Hey! *Spoiler Alert* Wasn't that a crazy season finale? Still processing it all. Delena fans must be in heaven! My predictions for Season Three include Damon and/or Stefan bringing back to 'life' Elijah and the rest of the original family, Caroline and Tyler causing inter-species angst and Bonnie disappearing mysteriously from the show along with Matt (OK, that last one isn't a prediction, rather a wishful thought!) Also, if Jeremy can see the dead-undead, does that mean Jenna might put in an appearance? And, my final thought for now, Alaric needs to get his own story line rather than running around helping everyone. He was adorable with Jeremy!

OK. Warning: This story will contain Slash, Vamcest ;) It takes place towards the end of season two, so there will be general spoilers. It will be a short story, just a few chapters I think. Please review!

I have learned to live dead. To walk the earth without a heartbeat. Without companionship. Alone in an every changing world. It has been no simple feat to survive this long. Being undead isn't for the faint of heart.

But what choice did I have in the matter? My brother changed my destiny unequivocally, irrevocably on the day he decided my fate. My own beloved, younger brother chose immortality for me. Damned me to an existence that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Who, for over a century, has been Stefan.

Existing amongst the living. Alongside breathing, laughing, crying humans. Humans who love, hate, grow old, die. For many years I kept it 'turned off'. Didn't allow myself to think or feel like a human. It made it so much easier to live amongst mortals. To kill them. To feed on them. To use them. It made it possible to be dead in a world that was so alive.

However, one vestige of human emotion remained throughout the passing of time. Anger. My anger was born on the day I died. An all abiding, unquenchable rage that fed me for decades. The only human emotion I allowed. That all encompassing, burning fury made it possible to endure the passing of the years. Alone.

I should have known that Mystic Falls would the place where it would end. Back to the beginning. It appears that Santayana got it right- those who don't learn from their mistakes are bound to repeat them. By allowing myself to feel again, to love another, I open myself up to possibilities. It is by loving her that I will, once again, love my brother. Only to re-learn the age-old lesson. Love causes pain. Love ends in death. That is what love is.

I, alone, feel his suffering. The hurt he denies. He has moved through the world treating everyone as the enemy. Throughout the decades he has used and discarded humans. He embraced his vampire self a very long time ago in order to survive. Self-preservation. His actions, his outward façade were carefully designed and perfected over the years. To repel others. To avoid complications. He makes it difficult to love him.

I love him because I made him who he has become. I alone am responsible for his anger, his self-loathing, his bitterness, his enduring unhappiness. I recognize that his hatred for me was born of his love for Katherine. And I understand that, deep down, he will never forgive me. And yet I also know this-he needs me.

And I know his secret. The secret that is quickly becoming an un-secret. Damon has allowed himself to care. And this knowledge frightens me. Not because of possibly losing Elena. But because this emergent human emotion will destroy him. This human failing will leave him vulnerable, open to harm.

I get that he loves Elena. She embodies all that was good in Katherine. And Elena hasn't rejected him. Despite everything. And by extension of his feelings for Elena, he feels protective of the humans surrounding her. He will do anything for this human.

He will die for her. And, although we would both give up immortality to keep Elena safe, it will be him that succeeds. In the end, I will lose my brother. The very thing I tried to prevent all those years ago. We will come full circle.