A/N: We've got a sneak in chapter again…but it was important. If I had an outline of how this story goes, I'd have edited a thousand times by now just to stick in these little, but significant moments. But real life is like that…sometimes things happen in the strangest, little ways. It's that way in their world, too, so bear with them :-) And me, pretty please? :-)

Thanks for all the feedback. I really appreciate it! Please let me know what you think by reviewing!

This chapter has a mini flashback to a few days before, but is mostly a present chapter again. It is mostly dialogue...that's the key to this one.


Somebody I Used to Know

Chapter 11

"So I'm thinking green on this wall," Elena patted it gently, "And like a yellow or something over there…" she squinted, "or maybe cream…yeah, I like cream…" She bit her lip and nodded. Yep, definitely cream.

Damon shook his head and smiled. She'd been talking about colors for the last two hours. What colors, what shade of colors….things he couldn't even see a difference between. And he wasn't sure how, but he'd almost forgotten why she was going so crazy about it. He'd told her they'd paint that day. Their little bookstore was about to get a face lift before.

"I think you're too worried about interior design right now," he laughed for a moment without looking at her. His eyes focused in on the papers in front of him. Numbers and statistics were blurring together as he was losing concentration. "We need to go over some of the notes for the dinner. Our speech and whatnot…" he raised his eyebrows. "Some of our main points…" His heart slowed as he saw their sales had dropped in the two weeks. He needed to get serious…he needed to concentrate, eliminate distractions. And she needed to help him…because lately, she was the distraction.

He'd wanted to help her and spend so much extra time with her in the last few weeks that they'd closed a few early hours some days and made the decision to stay closed all day on Sundays. He was glad he'd done it, but now he had some big fish to fry. He had to turn this place into his dream with less money. And what it the early closing hadn't been the reason they'd done worse? They couldn't fail

"That's fine, I have energy. We could make a night of it." She shrugged, sipping her white soda and cringing. It didn't feel so good going down.

"There isn't time for that today. You know that. We have actual work here." He looked down at his notes. He'd edited his speech so many times it was almost completely different than when it started.

"I thought you said I could pick the colors today," she frowned, the moisture appearing in her eyes. "You don't have to be so mean about it."

"We can't," he didn't look up.

"Aw, come on." Her voice was starting to go…but he didn't notice at first. He didn't think he was being a jerk…

"You come on," he smiled and looked up.

Were those tears? Was she seriously crying over this?

His smile faded quickly and he walked over to her. "What's with the puppy dog eyes? That's not even fair right now." He shook his head. "It's decorating. It's not the end of the world if you can't do it today, right?" He tried to be gentle, but he didn't know what to do or what to say….

"I wanted the pictures, and I wanted to have it done so we could show them at the dinner. It's for the dinner…." She tried not to her little drops fall. She hated this…feeling pitiful and sick. She'd been trying to convince him she felt better…but she couldn't even convince herself. She knew what it meant. She'd need to make that doctor appointment sooner than later. That alone was enough to make her cry. She still didn't want to go.

"You thought we were going to stay here all night and paint so you could have pictures? Elena, honey, there are computer programs for that. It's called Photoshop. We can design it without all the manpower…" he teased, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Fine," she sniffed and walked away. "Forgive me for trying to do something fun for a change."

A change? Wasn't working in the bookstore fun enough? Besides, she'd never really shown any interest in doing anything outside of work. He could tell she didn't feel well, but she'd gotten lighter since the pregnancy scare. Things were easier between them. There hadn't been one defining moment…it had just happened. Suddenly the fog of anger and regret them was clearing. Damon worried that it was too good to be true. Once they talked, really talked, he feared her walls would shoot back up and he'd be blocked out forever. Once she knew he never really stopped loving her, it would change things. It could go two ways, he knew. He just wasn't sure which one it would be.

"Oh God…come on, Elena," he walked over to her. "What's going on? You're not seriously crying about this…" he bit his lip. Stop talking, he told himself. Quit while you're ahead.

"I don't want to be crying over this. It's stupid. But I just am okay? I don't feel well, and I was looking forward to this…and…things have been so irritating lately."

"I'm sorry I told you we'd paint today, okay? I forgot we had so much to go over. The dinner's in four nights, Elena." He sighed when he saw a tear rolling down, finally.

