A/N: It's been a long time since I've written, but I couldn't help it when this came to me. I'd love feedback. No flames, be nice - I'm rusty, and un-beta'd. And I've never written smut before, which is hopefully coming up, SO if you've ever written it any advice or beta offers are appreciated. Also, you may like to google PT-141 if you want to know what we're getting into.

i won't tell anybody that you turn the world around

i won't tell anybody that your voice is my favourite sound

i won't tell anybody, won't tell anybody

they wanna see us fall. they wanna see us fall down.

It was the nausea that first woke her. Fighting its way up her throat, the muscles in her face were tensing in an effort to force the feeling away before she was even conscious. And then she was awake, with a gasp of humid air, suddenly aware of the punishingly hard ground her face and body lay heavily on. Grit pushing painfully into her cheek forced her upwards, despite the wave of sickness that came over her, and she uncomfortably pulled her self into a half-sitting position, leaning on the rough wall she felt beside her. She was immediately hit with a heady pain across her scalp, which settled into a strong, dully pulsing headache.

She felt like her grip on the world had been torn away from her, the pain and nausea distracting her from being able to think straight. But she immediately knew something wasn't right. Well, she thought to herself, of course something's not right. But it was more than that. She wasn't just disorientated and in pain, she was also painfully aware of a multitude of dangerous situations she could possibly be in. She knew, aided, and was involved with, vampires. Her sacrificial death was also a fairly important ingredient in the breaking of a curse. A curse the oldest and most powerful vampires wanted broken. Not exactly a charming outlook when waking up after what she assumed was her kidnapping.

But as she opened her eyes, slowly, pushing the (receding, but still all too present) instinct to gag away, she immediately felt hope, a small flicker inside her. She knew this place; she'd been here many times. It was almost home. Almost…because it was not quite. Not quite the intimidating, but warm and safe manor she knew was above it. But home because it was so close to it. The only thing stopping her was that door, which she could see; from the far wall she was leaning against, was chained and bolted shut. And then, another shot of hope, mixed with a strong nagging feeling of apprehension, as she spotted him. He sat straight against the wall to her left, out of the dim stream of light that stretched across the floor of the room. His legs were straight, crossed at the ankle, and he was turning something slowly in his hands. She frowned, waited for him to look at her. Surely he'd noticed her waking. Surely he wasn't the one who put her here…

"Damon…?", she ventured carefully, and watched as his head lifted and turned towards her, his features still indistinct.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," he replied slowly, with no sign of the common threatening note in his voice. Elena swallowed at the tenderness she heard in his voice. He'd spoken as though afraid his voice alone would break her. What was going on?

"You won't be feeling good." He said through the darkness, even though his head had turned away again, and he did not see her reach for her stomach with her clutching hand as another wave hit. At least now that her head rested still against the rock wall, the pain felt further away. "It won't last," and she only just heard what he muttered next, "Although you may soon be wishing it did." Elena thought she sensed just a touch of embarrassment in his voice.

"Damon. What's going on? I don't understand" Elena said strongly, after taking a shuddering breath. He still did not look at her again, but he began to speak, his voice low and discouragingly despondent.

"There are some things you should know. Others you should figure out on your own," he shot her a quick look, but she could not see, in order to read, the expression on his face, "in a few hours I'd reckon. You've been out for at least two, since I got here. I was given vervain, only a little, long enough for her to get me here. All you required was a knock to the head."

His voice was absent of its usual sing-song sarcasm. She felt a small tug inside her as she realised the only time this happened was when he was worried, really worried. About her. Always about her.

"Katherine." She said, like the word was a bitter taste in her mouth. "What is she doing Damon? Where's Stefan?"

He sighed, loudly, crossly and pulled his legs up so his feet were flat on the floor.

"It's really not as a bad as you think," and then she could see, as well as sense, his trademark smirk spreading across his face, "although, it is also much worse." And then the smirk was gone and he was again staring intently at the object in his hand. "I assume you're still feeling ill?"

"Yes, and I suppose you know why?" she replied testily, trying to insert some semblance of control into her voice.

