Emotions

Installment 12: Emotionless

Description: Elena has her emotions turned off, and Damon and Stefan are trying to bring her back. When Elena comes around looking for some pleasure, Damon thinks he might be able to kill two birds with one stone.

Context: Season 4 fic.

Rating: M for mature language and smut.

I messed up. Big time.

It seemed like a good idea at first; after all, Elena was suffering and flipping the switch was always temporary among vampires. I also thought that I could easily bring her back by using the sire bond, but, I was wrong.

Big shock.

It's painful, seeing Elena like this. She's not the girl that I fell in love with—she resembles Katherine, and the worst part is that everyone thinks I like her better like this. Stefan keeps making snide comments to me about how I "turned Elena into this on purpose."

And he tells me that I make no sense? I've always loved Elena for the way that she is, or I guess, was: her smile, her heart, her joy. God dammit, I miss watching her chocolate brown eyes swirl with emotions, even if those emotions were bad. Now, whenever I look into her eyes, it's like watching stones; they're unmoving, cold, empty. It stings my heart and every day I regret robbing her of her humanity.

Stefan just stormed off upstairs in a hissy. He's been especially sensitive recently and my joke about him being a murderer apparently pushed a button. Oh well, I'll give him a few minutes to journal and cry and he'll go right back to his normal brooding self.

I fix myself a glass of bourbon and sit down on the couch, carelessly kicking my feet up on the coffee table. Tonight is gonna be a long night. I close my eyes and exhale, trying to calm down and push out all thoughts of Elena. I'm sick of being ridden with guilt for what I did; I'll just try not to think of her.

"Well, hello there, just who I was looking for," a voice sounds from directly in front of me.

My eyes pop open and I groan in annoyance the second my eyes fall on her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I ask. My eyes scan up her body—she's wearing tight black yoga pants with a tight black tank top and a studded leather jacket. Her red stilettos make her long legs seem even longer. Her hair falls around her shoulders in waves of brown and she's wearing red lipstick dark enough to kill, and damn me if she doesn't look absolutely fuckable. I feel myself growing in my jeans and adjust my position to hide it; I wouldn't give her that satisfaction.

"I'm bored," Elena complains. She moves to the fireplace and leans against the wall, staring into the flames.

"Tough shit," I say. A little chuckle escapes her lips; it sounds dark and it terrifies me. This is not Elena Gilbert—this must be Katherine Pierce.

"Remember the last time we had a little 'talk' by this fireplace, Damon?" she asks, turning to face me. Her eyes gleam with wickedness, but they're still cold…so damn cold. I raise my eyebrows at her and take a swig of bourbon, trying to look disinterested. She flashes me a devilish smile and takes a few steps towards me, swaying her hips more than usual. "I guess 'talk' is the wrong word for it. I suppose it was more of a fuck."

I groan, feeling my jeans press up against me uncomfortably. The bitch is good…she's really good.

"What do you want, Elena?" I ask, raising my glass to my lips.

"Isn't it obvious?" she responds, sitting next to me on the couch. "I want you to fuck me again, Damon."

I lower the glass slowly, somewhat caught off guard by her request.

"What?" I ask.

"Oh, c'mon Damon, don't tell me you've never thought about fucking me like this."

"I actually haven't," I lie.

"Mhm," she says with disbelief. She scoots closer to me on the couch and places her lips right by my ear. "So you've never thought of how I would fuck when I don't have any bullshit emotional ties? How rough it would be? How primal?" she purrs and my jeans tighten. I unconsciously growl low in my throat.

"Don't do it," a voice sounds from the doorway. Elena sighs in annoyance and falls back to the couch. I look over my shoulder to find Stefan glaring at me.

Just fucking great.

"Wasn't planning on it, brother," I say, turning back towards the fireplace. "Do you honestly have that little trust in me?"

"You'd be taking advantage—."

"Oh, c'mon Stefan, don't take out your jealousy on Damon," Elena interrupts, standing up and turning on Stefan with an expression that could kill. She looks so damn indifferent, uninterested. "It's nothing personal—Damon's just a little better in bed."

I raise my eyebrows at her. Damn, she really has become a stone cold bitch.

"Damon," Stefan says, dismissing Elena's commentary.

"Yes?" I ask, turning to face him.

"Come," he says, gesturing for me to follow him and he turns around, walking down the hallway. I roll my eyes and stand up. I turn to Elena and glare at her for a second.

"Stay," I demand, pointing to the ground like she was a dog. Elena narrows her eyes at me, but doesn't move. I catch up with Stefan by the front door. "You know I wasn't going to—."

