Eros and Philia - CosmicAdventurer (2024)

Chapter 1: Shatter

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"Love is the ultimate outlaw. It just won't adhere to any rules. The most any of us can do is to sign on as its accomplice. Instead of vowing to honor and obey, maybe we should swear to aid and abet. … My love for you has no strings attached. I love you for free."

– Tom Robbins

On a late Spring night in May, Elena woke up gasping in a hospital. The stark lights; the clinical coldness; the deeply impersonal feeling embedded in its very walls, in the paint, the icy metal slabs, the mobile beds, the very essence of the place where lives change in an instant – and any semblance of control is so minute and so illusionary and so treasured for the spark of hope it can provide for the one capable of saving a life.

Her father had been a doctor, and the idea of being able to save lives – to heal the sick, the wounded, the hopeless – filled Elena with ardent romance. What better feeling in the world could there be than returning health and safety and hope to one who thought that all was lost?

As she shivered in her flimsy hospital bed, under her thin blanket, lying on threadbare sheets, she wondered who the lucky doctor would be that would return health and hope to her parents. After all, they had to live. Surely, if she survived, so did they.

Because they had to – because she and her rebelliousness and her disobedience and insistence on sneaking out on Family Night were the only reason that they were out on that bridge in the first place.

Because it was all her fault.

She'd tried to warm herself – her endeavor futile as her shaky breaths from her damaged lungs could scarcely create the requisite conduit of warm air that her icy fingers desperately craved. Regardless, Elena wouldn't lose hope.

The last memory she had was of the water – her father desperately gesturing tosomeoneoutside of their overwhelmed and drowned automobile. Her lungs rapidly filling with liquid; the pain of it all shocking.

Any minute now. Any second, and someone wearing a white robe would enter the room and tell her that everything was fine – that the miracle of modern medicine struck again, and they would recount this whole sordid tale as an adventure over dinner, playfully lamenting that the car did not survive their quest home.

And then someone did enter, with a mournful, pitying expression on her face. Her anxiety was palpable – the young physician was clearly not one adept or comfortable with delivering anything other than happy news. Elena watched her take a few deep breaths, and struggle to speak. She changed her position several times, pacing in the small hospital room.

The words seemed to lose all meaning as Elena struggled to listen.

Dead.

No, this had to be some kind of mistake. Surely, this Doctor Melson meant to enter another room, find another girl. Her parents had to survive – they had to. Her father saved people – surely he would be saved, too, right?

They couldn't be dead, because she's the reason they were out there in the first place. Because she had to go to a party. Because she had to be a silly, selfish girl who couldn't miss Beltane.

Please,please. They had to be alive. Please.

This was a nightmare. That's it. She was just having a very bad dream, and any second now, she would wake up, warm in her bed.

Elena pinched herself brutally, creating great bruises on her skin, but her surroundings refused to change.

Drowned. Two dead. One survivor.

She scarcely felt the time pass, as her mind dissociated, her knees pressed to her chest.

They were dead, and she had killed them. She went to the party, she called them, they were dead.

It was all her fault.

Suddenly, within seconds or minutes or hours or eons, that same sympathetic head peered into her room. How she couldn't stand that nervous gait. Expecting her world to crumble even more, Elena gathered what little courage she had left and looked up at the unwelcome intruder.

"What?" she asked, surprised at the hoarseness of her own voice. It sounded like it hadn't been used in thousands of years.

"I'm sorry, honey," Dr. Melson visibly fretted. "But your friend, Anna, is here to see you. I'll send her right in?"

Chapter 2: Who's the New Girl?

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February 2009

Elena had not been a morning person, and she was decidedly not having a good day – especially on a day when the coffee maker broke, and she was left profoundly decaffeinated. On top of everything, Mr. Tanner was in rare form today, taking it upon himself to teach them about the Spanish Inquisition by acting as its head and not-so-subtly trying to sniff out who actually did last night's reading, and who merely found some handy bullet points of summation online.

As usual, it appeared that poor, awkward Austin was his primary target. Heaven forbid he actually unleashed on one of his precious football team, no. Instead, he always sought out the most vulnerable.

Elena scoffed, lamenting that her knowledge of the field was insufficient to just shut him up. Maybe she'd forgo her plans for the evening and study the material with more than due diligence just to put this jackass in his place.

"And in what year did –" Mr. Tanner began pompously, when a knock distracted him from his latest attempt at class-wide inquisition. "Yes?" he asked, when the Vice Principal of Mystic Falls High School walked into the room with a teenage girl.

"Good morning, everyone," announced Mrs. Halliwell. "We have a new student who just moved to Mystic Falls, and she'll be joining us for the remainder of her high school experience!" the slight lady announced cheerfully, the years that weathered the timbre of her voice doing nothing to dull its enthusiasm. "This is Anna Zhu. Say hello to Anna, everyone."

Monotonous greetings of "hi, Anna" were heard scattered throughout the room, with varying ranges of gusto, most firmly planted in the 'indifferent' section of the spectrum.

But what else could be expected this early in the morning?

Elena eyed the girl through the headache born of caffeine withdrawal that started pulsing in her brain and noted the shy smile. When their eyes met, the smile only widened, and she suddenly had the strongest feeling that she'd make a new friend.

Perhaps this day wouldn't be so bad, after all.

By lunchtime, the headache had grown to gargantuan proportions, and it was only thanks to the merciful gods of conveniently-located and aptly-named convenience stores that Elena was finally able to rid herself of hers, thanks to a quick sneak away from the school to purchase a cup of coffee. Bonnie and Caroline joined in on the adventure, as well – and their quest for what they dubbed 'actually edible' lunch had been complete when they stealthily re-entered the school, bearing enticing contraband.

They made their victorious walk to their table, where the rest of the cheerleading squad and the football team was already deeply engrossed in conversation about the forthcoming game.

Anna sat alone, not looking quite forlorn, but decidedly out of place. She tried not to be obvious about looking in their direction, but her occasional glances were nevertheless noticed.

"Who's the new girl?" Caroline asked excitedly while opening her bag of potato chips. She'd spent the weekend with her father, who'd driven her home just this morning, barely making it in time for second period, let alone History class. Caroline hated being late – for anything – so she was already a ball of anxiety, though this kind of juicy gossip was all but guaranteed to knock her out of her funk. It wasn't every day that sleepy Mystic Falls High School got a transfer student.

"Her name's Anna," Bonnie replied, studying her curiously. "I wonder where she's from."

"She looks so alone," Elena lamented. Her heart went out to the girl sitting by herself. Having been a shy child, she vividly recalled the piercing anxiety that came with making friends, and the sharp relief when boisterous Caroline approached her, deeming her worthy of her time and friendship. With Caroline, came Bonnie, and suddenly she felt like she belonged.

It wasn't until high school that she grew into her ability to socialize, and acquired her natural charm and playfulness that was until then reserved only for the closest in her circle. Biting her lip nervously, she stood before she could talk herself out of it, and slowly made her way to Anna's table, taking a seat. At worst, she'd get rejected. But at best, perhaps she'd not only make a new friend, but spare someone the agony of loneliness.

"Hi," Elena smiled, desperately trying to hide her nerves as she sat next to Anna. "I'm Elena."

"I'm Anna," the girl replied, sounding not shy in the least. She almost looked to be scrutinizing her, a steady smile rising on her face.

"Would you like to come sit with us?" Elena asked, then thought better, not wanting to overwhelm her. "Or if meeting a lot of people at once is hard, maybe I could sit with you?"

"No, I like making new friends," Anna announced with a shrug, and stood before Elena could get a word out, confidently making her way to the table where Bonnie continued watching her with a curious eye.

Maybe Anna wasn't all that shy, after all.

Anna preened at her own cleverness, though she had to admit that a good chunk of this was good fortune. She'd gone over various scenarios, play-by-plays, schemes to befriend the Gilberts and thus get her hands on their coveted journals, finally being able to free her beloved mother from the agony of desiccation.

But this was considerably easier than she could have ever anticipated – she certainly hadn't expected to be approached and invited into the social circle so easily, and within hours of their introduction.

She had originally planned to target Jeremy for her plot, but at the last second, changed her mind, and compelled her way into Elena's year, instead.

There was always the chance that this was a trick. Cheerleaders were notorious mean girls, and perhaps Elena's invitation was in jest, meant to make a mockery of the new girl in front of the entire popular crowd. No matter – Anna was a vampire, after all. She'd compel her way anywhere needed – and what she needed was a way into the tomb.

"So where are you from? Why haven't we seen you around?" asked a very stereotypical-looking Boy Next Door type after the introductions were made, wrapping an arm around Elena's shoulders. Anna raised an eyebrow as she watched Elena stiffen instantly, the smile freezing on her face. Interesting.

"I was home-schooled in Pennsylvania previously, but I moved back with an older cousin who's been my guardian for the last two years," Anna answered, affecting a shy and almost innocent look that she knew endeared her to strangers instantly.

"Older cousin acting as guardian?" asked a perky blonde. "Sounds like there's a story there! Where are your parents? Anything scandalous?" she continued without taking a breath, her sparkling blue eyes widening with excitement.

"Care!" interrupted the girl Anna knew to be a Bennett witch, and thus a vital part of her plan. She also clearly had more social graces than her overly excitable friend.

"They're dead," Anna intoned shakily. She didn't have to fake the emotion behind the delivery. Although she'd never met her father, who passed away when her mother was pregnant, she missed her mother with ever fiber of her soul.

Elena gasped, grabbing her hand. "I'm so sorry," she said sincerely, prompting Anna to turn away. Although a part of her was grateful that she was immediately building this much useful rapport with her target, she hadn't anticipated it coming equipped with a genuine emotional response. She had a choice to make – lean into the gravitas to really facilitate the bonding or return to friendlier, smoother, less personable pastures, where she was considerably more comfortable, especially with strangers.

"It's okay," Anna smiled, hoping it looked genuine enough, though inside she was reeling. She should have expected this – of course it would come up – but it had been so long since she'd socialized with anyone who looked to be her age.

With humans.

"I'm sorry, too," Caroline said awkwardly. "I have this horrible tendency to run my mouth and put my foot in it almost immediately."

"It's really okay," Anna insisted. "Death makes people uncomfortable, so let's not dwell on it today," she smiled, acutely aware of the irony of the statement. None of these people had even an inkling of what was coming their way.

But soon they would. With the comet due to return in mere months, she knew others would be lured by its tantalizing allure – and not all of them were nearly as subtle in their approach to satisfying vampiric appetites.

Chapter 3: On Wednesdays, We Wear Existential Dread

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May 24, 2009

Anna tentatively stepped into the hospital room after having compelled her way past the hospital staff who initially insisted that Elena speak to family first, her heart constraining at seeing her friend so lost and broken. If only she'd been there…

She took a seat at the foot of the bed, everything in her body language indicating that she was at a loss for how to proceed, just watching Elena as though she were a snared animal – cautious in her approach. They sat together in silence for at least ten minutes, when Elena finally lifted her head, her faraway glance an indicator that she was only vaguely aware of Anna's presence. Evidently unsure of what to say, Anna just took her hand, and squeezed it; and Elena allowed the interaction.

They sat in this silence for the next quarter hour, both caught at the edge of speech, emotion, expression. Neither having anywhere near the faculties to properly articulate what they felt, but at opposite ends of the spectrum.

Anna was desperate to comfort her friend – to soothe; while Elena sought to withdraw deeper into herself, where the world couldn't hurt her, and everything was still safe and okay – where her parents were waiting for her at home, safe and alive, and her worst transgression was a slight bout of teenage rebellion manifesting in a rude word, a skipped class, a defiantly late night out.

And none of them came with serious consequences, aside from a slight scolding or admonishment.

None of them were punishable by death of her loved ones.

"I heard what happened," Anna finally said, drawing Elena's attention. "I'm sorry I wasn't there," she breathed.

"There's nothingyoucould have done," Elena hoarsely replied. The 'but I could have' was left unsaid—she could have not gone to the party. She could have not called them, and just let Matt take her home, saving the consequences of their fight for another evening. Her mind raced through all the possibilities – every which way she could have prevented this – coming up with all manner of fanciful scenarios in which the night didn't end with her lying in a hospital room, orphaned by that she genuinely believed to be her selfish, impulsive stupidity.

Anna just took both of Elena's hands in hers, doing her best to hide the guilt she was positive was plainly written on her face.

There was plenty she could have done – she could have stayed with Elena all night, instead of chasing after Damon Salvatore the moment she saw him to make a deal. She'd caught Damon waxing romantic to Elena on a forest road a short walk from the party, her inner alarm at the sight of him blaring, and interrupted them just as he was about to compel her to forget. He seemingly disappeared from sight, and she elected to chase after him. Perhaps he was back for the comet, too, she correctly surmised.

And in chasing after Damon, desperate to gather intel and make a deal to save her mother, she had been too far way to hear the crash. There would have been other opportunities to speak with him – she was now certain. The comet was months away.

She would have been able to save them all, then, and spared her best friend the tragedy of losing her family – of being orphaned at such a young age.

A tragedy Anna only pretended to have while hiding her vampirism from her friends in hopes of opening the tomb that held her desiccating mother.

She'd nearly told Elena so many times, desperate to share this part of herself. Although their friendship admittedly began as a scheme – a clever ploy to not only outwit a Gilbert descendant and Katherine Pierce lookalike, which held its own unique brand of catharsis – it quickly became genuine when Anna was faced time and time again with the undeniable knowledge that Elena's empathy was in fact real; that she really did care for her; that their friendship was indeed the sisterly bond for which she'd yearned throughout all the centuries of her life.

"There's nothing you could have done, either," Anna instead said, seeing the self-admonishment clearly written in Elena's expressive, dark eyes.

"Yes, I could have!" Elena shot back, seeming more alive than she had in hours – her voice filled with venom, contempt, sheer hatred – all for herself. "I could have stayed home! I could have actually listened to them! Maybe then they'd still be alive – maybe then Jeremy – oh God, Jeremy!" Elena brought her covered her mouth in horror, only now realizing that she'd forced this fate on her brother, as well.

"Stop it," Anna said calmly, herself familiar with the refrain of 'if only I'd been faster, stronger, smarter' – watching with helplessness and abject guilt as her own mother was carted away over a century prior. "You couldn't have known. None of this is your fault." It took her ages to overcome her own feeling of survivor's guilt, and she was absolutely not about to resign Elena to the same fate – especially since she was a human and had nowhere near the time to heal that deep, aching, chasm of a wound, as far as Anna was concerned. It would take entirely too long of her life – become too deep-seated a trauma – if effort wasn't taken to discourage it immediately.

"Yes, it is," Elena sobbed, but allowed Anna to gather her into an embrace. "It's all my fault."

"No," Anna soothed, her voice just barely above a gentle whisper. "It isn't. And I don't care how long it takes to convince you. I will."

As she held her crying friend, Anna's mind wandered to more practical concerns. The police report stated that Elena was found unconscious ashore, with no memory of her escape. If she didn't save her – because she'd been too busy plotting with a reluctant Damon, who obviously also didn't save her – then who did? The entire situation practically reeked of compulsion, which meant that there's another vampire in town.

And she aimed to find out exactly who it was.

Mid-February 2009

After a curious lunch period of formally meeting Katherine's doppelgänger and her shallow friends – though Anna had to admit the description wasn't entirely accurate, but she wasn't quite in a forgiving mood just yet – she resolved to go home and work on the next phase of her plan. All that mattered were the journals and freeing her mother. She wasn't here to make friends – certainly not with someone who looked identical to the person who betrayed them all and left Anna feeling hollow for decades.

"Anna, wait!" Elena called, running up to her. "You forgot your notebook in class!" she panted, breathless.

Anna just eyed her dubiously. Was this girl for real? Did she really chase after her through the school? "Thanks!" she chirped, hoping the enthusiasm that she forced into her voice clouded the very obvious suspicion of her motives. There was no way someone who looked exactly like that two-faced bitch, Katherine Pierce, could have anything resembling noble intentions. And yet, her smile was so open – her demeanor appeared so earnest.

There was something about Elena that seemed so achingly genuine.

"Do you need a ride home?" Elena asked, noticing Anna wasn't headed to the parking lot.

She had to clamp down the instinct to turn her down; instead, Anna reasoned that perhaps letting Elena drive her to the house she'd claimed for herself would provide her with a valuable opportunity to continue building their earlier rapport. Perhaps she'd have those journals in her hands even sooner than she anticipated.

And then she'd be reunited with her mother at last.

"Sure."

March 2009

"Caroline's in rare form today," Anna grinned at an exasperated Elena who shot out of cheerleading practice like a gigantic, corporeal, and human-shaped photon. "I heard her screaming all the way from the cafeteria."

"Tell me about it," Elena mumbled, desperate to put her belongings away and dash from sight before Caroline noticed her absence during the tiny five-minute break they finally got between grueling routines. What she really wanted to do was curl up with a good book, or her journal – or literally anything where he could switch her focus on her mind, because her body had more than enough of a workout that day. "Her best frenemy from last year's cheer camp just –"

"Elena Gilbert!" interrupted a decidedly shrill and petrifyingly angry voice coming out to the front of the school, its owner looking and sounding every bit like the Regina George's angrier cousin. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I had a … uh… a leg cramp," Elena attempted lamely, desperate to get away.

Caroline looked at her dubiously, scrutinizing her friend who only occasionally had the ability to lie effectively, and even then, she had to partly believe her own lies for it to actually work. This was not one of those times. "Well, take five, and right back at it – we have to master this new routine for the game next week. I won't let that brainless halfwit beat us to regionals."

"Regionals?" Elena asked uncertainly. "Since when are we going to regionals?"

"Since that walking Silicone-for-Brains, Cally Henderson, made it her mission to take her squad there," Caroline huffed. Caroline and Cally had been practically set up against one another from the start of camp – both fashionable blonde captains with fierce determination and a dedicated treatise to ambition a mile wide. Both scored Slytherin on the Sorting Hat quiz the girls took for fun after a particularly exhausting cheer session, and both aimed to wear the title of Queen Bee of camp for the remainder of their stay. And now that Cally had her sights set on regional championships, Caroline was determined to move mountains, human-filled skyscrapers, and the Earth itself to beat her.

"What's the routine?" Anna asked innocently, eager for another opportunity to tease the girls with her very special set of abilities. In truth, keeping this secret was starting to wear on her, and she found herself dying to ease them into it, but every time she came close to confessing, she'd remember the way this town turned against them in 1864, and was instead overcome by fear of a repeat betrayal.

Elena and Caroline and Bonnie certainly seemed to care for her and be open minded – though she suspected the latter had at least an inkling of her not-quite-human status – but her mother had been equally sure of Johnathan Gilbert's affections, and all it got her was desiccation for over a century.

"I'm so happy you asked!" Caroline chirped with a wickedly scheming gleam in her eyes. Ever since Anna started letting her astounding athleticism show, Caroline's been determined to get the reluctant self-proclaimed weirdo on the squad – no matter what it took. "Bet even you can't imitate this, Anna!" she challenged, hoping Anna would take the bait.

From this, Caroline launched into a complicated fusion of acrobatics and dance, completing her presentation with an elegant twirl and split.

"Oh, please!" Anna scoffed. "Piece of cake. Watch!"

And then, to the utter bewilderment of her spectators, Anna Zhu perfectly imitated the Timberwolves' routine after only having seen it once – executing somersault after elegant somersault with precise perfection – and even exchanged the split for a flip at the end, a sassy hand resting on her hip and a playful wink aimed at Caroline in her eye.

Elena just watched, both amazed and intimidated – and perhaps a touch relieved that her suspicions about not being entirely made for cheerleading were more accurate than she previously surmised. She'd always been more mental than physical – her mind flitting between literature and medicine and scribbling in her journal – while she quickly threw together her hair and makeup each morning, instead choosing to dwell in the wilds in her imagination, the results of which often ended up in said diary.

She lacked Caroline's attention to detail, to the almost meditative dedication of having not a hair out of place – not a touch of her perfect eyeshadow and eyeliner smeared or asymmetrical or in any way flawed. Caroline not only colored inside every line with perfect precision, she drew additional lines within which to stay.

Elena's hands moved outside the lines of their own volition, while her dreamy mind wrote the day away in journal after journal.

"You have to try out for the squad!" Caroline demanded, not for the first time – but with more adamant fervor than ever before. "That lazy cow, Tina, has been slacking all year. I'd kill for you to take her spot. Kill, Anna," she stressed through gritted teeth, frustrated when Anna just kept the same immovable smirk on her lips, making no sign of acquiescing. "Please?" she whined. "I'll even make you my Co-Captain!" she chirped brightly. "I'll let you choreograph some cheers?"

Anna just laughed, finally releasing the pose. "Nah, not my thing." She loved teasing Caroline this way – keeping the carrot just out of reach, while secretly hoping that if she ever got the courage to reveal her vampirism that her friends would be accepting of her true nature.

May 24, 2009

Anna eventually moved to sit next to Elena, and the two girls took comfort in having their arms around one another, enveloped in a comfortable silence. Elena's family would be called to pick her up soon, probably wondering why they allowed Anna in so quickly.

"Anna," Elena broke the silence, her gaze awash with curiosity, and perhaps the slightest blush. "Who was that guy that I met? You seemed to know him."

Anna practically groaned in annoyance. Out of all the horrors that happened this night, the one silver lining would have been for Elena to have completely forgotten her surprising interaction with that annoying relic from her past. Why did she have to interrupt them? She should have just let him carry on with the compulsion. Not for the first time, Anna completely regretted her actions earlier that night.

"Oh, Damon?" Anna asked cautiously, analyzing Elena's reaction with the diligence a biologist would exercise when studying a particularly fascinating organism under a microscope.

"Yeah," Elena breathed, her blush deepening, having clearly been touched in the deepest fibers of her heart by the vampire in question.

This wasn't good, Anna decided. Although a crush would be a fantastic distraction for her now, Damon – Damon, who was in love with the traitorous bitch who wore Elena's face, who wouldn't hesitate for an instant to hurt her, whose humanity was undoubtedly off – seemed to spell absolute trouble. She'd have to handle this matter delicately.

"You should really stay away from him."

Chapter 4: A Love that Consumes

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May 23, 2009

Elena had wandered off from the party to take in the night air – to look at the stars, marveling in wonder at how being in the forest, and therefore sufficiently far away from civilization, allowed the majestic beauty of the Milky Way to come forth. Anna mentioned that the Lamia Comet, which would be visible to the naked eye, would be visiting them within the coming months, due in Autumn. Their newest friend's excitement about it was so contagious that all four girls planned a star – and comet – gazing trip when the temperatures turned cooler, with soft sweaters and wool blankets their ever-present companions. They'd even conspired to sneak away a bottle of wine to clandestinely share over giggles and speculations about the boys in their year.

But for now, Elena was thrilled for Summer, because that meant her birthday. In less than a month, she would be 17-years-old – only a year away from complete independence, when her overprotective parents would have absolutely no say over how late she stayed out.

She would be free. Finally.

Free to discover and adventure to her heart's content.

She couldn't wait to leave Mystic Falls and explore the world around her. College would be her ticket – she'd try and see and feel and learn everything imaginable. While her parents took her traveling when she was a child, it always came with rules and regulations and exhaustive precautions for her safety – but the bug had already bitten, and Elena's heart was alight with wonder at all that she would be able to uncover without those restrictions. She loved them dearly for it, and she took the chiding words of her laughing mother that she would understand when she – herself – had children, to heart - but that would be a future Elena. A more grown up and settled Elena.

An Elena who had a chance to fulfill her passions.

An Elena who had already experienced all the adventure that life had to offer and would be content to pay special heed to safety and precautions and yes, even rules, when the time came.

But for now, she was almost excited by the hint of a little danger.

For now, she wanted to try everything, learn everything, feel everything – to explore her insatiable curiosities to her heart's content.

"Katherine," she suddenly heard a voice, a breath, a whisper of pure reverence. Turning to its source, she was confronted with the bluest eyes she'd seen in her life in a stunningly almond shape, framed by midnight lashes so thick that they looked almost like a painting. These embers of cerulean fire wrapped in strokes of night belonged to a man more beautiful than she could even imagine – but there was an allure about him that transcended the physical. It was something in his eyes – his gaze – she felt indescribably and irrevocably drawn to him, and she couldn't quite figure out why.

She had to fight her instinct to gasp at the sight of him, a strange feeling deep in the pit of her chest telling her that this meeting – this moment – was vital and important and altogether world-changing.

In the next instant, she chided herself for being such a silly girl. She obviously wasn't Katherine, and he was looking for someone else. She looked around self-consciously before speaking in her best effort to avoid becoming that awkward cliché of waving back at a greeting clearly not meant for her, but no one else had been around.

"No, um," she replied with that same awkwardness she had just unconsciously talked herself into and desperately hoped to shed. "I'm Elena."

"Oh, you just look," he replied reflexively with something akin to disappointment. "I'm sorry," he followed, having evidently collected himself, a dangerously alluring smirk gracing his lips. "You just really remind me of someone. I'm Damon."

"Not to be rude or anything, Damon, but it's kind of creepy that you're out here in the middle of nowhere," she teased, hoping to quell that ache in her heart – or at the very least convince him that it couldn't possibly exist. Maybe if she appeared standoffish? Her mind immediately pivoted to all those examples of the Tsundere archetypes in fiction Jeremy seemed to find so attractive – or perhaps that was the way he explained it.

"You're one to talk. You're out here all by yourself," he replied, his eyes dancing with mirth.

"It's Mystic Falls," she explained with an inward roll of her eyes, only vaguely aware of contradicting herself. "Nothing bad ever happens here."

Now he seemed to be fighting an actual grin, clearly amused by the line of conversation, though Elena couldn't quite figure out why.

"I got into a fight with my ex-boyfriend, and just needed to get some air – some space," she gave by way of explanation to the silent query in his expressive eyes. Matt had indulged in a few too many beers with the rest of the football team and had been hounding her all night. It took nearly all her resolve to break up with him in the first place, steadying herself for what felt like hours to finally face the pain in his eyes and not acquiesce to its pleas.

She hated hurting him.

But both her mom and Anna had been right – the pain would be temporary, and they'd both be in a better place ultimately. It would be a healing pain, like a surgical instrument cutting away a growth – a growth that should have never taken place when their relationship was always meant to be friendship, never straying to the realm of the romantic – that left her feeling trapped and stifled and panicked that the only way for her to achieve her dreams was to break her friend's heart.

And it wounded her to do so, herself aching at what she imagined to be his pain.

Perhaps removing this would finally help them get back to the place they belong, Anna assured a tearful Elena, who was afraid that she'd hurt Matt so irrevocably that even their friendship wouldn't survive.

Anna just laughed in that mysterious way of hers, with eyes that at times looked entirely too ancient and worldly for her otherwise youthful appearance, and told her that time heals nearly all wounds – but especially broken teenage hearts.

"About what?" the man charmingly inquired, then raised his hands in mock-surrender, indicating that he had no intention to pilfer into business that wasn't his. "May I ask."

"He wanted to get back together, and it took everything I had to gather the courage to break up with him at all," she sighed, wrapping her arms around herself, surprising herself at her sudden vulnerability with this stranger.

The man narrowed his eyebrows pensively, scrutinizing her. "Why was it so hard for you?"

Elena just looked at him for a few seconds, surprised at the inquiry and said, "because I didn't want to hurt him," like it was the most obvious answer on Earth.

He seemed a bit taken aback by that, but recovered quickly, though she noticed the surprise in his gaze; followed immediately the barest hint of a soft, affectionate smile; quickly overtaken by curiosity – he was looking at her as though she was a puzzle. There was a fierce and calculating intelligence in his gaze, but also a sense of mischief. She ached to know what was really on his mind – in his heart. She got the distinct feeling that he was hardly the type to wear his deepest emotions on his sleeve – a mystery.

"So why the break-up, then?" he followed.

"I –" Elena began, prepared to launch into an explanation, then thought better of it. She laughed, though the sound was hollow. "Life, future – he's got it all mapped out."

"And you don't want it?" he asked with a knowing smirk.

"I don't know what I want," she admitted with a shrug. It seemed to be her perpetual dilemma. Everyone around her seemed to have their futures so beautifully planned out. Caroline was already scouting Ivy Leagues and prepping her application. She had every proverbial 'i' dotted and 't' crossed – perpetually punctual, organized, capable, efficient – with her mark in every major club, committee, and town event.

Elena just wanted to explore – with no real clue as to what would give her heart and mind enough pause. She wanted to try everything, to learn everything – a grand adventure.

She wanted to be happy. To find love – to live a sincere and authentic life catering to her passions, her dreams, the realest her. Shouldn't she be given a chance to find out who that was?

And yet, when she communicated this to her guidance counselor, she was only met with derision. 'A grand adventure' wasn't a life plan. Her father had known he wanted to be a doctor since he was a child – and Elena was incredibly interested in medicine, and writing, and …

And that was the problem. There were too many 'ands.'

Conclusively, she had no idea what she wanted. Not really.

"Well, that's not true," the dashing stranger that seemingly captivated her heart already replied with an easy grin. "You want what everybody wants."

"What?" Elena retorted, her own smile growing like an unstoppable force, bubbling forth to tease him. "Mysterious stranger who has all the answers?"

He laughed – a real, genuine laugh that had overtaken the sardonic smirk for the briefest of moments, and yet another piece of Elena's heart jumped into his of its own accord, belonging to him forever. "Let's just say I've been around for a long time. I've learned a few things."

Elena could have scoffed at his co*ckiness – he couldn't be much older than her. Challenging him, she took an incremental step forward and lifted her chin in a playfully measuring gesture. "So, tell me, Damon. What is it that I want?"

The jest in his eyes was suddenly replaced by intensity, and he took a step toward her confidently. Elena immediately felt her heart speed up. There was a certain danger to him – an unpredictability – and she found it wildly exciting. "You want a love that consumes you. You want passion, and adventure – and even a little danger," Damon said to an altogether mesmerized Elena. To hear her heart's dearest wish spoken aloud by a dashing stranger was almost more than she could handle that night. Her heart had already beat in allegro, its tempo increasing by the second – how did he know? How could he possibly know?

Only marginally aware of the stars shining in her midnight eyes, she fought every romantic urge within her for an ounce of control – to let her speak again. She wanted to know him. She wanted so very much to know just everything about him. Smiling – unable to stop her smile, really, she asked, "And what do you want?"

He looked taken aback, as though the question surprised him. Elena ached in anticipation when his eyes lit up – he was going to answer – she would learn his heart's greatest desire, but they were suddenly interrupted by honking, and her heart fell a bit heavily.

"It's my parents," she explained, gesturing to the approaching vehicle. She took out her phone, hopeful that he'll ask for her number, when he was suddenly directly in front of her, his pupils shifting in the most peculiar way.

"I want you to get everything you're looking for, but for now –" he began, in a soothing, dulcet, almost affectionate tone.

"Damon! What an unexpected surprise!" Anna announced in interruption of Damon's compulsion, seemingly coming from out of nowhere, and coming to stand directly between them, so that he no longer had a clear line of sight to Elena's eyes.

Elena could have sworn that was decidedly forced – and almost sardonic cheer in Anna's voice – and resolved to ask her about it later.

The honk sounded again, and she looked away for only an instant, but when she turned back, Damon was gone, and the only name she could think of to explain the expression on Anna's face was 'determined.'

May 24, 2009

Anna stared at Elena for a few brief seconds as her friend seemed lost in thought.

Damon. The person that she was when she met him might as well have been someone completely different – a veritable stranger to her now.

She was adventurous, passionate, curious, rebellious – romantic.

These qualities got her parents killed.

She wouldn't – couldn't – be that person anymore. No, now Elena had to cling to safety – to follow the trusted, surest, most frequented roads. Because what she did before spelled danger – what she did before nearly destroyed her whole, or maybe was still wrecking her down to her very soul.

What she did before left her a shattered, gaping chasm – completely hollow on the inside – held together by tears, fear, and heartbreak.

No, Elena didn't want a life of a love that consumed her, passion, adventure – and certainly not danger.

Because it was the search for adventure that led her to sneak out that night – her own stupid, selfish desire to live a life that's free and full of passion. Now the thought just filled her with abject fear. No, she didn't want it.

And love? Especially love that consumed her? She knew what it felt like now to have loved ones die now – and if she ever lost the kind of love of which she'd dreamed, there would be nothing left of her.

No, she didn't want it.

Not anymore. The price she paid for being that girl was far too high. That girl – that free, that wild, that romantic girl – withdrew deep into Elena until she could scarcely hear her voice. She shut her away, locking her behind reinforced doors and nigh-impenetrable walls, where her sounds of laughter and play couldn't be heard anymore.

Where her once-cheerful voice soared became but a hushed whisper, sometimes its barest traces fighting free – reflected in the water and riding on the waves, playfully caressing the wind – but altogether far away, unreachable, a ghost of yesteryear.

New Elena had taken her place. And new Elena was careful, and solemn, and she would prize safety above all.

May 23, 2009

Unbelievable. Damon f*cking Salvatore was back in town, and by the looks of Elena's starry-eyed expression, he'd already gotten his hooks into her. He fled the second Anna confronted him, because he always had to be astoundingly difficult. Even when he was a sweet and earnest human, there was always that mischievous fire just beneath the surface. She could only imagine what decades of vampirism had done to stoke it.

Mumbling a quick excuse to Elena about not needing a ride home with her folks after all, she barely caught her in a quick hug before dashing away into the night at normal human speed, until the Gilberts' car was no longer in her peripheral vision, and she was free to give superhuman chase to Damon.

She finally ended up tracking him to a bar just outside of town, flirting with an attractive – and clearly proud – member of the Tri-Delta Sorority, if one were to take her prominently displayed pin as evidence. The girl twirled the tip of her tightly-wound ponytail in her hand, giving him ample view of her neck, which Anna fully understood was his real target, and would likely be subject to the kind of wounds that would require scarves throughout the Summer as soon as she followed him to a place without prying eyes. By the looks of their increasingly physical flirtation, it wouldn't take much longer.

Or it wouldn't have, if Anna hadn't every intention to disrupt his evening, because she had much more pressing plans.

Summoning all her obnoxiousness with the greatest pleasure, she pulled up a stool and took a seat between Damon and his intended snack. "Hi!" she cheerfully greeted, to the shocked eyes of the lady in question and Damon's increasingly annoyed gaze.

"Annabelle," Damon deadpanned unenthusiastically, his fingers seeming to find the bridge of his nose of their own volition. "What an unexpected pleasure," he added, throwing a version of her own words back at her, and sounding every bit like the exact opposite was true.

"I actually go by 'Anna' now," she said with the sweetest, most faux naïveté she could possibly muster, which Damon didn't buy for a second.

"Who is this?" growled the woman possessively.

He smirked, in a way that Anna found to be profoundly annoying. At least when he was a human, he had the decency to hide his sarcastic retorts and mocking nature, but vampire Damon clearly had no such desires. "My annoying kid sister," he said with fake affection, ruffling Anna's hair like the king of all douches, as far as she was concerned. "Thinks she's all grown up now that she finally stopped wetting the bed at twelve – gave herself a new, big girl name and everything," Damon explained dramatically, pressing a hand to his heart to show his immense pride, then pulled closer to Sorority Snack for a loud stage whisper. "Our folks said I have to spend time with her as a reward, so she keeps up the good work."

Anna narrowed her eyes, having it up to the tip of her admittedly not very tall stature with digs at her apparent age. Yes, she was young when she was turned – and it's proven to be profoundly annoying for the last 550 or so years. Not that a comparative baby vamp like Damon would understand, having had the good fortune to at least spend his undead life looking like an adult – even if his behavior clearly resembled her physical age more, Anna thought derisively.

And the fact that he'd already discovered Elena's existence had her worried, but his presence here could be potentially useful.

"At a bar?" the Unnamed Snack raised a dubious eyebrow.

Damon just shrugged, not willing to go into an explanation with his next meal and took another sip of his bourbon while evidently contemplating the best way to get rid of Anna, or whatever she called herself these days.

"Congratulations, honey!" the Tri-Delt cheered in a manner that didn't convince anyone, an irritated smile frozen on her face. "You don't look twelve."

"Thank you!" Anna shot back, glaring at Damon. "That would be because –"

"Aw! Aren't you almost a grown-up, sweetie?" he mocked with the most ostentatious affection. "She'll be thirteen in just eleven months! So soon."

"You forgot your gonorrhea medication at home again, big bro," Anna replied with the widest, most innocent eyes she could muster. "I just wanted to make sure you took today's dose, unlike the last few days," she followed in a sing-song cadence, pursing her lips in apparent disapproval. Then she turned to Damon's prospective-food-slash-lady-friend and shook her head sympathetically. "My poor brother. He sounds like an emo banshee whenever he has to," she dropped her voice meaningfully, "relieve himself. Mom said he was becoming way too vocal in acting out all his gonorrhea symptoms, and she thinks he might actually be doing it for attention" she added shaking her head, then grew immediately energetic again. "Oh, and how he loves discussing those sores. What did you say the pus looked like, Damon? Was it –"

"Poor, sweet Anna," Damon interrupted, stroking her hair in mock affection, which Anna promptly knocked away. "She had a little accident when she bolted out of bed – during one of her regular nightly accidents – and hit her head—"

"Okay, I think I'll leave you two to your sibling bonding," Snacky-Snack said, growing visibly uncomfortable, and trying to extricate herself from the group.

"No, stay," Damon quickly said poutily, compelling her. "Or better yet, go outside. Wait for me."

"No, leave," Anna turned, placing her compulsion over Damon's. "Go home. Forget this ever happened."

Damon tried compelling her again, but the woman wouldn't be affected. By now profoundly annoyed, he turned to Anna's obnoxiously smirking face.

"Your compulsions have nothing on mine, baby vamp," Anna needled, unable to resist after having been called a 12-year-old for nearly an entire conversation.

"I know you're obsessed with this sexy body,Anna," he stressed her preferred name sarcastically. "But you can't have it. You didn't have to chase my dinner away in a jealous rage. I told you before," he wagged his finger disapprovingly.

Anna just rolled her eyes. "Wow, so your need to use jokes to cover your feelings went from covert to overt with vampirism. What a sad little baby vamp you are, Damon," she deadpanned. "Because the idea of an obsession with 'your sexy body,' as you called it," she prompted with air quotes, "is exactly that – a joke. But I guess you're going to tell me that you're saving yourself for Katherine."

Damon smirked, with it deepening with every second. "Not exactly, though I'm very curious about that human friend of yours – "

"Stay away from her. She'snotKatherine," Anna growled.

Damon raised both eyebrows in surprise of her ardent defense, giddy with discovery, then leaned forward to make a show of scrutinizing her, analyzing Anna's suddenly serious demeanor, before she schooled her features to neutrality again. "Obviously not. Way too open and earnest – and so genuine," he added in a way that was almost bewildered. "I can't even imagine associating those adjectives with Katherine – and it all seemed very real," he added with narrowed eyes, then grinned obnoxiously. "But you, my dear Annabelle, prevented me from compelling any memory of me away, so maybe she's the one who won't be able to stay away," he added smugly.

"Oh, she will," Anna insisted. "I'll make sure if it."

Damon just grinned wider and wider and wider. "We'll see about that."

May 24, 2009

Anna reached for Elena's hand, concerned that she seemed to drift off into her own world again. On one hand, dissociating so often after a trauma of this magnitude was completely normal; on the other hand, it was vital to get her to stay mindful and in the moment. Maybe she could convince her to go to therapy?

"Elena?"

"What?" Elena suddenly reappeared. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Where did you go?" Anna asked, concerned.

Elena just shook her head, clearly not wanting to explore that dreary train of thought, and instead smiled, choosing to focus on a more pleasant avenue. "So why do you want me to stay away from Damon, anyway? Who is he? You obviously know him."

Anna thought for a moment. Telling a girl that the guy she's clearly attracted to is dangerous could very easily backfire – and the Elena she knew, at least prior to the events that took place the night before – had been thrilled by a little element of danger. No, this would have to be done a bit more methodically – with some finesse and flair.

She smirked, and thanked Damon for the idea. She'd take it right out of his playbook, after all.

Affecting her most sympathetic gaze, she squeezed Elena's hand. "Oh, Damon, poor Damon. There was an accident last month – he hit his head and developed a very serious case of retrograde amnesia. He thinks he's twelve-years-old again," she sighed morosely, hoping Elena bought it. Anna was certainly having difficulty keeping a straight face.

"Oh my God!" Elena gasped, her hands covering her lips on sympathy and horror. "That poor guy! But – he seemed so…" she trailed off, suddenly shy. Seemed what? Alluring? Sexy?

Anna bit her lip in sympathy, mirroring one of Elena's physical tells, and shaking her head. "I'm afraid it's true. That 'really romantic speech' he gave you? He got it from a YouTube video called 'How to Score Hot Older Chicks.' He'd been trying it out all evening – you were just too busy fighting with Matt to notice," Anna said with profoundest empathy. "I had to hear it at least thirty times," she emphasized. "It's really practiced – perfectly rehearsed," she added with almost a touch of pride. "Maybe it's a good sign that his brain is healing."

"But, couldn't we help him somehow?" Elena pleaded, her heart going out to this poor soul. "How do you know him? Did his doctors say if there's any hope?"

"I know his mom," Anna said, suddenly serious, "and she's the biggest Karen in existence."

"Like Carol Lockwood?" Elena winced.

"Bigger!" Anna stressed, trying to keep track of her growing lies. "And you should stay away – trust me. You don't want her to catch you talking to him – 'corrupting her sweet angel' – she'll make your life miserable."

Elena nodded, though Anna could have sworn she saw an empathetic determination in her eye, her bleeding heart unable to resist the allure of helping a wounded soul, but she chose to ignore it for the time being. Damon was unlikely to return until the comet appeared, anyway, and hopefully, by then, they'll have moved on from acknowledging his existence.

Inwardly, Anna smirked. Now who's 12? And the added bonus was that Elena would probably not consider him a romantic candidate, thank goodness. The last thing she needed was to be attracted to a man who was in love with her evil twin – who spent decades waiting to free her from a tomb in which she was never prisoner.

When they open the tomb, and now that Damon had reluctantly agreed to share the knowledge of the crystal with her, they most likely would – she'd probably had to deal with the fallout of his inevitable heartbreak when he would learn the truth about Katherine's whereabouts, and the possible resulting tantrum.

But that's a future Anna problem.

For now, she had to ensure the release of her mother, protect her best friend, and keep the Founders Council in the dark about the existence of vampires in Mystic Falls.

Easy-Peasy. Right?

Chapter 5: The Way to a Friend's Heart is through Oodles and Oodles of Eggplant

Chapter Text

Early June 2009

The first few days since Elena returned from the hospital had been surreal. It felt like another world – another life – and she had become a whole other person.

The laughing girl of yesteryear was locked away behind a nigh-impenetrable wall, on the other side of a near-uncrossable divider.

She lived in the unreachable, verdant, and almost fantastical before - a period when her parents were alive, and her family was whole, and life was happy and hopeful, and she was deserving of joy; the current Elena lived in the after. The separation between them may as well have been an infinitely aching chasm.

There were mornings when she woke up, still convinced that she dwelled there - eager to run into her mom's arms and share the news of an upcoming dance; discuss a new idea or topic they covered at school, eagerly seeking her clever opinion; seek romantic advice, her heart constricting at the thought of hurting Matt, but even more so at the idea of not letting it at once wander and soar toward what it really wanted - a love that consumed her.

But then she remembered - and it was like losing them all over again. Every time. Every day.

And yet… something pulled at her. Tiny strings, near imperceptible, kept that girl afloat, letting her peer out into the world at the most unexpected moments.

"What did you say that video was called? 'How to Score Hot Older Chicks,' right?" Elena called from her room, while Anna was returning from the kitchen with her monster-of-a-sandwich and some fruit for them to consume. "I've been looking for hours, and all I've found were awkward pick-up lines."

"What?" Anna mumbled, finally swallowing the string cheese she'd been munching while balancing a veritable feast on her two hands, all the while grateful that Jenna kept the house so fully stocked. Anna didn't strictly need to eat human food, but she liked it – and it helped keep up appearances. But what she especially loved was gorging on ridiculous quantities of cuisine high in calories in front of Caroline – that jealous rage was probably the most hilarious thing she'd seen all week.

"The video," Elena reiterated, her voice almost approaching excitement. "The one you said Damon watched? Where he got that speech?" she prompted impatiently, then pressed at Anna's confused gaze, her own affecting an almost romantic quality. "You want a love that consumes you. You want passion, and adventure – and even a little danger."

"You memorized it?" Anna asked a bit bewildered. In truth, this was the first time she'd seen Elena out of bed for more than a few minutes since she came home, which was definitely a welcome sign. Less welcome, however, was that it was inspired by her brief conversation with Salvatore.

Elena bit her lip shyly, fighting a blush. "It spoke to me," she admitted quietly, her eyes downcast as she wrung her hands nervously. "At least it spoke to who I was, before –"

"Hey," Anna interrupted softly. "You don't have to let that part of you go, Elena."

Elena just shook her head, not quite yet ready to hear those words. "I … I want to find the creator of the video, Anna," Elena admitted in a hushed confession, as though she feared being overheard unveiling her heart's secret, despite them being the only two in the room. "There's something about what he said that touched me – right in the heart, down to my very soul. I want to meet him."

"You want to meet the creator of 'How to Score Hot Older Chicks'," Anna smirked with a distinctly raised eyebrow. "Well, you'd have to be the first person over the age of eleven that does. That video had to be taken down, E. Too many tweens sneaking into high school parties past their bedtimes, worrying their poor moms to dire premature aging," she added, reducing the age by another year to hopefully, finally, take away the appeal of that speech. Why was she being so stubborn?

Elena just rolled her eyes with a grin and threw a pillow at Anna. "It's hard to explain," she sighed. "But – ever since… a few days ago ... I feel completely untethered. Nothing makes sense anymore. But I still feel some connection to those words. They're keeping me afloat," Elena explained, her voice almost drenched with desperation. "And it's strange, because when he said them – I felt excited – but now I just feel fear. Everything about them scares me, because that attitude is what led to –"

"No, it didn't," Anna insisted, not for the first or tenth - or even the last, she suspected - time. "There was nothing wrong with your attitude."

"It terrifies me, but – they're inside of me – somewhere deep. Somewhere deep and forgotten – a part that's very much still alive" Elena confessed with a hushed whisper. "And I have no idea what that means."

Late April 2009

Anna walked out of the house she shared with Noah, a particularly annoying vampire from her last Mystic Falls stay in the mid-1800s. Luckily, his honestly disturbing fascination with Katherine kept him away for most of their existence since then, but they managed to cross paths yet again several months ago, much to her annoyance – since it seemed he also heard about the comet and correctly guessed that Anna would be in town, hoping she would lead him to his object of his at-once love and hate.

Noah gushed how he once saw her in Chicago for a few minutes, but she managed to shake him yet again after a brief almost tryst - the accounts of which Anna was fairly certain were greatly exaggerated. In reality, Anna was relatively sure that Noah would have been lucky to get a slight scratch behind the ears like the eager widdle puppy that he was.

Fine, Anna thought. She was considerably older, stronger – and undoubtedly smarter – she reasoned with a scoff, and allowed him to tag along, as long as he stayed out of her way. And having him around might get the school authorities off her back about living with a legal guardian, so he definitely had his uses. She convinced him that because her mother and Katherine had been best friends once, Pearl would undoubtedly know where and how to find that two-faced trollop, and Noah was only too eager to believe her. Idiot.

At times, she even found him vaguely amusing – that was until the morning when Elena Gilbert knocked on her door before school.

Anna answered it, bewildered, her vampiric ears immediately isolating her unique signature breath – humans each one that made them so recognizable and discernible, Anna marveled, and found them endlessly useful. She also noted that Elena kept running her hands through her hair, so she was nervous. With a shrug, and clearly losing the battle with her rising curiosity, Anna went to answer the door to see what her friend wanted.

Friend. Were they becoming friends? Anna tasted the word on her tongue, its cadence an exhaling breath, and found herself surprised at how true it was.

She and Elena were friends. Actual friends. It'd been such a long time since she had a friend, she thought with a pang.

Shaking off the simultaneously maudlin and elated thoughts, she quickly turned the knob. "Hey," Anna greeted half-warily, half-inquisitively, as she opened the door and stepped out.

"Hey!" Elena greeted brightly, though the chewed lip gave away her anxiety immediately.

"What's up?" Anna asked, deciding to forgo bluntness this time around and not just blatantly ask her what she was doing here before school.

"I thought I'd give you a ride?" Elena replied, inflecting up with nervous cheer. "If you want," she hastened to add, considerably more subdued. She hated prying and overstepping boundaries, usually at once aghast and envious of Caroline's ability to do so without qualms - so this was definitely out of her comfort zone.

Anna kept quiet, having long ago learned the value of silence and how uncomfortable it can be. Even though she grudgingly admitted to herself that she and Elena were becoming friends, old habits certainly seemed to die hard, and she had a penchant for liking to win. It was an old negotiation tactic – one that served her quite well over the years. And the one most comfortable with prolonged silence was frequently given the upper hand.

Unable to contain herself any longer, Elena's entire demeanor collapsed, and she extended both hands to her friend, unconsciously palms up, Anna noted – a show of sincerity. "You seemed really sad yesterday after school," Elena explained uncomfortably. "It was such a jackass move of Tanner to host Family Day, knowing…" she began hotly, then trailed off, her eyes widening as she caught her own tactlessness, then swallowed thickly. "I thought you could use a friend. O-or a reminder that you have friends. That we're here for you," she finally nervously amended with a slight and very uncharacteristic stutter.

Anna smiled, genuinely, quite touched despite herself. "Yeah, sure. Come on in. Give me a few minutes to gather my stuff."

Before Anna was able to step away inside, Elena grabbed her and gathered her in a quick hug. "I know it's not the same – and I know we can never replace her – but we'll be your family, too, okay?"

"Okay," Anna ground out, fighting to keep the emotion out of her voice, as her arms squeezed Elena of their own volition. She'd been fighting it for so long, it seemed. In truth, the last few months had been the happiest she'd felt in decades. She loved laughing and bonding with Elena; teasing Caroline; trying to puzzle out Bonnie.

But the two of them had grown especially close. She often marveled at how Elena seemed to have enough empathy to make up for Katherine's complete absence of it – like he carried it for them both – frequently to her own detriment. When she learned about her loss, Katherine's apparent doppelgänger had made it her mission to heal her.

And in some ways, she almost succeeded. Who knew that after all this time what Anna Zhu really needed was friends?

The old her would have scoffed and laughed herself into oblivion for being so corny, but maybe friendship really was magical – a healing boon born of love.

The two girls finally separated and entered what was once Mystic Falls' most unassuming foreclosure, where an eagle-eyed man greeted them with excitement and rapture in his gaze.

"Oh, you're still here," Anna deadpanned, seeing her annoying tag-along. "Elena, this human Saint Bernard – judging by the drool – is my cousin, Noah," she introduced, before he slipped and called her by her doppelgängers name. She was not ready to havethatconversation yet.

"Elena," Noah greeted, stepping forward – the wide smile on his face never shrinking and giving Elena an unsettling feeling, forcing her to fight the urge to take a step back. "What a beautiful name."

"Thank you," Elena replied, quite proud that she managed to keep her voice even. There was something about Anna's cousin that she found deeply disconcerting, but she couldn't quite tell what.

"Oh!" Anna suddenly exclaimed. "Can you go get my schoolbag from my room?"

"Why can't you get it?" Noah shot back, never taking his eyes off Elena and taking another step closer.

Anna smiled in a way that Noah would always find terrifying, and placed a hand on his shoulder, crushing it under her palm just enough for an effective show of strength. The sweetness of her tone belied her actual message. "Because you're my dear, sweet cousin, and I asked you to."

"Fine," he huffed, promptly disappearing up the stairs, only to return almost a second later with Anna's school supplies.

"That was fast!" Elena cheered nervously, trying to ease the sudden awkwardness that enveloped the room.

"Well, my dear … cousin … asked me for a favor, and I thought I would comply as a show of love. I can be veryattentive, Elena," he replied in a way that Elena found undoubtedly creepy. It was the way he kept saying her name – like he didn't quite believe it – like he was teasing a liar that he'd caught in the act, dangling the security of belief right before the axe came down in a shocking reveal.

"Wow, well, thank you for that touching declaration, cuz," Anna replied with an almost involuntary roll of her eyes, patting him on the back a little harder than strictly necessary, then turned to Elena. "Wait for me in the car? I need to give Noah here some instructions to make sure the dinner I prepped last night doesn't spoil."

"Sure!" Elena beamed, relieved to be given leave from Noah, though not quite sure why she felt this way, and practically ran out the door.

"She looks like Katherine," Noah mumbled, partly to Anna, but mostly to himself.

The placid expression that Anna wore when Elena was in the house quickly melted away, and Noah found himself thrown against the table, with his arm painfully twisted behind his back. "Well, she's not. And if you value your limbs, you'll stay the f*ck away. Got it?"

"She's human. Her blood smells human," Noah groaned. "How? I'm sure Katherine would want to meet her," he added with a touch of wonder, as though he just had an inkling of the best idea.

"Do I need to repeat myself Noah?" Anna threatened, disliking the lack of flair a show of force often entailed, but she had to admit that it got results. "Or do you need another demonstration?"

Noah just shook his head, always quick to give into Anna's commands. He'd made the mistake of defying her only once and learned his lesson quickly.

Direct opposition with Anna never worked – not when she had several hundred years on him. But the extended lifespan of vampirism came with the understanding of the value of patience, and Noah knew how to bide his time.

Mid-June 2009

Elena hadn't left her room in days, and frankly, Jenna was starting to worry about the deterioration of her mental health, not to mention her hygiene. Caroline and Bonnie had little success in getting her up, so Anna was evidently their last hope.

"Stopped your obsessive search for your tween-inspiring Twin Flame?" Anna quipped after Elena refused to acknowledge her existence, and just laid on the bed, facing away from her for the 15 minutes that passed since she entered. "Don't want to talk?" Anna asked with a shrug, knowing she had a secret weapon. She removed a container from her paper bag, before opening and enticingly dangling it near Elena's head, sure the smell would reach her eventually. "Not even for … grilled eggplant?"

"Where? How!?" Elena immediately perked up, bolting out of bed for the first time in what felt like ages. The movement immediately made her dizzy.

"I convinced that surly new guy, Ben, to make it at the Grill," Anna announced smugly.

"How?" Elena asked, shocked, grabbing some of the slices right out of the packaging, forgoing the need for utensils or really any propriety at all. "Mmmmm," she sighed and leaned back, enjoying the juicy taste of delicious umami on her tongue, before sitting up and finally remembering her train of thought again. "I remember him from school. He'd never do anyone a favor unless there was something in it for him. What did you promise him?"

"Nothing!" Anna scoffed, then grinned mischievously. "You know how persuasive I can be."

"I know," Elena admitted, narrowing her eyes in mock-suspicion. "And you've yet to share the secret of how, no matter how much I've been bugging you."

Anna swallowed thickly, suddenly looking quite nervous. "Soon," she managed. "I promise."

The two ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, before Anna's curiosity all but forced her to approach a topic every other part of her desperately feared she'd regret. "So, did you give up your search?"

"Yeah," Elena said with a shuddering breath, not trusting herself to speak for several long moments. Her mind would occasionally slide to a different timeline – one that existed pre-accident – where her parents were alive, and she was allowed to be joyful and adventurous and carefree. But then she'd suddenly remember, and the weight of it all would crush her anew. "I have to let that part of me go. It's what my," she swallowed, trying to force herself to continue, "my family –"

"You have more family than you think," Anna reassured, squeezing her hand, before gathering her into an embrace. "And those qualities had nothing to do with it."

