A/N: I decided to just keep my advanced mathematics major and torture myself because I'm fun like that. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: I only own Lacey.

Under Control

Jeremy walks into homeroom on Thursday with an expression that can only mean one thing: Uncle John.

I lean over when he throws himself down in the desk beside me. "How ya holdin' up?"

"As long as I don't have to see him," he mutters. "Fine."

Pulling out a mini box of Dots from my pocket, I hand it to him with a smile.

"I don't like those."

"I do!" Anna snatches the box out of my hand as she walks by, taking the seat behind Jeremy and popping a Dot in her mouth.

"Sister sweets!" I beam. "You're attending here now?"

"I am," Anna replies. "My mom felt bad after you got attacked at the house, so it wasn't hard to convince her to let me come."

She leans in, motioning for Jeremy and me to do the same. "And I compelled the secretary to give me the same classes as Jeremy." She gives me a sad look. "Which means I'll only have one with you."

"Oh, that's fine. I'm sure Jer will love to spend more time with you. In fact," I smirk at him. "No amount of time with you would be long enough, but he wants to start with forever."

Jeremy's face reddens as he grabs a pencil and stabs my arm harshly with it.

"Ow! Hey!" At his expression, I hold in a snicker. "Never mind."

Anna wheels her head back and forth between the two of us.

"She's confused," Jeremy states. "Just ignore her."

I roll my eyes as the bell rings dismissing us from homeroom.

It's a testament to how horrible the education system is that I'm not even a little bit lost in any of my classes after how many days I've missed this year.

I run into Tyler Lockwood in the hallway outside Ric's classroom between classes. He sneers at me and is about to say something I'm sure he considers insulting, but Ric comes bounding out of the room before he can.

"Problem here?" He asks, brow raised expectantly.

"No, sir," Tyler replies as he brushes past me.

"Noodle," I whisper after him. He turns around ready to fight, but one look at Ric's stern expression has him continuing on his way.

"I don't know why he doesn't like me, Ric," I muse aloud. "I'm an angel. Everyone else finds me hilarious."

Ric sighs. "I think it's his dad. I met him at career night, and he was a real douche."

"I never liked Mayor Lockwood," I remark. "Hey, have you seen Stefan?"

"No, why?"

I shrug. "Just curious. Haven't seen him lately, and I live with him now."

Ric motions for me to follow him into his classroom and shuts the door. "About that," he starts, a guarded expression on his face. "I don't think it's safe for you to live there. I think Stefan's a good guy and all, but Damon…"

"Damon loves me," I interrupt. "He would never do anything to hurt me."

"I'm starting to see that," he mutters. "But I just want you to know that if you ever need somewhere else to go, my door is open. I've got a pull-out couch in my living room that I'd be happy to take."

"Ric…"

"I'm just giving you an out," he explains. "If you ever need it. You don't have any parents to look out for you now, and…" He scratches the back of his head awkwardly. "Yeah."

"Thank you," I say with genuine gratitude. "I don't think I'll need it, but it means a lot that you would do that for me."

I pull out another box of Dots from my hoodie. "Here," I say, handing it to him with a big hug.

He awkwardly pats my back. "Okay." Pulling back, he holds the Dots up and looks at them. "Do you always keep candy in your pockets?"

I beam, nodding my head. "You never know when you'll need sugar, Ric. I've saved many lives and swayed many a person in my favor with it."

He chuckles as he follows me out the door. "I'll keep that in mind."

XX

With the intent to find Stefan, no matter what it takes, I head straight home after school. Damon told me he would be at a council meeting and couldn't pick me up as usual, so I have to walk all the way there.

The sensible thing for Stefan to do would have been to at least show up and give me a ride, but no, he has to go all ghost mode.

"Stefan!" I shout, closing the front door behind me and dumping my backpack on the ground. "I just had to walk like 5 miles to get here, and you know how hard walking is for me!"

Silence is the only reply I get. Sighing, I walk down the hall but stop in my tracks when I see the door to the basement, or the dungeon as I like to call it, open.

