A/N: I'm so incredibly sorry it took so long to get this out. Life got in the way. This wasn't my favorite chapter to write, but it was a necessary one. Keep the feedback coming! And thank you all for reading, favoriting, and following.

Chapter 10

"Pregnancy hormone?" Damon's face contorted with rage. He yanked the bottle out of Elena's hands and threw it with all his vampire strength. It crashed against the wall and shattered into pieces, clear liquid falling in rivulets down the wooden panels.

Elena flinched almost imperceptibly but otherwise made no outward sign of noticing the outburst. She seemed almost catatonic as the knowledge of what this medication could mean washed over her. Damon's chest felt tight. He wanted to comfort her, but he didn't know how. He sat, helpless, not knowing how he could help and unable to do anything about their predicament.

Finally, after agonizing minutes where Damon felt like he was going to explode, Elena laughed. Just once. It was inexplicable and jarring. She was obviously in shock. Damon grabbed her hand and she yanked her head up to him in surprise, as if she had forgotten he was even there.

"I guess we know why he needs Matt now. And why he needs to be off vervain. He's going to compel us to have sex, breed us like dogs." Elena's eyes were dead as she spoke. Her hand lay heavy and unresponsive in Damon's grasp.

"No, Elena, I don't think that's what Klaus has in mind exactly." Damon said and Elena looked up at him, a smidgen of hope returning some of the life to her face.

"Did you happen to see something that looked like a turkey baster when you were in that hospital room?" Damon asked far too casually, all the while messaging Elena's hands with his own.

A light bulb seemed to go off in Elena's head. "Oh God. Artificial insemination. Of course," Elena spoke aloud, but not at him. The wheels were clearly spinning in her head. "How can you be certain that's what he has in mind?" she asked.

Damon shrugged noncommittally. "That's what I would do. It's less messy, more precise. Easily repeatable…" he trailed off. Then, "Elena, I…"

Refocusing, Elena looked at Damon. Really looked this time. She was starting to come back to herself now. Her almond shaped mahogany eyes and perfect chestnut hair were a vision, and despite everything, he couldn't help but want to kiss her. He must have pictured doing just that, because Elena squeezed his hand and smiled, then leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek. "What were you going to say?" she asked.

Damon didn't know how to phrase it, but the thought had tumbled into his head and now he had to get it out. He knew that her very essence was maternal. She was compassionate and loving to an impossible degree. He could envision her as a mother. She would be great at it. The best. But it's something she would never have if she were to stay with him. Or Stefan, for that matter. It's something she must have thought about by now, but they had never discussed it. Why would they have? Maybe she had talked to Stefan about it when they were together, but he wasn't privy to any of that.

He breathed deeply and gathered his courage. "Maybe it's something you should consider. I mean, if a kid is something you think you may want. I mean, Donovan wouldn't be the worst dad. His pay check probably won't be the greatest, but…" He tried to lighten the mood, like what he was suggesting wasn't killing him a little. If she agreed, he would probably lose her. She would have this kid and want to raise it with its father. She would come to realize that she couldn't have any vampires in her life, not when she was trying to protect a small child. Her heart would be consumed by another and there would be no room left in it for him.

But if this is what she really wanted, then he would gladly leave and let her have her happy ending. All he wanted was for her to be happy.

Elena was overwhelmed with emotions. She pulled her hands from Damon's grasp and began absentmindedly playing with the hem of her shirt. So many feelings were running through her head. Rage at Klaus, frustration at their helpless circumstances, fear at the possibility of becoming a teenage mother, and sorrow that if it had to happen that it wouldn't be with the person she chose. And then Damon had to go and open his big mouth and be the voice of reason when reason was the last thing she wanted at the moment.

A loud and angry sob wrenched out of her mouth followed by ugly tears she could no longer contain. Damon reached over and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest and rocking her. He ran his fingers down her hair and told her in the gentlest of voices, "Just let it out. It's ok to cry. Everything's going to be ok."

But she knew that wasn't true, and crying wasn't going to help anything. She allowed herself a few more moments in his arms before she sat up shaking her head. Damon immediately reached for her face and tenderly wiped away her remaining tears.

