Disclaimer: Sadly I still don't own anything. If I did, sure as hell Delena wouldn't be just FanFic anymore...

...and Dalaric would stay the most reliable bromance ever!

A/N: Wow! So many awesome reviews...That was amazing! You really made my day, you guys! Please go on like that, that's what keeps me writing...

I hope all your bruises from banging your heads on your desk are healed again...

So, let's see what happens...

Chapter 25

And though it hurts me

To see you this way

Betrayed by words

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Temptation by Moby

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She stood on the porch, frozen.

Her entire awareness focused on the two big stones in her body. One was sitting where her stomach used to be; the other one had replaced her heart. Nothing else mattered.

Until her brain decided to work again. And she wished it hadn't.

It revealed everything to her the momentarily numbness had allowed her to forget.

And it nearly broke her.

As she had broken him.

She had screwed it up. What had been the best thing ever happening to her in her entire life – she had monumentally screwed it up. Just because she was too scared to let it happen. Too scared to risk it, too scared to take the consequences, too scared to let a real vampire in her life, more than he was in it anyways. To let him in completely, with everything coming along.

She got that now.

Stefan, her fear of pushing him over the edge – that was just a part of it. The main problem wasn't the fear for Stefan. It was simply the fact that she was crept out about the realization what it really meant to be a vampire. The two vampires she was living with for nearly a year now, the one on bunny diet, the other one mostly in complete control, had made it easy for her to forget about that.

But the recent events had torn it to the surface. And she was sure…no, to be honest, she knew, if she'd let him in her life, in her heart, more than he had been in before, she'd never be able to walk away anymore. If it's real, you can't walk away…This decision would change her life irreversible. So much more than being with Stefan had changed it.

And it simply crept the hell out of her.

And now she had lost him.

She barely realized that her shaky legs could merely carry her weight, and she managed to stiffly take the two steps to the stairs; descending them, she almost tripped over her feet; she caught herself, clutching at the banister, and sunk down to sit on the stairs with pounding heart.

How could she? How the hell could she have done this? After everything they had gone through together, after everything they had experienced together…He had always been there for her to catch her, to protect her, to comfort her…He had opened up to her like probably never before in his long life, and she…she had stabbed him right in his heart. Even worse than that.

He would never forgive her.

What was she supposed to do now?

Where was he?

Where could he be?

She had to find him. As fast as possible.

She forced herself to focus on the issue to search for him. Shutting down the churning part of her mind that was preoccupied with accusing herself, she focused on the part that was capable of calmness even in crisis. The very small part, right now.

What would he do now? He was in his worst state of mind. She had seen him like that only once; that night he had broken the first neck he could find apart from hers, which had been Jeremy's.

Would he do something like this? Go to her house and kill her brother again? Or someone else she loved? No, he never would. It wasn't about revenge. He never had been someone for revenge. He was hurt; beyond hurt. What did he do when he was really, badly hurt? She tried to remember the times when that had happened. The first time she thought of was the night Emily had destroyed that crystal. He had attacked Bonnie, immediately when the surrounding fire hadn't burnt anymore. He hadn't killed her, because Stefan had intervened; but he hadn't even tried later; it had been simply an emotional act.

After he had found out that Katherine hadn't been in the tomb he had been just paralyzed. Then the night when both Katherine and she had told him that it would always be Stefan…She cringed.

And then? Rose. The night Rose had died in his arms.

And suddenly she knew what to do. She jerked up and practically flew to her car, and there was just one thought left in her, and it coursed through every vein and every nerve and every cell.

Damon.

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Go to hell.

That's what she had said. Go to hell.

What was he thinking?

I won't leave Stefan because I love him.

How the hell could he ever had thought that she would choose him? It had always been Stefan…

Really? No, not really. The last weeks, she'd had doubts. More than doubts. She had been frightened of Stefan, but that hadn't been the only reason.

He thought about the straw that he had buried in his heart for weeks. She had offered him what became his straw when they were in the intermediate world, before Stefan's attacks. Before the fear had pounced on her. There had been more between them; it hadn't been just a figment of his cruel imagination.

He stopped his vamp speed rush in the middle of the wood he had blurred in to get as far away from her as possible, to get somewhere she could not follow. Just in case she wanted to.

Of course he had seen the regret in her eyes. He was not blind, not even in rage. He knew perfectly well that she regretted to have hurt him. She had been angry about him pushing her. And had lashed out. In the most effective manner she knew. And she knew him well.

A part of what had happened he could chalk up to an overreaction in anger. It was not that this would make him feeling any better, because, maybe for the first time, he had the feeling that he did not deserve this; not tonight. Tonight he hadn't pushed her to challenge her, after all. But…well; at least he could understand it. Overreaction was kinda his middle name. He had invented this concept. Go to hell…yeah, it hurt, but he could understand it.

