A/N: Hey, guys! Thank you so much for your comments on the last chapter! I got about seven, that's a record! Since I promised to update sooner if you encourage me like this, here comes some of the Delena-action that you asked for. ;
Just don't get your hopes up too high: This entire story is slow-burn, focusing on the get-together between Damon and Elena. There are still some hurdles to overcome before IT will happen, and Elena is a tough nut to crack. She has yet to discover the caring heart beneath Damon's bad boy facade, and she's of the cautious kind. The next two chapters will be entirely Delena, though. Hope you enjoy!
ELENA
I didn't even know where I was going. Unconsciously, I found myself driving out of Mystic Falls. Since I had not intention of going back to Greenville either, I just took a turn to the left at the next intersection, heading south. I disregarded the right of way of an oncoming car that might or might not have been Damon's Camaro – it was hard to see in the dark. The tears in my eyes and the onset of rain further obscured my view.
The driver reacted fast, though, and managed to avoid collision. When I glanced in the rear mirror and saw a car in some distance behind me, I first thought that it was indeed Damon who had turned to follow me. But it definitively wasn't a convertible, but the same truck that had been behind me for a while now. I simply kept going, though not at high speed. Finally, the truck driver lost patience and passed me. He was soon lost in the rain and I was alone on the deserted road.
The humming of the motor was soothing. Unable to put emotional distance between me and all of Stefan's lies and secrets, distancing myself physically from him seemed like the next best thing. I knew I couldn't continue driving like this forever. Eventually, I would have to turn around and head home. But for the moment, I just wanted to get away from everybody and everything. The need to concentrate on my driving prevented my mind from pondering the myriad of questions and suspicions that would surely flood my brain otherwise.
The rain was coming down harder now, and I turned the wiper to move faster. That's when I suddenly saw the shadowy figure of a man in the middle of the road, appearing out of thin air. I jumped onto the brakes, but it was too late. There was a forceful impact when I hit the body and sent it flying across the windshield.
The wheels lost traction on the wet road, and my car, completely out of control, started spinning. Subconsciously, I tried to regain control by steering in the other direction, which only made it worse. After a 180 degree turn, my Volvo ended up facing back in the direction I had come. It still kept going, sliding towards the narrow strip of loose gravel on the road side, and finally off the bank.
Perching precariously lopsided on the slope of a drain water moat, the car finally came to a dead stop, leaning to its side. Not daring to breathe, I noted that the wheels on the driver's side were slowly caving into the soft and muddy ground. Weight and gravity were pulling on it, and finally won. Almost gently, the car toppled over, sliding down the steep slope. Gaining new momentum from the movement, it finally came to lie upside down, barely a foot above the water, with me hanging helplessly up-side-down in it, held in place by the seat belt.
There was nothing but the sound of the rain coming down on the underside of the car and my own, ragged breath. In shock and slightly dazed, I tried to get my bearings, looking through the front window. The car was facing back the way I had come. Just within the range of my headlights high above my head, I saw a truck parked on a side lane leading into a forest – and the form of a human body lying on the middle of the road. One leg was stuck out at a weird angle, and the head was twisted unnaturally. I had never seen a dead person before, but I knew immediately that I was looking at one now. There was no doubt. I had felt the impact, the dull thump as the body was hurled across the car and hit the road, where he was now lying in a heap of bruised flesh. So there was no, absolutely no reasonable explanation for what my eyes were witnessing now.
The heap was moving. Impossible as it was, the man got up. I thought I even heard his twisted leg and neck snapping back into place, like plastic joints of a doll. It was a setting straight out of a horror movie: The dark, deserted road, the rain, and the dark-clad zombie who was now back on his feet, his face hidden in his hoodie jacket, slowly coming towards me.
Not for a second did I believe that he was coming to my rescue. I simply knew he wasn't. I fought to get out of the car, desperate to get away, but I was stuck, hanging helplessly in the wreck of the car, watching death come closer with each steady step.
That's when I started screaming. It got dark, there was pain, and suddenly a pair of blinding lights. Then, in the middle of the screams still tearing from my throat, I heard somebody call my name.
"Elena! – Elena!"
