N: So…finally the moment came for us all to say goodbye to this story. *moment of quite grieving* It's been great guys, I appreciate all your support and kind words, they helped my through some really tough times. Hopefully you will find it in your hearts to leave one last review for me.

Once this is finished, I will go back to the story "Target:Love"

Also, I wanted to let you know that I am back on fanfiction, writing for our favourite couple (DE). I already posted a new short story called "Finding Damon" and two one-shots "Ending with Hope" & "Memories of the Heart" if you guys are interested, please do read them and drop me a few words.

One last thing and I will allow you to go read the very last chapter. I am working on a new story (AU/AH) similar style to this one, but I will only start posting when I get at least half way to finish it, but keep an eye out, it will be called "Don't Judge a Book by its Cover" and as usual, it is DE.

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When Damon came storming through the door Elena dropped the eyeliner. It fell with a soft 'clank' on the floor, but she ignored it, her attention focused on the man that had just walked in. He was wearing a simple back suit, but Elena thought that what he wore made little to no difference, for her he would always be the most beautiful, sexy man she's ever laid eyes upon.

"Winter's here," he said and took off his leather gloves placing them on the small table at the end of the hallway. He passed his hand through his raven black hair and took off his coat. She didn't move, her eyes still glued to the mirror, watching his every move. "I just talked to Stefan, Anna's enjoying Paris," she smiled even if she knew he wasn't watching. "The new secretary is amazing, she does everything, I don't even know why I need to go to work. I am telling you, the woman can run for President. Do they have an age limit? I am pretty sure she is over 50, but I refuse to not be a gentleman and ask," he went on about his day and Mr. Vanderword spilled coffee on his desk and that he will have to get a plant for the office because it looked too depressing. Elena just listened to him without a word.

"Is everything ok?" Damon asked once he realized Elena wasn't paying too much attention to what he was saying. Finally she turned around to look at him.

"Damon," she started.

"Yes?"

"Who do you see when you look at me?" she asked in a way that made Damon think that she's been holding on to the question for a while.

Elena bent and grabbed the eyeliner from the floor for pure need to hold on to something. She started twirling it in her hand, waiting for Damon to answer. After the events from Election Day, everything happened so fast. She woke up a few hours later in a hospital room with the Salvatore family all around her. They all looked at her like she was some sort of alien.

***DE***

Stefan was the first one to speak.

"Everyone, this is Elena Gilbert," he said and she smiled. She tried to lift her hand, but she realized soon enough it caused her too much pain. She let out a moan and that was when Damon stepped from behind his brother and Rebekah and made his way towards the bed.

"The bullet passed through your right shoulder. The doctor says it didn't touch the muscle so you should be healing really fast," he explained and she nodded. Tears started pouring from her face and she felt stupid for not being able to control her emotions.

"You're ok," again, the impulse to reach him and feel him and make sure he was real was stronger than her pain. Before she had the chance to move her hand, Damon grabbed it and gave it a firm squeeze.

"I am," he smiled sadly. "Thanks to you."

There were a few minutes of silence before she asked "what happened? I don't really remember much, the man, there was a tall man with white hair."

"His name is Damon Arcciano," this time it was Damon's mother who spoke and Elena directed her attention to her. She looked old and tired as if she just spent a week crying. "He was Giuseppe's best friend, they came together to America when they were sixteen. They served in the military together. Giuseppe had been taken prisoner and Damon came back. He took care of me," she wiped her tears. Stefan made an attempt to console her, but she moved away. "We waited for two years before anything happened. About a year after, Giuseppe came back. I was already pregnant with you," she looked at Damon. "Damon was getting ready to leave with his station. Giuseppe convinced him to change stations and join his. They both left a few weeks after you were born. They stayed enough to pick a name. Only one came back."

"Dad," Stefan offered.

"Yes, they told us Damon and he had been separated and that Damon's plane crushed and there was no way he could've survived," she took a few deep breaths before continuing. "Giuseppe and I got married. I wasn't allowed the luxury of mourning Damon; mourning the father of my first born. As far as everyone was concerned, you were Giuseppe's son. He paid a lot of money to make sure that all the papers had my name as your mother and his name as your father. Ah, it's all my fault," she sobbed. "I should've known that Giuseppe's ego would never get over our affair_"

"It wasn't an affair ma, it had been two years, it was during war," Damon said, but his mother didn't seem to be listening.

