Author's Note: I was starting to think I wasn't going to get this chapter out before I went to the gym again and I really freaking wanted to. It's back to my normal length and in Damon's POV. It was a hard one to write, I've changed everything a million times. It was just hard to get the flow right. I hope you all like it. Thank you to all of the awesome reviews that I'm getting. I'm getting so many long, passionate ones and it just means so much to me that so many of you have gotten so involved in this story. I only hope that I can continue to bring you all a good story. Enjoy!
Chapter 25
Leave all your love and longing behind you
Can't carry it with you if you want to survive
Damon slowly stood up and stared across the room at his brother. "You're treading on very thin ice right now, Stefan. I'd watch my step if I were you."
"Why?" Stefan challenged. "Can't handle the truth?"
"Oh, I can handle it," he scoffed, "But what you're spouting is complete crap. Own that."
Stefan mockingly laughed. "There's nothing to own. I'm just being honest."
"You know what? Screw this. I'm walking to the church. If you can't support my decision, don't bother showing up." He didn't have to sit around and listen to these insults from his brother anymore. Andie was his choice. She was the woman he was going to marry, and he didn't want to listen to Stefan's opinions anymore.
"For someone who made it their mission to go after Elena for running away, you seem to have done a lot of it yourself this past year!" Stefan called after him. "Can you even remember the last conversation you didn't walk out on because you didn't want to deal with it anymore?"
Even though he had one foot out of the door, he turned and slammed it loudly behind him. "I don't run away. I just don't have the desire to listen to a bunch of meaningless crap. So, when what you're running off at the mouth about is a bunch of made up stuff, yeah, I'm gonna leave."
"Damon!" All heads in the room snapped to the attention of the hissing blonde in the hallway. "You wake Sawyer up and I will beat you with my shoe."
Feeling remorseful, he solemnly apologized. "Sorry."
She rolled her eyes and looked to her husband. "Stefan, we all know you mean well, but I think we've heard enough of your opinions for the moment, so maybe keep it to yourself for a little bit. Damon, come with me." She gave him a pointed gaze then turned on her heel, and walked back to the bedroom. She stopped inside the bedroom and held the door open for him until he slowly followed her in. Once he was inside, she softly closed the door and stepped toward him. "Talk to me. What's going on?"
Seeing her standing in front of him, he had a moment to take in the subtle puffiness of her eyes, and the redness of her eyes. "Have you been crying?" he asked her with worry evident in his voice.
"I have a son that's spent most of his day crying, it's only natural for me to do a little crying with him. Moms get upset when we can't figure out what's wrong with our child," she explained, but he had strong doubts about the honesty of her statement. He could see that something else was wrong, and it didn't have anything to do with Sawyer.
"Want to try that again?"
"I don't know where my best friend is. I might be a little scared, okay?" She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.
Slightly annoyed with himself for even thinking of offering what he was about to offer, he ran a frustrated hand over his face. He could give Caroline the answer she wanted before his wedding even happened. He didn't want to know where Elena was, but he also didn't want to leave his sister-in-law to spend the rest of the day in a worried panic over her either. So, he reluctantly offered, "I can have her phone traced."
Her head shot up in surprise and he could see a ray of relief blossom in her eyes. Only a moment later, the look faded and she shook her head. "No, I can't do that to her. She'll tell me when she wants me to know."
"Have you talked to her?" He didn't know why he was asking. Did he even really want to know? He'd sent her away for a reason. So he quickly retracted his question. "Nevermind, I don't want to know."
"It's okay to wonder," she whispered. "It doesn't have to change anything."
"It changes everything." He couldn't think about Elena or how she was doing. There was no room in his head for any of those thoughts. There hadn't been for the past year. It was why he'd worked so hard to keep her at such a distance. He'd known this would happen. He'd wanted the anger – needed it. Because if he didn't have that burning fury inside of him, then he had these moments of worry. He couldn't worry or care. It was too exhausting and daunting. There had been more moments of weakness than he'd care to admit this past year. She confused him and was always throwing him off balance, never content to let things remain in the past. That wasn't something he could afford today. Andie had to be his focus.
Damon sighed as he unwrapped another plate from newspaper before setting it gently on the counter. This was the fourth china pattern that he had found in Caroline and Stefan's boxes since he'd started helping them unpack two weeks ago. Did they not believe in throwing out anything that they'd received as a wedding gift?
Even though they had the housewarming party two weeks ago, there was still a lot that needed to be unpacked. They'd unpacked just enough to make the living room and dining room look halfway complete for the party, but had slowly been unpacking the rest since then. Between Stefan and Caroline's schedule, and her nighttime "morning" sickness, unpacking was taking forever. Hence why he had been roped into helping them during his spare time.
