***important read!***

Wow. Chapter 4 went in a very different direction then I had originally planned. I'm pretty sure you guys thought it was going one way, too. Well hurray for PLOT TWISTS! :)

Two parter once again. Damon&Elena POV. ALSO...IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT... My goal as a fanfic writer was to get to 70 reviews by chapter 7. we have THREE more chapters to go for that to happen. So please drop a line for me, will you? Thanks loves!

You also are probably wondering why Damon and Elena haven't had a conversation. Don't worry. Next chapter it's serious Delena time..

The cheerful sound of my ring tone sounds absolutely inappropriate as it bounces loudly off the walls. I wipe the last of the tears from my eyes and breathe deeply as the sunshiney notes of the cellphone song begin coming to an end.

It's now or never. I can pick up that phone, knowing full well nothing good will come out of it, or I can leave it be. I can let Damon hear the sound of my voicemail and drive him away for good.

Unless. Unless...

Unless it has the opposite effect and he ends up booking it right to my door, blue eyes flaring as he chastises me about not picking up my phone.

I close my eyes and I can almost see it. "Why didn't you pick up, Elena?" Damon manipulating his voice to be angrier than he really is, the soft pads of his thumbs brushing my face, past sins completely forgotten at the untimely reunion. I have a butterfly hope in my chest that it will bring him home, and this nightmare will end. Damon can teach me everything I need to know, and I can retire to the safety of Stefan after every lesson.

Before I can make my decision the ringer comes to an end, and my dark room is once more plunged into a crushing silence. My head falls in my hands and I force back another helpless sob, because Damon was practically in my room, just a slide of my phone lock away, and I let it slip through my fingers because I was too damn indecisive.

I guess some things never change.

I could call him back, but I'm not sure I want to.

I could text him, but it seems far too impersonal.

The worst part is knowing I now have an eternity to battle with these emotions. An eternity to lay in Stefan's arms and try and keep a "what if" from slipping past my lips.

I'm brought out of my momentary depression by the pert little "blip!" my phone lets out, announcing it has one new message.

One. New. Message.

With a fluid movement I'm still not used to yet, I've got my phone in my hands, eyes all glazed from tears and hair a knotted and messy mess. It still smells slightly of sand and fish and lake water.

My thumb shakes uncertainly over the 'listen' option that will surely give me access to the sound of Damon's voice. My fear is knowing that maybe he left a goodbye message. A goodbye forever message.

And I've already figured it out that I'm pretty much nothing in the forever department if Damon isn't involved.

Just as I'm about to press down on my screen, it lights up a second time.

I raise my eyebrows. A text.

A text from Caroline.

I'm distracted for a moment, standing there and staring at the text. It very nearly makes me forget all about this epic inner battle I was just having with myself.

I can't find Tyler. Bonnie has been gone for more then 24 hours. Klaus is back.

My hands begin to tremble as I read and re-read the message again and again. This is really shaping up to be my worst nightmare. The more I read it the more I begin to shake with fear. My palms begin to sweat and my throat is closing up fast. I'm as good as dead. A lot of people are as good as dead. If there's one thing I've learned, you don't double-cross Klaus. And now here I am, doppelganger #2 that's escaped his grasp. Without leaving anyone behind for a new one at all.

Klaus will make us all pay for this. He may have even started with Bonnie and Tyler. My stomach does weird flippy things that have nothing to do with my ever-growing hunger.

For a moment I stand still, debating my options, thinking of ways out and roads in. Then it hits me.

The one person who is the most danger right now is the person who doomed me to become a vampire in the first place.

I choose to ignore Damon's voicemail and Caroline's text because I'm calling someone else.

I'm calling Stefan.

xXx

It goes straight to her voicemail.

'Hey you've reached Elena Gilbert, leave me a message and I'll call you back!' Her noticeably younger voice chirps over the phone, with some background noise, as if she was leaving it in the middle of a happy family dinner.

I guess that maybe she never got around to deleting it. A little piece of her she doesn't want to lose.

"Elena, it's Damon," and I roll my eyes at myself, no shit, Sherlock. I have got to get better at leaving messages, "I'm coming home because obviously there's something wrong if you don't answer your phone."

I hang up and, with the sheer will power that comes with 160 years of living, I don't try to call her again.

