Chapter 12

Maybe then honesty need not be feared as a friend or an enemy
This is the distance
And this is my game face

"Would you stop pacing?" Caroline called out. "You're making me dizzy."

Damon momentarily stopped to turn and glare at his sister-in-law. "How am I supposed to stop pacing? I'm getting married today and my brother just told me that he doesn't think I should. Alaric looks like he's ready to down an entire bottle of scotch. And you," he shoved a finger in her direction, "You won't quit calling Elena and whispering about god knows what over there with my traitorous brother."

Stefan sighed. "I'm not a traitor, Damon. I'm your brother and I'm being honest with you."

"Yeah, well keep it to yourself next time."

"Why? Why should I keep my mouth shut? We all know that you never do."

"Okay, I think we should all go to our separate corners for a little bit." Alaric stood up from the chair he'd practically buckled himself into since Caroline showed up. "Everyone is stressed and we just need to take a breather and calm down."

"Come on, Ric, you think this is as bad of an idea as I do."

"I think that Damon is an adult and he's going to do what he wants, whether I approve or not. I think we just need to all calm down."

"I think Damon needs to wake the hell up," Caroline said from next to Stefan.

"And I think that you need to mind your own business," he snapped at her. "I know that's a foreign idea to you, Caroline, but right now it would do you some good to shut the fuck up."

"Hey!" Stefan shouted. "You need to watch it."

Damon laughed incredulously. "I need to watch it? Why am I the problem here? I didn't show up and ask someone not to get married. I didn't just tell my brother he shouldn't get married. And I'm not sitting around with some judgmental little look on my face because my selfish best friend has dropped off the face of the earth."

"Because you broke her heart, Damon. What part of you doesn't understand that?"

"I understand things more than you think I do, but I can't worry about Elena or care about her precious little feelings. What part of that do you not understand?"

He had devoted so much time and effort to Elena and everything that she felt. He'd cared to the point of detriment, but he couldn't do that anymore. It had gotten him nowhere in the past and he'd moved on. He couldn't be held accountable for the fact that Elena hadn't, and he couldn't spend his wedding day making things okay for her, wherever she happened to be.

"You're impossible," Stefan groaned. "If you'd take a step back, you'd realize that I'm trying to help you. We're all trying to help you."

"It really doesn't feel that way Stefan."

"Because you're not listening to what we are saying. You're my brother and I love you. You know that I would never lie to you. I know you want me to be on your side, but that's exactly what I'm doing. I'm on your side in this, Damon. It's the only side I'm on."

A piercing cry sliced through the tension in the room, successfully bringing an abrupt halt to the strained conversation between the two brothers. All adults looked down to the tiny bundle of blue cradled in Stefan's arms. He watched as his brother peered down at his son, trying to distinguish what had pulled him from his sleep.

Caroline stared down at her son as well, running a soft finger over his chubby cheeks. When he turned toward her finger, she smiled softly and began to retrieve him from her husband's arms. "I think someone is hungry." She nestled the tiny child in her arms and lifted her bag from the chair she'd set it in earlier. "I'm going to go feed him, please don't kill each other in the meantime."

Damon's gaze followed his sister-in-law as she made her way back toward the main bedroom in the penthouse, listening as she quietly spoke to her fussy child. Stefan placed a heavy hand on his shoulder that he knew was meant to be comforting, yet it was anything but. He shrugged the hand from his shoulder and turned away from his brother's scrutinizing gaze.

"Damon," he tried softly.

"Stop." He cut his brother off before he could continue with whatever it was he wanted to say. He walked over toward the windows to stare out at the city yet again, searching for something, anything that would give him peace. "Just stop, Stefan. It's done."

Damon pulled his coat off as he approached the bar, taking a moment to admire Elena bending over and grabbing a tray of glasses from a cabinet behind the bar. The shorts hugged her backside in just the right way and her thin t-shirt rode up enough to give him a taste of her smooth back. He didn't bother to avert his eyes as she stood up and turned around. When she caught sight of him and where his eyes had been glued, she smiled amusedly and shook her head. "Like what you see?"

He nodded his head. "I very much like what I see."

