Just a head's up: I hate most of this chapter...

-E

"Okay." Damon said after a few minutes. "I can't sleep now. Thank you very much." He said sarcastically.

"You're welcome." Elena said, laughing as she sat up against the headboard. "Why can't you sleep?"

"Because I can't figure out what they would hide from us." He said exasperated. "There is nothing Gray asks Giuseppe to keep from me. I knew about you – not you're name or anything specific but I knew Gray had a daughter and I knew about Miranda." He said as he stared at the ceiling.

"What did you know about her?" Elena asked quietly, refusing to meet his eyes.

"He would tell me stories about when he, Gray and Miranda were all kids." He grinned and sat up. "They were best friends since they were all the same age and their dad's were all part of the Vagrants." He touched her chin gently and pulled her to meet his gaze. "They would play hide and seek in the waste land around the clubhouse." He smiled at her, trying to make her remember the good things about her mum. "My dad and your mum used to always team up on Gray and attack him from behind. I remember one night at a barbecue a few years ago the three of us sat up talking about everything. Give them a couple beers and they'll tell you anything." He laughed remembering the night they had talked until dawn. "Giuseppe told me about my mum and when they were kids. She hated Miranda, Grayson and Giuseppe until Giuseppe finally grew up and got to know her. Gray told me about how they had all grown up together and been inseparable for most of their lives. They were like a little family of their own as kids. They still act like kids most of the time."

"I feel like you know Grayson better than I do." She murmured sadly. "And as if you know more about Miranda that I do. She never talked about her past." She said quietly, never breaking eye contact with him. "It was like she didn't want to remember what it had been like before me."

"She wouldn't want you to be longing for a life that wasn't safe. The way they describe it, it seems like they had an amazing childhood." He said gently, desperately trying to let her know she could talk to him.

"I know, but a motorcycle club like this is like a family. You grew up with Tyler and Matt and probably even Caroline." She said quietly, her eyes far away. In the short while he had known her she had successfully distanced herself from everything remotely emotional or serious. This was the most open she had been with him, and he doubted she would be as open any time soon.

"Family is family, Elena." He mumbled to her. "I had mine growing up and you had yours."

He saw her grin split across her face even in the darkness of his room. It made him smile too. "I was an only child so when I found people my own age I stuck to them like glue." She laughed brightly. "There was one guy, Jake, who was older than me but for some reason I never stopped bugging him. He gave up trying to get rid of me and let me hang around him and his friends. The people I met while constantly following him around when I was three years old are still my some of my best friends. We grew up like a family." The smile slid dramatically off of her face. "I didn't get to say goodbye to him. I just had to leave." She spoke in a monotone, staring at a blank piece of wall behind his head. "The house was burning and suddenly Grayson was behind me begging me to drive and leave and all I could do was jump onto that bike and drive here."

"You'll see them again." He promised her. "You won't be sad forever, Elena." He whispered in her ear.

"It's just... She was everything to me and in a heartbeat that was gone. I spoke to her on the phone just before it happened." She laughed forcefully and she wiped away tears that hadn't even fallen yet. "She was yelling at me because I had driven to San Clemente. I told her I loved her and when I got back she was gone. In a heartbeat."

"I can't say anything that will make it easier, Elena." He murmured in her ear. He wouldn't tell her how sorry he was. It was just empty words unless there was meaning behind it. "I just know you won't be sad forever."

"Well thank you." She said lightly, trying to move off topic. She slid down so she was lying on her back again and rested her head in his lap. He tried not to think anything of it but the longer he knew her the more this feeling became obvious. He cursed mentally. This girl had gotten under his skin in less than two days.

"What would they even hide from us?" he mused aloud after a comfortable silence stretched between them.

"Something someone told them to keep hidden." She pointed out.

"Or someone they want to keep hidden." He added lightly, gently winding his arms around her, noting that she tensed slightly for a moment before relaxing back into his arms.

"That's more likely." Elena quietly said. "There are holes in their story. A friend of mine worked in the police dep. when I was in L.A – he was a life saver when I needed papers on something that happened years ago." She chuckled lightly, lolling her head back against his shoulder. "But it wasn't like I could just walk into his office and access the archives – you needed a security code that changed every week to get into the archive room where they were kept, both written and electronic."

Her words washed over him, the meaning lost on him. "So?" he asked confused. "What's the big deal?"

She rolled her eyes and elbowed him softly. "Use your brain, Damon! How could Klaus have gotten access to that article?"

"Through Caroline." He said, still completely missing the point. She sighed and still his arms turned around to face him.

"The security code won't just stay the same." She said slowly, as if talking to a child. "How could Caroline have the security code for each new week, or month or however often it changes?"

