Wow, three updates in 24 hours. As I said, the muse is kicking. It won't always be this quick, though. Thanks again to all of who you keep reviewing. It means a lot to me.

Warning: There's a somewhat dark moment here at the beginning, but things get better.

XOXO

"Elena, I hate you."

He forced the words out of his mouth while his breath mingled with hers and their fingers linked. It physically hurt him to do it, and yet a small part of him wished that if he could just voice it, it would be true.

She held perfectly still for the long seconds of silence after he spoke. Then her eyes closed, her fingers slipped from his and she stepped back. The look in her eyes cut him to the core and he had to fight every instinct to keep from pulling her to into his arms and forgiving everything.

Instead he tightened his jaw and met her vulnerable gaze with his own hard one.

"Damon…" She stammered his name, "You don't mean that."

"Don't I, Elena?"

"No." She shook her head. "No, I don't believe you."

"That's your choice."

"Damon," Her eyes pleaded with him, "Please don't do this. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything. I've been stupid. I know that. Just… please…"

He closed his heart off as best he could. "Do you need to hear me say it again, Elena? Will that convince you?"

She held up a hand and shook her head. "No. Please don't, Damon."

"Why? Does it hurt your feelings?" He edged nearer to her, quickly losing control of his warring emotions. He wanted to hurt her, to hold her, to scream at her, to comfort her. "I hate you, Elena."

"Stop, please…"

He grabbed her arm and pushed her up against the wall, his face inches from hers. "I hate you. Do you hear me? I hate you."

"No," She pushed against his chest. "No, you don't."

"I do!" He shouted at her. "Why is that so hard for you to believe, Elena? How many times do I have to tell you before you'll understand?"

"Damon, please don't do this." She gripped his shirt and looked up at him. "Can't you see you're hurting me?"

"What makes you think I care? Haven't you been listening, Elena? I don't care. I don't love you."

"I don't… I can't believe you."

He turned his face so that his nose brushed against her cheek. One of his hands snaked up her arm to cup her neck, her cheek. She sucked in a shaky breath.

"Try harder then. How many times do I have to tell you? I hate you, Elena. I hate you, I hate you, I… " He pulled back enough to look into her eyes, taking in the full impact of the pain he saw there. "Why? Why can't you just accept it?" He gripped her arms, pressing her harder against the wall, watching as tears streaked down her face. "Why, Elena?"

"I don't know." She sobbed the words. "Damon, stop, please. I can't…"

"I hate you!" He shouted at her, his hands sliding up to his shoulders so he could shake her. "I hate you, Elena! I hate… I ha…I…" His voice broke and he felt his own tears forming. He cupped her face and kissed her hard. "I love you." He whispered. "Damn it to hell, Elena, I love you so much."

She gasped against his lips as he kissed her roughly, latching her arms around him and holding on tight. He kissed her long and deep, pouring everything he felt into the melding of their lips before wrenching away and leaving her wide-eyed, flushed, and wanting.

"No." He held up a hand, warding her off. "This is not happening, Elena. It is not that easy."

She stood silent for a moment, catching her breath. Then she spoke. "You still love me."

"No!" He dragged his hands through his hair and turned, picking one of the bags of blood from the cooler and throwing it across the room as hard as he could. It hit the wall and splattered, streaking Elena's arm with chilled, human blood. She startled, but he ignored her, striding over to the barred door.

He slammed his palms against the door, trying to move it solely with his own strength and adrenaline. It didn't budge and he let out a growl of frustration. "I'm done with this! This is over, Elena. I want out. I said the words. Make the call."

"No." Her voice was a whisper, but he heard it. He turned on her.

"What do you mean, no? I'm not playing with you, Elena. I want out and I want out now." His eyes widened dangerously and he loomed dangerously over her. "Push me a little further and see what happens."

"You had to convince me." Elena's voice only shook a little as she stared him down. "You didn't. You don't hate me, Damon. You still love me. You can't tell me otherwise."

He sneered at her. "Maybe. But I want to hate you. I wish with every non-heartbeat that I could hate you. That doesn't seem like the best foundation for a relationship, Elena. But then again, what do I know? I'm not the relationship material kind of guy, am I?"

"You are who you want to be."

He let out a humorless laugh. "Profound, Elena. You are wise beyond your years. But you're in for a rude surprise because whatever temporary idea of me you've cooked up in your pretty little head that made you decide that this was a good idea… it's wrong. And I can prove it."