She set the glasses down on a ledge in front of her and leaned over the bar to give him a quick kiss. "What are you doing here?" she asked as she took his jacket from him to deposit it behind the bar so it wouldn't get dirty. "I thought you had some business dinner."

"Ended early. I'm just that brilliant." Not to be obnoxious, but he was that brilliant. He had had dinner with the daughter who had recently taken over her father's international electronics corporation and all the best advertising agencies in the city were fighting to land the company as their newest client. He'd had the deal sealed before the entrée was served.

Not needing to be asked, Elena began pouring a glass of scotch for Damon, but she wore a clouded expression on her face. "Let me guess," she sighed and slid his drink across the bar before continuing, "It was a girl."

Damon froze up at Elena's question. She'd just gone for his girl jugular. Jealousy was something he didn't know how to handle. He'd encountered jealousy with women he'd dated, it was something he should have gotten used to a long time ago, but the truth was he completely sucked at dealing with it. He knew the effect he had on women and he regularly used it if it would benefit him. Tonight, using his charm had benefited him to the tune of millions of dollars, so of course he was going to use it. Just because he flirted with women and made them feel special didn't mean he was going to sleep with every single one.

Well, not today, at least.

He and Elena weren't even dating. They were having sex and enjoying their friendship. He didn't think he had to deal with jealousy, but by the look on her face, he was apparently dead wrong. It didn't frustrate him or confuse him, he understood it; he didn't find particular enjoyment in watching other men throw themselves at her either, but it didn't get his panties in a twist.

"Yes," he finally acknowledged. "It was a girl."

"Okay." She smiled but it was a tight one. "I have to get to work. I'll try to stop back down here in a bit."

He's only left alone with his drink for a few minutes before Stefan and Caroline descend on him. They're still in that blissful, "I'm having sex anywhere and everywhere I can get it" phase of the honeymoon period and a part of him hates them for it. It's not that he's not getting any, he's obviously getting plenty and from the hottest woman he knows. Well, maybe he isn't getting plenty at the moment, but he usually was. Things were tense between he and Elena right now. This left room for his least favorite phase of the honeymoon period called the "my life is so perfect right now, it gives me the right to tell everyone else how to fix theirs" phase. And that drove him up the damn wall, or through a window. He's definitely contemplated the window scenario.

They don't even untangle their hands to hug Damon, just make do with the one free arm they have and then fall back against each other as if the distance was far too much. Yeah, has he mentioned that they completely suck? They really do.

Because their bliss is only shoving in his face that something is brewing inside of Elena. Things went back to normal after she got sick a little more than a month ago, but a couple weeks ago, things changed again. He didn't really know how to describe it other than tense. Sometimes things were fine, but then others, she was distant and withdrawn. He didn't know where it had come from or what it was about, but he was almost scared to ask. He didn't want what they had to end yet, so he brushed off the weird moments and convinced himself that everything was really fine.

"Okay." Damon's voice was slow but loud as he extended his arm and pulled his hand down between Caroline and Stefan's faces, essentially drawing an imaginary line between the couple. "Disengage." When they looked at him and didn't immediately go right back to kissing, he offered his thanks. "Thank you for that. Now, can we put into effect the paper rule for the duration of our evening?"

"What is the paper rule?" Stefan questioned.

Caroline rolled her eyes in annoyance. "The rule you had in middle school dances that you had to be able to fit a piece of paper between you and your partner. Couldn't let anything too sexual go on while Usher corrupted us with his music."

"Not surprised that you're the one of that duo to know about the rule. Let me guess, you were regularly found in violation of it?"

"Whatever," Caroline scoffed, but unlike six months ago, her annoyed responses to him now held a trace of warmth. She didn't always sound like she wanted to shove his face into a blender and turn it on Pulse. "I'm going to go talk to Elena for a minute and get us some drinks."

She, of course, had to give Stefan a parting kiss before she went to find Elena. The brothers were then left alone, Damon swishing his alcohol around in his glass and Stefan twisting his wedding band on his finger. "I see you picked the habit up." Damon smiled and lifted his left hand in clarification when he received a blank stare from his brother.

Stefan looked down at his ring and then up at Damon, a soft smile on his face. "I guess so."