That left over the worse part. I won't leave Stefan because I love him…He slammed his fist against the tree trunk next to him. How could he not have seen that? She never had stopped loving Stefan; not even the fear she was feeling of him could stop this epic love. And he knew that she was still afraid of his brother, even if she didn't admit it to herself. She didn't flinch anymore if he touched her; but what was left was a shift of awareness. She knew now what he was capable of; she had experienced it on her own, in the worst way possible. He had witnessed how Stefan had shattered her trust in him. She worked on putting the pieces together again, but it would never heal completely, it would always remain… just repaired.

But above all, she still loved Stefan. What had grown between them since that night…it had sufficed to confuse her. He really had thought she was still with Stefan mostly because she felt the need to prevent him from falling off the wagon again. That she was afraid to push him over the edge again, like she had said tonight.

He had been wrong. She simply still loved Stefan, more than she had known herself, maybe. And he pushing her had involuntarily helped her to realize it.

Again he punched his fist against the trunk; the wood splintered and dimly he discerned a piercing pain at his hand. And suddenly fury rose up in his throat again, mainly directed against himself, because he had pushed her too early; fury that added to the rage that had settled in his heart since her words had hit him; the rage that with an effort he had suppressed, in an attempt to deter him from doing something he knew he'd regret later, because she didn't want him to.

But he had pushed her away anyways. So he could give a damn on what she thought about him.

A deep growl escaped his throat and turned to a cry of rage that sounded through the wood, and again and again he slammed his fist against the tree.

Go to hell…He had lost her.

His eyes darkened and the veins underneath his eyes protruded. He felt his fangs emerging, and, except for fights and the two times he'd drunk from Elena, for the first time in weeks, maybe months he didn't force them back. Why should he? Go to hell…The one reason had abandoned him tonight. He felt bloodlust creeping through his veins, a bloodlust that could not be satisfied with blood bags, but only with giving in to the urge to hunt and kill.

His vision blurred, enabling him to see only two pictures: Elena throwing those words in his face and him on the prowl.

His reddened eyes glinted with lust and a covetous grin bared his fangs, and in a flash he was gone.

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She saw the car standing on the roadside from far; the headlamps were still beaming brightly, lighting the first trees in the wood next to the street.

What caught her attention, however, was merely to be seen, because it happened in the darkness the clouded sky covered the street with, which seemed even darker with the dazzling light of the car nearby.

She saw it nonetheless; it was what she was searching for, anxious to find it and, equally strong, anxious not to find it.

Elena shut down the ignition and got off the car. She hesitated only a second; then she approached the scenery that made hear heart fluttering in relief of having found him and pounding of fear to be too late at the same time.

There he was, a dark figure crouching on the street, holding the limp body of a dark haired woman in his arms; his head still bent over her neck, blood trickling from his mouth over his chin, dropping down on her collar bone now. But not feeding anymore. Frozen.

In a few yards distance she stopped. She knew he would never hurt her; but she was not stupid enough to risk it.

Not tonight, not after what she had done to him.

"Damon."

She said his name in a low voice, tenderly. He tensed.

She stepped a little closer, tentatively.

She had rehearsed a speech on her way to find him, had ditched it and rehearsed another one. But all words were blown out of her mind now.

All words but the essential.

"I'm sorry."

He slowly lifted his head and turned, ever so slowly, toward her. When their eyes met, Elena's knees nearly buckled. Underneath the blazing red bloodlust in his eyes lingered a sadness that cut right through her heart.

And she had evoked this sadness.

He turned his attention back to the limp body in his arms, let his eyes wander to the punctured bite marks he had left on her neck, lifted his hand and brushed her hair out of her face. Then he lowered the woman slowly, gently on the ground, rose and stood there, frozen again for a few seconds, watching his prey. Then he turned lightly toward Elena, but changed his mind, halted and, all of a sudden, blurred away.

Elena watched him vanishing in the dark, and desperation paralyzed her.

She had lost him.

She sighed deeply and fought back the brimming tears; then she turned her attention to the body lying on the street. Hesitantly approaching the woman, she dug for her cell in her pocket and dialed a number.

"I know, it's late, but…Caroline, I need your help…"

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Caroline needed only a few minutes to come to the rescue. Elena breathed in with relief when her friend got off her car and rushed over to her.

She sat on the ground, holding the unconscious woman's head in her lap.

"She's still alive…"

"Weird 'hello'…" Caroline ignored the desperation emanating from Elena, focusing on the woman she was holding. She lifted her hand to brush the dark hair aside, examined the tiny wounds on her neck and felt for the pulse; gingerly she pulled up one of the woman's eyelids to look into her eye. Then she turned toward Elena, giving her an appeasing smile. Gently resting a hand on her shoulder, she said quietly: "She's okay. Her pulse is strong…he didn't drink too much."

