Getting closer to learning more about Elena's past :) Enjoy!

ELENA

The Salvatore's property is beautiful.

The giant house with its log cabin vibes, the rose bushes surrounding the porch, the worn in drive and skyline of trees...even the giant building off to the right, that Damon had said is the Brotherhood's clubhouse, doesn't seem out of place.

There is a large expansion of yard between the residential house and the clubhouse, and that is where the others are waiting for us.

Enzo has a case of beer in his hand, and Bonnie is tapping her foot, "Bout time!"

"Sorry. Mom wanted to know about what happened with Kai," Damon explains, grabbing the beer from Enzo, "Full case?"

"You need more than that?"

Damon shakes his head, "Nah, I'm only having one. I still have to drive Elena home later...and unless Bonnie is crashing here, you probably shouldn't drink yourself drunk either."

"Fair point," he admits, as we start toward the towering outline of pine trees.

The walk is a short one, and no sooner than the yard disappears behind us, a formation takes shape ahead.

When we are close enough, I take in the structure.

It is indeed a Tree House.

A very, very large Tree House that expands across two different trees and appears older than me.

Its nestled on thick branches that have began to grow into the wood, and there are beams nailed into the base of the tree, clearly meant for climbing up.

"Wow," I breath and Damon smiles next to me, "Incredible, huh?"

"It's something," I agree, having to lean my head all the way back to take it all in, "Did your parents build this?"

"Grandparents," he corrects, moving toward the beams, "My Dad and Uncle Zack played here when they were younger, too."

He sits the beer down on the ground and steps onto the first plank.

He does a little jump and shake, "Seems solid."

A few more steps up, testing each one as he moves, until he's stepping onto the little makeshift porch of the treehouse.

"Throwing down the rope," he calls, "Hook the case onto it."

Enzo did as he said once the rope was unfurrowed, and it works like a pulley to raise the beer to the tree house.

"Ladies first," Enzo announces, once Damon has the beer, motioning toward the steps.

Bonnie doesn't hesitate, obviously having done this before, and climbs up the tree without difficulty.

I follow in suit, refusing to look down until I have my feet firmly planted on the porch of the tree house.

It's sturdier than I first expected and Damon grins at me, "See, not too bad."

I shake my head, "This is crazy."

"Wait until you see the inside."

He leads me to the entrance as Lexi starts up the tree, and I have to duck a little at the door.

The inside of the tree house is just as big as the outside.

A single room with two windows carved out, and years of knickknacks and pieces of random stuff littering the corners.

There is a small table, now holding the beer and a deck of cards, a few chairs, and even a corner that has a small cot mattress and a pile of blankets.

There's a telescope folded against one wall, and some board games piled against another.

It looks like every kid's wet dream.

"What do you think?" Damon asks, coming to stand next to me.

"That I can believe you grew up playing here," I answer honestly, "I'm jealous."

He chuckles as the others pile in.

The place does start to get a bit crowded, now that we are all inside, but not uncomfortably so.

"Toss me a blanket," Bonnie tells Tyler, "I don't want to sit on the floor.

"You don't have to," Enzo tell her, taking a seat and yanking her into his lap, "Got this spot reserved for you right here, baby."

Bonnie feigns annoyance, but doesn't try to move, and I smile at their exchange.

"Oh, Elena has to sign the wall!" Stefan says, and a murmur of agreement comes from the others.

"Sign the what?" I ask, and Damon takes my hand, walking me around the others, to a wall near the furthest window.

Sure enough, there are a list of names there, carved into the wood.

Some seem fresh, newer, and some are very old.

I recognize a few of them.

Giuseppe Salvatore

Zach Salvatore

Lillian Wersching, who I assume is now Lily Salvatore.

Damon Salvatore

Stefan Salvatore

Everyone currently in the room, and some others, including Rose and Caroline.

I reach out and touch the names.

"What is this? Some kind of Tree House register?" I tease, glancing at Damon.

He nods, and pulls a out a pocket knife, "Something like that. It's friends and family who have been up here. Everyone adds their name."

He offers the knife to me and I take it.

Of all the things to remember about that afternoon, Damon's hand closing around mine, guiding the blade into the wood as I felt him press against my backside, is what stands out the most.

Hours later, when I'm back home and in bed, that is what I'm thinking about.

Not how Bonnie, Lexi, and I won our team poker game against the boys.

Not how Stefan and Tyler had a chugging contest, ending up with us all getting sprayed a little.

Not even how nice of a ride it was with the sun fading and Damon's jacket warm around me.