"I don't think I've ever heard you quite so quiet." Caroline's voice pulled his attention away from the current plate in his hand. She entered the kitchen, carrying a box that he was assuming contained even more kitchen items.
He rushed around the counter to grab the hefty box from her. "Will you put that down before Stefan comes in and bites my head off for letting you carry heavy objects?"
"I expect this from Stefan, but not from you," was Caroline's swift response. "I'm not an invalid."
"Yeah, well, I'm not in the mood for a lecture. Just tell me next time you have a heavy box that you need to be moved."
"Fine," she agreed with a small groan.
"Oh knock it off, you love it." After he set the box down on the floor for her, he returned to the counter and retrieved a plate from the box he was currently unpacking.
He looked up to see a small smile spread across Caroline's face. "Just don't tell Stefan."
"Yeah, cause he doesn't know what you're like at all. You two have to be the most disgustingly codependent couple I've ever seen in my life."
"Don't be an ass," she chided him as she moved behind him to grab a plate and help him unpack the remaining dishes. "And just because Stefan and I actually like to have conversations it doesn't mean that we're codependent."
"I have conversations with Andie," he immediately shot down her subtle stab at his relationship with Andie.
"Saying each other's names during sex doesn't count."
He cringed and visibly shuddered at his sister-in-law's words. "Please never discuss my sex life again."
"And stop acting like you've never had a real relationship before. I remember you and Elena being pretty codependent once upon a time."
He dropped the plate roughly onto the counter, making Caroline gasp in horror. "I'm not obligated to help you unpack your crap. You better watch your mouth."
Caroline, as always, was not deterred by his threat and pushed ahead. "It's not like you can avoid her, Damon. She's not halfway across the country anymore. She's here."
"New York is a big city; I can avoid her just fine."
"She's my best friend," she pointed out.
He rolled his eyes at the reminder of the bond between Caroline and Elena. "Yeah, some best friend," he scoffed. "How many times did she come see you in the past two years, Caroline?" When she didn't say anything he continued on. "That's what I thought. Elena's only best friend is herself. She didn't just leave me when she moved, she left you too."
"She was going through a lot." No matter what Elena had done over the past two years, Caroline always defended her. She could concede that Elena's decision was not wise, but she stuck up for her no matter what. He was almost beginning to understand why people found his relationship with Stefan so annoying sometimes.
"So was I, but I didn't go running off to the other side of the country."
"No, you just dragged your brother out of bed multiple times a week to come carry your ass out of a bar."
He flinched at the reminder of those rough months after Elena left. He had been a mess, on a downward spiral that nobody had been able to stop, leaving his brother and Caroline to get caught up in it on a regular basis. For longer than he would care to admit, he probably spent more time at Stefan and Caroline's place than his own. It had become such a frequent occurrence that it became more of a shock to wake up in his own bed.
"I know," he admitted softly, and he could see Caroline immediately deflate. "Stefan did a lot more than he had to for me," he paused and looked over at her. "You both did." Even though her friendship and loyalty to Elena might get on his nerves on occasion, he couldn't deny the support she'd also given to him over the years.
Her eyes stayed locked on his for a few moments and he could see the beginning of tears forming in her blue gaze, but she quickly blinked it away. She pushed the bittersweet feelings aside and shrugged her shoulders casually. "Yeah, well you're my brother."
"Aw," he sniffled and pulled her toward him, "You're gonna make me cry."
"Ugh!" Caroline groaned and fought to escape his grasp, but he held tight, laughing as she continued to wiggle. "You're such an asshole, Damon Salvatore."
"I'm your brother. You love me!" He playfully ruffled her hair, which gave her enough room to punch him in the stomach and dart away. "I just wanted a hug."
Caroline ran to the other side of the island, placing a barrier between them so he could not get to her. "I can't believe I tried to have a nice moment with you."
"And what a nice moment it was," he told her as he rounded the island. "Come on, bring it in for another hug, Blondie."
"I don't want to hug you!" She skirted out of his reach and fled the kitchen. "You made fun of me when I was trying to be nice."
"But it's what we do!" he called after her, running into the living room to find her standing in front of the television.
"You don't make fun of a hormonal, pregnant woman, Damon! You are cruel and mean!"
"Caroline," he lowered his voice to a charming drawl, "You love it when we pick on each other. It's our special thing."
"No," she growled, "You need to be nice to me. I'm pregnant!" She snatched a book off the coffee table and held it high above her head. "Don't come any closer. I'll throw it."
"You'd never risk marring my perfect features." He smirked and stepped toward her. She reared her arm back and lobbed the book at him, however due to her poor throwing skills, it hit the ground before it ever reached him. "You have an arm like a girl," he teased. He bent down to pick the book up, but froze when he saw what it was. Something cold swept down his spine as he picked it up, memories coming back of the day Elena had given him the book. "When did you get this?" he questioned, his voice now quiet and distant.