The familiar cling of the bell rang as Elijah walked in on them. His quick pace slowed when he got nearer. They were arguing, he thought. This couldn't be good.

Elena swept a tear away from her cheek her lips turned upward at him. "Hi, Eli. Surprised to see you here. Figured you'd be at the airport by now." Their last interaction hadn't been so easy. She was happy to see him there smiling at her now.

"Mom asked me to stay longer," he frowned. "Are you…okay?" his thumb brushed over cheek where the tear had left a shiny trail. "What's all this now?" He smiled sadly and kissed her cheekbone. "Crying?" he shot her a knowing look and she shook her head.

"Don't start," she begged him. "Not now…okay?"

Damon's heart dropped. This was not okay. He knew they were friends but he had no business butting in their business and doing that… it was like he thought Damon wasn't capable of helping her…and they obviously referring to something he didn't know about.

He cleared his throat and Elena turned to him, a question in her eyes. He seemed jealous, she thought. If painting could make her emotional….

"Damon, I think we need a word," he cleared his throat back.

"Eli," Elena warned, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. "Behave yourself."

"Its fine," Damon's eyes widened and he stepped into the store's back office.

Elena leaned her head against the counter. She did not need this. She didn't need them talking about her. Her eyes scanned the papers and she saw the red figures. They were failing….

And she was crying over paint swatches.

"Why is she crying, Damon?" his voice was hard, serious. His hand pressed up against the door to hold it shut.

Elijah and Damon had gotten along when they first met…but that was before Elijah saw Elena's sudden changes. She may not have been obvious to others, or even to Damon, but she was slowly becoming a puddle of goo around him. She was extra emotional…

He liked Damon when he wasn't a threat to her sanity. But these days….

"That is between Elena and me. I'll handle her, okay?" he shot back. "And you can settle down with the whole kissy kissy thing, hm? It's not really necessary."

"Why, jealous?" He smiled, knowingly. Elijah's intentions weren't to steal Elena in the slightest. He just loved his friend and he'd protect her when he needed to. He'd do little things, just to test Damon. Just to see how serious he was…

And she'd deny it up and down, but after knowing her for eight years, Elijah he knew Damon was her biggest demon and he didn't want her to regress.

"You're her friend but you're awfully touchy feely on her, don't you think?" he frowned, he wasn't giving up until he had some sort of response.

"It's our relationship. We were roommates," he reminded him. "You can trust me, Damon." All kidding aside. "I lived with her for ages and we never even came close to sex, okay? I don't know what you're doing with her. I don't know if you even know what you're doing with her…but you better be careful and you better go slowly. She's strong but when it comes to you…she's weak."

Damon swallowed thickly. Elijah's words were powerful in ways he didn't even know. "I know that," he nodded. But he didn't know what Elena had said to him in the last few days. He didn't know the conversations the two friends had shared.


"Elena, what's going on with you?" Elijah walked into her kitchen. "Damon slept over here last night, I know he did. You two went in that room and you both came out in the morning."

"Nothing happened," she shook her head. "You don't have to worry. Everything's fine between Damon and I. We're friends again." He didn't need to know why Damon slept over…the crying…the everything…

"So you talked?" he sipped his coffee. "You talked about what happened?"
"We talked…not exactly about what happened. But we will. I'm just…ugh…I can't tell you right now." She bit her lip and smiled. This one was their secret. Something she'd only share with Damon. No one needed to know she thought she'd been pregnant last week.

Shook her head. "We have it under control," she smiled. "It's different now."

"So you aren't mad at him anymore for breaking your heart? You're just going to forgive him and that's it. You're going to just pretend like you didn't just go through shit for all those years…." He worried…but his list was getting longer…it almost made him sound jealous, too.

"I'm mad at him, Eli. Of course I am." she frowned. "But I can't be angry forever. I don't want to be. I'm really trying. Why does it seem like you want me to be upset with him? All this time you've been telling me to just walk away and forget him…why?"

"He's no good for you," he said simply. "I'm worried about my friend. Isn't that allowed?"

"So it's nothing else then?" She asked seriously. "You've never seen me with a man I've cared about…and definitely not with him," she inhaled slowly. Her feelings for Damon were a completely different category… "Are you jealous?"

"I've always thought you were pretty," he winked, "But you're my friend. I'm not jealous in the way you think I am. I'm worried I might lose you. I'd miss you if you just disappeared. We have a history, too." he admitted.

