AN: Just wanted to say thank you SO much for your feedback, guys! Yes, I'm even counting the 'story added to alert's that this story has received! Really. Thank you so much. I'm taking this one chapter at a time. I hate it when I can't finish a story...it feels like I'm letting everyone down, so I'm trying to end every chapter with something conclusive. Yes, I know, you couldn't tell with the last chapter, but I promise it gets better! I've got chapter 3 finished, so once I get chapter 4 finished, I'll post chapter 3. Maybe I'll split it up just to get chapter 3 up...right now, it's a doozy xD Again, thank you guys so much for all your reviews and alerts, and happy reading!

Stefan may have said something else after that, but Jeremy hadn't heard it. He finally went into the boarding house, letting his feet carry him to the common area. He found exactly what he was looking for. At least the location of the booze hadn't changed.

"Jeremy, that's not what you need." Stefan said slowly, having followed Jeremy into the house.

But Jeremy ignored him and poured himself a glass, anyway. He knew it wasn't the liquid is throat was burning for, but…he wasn't ready to face that yet. Jeremy downed the liquor and started to pour himself another glass, but Stefan's hand covered the top of the glass before Jeremy could blink.

"Jeremy."

Jeremy was getting really tired of hearing Stefan say his name, especially when he said it in that tone—the one Elena always used. Used to use, Jeremy corrected himself.

"You need to keep your mind clear right now, okay?"

"Keep my mind clear?" he repeated, suddenly angry. "I'm missing the last five years of my life! Not to mention I'm…I'm like you now, and I can't even remember how it happened or who did it!"He gripped the glass and pulled it out from under Stefan's hand. "I don't think sobering up will do anything to clear my mind." He growled, pouring more scotch into the glass.

"That's not what he meant."

Jeremy's head snapped up at the new voice, and he mentally groaned.

Damon was one of the last people he wanted to see, but that didn't stop the older vampire from sauntering up the stairs from the basement, looking like the cat that ate the canary.

"Damon," Stefan lifted his head to look at his brother. "Now isn't a good time."

"I completely agree with you, Brother. It's late, and I don't feel like listening to Mr. Seven Stages of Grief all night, so I brought a little gift."

But one look at Jeremy, and anyone could tell that he hadn't been listening to the brothers. His eyes were fixed to something Damon held at his side. Damon certainly noticed, and his smirk was even more smug when he raised the blood bag and Jeremy's eyes followed it. He shook it a little, enjoying the way Jeremy's jaw tightened. But he didn't have long to be smug, because Jeremy was suddenly six inches from him, veins pulsing beneath his blackening eyes.

Damon glanced at his brother, and Stefan looked as surprised as Damon felt. Jeremy was only five years. That wasn't long enough for him to be able to move like that. At the same time, five years was more than enough time for Jeremy's body to adjust to being without blood for three or four days. So the fact that Jeremy was this hungry meant that he hadn't fed for at least that—and yet, he was still moving about as fast as Damon could.

Damon extended the blood bag out for Jeremy to grab, and he did reach for it, but then he was struggling against himself and backing away from Damon. But Damon didn't let him get away so easily. Every step Jeremy took back was a step Damon took forward.

"I can't…" Jeremy said, his voice breaking just above a whisper.

"Actually, you have to." Damon said matter-of-factly.

"Damon's right, Jeremy." Stefan interjected. "We don't know how long it's been since you've fed." Then, a little gentler, he said, "You're a vampire now. You need blood to survive."

"I know about vampires." Jeremy snapped. "You don't have to lecture me like a child." He forced himself away from Damon and went back to the liquor cabinet and poured himself another drink.

"Yes, because you have so much experience being one."

"I've been one for five years. Apparently, Stefan, I was doing something right." He raised the glass to his lips, and Stefan swooped in to steal it, as expected. But Jeremy used his own speed to push Stefan away before he could get to it, which slammed Stefan into the back of a couch—ten feet away.

Jeremy's breath hitched in his throat when he realized what he'd done. Averting his gaze from Stefan, he downed the drink.

"You know," Damon's voice made Jeremy turn, and he saw the vampire walking towards him again. "I remember you being quite the vampire groupie back when you were—you know—human. You were dead set on turning when Anna offered to do the dirty deed.

His slow and mocking voice grated on Jeremy's nerves. "So?"

