Hi, hi! Back again for some more NASCAR action!

Thank you so much for your reviews last chapter - I am forever amazed at how many of you take the time to leave feedback. Lots to get to so - shall we? For you non-NASCAR fans, the "No. 88" is Dale Earnhardt, Jr. He's involved below.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Vampire Diaries.

"Come on, Damon," Elena muttered.

Her knee shook nervously as she watched Damon tick off one lap after another. She was perched atop Damon's pit box, having spent most of the race at Jeff's until his day ended with a crash, furthering his team's string of bad luck. Their other driver was in the Top 10, but it was Damon who was dueling with the No. 88 for the lead. The two cars were racing harder and harder as the laps dwindled away, trading first and second place practically every lap. Giuseppe was perched next to her, muttering encouragements as well, his eyes peeled on his son's car. She picked up the headset in the pit box to listen to the chatter between Damon and his crew.

"How are we on fuel?" came Damon's voice.

"It's going to be close," Mason replied. "Real close. I think we can make it to the end, but a late caution would be a saving grace."

As if on cue, a lapped car spun, sending cars swerving all over the track to avoid it.

"Stay high! Stay high!" Ric shouted into the headset from his vantage point above the track. "Lots of smoke around the next turn! Keep it high and you'll stay clear." Damon didn't reply, but Elena watched as he navigated the track according to Ric's directions. "Nice driving, Salvatore."

"Is pit road open?" Damon asked.

"Not this lap, should open next," Mason said. "Fuel only. Watch your speed coming down pit road. A penalty will take us out of position to win."

"Just get me in and out," Damon responded.

"Pit road is open. Come in next time around," Mason ordered. From her vantage point on top of the box, Elena watched as Damon's crew got into position below her. Stefan appeared, climbing the box to join her and Giuseppe. It was a tight fit with the three of them, but Elena found she wasn't surprised to see him.

"He's got this," Stefan said. "He was damn close on fuel, but this caution will save him."

"We're going to re-start with two laps left," Giuseppe said. Elena could feel his anxiousness. "It's going to be shootout." Elena felt goose bumps pepper her arms, even if the Texas night air was warm, the asphalt around her still warmer. Race fans couldn't ask for a better finish. Two laps of one of the most popular drivers in NASCAR and Damon, the former bad boy in the midst of what was shaping up to be a comeback season, duking it out for the win. Elena had been present for a number of Damon's wins over the years, but she didn't think there was a race she wanted him to win as badly as this one.

"It's all him and the 88," Stefan said. "No one else in the field can hang with them, haven't been able to all day."

It was then that Damon coasted to a stop in his pit stall. Like a well-oiled machine, his crewmembers leapt over the wall. Everyone had a part to play, a role to get Damon back on the track in good position. Almost as quickly as they entered the pit stall, they were exiting it and Damon, spinning wheels, was leaving in a cloud of smoke. Giuseppe stood to get a better view of his position when he returned to the track.

"88 beat him by a hair," he reported. "They will be 1-2 when the green flag drops." Elena put the headset back on to listen.

"Leave it all on the track," Ric was saying. "Don't hold back. Open it up and race the wheels off it, you got it?"

"Got it," Damon said. There was gritty determination in his voice. "Whose in the three spot?"

"Biffle," Ric answered. "His car can't compete. He will be racing the 20 for third. It's all you and Junior."

"Beat him," Mason added. There was no love lost between Mason and the 88 team. "Cross that line first."

"If I don't, it won't be for lack of trying," Damon promised.

"Get ready for the restart," Ric advised. "It's single file, so no lapped traffic to worry about."

"Be quick on the jump," Mason said. "Try and slingshot around him, then hold him off."

"All right," Damon agreed. "You two shut up and let me drive." The radio went silent. A slight grin cracked across Elena's face. Damon had always been that way, not wanting a lot of chatter in his ear when the stakes were high on the track. He preferred to race on his own, let his instincts take over. And, as Elena had recently pointed out, his instincts were good.

"Here we go," Stefan said anxiously. He stood up beside Giuseppe and Elena joined them, headset still on. She crossed her arms over her chest as the cars turned down the straightway, the green flag waving.

As soon as the nose of Damon's Chevy was over the start-finish line, he went into action, mashing down on the gas and shifting gears. He made it look easy, maneuvering around the 88 on the outside as though the green car was sitting still. Giuseppe let out a whoop as he watched.

