Hey, everyone! Short A/N because this is a long chapter. I'm sorry for the late-night update, I just got to writing this and I couldn't stop and now it's almost eleven thirty but it's okay because I think I oversleep sometimes. Anyways, that was off topic. Enjoy this chapter...it's special. If there are any questions about it, I'll answer in the next chapter, just ask it to me or PM me about it. It's going to start to get a little more confusing with this whole Pure Blood thing...

Review if you can, but otherwise, enjoy!

Disclaimer: Chapter 1 please :)

Resident Evil

It was a haze…everything was a complete haze. My mind was being pulled in different directions, I could feel things that I wasn't supposed to feel, and I had no clue of what I was actually doing. The world before me was a blur, sounds pouring into each other just as my vision doubled and tried to concentrate, but wouldn't let me. There was something wrong and something right at the same.

But…mostly, I felt something odd. I felt…I felt love. It was like some sort of force field—a magnet, maybe. Two figures were able to be seen as silhouettes in my vision, but were not given identities. My head was pounding and there was a certain bile in the back of my throat. Though this feeling of warmth and comfort surrounded me, I felt like complete and utter shit.

My vision grew worse, and now, there were black spots covering my eyes. Murmured voices, slight hums…they were all ringing through my ears until I heard the very distinct sound of a horn, and I was almost positive that my knees completely buckled.

I fell, quite literally, into darkness.

If there is one thing in this world that is often confused with another, no—it would not be homonyms. Though homonyms are a great example of a problem with the English language, I'm talking about the entire world. You could speak Swahili and still have this problem.

Love and lust—it's the most confused emotion of them all. I mean, you can surely differentiate between anger and rage, right? Of course. Sadness and despair? Please, I do that on a daily basis. But love and lust now, that's a whole different story.

What is love, exactly? Well, according to Merriam-Webster, it is a strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties. Or, perhaps, it could be an attraction based on sexual desire; affection and tenderness felt by lovers. And what about lust? Well, according to that same popular dictionary, it's intense or unbridled sexual desire or, perhaps, an intense longing.

So how do you tell the difference? It can all be done in three easy steps:

First, get your shit together.

Second, think super hard about how you feel.

Third, don't ask me because I have slept with one guy in the twenty wasted years I've spent in this life, and I'm just starting to question my desires, myself.

I had spent one entire day in an enormous bed fit for a king with a devilishly charming vampire who, up until a few days ago, I had been denying for the past few years.

I should probably cross therapist off of my list of career plans, shouldn't I?

I was starting to feel like my old self again—memories in tact, I felt like Superwoman. But I also felt the emotional tax that came with knowing everything, and slowly, I was able to get over those random surges of guilt or pain or loss or grief. Audrey, Stefan, and Caroline were all back home, safe against the big bad Travelers that held them until they killed Tom, the other Stefan doppelgänger. And though it'd only been a day, I felt like everything would be okay. We still hadn't found the Pure Blood book yet—but I couldn't help much with that. If only I hadn't been so stupid and stopped drinking vervain as a memory-wiped valley girl. Oh, all right, I wouldn't say Madeline Reichs was a valley girl…but, regardless, she was different.

Honestly, it was a surprise to even myself that I had spent the entire day just…in a bed with the man I loved. I mean, you would think; I, Madeline Gilbert, known as probably the purest girl in Mystic Falls (though, considering the supply of sluts we have in our town, I would hardly call it a competition), would be opposed to staying in bed all day.

Damon Salvatore had his ways of persuading.

I woke up slowly, brushing off the weird dream where I saw completely nothing, and I adjusted to the sight of Damon's open bedroom for the third morning in a row. The newest sheets—which were dark, navy blue—were literally wrapped around me as if I were being entombed as a mummy; except, my arms and everything above my shoulders, and even a part of my foot, were allowed to show.

I was startled to find that the bed was empty—cold, almost. "Damon?" I called out, straightening in the slightest. My hair was probably a rat's nest and I probably looked exhausted with bags under my eyes and swollen lids. I thought this for no other reason than it being the worst image my mind could make up when I saw him round from the corner and, to my dismay, he was dressed.

"Morning." He grinned, exiting the bathroom. I straightened up in the bed and he came over to me, kissed me straight on the mouth quickly, and then pulled away.

"Why are you dressed?" I asked, almost sighing. I watched as Damon walked from my side of the bed to the chest just in front of his bed.

Damon shrugged, opening his top drawer for a moment. "I thought we could actually do something today. You're exhausted."

I scoffed. "Please. What would make you think that?" He turned around at me, raising an eyebrow. Immediately, I moved my hand to my face. "Please, tell me I don't look that bad this morning," I groaned, ready to bolt out of the bed and take a shower. Not all of us could roll out of bed in the morning looking like supermodels. My blood may mock a vampires, but my face sure as hell doesn't.

At this, Damon raised his eyebrows in a confusing way, not a teasing way like before. "What the hell are you talking about? You look fine. I was talking about last night, when you passed out."

I frowned. "I did not pass out," I countered, but truth be told, I don't remember when I fell asleep. Damon waited for me to make the realization. "Wait a second…"

"Mm," Damon agreed, pulling back his lips and chuckling. "I'm not about to overwork you. That would just be plain cruel of me," he teased, turning back to the cabinet again. I sighed and bit down on my lip. This surely wasn't how I saw the morning going.

The thought came back to me: love or lust? Beats the hell out of me.

"What if I'm not so opposed to being overworked?" I asked him, slightly afraid to say the words. But if there was one thing that Damon had taught me over these few years together, it was not to be afraid. Even though there was a part of me that was, there was also a part of me kicking to get out; a part of me that Damon had brought out. I was sure that if I was in the same place with Matt right now—no offense to him or anything, because he was one gorgeous human—I would not have been this…willing or this happy. So if that's what makes this love, like I'm ninety-nine percent sure it is, so be it.

Damon turned around at me slowly, taking my words into careful consideration. "Oh, you, Miss Madeline, are one greedy little human." He shut the top drawer of the cabinet and I relaxed seeing the warm smile on his face as he crawled into bed on top of me, and I flattened when he pushed me down into the mattress. He kissed me again, this time not making it so quick and simple as when I woke up. He sighed into it, and I could feel the breath transfer from him to me.

"You're forgetting," I scolded as his lips just moved slightly to the side of my mouth. "I'm not human."

"Oh, you're human," Damon retorted, pulling mouth from my skin to look into my eyes. "Wanna know how I know?"

I widened my eyes teasingly. "How?" I mocked.

"This," he said, giving me a grin before trailing his hand up to tap the center of my sternum, right by my beating heart. I shivered involuntarily, recognizing that the sheet was the only thing barricading us besides his unnecessary, passive-aggressive usage of clothing. "As long as it's beating, I refuse to believe you're anything else."

