Disclaimer: Nothing is owned, only borrowed.

Summary: Set after 3x07. The ghosts from the other side have returned to Mystic Falls and desperate to find a means of killing Klaus to free Stefan from his compulsion, Damon is eager to follow deceased werewolf Mason into the Lockwood Cellar. However, when trouble inevitably finds him, Damon is left with no choice but to ask for help from the people he can only hope still care about him.

Hurt!Damon. Delena if you squint. Damon and Alaric friendship.

Warnings: Moderately graphic description of injury.

Chapter 8

Had it not been for the painful, thin whistles of air between Damon's clenched teeth following each motion of the quickly reddening cloth over his wounds, Elena might have thought that the vampire had fallen asleep. For, she had long since ceased her efforts to engage him in even the most strained of conversations. The vampire had grown quiet, succumbing at last to his exhaustion and allowing his eyes to close in an aching respite. Though, despite the stillness and the quiet settled upon the room, Elena did not cease in her work, settling rather into the morbid routine of wringing the soiled rag over the crimson liquid in the bowl, more blood than water at this point, and with motions stiffened with reluctance, bringing it to Damon's torso.

"This isn't working." Elena sighed. Her eyes were wide with worry as she rose again, taking the bowl with her to Alaric's bathroom to change the water.

At her motion, the vampire cracked an eye open. Stoic and tight, his gaze rested on her face for only but a moment before he inspected his wounds himself, gingerly running a thumb over the edges of where the damaged skin was frayed. The bleeding had slowed, though still the flow was steady, and Damon needed not look to know that he had lost more blood than he could possibly replenish with the stock he'd stored in Alaric's loft.

"Damned vervain." He sighed, as he settled back against the pillows, listening to the sound of water rushing from the faucet as Elena filled the bowl once more.

"Shouldn't you be healing by now?" Elena's voice was soft, concerned.

The vampire tilted his head, an effortless substitution for what would have been a noncommittal shrug. "Give it a couple of hours."

Elena said nothing in return, rather she only creased her brow as she, with heavy steps, made her way over to the vampire again.

"How is the pain?" she all but mumbled, almost apologetically, as she wrung the cloth.

Damon eyed the dripping rag with a look as uneasy as he dared allow, following it until it was just close enough for the water to drip onto him, before he brought up a hand to stop its descent.

"It's fine. I'm fine. You don't need to do that anymore. It's not doing anything anyway."

Elena pressed her lips into a hard line, "You are not fine, Damon. You need-"

"What I need is a shower." The vampire cut her off as he began to shift his weight onto his elbows in an effort to rise.

Elena watched him, wincing at each painstaking motion. His movements were dreadfully slow, each eliciting a painful groan that deepened her frown until she was sure her brow was nearly resting upon the bridge of her nose.

"You shouldn't be moving around just yet." She said, eyes glued to him.

If Damon had heard her, surely he was ignoring her, instead focusing his every effort in maneuvering himself to a sitting position, biceps flexed as he braced himself against the cushions. His arms were shaking with the effort, and his breathing had shortened to a pant, though Elena knew better than to ask if he wanted any help. For she knew that while his injuries would heal, Damon's pride was another case entirely.

Damon rose slowly on infuriatingly unsteady legs, ignoring with all his might the disorienting lightness of his head as he began to step, rather limp, toward Alaric's bathroom. His clothes felt heavy, adhered to him by his own blood and sweat, and the vampire in all his years could not recall a time when he desired more but a simple bar of soap.

Keep moving, don't stop. Keep moving, don't stop.

Every step was agony, but stronger was Damon's will. However, only so far could his mantra carry him, and it was abruptly that the vampire stopped, doubled over, halfway toward his destination.

"Damon?"

Damon could not hear Elena's voice, for too loud in his ears was the seeming throbbing of his brain against the walls of his skull.

The girl had moved closer to him, but still she kept a respectful distance. Despite every part of her advising her otherwise, Elena stood away from him, hands closed into fists at her sides and feet planted firmly into the ground. For just yet, another step she dared not take.

Damon only barely registered the feel of sweat dripping down the contours of his face, collecting in drops at the edge of his jaw, before falling heavily onto the shoulder of his jacket. His senses were dulled to a point rendered nearly useless, though despite this, nonetheless hard did the floor feel as it came rushing up to meet him.

Damn it.

The vampire felt his face grow hot, though for that he knew his growing fever was not alone responsible. The anticipation of feeling Elena's frantic hands on him became unbearable as he lay fallen, still as he tried to gather himself. However, the touch never came. At her absence, Damon nearly felt deprived, and as he rolled onto his back to find Elena, his eyes held a hint of confusion, only just masked beneath delirium.

Hot tears were streaming down Elena's cheeks and it seemed her fists had tightened further.

"Please let me help you." The girl's words were strangled. As it was, the sight of her friend in so much misery was simply too much for her to bear.

Damon would have liked to think that his tired nod, granting her permission to approach, was for her benefit. To make her feel as if she was not helpless, that despite her living in a town full of supernatural creatures, her efforts to help her friends still mattered. Though, as the girl crouched beside him, working her hands beneath his arms to help him rise, Damon could not ignore the notion that perhaps he did need her, maybe even in more ways than one.

"I've got you."

