Brace For Impact

"Telling us to obey instinct is like telling us to obey 'people.' People say different things: so do instincts. Our instincts are at war… Each instinct, if you listen to it, will claim to be gratified at the expense of all the rest."

-C.S. Lewis

The Mighty Fall

Chapter Six:

Elena was frantically waiting for Damon to wake up. She had laid him out on their bed but was now stuck fidgeting more than she could stand. All I can do is hold on, she told herself, but it was no use.

She felt sick. This was all her fault. Maybe if she had just told Damon her plans or if she had never went after Katherine at all. Right now, they could be somewhere tropical, drinking excessively in the sun away from all these problems. Why had she led him here to his own suffering?

The sounds of the city were giving her a headache. A car alarm went off fifty stories below her, and she almost threw a chair out the window.

She knew what was wrong. She had been injured and now she was hungry. She was far too young to be dealing this. It required control beyond a couple month old vampire. She was sitting in an enclosed space after having received multiple wounds with a human covered in blood.

Human, she thought despondently. How had she managed to mess everything up so badly? She thought losing her emotions would make her less of a liability. That she would stop being the reason everyone got hurt, why everything went wrong. Her self-loathing was suffocating her. And her survivor's guilt suddenly penetrated her every thought.

Ruthlessly, she quashed all of those feelings. She had her humanity off, and they could not make her feel. She welcomed the numbness that spread at her insistence.

But she could not help but feel that this was the beginning of the end. It was the first domino in the line. It was only a matter of time until the last one fell taking Elena down with it.

Shaking off her depressing thoughts, she returned her attention to Damon. He looked so fragile now. Maybe that was because she knew he was now.

Her fangs came out again, and she could not stop it. The room reeked of Damon's blood. It had spread to her very pores, and she did not know what to do. Should she leave him to find blood elsewhere? Despite her firm grasp on the switch, she felt her heart flutter with fear at the thought. What if Katherine or Rebekah found him while she was out drinking her fill on some random passerby?

No, she could not leave him. She would just have to last until he was awake and well enough to go with her.

But there was so much blood! He was soaked in it, and it had already started seeping into the bed sheets. Maybe if I just had a little… she thought hopelessly.

She stopped. She realized that she had been inching towards him in hunger unconsciously. She felt like an animal for the first time since turning into a vampire. She had felt like a monster or an abomination before, but never had she been filled with such savage desires. She almost let her instincts drive her to lick the grievously injured man she loved while he was unconscious.

The revulsion that came with that thought was almost too much. She could have easily lost control then, too, and killed him. What had she been thinking?

She had not been thinking at all she recognized. The blood had made her forget that the man in front of her was more than just a slab of meat to her. If this was how it was now, how long could she last? Would she just wake up from the heat of bloodlust to discover she drained the person most important to her that she had left?

Elena reconsidered her options. She could hear a man pacing back and forth in the room next door. She could easily walk out, knock on his door and compel him to feed her. It would only be a couple minutes. And she could satisfy the rage boiling inside her by killing the useless man. It would make her feel better. And she would take Damon back to Mystic Falls in the morning, long before someone found the body.

She was debating. It would not be long at all, but she could not bring herself to part with Damon when he was in this state.

Making up her mind, she finally allowed herself to close in on Damon. He looked peaceful even covered in blood. Blood… she shook herself out of it and with newfound determination, began to strip him.

She was careful not to jostle him too much. When he was completely naked before her, it struck her how vulnerable he was. The guilt was pooling in her gut again, so she gently picked him up in her arms.

She carried him to the bathroom without breathing. Bloodlust and lust were swirling inside of her and it just made her angrier with herself. It was horrible, but her vampiric urges were starting to get to her.

Her instincts were recognizing Damon as an easy target, prey, and she wanted him in every way. The whole situation was just wrong on so many levels.

Damon's head fell into the crook of her neck, and his light breaths tickled her skin. Suddenly, she did not want to sleep with him or drink from him, all she wanted were his conscious arms wrapped around her in an embrace to block out the rest of the world.

She set his legs onto the ground and with one hand supporting him, she used her other to open the shower door and turn or the water.

She clutched him to her as the water poured down on them. She had not bothered with her own clothes and they quickly became drenched. Her arms were wrapped around him keeping him in a standing position as his head had lolled onto her shoulder.

"Damon?" She whispered hopefully in his ear. She wanted to see his bright blue eyes. Elena could not shake the fear that she never would be graced with that sight again. The water failed to rouse Damon but that was not why she had dragged him in here.

