A/N: How come the later chapters of this story are some of the best I've ever written and the earlier chapters make me cringe when I go back and re-read? Enjoy.
It took a while to get back to Elena's apartment. Damon was stubborn and utterly infuriating in his roundabout attempts to do anything but leave her alone. He took her to Ric's, threatened to take her to Grayson's and even went as far as to drive straight back to the clubhouse courtyard where they sat in stony silence for at least twenty minutes. But they were here finally, and Elena didn't think she'd ever been so happy to see the place. She threw open the car door and stalked away, furious and amused at the same time. Damon was equally mad, he was resolute on his theory that somehow she would get hurt in the couple hours he'd be gone.
"When the hell did you get furniture in here?" he gaped incredulously, staring around the furnished apartment. It had been barren when they'd left this morning. There were two sofas, end tables, coffee tables, bar stools every goddamned piece of furniture the girl could possibly need. He was slightly nostalgic for the empty comfort he'd grown to like.
"I ordered it online. The landlord let the deliverymen in. I told you that." She sighed irritably, kicking off her shoes.
"Another reason why you shouldn't stay here alone. Did you at least get the key back?"
"Yes, Damon." She said exasperatedly. "Where are you even going later?"
"This place actually looks like an inhabitable home." He said, ignoring her comment and glancing around, taking in the small details of the room. There were small candles around the room as well as a box of matches, a few new looking books in the tragically empty bookshelves. There were plates stacked on the counter, still waiting to be unwrapped, packets of towels, endless storage boxes she'd yet to organize and all those boring things. "When did you even have time to order all this stuff?"
"When you weren't being a dick." She snapped, shrugging out of her jacket and tossing it into the closet by the entrance.
Damon rolled his eyes and glared furiously at her. "And when was that? Because you get mad at me a whole lot, Elena, I don't remember a time when you didn't think I was being a dick!"
"One of the many times you've not been here and nothing bad happened." She said, scowling right back at him. "It's amazing isn't it? That I didn't get hurt sitting on a bed alone all night. I'm surprised there wasn't a shoot out next door!"
"Why are you being so childish?" he groaned, pacing back and forth in frustration. "Why is me wanting you to stay safe so unforgivable?"
"Because you don't get it! I don't want you to think I can't protect myself! I can! I'm not a child Damon; I know how to lock a door. I know how to work a phone. I know how to survive."
Damon ground his teeth together agitatedly. "If you got hurt,"
"I'm not going to get hurt!"
"But you might, for god's sake Elena, you might! Why can't you accept that someone actually cares about you?" he bellowed furiously. "Is it so awful that I want you to be alive and whole and breathing when I come home later?"
Elena faltered slightly. Home. He'd said home. "I won't be dead! I haven't even been near being dead! Why do you even care so much? Why do you want me to be okay so badly that you'll go to such extremes?" she paused, the look on Damon's face quieting her rampaging thoughts. "What are you so scared of?" she said lowly, keeping her voice calm, cold and completely and utterly in control.
"When you were in the hospital," he started raggedly, leaning against the kitchen counter and staring at her with burning eyes. "On the first night, Meredith Fell caught me by chance and she told me flat out that you wouldn't last another hour. She told me that you would die. And that was it, I couldn't do a thing." Elena's chest tightened as she opened her mouth to say something. "But you did last that hour, and the next, and the next, but do you know how long it was before she told me you were in the clear?" he whispered, looking away from her intense gaze. "Eighteen hours, Elena! And that was only the first time! She told me you would die, so I believed it. For eighteen hours until she came back and told me different." Damon shook his head in disbelief. "And then the day after that, she came back. She told me the odds of you surviving were next to none, regardless of how well you might be recovering."
Elena crossed the room quietly, winding her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest. His arms fell around her shoulder, his fingers moving gently across her skin.
"It wasn't a question of 'if' when she told me that. It was 'when' and I was so scared I was going to lose you, scared I'd never see you again and I've never felt so helpless in my entire life."
"But I didn't die." She murmured into his shirt, tightening her arms around him. "I've never been one to give up easily."
"Trust me, I know." He muttered bitterly, a grin playing across his face. She lifted her face and pulled his lips down to meet hers gently.
"I'll call someone." She said finally. He sagged in visible relief. "Then I won't be alone."
"You'll call Caroline, Caroline couldn't fight off a Chihuahua." He said scornfully, pressing his lips to her forehead. "But it's better than nothing."
"Aren't you supposed to be somewhere?" she muttered, shoving him playfully. He just smiled and kissed her again. "Go away. I can't get rid of you, can I?"
He snorted and pushed off the counter. "Not likely. Please try not to get hurt?"
"Well I can't promise anything but I'll try my best." She said cheekily, smirking up at him.
"You're gonna kill me, Elena Gilbert. You're going to absolutely kill me." He sighed, shaking his head as he pressed his lips to her hair once more and sauntered out of the room looking completely and utterly too sinful for his own good.
"I must say I was surprised to hear from you." Katherine said, strolling into her apartment an hour later or so later. "Especially with Damon acting as your personal bodyguard."