I sighed. "You know I died back when Silas did the spell to send me there," I countered at him, staring at him out of the corner of my eye. "Yes, my heart still beats, and yes, I'm technically human on the outside but—"

"Shh," Damon hushed me, leaning down and kissing me again, quicker and rougher this time. When he pulled away, he continued briskly, "I don't care what Silas did to you, you are still my human." His words were quick before he kissed me again, and I had no strength in me to argue. Whether he believed I was human or not, I could at least convince him of the fact that I wasn't overworked.

I mean, please. All in all, seventeen/eighteen years of absolutely no sexual desire towards any male whatsoever, and then Damon Salvatore waltzed his way into my life and changed everything. I was almost sorry for myself back when I was so set on keeping us restrained. It was like I was a different person this time around.

We kissed, every kiss new and exciting that created a fire just introduced to me, and I desperately grasped at the hem of his shirt. Damon didn't fight me and let me handle it while he set to work on letting his lips brush over my skin, giving me the faintest ghost kisses a person could possibly give. The touches were barely there, but it was that very fact that made it worth of crave.

"Next time you want to get dressed, you wake me up first," I ordered him, finally getting the shirt to be lifted off his head and thrown on the floor. My hands ran down his perfectly shaped chest unconsciously. "It's a waste of valuable human time. And an unnecessary load of laundry."

A soft chuckle sounded through my skin, and Damon murmured, "I'll keep that in mind."

I was finally able to get all of his stupid clothing off—Damon put on underwear just to annoy me, I'm sure of it, but it didn't get much father than a few kisses excessive, desirable breaths of Damon's name from my lips and my name from Damon's here and there before we were so rudely interrupted by a certain dick vampire. But there are a lot of those, so I'll clarify.

"I feel like I should probably leave, but…"

Damon rolled off of me immediately, falling to my naked side, and pulled the sheets around us to make sure that it covered both me and him as we saw the smirking face of the smug Enzo, who leaned against Damon's doorway. Damon, as surprised as I was at the interruption, shouted, "Enzo! What the hell are you doing in my room?"

"Well, I heard noises," he said, as if that was supposed to defend his reason. I sighed exasperatedly, rolling my eyes up at the ceiling. "Thought somebody might be dying, the way Madeline was shouting your name." Shouting? Hardly. "I might just need to get my ears checked or something…"

I looked over at him. "I'll be shouting out your name in a much more violent way if you don't get the hell out of this room right now."

"Enzo," Damon said, throwing his hands up in the air. "This? Yeah, not cool!"

"Oh, relax," Enzo whined, and then straightened as he put his hands together as a mad man and smirked. "I brought over a present. Get dressed. Meet me downstairs. I'll rack 'em up."

Damon and I both watched as Enzo fled down the stairs, and we were both questioning his words—with Enzo, we would never know.

When he was gone, I turned to Damon, a little pissed. Damon's hand went out to my hair and brushed it to the side. "You do know that if we don't get down there in the next five minutes, he's just going to come back up here."

"Can't we just lock the door?" I whined. "Maybe he'll get the hint and go away. Like all pests."

Damon laughed genuinely, and he leaned forward, pressed a kiss to my despaired lips, and said, "It's highly unlikely. Enzo's a…persistent type of pest. Come on, we'll kick him out sooner or later. There's always the nighttime."

I frowned, but regardless, I let him help me up and we got changed together. When we arrived downstairs, Damon and I were both relieved to see that "rack 'em up" thankfully meant what we thought it did—his "present" was a billiard table. Enzo was waiting by the side of the arcade table, holding one stick in his right hand and two sticks in his left.

Damon looked like a kid on Christmas morning, and I actually was pretty happy about it, myself. I agreed to play the winner, so Enzo and Damon played first to see who would play me and—ultimately—lose. A couple seconds into the game—"seconds" out of common courtesy, of course—Enzo asked about what had happened between me and Damon to be so happy-go-lucky in bed earlier this morning. We explained it to him, which only made him more confused.

"So…you two fell into a romantic alternate universe where you were two high school human kids"—he jerked his head at me as Damon took his shot at his target ball—"you, Madeline, received your memories back,"—Damon sunk his ball into the pocket, earning a smirk on his face—"then you two decided to break up, which I completely get, by the way. And, of course, you slept together…which, again, not smart, but…I get it." He looked over at me and shrugged as him and Damon switched positions so he could get another shot in. "Here's where it gets a bit hazy for me…you…went to a parent/teacher conference?"

I shrugged. "Not like I had a choice. Elena asked me to go."

Damon nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Jeremy's been having some trouble in school." But he didn't say the words with concern, but rather trying to defend his decision.

"Right," Enzo scoffed. "And here's the kicker—you come back home, Jeremy moves out, Elena sets off to Whitmore, and you two just…decide to get back together?"

I frowned. "You say it like it's a bad thing."

Enzo shrugged. "It's not a bad thing, love…I'm just saying. There are a million other boys out at Whitmore. Frat boys…college boys…Professors—"

Damon stopped him. "Hey, hey, don't put any ideas in her head."

I held up my hand and opened my mouth. "No, Enzo's right." Damon looked at me incredulously, and I let a smile onto my face. "Frat boys walk around the house with their shirts off all the time. Any chance I can get the same from you?" I asked, a light tone in my voice. Damon laughed to himself and shook his head incredulously before he returned to his shot.

Enzo turned to me. "I'd be more than happy to demonstrate if Damon's not willing," he suggested just as Damon pushed his cue stick forward and, at Enzo's words, missed the shot because of his jolt. I scowled at Enzo.

"How about you do that?" I challenged, earning a playful look from Enzo. "But, before you do, just keep in mind that I have a very wooden cue stick in my hand." Enzo's amused face turned up more, but I could see him cower behind his Damon-like smirk. "That's what I thought."

"Hey, don't you have your own girlfriend to hit on?" Damon said, walking around the edge of the pool table. "Maybe that's why you haven't found her. She knows you're hitting on mine," he growled angrily.

"I haven't found her because the Travelers, i.e. my only lead, decided to play a fun game of spontaneous combustion before giving me what they promised," Enzo defended, switching sides of the pool table so he could make his own shot.

"Great," Damon mused. "Now you're here annoying us."

"Well we can always go kill people," Enzo suggested, shrugging. "Turn you into a vampire," he said, looking over at me with a suggestive glance. I tensed. "Come on, I think you'd be a great vampire. What do you think would be most magnified? Your intelligence?"

"My violence," I countered, giving him a bitterly sweet smile. Enzo laughed and leaned over the table to make his shot.

It was harder now, my vision was still blacked out in some parts and it blurred completely. It was almost like someone was trying, intentionally, to block me out. Or, perhaps, it was my own mind prohibiting me from seeing. Either way, I couldn't see a damn thing, and it was starting to get annoying…and dizzying.

I felt like I was drunk. To be fair, I'd been drunk only a few times in my life; the most prominent one being that trip to Georgia. God, that was special. But, this…this didn't feel like alcohol was my undoing. Instead, it felt like…it felt like I was my undoing.

Yeah. I'm going crazy.

