(A/N): Some have asked if I plan on doing Damon’s POV… well, perhaps the first bit here will answer that 😉 For the sake of expediency, I may not have edited this as thoroughly as I usually do, so please forgive any mistakes you may find.
Thanks again to Kittyinaz… as I’ve said, I never would have written this without having read her Bella/Damon story. It was the first Twilight/Vampire Diaries crossover I ever read and made me fall in love with the pairing…
“Still it don’t matter
If you won’t listen
If you won’t let it follow you
You just need to heal
Make good all your lies
Move on and don’t look behind”
Poets of the Fall – “Sleep”
Chapter 6: Broken Doll
When he’d first stumbled upon her, Damon had planned on eating her. It’d been lucky that their paths had even crossed and he might’ve consider it to be fate if he believed in that hippie bullshit.
Damon Salvatore made his own fate.
He’d been down in Seattle sampling the local cuisine while exhausting the nightclub circuit. Alcohol, women, and blood were the perfect escape from the downward spiral his life had taken. Over a hundred and fifty years wasted on a fucking bitch that had been using him the whole time. As furious as it made him he was also impotent in his rage. Katherine was long gone – who knew where – and he had no way of exacting his revenge. No way of getting those years back after devoting his undead life to that heinous bitch.
It’d been a rude awakening, opening that fucking tomb and expecting to be reunited with his former lover only to find that she’d played him for a pathetic sap. How long had she been playing him, he wondered. Had the game started while he was human, or after she’d heard of his change? It had likely been the former seeing as how she kept Stefan as a pet too, despite Damon’s absolute devotion to her. He hadn’t been enough for her even then. She was a greedy bitch.
So many useless questions that he may never find the answers to. They’d been running in loop in his head, each one drowning out the previous until he’d snapped and gave in to the urge to run, to escape that godforsaken town. His little road trip had been spur of the moment, but very much needed. Saint Stefan and his little princess Elena had been hovering, judging him under the guise of family or friendship or whatever shit they wanted to call it. As if they really cared.
Neither of them knew what it was to be betrayed on the level Damon had been – to have had the last one hundred and fifty odd years since his change been for nothing. To have devoted his life to a woman he’d thought loved him, but had used him instead, abandoning him to eternity. Alone.
Fuck her, he thought. Fuck all of them.
There was no use dwelling on Stefan, Elena, or that stupid, fucking bitch Katherine. What was done was done and he wasn’t going to cry about it like a little bitch. He’d move on and find a new reason for existing. In the mean time, he’d drink his way across country until he decided to return to Mystic Falls to give Saint Stefan hell. Damon had to make his own fun somehow, after all, and there was nothing more fun than teasing Stefanie to the point where that little vein on his forehead was about to pop. Was it possible for a vampire to have an aneurysm? Well, they’d find out.
Maybe he’d flirt with Elena some more to make his little brother jealous. She was a pretty little thing, too sweet for his tastes, but certainly doable… although he may have to put a bag over her head to keep from strangling her since she was the spitting image of Katherine.
When he’d finally entered the sleepy town of Forks, Damon had still been half drunk from the previous evening. Having seen the name of the town on a map in a random gas station, he remembered thinking that any place named after an eating utensil should definitely be home to some tasty people. Otherwise that was just false advertisement and bad form on their part.
But as his drunk stupor had worn off, Damon had confessed himself disappointed in the Podunk town. There wasn’t even a bar for him to renew his buzz in, for fuck’s sake. At least in Port Angeles there’d been plenty of places to get drunk and find women. Sure, they may have all tasted the same, but if the few annoying girls Damon had crossed paths with near a crappy diner were anything to go by, then the population of Forks would taste like dirt and moss.
Bored, he’d pulled off to the side of the road to walk through the woods. He’d been walking for maybe and hour when the trees slowly began to thin and as he came to the edge, Damon was surprised to see a clearing. It was an ugly, dead space that had probably once been teeming with life. He hovered on the edges, staring into the empty, deadened meadow.
Gritting his teeth, he broke his stare, hating how the clearing reminded him of how he felt inside. Maybe he’d burn it down, he contemplated. Nothing like a little pyrotechnics to brighten up the day. This town surely needed some excitement.
He’d been about to turn back to his car when the clumsy steps of a human approaching caught his attention, freezing him to the spot. Perhaps it was snack time, he thought eagerly.
That was when he saw her. Isabella Swan, though he didn’t know her name at the time, came tripping into the clearing, stumbling into his life. He’d recognized the haunted look in her eyes instantly. He’d watched as she collapsed to her knees, lost to her grief. She was tragically beautiful – long hair swirling in the breeze, wide brown eyes filled with tears as her arms wrapped around her chest to hold herself together.