It suddenly dawned on him. He was being so slow today. He blamed Elena for the effect she was having on him, it was making him slow and completely oblivious to everything going on around him.

"He probably has someone on the inside, like you did."

"Ding ding ding! We have a winner!" she cried out mockingly clapping her hands excitedly.

"Oh shut up." He said, smiling.

"Come on, Damon. You asked for that!" she said giggling continuously.

"I'm tired!" he said defensively, grabbing her around her waist and hugging her in a bear hug. "You're a genius, Gilbert!"

"I know." She said smugly, relaxing against his chest. "I just don't get why they would keep it from you." She mumbled.

He sighed and absent-mindedly began stroking her hair lightly. "Neither do I."

"Did you see the way they were acting?" she said suddenly. "They kept giving each other looks like they were hiding something-"

"Which they are." He said grinning. "Didn't we just cover that?"

"Stop being an ass." She said against his chest.

He pouted. "It's not my fault. I grew up around Vagrants, it goes with the territory that I'm an ass."

She laughed sweetly. "Your brother isn't an ass."

"Well he isn't a Vagrant." He pointed out reasonably.

"Why is that?" she asked quietly and almost hesitantly. "How come he's so out of the whole community he didn't even realize he was inviting a Vengeful into his house? Surely he must know about them"

"He never wanted it. He likes the bikes and the atmosphere it's everything else he has a problem with. You hear about motorcycle clubs all the time but there are so few like the Vagrants or the Vengefuls. We don't just ride; a lot of us are criminals, either current or exes. He hates the criminal aspect of it, the drugs, the guns and the money." He drew a deep breath. He'd never explained to anyone about his brother. If it came up in conversation he brushed it off and moved the conversation in a safer direction yet here, lying in the darkness of his bedroom curled up with Elena he felt he could confess anything and nothing would change.

"What about you?" she asked softly, her fingers tracing circular patterns on his stomach.

"I can't say I'm crazy about it," He said sighing dejectedly. "But it is what it is."

"Yeah." She said, her voice muffled against his shirt.

"Yeah." He echoed softly just for something to say as he rested his cheek against her hair.

A silence stretched between them. It wasn't a silence of unanswered questions or mistrust nor was it a silence of awkwardness where neither party knows what to say next.

It was a silence of comfort. The type of silence that stretches out between fragments of conversation late at night where no one is quite ready to say something else yet each of the participants know that if they were to say something the conversation would continue in the same quiet manner as before. It stretched between them leaving them private in their own thoughts yet joined in some, unknown way that only some people are lucky enough to say they have experienced.

A loud beeping erupted from the bedside table next to her ear. It rang on for several, agonizingly long seconds before cutting out, leaving welcomed silence for barely a second before a man's voice rang out into the room.

"For fuck's sake, Elena! I'm freaking out here! Your house is a pile of ashes and no one can get a hold of you! My mum got a call saying Miranda died in that damn fire! Everyone thinks you're dead or kidnapped Elena! That fire was arson and now you're missing! I swear to God if you-"

Then the machine cut him off.

She sat up immediately, shaking as she grabbed her phone. 32 missed calls. 18 texts. 25 voicemails. Mailbox 80% full: delete?

Her phone began ringing almost straightaway afterwards. Her thumb went automatically to accept before she something stopped her. She glanced at Damon who was still asleep and muted the call, unable to bring her self to deal with everything from back home. She understood how panicked everyone would be but she just couldn't answer that call from Jake. She was here in Phoenix and Damon was able to make her smile and laugh and forget the rest of the world for five minutes.

"Please answer your phone Elena. I love you so much and I just need to know you're okay."

She buried her face in her hands and turned her phone on silent. She felt a soft hand on her back before he pulled her into his arms.

"Why didn't you answer?" he asked quietly.

"Because I can't deal with them yet." She whispered. "It's too real if I have to talk to them all and tell them what happened and why I'm here and that I'm not coming back!"

"If I tell you I'm glad you're not going back will it make you smile?" he asked hopefully, turning her around so she could face him. She couldn't help but smile lightly. "Result." He said smugly.

Her phone began ringing again, this time it was Sam from the ringtone. She was even less willing to answer now. Her other guy best friend was probably much more panicked and freaking out.

"Mailbox full? What the hell, so she isn't even going to get this message?" Sam scoffed into the answering machine. "Fine. My best friend could be dead for all know and I can't even leave her a damn message because I bet Jake took up all the damn room." The distinctive click rang through the room, leaving her and Damon struggling not to laugh.

"Your friends seem…" Damon began slowly, amusement coloring his voice.

"Persistent?"

"Little bit," he said grinning. "Come on Lay, call them back,"

"Damon." She said stubbornly, trying to fight the anxiety building in her stomach. "I can't-"

He clamped a hand over her mouth. "Next time they call you will answer or we will drive to Pasadena and you will talk to them."

