This came to me yesterday during the last five minutes of my last class. I've been itching to get it out. And I know I've got trillions of other stories to finish, and believe me, I will. So don't worry!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Vampire Diaries, it belongs to L.J. Smith. And this is a slight crossover with Supernatural, but you don't need to have seen the show to read I don't own that either, it belogsn to Eric Kripke.

I hope you like this! Enjoy!

Broken Souls

Chapter 1

They shouldn't have believed that Katherine would've been fooled so easily by their "fights". Stefan hadn't been fast enough, strong enough. He should've started with the human blood earlier...and not with Elena's. Who was he to have the right to do something like that, even if she agreed to it? It had happened so quickly that it hadn't even registered with his mind.

He, Elena and Damon were standing just outside the boarding house. Liz had her memory wiped clean of learning that the Salvatores and her daughter were vampires, and was off living happily ever after, being a sheriff and keeping an eye on any suspicious happenings with the Council. Caroline was still at the Salvatores', though; had been there for a few days now. She was still recovering from what her mom had told her. She'd told Liz that she was working on a school project with Elena and they were doing it at the boarding house, which was quiet and had plenty of space to work and think. Neither Salvatore minded at all. Actually, she wasn't as bad as Damon had thought.

They were discussing the werewolf problem. Mason had to be dealt with...well, more like killed. He was too dangerous to the town, more than likely to spill his guts about Stefan, Damon and Caroline. He had to die, most preferably at a time when there wasn't a full moon. Tyler had to go, too, Damon figured. Any time he could flip whatever it was that triggered becoming all werewolf-y, and become just as dangerous as his uncle. As was expected, the others did not agree—"Tyler's human," "He's innocent," "He hasn't done anything," blah, blah, blah. Honestly, if there was anyone who knew that appearances were deceiving, it should be them. But he didn't seem to be working them over. Ah, well, he'd deal with that little issue himself.

It was there, just outside the boarding house, in that point in time, when she'd appeared behind Elena.

"Hello, Elena," Katherine greeted briefly, coldly, and when Elena had turned towards her, her vampire doppelganger had snapped her neck in one swift motion, the crack echoing painfully through the cold night air. "Goodbye, Elena," she'd said, just as coldly, at the same time Stefan shouted, "No!"

Katherine's cold brown eyes had looked up to meet Stefan's agony-filled green ones. "You are mine, Stefan. No pathetic little human that doesn't deserve you is going to take you away from me." And then she was gone.

Despite Stefan's uncontrollable shaking, he managed to stumble over to where Elena lay dead on the ground. He ended up on his knees besides her, hands grasping her shoulders, shaking her. "Elena," he gasped out desperately. "Elena, please. Please, you...we're in this together, right?" The sound he made could've been a laugh or a sob. "Elena, please, you can't...Elena, please...please, please...oh God, Elena. Don't, please..." He was beginning to sob, but he couldn't stop his mantra. "Don't leave me. Please, don't be dead. Please..." And then his body was shaking too hard to continue with words. The sobs were coming out of him harshly and uncontrollably.

Damon was frozen, could not move. He couldn't look away from the horrific scene in front of him, the teenage girl lying dead on the ground, in an eternal sleep, his brother's desperate sobs not even enough to wake her. And she was so beautiful...Helen is a form of Elena. Helen of Troy, beautiful and doomed. But Helen wasn't caught up in a world of monsters, werewolves, witches and vampires—enough of a death sentence already. His body felt numb, and he could not really acknowledge what was in front of him. The beautiful, dead girl. Elena. The love if his life's doppelganger, dead. Stefan's sobs were a faraway sound to his ears, along with Caroline running out of the boarding house, horrified and crying.

Shock, he thought. I'm in shock. Or denial, or something. I can't...he took a step backwards, and a single tear spilled down his cheek. Guess...guess I thought too soon, he thought shakily, just as another tear made itself known. Damn it, he though angrily as his lips started trembling. Hell, no. I'm not crying. I'm not. Not here.

Neither of the vampires on the ground morning for the loved, dead girl noticed as Damon vanished from sight, a plan working it's way on forming in his head.

Getting together what he needed didn't take long; the supplies he needed included some deep South voodoo items, which he had. And there was witchy stuff basically lying all over. There were no tears falling or in his eyes at this point; now he was calm and calculating and cold, completely focused on his task. He wasn't completely sure that this would even work; it was a legend he'd heard a long while ago. But he couldn't leave things like this. He couldn't leave Elena dead. It wasn't right.

