A/N: Sooooo I hope you liked the first chapter! Things are a bit slow sometimes in this chapter (in my opinion) but it'll be worth it soon enough. :')

Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries. All rights belong to L.J. Smith and the CW.

xxxxx

Chapter 2:

They end up being on the road for about an hour and a half before they have to stop for gas and something to eat. The gas station is small and sits by a sideroad that leads west to a town populated by less than five thousand people. Damon plans on heading there to find a place for the two of them to stay, and to hopefully get some information out of Elena. She's been quiet for most of the trip, brown eyes soaking in the visions of the trees and landscapes as they all blended into one. Damon had wanted to ask what she was thinking about, but had decided against it.

"I could go inside and get some snacks while you fill up the tank, if you'd like."

He has his hands on the keys after he's turned off the ignition, contemplating whether or not he should take them with him outside. At the sound of Elena's voice he perks up and looks at her, surprise shown on his face as well as gratitude for the suggestion.

"That would be great," he says, pausing. "Thank you."

Elena's brow furrows for a second. What, is it wrong to be polite? Damon had looked at her as if he hadn't expected manners at all. Sure they got off to a rough start, but that doesn't mean it has to be that way all the time. Elena may be a bit jagged around the edges but she's smoother in the middle, you just have to file down to reach it.

On her way inside the small variety store, Elena keeps her head down and steps fluid, grabbing a basket as soon as she's through the door. There are few people occupying the aisles, barely casting a moment's glance at her as she passes and it's a nice change from how she used to be treated. Her hands grab things from shelves here and there, making sure to keep within a reasonable budget.

Elena wanders around for a few minutes before she finds herself wanting peanut butter, and she sets off to find the right section where the jars stand stacked. She freezes when a man is already there, a hand lifted to his chin like he's contemplating which brand is best. His hair is short and sandy brown, and Elena can see hints of stubble on the cheek that faces her. A knot twists into Elena's gut. No, not him. Not now.

The man turns to her, and his expression shifts into shock as he realizes who she is.

"Elena?" he whispers, moving closer. "Is that you?"

She remembers the green of his eyes. She remembers the sound of his voice as he snickered cruelly, how he'd stand in the far corner of the room, watching his best friend abuse his wife while he himself did absolutely nothing to help.

She runs.

Her ears don't want to register the sound of his voice as he calls out to her, so she blocks him out. Her feet skid to a halt as she comes up to cash and the elder woman standing behind the register almost has a heart attack from the abrupt disruption.

"Dear child, are you alright?" she questions. Elena nods feverishly and quickly places her desired items on the counter, waiting accordingly for the lady to scan them. When they're bagged, she hands the woman an unknown amount of money and thanks her with rushed breath before she books it out of the store, not stopping until she bumps into Damon, who appears to have been on his way to meet her inside.

"Come on," Elena breathes, "we should leave."

"What? What's wrong?"

"Please."

Suddenly, the sound of a man's voice interrupts them.

"'Lena!" he shouts.

She shivers. She can feel his eyes on her, can feel the way he invades her private space without even having to touch her.

"I know it's you," she hears him say, teasingly. He has not changed one bit and it sickens her.

"Elena," Damon whispers by her ear, "who is this guy?"

"No one," she snaps. Stefan.

"I don't know how you did it..." The man continues to talk. "But I will find out. As will Mason."

Elena panics. "Get me out of here," she pleads. "Now. Please. I'll explain later, just...please."

"Alright." Damon places his hands on Elena's shoulders, rubbing his thumbs up and down softly in hopes that it soothes the girl like it used to soothe him. "Put the bags in the back and get in the car, I'll be right with you."

Elena stares. What's Damon going to do?

"Go on now," he pushes, "don't worry."

She watches with intensity as Damon approaches the man and points a finger right in his chest, a slur of words leaving his lips that Elena is too far away to hear properly. Stefan's face on the other hand, changes from smug to threatened in a split second and it shocks Elena. She has never seen him that way.

Finally, Elena is brought to laughter as Damon flicks Stefan on the side of the head and shoves him away. Rightfully scorned, Stefan rolls his eyes and leaves in the opposite direction. Damon turns to her and holds a thumbs-up. As he returns to the Camaro and takes his place in the driver's side, Elena gapes at him.