"Actually, I think maybe you should," Stefan whispers. I raise my eyebrows at him in shock and furrow my brow.

"What changed your mind, brother?" I ask with only a slight hint of sarcasm.

"Sex is…um, an emotional act," Stefan says, sounding almost like a skittish 12-year-old who still thought 'sex' was a dirty word.

"Maybe for you, but not for her," I argue.

"It could be," he whispers.

"No, it can't," I insist, "not with me at least."

Stefan stares at me in silence for a second.

"Are you honestly going to tell me that your night with Elena after the Miss Mystic Falls Pageant was completely devoid of emotion?" Stefan asks. I look down at the ground momentarily.

"We both know the only reason that happened was because of the sire bond," I admit, even though it's painful to say. Stefan looks at me with what-almost-looks-like sympathy and for a second, I forget that he and I have been feuding for decades…he is still my baby brother.

"She's wanted you for a long time, Damon, and she wants you now. Maybe it was the sire bond that led her to sleeping with you, but that doesn't mean that she didn't have feelings for you. She's always had some feelings for you. I've always seen it," Stefan says. I stand in silence for a minute, letting his words sink in.

Stefan actually wanted me to sleep with Elena. It was a Hail Mary, but fuck it, it's all we've got.

"Okay, I'll do it," I say.

"Okay. Excuse me if I don't want to be in the house during," Stefan says, turning around and opening the front door. He looks back at me over his shoulder and says, "Good luck," before shutting the door behind him.

"Well," her vixen voice sounds from behind me. I turn around to find her leaning against the wall with her arms crossed haughtily. She flashes me a wicked smirk. "Looks like we've got ourselves a fun night planned."

I don't respond. Instead, I prowl towards her seductively. If she wants seduction, I'd give her seduction. When I reach her, I place my hands on her hips and lean in for a kiss, but she stops me by raising one red-painted long fingernail to my lips. I narrow my eyes at her.

"I don't want to make love, Damon," she insists. "I want it rough, okay?"

"I'm not one to say no to some rough sex," I whisper. I lean in for a kiss again and this time, she doesn't stop me.

God, she tastes just as heavenly as I remembered. I close my eyes and let myself melt into her kiss. But, something's different. Her lips aren't as eagerly returning my kiss as they used to. I mean, she's into it, but she seems almost disinterested.

She pulls away from the kiss.

"Stop kissing me like I'm your girlfriend, Damon," she says. I groan internally. "Kiss me like you hate me."

"I can't hate you," I whisper.

"Even if I tell you that you've never been anything more to me than a nice body to fuck then toss when I'm ready to go back to your brother?" she responds.

That does it. I can't hate her, but I sure-as-hell can be pissed at her.

I growl predatorily and tighten my grip on her waist, spinning her around until her back slams with the wall. She reaches forward and places her hands on my shoulders, but I grab them and pin them to the wall. She watches me lustfully and I tighten my grip on her wrists.

I know that she only said what she said to pull a reaction from me, but I don't care. I'm pissed, and if she wants rough, I'd give her rough.

I adjust so I'm holding both her hands in only one of my hands. I grab the front of her tank top with my free hand and yank back, ripping the black fabric off her skin.

"I liked that shirt," she whispers breathlessly.

"I don't care," I respond. I reach my head down and bite the bridge of her bra. I rip it with my teeth, leaving her top completely bare to me. Her chest is heaving and God, she looks so delectable.

I reach down and hook my thumbs into the waistline of her pants and panties. I pull down her skin tight leggings and lacey thong without any hesitation. She kicks them off her ankles and wraps her long legs around my waist. I reach down and unzip and unbutton my jeans, pulling them down around my hips, freeing myself. I'm harder than I thought I was.

I position myself at her entrance and push in without any warning. She arches her back and moans. God, I love her moans—I've missed them. She feels so nice and tight around me. I feel sparks crawl across my skin.

I start thrusting my hips up hard and quickly. I bury my nose in her hair, unable to look into her dead eyes (talk about a major turn off.) She's screaming her pleasure and I think for a second, isn't pleasure an emotion? But then I remember that pleasure for her is nothing but physical. I pick up my pace at the realization, trying to take out some of my pent up frustration.

Her body is rocking and the skin on her back is being gripped by the bricks of the wall. The rough bricks must have torn her skin because I can smell her blood; it only fuels me. I tighten my grip on her wrists and growl as I move in her tight wetness. She feels great, but it's not the same.