Elena just nodded, allowing herself to be held, though not quite ready to believe Anna's words yet.

Chapter 6: Welcome to Doctor Kaw-Kaw's Sing-Along Blog

Chapter Text

Late March 2009

Elena just finished assembling all the snacks and books for their study session. Anna finally agreed to come over and help her with History. She just seemed like such a natural ace, and Elena was hardly above average in that particular subject, if she had to be perfectly honest with herself. While Biology and English came relatively easy to her, and all four of the girls in their group were outright aces in Mathematics, History required a little extra work.

Though a part of her genuinely wondered if a lot of this had to do with Mr. Tanner's particularly vitriolic attitude. He seemed a classic bully - eager to not only dismiss his students' collective desire to learn, but their very sense of confidence, as well. At first, his precious football team was safe, but now it seemed that ridiculing the others wasn't enough. Even Matt felt the brunt of his harassment yesterday.

If only she knew enough about the subject to actually defend her friends. She didn't, but Anna did - and after her exemplary display of shutting Tanner down, Elena was fairly confident she'd found her teacher.

But Anna was so standoffish at times. It was so odd; at first, the transfer student seemed almost eager to join their group, but any time the conversation turned serious or hit a vulnerable topic - any time it felt like the girls would strengthen their bond - she unexpectedly pulled back and would practically disappear for days.

As it was, Elena was shocked Anna finally agreed to come over and tutor her. So, when the doorbell rang, she jumped out of her seat and practically ran downstairs, almost out of breath when she opened the door.

Anna greeted her with a knowing smirk. "Heart skipping a beat with anticipation to learn about dinosaurs willfully misinterpreting human rights, or are you just that eager to see me?"

"Can't it be both?" Elena grinned, her expression somewhat faltering when she saw that Anna made no move to actually come inside her house, leading her to furrow her brow in confusion. "Did you want to study outside?"

"I'd rather not," Anna shrugged. "I forgot to SPF today, and I'm afraid Caroline might kill me in my sleep for the transgression."

Elena laughed and affected a wry expression of her own. "Waiting for an invitation?"

If only you knew, Anna thought inwardly. "What can I say? I'm a lady of impeccable manners."

"Well, then!" Elena spun about and curtsied in an exaggerated display of courtly elegance, gesturing Anna inside. "I bid you welcome to my humble abode!"

There was an almost imperceptible change in the look on Anna's face as she stepped inside, gazing about the place with an expression akin to wonder. So, this was the Gilbert house. She could have scored an invitation ages ago, but her honestly harrowing experience with Elena's ancestor kept her still. These were proprietors of the Gilbert journals. What if they knew who she was?

Of course, the rational part of Anna dismissed this notion. Even if she was blatantly mentioned, these were clearly people who didn't take the matter seriously. Why else wouldn't they ensure that their children at least wear vervain, if not drink it? As she got closer to the girls, Anna grudgingly gave them vervain 'friendship bracelets,' which they were only too happy to accept, completely unaware of their true significance.

When did these relationships become so authentic that she saw them as people to protect rather than use?

"I have everything ready for a perfect study date!" Elena beamed as she led Anna upstairs to her room. "All your favorite snacks - I have string cheese, and Oreos, and those weird old lady strawberry hard candies you like so much," Elena added with a wrinkle in her nose. "Were you really close with your grandma or something?"

"Or something," Anna breathed absently, unable to keep her head from its swivel, half expecting a rogue vampire hunter to jump out at her. Finally, she forced herself to snap out of it. It didn't look like anyone else was home, anyway – maybe she'd even get to leave before the folks came home, after a good snoop, of course. Anna looked around Elena's room with a fond expression that she schooled under a smirk. "So many stuffed animals."

"Hey! Leave Gummi alone," Elena cried mock-defensively, scooping up her beloved bear protectively in her arms. "He's very sensitive."

"Gummi?" Anna grinned. "Like the fruit snack? Or the cartoon?"

"I was five, Anna!" Elena shot back in playful exasperation, leaning back on her bed to study her ceiling, littered with glow-in-the-dark stars. "This bear has seen things – experienced all the elations and ennui of a long life. Leave him be."

"Poetic," Anna snarked, before taking out her notebook and grabbing Elena's textbook.

A few hours later, all the snacks had been eaten, and Miranda Gilbert popped her head in to say hello.

"Hi girls! Studying hard?" asked a friendly woman in her early fifties. Elena told Anna that her parents couldn't conceive for a while, so having her and Jeremy follow in such quick succession was almost a miracle. There was an intelligent twinkle in her dark eyes as she studied Anna, who immediately stiffened. Did she know? "And this must be Anna! Hi, honey. I'm Miranda – Elena's mom," she greeted warmly, stepping into the room and taking a seat next to the girls on the bed. "Elena tells me you're quite the History wiz kid."

Anna's eyes immediately widened, as she fought to keep the very obvious anxiety off her face. "Hello, Mrs. Gilbert," she said shyly, deciding to instead channel all her wayward nerves into coy politeness. Maybe if she just appeared socially awkward? "Elena exaggerates. I just study a lot," she said with a nervous giggle, trying to downplay the compliment, in case a member of a notorious vampire hunter family made the connection between knowing history remarkably well and having an unnaturally long life.

But the woman just smiled warmly, squeezing Anna's shoulder affectionately. "School's very important. Elena could learn a thing or two from you," she said, before turning to Elena. "Getting on the honor roll in high school without studying properly may not be that hard for you, young lady – but you try that in college. It won't fly. You need to take Anna here as an example learn those skills now."

"Yes, mom," Elena said with an affectionate roll of her eyes, clearly having heard this speech at least a dozen times and no closer to actually implementing it.

"Teenagers," Miranda shook her head with a smile. "Like talking to a brick wall. It was nice to meet you, Anna!" she called on her way out.

"Okay, what was that?" Elena suddenly exclaimed as she rolled onto her stomach and propped herself up with her elbows, every micro and macro expression on her face just oozing with giddy curiosity. "Yes, Mrs. Gilbert; of course, Mrs. Gilbert," Elena mocked, mimicking Anna's nervous giggle, then recovered with a grin. "That was not the Anna I know!"

"Parents make me nervous!" Anna blanched, unable to think of a cleverer response, still in the throes of her anxiety.

Elena's face immediately dropped. "Oh no, I'm so sorry – I didn't think, I –"

"It's not because of that," Anna hastened to stop her before she started a self-recriminating mini-spiral that would totally ruin the mood. "I just don't like authority figures."

"Yeah, but you usually antagonize them," Elena smirked, fondly remembering last week's emotionally satisfying shut-down of that horrible jackass, Mr. Tanner. She narrowed her eyes in scrutiny. "This was decidedly different."

Anna just shrugged. "Depends on my mood, I guess," she said, unwilling to elaborate further. Not yet anyway.

The hours seemed to roll by, and by the end of the study session during which the girls took entirely too many breaks, they ended up lying on a blanket in the backyard, and staring up at the actual night sky, as opposed to the photoluminescent parody of it on Elena's bedroom ceiling.

"Why do you think Tanner is so mean?" Elena asked, grabbing one of Anna's beloved 'granny candies' from the jar they smuggled outside.

"Because he's a tragically sad man who peaked in high school?" Anna retorted with a careless shrug. "And now he's taking his own inadequacies out on his students, who'll realize just how pathetic he is in a few years."

"And yet, you already know, oh wise one," Elena grinned.

"What can I say? I'm ahead of my time – a prodigy – or a 'wiz kid,' as your mom said," Anna replied with exaggerated importance, only to receive a pillow to the face from Elena as they both erupted in giggles.

September 2009

The therapist Elena had only managed to see for two weeks before quitting strongly recommended that she write down all her thoughts and lingering emotions, so she'd taken her journaling hobby in an entirely different direction. Her mom did give her the notebook to write in, after all – though she probably imagined something a bit more grand than the sad ramblings of a girl who felt completely hollow on the inside.

After the accident, what little was left of Elena's ambiversion hid deep inside, leaving her to seek out her own company most days. At least this way, she wouldn't have to fake it. Here, in the cemetery, she felt almost close to them – like their spirits could almost touch her, feel her, soothe her. She was alone and free from expectant and judgmental eyes who would at once scorn her for not crying enough at the funeral because she had been a shell of a human being at that point – too shocked, too numb to properly process emotion; and be aghast that she still hasn't bounced back some three months later.

She's too emotionless. She's too emotional. She smiles too little. She smiles too much. She's crying again. Why isn't she crying?

School was brutal today. She was so tired of playing pretend – wearing fake smiles that barely passed for authentic while feigning a scarcely held together facade of being okay.

It was all so exhausting. Constantly on display.

But here, she was alone. She could just be.

And she felt like they were with her. And maybe, with time, they'd even forgive her – for sneaking out that night, calling them, effectively killing them.

She turned to a new page in her diary, telling herself that her smiles would finally be real, when a corvid sat on her parents' grave and proceeded to call her attention.

"Okay," she replied flippantly to the very theatrical avian. "Hi, bird," she said offhandedly, unsure why it insisted on being so loud and dramatic, when a trail of fog suddenly wrapped all around her, as well. "That's not creepy at all," she mumbled to herself.

As the bird continued its cacophonous song, Elena's eyes widened in recognition, and she released an involuntary gasp.

"Doctor Kaw-Kaw?" Elena suddenly breathed, recalling a conversation with Anna a week prior.

"Oh, and Damon has this domesticated crow or raven or whatever. I think that follows him around, so if you see it, just text me or something. It means he's wandered off again," Anna mentioned at her best attempt to sound off-handed.

"Really?" Elena asked excitedly. "What an unusual pet. Does it have a name?"

Anna paused, a smirk ascending her face of its own volition. "Let me see if I remember," she said, trying to think of a suitably embarrassing name, an obnoxious grin manifesting as soon as she found the perfect one. "Doctor Kaw-Kaw."

"Like, the sound a corvid makes?" Elena asked entirely too charitably for Anna's liking.

"Yep. It also doubles as a poop joke. Damon thought it would be just the best wordplay."

"Ooh, like Mozart! He used to do stuff like that, too!" Elena beamed.

"Yeah, Damon's a regular Amadeus," Anna deadpanned, but inside, she was face-palming hard.

"Well, he was a child prodigy – so maybe this means that Damon's brain is healing. Maybe he'll even start to remember soon," Elena said hopefully.

"I don't think Mozart's scatological humor is the cause of his genius, Elena, no matter how optimistic you want to be about Damon's recovery," Anna snarked.

"Damon! Are you around?" Elena looked around frantically, grabbing her phone to send Anna a quick text per her instructions. Damon must have wandered off again, poor guy. When she finally found a figure standing in a field of fog much like that which surrounded her, she immediately headed in that direction. Her entire body was tense as she approached him; for all she knew, it could have been a serial killer. Anna told her that the town had a history of covering up so-called 'animal attacks.' But if Damon was truly in trouble, then she had to take the chance – for a sweet and innocent 12-year-old to wander in the cemetery, especially with a killer on the loose could prove to be incredibly dangerous. As such, her entire body sagged in relief when she saw that it was him. "Damon," she breathed, with clear affection both in her voice and facial expression, her eyes softening considerably as she took one of his hands in both of hers. "What are you doing here, all by yourself? Did you wander off again, you naughty little trouble-maker?" she teased him, resisting the urge to ruffle his hair in an effort to make him more comfortable, as she felt her heart breaking for him. She just couldn't believe that he lost all memories after the age of 12. His gaze certainly didn't seem childlike, she thought, watching him carefully. Maybe he was on the verge of making a recovery from his retrograde amnesia? She could only hope.

Damon just looked at her, clearly bewildered by her odd behavior as his lips curved into the beginnings of a smirk seemingly of their own volition. "What?" He immediately realized that something was amiss, but what? Clearly Anna thought she was being clever.

"Don't worry. Anna and I will help you find your mom, I promise," she soothed, squeezing his hand and bringing it closer to her heart, then let her smile widen as her tone affected an elevated lilt, as though she were talking to a particularly precocious child. "You're lucky you have Doctor Kaw-Kaw over there to watch out for you," she said playfully, gesturing to his familiar with her head, without taking her eyes off Damon. "It's the only way I knew to look for you."

"Doctor …Kaw-Kaw?" Damon repeated with a shake of his head and a sardonic laugh that he couldn't quite contain. He had to give Anna credit – she certainly put in the effort. Maybe there was a way he could use this to his advantage. Elena clearly thought he was the peak of harmlessness, and even seemed a touch protective over him. It was adorable, really – and potentially very useful.

"He's such a good corvid, isn't he?" Elena said with a sweet smile directed at the bird.

"How do you know it isn't a she? Women can be doctors, too, you know. You shouldn't be so sexist, Elena" Damon mock-chided, still trying to work out precisely what was happening here.

Forgetting for a second about Damon's alleged condition, Elena began her own sardonic retort – only to suddenly recall the amnesia. Her eyes widened – she certainly wouldn't want to be responsible for placing notions of gender inequality in his mind. "If course, you're right, Damon!" she quickly recovered. "Such a smart boy. In fact!" she said excitedly. "Really clever double-entendre there, Damon," Elena winked. "Mozart used to love making jokes like that, too. Do you know who he is?" Before Damon could answer, Elena's phone buzzed with a text message, alerting her that Anna was on her way. "Anna's coming here with your mom, thank goodness," she sighed in visible relief as soon as she read the text. "Don't worry! I'll wait here with you."

"That'sverysweet, Elena," Damon smirked, doing his absolute best to keep a straight face, his eyes sparking with amused curiosity, then his pupils seemed to almost expand and contract in the most peculiar way. "What exactly did Anna tell you about me?"

She recalled this curious ocular behavior from the night they met, but she didn't think much of it then. Now, in light of the information Anna told her, Elena was sincerely worried. There was something so strange happening with his eyes. On no! Was he getting worse? She thought quickly – she had to comfort him somehow. Stress surely couldn't be healthy in his condition. She bit her lip nervously, trying to sound as sincere as possible. "Just that you were the sweetest, smartest, bravest boy," she said emphatically, "and that it's really important to make sure you aren't scared, or stressed," she added with considerable concern.

In fact, the concern was so elevated that it made Damon justifiably curious, and a quick glance to what looked like a friendship bracelet on Elena's wrist confirmed his suspicions. At least Anna wasn't a total idiot, he shrugged internally. Oh well. Relying on compulsion exclusively was for rubes and amateurs, anyway, Damon thought with a smirk – and he always did enjoy a challenge. A quick mental replay of his last interaction with Anna was in order to find the right clue. Let's see – gonorrhea medicine, bed-wetting, 12-year-old sister.

That had to be it.

Elena was talking to him like he was a child. Leave it to Anna to concoct an unauthorized parody of an idea clearly inspired by his sardonic brilliance. Time to test the theory.

"Did she now?" Damon inquired with only the slightest bit of sarcasm that was immediately overshadowed by amusem*nt. "Can you give Anna a message for me?"

"She'll be here soon – you can tell her yourself," she assured, then paused, trying to make a decision and finally going for it. Her voice dropped, suddenly becoming quite serious. "That video you watched – 'How to Score Hot Older Chicks' – you don't by chance remember the name of the creator, do you?" she asked with unabashed hope.

"Video?"

"You know," Elena ploughed ahead despite her shyness on the matter. "The one where you got your speech," she prodded, swallowing thickly, quite nervous at broaching the topic. When he simply shook his head, eyes still dancing with laughter, she had no choice to elaborate. She took a deep, shuddering breath, and hoped that she wouldn't embarrass herself with how obviously enamored she was with a string of words apparently directed at tweens. "You want a love that consumes you – you want passion, and adventure, and even a little danger," she said, proud that her voice shook only a little.

Now he really did laugh, and Elena was a little affronted, if she had to be perfectly honest. Was she really that pathetic, to feel such an overwhelming connection to what was apparently a glorified pick-up line? But it didn't feel like one – it felt so sincere. She sighed miserably. It wasn't Damon's fault. Maybe she was just an idiot.

Damon wasn't sure why, but something about her sadness tugged at his heartstrings, and he didn't like it. While this was an avenue that he was nowhere near ready to explore, he could agree with himself that he should at least distract her. "I'll tell you if you take me to the Lockwood mansion," Damon replied cheekily.

"I would," she replied regretfully, "but they're not home tonight. Tyler said his parents took the whole football team out – it's an early season ritual to 'ensure a good season' – not that it ever works," she added with a smirk of her own. "Maybe your mom could take you tomorrow."

"Pity," Damon replied, having his hopes of procuring the crystal tonight dashed. No matter. There was plenty of time – especially with the Founders' Ball coming up. "In that case, tell Anna that I have message for her," he said with his own upward infection, affecting a similar tone to her. "Okay?"

"Sure," Elena nodded, wondering what was taking Anna so long – and hoping she would arrive before Damon's apparently scary Karen mom, if Anna's tales were to be believed.

"Tell her," he said, taking a few moments to think as he let his azure eyes gravitate toward the sky in contemplation as the Sun's rays accentuated their vividness, eliciting a gasp from Elena and just the barest hint of a smug smirk from Damon. "One, one, two, three, five, eight…"

"The Fibonacci sequence?" Elena interrupted, brows furrowed in puzzlement. Why not just name it? Ooh, right. He must not remember the name. Maybe he was a precocious child and discovered it on his own at 12?

"Elena," he shook his head mockingly. "I said – one, one, two, three, five, eight. Repeat those numbers after me."

"One, one, two, three, five, eight," Elena repeated patiently.

"That's the Fibonacci sequence," Damon said importantly, enjoying the slight irritation she was desperate to hide. "You got it? Girls are really bad at math, so I'll say it again if you need me to," he resisted the urge to smirk, knowing that was bound to get a rise out of her, especially after he accused her of sexism earlier.

"Yes, I got it," Elena replied with a sigh, reminding herself that this poor guy had amnesia, and she had no right to get so upset with him for being a mansplaining, condescending jackass.

"Are you sure? Do you need me to tell you again?" he asked obnoxiously.

"I said I got it – I'm not a twelve-year-old, Damon!" Elena exclaimed, clearly frustrated, then suddenly gasped, her hands covering her mouth in horror of their own accord. "Oh my God, I am so sorry –"

He just smiled. Bingo. So that was Anna's game. "I'll get over it, somehow," he said with his best attempt to sound morose, then visibly brightened when her own expression kept falling further and further into guilt, just to cheer her up. What was wrong with him? "I'm just kidding. You've actually been super-helpful. Really. Forget the last message, and just tell Anna: I don't get mad. I get even," he purred with a wink, preparing to walk away just as Anna finally entered the scene.

"Damon! So glad I managed to find you before you let yourself get in taken in by stranger-danger like last time. Remember, don't take bright and colorful little pills from bad big kids in the park!" Anna chirped.

"Anna," he retorted with a sarcastic smile. "Your advice is as sound as your presence is welcome," he added, strongly implying that neither were true.

"You should get out of here," Anna said, pulling Elena aside. "I'm fairly certain Doctor Kaw-Kaw has rabies," she quietly added in a tone that seemed a little too amused to Elena not to be a jibe. "I called Damon's mom, and she'll be here to pick him up soon. I don't suggest being around when she comes."

"What about you?" Elena asked, big brown doe eyes widening in worry. Damon continued to be fascinated by all the distinctly un-Katherine facial expressions and overall demeanor.

"I'm an old family friend," Anna replied, waving her concern away. "She trusts me. You, on the other hand…" she trailed off meaningfully, shaking her head as she channeled all the fear she could into her eyes.

"Okay," Elena nodded. "It was lovely seeing you again, Damon," she said, turning to walk away before he grabbed her hand, placing a delicate kiss on her knuckles that flooded Elena's entire countenance with a curious emotion that she couldn't quite name - refused to - stubbornly reminding herself of Damon's injury and that he probably saw this in a movie he wanted to imitate. Maybe his scary mom showed him Titanic, and he just found Jack particularly inspiring, she tried to convince herself.

And yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right here, and that perhaps Anna wasn't telling her everything. There was certainly more to this matter, and she was determined to find out precisely what.

"Great seeing you, too, Elena" Damon responded, oozing charm and not sounding like a 12-year-old at all.

Elena just nodded and practically ran out of the cemetery, doing all she could to calm her beating heart and hope that Damon's amnesia healed soon. It certainly appeared like he was well on his way to recovery. Maybe that hand-kissing move wasn't from Titanic, after all, and came from the video, as well?

Once Elena was out of earshot, Damon leveled Anna with a positively sardonic smirk. "Wow, Anna. Have you become so mired in the land of cliches in your old age that you have to steal from little 'baby vamp' me? What did you tell her? ThatI'mtwelve?" he raised both eyebrows pointedly, a trace of needling about their previous meeting.

"I just thought it was more fitting – and that you were projecting," Anna shrugged nonchalantly. "Retrograde amnesia," she elaborated.

"Not bad," Damon admitted with an appraising nod. "Definitely more effective than 'stay away from him – he's a dangerous bad boy who'll steal your precious virtue," he mock-scolded with a wag of his finger, before affecting a decidedly smug grin, "with his dashingly roguish and charming ways."

"If only it worked. Turns out Elena might actually be into idiots," she smirked.

"Well, then you'd better get her away from baby bro – because I think she just ran into him," Damon replied, his eyes narrowing as he struggled to listen to their conversation.

Anna's response was uproarious laughter. "Eeyore's mopier cousin? Yeah, right. I think she's safe."

"No, you really should go get her away. She's bleeding," he told her seriously, looking almost worried.

"Yeah, probably a scraped knee," Anna replied with her eyeroll. Damon had to be out of his mind if he thought he could distract her with that.

He was quiet for several moments and Anna could have sworn that the concern was genuine. "He's a ripper, Anna. Get her away," he said quietly, then seemingly caught himself and immediately recovered with a carefree shrug and smirk. "Or don't. Maybe draining Katherine's human double will be just the kick Stef needs to finally beat 'paint drying' in their never-ending contest of 'who's more interesting!' He's been losing for the past century or so, but never let it be said that I give up on my brother," he leaned in to alert Anna in a stage whisper.

"sh*t!" Anna exclaimed, already on her way to apparently rescue her friend, before calling over her shoulder. "This isn't over, Damon. You're not getting that crystal without me."

Chapter 7: And the Truth Shall Lead to Even Weirder Questions

Chapter Text

September 2009

For the next two days, Elena couldn't help but wonder about the weird turn of events. Damon certainly wasn't acting like Anna described – in fact, he seemed almost amused by the situation. He definitely didn't behave like he'd lost all memories after his 'tween years. It actually felt like he was playing with her, and riling Anna up in the process.

Every instinct within her was telling her that something wasn't quite right. Damon and Anna almost appeared to have a shared secret, dancing around coded language that felt more like sardonic cracks than genuine concern. She would even say that the connection felt ancient. Maybe Anna knew Damon and Stefan from her previous school? Did they all live in the same city or town?

Her interaction with Stefan just outside the cemetery was beyond weird, too. While she could admit to herself that he was attractive enough, there was a certain intensity with which he studied her that almost seemed invasive – like he found every miniscule fraction of her absolutely fascinating – and longed to put her under a microscope from which she could never hope to escape. An idle part of her wondered if she would have been charmed by it if Anna hadn't been around to pull her out of the worst of her post-accident depression; if she would have clung to the notion – that anyone could have shown that level of interest to her, a girl who fervently believed that she didn't deserve to live – like a lifeline.

Like she would have used that level of attention as validation that perhaps she still had a place on this Earth, after all.

She knew the impact of vulnerability, and though she could soberly admit that the experience left her deeply wounded, she was not quite as raw and bleeding as she had been months ago, when she was just a ghost in corporeal form, wandering through a town that seemed unchanged in the wake of her personal tragedy.

And so, instead, she just found Stefan Salvatore a bit odd and just skirting creepy – but not in any kind of alarming way, and maybe he had stress of his own in his worry about Damon's devastating injury. She meant to question him if there was a relation when she scraped her knee, and he all but ran away, but not before Anna showed up to snark him into submission. At least her question about Stefan being Damon's brother was answered.

She sure seemed to have history with that family – which Elena found absolutely fascinating, and definitely intended to explore.

What's worse was that her journal was missing. She retraced her steps back to the cemetery the day before, but she couldn't find it anywhere, which she was horrified to realize that meant someone must have picked it up.

She only hoped that it was Anna, because if it was Stefan, she'd be absolutely mortified, especially if he happened to read the passages where she fervently wished the man she now realized was his brother would get his memories back. She groaned into the palms of her hands, stifling the sound. Of all the people to have found documented access to her innermost thoughts, it just had to be the guy who was apparently Damon's younger brother and her classmate.

One who hadn't been to school since the two of them ran into each other and he ran off quite oddly after she unveiled her leg injury while inspecting it. Maybe blood made him queasy? She'd have to be more careful with him going forward. He seemed such a delicate sort.

To top it off, it appeared that Caroline's crush on him seemed unrequited, if her constant complaints were to be believed. Nevertheless, she was determined. Maybe Caroline's dogged attempts to ensnare Stefan Salvatore would work out in her favor, Elena thought. By now, the relentless head cheerleader had to have worked out where he lived – which would mean that perhaps Caroline would share the information so that Elena could stop by to perhaps ask him if he had her journal?

Which he hopefully hadn't read, Elena prayed with an inward groan that made up for its silence with sheer emotional intensity.

She groaned again, falling onto her bed in dramatic woe with the realization that the chances of that were slim to none. He was a teenage boy –of coursehe read her journal.

Maybe relaxing at the Grill really was what she needed – so when Anna suggested a quick game of pool after school, she was entirely too eager to agree.

She'd hardly had a moment to put her backpack down in the seat of the booth the girls regularly claimed as their favorite when her gaze shifted seemingly of its own volition to find Caroline flirting with Damon. Her heart constricted instantly before Elena remembered to admonish herself. Caroline had no idea what she was doing – if Anna were to be believed, and Elena was certainly starting to have her doubts – so feeling jealous wasn't entirely appropriate. Sadly, emotions were willful creatures and paid little heed to silly human notions like matters of propriety.

Emotions did what they wanted when they wanted, and left behavior – which was actually under the control of its humanoid vessel – to clean up the mess.

Elena took a seat at the booth, wondering if she should interrupt them. Caroline probably wouldn't appreciate wasting her flirtatious energy on a man who believed himself to be a 12-year-old boy, thanks to a particularly devastating brain injury resulting in retrograde amnesia, Elena nodded inwardly in an attempt at being sage, though she'd be remiss if she didn't admit she had an ulterior motive – one she wasn't quite willing to explore yet – that hinged on Damon quite suddenly getting better, or at least revealing the source of his romantic speech to her.

And what if she accidentally said something to take advantage? Elena knew Caroline would never forgive herself. Oh no! And what if Damon's mom showed up? From what Anna said, she was exactly the type of woman who would actively try to ruin someone's life just for speaking to her son. With Caroline's Ivy League and Miss Mystic Falls dreams on the line, she knew she had to save her friend from a potential scandal. Anna told her that Damon's mom would twist the situation to make it look like she was deliberately seeking to take advantage of her son's vulnerable state for her own nefarious means.

Gathering her resolve, Elena took a deep breath, pasted a friendly smile on her face, and slowly made her way over to their table.

"—Lockwood mansion," was all Elena heard Damon say to Caroline before he suddenly turned to look at her and shot her a flirtatious smile, much to Caroline's chagrin. "E-le-na," he greeted her with a wry musicality. "Can't seem to stay away, I see."

Elena blushed, feeling a particular flurry within her at the combination of his playfully sultry voice and this curious half-impishness, half-flirtation when his eyes did this enigmatic thing – this 'eye thing' – that left her feeling pleasantly flustered; both anxious and elated; and yet there was almost a curious rightness to it all.

Snapping out of it, she reminded herself – not for the first or fifth or perhaps hundredth time – that Damon was healing from a devastating brain injury and wasn't entirely himself. She shouldn't take his flirtation seriously. "It's great seeing you again, Damon," Elena greeted warmly, though cautiously.

"Always a pleasure, Elena," he replied with a marked wink, reaching for her hand to bestow a gentlemanly kiss, leaving Elena a veritable puddle on the floor of the Grill – a reaction he clearly noticed the last time they interacted, with a smug certainty. "What brings you here?"

"Yes, Elena," Caroline asked haughtily, and with steadily decreasing patience. "Why are you here?" Seriously, what was Elena's deal? Here Caroline was, flirting with the hottest guy this town had ever seen, and Elena just obnoxiously strolls in to ruin her fun? This wasn't like her – but Caroline had to admit that ever since Elena's parents died, she'd become almost a different person – no longer fun, curious, excitable. For those first few months, she was like a shell of a human being, haunting life like a ghost. That's even if she managed to leave her bed at all. She and Bonnie certainly hadn't had any success in luring anything resembling life out of her, but at least it seemed like Anna had some measure of it. This, though, was unusual.

Maybe O-blocking was part of Elena's 'blah' phase, Caroline thought derisively. Wasn't it enough that Matt still followed her around like a lost puppy, and now that new hottie in school seemed fascinated by her? Now Elena needed this ensnare this sizzling blue-eyed trouble incarnate sex-on-legs, too? Wow, that was a lot of adjectives, Caroline thought, troubled. She'd have to work on that before it came time for her SAT prep. It was Ivy or bust.

"Anna and I agreed to meet here for a game of pool – then I heard you guys talking, so I thought I'd come over and say hi," Elena replied with false cheerfulness, feeling a bit guilty for riling Caroline's insecurities, but knowing her friend would thank her once she learned the truth.

"Sorry to inform, but it appears you've been stood up," Damon replied with a playfully casual shrug and the most insincere attempt at sounding apologetic that Elena had ever heard, then his eyes widened in comic epiphany, as though he just thought of a brilliant idea. "Hey, Caroline and I were just going to take a little stroll over to the Lockwood mansion," Damon said, with a quick glance to his other interlocutor, then turned his smoldering gaze back to Elena with an air of confidence that gave her the distinct impression that he knew exactly what he was doing. "We'd love for you to join us."

"Would we?" Caroline asked, her tone thick with sarcasm.

"Elena seems to think I need adult supervision, lest I get myself into trouble again," Damon retorted, his eyes widening in mock-innocence as his he drew his hand to his heart in a show of what was clearly not sincerity.

"I didn't mean by me," Elena ground out.

"No? But I really want it to be you," he smirked, sending another sexy wink in Elena's direction, suddenly losing any badly feigned attempts at innocence. "You don't want me to get hurt again, do you?" he asked with a pout of his lips and a judgy shake of his head, then recovered with a grin that looked far too smug and in control to verify any of Anna's claims, leading Elena to once again wonder if her best friend was being entirely honest with her. "Unless you're into that," he leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper, a satisfied gleam in his eye when Elena swallowed thickly, feeling heated pinpricks on her skin that she refused to analyze. Perhaps out of mercy, but more likely outright amusem*nt, Damon pulled back with a laugh. "I don't judge, Elena. Your kinks are your own business and I respect your agency as a woman."

When Elena finally allowed herself to breathe again, each inhale and exhale coming out in ragged bursts, her jaw dropped of its own accord as she struggled to make any sound aside from shocked noises, which only seemed to widen Damon's already noticeably Cheshire cat grin. She noticed the mirth dancing in his eyes with an expression akin to bewilderment and indignation. Was he laughing at her? That jackass.

"Okay, what the hell is going on here?" Caroline demanded, frankly offended at having yet another guy shift the entirety of his attention away from her and onto Elena. Did she suddenly become Helen of Troy? First new-hottie Stefan, now sexiness-personified Damon. What did Elena do? Spray herself with pheromones?

With an impatient roll of his eyes, Damon turned his attention to Caroline. "Elena and I are trying to have a conversation. Why don't you go make yourself useful and grab a few drinks from Hallmark Chic over there," Damon said, gesturing with his head to Matt Donovan, who had recently started a job as a busboy at the Grill.

His gaze intensified as he went on, and Elena noted with some trepidation that his pupils were doing that strange thing again when he looked at Caroline. Elena's heart constricted again, this time with empathy for the poor soul. This was bad. This had to have been a manifestation of his injury again. Before Caroline had a chance to reply and tell Damon exactly what she thought of his suggestion, Elena quickly grabbed her hand and all but forced her out of the booth, dragging her vocally displeased form outside to tell her about Damon's condition before she inadvertently did something to worsen it.

"What is your problem, Elena!?" Caroline yelled once that finally stopped right outside of the Grill, having more than enough of the seasonal drama. Summer was over, school began, and it was time for Elena to at leasttryto act normal again, thank you very much. "I finally get a chance to score a sexy newcomer, and you have to come along and ruin it!"

"Teenage drama! My favorite attack against my remaining brain cells," Anna quipped, seemingly materializing out of nowhere. "What are we fighting about, ladies?"

"Elena interrupted my date!" Caroline huffed petulantly, looking to Anna for support.

"It was with Damon," Elena winced, looking at Anna meaningfully. "I think we need to tell her."

Anna, who looked to Elena to be a little too overjoyed at the prospect of discussing Damon's condition, started explaining about the accident that allegedly took place in April, rendering all of his memories gone past the age of 12.

"Oh my God!" Caroline gasped in horror. "Poor Damon! We have to help him! He's way too hot to keep thinking he's twelve!"

"The most important thing is to keep him calm, Caroline," Anna said sagely. "He was a really big fan of stage magic and hypnotism as a tween, so you might occasionally gaze at you really intensely, trying to make you do something –"

"He did that today!" Caroline exclaimed. "He tried to make me get drinks for him and Elena."

"You mean that strange thing with his pupils is done on purpose?" Elena asked pensively. "I thought it was a symptom of his injury."

Anna shook her head, trying very hard to look sympathetic while fighting with every bit of her strength not to laugh at compulsion being mistaken for brain trauma. "It is! It's something that happens when he concentrates really hard," Anna tutted, barely stifling a snicker. This was just way too good. "If he ever does that again, just go along with it, and walk out of the room. Turn on something that creates white noise – a faucet, blender – anything. Those sounds soothe him," Anna explained. "Then send me a quick text and drop a pin with your location – and I'll come by with his mom to pick him up, okay?"

"His mom?" Caroline asked dubiously.

"She's a bigger Karen than Carol Lockwood, apparently," Elena said sympathetically, wincing at the implications. They'd all been horrified at the downright abysmal way the Mayor's wife treated the household staff – as though they were inhuman and completely immune to verbal abuse. Once, they saw her yelling at a poor, henpecked woman for not greeting her with a smile, completely unsympathetic to her employee's downright terror.

Mrs. Lockwood took 'entitled customer' to scary and unforeseen levels - or, in her case, 'entitled employer.'

"So?" Caroline scoffed, rolling her eyes. "What's she going to do? Complain to my manager? I don't work for her."

"No, but you are trying to get into the Ivies," Anna said sympathetically. "And she'll make it her business to have you kicked off of any committees that you've worked so hard to build. And forget about Miss Mystic Falls. All it's going to take is one word from Mrs. Salvatore that you've been taking advantage of her sweet angel, and your career aspirations are over."

"Mrs. Salvatore? As in Founding Family?" Caroline asked in abject terror. "But – but I'm a Founding Family member, too."

"It doesn't matter," Anna insisted. "She's wrecked lives before in my hometown. She'll do it here, too. I don't want that to happen to you, Care," she said, squeezing the blonde's hand affectionately.

"Okay," Caroline nodded with a sniffle. "Thanks, guys. I'm sorry I snapped at you before, Elena. You were just trying to protect me," she said, giving the two of them a hug.

"Yeah, of course, Care," Elena said, her suspicions rising to near-insurmountable levels throughout the course of Anna's explanation. White noise healing amnesia? She'd taken an interest in medicine back when her father was alive, and he'd never mentioned anything like that. Although Elena wasn't so arrogant as to believe that she knew everything about the field from her slight forays, the combination of the evidence she saw was more than enough to rouse her suspicions.

"So, what did Damon want from you anyway?" Anna asked Caroline.

"He wanted me to take him to the Lockwood Mansion. Why is he so obsessed with that place?" Caroline queried.

"What!?" Anna gasped in alarm, then visibly calmed herself down. "Listen, girls, I need to go speak to Damon for a bit. Make sure that he didn't tire himself out too much, okay?" she asked with audible strain to her voice, pulling back from the embrace. "I'll see you two later."

"Do you think you can come over and tutor me in History tonight, Anna?" Elena asked, unsuccessfully hiding the double entendre in her tone. "I'd love to pick your brain aboutallyour experience with it."

Anna looked at her for a long moment, then finally nodded. "Yeah, I'll be there."

"Anna! I see you've taken to stalking me. Normally I'd prefer someone a bit more mature," he said, pantomiming womanly curves on himself, deliberately to elicit an annoyed eye-roll from Anna, "fewer mommy issues, less inclined to copy my admittedly impeccable quips," Damon sardonically greeted with faux enthusiasm as she took as seat across from him.

"I thought we agreed that we were opening the tomb – and therefore getting the crystal – together," Anna said flatly, really not in the mood for Damon's teasing.

"Look, cards flat on the table? I don't trust you. I've got no reason to trust you, so there's nothing to keep me from believing that you'll double-cross me," Damon revealed, his voice still laced with a wry musicality.

"And why would I do that?"

"I don't know. Why would you go to high school again? You and baby bro both seem to have a hard-on for mind-numbing, indoctrinating institutions. Or do you just miss eighteen sixty-four so much that you needed to find the only History teacher in all of Virginia openly presenting the Confederate flag on his desk without also donning a Klan hood? Maybe your willing choice of company just fills me with bad memories, and I need to find my safe space away from you and your History-revision teacher" he shrugged with a smirk that didn't make him look traumatized in the slightest, and Anna just narrowed her eyes at his obvious attempt to get a rise out of her, refusing the take the bait. "Oh hey! The Lockwood mansion seems pretty safe. Something tells me that the Mayor wouldn't willingly associate with a guy who – no scratch that – actually probably does have a Klan hood stashed somewhere. Bad PR and all that."

"Yes, Tanner is a racist and a douche. Wow, your powers of observation really impress, Damon," Anna deadpanned.

"You're clearly working an angle," he explained, "which is smart, given the way the bigots in this town think," he indulged, raising his hands in a mockery of surrender. "Which means that you're clever enough to try to fool me, too."

"Damon, did anyone ever tell you that paranoia is a symptom of an unhealthy psyche?" Anna leaned in with a smirk of her own. "But then again, so is waiting to rescue a backstabbing sociopath for nearly a century and a half, so your behavior definitely tracks."

"I don't trust you, Anna," Damon said seriously, all jocularity gone. "You've given me no reason to. Amusing as it was, your first move was to tell your Katherine look-alike bestie that I have amnesia? Does she even know what you are? How do you think she'll react to the news?" he asked, a subtle threat of exposure in the air.

"You know very well why I can't tell her," Anna ground out, refusing to acknowledge his insinuation.

"Are you even friends then?" Damon asked with a shrug that seemed a little too practiced to be completely casual. "What do you think will happen when she finds out? Unless you plan to skip out of town the second Mommy Dearest is free from her subterranean confinement?"

Anna took a deep breath to calm herself, Damon's words piercing considerably more insecurity than she was ready to admit. "We're getting the crystal together," she said, and walked out of the establishment without another word, her very soul vibrating with anxiety. This situation was unraveling a little too quickly for her liking.

Elena spent the better half of the last hour researching retrograde amnesia, so fully immersed in her endeavor that she hadn't heard Anna come in, and only acknowledged her presence once the girl not-so-subtly pushed a plate of Eggplant Rollatini onto her lap in what was clearly a bribe.

Despite every intention of interrogating her secretive friend, Elena couldn't resist the mouth-watering allure of the divinely smelling dish, doing all she could to appear stern for all of two seconds before haphazardly diving in. "Want some?" she offered, only after she realized she'd inhaled half of the plate's contents.

Anna shook her head, stifling a snicker.

"Where'd you get this? Oh my God," Elena queried with a stifled moan as she watched the melted cheese stretch with an expression akin to sweet surrender.

"I made it," Anna replied smugly, though there was a subtle air of trepidation in her voice.

Elena's eyes widened to hitherto unforeseen proportions as her mind suddenly explored all the possibilities. "Why didn't you tell me you could cook?"

"I can do a lot of things. I've been around for a while, Elena," Anna said mysteriously, though the playfulness in her voice was gone.

Elena felt a touch of déjà vu at her words, suddenly recalling a very similar claim from Damon on the night they met. Her heart sped up in anticipation, as her subconscious whispered that this may be the day she may finally get some answers. "Damon said something similar," she breathed, studying Anna for any change in micro-expression – or anything, really. Not quite knowing what she was looking for, Elena narrowed her eyes, determined to catch Anna in her lie. "How did you say Damon got his amnesia again?"

Anna took a deep breath, steadying herself. Inside, she was a trembling mess. This was it. This was the moment she could lose the one solid friendship she'd made in centuries – perhaps her whole life. But Damon was right. If it was built on this lie, did she even have a friend? And he all but threatened to expose her, anyway, so this was her opportunity to gain control of the narrative.

"He didn't," Anna said tonelessly, fighting to keep her voice even. "He –"

"I knew it!" Elena jumped up excitedly, now carried by a fierce current of momentum. "And what's going on with his pupils? I thought it was brain trauma, but I looked – and there's no known brain trauma that manifests this way," she continued, now pacing her room, growing increasingly excited. The truth is that this was the most alive she'd seen Elena since before the accident in May, and she would have been grateful for it if not for the potentially heartrending consequences if this conversation went poorly. "What's with you two? Where are you really from?" Elena asked, though she appeared to be speaking to herself, the pace of her words gradually increasing as her enthusiasm built, feeling herself on the verge of solving a great mystery – an epiphany. "Your ability to pick up cheers is borderline superhuman. Your hearing is just – wow! I get that impressing Caroline with gossip whispered from across the cafeteria is fun, but that's not human that's –" Elena's eyes widened as Anna braced herself. "You're superheroes!"

Anna choked a laugh at this unexpected direction. "What?"

"Don't lie to me, Anna!" Elena said excitedly, suddenly taking a seat on the bed next to her, sitting on one knee. "The crystal is something you need to save the world, right?"

"You've seen way too many movies," Anna laughed – genuinely uproarious, feeling all tension resolve.

"How did you develop your powers? Were you born with them? Did they mutate?" she asked in quick succession, then her eyes widened in horror, only to close in empathy. "Experiments?"

"No, I was never experimented on," Anna replied in amusem*nt, needing to put Elena out of her misery, before her empathy-driven brain imagines all sorts of horrible scenarios. Inwardly, she thought it best not to tell her about the rumors she heard about a certain secret society that experimented on vampires in the 1950s.

Feeling the tension leave her body in relief, Elena jumped up again as the flood of excitement returned. "Is Anna Zhu your real name? Do you have a secret identity?"

Anna watched Elena work herself into a frenzy, suddenly feeling a little more optimistic. How far removed was 'vampire' from 'superhero,' anyway? Plenty, she reasoned internally, since vampires took lives rather than saved them – but Anna was always a deft hand at putting an appetizing spin on a matter.

"One thing I don't understand is why did you lie to me about Damon?" Elena asked.

"Because he's dangerous, E," Anna groaned.

"What? Is he your arch-nemesis?" Elena mocked, affecting jazz hands for extra emphasis.

"Hey!" Anna scoffed. "I'm serious. And I lied because Damon really is dangerous, Elena," she explained in a tone that practically bordered on pleading. Noah had already made several allusions to Katherine being fascinated by Elena's existence, and in the moments when he seemingly forgot his fear of Anna made some rather disturbing comments about potentially bringing her friend to the backstabbing bitch on a silver latter to play with. Damon was in love with Katherine, too, wasn't it? What was to stop him from attempting the same? "What do you think would work on you better? Telling you that a guy you're attracted to is dangerous, or telling you that he thinks he's twelve and has a Karen mom?"

"So, that speech he gave me – it came from him?" Elena asked, her heart fluttering as she affected a dreamy expression.

"You're missing the point!" Anna growled.

"Am I? Because from where I'm standing all you've done is lie to me, Anna," Elena replied, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance, then softened, approaching her friend again to grasp her hands comfortingly. "You can trust me, okay?"

"I'm not a superhero, Elena," Anna said with a defeated sigh. "I'm a vampire."

The air hung heavy, fraught with tension with several long moments as Elena's expression subtly shifted to annoyance, and Anna found a pillow hitting her square in the face, followed by a giggle. "Right, and I'm a fairy."

Anna raised an eyebrow at the action, returning the offending projectile into Elena's face. "You believe 'superhero,' but not 'vampire'? Seriously?"

"Vampires don't exist, Anna," Elena retorted with an ostentatious roll of her eyes. "Everyone knows that."

"Fine – fine, I didn't want it to come to this, but…" she trailed off, practically feeling her heart shatter at the notion of this display going badly, as she allowed her features to morph into their vampiric form. Great, dark veins suddenly appeared on her face as her sclera were flooded with crimson. She opened her mouth to visibly allow her fangs to elongate, waiting for a scream that never came. Instead, she only heard a gasp, finally chancing to look at Elena. She expected terror, disgust, rejection. Instead, she found wonder, curiosity. "Why aren't you afraid?" she asked, allowing her features to return to normal.

"I kind of already guessed that you were more than human, remember?" Elena laughed nervously. "You wanted me to guess, didn't you?" she asked quietly. "That's why you showed off so much."

"Some would say I like the attention," Anna replied flippantly, hoping to settle the profound tension from the spiking adrenaline in her heart. "My mom certainly would," she said wistfully.

Elena bit her lip, sitting back down next to Anna to gather her in a comforting embrace. "I guess we're both orphans now, but at least we have each other," she said, leaning her head on Anna's shoulder. "We may not have parents, but we gained a sister. Your secret's safe with me, Anna."

Anna's entire form trembled as she felt the weight of the tension leave her – her greatest secret, accepted. Her arms wrapped themselves around Elena in turn as she allowed herself to cry in front of another person for the first time in decades, feeling seen, accepted, loved. She took a shaky breath, allowing it to leave her with just as much roughness. "About that …I came back to town – Damon and I both came back to town – to open a tomb. There was a witch –"

"Witches exist, too?" Elena interrupted excitedly.

"Elena, focus," Anna laughed, the quickly receding tension heightening the lilt in her tone. "There was a witch who saved the vampires rounded up to be burned in an old church, leaving them sealed in a tomb instead – one that can only be opened when the comet that was used to cast the original spell returns. Damon's here to save his lover –"

"Katherine," Elena interrupted morosely.

"Yeah," Anna said uncomfortably, choosing not to reveal the truth of Katherine's location, lest it get back to Damon before the tomb is actually open. "And I came to save…" she trailed off, taking a deep breath to steady herself, about to reveal another truth. "My mother."

Elena suddenly stiffened pulling back to look gaze at Anna with absolute shock.

"I know I lied about –" Anna began apologetically.

"Your mother's alive," Elena breathed in wonder, finally getting a hold of her emotions.

"Wow, you're really channeling Care tonight with all the interruptions," Anna teased, hoping to lighten the mood, asses just how betrayed Elena felt, but her expression only became more emotive, a growing smile replacing the astonishment.

"Your mother is alive! Anna!" Elena exclaimed, grasping Anna's arms to shake her into understanding, utterly overjoyed. "She's alive!"

"You're not upset that I lied about this?" Anna asked dubiously, since Elena was clearly displeased by every other lie she told that night.

"Of course I'm upset with you for lying," Elena supplied with a growing smile that absolutely belied her words. "But it doesn't mean that I'm not even more happy! At least one of us is getting her mom back, Anna. Tell me what to do – how I can help," Elena insisted with a resolved shake of her head, and the girls both felt their vision blur with familiar moisture and the night that began with tension resolved to laughter and sisterly love.

Chapter 8: The First Rule of Vampire Book Club

Chapter Text

September 2009

Elena tried to wrap her mind about everything that transpired during her conversation with Anna the night before. She was a vampire – a vampire! The supernatural was real. Witches were real.

This was incredible.

But most importantly, Anna's mother was alive!

They stayed up long into the night, discussing the various aspects of vampirism. Elena learned about vervain and compulsion – and why it was so important that she never take off her bracelet under any circ*mstance. Sadly, vervain was hard to come by, Anna informed her, or she'd have gotten her some to brew into a tea, which would render her blood poisonous to any vampire who tried to drink it, and give her protection against compulsion that wouldn't be so easily removed.

'Tween Damon had a fondness for stage magic and hypnotism,' Elena scoffed derisively, mimicking Anna's not-quite-sympathetic-bordering-on-smug tone when she delivered the so-called news. She had to admit that the ruse was clever, and certainly couldn't fault her in assuming it would be a far greater deterrent than telling her that the alluringly dangerous guy she was attracted to was, in fact, dangerous. Of course, he was! But in a manner that made her heart flutter a rising crescendo.

And then came the biggest bombshell of the evening, at least concerning Damon – she was an exact replica of Katherine. Down to every last little mole and beauty mark – and probably some of those hidden under layers of clothing, as well.

Elena's entire countenance fell upon hearing that. Sothat'swhy he seemed so interested in her – or at least in teasing her. She was a carbon copy of his lost love – one he'd spent over a century trying to rescue.

It was never about her, Elena surmised miserably, and the feeling certainly hurt.

At least it wasn't Stefan's entirely-too-attentive fascination with her, before his several-days-long disappearing act from school. Damon mostly exploited Anna's ruse for his own amusem*nt, which, while douchey, didn't rile her nearly as much as Stefan's seemingly openly unending stare that refused to leave her no matter where she moved.

Right. Maybe it was a good thing he took some time away from classes, for her sake, though she was starting to worry it might be something serious. Even if his behavior bordered on creepy at times, she still didn't want anything bad to happen to him.

Wait, did that mean that Stefan was a vampire, too? Maybe he was out of town doing vampy things? Ugh, did he take her diary with him? Rude. The least he could have done was drop it off with Anna.

It was at that moment, she elected that she'd put both brothers out of her mind. Perhaps telling her about her resemblance to Katherine would have worked just as effectively, Elena made sure to tell Anna sulkily, still salty over having been tricked, despite her general excitement over all the newfound possibilities Anna's unwitting invitation to the world of the supernatural just provided.

Her mother was alive!

And Damon was certainly eager to play along with the ruse, wasn't he? Aaah, she was such a fool. Why was she thinking about him again? No matter. She'd go over to the Salvatore Boarding House after school – the address for which Caroline apparently already had well in hand, somehow – get her diary from Stefan, which she was increasingly sure he had, and only interact with either Salvatore when strictly necessary. That's it. That'll work.

Easy.

It was with this affirmation in mind that she drove over to the gorgeous estate after classes had finished for the day, doing all that she could not to gawk at the elegant architecture. She braced herself to knock on the door, hoping to make the transaction quick and breezy. No need to delay. One quick interaction, and she'd put both vampires out of her mind.

Vampires! Her life was officially wild. Her best friend was a vampire, and she apparently had an ancient vampire who could pass for her doppelganger trapped in a tomb below Fell's Church.

She backtracked mentally for a few moments. Maybe she owed Damon an apology. It wasn't his fault that Anna decided to tell a lie about him, and maybe this was his way of making the best of a bad situation. What if he was really shy and sweet, and just trying to adapt and be accepted? Her heart ached at the possibility that she could have made him feel even worse.

Before she could even complete the motion to knock, the heavy oak door to the Boarding House opened to reveal the devastatingly sultry form of Damon Salvatore. Her eyes scanned his body before she could stop herself, hovering over the too-tight black tee he wore that was practically glued to his form and did almost nothing to hide the gorgeously-proportioned muscle and bone structure beneath. Stop drooling, Elena – stop it, she chided herself, before forcing herself to breathe normally. She narrowed her eyes, noticing a smirk embellish his handsome face right after her breath hitched.

Nope. She took back her earlier thoughts immediately and any consideration of apology flew right out the window. He wasn't trying to cope – he was enjoying it. What an arrogant ass.

"What brings you here, Elena?" Ego Incarnate asked, sounding very flirtatious. How did she even partly believe Anna's insinuations before? There was absolutely nothing about him that suggested any juvenile-centered retrograde amnesia was afoot. The guy was pure sex.Stop. It.She practically growled at her own wayward thoughts.

"I'm here to see Stefan," she said succinctly, hoping to cover her very obvious attraction with a cool demeanor. She noticed his jaw tighten, something flash in his eyes briefly – something almost painful. Did those two have issues? Issues with girls? Of course, they did. They were probably hundreds of years old, so they were bound to have an awkward romance story at some point. Was Stefan here for Katherine, too? Is that why he was being so weird with her? Before Elena could properly analyze what she saw behind Damon's eyes, his earlier expression returned, now tinged with amusem*nt. "He's not home, but ooh no, Elena. I'm not supposed to let strange girls in! What will mommy say?"

Elena just rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest defiantly, nonplussed that he was having way too much fun with playing with her. "Probably that her immortal son is a lying jackass."

"Ooh, so Anna told you the truth? Didn't think she'd 'fess up so soon. I'm honestly impressed." His smirk widened in outright excitement, Elena noticed. He tilted his head to the side to scrutinize her. "So, are you here to take the Eternal Stud out for a test spin? Sorry to disappoint that I don't sparkle," he said in a mocking display of sincerity, his astoundingly blue eyes widening in an alluring way that made Elena lean forward toward him as though pulled by an invisible thread until she caught herself. "Or is this more of a fang fetish?"

Elena felt a chill go down her spine. "How can you be so arrogant and glib after everything you've done? You tricked me!"

"And how can you be so brave and stupid to call a vampire 'arrogant and glib'?" He asked pointedly, and there was something about Damon that she'd never noticed before. Sure, she immediately sensed the danger upon meeting him back in May, but there was something else – almost elusive – like his eyes would continuously switch between portraying too much and nothing at all. There was flirtation, but there was also a subtle warning. Hewantedher to think he's dangerous, Elena realized. But why?

"Wow, vampire posturing. There's something I didn't expect to encounter on a random Thursday afternoon," she deadpanned, and only realized how true the statement was. What was her life becoming? "If you wanted me dead, I'd be dead," she shot back, raising both eyebrows sharply.

"Yes, you would," he drawled, apparently back to feeling amused, at least outwardly.

"But I'm not," she shot back, inflecting up.

"Yet," he said impatiently.

Okay, enough was enough. Even Anna admitted eventually that Damon was was unlikely to cause her any real harm until the tomb was open, and then spent all night trying to awkwardly convince her that he would immediately become the height of hazard to her health right afterward, without giving her a solid reason aside from his apparent love for Katherine, between answering the questions with which Elena relentlessly peppered her. None of that made any sense to her. Why would his love for Katherine render him such a danger to her, and why after the tomb was open? She planned to question Anna about this some more, but the hours got away from them. Regardless, Elena could recognize posturing when she saw it. She had a little brother, after all – and she'd spent enough time with the testosterone-driven football team to recognize an annoying bout of machismo for what it was. With just the barest hint of a self-indulgent smirk, she shoved Damon to the side and walked into the house.

"I am a very dangerous predator!" Damon called after her scandalized at her apparent comfort in his presence. At least a little intimidation would have been nice.

Damon's outburst prompted that satisfied smirk in Elena to grow exponentially, and she only managed to hide it because she was facing away from him, the effect of which was ruined when she rounded on him. "What you are is an ass! You let me carry on believing you had amnesia."

"Hey, don't get mad at me," Damon replied with his hands raised in mock-surrender, evidently finding the situation entertaining again. "Your little buddy came up with that delightful ruse, fun for everyone."

"She was trying to protect me, at least," Elena replied, flustered. "You were just trying to have a laugh."

"One must seek joy in all things, Elena," Damon affected with mock serenity, affecting a Yogi's Heart Pose by pressing the palms of his hands together before his chest, as his body bubbled in laughter. "Why are you here to see Saint Steffie, anyway?"

