Note: chapter title from "never let me go" by florence + the machine.

15. found a place to rest my head

… … …

By the time Elena finally crawls into bed on Friday night, she's so wired that she can't sleep. It's almost two a.m., and she's exhausted, but she's wide awake. She supposes that's to be expected, after everything that happened tonight.

When Stefan and Damon knocked on her door tonight, she was so worried and shocked that she couldn't really process anything else. Even when Alaric finally got home, told them that he called the Sheriff just to get a sleeping, drunk Giuseppe back to his own house, she was so confused, so overwhelmed that she hardly said two words to anyone. She just watched and listened while Alaric laid down the ground rules with the boys, told them they'd be staying at her house for the foreseeable future.

But now, in the darkness and the quiet of her bedroom, her mind is racing. She's living under the same roof with her best friend and his brother, who happens to be her… boyfriend? Is he even her boyfriend? They haven't quite gotten there yet, but there's something going on between them, and Stefan still doesn't know. How the hell is she supposed to handle this? There haven't been many times where she's been around both of them, when she's had to really pretend that she and Damon don't speak, and now she has to do that on a daily basis?

She hears a quiet knock on her bedroom door, and she sits up in bed as Damon shuts it behind him. "Damon," she says quietly.

"Shhh," he insists, tip-toeing over to sit down next to her. "Hi," he whispers.

"Hi," she whispers back, wraps her arms around his shoulders to pull him close. He wraps her tightly in his arms, his nose buried in the crook of her neck. He takes a deep breath, and she runs her hand down his back to soothe him. She remembers the expression on his face when she opened the door a few hours ago, remembers how vulnerable and nervous and tired he looked. She doesn't remember the last time she saw him that way, if she ever has at all. She sighs, closes her eyes. "Are you okay?"

He pulls away from her, rests his hands on her cheeks, looks into her eyes. "I am now," he nods. He leans in to kiss her, soft but firm at the same time, and she melts into him just a little bit. He pulls away too quickly, rests his forehead on hers. "God, I've wanted to do that since I walked through that door tonight."

She nods, leans in to kiss him one more time. "I was so worried about you."

"I know you were," he whispers, his thumb caressing her cheek gently. "But I'm fine. We're both fine." He lays back against her pillows, pulls her with him so they're lying side by side, facing one another. "I couldn't sleep, so I figured I'd better take the opportunity to be alone with you while I can."

"I couldn't sleep, either," she admits. "I wanted to go check on you, but…"

He nods in understanding. "I know," he assures her. "I know. Listen, this doesn't change anything. If you still don't want Stefan to know…"

She sighs, squeezes her eyes shut. "I don't know what I want anymore," she whispers. "It's going to be so hard, pretending like we hardly know each other." She opens her eyes, searches his own for a moment. She knows she's hurting him, knows that it's really not fair that he has to suffer like this just because she's too afraid to face her own mistakes. "Let me talk to him," she murmurs. "Let me test the waters, and we'll go from there."

He nods again. "Okay," he agrees. He leans in closer, kisses her one more time. He sighs heavily. "I should probably get back to bed, before Ric comes to check on me or something. I don't think he'd be too pleased about me hanging out in your bed with you," he smirks.

She can't help but smile. "Go get some sleep," she tells him, kisses his cheek. "I'll see you in the morning."

He kisses her again, pulls himself away from her. He sits up, looks down at her, reaches over to push a stray hair behind her ear. "We'll figure this out," he promises.

She nods, and then he tip-toes out the door. She knows he's right - they'll figure it out - but she has this sinking feeling like everything's about to come to a head, and she's not sure where the chips will fall when it does. And the worst part is that, whatever happens, she'll only have herself to blame.

… … …

Waking up in the Gilbert house is strange. Stefan hasn't slept here since he was probably seven or eight, back when he and Elena used to have sleepovers. He never used to think anything of it, the fact that he was a boy and she was a girl, he remembers. She was just Elena, his best friend. She was never anything more than that, but their parents decided at some point that it was better not to chance it. He smirks to himself, wants to laugh. He loves her, but like a sister. He shudders at the idea that anyone ever thought they'd be more than that.

