More thanks once again to you guys. I loved all your reviews last chapter, and not only do I have over 100 reviews, I have 100 alerts on this story now. It amazes me to think so many people really want to know how this story ends, so I really want to thank you guys for being interested. It means so much to me. :) I apologise for the mean cliffhanger, but these chapters are verging on epic. I'm trying to keep it cut down a little bit. However, hopefully this should satisfy some of the cravings for D/E action. As always, any comments you have are loved, so don't be afraid to tell me!

"Get your hands off of her."

His voice rang out through the air, a ball of fury and frustration splitting the night. Elena first thought it was simply her imagining things in a wild moment of hope, but when she opened her eyes she saw him. Standing in the doorway, looking like a demon. Demon he may be in some ways, but he was her demon. Elena had never been more relieved. The grip on her throat slackened slightly and Elena drew in a breath whilst she still could. However, his hand was still most definitely on her throat. Damon rolled in like thunder, closing the door behind him.

"I said, get your hands off of her," Damon repeated, barely leashed anger ripping through his body. Elena looked at him, trying to plead with her eyes for him to be careful. She'd rather die herself than see Damon killed saving her. Even seeing him injured trying to save her was hell. Elena knew that this was Damon she was talking about - reckless, impulsive, unpredictable Damon. But a girl could hope. What she had presumed would be her last thought rushed back through her head. 'Damon, I love you.' For a moment, she thought it was just heat of the moment stuff - a desperate plea of a dying girl. But if it was, why did her heart malfunction when she thought of Damon being reckless for her?

"Fine." The word echoed from the man holding her hostage. Now Damon was in the room, she clearly wasn't the priority. He tossed her aside like trash. Elena hit the floor with a thud, smacking the side of her head off of the wooden floor, her tiara coming loose from her hair. Elena groaned slightly, trying to push her face off of the ground. She never saw the millisecond of pain and fury that flashed across Damon's face when he saw her injured. It was just a moment, though. Damon wanted nothing more than to rip his opponent's heart out.

"Who are you?" Damon demanded. The other man smirked.

"It's not really important, Salvatore." Damon rushed at him, and as Elena finally got herself off of the floor, looking up, she saw Damon had him pinned to a wall now. The man didn't even seem bothered by it.

"Well, you seem to know me, so why not return the favour?" Damon suggested, his voice laced with poison. Elena ripped the tiara from her head, watching Damon intently as her head spun.

"It's not a favour."

"And I wasn't asking." Damon informed him. "There at least six ways for me to kill you right now. Don't think for a second I won't choose the slow-and-painful option." The man still didn't speak. "What would you prefer? Burning to death? Inventive use of wood? It'll be the last choice you make."

"Michael. My name is Michael," he choked out past Damon's hands. Elena's legs weren't working properly - they were sore and she was struggling to stand without the world tipping like a boat. She didn't like Damon threatening people. But she also wasn't sure that she wanted to stop him in this instance.

"Good boy, Mikey. Now, what do you want with Katherine?" Damon demanded, his voice running even sweeter. Michael just glared.

"The bitch has to pay," he spat out.

"Old news," Damon told him. "More to the fact, what do you want with Elena?"

"Elena?" The shameless part was that Michael looked honestly confused. Damon lifted a hand from Michael's throat to point at Elena, who was now sitting limply against a wall on the opposite side of the room.

"Ele-"

"Damon!" It was the only thing she could do to warn him. She saw Michael's face shift, the veins around his eyes protruding, fangs exposed. He twisted Damon's arm and forced him to the floor. Elena's shout gave Damon enough time to fight back. He flipped so he was no longer under the other vampire, but it didn't do much. Michael had a stake up his sleeve. It was in Damon's gut before he could even move. Elena tried not to cry out, but she could feel the tears spark in her eyes. Damon. He had to be okay. He had to live. She wouldn't let him die for her.

It looked like he wouldn't need to, as Michael flashed over to her, dragging her up to her feet. Elena whimpered slightly, shying away from him. He wrapped an arm around Elena's shoulders, before allowing the fingers of his free hand to trace along the column of her throat, right where her pulse ran at its strongest. Damon yanked the stake out before looking over. Elena's glistening eyes met Damon's. He knew in that moment that he had to save her. If she died, it would tear him apart. In that moment, she knew that she loved him. Because if dying saved Damon - it was worth it. If that wasn't love, what was?

