A/N: A little drabble just because I miss my ship. And Damon. I haven't really watched season 7, though I've kept up through reading summaries and such. I'm just not feeling it. That's why this lil thingy here is lacking details from the current timeframe of the show; if you're into that, please find another story as this is purely a drabble on Damon's loneliness and struggles.

I'll ship Delena 'til I die, that's all

In Loving Memory

He sometimes wonders if there's anything he could've done to change the future. If there was one moment where, if he hadn't acted the way he'd acted, the future could've been different. Or maybe it was a moment that he had acted wrongly, and thus set in motion the hell that was his life. Or maybe he hadn't acted at all in that moment, and maybe that's why things were the way they were…

His whiskey glass shatters in his hand; blood splatters on the expensive carpet. He doesn't care.

It happens all the time. By now, the dry-cleaner should be at the top of his phone-list.

Speaking of... he picks up his phone and wavers at the background. There she is. Elena Gilbert, love of his life, doppelganger extraordinaire, human turned vampire turned human turned into Sleeping Beauty.

He ignores the fact that his blurry vision is caused by his tears.

He searches through his contacts and finds the dry-cleaner. But instead, he flicks on and finds her name and presses it. The phone starts dialling, and he presses it into his ear, so tight he can feel it vibrate.

"Hello, this is Elena Gilbert. I can't take the phone right now, but please leav- Damon!" He hears his own voice murmur in the background and Elena's laughter. "I'm probably being locked up by my boyfriend, but if it's important, leave a message after the tone!"

He laughs and cries at the same time, clenching the phone in his hand. Thank god the house is empty for once. No heretics, no nagging Caroline, no inquisitive Bonnie, no alcoholic Alaric, no concerned Stefan.

Just him and his loneliness.

Him and memories of Elena.

Just a few more decades, he tells himself and then snorts. As if that helps.

Damon glances at his now-healed hand, which serves as just another reminder of how long he will live like this, perfectly preserved, waiting for her...

What a damn nuisance an eternity could be.

But then a thought enters his mind; the promise they made before she was so cruelly snatched away from him. He would drink her blood and take the cure...

"Become human and live a long life with me."

That's his only dream; his only hope – that one day she'll open her eyes again and they'll be human together. They'll live in an New York apartment at first, and when she finishes her studies and he finds out what the hell he's going to do with his life – not that he really cares as long as he's next to her – they'll move into a nice suburban house, with a white picket fence and a nice white porch - like the one at her previous house.

This one he won't let her burn down. No more insane humanity switches or dead brothers. Just a regular, normal life.

Would they have children? Of course they would. How could they not? They were always banging like bunnies, so at one point... He shakes his head. Not the smooth way to go about it, Salvatore...

But in all honesty, the thought of children both scares him and excites him. Scares him because he can barely take care of himself, so how the hell could he take care of them? And what if they turned out all crazy and fucked up like him, then what?

But then of course, they would be half-Elena. She would help him take care of them, teach him how to raise them and nurture them - after all, she always had that maternal streak about her. And they would be hers too, so they couldn't possibly end up as fucked up as him.

The thought of becoming a father; impregnating Elena like a normal, human man seemed so... foreign. After all, he'd been a walking corpse for the past 170 years - and would be for the next 70 at least. He'd never imagined that there could be such a thing as the cure to vampirism, much less that he would be able to take it and live out his days with the love of his life. He'd always thought that he would spend the rest of his eternity with Katherine, creating destruction and death all over the world, living like a king.

But then it didn't really work out with the bitch, and he found himself in love with saint Elena of the Gilbert family.

And surprisingly and unbelievably enough, she loved him back. Swore to the world that she loved him despite his flaws, claimed she would stay with him forever.

Damon ruefully smiled through his bitter tears. Miracles did happen.

Even to him.

70 years... 70 years and he would see her again; hold her again, touch her again – kiss her again. 70 years from now he would finally be with the love of his life, live a mundane but happy life with her, educate himself, start a family with her, sneak off while the kids are sleeping to have crazy bunny sex, send them off to college, have more sex and then finally die in each other's arms. Like a damn Nicholas Sparks movie.

A vision appeared in his mind; so vivid and brilliant he almost believed it was true. He saw her in the kitchen as she cooked dinner. She turned her head over her shoulder, smiling at him, her chocolate eyes warm and tender. Her eyes alone made him melt; how long had it been since he'd been able to gaze into them? How long since he'd been able to bask in the beauty of her eyes looking at him with love, so warm and so gentle, making him feel like hey, he wasn't so bad after all?

"Damon."

She called out his name, and told him dinner was ready. Vaguely he heard the patter of tiny feet running across the parquet. "Mommy! Daddy!"

"Come, Damon," Elena's lovely voice beckoned.

He opened his eyes, realising that it was all just a figment of his imagination. A product of his loneliness; his brain's conjured images of his dreams and desires. The truth of the matter was that he was alone in the boarding house. Alone, cold and empty with a bloodstained carpet he would have to fix ASAP or Caroline would go crazy.

It didn't matter though. Because all that he'd just imagined would happen one day. And he would be happy and peachy keen; rainbows and butterflies, puppies and unicorns - all of it would be his.

She just had to wake up first.