This chapter will be a bit darker than the first, I hope you enjoy it, and thank you everyone for the reviews and favourites!

Cricketsong.1985

A/N – Apr 15.12 – I have continued my edit with this chapter by removing over 350 words and rewriting a few bits and pieces. I hope that it makes things easier to follow and more enjoyable. I would greatly appreciate feedback related to this revision!

Darkly Dreaming Damon

Chapter Two

The starry sky began to give way to streaks of dawn light, and Damon's light sleep melted away gradually. He'd been having a wonderful dream and he woke with a smile on his lips. He recalled the evening before, and Elena falling asleep on the sofa in the study. He reached out his senses and picked up her heartbeat easily, but it wasn't peacefully thumping away as he expected. It was hammering at a fearful pace. He listened more carefully and heard her breaths were deep and even – she was asleep, dreaming.

Damon closed his eyes and drew deep breaths, relaxing himself and focusing on extending the skill that was one of the stranger aspects of being a vampire. It had taken some getting used to, and a lot of practise to perfect. He hadn't used it very much in his first few decades, as it was a challenge to manipulate the ability. He was able to hone in on Elena's energy, specifically her fitful dreams. Damon was hit with a wave of fear and panic from Elena. Her pounding heartbeat filled his head and his fists clenched. What was she dreaming about that was causing her so much terror? He put more energy into his searching, her dreamscape rising into focus in his mind. He could feel what she felt, hear what she thought, and see what she saw.

Elena tried to scream against the impossibly strong palm that covered her mouth, but it was useless, She was going to die. He was going to kill her for sure. Pain radiated from the deep bite on her throat. She dipped in and out of consciousness as the extreme blood loss started to take her over. The whites of Stefan's piercing green eyes were red with his bloodlust, and the veins around them were darkened and engorged with blood, giving him a fearsome, monstrous countenance. His fangs, lips and chin were stained a deep red that looked black in the darkness around her. Her heart laboured furiously to pump her dwindling blood supply through her trembling body. She was shaking uncontrollably, sweating, getting weaker. Elena's thoughts briefly flashed to the many times Stefan had been sweet and loving to her – someone she trusted completely and counted on to protect her. In this moment all of that humanity was gone, replaced by a horrifying monster that left no trace of the kind man behind. She felt that she was seeing him for what he truly was, perhaps for the first time, and it would be the last thing she ever saw. Sadness swam through her at this realization.

Her nails scratched desperate furrows in his arm, trying to take his hand from her mouth, but he didn't react. The scratches simply healed, and she had become too weak to struggle anymore. She raised her eyes towards the sky, knowing that she would never see any of them again, that she would never see Jeremy or Bonnie, never see Damon again. Emotion surged through Elena as she tried to keep here eyes on the stars glittering from the safety of the heavens. Pain radiated through her body as a fresh, crushing bite was hungrily administered to her throat. He removed his hand from her mouth to hold her against his muscled body as her legs gave way beneath her.

Damon was shocked by the intensity of the dream he'd entered. It was difficult to push past Elena's projected fear and redirect her nightmare. Damon had to gather his strength and focus to bring change to the scene she projected. He concentrated intently on her, feeling her slowly concede to his influence on her nightmare.

Just as she was finally drifting away past the point of pain, Elena felt it stop. For a brief moment she thought she was dead, and that she could finally be at peace, be safe. She felt the crushing pressure on her throat lessen. A tingling swept through her body as the wounds, bruises, and scratches all over her skin began to heal with supernatural speed. It itched, almost tickled. She hesitantly peeked an eye at Stefan, but he was gone. The starry night was gone – turned to day – with cheery beams of sunlight streaking down all around her. Damon was holding her. He brought her through her bedroom window and gingerly set her on the bed. She looked down at herself, searching for blood but there was none; she was clean, healthy and safe. Her teddy bear was on the bed beside her. She looked at Damon in confusion, but he was already gone out the window, leaving her feeling incredibly safe and absolutely certain that nothing could harm her.

Damon opened his eyes slowly, Elena's thoughts of his brother still flickering in his mind. He had completely forgotten his own pleasant dreams, instead remembering Elena's panic and the awful pain she'd been feeling. He knew that a vampire bite was agony – he'd doled out plenty of them over the years – but he had never felt one himself. When Katherine fed from him in 1864 she had been gentle, and he had been more than willing. It had been a wonderful, experience that left him craving her touch and the connection he'd felt when they shared blood. Elena's nightmare experience was quite the opposite, and he wondered how much of it was a memory and how much was creative thinking. He knew Stefan had never been able to control his bloodlust well enough to give a 'nice' bite. The vampiric instinct to feed and kill took him over completely when he tasted human blood, so he'd seldom fed from anyone without killing them out of sheer excitement. It made the elder Salvatore brother furious to consider this. Elena was innocent, and she was plagued by night terrors that involved her so-called boyfriend, whom she was supposed to be able to trust. Instead she was afraid of him, and with very good reason. In a faraway corner of his mind Damon imagined how it would feel to show Elena what an intimate experience sharing blood with a vampire partner could be. He felt his own animal instincts stirring at this thought, encouraged by his anger and frustration. He controlled his wandering imagination by reminding himself that Elena was absolutely off-limits and always would be. Tasting her would remain a fantasy.

