My first-ever fanfic here! Let me know what you think. :-) Set immediately after the events of the Season 2 finale, it's Delena, mostly, though I can't imagine a realistic scenario where she would just throw Stefan off without a care in the world, so it'll be slow-burning for a few chapters. Rated M for the massive amounts of sex and violence I plan to include after these initial chapters of set-up. Disclaimer: I don't own Damon, Elena, or anyone else in this story. L J Smith and Warner Brothers got there way before me, unfortunately.

They stared at each other with similarly dumbfounded expressions for a few minutes after Katherine's departure, trying to process a hundred thoughts and questions all at once. Was Damon really going to live? What had Stefan done to get this miracle cure? What did Klaus want with him? Where had he taken him? What had Katherine meant when she said Stefan had sacrificed everything? Neither of them had any answers.

Damon's mind was reeling. He was going to fucking live? How? No one survives a werewolf bite. He'd resigned himself to dying, he'd even made peace with it. Less than five minutes earlier he'd been fighting to maintain consciousness long enough for the world's sappiest deathbed confession of love, for God's sake. Why should his wicked, cruel self get to live another day when someone like Rose didn't get a second chance? And why, why the fuck couldn't Katherine have shown up just a few minutes earlier before he had a chance to bare his pathetic soul to a woman who was in love with his brother?

Elena was the first to break the silence, returning to sit beside him and gently taking his wounded arm in both her hands. He winced at her touch, as much out of fear that she would pity him for his emotional outburst as out of pain. He looked down at the infected gash to avoid meeting her eyes. It was still horrible, the disease was so far progressed, but if he wasn't mistaken it did look slightly less hideous than it had a few moments before.

"Are you really okay?" she whispered as she inspected the torn and angry flesh. Why was she being so gentle? He couldn't handle kindness well, didn't she know that? She touched him as though she was afraid he, the big scary vampire, might break in her hands. He couldn't remember ever having been caressed so tenderly.

Against his will his mind flashed back to the sweet feeling of her lips against his a few moments before. He hadn't kissed her, hadn't taken it from her. How many years had it been since a human had kissed him free of compulsion? Yet she had, of her own free will, her kiss full of sorrow and compassion and dismay and something that felt an awful lot like... love? She hadn't tried to hide her feelings from him, maybe because she didn't know she was broadcasting them as clear as if she'd been speaking, or maybe just because she'd thought it was a good-bye. He knew it wasn't going to last, though, if he was healing. Of course she was sad and emotional when he was dying- it's easy to feel such magnanimity when you know there's not going to be any follow-through required. Tomorrow everything would be back to normal and they'd just pretend like nothing had ever happened. The thought threatened to overwhelm him so he put it out of his mind and tried to focus on answering her question.

"Okay?... I... maybe?" His eyebrow quirked up in disbelief as he spoke. His head was clearing, he felt slightly less shaky. He still couldn't believe he was healing, but it seemed to be true. "My brain still feels kind of like it's on fire, but kind of a smaller fire than before. Maybe even more like a well-banked pit of glowing embers..."

He trailed off as Elena suddenly burst into sobs. Tears rolled down her face as her breath came in gasps. Damon, still slightly delirious and feverish, had no idea whether her tears were those of happiness or misery.

"Elena?" he asked softly, his voice scarcely more than a whisper, searching her face for clues and squeezing her hand as she held onto his.

"I'm sorry... I just... you...and... well..." She paused to force her breathing to slow and to gain enough composure to speak in clear sentences. "I just, every time I hope, every time I believe... my parents, Jenna, Isobel... even stupid John. Everyone dies." she sighed, and as she continued to speak her voice got very quiet. "I just, he promised me he could do it. He promised me he'd save you... and I just couldn't even let myself believe there was a chance. I just... I thought I was going to have to go through it all over again. I don't want to. I don't know if I can handle it. I don't want to lose anyone else. I can't."

Damon swallowed a lump of emotion in his throat as he collected the shaking girl into his arms. She buried her head in his shoulder and held onto him as if she was afraid he was about to disappear.

To be fair, you almost did.

