A/N: So this idea was swirling around in my head after last episode and not letting me get anything else accomplished till I got it out there. (If any of you are reading Twisted, I swear the next chapter is coming soon, tonight or early tomorrow, promise!) Would love to hear what you think!

Disclaimer: Still don't own any of it :(

Elena knew something was wrong. Stefan hadn't shown his face yet that morning. Not that she was really complaining, but she found it odd since he had been her constant shadow ever since the disastrous night with Klaus.

And she couldn't get a hold of Damon. She grabbed her phone and hit the speed dial button again only to have it go straight to voicemail… again. She ran a hand through her hair in frustration before grabbing her keys and heading downstairs, yelling a quick goodbye to Jeremy who had holed himself up in his room.

The quick drive to the boarding house set her nerves on edge. She knew Damon had said not to come over, but she felt that she didn't have a choice. She knew something was going on and she wasn't about to be left out of the loop again.

She pulled up, not seeing anything out of the ordinary as she got out and made her way to the big front door. She didn't bother knocking, but hesitated a moment before completely entering, thinking she heard voices coming from one of the other rooms.

She started to quietly shut the door when a gut wrenching cry of agony echoed through the house, freezing her blood. She stood frozen for a long moment before the realization that it was Damon's voice hit her like a fist to the stomach and she was running, heedless of the obvious danger that she was hurtling towards.

She spun around the corner into the den and skidded to a stop, her breath catching in her throat at the sight before her. Damon sat roped and chained to a chair in front of the fireplace, his head slumped forward, his chest heaving and his gray shirt from the night before torn and completely blood soaked.

At the sound of her breath catching, he looked up, his blue eyes going wide and his fists clenching as a thousand different emotions flitted across his face. "Elena, get out of here," he wheezed, straining weakly against his restraints, his gaze darting around the room.

The long curtain on the window suddenly whipped back, seemly of its own accord, and the blinding morning sunlight flooded the room. Damon's entire body tensed as smoke started to roll off the exposed skin on his arms and his face, ripping another agonized scream from him and kicking Elena into action. She ran across the room, snapping the fabric back over the window and spinning, breathing hard.

"Damon, who did this?" she asked, starting to move towards him until something slammed into her, knocking her to the floor.

"Hey, Elena," a vaguely familiar voice said above her.

She looked up and gasped, scrambling back. "Mason?"

"Come on, Mason," Damon said slowly, his head falling back against the high back of his chair, his classic smirk in place. "You know you're having way too much fun with me to get distracted now."

"You kidding me, Damon? This is perfect." He reached down and picked up the fire poker from the floor, twirling it as he took a step towards Elena. "You know what I want."

Damon glared at him, his icy gaze practically radiating hate. "If you touch her—"

Mason laughed. "You'll what? Kill me again?"

When he suddenly reached down and grabbed her leg, Elena gasped, kicking at him as he pulled her closer, resting the point of the poker against her stomach. "I'm waiting, Damon," he said with a smile, "though not very long."

Damon's face twisted for a second then hardened. "Fine! Fine. I'm sorry! Now let her go."

Mason stood, "We'll work on the sincerity of that later."

The poker clattered to the ground and Elena was suddenly staring at nothing. She looked around frantically, but saw nothing as she scrambled to her feet. Her gaze landed on Damon and she let out a long sigh, hurrying to his side, her hands immediately starting to work on the blood slick chains around him.

"What are you doing here, Elena?" Damon asked in a tired voice, his head dropping to his chest again.

"I was worried. You weren't answering my calls." She dropped one set of chains and started working on the ropes around his wrists and the arms of the chair.

"And, of course, your first instinct is to barge into a house full of vampires."

She glanced up at him, biting at her lip. "How are you doing?"

"Just swell, Elena. Thanks for asking."

She rolled her eyes, still picking at the knots. It took her another ten minutes and a knife before she had him completely free. When she pulled the last chain from around his chest she saw him slump slightly before he caught himself, his arms shaking as he propped himself up.

"I'll go get you some blood," she said, turning to head to the basement.

"We're out," he said with a grimace as he ran a hand over his chest. "Rebekah cleaned us out yesterday."

Elena stopped where she was, racking her brain. "What about Caroline?"

He shook his head and tried to stand. She saw him stumble and his knees start to buckle and ran forward, slipping an arm around his waist for support, feeling the blood on him start to seep into her own shirt.

She helped him over to the sofa, falling into it with him, and he eased away from her so they were no longer touching. "Go home, Elena. Mason could come back and you can't be here when that happens."