No...what I remember is the warmth of Damon's chest pressing into my shoulder blades, the muscles of his arms flexing as we worked the knife through the wood, and finished carving my name.

It looked so perfect there, among all the others.

Like I was a part of something bigger.

Like I belonged.

Mostly though, I recall the moment after, when I looked up into Damon's blue eyes, and for half a second, thought he might kiss me.

His gaze had trailed to my lips, as if he wanted to, and I wouldn't have stopped him.

But instead, he'd smiled, and turned to the others, showing off our handy work.

I'd given a mock bow and we'd laughed it off.

Now, laying in the dark of my bedroom, I wonder what might have happened if Damon and I had been alone.

If he had kissed me.

It would have been spectacular, of that I have no doubt, but perhaps that was exactly why it was a good thing that nothing happened.

I have enough going on in my life without adding feelings into the mixture.

Especially warm fuzzy feelings for a guy with a conquest list longer than the names in the Tree House.

But even knowing that, I can't help but feel...regret.

I wanted Damon to kiss me. In that moment, I truly did.

And the more thought I give to the idea, the more I realize that maybe it is something that I still want.

Apparently Rose was right; I'm determined to learn the hard way.

I push the thought away and try to get some sleep; only to be awoken some time later by the shrill ringing of my phone.

I roll over, see my Dad's number, and answer it.

Monday starts my second week at Mystic Falls High, and I show up to school half awake and feeling like a trainwreck after a restless night.

My dad had called after I'd only been asleep for an hour, just to bitch about my refusal to accept any money he might feel obligated to send.

Apparently Mom had told him about our last conversation, but I didn't care.

My mind was made up and he wasn't about to change it.

We got into a semi heated debate, and I hadn't been able to sleep afterwards.

Then when I did finally pass out, there wasn't much rest involved.

Miranda had been nice enough not to comment on my appearance when I came downstairs, but Damon, who has taken to walking me to homeroom each morning, doesn't bother extending the same curtsey.

"Damn, new girl," his eyes trail from my messy bun, to my wrinkled T-shirt, down to my sweatpants, "You look rough."

Thanks," I mutter, moving around him to open my locker and flinch at the loud banging as the door hits the locker next to me.

"Everything okay?" he sounds genuinely concerned, which is the only reason I don't snap at him.

Nightmares of Kol and the Kings had plagued my mind all night, and I was running on about three hours of actual sleep, none of it consecutive.

And that damn buzzing was back in my head, the noise making it hard to focus.

"Bad dreams," I summarize, "Didn't sleep much."

Damon frowns, "Want to talk about it?"

I glare up at him and he chuckles, "Alright, change of topic then."

He pulls a piece of paper from his pocket, "Mom gave me your schedule for this week. Find out what days you'll need a ride and let me know?"

I nod, closing my locker and taking the page from him as we start down the hall.

Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday afternoon are on the list, and I slow, "I'm not working Friday?"

Damon shakes his head, "No, we're having a club thing, so Mom's assistant manager will be running the restaurant. Andie will be there to help out, and...I think Mom wanted you to have the option of coming over."

My brows furrow, "To your house? For the club thing?"

He nods, though I don't miss how he avoids my gaze, "Yeah, every couple weekends we have a party at the clubhouse with all the members; some family and friends. Everyone under eighteen usually leaves by nine, but sometimes the rules can be bent and you're close enough to that age anyway that I doubt anyone will have a problem with you being there."

I laugh to myself and now Damon does look at me, "What?"

I fight for composure, "You don't think my Aunt or Uncle might have a problem with me being at an MC party after nine on a Friday night?"

He opens his mouth, then closes it, and frowns.

The idea really hadn't occurred to him.

I sigh as we reach my homeroom class, "How many strippers are going to be there?"

If my question surprises him, he doesn't show it, "None hired, but there's no telling how many women will drink too much and try to dance topless on the bar."

"Prostitutes?"

"Jesus," he chuckles quietly, "Look babe, that's not how we do things. The most illegal thing you're gonna find in the Brotherhood is some supervised underage drinking, okay?"

The recent conversation with my father is still playing in my head, making me weary that Damon might not be telling the truth, but then again, he hasn't lied to me so far.

And everything I've seen pertaining to the Brotherhood has seemed legit; even Uncle Grayson has supported my growing friendships with BCMC affiliates.

And since he knows what a real outlaw club looks like, I can trust his assessment.

"Maybe they'll let you come by for a little while?" Damon suggests, "I'm sure Mom would be willing to talk to Miranda, take responsibility for-"

I shake my head, "No, it's okay. I don't want to put Lily on the spot like that."

He crooks his head as I try to get my tired brain to function, "I can tell them I'm staying with Caroline or Bonnie."