"I lost my diary right outside the cemetery, and it wasn't there when I doubled back. Anna doesn't have it so –" Elena began.

"Yourdiary!?" Damon interrupted, grin grew astronomically in a way that made Elena profoundly uncomfortable – both because it made those butterflies she associated with him come back and that she strongly suspected another scheme was afoot. "And what would my frown-line-magnet little brother find in this diary?" Damon purred, inching closer, a little too aware of the effect he had on her. He raised his voice a few octaves, bringing the back of his hand to his forehead in dramatic fashion. "Dear Diary, today I met the sexiest man in existence, and he unveiled life's wisdom to me, but my annoying bestie says it's not to be – because he had a very bad accident, you see –"

"She said those bits of 'wisdom' came from a YouTube video targeting a tween audience, and I'm starting to think she's right," Elena replied with a smirk of her own.

"But ooh!" Damon continued in a mockery of Elena's voice, as though not hearing her interruption. "It turns out he's a sexy and forbidden creature of the night. What am I to do, Diary? Will he sparkle for me? Will my blood be his 'personal brand of kryptonite'?"

"Are you a fan ofTwilight, Damon?" Elena asked innocently. "Because that definitely supports Anna's tween theory. You seem to know an awful lot about it."

"I saw some clips," he shrugged, back to using his own voice. "Thought some of them would make a great drinking game – for vampires, of course. Or really burly humans. Or humans with a death-wish."

"You officially know more about it than I do," Elena said in a faux-sympathetic tone, as though breaking it to him gently, taking a step closer. "It's okay to admit it, Damon. I won't judge," then her grin widened. "I lied. I'll judge. Excessively."

He raised his eyebrows appraisingly at her, then tilted his head to the side, clearly studying her again with a widening smirk. "So, what kind of literature do you like, then, Elena?"

"I like lots of books," Elena shrugged, a little surprised at the direction in which the conversation was going. "But I find myself re-readingThe Neverending Storya lot."

"Maybe all the people who say ghosts don't exist are just afraid to admit that they do,"Damon quoted the novel from memory to an increasingly impressed Elena, then winked. "The same can be said for the supernatural. All the clues are there, but no one wants to see it," he added smoothly, talking a walk to his wet cart to take out two tumblers. "Drink?"

Elena bit her lip nervously, then nodded. Damon was giving her more information without her prompting than Anna had in months – and she had so many questions – especially about Katherine. "You mean the 'animal attacks' that the town's been covering up for centuries?" Elena asked, affecting air quotes, before taking a glass from Damon.

"What else did Anna tell you about us?" he asked, his eyes flashing dangerously.

Elena couldn't quite place if he meant to intimidate her or if this was just a vampiric instinct. She took an appraising sniff of the amber liquid. Definitely some kind of whiskey. Great. If past experience were to be trusted, this wasn't going to be fun for her. Bracing herself, she took the smallest of sips before the burn down her throat rendered her entire countenance a coughing mess, to her profound embarrassment.

Damon just laughed, looking oddly charmed as he guided her to take the seat on the sofa, and brought her a glass of water. "Definitely not a whiskey girl. Noted."

"She told me about your pupil-dance mind control," Elena said, clearing her throat as she took the proffered water, trying to move the conversation along and away from her humiliating whiskey reaction.

Damon chuckled. "Pupil-dance mind control? You mean compulsion?"

Elena nodded after she took a few sips, relieved that her throat felt a measure better. She felt warmth flood her cheeks when he sat next to her, closer than he'd ever been except for the night they met, when he started to tell her that he wanted her to get everything that she was looking for – right before Anna showed up. She felt her breath tremble, then forcibly steadied herself, lifting her wrist to display her bracelet with a wry smile. "Mmhmm. And vervain."

"Wow," Damon rolled his eyes. "A whole bracelet that can be easily removed. How clever of Anna. You should have several on you – and start ingesting it, too."

"Anna said it was hard to come by," Elena replied indignantly, instinctively defending her friend.

"It is, actually," he conceded. "Lucky for you!" he called as he got up, and disappeared from view, only to reappear less than a second later, carrying a bag of herbs that distinctly resembled lavender, placing them on the table in front of them. "We happen to grow it."

Elena gingerly took one in her hand, feeling its soft petals before taking a cautionary sniff. It almost smelled of roses. "This is the weirdest lavender I've ever seen."

"That's because it's not lavender. It's vervain," Damon corrected wryly.

"Yeah, right," she rolled her eyes, by now used to Damon messing with her. "You just happen to have this exceptionally rare herb, and you're willing to part with it, just for me."

"You want proof?" he asked, his eyebrows shooting up with challenge, right before he took one of the flowers in his hand.

Elena gasped as she watched it singe his skin, instinctively knocking it out of his hand, her chest heaving in horror. Why did he look so smug? "Oh my God, what's wrong with you? Are you okay?"

"I'm a vampire, Elena. I can handle a little –"

She inadvertently interrupted him with an extended wrist, surprising herself with her forwardness before she could think better of it, stunning him to silence. "Anna said you need blood to heal, right?" she stammered, not sure where this was even coming from. He was a vampire, but so was Anna, and Anna was her best friend. Somehow, she couldn't connect the thought of him being able to seriously hurt her when he was the same kind of being as the girl she loved like a sister. All she saw was that he was hurt, and that she could heal him.

He looked at her strangely, and something in his gaze softened. It wasn't the coolness or the mirth that she usually saw, but he almost appeared vulnerable for a split second before taking her wrist in both of his hands, and pushing it back onto her lap. "You were really offering, weren't you?" he asked rhetorically, looking like he was wrestling with himself for a few moments. "No, I'm fine," he finally said after he appeared to have made a decision, opening his palm to her. "Already healed, see?" he said playfully. "Ta-da!"

"That's incredible!" Elena gasped. "How did you heal so quickly?" she queried, her curious mind fully active as she examined his palm. She hadn't actively nursed an interest in medicine since the time her father was alive, and suddenly, she felt that passion attack her like a tidal wave. She couldn't remember the last time she felt so …

…Alive.

"Species-specific secret," he winked.

She laughed, suddenly feeling a lot more comfortable, and drew her legs onto the couch to cross them beneath her.

"Shoes, off! Off my couch," Damon chided with a wag of his finger, tapping each one.

Giggling she removed the offending attire, and resumed her previous, cross-legged position. "Yes, Vampy-Poppins!"

"Don't you forget it," he winked, polishing off the remaining bourbon in his tumbler.

"So, what's your favorite book?" she asked curiously, thinking it only fair that she got to learn about him, too.

"Hard to say," he replied as he walked to pour himself another glass. "I like a lot of them – like you. But I find myself returning toThe Call of the Wilda lot."

"The story of a dog named Buck shedding his domestication to adapt to a wild, new world awaiting him," Elena summarized, then turned her own scrutinizing glance at him. "A bit like a human shedding social conventions to become a vampire?" she asked insightfully.

Damon couldn't help the genuine smile that rose on his face at the assessment, studying her anew. She wasn't what he expected – at all – he had to admit to himself. When he caught her sweet, open, and innocent expressions, he was honestly fascinated by someone wearing Katherine's face showing polar opposite personality traits, though he was more entertained by it than anything else. But then her intelligence surprised him. She seemed keenly perceptive, but not manipulative, and wholly unaware of her own power and sex appeal. She'd even managed to catch him off guard, and that's become an increasingly impossible task with a vampire of his experience.

He didn't know quite how to feel about it. On the one hand, he found her endlessly curious. On the other, she'd already made him feel several things throughout the span of several conversations – especially the one currently and disturbingly short-circuiting his dimmer switch – and a part of him was terrified of the natural endpoint of this obvious trajectory.

He noticed her drumming her fingers on the glass of water he gave her, obviously anxious, and he could have sighed at the relief from the self-examination. "Go ahead. Ask. You're clearly dying to know something."

"Do I really look like her?" she blurted out inelegantly before she could stop herself.

"Katherine?" he asked, surprised at the turn of the conversation. "Anna told you about her?" he asked almost nervously, knowing precisely how she felt about his sire.

Elena nodded sympathetically. "You did, too. I don't know if you remember – but you called me by her name when we first met," she said softly, inching closer, then took his hand in hers. His eyes shot up to hers in alarm, confusion. "I'm sorry," Elena breathed, taking a few seconds to elaborate. "I'm sorry you've been without her for so long. It must have been so hard for you. But I'm helping Anna get her mom back, and I'll help you get Katherine back, too," she said with a warmth in her voice that clenched his heart, and he wanted to look away so badly – look at anything else – but all he could do was get lost in the expressive, dark eyes that were so much like Katherine's and yet inherently different. The genuine and undisguised empathy in them was almost overwhelming him. "I can't even imagine what it's like to be separated from someone you love for almost a hundred and fifty years."

Damon swallowed the lump in his throat – looking for something, anything, to distract him from the tumult of emotion that was threatening to overwhelm him. What the hell was wrong with his switch? He needed to get Katherine back and get out of town fast before this place turned him into the pathetic sap he was as a human – or even worse, Stefan. Ugh, okay, that did it, he shuddered in disgust. Nothing like subconsciously comparing himself to his Mope-Master and Mole-Muncher brother to shake off any excess sentiment and threat of returning humanity.

Before Damon could elaborate further, the subject in question evidently returned, and he could practically feel the seething rage coming off him in waves. "Hello, Stefan," Damon greeted without turning around, still facing Elena with a wry grin, and added a wink for good measure, just to see a hint of a pretty blush embellish her cheeks.

"Damon," Stefan greeted stiffly, watching his brother with overt suspicion.

"Stefan!" Elena jumped up, sensing the sudden awkwardness in the room. "Are you okay? You haven't been in school for the last few days."

"I'm fine," Stefan replied, keeping his gaze on Damon. Although the moment was decidedly rife with tension, Elena was relieved to note that she wasn't the only one on the receiving end of one of Stefan's exceptionally intense stares. She'd have to ask Damon about that later. "Just getting over a bug. I'll be there tomorrow."

"Great!" She said nervously, locking her hands behind her back, and choosing not to acknowledge the lie about having a human illness in favor of getting out of there as quickly as possible. "Do you have my diary?"

"Uh, yeah," Stefan said awkwardly, finally looking at her and taking it out of his jacket pocket, holding it out to her. "I didn't read it – I promise," he said, and Elena looked a bit dubious, but took the offered item. "I was just by your house to return it, but you weren't home. Now I see why," he added with narrowed eyes, returning his gaze to Damon.

"Fantastic!" Elena chirped, eager to exit this clearly uncomfortable environment. "I'll be going now. It was good to see you, Damon," she said, gathering the bag of vervain and her diary into her backpack.

"Great seeing you, too, Elena," Damon said with more sincerity than he intended, placing a soft kiss on the back of her hand just to listen to her breath catch again. She nodded once, not trusting herself to speak, then practically ran out the door.

"You gave her vervain?" Stefan asked suspiciously, as soon as they both heard Elena get into her car. "What game are you playing at, Damon?"

"Wow, you really have no imagination, Stef," Damon shook his head playfully, pouring himself yet another glass of bourbon. "No vision – at all! She's a founding family member, so I'm obviously trying to gain her trust to keep them all in my back pocket," he said easily, though inwardly he was wondered if he was trying to convince Stefan or himself.

"It's always some kind of angle or scheme with you, isn't it?" Stefan replied, nonplussed with his brother's attitude.

"That's right!" Damon exclaimed with faux cheer, taking his tumbler and walking out of the room. He was done with this conversation. He'd already felt too many unwelcome emotions for one day, and the last thing he needed before he opened the tomb was that kind of dangerous, humanity-affecting introspection.

Chapter 9: It's a Party, and I'll Feed if I Wanna

Chapter Text

Late September 2009

It was his physical mantra, his sacred ritual – his path toward a moment of Zen. With each hair slicked so flawlessly, Stefan Salvatore felt his anxiety lessen, his sense of control increase. There – the repetitive motions soothed him, kept his frazzled brain from obsessively going over the recent events of his life that left him feeling helpless and angry and exasperated beyond belief.

What was Damon doing back in town? Every time he'd tried to question his devious older brother, Damon would just find a new way to ridicule him or dodge the question. And now it seemed he'd even won over the trust and affection of Elena. Sweet, innocent Elena. She'd already faced so much tragedy in her young life, and now it would appear that Damon was intent to make her suffer evermore. Why would he give her vervain? None of it made any sense.

Unless it was fake.

Of course! That must have been it. Maybe it was an herb that he had someone enchant to make her even more susceptible to his whims? There's no way that his brother – his brother who promised him an eternity of misery, who sought to complicate his life at every turn, who massacred the house's borders in the '90s – would want to cause her anything but harm. The thought brought Stefan as much pain as anything else, because he missed his brother desperately – the Damon who protected him from father, who taught him how to play football, who cared for him. But that Damon was gone.

Long gone with the transition to vampirism, and Damon would never forgive him. It seemed like no matter what he did, though, Stefan couldn't let go of the hope that someday Damon would return to him. After all, in all the long years of his life, the one constant source of his emptiness was the thought of his brother. He realized, belatedly, that Damon was perhaps the only person he ever truly loved – truly needed.

But Damon was long gone, and it was time to accept that.

And the monster who had taken his place had to be handled before more people died at his hands. As it was, Damon already threatened to compel Elena – to make her his puppet – only to give her vervain later that same day. Yet another piece of evidence that the herb was a fraud.

Stefan tried to spike his bourbon earlier that day, but he must have been too obvious in his attempt at intrigue, because his ruse had been unveiled almost immediately. He'd have to be clever. If Damon's spending this much time with Elena – and he'd seen them together at the Grill and at the park, and all over town several times in the last few weeks, always laughing and flirting – then he was likely feeding on her. All he would have to do is poison his food source, and then Elena would be safe. He'd do it at the Founders' Party that night, Stefan resolutely decided.

There – there was a well-crafted plan. Yet another hair perfectly in place. The gel kept firm control over his locks, just as Stefan himself must keep over his emotions, in order to not let the ripper out. Perfectly coiffed – perfectly still – a vision of serenity. Just one more errant hair …

But Stefan was so immersed in his endeavor that he hardly heard Damon sneak up on him. "No matter how much you prep to seduce Bagheera, Stef, he won't give that blood up so easily!"

The relative volume of Damon's obnoxious query compared to the silence of his approached sounded like yelling in his ear, caused Stefan to lose all concentration, and flatten his carefully-constructed hairdo.

"Asshole," Stefan muttered under his breath as he watched a laughing Damon exit the room and prepared to start his hair ritual all over again.

As the evening pressed on in the Gilbert household, Elena and Anna found themselves getting ready for the most anticipated event Mystic Falls promised all season – the Founders' Party and Heritage Display that would kick off the official, several months-long celebration, culminating with a parade.

In the midst of it all would be the Miss Mystic Falls pageant. Elena groaned inwardly at the thought – she registered at the behest of her mother, a former Mystic Queen. Although pageants were never Elena's cup of tea, she wasn't a passionate opposer of them, either. While she definitely lacked Caroline's genuine zeal for town mores and traditions, she also wasn't so far on the other end of the spectrum as to scoff at the pageant as 'kowtowing to the patriarchy,' as Anna was fond of saying, while occasionally dropping curious little snippets about her own alleged intention to participate back in 1864.

Now, the thought of it tied her up in knots. Would she be able to get through it? Would it be too much of a reminder?

She weighed her options, wondering if her mother would be disappointed in her for dropping out. She would, wouldn't she? Elena was already responsible for her early demise, so doesn't she owe her at least this? This meant that Elena had to participate, even if the thought of it terrified her. All those committees - poking and prodding into her innermost thoughts - analyzing her behavior, scrutinizing her grief, judging her.

"Are you okay?" Anna asked dubiously, seeing that Elena mentally disappeared somewhere again.

Elena bit her lip, choosing to forgo her present train of thought – she was starting to feel guilty for occupying the discussion space about her grief constantly, and instead elected to talk about another matter that was on her mind. "Bonnie told me she's a witch."

The smile that illuminated Anna's face could only be compared to a Cheshire Cat. "Excellent," she emoted by rubbing her hands together in an eerily accurate parody of Mr. Burns.

Elena stifled a chuckle, then took a seat on her bed, folding one leg beneath her at the knee. "She showed me this really cool thing with floating feathers!"

"Well, she is a Bennett witch – they're strong," Anna admitted, respect evident in her tone.

"She told me something else, too," Elena shyly admitted, averting her eyes from Anna's penetrating gaze.

Anna was familiar with this look and dreaded who it was probably about. "What's that?" she asked, proud of herself for only slightly clenching her teeth.

"She said that when she touched me, she saw a crow, fog, a man – and that it was only the beginning," Elena breathed, sounding considerably dreamier than she hoped. "She predicted Damon."

"Damon has a raven familiar," Anna retorted smartly, even though she honestly had no idea if this was true since she was hardly a zoologist, yet she still had only the vaguest hope that this would dissuade her clearly enamored friend.

Elena just rolled her eyes. "Bonnie's not exactly an avian expert, and that's not the point – don't get bogged down with a detail."

"Fine," Anna huffed. "I told you he's bad news. We're reluctant allies to save my mom, and then we go our separate ways – and he'll go off to court his sociopath like a good little obsessed minion."

Elena chewed her lip again, a sign of anxiety – on the precipice of making a decision. "I offered him my blood to heal him, and he didn't take it. I think you're wrong about –"

"What!?" Anna exclaimed, interrupting her. "Why would you do that?"

Elena groaned audibly, falling onto her back on the bed, her ceiling and its photoluminescent stars on display. "Instinct, I guess? He was hurt. I didn't really think about it."

"Well, you should!" Anna scoffed, horrified by the information. "He's a goddamn predator! We all are. You're lucky he didn't drain you dry."

"You wouldn't," Elena countered, sitting up to face her interlocutor. "You would never hurt me," she declared confidently.

"But Damon would!" Anna shot back. "And Stefan! If Katherine wanted it. Noah – f*cking Noah's already talked about delivering you to Katherine just for a chance at a breadcrumb from her. If he didn't turn into such a sad mess every time I threatened him, I'd have staked him already, but make no mistake – Katherine's boytoys are committed, and they'd do anything for even a flicker of attention from her."

"And you think Damon will do the same exact thing?" Elena interrupted hotly. "I met Noah, remember? The two of them don't act anything alike."

"Fine," Anna grudgingly admitted. "Maybe Damon has a bit more finesse but believe me – Katherine Pierceensnares. She's one of the best manipulators I've met in myvery longlife – this is a woman who managed to fool my mother, and rest assured that Pearl Zhu is not easily taken in. But her boytoys are the worst of the bunch – and everyone in that little harem she's made over the years is devoted. So, what am I afraid of? I'm afraid that if Katherine asks for your head on a silver platter, he'll only be too happy to deliver just for a small round of eye-f*cking contact and the false promise of a quick handy under the table. Trust me when I say that a vain narcissist like Katherine will beveryinterested to learn she has an exact, human lookalike."

"Why would you think that? I mean – yeah, sure – he wants to save her. But there's a big difference between wanting to ease someone's pain and being their puppet," Elena replied, horrified.

"He's been trying to free her for one-hundred and forty-five years, Elena!" Anna threw her arms up frustration that it was apparently so difficult for her to get her point across.

"And you've been trying to free your mom!" Elena countered. "You told me yourself that my ancestor betrayed her. What if she asks you to serve me up on a platter for revenge? Would you?"

Anna instantly backed down, all the heat deflating from her countenance. "You know I wouldn't."

Elena's own demeanor gentled in response. "Then how do you knowhewould?"

"Because I know what Katherine does to her lovers," Anna admitted quietly. "I live with one – and believe me when I say it isn't pretty. Noah's a coward, though, thank God. He's been pretty easy to keep in line. And I know Damon seems fine now, but once that tomb opens …" Anna trailed off, in response to which Elena narrowed her eyebrows in scrutiny. She'd seen that look before.

Elena studied Anna for a few seconds, scrutinizing the sudden change in the demeanor. "There's something you're not telling me," she intuited.

"You're right, E," Anna sighed, but didn't elaborate. Both girls were silent for several seconds, with Anna finally speaking again as she feared that Elena's prompting eyebrows would raise so high that they'd escape through her top of her head. "And I can't – not yet. I'm asking you to please just trust me on this."

"Anna –" Elena sighed.

"Please, Elena," Anna beseeched. "Please, just trust me. It'll make sense after we open the tomb. I already lost my mom because of that bitch – please don't make me lose you, too!"

The room was shot into silence. Privately, Elena felt that Anna was a little unfair, but as someone who lost her own parents recently, she understood the emotional spirals that came with that kind of grief entirely too well – and having been separated from her mother for nearly 150 years, with the potential of perpetuity if all requirements for a spell were not met, had to have felt final at least at some points. Elena drew her knees to her chest around Gummi initially, then quickly got up to envelop Anna in a hug. The vampire just stood in place and allowed herself to get embraced. "I'll be careful; I promise," she soothed into Anna's ear, squeezing her tightly. "You won't lose me."

They stood in their embrace for several whole minutes, before Anna cleared her throat and finally pulled back, still not entirely comfortable with that level of intimacy and vulnerability. "We need to keep getting ready."

"Anna…" Elena began, trailing off when she couldn't figure out quite how to phrase her concern, especially given the fragile state Anna allowed herself to reach.

"I won't let anyone get hurt – I promise," Anna quickly offered, correctly discerning Elena's concern. The human girl just nodded, squeezing Gummi on her lap when she sat back down on the bed, as she felt the first bouts of anxiety. Instead of giving into it, however, she felt that her vampiric friend had earned herself a tease with a topic that clearly annoyed her. She smiled mischievously. "He didn't take my blood when I freely offered, Anna," she teased in a musical cadence.

"He didn't take your blood because he knows I'll kick his ass, E," Anna smirked arrogantly, at once relieved by the happier atmosphere and irritated that they were talking about him again. She rolled her dark irises skyward as she applied her eyeshadow and liner with considerably more ease than anyone who looked her age should. "That's what makes the most sense – Damon may be a bit reckless, but he's not suicidal."

"And I take it you're stronger?" Elena intoned playfully, indulging her.

"Obviously! I've got four hundred years on him!" Anna scoffed indignantly. "It's like you fighting a five-year-old. Seriously, the Salvatores are babies," she explained, well aware that she was exaggerating the ratio.

"And how old are you exactly?" Elena inquired with a subtle tilt of her head.

"I'm five-hundred and fifty-seven; the boys are barely past a hundred and sixty – baby vamps, all things considered," Anna proudly revealed to Elena's ever widening eyes.

"Yeah, so young," Elena deadpanned, indulging an eyeroll. "I guess you weren't really being dishonest when you compared Damon to a twelve-year-old, because age is relative, right?"

"Glad you see it my way!" Anna cheered, grabbing another 'granny candy' to pop into her mouth before adding the final touches on her smoky eye.

In response, Anna just received a giggle and a pillow thrown at her face.

The Lockwood Estate was decorated resplendently, which was far from a surprise to any of the attendees. Say what you will about the family matriarch and her hostile treatment of employees, the woman certainly knew how to throw a ball.

Anna and Elena met Damon on the grounds per an agreement they finally reached after he unsuccessfully pitched picking them up a few times, counting on Elena extending a polite invitation reflexively – ideas that Anna vetoed each time. Finally, he gave up and just agreed to meet them in the gardens.

Damon wore a suspiciously smug expression as the girls approached him – at least that was what Anna noticed first. What she noticed second was the gasp that Elena desperately tried to hide as her eyes took in his form, the height of elegance and sophistication in his perfectly tailored suit. As they approached him, he reached into his jacket pocket to pull out two corsages. "For my two dates," he intoned with a sultry wink.

"Nasturtium? Victory in battle? Really? That's some wishful thinking," Anna snarked, taking the offered item to secure on her own wrist. "Damon's using the flower language we were all forced to learn to act obnoxious," she explained to a blushing Elena, who allowed Damon to place the bracelet decorated with red tulips, salvias, and pink roses, its band embossed with the thornless stem of the latter flower on her wrist.

"What does mine mean?" Elena asked, proud to control the slight tremor in her voice – then internally scolded herself for being so ridiculous. She frowned when she noticed the increasing annoyance on Anna's face.

"It's a nonsensical mess," Anna finally said offhandedly, choosing not to reveal the provocative meaning of the arrangement. Just what the hell was Damon playing at? "But let's see – a secret. Damon's hiding a secret. Probably the erectile dysfunction," she stage-whispered to her human friend. "It happens to some vamps after their first century."

"You can keep trying, Anna-Banana, but you're not getting anywhere near what's inside these pants," Damon sassed musically. "She thinks that if she keeps sexually harassing me and calling me a 'prude' that I'll give it up," he said with a shake of his head that played at earnestness. "Too bad there's no vampy HR. I feel so wounded and violated. I need someone to heal me. What about you, Elena? Want to heal this wounded soul that Anna keeps harassing?" he purred with a wink.

Elena stifled a snicker and looked at him pointedly. "Sorry, but if you're looking for an 'I can fix him' girl, you're in the wrong place. The only one who can do that is in the mirror," prompting a high-five from Anna.

"And on that note, youngins, it's time to get inside," Anna declared, hooking her arms through Elena and Damon's, and enjoying being able to speak about her advanced age freely.

As the trio approached the threshold, they found that there was no greeter who would have the authority to invite a vampire inside. Shocking them all, Damon stepped into the house, then turned around, enjoying his companions' sputtering faces. "I told you I didn't need you to get an invite. Carol was only too eager to get the Eternal Stud inside," he expressed with a wink.

"Do I even want to know how you scored an invite to the Lockwood Manor all by yourself?" Anna wryly intoned, stepping inside, having been invited before when the Lockwoods hosted a barbeque for the Mystic Falls football team and cheerleading squad. Feigning reluctance as Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline's combined plus one had been all too easy to score the lucrative all-access pass, though at times she admittedly found the company she had to keep for the remainder of the afternoon too high a price.

"Did you tell her that speaking to the manager is your kink, Damon?" Elena impishly grinned, stepping inside to join them.

Damon only wiggled his eyebrows in response. "If you want to know more about my kinks, Elena, all you have to do is ask. I'd be happy to offer a full demonstration."

Feeling her cheeks flush and a very unwelcome but tantalizing heat flood her body, Elena awkwardly cleared her throat. "Ooh, look, champagne! I'm getting a drink," she said with her strongest and not entirely successful attempt at a calm demeanor, forced a winning smile, and quickly jumped away to chase down the caterer serving her favorite effervescent beverage.

Once Elena was out of earshot, Anna leveled Damon a piercing look. "What the hell are you playing at with those flowers? Gardenia for 'secret love,' salvia for 'I think of you,' pink roses for 'please believe me' —and the f*cking cherry on top with the thornless rose bracelet to indicate 'love at first sight?' Really?"

"Oh, Anna – so paranoid in your old age. They're just flowers," he shrugged. When she resumed glaring, his grin rose to hitherto unprecedented proportions. "Maybe I do have a plan – or maybe I don't. Either way, that's for me to know, and for you to dot-dot—."

Anna interrupted with a roll of her eyes, releasing a barely held chuckle with a scoff. "Don't even. Watch yourself, Salvatore."

"Yeah, I'm the image of trepidation. Shaking in my sexy Armanis," he rolled his eyes in return. "You'd probably notice if you weren't practically foaming at the mouth. What the f*ck happened to you, Annabelle? You used to be fun."

"I got my family ripped apart by your psycho ex-girlfriend," she spat. "That two-faced bitch you and your mopey brother kept pining over, even after she eviscerated your heart. f*cking pathetic."

"Yeah, well, in a few days, both your family and my heart will be put back together," Damon replied flatly. "So why don't we get ahead and start practicing that distance now?"

With that bout of hostility, the two vampires separated to opposite corners of the room, both satisfied to pursue their individual endeavors. As Anna contented herself with her friends, Damon made a quick escape upstairs to collect the crystal that he'd been seeking since his return to Mystic Falls.

Why did he choose those flowers? Damon scoffed inwardly, as he pocketed the prized item that he'd sought for so long. He couldn't explain it. He was drawn to them and felt an insatiable urge to give Elena something withthatparticular message.

He growled at his own stupidity. What the f*ck was wrong with him? He was days –days– away from finally reuniting with Katherine. So, what the hell was he doing playing suitor to Elena? Because she somehow stumbled into piercing through his armor with her questions – her insights? Because he could see that she genuinely cared? Because he somehow managed to pull out her smile and her laugh and that adorable twinkle in her eye that's hidden behind a sea of grief, and it made him feel like the very Sun was shining straight into his still-beating undead heart?

f*ck all that, he scoffed.

Anna seemed to think it was some kind of ploy to f*ck with her friend, apparently – and if Damon had to be perfectly honest with himself, he'd much prefer it was that. Definitely better than an alternative that he was not even remotely ready to explore.

Whatever – let Anna think what she wants. He'll be gone in a few days, anyway, and they won't be his problem anymore.

As is, this town and its active vampire-hunting council was so stifling it was making him chafe. He hadn't had any real fun since that couple he killed on his way in, hoping to cause enough of a stir to scare Stefan away. Anna then cornered him – again – with a threat to expose him to the council if he kept this sh*t up. His first response was, of course, to tell her exactly where she could shove it, but he needed her as much as she needed him.

He supplied the crystal. She supplied the Bennett witch.

So, in order to be reunited with Katherine, Damon had to play the role of a good model citizen for a few weeks. Fine. But no one said he couldn't have any fun in the process.

And spending time with Elena was fun.

Elena, meanwhile, snuck away to the manor's library. Her heart was practically beating out of her chest as she found a book on Victorian flower language. She'd gotten a compliment on her corsage from one of Carol Lockwood's snooty friends, haughtily claiming that only Founding Family members would have the requisite class to combine gardenias, salvias, pink roses, and the thornless stem of rose into such a complex and romantic statement. It took all of Elena's willpower to not visibly roll her eyes skyward at her elitism, but it made her profoundly curious.

What statement?

Avoiding revealing the identity of her mysterious 'admirer,' as the woman called him, she made a quick excuse to look into the matter.

She opened the book with trembling fingers, her heart's tempo seemingly increasing with each definition she learned – positively alight with romance.

That was until she read what the thornless rose meant. 'Love at first sight.' And then it was as though ice flooded her veins.

"Katherine."That was his first word to her. At first sight, Damon had thought she was someone else. She wiped at the traitorous tears that instantly flooded her eyes as she felt a bit of her heart shatter, hoping that she wasn't smearing any of her make-up. She felt so pathetic. He was just screwing with her – just playing with a naïve girl until he got what she really wanted.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm as she replaced the book on its shelf. It didn't matter. Anna said they'd try to open the tomb sometime this week, if they managed to convince Bonnie and her Grams to help – which would be a task in and of itself – and Damon would leave.

He and his smirk, and his penetrating gaze, and his wit, and his insight, and the way he makes her feel like she deserves to be happy and herself again - and the way he makes her heart feel like she's drowning and burning all at once, in the most exhilarating way - would be gone. And she could start to heal from that, too. Better he leaves now before she falls even more for a guy clearly interested in someone else – someone who's just using her as a distraction.

She left the library morosely, the world around her almost dissipating as she became enraptured by her gloomy thoughts, that she didn't feel Damon take her hand as soon as she walked back into the ballroom and pull her into a dance.

"What's the matter, Pouty?" he asked cheekily as he spun her, leading her to wrap her arms around his neck.

"Having fun pretending I'm Katherine?" Elena asked with more bite than she intended, hating how jealous she sounded.

"Is that what Anna's been telling you?" Damon asked with an inquisitive raise of his eyebrow.

"No, it's what logic is telling me. I look like your Lost Lenore – therefore, and I'm not going to say 'ergo,' because I'm not a pretentious ass-hat," she wagged her finger playfully, hoping that she sounded breezy enough to hide the pain in her voice.

Damon, meanwhile, got the distinct impression that she was referencing someone very specific. Stef? He really hoped that his brother slipped and regurgitated a barrage of pompous gems between bouts of self-indulgent moping.

He knew that Stefan had some unsuccessful attempts at courtship, and even offered her a vervain pendant that had been in his possession since the 1920s. Damon intuited as much by the new, baby frown lines trying to fight their way to the surface amid a crowded sea of veterans on the fire hazard that was Stefan's forehead. He sulked and moped over it for a good hour, and Damon felt his mood brighten astronomically that evening. Watching Steffie get grumpy and grumbly was always a delight.

"Lost Lenore? Poe references are a bit on-the-nose for a guy with a corvid, aren't they?" Damon tutted with a very disappointed shake of his head. "I expected better from you, Elena."

Elena smiled despite her best intentions, desperately trying to hide how their flirtation affected her, though based on his growing smirk, it appeared he noticed. Her face instantly fell again as she recalled that this was likely just a game to him. That's all she and her feelings were. "I'm not Katherine, Damon," she said with a sincere and almost penetrating sadness for which she could have kicked herself. Didn't champagne normally put her in a good mood? Why was she being so emotional? Maybe it wasn't the one tiny little glass she had, she reasoned – but rather the company.

"I know," he said softly, visibly troubled by her words. "I know you're not, Elena. You and Katherine…" he paused, evidently trying to think of the right words. "You're different, so different."

"How so?" she asked, her curiosity piquing.

"Katherine was a complicated person," Damon finally said, after thinking about it for a few seconds. "She's cunning, bordering on brilliant. She could wrap someone around her finger in almost no time at all. She's lithe, confident, a femme fatale – a real predator. She can be very cruel, but sexy and seductive enough for it to be overlooked," he explained, and with every word, he saw Elena practically closing off, the light behind her eyes dimming. He frowned, something deep within him profoundly distraught over her apparent pain at his words. With a jerky nod, she moved to separate from him, but he held her close. "But you've a different kind of charm. You're clever, too, and insightful – which surprised me. I didn't expect it, and it's sexy as f*ck. You have a warmth about you – a glow. It shines on everyone around you. And I know you don't have a lot of reasons to smile right now – but when you do, it's like the Sun. You're the light, Elena – it's a fitting name," he intoned softly, feeling the clenching around his chest release with the light blush on her cheeks. When her dark eyes met his – somehow even more expressive than Katherine's and filled with kindness, affection, mirth, he thought he felt his own breath catch for an instant. He quickly shook the notion away. It's because she looks like her, he told himself. That's the only reasonable explanation for this irritating malfunction of his switch every time she was near. Why was he so averse to hurting her – so compelled to ease her pain and bring her joy?

It wouldn't matter soon, anyway. Just a few more days – weeks at the most – and he could leave this town and Elena in the dust. Why did that notion hurt so much? He shook it off again. He needed to get a hold of himself.

Now that the crystal was safely tucked away in his suit jacket's inside pocket, he could easily move on to phase two of his plan for the evening. Sweet, entertaining revenge.

After his brother tried to pull a spiked bourbon stunt on him earlier that day, convinced that he was somehow hurting Elena, he knew to be careful at the party. Peripherally, he noticed him spike some champagne. What a rube. No originality, whatsoever.

Once the dance ended, he kissed Elena's hand again just to listen to her heartbeat accelerate – just to stroke his own ego, of course, he calmly told himself – and took off toward Carol to discuss an idea he pitched earlier.

Elena's heart beat in allegro as she watched Damon walk away toward Mrs. Lockwood, only to run into Stefan, who offered her a glass of champagne. Never one to resist an offer of tantalizing bubbly, she smiled and gladly took the preferred drink.

"Thanks! Where's Caroline?" she asked pointedly, not wanting her friend – who admittedly suffered from some very serious insecurity when it came to affections from romantic targets – to feel betrayed. She saw that Stefan and Caroline arrived together.

"She's around," he said evasively, then scratched the back of his head nervously. "Listen, Elena, I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable earlier today when I offered you the necklace. I wanted to apologize if you thought –"

"Stefan, you can't offer me a beautiful necklace while you're dating one of my friends," she interrupted softly, putting him out of his misery.

"Caroline and I aren't dating!" he was quick to correct. "We're here as friends." Elena frowned, concerned that Caroline might not see it that way, but he was quick to continue. "That necklace – it would make me feel better if you wear it."

"I'm already wearing vervain, Stefan," she said gently, but firmly. It was time to drop the act.

He looked taken aback for a second, then pressed on. "I don't think you are. I know my brother – there's no way he gave yourealvervain. He just wants to lull you into a false sense of security," he said seriously, desperate for her to understand. "Do you have any bite marks on you?"

Elena frowned, feeling herself growing irritated. Even Anna hadn't gone so far as to accuse Damon of manipulating her this way, and her paranoia about him was through the roof, to say the least. Though given her experience with Damon's choice of romantic partner, Elena could grudgingly understand her concerns, even if she didn't share them. This was completely uncalled for, however – especially from a guy whose interactions with her revolved primarily around creepy staring. "No, I don't," she answered in a clipped tone.

Stefan still appeared troubled, instead trying a different approach. "So, you know about us." It was a statement. All pretense of ignorance about the supernatural, gone.

"Yep," Elena replied, no change in her tone.

"Then I guess I can finally tell you the truth," he continued, looking somehow both nervous and relieved. "That time we ran into each other outside in the school hallway – it wasn't the first time we met." When Elena's eyebrows drew together in apparent consternation, he continued. "It was earlier, in May – on the night your parents died," he said quietly, letting the moment fall as Elena's eyes widened.

"You –" she began, not knowing – fearing – what his role in the accident was.

"I was the one who pulled you out of the river," he interrupted quickly, sensing where the direction of her thoughts was going, and opting to cut it off at the pass. "Your father gestured for me to save you first, and I did. I wanted to save your parents, too, but when I came back …" he trailed off. "Will you please take the necklace now? I just want to protect you now, as I did then."

Elena nodded numbly. That made sense – that tracked with everything the confusing police report suggested. One second she was underwater, and in the next instant, she woke up ashore. Although people have tried to tell her that she merely blocked out the memories of swimming out of the vehicle, it made little sense to her. She didn't have anything resembling the physical strength to fight against the added force of water pressure at that depth to open the car door – fight or flight response only went so far. And wouldn't she have at least tried to save her parents?

He saved her life. She'd been rude and dismissive of him, while she owed him her life. Just how many more times did she need to prove to herself that she was a horrible person?

Stefan smiled almost imperceptibly, pulling out the necklace and placing it around a shellshocked Elena's neck. As she finally chanced a glance up, she saw Damon staring at them with an inscrutable expression, though the telltale tightening of his jaw suggested to her that he was far from happy about the turn of events. Before Elena could analyze his behavior further, he turned on his heels, and left the party.

Why the f*ck did seeing Stefan place that necklace around Elena's neck bother him so much? Did she take it from him because she believed his bullsh*t story about giving her fake vervain? Yeah, sure, he'd been f*cking with Stefan since he got here, and more or less implying that he planned to turn every human here into his puppet, but he'd been nothing but honest with Elena – after the veil behind Anna's prank came down, of course. He needed a drink – a real one. He needed to get the f*ck out of this stifling town and sink his fangs into a human neck and get some warm blood, straight from the vein. Maybe even rip some f*cking throats out. If nothing else, it would make him feel better and tuck his humanity switch firmly in place, where it belonged.

It had to be because she looked like Katherine, and it brought back nauseating memories from 1864, right? That had to be it. It couldn't be anything more.

"Damon!" he heard Elena's breathless voice as he walked down the garden. She must have run after him. He turned around slowly, guarded. "I didn't believe him that it was fake," she breathed, taking a step closer. "I know you wouldn't trick me like that."

He willed his signature sardonic smirk onto his face, expression devil-may-care as ever despite his inner turmoil, and tilted his head to the side. "So are you two kids going steady now? Did Steffie lure you in with his 'tortured soul' gimmick? Are you two shopping for heavy-duty skincare? Because I have to warn you - all the botox in the world doesn't stand a chance against the mighty force of the Forehead of Self-Righteousness," he mock-chided with a musical lilt to his voice, biting sarcasm just tracing the edges of his tone.

Elena just looked taken aback, unsure why he would jump to that conclusion, though she couldn't fight the rising traces of a smile of his description of Stefan.

"You're wearing his necklace," he said simply.

Elena fiddled with it for a few silent moments. "He saved my life, Damon," she accentuated, an almost pleading tone to her voice, willing him to understand. "Ihaveto… I can't –"

His sigh was pronounced enough to be audible as he finally allowed his guard to drop, the situation making a depressing kind of sense to him. He closed the distance between them, and gently placed his hands on her shoulders, his gaze penetrating as he searched her eyes. "Life debts are outdated, Elena. You don't owe him anything."

"You don't understand," she choked, dark eyes filling with tears as the memories from that night assailed her, forcing her to relive them. The force of the river flooding the car, the waves of panic as she counted her last moments, stretching into eons – and then, waking up on the riverbank. Lost, alone, but hopeful – so very hopeful – only the have the last shreds of that hope decimated in a cold hospital room, freezing what was left of the girl she was before.

"I do," he said quietly, letting his fingers stroke her shoulders affectionately, his thumbs tracing comforting patterns to and fro.

In the distance, a pair of eyes belonging to a man whose auditory perception was not strong enough to hear the whispered conversation waited for a bite – and with it, his moment to strike, and to rid the town of a perceived menace. But the bite never came.

"Keep the necklace, Elena. I told you before that I want you to have multiple pieces of vervain on you at all times – and start drinking it, too," Damon said affectionately, his face drawing closer to hers of its own volition.

She looked up at him through her tears, between intermittent glances at his lips which were drawing closer. She licked her own in anticipation, her heart rate accelerating. At the last second, however, his face drew up, and she felt the softest kiss against her forehead, before he pulled back to look at her. His expression was profoundly sad, almost resigned. What she would have given to learn what he was thinking. "Damon…" she whispered before she knew what to say – how to articulate the tidal waves of emotion in her heart.

"Be safe, Elena," he softly replied, and walked into the night.

Anna, in the meantime, was occupying herself with examining the generously diverse charcuterie display – mostly with her tastebuds – and stuffing her face with all its impressive variety of meats and cheeses. Elegantly, of course. All the while, she had to fend off awkward attempts at flirting by the resident townies, including one Jeremy Gilbert, who clearly decided that his sister's bestie should be the honored object of his sexual reawakening. At least it got him to forget about Vicki Donovan, Anna reasoned, popping another sharp cheddar cube in her mouth. And who could fault the kid for having such impeccable taste?

She noted a clearly bewildered Elena reenter the abode and look around as if in a trance for a moment, before she spotted the vampire and headed over.

"Where were you?" Anna asked, before picking up some goat cheese. "Youhaveto try this, E! Amazing."

"Oh my God," Elena moaned, knocked out of her stupor by the taste of the offered item. The gentle texture was smeared on a cheese cracker, and it was divine. "Literally the only reason to go to these parties."

"Why are you wearing Stefan's gaudy necklace?" Anna laughed when she noticed the offending item on Elena's neck, while piling more food onto her plate – and secretly always eager to brag about her superior metabolism to jealous partygoers. "Did he cry you into submission?"

Before Elena could answer, however, the girls were distracted by delicate clinking on a crystal champagne flute. The hostess continued until the room was swept in silence and all attention was on Carol Lockwood. "Thank you all for attending our annual Founders' Party and Heritage Display!" she announced, staying silent as she waited for the applause to dissipate. "Although we must apologize that some items are notably missing," she continued with thinly-veiled irritation, making eye contact with Elena, I'd like to announce a new event that will take place this season to honor the good citizens of our beloved town. For the first time ever, our fine home will proudly host the Little Miss Miss Mystic Falls Pageant!" Carol announced cheerfully.

"A kiddie pageant?" Anna whispered to Elena, turning to make sure her face wasn't in Carol's direct line of sight and emoting vomiting with her finger down her throat. "Just when I thought town couldn't get any more backward."

"And the name! Little MissMissMystic Falls? Who came up with that cumbersome nonsense?" Elena scoffed.

"And the best part," Carol continued, "is that our very own Elena Gilbert and Anna Zhu volunteered to serve as judges. Everyone please give them a round of applause!"

"WHAT!?" Anna growled; the volume of her exclamation drowned out by the clapping of the party's enthusiastic attendees. "That motherf*cker."

The following morning saw the girls at a car wash that served as a fundraiser for football and cheerleading uniforms for underprivileged members of Mystic Falls High School's athletic teams. It was an unusually warm September still – which allowed the respective team members to shed their clothing in favor of swimwear in hopes for getting tips from prospective customers. Caroline organized the event – of course – like every other that had thus far happened that year.

Elena inwardly growled as she leaned over to clean the third car to come to her station. Anna had abandoned her that morning to see if she could somehow fix the debacle to which Damon had apparently assigned them, in what she supposed was petty revenge for Anna's stunt regarding his so-called retrograde amnesia. What an ass. He clearly enjoyed messing with her during that whole spectacle, too!

It was at that moment that the object of her at once attraction and irritation casually strolled onto the scene, availing himself of his outerwear to stand in front of her wearing nothing but navy swim trunks – even then he managed to dress in a way that brought out his eyes, never mind his perfectly sculpted physique. Elena stifled another growl, not wishing to explore whether it was one born of anger or another, less welcome reaction.

"Good morning, E-le-na," he intoned with sultry musicality as he sauntered over to her station.

"You have a lot of nerve showing up here after what you did," she answered in a frustrated huff, crossing her arms over her chest – anything to hide her physical reaction to him.

He smirked. That outright jerk must have noticed. "What I did?" he asked, the picture of innocence as he clutched his chest in sardonic disbelief. "I'm just here to support the local educational establishment. Let it never be said that I don't give to charity."

"You?" Elena asked dubiously with a pointedly raised eyebrow.

"I'm the very essence of eleemosynary ideals, Elena," he mock-scoffed, looking scandalized, though the growing grin on his face told a different story.

"How sesquipedalian of you," she deadpanned sarcastically, trying her very best - and failing - to hide the smile that rose on her face. She always seemed to be smiling when she was with him.

"What? You clearly know how to read, per our little impromptu book club," he pressed, then wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, "which I'm happy to continue at any time, in a moreintimateatmosphere. The stacks in our library are nice and insulated – very soundproof," he leaned in to whisper in her ear, satisfied when her breath became shakier, goosebumps sprinkling her skin.

Fighting against her very obvious arousal, Elena grabbed a rag, pasted a giant grin on her face, and turned to Damon with faux cheer and layered sarcasm. "Well! Might as well make yourself useful!" she chirped, shoving the wet and soapy rag into his chest.

He only laughed in return, taking the offending object and tossing it aside. "Nah, my charitable contribution is letting the sadly deprived denizens of Mystic Falls gaze at sexy perfection, for once." He snuck a look about the space, smug to note that he had the undivided attention of the bulk of the women present, and a good chunk of the men. If there was one passive activity Damon Salvatore loved, it was being ogled. "Aaaaand, that's enough altruism for today. Enjoy Little Miss Miss Mystic Falls, Elena," he said with a wink, savoring her name like long-held forbidden desire, and sauntered away, making sure to look back and catch her glance of utmost frustration.

And it was only frustration with his behavior, she told herself. Absolutely nothing else. That was it.

Chapter 10: You'd Be Remiss if you Miss or Dismiss Little Miss Miss Mystic Falls, Miss!

Chapter Text

Late September 2009

As soon as Damon sauntered away like the obnoxious provocateur he was, Caroline wasted little time in immediately jumping to Elena's side.

"Was that Damon?" the head cheerleader asked perkily, subconsciously grooming herself with a few quick strokes through her hair in case Damon was still around somewhere, observing.

He wasn't.

"Yep," Elena replied uncomfortably, almost successfully convincing herself that said discomfort had everything to do with the secret of Damon's supernatural status that she was now keeping from Caroline, and not at all the physiological and emotional – no,justphysiological, yep, that's it, onlythat – response she had to the vampire in question.

Since when did Elena operate on pure lust that wasn't rooted in emotion? Both Caroline and Anna made fun of her inability to compartmentalize enough, with Anna being admittedly impressed with Caroline's proficiency with separating love from sex with apparent ease. At least Bonnie had the decency come to her defense against her friend's uproarious, though admittedly good-natured, cackles.

Wait a minute? Since when did she even admit to feeling lust for that jackass? No, it was just frustration, because he's an obnoxious ass.

"So," Caroline fished, studying Elena's face for any change in micro-expression, while telling herself that she would absolutely need to develop this skill as a broadcast journalist, so this was purely for professional purposes and not at all for juicy gossip and the chance to jump into the Mystic Falls' resident hottie's pants. Oh, who was she kidding? "Damon seemed to be looking a lot better."

"Yeah!" Elena exclaimed with nervous cheer. "He's cured! Isn't that fantastic news?"

Caroline narrowed her eyes. That was a little too easy, which probably meant that Elena was hiding something. Nice try, 'Lena, she thought. If Damon's recovery wasn't the day's biggest news, then what was? "Great!" she chirped. "I can't wait to bring over some congratulatory cupcakes after school! I'll bake some this weekend."

It took nearly all of Elena's willpower to stifle her growl, which she had to admit took her by complete surprise. For a brief nanosecond, she couldn't hold back a fantasy of ripping Caroline's pretty, blonde hair out and –

Wait, where did that come from? No, she wasn't jealous. Calm, calm, calm.

"I think that's a great idea," Elena concurred with forced politeness. "Hey!" she thought fast. "Maybe Stefan will be there, too. I heard he was staring at you in History." Lie. Desperate lie.

"Really?" Caroline asked in a tone that rapidly shifted from dubious to hopeful.

"That's what I heard," Elena shrugged helplessly, now trying to shed the responsibility of the lie and any of its potential consequences, praying that Caroline would just let this go. Maybe she could talk to Stefan and convince him of Caroline's virtues? Yes, she would do that, because she's a good friend. That's the only reason. It had absolutely nothing to do with the scary, lethal fantasy rage that nearly consumed her several seconds prior. At all.

Caroline looked so nervous, so vulnerable at the news. Her arms squeezed her own torso in an effort to comfort her vulnerability. "I just …"want to be chosen, she thought, trailing off. She sighed, collecting herself. "I hope you're right. Now, what are you standing around for? These cars won't wash themselves!" Caroline was back in girl-boss mode, which meant extracurriculars, grades, achievement – with her eye on the Miss Mystic Falls crown next.

It was Ivies or bust.

Maybe then she would finally feel like she's enough.

Early October

Elena and Anna sat across from a positively bewildered – and even terrified – Bonnie at the quarry. They decided that it was best to get the proverbial show on the road – before they were too overwhelmed with frustration at having to judge the misogynistic monstrosity later that night – and ease Bonnie into Anna's secret, with hopes to bring her on board to help within a matter of days.

"What do you mean you're a vampire?" the witch asked, for possibly the tenth time, aghast. "Vampires don't exist!"

"And yet, you just set a car on fire," Anna sassed with an air of unbothered normalcy, which in and of itself was enough to drive Bonnie further into discomforted confundity. "If witches exist, why can't vampires?"

"Okay, you've got a point," Bonnie reasoned, not even remotely comforted.

Seeing this, Elena took her friend's hands in her own. "Hey, Bonnie, we're here for you. You know we're your friends."

It was a strategy the girls discussed before the talk. Anna would provide the exposition; and Elena, the comfort. The topic itself was wild enough that its delivery had to be at least somewhat controlled, lest it spin out catastrophically. Grimly, Anna noted that Bonnie's grandmother might see the situation very differently, so they had to tread carefully.

"Is this why I always sensed death around you, Anna? Because you're technically – dead?" Bonnie asked, still uncomfortable, though becoming strangely acclimated to the information. She couldn't quite explain why, but it was as though the molecules inside her sang with truth. Is this the Nature of which her Grams spoke – the magic that all Bennett witches worship?

Anna only shrugged mischievously in response. "Have you done anything cool yet?" she instead decided to ask, feeling a change of topic was in order.

"Not a lot – I made some predictions, and I made feathers float!" Bonnie said excitedly, then winced when she remembered her accidental car flambe from that morning, inwardly grumbling thatHarry Potterabsolutely failed to convey just how terrifying accidental magic could really be. "And you know the rest."

"Magical accidents are totally common when a witch comes into her power," Anna explained insightfully. "Nothing out of the ordinary happened. You just need training. I'm assuming your grandmother is doing it?"

"Yeah, Grams has been trying to get me to acknowledge this for years, but my dad was always against it," Bonnie replied growing increasingly more comfortable – practically shining with relief. "You have no idea how good it feels to actually be able to talk about this with friends," she admitted quietly. "I thought I was going crazy for a while – that Grams went crazy ages ago. But – can you tell me more? About witches?"

"Yeah, sure," Anna replied, a bit surprised. She always assumed that Bennett witches revolved the bulk of their lives around magic practically since birth – to hear that Bonnie's father tried to keep her from developing her gift was a shock, to say the least. Didn't he realize how connected witches were to the source of their magic – how they needed it like breathing, the very air in their lungs, the ether of their souls?

Magic was everything to a witch. To prohibit its flow in any way was almost inhumane, not unlike a slow death of the soul.

At least Bonnie had her grandmother in her corner, Anna reasoned, but it seemed like quite the battle.

"Witches and vampires don't typically get along," Anna said with a wince, "but you're my friend, and I don't want what we are to come between us –"

"Of course not!" Bonnie interrupted, appalled that Anna would think that she'd stop being her friend just because of her species. Was that the correct term? "If I stopped talking to you because of what you are, what would that make me?"

"Bonnie's not a bigot," Elena said confidently, taking each of their hands to bridge any gaps between them, a show of unity. "There's no need to worry."

"Yeah, it's not like you kill anyone," Bonnie pressed, desperate in her hope that she intuited her friend's nature correctly. "Do you?" she asked nervously.

"Not unless I have to," Anna admitted, wondering how to steer this conversation while technically avoiding lying – if only by omission. Telling a budding Bennett witch about all the scary parts of vampirism during her 'coming out' probably wasn't the wisest course of action. "I'm over five hundred, so my control's pretty excellent. Most of us just want to live our lives. It's usually the newbie edge-lord vamps that come into town, swinging their big manhood-compensations around to make a statement. It's all kind of gauche and pathetic – and attracts the exact wrong kind of attention."

"What kind is that?" Elena asked, by now having her role as comforter being steadily caught up by her innate curiosity.

"Vampire hunters. Trust me, you don't want the town swarming with them. A lot of them are pretty obsessive, and don't really consider collateral damage high on their priority list," Anna explained, knowing that human safety was probably the most important aspect of keeping a vampire hunter away to the girls – though Anna admittedly had different concerns, but they didn't need to know that yet. "A smart vampire knows how to keep a low profile."

"Is that why you came to town? Because your old home became overrun with vampire hunters?" Bonnie asked astutely, recalling a strange conversation she had with her Grams about an ancient witch and the generational curse she put on five bloodlines to do her bidding over the millennia. At the time, she thought it was delirious rambling, but now it almost made an eerie sort of sense.

"Not exactly, though your logic is pretty solid," Anna replied, knowing that the moment of truth was at hand. "I'm in town to free my mom. It can only happen when the Lamia comet is overhead," she said with finality, knowing that the incompleteness of her statement was almost certain to draw inquiries. "And that's where you come in, Bon," she said in a hushed whisper, her face awash with trepidation Bonnie had never seen before on her normally somewhat-guarded, snarky friend. "I need your help."

"Why me?" Bonnie asked, taken aback, feeling her heart palpitate as the magic coursed through her. It whispered to her, though she was remiss in understanding its message, as before. All she could identify was a feeling – an importance.

"You're a Bennett witch. The original spell was cast by your ancestor, Emily, when she saved my mother and others from being burned in Fell's Church by opening the passage to the tomb underneath and sealing them inside. Only her descendant can break the seal, Bonnie – only her descendant can help save my mom," Anna supplied, fierce intensity shining in her dark eyes.

