Huge thanks to Grace4Delena(fanfiction net ) aka Frickholic(twitter). She is the best friend and beta I could ask for. She helped me so much in this chapter with her Damon-expertise. She loves him, people! She gets him more than anybody else!

More ranting at the end of the chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own TVD, even though I'd love to!

Look what he's done to you.

It isn't fair.

Those pictures in your mind.

Keep you locked up inside your past.

M.W.~ Broken girl

Elena could hear the soft thud of Damon's steps as he made his way into the Gilbert house. She opened her eyes a little, and John's pained face suddenly filled her vision. She closed them again, and buried her head back into Damon's shirt. Her forehead was pressed right on top of his heart, and its loud but steady beating against her skin felt nice, comforting.

"How is she?" John asked in a gentle tone that she had honestly never heard him using before.

"How does she look?" Damon replied through gritted teeth.

"Bad."

"Well, she's worse," he muttered, already climbing up the stairs, not in the slightest interested in chit-chatting with John Gilbert.

"Wait, Damon! Where are you going?" John questioned, practically running to keep up with the vampire. "Elena needs help, and I don't trust that you will be good enough for that, or that you won't take advantage of her."

Elena felt Damon stopping dead on his tracks as he sucked in a deep breath. His chest widened as it filled with air, and his hold on her tightened a little.

"Listen to me, Gilbert," he all but growled, slightly turning so that he could glare at the human over his shoulder "when I found Elena, she was hysterical. It took me the longest five minutes of my life to make her snap out of her trance, and I will not have her slip back into that dark place, got it? I don't trust anyone else to give her as much care as she needs right now, so save the lecture about protecting her virtue for another time, okay? It's obvious that she trusts me, and anyway, I am a vampire, not a cracked up maniac."

Having said that, Damon blurred to Elena's bedroom, closing the door with his foot. He glanced down at the girl in his arms, and his mouth fell open when he found her staring up at him. He hadn't realized she had been conscious.

"Sorry I woke you up," he whispered, ever so gently putting her down on the mattress. He rearranged the pillows, so that she wasn't completely flat, and straightened his back. He spotted the wardrobe across from the bed…she is going to need fresh clothes.

A small hand grabbed his jean-clad thigh and he looked down surprised. Sure enough, Elena was clutching at him, and when their eyes met, she swallowed hard.

"Don't go," she breathed softly, his image now hazy through her tears.

"I am not going anywhere," Damon promised, kneeling beside her, and grabbing her hand. Her wide eyes were fixed on him, and his heart swell with emotion. It seemed like she believed he held all of the answers, all of the solutions. And in that moment, he decided he wanted to be that man. The man that she could trust, the man that she could always count on. But he also dreaded the day when he would fail her. Because he would, eventually.

Elena focused on the simple task of breathing in and out as Damon's thumb stroked her knuckles. His presence had a calming effect on her, she refused to let him go. There was a dark hole in the back of her mind, one that threatened to swallow her the second she let go of her board of sanity. Her board of sanity that was none other than the beautiful man before her.

"Elena, I want to help you," his voice broke her train of thoughts "I know you are in pain, and the fastest way to get rid of it is if you let me heal you." He hadn't said the actual word, he had merely implied it. Blood.

Her eyelids closed tightly, and images flashed behind them, images that would be forever etched into her memory. Matt, his terrified eyes when Stefan's arm went through him, his heart landing next to her, Caroline's screams, Jeremy's whimpers, her own tears, Stefan's face, Stefan's teeth, Stefan's hands, Stefan's laughter... It was echoing inside her mind, and her hands were twitching. She desperately wanted to clutch at her head, pull at her messy hair, as if that would help her forget. Instead, she took a deep breath, willing her frenzied heartbeat to slow down, and slowly nodded.

"Okay." Elena whispered, staring up at him with so much trust that he felt dizzy for a moment. Making sure not to break eye contact, he rolled up his right sleeve, and bit down on the inside of his wrist.

The jacket dropped from her shoulders, when Elena leaned closer to him, biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from screaming in pain. It felt like every inch of her body had been abused, she was sore all over.