I take slow, wary steps down into the dingy corridor. "Stefan?"

I hear a creak and jump, clutching my chest. I'm scared of the dark. Ironic, since I'm dating a vampire, but all sorts of things can linger in the dark. Spiders, cobras, potatoes, Stefan holding blood bags and sucking on them like a camel in a drought…

"Stefan, what are you doing?" I berate him after he throws the blood bag to the side, looking ashamed. "You're making a mess. You eat like a toddler."

He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth as I wrinkle my nose. "I… I can't help myself," he admits. "I'm struggling."

I approach him slowly with a sympathetic look in my eyes. I really do relate to the struggle. Every day I tell myself that I won't eat an entire chocolate bar, and every day I ignore myself and do it anyway. But first, he must pay.

I hold my hand out and he reaches up to take it, thinking I'm going to help him up. Instead, I slap him, making him reel back in shock. "And I struggled to walk five miles home."

With that out of the way, I grab his arm and pull him to his feet. "I'll help you, though, Stefman, because I love you."

I grab a blood bag from the cooler and lead him upstairs to the kitchen. "Sit here," I pull out a seat at the counter.

Pulling out a glass measuring cup from the cupboard, I pour the bag into it – exactly one pint. "Welcome to 12 Steps Not So Anonymously! We can refer to this program as the NSA," I deliver my most winsome smile to the imaginary camera and hold up the blood. "I'm your host, Lacey, and today I'm going to show you how to make a nutritious blood smoothie to keep you full all day long."

Stefan looks unamused. "Lacey, I don't think this is going to work."

"But, of course, it is!" I put my hands on the counter in front of him, jumping up and down excitedly. "It will help keep you accountable and give you a safe space to talk about your struggles away from judgey eyes."

He sighs. "You won't tell anyone?"

I zip my lips and throw away the key.

"Fine."

"Yay! Okay," I begin. "You get one pint of human blood a day, but your challenge is to make it last for the whole day."

Stefan listens attentively while I go over all the details and he tells me how ashamed he's been of himself for having such a hard time. Then he tells me about how he used to be a ripper.

"No, I don't believe that," I gasp incredulously. "St. Stefan ripping the heads off innocent people because he was too bloodthirsty?"

He looks down at the blood smoothie I made him, spinning it around on the counter. "It's true."

I stare at him for a few moments. "Eh," I shrug and ruffle his hair. "If you don't wanna be that person anymore that's why we're doing this whole shebang."

"Eh?" He repeats. "That's really all you have to say?"

I wrinkle my forehead in thought. Was I supposed to say something else? Actually, now that I think about it- "You're right. Let's discuss my fees."

Stefan shakes his head, taking a sip of the smoothie. "You've got problems, Lacey. Real, serious problems. You really don't care that I brutally murdered all those innocent people?"

"Nope," I pop out as I jump up to sit cross-legged on the counter. "I didn't know them, but I know you. And it's just something you did and wow it sure is something, but no I don't particularly care."

"So, if I just randomly went out and killed someone right now you wouldn't care?"

"That's what I just said. Keep up and let's bring the subject back to what's really important here: my payment."

"No," Stefan states as I glare at him. "Because you just don't make sense to me. How can you have no morals and still be…" He gestures to me. "You."

"I have morals," I frown. "That's why I'm personally not a murdering sociopath if that's what you mean. I just don't care whether other people have them or not. It won't make me like them any less unless it affects someone I care about."

Stefan pauses, contemplating. "That makes a little more sense."

"Great!" I clap my hands. "Payment. I require it."

He grimaces. "What do you want?"

"A piano in my room."

"That's… it? We have one in the living room."

"I want my own."

He furrows his brows. "Do you even play?"

I scoff and put on my best New York accent. "Do I play?"

"Look." He gets up and pushes me out of the room onto the piano bench in the living room. "Play, then I have to go meet Elena."

"You can't rush perfection, smoothie king." I crack my knuckles and my neck, tilting it to the side and rolling it around.