"I don't want this, Damon. I don't want to be a mom before I've even finished high school. And being a mother in general isn't something I'm even sure about. Not anymore. Maybe before, when I thought I was just a typical girl next door…" she trailed off, shaking her head again, trying to physically rattle her thoughts into place, "but I'm not. I never will be again. I'm the doppelganger."

She reached over and placed both hands on either side of Damon's face, heart quivering slightly as she noticed the wisps of raven black hair falling over his forehead, making him look even more rakishly handsome than usual. "Besides, I want to be with you, Damon. I may not have been sure about it before, but I'm sure about it now. I've never wanted anything more." She looked down, bashful for a moment at the presumptuousness of her words. Maybe he didn't feel the same way after all. Either way, she knew, for her anyway, that it was true, and it's with that certainty that she found the courage to continue. "And if that choice means that I don't get to be a mother someday, then so be it. Lots of women can't have babies for various reasons. You play the cards your dealt."

With every word she spoke, Elena became more convinced of what she was saying. She meant it. She didn't need to be a mom. She just needed Damon. "And although I'm sure Matt will make a great dad, padded pay check or no," she smirked, "I think he'd rather experience that with someone who loves him as much as I love you."

As she spoke, Damon's frown turned into a small smile and widened until it nearly lit the room. Her heart swelled and she couldn't take it any longer. She was tired of fantasies and visions. She wanted the real thing. She pulled him close and kissed him full on the lips, tasting and touching. Feeling his velvety soft lips on hers. Shivers ran all through her body as she deepened the kiss. She entangled her fingers in his hair and moved to straddle him on the edge of the bed. His arms enveloped her, pulling her closer. She let herself get lost in the moment, pushing out all the worry and all the fear. Yes, she didn't need to be a mother. Not now, not ever. Not when being with Damon made her feel like this. She was soaring and not even Klaus could bring her down from the clouds.

Damon reluctantly pulled Elena off of him and physically sat her down on the floor. The look of hurt and confusion that crossed her face nearly knocked him over. He cupped her cheek with his hand and ran the pad of his thumb over her lips. "I could kiss these lips every day for forever."

"Then do it," Elena said, stepping closer again.

Damon shook his head. "Not yet. If we're going to get you out of this, we need a plan."

At that moment, a piece of paper appeared beside him on the bed, as if his very words had conjured it out of thin air. Damon glanced suspiciously between the paper and Elena. "That wasn't there just a second ago, right?"

Elena's face lit up. "Bonnie," she breathed, a shadow of a smile playing across her beautiful lips. She grabbed for the paper and wrenched it open. Sure enough, it was a note written in Bonnie's delicate script.

Elena,

Elijah contacted me. He knows what Klaus is up to, and He wants to help. I believe him. He says Klaus daggered Rebecca, and he can no longer forgive him for his continued betrayals. He brought me Esther's grimoire, so now I have the desiccation spell in its entirety. I'm ready. I just need Damon to make contact with Klaus's heart. If you guys can do that, I can take care of the rest. Please be safe.

Bonnie

Damon read over Elena's shoulder, then jerked the paper out of Elena's hands and reread the note before ripping it into tiny pieces and letting them flutter to the floor. His thoughts were racing. It wasn't fear of Klaus exactly that had him all worked up. No, he was ready to face the beast, win or lose. It was more that if Damon was going to face him, he wanted the best odds, the most favorable conditions possible. Granted, Damon knew those conditions were never likely going to be good, but trusting Elijah? They'd tried that before, and look where that had gotten them. Fool me once, Asshole.

"Tell me what you're thinking," Elena's voice suddenly permeated his thoughts.

"I'm thinking that we're fucking idiots if we trust this original asswipe with anything," Damon angry whispered.

Elena flinched. He could see the hope in her eyes. They had been dull and dead moments before and now they were full of light and life again. Bonnie's note had brought her fully back to herself, and here he was taking that hope away. "What choice do we have?" she asked measuredly.

Damon just looked at her, baffled.

"Well?" she asked, eyebrows raised. "Do you have a better idea?"

Damon sighed and closed the gap between them. It had felt more like an abyss than the distance of just a couple of feet. He rested his forehead to hers and gently shook his head. "No," he breathed, "I don't."

"Then let's do this," Elena said as she tugged on his shirt for emphasis, optimism flowing out of her. "It'll work. I know it will. We'll survive this. We always survive." And then she kissed him.