"Here," Damon's voice was barely a whisper, as he extended his arm towards her. She was grateful that he didn't just shove it against her mouth. She wet her lips, hesitating for a few seconds, and Damon nodded reassuringly. Her fingers trembling, she gently wrapped them around his wrist, taken aback by how warm his skin was. Just do it, Elena, she thought to herself, and experimentally ran her tongue over the gash that his sharp teeth had created on his flesh. The blood didn't have that coppery taste that she was familiar with from the numerous paper cuts she'd gotten in her life. It was fresh, rich, full of energy. She could almost sense the few drops she'd drank running through her veins, all the way up to her brain. There were no doubts anymore. Clarity had replaced the big grey cloud of confusion, of uncertainty. If she knew one thing, it was that she needed Damon's blood. It was the only thing that could help her get back to her feet. The only thing that could help her get over all that she had gone through.

Damon gritted his teeth as Elena squeezed his hand, and finally started hungrily sipping at his blood. She was drinking fast, sounds that she probably didn't acknowledge coming out of her mouth. He tried to focus on her injuries that were one by one fading away from her body. He felt satisfied that he was playing such a crucial part in her healing process, even though he wished she hadn't been in need of it.

"Okay, that's enough," Damon said suddenly, and Elena gasped as his hand slipped away from her grasp. She was out of breath, like she had been running for an hour, and she felt ready to conquer the world. She dragged her body to the side of the bed, rising up and smiling when she didn't feel a single pain shooting through her. She had found it hard to believe that she'd actually feel like this again. Normal. Your friends are dead because of you, how dare you forget that? She flinched at the stern voice in her mind, turning her head to the side to hide her expression from Damon. He was worried enough as it was. She shouldn't be adding more fuel to the fire.

"Are you okay?" Damon asked, standing next to her, but keeping his hands to himself. He wanted to hug her, to hold her close to his body and never let go. But it didn't matter what he wanted. He should be careful around her from now on. He should under no circumstances scare her.

"Yes, I am, thanks to you," she whispered "but I want to have a shower now. I'm all…" she glanced down at her form. Yes, the bite marks were gone, but the dried blood was still there. It looked like dark brown pieces of fabric were sewed onto her flesh. She shook her head.

"I will be here, when you come out."

"Okay."

She had opted for long sweat pants and a baggy T-shirt. Showing off her body wasn't something she felt like doing in the moment. Not because Damon would be there, but because the idea of wearing shorts reminded her of how naked she had felt under Stefan's lustful gaze. She shuddered for a moment, before sifting her attention to her reflection on the mirror. To a stranger she would look like a normal teenager. No one could guess what had happened to her, what she had witnessed. But she… she would never forget. The pain, the despair, the guilt… They would always be there with her, for the rest of her life.

Gathering as much confidence as she had left, she walked back into her bedroom. Like he had promised, Damon was there, even though she didn't remember that cuddling with her teddy was part of their deal. The bear's fluffy paw waved at her, and she chuckled, beyond amused at how far he would go to lift her spirits. A few days ago she wouldn't have imagined Damon and teddies in the same sentence.

She gingerly sat down on the bed, still not having perceived that her body was fully healed. She was deliberately moving slowly, preparing for the pangs of pain that would never come.

"How did you do it?" she asked, proud that her voice didn't break. "How did you save me?" Damon closed his eyes, and for a moment she wondered if maybe she hadn't spoken the words. Perhaps she had imagined her lips moving, it wouldn't be that weird if she had started going crazy.

"We don't have to talk about this right now, Elena. What matters is that you and Jeremy are both alive."

"Where is Jeremy, anyway?" she asked, mentally slapping herself for not thinking of him sooner. This was her brother, who'd suffered because of her.

"Anna took him at their house. Don't worry, she'll take good care of him."

"And where… where is Jenna? I didn't see her when you brought me home." Damon looked away.

"She's at Alaric's place. We thought that it would be best if she didn't have any involvement with all these."

"That is nice," she nodded "But I still want to know. I need to understand."

Damon sighed, placed the teddy bear against the pillow next to him, and sat up straighter.

"Okay, then," he couldn't deny her anything. If that was what she felt would help her recover, then so be it. "Anna and Pearl, her mother, approached me last night. They told me about him holding the two of you at the Boarding house. That's how I found myself at the doorstep. After I left, I ran back to their house. We spent hours struggling to come up with a solution. But we needed a witch. And we couldn't find one."