"You're not gearing up for battle, Lacey," Stefan drones.

Honestly, why am I even helping Stefan? I should let him go ripper and feel guilty for eternity.

I scoot the bench closer to the piano and set my hands on the keys. Then I scoot back a bit. Oof, too far. Forward again.

When I finally feel comfortable, Stefan is rolling his eyes with his arms crossed and tapping a foot. I'll show him.

I focus intently on the keys and ignore the existence of anything else except me and the trusty piano. While I play, my mind drifts.

It seems like such a long time ago that Jeremy was ignoring me, but during those four months, I had nobody. My dad encouraged me to learn the piano since we had one just sitting there unused in the house. He was thrilled when I picked it up naturally.

My mom stood in the doorway, tucked under his arm as they both wore matching expressions of awe when I simply sat down and tapped out a song. And now I have neither of them. Dad's dead and Mom's still alive, but she won't even spare me a thought anymore.

I admit to myself that it's probably safer for her in Pennsylvania, far enough from Mystic Falls to evade the supernatural. After all, it seems to be me that attracts it.

I'm so absorbed in my thoughts while I play that I don't notice Damon enter the room and come to a stop beside Stefan until I finish the song.

I look up to find Stefan's mouth agape and Damon watching me intently.

"I don't recognize… did you write that?" Stefan asks.

Nodding, I stand up and do a dramatic curtsey. "And that's what you get for doubting me, Stefanie."

Damon puts on a matching smirk and comes over to wrap me in his arms, pulling into a passionate kiss. "You didn't tell me you could play like that."

"I forgot I could," I confess and turn to face Stefan, whose face is still a mask of surprise.

"You know, I just thought it would be like when you tried to play guitar," he admits. "I learned a valuable lesson today. You do have emotions after all."

I pounce at him, fingers ready to flick his ear but he flashes out the front door before I can reach him.

Drat.

Damon pulls me close again. "That song almost made me cry," he teases gently. "Everything okay?"

"Mhm." I snuggle my face into his neck, breathing in happily. "I love you."

I feel him smile against the top of my head. "I love you too. Feel like going to a party tonight?"

I make a face. "Not really. Do I have to?"

"No," he murmurs. "But I would love to show you off as mine to everyone." His expression turns thoughtful. "What do you know about John Gilbert?"

My nose wrinkles in disgust. "That man is the most annoying, irritating person I've ever met, and that's saying a lot."

Damon grimaces. "Yeah, I got that vibe from him. He's a lot better than the council at identifying vampire activity." At my inquisitive look, Damon explains, "He connected blood bank robberies and campsite killings 75 miles away to Mystic Falls."

A deep sense of fury ignites in my soul. I can literally feel the anger building inside me. This is not good for my rage.

"Lace."

I realize Damon's been calling my name and focus on him, a smile as wide as the Joker's growing on my face. "You're in luck, hot stuff." I wiggle my brows. "I've got Uncle John wrapped around my pinkie finger."

XX

"Get away from me."

"Awh, Juan. You know you love me," I sing.

"I really don't."

"I know you care. Bum, ba da da!"

"I have a restraining order against you. I could get you arrested right now."

"Actually, you don't," I correct. "Sheriff Forbes spilled the beans that she forged it. It was F-A-K-E."

A little over a year ago, I decided that enough was enough. Everybody hated John, and I wasn't going to sit back and let him ruin everyone's fun without consequence. It wasn't my fault that the sulfur-scented candle I put under the hood of his car ended up making it explode. I just wanted to scare him a little, not actually blow him up.

Two days later, Sheriff Forbes showed up on my doorstep with a restraining order for me; I could no longer go within 100 feet of one Mr. John Gilbert for an entire year.

I watched from a distance with binoculars for the rest of the time he was in town to creep him out. It brought me a sick sense of satisfaction to know he feared me – I felt so powerful.

After he left, the Sheriff confessed that it was a fake document because she didn't want to actually get something on my permanent record.