For a few minutes he just held her and let her cry, marveling in the feeling of being the one to soothe her pain rather than cause it. He'd caused her so much pain... Why had he caused her so much pain? Why had she ever forgiven him for the things he'd done?

My brain must really be fried, he thought, because I have to be hallucinating. There is no way this girl is weeping tears of relief over MY survival. I've been a thorn in her side since I moved back here.

He did appear to be saved, though. He was starting to really believe it. His fever had broken and a dull itch in his arm told him it was healing, if slightly slower than he was used to.

But saved at what cost, his mind nagged, what cost did your baby brother pay for your miserable excuse for a life? Katherine said he gave up everything... and she even sounded a little sad when she said it. What had Klaus done to make soulless, evil Katherine actually feel sorry for someone? And what can I possibly do to undo it?

He sighed a weak, weary sigh against the top of Elena's head. He felt exhausted and completely lost. Ten minutes ago he'd been moments away from death, and now he needed to find some way to focus and get Stefan out of whatever mess he was in right now. He had no clue where to begin, but he would have to find a way. He had to, for Elena. It was the only thing he could think of to offer her. He would save Stefan, and he would give her the happily-ever-after she deserved, as much as was possible with a life full of witches and vampires and werewolves.

"You hear that, Elena?" he asked her aloud. "The poor bastard found a way to save me, and now I'm just going to have to save him right back. After all, anything he can do, I can do better, right?"

He got no response, though. Elena, overwrought and beyond exhausted from the events of the past few days, had finally succumbed to unconsciousness in his arms.

So fragile, he thought as he held her, breathing in the clean scent of her shampoo as it mingled with the smell of Katherine's perfume which still hung in the air, and so young, as delicate as a bird. You've been through hell a dozen times over... you've lost so much: the parents who raised you... the parents you barely knew... Jenna who tried so hard to be there for you... and however many classmates and friends caught in the absurd supernatural crossfire that plagues this town. I promise you with everything I am that we will NOT add the love of your life to that list. I will find him for you, and together we will save him. I swear it.

With that thought Damon held her just a little closer, and drifted off into a deep, healing sleep.

Her first thought as she drifted into consciousness was that she was absolutely safe. She was wrapped in strong, powerful arms and cradled against a cool, muscular chest. Stefan slept over frequently enough that the feeling was familiar and comfortable. But somehow this time it felt off, not quite right. As she woke up further she realized that she felt different because the arms that held her so tenderly were not Stefan's, but Damon's. That thought jolted her awake as the events of yesterday flooded back to her. Stefan couldn't hold her, because he was missing. As she began to stir Damon's arms tightened around her ever so slightly, as though he was reluctant to let her go.

"I've made a lot of choices that have gotten me here. I deserve this. I deserve to die."

"No..." she shifted down to meet his eyes, and the sincerity she saw there broke her heart,"you don't."

"I do, Elena, and it's okay. 'cause if I'd chosen differently I wouldn't have met you. I'm so sorry. I've done so many things to hurt you."

He's in absolute agony, on his deathbed, and he's talking about your pain? "It's okay," she tried to smile at him through her tears, "I forgive you."

"I know you love Stefan, and it will always be Stefan..." her own words sounded so cruel echoed on his lips, "But I love you...you should know that."

"I do..."

He loved her. Convinced he'd never have her, he'd only told her because he thought it was over for him. She told him she knew, but did she really, before he told her? She had known, certainly, that he wanted her. She'd thought for a long time it was just to enrage his jealous brother, then she thought that he cared for her because she wore his beloved Katherine's face. Maybe that was all true in the beginning, and she had to believe it probably was, but at some point those superficial and petty games had faded and she'd become more to him than she ever could have thought.

"I thought he was too broken to have such pure emotions," she thought, and hated herself for a minute.

Turning within his grasp she took a moment to look at his face. He was angelic as he slept, flawless and somehow softer than usual, without the cruel smirk he normally wore.

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

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

She hadn't realized how true that was until the words left her lips.

And then you almost lost him, like you lose everyone.