"The Battle of Willow Creek – the one we learned about in class…" Bonnie breathed, training off as her eyes widened at the implications.

"Was about vampires, after all," Elena finished for her, speaking for the first time since Anna began her explanation. The moment felt like one that should be shared between Anna and Bonnie, she reasoned, and she was mostly here for emotional support – which she was certain would be needed once the implications become more apparent, threatening to send Bonnie into emotional shock.

"But … I'm just a novice witch," Bonnie explained. I can barely move feathers. How can I unlock an ancient seal?" Bonnie asked desperately. "Maybe if I ask Grams –"

"If we could convince your grandmother to help, that would be amazing," Anna offered, though her tone was mired with uncertainty. "She might be skeptical about releasing starving vampires, but I can vouch that I won't let them hurt anyone," she added with a lot more confidence than she felt. Would she really be able to stop them? Quite a few of them were innocent – with some even kind, like Harper – and hardly deserved the fate they suffered for the previous century and a half. But then there were others, like Fredrick and Bethann – steeped in cruelty and malice. She doubted she'd be able to convince them to restrain their worst instincts.

But then again, who was she to judge whether they lived or died?

Someone who had people she cared about directly in their projected path of violence. Okay, so maybe she wouldn't rescue Fredrick and Bethann. But what if they changed?

This was a problem for another day, Anna reasoned with an inward groan. One step at a time, with the current being the effort to convince Bonnie to help. And by the looks of things, they had at least one Bennett witch on their side.

But would Bonnie's power be enough for such a gargantuan task?

"How the hell did they manage to swing this in a week?" Elena grumbled in her seat at the worst contest she'd ever been forced to attend in her life, while her fingers squeezed and mauled and released every ounce of negativity she felt on the brochure advertising the event in question.

Somehow, Little Miss Miss Mystic Falls not only managed to find enough contestants to make this debacle possible within an absurdly short time span, but the entire Founders Council simply outdid themselves in decorating Lockwood Manor, the setting of the event.

The surprisingly balmy early October weather allowed the pageant to be hosted outdoors, bringing attention to the lush fall foliage adorning the garden's many towering trees.

The tables were set with adorable little plushies serving as centerpieces, while brightly colored confetti and glass ornaments lined the walls, sprinkled to the brim with eye-catching glitter.

The girls grimaced as they pawed their similarly glitter-adorned programs, knowing that the tiny, vividly-shaded specks of shimmering, coated aluminum may as well be branded into their clothing forever – or at least a dozen washes.

"Compulsion," Anna replied dryly. "The entire Council's been compelled – not even they are this stupid and outdated. This place is careening toward becoming the biggest laughingstock in the nation," she hissed, already suspecting that a certain someone would slyly sneak footage of it to eager news outlooks just jonesing to take the mickey out of their town.

Someone who probably didn't plan to stay there past next week, Anna growled internally, while keeping a carefully neutral expression on her face.

Before Elena could respond, the contestants were ushered onto the makeshift stage, each dressed in a juvenile interpretation of a period ensemble, which Anna strongly suspected was deliberately arranged just to set her teeth on edge. It was practically a carefully-curated concoction of everything she hated the most – child exploitation; a patriarchal lean on outdated gender roles; and glorification of the antebellum lifestyle without acknowledging the ugliness that made it possible. The fact that she unequivocally knew that Damon shared at least the latter sentiment with her meant that his commitment to pissing her the f*ck off was that strong.

What a dick.

"Hello, girls!" announced Peggy Fell, one of Mystic Falls' own ladies-who-lunch, into a microphone. The perfectly manicured nails and sharply raised eyebrow above a frozen sneer bespoke of a life of luxurious elitism that came with being a proud Founding Family member and enjoying its every ignorant privilege.

The aforementioned sneer was generally aimed at those she deemed to be of 'lower class' – her employees, who she claimed couldn't grasp the concept of 'service with a smile,' and should just be happy to have a job at all; the children of the less affable townsfolk, at whom she occasionally managed to pull a tight grimace-bordering-on-sneer when attempting a smile in public, while regaling her fellow Founding Femmes, as they liked to call themselves, with the moral inadequacies that come with 'breeding with such inferior stock'; her sharp, hazel eyes, scrutinizing and judging the 'dregs' of Mystic Falls, while falling into a dramatic near-feint, lamenting 'what's happened to us? Just when did we stop caring about the things that matter?'

The somewhat glassy look in her eye, however, suggested that her forthcoming speech was at least partially compelled, so Anna couldn't wait to hear the onslaught of gems she'd produce. "Please come forward and introduce yourselves to your judges – and be sure to tell our dear, sweet Anna and Elena just why they're your heroes."

An adorable toddler dressed in an outfit that could have belonged to Katherine Pierce waddled forth, bright scarlet lips in a beaming grin, eager to gain approval from the audience at large. "Hi!" she beamed. "My name is Annabelle Mills," the sweet girl continued gushing, as Anna narrowed her eyes at the name. "And my dream is to be pretty like you so all boys like me! And –"

"Uuuh," Anna interrupted, visibly uncomfortable. "Annabelle," she said awkwardly, clearing her throat. "There's so much more you can achieve in life than just being pretty and well-liked by others," she continued gently. "For example, you can become the Preside –"

"You're right, Anna! Did you hear that, girls?" chirped Peggy Fell, interrupting Anna's attempt at undoing some of the damage with a forcefully loud intrusion into her microphone. "Being pretty is the most important thing in the world! How else would she ever get anyone to love her? You all want to be worthy of love, right?"

Elena and Anna groaned in their seats, sliding evermore downward, just desperate to disappear as contestant after contestant came forth to deliver a soul-piercing soliloquy –at least the toddler version of one – about their goals to essentially reduce their value to their looks and popularity.

It was like a 1950s dystopian hellscape.

The worst part was that every time Elena or Anna tried to gently disabuse the girls of the notion, they would smile, agree, and carry on with their previous monologue, guided by a member of the Council.

No, not even the Founding Femmes – in all their reductive glory – would come up with something so obvious. It was pretty obvious who the culprit behind this disaster was.

And as if summoned, the self-satisfied form of Damon Salvatore casually strolled onto the scene, wearing a magnanimous smile that Elena was relatively sure was part of his act and scheme to embarrass their town.

He calmly took a microphone from Carol Lockwood before smiling charmingly at the girls, his face alight with kindness. At least he was a halfway decent actor, Anna scoffed.

"You're so much more than that, girls. It's perfectly fine to want to be pretty, because all of you are. But much more important, is inner beauty – being kind to others. And all of you are worth so much more than just a Little Miss Miss Mystic Falls crown," he chuckled good-naturedly. "Who came up with that clunky title?" Damon asked, to a round of giggles from the contestants and laughter from attendees, following by piercing glares from the two head judges.

f*cking jackass, Elena inwardly steamed.

"Why don't we make the next round the following? We each stand in a circle, and move clockwise, saying something kind about the person to our right – and the girl with the kindest compliment wins the round," he suggested to eager nods from all involved, including of course the compelled hosts.

Elena and Anna could easily see a camera crew now that was obscured previously, no doubt due to paint Damon as the savior of the town's grace. At that moment, neither doubted that they'd ever felt more angry.

"Remember, girls, you're so much more than the patriarchy deems you to be! Each one of you could be the President," he said, sending a directed smirk to Anna, "or a doctor, or scientist, or astronaut, or write a Nobel Prize-winning novel. You can be and do anything you can imagine!" he concluded to a round of applause, and a mocking smile and wink to Elena and Anna.

He left the stage immediately afterward, and it appeared the compulsions must have met the condition to no longer be active, as well, because Peggy at least stopped interrupting Anna and Elena when they suggested something less-than-misogynistic to the girls.

Finally, it was time to break before crowning the winner, which gave the unwilling judges a few minutes respite before the final leg of the day's torment. That meant that a certain confrontation was finally in order, Elena thought with harrowed eyes. While Anna was busy trying to fix this mess and hopefully remove any shred of their identities from this monstrosity should Damon make good on his implied threat to have the pageant's footage find its way to national news outlets, Elena opted for a more straightforward approach.

Elena barreled toward her object of simultaneous rage and desi – nope, just rage – with all the fury of a tidal wave encroaching on an unassuming shore.

Except the particular 'shore' in question was a smug snake, sipping bourbon off to the side while fending off what could kindly be called sexual harassment by the Founding Femmes, though he didn't seem to entirely mind. Upon seeing her, he quickly excused himself and walked out of the room to afford them the privacy that he was certain they'd need.

"You'd be remiss of you miss or dismiss Little MissMissMystic Falls, Miss," Elena read dryly from the program in her hand, hitting him in the chest with it for emphasis when she finally caught up to him. "I think that tagline just made my ears bleed."

"You might want to get that looked at. You humans are so fragile," he tutted, feigning concern with a shake of his head. "Bleeding ears, bleeding necks, bleeding hearts. It's like walking into a buffet where the food just begs to be eaten. All that temptation can't be good for a vampire watching his figure, Elena. You think it's easy being the Eternal Stud?"

Ignoring this obvious attempt to rile her, she instead focused on his other obvious attempt to rile her. "You were purposely trying to embarrass us – this whole town. Not even the Founding Families would have signed off on something so backward!"

Damon just shrugged, unaffected. "I hate this place."

Elena gasped, exasperated that he'd so easily and unapologetically admitted his guilt. "So, you subject these girls into being brainwashed by Mrs. Lockwood and her flock of elitist Karens into a shallow, mean, misogynistic nineteen-fifties nightmare?"

"Whaaat?" Damon asked with ever-widening baby blue eyes, the picture of innocence. "I thought you'd like this! Wasn't it you who assumed that my familiar was male just because you thought she had 'Doctor' in her name? I was just trying to cater to your tastes and beliefs," he asked in mock-concern, clutching his chest, before breaking into laughter. "Relax! I came to save the day, didn't I? Now the girls know that they're worth so much more than 'just being pretty like Anna and Elena' and that they don't have to 'kowtow to the patriarchy', either."

If it were humanly possible, Elena would have sworn that her jaw just hit the floor at his audacity. She struggled to speak for several whole moments, just making outraged little sounds while Damon's grin visibly grew wider and wider and wider. "I hate you," Elena grumbled. "You aresucha dick."

"Oh really?" he asked with a taunting wiggle of his eyebrows, mirth dancing in his gaze as he did that 'eye thing' that had a curious effect on her insides. "You know, that offer with the stacks still stands."

"Ijustsaid that I hate you, Damon, and that you're a dick," she deadpanned. "That isn't flirting."

"Hate is not the opposite of love, Elena. That's indifference," he revealed with a carefree wink.

Elena studied him for a few moments, her lips curving almost imperceptibly when she took in the full meaning of his words, proudly grasping at the opportunity to get one up on him. "So, when you say that you hate this place…" she trailed off in a voice considerably more flirtatious than she intended.

Damon allowed his features to relax into a carefree smile, at once annoyed and impressed by Elena turning his own words against him. "Nicely deduced. Mystic Falls and I have a … complicated relationship," he admitted. "But that's a story for another day," he followed with a sultry tone. "One I'd be very happy to discuss in the right setting."

"Would that setting afford not having either Anna or me attached to this patriarchal nightmare?" she demanded with a raise of both eyebrows.

Damon's only response was laughter for several long, nerve-wrecking moments. "You should have seen your faces," he chortled, before getting a hold of himself. "No, you don't have to worry. I just wanted to screw with Anna – even if I go public with this, your names or faces won't be attached to it in any way."

Elena bit her lip nervously, feeling a profound sense of pity for Mrs. Lockwood and her admittedly very mean friends. Even they didn't deserve this, however. "Any chance you could not go public with this?"

"Why not?" he scoffed. "Their entire inflated sense of self-worth is based on birth. Who gives a f*ck?"

"Their kids might! Some of them are my friends. If everyone starts making fun of their parents, how will that reflect on them?" Elena countered, crossing her arms over her chest, her chest heaving in excitement. It had been so long since she'd had this kind of passionate outburst with anyone. She felt so angry, and excited, and – stop it. She stifled their thoughts long before they reached their natural conclusion.

"Lots of people have sh*tty parents. I should tell you about mine sometime," he retorted lazily, choosing not to think about the content of his words, and instead inspecting some wall art as though showing even the slightest bit of concern for any of Mystic Falls' inhabitants caused him utmost boredom. The truth was that in his current state, he found the Council members to be irritating at most. He saw exactly what he expected when he rolled into town. Same spoiled, haughty group who considered themselves aristocracy lording over the perceived peasantry. Each one a blowhard and a bore, perhaps with the exception of Liz, he grudgingly admitted. Liz was pretty decent.

"Will you?" Elena breathed, her tone softening. She noticed the faraway haze in his eyes as soon as he said it, intuiting that his own family must be a painful subject for him. Her hand gently found its way to his forearm, his eyes jumping to hers in surprise – a brief bout of tenderness, vulnerability, and finally closed-off smugness yet again.

The mask returned almost as soon as it dropped, but she noticed.

Damon drew his eyebrows together in a frown, not expecting the conversation to take this tone at all as he felt another chunk fall out of the wall that desperately held back his humanity, the fire within it igniting as it roared to the surface whenever he was around this girl. She was dangerous. And he was admittedly to attracted to its allure.

Instead of following her preferred line of inquiry, however, he opted to return the conversation to its previous direction, allowing a smile to grace his lips. "You know how you take away someone's power, Elena? You turn them into a joke. Can't be afraid of someone if you're busy laughing at them."

The sparkle in her dark, expressive eyes matched the mischief in her rising smirk, needling him. "Are you afraid of Mrs. Lockwood and her posse, Damon? Do you need me to protect you?"

"I've been fighting off amorous advances my whole life," Damon stressed theatrically, the back of his hand dramatically resting on his forehead, earning a giggle from Elena, which he answered with a wink to her waiting blush. "No, but her staff might. I thought you modern, emancipated women were all about standing up for the rights of the working class," he teased, righting himself again.

"So, you do care!" Elena beamed, too happy with affirming her assumption about his character to properly take the bait. "I knew you were hiding a heart in there somewhere."

"No, I don't," he scoffed, scandalized at the notion, and then recovered with a suggestive grin. "But you're free to search me and try to prove me wrong."

Before she could properly reply, it was time for the crowning ceremony, and Damon promptly made himself scarce, having about enough of the pageant, the Founding Families, and everything associated with them – with the exception of perhaps two of its very grudging judges, whom he reluctantly admitted could be a lot of fun.

Although Elena was reticent to admit it, something about fencing with Damon – their own little dance that occasionally flirted with not-quite-yet affectionate banter – brought out a spirit and sass in her that she thought had been long-buried.

Perhaps for the first time since that awful May night, Elena felt alive.

Several hours, empty speeches, and the brink of a tension headache later, the girls found themselves by the lake on the Lockwood Estate grounds, laying on the grass and looking at the stars, trying to catch a modicum of energy after their profound mental exhaustion.

"We both need this after that nightmare," Anna groaned, producing several bottles of champagne proudly filtered from the Lockwood cellars, popping two and giving one to Elena.

Although the human girl was fully aware that drinking an entire bottle of the fizzy, alcoholic beverage was probably a bad idea, the night had done such a number on her nerves that nearly any distraction would be welcome, and champagne always put her into such a good mood.

Half an hour later, Elena was three-quarters into her Moet, while Anna was on her fifth – intoxicated enough that even her vampire constitution was affected.

"That f*cking bastard! That smug –" Anna cried, exasperated, only to be interrupted by a giggling Elena.

"We should get him back! He wants a prank war? We'll give him a prank war! He'll be sorry he never messed with us," Elena huffed righteously.

"And I know just the way," Anna countered slyly.

Elena perked up, sitting upright before a wave of dizziness suddenly took her over. "What's that?" she asked when it abated somewhat.

"The champagne isn't all I stole today," Anna revealed with a grin as she produced a bottle of Flintstones vitamins from her purse, shaking it for emphasis. "I stole these from one of the contestants. A little souvenir for Damon."

"What are we doing with it?" Elena slurred, reaching for the bottle to sneak one of her favorite treats from childhood, before Anna yanked it away upon intuiting her plans.

"Well," Anna stretched importantly, a languid grin sneaking onto her face as she drunkenly prepared to regale Elena with her brilliance. "I ran into one of Damon's one-night stands during the intermission while I tried to fix that whole mess," she began, ignoring the pained look on Elena's face at the mention of the source of her information. She'd have to get over it, Anna reasoned – a one-night stand is nothing compared to Katherine, and he'd probably leave town soon with Noah to look for her once he discovers that she was never in the tomb, anyway. The sooner, the better, as far as Anna was concerned. "She told me that he keeps some prized bottle of bourbon in his room. We're going to drop them inside!"

"Perfect!" Elena responded with a wicked grin of her own, barely pulling herself upright in her inebriated state. "That'll show him!"

The cackling girls made their way over to the Salvatore Boarding House to seek their revenge, all the while unaware of a certain corvid perched in a tree overhead, waiting to alert her humanoid of their impeding arrival.

Chapter 11: Dancing Around the Issue - Local Champions!

Chapter Text

If anyone else had been in the Boarding House when Damon's familiar made him aware of Elena and Anna's plan, they'd practically be able to hear him rolling his eyes. Flintstones vitamins in his bourbon. What a couple of amateurs. He took his prized bottle of bourbon – the oldest in the house – and hid it away before the drunken girls arrived to take their haphazard vengeance for what he considered to be a brilliant prank, if he said so himself.

He then found the compartment for his beloved and treasured bottle of Chateau Cheval Blanc 1950 and hid that away for good measure, too, even if he was relatively certain no one else knew of its existence.

Luckily, Stef was out serenading the squirrels with an emo blend of Poe, Eeyore, and probably some country song about how his hair gel left him with nothing but split ends, or whatever it is mopey little brothers did when they needed a boost in the self-righteousness, so he wouldn't be around to interrupt what Damon was increasingly confident would be a very entertaining evening.

He didn't have to wait long. Almost as soon as he secured his two beloved bottles, he heard a knock on the door and the telltale swoosh of a vampire arriving in his room through a window. Anna must be feeling pretty sloppy if he could hear her, he figured, given that she had a whole 400 years on him.

He strolled to the door languidly, casually, letting Elena's anticipation build. He'd gotten good at recognizing her heartbeat, the cadence and melody of her breaths – little signature signs that were uniquely her.

Opening the door quite suddenly, he let the growing smirk rest on his face a while before leaning against the doorframe and feigning perfectly sardonic shock. "Elena!? I didn't expect to see you here so soon."

Elena stood still for several whole seconds, the combination of the alcohol and adrenaline running through her body, bringing with no avoidance to her attention the laced affection of his smile, subtle shades within the spectrum of blue that were his eyes, the thick coat of raven lashes that framed them, making them impossibly alluring. She got lost for several moments that seemed to stretch into eons, just staring, before her consciousness seemingly careened back into her body full force and the lazy smile on her face became more purposeful, intended. "Hi!" she greeted cheerfully, walking inside before the vampire before her had a chance to extend an invitation. Yeah, she didn't expect to be back so soon, either. And it's not like she and Anna came up with a plan. 'Distract Damon,' Anna said, Elena inwardly scoffed, mentally mocking her vampiric friend's tone. Right now, Elena was the one desperately distracted.

This was certainly a quick turn-around from 'stay away from Damon,' Elena thought wryly. The champagne must have affected Anna more than she thought.

Damon had a stifle a chuckle as Elena wobbled in, lacking any air of subtlety or flair. It was really adorable. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he purred, enjoying her reactions. Any subtext of her obvious attraction had made a clear and unequivocal leap into 'text,' because she hadn't a prayer of hiding it in her current state, and he couldn't resist needling her a bit, if only for his own amusem*nt, and definitely to tease her about it later.

Elena released a shaky breath as he approached her, a hint of a smirk languishing on his face as he co*cked his head to the side to study her, enjoying her physiological reaction to his closeness – her dilated pupils, her racing heartbeat, the heady scent of arousal only discernible by a vampire's olfactory prowess. He knew that anything she tried desperately to hide – even from herself – during any other time in their interactions would be out in the open now.

Watching her try to wiggle out of what she was clearly craving was going to be fun.

Her gaze flickered to his lips for several seconds longer than she would normally allow, and only ran away to stare at the wall behind him when she saw his grin widen in response.

Elena swallowed, her breath releasing in fitful clusters, hushed and booming all at once to her ears. She could practically feel her heart beating out of her chest. He was so close, almost touching her. She shut her eyes, willing the feelings to go away. She'd never wanted anyone so much. Her gaze rebelliously wandered to his lips again, and she couldn't stop herself from wondering if they were indeed as soft as they looked – what it would be like to kiss him.

Of its own volition, her hand found his, squeezing it briefly, then letting her thumb trace patterns along his fingers as she struggled to regain an ounce of sanity. She pulled him closer, and he let her.

What was she doing? She couldn't understand her own behavior. This was so unlike her.

Why, oh why, did she allow Anna to ply with her champagne?

She then mentally rolled her eyes at her own question. It's not like she put up any resistance – after the evening they had, practically any emotional buffer would suffice.

"There was a reception after the pageant," she breathed, marveling at the closeness, subconsciously inhaling deeply in an effort feel his breath, his scent, his essence – close enough to kiss. Her eyes briefly found his lips again, then returned to his eyes, and she was lost again. "I wanted –"

"You came here for a dance?" he asked with undisguised amusem*nt.

"I only came to tell you that you missed dancing," she corrected, knocking herself of her stupor, her tone matching the teasing note of his, forcibly injecting some sass into her demeanor before she did something stupid like lean forward, and ... "The Founding Femmes nearly started a riot without their favorite arrogant jackass around."

"Can't have that," he retorted sultrily, wrapping an arm around her waist, swaying to a melody that couldn't be heard, but had to be felt. "In a town this size, that might've gotten even more attention than my display of brilliance earlier tonight."

Elena narrowed her eyes. "Maybe we should have just let them fight it out over their sexy boytoy."

"Sexy, am I?" he asked with a sultry lilt to his voice.

"Of course, that would be your takeaway. I forgot your ego has its own gravitational field," she snarked as her tipsiness forced her to lose her footing, and she crashed into his chest.

"Gravityisa force of attraction, Elena," Damon smirked as he caught her, watching her instantly spring upright again. "Thanks for demonstrating basic physics. Might want to give Stef a lesson. I hear he's been stalking unsuspecting girls in the park and subjecting them to bad comet analogies again. Next thing you know, he'll be asking for zodiac signs."

Elena smiled, having narrowly avoided Stefan during comet night when he saw her with Anna, and promptly beelined in the opposite direction. She wondered precisely what her friend said to him to make him so petrified if approaching her in her presence.

"Does he do that a lot?"

"Only if he's finally managed to outsmart all the wascally wabbits in our woods. Gives him confidence enough to pull out his rolodex of cliches," he smirked, taking a chance to spin her again, albeit slower this time. He'd be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he enjoyed the closeness, the way his own undead heart sped up in her presence, which he grudgingly had to admit had absolutely nothing to do with her resemblance to his sire. Elena laughed at his joke as she allowed herself to be gathered back into his arms, and his heart seized at the twinkling sound, his own smile joining hers without will or prompting, all on its own. While a part of him resented how comfortable she was in his presence, another reveled in it – yearned for it.

As the remnants of the laughter in her voice escaped into the night, Elena allowed her expressive doe-eyes to trail up to his. She bit her lip, gathering her courage – knowing the social lubricant in her system was giving her wings. "You want me to think your ego's huge, because you're hiding something."

"You mean aside from a chiseled set of fangs?" he snarked, wrapping his arms around her from behind, to spin her outward, eliciting giggling delight.

"You hide behind your wit and your charm, like everything's a joke to you. But I think whatever's inside that you're keeping locked away is even more special, Damon," she breathed, when he pulled her close again. "I've seen glimpses of him when you weren't looking," she leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. "He gave me vervain and talked to me about books. And he told a group of girls that they didn't have to stick to Founding Family mores - that they can break free from what Mrs. Lockwood and Mrs. Fell and their whole posse want to mold them into. That they can -"

"All that was just to get a rise out of you both and make you look bad," he interrupted with a sharp roll of his eyes.

"Was it?" she asked seriously, a hint of dubiousness slick in her tone, her gaze piercing into his.

At times, when she looked at him – spoke to him – it was almost as if she could see the man behind the carefully-constructed persona he projected. Both the charmer and the monster fell away, and all that was left was Damon. There were these moments, where it seemed like in her almost naïve display of empathy, she reached out to cradle his heart in her hands.

With a gentle touch, soothing it, healing it, nurturing it as though it were special.

He shook the feeling away as quickly as it came.

"I'm an open book, Elena," he lied with a practiced roll of his eyes. "What you see is what you get."

"And here I thought you weren't a liar," she sassed, the laughter in her eyes matching her rising smirk. "Or maybe I'm not the one you're lying to."

"So does drunk Elena turn into an armchair psychologist?" Damon teased, desperate to change the subject.

"Not normally," she frowned. "Champagne usually makes me happy, giggly, want to dance," she elaborated, gesturing between them. "Maybe you just have this effect on me" she grinned.

"Trying to peel away my 'outer layers,' Elena?" he snarked with mirth in his voice, setting her up for another spin. "If you want to see me naked, all you have to do is ask. No need for all this metaphorical pretense.

In the heady combination at her emotional and physiological response to his words, his presence, Elena tripped over her feet again, lamenting not for the first time that she was normally a fantastic dancer, and maybe she should have taken it a bit easier on the alcohol consumption.

"Whoa – easy there, Isadora Duncan," Damon sassed with a charmed grin as Elena crashed into him again. "Not that I'm not used to beautiful women falling all over me, but I think your happy feet need a bit of a recharge," he prompted, guiding her over to the island in the kitchen and helping her onto a stool. "What are you in the mood for?" he asked, handing her a glass of water as he rummaged through the 'fridge.

"Is that … blood?" Elena asked, the shock of seeing the dark, red liquid casually stored away in Tupperware – the touch of domesticity in direct contradiction to the jarring contents.

"Oh yeah," Damon snickered. "Stef's rodent collection for every day, and avian when he needs some extra pep in his step tosoar like an eagle," he expressed with a sardonic flair for drama, pantomiming words by waving his hand across the room. "Of course, in his case, it'd be more like a terminally-aggrieved pigeon. You are what you eat!" he sang lightly.

Elena fought to keep her voice from trembling as she leaned forward, the liquid courage in her system guiding her to ask questions she would have normally avoided. "Where's yours?"

Damon only smirked in response with a subtle lift of his brows. "Right where I want it to be," he replied sultrily, avoiding the question – or perhaps not avoiding it at all, Elena thought with a shiver. He studied her for a moment, before laying both hands flat on the table between them, leaning forward as his face reached for hers as though by the force of gravity. "I'd quit cheerleading if I were you," he said, keeping his voice light.

"Why do you say that?" she asked, taken aback by the abrupt change in subject.

"Oh, I saw you at practice. You looked miserable," he cajoled, though there was an underlying current of sincerity.

"You saw that?" she breathed. He'd stopped by briefly to speak to Anna a week prior. He couldn't have looked at her for more than a minute or two. How? How did he notice, when almost no one else did? How did he manage to see that - to see her?

"Am I wrong?" he challenged.

"I used to love it," she reluctantly admitted. "It was fun. Things are different this year. Everything that used to matter doesn't anymore."

"So don't let it. Quit. Move on. Problem solved. Ta-da!" he countered playfully, tapping both hands on the table and drawing a reticent giggle from her before she calmed.

"Some things could matter again," she argued.

"Maybe... but, seems a little unrealistic to me," he supplied almost apologetically.

"Why do you do that?" she frowned.

"Why do I do what?"

"Why don't you let people see the good in you? Why do you pretend to be scarier than you are? Like you want me to be afraid of you, only to follow up with -" being able to truly see me, she wanted to say, before she was interrupted.

He clenched his jaw. For a second, he entertained the idea of opening up to her - of explaining that when people see good, they expect good, and he didn't want to live up to those expectations - feared that he couldn't. But no. Going that route just invited her more - let her deeper inside, and she had already become way too good at finding the small cracks in his armor, and flowing inside like warm water than soothed his very soul. "I am scary, and you should be afraid. I'm a vampire, Elena."

"If you really posed any danger to me – if you wanted to hurt me – you would have taken my blood when I offered it to you. You wouldn't have danced with me just now – you would have just taken what you wanted," she argued, growing annoyed by his stubbornness.

"What makes you think this isn't what I want?" he asked, trying to inject some malice into his tone. "What makes you think I didn't? I was the one who gave you the vervain. Maybe Stef was telling the truth, and it is fake. How do you know you're not just an amusing puppet to me, Elena?"

"Because – you didn't," she insisted, not knowing entirely why – just an ardent feeling that she couldn't shake. "I know you didn't," she added, with more confidence. "Stop being so… difficult. You act like I should be afraid of you one minute, and then you flirt the next, and then you do something really sweet like dance with me and offer me dinner when I'm obviously too drunk to stay upright," she insisted, perhaps a bit too loudly, and Damon had to wonder if the argument was directed at him alone, or also at the vampire upstairs.

Inside, however, something bloomed deeply in his chest at the notion of someone believing in him – at seeing him – seeing the good in him.

He'd had enough. Her tenacious hold on him was becoming entirely too much to handle – his switch was practically begging to not only flip fully toward humanity but disintegrate entirely, never to function again – not while she was around. It's like she gripped his humanity like a vice, dragging it ever forward, and he was helpless to stop her. He had to act fast.

"You're so sure about that," he deadpanned.

"I am!" she cried, happy to finally make some headway.

"Remember those two animal attacks from a few weeks ago? The couple killed right outside of town?" he asked with an almost mocking innocence.

"Yeah?" she replied impatiently, not sure why he decided to bring them up. Was it just another desperate attempt to change the subject.

"I killed them," he shrugged with an indifference that was almost obnoxious in its sheer gall.

"Why!?" she asked, flabbergasted as she struggled to sit upright on her stool, becoming wobbly from the combination of the champagne coursing through her system and the piercing onslaught of his words.

"Because I'm a vampire, Elena," he replied in the tone of someone stating the very obvious.

"But Anna said that killing isn't necessary, and that it's careless. Because you could draw hunters," she cried desperately, going for the practical approach first.

"I wanted Stef out of the way for when I rescued Katherine," he shrugged indifferently, grabbing a blueberry from the basket he took out of the refrigerator to place on the table in front of her and popping it into his mouth like he was discussing the weather. "He'd run, or the hunters would get him after I left. I didn't really care much."

Elena instantly deflated, her hands trembling at the memories that forced their way into her mind - the recurrent nightmares she'd had with crushing consistency since late May. Those people had families who loved them – that mourned them. That now felt as she did. "Couldn't there have been another way?"

"Probably," Damon shrugged. "But this was the easiest one, and the most fun."

"But – but, what if someone sent them out to buy something? Or someone encouraged that outing? Do you have any idea what they'd be going through? How they'd mourn them? How they'd blame themselves?" she replied before she could stop herself, the words tumbling forth of their own accord.

"Doing an awful lot of projecting there, Elena. How do you even know anyone cares about them at all?" he retorted with a thoughtful frown, tilting his head to the side to study her.

"How do you know someone doesn't?" she shot back.

"I don't really care," he supplied, satisfied that his words finally appeared to be having the desired effect. Good. Now she would leave and want nothing to do with him.

Elena reeled back, practically folding in on herself on the stool. She bit her lip to keep it from quivering. She took a shaky breath, blinking through the tears suddenly pooling in her eyes. Elena came closer, placing her hands on Damon's arms. "Just put yourself in their shoes. What if someone you cared about was killed by a vampire?" she asked breathlessly. "Or a vampire hunter?" she added as an afterthought.

Damon swallowed the lump in his throat, unable to stop the tumult of images that suddenly assailed his mind – of Elena lying lifeless, blood gushing from her neck – the eyes that gazed at him with such openness and empathy and teasing mirth, empty and unblinking. "I'd kill them."

"And would that take away the pain of Katherine's death?" she asked, though it felt like shards of ice were impaled into her very veins at the recollection that he loved someone who looked exactly like her – that it was Katherine that he was seeing when he looked deep into her eyes.

Damon was quiet for several long moments as he fought to gather himself, school a wryly nonchalant expression back into place as he wrestled with the notion that it wasn't Katherine that he immediately envisioned. He rolled his eyes melodramatically, and let his smirk widen. "Fiine! If you're going to make such a spectacle out of it, I'll try to kill a little less – just for you."

The tension in Elena's body released in a laugh, and her own matching eyeroll. "Your sacrifice and commitment to the preservation of life is truly inspiring."

"My acts of charity only extend to showing off this," he gestured ostentatiously up and down his body, "display of perfection to the deprived denizens of Mystic Falls. For not killing," he inflected up, pretending to think as he tapped his chin playfully in contemplation, "I want something in return."

"What?" she asked dubiously, playfulness finally returning to her tone.

"An invitation!" he announced, cutting up some eggplant that he'd fished out of his refrigerator to fry into stalks. If he had more time, he'd be able to show off some of the culinary skills he'd accrued over the last century and a half, but at least he'd be able to smugly feed her obsession, thanks to the knowledge his familiar generously bestowed.

"Absolutely not!" she replied heatedly, flailing her arms in opposition, though she couldn't hide the longing gaze at the eggplant, which he noticed in satisfaction.

"Why not? My 'Living Audition for Mope Island' brother has one," he scoffed in a way that he sincerely hoped sounded airy, breezy, and not at all pouty.

"Yeah, because we're doing a group project together, and it was my turn to host! Besides, were we all supposed to meet here? So that our human classmates could see yours and Stefan's blood in the 'fridge?" she vaguely gestured at the vessel hosting the offending Tupperware.

"Blood in the 'fridge? That's all Stef's." he repeated with exaggerated incomprehension, as though he found the very notion baffling. "Why would I keep gross, refrigerated blood when it's so warm and satisfying right where it is?" he leered with a suggestive wink, his gaze focused on her neck.

She rolled her eyes on the most ostentatious way she could, though she couldn't resist the heat rising in her cheeks. Time to change the subject back to something safe. "There's no way I'm inviting you in, Damon," he insisted. "No, absolutely not. After that stunt you pulled with the kiddie pageant, I don't even want to imagine what you'll do with full access to my room."

"And what do you think I'll do?" he asked in a manner that just hinted at a dark sensuality.

“I’m serious! I’m not inviting you in, Damon,” Elena huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Why not?” Damon smirked.

"You've made your designs on my diary perfectly clear! What's to stop you from stealing it and … and … publishing it on the school website?" unwilling to be taken in by what she was certain was a distraction.

Damon laughed. “A vampire invited in your house could do a lot worse than steal and publish your diary, Elena,” he retorted with a raised eyebrow. “Besides, I could just compel a bunch of humans to break in, ransack your house, and bring me your diary for my publication pleasure.”

“But you won’t!” Elena jabbed her index finger at him in an excited manner. “You won’t because it lacks your ‘finesse’ and you like your doucheyness to come in artful packages.”

Charmed, Damon couldn't fight the rising, genuine smile on his face, then scrutinized her for a few long moments, reluctantly admitting to himself that this was probably the most enjoyable evening he'd had in ages, and if he had to fully commit to being honest with himself, he'd like to have more of them. Or as many as he could squeeze in before he rescued Katherine and left town, an idea that was becoming less appealing by the second.

"Fine, an amendment then." He walked over to her, taking her shoulders in his hands. "I want you to start keeping more vervain on you, in different parts of your person. Maybe start drinking it, too."

"Damon," Elena sighed. "My best friend is a vampire. What if she gets hurt?"

"Then she can carry a blood bag."

"Which can go bad. What if it's an emergency, and a hunter attacks her and –"

"Elena," he interrupted, his voice serious. "Anna is a lot more durable than you are. I promise you that she'll fare a lot better against a hunter than you would a vampire who wants to hurt you. Drink the damn vervain."

"I thought you said you didn't care about us humans," Elena teased, with a blush starting to rise to her cheeks.

"You're entertaining, and I like having you around – for now," he replied with a teasing air, deftly avoiding the accusation, before turning back to her, his voice suddenly serious -urgent, almost vulnerable. "What you said before – I just need you to know that what happened with your parents was not your fault." Her eyes were downcast, unable to meet his. He placed a finger under her chin lift it, guiding her gaze. "Elena…"

"I wasn't talking about me," she replied brokenly, by now unable to stop the onslaught of tears. "I was just being objective."

"It's a small town, Elena. The local gossip mill only has so much to talk about. I know what happened on the night we met in May," he said softly, his lips curving into a gently teasing smile. "And your belated Beltane party."

"Then you also know it's all my fault," she shot back, almost angry at him for defending her. "I wasn't even supposed to be there that night – I snuck out, and I called them, and now –"

Before he even realized what he was doing, he had her wrapped in his arms, letting the cloth of his shirt on his shoulder absorb her cascade of tears. One arm was wrapped tightly around her waist, while the other drew comforting patterns on her back, alternating with stroking her hair. He whispered mantras into her ear about it not being her fault that he doubted she registered or even heard as her body trembled in his arms from silent sobs that she desperately tried to stifle.

His switch all but destroyed, everything in his heart connected to her. He needed her to see that it wasn't her fault. He needed her to feel better, to stop punishing herself so severely.

"Elena it was an accident," he finally spoke, when her sobs began to subside.

"Jeremy's an orphan because of me – and Jenna had to uproot her life," she insisted, not hearing him.

"Elena –"

"I destroy everything I touch," she chocked bitterly, interrupting him, pushing him away. "You'd be much better off – I would just screw up –"

Damon's heart lurched in his chest, as his mind instantly flashed back to May 10, 1994 – one of the worst memories in his existence, when he, on the verge of reclaiming his humanity, instead indulged the monster of all backslides and murdered every boarder in this very house, leaving only Zach alive. The memory still haunted him in moments when his dimmer switch inched toward humanity, ate at him, gnawing him alive.

"I'm not trying to screw up your dumb, new life."

"You don't have to try, Damon. All you have to do is exist."

He wanted to reconnect with his brother – and while he probably shouldn't have fed on the house's occupants, Stefan's words during his most vulnerable moment in decades pierced him so much that he immediately lashed out.

A distant part of his mind wondered if he'd ever be able to forgive himself for his actions that day, should his humanity ever fully return.

"Hey!" he interrupted her in turn forcefully, the words seemingly cascading from her very soul breaking his heart. He knew entirely too well how they felt, because they were emblazoned in his, as well. He wouldn't let her feel this way – feel what it was like to be him. She didn't deserve that. He found himself feeling oddly thankful that she turned up in such a state, knowing that she'd never be this open with him otherwise – not this soon, at the very least.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that Anna plied her with champagne, to loosen her inhibitions. They'd be unlikely to have this conversation otherwise, and she needed to hear this.

"Stop it. None of that," he soothed, his thumbs gently wiping the tears from her cheeks.

She turned away from him, unable to look into his eyes – afraid of the admonition, the revulsion she'd find in them, despite the kindness of his words. Kindness she didn't deserve.

He gingerly placed his hands on either cheek, drawing her to look at him, to meet his eyes. Reluctantly, fearfully, she agreed. "It'snotyour fault, Elena. None of this is," he said with piercing intensity.

"I thought you wanted me to wear even more vervain?" she sassed weakly.

"I'm not compelling you," he replied with a subtle roll of his eyes. "I just want you to understand," he followed up more gently. "Accidents happen every day. It doesn't have to be anyone's fault."

She nodded, though he could see she didn't believe him – not yet. Experience taught him that matters like this take time, and a single conversation wouldn't be a curative panacea, anyway. More than likely, Anna's had filled her with similar notions.

"I'm sorry ," Elena said weakly, clearly embarrassed by her outburst. "I didn't mean to – all this," she vaguely gestured to herself.

He schooled his expression to an angry frown of mock-admonition, pointing to the wet spot on his shoulder. "You should be, Elena. This is John Varvatos. Your tears make me look like an emo kid chasing The Cure tribute bands, and thanks a lot more Steffie's gig than mine. Next thing you know, the forest animals will line up outside the front door, paying me protection carrots just to not feed on them."

Elena laughed, grateful for the distraction, the lifting of her mood. The sound nearly made his heart swell, pride and relief filling him instantly. His fingers continued to stoke her cheeks, despite the tears no longer being present. Without noticing it, he found himself inching closer.

Involuntarily, her gaze flickered to his lips again, and she noticed his do the same, before he swallowed a thick lump in his throat and forced himself to look away.

"I should be getting home," she said, her voice suddenly strained.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," he replied instantly, distinctly uncomfortable at his emotional trajectory. He pulled away from her, though it almost felt like he had to wrestle with a force to do so, a magnetism against which he had hardly a weapon to defend or deflect.

"The prank war is still on, Salvatore," Elena insisted with a genuine smile, by now considerably more sober, as she stood from her stool. She couldn't analyze her feelings on this strange evening – not yet. All she knew is that so much happened – and she had to get out of there. She had to leave this room right now, right this very second, before she –

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he replied with a matching expression, closing the door behind her as she walked out, no doubt to wait for her vampire escort.

The second Elena stepped away from the threshold, an Anna-shaped blur raced down the stairs, swiftly appearing before him, contempt written all over her lovely features.

"What the hell are you doing?" Anna asked, without any real bite to her tone. She almost sounded disappointed.

"What are you talking about?" Damon inquired, genuinely confused.

"I expected some seduction, maybe some attempts at blood play – but not this. Are you just actively trying to break her?"

"What the f*ck are you on about, Anna?"

"Noah's gross little obsession, I can handle, but this is so much worse – so much more insidious. I know you plan to leave with Katherine as soon as the tomb's open, so why are you trying to get her to fall in love with you?" she accused.

"I'm not –"

'She's been through enough, Damon," Anna interrupted, growing visibly annoyed. "She has trauma up to the f*cking rafters and she doesn't need a broken heart on top of everything. The kiddie pageant stunt was cute – annoying, but cute. This is just plain wrong."

"I'm not trying to make Elena fall in love with me, for f*ck's sake," he shot back, exasperated.

"Aren't you?" she eyed him dubiously. "Then what the f*ck are you doing?"

"I'm not doing anything! You're the one who snuck into my house with your pathetic attempt at payback."

"Oh my God," Anna gasped at his sincere confusion, realizing what was happening with a startled guffaw. "You care about her."

"What?" Damon asked, scandalized by the notion. "No, I don't. I mean, sure, she's entertaining. But I don't care about anyone in this one-cell tower town. I'm just here to get Katherine and get the f*ck out."

"Yeah, whatever you have to tell yourself, Damon," Anna snarked, visibly relaxing as she made to leave. "For what it's worth, she clearly cares about you, too. God only knows why."

Chapter 12: Irregular Contact

Chapter Text

Elena was still reeling from her conversation with Damon from the night before. It was all she could do to stop the seemingly perpetual tremor in her heart every time he was around her. No, he was leaving in days. Stop, stop, she chided herself.

At least her massive hangover managed to temper some of her less-than-welcome feelings. Anna must be feeling absolutely fine, Elena thought with a scoff. She'd have to ask her why she's been out of touch all day later.

But this gave her more resolve than ever. She'd at least make sure that someone would find happiness in this whole crazy mess. Since Caroline showed clear interest in Stefan, Elena would make every effort to at least try to get him to give her a chance. That's why when they walked home from their group project session – this time at Amber Bradlee's house – she chanced to broach the topic.

"Where's Anna?" Stefan asked, finally breaking the silence. "It's not like her to not show up to work on the project, or to let me be alone with you," he added sulkily.

"I'm not sure," Elena said evasively, not sure how much Stefan actually knew about their plans to open the tomb and free Anna's mother, as well as his and Damon's sire, and love, she thought with a pang.

"Are you okay?" Stefan inquired, undoubtedly noticing the pained expression on her face, and completely misunderstanding its source.

"Matt mentioned that our football team's not doing too well this year," she said, injecting as much concern into her voice as she could, trying to steer the conversation in a direction that she could handle, and one that might prove beneficial for Caroline.

"Sorry to hear that," Stefan said indifferently, his gaze on her as intense as ever.

"You don't play by any chance, do you?" she asked slyly, knowing that a vampire's supernatural abilities would be almost too useful on the football field.

"I did, but I can't sign up, Elena," he replied with a trace of a laugh.

"Why not?"

"Because it'd be cheating. I'm so much stronger, faster –"

"Then just don't use superhuman strength or speed or reflexes," she argued. "Come on, Stefan. Mystic Falls High needs you!" she retorted with sardonic cheer, mimicking the cheesy recruitment posters plastered all over the school's walls at the start of every year, beckoning young hopefuls to join the varsity team. "Don't you want to reach your Mystic High?" she asked with a playful bit of needling, by now sure that the slogan was a whimsical relic of some of the more psychedelic aspects of '60s counterculture.

"I'll think about it," he replied with a genuine smile.

"That's all I ask!" Elena chirped with a profound sense of relief, neglecting to mention that she planned to quit the squad before the next practice session. As the head cheerleader, Caroline, however, would undoubtedly spend a lot of time with him, and perhaps this way, he'd be forced to see some of her virtues – to see the veritable force of nature brimming beneath the ball of insecurity, fighting to come out.

Anna fiddled with her phone, tapping on its display nervously. She'd already delayed this conversation for days. Even tracking down what could be correct contact information took tremendous effort. And there's no guarantee that it was – it could be another dead end.

If this failed, she might have to take Damon up on his offer to visit some old flame of his in Atlanta since he swore up and down that this 'Bree' was a capable witch, and the last thing she wanted was to actually owe Damon Salvatore a favor, that smug bastard.

Gathering her resolve, she took a deep breath, punched the number into her phone and waited.

Aurelia Bennett had been an old friend of her mother's whom she'd met at the turn of the 16th century – a Bennett witch, freshly turned, cut off from Nature, the lifeforce that gave all her ancestors their magic.

Their tether to Magic, itself.

The woman had been heartbroken, left adrift, feeling like a piece of her soul was missing. Pearl had put her back together as best she could, helping her find purpose in her new existence.

When they last spoke, only a few years before the debacle in Mystic Falls, Aurelia boasted that she took Pearl's guidance about inner peace and meditation to heart, opening a kind of retreat for vampires and other supernatural folk who were as lost as she had once been. She felt a calling to Mount Everest when she was a living witch – and thus created a magically cloaked rehabilitation center there, high on the mountain. The witches she'd befriended in this endeavor, who saw the wisdom in teaching normally traumatized and violent vampires, witches, and werewolves the value of inner peace, worked together to protect it from the elements, shroud it in secrecy, and make it a place of healing.

As far as Anna knew, it was the only kind of vampire-witch-werewolf cooperation of its kind.

A few years after her mother had been locked away in the tomb, Aurelia had come to visit, claiming that one of the Center's witches saw an unusual flurry of energy around this area – that it had been visited by doppelgängers, in whom Anna noticed that the Bennett vampire took a particular interest, though she wouldn't say why. Devastated to learn about Pearl's fate, as well as that of her descendant, Emily, she merely told Anna to call her when the time came to release them.

Anna paid little heed to the notion of doppelgängers, herself, until she met Elena. Her first reaction upon seeing Katherine Pierce's exact physical replica had been bafflement, followed by contempt, finally easing into curiosity. Now that she'd become friends with the girl in question, Anna couldn't help but worry about the greater implications of the 'doppelgänger prophecy' that Aurelia had only mentioned once in passing, without revealing any details.

The contact information that she left had been unreliable at best, however, since the mysterious Center of Serendipity where she made her home had all sorts of magical enchantments placed on it, and it would appear that Aurelia Bennett couldn't be reached unless she expressly wished it so.

Anna had certainly tried over the years. The original address Aurelia had given her yielded absolutely nothing, except the lingering suspicion that a connection had to be forged by magic. The various phone numbers she'd attained in subsequent years had all either been disconnected or attached to shady shell companies, corporations, and not particularly pleasant private citizens.

With a reticent sigh, she tried again.

And again, she got a disconnected number. Nothing. She was seconds away from ripping the paper up in frustration, when an equally exasperated Bonnie Bennett entered her house, loudly slamming the door behind her.

"Grams is being so stubborn!" the witch complained. "I barely brought the idea up to her before she shot it down."

"That's what I was afraid of," Anna said, deflating. "I wanted to get you some back-up from an old friend of my mom's, but it doesn't look like the contact info is any good, as usual," Anna lamented, vaguely gesturing to the crumpled-up paper on her coffee table.

Noah was out. Pity. Maybe with the mood Bonnie was in, she'd at least have given him an aneurism headache after he inevitably did something offensive, which would have entertained them both.

Bonnie picked up the paper, smoothing out its wrinkles, as her eyes suddenly widened in recognition. "This isn't a phone number, Anna," she breathed.

"What?" Anna asked dubiously from her position, lying upside down on the couch, her legs flipped over its back while her head dangled right above the floor. A sure sign of her irritation.

"Look!" Bonnie beamed, excitement returning to her voice. "Look at how symmetric these numbers are."

"So?"

"So! They're – you can think of them as Astral Coordinates."

Now with her curiosity piqued, Anna flipped to an upright position on the couch, Bonnie having her full attention.

"I've seen something like this in one of Grams' grimoires. They're directions on how to arrange candles – how many times to chant," she prattled on excitedly. "Grams once told me that this manner of communication is an old Bennett family secret."

Anna's breathing grew erratic in its excitement, as she leapt forward to envelop her friend into an enthusiastic hug. "Bonnie Bennett, you are a certifiable genius!"

Elena had been blundering her way through her English homework in a post-hangover daze, trying to complete her task for the group presentation on Plato's Symposium, when Anna unceremoniously flung her bedroom door open, her eyes wild with epiphany and wonder.

"We're set! she announced cheerfully, grabbing a cherry from the bowl Elena had in front of her.

"With the tomb?" Elena asked without looking up from her assignment, trying to work out the finer points of Aristophanes' speech about conjoined beings who were the precursors to soulmates despite her pounding headache. Maybe this wasn't the best time for deep analysis, she thought with a sigh, and finally closed the book with a huff, setting it aside to give Anna her undivided attention. Another, more errant part of her, felt that perhaps reading about love - even the fictionalized retelling of it by a comic poet within a philosophical work - would do absolutely nothing to ease the rising heartache that she fought to will away.

"Yep," Anna declared, oozing satisfaction as she smacked her lips around another cherry. "An old friend of my mom's going to come to town with some witches to help Bonnie out. They're leaving tomorrow, so in a few days, it'll all be over."

Elena just nodded, the conflicting emotions within her - at once elated at the thought of Anna finally being reunited with her mother, and utterly deflating at the idea of Damon leaving town, with ... She shook her head subtly, trying to shake the thought loose, when another promptly took its place. Wait a minute -

"How do you think he knew we were coming?" Elena asked, suddenly sitting pin-straight and alert.

"Who?" Anna asked with distinct confusion, before her eyes rolled of their own accord, by now used to this. Of course. "Ugh, Damon? I don't know. Paranoia? Predisposition to being annoying? Alcohol radar?"

"I'm serious!" Elena sat up even straighter, practically jumping in her seat in her excitement. "Think about it. You told me you couldn't find the bourbon - and at the pageant, you know what he said to me?" Anna raised an eyebrow, indulging her excitement for a few seconds, all the while secure that Damon would be gone within days, so it didn't matter, anyway. "He said something about not 'kowtowing to the patriarchy.' Anna, that's your phrase!"

Anna stayed quiet for a long moment, mulling this over. "That f*cking prick. He's been using his familiar to spy on us?"

"We have to get him back!" Elena replied with a little too much excitement and joy, Anna thought.

"And I know exactly how," Anna smirked mischievously, leaning forward conspiratorially to let Elena in on her scheme.

Damon was riding on an enormous high. After 'convincing' Zach – through threat of enormous bodily harm – to quietly take a sabbatical from the Founders Council and nominate Damon to take his place, his infiltration had been an even bigger success than he could have ever imagined. Turning on the charm so early in his arrival with Carol Lockwood, Peggy Fell, and the rest of the so-called 'Founding Femmes' had ensured a warm reception, simperingly jealous husbands aside, and all he had to do was tolerate a few judgmental clucks and tuts of 'what has the world come to' – self-righteousness dressed as faux sympathy. He was all-too familiar with that refrain, having Lily Salvatore for a mother.

Come to think of it, Stef would probably fit right in. Maybe his broody bro should take his place when he and Katherine jet off in a few days, leaving this town and everyone in its circle of self-importance behind for good, he thought with a snicker.

And then a surprisingly sharp stab of pain at the thought that he immediately brushed away. No, he needed to get away from everyone in this place – everyone.

What the f*ck happened to him last night with Elena? He could practically feel his humanity slithering to the surface, the switch nothing but a shoddy ornament made of cheap plaster, as the empathy inside him boomed past all defenses. After Anna confronted him – made him realize, in her obnoxious and super-annoying way – that he was starting to genuinely care about the girl, he had to get out.

Get out and prove her wrong.

So, he took a little trip to the nearest city and indulged the vampire within. No snatch-eat-erase this time. That wasn't good enough after Anna's gutting accusation - after Elena's piercing insinuations about the man inside that at once gripped him with fear and filled him with sweetest elation. No, this time, he needed to rip some throats out, and shove that empathy far down where it belonged.

Nothing was going to make him turn it back on. Nothing. Not even Katherine. She'd probably like this ruthless version of him more, anyway – she did hint at her annoyance with the soft and tender nature of his human heart often enough. He vividly recalled the deep ache in his heart when he overheard his vampiric love callously tell Emily that Damon loved her 'too much' – how sick she was of his open devotion. Why couldn't he just keep his mouth shut, like a good toy? All she wanted him for was blood and sex, anyway. And to make Stefan jealous.

At the time, the human felt his heart shatter under the cruelty of her words. The vampire now simply took the lesson to heart. He loved Katherine, but she wouldn't see his humanity again. It would be better for everyone this way. Maybe this way, she could finally love him – finally choose him.

Someone would finally choose him. Would finally love him.

Maybe at least this version of him would be lovable.

Oh, who was he kidding? He knew nothing about him was lovable. There had to be a reason no one ever loved him, not really. That was all Stefan, he thought bitterly. Stefan was the beloved and treasured son, spared the cruelty of Giuseppe's fists, and cigars, and switches, and words – while Damon took all the punishments, sometimes voluntarily and sometimes not. He couldn't imagine a circ*mstance where his mother would allow Stefan to take the blame for her transgression, but she seemed entirely too eager to allow Damon to be burned and scarred for her theft.

It was Stefan who Katherine chose to escort her to the Founders' Ball. It was obviously him with whom her heart lay.

No, he wasn't lovable. But he wouldn't allow himself to get hurt again, either.

It was like Katherine said – as a human, all he was good for was blood and sex. As a vampire, he swiftly moved to the predator side of the blood equation.

The latter, he internalized enough to make it almost empowering. If that's the height of his worthiness, then he would own it. And that's how he deftly constructed his 'Eternal Stud' persona – chiseling away until it was all sultry blue eyes, piercing wit, and delectable swagger.

The consummate charmer.

And he would charm, seduce, banter, manipulate, hook-and-reel with the best of them. He'd be so alluring and desirable andgoodthat he'd ruin any partner he had for anyone else. If all he was good for was sex, then it would be his weapon. If no one could ever love what was inside, they'd be begging for the Damon they could see, the physical perfection.

And with his empathy – his ability to love – safely tucked away, he couldn't even be bothered by it.

He knew that even like this, Katherine wouldn't love him. But at least without his humanity, he wouldn't really care as much. The rational side of him knew that only his ego would be bruised, and his heart would be safe from any pain.

Besides, the deep swells of emotion that came with his humanity opened him up to enormous amounts of pain. And he knew entirely too well just how much Katherine could hurt him - how much she almost took delight in the power it wrought.