The voice, getting more forceful as it tried to get through to me, sounded familiar. "Damon?" I didn't dare trust my eyes. But there he was, reaching through the open door of the car, cupping my cheek, soothing. "Sh-sh... calm down, it's okay! He's gone." Had he opened the door? I couldn't remember.
"Damon!" I sobbed, torn between immense relief, shock and fear, unable to think or speak coherently. My face was wet with tears. Or was it rain? I even felt the wetness burning its way down my throat.
Damon leaned closer and stuck his head into the car. He was all matter-of-fact as he briefly analyzed and summed up the situation. "You're stuck."
"The seatbelt..." I croaked, trying in vain to get out of it. It wouldn't release. Panic rose again. I was trapped.
"It's alright", he said calmly. "I'll get you out!" He gabbed the seatbelt and tried to catch my gaze. His expression was serious, but reassuring. "Okay, listen: I want you to push your hands against the roof. Yes, just like that. Now, on the count of three..." He pulled down hard. With a tearing noise, the seatbelt ripped apart and I came tumbling down. Before I could hit the floor, or rather the roof of the car, I was safely caught in Damon's arms.
"There... I've got you. " He swept me up and pulled me from the wreckage as if I weighed nothing, and I could have cried with relief. Reduced to a bundle of overexcited nerves firing contradicting signals, I was clinging to him, shaking badly. All I could think was that I was safe again and, oddly, how good it felt to be in his arms. Damon seemed a little shaken, too. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice sounding strained, almost anxious. "Did you break anything?"
"No... I don't know. My neck..." My hand flew up, trying to figure out by touch what was wrong. I winced when my fingers met bruised skin. It felt sore and wet.
"Here, let me see..." Damon let my feet slide to the ground for extra support, still bearing most of my weight with the one arm that was still holding me. Using his free hand to brush my hair aside and turn my head sideways, he bared the sensitive and burning part of my throat and inhaled sharply. "You're bleeding!" He sounded shocked, appalled, even scared. Had I cut myself? I hadn't even noticed.
"It burns!" I merely complained, not at all aware of the perilous situation – heavily bleeding in the arms of a vampire who apparently wasn't unaffected by the sight. But now that I knew I was hurt, the tingling sensation that I had felt in the aftermath of shock intensified, starting to interfere with my clear thinking. Damon had obviously noted that, too. He tried to make eye contact – taking my chin between his fingers and turning my head to face him again.
"Elena, look at me!" he ordered, and when I failed to comply immediately, more urgently again: "Look at me!"
I did. His face was very near. Very beautiful. I felt like I was drowning in the depths of his ocean eyes. Something flashed in it, like rays of sunlight on the surface of the sea. I was briefly distracted by a fleeting movement of something dark and black flying through my peripheral field of vision. Unable to turn my head because of his hold I wasn't able to follow it. Instead, my searching gaze attached to his lips. They were moving, forming words that didn't carry any meaning. I tried to concentrate, which was difficult, given that my awareness was slightly blurred.
"Focus, Elena, please!" Damon urged, trying to call my attention to what he was saying, but I only caught half-sentences that carried the sense of a warning and growing despair. Something about my blood and that he needed to take some of it, urgently. "I will not let this kill you, I promise!" he vowed, his gaze with fierce determination. "Tell me that you understand!"
I finally managed to direct my attention back to his eyes, not comprehending anything he said. I felt funny. Almost like I was drifting under water – close enough to the surface to make out silhouettes, yet unable to distinguish sounds or structures. The burning had turned into an intense feeling of pain, getting stronger by the second. I wondered why the water didn't have any cooling effect, and couldn't concentrate on anything apart from that.
"This might hurt a little now..." Damon's tone was getting more intent as he tried to – what? Apologize? Details were lost on me. Still, a perception of danger put me back on alert when Damon suddenly bent my head back and made a determined move for my throat. Before my startled cry had left my mouth, his lips closed on the raw flesh of my throat and the throbbing artery.
A new wave of pain hit me as he started sucking forcefully, bringing tears to my eyes. I made a feeble, futile attempt to fight him off, which he probably never even noticed. My arms and legs turned wobbly. I would have fallen if it wasn't for his iron grip. The antagonizing pain dulled to a strange pulling sensation that quickly spread over my entire body, like all my blood had stopped it's normal path of circulation and reversed it's flow. As the burning pain subsided, my weakness increased, and I was overtaken by an icy cold. My breathing turned shallow for lack of oxygen, and I was slowly fading into blackness. The realization that I was dying was the last thought that registered before my senses left me completely.