Slowly, she moved one arm from its place at his waist and leaned him back against the wall of the shower. She had a flashback to just hours ago when she was tormenting him in this same position. Everything had changed so quickly.

Damon's head was resting against the wall, and she used her free hand to brush away some of the wet strands of his hair. She found herself distracted as she caressed his cheek. Just a little bit of emotion, a brief moment of weakness, and then I can block it out again, she convinced herself.

She methodically washed all the blood off his body. She did not let herself linger anywhere and kept her eyes from wandering. It was so clinical that she thought for a second that her switch had started working again. It was a vain hope because she started brushing parts of him in a not so detached manner. His lips, his eyelids, his jawline, it all called to her more than her animalistic instincts that had almost consumed her earlier.

Gradually, she lowered them to the tiled floor. She knew she had vampire strength, but she suddenly felt so weak. He lay unmoving on her lap as she braced her upper body against the wall. The shower was still on, but they just laid there. The water eventually lost its warmth and still she sat with him.

She held him to her desperately and silently cried for the first time since Jeremy.

Elena felt better after she laid Damon back down on the bed. She felt stronger, calmer, and the sounds of Damon's no longer labored breathing soothed her more than it should have.

The problem now actually had little to do with Damon even though it was about him. She sighed conflicted before she decided that she just had to bite the bullet on this one.

She pulled out her phone and dialed the number straight from memory her eyes never leaving Damon's now unstained, clothed form.

It rang several times before going to voicemail. Elena frowned and repeated the process. Still no answer. What the hell?

She huffed as she realized what was probably going on. She grabbed Damon's phone from his discarded pants' pocket. She waited a second before she dialed the same number as before. Within the first ring, Stefan answered.

"What is it, Damon?"

That bastard, Elena thought angrily. And then she recognized that she could just tell him that herself. "You bastard." And quickly before he could disconnect, "Don't hang up, it's important."

The sound of breathing reassured her that Stefan had listened. "Well, what is it?" But then before she could answer, Stefan spoke again more urgently, "Wait, where's Damon? Why do you have his phone?"

Elena paused for a second, unsure of how to explain. Unfortunately, that indecision sent Stefan into a frenzy.

"Elena, what is it? Where is he?" It was times like these that she remembered that the Salvatores hated and loved each other in equal measure. They had some sort of codependency thing going on as well. She was not sure how Stefan would handle the news.

"You need to come to New York." She would rather he just found out in person and she did not want to explain and admit that it was her fault either. Plus, she needed help. What was she supposed to do with a injured, human Damon in a city of likely dozens of vampires and at least two powerful ones who knew what had happened to him? "Ideally right now."

Stefan was silent on the other end for a beat. Then he whispered so quietly that only vampire hearing allowed her to make out what he had said, "Is he alive?"

Alive was certainly not Damon's problem right now. In fact, she would argue he was more alive now than he had been since 1864. She snorted, "Yeah, he's alive. But it's still not pretty," she added that last part to ensure Stefan would get there as soon as possible.

Stefan hung up without another word. Well, at least Elena was sure he got the message.

She pondered how much easier it was to use the switch with Stefan. She had been all over the place with Damon today and yet she felt nothing for worrying and insulting Stefan. She did not like that. She needed the switch to work with the people who caused her to get the craziest, not the other way around.

As she thought that over, she heard a pained moan behind her.

The light hurt Damon's eyes. Who had thought that it was a good idea to make lighting that bright?

He groaned in pain. Everything hurt. The simple action of shifting his weight sent tingles of pain to every extremity. What the hell…?

With more effort than it should take, Damon opened his eyes. He is greeted with the sight of Elena. "What a nice thing to wake up to," he smirks because she does not look good. She is unbelievably pale, her beautiful face drawn with stress. "Don't wrinkle that pretty, little forehead of yours, brooding is Stefan's thing." All his jokes fail to remove the helpless agony coloring Elena's expression. She is frozen before him.

He works to sit up, and she comes to his side immediately to help. "Well, someone is not appreciative of Damon humor today," he quips.

Elena is still looking at him like he just told her Santa Claus is not coming to town. He squints. Why does she look like that? And what the hell happened to him?

He opened his mouth to ask one of those reasonable questions but all that came out was a pathetic, "Ugh." He gives up trying to sit up.

"Hey, do we have any blood bags left? I feel like shit."

If possible, she freezes even more at his words. Her eyes are wide, and she looks so panicked he is inclined to believe the apocalypse has finally arrived.

Fed up, he bites out, "Are you ever going to say anything?" He immediately regrets speaking so harshly as her face crumples. "Why don't you tell me why you look like the world is ending, then we can deal with it," he encourages softer than before.