He gets dressed before he trudges down the stairs for breakfast. He normally wouldn't at home, but he's also never lived with a girl before, so he's not sure what the protocol is. He's pretty certain, though, that Ric wouldn't appreciate him walking around the house in his underwear, so he'll just play it safe. But when he gets downstairs, Damon's leaning against the kitchen counter eating a bowl of cereal with no shirt on, his pajama pants hanging low on his hips, and Stefan scowls.

"Really?" he scoffs. "You couldn't even put a shirt on?"

Damon just smirks. "Ric told us to make ourselves at home," he reminds him.

Stefan just rolls his eyes and sits down at the kitchen table, where Ric is serving his patented Saturday breakfast. "You should've waited," he says to his brother, nodding toward his bowl of cereal. "Ric makes the best Saturday breakfast spread you've ever had."

"Please," Damon chuckles. "This is just the appetizer. I'll have plenty of room for Ric's breakfast, don't you worry, little brother."

"Just make sure you leave enough for Elena," Ric warns. "She'll have both your heads if there's no bacon left when she and Jenna get back from the store."

Damon rolls his eyes, turns to his brother. "They went grocery shopping to make sure they have enough food to feed us."

"You don't need to do that," Stefan insists, looking at Ric.

"Trust me," Ric chuckles. "We did. Jenna knows what feeding a teenage boy looks like, and now we have two of them living in our house. We need more than just ice cream and pretzels to sustain you two."

Stefan opens his mouth to argue just as Jenna and Elena come through the front door and into the kitchen, each carrying a few bags. "Oh good, you're up," Jenna says brightly. "Perfect timing. We could use some help with the groceries, if you boys don't mind."

"Of course not," Stefan says hastily.

"I'm not done with my cereal," Damon complains.

"Damon," Stefan says through his teeth. Jesus Christ, his brother can be such a pain in the ass.

"Okay, okay," Damon relents, rolling his eyes. "But if it's soggy when we come back, it's your fault, Stefan."

When they're outside, Stefan pulls Damon around the side of the house, glares at him. "What is wrong with you?"

Damon's brow furrows in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"You're acting like an ass," Stefan spits. "They're being nice enough to let us stay with them, and you're acting like you haven't just waltzed into their house for the first time in five years."

Damon rolls his eyes. "Listen. It might have been a while for me, but they used to be our second family, Stefan," he reminds him. "They know us. They care about us, or they wouldn't be letting us stay with them. Hell, they went grocery shopping just so they could feed us." He crosses his arms over his chest. "You don't have to tip-toe around like you're inconveniencing them."

"Yeah, well," Stefan narrows his eyes, "The least you can do is show a little bit of remorse. You and I may be on better terms, but I'm not so sure how Elena's gonna feel about this."

"I doubt she'll mind too much," Damon smirks. "I'll be sure to stay out of her way."

Something about the way he says it, the look in his eye… Stefan gets a strange feeling like they're not really on the same page here. Like Damon knows something he doesn't. He shakes it off, because there's really no way he knows anything about Elena that Stefan wouldn't. They don't even speak to one another.

"Just try to be a little more considerate," Stefan hisses as Elena and Jenna come down the front path.

"You two get lost on the way to the car?" Jenna teases.

Elena grabs a few bags from the open trunk of Jenna's SUV, including a particularly full one that she seems to struggle with. Damon moves to take it from her. "Let me help you with that."

She just smirks at him. "I'm not some weak little girl," she laughs. "I can handle it."

"I'm trying to be a gentleman," Damon teases.

And Stefan's confused, watching their interaction, because the way she's speaking to him, laughing with him… it's like nothing ever happened. He knows when Elena is forcing herself to be nice, figured he'd see a lot of it in the coming days, but that's obviously not the case. They almost seem friendly.

He shakes his head. He must be going insane. She would have told him if she'd made peace with Damon. Right?

(Suddenly, he's not so sure.)

Later, when Damon's left to go hang out with Enzo, he finds Elena watching a mindless reality show in the living room, and he plops down next to her.