Damon didn't say anything. He let her kiss him. He pushed away the doubt and the fear of losing her. He pushed away his mistrust of Elijah. He pushed away his powerlessness at the situation and his rage at Klaus. He pushed it all far, far away and just let himself be kissed.

Elena lay cradled in the crook of Damon's arm. She could feel him awake beside her, clearly agitated, and she knew she should say something to calm him. But Elena was just so tired. She had been since she had returned from her visit with Dr. Bedford. Maybe a side effect from the meds? She tried to review the plan that they had discussed in hushed whispers just minutes ago. She tried to think of every possible scenario, but her thoughts became jumbled as Damon stroked his fingers through her hair and before she even realized it, she had fallen into a deep and peaceful sleep.

When she awoke, she was no longer in one of Klaus's beautifully adorned guest suites, but instead she was standing in a lush, green yard surrounded by a white picket fence. A plantation era house with a massive wrap-around porch stood behind her, and when she looked down, she realized she was attired in a dress that Scarlett O'Hara herself might have worn in Gone with the Wind. Her long, mahogany hair was twisted up and expertly pinned in an intricate chignon, and to top it all off, she carried a parasol. Really, a flippin' parasol?

As Elena turned to fully take in her surroundings, she caught sight of Damon striding purposefully toward her, smiling ear to ear. It was clearly Damon, but he was different. In appearance, yes, but it was more than that. She took in his curly hair and felt her heart do a little flip. He was still as handsome as ever. Even the washed out gray of his Confederate uniform couldn't stifle his beauty or hide the familiar muscular build that she knew lay underneath. This time it wasn't just her heart that flipped. She felt the familiar heat encompass her belly, and she had to look away for a moment. When she returned her eyes to his face, that's when she really noticed it. Damon's eyes, the same piercing sky blue, were alight with life. And his smile was so open and undeterred. Elena's breath hitched and she suddenly felt like crying. He'd lost so much becoming a vampire. This Damon had been so alive.

"Hey you!" he said, reaching her finally and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Hi," Elena forced a laugh that quickly became real. His happiness was contagious and she wanted to enjoy it. "Well, I think it's safe to say that this vision is definitely a product of your subconscious," she said, sweeping an arm out to indicate their surroundings.

"It's not a vision," Damon said, smirking. "At least, not of the witchy variety."

"It's not," Elena tensed. Was this Klaus? She hated that her first thoughts were always of him, always suspicious and fearful.

"No, it's a dream vision. I'm controlling it."

"Like the dream you gave Rose?" Elena asked, voice full of wonder and curiosity now that her fears had been allayed.

"Exactly. Behind you," he nodded his head at the house. "That was our house growing up."

Elena looked on, awestruck. It was hard to reconcile the beautiful home in front of her with the ruins Stefan had shown her. That felt like ages ago now.

"Now come along," Damon was saying. "I've got lots to show you."

And just like that they were inside a crowded room full of people. The women wore immaculate dresses similar to hers. The men were either in period tuxedos or military apparel. Many people milled about the room, but several couples were also dancing in the central part of the room.

"Welcome to the Lockwood Plantation, Elena. This is the first Founder's Ball."

Elena's eyes widened. She couldn't believe what she was seeing, what she was experiencing. The last chords of the song played and the dance came to an end. The couples clapped, and a new song was recommended. Several people dispersed, but others began to line up for a new dance.

"May I have this dance?" Damon asked, taking Elena's hand and bowing.

Elena curtsied. "It would be my pleasure to dance with you, kind sir, but I'm afraid I may not know the steps."

"Ah, but I happen to know that you do know this dance. In fact, we have danced it together before." Damon moved them in line with the other couples and held up his right hand as the music began.

Elena felt dizzy with desire. She couldn't help but remember their first dance, when he had saved her at the Miss Mystic Falls pageant. He'd swooped in all devilishly handsome in his tuxedo and rescued her, the damsel in distress, from certain humiliation. Their eyes had locked and she had been unable – or unwilling – to look away. Elena remembered being ashamed at her reaction. At her inability to ignore his sexiness. How he'd made her heart race and her panties moisten. How he had made her feel happy despite everything terrible that was happening. She was having the same reaction now.