"I'm not going anywhere," she smoothed the hair on the back of his head. "I'm not that girl anymore. I don't just give up when it gets hard. I can have two men in my life, in very different or very similar ways and not have a meltdown."

"Damon and I are nothing alike," he reminded her. "You wanted nothing to do with him. You were sure of it for years. You told me to remind you of this if it ever became a problem. This is a not so gentle reminder."

"Elijah…please…" her mouth was dry.

"I see you look at him, Elena. You were tough and brave when you were so far away from him…but you're near him again and I can't help but think about what happens when you do talk. You can't do that stuff again…you can't fall off the rails,"

"I won't," she shook her head. "Elijah…look, you're my friend and I love you like a brother, but please don't tell me what to do about him. I can't…I can't not care…" she frowned. "I have to see where this goes…I can't let him go…"

"Why not?" he pushed.

"Because I just can't, okay?" she was yelling. "You're really upsetting me and I don't feel well. This isn't a game of table tennis. My answer is the same. Stay out of it, please…"

"And if he breaks your heart…" he warned and she sighed, relaxing. She couldn't let herself get too worked up. She'd be even sicker…

"He won't…" She was tired of arguing. Really, tired. She plopped down on a kitchen chair next to him, setting her palm on her cheek. She sounded so certain, so sure. "I'm a big girl. I can handle it. We're friends…."

"Who had sex," he reminded her, "not that long ago and without any sort of inhibition."

Oh, she remembered…but she didn't need to think about it.

"Okay we're done now," she laughed. "I know what I'm doing with Damon, okay? And we're not doing anything…especially that, right now…" She sipped her water…but the nausea came on quickly. Elijah was there…but he was surrounded by tiny black and white dots…

"Right now…?" Elijah spit his juice back in his glass. "Elena, I'm sorry but this is crazy. You spent years crying over him and now you catch one little glimpse of the man and you're done for. He's getting in your head and he's twisting you up in there…"

"Untrue," she shrugged. "My head is on perfectly straight. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go throw up." She rushed out of the room and met the tile floor again. It was a friend she didn't want.

"You have the flu?" he followed her like a puppy to the bathroom.

"Yeah," she nodded slowly. He didn't need to worry about her any more than she already was. It wasn't the flu, she was sure of it. It was something else. Something scary, she thought. She didn't want to know, let alone tell anyone else.

Suddenly things were just weird between them. He wouldn't accept that Elena wanted try something, anything with Damon, and he was about to leave. If she felt better, she may have tried to clear the air…but she didn't.

"I hope you feel better. I need to visit mom again, before I go," he said softly. She looked up from the bathroom floor into her friend's eyes. "I probably will leave afterward…but Elena," he scrunched his eyebrows together. "If he does try to break your heart, don't forget yourself…"

"I could never forget myself," she smiled. "Not anymore."


But now she sat with her head in her hands, staring at those numbers while Elijah and Damon's voices were rising in the backroom. It sounded like an argument…about her.

"Thank you for everything you've done for her, but I'll take over now," Damon voice was serious, possessive, almost.

"If she'll let you," Elijah charged back. "Like I said, I don't know where you think you're going with her, but you're not going to get anywhere with an attitude like that about her."

Damon swallowed. He knew Elijah was right. He couldn't go from being her friend again to being like this in an instant. "I know you have a history…but we have a bigger one. It involves two kids who loved each other more than anything. I'm sorry, but you can't come between this anymore."

"If you hurt her, I will kill you," he raised his eyebrows. Damon wasn't sure if it was a joke so he just sent him a lopsided smile right back.

"You're a cop, so I believe you actually could…but let's pretend you didn't say that. I'd like to get along with you. You're obviously important to her… I'm not trying to take your place…stop trying to take mine"

Elijah nodded. "And what place is that?"

"There aren't words to describe it," he admitted. Elijah would haveto settle for that one.

"She's crying because I won't stay up all night with her and paint this place, okay?"

"That's all?" He smiled, though he tried not to show it in his eyes. He still needed to be that wall for her…he needed to prove to Damon that there was someone else watching over her…

"That's all, I swear," he put his hands up.

"Well then if that's all you better suck it up and just do it," he suggested. "It seems silly, but if those are the kinds of things upsetting her these days, I'd say you're lucky."