"Is it weird?" he wonders. "Having people in the house with you other than Jenna and Ric?"

"No," she laughs. "You practically live here, anyway." She clears her throat, and her eyes soften, just a little bit. "Plus, I'm glad you're here. Both of you. I was worried about you, in that big house with your dad, and your mom gone…" she shudders.

He purses his lips, decides to take the opening. "Speaking of Damon," he begins. "You two seem… good."

Elena's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, then furrow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean… after everything that's happened between you two… you're just being so nice to him. He doesn't deserve it."

She rolls her eyes. "We're living under the same roof, Stefan. After everything you two have been through, I'm not gonna pile on by dredging up the past."

"He doesn't deserve it," Stefan repeats, narrowing his eyes. "Not after the way he treated you."

"I've seen the way things have changed between you two," Elena counters. "Why would you be upset that I'm being civil with him?"

"You're more than civil," he insists. "It's like you're friends."

"Maybe we are," she blurts. "Why would that be such a bad thing? You two are friends now, right?"

He sits back a little in surprise. What the hell does that mean? "We have a common enemy," he corrects her. "I wouldn't say that makes us friends."

Elena rolls her eyes. "You can tell yourself whatever you want, Stefan, but things are changing and you know it." She turns off the television, turns to face him. "For the sake of this arrangement being as comfortable for everyone as possible, I've chosen to put the past behind me and move on. It's not my fault that even after everything that's happened this year, you still can't seem to do the same."

And as she stands up, walks away from him without looking back, he wonders how more than anyone, she can see right through him, every single time.

… … …

She won't lie: Stefan's questioning today made her nervous. She had a feeling this would happen. She's never been very good at hiding the way she truly feels, and it's even more difficult when she feels the way she does about Damon. They're so far away from where they used to be; now that she knows the truth, now that she understands what happened so long ago, how can she pretend she doesn't?

So she meets Caroline and Bonnie at the Grill for dinner, because if she's ever needed some serious girl talk, it's now.

"I'm sorry," Caroline says, "I know the circumstances aren't great, but you are so lucky."

Elena rolls her eyes. "The Salvatore brothers are not all they're cracked up to be, Caroline," she laughs.

"Says the girl who's best friends with one and fell in love with the other," Caroline smirks.

Elena frowns. Is she in love with Damon? She doesn't think she is right now, but she definitely sees the potential, thinks it could be headed in that direction. Which makes it all the more imperative for her to figure this out before things get messy.

"Speaking of which," Elena continues, ignoring Caroline's wide eyes at her lack of denial, "Stefan's getting suspicious, and I don't know what to do."

"Um." Caroline just stares at her. "Tell him?"

Elena rolls her eyes. "Be serious, Caroline."

"I am," Caroline laughs incredulously. "Come on, Elena, isn't that the obvious solution? Just get it over with, and then you can stop worrying about it all the damn time."

"I don't know why you expected us to say anything different than what we've been telling you for months," Bonnie shrugs.

"And how exactly am I supposed to tell him?" Elena snaps. "'Hey, Stefan, we're having spaghetti for dinner. Oh, and by the way, I've been tutoring your brother and we've kissed a few times.' That should do the trick, right?"

Bonnie rolls her eyes. "You're being dramatic," she says.

"Here's the thing," Caroline says definitively, demanding Elena's attention. "You need to ask yourself what's more important to you. Because the way you've set it up, you're going to have to choose. Stefan or Damon."

Elena blanches, her eyes wide. "It shouldn't have to be that way," she insists.

"But it is," Caroline says. "Because you've made it that way. So now you have to decide. Think of it this way: you either tell Stefan what's going on or you break up with Damon." Elena pales, and Caroline narrows her eyes pointedly. "Do you want to break up with Damon, Elena?"

Elena closes her eyes, lets out a long breath. "No."

"Then you need to tell Stefan what's going on," Caroline finishes. "Because eventually Damon's gonna get tired of sitting around and waiting for you, and then you'll end up losing both of them."

