AN: I've been excited to post this chapter because I've been dying for a convo like this to happen on the show. Pretty sure I shouldn't hold my breath for it, but still, it needs to be said. I can't wait to hear what you think. Enjoy!

Chapter Ten – Twice Shy

Lost in thought, Damon leaned heavily on the accelerator, taking turns far too quickly for the gravel roads. As Landis and the bloody massacre faded from his rearview mirror, he focused on the miniscule amount of information they'd gleaned about Klaus and Stefan.

Savannah wasn't far, they could get there by nightfall if they grabbed their things from the motel room and set out right away. Once there, it would just be the small matter of catching Stefan alone so that he could be vervained and brought to a secure location to sober up. Damon rolled his eyes, amused by the fact that finding and trapping Stefan would be the easiest part of this plan. It was an astounding testament to the insanity that had become his life. He hadn't even begun to consider what do to about Klaus. If Katherine could be trusted – which was always an unequivocal maybe - Stefan was fulfilling some sort of debt to the Original in exchange for Damon's life. Maybe he'd accept a trade…

"We have to go back." Elena declared suddenly, interrupting his musings.

"We have to what?" he frowned, acknowledging her with a glance for the first time since she'd turned around in her seat after watching Landis' brutal attack.

"Back," she repeated, urgency coloring her tone. "We have to go back and help that girl."

"Help what? The left over pieces of her corpse that Landis left behind?" Damon shook his head. "The girl is dead, Elena. Get over it."

Shock and righteous indignation radiated off Elena and Damon didn't even have to look at her to feel the heat. "I watched her get her heart ripped out and you want me to just 'get over it'?"

"There's nothing you could have done," he reasoned, turning into the motel parking lot and pulling right up to their door. "That girl was dead before you even got out of the car. Getting in Landis' way would only have gotten you killed, too."

"You didn't even try," she accused, using her disappointment in an attempt to chastise him, but Damon wasn't about to feel guilty for what had happened.

"No, I didn't," Damon admitted without regret. He hadn't wished the girl dead, but he had no ties to her and no loyalty. Certainly nothing that would have prompted him to put Elena's life on the line. "Keeping you safe is my only priority, Elena, and I'm not apologizing for that."

Elena glared at him, her eyes rapidly filling with tears. Damon wondered if they were borne of anger or fear or helplessness, but she furiously blinked them away before he could guess. Hastily, she released the seatbelt and climbed out of the car, slamming the door behind her.

"Great," he grumbled, following close behind her as she ran to their room and began fumbling with the key. Finally opening the door, she tried to slam it in his face, but he easily caught it and followed her inside. Elena angrily stripped off her jacket and tossed it toward her suitcase before running her fingers though her hair.

Damon's eyes narrowed as he noted the signs that preceded a hysterical breakdown. The last time it had happened was after Bonnie's 'death'. Slowly, he walked toward her. "You need to relax."

"Relax? How can I relax? I just watched a girl die, Damon. A human girl who had a family and friends, maybe even kids or a husband who are never going to see her again. They're never even going to know what happened to her," Elena's face was pale and despite his certainty in his actions and the fact that, once again, she was going to use him as a punching bag, it cut him to see her so upset. "And you let that happen. You could have saved her and you just…drove away."

"I did what I had to do to keep you safe," he returned, as patiently as he could, ignoring the voice in his head that screamed at him not to engage, to walk away. "And yeah, a girl died, but you didn't know her any more than I did. Why are you taking this so personally?"

Tears glistened in her eyes as she sneered condescendingly. "So, her life somehow doesn't matter because I didn't know her? Is that what you're saying?"

Here we go. Damon briefly closed his eyes, shaking his head. "That's not what I said."

"Of course it was," Elena argued, furiously dashing away the tears as they started to slide down her cheeks. "I can't believe I ever thought there was any humanity left in you. There's not. You're just as bad as Katherine. The only thing that matters is what you want."

They'd reached the point in the argument where he usually retreated to maintain some semblance of dignity and to let her get over herself. He knew Elena, understood that this was how she reacted when she was scared or upset, lashing out at the most convenient target. Nevertheless, he was sick of being the one to always take the brunt of her fury. "Stop acting like this is the most awful thing I've ever done. I made a choice, Elena. To save someone I love over someone I've never even met. You've done the same thing."

