Vampire Diaries 1. Between Brothers

**A/N: This has been expanded from the original one shot.** I love the relationship between these poor damaged brothers more than any other on the show and I like to do quick character studies of them from time to time. I hope you enjoy this one. It's just a moment in time, following the devastating S3 finale. Feel free to let me know, one way or the other.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything Vampire Diaries or TVD related

* * *

He moved down the few steps and into the library, crossing to the bar with that deceptively languid stroll. He knew he looked nonchalant, maybe even a wee bit intoxicated, but don't let it fool you. He was fully aware, always on edge and ready to spring if it became necessary. Well, not really so much _if _as _when_, because it always _did _become necessary around this place. Never a dull moment in this sleepy little town/seething hell-mouth.

_"Nothing bad ever happens in Mystic Falls."_

He winced slightly at the old memory. Oh, really, Elena, is that a fact? Had there ever been a more untrue statement made? Sure, in the beginning most of what happened was actually his fault. But, still…

And now? Now not even Little Miss Judgypants could put the blame on him for the shitstorm that was raining down on their little parade. It was truly mind-boggling how fast and how far this crazy train had gone off the rails. Not even on his best day could he have caused this much damage.

He couldn't actually remember the last time there'd been a gap in the endless turmoil that was life in Mystic Falls. Or when he'd been able to let his guard down or sleep the night through instead of just closing his eyes for a few minutes. Not that he actually needed to sleep, per se, but he did need to rest, to recharge, to at least _attempt_ to get his mojo back. This vampire body of his was an amazing, remarkable wonder but - contrary to all popular belief - it wasn't entirely indestructible. Hell, he'd been kicked, pounded into the ground and beaten to a broken, bloody pulp so many times in the last weeks he'd actually lost count.

Not to mention all the _physical_ abuse he'd had to endure, he thought sarcastically.

So, his body was utterly wrecked and emotionally he was just spent, drained, done in. He was running on empty and he was pretty certain the last time he'd had a break was when Evilaric had snapped his neck. No pun intended, of course. Christ, his afterlife had gotten completely out of control. He couldn't even _pretend_ to be having fun any more.

Without bothering to glance up from his bartending duties, he called out a greeting to his brother as he heard him coming down the hallway, "It's pretty early in the day for such a sad face. What's the story, morning glory?"

As Stefan entered the room behind him Damon threw a glance over his shoulder. Sure enough, his brother's eyebrows were drawn together in what had, unfortunately, become his go-to expression and his big, puppy dog eyes were full of anxiety. Poor Stef. He really needed to learn how to enjoy his _own _afterlife a little bit more. After all, at least he had a girlfriend to share it with. He slammed the door quickly on that dark closet - _way_ too many skeletons to deal with right now - and prepared himself for whatever angsty drama was about to come flying his way. He also went ahead and fixed his baby brother a drink, because he sure as hell looked like he could use one.

"Where've you been, Damon? I've been trying to reach you since yesterday."

Ahh, and there it was. The kid was utterly predictable, as always.

"Oh, you know, Stef, just keeping busy. Now that you've been officially named as captain of Team Elena I'm kind of at loose ends. In limbo, if you will. I've had to find some new ways to fill my time." He flashed a quick, lopsided smirk and handed his brother a glass before tossing back his own two-fingers of bourbon. "Friendlier, blonder ways. As you can imagine, I'm kind of off brunettes for the moment."

He refilled his tumbler and then gave a jaunty salute as he walked over to stand before the massive, stained-glass window overlooking the back gardens. The Suicide Window, as he had fondly dubbed it, which sounded much more dramatic than the Failed Suicide window.

Stefan sighed. Bitter, drunken Damon was back in the house. Joy.

"Well, you can't just check out like that. Things are too…" Stefan paused, reigning in his frustration. Acting like an overbearing parent wouldn't do any good and it was more likely to make things much worse. He started again, "Look, everything is dangerous right now. I don't believe for one second that the council bought into that story about Vampire Ric and his private agenda. You know as well as I do that they're cooking up something behind closed doors." Stefan ran an agitated hand through his short hair. "Doors that are now closed to you, I might add. So, in the meantime, we need to be careful. That means we keep in close contact until we find out what they're up to."

He stared at Damon's back, not sure whether the tensed shoulders were caused by some general irritation, at being called out for reckless behavior or if it was something else altogether. You never knew what was bubbling beneath that cool exterior but you better believe there was always something. And it was usually trouble.

But, his brother just gave a little laugh. "Oh, I've got some thoughts on how to handle those vervainaholic council members. Probably best if you don't think too much about it, though. I mean it, Stef, you'll have to apply for a special permit if you try to add any more worry-lines to that forehead."

Stefan bit back any comment he might have wanted to make, refusing to encourage him. What Damon didn't seem to realize was that at least half of the lines were there on his account. Not that it would matter to him, anyway. Damon did whatever the hell Damon wanted to do and Stefan was left to spend his time worrying about him and then picking up the pieces when things fell apart. He spent a hell of a lot more time stressing about his brother than he did Elena, that was for sure. You just never knew what the guy was going to do, what trouble would find him and what conflict he would refuse to back down from. Damon was incredibly smart but equally reckless, never thinking about the impact his actions might have. He just catapulted himself into danger as if he couldn't care less what happened to him. And the hell of it was, the thing that scared Stefan more than anything in the world was that he knew - deep down - that Damon _didn't_ care.

The constant stress of that knowledge exhausted him beyond all measure.

So, he forced himself to back off and be more reasonable. He couldn't rile Damon's unstable temper, sending him off to God knows where to do God knows what. That was the last thing they needed. No, right now they needed him present along with his strength and his cunning. "We're relying on each other, Damon, and whether you've thought about it or not, that includes you. You're part of this, too." Stefan paused for a beat, waiting until his brother glanced back at him before adding, "You can't go rogue on the Council. You also can't check-out and take a spur of the moment road trip to go play Sloshball with a bunch of sorority girls, as tempting as that might be for you."

_Seriously? _

Did Stefan really just say that? This was the same douchebag who played a fun little game of Twister Death Match with those self-same sorority girls? And ruined one of his best rugs in the process? Sometimes he just could not believe the self-righteous BS that flowed from his brother's mouth. Damon forced himself to walk slowly over to the desk and set the crystal tumbler down very carefully before responding. He'd been working so hard to control the simmering rage and resentment that, he had to admit, was still tweaking him about Stefan's whole _"**Yeah, well, I let her die and she STILL chose me" **_situation and now he was gonna get this dumped on him, too?

Beautiful. His life was just a freaking fairy tale.

When he was finally able to actually form a sentence, he had to deliver it through gritted teeth, his voice low to hide the faint tremor caused from the extreme effort it was taking him to keep from laughing in his brother's face. Or snapping his neck. "I can't believe what I'm hearing from you right now. You name a time - one time - for the last year in this _miserable_ town that I haven't been there for you. When I haven't backed you and your little gang up. When I haven't risked EVERYTHING for you and your girlfriend. When? Hmm? When was that, Stefan?" he spat his brother's name out as if it were poison in his mouth.

Stefan at least had the good grace to lower his eyes and look ashamed. Damon was right. He had been there. He'd stayed and helped even when Stefan himself was off on a raging blood bender in the mountains and then casually popping back in to murder the local news reporter. Still, even if it wasn't fair, one year of good behavior couldn't erase the century and a half of hatred and mistrust that lay between them.

"Look, I know you've made changes, Damon, and I appreciate what you've done here. So does Elena, so does everybody. But what I also know is that your moral compass isn't always pointing due north. That you don't always see things or feel things the way the rest of us do. I know that in the grand scheme of your existence, all of _this_," he spread his arms as if to encompass the entire town of Mystic Falls and all of it's residents, "has just been a blip on your radar. What I need now is for you to understand how much more it matters to me." He looked up, met Damon's eyes, "If something goes wrong here, you'll just turn your back on it. You'll just flip your switch and it's right back to private jets and Italian villas. But I'm not like you and if this all comes crashing down I'll have to live with it for the rest of my life." Stefan reached out, grasping his brother's shoulder as if contact would drive his point home. "I'll have to face that guilt every day. For eternity. You have no idea what that's like, Damon."

* * *

_What?  
__What the fuck did he just say?_

Damon felt himself suddenly immobilized, his drink half-way to his lips and his expression shock frozen on his face. He quite literally felt light headed for a moment as his brother's words slammed into him like a barrage of punches to the face. His eyes narrowed and he glared down at where his brother still held his shoulder in a tight grip, before shrugging him off in disgust. He ground his teeth together until it felt like they'd crumble to dust in his mouth just to keep from spewing out the words that were churning like a hurricane inside his head right now.

_You think you're the only one who __feels__?  
__Who __cares__?  
__Suffers__?_

_You've never known what it's like to be me, Stefan. You have no idea what my life has been. You _think_ you know sometimes. I've seen the pity on your face - which you are welcome to keep to yourself, thanks - but you won't ever truly know the weight of what I carry. The loneliness, the sickening guilt, all the regrets of this fucked-up life that I never wanted. It never leaves me and it never, never stops trying to break me. I've carried it alone all this time because I will _not_ put this burden on someone else. I'm stronger than that. _

_I'm stronger than you._

_…but it's so heavy, brother. I want to put it down but I can't because you still _need _me. Because _she _needs me._

_Maybe I have been a shitty brother but even through it all, I've stayed near you, tried to keep an eye on you over these endless years. Yeah, I turned my back on you but I've never really left you and I can't believe you think I would now. I'd never leave you to do this on your own. Doesn't anybody on this goddamned planet know me at all?_

_...but being here has gotten so much harder and I don't know how much longer I can do this. _

_I'm just so tired, Stef._

He didn't say any of those things, of course. He never had and he never would, not to anyone. Whatever he'd done, wherever he'd been and whatever part of him had been broken in the process - he owned. Those things were not for sale. So he did what he always did. He forced his face back into it's familiar mask, letting all of the pain and all of the anger drain away, until it was once again smooth, cool perfection with icy blue eyes and a mocking smile for good measure. He tilted his head slightly in his brother's direction. "Your concerns are duly noted but you can rest assured - I'm on board with Team Salvatore. Your plan is my plan, baby brother."

* * *

**NOTE: This little one-shot character study has been expanded now and I hope you'll enjoy it with me as I make my way through, getting to know the characters and their situations. **I'd love to hear what you think so please don't forget to review. Thanks so much!


	2. Unlikely Partners

**A/N: **I had a few requests to expand what was originally going to be a one-shot about Damon and Stefan and, since the story was mostly written, I decided to go ahead and start posting it. This is a post 3x22 with potential for Delena, mostly Damon's POV, but does include other charcter POV as well. Thanks so much!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything Vampire Diaries or TVD related

* * *

Damon leaned forward, elbows propped on the counter, fingers gently spinning his glass. He let his eyes wander lazily around the room, not settling on anyone for too long. Besides, he wasn't really looking…he was listening. Regardless of what he'd told Stefan, he was _not_ with the plan of waiting for the Council to show it's hand. He sure as hell wasn't going to wait around for some pharmacist in a button-down to show up at their door with a stake up his sleeve. The thing is, he really _does _need something to occupy him. A distratction. He can't stand being at home but he can't let it all go just yet and so where the hell does that leave him?

Right here. Parked on a barstool at the Grille.

He'd put considerable time and effort into making himself out to be a day-drinking barfly. No one ever expected the bourbon guzzling Salvatore brother to be paying attention to anything more important than the bottom of the next bottle. Downside was, to make it work, he actually did have to consume quite a bit of the hard stuff from time to time. Which in turn lessened his effectiveness just a tad.

It wasn't a perfect plan, but it was a plan.

Of course, it had been a lot more fun when he'd had his partner in crime by his side. But Ric was gone, really gone this time not _"Temporarily Out of Order" _gone. Just one more in the long list of the fallen. So, there would be no more drunken games of darts at the Grille. No more rowdy road trips. No more whiskey and cigars in the library while Ric picked his brain for first-hand accounts of history.

_"Is this the part where you give me a dream?"_

His fingers clenched hard around the glass and he could feel a nerve in his jaw leap suddenly. Of all the fucked up things to have happen. Jesus, if he could get his hands on that Original Bitch it'd be worth having his brain explode just to…

No. he was not going there. He slammed the door on it, buried it. Ric was gone.

He shifted on his chair, eased the tension in his shoulders and gave another glance around.

_"No, it's at the Hanson place out off of the highway. Mid-day, just to be safe."_

Hmm, what have we here?

Suddenly Damon was all ears. This was interesting. Hushed tones in a crowded bar, not quite whispering and a voice he recognized from the Council meetings. He didn't turn around but angled his head ever so slightly in their direction.

_"Who knows? Who's with us?"  
"Look, I'm not comfortable talking about this here. Not right now…. I'll call you with the details later."  
"Sounds good. I'll just walk out with you."_

Damon snorted. As if that would help. They could get in their car and drive down the block and he would still have a pretty good idea of what their plan was going to be. And what they were listening to on the radio, too. Idiots.

_"One thing you should know. You're going to have to get her away from them. Separate them from each other. It's the only way this will work."_

Oh, no. No, no, no, no and no. That was not going to happen. Not in this lifetime or any other. Not again. He couldn't go through that again.

He tossed a couple of bills on the bar and slipped off his stool, making his way through the kitchens and out into the back alley. Looking left and right before he glided up the stairs and around the corner, moving like a shadow. This was about recon, he wasn't in attack mode.

Yet.

He watched the two men heading across the parking lot toward a big, good ol' boy truck. They chat for a minute - just BS about how good it was to catch up and how they'll try to get together again soon. They shake hands and then split apart. Damon keeps his eyes on the big guy. He's the one who's gonna try and bring the pain.

And that's when he hears it. Down the block, moving quickly but not very quietly from between the drug store and the old Gilbert office building where he nearly met his timely demise he sees somebody headed their way. Somebody moving too carefully to be up to any good.

_Damn it, Jeremy!  
Why? Why do I even try to keep you people out of trouble? You have an entirely overblown sense of your own immortality and I swear the next chance I get, I'm taking that fucking ring once and for all even if I have to cut your finger off to do it. Better off with Homer-hands than dead._

_And your sister can bitch about it all she wants._

He didn't have any more time for internal dialogue about his favorite Founding Siblings because young Jeremy was fast approaching and…_shit!…_was that a crossbow in his hand? What the hell?

He moved to intercept and Jeremy just about jumped out of skin he was so startled by the out-of-thin-air-appearance. Damon slung an arm around the kid's neck, squeezing tightly but carefully. After all, wouldn't want an ugly reenactment of that earlier incident, would they? He made it look like a casual, brotherly gesture.