"Great," he sighs. "I suppose there's no getting rid of you then."

"NOPE!" I scream right in his ear as I put my arm through his. "So how's life? What've you been up to? How're the wife and kids?" I mock a gasp and snicker. "Oh wait- You don't have any."

Uncle John doesn't react except for a small twitch of his eyebrow. "I heard your dad was killed in an animal attack," he mentions, nonchalant, and looks around. "Where is your dear mother?"

"Philadelphia."

"I see." He smirks. "I had an interesting conversation with Liz today about how you were staying with the Gilberts since your mother moved, but that's not true."

"Indeed, it isn't." I give him a toothy smile and pat his arm. "Good job. Your powers of observation are growing. Maybe if they were this good last year, you wouldn't have almost blown up, Johnny Rocket."

I burst into laughter as his face falls into a scowl and he yanks his arm from mine.

"You blew up my Range Rover."

"No, you blew up your Range Rover when you started the engine. I just lit the fire."

"If your parents weren't who they are… or were, I would…" He looks down at me in confusion. "Why are you still in Mystic Falls?"

"I live here."

"With whom?"

"Damon and Stefan Salvatore."

He narrows his eyes, suspicious, reaching out to grasp my arm in a crushing grip and making me whimper in pain as he wrenches me towards the balcony.

"Get. Your hand. Off her." Damon materializes next to me, glaring daggers as he rips Uncle John's hand from my arm. He steps in front of me and pushes him out onto the balcony.

"Damon, right?" Uncle John asks. "I'm not surprised you're with the arsonist."

"And I'm surprised nobody tried burning you alive sooner," Damon retorts with a fake smile.

"I'm sorry, what exactly do you have against me? How long have you even been in town?"

"Oh, not long at all," Damon reveals. "But you put your hands on my girl, and I'm not really known to be a forgiving person."

John's lips purse. "Neither am I."

"Then I guess we're at an impasse."

I shift my gaze between the two of them. Both have calculating expressions on their faces. "Why are you here?" I ask John.

"Jenna was trying to sell my brother's shop," he replies. "Then I heard about the… animal problem."

"You mean the vamp-" I slam my palm against my mouth, cursing myself for not being careful enough. "Whoops."

John fixes me with a glare. "I knew it. You're one of them."

I share a look with Damon before we both start cracking up. "Bwahahaha! You think… that… that I'm a vampire." Tears start streaming down my face and I have to lean on Damon for support. "I wish, Jack."

Damon quirks an eyebrow at me.

John looks surprised. "You're not one?"

"No, she isn't," Damon snaps.

"No," he muses. "But you are. You set the tomb vampires free."

"No, he didn't," I defend, crossing my arms. "They escaped on their own."

I was devastated to learn that Grams died from overexerting herself with the spell – the spell that ended up not working anyway. I went to Bonnie's house to offer her my condolences, but she's been out of town ever since.

John scoffs. "You expect me to believe that?"

Damon gives me an incredulous 'Can you believe this guy?' look. "You know that I could rip your throat out before anyone would notice?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, he's a brave one, Damon. Call him Merida."

He winks at me. "Yeah, okay. Merida probably ingests vervain so..."

I nod once, knowing what he's about to do. John Tucker must die.

"Sayonara, Uncle John," I trill. "I'd say it was nice knowin' ya, but it really wasn't. Gosh, you are so… GAH!" I clench both fists in front of my face, then beam at him. "Let me know if it's warm enough in Hell. I'd be happy to send a blanket."

Damon proceeds to snap his neck and kick him off the balcony. I run up beside him to watch the body fall to the ground, limbs twisting grotesquely. "Say, how high is that?" I wonder. "Gotta be two feet, at least."

Damon grabs my chin, twisting my chin and smashing his mouth to mine. "At least," he murmurs, but I've already forgotten my comment.

I can't think, feel, or hear anything except his hand knotting in my hair, his warm breath mixing with mine, his arm wrapping around me to pull my body hard against his.

"I love you," he whispers against my lips. "You're perfect."