Damon felt drained from using the dream manipulating ability. Hunger gnawed at him, which made it more difficult to tone down the sound of Elena's now-relaxed heartbeat. He consciously blocked his instinct to follow the noise, instead kicking off his covers and padding across his room to find something to wear.

Moments later Damon was dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans. A quick trip downstairs for some blood and he was back in front of the microwave, watching the mug circle around on the plate, awaiting the satisfying beep that indicated the contents were heated to exactly 98.6F. On a usual day he would only have one bag in the morning, but this morning he was nearly ravenous. He downed both pints of blood quickly, and still the continuous beat of Elena's heart beckoned to him from the study where she slept.

He brought a glass of orange juice with him up the stairs, catching Elena's scent in the hall as he approached the door. Nudging it open with his foot, Damon peered into the brightly lit study. Morning sun was pouring in through the bay window and bathing the whole room in its welcoming glow.

Elena was stretched on the sofa with the throw over her lower half and a pillow tucked under her head. Her breathing was slow and relaxed. Her hair was fanned out around her delicately. One of her hands rested on her stomach, rising and falling with her breaths. The scent of her skin, her shampoo, even her breathing veritably summoned Damon closer to her, his feet carrying him around the sofa to perch on the edge of it. The relentless rhythm of her heart pumping filled his ears. Lub dub, lub dub, lub dub. It was hypnotic. The vampire cursed his nature, his preternatural senses, and his overly sentimental heart as a pang of desire for Elena threatened to overtake his common sense.

Damon considered Elena's sleeping features. He was such a sap. He wanted her more than anything on the Earth, even more than he'd wanted Katherine (and he'd spent 145 years waiting for her, only to find that she couldn't have cared less about him if he was a pebble under her shoe). He had resigned himself to eternity alone after that, coming to accept that he would go insane if he allowed his mind to run amok with wild ideas about falling in love ever again. And yet, here he was hopelessly drawn and bound to this woman. She was barely a woman... only 18, she was still a girl, just starting out her short life, which was constantly in danger. She knew what he was, she had seen him deal death and punishment, seen him crazed by a werewolf bite. He knew he had tasted her blood one time – when he was losing his mind to the fever and nearing certain death – but he could not, no matter how he tried, remember the bite or her taste. All he remembered was the confusion the fever caused, and feeling afraid. Even still, he knew she had seen him lose control in those bleak hours, and she hadn't left him. She'd stayed, even after he bit her. She didn't turn away from him even when he was completely taken by the fever, unable to control what he did and said.

She trusted him not to hurt her. That meant a lot to Damon, as he was seldom granted anybody's trust in his lifetime. He had never done much to deserve it. Stefan may have been a murderous serial ripper, but Damon knew he was no saint. He had almost always kept 'pets'- women he'd compelled to obey him and offer him anything he wanted. There was much blood, bourbon, and bare skin in his past, so many drunken orgies, and so many times he'd become frustrated with the human women and snapped their necks. He didn't always kill them, it really depended on his mood. Sometimes he would come across a woman he felt he might connect with... he had even revealed his nature to a few of them, but had always been met with pleading to be left alive, to be let go. He had never had one of them willingly remain at his side. Then again, he wasn't particularly nice to any of them either. He'd spared them tenderness entirely.

Many labels for himself popped into his head: murderer, rapist, sadist, but it always came back to 'monster'. Damon believed, in his heart, that he was truly a beast that deserved to burn in Hell. He couldn't do penance for his sins in ten lifetimes. Religion and the concept of being eternally damned were simply engrained into his being. As a boy he'd been taught that God sent sinners to Hell, and even though he didn't really buy into that concept now, it still lingered within him. He wondered what would happen to his soul when he eventually died. He wondered if he even had a soul anymore.

All of this played in his mind as he put a hand to Elena's cheek to wake her. She felt so hot and alive under his fingertips, which were warm from his meal minutes earlier. A jolt of electricity leapt through him where he made contact with her skin, the hairs on the backs of his arms and neck standing on end. Her cheeks were flushed and a thin sheen of sweat dampened her forehead. He assumed this was left over from her nightmare. Her eyes slowly blinked open.. He heard her heartbeat pick up a bit as she regained consciousness gradually. She met his eyes, a sleepy expression still on her face. He withdrew his hand, resting it over his knee.

"Its morning Elena," he said gently.

Elena snapped awake and sat up quickly as a worried frown took over her features. Her hand went to her throat, feeling for something. Damon sensed her fear and anxiety. She inspected herself with a confused look, not registering his presence. She saw the orange juice on the table and picked up the glass, swallowing the it thankfully. She set the empty glass back on the table and gave Damon a furtive glance.