She smiled and pushed his hand away. "You'd really drive all the way to Pasadena with me?"

"Course." He smirked. "I've always wanted to go to L.A. And they can't exactly come here can they?"

She sighed and took her phone slowly, hitting the voicemail speed dial.

She started with the earliest messages, just general 'hey, let's go for lunch' mundane stuff which gradually grew more and more agitated. She moaned in irritation. She couldn't even listen to the rest. The last thing she had wanted to do was upset one of her best friends. She stared at the phone before turning it off and wandering over to Damon.

"What you doing?" she asked casually as she prodded his shoulder.

"We" he announced in triumph "are going to L.A." he finished with a final dramatic click and a hit of the keyboard.

"What?" she exclaimed in shock. "Did you honestly just book us flights to L.A?"

"Yep." He said, annoyingly casual, popping the 'p'.

"Damon!" she cried indignantly. "We can't go back to L.A! Why do you think I left?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes, cupping her face gently in his warm hands. "Elena." He said exasperatedly. "We're not moving there or anything. Your friends are worried, you didn't get to say goodbye. It's a win-win."

"I can't go to L.A Damon." She protested weakly, finding it hard to find reasons not to go as she stared into his hypnotizing blue eyes.

"Take a break, Elena." He said enticingly. "Just stop and take a break from the real world for five minutes." He bored his eyes into her smirking smugly. "Five minutes." He said temptingly.

"Is it even safe to go back?" she asked suspiciously.

"They know you're here Elena. If you're not out for a few days after almost being hit by a car it's gonna be accepted."

"You just wanna go to L.A don't you?" she teased him, butting her shoulder into his.

He looked away, pretending to be sheepish. "You caught me." he scoffed and shoved her shoulder playfully as he walked into his room and began chucking random clothes into a bag.

"Wait wait wait." She gasped hurriedly. "When the hell are we going?" He grinned mischievously, waggling his eyebrows. "You're completely spontaneous and impulsive did you know that?" She couldn't help but laugh at him.

"Never in such endearing terms but yes, people have told me."

"Damon." She warned threateningly.

He sighed and zipped his bag up and throwing it over his shoulder. "It leaves this afternoon."

She narrowed her eyes. "How soon this afternoon?"

He shrugged and glanced at his watch. "A few hours. Give or take." He said vaguely.

"How soon is a few hours?" she almost yelled, trying not to laugh. Not one of her friends had ever been so impulsive before. It was so very… Damon to spontaneously book flights just so she could see her friends.

"I don't know. Give." He said infuriatingly, wandering around his room and closet throwing on clothes.

"Really Damon?" she said mockingly.

"Take then." He said casually, as if he was oblivious to how annoying her was being.

"Damon!" She heard him laugh from inside his closet as he walked out with his button up shirt undone.

She resisted the urge to stare at his chest. Of course she had suspected he would be built but his perfectly sculpted chest was beyond her imagination.

"You're staring." He commented easily as he buttoned his shirt up.

"Tit for tat." She retorted grinning, referencing to the many times he had checked her out – especially since they woke up. She had seen him staring her legs up and down.

He stared her up and down obviously, winking at her and smiling appreciatively. She felt heat rush to her cheeks and she had to look away. Damn it, Gilbert she thought furiously Get it together!

She sighed and wandered into the bathroom where her clothes lay from last night. She pulled on her jeans reluctantly and slipped hoodie on and pulling up the hood to try and hide her messy tangle of hair.

She returned through to the kitchen and prodded Damon's back muscles irritatingly. "Let's go." She whined. "I'm a girl, I automatically need more time to pack that the five minutes you took. And we need to tell Grayson." She grimaced, not looking forward to that conversation at all.

"We don't need to tell him you know." Damon muttered slyly, handing her a toasted bagel. She burst out laughing.

"You're kidding right? He would freak out!" she giggled, munching on her breakfast.

"Giuseppe will calm him down." He said lightly, his mouth full of bagel. "He'll put the pieces together. If we both suspiciously disappear it won't take long for them to figure out we're together."

"He'll still freak out, maybe even more if he realized we both disappeared." She pointed out smiling.

"I leave all the time. Giuseppe knows I always come back in a few days, he's used to it. He'll take care of your Dad." He shoved the rest of his bagel into his mouth. "Rightesgoh." He yelled incoherently, slapping his thighs.

Elena erupted in hysterical laughter; almost choking on the bagel she was eating – much more civilly. He swallowed thickly through his own laughter. "What was that?" she said, mocking him. "Didn't quite catch that through the pieces of bagel flying out of your mouth."

"I said:" he said grinning as stood up and stood in front of her with his bag sitting over his shoulder again. "Let's go!" he stooped in a kissed her cheek for just a fraction of a second before he darted out of the room, another slice of toast in his hand as he ran out the door.