She looked… wrecked. Absolutely wrecked.
Frowning, Damon found himself fixated as she literally broke in front of him, looking like a gust of wind would shatter her at any moment. She clutched at her chest above her heart as though holding herself together and when she spoke, Damon was surprised at the bitterness under her words.
“You lied. All you ever did was lie.”
Damon watched as this girl fell to pieces in front of him. Unable to look away, he found himself completely entranced by her sorrow, so very familiar to him.
Suddenly, he recalled a line from a book he’d read for laughs, Bram Stoker’s Dracula.
“All over! All over! He has deserted me!”
The line echoed in his head as he stared at her and he frowned, hating that he saw traces of it in the broken girl, hated knowing that it resonated in him as well.
He could smell her tears, hear the stuttering of her heart as she fought for control over her emotions.
Her grief was a mirror of his own and he felt irrationally angry at having to face her, furious that she seemed to have given into her sorrow instead of fighting it. It felt as though she was taunting him, forcing him to witness the pain he’d been denying. Rubbing it in his face.
Infuriated, he’d made to go forward, to kill or drink, he didn’t know, but the wind shifted and he scented the Cold One seconds before he came into the clearing. He’d watched, shocked that the girl knew him. His body became taut as he listened to their exchange, learning that the girl had been abandoned by her own Cold One.
A pet, Laurent had called her. Damon started silently seething. Katherine had treated him like a pet too. Left him as casually as one sheds a coat, letting it drop callously to the floor. And now this girl was going to be trampled, torn to bits because some douche had pulled what Katherine had. If not by Laurent, then by the Victoria character he’d heard mentioned. Her number was up.
Damon stiffened when the Cold One reached out for the girl. He wanted her to fight even though it’d be useless, to rage and shout as he would have done in her place. But instead, he saw her eyes slip close in acceptance, in tired defeat, and she leaned in towards Laurent’s hand.
She looked exhausted and ready for everything to simply end.
I guess I have to do everything myself, he thought, and before he’d even made the conscious decision to do so he was moving to the girl’s side, standing slightly in front of her, sneering, “Not so fast there, Sparkles.”
The poor girl tried to warn him off and now that Damon was closer, he turned to study her further. His first impressions had been right. She looked thin and tired. Her hair was long, but lifeless. She looked like a broken doll. Still, there was beauty there, hidden behind a familiar heartache. She had wide doe eyes, plump lips. She’d be gorgeous if she wasn’t so tragic looking.
There was something about the haunted look to her eyes as she looked up at him, silently pleading that he save himself. She’d been willing to die and had tried to warn him off in the process. She’d tried to save him.
Then he was decided. He’d save her. He’d kill the Cold One and then compel the girl on her merry way – it would be his good deed for the year. For once, he’d be a hero and save the damsel in distress.
Somehow, it felt as though by saving her, he’d be saving himself.
Save her he did. It’d been fun killing someone – it’d been too long since the last time and it was nice to not be yelled at immediately afterwards. When he’d talked with Bella, he’d been pleasantly surprised by the fire that seemed to spark within her. There had been fight in her yet and for some inane reason it’d made him immeasurably glad – eager even. And when his compulsion had failed, he’d been decided.
He was going to keep her.
And the girl, either brave or fool, let him. She’d not had much choice, to be honest. After all, he’d swore to protect her from that Victoria bitch and she certainly couldn’t help herself in that matter. But still, she’d chosen him in the end instead of the cold death she’d been willing to accept minutes before.
Then they’d run into the puppy pals and she’d been faced with another option. The runt was someone she knew, trusted at one time. He could protect her and she wouldn’t have to leave her home.
But again, she’d chosen Damon. And again, Damon felt the stirrings of protectiveness. It was more than feeling sorry for her, more than the fact that she reminded him of himself in many ways. He actually liked her. Sure, the doubt and low self-esteem were annoying, but he recognized those for what they were – scars left behind by that douche she’d dated. There were times, though, that she’d shed those traits, that she’d smile and laugh at him, with him, and she truly looked as beautiful as her namesake promised.
Well, he could take care of those scars. He would show her how to have fun and would be able to kill a Cold One at the same time. A perfect road trip.
But he’d underestimated his feelings for her. Of course he was attracted to her. When he’d been showing her how to dance it’d been an epic cock tease, but one that felt so good, so worth it. He planned on seducing her, not right away because he could tell she was inexperienced, but in the end, it’d be just one more lesson he’d teach her. But then that fucker had cornered her in the hallway, had made her bleed, and Damon’s instincts had surprised no one more than himself.