"What's wrong?' he asked her, knowing the answer to her question already.

Her tone was level and devoid of much expression, "Nothing, I had a really weird dream, I thought it was real." She rose from the couch still dressed in last night's clothes, which consisted of black yoga pants, a white t-shirt, and a zippered navy blue hoodie. She looked around the study, apparently recalling the previous night's discoveries about Stefan and Klaus.

"Stefan's in Europe. With Klaus," she stated, her brows knitting together and making that little wrinkle between them as she scowled at the coffee table. Damon had to wonder what she was thinking and feeling. He somehow doubted she shared his rage at the overall situation. His voice came out exasperated, his eyes burning into hers.

"That's the part you're upset about? Elena we have to come up with a plan to stop Klaus. He is going to come back for you... for your blood. We should see if Witchy can cast some kind of protection spell on you, something to stop him being able to take your blood. " Damon paced over to the bar, selecting a bottle of Kentucky bourbon and grabbing a clean tumbler. It was – he looked over to the clock on the wall – 8:15 AM, definitely time for a drink. He poured himself a generous helping, inhaling its sharp, smoky aroma. He felt a measure of calmness at the familiar scent. He held the glass in his hand, eyes flitting back to Elena's. She was glaring at him. The defeat that had been there the night before was gone. She stood and spoke firmly.

"Damon I have already decided that I will let him take my blood. He-"

Damon interrupted her angrily. "What! You can't be a martyr Elena, that fucker is going to kill you! You're talking crazy." He put the glass to his lips, drawing in a mouthful from the tumbler clutched tightly in his hand. Even its heat and flavour didn't calm his ire. He imagined Klaus draining Elena dry and the glass promptly shattered, slicing his palm and fingers in a few places and crashing to the floor, breaking into several shards. The smell of bourbon invaded the whole room as it soaked into one of his antique hand-woven rugs.

He didn't really even notice as his hand mended itself and he stepped over the broken pieces towards Elena, who stood defiantly before him. She was unfazed by the broken glass or his figure looming over her. She poked him in the chest angrily, fire flashing in her eyes.

"Its MY life, and I know that Klaus will hurt the people I care about if I don't give him what he wants. The letter said he wouldn't hurt me as long as I co-operate. I'm doing it. You can't stop me Damon, don't try to." She put her hands on her hips, solidifying her statement. As an afterthought in a softer voice she added, " I don't want him to kill you." Sadness tugged at the fire in her eyes, her expression becoming more wistful than warring.

Damon erupted at her. His hands gestured violently as he yelled into her face. "Who cares if he kills me! I'm already dead, but you aren't! Elena you are alive, you are human, you should be hanging out with your friends and living your life, not worrying about this fucking bullshit! It was a mistake for Stefan and I to ever come back to Mystic Falls. We brought danger to you. We brought this trouble right to your doorstep." Damon's eyes slit in anger, boring into Elena's, which were equally severe. He could not believe she was even considering putting herself in danger AGAIN! This stubborn, well-meaning bullshit was going to get her killed, and fast.

Elena stared at him with a stern expression. She swallowed and took a breath, apparently refusing to get riled up. He hated it when she wouldn't fight! He wanted to argue with her, to push her buttons and get under her skin. He needed her to see that she would die if Klaus got his hands on her. He couldn't be trusted to keep his word.

She surprised him by taking his hands in hers and squeezing them firmly.

"Damon. This isn't up to you. Klaus needs me alive, he is not going to kill me, or he won't be able to make more hybrids. I will be fine. Besides, we have no way of knowing when he's coming, we can't stop it. Its going to happen, so I should just accept that and go with him willingly when it does. Its safer for all of us that way, can't you see that?" Her voice was serious and even but her rapidly thudding heartbeat contradicted her projected calm - he could tell she was being brave to cover her fear. Her eyes pleaded with him and the heat from her hands was distracting him from the gravity of the situation. He pulled his palms free from hers, putting some distance between their bodies so he could think.

"Its safer for everyone but you." He said gruffly.

"My life isn't any more or less important than anybody else's Damon," Elena said sternly, "I don't want to die, but I really don't think Klaus is going to kill me. Its the best option from a very short list of options right now."

Damon wanted to yell at her some more. He felt like shaking her by the shoulders until she got it, but that wasn't going to help anything. He released an unintentional growl and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at her.

"So we just sit here and wait for him to come get you."

"Yes."

"And you're going to go with him totally willingly when he does."

"Yes."

Damon could no longer contain his rage. He blurred out of the study in an instant, leaving Elena behind to blink at the spot he'd occupied a moment before. He distantly heard her call his name, but he kept going.

He really needed to kill something.

There you go readers, thats chapter two! We got a little deeper into Damon in this chapter, what does everyone think? I love him angry – its hot. I had a lot of fun writing this one! I hope you enjoyed! Please review!

Crickesong.1985