She shook her head. "No way. I'm not leaving you here like this." An idea started flitting around in her head that she couldn't believe she was even thinking of entertaining. She tried to think of any alternative but came up empty. They had no idea how much time they had and there was no other quick option. She shifted slightly on the leather cushion so she could face him and slipped out of her jacket. "Damon, you need blood."

His eyes immediately snapped to her, taking in the determined set of her jaw and the jacket she had just dropped to the floor. "Unless you have an emergency blood bag stored somewhere on you, the answer is no fucking way."

"You said yourself that you didn't know when Mason was coming back." She smiled slightly. "You just got barbequed. Let me do this."

His breath quickened slightly and his eyes dropped from hers, roaming down her face, lingering for a millisecond on her lips before fixing on her throat. "You don't know what you're offering, Elena," he said softly, his voice breathy.

She scooted closer to him on the couch, pulling her long silky hair away from her neck. "I'm staying, so it's up to you whether you'll be strong enough to protect me or not when Mason comes back." It was a low blow, and she knew it, but she didn't want to see him hurting anymore. And she couldn't stomach the idea of seeing him in that chair again.

He made a sound, almost like a growl, and then he was suddenly pressing her down into the cushions. She gasped at the sudden movement, aware of every single inch of herself that was pressed against him, something she hadn't thought through moments before when she had offered herself up.

One of his hands slipped into her hair, cradling her head as he gazed down at her, his expression heated. "I won't take much," he said, his eyes boring into hers. Her heart picked up even more and she thought it might beat out of her chest. He ran his thumb over her cheek. "Just relax, Elena. It won't hurt if you relax."

He slowly lowered his head, his hot breath hitting the column of her throat and she gasped, shifting slightly under him, clenching her thighs as she felt heat pool between her legs.

His hand in her hair clenched and he froze, just breathing against her for a long moment. When she didn't move again, he finally let out a long breath, his lips grazing her skin as he nuzzled up her throat. When she felt his other hand skim up her side, she couldn't suppress the small moan that escaped her, her breath turning heavy.

"Christ, Elena," he panted into the crook of her neck. "That isn't helping at all."

"I know," she gasped, her voice shaking slightly. "Just do it, Damon." She reached up and ran her own fingers through his hair, surprised by just how fine and soft it was, as she pulled him closer.

His arm slipped around her, pressing her even tighter into him and his lips parted. She felt the moist heat of his mouth and the quick swipe of his tongue and then the brush of fangs the moment before they pierced her skin.

She gasped, arching into him, and he froze, his grip clenching. She had expected more pain and when it didn't come she felt the unconscious tenseness and anxiety she had been holding onto slip away. His lips move in a smile against her and then he took his first long draw.

Elena couldn't stop the cry that ripped from her throat as pleasure shot through her. He settled himself more firmly against her, allowing her to fully feel his erection and she brought one leg up, pressing him closer, wanting, needing, more.

"Damon," she panted, completely overloaded by the swirl of emotions and barely able to form a coherent thought as he moaned into her, his arm around her clutching so tight it was almost painful. Each languid, caressing move of his mouth against her as he slowly drew her blood pushed her body closer and closer to release until she was practically whimpering with it, unable to catch her breath, and clinging to his back like her life depended on it.

He pressed against her core and she thought she was going to explode, her entire body on fire. She couldn't deny this. Not anymore. Whatever spark had been between them was consuming her faster than anything ever had in her entire life.

He abruptly pulled away, his forehead falling against her face as he breathed heavily into her ear, his entire body heaving with the strain of letting her go. She went limp with disappointment, her hands stilling on him as another gasp escaped her, this one filled with longing.

"Elena," he breathed, his voice doing things to her that his body had been seconds before. He pulled back slightly so he could meet her hooded gaze and she could see the veins slowly retreating from his face, his eyes clearing rapidly to their pure blue and white. She could feel his breath on her lips as his gaze drifted to them and she felt her own eyes wandering over his face, so open and vulnerable with longing that her breath caught. He hovered over her so close she could practically feel his lips on hers and wanting it so badly it was almost a physical pain.

But she hesitated a moment too long and a second later he was off her, standing ten feet away and gazing at her with the most heart wrenching expression she had ever seen until she watched the mask drop back over his features, hiding everything from her again.

"You all right?" he asked in a low voice, not moving to approach her again.

She fell back onto the couch, gazing at the ceiling and fighting down the raging sense of loss that washed over her and threatened to consume her and knew she had no one to blame but herself. She was in love him. She was anything but all right.

So there you go! Let me know if ya liked it, or if you didn't, that's cool too ;)