Damon glanced over at Meredith. "This is it?"

She nodded. "This is it."

Damon looked scornful. "Not exactly what I'd call a town."

"Elena and Stefan called it home." Meredith said quietly. She got no reply from Damon. Sighing, she pointed to a house that was set back a little further away from the road than the others. "It's that house there."

Damon looked to where she was pointing. The house was small, with only one floor, and perhaps four rooms. It looked in a state of disrepair- the paint on the outside of the house was chipped, the tiny garden was overgrown and some of the tiles had fallen off the roof. As they pulled over onto the side of the road, Damon could see another car already parked in front of the house.

He inclined his head towards it. "More visitors?"

"Matt and Bonnie." Meredith explained.

"What about the other one? The teacher?"

"Alaric? He's travelling. He's not been back in months. I doubt if he even knows about Stefan."

"You didn't tell him?"

"It's none of his business," Meredith replied, a little too hotly. Damon raised an eyebrow, but didn't pursue it.

He stopped the car and got out, striding towards the house without bothering to open Meredith's door or wait for her. She sighed once more and got out, sprinting to catch up with him.

Before he could reach the front door, she grabbed his arm and pulled him round to face her.

"Damon, wait."

His eyes flashed with annoyance as he looked down at her hand on his arm, and then back up to her eyes. "What?"

She hesitated. "Before you go in there, you should prepare yourself."

The corner of his lip turned upwards in a smirk. "Why, is Bonnie still interested in me?"

Meredith would have laughed if the situation hadn't been so serious. She met his eyes. "I mean, prepare yourself to see Elena. She's not like she used to be. She's a completely different person."

"Isn't that why you brought me here in the first place?"
"I know, but I just don't want you to be shocked when you see her. She looks so empty now. It's like her light has gone out," Meredith ended softly.

Damon looked at the ground, and then broke away and headed for the door again. Meredith took a deep breath and followed him.

Damon knocked sharply, and stood back, waiting for the door to open. Meredith prayed that if Bonnie answered, she wouldn't scream at the sight of Damon. She was known to be a little excitable, and the last thing they needed was to have to deal with Bonnie as well as Elena.

It was Bonnie who opened the door, but her reaction was completely the opposite of Meredith's expectations. Instead of screaming, Bonnie just stood staring at Damon, who returned her stare with a slightly bored expression on his face.

Finally, the red-head spoke. "You're back."

Damon smiled. "So it seems."

Bonnie looked away from him and to Meredith. "You did it," she whispered. "You found him. I knew you would!" She threw her arms around Meredith, squeezing her tightly. Meredith gasped.

"Okay, okay, yes, I found him. Now can you let me go?"

Bonnie released her and stepped back. "I'm sorry. It's just—Elena's getting worse by the day, and now Damon's here—"

"Where is she?" Damon's sharp voice cut through Bonnie's.

Thrown for a moment, Bonnie hesitated before replying, "She's in the lounge, with Matt. I didn't want to leave her alone, I know it's silly, because she's not talking, but—"

"Take me to her."

Bonnie turned to Meredith. "He's still the same old Damon, isn't he?"

"Now, Bonnie," Meredith said gently. She could sense that Damon was getting more impatient by the minute. Bonnie floundered, and then led the way down the hall.

As they walked, Damon kept his eyes fixed on the floor, but when they rounded the corner into the lounge, he allowed his eyes to travel upwards and take in the scene before him.

The lounge itself was simple, like the rest of the house. There was a sofa in the middle of the room, and a worn armchair on one side. A small, possibly black and white TV sat in front of the sofa. There were no paintings on the walls, and all the décor was in neutral colours; creams and beiges. Matt was sat in the armchair, his eyes fixed into the distance, face etched with worry. Damon could tell he'd not been eating, and where there had once been a fit, athletic boy, there was now a painfully thin, gaunt one in his place. He kept repeatedly running his fingers through his hair and biting his lip, as he stared over to the sofa.

Where Elena was sitting.

Damon could only see the back of her head, as the sofa was facing away from him, but still, the sight of her sent a familiar stabbing feeling through his heart. He remembered what Meredith had said; 'it's like her light has gone out,' and he didn't have to look at Elena's face to know it was true. He could sense the change in her, like a candle that had suddenly been blown out in the wind.

He realised that Meredith and Bonnie were watching him.

Turning, he looked at them and waited for them to speak.

"You remember Matt, Damon?" Bonnie asked nervously.

Glancing at Meredith, he replied, "I never forget a scent."

Matt's head snapped round to face Damon, and shock registered on his expression. Damon smiled dangerously, and Matt stood shakily.

"I guess I should be grateful that you're back, if you can help Elena," he said, and Meredith realised he was trying to sound brave. "But you try anything funny while you're here, and I swear you'll be sorry."

Damon looked at him with interest. "Oh really? And what could you do to me that would make me feel sorry?"

Matt swallowed. "Well, I could never take you in a fight or anything like that. But if something happens to the girls and I find out you're to blame, you're gonna wake up with a stake in your heart." He pushed past Meredith and Damon. As he went past Bonnie on his way out, Matt said quietly, "Let me know if anything changes. I'll just be outside." Bonnie nodded, and Matt left the room.

Meredith looked back to the sofa, and then to Damon again.

"You should talk to her," she said softly.

Damon didn't reply, his eyes fixed on Elena's head. Slowly he moved forwards, around to the front of the sofa and knelt down, so that he was at eye-level with her. Finally he allowed himself to look at her.

The way she looked almost frightened him. Her skin, normally glowing, was dreadfully pale and translucent. Her hands trembled continuously, and her hair hung limply around her shoulders with no trace of the bounce it normally contained. But it was her eyes that affected him most. They were sunken and dark, instead of the bright, shining lights they used to be. Looking into them, Damon saw nothing that indicated to him that she could see him, or indeed anything in the room. It was like looking into the eyes of a porcelain doll, fake and unseeing.

Reaching out a hand, his fingers lightly brushed her cheek, and he realised that she was so cold that he could feel it, meaning that she, Elena, a living person, was colder than he, Damon, an undead vampire with no blood running through his veins. She did not react to his touch. Shocked for one of the few times in his life, he spoke very quietly.

"Hello, Elena."