"It means you're officially a married man when you play with your ring when your wife isn't around." He'd picked up the habit after he married Katherine. At first, it had been because he suddenly had this foreign circle of metal around his finger. He'd had to constantly twist it just to make it not feel so new and uncomfortable. Then, it was simply a habit, something that reminded him of Katherine. Over fifteen years later and his father still twisted his wedding band on his finger. "I know it's pointless to ask, but how is married life going?"

Stefan's smile nearly exploded across his face. His green eyes were shining with excitement and his whole body had snapped to attention. "It's great. I can't believe I ever got cold feet. It's awesome."

Damon chuckled softly at his brother's enthusiasm. He had a love for adjectives, that was for sure. "I'm glad," he said sincerely. "You two look good."

"Dad had us over for dinner the other night; he gave her a compliment."

"What was the catch?" After knowing his father for 28 years, Damon knew that his father did not hand out compliments without a reason. The man didn't like anybody.

'There wasn't one." Stefan shook his head, a slight look of disbelief in his eyes. "I think he actually likes Caroline. He was never mean to her when we were dating, but I think he really, truly likes her. He even smiled."

"Okay, how drunk were you?"

"Completely sober. I hadn't even finished my second drink. I swear to you, it was an honest to god smile."

"And here we thought I'd set the bar high with Katherine and him never calling her a whore. I think you now reign supreme in the ultimate significant other category." If people thought it was hard to please a Salvatore man that you were dating, it was even harder to please the father of a Salvatore man.

Between Damon and Stefan they had never brought home a girl that their father actually liked. He'd sent plenty home in tears and humiliated. Some he'd even tried to buy off. Others, he just ignored, wouldn't even acknowledge their presence. So, when Giuseppe had done none of those things with Katherine, they had naturally assumed that Damon had found the Holy Grail. Or, as Damon now knew, the best manipulator of the male species, known to mankind. Stefan, in all of his overachieving glory, had come out of left field and gotten their father to accept Caroline. He figured he probably wasn't alone in assuming that Caroline would be the last person that Giuseppe Salvatore would ever like.

"Since we're on the subject of dad," Stefan began nervously, "He asked a few questions about who you're seeing. He wants to meet Elena."

"No." The answer was quick and concise, not even a moment needed to contemplate the answer. No way in hell was his father going to meet Elena. It wasn't happening.

"He saw you two at the wedding and he's apparently heard some things. He wants you to bring her over for dinner."

"Not happening, and don't you dare try to talk me into it. You like Elena, right?" Stefan nodded silently. "Then why would you subject her to that torture?"

"It won't be that bad."

"Remember when we'd want to break up with girlfriends, but we didn't want to deal with the drama? What did we do?" He asked the question slowly, enunciating every syllable like Stefan was stupid.

"Brought her home to dad," he admitted quietly. "Okay, so it wouldn't be a fun dinner. I'm just letting you know what he said. If he thinks you're trying to hide her from him he'll only get suspicious and start digging for information."

"Well, I'm not even dating her. There's no reason to take my fuck buddy home to meet daddy."

Stefan cringed at the crass language. "That was uncalled for. Caroline would slap you if she heard you say that."

"What? It's how he'll see it." He understood the words were rude and a low blow. He didn't see Elena that way in the slightest. Just because he didn't though, didn't mean his father wouldn't. There was no reason for him to subject Elena to an evening with his father. Hell, he didn't even deserve it most of the time.

Stefan turned to see where his wife was before turning back to Damon. He took a step closer to his brother and asked, "You really believe that you and Elena aren't doing anything more than sleeping together?"

"We're friends." He casually shrugged his shoulders. "But if you're getting at us being serious, you're wrong. She's not my girlfriend and she's not going to be my girlfriend."

"Then why do you treat her like she is?" he questioned bluntly. "You haven't been on a date with another girl since before Las Vegas. Yet, you seem to have no problem taking Elena out to dinner."

"So, because I feed the girl, I'm suddenly her boyfriend?"

Stefan scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I have never met anyone more dense than you. You're seriously impossible to deal with."

Damon flashed his signature smirk. "I come by it naturally." Stefan opened his mouth to form some kind of retort, but Damon shoved him aside as he saw Alaric approaching. "Ric, so nice to have a friend around!"