He put all of the necessary items in a small wooden box; graveyard dirt, a black cat bone, and a few other things that assured you that you were getting yourself into some bad magic, and a small photo of himself, cut from his driver's license. Then he got into his car, pulled out of the driveway, and made his way out of town, past the city limits, and down a long country road. he'd been driving a while and had passed several corn stalks before he found his destination; a crossroads. An area of dirt, with one road going each direction; north, south, east and west. He parked his car, went out into the crossroads, getting as precisely in the middle as possible. Then he knelt and dug a hole with his hand, making quick work of it. He dropped the box inside before pushing the dirt that he'd dug up in the hole to cover it, standing and smoothing it with his foot. Then he looked up and around. It was the dead of night, with no moon or stars lighting up the sky. Only crickets could be heard. Damon could barely see anything, even with his advanced senses, but that didn't mean he couldn't recognize a presence, were one to show up.

"C'mon," he whispered. This had to be real. If it wasn't...


"COME ON!" he roared to the empty darkness, whipping around in every direction, looking for the damn Crossroads Demon that was Elena's only chance.

"Well, relax a little, baby, sheesh. I'm right here."

Damon froze, then took a deep breath, turning around calmly. Standing just a few feet behind him was a beautiful, sweet-looking young woman with wavy blond hair and pale skin, wearing a black cocktail dress, watching him with a slight smirk. "Well, well, well. Damon Salvatore, the bad brother. Never thought I would have the pleasure."

Damon had a hard, icy glare fixed on her, the kind that made vampires stronger than him back down. She didn't seem at all intimidated. She simply gave him a pleasant smile, her clear clue eyes flashing blood red.

"I mean, you're the selfish one, right? Don't give two craps about anyone in the world but yourself? And here you are, doing the ultimate selfless act. Let me guess, for that pretty Elena Gilbert girl?" She gave him a knowing look, having no need to really ask. "What happened to her?"

"Katherine happened to her," Damon said, each word grinding painfully out of his throat.

The demon grinned suddenly, brightly. "Well, good for her! ...and let me guess, that what you're here for.'

Damon nodded once, not breaking eye contact with her.

"Mm..." she grimaced. "Katherine might not be too happy about that, having her work undone."

"She gets me in Hell."

"True. But, to be honest—brutally, maybe, but honest—you aren't exactly top on her list of priorities as of now."

"I know. But this way she won't have to really worry about me, will she?"

The Crossroad Demon chewed her lower lip. "Perhaps...then again, Katherine's been known to get creative when she's angry, and she isn't exactly the type to stop and listen to logic."

Oh, God; he was losing her. He turned desperate. "Please. Whatever you want from me, you can have it. Just...bring her back."

She raised her eyebrows slightly.

"...she doesn't deserve this," he finished weakly.

She looked truly thoughtful. "I shouldn't..."

Damon was trembling from head to toe. Please...oh, God, please...

"...but, you are just too fun to play with. I can't pass up an opportunity like this. I'll deal with the wrath of Katherine later." She smiled. Damon supposed it was meant to be charming, but to him it was slimy and disgusting.

Not that it mattered.

He stepped forward. "What do you want?" he asked emotionlessly.

She laughed. "Well, your soul, of course. You're damning yourself in making this deal, you realize that, right?"

"Yes, I realize." He nodded once. "Ten years, right?"

"Oh, honey, not for you. You really think Hell can wait that long for a celebrity like you? No, I'm sure they'll be just waiting to get slicing and dicing into you. The demon you'll make..."

Damon rolled his eyes. "How long, then?"


He didn't mean for it to happen, but his eyes involuntarily widened in shock. "One?"

"One. Baby, you're lucky that this deal is even being made. Elena returns from the dead and the Hellhounds come for their due one year from tonight, at midnight exactly. It's that or nothing. Deal or no deal."

Damon nodded. I'm damning myself, he thought. I'm going to go to literal Hell tobe tortured until I turn into some kind of demon. it really worth it? And Elena's face flashed through his mind again. Peaceful in death, and yet wrong...not meant to be. Yes. It is. "How does this deal get sealed?"

The Crossroad Demon grinned, thrilled. "Well, this is my favorite part." She went up to him and paused, her slender body against his, her forehead leaned against his. "You sure about this, Salvatore?"

Damon gave her a stony stare. "What do you think?"

She simply grinned and pressed her lips to his.

He reacted, surprised, but with common sense telling him that this was likely the answer to his question. It was intense. For Damon, maybe it was, physically. The demon clearly liked it more than he did. But it didn't matter. There were no questions now; he could feel it.

The deal was sealed.

Stefan sat vigil beside where Elena's body lay across the couch. She looked peaceful, and yet...

He knew that Elena was dead, and yet his mind refused to believe it. His soul would absolutely, under any circumstances, not accept that the love of his life, the girl that he would give the world for, was dead.

Caroline was just on the other side of the wall, crying softly. She didn't seem to be able to stop, and she wanted to be alone. Not even alone with Elena, just...alone. She was heartbroken. Stefan knew that. But for him...heartbroken didn't even seem to begin to describe it.

So when Elena bolted upright, brown eyes wide and bewildered, gasping for air, he thought he was seeing things.

Wow. Huh. Um...tell me what you think! Should I continue it?