AN: This one is from Damon's POV. I don't have too much to say about this, except that it's intense. Enjoy it!
Nobody knows I'm all alone
Living in this castle made of stone
They say that money is freedom
But I feel trapped inside it all
Damon woke up with a splitting headache and dressed only in a pair of briefs. He looked at the other side of the bed and groaned, annoyed when he saw a blonde, naked. He must've forgotten to tell her to leave. This wasn't him anymore. He should've been home a week ago and still, here he was; in Shanghai, enjoying life. Or trying to anyway. He was failing miserably at anything he tried to do, except business.
The blonde- what the hell was her name? He couldn't have been so drunk that he can't remember. Maybe Joana, or Loreen? He pounded the possibilities and choose Loreen; she had a Loreen face- woke up and stood up. She began to kiss his back and stroke his hair. He rolled his eyes and turned to face her.
"I think it's time we say goodbye." He deadpanned and watched how her face crumbled.
"But we had so-," she began but never got to finish.
"Yeah, yeah, we did. Such a shame I'm American. I got to go back home, babe. Maybe we'll meet again." Damon said and those were the last words he said to her. He walked into the bathroom of his hotel suite and turned on the water, leaving behind a screaming and swearing what? Loreen?
3PM. Just hours ago, he was showering and thinking about what he would do first when he got back. And now, he was landing at JFK Airport and he had no idea where should he go. He thought about visiting Elena, he missed her a lot. It was hell not to talk to her for such a long time. The messages were great, of course, but he wanted to see her in person, to be able to touch his friend. Thinking more, he changed his mind and decided he would go to the office. He shouldn't go to Elena like that, he should at least buy her some flowers to go with the frame he had gotten her.
And Stefan. He wanted to talk to his brother as well, but he was sure that wherever he was now, Caroline was there as well and he just wasn't ready to be welcomed home by Blondie. Half and hour later, he was sitting in the cab, impatiently running his hand through his hair. He was sure now that if he had called his driver, he would've been at the office already. Why was he in such a hurry to get there, anyway? The commercial for Shanghai was already done; it was the reason he remained there for such a long time. Maybe the women as well. Oh and the food. The authentic Chinese food was some of the best things in life. He remembered Elena and their first dinner together. They had spaghetti and wine. She told him a few weeks later that she wanted to get Chinese food, but she thought he only ate expensive stuff. He laughed in her face and told her that he could show her his underwear and how they didn't have Calvin Klein written on them. Well, not on every single one.
He walked into the reception. Everyone greeted him like he has been gone for years; well, he has been away for a long time, but that was irrelevant. He was sure that they were so happy he was back because he was a better boss than Stefan. Stefan was always brooding, too serious and too...annoying. And Damon was just Damon; mean, sexy, funny. He took the elevator and waited for it to go up to the fifteenth floor, where his office was and when he got out of the moving box, as he liked to call it, he made his way down the hallway.
As Damon was in no rush to get to his office, he lazily moved across the hallway, gazing at the paintings and the best commercials hung on the wall. But as he turned his back, someone crushed against his body and not even looking back, the woman stopped.
"Watch it, idi-" She started as she turned around, but her eyes opened wide and a big smile appeared on her face at the sight of him. Damon smirked and he barely had a chance to greet her because the next moment, she was in his arms, laughing and crying at the same time.
"Damon! Don't you ever leave me alone for that long again. I missed you." The woman said and he rolled his eyes, like he did with his friends and family.
"Pff, don't be such a girl, Gilbert. I'm sure you had people to entertain you here." Damon said and looked Elena over from head to toe.
"It's been two months, you asshole, of course I missed you. We have to celebrate your homecoming." Elena mumbled, trying to seem annoyed but her face gave her up because he could see how happy she was to see him.
Although he wasn't the share the love kind of man, he really missed her too. In the months he had known Elena, he had come accustomed to seeing her often, if not everyday. And communicating only through messages and phone calls didn't mean anything if he couldn't see her face. He didn't know why, but he had come to care immensely for this girl, so much so that if someone hurt her, he would murder them.
