Okay, so...this is my first Delena...well, anything, so I'm a little intimidated. I watch Vampire Diaries religiously, and (come and get me, Stelena shippers) absolutely love Damon and Elena. They are so perfect for each other. Sometimes I wish the show followed the book(s) more often, though, because the books make me beyond happy. Anyhoo...

I apologize beforehand if this sucks (see previous paragraph for explanation), but I thought I'd give it a shot since this idea came to me in the shower while listening to my homemade VD playlist and wouldn't leave. Try to enjoy =)

-CheckItOutGirl=)

A/N: 3rd person. Check out my profile for updates, important info, polls, etc. Set in episode 2x22, or "As I Lay Dying", the VD Season 2 finale episode (quite the tear-jerker!). Not a songfic, just named after this particular scene's background music (also tear-jerking!). I think it'll be more poetic than standard, chapter-like writing...or at least that's what I'm hoping for haha. And even though this is written for the TV VD, I make some small, subtle references/phrases from the books.

. . .

Baby, I Should Go

"You should have met me in 1864. You would've liked me."

Elena Gilbert lifted her eyes in gentle analyzation, his words slightly surprising her.

"I like you now...just the way you are."

With all the shyness and modesty of a young schoolgirl, Elena gave in to the love tearing at her body in this very moment, pressing her lips to his own, his chest feebly pushing out and scraping in gusts of air.

When she broke away, letting him breathe, knowing how hard it was for him as is, he took in one more preciously accounted for breath. "Thank...you," he managed to his princess of darkness.

"You're welcome."

Where is that damn cure? Elena practically screamed inside her skull, her right hand intertwined with Damon's usually strong, protective one, her left gently clutching his black shirt. It wasn't fair.

Sure, Damon wasn't perfect. Who was, really? In this town, everyone had some kind of flaw, some blemish on their reputation or secret locked deep within their shredded souls. Even way back in 1864, it was that way. Damon had made mistakes. But he hadn't known better. He was never taught to learn better.

All Damon was, really—no matter how many fearsome, intimidating stances or recklessly protective exteriors he displayed—was just a child, trapped under layers and layers of concrete personalities and self-created armor built from the cruelty of the outside world that he wasn't yet strong enough to deal with, and the devastating effects it came with. He still wasn't ready. He still didn't understand the true terrors of the world, because every time he was faced with one, he shied away from it since he couldn't solve it. And now he'd never get the chance to confront them and live up to the brave personae he'd erected for himself.

It was so hard for Elena to see the strong, determined, carefree Damon she knew and loved slowly crumbling into that inexperienced little boy. The scared one. The pure, unblemished Damon that was caged inside him for so long, aching to get out...but not this way. Not now. Not for him to be released, only for him to be plunged back into an eternal darkness that he'd never come back from. Not brought back to life just to die again.

It just wasn't fair.

"I didn't mean just for the kiss, Elena."

Elena practically jumped, so lost in thought she almost forgot the severely emotionally compromising situation she was in.

"W-What?" Oh, right. He'd just thanked her.

"Thank you...for...everything." Damon lightly chuckled, internally kicking himself for how cliché he sounded. Hot tears streamed down Elena's cheeks as she shifted her head to look at him, her face puzzled.

"What have I done? All I've done is judge you, hurt you, fight you, damn you, betray you...the list goes on." Her throat started to close as a fresh sweep of tears jumped free from her cinnamon eyes, causing her to choke on her own words from the guilt that suddenly overwhelmed her.

"No...you've done more than that. Much more. You've believed in me. Trusted me, no matter how many times you had every right to take it back. You've loved me...no matter how reluctant you are to admit it."

Elena bit her lip and pressed her face into the crook of his shoulder, letting the tears seep into his shirt as she reached back a hand and ran it gingerly through his soft, damp hair, clutching him ever closer.

"But most of all...you've been my friend. So...thank you." Damon's voice was growing ever-weaker. It was nearly a whisper now.

"Damon...I...I do love you..." Elena could feel a 'but' strung onto the end of that statement, but decided against acting upon it. She knew he was near his end now. She might as well let him savor and revel in what he'd needed to hear for so long.

A weak smile painted his lips, his eyes never leaving her face, even as they ever so slowly drifted shut. That usually playful glint in his crystal blue orbs was fading, the twinkle dimming...dying.

Elena squeezed the hand she held, comforting him in his last moments. Even if Katherine were to miraculously barge in with the cure at this very moment, Elena feared—no, she knew—she'd be too late. He was too far up the steps to Death's door to bring him back down now.

Stroking his face tenderly, she gently rested her forehead on his chin, letting his lips linger there.

He laughed softly...too quietly, almost a whisper. "I think I should go now."

Elena sadly laughed through her freely flowing waterfall of tears in reply, and trying to make her voice light, said, "I'll miss you."

She counted the almost groan of a chuckle he emitted in response as one of the last breaths she felt against her forehead.

One more...

Two more...

A third, scraping against his lungs and throat...

And then nothing.

And Elena Gilbert, his princess of darkness, held the little boy in her arms as he slept, weeping.