Hi y'all. It's been a while.

I'm just gonna say this straight: I fucked up. In 2014, an opportunity to publish fanfiction as LEGITIMATE FICTION came into my life, and I took it. I pulled down stories and put them on amazon, and after it was done, I couldn't get out of the contract. No matter how much screaming we did about the US only clause, there wasn't anything we could do. Then a miracle happened: the publishing division CLOSED and all of us got our rights back!

So I'm putting the stories back where they belong:

HERE

For free.

Content Ratings restored.

I'm so sorry. I was selfish, and blind, and I know a lot of y'all are pissed off. You have every right.

MBT will be fully restored, original author notes and all. For Unthinkable, Sounds of Tomorrow, and Birthday Girls Love Boys Night, I'm gonna get you as close as I can, but some of my files are missing. Karma, I guess. I'm not even gonna tweak punctuation or anything that's going to embarrass the living fuck out of me and the writer I am now, because this was where we started. Where *I* started - clumsy and figuring it out, and with your endless support.

I couldn't have gotten to where I am today without you. And I'm so sorry I took these stories down.

Warning about Auto In: DOWNLOAD THE HELL OUT OF IT! It's being reworked as an original fiction, but I'm changing the gender of the main characters, and at some point, if push comes to shove, I may have to pull for copyright because so much is being kept.

Again: DOWNLOAD AUTO IN! I don't care – PLEASE! Keep it as it is now, because it is in a phoenix state, and I want you guys to be able to have BOTH: The original, and the re-roll with a new plotline.

Thus concludes my long apology, and without further ado:

Your story.

-goldnox

Prologue: The Beginning of the End

Matt's truck screeches to a halt in front of a nondescript, gray building, the name Don's Storage only half-lit so the word 'rage' flickers at me like a warning. I throw open the door before I remember to unlock my seatbelt, tugging and yelling at the polyester keeping me chained inside. I scramble for the button to free myself, but Matt is already there, batting my hands away. With a heavy click that is louder than it should be, I'm loose.

Half-stumbling from the truck, I barely register Matt's voice as he tells me to run, that there isn't much time. All I can see is a door. Behind it is everything.

A burned body that stole the endless years of my beloveds as soon as silver-coated wood plunged through metal chains. A man that was a friend, a teacher, a guardian, and now a hunter, stronger than the hate he holds and more powerful than the fear that should keep me away. I can't turn back. He's not the only one inside.

Somewhere in this maze of rejected belongings, secrets, and dusty cast-offs is Damon, waiting to die. Alone.

I'm two steps closer to my goal when the door bursts open. My breath vanishes, waiting for the first sign of color that will write the outcome of the encounter. Shiny, sleek blonde hair and an ancient voice that shakes me to my core because I may actually deserve her animosity? Or spiky brown, cut too long ago and never paid enough attention to, shaggy and laid back and the opposite of everything Alaric is now?

I wait, and it is crisp black that meets me. Running with every ounce of strength I can summon, I slam into his leather-clad chest, breathing in bourbon and something burnt. We're a tangle of arms pulling each other closer and shuffling in through the doorway, my tears soaking his shirt and his lips brushing my crown too hard and too quick.

"What are you doing here?" he whispers, his voice angry and scared, his arms hugging me even though I know he wishes he could push me away. "Take her back," he says to Matt. "She doesn't need to be here, see this. It's not safe."

"Where exactly is she supposed to go, Damon? This is where she wanted to be."

Another kiss to my head, a curse on a sigh; his arms squeezing my shoulders while I wind mine under his jacket, digging my nails into his back to bring him just a little bit closer. Minutes, that's all he has. Minutes.

"Stefan is on his way," Matt says, and I hide my face and breathe in Damon, memorizing the way his hand strokes my hair while Matt relays my entire phone conversation with a gentle detachment. How I explained to Stefan that even though I never un-fell for him, I couldn't leave Damon alone. That he deserved to have someone with him, someone he cared about, at the end. That Stefan promised to get here as quick as he could and to tell his brother he'd see him soon.

Damon only nods, but his chest is shaky. His pulse is too fast, and his breathing isn't sure and steady like I need it to be. He's scared, I realize, and I can't stop the tears rushing from my eyes.

For him. For Stefan. For Caroline and Tyler and Alaric and Abby, for Bonnie and Matt and Jeremy, for Liz, and Mayor Lockwood, and just everyone, absolutely everyone.

