Chapter 8

Damon stared at the shriveled grey bodies at his feet. He had been waiting for this opportunity, for one of them to let his guard down for just a second. That was all it had taken for him to finally overpower his captors and end their miserable lives.

He stared around at the dark basement; he had no idea how long he had been down here, subjected to unimaginable pain. His memory of how he had gotten here was a little fuzzy but he had quickly learned that the ringleader of this little plot was a vampire whose girlfriend he had killed at some point. He was ashamed to admit that he didn't even remember the occasion.

They had obviously been planning this for a long time; the other vampires were mostly people he had pissed off throughout the years.

He was weak, his body was laced with vervain and the evidence of his torture was not healing.

He stumbled outside, staring around at his unfamiliar surroundings, one thought on his mind. Elena.

He fed on the first human he found. He managed to stop just before he killed her and he sent her away with the usual animal attack story.

He was trying desperately to remember when and how he was taken, trying to make some sort of estimate of how long it had been. With his senses restored and his body healed, he assessed his surroundings. He was in Virginia or one of the surrounding states. He eventually, after some searching and compelling managed to figure out where he was and how to get home. He set off at a run, vampire speed being faster than any car.

Four hours later he entered the Mystic Falls boundary.

The thought of seeing Elena made his heart ache. He had missed her and worried about her incessantly during his ordeal.

He ran towards the Gilbert house deep in thought. Every muscle in his body ached and he was so tired he could sleep for a week. But he had to see her. He had to reassure himself that she was ok. He was sure that he hadn't been gone for more than a few days; he had been unconscious for the most part of his stay in that dingy cell so he wasn't entirely certain about the amount of time that he had been away.

The knowledge that with Elena, a few days could be the difference between life and death was bothering him to the point of distraction. He quickened his pace, ignoring the protest from his sore limbs. As her house came into view he was surprised to see all the lights off. Usually someone was up at this time, it wasn't late. Frowning he walked up the porch steps and knocked on the door. There was no answer. He considered the thought that Elena could be staying at the boarding house with Stefan but that didn't explain Jenna and Jeremy's absence. Growing concerned, he tried the door; it was unlocked, he pushed it open and stepped into the familiar hallway. It was too quiet.

He walked into the kitchen, his agitation growing more acute when he noticed the lack of food or dishes, or anything that indicated a human inhabitant. Trying to push away the feeling of panic that was threatening him he strode into the sitting room. It was too tidy, everything in its place, perfectly arranged. He took the stairs two at a time and cracked Jenna's door, peaking inside. Again, everything was untouched and unlived in. Jeremy's room was the same.

Steeling himself he opened Elena's door. He looked around the room, breathing in her unmistakable scent. This room looked vaguely lived in, it was slightly warmer and there were some things out of place. He couldn't hear a heartbeat so she wasn't here. He turned to leave, but as an afterthought nudged open the door to the bathroom Elena shared with Jeremy.

What he saw made his heart freeze in place.

The mirror was cracked and smeared with blood; bottles lay knocked over on the surface and the tap was running. But the thing that filled him with dread, the thing that was, without a doubt the worst sight he had ever seen in his life, was Elena.

She lay lifeless on the floor, her long dark hair fanned around her face, her lashes resting against her cheeks, small droplets of water making them sparkle like diamonds.

Damon sprang into action. He grabbed her body, pulling it off the floor and into his arms. She wasn't quite dead; he could feel her holding on by some tiny invisible thread. He glanced around the little room, trying to find some clue as to her situation.

The pill bottles.

He turned the shower on and turned the temperature down to cold. Cradling her delicate body in his arms he stood under the water, letting the cold streams hit her pale skin, he lightly slapped her cheeks, desperately trying to bring her back to him. He wiped angrily at the tears that had begun to slip out of his eyes. He stroked her hair back from her face. He bit his wrist and forced some of his blood down her unresponsive throat.

"Come on Elena." He murmured. "Come on, wake up Elena please."