It was true, he knew. But Elijah didn't know the half of it, he figured. He hadn't once mentioned the pregnancy scare. Elena was in a whole lot of hurt and sickness. She was worried constantly. Her brain was frying over the facts she couldn't make sense of. Nothing made sense.

Maybe he should just give her this… if that was all she needed to calm her down…

"I agree with you, I think…" Damon's voice was questioning. "But, um, two's company and three's a crowd, if you catch my drift…."

"I'm leaving today anyway. Just stuck around longer to visit my Mother a few cities over. But don't you dare forget what I said. If you want to take care of her, do it. Don't think of yourself and what you want all the time. Like last time," he arched his eyebrows. "Think about how your decisions and what you do and say affect her before you go off and do something stupid again…like sleep with her."

"Woah, come on. I was just getting along with you for a minute," he winked. They walked back into the lobby area of the bookstore to find Elena hunched over and asleep on the counter.

"Elena, I'm leaving for real this time," he touched the top of her head, rubbing it gently. She blinked a few times before wrapping her arms around his neck. Damon watched with envy. He realized something. It was completely stupid, but he hadn't even hugged her yet since she was back. He'd done everything else to her…but not the simple gesture of a hug. But it would have to wait. If he hugged her now it would just be awkward.

"Goodbye, Elijah," she smiled. "Thank you for coming. And really I'm fine,"

"Goodbye, Eli," Damon said in a sing-song swoon. "It was so nice to meet you," he teased.

"Don't patronize me," he laughed.

"But seriously…" he stretched out his hand. "I've given you a lot of shit, but only because I care. Thanks for everything you've done." Elena's eyebrows dipped at the words. What had they talked about?

As soon as Elijah was out the door and the bell was dong clanging, Elena was running to the bathroom to throw up again. And again. It kept happening. Something was so wrong…

"I thought you were feeling better," Damon slid down the door of the bathroom, listening to her sounds of pain. He swallowed nervously. He was being strong for her, but each time she got sick he became more and more worried. He was just as nervous about calling the doctor as she was.

"I was, kind of. But not as well as I've been playing off while he's been here." Her voice was scratchy, irritated. It sounded like it hurt to say anything.

"So you didn't tell him about…you know?" Bringing up the baby had been hard, but he couldn't help but do it. He hadn't forgotten in just a few days. He didn't want to….

"No, I said I have the flu. We can't all be paranoid about this. I'm paranoid for all of us as it is."

"Me too," he swallowed. "I think you need to go to the doctor." He said it carefully to check her response. He didn't want to push her, but he needed to about this…

"But the dinner…." Her voice broke. She knew he wanted to go to it so badly.

"We'll go to the dinner if you're up to it. But if you're not…we won't." He shrugged, and though she could not see his caring eyes, his affection was evident in his voice.

"You can still go," he could hear her spitting into the toilet between sentences. She had nothing left to throw up.

"I'm not going without you. If you're in that bad of shape you aren't going to be by yourself. Not because I don't think you can handle it…but because if I'm at some dinner and you're here throwing up your dinner…I just can't have fun there…" he frowned.

She smiled through the door, but he couldn't see. All he could hear was the toilet flushing and her hands being washed. He moved out of the way and stood up just in time for her to open the door. When she came out she was pale, clammy, sick

"Better?" He asked, frowning.

"For now," she sighed. "Ugh…this is so irritating," she whined. "I can't do anything…"

"Sure you can. You held your own in there for a long time," he reminded her. "He had no idea."

"I'm sorry I was so stupid about the paint," she admitted. It was nice to hear her admit something so quickly. The old Elena would've just pretended the situation didn't happen. But he didn't want an apology. He wasn't angry that she wanted to paint. He'd just been frustrated about the store. He'd told her she'd always be more important than the store would ever be…he had to remember that.

"It wasn't stupid…I know you don't feel well and you need a distraction," he smiled. "So," he pulled out some paint swatches he'd hidden in his pocket when they found her sleeping. "Vanilla Bean Cream or Creamy Dreamy Cream?" He raised his eyebrows. "What the hell kind of shades are these? They look the same?" He held them up to the light.

"Really?" She smiled. "You're really going to let me paint in here tonight?" He saw some pink roll into her cheeks. It suited her. She looked young for a minute.

"Really," he said, and in a heartbeat, before he could process it, her arms were around his neck and she was holding him tightly in an embrace that had been needed a lifetime ago.

