He's choking from the amount of gun powder in the air, the smoke is blinding. His fellow soldiers intermingle with the Union ones and he's not able to recognize them until they're in his face. Screams of pain and the coppery scent of fresh blood are the most profound perceptions he's able to absorb. It comes out of nowhere, a violent jolt followed by an explosion of pain. Fire consumes his body and he's falling. It feels like an eternity before he hits the ground. Through the thick haze of battle, he sees a brief glimpse of the bright blue sky above and the sounds of war all around him. Soon every sense is muffled and then finally dimmed by blessed unconsciousness as it slowly blankets his mind.

At first, he can't see anything. Sound slowly begins to penetrate through the deafness that surrounds him. As everything begins to coalesce, the sweetest voice he's ever heard is saying calming words somewhere near him. He feels a soft touch on his face and together with it comes pain, the onrush shakes his body and the voice above him tries to reassure.

"Lay down, soldier, you need to rest. Don't move or your wound will open up again. We were only able to stop the bleeding a little while ago..."

The gentle timbre of her voice is lulling him to sleep but he fights it. He doesn't want to slip into the same dark place, the one he's been in since they shot him. He wants to open his eyes and see the face behind the ever present angelic voice. He's wet, bathing in his own sweat or blood and he wants to get up and run from this place but he can do nothing. The last thing he can hear is her voice singing.

The next thing he knows is her hand touching him, washing his arms and chest, then holding his hand for a minute.

"Welcome back Damon," and he's sure he died and gone to heaven because her voice, her touch, he's certain that she must be an angel. He tries to open his eyes but the blinding light makes him snap them shut again. He can feel her bending closer, wiping his eyelids with a wet cloth.

"Be careful, you've been asleep for days."

He slowly tries again and suddenly, he's looking into a pair of the most mesmerizing eyes he's ever seen. His vision is blurry but those deep, chestnut-hued eyes dominate his every sense.

"How do you...?" he swallows thickly, his throat is dry and she quickly brings a cup of water to his lips. It's difficult but she manages to get a few sips into his aching body. He's still not able to see her face but the eyes are following his every move and he wishes that he'll never lose the sight of them.

"How do you... know my name?" He doesn't know why he's asking this, he wants to know who she is and her name, and most of all he wants to see her face...

The vision starts to fade again and he tries to hold onto it but it slips away anyway. The last thing he can hear is... "Elena, my name is Elena."

Damon wakes up with a start, his breathing uneven, his heart pounding as he tries to grasp onto reality. It's still dark, but the sky starts to grow pale. It's not for the first time that he dreamt of his ancestor's life but it's the first time she was there.

Elena...

She's the one, the other Damon's lost love that he mentioned a few times but she was clearly on the forefront of his thoughts. Must be the letters his father brought that conjured this rather vivid dream. Still stunned by the vivacity of it, he sits up and wipes the sweat off of his brow.

He recalls the scene he just saw and feels disappointed..., he didn't get to see her face. How could he? There never was a picture of her, nor a description anywhere in the diary. Still, it's mildly unnerving that he experienced the intensity, his great-great-great-great uncle's feelings and emotions waking up to his one true love, no matter how short their romance was.

He can't help but wonder, if they ever got to say 'I love you'? Were they ever able to consume their love in the act? Did they plan to wed and could they have made love before he marched into that Pennsylvania town where his life would end? Did she live through the war crying for Damon or was she able to move on? Did she marry or have children? Or did she die just like her Damon did falling into oblivion without leaving her own imprint on history?

Damon lays back down when an unfathomable feeling of sadness overwhelms his senses, it's so intense that he can almost feel the stab to his heart as he mourns a lost life and a love that wasn't meant to be.

The party's progressing nicely, Damon feels good about Stefan's upcoming wedding, he's glad that his little brother gets to live the life he chose to, the way it's supposed to be. Because contrary to Stefan's belief he's not completely cynical nor is he trying to run away from living his own life. He's just looking for something, someone really that would give his existence meaning. Like his ancestor before him, he's certain there's more out there, he just has to find it.

Sighing he walks over to the punch bowl. After thanking the woman who hands him a glass, he walks over to an empty table. He takes a sip, his eyes fall on his future sister in law. Caroline is exactly as his dad described her. Damon thinks she will certainly keep his little brother on his toes, he chuckles at this thought.

"What's so funny?" his future sister in law sits next to him.