"Where's Mr. Saltzman?" Matt asks, his voice hushed as though he's afraid that speaking Ric's name will bring him storming into our presence.

"Went running after Rebekah after he staked Klaus. Though I doubt he's just going to leave the body, so he's probably going to be showing up here any second."

Damon sounds surprisingly calm considering everything, and it scares the crap out of me. The worse things get on the inside, the more composed he acts on the outside until it explodes in every direction. If he goes dead still, I'll break. He shouldn't have to act so bravely, just because I'm here. God, I took that from him too, didn't I?

"Why don't you go check the back door, keep an eye out?" Damon's body shifts like he pointedly jerked his head. "And if you see anything, don't feel the need to scream about it. I'll hear you."

"Right." Matt pauses, and then there's only the quiet sound of his footsteps shuffling away from where Damon and I are huddled against the wall.

"Elena, look at me," Damon whispers, and my whole body is racked with sobs.

No one says my name like he does, and I can't lose that. Lose this. He can't die. He just…can't.

"I know you can hear me." His fingers under my chin raise my head until my eyes meet his. They're so perfectly blue, so bright and clear and have seen so much, more than I will ever comprehend. There's so much life in them, there is no way they can ever dim. It's wrong.

I'm still lost in them when I startle because they disappear for a moment—my brain not registering that his hands are on my face, his thumbs brushing over my eyes to wipe my tears away.

"Breathe, Elena, I need you to breathe," he says.

I shake my head; my hands clenched into fists in the front his shirt. "I can't," I choke out, and he smirks. It's not a real one, but it's still there and I need it, need him to make jokes and flirt with me and piss me off and touch me like only he does.

"You can, and you're going to."

"Damon, I—"

"I'm going to die, Elena," he says, and my world flickers. His hands on my shoulders keep me steady. He must know I'm moments from collapsing. "Me, Stefan, Caroline, we're all going to die, but you aren't. You are going to be fine, live a long life, and take care of Jeremy, and everything is going to be okay. You understand me?"

I shake my head because I don't understand. How am I supposed to live when everything, everyone, is dead?

"Promise me," he says, and I nod though I don't know what I'm agreeing to. A huff of breath escapes him. "Good." Damon pulls me into him, wrapping his arms around me, and I never want to let go. Please, just let it all be a mistake. Let it be a lie. "You're going to be fine," he whispers, but I don't know if it's for him or me at this point. It doesn't matter.

He's in the middle of a long kiss goodbye to my hair when his whole body tightens, somehow pulling away and curling protectively around me, and all at the same time.

"Stefan's here," he whispers, and then the door opens. "Glad you could make it, brother."

At the sudden lightness of his voice, a choked half-laugh, half-sob escapes me, and Damon disentangles us.

"Stefan," I breathe on a sigh, and then let go of Damon to hug his brother around his middle. It's still familiar, the way his arms envelope me, but it's different, too. My head knows where to lie on his chest, finding his heartbeat with a rhythm I know as well as my own. But his muscles are a little bigger, his hold a little stronger from all the months he spent with Klaus. I pull away faster than he wants, but I can't hold one and not the other. Not anymore.

I'm wiping at my eyes when both their heads snap toward the back of the building. Fear strangles me, locking my limbs until they take a step at the same time, moving to either side of me.

"No!" My hands shoot out and land on each of their chests, pushing back to save them, but I've never been strong enough.

Damon looks at his brother, nodding his head toward me. Stefan sighs, and then his gaze locks with mine: those pleading green eyes that have convinced me to forgive him for everything I never wanted to, but couldn't help but look past anyway.

"Elena—"

"No, Stefan!" His head jerks back. I look to his brother, and a grin is pulling at the edge of Damon's mouth. "I don't know what you're smirking at. Coward." Damon's eyes flare dangerously, but I don't care. "Both of you," I tell them. "Running off to fight a fight you can't win instead of facing the possibility that tomorrow, you could both still be alive. Just stop!"

Damon throws my hand off his chest, stalking past me before I can stop him.

I tear my eyes from his back, focusing on Stefan. "Please…" I choke out, but when his jaw hardens, I know it's no use.

"You coming, brother?" Damon calls from the hallway. I turn to face him, his hardened glare the last thing I may ever see from him. "Stay here," he says to me, and then Stefan's marching forward until he's beside his brother. Their backs are the only goodbye I get from either of them as they turn the corner at the end of the hallway.

I fall against the wall, sinking to the floor. They may never come back. And I just let them go.

