Chapter 34: The Real Story

Elena

She was overwhelmed with sensations. He was tracing every part of her body with kisses and feather light touches. He lit small fires all over her skin that slowly got bigger, wilder and soon they united to make a fire so big that it could have burned down whole forests to the ground in its hunger to devour. He was the only one who could satisfy it, the only one able to put it out.

Before him, she was numb, asleep and with him she was sensitive to the slightest touch, the smallest kiss. With him, she felt more alive than ever.

She was glad that he stopped for a moment, giving her time to breathe as he hovered above her, emotions running through his eyes too fast for her to register. If she thought she could read him before, now he was giving her a direct line to his innermost thoughts and emotions. One of those was complete adoration.

Now she felt a very different kind of burn inside her chest. As opposed to the sizzling hot, all-consuming fire, this was a more stable flame that warmed her from the inside out and made her realize something that terrified her.

As she watched him watching her, his hair messier than ever, cheeks tinted red and eyes shining with emotion, she realized that what she felt for this man, with all his flaws and all his secrets was far deeper than she had ever experienced and way too significant to be anything less than love.

Even though, she had never felt that way about anyone else before. Even though, she had never let herself experience anything remotely close and in theory, she should not know how it felt to really love someone like that, she knew beyond any doubt that this was it.

She loved him.

She was in love with him.

The moment stretched long and the words were on the tip of her tongue. She had been feeling like this for a while now but she did not let herself acknowledge it before this moment.

This changed things drastically. This turned their moving-slowly-and-testing-the-waters relationship into a full-fledged jumping-head-first-and-sinking-or-swimming kind of thing. But this was how she always was when it came to him. Her emotions pushed her to move way faster than they could handle and maybe this was one of those times, where she had to step on the breaks and shift gears before she drove them off the road and into a tree or something worse.

She let the desire take over her thoughts again, biting her lip to keep from saying anything. She dared him, with her eyes, to do it.

His eyes darkened but when he stayed unmoving, staring at her with a look she could not explain, she got impatient. "Do it," she whispered. "Please, Damon. I want you to."

That surely did the trick. He dove right in, uniting them in one swift thrust.

Matching, silent moans forced themselves out into the night and after an initial moment of stillness, they started their dance of bodies and souls, the one dance that made all the others seem like cheap imitations.

Their eyes were only on each other, every move, every electrifying sensation, every emotion, they shared. They were connected in every aspect of the word, mind, body and soul.

They were not just two people making love anymore. All those months of pent up tension and ignored desire put together with their intense feelings for each other turned what could have been pretty great into something mind-bogglingly magnificent.

At some point, their pace changed, got faster, harder, even more intense if that was even possible. He took her hand and pinned it next to her head. Their fingers entwined, they held onto each other so hard that it almost hurt. She welcomed the pressure from his hand in hers, the weight of him on top of her. Without those she would surely sore too high to be able to come back down.

She felt weightless like a balloon soaring higher and higher but she knew there was a point when she would fall and there was no way that she could brace herself for it.

When it happened, it hit her when she was not expecting it and she could only try to hold on as she fell and fell and fell…

It was the sweetest, most powerful fall that she could ever imagine.

She came back to herself and realized that he had made that journey right along with her. Resting assured that she was still whole, back in her body and in safe hands she surrendered herself to absolute bliss.

Damon

It was the best sleep he had gotten in a long time. Last night, he got to taste a piece of heaven with her in his arms. After that first taste of her, he had to have her again and again. He was insatiable, they both were but after a long night of indulging, they fell asleep, still entangled, completely spent and dare he say it, happier than ever.

He woke up once during the night, making sure she was still there, that last night was not just a cruel dream. When he found her attached to his side, he held her even closer in a surge of possessiveness before he went back to sleep.

He was in that state between sleep and wakefulness when he recognized the vines of desire slithering their way up his limbs, pulling him back to consciousness.

The sight that met his eyes, when he opened them, blew his mind away. His beautiful girl, wearing nothing but his shirt, was dropping searing kisses onto his chest, her eyes twinkling with lust and mischief in one delicious package as she assessed his reaction to her ministrations.

"Hmm, a guy could get used to a wakeup call like that."

She replied with a giggle followed by a dozen more kisses. She moved her attention dangerously low and he had an urge to grab her and start kissing every inch of her all over again until she screamed his name. But he restrained himself and let her have her fun. He would get her sooner or later anyway.

He was shocked back to attention when he felt her lips on his aching desire. Her small kisses were enough to rile him up but not very sufficient to help him towards any release. He wanted to urge her on but he refused to show that kind of weakness and he had no idea if she was torturing him on purpose.