She froze, momentarily locked in place by the tingles of electricity that were now spreading like wildfire through her veins. She shook herself mentally before walking laughing out of the door, pulling it shut behind her.

"You took your time." He said slyly as he leant against his bike casually. In truth, he was slightly relieved for the few moments of solace. His reaction to her was unnerving him. He had kissed her on the cheek purely out of instinct. It had been a flippant and completely platonic – until he felt the reaction he'd had to it. Until he'd felt the electrifying jolt that had run down his spine and finally woken him up. He let people into his bed, he had slept with multiple women but how often had he sat with them, talked to them and essentially told them things he had never told anyone? Elena was something, and she was more that she accounted herself for.

"I don't have the hyperactive energy you posses." She said dryly, running her fingers through her hair to try get rid of some of the waviness.

"Don't." he said automatically, grabbing her hand and pulling it away. He shrugged and dropped her hand suddenly, running his hand through his own hair. "It's nice wavy. And sorta messy."

She burst out laughing and climbed onto his bike, smirking at his confused expression. "I'm driving." She announced finally.

He sighed and climbed on behind her, wrapping his warm hands around her waist. "This is saying a lot about my opinion of you." He muttered, grinning at her. "I let no one touch my bikes."

"Seriously." He said as he pulled his helmet off outside Giuseppe's house, making his hair stick up in what she thought was incredibly sexy. "The last time I was on a bike someone else was driving it was behind my dad when I was about 10 years old."

She pulled of her own helmet and didn't even bother trying to tame her hair. She knew it would be a wild tangle, making her look about as attractive as Bigfoot. Of course, she didn't notice the way Damon was eyeing her with dark eyes and a slight smirk. "Well I'm glad I could break that record after…?" she trailed off, making it a question.

"Subtle way of asking how old I am." He grinned and nodded to her. "Kudos. And after fifteen years."

Twenty-five. That wasn't much older that her. He spoke with maturity and understanding at times that made him seem older, but then there was the rest of the time – where he acted like a kid.

"This is the part you tell me how old you are." He said in a stage whisper, exaggerating the secrecy he was mocking.

"Twenty-three in a couple months actually." She said chuckling, again finding his eyes unable to look away from.

He nodded slowly, something clearly running through his mind. She waited with her arms crossed until he snapped out of his daydream embarrassed. "Go get ready!" he ordered. "You have ten minutes!" he yelled at her retreating frame.

She shook her head and walked into the living room awkwardly fishing out a bag she had bought the other day and shoving it full with some clothes and makeup.

"I wondered who's the bags were." Stefan's voice said amusedly from the doorway. She turned and grinned at him, waving a greeting at him.

"Damon's obviously." She said dryly, still rummaging to find everything she might need. "He just sent me in to get them. It's all a cover." She whispered loudly.

"Ah." He whispered back. "Why are we whispering?"

"Because it's a secret." She whispered, pressing her finger to her lips. "Now, shh."

He saluted her mockingly, clicking his heels together. "Yes, sir!"

She stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder and grabbed another outfit for her to change into. "Good. Now you never saw me here. It was all in your imagination. You dreamt it all."

He sighed dramatically. "You mean I dreamed you coming here? Damn." He cursed, his eyes glinting happily. She laughed happily and waved goodbye to him as she walked towards the bathroom to change into another outfit. "Bye Stefan!" she shouted over her shoulder.

She returned to the lounge now dressed in dark denim skinny jeans, black over the knee boot and a grey over the shoulder jumper. She slipped on her typical leather jacket and threw her bag over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She looked the same, as always but there was something subtly different. She looked older, wilder, and brighter. Her hair was long and shiny, cascading down her back in loose waves. She grinned and walked out of the door back towards Damon.

She secretly glowed with triumph as his jaw dropped just a centimeter and his eyes widened. She walked up to him and folded her arms, copying out his typical trademark smirk.

"See something you like?"

He shook his head softly at her, not at all in a bad way as far as she could tell. He just laughed and jumped onto the bike and pulled his helmet on and snapping the visor up. She climbed on after him, surprising herself at how comfortable she felt with wrapping his arms around him. "To the airport!" she ordered before she pulled on her helmet and placed her arms back around him as he kick started the engine.

She laid her head softly on his back as the city flashing by them, lights blurring into lines ghostly lines and noises blending to one chorus of shouts and cries and the occasional drunk singing.

Even thought she was leaving Phoenix to return to what she had thought was home all she knew what that she felt like she was leaving her something behind, something that urged her to go back and hide away.

Maybe, even under the painfully cruel circumstances she had found her way here to the places she ought to be. Maybe she had finally found her way back home.