A/N: Back! Finally, finally, I'm back! Vacation was wonderful. But it took me forever to recuperate from being gone for so long. I still don't feel quite up to par. But I wanted to get the next chapter out before you all gave up on me.

I know this chapter isn't really long, but it's something.

Thank you all, as always, for your feedback. I love you all, and I'm so SO happy to be back.

Chapter 24: Surprise!

Elena's POV

I've been back home for just over a month, and it's been absolutely wonderful. I have the best boyfriend and the best friends in the world. Dad's a completely different person, and I'm almost positive I'm going to have a stepmom before the year is over.

Here at the house, things have been relatively quiet. Stefan and Caroline managed to find a house about five miles away from Damon and I. And Damon and I have been taking full advantage of having the house all to ourselves. We've had sex in just about every room of the house. We've made up for the time we lost while I was in Richmond, and then some.

I know it's cliché, but I can honestly say that I've never been happier in my life. Although, in my current state, that's questionable. Right this very moment, I am crouched above the porcelain bowl of the toilet in our bathroom, having just dry heaved so much that my insides feel like someone just beat them with a hammer. I think I would feel better if I had actually puked.

Damon's at work, as he was when this happened yesterday. I've also been feeling pretty run down. I guess I have some sort of stomach bug. Hopefully, it'll pass soon. Either that or...No. I won't let myself think that. Because if it's that, Damon is going to be pissed. He's going to wonder how in the hell that could have possibly happened when I've been on the pill since I got here. Knowing him, he's probably going to wonder if I slept with someone else when I was in Richmond. No. It can't be that. It just...I mean, I would know. I think.

God, I need some female input. I think I'll call Caroline. I wish I had a mom to call. I wish I could call Elizabeth. I wish I didn't feel so lost right this very moment. Because, suddenly, I feel as if I can't breathe, like the walls are closing in on me. Stomach bug...that's all this is. That's it. God, please, let that be it.

Damon's POV

Work schmirk. Fuck this. I have so many fucking numbers running through my head right now, I don't know what's what. I don't know which numbers go to which account or who these clients are. The only thing I can think clearly about right now is Elena.

The past month has been mind-blowing, intense, incredible. And being stuck here at work talking to a bunch of men with receding hairlines and limitless bank accounts is anything but incredible. Sure, I'll come home with a hefty paycheck. But when the alternative involves spending the day in bed with my woman, well, I wish I could tell these rich bastards to kiss my ass. Unfortunately, Stefan might be rather disappointed in me if I acted on that. So, I'll sit here and pretend to listen to their incredibly boring pitch and pray that Mr. Long Winded hurries his ass up so I can leave.

Just when I think I'm going to fall asleep from the monotonous spiel of stupidity spewing from the mouth of Mr. Long Winded, my phone vibrates in my pocket. Everyone who is anyone knows not to text me while I'm at work. Everyone but one person...Elena. I'd read a text from Elena even if we were in the middle of the fucking armageddon. I discreetly look down to read what she wrote, hoping it's something naughty. Maybe she included a picture. Instead, the message simply says, "We need to talk." Well, fuck. Not ominous at all. Any conversation that starts with those four words is bound to end in misery. And just like that, Mr. Long Winded doesn't seem so bad after all.

Elena's POV

So, I called Caroline, and she said that I should go to the drugstore and buy a test just to make sure. So, I did. I went to the drugstore, and I bought a test...or ten. I bought the one with the single line, the one with the double lines, the one that has the little pink plus sign. Then, I threw in a few extras of each. False positives and all. And then, I bought the fancy digital test that simply says 'Pregnant' or 'Not pregnant.' Yes, I bought an extra of that one, as well.

Now, I'm sitting in our bathroom surrounded by little sticks, all of which I've peed on. Pretty gross. The tests all said to wait three minutes before reading the results. But, every test came back with the same result within 30 seconds. I'm pregnant. There are lines and plus signs and the word 'Pregnant.' There is no doubt. Holy frickin' cow, I'm pregnant!

I pick up all ten of the pregnancy tests, stuff them in the shopping bag they came in, and then I stuff that under my sink. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Wrong. I'm freaking out.

I texted Damon and told him that we need to talk. And God, I wish I could take that back. Because now I'm going to have to tell him. What the hell was I thinking? I can't do this. I don't know what to say. I don't know how it happened. I was on the pill, I took my pills with me to Richmond. I took them religiously every day, just like Damon made me do here. And then, when I came back here, I made sure my pills were packed in my bag. And, oh my God, shit. Shit shit shit. I didn't take a pill that morning, and we had sex, because I needed to. And then, the next day, we had sex in the kitchen, and I got so caught up in the sex and our talk afterwards, I forgot to take the pill that day, too. I kept telling myself I'd double up on the pills, and I forgot to. And I'll admit, I've kinda been taking them sporadically since I got back.

God, oh God. Damon is going to kill me. That's it. He's going to be done with me. He's going to hate me. God. I tell myself to calm down. Getting all worked up like this isn't going to help me, and it's not good for the baby. The baby. I gotta stop panicking. I know Damon might be mad when he finds out, but he would never just be done with me. He would never hate me. He told me so.

I finally manage to calm myself down, but then I hear the door close, followed by the distinct sound of Damon throwing his keys on the table before walking up the stairs. I want to hide. I'm tempted to lock myself in the bathroom and come out in nine months, baby in tow.

Instead, I sit on our bed, opening my book to a random page, trying my best to look like I've been there for hours. Damon comes in the room, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. He looks absolutely gorgeous. His hair is slightly disheveled, his five o'clock shadow makes me want to jump him, and his smile upon seeing me makes my heart do funny flip-flops. I wish I could just sit and here and admire him, but I know he's expecting me to talk. I can see the slightest hint of hesitation in his eyes. I can see his smile fade faster than normal. I can see the way that he takes longer than usual to change into more comfortable clothes.