Something crashes from where they're hidden. I'm on my feet, adrenaline clearing everything from my mind except the need to get to them, to save them somehow, like they've always saved me. I'm running, and there's a roar that sounds like Damon and a grunt that sounds like Stefan, and it hurts, it all hurts so much to hear and not see, and I can't get there fast enough. Two more steps and I'll round the corner—

Something grabs my shirt and flings me back, away; slamming me into the wall I was collapsed against. A sticky warmth spreads over my scalp, and I must be bleeding, but I can't open my eyes to check.

"Finally, a moment alone," a female voice says, and I don't know how to be afraid anymore. All my terror is in a room I can't reach, surrounding two men I can't see. "I didn't think they'd ever step away."

"Rebekah," I whisper, opening my eyes to see her standing over me. "Shouldn't you be running from Alaric?"

"Well, that's the thing..." she says. There's another crash, and then a shout of pain from wherever Stefan and Damon are, and I flinch. Her grin grows. "I don't want to run anymore."

Stefan and Damon are losing, moments away from dying at the hands of a monster no one can stop. No one, but me, I realize.

"Do it," I breathe. "Do it, now. Fast. Please, Rebekah."

She crouches down in front of me, her head tilted. "Why should I make it so easy for you? You deserve to suffer."

Panic claws at my chest, because she's waiting for them to die. All to torture me until the final moments before she kills me anyway.

"You think they won't try to stop you?" I say. "You think that one of them isn't probably listening to every word?" I shake my head, even though the pain is torture. "Don't waste the chance. I didn't. Not when I daggered you."

Her face shifts and pain explodes in my neck, shredding and pulling, and it hurts, it hurts…

I grit my teeth through my scream, reminding myself that I want this. I have to do this. It's the only way. So I focus on every throb of my life pouring out of my body and into hers, the scratch of her nails in my scalp, her teeth tearing my flesh. Everything is thick and heavy, and it all becomes very, very slow. And then it just stops.

Someone is moving me, but I'm too tired to open my eyes and see who. It won't be long now.

My name, fuzzy and far, and on repeat. I wish it would stop.

Something slams against my chin and my mouth is pried open, hot liquid creeping inside. I don't want it, but I can't remember why. I shove my tongue against it, pushing it against my teeth and locking my throat closed, holding my breath. The arm moves and I spit it out: the blood they're forcing on me.

"Dammit, Elena," Damon says, and the wrist comes back.

I scream, scream no, scream to stop, and it does. I spit again and hands wipe at my face, and when I open my eyes, it's only to find Stefan with tears in his. I glance to his left and Damon is crouched in front of me, blood on his mouth from where he tore into his wrist.

"Stop," I say, my head falling back against the wall. I wince at the pain in my neck, my hand flinching like it wants to cover the wound, but I can't seem to move.

"Elena, let him heal you," Stefan say.

I smile. "Not this time."

"Fuck this," Damon says. "You're not dying today."

"Yes, I am," I tell him. "So you won't."

"Hold her still, Stefan." Damon's teeth cut through flesh as he bites his wrist again.

Stefan's eyes widen. "Damon—"

"No! She's not dying today!" Damon tells him. "I just broke my best friend's neck, again, and there is no reason why we can't get her out of here in the next five minutes before he wakes back up."

"Stefan," I say, turning toward him. "This is what has to happen. Alaric can't be killed any other way, he'll never stop, and you'll never be safe. This is what I want."

"No one cares, Elena!" Damon yells.

"Listen to me..." I reach for Damon's hand with the little strength I have. His fingers slip through mine, squeezing hard enough that it should hurt, but it doesn't. "You are going to be fine, but not if you force me to turn. Don't—" I stop when I don't have any more breath, the vision of blue eyes and black hair blurring. "Don't force me to hate you."

"Elena…" Stefan says, his voice cracking over my name.

"Take care of him," I say to Stefan, squeezing Damon's hand. "He needs you, more than you know."

"I will."

I turn back to Damon, my eyes fluttering closed before I want them to.

It's so close now.

Everything is cold, and warm, and heavy. So heavy.

Soft and dark and smooth.

"Elena?" they say at the same time, one voice stronger than the other, but I'm not sure which.

"Don't…" I gulp a breath, the only breath I need to say this. "Don't feel unloved. Don't feel…"

"What, Elena?" Stefan whispers when I trail off, too tired to say anymore. "Don't feel what?"

"Alone," I breathe, and then I'm just…gone.