Protect. Kill. Defend. At all cost.
There’d been no hesitation. Isabella was his and he’d kill anyone who tried to take her from him. After the clean up he brought her safely to their room and Damon found he could not bring himself to regret killing that asshole, not even knowing he’d scared her in the process. The intensity of his emotions were confusing, but he was not one to run away from the unknown.
And Bella, little Isabella Swan… her reaction, her unwavering acceptance of him, had sealed her fate – his fate. Damon was not known to be a friendly sort, but if the last one hundred and fifty some years said anything about him, it was that he was loyal to those he found deserving of it. He’d been mistaken about Katherine and he should’ve known better, but he would not make the same mistake twice. Fool him once, and all that.
No. This time, he’d found someone that had proven herself worthy. Someone that had proved she trusted him, accepted him faults and all. He’d found someone… flawed, but perfect for him. It may be impulsive, but it was a calculated risk. Isabella was worth it.
He’d do it the right way because it was too important to risk screwing up, but Damon had found a new purpose. It’d be a fun game, but also much more than that to him. She didn’t know it yet, but Isabella was his. He was going to make her his, slowly, relentlessly… he’d win her.
As he held her while she slept, protecting her even from her nightmares, he knew that he wasn’t going to let her go. Not ever.
Bella should’ve known better than to hope Damon wouldn’t mention anything about her dream, or the position she found herself in upon awaking.
In her defense, though, their position was just as much his fault as it was hers. Damon really hadn’t been joking when he said he liked to cuddle, or maybe that was not quite the right way to describe it. Truth be told the man was like an octopus, his limbs coiled around her everywhere he could reach. He was lying half on top of her using her – she blushed – breasts as a pillow. Their legs were a tangled mess and Damon’s arms were locked around her, one behind her back with his hand clutching her hip and the other slipping under her shirt to curl under her shoulder, clinging her tightly to him, making her shirt ride up.
He clung to her like a drowning man hangs onto a life preserver. His grip was firm and confident, and when she wiggled some, his hold did not loosen, but instead tightened. It was like he didn’t want to let go of her. For some reason, his arms felt very familiar – comforting, even.
Although, Bella wasn’t completely innocent herself in their intimate pose. She had been lying mostly on her back but was curved towards Damon’s body, one hand lost in his hair and holding him to her, and the other drifting low on his hip, dangerously close to his ass.
He’d been awake, naturally, and his first words were, “Go ahead and cop a feel, mina. You know you want to.”
She’d scoffed and tried to pull away as Damon laughed, holding her tighter as she struggled uselessly.
“Now, now, don’t move. I need my pillows.”
Then he nuzzled her chest, laughing more when she squeaked.
“Relax,” he said. “You know you like it.”
And because she did, Bella went limp on the bed. “Don’t get the wrong idea, big boy,” she huffed.
“Oh, but it feels like a good idea to me, Isabella. Very good, wouldn’t you agree?” he asked, his hands caressing her sides.
Bella let out a startled “Eep!” when Damon’s hand grazed the side of her breast, her body locking up.
“Hey,” Damon said softly, drawing her wide eyes to focus on him. “Calm down. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”
That’s what I’m afraid of, Bella thought miserably.
She had thought that cuddling was the one area she had plenty of experience in. After all the times Edward had snuck into her room to be with her, she’d been confident in snuggling. But not once out all of those nights had he held her like Damon was, as if he couldn’t get close enough to her.
Often times Bella had ended up pressed to Edward’s side with her head on his chest, perhaps an arm around him. If she was lucky, Edward would drape an arm loosely around her shoulders. But there was always a stiffness between them that went beyond Edward’s marble skin. He’d lie frozen next to her like a dead fish, never relaxed or at ease with them touching. Like he was afraid of her.
And God forbid she threw a leg over him. She’d tried that once, gently running her foot against his jean clad leg and then wiggling it between his calves only to have him admonish her for her playfulness.
“It’s not proper, Bella,” he’d said.
She didn’t think it was just her blood that had Edward so uncomfortable with holding her intimately. When he’d told her he was a virgin she’d been pleasantly surprised, fully expecting to hear the opposite. He was over a hundred years old and had never even kissed a girl. Repressed didn’t even cover it, she thought.
Damon would probably call him a prude, and it was only now that Bella would actually agree with that assessment.
There was something to be said, Bella decided as she relaxed in Damon’s arms, for a man with confidence and experience. For a man who embraced his natural urges instead of petulantly ignoring them like a child sticking his fingers in his ears and singing. It was nice, Bella realized, feeling desired for once.