"Yes," he replied simply, "and you should really try to go to sleep. Trust me, Elena."

"I really think that my priority in this situation, however bad I'm feeling, isn't to sleep Damon, it's to figure out how the hell we're going to get out of here…and kill that…bitch, before she kills Stefan! And I know she has him, she must, why else are we locked away down here? But I refuse to be helpless…"

"Really Elena? I mean, really?", he interrupted, putting an abrupt end to her admittedly slightly crazed spiel.

"…what?", her voice was suddenly small and he saw her face drop, she already knew what he was going to say.

"Sleep, Elena. She doesn't want to kill him, she wants…", he broke short and swallowed at the expression dancing across her face, both confused, and painfully aware. "There's nothing we can do. Nothing I haven't already tried while you've been unconscious. And that's how you need to remain. You have problems of your own to deal with."

"I don't understand…and I also think I might vomit," she replied, leaning forward, and bracing one hand on the floor.

"You're not going to vomit. You'll just feel like you're going to for a while. It'll pass."

"Did she give me something? Am I drugged?", Elena demanded with sudden clarity, her face still turned down at the rocky floor, knuckles on her hand white as it tried to grip the ground and force away another sudden wave.

"I'm afraid so," he began, a strange tone to his voice that she couldn't place through this haze of nausea. She groaned at his answer and he carried on, "but Elena, you're not going to vomit, or die, or want to die…for much longer. There are no long lasting side affects and it doesn't last forever. So .Go. To. Sleep."

He watched her lower herself slowly, carefully to the ground, wincing as she placed her head on the ground. Within a flash Damon was crouched beside her, his leather jacket off, and folded under her head. She blinked, and he was on the other side of the room again, looking at the door as if he wished his eyes could burn a hole through it.

She closed her own, and surrendered to the restless doze that took her immediately. She dreamt she felt a cold, gentle hand on her brow, and heard a voice. Everything will be all right, it said. When she woke again, it wasn't from nausea. Her limbs were stiff, but her body was throbbing, deeply, all the way through. And suddenly, something switched.

She lay there for a while, keeping her eyes determinedly shut, trying to push past the inexplicable arousal that was overpowering, in a completely different way to earlier, her ability to think. Her mind tried desperately to explain it to her, but she couldn't connect how she felt now, to how she had felt going to sleep. She knew she hadn't imagined her situation, she could still feel the ground pressing against her bones, and smell the humid scent of dirt and rock, and darkness. She could sense no light, and flickered her eyes open to check quickly, before jamming them shut again. It was night. But she felt none of the nausea from before, and her headache was gone, though the back of her skull felt bruised when she shifted onto her back. Something else came over her as she shifted, and she tried not to gasp as her body reacted to this innocent movement. She cursed herself for feeling this way, she felt disgusted by herself. She remembered vivid dreams, right before she woke. She was a sexually modest person, and these dreams…she felt a flush cover her face just remembering, and oddly hoped that Damon wasn't looking at her, couldn't see her through the darkness.

Thinking of Damon, in the same room, probably aware of her every tiny movement and sound, she tried, in vain, not to dwell on the images swelling in her mind. The feeling of Stefan taking her, the sound of him behind her, in front of her, her own sounds against his skin as she made hot wet marks on his coldness. These were not memories; they were fantasies, tumbling ahead of her, out of her control, playing before her closed, flickering eyes. And then, images of Damon's face, above hers, at her neck, between her legs suddenly flicked into her mind before she could stop them. She forced herself to jolt out of her reverie, feeling insanely dirty and pathetic as she pushed herself upwards and sat, breathing heavily, trying not to think about how much Damon knew at that moment of her body's betrayal.

"I'm not going to have sex with you." His sudden voice shocked her, not to mention what he said.

"Excuse me?" she replied, trying to sound indignant, rather than inexplicably disappointed. His gravely voice had swept through her, with no barrier and she shuddered.

She heard him shift, could see now the outline of his body, his arms and legs.