"I'm close," Elena moans and I grit my teeth. I'm right there with her, but I want her to cum first. I suck her nipple into my mouth and gently nibble on it. She screams as she comes—the walls of her pussy milking me and I follow her quickly, tumbling into a haze of bliss.

This is usually the part where we hold each other. She usually lets out a little giggle that sounds so damn innocent (which is ironic considering what we just did.) She usually collapses against my chest and gently traces the outline of my abs with feather light fingertips.

I wonder if the plan worked. I wonder if fucking her had brought her back. But, that wonder is quickly wiped away as she untangles herself from under me and mindlessly starts collecting her clothes from the ground. I watch her in silence. She stands back up and her eyes are still cold. Hurt reaches my heart and I wish for a second that I was also emotionless just so I wouldn't have to feel the pain of her loss.

She walks over to me and grabs the front of my black shirt. She starts undoing my buttons and I furrow my brow at her.

"You owe me a shirt," she answers the question that I never even asked.

"You still have clothes in Stefan's room," I respond. "Get one of your own shirts."

"Nah," she says, peeling the shirt off my shoulders. She puts it on and walks to the door. She looks back at me and bats her long black eyelashes. "Thanks bad boy," she says before leaving the house.

I look back at the wall where I fucked her—her blood stains it. I stare at it blankly for a while, wondering what to do with it. I decide not to do anything. After all, Elena's not the only one who can not care. The only difference is that she's not pretending.

The next night she comes back to me. I wasn't expecting it, but I wasn't complaining. This time I fuck her for my sake, not hers, not my brother's. I fuck her because I'm angry and bored and lonely. She wants it rough again and I fulfill her wants. Part of me still hopes that sex will bring back her emotions; a bigger part of me knows that's unlikely. But then, she kisses me on that sweet spot on my jaw right below my earlobe that only she knows about and I think for a second that maybe she's come back to me. But when I pull back and look into her eyes, all I see is the wall that she put up when she flipped her switch. She's still gone.

This same shit happens for weeks. I don't know why I keep letting her in, maybe because the thought of her going to someone else for pleasure tortures me more than letting her use me. Stefan's pissed about it. He tells me that this has moved beyond a one-time Hail Mary and that I'm taking advantage of her. He has no idea how hard it is for me.

It's the same every time. She slips into my bedroom and strips down to nothing and begs me to make it rough and I do. We finish and she steals a piece of my clothing (a shirt, boxers, or sweats; it depends on whatever I've destroyed of hers.) She flashes me a wicked smile that doesn't reach her eyes and leaves. She's stopped thanking me, not like it was ever genuine.

But, tonight it's different. I'm making it different. I'm lying in bed, waiting for her. She slips in through my window and I look at my clock.

10:20pm, almost like clockwork.

I hear her start to strip and I turn around to look at her. The moon illuminates her skin as she tosses her clothes to the corner of the room. She stares at me and cocks her head to the side. She knows that something's different because usually by this time I've got her pinned somewhere and am devouring her.

"I know that you don't have any feelings," I say, standing up and walking towards her. I'm already naked.

"Damon—."

"Shh," I whisper. I reach her and grab her hand, entwining our fingers. "I know that you don't have any feelings for me, but I have feelings for you." I gently tug on her hand, pulling her towards my bed. She follows hesitantly. I internally sigh in relief—I didn't think I would get this far. "I love you, Elena," I whisper, gently pushing her onto my bed and crawling on top of her. I stop when my body is fully blanketing hers. I stare into her eyes—they're watching me with curiosity, but they're still dull, closed off. I choke down my pain. I lift my hand, brushing a strand of her soft brown hair of her face. She furrows her brow and I kiss the lines on her forehead. "I love you and I want to show you just how much."

She opens her mouth to respond, but I cut her off with a kiss. At first, her lips are hard, unmoving, but then she melts into the kiss and opens her mouth. Our tongues tangle together slowly and sweetly. I taste every part of her mouth, feel every curve of her body, and smell the lavender of her shampoo.

At first, she lies still, but then, her body relaxes and she runs her hand down my bicep. When she reaches my hand, she entwines our fingers and strokes the inside of my palm with her thumb. Everything feels warm, right. She entwines her other hand in my hair and holds me close to her.

She hikes her leg up and around my waist. I position myself at her entrance. I break the kiss and look into her eyes.

Still cold. Fuck. But, I can't stop now.

She gives me a little nod and I push into her, filling her completely. She whimpers and closes her eyes.

"No," I whisper. Her eyes pop open. "Watch me."