It was down and dirty. For the next two laps of the race, the 88 did everything he could to get around Damon. He tried to pass on the inside, and Damon maneuvered down the track to block him. The 88 was better in the turns, edging up almost side by side several times, but each time, Damon was able to breakaway down the straightaways, giving him some room.

They rounded the last turn, side-by-side, so close it was impossible to tell who was in the lead. They bumped, trading paint. The bobble was just enough to send the 88 back a half-car length, giving Damon the chance to pull ahead.

"You've got it!" Ric hollered. "Pedal down, baby!"

The crowd was going wild as the 88 made a last attempt to pass Damon.

"Go, go, go, go, go," Elena muttered, hugging herself as she bounced on her tiptoes slightly, the checker flag waving ahead of Damon.

To deafening roars, he crossed the finish line no more than a front end ahead of the 88. The pit stall erupted in celebration, crewmembers hugging and high fiving one another

"Yes!" Elena yelled, jumping up and down. She turned and hugged Stefan who was cheering loudly. Giuseppe was waving his fists in victory.

"That's my boy!" he was yelling.

On the headset, Damon was whooping, Ric and Mason talking over one another as they congratulated him. He came around the track again, bringing his car to stop long enough to take an American flag offered to him. He mashed down on the gas and took off in a display of spinning tires and smoke, his destination clear. Once in the infield, he opened up on the gas, turning donut after donut, the flag flying.

Elena smiled broadly as she made her way down the pit box's ladder and went with the swelling crowd towards Victory Lane. Damon needed this. He needed a win. He needed to prove to himself that he was good enough to compete. The fact that it was a hard fought win was icing on the cake.

"Elena!" called a voice. She turned to see Ginny making her way towards her. She had Molly by the hand. "I snagged this one from Samantha. I thought she might want to celebrate."

"Day-mun won, Mama!" Molly squealed excitedly. "I see'd it from Manfa's bus!" She broke away from her grandmother and launched herself at Elena who caught her and lifted her up.

"He did!" she said, almost as excited as Molly. "You want to come with me to Victory Lane? Help him celebrate?"

"Please, oh please!" Molly exclaimed. "Gigi say that's where we goin'!" Elena laughed.

"That's where we're going," she confirmed. She gave Molly a little hug. The course of antibiotics had worked and by Friday afternoon, Molly had been back to usual self.

She walked into Victory Lane where the trophy was waiting, gleaming under the Texas lights. The crowd parted, and Damon's racecar came into view. He rolled into Victory Lane and came to a stop. Ric and Enzo were there to help him with the window net and racing harness, Mason and the rest of his team looking on. Elena was aware of the Salvatores lined up beside her. Even Caroline had made her way down and was standing hand-in-hand with Stefan, a small smile playing on her lips, her hand folded over her barely there baby bump.

"Watch this," Elena whispered to Molly as Damon took his helmet off inside the car. His arms came through the window and he hauled himself out of the car in one smooth, well-practiced move. He stood on the lip of his window and let out another whoop, pumping both fists in the air in celebration. All at once, confetti was flying and Damon was being showered with sports drinks and champagne. Molly laughed.

"He's all wet!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands out of excitement. With another whoop, Damon jumped down from the car into a sea of pats on the backs and congratulations. Someone passed Damon his team hat and a sports drink that sponsored him. He chugged several swigs, near dehydration from hours spent in the cockpit of his car. A reporter shoved a microphone in face, needing an interview with the winner for the race broadcast. Elena inched forward to do her job, Molly still in her arms.

"It was a hard fought race," Damon was saying. "The 88 team didn't make it easy, but this Ragged Mountain team wanted the win and we got it. It was a good day for Salvatore Motorsports."

"How does it feel to be back in Victory Lane after all this time?" the reporter asked.

"Damn good," Damon said with a hint of his signature smirk. "Really, really good." He spied Elena then. He gave the reporter a pat on the shoulder and expertly turned him towards his father who was waiting for his inevitable turn with the reporter.

"Day-mun, you win'd!" Molly exclaimed, holding her arms out to him as he approached.