But she hadn't lost him. He was okay now because Stefan saved him. Her heart swelled with relief over Damon and worry for Stefan. Tears sprang into her eyes, uninvited.

Damon of course picked that moment to open his eyes, raising a sleepy eyebrow at her.

"Really, Elena, I know I'm not at my best in the morning, but hysterics seem like a bit of an overreaction, don't you think?"

She rolled her eyes at him. He rolled his back at her, mocking.

"You must be feeling better, you're as impossible as ever."

He responded with a flash of his pain-in-the-ass grin, which was marred for a split second by a wince of pain.

"Are you okay?" she asked, suddenly alarmed.

"Better than I expected to feel today," he quipped, "but still not a hundred percent. I'm also...um... a bit hungry." He punctuated the statement with a pointed glance down at her throat, which was still sporting his tooth marks from his unwitting attack during his fevered hallucinations the night before.

In the not-so-distant past his words would have seriously disturbed or even frightened Elena, but no longer. Months of dating Stefan and being up to her ass in vampiric drama had desensitized her to the idea of being a food group, and she knew that Damon in his right mind would never willingly hurt her, so rather than shrinking away she reached forward, brushed the hair out of his face, and smiled as she said, "Wait here and I'll go grab you a snack."

She knew he'd never say so, but she saw his appreciation of her nonchalant acceptance of his nature reflected in his uncharacteristically unguarded eyes as she stood and started to make her way to the bedroom door.

She hesitated for a second with her hand on the doorknob, knowing somehow that as soon as she returned their peaceful little cocoon would be invaded by worries about Stefan, plans with Jeremy and Alaric, and a million other real-world concerns. There was nothing to do about that, though, so she smiled at him and left the room, heading to the basement to find him a few bags of blood.

What on earth? she thought as she left the room. Surely this man was some impostor and the real, snarky, evil and unhinged Damon was hiding in the closet waiting for the best moment to come out and laugh in her face. But he hadn't.

She'd never seen those blue eyes so open and genuine before, had never seen a smile that didn't have an ulterior motive behind it. But the way he was looking at her... the things he'd said last night... his deathbed confession had been so sweet, so pure, so honorable. He loved her. He loved her hopelessly, devoted utterly despite the fact that she'd told him he'd never stand a chance, that it would always be Stefan who held her heart. Such feelings without reciprocation must be agony, she thought sadly. She had no idea how to handle him. When she kissed him he thanked her, for God's sake. He thanked her because he knew she'd never have done it if he weren't dying. She felt sick at the thought.

But why? her traitorous brain asked, it's just the truth. You're in love with his brother- you don't need to be kissing him at all.

That thought made her feel even worse. She wasn't about to examine those feelings right now, though. Nope. Not a chance. The real world was far too fucked up for her to worry about her love life just this second.

What are we going to do now? She sighed heavily as she reached the basement and thoughts of the world outside of this house started to plague her.

With Jenna gone she was about to have to go through the custody dance all over again, and while she was pretty sure she was old enough to apply for emancipation, she wasn't sure about Jeremy. Who would they live with, though? They were out of living relatives! She had to figure something out, though. Something that would keep them in Mystic Falls. If she had to leave before they found Stefan... Maybe Alaric would have some answers for them, but then, Alaric was probably feeling as lost and broken as she was right now. This would all be easier to deal with, too, if she wasn't so worried about Stefan.

"Stefan what did you do?" she asked the empty room as she fished in the refrigerator for the most freshly-dated bags of blood to bring up to Damon. And why won't you return my messages? The seemingly ever-present knot in her stomach tightened at the thought, but she shook her head and put on her game face as she walked back towards Damon's room. She needed to be strong right now, at least until Damon was totally better.

Damon who is going to live, and who is in love with you, her brain reminded her. What are you going to do about that? How do you feel about that? About him?

Another sigh escaped her as she shoved that particular turmoil of emotions to the back of her mind again. There were too many things going on to make any kind of big deal over the things that were said las night, she resolved, too much at stake to feel awkward. They would just have to keep on going, find Stefan, and then everything would work itself out.

We will be fine, she insisted to herself, just fine.