"Damon! What the hell?" Jeremy managed to squeak out.

"Wrong!" he hissed, "What I think you meant to say was "_Yes, sir, Mr. Salvatore, I'm headed straight home to get my chores done and read a good book."_

Furious brown eyes glared at him, eyes that were so like his big sister's it almost made Damon soften his grip. Almost.

"I don't need a babysitter, dick. I can take care of myself. And my sister, too, so why don't you just take off."

Damon had a very strong wave of desire to slap the little punk in the back of the head for that. He actually felt an angry growl rumble in the back of his throat. Kids today had absolutely no respect for their elders. But he decided to let it go. Not his problem. Let Stefan deal with.

Instead, he made a quick turn, steering them away from trouble and back in the opposite direction toward his car. Which would take them to his house. Which would then take him to a nice long talk with this frustrating kid to find out what the hell was going on around this place.

He was still about twenty feet away from the Camaro when he felt the guy moving behind them. He turned, angling his body so he was between Jeremy and the stranger. At the same time he let go of his neck and gave him the slightest push in the direction of his car, tossing the keys his way

"Looks like you're gonna have to be the designated driver tonight, Jer. One too many. Again."

_Take a hint, kid. Get in the goddamned car and take off or Little Witch Judgypants will melt my brain and I'm pretty sure your sister will be so mad she'll be able to kick my ass. At least for a minute._

He glanced over at the man who was openly watching them now. "Hey, buddy. You need a hand with something? Can I help you out?" He smiled easily, still playing the amiable drunk guy.

Shit, he wasn't fooling anybody. Damon could read it in the guys eyes. He was only about ten feet away from them and didn't look the least bit phased by the locked and loaded high-schooler and his vampire bodyguard.

"Yeah." His voice was deep and his heartbeat was dead-steady. No fear. "I think you can help me... Mr. Salvatore."

Ruh-Roh.

The big guy moved quick, snatching his weapon - some kind of miniature cannon from the looks of it - and swung it directly up towards Damon's chest. In return, Damon dropped; ready to dive underneath and take the guy out when it happened. Damon felt the whisper of movement behind him a fraction of a second before he saw the guy's focus shift, ever so slightly, to the right.

_Fucking Jeremy._

So, instead of diving under the weapon, crushing the guy's legs and then snapping his neck, Damon only had time to spin around and put his body between Jeremy and whatever the hell was going to come blazing out of that rocket launcher.

Déjà vu all over again.

When it hit, it was like getting run down by a tank. A vervain-soaked, wooden tank moving at about two-hundred miles per hour. He dropped like Wile E. Coyote off the side of a cliff, hitting the ground with a puff and absolutely no attempt to break his own fall.

"Ouch!"

_Oh shit, that really hurts!_

And the guy was still coming. Damon groaned, tried to push himself up off the cement but it just wasn't happening. Not yet and maybe not ever.

But then Jeremy, that sneaky little bastard, whips his hand up with - lo and behold - a taser and SHIZZLE! Big boy goes down in a blaze of twitching glory. Fabulous!

Oh, how he loves these Gilbert kids.

Right about then, Damon feels himself start to get a little woozy and he can't quite focus on the action any more. He's got a hell of a lot of vervain and what feels like a cord of good southern blackjack pine in him. Talk about a sneaky bastard. That guy was going to find himself being one dead sonofabitch.

Sometime later in the week.

He felt Jeremy's arm go around him, pulling him to his feet and keeping him there. He decides to take a deep breath and just go with it because, to be honest, he's pretty sure he couldn't keep it on two wheels on his own, anyway.

"C'mon, Damon. Let's get you home now. You really need to stop drinking so much,"

Ha. Fucking. Ha. That kid was never going to make a comedian, that was for damn sure. And that's when the lights went out.

* * *

So, that's the story of how Damon Salvatore ended up face-down in his own backseat like some kind of kidnapping victim while Ghost Whisperer Gilbert hauled ass through the countryside, all but hollering _"Yee Haw" _out the open windows.

"Jesus, Damon, this is a sweet ride!" He laughed maniacally, pedal to the floor.

"Yeah, yeah it is and I'd like to keep it that way." He closed his eyes, searching for equilibrium as they took flight over a slight rise in the road. "I've got some very fond memories attached to this car so be good to her."

"Have you had it for a long time?"

"I have," There was a smile in his voice as he remembered, "It was love at first sight and she's taken me everywhere; from Alaska all the way to the tip of South America. I drove her off the showroom floor in '68 and never looked back."

All was quiet for a few minutes as Jeremy let that sink in. Damon felt himself start to drift a little bit. They'd managed to get the biggest pieces of wood out but in the interest of time, had left the smaller pieces for later. It hurt like a bitch and he was queasy and dizzy from the vervain but, as was ever his mantra - nothing hurts worse than being dead.

"You've had such a life. A lot of great memories, probably." Jeremy's voice was soft, wistful with longing and it managed to wriggle into a warm spot where Damon was pretty sure his heart used to live.

_Oh no. No, we were not doing this. Where's that guy with his big-ass gun so he can finish me off because I am not doing this. I can't._

"Not as many as you'd think," he growled, but then relented because, hell, this kid was just so...human, "You'll have plenty of memories of your own, kid. You already do." Damon shifted, trying to get a look out the window. They _had_ to be almost home by now unless this Gilbert loved a road trip as much as his sister did.

"Yeah, bad ones."

_Ouch. Direct hit. You sank my battleship, Jer._

"Then why did you do it back there? Why did you try to help me after all the shit I've done to you, all the trouble I've caused? Why not just leave me there and even the score?"

_There, take that, punk._

This was met with a long pause. So long, in fact that Damon actually did doze off. Or passed out. Whatever, he came to with a start when Jeremy finally answered.

"I don't know. I mean, everything is so messed up in this town that normal rules don't apply anymore. I should hate you for…for killing me and for what you did to Vicki. And I did, probably part of me still does. Plus, you can be such a total dick to me and everybody else," he paused, "And I'm sick about what's happened to Elena, even though I know it wasn't your fault. That you wouldn't have let it happen."

Their eyes clash in the rear view mirror but they both know enough to leave _that _subject alone. He couldn't even go there in his own head yet, let alone with her little brother.

He wasn't quite finished, though,"I guess everything can't always be just black and white. You've done a lot of good things, too. And, you really try to help Stefan with all of his...stuff so I know you get the brother thing, the family thing."

When he paused this time Damon had an uncomfortable creeping sensation run up the back of his neck.

_Do __**not**__ do it, kid. Just once, could somebody __**please**__ show me a little respect and just not fucking go there with me? _

"You're my friend, Damon. You care about Elena and me and the whole bunch of us. We've turned into this big, screwed up family and…well, I think you and Stefan are a part of that family now, too."

_And he did it. That dirty little bastard dropped the F-bomb right on top of him._

Oh, how he hated these Gilbert kids.

* * *

**That's it for this chapter. And don't worry, Elena comes to the story in Ch.3. Thanks for reading and I'd love to hear what you think so far, one way or another. **


	3. It Rains Down

**A/N: **OK, here's chapter 3. Finally, some new characters. It's a tad shorter but almost everyone's made their introduction. Now we can get down to it! I really wanted to take the time in these early chapters to get inside the character's heads a little bit, root around and explore. I think it's important to get an idea of where everybody stands before jumping into the meat of the tale. Don't worry, there's drama and adventure and romance right around the corner! And a new POV! I love Damon and I constantly wonder what's going on in that beautiful head of his, but there are plenty of other interesting folks in Mystic Falls, too. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything Vampire Diaries or TVD related

* * *

It was close to midnight when they finally pulled up in front of the boarding house and Damon wasn't too messed up to notice the excessive number of vehicles lined up in the driveway. Stefan had apparently mustered his troops. They'd probably all be huddled up in the den, working out how to undo whatever it was they were certain he'd screwed up this time.

Awesome… didn't any of these kids have to get up for school in the morning?

As Jeremy started to get out of the car, Damon stopped him, "Just so I'm clear on this, back at the grill, when I was a little out of it…"

"Totally passed out," Jeremy clarified.

Damon rolled his eyes in aggravation, "Tomato. Potato. Whatever. So, you just shoved me in the car and took off? You didn't, you know, frag that hunter?"

Jeremy looked a little uncomfortable. Smart kid. "Well, he was starting to move around and…I wasn't sure if I could…I mean, he's a human, Damon. He's a _guy_."

"Yeah, Jeremy, I know that. He's a guy who'd just tried to _impale _you. Who did impale _me_."

"I know. I just…" his voice dwindled weakly down into silence.

Damon decided to let it drop for now. They'd both been through enough for the night and it wasn't over yet. He, for one, still had walk into his own house and face the latest episode of the _"You're an Asshole and We All Hate Your Guts"_ show. Whatever. They were all just a bunch of children anyway. Stefan was probably serving them milk and cookies in the parlor right this very minute.

"Listen, Jeremy, a quick note before you get snatched off your feet in one of those famous Elena Gilbert hugs here in a few seconds. Just keep your mouth shut in there, OK? Whatever they need to know about what went on tonight, I'll tell them. I need to talk to Stefan about it alone first. Are we clear on that?"

Jeremy looked at him uncertainly, his eyebrows every bit as squinched together as Stefan's ever were, "Um…yeah. Sure, Damon. Whatever you say."

Nope, not nearly good enough. His hand whipped out, grabbing the kid by the back of the neck and forcing him to turn around and look him in the eyes. "Don't make me compel you, Gilbert. I mean it. Lips zipped. I'll handle this."

He got a loud swallow and a quick nod for that. Better. It'd have to do for now, anyway.

He managed to haul himself up and out of the car with less effort than he'd expected. The vervain was working its way out of his system. If he could just get these toothpicks out he'd be back to Shiny Happy Damon in no time.

Jeremy rounded the car and reached out to give him a hand but he brushed him off irritably, "I'm fine, Florence Nightingale. You can quit hovering."

"Florence who?" Jeremy asked, his brow wrinkled in confusion.

Damon just shook his head in disgust and headed toward the door. Of course, it burst open before they could get there and Big Sis Gilbert came barreling out, nearly running Damon down in her frantic flight to get her hands on her brother. Stefan followed, but just leaned in the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest and patiently waiting.

"Jeremy!" Elena cried, grabbing him in a huge hug, nearly squeezing the eyeballs out of him, "Jeremy, are you all right?" She shoved him backwards and started grabbing at his clothes, running her hands over his arms, spinning him around so she could verify that all sides of him were still intact. Before he could answer, she had him back in her clutches squeezing him some more. Jeremy was throwing frantic looks at Stefan and the rest of the crew that had gathered behind him but there was no help from that quarter.

Damon watched them in silence for a minute before pushing his way into the house.

"Damon," Stefan said calmly, tilting his head in greeting as his brother brushed past him.

"Stefan," Damon replied, not bothering to look at him. Not bothering to look at any them.

Bonnie Bitch was there, of course because when wasn't she glued to Elena's side these days. He could smell Wolf Boy so he assumed Blondie was around too. Lost Boy Donovan seemed to be missing but that was no surprise, really. Damon was having some issues with that quarterback so he'd been making himself scarce lately. Maybe if he tried really hard, he could get upstairs before the show started. Probably not though, based on the looks that were being hurled at him.

He made his way to the wet bar instead, sloshing an over-generous amount of a nice Kentucky single malt into his glass. He barely made the half-way point to his lips when he felt the whole group of them shift around behind him. He ignored them some more, tossing his drink toward the back of his throat. He sighed blissfully as it burned a path of liquid gold all the way down and the faintest bit of warmth began to spread through his cold, aching body.

"What the hell were you thinking, Damon? How could you involve Jeremy in one of your idiotic plans?" Fear and anger had made her beautiful, husky voice turn strident and sharp.

Ding, ding, ding. Round 1.

He moved forward with his plan of ignoring them all and proceeded to pour himself another drink. A more reasonable amount this time because, hell, he was still pretty shaky and he'd need to stay alert for this.

"Damon? Seriously, what's wrong with you? You always think you know better than anybody else. That you can just…just do whatever you think is best. Well, you're not going to do that with my brother! You stay the hell away from him."

"Elena, I," Jeremy tried to interrupt.

"He's fine, Elena," Damon steeled himself before glancing over at her. God, she was magnificent when she was mad. So fierce. "Look at him? Doesn't he look alright to you?" He took a casual sip.

Elena just shook her head, disgust rendering her speechless, apparently. She looked at Stefan for support.

Uh-oh, tag team action.

"I thought we agreed that we were going to play this smart, Damon. Not show our hand right away. What happened to that plan?" As usual, Stefan was trying to be the voice of reason.

He shrugged and tossed in an eye roll for emphasis, "I was an innocent bystander this time. Just relaxing at the Grille, having a quiet drink. Unwinding after a tough day." He waved his drink in the air, "Kind of like I'm _trying_ to do right now."

"Right. Because it's _never _your fault when everything goes to hell," Bonnie shot at him. "You could have gotten Jeremy killed and you don't even care. You're such a selfish ass!" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously but she must have decided to save the brain pain for a later date.

_Thank you, God._

"Bonnie, it wasn't," Jeremy tried again, bless his foolish little heart. He had no idea how vicious these girls could get when they were on a roll.

She cut him off at the knees, "No, Jeremy, Elena's right. Damon doesn't think and he doesn't care about you. You need to stay away from him before he gets you killed. Again."

_Damn, Witchy, just go right for the jugular why don't you?_

But she wasn't quite finished. "Or maybe _I'll _just make sure he doesn't get the chance again." She glared at him, cocking up an eyebrow to make sure he got her point. In a lost battle against childish retaliation, he leaned toward her, letting the blood come up into his eyes and flashing just a glimpse of canine, a soft growl rumbling low in his chest. It gave him a tiny bit of satisfaction to watch her startle and step back.

Well, that was actually a lot of fun, but, seriously, this had gone on long enough. Time to wrap things up for the night. Damon felt like shit, he was getting a verbal ass-beating in the middle of his own house and he really just wanted the whole lot of them out of his face.

"OK, look. Play time's over, kiddies," He clapped his hands together, making sure he had their attention, "You know what? I'm not the one who gave Jeremy permission to run around town with a cross-bow and a _"Get Out of Dead Free" _ring. If you're gonna let him have the toys, you're gonna have to expect him to play with them. Not that you care, but he's pretty damned good at taking care of himself these days." He raised his glass for the last time, draining its contents. "Besides, like I said, he's fine."

