CHAPTER 4

Damon was fuming with bottled up rage; all the while pacing the distance between the couch and the fireplace. He still couldn't believe what had just happened. Did Elena Gilbert -the quiet, calm and always so collected girl he'd been in love with- really just break his girlfriend neck, and throw him out of his own fucking room? The nerve the damned Doppelganger had! How dared she! Just because they hadn't changed the deed back under their –his and Stefan's- names, it didn't mean that she had the right to order him around; much less throw him out of his room. The next time he'd see her…

'You'll what? We both know you would never be capable of harming her,' his conscience mocked him smirking. Damon told it to shut the fuck up, and continued pacing. 'Admit it, Salvatore; even after three years, she still makes you weak on the knees, and makes you want to protect her' Damon shook his head and tightened his hold on the bourbon glass he had in his hand before throwing it directly into the fireplace, making its fire burn with more vivacity. He refused to believe that after everything Elena had put him through, he would still care for her in anyway. He didn't, he couldn't. No! He did not care about Elena anymore. He did not care if he hurt her, or not. He did notcare whether she lived or died. She could be staked right at this moment, and he would not care. Wanna know why? Because he didn't care about Elena, at all. 'Denial' the same internal voice said in a sing-song tone. It was not denial. He really did not care; he didn't now, and he never would again. 'Who are you trying to fool? Me? Or yourself?' his conscience mocked him.

Damon was shook out of his inner war by the moaning coming from his neck-broken girlfriend –whom was currently waking up for theslumber Elena fucking Gilbert put her in. Even though he was still pissed as hell, he couldn't deny that he was actually pretty impressed by her bravery, and her speed. He had sometimes tried to attack the Russian vampire, but he always ended pinned to the ground, with an unbreakable grasp on his throat. But Elena had just moved as a bolt light and broken her neck like it was a twig. He knew it wasn't easy attacking a vampire older than you, especially one as old as Irina was. They were stronger, faster, and their reflexes were as fast as lighting. Yet, Elena did it like it was nothing; like she did it in a daily basis. 'She must have been super mad, if she could take down Irina by herself'. 'There it is that stupid voice again' Damon scoffed. 'I don't know if you're aware, but that stupid voice is you. I'm your conscience, idiot!' the stupid voice scolded him; Damon only snorted, annoyed by its come back. He thought that he was done with his inner war.

When Irina had finally come back, she cracked her neck, and moaned at the pain. She looked around and saw that she was lying on a couch in a living room, somewhere. She didn't remember going to sleep, and even if she would've gone to sleep, it wouldn't be on an uncomfortable couch as the one she was on. Then, it all suddenly came back to her; the arrival to Mystic Falls, her and Damon going up to his bedroom, her first meeting with the woman whom broke Damon's heart… Then, it clicked. That bitch! Oh she hadn't! She had not broken her neck! But she knew she had! That stupid little whore!

She jumped from the couch and sped upstairs to give that Doppelganger bitch a piece of her mind. Perhaps, even kill her. The newbie vampire was no match for her, and she would be doing the world a favor if she got rid of her. She knew that the Salvatore's would be pissed at her, but she simply did not care; they would thank her in the end, once they saw what a burden in their lives the Doppel-vamp really was.

She stormed through Damon's room's door and saw the skank sitting comfortably on the bed, reading a book: Jack London's 'The Call of the Wild'. She felt Damon entering the room, mere seconds after her. He stood anxiously by the door, and did not move; waiting to see how the situation would unfold. Elena felt their presence in the room, and lifted her eyes from the book she was reading. She smirked at the now awake vampire bitch.

"What? You want your neck broken again?" Elena grinned sarcastically. "You were out for quite some time" Elena stated. "Aren't old vampires supposed to heal quicker than us, Damon?" she turned her sarcastic glance at Damon, who was still motionless. She looked back at Irina. "I think you must be just broken, if it took you so long to recover from a broken neck"

"You shouldn't have done what you did" Irina's fangs elongated and the veins around her eyes were pulsating with rage. Elena had to admit that it was quite a scary sight, but she would never say it. Elena really wasn't scared by the old vampire –although she knew she should be-; but she was sure Damon would never allow any harm coming to her. He might not love her anymore, but he had spent quite some time trying to save her life. And that wasn't something that you forget that easy.

Irina tensed her muscles, and lunged for Elena's neck. Her plan was to bite her, then plunge her hand into her chest and pull the bitch's heart out. However, she never made it to her target; because just when she was just millimeters away from Elena's neck, she fell to the ground, clutching her head with both her hands and screaming in agony. Damon sped to her and tried to help her, even though he had no damn idea of what was wrong with her. He looked around feverishly, trying to find something to calm Irina, but he was unsuccessful. Irina's high pitched screams were roaring through the wooden walls of his room and he found himself unable to do anything to cease her agony.

Just when he lifted his head to the entryway of his room did he find the reason for Irina's torture. He had been so consumed by watching the catfight between his former love, and his current one that he didn't feel that arrival of the young Bennett witch. He immediately knew that she was the reason Irina was crawling on the floor, screaming her lungs out in pain.