Maybe there is something wrong. My mind is jumping to conclusions so fast I'm pretty sure I'm going to have broody eyebrows to match Stefan's if I keep it up. Did she even end up transitioning? I'm up and pacing, running fingers through my tussled hair and gnawing on my lower lip. Is my brother Stefan standing in a black suit over Elena's grave, all hero-hair do and angst, with the rest of the gang? Right now? Without me?

Life is an even bigger bitch then I thought. So is my imagination.

Now what the fuck do I do? Carry through with my message about returning back home to make sure Elena's okay? That's Stefan's job. Except that I hate Stefan right now, a-fucking-lot, and my emotional switch is playing all sorts of games on me because I can still feel. I'd really like to gain one up on Stefan and hang around so that Elena and him can never have their perfect happily-ever-after.

That's so petty. I should probably audition for Desperate Housewives or Gossip Girl because that's right where my thought process belongs. I'm pretty pissed at myself for even knowing about those shows. Dating Vampire Barbie for that brief period of my life exposed me to the true horrors of American television.

In fact hearing Elena's happy voice, so vibrant and alive, in her message, makes me want to go out and destroy a bus full of seniors. Because it reminds me of the way her voice used to sound when she was so sure of Stefan and her. So happy and secure in the knowledge that she had the perfect boyfriend. The brightest future. And then the baddies found her, no, more specifically, I found her, and dashed her hopes and crushed her dreams.

Because Elena is my drug and Stefan is that cranky old policeman that keeps getting in my way.

I'm pretty sure if Jeremy were old enough, he'd be in a uniform right up there with Stefan too. I've taken to calling him the Little Cockblocker Jr. Stefan being the biggest, baddest one of them all.

He's so good, he pretty much can cockblock himself.

Except where Elena's concerned, in which case my brother seems to hold the golden motherfucking key.

I'm pretty sure it's because of how whipped I am over this girl that I'm packing my bags in harried, hurried movements. I've got a small black handbag full of vodka and whiskey and okay, yeah, Alaric's favorite mixture, because not only am I a heartbroken vampire, it seems I've also become quite the nostalgic son of a bitch too. Once as the alcohol is in the bag my packing is done. I didn't bring any clothes or precious mementos with me.

I'm out of that musty Holiday Inn in five seconds flat. The cool air of the evening feels a hell of a lot better than that dusty bedroom, and I pause in the parking lot for one second, just long enough to think: Am I really going to do this?

And the answer is yes. Because I'm in love with Elena, and I need to know she's okay before I go out and live the rest of my life in the shadows of Stefan and Elena's epic love. If I just get out what I've been meaning to say: how many times she's done me wrong, how I was always there, how I don't understand - if I can just get it all out once, I'll be all set for watching the Precious Moments series coming my way. I need to see her face when I tell her I'm done trying, even though every subtle movement I make will be for her.

My thoughts are getting so crazy devoted I glance down to see if I've got a collar around my neck. With a cute little name tag or something.

Damon Salvatore. 160+ years old. Belongs solely to Elena Gilbert, please return upon finding.

It's just really sad, the bullshit that is my life now.

I pop open the hood of my car and lay my bag down gently so I don't break any of my life-saving bottles. The irony of laying the bag over a few of Alaric's old wooden stakes and vervain darts isn't lost on me either. A vampire driving a car made for killing vampires. When did I become such a traitor to the cause? I make a mental note to clear out Alaric's stuff. Can't be reminded of everything I've lost, now can I?

I take my time making my way around the back of my car, and take even more time opening the door and sliding in, because let's face it, this is just about the most selfish, desperate thing I've done in my life. I mean I'm only going back to Mystic Falls to check on Elena, spew out a few from-the-heart speeches, make Stefan seriously pay for all the shit he's done, and hightailing it back to the open road once more.

I've got my keys in the ignition all ready to go when I hear a smooth voice from the back seat.

"Hello, Damon."

I know that voice. That voice makes me very nearly break my keys in the ignition lock. It's not sweet like the other one's voice, it's filled with 500 years of seductive knowledge and horrible, horrible pick up lines.

I roll my eyes and groan, because there goes my perfect plan of a peaceful ride back with nothing but my tortured mind to keep me company.

"Katherine."