"I have not," she cried with her usual righteous indignation.

"Oh really?" he countered, advancing on her and forcing her to back up until her knees hit the bed. "What about the sacrifice, Elena? You fought me every step of the way. You were determined to die, rather than see anybody you love get hurt."

"So?" Elena crossed her arms, eyes blazing as she stared up at him. "I'd do it again. I'm not special, Damon. I'm not going to let anybody I care about die in my place."

"Except they did, didn't they?" he reminded her, mimicking her stance and crossing his arms as well. "Tyler and Caroline were waiting on the altar until I broke them out of their cage and it was Jules and Jenna who took their place. Now, I could give a fuck about Jules dying, but even if it hadn't been her, even if Klaus had found a werewolf and a vampire that none of us knew…that still would have been two people dead because you refused to fight and risk the lives of those that you loved. So, tell me again, Elena. How is that any different? Or are humans the only ones worth saving?"

Elena turned red, dropping her gaze and for a moment, Damon entertained the idea that he'd won this round. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she rallied, calmly speaking through the tears as she drew from her vast arsenal of painful barbs. "Stefan would have saved her. He would never have left that girl to die."

Shit, why did I engage? Damon groaned in frustration at the mention of his sainted brother. There would be no winning this argument now that Stefan had been dragged into it. Just like when they had been alive, Stefan could do no wrong. He was out there now, violently murdering girls who looked like Elena, and their roles were still the same. Turning away from her, he paced the small room. "I'm sure Stefan would have saved her. And during the split second he inevitably turned his back on Landis, you'd be dead. But, oh well, right? At least this random girl's friends and family would get her back," he said, eyes blazing as he returned to her. "The lives of half a dozen people you claim to care about would be changed forever. Jeremy would have to bury the last of his family, but hey, at least you could die with a clear conscience."

"Of course you'd turn Stefan's conscience into a weakness," she accused, meeting his gaze defiantly.

"It is a weakness," he hissed, clenching his teeth. "What has his conscience ever done for us except dig the hole deeper and increase the body count?"

"We should have at least tried, Damon" Elena replied stubbornly, her lower lip trembling. "Stefan would-."

Damon sneered, fed up with listening to how his brother would have saved the day. "Right now the only thing Stefan would have done is fight Landis for the right to rip that girl's heart out."

Elena started as if he'd dealt her a physical blow. Damon half expected her to take a swing at him in retaliation, but no matter how much he might have deserved it for the cheap shot, he wasn't letting her have one this time. "I told you, I will always choose you. If that means a hundred people die, so be it. Stefan has always been weak and the fact that he would let anything take him away from you just proves it."

"I wish he hadn't," Elena whispered, sinking to the mattress and covering her face with her hands as her shoulders began to shake with silent sobs.

Damon stared at the top of her head, feeling a coldness wash over him as he heard what she didn't dare speak aloud – that Stefan had made the wrong choice, that his life wasn't worth the price. He'd said it himself, more than once, but every time she'd challenged it, had told him he was wrong before he'd finished his sentence. He'd known she was only saying what she was supposed to say, yet he'd taken a small measure of comfort in the idea that even though she couldn't love him, she at least valued his life.

He'd been a fool.

"So do I," he said, backing away from her and heading for the door. The façade of the past few days crumbled around his shoulders. He'd forgotten the one basic truth of his existence. No matter what he did, what era he was in, he would never be Stefan.

Elena gasped, the tears in her voice as she called to him nearly shredding what was left of his heart. "Damon, wait-."

Damon didn't wait. Unable to bear another minute in the same room with the woman he was painfully in love with but couldn't have, he opened the door and walked out into the black night where he belonged.

Katherine perched on a barstool, sipping her second Cosmopolitan and surveying the Savannah nightlife. The place was crowded, every inch of the dance floor packed as writhing humans gyrated against each other in what passed for dancing in the 21st century. Not that Katherine had a problem with it. The bumping and grinding lacked the sophistication and propriety of the dances she'd learned as a young woman, but at least it was honest. Regardless of the choreography, at their core, dances had always been about attracting a member of the opposite sex and she found it refreshing that the patrons of this club made no attempt to hide that.