Damon's arm was limp as Elena draped it over her shoulders, holding firmly to his forearm as she all but dragged him the rest of the way.

The vampire could feel his energy rapidly depleting, his eyes drifting closed despite his avid effort to stay aware.

"Damon, look at me." Elena had settled the vampire on the bathroom floor, propping him up against the wall as she took his face into her hands. "I'm going to help you but you need to stay awake."

"…No problem... Not even tired." The vampire slurred, though as Elena drew away to start the water, his head lolled to the side to rest on his shoulder.

"Hey, I said stay awake." Elena nudged him gently with her foot, adjusting the knob on the shower handle so that the water was just warm enough for comfort, though still cool enough so as to provide some relief from what was undoubtedly the searing pain he was experiencing.

"Admit it, 'Lena." Damon lifted his eyes, tracking Elena's movements as she came once more to crouch before him. "You've just been waiting for an excuse to shower with me. Not that I'm complaining."

Elena would have rolled her eyes had she not been overcome by relief that while he was fading rather quickly, for the present moment at least, he was lucid enough to maintain his sense of humor.

"In your dreams, Salvatore." She took him by the shoulders, pulling him towards the shower. "Besides you're on your own from here."

Damon watched her ruefully as she rose to place her hands on her hips.

"I'm going to find you something to change into. I'm right outside the door if you actually need me." She said seriously before she left him in the bathroom, drawing the door closed behind her.

For moments, Damon did not move, rather he settled for reveling in the temporary comfort he found while staring after Elena, eyes fixed steadily on the door as he listened to the patter of water against the shower's pale grey tile.

"Here goes." Damon whispered to himself at last, centering himself as he prepared for the new misery that inevitably followed even the slightest of movements.

With gritted teeth, the vampire shrugged off his jacket and previously unbuttoned shirt in one piece, unavoidably aggravating wounds still yet to close.

Ric is going to be pissed, Damon could not bring himself to smirk at the sight of all his blood splashed across the teacher's bathroom floor. For, too much was the pain of his continued motion as he worked off his leather boots followed by dark navy jeans, and still more was the realization of how much he owed the teacher. Damon almost felt guilty for tracking blood all over his loft.

Just get through this, Damon reminded himself, never pausing before he forced himself up and moved to stand beneath the water.

Despite the relatively gentle flow of the water, against his open wounds, it was a seeming barrage on his tender skin. Though, a sharp inhale was all the vampire would allow himself, and it was with a steely resolve that he reached for the bar of soap on the dish secured to the wall.

The scent of lemon mingled with the steam to rise toward Damon's face. The feeling was invigorating, the sensation of dirt and blood caked to his skin, washing away and in its stead were the white rimmed suds that suddenly meant more than they could have ever had it not been for the relentless hell he had endured that night. A blissful mix of pain and relief, Damon stood as still as he could under the stream of water, turning over the slippery block of soap in his hand, over and over if only to distract himself from the discomfort.

Damon was not sure how long he had been standing there, though when at last he worked up the will to turn the water off and step out of the shower, he found clean clothes already waiting for him. Reluctantly, the vampire reached for the towel, folded just beside, and silently hoped that Alaric did not have much attachment to such items. For, after he dried, Damon loathed to see the amount of blood staining the towel as he dropped it to the floor. For such a fabric as it was, Damon knew that even the most potent of detergents could offer no redemption.

Damon wasted no time in dressing, pulling on Alaric's dark grey sweats that Elena had laid out for him with stiff though swift motions. However, at the sight of the oversized plain, forest green shirt, still folded on the vanity, the vampire stopped, an utter refusal to bleed on and ultimately destroy another of Alaric's things.

"Elena." Damon's voice failed him. What should have been a call, loud enough at least to reach her, came out as little more than a wheeze. Nonetheless, and much to the vampire's relief, the bathroom door came open, only but a crack. It did not escape Damon's notice how Elena did not immediately peer into the bathroom, taking into consideration his privacy, and perhaps further the recognition of his possible indecency.

Such a rigid girl, that one.

"What do you need?" Elena's fingers were beginning to creep around the edge of the door.

"Bandages?" Exhaustion brought a sting to Damon's reddened eyes and the vampire moved to settle on the closed lid of the toilet.

"I have them. May I come in?"

There was a weight in Elena's words that banished any thoughts of jest that may have crossed the vampire's mind, and in their stead was the realization that she was trusting his discretion.

"Yes." Damon said sincerely, watching with amusement the relief on her face to discover that only his midriff remained exposed.

Carrying an armful of gauze, antiseptic, and medical tape, Elena closed the distance between them, depositing her supplies onto the counter as she kneeled beside him, coming eye level with his injuries.

"They're looking a little better." Elena said, but her words fell on deaf ears.

Damon had leaned back, eyes closed as he let his head fall forward against his chest. The last of his energy had been exhausted and he had not even the strength to respond.

Whether or not Elena spoke again, the vampire could not have told, for his consciousness had drifted elsewhere as at last he surrendered in his battle against the darkness that willingly consumed him.

A/N: Hey guys, this chapter certainly took longer than I thought it would! I hope you all are enjoying so far. Please don't forget to follow, favorite, and review. I cannot even articulate how much I treasure every one of you, and I love hearing your feedback. Your reviews have kept me so motivated to keep updates frequent, and, not to mention, they are my life force.