Caroline's eyes widened in fear when she saw the book in his hands. She shook her head, stumbling with the words she needed to come out of her mouth. "I," she swallowed thickly, "Elena gave them to me."
The book felt heavy in Damon's hand as he stared down at it. "Oh." Elena had still been scared and apprehensive of the pregnancy when she'd given him the book. While he had adjusted to her pregnancy with relative ease, she hadn't been as lucky. Most times she had seemed almost angry at her situation, unable to accept how she'd really ended up in that position. Then she bought the books and they had the scare with her bleeding and it all changed. She opened up and began to come to terms with everything. She was happy and excited. She wasn't afraid to plan anything anymore or discuss the baby. Every night that she didn't work, she'd curl up in their bed and read the books she'd bought. Then, she lost the baby and the books disappeared. He'd thought they were just gone. "I didn't know she kept them."
"I…yeah," she mumbled.
He cleared his throat and dropped the book on the couch. "I should get back to unpacking. At this rate, I'll still be helping you in a month." He turned and retreated back into the kitchen, leaving a flustered Caroline in the living room. Seeing the book and holding it in his hands had brought up things better left in his memory.
Having Elena back in New York at the same time that Caroline was pregnant was a curse as much as it was a blessing. In some ways, it gave him a chance to inflict pain upon her in a way he'd never get to otherwise. In others, it was like ripping the Band-Aid off of a two-day old wound that has only just begun to heal, but then becomes infected from the exposure to the toxins around it. That's what she was, infectious. One encounter with her forced all emotions not fit for his head into this wound and spread them through his body. It was painful and annoying and downright untimely.
God, she just ruined everything. She messed up the fun moment he was having with Caroline even though she wasn't physically here. She messed up the easy relationship he'd built with Andie by breezing back into town like nothing had changed. She even messed up him telling her that Caroline was pregnant. Running into her in the hallway last week had thrown him for a loop. He'd rounded the corner, prepared for an evening with his brother, only to find her crying. No matter how much he hated it, the sight did something to him. She looked beaten down and alone. And as she'd tearfully told him that she hadn't told Caroline about what he'd said to her, he knew that the look on her face was because of him.
It should have made him feel proud. That was what he wanted, right? He wanted her to be in pain. He wanted her to know what it felt like to have her heart ripped out with no warning and no remorse. He wanted her to feel what he felt. Seeing her so lost and sad forced the wheels in his head into motion. That was when he started thinking about her time in Chicago, and what went through her own head. Then the regret started to seep in and that was not what he wanted. He shouldn't regret a damn thing that he said to her that night or any other thing he might say to her in the future. She didn't deserve anything from him, and he shouldn't feel bad about that.
So why did he?
"Hey, need some help?" Stefan entered the kitchen, no doubt sent in after Caroline ran to tell him what had just happened.
Damon didn't look up from breaking down the box he'd just emptied. "Please tell me I didn't make her cry."
Stefan smiled good-naturedly and shrugged his shoulders. "It's Caroline. That silly animal abuse commercial with the depressing music turns her into a sobbing mess now. I had to talk her out of adopting a dog last night."
There was nothing remotely surprising about hearing that Caroline had become a hormonal nut since getting pregnant. She was emotional on a good day, there was no telling how crazy she was going to become as her pregnancy went along. It was sure to prove for an interesting few months.
"Do I need to go apologize?" He hadn't meant to make her cry. He just didn't know what to say. The book had been a surprise, a reminder of the best and then worst time of his life. It took him to a bad place in his mind that he rarely allowed his brain to go.
Stefan came over to the island and pulled out the bar stool to take a seat. "Are you upset that Elena gave us the books?"
"No," he shook his head, "I was just surprised to see it. That's all."
"I know the book you saw was yours. You can have it back," he offered. "I'm sure Caroline is going to drown me in enough pregnancy books to give my classic literature collection a run for its money."
"Keep the book. You need it far more than I do or ever will." He wasn't naïve enough to believe that he'd ever go down the path of being a parent. He'd wanted to take a shot at it with Katherine, but once she found out she'd never biologically have children, she took any chance away from them of having children. By pure chance, he'd wound up on that path with Elena and embraced it, letting himself believe for just a moment that he could be a father and be good at it. The moment they were told the baby was gone, his chance to be a parent was gone with it. He'd never open himself up to that idea ever again.
Stefan wisely chose to not open the topic up for discussion and focused on his wife. "You mind telling her that? She already feels bad for accepting the books from Elena."
"She has nothing to feel bad about." If Elena wanted to give Caroline those books then she could give them to her. He didn't care. He wasn't going to read any of them.
"So go tell her," Stefan urged him. "I can't deal with many more tears from her, and I have a really high tolerance already. Just have some mercy on your baby brother."