"I'm so sorry." Damon watches her in confusion, but it appeared that was all she wanted to say.

"Okay… about what?" Then everything comes rushing back to him. Their fight. Her plan. Rebekah. Katherine. Being backhanded. And then what? Damon thinks. Did someone vervain him or something? Even as he thinks it, he dismisses the theory. This went beyond the aftereffects of vervain.

"What happened back there? How did we get away from the terrible twosome?" Damon thought if he started simply, maybe Elena would be more inclined to talk. At first, it seemed like he was wrong, but then she replied hesitantly.

"Katherine and Rebekah ran away, so I brought you here."

"Rebekah gave up on the cure just like that?" He asked skeptically. Elena turned her head to the side, so she was no longer facing him.

"After you… fell, Katherine took off and Rebekah followed her."

"So Katherine still has the cure, huh?" Elena slowly shook her head. "So Rebekah got it then?" Once again, Elena indicated that he was wrong. He paused, "Did you get it from them somehow?" Damon asked incredulously. He had a lot of faith in Elena but taking on two of craziest, older vampires he knew by herself at a month old was a hell of a feat. She just shook her head again though. Damon sighed impatiently, "So where is the cure?"

Elena did not move. She did not speak. She just sat there staring at him. Why is she looking at me like… No! Damon thought with alarm. Suddenly, everything made so much more sense.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Damon roared. He looked down at his body noticing that he had a large scabbed over wound where he and the stake had their run in earlier. His head was pounding, too, which was easily explained by knocking his head on the ground when he had fallen.

He tried desperately to get up. He did not believe it, he had to see himself in the mirror. He did not know what answers his reflection could give him, but he suddenly felt too agitated to sit still.

He moved to leave the bed, but Elena immediately intervened. It was for the best since he could already tell he was not up to movement.

"Damon, please, you're hurt." Yeah, he damn well knew he was hurt! He felt it everywhere, the agony was resonating deep in his bones.

He stuck two fingers into his mouth to probe his teeth and concentrated on elongating his fangs. But his teeth stayed bluntly human. God damn it!

Elena continued to look at him guiltily. She was clearly blaming herself for this, and, yeah, it was partially because of her, but he would blame his psycho ex over Elena any day. Most things usually were Katherine's fault after all.

He sighed and plopped back down on the mattress. "Well, that was a horrific waste of the most sought after object since the Moonstone." It was best not to worry her. And really, it was not that big of a deal.

"At least this ends our 'cure' chapter, and we can finally move on. It's okay, don't worry. This problem has an easy fix." Elena appeared unconvinced, so he kept reassuring her.

Damon was trying to calm her down. She realized that he is probably more distressed over her reaction than his condition right now. It made her feel bad that she was unable to stay unaffected.

"Elena, relax. The solution is simple. You fed me your blood to heal me, right?" At her slow nod, he continues, "So I'll just stab myself or something and be back in the land of living dead people in no time." He is smiling carefree despite the fact that she had gone rigid at his words. Seeing her reaction, he kept going, "It's okay, don't worry. Sure, it'll be a bitch to lose my extra years of vampire strength but worst things could happen." He paused, "Normally do happen to us."

Elena has still yet to react to his words. Damon just stared at her until, with a sigh, he reached to his bag by the side of the bed. He rummaged through it for a few moments before retrieving an object that makes Elena's heart rate skyrocket.

The knife glistens in the light of the room. He draws it to him and starts to brace himself when suddenly Elena hurtles into action. "NO!" she screams. In her efforts to knock the blade away, she pretty much tackles him.

Damon lets out an "oomph" as she hits him. Elena thinks in the back of her mind that she might have seriously hurt him, but the hysteria in her mind has overtaken any other feelings. The knife flies across the room, safely out of Damon's reach.

"What the fuck?" Damon is glaring at her, "Have you lost your mind?" Yes, because she was the one about to stab herself to death, she thinks heatedly.

He looks at her in confusion for another second before comprehension settles over his face. "Good call, I should probably use someone else's blood. How ironic would it be if I sired you and then you sired me? We'd make vampire history," Damon quips, but there is such terror running through her veins that she cannot even fake a suitable reaction.

Damon is looking at her funny. It is probably because she has not moved since she screamed at him. She guessed that he was expecting her to be relieved over his deduction. He was wrong.

"No, Damon, you can't."

"Okay, I'll wait until I can take Blondie's blood or something. Actually, maybe Stefan's would be better because using the vampire I turn's blood is a little iffy," he is speaking so casually. He just does not get it at all, Elena thinks.

