena, I'm actually beyond thrilled that you're a virgin."
"What? Oh god, Caroline told me about this. Are you one of those guys that has a fetish for virgins because it makes you feel more macho to be the first?" She rolled her eyes and her body away from him until she was staring at the ceiling.
"While that does have a certain excitable impact on me, no, that's not why I'm happy about it," he laughed and tugged her back towards him. "I have lay in bed countless nights terrified of what could be happening to you. Elena, I know what happens to girls on the streets because I see it at work everyday. The thought that someone could have been hurting you in any way like that kept me awake at night. I couldn't bear to think of you in that position, scared, in pain… so yeah I am glad you've not had sex before because it's one more thing I can stop worrying about."
"Oh," she blushed. "Sorry."
He closed the distance between them and collided their lips once again. He loved how she wasn't shy when it came to kissing him. She pulled on him with a force, almost as if she was scared he would stop.
He rolled until he was hovering above her, allowing his lips to trail from her lips to a soft space behind her ear. She let out a little gasp as his tongue swept around her earlobe and the tips of his finger drew circles on her sides.
As his hands began to glide up her sides with slight trepidation, she arched herself into him, pressing herself against his bare skin. She loved the way his hands felt against her, soft and caring but still so full of passion and wanting. She'd dreamt of this many times before, never did she picture it happening for real.
His kiss was the only drug she craved and as he bit down on her lip, every nerve ending in her body lit up. Every time she questioned whether it was real or not, he grazed his undeniable desire against her.
At some stage during her reverie, he'd moved down her stomach, nipping and sucking at the supple skin around her belly button. Gazing up into her eyes, asking for permission which she all too willingly gave, he pushed up her shirt as his lips continued their fevered attack on her stomach. The anticipation built with butterflies as he reached the base of her breasts, an area no man had ever seen before let alone touched.
His tongue dipped out and gently slid across the warm tender skin.
"Elena, you don't realise just how beautiful you are," he muttered against her.
"I want-"
A banging at the front door cut her off and the warm tingly sensations that vibrated through her veins quickly dissipated. Damon's head snapped up and frowned when he saw the early time on the clock.
He pulled down her shirt for cover and tenderly kissed the inside of her trembling hand.
"Hey," he whispered, "you're safe. It's okay. Just stay in here, okay?"
He left her room quickly and closed the door behind him. He knew it was most likely to be someone from work with news about the case, but he couldn't risk Stefan, Trudie, or even worse, his boss, finding out that Elena was now living with him.
He pulled a jumper from the closet before opening the door to his team, all looking wide-eyed and wired. He didn't have a chance to welcome them or ask them any questions, before they barged in with files, documents and coffee.
"Good morning to you too," Damon grumbled as he closed the door behind him. "You're all aware of what time it is, right?"
"Another body has been found, Damon," Stefan sighed as he fell back onto the couch as he had done many times before. "Victoria Jones, once known as Vicki Donovan. Matt Donovan's younger sister. Her husband found her dead in their bed."
"Fuck," Damon growled as he slammed the glass cabinet shut. "We need to continue warning any others that Elena told us about. They need to know they could be in danger. Have the coroners sent over their report from Mystic Falls?"
"Yep," Ric said as he pulled the papers from his case. "Grayson's body was identified by dental records, but it was definitely his body. We can categorically wipe out Grayson from this investigation as we can with a lot of the staff of the hospital, their bodies were identified. A few people Elena mentioned weren't but the coroner said some bodies were so badly burnt and destroyed they could never be identified."
"Who hasn't been identified?"
"Johnathon Gilbert, Jeremy Gilbert, Liz Forbes, Logan Fell, Pastor Young and a few other townspeople who were said to be at the party."
"Look into everyone who wasn't identified. If there is a chance they escaped, we need to know," Damon ordered. "Stefan, call dad. He was investigating the First Healer when he was on the GMC. The hospital had multiple anonymous complaints, let's find out what dad knows about them. He might still have some paperwork."
"I looked into the hospital more," Stefan said. "It's completely empty, partially destroyed, but interestingly the Gilbert house still stands. The deeds were in Grayson's name, passed to Jeremy if he were to pass. With Jeremy also considered dead, the deeds of the house belong to the closest living relative…"
"Elena," Damon finished. "So with her consent, we can search the house. I'll deal with that. Hopefully there is something in that house that leads us to whatever is going on here."
As they continued to build a plan, Trudie excused herself to answer a phone call. She was gone for all of five minutes before busting back into the room, pale as a ghost.
"We have a name," she said. "Bonnie, the DNA from under her fingernails matches with someone on our records. Someone from Mystic Falls - Dr Klaus Mikaelson."
Elena stood at the top of the stairs, unbeknownst to everyone else, and had heard every word of their conversation. She stumbled back against the wall as utter shock drowned her. As she slid down the wall, tears began to fall.
Her last living friend. The one person she knew she could always rely on. The person who had been through everything with her and the only person who could ever really understand what she had been through. Had she let that person go home with a killer?
"Caroline," she cried. "Oh god. Please no, Caroline."