"I'm sure she tastes gorgeous, aren't you?" Michael murmured seductively. A shiver crawled up Elena's spine. "Why don't I take a bite and see?" Then he lunged for her throat. Elena felt his teeth scrape past, but suddenly, he was gone. When Elena managed to open her eyes again, she saw Damon pinning Michael to the floor. Michael had a piece of laminate flooring stuck in his leg, as Damon positioned the stake over his chest.

"Start talking, and I promise to end it fast," Damon purred. Michael choked out a wheezy laugh.

"That's not much of a motivation." Damon dug the stake into his throat ever so slightly. Michael cried out in pain.

"I think you'll find it is." Damon suggested. "Elena."

"I'm not telling you a damn thing."

"Oh well," Damon shrugged, not even a hint of disappointment in his voice. He drew the stake back to plunge it into Michael again. And then Michael knocked him sideways. Elena was frozen to the spot in horror, but a small sound escaped her lips when Michael took the laminate from his leg, snapped it and shoved it into Damon's chest, splinters and all. Michael wrenched the stake from Damon's grasp. Elena swallowed. He was going to kill Damon. She couldn't let him. She came back to life, her eyes searching for a nearby piece of wood. Something, anything. When Elena noticed a wooden handled paintbrush nearby, she sprang at it in desperation. But she could hear the scene playing out. She wasn't going to be fast enough.

"Before I kill you, you should know. Elena and I are going to have great fun together."

Elena laid her hand on the paintbrush, desperate to make it there in time, to save Damon. But the moment she looked up, she heard a cry of pain. At first, she thought it was Damon, dying. But it was Michael. Elena momentarily paused when she saw the scene. Meredith stood there in her green dress, not a hair out of place. She'd shoved a piece of wood through his chest. She'd missed the heart, but it was enough to distract Michael. But Damon had splinters in his gut - he wasn't strong enough to fight back like he normally would have. Then again, neither was Michael.

Occupied with Meredith, he turned. Fangs exposed, he growled, before knocking Meredith aside, yanking the wooden stick from his chest. He looked down at Damon on the floor, struggling to get to his feet.

"This ends now, Salvatore."

Elena was running. She was human. Michael ignored her because of that - because he assumed she'd be heading to Meredith. She wasn't. She was heading up behind him. Michael was just stupid enough to make the same mistake twice. He didn't even get a chance to try and kill Damon. Elena had the paintbrush handle through his back, and into his heart as soon as she could. He fell down in a suspended motion. He was dead before he hit the floor.

Elena stood there, her hands shaking. She'd just killed a vampire. She couldn't really process it. She thought she'd been free of this life. But since when had that been true? Ignoring that part of the puzzle, she sank to the floor beside Damon, anxiously stroking his hair back from his face. Damon was sitting up now, his weight resting on his hands which were placed just behind him on the floor. Elena's brown eyes met Damon's blue, and she knew she'd never felt more relieved in her life. Damon was alive. He was safe. With her.

Elena had almost forgotten Meredith, until she shakily approached Elena and Damon who were sitting on the floor. Damon was too fixated on Elena to comment. Elena had her arms wrapped around the back of his shoulders, trying to support him. Meredith took one look at them before making her decision.

"I'll go make sure we weren't missed. That no one heard," Meredith said, her voice surprisingly steady. Elena just bobbed her head up and down in agreement.

"Thank you, Meredith." Elena said, trying to make it clear she wasn't just grateful for her leaving. Meredith nodded once. "We need to talk," Elena murmured. Meredith smiled weakly.

"I know. I'll be back soon. I'll lock the door, just in case." Meredith advised Elena, before slipping quietly towards the door. Elena looked at her flatmate, and wondered how long she'd been involved with vampires. She was having trouble fitting Meredith into the world of the supernatural. As the door clicked shut behind Meredith, Elena snapped back to the more pressing issue. Damon.

He was weak. Elena could see it. He struggling to sit up frankly - all his bounce backs from being staked had been heat of the moment. But now? It was showing. Elena shifted her body so she was able get a better look at him. What she saw wasn't encouraging.