Not that she was at all certain about what was happening between her and Damon. She was confident they were friends – best friends even, if the phrase wasn’t so laughable when considering she was talking about Damon. They definitely had a lot in common and because they related to each other on such a personal level it had made trust an easy commodity to foster between them.
While she was uncertain of what that meant, of whether or not Damon was just playing with her to pass the time, Bella had never thought she’d be able trust someone enough to have a true friend again. Not to mention, a male vampire. Damon had a way of slipping into her life and making himself comfortable. It felt as though he’d been there for years, and he made it seem like he had no intention to leave anytime soon.
Time would tell on that, Bella supposed, but she rather hoped he’d stick around even if his flirting was making her all sorts of flustered and confused.
“What time is it?” she changed the subject.
“A little after two in the afternoon,” he answered, snuggling deeper into her but minding his hands this time. She was a little disappointed at that.
Bella frowned. “And how long have you been awake exactly?”
She felt Damon’s lips curve into a smirk against her. “Awhile.”
Thinking it was best to simply let that one go, Bella pulled away from him and this time, Damon let her go but not without an exaggerated pout and a sigh.
“Really?” she laughed. He looked absolutely ridiculous, collapsed against the bed with his arms still stretching half-heartedly out towards her with his lower lip sticking out a bit. She had the sudden urge to bite it and shook her head to banish the thought, unsure f where it’d come from.
Damon smirked at her like he knew exactly what was running through her head.
Blushing, Bella rushed to her bag and headed into the bathroom, calling over her shoulder. “I’m hungry – get dressed and let’s go get some food.”
She’d just closed the door when she heard Damon respond, sounding suspiciously close to the door she found herself leaning against, “Or we can get undressed and order breakfast in bed, mina… think about it.”
Think about it she did, her heart pounding. It was becoming clear that Damon was going to win whatever game he was playing with her. He was more experienced and more relentless in his flirting, especially after after their talk last night. Persistent wasn’t quite the right way to describe him after their open conversation… determined was more like it.
She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t flattering to be pursued in such a fashion. After months of Edward saying no and letting his rejection seep into her self-image, it made Bella feel almost vindicated to have another pushing her to say yes. As she dressed, she smiled softly. It was nice to have someone show her she was desirable, worth pursuing and fighting for.
Especially a man like Damon who, complicated past and personality aside, was sexy as hell.
“I’m in trouble,” she mumbled to herself as she got ready.
On the other side of the door, she could hear Damon laugh.
Deciding to banish those thoughts away for the day, Bella finished dressing and left the bathroom to find Damon leaning against one of the arm chairs waiting for her. He looked casual in dark jeans, a white t-shirt that clung to him and his leather jacket. Very James Dean.
“We match,” he smirked.
Bella looked down at her outfit and smiled. She’d donned dark jeans and a white t-shirt as well.
“But I don’t have a leather jacket,” she pointed out good-naturedly.
Damon gave her a thoughtful look but didn’t reply. Instead, he stuck out his hand for her, lacing their fingers together and tugging her out of the room and through the hotel.
The next three hours were spent combing through the restaurants and stores in the Venetian Shops. Damon wasn’t quite like Alice, per se, but he glided from designer, high end shops with an ease that clearly stated he was comfortable in the environment. Plenty of times he’d nudge Bella’s chin in a reminder to look up when she’d start gazing at the floor when she’d felt criticizing eyes boring into her.
It was like being out with Edward all over again with the way women, and some men, drooled after Damon and then shot her looks that plainly said she was lacking. For once, she felt like the mind reader, their thoughts echoing in her mind.
What’s he doing with someone like her. He’s way out of her league. Maybe they’re siblings.
But one thing was vastly different. Instead of giving people politely disinterested looks while allowing people to mutter and glare at Bella as Edward had done, Damon pulled no punches. He’d glare back, whisper loud insults on Bella’s ear to be overheard on purpose by the offending parties, causing Bella to giggle.
Damon was very smart and creative with the way he insulted people. Often times, he’d call a saleswoman who’d been rude over to help them, throwing out backhanded compliments like, “My girlfriend needs a skirt the exact shade of your eyeshadow. Clown colors are almost chic these days.”
Or Bella’s favorite, the time a saleswoman wouldn’t leave and tried to insert herself into their conversation about dressing to impress. The girl had said something along the lines that Bella was lucky her brother was trying to help her improve her wardrobe and as she smiled coyly up at Damon he’d turned to the girl with a shark-like grin and said, “Mina is hounded all the time by men. You’re lucky you don’t have to worry about men liking you only for your looks.”
The girl had blinked, not getting it until Bella couldn’t help herself and erupted into giggles right in front of her. Suddenly realizing she’d been insulted, and to her face no less, the girl had flounced away to lick her wounds.