He cast a look down and indeed, she knew fully well what she was doing. She wanted him to beg.

"If you don't stop torturing me, so help me God, I will make you pay," he got out between clenched teeth.

An involuntary groan slipped out of his lips when she finally put him out of his misery. She wrapped her lips around him and used them and her hand skillfully to deliver that perfect combination of pressure and friction. He forced his eyes open to watch this perfect creature, this angel of mercy performing such a sinful act and excelling at it.

That was when his patience ran out, he reached down to grab her arms and in one swift maneuver, she was lying on her back, gorgeous and confused. He kissed her for the first time this morning taking his time to really enjoy it before he started moving down to her chest. He intended to bid "Good morning" to every inch of her starting with her perfect breasts.

The sounds she made played like music to his ears and when the time came, he started his solo wrenching a sharp intake of breath from her as he got his first taste of her. He took his time, fine tuning, switching between rhythms and reaping the fruits of his labor. She writhed under his touch when he shot her off into the universe. He put a hand on her silky stomach, holding her in place, allowing her to come back to earth only to force her up again.

The little vixen deserved some torture.

When she started begging, he could not hold off anymore, he hooked her one leg over his arm, pressed his lips to hers and plunged into the abyss.

It took all his strength to keep from tripping over the cliff like a damn teenager. But the years of training paid off and he was able to control himself. He started moving, excruciatingly slowly to stretch the moment.

"Please, please… " She panted.

He felt himself accelerating involuntarily, until he was driving in as hard as possible. She arched her back and closed her eyes in complete ecstasy and the sight of her unrestrained pleasure catapulted him into his own euphoria.

When he reached sweet, heavenly release, he only had one word on his mind and on his lips.

"Elena…"

Xxx

She was staring at him. He could feel it even with his eyes closed. She was tracing her fingers lightly over his upper body and he was basking in the attention.

When he opened his eyes, he caught her looking but she did not divert her gaze.

"You're staring."

"You're beautiful."

"I'm certainly good looking in a very manly way but definitely not beautiful," he said.

"Shut up," she smiled and shut him up with a sweet kiss before she went right back to staring.

He snickered as he snuck his hand under the covers and started tickling her. She squealed and started laughing uncontrollably as she tried to wiggle out of his reach. He had a good hold on her, though and he only stopped the tickling when he had her locked in his arms with her back to him.

"That's not fair. You cheated," she said, trying to squirm out of his hold but then he started tracing kisses on her shoulder and she melted in his arms.

"Can I ask you something?" Her tone was free of the playfulness from a moment before.

"Sure," he replied with mild apprehension.

She turned around to face him and when she placed her palm on the side of his torso, he knew where she was headed. She stroked the imperfect skin that represented some of his most shameful memories, reminding him that this moment, they were sharing, was not going to last. Soon, the real world would break through the thin walls of their little bubble and they would find themselves subjected to its curveballs.

She traced the four parallel lines and brought her eyes back to his before she asked. "What are these?"

"They're nothing," he said, turning to lie on his back and staring at the ceiling but she held his cheek and turned his face back towards her.

Her eyes were open and free of judgment. They were urging him to be honest, not to withhold anything from her. He just could not utter the words. What he had let Katherine do to him because of his guilt was fifty shades of fucking demeaning and degrading, not movie material at all and most of all, he wanted to forget that he had ever been that stupid. Still, he wanted to maintain that newfound honesty between them.

"It happened a long time ago…" He halted, trying to find the right words. "Katherine went through… a phase during her pregnancy, where she would… sometimes… go too far." He heard a soft gasp but he could not look at her to see her reaction, see her pity. He was not exactly innocent in this. "I let her do it because I felt guilty."

She was quiet, long enough for him to start questioning his decision to tell her. This was so much worse than all the other shit he had done in his life and he could not blame her if she changed her mind about him because of it.

"I don't know what to say," she said.

Now that he had started; he might as well tell her everything. "Don't say anything. My relationship with her was toxic but I had as much of a part in it as she did. One day we had a fight and I pushed her. She hit her head pretty bad, got a concussion and when I took her to the hospital, I found out that she was pregnant. After that, I tried to atone for my actions by letting her do whatever she liked. I let her go too far because of my guilt. So I was fully aware of what I was doing."

There it was. The ugly truth of his former relationship and also the truth about him; that he got angry and pushed his pregnant girlfriend so she hit her head and got a concussion. He deserved every bit of the pain she inflicted on him, if not more.

Nevertheless, he was stupid for being with her in the first place when she was fucking someone else on the side. He was stupid for not realizing, for trusting her.

He stopped that train of thought right there. He was starting to get angry, his blood was heating up and his head started visiting unwanted thoughts and consequently memories.

