During Caroline's absence, Stefan and Alaric decided to attempt poking through Elena's memories. It was in their best interest, they figured, to discover what she remembered and what she had forgotten. If they weren't careful, she could figure out she had been compelled. She was already suspicious. She knew she was missing pieces of her memory, though she could not piece together exactly what or why.

Elena remembered a great deal, but seemed to have no trace of memory of Damon. Stefan attempted to figure out what she knew. He spoke to Elena for a while. As casually as he could, he began to speak.

"Well, I should probably give my brother a call one of these days," Stefan mused, "just to see how he's been." He watched Elena's reaction carefully.

"You have a brother?!" she practically shouted, "Stefan, I've known you for years, we've dated, and you never thought to mention you have a brother?" she was incredulous.

Stefan shrugged his shoulders and attempted to remain neutral.

"You've never heard me mention him?" he inquired.

Elena scrunched up her face, searching desperately through her memory.

"Am I supposed to remember him?" she asked suspiciously.

"I suppose not," he answered. Elena remained quiet for a few moments.

"I don't know, Stefan. Everything seems so foggy. I think about the past and so much of it doesn't seem to make sense. Like I'm missing memories, or something," she tilted her head to the side. He felt a pang in his chest. Guilt, bearing heavily upon his already burdened and weary soul. She sighed.

"Anyway, I'd love to meet him. I'm sure he's as good, charming, and kind as you," she smiled.

"Something like that," he smirked. At this, Alaric, who had remained silent through the conversation, stifled a laugh. He attempted to play it off as a coughing fit. Elena didn't buy it.

"Do you know his brother?" her eyes turned to him.

"We've met once or twice," he responded, feigning disinterest.

"Really, Stefan? Alaric met your brother and I didn't even know you had one?" she appeared almost hurt that Stefan withheld information from her. Stefan and Alaric exchanged glances without responding to her inquiry. She spoke again.

"Well, I'd love to meet him sometime. Whoever he is," she grumbled.

"Damon," Stefan said.

"What?" she replied.

"His name," he repeated, "It's Damon."

"Damon," she stated softly. For a moment, she appeared very far away. The guilt in his heart heightened when she said his name. It sounded foreign and unfamiliar in her mouth, as if she was talking about a stranger. It sounded nothing like how she usually said his name, sometimes full of anger, sometimes frustration, but usually full of admiration and love.

Stefan glanced at the clock on the wall. Caroline had been gone for quite some time now, and his stomach twisted with worry and perhaps even a twinge of jealousy. He contemplated leaving to search for her.

Meanwhile, Caroline was sitting on a wall, facing the ocean, with Klaus beside her. They had gone to a restaurant, taken a stroll along the boardwalk, and now sat side-by-side in silence. Caroline sighed. She liked Klaus, but something was missing.

"You're thinking about him again," Klaus broke her reverie.

"Who?" Caroline asked innocently.

"Stefan," Klaus replied. He didn't sound hurt or angry, merely like he was stating a fact. Caroline bit her lower lip but said nothing.

"The last time we met, I made you a promise," Klaus continued, "I vowed never to return."

"I asked you to come," she replied softly. The wind blew a wisp of hair in her eyes. He gently tucked it behind her ear.

"Out of desperation," he grinned. She couldn't help but smile back.

"But I want you to know, our bargain still stands," he continued. Her blue eyes flashed up at him. She thought their bargain was permanently broken the minute she chose to reach out to him for help. Her heart pounded, tearing in two. With him gone, she might have a chance at happiness. Her heart could finally become whole again. Maybe. With Stefan.

The sun had begun to set, tinging the ocean waves with hues of pink and purple.

"But, I..." she couldn't complete her thought.

"Of course you'll miss me, love," he supplied, "but I have a life of my own in New Orleans. Just like you have a life of your own, here," he spoke uncharacteristically gently.

In a flash, his lips pressed against hers. She kissed him back, willingly. His hands traced circles on her shoulders, causing her skin to develop goose bumps anywhere he touched. She was kissing him recklessly, the way she had that day in the forest. There was something freeing about being with him. Knowing she could kiss him like this with no strings attached, that he would leave and she could return to life as she knew it, as if this had never happened. He broke away from her embrace and grinned.

"Besides, I have an eternity to win your heart forever. I'm a patient man. I can wait." She blinked and he vanished.

Back at the motel, Alaric volunteered to go on a walk with Elena. He and Stefan agreed it was in her best interest to get some fresh air. Alaric, however, had motives of his own.