"You've lost some weight. You're so much thinner, Elena. I don't like it." He said and narrowed his eyes.
"Yeah, that's what work can do to you." She deadpanned.
"So what are you doing here?" He asked, curious. She couldn't have known that he would be back because he hadn't told anyone, not even Stefan. He looked at her clothes and raised an eyebrow. She was dressed too office-like to be here just visiting; a white dress above the knees and black bootees. That was intriguing.
"Just working, you know." She said and shrugged like what she has just told him was the most normal thing in the world, but he had no idea what she was talking about.
"Well, shouldn't you be at work right now? It's 3:30 PM on a Friday. Did the Americans make Friday a free day in these two months I was gone?" Damon asked, shaking his head confused.
"Oh, stop being lymphatic. I'm working here. And don't you even think that now that you're back I'm calling you boss." Elena mumbled and she turned around, ready to leave and leave him there, alone and dumbfounded.
"Wha- You didn't tell me that you decided to work here. When did this happen? And why?"
"You make me think that you don't even want me to be here. I've been working here for the last month, Damon. And the reason is simple. I got a new boss at the other job and he was hitting on me. I quit. And then I thought about coming to work here; knowing it would make you happy. Because it does, doesn't it?" She narrowed her eyes after telling him all this.
"Of course, yes. Still, you should've told me. So, what are you working on?" Damon asked.
"I got to tell you, Salvatore, that this job has so many perks. I can do what I like, whether I write articles for you or scripts for commercials and so much other stuff." She said, smiling at him.
He still couldn't believe that he was back and she was here and much less that he would see her every day, every minute of the day, because she was working with him now. That brought a little light inside of him and he had no idea why he felt so good about this. And he tried to remind himself over and over again that he wasn't friends with women, but failed miserably when it came to Elena.
"Well, I should probably get back to work. But I won't forget about that party. So get to planning something for us, Damon." She said as she walked away. He stood there, smiling like an idiot, while watching her disappear around the corner.
Damon walked into his office to find Stefan hovering above Caroline on his desk. He shut the door close and narrowed his eyes before applauding sarcastically.
"Why does it have to be on my desk, Stefan? At least, go for the couch. It's why I put it there." He deadpanned and looked at their shocked faces.
"Damon! When did you come back and what are you doing here?" Stefan asked as he hurried to close the buttons of his shirt.
"You idiot! Don't you knock?" Caroline screamed as she covered her camisole.
Damon blinked a few times as if to understand what the heck was wrong with those two.
"First, I've just arrived, little bro. Second, this is my office Blondie and I can enter however I want; even naked. And third; I want that disinfected." He said and pointed to the desk.
"How I wish the Chinese would've eaten you, Salvawhore!" Caroline stomped her feet like she was a five-year old and that only made him laugh at her and make fun of her immaturity. Stefan looked at him and cleared his throat, taking a few steps forward to greet his brother.
"I have to tell you something and what better occasion than this one?" Stefan said, still embarrassed because of what happened just a few minutes earlier. Damon sat on the couch, waiting to hear the breaking news, because it seemed like this was all he was getting lately. "I asked Caroline to marry me."
His brother's words hit him like a bucket of cold water and he didn't even have time to relax or anything because he was back on his feet in a moment.
"What the hell, Stefan? You're young, live you life, sleep with all of New York. You cannot get married now." Damon protested and it was just for Stefan's sake and he should've known that by now. He didn't want his brother to make the same mistakes as he did; fall in love, move in together and then, when about to propose, to be abandoned.
"Damon! I didn't tell you this to hear your advice. I am happy and I want you to be happy for me." Stefan mumbled annoyed, while Caroline was sitting on his desk, fidgeting with her fingers.
"I'm sorry I cannot be happy you're marrying a soon-to-be whore." Damon hissed through gritted teeth and his gaze snapped to the blonde who was already coming towards him to slap him. He grabbed her hand furiously. "Tut, tut. This doesn't work with me, Blondie. Keep your distance!" Damon warned and let go of her arm and she started to rub it gently.
"Watch your mouth, Damon! I've punched you already, I can easily do it again." Stefan hissed and he grabbed Caroline's hand, ready to leave his brother's office.