"Fine," Damon groaned, "I'll go comfort your wife. Just be warned, I'm not very good with comfort beyond the sexual kind."
"You know, I kind of want you to try it," Stefan laughed. "I think I'd pay to see Caroline knee you in your groin."
"I don't know, it might make her realize what she's been missing all this time. She might finally see who the better brother is."
"I am content in my belief that Caroline will not leave me for you or any other guy out there."
"Eh," Damon rolled his eyes, "You're probably right. She's just insane enough to stay with you for the rest of her crazy, dramatic life."
Caroline and Stefan certainly had a solid marriage that Damon didn't see ever ending. They were freakishly codependent and attached to each other. There was an innate love and respect that they had, and he didn't believe anyone could tarnish it. They had the real thing in a world where so many people failed to ever find it.
"Just go make her stop crying."
Damon sighed and set off to find Caroline. She was back in her bedroom, sitting on the bed with an ultrasound photo in her hands. Her cheeks were blotchy from crying. "Come on, Blondie. You know I hate it when you cry." It was true. Even though she dissolved into tears more times than he could probably count, he still found something innately wrong in it. Someone as bubbly and perky as her should not cry. It simply wasn't natural. "Please stop."
She inhaled a shaky breath and wiped at the moisture on her face. "I know you and Elena say you're happy, but I can't help feeling bad."
Her words were like a knife to the chest. For all the grief he gave her, he really did love her like a sister. Even if he got lost in his anger with Elena sometimes, he didn't mean to cause her pain. "Caroline," he began sadly.
"You tell me you're okay, but I see the looks, Damon. I know it still hurts, and that hurts me. I don't want to cause you pain. You can have the books back. Elena was just trying to be nice. Please don't be mad at her."
"I think it's time for one of our very rare serious chats." He walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed. With a gentle touch, he squeezed one of her legs through the thin blanket. "You have nothing to be sorry about. What happened with Elena and me happened a long time ago. It has nothing to do with you and Stefan having a baby. This is all about you; and whatever Elena and I feel or think or have going on with us, it's on us. You don't need to be sad or feel any differently about being pregnant because of me."
"I saw your face, Damon," she cried.
"So what?" he questioned, raising his arms for effect. "I haven't seen that book in over two years. It was a surprise."
"But—"
"But nothing," he cut her off. "You need to stop worrying about me and Elena. We're going to feel how we feel. You'll only make me feel worse if you cry like this all the time. I can't have sex with you. I don't know how fix this stuff. I'm only good for conversations like this every five to ten years. You've reached your limit." He shrugged his shoulders casually. "So unless you want me to seduce you, I need you to just be happy. If I seduce you, then you'll fall in love with me, and it will be one big mess. I'll have stolen another of Stefan's girls and he'll try to beat me up, but only break his hand, because he hits like a girl. Really, it will just lead to so much trouble. So, if you want to make me feel better, I need you to be crazy, obnoxiously over-the top, Caroline about your pregnancy. I want to know so many details I contemplate stabbing my ears with an ice pick."
"You turn everything into a joke," she whined. "This isn't funny, Damon. I just want everyone to be happy, and I hate that you're all so unhappy. You and Elena can't be in the same room. She feels horrible, but she can't say it. Nobody can say anything around Andie, because you haven't told her anything. You, you're just angry at everything. I can't fix any of it because nobody listens to anything I say, because you all think I'm dramatic and overly sensitive."
"Caroline," he tried to hold his laughter in as he spoke to her, but sometimes her antics were beyond humorous, "You don't have to fix everything. You freak out because you think that you do, but you don't. We have to deal with things ourselves. I have to handle things on my own. I know you wish I'd do things differently, but that's not going to happen. You need to focus on Stefan and having a baby. Everything will get fixed in its own time, whether you help us or not."
"But you all take so long!"
"Well, we're just not as smart as you, obviously."
"Duh!" She rolled her eyes, and the tension was broken. She dissolved into a fit of giggles, which was only contagious as Damon began to laugh himself. "I'm sorry," she apologized between laughter. "I think I must be having a girl, because I have to be carrying enough hormones for two girls. There's no way this is a boy."
"I hate to break it to you, Caroline, but I'm pretty sure this is all you." While it was certainly possible that she was having a girl, he believed it was more likely that these were just her normal wacky hormones with pregnancy thrown in to make them more intense.
Caroline sniffed and wiped at her eyes. "You're lucky I like you now. I wouldn't have let you get away with that three years ago."
"You would have hit me," he readily agreed.
They'd come a long way in the past few years. Once, when he thought she was little more than a shallow, spoiled blonde, who would only hurt his brother, he lived to get on her last nerve. Now, after he'd seen the affect she'd had on his brother and the love she had for him, he realized there was much more to the surface than a perky blonde with a penchant for high-pitched squealing.