Two figures were able to be made out in my vision, just like before. And, just like before, I could see the slightest of where we were. Before, it was mostly outside, with the sun beating down, but this time…this time, it was the opposite. I was outside, at night, standing in front of what looked like a doorway, but I couldn't be positive. But, unlike the other time, there was a third character in my view. Someone who caught me as my vision began to expand widely and I swore my knees buckle. He murmured something that I couldn't hear…something dark. Something that made my stomach churn. Something that made me feel like I was the most impure child of all the people on this Earth.

I had zoned out for a moment, but I managed to get refocused in time to see who won the first pool game. I thought nothing of this bizarre daydream—truth be told, I should start listening to my subconscious more. Instead, I ignored it, and watched Enzo sink the eight ball in the top right corner pocket, declaring his win of the game. He smiled widely and turned to me. "You ready to play, gorgeous?"

"Be prepared to lose," I warned him, walking towards the billiard table. Damon came up to me, leaned against the side of the table I was standing near while Enzo began to rack up the balls.

"You want anything?" he asked me, his fingers extending in the slightest to brush mine. I thought about it for a moment, and eventually nodded.

"You still have soda here, right?"

Damon scoffed. "Please. After last time I forgot to have Coca-Cola in this house? You nearly bit my head off. I'll go get us some."

I smiled. "Thank you," I said as he leaned forward, kissed me in a way that he was allowed to with his best friend standing right across the table, and left to get me, the only one who actually needed to eat and drink something to survive, a soda. When he was gone, I walked around the table and leaned against it as Enzo placed the stripes and solids into the triangle.

"So what changed your mind?" he asked, peering at me while setting the balls up. I grabbed the balls from the corner pockets and hummed in confusion. "When you and I were discussing back at Whitmore—"

"Oh, you mean when you forcibly took my blood and then shoved me in a closet?"

Enzo rolled his eyes. "Bygones, love. Anyways, you were so…distant towards him. What's changed? It can't just be your memories. He did sleep with your sister, after all."

I looked at him as I rolled the balls I took out from the pockets and he placed them in the triangle. Thinking of my answer before I said it, I eventually spoke, "You don't know half the crap Damon and I have been through." I tried desperately not to think that whatever I was saying, Damon was probably hearing. "When you love someone the way I love Damon, even the biggest things aren't worth staying mad at. You're right—the memories weren't what brought me back him. He's what brought me back to him. Memories or not, Damon is still…" I shrugged. "…Damon."

Enzo was quiet for a long time, staring at me as if I'd given him the best advice in the world. With a sad smile, he nodded. "He's a lucky man," was all he said before I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, and the Caller I.D. read Caroline. I was about to answer it when Enzo snatched the phone up out of my hand and answered. "Hello, gorgeous."

"Enzo," I said, shaking my head at him. "Not. Cool." I snatched my phone back and held it up to my ear to hear Caroline murmur a sign of her confusion. "Sorry, Caroline, Enzo's playing a little game of How-To-Annoy-Madeline. What's up?"

I heard the response just as Damon walked into the room with two open Coca-Colas. "Uh…okay. Well, listen, there's something going on with Elena and Stefan and we need your and Damon's help on it."

Damon, obviously, had heard the remark, and he rolled his eyes. I could see that any romantic plans he had for the day were shot. He gave me a signal to put it on speakerphone, and I did as told. "What?" Damon grumbled, walking around the pool table to hand me my drink. I silently thanked him while listening to Caroline.

"Well…you know how we all laughed off the notion that the Universe was drawing Stefan and Elena together…" She laughed awkwardly.

"Yeah…"

"Well, that's happening."

"What's happening?" Damon repeated, confused.

"Now that Stefan's…" Caroline trailed off. "Doppel-him—"

"Wasn't his name Tom?" I asked openly, to which Caroline corrected herself.

"Tom. Yes. Now that Tom is dead, Stefan and Elena are the last pair of doppelgängers…which, might explain why Stefan and Elena are suddenly having…vision-type situations of each other." She said the words carefully, like she was trying to tiptoe around the facts.

I inhaled. Two figures…love…a feeling of completion. Oh, shit. Why the hell does this always happen to me.

Enzo laughed. "Somebody's having sex dreams," he accused Elena, who he knew could hear clearly over the phone. Sure enough, we heard Elena in the faint background, protesting.

Caroline defended her, "Yeah, they're like…romance—"

I shuddered. "Caroline! Caroline, please, I beg of you. Stop." I turned to Damon. "I think there's something deeply, deeply wrong."

Damon scoffed. "Yeah. I know. Caroline has absolutely no filter when it comes to—"

"Damon!" I stopped him, gaining his attention again. "No, I mean, like, there's something wrong. With me." He raised an eyebrow and I spoke clearly into the phone. "Uh…give the phone to Elena, please, Caroline."

"Yeah. Sure. Hold on." There was a shuffling on the line, and then, Elena's voice, "Yes?"

"Were you outside in the first one? Bright? Sunny? There was a loud car horn?"

"Uh…yeah. How did you—?"

"The second one. Night. Outside. Doorway. I…I think it was red, but don't take my word for it."

Elena seemed baffled on the other side of the phone. "Y-Yeah, Madeline, how do you—"

I cut her off again and turned to Damon. "I'm getting real tired of this, Damon," I grumbled at him.

He stared at me incredulously, and then he realized. "You have got to be kidding me!" Damon shrieked, turning around and shaking his head.

"Will you two please tell me what's going on?" Elena demanded on the phone, and I sighed before speaking into the air.

"Elena, I'm in your dreams," I said, shaking my own head. What was I, the dream whisperer? If so, can I get a refund or something? "You might not be able to see me, obviously, but…" I scoffed. "I can't see you, either, but I can see enough."

"Give the phone back to Caroline," Damon snapped at Elena, who took a moment, but was able to shuffle the phone back to her friend. Damon leaned against the side of the pool table and spoke without even knowing Caroline was ready yet. "Where's Stefan?" he asked.

Caroline sighed. "He and Audrey went to the Traveler camp to see if anyone's still there that can tell them what's going on."

Enzo was the one who answered, "Yeah, good luck with that."

"Well, it's our only lead. Look, all we know is that Tom is dead, the Travelers just committed a mass suicide, and Stefan and Elena—who are obviously not together anymore—are having intense visions of each other that Madeline's apparently dropping in on."

I sighed. "You make it sound like it's a hobby, Caroline." But I was more exasperated than anything. The one thing that had me confused, and possibly worried, was why my vision and hearing were blurred to the max and some man came and whispered dirty little secrets into my ear at the end of the last one. I didn't dare say anything for my life, though, because the second something went wrong, I just knew Damon would pin it on breaking the one law of being a Pure Blood: stay pure. He didn't seem to have a problem with it before, but if he knew what it was potentially doing to me now, I had a feeling he would get all high and mighty on me. It wasn't a chance I was willing to take.

Damon, who was obviously pissed about this whole thing because his leisure day with me had now gone to utter crap, forced out, "Find a witch. Get her over here. Let's figure out what the hell is going on." He pressed the end button on my cell phone and turned to me. "You didn't think to mention this before?"

