A/N: Okay, guys, after 4x04 I needed therapy. I wasn't even sure I should publish its result, but I thought that since I wrote it anyway, why not? Fair warning: it's a downer. Hope you find it theurapeutic, too. Anyway, tell me. And of course, much love to CreepingMuse for her beta work.


I shouldn't go in. I really, really shouldn't.

Elena went anyway.

The door to Damon's room was ajar. Even though she could flash into the room in less than a second, Elena approached it cautiously, like every step could trigger a bomb. Maybe it would do something worse. But there was nothing worse than the way things were between them now, and Elena desperately needed to make it all right.

Taking a final deep breath, Elena opened the door, lingering in the doorway.

Damon was lying flat on his back, arms behind his head, and staring at the ceiling. His face looked almost painfully tired, and Elena had to suppress a sudden urge to caress his cheek just to cheer him up. She smiled affectionately and leaned against the door frame. Any minute now Damon would look at her and smirk. He'd say, "Well, hello, Elena." And maybe, "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Maybe his tone would be cold or even angry, but she would talk to him, explain everything, and they would be back to normal.

He didn't say anything. Elena waited and waited until the silence became awkward, and Damon still didn't acknowledge her presence with so much as a look. It hurt more than she'd expected, but she could take it. If he needed to hurt her now, she would let him.

"Hey," she said. Damon finally turned to her, his expression blank.

"What do you need, Elena?" he said quietly. She shuddered.

"Why do you think I need something?" Elena took a few more steps and sat in the armchair, turning it to face the bed. Damon lifted his eyebrows slightly, like he was stating the obvious. Elena could feel tears starting to burn her eyes, and she hated it. So much for being strong and keeping herself together. She struggled to inhale. "I'm awful, aren't I?"

Damon sighed and rolled his eyes. "Don't be dramatic. You're not awful. If you're wallowing in self-pity or self-loathing, go to someone who's good at that. Not gonna help you with that, sorry." Elena closed her eyes. "Back to the point, though – what is it that you need?"

She almost rose from the armchair to sit next to him on the bed, but stopped herself. She wanted, needed to be closer to him right now – but she desperately wished she didn't.

Elena opened her eyes to find him scrutinizing the ceiling again.

"Damon," she said and waited until he pressed his lips together and reluctantly looked at her. "Forgive me."

It was almost imperceptible, the moment when he widened his eyes and his lips quivered before his mask snapped back into place. She noticed anyway.

"For what, Elena?"

She had already opened her mouth to explain, and then let out a laugh and shook her head.

"Where do I start? I've hurt you so many times," she whispered and looked away. His sympathetic gaze was too much. She couldn't take it. "And yet, you're still here for me. After everything I've put you through."

Damon flashed one of his fake smiles. "Yep, I'm pathetic like that."

"No!" Elena countered, moving to sit on the bed next to him. She wanted to hold his hand, but had to settle for looking at him, pleading him with her eyes. Damon stared at her suspiciously. "You're loyal, and-" she broke off. What she was about to say seemed like too much of a revelation. But seeing his distrustful expression she knew she had to tell him the truth. "You're the only person who I know will never let me down. I know it doesn't look that way, but I value that, Damon."

He looked away. "And yet you hate who I am."

"I don't," Elena argued on instinct, not even fully understanding what he meant yet. Damon smiled at her like she was a child, and suddenly Elena was consumed by an irrational fear. Had she really done it? Had she broken him for good?"

"You do, Elena. It's okay. I get it. You're ashamed of being like me. You're ashamed of being with me." He narrowed his eyes, and Elena was about to say he was wrong, but Damon went on before she could answer. "Don't lie and say it's not true. You're only here because Stefan is hunting and there's nobody to see you in my room and judge you."

"I should be ashamed," said Elena. In a desperate attempt to soothe Damon – or herself – she put her hand on his face, grazing his lips with her thumb. "The problem is I don't know if I really am," she added quietly. "And I'm scared. I'm sorry."

She could feel his breath caressing her hand.

"You don't get to do this, you know." Damon's gaze unequivocally pointed to her fingers on his face. Elena jerked her hand away and blinked back new tears.

"Forgive me," she said again. "Please." Damon didn't say anything, instead just looking at her placidly. Instead of calming down, Elena started sobbing. "Do you want me to beg? Is that what you really want?" She jumped to her feet, angrily wiping off the treacherous tears, and turned to look at him again. "Because I will. I can't stand seeing you like this, and it's even worse that it's my fault."

Damon sat up and rose to his feet to stand right in front of her. Elena let out a shuddering breath. He was too close, and yet it felt okay, good even. It felt right. She closed her eyes and lowered her head.

"Don't cry. You obviously can't help it." His voice was soft, soothing, but Elena knew him well enough to understand that he desperately wanted to break something that very moment.

"You don't want to forgive me," she said, raising her hands to cup his face. Damon grabbed her wrists before she had a chance to make contact and looked her in the eye. Elena shivered.

"I want you to get the fuck out of my room and stop torturing me," he said in the same deceptively calm voice, letting go of her wrists. Elena winced like he'd just slapped her, but didn't move, feeling compelled by his icy stare. Damon went on. "You know very well that I won't leave you. I'll help you. I'll do what you need me to do. But this…" He leaned in a little, and Elena closed her eyes. Part of her wanted to give in and close the gap between them. Another part wanted to run away and never look back. "This has to stop." He nodded, as if to convince her further. "Go."

"Damon," she whispered. "Don't. Don't push me away."

He didn't say anything.

"Will you ever forgive me?"

Damon held her gaze for a long while, searching for something in her eyes. Then he sighed, leaned in and kissed Elena's forehead. More tears escaped her eyes to trail down her cheeks. How did he make her feel so loved and cherished even after she had broken his heart again? Damon pulled back and raised his hand to wipe away her tears. Elena looked away.

"I forgive you. Now leave."

Elena swallowed hard and nodded. Not daring to look him in the eye she turned around and went to the door.

I don't want to leave.

But I guess I should.


The End


A/N 2: Please, do not consider this fic part of Elena hate and don't assume I support it. I love Elena Gilbert. She's a strong, determined, loving person from who each of us can probably learn something. I just think this needs to happen. If you're upset, go watch webclip 2 of 4x05. ;) watch?v=SXgiPa7HAGM