He set his glass down and very carefully made his way over to the stairs. He paused, one hand on the giant newel post, before throwing a look Stefan's way. "And so am I, in case anyone is taking notes."

* * *

He almost made it. He was just steps away from his door when he felt her brush past him, inviting herself into his bedroom as if she had every right to be there. Christ, what a spoiled princess she could be. He sighed, letting his shoulders droop just a little bit because, seriously, he really couldn't keep arguing with her right now. Couldn't keep having her come to him with her problems, with her fears. With her need.

Didn't want to.  
Shouldn't have to.

He'd moved on…was trying to move on; why wouldn't anybody just let him do that? Did there need to be this _"Torture Damon"_ loop constantly running?

Enough already. He was done hanging out all by himself at his own pity party. "Go. Get out, Elena. Nothing here to see." He waved a hand in the general direction of the front door. Or Stefan's room. Or just…away. He didn't really care.

He watched as her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed into a stubborn little line. So it looked like this was going to happen regardless of what he wanted. What didn't she get about the fact that he'd been avoiding all contact with her for days now? Would there ever come a point when this goddamned girl would just take a hint? Just make like a tree and leave already.

Nope. Nada. Never.

At least not until she'd managed to claw out whatever tiny little scrap was still fluttering around inside his chest and squish it flat beneath the soles of her ugly old Cons. And, Christ, he'd let her do it. He'd put a smile on his face and he'd just let her do it over and over and over again.

Well, not any more. Those days were over.

"What? What do you want? I've had another one of those no good, very bad days so if you could just bitch me out in a voicemail or text it to me, that'd be fantastic."

He tossed his keys onto the dresser and headed for the bathroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. Stepping to the mirrored wall in the luxurious cocoon of his bath, he surveyed himself, finally getting a glimpse of the total damage. Damn, he looked surprisingly bad! A bloody, torn-up mess with pasty skin and raccoon circles of exhaustion rimming his eyes. And another pricey designer shirt had bitten the dust.

So what else was new?

He winced as he eased the fabric carefully away from his skin. It was starting to get stiff and about a billion splinters of wood were imbedded in it - and him - twisting and pulling against his flesh as he tried to work them loose. He finally just bit the bullet and, with a loud hiss of pain that he couldn't quite hold back, he ripped the shirt off. Happily, quite a few of the nasty little skewers came with it, but not nearly all of them. Breathing through his nose to fend off a wave of nausea, he went to work on the grim task of digging them out.

A soft whisper of a breeze shushed past him and he closed his eyes - just for a moment - letting himself savor her closeness. Revel in the nearness of her heartbeat.

But just for a moment.

"No! Absolutely not," he growled as he felt her reaching for him. "If you won't leave then you need to just go sit over there in the corner and keep your hands to yourself."

She rolled those impossibly big, soft eyes at him, huffing out a frustrated little breath. "Damon, don't be an idiot. Just let somebody help you for once."

Yeah, because having her inches away from him, running her soft hands all over his naked back while the scent of her wrapped itself around him, over him, through him was a _huge _help.

No thank you very much.

He grasped her firmly by the shoulders and hustled her backwards out of the room. "I've got it. But, if you insist on stalking me, why don't you make yourself useful and bring me up a little glass of pain-killer."

Or hell, just dig into the back of the liquor cabinet and bring up a whole bottle of the good stuff because he's pretty sure he's going to need it before this night is over. Of course, she doesn't take that order, either. Instead, she plops her ass down on the edge of his bed and doesn't budge.

Aaahh, that was better. Now she could sit there and eye-fuck him while he tried to pry half an acre of old-growth forest out of his back.

And she didn't fool him one bit. She could _"never unfall" _for his brother as much as she wanted, but Little Miss Gilbert couldn't keep her eyes off of _him_. Or her hands, or her dirty little mind and - he was pretty certain about this one - her mouth. No, she was just like Katherine. It might be Stefan that they loved, but it was the other brother that they wanted.

Little consolation there, but hey, sometimes you had to take what you could get.

Only he really _wasn't_ that guy anymore. He'd finally learned his lesson about these fucking Petrova women. He wasn't good enough? Not sensitive enough? Maybe _too_ sensitive? Fine, let 'em go hop into bed with Saint Stefan for a change.

See how you like that, bitches.

He gave the piece of wood he was working on a vicious twist, grunting in pain.

_Ouch, that smarts._

* * *

**_What did you think? Thanks so much for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts so far. All input is usefull and welcome. :)_**


	4. Burn on Entry

**A/N: **Sorry, I had to repost this chapter. The one I originally posted was an old draft that I'd forgotten to delete. Anyway, here it is in all it's Delena deliciousness! Hope you like it. : )

Disclaimer: I own nothing Vampire Diaries or TVD related

* * *

She was back at his side in an instant. Of course. She couldn't just go away, leave him alone, let him wallow in self-pity and mentally torture himself in peace. No, she had to be right there by his side with her giant, bottomless Bambi eyes full of hurt and understanding and - even after everything that she was going through herself - compassion. Compassion for him because he was such a fucked-up mess. A fucked-up, heart-sick, weary-to-his-soul-if-he-still-had-one mess and she knew that there wasn't a single other person on this big, beautiful planet who gave a two-shits about the state of his well-being.

"You can't do this on your own. Just face the fact that you need my help, Damon."

He ignored her because that was what he did now. It was the only way he was able to function anymore. After…that night…once he'd made certain that she was in control, that she wasn't going off the rails, that she would still have the full support of Team Elena, he'd begun to distance himself. He'd had no choice. It was simply a matter of his own survival. Regardless of that dumbass deal he'd agreed to with his equally dumbass brother, he'd already promised Elena that he would never leave her. And, as long as she needed him, he never would.

Of course that didn't mean it wasn't killing him to live in the same house with her. Thankfully, it shouldn't be long before he could relocate to a more bachelor-friendly location. He could use a little alone time. Or, maybe not alone time, just not Elena and Stefan getting their swerve on in the next room time.

It was getting easier, though, and the end was in sight because she really didn't need him anymore. Not the part of him that she'd needed for all those months when Stefan was gone - ripping his way up and down the East Coast in a fanatical frenzy of bloodlust the likes of which Damon hadn't seen in a good fifty years - or after he came back but was still…_gone_. She didn't need his support or his companionship to sustain her, to keep helping her put one foot in front of the other or just to make her smile. Yes, hard to believe that he had become such a loser that had actually been his life's goal for a while, just to try and make her smile at least once every single day. She sure as hell didn't need his screwed up version of friendship, if that was what they'd been playing at.

No, now she was back to needing only his strength, his protection, his strong arm in the fight against whatever shit-storm was headed their way this time. She had Stefan back for all the soft stuff, and Christ knows his brother excelled beyond all reasonable expectations at being soft. Of all the stupid, weak, pathetic…

_No! Not. Fucking. Going. There. Moving on. Letting it go. _

So, she had Stefan back in her loving arms and that was OK. Really. Because his brother really was a hell of a lot better at being what that girl needed in way that he never could be. He was just simply too fucked up inside for all of that. It had been too long since he'd been that person.

Since he had been a person in any sense of the word.

And he was sick of trying to find that part of himself again. Sick of ripping himself inside out to become whatever in the hell it was that everybody else thought he should be. If there was a silver lining in the horror story that was now his life, that was it. She didn't need that Damon anymore and once she hadn't _needed_ him, she hadn't _wanted_ him, either. So, now he could just go back to being that other part of himself; dark, free, unleashed from the crushing self-restraint that had been binding him so tightly. Now he could just let her go and fly again.

He could absolutely do that; it was the easiest thing in the world. You just flip a switch, turn it off.

Once he'd made that decision, he and Elena had gone on a rapid descent from…whatever it was they'd been. Best friends? Comrades in arms? Eternally cock-blocked lovers? They had become housemates, slightly self-conscious associates existing side by side in virtual silence. It was better this way and he was getting used to it.

For now though, he had to refocus on the task at hand, and get this shit out of his back. He twisted sideways, brushing her insistent fingers away, and grasped hold of another jagged splinter. He yanked it ruthlessly from his body and the sharp pain elicited another low groan before he could bite it back.

Her hand darted out, her fingers covering his gently, stopping him faster than a fully loaded vervain dart. And every bit as painfully. "Stop doing this," her voice was so soft, low and husky. "Please, Damon, stop doing this to yourself. I can't keep watching you hurt this way."

Their eyes met in the mirror, his guarded and half-hidden behind their fringe of thick, dark lashes, hers wide and brilliant with some emotion that he couldn't begin to guess at.

"Elena…," he had to stop. _This_ had to stop but instead of making her go like he knew he ought to, he leaned forward, resting his palms against the cool marble of the vanity counter and letting his head drop so he didn't have to look at her anymore. Or himself.

_Christ, what a head-case he was. What a masochistic fucking head-case. A weak, pathetic blah-blah-blah…_

It was a surrender. She knew it and she latched onto it as fast as she could, reaching for him instantly. Her hands were quick and gentle, yet, somehow, they caused him more agony than the death-bringing splinters she so efficiently removed. Her soft little hisses of pain as the vervain in the wood made contact with her fingers were somewhat touching, as if proof that she did care about him in some small way. It was enough, too, which was completely pathetic, really. How had this little girl, this child, managed to climb inside and then tear him down so completely? Why couldn't he just leave here, get out and escape this fate?

He couldn't, though. He would probably never leave her. It had become a fact that he'd faced long ago. He knew that he would likely die here, in this place of his birth, for the love of this girl and for the love of his brother, too. He would do or be whatever they needed because that was all he could offer. He'd been a terrible person and a worse brother - his long life hadn't amounted to much of anything, really. It had been wasted on bitterness and excess. If he could do something here, for these people, then that would have to be enough. He knew in his heart that he might not leave this place again but that was alright. It didn't matter and he was OK in his head with that.

While his thoughts had drifted, she had completed her task and fallen still. Her hands rested lightly against the now-healed skin of his back, surprisingly warm. She must have fed recently. Very slowly, she began to move them again, stroking him so gently that her touch was little more than a sigh. Occasionally, he felt the light brush of her lips, sending a wave of shivers through him. She made her way across his back and shoulders, touching all of him, worshipping him, setting him ablaze.

Then, she dipped down gracefully beneath his outstretched arm so that she stood between his body and the vanity, her back to the mirror. He felt her watching him but he refused to meet her stare. She reached up, taking his face in her hands and raising it so that she could look at him. He allowed it, but kept his eyes closed, shielding himself from her. She wasn't deterred. Her hands slid into his dark hair, long fingers stroking and kneading like a cat as she pulled her body against him, her lips hovering over his.

"Look at me, Damon."

Like hell that was happening. His entire body was on fire and he could feel the blood racing through him in perfect harmony with hers. Could feel it, hear it, smell it and he knew the fire that burned through him was burning in her, too. If he looked at her that would be it, the end of him.

He opened his eyes.

Arctic blue sank down into deepest brown and he was lost.

"So beautiful," she whispered against his mouth. Before he could react, her lips ghosted away across his cheek and along his jaw, her tongue delicately tracing the rim of his ear and making him shudder before, finally, the feel of her hot, sweet breath rushed out in a moan of pure, helpless need against his throat. First lips, then tongue, then teeth rasped along the pulse that throbbed just beneath the surface. Her mouth was open, wet, sucking lightly and it felt like she was swallowing him whole.

_Jesus, yes, right there. Do it. Don't stop, Elena. For fuck's sake, don't stop now._

"Stop. No more," his voice was broken glass in his throat and he could barely push the words out.

"Yes, Damon. More. You need this. _I_ need this."

He knew she was feeling every bit of it just as much as he was. He could hear her heart speeding, racing to keep time with her rushing blood. Her hands were running over him, nails raking now, leaving trails of fire in their wake while her tongue followed, licking over him, tasting him. Her lips and her teeth were everywhere at once - against his throat, across his chest, down the sculpted ridges of his belly, fighting to get lower - and they were a lethal combination. He buried his hands deep in the thick fall of her lustrous hair, pulling her closer.

Pushing her away.

"I'm not doing this," he managed somehow to grind out. "Not to you and not to Stefan."

_Not to myself._

She yanked loose from him, then grabbed his face and forced him to look her dead on. So fierce. "What's between us has nothing to do with Stefan. It never has. This is ours, Damon. This has _always_ been ours."

At her words, the hunger for her became so powerful it was like a drum pounding, pounding against the inside of his skull and it was all he could do to hold it off. The need washed over him and that terrible dark desire swirled with deadly speed through his body; he was robbed of all of his reason and iron-willed control.

He couldn't take much more. He was cast in stone, aching with it, his muscles quivering with the effort not to just grab her, spin her around so they could watch each other in the mirror. So she could see the blood come up in his eyes and the veins spread a lacework of dark beauty over his face as he sank his fangs into the arch of her long, graceful neck. So she could watch her own face change as she felt him finally sink down inside of her, taste her, take her with him on that journey of pulsing need and raging, unquenchable thirst. So she could watch when he pulled her soft, beautiful body back against his own hardness, buried inside her at last.

Because that's what he wanted right now, what her body and her mouth and the sweet, hot scent of her blood were making him want even as he fought it with everything he had. Not gentle kisses on her front porch or an hot groping session on a motel balcony. Not even the release of just tearing away clothes and crashing into each other all hungry mouths and desperate hands for a fast, sweaty fuck; pouring out all of the lust and need they kept buried so deep down in their hearts. No, they were both vampires now and he wanted the same thing she wanted; for him to seize, to bite, to consume until she screamed his name as she dropped over the brink and took flight.

It didn't matter that this was Elena and she was not made for that. It didn't matter that she wasn't his and never would be. All that mattered was this devastating, overwhelming need to have her.

This hunger that never left him.

* * *

It hadn't been long before the rest of the group took Damon's departure as their cue to clear out as well. It was late, they'd already discussed what the impact his reckless behavior might have on their own existence and, to be honest, Stefan was about as inclined to rehash the whole situation as Damon was. Unfortunately, he didn't have his brother's rock solid resolve when it came to shutting people down so he waited politely for them to reach their own conclusion that it was time to go.

He envied Damon his fierce independence more than ever.

He headed over to the bar, finally ready for a drink. He wasn't as big a fan of bourbon as Damon was, but it'd been a rough night and he could use one. Jeremy was still hanging around, maybe waiting on Elena, maybe just too wound up to head for his own bed. He felt the same way, to be honest. As worrisome as tonight had been, it was only going to get worse. This event had just been a forerunner to what was about to go down.

Stefan splashed out a small amount of alcohol into a second glass and waved it in Jeremy's direction, "Think you could do justice to one of these?"

