Chapter 8
Damon didn't sleep much. Vampires could sleep, they did sleep, but not often. They didn't need a whole lot of rest. His usual reason for sleeping was to escape something going on he didn't feel like dealing with. That was probably why he fell asleep that evening- he was tired of thinking about the situation.
He woke up feeling rather warm and cozy. He didn't remember getting under the covers but here they were, thrown over him. Snuggled down next to him, he found Emma sleeping soundly. He KNEW she hadn't been there when he'd fallen asleep. He wondered if this was a good sign that things had gone well with Jake. He doubted it but thinking about Jake made his head hurt so he decided to go with it for the moment.
He decided he could use more rest. He laid his head back down, his lips brushing her forehead slightly. Closing his eyes, he breathed in her scent, letting the calm peace she filled him with settle over him. The only word that could describe how he felt in that moment was...content.
Damon noticed the difference in her breathing pattern just before he lulled into sleep. She was waking up. He leaned back a bit to look at her. Sleepy hazel eyes blinked up at him, unfocused. "What time is it?" She mumbled, her voice hoarse from sleeping.
"Time to go back to bed." He crushed her against his chest and rolled sideways to block her view of the clock. She giggled but didn't struggle. They laid in silence for a few moments, Damon concentrating on sound of her heartbeat. It was slow and steady; strong and even. Comforting.
"Stefan told me." She broke the silence suddenly. Damon's muscles tensed. She didn't say it loud, but she couldn't have whispered it and he would have still heard her.
"Told you?" Damon asked, though he was pretty sure he knew what she meant.
"About what happened with Jake," she clarified. Silence again.
"That was-" Damon started. She cut him off.
"A long time ago."
"Yea." That wasn't what he was going to say but he went with it. "I don't have an explanation." He tensed subconsciously, waiting for her to attack or accuse him. There was no way she would just forgive him.
"I know." She whispered. Silence.
He couldn't stand it any longer. "So?" Damon felt her look up at him in the dark. He didn't look down at her. Her breath on his neck was warm but it make the skin tingle. He ignored the feeling.
"So I know. I get it, I understand why Jake doesn't like you." Her voice was matter-of-fact and final. There was no 'but' attached to the end of it. He frowned.
"That's it?" Now he did look down at her. "You know that I killed your brother's girlfriend and all you have to say is 'I get it'?" His voice began to rise with anger. At first he wasn't sure why he was mad.
She sat up in the bed. In the dark he could see her clearly, her brow knit in confusion as she looked down at him. Through his anger, he couldn't focus on anything more. "Why are you mad?"
He chuckled humorlessly, getting up on one elbow and facing her. "Mad? I'm not mad. I'm furious." He felt the look in his eye turn deadly but for her part, Emma's expression didn't change. That just fueled his fire. Luckily for her, she didn't speak.
"I am furious at the fact that you are still here, after everything you know. What's wrong with you? I am a killer, I've killed countless people, including five in your house today. You are not safe with me." He hissed, shoving his face into hers in a threatening manner. He finally saw what he was looking for; a shadow of fear passed through her eyes. But, she didn't back down either.
"Stop." She whispered, her face changing over to her own angry look. "You're being rid-"
"I'm not!" Damon roared, jumping up, throwing a shirt on and heading for the door. What in the hell had been going through his mind the last week? How could he ever be anything different than the monster he had always been? How could he love a girl, a human, that deserved a whole lot better than him? There was nothing evil about Emma and all he did was corrupt everything he touched. The memory of what he did to Jake's girlfriend all those years ago reminded him of that. He had been foolish.
He left her in his bed, hoping she'd be frightened or angry enough to leave and find another room. As it was, he would probably just sit on the couch for the rest of the night, lost in his misery. In the sitting room he poured some more bourbon and gulped down the whole glass. It dimmed the anger slightly but not enough for him to relax.
"Why so angry?" Stefan's voice startled him. Damon didn't get surprised often but he'd been so wrapped up in his tantrum that he didn't realize his brother was already in the room.
"Like you care," was his response. Damon's temper tended to make him lash out at any one close by. He knew this; he also didn't care.
"Well, I wouldn't have said anything if I didn't." Stefan pointed out in his maddeningly logical way. Damon wanted to strangle him. He poured himself another drink instead. "Girl trouble?"
Damon glared over his glass at his brother who was actually smiling. That bastard was happy Damon was angry. What kind of twisted game was going on in Stefan's head? Wasn't that usually his job, to be the twisted one?
"Why did you tell her?"
Stefan paused, considering Damon. "She asked." He finally said. It was the truth- Damon thought Stefan was incapable of lying.
"Just as well." Damon huffed, taking a drink. He sank into his chair, some of the fight leaving him as the drink began to kick in and calm him. "Though it didn't work."
"What didn't work?"
"The story. It didn't work." Damon stared into the dying fire, lost in his own head.
"What was it supposed to do? To work I mean?" Stefan asked.
"She's supposed to run away. She's supposed to be scared of me, tell me I'm a monster, and run." Damon took a long drink. "She should anyway, if she's smart."
Stefan shook his head, watching his brother. "She won't."
Damon made a face at him. "Like you know."
"I know."
Damon laughed, a short almost snort-like sound. "You know. Right."
"She loves you."
Damon shook his head. "She does not."
"Listen, I know when I see-"
"She does NOT." Damon stood, staring menacingly at his brother. Stefan couldn't be right because... well because Damon didn't want that to be true. He didn't deserve to be loved.
"What have you been playing at this last week?" Stefan stood, not backing down from Damon's overtly threatening manner. "You can't tell me you're hanging out with her because you want to be 'just friends.' I've seen you look at her, I know what that look means. Hell, you wouldn't have been so angry when you came down here if you didn't care about her. You can lie to yourself, Damon. You can't lie to me."