"I know," I breathe, grasping his jacket to try and bring him even closer as he chuckles lowly.

Sometime later, it could be minutes or hours for all I know, we pull away, my face thoroughly flushed and lips swollen.

"I never told you how absolutely breathtaking you look tonight," Damon admires. "Red is definitely your color."

I glance down at my dress, a vintage red rockabilly gown I found in a thrift store. I liked the empire waist and cap sleeves.

I lace my hands together behind my back, rocking back and forth on my feet. "I like it too. Ooh! Look at this!" I twirl around a few times. "It's so flowy."

Damon grabs my hand and spins me around again, somehow twirling me right down to the dance floor before I even realize we've gone down the stairs.

"Smooth," I praise.

"Well, I did want to show you off," he drawls. "Back in my day, dancing was how it was done."

"I would have stood out like a burp in a symphony," I say, making Damon grin. "More so than I do now."

"Perhaps," he replies. "But I would have fallen for you all the same."

I bite the insides of my cheeks and rest one on his shoulder, spotting Stefan watching us from the bar, a drink in hand. He raises it when I meet his gaze.

"We killed John," I whisper under my breath for Stefan to hear.

Damon looks over, smirking at Stefan's irritated look. He stops swaying us, lightly tugging me to the bar and ordering me an apple juice.

"It had to be done," he assures. "He knew we were vampires."

"Damon," Stefan begins urgently. "If, uh, if you killed John, then who just walked into the room?"

We whip around, staring at the man who just walked in.

"Great golly," I exhale.

"You got to be kidding me."

"Thank you all, thank you very much, thank you," Mayor Lockwood begins his little spiel. "Thank you all for joining us tonight. In just a few moments we will officially begin the countdown to our upcoming Founders' Day celebration and it's a very special one this year. The one hundred and fiftieth birthday of our town!"

Someone wheels over a table with a bell on it. Compared to the Liberty Bell Elijah took me to see in Philadelphia it's rather underwhelming.

"I would like to welcome back one of our town's favorite sons to do the honors of ringing our official charter bell," the mayor continues. "John Gilbert, would you please join me up here?"

"Boooo!" I shout as John joins the mayor in the front of the room. "Get off the stage!"

He ignores me, as usual. I'd get Damon to kill him, but apparently, that won't work. A few people in the crowd give me disapproving looks, but I ignore them, also as usual.

"One hundred and fifty years of community, prosperity, family. We take care of each other, we look after each other, protect each other." He pauses and looks at Damon and Stefan. "It's good to be home."

"Man, what a liar," I snipe, nudging Stefan. "Nobody likes him except the mayor, and nobody likes him either, so he doesn't count."

Movement in the corner of my eye draws my attention to the left to see Alaric joining our little soiree.

"Hey, Ric!" I jump up and give him a hug.

"Look at his right hand, Ric," Damon says.

"Whose?" He asks, looking at Stefan's hands and seeing nothing of interest.

"Town favorite's son. Look at his ring."

All four of us crane our necks to get a look at John's hand.

"Well, it looks like mine," Ric observes.

"Yeah, and that would be a big coincidence if he didn't just come back from the dead five minutes ago. Where the hell did you get that ring?"

Oh, that's right. I forgot Alaric came back from the dead until this moment. I loop my arm through his, making him glance down at me and shift awkwardly.

"Isobel, my wife."

"Who gave birth to Elena, under the medical care of the esteemed Dr. Grayson Gilbert, John's brother!" Damon points out.

Stefan looks constipated.

I hand him the rest of my glass of apple juice. "Fruit fibers," I say. No further explanation needed.

"You're not saying what I think you're saying, are you?" Stefan questions Damon.

"Do you think John knew Isobel?"

Damon's expression darkens, thinking about what happened on the balcony. He takes a step closer to me, hand resting on my lower back. "I think John knows a lot of things."

"Right," Stefan clips out, giving me a meaningful look. He's uncomfortable with all the blood. "I'm going to find Elena. I need to… get away from the crowd."