"No!" Ric held his arms up and backed away from Damon. "Whatever you two are bickering about, I am not getting in the middle. Keep me out of it!"

"We're not bickering about anything. I just need you to tell my baby brother here that what Elena and me are doing is not dating."

"Nope." He shook his head, refusing to budge. "I'm keeping my mouth shut." He eyed Damon warily as he passed him, leaving a wide space between them. He stopped in front of the bar and looked between the brothers. "I know how this goes. I'll say something and then one of you will get pissed off because I think the other is stupid or some other petty shit like that, and you'll both gang up on me. I'm not doing that tonight. I'm ordering a drink and finding a pretty lady to keep me company for the evening."

"I think you're aiming a little high there buddy." Damon swung his arm around Ric's shoulders. "Let's stick to what you can handle. I'm thinking 21-year-old with daddy issues and too drunk to care that you're some boring history teacher that lives in a crappy studio apartment."

Ric shoved Damon away from him. "Dick."

"No violence, boys." Elena appeared in front of them and waved her finger at them. "Don't make me kick you out."

Caroline joined the group again and offered a warm welcome to Alaric before tucking herself under Stefan's arm and handing him a drink. "So, what brought this newest act of immaturity on?" she questioned, looking at all three men with curious eyes. Stefan tensed up, something Damon saw Caroline recognize immediately. She moved her gaze to Stefan. "What was it?"

He took a long sip of his drink, his eyes meeting Damon's over the rim of the glass. When he didn't offer any response and roamed his eyes through the growing crowd at the bar, Stefan lamely offered, "Nothing, just stupid stuff."

He could feel Caroline pin him with a stern gaze. "What's going on?"

Damon swung his eyes to Caroline. "Just brotherly disagreements. That's all." Damon looked down the bar at a rowdy group. "Um, Elena," he motioned to the other end of the bar, " I think you may need to get a towel."

Everyone looked at him in confusion, but Elena questioned, "What?"

"Guy, red shirt, he's gonna throw up in three, two—" Before he could get to one, the blonde guy in the red shirt got sick, causing a wave among his friends as they all jumped back. He cringed and said, "Ooh, there he goes."

In his years, he'd seen the look dozens of times. Everyone, no matter what age, had the same face before they got sick.

Caroline turned to look but then spun her head back around. "God, that's disgusting."

"Some people just can't hold their liquor."

Elena rolled her eyes and grabbed a towel from beneath the bar. "Great," she grumbled, "This is just what I need tonight."

She began to walk to the other end of the bar to fulfill a very unsavory task as a bartender, but before she could move two feet, she froze, and the color drained from her face. He saw her mumble something to herself and clamp her hand over her mouth. She spun on her heels and ran off, dropping the towel to the floor as she disappeared out of sight.

Caroline looked at the vapor trail Elena left in her wake. "Oh god." She sighed and pulled away from Stefan. "That's not good." She rushed after her friend, a worried expression on her face.

Damon stared down the hallway Elena disappeared down, wondering what had just happened. She hated that part of the job but he knew she'd handled it before without running off to the bathroom. He rounded the bar and grabbed her bottle of water that she kept handy at all times. Stefan watched as he set his beverage down on the bar and filled a glass with ice. "What are you doing?"

He looked up at his brother and rolled his eyes. "Taking her some water. What does it look like?"

"Okay," he said slowly, but the look on his face indicated that he had plenty more he wanted to say. Most days, he'd tell his brother to just say it, but right now, Elena was sick in the bathroom. He could badger his brother later.

He could hear frenzied chatter on the other side of the door, but the moment he knocked on the door everything went silent. Confused, he pushed the door open. Elena was on the floor giving him an agonizing look before turning her head and closing her eyes. Caroline was staring at Elena, a worried but annoyed look on her face. She simply sighed and pressed a cool paper towel to Elena's forehead as he closed the door behind him and crouched down beside her. "You okay?" She opened her eyes briefly before closing them again and shaking her head as he reached a hand out and gently brushed her hair behind her ear. "What happened?"

"I don't know. I just got sick."

"Think it's the stomach flu again?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, maybe."

"Here," he held out the glass of water, "I thought this might help."

