She wasn't a monster. She didn't revel in pain like he did. She didn't want to cause pain, that was his thing.

This was different.

She looked at the brunette beauty on the other side of the room. What was so special about her, she's never know. But men seemed to be drawn to her like moths to a flame. All she had to do was bat her pretty little lashes at one, and every man in the world would practically fall over one another to get to her.

And Caroline was fine with that. Until now.

Until that bitch batted her eyelashes at the wrong man.

He didn't fall for it like the others, but he hesitated for a small second.

That small second changed everything.

And here she was, still pretending to be the loyal little doormat everyone so loved to walk over. Too scared to be alone. Too desperate for appreciation to leave.

That small hesitation was the breaking point.

The switch flipped so fast she didn't even know what happened. One second she feels a gut wrenching pain in her gut, and the next...

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

She wasn't the one holding the pretty brunette by the throat, a foot above the ground, slamming her head into the wall next to the dart board. She wasn't the one basking in the smell of fresh blood being spilled. She wasn't the one laughing like a psychopath on the inside. And yet she knew she was. She just couldn't believe it. It was like being in a dream, where you see your body doing things you have no control over, like throwing her best friend on to the pool table behind her, no matter how hard she tried to get control of her hands, she couldn't stop them from breaking the cue in half, or stop herself forcing the sharpest end through her best friend's chest until it came out on the other side, pinning the gorgeous girl down.

Movement behind her forced her to avert her attention from the sight of the graying body of Elena Gilbert, and focus on the black haired stranger they'd all fallen for at some point. Another one of her so called friends who used her only when they needed to. She felt her mouth twist as he charged at her.

The other end of the pool cue went through his chest faster than he'd thought it would.

Something popped out of place, and it all went dark.

She woke, confused and disgusted as vivid flash backs of her nightmare replayed themselves in the back of her head. Her neck hurt like hell, and when she moved to ease some of the pain, she realised something wasn't quite right. Looking around she realised she wasn't in her room, she wasn't even in her house. She was in his house, on his couch.

She felt his presence in the room and turned in time to see him walking into the room, shirtless and his jeans riding dangerously low on his hips. He stood by the drinks cabinet and observed her for a second before speaking with his back to her as he poured to glasses of bourbon.

"Quite the performance last night love. Could hardly belive it was you." Her nightmare from before came back to her and she shook her head violently. Trying to shake the image out of her head. "Belive me love, it was no dream. It was in fact very, very real." He almost purred as he spoke to her, as if her behaviour was something to be proud of.

He must have noticed the look of disgust on her face as he sat down next to her. She suddenly noticed that, other than the blanket around her, there was nothing else covering her. She immediately pulled the covers closer to her. She glared at his the teasing glint in his eye and tried to curl deeper into the couch.

"What happened last night?"

"You killed your friends." She shut her eyes at his matter-of-fact tone.

"No. I didn't. I couldn't have." He took a long drink from his glass as she tried to get her head straight.

"Actually, yes, you did. A beautiful display of emotion, if I do say so myself love."

"B-But Damon... I didn't do that to him, did I?" When she saw him look at her as if she knew the answer, she felt sick. "Oh God... Elena." She felt her throat clamp up as tears started streaming down her cheeks. He held her until the sobs died down and dissolved into occasional sniffs. He got up and poured another glass for each of them.

"I am sorry love."

"You were right about me Klaus." He looked confused.

"Was I? About what?" After a few shaky breaths she looked up at him, and the lost look in her eyes punched a hole in his stony exterior, and he knelt before her, waiting for her to answer him.

"We're the same."

"No love." He stroked a stray strand of her hair, and tucked it behind her ear. "Belive me. About you I've never been more wrong." She struggeled through choked sobs as she tried to speak.

"How could you say that, after what I just did?" He tried to smile, but it didn't hold as her tears were threatening to wreak him completely. He wiped her tears and put his arms around her instead.

"Because I was never this distraught after killing anyone. Not even ones close to me." He took a deep breath and kissed her head softly. "As far as I'm concerned love, you'll never be a monster."

She smiled and kissed his lips softly.

"Thank you Klaus."