Thirty minutes later, Damon comes and sits by me on the bed. He looks at my book funny, looks at me like I'm insane, and then looks back at my book. I look down to see what evoked this reaction to see that this whole time my book has been upside down. Smooth, Elena, real smooth. I shut the book quickly, and take some deep breaths that are meant to calm me down. Instead, they come out shaky and unsteady. I'm failing miserably at staying collected and cool.

"Elena? What's bothering you? Talk to me." Damon turns his body so that he's facing my legs. He rubs my knees and thighs gently, and if he keeps that up, I'm not going to be able to think, at least not about this talk we need to have.

"It's nothing really." Lie. I close my eyes, knowing how much he's going to hate that reply.

"Seriously? You text me while I'm in a crucial business meeting to tell me we need to talk about nothing? I mean, I've been worrying my ass off since then, wondering what the hell you could possibly need to talk to me about. Give me something." His harsh tone does nothing to calm me down. I'm sure he can see my heart beating through my shirt. And God, I'm nauseous.

"Um, well, I just wasn't feeling well is all. But I'm feeling better now. I shouldn't have worried you. Sorry." I could kick myself right now. Why can't I just say it? Why do I force myself to drag this out?

"What was wrong?" He's back to petting my leg, his strokes soothing my nerves somewhat.

"My stomach was bothering me. I was nauseous. But, like I said, it went away."

I see the wheels turning in his head. "You were nauseous? How long have you been feeling this way?"

I start playing my fingers, until I realize how sweaty my palms are. I'm looking everywhere except at Damon. And he knows. I can feel his gaze on me.

"Um, a couple of days."

Damon nods slightly, biting his lips. And then, he climbs off the bed, puts his shoes on, and starts walking out of the room.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to the drugstore. I think I know what's ailing you." I can tell by the look on his face, that he's hoping he's wrong. I want to cry.

My bottom lip quivers as I tell Damon that I've already been to the drugstore. He stops mid-step. His back is to me, but it's tense, rigid. He turns ever so slowly, fire mixing with uncertainty in his eyes.

"And?"

"And-and," I can't say it. I can't say that we're having a baby. I can't say it, because as much as I told myself before this moment that Damon would never leave me or hate me, now I'm unsure. I'm scared. The tears that I've been holding back start trickling out.

"So, are you going to tell me or not?"

I can't say it. I get down from the bed, walk into the bathroom, and grab the bag from under the sink. Then I walk back to the bed and dump all the little sticks out. And now, the tears are coming full force. Now is the moment of truth, the moment that could possibly break me.

Damon's POV

Elena just dumped out a bag full of what appear to be used pregnancy tests on our bed. I look over at her before looking at the sticks on the bed. Her whole body is trembling, and the sobs leaving her mouth come out choked and pitiful sounding.

I turn my attention to the bed, picking up each little stick, looking at them all. And if I didn't understand what all the lines and plus signs and dashes meant, I would certainly understand the ones that said 'Pregnant' clear as day in black letters. Elena looks and sounds like she is on the verge of having a fucking panic attack.

I put all the little sticks down on the bed, momentarily reminding myself to wash the sheets afterwards...sticks of pee and all. I turn to Elena, who is now holding herself tightly, and I wrap my arms around her. She takes a deep breath in, sobs into my shirt, and then practically collapses against me. I sit on the edge of the bed, pulling her onto my lap, holding her, rubbing her back, rocking her every so softly.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" I whisper.

"I-I was scared to. I thought you would be mad at me."

She thought I would be mad? I mean, no, I didn't expect to find out that I'm going to be a father in a matter of months. But how could I possibly be mad at her?

"I-I thought that you would think that this is my fault. I-I forgot to take my pill a few times, and-and I was scared that you would leave me."

I tilt her chin up with my hand so that I'm looking into her eyes. "Elena. Listen to me. I love you. And I would never even think about leaving you for something like this, especially not after I just got you back."

"So, you're not mad?"

"No. I would never hold you not remembering to take your pills against you. I love you. I will love this baby. If there is anyone in this world that I would want carrying my child, it would be you." I kiss Elena's head, cherishing the feeling of her in my arms. "You are going to be an amazing mother."

She smiles at me, and even with tears still streaming down her face, she is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. And knowing that she is carrying our baby inside of her makes her all the more beautiful.

"We need to schedule you a doctor's appointment and get you started on some prenatal care. And I want you taking it easy. No cleaning or cooking until after this baby is born. Understand?"

She pushes away from me. "Seriously?" I stifle a laugh, because I knew that was how she would react. "Damon. I'm perfectly capable to cleaning and cooking. I'm pregnant, not disabled. As long as I'm not doing heavy lifting or exhausting myself, I'll be fine."

"Fine, Elena. But the second you start feeling tired, I want you to drop everything and lay down. OK?"

"I can deal with that."

"Good."

She smiles at me again, and I lean in, kissing her softly, enjoying the gentle caress of her lips against mine.

"I love you so much, Damon. I'm sorry I wasn't braver."

"You're braver than anyone I've ever met. And I love you." I place my hand on her belly, still flat and showing no signs of the amazingness that lies underneath. "And I love you, little one."

I've never felt closer to anyone than I do to Elena right now. I feel like the luckiest man alive, having the honor of Elena Gilbert carrying my child. Any fears I had of not being ready to be a father have been quickly quashed. I am ready for this. I am ready to be the father that my father wasn't to me. I'm ready to spoil my kid and my lady. Elena and I sit on the bed, holding onto one another, only moving to lay down. And life in the Salvatore house is as close to perfection as it can get.