Now that the immediate danger to Damon's life has faded, the numbness is back and Elena can function again.

"No, Damon, you're not listening," Elena basically sneers with all the agitation at his stupidity pulsating within her. "You can't turn back. I won't let you."

Damon is staring at her in disbelief, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You have to die to turn. What if it doesn't work? What if you're just dead?" She could feel the anger. Anger at him for not getting it, anger at herself for getting them into this mess, and anger at the world for putting her in such a position. She embraced it, with the rage consuming her every thought, the worrying emotions had all but disappeared.

"Why the hell wouldn't it work? I've been around for a hundred and sixty something years without ever having a problem!" Damon was starting to look mad himself.

"Maybe because you're the first vampire to ever be cured. What if the cure prevents you from turning back, so when you kill yourself, you just stay dead. Ever think of that?"

He looks at her aghast before a calculating look crosses his face. "Then I guess I'll just be dead."

Elena is shocked. What did he just say? But before she could voice her incredulity, he spoke again.

"Isn't that what you said to me when I asked what would happen if Elijah's elixir failed during the Sun and the Moon ritual? And weren't you oh so upset with me when I stole your choice to turn that day because I did not honor your decision?"

"I'm not honoring your choice to die!"

"Why not?! You were grateful when Stefan respected your decision to off yourself just a month ago!"

"That was different," Elena said dismissively.

"How? How was it different? Can't I make this choice? You're probably just being paranoid anyway."

"And if I'm not, you'll have just killed yourself. For no reason! When I asked Stefan to save Matt, it was to save Matt. Not just because I was choosing to kill myself."

"And what about the many times when you tried to give yourself over to Klaus, huh? Was that to save anyone?"

"Yes! It was to save everyone from Klaus' wrath!"

"Well, did it ever occur to you that I won't be able to save anyone like this? What if you get into trouble like you did just a few hours ago? What would I be able to do?"

Elena realized that he was not going to listen to her, and she could not fight his logic. She got it, she understood. That was always her problem with Damon. She understood him so completely but wished she did not, so she could prevent him from doing things that she did not want him to do.

But the difference between now and all those other times is that she could stop him. She had the power. She would not let him destroy himself.

She faced him. "I have to eat. Katherine injured me, and I haven't been able to get any blood while you were out," she says blankly. Damon looks startled and irritated over the abrupt subject change but holds his tongue for once.

So she just turns around and walks out the door without checking to see whether he is coming or not.

Elena leads Damon to the streets. He keeps finding himself stumbling. He feels completely unbalanced and woozy. He wanted to protest before he realized that Elena sitting vigil on the bedside of a blood-covered human must have drove her crazy.

He sighs, tripping again. Elena was watching him from the corner of her eye. Every so often she would start to move towards him before abruptly stopping again. He can tell she wants to help him but then her eyes harden with steely resolve and she looks away again.

He is not sure whether she has convinced herself that she has a right to be angry with him or is trying to prove how much she does not care again. He rights himself and continues to follow her.

Elena slips into an alleyway with a lone man fumbling trying to light a cigarette. Damon enters afterwards and leans against the brick wall. He felt so tired. He could not remember ever feeling this weak before. He is panting just from the effort it took to walk there!

"Do you have a smoke and a light?" Elena asks the stranger with a seductive smile tilting her lips. The man is staring at her in awe, uncomprehending of his luck probably.

"Sure, sweet cheeks. If you come a little closer, I can give it to you," the man begins flirtatiously. Damon rolls his eyes. No charm whatsoever.

"Don't mind if I do," Elena's smile turns into something darker. The man seems to possess better instincts that Damon first assumed because he has now grown wary. He casts a glance at Damon a few feet away and seems to sense the danger he has unwittingly put himself in.

Before he can act on his fears, Elena is in front of him staring into his eyes with widened pupils. "You will not make a sound. You will not move a muscle. You will just let me do whatever I want."

Damon frowns. The man is shivering in terror, his eyes darting to Damon pleading for help. His fear only escalates as Elena's face changes.

"Elena, take his fear away," Damon instructs. But she ignores him. In fact, she is seems to be encouraging the man's alarm. She grins, revealing her fangs, as she plays with his shirt collar. Then she leisurely starts unbuttoning his shirt and peels it down to show her his neck as the man watches helplessly with undisguised fear.

The man trembles uncontrollably and as Damon watches, tears well up in his eyes. Damon knows he is not a good guy, but he usually compels the panic out of his victims. Still, he understands the predatory thrill in having his prey completely at his mercy. He would not think twice about questioning this, but he remembers the girl before him from weeks ago. Her tears over a hunter she had killed who had been attacking her family and friends. The way she looked at him as she said she could not live with the guilt of his death. That was mostly the Hunter's Curse, but a part of her felt the pain of murdering Connor acutely and looked at her actions with revulsion.