He threw the covers aside and got out of the bed.

"Where are you going?" She asked as he headed for the bathroom. "Getting a shower," he shot and closed the bathroom door behind him.

The hot water scorched his skin but had no effect on the rioting thoughts in his head. The weight of his memories landed on his shoulders, almost bringing him to his knees under the spray of the water.

Xxx

One year and six months ago…

After spending the whole night at the hospital, worried out of his mind, Damon felt like he could sleep for a week.

He reached their bedroom door and had his hand on the doorknob, about to turn it, when he heard it. His mind was spinning, trying to interpret what he had just heard with no avail. He had to see.

He turned the knob and opened the door to see exactly what his confused mind was trying to tell him, he would see.

She was in bed… naked… with the gardener, Mason Northwood.

He did not know how long he just stood there, staring at them. Her eyes were wide open as she held the sheets to her chest, covering herself from him. Fear was not an emotion, he had ever seen on her face before but that moment, she looked scared, scared of him?

He felt like he was watching a movie where he was aware of the magnitude of what was happening but had no real emotion attached to it.

The first word he uttered was directed at the gardener. "Leave," he said and the gardener gathered his clothes and scurried away.

He looked at her once again and she was still in the same position but this time, he noticed her shaking.

"Damon?"

The shaking was even more pronounced in her voice.

"Damon, I'm sorry but we haven't been together in months and I made a mistake. I'm so sorry."

"You already said that."

She was about to say more but his words stopped her.

"Get dressed," he said before he turned and walked out of the bedroom.

The walls were starting to close in on him and he had to get out of there, get away from her. He headed to the den, walking directly to the drinking cart and pouring himself a drink.

His weird calm from moments before was dissipating and the betrayal, the anger, were taking its place in his veins.

He drained the whole glass at once and tried to pour more but his hands were shaking and the whiskey sloshed to the sides, half of it ending on the carpet. He gave up and started drinking directly from the bottle.

"Damon," she said, nervously, which was so unlike her that he wondered if she was putting on a performance. She was so good at it, a professional liar, he almost laughed at his own gullibility.

He turned to see her standing in the doorway, haphazardly dressed and her hair disheveled. Now he was convinced. This seemingly pathetic, remorseful act only proved his theory true.

"Please, Damon. You have to forgive me," she pleaded.

He almost choked on the whiskey. He could not believe it. She was caught red handed, cheating on him in his own bed and she still had the nerve to make demands.

"I don't have to do anything. You made your choice and now it's my turn," his voice was cold, calm and free of any emotion, completely opposite to the raging storm in his head.

"What does that mean?" A sliver of fear could be detected in her voice.

Her perfectly tailored character was falling at the seams, revealing some of her true self to him. Katherine was never pathetic. She was conniving, manipulative… she was cheating.

Oh God!

He gave her everything… he gave her his entire life. He gave up on the whole world for her to live in this damned exile.

He took another swig of whiskey and pushed the thoughts away. He had to deal with her first before he could let himself go.

"Leave! Pack your bags and leave."

"What?"

He put his hand in his pocket, taking out his car keys. "Here, take my car," he said and flung the keys at her.

"What are you talking about? What about, Dan?" She said disbelievingly as she caught the keys.

"Well obviously, he'll stay with me."

"What? No. I can't leave my son."

"Oh please, you barely even see him, never mind taking care of him. Do you even have any idea what to do when he gets an attack? No? I thought so. I'll give you an hour."

She left. An hour later, he heard the engine of his car come to life. He did not look outside as he listened to the sound slowly fading away along with his control.

He just had one thing to do before he could let go. He found his phone and speed dialed Stefan.

"Hello."

"Stefan!"

He must have sounded horrible because suddenly his brother was on high alert. "What is it?!"

"I found them… in our bed… with the gardener… I made her leave. Dan is alone upstairs and I…," he stuttered choking on the last word.

"I'll be there. Just hang in there," he said and hung up.

He realized that somewhere during everything, he had misplaced the baby monitor. He had to check on Dan. His son was the only thing holding him together right now.

As he walked along the hallway to Dan's room, he passed their bedroom. He avoided looking inside as he kept walking on. Then he saw it, Dan's bedroom door was closed. He never closed that door.

"No!" He breathed and started running.

He flung the door open and his heart tumbled down five flights of stairs when he saw it.

The crib was empty.

She took him. She took his son. He cursed himself for his stupidity. He should have stayed with him until she left. He should have looked outside the window when he heard the car. But there was no time for hindsight. He had to do something.

He could still find them. She had his car. He could call the police and tell them it was stolen.

That was when his phone started ringing; Private number. He took the phone to his ear, his hand shaking uncontrollably and his stomach turned in dread.

