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The ride back to the Manor was silent.

I could feel the energy radiating from Damon, as he fought the urge to speak whatever was running through his mind.

I knew he was upset.

I could feel that.

But I couldn't help it.

He'd known this was coming.

I'd never lied, or hidden my intent.

He would just have to get over it.

He pulled up to the front of the house and parked.

He didn't say a word to me as he got out and slammed the door.

I sighed, then followed after him.

No need in letting him take out his anger at me on the unsuspecting others.

"Damon," I called, as I followed him into the house, "Damon!"

He blew through the front doors, and started up the stairs, nearly knocking over Tyler and Mason in the process.

"Dammit, you bastard, talk to me!" I demanded.

The command of my tone froze him.

He hesitated on the staircase, then whirled around, "So now you want to talk?"

He jumped over the ledge, landing in front of me.

I crossed my arms, "Yeah, I do. I've already screwed up enough for tonight, I don't want to-"

""The fact that the Mutt couldn't control his Change wasn't your fault," Damon insisted, his anger cooling momentarily to defend me.

"Yeah, it was," I insisted, "I fucked up."

Damon's head was shaking, "He was a ticking time bomb. We couldn't have known that-."

"No, you're not listening to me!"

I took a step closer to him, "Damon, I'm the ticking time bomb! We both are."

His eyebrows furrowed, and I hurried to continue.

"Neither of us called back-up because we were too concerned with looking after one another. How many times do we have to prove that we don't think clearly when we're around each other?"

He started to shake his head, but I pressed my point, "People are dead, Damon. They died because we let ourselves lose control of the situation."

"What does it matter?" He shot, "We got him. He's not going to kill again."

"I'm talking about us," I reminded him, "Look, I have a life back in New York, and it's a good life. It's my life."

"Keep telling yourself that," he spat, then pushed past me, towards the library.

If I'd been less worked up, I might have noticed the audience we'd acquired.

However, they were easy to ignore as I followed after him.

"You'll find the wolf that turned the Mutt," I called, "And you'll punish him, but you don't need me."

He disappeared through the far doorway, "Keep telling yourself that too!"

It took everything in my limited willpower not to grab the nearest heavy object and chunk it at his retreating figure.

Alaric, who'd come in at some point, strode over to me.

"You okay?"

I didn't even know how to begin answering that question.

"I take it the Mutt is dead?"

I nodded, "He Changed. I couldn't stop it. Two people died...but yeah, he's dead. A jeep caught him as he tried to escape."

Alaric nodded, and studied my face, as I was still focused on the door Damon had left out of

After a moment, Ric sighed, "He's not the only one that needs you, Elena. We all do."

I blinked back the tears that had sprung to my eyes, and turned to look at my Alpha.

"But this isn't what I need."

A saddened look flooded his expression, but he seemed to accept my words.

He sighed, "Elena, look, there's something you should know, about the day Damon bit you-"

"No, there's not," I cut him off, "Nothing can change what happened, Ric. I wish it were different, but it's not. But you...you've been one of the good things in all of this...the closest thing to a father that I have."

His expression was saddened, like he knew what was coming.

"I came back because you asked me to," I told him, "I can't say no when you call. So I'm asking you not to...because I'm going back to New York, first thing in the morning, and I don't want to have to come back anytime soon."

I took a shaky breath, "This isn't just so I can find myself, either. My life is there now."

I placed a hand on his shoulder, "Just...take care of him, okay?"

Alaric nodded, then pulled me into a hug.

"We'll miss you."

I closed my eyes, "Yeah. Me too."

I laid in bed that night, waiting for sleep to take me.

It didn't.

My flight had been booked, and my bag was packed up.

Tomorrow I'd be back in New York.

I could pretend that this had never happened, and things would finally be normal.

So why did I feel like crying?

I didn't want any of this, I never had.

So why did I know just how much I'd miss it once I was gone?

It wasn't fair.

I tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position.

The guys had all heard my fight with Damon, my words to Alaric.

They weren't happy about it, but they wouldn't stop me from leaving.

I was getting exactly what I wanted, right?

I was so burrowed in my thoughts, I almost didn't hear my door creak open.

