Helllooooo Delena fans!

Thank you for some of your reviews already! It's so nice to see that people check up on Love Lessons despite it being out of action for a few months. They really make me smile :-D This chapter is just a short one before the final chapter. So... on we go as promised!

DAMON'S POV

"If you have any questions or would like to talk Mr Salvatore, plea-"

Damon slowly shook his head. Despite the fact he was saying to himself only 20 minutes ago that he was sick and tired of being alone. After what he just saw, he needed to be alone again. It was too painful to talk anyway.

From staring at the blank wall before him, his eyes glanced across to the nurse who wound the last of the fresh bandage around his right hand. Covering up the mangled flesh that he had just seen for the first time.

"I understand that you must feel quite shocked, but we can help you as and when you are ready" continued Doctor Fell.

The nurse who fixed his arm back up caught his eye and quickly moved away to leave the room. He knew he was glaring, but the sooner he got the Doctor to leave the room as well the better, but she seemed quite happy to stay even though he was deliberately avoiding the fact she was standing in the room with him. With the mirror still held in her arms.

"Is there anything I can do for you before I go?" she asked softly, drifting over to the bed so he had no choice but to look at her. She was a doll and he couldn't thank her enough for her time and dedication. There was a lot that she could do for him; the elastic wiring of his breathing mask had become twisted around the back of his head and he knew he wouldn't be able to reach himself to untangle it. His throat was still in agony and an endless supply of iced water would go down a treat. The base of his right foot was itching like a bitch and if he could have a quarter-pounder cheese burger from McDonald's that would be fantastic.

Instead, he just shook his head slowly once more. He needed to absorb what had just happened.

Disheartened, Doctor Fell excused herself from the room and left him alone.

The gentle hiss of air swirling through his mask was all that could be heard. He momentarily thought about how nice it was to have that awful tubing removed from his throat. It felt like a milestone to breathe more independently. Even to adjust his bed so he could sit upright, shake his daily routine up a bit and see a better view of the wall and what not! This morning he felt that all he needed to do now was get by without this irritating oxygen mask every day, ease himself back into a full conversation with someone without struggling and he would be laughing.

But then Doctor Fell asked if he was ready to see his injuries.

"Sure. Why not. Let's get it over with." he said... albeit rather slowly and with great discomfort. He wished he'd listened to Doctor Fell's advice. Which was to reveal the burns little by little, to ask him how he felt, if he wanted to continue, if he wanted to stop. Full of the bravado and on a particularly good start to the day, Damon told them to just show him. That he'd be fine.

He almost vomited with shock as the mirror revealed his reflection. Angry, ugly and painfully sore burns, skin-grafts that in his eyes looked unsuccessful and useless, yet Doctor Fell assured him that with more surgery they would look better over time. With psychological help for PTSD, depression, anxiety he could get through this. It was at that point that Damon asked her to leave the room.

Damon hated vanity. But all he could think for a moment was how good his body looked before. He looked after himself, worked-out, ate well and had the benefits of that. Now it was gone. The right side of his torso pretty much melted away. And his arm. Good Lord his arm... The bandages were deceiving. As naïve as it was, he expected his arm to look burned, still pretty red and a couple of bad wounds but never did he expect to see that. It didn't seem real, yet at the same time it was dawning on him that this was his life from now on and he just needed to cope with that.

That's what life was now - coping.

Suddenly that twisted wire around his head was really starting to fuck him right off. The elastic digging against his scalp, causing the mask to feel tighter on his face.

He knew he couldn't reach the goddamn thing with his left arm but tried anyway. He could buzz for help, but he was far too stubborn for that. He'd been a stubborn prick all day, thinking he'd know better and mentally kicked himself in the shin for it.

Come on you fucker...

Slowly, he eased himself into a sitting position to reach better. It hurt. Enough to feel like his chest was still burning. But he was determined to reach it, snap it back into place and carefully ease back against the bed. No use. Weak muscled and energy waning, Damon ended up slumped back against the bed. He rode out the pain as best as he could, which wasn't very well at all.

Yet that elastic still continued to give him grief.

Frustrated and angry, Damon yanked off his mask and attempted to breathe solo.

Fuck... he sounded like he was dying. The sensation felt like he was breathing through a straw, a phlegm-like substance curdling painfully in the pit of his throat. His chest rose up and down faster and faster in a panic to gain more oxygen. It brought flashbacks; the moment he staggered to his knees with Stefan in tow, the exit to the building so close yet the fumes took hold completely and he succumbed to its power.

Through his effort of breathing he didn't notice Elena enter the room.

"Damon, what are you doing!? Put your mask back on!"