Smiling, she took another sip of her drink and turned away from the dance floor. A long mirror flanked by vibrantly hued bottles was set over the bar and allowed her to surreptitiously survey the club. Stefan was supposed to meet her here.

He was late.

Draining her glass, she'd no sooner set it down on the reflective surface of the highly polished bar when a new drink was put in front of her. She blinked at the pinkish concoction and raised a brow at the bartender.

"This one's on the house," he explained, almost sheepishly. Glancing down the length of the bar he tipped his head at the crowd of men three deep, all completely failing at their attempts to subtly gawk at her. "You're good for business."

Katherine grinned, but before she could accept the flattering offer, she felt an arm snake around her waist. Stefan scowled at the bartender, his fingers digging into her side. "She's also spoken for."

Years of playing different roles to stay alive had made Katherine an excellent poker player, so even though Stefan's possessiveness shocked her, she didn't show it. Leaning into him as if she did it every day, she placed a hand on his chest and gazed up into his eyes. "It's just a drink."

The bartender quickly retreated, leaving the fresh Cosmo in front of her. When he was out of earshot, Katherine curled her fingers around the lapel of Stefan's jacket and dropped the fawning girlfriend act. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Stefan replied, glancing furtively around the bar. The hand on her waist continued to grip her tighter as the muscles in his jaw ticked. For the first time I it occurred to her that a club – full of exposed flesh and pounding hearts – might not have been Stefan's meeting place of choice.

"We could go somewhere else," she suggested. While she enjoyed the free drinks and fawning attention of the patrons, she couldn't care less what happened to them. Still, a bloody massacre wasn't the best way to keep a low profile and stay off of Klaus's radar.

Stefan didn't answer her, snatching the drink instead and draining the glass in a single gulp. With effort, he focused on her, giving her a tight-lipped smile as he sat rigidly on the barstool next to her. "I said I'm fine."

Katherine knew he wasn't, but Stefan could make his own choices. She was stronger than him and if need be, could get him out of the club before he did too much damage and exposed them. Crossing her legs, she shifted in her seat. "How do you like Savannah?"

Stefan looked around the club, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "It's changed since the last time I was here."

"When was that," she laughed. "The '30s?"

"Something like that," he murmured, enthralled by the people, the humans. Katherine raised a brow, watching as his pupils dilated, turning black and devouring the whites of his eyes.

"Stefan, let's-."

He grabbed her arm, jerking her off the barstool before she could finish suggesting they leave. The dense crowd prevented him from speeding directly to the exit and giving away their other status, but more than one patron angrily shouted after them as they were pushed roughly out of the way.

Stefan didn't stop when he reached the entrance, rushing past the bouncer and onto the sidewalk. A long line of people gazed at them enviously as they waited to get inside the club. Ignoring them, he turned in the opposite direction, still dragging Katherine along by the arm. Amused and curious, she let him, assuming he was seeking refuge from the throng of live bodies and furiously beating hearts within the club. He ducked into the first alley he found, stopping near the entrance and letting her go.

"Better?" Katherine asked, crossing her arms and watching him pace. Stefan shook his head as he held his head in his hands.

"No, I…," he stopped, whirling around to face her. Abandoning all pretense of humanity, he grabbed her arms and pinned her against the rough brick wall of the alley. Katherine only had a moment to note, yet again, the difference in his strength and speed now that he was drinking human blood before he did the last thing she expected…

Stefan kissed her.

Her eyes widened in surprise at the sudden contact, arms dangling uselessly at her sides. For over a century, she'd fantasized about the moment she'd have Stefan back in her arms but she'd never expected it to happen like this. His hands found their way to her hair, delving into the thick curls as he held her in place. She remembered every kiss they'd ever shared and this was nothing like the awestruck fumblings of a boy who thought she was out of his league. Stefan's kiss was hungry, demanding she give him everything she had and Katherine did willingly. Closing her eyes, she sunk into the kiss, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and pulling him even tighter against her.

When they drew apart a lifetime later, Katherine's lips actually felt bruised. Stefan buried his face in her hair, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he confessed wickedly. "I've wanted to do that since I saw you in the cemetery."

Katherine smiled as she smoothed her hands up his chest and around his neck, seeking his mouth for another kiss. Savoring the taste of something she'd waited so long to get back, she dragged it out, committing each second to memory.