"I lie to you all the time." Damon commented offhandedly but he knew that wasn't what Stefan meant. Stefan ignored it.
"I think you're scared."
"What!" Damon was incredulous. "You're ins-"
"Scared. Because she found out and she didn't reject you like you thought she would. So you're scared." Stefan stepped toward him. "Trust me, I know. When Elena didn't reject me when she found out I was a vampire, I was tempted to just leave. Just go and never come back. Because what good can come of a human loving a vampire?"
Damon didn't respond except to take the last sip from his drink. He hated when Stefan had a point. Not that Damon would ever concede that to him.
"For some reason, Emma has always just seen the good parts in you. When ever she talks about you, that's all I hear about. And I think, 'you know, she's right, he is that way.' I just never notice it because you're always such a jerk ninety-five percent of the time." Stefan sighed. "But for some reason, you're that five percent good when you're with her and she brings that out in you. You're still a snarky son of a bitch but good hearted nonetheless."
Damon wasn't sure if he resented the fact that he was just called good hearted and snarky in the same sentence or the fact that he was just called a jerk but either way he couldn't let Stefan know he made sense. That wasn't in Damon's DNA. "Aw, that's so sweet." His pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. "I might actually feel an emotion after all that."
Stefan rolled his eyes, shaking his head helplessly. "Fine, I tried. I'm going to bed. Good night."
Damon watched him leave in silence. He was still angry but now it was directed inward. Stefan was totally right- what had he been playing at this past week? A human/vampire relationship could only end in one of three ways: he turned her, she got old and died, or he killed her. None of the three options appealed to him.
Sure, he turned people in the past. A lot of people. People he didn't care a lick about. At the time he usually just needed something, or it had been for the satisfaction of destroying a life. He didn't want that for Emma. She would have been better off if he'd just ignored her when they first met.
"But you didn't." She was in the doorway, looking at him. How had she known what he was thinking...
"I spoke aloud?" It was more a statement than a question but he thought he might have.
"You did." She walked toward him. He walked away, going to set his glass down across the room. She didn't follow him; she stopped where he had been standing a moment before.
"Well then I guess you know why I'm angry."
"It doesn't make sense, but yes, I guess I know."
"I should have better self control."
"You shouldn't have feelings." She added, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
"I shouldn't." He agreed.
"But you do." She gave a half hearted smile.
He shook his head, rolled his eyes, and sank onto the couch. "I don't know that I do." He rubbed his eyes with his palms.
Emma sat at the other end of the couch. "I think that you do."
"Apparently today is opposite day." He smirked at her. "You seem to think and say the opposite of everything I do."
"I just think you're being difficult." She sighed.
"I was actually trying to figure out how this was going to end. What was my game plan, how I thought it would all pan out. I didn't like any of the finales." Damon frowned, looking at the floor. "Plus, I don't think vampires are allowed to love."
"What about Stefan and Elena?" Emma suggested.
He shook his head. "Their ending? Tragic, no matter what."
"He could turn her." Emma scooted closer.
"He won't." Damon looked her in the eye. "He loves her too much."
"Too much to be with her for eternity?"
"That's the romanticized theory. Everyone gets so caught up in the 'forever' they forget the rest of the story." Damon turned back to the fire. "No longer human, feasting on blood, killing others for your survival. It's not all pancakes and fairy lights all the time." Shake his head he looked back to her. "You saw me tonight. It's brutal. Most of the time."
She laid down on the couch, sideways, also looking into the fire, resting her head in his lap gently. He knew he should push her off him, push her away, scare her into running but he didn't he couldn't bring himself to do it.
"He'll turn her." Emma said, referring to Stefan and Elena.
He reached down and brushed her hair behind her ears. "He won't."
"You evade my point." Emma reminded him. He made a face, looking over to the fire.
"So vampires can love. I'm just saying, it will end tragic, no matter what. Maybe that's the curse of it all. To be alone."
"He turns her, he's not alone."
"It's not that simple. He also destroys her. Turning someone doesn't mean they'll come out the same person on the other side. Sometimes the change, the blood, changes a person." Damon sighed, dozens of memories flooding through his head like a movie on fast forward. Countless lives, countless people, lost because of the change. It didn't seem worth the risk.
"So he stays with her."
"It's hard to watch someone grow old."
"You know from experience?"
"I've been told." Damon kept stroking her hair. It felt nice between his fingers. "Not sure I want to find out."
She turned, rolling backward to look up at him. "So the summation of this conversation is that I'm not worth the risk of loving because in the end I will be hurt one way or another."
Damon squinted one eye, considering her words before shaking his head. "No, you're totally worth it, I just don't know if I am."
She grinned that grin that made him feel funny. That feeling that reminded him of love. "Isn't that for me to decide?" she asked.
He didn't respond right away. Every bit of him wanted to scream 'no' at her but that little part of his head, the one that was always unreasonable, kept him from doing it.
"So starts a journey that can only end badly." He finally sighed, resigned. He was tired of fighting.
"According to you, Mr. Pessimist." Emma sat up then stood, offering a hand to him. "Don't be so cheery about it."
He took her hand, allowing her to help him up off the couch. "You know, they usually say to be careful what you wish for." He told her, standing close.
"Trust me, I know exactly what I wish for." She smiled, leaning close to his face. She put a finger to his lips before he could speak. "And no I'm not telling you because then it won't come true."
And before he could protest she pushed up on her tiptoes and began their first kiss. All fight left him with that one motion, that one confirmation of her desire to move forward. Arguments flew out of his head and the only thing that mattered in that moment was her, her lips, and being as close to her as possible.
"This can't end well." He whispered against her lips a moment later when his faculties returned to a place he could control them. "But it's beginning awesome."