"How the hell did Kol find you?" Stefan demanded, then lowered his voice apologetically when Elena cringed. Every sound was amplified by the pain in her head. "Sorry, sorry. But i don't get it. What happened?"

Elena was trying to think fast, which was no easy task given her throbbing headache. She wondered if she'd gotten a concussion; her head was heavy as a bowling ball. And not one of the cute bright pink ones girls used, but the 15-pounders with huge fingers holes designed for big burly men with big burly hands.

"Klaus was covering his bases," she said softly, her voice hoarse. "Kol has been in Colorado this whole time with Jeremy." That much was true. "He beat us to that vampire woman..."

"Scary Mary?"

"Yeah," she murmured, frowning in her attempt to weave fact and fiction. "Damon and I managed to give him the slip though - Kol, I mean. We had to get out of there, keep Jeremy safe. but I guess he followed us back. We were..." Where, where, where? "At a gas station. Damon was filling up, I went inside to pay, and uh, Kol took me by surprise. Waited until Damon and I were separated to go for me."

"Athen he strangled you? Why would Kol hurt you? I thought protecting you was Klaus' number one priority."

Shit. "I don't know, Stefan. It's all kind of blurry." That much was hardly a lie. "It all happened really fast. Maybe the plan was to take me or something? So he just needed to... immobilize me and get me in the car. Stefan, my throat is killing." Another convenient truth. "Could i have another popsicle thing?"

Yes, her throat was killing, but really she just needed time to think. She was fairly certain her story made sense, as much as anything made sense right then. Which, she thought wryly, wasn't saying much.

Stefan smiled at her and gave her hand a comforting squeeze. "Sorry. you scared me, Elena. I can't stand seeing you hurt."

"I'm not a huge fan of seeing me hurt either," she answered, forcing a smile in return.

Stefan leaned over her and pressed a kiss to Elena's forehead.

"I'm so glad Damon was there to protect you," he whispered, then rose and headed for the door. He paused in the doorway, glanced back at her and sent her a loving look. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

You don't have me, she thought bitterly. Not anymore. You left. Damon stayed. And I had to go and fall in love with him. Brilliant work, Gilbert. God, I should just take a vow of abstinence, join a nunnery.

She scowled, muttered darkly to herself. "Maybe I can just turn lesbian or something."

"Now that sounds like a fun idea."

Her head jerked up - ouch - and her gaze met a pair of amused blue eyes and smirking lips. Damon's eyes, Damon's lips. And damn it, the sight of them, of him, made her heart stutter. He was so perfectly, unbelievably, infuriatingly handsome, standing there propped against the doorframe, arms crossed, the picture of arrogance. Yeah, he was painfully beautiful. And damn if he didn't know it.

"Stefan told me you were gone." Her voice was quiet, and he could hear the pain in it. The pain he'd caused. Nothing new there, he thought, that familiar feeling of self-loathing wreaking havoc on his gut. And now that he knew she was okay, he'd twist the knife a little more and walk away. It was for the best. He'd rather leave her angry than sad.

He gave a casual shrug. "And now I'm back."

"Why?"

"I've got a vintage bottle of Glenfiddich somewhere around here. I've been carrying it around for seventeen years - it's damn good scotch. Didn't want to leave it behind."

She studied him through beautiful, tired eyes. "Is that all?"

"What else would there be?"

She closed her eyes again, needing to hide the pain in them. An answer slipped out of her mouth practically of its own accord.

"Me."

She didn't see Damon's jaw drop, but it did. He crossed the room, dropped to his knees in front of her and cupped her chin with his hand. His heart was racing, that traitorous blossom - more like a stubborn weed - unfurling in his breast. Hope. Lovely, lethal hope.

"What do you mean, Elena?"

She didn't open her eyes but raised and dropped her shoulders in a shrug of her own. She simply couldn't invite more hurt.

"Talk to me," he whispered. "Talk to me, Elena."

"I can't," she said, looking at him again before looking away. "You strangled me, remember? it hurts too much to talk."

She wanted to piss him off so he'd give up, walk away. The same way he'd planned on pissing her off and walking away.

He wasn't going to.

Still holding her chin firmly in place, Damon raised his other hand, dragged his wrist to his mouth and tore the skin. Blood swelled from the fresh wound.

Now Elena looked at him again, eyes widening in momentary alarm before her jaw set in a hard line and tried to provoke him further.

"Gonna force-feed me blood again?"

"Only if you want me to," he answered calmly. "I hurt you. Now I want to fix that. I can see the headache in your eyes, Elena. I can make you feel better, if you let me."

She lifted a brow at him. Gave it one more shot. "Since when do you ask permission?"

"Since now."

Stefan had offered to heal her the same way. She'd refused, partly because she wanted to stall for time before having to tell Stefan what had happened. But that wasn't the only reason. There was something intensely sexual and intimate about tasting someone's blood. Blood sharing seemed so very... personal. She couldn't do something intimate or sexual with Stefan, not after everything that had gone on between her and Damon. It wasn't right.

"I'm healing pretty quick here," Damon murmured, cutting into her thoughts. "Let me help you. Please. Let me help you, Elena."

She couldn't break his gaze and remained focused entirely on him as she reached for Damon's arm and lifted his wrist to her lips. Tasted him. Felt the essence of his being fill her mouth and pump strength into her body. The world fell away. There was nothing left except Damon. Nothing mattered except Damon.

"I guess you don't need this anymore."

Damon and Elena's heads turned in sync at the sound of Stefan's voice. They both saw the same thing: the sight of his retreating back.

And two more freezer pops, lying lonely and half-melted on the floor.