With a horrified look on her face she came storming over to his bedside to adjust his mask back to his face. She looked so worried and he felt awful for frightening her. He placed his hand of top of hers that held his mask at the ready and tugged her hand slightly. Wanting to bring her closer.

She furrowed her brow a little, but then she came to realize... that he was wanting to kiss her. Desperately.

"Damon I... we"

He knew it was dangerous. He knew they'd been through enough but he just needed one quick kiss. He needed this to make this day worth getting through another.

Her gorgeous brown eyes checked the door, listened out for a second, then she drew her attention back to him. He was really struggling to breathe normally now and needed to kiss her before he would eventually have to choose the mask over her.

He stroked a hand through her silky hair, tucking it behind her ear and cupping his hand at the back of her head to draw her closer. Her eyelashes flickered as his lips met hers with the gentlest of touches. She released a soft sound of comfort and Damon suddenly gained the strength to deepen the kiss. Her response was incredible. As they kissed harder she brushed her hand through his hair, stroking her thumb across his cheek, then her fingers grazing along his jaw, cupping his chin and tilting his head back so she could take control. Her long hair shielded them from the outside world. Through hazy eyes Damon met those of a deep, sensual brown that stared down at him with love. This girl was everything to him. He wanted to kiss her forever. He would die a happy man. Suddenly it felt like he almost would as he had to tear himself away from her lips, caught in some weird breathing seizure as he tried to regain some rhythm of breathing.

"Sorry," he said, his voice so damaged it didn't sound like his own.

Elena quickly and carefully placed the mask back over his face. Ohh... that air felt so, so good. She noticed the twist in elastic herself and straightened it for him. He smiled.

"How's that?" she asked.

Damon gave her a thumbs up and rewarded her with a smirk underneath the plastic dome that covered his mouth. She blushed and tucked her hair behind her ear. Damn it how he wanted to get himself out of this bed and whisk her away. She had explained everything that had happened on her last visit. From Isobel's death, Bonnie and Stefan's statements to the police, the offer that John had made... Jonathan Gilbert of all people, has said he is not going to lift the lid on his relationship with Elena. He was going to leave them be under the circumstances that Elena would graduate before they continued their relationship. Damon had no problem with that. He'd be happy to wait a decade if he had to.

Yet now he knew what he looked like underneath all these bandages... would she want to wait for a body as damaged as his?

Would it be fair to expect her to?

He knew she wasn't superficial, she was a beautiful person inside and out and it wouldn't matter to her. But she was so young and she had already suffered so much grief. Yet here she was in hospitals again, he'd almost died and death had already consumed two family members too many for her. He was in for a tough ride both physically and mentally and he didn't want to put her through that.

"I bumped into Doctor Fell down the hallway... I swear that woman doesn't sleep" Elena said, stroking his left arm. He watched her face alter from smiling to very much serious. "She told me that you saw yourself today... for the first time..."

Damon knew she would mention it. He remained silent. He had no idea where to start.

"I wish I had been here that little bit sooner. I could have been there with you."

"They wouldn't have... allow it" Damon breathed, seeing a flash of hurt cross her soft features.

"Well regardless... I just wish I could have been there to support you" she said sternly, probably pissed that he didn't acknowledge the sentiment in her words but in truth he would have hated it if she were there. He didn't want her to see the state he was in. It was ugly. There was no other way of putting it.

"It's... bad" he croaked. "Really... really bad."

"But it will get better," she said, her voice heavy with hope and optimism. "It'll be a long road to recovery, but we'll get there. I am going to be there to take care of you."

"N-no... you're not."

"Damon..." she said, her voice tainted with hurt and confusion. Her hold of his hand was slipping away but Damon squeezed her hand back to his.

"Your Uncle... We have to listen to him... You need to concentrate on your... on your education... your friends... building up your life. I'll be..." His chest began to tighten a little and he hoped Elena would give him a minute to recover. She watched him with glassy eyes, clearly scared of what he might say. "I'll get better... I'll rebuild some... somehow. It's a long, long road 'Lena... I won't have you, so young, dedicating your time to looking after me... When you graduate... I'll be... I'll be waiting... but I won't expect you to wait for..."

"Don't you dare finish that sentence Damon Salvatore."

Whoa... Damon had never heard her so angry before. His weeping angel suddenly transformed into an angry Goddess, standing above him with her eyes penetrating into his.

"I am going to wait for you. A few burns aren't going to scare me away, Damon. You could have had your face burned off and I would still be here. I love you, Damon. You brought me back to life and I want to live it with you. I know we'll listen to John, but that doesn't mean I won't look after you if I ever needed to. I wish I could be there through each and every step of this healing process. From the emotional to physical. But I will wait.. because you mean everything to me. Everything..."

Final chapter is in the post! Anna x