"Thanks." She sighed and grabbed the glass of water from him and finished half the glass before handing it back to him. "God, I feel disgusting."

"I think you should go home for the night," Caroline said. "Mark is supposed to be here soon anyway, right?"

"Yeah, he starts at ten."

"Okay, that's twenty minutes from now. I'm sure someone can hold the bar down until he gets here."

Damon looked at Caroline. "Why don't you and Stefan handle things here and I'll take her home?"

"No," she quickly shook her head. "I should probably get her back to her apartment. Friend thing and all that." Those were the words she was saying, but her face was telling him a completely different story. Caroline wanted him to go home with Elena. Why, he didn't know, but he knew she didn't want to go.

"No, really," he insisted. "I can get her home and if she needs you she'll call you." He stood up and reached down to help Elena to her feet. "Sound good?"

She was slow standing up, but once she was up, she looked at him, a torn expression on her face. "I don't know; it's a Friday night. You don't want to spend it with me in my bathroom."

"Elena," he cupped her face in his hands and said, "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else tonight. If you're sick, I'm taking care of you."

Her eyes watered at his words. "Really?"

He pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead before pulling back and looking her in the eyes again. "Really."

Caroline stood up and gently grabbed Elena's arm. "Just call me if you need anything, okay?"

"I will," she promised. The two friends shared an intense look that probably held more than he said in an entire conversation before they turned away from each other.

Damon wrapped an arm around Elena's waist and gave it a gentle pat. "Let's get you home." He guided her back to the bar where he retrieved both of their jackets and said goodbye to everyone before exiting and hailing a cab. Normally they would walk back to her place, but with how pale she still looked, he figured this was the easiest. Once they were in the cab he reached out and felt her forehead. "You don't feel like you have a fever."

"I think it was just the smell." She tiredly leaned her head against the cool window of the cab, placing distance between their bodies. "I don't even know what happened. I was going to clean it up and then I just knew I was going to be sick too."

"If only people knew when to quit drinking."

"It would make my job a lot easier," she mumbled.

He grew silent as he allowed Elena to rest during the small trip to her apartment. His mind kept flashing back to the short moments he'd spent in the bathroom. He'd interrupted something with Caroline and Elena when he'd knocked on the door and from the look on Caroline's face, it was nothing small. It was now that he was realizing it hadn't been the first time in the past few weeks that things had also seemed tense between Caroline and Elena. He'd even told Caroline to back off last week when she was being particularly annoying. She hadn't taken to that too kindly.

Oh shit.

Oh shit, he cared about Elena.

It was all so unbelievably clear as they drove through the loud streets of New York, Elena curled up in the corner of the seat. He was going home with her on a Friday night to take care of her. Damon didn't take care of people. He hated germs and even refused to be around his brother when he was sick. Yet, he was jumping at the chance to take Elena home, even though Caroline was perfectly capable. He was standing up for her to Caroline. He had kept her sheltered from his father, unable to subject her to the torture he would inflict upon her. Stefan was absolutely right! He was treating her like a girlfriend, and he wasn't even being forced into it.

For some reason, he wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. If he was being honest with himself, he didn't rush the deal at dinner tonight to prove how charming he was; he rushed it because he wanted dinner to be over. He wanted to come see her. He wanted to go home with her tonight.

"Oh shit."

Elena sat up and looked at him. "What? What's wrong?" His eyes were frozen, staring at nothing and everything in front of him, trying to figure out how he'd gotten here, to this point, right now. How had this happened? "Damon?" Elena grabbed his face and turned him to face her. "Damon."

He quickly shook his head, causing her hands to drop. "Sorry," he choked out as he opened and closed his eyes a few times. He tried to clear the thoughts from his head and focus on her. "I thought I'd forgotten to send out an important document today."

"Do you need to go to the office?"

"No, I dropped it on my secretary's desk before I left. I just forgot."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." The taxi came to a stop outside of her apartment building. "Let's get you inside." He dug his wallet out of his jacket and handed the money over to the taxi driver before stepping out of the taxi and helping her out.