"What?" He touches his face and looks down at himself, feeling self-conscious by the way Elena's looking at him.

"That was the best thing I've ever seen," she tells him. "I didn't think anyone could stand up to that asshole like you did."

Damon feels the blood rush to his face. "Oh, well..." He shakes his head and smirks. "He was no different than any other arrogant jackass I've met in my life. You just have to put your foot down and be fearless of the outcome."

He gazes at Elena, watches the dullness in her eyes become the slightest bit livelier as she seems to lift her chin higher while taking in a breath.

"I'll remember that," she replies.

The engine roars to life.

xxxxx

"So, what do you do for a living?"

The radio is sitting on a classic rock station as the two get to know each other. So far they've learnt their ages, favourite colours and songs, also if they have kids—to which both answer no. Elena is more shocked at Damon's answer, but when she herself is asked for an explanation she laughs it off and changes the subject. She's beginning to trust Damon, even more so after what just happened at the gas station, but she isn't quite sure if she's ready to drop a bomb on him just yet.

"I'm an artist."

Elena's mind blanks and she looks confused for a few seconds, then remembers that she'd asked Damon a question.

"Well, a painter," he clarifies. "My 'boss' is a friend of mine and he helps put my pieces out on display in different galleries. I'm working on a specific theme right now but...I can't seem to find the right inspiration for it."

"And what's the theme?" Elena pops a dill pickle chip in her mouth.

"Love."

Her heartbeat picks up in her chest, somehow still affected the word as it reminds her of everything she's running from. When she was younger, love had been her favourite dream. Now it's her nightmare.

"Oh," she murmurs, swallowing the chip with a wince.

"Yeah, I mean, it's a very common theme and it should be easy to figure out, but right now my mind's at a blank. I have no idea why..."

Elena hums an acknowledgement of Damon's rambling, hoping he doesn't notice she isn't entirely paying attention.

"Speaking of love," he goes on, barely noting the way Elena's discomfort is showing, "don't you miss your husband at all?"

"Ex. And no."

The answer is so curt and clipped that Damon's curiosity starts to get the best of him. He really wants to know why Elena is so...angry with the subject of her life.

"Are you sure? I mean... you must have been through something in order to end up here with me and—"

"I'd really rather not discuss any of this," she interrupts. "Just drop it. I don't like nosy people."

"And that's fine," Damon assures her. "I just want you to know that you can trust me. I am in no way connected to your past so...it's not like sharing your troubles can hurt anyone."

He takes his eyes off the road for a moment to gently place his hand on Elena's knee. It's hesitant, and at the first touch she flinches a little, like she's afraid of the actual physical contact. But she slowly leans in to it eventually, and she offers Damon a half-forced smile before averting her gaze once more and continuing her unhealthy snacking.

The trip stays at a level of silence after that, with the exception of the radio of course. Elena even finds herself humming along to some of the songs, and is encouraged further by Damon when he joins in. The road is nearly empty ahead of them, only a few transport trucks passing and some small cars heading in the opposite direction. Beside them it's open country. The land spans all the way out to the horizon, meeting the sky in a parallell chase around the trees and tiny houses. Elena thinks it's all so beautiful and peaceful, because she's never grown up with the freedom that countryside could have given her. She feels, for a moment, that she wishes her parents could have seen all this, and moved to a place where Elena wouldn't have been stuck with noisy nights and morning traffic for an alarm clock. She's never truly experienced quiet.

An hour later, Elena finds herself being nudged awake.

"Hey," a voice says quietly, "we've stopped now. I'll head inside and check us in, then come out to get you, okay?"

With her eyes barely open, she utters a low hum of consent before she yawns, listening to the immediate sounds of a door opening, the scuff of shoes against gravel and then the gentle slam as the door closes once again. Elena waits a few moments before she blinks her eyelids to wake herself up, and she stretches her arms above her head while she looks out the window. The sun's almost set, with bright arrays of orange and yellow washed into the usual clear blue. She smiles as she opens her door, hearing nothing but the chirp of crickets and her own thoughts in her mind.

