A/N: Takes place in/after 2x02 Brave New World.

This chapter was really hard for me to write. Sorry for the delay. I hope you like it!

Chapter 2 I Hate Myself For Loving You

"You, bitch!" he spit out, slamming his room's door. He was an idiot. What did he expect from her? He knew what he was getting himself into right from the beginning. And he got stabbed in the guts, just like he deserved. Only this time literally.

"I don't really like that nickname," Katherine pouted and turned around to face a rage-radiating Damon.

"Well, they haven't come up yet with a word that would describe you," he fired back and watched her smirk. Seriously? Was she really amused? "Why the fuck did you turn her?" he snapped. "You knew perfectly well what she'd do."

"Come on, Damon. You know why! The girl can be pretty useful when you know which strings to pull. I couldn't help myself," she explained. "Nothing personal."

He stormed towards her and sank his finger in her face so hard that if she had been human he would have left her with some pretty ugly bruises. "I find your new minion trying and almost succeeding in killing me pretty personal, Kat."

She pushed his arm away effortlessly and asked with a sigh, "what happened?"

Damon walked down the high school corridor trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for the Lockwoods. If they were neither vampires nor humans, what the hell was left? Aliens? It didn't make any sense.

All of a sudden, a metallic object perforated his back, snapping him out of his thoughts. He reached back and pulled out a giant cooking knife. It scrapped his spine on its way out which left him with a painful tingling on his legs for a few seconds. "Ouch," he complained and he focused on any sound that would give away his attacker. Who had he pissed off this time?

"I come in peace," he announced. "You clearly don't…" he turned the chef knife in his hands oscillating it on his index finger. "But hey! No hard feelings!" he singsonged to the apparently empty corridor.

He picked the sound of high heels approaching him at an inhuman speed. He pinned the woman against a wall, but he didn't expect being stabbed again, this time by a wooden stake. Thank God he healed quickly or he'd end up like a Swiss cheese.

He looked up at the blonde. "Caroline?" he winced. No good deed goes unpunished in this town, does it? "What the-"

She lifted him by the throat and switched their positions before he could finish his sentence. "So wood it is," she whispered looking at the stake sticking out of his stomach, as if making a mind-note. He was too shocked to form any coherent thoughts.

"What? You thought you could use me in every way you felt like and get away with it?" Great! All his compulsion from the past had worn off.

"Kinda." He reached to remove the stake but the angry newborn grabbed it before him and twisted it a few times causing him to groan in pain.

"No, Mr. Cocky. I'm not done with you yet."

"Who turned you?" he said in-between winces. She grew confused for a moment and he took advantage of it, throwing her across the corridor.

"Now, this is what I call ironic," he mocked. "I can't wait to see Liz's face when she finds out. It'll be priceless," he said finally pulling the stake out of his stomach and walked predatorily towards her. "You have to learn to respect your elders, little lady. Or you may end up with your pretty eyes poked out," he said and crouched beside her. "I learned that the hard way," he added and his fingers brushed the side of her face. All her courage vanished and a scared kitten curled up into a ball took her place. He almost felt sorry for her. "Now… what am I gonna do with you?" he thought aloud, playing with the stake in his hands. He'd at least try to get her to say who turn her before he got rid of her.

"Oh, God!" Elena's voice interrupted his thoughts. "What the hell are you doing, Damon?"

Before he could react Caroline had Elena against a locker. "Why did you do this to me?" she cried. "Why did you kill me?"

"Shit! Not her again!" he groaned.

"Later, that little Bennett witch almost cremated me for trying to fix your mess. I'm sure there's an urn with my name in her living room," complained Damon. "Jeez, I was doing them a favor! And to top it all, now Stefan's playing mommy and daddy with Vampire Barbie." There was hardly anything his brother could do to become more pathetic.

He glanced at Katherine, who was now sitting cross-legged on his bed playing with her curls. She didn't even pretend to be listening to him. "You really don't give a shit, do you?"

He couldn't believe himself. Had he really expected her to show regret? And he thought Stefan was pathetic…

And then she laughed. She fucking laughed! "You're so cute when you get angry," she said playfully biting one finger.

Angry didn't even begin to cover it. His blood had reached boiling point and his brain seemed unable to stop generating more and more torture scenarios involving the Queen Bitch in sweet, bloody agony. But still, if he was being honest with himself, he wasn't capable, physically nor emotionally, of killing her. So he'd have to put on his best poker face.

He stood in front of her, lifting her chin up. "You haven't seen angry, hon'," he tried to intimidate her. It would've work on anyone. Anyone but Katherine.

"Show me then," she replied, pulling his shirt. She was trying to tangle him in her web again, but he wasn't giving in. Not this time.

"Stop playing with me," he stepped back, "and answer the question. What do you want with Caroline?"

"You're not as smart as I thought," she mocked him, and then narrowed her eyes, "you really wanna know?" she asked and waited for him to reconsider.

"Yeah!" he demanded. Not knowing was consuming him. And with that he had finally broken their unofficial silence contract.

"You just had to ruin our fun, huh? Maybe it's Elena you want to have fun with…" she insinuated accusingly. "I don't like that failed copycat of me. And yet, she still has both of you wrapped around her little finger."

"That's not an answer," he interrupted her impatient. He waited for her to go on, but she didn't. Apparently she was done talking, so he'd have to put the pieces together himself.

Ok, Damon. Time to think. What has she told you 'till now?

She didn't like the fact that both he and his brother had turned their attention to Elena. After his soul-bearing speech on the porch, there was no point in denying he had feelings for Elena. And Stefan was so immersed in Elenaland he didn't give a shit about her anymore. Was she jealous of her doppelganger? But even if, what did Caroline have to do with that? She said she was going to use Caroline to do her dirty work, just like he had. So…

And then the pieces of the puzzle fell in place. Caroline had been his way of getting to Stefan and Elena. She wanted to put end to his brother's 'epic' romance. She wanted Stefan.

FUCK!

He needed Adam Sandler's remote control. Rewind, please! He had to go back to before the Bitch returned to Mystic Falls. Or better yet, before he even met the man-eating harpy, who had reduced his life to a vicious circle of getting his heart ripped out over and over again by her gentle little hands.

"Get out," he demanded coldly. She didn't move an inch, so he walked to her. "Get. Out," he yelled in her face.

"That's not what you want," she had the boldness to say. "And that's not what I want." She trailed one finger down his chest and he felt that vicious electricity once more. He caught her hand and stared at her while waiting for his brain to start working again.

She was toxic, poisonous. A disease that slowly ate you up from the inside out, leaving nothing more than a shell of what you once were. And despite the lethality she represented he was still unable to walk away. He had tried to shut his feelings off, to bury them as deep as possible. He had really tried, but all his efforts had been in vain. That hideous love kept resurfacing no matter what he did.

So he clung on to the hate. And there was a lot of it. Hate for all the lies she had told him and the ones that still remained unsaid. For the life she had taken away from him and the one she had forced upon him with her empty promises.

But it was exhausting. Hating her was a burden he could barely carry any longer. He had to hold himself back in order to staying away from her, but self-control was something he didn't do very well.

So he gave in to her once again. He wiped the knowing grin off her face by brushing his lips against hers roughly, violently. In less than a second he had her completely naked and against a wall. The impact caused a painting to fall off and the frame cracked when it touched the floor.

"If we keep on like this, we're gonna tear down the house," she mumbled against his lips. He couldn't care less. He needed her to feed his most self-destructing addiction. Hell could unleash and it wouldn't make any difference.