She was silent as they walked up to her apartment. She kept her coat wrapped tightly around her body, a pensive expression on her face. In this moment, he'd never so desperately wanted to know what was going through one person's head. Did she feel the same way? Had Caroline been right when she'd said Elena cared? Was this why she'd been so different lately?

That was all he could think about as he got ready for bed and tried to make sure that Elena had what she needed for the night. She was in the bathroom getting washed up, leaving him a few moments to try and process some of the thoughts going through his head, but they still seemed jumbled and confusing. He needed to talk to her and figure out what was going through her head.

Elena emerged from the bathroom and turned off the light behind her. Her movements were slow but automatic as she wore a dazed expression on her face. He watched her climb into her bed and become situated beneath the covers, staying completely silent. She made no attempts to look at him when she rested her head on the pillow, kept her eyes trained at the ceiling above her.

"Elena?" he questioned quietly. "Are you okay?" He rolled onto his side and propped himself up with his arm to watch her. His free hand drifted beneath the covers and splayed gently over her abdomen. At the contact, she flinched and her eyes finally shot over to his face. "Did you get sick again?"

She swallowed deeply and remained silent for a few more moments before nodding her head and whispering, "Yeah. I guess it is the stomach flu again."

"Do you need me to get you anything?" Elena's gaze moved back to the ceiling. Her skin was pale and her eyes were wide as she stared at the white spots above her head. "Elena?" When she continued to stare ahead, he decided he needed to jump in now. It was probably a bad time, but he couldn't stay silent. "I think we need to talk."

"I'm pregnant."

The words were like a gunshot that ricocheted through the silent room. His heart seemed to stop dead in his chest as every nerve in his body went rigidly cold. He was numb and painfully alive all at the same time. Every other thought faded from his brain as he stared down at her frozen form below him, never even shifting her gaze back to him.

"What?" He swallowed thickly, grimacing at the sandpaper feeling in his throat. His voice was choked and foreign to his own ears as he said, "I thought we were—." His voice gave out on him, unable to continue.

"I'm late," she whispered, but her voice was like a scream through the night. "I'm on the pill, I'm never late."

"Have you taken a test?" She shook her head back and forth on the pillow. "So then, there's still a chance you're not pregnant."

"I finished puberty years ago, but somehow my breasts have grown in the past month. I'm over a week late. I just threw up because of a smell." Her breath caught and he could see the tears glistening in her eyes. "I'm pregnant."

Damon threw the covers from his body and jumped out of bed. He'd just heard two words that he'd never thought he'd hear in his whole life, strung together. If Elena was right and she was pregnant, his life would never be the same. He'd just realized not even 20 minutes ago that he cared about her and now she was telling him she was pregnant.

"I am going to go to the drug store, get a test, and then we'll—." He couldn't finish the sentence, a habit he'd quickly adapted in the past five minutes. He sighed and pulled absentmindedly buttoned his shirt. "I'll be back."

The instant Damon had the front door to Elena's apartment closed, he fell back against the wall and a ragged breath fell from his lips. His heart was now pounding furiously in his chest, trying to break free from his rib cage. Every part of his body screamed at him to run and never look back. He couldn't do this. He was not meant for this. This was not supposed to happen to him. He wasn't supposed to have a kid. Elena was, but not with him.

A door slammed in front of Damon, pulling him from his panic enough to straighten and attempt to control his panic. The young stoner guy that lived across from Elena eyed him warily. "Dude, you look like you just saw a ghost."

He grimaced and rolled his eyes. He did not have time to deal with this right now. Without another glance, he ran down the stairs and all the way to the drug store just a block away. While he would have most certainly received judgmental looks if he were running through his neighborhood, he received none tonight. Elena lived in a neighborhood of fairly young neighborhood, surrounded by people too consumed in their own alcohol infused drama to even pay him any attention.

No one watched as he ran into the drug store and through every aisle until he finally came upon the pregnancy tests, which ironically were placed right next to the condoms. Was God trying to fuck with him? Because he cared about Elena, he was now supposed to be a dad?

The pregnancy tests all stared at him, openly mocking him for the position he'd gotten himself in. He was 28 years old; he did not knock a girl up. Things like that happened in high school and college. These accidents weren't supposed to happen to adults. They just weren't. And the longer he stared at the tests, the more confused he got. How was it possible to have so many different kinds of pregnancy tests? Were they really all needed? Either you were pregnant or you weren't. There didn't need to be 50 brands devoted to telling you whether your life was forever ruined.

