Chapter 2

Damon Salvatore felt the dawn coming and knew he couldn't escape it. He didn't want to.

He stirred in the mix of hot dirt and even hotter sand. His body was splayed in the center of what seemed like a god forgotten dirt pile, and wondered for a second where the hell he was. Then he remembered. A vague echo of a memory danced through his dazed mind. He'd come back to Arizona as he had every year since HER death.

It was the week before Easter and he'd come here to hide away. To forget. To remember. To lose himself in the serene quiet of what was still a wilderness.

Katherine Pierce, the woman he once believed to be his one and true love, had spoken to him so clearly about Arizona and a house she owned there. A house that would be theirs once they were together, one time after their lovemaking under the stars.

Of course that was right before she left him and went to Stefan's bed to make the same promise. But that was another story for another time.

He blinked and focused his eyes on a nearby cactus. One that had a set of huge sunglasses and a sombrero hat. The wilderness had done some changing.

But what did it matter? He wasn't here to remember. He was here to forget. He was here to make his one last brotherly act. If Elena and Katherine (the doppelgangers were far more alike than either wanted to admit) refused to make a choice between the brothers, he'd make his choice.

He would extract himself off the equation.

The pounding ache in his head, the lethargy of his body, the creeping sluggishness moving through his system told him that he didn't have enough time to revisit those memories. He shifted his gaze to the lightening sky.

Already, that broad, sweeping expanse was a faint shade of lavender, announcing the coming sun over the Carfree mountains. And while he watched the day begin, he thought about just how long it had been since the last time he'd seen a sunrise unprotected.

One hundred and forty one years.

Times had been so different then. Hell, he had been different, then. Alive, for one. Had his baby brother as a best friend. He was under his father's scrutiny as Giuseppe was in clear support of the system "the heir and the rest" and hated him for not wanting to fight in the Civil War or join in the family biz but didn't bat an eyelash when Stefan spent his days reading as HE did want to take over the family biz. And not in danger of combusting in the first rays of dawn if he didn't have his ring on. the ring he had tossed nearby right before he collapsed.

"Ironic or poetic that I should die at sunrise again?"

he whispered, just to hear a sound other than the soft sigh of the wind through the unkempt bushes. He'd taken a vow with his brother to die together at sunrise. His brother lost the battle with the hunger and he ate their father. Long story short Stefan brought him one of their servants to feast on and complete the transformation. He gave in too even if Stefan chose to tell the tale of their new births in the opposite way. It was the last sunrise he saw with no fear...

His skin prickled with the coming of the sun. It felt as though every nerve ending in his body was suddenly electrically charged. He'd seen so much over the years. Done so much. He frowned at that stray thought, then let it go. He was what he was. Too late now to regret the past. And far too late to beg forgiveness of a God who'd written him off a century before. But there would probably be a welcome party in Hell just for him.

Damon closed his icy blue eyes, smiled a little and waited for the flash of fire that would consume him.

"Are you all right?"

A soft voice, definitely female, filled with concern and just a little fear.

He didn't have to hear her fright. He could smell it. Taste it. Opening his eyes again, though it took a Herculean effort, Damon stared up at a woman, backlit by the growing light. A heart shaped face framed by long curls, Cupid's bow lips even if the top one was slightly fuller than it should be and deep chocolate eyes. The dark hair had a shine of bright red, deep auburn and warm amber under the rays of a hurrying sun.

"Katherine?"

He rasped even though he knew he was wrong. Had she come to him after all? Had she chosen him? She smiled, shook her head until her curls danced and answered her own question.

"Of course you're not all right. You're lying in the sun, probably half-baked and your head's bleeding. Not a good sign at all"

His head was bleeding? Explained the pounding in his skull, but damned if Damon could remember what had happened to him. Her scent flavored the air around her. Rosy soap and strawberries shampoo and something that was inherently her. She smelled like... Home

"Well, I can't just leave you lying out here in the yard"

She stood and looked around, as if hoping help would appear. When nothing happened, this wasn't a Hollywood movie; she glanced back at him and said

"I can get you out of the heat, but no way can I lift you. I probably shouldn't move you at all, but you'll burn to a crisp here, right?"

She nodded, convinced by her own argument. She glanced around the empty yard, then back to him.

"The garage is closer. We'll go there, and then get you into the house. I can't leave you out here. And don't worry. I'm stronger than I look. I'm pretty sure I can drag you there."