A slow smile crosses Damon's lips, "You're going to lie? And here I was starting to think you were a good girl."

I respond with as much of a smirk as I can muster, "Well, keep it to yourself. I have a reputation to uphold."

"Pretty sure you shattered that by getting detention on your first day," he reminds me.

I sigh, thinking that he's probably right.

"Whatever."

A bell rings then, and Damon glances to the door behind me.

"I should go," I exhale slowly, not excited at all about the prospect of tests and homework or having to function like a semi normal human being.

Damon smiles softly, and steps forward, pulling me into his arms.

As he hugs me, I bury my nose against his chest and breathe.

He smells good, like his jacket always does, and the noise in my head eases.

"I'll see you soon," he says, and for the briefest moment, I feel his lips press against my temple.

When I pull away to look up, those blue eyes are stormy, and my mouth feels dry.

"Get to class," he reminds me with another gentle smirk, and this time returning the smile is a little easier.

"See you later."

"Yeah, later."

I get to my desk just before the final bell rings, and as I put my backpack down, I can't help but wonder if Damon is always running late to his class.

Or maybe his teacher doesn't care.

I try to recall if I even know who he has for homeroom, when I realize my mind is wandering.

Sleep depravity and me do not get along well.

"There you are," Caroline whispers to me when I sit and Bonnie moves her desk slightly closer to mine.

"You look like shit," she tucks a strand of dark hair behind her ears, "Are you okay?"

I laugh quietly to myself and lay my head down on my backpack, "Bad dreams. No sleep."

They share a look of concern, but luckily don't press the topic any further and I let my eyes close.

Maybe I can catch a brief nap before the day really starts.

"Go ahead," Bonnie tells me, and I realize that I had spoken out loud, "We'll nudge you awake if Mrs. Davis says anything."

I smile at her, "Thanks."

But before I can drift off, I'm reminded of what Damon told me outside in the hall.

"Are either of you going to the Brotherhood party on Friday?"

"Yes," they both answer, and I feel relieved, "Good. I need an alibi for my Aunt and Uncle."

"Tell them you're staying with me," Caroline immediately jumps in, "My mom has an overnight shift at the station. She'll agree to letting you sleep over, will vouch to your Aunt, and we'll leave for the party after she's gone to work. She'll never even know we left the house."

I nod a little, "Works for me. I'll talk to Miranda after you get the okay from your mom."

Caroline smiles and pulls out her cellphone, "I'll ask her right now."

My eyes close again as she texts, and I do manage to snooze a little before class is over and the loud bell jerks me awake.

I stay half conscious through Art and Pre-Cal, with both Enzo and Bonnie taking extra notes for me.

I'm grateful for them, really, but not as grateful as I am when Damon drapes his jacket over me in History and whispers, "Take a nap. Ric won't care."

I throw a quick glance up at Alaric, aka, Mr. Saltzman. Brotherhood member, pool player, fight stopper, and high school teacher.

He winks at me as the rest of the class files in, finding desks and chatting.

I almost relax, but then Kai Parker walks through the door.

Shit. I forgot his suspension only lasted until Friday.

He glares over at me, or maybe it's Damon he's giving the stink eye to, but either way, Mr. Saltzman clears his throat in warning, and Kai takes a seat on the opposite side of the room.

"Don't worry about him," Damon murmurs to me, "Just get some sleep, Elena."

He hardly ever uses my name, and the sound of it coming from his lips warms me more than the leather I'm wrapped in.

I sigh deeply and curl up in Damon's jacket for a solid forty-five minutes of uninterrupted rest.

When History is over and Mr. Saltzman dismisses us, I feel a hint more functional.

"I'm keeping the jacket til lunch," I warn Damon as we stand, not wanting to part with its warmth just yet.

Thankfully Kai has already left, and I can avoid that confrontation.

Damon smiles, "Go ahead. I won't need it before then."

He walks me to Computer Lab and I don't see him again until lunch, which we spend at school for the first time, choosing a picnic table across the courtyard, underneath a looming pine.

Stefan and Lexi join us too, and I can't help but notice the way the younger Salvatore stares at Caroline, who is sitting on top of the table, making goo goo eyes at Tyler.

Or the way that Lexi watches him watch Caroline watch Tyler.

Or maybe I'm still tired and reading too much into everything.

Yeah, that's probably it.

"How's the zombie doing?" Enzo asks when Damon and I join them, and I stick my tongue out at him.

"Still in a bright mood, I see."

Damon shoots him a glare, "Back off, man. She's tired."

I give him an appreciative smile, before sitting across from Bonnie at the table.

