Arabian (arabian) wrote,

Fic: Taking Care 1/1

Title: Taking Care
Author: JenniferH (Arabian)
Rating: PG-13 (For impure thoughts and profanity)
Summary: A missing scene from 4.06, "We All Go A Little Mad Sometimes." How Elena went from a drop in the lake to waking up nice and dry in her bed.
Word Count: 1,463
Disclaimer: The Vampire Diaries, and all her characters as presented, belong to Kevin Williamson, Julie Plec, the CW, etc., etc., so on and so forth. ;)
Notes: I just kept thinking of how Damon had to have been the one to get Elena out of her wet clothes. So this. It's not beta-ed, not my best, but I just needed a break from real life tonight.


Everything was quiet under the water, but the shock of the flames beginning to immolate Elena combined with the cool of the water knocked her out long enough that he was able to come up with a quick solution to keep her from following in her bio-mommy’s wake.

Working with what he had, Damon tied Elena to the sharp, thin edge of an underwater rock with twisted trash bags thanks to the litterbugs of Mystic Falls. Drowning wasn’t a fun way to un-die, but it’s not like she wasn’t familiar with the process and at this point, he didn’t have much choice. After making sure she was secure… under the bridge, under the water and directly out of the sunlight, he headed back to dry land. Cursing the water because he really hated swimming. Cursing Klaus for taking off with Elena in the first place. Cursing Connor for not dying in that explosion. Cursing Stefan for expecting him to be the hero when his baby brother was much, much better at it.

Damon reached the bridge, figuring that when she threw the ring in the water she was standing roughly where she’d been when he first showed up. He hoped so anyway because finding the damn thing was gonna be enough of a bitch already. Standing on the railing, he looked straight down and then dove. Miracle of miracles, he’d gauged right. After less than a minute of searching, he found her ring. If that wasn’t a sign that the girl wasn’t meant to “die” on this bridge, then it was at least some truly stupendous luck.

Returning to her plastic-bag-trussed-up form, Damon reached for her hand and drew it to him. Carefully pulling the ring from his pocket, he slipped it onto her finger. Ripping the make-shift ropes off, he wrapped one arm around her waist and began to swim to the surface. As they broke from the water, a surge of happiness filled him at the sun shining on both of them, her skin pure and unblemished by the rays.


No one else was at her house when they arrived, surprising him a bit, but he figured that the others were cleaning up the remnants of their plan. Damon carried Elena up to her bathroom, laying her gently in the bathtub. He knew if it was him, he certainly wouldn’t want his wet clothes slopping all over the furnishings.

“Elena,” he said her name, tenderly stroking her cheek. She didn’t stir. Standing up, he weighed his options. He could just leave her in here until she woke up or he could divest her of her clothing and get her into bed, all nicely wrapped up under her covers. He reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone and gave it a shake, despite knowing what would happen after his swim. Sure enough, drops of water flew through the air.


With a sigh, Damon accepted that unless Stefan, Caroline or Bonnie showed up anytime soon, this was on him. Dropping the phone, he shrugged and slipped his quite uncomfortably wet jacket off and let it fall to the floor. His feet were bare; his shoes and socks in the trunk of the car. Grabbing a towel, he headed into Elena’s bedroom and rummaged for a change of clothes in the emergency bag he’d pulled from his car. A minute later, his old garments were bundled up in a plastic bag, and he was fresh and dry. Familiar with the items of Elena’s drawers, he grabbed a top and some comfy pajama bottoms before heading back into the bathroom. “Wakey-wakey,” he told her still form. She did not awaken.

“Fuck it.” He was not going to leave her lying in a bathtub in wet clothes. Bending down, Damon sat her up, resting her against the stall. He pulled her shoes off, and then sparing one more glance at her lax face, he reached for the snap of her jeans. Undoing it, he unzipped them and then slid his hands under the waistband and behind her rear. Telling himself to not enjoy the feel of her ass in his hands, he tugged the jeans down her legs… and enjoyed the feel and view all the way down.

Damon threw the jeans over his shoulder and reached for the towel. He started at her feet, gently massaging and drying her puckered toes. Moving up her legs, he ran the soft, thick material up and down her flesh, rubbing it dry with slow, circular motions. Every few seconds, he looked up at her face to see if she was any closer to waking.

Pausing in his administrations, he found his gaze drawn to her panties. They were white and wet and pretty transparent. Swallowing deeply, he debated his next move. He could just put the pj bottoms over the wet material, but that would be uncomfortable for her. Or he could just take them off, which would be… uncomfortable for him. Cursing under his breath, he wondered when the hell he’d gotten so whipped that he wasn’t even allowing himself the opportunity to enjoy the fruits of his labor.

With a grimace, he decided to compromise by patting the underwear down with the towel. It was still plenty uncomfortable, especially when he pulled her forward and rubbed the towel over her rear, but at least it made him feel less like a degenerate. But his task was not complete. Setting the towel down again, he slipped her sweater off, and then fingered the bottom of her top. With another exhalation, he pulled it over her head. This time he didn’t even pretend that he wasn’t going to enjoy the view. And was there ever a view. Like the panties, the bra was transparent, a filmy, white material that offered absolutely zero coverage.

He tilted his head to the side, taking in the most perfect pair of breasts he’d ever had the pleasure to gaze upon. Letting his eyes roam over her body, they traveled from her breasts, to the indentation of her waist over those still-somewhat transparent undies and then down the long, long mileage of leg under his perusal. Damon took his time, smiling as he memorized every inch of her that he could see.

Until he saw the ring that he’d placed upon her finger. The ring that his brother had put there first. His smile slipped, his eyes closed and he sighed. With a quick shake of his head, he got back to business. Picking the towel up again, he dried her torso, back and arms. He was about to pat down her bra, but quickly realized that it had to go. It was still too wet and clammy, and keeping that on under a dry top would just be stupid. Besides, it wasn’t as if he couldn’t see it all anyway.

Forcing himself to be impersonal, Damon reached behind and undid the clasp, keeping his eyes on her face and not peeking because seeing it all or not, the material as transparent as it was still was a barrier between his eyes and her completely nude flesh. It wasn’t much, but it allowed him to feel less like he was taking advantage of her, rather just taking care. Setting the bra down, he grabbed the dark purple tank top he’d grabbed and with eyes closed, by feel, he slipped it over her head pulling it down. If his fingers slid across any part of her breast, it was entirely accidental.

Somewhat decent now, Damon grabbed the towel and pulled her to him as he began to massage her long hair as dry as possible. Reaching over, he picked up the long-tooth comb on the shower shelf and ran it through her tangled hair, grateful that since she was so out of it she couldn’t feel the pain.

Finished, he leaned her back against the shower wall and grabbed the pj bottoms, flinging them over his shoulder. Damon rose and bent down again, picking her up and carried her into the bedroom. Once she was on the bed, he maneuvered her pajamas on and straightened her top. He stepped back, looking her over. She looked clean and comfortable, nice and dry.

Damon picked her up in his arms once more and nudged the bed covers aside with his knee before setting her down. Brushing her hair behind her ear, he tucked her in, taking a moment to just appreciate that she was still here. So close, it had been so close. But she was here now and safe. Glancing to the bathroom, he almost went in there to clean up, but looking back to Elena, he decided that clean-up could wait. He wanted to be here for her when she woke up.

Tags: damon salvatore, damon/elena, elena gilbert, fic, the vampire diaries

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