I was walking through a long and dark tunnel. It felt as if I had left my physical body behind, for there was neither pain nor any other sensation. Not even a sense of time. I felt strangely at ease – secure and comforted. From far away, I heard a voice rip through the cozy blanket of nothingness that cushioned my awareness. It was becoming louder and more irritating. I tried to ignore it, turn away from it, but it kept following me, pushing me closer to the edge of consciousness that only promised pain and discomfort. I could almost feel the incredible cold again that was numbing my body.
"Damn!" somebody cursed nearby. "Stay with me, Elena!" Something warm was shoved into my mouth and instantly, there was feeling again. The feel of something hard and fleshy. The taste of salt and metal. A thickly fluid running down my throat and forcing me to swallow. My eyes flew up, and I found myself back in my body.
I was lying in Damon's lap with my head in the crook of his encircling arm, his other wrist firmly pressed to my mouth. "There you go!" he murmured, his voice close to my ears, cooing softly and soothingly. His face was in my hair, his lips close to my forehead, caressing. The almost tender gesture stood in odd contrast to the unyielding pressure he still applied to my lips. "Just keep drinking..."
I didn't have a choice – the liquid that I now recognized to be blood kept pulsing from his wrist like a fountain, and I had no choice but to swallow, again and again. Something flooded my system – energy, adrenalin, rage – and my survival instincts kicked in. I started to fight his hold, trying to shake him off, and got totally panicky when I lacked the strength to be effective. Instead of kicking and thrashing, my limbs only responded with a weak twitch to my brain's command. Yet Damon suddenly let go of me. Immediately, I tried to get away from him. I wasn't getting very far, though. As I now realized, we were in his car – with Damon on the driver's side and me on the front passenger's seat.
"What are you doing?" I cried in horror, frantically pulling at the door handle. "Let me out!" Of course, the door didn't open. Most likely, he had locked it. He leaned over, trying to touch my shoulder, which made me even more panicky. "Elena, relax! It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you." His voice was intended to calm me, but it didn't. Nor did his words.
"Yes, you are! You did! You bit me!" All of a sudden, my memory came flooding back. Damon, leaning over me with dark, burning eyes, his mouth on my throat, a searing pain as he forcefully and greedily sucked and gulped down my blood.
"I didn't!" His exasperated protest didn't register with my brain as it attempted to reconstruct what had happened. He must have completely lost it – probably at the sight of my bleeding wound. He simply hadn't been able to resist. Though he might not have meant to kill me, he almost had, and was now trying save my life by the only means he could think of. If possible, I felt my body turn even colder with shock. "You've fed me your blood. You're turning me into a vampire!"
"Actually, that's what I was trying to prevent. Elena, will you please try to calm down and listen to me..."
"Let go of me!" My voice become louder and my attempts to get out of the car got more desperate.
"You're in no condition to go anywhere," Damon pointed out rationally. "I bet you can't even stand..." He sighed, released the locks and the door suddenly opened. I almost fell head first out of the car.
"Oops", Damon said, already outside at the passenger's side and reaching for me when I tried to catch my balance. "I told you so!" he said reproachfully, yet still grasped my elbows and pulled me into a semi-standing position, propping me with my back against the car. He took a step back when he saw that I managed to hold myself upright, getting out of my personal space. This at least helped me to calm down a bit. I took a look at my surroundings, but there wasn't much to see. Only the car, pulled over on a deserted highway that didn't bear any resemblance to the street that I had been on earlier this evening. Clearly, I had missed some vital part of what had happened.
"Where are we?" I asked, never noticing that he evaded giving an answer.
"You were in an accident – your car overturned, remember?"
I did. Quite clearly. "There was a man on the road," I muttered, shuddering at the ghostly image of a cloaked figure appearing out of thin air. "I hit a man. He seemed dead. But then he got up and came towards me – I don't remember clearly... Who was he?"