"Yeah, I did!" Damon replied, taking her into his arms and hugging her tight. Elena was aware of the cameras around them, but she didn't care. Now that Damon knew about Molly, it wasn't exactly a kept secret that Damon had a daughter. There was plenty of speculation, but as far as Elena was concerned, it wasn't anyone else's business. She was simply glad she had purposefully dressed Molly in Damon's team colors.

"Congratulations," Elena said. Damon beamed at her.

"Thanks, 'Lena," he said. Before Elena could stop herself, she had her arms around him. Damon didn't hesitate to put his free arm around her and pull her to him.

In that instance, she was transported to four years ago. The sounds, the smell of Damon's fire suit, the feeling of being pulled against him – it took her back to a time when things were a lot simpler. The only thing that was different between this moment and back then was the fact that Molly was between them. And Molly's presence just made it better. Too soon, Damon was letting her go, reminding her it wasn't just Molly's presence that was different now.

"Duty calls," he muttered. He kissed Molly's cheek. "I've got to go talk to the press right now, but I'll find you in a little bit, okay?" he asked. Molly nodded and allowed Elena to take her. With another smile for the pair of them, he turned and headed off to the waiting throng of reporters.

"I'll take the little one," Ginny said, appearing at her side. "I know you need to control the press."

"Thank you," Elena said. Molly was already reaching for her Gigi, always eager to be with her grandmother where the treats flowed and rules were far and few between. Gigi smiled at Elena.

"He did it," she said. Elena returned her smile before looking in Damon's direction. His back was to her as he animatedly talked to the press.

"Yeah," she agreed. "He did."

One of the best parts about racing on Saturday nights was the fact that they got home on Sunday mornings. Still high on his win, Damon had asked Elena if he could take Molly to the park in the afternoon, promising to have her home in time for dinner. Living up to his end of the deal, he carried a tired and happy, albeit rather dirty, Molly up the sidewalk. He didn't bother with the doorbell this time. Instead, he opened the door and called out.

"Elena?"

"Kitchen!" she called back. Damon shut the door behind him.

"Your mom is going to kill me for letting you get so filthy," he muttered to Molly. She giggled, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Hi," Elena greeted as they entered the kitchen. "How was the park?" Her eyes fell on Molly. "You brought Pig Pen home instead of Molly." Molly giggled again.

"We had a little bit of fun," Damon admitted. Elena just smiled. The dirt would wash away from both Molly's skin and her outfit. "Should she go straight to the bathtub?" Elena shook her head.

"I just pulled a lasagna out of the oven. Sit her down at the kitchen table. She'll get even messier trying to eat this." Damon did as directed, depositing Molly in the chair she always sat in. He could tell it was hers by the princess placemat. "Want to stay for dinner?" Elena asked. "I mean, there's plenty of lasagna and my guess is that you plan to pick up junk food and call it dinner after you leave here." Damon grinned sheepishly at being caught.

"I'd love to stay," he said. "If that's okay." Elena rolled her eyes playfully.

"I did offer," she said. "Help me finish setting the table? Plates and utensils are where they have always been." Damon nodded. He found he knew his way around Elena's kitchen as well now as he had a few years ago. She had kept everything in virtually the same place it was when she was growing up.

Sitting down to dinner, both Damon and Elena's minds went to the 'what if' scenario. What if Damon had known about Molly from the beginning? What if Damon had stayed? Would this be their norm? Dinner together as a little family, celebrating a successful weekend at the track?

The pair exchanged small talk, but let Molly guide the conversation. They were both aware of the other, could feel the tension between them. They both knew they had to address the numerous elephants in the room, but neither of them knew how or when. They saw each other nearly every day, and Damon seemed to always find an excuse to turn up at her house or office, the excuse usually being Molly. While Damon was paralyzed, unsure what to do next for freat or doing the wrong thing and getting in even deeper than he already was, Elena was torn right down the middle. Part of her was falling fast for Damon, all over again. The other part of her was still angry and hurt and those wounds ran deep.

Once dinner was over, Molly went to her room to play, yet Damon still stuck around, under the guise of helping Elena clean up. Except almost immediately, he had ordered her to take a seat at the island and let him handle the dishes. He simply didn't want to go home to his empty apartment. Not yet, after a weekend of being with Molly and, subsequently, Elena, even if most of it had been spent at the track.

"You don't have to do the dishes," Elena said. "It won't take me long to load them into the dishwasher."

"You cooked, the least I can do is clean," Damon said, rinsing dishes and putting them in the dishwasher.