"Damon Salvatore," he said.

"Mr. Salvatore, I'm afraid, I have some bad news…"

He did not hear more. The words accident and hospital were the only ones he registered. They echoed in his head a long time after he had hung up the phone…

Elena

Her morning started off like a dream. She could not contain the bubbling feelings she had for him as she stared at his sleeping form. She wanted to share those feelings with him but she was afraid to voice them so she went for the next best thing and tried to show it to him, physically.

It was amazing. Better than anything she could have imagined and so much more than that first night they had together so long ago. This time, they were together in both minds and bodies. It was like they were not even themselves back then and maybe they were not. They changed so much during those months, personally and as a couple.

When she remembered how shaky and weak she sometimes felt, when they first met, and how closed off and angry, he used to be, she could not believe how far they had come.

That night, she thought, she never had a chance of something real with him. She was blinded by all the rumors and the pictures of countless women. So she left before she could enjoy it too much, before she could get too attached. She left to protect herself.

Now it was entirely too late for that, she was already in too deep but she was not afraid anymore. Well, she did not feel threatened by any woman, she trusted him and she felt stronger, more confident, yet he still had all the means to hurt her.

The fact that she was in love with him only made her more vulnerable and this morning, she was completely fine with that. She was happy, more than she had ever been before.

But then she asked about the scars and everything went downhill from there. She had noticed them during their tryst, the night before and again this morning and she had been thinking about them since. They just looked too straight and kind of surgical to be acquired by accident.

She was right. They were the product of that depraved woman's fantasies. She could not even say her name. She had put him through hell and no matter what he had done, she had no reason to act so cold towards their son.

Something happened in his mind and she felt like their connection from before was severed. He suddenly closed her off once again. He did not even giver her time to act before he went to the bathroom and closed the door, thereby placing a physical barrier between them.

She spent the time while he was in the shower, getting dressed, she really needed a shower too but she was worried. She needed to see that everything was okay first. She paced the room, picked up her phone and sorted through her mail before the water stopped running. She held her breath as she stood, staring at the door, willing it to open.

One minute, two minutes passed in silence then a loud sound of something breaking, shattering pierced through the silence and set off a million alarms in her head.

She ran to the door and tried to knock but there was no answer so she warned him that she was entering before she opened the door. He was kneeling on the floor, wearing a towel around his waist. His hands were gripping his still wet hair but only when she looked closer, did she see that they were bloodied. Pieces of the mirror surrounded him on the floor, some of them covered in blood as well.

She tried to avoid the sharp pieces as she hurried to kneel in front of him to inspect the damage done to his hands. She drew a relieved breath when she realized that only the right one was wounded and although, it was scratched and some of the scratches were still bleeding, thankfully none of them were that deep.

She refrained from asking any questions until she had found some disinfectant and some gauze to clean the wounds and bandage them up.

When she started working on his hand she finally asked him. "What's wrong? What happened?" She tried to keep her voice calm but it was not an easy task when she felt so shaken inside.

Did she do this? Did she somehow trigger something with her question?

He had never looked at her. His head was still lowered, his shoulders were tense and his left hand was gripping a chunk of hair so hard that, she thought, he might pull it off at some point.

"Please, Damon. Let me in, let me help you." She said as she cleaned the wounds. He did not even flinch from the sting of the disinfectant.

"You can't," he got out in a strangled voice.

"Why not?"

"…Because no one can."

"What does that mean?"

He finally raised his head to look at her. His face was morphed by pain and his eyes were drowning in guilt.

"It means that I'm beyond saving, that I'm too far gone for anyone to be able to help me, even you." She shook her head in dispute but he kept going, undeterred. "It means that it's my fault. It's all, my fault." He wrenched his hand away from her and got up paying no mind to the sharp pieces of the mirror as he stepped away from her. "Would you want to help a murderer, Elena? Because that's what I am, a murderer."

"What the hell are you talking about?" She shouted, he was starting to scare her and her eyes started leaking.

"I KILLED MY SON!"

"I killed my son…"

AN: Thank you guys so very much for your feedback. It gives me so much, both motivation and inspiration and I love hearing all your amazing theories so please keep them coming.

This chapter started with sexy times and fluff and ended so damn dark but that's how it is with delena, isn't it? Short and scattered moments of happiness and countless moments of darkness and heartbreak but that's what makes them compelling. At least that's how it is for me ;P

I hope you enjoyed the chapter. If you did please tell me and if you didn't then tell me what you would have preferred. That would be so helpful.

Love,

Mydarkside975

Ps. I listened to The National while writing the last part. Their song slipped, in particular fit the tone and theme.