"That's something I'd like to know, too. One thing's sure, though – he was no man. He was a vampire. He bit you. And from the look of that wound, he didn't mean to play." Damon's gloomy words brought back the dull, throbbing pain that had momentarily been blotted out by other, more prevailing concerns.
"My neck..." I gingerly touched the still hurting wound and found my fingers to be smudged red. "It's still bleeding!"
"No, it's not," Damon said soberly. "That's not your blood." Confused, I looked at my blood-smeared fingers. "Then whose is it?"
"Mine." He wasn't making any sense. Nothing was making any sense. "God, I feel sick! Everything's dizzy..." I leaned over, putting my hands on my knees and bending my head. "I'm so cold..."
"You're in shock." Damon took his jacket off and put it over me. "Now, will you please stop fussing with me and get back into the car?"
"No, I'm not driving anywhere with you!"
"Well, you already did – without your magical necklace, I might add. I could easily make you agreeable and save myself some trouble! Now, let me drive you home, okay? I promise I'll explain everything once we're there."
"You're going to drive me home?" Not that I really believed it, but hope sure dies last.
"Yes." It sounded truthful enough. Considering my lack of options, I was prepared to consider his offer. But after what he had done to me, I had every reason to be suspicious. "Am I going to be safe with you?" What a stupid question. Of course I wasn't. He himself had told me so. Yet I was in desperate need of some reassurance.
"Yes," he obliged me again, though slightly exasperated. "You are seriously stretching my patience! You are hurt, unable to stand or walk, let alone think straight, and here I am, discussing I-don't-know-what with you, when I could just as well pick you up and put you in the car. Good point! Why not do that?"
"No! And you have to promise me not to compel me, either."
"Fine!"
"Can I trust you?"
He gave me a queer look. "If you don't, then what's the sense of asking that question, huh? Now, get in the car!" Trust Damon to apply slicing logic when emotional reassurance was called for. Yet with my heart rate returning to normal and the effect of stress hormones fading, others kicked in, calming, relaxing. I felt a wave of fatigue wash over me, sweeping away my resistance and any desire to argue further.
"I just don't know what's happening to me. I'm so tired..."
"You lost a fair amount of blood," Damon murmured, maneuvering me back into the car. "Now just relax," he gentled, and his hand briefly cupped my cheek as he strapped the seat belt on me. "You'll be fine. I'll make sure of that!" A promise, after all. Some comfort. Having no strength left, I leaned back and closed my eyes. Damon started the car, and we were on the road again; the low, steady humming of the engine strangely comforting. Despite being incredibly cold, I felt myself drifting off to sleep.
*'*'*'*'*
I woke feeling dizzy and disoriented in unfamiliar surroundings. Alerted, I opened my eyes fully and tried to get my bearings. The room was semi-dark, due to the fact that the only light was coming from a dying fire in a fireplace.
As my eyes grew accustomed to the shadowy light, I realized that I was in a king-size bed that appeared to be from a different century, in a generously sized bedroom. My searching gaze found Damon slumped on a nearby chair, apparently dozing.
Alarmed and suspicious, I tried to sit up and immediately felt a jolt of pain moving through my upper body. I winced and stopped moving, instinctively clutching my hands to the source of the pain. Damon's eyes flew open when he heard my stifled gasp.
"Where are we?" I demanded to know, a slight feeling of panic seeping in. Nothing here looked even remotely familiar. "You said you were going to take me home..."
"I did. This is 'home' – my home, to be exact." Damon smiled sheepishly. "I cheated."
"What?" I tried to make sense of his words as my flying gaze searched the room. "This is not the boarding house..."
"No, it isn't. We're in South Carolina."
"No!" I insisted, pressing a hand to my forehead as if looking for a rewind button. "We can't be in South Carolina!" It was impossible. We hadn't been driving that long. Or had we? I tried to remember the last couple of hours, but the images that came were confusing and too disturbing. Briefly closing my eyes, I tried to calm down. "You can't do this," I told him, hoping to sound stern. "This is kidnapping!"
"Ah!" Damon scoffed and twitched his mouth. "Isn't that a little melodramatic?"
"You've got to take me home!" Another attempt to move made me wince. Damon leaned forward, his expression now one of concern.
"What is it? Are you hurting?"
"I don't know. I can't seem to move. Something's on my chest..."