But being around Elena almost seemed to heal that pain. When she would look at him, he could swear she could see past the –

He scoffed. Why was he thinking this way? It's gotten so bad that even the thought of Elena was enough to give his humanity a fighting chance. If he was smart, he'd have ripped her throat out long ago – or at least stayed the hell away from her – far away.

And yet, he couldn't.

He was drawn to her like a magnet – like she was his other half - longing to be whole again. Whenever he was around her,it's like he lost all power to keep his empathy bottled deep within. He wanted to protect her, to soothe her, to make her laugh. She had such an infectious laugh, he thought with a wistful smile, before he caught himself.

He longed to bring back the girl who was hiding behind the thick veil of survivor's guilt – the one he met on the forest road months ago – with her joyful curiosity, and endless well of empathy, and the keen insight that almost seemed to peer within to see real him, despite all efforts to hide him behind thick, impenetrable walls.

Mostly, he just wanted her to be happy.

It was with that disturbing realization that he went off the rails the night before, leaving several drained bodies outside a club in Richmond. He wondered idly what their version of 'animal attack' was, but he honestly couldn't be bothered to care all that much.

He grudgingly saw the logic in leaving Mystic Falls out of last night's killing spree, with the Council of Bigots being in seemingly perpetual moderate alert, spooked so easily that it would take only a cursory mention of the word, 'vampire,' to get that vigilance up to sky-high status.

It gained him some interesting information, as well. Happily, the Council still had no idea that day walkers existed, and he was overjoyed to instill the correctness of that claim. Because of his tiny spree when he first entered the town, however, they were already suspicious of a vampire in town. The couple that he killed on his way back in, mostly to frame Stefan and chase him out before rescuing Katherine, so he wouldn't be in the way, had the requisite marks on their bodies to make them paranoid.

On top of that, he learned of plans to assemble a compass to detect vampires. That could prove to be problematic, so he'd have to ensure that it couldn't be assembled until after the tomb was open, and he and Katherine were safely out of the way. The only remaining piece was the Gilbert watch.

With his best – and quite successful – attempt at guileless eyes, he assured them that he would be on top of retrieving the required artifact for assembly. After all, he and Elena had become friends. The truth of that statement still baffled him.

The heaps of praise he received for the reassurance stroked the diabolical aspects of his ego, practically purring at those idiots' acquiescence. This was all too easy. He almost had them eating out of the palm of his hand when he suggested mixing vervain into all the champagne at forthcoming Founding Family functions to spot any wayward bloodsuckers who may have compelled their way into an invite.

Thanks for the idea, Stef, he thought with a laugh. Now Skulking Inquisition's somehow even more self-righteous incarnate would have to deal with it.

Yes, Damon felt great - in fact, he felt so fantastic that he completely missed the tell-tale swoosh of a vampire's speedy entrance into the house as soon as he turned on the water.

Still whistling a merry tune, Damon stepped out of the shower, his ego and mood elevated to historic levels, only to immediately come crashing down again when he opened his closet door.

His designer shirts were missing. All of them.

His gorgeous, precious, beautiful John Varvatos tees, his Armani button-downs – no, no! Replaced by… flannel!? What the hell was going on? He looked on in horror, frozen for several whole seconds before a note left on his pillow caught his attention in his periphery. He slowly made his way over, lifting it, a tumult of emotion racing through his mind as he read.

Glacial Greetings!

Since you called Matt Donovan "Hallmark Chic," we thought we'd do you a favor and help you along with your full fashion make-over. Hope the self-proclaimed "Eternal Stud" likes his new wardrobe!

Frosty Regards,

A and E

P.S. We left a little something for Doctor Kaw-Kaw, too! Our favorite little corvid spy.

He practically crushed the adorable, tiny sweater, with "My Humanoid is a Vain Douche" stitched onto its center in his hand.

He had to hand it to them. This, he didn't see coming. Maybe when he fixed this fashion emergency, he'd even be amused by it. But for now, he was utterly horrified.

He growled and laughed and growled away as he blurred into Stefan's room, just as its owner strolled in casually.

"What in blazes are you doing to my closet, Damon?" Stefan raged, alarmed by the veritable inferno rampaging through his things.

"Settling for what's available," Damon replied distractedly, pulling out a black tee and leather jacket. This would have to do. He pulled it on, only to wince at the tight fit around his shoulders. "Pro tip: if you don't want to look like an extra onA Requiem for a Dream, maybe diversify your diet from forest creatures exclusively."

"What the hell? Get out of my room, and give me back my stuff!"

"You'll get your stuff back as soon as I fix this Fashion Don't. Oh, those two are going to pay," he grinned, already conniving his next scheme, as he blurred into his Camaro and took off toward Richmond.

After all, what good was a vengeance scheme if he didn't look tantalizing in the process?

Chapter 13: Beneath the Surface

Chapter Text

Mid-October 2009

Sheila Bennett felt a disturbance in the air around her – a familiarity. She felt it every time a witch of the Bennett line was nearby. When she was a child, surrounded by a large and loving family, the feeling warmed, embraced, comforted her. She was surrounded by it at all times – so much so that she'd taken it for granted, and when she moved away for college, she was shocked and dismayed that the familiar warmth with which she'd been so acquainted wasn't just a given aspect of existence.

And she suddenly felt quite cold and alone. Her heart constricted even more when she realized that this must be how most people felt comparatively at all times.

Because being around other witches of the Bennett line strengthened her connection to Nature, and it was the Magic itself that embraced her, that loved her, that made her whole.

Over time, she learned to hone her talents, and being surrounded by other Bennett witches became unnecessary for her to feel this bond.

And yet, it was always sweet, recognizable, and treasured.

So it was on this strange night that she felt it again. But the signature was unusual – there was something darker about it, colder.

Something not quite alive.

With a start, she realized what it must have been.

A vampire.

Slowly, cautiously, preparing for an attack, she opened her front door, to find a young lady on the other side, wearing an enigmatic smile.

"Hello, Sheila," the stranger drawled delicately, the honeyed timbre of her voice soft as a Summer song in the crisp Autumn air. "I've been looking forward to meeting you."

"Who are you?" Sheila asked warily, though she knew the query to be false.

Her interlocutor only continued to smile serenely. "You know exactly who I am, Sheila. You've seen me through the scrying fires, and in your dreams. You've caught glimpses of me on the Astral Plane. You learned the legends.

"Aurelia Bennett," Sheila breathed, astounded to see perhaps the most famous living – if one could call it that – member of the Bennett line on her porch.

The girls finally made it to their desired spot. Deep in the forest, Elena, Anna, Bonnie, and Caroline placed started assembling their nighttime picnic for the rest of the night as they prepared to star and Lamia comet gaze – away from the bustle of town square – a trip they made at Anna's insistence.

The blanket was spread; the pillows fluffed; the snacks and precious stolen wine bottle taken out of their picnic basket.

They were giddy to finally spend time together, to catch up, and to gush over everything the year would entail.

Away from the town's lights, the night sky looked absolutely majestic. The expanse of the Milky Way stretched across the expanse of their vision; the dark velvet of the night sky littered with gloriously incandescent light as the stars shone above them. Off-center, toward the eastern horizon, was the breathtaking beauty of the Lamia comet, seemingly frozen in the night, though its relative distance made its apparent velocity misleading due to parallax. It only appeared to not move, because it was so far away, Anna explained. Parallax was how astronomers determined the relative distance of stars.

For Caroline, it was an opportunity to tell the girls about her latest addition to their cheer choreography, even though out of all present, Bonnie was the only other remaining cheerleader. Elena finally quit, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. Dreamily, she remembered how Damon noticed her morose behavior on the field – how she didn't look happy cheering anymore. She felt so seen…

And then she abruptly stopped herself. In two days' time, they would open the tomb. It didn't matter how seen she felt, because Damon would take his beloved Katherine, and be gone, anyway.

"Elena, are you okay?" Bonnie asked, seeing her friend's facial expression shift.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Elena lied. "Just worried about exams."

"Well, look who's finally taking school seriously again!" Caroline exclaimed. "You've been so 'blah' since May that sometimes I think you're sleepwalking. We're in our Junior year now, and college prep is coming soon – and no school worth their salt is going to care that your grades are slipping because your parents –" she stopped, eyes wide in shock as she took in the admonishing expressions on her friends' faces, and the pained look on Elena's. "I'm sorry!" she cried, considerably more contrite. "I don't know why I said that, but I really care, I promise. I'm just competitive, and I get carried away, and I wanted –"

"I know, Care," Elena finally said, trying desperately to infuse some emotion in her voice that made her sound reassuring instead of the ball of pain she became as soon as her trauma was haphazardly thrown in her face. "I know you meant well."

"Who wants wine?" Anna asked, opening the bottle, and arranging the glasses, knowing from experience that situations like these needed a cheerful distraction, and fast.

"Me!" Bonnie exclaimed, immediately picking up Anna's intention, and holding out her glass.

Once the wine was flowing, the conversation began to sparkle with laughter and the night's mood of merriment and cheer was veritably saved. The comet hung gloriously overhead, a beaming light of hope, of long-awaited reunions, of blossoming love. Soon after, they heard a rustling in the grass and the object of Elena's very own blossoming love approached, all swagger and black leather and a mischievous smirk sultry enough to melt the frostiest exterior.

Elena released a shuddering breath as she felt everything inside her come to life in his presence, having only seen him for brief moments since she practically ran out of the Boarding House a few weeks ago. In that time, she and Anna had successfully stolen his rather impressive collection of designer tees and button downs – mostly sampling all across the spectrum of black and black adjacent – forcing him to make an emergency run to Richmond luxury boutiques and department stores because he 'wouldn't be caught dead looking like It's-a-Hallmark-Christmas movie endgame.' He, in turn, had gotten his revenge by compelling the school staff to rig the sprinklers to go off at the Fall Foliage dance, right as Elena and Anna entered the gym. They, in turn, convinced the Founding Femmes that Damon requested their presence for a 'special conference' in his bedroom, after spiking their drinks with vervain so he wouldn't be able to compel them to leave. Let him deal with the fallout of his own actions, they cackled.

Now it seemed that Damon not only got his original wardrobe returned, since he appeared to be clad in the exact shirt he wore on the night he and Elena danced in the Boarding House's parlor, but he and Anna seemed to make up, as she nodded to him and quickly walked off to speak to him without so much as a 'I'll be back' to her friends. Damon just winked at Elena and walked into a whispering huddle with Anna, lost in an intense discussion.

"What's up with them?" Caroline asked excitedly, gossip-meter up, the only one present out of the loop of the tomb plans.

"They're old family friends, Care – probably family stuff," Elena reasoned, not really wishing to expand on what she assumed the conversation topic would be. The tomb – of course, it was the tomb. What else could it be, she thought sourly.

"Let's leave them be for now and just focus on us," Bonnie said wisely, taking the bottle of wine to pour another round for her friends and grabbing some of their snacks to build the charcuterie board that Anna assembled.

It didn't take long for another nighttime visitor to suddenly interrupt Girl Skygazing Night, when suddenly, Stefan Salvatore appeared. "Hi, ladies. What are you three doing here all by yourselves?" he asked with a tone just broaching concern, but he also didn't seem entirely surprised to see them, so he'd probably been planning his approach for a while.

Caroline positively preened –preened. "Hi, Stefan!" she chirped, grooming her hair. "We're having a little girls' night, watching the stars and the comet."

"Oh, then don't let me interrupt –" he began to say politely.

"No!" Caroline immediately took the bait. "Please stay. We'd love to have you join us. Wouldn't we, girls?" She pointed turned to Elena and Bonnie, daring them to disagree, much to their barely-stifled groans.

"Sure, of course," Elena said dispassionately. "What you doing here, Stefan? Isn't it late for you to be out, too? And so far away from the house. These woods are so full of wild animals, and you're out all alone," she tutted, knowing that he was probably out hunting, and hoping he wasn't actually stalking them, like he apparently tried to do to her over the Summer, if Anna's tales were to be believed.

"Just out for a walk," he replied. "I wanted to catch the comet before it was too late."

"Please join us," Bonnie said diplomatically, though her tone lacked its usual warmth. While Anna was undoubtedly her friend, she was still decidedly uncomfortable around both Salvatores. Something about their auras distinctly unsettled her.

"Thank you, Bonnie, Elena, Caroline," he replied, making his patented intense eye contact with each girl in turn as he took a seat on their blanket.

"You know, that comet," he looked up, looking broody as ever, forehead wrinkles out in full force. "it's been traveling across space for thousands of years. All alone."

"Grams says it's a harbinger of evil," Bonnie winced, knowing what the comet would come to represent within days, and precisely what her grandmother thought of it.

"I think it's just a ball of," he dropped the tone of his voice, affecting a what he likely thught was a sensual timbre, but instead came across as a bit mopey and sad. Or maybe that's what Stefan thought was attractive – and clearly the height of cleverness. It certainly seemed to be working on Caroline. "Snow and ice, trapped on a path that it can't escape. And once every hundred and forty-five years, it gets to come home."

Suddenly, Stefan's attempt at seduction was interrupted by uproarious laughter from Damon and Anna, who finally saw fit to interrupt their hushed huddle and approach the source of their cackling amusem*nt.

"You mean an orbit? Like literally every object in space? Where's Earth coming home to? Jupiter's ass – ?"

"Shut on, Damon!" Stefan interrupted. "You're not wanted here."

"Okay, Stef, I was so wrong. I'm big enough to admit it! You definitely needed to go back to high school," Damon said patronizingly. "Comets aren't born on Earth, Steffie. This isn't their home. It's probably a big, freezing place called the Oort Cloud – probably. – just like mommy and daddy Salvatore's hearts. I'd elaborate, but I don't want you to hurt yourself putting it all together."

"Or the Kuiper belt," Anna added once she was able to restrain her laughter. "That's where comets go shopping for accessories so they come home to Earth looking all stylish."

"I was being metaphorical," Stefan said through gritted teeth. "Shouldn't you two be conspiring? What are you doing here, anyway, Damon?"

"Oh, no, this is so much better," Anna said cheekily. "Please, continue. Pretend we're not here."

"He's run out of cliches for the night. Stef's only got so many cheesy derivative lines in him before he's forced to rely on his backups – the world's most crowded forehead and most product-filled hero-hair," Damon sassed.

The girls were stifling laughter in varying degrees, with Elena perhaps failing the most – the sound of her laughter made Damon's heart lurch. Unwilling to examine the sudden lightness in his very being, the smile – the very genuine physical manifestation of happiness – that rose on his face of its own volition, he instead opted to ignore this entirely and plough ahead with amusing himself.

"Stay away from Flat Earthers, Steffie! Remember, if anyone asks you why there aren't flights between Australia and South America – and, for the record, there are – just say 'no!' Such a handful," Damon tutted, looking at an increasingly amused Anna.

"Why are you here, Damon?" Stefan repeated the question that Damon avoided for the nearly two months than he'd been in town – only this time he pretended he meant the woods specifically.

"Just catching up with an old family friend, Stef," Damon replied, wrapping a playful arm around Anna's shoulders, just to elicit a sharp roll of her eyes, and prompt stepping away from the halfhearted embrace.

"And how do you know so much about Flat Earthers, Damon?" Elena teased, by now having fallen in love with their verbal dance.

He only grinned, abandoning all notions of making fun of Stefan for the moment and sauntering over to his favorite person – in theforest, he quickly corrected himself. Just the forest – just this little, tiny section of the woods, that's all. "I get around," he replied sultrily. "I said they're dangerous for Stef's naive sensibilities, not that they're ugly," he added with a playful roll of his eyes.

"Ooh, is that where you learned that gravity is an attractive force?" Elena retorted wryly with a raise of her eyebrows.

"Someone had to teach them," he purred, moving to take a seat next to her, moving closer, as though to illustrate his point. "I can teach you all about gravity, too."

"Didn't you say that we all have our own gravitational fields?" she replied, crossing her arms across her chest. "I think mine is strong enough that I can resist you just fine!"

"Now you're getting it," he grinned slyly. "And what an attractive gravitation field it is."

Soon after, the women found themselves sitting in Sheila's living room, conversing over a cup of tea and honey cake that Bonnie loved so much that it had become a mainstay of the Bennett household.

"I must be out of my damn mind," Sheila muttered, mostly to herself. "Never in my life before have I allowed a vampire into my home."

"Because you know I'm the protector of our line," the woman who Sheila correctly identified as 'Aurelia Bennett' purred, her eyes dancing with mischief. Centuries as a vampire had given her a dangerous allure that immediately marked her as a predator, a vixen, a femme fatale. And yet there was a softness about her – a wisdom. "Well, one of them, anyway. You may be quite surprised to learn of another in your vicinity," she added with a mysterious chuckle.

"I thought you were just a legend," Sheila admitted honestly, forgoing the other bit of news about a second Bennett protector for the time being.

"No, you didn't," Aurelia smiled. "Not really – you accepted my presence far too quickly. Somehow, you've always known. We Bennett witches are all connected – even those of us who have been untethered from Nature for quite some time," she added with a note of wistfulness that she couldn't quite hide.

"Pardon my bluntness," Sheila said, still not entirely comfortable to be in the presence of her vampiric ancestor, having been taught to fear and hate vampires all her life. "But why are you here?"

"Right to the point, I see. Good. Let's not waste time on niceties. I'm here for the tomb vampires –"

"Absolutely not!" Sheila interrupted in a hot rage. "I will not let you expose this town to –"

"They're coming with me," Aurelia interrupted in turn, considerably more calm. The serenity in her tone held iron, however. This was not a woman to be trifled with, or easily dismissed. "Desiccation – especially that which lasts nearly a century and a half – can be quite traumatic. Combined with the changes to the world around them, they'll have difficulty adapting, maybe vengeful –"

"Exactly –"

"Which is why I'll be taking them to my Wellness Retreat in desiccated form. We'll revive them as soon as we arrive, and your town will be safe from them. I may be a vampire, Sheila, but I am also a healer. I won't let you destroy innocent lives – vampire or not," Aurelia said firmly.

Sheila stayed quiet for several long moments – the entire situation before her baffling. She'd known vampires to abuse witches – to use them for their benefit, threatening their loved ones in exchange for favors. And yet the legend of Aurelia Bennett persisted in her family for centuries – a silent guardian keeping watch over their whole line. "How do you know they won't come back and take their revenge, once you're done with them?"

"I won't let them," Aurelia replied simply, confidently. "I'm older than all of them, and the others who run the Center of Serendipity are quite adept at sensing this sort of ill intent. It's not our first rodeo, Sheila," she winked conspiratorially. "Please. Don't let Bonnie have this on her conscience."

Sheila huffed at the mention of Bonnie's conscience. While she allowed that Aurelia perhaps gave some credence to her granddaughter's feelings, her very intuition burned with the feeling that there was more to this story. "Why are you really here, Aurelia?"

"Pearl Zhu was my friend. I was too late to save her in eighteen sixty-four, and I'd like to make up for that now," she said quickly – a little too quickly for Sheila's liking. There was more to this.

"So, what do you need from me?" Sheila asked.

"At best, I'd like you to help," Aurelia replied. "At the very least, to stay out of our way. Emily's spell requires a Bennett witch, and Bonnie will cast it, but she'll have the witches that accompanied me to help her. She'll be perfectly safe – they'll be providing the brunt of the power."

Sheila narrowed her eyes. "She didn't tell me she was still planning to pursue this nonsense after I expressly forbid it."

Aurelia smiled surreptitiously over her teacup, before taking a sip of the delicate jasmine brew. "Your granddaughter appears to be a lot more rebellious than you've realized. Perhaps she's got more of me in her than you'd care to admit."

"That's what I was afraid of," Sheila scoffed. "Fine, I'll help you – if only to ensure Bonnie's safe. At least this way, we know those vampires will be out of this town, and no one will ever be able to unleash them onto Mystic Falls ever again."

"Excellent," Aurelia preened, waiting for the silence to settle between the two as they finished their pieces of cake. "You may ask, you know. It's not a secret," she teased, assessing precisely what Sheila's query must have been.

"Why did you turn?"

Now it was Aurelia's turn to be shocked, for she was sure Sheila would inquire about the identity of the Bennetts' other protector. "I had my reasons," she sighed.

"Which were?"

"Complicated."

"You really are a barrel of forthcoming information, aren't you?"

"I did it for love, Sheila. And that's all I'll say. There's not a day that I don't miss magic – my connection to Nature – and yet I don't regret it."

"Well, you have protected us, so despite my reservations, I'm grateful."

"There's someone else you should be grateful to, as well. Damon Salvatore – he promised Emily he would protect the Bennett family line in exchange for Katherine Pierce's safety, and he's kept his end of the bargain.

"That asshole? Him?" Sheila sputtered in indignant shock.

Aurelia laughed, for the first time all evening, uproariously. Releasing an outright guffaw, she nodded, struggling to catch her breath. "Yes, him," she finally answered, then sobered. "I thought for sure you'd ask me for the other protector's identity."

Sheila smiled, her own cheekiness mirroring that of Aurelia's, the resemblance between the two more notable than ever. "I knew you'd tell me, anyway."

"Bennett cleverness," Aurelia remarked, as Sheila got up to produce two tumblers and a bottle of bourbon for what became a night of family bonding.

Stefan continued to sulk while being comforted by Caroline as he and Damon bantered into the evening, with occasional flirty exchanges between Elena and the Salvatore that was quickly becoming the biggest pain in Anna's ass. Opening the tomb couldn't come soon enough. Maybe explaining Katherine's absence would cause a bit of a hiccup, but she wagered that Damon would react much like Noah and chase any lead Pearl would generously bestow about Backstabbing Incarnate's whereabouts, and leave Mystic Falls posthaste.

Maybe they'd even take Stefan with them.

Bonnie looked like she was done with all four of them. Good for her, Anna thought. Maybe she'd need to get to know the Bennett witch, who was clearly more than deserving of her company.

The idea had hardly begun to permeate when her phone buzzed with the telltale sound of a text message. Her undead heart skipped a beat when she read it, and she couldn't keep the glee from her voice as she turned to Damon.

"The day after tomorrow! It's happening. Everyone is in. Everyone! Aurelia did it."

And just like that, the energy in the forest shifted. Stefan looked intrigued; Caroline, confused; Bonnie, surprised; Elena, crestfallen; but it was Damon who surprised Anna the most. She expected him to be ecstatic. Instead, he looked to be forcing a smile that couldn't quite reach his eyes, not nearly the picture of bliss she imagined.

What was going on?

Chapter 14: These Walls They Are A-Crumblin'

Chapter Text

Mid-October 2009

The day had finally come. They were going to open the tomb and release the vampires, free from the torment of over a century of confinement and desiccation at last.

The deal was that Anna would see to Pearl's care and recovery, while the rest would leave with Aurelia, still in desiccated form, to be revived upon arrival to the Center of Serendipity, Aurelia's wellness center cloaked deep in the Himalayan mountains, minus Katherine Pierce.

Damon Salvatore was the first to arrive a bit earlier in the evening, having been unable to quell the scorching anxiety building within him. He should be happy – ecstatic, even. This was the moment for which he'd waited for nearly a century and a half. Not knowing what to do with himself until the rest of the party was due to arrive, he came to the agreed upon place shortly before nightfall. He was tempted to visit Elena, to say goodbye in private – despite not-yet having gotten an invitation to her house, their prank war never quite concluded, but seemingly on a mutually agreed upon pause.

An indefinite one, apparently.

Because he was leaving tonight. With Katherine in tow. Who cared if he'd never see her human lookalike again, right? So why did everything suddenly hurt at the mere thought?

He was probably just nervous. Katherine had been desiccating for over a century, and the idea of being reunited with her was most likely not registering properly. That's why he couldn't summon the appropriate excitement, he reasoned with himself. That was why all he felt was a quiet dread – an almost profound sense of loss.

Maybe he just got reattached to his hometown again? Nah, that wasn't right, either. He still hated his hometown, and everyone in it.

Except that wasn't true either. He didn't hateeveryone. Not even a little. Not at all.

And so, he sat in the clearing, while he waited for the others, trying to will himself to imagine all that awaited him once he was reunited with his lost love. They would travel the world, sampling all its delights. They would hunt and feed and revel in all the joy life had to offer. Suddenly, he could see mirth and laughter in her expressive dark eyes, shining with kindness, and empathy, and love for him, and he was instinctively filled with a blazing warmth, only to have his brain catch up with his runaway fantasy and – at the realization that it wasn't Katherine's eyes or smile or laughter that his addled brain imagined –he suddenly felt his veins turn to ice.

Anna arrived soon after, evidently just as filled with nervous energy as Damon. She was surprisingly alone, alternating between checking her phone, looking around, and pacing back and forth.

"Where's the second part of the Great Little Miss Miss Mystic Falls Judgment Spectacular?" Damon snarked, finally making himself known after a near quarter hour of silence passed between them.

Anna noted the vague trace of disappointment in his voice. He counted on being able to say goodbye to Elena, apparently. Little did he know, she internally trailed off. Although, after what he would discover tonight, she wasn't sure how pleasant he would be, so hiding Elena away in the safety of her home was a wise idea, Anna thought, congratulating herself for her own forward thinking. "It's not safe for her to be around so many starving vampires," Anna replied distractedly.

"I thought they were being taken away in desiccated form?" Damon asked with a quirked eyebrow. "And I'd protect her from – " he began, only to cut himself off when his expression darkened upon realizing what Anna was likely implying, but he quickly covered it with amusem*nt. "What, you think I'd let Katherine eat her?"

She scrutinized him for a moment and was surprised to find that she believed that no – no, he wouldn't. But that didn't mean he wouldn't take his rage out on her, either, when he learned of Katherine's betrayal and Anna's lie of omission. Though that didn't feel quite right anymore, either. Anna mentally admonished herself, realizing that there are more important matters to consider than a murder-happy game of what-if, especially if Elena was safely ensconced away. "Anything could go wrong. They might get their hands on the blood bags, and we'd have a bloodbath on our hands. I don't want her in the middle of that."

The rest of the squad began filtering in shortly after that. Bonnie and her grandmother, Sheila, came – with expressions on opposite sides of the happiness spectrum. Bonnie looked overjoyed to apparently be meeting an ancient vampiric ancestor – being able to cast such an advanced spell – knowing she would be partially responsible for reuniting Anna with her mom.

Sheila looked worried – mostly alternating between glaring at Damon and Anna and threatening them with aneurisms should Bonnie befall any harm from either of them.

Finally, the remainder of the requisite ensemble came. Aurelia Bennett was the image of grace and regality as she practically floated onto the meadow. There was an unusual aura about her – powerful and ancient. As a vampire, she was disconnected from Nature, and yet – like with all witches – it floated all about her. Flanking her on either side were four witches who followed her from the Center of Serendipity to assist with the seal opening and subsequent moving of the desiccated bodies. They didn't speak much, though both Anna and Damon noticed that they didn't have the usual apprehension and disdain with which witches typically viewed vampires – and both independently surmised that their experiences with the undead must have been a lot more pleasant than most.

Night had settled over the woods surrounding Mystic Falls as the peculiar group gathered around the tomb connected to Fell's Church. Halloween was due to arrive in a little over a week, so perhaps an innocent spectator could have assumed that the curious lot was simply in the midst of planning some shenanigans to unleash on the unsuspecting town as part of a prank. They'd admittedly gotten quite tame in years of late.

Strangely, unleashing mischief and mayhem was precisely what they were trying to avoid. Instead, they aimed to redirect it. Most of the vampires released from the tomb would be leaving Mystic Falls that very night.

"All right, people, let's get this over with," Sheila said, putting the necklace clasping Emily's crystal around her neck. Immediately, it glowed with power.

"Not yet," smiled one of the witches standing next to Aurelia – an elegant man wearing a curious array of banded bracelets. They wove patterns around his arms like golden snakes, only to glow as his companions began to chant.

Suddenly, a stirring in the clearing, and another figure stepped into the light created by their bonfire.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Anna growled, glaring at Elena. "I thought we both agreed that you'd stay home tonight, where it's safe?" she stressed, her subconscious forcing her to occasionally glance at Damon.

"No, you agreed with yourself and didn't let me get a word in edgewise," Elena shot back, then followed Anna's gaze to Damon, furrowing her own brows in confusion at her friend's paranoia about him resurfacing. Distantly, she recalled that Anna mentioned a secret she was keeping once and begged her to trust her. Could it have something to do with this night? Why was she being so weird? "I wanted to say goodbye," Elena urged with quiet determination. "In case I don't get another chance," she said, her soft gaze landing on Damon, whose expression was unreadable.

"Then say it, and go home," Anna ground out tersely.

"Why?" Elena cried, throwing her arms up in exasperation.

"She'll be fine," Aurelia said calmly. "There are enough of us here to protect her in case anything goes awry." Nevertheless, the vampire seemed to be unable to take her eyes off the doppelgänger, almost in curiosity, wonder. Sheila raised an inquisitive eyebrow at this. Aurelia didn't seem to be looking at Elena, but almost through her - seeing someone else.

"But –" Anna cried, her eyes darting to Damon, who only raised his own eyebrow in curious scrutiny, now positive that she was hiding something.

"No harm will come to the doppelgänger on this night," soothed a witch directly to Aurelia's right as dancing flames continued to surround her, her red hair aglow against their warming light. "I've seen it in scrying fires. On the contrary," she continued with a mysterious smile, now glancing at Damon, as well. "Her presence will be most welcome."

The vampire only studied her with a raised eyebrow before Elena approached him, suddenly shy – all her earlier bluster swallowed by the importance of the moment.

"I see your shallow dress code is back," she sassed. "Still trying out for that GQ sample sale commercial?"

"GQ sample sale? That's a magazine, Elena. Do I have to teach you everything?" he queried with a teasing smirk, his tone at once sprinkled with honey and spice. "And there are easier ways to get me to take my shirt off. No need for all that scheming," he intoned charmingly, wiggling his eyebrows in that way of his and falling right back into their pattern, as though he didn't plan to rescue Katherine in mere minutes.

She laughed, then quickly sobered what she remembered what the night meant. "I just – I wanted to thank you. For taking care of me at the Boarding House that night."

"You're welcome," he told her seriously, swallowing a think lump in his throat. There was so much more he wanted to say. He reached out to take her hand, about to tell her that he meant everything – that he hoped he got through to her – then quickly dropped it when he realized what he was doing, letting his hands hang at his sides.

"I –" she began to say, then forced herself to stop.I'll miss you. "I hope you find your happiness, Damon. Good luck," she forced out, the words tumbling forth at near imperceptible speed, before she followed suit and rushed away to Anna's side, unable to stay in his presence any longer, knowing what the night meant.

Damon just looked at her and nodded, mouthing 'you, too,' with a tight smile, despite being fully aware that the words hadn't even scratched the surface of everything that was on his mind. Coward.

"One more," another witch by Aurelia's side sang, as her vampiric interlocutor stifled a laugh in amusem*nt.

"Looks like we're the 'It' event of the night, Cora," Aurelia mocked with a conspiratorial wink as Stefan Salvatore burst onto the scene breathlessly.

"What's going on here!? Damon, let them –" he began disapprovingly, only to become slack jawed upon seeing Sheila Bennett eyeing him haughtily.

"Just how many vampires are going to show up here tonight?" Sheila demanded. "Did someone send out a mass party invite on Vampire Twitter?" she sassed, then rolled her eyes at the surprised looks. "I know what that is! I'm notthatold."

"We're ready, 'Rel," the witch previously addressed as 'Cora' said to Aurelia, who nodded in return, just as the rest of the visitors joined the chant and the flames in the bonfire began to rise.

Sheila and Bonnie joined them. The crystal around Sheila's neck began to glow, vibrating vigorously, but the witch merely took it into the palm of her hand, and just as suddenly, the vibrations soothed into a rhythmic humming. A great rumbling was momentarily heard within the tomb, when suddenly the stone covering the opening moved to the side.

A flash of light, a band snapping, and a lingering twinkling in the air.

It was done.

The seal was broken.

"Anna, you go get your mom first, and we'll follow behind to grab everyone else," Aurelia commanded as the exhausted witches dug into their supply bags for some restorative water and snacks. This spell was certainly not for the faint of heart.

"Well, that's my cue," Damon jabbed, annoyed at being overlooked, and blurred into the tomb.

Anna pursed her lips, leveling a gaze at Aurelia and the witches who accompanied her. "You said she'd be fine, so protect her," she said flatly, before vampire-speeding into the tomb.

"Does someone want to tell me what's going on here?" Stefan asked, exasperated, after Damon and Anna disappeared from sight.

"We opened Emily's seal to release the vampires," Sheila said calmly, interrupting Stefan, who had made several attempts to speak through his shock, only to open and close his mouth several times. "They'll be leaving with this lot tonight," she said, gesturing to Aurelia and her guests.

"How do you know they'll keep their word?" Stefan demanded.

"Are you seriously questioning my judgment and ability to keep my own town safe, vampire?" Sheila sassed back, crossing her arms over her chest in challenge to an immediately shrinking back Stefan who just shook his head. Bonnie just smirked from behind her, seeing all kinds of fascinating new sides to her grandmother that evening.

Anna sped through the tomb, her breath catching in her throat when her eyes fell on the familiar form. Still, covered in dust – Anna's heart broke at the agony her other must have suffered all these decades. She approached her cautiously, gently lifting her emaciated face, cradling it in her hands.

"Mama?" she choked, the sounds a muffled sob, before she remembered herself.

She instantly withdrew the blood bag from her backpack, feeding it to her desiccated mother, who almost choked on the life-giving elixir, muscles at first disobedient from disuse – but once she was through with half the bag, Anna was relieved to see Pearl's strength returning. Steadily, she finished it, and Anna helped her to her feet, walking her slowly toward the exit and freedom.

Damon ran through the tomb, desperation seizing him completely. Where was she? He must have circled the entire tomb three times, five, ten.

Eventually, he saw the visiting witches and that mysterious vampire enter, too.

Despair increasingly filled him, as he watched the desiccated bodies – all of whom were decidedly not Katherine – levitated out of the tomb, one by one.

How could she not be here? She was supposed to be here. He prepared for this for 145 years – at times, it was all that kept him alive – the thought that he would be the one to rescue her, that he…

Quickly, he blurred toward Anna and Pearl, blocking their exit.

"Where is she?" he growled at Anna, his vampiric features coming forth.

"I'm sorry, Damon," Anna said contritely – genuinely meaning it. "But I needed to rescue my mother, and you wouldn't have helped me otherwise."

He roared, making a dive for Pearl, grabbing her by the throat, only to be knocked off her by Anna. "Damon, please! You would have done the same if you were in my shoes – you know you would have. The lengths we go to save the people we love," she pleaded.

"Why should you get a happy ending?" he spat, the anguish bleeding through his very soul.

"She saw you," Anna said quietly, standing protectively in front of her mother. "Chicago, in nineteen eighty-three. She saw you, but she didn't care. I'm sorry, Damon."

He looked on at her numbly, forcing himself to ask to next question as he braced himself. He couldn't take any more betrayal, any more pain. Quietly, almost imperceptibly, "did Elena know?"

"No," Anna said. "I told her I was keeping a secret from her, but I didn't tell her what it was. Wouldn't put her in a compromising position," she explained.

Damon nodded, feeling a tiny sliver of relief.

"We'll help you find her," Anna said gently. "Now that I rescued my mother, she can tell us where to find Katherine. You know they were best friends. And this way, you and –"

"Why the hell would I want to find her?" Damon raged. "She clearly wants nothing to do with me, so why the f*ck would I want to f*cking find her, Anna?"

He was almost incandescent in his anger for a few seconds, before he deflated, coming still and stepping aside to let them out. As Anna and Pearl exited the tomb, he just stood there, unsure of what to do next. Everything crashed around him all at once.

He was so distraught that he didn't notice the sharp and disapproving glance Elena leveled at Anna as she approached the entrance, overhearing their conversation.

Nearly a century and a half – he planned to rescue her for 145 years, and all this time, she was free.

She never loved him. No one had ever loved him. No one would ever love him.

He was unlovable.

She didn't even see fit to let him stop his search, his attempt to rescue her. That's how little he mattered.

Worthless. Worthless. Worthless.

"All you'll ever be is a disappointment."

"I'm not trying to ruin your dumb, new life."

"You don't have to try, Damon. All you have to do is exist."

The words swirled around him, engulfing him whole. Suddenly, he didn't see much of a reason to leave the tomb anymore. What reason did he have? Who could ever want him?

He was spiraling, adrift. The world around him spun about, and everything within him lost all footing – when suddenly, he felt soft arms wrap firmly around his middle – a tether drawing him back from the abyss.

"Damon," a voice breathed, so softly, gently – it sounded like Katherine's voice, but she'd never use that tone with him. No, it wasn't Katherine's voice at all. It was one that filled him with warmth originating in his very soul, and shone a light so bright and powerful through his darkest crevices that no part of him could hide from her - he was consumed by it.

And just like that, the world came back into focus, and he lowered his gaze to meet hers.

Taking in the utterly broken look on Damon's face, Elena felt hot tears flood her own eyes, and squeezed him to her. "You deserve so much better this, Damon - better than her," she murmured in his ear.

He let himself be held, drawing comfort from the warmth of her presence, the guiding light, even if his own arms were too numb to reciprocate.

Slowly, he felt the world around him start to reform, the threads weaving together, enchanted by the arms that held him he mattered – mattered so much – like he was loved; by the thrum of the heart that he felt wildly beating against his chest; by the tears soaking his shoulder from the girl who showed him time and time again how much shecared.

He could never stand her sadness, even if it was for him. "This shirt's dry-clean only," he rasped when he finally found his voice. "I'm sending you the bill. It's soaked with so much sadness now, you could practically add it back to the Donovan pile."

"Shut up Damon!" she choked a laugh and smacked him across the chest lightly, almost exaggerated in its unexpectedness in the melancholy moment.

He almost smiled briefly – his lips twitching for a fraction of a second – before the haunted look returned.

Inside, however, there was a whirlwind of emotion. The juxtaposition of the awful discovery he'd made, betrayal he didn't deserve; followed immediately by such loving comfort, such softness from her, someone so - someone whose love and affection he undoubtedly didn't deserve. What tiny, tenuous defense he had against his humanity finally ripped apart by the gentle strokes of Elena's hands on Damon's back. The soothing tone, no doubt whispering words of affirmation, affection, which he barely caught, so wrapped in the throes of his agonizing discovery of Katherine's betrayal, his cautious elation at Elena's presence, her empathy. Her ability to see him.

Her ability to love.

"You hide behind your wit and your charm, like everything's a joke to you. But I think whatever's inside that you're keeping locked away is even more special, Damon."

"Why don't you let people see the good in you? Why do you pretend to be scarier than you are?"

"So you do care! I knew you were hiding a heart in there somewhere."

Elena was always stronger than his switch. It never had a chance.

It was only a matter of time until it all came rushing back.

"I'll take him home, Elena," Stefan said, who entered the tomb without either of them noticing, so wrapped up in each other in this poignant moment. "I'll make sure he's okay."

"I –" Elena began, planning to argue, before she saw a slight nod from Damon. She stepped back then, watching his brother guide him away. She studied them curiously. This is the first time she'd ever seen them get along. The few moments she shared in their presence simultaneously had all been filled with tension, if not outright malice.

But now, she could see something else – something that was hidden before – a certain quality that simmered beneath the surface of their resentment and rivalry. Love. Despite it all, it suddenly became quite clear to her that the Salvatore brothers truly did love each other. So, she stepped back, and let Stefan take Damon home, vowing to herself that she'd stop by to check in on him the following day.

By the time Elena left the tomb, Anna was long gone, as were Aurelia and her witch posse. Instead, Bonnie and Sheila awaited her with reassuring smiles, ready to take her home.

Fighting her own incoming exhaustion, she allowed them to, reflecting on one of the most baffling events she'd ever experienced in her life.

Anna had finally settled her mother to bed, after feeding her several more blood bags. She took her to the house she shared with Noah, who awaited the return of Pearl with undisguised eagerness – one step closer to reuniting with his dream-and-nightmare-in-one, Katherine.

It look nearly all her patience to get him to finally back the f*ck off, explaining that Pearl might need at least a day to recover from a f*cking century and a half of desiccation before she'd be ready to discuss the bitch who betrayed her and left her to rot.

A creak of an old stair, and suddenly, Anna shot up, the adrenaline accumulated during the day kicking all her senses into awakening. The spike immediately receded in abject relief when she saw Aurelia slowly saunter into the room.

"I just wanted to let you know that we're leaving, but you and your mother are more than welcome to join us," the Bennett vampire said.

"You know I can't," Anna winced. "I can't leave until I'm at least sure that Noah's out of town, chasing down Katherine. If I'm not around –"

"Yes, you fear that he may hurt your doppelganger friend," Aurelia surmised. "You'd be wise to lure him away."

"Damon and Stefan, too," Anna muttered.

"She has nothing to fear from them," Aurelia provided.

"You knew Katherine wasn't in the tomb," Anna deduced. "It was obvious from the way you spoke. How?"

"Our Center's located on a magical hotspot. In another Universe, it serves as one of several gateways to temporal magic, and thus allows us to peer into different worlds. It's how we are able to learn so many possibilities, determining a likely outcome."

"So, why didn't – ?" Anna began accusingly.

"The drawback is that we may seldom interfere, lest we lose the connection to the magic. Its purpose is not to make us omnipotent," Aurelia interrupted.

"So then what is the point of being able to see all that?"

"I'm honestly not sure – not yet," Aurelia replied. "But that's not the only reason I'm here. Call me when Katherine Pierce arrives. You'll need my help."

"Why would she come back here?" Anna scoffed.

"The Center's witches have seen it in the scrying fires. Her lie has been exposed. She'll have to take desperate, but measured steps to ensure her continued survival, and the key to that lies in this very town - and in your doppelgänger friend."

"Please vague that up for me, Aurelia," Anna snarked, having had just about enough of witches and their mysterious riddles.

"I'm afraid I can't say more at this time – not yet," Aurelia replied, making way to leave.

"Thank you – for your help," Anna called, running out of the room to catch her, only then realizing that in the stress of the day's events and the tumult of emotion that followed, she hadn't expressed her gratitude.

"It's my pleasure, Anna. Pearl and I were – close," she admitted, before turning back. "I will keep the fires of communication open for one week. That's how much time you have to decide to join us to help Pearl acclimate to life and the changing times in a peaceful environment. I suggest you take it."

In the next instant, Aurelia Bennett was gone, leaving only a small trinket behind as evidence of her erstwhile presence at all.

It was a box, containing a candle, incense, and a crystal – and what Anna had come to learn was not a phone number at all, but magical coordinates for meeting on the Astral Plane.

Chapter 15: The Tenacious Power of Glitter

Chapter Text

Mid-October 2009

Anna had been a veritable puddle of emotion. Her reunion with her mother had gone from tearful affection to annoyance at being treated like a child – which she suspected was common among independent adult children suddenly finding themselves under parental supervision again, even though she was the one who mounted the rescue, she grumbled.

Pearl Zhu had been up for a few hours now, antsy at having to rely on these strange contraptions that kept her source of sustenance cold and had a distinctly unpleasant aftertaste.Plastic, apparently. She'd been trapped for so long, nearly a century and a half, without the life-giving essence that she found herself continuously craving since her release – hangry, her daughter called it – and starting to feel downright claustrophobic within those four walls.

On top of everything, that idiot Noah wouldn't stop gawking at her, desperation clearly written all over his face as he obviously needed something. At least he stepped out. Finally.

But the worst part is that her daughter – her precious, intelligent, kind, sweet, apparently gullible Annabelle – was on the verge of repeating her mistakes.

"So, you're telling me that she looks identical to Katherine Pierceandshe's a Gilbert, and you trusted her with your secret!?" Pearl demanded, absolutely incensed that her daughter could have been so careless.

"For the fifth time, Mama, yes. She helped me rescue you," Anna replied through gritted teeth, her irritation mounting by the second.

"Do you not remember what happened to me? When Johnathan Gilbert," Pearl spat the name like acid on her tongue, a gesture that looked out of place on the otherwise elegant woman, "discovered that I was a vampire? He turned on me immediately! All his falsely ardent declarations of love, suddenly forgotten."

"Not sure how I could have forgotten, since I led the entire operation to get you out!" Anna shot back, growing visibly annoyed.

Pearl softened immediately, retracting. In truth, her emotions were a bit erratic after the trauma of nearly a century and a half of desiccation. She'd have outbursts, mood swings – Anna's normally calm and collected mother – the very image of elegance – had difficulty adjusting to freedom again. Combined with having to acclimate to a modern world, this should have been expected.

Taking Aurelia's offer would honestly be ideal. But there was still Noah to worry about. At least it seemed like Damon was safe, which shocked Anna to her core, and almost made her feel guilty about leading him on about Katherine. Almost.

Maybe she was wrong about him, she thought with profound relief, and guilt - and she couldn't really afford to spend any more energy on this train of thought while her mother needed her.

Wasting little time, she texted her annoying and definitely mentally unstable roommate to come home. It was time to send him out on his wild goose chase for Katherine – to make good on her promise to give him a lead.

She'd barely had time to hit 'send' when she heard aggressive knocking on her door, combined with a decidedly familiar breathing signature.

Anna groaned. Great. Like she needed more stress today.

She opened the door to find a furious Elena outside, her chest heaving with righteous rage. "I can't believe you, Anna Zhu!" she fumed, storming inside the house.

"Come inside, Elena!" she snarked toward the figure who had already done just that.

"You ever heard of answering texts? I must have tried to reach out to you at least twenty times!"

"I've been busy," Anna gestured upstairs, sounding every bit as annoyed.

Deciding to forgo any preamble, Elena jumped right to it. "Sothatwas your big secret! The one you asked me to trust you about!"

"Yep," Anna answered simply, refusing to apologize for doing everything it took to save her mother.

"Anna, how could you?" Elena growled, throwing her arms up in exasperation. "You lied to me about being a human, fine, that I understand – you didn't owe me that information, but I was grateful that you trusted me with your secret. When you lied to me about Damon's so-called 'condition,' I let it slide. When you insinuated that you planned to use me, I was forgiving, because I understood –"

"This isn't any different, E," Anna stressed. "It's for the same reason.

"But what you did to Damon was so heartless!" Elena accused.

"He wouldn't have helped otherwise!" Anna shot back.

"How do you know?" Elena pleaded.

"I couldn't take the chance! And believe me, he would have done the same if the roles were reversed, and he knows it. Damon isrelentlesswhen it comes to protecting the people he loves. That much, I read correctly," Anna argued passionately. The tension between them was thick for several whole moments as they stared at each other in a standoff – fuming Elena against uncompromising Anna. Finally, Anna sighed, deflating a bit under the pressure of the last few tumultuous hours. She knew that Elena desperately wondered, even though she hadn't asked. "He knows that you didn't know, Elena. It's okay. I wouldn't do that to you. I wouldn't put you in that position with him."

Elena nodded, and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying. She was so sick of crying, but there were so many conflicting emotions within her. She felt ecstatic for her best friend, finally reunited the mother, whom she'd missed for over a century; she felt betrayed, but this was the least vivid of the emotions swirling within her; but there was another that lingered – that danced on the edge of her consciousness as bright and intense as the comet that lay at the center of this whole story – her heart ached for Damon. For what she imagined must have been his utterly broken, shattered, eviscerated heart.

He must have felt so unloved. So alone.

"We have to help him find her," Elena insisted, a pained edge to her voice. She'd be lying to herself if she thought that the suggestion only hurt because she felt awful about what happened to Damon. The thought of sending him after someone else – stop. Stop, Elena, she chided herself. He was never hers, she thought with a pang. Just send him away and try to forget he ever existed, she resolutely decided.

"He said he doesn't want to," Anna supplied with a surprisingly casual shrug, glad to have at least one less task to worry about. It was a welcome surprise to have Damon be considerably less of a danger than she anticipated. Maybe she owed him an apology?

Ugh, not today. She couldn't handle any more today.

"And you believe him!?" Elena replied, aghast at Anna's surprisingly blasé attitude.

Anna took a moment to truly consider, surprised by her own words. "Yes."

"I have to go see how he is," she said, though her voice was subdued, both anticipating and fearing that confrontation. She had no idea what to expect, both from Damon and from herself.

"Be careful," Anna said sincerely. Although she was positive at this point that Damon wouldn't hurt her, the entire situation was still a powder keg, and Elena's emotional pain, from what Anna could plainly see was the development of very real feelings, was more than a distinct possibility.

"He won't hurt me, Anna," Elena said with utmost certainty, like it was the most stalwart truth on which she could count. She made to leave, then suddenly turned back, squeezing Anna in a fierce embrace. "I'm still really mad at you, but I'm also so happy for you," she choked.

Anna squeezed back just as ardently, surprised to find her eyes misting with tears. "I know, E. Thank you. For everything."

Elena nodded, blinking back her own tears. "Of course," she whispered.

Elena stood outside of the Boarding House, trying to gather her nerve. Would he come greet her like last time? Signature smirk ever-present and sardonic retort in hand? She waited one, two, three moments. Nothing.

Feeling awkward just walking in, she knocked on the door and waited. After several seconds, she realized that she couldn't hear any approaching footsteps, but a quick tug showed her the door was unlocked. Should she?

Yes, she would. He was her friend, and she needed to check on him.

Elena gingerly walked into the Boarding House, unsure of what she'd find in there. Immediately, she was hit with the pungent smell of bourbon, marked by the stains on Damon's precious rug.

This wasn't good. Last time, he wouldn't even let her touch his couch with her shoes.

The bottles were scattered everywhere, while an immobile Damon lay half-on, half-off one of the sofas, gazing blankly into the ceiling. He looked completely indifferent to his surroundings, not so much as acknowledging her presence.

She tilted her head to the side, trying to will away any sign of dismay from her face, a forced playful smile replacing it. "It's like a bourbon distillery exploded in here."

Expecting their usual repartee to immediately take place, Elena braced herself for a witty remark, trying to sharpen her own series of retorts in anticipation of what he might say.

Instead, he said nothing. Elena's face fell.

"Damon?" she called softly, stepping forward. She could have sworn she saw him twitch, barely, but that was all. She waded through the veritable obstacle course of bottles to take a seat next to him. Tenderly, she reached out to take his hand, relieved when he allowed it. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, you know, walking on sunshine," he drawled, finally looking considerably more alive. The signature smirk Elena had come to know as his mask was back.

She looked dubious to Damon, as if trying to decide whether or not to pursue her earlier line of questioning. He hoped she wouldn't.

But secretly, unwilling to admit this even to himself, he wished that she would. He wanted to badly for someone to care - for her to care. He practically craved it. If his conscious mind had even an inkling that this was true, however, he likely would have run from any interactions with her. Thankfully, Damon was a wiz at denial.

"It's okay to admit you're hurt, Damon," Elena soothed, scooting closer as he finally sat up straight. "What she did to you was awful."

"No, I don't get hurt, Elena," Damon mocked, a musically wry timbre in his voice affecting jocularity that he didn't feel.

Inside, he was a wreck. The one-two punch of Katherine's betrayal and his humanity fully returning left him positively reeling. Every emotion he'd kept at bay for over 60 years now – every bout of empathy – assaulted him full-force. All the murders he committed in New York in the '70s, the Boarding House massacre of the '90s.

Leaving Enzo behind.

Maybe he deserved to have Katherine lie to him and string him along this way. He was nothing but a monster. He didn't deserve to be loved. Or even tolerated.

Almost every time he closed his eyes he saw the bodies, the scalpels, Enzo's screaming face in the flames.

He deserved hatred. He'd give them something to hate, he thought with an inward sneer.

Maybe that way he wouldn't allow anyone else to ever get close enough to hurt him again, either.

"You mean you don't admit you get hurt," Elena insisted, not buying it, then bit her lip – finding it ironic that her next words would wound her immeasurably. She squeezed his hand with reassurance that she didn't feel, her own heart breaking, bracing herself. "Anna and I can help you find her – Katherine," she said, surprised that her voice only shook a little.

He looked up sharply, his features immediately contorting in a mixture of rage and anguish. "I don't want to find her!" he cried, aghast at the notion, snatching his hand back.

"Damon…"she reached out.

"No, I mean it Elena!" he interrupted, growing increasingly agitated. "Why the f*ck would I want to find that lying bitch?"

She shrank back, never having seen him like this – and then she realized. Seeing her – her face – must have hurt him more. "I'm sorry – I shouldn't have come –" she said shakily, abruptly moving to get up, to get away.

Immediately softening, he took both of her hands back in his, his eyes filled with contrition. She didn't deserve this. All Elena had ever done was try to help him. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken it out on you. It's not your fault."

Elena felt her heart flutter when he squeezed her hands, for an entire moment believing that he was truly looking at her this way – that the affection in his gaze was meant for her – forgetting that she looked like Katherine, but the realization returned like always, and her heart sank like a dead weight deep in her soul. Her presence must have been so painful for him, after that betrayal. What was she thinking? "I – I didn't think. I forgot that just seeing me is probably a reminder." At his furrowed brow, confusion clearly written on his handsome features, Elena moved to elaborate. "Because I look like her."

"Elena, no," he sighed, emphatically refusing to let her believe this. "No. You're not any kind of painful reminder. You don't make me think of her." At her dubious look, he forcefully repeated, "you don't."

How she wished that were true, but she had so much trouble believing it. After fighting to save Katherine for 145 years, would he really just be able to let her go so quickly? Her eyes were downcast, unable to meet his, while she tried to gather her bearings. This was about his betrayal – his pain – not hers. It took all her willpower to finally look at him, and force a smile on her face. She studied him, looking him up and down. His normally well put-together appearance was in disarray. He looked to have missed a button and his shirt was decidedly wrinkled riding up his side, revealing a fraction of sculpted abdominal muscles that made her mouth suddenly dry, prompting her to look away. Her gaze landed on his neck - a lipstick stain. Peripherally, she thought she saw discarded lingerie in the distance. Elena fought back a strangled cry, hating herself for being so wounded by the image. Although she could have guessed just by Damon's flirtatious energy that he must have sought out that kind of entertainment regularly, seeing actual evidence of it rattled her more than she cared to admit. His 'company' must have left a while ago, she reasoned, and forced herself to look into this eyes. Somehow, she managed to conjure a smirk. "Aren't we grungy today? Looks like Anna and I had the right idea about your wardrobe change."

He smiled – sincerely. A flash of life back in his eyes. It sent Elena's heart soaring over a precipice.

She braced herself for one of his signature comebacks that didn't come. Instead, the cerulean expanse of his eyes took on a decidedly vulnerable expression, peering deep within her own dark gaze. He studied her – there was something so guileless, so trusting in the way he looked at her that seemed to beckon her to reward his trust, not to hurt him. "You really didn't know?" Damon asked, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. She felt his query more than heard it, the stark vulnerability in his eyes soaring straight into her heart.

She shook her head, returning as much sincerity. "I didn't know, Damon," she all but whispered. "I'm so sorry."

He brought one of her hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against the pulse point of her palm. She felt a shiver run through the course of her body. The gesture felt profoundly intimate, but somehow not sexual – which was unexpected, coming from him. Instead, it was pure affection, gratitude for being her. Until then, she doubted that he was capable of such a gesture.

"Thank you," he said softly.

She stared numbly for a whole few seconds, wondering if she'd survive this. Everything within her fought to keep him out of her heart, but she already knew it was a losing battle. It was only a matter of time. The thought devastated her. How easily he could break her. She'd fight to keep her heart for as long as it took. A smile that didn't reach her eyes, "Anytime." The space and sound of heartbeats traversed the room as the energy dissipated, reforming into something new – something neither was willing to accept. Not yet. "I should go," she whispered, praying internally that this wouldn't spiral out of control, but already knowing that it would.