Damon gives her a smug smile. "I was just thinking my brother will never get bored with you. You won't let him."

Caroline's beaming: "You think so?"

"But," Damon continues, pausing to take a sip of his drink. "Don't even think of trying the same on me. I fight back."

Caroline's not exactly sure what to make of him, so she grins and asks him to dance. Damon's not opposed to sharing one with her. He swallows what's left in his glass and then stands up and offers his hand. Soon they're circling the room. He quickly realizes his mistake when they meet Stefan dancing with an unknown girl in the middle of the dance floor.

"Swap?" Stefan winks at Caroline and Damon wants to strangle him. However rather than make a scene, he smiles sweetly and turns his attention to the girl. "I'm Damon. The much more handsome better brother."

The girl giggles and she's actually quite sweet. "Amber. I'm Caroline's cousin."

They dance for several dances then they friendly part ways. Damon won't play this game, he's made that perfectly clear to his brother on many occasions. He's no monk of course, but he won't let anyone pressure him into the love, marriage and baby carriage game.

Is it bad he wants more? To see what life has to offer? He pauses at the thought, once again he feels a kinship with his ancestor.

"I hope that Stefan's slight of hand hasn't ruined your mood?" Zachary, known by most of his friends and family as Zach, appears, dropping into the chair next to him.

"Nope, dad," Damon gives him a genuine smile.

"Stefan might be a bit unhappy with me but what else is new? Sure Amber seems like a nice girl but that's not how it works. Maybe I'll find her out there somewhere, maybe I won't but the decision will be mine, not Stefan's, not yours, not mom's."

"Sometimes I can't help but wonder what or who you're waiting for? I know love can't be forced but I still worry about you. Marrying your mother is the best thing I've ever done. And I'll tell you a little secret. I was never keen about jumping into marriage myself but then I met her."

They both follow her with their eyes as she makes her way through the crowd. Everyone knows how much Zach and Jenna Salvatore love each other. His mother beams when she happens to notice her husband and son. She turns away when one of the other guests attracts her attention. Damon feels blessed having them for his parents.

"I know dad, I just haven't found her yet... I'm waiting for my own Elena..."

"Who?" Zach doesn't follow.

Damon sighs, because he knows he will have to explain now. "The woman our ancestor, great, great... great whatever Uncle Damon was in love with. She's mentioned in the diary and in the letters you brought me too. Thank you again by the way, they're a treasure for my research."

Zach smiles and pats his shoulder. "I'm glad. You need to tell me all about them. It's been a while and I'm absolutely sure that you've found some new and intriguing details about our history. What about next Sunday? Mom will surely make something good for supper if you come?"

Damon picks up at the hope in his father's voice, he wouldn't say no. "We both know she makes something good all the time. Of course I'll come."

"Elenaaa!" He can feel her moving under him, her tiny fists clutching the blanket that covers them lightly, the sheen of sweat between them keeping their bodies together even tighter than gravity. She lets out a sob and raises her head to plant an open mouthed kiss on his shoulder, grazing it with her teeth.

He slides his hand under her backside and helps her move against him. When her body jerks and starts to shake violently, he keeps her as close as possible and as expected she pulls him over the edge along with her. She's magnificent, his Elena. He was willing to wait till the war is over but she was alright with these stolen moments, always worried they could just die and never taste each other.

"All we have is today, Damon, I know that it can end at any moment and I'd rather not live forever with regret that we wasted these moments."

When they're lying on the sheets, their bodies and souls completely bare to each other, he draws circles on her perfect skin, his fingers unconsciously turning towards her erect nipples. Or he runs them over her belly and lower still... Elena holds her breath all the way down. He watches her shining eyes, they're always so expressive, and finally asks what's been on his mind since the moment he met her.

"Did you love him?"

She recognizes the question for what it is, and her face turns more serious. "I don't know, Damon... I was 18 when our parents decided we'd be good together. We grew up in the same town, knew each other our whole lives. It was just... the next logical step in our lives. Everyone was getting married. He was good to me but did I ever feel anything comparable to this?"

She gestures between them. "I don't think so. I didn't even know anything like this existed."

Her eyes are glistening with emotions so powerful that he feels it too. It's surreal and concrete at the same time. He pulls her head against his uninjured shoulder, his only desire is to take all her worries away. Burrowing in against him, she whispers into his skin, "I don't even recall his face anymore, all I can see is you."

