Set at the end of "The Return," the story diverges as Damon makes a fateful choice to calm Elena's fear and terror at Jeremy's death. All characters belong to their respective copyright holders.
"I love Stefan! It's always going to be Stefan."
Damon thought he couldn't possibly bear any more pain after his rendezvous with Katherine. There just didn't seem to be any more room for it inside of him: it invaded every crevice, every thought ached with the agony of Katherine's utter apathy.
No, Damon was positive that there was no more room for pain. Until that face—that same face—told him again that it was always Stefan, never him. It had been Stefan 150 years ago, it was Stefan today, and it would be Stefan a thousand years from now.
Guess there was more room after all.
He dropped her hand, lip curling in disgust as he gazed down at the little thing. Here he was, wrong twice in one day. Lessons learned: there's always room for more pain, and Elena was exactly like Katherine after all.
Vaguely, Damon heard Jeremy shuffle into the room, but it was barely worth his notice. Poor little stoner boy. The kid knew something about pain, too. His parents, Vicki, Anna…
"Nothing, Jeremy. It's okay, just go back to bed," Elena said.
Damon jerked his head up. How could she lie to her brother like that? It wasn't okay. It never would be again-not for Jeremy and not for him. It never could be. Just one more lie. He couldn't let this one stand.
"No it's not okay, Elena." He turned his eyes towards Jeremy. Damon could practically see the pain oozing out of the boy, a writhing mass of misery. But he could help. He could help. "He wants to be a vampire."
In a blink of an eye, his hand was around Jeremy's throat. He could feel the blood pulsing sluggishly beneath his palm, still slow and weak. Anna's blood had healed him, but not entirely. Was there any of her blood still in his veins? Did it matter?
"You want to shut out the pain? It's easy. It's the easiest thing in the world—the part of you that cares just goes away." Lie. It never went away, not really. It was always lurking there just out of reach, a gushing wound with a bandage placed daintily on top.
"All you have to do is flip the switch, and snap." Such a small movement and Jeremy crumpled to the floor. The pain was gone. One way or another, Jeremy's pain would be gone.
Until he heard Elena's anguished sob. The pain wasn't gone—it redoubled as a stab of something Damon vaguely remembered as guilt struck him. He watched Elena's face crumple, saw the tears come. He'd only shifted the pain from Jeremy to Elena (Katherine? No, Elena). It was still there.
He had to make it stop. She wouldn't let him do it the way he longed to, to take her in his arms and hold her and wipe every tear away. Those judgy eyes told him that she saw only a monster.
But he had to make it stop. Before he'd even made a conscious decision, one hand snaked out to that necklace around her throat, that gift of his love. A flick of the wrist tore it away and sent it flying across the room.
He ducked his head to look into her eyes and reached for that dark well of strength within him, the part that could make the pain stop.
"Elena, stop crying. Please. Everything's going to be all right."
The tears ceased immediately, leaving behind only traces on her cheeks, her eyes still locked on his. Her lips barely moved as she echoed his words. "Everything's going to be all right."