She's right. For once, Elena can see the merit in Caroline's logic. Honestly, it's everything she's been thinking, but could never bring herself to acknowledge before. Now, she has no choice; everything is coming to a head, and it's happening more quickly than she ever thought it would. It won't be long before she'll be at a crossroads, and then she'll have to choose.

Stefan or Damon?

Friendship, or… love?

(The question isn't which one she wants more. It's which one she's more afraid to lose.)

… … …

Caroline wakes up on Sunday morning feeling like she needs to make amends with Stefan. She originally thought she'd just approach him at his locker on Monday, but then she realizes they have the week off for Thanksgiving, and she doesn't know when her next chance to see him will be. She knows he's been through a lot, managed to get most of the story out of Elena, and considering how their last conversation went… well, it's just time to put that behind them. She's been worried about him, and she wants him to know that.

She's glad that he answers the door at the Gilbert house, because she really didn't think through how she would've explained herself to Elena. It's a good thing she doesn't have to.

He steps onto the front porch, closes the door behind him before he speaks. "Hi."

"Hi," she repeats. She smiles. "How are you?"

It feels horribly inadequate and ridiculous, but he just smirks a little. "I'm alright, all things considered."

She smiles sadly. "Elena told me what happened," she informs him. "I kind of forced her."

Stefan sighs, and his shoulders sag just a little bit. He motions to the porch swing. "Wanna sit?"

She nods and they sit down next to each other, and he's so close to her she can feel the heat of his arm next to hers. God, even after everything that's happened, she can't deny the effect he has on her.

"I've been worried about you," she starts. "I know you might not believe that, coming from me, but it's true. I had a feeling something was going on, but when Elena finally told me…"

He shakes his head. "Don't. It's fine."

"It's not fine, Stefan," she breathes out. "It's horrible, and no one should ever have to go through that, especially not with a parent. Two parents." He won't look at her, so she studies his profile instead. "I'm glad you're okay, though."

He seems to accept her words without argument, but he doesn't respond, and she figures he just needs time to process. They sit in silence for a few moments, and she's surprised how comfortable it feels, just sitting next to him, the porch swing rocking back and forth and the breeze tinkling the wind chime hanging by the door.

"I wanted to apologize," Stefan says eventually.

Caroline opens her mouth, closes it, tries to formulate her thoughts before she responds. "So did I."

"No, let me go first," he insists. He draws in a long breath, lets it out slowly. "I've been thinking a lot about what you said, and I realized that you're right. Because I don't know if I ever told you what an effect you had on me, so how could you have known?"

She can feel her jaw hanging open, and she tries to close it, but her facial muscles seem to have decided to stop working. Wonderful.

"You told me you wanted to be with me," he continues, "And honestly, I wanted to be with you, too. More than you know. But I thought you needed time to heal, time to move on before we could start something new. Not to mention that selfishly, I was afraid of being your rebound. Because you already meant more to me than that." He turns to look at her. "And I know it's too late, and that it doesn't change anything because you have Klaus now, but I wish I could take that back."

She can't say there have been many times in her life when she's been stunned into silence. But the fact that he felt something for her, maybe even the same things she felt for him? She doesn't even know where to begin to respond to that. It's not too late, her mind screams at her. Tell him it's not too late.

He starts speaking again before she gets the chance. "So I figured maybe we should start over."

"Start over?" Oh, now her mouth decides to start working. She furrows her brow in confusion.

"Yeah," he confirms. "From the beginning. I'd rather be friends with you than nothing at all."

Friends.

She has a flicker of a thought that maybe this is because he thinks that she's with Klaus, when in reality she's not. She doesn't even like the guy half the time, and yeah, they have great sex, but she's not afraid to admit that she's been using him to help her get over Stefan. (It hasn't worked, for the record.) But if this is what he wants, then she has to agree with him: she'd rather be friends with him than nothing at all.

"Friends," she muses.

"Friends," he repeats. "I think that's a pretty good place to start, don't you?"

She doesn't really have a choice, does she? So she smiles at him. "Friends sounds perfect."

… … …

"Do you hear that?"