"You probably bruised a rib. I don't think you broke anything. I checked."
He checked? What exactly was that supposed to mean? Underneath the heavy blankets, I felt for my jeans, and found that I was at least half naked, wearing only my shirt and my underwear. "Did you undress me?" I asked, shocked at the liberties he had obviously taken.
"I merely took off your shoes and the wet stuff to make you comfortable. I don't think that falls under that label."
I tried not to get panicky again on contemplating that I had been abducted, carried into a hitherto unknown hiding place of a vampire while in state of unconsciousness, undressed and subjected to a physical. It was simply something decent people didn't do.
"Seriously, Elena," Damon tried to reason with me. "You have just been in a traumatic car accident. Your car overturned, you were attacked by a vampire and suffered serious blood loss, among other things. And certainly you were in no condition to be alone."
"You could have taken me to a hospital!"
"With those bite marks on you neck? I think not!"
"Nobody knows where I am!"
Damon shrugged. "You can call Alys. But I can tell you, she won't like it."
"All the more a reason not be here with you. Whose house is this, anyway?" I was trying desperately to think of something else but the throbbing pain and the utter helplessness I felt at being totally at his mercy.
"Mine," Damon said simply.
"You have your own house?"
"I'm 177. Too old to live under parental supervision, don't you think?"
"And I guess an apartment wouldn't have satisfied your needs?"
Damon's eyes took on a wolfish glint. "In an apartment, it would be much harder to satisfy my needs, if you get my meaning..."
"I have a fair idea," I murmured faintly, averting my gaze to find something more calming to focus on. Willing myself to relax, I looked around. We were in a decent sized room in which the bed was the centerpiece of furniture. There were two doors, but I couldn't see where they were leading to. The interior looked ageless in design and definitively male. There were two comfy chairs, a small coffee table and a bookshelf. "You have a fireplace in your bedroom..." I remarked, not sure what to think of that. Basically, I was just talking because I was feeling nervous, helpless and wound up.
"It's an old house." Damon shrugged, got up and came to sit on the edge of the bed.
"What are you doing?" I asked suspiciously when he reached for the comforter.
"I want to take a look at your ribs."
"You wish!" I said, grabbing the sheets tighter.
"Don't be silly!" Damon chided. "I just want to make sure that there's really nothing broken. If I see anything I haven't seen before in the process, I'll throw a dollar at it!"
"You wouldn't know what to look for, anyway."
"Says who? Actually, I almost made it to a degree."
I gave him an astonished look. "A medical degree?"
Damon rolled his eyes in exasperation. "No, one in philosophy – that's why I think I know what I'm doing here... Of course, a medical degree – among others." The corners of his mouth lifted slightly. "Personnel have access to hospital blood banks, and I had time to spare in the 80s. How do you think I managed to handle those transfusions, otherwise?"
Transfusions? I frowned and followed his gaze. Only now did I notice the makeshift IV stand behind the bed, improvised from an old-fashioned hat-stand. An empty blood bag and a long tube were dangling from a hook. I felt myself pale. "Tell me you didn't hook me up to that..."
The obvious shock in my voice didn't faze him. "You lost about half of your blood, which left you more dead than alive. It's just so lucky that I happened to have a few blood bags in the fridge."
"You didn't even know my blood type..."
Damon merely looked at me from lowered eye lashes. "B positive. One of my favorite tastes, by the way. Now, move up that shirt." He was adamant, the stern look of his eyes telling me that he wouldn't be argued with. I sighed and gave in. At least, I still had my bra on, and no matter what he found, I wouldn't be taking that off.
Damon never suggested it. In an apparently professional manner he examined my ribs, probing the part that was especially tender. "Does that hurt?"
"Yess!" I hissed, when even the gentle pressure of his probing fingers sent another wave of pain through my body. And somehow, also caused my stomach to flip in a kind of roller coaster, upside-down, butterfly feeling.
"I don't think it's broken, though," Damon concluded, all matter-of-fact. "Just badly bruised. Even if it was, there's nothing that can be done about it except waiting for it to heal. Still, it's gonna be painful for a while. It's starting to color already." He helped me to get the shirt back down and put the blanket over me. "I'll get you some pain medication. Now, stay comfortable while I go down and do that. I'll fix you something to eat and drink, too."
