I picked Elena up and carried her back into the room, kicking the door closed behind me. She felt so fragile in my arms as she sobbed. I laid her down on the bed, climbed in next to her and pulled her as tightly to me as I could while she continued to cry. Each sob, each tear drop broke my heart just a little more. There were no words. We both knew how this story ended. There would be no miracle this time, short of Klaus knocking on the door and offering up a vial of his blood. So, I just held her, kissed her, rubbed circles on her back, soothed her, until at last, she fell asleep.

I watched her as she slept, memorizing every line on her face, every freckle, the shape of her lips, of her eyes, the way her eyelashes brushed her cheek, everything that was Elena. Eventually, her sleep became restless. Whether from pain or her dreams, I wasn't sure, but I was determined to do what I could to ease her suffering. I pushed my way into her dream and began to shape it into something more pleasant.

The first stop on the Elena Gilbert Happy Memory tour was Bree's bar in Atlanta, the destination of our first road trip. That trip was the first time I saw Elena for herself, not as a way to get back at Stefan, not as Katherine's double, but as the kind, caring, fun girl that was pure Elena. In all honesty, it's probably when I began to fall for her, even though she was still with Stefan at the time. I recreated that day for her and was rewarded with a huge smile when she realized what was going on. We played pool, did tequila shots and took one of our famous five minute time-outs. I lost track of how much time I kept her in that dream, only altering it when she became restless again.

When her dream world came into focus again, I had Elena standing in front of the Salvatore ancestral home in Florence, Italy. We had planned on making it the first stop of our European tour. Instead, I would have to show her this way. I took her hand and led her up the sweeping steps and through the massive mahogany door. I smiled at the wonder on her face as she looked all around, taking in the marble floors and columns and the huge staircases that started in the entryway and gracefully flowed up to the second floor.

I gave Elena the grand tour, laughing as she ran around exploring the massive villa. I imagined it was what an eight-year-old, princess-obsessed Elena would have been like. Of course, every princess deserves to have a ball in her honor. The last stop on our tour was the ballroom. Just before I threw open the double doors leading to it, I kissed her senseless. When she finally pulled back and opened her eyes, I had tinkered with the dream again, dressing her in a sapphire blue gown and me in my solid black Armani tux. After opening the doors, I held my hand out to her and led her to the center of the room. Seemingly out of nowhere, music filled the room and I waltzed her around the ballroom, reminding us both of the first time we danced. I kept the music going, kept us dancing for what seemed liked hours.

When I sensed her becoming restless again, I knew it was time to change things up again. Taking her hand, I spun her out and then back in again, dipping her low. Instead of pulling her back up, I lowered her more, until she found herself reclining in a lounge chair on a beach, looking out at the ocean. I stretched out in the chair next to hers and waiting for recognition to hit her.

"Damon! Are we where I think we are?" Her eyes lit up at the possibility.

"Well, if you think we are on 'our' island in the South Pacific, then, yep, that's exactly where we are."

After her college graduation, I had brought her to this island owned by the friend of a friend of a friend. We spent a month there, totally alone, supplies delivered to us twice a week by boat. Neither of us had wanted to go home at the end of the month. We had so many good memories of our time on the island, I just wanted to give her one more.

I know, I could have stopped controlling her dreams and let her wake up, had a real conversation with her. But, I knew what she would face, excruciating pain and hallucinations. Been there, done that. There was no way I was going to let her go through that if I could help it. Anything that I wanted to say to her could be said in her dreams.

The ocean breeze, the sun warming our bodies, the sound of the surf, it was all so relaxing and any other time, I would have happily drifted off to sleep, holding my girl's hand. However, this time, what I had to say was too important, time was too precious and fleeting. I took the cocktail she was sipping from her hand and set the glass in the sand next to my own.

"Come on," I said, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. "Let's take a walk."

I led her down to the water's edge, our hands entwined. It was a repeat of another happy memory for us, a reminder of the daily walks we had taken. We walked to our favorite spot, a small cove, surrounded by palm trees providing some shelter from the breeze. When I stopped walking, tugging her toward me, she gave me a look of confusion, not knowing what was about to happen. I took both of her hands in one of mine, placing them over my heart, which would have been pounding in my chest had I still been human.

"Elena, I love you. Only you. I want to spend the rest of my eternity with you, whether it is five hours, five years or five centuries."

I had a speech prepared, I really did. One look at her beautiful smile, her bright shining eyes, the lone tear slowly slipping down her cheek and that speech was forgotten.

In that dark hotel room, I pulled the blue velvet box from my jacket pocket. In her dream, that same box materialized in my hand. I thumbed it open, revealing the ring inside, a round blue topaz, surrounded by diamonds in a platinum setting.

"Elena, I can't imagine my life without you and I don't want to. Please don't make me live it alone. Please, baby, say you'll marry me. Spend every second you have left on this earth with me. Let me spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you."

For what might be the only time in her life, Elena Gilbert was speechless. The joy on her face, her arms thrown around my neck, the kiss that left me breathless were answer enough.

"Yes, yes, yes! Damon, I will marry you!" she said, finally finding her voice.

I slid the ring on her finger, in her dream and in that hotel room, kissing it on her finger as I did.

She was absolutely beaming as we walked back down the beach. She kept looking down at her finger, admiring her ring. I told her the story of the ring, how it had been my mother's. My father had picked the stone because it reminded him of my mother's eyes, eyes that were so much like mine.

She stopped on the beach, gazed out at the sunset, speaking without looking at me.

"Damon, I think it's time for us to go home."

A/N - Thanks so much for sticking with me on this, dear readers. I know it's been a sad, depressing read. I promise, it's affected me just as much. Many tears were shed over this chapter and the next, but I think they were worth it. On a more positive note, this story is completely written, as of this afternoon. There will be four more chapters after this one. Can't wait to see what you think! Please, leave a review in that little box below. Thanks! ~ craftyjhawk