Because that is exactly what his life would be if Elena is pregnant. Kids were not supposed to be in the cards for him. That was a box he closed when he signed the divorce papers. He'd been so blinded by love he thought having a child would be a great thing. Then, he woke up, looked at his life and realized it wouldn't be anything but horrible. He had no idea how to be a father. He'd been faced with a horrible example his entire life. All he'd ever be able to offer a child is the money to pay for all the therapy it would need after having him as a father.

That thought process led him to the checkout counter with approximately eight boxes of pregnancy tests. There would be no confusion when all was said and done tonight. He was going to have a definitive answer if he had to come back and buy out every single test the store had.

This time, he did receive a judgmental look. The woman in her mid-40s gave him a hard look as she took her time ringing up each test. There was no funny comment or piercing put-down on the tip of his tongue tonight though. He was judging himself right along with her. He looked absolutely ridiculous. Nobody who wanted to have a child bought this many pregnancy tests at this time of night on a Friday. Only fuckups like him were designated for that role.

When the clerk handed him the white plastic bag, it felt like bricks in his hand. And the closer he got to Elena's building, the heavier the bag got, and the heavier the bag got, the worse his fear got. These tests were going to define everything. In twenty minutes, his life would be forever changed, and he didn't know if he could do this yet. He didn't know if he could handle looking down at a positive pregnancy test without running straight back out of Elena's apartment. He wasn't ready for this.

With shaky hands, he dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed the only person that he could talk to right now. It didn't take long before he got the answer he needed. "Hey, what's up?"

"I've got a problem," he rushed out in a voice uncharacteristic to him. "A really big problem."

He could practically feel Stefan tense through the phone, waves of worry crashing through the small speaker. "What's wrong?"

"Elena's pregnant." He didn't allow the words a moment to hang in the air or sink in. No, he just plowed ahead. "At least, she says she is. She hasn't taken a test, but it sounds pretty likely." He choked out a breath and doubled over. "Holy shit," he gasped. "I can't do this. I can't have a kid, Stefan. And I am freaking out, because I probably am. I'm about to walk into Elena's apartment, hand her a bag of pregnancy tests, and find out that I'm having a kid. I'm then going to want to freak the fuck out, but I can't. Do you understand why I can't do that? She is going to panic. She is going to look at that pregnancy test and panic, which means that I cannot panic, but every fiber of my being is going to want to panic. So, I need your literature loving, way with words bullshit right now and for you to say something, anything, to make sure that I don't panic."

"Holy shit."

He squeezed his phone tightly in his hand. "Not working!"

"Okay, um, well—" Stefan fumbled around like this for a few more moments before finally saying, "This is not the end of the world."

"Really? Because it sure fucking feels like it, Stefan!"

"You are 28 years old and financially secure. Yes, this year has been rough, but you have your life together. You are perfectly capable of having a child. I know that you stopped thinking about it after Katherine, but your life can handle one just as easily now as it could then. These things happen."

"When you're 16! They happen when you're 16!"

"You let Elena talk you into way too much MTV."

"Shut up, Stefan!"

"Okay, listen to me!" Stefan barked, his voice serious but also weirdly calm despite the rise in volume. "You are going to calm down, walk into that apartment, and not freak out. You are not going to tell Elena that you can't do this. You are not going to walk out. You are not going to start a fight. Because as scared as you are, she is 22 years old. She is 22 and as unprepared for this as you are. So you are going to go into that apartment and tell her that everything is going to be fine. You are going to hold her hand, wipe her tears, or whatever it is she needs you to do because like it or not, you're supposed to be the real adult in this situation. She's going to need you to know what to do, and you're going to know what to do. You know why?"

"Why?" he choked out.

"Because if she's pregnant, that's your child Damon. Every fear doesn't matter, because it's your child."

The words reverberated through Damon's head like a loud echo. His child. Whether he planned it or not, he'd very likely created something with Elena, a person. He had to figure out a way to get it all together, because she needed him right now – that child needed him.