"How're you doing?" Elena asked quietly. It was a testament to Damon that he had it in him to smirk weakly at that.

"How do you think Elena?" Elena looked down at the bloodstains around his gut. So not great was the answer. Without speaking, Elena began to unbutton Damon's ruined jacked, slipping it off of his shoulders. Damon cocked an eyebrow at her, and as a compliment to his omnipresent humour, managed to make a remark.

"You know Elena, if you wanted me to strip, all you had to do was ask."

Elena looked up at his suggestive expression for only a moment before rolling her eyes slightly. She yanked Damon's shirt away from his abdomen, in a way that made it clear she wasn't trying to be kinky about this.

"I wanted a better look at this," Elena murmured, observing Damon's bleeding stomach. The wound where he'd been staked seemed to have vanished, but the injury from the laminate was still there - the splinters were still stuck in Damon's body.

"Mhm, Nurse Elena," Damon murmured to her in the same suggestive, seductive tone. Elena ignored him, examining the extent of the damage to Damon's body. It was gruesome, but Elena swallowed her hesitance and gingerly pulled a splinter out. Damon hissed in pain.

"Don't be such a baby," Elena muttered in reply. Damon gave her a dark look. Elena just ripped out another splinter, making him wince slightly once more.

All in all, there were about 20 splinters. Luckily, most of them were relatively large and easy enough for Elena to fish out. After a time, she forgot that she was working on Damon, that she was even working on a person. It was just some object she had to remove bits of wood from. She wondered if this was what being a nurse would be like. If so, she wasn't sure that she liked it. She hated the way she dehumanised her patients. She had never dreamed of being in the medical profession. She had wanted to be a writer. But that dream had felt like it died with her mother, so this was the best way she could help people. She'd seen enough guts and gore over the past two years to cure any thoughts of squeamishness, and she really felt like she'd be making a difference. Besides, writers rarely made enough to survive on. They needed normal, 9 to 5 day jobs. Nursing seemed good. But if this was what it was like...had she really made the right choice? Or had this been a misguided decision made at the peak of her depression?

Elena pondered it until every last piece of wood was out of Damon's body. Then she looked up at Damon, who was just staring at her. He looked a little bit weak, a little paler than usual, and his wounds had been healing slowly by his standards. She quickly analysed his physical state, and knew that if another vampire turned up, he wouldn't be able to handle it. Elena needed him to handle it - she wouldn't allow him to die. Who knew if Michael (whose body Elena was deliberately ignoring, even although it was only a few feet away) had come to the party alone? Elena found it vaguely curious that when she reached her conclusion, she didn't really feel afraid. Just safe in the knowledge that she'd be helping Damon.

Damon watched Elena curiously as she rolled up one of her pale blue sleeves, before shifting closer to Damon once more. Then she just held out her wrist. Damon looked at her like she was crazy. Then he understood what she wanted. The intent in her eyes was unmistakeable.

"Elena, what are you doing?" Damon asked her. Elena met his eyes steadily. She knew what she was doing.

"I'm offering you my blood."

"Exactly. What are you doing?"

"You need to get better," Elena explained softly. "And it's not like there are any other donors around."

"This isn't donating to the blood bank, Elena."

"No, but you raid those anyway, so what difference does it make?" Elena pointed out. Damon almost looked resigned. Personally, Elena couldn't believe he was even considering saying no. Surely, he'd wanted to try her blood for a long time. Surely, some part of him - the vampire part of him - had been screaming for this moment for a very, very long time.

"I don't want to hurt you." Damon admitted, so softly Elena might have missed it. But she didn't. Her heart skipped a beat when he said it. That was why he was denying her. For her sake. He clearly felt something for her. How had she overlooked it for so long? She knew he was only saying these things because he was weak, vulnerable and really not up for expending energy on fending her off with excuses. But she savoured his honesty. It didn't turn up very often. "I can just go find someone else at the party..." Damon trailed off.

"No," Elena said sharply. She didn't want him drawing attention to himself. Besides, she wouldn't let him use someone like that. And yet, here she was, offering herself up like a blood bag. How ironic.

"I need you Damon." Elena pleaded slightly, placing a hand on his arm and capturing his blue eyes as he looked up at her once more. "What if there are more vampires?"

