A/N: I just like to say thank you to those who reading this fic and that I'm glad you're enjoying it! I apologize for the short chapters. I'll try and make them longer.

"Damon, are you ready?"

He had only been in the cabin for less than a minute, but as soon as he and Enzo stepped back inside, Valarie—who hadn't moved from her spot on the floor in the last ten minutes—ordered from them to come over to them. By the serious look on her face, Damon knew that the plan was a go. After a long week of planning and getting prepared, it was finally time.

Now, as he laid with his back on the floor, lying within the pentagram surrounded by lit candles and stones, Valarie, on her hands and knees, crawled over to him and placed his daylight ring in his right hand and Ms. Cuddles—Enzo had found the stuffed bear in a box in the basement—in his left. Damon found himself clutching the bear tightly. It felt to him, as if he didn't, the fear that was making his stomach churn would take over; that it would eat him alive. And it probably already was eating him alive—but in perfect Damon fashion, did he try to deal with what he was feeling? No. Because that would be stupid. Instead, he pushed his feelings down, ignored them.

Suddenly, as if it's just occurring to him at this very moment, he realizes something—something he should've realized a long damn time ago.

He ignored his feelings and when it came time to deal with them, he backed out on his promises. It made him sick as he remembered all those times he let other people down. His own brother for Christ's sakes. Damon truly was a coward—and as much as he didn't want to admit it, it wouldn't be his pride or his ego that would kill him. It would be his own insecurities that he would never be enough for anyone, including himself. After living an undead life for the more than a century, there were only five things he regretted: Becoming his father—becoming a ruthless, merciless person who solved everything with violence and had the need to control everything with an iron fist; letting his brother down over and over again and only thinking of himself; never giving his mother a second chance; never being able to hold up to a certain standard; and lastly,

1. Becoming his father—becoming a ruthless, merciless person who solved everything with violence and had the need to control everything with an iron fist; 2. Letting his brother down over and over again and only thinking of himself; 3. Never giving his mother a second chance; 4. Never being able to hold up to a certain standard; 5. Hurting those he loved.

"Damon, are you ready?" He hears her voice, Valarie repeating her question, and it reminds him that he had yet to answer it.

He also noticed that at some point his eyes had fallen closed.

As his eyelids flutter open, the first thing he sees are a pair of emerald green orbs. A part of him is disappointed because they weren't the eyes he was hoping to see. Instead, it was Valarie looming over him (very creepily if he may add) and she had a reddish-brownish eyebrow raised in curiosity.

Shaking his head, he answers, "Yes. Sorry—" Damon pauses when he notices Valarie's eyebrows scrunch together in confusion at the word 'sorry', shocked he was apologizing "—I got distracted. Let's do this thing." And for someone who absolutely terrified, Damon only spoke with confidence. Shitting his pants would've been more of an appropriate response.

"You alright, mate?"

Damon's eyes snap over to Enzo, who stood behind Valarie—who now sat on the red throw pillow that supplied her with comfort as the grimoire laid face-up and her eyes were closed—and Damon nods his head. "Yeah, why wouldn't I?"

Lies.

All lies.

Damon, was in fact, quite the opposite of alright.

Enzo coughs, shoulders shaking slightly and it only took a second for Damon to realize he was laughing. "Well...to be frank, you look like you just crapped yourself."

"Enzo?" Damon speaks through gritted teeth, eyes narrowing at the British vampire.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck off."

Those two words are all it takes for Enzo to shut up, but Damon doesn't miss the smirk that pulls at his lips right before he shuts his eyes, trying to relax. Except, right as he feels his muscles untense and his clutch o Ms. Cuddles loosen—but only slightly—he hears Valarie says, "Oh, and Damon, try to relax. We only get one shot at this, so I don't you screwing it up for the rest of us."

What the hell does she think he's trying to do here?

Meditate?

Her words are enough to make his entire body freeze up and Damon refrains from taking his daylight ring and flinging it so hard at Valarie that it cuts straight through the heretic and leaves her with a hole in her heart.