As then unexpectedly, Damon spun her, and their surroundings changed. Suddenly, she was standing atop a hill overlooking a wooded area. Shafts of sunlight broke through the trees at intervals, and she could just make out a stream in the distance. Birds sang and insects chirped away. The location was nothing if not serene. "Where are we now?" she asked.

Damon came up to stand behind her, no longer wearing his dress black. He looked much less formal now in trousers, suspenders, and a button up white shirt that was open at the collar. His curls were unruly on his head and she longed to run her fingers through them. She felt her nipples harden inside her bodice, and she wondered briefly how difficult it would be to disrobe with all this extra material to contend with. Good thing this isn't real, she thought as she stepped toward Damon and entwined her fingers in his hair, no longer able to withstand the urge to keep her hands to herself.

Damon smiled a smug smile. But instead of kissing her like she longed to be kissed, he said, "This land was part of my family's estate. It's where I always envisioned I'd build my home. Raise a family." For the first time since they'd entered the fantasy, Damon's eyes grew sad and distant. Elena knew he was thinking of all the things he'd never gotten to have. All the things that Katherine had torn away from him. That bitch! Anger flared in Elena's chest. She thought about asking Damon to conjure Katherine simply so she could gouge her eyes out.

But then Damon pulled himself out of his funk, grabbed her hand and turned, leading her further up the hill to where it leveled off. In front of them, where it hadn't been before, stood a quaint Victorian house, somewhat smaller in stature than the Salvatore family home, but no less grand. It was beautiful. White with blue shutters. A large staircase leading up to a decent sized front porch.

As they approached the imposing wooden front door, a Christmas wreath appeared, decorated with red ribbon and a brass bell. Damon turned the knob and walked in with the authority of one who lived there. Inside, the front room contained a fireplace complete with a roaring fire and homemade red stockings proclaiming 'Damon' and 'Elena' in white stitching. The furniture was antique by Elena's standards but had probably been new and stylish at the time, and discarded in an elaborate arm chair near the fire sat a ball of red yarn and knitting needles threaded through what she could tell was a miniature stocking. A baby's stocking.

No sooner had she noticed the sewing project, than she realized she now sported a large, swollen belly. Elena looked at Damon in shock. He held her gaze with a rueful smile. Then he took her hand and led her up the front staircase. Garland festooned the railing and festive Christmas decorations alighted shelves and book cases on the landing. All in all, the home felt happy, unburdened. Damon led her through one of several closed doors, and Elena stopped dead in her tracks as she took in the sight. A baby bed, a rocking chair, a seesaw horse. All hand made. Elena felt tears welling up in her eyes. So many emotions were fighting inside of her that it was hard to decipher what they all meant.

Elena turned back toward Damon, longing to see his face, to work out what he was thinking and feeling in this moment, but when she turned, they were back outside on the hill. The house was still there, no Christmas wreath adorning the door this time. She turned and behind her found a large red barn. She could smell the earthy scent of horses and hay and was momentarily mystified by a young girl with Damon's raven black hair pulling a pony out of the barn. She couldn't have been more than five, and she wore trousers that appeared to be several sizes too large under a thin cotton dress. When she smiled, Elena's heart stopped. It was the same half smile that Damon often sported, and it was directed right at her.

"I love my new pony, Momma," the girl said to Elena. "Just promise me I don't have to share him with Jack."

Elena's mouth gaped open, but words were unforthcoming. Damon stepped in. "Jack's too little to ride, Sweetheart. The pony is all yours for the time being. What will you call him?"

The girl's eyes widened with delight. "Princess!" she responded gleefully.

"But it's a boy pony, Darling." Damon chided.

The little girl laughed and shrugged. Then, relinquishing the pony's leash to Damon, she ran back toward the barn hollering, "I'm going to get Princess a carrot!"

As soon as she was out of sight the vision shifted again. This time, Elena found herself in a library, staring out a large window into a yard. She must have been inside their home because beyond the yard, she could see the same red barn she'd been standing by just moments before. It was much the same, only this time a fence sectioned off a space in front of the barn, Little Princess stood munching in its confines. In the yard, Damon ran chasing a young brunette boy who carried a football. Suddenly, the boy fell and began to cry. Damon was there in a heartbeat checking for wounds and holding the boy while he cried. She could see he was whispering soothing words of comfort as he stroked the boy's hair.