He nodded. "Go keep that diary of yours safe, Elena – for now," he said with a subtle threat, and a wink that she found both obnoxious and endearing.

She couldn't help the laugh that escaped, her thoughts a whirlwind as she slowly made her way to the front door. In the distance, she heard a rhythmic whirring noise. She turned to ask Damon about it, but he was gone, evidently using his supernatural speed to blur away. She followed the source of the sound and was shocked to find a washing machine in the middle of a load downstairs.

Of course, it probably shouldn't have surprised her. Damon and Stefan certainly wore clothes, so it stood to reason that they'd have to be cleaned. She just didn't automatically associate soothing quite so domestic with them - a pair of vampire brothers.

Elena looked at the washing machine, cycling through whites. She fingered her beloved scarf delicately. It was made of cashmere – a gorgeous, vivid crimson. It'd get ruined in the wash, but – but it would definitely stain the clothing. And maybe it'll incite a strong enough reaction in Damon to knock him out of his funk.

With a shaky sigh, she took it off and threw it into the machine before she could change her mind, nodding for good measure, remembering that the closest he'd come to a real smile from him all evening resulted from a reminder of their ever-present prank war.

If it helped Damon be a letter less miserable – if it spread some measure of joy – maybe it would indeed be the scarf's best use.

She dug around in her pockets, and smirked when her fingers found an even better ingredient to join her scarf – a small bottle of glitter she pilfered at the pageant.

Into the washing machine, the contents went.

Following that, she took off her green socks and threw them in, hoping that they would fade in the wash, too. There, enough.

With that, she slammed the lid on the machine hard enough for Damon to hear even in his half-drunken, half-depressed state, and ran out of the house, stifling the most massive giggle she'd felt in ages.

It didn't take Stefan long to return from his hunt. By that point, Damon's had retreated into his bedroom, to undergo his nearly nervous breakdown in privacy. How the f*ck did she manage to burrow so deeply into his heart? Despite the pain, there was a part of him that was almost relieved that he could stay in Mystic Falls, to be closer to her and he hated himself for it.

Because while he was acutely aware that he was falling for her, he was just as cognizant of the fact that she didn't love him. How could she? How could anyone? He groaned, then threw the tumbler in his hand into the fire.

Elena was just being sweet, kind. She felt sorry for him, he sneered.

How did he manage to get himself into an even worse conundrum than with Katherine? This was supposed to be harmless fun!

At least Katherine was every bit as monstrous as him – at least –

His reverie was interrupted by Stefan's annoyed shout from downstairs. He instinctively smirked. This should be good. Just the thing he needed to brighten his day.

He blurred downstairs without a second thought to find Stefan's forehead muscles in a mealy workout, trying to break their own personal record, while he scowled at a no-longer-white tank top in his hand. Instead, it seemed to be a mess of patches - stained with green and red, and sprinkled with a generous coating of glitter.

Damon could do absolutely nothing about the uproarious guffaw that he unleashed. "Trouble at Santa's workshop, Steffie?"

"Screw you, Damon. What the hell is this?"

"Don't ask me! You're the one whose Backstreet Boys tanks look like they're covered in elf vomit," Damon sassed, enjoying every bit of their interaction.

"A red scarf and green socks? And glitter? Don't you have anything better to do with your Saturday night? This is the thanks I get for taking care of you after Katherine?" Stefan asked sulkily. "For having to wear earplugs after you brought home - what was her name again? Krystle with a K?" he mocked the chosen moniker.

Damon stepped forward, taking the proffered items from his mopey brother's hands to analyze them. Elena's scarf – he recognized it from her visit earlier today, and suddenly there was a deep warmth spreading through his chest at the gesture. It was undoubtedly ruined – the material not meant for a warm machine wash. Something inside him chocked as he realized that she sacrificed it to make him feel better – to snap him out of the near-depression, attention that the two-faced bitch that inspired it didn't deserve – to make him laugh.

Elena undoubtedly must have thought that the clothing was his, an effort to continue their prank war. He pocketed the scarf and went back upstairs, suddenly feeling scores lighter.

The next evening found Elena journaling furiously. She had so many emotions to process. Yes, Anna lied, but she also did it to save her mom. And while Anna said that she was positive that Damon wouldn't have helped otherwise, Elena wasn't so sure. She didn't see what Elena saw – how he tried to help her, despite pretending to be an unfeeling monster.

There was something about him – something vulnerable – that he tried to hide. And yet, she'd seen it brave its face enough to know just how beautiful and powerful it could be.

But a part of her understood. This was her mother, and Anna was unwilling to leave anything to chance. Who's to say that Elena would act any differently if she were in her place?

And Damon – Damon said he didn't want to search for Katherine. That he didn't see Katherine when he looked at her. The intensity, and affection, and vulnerability of his gaze when he looked at her.

She wanted to badly to believe him.

But she couldn't handle a horribly shattered heart on top of everything, not now. Before she could properly analyze her thoughts, she heard a knock on her window.

Behind it, she found his smirking face – seemingly back to normal. Her heart fluttered in outright relief.Speak of the devil. He must have been standing on her trellis, probably angling for another invite.

His eyes were aglow with mirth, and it melted everything inside her. She opened the window, her laughing face hanging out to greet his. Before she could say anything, she found a rectangular, giftbox shoved into her hands. "Bribe to get inside?"

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Oh Elena, Elena. I don't need a bribe for that. My reputation's going to do that work for me."

She blushed, but pretended not to understand his innuendo. "And yet, my diary's safe."

"For now," he winked, then tossed her what looked like a compass.

She barely caught it as it awkwardly flew from hand to hand until she finally got a handle on it, prompting a chuckle from him. She looked at him quizzically. The arrow pointed to him. "What's this?"

"Vampire-detecting compass that I stole from the Council. Can't let them get their grubby little hands on it now that I've decided to stick around," he winked, delighting in and utterly charmed at the naked joy that flooded her face at the news. "Wanted to keep it someplace safe."

"Safe even from you," she purred with a wink of her own to save face, leaning on her windowsill with her elbows, yet unable to keep the genuinely wide smile from lighting her face.

"Again. For now," he said, then pressed a kiss into her hand, predictably accelerating her heartbeat and the flush to her cheeks. She had to distinct impression that this was precisely his plan. "Goodnight, Elena," he breathed, and blurred into the night, leaving her flushed and flustered.

She pulled back into her room to examine the contents of his present.

Inside, she found an even prettier red scarf than the one she sacrificed, completely new. She marveled at the intricate stitching – its unusual, wavy design. How did he find it so quickly? A giggle and a joyful smile rose on her face of its own accord at the gesture, touched beyond measure. She fingered the soft material, luxuriating as she pressed it against her cheek.

This one was even more special now, because it came from him.

Inside, she found a note in old-fashioned cursive. The message blurred with each coming word, as the tears in her eyes sprang forth, touched by the gesture.

To the most inimitable person I've ever met. Her mind and heart are beautiful, and completely her own. She's no one's copy. She's original, unique, and when I look at her, I see only her. She's Elena. And she's an enormous pain in my ass.

- Damon

P.S. Steffie extends his thanks for finally helping him land his audition as Santa's Mopiest Elf.

Chapter 16: The Way of the Waystation

Chapter Text

Mid-October 2009

The following day saw Anna invite Elena to the quarry for a thermos full of hot cocoa, an apple pie from the Grill, and a much-needed conversation, the subject of which was making the vampire objectively nervous.

Anna looked worn out, Elena thought – which was unusual for her. Before Anna revealed the secret of her immortality, Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline often wondered how the girl always managed to look so perfectly rested and alert, despite frequently being out quite late with them, and clearly having the same amount of sleep.

Even when having gone without a wink of it, she'd frequently look fresh and rested.

Now it made sense, of course. The boon of immortality did wonders for one's complexion.

Except this was the first time Elena had actually seen dark circles under Anna's eyes. She narrowed her eyebrows in consternation. "You okay?"

Anna seemed distracted with pouring the cocoa into their respective cups and cutting the pie. "sh*t! Forgot the whipped cream."

"Anna?"

"Hm?" Anna looked up, clearly not having heard her interlocutor. "I normally would have made the pie myself," she said, her nose wrinkling at the taste after she took a tiny, experimental bite, "but the house has been a cacophonous mess," she divulged, then muttered to herself. "At least Noah's finally gone."

"He is?" Elena asked, having caught the phrase much to Anna's surprise. She must have been louder than she realized.

"Yeah. Mama and I told him that when Katherine feels especially paranoid, she has a trick where she hides out in a small town and compels everyone to forget she exists unless she's speaking to them. And she's definitely paranoid now, since her tomb cover story's blown. It's a pretty clever ruse, actually," Anna grudgingly admitted.

"So now Noah's going to search every small town for weird anomalies, coast to coast?" Elena smirked in amusem*nt, though if she had to be perfectly honest, she felt quite sorry for him. Katherine clearly didn't want him either. Damon obviously had the right idea to move on, which she hoped was genuine. Shouldn't Noah do the same? Being so obsessed with a woman who continued to spurn him must have been painful, not to mention profoundly unhealthy.

Anna just shrugged, not particularly caring, as long as he was gone. This meant that taking her mother to the Himalayas to heal finally became a realistic option.

"Why is he so…?" Elena trailed off, not wanting to sound so rudely judgmental about someone who may have actually been Anna's friend, though judging by the way she spoke about him, it didn't seem to be the case.

"Obsessed with her? Who the hell knows? Katherine,ensnares, like I said. She knows exactly what to say. She's great at analyzing what makes people tick, and then weaponizing it to crawl deep inside. I've seen her do it again and again when she and Mama spent a lot of time together," she said, handing Elena a paper plate holding a piece of pie and a spoon.

"Damon and Stefan seem okay," Elena said before taking a bite of the pastry. Perhaps it wasn't the best apple pie she ever tasted, but Anna was definitely overreacting, Elena thought. Then again, when she thought of Anna's eggplant rollatini… Elena caught herself near-drooling at the memory, and quickly propelled her mind back to the present.

"That's debatable," Anna snarked. At Elena's amused-yet-disappointed glance, she rolled her eyes and relented with a snicker. "Okay, fine,fine. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Salvatore isn'tthatbad – neither of them."

"You owe Damon an apology," Elena pointedly pressed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Ugh, I know – I know," Anna scoffed. "Doesn't mean that I'm happy about it. But first," she said, her tone considerably gentler as she let a profoundly vulnerable gaze wander to her friend. It wasn't often that Anna Zhu let her guard down this way – a feeling with which she wasn't entirely comfortable yet, if she had to be perfectly honest – but she was cognizant enough to know that Elena deserved it. "I'm sorry, E."

"Good," Elena replied with an unusual amount of haughtiness for her.

"I mean it," Anna insisted, taking Elena's hands in hers to emphasize her sincerity. "You've been really kind and forgiving with me, but you have to understand – I couldn't take the chance – not with my mom's life."

"I know," Elena relented, the gentleness in her tone matching Anna's as she squeezed her hands. She had so much trouble staying mad.

"And this is – weird for me," Anna admittedly awkwardly. "I've been on my own for so long. I don't even remember the last time I had a real friend. So, this –trust– it doesn't really feel natural. But I'm trying, E. I really am."

"I know you are," Elena said empathetically, before biting her lip nervously. She had to make a stand. "But! No more lies. You have to trust me from now on."

"I promise," Anna confirmed, relieved that this part of the conversation went so well – though her anxiety about act two was no closer to abating.

"And in the spirit of trust, look what Damon gave me," Elena said, taking the compass out of her jacket pocket and placing it on the blanket, its arrow pointing at Anna. "So, this is what the Gilbert watch was for."

"That's the compass that identified Mama as a vampire," Anna breathed. "Why did he give it to you?"

"He said he wanted to keep it someplace safe since he planned to stick around, so he stole it from the Council," Elena smirked. "I guess I'm Mystic Falls' new honorary Protector of the Illicit Contraband."

"With a collection of one," Anna needled, grinning. "I might have something to add to it. Mama mentioned stealing a device from Johnathan Gilbert, but I don't know where it is yet."

"What does it do?" Elena asked, frowning.

"No idea," Anna shrugged. "The plan was to ask Aurelia's witch friends to analyze it. Somehow, I doubt Sheila's going to be all that forthcoming, what with all the threats she threw mine and Damon's way on the night we got the tomb open. And I doubt Bonnie's knowledgeable enough yet to figure it out."

"They're still here?" Elena asked, surprised. "I thought they left that night."

"Which brings me to the next part of our talk," Anna winced. "Now that Noah's gone, and I know that Damon won't hurt you – and probably won't let you get hurt by anyone else, since he seems to have formed some kind of attachment to you," she explained with an eyeroll at the obvious smile and blush lingering on Elena's cheeks. "Nice scarf, by the way. New?" she inquired suggestively. "From the way you've been not-so-subtly nuzzling it, I think I can figure out where it came from."

"When I went to check on Damon, the closest he came to actually smiling was when I reminded him of our prank, so I went downstairs and threw my red scarf, my green socks, and that whole bottle of glitter I stole from the pageant into his cycle of whites," Elena revealed with a wicked grin. "Turns out they were Stefan's."

Anna guffawed. "Nice! A worthy sacrifice. I wish I could have been there to see his face."

"Me, too!" Elena squealed excitedly.

The girls spent the next few minutes in comfortable laughter, and Anna just allowed herself to enjoy the moment of relative peace before she dropped her bombshell. She knew Elena would be upset, but of course understanding. That's why she loved her best friend so much.

It was time.

"Listen, E," Anna began uncomfortably. "Mama's not acclimating too well – and," she stalled for a few seconds, playing with the remnants of pie on her plate. "I'm going to take up Aurelia's offer to bring her to the wellness center she runs. It's her best bet."

"Yeah, I completely understand," Elena nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She had a feeling she knew what Anna's next words would be, and she felt horribly selfish for being so premeditatively crushed by them.

"I can't let her go alone," Anna pleaded. "I just got her back. I have to take her – make sure she's okay."

"I…" Elena sighed, playing with her new scarf in her hands in an effort to soothe herself. "I know. You have to do what's best for your mom."

"I'll be back!" Anna was quick to reassure. "I just don't know when. I have to at least stay to help her get settled, which probably means that I'll miss Halloween," she added with a pang of disappointment.

"So much for going as Sexy Vampire Twins –" Elena sulked, then her eyes danced with mirthful epiphany. "That was another hint, wasn't it?"

"Guilty!" Anna toasted with a clip of cocoa to Elena's awaitingclinkas the two girls drank and lapsed into another comfortable silence. "I'll wear it at the 'Center of Serendipity,'" Anna announced with faux magnanimousness at the loaded name, equipped with air quotes and a playful eye-roll. "Probably get made fun of by all the other vamps for leaning in the to cliché. The things I do for you."

Elena smiled in return, awash with conflicting emotions. "When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow," Anna replied, a weight on her chest. She had the oddest feeling that she couldn't quite shake, but she didn't know why.

"What are you going to tell the school?"

"I don't know. Family emergency? I'll just compel them to not look into it too much," Anna shrugged casually.

"Anna! You can't abuse compulsion so much," Elena admonished, then dropped her voice. "Won't it create irreparable brain trauma, if it's done so much? It can't be healthy."

Anna laughed. "Who told you that?"

"I…" Elena trailed off, not entirely sure. "I just assumed."

"I think that's on me," Anna admitted. "I got you all obsessed with this when I fabricated Damon's 'condition,'" she grinned. "But no, there haven't been any noticeable long-term effects on the brain from excessive compulsion use."

"How do you know?" Elena challenged. "Has it been studied?"

"What? No, it hasn't been – Why would there –?" Anna retorted, growing increasingly amused. "Okay, nerd. Go start a study. Get a control group going and document your results," she sassed. "You can publish your research onThe Secret Vamp Journal of Non-Medicine. You'll probably need to get some mice or whatever."

"Maybe I will," Elena replied smugly.

"Yeah, you do that. In the meantime, I have a few affairs to settle before I have to get going," Anna lamented. "We're leaving early in the morning for our flight."

"You know what this means, right?" Elena smiled impishly. "Girls' night!" she continued cheerfully, without giving Anna a chance to respond. "I'll call Bonnie and Care."

"Hey, dick," Anna called to a surprised Damon mid-bourbon pour. He looked considerably better than she imagined given the circ*mstances, but the usual carefree jocularity was gone from his eyes, now clouded and undeniably troubled. His humanity must be back, Anna surmised. "Where's Santa's Little Veggie-Vamp Helper?"

Damon grinned sincerely, eyes twinkling in amusem*nt at his brother's very grumpy attitude over the last few days. "Trying to get your buddy's avant-garde paint job off his precious boy band uniform. The squirrels prefer the classic look, so they've been running away extra hard in protest of hisFashion Don't."

Anna shrugged with a smirk of her own. "Yeah, well, Stefan could use the exercise. He looks like most of his workout happens between his eyebrows."

"He definitely puts those muscles to good use. To what do I owe the…" Damon deliberately trailed off, pretending to think of what he'd use in place of 'pleasure.' "Reliably annoying interruption?"

"I owe you an apology," Anna said contritely. Damon raised his eyebrows, prompting her to continue. "That was it," she said flatly.

"Wow, still the very definition of eloquence, Anna. How could I expect anything else?" he quipped.

"I need to leave for a little while – make sure my mom is out of harm's way while she acclimates to the modern world. Since you gave Elena an oh-so-beautiful scarf, that she just adores oh-so-much, would you be a dear and make sure nothing happens to it? She likes to get herself into trouble, and she'd be just crushed if she had to lose another favorite accessory."

"Why, of course, Anna," Damon clutched his chest dramatically. "I'll protect Elena and her scarf – for you andonlyfor you. Because your requests are so important to me, as is your opinion."

"Whatever," Anna smirked, relieved by what she'd found. He was obviously planning to protect her, anyway. Good. Although she suspected that leaving Elena alone with only Damon and Stefan in town would be safe, based on what her friend described, she had to see for herself. Confirming her suspicions with profound relief, Anna only elaborated by once again affirming to Damon that he was indeed, a "dick," and promptly blurred away, ending their meeting on a verbal bookend.

Late October 2009

It had been a few days since Anna left, and Elena missed her terribly. Girls Night had been an absolute blast. Although the remaining three friends certainly felt awful for keeping Caroline out of the supernatural loop, they decided that given the head cheerleader's propensity for gossip, it was probably for the best that she didn't feel tempted by such a dangerous secret. Instead, they just told her that Anna had to visit an aunt out of the country, and that Noah wouldn't be able to return, because he got a job in Seattle. Since Anna had become so attached to the town, her aunt would most likely return with her to act as her guardian henceforth.

The fact that her so-called aunt was her actual allegedly dead mother was left unsaid.

And so the night was spent on movies, a bottle of wine snuck from Jenna's stash, and gushing about boys - though that was mostly Caroline. The girls had a tearful goodbye before Bonnie left with Anna, presumably to help her get in touch with Aurelia to meet them once she and her mother arrived.

And that was that. No contact in days. Anna did mention that it would be difficult to get in touch given the magical nature of the cloaked wellness center, but Elena had expected something, at least. As is, she'd been obsessively checking her phone and email for any sign of her vampiric friend. She understood, but her heart still ached. She missed Anna so, so much.

Anna took her mom and left to the Himalayas, because she wanted to make sure that her transition went as smoothly as possible, and Elena felt so alone. She chided herself for being so selfish. Of course, Anna did the right thing. Her mother had just gone through a highly traumatic experience, and this was a town seemingly on perpetual high alert against vampires – she couldn't afford to have her stand out like a sore thumb. She'd only just gotten her back. Anna couldn't lose her again.

Of course, this meant that Elena was without her best friend for the foreseeable future. She took out her journal and pen, preparing to process the day's events through some stream-of-consciousness writing when her phone rang. Her heart nearly catapulted from her chest. It was Damon!

"Glitter Givers, Anonymous! We make your secret dreams come true! How's our latest client?" Elena cheerfully greeted.

Damon sighed dramatically over the phone."Despondent. It appears my brother failed his audition to Elf Idol on account of not being festive enough. There just wasn't enough glitter. We might have to go bigger next time – maybe stitch some party lights in."

Elena shook her head, affecting her best chiding voice. "I'm sorry, sir, but our products are thoroughly examined by test audiences for full festiveness effectiveness. I'm afraid that the problem must be with the subject in question."

"You're right. You're right – I can't deny that poor Stef has a rare condition,"he lamented theatrically."You see, when he was a little boy, he had a hunting accident. He tripped over a stick, and it got shoved so far up his –"

"Damon!" Elena interrupted with a laugh, trying and utterly failing to sound admonishing. "Where is he, anyway?"

"On the way to the airport to pick up his annoying bestie, who's coming to town for his birthday."

"When's his birthday?" she asked curiously, sorting the information for Caroline, just in case. Oh, who was she kidding? Caroline probably already snooped his birthday, vitals, and any other identifying information he concocted for his current round of pretending to be human.

"On the first. You know those memes where you see with two pictures side-by-side? Everyone's having a blast on Halloween on the one marked 'thirty-first,' and then you see these really morose, un-fun people representing 'the first?' That's Steffie. He's that meme."

"You know you love him," Elena chided with a smile. "I've seen it. You can't lie to me."

"I love how sexy, witty, brilliant, and charming I am by comparison, yeah. Stef's useful like that. He's a great foil."

She giggled, skipping downstairs to fix herself a little midnight snack. Jenna had gone up to Duke for a few days to work on her thesis and Jeremy was apparently spending the night at theLockwood Mansion, of all places. The two former enemies somehow managed to bond over some sketches that Tyler unwittingly revealed and were now workshopping new ideas to each other on weekends. Who knew Tyler was an artist!? That didn't fit with his jock MO at all. She nervously wondered what his douchey father would do if he ever found his artwork.

Putting the thought aside for a moment, she reached into the bowl on the table for a McIntosh apple, her favorite, while listening to Damon entertain her with a story about his 'very dull Council meeting' and his inventive nicknames for everyone involved.

She joyfully tossed the apple in her hand up and down, unwilling to investigate the instant upswing in her mood that occurred quite suddenly after Damon called her. She smiled into the phone.

Unnoticed by Elena, the vampire-detecting compass that she placed on the counter suddenly sprang to life and pointed to the adjacent room.

Chapter 17: We've Got Paradigm Shifts!

Chapter Text

"I swear, Damon, if you mess with the Miss Mystic Falls pageant and rig some dumb new rule to make me say something embarrassing, I'm putting sawdust in your blood bags. Yeah, Anna told me what it does," Elena threatened after Damon insinuated how much fun it would be to introduce some foul play to a pageant in which she didn't even want to participate, then took a bite out of her apple as she walked to the counter to pour herself a glass of water. There was a strange clicking noise.

"Wow! Did Annaactuallytell you what it does?"Damon teased dubiously over the phone.

No, she didn't. She just insinuated that it would be really bad when she threatened to do it herself while they were nursing their frustrations with champagne on the night of the nightmare that was Little Miss Miss Mystic Falls.

"Yes, she did," Elena lied, increasingly distracted by the sound. She went to investigate.

"Uh huh,"Damon snarked, not believing her for a second."Ooh, kinky! Wood hurts vampires, Elena. I didn't know you were into that," he purred."That's okay. We can play. My safe word is You're a Terrible Liar."

Elena smiled and shook her head into the receiver, rolling her eyes, though her mood immediately shifted when she got to the counter. "That's strange," she said approaching the source of the clicking noise. "The compass is moving," she observed, before narrowing her eyes playfully, fighting the hopeful smile that was intent in subtly creeping up her face. "You're not around, are you?"

There was a brief pause before she heard Damon's response, his cadence almost forcefully casual – except she could almost feel the slightest tremor in it, and her anxiety instantly spiked – as though the fear in him transferred to her."Elena, was that an apple bite I heard earlier? And you didn't even wash it? Ew, groooss."

"Jenna washed them when she brought them home," Elena replied, confused by the abrupt change of subject.

"You should go wash that apple before you take another bite. I insist,"he said very seriously.

"I really think we need to have an intervention about your neat-freak tendencies and boundaries," Elena sassed, then let her lips curve into a smile. "Unless you want to extend your services to my room? After I hide all personal items with compromising info, of course. It might even net you an invite," she teased.

"I can't keep talking to you while imagining all those disgusting little germs crawling all over your mouth, ew. You're like a walking petri dish,"Damon said, through what sounded like intense wind in the background."All I can see is them jumping onto the receiver. What if I have to touch your phone?"

"Oh my God, fine!" Elena replied, rolling her eyes. "Where are you, anyway? It sounds like you're going through a tunnel."

As Elena turned on her sink to wash her apple, she heard a completely toneless Damon on the line, careful not to allow the slightest inflection to enter his voice to make it that much harder for supernatural ears to discern."Elena, listen to me very carefully. Don't make any sudden movements. You need to get out of the house. Now.Very slowly, casually, walk to the nearest exit – door, window – doesn't matter. If you run and make it obvious, whatever vampire is in your house will immediately realize what you're doing and they're faster than you. I'll be right there to get you, okay?"

Now truly afraid, Elena just nodded numbly and turned off her sink before quickly grabbing the wooden spoon, mindful of what he revealed earlier about the material's danger to vampires. "Okay," she said into the phone, trying to sound nonchalant, though the tremble in her voice was obvious. She began a very slow trek to the front door.

"Finally! So back to what I was telling you before, if you stick some wood into a vampire, you can really hurt them. If you stick it into the heart, you kill them,"Damon explained a little too cheerfully. It sounded forced to her. Now she knew why.

Elena opened her mouth to reply, before a hand clamped over it, and another pinned her arms to her sides, causing her to drop her phone and the apple, but she was grateful that she managed to hold tight to the spoon. She struggled against the hold for several seconds, before lodging the long end of the spoon into his side. Initially shocked at her strength at being able to impale him, she chalked it up to 'fight or flight' response and angled to get away. It was enough for him to let her go. She seized the opportunity to make a run for it, knowing all sense of subterfuge had gone out the window just as she hoped she would, but he caught her by the arm before she could so much as move a foot away.

She quickly turned to face him; the shock and terror evident in her gaping dark eyes as she took him in.

"Elena!You're a quick learner. Apple doesn't fall too far from the tree, huh?" Her attacker chuckled, gesturing to the discarded fruit rolling away. He removed the spoon from his torso, and threw it across the room, never taking his eyes off her.

"N-noah!" Elena fearfully stuttered, slowly backing away toward the door. Ever since the day they'd met, he'd given her the creeps. The way he seemed to watch her with fascination – the way he'd say her name, as though he caught her in a lie. "I thought you were on your way to the Pacific Northwest to look for Katherine."

"Oh, I was, I was," he allowed. "But then I realized that I was coming to see her empty-handed! Everyone knows that when requesting an audience with the Queen, you need a worthy tribute – and she'd beveryinterested in you,Elena." He said her name in that peculiar way again – like he had gleefully just discovered some scheme of falsified identity. It brought revolting shivers up her spine.

"H-how did you get in?"

"Your little brother invited me when I delivered your pizza last night. Tsk tsk," he chided. "He should really be more careful with who he invites into the house, with so many vampires afoot. You did tell him about vampires, didn't you, Elena?" he mocked as Elena presumed that he already knew the answer.

Elena swallowed a lump in her throat as she continued to subtly inch toward the door backwards, desperately hoping he didn't intuit her intentions. Maybe she'd be able to make it – just a little bit more. She was about to reach for the handle, when with dizzying speed, Noah blurred toward her and clamped a hand over her mouth again, dragging her toward the kitchen.

At that same moment, her front door was ripped open, Damon on the other side. To Noah, he looked furious – but Elena could see the worry lining the creases of his eyes.

Damon was petrified.

"Salvatore!" Noah beamed. "What fun seeing you here. Would you like to come in?" he mocked, giddy as Damon crashed against the invisible barrier. "Oh, looks like you haven't been invited. What do you think, Elena? Can Damon come in?"

Elena kicked and struggled against his hold, trying desperately to nod, to invite him – anything – but his hand muffled all her cries. In answer to his own question, it moved her head from side to side, joined by his caustic laughter.

"Oh, look! Guess Elena says you can't. Now why don't you go wander off? Elena and I have some business to attend to, right, sweetheart?" Noah asked, forcing Elena's head to nod.

"Hey, dickhe*d. How about you let her go so that I don't have to rearrange your vertebrae to look like an avant-garde interpretation of Kat's stone cold heart. Steffie's been telling me to channel my rage into art, and I think I want to take up sculpting," Damon snarked in a manner that would have sounded almost bored to anyone who didn't know him.

Noah guffawed. "Yeah, you're so scary from way out there, Salvatore. Really, you're not needed here. Off you go. Go scamper off. This is about me and Katherine – and my gift for Katherine," he said with a leer at Elena before dragging her back toward the kitchen.

Elene tried gesturing for Damon to come inside with her hands, but was quickly blurred out of his line of sight.

"A vervain necklace? How adorable! You really think that's a barrier?" Noah mocked, ripping it off and throwing it across the room. He dragged Elena along as he grabbed a knife from one of the drawers, and pressed her into a wall with his hand still clamped over her mouth. "Oh well, if you insist on sticking around, Salvatore, you're going to get a show," he said, knowing that Damon would hear him, as he held the knife out to Elena, letting his pupils contract with compulsion. "Take this knife and start slitting your wrist. And no screaming!" he sang.

Elena froze. She knew she had no choice but to play along. It might be her only chance at an escape. She took the knife and pressed it to her wrist, desperately hoping that he'd release her for long enough to invite Damon in.

"Deeper," he urged, his voice practically toneless – the ice in it so potent it sent a veritable chill through her veins.

When she hesitated for a second and released an unconscious whimper, he was quick to note her friendship bracelet, promptly ripping that off, as well. "A bracelet, too? Just how much vervain can one person have? I think you might need to see someone about your paranoia about vampires," he said with an eerie smile. "That person is Katherine," he elaborated with a chuckle at his own joke.

Elena's heart thundered in her chest. She only had one layer of protection left – a few leaves she pressed into the pocket of her jeans. She had to sell this. If he trusted her enough to remove his hand from her mouth, she could invite Damon inside, and he'd save her. She took a steadying breath and forced her trembling hand to calm. He continued staring at her – the sudden rage in his gaze flooding her veins with ice anew. "Continue, Elena," he said calmly.

She suppressed a whimper and pressed the knife deeper, fighting every urge to scream at the excruciating pain, the nauseating sight of the skin from her wrist to nearly her elbow bisecting.

Outside, Damon was wracked with hopelessness. He told her –he told hermultiple times – to keep more vervain on her and to start f*cking drinking it. She drank it, right? She had to have. He had no line of sight from the door or any of the windows to throw something at Noah to incapacitate him – and even if he did, what if he compelled Elena to stay first? He had to act quickly.

The blood gushed from her arm and onto the floor below them. Noah smiled. "Good girl," he said, finally removing his hand to give another command. He took a step back to study her, meeting her gaze with an eager smile. "Now, Elena, I want you to –"

"Damon, co –" Elena yelled, seizing the opportunity, only for Noah to blur across the room to grab a towel and gag her with it, using another to quickly bind her hands behind her back, preventing her from making any gestures that would count as an invitation for the vampire at the house's threshold.

"Uh, uh, uh," he tutted in annoyance, pulling her back flush against his chest. "No cheating! That was a smart move – I'll give you that. But I was told you were a good girl! Don't you know that bad girls deserve to be punished, Elena?" he growled. "Taught a little discipline?"

Hoping to taunt Damon, he dragged Elena to the front door by her hair, standing mere feet away from him. He pressed her against his chest again, using one hand to hold her in place while the other hand, still clutching her hair, pulled her head to the side to expose her slender neck. With an agonizingly long sniff, he brutally bit in.

The pain was excruciating. Tears rapidly flooded her eyes as she felt her lifeforce slowly drain away. She saw Damon at the threshold – she'd never be able to tell him how she felt. She loved him, she finally admitted to herself with an agonizing pang. What perfect timing, she thought sourly. Come in - please, come in. He'd have to watch her die. She'd never see Anna again, or Jeremy, or Jenna, or Bonnie, or Caroline. Her family would have to mourn another body. Is this where she was meant to end up all along? She just hoped that Damon wouldn't think this was his fault - she'd known that feeling entirely too well, and wouldn't wish it on anyone, especially him.

Noah dragged his fangs down her neck, tearing more of her skin. She screamed into her gag.

Beyond the terror in Damon's eyes, she saw a fierce determination. There was something in his hands.

Elena felt herself growing weaker. Weaker. Suddenly, Noah let go, screaming in pain as a wooden projectile hit him in the eye.

Using the opportunity to escape, Elena made a dive for Damon's outstretched arms, letting him catch her a fraction of a second before Noah's hands reached for her, just barely missing her ankles as Damon sped them away. Once they were clear of the threshold Damon finally took in the sight of her, careful to remove her binds and gag, stroking her hair comfortingly.

"Come in, Damon. Come in, come in," Elena kept saying in a desperate, hysterical mantra as she sobbed in Damon's arms.

"Shh, I have you. You're safe now, Elena," Damon soothed, stroking her hair, her arms, her back. "You're safe," he repeated, seemingly in a cycle of his own.

"Come in, Damon. Come in, come in, come in," she repeated as she felt every wall of defense against him – against her acceptance of her own feelings for him – crumble, fully letting him into her home and into her heart.

In the numb, reality-bending minutes after Damon finally convinced her to drink some of his blood so that she wouldn't bleed out – though she strongly suspected that he would have found a way to make her drink to keep her from dying regardless – he took her hand and walked her back into her room.

Noah was gone. But he could come back and at any time – could –

She felt her heartbeat accelerating due to building anxiety; her breaths, shallow. Suddenly, she felt warm hands on her cheeks, interrupting her internal spiral. She glanced up. Damon's eyes – reassuring, protective, something else that she desperately hoped she wasn't misreading. "It's okay, Elena. He's gone. You're safe." She leaned into his touch, desperate for the comfort that it brought. They stayed in that position for several moments, both still reeling from the unexpected turn of the day's events – how close they came to losing each other.

Elena looked down, noting that she was completely covered in blood. Noah's attack on her neck was messy and brutal.

It was surreal. When she touched her neck, she fully expected the gaping wounds to still be there, but she was completely healed. She looked at her wrist - still covered in blood, but the flesh was whole. There was absolutely no indication that there was ever a laceration. The image of the knife against her wrist flashed before her, the blood gushing out, the flesh separated. She shut her eyes tightly to will it away.

And yet, she could still almost feel the pain, the terror, the helplessness. She shivered. Damon looked up at her in concern.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I need to take a shower," she whispered, her voice still coming out in broken wisps from her shock.

"I'll be here," he was quick to reassure, and Elena felt immediate relief, feeling immeasurably safer knowing that he'd still be in her room when she came back out.

As she washed the blood away, however – and there was so much blood – doubts started to creep in. Did he even want to be there? Was he only sticking around because he felt obligated? She slowly dressed in the first pair of pajamas she grabbed on her way in, her mind a whirl at the night's events.

"Cute PJs," Damon smiled from his perch on her windowsill as he saw her re-enter her room, hoping to tease her into some normalcy.

"Damon, listen – you don't have to stay. I understand if –" she began awkwardly.

"Elena, there's nowhere else I'd rather be right now. Nowhere in the world," he interrupted emphatically, coming closer to take her in his arms, comfort her again. "Okay?"

"Okay," she smiled, breathing a sigh of relief. She leaned into his chest, breathing him in – letting the warmth and comfort of his presence lull her to safety for the first time since he saved her. He saved her. Maybe – maybe he felt the same way? Her arms encircled him like a vice, and then she suddenly pulled away. Should she take a chance? Her gaze flickered to his lips again. She survived a vampire attack today. She was brave. She was strong. She could do this. She closed her eyes, anticipating the feeling of his soft lips on hers.

Damon's heartbeat accelerated when he realized that Elena was about to kiss him. Hope, unbidden, flooded his chest. He couldn't stifle the gasp of shock and joy at this finally happening. Normally, he would have made the first move ages ago, but given Elena's persistent belief that he still had feelings for Katherine - and her startling resemblance to his sire - he didn't want her to think that he was using her as any kind of substitute, so he waited. Still had feelings? He analyzed himself for a brief instant, he was stunned to realize that they were gone, so quickly. He licked his lips unconsciously as Elena's drew closer, elation flooding his very soul. But then he remembered – the conversation he had with Elena when she told him how she felt she owed Stefan for saving her life. Like he saved her today. He had to make sure.

"You don't owe me anything, Elena," Damon said emphatically, as he cupped her cheeks, gazing deeply into the expressive, dark eyes that suddenly sprang open. He wanted so badly for this to be real – not some misplaced sense of obligation, to which she was clearly prone.

Elena reeled back instantly, flinching at the sting of rejection. She nodded, blinking the tears out of her eyes. She knew she was pushing it today. He just got his heart broken, he saved her life, he insisted on staying to protect her. And how does she repay him? By taking advantage of him. She was a terrible friend. "I – I know. I'm sorry," she said, turning away, unable to face him. "I just got caught up in the moment," she lied. "Just forget it happened."

If she had kept her gaze on him, Elena would have seen the abject heartbreak in Damon's eyes that he couldn't immediately hide – the raw pain of how he imagined sawdust in his heart to feel. Of course, she didn't want him anymore. He's a vampire – and after what she experienced today, she'd never feel comfortable with him enough again. Now she knew how dangerous they all were. Now she truly did see him as a monster. It was only a matter of time, anyway. At least he didn't let her kiss him out of some ridiculous sense of gratitude – like she owed him something for saving her life.

He pulled away, and so did she, both wracked with an entirely different kind of despair from before. Perhaps if their emotions weren't in such heightened disarray from the night's earlier trauma, they wouldn't have jumped to their respective conclusions.

He numbly walked to the windowsill, taking a seat as he saw her stumble onto her bed. "Goodnight, Elena."

A few hours later, a petrified Elena bolted upright. "No, no! Come in – come in!" she gasped into the night, still in the throes of her nightmare. She hardly had time to recognize the change of scenery – now safely in her bed rather than at the mercy of Noah – when she found herself enveloped into a comforting embrace. Damon. She felt and breathed in Damon.

Instantly, she felt her respiration normalize, her heartbeat slow down.

"You're safe," he whispered in her ear, tracing patterns along her back, stroking her hair. "I'm here. I won't let him hurt you anymore."

She nodded into his shoulder, willing her trembling form to be soothed by his ministrations. "I – I can't believe I almost died today."

"But you didn't," Damon replied, wisely refraining from telling her that Noah probably wouldn't have killed her – but instead would have taken her to Katherine to be her toy, as he kept suggesting, which was arguably worse. He came so close to losing her today. Damon couldn't remember the last time he felt so terrified, pulling her closer to reassure himself that she was really here, in his arms, and not halfway across the country, the entertainment of two vampires who clearly liked playing with their food a little too much.

He would have never stopped looking for her.

"Thanks to you," she smiled, looking up at him. "You saved me," she breathed, searching his eyes as her own adjusted to the dark upon awakening. She could almost trick herself into believing she saw love there. The notion gripped her heart with ardent hope.

Damon frowned, again remembering how quickly she pulled away from him when reminded that she didn't owe him anything for the gesture. He began moving away, but she held him close.

"Please..." she whispered, before she could stop herself, the sentence trailing off. Her hand refused to let go of his, her earlier compunctions forgotten in the intensity of the moment. She desperately needed to feel him beside her, to feel safe.

"You want me to stay?" he asked, intuiting her intention. She nodded shyly. "Okay," he whispered back, lying down next to her. "I can take the nightmares away," he offered.

"How?" she asked in wonder.

"Vampires can get inside a person's head. I could influence your dreams. You'd just have to take off –" he began, stunned when she took off her necklace and bracelet before he could even finish the sentence, looking up at him with perfect trust.

He couldn't help the genuine smile that arose. Perhaps not all hope was lost. Taking her hand, he let his thumb caress the expanse of hers. "What do you want to dream about?"

She was quiet for a few long moments. "Show me the fun side of vampirism," she said pensively. "After the accident in May, I became more afraid of getting a car as time went on, and I had to force myself to. I don't want that to happen here."

"You got it, Elena," he replied in a whispered breath, and squeezed her hand, allowing his mind to guide hers.

As Elena fell asleep, she found herself in a moonlit forest, the velvet sky sprinkled with brilliant stars along the expanding Milky Way. She was elated to find that she was still holding Damon's hand. The world around them stretched into a vast horizon. As they sprinted together, they watched the trees go by at dizzying speed, running wild and free, filling the air around them with sounds of laughter.

Chapter 18: Have Yourself a Fluffy Little Interlude

Chapter Text

Late October 2009

Elena woke up to a feeling of utter contentment. She opened her eyes slowly, blearily, finding Damon sitting up next to her, leaning against the headboard.

He had her teddy bear on his lap, with a decidedly devious expression on his handsome face.

"Your little buddy and I had a very interesting conversation," he revealed with a smirk that made her heart palpitate with want.

"His name's Gummi," she sassed with a languid stretch, feeling very much at peace, at ease. Happy. A far cry from the tumult of the night before.

"Gummi?" Damon questioned wryly, his lips curling in a mischievous smirk.

"Mmhmm!" Elena chirped, not even remotely ready to leave her bed. She snuggled into her pillow, closing her eyes as she let Damon's voice wash over her, trying to vividly recall the warmth, and serenity, and perfection of being cuddled into Damon's embrace. She woke up being held protectively by him in the middle of the night for a brief few seconds, finding herself feeling utterly peaceful and safe and loved, before her body's exhaustion took its toll and she quickly fell asleep again.

She just hoped it wasn't a wishful dream.

"Well,Gummihas been telling me all kinds of interesting things in the last few hours," he teased mercilessly, "like where you keep your journals and all that good stuff, containing all your dirty little secrets." Pleased at the involuntary gasp and eye-widening terror he saw in Elena's expression as she bolted upright, he lifted the bear before his face, raising the pitch in his voice playfully, while wiggling the plushie's arms in turn with his words. "It's true!"Damon-as-Gummi squeaked."Elena keeps her journals in a hidden compartment under a loose floorboard!"

Elena paled.

"What!?" Damon theatrically gasped, a hand over his mouth. "You don't say, Gummi!" he followed, placing the bear before his face again."She writes about you so much, Damon!"he continued in a high-pitched voice, before revealing her most recent journal.

"You ass! Give that back!" A righteously angry Elena made a lunge for the journal, but Damon's vampiric reflexes made short and easy work out of avoiding her attempt to confiscate his contraband.

"It's not me, Elena!" Damon said in a profoundly exaggerated display of innocence, his hand clutching his chest. "Gummi seems to think that there are some very important facts I absolutely need to know!" The bear was in front of his face again, arms and legs wiggling."That's right, Damon! She said you were a sexy creature of the night! And that she planned to take advantage of you. Elena's a predator, Damon! I'm just trying to protect you!" Damon shook his head at Elena in melodramatic judgement and vulnerability. "Thank you, Gummi. At least someone's looking out for me."

Elena rolled her eyes, unable to resist the laughter bubbling in her chest – her head shaking in amusem*nt at Damon's antics. She affected a very serious face, drawing her eyebrows together in a frown that could rival Stefan's. Damon grudgingly admitted that he was impressed. "You can tell Gummi that I'm going to skin his traitorous hide and strip him for fuzzy little parts if he continues to betray me this way."

"Elena!" Damon gasped, Gummi's hand over his mouth. "That was positively diabolical! I think I'm turned on. Gummi, you're on your own. Elena just won me over with her scary-sexy display of ruthlessness."

"No, Damon, save me!"Damon-as-Gummi squeaked as the vampire raised the bear over his face again."Don't leave me to her whims and clutches!"he cried, wiggling the little teddy's limbs, before Elena snatched the bear away in a fit of giggles bursting from deep within her. She squeezed the bear into her rapidly aching chest, helpless against the laughter vibrating everything inside her.

"That's my kind of punishment," Damon leered suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows in that way that made Elena's heart flutter. "I've been just as bad as Gummi, you know," he said, holding her diary in front of him.

She growled, making another dive for it, and he was only too eager to reciprocate.

"The diary wasn't the only loot I found in your treasure trove,E-le-na!" Damon teased, using his vampiric speed to duck away from her attacks with ease and letting her fall flat on her face on the soft surface of the bed in the spot he'd just vacated. Suddenly, he was by the windowsill, holding a whole collection of journals and photo albums in his hands, wearing the douchiest of all grins. Inwardly, however, he was relieved to see some life breathed back into her – that she wasn't the trembling mess of the night before.

Experience told him that Elena reacted remarkably well to laughter, teasing, and play. And that's precisely what she would get, because he was determined to wipe away any adverse influence of Noah, one giggle, one playful scoff, one adorable smile at a time.

Elena, on the other hand, was profoundly undercaffeinated and decidedly not vampiric. She poutily lumbered over, acutely aware that she had a distinct disadvantage in speed and stealth. She'd have to make up for it in subterfuge. Moving considerably slower than capable, she really leaned into her grogginess, hoping to catch him off guard. Closer, closer – and then she made a dive, grinning triumphantly when she managed to score one of her journals. "Gotcha!"

"First you threaten helpless, well-meaning teddy bears, just trying to look out for a sexy vampire's virtue. Then you underhandedly snatch my well-earned entertainment away," Damon tsked. "I might as well buy you a catsuit, some thieves' tools, and call you Selina Kyle."

'Which version?" Elena purred, the early morning giving her voice a husky sultriness she didn't intend as she sidled up next to Damon.

"To be continued," he replied with a throatiness of his own, not expecting this from her. He schooled a grin and tossed the contents in his hands over to her bed. "Keep your secrets – for now," he winked. "See you tonight."

With that, he leaped out of the window, and disappeared from sight.

Damon was in a profoundly pensive mood when he arrived at the Boarding House.

He awoke that morning to find Elena's limbs intimately entangled with his – her head on his shoulder, body cuddled into his side, an arm wrapped securely around his torso, and one leg thrown over his. His own arm held her protectively against him, with the fingers of the other entwined with hers. At some point during the night, he must have fallen asleep, and their hand-holding morphed into a considerably more intimate display of its own accord. For a few minutes, he allowed himself to indulge in the feeling, the bliss of holding her – the girl he could finally admit he loved.

He loved her. f*ck. He was so screwed – again – except it was even worse this time than with Katherine, because he absolutely didn't deserve her. And it's not like she wanted him anyway. Sure, she was obviously attracted to him and wanted him in a superficial way, like everyone else, but no one could ever want what was inside – the real him. He knew that much. The whole tomb debacle was a good reminder of that constant.

And so, reality slithered in, and he reluctantly pulled away, doubtful that Elena would appreciate waking up in a position that her subconscious clearly wanted. So, he set about to do some snooping, recalling just how sexy she looked when she was all riled up. And it might get her mind off that f*ckface, Noah.

A shadow crossed over his face at the memory of seeing Elena terrified, bound, gagged, with Noah's fangs in her neck, listening to her muffled screams and watching the life in her eyes fade away while he was helpless to save her. He couldn't be sure, but it might have been the most terrifying moment of his life, with the fear and adrenaline still lingering even after he managed to rescue Elena.

But rescue Elena he did, so all in all, a successful night. He'd count it a win. And he would keep repeating it to himself every time that horrifying image appeared before his eyes.

He rescued Elena from a potentially lethal attack, so he could rest assured that she would at least be okay until nightfall, since Noah didn't seem to have any daylight jewelry. He very effectively got her hackles up, resulting in that adorable flush on her face, the sexy way her chest righteously heaved. He made her laugh, which was fast-becoming his favorite sound in all the cosmos, flooding everything within him with warmth every time he heard it. He shook the wistfully endearing smile off his face as soon as he realized. What was happening to him? He used to be so cool.

And, best of all, despite finally realizing just how dangerous vampires are, Elena still seemed to trust him, instilling him with hope.

Admittedly, this was a high against the devastating low of almost losing her the night before, but he would take what he could get. They obviously needed a more permanent solution if Noah had an invitation into her house and clearly showed no hesitation to hurt her when Anna wasn't around. He might have to bring the Forehead of Self-Righteousness in on this.

Great.

And, oh look, there was Captain Curmudgeon now, along with his trusty sidekick, Judgy Jill. Predictably, Lexi Branson, his little bro's self-righteous bestie, greeted him with a scowl. Given that when they'd last seen each other, he'd left her to fry on a roof in New York, he honestly couldn't blame her.

It didn't mean that he couldn't make this a little fun for himself, though.

It had been days since Anna arrived at the Center of Serendipity and she was – bored. The feeling surprised her. She expected to feel some kind of grand epiphany and spiritual awareness. At least her mother was adjusting beautifully. She had to admit: the witches, vampires, and handful of werewolves who ran the space did a spectacular job.

Everything felt just so remarkably serene.

Pearl was in her element, already leading a meditation group, despite having only recently arrived. As the elder vampire was the one who introduced Aurelia to the practice centuries ago, the former Bennett witch was happy to acquiesce. Anna also noted that Harper was flourishing.

Fredrick and Bethann, predictably, already tried to start several fights. Idiots.

Anna scowled. Just how long was she supposed to stay here? While she could reasonably understand the value of such an exercise, she deduced that she was likely not in the proper place in her life for it – not currently, at the very least.

And what was up with the Wi-Fi here? She'd been trying to email Elena for days! It's bad enough that she was probably missing Halloween, but her entirely-too-enamored bestie clearly needed a reminder about priorities. Those being to take embarrassing photos of all their classmates for potential blackmail purposes. Though maybe Elena didn't need to know the exact reason, Anna smirked.

"Problem?" asked an amused Aurelia over her shoulder, as Anna took out her frustration on her laptop's keys, nearly breaking them in her aggressive strokes.

"Has this place heard of a functional internet?"

"The magic that surrounds this place has an adverse effect on electronics," Aurelia revealed.

"No sh*t?" Anna asked, surprised. "Hogwarts rules? I thought the candles were just to set the ambiance. You mean you actually need them?"

"Looks like," Aurelia winked. "I can see you're a bit too restless for the tomb vampires' assigned program. Why don't we try something else, instead? Something more befitting a wild free spirit like yourself?"

"Like what?" Anna asked dubiously, having just about enough of this place.

"I thought you might be a bit more interested in our lore. Some of our witches have the ability to peer into other worlds. We've learned quite a few interesting tidbits about the origins of the doppelgängers – like your friend, Elena. And Katherine Pierce," Aurelia said, fighting to keep her voice even, but Anna had made it her business to study slights variations in tone, micro expressions, overall demeanor. It was at times the only way she survived.

And Anna found it particularly curious how Aurelia's timbre shifted when she said Katherine's name.

Elena spent the day with Bonnie and Caroline, with the latter in a frenzy ever since she found out that Stefan's birthday was the day after Halloween. After deciding that they'd expounded entirely too much energy on their annual costume ball rager and not nearly enough on celebrating the birth of her latest crush, she whipped herself up into a veritable frenzy. It took the entirety of Elena and Bonnie's combined efforts to calm her down, convince her that Stefan's very much an introvert, and probably wouldn't want the entire school invited to a surprise party.

Something low-key at the Grill would suffice, the girls agreed, and Caroline visibly sank with relief. She could do that.

Elena groaned. Halloween was the next day and she'd barely had a chance to find proper accessories for her costume.Sexy vampires, Elena scoffed. How had she not seen through Anna's subterfuge sooner?

"He's invited into her house?" Stefan asked in horror when Damon pulled him aside to tell him about Noah's attack.

"Yeah," Damon winced. "Apparently, Little Gilbert got a little too enthusiastic about his pizza right away his way. Maybe he'll make a move at the Halloween party tomorrow? We obviously can't let him live. And I somehow doubt Sexy Aunt Clueless will appreciate my spending every night in Elena's room, not that I really care what she thinks," he added with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows.

Stefan rolled his eyes.

"I can stay with her," Lexi chimed in, materializing before them having overheard the entire conversation, since she was, after all, a vampire with supernatural senses. "Definitely better company than you."

"Yeah, relax, Tall, Blonde, and Aggro. She doesn't even know you. I don't want you to spook her with your over eagerness," Damon sassed.

Lexi frowned, taking a few seconds to study him. "Your humanity's back."

"Whatever helps your jugdy little heart feel better," Damon scoffed like he needed another reminder, decidedly uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation, suddenly flooded with guilt over leaving her to die. Leaving Enzo to die. All the people he killed.

He needed to get out of there.

While she was out, Elena could reasonably convince herself that she was okay. When she came home, however – to her empty house, since Jenna was still away and Jeremy and Tyler were busy preparing their artwork for some kind of contest, apparently – the fear returned.

The Sun was setting soon, and all she could remember was the feeling of raw helplessness as Noah dragged her to and fro, his fingers clutching her hair as it pulled on her aching scalp, his fangs in her neck. The pain, the fear. She saw a shadow in her peripheral vision and jumped, only to realize that nothing was there.

With a shaky breath, she sat on her bed, covering her face with her hands. She was not okay – as much as she tried to hide from this fact all day, the night before had a chilling effect on her.

Vampires were terrifying, and one nearly killed her because she looked like a woman with whom he was obsessed. And he had an invitation into her home – her home where her family lived. She'd placed them in danger, again.

Jeremy may have been the one to invite Noah inside, but she was the reason he was even interested in their house. She began to hyperventilate. This was all her fault.

"Planning to audition for the cover ofWorrywarts Weekly? Because I have to say, I like those odds," her favorite voice in all the world quipped. Her eyes instantly shot up, and as soon as they met his, her breathing regulated, her heartbeat slowed. She felt calmer, and all seemed better again in the Universe.

He was here. She felt safe again.

He looked troubled, worried, sitting on her windowsill. Despite the smirk lining his face, there seemed to be some marked trepidation in his cerulean eyes.

"Damon!" Elena cried, relieved that he was back. The anxiety shifted into a laugh that bubbled from her chest, as she drew her knees up to hug them. "You're came," she breathed, then let her lips curve into an impish smile. "My vampy knight in haute couture, snootily-designer armor."

He got up to take a seat next to her, chancing to wrap an arm around her shoulders, visibly relieved when she unconsciously leaned into his embrace. "Psh!" he scoffed playfully. "I'm a dashing rogue. Knights are lame and overly rules-y. And they're too obsessed with their Hero Hair."

"Don't they keep their hair in a full-face iron helmet?"

"That's why they're so obsessed, Elena. They need just the right product to avoid helmet hair. Don't you know anything about supernatural fiefdoms?"

"I had no idea that supernatural fiefdoms gave such credence to haircare," she said in mock-seriousness, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

"Well, now you do," he replied in playful condescension. "Just one of the many, many, many vital lessons I've taught you. You don't appreciate me nearly enough," he sighed dramatically.

"You're right," she smirked wickedly. "I don't. Gummi was telling the truth. I'm only here to take advantage of you," she said in her best imitation of a sultry voice, delighted when it earned her a laugh.

Damon stared at her for several whole seconds, unable to control the adoring smile that girl he loved inspired, the way she was able to quiet the raging inferno within him. f*ck, he was screwed. Using entirely too much effort, he collected himself. "What's on the agenda for tonight's dream?"

Chapter 19: This is Halloween! Vampires Bite in the Dead of Night!

Chapter Text

Halloween 2009

They were supposed to be dressed as vampires together, Elena pouted as she applied the dark red mixture to corner of her lips over her bright, crimson lipstick. Anna was supposed to be here, and they were supposed to go together.

The fake blood looked weird. While Elena could wax romantic and poetic in her journal with ease, she was hardly the visual artist in the family. Maybe Jeremy would be willing to help. She could hear him getting ready in his room, having finally come home for an hour just to put on his costume.