"Thank you, Damon," she said quietly. "I know you don't like the whole crying female thing."
"You're certainly the only one I'd do it for." He sighed and held his hand out to her. "Come on, let me see it."
"I don't know what you're talking about," she denied with a coy smile.
"We both know you went to the doctor yesterday and got new ultrasound pictures. Give it. You know you're dying to."
She smiled broadly and held the ultrasound photo out for him. "I can't believe your brother hasn't shown you. He showed it to our doorman when we got home yesterday." She twisted around on the bed so she was sitting next to him and pointed down at a small spot in the middle. "That's the baby! It has little fingernails and toenails now!"
"Who told you that? Google?" he teased her.
"Shut up, you're just jealous that you don't have adorable little baby fingers."
"Yes, Caroline, I am absolutely seething with jealousy because I don't have fingers the size of a grain of rice."
"Whatever, my baby is adorable and awesome! You'll see!"
"If it spends enough time with me, it will be," he agreed.
"Everything good in here?" Stefan stood in the doorway, taking in the scene in front of him with a small smile. "No more tears?"
"No more tears!" Caroline declared. "I'm showing Damon the ultrasound right now."
Stefan grinned broadly and crossed the room to sit down next to Caroline on the bed. He rested his head on her shoulder to stare down at the small, grainy picture. "You know it has fingernails now?"
"What?" Damon exclaimed. "No way! This is totally new information."
"Oh, shut up!" Stefan reached behind Caroline and slapped him on the head. "You're such a dick."
"You're just a bundle of new information." Damon swung his arm and returned the slap he'd received.
Before Stefan could hit Damon again, Caroline grabbed his arm and brought it in front of her. "Hands to yourself, you two."
"I think this is my cue to leave," Damon announced, rising from the bed. "Sharing a bed with the two of you is where I draw the line." He enjoyed spending time with his brother and Caroline, but this was a little too close for comfort.
"I thought you were going to have dinner with us," Caroline protested.
He had planned on having dinner with them, but after the conversation with Caroline, he realized he had something else he needed to do. Whatever was going on with him and Elena, Caroline didn't need to be involved. Obviously she was going to be around for the foreseeable future and they needed to figure out a way to keep things somewhat civil in front of Caroline. He could not predict how he would react to her if he ran into her alone, but he would make somewhat of an effort around others.
Caroline and Stefan didn't need to know about this plan though. "I have something that I need to do. Dinner later this week?"
"Yeah," Stefan easily agreed. "I'll call you tomorrow."
"Okay, you two have fun. Please wait to start having sex until I'm out of the apartment."
He departed their house with a quick wave and set out on his mission to see Elena. There was no reason for him to know where she lived, but he did. He had found out where her new apartment was the day after Caroline and Stefan's housewarming party. It wasn't too far from her old place and was close to her old bar, but in a nicer building, probably safer too. He still remembered her old building and thinking that it was only a matter of time before she came home to find every item of value that she had gone.
It was easy enough to travel the distance to her place and by the time he got to her door, he was ready to get it over with. He didn't want to have a long, drawn out conversation. He didn't want to listen to apologies or crying. He didn't need to hear her reasons for anything that she did. He just wanted to figure out how to keep him from dealing with Caroline ruining his suits with her tears, and then leave. Then he could go home and have a nice, long bottle of scotch for dinner.
He knocked on her door with a heavy fist, ready to get in there and get done what needed to be done. Moments later, she opened the door, clad in a pair of cotton shorts that were a little too short and a small t-shirt that was just a little too tight, hugging to every curve of her chest and torso. Her face glistened with sweat and her chest rose and fell rapidly with short breaths, inadvertently drawing his eyes to her rounded breasts. However, the second she realized he was in her hallway, she stopped breathing, frozen in shock. There was no doubt in his mind that he had been the last person she had been expecting to see on the other side of her door when she opened it. She finally swallowed and managed to choke out his name, "Damon."
Not in the mood for the pleasantries, he pushed past her into her apartment. "We need to talk." He took a moment to take in the scattered boxes in her living room, items in disarray as she must have been unpacking when he arrived, but he didn't focus on it long before swinging around to fix her with a solid gaze. "Look, we need to get a few things settled. I'd rather not spend the better part of my afternoon comforting a crying, emotional Caroline, so we should get ground rules set up."
"Is Caroline okay?" she asked in a small panic as she shut her door and went to her phone.
Before she could attempt to make any contact with her friend he snatched the phone from her hand and turned it off. "She's fine, that's not the point. The point is that we need to figure out how to be in the same room with each other, so Caroline can bring it down to a level as close to normal as she'll ever get."
"How did you even find out where I lived?" she questioned after she tried to retrieve her phone, but when he shoved it into his pocket she backed off.