"Bonnie, stop it!" he snarled at the witch; but she paid him no attention, too focused on the spell that had his girlfriend shouting in pain. "Bonnie, stop!" he hissed. He couldn't stand seeing his powerful woman reduced to a screaming pile on the floor. When he saw that Bonnie had no intentions of stopping, he sped to her and shook her out of her trance. Immediately, Irina stopped her pained screaming. Bonnie blinked and brought her hand up to her nose, where a trail of blood was coming from.

"What the hell! Why on earth did you stop me?" Bonnie screamed at him.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you were making my girlfriend's brain explode, over and over again" Damon yelled at her, showing her his fangs.

Elena was dumbfounded by what'd happened. She couldn't believe it. She had trusted with all her being that Damon would never let anything, or anyone hurt her. The idea of him not trying to protect her had never, ever crossed her mind, not even once. She thought he would always save her; and that it would never change. She couldn't believe that he had done nothing, while his stupid bitch of a girlfriend had tried to kill her. He just stood there, when she was trying to kill her? He just stood there! He didn't do anything! Had it not been for Bonnie, she would be dead by now.

This fact hurt her so deeply that she couldn't even stand the sight of him. She couldn't look at him right now. Everything she believed in had changed. Damon didn't love her anymore; he was with another woman; he seemed not to care a little bit about her; but the cherry on the top was that her life didn't mean anything to him anymore. She had to get away.

So, as always, she did what she knew how to do best, run away. Just as she did three years ago, when she ran away from Damon and into the safety Stefan offered. She sped out of the room and out of the house in little less than five seconds; and nobody noticed her departure.

"That is your girlfriend? What is wrong with you?" Bonnie spat in his face. She knew that her best friend still had a thing for Damon, and that seeing Damon with his new girlfriend must have hurt her. What she didn't know was how big that thing was; nobody did. Except for Stefan.

"That has a name" Damon spat back at the Bennett witch.

"By all means, enlighten me" Bonnie expressed sarcastically.

"Her name is Irina"Damon was glaring at Bonnie so hard that she felt like his eyes were actually blades that were slicing through her being.

"And you let Irina go as far as almost killing Elena?" Bonnie couldn't believe it, either. She had always trusted Damon to protect Elena's life against anything or anyone. Yet, he stood there while his own girlfriend tried to kill the girl –whose life he had spent so much time trying to save. "It's Elena, Damon. You remember her, right? The girl whose life you saved so many times before. How could you just stand there and do nothing while your girlfriend tried to kill her?" the witch's voice was dripping with venom. She couldn't help it; she was fuming.

"Do not say the word 'girlfriend' in that tone of voice" Damon warned her. "And perhaps I'm tired of saving that deceiving bitch's life. Perhaps I don't care whether she lives or dies anymore" Damon hissed. He was sick of people thinking they knew him. They didn't. And it infuriated him that they always had such high expectations from him. Stupid fools, Damon thought.

"Cut the though act, Damon. Nobody's buying it! We both know you always have and will forever care about Elena" Bonnie told him and made her way downstairs and out of the boarding house without a glance back.

Damon shook his head and made his way over to Irina, who still was on the floor recovering from the aneurism the witch gave her. He offered her his hand, and she took it.

"From now on, those bitches better watch their backs. Once I'm done with them, they'll wish they were never born" Irina spat in an angry voice.

"You will not hurt them. You will not hurt anyone" it wasn't a question, but a statement. He still didn't know whether he cared about Elena, or not. But what he did know was that he would never let any harm happen to her.

"Like hell I won't" Irina spat. She really was angry. No, she wasn't angry; she was fucking pissed. She had been humiliated twice today, and she would not let that fact go. She was a vengeful vampire when needed be.

"You won't" Damon warned her. He wouldn't let her hurt anyone in this fucking town. Even though he hated every one of its habitants, it was still his home town.

"Why do you care so much?" the Russian spat. She was starting to get angry at him, too. She did not want to believe that Damon would still care about Elena in anyway. The bitch didn't deserve it in the slightest; at least not after breaking his heart so many times before. As Damon, Irina made a promise to herself: if that bitch Elena came between her and her Damon, she wouldn't hesitate in the slightest killing her.

Why did he care? That had been the million dollar question that had lingered in Damon's mind, since his pacing in the living room. In his mind still thought he did not care. He wanted to believe that because he wasn't ready to accept that even after the shit he had been through because of Elena, he still cared in any way about her. 'It's easier to pretend, isn't it Damon?' his conscience whispered in his ear; but Damon sent it away.

"I don't?" it sounded more a question than a statement. Damon closed his eyes when he realized his mistake. He shouldn't have been listening to his stupid fucking conscience. It just brought him problems, any time he listened to it. He expected to hear Irina's pissed off voice, reproaching him for being an idiot, and for been wondering whether he cared about the Doppelganger, or not. But all he heard was the hissing of air. Confused, he opened his eyes and saw that his girlfriend was nowhere to be seen.