His arms squeezed her gently, not too forcefully. He knew she was sick, but she smelled so much like Elena and she felt so warm and familiar. She was soft. She slid away after few seconds.

"But we have a lot of stuff to move and a lot of organizing. It's going to take hours. We may be here all night. We're going to need hydration," he explained.

"Yes," she ran into the other room, organizing the brushes and rollers.

His eyes widened. "You have everything here already? What, did you buy like ten different colors of paint in case?"

"Maybe," she smiled. "What? I might have changed my mind." She shrugged. It was nice to see her smile and tease him. It was so nice. Elijah had been right. This, these little moments, were what she needed. She didn't need a train wreck of a situation tearing through her in order for her to come to terms with them. They needed to talk…but it didn't mean they couldn't have fun before.

"Vanilla Bean Cream," she nodded. "It's wonderful."

They spent hours taping up the doorframes and draping paint cloths over the shelves, careful not to wreck anything.

"You're awful at this," She teased as she watched him roll paint onto the wall. "You're making a crazy pattern. The kids are going to see this and they're going to know it wasn't me."

"Maybe I'm doing it on purpose. I could be artsy," he teased. But really, he'd never actually painted anything before…

"No, you really can't. I remember art class in seventh grade. It was bad, really bad, Damon."

"You said you like that picture I drew for you," He frowned. Was she serious? She thought he was bad? He smiled. It felt good to talk to her like this…about old times…really old times…

"I liked it for me…but it wasn't art fair worthy. Sorry to hurt your feelings so many years after the fact," she stuck her tongue out. "But I thought you deserved the truth."

It was getting very late, and their defenses were slipping. They were falling into the familiar.

"Hey, you haven't thrown up in like three hours!" He pointed out. "This distraction is working."

"Three hours isn't that long," she squinted.

He scooted to another area of the room and found a little scribble in marker behind one of the shelves he hadn't yet moved. He squinted to get a closer look, but he could read it as plain as day once his eyes came into focus.

ELENA AND DAMON, 2000.

"Come here," he waved her over. She stepped through the room, over paint cans and roller pans. "Look at this." His fingers rubbed over the text sweetly, though he'd never seen it before.

"I wrote that," she smiled. "When we were sophomores." It was a good memory.

"Why?" He wasn't sure if he was crossing some invisible line, but he was going to try. She was talking to him…and he had to try little things here and there…just to see…

She swallowed and he watched the effort her neck made at that gesture. It was a thick swallow, filled with emotion. The type of gulp a person does before they say or do something really, really important…

"Because I loved you," she said slowly. Her words shook the earth. He took a deep breath and continued. She'd referred to loving him the past and hadn't said one smarmy remark about it.

"In 2000. We weren't even together…other than the kiss…" he breathed. That had been a beautiful moment in his youth. He was in over his head about her after that.

"I wrote that before you kissed me," she admitted. "Months before. I remember it because I hurried up and scooted the shelf over so you wouldn't see when you came in. I was a kid and I did silly things like that. But now, it doesn't seem so silly. It's a good memory."

"I'm glad it is," it was one of the first times they'd actually gone back and forth about something in their past that wasn't negative. They could argue with the best of them, but this…this was different. It was something like nostalgia… "If you loved me then, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew I couldn't," she shrugged. He wasn't sure he should keep pushing it. He was getting the answers he wanted, but how many questions did he get before she snapped? The more he asked, the closer he'd get to his real questions…

"You were my best friend and you were dating someone else. I thought you wouldn't want me. I thought you wouldn't love me back," she said seriously. "And in a way…"

"Shhh…we're not talking about when we were seniors. We're talking about when we were sophmores, now" he stopped her. He wanted her to know his feelings without associating it with the big break up. "I did love you back then. I should've said something, too. I lost interest in Rebekah early on…I just…if we would've dated earlier than we did…maybe…"

"Okay," she stood up, away from the wall. "I'm thirsty." He let her change the subject. It was getting too close for comfort.

"Let's see…I have water, coffee, juice..." he smiled.

"After the figures I saw on those stats sheets, we might need hard liquor" she commented.

"I don't think you and I should be drinking together any time soon," he said. She caught on quickly. How long could they go without talking about it?

"I don't know…" she smiled and he almost blushed. Was she actually referring to it? They hadn't even talked…certainly she wasn't referring to them doing that again… she was sicker than a dog and still angry. She couldn't be talking about that.