I shrugged. "I didn't think it was a big deal! It was just daydreams. Plus, they're…not so comprehensible," I added, trying to be as vague as I could. Damon frowned at me. "Hey, daydreams are sometimes just random situations that your mind makes up. I mean, what are dreams really—?"

Enzo sighed heavily. "Is she always this factual?" he groaned. Damon turned around at him and said nothing. "I liked her better as a brunette."

Damon smirked. "Blondes have more fun," he said simply before turning back to me. I could see Enzo clearly shrugged, careless. "Look, we'll fix this, okay? Maybe we need some sort of brain-lock to keep you from getting sucked into all these freaky…vision-dreams," he teased.

I laughed, and he smiled, and we were just left to wait.

"This is going to be awkward," I murmured to Damon as we stood by the pool table. I was sitting on the edge while he swept all of the balls into the pockets so that they were safely put away until the next game.

"No, it won't be awkward," Damon assured me, finishing the cleanup regarding his present. "We've all…made ourselves pretty clear about things are to go on now. Elena didn't seem to have a problem with it yesterday."

I shot him a glare as he walked around the table to meet me. "She thought we had broken up yesterday, Damon. There's a huge difference." He just shook his head and gave a soft chuckle. "Besides, I mean…you did choose me, but, what about her? She chose you over Stefan and—"

"Madeline," Damon warned in a condescending tone as he walked over to me and leaned against the side of the pool table I was sitting on, placing his palms flat down on the wooden edge right beside my thighs. "I was drunk when I slept with her, she was drunk when she slept with me. Even if we play Never Have I Ever with hard liquor shots, I will not make the same mistake twice. Okay?"

I didn't want to relive old arguments because, frankly, I was getting tired of this one. "Okay," I agreed, and he smiled at my agreement. "I trust you, I do. I just…don't trust her…" I trailed off, trying to have it make sense to me, too.

Damon leaned forward. "You don't have to," he said, giving me a light peck on the lips. I sighed and he pulled away, and this, I realized, was the end of our conversation as the doorbell rang and Enzo called out that he'd answer it. "You're always cute when you're jealous."

I shrugged. "Yeah, okay, I'll give you that." He grabbed me and helped me down from the pool table, and then fit my hand in his as he walked down from the separated room into the parlor, where Elena, Caroline, and Enzo were all standing in the foyer. Elena froze in the middle of unzipping her jacket, and I could see her eyes drift down to our interlocked hands. I felt a surge of emotions crash over me. This wasn't how I wanted my relationship to be with her. Awkward…hurtful. It couldn't be this way forever.

"Hey," Elena said softly, breaking the ice first.

"Hi," I responded, just as Damon did a few seconds later. I felt like muttering, "Awkward" so badly—it was just in my nature to do it—but I refrained. Not appropriate, Madeline, just…not appropriate.

Enzo turned to Caroline specifically. "So, who could use a drink from the library?"

Caroline, as if on cue, raised her hand. "Yes, please."

Elena opened her mouth to protest, but Enzo and Caroline were already out of the room. Damon glanced over to me, an understanding expression on his face, and squeezed my hand. I returned it as we heard Elena talk. "Well. At least they're not being obvious," she teased, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Enzo's been obvious all day," I told her, trying to act like myself on some level. "And annoying. It's just one of those traits I've picked up on." You're not funny, something scolded within me, and I shut up.

Elena nodded slowly, and then her eyes caught sight of a pool table. "You got a pool table," she noted, turning to Damon.

He shrugged. "Uh…yeah. Enzo brought it over this morning." Silence passed after Elena bobbed her head, and then Damon offered hesitantly, "Drink?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Elena said, but she nodded to my drink. "A soda would be better, though—"

"Here," I said graciously, handing over my soda. "Have mine."

"Oh, no, it's okay, Mads—"

"No, seriously," I pushed, and turned to Damon. I gestured to the alcohol on the table. "I'll take one please."

Elena hesitantly grabbed the soda from my hand and Damon released my other one so that he could pour the alcoholic beverage for me. Before he handed it to me, he gave me a look, one that asked if he could have some, and I nodded. He took a sip with my permission, and then he handed it to me. I was thankful he'd asked—pissed me off the last time he took a sip of my once-in-a-blue-moon splurge. Things were silent, and then Elena took in a deep breath. "Okay, can we….not do this, guys?"

"Do what?" I asked, sniffing the alcohol before taking a small sip. The liquid burned all the way down my throat, and I resisted the natural cough that came with it.

"This," she said, gesturing to all three of us. "The whole…awkward thing. Obviously, you two are together again, right?" Damon and I looked at each other hesitantly, but Elena didn't bother with the question anymore. "So…I think, to move past this, we should all just…do that. Move past it. Put the past behind and…uh, just start new. No more, err…sire bonds between me and Damon, it's understandable." Elena nodded curtly.

I looked at her, hesitant to accept her kindness. If there was anything built up in me, it was a grudge. Not because of her but…I don't know, maybe a little because of her. But, she was right—if we were to move past this, we all needed to do exactly just that. Move past it. It can't be awkward anymore.

I just…I didn't feel…comfortable around her. Not with Damon. Sire bond, no sire bond, they still spent the entire summer screwing each other. How was I supposed to be okay with that? Regardless of the cheating, there were feelings between my boyfriend and my sister. Feelings that I didn't like.

And, after all, I was only human, according to Damon.

Nevertheless, I nodded. "Yeah. You're right." But I downed my drink completely and felt the terrible, flaming taste, but then I was able to feel the warmth that followed it. Already, I could feel myself getting light-headed. I was always a lightweight. "Past is the past. We're all good," I promised. Lies, something sung in my head.

Elena smiled widely, but things soon began to get awkward again, until Damon decided to break the conversation after getting me another glass of alcohol that I'd ordered. "So…having sex dreams about my brother."

Elena widened her eyes. "Wow! Yeah. Okay. That's definitely one way to change the subject."

Damon shrugged. "Well, I just thought I'd skip the uncomfortable parts." I nearly choked on the alcohol I was drinking, resisting the very insistent urge to spit it back into my cup.

Elena shook her head. "I don't…know what these visions mean, Damon. They're just some random snippets of Stefan and me living in some alternate reality."

Damon scoffed as he let his fingers enclose around my cup and I let him take it. "Yep. Been there. Done that. I'm pretty sure Mads can write a book on it now."

"Do you think it's the same spell?" I asked openly to both of them. "I mean…with me, I had to be asleep but…could it work when they're both awake?"

Elena shrugged. "Who knows. This could just be the whole…doppelgänger-fate thing like Caroline had said. Audrey's probably…freaking out by now." She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear almost guiltily.

I shrugged. "Audrey's strong. She deals. She's probably just trying to help Stefan through it today. She'll talk to him about it tomorrow."

