Chapter 6

Damon stood in the bathroom stall at the Grill and gripped the top of the door with both hands as he leaned his head against the metal. He took a deep breath and tried to regain his composure. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. It was all too real, too sensual, and he already wanted her so badly. He knew one thing for sure. He'd never be able to drive her around in his Camaro again.

Attempting to shake away the images that still plagued him, Damon headed back into the main restaurant. His thoughts turned instead to why the visions had occurred. His theory was that the more intense visions only occurred when they were all alone, so he'd told Elena to keep Stefan close, even though it killed him to do so. He couldn't help wondering what they were doing. What they were talking about. Were they making up? Were they being intimate? But Damon knew that Elena had been distant with Stefan ever since he'd gained his freedom from Klaus. Nothing had been the same. And she loved him now, didn't she? Although that didn't mean she didn't still love Stefan. But her distance from Stefan and her growing feelings for him might explain why the vision had occurred. Maybe Stefan had noticed it, too. Maybe she had even told him the truth. He could have simply refused to stay in the same room with her.

With these thoughts swirling around in his mind, Damon sat back down on his bar stool and shook his empty shot glass at Matt. He vaguely noticed Klaus and Caroline were gone. Matt was cleaning up the bar, getting ready to close up for the night. Matt looked up and started to say something when his cell rang.

"It's Rebekah," Matt frowned down at his pone. "What would she want?" he looked toward Damon at this.

As if Damon would have a clue what Rebekah Mikaelson, a one thousand year old, original vampire and hot piece of ass would want with Matt Donovan. Damon simply shrugged. Best not to piss off Matt and have to hear about it from Elena. Instead, he said, "Why don't you answer it and find out."

Matt answered the phone and walked away into the kitchen. Why do humans do that, he thought. He has to know that I can still hear every word. And he forgot my shot, Damon fumed.

Bored, Damon decided to walk outside to wait for Matt. He would have the big oaf fill him in on the details regarding the phone call. He didn't need to hear every ridiculous word. He grabbed the bottle of tequila and walked outside.

Taking a chug out of the bottle, Damon turned and noticed Stefan walking toward him from the direction of Elena's house. "Stefan, what's wrong? Is Elena…"

Damon was interrupted by a right hook across his jaw, and he fell hard toward the pavement, glass shattering as the bottle collided with the ground. "What the fuck, Stefan!" He yelled, as he pulled himself back up, readying himself to fight back. "This was a nearly full bottle of booze, too."

"Is that all you have to say, Damon," Stefan seethed.

Damon's first thought was that maybe Stefan had been compelled by Klaus again, but then he studied Stefan's face. The rage was there, but it was mixed with something else. Betrayal, maybe? Then it hit Damon like a stack of bricks. He knows.

"Where's Elena?" Damon asked, calmly.

"She's in her bedroom, probably recovering from the amazing vision she just had. But then you knew that already, didn't you?" Stefan snarled.

Damon winced. What could he say? "Look, Stefan, obviously the spell worked." He shrugged, "It's not a big deal. So she has feelings for me. We all already knew that. We aren't – she isn't acting on it." Damon was hoping he could downplay everything. If Stefan wanted to be mad at him, then fine, but he didn't want Elena to suffer more than she already had at his brother's expense.

"Don't. Don't do that, Damon. The spell doesn't work just because you care about someone. It's love, Damon. She's in love with you." Stefan was all fury and despair. The veins under his eyes were beginning to swirl and pop. Damon could feel they were on the razors edge. A disaster of epic proportions was about to unfold.

"When did the visions start, Damon? How long have you both been keeping this from me? Did you know this morning?" Stefan spewed.

Defeated, Damon decided to tell the truth. "They started last night, but we didn't know what was going on until Bonnie…"

As Damon relayed the information, Matt walked out of the Grill.

"Great timing, as usual, Donovan," Damon deadpanned.

Stefan saw Matt and his fangs extended. He growled low and angry. Matt's head whipped around from where he was busy locking up. His eyes widened in fear.

As Stefan lunged, Damon grabbed him by the head and shoulders and yanked, breaking his neck in one swift motion.

"What the hell happened?" Matt came running over. "Do you think Klaus was behind it?"

Damon shook his head and said simply, "No, I was behind it." Damon turned to look at Matt full on. "What did Blondie Bex want?"

"Umm, uh, yea," Matt stuttered, still in shock. "She wants me to come over. Says Klaus is having a little party. Caroline is there, so I figured I'd go and keep an eye out."

"Yea, good idea," Damon said, looking down at his brother broken at his feet. As an afterthought, he yelled, "Hey, Donovan! Don't get yourself killed!" Then he picked Stefan up, threw him over his shoulders, and carried him across the street to Ric's apartment.

Damon had left Elena alone, unprotected, for longer than he had intended. He'd had a lot to explain to Ric, whom they'd purposefully been keeping out of the loop since his magic Gilbert ring had started acting all wonky. It would be just like Ric to go and get himself killed. I mean, literally. How many times has he died with that ring on? I mean, not counting the time or two I killed him even.

Damon took out his phone and texted Elena again. She had texted him to tell him about Stefan, but he hadn't had the heart to give her the latest update. I'll do that in person, he cringed. Then he got into his car and drove toward Elena's.