Meanwhile…

As soon as Elena flew out of the Salvatore Boarding House, she went to the one place she had been going for the past six years whenever she needed to think. Her parents' grave. She sat down on the grass next to their epitaph and closed her eyes letting her thoughts invade her mind. For first she thought about Damon finally coming back home; she inwardly wondered how long would he stay in town, and how would it be when he left again. For sure she would be left devasted; just like she was when he left her three years ago; she would cry, she would scream, she would shut down, she would kill, she would break…

Then, she started thinking of Damon's slut of a girlfriend. She couldn't believe that Damon had moved on so quickly. In her mind, three years were not enough time to move on from someone you loved as much as Damon had loved her. She refused to believe that Damon had stopped loving her completely. It wasn't possible, it just wasn't. He could not have forgotten how consuming the love he felt for her was. A love like that wasn't something you moved on from in just three years, if ever. That kind of love was one that lasted forever and you couldn't just forget about it. Or so she thought…

Lastly she began thinking of her inappropriate behavior. She almost didn't want to believe that she had behaved the way she did. She had never been the one to act out on her emotions. She had always preferred to bottle up her emotions and put them away. She didn't want to be an emotional wreck so she always tried to keep them in check. She was bewildered that she had snapped so easily at the Russian. She had never fully understood the complete meaning of heightened emotions before. But now she really did. She had snapped just like that.

She shook her head when she realized that she had made a fool out of herself. She was embarrassed by how pathetic she must have looked. She acted like a pathetic possessive girlfriend; when she, by any means, was not. She had to stop with her possessive act, and let them be. For starters she would leave Damon's room to them even though the thought of them together in his bed made her want to puke. Then, she would leave Irisha –that was her name, right?- alone and not attack her anymore –physically, nor verbally-.

Her mind was full of her thinking, but she couldn't send them away, nor did she want to. She was invaded by every memory she had from before Damon left town; and the ones she made after he left. Her mind kept running and running, and running. Until it stopped at the most painful, yet defining memory she possessed. It was one form just a few hours ago: Damon willing to let her die…

She cried when this memory came to her. She had never been so hurt and disappointed before. Right in that moment she felt like she wanted to die. His coldness and detachment about anything concerning her, hurt like a bitch. That was when she had an epitome…

'Damon doesn't care about you anymore' the voice in her head –her conscience- told her, twisting the knife she had in her chest; laughing when Elena's cries became louder, because it knew that she most likely deserved everything that came her way. After the shit she had made Damon go through…

Once Elena's cries had somehow calmed down a little, she started thinking of how selfish and unfair she had been to the blue eyed vampire –who now seemed to hate her with a passion-. She had always taken him for granted, and took advantage of his love for her to make him do the dirty work that no one of her friends dared to do. He always did it, and never complained about it. Why? Because he loved her that much. And what had he gotten in return for doing said dirty work? He had gotten fingers pointed at him, and dirty looks form her friends. As soon as his job was done, he was treated like he was nothing more than an annoying bug that needed to be shooed away. But above anything else, he got her dirty looks and complains of his love being so suffocating and a liability. What did he ever ask in return for those tasks? Only for her to accept him for who and what he was. But she never did. She never truly accepted –nor approved- of his lifestyle. At least not until she became what he was, and truly understood how hard it was to be a 'blood-sucking monster with no redeeming qualities'. The difference was that she never got dirty looks. 'Why, may you ask?' Because how on earth anything that perfect Elena Gilbert did would ever be wrong?

There were hypocrites everywhere, she realized now. What right did her friends have to judge any of his actions when all he had done was protect them and their little stupid town? Why didn't they realize that all he had done in those three years he was in town was out of his love for her and his little brother? Why had Caroline ever held a grudge against him for having been turned, when all he did was give her his blood so she wouldn't die? Why did Bonnie still hold a grudge against him for turning her mother into a vampire? Why couldn't she realize that she had chosen Abby so she wouldn't have to become what she hated most? Besides, why on earth did it still matter, when he had saved her from death many times before? Then, there was Stefan. He had always condemned his big brothers action and signaled him as nothing more than a monster. What fucking right did he have to point finger at him when he had done so much worse things in the past?

And last, but not least. There was her. Damon had saved her life so many times that she had already lost count; they were just too many and so little fingers in her hands. She had never thanked him for risking his own life just to save hers –with the exception of that time in the porch when they had had their first real kiss. He had been willing to be killed by Klaus so she could get her epic love back. And what did she do in return? She left him alone to wait for his death, possibly in the hands of his friend. She was like a disease to him. A horrible and painful disease that he couldn't find the cure for. The only cure existent was if she got out of his life for good.

In that moment she made a choice: after everything he'd gone through he deserved to be happy, and if his happiness was with that Russian girl, she would back off and finally let him have peace and happiness. From now on, she wouldn't interfere in Damon and his girlfriend's love life. She would back the fuck off, even if it killed her.