What would that girl think when she looked back at this moment with her humanity fully in tact? Would it be the final straw to tip her over the edge?

The man is sobbing noticeably now. Elena appears satisfied as she moves towards him. Damon decides to speak up more insistently, "Elena, compel his fear away."

She pays him no heed and lightning quick strikes out at the exposed neck.

The man's mouth opens in a soundless cry of pain.

Elena is drinking sloppily. Droplets of blood are streaming down the man's skin, staining his unfortunate white shirt. The man's face crumples in terror and agony, and then it suddenly starts to relax. His horror fades to a dazed calm. Damon knows what that means.

Hunched over and clutching his abdomen, Damon decides that maybe he should intervene despite his own pain.

"Elena," he hisses. Elena is drinking fully now, completely lost in her bloodlust. Damon has never seen her so uncontrolled. He supposes that the day has been taxing on her restraint and maybe she just does not care without her humanity if she kills this random person.

With some degree of struggle, Damon grits his teeth and approaches the still feeding Elena. "Elena, stop. You're killing him." He reaches out to the preoccupied vampire to grab her shoulder. She starts to shrug him off, but he persistently tugs at her.

She drops the unfortunate man unceremoniously and turns to face the person who interrupted her meal and growls. There is no recognition on her face, and Damon worries that she is too far gone in her blood fervor. She is in that moment ever bit the animal that vampires can be.

And then his back is slammed against the alley wall by Elena for what feels like far too many times for one day to Damon.

She has wrenched his head to the side with painful force that makes him groan with the strain she has put on his beat up body. "Elena, stop!" He gasps. He tries to push her off him but realizes that he is completely outmatched in strength now.

She appears completely oblivious to him, so he rasps, "Elena, you don't want to do this!" And it is true. He cannot think of anything worse for Elena right now than killing one of her few remaining loved ones. She already shoulders the burden of her family's deaths because of her guilt, just how would she react if she actually did kill someone she cared about?

His vision is blurring. He feels himself falling into the tranquility that precedes death.

He does not want her to feel bad, so he stops fighting her. He weakly raises one hand to stroke her hair like he has done so many times before to comfort her. "S'okay," he mumbles before the darkness claims him.

This. This was what she needed, had craved for so long. They denied her this, but they could not stop her now.

The fool she is sinking her teeth into is powerless to stop her. She revels in the power. She starts to feel its heart weakening and rejoices. Yes, yes. She is going to take its life. It is hers to take.

Just then, before she can finish the its life, she feels a touch on her shoulder. Who dares disturb her? Elena thinks with all the animalistic possession within her.

She spins around to face the intruder. She snarls with all the fury of a predator prevented from claiming her prey. She will just have to find a new morsel to devour then.

The food in front of her does not stand a chance. In a second, she is draining it just as surely as she was just drinking in the other piece of meat.

She likes this food source better. It is tastier, fills her mouth with delicious ecstasy. She is in rapture. She is in heaven. It may have prevented her from killing her last prey, but she has this one in her grasp. The thought fills her with carnivorous glee.

Then something changes. Her food source unclenches. It bares its neck in an open invitation and starts softly stroking her hair.

The movement reminds her of other times where she felt the same devotion and comfort. She remembered just a week ago when Damon held her to him and soothed her by doing this. She remembers a time in the Grill's bathroom where he did this to encourage her to drink from him.

Drink from him…

Oh god, Elena pulls back with a gasp. No, no, no!

Elena falls forward in an effort to catch him before he hits the ground. She cradles him in her lap for the second time that evening. Her eyes are blood red, and she cannot seem to make the veins disappear. She can feel the blood dripping from her lips. Damon's blood.

And it is that scene that Stefan walks in on as he appears in the mouth of the alleyway.

Sorry for the delay. This was finished over a day ago, but I had no time to edit. Then I edited, and it didn't save, so I had to start again. Plus, I'm on vacation now.

This is getting a little dark which I'm worried will turn people off. And I know Damon's coming off helpless here, but it won't last. As for the switch, vampires with it off show emotion sometimes. I think Elena's can still be off even as cracks show through.

And I think Elena could easily lose it with no one strong enough to stop her, injured and starving. Stefan still can't control himself and he's been a vampire for 148 years. Even Caroline vamped out under duress when her father was torturing her. Elena's a month old, her control hasn't be honed yet. Please review and tell me what you think!