"I have my ways, but again, not the point. Think you can stay on topic, or do you want to continue this game of Twenty Questions?" Annoyed, she snapped her mouth shut and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm going to take that as compliance. So, let's get right down to it. I'll try to play nice if you can manage to keep the sight of your face from pissing me off too much."
"And how do I go about doing that?"
"I don't know, Elena," he told her with exasperation. "Wear a mask? It's not really my problem. Figure it out yourself. Put that Master's degree to work." She flinched and he knew that he was being harsh a lot harsher than he'd planned, but she opened that door, looking more attractive than he'd prepared himself for and it got under his skin. The sexual attraction had never even been close to being one of their problems in their relationship and the reminder frustrated him. Couldn't she have gotten ugly while she was in Chicago?
She averted her eyes from him. "Anything else?"
"Yeah, just a couple more things. Don't talk. The sound of your voice just makes me cringe. Actually, everything about you makes me cringe. However, Caroline is sensitive, i.e. effing psycho. So, since I'm going to have to put up with you in the same room as me, I guess I'll just have to figure out how to deal with the sound of your voice, which means you have to deal with the fact that I don't want anything to do with you. It would probably be in your best interest to stay ten to fifteen feet away from me. Don't look at me. Don't talk to me. If I'm talking to Caroline, don't approach us. Maybe make excuses as often as you can to not show up at things that I'll be at. Those rules sound simple enough or should I write them down?"
"You don't really expect that to work, do you?" she asked, with a small edge to her voice. "She's my best friend, Damon. I've missed enough and I don't want to miss anymore."
"You know the solution to that, Elena?" he demanded. "Don't fucking leave for two years! If you don't want to miss time with your best friend, don't move halfway across the damn country!"
"I know this."
"Really?" He raised his eyebrows in skeptical amusement. "Could have fooled me."
"For someone who wants to stick to the point, you really are straying from it."
"Oh, look who's got some of her bite back," he taunted. "Or, at least trying to. You're right though; I digress. So, think we can manage to be in the same room?"
"I'm not the one who has trouble being in the same room," she told him quietly. "It wasn't me who revealed that Caroline was pregnant just to be an asshole."
"That's old news. Let's move on, shall we?"
"Why?" she snapped. "It's not like you're going to move on from something I did two years ago."
"Hold on!" he cut in. "Let's get one thing straight, here. What I did is nothing in comparison to what you did."
"You're right," she agreed. "I didn't intentionally set out to hurt you." She shoved a finger in his direction. "You did."
"You deserve every second of pain that you feel," he spat. "And if I happen to be the one inflicting it, even better."
"Nice, Damon. Really nice."
"You know what, Elena? It might actually help things with Caroline if you didn't have to be the victim all the time."
"Victim?" she repeated. "How do I do that?"
He rolled his eyes at the utter shock in her voice. Was she serious? "I don't know, maybe with your incessant tears and sobbing. Always saying how you're such a horrible person and made so many mistakes while I'm being honest with you only serves to make it look like evil Damon is being mean to the poor, little Elena. She was going through a rough time, Damon. She lost a baby, Damon. That was cruel, Damon. Everywhere I fucking turn everyone is making excuses for you and you just sit around with that broken look on your face like I've ruined your life when I haven't done anything to you!"
"I did lose a baby, Damon!" she screamed, at the end of her rope. "And it was rough. It was horrible. I woke up every day and I couldn't breathe. I was completely suffocated by everyone looking at me, just waiting for me to react how they wanted me to. So, I ran. I was scared and I ran!"
"I lost a baby too!" Damon shouted. "You weren't the only one that things sucked for, Elena! I was scared too, but I stayed! I didn't run off and abandon the person that needed me!"
"I messed up! I get it!" Flustered, she ran her hands through her hair as she tried to compile her thoughts. "God, Damon, I couldn't even take care of myself. I couldn't stand to look in the mirror, because all I could see was how it was my fault. I didn't want the baby and then it was gone, and I felt horrible. Nothing anyone said could fix the fact that I blamed myself. So yes, I gave up, and ran away. I ruined everything. I know that. I just want to try and make things better."
"If you'd just opened your eyes you would have realized that it wasn't your fault. God, Elena the doctors all told you it wasn't your fault! People lose babies for no good reason, but it doesn't mean you give up on your life!"
"I know," she cried, her tears now making their predicted appearance. "But it didn't change how I felt – how I still feel. Nobody will ever understand what it was like. You don't get it. You were excited and so ready for everything, but I was mad. I know it was wrong, but I was mad that I got pregnant. I knew that I wasn't ready and that I didn't know how to take care of a baby, but then I saw it and it was all real. By the time I was happy, it was all over and it was just gone. I know in my head that I didn't lose it just because it had been hard to accept, but I still think that I must have done something wrong. I had to have missed something. There's no other explanation. It had to be me. It had to."
