So, I'm back again, and I bring a new chapter^^.

But I think a few of you REALLY will hate me after this one. Just remember, this isn't the last chapter so… bear with me, yeah?

Alright, now: THANKS to my dear Avecia, for she is the best beta I could hope for, and to to my readers and reviewers^^.

And I own nothing 'bout Vampire diaries, I'm just – as always - messing with them.

On with it!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

He arrived at the graveyard, already slightly anxious. There was a bad feeling creeping up inside of him, and no matter what he did to silence it, it got louder with every passing second.

He paid no attention to the gravestones passing left and right from him – he could find his way to the final resting place of Elena's parents blind, deaf and half dead.

As the grave was finally in eye sight, he slowly came to a stop.

There, in front of him, sitting on the headstone, was Katherine.

The moon shone bright, giving a celestial glimmer to her hair; only the gruesome grin on her face, ruined the effect of the pale light.

But something wasn't right with her eyes. The usual edge, the stony, utterly cold feeling they gave off normally… it was, somehow, missing.

At first he thought he got them mixed up – again. But no, his ears couldn't detect a heartbeat. And as he was sick and tired of this whole, fucked-up night, he cut straight to the matter at hand.

"Where is Ele…," but the question answered itself, even before he had a chance to finish his sentence.

As his eyes had roamed around a bit, they had fallen on something at Katherine's feet.

And for the life of him, he had no idea how he hadn't seen it – her – until now.

Because on the ground lay Elena.

Elena, with her straight chestnut hair. Elena, with a barely there smile on her face. Elena, with her soft and caring eyes – eyes that stared into nothing.

And there was still no heartbeat he could detect.

Unconsciously he made a few steps closer to her, but his knees gave out under him as he was only halfway there.

There was a look of disbelieve on his face. She couldn't be gone.

Where was the drama? The fight; the harsh words?

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Katherine should play games with them. Hurt and kill friends and family, manipulate them. It wasn't like her to just take, and kill.

He had counted on an elaborate, sick game of chess.

This way, he could've planned a way to keep her safe. His Elena, his Queen, his salvation.

Suddenly there was a pair of feet in front of him, and as he looked up, Katherine loomed over him.

And as fast as this lost, empty feeling came over him, even more quickly it was replaced with rage.

Clear, undiluted rage, so hot in his veins, that he nearly felt them burning.

Before either of them had realised what had happened, he had her against a tree, hand clamped around her throat, and ready to rip it out at moments notice.

"I hope for you that you gave her your blood before you did this. Because, so god help me, if she really is dead – for good - I'll rip you to pieces so tiny, that not even a damn bloodhound will be able to find them all. And don't even try to pull the age card on me. You and me both know what hate can do, my dear, dear Katherine."

For a moment, just half a second, he thought he saw fear in her eyes. But it was gone, instantly replaced by a look of disgust.

"How dare you. How dare you talk to me like this! You think you have a right to be upset? Poor Damon lost his little human plaything."

Her voice would've been mocking, if it weren't for the hand still clamping down on her throat. But by now she was nearly equally as enraged as he.

So she just got his wrist in a tight grip and clamped down until she could hear, and feel, the bone shatter.

With a blurring motion she had him on his back, straddling him, this time holding him down by his throat.

"And now you listen to me, little boy. You think you lost something tonight? You had a hard night? That was nothing, you hear? Nothing. She was of my blood, you stupid son of a bitch. The last one in my line. I looked into her eyes, smelled her, and I saw all those that came before her. Men and women with my blood running through their veins – and it ran strong, Damon.

I am cold hearted, and even a bitch when I want to be. I give you that much. But never, ever, would I allow harm to come to those I once had sworn to protect.

And I failed. With her, with the one who looked just like me – the one who proved that I was successful in keeping my family alive… with her I failed.

She came to me, Damon. She came, and she told me to kill her. And there was just so much anguish in her voice, such emptiness in her eyes…

She was mine to protect, but I wasn't good enough. And she paid the price for it, so I granted her this one wish she had left.

Now, there is no one left. So don't tell me – don't even think – that you lost more than I."

With that, she came slowly to her feet, looking defeated like he never saw her before.

Not even that night, as she was weak with vervain and about to be burned alive.

After he hadn't found her in the tomb, he was so sure that there was not an ounce of feeling left in her.

And maybe there wasn't – not for him, at least.

But the drawn line of her shoulders, the turmoil in her eyes, showed him she wasn't just the cold hearted bitch she liked to portray.

She had made her way back to Elena, but refrained from sitting back down on the headstone.

Instead she crouched down beside her, gently pushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead.

"She hadn't had anything of my blood Damon. She wanted to sleep, never to wake up again, and I made sure that she got what she wanted. She felt no pain – I was as quick as I could.

I'll go now – I'll leave the town, and I don't think I'll be back anytime soon. Take care of her. Make sure that she gets the funeral she deserves."

With a last look over her shoulder and a regretful smile she was gone.

Left him to deal with his demons; the pain of once again loosing his love. Only this time, there was no back. No tomb to free her from, no hope to cling to.

As he got to his feet every step was slow and careful, like he was walking on glass.

He stood over her for a long time, not daring to touch her; for it would be the last proof that she was gone.

It took another near-eternity for him to finally be able to lift a hand for a careful stroke down the side of her face – and it was everything he feared.

No softly humming pulse under her skin, no warmth… no life.

And as he saw tiny droplets of water splashing on her skin, it took him a moment to realise that it wasn't about to rain. He lifted his hand – the one not still on her – and brought it to his own cheek. He nearly laughed out loud then.

For so long there was nothing that could make him feel. At least, not like this.

He was still human, the last time he shed a tear. It was a long time before he went to war, even.

But his eyes were wet, and a few of the salty drops even made it down his cheek, to splash softly onto hers.

With a bitter smile he wiped them away – he had no right for them. Elena had never been his.

She was a niece to Jenna, a sister to Jeremy. Best friend for Bonnie and Caroline.

And a boyfriend to his little brother. Even Matt had more rights than him – Matt, the first, innocent love.

So he took a deep breath and picked her up off the ground.

For a moment it reminded him of the night were he got her out of her car.

But this time there would be no 'five minutes'. She wouldn't just sleep for a few hours and demand of him to take her home.

This time, her sleep would be forever.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Now, was I right? Do you hate me? Just let me know, and push the nice little button below^^.

So long,

Zora