"I'm going to prove you wrong." Damon announced as he watched his little brother.
Stefan stopped for a moment and he opened the door again. His eyes were narrowed and he ran a hand through his hair, a custom that Damon shared when he was nervous.
"What is that supposed to mean?" He asked and Damon shrugged nonchalantly.
"It means just what it's supposed to mean." Damon replied and he walked to the desk, sitting in the chair and putting his feet up, like he used to. But really, what was that supposed to mean? He didn't even know why he said it. Only if he could prove to Stefan that Caroline wasn't good for him, he would. She was exactly like Katherine and it was the last thing he wanted in Stefan's life. He loved his brother and he wanted to see him happy.
A few hours later, he grabbed the little box from his desk and left. He wasn't sure if he should visit him, but he hoped that if they talked now, things would get better. Damon stopped in front of the door and hesitantly made a step forward. He raised his hand to the doorknob and pushed the door open. He hadn't been in this place for a long time; maybe a year or so. But he could still smell the tobacco mixed with scotch and mint. It was the smell that he had grown up with and he would probably remember for the rest of his life.
Damon forced his legs to move and once he reached his destination, he opened the door and walked inside. The man at the desk was engaged in a phone call so he decided to take his coat off and wait for him to finish. There were so many things he could tell him but he was afraid he would only make things worse.
"Welcome back, Damon." The man didn't bother to get on his feet to greet him.
"Thank you, Father." Damon said and he pushed the box towards the man.
"Hm, a present. How nice of you. Did you think this could erase all the bad memories you've created for me or..?" His dad started and as soon as he questioned him, Damon stood up and pushed the chair away, leaning his body on his father's desk.
"What do you want from me? I wanted to make peace with you! I want things to be fine! What the hell do you want?" He snapped, his voice filled with his emotions.
"Don't you yell at me, Damon Salvatore! I've always detested the way you treated things with such indifference, like you were the king of the world."
"What is it about me that makes you hate me so much? Why me? Why do you love Stefan so much and you hate me?" Damon questioned, his voice lowered.
"Don't be stupid. I don't hate you, Damon. How could I? You're my son, you're a piece of me." Giuseppe said and Damon could see that he was doing his best to keep his calm.
"Oh yeah? Because hell, you've never been a father for me. You couldn't even put a fucking hoop in the driveway when I begged you to." Damon jerked his finger to his father.
"That's all you've got? Basketball? Why is this even relevant?"
"Every kid should have a hoop." He said, feeling a lump forming in his throat.
"Do you really want to know the reason why we've never been close? Why I've tried to stay away from you?" Giuseppe asked and Damon shrugged his shoulders. Somehow he was afraid of the answer but he couldn't live with that insecurity anymore. Not after what happened.
"You remind me of her; your mother. You have the exact blue eyes as she had, the black hair...even her traits. Stefan is different. He doesn't remind me of her, he's more like me." Damon's eyes started to sting but he didn't want to let his father see how affected he was by his words. He just stood there, listening to all that Giuseppe had to say. Eventually, he said something.
"That's not the best of the excuses." He smiled full of sorrow.
"Does it make you feel better if I told you you killed her?" These last words made Damon turn around and for the first time in his life, he wished he was dead. He wished that he was dead because that...that was something he couldn't live with.
"What are you trying to say?" He asked confused and hurt, but it came out like a whisper.
"Sit down." Giuseppe pointed to the chair he had thrown earlier. "Sit, I said."
Knowing his father and knowing that he wouldn't tell him anything else until he followed orders, Damon grabbed the chair and sat, trying to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to find out. But little did he know this wasn't something he would ever be ready to hear.
"There were some complications, when you were born. Your mother had gotten very sick. She knew she wouldn't last more than a few years and that's why we had Stefan. She didn't want you to be alone. You know that she died when she gave birth to Stefan. But that wouldn't have happened if it weren't for those complications when she was pregnant with you. Is that what you wanted to hear all along?"