"I'm not hungry." Which was funny, considering my stomach had been grumbling already at Stefan's place. I guess recent events had taken their toll my appetite.
"Eat something anyway," he advised, still in doctor mode. "Your body will need lots of liquids and energy to replenish the blood loss."
I frowned, trying to recall the events after the crash. "I can't remember him drinking from me – he was gone all of a sudden, it all went very fast. He can't have taken all that much..."
"He didn't," Damon said, returning my gaze. "I did."
On hearing him say this, my mind dutifully delivered shreds of memories of what had happened shortly before I had passed out. "So that wasn't a bad dream, either..." I said, unable to reconcile the idea of him taking advantage of me in a situation like that with the tender way he was taking care of me now. "Why?" I asked, failing to come up with the degree of outrage that seemed called for. "Couldn't you resist the opportunity?"
Damon raised his eyebrows at this. "Pulling you badly bruised and only semi-conscious out of a car wreck is not exactly my idea of an opportunity! As I said, I was trying to undo the damage that was already done – or at to least prevent it from getting worse. He used his fangs. They are... well, you could say they're venomous to humans. I merely tried to cleanse your blood."
"Cleanse it?" I echoed, mystified.
He sighed. "You didn't get a word of what I explained to you before, did you?" When I shook my head, Damon dutifully obliged and repeated what I had obviously missed: "The guy who attacked you... he bit you and injected his venom. It's what carries the virus that turns people into a vampires. If I had left it to spread through your body, your human life would have been over. I tried to suck out the tainted blood – or at least make sure you're not going to die."
I looked at him in shock. "You mean I might turn into a vampire? Is that what he tried to do to me?"
"No. He tried to kill you – in a very ugly way, I might add. But you're not in danger anymore. You are not hurting enough."
"You've no idea!"
"Believe me, I do. Since you're still arguing with me like that, it can't be that bad. You wouldn't be talking coherently, otherwise."
"But why, Damon? Why would he do that? I don't even know who he was. I saw the truck... It had been following me out of Mystic Falls. Then he passed me some time after that intersection. And after I had hit him, I saw his truck – parked it in a side lane, hidden from view. Why was he standing in the middle of the road like that? I can still hear that awful noise when I hit him... " Remembering what had happened a couple of hours before, I started to tremble and felt my eyes swell with tears again.
"Hush, it's alright," Damon soothed, patting my hand. "There's nothing you could have done – he was a vampire, and he wanted you to hit him. It was a trap. We'll find out about the 'why'. But for now, stop thinking about it. You're safe. Okay?" I nodded and wiped my tears.
"Now, let me get the food and the pain killers. I'll be right back. Just don't go anywhere!"
"Very funny!"
He grinned and descended the stairs. Figuring that I had some privacy for a minute, I tried to get up and make it to the bathroom, which I figured the other bedroom door was leading to. It was no simple task, for my chest was hurting like hell and my legs felt like jell-o. Finally, I managed to make it forth and back and climbed back under the covers, hoping they would warm me up again. Aside from feeling exhausted just from the short trip to the loo, I was still feeling incredibly cold.
Within no time, Damon was back, carrying a tray with juice, a can of water and a stack of chocolate muffins. "Here, I hope you like it. It's not exactly a healthy breakfast, but I figured you could use the sugar. But take the pills, first."
There were three different ones on the tray. "What are they all for?" I asked a little suspiciously.
"My, aren't you a distrustful little thing..." Damon murmured, shaking his head in disbelief. "Don't worry, I'm not trying to drug you. They're just painkillers, some vitamins and an iron supplement."
Oh. "Thanks. I'm surprised you have anything in your fridge apart from blood bags."
"I have a housekeeper who keeps me stocked. I do have guests, every once in a while."
Human guests, obviously, if they had muffins for breakfast. Unsuspecting women he fed on, like Caroline. I wondered if he gave them painkillers, vitamins and iron supplements with their muffins, too. Probably so, since he obviously didn't need any of it himself. I decided not to delve into the subject and obediently swallowed the pills before starting on the pastry.