At that moment the door opened and Damon Arcciano entered. He asked the second man to wait outside, got in and closed the door behind him. He got the same looks Elena did from everyone accept the still sobbing woman. Antonella turned around and immediately her eyes filled with new tears.

"I need a word with Miss. Gilbert," he said and made his way towards the bed. Elena tried to push herself in a sitting position, she didn't feel like talking to an FBI agent lying on a hospital bed. She allowed Damon to help her up and she mumbled a soft thank you.

"How can I help you?" Elena asked.

"You spotted me, didn't you?"

She shrugged, "Reporter eyes, remember," she said and he nodded. "Giuseppe got on the FBI radar because Mrs. Petrova had been under surveillance, he was the one who helped her reinvent herself, you see. Not because of something she did," he said quickly seeing the look in Damon's eyes. Now that Elena had time to look at them both side by side, she couldn't believe she had missed the resemblance. "We kept an eye on Mrs. Petrova because_"

"Petrova?" Caroline asked.

"It was Katherine's name before she changed it to Peirce."

"Peirce, Katherine's old name."

"My deceased wife."

Came three answers from Antonella, Damon and Elena. "You told him," Elena asked and Antonella nodded.

"Yes, just now, outside. I told him I felt sorry for yelling at you for all the horrible things Katherine has done," she smiled, but the smile didn't reach her eyes, just like her son. "I am sorry."

"I know, don't worry about it."

"We were keeping an eyes on her because of a few people she had been in contact with. But it turned out she stopped seeing most of them after she became Katherine Peirce. How long have you know Damon's life was in danger?"

Elena looked at Damon before answering. "Since the beginning. Someone, now I imagine it must've been Giuseppe, came to my room in the hospital as I was recovering from the crash and warned me to keep my mouth shut and that the plan was still on and Damon will not live to take office. After that there was no contact, just some letters. I have them_"

"Yes, it will be useful if you could let us have them, at least for the duration of the trial."

"Of course," Elena said simply. She left them in Alaric's apartment because she was afraid that someone might find them if she kept them at the Salvatore mansion. "Did you catch the shooter?"

"Yes. We have Giuseppe on tape meeting with 'the cleaner' right before your accident. We are very sorry, we lost track of him for a few hours, we got there on time to see him flee the scene after he hit your car Miss. Gilbert."

For some reason Damon was starting to get frustrated with the whole "Miss' thing. She was a married woman. No, wait! Katherine would've been married, but Elena wasn't. He was a widower and Elena was single. 'Elena' the name seemed somehow better than 'Katherine'.

***DE***

Six months had passed since. Elena's wound had healed. Stefan and Caroline had renewed their vows a month ago on a beautiful beach in the Bahamas, Antonella and Damon Arcciano went on their second date last week and Rebekah returned to school. Elena and Damon went on a few dates before Damon proposed and Elena had said 'yes' without a moment of hesitation. Shortly after they moved in together. She did her best not to let herself be bothered by the fact that Damon feel in love with her thinking she was Katherine, that she was still wearing his wife's face.

Damon cleared his throat. "What I see when I look at you is," he paused for a second. "The woman who saved my daughter and I am not talking just about the accident. I see the woman who put her life at risk to protect my family. I see the woman that helped me become Senator. I see the woman who saved my life."

"That's not what I mean."

"I am not done. When I look at you, I see the woman I love."

"But I look like her!"

"You are nothing like her and you know it. Elena," he kneeled in front of her chair and grabbed her hand. "You can't possible think that when I look at you I see my late wife. She plotted to have me killed." Elena titled her head. He made a good point. "I didn't fall in love with how you look like, I feel in love with who you are, who you've always been. Elena Gilbert, I fell in love with you before I even knew your name," he kissed her right hand over her engagement ring and Elena felt shivers go down her spine. She was being stupid. A simple look into his eyes and she could see that he was telling the truth, he could see how much he loved her.

About an hour later the eyeliner was once again resting on the floor along with Elena's and Damon's clothes.

"I love you, Elena Gilbert," Damon said kissing her forehead.

"Not for long."

"What?"

"I won't be Gilbert for long."

"Well, now that I think about it, Elena Salvatore does have a better ring to it," he said and kissed her before she had the chance to say anything.