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"What just happened?" Elena asked. Both she and Damon stood staring at the empty doorway through which Stefan had carried Katherine's body.
Damon shook his head. "Nothing good."
"I have to go after them. I have to make sure Stefan's okay." Elena made to move towards the door, but Damon held out an arresting arm.
"Not a good idea, Elena. He's probably miles off by now. And having you with him while he buries your doppelganger ex might be just a little weird for him. He'll be back." But Damon wasn't as confident as he sounded. The way Stefan had reacted was startling, to say the least. He'd spent 150 years swearing up and down that Katherine had meant nothing to him, that she'd compelled his love and on and on like an insufferable ass. But when push came to shove, Stefan had been shaken to the core at her death. Huh. It had to be done, Damon had no regrets, but he wasn't so sure that Stefan would come out of this unscathed. "Besides, we've got work to do. You wanna grab the other side of this mattress?"
Elena looked around, seeming to notice just how wrecked the room was for the first time. She blinked at him. "You just killed Katherine, Stefan just ran off with her body and you want to clean?"
"What can I say, cleaning puts me in my happy place. C'mon, Elena. There's nothing we can do for him right now. Stefan's gonna go do his thing and then he'll be back and you two can resume doodling hearts and unicorns together in study hall just like always." Damon seized the mattress without her help, starting to wrestle it back onto the box springs. It wasn't heavy, of course, but it was awkward for just one person to deal with.
"So you're just going to pretend like this doesn't affect you? Like everything's fine? Damon, you just killed Katherine. The woman you spent forever obsessing over. That has to mean something to you." She was so earnest with those big eyes and that little quaver in her voice. It almost made him—but no. That part of him was gone. The same part that would have been screaming over Katherine's death had carefully locked away any affection he may have felt for Elena. Much tidier that way.
Damon shoved the mattress into place, tossing a pile of discarded bedding on top. "I'm not pretending. Katherine made it painfully clear that I didn't mean a thing to her and never had. She was obviously here to stir up trouble, and it was about time I repaid her for that century and a half of suffering. I'd think you'd be happy she was gone. She did invade your house, try to kill your uncle slash father, and turn Caroline, after all." He stooped, picking up a teddy bear that had fallen to the floor. "And how is Caroline still alive? You didn't stake her? That girl is going to make the worst vampire."
"She's okay. I mean, she killed a carnie, but she's gonna be okay. But we're not talking about Caroline right now. We're talking about—"
"Spare me, Elena. Maybe Stefan has mopey, pathetic feelings about Katherine's death, but you know what I feel?" He tossed the stuffed animal aside, striding over to Elena, staring down at him. "I feel free. And I refuse to feel sorry for that." Standing so close to her, he realized for the first time how pale and tired she looked. It hadn't been an easy night for her, dealing with a vamped Caroline and Stefan's defection. Not when you had to feel every hurt, every pain…No. He was doing the right thing, keeping his emotions safely locked away. This just confirmed it.
Elena looked up at him in silence for a long, long moment. He wanted to move away, put some distance between them, crack wise and go back to cleaning the room or slip out the window and into the night, but he didn't. He stood, evenly meeting her gaze until she spoke.
"What you said about Jeremy. About how you just wanted to help him take the pain away. Was that true?"
Here it was. He knew the event had to come to a head sooner or later, that she couldn't just accept that he was a monster who had killed her brother and stolen her free will and blah blah blah. She had to understand it, try to see the good in it.
"Yeah. I meant every word."
She considered this in silence for a long moment. "I believe you. It makes you a complete and total psychopath, but I know that in your own drunken, upset way, you were trying to help. Even though it was really, really screwed up, and if you ever try to compel me again, I'll—"
"Yeah yeah, stake me where I stand. I get it." He cocked his head to one side as he looked down at her. It was a very small shift, but something had changed. A faint smile quirked his lips. "You don't hate me anymore. That was fast."
"Don't make me regret it. Now are we gonna clean up this room or what?"