We don't break eye contact as I slowly move in her. She whimpers and moans with each thrust; I occasionally grunt in pleasure. She feels so damn good around my cock.

I pick up pace a bit and she moans louder. I feel her walls tighten.

"I'm—."

"I know," I grunt, speeding up my thrusts. I drop my head to her neck and pepper kisses across her clavicle. I hover my mouth above her ear. "I love you," I whisper. "I love you so much."

"Damon…" she moans. Elena moaning my name continues to be the only time I've ever really loved my name. She cherishes it like a gem and I know I don't deserve it.

"I love you," I repeat. I have to remind her. I have to remind her that even with all the pain in her life, she still has my love. She'll always have my love, even if she never turns her emotions back on.

I continue to thrust, going faster and deeper with each pump of my hips. She's so close; I need her to see me when she comes.

I lift my head and lock cobalt blue with chocolate brown. There's still indifference in her eyes, but I'm learning to not care.

"I love you, Elena, no matter who you are," I whisper. "I promise to always love you, even if you never love me back, even if you never love again." She shuts her eyes and pushes her head back into the pillow, her mouth forming an 'o' as her orgasm washes over her. I thrust a few more times before I cum with her.

After I ride out my orgasms, I collapse on her chest, breathing heavily. Elena's untangles her fingers from my hair and lets go of my hand. I think that she's about to slip out without so much as a word again, but instead, she wraps her arms around my shoulders and holds me. I furrow my brow. Is it possible?

I feel her chest heave and a sound escape her lips. I furrow my brow even more. Her chest heaves again and the same sound escapes her lips. What is that? Is she—is she sobbing?

I lift my head and look at her. Her eyes are shut tightly and lines of tears streak her cheeks.

My heart overflows with joy, even though she's crying, she's feeling.

"Elena," I say, wiping her tears with the back of my hand.

"I—I," she says in between sobs, "I killed that waitress."

"Hey, hey, listen," I respond, trying to soothe her. It doesn't work. Her eyes pop open and they are overflowing with emotions. Literally. She's crying really hard. "It'll be okay."

"No, Damon!" Elena shouts. She pushes me off and I fall on my back. I stand up quickly and pull on a pair of my PJ pants, preparing for the worst. Elena stands up from the bed, dragging the sheet with her. She places her hand on her head. She looks so flustered. "I—I almost killed Bonnie!" Elena shouts. "And all those things—those things I said to Caroline, and Stefan, and—and you! And oh God! Jeremy!"

Elena turns from my room and blurs out.

Fuck.

I run after her, tapping into my vampire speed. I find her standing in the living room. She picks up the glass tumbler filled with bourbon.

"Elena!" I shout.

"NO!" she screams, throwing the tumbler into the fire. Flames explode from the fireplace, barely missing Elena.

"What's going on in here?!" Stefan's voice sounds from behind me. I turn around to look at him. Stefan's eyes switch from me to Elena and his eyes widen. "You got her emotions back?"

"Yes, now howabout you stop pondering the 'how' and 'why' and help me out?!" I demand.

Stefan jumps to action. He runs over to Elena and grabs her shoulders, forcing her to stay still. She tries to squirm out of his grip, but he holds her in place using his superior strength.

"Elena! Elena! Look at me!" Stefan demands. Elena stops and stares at him. He continues, "You're feeling all the pain of your life all at once and it's heightened because you're a vampire. I know, I've been there many times. Elena, you have to search within yourself to find that one emotion that keeps you going. Find it and cling onto it. Hold onto it with all you've got."

Elena calms down immediately. Her eyes drop to the ground and I stand in complete shock, totally unprepared for what might come next.

Eventually, she lifts her eyes and meets with mine. Her chocolate brown eyes are twinkling with…no, really?

She takes a few unstable steps towards me. She pauses and stares at me. I stare back at her with a furrowed brow. What is even happening right now?

"Elena?" I ask.

The moment her name escapes from my lips she takes a few hurried steps towards me, closing the distance between us and cups my face with her hands. She pulls me into a tenderly passionate kiss. Our lips meld together perfectly. My heart flies with joy.

Elena breaks the kiss and presses her forehead to mine, stroking my cheeks with her thumbs. I've never felt more alive…more human…more joyful in my entire life.

"I love you," she whispers, pecking me on the lips, "I love you no matter who you are, too."

And just like that, everything: all the pain, all the sadness, all the hurt that I had endured the past month, was suddenly worth it.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed. Thanks for reading. Please leave your thoughts in the reviews!