Beside her, a strangled laugh startled Elena. She turned to find a young girl of about thirteen or so standing beside her. It was the little girl from before, only a little more grown up. This time she wore a proper dress, and her hair was curled and pinned. She held a book in one hand and the other rested on her hip. She was gazing out the window at the boys, too. "He will never toughen up if you and Father keep babying him so," she complained.

When Elena returned her gaze to the window, the boy was standing up and brushing off his trousers. Damon tapped him on the arm and ruffled his straight brown hair – her hair, she realized – until it stuck up all over the place. Then the boy grabbed the ball from Damon's unsuspecting grasp and took off at a break neck pace, obviously undeterred by his recent fall.

"I don't know," Elena said. "He seems to be doing alright to me." But when she turned back to smile at the girl – her daughter – she was gone. Damon stood in her place, and she realized with a start that he looked older. He was aging. She wondered vaguely if she was, too, and looked down at her hands for confirmation. No wrinkles. No age spots. Just smooth, olive toned skin.

"What is all this, Damon?" she asked. For some reason she couldn't quite put her finger on, Elena felt sad. She knew she shouldn't feel that way. Everything he was showing her was beautiful, the pure definition of a happy life. But it wasn't real. It could never be real.

Damon shrugged, looking wistful. "I guess I just wanted you to see me. The real me. And what could have been. You know, if…"

He trailed off, and Elena stepped toward him before he could pick up the thought again. Grabbing his face in both her hands, she stood on her tip toes and looked him directly in the eyes. "I do see you, Damon. I do. And I know we would have been happy then, but we're going to be happy now, too…in our own way."

And when Elena leaned in to kiss him, the vision dissolved completely. She sat up with a start. Damon sat stark straight beside her on high alert. Klaus was at the door, leaning amiably against the door jamb like an old friend. "Well, isn't this cozy?" he smiled with all the prickliness of a porcupine. And all the leftover warmth the dream vision had infused within Elena – the warmth that had been making her feel safe and happy and at peace – vanished at the mere sight of him.

Elena leveled a glare at him, refusing to be intimidated. "What do you want Klaus?" she asked.

"Breakfast, my Lovelies, breakfast. Chop, chop," he clapped his hands and made to walk out of the room. "Oh, I almost forgot. I will leave you with an escort for when you are ready. So you don't get lost. It's a big house and all that." Then, leaning a little into the hallway, Klaus called, "Oh, Matt."

Matt appeared in the doorway, jaw clenched and hands fisted at his sides.

"There, there, be a good boy," Klaus was saying. Then he leaned in and made direct eye contact with Matt. "When our guests are ready, please escort them to the dining room. No talking, now." He patted Matt on the back and walked out, leaving Damon and Elena staring in his wake.

Elena immediately ran to Matt. "Are you ok? Did he hurt you?"

Matt shook his head, but otherwise didn't respond.

"Has he made you do anything?"

Matt nodded.

"Well, what?!" Elena nearly yelled, getting exasperated.

Matt just shrugged looking a bit annoyed himself.

When Elena felt ready to bash his head in, Damon stepped in. "He's compelled, Elena. This is a demonstration. The vervain is out of his system and Klaus wants us to know it. You won't get anything else out of him. Unless you know sign language?" Damon added hopefully to Matt.

Matt shook his head again.

"Of course not. Just because you're dumb doesn't mean you're deaf and dumb. It was too much to ask."

Elena punched Damon playfully in the arm. "We don't have time for this," she murmured. In fact, they didn't have time for anything. If Matt was off the vervain and could be compelled, that meant Klaus would promptly initiate his plan to impregnate Elena. There was no prolonging the inevitable. She and Damon would have to put their hastily concocted plan into action. If only so much weren't riding on chance, she thought. If their plan failed, then Elena would be pregnant, and she would likely become Klaus's prisoner for the duration of her pregnancy. She understood innately that he wouldn't trust her not to terminate the pregnancy, and therefore wouldn't allow her out of his sight. And Damon? Well, if their plan failed, then Damon would likely be dead. Or worse.

Elena pushed the thoughts away. She couldn't dwell on it. If she dwelled then she would get scared, and that wouldn't do anyone any good. She had to be brave. She steeled herself, turned to Damon and reached for his hand. With one small squeeze, she said, "Let's get this over with," and determinedly followed Matt out the door.