"Wow, Elena! Between the really cheap, fake-looking fangs, the blood on your lips, and the ultra-short skirt, I don't know whether to be offended or attracted," quipped the voice all but guaranteed to set her heart aflutter, suddenly seeming to materialize out of thin air. She gasped, then calmed immediately, rolling her eyes when she realized – not for the first time – that Damon seemed to enjoy giving her these little shocks.

Showoff.

She quickly turned toward her window, delighted to see him there. Her heart percussed in allegro rhythm as she took him in. He was dressed a bit unusually – for him, that is. His hair had been styled elaborately, the use of product almost excessive – a mockery of his brother, if she had to guess.

"I think to make it up to me, you should take off the hurtfully stereotypical vampire face," he told her, oh-so-seriously, with a very marked pout, sauntering closer.

"And replace it with what?" she replied with an amused smile, by now knowing to expect some innuendo.

"Who says you have to replace it with anything?" he said suggestively.

"I think the principal might take issue with my cosplaying a nude beach attendee at the Halloween dance," she argued, correctly intuiting his flirtatious trajectory, with a point of her index finger, blushing as he came even closer and it hit him square in the chest.

"So, let's take the party back here. Party of two."

She narrowed her eyes in contemplation. Damon's always been a flirt, but he'd been turning it on extra hard lately. And then she remembered her costume, and her heart sank – again – right before she growled at herself for getting so carried away. She needed to keep a tighter hold over her heart. "What? Is seeing my face with blood dripping off its fangs hitting you right in the memories?" she teased, trying desperately to sound light an airy, but Damon noticed the slight quiver in her voice and the tightness of her forced grin.

He frowned, unsure how to get her to shake this notion. "No, Elena. No, I told you – when I look at you, I seeyou."

"How much do I actually look like her, anyway?" she asked evasively, not yet ready to have this conversation in any serious capacity – or even to analyze her own reluctance to believe him.

"I don't have any photos, but Stef does. I saw him drooling over it in his room the other day. Go look at it for yourself," he replied, taking a seat on her bed and placing Gummi on his lap.

It was at that moment that Jeremy saw fit to dramatically barge into the room, looking every bit like Dracula stepped into a Steampunk-verse with his elaborate face paint and oversized goggles. "Elena! When is Anna getting he – ?" he began, promptly cutting himself off as he looked at Damon in suspicion. "Who are you?"

"I'm Damon," the object in question answered, using Gummi's plushie paw to offer a little wave. When it looked like Jeremy was waiting for an explanation, he indulged him. "Elena's fashion consultant – she needs one," Damon elaborated in a stage whisper, then shot an answering smirk to her eye-roll. "There's more to clothing than colorful henleys and Converse – I'm just saying," he said in a mockery of earnestness, his hand clutching his chest. "Also, life coach, witty repartee partner-slash-instructor, and walking artform for aesthetic pleasure."

"He's a friend," Elena said with an affectionately raised eyebrow at her vampiric interlocutor.

"That, too," Damon supplied.

"The giant-sized ego permanently attached to him, hmm, undecided," she teased.

"Right," Jeremy said dubiously, but chose to let it go for the moment, turning to Elena. "When's Anna getting here? You said she's dressing up as a vampire, right?" he asked nervously, adjusting his very ostentatious Dracula-style cloak.

Elena winced. She'd be lying if she didn't notice Jeremy's obvious crush on her bestie before, but she didn't realize it had gone quite so far. "Anna's out of town, Jer, visiting an aunt. We both agreed to wear our vampire costumes to celebrate together in spirit, but she won't be coming tonight. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, Little Gilbert – sorry your attempt to surprise-couple-costume didn't work out. I'd recommend changing, though, since matching with your sister might be a bit too, uh,Targaryen, even for Mystic Falls," Damon quipped.

Jeremy rolled his eyes, enjoying theA Song of Ice and Firereference despite the obnoxiousness, a smirk placing itself on his face, as well. "And you are you supposed to be, Damon? John Travolta after he fell into a vat of hair gel, altered his DNA, and became Super Grease-Man?"

"—Captain Even Greasier –?" Elena suggested.

"You like my Hero Hair? I used an entire bottle of Stef's favorite emergency gel. I was almost disgusted, but art is suffering," Damon sighed dramatically.

"So, you went out of your way – you spentactualtime and money to buy clothing that closely resembles Stefan's just to get a rise out of him?" Elena clarified, trying and failing to sound even the slightest bit admonishing.

Jeremy guffawed. "The new guy on the football team? The one with the perma-scowl?"

"Correction. TheseareStef's," Damon explained, scandalized, though nodding in approval to Jeremy's description of Stefan. "I borrowed these when you and that menace committed a crime against humanity and replaced my attire with Walmart's Fall nineteen ninety-seven collection. Adonis doesn't dress like he just fell out of a Nirvana groupie's basem*nt, Elena."

"Yeah, I'm going to go and leave you to your 'very Platonic evening.' See you later, 'just friends," Jeremy said with very heavy sarcasm along with a liberal use of air quotes and made to leave.

"Wait! Jer, can you help me with the blood make-up?" Elena stopped him at least partly so distract Damon from her reaction to Jeremy's claim, and her brother reluctantly returned, face paint supplies in hand.

Anna eyed the cheap, plastic faux fangs in her hand dubiously, then promptly threw them away before vamping out in front of the mirror. Theone timea year she could unleash the monster within to resounding applause, and she had to miss it. No one here seemed to be responding appropriately. Judging by the gross wolf-whistle from Fredrick, the withering glare from Bethann, and Harper shyly averting his eyes, her costume was less than a hit at the Center of Serendipity.

She looked hot, though, she grinned – striking a sultry pose before the full-length mirror in her room.

"Annabelle!" Pearl yelled as she bombarded into the quarters, scandalized. "What are you wearing!?"

"It's called a Halloween costume, Mama," Anna replied, having been brought to the brink of emotional exhaustion in this allegedly serene and relaxing place.

"And is it absolutely necessary to choose the masque of a strumpet as your attire of choice?" Pearl hissed. "I can understand the comfort of wearing trousers, but the amount of skin exposed –."

"It's called a mini-skirt, Mama, and I assure you, they're quite the norm in this modern world," Anna shot back. "In fact, your corsets and pantaloons are a lot more out of place – if you went out dressed like that, you'd look like an extra at the Ren Faire."

"Thewhat?"

"It's a medieval festiva – nevermind. The world is different now. Women show a lot more skin. If you think this is bad, you should see my bikini. It's swimwear," she elaborated at Pearl's confused look.

Pearl sighed, feeling the swell of anxiety again. She'd always been a strong, innovative, progressive woman in her day. But now she felt ancient and outdated. How could she not? Nearly 150 years were stolen from her. This world – this entirely new world – was confusing and terrifying, and the thought of her darling daughter being left to its mercies filled her with horror.

Annabelle had always been a sweet, gentle girl, and Pearl often worried about her. Now it seemed that the roles were reversed.

"Fredrick has been telling what I can only imagine are tall tales of your promiscuity, darling," Pearl expressed tenderly.

"If only," Anna scoffed under her breath, having not an ounce of relief to her frustration about the fact that she hadn't gotten laid in ages growing by the day.

"What was that?" Pearl asked with a raise of her eyebrow.

"Fredrick is an idiot and a loudmouth," Anna retorted.

"I know, my sweet girl – but your reputation," Pearl entreated.

"None of those things matter anymore," Anna interrupted. "Women are sexually liberated now. We can sleep with whomever we want and whenever we want. Yes, some people will judge us, but they're not the kinds of people we would want to surround us, anyway," she explained, her voice edging with passion.

Pearl smiled, a swell of tears forming in her dark eyes as she gently cupped her daughter's face. "My beautiful, smart, sweet Annabelle. You've grown so much. You've become so strong and so wise. I know it must have been hard for you, but I'm so proud of who you've become."

"Thank you, Mama," Anna said, taken aback. These were the last words she'd expected, given the near-endless barrage of criticism she'd faced from her mother ever since she rescued her from the tomb.

"I'm sorry if I made it seem otherwise," Pearl said contritely. "I've been locked in that place for so long, and my biggest nightmare is something befalling you – my sweet Annabelle," she soothed, stroking her child's hair. "That I forget in those moments that you survived all these years – thrived. Were wise enough to put together this gallant rescue effort. I know I'm projecting my own inadequacies onto you –"

"Mama, no. You couldn't have known that Johnathan Gilbert would turn against you," Anna argued. "You're still the wisest person I've ever known."

"And yet …" Pearl trailed off.

"No one is infallible," Anna supplied softly. "But you can trust my judgment – please."

"I know I can, darling," Pearl concurred. "So, trust mine when I say that you need to go back home. I can see how unhappy this place is making you."

"But, Mama –"

"I'll join you soon. I just need to be here a little longer, all right?" Pearl asked, kissing her daughter's cheek.

"I understand," Anna said.

"Good," her mother replied, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Now, if you're headed back into Mystic Falls, there's a certain device I'd like to give you, to aid in negotiation."

By the time Damon and Elena made it to the Halloween party, it was in full swing. The Haunted House was gorgeously decorated with glow-in-the-dark spiderwebs, skeletons, and all manner of season-specific, ghoulish design.

"You remember the plan, right?" Damon urged, suddenly serious. "You occasionally wander away, but still within mine or Stefan's or," he dropped his voice with an ostentatious eye-roll, "Lexi's line of sight, until Noah makes his play, and then we'll get him."

"What does that mean? Get him?" Elena pushed, vividly recalling the conversation she had with Damon when she visited him at the Boarding House during her and Anna's failed prank.

"What do you think?"

"Damon, you can't just kill him!" Elena shot back, horrified.

"He's been invited in. What's to stop him from coming back at any time to finish you off? Or Jeremy? Or Jenna?" he argued pragmatically.

"Can't we just – I don't know – uninvite him?" she asked desperately.

"I've never heard of that being possible. We could sign the house over to someone else, but what's to stop him from posing as another delivery guy, and scoring yet another invite from yourveryuninformed family members?" he asked hypothetically. "Unless you want to tell them about the supernatural."

"Should we?" she asked seriously.

"Can you promise they won't blab to anyone and put us all in danger? Can you be sure of that?" he asked dubiously.

"I'llmakesure of it," she said confidently.

"Elena, if the Council has even the slightest suspicion that day-walkers exist – and who we are – we're all dead. Me, Stef – Anna," he pressed. "You'd better be sure."

"Could you just – I don't know – use your pupil-dance-hypnosis to make sure that they don't tell anyone?" she queried cheekily, recalling that he seemed to enjoy that description of compulsion.

Damon grinned, enjoying this surprising turn of conversation. "Look who's dipping her toes into unconventional morality," he purred. "Got my Hero Hair all tingly and bothered."

"I think that's the ozone layer weeping from all the chlorofluorocarbons from the living carbon emission that is your hair tonight," she sassed.

"Ooh, good one. Let's go and tell Steffie how much his 'do damages the environment, and tell him to watch out for Captain Planet," he quipped, offering his arm to Elena, before they walked over to the scowling object in question, whose frown became impossibly deeper when he noticed his brother's apparent choice of costume. The woman next to him studied Elena with open curiosity.

"Scowly," Damon greeted, facing his brother, before he turned to Lexi. "Judgy."

"Hi, Elena," Stefan said with over-the-top politeness, pointedly ignoring his brother and his obvious attempts to get under his skin. "This is my best friend, Lexi."

"I see you're predictable as ever, Damon," Lexi shot back with a tight smile that was closer to a sneer, ignoring Stefan's attempts at diplomacy completely "Obnoxious, unpleasant – and oh look," she allowed a sarcastic glance at Elena. "Still obsessed with Katherine Pierce."

Elena reeled back, retracting her hand like it had been burned, and took a step away from Damon. She knew it wasn't just in her head – sheknewit. She took measured breaths to calm herself, fighting the rise of tears in her eyes, desperately schooling a neutral expression. She had to get out of there.

"Elena…" Damon reached out for her, pained when she pulled away even more, unable to meet his eyes.

"I should go," Elena said with false, very forced cheer, looking over his shoulder, around the party – anywhere but at him – yearning to hide just how much the comparison to Katherine agonized her. "The plan was for me to stay away but within your line of sight, right?" she chirped, and quickly beelined away from the group.

"What the f*ck is your problem?" Damon growled, rounding on Lexi. "Starting sh*t with me, I understand, but is your self-righteous head so far up your own ass that you need to reign morally superior above her, too?"

Lexi groaned, internally scolding herself for her momentary loss of control, fully aware that she was in the wrong in this situation. " I – I'm sorry," she said contritely.

"I have no use for your apologies. Fix it," Damon snarled and walked away.

Sometime within the next few hours, the fake blood on Elena's lips had been entirely washed away by the incoming red solo cups featuring libation after libation, and she found herself wearing Caroline's pointy witch hat as Damon pulled her giddy form into a dance, her earlier desolation forgotten with the magic of tipsiness.

At this point, the Halloween celebration at the school had been long since over, and the after-party moved to the woods belonging to the Lockwood Estate.

"Trading species?" Damon asked, gesturing to the hat with his raised eyebrows as he spun a giggling Elena.

"Nope! Combining the best of both worlds. I'm a witch-pire now!" she grinned, finding her balance despite the veritable co*cktail of nonuniformly potent liquids inside her. She then leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. "I stole it from Caroline when she went to make out with Matt. I think she's trying to make Stefan jealous."

Damon just rolled his eyes, not at all in the mood to discuss his mopey brother while dancing with his favorite girl. Normally, he would have made a suggestive comment about them showing Squeaky-Voiced Blondie and Captain Flannel up in the sexy department but decided against it in light of Lexi's comment.

"Witch-pires don't exist,E-le-na," he tutted playfully, pulling her closer, his mood immediately elevated by the sharp relief he felt at her no longer so agonized by Lexi's piercing barb.

"How do you know? You've met every species in existence?"

"Because I know."

"Because you've, what? Been 'around for a while,' she mocked his phrase playfully, affecting jazz hands as her grin grew impossibly wide. "Maybe I'm the first!"

Elena took a seat on a log-shaped bench by the bonfire, nursing a bottle of Corona and lime while she tried to catch her breath after so many consecutive dances with Damon, who didn't appear winded in the slightest, and now seemed hellbent on tormenting his brother for his own entertainment.

She smiled unwittingly at the exaggerated frown on his face, his dogged gait, the extra-dramatic sighs he'd occasionally produce like every tiny movement weighed heavily on his soul.

"It's so hard!" Damon whined theatrically. "It's so hard to be sad all the time, and the weight of such moral perfection is crushing my super-saintly soul!"

Stefan rolled his eyes, immediately turning to face his brother. "It's so much easier to just not care about anyone or anything, except for when it personally benefits me to – especially when enacting my evil and diabolical plans."

"No, shut up, Damon!" Damon cried dully. "You kill everybody, and you're so mean – you're so mean! You've been spreading vicious lies about me to all the forest animals, and now they won't even stop within a fifty-foot radius of the house because you told them I've only self-flagellated twice this month! You didn't tell them the whole context – I was sore from all my pearl-clutching and forehead brooding!"

The now considerably more sober Elena half-stifled a laugh as she played with the beer bottle in her hands, so lost in her own haze of emotion that she hadn't noticed the vampire sidling next to her.

"I thought we could start over. I'm Lexi," her interlocutor greeted, her demeanor at once contrite and friendly.

"Elena," she greeted coolly.

"So, you and Damon, huh?" Lexi asked knowingly.

"What!?" Elena balked, panicking, the contents of the beer bottle nearly spilling as she sharply turned to the other woman, desperate to dissuade the notion. She may be constantly bombarded with the reality of her feelings, but that didn't mean that he should be saddled with that consequence. He was already dealing with a broken heart, from a woman who looked exactly like her. No, she wouldn't do that to him. Even she had to admit, however, that the excuse was beginning to sound increasingly hollow with each time she made it. "No no, nonono, we're just friends."

Supernatural hearing afforded Damon with a front-row seat to Elena and Lexi's entire conversation, but at that moment, he wished it hadn't. His heart sank with how vehemently she refuted any claim that their relationship could be more than friendly. A slight clench to his jaw for a fraction of a second was the only physical manifestation of his disappointment, however, as he carried right on loudly antagonizing Stefan.

"I think I might need you to say 'no' a few more times to convince me," Lexi teased.

"Look, it doesn't matter," Elena sighed, tearing the label off the bottle to settle her discomfort, as she looked away again. "Because you were right – he's in love with Katherine, and I look exactly like her. Supposedly."

"No, look, I'm sorry," Lexi groaned, turning Elena to face her. "I was just being a bitch. Old habits die hard, and Damon and I have a lot of history. We bring out the worst in each other – we always have."

Elena didn't reply, and continued to play with the beer bottle, tearing away what tiny remnants of the wrapper saw fit to adhere to its glassy surface. She wasn't entirely sober yet, for one – and for another, this woman clearly meant to hurt Damon. Something within her rebelled at showing her friendly courtesy. Maybe at a different time she would have told her off for being such a bitch, but at the moment, her mind was spinning with too many variables – feelings she couldn't quite process, couldn't embrace – desperately and futilely tried to ignore.

"But he's different with you," Lexi admitted, perhaps reluctantly, but her tone wasn't unkind.

"Like with Katherine?" Elena scoffed.

"I honestly have no idea," Lexi shrugged. "I've never seen them together." She frowned, realizing that perhaps she wouldn't get anywhere tonight in terms of mending her earlier gaffe. The seemingly jubilant Elena from only a few minutes ago was gone and closed off. Placing a hand on the woman's shoulder, she moved to leave, before suddenly turning back. "Just a small piece of advice: when it's real, you can't walk away." With that, Lexi left Elena to her thoughts.

That's what she had to do, Elena surmised. She'd walk away. She could do this. After everything she went through in the last few months, giving Damon that kind of power over her heart would utterly destroy her.

Because he was clearly reckless. And impulsive. He was passion, and adventure – and loving him was practically an exercise in danger.

And if she let herself get consumed, and ever lost him - the way he threw himself at the threshold of her doorway, heedless of his own safety…

No. She'd walk away from this. She had to.

Elena ended up getting a ride with Bonnie after giving everyone a quick goodbye. Her conversation with Lexi steeled her resolve. Yes, she and Damon had become friends – good friends – but that's all he'd ever be. Besides, it's not like he had any interest inher, anyway.

Good. Perfect. She'd fight those feelings down, she'd win, and all would be smooth and good. Yeah.

She walked out of her bathroom, prepared for bed, when she heard his voice coming from the windowsill – her heart immediately a flutter when she met his eyes.

"Those might be my favorite PJs so far," he revealed with a flirtatious smirk.

"I see you finally got that ecological disaster out of your hair," Elena quipped, noting that Damon's look thankfully returned to normal - once again dressed in his own clothing, with hair that no longer appeared to be hard as a rock.

"The forest animals all joined in to help while singing an obnoxiously cheerful tune. At first, I thought that someone slipped LSD into my blood, but then I realized that they probably thought I was here to save them from Steffie. Gullible idiots," he snarked.

Elena smiled. "Maybe you should involve them in your so-called diabolical plan," she suggested.

"Turning Stef's food source against him might be a viable use of my time," he playfully considered.

"Noah didn't show up tonight," she said, taking a step closer. She should have anticipated that Damon would come. Why did it always surprise her - that he cared?

"Nope."

"Do you think he's gone?"

"No way of knowing. He could be biding his time; getting us to lower our guards," he replied pragmatically.

"So, you're here to do your duty as the town's resident 'dashing rogue,' and protect the local defenseless humans," she teased, remembering how affronted he was at being compared to a knight.

"It's an arduous task," he signed dramatically, then affected a sultry expression. "But the gig certainly has its benefits."

She laughed, blushing. "Well, you're off the hook tonight. Jenna's still at Duke and Jeremy's spending the night at the Lockwoods'."

"Oh, just you then? Totally not worth my time," he deadpanned. "Careful, Elena," he chided with a wag of his finger. "Your death-wish is showing."

"I don't have a death-wish! I just –" she reflexively scoffed.

Not wanting to entertain that obvious lie tonight, he instead pivoted. "What makes you think that I'm not protecting you for completely selfish reasons?"

"Like what?"

"I don't want to lose you," he said simply, sincerely.

Elena's breath hitched. How was she supposed to keep her feelings from flying wildly out of control when he said things like this? When he looked at her so earnestly? When he would come over each night to quell her nightmares from Noah, and from the accident, and give her the sweetest dreams?

How on Earth could she possibly resist falling in love even more?

"Look, Damon," she offered, wringing her hands to quell her anxiety. "You don't have to keep coming here – you can send Stefan in your place."

His jaw clenched. "If that's what you want," he ground out.

She studied him curiously for a few moments. It was the second – no, third – time she'd seen him react this way to her seemingly prioritizing Stefan, even though each time he had the wrong idea. "Why does that bother you so much?" she asked curiously, tilting her head this way and that as she worked out the puzzle in her head. "Romantic rival of a past love?" she asked, then her eyes widened in epiphany. "Katherine!"

"Nicely deduced," he smirked, though it didn't reach his eyes.

She sighed, wondering how she'd navigate this particular minefield within a spiderweb. "I'm not interested in Stefan, Damon," she said earnestly, then remembered why it mattered in the first place. "And I'm not Ka –"

"Stop!" he interrupted her, lifting his hand to symbolically stop her. Pushing himself off the windowsill, he took deliberate steps toward her. "We're having this out tonight, for better or worse," he insisted, taking her hands in his. "First things first, ignore Lexi. She's a bitch, and she said that to get under my skin. It didn't work," he quickly clarified. "Not like she intended. What actually got to me was seeing you hurt."

"She apologized to me later," Elena revealed, to Damon's approving nod. "And said that you bring out the worst in each other."

"That much isverytrue."

"What happened between you two?"

"That is a very long, agonizing, and complicated story that I'll happily reveal to you on some other night. We've got more important things to talk about now," he said, squeezing her hands. Outwardly, he appeared calm and reassuring, but inside, he was a ball of nerves. Elena furrowed her brows in confusion, so he elaborated. "What can I do, Elena? Tell me – please – what to do to convince you that I see you and Katherine as two completely separate people."

"Damon," Elena groaned. "I'm not mad at you – I get that this is a really weird situation."

"No," he said firmly. "You really don't – and I can't really say I blame you. You've had your resemblance to her thrown in your face enough." He was quiet for a few moments, trying to make a decision, then finally released a breath when he apparently made one that hadn't made him entirely comfortable.

He knew he was taking a chance – and it had been so very long since he'd willingly allowed himself to show any vulnerability. Sure, Elena managed to somehow pull these moments from him unwittingly, but now he was making a conscious choice. He just hoped he would succeed in his endeavor – disabusing her of this notion was more than worth it. He took a seat on her bed, pulling her to sit next to him.

"I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me," he finally said.

"That might take an entire team of psychiatric analysts, each with an extended lifespan," she sassed with the beginnings of a cheeky grin.

He smiled at her adorningly for a moment, before pressing on. This was too important. "In the days nearing the tomb opening, I found myself getting sadder and sadder, and I couldn't figure out why. On that day – just minutes before you showed up, I should have been ecstatic. I would finally be reunited with Katherine. But nope! I felt completely hollowed out. I didn't fully put it together until you came and said goodbye to me," he murmured, his gaze lingering on the hand he stroked with his thumb. Baring his soul for the first time in decades was one thing, but meeting her gaze while doing so – he wasn't ready for that yet. "The thought of never seeing you again hurt too much," he said, finally chancing to look into her eyes, which he found were lined with a thin film of moisture, making them sparkle in the fluorescent light of her bedroom. "It hurt more than the thought of seeing Katherine again excited me."

"The thought of never seeing you again hurt me, too," she breathed, her hands springing to grab his of their own accord. "You've become so important to me, so fast – scary fast. I remember being so distraught, torn apart – because I really wanted Anna to get her mom back, but the thought of you leaving, of losing you, was agonizing. You made me feel so valued, so seen," she pressed emphatically as she searched his eyes, delighted to see joy visibly reflected in the almond-shaped expanses of cerulean that had become her favorite in all the cosmos. Unable to resist, she threw her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. "You've become one of my best friends."

"Yeah. Friends," he repeated dully, only barely managing to fill his voice with sincerity, as he returned her embrace. "Where do you want to go for your dream tonight?" he asked, pulling back.

"Anywhere that you do," she replied, completely trusting.

"You sure you want to phrase it that way with me?" he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Uh-huh," she breathed, with absolutely no change in her tone.

As Elena woke up in the middle of the night, once again wrapped in Damon's arms, since their bodies seemed to consistently find these positions after they fell asleep, Lexi's words kept reverberating in her head. When a sleeping Damon dropped a kiss onto the crown of her head, any illusion of being able to ever walk away from him was immediately dispelled.

She was a fool to think she'd ever be able to shake him, to walk away. She knew she loved him – she felt it before, but with each day this love was increasingly threatening to consume her whole.

It was the most real thing she'd ever felt in her entire life.

Chapter 20: You Can Go Home Again!

Chapter Text

Early November 2009

The days following Stefan's birthday party, during which Caroline finally managed to cajole a smooch from the birthday boy himself, had been relatively quiet. Granted, that smooch was largely engineered by Lexi during a game ofTruth or Darethat he was very reluctantly coerced to play, but the details didn't matter so much now that nigh-maniacal determination to bring about kiss number two was in play. Matt was promptly given his post-hook-up walking papers, and the two blonde women were seen whispering to each other, heads bowed in conspiratorial huddles, for many days since.

Lexi evidently approved of Caroline's borderline ruthless pursuit of her best friend, and Caroline just enjoyed having her determination be appreciated.

Damon mostly filled the days with being a nuisance to his brother and whom he dubbed 'Mystic Falls' Most Annoying Houseguest' for his own entertainment, in between Council sessions which were only not mind-numbingly boring because he was tickled by what a trustworthy model human citizen they all thought he was. He even got them to grudgingly stop panicking about the missing vampire compass because there hadn't been anything resembling an 'animal attack' in months. 'Vampires are a beastly species,' he would argue, 'with non-existent self-control. If any happened to have been around, they surely would have made themselves known by now.'

And the idiots ate it up completely. Humans could be so gullible.

It was with this very forced joviality that he arrived only fashionably late for the first meeting of the month, trying desperately to sort through ways that prevented him from sinking into mind-numbing boredom, when his phone rang. His mood immediately brightened when he saw who it was.

"Fearsome and Facetious Fangs Festivities! We keep your fantasies fed with fables!" he answered cheerfully.

"Ooh, gosh!"responded Elena in a theatrically concerned tone. "I'm afraid that I'm running quite low on my fang fantasy stock, and you're my last hope! Biters' Bounty gave me the boot,"she pouted.

"That's because you were looking in all the wrong places for quality fang fantasies," he purred. "What'll it be, Miss? We've got a classic feed package, served up by a local dashing rogue – or, if you're feeling especially fancy, we've got the gold deluxe that comes with a dream and a whole night of sexy entertainment."

The last few days have been utterly fantastic, Lexi's annoying presence aside. He'd thus far been able to fight off any unwelcome side-effects of his returning humanity – mostly by avoiding Lexi and thus a lot of his guilt regarding her, and he'd been a downright ace at distracting himself whenever the crimes of his past, like the Boarding House slaughter, New York, or Enzo popped into his head, so, all in all, a win. He knew that he couldn't outrun facing the emotional consequences forever, but he was sure going to try.

Ever since he and Elena had a conversation about her resemblance to Katherine and he bit the proverbial bullet, laying the cards holding his feelings flat on the table, and other cliché phrases that Steffie probably delighted in using, she'd been a lot more visibly at ease – although she'd developed a rather strong fixation on actually seeing the resemblance for herself. Except she didn't want to actually admit to said obsession, so every time Damon called her out on it, she'd change the subject or deny it outright.

Apparently, today was different, because Elena was finally able to admit her thinly-veiled motives."I'm actually calling about something else. I came by – and the door was unlocked –"

"So, you broke in? Naughty. Hot."

She laughed into the phone. "Yeah, there's a certain 'dashing rogue' who happens to be a very bad influence on me."

"I can be a bad influence in other ways, too, E-le-na," he intoned sultrily.

"Like helping me finally get a look at Katherine's picture?"she chirped with exaggerated innocence, pointedly ignoring his innuendo with a rising grin.

"Fine," Damon sighed. "If you're only interested in evil doppelgangers, you'll find what you're seeking in the room of our sexiest rep's annoying little brother."

"Is he home?"Elena whispered instinctively, even though she was aware that even Stefan's malnourished vampiric ears would pick up on the sound.

"Nope. Just saw Steffie give Bugs the Elmer treatment on my way here. I think you're good. Just go up and have a peek. Last I checked, it was on his desk," Damon said, taking a look into Richard Lockwood's office, to see everyone assembled. Looks like he'd have to cut this short and get on with the annoying task of keeping the Council off their collective, undead backs, while they peppered him with an onslaught of praise.

Charming those naïve fools was an arduous task, he sighed with exaggerated drama, but someone had to do it.

"Okay,"Elena said, grinning impishly, and snuck upstairs. By now, trying to at least attempt to move stealthily about in a home normally filled with supernatural ears had become second nature, even if the proprietors of said ears weren't home.

"I have to run for a bit," he pouted, noting the various annoyed glances being sent his way.

He heard a few seconds of silence before Elena finally spoke – there was a nervous tension in her voice. "Will you be home soon?"

"Yeah, I'll come right back after the meeting. Wait for me. I'll cook you dinner, and we can talk about our annoying days," he smirked.

"What makes you think my day was annoying?"she laughed. He could hear her smile through her voice, and something in his chest immediately felt lighter.

"Lexi's still in town, isn't she?" he groaned, asking rhetorically, before making eye contact with an increasingly irritated Peggy Fell. "Got to run. See you soon."

Elena hung up the phone with her heart thundering in her chest. Ever since she accepted her feelings for Damon, she'd been determined to tell him – to see if there was even a chance that he felt the same way. She told herself that it was because, this way, if he didn't return her affections, she'd be able to reverse course and stop loving him.

Before it was too late.

Except it already was too late, she thought glumly. It was entirely too late. She found the love that consumed her.

Of course, telling herself that she had to confess her love and actually doing it were two entirely different matters. Every time she came close, she completely chickened out.

She shook herself from the thought – time to focus on the task at hand before Stefan came back.

Elena snuck up the stairs, gingerly opening the door to Stefan's room. As she walked inside, she heard the unmistakable sounds of heavy breathing, moans, pleasured sighs – kissing? Oh no – did she just walk in on…?

She was glued to the spot. All she could see was the back of a blonde head with a distinctly Lexi-style haircut promptly stop her gyrating to turn around, looking somehow both flushed and amused. "Didn't anyone ever teach you to knock?" she asked.

Elena opened her mouth and closed it a few times, in utter shock. "I came – I came –"

"Me, too," Lexi grinned, unable to resist embarrassing her further. Elena heard a familiar-sounding giggle from who she could only assume was her partner underneath the sheet. It certainly didn't sound like Stefan.

Elena blushed furiously. "I came to look for Katherine's picture," she finally forced herself to say, then tilted her head to the side, impulsively blurting, "I thought you two were just friends?"

"We are," the familiar voice of Anna said, finally poking out from under the covers, wearing nothing but a co*cky grin, then leered at her bedmate. "Special friends."

Elena sat in the parlor; Katherine's picture forgotten as she watched the flames. Damon did this all the time, and it certainly seemed to soothe him. This wasn't working. Was Anna in love with Lexi?

But Lexi's with Lee – she vividly recalled the vampire telling her about her human boyfriend, in yet another effort to bond with her after their initial, very terse interaction. In the end, Elena caved, finger-waggingly telling her that she'd better start being nicer to Damon, which Lexi immediately brushed away, and instead grilled her on everything Caroline-related. It seemed that she was on her own reconnaissance mission.

Regardless of what she thought of Lexi, however – Anna was her best friend, and Elena wanted her to be happy. Feeling alight with her own heart undeniably in love, Elena couldn't think of a better way to share her – hopeful – bliss and sought to recruit the aid of her friends.

She shot Bonnie and Caroline a quick text to meet her later that evening. They'd find a way to get Lexi to see just how wonderful Anna was!

The thought was interrupted, however, when the very object of Elena's thoughts bounded down the stairs, looking satisfied as ever.

"You could have at least told me you were back in town!" Elena exclaimed, shooting up to cross her arms over her chest and trying very hard to look angry despite her obvious glee at having her best friend return.

"It was late, and I didn't want to wake you," Anna replied breezily, pulling her into a hug and giving her hair a quick ruffle. "So, I took a quick trip to a bar outside of town, since every establishment here seems to have a child's curfew – when lo and behold – I run into a certain blonde bombshell looking for a midnight snack!"

"You only met for the first time last night?" Elena asked, surprised that everything seemed to escalate so quickly.

"Nah, Lexi and I have known each other for a while. She'd been permanently glued to Stefan's side since eighteen sixty-four, with only the smallest intervals of independence since," Anna explained drolly.

"Where is she?" Elena asked. "Did you wear her out?" she teased, doing her very best to affect Damon's eyebrow wiggle, and succeeding only a little, prompting a laugh from Anna at the less-than-smooth display.

"She left – jumped out the window – didn't want to stay here for the awkward convo," Anna explained. "But, before we talk about all the fascinating ins and outs of my supernatural acrobatics with Lexi, I have something here that you might be a lot more interested in," she grinned, pulling out Katherine's picture and handing it to Elena.

Elena studied the object in transfixed fascination, immediately forgetting about Anna, Lexi, their tryst – practically everything else zooming to the background in the wake of this astonishing discovery. The very inanimate, two-dimensional woman who stared back at her looked exactly like her – a perfect replica.

Everything looked the same, except for the expression that she wore. The face that stared back at her from the antique tintype was markedly haughty – laced with an innate cruelty, a malice that seemed deeply embedded within her. The smile was insincere – unkind and almost pained. Other than that, the confidence from within her simply oozed. This was a woman who knew herself, what she wanted, and exactly how to get it – regardless of who would get hurt along the way.

It felt like it took her ages to finally found the words to properly articulate the utter shock that she felt. "She looks exactly like me," she said, stating the obvious, in abject bewilderment.

"Yep," Anna deadpanned. "Freaky, isn't it?

"Very," Elena breathed. "I mean – this isn't what I imagined. I think I was able to theoretically conceive of an identical twin – but I just assumed we lookedreallysimilar. But not exactly the same! She could be my doppelganger."

Anna frowned. "Aurelia used that exact term."

"Sounds better than 'evil twin,'" Elena shrugged. "Though I guess which one of us is 'evil' is relative and depends on your perspective."

"Nope, trust me: Katherine is definitely the evil one. Ask Damon and Stefan. Three out of three friends agree!" Anna chirped with faux enthusiasm.

Elena laughed, then sobered. "One of them was in love with her for nearly a century and a half, so there must be something redeeming about her."

"Yeah, her ability to manipulate people to get what she wants by having zero scruples," Anna shot back with an annoyed roll of her eyes. "But I don't think Aurelia used that term coincidentally. She's a former witch – a former Bennett witch – and that place is justcrawlingwith magic. There's something magical that connects you two, but she was very tight-lipped on the details."

"Why?" Elena asked in concern, then brightened. "What was it like? This Center of Serendipity? A cloaked magical retreat in the Himalayas sounds amazing!"

Anna groaned. "Trust me, it's not. No electricity – no WiFi," she elaborated pointedly, then squeezed her phone to her chest and gave it a theatrical little kiss. "It was boring, E. I'm glad to be home. Mama will come along, eventually, but she actually likes that sort of thing. Meditation, deep self-reflection, silent afternoons of reflection – God…"

"Sounds peaceful," Elena suggested diplomatically.

"In a mind-numbing, wanting to carve out your own brain way, sure," Anna shrugged a bit petulantly. "Definitely not for me – not at this point in my life, anyway."

"Well, regardless, I'm so glad you're back!" Elena chirped, squeezing her arms around Anna in a tight vice.

"Me, too," Anna replied in a voice strained with emotion, still marveling at the sharp turnaround her life had taken in the last few months. She went from being abjectly lonely, to having real friends – having her mother back. She wanted so badly to hold on to it. "Which reminds me," she pulled back with a wicked grin. "Did you get what I asked for?"

Elena's impression suddenly matched her own as she pulled out her phone to show her some photos. "That and more! Here's a video of a very drunk Tyler horriblyreciting a sonnet. This one might count as embarrassing for him and psychological torture for just about anyone else," she added after some thought.

Anna pulled a face, concurring wholeheartedly. Tyler was not a good actor in the slightest.

Elena continued to rummage through her camera roll. "Ah, this is a good one! Amber Bradlee –"

"Wait, wait, what were those photos you skipped through a little too quickly? Just what are you trying to hide, Miss Elena Gilbert?" Anna inquired with her hands on her hips.

Elena blushed, then scrolled back a few. "Damon dressed up like Stefan and put on a whole act, mimicking him. It was kind of a hit!" she beamed with a little too much pride, Anna thought. Such curious developments while she was away.

"Wow, his hair looks hard enough to be used as a weapon. That's some serious commitment," Anna quipped.

Elena giggled, trying to stifle her blush with her hands on her cheeks, her fingers splayed over her eyes. "Yeah, we came to the conclusion that Captain Planet's Stefan's natural arch-nemesis."

"How retro," Anna deadpanned through narrowed eyes in contemplation, then shook it off. "All in all, great job! Now show me some pics of you. I bet you looked hot."

Elena bit her lip nervously, then scrolled to display the requested photo, frowning slightly at Anna's shocked reaction. "I look exactly like her here, don't I?"

"A little," Anna admitted reluctantly. "Your expression's not the same, though – and that makes all the difference. And wow! Look at that face make-up with the blood. I know you didn't do that yourself."

"Jer did it! Isn't he talented?"

"Yeah, wow. Kid's got skills, for sure," Anna admitted. "Wait, why is that Damon behind you? You finally invited him in? I have to hear this one – how did he finally manage to weasel his way inside?" Anna grinned, preparing herself for a hilarious story.

Elena's face dropped. She hoped to avoid this revelation, because she had the distinct impression that Anna would blame herself – and as someone entirely too familiar with that feeling, she wanted to spare her best friend that kind of pain. "It's not important. I just felt it was time. We're obviously friends now."

"If it's not important, why the terrified face?" Anna asked shrewdly.

Before Elena could form a proper response, the door shot open, revealing the object in question, holding several grocery bags.

"Hey," Elena greeted with an elevated blush to her cheeks that made Anna raise a very inquisitive eyebrow.

"Hey back," he greeted with the most sincere smile Anna had ever seen on him, before his eyes landed on her. "Oh, you're here again. Good. You can help us catch your psycho roommate before he tries to turn Elena into a snack again and bring her to Katherine 'as tribute.' Turns out your buddy doesn't think Katherine has enough toys and so very thoughtfully decided your bestie would make the best one," he sneered, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"WHAT!?" Anna gaped, horrified. "Noah went after you? I thought he left!"

"Damon!" Elena hissed, nonplussed. "I was trying to ease her into it!"

"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" Anna fretted, panicked, pulling Elena into her arms. Elena nodded frantically, returning the embrace and tracing patterns over Anna's back to soothe her. "Did he hurt you?"

Elena and Damon spoke at the same time in response.

"No –" Elena soothed.

"Yes –" Damon scoffed.

"Thanks for clearing that up for me," Anna replied wryly, pulling away to let her gaze dart between them.

"He's been invited in," Damon explained. "We've been trying to set traps for him, but so far, nothing. Wherever he is, he's laying low."

"Damon's been coming over each night to stay with me," Elena added softly, gazing at him in a lot more than gratitude, Anna noticed. She'd have to ask about this later.

"f*ck," Anna muttered. "Okay, okay," she thought out loud, dragging her hand along her face. "I'm going to try to get a hold of Sheila. Maybe she can do some kind of locator spell. We find him, I'll stake him myself."

"Why is that everyone's immediate thought?" Elena complained, aghast. "Both of you – immediate murder. Why not just send him to that retreat?"

"I don't care who stakes him, as long as he's dead," Damon replied to Anna, deliberately ignoring Elena's outburst.

"Or," Elena insisted again, this time more forcefully. "We can give him the option to get some help! Since there's – I don't know – anentire wellness center dedicated toward rehabilitating troubled vampires!" she sardonically insisted.

"Yeah, so he could escape and try again," Damon scoffed.

"Or get better," Elena stubbornly countered.

"He hurt you," Damon said flatly, as though stating a universal truth. "He doesn't get to live after that."

Anna watched the exchange with growing fascination. As curious as she was just to see what was beginning to transpire here, but this problem needed to be dealt with immediately. She sincerely doubted that Bonnie was already strong enough to track Noah – though Bennett witches consistently proved her wrong about perceived power levels. Sheila was by far the better bet for this, and he wanted to catch her as quickly as possible.

"You staying for dinner?" Damon asked Anna insincerely, taking a leisurely stroll to the counter to divest the grocery bags of their contents. He grinned at Elena's unrestrained delight when he took out several eggplants. "Please say no," he added with a sardonic smirk.

"No," Anna muttered, feeling overwhelmed. "Between Noah, the Gilbert device Mama gave me, some really disturbing doppelgänger info I've learned – we have a lot to talk about, but I have a few things to take care of first."

"Damon's been promising to wow me with his so-called culinary prowess," Elena teased, grinning wickedly. "He had some choice words to say about you, Anna," she smirked in instigation, hoping it gets her best friend to stay.

"Oh really? Widdle baby Salvatore, with his pompous upbringing, actually getting his hands dirty in a kitchen?" Anna scoffed in amusem*nt, taking the bait.

"Don't listen to Anna – she's become senile and delusional in her advanced age," Damon tutted theatrically. "My eggplant parmigiana will make her sad little rollatini taste like bath water."

"On second thought, text me when the food's ready. I'm coming back to openly judge you," Anna smirked, and blurred out of sight before anyone could reply.

Chapter 21: The Value of Good Communication

Chapter Text

Early November 2009

After a surprisingly fun and playful dinner, during which Anna and Damon somehow fell into a semi-aggressive rabbit hole, debating wine pairings, Elena had astronomical hopes that this dynamic would bloom into something more permanent – more time merrily spent with two of the people she loved most in the world.

They went so far as to grab two bottles from the Salvatore cellar for a side-by-side taste test, at which point, Stefan came home from his hunt, and joined them, and it really felt like they were becoming a family. Damon spent most of the dinner teasing Stefan, Elena half-heartedly pretended to admonish him while hiding a smile that didn't fool him in the slightest, and Anna regaled her with embarrassing stories of the Salvatores from 1864 that made them both groan.

It was perfect.

She hadn't felt this level of togetherness since her parents were alive, and it was a feeling Elena desperately hoped would extend and grow and blossom in perpetuity.

And it was in the spirit of developing this delightful dynamic that she sought out Bonnie and Caroline to help her with her endeavor – win Lexi's heart away from Lee for Anna. Caroline just shot them a disbelieving look and announced that she had to prepare their new routine for their next cheerleading competition, which both girls found quite odd, since she usually loved playing matchmaker.

It was with what both Elena and Bonnie believed to be their super-clever and diabolical scheme that they cornered Anna a few days later, ready to regale her with their romantic plot.

"Wait wait wait! You think I have feelings for Lexi!?" Anna cried, stumbling somewhere between shock and uproarious laughter.

"Well, yeah," Elena replied, affronted at Anna's response. "I caught you in bed together – so Bonnie and I devised a plan to help –"

"Help with what?" Anna asked, her amusem*nt not even close to abating, genuinely struggling to breathe.

"Win her from Lee!" Bonnie chirped, eager to assist in the endeavor of helping her friend find true love.

"Lexi told me about her boyfriend," Elena elaborated, ignoring Anna's frankly obnoxious response, and instead choosing to chalk it up to anxiety at having her heart's desire discovered. "But it doesn't matter – because we'll help you show Lexi that you're the one for her, and Lee will be left in the dust, nothing but a memory."

"Lexi loves Lee – don't ask me why," Anna explained with a roll of her eyes. "But they're actually pretty good together."

"Then, why…?" Elena trailed off, confused by Lexi's apparent willingness to act unfaithful toward someone she loves.

"He's a total bro – he thinks it 'doesn't count' if it's 'with a chick,' because 'it's hot,'" Anna detailed with a facetiously lowered voice and liberal use of air quotes.

"So, then…?" Now it was Bonnie's turn to trail off in confusion.

"I just needed to get laid," Anna shrugged, her grin remaining constant. "But it's so adorable that you two thought I needed help findingtwu wuv,"she teased,boopingeach on the nose with its requisite sound effect, much to their growing annoyance. "Not everyone equates sex with love, ladies. You're cuties, really."

"So, you and Lexi – nothing?" Elena asked in disappointment – she thought it would be so cool if Anna finally gave her heart to someone. Although she loved her best friend, Anna could be so standoffish at times. Maybe meeting 'the one' would melt that heart of hers, seemingly caught in perpetual frost made of a sharp fashion sense and sarcasm.

… Like a certain someone, Elena thought morosely – maybe better not to think of him just yet. Anna always seemed to have an uncanny ability to guess when Damon was on her mind, and Elena didn't want to distract from the topic at hand.

"Nope, sorry you two couldn't channel Caroline Forbes and get your gossipy matchmaker on," Anna deadpanned.

"But is there anyone you like? Like –likelike?" Bonnie questioned mischievously.

"Not really," Anna frowned. "There isn't anyone in town that's piquing my romantic interest in the slightest," she reasoned. "A girl does have needs, though," she grinned. "Look, I think what you two were trying to do is sweet, really – but," she struggled to explain for a minute. "Damon, Matt, Caroline, even Stefan to some degree – I – we're not like you two. Sometimes good sex is just good sex – it doesn't have to mean more than that, as long as all parties are on the same page."

"No, we get it, Anna – you're good at compartmentalizing," Elena frowned. "We're not children."

"Aw, my sensitive little baby," Anna teased, pinching Elena's cheek playfully. "You know I didn't mean to talk down to you. I really do think it's sweet, if misguided."

"So, if Lee's such a bro, who thinks it 'doesn't count if it's with a hot chick,' why is Lexi so into him?" Bonnie frowned, sardonic air quotes emphasizing her point.

Anna just shrugged. "Lexi obviously has questionable taste – I mean, just look at her bestie," she snickered. "But far be it from me to question a good lay. That girl's business and so-called 'taste' is entirely her own business."

"How did you get this?" Sheila queried, her brow furrowing in a curious mix of frustration and confusion. She eyed the device sitting on the Boarding House parlor's mantle curiously, the magic emanating from it penetrating her very essence. It was familiar to her – as natural and inherent to her as breathing – she could feel it in her soul. All witches of her line knew it instantly.

Nature.

But this one held a signature that she found especially intriguing. It was created by a Bennett witch – Emily.

"Mama says she stole it from Johnathan Gilbert," Anna supplied, her arms defiantly crossed over her chest. The elder Bennett witch's distaste toward her kind continued to be palpable – years of antagonism couldn't easily be wiped away with one visit from a well-meaning vampiric ancestor – and Anna always felt defensive in her presence as a result. "It's some kind of –"

"Weapon against vampires," Sheila muttered, more to herself than in response to the vampire in question. "There's Bennett magic coursing through this," she said, finally looking up at the other occupants of the room after taking several whole moments to study the object. "I can feel it."

The mix of expressions in the room was varied.

Bonnie appeared excited at the prospect of learning more about her heritage and birthright as a Bennett witch.

Stefan stood away from the main group, eyeing the device cautiously.

Lexi looked mostly bored, shooting the occasional flirty wink in Anna's direction whenever the two made eye contact. She initially entertained the idea of asking Sheila to make her a daylight ring so she could finally stop hiding in the shadows after some five odd centuries, but given the obvious vehemence toward her species, she could already see it was a lost cause. Maybe Bonnie, after she got some practice?

Anna stood front and center next to the object she presented to the group.

Damon watched the display with interest over his occasional sip from his tumbler of bourbon. While he sincerely doubted that Sheila would deactivate the device, her granddaughter was an entirely different matter. Bonnie – to whom magic and vampirism hadn't come with nearly as much trauma as many of her ancestors, at least not yet, showed a zeal that he found could be particularly useful in the future. Right now, it was a wondrous and exciting journey – one that was almost forbidden, as far as her father was concerned, which only increased her appetite for it, indulging her most rebellious instincts – or so she gushed in his presence whenever Elena and Anna seemed to act like the Boarding House had an open-door policy created specifically for them. Bonnie liked magic. Great. At least it spared him the trouble of having to look for a local witch once she leveled up and got out from under Granny Goodness' anti-vamp thumb.

"What does it do?" Elena queried, speaking for the first time since this 'meeting' began. The idea of her ancestors being vampire hunters unsettled her. Were most of the vampires in town then violent like Noah? Or were they more like her friends, and were the townsfolk just bigots? With a pang, she immediately leaned toward the latter, citing that not much had changed. The Founding Femmes still sneered and made a dramatic show out of their pearl-clutching every time an outsider took interest in Mystic Falls real estate, haughtily extolling the virtues of the 'good old days' while visibly looking down on the members of society lower on the socioeconomic scale. If Matt Donovan hadn't been such an asset to the high school football team, Elena was relatively sure that Tyler would have been forbidden from allowing him to set foot in the grand estate. It was almost as through the Founding Families thought that poverty was a contagious disease, and the only prevention was to ostracize those infected. While she was hardly a fan of Vicki Donovan, with her bullying nature and often mean attitude, even she could admit that Mrs. Lockwood's treatment of her was downright abysmal.

Sheila shrugged indifferently in response, though each of the room's vampiric element had trouble believing her sincerity in the matter.

"Is there a way to make it safe for vampires?" Elena asked, approaching the device to get a better look at it. "We can't let a weapon like this fall into the wrong hands – not when it could be used against our friends," she said, gesturing to the three vampires in the room.

"I couldn't even if I wanted to," Sheila replied nonchalantly. "Emily made this, so the secret must be in her grimoire – and it's been lost for generations."

Damon emptied the rest of the tumbler, setting it down with an audibleclinkas he strolled over to join Elena, Anna, and Sheila at the room's center. "Thanks for the 'valiant attempt' at protecting our virtues, Witchy Senior. Looks like I'll have to pay Bree a visit. She seemed to know a surprising amount about Bennett magic. You up for a road trip?" he asked, turning toward Elena with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows, prompting her to duck her head to hide her blush.

"Don't bother," Lexi interrupted with perhaps a bit more bite than strictly necessary, who'd been leaning against the wall since the conversation began. She aggressively pushed herself off to join the group by the device. "I need to be heading back home, anyway. I'll ask Bree what she knows about Emily's grimoire when I get there."

"You know Bree?" Damon asked before he thought better of it, failing to stifle an annoyed groan.

"Yes!" Lexi replied haughtily. "And unfortunately for her, she seems to know you a little too well. Seems you have a pattern of leaving women in compromising situations after you no longer have use for them."

"Look, I know you two have your 'issues' or whatever, but I feel like you're bringing the room's mental maturity down by at least two decades – so either work it out, or we're all making popcorn and roasting you," Anna deadpanned.

"Someone likes being in control of the situation!" Lexi purred, pointedly turning away from Damon with a flirtatious wink toward her erstwhile paramour. "I'll be looking forward to more of that when I return," she grinned as she sauntered over, smacking Anna on the behind before blurring out of the room altogether.

"Is it really that easy to get rid of her?" Damon beamed theatrically. "Do you charge by the word or occasion or –?"

"You owe Lexi an apology and you know it, Damon," Stefan finally spoke, after observing the exchange in silence.

"Yeah, I'll put it in the bottom of my very long 'to consider' list," Damon flippantly replied, then turned to Sheila. "On to more important matters, Wizened Witchy. How's operation Douche Locator going? I whittled a stake the other day and it's really sad, because I haven't been able to deliver on my promise to stick it into that psychotic loser's heart."

"Still in Minnesota," she replied, nonplussed. "And still possibly trying to lure you away from his target. Hang tight. I'll let you know when he's on the move again."

"Do you think Katherine's there, too?" Elena wondered.

"Maybe," Sheila considered, "but locating her is a lot trickier. She's got enchantment upon enchantment on her keeping the exact whereabouts unknown. I'll need time to break them, but I'm working on it."

"So, that's it, then?" Bonnie asked. "Meeting adjourned?"

"Until we hear from Lexi, I think so," Stefan said.

"Anna and I can look into Johnathan Gilbert's journals!" Elena offered. "Maybe we'll find something about Emily's grimoire there."

"Good call, E! Thank you for volunteering me to scour through boring, ancient, self-indulgent texts. You know how much I love that," Anna quipped.

"Weren't you planning on reading them, anyway?" Elena shot back with a grin.

"Yeah, until Salvatore actually made himself useful and told me about the crystal!" Anna whined. "I really thought I was off the hook."

"Not anymore," Elena deadpanned. "There's no way I'm doing this alone. Damon can join us, as punishment for –"

"What did I do!?" Damon scoffed.

"Purposely trying to rile up everyone who's offered to help," Elena countered, counting off her fingers to make her point. "Lexi, Grams –"

Damon wiggled his eyebrows. "Ooh, I see. You don't need to make up excuses to spend extra time with me,E-le-na."

"Gross," Anna groaned. "I think it's just me who's being punished by being forced to witness this."

"And, on that note, meeting adjourned. We'll reconvene when we have some news," Sheila voiced, interrupting the rising chaos in the room.

Anna nodded, electing to speak to Elena about the limited doppelganger information she learned privately, and leave the decision of sharing it up to her. And probably on a different day. One problem at a time, she reasoned.

Everyone slowly began to filter out of the room, but Anna grabbed Elena's hand before she could go, ushering her to an adjoining room so they'd have some semblance of privacy. They entered one of the mansion's many bathrooms, and Anna immediately turned on the forest.

"What's with all the secrecy?" Elena asked with an arched eyebrow. "Is the prank war back on?" she grinned.

"Maybe someday," Anna allowed a hint of a mischievous smirk before forcing herself to affect a serious demeanor. "Mama wanted me to use the device as a negotiation tool in exchange for something."

"In exchange for what?" Elena asked, confusion clearly written on her face.

"Your dad's clinic – she's willing to pay top dollar for it. It used to be her apothecary back in eighteen sixty-four, before the vampires were rounded up, and all their stuff was appropriated," Anna explained. "The Lockwoods clearly got the lion's share. But I'm not going to do that. You can have the device regardless, E. You've done more than enough for me to deserve it."

"My ancestors stole her store?" Elena muttered numbly. "This just gets worse and worse," she sighed, then forced herself to appear resigned – determined. "No," she said firmly. "She can have it back. No need to pay me. It was stolen from her in the first place."

Anna rolled her eyes. "Just take the money, Elena. You need it more than she does," she laughed. "Mama invested in BT back in the eighteen-forties and compelled the bank's employees to put it into a trust that could only be accessed by her descendants in perpetuity," she explained.

"Is that even legal?" Elena queried.

"Does it matter? If anyone gives her a problem, she'll just compel them again. She's loaded. It's fine," Anna assured. "More for us to play with," she grinned wickedly. "We can use it for a big group trip right before we go to college. I think I can pull off undergrad age with the right hair and makeup."

Elena matched her expression. "Okay. But first we need to get the clinic ready. Let's start over the school break."

"You really don't know what the device does, Grams?" Bonnie asked dubiously, as the two witches entered their shared living space. "Even I felt – something. Maybe sonic?"

"Very impressive!" Sheila praised. "That's exactly what it is. It's a sonic attack that's very effective against certain supernatural creatures – especially vampires."

"So why didn't you say anything? Why did you pretend that you didn't know?"

"Because I don't know if I can trust them yet, dear," her grandmother replied pragmatically as she dropped her purse on the couch on her way to the kitchen to start the kettle for some tea. "You have that mopey ripper that gives me the creeps. And then there's that smug asshole who Iknowkilled at least two people on his way in – I need to see if this restraint he's showing now is just an act or not."