"So, then what happened?" He stared a while at her expression. She didn't look vulnerable, or maybe she had managed to expertly hide it. However, he couldn't relax just, yet. He was certain that at some point Elena would have a breakdown, she had to have one. He could only imagine the mayhem of feelings inside her after everything that had transpired, and she would eventually have to let them out. He just promised to himself he would be there when that would happen. He would be there to offer her any sort of comfort she would request.

"So, then, John appeared."

"John?" there was a tone of incredulity in her voice. Not that he could blame her. They had all been shocked by that particular turn of events. "Yes, John. He had somehow figured out what was going on, and he brought help."

"A witch?"

"A witch, and… somebody else."

"Somebody else, who?" this time he hesitated for several moments. Was it really a good idea to let her in on the fact that her dead ringer was in town? "Damon," she reached out to touch his knee. His eyes followed the movement, her delicate fingers lightly settling over his jeans. "I think I have proven to everyone that I can handle bad news. And honestly… how bad could this be?"

"He brought Katherine with him."

She drew back her hand as if she'd been burned, and Damon mentally cursed himself. Why did he have to start listening to her now? He should have just skipped this part. Of course it would be too much for her.

"Katherine as in…" he nodded, and Elena gulped loudly.

"Why would he bring her? I get that he might have been interested in saving us, we're his family, but… Katherine? She doesn't even know us. And from what I've heard you all saying about her, she's not the kind of person who cares what happens to others."

"I don't know. I'm groping in the dark, just like you are. Her going all Mother Teresa on us got me thinking, too, but she wasn't exactly willing to explain her reasons. Shocker."

Elena frowned as she took in Damon's sour expression. It was hard to keep it in mind, but this was the man who'd spent over a century looking for, waiting to save Katherine. He had been in love with her.

"It must have been confusing for you," she breathed, and he looked up at her in surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"I am sure that you have several things to say to her, but given the circumstances you didn't have the chance to. Still, you had to work with her."

"When you put it that way…" he shrugged "I've always wished for five minutes alone with her in a room. You know… drinking vervain-spiked wine, and then taking a trip down memory lane to talk about the freak show that was our relationship... beating the crap out of each other. Or possibly, me kicking her double-sided ass."

Sarcasm. Damon's constant friend, shield and weapon all together. It was good for her to know that some things hadn't changed. That some people hadn't changed.

"And the witch broke through Bonnie's spell," Elena asked, bringing back a safer topic, one that she could clinically approach, without her raging emotions interfering.

"That's right. Lucy is actually a strong witch, definitely a more experienced one than Bonnie. As soon as the shield was down, Anna went for Jeremy, I went for you, while Pearl and Katherine held him down."

"You can say his name, you know," she pointed out, brushing her hair out of her chest and behind her shoulder.

"I don't want to," Damon said in an almost terrifyingly calm voice. "It makes me picture his face, and if I do that I will leave you alone and go hunt him down."

"He's out there?" her heart sped up, for the first time that evening, and her fist tightened at the sheets.

"No," he shook his head. "He's not. Pearl called me while you were showering, and they have him at the basement. He's not going to hurt you, Elena. Or anybody else. I promise you that."

"Don't do that," she breathed so softly he barely heard her "don't make promises that have nothing to do with you. If he does anything, if Stefan does anything, it won't be your fault. Or anybody else's for that matter. He is the one that has to be blamed."

"It's not that simple," Damon protested, rubbing his face. "I wish it was, but it's not. Elena," he grabbed her hand without thinking, it was an instinctive move. She didn't recoil from him, she didn't show any signs of discomfort. Instead, she squeezed his hand back, reassuringly. "Elena, I was so angry at you. And I let it affect me."

"Don't do that."

"It's my fault, Elena, don't you see? I should have figured out what Stefan was up to, or I should have at least kept you away from him."

"Damon, stop this madness," Elena begged him "it's not your fault. I pushed you away, I told you I didn't want your help, I was horrible to you. I don't blame you for what happened. I blame Stefan, and my own stupidity."

"You're not stupid." There was so much conviction in his voice. But no amount of conviction could change her mind on that matter.

