I own nothing. -hiss-

Prolouge.

Damon.

The name was bringing him back, slowly. He couldn't feel anything. It was as if he were floating.

And then he felt it.

The aching pain shot through him. And then it was stabbingly intense. He took a tiny breath, and then groaned inwardly. That had been a bad idea. And then his senses started returning, so slowly. He coughed from the ash in his lungs, and then found that breathing did little. Numbly he realized he had a punctured lung. Now how did that happen?

And then it hit him.

I can't remember anything! But he remembered names, and he remembered the girl with the blue eyes, and the girl with the red hair. The only names he could match to faces were their's. Elena. Bonnie. But the other names swirled. Matt? Meredith? Stefan? He blinked. He knew those names, but he couldn't remember from where. He clung to the most real part of the wasteland around and inside him. Damon. I am Damon.

He started to sit up. It was a long process and seemed to take forever. But he managed. He brought a hand up to his chest, and it came away covered in his own blood. He frowned. There was a hole through his chest. How-

Ah! He gasped in pain, a little whimper escaping his lips. He realized what had happened...

His heart had beat.

He knew he needed help, so he started the all-too long process of standing up.

Damon. I am Damon.