I nod enthusiastically and mime to him to write his feelings in his diary, causing Ric to smack himself in the face when I suddenly jerk my arm from his.

"You're a danger to yourself and others, Lacey," he mutters.

"Sorry."

"Yeah, hey, Jeremy was looking for you earlier."

"Oh? That's odd. I'm not exactly hard to miss," I chuckle. "Where'd he go?"

Ric looks around the room. "Home, I think. With Jenna."

"Go stop Stefan. He can take you," Damon says with narrowed eyes, knowing I was about to offer to walk the few blocks to Jeremy's house.

"But-"

He glares at me. "Stefan. Or you're staying."

"Why can't you take me?"

"Alaric and I have some… things to take care of. I'll meet you back at home."

"You mean you're going to try killing John again," I say wryly.

"Not kill," Ric says. "Just get some information. See what he knows."

"Okie dokie, artichokie. Let me know if you need anything."

I give Ric another hug and Damon a lingering kiss before skipping off to find Stefan.

I walk past Matt's mom looking like a wasted mess, blood on her hand. Yeesh. I hope Stefan didn't walk past her. He's already having enough trouble when the blood is under a layer of skin.

I find him with Elena in the driveway, having some sort of intense conversation that I don't mind interrupting.

"Lovebirds!" I chirp, throwing each of my arms around their shoulders. "I need a ride to your house, Elena."

"Okay," Elena agrees. "Jeremy looked upset earlier, wanted to talk to you. I drove here so just climb in the back."

I'm upset that Jeremy was upset and didn't try harder to find me; I wasn't hiding. I wonder what could have upset him so much.

XX

"Jerbear!" I fling myself onto his bed beside his prone form.

He doesn't wake up.

I start poking his shoulder.

Snore.

I frown, standing up and staring down at him with narrowed eyes. Only one thing works when he's this deeply asleep.

Carefully reaching into his desk drawer, I pull out the secret weapon – the one reserved for the zombie apocalypse or the day they run out of Cheetos at the local grocery store.

The foghorn. Just like an air horn, or a boat horn, but bigger.

I smile with unreserved glee as I smash down on the trigger about a foot and a half from his face. I don't want to make him permanently lose his hearing, after all.

He vaults up and out of his bed onto the floor, tangled in his sheets as he tries to cover his ears with his hands.

"Hehehehehe." My maniacal chuckling turns into roaring laughter, sides stitching up from how hard I'm convulsing.

Dropping the horn, I fall to the ground, laughing harder as Jeremy starts cursing me out.

"Dammit, Lacey! What the fuck? Why? Why would you do that?"

I hold up a finger, unable to get words out just yet. Elena and Jenna peer into the room from the hallway, eyes wide when they see Jeremy and I both sprawled out onto the floor. "Why not? You wanted to talk to me, so I'm here!"

Jeremy pinches his nose bridge and waves our two spectators away. "Did Elena tell you she was adopted?"

"She's… no way!" I gasp dramatically, hand coming up to cover my mouth as I remember what Damon said earlier. "I know who her dad is."

"Really, who?" Jeremy asks as he heaves himself up and back onto his bed. "She only knew who her mother was. Some lady named Isobel, but-"

I gasp even louder, pretending this is new information since he didn't tell me yet and I heard it from Damon. I start coughing when my lungs can't handle all the air. "Isobel? Wow, what a name. That's Ric's ex-wife. Crazy sauce. Oh, wowzers, man-dude-guy-bro. Why didn't anyone tell me?"

Jeremy purses his lips. "Damon told you, didn't he?"

I grab one of his pillows and launch it at him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Hey, ah! You were in Philadelphia," he argues. "It wasn't exactly a conversation to be had over the phone."

"But what about when I got back?"

"I got distracted by your story about Elijah, then about potentially being turned, which, by the way, the ship is sinking."

"What? Nooooooo," I wail. "Why?"

"Anna refuses to turn me, said something about only turning people to do their dirty work, boredom, or because they can't spend eternity without them."