He picked up his paint brush and slathered on some paint, ready to take it to the wall as she sipped her coffee. He felt a cool stream of paint slide onto his finger.

"You know, I could really go for a sandwich, but I'd probably just throw it up," she said as she turned to face him.

"What's that on your face?" He said seriously, scrunching up his nose. "Seriously, there's like," he smoothed his paint covered hand along her cheeks, "paint all over it,"

"Hey, Damon, what the hell?" She put her hands on her hips and touched her cheek. "What's your problem?" She laughed, wiping off the paint.

"My problem is that its now almost three in the morning and we've been painting all night. Maybe it's the fumes or something, but I just feel crazy. I feel like laughing with you…things have been so serious… I miss laughing…"

She picked up the roller and stroked it down his face, coating him in cream paint, too. She smiled, waiting for his reaction. He pushed the paint away from his eyes and opened them. His blues paired with his lopsided smile was enough to make her keel over at that time of night.

Moments like these were simple and fun. They made it easy.

"You're a little punk," he laughed. "You're feisty. I like it."

"Yeah well," she sipped her coffee again. The little happy moment faded away as she thought about just how feisty she'd been. Her smile died and she plopped down onto a beanbag. "I'm still afraid to go to the doctor." She admitted.

"I know," he sat next to her. The beanbags were so much lower than he remembered.

"But you are right. I need to know what this is, so I can fix me."

"Do you think we'll ever fix us?" He sighed. It was a shot in the dark...but he took it.

"Yes," she nodded seriously. "I've been thinking about it. Our friendship now is fragile. I feel like we can only say a few sentences to each other before it gets too hard."

"I know you probably don't want to talk about it right now. You don't feel well and you're tired…" he looked at the woman next to him in that familiar beanbag. It was hard not remember what they'd done there so many years ago.

"Maybe we should start," she blinked at him. "Before we go to the doctor, I think we should start talking. If something terrible is going on with me, I'd never forgive myself for letting this just live between us all this time. I want to straighten the air before we find out."

He sighed, wiping his face with a damp washcloth. Did he have it in him? How could he even begin to think about everything he wanted to say to her? And how could he do it without saying he loved her….?

"I'd like to say something," he breathed. "I know this may not make a difference now, but it would have then, so I need to say it.."

She frowned but he reached out and touched her hand gently. She waited in silence, with baited breath. She was afraid

"I'm sorry that I didn't let you make your own decisions back then. Maybe if I hadn't pushed you so hard you wouldn't have had to make the ones you did…." It was a big thing to say, but he needed to say it. "But it killed me to see you doing those things…" she blinked a few times and just listened. Her heart was fuzzy and the butterflies were trying to beat out the nausea. She was angry with him, for everything, still….but she didn't want to be anymore…

"I didn't think it mattered to you what I did….but I wanted it to," she swallowed. Her voice cracked. "Every stupid, shitty decision I ever made was because of you, for your attention. I pretended it wasn't...but everything was. And I got it, but not in the way I wanted. You were too much my brother and I just wanted you...it hurt too much..."

"I know…." He said softly. "But I can't take responsibility for your choices. You made them because I hurt you, but it's not my fault." He needed to be honest with her, but he really didn't feel like arguing…

"It's not your fault that I started drinking and sleeping with random men, I'll give you that. I made that choice. But it is your fault that I felt like crap…" she frowned. They were bashing things out…but it didn't feel angsty...it felt therapeutic….

"I never meant to make you feel that way. I tried to hang around…I missed you…"

"Your hanging around was the problem. We loved each other, Damon. I mean really loved each other. I was drowning in you and then you just pulled up and left me." Now the words were harsher. "How could you think I would just be okay with being your friend?"

"Because we were friends first," he said honestly.

"You told me you didn't want me and then you were in my face all the time...rubbing in how great you are..."She didn't she didn't say how great you were. It was still there.

"I was afraid of losing it because of something our parents did. If we couldn't be together, I still wanted us to be something…" He reached out to touch her hand but she pulled away.

"It doesn't work that way," she laughed, bitterly. "You were the most important person in my life. Everything I love happened with you. And then in an instant it was gone. My heart couldn't handle not having you that way. The thought of you being my brother made me sick."