Elena bobbed her head slowly, thinking about it. After a while, she spoke again, "Can I ask you two something?" Damon and I fell silent before she responded. "What was it like for you two? Being happy? Human, I mean. Normal," she corrected immediately. I raised my eyebrows at her, but then I realized: Caroline. I had called her and told her about my alternate reality after she'd learned that I wasn't coming back to Whitmore just yet. "For me, I just…I feel like it's the saddest thing in the world—to believe you're human and then to come back realizing you're a vampire again."

She was silent towards the end of her sentence, almost as if she was trying to answer her own question. I looked at Damon because, obviously, this question was for him. He looked over at me, his eyes soft, but then he turned to Elena, who was waiting. "You're right," he said quietly. "It's…it's the saddest thing in the world, Elena."

I didn't know how I felt about his answer—I didn't know how I felt about anything—but, suddenly, the doorbell rang at the front. I turned to it and I was the first to say, "I'll get it", so I walked up to the door and pulled it open. Damon, I realized, was standing right behind me when he saw the man at the doorstep. I didn't recognize him, and neither did Damon.

"We're all good on bibles," he said briskly—quite rudely, actually. "Thanks."

I opened my mouth, but Damon already had began to close the door when the man outside stopped it from slamming and Damon reluctantly pulled it open again. "I'm Luke Parker," he said simply. "Liv's twin brother."

Damon groaned. "Liv has a twin? Is it possible for there to just be one of someone around here?"

But Damon was ignoring the most important question at hand, to which I answered, "Wait, why are you here? I thought Elena and Caroline called Liv."

"She's busy," Luke said, almost annoyed. No need to get snappish, I thought.

Damon smiled at Luke bitterly, and I could already see a hatred form. "Come on in," he said, his voice deathly kind. He then stepped out of the way, guiding me with him, and Luke walked inside of the house.

"What do you mean you can't stop their visions?" Damon asked in disbelief as he paced around the room.

"Our magic doesn't work like that," Luke protested. "We're not bigger than the Universe."

"Well, why the hell am I in it?" I snapped from the couch. "I'm not a part of this doppelgänger prophecy thing."

"Actually," Luke retorted, turning to me. "You are. Surprised no one ever said anything. Then again, Pure Bloods are the rarest of their kind. Too many rules and rituals to get one," he added.

I scoffed, almost laughing now. "So, what? I'm supposed to end up with Stefan and Elena? The Universe is trying to make a seriously unfunny joke. She's my sister, for one," I added, gesturing to Elena on the other side of the couch I was sitting on.

Luke stared at me, pondering for a minute. "No, obviously, you're not going to end up with Stefan and Elena. Pure Bloods have their own obstacles—they are destined to be with the most impure person the Universe can find for them. It's simple logics."

This turned into an uproar.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Damon snapped, his teeth grinding together angrily. Luke didn't seem frightened by any of Damon's attempts though.

"I'm sorry…would you like me to repeat it for you, or—"

Enzo laughed. "Wait a second. You're telling me that Madeline is destined to be with the most impure person that the Universe can come up with?" Luke just stood there, but his expression bore the answer. "Oh, my God, this is brilliant. Bloody brilliant. I might need some popcorn for this."

"Why hasn't anyone told me before?" I snapped at Luke, though it wasn't his fault. The wheels were spinning in my head, and I felt like I was going to be sick. This was like my worst nightmare coming true. Not only were Stefan and Elena fated to be with each other, but, also, I was supposed to be with the most impure person nature could create? More commonly known as Damon Salvatore? Like hell! "This is the kind of thing you tell a girl when she becomes a member of the supernatural!"

"It's all in the Pure Blood book," Luke said, glancing all across the room. "Every born Pure Blood is always created with a copy of it that follows the Pure Blood around…look, this isn't why I'm here—"

"What do you mean 'follows her around'?" Caroline asked Luke, confused. "We looked everywhere in that dorm for the Pure Blood book. Katherine hid it from Madeline when she was being compelled."

Luke shook his head, but I could tell he was getting pretty annoyed with all these questions. "It doesn't work like that. No one except Madeline can destroy or hide the book. It should be somewhere, she just needs to focus and she can bring it back." Things went silent, and Luke took this as a sign to continue. I was completely breathless on the inside, and I saw that Damon was stiff, too. He wasn't happy about this. I wasn't happy about this. This meant that our entire relationship could potentially be based upon a lie—upon this stupid Universe theory. "All right, are we done playing twenty questions now? We need your help. We think the Travelers are about to make their move," he announced to us all. "Their leader, Markos, is here."

"From where?" Damon scoffed. "Chant camp?"

"The Other Side," Luke corrected, but a bitter tone traced his voice. "He's been dead for centuries, and we think the fire sacrifice allowed him to escape."

"Perfect," Elena sneered. "A dead old guy with a mysterious evil plan and the notion that my sister has her own prophecy to deal with." Elena sighed heavily and got up from the couch. "I think I'll take a stronger drink now."

Caroline suddenly spoke, her voice projecting to all of them. "Stefan just texted me. He said the scrap yard's been completely cleared out."

"So let me guess," Damon grumbled. "The witches don't know where Markos is."

"You said the visions are trying to draw Elena and Stefan together for something and Madeline can see them," Luke clarified.

I scoffed. "Vaguely," I muttered.

Elena's voice sort of covered mine as she gulped down her drink. "For all of our blood. The Travelers need mine and Stefan's doppelgänger blood for this…prophecy. Madeline's blood is what activates it, obviously."

"And if the Travelers are the ones who need your blood, doesn't it make sense that you're not only being drawn together, but also…"

"Being drawn to them," Elena filled in, her voice low.

Damon sighed. "Well, this just keeps getting better and better."

"Wait, wait," Caroline protested. "I don't get it."

Enzo answered her with a heavy sigh, "If the visions are a road map, we need more clues. Break out the popcorn, Blondie. Elena's little sex romp isn't over yet. There seems to be a lot of that going around today."

"Can it, Enzo, I don't want to hear you right now."

The words came out of my mouth before I was able to stop them—and I was angry. I don't know why, but I was angry. I was angry at myself, Damon, and the entire fucking Universe. Why? Why wasn't it enough for me to just love him? Why did I have to go through all of this shit just to come back at the same conclusion every day?

"Madeline," Damon tried, but his voice was soft and not as demanding. I just jogged past him and left the parlor.

I went upstairs to cool down, and Caroline came up to comfort me after a few minutes. I sent her away, though, because I wanted to be alone for the moment. But it was when I realized that Damon hadn't come to see me that I realized I was being selfish—I wasn't thinking of him or how he'd feel about this. All his life, he'd been a second choice. He'd always doubted himself when it came to the women he loved. He even doubted me, for a split second, when I'd kissed Klaus to get him released from Rebekah's torture. It seemed silly to me, but it wasn't silly to him. He was just scared that he would end up alone.

I wasn't going to let that happen—prophecy or not.

I found him, sitting on the front porch, obviously with a glass of bourbon in his hand. Caroline, Enzo, and Elena had all dispersed from the parlor to give me the illusion of privacy, but I knew they were going to be listening somewhere within the house. I didn't bother to keep my voice quiet—not matter how hard I tried, they would still here me. But, regardless of the eavesdropping ears I was aware of, my first words came out softer than I thought they would be. "What are you doing out here?" I asked.

