The Devil's Angel

The searing pain filled scream halted Damon in his tracks to a sudden stop. Spinning around, he concentrated in the direction of the sound, listening hard to find her. He knew she was near. He was following her scent. Something he should have done without bothering to go out to Klaus although her scent was stronger there.

Naturally it led him there. Weaving through the forest trees, he finally found her. Sitting against the tree trunk with her head leaning forward and dropped in her hands, her delicate fingers clutching her hair tightly. He could see her shaking body.

He approached her slowly. “Mia,” he called her softly. Her head suddenly snapped up as she heard his voice and the sight of him standing there with wrinkled forehead, his brilliant blue eyes worried, pinched her heart in a completely different way.

“Damon,” she acknowledged him, choking back the tears that were already falling. Despite her trying, her voice came out rough and cracked. She wiped the tears with the back of her hand before lowering her head again.

Seeing her tears and heart wrenching voice touched parts of him, he didn't knew existed. Her presence alone was enough to reawaken the parts he had buried deep inside but her tears, her pain was an unimaginable torture for him.

He knew that he didn't want that. He didn't want to feel it. That was the reason he had locked himself up because every time he met her, she peeled off that layer without any effort.

Right now, however, the need to be with her, the need to comfort her and keep her safe surpassed any rational thoughts in him. He closed the distance between them in three long determined strides to kneel in front of her.

Hesitantly, he extended his hands to take hers, he gently removed them from her face. Placing her small hands in his one, firm but gentle grip, he took her chin and tipped her face up making her look at him.

With her face leveled to his, she slowly opened her eyes to meet his. She took a moment to just look at him while he scrutinized her face, looking for any injury but the pain was only in her eyes.

Another sob wrecked her body, “Where were you, Damon?” she asked, her voice strained from crying. Damon clenched his eyes shut as if in pain and then opened them slowly, “I wish I were here. I’m sorry, it took so long,” he said, his own voice on the edge of breaking from all the emotions he was feeling.

She gave him a small sad smile with a nod and dropped her eyes again, shutting the window, through which he was trying to read her. He stood up, “What can I do?” he asked, a hint of desperation lacing his voice.

“Stay,” she requested, looking up at him again. “Please. Stay.” Damon’s breath caught in his throat as he obliged by sitting beside her. She snuggled close to him, resting her head on his shoulder which reminded Damon of Klaus’ comment and anger overtook him.

“Klaus,” he hissed in a low voice. She nodded, “He knows who I am,” she murmured. “What?” he asked in disbelief. She took a deep breath and straightened herself. After some silent moments, she told him of her encounter with ease and comfort, something only he was able to provide and offer.

“They stop the greater evil from consuming the world. I don’t see any evil,” she said after finishing her story. “Yeah, except Klaus,” he snorted. “I don’t want it, Damon. This type of life. A duty, a responsibility. I can’t. I’m not ready. Hell, I’m not even capable. I’m a cry baby, I’m always crying, even at little things. How am I supposed to save the world?” she mocked and shook her head.

Damon smiled at her taking a minute while contemplating his answer, “just listen, ok?” “Hmm,” “Destiny…is not something to be desired or avoided. You can’t fight it, you know. The quicker you accept it, the easier it is for you to…find yourself,” he pointed at her with a wave of his hand, “Isn't that what you wanted. To find yourself, to…recognize, to remember everything that you've forgotten?”

She thought hard about his question as he looked at her and then she gave him a single nod. “So, it doesn't matter,” he continued, “what you are, a vampire, a werewolf, witch, angel…God, you could be a sparkle fairy for that is but deep down,” he pointed his index finger to her heart and Mia inhaled sharply but Damon was oblivious to her reaction as he continued, “inside of it all, it’s the same thing. It’s you and it’s special. See, it’s not about what you are, it’s about what you’re made of.”

He finished with a sigh and looked at her expectantly waiting for her to acknowledge that she understood him. Mia chuckled nervously, still reeling from his touch. “Who knew you could be so…philosophical?” she sniffed. “Told ya, you’ll ruin me,” he smirked and winked at her. She laughed, “Now, that’s more like it.”

He stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans and then offered it to lift her up. “Shall we?” he smirked. Mia looked at him for a second and with a smile nodded and took his hand.