Jeremy looked uncertain but then decided to just go for it. It had been a pretty weird night, after all, and topping it off by getting drunk with one of his vampire sister's vampire boyfriends would be a perfect ending.

"Thanks," he took the crystal tumbler and then sank down into the softness of the old-fashioned sofa, letting out a long sigh. He looked down into the glass, not drinking, just thinking about the events of the last couple of hours. He sloshed the liquid around a little, considering it before choking down a quick swallow. He had to force himself not to gasp out loud.

Holy shit, that stuff was strong. And Damon drinks it like water all day long! He shook his head, trying to clear out the after-burn. He looked up and saw Stefan watching him, a look of amusement on his usually somber face. He took another quick swallow, managing to handle it better this time, to his great relief.

He took a deep breath, preparing himself, "Um, listen, Stefan. There's something I need to tell you," he paused, trying not to think about just how pissed off the older Salvatore would be if he let the liquor go to his head and started spilling everything. Probably pretty darn pissed. In the end, he gave a mental shrug and jumped in anyway. "What happened tonight at the Grille…that wasn't Damon's fault. He threatened to compel me if I told anybody about it but…he didn't do anything wrong. It…it was me. He was just helping me after I did something stupid." He looked up, his face wearing a look of complete puzzlement. "He almost died tonight trying to _protect _me."

Stefan laughed faintly, "And that surprises you?"

"Well," Jeremy wrinkled his eyebrows, giving him a look as if he were a little dim, "Yeah, it kind of does. A little bit. Yes."

Stefan considered the boy in front of him quietly for a moment, his eyes dark and his face serious. "I know what happened tonight, Jeremy."

"What…? How?"

"Because I know my brother," he replied simply.

"Well, then why didn't you say something?" Disbelief caused Jeremy's voice to rise, "You just stood there and let them rip him apart. Why would you do that if you knew it wasn't true?"

The vampire just shook his head, "Because I also know that he wouldn't want anyone jumping to his defense. He doesn't care what they think of him. I know his choice would be to let them just hate him. In fact, I think part of him needs that hate."

Jeremy let out a harsh bark of angry laughter, "Oh yeah, I almost forgot. You're the king of free choice."

Stefan looked at him in silence, grim tension pulling his brows together. He made his way over to the chair opposite where Jeremy sat on the couch and dropped down into it. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, eyes staring at the antique rug beneath his feet. After a few moments of silence where he seemed to gain control of himself, he looked up; those forest green eyes dark and unfathomable.

"Listen, Jeremy, I know how you feel about me. About what I let happen to Elena. There's nothing I can ever say or do that'll make you understand how sorry I am about it, the guilt I feel. The regret for letting her just slip through my fingers. For…for letting her die." he paused, the muscles of his face fighting for control. "I can't be sorry that Matt survived. He deserved to live, to have a normal life. But…I'd never sacrifice her for him. Not intentionally and not because she asked me to do it. It was a mistake, an accident. I never thought she would die."

Jeremy pulled his eyes away, couldn't stand looking at the other man when he could see so clearly the torture he putting himself through. After a while of sitting in tense silence, he spoke again.

"I guess I can get what happened with my sister. I still can't believe it happened the way it did but I understand that it was an accident," He looked up, forcing Stefan to meet his eyes, "But I don't understand this thing with you and your brother."

"I know you don't, but without going into a full length documentary about our family history, let's just say that I know Damon better than anyone and I know what he's doing right now. He's shutting it down, shutting it out. Shutting all of us out for a while until his head clears."

Jeremy shook his head in confusion, "I thought all this time you were happy that he was getting his humanity back, _feeling_ or…whatever it is. How is it OK for him to just shut it off again now? Won't he go back to being, like, neck-snapping, people-eating Damon again? You remember…Bad Damon? That's the opposite of what we need right now. I don't think Bonnie's just gonna sit back and watch Damon change back into his old self."

Stefan knew that Jeremy's fears were reasonable. After all, he _was _one of Damon's victims. He was well aware of all the trouble and heartache his brother was capable of causing and yet, it still troubled Stefan to hear him described that way. Damon had come a long way from where he'd started, had fought so many of his demons, and it wasn't fair to have him summed up as if he were nothing more than a bomb waiting to explode. Especially not by the kid who's life he'd just saved.

"As a human, Damon was…" Stefan paused, his eyes drifting away from Jeremy, looking into the past. A smile - a real one - ghosted across his face as the memories came, "he was a force of nature, carefree, impulsive, adventurous. He could be reckless and very careless sometimes but never cruel or mean. You'd never find a more loyal and generous friend than him. He just had this incredible spirit, this passion for life and he never let anyone control him. That was the real Damon." He paused again, his smile fading and took a sip of his drink before continuing.

"As a vampire - and you know this from watching Elena - existing personality traits are so powerfully intensified and your emotions are so heightened that they can completely overwhelm you, destroy you. For Damon trying to control all of that on his own was impossible so for nearly one hundred and fifty years, he's either had to feel nothing or he's felt everything at such an intense level. That's what nearly ruined him - trying to exist in those extremes. This last year or so is the first time he's been…even close to level, that I know of. Now he's lost some of that control again."

Now Jeremy was completely confused, "Then it feels like just turning your back on someone when they need your help the most. I don't get it…"

"Mine and Damon's relationship is…complicated… and I know it may seem hard to understand, Jeremy, but believe me when I tell you that I don't enjoy watching my brother suffer. There's not a thing I can do about that right now, though. He has to get that some of that control back himself before he'll even begin to let anyone near him. But he's trying. He's fighting for it and we just need to let him do that."

"I don't know…" Jeremy shook his head doubtfully.

"I mean it," Stefan's tone had sharpened, "Damon isn't completely…stable…right now. Let him get his feet back underneath him and you try to steer around him until he does. He's fighting for it, Jeremy, and he'll get there; he's stronger than you can imagine. For now, though, we need to let him try to deal with it in his own way."

Stefan rose suddenly from the couch, tossing back the last of his drink before turning to walk away, "I sure as hell can't help him. I couldn't even help myself," his bitter words echoed hollowly.

Suddenly, a loud crash followed by a stream of violent cursing erupted from the general vicinity of Damon's room. Stefan and Jeremy leapt to their feet, a quick look of confusion and resignation mirrored on their faces.

What the hell could possibly be happening now?

* * *

**Thanks so much for reading this latest chapter. I hope you liked it and I'd love to hear your thoughts so don't forget to leave a review if you have a minute. Any and all feedback is incredibly helpful. **


	5. When in Rome

**A/N: Thanks so much for sticking with this story. I know it's building gradually but I really love to fortify the characters first and foremost. Have no fear, though, because the next three chapters are done and they've got some action, some suspense and some delicious DElena drama. Fun!**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing Vampire Diaries or TVD related

* * *

"Do it now," her throaty voice became a hoarse cry, "I need you, Damon.

Somewhere, deep down beneath the weight of this sudden passion, her words struck him like a silken punch in the face.

_"I_ love _him, Damon."_

His body went instantly cold. Reality rushed back in to push the storm that had nearly dragged him under back out to sea with a suddenness that left him dizzy, shaky and uncertain.

_"I have to let you go."_

The cold, empty parking lot beneath his back. Alone. Beaten and irreparably broken. Waiting with outstretched arms for death's welcome embrace.

Then, more quickly than the first, another memory crashed over him. Another velvet-covered assault on his psyche.

_"I've never loved you. It was always Stefan."_

A single, hitching breath was all he allowed himself before wrenching free, hurling backwards against the hard tiled wall, feeling it shatter beneath the weight of his fury.

"Get the fuck off me, Katherine!"

All disheveled clothes and wild hair and narrowed eyes, she watched him from across the room, weighing her options before - in the end - conceding the game. "What's the matter, boyfriend, don't want to play with me anymore?" She giggled girlishly, a disconcerting sound from such an ancient creature.

"Fucking psychotic bitch!" Damon pulled himself out of the wall, a shower of cracked and broken tiles clattering to the floor behind him. He took a steadying breath and then, calmly, coldly, "Get. Out."

"But we were having so much fun," she pouted, twirling a lock of hair around one finger. "Hot, filthy fun, Damon and I know that's your favorite kind. I can tell by the way you kiss." She smiled slyly, sidling up to him in full on sexy-kitten mode. Damon went to push past her and instead found himself back against the wall but this time with her slender body holding him firmly in place. She leaned in, rubbing her face against his neck, sending an arrow of unwanted desire shooting through him.

_He really was a fucking head-case. No doubt about it._

He felt her smile against him as her fingers danced playfully over his chest and beyond. She laughed when they grazed over the rock-hard length of him. "Oh, my! You really were having fun. It doesn't have to be over, Damon. Remember how good we were together back when you were just a boy?" she purred, "A beautiful, hot-blooded boy that I could've happily spent a lifetime climbing on top of even when you were just a lousy human." She leaned back so she could look him in the eye. "Can you even imagine how it would be between us now?" She gave a delicate shiver and moaned deep in her throat. "I think about it _all_ the time."

She ran her fingers lightly along his jaw, smiling wickedly. He didn't bother trying to jerk away, just tilted his head slightly, watching warily to see what she'd do next. She brought her mouth close to his, all the while holding his gaze. She leaned in, took his lip between her teeth, nipping sharply then tracing her tongue over the wound, taking his blood like a drug. "Mmmm, delicious. So dark. God, I've missed you, Damon." she whispered into his mouth.

_Damn it to hell, these Petrova bitches._

He grabbed her, spun her, slammed her back against the wall, trapping her with his body as his mouth crashed down on hers. She responded instantly, fisting his hair in her hands, pulling him closer while she jerked up, wrapping her legs tight around his waist, her heels digging in, holding him prisoner.

She hadn't been lying, either. He could feel her through his clothes as she pushed against him, thrusting her hips urgently; hot and wet and ready for him to slide right in. He wrenched his head loose from her grip, "What do you want, you crazy little bitch?" he hissed against her ear.

"The same thing I always want from you, Damon." she laughed, low and sultry as her hands moved down his back to grab his ass and pull him forcefully against her. "The same thing you want."

And just for a second, for one stupid, desperate, lonely moment he considered it. He considered just giving in, surrendering, sinking into this terrible, empty creature that he'd thrown most of his life away obsessing over. Just one moment of mindless pleasure with no pain, no strings, no guilt. Who better than this beautiful, heartless body with the face of an angel. She was perfect for him.

She _was_ him.

He sighed, leaning his forehead against hers, catching his breath. Then he did the only thing he could do. He let her go, slipping back from her grip. She rolled her eyes and let him, knowing that the moment had passed.

"Pull yourself together, sweetheart. Your eternal love is about to walk through the door in about two seconds," he said grimly.

He stepped back, holding her waist as her legs unwrapped themselves and her feet hit the floor, steadying her carefully like the Southern gentleman that some part of him would always be before turning away.

He didn't see her watching him as his shields came back up and his carefully constructed walls were raised once again. He didn't see the understanding that softened her face and the sadness that flooded her eyes, just for a moment. She reached out; let her fingers graze his wrist, "Damon.."

"No more, Katherine. I'm done. I'm not playing any more games tonight."

So, she quickly readjusted her own armor because their lives were just one continuous battle - sometimes fought against each other, sometimes side by side.

"What's going on up here?" Stefan strode through the open bedroom doors, Jeremy hot on his heels. "What was all that crashing around?"

Damon shook his head, baffled that his entire encounter with Katherine had lasted just a few short minutes It had felt like eternity. Like the blink of an eye. But then, she always had known how to make the most of their time together.

"Relax, Batman and Boy Wonder, everything's fine. We just have an unexpected…visitor," he waved his hand in the general direction of the bathroom as he made his way into the closet. "One you may or may not be happy to see. I'll let you decide that one for yourself."

"Stefan!" her voice held all the gleeful joy of child getting her first puppy as she flung herself at his brother.

Of course.

_Fuck. Me._

* * *

"So, I hear Kat Lite finally got her fangs. It's about damn time, too," Katherine sauntered across the parlor and flopped down on the couch, spinning sideways and flinging her legs across Damon's lap. "I thought my guys were gonna get themselves killed looking out for her. Now she can finally take care of herself, thank God." She looked around, puzzled. "Where is the mini-wants-to-be-me, anyway?"

Damon shoved her feet off of his lap and stood, making his way to the bar, "That's actually a very good question. Stefan?"

"She drove Bonnie home. Making sure she got in safe. Once they're inside her house, they'll be alright - she spelled the place, just like she did all of our houses. Very restricted entry."

"Which brings up a good point; just how the hell did you get in here, Katherine? Except for a very short list, the inside of this place is a "_No Trying to Fucking Kill Us_" zone. Want to explain how you made it past security?" Damon topped off his own drink as well as filling one for Katherine. He passed hers over the back of the couch and she smiled in appreciation.

"Such a gentleman." She twinkled, "Until bedtime rolls around, that is."

He just gave her a weary half-smile, not rising to the bait. There was really no other way to deal with her and, to be honest, he was too exhausted to bother. He'd been turned inside out tonight and his tank was dry as dust.

"And no, I don't care to explain. What you don't know won't hurt you in this case. However," she paused for effect and made sure that they all knew it, "there are a bunch of things you don't know that are just about to get your asses fried. So, boys, we're gonna need to pow-wow and you might as well invite over your little Mystic Falls High Supernatural Society. The quicker the better."

"Still trying to be the belle of the ball, Katherine? Get everyone dancing to your tune? Desperation doesn't smell that great on you, I have to say." He'd given it his best shot but some things were just meant to be and he and Katherine sparring with each other was apparently one of them.

"Didn't take much to get you dancing with me again," she replied with a wink, saucy as ever.

He gave her a single-malt salute with his half-full glass. "You know me, Kat. Any port in a storm. I've never been overly particular, as I think a certain summer of 1864 vividly illustrates."

"Well, sweetie, second-best can't be picky, I suppose. I guess that's why I decided to throw you a bone. Can you say pity-fuck, Damon?" but for once there was no rancor in her words and and he could hear the laughter behind behind them. Yes, she was pushing buttons but it was out of habit and nothing more sinister.

Damon had to hand it to her; she was a slutty, selfish sociopath, but she definitely had her charm. Even after everything she'd put him through, she had the ability to actually make him laugh through his absolute hatred of her. And there was nobody better at coming out on top than that dark-haired minx. She was a survivor, first and foremost.

Which, of course, had led to the absolute and utter destruction of his own pride, self-worth and ability to form any true emotional bond with another person, but hey, live and learn. Right?