That seemed to tip it for Damon. He needed to be able to protect her.

Damon moved his hand to trace her exposed wrist lightly, following the veins in her wrist. The sensation sent shivers up her spine, which she tried to ignore. She shifted slightly.

"Don't struggle. It'll only make it hurt more," Damon instructed her quietly, his eyes still fixed on her wrist. Her fingers were stained scarlet with his blood. But blood was blood and Elena knew the colouring would only make things more attractive to the beast inside Damon that she wanted to set loose. She might as well tell him to take everything she had. But it wasn't like she'd miss a pint of blood off the top, right? She was entranced in the moment. There was no going back.

It was Damon who shifted closer to her as she drew her wrist up to his mouth. She could almost feel the moment when his face shifted into a mask of bloodlust and desire, but she never saw it. He was too fast. The pain hit her wrist like a tornado. Elena's first instinct was to struggle, to run and get free from this monster. But then she reminded herself of Damon's warning and it brushed through her mind, calming her. The look on his face as he'd admitted he didn't want to hurt her haunted her memories. She didn't want to struggle any more. Besides, Damon's grip was like iron. She wouldn't have been able to escape, even if she wanted to. Once the fear left her body, she found that it wasn't actually so bad. It was almost thrilling, feeling her blood leave her veins and enter Damon's body, sustaining him, keeping him alive. It was almost sensual, this feeling of giving Damon what he needed. She didn't even think of struggling then. She didn't want to. She had to stop herself shuddering in delight at the feeling of Damon drawing her blood out of her body.

It was only when she felt herself get a little lightheaded that she realised there might be a problem. If Damon took too much, she was dead. If he took too much, then she wouldn't be able to walk or see straight or think straight. He had to stop. Soon. Surely he'd had enough now? Elena hoped so, because she decided she couldn't afford to lose anymore. Fighting through the haze of pleasure and delirium in her body from sharing her blood, she managed to speak, for her own sake.

"Damon, stop," she murmured. He didn't seem to hear her. With what seemed like the effort of lifting the world, she placed her free hand on Damon's shoulder. "Damon," Elena repeated. That woke him up. He drew back from her wrist in a flash, and his eyes were locked on hers faster than Elena could think. He still held her wrist, and his lips were stained red with her blood. His eyes were bloodshot, and Elena was sure his fangs were hiding somewhere beneath his lips. The odd thing was that she didn't find it disgusting. Just kind of satisfying. The bloodlust remained for only a moment, until the redness faded as he examined her. Elena inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself.

"I took too much, did I?" Damon guessed. He almost looked disappointed. But not with her - with himself. Elena could tell. Elena shook her head, even though it made the world spin.

"It's fine. You needed it." Elena murmured. Damon looked much better now. Better than fine. Apart from the bloody holes in his shirt, you would never know anything was wrong. Elena was glad. It made her choice worth it. She liked the fact that she'd healed him. She almost felt like a part of him, now her blood ran in his veins. Everything was fine now. It would be fine. Only when Elena shifted to try and stand up, she fell straight back down again.

Damon was there to catch her. He lowered her gently to the ground, and held her in his arms. Elena put a hand to her head, not caring about Damon's embrace. She didn't speak, but eventually opened her eyes. Damon's blue eyes were full of self-loathing and pity. Elena hated it. She wished he would be so hard on himself - it wasn't that he wasn't good enough, it was that he'd just had a really shitty deal in life. He was more than good enough. He deserved the world. But thanks to the actions of other people, he couldn't see it. Even she was responsible. Damon deserved the world, and Elena wanted to help him see that. She wanted him to see that she didn't care that she was dizzy from her blood donation. But she was too disorientated to try.

Elena vaguely supposed that she shouldn't really have been surprised when Damon raised his own wrist to his lips, teeth ripping through his own skin. But she was. Elena shook her head, but stopped when she found it just made her feel nauseous. "No, Damon. That's not the point," Elena murmured.

"Isn't it?" Damon asked her.

"No. I wanted you to get better. I knew the risk." She explained it dizzily. She knew it didn't help her case.