I sat up, as someone entered the room, clicking the lock behind them.

His scent hit me before anything else.

Whiskey, leather, and dark spice.

Damon.

"Don't," he whispered, as I opened my mouth.

He crawled up onto the bed, "Don't send me away...if tonight's all I have left with you...just don't."

The light of the moon outside gave me enough illumination to make out his face now.

His eyes were empty, his features tired, all traces of his earlier anger forgotten.

He wore no clothes, of course, because like most wolves, he preferred sleeping undressed.

Unhindered by the shreds of humanity.

I sighed.

Knowing it would be my last night here, it was pretty clear what he wanted.

What those blue orbs were silently asking for.

If I was smart, I would have sent him back to his room.

But it was Damon, and when it came to him, the word "smart" evaded my internal vocabulary.

So, without asking for the confirmation, I reached over and pulled him to me.

I should have known better.

Damn me, I should have.

But as his lips pressed softly into mine, and he rolled me onto my back, I couldn't find it in me to care.

My clothes were gone in seconds, Damon's hands replacing them, warm against my skin.

We kissed, and touched, and held each other, rolling around on the mattress, until finally, he pushed into me.

I buried my head in his shoulder, letting his scent surround me, cover me, as he moved.

His thrusts were slow, lazy, stretching out the moment as long as possible, before consenting to its bitter end.

For Damon, this was an effort.

He was a wolf in nature, his primal needs above any human emotion.

Usually, we fucked.

We were good at fucking.

In the woods, in the creek, in his bed, on the couch in the den, in my bed, in shady hotels. ..we had that part of our relationship down flawlessly.

No one fucked like Damon.

He was the only male I'd ever consented control to.

The only one I let take over my body completely.

Hot, fast, hard...he was every woman's fantasy.

But this...

In the rare moments he let his humanity through, he did it for me.

He slowed down, focused more on the intimacy than the end result.

He made love to me.

I locked my legs around his waist, keeping him impossibly close.

His lips trailed all over my face and neck, his breath a teasing warmth.

"Stay," he whispered.

I closed my eyes, "I can't."

He thrusted deeper, "Stay with me."

I shook my head.

He kissed me.

We continued the mantra, neither of us winning, neither of us building to a climax.

Just the endless feeling of him inside me, him above me, all over my body.

It was going to be the end of me.

He was going to be the end of me.

The emotions raged in my mind, and moved me to physical action.

With a rough hand, I pushed him away.

Damon complied, pulling back, and I didn't pause before flipping my body.

He was behind me now, as I settled onto all fours.

This was easier than thinking, than dealing with any matters of the heart.

This could just be about the pleasure.

Knees set, back arched, ass in the air.

I was his for the taking, submitting to his wolf like a bitch in heat.

"Elena-" His voice was pained.

He didn't want this any more than I did.

But he wouldn't say no either.

"Just do it," I commanded, my throat thick.

He sighed, and a tear fell from my eye as he pushed into me.

For everything we'd lost, and can no longer have.

It wasn't gentle.

But then, I hadn't expected it to be.

As I'd expected, Damon's instinct took over, and he used me.

My face fell into the pillows as I was finally able to relax, under him, my body absorbing each of his thrusts.

The bed rocked under our impact.

Damon fucked me to the brink of pleasure, and growled deeply as I came, milking his cock.

His speed increased to a bruising pace.

I shivered in my climax, all the emotions from the night leaking free.

His mouth found my shoulder; his teeth sank deep.

I cried out.

Damon came.

We laid in the dark after it was over, neither of us willing to restart the argument from before, or admit the mistake that we'd just made.

The silence stretched, as Damon's fingers trailed my arm.

Up and down. Up and down.

He did this without thought, his breath deepening.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to kick and yell, and throw him out so I could wallow in self loathing all on my own.

But my hands clung to him, as if refusing to give him up just yet.

My body was drawn into his, and my muscles were more relaxed now than they'd been in months.

I didn't want to think about what that meant, because it wasn't fair.

I was leaving in the morning.

And neither Damon's breath in my hair, or arms around my waist, were going to change that.

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