Fortunately, Stefan chose that moment to step in and act as line judge in their little tennis match. "If we can just concentrate on matters at hand, that would be great, you two,"

Katherine eyed him. As always, it was the younger brother who was the calm one, the reasonable one. The one so desperately in control. What none of these backwoods morons seemed to get was that it was actually a bad thing. Nobody could maintain that level of iron-fisted control over every aspect of their lives and not be completely twisted up inside. It just wasn't possible. Between the brothers, it might seem like Damon was the powder keg, one spark away from total disaster but in reality, she knew that it was Stefan who was the biggest threat. They'd watched it happen just months ago and they still didn't seem to get that he was the one who was on the verge of one big-ass explosion.

Again.

And what she had to tell them wasn't going to help that situation one little bit. Once they found out that the Council and their pathetic _human_ of a vampire hunter was the least of their concerns, all hell was gonna break loose and she was pretty sure she knew which brother would blow first.

* * *

The soft brush of her sliding between the sheets brought him up out of the hazy drifting doze that he used as a substitute for sleep most nights. Her arms slipped around him, pulling her body against his; skin to skin all the way down and he couldn't even try to lie to himself and say it didn't feel like heaven. But….

"Thought I told you to get out," it was barely a whisper in the stillness

"And I told you I missed you and I'm sick and tired of watching you hurting. Jesus, Damon, martyr yourself much? What the hell happened to you? You used to know how to have a good time." She nuzzled in closer, tucking her head beneath his chin and slipped one long leg between his.

He grunted slightly at her complete invasion of his personal space but instead of pushing her away, he draped an arm over her shoulder and began idly toying with the trailing ends of her long hair, "Not really your concern. Besides, I think you mistake me for another Salvatore. You remember - slightly taller but not nearly as hot. A little less likely to throttle you first chance he gets."

She chuckled against his chest as her hand glided down over his hip. "Jealous? You shouldn't be," she pulled back and met his eyes, eyes that shimmered like rain in the pale moonlight, "I mean it. Don't overthink this, Damon. It's been a long day. I unloaded a lot on you. I think you need this so why not just take it?"

She shifted slightly, pushing him over onto his back and he let her. He felt no guilt or anger as he felt her lips moving across his skin and no urge to push her away. She was like a dusky-hued mist drifting over him, taking her time and showering a waterfall of butterfly kisses down his throat, across his chest, trailing over his stomach. The cool air caressed their skin as she pulled the sheets away, gradually making her way down his body until she found him. Her hot breath was a sigh of desert wind, scorching even as it soothed and when her mouth finally took him he couldn't stop the instant response. The desperate groan, the quick, hard arch of his back, the ruthless pull of his hands as they tangled in her hair.

_Holy_ _hell, how had he ever forgotten how amazing she was at this?_

She needed no guidance and it didn't take long before the wet heat of her eloquent mouth and the clever play of her tongue had his muscles tightening, his fingers clenching in her hair, a low growl tearing loose from deep in his chest. It seemed endless but gradually the growl wound down to a sigh, his restless hands gentled and then eventually pulled her up to rest once more in the curve of his body. He should have shoved her away. Should have tossed out a careless, cruel remark that would send her flouncing off to wherever it was she was holing up. Should have made it clear that this was nothing to him; no more than an empty release - a sloughing off of too much emotion and stress and tension.

But he didn't.

And he didn't think much about the _"why" _of that even though whatever the fuck had just happened – that he'd let happen – was beyond messed up. Even for him. But he'd had a spectacularly shit day, month, year and frankly, dear, he didn't give a damn. He'd been tangled up in this drama, with these kids for so long now that it felt good to be with someone who just…_knew_. Someone who'd felt all the things he'd felt. Someone who could give and not just take, for a change.

_How ironic was that?_

The only person to offer him even the smallest slice of comfort was this bi-polar damsel of destruction who'd nearly ended his life. Intentionally. More than once.

_Seriously. Messed up._

Reading him easily, she kept her silence as his heart rapidly slowed and his breath evened out, drawing lazy patterns with her fingers on his pale, ageless skin. Finally whispering, "Don't overcomplicate it, baby."

"Because you're so simple, Katherine?" he could feel himself starting to drift again under her touch. He really was more than tired, his body still hurting from too much damage over too short a time. She was incredibly soft and a little bit warm and her hands had always been one of the most gentle, soothing things he'd ever felt.

"Because I'm your friend, Damon. That's all. I just want to be here with you tonight. No plots, no mad schemes, no ulterior motives. None of it." she brought her hand up and laid it against his cheek, "Go to sleep now. Real sleep; you're exhausted. It'll all still be here in the morning."

It wasn't long before those beautiful eyes drifted shut and she felt his fingers gradually fall still in her hair. She lay on her side facing him, tucking her hand under her cheek and companionably sharing his pillow as she watched him sleep. The sight of him like this hurled her back through time, and she was a little bit shocked how young he appeared while so relaxed. All of the worries and regrets had fallen away, leaving his face smooth and untouched by time; a study of strong bone and elegant lines, he was once again her sweet, reckless Salvatore boy. Had he really been such a child back then? It hadn't felt like it at the time.

She reached up, carefully brushing the hair off of his forehead. She was surprised at the sudden squeezing ache in her chest as a part of her yearned to feel the softness of those long-lost ebony curls twist around her fingers. She tilted her face up to his, placing a light kiss on his mouth, before curling back against him, savoring his closeness in a way she never had when it had been so freely given.

* * *

**Thanks so much for reading this latest chapter. Next comes some action and, hey! I think Elena's back and I don't know how happy she's going to be about this latest turn of events. : ) Please feel free to leave a review. Any and all feedback is a huge help.**


	6. Kat Scratch Fever

**A/N: **Well, Elena finally came to the party! Honestly, it's been hard for me to introduce her because I had to get back to a place of love and understanding toward her before I could write her. But I think I've found it. And, as promised, the plot thickens! I've tried to spend some quality time on character development - especially this chapter and getting the feel for our girl - but this story isn't only about the angst. There's something going on in Mystic Falls and the gang is just on the edge of falling into the fire.

Also, thanks so much to those who are following, have sent PM's and who've taken a minute to write a review. It all helps so much for a first time writer. You're the best!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything Vampire Diaries or TVD related.

* * *

She could have been at his door in less than the blink of an eye, but instead she dragged her feet along the antique-carpeted hall like a naughty child headed for the principal's office. She dreaded what she was going to have to do, but she _would _do it. She owed him at least that (_and _so_ much more_) and no matter how much she'd like to avoid it, she would make this trip up the stairs and down the long hallway to his rooms and she would say what she needed to say and then she'd go back to being his almost-silent roommate again. The world could go back to its new reality.

It would be hard but to _not_ do it was unthinkable. Because how many times had he been the one to come to her, to tell her the truth when silence or an outright lie would have served him better? How many times had he looked into her eyes and told her things he'd had to force out through clenched teeth because they'd been so hard to say? But he'd always done it; he'd never flinched away from the hard stuff and he'd never given himself a break.

"_You're lying to me, you're lying to Stefan and, most of all, you're lying to yourself." _

He was the one who wouldn't lie, who would never hide, and who wouldn't shield himself. Even in what they'd both thought were his last moments, he'd been so brutally honest that being his confessor had been among the most painful experiences of her life. And she'd had a few.

"_I made a lot of choices that got me here. I deserve this. I deserve to die…"_

She tried never to think of that terrible night when they'd curled up together on his bed, him at peace and her with desperate, pathetic hope while they waited for him to die. Just that once it had crept back in, on the night of her eighteenth birthday party when he'd presented her with Stefan's necklace - yet again - and a moment had passed between them. It had been an acknowledgement of ….what? Of a deepening connection between them? Or was it just the silent acceptance of the way things would need to continue between them? That she would take his friendship, his loyalty and his love, use it (_and him_) to be her strength? That she was welcome to take what he offered in order to keep going until Stefan was returned to her?

"_I don't deserve you…but my brother does"_

Yes. It turned out to be exactly what had passed between them. She had used him. She had taken everything he had to give and then some. She hadn't realized it at the time, of course. Hadn't understood at all until much later.

A lifetime ago…

She'd cared about him, had already begun to feel those first bands of something stronger swirling through her bloodstream, twisting themselves around her heart. She'd never, ever wanted to hurt him, but in truth his love had been a burden, a terrible weight to bear. She had completely trusted in his bravery, in his strength, in his commitment to keep her safe and whole but she hadn't really trusted _him_. He was rash and emotional. He lashed out. He'd killed Jeremy right in front of her.

And what he'd done to her. She'd looked into those hypnotic eyes as something inside of him had come apart, had just broken loose and shattered itself against the rocky, broken shores that made up his soul. She'd watched it happen, had seen him surrender to the monster

…_to his heart…_

and become someone else. He'd forced his blood and his will down her throat, sealing her fate and his, or so they'd believed. It had taken several innocent lives to rectify that decision. She'd been able to let herself move past it, but the horror and the guilt would live forever inside of her.

Of course, she realized now that she hadn't known him at all back then. Not what had motivated him and certainly not the part of him that he hid away from the world. She had never entirely gotten beyond the dark mystery of his vampire trappings and so when she'd looked at him, the first thing she always saw was a dangerous bundle of passion, stubbornness and bad choices waiting to happen. He had rarely proven her wrong.

And yet…

She'd also been unable to keep away from him. Without her fully realizing when or how it had begun, he'd gradually drawn her to him as if he were casting a glamour for that very purpose. Being around him was like making plans to fly to the sun - you knew in your mind that you would go up in a searing burst of flame and ash but the intensity of it's heat and power was just too compelling to resist. Everything about him was just … too much. Her lack of control had terrified her and she blamed him for luring her in. She'd been too young to understand any of it back then.

"_Which one would it be, Elena? Which one of us gets the goodbye?"_

_Why, you both do, of course. Didn't you know that? We're all saying goodbye to each other right this very minute and never will we meet this way again._

But they hadn't known. And now, the time for all that had passed. Now they were roommates, walking side by side on what felt like different planes of existence.

* * *

"Matt, run!" her voice was already growing weaker, the vervaine spreading like liquid fire through her system, but she could see him, fighting them. Sweet, wonderful, human Matt.

"No, Matt! Run! Go!" She could barely hear her own voice. How would he be able to hear her?

But he did because he turned to her with those soft, denim-blue eyes and that strong, all-American face. God, would she ever love a boy the way she'd loved this boy, innocently and with all of her heart? Probably not. Those days were over for good and for Caroline Forbes that was maybe the saddest thing of all about her current _(and questionable) _existence.

Well, that and the fact that she'd just been well and truly vervained by one of the most vicious looking vamps ever and that _absolutely_ included Damon Salvatore on his worst day. Damon was a sweet little floppy-eared Labrador Retriever puppy compared to this redneck asshole and his gross, rotting teeth.

"Eeewww! Floss much, d-bag?" she managed groan as she pushed against the onslaught of herbs flooding her system. There was just no excuse for poor dental hygiene. She had to wonder who would have turned such a revolting specimen of humanity in the first place. No standards whatsoever.

She was able to roll her head to the side just a tiny bit so she could see Matt one last time. Poor Matt. He really needed to get a normal life with less dead people.

The darkness closed over her, the pain finally fading.

* * *

She finally arrived at his door and was so lost in thought that she almost smashed face-first into it.

_What the hell? Why was his door closed? _

She couldn't remember a time…ever…that he'd purposefully closed himself up in his rooms. He had the most liberal open-door policy of anyone she'd ever met - never locked the house, never closed up any rooms or locked away valuables. Hell, his bathroom didn't even _have_ a door. He always welcomed even the most dangerous creatures and irritating people into his home with a kind of relaxed Southern hospitality. Shutting the bedroom door just wasn't him.

Then she realized she was hearing voices coming from within. No, not voices.

Laughter.

Damon was laughing. A low, dark rumble, unrestrained and….completely foreign to her.

She'd never heard him laugh.

She'd seen him smile in a hundred different ways in every possible situation. She'd even heard him chuckle with Ric or Stefan on occasion but never this full-blown, outright laugh. It was all she could do to keep from pressing herself against his door in a crazy attempt to soak up the sound of his happiness through the wood, absorb it through her pores and hold it inside her body. Surely his laughter, since it was such a rare and precious thing, would be a powerful talisman against all of the terrible things that always seemed to be waiting for them outside the walls of this house.

In fact, she was actually moving forward, leaning against the door when it suddenly seemed to vanish from beneath her cheek. If it weren't for her shiny new super-reflexes, she would have been on her ass at his feet.

"Elena." He stepped forward so that he was just a hair too close, his smirky little grin letting her know that he was well aware that she'd been lurking. "Can I help you?"

Shirtless (_when wasn't he?_) and cocky as ever, the remnants of laughter clung to his face like glitter at a Decade Dance. She could barely tear her eyes away. "I…um…yes. Yes." She was finally able to blink, "We need to talk, Damon."

"Mmm hmm," he murmured, tilting his head slightly in that curious, birdlike way he had when he was considering something. She felt like a butterfly, pinned to a board. "Well, I'm a little busy right now. How about we rendezvous for coffee in fifteen? And don't forget, a single shot of cream for me. Katherine takes hers black and sweet." He stepped back and closed the door quietly but firmly in her face.

_What the _hell_?_

* * *

"Caroline? Are you in here?"

Still nothing. How long had it been?

Matt shifted, struggling against his bonds but his hands and feet were completely immobilized and gone almost entirely numb. No wiggle room whatsoever. Wherever he was it was dusty and hollow sounding. Other than that, all he knew for sure was that the place had really hard floors and that every seam was sealed up tight. Total darkness prevailed.

He moved as best he could, scrabbling around and trying to roll over, to sit up and assess whether he actually had any injuries or not. He didn't feel too bad, he supposed. He was achy and his muscles were sore, but that could have been from football practice or bussing tables for all he knew. He had no idea how long he'd been lying here. His head hurt and he was pretty certain that hadn't been a sports related injury.

Again, he whispered softly, knowing Caroline would hear him if she was anywhere nearby, "Caroline? You've got to wake up, Caroline. C'mon, Care."

Nothing. No sound of breathing, no rustle of any kind of movement. Just dead air and darkness. Maybe he did have a concussion because he felt a sudden, uncontrollable rush of vomit up the back of his throat.

_Please, please don't let me puke! Caroline is fine. If they wanted her dead, they would have staked her right away because my girl is DEADLY. She's fine. Caroline is fine. She's going to be just fine. Please, be okay..._

Somewhere out there where it was light, whoever had grabbed him had Caroline, too.

* * *

Hell if she was making coffee for that bitch. Or for him. Ever.