"But you totally fit into that third category!" I cry.

Jeremy shakes his head. "Not according to Anna. Well, not yet, she said."

Why, that little stinker. He had me believing all hope was lost.

I start pelting him with pillows. "The ship is not sinking, Jer," I chide. "It's sailing. I give it… two weeks. Two weeks and she'll be completely under your spell."

Jeremy lugs a pillow back at me, making me fall back onto the floor with a loud thud.

"Ow," I moan. "You're getting too strong."

"You're just weak," he claims. "You never finished, though. Who's Elena's dad?"

"Oh!" I crawl up onto the bed and sit cross-legged, staring seriously into his eyes. "It's John."

"John?" He shouts.

"Sshhh, hush! This is top-secret information I'm telling you."

"I'm sorry. It's just… Uncle John?"

"Mhm," I hum. "The one and only. And before you say anything, he can't be killed. It's already been attempted."

Jeremy rolls his eyes. "We've been over this, Lace. You didn't attempt to kill him; the whole explosion was an accident."

"Not me, nitwit!" I smack his shoulder. "Damon snapped his neck and threw him off the balcony at the party tonight. He double killed him, and the man still wouldn't die. He's got the same magic ring as Ric. That's how we found out about him being Elena's dad."

Jeremy stares off into the distance, deep in thought while I start neatening his bed. I reach for my phone only to find out I don't have it. Stupid dresses that don't have pockets. How am I gonna tell Damon when I'm ready to go home? Home…

I realize I've been unconsciously referring to the boarding house as my home for a while now. It's a bittersweet feeling, and it makes me want to call my mom. But I can't because I don't have my phone. "Grrr."

"Did you just… growl?" Jeremy squints at me.

"Yes, Jer, I just growled. I'm a werewolf, grrrr."

"So, Elena's technically my cousin, then," he points out.

"Yup. I'm more your sister than she is."

He whirls his head around to stare at me. "That… doesn't even make sense. Her dad is my uncle. And we share no ancestors."

There he goes with the logic again.

"You know what, nobody needed to know that. It's the principle of it."

"The principle of it? There is no… never mind" He trails off at my glare.

"Good answer."

A knock at the door has our conversation cut off.

Stefan pops his head in. "I'm about to head home. You wanna ride?" He asks me.

I give him a double thumbs-up, rolling off the bed onto my feet after giving Jeremy a quick hug.

"So how did you do today?" I ask him on the ride home.

"Not bad," he recalls. "I almost slipped up at the party, but your stupid grounding exercise actually worked."

"Of course it worked."

"Well, how was I supposed to know thinking of cows wearing tap shoes and dancing on the frozen Arctic Sea would actually do anything besides make me feel like a moron?"

I tap my finger to my temple as I smirk. "That's why it works. See? It's thoughts like those that keep me up at night," I shudder. "I figured, they're so obscurely distracting and disturbing to me that they might help distract you too."

Stefan frowns. "I want to both thank you and kill you at the same time."

"You don't wanna kill me."

"I do; your blood smells very appetizing."

"No, it doesn't."

"Yes, it does."

"Nope."

"Yes."

"Of course it does. I'm a real sweetie pie."

He exhales for a solid five seconds. "I mean it, though. Thank you for helping me with all this. I don't want to admit to Elena how weak I am. She… I don't know if she's as comfortable with the whole vampires-eating-humans thing as you are."

I reach over to pet his head. "You're welcome, Stefan."

"And," he adds. "I wanted to thank you for bringing back Damon."

I bring my eyebrows together in confusion. "Bringing him back where?"

"Bringing back the old Damon," he clarifies. "The happy Damon. The one who hasn't completely lost his humanity." He looks intently at me. "I know he'll probably never stop killing people, and I know you don't care about that, but at least he's showing some kind of… restraint now. He's trying to be good. For you."

I shake my head. "I don't need him to be good. I just need him."

A/N2: I'm so impatient to get to Elijah and Lacey. I have so many plans!