"Yes, I am. And because of me, Caroline and Matt… are gone."

Sadness filled him. There was no point in trying to persuade her otherwise, at least not yet, and he hated it.

"I want you to go get them out of that place," she said, tears slowly starting to build in her eyes. "They deserve a proper funeral, although I have no idea how we're going to explain their d-"

"We will come up with something," he promised, and she nodded.

"I want you to go now. I can't bear the idea of them just being there any longer…"

"Elena, I don't think leaving you alone is the best idea right now." She couldn't help but smile at his protectiveness.

"John is here, if I need anything. And I would like to talk to him, anyway. I don't want you keeping back from your own life because of what happened to me."

"Elena," he spoke her name firmly, grabbing her attention instantly "there is no other place I'd rather be. I am not being here out of the kindness of my dead heart. I'm here because I need to be. And I'm just not leaving you alone. Okay? Are we clear?" She chuckled, even though her heart broke at his words. She didn't deserve him. She didn't deserve his kindness after she had treated him so poorly.

"Crystal."

"Okay, then," he stood up carefully, so as not to disturb her. "If you're sure you don't need anything from me, I'll head at the Boarding house." She nodded. "I will have my phone on me at all times, so, call if you need anything."

"Thank you, Damon, for everything," she murmured "and I know that I say it a lot, but I really mean it." He smiled.

"I will be back later."

And with that, he was gone, leaving Elena alone in her bedroom, as the tears she'd been trying to hold back for his shake, came rushing down her cheeks.

Fingers. They were running over her skin, leaving a burning trail of fear behind them and his laughter echoed in the big house. She struggled, she kicked, and pushed, but he was always there. Always holding her tight, always staring down at her with that amused and cold expression on his face.

She shot up on the bed, the sheets tangled between her legs, beads of sweat making their way down the sides of her face. Elena gasped for breath, moaning in distress when she couldn't get her body freed. The door to her bedroom snapped open, making her movements seize and her eyes focus on the figure standing there.

"Elena…" She vaguely recognized the voice. Something in the corner of her mind shifted as he looked at her worriedly. But she didn't have the strength to push through the confusing daze. There was only one coherent thought in her head at the moment, one perfectly detailed image, one name.

"Damon. I want Damon," she whispered urgently, and John nodded silently, his hands already searching into his pocket for his phone, his mind refusing to process the fact that he was letting a vampire he hated help his abused daughter.

Elena pushed herself closer to the head of the bed, the covers following her like a twisted spider web. She did feel trapped. Like the helpless little bug that knows is going to become some spider's next meal. She had tried to be brave, she had tried to appear fine. She hoped that maybe she would even persuade herself, that she wouldn't be left completely traumatized after this horrible weekend. She couldn't have been any more wrong.

Her chest constricted tightly, pressing at her heart, crushing her lungs, and she chocked, grabbing a second pillow, and hugging it between her arms. She poured all of her fear, all of her sorrow on that pillow, her nails digging into its fine surface, until a faint tearing sound reached her ears. She kept applying pressure, and soon she could sense warm cotton tickling the skin up to her knuckles.

"What the hell did you do?" Damon growled quietly, blurring to stand next to John. He was observing Elena wordlessly, his lips drawn into a thin line, his fingers tightened into white fists.

"Nothing. She was… she was probably having a nightmare. I.. didn't know what to do, and she asked for you."

Damon inhaled through his nose, and tried to calm down. He stared at the girl a few feet away from him. She was so caught up in her own thoughts, and emotions that she had failed to notice his arrival. It was still dark inside the room, only the light from a small lamp on her desk barely illuminated her face, but it was enough. He could see her tears, he could see her terror, he could hear the frantic beating of her heart.

"Damon," there was a begging tone in the way she spoke his name.

"I'm right here, Elena," he replied, keeping his voice relatively slow so as not to startle her. She looked up at him instantly, a quiet sigh escaping her mouth, a flash of calm crossing her eyes. Her gaze flickered to John who coughed awkwardly and took a step back.

"I will be in the guest room," he whispered before closing the door and leaving them alone.

Damon approached the bed carefully, sitting down on its edge, his hands resting between his thighs, his neck craned so that he was facing her.

"How are you feeling?" Elena moved her fingers through the wool relentlessly as she bit down on her lower lip.