Elena gaped at her friend with wide eyes, confusion etched on her face.

"Then why is she unconscious?"

Caroline shrugged and looked on the woman again. "I figure someone was a little scary? He was upset, I guess?" she asked cautiously, eyeing her friend thoroughly now.

Elena swallowed to push the knot down that suddenly had built in her throat. She nodded hesitantly.

Before she could tell Caroline anything, the woman on her lap began to move slowly and then opened her eyes. When she saw the two girls' faces hovering over her, confusion sneaked into her eyes that even deepened when she detected that she was lying on the ground, her head bedded on one of the girls' lap. She began to look around and saw her car at the roadside.

"What…" she said, and then she cut herself off when realization hit her. Elena could practically see how the events of the night rushed back into the young woman's mind. Her eyes went wide, fear appeared on her face, her hand shot up to her neck; what she found there turned the fear into horror. She opened her mouth and let out a piercing shriek.

The sound, however, was stifled immediately by a cool hand clasping over her mouth. Her terrified looking face turned to Caroline, who took advantage of the opportunity to catch the woman's gaze.

"You're not afraid. You will drink a little of my blood, and then you'll get into your car and drive to where ever you wanted to drive; and you won't remember anything of what had happened here." She spoke firmly, and the young woman relaxed. The vampire lifted her hand to her mouth and bit in her wrist that she held at the woman's mouth then. Obediently the dark haired gulped down a few drops from the blonde's wrist. When she had enough, Caroline nodded, pulled her wrist away and began rummaging in her purse, searching for a tissue to wipe away the blood on neck and mouth. Then both girls helped the woman to stand up, and the vampire shoved her gently toward her car. She got in and drove away without a glance backward.

With a deep sigh Elena sunk down on the street again; Caroline, much more gracefully, sat down beside her. She gently placed a hand on Elena's thigh and gazed at her.

Elena stared at the concrete in front of her without discerning anything. "I made such a freaking big mistake…" she whispered more to herself than to her friend.

Caroline's eyes filled with compassion. "What happened?" she asked sympathetically.

Elena lifted her head and narrowed her eyes, looking questioningly at her friend, and answered with a counter question. "How did you know it was Damon?"

Caroline snorted. "Please. Who else could it have been? He's the only vampire in town who is that controlled…I couldn't do that, and Stefan…" She trailed off; it was not necessary to say more about Stefan. "Katherine would never bother to stop after such a small amount of blood, and the newbies…are newbies."

Elena couldn't let it drop yet. "But…who ever it was could have been interrupted…"

Caroline grabbed her hand and held it firmly in her own. Their eyes met. "Elena, he has heard you coming long before you saw him. If he'd wanted to drink more, to drain her dry even, he'd have had time enough . Trust me, he stopped by choice."

Elena felt the tension slowly fading. She looked into the darkness where he had left.

He hadn't lost control. Despite everything that had happened, he hadn't killed his prey.

"He kept control for me…I have hurt him that much, and he still did it for me…" The words came out of her mouth as a merely audible whisper. Caroline gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"He loves you…"

Elena turned her head toward her friend again and gazed at her, and various feelings showed up on her face in quick change: surprise, cognition, incredulousness, and then…a hint of happiness.

"Yes, he loves me…"

She jumped to her feet. "Caroline, I have to find him…" she urged.

The vampire stood up as well, raising her hands in a mollifying gesture.

"Wait, Elena; I'm all for running after the guy you love and apologizing, I mean, if it's necessary, and I still don't know what had happened actually, but I have that feeling it could be…well…I'm babbling" she cut herself off and drew in a deep breath. "What I'm quite sure about is that he won't drain anyone dry tonight. If he didn't do it with her" she waved her hand in the direction the woman had driven away, "he won't do it at all; not tonight, at least." She laid her hand on Elena's shoulder in an attempt to hold her grounded. "Maybe he needs a little space right now…"

Elena looked at her friend and considered her suggestion, and she had to admit that Caroline was probably right. She had found him and he had run off again. She sighed and nodded. Caroline wrapped her arm around Elena's shoulder. "Come on, let's get to my house; I'll make us hot chocolates and you tell me all about what had happened…"

.

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To his relief Damon found the boarding house empty when he came back home. He strode to the parlor and flung his jacket on a couch. Angrily he grabbed a decanter and reached out for a tumbler, decided otherwise and drank bourbon directly from the bottle. Gulping it down, he closed his eyes and savored the burning sensation in his throat. After having taken another gulp from the decanter he grabbed eventually the tumbler, poured two fingers bourbon in, sat the bottle back on the liquor table and stepped over to the fireplace.