Damon took a sip of his alcohol. "Aw, you know. Looking up at the stars…listening to the Universe laugh at me for being such an idiot."

I sighed. "Damon…" I walked forward towards him, but he spoke before I got the chance to speak again.

"It wanted to see me fall in love with you," he said, his voice quiet. "It wanted to see me struggle with myself—to kill you, to love you, to make you impure. That's what this whole thing was about. Temptation. It wanted you to try and fight against me."

I sat down beside him, sighing. "But I stopped, didn't I?"

Damon shrugged. "I suppose that's what it wants now. To watch as we deal with the consequences."

I looked over at him, but he didn't turn to face me. "What do you mean consequences?"

Damon sighed, but still didn't turn to me. "After you went upstairs, Luke caught onto what Enzo said and your reaction to it. He said that we made a mistake sleeping together—that this damned Universe will punish you for being impure. That's why you can't see clearly in your visions now."

I fell silent, but tried to see a bright side. "Well, maybe this means that there's something wrong with my blood, too. Maybe Markos can't do the spell, then. We're all safe."

Damon shook his head. "If that was really the case, do you think he would still be hell-bent on finding Markos? There's a way your blood can be used, even considering what you and I did." He fell silent, and so did I at this. "What we did upset the balance. It wants revenge. Oops," he murmured.

I glanced over at him, where he still avoided me, and I just leaned over, grabbed the alcohol from his hand, and resisted the urge to drink it. I put it down beside me and turned to him, "It wasn't an 'oops' moment, Damon." He still wouldn't look at me, and at this, I moved my hand up to turn his face manually, and he moved with my hand, humming against it. "Look at me," I said softly, my hand now moving to his hair to run my fingers through it. "I don't regret anything we did. Not for a second."

"You're not supposed to," Damon said, his shoulders moving up and down in a quick motion. "You were supposed to be tempted by me, and you gave into that. You gave into me."

"Hey, you know me," I returned, shaking my head. "I don't…give into people, Damon. I love you. The Universe can punish me all they want, but I love you. The temptation…Damon, it's not real. We're real," I promised him, but I was unaware of my own promise. "Even if I wasn't a Pure Blood, I would still be fated with you, because we were meant to be with each other."

A smile, a light, sad one, formed on Damon's lips, and I continued with a small one that glided onto my own. "All right?" I whispered.

Damon nodded, and he moved forward so that his lips were inches away from mine, my hand still in his hair. His soft lips brushed against me, skimming them once, twice, and a third time before finally pressing forward, giving us both what we wanted. I sighed into him, feeling the warmth that he gave me, and I suddenly realized that everything I said was the truth. I loved him, and I couldn't give a shit less about what the Universe wanted. I knew it from the moment I met him, and I knew it at that very moment. He was my home.

Damon's hand moved to wrap around my cheek now, deepening our kiss in just the slightest so that he moved it from sweet to more rigorous. But it was when I could feel a strong urge of happiness overwhelm me that I had to pull away, and Damon was left while I was pulled into another blurry escapade.

There was fire…two silhouettes again, and a bright light. I was inside this time; that much I could make out. The feeling of happiness, joy, and normality filled my emotions, but I still couldn't see more than shadows. I noticed that there was a tiny bit more of a black spot, but I couldn't bring myself to care. My head pounded, my heart raced, and I felt like I would throw up again. God, this sucked.

Voices…they murmured in the background, lowly at first and then, suddenly, there was a spike in my emotions and the volume. Now I was overjoyed and…and then, I was loving. I was…I was heated now, overheated. In over drive. It was…too much.

My knees buckled again, and I was caught for the second time by a figure unknown to me, and then there were whispers that filled my emotions with lust and fright.

I didn't realize it, but now I was panting. Damon shook my leg. "Madeline! Madeline!"

I turned to him sharply, my blonde hair whipping in the light breeze of the night. "Damon?" I questioned, trying to find reality in my wave of emotions. I didn't realize it, but there was a tear streaming down my cheek for some unknown reason to me.

The back of Damon's hand brushed it away. "Are you okay?"

"I…I'm fine," I said. "But Elena might not be. Those were her emotions," I pointed out. That much, I could make sense of. Everything else was an affirmative no.

"Forty-six twenty," Elena interrupted, making me and Damon turn around to face her immediately. "Walnut Drive," she concluded. "That's where they are."

Damon stood up immediately. "Get Enzo. We're finishing this now," he said briskly, and Elena nodded before turning away. Damon extended his hand to me and brought me up from the floor. "I'll make this stop, okay?"

"Damon," I said, making sure the tear was off of my face. "I'm fine. Trust me. It's just…it's just the emotions, I can feel them. That's the only thing that's not impaired, I guess." I gave a light laugh, but he just stood there. "Come on, I'll go with you."

Damon shook his head. "No, I don't want you to. Enzo and I can handle this guy."

"But, Damon—"

"I need you," Damon pulled me closer and cupped my face in his hands, "to be safe, do you understand me? This guy escaped from the prison for dead people, okay? Plus, he wants your blood. And I don't plan on giving you up to him by simply walking with you through his threshold. Got it?"

I sighed to myself, but the sincerity in his eyes were promising. I wouldn't get past this. So, I nodded and said nothing instead, and Damon tilted his head up to kiss my forehead. "I'll be back soon, all right?"

Again, I nodded, and then Enzo showed up at the doorway, he and Damon exchanged a glance, and I was left on the doorstep to watch them leave.

"Caroline!" I shouted once they were gone, and Caroline immediately came up to me.

"What is it?" she asked, frantic because of my shout. I turned to her and extended my hand.

"I need your car keys. Now."

Why was I so insistent on getting myself in danger? Well, to be honest, I'm not even sure, myself.

"You could get killed! Or taken!" Damon shouted to me.

"Oh, relax," Enzo whined to Damon, who was absolutely pissed at me for leaving the house. "We can protect her, Damon. Besides, she's already here. Not like we can send her home."

"Yeah," I agreed for the first time with the raven-haired British vampire beside me. "Listen to him, Damon, he actually makes sense when he's not insulting me….or biting me…or locking me in a closet."

Enzo sighed. "I've already apologized for that! What more could you want from me?"

"Since when did you apologize?"

"If I let you come with us, will you two stop arguing?" Damon asked, straightening. I nodded and shrugged—though it might be hard, I could handle it. "Good. Madeline, you stay between me and Enzo at all times. You understand?" I nodded, and he turned to Enzo. "First sign of trouble, you grab her, and you run."

Now, this, I had a problem with, but I didn't say anything. We continued to the modern house that looked super familiar to me, even though I'd only seen blurs. I did as Damon asked—stayed between Enzo and Damon at all times. Damon was the first one to go in, waving his hand against the threshold to test it out.