"Feel better now?" she asked, letting her head fall back against the brick wall. Her voice was breathless and airy and completely foreign to her ears. Stefan smirked as she traced his lips with her finger. "Next time I won't have you meet me in a club full of such easy pickings."

"I haven't fed since last night," he said, back in control, but still holding on to her tightly, like he was afraid she'd somehow disappear. "That probably didn't help either."

Katherine raised a brow as she stopped the sensual movement of her finger to clasp both her hands behind his neck. "And why is that? Tired of the human blood already?"

"No," he replied immediately, blinking as if the admission surprised him. Shaking his head, he repeated more forcefully. "No…but what if I was?"

She tilted her head. "That depends, I guess."

"On what?"

"On whether this sudden reunion of ours is only because you can't handle the hard stuff," she said, shrugging in an attempt to mask how much his answer mattered. She loved Stefan, but she'd lived a very long time and wasn't about to naively assume they would live happily ever after. If the blood was the only reason he was drawn to her, it would be better to know now.

"I can't answer that," Stefan confessed, the anguish and confusion that she'd witnessed the night before, gone. This was simple fact and she could take it or leave it. Studying her, he slid his hands down the sides of her body, his thumbs teasing the sides of her breasts before settling on her hips and pulling her tightly against him. "Is that a problem?"

Katherine grinned, reveling in the intimate contact that he'd initiated and decided she'd take what she could get…for now. "I suppose not. Human, animal, blood bag…I don't really care what you drink as long as it's what you want."

"Good. That's good," he replied, kissing her again and gently nipping at her bottom lip. "Because I need you do me a favor and go to Pennsylvania."

"Wait, what?" Katherine demanded, taken aback. "What the hell is in Pennsylvania?"

"Elijah," Stefan revealed. "And hopefully answers as to why Klaus wants you and someone named Liliana dead."

Damon sat on a tree stump in the shadows of the forest across the highway from the motel, scowling at the darkened window of the room he was sharing with Elena. Not long after he'd walked out on her, the light had gone off without Elena making the slightest attempt to track him down.

It was probably the most intelligent thing she'd done all night.

The motel was quiet, the diner and gas station deserted, leaving Damon with no outlet for his anger, no innocent humans to hunt and kill and use as a buffer between him and his thoughts. The Camaro sat like a sentry in front of the flimsy motel door, taunting him with the fact that even though he had the means to be anywhere else in the world, he couldn't take advantage.

He couldn't leave Elena.

Groaning, he ran his hand through his hair, wishing that he could hate her the way he hated Katherine. It should have been easy. Both women had chosen Stefan over him - would always choose Stefan over him - but no matter what Elena did or said, his loyalty kept him coming back for more. He was doomed to fall into the same traps over and over again, letting himself believe that their camaraderie meant she'd finally forgiven him for all the ways he'd hurt her and shattered her trust. Once again, reality came crashing in – there was no forgiveness. Elena hadn't forgotten, no matter what she'd promised to a dying man.

Lashing out in a sudden burst of rage, Damon swung at the living tree next to him, splintering the trunk. For over a century, he'd embraced who he was – what he was – and had thrived on the respect and admiration of his kind. He'd been good at being a vampire. The human Damon Salvatore, the second best son, had faded into a barely remembered nightmare. A few months in Mystic Falls and he was right back to where he'd started, worse this time because everything was more intense. Rose had been right about that humanity switch, only Damon didn't blame time for its destruction, he blamed Elena. She'd gotten under his skin when he wasn't looking and found his humanity, attaching herself to it until she was an irrevocable part of him.

And through it all, he loved her. Beyond hope, beyond reason, beyond the fact that she would always choose someone else over him. If anything, her consistency, her loyalty made him love her more. The night he had nearly died, Damon thought he'd accepted the futility of his feelings for her. He'd thought that by choosing honesty in a moment of vulnerability, he'd be free of the jealousy and anguish. He knew now there was no freedom from this love…this emotion that ate away at his self-control and threatened to render him just as unhinged as his brother.

It will always be Stefan.

"Fuck, how does he do this?" Damon muttered aloud. How did his brother brood like this and not go freaking insane? Stefan had devoted decades to self-loathing and introspection. Damon had only been at it for a small fraction of his existence and he was ready to fall on a stake.