Drag him? He glanced at her and with a single look took in her short, curvy figure. Dressed in a light green top thing or another, sand colored shorts that left far too much flesh to his prying eyes and sneakers, she was a slight woman, nowhere near muscular enough to drag him anywhere.

But she grabbed his hands in hers softly yet determined.

"Wow, you've been out here a long time. Your hands are like fire"

She winced at what she said. The soft heartbeat in her chest stilled for a single pulse as she stiffened. Then she shook her head, the heartbeat fastened once again and her brown eyes bore into him.

Damon knew these eyes...

A memory flashed in front of his eyes. A little girl no older than four or five in tutu and pigtails and an armful of books in her tiny arms. She was smiling happily at him, waving goodbye.

The memory went away just as fast as it had appeared

"Don't"

Damon said as the soft hands intertwined with his bringing him to the present. He pushed that single word past lips that felt wooden, stiff with both the cold inside him and the coming dawn. He didn't want her help. Safer for her if she just stayed away from him. He was a lost cause, anyway.

"You're right."

She dropped his hands, and bent down beside him.

"Look, I'll never be able to drag you. But I could probably help you walk, if you've got it in you. Just lean on me and we'll get you out of this heat"

She pulled him into a sitting position and Damon, understanding that she was clearly not going to give up on helping him, called on every last ounce of his remaining strength. He turned to look in her eyes and compelled her

"Leave me to die. Please"

The dark orbs widened

"I can't do that. Life sucks sometimes but the sun is almost out. It's a new day and it deserves to be lived"

The woman said in a soft voice. In her tone he could understand the mantra she must have repeated to herself a dozen times already. He was also too week to compell her properly as she wrapped one of his arms around her shoulders and pulled him close. His body was tired. Fatigue seeped into every cell and bled into his veins.

The dawn crept nearer and every minute that passed brought him closer to oblivion. He'd thought, only moments ago, that he was ready to face it. That he welcomed the end. Now though, he felt the same will to survive that had trapped him in this particular hell a hundred and forty one years ago.

He leaned heavily on the woman and her scent teased him—surrounded him. He heard the rush of blood through her body and the fast drum of her heart and everything within him hungered. Raw, desperate need formed a knot in his throat and Damon choked on it.

His hand tightened on her shoulder and he steeled himself against the hunger that clamored to be eased. It had been a long time since he'd fed from a living being. Oh the joys of trying to change! But damn if she wasn't a tempting morsel.

"Just a little farther,"

She said. The sun was coming. He stumbled and her arm around his waist constricted as she took more of his leaden weight.

"Keep going. Almost there."

She said, her voice a whisper now, strained with effort. Why did she care? What made her go out of her way for a strange man? Shouldn't she have been more concerned for her own safety rather than his? If she'd been smart, she would have called the police when she first spotted him. Although, if she had, he would have been no more than a pile of smoking ash by the time they arrived.

One more step. And another. He forced his legs to move. Forced himself to survive. Again. Why? Instinct, he guessed. Had to be. Even his kind fought for another day at life—such as it was.

He felt the skin on the back of his right hand sizzle. He glanced down and saw the slight twist of smoke lifting from his flesh as the first, barest hint of sunlight touched him. Damon clenched his teeth against the searing pain and told himself it was no more than he deserved.

"Something's burning,"

She said, never slowing, never stopping.

"Close by."

She finished with another wince as if she had been trapped in fire before. She'd find herself in that situation again. A snarky voice inside Damon's head mocked. His own voice from before. Before he moved to Mystic falls two years ago. Before he fell in love again. Before he was once again tossed aside in favor of his brother.

He slumped against her as the sizzle and heat began on his cheek now. Exposed flesh, unprotected by magic, went up as kindling and Damon knew he was only moments from being engulfed. And if the flames took him while she was wrapped around him, this Good Samaritan would die along with him.

He couldn't have that.

He'd done damage enough in his too long life already. Pushing free of her, he staggered forward.

"What're you doing?"

She tried to grab him again, but he lurched ahead, aimed at the open garage door.

"Stay back."

Two words, delivered as an order not to be ignored. Then he lunged for the cool shadows within the barn and toppled into them once past the threshold.

Instantly, relief poured over him like the cool kiss of ice. The darkness swallowed him, and Damon felt his body begin to heal, begin to awaken now that the morning light had been beaten back. He stirred, scraping his right hand on the rough wooden planks beneath him, and hissed in a breath as the rawness of his flesh erupted with pain. He cradled that hand in his other one and half turned to look at the woman standing in a slice of growing daylight. He squinted at her, made sure he was completely in the shadows, then said,

"Thank you."