"Grams –"

"And the worst one is that girl, Anna! She's wormed her way right to you, hasn't she? Somehow got you to agree to free twenty-seven starving vampires! Convinced you that you two are friends."

"Wearefriends!" Bonnie adamantly insisted.

"Hmph! Time will tell," Sheila reasoned. "In the meantime, let them be the ones running on a wild goose chase to get us Emily's grimoire. It belongs to us, anyway. Like the crystal, that collection of spells is your birthright, Bonnie. And it's been out of our hands for too long."

"You're so diabolical, Grams," Bonnie smirked, joining her grandmother in the kitchen, her eyes alight with joy when she noted that her favorite pastry was being taken out of the refrigerator.

"Damn right, sweetie," Sheila grinned. "Now come help your grandmother get rid of some of this honey cake, before it goes bad," she winked.

Mid-November 2009

Lexi finally –finally– left. Thank every deity, superstition, and ham-fisted cliché, that annoying bitch was finally gone. Every moment she and Damon spent around one another was filled with tension, and though it once – andonlyonce – had a halfway pleasant feeling to it, back when he had his humanity off in the '70s in New York City, and he thought it would be hilarious to seduce her, then leave her to fry in the sunlight on a bar's rooftop, every moment before and since was drenched in almost explosive animosity. And it was mutual. Very mutual.

It was safe to say that Damon Salvatore and Lexi Branson were unlikely to ever get along, and that suited them both just fine.

It seemed to magnify his brother's maudlin attitude at least tenfold, however, urging Damon to try to leave the house considerably earlier than usual. One can only hear Stefan wax dramatic about the perceived virtues of an animal diet for so long and maintain some semblance of functional sanity, if it could even be called that. But Steffie seemed insistent on having a heart-to-heart.

Damon knew that he had to apologize to Lexi eventually, given that his own guilt over his behavior on the rooftop and the events that preceded it still ate at him, when he allowed himself to actually think about them – but so far, he'd done an admirable job of avoiding the less-than-savory aspects of his returned humanity, and he was determined to keep them at bay for as long as possible. He knew that once that door was opened, there would be no closing it again – and he didn't have anywhere the emotional energy to process the trauma that forced him to turn it off in the first place. Not yet.

Instead, he dedicated himself entirely to focusing on the present.

Lexi's inquiry, predictably, turned up nothing.

Johnathan Gilbert's journals, on the other hand, whose self-indulgent ramblings could kindly be called at least mildly insane, revealed that Emily's grimoire was buried with Giuseppe Salvatore. This led to a night-long dig at the cemetery, until said grimoire was finally unveiled and returned to Perma-Witchy-Scowl's hands.

The whole exercise seemed to have a profoundly emotional effect on Stefan, however, only exacerbated by Lexi's absence and failure, who finally took it upon himself to apologize, right before Damon was able to sneak away. After nearly a century and a half, Stefan said that he was sorry for forcing Damon to turn – which left him reeling.

It was a confession he quite honestly never expected to hear – especially given baby bro's proclivity toward sanctimony and making Damon out to be the consistent bad guy, no matter what.

But things seemed to be changing between them. Stefan seemed willing – almost eager – to repair his relationship with his brother, which was about the last thing he expected when he returned to Mystic Falls earlier in the year, especially after his attitude in the '90s.

If confessions were in the air tonight, he certainly had one of his own – one that he'd fearfully been putting off for a while, though he'd never admit that trepidation was the actual main reason behind his hesitance.

It was trepidation for a number of reasons, however – with fear of rejection not even making the top three. Was Elena even ready to hear something like this, given everything she'd had to endure in the last few months? Would he even be good for her? He knew firsthand the potentially shattering impact that romance with a vampire introduced to a human's life. What if he became her Katherine? He knew would never consciously hurt her, but he'd introduce an additional element of danger into her life. He'd made so many enemies over the years – kept his humanity off for over 50 years. He'd never be able to offer her a normal life.

He had to laugh at himself. The normally impulsive Damon Salvatore, dragging his feet with some human. No – no matter what – he'd tell her tonight.

He entered her room through her window, just like every night in the past month. She was hunched over her journal, scribbling so furiously that she didn't even notice him enter. He allowed himself a few moments to smile at the sight, his eyes consistently softer in her presence than they'd been in decades otherwise, perhaps not at all since he was human.

"Sonnet? Philosophical treatise? Gushy fluff piece? Combination?" Damon asked wryly from his perch, then tapped his chin, pretending to consider.

Elena's head immediately shot up, his voice breaking her trance, as an enormous smile flourished of its own volition.

"You'd probably need all three to fully capture my style and my charm; my alluring charisma, my piercing wit," he grinned drolly, pushing himself up to make a slow stroll over to her. "My –"

"Gigantic ego?" she smiled cheekily. "Pathological vanity? Perpetual need to deflect with quips?"

"Some people have to use eclipse glasses just to look at me, Elena," he told her with utmost mock-seriousness.

"What a bright and shining star you are, Damon. A regular Blue Giant –"

"So hot I burn everything in my vicinity? I know. No one likes a Captain Obvious, Elena," he chided with a wag of his finger, stepping closer.

Elena's dark eyes danced with mirth as they connected to his, before she made a show of sucking her breath in, tutting with a not-so-subtle shake of her head as she wrote into her journal. She put on her most serious face and leveled her gaze to his, pretending to read out loud. "Patient shows delusions of grandeur – "

Theatrically sighing in response, he collapsed on her bed next to her. "The curse of genius is to never be appreciated in one's own time. Lucky for me, I'm immortal," he grinned with a flirtatious wiggle of his eyebrows.

Elena felt her heart flutter for a second as she did every time he looked at her this way. She balled her hands into fists, her nails making moon-shaped marks in her skin as she struggled to find her resolve. Today was the day. She would tell him.

She tried to speak, but as usual when she tried to broach this topic, came up short. Why couldn't she just tell him how she felt?

Sensing her obvious consternation, Damon sat up, hoping to soothe her.

Instead, they spoke simultaneously.

"Hey, Elena –"

"Listen, Damon –"

They stared at each other awkwardly for a few seconds, then both erupted in nervous laughter, insisting the other go first.

Elena opened her mouth and closed it a few times again. Why was this so much easier in her imagination?

"I have a dance coming up," Elena nervously began, feeling like the world's biggest coward. "I was wondering if you would," she paused, biting her lip anxiously.Come with me? Because I'm in love with you and I can't imagine my life without you anymore?"Practice with me?"

"Sure," Damon said a little too enthusiastically, relieved at the excuse to push this away for at least a little while longer. The irony ofwordsfailinghimwas hilarious to Damon, who could probably count on one hand the number of times this happened to him in his entire, very long life.

Elena opened her laptop to put on some music, a melodic Doo-Wop ballad that Damon didn't immediately recognize, realizing with an internal groan that it must have had its peak popularity while he and Enzo were unwitting participants in the unsexiest game ofDoctorever.

"What's with the old-timey tunes?" he asked, desperate for a distraction from his intrusive thoughts, which had been coming at an onslaught ever since his humanity returned, and he was running out of effective distractions with which to keep them at bay.

She smiled shyly, taking his offered hand and letting him pull her close. "We're having a nineteen fifties decade dance at the school –"

"Not my favorite period," Damon hastily interrupted before he could stop himself, regretting that his tone was a lot sharper than intended, and desperately hoping that she wouldn't question him on it. He wasn't ready to share that part of himself – not yet – and he wondered if he ever would. He hoped to compensate for it by forcing a soft smile, and maneuvering her close, pulling her flush against his chest. "All the walking Hero Hair ads still give me nightmares."

Elena chuckled and bit her lip, letting her head rest on his shoulder. "No, I get it. It was a monstrous time, pretending to be perfect. Poor Grams had to live through all that. I can't even imagine what it was like for her. I'm glad things are better for Bonnie."

"Marginally," Damon scoffed, swaying her to the music. "Talk to her. There's probably a lot she's not comfortable sharing."

Elena nodded, making note to do that, but got distracted by his proximity. Even though he came over every night to give her dreams, the closeness to which she sometimes awakened in the middle of the night could be explained away as accidental, since it was never how it started – and when she'd fully wake up to daylight, he was seldom by her side anymore. She'd taken to treasuring those moments secretly, breathing his scent in, letting her hands linger on his body – immersed in the wild and sometimes contradictory element of both safety and danger that he represented.

But this was different – they were both here, awake – and every other time they danced, he hadn't held her quite so close. She felt her breaths become shallower, heart beating a wild rhythm, as a familiar heat pooled in the apex of her thighs. She swallowed a thick lump in her throat, mortified that he would somehow sense it, and yet hopeful.

Maybe tonight would finally be the night. She'd wanted this for so long – with him – the one she loved, though it scared her just how much. The feeling was practically overwhelming.

It consumed her.

Damon's face contorted of its own volition into a satisfied smirk as his senses picked up on Elena's arousal – the change in her breathing, her accelerated heartbeat, the hit to his olfactory system. He knew she'd wanted him for a while, however, even if she hadn't yet been ready to admit it. He'd known it since her first visit to the Boarding House, all spunk and righteous indignation when she learned of Anna's subterfuge and his eagerness to keep the ruse going for his own entertainment.

She'd shown all the telltale signs even then, and while he was mostly amused by it, something kept him from acting on it even then. He'd tease and flirt and make a playful show of seduction, but never quite cross that line. The emotional connection Elena made with sex was immediately obvious to him from her behavior, completely intertwined with love. At first, he told himself that he didn't want to deal with the mess of involving himself with someone liable to develop feelings, while his own roared to life without his permission or appreciation, smashing any remnants of defense against his humanity returning to smithereens.

Eventually, he was shocked and initially appalled to discover that what he was really after was her heart, because his own was irrevocably lost to her.

Damon spun Elena out, delighting that their shared rhythm was so in sync – almost like they could predict each other's movements, felt one another's breaths in the depths of their souls.

Before either could properly understand what was happening, his lips were on hers, and her entire form melted into his. Damon tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss as Elena's lips parted to let him in, exploring every part of each other.

The kiss was soft, exploratory, filled with the emotions both tried desperately to repress. They pulled away for a brief few seconds, gazing into each other's eyes in surprise and wonder, unconfined joy swimming on the brink of speech, before the magnetism between them made each itself known yet again, and they were pulled together by its sheer force.

The second kiss was considerably more passionate than the first. The almost nervous, gentle exploration immediately gave way to ardent expression as their hands roamed each other's bodies freely, too long denied. Damon lifted Elena by her thighs, who in turn wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, hands lost in his raven tresses.

Her heart beat a wild crescendo, nearly exploding with utter love and joy, still unable to believe that this was happening – that Damon was finally kissing her – that this was real, and he was here, in her arms, holding her impossibly close.

This was so much better than she could have imagined. In all her wildest, most secret fantasies, kissing Damon never felt so good. Did this mean that he felt the same way – that he loved her, too? She'd kissed and been kissed before, but it was never like this.

Damon brought them both to Elena's bed, pulling her onto his lap. Moving her legs to straddle him, he rolled his hips to press his erection into her jean-clad entrance, pleased when he heard her pleasured moan muffled by the kiss. He'd make this so good for her, if she let him – worship her like she deserved, love every part of her. He wanted so badly to make her happy, to awaken the cheerful, adventurous, carefree girl he met on that forest road all those months ago.

Elena felt her senses explode with vibrancy, sheer want flooding her very being. Even though she'd had sex before – had lost her virginity to Matt – this was somehow the most erotic moment of her life thus far. She'd never loved or wanted anyone quite so much – didn't even think it was humanly possible.

Erring on the side of caution, in case Elena wasn't quite ready to take everything so far this quickly, he slowed his ministrations to thread his fingers in her hair, stroking it down her back while trailing kisses down her neck, her jaw, her collarbones, before returning to her lips.

Needing to breathe, she eventually pulled away, still in a daze over the happy turn of this night. Her eyes darted between his, noting the open joy on his face as he seemed to almost longer on every part of hers, taking it in, committing it to memory, immortalizing it in his heart.

"What does this mean?" Elena asked, still breathless. Afraid to hope.

"It doesn't have to mean anything," he replied softly, playing with a lock of her hair before tucking it behind her ear. Elena had already gone through so much – he was there to witness her nightmares, the one to give her pleasant dreams to help her get through the night. The last thing he wanted was to put additional pressure on her. He knew he wanted a relationship with her – forever if he'd ever get that lucky – but he couldn't put that on her shoulders now.

Elena opened her mouth and closed it a few times, wondering if she'd heard him correctly, before Anna's words from a few days prior came unbidden to her mind.

"Damon, Matt, Caroline, even Stefan to some degree – I – we're not like you two. Sometimes good sex is just good sex – it doesn't have to mean more than that, as long as all parties are on the same page."

She saw his lips moving, deducing that he was still speaking, but she couldn't hear it over the cacophonous shattering of her heart. Didn't mean anything – of course, it didn't mean anything to him. Katherine broke him, and the part of Damon that was capable of that kind of love needed to heal first. She'd heard about and seen enough of his escapades to know that his attitude toward sex was eons away from hers. And that's all this was, she realized with an Earth-shattering pang.

Damon continued stroking her hair, gazing at Elena with all the warmth he'd finally allowed himself to feel – his returning humanity unlocking the full depth of his ability to love – and it was a blinding inferno in its scope. He had no idea it was even possible to love someone this much. But she'd been through such an ordeal, that he'd ease her into it.

They would go at her pace – at her comfort level. "It can mean as much or as little as you want, Elena. I just want you to be happy, because I lo –" he began, but cut himself off when he noticed the distress clearly written on her face, her eyes filling with tears. "What's wrong?" he asked, feeling as though a stake was beginning to lodge itself in his heart. Did he push her too far? Did he completely misread the signs she was giving him? She kissed him back, didn't she?

In the very long string he'd experienced, this was by far the best of kiss of his life.

Elena slipped out of his lap immediately, placing physical distance between then as her arms wrapped about herself, as though to shield herself from the agony of heartbreak. It didn't mean anything to him. She and her feelings and her love meant nothing – she was just a warm body. A friend that he wouldn't mind f*cking, like Anna with Lexi. Tomorrow, he'd probably be in another woman's arms, doing this with her. No, she couldn't let this continue. If she gave this part of herself to him, and it meant nothing, there wouldn't be anything of her left of all. All that would remain would be her pain. She had to put a stop to this, before her heart was completely ripped apart.

"Listen, Damon," she said shakily, surprised that she somehow managed to keep any tears at bay, knowing with perfect clarity that they'd come as an onslaught as soon as she was alone. "I'm not like you, and Anna, and – " she stopped herself before she could say Caroline's name, a vicious mental image of Damon and Caroline kissing, being intimate, assaulting her imagination. She wouldn't be able to handle it if she saw them together. At least it seemed like Anna wasn't interested in him. Hearing of Damon's hook-ups peripherally was one thing, but being forced to continually witness them would devastate her. "I can't be …that… for you. That's not me. I need – I need," she struggled to find the right words.I need more. I need love.

And the stake that edged the periphery of his heart pierced it.Like him and Anna. Vampires. She couldn't be with a vampire. She only got caught up in the moment.

Noticing that Damon had yet to say anything in response, Elena continued to emotionally curl in on herself, increasingly filled with despair. Did she just ruin everything? "It's okay – I understand if you don't want to stay with me anymore, because I can't," her voice shook despite her best efforts to keep it even. It was a miracle the tears hadn't spilled from her eyes yet. She hoped desperately he didn't notice them. "I can't give you what you want – because I can't, Damon. Please understand. It would hurt me so much." To give herself to him this way, and have it mean nothing to him, would destroy her.

"Why?" Damon asked, flabbergasted. Was she really afraid of him? He thought she might be at first, right after Noah attacked her, but she seemed so comfortable with him – it warmed him down to his soul. "You know I'd never hurt you," he said emphatically, taking her hands in his.

"Not on purpose!" she cried, desperate for him to understand, squeezing his hands in return. "But – but beingthatfor you – it would destroy me. Because I need more, more than –"

"More than I can give," he finished for her, clipped, promptly letting go of her hands as he got up to take a step back. So that's what it was. She wanted a normal life – something he'd never be able to offer. "Yeah, I get it." Damon turned away for the fraction of a second it took him to hide the devastation in his eyes. He should have known – what a f*cking idiot.

He should have known.

"Damon…" Elena tried reaching out to him, desperate to at least salvage their friendship – he was taking this so much worse than she anticipated – but he was already by her window. Wordlessly, he blurred away, finally leaving Elena to the privacy of her broken heart, allowing the tidal wave of agony to burst free.

How did everything start out so wonderfully, only to immediately crash? Only minutes ago, she thought she had Damon's love, but now it looked like she wouldn't even have his friendship anymore.

Hours later, at their usual time, a sufficiently broken Damon found Elena curled up in her bed, changed into her PJs, but apparently unable to sleep. She immediately gazed up at him in surprise. Her eyes were red-rimmed, like she spent the entire time crying. He realized with a stab in his heart that perhaps she had. She wanted his friendship, but he wanted her love – and in typical Damon fashion, he lashed out, leaving her devastated.

Maybe he really didn't deserve her. Perhaps this was for the best.

"Hey," he said distantly, leaning against her window.

"Hey," she echoed, the trepidation evident in her voice. She sat up immediately. "You came back," she said, the hope in her tone palpable.

He nodded, guilt gnawing at him for hurting her. "Still want a dream?"

Her face contorted in sharp relief, longing in her expressive dark eyes. "Does this mean we're still friends?"

"Why wouldn't we be friends anymore?" he asked wryly, pushing himself off to approach her slowly, cautiously.Just because you ripped out my still-beating, undead heart?It wasn't her fault, Damon grudgingly reasoned. She couldn't help who she loved.

It's not like anyone could ever love him, anyway. He was a fool to ever believe otherwise, even for those blissful few minutes.

She took off her necklace and bracelet, forcing a smile on her face. This was okay, she desperately fought to convince herself. At least they were still friends, so not all was lost. Maybe Damon didn't return her love, but at least she hadn't lost him. She would just have to get over him, she resolutely decided, despite everything within her crying that it was impossible.

She wasn't being fair, she decided. She was asking for too much – Katherine broke him – destroyed the parts of him that were capable of romantic love with her betrayal. He would probably need time to heal – maybe a lot of time. And she would be there for him, as a friend.

Expecting him to love her back was selfish, and she couldn't be selfish with him.

She moved over to what became her side to make space for him, forcing what she hoped was a genuine and welcome smile on her face.

"I just have to say something," he began, sounding nervous again. He made the decision to confess his love for her tonight, and so he would.

"Now that I've taken off the vervain?" she teased him, trying to inject some lightness into the situation that they both desperately needed. "Did the prank war just resume? Are you planning to compel me to do something embarrassing in school?"

He smiled momentarily – a lingering sadness in his gaze that confused her – then pressed on, taking a seat next to her. "I just have to say it once – you just need to hear it," he said, his pupils contracting in an odd way that she immediately recognized.

She tried to respond to his unusual wording but found that she couldn't.You just need to hear it.She couldn't listen and talk at the same time – he compelled her. She frowned, foreboding gnawing in her stomach.

The look in his eyes was haunted, almost broken. Her heart immediately seized for him, desperate to comfort him – to heal what clearly hurt him so.

"I love you, Elena," he began, "and it's because I love you that I can't be selfish with you – why you can't know this. I don't deserve you. I knew it before, but today confirmed it. I – I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to push you so far."

He loved her? Elena's entire face lit up with elation – pure joy bubbling from within her chest. He did love her! Her first assumption – that ardent hope – was correct! Then what did he mean by not being able to give her what she wanted, she wondered. All she wanted was his love.

She couldn't know this? Why couldn't she know this? Did he mean that she hadn't picked up on his feelings? She wanted to scoff and tell him that she did noticesomething– until their wires got crossed. Maybe they'd have a laugh about it together when he was finally done speaking and his annoying compulsion was no longer effective – right after she explained to him under no uncertain terms that he's never to do this to her again. Elena realized immediately that she didn't enjoy being compelled in the slightest.

The rest of his speech was even more confusing.

Didn't deserve her? Why wouldn't he deserve her? She frowned in confusion, annoyed that she couldn't speak, but only squeezed his hand in reassurance. Maybe he just needed her to listen without interrupting. She'd correct this false assumption later.

"I know you can't love me, because I'm a vampire – and I can't give you the life that you want," he continued, devastation penetrating his voice.

What!? No! Nonono.Her mind reeled, as she belatedly caught the meaning behind him telling her that she couldn't know this. He meant to compel the memory away.No!She screamed internally, her face contorting in horror when she realized his plans.I love you! I love you!She fought against the compulsion with all her strength. How could they have misunderstood each other so completely?

This was everything she wanted, and he would compel it all away, leaving them both in agony.

"But I'll be here for you, as a friend – as anything you need – because, more than anything, Elena, I want you to be happy," he breathed, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

I want you to be happy, too – we can be happy together, she tried to say, but nothing came out.Please, please! She felt the barest traces of her resistance coming through, managing a squeak.

"God, I wish you didn't have to forget this," he murmured, his gorgeous eyes – her favorite eyes in all the word – shining with moisture. "But you do," he choked, the tears finally falling as he completed the compulsion, removing his confession from her memories – and breaking her heart along with his.

Elena felt a curious fogginess recede, as though her mind blanked for several moments. She shook away the odd feeling and was concerned to find Damon's eyes shining with tears.

Damon didn't think he'd ever be able to forget the utter horror, shock, devastation on her face when he confessed his love for as long as he lived. If ever he needed a wakeup call about his own unworthiness of being loved, that was it. He was right all along.

No one would ever love him. He was unlovable. Even the idea of being loved by him was horrifying – at least by anyone who really knew him, and Elena seemed to see right into the heart of him.

If he couldn't be loved, then maybe it was time to return to his favorite source of ego stroke. He hadn't delighted the sisters at the Tri-Delta sorority house with the pleasure of his company for entirely too long, and after tonight, his self-esteem needed a hell of a boost.

"Damon?" she crooned, her hand soft against his cheek, completely forgetting their earlier awkwardness in her concern for him. "Are you all right?"

His response was the most forced laugh she'd ever heard from him, during which he made a show of wiping his eyes. "Yeah, I just can't get over how you thought Anna was in love with Lexi."

Elena rolled her eyes, and smacked him with a pillow, relieved that they seemed to be okay again. And 'okay' was perhaps the best word to describe it. While her heart was undoubtedly broken that he couldn't see her as more than a friend – even one he apparently wouldn't mind meaninglessly banging on occasion, she scoffed – at least she didn't lose him as a friend.

Damon took her hand to prepare her for the dream, making the internal concession that at least she seemed to delight in his company platonically. Fine. He'd just have to force himself to get over her, he reasoned, despite already knowing that it wouldn't be possible. He was lost, wholly and completely. He would always be hers.

It didn't mean, however, that he wouldn't fight with everything within him for a distraction.

"Give Anna a little credit," he raised his eyebrows wryly, unknowingly echoing Anna's own words. "She obviously has taste. I mean, look at who her bestie is."

Chapter 22: Twist Your Perceptions and Shout Your Concerns

Chapter Text

Mid-November 2009

The first decade dance of the academic year was well underway. The speakers were boisterous with Rock'n'roll and Doo-Wop classics, taking the occasional break to sneak in a much more modern song to stir up some anachronism, much to Caroline's displeasure. She just knew someone was purposely pranking her. Keeping her sharp eyes peeled, she sent her cheerleading squad, minus a very resistant Bonnie, to investigate the crack in the totalitarian regime that was her dance organization, and snuff it out.

She'd get to the bottom of this. And then – maybe her mother would finally take her Broadcast Journalism aspirations seriously.

Just asThe Twistconcluded,Thrillerbegan, and Caroline felt her eye twitching so hard it could jump off her face and join the ensemble on the dancefloor. Seriously!? This was an '80s song! Didn't anyone here care about organization, rules, and tradition? She'd get to the bottom of this!

Two songs later, her search yielded nothing, so she decided that a different course of action was required.

She'd lay a trap.

This is where her squad came in – again, sans Bonnie, Caroline grumbled bitterly, watching her traitorous friend take entirely too much joy in dancing to music inappropriate for the era – but more importantly, not part of her carefully-cultivated playlist.

Her eyes wandered to Elena, who'd been wrapped in the arms of her supposed not-boyfriend, a blissful smile on her face. It warmed Caroline to see her friend so happy again after spending the entirety of the Summer mired in depression, only sporadically revealing her true self, hidden beneath the gargantuan layers of grief, when Anna occasionally pulled her out with a laugh.

And although Caroline was a bit bummed that Elena clearly managed to ensnare this new-in-town, mysterious hottie, despite her protestations to the opposite and adamant insistence that they're 'just friends' – yeah, right – she was genuinely happy to see life return to Elena's eyes, apparently on the fast track out of her 'blah' phase. She could be a supportive friend, too, she huffed – and the fact that his sexy little brother was single didn't hurt, either. After she managed to squeeze a sweet kiss from him with the help of his intrepid bestie, Caroline was hungry for more. Her eyes then immediately wandered to Stefan, who looked delectably broody with his perfectly coiffed hair and leather jacket. She'd wipe that frown off his face and put those lips to better use, Caroline grinned as a plan began to form – but no.

Priorities, she reminded herself. She'd first need to get to the bottom of this and find their interfering prankster.

Elena was helpless against her giggle as Damon continued his relentless series of spins, forcing her to crash inelegantly against his chest after losing her balance, despite normally being a fantastic dancer. His laughter joined hers, helping her find her equilibrium again by holding her a lot closer than would normally pass for platonic. She took the opportunity to breathe him in, letting herself get lost in the moment and the daydream for a few seconds.

He barely changed his appearance – clad in the same signature jacket, but now paired with a form-fitting white tee that gave him an irreverent James Dean look. Logically, she understood that he lived through the decade, so it would make sense for him to be able to adapt his usual look subtly enough to match the aesthetic without turning it into a costume. His hair remained artfully messy, though, in sharp contrast to his brother's carefully styled 'do – and a part of Elena wondered how intentional that was.

Ever since that kiss a few days ago, things between them had been … unusual. They'd flicker between moments of intense closeness and moments of awkwardness, at least from Elena's perspective. At times, she could almost convince herself that he loved her as much as she loved him – and in those instances, she'd forget about that painful conversation and give into her feelings, only to suddenly remember and sharply reconsider.

The last thing she wanted was to make him uncomfortable, and to lose him as a friend, too. The thought alone was terrifying.

She pulled back, trying her best to hide the rising blush on her cheeks. "You know, not all of us are supernatural," she mock-chided. "I don't think even Beyonce could have landed those spins elegantly."

"The invitation to the club is always open," he replied, his eyebrows arched in that suggestive way of his.

"Oh yeah?" she grinned wickedly. "You're not afraid I'll upstage you?"

"Please! How would you even begin to do the impossible? I'm just offering you the chance to gaze at and bask in the presence of a living work of art forever. Not everyone is that lucky," he corrected, actually managing to sound like he was chiding her.

"My mistake!" she sounded almost contrite, widening her eyes ever-so-dramatically. "And would his Breathing Aestheticness ever forgive my grave misstep?"

"I'll consider it," he replied charitably. "After maybe five hundred or so years, after you've proven how wrong and sorry you are."

"I don't know," she frowned pensively. "You and Anna seem to have a blast with yourimmortality," she giggled mid-sentence when Damon unexpectedly lifted her off her feet to throw her in the air and catch her again to maneuver her into a dip, and bring her back up again just as quickly. "But what if I lose control? Like Stefan?" she dropped her voice, hoping her query wasn't heard by the object in question, afraid to hurt his feelings.

Damon just rolled his eyes. "Why would you be a ripper, Elena? My brother's a study in extremes – this was also true when he was a human. He was either a rigid rule-follower or a spoiled brat on a quaking temper tantrum, bane of eardrums everywhere. He still has no idea what moderation means."

"I'm not exactly the poster-child for self-control either," she breathed, her eyes involuntarily flicking to his lips and back to meet his gaze while she struggled to regain control of her breath and her wildly beating heart. Every moment, she had to fight herself not to kiss him again.

But then she'd recall what he said.

"It doesn't have to mean anything."

And her heart suddenly broke anew, making resistance that much easier.

He smiled at her, though there was considerable sadness in it before he covered it with smugness. "Stop!" he teased, injecting a sultry tone into his voice that belied his initial facial expression. "You're fine compared to him, believe me," he murmured, pulling her closer under the pretense of being more audible to her human ears, though the real reason was just to feel her body against his. They molded to one another, perfectly in sync. "When a human transitions into a vampire, their personality's amplified. Stef likes to pretend that his 'goodness' was amplified but it was this tendency to go between behavioral extremes – that's why he's either an abstaining monk or a ripper. That stick he has lodged up his ass grew ten sizes that day, too," he trailed off wryly. "You don't have to worry about that."

"But I don't know what would get amplified –" she began reasonably, more lost in the conversation than giving any serious consideration to turning. She doubted he meant it, either. Why would he?

"Oh, I don't know – probably your bleeding heart. Your need to hug and hold and love every undeserving creature, bring warmth to every lost soul set adrift, all that," he replied with theatrical melodrama as he dipped her, though, between giggles, Elena immediately wondered if there was more to his words than he let on, before he leveled her gaze to his, this time his expression serious. "I wouldn't let you lose control and hurt anyone – don't worry," he told her, pulling her back upright.

Her lips teased a smile of their own, as she co*cked her head to study him. "Why do you want me to turn so badly?"

"Who says that's what I want?" he scoffed playfully, walking her through a complicated series of steps, leading to him spinning her out, and then back into his arms – sans kiss this time, they both sadly noted, unbeknownst to each other. "I was just speaking hypothetically. And being a vampire's fun! You have superhuman senses – you're fast, you're strong, you get an awesome hypnotic power. And it's cool not growing old – I like being the Eternal Stud," he purred, maneuvering her into another move that left her in a low dip, only to be tossed into the air, to her absolute delight.

"Hey, Eternal Stud," Anna interrupted sardonically, coming between the pair. "Move it or lose it! I need to talk to my girl here."

Damon raised his hands in mock surrender, stepping away as a laughing Anna and Elena wrapped their arms around one another for the remainder of the dance.

"We need to talk about what Aurelia told me – about you being a doppelgänger," Anna told her seriously.

"What about me being a doppelgänger?" Elena queried a little too loudly for Anna's comfort, who quickly gestured for her to lower her voice, mouthing 'later,' before taking a cursory glance around the room to check for potential eavesdroppers.

They spun each other about playfully for a few seconds, before Anna caught a sharply disapproving look from Peggy Fell, prompting an immediately devious grin as an idea began to form. "I'm signing up for Miss Mystic Falls."

"What!?" Elena replied, shocked. "What happened to it being an outdated, sexist hellscape bent on glamorizing misogyny – and not kowtowing to the patriarchy."

Anna shrugged. "Resistance can come in a variety of ways – and some of those are just too much fun to – resist!" she cheered, leading them both into a mutual spin. "What about you?"

"I don't know," Elena replied, biting her lip. "I just don't think it's my scene anymore – not that it ever really was."

"Comeooon!" Anna whined. "Compete with me. Do it for Miranda!"

"That's manipulative!" Elena replied without any real bite, though her eyebrows were arching every sightly toward her hairline in her shock.

"You'll regret it if you don't," Anna sang sagely. "Your mom wanted you to do it – and it's not that big of a commitment. Maybe it'll make you feel closer to her."

"I –" Elena pursed her lips. "Fine. But I know you're planning something. I can tell," she teased, a smile beginning to form. "Spill."

"That, my dear E, is a surprise," Anna winked, spinning them both, then elaborated, leaning in conspiratorially once they were facing each other again. "I'll let you in on some details once the plan starts coming together. I've a feeling a certain Bennett witch might be all too eager to assi—" she frowned, following Elena's obviously distracted, gloomy gaze to Damon, who was surrounded by several girls apparently insistent on vying for his attention.

"What's with you two?" Anna asked shrewdly, gesturing to the vampire in question, who'd now begun to undertake one of his favorite activities of all time – mocking his younger brother.

"What do you mean?" Elena replied, feigning innocence.

Anna rolled her eyes. "I mean, you're constantly flitting between making sad, puppy eyes when no one's looking and acting like a couple on their honeymoon, minus the hot, sexy action."

"Isn't hot sexy action basically a requirement for honeymoon bliss?" Elena shot back wryly. "So, you mean we're acting like friends."

"Don't be a smartass," Anna chided, then shook her head, grinning. "On second thought, do. Much more fun. Did something happen? The energy's all off – it's weird."

Elena lowered her voice, looking around, before suddenly recalling supernatural instincts. "Follow me," she whispered, grabbing Anna's hand and making a beeline for the bathroom.

Caroline's posse scoured the dancefloor in search of any anomaly. She'd get to the bottom of this and locate the saboteur. Putting their heads together, she and her cheerleading squad had discovered that there was, indeed, a pattern.

A non-'50s song would first pop in every other song, then every three songs, then every four – increasing in intervals of twenty minutes. That meant that whoever was doing this was likely either losing steam or the willingness of their accomplice, Caroline surmised. It was difficult to tell precisely who was changing the playlist, because she already changed it back multiple times. Did someone log in remotely?

It was at that moment that Melissa ran in, letting Caroline know that Tom told Becky, who told Susan, who told Melanie, who told Harper that Jeremy's been sneaking away to allegedly 'smoke,' but always came back looking a little too nervous.

Got him, Caroline smirked triumphantly.

By their collective estimates, the next song would most likely send him on another playlist-ruining attempt, at which point, she'd catch him red-handed and suitably terrified.

Predictably, she gestured to her cheer crew to make a path so she'd be able to follow him unimpeded, successfully cornering him in an adjacent empty classroom.

"Jeremy Gilbert!" Caroline screeched, absolutely aghast that her friend's little brother would undermine her authority so demonstratively. "You want to explain to me what the hell is going on here!?"

"Caroline!" Jeremy's horrified face immediately snapped to hers, practically jumping back in terror and embarrassment. "W-what are you doing here?" he stuttered, panicked at having his subterfuge potentially exposed.

"Oh, I don't know," she intoned sarcastically. "Just looking for a little saboteur. Someone's been messing with my perfectly chosen playlist. Seen anyone like that?" she asked, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Wow, really?" Jeremy asked, desperately trying to play to cool, to Caroline's narrowed eyes. "I'll keep a lookout."

"That'sverysweet of you, Jeremy," she pressed, grabbing his phone out of his hand before he could hide it. "Oh, would you look at that! Remote access! How did you get this, anyway?"

Jeremy's only response was a positively stony face, unwilling to give away the connection he'd labored and sacrificed to create, all to impress –

"Is this about Anna?" Caroline asked shrewdly, after studying him for a few minutes.

He instantly deflated. "Yeah – I mean, she's into mischief, clearly," Jeremy confessed, running the back of his neck awkwardly. "I heard all about that prank war she and my sister had with that Damon guy who keeps coming over."

"Wait, what?" Caroline asked, surprised to be so caught off guard with this news. "What do you mean?"

"She thinks I don't know, but I hear them talking sometimes. He sneaks into her window at night – every night – to give her 'dreams,' or something, whatever that means. Whatever they've been doing, it clearly works. Elena stopped being able to sleep through the night after the accident, and now she does, so –"

"So, you pretend not to notice," Caroline inferred. "You're a good brother, Jer," she told him softly.

"Yeah, except I told you now," he scoffed. "Please try to keep this a secret. I don't want her to get all self-conscious about it, put a stop to it, and start getting nightmares again. She's a lot happier now. Between him and Anna, it almost feels like the real her is finally breaking through from wherever she's been hiding."

"You can count on me," she told him confidently. "I never reveal a source," she winked, despite planning to confront Elena about this – after she did some digging, of course.

"About Anna – I just want her to notice me," he said glumly. "It feels like whenever she comes over, she just bounds straight for Elena's room, and even if she does acknowledge me, I'm just her kid brother."

"But you like her," Caroline said sympathetically. Somehow, seeing the crestfallen look on Jeremy's face took all the joy out of her small victory in catching her saboteur red-handed.

"What's not to like?" Jeremy replied sullenly, finally stepping away from her to take a seat on one of the couches, defeated. "I just wanted her to notice me," he confided. "Maybe if she investigated and found out that I was behind the music prank, she'd think I'm cool, and –"

Caroline sat next to him, squeezing his shoulder affectionately. "Become interested?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "It sounds stupid now that I'm saying it out loud."

"It's not stupid. We all want to be liked – believe me, I understand that more than anyone," she laughed, then groaned when all the memories of her desperate attempts to be chosen suddenly flashed before her eyes. "And you're a sweet guy, Jeremy, but I don't think Anna's where you are emotionally right now. When she first moved here, yeah. She later told us she was really lost and alone, but then we all got to know each other, and she started opening up. Then something happened, and she went to go visit some aunt of hers overseas or something, and ever since she came back, it's like she's so much better. She said she now she feels a lot more whole. I actually think she's trying to make up for lost time in a completely different way," Caroline explained, trying to break it to him gently.

"How do you know?" Jeremy asked desperately.

Caroline laughed. "She told us as much when we teased Elena and Bonnie together. Anna's just trying to get laid now, trust me. She's not looking for anything serious," she said, then sobered sympathetically. "You might want different things. Tell her how you feel, but be careful with your heart, okay?"

The second she said it, something clicked into place. The mutually heartbroken expressions both Elena and Damon tried to hide from each other. She smiled, feeling the intrigue within her build.

Yet another journalistic mystery to solve.

"What about you?" Jeremy asked. "All these committees and trying to win first place in everything. Is there someone you're trying to impress?"

"Hah," Caroline laughed half-heartedly, almost sardonically. "I don't even know anymore. For the longest time, it was my mom – trying to prove that I'm serious and not as shallow as everyone thinks. But I'm tired of being seen that way. I'm not like –" she stopped, telling herself that she'd stop comparing herself to others so much. "I can't just coast by and get A's like it's nothing – and yeah, I have to study and fight for my grades, but you have no idea how good it feels to prove everyone wrong. Now I think I'm just addicted to winning," she shrugged. "Maybe a therapist would have a field day with me."

"You and me both," Jeremy chuckled. "What is it about this place that just attracts so much weirdness?"

Elena closed the heavy door behind them as soon as she and Anna entered the girls' bathroom, after which she proceeded to turn on every faucet.

"Taking lessons from the Stefan Salvatore school of environmentalism?" Anna quipped. "You widen that carbon footprint! I believe in you."

"Do you and Damon share barbs now? Poor Stefan," Elena chided, despite the smile on her face. "No, Damon told me that white noise like this keeps vampires from overhearing."

"Did he now? Are you going to regale me with juicy gossip that's not for supernatural ears?" Anna beamed, delighted to get yet another one-up on the Salvatores.

Elena bit her lip nervously for a moment, trying to psych herself up into taking the plunge. "We …" she paused, gathering her nerve. "Kissed."

Anna just stared at her blankly, at least a little underwhelmed. That's it? Everyone with eyes knew that was coming. "And?"

"And it was amazing," Elena said dreamily, leaning against the bathroom wall under the gravity of the recalled sensations. "I never felt anything that –intense– in my whole life. It was like every part of me – even parts that I didn't know existed – were suddenly on and soalive, like I was one fire, but somehow also caught in a current, drowning."

"I feel like that kind of poetic prose should be saved for your journal," Anna quipped excitedly, grabbing Elena's hands, who was only too eager to reciprocate. "So, how far did it go? Are you two official now? Or just taking it slow with some casual dating?"

Elena's face fell instantly. "I … no. No, Damon doesn't want that with me. He doesn't see me that way."

"He doesn't?" Anna asked dubiously, having seen plenty of evidence pointing to the contrary.

"He said the kiss didn't mean anything to him," Elena ground out, unable to look at her.

"He really said that? Are you sure?" Anna frowned.

"I don't remember his exact words, but that was the general meaning. He's cool with casually hooking up, but nothing beyond that. We're just friends," Elena elaborated with a shrug and the most forced smile Anna had ever seen, her voice trembling despite the mockery of joviality she desperately fought to maintain, quivering and frozen as she lost the battle with her emotions.

"He askedyouto be his casual hook-up. You?" Anna asked flatly. "I really think you should try to talking to him about this again."

"Why?"

"Because," Anna groaned, grabbing the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger in annoyance for a moment before facing her best friend again. "Contrary to what I've been saying about him since you met, he's not actually an idiot. I mean, okay, yes, granted, this may be a little my fault since I did paint that image of him for a really long time after the truth of my super-excellent fake amnesia prank came to light," she explained, unable to stop herself from preening just a little. "And what with him getting taken in by Katherine, and obviously I'm a bit biased about that, because I hate that bitch, so my bad. But she also tricked my mom, so I've since reconsidered by stance. Talk to him. He's not dumb. You are a terrible candidate for that sort of thing, because you'd get way too attached, and it'd get all messy, and – believe me – he's not into all that drama."

"He made his position pretty clear, Anna," Elena insisted, obviously pained – terrified to even let the hope build again. "The second I told him I wanted more, he bolted, and I didn't see him for hours," she explained, her voice quivering. "I was so afraid that I lost his friendship, too, because I pushed too far. I don't want to risk that again."

"Elena…"

"Anna, I can't! I can't put myself out there like that with him again. You have no idea how much it hurt last time. You don't understand! I love him, and he –" the rest of the sentence was swallowed by her quiet sobs that she desperately tried to fight, ultimately losing the battle when she felt Anna's arms encircle her waist. "And he doesn't want me," she whispered brokenly. "Not like that."

Anna responded by tracing soothing patterns along Elena's back, completely floored by her confession. Love? She knew there were feelings involved, but not quite that serious. And while she sincerely doubted that Elena's interpretation was entirely correct, she elected to let it go for now.

At least until she was able to perform her own side investigation into the matter.

By the time the girls left the bathroom, Elena's makeup had been retouched and redness in the sclera of her eyes could almost pass for a contact high from the resident stoners making camp in an empty classroom a few doors away from the festivities, with the faculty seemingly none the wiser.

Allegedly.

In reality, the largely indifferent chaperons for this and every dance have mostly given up on chasing after harmless stoners in favor of protecting against real dangers to the student body – Mystic Falls' unusual proclivity toward attracting animal attacks – sometimes even indoors.

The girls were about to enter the gymnasium again to rejoin the party, when they were headed off by a very concerned-looking Stefan.

Noting the clear distress and physical evidence of tears in her puffy eyes, he stepped closer to examine her. "Elena, what happened?" The expert-level frown in his forehead only deepened then as his features took on a look of profound disappointment. "He told you," he sighed. "I told him that we should wait for the right time, but he just impulsively – typical Damon," he growled. "You weren't supposed to find out now, Elena – not at the dance. I'm sorry."

"Told me what?" Elena asked, genuinely confused. "What wasn't I supposed to find out about?"

Alarmed at his misstep, Stefan immediately began to backtrack. "That we might not be able to make Friendsgiving this year," he attempted. "Damon and I know how much our presence means to you, since we all had so much fun together when Anna made that dinner."

"Somehow, she'll survive," Anna deadpanned with a marked roll of her eyes, suspicious that Stefan would genuinely believe the news would bring her to tears.

"Oh," Elena replied, unable to hide her disappointment. "That's okay. We can always have dinner some other time. Please don't feel guilty about it," she attempted to soothe.

"Thank you for being so understanding," he nodded curtly, desperate to get out of there, and turned to leave.

"Unless, of course, that's not the actual news," Anna sang, relatively sure that Stefan was indeed hiding something.

"Is it?" Elena pressed.

"Elena –" Stefan attempted to deflect.

"Tell me, Stefan!" Elena insisted, growing visibly worried. "If it's important, and it concerns me, I have to know. I won't be able to stop thinking about it."

Stefan sighed, genuinely angry at himself for jumping to the wrong conclusion and thinking the worst of his brother – again. It was a habit he'd recently become aware of perpetuating – only noticing it largely thanks to Lexi, however inadvertent. Her latest visit provided enough moments where her harsh judgment of him sharply contrasted reality when juxtaposed, especially where Elena was concerned.

And then he realized that he was prone to those same things and felt ashamed of himself. It was then that he genuinely decided that he would make a sincere effort to stop – to get to know his brother again, and to willfully give him the benefit of the doubt, hoping that it would eventually become a habit.

Tonight marked a perfect example of where he'd gone wrong.

"When I first saw you this Summer … when I saved you from the river, I couldn't get over your uncanny resemblance to Katherine," he admitted, satisfied when the two girls nodded in agreement. At least this part of his story was understandable. He only hoped they'd extend the same generosity as he continued. "So, I began to watch you – to make sure you weren't her," he followed up quickly to Anna's increasingly narrowed eyes and Elena's visible discomfort.

"Not your best excuse for channeling preppy Norman Bates, but go on," Anna snarked.

"I eventually realized that you two were completely different, so I looked into your birth records and," he sighed, bracing himself to deliver the news. "Elena, your birth certificate from the city records. It says Elena Gilbert, Mystic Falls General. But there's no record of your mother ever being admitted. There's no record of her ever being pregnant."

"What?" Elena breathed, already so emotionally overwhelmed that she could scarcely put it together. No… No, it couldn't be. Someone would have told her. They wouldn't have kept this from her.

She wasn't Jeremy's real sister? Or Jenna's real niece? Or even John's real niece? Given how mean he can be, he'd probably resent her most of all, she shivered.

She's the reason Jeremy's an orphan and she wasn't even his real sister?

Elena stood completely mute as her eyes filled with tears as she took several steps back, her head shaking with emphatic denial, refusing to accept this.

Stefan took a cautious step closer, and Elena responded by taking an even sharper step back. "I – I'm sorry, I can't," she choked, before finally looking at Anna. "Can we please get out of here? I can't be here right now."

"Yeah," Anna said quietly. "I'll text Bonnie and Care – they'll let everyone know we left."

Elena nodded and left the building without a backward glance, taking off with an anguished run as the road before her blurred through the veil of hot tears. Maybe if she ran faster, farther, she could get away and pretend like none of this was true.

It didn't take Anna long to catch up to her, and within minutes, Elena was out of breath. "Tell me what you need."

"I need Jeremy to have his parents back, before his fake sister stole them from him!" Elena roared, unleashing her pent-up rage onto a nearby tree, only to sink to the ground, convulsing with sobs. She was so sick of crying. It felt like it's all she'd done for the last few days. Quite suddenly, she felt herself enveloped in a strong, but slim embrace. "He'll hate me when he finds out," Elena lamented, resting her head on Anna's shoulder.

"No, he won't."

"I can't believe they never told me. Was anyone ever going to? Was Jenna?" Elena demanded, betrayed.

"You'd have to ask her," Anna replied pragmatically. "Want me to be there when you confront her?"

"No. I have to do this by myself," Elena sighed. "Argh!" she growled, growing agitated again. "I just want to call her and yell at her so badly!"

"So, call her," Anna shrugged.

"I can't," Elena deflated. "She has an exam on Monday. If I hit her with this now, she won't be able to focus. You know how it is with grad school. Anything below B is a failing grade."

"She's lucky to have you," Anna smiled.

"No, she's not. I'm the reason her sister's dead."

"E, come on…"

"And Jer – if it weren't for me, he'd still have his parents. He'll hate me for this. I know he will! I'm going to lose my brother."

"Hey," Anna murmured, refusing to let go of her. "First of all, Jeremy's not going to reject you – but even if he does, you have a family. You'll always have family," she said adamantly, pulling back to look at her fiercely. "You have me!"

Elena wrapped her arms around Anna fiercely. "You have me, too, Anna. Always. I'm never letting you go. You're stuck with me. Forever."

"Careful," Anna teased. "That's an interesting turn of phrase for a vampire."

"About the doppelgänger thing?" Elena pulled back to ask, though she looked entirely too overwhelmed to handle anything else at the moment.

"Hey, later," Anna replied soothingly, rubbing her forearm. "It can wait until later. We'll deal with this first. That's not an emergency," Anna insisted, hoping that she was right.

In the hours since Anna took her home, Elena was overcome with a shocked numbness. She felt so many conflicting emotions at once – betrayal at having been lied to her whole life; fear that Jeremy would disown her; guilt for the role she played in their –his, she corrected herself – parents' deaths.

Maybe if she never came into their lives – if she was never adopted – they could have been a happy family to this day. No one would have snuck out to a party on Family Night. The three Gilberts would have stayed home, and Wickery Bridge wouldn't have claimed any lives that night.

Instead…

She was so mired in her thoughts that she hardly heard her window open, nor the familiar footfalls that had been following it every night for months. When she felt the space next to her on her bed sink with the weight of another body, she finally lifted her head from her knees, encircled by her hands, to look up at her visitor.

"What's wrong?" Damon asked soothingly, letting his fingers graze her cheeks. She gazed into his eyes for several whole seconds before speech returned. Swallowing through the building lump in her throat, "you didn't overhear Stefan's news?"

"No, I had to go outside and take a phone call. Council business. Next thing I knew, Anna took you home," he explained, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. His expression suddenly settled into disappointment when he deduced what happened. "He told you," he said flatly, correctly guessing the source of her distress.

Anger fueled her at his admission. "And how long have you known!?"

"Only since this morning," he was quick to correct her, calm her, soothe her. His hands found her cheeks again, letting his thumbs stroke gentle patterns in an attempt to ease her heartache. "We both agreed that we'd pick a good time to tell you. I didn't realize baby bro thought a dance was a good venue for Earth-shattering news."

She calmed instantly, nodding into the hand that she found cupping her cheek. "He didn't mean to – he thought you already told me. It doesn't matter. The truth's out now."

"What are you going to do?"

"Confront Jenna when she comes back," she spat. "It took everything inside me not to call her and yell at her about keeping this from me, but she's taking an exam on Monday, and – I can't," she groaned, feeling the wind knocked out of her.

Damon nodded, pulling her into his arms.

She relaxed in his embrace, wondering precisely when it became her absolute favorite place to be.

She practically felt him smile, sensing a barb. "You know, you're looking at this the wrong way. I caught Little Gilbert trying to mix stripes and solids at least three times, just this week. Now's your chance to say 'hey, I'm not related to that!"

Elena laughed for the first time in what felt like ages, even though it's only been hours. The world changed since then, however, and the first bout of laughter in this new reality where she was Elena No-Name, Elena Un-tethered, Elena-Parent-Killing-Life-Ruiner, sounded almost rough, like the sound emitted from deep within her was so surprised at its own existence that it at once erupted boisterously in its shock, and tried to silence itself in its shame.

The sounds soon coalesced into quiet sobs as Damon tightened his hold on her. There were soothing tones whispering in her ear and soft kisses pressed into her hair. She was so angry at herself – she had to stop crying. She didn't deserve to cry.

Forcing herself to take several deep breaths, the sobs finally receded.

"You okay?"

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak for several whole moments. "I wish – I wish I could give Jeremy his parents back."

"I know," he murmured into her hair.

"Anna wants me to sign up for Miss Mystic Falls, because my mom – Miranda," she corrected herself, "would have wanted me to."

"She's still your mom, Elena," Damon chided. "She raised you."

"I lost the right to call her that when I killed her – especially now," Elena lamented. "If they had known, they never would have taken me.'

Damon pulled back to look at her, making sure she faced him – absolutely needing her to hear and feel his words. His thumbs gingerly wiped the tears from her cheeks, lifting her gaze toward his. "I don't want you believing that anymore. They loved you because you deserve to be loved – because you make everything and everyone better. Because I'm happier just having you in my life, in any way I can get."

Elena was almost thunderstruck by his admission, so used to hearing Damon dance away from serious matters with quips, almost desperate to hide any show of vulnerability behind a veneer of carefree flirtation and sarcasm. Her eyes flickered to his lips for a moment, aching to kiss him again, before she forced them back up – in time to notice his eyes still on her lips.

Her heart thundered in her chest. She squeezed, her fingers digging into the back of his shirt, as she fought to calm herself. She needed to get a hold of herself before she broke her own heart again.

"I wonder what my birth mother is like," she finally said, choosing to start the conversation back up in lieu of losing control.

"Ugh, who cares?" Damon scoffed, though grew immediately contrite when her acutely hurt expression sprang up to his. "She left you. She sucks," he explained. "Sorry – I just have a thing about negligent mothers."

Elena frowned sympathetically, taking one of his hands in both of hers, playing with his fingers. She took a moment to make her decision before pressing forward. Experience showed her that Damon was reluctant to discuss his past, but she knew she'd regret it if she let the moment pass. "Was your mom like that?" she asked quietly, before looking back up at him. When he looked profoundly uncomfortable to her – the telltale signs of the tightening of his jaw and refusing to meet her eyes appearing, she smiled at him, squeezing his hand. "Is that why you adopted Doctor Kaw-Kaw? A tribute toThe Crowand your stance against negligent moms?"

"That's not her name," he finally relented, delighting Elena with the genuine smile she managed to tease out of him.

"What is it, then?'

"She's a bird. She doesn't need one," he replied flippantly, and something about the wistfulness in his tone didn't read true to Elena, but she let it go for now.

"Then I'll just keep calling her Doctor Kaw-Kaw," she retorted defiantly, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's better than 'bird!'"

He was quiet for a few moments, staring at a point in the distance. "Sammy."

Something about the faraway expression of his voice made Elena's breath hitch. Everything inside her screamed that this moment was significant, though she couldn't be sure why yet. She caught a rare flash of vulnerability in his eyes before he could mask it, but it was enough to make her own heart flutter. He looked so beautiful to her when his heart was open. "Sammy Kaw-Kaw, MD," she said softly, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Sammy has a PhD in Aeronautics. Have you seen her fly?" he countered in mock-annoyance, wrapping his arm around her. "Stop assuming you know so much about my familiar."

"Fine! Sammy Kaw-Kaw, MD, PhD!" she giggled.

"She's considering a dentist residency, so that may or may not extend to DDS sometime in the near future," Damon revealed importantly.

"What was your dad like?" Elena asked, pulling back to study him curiously. It was obvious to her that he let the comment about negligent mothers slip out, and was now trying to walk it back in typical Damon fashion. But maybe if she asked the right questions?

"The less said about him, the better," Damon replied a little too quickly, then leaned in with a conspiratorial wink. "Typical mid-nineteenth century douche. He thought regular bathing invited evil. Trust me, you have no idea how glad I am didn't have a supernatural sense of smell back then. Aside from a stake to the heart and fire, Papa Salvatore's smell is probably the third way to kill a vampire."

Elena laughed but had a feeling none of that was actually true, and that Damon was again deflecting from something painful. She was undeterred. "Will you tell me someday?"

"Maybe," he said unconvincingly.

"Damon," she soothed, her hands gently cupping his cheeks before she could stop herself. "If they couldn't see how amazing you are, then it's their loss – because it's the clearest thing in the world to me." As soon as she became aware of her hands' placement, she began to pull them back as though burned, but he stopped her. She cast him a confused glance.

"Elena, don't – there's no need to be awkward around each other. Just because we don't feel the same, it doesn't mean that anything's changed. You still mean everything to me."

"You mean everything to me, too," she breathed, and thew her arms around him, a healing balm spreading down to the core of her being when she felt his arms wrap around her in return.

She pulled back, profoundly relieved, searching his eyes. "Does that mean you're still coming to Friendsgiving?"

"Wouldn't miss it," he replied affectionately, squeezing her hand, his thumb tracing her knuckles. At times like this, Elena could almost swear his eyes were alight with love for her, as hers were for him, but there was also such a penetrating sadness in them that he desperately tried to hide behind his quips and taunts and flirty gestures.

She never wanted him to be sad again.

"I'm glad," she smiled, and wrapped her arms around him again, letting the embrace soothe her down to her very soul.