Hey guys, here's the new story I've been hinting at!

Think of it as a cross between Fast N Furious, Never Back Down, Gone in Sixty Seconds and all those type movies lol.

Been a while in the works and I hope ya'll like it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but this story.

"He always had to feel the rush, the heartbeat, the speed. He had a passion for things he knew could hurt him, but he never stayed long enough to get hurt. Sometimes, I guess he found that feeling with me. And the other times, he found it being lost." - Peter Pan (Kelsea Ballerini)

Prologue:

"Damon!"

Sirens whirled through air that was so frigid, you could see your breath with every exhale.

The cold slowed everything down, setting a filter of surrealism over the reality of what had happened.

"Damon! Damon, baby please! Wake up. Please!"

Police speaking over intercoms; the wails of an ambulance in the distance...none of it felt real.

Even the glass shattered all over the road, that Elena could feel digging into her knees, registered no pain.

The entirety of her focus was on the man in front of her, his beautiful face covered in blood, his eyes closed, and mouth unresponsive.

"No, no, no...Damon…"

Someone was speaking to her, but her mind wasn't computing what was being said.

They didn't matter.

"Damon? Oh, God…"

Hands on her shoulder jerked her to her surroundings, and she turned, swinging.

The officer stopped her arm before she could make contact, and grabbed her wrist in a vice grip.

"No!" she screamed, fighting against him, "Let go of me! Damon!"

"The paramedics need to do their job, Miss! Please!"

She struggled against him until he was forced to press her into the side of his cruiser, "Calm down."

When she stopped moving, he released her, and she nearly crumbled.

"Elena!" she glanced over to see a head of blonde hair rushing towards her.

Rebekah, thank God.

As she came up, the officer gave them a look, then turned to check the scene.

The girls arms flew around her, "I'm so sorry! I saw the crash. I tried to find you, but everyone was taking off. It was madness!"

She squeezed Elena to her chest, "I'm so sorry. Is...is he…"

"He was bleeding so much," she whispered, pulling away from her friend, tears racing down her cheeks, "And he wouldn't open his eyes, Bekah. He wouldn't...oh God."

"Hey, shhh," she was being hugged again, as Rebekah scoped the scene by the ambulance, "I'm sure they'll take care of him. Come on, he's Damon. He'll pull through."

Elena forced a nod, before her memory came back to her, "The others...did they get away?"

"Yeah, the guys cleared out before the lights started flashing. There were a few arrests, but none of ours; They're looking for Klaus. Mason has Stefan and Tyler. I think they're going to regroup at Lily's."

She swallowed, "Good...that's good. But Lily's gonna want to know about..."

Looking over, she saw that the paramedics were now lifting Damon onto a stretcher.

"You should get out of here," she told Rebekah quickly, "As soon as the chaos dies down, they'll start rounding up for questioning. And if they find out your Klaus's sister, you might as well pick out a cell."

"What about you? Being the Crow's girl is just as bad, and orange isn't exactly your best color."

Elena looked back at the ambulance, "I'm not leaving him."

The blonde hesitated, and Elena urged her, "Just go. Give Lily the details; and have her meet me at the hospital."

Reluctantly, Rebekah nodded, "Alright. Stay safe."

She placed a hard kiss on the brunette's lips before they parted, then Elena rushed over to the ambulance, just as the paramedic was about to close the door.

"Wait!" she called, "I'm riding with him."

The man nodded and moved so she could climb in, then shut the door behind her.

It took only a few hours for the police to clear the scene, and the chief felt rather pleased with himself.

They had, after all, been tracking Klaus Mikaelson's street racing circuit for months now, and had finally caught a break.

Sure, perhaps the "King" himself had gotten away, but they'd secured a few of his top racers with quite the long records.

Damon Salvatore being at the top of that list.

As soon as the hospital declared that he was no longer in critical condition, an official arrest would be warranted, and a personal notch would be added to the chief's belt.

If he was honest, he'd wanted Salvatore more than Mikaelson.

The self proclaimed "Crow" had flown away one too many times, mocking in the fact that he'd managed to give them the slip.

But all things come to an end, and now his wings were clipped.

He'd do his time, and the force would eventually track Mikaelson down.

"Sir," one of the deputies walked over to him, "Should I add this to evidence?"

It was the banner that had been strung over the makeshift entrance to the race.

The chief took it into his hands and rolled it out onto the ground, so that it could be seen.

"Welcome to Valhalla?" the deputy read, confused.

"The underground of the underground," the chief smirked, "The Mikaelson's elite. The top of the street race and fighting ring. They only hold it once every five years and always change the location, so it's been difficult to track down."

"But why Valhalla?"

"Ah, who knows," he spat, wadding the sign up, "These SOB's think they're gods or some shit. Just toss this in the trash, where it belongs."

"Yes sir."

The chief watched him disappear and thought that he should probably take off himself.

After all, he would rather like to be there in the hospital when Salvatore woke up.

:)