"Scared," she finally breathed. "I saw him in my sleep… I could feel his touch, I could… I could feel his teeth sinking into me, I…" her eyes welled with tears, and she closed them firmly.

Damon was aware of his chin trembling as he witnessed Elena's breakdown. He had supposedly been prepared for this, he knew it was normal. She was going to feel fear, and anger, and maybe even guilt. She had to find an outlet for her emotions, otherwise she would shatter in pieces. But nothing could have prepared him for this painful scene.

He didn't think; if he had actually taken a few moments to consider what he was doing, he would have never laid his hand on top of her bent knee. His eyes widened in horror when her entire body tensed under his touch. They were both holding their breaths, he could have practically been able to hear a needle dropping on the floor. Ever so slowly he started retracting his arm, mentally berating himself with the most colorful terms he'd picked up over the years.

It was his turn to go all rigid when she grabbed his retreating hand with her own. Their eyes locked, similar expressions of uncertainty in them. She delicately placed his hand back in place, their fingers interlocking.

When fresh tears started traveling down her cheeks, Damon could almost feel her distress slipping inside his body through their connected hands, relieving her aching heart. They didn't talk, they merely sat across each other, Elena silently crying, and Damon literally being there for her. And that was all she needed, really. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Her stomach had already been growling for about an hour, when she found the courage to wipe her face and stand from the bed.

"I need to go eat something." Damon coughed, and she looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "What?"

"There is something I have to tell you…" he murmured, making her grab the edges of her shirt and tighten her fingers around the thin material.

"That doesn't sound good." Damon shrugged his shoulders, searching for the best way to deliver the news.

"When I went at the Boarding House, I found your friend's, Matt's body," he started, nervously twisting his daylight right around his middle finger. "But instead of Caroline, I found Katherine waiting for me."

Elena's head shot back in surprise.

"What do you mean? Wh-… where is Caroline?" She didn't know what to think anymore.

"Caroline isn't dead, Elena," Damon stated, going for the bandage technique. She opened and closed her mouth for a few times, obviously at a loss for words.

"I killed her, Damon," she eventually whispered, head hanging low, eyes fixed on the wooden floor. She could vividly remember every single time she had thrust that knife into Caroline's smooth skin.

"No, you didn't," he shook his head "she was unconscious when we got there, almost dead, but not dead, yet. Katherine fed Caroline her blood."

"She did, what?" Elena screamed, her hand covering her forehead as the room around her suddenly blurred.

"She was too badly injured for the blood to heal her, so instead… it put her into transition." Elena's jaw dropped.

"Caroline is a vampire?" she couldn't wrap her mind around it. She didn't know how she felt about this turn of events. She hated that Caroline could have died under these circumstances, at this age, by her hand. But this… what if she didn't like it? What if she didn't want to live forever as a vampire?

"She's in transition," Damon stressed, bringing her back to reality "which means than when she wakes up, she will have to make a decision. But this is a good thing, Elena," he slowly stood up, standing in front of her, and catching her gaze. "It means you don't have to feel guilty. It means that she gets a second chance, and she can use it, she can decide on her own what to do."

Elena walked around him towards the door, her eyebrows furrowed in deep thought.

"I get that it's a good thing, but it's… it's too much right now. I just need to have some dinner, and go back to bed, before I can properly process this."

Damon nodded, realizing that she had reached her limit. He had pushed too far.

"Okay, do you want me to wait here for you?" This time she turned to look at him, openly staring at him as she regarded his suggestion. It was appealing, the prospect of having him by her side throughout the night to take care of her if she needed anything. It felt good when he helped her, she was certain he liked it, too. But deep down, she knew that at some point she would have to start standing on her own two feet. She appreciated everything Damon was doing for her, but she should learn to depend on herself again.

"Thank you, but I think I'll be all right. I'll call if things get out of control."

He was stuck somewhere in between disappointment and hope. So, he just nodded, and smiled softly.