"I'm gonna be honest here Elena. And you're not going to like it. But please, for god's sake, don't get upset, what's happening to your body will pass. And yes, I know what's happening to your body," he heard her inhale sharply, "and not just because I can smell it" he said (rather hungrily she thought, but put it down to her obviously out of control hormones). She swallowed down her embarrassment.

"I'm assuming this has something to do with Katherine drugging me?" she said acidly to hide her fear, and something else.

"Have you ever heard of PT-141?" he asked, Elena thought she sensed just a touch of embarrassment in his voice. She supposed that he wasn't used to someone else being in control, and she wasn't surprised that he would be feeling ashamed by being unable to prevent this happening to them. To her, she reminded herself, noting that he seemed to be feeling fine and dandy in comparison to her current state.

Elena shook her head in response, knowing he could see it.

"Of course not…" he murmured to himself, before clearing his throat. " It's what Katherine's, ever so kindly, injected you with. A rather high dose as well, given the nausea and headaches your reaction began with. A sex drug, in simple terms. It tends to result in heightened arousal, better results from sexual encounters…" He faltered, "I'm sure you get my gist. In different circumstances it can be a lot of fun." He tossed a small empty glass vial towards her, and she reached forward to pick it off the ground, ignoring the clench low down within her as she did so. She could make out the pharmaceutical looking label on the container, but nothing more.

"She threw that in with you, while saying something a long the lines of, 'enjoy her the same way I'm about to enjoy your younger brother. She'll finally want you,'" he mimicked, and Elena couldn't help but pick up the bitter and hurt note in his voice. "I'm assuming Stefan has also been dosed, if she's to get what she wants. Although his experience of it will be quite different."

"How do you mean?", Elena asked, a slight taste of bile in her mouth at the thought of Stefan feeling the way she was feeling right now, around Katherine. That feeling was grinding desire, and it was forcing her to concentrate quite hard on thoughts of Stefan and purity, in order to not think about the man in the room with her.

"Being a vampire, he can take extremely high doses and not experience any of the negative side affects. He'll be feeling all-encompassing, out of this world, pleasure right now, and it can last a long time." Elena frowned.

"How do you know all this?", she asked, wishing she hadn't almost as soon as it came out her mouth. He laughed shortly.

"How do you think? I've done this before. Many times," he replied, making her roll her eyes.

"Of course you have." She thought for a little, keeping still to avoid those currents, that seemed to run from her fingertips through her blood and down to her core like molten metal, occurring no matter how innocently she moved.

"But why, Damon? I understand the premise. She gets Stefan alone, so horny it's unbearable, and maybe she thinks he'll have sex with her if I'm not around. And the same thing, I suppose goes with our situation doesn't it? She removes me, both of us, temporarily, thinking that by the time she lets us out, I'm firmly in your arms, and out of her way. And then if she still hasn't secured Stefan, she will when he realises what I've done. That's what she wants to happen, isn't it? That's what she thinks will happen…"

Damon was silent for a moment; she could not see his hand tightly gripping his thigh, to control his unreasonable reaction to hearing her indirectly admit that she was unbearably horny.

"You've got the basic idea right. But it's not just about sex, Elena. She knows that sex alone cannot destroy what you two have. Her plan is based upon the belief that sex between her and Stefan, and I assume between you and I, would reveal much more than pleasure. That during, and following, the act, realisation of love would occur, impossible to ignore." His voice was a forced monotone.

"Oh." Elena, try as she might, could not force her self to feel more concern over Katherine's plan, than she did her persistent arousal.

"But don't worry, it's not going to work."

"I know that,", Elena retorted.

"No. You don't, but I do. I'll say it again, I'm not going to have sex with you. Right now you're turned on, but it's nothing compared to what's coming. And I'm not going to be surprised, or judge you, when you reach breaking point. Luckily, it seems Katherine overlooked drugging me, foolishly thinking I had no control to break down in the first place. And so, as much as it may slightly pain me to say this," he sighed reluctantly, "You're safe with me."