"Elena," Damon said softly, brushing a lock of hair back from her face. Elena vaguely thought that she loved how he said her name. "You needed me to get better. Well, I need you to get better." Elena hated how he did that. But for him, she knew now that she'd do anything. She'd move mountains and swim oceans from him, if he wanted her to. If it would help him. He'd said precisely the right words to make her do it. And in some weird, twisted way, Elena really wanted to know what Damon's blood tasted like. She'd had a bit of Stefan's before, in moments of desparation. But it was impossible to deny that they were polar opposites. She wondered if their blood was too.

Weakly, Elena nodded once, and breathed out a quick 'okay'.

Damon moved swiftly, lowering his still-bleeding wrist to her lips. The copper-salt tang hit Elena's mouth first, but there was something else just under it. It was exotic, mysterious. Like the promise of another shining, glistening world. It was a siren call of danger and adventure and the time of your life. Elena was not a fan of blood, and she was no vampire. But in the weirdest, strangest way, Damon's blood left her wanting more. She wanted it to last forever. She wanted to experience this new life the blood promised her and she knew the only way to do that was to take more. It was a like a drug, and Elena was unable to deny it. But Damon intervened for her.

He pulled his wrist back after what felt like only a second. Elena was tempted to protest, but then she caught herself. What was she thinking? What was wrong with her?

"Better?" Damon asked, clearly concerned. Elena nodded, trying to give back some personal space to Damon. But she didn't really move so far. She noticed her wrist was healed, as was her dizziness and any soreness in her body from the assault. Eventually, Elena nodded.

"Yes, thank you," Elena murmured. She felt awkward. She was in love with Damon. She hadn't told him. Yet sharing blood with him was probably the most intimate, romantic thing she could do with anyone. Especially in these circumstances. This wasn't done out of lust or panic. This was medicinal. Not strictly necessary, yet not frivolous. That feeling of sustaining someone like that was one of the deepest Elena had ever felt. She'd had that experience, and she hadn't even admitted her feelings, which she was now positive were true. No one felt like that without being in love. Hell, she hadn't ever felt like that with Stefan. They'd never exchanged blood like that, but the point still remained. Elena closed her eyes, wondering for a moment what it would have been like if Damon had drawn blood from her throat. She dismissed in it a rush, looking for her tiara in order to give herself a distraction. She spotted it in the corner of the room and got to her feet to go and fetch it. Damon, however saw her intention and was there and back faster than she could take a step. He held the tiara out.

"For you, mi'lady" Damon said with a smirk on her face. Elena took it gently from his hands, before examining it carefully. It didn't seem to be damaged. She briefly glanced over her dress too, and was relieved to find it intact, if a little dusty. She had to return it in the morning. She just held the tiara in her scarlet stained fingers, not bothering to put it back on her head. She knew she was a state - she'd need to go to the bathroom and clean up. Elena considered the events since she'd entered this room. Their blood exchange. The way they had saved each other. It was surreal, but it made Elena's heart swell.

"Elena." "Damon." They both uttered each other's name at the same moment. Elena blushed slightly. "You first," she conceded. Damon looked at her, capturing her eyes with his intensity.

"Thank you." Two words she'd never expected from Damon's lips. Never once had she heard him thank anyone. Yet here he was, thanking her.

"For what?" Elena asked. Damon shrugged, seeming to hesitate, almost struggle with the words.

"You saved my life tonight. It's not the first time either, Elena. Most people would have given up by now." Damon said. Elena just wanted to hug him. She would never give up on him. She'd save him every time she could. "I don't know what you see in me. I don't know how you do. I'm not a hero, Elena, I don't do good things. But you see something worth saving." Damon paused. "And I'm glad you do."

Elena didn't speak. She just took a step forward and wrapped her arms around Damon. It was all there was to say, all there was to do. Elena would never know how Damon was repeating parts of the speech that had been meant for her, years ago, on the day of the Founder's Parade. When Katherine had received the speech that was meant for her. But she did know that it broke her heart. Damon didn't think he was worth saving. He was. Always. There had never been a more perfect moment to admit how she felt.

"Damon, I have something to say." Elena whispered, still holding him in her embrace. Damon pushed her back slightly, so he could meet her eyes. Elena saw the look of curiosity and trepidation that bred there. And she knew this was the right choice.

"I think..."

Elena trailed off. The door had opened. They were no longer alone.

And the moment was gone.