"You can't make me hate you, Damon."

"Hmm…" He smiled coldly. "Can't I? I slept with Rebecca the night of the ball." He smirked at her before adding, "And I liked it."

To her credit, her face remained impassive. "I know."

She had managed to surprise him. "What do you mean you know? What are you my stalker now?"

"It's a small town, Damon. With lots of reasons to talk." Elena sighed and turned away from him, bending down to pick up the broken, empty bag of blood off the floor. "I knew the next morning."

"And you want me to believe you don't care?"

She shook her head and held his gaze. "I care. When I found out I wanted to die. She was there with you that night when I came to talk to you. You left me crying in your entryway and went back to her."

"Maybe." Damon shrugged. "So what?"

Elena looked down at the ground. "So it hurt me, Damon. But I'm not angry with you. One thing we've learned from the Originals… balance in the universe is important."

"And that applies… how?"

She looked back up at him. "I know I've hurt you over and over again. And you've hurt me too, but you've never made me feel unloveable like I've made you feel. Rebecca… you and her… together. Well, that balanced the scales a little."

He didn't want to feel the urge to hold her, comfort her. But he did, and the need was strong. He'd been with Rebecca for the sole purpose of forgetting Elena and hurting her in the process. And now that she was standing in front of him… hurt and noble and forgiving… he only felt a self-loathing that was all too familiar.

"Don't do that." He shook his head. "Don't play the martyr, Elena. I hate martyrs."

"I'm not." Elena insisted. "Damon, I mean it. I'm not angry with you."

"Well you should be!" He raised his voice at her. "I did it just to hurt you."

"I hurt you first."

"So you just forgive me? I don't need your pity, Elena."

"It's not pity!" She advanced on him, her voice raised now too, her fists balled at her sides. "Damon, listen to me. If you could just stop hating yourself long enough to pay attention you would realize that no one blames you half as much as you blame yourself. You don't want to be forgiven, do you? It makes you nervous. You don't understand it because you've never forgiven yourself, ever. Not for one thing in your whole life and that breaks my heart, Damon."

"Stop it, Elena."

"I won't." She squared her shoulders and stared him in the eye. "Love is about forgiveness. I love you, Damon, and I will forgive you for the stupid things you do whether you like it or not. So just deal with it!"

He stared at her, feeling himself open up to her even though everything inside him told him not to. "So what, then, Elena? If I love you I'll forgive you?"

"That's up to you." She said softly. "I can't make you forgive me, Damon."

"And what if I do?" He edged closer to her, hardly believing he was making even this one alloance. "What if I swallow my pride and forget the hurt and risk everything because you've suddenly decided you love me too? Then where are we?"

She smiled gently and stepped toward him, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head on his rigid chest. He kept his hands at his sides, not hugging her back.

"We're right here." She murmured. "Together. The rest we figure out one step at a time."

He allowed himself one touch and slid a hand down her back, pressing her closer. She curled against him and he mentally cursed himself. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. He wasn't supposed to cave in like this. But he loved her… so what was he supposed to do?

"Can we get out of here now?" He asked, carefully extracting himself from her embrace. "The small space is seriously screwing with my head."

She stepped back and gave him a wary look. "If I let you out are you going to push me away again?"

He shrugged, like it was no big deal to him either way. "We can talk."

She smiled. "Yeah?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, Elena. Trust me, we'll be talking. In particular, we'll be talking about how it's not okay for you and Stefan to assault me whenever you get the whim."

"I'm sorry." Elena walked over to the barred door and slipped her hand through, feeling around the top of the window for her phone. "Really, Damon. I wouldn't have done it if I had seen any other way to make you listen."

"Yeah, well…" Damon muttered, watching interestedly as Elena slipped the phone back through the bars. She was getting good at this evil plot thing. "Next time get creative before you get violent. Try a notarized letter, or a bird carrier or something. The broken neck and the vervain… less fun all around."

Elena rolled her eyes at him as she dialed Stefan's number. "Sure, I'll keep that in mind…"

XOXO

I really hope you liked the pacing of this! It's hard to get the pacing of restored hope just right, but I gave it a decent shot. Again, please let me know your thoughts. I love feedback and I will respond to feedback whenever possible. Thanks for reading!