She didn't stir. He felt his heart wrenching agonizingly in his chest. This couldn't be happening. This. Could. Not. Be. Happening. She had only been unconscious for about three minutes, if he had just been a tiny bit faster, he would have got here sooner. She would be fine. No. He looked over her body, noting the scent of alcohol and blood, she was too light in his arms, already tiny before; she was now impossibly thin. She wouldn't have been fine, she wasn't fine in any way, but at least she would be alive.

He sank to the floor, still clutching onto her still form.

He let the tears fall now; he didn't care. He let himself break down, for the first time in 164 years he truly broke. He loved her, god he loved her. He couldn't understand how the universe could be so cruel, to create this beautiful, amazing creature and then to snatch her away after only eighteen short years. She was everything to him, everything.

His mind was aching, trying to understand how this had happened. What had driven her to do this to herself, what had happened since he had been gone?

He laid his head against her chest, feeling none of the lust he would usually feel in this position with a beautiful woman. He just felt pain; he couldn't feel anything other than heartbreaking, gut-wrenching pain.

"Please Elena." He moaned, tears slipping down his nose.

She coughed.

It took him a moment to register.

She coughed.

Her eyes flickered open, screwing up against the water that was still raining down on them.

"Elena!" He gasped.

He pulled her into an upright position, tucking her hair behind her ears and wiping her face.

He gazed into her confused chocolate eyes, feeling the most intense relief he had ever experienced.

He pulled her closer against him, holding her tight. She was still for a few moments before she pulled away roughly.

She blinked and looked around her, finally focusing on Damon. She closed her eyes and opened them again.

She gingerly reached out and poked him in the chest. He stared at her, baffled.

"Elena…" He began, reaching out for her again.

She moved out of reach, sitting huddled against the wall of the shower. Damon reached up and turned the water off.

"What are you doing here?" Elena asked finally.

Damon's heart broke at the sight before his eyes. He recognized that detached look from his own reflection for years. She was broken.

"I…" He didn't know what to say, where to start, what to do.

"Did you get bored of Europe? Well the least you could do is just let me die." She spat coldly.

She wasn't sure what was going on. She hadn't expected to wake up ever again and yet here she was, gazing into the bright blue eyes that she had missed so badly. She was fighting any emotions that might betray her, might open her up just to get hurt again.

He looked completely nonplussed.

"Elena what are you…?"

She cut him off, standing up and grabbing a towel from the rack. She walked into her bedroom and he followed quickly behind, watching her with a profound sense of loss.

"I don't want to talk Damon. Get out of my house." She said firmly.

He shook his head.

"Not until you tell me what the hell has been going on around here, and why you would want to kill yourself."

She rolled her eyes and opened the bedroom door, gesturing for him to leave.

"You don't get to come back here and pretend like you care." She whispered.

His brow creased and his eyes registered shock and hurt.

"Of course I care, Elena. You know that." He replied.

His words pierced a hole in her heart. She hadn't heard kind words in weeks. For some reason they had the opposite than desire affect.

"Get out!" She screamed at him.

He stared at her shocked but stood his ground.

She ran at him, hitting her hands against his chest, her nails raking gashes in his arms. He did nothing to stop her as she took out all her pain and anger and hurt on him.

"I hate you. I hate you!" She yelled.

He hid how much those words hurt him and continued to let her vent.

She collapsed to the floor after a few minutes, resting her head on her knees and rocking back and forth. Damon itched to pick her up and hold her, to tell her that everything would be ok but she looked up at him and shook her head.

"Just get out." She whispered.

He looked her dead in the eye.

"Not until you promise me you won't try that again." He said, nodding towards the bathroom.

She smiled coldly through her tears.

"I promise I won't try that again…today."

Every instinct in his body argued with him as he left the room. He could hear her cries of anguish as he walked away and it physically hurt that he couldn't comfort her.

He didn't plan on leaving for long. He needed to go and talk to Stefan, get some idea as to what the hell had gone down around here.