Damon took his coat and turned his back on his father. He exited the house of his childhood as fast as he could and walked straight to the car. He drove all the way back to his apartment, while replaying the few memories he had of his mother over and over again. He spent the rest of the day sitting on the floor of his apartment, trying to tell himself that it wasn't his fault, that he couldnt't be held accountable for this. What guilt could a child carry for being born? But as much as he tried to deny it, he felt like he was on the verge of exploding. He couldn't breathe and he couldn't stop hearing his father's voice in his head; you killed her. And then there was Stefan, his younger brother, laughing in his face and telling him that he was cursed. Then, his face would change into his mother's face. She would caress his face and soothe him, before she would jerk her finger in his face and tell him that he killed her.
He started to pace the room, searching for something that could make him forget, for someone to hear him out and soothe him, but there was only emptiness around. He was responsible for this; he had built this world of emptiness, a world that he liked to brag about, but in the end, it was all wrong. Damon grabbed his keys and didn't even bother to get his coat. He drove all the way to the other side of the town, to see a person that he knew he could trust.
"Hi. I'm sorry to bother you at this hour." He said and smiled against all that happened, because it was impossible not to smile when seeing her.
"Damon. Are you okay?"
"Can I come in?" He asked, unsure of how she would answer.
"Sure."
Damon went straight to the couch and sat there, in complete silence, his gaze setting on the person in front of him, staring at her blankly.
"Damon, are you okay?" She repeated and his mind started to process the words.
"I killed her. Elena…I killed her." He mumbled, his voice low and his hands shaking.
Elena's face changed immediately and she walked towards the couch, sitting next to him and grabbed his hands in her own.
"Oh my god, your hands are so cold. What is going on Damon? What are you saying?"
"My mother. I killed her, 'Lena." He said and some tears threatened to appear in his eyes but he stopped them, or at least tried to.
"What are you..? Damon? What does this mean?" Elena asked, her hands shaking along with his and her mouth opened in shock.
"My father told me she died because of a complication she had when she had me. It's my fault. All these years I've wondered why he hates me. Of course he does. Who wouldn't?"
"Damon...it's not your fault. Trust me, it is not. Remember the story I told you? About how my parents died?" She asked, sorrow in her eyes. Damon started to regret that he came to her with this problem. He should've remembered that what she's been through was much worse. She actually saw her parents die. He nodded shortly and ran a hand through his hair.
"That means it's my fault, right?" Elena asked, but he felt like she wasn't talking to him, like she was talking to herself or someone who wasn't there.
"No! Of course not."
"Then stop saying it's your fault. You didn't do anything wrong." She tried to soothe him and stood up, walked to the kitchen and came back with two glasses and a bottle of scotch. "Here, you need it." She said and handed him his glass. He gulped it down as soon as he got it.
A bottle of scotch later, Damon was drunk enough to not be able to stand on his own feet. He looked at Elena, who was as sober as possible, because she hadn't had more than a glass.
"You know, he told me I look like her and that's why he cannot stand me."
"Come on Damon, I think you've had enough to drink. Can you get up?" Elena asked and she grabbed his hand, trying to pull him up.
"I don't think so." He chuckled and he saw a trace of smile on her face.
"Here, I'll help you." She said and put his arm around her shoulders. He did the best he could and finally stood up. Elena started to walk to the other room.
"You're not kicking me out?" He giggled amused.
"No. I'm putting you to bed." Elena said and struggled to walk to the bed. Before she could come to help him sit, they stumbled on the rug and fell on the bed, her body being squashed underneath his.
"Damon, you're choking me." She said and tried to push him off her. He did his best to move himself off of her, but their faces were still so close, that he could feel her breath against his face. For an unknown reason, he couldn't stop staring into her eyes. Damon raised his hand and slowly cupped her cheek.
"You are one of the best things that's happened to me lately." He mumbled and smiled. And it was true. She had been the best friend he could've asked for. She had been there for him more than his father, more than any other friend he had ever had. He would be lost without her.
"You are one of the best things for me too." Elena said and she playfully pushed him. He landed on the pillow next to him and surrendered to the softness and the warmth of her little bedroom.
Darkness surrounded the room and he instantly fell asleep, dreaming of a happy childhood and an even happier future.