Damn it!

What was wrong with him? What was he thinking? He was holed up in his bedroom - _laughing_ - with that evil, lying, whore. What could he be thinking?

That stupid fucker!

Her thoughts and her vocabulary were completely out of control; everything juddering around wildly inside her head like it was some kind of dysfunctional Cuisinart. Her body was positively vibrating with fury, frustration, confusion…too many emotions to put a name to. She didn't want to be in here, stalking back and forth across the kitchen, slamming cups onto the counter, sloshing coffee around.

She wanted to be out. She wanted to run. She wanted to fly through the forest, screaming at the top of her lungs until all of these _feelings_ were scorched away, incinerated and laid waste too. How was she supposed to move ahead, move on, adjust when all of _this _was still trapped inside?

She wanted to hunt.  
She wanted to slaughter something.  
She needed the chase, the capture, the kill.

God, the rage was incredible and terrible. This overwhelming need to destroy anything that stumbled into her path was roaring through her blood and she was nearly powerless in its ferocious grip.

She spun suddenly, the empty cup in her hand flying across the room with deadly speed.

"For fuck's sake, Elena! What are you doing?" Damon snatched it out of the air just before it crashed into his face.

Damn it!

Another lethal ceramic missile plunged across the void. He had to stretch for that one, stopping it before it caused real damage to the custom cabinetry.

"Seriously? Stop it! Your aim sucks and I just cleaned in here."

She eyed her own full cup. Considering it.

"Don't. Even." His voice was as calm as ever but there was steel running through it. He was warning her to check herself, just as he'd had to do so many times since…that night.

With harsh breaths and narrowed eyes, she stared him down. He didn't relent, trapping her in the ice-cold prison of his gaze. Neither moved a muscle, neither blinked nor spoke; they were frozen, their eyes locked on each other as the seconds and minutes _(hours?) _passed.

Then, it broke. As suddenly as it had erupted, the volcanic rage was gone. That's how it worked. Emotions came in, washed over her and swept her away. She was like so much jetsam, dragged along on the relentless rush as the river of her irrational feelings fought to escape the confines of her body. She was completely at their mercy, utterly powerless, all control lost. She would do anything, say anything in those moments. There was no filter, no internal monitor. It was as if the girl she'd been all of her life ceased to exist and she just _became_ this angry, vicious thing that she was apparenty going to be in this new life and she couldn't have hated herself more.

It was terrifying.

What was even more terrifying was what was left in it's wake. Emptiness. A vast, open grassland of nothingness; empty wind-blown miles stretching out before her as far as her vampire eyes could see. Forever.

She was plagued by the thought that this is what it would always be, that this is all _she_ would ever be. Is this what Damon and Stefan suffered constantly? If so, it was no wonder they were so heartbreakingly fucked-up. This would ruin anyone.

She looked up, met his eyes again. His sad, beautiful, completely sympathetic eyes. "Okay. I'm done now."

In what had become his new, typical Damon way, he accepted her response with a nod and no further comment, strolling across the kitchen to set his captured cups on the counter and pour out two servings. In one he splashed a shot of rich cream, in the other a generous measure of dark, turbinado sugar.

She watched him, baffled by his calm. How did he do it? Wouldn't anyting rattle him anymore? Could nothing reach him now in this new state of polite detatchment that they functioned in? "What's wrong with you, Damon? How can you just…" She tried to stop herself but she really just couldn't, "How can you _be_ with her after everything she's done? What the hell is going on?"

Oh no! Apparently her verbal filter was still off. She couldn't believe she'd just ventured into that completely "none of her business" zone.

_Only it was her business, damn it._

Oh, how she wished that idiot Vampire Elena would shut up!

He paused. Though he was completey unaware of her loony internal dialogue, her question still surprised him. They didn't really "talk" anymore, the way they used to. He picked up the cups and made his way over to the cozy breakfast nook tucked into a corner of the kitchen. "Let it go, Elena. I have."

She shook her head, loose hair tumbling around her shoulders, "I don't know how."

"You'll learn. Living this life, it's an exercise in letting things go. I know it sounds ridiculous coming from the poster child for obsessive behavior, but it's something you'll need to learn to do. I held on to some things for way to long - Katherine, primarily - but most things I've been able to just move on from. It's the only way you'll survive it. We live too long, we experience too much. If you try to keep it all, you'll end up completely twisted." He took a sip of his coffee, his eyebrows quirking at her above the rim, "Just ask my baby brother."

So it was going to be right back to Stefan, was it? As usual.

"How very Zen of you." She managed to grind out, snatching her own cup off of the counter and stomping over to join him.

"So, what's the big reveal? What do we need to talk about? I'm assuming Stefan filled you in on what Katherine had to say last night. Or this morning." He ran his fingers through his already disheveled hair and yawned. "Sorry, I'm a little jumbled up on my time right now. It was a long night and I haven't had enough coffee yet."

_Huh-uh! No way was she going to think about what Damon had been doing in the wee hours of the morning. _

Of course, even though they were on the verge of a serious, emotional moment, her brain immediately sent her an XXX-rated picture of what it thought he'd been up to. Which she knew for a fact would be impossible to get out of her mind because it certainly wasn't the first time she'd thought about what he'd be like in…

_Okay, soooo far off track now! Damn these crazy vampire hormones!_

Completely unable to look him in the eye at this point, she managed to mumble, "Yeah, Stefan and I talked a little bit this morning, after I came back over. We definitely need to get to work on that with everybody else. " She finally managed to look up at him but it didn't matter. His gaze was fixed outside the window, watching the birds that clustered around the hanging feeder in the garden. "But that's not what I want to talk to you about."

He didn't react, working the silence.

"I just…I want to apologize. For last night. I shouldn't have attacked you like that. I was just so worked up over Jeremy, so upset and…and you got in the line of fire."

He gave a snort of disgust, "That kid has a death wish, I swear. What did he tell you?"

She shook her head, "He didn't tell me anything, but I know you better than that. I know you wouldn't have intentionally gotten Jeremy into anything with the Council or whatever you've got going on right now. Like I said, everything was racing around in my head and I couldn't get rid of it. I freaked out for a minute. I'm sorry."

He was watching her now, his eyes sharp and slightly narrowed. "So, you lost your shit and I got to be your dart-board for…what? Old time's sake? Because I'm the obvious target in any bad situation?"

Though he didn't sound particularly angry, she knew that she'd hurt him. Remembering the way she'd acted, she felt the heat begin to rise in her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Damon. I was absolutely in the wrong. I know it but, well…sometimes I'm such a bitch now. I just don't know…"

He let her suffer for a long moment before flashing a grin, "Now? Newsflash, Elena, that's not a new development."

And just like that she knew she was forgiven. Forgiven for unleashing her fear-soaked adrenalin on him and for basically making him look like a complete asshole in front of her friends. In most things, Damon was infinitely complicated and difficult to deal with but in some areas, he was a master of simplicity.

The art of friendship was one of those areas.

He offered his friendship almost never but when he did, it was solid, unselfish and of a completely non-judgmental nature. There were no strings attached - if you were his friend, then you simply were. Done deal. Until she'd discovered it with him, she hadn't realized what a rare treasure that was. She wondered - not for the first time - what he had been like prior to 1864.

She reached across the table and covered his hand with hers, smiling almost shyly. "Thank you, Damon."

A soft _'shush'_ swept through the room, making them both startle like guilty teenagers.

"Hands off, little girl. You had your chance."

* * *

The sudden blast of light hitting his retinas after so long in the total blackness felt like laser surgery in progress. He squinted, trying to make out anything at all but it was pointless. Nothing but a darkened outline against the door.

"Hey, human, how you doin' in there?"

* * *

**Thanks so much for reading! I hope you like it. I tried to keep it short(ish) because the next chapter is a bit longer and is almost entirely action but I wanted to make sure we all knew where our girl Elena stands at this point before moving on. I'd love to hear what you think so please take a minute to leave a review or PM me. :)**


	7. Unlock the Doors

**A/N: Thanks so much for sticking with this story and for all of you who've taken the time to leave me feedback and follow along. I'm so sorry for the delay in updating. I had some work deadlines and personal things that had to come first and, even though I have chapters that are finished or nearly so, I wasn't able to get back to update. Thanks again, so much, for your patience.**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing TVD or Vampire Diaries related**

* * *

"Right back at you, Granny." Elena snapped, before she could stop herself. Of course, her regret for saying out loud what she'd been thinking was instant and overwhelming. There was no way she wanted Katherine knowing how upset she was at the thought of her with Damon. It would only make the evil old hag more determined to hang on to him. She could feel her cheeks flaming and she knew Damon would notice; he missed exactly nothing.

_Stupid overactive vampire emotions_

Yet, Katherine, in her typical unpredictable style just laughed, "Oooh, Damon, you didn't tell me our little pussy cat had fangs _and_ claws. I like!"

Damon continued drinking his coffee and scanning the latest news feed, ignoring them. Of course, everyone there knew that the root of their squabbling did begin and end with a Salvatore, just not the one currently present. It did offer a certain bitter pleasure knowing the Petrova women now had an eternity to fight each other over his sweet baby bro. It was a situation that even had potential to provide some interesting entertainment for a decade or two. After that it would probably get old. Of course, he'd be long gone by then, so…not really his problem.

He finished off with the news and got to his feet, slipping his phone into his pocket. "Try to behave yourselves. I've got some things to take care of today."

"If you're going out, I'll ride along." Elena started to rise.

Katherine put a hand on her shoulder, easily holding her in her seat. "No way, babycakes, I'm shotgun on this trip. You should stay home, study up on your blood-drinking and compulsion skills. I have a feeling you'll need them sooner rather than later."

"Oh, no. No, no and…no. You ladies stay here where it's relatively safe. You can keep my brother company when he gets back from dealing with the bunny overpopulation problem in the woods," Damon gave an involuntary shudder at the thought. He never could get around the thought of all that fur getting in his mouth and sticking to his tongue. It gagged him a little just imagining it. "That should be fun for all of you."

* * *

"I asked you a question, human. Don't you got any manners?"

Matt Donovan may have been a good-natured jock but he was sure as hell no dummy. He knew plenty of vampires and he could recognize when one of them was a sadistic freak with no trouble at all, red eyes and fangs on display or not.

"Where's the girl you took? What did you do with her?"

"Girl? What girl? I didn't see no girl with you. I just saw some prime vamp merchandise. She's young but damn is she feisty. Get me a good price for that one, I betcha. She was too much for you anyhow, boy. Better off on your own."

"What are you going to do with us?" Matt tried to keep his voice calm but he was having a hard time. The thought of what might be happening to Caroline had been bad enough when he was sitting in here alone in the dark. Now that he had a glimpse of what had gotten a hold of them…

"There ain't no "us" no more. Your little friend is gone. Once the Doc gets her in his lab, it's a short trip to the end of the road for her. And you…well, I got dinner reservations later for me and you. "The vamp rubbed his hands together and gave a high-pitched laugh at his own bad joke.

Obviously this guy wasn't just a redneck vampire jerk-off, he was bat shit crazy on top of that. Which made him so much more dangerous. Speaking of crazy dangerous vampires, Matt was suddenly overcome by a desire that was so outrageous, he almost started laughing like a loon himself.

Because right now, more than anything on this earth, he wished Damon Salvatore were here. Sure, they had a strong mutual dislike for each other - with good reason - and the resident anti-hero was definitely in a worse than usual mood lately. At the same time, there was no way in hell Damon would put up with this asshole for more than two seconds before he ripped his heart out.

Such a comforting thought.

* * *

She found him in the basement, staring into the blood storage fridge. He wasn't feeding so she assumed he was taking inventory of their food supply to see if he needed to restock while he was out. That thought brought a little smile to her face.

Damon was totally OCD about certain things, a neat freak and any sort of disorganization drove him crazy. She knew having so many vampires in and out of his house, making messes and rifling through his fridge probably had him on edge. Yet, he was always generous with his stash, never complaining about the way they helped themselves while he was the one who had to keep them all "in the red". He claimed he did it because they were all incompetent and he wasn't willing to risk running out of his favorite O-Neg, but she knew it was really just him protecting them, keeping them safely away from risky situations like the now heavily monitored blood banks and hospitals.

Before she could let herself start thinking too deeply about that, she decided to get right to the point with him. No sense wasting time when it was obvious that he wasn't exactly in a happy place this morning. "You shouldn't get involved with Katherine, Damon. You know she's just going to try to use you for whatever dirty work she needs doing. If she's involved in something, it's bound to end badly, especially for you."

He replied without turning around "So, Katherine couldn't _possibly _want anything to do with me just because it's, well….me? I mean, obviously, why the hell would she actually be interested in _me_ when Stefan's anywhere within a thousand-mile radius?"

Her stomach dropped as she realized how her words must have sounded to him, after everything he'd been through with Katherine. Not the best way to start out if she was trying to get him to open up. "No…no, that's not what I meant. I just-"

He let the lid slam down and turned to face her. He leaned casually against the edge of the fridge, crossing his arms over his chest. "Stop, Elena, before you embarrass yourself. What Katherine and I do to each other is none of your business," a tiny smile turned up the edges of his mouth and his eyes positively sparkled with evil intent. "Unless you'd like it to be. You're welcome to join us any time."

Just as he'd planned, his words brought a flood of color to her cheeks. She wasn't sure if it was anger that caused it or jealousy or flat out lust at the thought of him…doing things. He was watching her, his head cocked slightly, eyes narrowed and then, with a soft whisper of air rushing past, he was in front of her, scant inches away. He leaned even closer, his cheek nearly brushing hers but not quite.

"Mmmm…" It was a low, sexy rumble from deep in his chest. She could almost feel it against her skin. She shivered involuntarily.

She startled when his voice hissed into her ear. "I'm not an idiot, Elena. I know Katherine doesn't give a shit about me. Whatever she's got going on is probably a death trap and since I'm the most reliable expendable commodity around, here she is. Don't worry about it. I can take care of myself."

She swallowed hard, knowing he could hear her heart racing. "You're _not_ expendable, Damon. You know that's not true."

His total silence was all the reply she was going to get. Her heart ached for him. She knew Katherine's betrayal still stung, even if he'd never own it. "Please talk to me, Damon. We can fix things between us if you'll just stop running away from me."

He finally leaned back, giving her some space. And a chance to catch her breath. "I think we've done all the talking we need to do, Elena. Run along now, I've got schemes of my own to plan and errands to run."