“Can I…ask you something,” she started but averted her gaze to the ground. He squeezed her hand in encouragement and she completed her sentence by settling for the word, “personal?”

He looked at her hard, trying to figure her out. He nodded, unsure of himself. “Why haven’t you accepted it…your fate, I mean?” Damon’s eyes widened at her direct question but he controlled his voice before speaking, “I don’t…fight it. I've accepted my fate, my life, my destiny. It’s my brother who hasn't,” he shook his head slowly, “he still thinks he is a petty human. I believe in my powers, my strength and I revel in it,” he shrugged casually.

“If you accepted you fate and believed in it, you wouldn't think of yourself as monster, you know? “she continued, trying to get to know him better or confirm what she already knew about him.

Others may not see it but she could. She didn't know how people could miss that gleam in his eyes, his magnificent eyes were a truly a window to his soul and then she remembered the shield that went up sometimes in them and it made her wonder, maybe it was her who could see the emotions in those deep blue eyes.

Her thoughts were interrupted by him, his voice having no emotion in it, “No, this is what I am. I am a murderer and I accept it,” he said in a final tone, making clear that the topic was closed for discussion.

“You’re wrong,” she whispered and moved past him. He didn't want to talk about it but her comment stirred something in him and the words left him before he could stop them. “How do you even put up with this? How are you not disgusted by the fact that I kill people for fun?” he asked in a ridiculous tine.

Mia stopped and turned around to face him. She started at him for a moment before replying and he stared right back, “Because I accept it,” she shrugged, “I accept your fate, Damon. As a vampire. I accept the fact that you are one and you need blood to survive. It’s survival. It’s no fun, no joy. It’s life,” she gestured in the air between them, “that blood gives you life. It’s what natural to you like it’s very natural for humans to consume meat. Nobody questions it, except for the vegetarians, maybe,” she said a little harshly than she intended to.

“But I could be better. I could be like Stefan,” he challenged, “I could take animal blood,” he raised his eye brows and crossed his arms. Mia’s eyes blazed at his tone and his inability to see the good in him.

She clenched her fists and took a step forward, staring hard into his eyes. “Stefan’s not good that way because he doesn't accept it either. That’s why you do have a better control and that’s the reason you’re not ripper and leave someone breathing,” she paused to calm herself but she also needed the last words to be out.

“That’s why you stopped with me. The reason that I’m alive is because you accept it to a degree and he doesn't at all. It’s just like you said, your nature is not what you have to fight against. If you embrace it completely, Damon, you’ll see that you’re not all darkness but…”

Damon snorted and gave a fake a crooked smile, “Darkness suits me, Mia. It’s what I’m made of. Light…it’s meant for people like you. Pure, beautiful, innocent creatures. It doesn't suit me. And who’s been telling you these ripper tales?”

“I spent the last whole week with the girls, remember? You were just…” she offered and turned to leave. Damon’s words stuck in her mind kept replaying themselves with an extra emphasis on pure and beautiful. Her heart gave a little squeeze every time she replayed it.

The entire ride back home was quiet. “Thanks,” she mumbled before getting out. Though she ruined the evening with her question resulting in an argument. She knew she felt better because of him. She nodded when he didn't reply and went inside.

Damon drove away, reflecting upon her words. Why did she so desperately wanted to make him see the good in him? He didn't wanted the goodness, the care, the feelings or the light. Oh! The light. How it reminded him of her radiance and purity and now, she could be some angel.
Was it true, that he didn't want that light? He was sure as hell it was, then why didn't he find the courage to tell her about Enrique.

Why couldn't he tell her about her soul mate and that she could meet him and possibly have her memories back. Did he really didn't want to let her go? He shook his head to clear off these thoughts. She just didn't want him to think of himself as a monster, nothing more, but why, he thought? He wouldn't let those feelings get to him. He wouldn't let it take control and leave him broken again.

He’ll tell her about Enrique the next time they’ll meet. He would make himself feel less knowing that every time he cared for someone, he ended up hurt, either they die or chose someone else over him.

And if given a choice he knew that Mia would chose Enrique not that she had to choose anyway given she never probably saw him that way. Just like Stefan said about Elena, they had a history together. Damon didn't know how serious Mia’s history with Enrique was but it was a history nevertheless.