Jesus. His life sucked.

A shrill ringing emanated from his back pocket and cursing, Damon retrieved his cell phone and stared at the caller ID. A useless Unknown flashed at him in time to the tone as he considered tossing it into the trees…for spite. The utter ridiculousness of the idea and the temptation of a momentary respite from his all-consuming anger won out.

Damon sighed, punching a button. "Yeah?"

"Hello, Damon," a silky smooth voice replied, sliding across his skin and making him shudder.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he muttered, fighting either a scream of rage or hysterical laughter at the irony. "This better be good."

"Wow," Katherine replied dryly. "That's quite the greeting, Damon. A girl might take offense."

"I don't care how you take it," he replied, sneering into the phone even though she couldn't see him. "What do you want?"

"I know where your brother is," she teased in a singsong voice.

"He's in Savannah," Damon snapped. "You're a day late and a few dollars short."

"Last I checked, I saved your life," Katherine retorted, dropping the coy act. "A little gratitude would be appreciated."

"What makes you think I'm grateful?" Damon shot back, before instantly regretting the open invitation to pry into his life. Hastily, he tried to get back on track. "I don't have time for games, Katherine. We're leaving soon and -."

"We? Who's we?" Katherine asked, latching onto the slip like a dog with a bone. "Who's your travel buddy, Damon? Are you and Alaric Saltzman taking your bromance on the road?"

"Can we get back to the point?"

"No, it can't be him. You two would be having way too much fun getting wasted and swapping stories about the women – excuse me, woman – you shared to be this pissed off," Katherine fell silent for a split second as Damon imagined reaching through the phone and strangling her. Suddenly, she gasped. "You're with Elena."

"Katherine-."

"Don't deny it," she said, laughing delightedly. "I know it's her. Nobody gets under your skin like Elena."

"Are you done?" he demanded, wondering vaguely why he didn't just hang up on her.

I'm goddamn a masochist, that's why.

"I wonder what Stefan would say," she mused. "You haven't asked me about him, Damon. Or are you too busy trying to get into his girlfriend's pants to care?"

"I'm hanging up now."

"Oh, lighten up, I was just getting to it," she grumbled, dropping the witty banter. Damon ground his teeth together as he listened to her overdramatic sigh. "Stefan's in Savannah with Klaus, but apparently you already know this, so I'll get to the part you don't know. Klaus is planning another ritual and is using Stefan like bait to lure me in. He needs me. I'm on my way to Pennsylvania to get Elijah because Stefan thinks he can help stop it."

"Right, because Elijah totally helped us out the last time," Damon muttered, rolling his eyes. This was all he needed, Katherine and the Originals reinserting themselves into this mess. "What does this have to do with me?"

"Everything. You need to get to Savannah and get Stefan away from Klaus," Katherine insisted urgently. "He's too…unpredictable right now to play double agent with an Original. Klaus will see right through it and kill him," she paused before adding slyly. " Of course, that's assuming you still want to save him, of course."

"Tyler and Caroline killed a couple of vamps in Pennsylvania who said they were guarding a warehouse on Klaus's orders. Could be Elijah," he suggested, ignoring Katherine's attempt to rankle him about Elena. He noted the tree he'd nearly toppled was leaning dangerously close to a power line as he paced in the underbrush. Abruptly he came to a halt as a new thought occurred to him. "How much time have you been spending with Stefan, anyway?"

Katherine didn't reply right away and Damon wished he could see the expression on her face. After a moment, she said crisply. "No more than you've been spending with Elena."

"Are you trying to help my brother or make him more insane?"

"Maybe I'm doing both."

"Katherine, I swear to God-."

"Goodbye, Damon," she said briskly, ending the call before he could object. Not that he would have. His brain couldn't take much more of Katherine's double talk. Pocketing his cell phone thoughtfully, Damon walked back across the highway toward the motel. At least the conversation hadn't been a complete waste. His anger and frustration had subsided to a manageable roar, allowing him to focus on the fact that they now knew Klaus's plan and for once the key ingredient wasn't Elena Gilbert.

"Maybe I'll keep you alive yet, Elena," Damon muttered, opening the door and bracing himself to face her again. Falling on that stake was starting to sound like the best idea he'd had all day.