The analgesic must have been a little stronger that ordinary aspirin, because the pain I felt in my entire body started to dull only shortly after I had finished the first muffin. "You said he tried to kill me by biting me..." I resumed conversation, gingerly picking at the second muffin. Hopefully, Damon wouldn't expect me to finish it. "Yet you bite humans all the time – without killing them or turning them into vampires..."
"That's because I don't inject them with venom, which is what he did. Once it passes into your system, it destroys the blood cells. It simply inflates them until they burst into small fragments. If that happens with all the blood still in your veins, they burst from the pressure, at least the smaller blood vessels. You suffer major internal bleeding. And I guess he did it to assure you wouldn't live long enough to talk about it."
"So if you hadn't been there..."
"Let's say, they wouldn't have been sure whether you died form the crash or from some strange infection when they found you."
"But why did you feed me your blood, if not to make me a vampire?"
"Our blood, if applied to wounds from the outside or if ingested, stops any kind of bleeding. It clots a lot faster than human blood – that's why our wounds heal so quickly. It also gives humans a kick of energy, more efficiently than grape sugar, adrenalin or anything. I was afraid you'd completely pass out on me – I couldn't feel your pulse anymore. I was afraid I had taken too much of your blood."
"Then why did you take so much?"
"I needed to ensure that I got all the venom out of your system. Or, in case that I hadn't, to make sure that you had only little blood left when going into transition. Normally, when creating a vampire, you'd do it the other way round: Deplete the person of most of her blood, inject the venom, then feed her vampire blood to complete the change and help her live through it. I told you, it's complicated. And it more often than not goes wrong."
I abandoned the muffin and had another glass of water, understanding now why he wanted me to drink so much. The pills were effectively working their miracle. I was starting to feel drowsy again. "So you were making sure that – in case I wouldn't recover – I'd be changed?" I asked, realizing that yawning was not effectively conveying my outrage. "How can you think that I'd sooner live as a vampire than die?"
"There was no time to ask. And yes – I think living is much more preferable to dying; I quite enjoy it myself, actually. In case you objected, there was always the option of driving a stake through your heart later."
"I wonder why you even bothered, turning me from prey to hunter," I mumbled. "I thought it's my blood you're after..."
He gave me this look again, his eyes mesmerizing. "Well, surely not alone your blood, which, as I know now, is delicious! Just as I had imagined... rich, sweet and fragrant. It's going to make me lust for it even more from now on..."
"You're trying to scare me again."
Damon wasn't fazed by my reproachful voice and stern gaze. "You don't seem scared."
"Didn't say I was. I said you are trying to make me!"
"Well, maybe I am, but only half-heartedly. That's because I'm a profoundly egoistic person. If I really tried to scare you, you'd be terrified, and it'd be only for your own good."
I looked at him and blinked. My eyelids were getting really heavy. "Alys tried to warn me away from you," I confided. Damon lowered his voice, too. "Then why didn't you listen?" he asked softly.
I sighed. "Because there are these moments... like now... when I don't think anymore about what you want from me. When it doesn't even seem to matter. Moments, when I feel safe with you..."
"Now, that..." His voice trailed off. "Blood loss does have an effect on the brain. It'll pass." I wasn't sure I wanted it to pass. It was nice feeling safe, taken care of and protected, especially if a very handsome and sexy vampire was evoking these feelings.
"There..." Damon pulled the blanket higher. "You need to rest. You're starting to talk gibberish again."
Maybe I was. I was definitely feeling light-headed, and now that it was slightly warmer with all those blankets, I was truly getting tired. Obediently, I sank back into the cushions. They smelled nice. Like him. I breathed in the scent and sighed. My eyes closed almost on their own accord.
"Sleep well, Elena," I heard him murmur, and that was about the last thing that registered with me.
A/N: So, there she is - all alone with Damon and far away from home. Will she insist to go back - or can Damon persuade her to take a time out? You can guess! ;)
Please keep in mind the slight variation in 'how to make a vampire'. In my story, it's more like in Twilight: It's a virus that causes vampirism, and it has to be injected deliberately. So humans obviously don't die when becoming a vampire, they just change. I always had a problem to understand how TVD vampires can still have a blood circulation without a beating heart - while ripping out the seemingly superfluous 'dead' organ causes them to die. Seems like a logical blunder too me...