Just as she gathers their bags, Damon walks back outside and lights up when he sees her, holding up a key with a number attached to it.

"Hey sleepyhead," he says happily, "our room's the last one right down there, number nine." He points to his left and Elena follows the general direction of his finger, nodding once when she spots the faintly painted number on the door.

There's not a soul outside with them, only a few vehicles parked here and there ranging from small to very large. An abandoned shopping cart sits in an empty parking spot, and Elena spots a stroller outside of another room.

The lock on their door is a struggle to deal with, but they manage to fit the key inside after a bit of maneuvering and jostling. In the room itself, Elena's hit with the smell of lemon-scented Lysol, and she wrinkles her nose, which makes Damon chuckle.

"Hey, at least it smells clean," he says, nudging her with his elbow.

Elena snorts. "Yeah, but what's the smell covering, is what I want to know."

"How about we don't find out?"

"Sounds good to me."

They both laugh.

There's two single beds settled against the left side of the room, with a small analog clock sitting on a nightstand in between. A box tv stands adjacent, with its remote perched on top. Elena wonders if Damon had specifically asked for a room like this—with two beds. Either way, she's thankful for the space.

The walls are—or, were—white, but they appear to have yellowed over time. The floor's carpeted navy blue and stained in the centre with some kind of brown-ish orange substance, which Elena doesn't want to investigate any further. She notices there's a wide window just by the door where they came in, and it could showcase the view of the parking lot outside if it weren't for the ugly curtains covering it.

"So," Damon speaks softly, his tone lighthearted, "what would you like to do?"

Elena's not sure, actually. She'd like to go out, maybe walk around for a bit and get some fresh air, but the bed looks surprisingly welcoming and her legs feel like there are weights attached to her ankles, so she decides it's better if she stays in for the night.

"I think I'd like to just watch whatever they have on tv and get some sleep after."

Damon nods. "Sounds good to me." He digs around in one of the bags they brought in and comes up with two packets of instant noodles in his hands. "I saw a small kitchen in the main building." He gestures outside. "I'll fix us some food to eat. Okay?"

"Alright," Elena replies. She makes sure to truly show her sincerity this time when she adds, "Thank you."

Damon pauses just before he disappears from the room. "You're welcome."

Left alone to herself, Elena grabs the black remote sitting atop the television and presses the "on" button. She flings herself back on the bed and shifts to find a comfortable position, her mind swirling with random thoughts as she waits for the cable box to connect with the satellite dish.

The man, from earlier...Stefan. He's been friends with her ex since high school, and they know everything there is to know about each other, about Elena, and the details of her relationship with him. Mason. He's an ass, and she has wished on more than one occasion for the guy to drop dead, because honestly, he's been a real struggle to deal with, as he proves so easily himself.

Something's nagging her from somewhere in her head though, reminding her that Stefan doesn't give up so easily. He may have been told off this time, but he always knows how to track a person down. And Elena is definitely no exception to this. She knows she'll be found, but the question is not where she will be found—only when.

Lost in her reverie, she doesn't notice Damon's return until he mutters a curse under his breath, and broth spills over the rims of the two bowls in his hands, landing in splashes on the carpet as it begins to seep in.

"Darn," he mumbles, and after nervously looking down at the fresh stains on the carpet, hands Elena her own bowl. "Oops."

Elena laughs. "You're a little clumsy, aren't you?" she asks.

Damon pauses, then shrugs his embarrassment off with nonchalance. "Maybe just a tad."

"I like it," Elena tells him. She scoops up a forkful of noodles in her mouth, chewing soundly. "Clumsiness is just a reminder that we're all humans who make mistakes."

Damon sits down on the edge of his bed to the right of Elena. He blows softly on his food. "That's true," he agrees. He remembers something about the young woman right then, and without thinking carefully, ends up spitting the words out without a second thought.

"Just like you can learn to trust again even if the bond's been broken once before."

xxxxx

A/N: Oooh Damon, I think Elena'll pick up what you're trying to say pretty easily.

Stefan, the heck you doin'?

:) xx