"Okay," he sighed. He straightened back up and loosened his grip on his phone. "I can do this."

He could do this.

"Call me later."

Damon disconnected the call, squared his shoulders, lifted his head and strode into Elena's building. His insides were churning with the burning desire to be sick, but he pushed it down, forcing the fear to the very darkest corners of his mind. Stefan was right; he had to do this. Because, no matter how scared he was, Elena was even more scared. She was going to be looking to him for the answers and he had to figure them out. He had to find some infinite wisdom inside of him that he supposedly possessed because he was almost 30, and he had to stay calm.

Her apartment was silent as he entered it for the second time that night, this time with more fear in his heart than he ever knew possible. She was still lying in her bed, frozen in the same spot she'd been in when he left, her eyes glued to the ceiling. She made no move to look at him when he slowly sat down on the bed. With gentleness he didn't know he had, he brushed his fingers over her forehead, brushing her hair to the side. "Hey, I've got the tests." She reached up and grabbed the bag that he was holding in his hands, but made no move to sit up. "Elena, you have to take the test."

"I know," she whispered.

"I'm going to be right out here. I'm not going anywhere." A silent tear slipped from her wide eye. "It's going to be fine."

With considerable effort, she pushed herself up on the bed. He stood up and held his arm out to her, which she used to move to her feet. Her knuckle was white from gripping the plastic bag so tightly in her hands, and he could feel her fingers trembling in his hand. "Okay." He didn't know if she was saying it to him or herself, maybe even the air, but he squeezed her hand before dropping it for her to disappear into her bathroom.

He collapsed onto her bed and buried his head in his hands. This was it. This was the moment that defined everything. How was it possible that some plastic stick was going to set the course for the rest of his life? How did that even happen?

That was the question he pondered for the next twenty minutes. He knew she should have an answer by now, but he hadn't moved to see what was taking so long. The longer he sat on this bed, his contemplations were just that, contemplations. They weren't fact and they weren't real. The second that bathroom door opened though, it was all very real.

When 30 minutes came and went, he forced his body off of the bed, not ready to see the answer, but ready to know something. He knocked softly on the door and called out, "Elena?" When he received no response, he tried the doorknob and found it unlocked. "I'm coming in." He still received no response as he opened the door to find Elena sitting on the floor, her back to the wall, and her arms wrapped tightly around her knees that were pulled to her chest. Her eyes were glazed over as she stared straight ahead, not daring to glance up at the test that was siting on the counter. "Have you looked?"

The panic stricken look on her face told him more than any test ever could. He didn't need to look or be told of the results; he knew.

She was pregnant.

She remained frozen on the floor, saying nothing, and as he stared down at her, he was struck with the feeling of overwhelming protectiveness. She did not look like the happy 22-year-old that he'd come to know over the past several months. In this moment, she looked like a scared girl who wanted nothing more than to be held by her mother and be told that everything was going to be okay.

He knew, in that instant that, no matter what answer was on that test, he was going to do everything in his power to protect her. He didn't care what it took or how scared he was inside; he was going to take care of her because she needed him. She needed someone to give her comfort and strength, and he would be that person. He'd make sure of it.

"Just go away, Damon." These choked words from her only solidified his decision.

He joined her on the floor, their shoulders barely grazing each other as he stretched his legs out in front of him and looked over at her. "I'm not going to do that."

She turned to look at him, her eyes swirling with confusion amidst the crippling fear coursing through her body. "Why not? We both know this is the last thing you want."

"I want you to tell me what you want."

Her face crumbled at his words her last resolve finally breaking under the immense weight of the worry she was carrying. The tears fell from her eyes freely now and her entire body shook with loud sobs. He pulled her into his arms, allowing her body to curl against his, her face falling into his chest. "I want to not be pregnant," she cried. "I want it to not be real."

"I know," he whispered as he ran his hands through her hair and down her back, trying to bring her any small comfort that he could. He wished so desperately that he could make it better, that he could take that panicked look from her eyes, but he knew that wouldn't happen tonight or even the next night. They were both in this deeper than they'd ever imagined, and they were both scared, but he was going to be there. He was going to be by her side every step of the way, no matter what decision she made. "We're going to figure this out."