Elena looks up from her textbook, furrows her brow in confusion. "What?"

Damon smirks. "The silence."

Elena rolls her eyes, can't help but smile just a little. It's Monday evening, and they're home alone for the first time all weekend. She suggested they take advantage of the time to squeeze in a tutoring session. Damon keeps dropping hints that he wants to take advantage of the time for other things.

"Come on," he whines. "I feel like I haven't been alone with you in so long. Why won't you let me enjoy this?"

"Because," Elena laughs. "If I know you at all, your definition of 'enjoy' is a makeout session on the couch that could easily get us caught if someone comes home."

Damon's eyes sparkle with mischief. "That's a risk I'm willing to take, darlin'."

Elena smirks at him. "Damon."

"Elena." He pulls her textbook out of her hands, and she wants to protest, but she also really wants to kiss him, so. "Come on. Study break."

He scoots in close, leans in so their lips are just a breath away from one another. "Just a short one," she breathes.

And then his hands are in her hair and his lips on her on hers, and it feels like it's been forever since she kissed him like this. She knows the secrecy and the sneaking around must be difficult for him, but she's starting to realize that it's taking a toll on her, too. She wants to be able to do things like this with him without worrying about who might walk through the door.

It's a good thing Damon knows just how to distract her.

She gets lost in the way their lips move together, the way their tongues tangle together, the way he can't seem to decide where to put his hands; tangled in her hair, or pressing into the small of her back, or cradling her face. She feels hot, too hot, and it doesn't take long before she's on her back beneath him, his lips trailing down her neck and his hand sneaking up underneath her shirt. And then, of course, the alarm bells go off in her head, and she inwardly curses herself.

"Damon." She tries to get his attention, but it comes out as more of a gasp than anything. She can feel this escalating out of her control quickly, and she needs to stop him before she panics. "Damon."

He rears back like he's been slapped, and he holds himself over her, putting some distance between their bodies. She watches as his eyes search hers, as some of the fog clears and he comes back to himself. He closes them, takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. "Sorry," he whispers.

"Don't be," she says quietly, reaching up to trail her fingers over the worry lines on his forehead. She wishes she could explain to him why she hits a wall when they get to a certain point, but she's not even really sure what the answer is. Sure, she's nervous, because he's far more experienced than she is, and because she knows he wants certain things with her that she's not quite ready to give him. But she trusts him, and she feels like maybe that should be enough, wonders why it doesn't seem to be enough for her. "I'm sorry," she repeats back to him.

"No," he insists, "listen." He pulls himself off of her completely, turns to sit facing her like they were before. He takes her hand in his, and she feels the butterflies erupt in her stomach. "I get it. You're not ready. And I know we haven't had that talk yet, that discussion about where our boundaries are, but you don't have to apologize to me for letting me know. I want to know."

"I just…" her cheeks redden just a bit and she wants to roll her eyes at herself. "I know you have certain expectations, and I…"

"Hey." He tips her chin up so that her eyes meet his. "I don't expect anything from you. Okay? That's not… that's not why I'm with you. I…" He seems to stop himself, rethink his approach, backtrack. "I like you a lot," he finishes.

"I like you a lot, too," she teases.

He smiles. "Then that's enough for me."

She doesn't really know what to say to that, so she just smiles back at him, leans in to kiss him sweetly. Then she lays her head on his shoulder, and his arm comes around her shoulders to hold her close to him. She lets out a long breath, and it takes her a minute to collect her thoughts, but she knows they need to acknowledge what's become evident this weekend.

"Stefan's getting suspicious," she murmurs.

He nods against the top of her head. "I know," he agrees.

She opens her mouth to say something else, but there's a knock at the door, and she closes it again, rolls her eyes. "Hold that thought." She kisses his cheek quickly as she stands to go answer the door.

And when she does, she feels her jaw drop open in shock. "Katherine?"

She doesn't know who she expected to see, but her absentee older sister was not even remotely within the realm of possibility.

"Surprise, surprise," Katherine smirks. "Happy Thanksgiving, little sister."

… … …