Elena couldn't sit still. At first, she sat on the third step, elbows on knees, waiting on Damon to walk through the door. Then, feeling a little too obvious, she moved to the couch. She tried flipping on the TV as a distraction, but she couldn't focus. She left the TV on and headed back upstairs. She grabbed her journal and sat on her bed, clicking the pen repeatedly, unable to put words to paper. She felt guilt, of course. She never meant to hurt Stefan. She never, ever meant to develop feelings for Damon. It had just happened. But if she were honest with herself, guilt wasn't the primary emotion she was feeling.

Relief. Sweet relief.

He knew.

Not only did he know, but he knew without her actually having to utter the words, 'I'm in love with Damon.' She hadn't had to watch his face as she hurt him. She knew that it wasn't over, that she'd have to talk to him at some point. She'd have to explain. She'd have to decide what she wanted – whom she wanted – but maybe the worst was over. Coward.

Elena's thoughts were interrupted by the door slamming shut downstairs and footsteps in the foyer. Her heart jumped in anticipation. At the last second, she thought to hide her journal, although it was probably unnecessary. Damon had to know where she kept it. If he wanted to read it, he easily could.

"No window entrance tonight?" she asked, as she looked up at his achingly beautiful face. Why do I feel nervous?

Damon smiled a genuine smile. "Do I need a do-over?"

"The door just feels so domestic," she joked back.

"You know me. 'Domestic' is my middle name." He sat down on the bed and stretched out, placing his hands behind his head and leaning back against the head board.

"Make yourself comfortable," Elena smiled.

Damon began to reach down for the hem of his shirt. He mocked pulling it over his head.

"Stop! What are you doing?" Elena grabbed his hands to pull the shirt back down but not before glancing at his chiseled abdomen. Her pulse quickened.

"You said to make myself comfortable," Damon said more seriously. He locked eyes with Elena, and she became all too aware that her hands were still on his. But she didn't remove them. Instead, she allowed her eyes to roam his face, settling on his mouth, and she unconsciously shifted her body closer to his.

Suddenly, Elena was pulled into a fantasy. Damon was kissing her hard and insistent. He picked her up to straddle him and Elena ground into his erection. Elena found his hands again and brought them to her chest. He slid them down, allowing his thumbs to work her nipples until they hardened. He reached down to yank off her top….

"Damon, stop!" Elena yelled and jerked back.

Damon stood and started pacing. "I didn't mean…I just wanted to kiss you, and…"

"Damon, it's ok," Elena whispered. And she meant it. If it hadn't been his fantasy that exploded in her head, then it would have been hers. That or they would actually be kissing right now.

Damon spun around, throwing his hands in the air. "It's not ok, Elena! I basically mind raped you."

Elena didn't know what to say. Should she make light of the situation? Change the subject? Admit how she'd been wanting the same thing? She decided on option two.

"Let's just talk about something else. Did you see Stefan? After he left, I didn't know what to do."

"Yea, I saw him all right," Damon laughed once. "My jaw got up close and personal with his fist. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say he figured it out."

Elena resisted the urge to go to him now, to check his face for bruises. She knew there wouldn't be any. Instead, she said, "I'm honestly not sure what happened. I went to sleep. Last I knew, he was on the window seat reading. I woke up to my book hitting the wall. I remember the vision…" Elena trailed off, cheeks reddening. She looked away but not before she saw Damon's cocky half smile reflected at her in her dresser mirror.

"You must've done something or said something in your sleep. My question is, do you think he left you alone at all. Maybe he left and came back?"

"I don't know, Damon. I doubt it. I told him I was scared and asked him not to leave," Elena explained. "I don't think he would've left me alone, even for a minute."

"Then my theory about us needing to be alone to cause the visions must be wrong," Damon admitted, pensive.

Elena rubbed her temples with her fingers and tried to think. An idea was nagging her, but she couldn't quite grasp it. "The fantasy visions only seem to work when we're in the same room, right?"

"How d'you figure?" Damon asked, intrigued.

Elena's cheeks flushed red again. She wanted to hide her head inside a paper bag. "Well, you haven't mentioned…I mean, I haven't had any…"

"You've been fantasizing about me when I'm not here, is that it? And you assume that, since I haven't mentioned it, that I haven't experienced it with you." Damon said, coming to stand in front of her. "Is that it, Elena?" he asked, cupping her face in his hand and turning it to look at him.

Elena simply nodded.

"Ok, so if that's the case – and we're going to need to test that theory, by the way. You know, just to be sure – But if that's the case, then it stands to reason that the fantasy visions occur only when we're together and the intense visions occur only when we're apart." Damon clapped his hands and smiled, looking victorious. The puzzle had been unraveled.

"Sounds logical that the different visions would depend upon us and only us. I think you're on to something. Maybe we should run it by Bonnie?" Elena asked.

"What? No. She already said she doesn't know anything. I think we just need to apply the scientific method, and we'll have this all figured out by tomorrow."

Elena sighed. She felt nervous, but the anticipation was almost intoxicating. Tonight was either going to be pure torture or pure Heaven.