Made by the Original Witch, Alaric was aware his powers extended beyond that of the average vampire. He didn't know, however, just how much power he had. He had intentionally not volunteered to compel Elena's memories away because he didn't know if he had that kind of power, but also because he didn't agree with the whole idea. Damon had been one of his best friends. He wouldn't have wanted this, which is why Alaric needed to do what he was about to do. As they walked, he made eye contact with Elena.

"Elena," he said firmly, "pick up that rock." He gestured toward a stone on the sidewalk. She tilted her head at time.

"Why?" she asked, clearly confused by his tone. Realization dawned in her eyes, "Alaric, are you trying to compel me?" she sounded infuriated.

"I was just trying to see if I could," he shuffled awkwardly.

"Well, you could've asked!" she cried, "I'm not just something you can whisk away and conduct experiments on!" her voice raised with anger.

He attempted fruitlessly to calm her down, but to no avail. She spun on her heel, and stomped back towards the motel room. Alaric sighed. He was upset that he had pissed off Elena, but even more upset that it hadn't worked. He couldn't compel her. He would not be able to compel her memories of Damon back into her head.

Elena returned to the motel to find that her stuff had been moved into her own room. She was relieved. Her friends had been acting strange and her head pounded from trying so hard to remember. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Her memory was littered with gaps and blank spaces, as if something, something very important, had been torn from her memories. Like she had been compelled to forget...

Compelled.

The word bounced around her head like the beams of a flashing red light. Had someone compelled her to forget something? Had Alaric tried to compel her to see if he could compel her memories back? But, if someone compelled her to forget something, why hadn't her friends simply told her? At least then she wouldn't feel so lost and confused.

An idea struck her like a bolt of lightning.

"My journal!" she practically shouted out loud. She began to dig through her belongings, strewing clothes across the floor. They could compel her memories from her mind, but not from her journal. She wrote down everything. If a memory was powerful enough that someone went through the trouble to make her forget it, she certainly would have recorded it in her journal...

Stefan sat in the lobby of the motel on an old couch sipping a glass of red wine. A fire burned in the fireplace. The lobby was less like a lobby, and more like a shabby living room. No employees manned the front desk, no bellhop waited at the door to greet vacationers. As a matter of fact, Stefan had compelled the employees to go home. It was best that nobody, guests or employees, stayed at the hotel besides them. The sun had long since set, and he was worried about Caroline. He considered going out there and looking for her, but he knew she wouldn't appreciate that. She was strong, and perfectly capable of caring for herself.

The old wooden door to the lobby creaked open. A dainty silhouette filled the door frame before entering the dimly lit room. Caroline.

Stefan breathed a sigh of relief, as she gracefully strode across the room in his direction. She plopped down on the couch beside him. After a few moments, he broke the silence.

"How was your date?"

"Well, he's gone," she sighed, hardly a response to his question, but he let it slide. He poured her a glass of the red wine he'd been sipping, and offered it to her. She took it gratefully. She drained it with a speed only a vampire could muster, and poured herself another. They were sitting close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off of her. It dizzied him, or perhaps that was the wine. He remembered what Lexi said to him on the Other Side.

"Caroline, I have something to tell you," he breathed. Their faces were close, only inches apart. Her blue eyes met his amber ones. She drew a finger up to his lips.

"Shh...don't speak," she whispered. He leaned in, and felt the pressure of her soft lips against his. She let herself totally unravel in his arms. He tasted bitter and sweet, like red wine, with a coppery hint, like he'd fed recently.

Cautiously, she moved her hands under his shirt, allowing herself to explore a little. She was in a blue sun dress, so he moved his hands more modestly, sliding them down her sides to rest on her hips. She felt dizzy and giggly, the wine had definitely kicked in.

He drew back and so did she.

"Caroline, we can't do this right now," he slurred with a grin. I guess I drank more than I thought, he thought.

"Why?" she giggled.

"Because we're tipsy," he found himself laughing, too. She brushed her lips up against his cheek, and with vampire speed, skipped out of the lobby and up the stairs. He smiled to himself. Lexi was definitely right. But then again, wasn't she always? His heart ached. He missed her. And Bonnie. And of course, Damon.

Suddenly, the door of the lobby flung open. The dark silhouette of a broad man filled the frame, alongside the silhouette of a petite young woman.

"Hello, brother," grinned the man, as he stepped into the light.