"Clear," he whispered before stepping inside, and then I followed him, and Enzo followed me. The house was a ghost house, and I nearly jumped up three feet when the door made a sound of it closing, but Damon grabbed my hand before I could get too frightened. Being a Pure Blood with vampire-mocking blood that heightens a lot of things you felt, it could get pretty tiring. And annoying. And is inconvenient a lot of the time.

"You know, I'm quite surprised that Damon's the one you're fated to be with," Enzo whispered in my ear, but he knew Damon could hear him. "If anything, I thought I'd be more of a candidate. Damon can try to be a Saint from time to time. Doesn't always work out but—"

"Enzo, I will staple your tongue to your chin," Damon whispered as he cautiously lead us through the house.

A voice scared us all—even the two vampires beside me. "Not in my house, please." We turned to face a dark figure sitting in the corner of the house with the lit fireplace the only source of heat or light.

"Markos, I take it," Damon said in a light tone, tightening his grip on my hand. Markos stood up from the chair he was sitting in and Damon smiled. "Well, I am not Stefan and this is not Elena. And you'll be dead before you lay a touch on this girl," he said, jerking his head towards me.

Markos studied me for a second, but his eyes caught on my hair. "Blonde. It's rare for a Pure Blood to change her hair color. They're usually so conservative, even when they go dark." His eyes flickered to Damon and I was sure he caught eyesight of our hands. "Well, each one's their own, I guess. Why are you here?" he asked.

"I was about to ask you the same question," Damon retorted. "Plus, what do you want, and why are the doppelgängers and the Pure Blood having visions of each other."

"First two's complicated," answered Markos simply. "Last one's easy. I'm the reason Stefan, Elena, and Madeline are all having visions together."

"You?" I repeated in disbelief.

Enzo laughed, "Well, would you look at that. I think we just met the Universe."

Damon walked forward, and so did Enzo, the both of them keeping me in stride with them so we all moved together. "You mind telling me what the hell is going on?" Damon demanded.

"The doppelgänger lore's been…misinterpreted over the ages."

"As in there is no prophecy?" Damon asked hopefully. If there was no doppelgänger prophecy, there was no Pure Blood prophecy.

"The prophecy is that the doppelgänger blood, when activated with the Pure Blood's, can help the Travelers," Markos replied. "But the doppelgängers are being drawn together because of the spell I case fifteen hundred years ago." He nodded to me and Damon. "Same with the Pure Blood and her undoer."

"My…undoer?" I repeated, almost scoffing. "What the hell is that?"

"Every Pure Blood has their weakness; the undoer is the man who turns her impure completely. But, this can be…any man, really, so she's drawn to the most impure man in her life." Markos shrugged.

Enzo sighed. "Well, that makes sense now, doesn't it?" I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"See, I didn't know where the doppelgängers were…and in order to get their blood activated, the Pure Blood has to be completely impure. And, it turns out, the best way to get people to go searching for each other is the promise of true love."

I was the only one who kept my eyes on Markos. This guy was ridiculous. Literally ridiculous. Can it even get more ridiculous than this? God, I missed when Klaus was the only thing we had to worry about. He seemed like cupcakes and unicorns compared to this guy. "Is it stuffy in here?" Markos asked. No. "Why don't we take a walk?"

Damon, Enzo, and I moved forward, because we knew we didn't have much of a choice. Before Enzo was able to walk out with me, Markos stopped him and only him. "You stay here."

Enzo scoffed. "Not bloody likely."

"You want to find Maggie?" Enzo went stiff at this. Damon tugged me so that I wasn't being exposed to Markos, and he kept his grip firm. "You stay here," he demanded. Enzo backed away, forced with the decision of keeping me safe or getting Maggie's location, and I understood. Markos turned back at me and Damon. "Shall we?"

"Mystic Falls is a beautiful town," Markos cooed to us as we walked down the streets in the town square.

"Oh, yeah," Damon indulged him. "Pickett fences…block parties…uncannily high death rate," he joked.

"You take your homes for granted," accused Markos. Damon was already peeved.

"I'm sorry, are we walking so I don't fall asleep?"

"Two thousand years ago," began Markos at Damon's rude comment, "Silas and Qetsiyah cast a spell for immortality. It created a schism in the Traveler community; giving rise to the witches. They tried to keep us scattered, make us forget how powerful we can be."

"And, thus began the war between the Travelers and the witches and it still rages on and on," Damon yawned on cue and I tried to conceal a laugh, while Markos just smiled. "Sorry," Damon said bitterly. "I just nodded off."

"The witches put a curse on us that kept us from settling down as a tribe," Markos continued, paying no attention to Damon's words. "Whenever we'd try to get together, disaster struck. Plagues, earthquakes, fire. Something inevitably wiped us out."

"Let me guess. The doppelgängers and the Pure Blood can fix this." Damon swung us around so that we were facing Markos now, stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. "So, you found them. Now what?"

"We simply need their blood," Markos told us. "But we're not your enemy Damon, and to prove that to you, I'm going to stop their visions." All of a sudden, in our small little town of Mystic Falls, people left and right stopped in the middle of the street and began to chant, over and over again. Damon and I looked back at Markos, confused.

"The curse might prevent us from gathering in our own bodies, but we found ways around that," he explained.

"Passengers," Damon whispered. "So…how many of you are there?"

Markos looked around. "A few. Here and there." A few, I scoffed. Yeah. Right. Markos turned back to me. "But, because I'm doing this, Madeline, I need something from you."

"You're not getting anything," I said, shrugging, before Damon could say it himself. I gave Markos a bitter smile, and I could see Damon have a hint of one on his own lips.

"It won't hurt anyone, I promise." I stayed in place, and he sighed. "Look, I could make you, but I don't really want to do that."

"What the hell are you—"

"Vpřed," [Forward] he said simply, and I couldn't fight it. I stepped forward involuntarily, and Markos grabbed my wrist. The Travelers began to chant louder now, and I could tell that Damon wanted to step forward, but a look on Markos's face kept him back. Markos pulled out a blade—a long, sharp one—and I winced too early before he pressed it to my wrist and, this time, I hissed in pain. It was a deep cut, but what surprised me the most was the blood that came out.

Damon and I both stared at the blood, oozing a dark, rich, ugly color—coming towards black, but not quite. Markos laughed to himself. "You're almost ready, Madeline. Our plan worked."

"What plan?" Damon asked, enraged. Markos looked up at him.

"Did you really think that sending you to an alternate reality was all a part of Katherine Pierce's diabolical plan that she came up with on her own?" Markos laughed. Damon swallowed. "No, we sent you both there, and you did just want we wanted you to do when you came back."

Damon opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Markos pressed his two fingers to my oozing wound, and I cried out in pain. Damon moved forward, but I shook my head at him to tell him to stay back. He listened to me, and then Markos began to chant, my blood coating his fingers. I tried to resist the urge to scream at the pressure he applied onto my open gash, and the chanting around us grew louder. My vision blurred violently, and I felt as if I were being crushed with emotions. It took all but a minute when the chanting stopped, Markos opened his eyes, a tear shred down my cheek involuntarily, and Markos released me from his hold. Damon caught me so that I didn't fall, and the wound was bleeding terribly on my arm.