"I know…that's why I had to break up with you, Lena…" he frowned. "I thought I did, at least….he started." She stared at him, willing herself to just listen and not get angry. This was hard to talk about…

"But when it was done, I was angry," he admitted for the first time. "It was the wrong choice."

Her eyebrows tilted. What had he just said?

"Years later when I met Katherine and she saw your picture I lied." He swallowed. "She asked who you were and I said my stepsister. I didn't elaborate any further…ever. But our parents did…she found out and she was angry...really angry. She found out after you visited your mom two years ago. And then things got tough. We worked through it...but not enough..."

He'd lied to his fiance?

"You never told her we…"

"No, I didn't want her to know...because it killed me to think of my feelings..." he swallowed. "And it was the second biggest lie of my life," here it came. She looked at him with pretty, wide open doe eyes. The sick girl faded into the background and it was just Elena.

"The biggest lie I ever told was to myself. When we broke up and I was so certain that I'd be okay…I told myself I could stop loving you…but I couldn't. Every day I saw you at school was torture…but I knew I'd made my decision for a reason at the time."

"So you did want me? All that time? All the times I threw myself at you? All the times you sent me those texts that made me feel like garbage?" her voice was angry, hurt. This wasn't the sweet moment it was supposed to be…

"I did want you," he frowned, nervously. "That's why I'm sorry…I made the wrong decision when I broke up with you. But I couldn't admit it then. All I could see was them….but years later, on the day before my wedding, I knew…you were right. I picked the wrong person to side with…I missed you."

Her stomach was twisting from anger and nausea and regret. She couldn't even hear the sweetness he was sticking in between the hurtful truths. She hadn't even heard he just admitted to not getting married because of her.

"So all of it was for nothing?" She spat out angrily. "I just slept with random men for nothing? You wanted me that night…I could've lost it to you…. I would've never…." She looked at the ceiling before she pushed herself out of those chairs.

Suddenly the fingers were pointing at him again, but instead of anger he just felt sick.

"I'm sorry but I have to tell you now," he said sadly. "I owe you the truth. I realize this makes everything you suffered through for nothing…" He stood up in front of her. "I'm sick of hiding this."

She was mad at him for what he'd done or not done back then…but she wasn't mad at him now. She didn't look at him like he was about to tear her world in two. She was just…sad, really. He was trying to be honest, and she was shoving it off like it meant nothing. In reality, it mean everything to her. But her emotions were too weak for her to get her real feelings across appropriately.

"And now I'm probably fucking dying from a disease I got from one of those men, Damon," she was shaking. "I would've never slept with any other man again, if I'd ever slept with you back then…" She was so weak...

It was the truth. She knew she'd be married to him right now if she'd never fallen off the rails…if their parents hadn't ruined everything…. He swallowed at her admission. Although she was angry it was still a big one. She'd admitted she wanted forever with him. But could he be surprised? If he'd been nothing to her she wouldn't have fallen so far…

"I don't think so," he swallowed. "Wouldn't you already have issues with that? You said it's been four years…" he was trying to be careful. He needed to change the subject. It was too hard…

"Well then what the hell else is it? Look I know we need to talk, and I know I wanted to try…but now that we started I need time to process this before we say anything else. I think I feel differently about this than the way I'm acting…I… it's just…"

"I know. I hurt you. It's the only way to say it. But I'm sorry and I regret it and I don't want to hurt you anymore. That's why I have to be honest here. I care about you…"

"You care about the old me," she smiled knowingly, but she knew nothing. "The one that's dead somewhere….the one who probably overdosed somewhere in an ally…." He frowned. "Yeah," she said seriously, "It could've been that bad, Damon…"

"I care about the new Elena, too," he said softly. "But to the little old, Elena who might still be in there a tiny bit...I'm sorry." He wiped another area of paint off her face. "And I know we have to deal with our old selves before we can even touch this," he pointed between them. "But I want you to know that I won't choose wrong this time. No matter what happens with us, I'll always choose what's right."


A/N: Ahhh! I know, it's not the doctor appointment, but like I said, it's a sneak in chapter. I have to build up to that, though some of you already have suspicions about what it may be. I say nothing ;-) Thanks for reading. This one was a transitional chapter for me. They have been making strides lately…it's time some truth came out. However hurtful it may have been…in the long run…she gets it…

Thank you.

We ARE going to see the doctor appointment, the dinner, the funeral…etc…coming up. I promise!