It infuriated her when he acted like she was a child, like there was nothing between them but his tolerance because she vaguely amused him. "No! I'm not letting you shut me out. Not anymore." She reached out, touched his arm, "Is it because of Stefan? Of what you think might happen to him? I know how hard you've tried to put him first, but- "

At the mention of his brother, he made an instant retreat, shaking her hand off and backing away. She practically heard the walls go up around him. "Don't even think of heading down brotherly love boulevard. That road is closed for repairs."

"That's part of the problem, Damon. Repairs _aren't _being made. You two barely even look at each other, you won't talk to me at all, you disappear for days while we're all worried sick about what might have happened to you. And nobody will even acknowledge the giant elephant sitting in the middle of the room. Well, I don't want it to be like this anymore…"

"I said we're not doing this, Elena." it was that low, dangerously calm tone that he used almost never.

"Yes we are because you're affecting all of us by refusing to talk about what's going on in this house and by making us all live this way." She could feel herself starting to come unglued, could feel the rush of emotion trying to take her over but she wasn't experienced enough yet to know how to stop it. He knew how hard this was for her, how _intense _it all was and yet he insisted on making things even worse. All because _he_ didn't want to deal with it. Because it was too much for _him_ to think about. "You're so selfish, Damon!"

He took another step back, so he could get a good look at her face. Yep, she was dead serious. Pun intended.

_Selfish?_

_When have I ever been selfish with you, Elena? I've turned myself inside out for you. When you wanted me to feel - even though you didn't have a fucking clue what that meant for someone like me - I did it. I did it because I'm an idiot and because I fall for it every time. Every fucking time I actually let myself believe that something I do might be enough to make a difference with you. _

_I did it because you wanted me to be the better man, even though I already _knew_ I wasn't, that I could never be what you wanted. And remember what happened? When I gave in, let myself care about something? It was a burden. It was an inconvenience for you. So I'm just fucking done with it. With all of it and all of you._

Okay, yeah. Face it. He wasn't saying a single one of those things to her.

There was absolutely no point in it because she wasn't responsible for the fact that he was a dumbass. She'd been clear as vodka about what category she had him in - the "Thanks, But No Thanks" category. He needed to stop blaming her for his own piss-poor choices. Besides, if he were to open his mouth and let even half of what he was thinking come out, it would make her great big eyes get all teary and sad and then he'd feel like the king of all assholes and he'd have to apologize for doing nothing worse than telling her the truth. Again.

It just was not worth it.

"I'm not some weepy, tortured high-school kid infatuated with the first girl he ever kissed, Elena. I'm not Stefan. I get it that you love him, though. Does it hurt? Hell yes it hurts but I'll move on. The damage isn't irreparable." He looked away for a minute and then back, "I've done it before and I'll do it now but I need for you to stop trying to suck me back into your little teenage vampire threesome drama."

"Damon, please-"

Seeing that she was in full-on _"Let's Talk it Out"_ mode and wouldn't give up until she got her own way, he dropped the joking façade, "Elena, you need to stop this. As much as you probably think what's going on is about Stefan or you, it's not. For once, as hard is it might be for you to grasp, it just isn't. I'm the only one looking out for _me _around here, which is fine. I'm used to that. I've been at it for a very long time and I know how it's done but I need to be able to actually get on with it. I thought that's what you wanted, too. I sure as hell heard it that way so this is me _trying _to honor your last words to a dying man. Let. Me. Go. "

Now that was a bold move! That whole shitty episode had never once been acknowledged outright by any of them. He could see from her expression that his words hit their mark dead center. Good. It wouldn't hurt for her to acknowledge, at least to herself, that she'd been pretty damn insensitive that night.

"You know how sorry I am about that." She whispered, her face gone so pale against those dark eyes that he had to mentally choke-hold himself to keep from comforting her. "It was all just so much at once and I couldn't face it, when I thought you all might die. I was so scared, Damon, and you…you just kept pushing the way you always do. You put all that pressure on me when everything was coming apart. It's what you always do. You just hammer away until something finally breaks."

Of course! Of course her incredibly cruel behavior was somehow going to be his fault, too. And why not? He was strong, he could take it. It's not like he had _feelings_. It's not like he'd been dying and maybe, just this once, it would have been okay to throw honesty out the window and show him a touch of mercy. He was pretty sure he would have been okay with that in the afterlife.

And he'd been thinking of comforting her!

Fuck!

The anger that he'd sworn he wouldn't succumb to again raced up and jumped on his back so hard and so fast that, as always, he was completely powerless to stop himself from yielding to it's greater strength. It wrapped itself around him and squeezed, strangling all reason and good sense until there was nothing but a red bloom of rage pounding behind his eyes. He didn't want to do this, didn't ever want to hurt her and yet he couldn't stop himself. He was never able to stop himself when it mattered most. Everything he'd tried to hide from her and to protect her from came pouring out in a furious river of accusation.

"Bullshit, Elena! Take a look at yourself. You claim to forgive me but you never stopped holding the past against me. When Stefan left, I spent months helping you keep your shit together and the first chance you got, you put on your lip gloss and happily let me sacrifice myself to Klaus so you could get five minutes alone with Stefan the Psycho Killer. Do you have any idea how that feels, Elena? To stand in front of someone you love and know they couldn't care less if the next time they see you, you're dead? I do. I've felt it more than once and let me tell you, it's not something I'd ever recommend to a friend."

He actually had to take a pause there because, damn it, that really was an incredibly painful memory, but he wasn't finished so he pushed through.

"And let's not forget, he's the same psycho killer who murdered Andie and instead of giving me a ten-minute break to catch my breath, you launch into a bitch rant about something I did to _protect_ you. Remember when you kissed me and then immediately had to remind me of what a complete fuck-up I am? What's the cherry on top of this sundae, you wonder. How about the time you got my own brother to snap my neck so you could be in on a plan that - surprise - not only failed but nearly got me killed _and_ ended up forcing me to turn Bonnie's mom in the process? An act that probably _will _get me killed sometime in the not-so-distant future. I mean, holy fucking shit, Elena, the list is virtually endless. That was just the highlights reel."

He was hurling words at her like rocks, knowing she felt every single one of them crashing against her and he was just angry enough and - let's face it - sadistic enough to be absolutely fine with that. Right now, in this moment, he honestly didn't care if they hurt her because they couldn't possibly be any more gut-wrenchingly agonizing for her to hear than they were for him to relive. Every horrible thing he was saying was absolutely true and he _still _wasn't quite finished with her.

"That all sounds so much worse when I say it out loud, doesn't it? But through it all, I keep coming back for more. You damn well know I can't walk away when you keep begging me to stay and you know what it's doing to me. I've never asked you for anything, but I'm asking you now. Elena, if we were ever friends at all…" his voice finally broke completely and he had to stop, the words caught up somewhere in his chest, fighting against him to get out.

And there she was, looking at him with those big, tear-filled doe eyes. Those heartbreaking eyes that saw through him to man he could never again be and it all just drained away. All of the anger and condemnation that had come roaring through him had burnt itself out in that one raging inferno. He felt so empty at the loss but cleansed, too. Purified by the expulsion of all the toxic waste he'd been hauling around inside for so long.

Maybe she had a point about some things. Maybe he did push too hard, expecting others to commit as fully as he did, to put everything out there each and every time no matter what. But she was wrong, too. She lied to herself in a way that baffled him because he just didn't have the capacity for it himself even if his honesty was often brutal and nearly always self-destructive. He'd never understand how she could hide so much from herself and rationalize it all away. It would catch up with her someday; he knew that for a fact.

He reached out and ran his fingers lightly down her cheek because, as sick as it was, he just had to. He stroked her soft skin, wiping her tears away. He tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him so that she could really see what it was that he was telling her, "I can't do this anymore. I won't."

They stood that way, locked in each other's eyes for what felt like hours before he finally gave up, let his hand slide away.

She couldn't breathe, let alone respond to him. Her chest felt like it was about to explode and she had no idea how to deal with what had just happened. Damon never spoke this way - to her or anyone. He never opened those doors that he kept locked against the world. It was too much. The rawness of his words and the knowledge of how much pain he'd been in without ever letting anyone see it nearly broke her. What could she possibly do to sew up these wounds? Nothing would fix this; no words that she could say would ever be able to make up for how she'd treated him. Letting him go really would be the only thing that she could give but when she thought of him leaving her, walking out as suddenly and permanently as it had seemed he'd walked in, everything inside her screamed, _"No!" _

She reached for him, grabbing his shirt and forcing him back to her. "You can't leave me," sliding her arms around him, she pulled him as close as possible. "You promised you would never leave me."

* * *

"Okay, Dinner, I ain't planning on carrying you around so you just listen up," the redneck vamp grabbed Matt's face and forced him to look him in the eyes, "After I untie you, you ain't gonna try to run or escape or help your little friend out. You're gonna do just what you're told to do and not another damn thing. You got it?"

Would the vampire know if he lied? Could he smell the vervain leaking out of his pores along with the flood of terrified sweat? Matt sure as hell hoped not but he knew the chances were slim.

"I won't try to escape or help my friend. I'll do just what I'm told." He hoped he sounded enough like a zombie to pass himself off. Acting wasn't his thing so it wasn't very likely but it was his only chance.

"Alright. Yeah, that's more like it." Sounding a bit surprised at his success at compelling, Bubba the Vamp grinned his dirty grin and Matt pretended not to be completely revolted. The vampire pulled out a curved hunting knife and sliced through the rope that was holding him captive in a kind of modified hog-tie and he couldn't help sighing in relief as he was finally able to unbend his arms and stretch out his legs.

"Good. Now, you're gonna help me load up these here supplies into the van along side your girlfriend. We need to get movin' because the Doc needs fresh vamps for his research quick-like. I don't know what kinda tests he's doing up there but he run through them others in just a couple of days. That's okay by me. He pays real good." A sudden spark of - if not intelligence, then a certain cunning - lit Bubba's dull eyes. "Say, Dinner, I don't suppose you got anymore friends of the _undead_ nature 'round here do you? Rumor says this town's got some old-timers but your girl's just a newbie. Doc says he'll pay extra for old ones. Says they can take a lot more and they last longer. More durable, I guess."

Matt tried to keep his voice as empty as his eyes, zombie to the end, "Caroline is the only vampire I know."

The vampire kept his eyes locked on the football player for several seconds. Clearly not wanting to believe him and yet too stupid or arrogant to truly believe that somebody could actually be shaking off the weight of his compulsion. Finally, after an uncomfortably long time, he relented.

"Well, c'mon then. I ain't got all night and I'm starting to get hungry. I can't hardly eat you till you get done loading my van, now can I? So get on it."

Matt began doing as he was told but he did it as slowly and carefully as he could get away with, waiting for an opportunity. If he could just get to his phone, he knew both Stefan and Damon would come for Caroline and that's all that mattered. He had to get help for Caroline because, whoever "Doc" was, the guy sounded like one sick freak.

* * *

**Thanks so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed. Please take a minute to leave me feedback/review. As a first-time FF writer, I can use all the help I can get. :D**


	8. Love Hurts

**A/N: **Thanks so,so much for all the great feedback you've given this little story lately. It's such a help and I really appreciate all of you who are reading and enjoying Damon's journey with me.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing Vampire Diaries or TVD related

* * *

All he wanted was to tear himself loose from her, just shake this place off and be free once and for all.

Christ, how he hated her.

How he loved her.

She was as cruel and selfish as Katherine had ever been and she didn't even know it. How could she offer him what he'd wanted so badly, even when she knew that taking it would just destroy him in the end?

He resisted, holding himself back and she read the distrust in those impossibly beautiful eyes, so close to hers that she could see the faint, midnight bands circling silver-blue irises. She wasn't giving him the chance to walk away from her, though. Using her new strength, she held on, pulling herself closer and willing him to believe what she would tell him.

"Damon," his name whispered like a prayer and her eyes boring into his soul. "Do you honestly think I don't know how selfish I've been? It's strange how clearly I can see it now… how I used our friendship to keep myself going and then acted like it didn't mean anything to me. How I expected the impossible and punished you if you couldn't deliver it. I know it doesn't change anything now but you need to hear it, just once." She reached up, stroked his cheek softly, "I love you, Damon, and I need you here with me even though I don't deserve you."

He flinched as his own words from a lifetime ago turned back around to bite him. Words he would have given anything to have heard from her, once upon a time. She was fucking ruthless. He needed to just walk away right now. Call the game, throw in the towel while there was still even a slight possibility that he could make a recovery from all of this.

Of course, in the end, he couldn't do it, regardless of how pathetic and small her offering was in light of all the things that had come before it. He was nothing but weakness when it came to this girl. No matter how hard he fought, he was chained to her.

She watched his resolve disintegrate. She could see the instant it happened, the play of emotion across his fallen-angel's face, the way his jaw hardened even as his eyes softened. She watched his surrender as he came to her with a need she hadn't fully expected, claiming her mouth with a fierceness that thrilled her as much as it frightened her. He'd always terrified her with his reckless energy, his passion, with the things he forced her to feel. This time, though, she wouldn't run from it. Instead, she would pour herself into him so he would know that she was finally ready to accept all of it.

All of him.

He broke away first, only to reclaim her mouth again more deeply, tongues stroking, teeth nipping, hands moving restlessly over each other. She had a sensation of motion and found herself seated on the low refrigerator with Damon pressed firmly between her thighs, all hardness and heat and hunger. No one kissed like Damon; his entire body engaged in the act, ferocious and gentle at once, forcing a response not just at the surface but dragging everything up all the way from the molten core deep within her.

She couldn't get enough of him, the play of sleek muscle moving against her, the softness of his hair tangled up in her fingers, the smell of his skin, the taste of him. She moaned desperately into his mouth, wanting…needing more. Needing all of him. It had been so long since she'd touched him, felt him under her hands and now that she had him back again, she knew she could never tell him what he wanted to hear.

_She couldn't let him go. _

She gave her hands free reign on his body, letting them rove over his back and chest, then sliding under his shirt, seeking out the heat of his bare skin. How was he always so warm, as if an inner fire burned constantly in defiance of their cold vampire nature? She pulled his shirt open, her lips and tongue moving over his throat, down his chest while her fingers struggled to get his belt undone.

He pulled back slightly, forcing a break, "Elena, listen, whatever this is-"

"We'll figure it out later. I only want to think about this right now. About being with you." She leaned in to him, desperate to get back to the place they'd just been seconds before. "Please."

And just like that, he went cold. As usual, she could only think about **right now. **Only this time he was the chosen one instead of his brother. Lucky him. He should have kept his mouth shut. Never, never talk at times like this because sure enough the whole operation will go south once dialogue happens.