As she broke down in front of him, dissolving into a fit of sobs, he ached to reach out to her. He'd known she'd believed it was her fault, but she'd never put it in those words before. She'd said it briefly, but never like that. He'd tried to tell her that it wasn't her. Everyone had tried to tell her, but she'd been convinced. She was so stuck in her own belief that it was her fault that logic couldn't get through to her.
Slowly, he shook his head and backed away from her. "I can't do this. I won't." He wasn't going to go down this road with her. It wouldn't lead anywhere or solve anything. No, he wouldn't do it again. He had to get out of here. He had to leave.
"Damon," she cried, when he walked past her, reaching out to stop him, but he brushed her off.
"No," he snapped, pushing her back when she reached for him again. "I'm not doing this again. I can't look at you right now."
He couldn't. Watching her cry about the miscarriage brought everything back and it made him mad. It was wrong, but it was how he felt. While she hated herself for the miscarriage, he hated her for that. He hated her because she gave up, and that beat out any need or desire he had to comfort her. His attempts had fallen on deaf ears before; there was no reason to think they wouldn't now.
"I'm sorry."
"I don't know what to tell you," he said quietly when he got to the door, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He could tell her all day long that it wasn't her fault, but if she still believed it after two years, he wouldn't change her mind now. For some reason she needed it to be her fault. It didn't make sense if she didn't have some explanation, and that was the one she was sticking with. Unable to turn around and look at the broken look on her face, he softly told her, "I think you just need therapy, Elena. A lot of it." Then he opened the door and left. Her apartment was suffocating, choking the life out of him, and he needed air. He needed space from her and everything that she pulled back to the surface.
He'd spent more nights than he could remember, pouring over that dreadful night that she lost the baby, and every time he ended up in the same place: it just wasn't meant to be. He didn't blame her and he never had. They'd never have a tangible reason for why it happened, and he'd accepted that. He'd made peace with the fact that they couldn't have changed anything. They'd done everything they were supposed to, and that was all they could have done. He hoped she found those same answers one day, but it wouldn't be with his help.
It wasn't that that he didn't wish her well. Okay, so that was bullshit. He wished her plenty of pain, but he did hope she could resolve some feelings toward the miscarriage. He wanted her to hurt, but he'd rather it be about things that were actually her problem. God knew she had more than enough bad decisions to give her a lifetime of pain without adding made up fantasies along with them. Cause what could he really do when she stood in front of him crying about the miscarriage? He couldn't very well tell her that she was right, and that it was her fault. He knew that was a bold faced lie if he'd ever heard one, but he just didn't have a shoulder to offer her either. Being there for her, it wasn't something he could do anymore. It wasn't who he was. He'd done his part to try and help her when they were together. It wasn't his job anymore. She had to take care of herself.
Halfway down her block, when he reached into his pocket, he realized he still had Elena's phone. Groaning, and internally cursing his stupidity for leaving without giving it back to her, he turned around and retraced his steps back to her place. He really didn't want to go back and give it to her, but he couldn't exactly keep it either. Keeping it would mean he'd just have to see her some time later, and he wanted to avoid that. He only wanted to see her if it wasn't avoidable.
When he got back to her door, he could hear her soft cries coming from just inside. They were sporadic and shallow, indicating that she was close to giving herself a panic attack if she didn't calm herself down soon. So, against his better judgment, he knocked on her door. The crying ceased for a moment, and she hoarsely called out, "Who is it?"
"Elena, open the door."
"Go away, Damon," she told him from the other side.
"I have your phone. So if you'd like to actually have contact with the outside world ever again, open the door."
"Leave it out there."
Annoyed, he lightly pushed on her door to test how durable it was. When he wasn't met with much resistance, he said to her, "Your door is a piece of crap. Open it before I open it myself. And then you'll be paying someone to come fix it before you get half your stuff stolen."
"God, Damon," she groaned, "What do you want? You made your point. You hate me. I'm messed up. Leave me alone!"
"Oh, come on," he told her with exasperation. "You knew you needed therapy before five minutes ago. So, open the damn door because I'm not leaving your phone in your fucking hallway."
"I've been in therapy for a year!" she snapped. "Of course that isn't new information."
The revelation that she had in fact been in therapy took him off guard. He'd told her for months after the miscarriage that she had needed help, but she hadn't listened. She didn't want help, thought it wouldn't work, but obviously something had changed in Chicago. Maybe something had clicked in her head while she was there. Why hadn't it clicked when she was still in New York? Why did it have to take so long?
"Nothing is ever easy with you is it? Why couldn't you just go when you were here?" he asked, partly as a rhetorical question, but partly as a need to hear some answer or explanation.
"Nothing I say is going to be good enough for you. We both know you don't really care."