He still stood there, starring in the crackling fire, when Stefan came back from his mission to find a newbie on the run. He tensed. He was not in the mood to see anyone, least of all his brother. Damon desperately hoped that Stefan would leave him alone if he just ignored him, but sadly his brother seemed to be oblivious for the tension in the air.

Stefan strolled to the liquor table and poured himself bourbon in a tumbler as well. Then he joined his brother in front of the fire place. Damon closed his eyes in defeat; obviously baby bro was in talking mood. He sighed.

"Mission accomplished?" he asked not really interested; the newbies were not his problem. One damn thing at least that wasn't…

Stefan nodded. "Eventually…we found him after he had killed three people…"

Damon let out an unhappy chuckle. "Someone was on the roll, huh? Makes one of us, at least…"

Stefan stared at his brother, then he furrowed his brows and examined him thoroughly. "Are you okay?" His voice sounded concerned now.

Damon shrugged. "On cloud nine…"

Stefan's concern increased. "Is everything okay with Elena?"

"Yes, Stefan, everything is okay with Elena. She's probably sleeping soundly" he asserted impatiently. For the first time tonight he turned to watch his brother; looking lightly disgusted he added: "If she finally finds some sleep, that is."

Stefan narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Really? Oh, come on, Stef. You're not telling me that you haven't even noticed that she's not sleeping?" Damon huffed contemptuously.

Stefan opened his mouth to answer, but changed his mind and turned back, staring into the fire again. For a while neither of them said a word, both lost in thought. Just when Damon began to relax a little, hoping that they were maybe, maybe done talking tonight, Stefan shattered his hopes.

"She's different lately" he said quietly, and despite himself Damon was slightly touched by the sadness in his brother's voice; but this emotion was short-lived. After briefly contemplating his words, Stefan added: "She seems to be a little…unhappy…"

Damon snorted and eyed him incredulously. "A little unhappy…?" he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. Was that all he saw? Really? A little unhappy?

Stefan turned now to watch his older brother. "What happened when I was…away?" His voice was still low, but now laced with a hint of a menace.

Damon arched his brows. "You know what happened. We tried to find you."

"I know that." Underneath the calmness in Stefan's tone lingered a scarcely hidden dangerousness. "That's not what I meant."

Damon felt the carefully suppressed fury of earlier rising to the surface. "Don't start with me, brother. Not tonight" he warned without even bothering to hide his anger any longer. Stefan stepped closer, seemingly unperturbed by his brother's annoyance; he only saw that he still hadn't got an answer to the question that burned inside of him since he was back.

"What I want to know is what happened between the both of you. You're both acting different. And you've been avoiding her for a week now. What happened between you, Damon?"

"You wonder why she is different lately and you automatically blame me?" Damon fumed now. "Do you really think that has nothing to do with you trying to kill her? Nothing?" His rage pushed him forward, menacingly invading Stefan's private sphere. Stefan instinctively recoiled, but then stood his ground against his older brother when he defended himself.

"She's not afraid of me. Not anymore" he insisted.

"Yeah. Whatever makes you sleep at night" Damon scoffed and turned away, downing his bourbon, slamming the tumbler on the table and immediately refilling it. Against his hopes, Stefan hadn't forgotten about the still not given answer to his question. He followed Damon, and before he could even take his glass Stefan grabbed his upper arm and yanked him around, forcing his brother to look into his blazing eyes.

"What. Happened. Between. You?" His voice had lost all calmness; it was trembling in fury now. With a rushed movement Damon squirmed free and stepped away, but Stefan went after him and jerked him around again. Damon shoved him a few steps back and glared at him.

"A: Don't touch me. B: What do you expect me to say? We were together in this witchy crap world of creepiness to receive those little rocks to get you back and kill Klaus in the process."

Stefan watched him suspiciously. Narrowing his eyes he demanded: "That's it? Nothing else happened?"

And all of a sudden Damon had enough of hiding and pretending. Stefan had nothing to worry about, Elena had chosen him again. Picking a fight could maybe release him from the fury still raging inside of him…He rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Nothing important" he said casually, "we just…kissed."

Stefan was over him in a flash, his hands at Damon's throat. Damon of course had expected that; he punched his fist against Stefan's head, over and over again, until he felt the grip on his throat loosen. The same moment he yanked Stefan's hands away and had his brother pinned against the wall before he could blink.

Hands on his throat, their faces only inches apart, Damon hissed: "Don't worry, brother. She chose you. I'll step aside, as always. But if you ever hurt her again, I'll be there, and I'll end you. And I will know about it, where ever I am."

He pushed himself away from Stefan, rushed over to where his abandoned tumbler still waited for him, downed it in one gulp and, with a last glare toward his stock-still standing brother, left the parlor to go upstairs.

This had not been the kind of goodbye he had pictured.

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A/N: Still sad... :( But there's a glimmer of hope...

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