Something wet is touching his face and he chokes at the feel of a slippery tongue running over it. "What the hell!?" he yelps, his eyes snapping open.

"Morning!" Stefan's grinning from the chair beside his bed, his feet resting on the mattress.

"Stef!" he groans. "Seriously you must have a death wish?" Shaking his head, he shifts, turning to face his brother. "What are you doing here again and what on earth made you believe that letting Coop in here to slather my face was a good idea?"

"Well, he was laying outside your door looking lonely. What would you have me do?"

Damon simply rolls his eyes. "You didn't answer my question. Why are you here?"

"I didn't know that you made plans with the folks. I stopped by the house on my way to work yesterday, mom clued me in. When all was said and done, she wrangled a promise out of me that I'd both check on you and remind you that you promised you'd be at Sunday's supper," he watches him closely. When Damon doesn't respond, lazily scratching Cooper's neck, eyes closed again, he whips the sheet off the bed.

"Hey!" Damon snaps, "Give me a break. It's early yet. I was up almost all night doing research for my article. It's for next month but I need to get it turned in by the end of the next week."

"Ah ha," Stefan looks at him rather skeptically. "If it was an article," he mutters under his breath

Damon opens one eye to look at him. "I'm not going to waste my time trying to convince you that I actually work for a living. Buy the mag, see for yourself."

"Come on, Damon. I know you too well, you were knee deep in 'your research' yet again."

Damon shakes his head then reaches over to the opposite bedside stand to pick up his copy of "America's Civil War" magazine. He thumbs through the pages and then flashes his picture in front of Stefan and reads aloud.

"Thomas Ward Custer was a United States Army officer and two-time recipient of the Medal of Honor for bravery during the American Civil War. He was a younger brother of George Armstrong Custer, and perished with him and their younger brother, Boston Custer, at the Battle of the Little Bighorn in Montana Territory in June of 1876."

Stefan sighs but is already backing off. "Alright brother. Listen, mom insisted that I bring you some groceries. She thinks you're starving or something. I'll leave them inside the front porch. You can put them away."

Damon stretches out his hand to give Stefan a high five, his little brother's annoying but he loves him anyway... well most of the time that is.

Once the bedroom door snaps shut, Damon's thoughts turn to the vivid dream he had. The only explanation he has is that his mind is playing tricks, showing him parts of his ancestor's life that are missing from both his diary and his letters. He remembers asking himself the other day if Elena became past Damon's lover and strangely enough now he's been able to watch the answer to his question?

How strange... Maybe Stefan's right, maybe he is losing his grip on reality. He's warned him repeatedly that the diary is a dangerous obsession but somehow Damon doesn't think his dreams are simple fantasies, there's more to them, there has to be. Despite how impossible it seems, he can't help but feel there must be at least just a little bit of truth in them.

Lastly, he tries to recall everything about Elena. He can see her burnished brown eyes every time he closes his, it's like they've been imprinted in his mind. He can almost feel her gentle touch or how the tips of her hair tickle his shoulders when she moving above him. He can imagine her voice even though it's just an echo of the conversation he witnessed. But every time he tries to remember the color of her hair, her facial features, the tone of her skin, his mind goes blank.

He writes and does research for a living. If he was able to find out so much about his great-great-great-great uncle, surely he could find out something about this woman he loved, his Elena. He needs to go through the diary and letters again and again until he's sure he's found everything there is to know about her. The task is daunting, he doesn't even know her last name.

He gets up with a renewed resolve. Who are you Elena?

I apologize for the late update. Thanksgiving was my holiday to work followed by the work weekend.

Huge thanks to all of your for the reviews, follows and favorites. Eva and I are so very grateful. You're all the best.

Thank you Eva for all that you do to help make our stories interesting and fun to read.

Chapter title: 'Battle Symphony' by Linkin Park.

I did post the final chapter of "Tomorrow" the other day. I already miss that DE.

I hope to post the first chapter of our annual DE Christmas story "I'll Be Seeing You" by the end of the week. I did post a synopsis of it on my scarlett2112 fb page. It's set in WW2 but it takes place stateside. In 2014 it was "My Favorite Wife", 2015 was "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear", last year we did both "Run for the Roses" and "Same Old Lang Syne".

I'll shut up now, have a safe and wonderful day. Thanks again and we'll see you next time.