"It's done," Markos said simply, and around us, all of the townspeople went back to being normal.

Damon and I had returned home in silence, and I went upstairs to cover my wound on my own so he wouldn't have to deal with the hunger. It surprised me, though, when I saw him in my vision as I glanced up in the mirror in his bathroom. A light laugh escaped my lips as I shuffled through the first aid kit. "It's okay, Damon, I've got this. I'm all right."

"I know," Damon said to me, but nevertheless walked forward and grabbed the first aid kit. He gestured to the counter. "Sit. It'll be better if I do it, anyway."

I thought about arguing, but instead, I just sighed and did what he asked. We were both silent while he cleared my wound with an alcohol pad and I winced at it, clenching my fist and hissing through my teeth. Damon murmured an apology, and after he was done, I spoke. "Good news is, we're not technically fated for each other," I tried, giving him a light smile. "And I still love you."

Damon scoffed. "Yeah. We were only tricked into sleeping together by a freaky witch tribe who joined forces with Katherine Pierce to get you to be impure. Like that's not a hiccup or anything…"

"It's not," I said seriously, causing him to shake his head and laugh. "I would've slept with you someday, Damon. I just…I needed to find the right time."

"And that night was not the right time," Damon filled as he ripped open a package for a gauze pad. I frowned at him.

"It doesn't matter," I said simply. He looked up at me with his melting blue eyes. "It happened. I don't regret it. At all."

Damon sighed at me. "I know."

Things were silent for the next few seconds as he put the gauze pad on my open wound and we both tried not to dwell over the fact that it would soak in a greenish/bluish color. Damon smiled at me lightly, said nothing, and put the first aid kit to the corner before walking out of the bathroom. I sighed and jumped off the counter, following him. "What's wrong?" I asked, exasperated. Today's just been a disaster.

Damon stopped in his footsteps and sighed, turning around at me. "You don't realize it, do you?"

"Realize what?"

"That the more we sleep together, Madeline, the worse it gets. The darker your blood turns and the closer the Travelers get to having all of their ingredients for their spell!" Damon shouted at me, and I flinched at his yell. "You are turning…evil, Madeline. That's basically what Markos said. The more I tempt you, the worse it gets. How are you okay with this?"

"You think I'm okay with it?" I asked, but my voice was soft. "Damon, it terrifies me. I don't want black blood, Damon, I'm just guessing here, but it's not good!" I breathed. Damon just watched me as I walked forward. "But there is nothing I want more in the world right now than to be with you. So screw all of this Traveler stuff, we can fight this."

"Not if we keep doing what we're doing," Damon protested as I walked up to him so I was now in his reach.

I shrugged and touched his arm lightly. "Then we'll stop," I suggested. His eyes drifted down to meet mine. "We've resisted each other before. We can…be together without being together, Damon."

Damon stared down at me, and I began to see a change. A sad one. He was debating his internal struggle—to listen to me or to turn away from me, I just didn't know. I think he decided the latter.

He removed my hand from his arm and it dropped to my side. "If I so much as kiss you, Madeline, I won't ever want to stop. I love you."

I nodded. "I know." It was as simple as that. I was a fool to think Damon Salvatore could be controlled. He can't, he just can't. Truth be told, I wasn't a hundred percent sure I could, either. "So what are we supposed to do?"

"You and I will be together," he promised. "But…I just…I can't be with you. I can't…I can't see you." Damon's voice was hopeless. "If I do, I'll ruin everything. I just…I can't."

I was heartbroken—lost. Of course. Something had to screw this up again. I wasn't mad about it, per say, because Damon made himself clear. We would be together without actually being together—in the literal sense. He would stay away from me until we had this handled. "I understand," I whispered.

I turned away from him, ready to leave, but his hand caught my shoulder, and he turned me softly back to him. "Hey," he said slowly, and I saw him reach into his pocket while his finger rested under my chin to keep I tilted towards him. My eyes drifted down, and I saw a small box in his hand. "Now that you've gotten your memories back, I guess you know what this is. And why I'm giving it to you now—?"

I shook my head. "Don't," I said desperately, enclosing my hands around his fingers, which were prying the box open. "Not right now. Not right now. I don't want to see it today." Damon raised his eyebrows. "When this is over, you can give it to me, but right now, I want you to keep it." Damon didn't look hurt, he looked surprised, and I smiled up at him, reaching up to brush the back of my hand across his cheek. "I love you, Damon."

Damon nodded at me, and his eyes wandered across my face. "I love you, Madeline."

He kissed my forehead again, and I was deeply disappointed.

It was something I'd have to learn to live with.

Caroline, Elena, and I drove back to Whitmore together, and when I was finally back in the dorm room, it felt foreign to me. The last time I was here, I didn't know who "Madeline Gilbert" was, I only knew Madeline Reichs. This time, though, this time I sat down on my bed as Madeline Gilbert.

It just didn't feel like home to me.

I would have to get used to it. Acquired tastes and all that.

Caroline and Elena went out to get something for us to eat after we'd had a long day, and I was alone in the dorm room for about fifteen minutes. I had changed, tied my hair up, and I was now sitting cross-legged on my bed, not knowing what the hell I should do.

Luke's words came back to me.

"It should be somewhere, she just needs to focus and she can bring it back."

Focus and bring it back…focus and bring it back. Would that really work? Could I just make it appear out of thin air?

Might as well try it.

With a sigh, I twirled the ends of my hair on my fingertips, brushed back the ponytail, and straightened so that I wasn't hunching. I placed my hands over the bed and tried to copy all of Bonnie's positions when she did magic. I…guess this is magic? I don't know.

I concentrated—hard, remembering what the book looked like and how it felt. I opened my eyes a few times, but nothing was there. I was about to give up when I saw something peak at me from underneath Caroline's bed.

No…fucking…way, I thought to myself as I slid off of my bed and grabbed the peaking object. Sure enough, there it was, the big, fat, antiquated book now sitting in my hands. Pure Blood was marked on the cover in antique letters. I let out a relieved breath. But something hit me with a gasp that escaped through my own mouth. Desire. Passion.

Damon.

For a split moment, for some unknown reason to me, everything was Damon. I could feel him on me, the pads of his fingertips, the soft skin of his lips. I was frozen, but none of this was voluntary. I was sucked into something...something dark.

"You might want to take a shower, Madeline…." A voice chuckled. I spun around instantly the feeling of complete paralysis escaping me finally, and I gasped when I saw a girl, covered in dirt, sitting on my bed with no care in the world.

Not this again, I thought as I saw the face of myself, just caked in gross dirt.

She laughed, high-pitched and girlishly.

"You're filthy."

I don't know why, but that makes me laugh. I don't know, don't ask me. It's pretty scary, though, if you think about it. Anyways, again, this is a long chapter so the A/N's short. I hope you liked it! Again, any questions, just send them my way. I'll either answer them in the next chapter or over PM. Review if you can.

Love,

BellaSalvatore1918

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