Damon sits next to me.

"Oh," Caroline spins around, "Mom said yes, if your Aunt is cool with it."

I nod and Damon glances between us, "Yes to what?"

"I'm gonna try to stay with Caroline on Friday," I explain to him, "Her mom works all night, so we can come to the party."

"Figured you might have a better chance of your Aunt agreeing to let you stay at the sheriff's house?" Damon grins, and I shrug, "Worth a try."

The others carry on the conversation around me while snacking on whatever was brought to eat, and I try to rest my head in my hands.

When the wooden table proves to be too uncomfortable against my elbows, I take off the leather jacket, re-adjust it in front of me and try again.

Damon, noticing what I'm attempting to do, turns to straddle the bench and places a hand on my shoulder to pull me back against his body.

I let my weight fall into him, my head finding the crook of his neck instinctively, and his heartbeat is a gentle thrum against my ear, drowning out everything but the sound of his breathing.

He moves with care, grabbing the jacket to spread it out over my front, blanketing me between it and his body.

I close my eyes, never wanting to move from this spot, because while laying here, surrounded by Damon's scent, I can push all the bad dreams away.

The memories disappear and my head is finally silent.

I snuggle further into his chest and stay there, wrapped up in that heavenly warmth, until the end of lunch.

When the bell rings, Damon shakes me gently, reminding me that we have a Chemistry class to get to.

I yawn and stretch, before letting him pull me from the table and up to my feet.

As soon as we walk through the door of Mr. Stanton's Chem lab, I know I'm not going to get to sleep this class away.

I follow Damon to the back lab table we usually occupy, and observe the beakers waiting for us.

"This must be that experiment he was telling us about about Friday," Damon muses, and I remain silent, because Friday I'd been too busy watching Damon chew on the end of his pencil to really focus on anything the teacher had told us.

Mr. Stanton walks in shortly after the bell rings, and immediately begins giving out instructions.

"Everyone needs to pair up. One of you grab a some safety goggles and gloves, the other needs to fill up the three beakers in front of you a third of the way with water," he says as he starts to place plastic knives on the tables.

Damon looks at me, "You get the water, I'll get the safety gear."

I nod, since there is a sink at each table, and the idea of not having to move very far sounds appealing.

When the beakers are filled and Damon returns with the goggles and gloves, we wait for the next instruction.

Mr. Stanton writes the ingredients we will need on the board; Potassium thiocyanate, Iron chloride (III), and 1 Cotton ball.

Followed by a list of instructions.

Apparently we are to make a fake "chemical cut" by mixing the Potassium thiocyanate into one beaker, and the Iron chloride into the other.

"Good," Mr. Stanton observes the class as we follow orders, "Now, whoever is not wearing the gloves," which would be me, "Is going to use the cotton ball to apply the mixed Potassium thiocyanate to their palm."

I do as he says, rubbing the clear liquid onto my skin as Damon reads the board and places the plastic knife in the Iron chloride solution, which is a pale brown color.

"Alright," Damon takes my hand into his, "Now we see if it works."

I roll my eyes, just ready to have this day over with, when he picks up the plastic knife and runs it gently across my hand with the blunt side.

The experiment works.

The combinations of the chemicals form a red streak across my palm, and the liquid runs until my hand is dripping.

"Whoops," Damon stops, "Used too much. That's pretty cool, though."

I don't answer him.

I can't.

Because as I stare at my hand, I am no longer in the Chem lab.

I am hundreds of miles away, holding a dying body, screaming at the top of my lungs as sobs and fear tried to choke me.

White hot tears run down my face and the blood is everywhere; all over me.

My hands are stained with it.

He's dead. He's dead and I killed him and he's bleeding everywhere.

So much blood.

I'm crying.

I'm screaming.

And I'm relieved...I'm relieved because he's dead and I'm not.

The feeling makes me want to vomit.

"Elena?! Elena!" someone is calling me and it sounds like it's coming from a long tunnel.

It takes a moment for my eyes to register what I'm seeing.

Damon in front of me. Mr. Stanton at my side. Everyone staring at us.

It's then that I realize that I really am crying.

I really did scream out.

"Elena?" Damon's expression is full of concern, his muscles tight with shock, and I can't force my mouth to offer him any reassurance.

I have none to give.

Everyone is staring.

Clenching my hand into a fist, I turn and run out of the room.

Running.

Now that, I can do.

Side note: I looked up this science experiment on youtube. Idk if it really works, but probably shouldn't try it at home for safety reason lol

Anyway, hope you enjoyed! Next chapter will pick up here in Damon's POV!