With a gust of air, he had disappeared from the room, the window closing gently behind him. Elena took a deep breath and walked out of the bedroom. She could hear the faint murmur from the television in the living room playing, and someone was moving around in the kitchen. She hurriedly switched on the lights of the corridor, not wanting her journey downstairs to be filled with darkness and ominous shadows. It turned out to be easier than what she had expected, and putting one foot in front of the other, she quickly found herself standing outside the arc leading to the kitchen. John was in there, his back turned in her direction, using a long wooden spoon to stir the ingredients of something that was boiling in the kettle. She inhaled deeply, her nostrils flaring, and her stomach emitting another hungry groan at the unmistakable and promising aroma of chicken and potatoes.

Instinctively crossing her arms over her chest, she cleared her throat, loud enough to get John's attention. He gazed at her over his shoulder, smiling gently.

"I made some soup," he explained, pointing at the pot in front of him, and turning off the heat. "It's not exactly a gourmet plate, but it's cold outside, and I figured you would want something to eat before going to bed."

"Thank you," Elena whispered in response, and John hesitated for a few moments. Her face was controlled, exhibiting no emotions to make her look vulnerable. But her body language was a completely different story. He had to be careful. As much as he hated to admit it, Damon was right when he had said that they would need to treat her cautiously, so as not to scare her.

"Do you want me to fill a bowl for you? I was going to eat now, anyway…" he trailed, frowning at the cabinets.

"Third to your right," she offered helpfully.

Elena gingerly sat down on one of the stools, observing John as he prepared their meal. He was focused on his work, his gaze never once falling on her, even though she had the feeling that he was watching her from the corner of his eyes. It wasn't creepy, only slightly uncomfortable. She had never really liked him. He was judgmental, and frankly an ass. Now, she couldn't help but have a certain amount of gratefulness for him. It was very probable, that if it weren't for him, she would still be suffering in Stefan's arms.

"Thank you," she broke the silence, making him freeze mid-step. He was carrying a plate on each hand, and for a moment they wavered, before he regained control of his muscles. John tried to force all of his love for her into his eyes as he smiled at her, and set the steaming bowl in front of her.

"It's okay, I needed dinner as well, anyway." She shook her head.

"No, I meant…" she trapped the silver spoon between her fingers and toyed with it absentmindedly "thank you for bringing Katherine and that witch here." Their gazes locked and Elena was pretty certain this was the longest she had ever stared at him continuously. She hadn't noticed before, but there were tiny wrinkles forming around his eyes, and the locks resting against his temples were slowly starting to turn a shade of gray. "Damon told me what happened. I don't understand how or why you managed to get into touch with them, but I appreciate it. So, thank you."

"You're family, Elena," John whispered, struggling to keep his emotions in check. This was not the right time to reveal to her exactly how close of a family the two of them were. "You and Jeremy both are. There is nothing that I wouldn't do for you."

They say the beginning is the most important part of the work.

But when you've been abused, when your body and soul have been violated to the point you feel nothing but vulnerability and endless pain…..

In that case, the most important part is the person who is standing next to you.

The person who wants and will be there to hold your hand, to help you stand up, to remind you of who you really are.

First things first!

Guys, did you seriously believe that I would kill Caroline? Uhah. I love this girl. She brightens my stories, my life! She's light personified!

Now… this chapter focused on Elena, her first hours after she's back home, safe. I'll be honest with you. I've never written anything similar before. Elena was abused. She was ripped of her free will. She did kill her best friend. She can't just pounce back to her everyday life as if nothing happened. She won't feel so vulnerable for ever, but for a while, we'll follow her recovery. She'll get there, don't worry. She's a strong girl, and she has an even stronger person by her side. Damon.

I am aware that the Bonnie-issue wasn't addressed, but I don't believe Elena is ready to face that, yet. In the next chapter, we'll get to see how she feels about Bonnie's choice and death, about the whole Caroline thing, and about Stefan.

So, that's all for now! I am not sure when the next update will be. My schedule is kinda full at the moment. I'm struggling to study, regardless of the high temperature (is it winter, yet?), and I'm also working on two other stories. I'm finding my way back to LTLA, and I've started a new, AH, mystery story. That one won't be uploaded any time soon, though. I feel very self conscious about it!

So, you beautiful readers! Thank you for reading, and hopefully reviewing! Find me on twitter, for TVD rambling, or general discussion. I'm: ts_eirini

P.S. Does anyone else feel like she can't wait any longer for the season 4 premiere, or is it just me?