"I appreciate it, but you really don't have to…"

"'Lena, it's done," Damon said with finality. Elena sighed, but let it drop, watching him work.

"I'm guessing it felt pretty good to win last night," she ventured. Damon glanced at her over his shoulder, a small smile on his lips.

"It felt so good," he admitted. "It felt like old times, at least for a little while." Elena wasn't the only one that had been transported to another time when Elena had hugged him in Victory Lane.

"A win means you're in The Chase," Elena pointed out. Damon shrugged as he rinsed a plate and loaded it into a dishwasher.

"It means I've got a good chance to being one of the 16 driver in The Chase at the end," he said. "If it's the only time I win this year, and 16 other drivers win two each…" Elena snorted back a laugh.

"That is literally the dumbest thing that has ever come out of your mouth," she stated. "Do the math, Damon. There aren't enough races on the schedule for that to happen, for one thing. There are 27 races before the 10 race chase starts. There also aren't 16 other drivers that are good enough to win twice. A handful will win more than once, but you are just being ridiculous right now. You won at Texas. You have the ability to win more than once this season. You will be in the chase. How long you stay in the chase is on you."

"Just seems too good to be true," Damon confessed as he worked. "Before the season started, when we were sitting around setting team goals and all that crap, I said I wanted to make The Chase. No one in the room, not my dad, my team, no one, thought that was realistic. They outright said it wasn't, said I should focus on getting a handful of Top 10s this season instead. Seven races in, I locked in my spot. It just doesn't seem real."

"Well, it is," Elena said. "You won. You are in The Chase. And, when The Chase starts in October, you have just as much of chance to win it as the 15 other drivers who make it in. Don't doubt yourself so much, Damon. You can do this."

Damon blew out a breath. He didn't say anything right away, focusing on putting the last of the dishes in the dishwasher. He added detergent, closed the machine, and turned it on. He wiped down the counters and the kitchen table, aware of Elena's eyes on him, even though she didn't say anything more. Finally, with nothing left to distract himself, he dried his hands and turned to Elena.

"Why do you believe in me?" he asked. "What is it about me that makes you have so much faith in me as a racecar driver?" Elena looked at him, somewhat surprised by his question.

"You are a good driver, Damon. Better than good. You always have been. You know that. You had a rough go of things for a while, but you're turning it around. You can win, just like the next guy. You can compete for the championship, just like anyone else. You just doubt yourself too much. You get in your own way." Damon nodded in understanding.

"Then why don't you believe in me as a person?" he asked bluntly. He watched as Elena's eyes widened in surprise. "You believe in me as a racecar driver, but not as a guy you can trust to be a father to our daughter. Why not?" He knew why, but he wanted to hear her say it.

"I trust you," she said. She wasn't convincing, even to her own ears. "I let you take Molly…" Damon shook his head.

"You let me take her to the park for a couple of hours," he said. "You let me take her to Waffle House on her birthday. Sometimes, you let her hang out with me during a Nationwide race. But you don't trust me enough to tell Molly that I'm her father and I want to know why."

"I have to protect her…"

"Protect her from what?" Damon demanded, his voice rising. "A guy who adores her and only wants to be her dad? Sounds real dangerous."

"Keep your voice down," Elena hissed. Damon glared at her, but lowered his voice. He didn't want Molly to hear them fight. He also didn't want her to find out he was her father by overhearing.

"I have no legal rights to my daughter," he reminded Elena. "None, whatsoever. You could pick up and move tomorrow and there wouldn't be a damn thing I could do about it. You have full custody of her. She has your last name. I'm just Damon, the guy who plays with her."

"She has my last name because you weren't there to sign the birth certificate!" Elena informed him. "I wanted her to have the 'Salvatore' name, but the laws in California require that the father be present to sign the birth certificate or that paternity be proven. You weren't there, Damon. There was nothing I could do."

"You can't keep throwing the fact that I wasn't around in my face," Damon said. "That's not how this works, Elena. I wasn't there because no one told me…" Fire flew into Elena.

"I could have handled things better, I will admit that. But dammit, Damon! We tried to tell you. You know that! You want to know why I don't trust you?"