"So what changed?"

Well that one was easy to answer, and Jeremy was too on edge to worry about someone like Damon know something so personal. "I only wanted her to change me because I thought Vicki was still alive."

A light flickered in Damon's eyes. Jeremy couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing, so he just kept talking.

"And even when I knew Vicki was dead, I didn't want Anna to be alone. And when she died, I didn't want the pain. But I decided for myself." He bit out the last few words. "I knew that I was drinking vampire blood. I wanted to. But this?" he gestured to himself. "This wasn't planned. I don't know why I was drinking vampire blood, and I don't know who was giving it to me. That's what changed."

Damon was silent for a moment, and from the expression on Damon's face, Jeremy couldn't tell if the vampire was about to laugh at him or kill him. "So you're telling me," he started. "That you wanted to turn, and then the love of your life broke your heart, and now you're upset that you were forced to turn against your will?" He gave a snort with that famous smirk. "Been there, done that. You'll get over it."

But Jeremy didn't miss the split-second glance his brother. Jeremy had connected the dots before Damon finished his comparison of their situations. He just gave Damon a glare and shook his head. "Difference is, Damon, you were turned by the woman you loved. I don't even know who the hell did this to me."

"You know…" Damon started in that voice that teetered on the edge of insanity. "I've got a solution for all of this." He was closer to Jeremy; enough to make him nervous, but not enough to make him nervous, but not enough to worry about Damon ripping his heart out. But that didn't mean Damon wouldn't try, so he was still wary.

"What? Gonna kill me again? You had no qualms about it the first time, so—"

He saw Damon move, but he saw it too late. Damon had opened the blood bag and splattered its contents in Jeremy's face. Jeremy had just enough time to recoil and shield his face with his hands. Blood dripped from his soaked palms down the length of his arms. Jeremy's eyes were black again, and he felt the painful rip of his gums as his fangs began to protrude.

He leaned in slowly, the edges of his vision blackening slowly as he zeroed in on the tantalizing scent. Jeremy imagined what it would taste like if he just—

And that was when Jeremy snapped himself out of his trance. His throat was burning even more than before, and his vision was still dark around the edges. Jeremy stumbled, feeling like he was going to throw up. He needed to wash the blood from his face, his hands… Jeremy heard Stefan call out to him, and Damon said something snarky in reply, but Jeremy didn't stop to think about their words. He just ran as fast as he could—which was only a human pace, seeing as he couldn't stop stumbling and running into things as his knees weakened—to the guest bathroom he knew was just around the corner. The trick was getting there.

As soon as he got to the bathroom, Jeremy turned the hot water on full blast and shoved his hands under the stream—at least, that's what he wanted to do. But Jeremy just stood there, staring at his hands as the blood dripped onto the white porcelain of the sink. His thoughts drifted back to focusing on the blood. Its color was vibrant, even though it was probably a few days old. Its smell was intoxicating, alluring…empowering. As if just one taste and Jeremy could do anything he wanted—be anything he wanted.

It wasn't until he'd licked all of the blood from his left hand before he realized what he was doing. But by then, Jeremy didn't care. He started on the right without a second thought.

When he was finished, Jeremy spared a glance at the mirror. He saw the blackened and sunken in eyes surrounded by pulsating and protruding veins; they were his eyes. Jeremy stared at his reflection for a few more minutes, and then he put his hands under the steaming stream of water, not caring about the temperature. It was when he turned to dry his hands that he saw Damon's reflection looking at him.

His arms were crossed, and he looked even more smug than normal. "Told you so." He said with his trademark grin. "You just had a taste. Come on. There's more where that came from." With that, Damon turned and went back down the hallway, obviously waiting for Jeremy to follow him.

So he did.

AN: Sorry if Damon and Jeremy are a little OOC. I'm not good with comedy, and I know the least about Jeremy in the whole series-since he's not in the books. Gimme some time to write chapter 4, but chapter 3 should be coming your way, regardless. And if you have any questions that you want to see answered, please shoot me a PM. I allow anonymous reviews so anyone with or without an account can be heard. But yeah, seriously. Sometimes I think I've answered all the questions in a chapter, but sometimes I'm wrong. So if you have questions, I'll put the answers in the following chapter. And if this story falls by the wayside before then, I'll answer them directly.

Thank you so much for reading!

~Jean