"Doesn't mean I don't deserve some answers." As an elderly woman slowly passed him in the hallway and gave him an annoyed look, he had to resist the urge to laugh at himself. Was he really having this conversation through a freaking door? "Elena, open the door before your elderly neighbor stabs me with her cane." They'd shared enough of their private information with the rest of the floor for one day.
The door flew open in front of him, sending him tumbling forward, as his support was ripped away from him. "Happy?" she snapped, once he'd righted himself before he fell flat on his face.
"Warning, next time," he barked at her.
Her hand shot out in front of her, her palm facing up. "Can I have my phone back now or do you need to make me feel worse?"
"You'll get your phone back soon enough," he assured her. "Just answer the question. Why couldn't you just go to therapy when you were here?"
"I was depressed and I hated myself. I didn't even want to wake up in the morning, much less go sit in an office and talk about killing my child."
"Stop staying that!" he shouted at her. He couldn't listen to her say things like that. If she wanted to believe it, that was one thing, but he didn't want to listen to it.
"It's the truth," she whispered.
"No, it's not! It's what you tell yourself to make it okay for you to keep being a martyr."
"I'm trying," she said. "I really am. I don't want to be like this."
"Well, try harder. It's not very fun to yell at you when you're going on about a bunch of crap that isn't true. I can blame a lot of things on you, but I can't exactly tell you that you killed our baby."
"Why not? You want to hurt me; that's your perfect opening. You know it would kill me."
He did know it would kill her. If he told her he believed that it was her fault, he'd validate everything she'd told herself for the past two and a half years. There would be no pain left to cause after that. She'd be irretrievably broken beyond repair.
"I may hit pretty low, but even I have a point. That's definitely it."
"You didn't seem to mind hitting below the belt at Caroline and Stefan's party."
He shrugged his shoulders. "I still maintain that I was doing you a favor."
She blew out a sarcastic laugh. "You're just a helpful guy, aren't you?"
"Oh, don't even try to play that game with me," he warned her.
"What game?"
He scoffed and looked at her with judgmental eyes. "The one where you're the victim."
Her head fell and she sadly shook her head. "Will you ever give me the chance to try and make things better?"
He gave her the courtesy of thinking about her question for a minute, but he knew it was useless. His answer wasn't going to change. He was still going to be a dick, and she was still going to be pathetic and a waste of his time. Her pleas to try and do anything to change their situation would only fall on deaf ears. And that's what he told her. "I think the better question would be if I would ever even believe a word that came out of your mouth. The answer is no. You're not ever getting a chance for anything with me."
"Why is it so impossible for you to believe that I might actually feel remorse and want to make things right?" she demanded softly.
"Because you're a selfish bitch!" he snapped at her. "You just feel sorry that everyone isn't groveling at your feet anymore. Get over it, Elena. Find a new therapist, a better one, and move on. Everyone else has."
"I don't think I can move on until I fix things."
"Well, I'd work on fixing that goal if I were you, because that's never going to happen. You screwed up your entire life and tried to take me down with you. This isn't something that can be fixed."
"I can try!"
"Whatever," he sighed and rolled his eyes, "I've had more of you today than I can handle." He turned around and walked to her door. He'd spent more than enough time listening to her today; he really didn't want to get into a long, drawn out talk where she sobbed about how bad she felt for what she'd done to him. He had to go home. He couldn't do this anymore.
"Wait," she called out, "What are you doing?"
"Leaving," he said over his shoulder. "Should look familiar. You perfected it."
"This didn't fix anything about how we'll be in the same room together. Nothing is resolved."
After he opened the door, he turned and looked at her. "Tell you what, I'll promise not to call you a narcissistic bitch in Caroline's presence or reveal anymore pregnancies. Problem solved." He pulled her phone out of his pocket and tossed it to her. "Here's your phone. Catch." With that, he stepped out of her apartment and slammed the door with a hollow thud.
She was right; nothing was resolved with them. He still couldn't stand the sight of her, and he truthfully didn't know if that would ever change. If he ever thought for a moment that he could look at her and see something other than rage for more than five minutes, every time he set eyes on her disproved that theory. He'd do his best not to make her cry while Caroline was around, but any other time was fair game. No amount of apologies or tears would take away his desire to tell her anything and everything he thought of her. It would do her well to accept her fate sooner rather than later.
No matter how many moments they just had like that, it wouldn't have any lasting affect on him. People might tell him he was holding onto a grudge that he should let go of, but it wasn't that simple. He knew how Elena worked. If he opened himself up for two minutes to her, she'd be in. He couldn't let that happen. He would never allow himself to go back to a single place ever again that would leave him vulnerable to her, even friendship. Where they had once had an easy rapport, they would never have it again. If he didn't make her truly understand that things would never change, she wouldn't stop trying. She'd never give up and that would be a waste of everyone's time and energy. She might think that there was something to fight for, but there was nothing.