Old Bella would have felt guilty, but New Bella felt vindicated. If these girls were stupid enough to be so blatantly rude to their customers, then they deserved every ounce of Damon’s cutting wit. It wasn’t like Damon was attacking them unprovoked, after all. In fact, it almost felt like he was defending her honor every time he came to her defense. It was pretty sweet, in Damon’s own way, and Bella couldn’t help but feel grateful.
Edward had never once spoken up when people would openly ignore her and flirt with him. He’d been uncomfortable by it, but never took the situation into his own hands to stop it. He’d just accepted it as normal, like it was okay for people to look down on Bella when she was out with him.
But not Damon. He called people out, took them to task for their actions. And he encouraged her to stand up for herself.
“You get the next one,” he smirked as they entered another shop. It was so reminiscent of when he’d told her to flirt their way out of the speeding ticket that Bella couldn’t help but laugh.
“You’re rather confident that the girls will come sniffing around, aren’t you?” she laughed.
He shrugged. “They can’t help themselves.”
But he was proven right almost immediately. As Bella half-heartedly perused a rack of dresses, she heard Damon’s voice carry to her from across the store.
“No thanks. If I need a model I’m sure my girlfriend would be happy to. We’re here for her, after all.”
“But really, I don’t mind – in fact, I insist,” the woman had giggled, touching Damon’s arm flirtatiously.
Not giving her self-doubt a chance to rise up and talk her out of it like it’d almost done with the cop, Bella had strolled over to Damon, removed his arm from under the woman’s talons and hooked her arm through his while giving the woman, who was holding up a very skimpy dress, a saccharine smile. “Oh, are you a model? I wish I were flat chested so I could be a model too.”
It was ridiculous how proud she felt in that moment. Sure, it was catty, it was mean, but it felt amazing to be the strong one for once. The one who wouldn’t allow some snarky woman to get away with acting like Bella was a second class citizen in their presence. Damon had clearly said he was there with her and the woman hadn’t cared. It was as if Bella didn’t matter, not in this girl’s strange, deluded world of self-importance.
So even though could feel a small niggling of guilt blooming, Bella maintained her stare down with the saleswoman and kept her polite, sweet smile in place.
Although Damon immediately ruined her act by laughing. Bella couldn’t smother her giggles as he lost it next to her, his body shaking as he overtly laughed in the poor woman’s face. Again, the guilt swirled but it did little to taint the sense of victory as the woman stomped off.
“Oh, my little kitten has claws,” Damon breathed.
Bella rolled her eyes. “Hey, just because we know we’re not together, doesn’t mean she knows it. I mean, you told her I was your girlfriend and it was like it didn’t matter. Like I didn’t matter. I’m tired of feeling that way.”
He stopped laughing. “Oh mina, trust me, you matter.”
“It happened all the time when I was out with Edward,” she said, not sure where the need to confess such a thing came from. But not even she could deny the bitterness in her words as she said, “And he never did anything about it. He never encouraged them, but he never discouraged them either. He made it seem like it was alright for people to treat me like that, like I didn’t matter or wasn’t even there.” She pushed away the memories of her and Edward and glanced at Damon who stared at her silently, letting her vent. “But it wasn’t alright, not then and not now.”
She shook her head, looking off in the distance, ashamed that she’d turned their fun game into a serious moment.
Damon brought a hand to her cheek, his fingers softly moving a lock of her hair back behind her ear. “Come along, mina, I’ll show you how much you matter. Let’s go buy you a flashy dress and hit the tables. You’ll see how the men won’t be able to help themselves with you and I’ll act like a proper jealous boyfriend about it.”
She smiled, taking his hand in hers. “You know you don’t have to buy me things, right? Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful, but I don’t want you to feel obligated.”
He gave her his patented don’t-be-stupid glare and Bella laughed. “Alright. Point taken. Let’s go – and remember, you promised to teach me how to play Craps.”
He smirked, throwing his arm around her shoulder and leading her out of the store.
“Oh mina, I’ll teach you many things, just you wait and see.”
His voice was filled with dark promise and Bella shivered under his arm.
(A/N): I feel like I should say I have nothing against models, lol.
So I hoped you liked the little bit of Damon POV you had – I was real nervous about it, so I’d appreciate hearing your thoughts. It flowed easily enough, but I always feel like Damon can be such a contradiction, both straightforward and hard to read. I probably won’t do his POV a lot, but half chapters like this may happen now and again.
Also, hope you enjoyed Bella forming more backbone – it always drove me crazy how she (and Edward) let people disrespect her so openly when they were out together…