Elena forced her slightly gaping mouth shut, she was amazed by how…chivalrous he was being. Damon, the same Damon who tried to force her to admit her feelings for him, force her to kiss him, and killed her brother when she didn't, was going to refuse to have sex with her, no matter what she did or how much she begged, it would seem. A slightly awkward silence took over the room, and they both sat, quietly absorbed in their own thoughts, Damon keeping his eyes trained on her.

He was right, the ball of desire that sat heavy, low in her abdomen was growing, turning, her skin pin-prickling with sensitivity. And for a moment, in amidst her gratitude and relief, she felt regret that he was being so chivalrous, and understanding.

As her desire grew, so did an unreasonable anger that she had to be locked in here with fucking Saint Damon. If she was going to be feeling like this, in a locked dungeon, with Damon, she didn't want this sanctimonious version of him. For the first time, she wanted the Damon she used to know. Her breasts were aching against the restraint of her bra, the muscles in her torso and legs taut with pressure, and there was a telling trickle between her legs. No, right now she definitely did not want the increasingly soft and surprisingly tender Damon that had been slowly appearing, but the one who would kill, literally kill, to be in this situation with her. That Damon, the one she had hated so sharply, but then felt, with the same knife, a cutting desire when came too close to her, with that (not quite) smile on his face. He wouldn't think twice about satisfying her, riding out this trip with her, and then forgetting all about it once they left the room. This new Damon, she somehow knew, wanted to be able to use this opportunity, but something was stopping him. His humanity. Ugh, Elena thought to herself, feeling only slight shame now, could I not have waited until after this before I spurred his little soul recovery?

In the deep recesses of her mind Elena was aware that the toll of the drug was not only strong on her libido, but also her inhibitions. She knew she was a responsible, caring, cautious person, but in her current state she could only scoff at her usual self. Right now all that mattered was the ache between her legs, that strengthened as her power to resist it steadily diminished. She knew she was wrong to be wishing Damon would just shut up about being in control and safe (blah blah blah) and fuck her, and that normally, while it wouldn't be the last thing on her mind, she'd still never even consider, imagine, doing that to Stefan. Even though he was her ex, this was his brother she was talking about. The supposed 'bad' brother. Yeah well, not so bad after all… she was unable to stop herself from growling lightly in annoyance at this thought, causing Damon to look over. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. She knew it wasn't her fault that she was thinking so irrationally, or wanting Damon so badly, and she needed to accept it. It would pass, eventually, and all she needed to do was resign herself to the wait. As if sensing her thoughts, Damon spoke up.

"Don't blame yourself for whatever you're feeling or thinking right now. Arousal is a powerful thing. We can't do what I'm pretty sure you're imagining and wishing we could. But if I were you I'd stop freaking out, and just let go. Heck, enjoy it even. I'd be wishing I'd been given a fix to, if that didn't mean…" He stopped suddenly, but Elena wasn't listening anymore, she had relaxed back against the wall and was lightly running her fingertips across the broken ground, back and forth. Damon's mouth went dry. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. No. This cannot be happening, he thought to himself as realization hit him. But it was happening. His earlier reaction to her words had never gone away, and he had been too distracted by Elena to even notice this, but now, as he shifted, he had to bite back a groan. He was hard, really hard. It wasn't just a reaction to her smell, or his awareness of her desire. There was a building feeling in the bottom of his stomach, flits of anticipation, and he knew. He'd felt this before. It was early in the drug's affect, but he didn't have time to ponder over why it had taken him so long to notice it to begin with.

"I've got some bad news," he announced, trying not to sound as angry, and damn it, turned on, as he was. She flitted her eyes, dark with lust, up to his, and he swallowed hard as he took in her half-lidded stare.

"I may have miscalculated…our predicament."

"I don't understand. How?"

"Mmm, let's just say, you're not the only one flying high tonight."

"Oh. Fuck…" Elena said, cursing uncharacteristically as she caught on.

"Well, yes, if you're putting it delicately." Damon muttered sarcastically. This was not good.

don't believe the things you tell yourself so late at night

you are your own worst enemy, you'll never win the fight

just hold onto me, i'll hold onto you

it's you and me up against the world. it's you and me.

Let me know what you think, and if I should continue!