"It would be nice," Damon stated, his arms crossed over his chest. "I've been walking a freaking tightrope. I haven't been out partying. I haven't been drinking. I haven't taken anything that wasn't a Tylenol. I went out with the Mikaelsons while we were in Vegas and I was back in my hotel room by ten. I'm doing all the right things. So yes, it would be nice to know why you don't trust me." He was pushing her. He knew it. But now that things had boiled over, he couldn't stop himself.

"You left!" Elena erupted, her voice hushed but angry. "You were literally here one day and gone the next! I woke up that morning, rolled over in bed, reached for you, and my hand fell on empty sheets. You didn't even leave a note! You have no idea how much that hurt. No idea, whatsoever!" Her eyes were sparkling with tears now.

"You have no idea how hard it was for me to be pregnant without you. You have no idea how much it hurt every single time you didn't answer the phone. You have no idea how hard it was for me to give birth to Molly and watch her lying in that incubator in the NICU. You have no idea how hard it has been, raising her as a single mother. It's your own damn fault you weren't there!" Damon opened his mouth to argue, but Elena too couldn't stop now that the dam had burst.

"No, I'm talking," she snapped. "You didn't just leave me. You turned your back on your family. Your family, Damon! Those people love you more than anything else in the entire world and you turned your back on them. You have spent the better part of the last four years partying too much, drinking too much, doing God knows what drugs, and sleeping with God knows how many women. When you weren't doing that, you were wasting your talent on the racetrack, too hungover to drive, and picking fights in the garage.

"Now, you are still barely speaking to your family. I know they aren't innocent either. None of us are. But they make an effort. You don't. You take two steps forward and five steps backwards. Your mom hugged you after your win last night and you practically shoved her off of you! Just because you have been on your best behavior and playing "dad" for the last two months doesn't make the last four years go away. So no, I don't trust you. I don't trust you to still be here in two months. I don't trust you to not take off again the first time your dad makes a decision you don't agree with." She paused and swallowed hard as she wiped away a stray tear she had tried to hold back.

"I don't trust you not to break Molly's heart." Or mine, she added to herself.

Silence fell between them. The fight had left Damon as Elena listed off his many failures in recent years. Once again, he found himself swinging from anger to guilt.

"Elena…," he started. He paused. He had no idea what to say. Nothing she had said was untrue. He sighed. He owed her an explanation, an apology. "Elena, I…" Her phone rang. She glanced at him, then looked at her phone. She frowned, a sinking feeling suddenly settling into her gut.

"I have to take this," she said. "It's a South Carolina number. It might be my parents."

"Fine," Damon relented, leaning against the counter. They both needed a moment to catch their breath, cool off. Elena slipped off the stool and moved towards the entry hall.

"Hello?" she said into the phone. "Um, yes. This is she…" Her voice disappeared. Damon blew out another breath and ran a hand roughly over his face. He hadn't intended to have this conversation tonight. He had only wanted to spend more time with Molly and, admittedly, Elena.

Buying himself some more time, he wandered upstairs to check on Molly. He found her playing with her Samantha doll, a few plastic horses, and the barn he had given her for her birthday. He didn't interrupt her, just stood in the shadows of her doorframe and watched her for a few minutes as she happily made up a game, talking to herself as she went. He smiled slightly, his heart full of love.

He heard Elena moving around downstairs and figured that meant she was off the phone. Giving himself a pep talk, he turned and padded back down the stairs undetected by Molly, thinking over how he would begin to explain why he left to Elena and then try to figure out how to get her to forgive him, start trusting him again. He rounded the corner of the kitchen and opened his mouth to start his speech, when his eyes fell on Elena.

She was leaning against the counter facing him, her arms crossed over her chest, tears pouring down her face. Her mascara was running and even as she hugged herself tightly, he could see her trembling. He frowned as she let out a quiet sob, a hand going to her mouth. Something was wrong.

"Elena?" he questioned, crossing the kitchen to her. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Damon…," she sputtered. She wiped at the tears that fell to no avail. They were coming down hard and fast.

"Elena, what's wrong?" he asked again, stepping closer to her, panic rising. "Tell me what happened." She looked up at him through her tears and took as steadying of a deep breath as she could manage.

"That was the Beaufort police department," she said. "My parents are dead."

Heck of a 24 hours for Damon and Elena, huh? Winning races, arguments, parents... Really sorry about that cliffhanger as well. :)

Please let me know what you think!

(Some of the "things" you all have been waiting for are coming soon - maybe even next chapter!)