"Such words of encouragement," Damon grumbled, cracking an eyelid open and directing his gaze on the redhead, finding her to be glaring back at him. "I mean, if this whole heretic thing doesn't work, you could always grow up to be a life-coach for depressing teenie-poppers or maybe a sad cat lady—I would've added 'old' by with that eternal glow of yours, it makes everything so decieveing—"

Valarie cuts him off, groaning, "Why do you have to such a great—"

And because she had cut him off, in a childish manner, Damon does the same to her. "—A great person? Thanks, Strawberry Shortcake. I always knew I could win you over."

She rolls his eyes at him. "I was actually going to say: Why do you have to be such a pain in the arse?"

Damon simply shrugs, knowing he had heard worse, but instead of dismissing the comment, he decides to answer truthfully—but it definitely wasn't because he might die as soon as Valarie starts the spell, and he definitely wasn't stalling.

No.

Nope.

Na-da.

Okay...maybe just a little bit, but in all honesty, Damon couldn't remember the last time he had been this terrified. The only thing that pulls him back into reality and out of his head where only negative thoughts floated around like a swarm of locusts was Bonnie and the fact if he didn't do this she'd die. And Damon really didn't want that to happen.

"My terrible upbringing, but that's dwell into that, shall we?" He suggests, shutting his eyes, fingers gripping both Ms. Cuddles and his daylight ring tightly in either hand. "We have a certain Bennett to save and little time to do so."

Damon lets out a breath of relief when Valarie doesn't press on the subject.

"Any last words?"

The question is spoken out loud by Enzo, and Damon could've sworn he heard the man choke on his spit.

Not bothering to open his eyes —partly because he didn't want to close them again, but mostly because he didn't want to see what Enzo's expression would be after he says what he needs to say—Damon tells him in a very serious tone, "...Not really—just t-that if this doesn't work out and I do die, I want you to know that I am very sorry for what I put you through and I couldn't have been a better friend. And that...I'm sorry for what I also did for Bonnie, and I know it didn't work out last time, but in case of my departure, I left her something in an envelope. You'll find it in the pocket of my jacket—"

"—You're not going anywhere, Damon!" Enzo shouts with such fierceness that it causes goosebumps to appear on Damon's arm and he shivers. "Stop being such a drama-queen—"

"Enzo!" Damon yells back, and this time, he opens his eyes. His gaze instantly locks with Enzo's, but unlike his Whiskey brown ones, Damon's glacier orbs held an emotion so much stronger than Enzo could ever muster. And it had the British vampire almost toppling over. "I know I was terrible to you, but I have never once asked anything of you. But right now, I need you to do this one thing for me. Please."

Fear—never once had he ever seen Damon this afraid before.

But there was something behind it all: love.

But for who?

It wasn't hard to guess, but Enzo had his suspicions for years now, but still he keeps his mouth shut on the matter. There was something different about this kind of love though, and Enzo knew exactly what it was. He'd seen Damon sacrifice other people's live to his (pathetic) 'epic love' lying in a coffin, but he never witnessed the act of Damon actually sacrificing his own life to save someone. Enzo knew he should've been jealous, but he couldn't find it in himself to be so—not when Damon was the lying there, ready to give up everything to save somebody that's not even his.

Or...is she?

Enzo shakes his head at the thought, a scowl taking place on his lips. Coming out of his haze, he finds Damon still staring up at him, a pleading look in those blue eyes of his eyes and Enzo knew he wasn't going to win this fight.

"...Fine. What is it you want from me?" He asks, expecting Damon to smile but all he does is continue to frown.

"The enevelope—I need you to give it Bonnie. But only if I don't wake up."

Hesitantly, Enzo—slowly, but surely—nods. "I can do that—and Damon, there's something I need of you."

It's not question but a statement, Damon realizes. Even though he couldn't do much, he stills nods.

"What is it, Enzo?"

"Fight—I need—" Enzo shakes his head, pausing for a moment, knowing that doesn't sound right and instead says, "...Bonnie needs you to fight. You need to fight, Damon, or so help me God and I promise you it won't be the spell that kills you but me if you die. And if you die, I'll resurrect you just to bring you back, you hear me? Fight."

Damon doesn't know what to say, so instead he only nods. "I will, Enzo. I will fight my hardest."

And with that, his eyes flutter shut and the last thing he hears is Valarie chanting and the picture of a certain emerald-eyed beauty dancing around in his mind as a darkness falls over him.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please leave a review if you enjoyed it! Sorry if it's short and for the many cliffhangers. Until next time!