He captured her wrists in his hands to stop the terrible, wonderful things her fingers were still doing to him, knowing he'd regret it but not half as much as he would if he didn't.

"Elena, stop."

She looked at him, her eyes wide and hazy with whatever it was she was thinking or feeling or imagining that she felt.

"What's wrong?" That beautiful, husky voice went right through him every time.

"This isn't going to happen."

How the hell many times was he going to have this exact same conversation with a woman this week? Every time he turned around he was rejecting sex. What the fuck was happening to him? He blamed global warming. It was screwing up all kinds of shit.

Her face was blank, not really registering what he was saying, "I…I thought you'd be happy. Damon? I just told you that I love you."

"But you don't, Elena. You don't even really _know_ me. This is all part of what you're going through right now with your emotions out of control and trying to make sense of things that just don't work the same way anymore. You'll get over it."

"That's not what this is! I _do_ know you, Damon, even though all you've ever done is try to hide from me. There's so much goodness in you, so much love and kindness. You can be that person again. We can do it together."

He released her wrists, gave himself a little distance. "I already _am_ that person, Elena, you just never wanted to admit it. I feel love just fine, even though it just about kills me every goddamned time. Maybe there's kindness, too, if it's a good day and there's a puppy involved. But I'm a lot of other things, too, and just because you don't want to see them doesn't mean they're not there. I won't play at being something I'm not. You don't need that guy anymore."

"Damon…" she reached for him but he grabbed her wrist before she could make contact and shoved her hand away.

"I am _not_ my brother. I don't try to act human because I'm not. You don't even know what that means yet or how hard it is to accept the fact that a part of yourself is gone forever. You can't imagine how much it hurts when you finally have to let it go and try to survive as this new thing you've become. You will, though, and then maybe you'll understand the real difference between Stefan and me."

"Please, you don't have to do this. I know what it's like for you now and I finally understand you after all this time. I'm not saying this is the way I wanted things to happen between us or that I planned to do it this way, but I do love you and I don't want to lose that."

Ahh, so this was about Katherine. She was worried she was going to lose her back-up plan and she was all in a panic. Well, fuck that.

"Elena, do you even know anything about my life that doesn't concern you or Stefan or Mystic Falls?" he waited for her to chime in with something. Anything. Nothing. "Do you know that I love to travel, to meet people and have real conversation that doesn't revolve around killing Klaus. I own a bar in London where I like to hang out, listen to great music, dance. I've met some amazing people there, over the years. Or what about the piano upstairs? Ever wonder about that? It was my mother's. She started teaching me to play when I was really young and I'm actually pretty good. You know I love to read but did you know that nearly every book in the Salvatore library is mine? Tons of rare and first editions, collected from all over the world."

He reached out and took a lock of her long, silky hair, twirling it around his finger. He looked into her eyes, which had grown wary now, unsure of where this ramble of his was headed. "All perfectly normal things, aren't they? But not the only things, Elena. I also like to hunt. I love feeding straight from the source. The way the adrenalin of their terror sharpens the taste of their blood. Delicious. And then there's the kill - dark, exciting, and so sweet. Sure, it's fucked-up, but it's who I am." He leaned in close, cocking his head and studying her face with an intensity that had her pulling back, almost fearful of him for the first time in too long to remember. "Do you still think you know me?"

She shook her head, denial to the bitter end. "Why are you acting like this? I don't understand."

There we go; eyes filling up fast and she's looking like a five year old lost at the mall. Scared, confused and desperately needing somebody to come to her rescue.

_Sorry, baby. Not this time._

He took several steps back from her, rolled his shoulders. Ready for the final blow. "I know you don't understand and that's the problem. I'm not acting like anything. This is _me, e_motions on but still a fully functioning vampire. If you want poetry and romantic picnics in the park, go find my brother. He loves that shit, or at least he pretends to. But me? I told you before; I want it to be real between us. If it's not, then I'm not interested."

And finally those eyes - full of confusion and a twinge of revulsion that she couldn't quite hide - began to overflow into tiny rivers of pain trickling down her beautiful face. It wouldn't be long before her stubborn pride and a firm belief in her own superiority would turn that pain into dislike and then hatred.

_Good. That's what it was going to take._

* * *

The stack of boxes was getting low, only three or four left and the job would be done. After that, Matt was pretty sure he'd be done, too, and not in a good way. He really, really needed to be able to get his fingers on his phone again. In between loading the boxes, he'd managed to get most of the message typed but hadn't been able to send yet. He wasn't nearly as fast at texting as the girls were, especially when he was trying to do it without actually taking his phone out of his pocket and had a vampire's eyes glued to him almost the whole time.

So far he he'd managed:

**_w/bad vamp n hansons barn off hwy s. of MF. caroline w/me. R going 2 take her smwhre soon_**

About four more words and send. He glanced over his shoulder to see where "Bubba" had gotten to. At the same time, he heard the sound of a vehicle approaching on the rough gravel driveway leading to the front of the barn. He froze.

_Damn it! What now?_

The car pulled right up to the wide barn doors and into the gloomy interior. Car doors opened then slammed and he heard voices. Multiple voices, including "Bubba's" and there was laughing. So, everybody knew each other and they all seemed good with their vampness.

_Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!_

The whole group stayed inside the front of the barn but Matt could hear them just fine

"We think we found something pretty crazy in town last night. We checked out the place that guy in Raleigh told us about and I think he might have been right. I think we found a really, really old one."

"What are you talking about? How do you know?" "Bubba" sounded pretty excited about the news.

"We don't know for sure, but we seen her. She's in a room in this big mansion, just like that guy said. And she's got a knife stuck right in her heart. She looks dead and all, but, I don't know. Something about the way she's in this nice room, all tucked up in her fancy box like she's on display. Real weird."

Somebody had daggered Rebekah? Well, that was news to Matt. Good news.

"Well, why the hell didn't you grab her then?"

"We didn't have a chance. There were some…things…there. I don't know what they were, vampires but they smelled funny and it seemed like they were keeping watch over the place. Thought we oughta come back and get you so we'd have some back-up. I mean, the money's good and all, but I ain't planning on getting killed for this shit."

Thinking any more about it would just waste more time so Matt yanked out his phone and thumbed in the rest of the message at light speed:

**_and kill me. More vamps now all r daywlkrs. Hurry._**

He managed to get it sent to the person he knew would be his best option for effective action in an emergency.

* * *

He was at his desk but for once not drinking or reviewing his stock reports or scanning a news stream. He was just sitting, staring into the fire, a million miles away from Mystic Falls. She wandered over and stood beside his chair, wondering if he'd take any notice of her. He didn't.

"Thought you were leaving."

He glanced up, then away, "I am. Just needed to check a couple of things first. Can you and Stefan round up the rest of his little band of merry misfits? Fill them in on what you know? I don't think I can stomach them this morning, to be honest."

"No problem. I don't mind taking over the daycare, as long as it's just for a minute. The babies amuse me in small doses. And that football player? Yummy! You know I've always been a sucker for a blue-eyed boy." She smiled slyly, twirling a curl around one finger.

He completely ignored everything that came out of her mouth after the part where she agreed to handle things. "I want to get this situation locked down. I think I've got most of the Council under control but there are a handful of renegades who were stupid enough to try working some angle with that hunter. Something's off about that whole situation. What the hell is up with that guy?"

Katherine smiled fondly. It wasn't really a question for her. His voice was detached, his eyes focused on some far-off point as he considered this new puzzle. Damon could be impulsive and rash sometimes, but he was diabolically smart and very, very clever. His plans were quite effective when he actually had a chance to implement them. Not that he had the opportunity very often around this place, with those idiotic townie kids forever trying to run the show. It's a wonder they weren't all dead at this point, although they were sure getting close.

He turned that crystalline gaze on her now and it sharpened considerably, "What's any of this got to do with you, Katherine? Why are you even here, let alone pretending to be all helpful and… compassionate?"

She laughed loudly, tossing her hair back, "Compassionate? Is that what I was doing with you last night? And twice this morning? Being compassionate?"

"Katherine." There was a hint of warning in his tone.

"Fine. Look, I'm just here to help you guys out. This crappy little town seems to have more than it's share of troubles and, as long as you and Stefan are going to keep clinging to your pathetic existence here, I figure you can use all the help you can get. Some info came my way and I figured I'd pass it along."

He cocked an eyebrow, "Battery in your phone died, huh?"

She waved her hand airily, "Stefan won't take my calls. I heard what happened with my prissy little dopplegirl and I was worried about him. I just wanted to see for myself that he was okay."

"Of course…"

She plopped down onto the arm of his chair, leaning against his shoulder. She began running her fingers through the soft hair just behind his ear and at the nape of his neck, unable to resist the allure of that dark silkiness.

"Oh, Damon, don't be jealous. You know you're my favorite brother to hang out with. So much more fun at a party and a great ride, too."

"If I had a dollar for every time I've heard that." He shot her a little smirk but she could tell his heart wasn't really in it.

She leaned down and let her lips brush against the rim of his ear, enjoying the little shiver that it caused when she whispered, "You know, that girl is upstairs crying her little dead heart out right now."

"Hmm…"

She straightened back up, "You're too real for her, Damon and she can't handle that."

"Maybe you're right. I don't have a stellar record in this department, so…"

"She's still hanging on to all the things she thought were important when she was human. Until she adjusts, it won't matter how many times you take the hit for her, if you can't follow up with a poetic, heart-felt monologue and some fireside cuddling. Trust me, I know." She did manage to get a little chuckle from him at that.

"Yeah, I've heard that works great on a certain kind of woman. Well, I guess she has the perfect guy then. Stefan's got a line of prosaic bullshit a mile long."

She laughed, "Yes. Yes he does."

They passed several moments in silence, each lost in their own thoughts before his voice jerked her sharply back to the present.

"I'm not what she wants, Katherine. I can't change who I am." His voice was so lost it instantly swept away any thought she might have had of taunting him further.

_Sweet Damon, when will you stop torturing yourself over this terrible, deadly girl? When will you ever learn? _

"And you shouldn't, baby. There's nothing wrong with you. There never was."

She felt him stiffen slightly as if to pull away but she just continued her gentle stroking until he settled back.

"You were the first human who ever accepted me just as I was. All my faults and all my evil ways - you saw them and you just didn't give a damn." She laughed softly, "You saw all of it and you still wanted me for exactly what I was. I knew I could trust you, that you would be there for me if I needed you. You were a reckless young fool but I always knew your love was true. "

"Yeah, that worked out fan-fucking-tastic, didn't it?" There was a trace of bitterness in his tone that he couldn't quite mask.

"Your brother saw me, too. He saw me how I wished I could be. The way I might have been if it hadn't been for Klaus. He thought I was an angel, pristine and perfect and completely worthy of his love. I needed that so badly. I'd been a monster for such a long time and being with him made me feel...clean and untainted."

"Yeah, he was a good boy, our Stefan. When we were kids, he was so damned idealistic and so…pure. He was almost shiny with it. I guess it was impossible not to love him…" His words trailed away, but there was no bitterness now, just a deep sadness. It stabbed at her in a way that was completely unexpected.

_Oh, Kat, you're just going to break your heart over this one, aren't you?_

She knew it was a mistake but she said it anyway, "I'm sorry for what I did."

He gave her a scornful look, "Seriously, Katherine? After almost a century and a half, you're going to start throwing apologies around?" he gave a humorless little laugh, "He got through it. Hell, he even got to bring his big brother along for the ride. Sure, we're the most dysfunctional family on earth, but fuck it. We're still here, right?"

Her fingers tightened in his hair and she forced him to meet her eyes, "No, Damon, I meant I'm sorry for what I did to _you_, when I came back here the first time. The things I said and the way I acted toward you were brutal. You didn't deserve it. It's just that sometimes-"

He cut through her words like a knife, "Enough, Katherine, I've already heard this story. I got it. And then I got over it."

He gave his head a sharp twist, breaking loose from her grip. He rose from the chair and made his way across the room. "Just make sure you tell Team Supernatural everything you know. The last thing I need is another one of them ending up dead. Or worse." He never looked back at her.

She stayed where she was, gazing into the fire as she listened to his footsteps echo through the hall and eventually the throaty rumble of his car heading away from the house and down the road. She listened long after she knew he was gone.

_It's just that sometimes you have to be cruel to the ones you love. Sometimes the only way to save them is to drive them so far away, they'll never find their way back again. _

* * *

_What the fuck_?

_Goddamn this mother-fucking town all over again!_

He felt like flinging the phone across the car and through the window (which happened to be closed at the moment). He felt like pounding his fist against the steering wheel until it shattered. He felt like…

Deep breaths and a clenched jaw enabled him to get away with doing nothing more extreme than squeezing the phone until the plastic casing creaked in distress. It would have to be enough.

So the quarterback had his ass in a sling and he expected for Damon to "Hurry". As in, "Hey, man, hurry up and get over here ASAP so you can risk your life to save my shit. While you're at it, you need to save Blondie again, too. But remember, after you do it we're going right back to hating your guts and trying our best to pretend you're nothing but a figment of our imaginations."

_Yeah, kid, I'll get right on that._

_Fuck._

Letting out a deep sigh and shaking his head at his own stupidity, Damon slowed and made a U-turn, heading back toward the highway and, most likely, more drama than he was mentally prepared to deal with right now. But, then again, why the hell not? What was one more daring rescue, anyway and it would help take his mind off the insanity that had been going on around him for the last eighteen hours or so.

Besides, this was all part of a bigger plot and dealing with one meant he was dealing with the other.

When he'd read the text, he immediately connected a whole string of dots in his head. During the conversation in the bar the night before between the hunter and the other man, there had been mention of something going down at the Hanson place. Now, less than twenty-four hours later, a group of vampires had snatched Blondie and Little Boy Blue Eyes and taken them to that very place. So, what was a vampire hunter doing teaming up _with_ vampires? He'd known there was something off about that guy all along! Was this whole thing a trap to lure them out? And how the hell were they all daywalkers? Some sketchy shit was going down around here.

Hmmm, he'd have to turn that over to his subconscious and let it spin around for a bit.

In the meantime, he tried to reach Stefan. No answer so he left a voice mail. Same with Elena. Of course they wouldn't be available when _he_ needed _them_. He was torn. He seriously had no desire to walk into a trap all on his lonesome. Unfortunately, if Blondie and the boy were actually in trouble, there probably wasn't a lot of flexibility in the schedule and the text had already been nearly an hour old when he'd read it.

_Damn, he missed Ric._

* * *

**_Thanks for reading and I hope you'll take a minute to review! Can you guess what's happening next chapter? Something good!_**


End file.

Vampire Diaries, Angst, Romance