Elena ignored her last words and shrugged idly. "Caroline was busy." She said as an answer, shutting the door behind her.
"Does Damon even know about this?" she asked smirking and collapsing on her new sofa and propping her feet up on the coffee table.
Elena flopped down beside her, shoving her feet off the table. "That was new." She moaned irritably. "And he didn't want me by myself. Something about me getting hurt, danger magnet, doing something stupid, etcetera."
"Damon doesn't like liars, Elena." Katherine pointed out warily, placing her feet purposely back on the coffee table, albeit minus the shoes. Elena let her be.
"You don't know him." She said dismissively, brushing off Katherine's words the same way she's brushed off her apprehension at calling her.
"I know his brother."
"They are nothing alike." Elena spat vehemently, folding her arms across her chest furiously.
"Yes they are!" Katherine cried in disbelief, for once her eyes weren't shrouded with secrets. "They're identical and Stefan hates anything other than the truth and I doubt Damon is much different."
"What makes you think that?" she scoffed, leaning forward to glare at her new friend.
"They're good people." She said quietly, looking down at the wooden floors.
"Stefan is not a good person!" Elena shouted furiously, pointing accusingly at Katherine. "He's sleeping around with a married woman, he betrayed his own family and he fired two bullets into my fucking skin and nearly killed me!"
"He was in love with me long before I married Mason. It took him a long time to forgive me for marrying another man." Elena sneered and looked away. Katherine shrugged coldly. "They were both raised by good people, Elena, and good people don't abide by lies."
"I didn't lie." She insisted. "I just neglected to mention that Caroline is busy tonight to save him rushing back. We'd just fight and yell and scream and I'd say something I'd regret and it would piss me off until he came back again." She sighed miserably. "It's just easier."
"Does he know I'm here?"
"No." she said sighing. "He'd be here already if he did."
Katherine smirked triumphantly. "So if he knew he'd be furious. He doesn't trust me." She was grinning now, clapping her hands together gleefully.
"He's probably right to not trust you. What am I trusting you?" Elena muttered under her breath, ignoring her slightly unnerving display. "What have you ever done that's trustworthy?"
"I didn't tell Mason where you are." She said simply, tucking her feet underneath her and staring at Elena without blinking. She was hard to read, simple as that. You couldn't get a shred of emotions from those closed off eyes, and her face was a mask. She had the kind of face that the devil would take the shape off. Closed off and cold, you wouldn't be able to tell truth from lies if she was whispering in your ear.
She rolled her eyes. "For you own safety. He'd want to know where you got that handy little tidbit of information and then you'd be screwed."
"And I'd lie." Katherine said easily, examining Elena's face carefully. "It's an easy thing to lie to someone who means nothing to you."
"Are you lying to me?"
"No." she replied simply, her eyes never leaving Elena's. She tried, she really did. She tried to not trust her. She tried to find the strength to challenge this girl but deep inside her, in the very depths of her deepest thoughts she knew she was telling the truth.
"Why would you tell me the truth?"
"Because Stefan cares about you, and I care about Stefan." Katherine answered as if it was the simplest thing in the world.
"Stefan couldn't care less if you handed me over."
"But Damon would."
Elena froze. "They're different people. Don't compare them as if they are anything alike."
"How are they different?" Katherine said, in the same way she'd retorted to all Elena's statement, in that simple no-nonsense way that was starting to grate way too much on her nerves.
"Stefan shot me!"
"Damon killed Finn." Elena stopped her tirade, sinking back into the sofa cushions. "That's what I thought. Stefan tried to take something precious away from Damon, and Damon did the exact same thing to Michael except he succeeded. He killed Michael's brother, even when he has one of his own so he knows what it would be like! They may not be identical but they were raised the same way. Loyalty is only good until it extends so far and turns dangerous. Both of them are loyal. They're both good in their own way. Both fighting for what they believe in and they will stick with that cause until this is all over. They're so loyal, Elena. Loyal enough that Stefan would betray his family, and Damon would nearly kill Stefan to protect you! It's only a matter of who is the right side to be loyal to."
"What if there is no 'right' side?" she pointed out. "Neither side is good, you have to know that. The Vagrants, The Vengeful Souls, it's all just a war isn't it? No one is innocent in a war, Katherine. People die at the hands of another and every war has to have a winner. It's not a matter of being loyal to the right side, because there isn't one, it's about being loyal to who you believe is fighting for the right thing and you know that Mason started this because he wanted what the Vagrants have. The Vagrants retaliated in the only way they could. They protected what they earned and created. Mason can't just come and take what the Vagrants made."
"Mason is Tyler's cousin, you know." Katherine said softly. "The Vagrants told everyone he was dead when they kicked him out the chapter. He started up the Vengeful Souls chapter here in L.A for just that: vengeance. He betrayed his family, let them think he was dead and started and indirectly caused every death in this state related to this goddamned war. Can you really say he's not bad?"
"We're not talking about Mason! We're talking about your absurd theory that Damon and Stefan are anything alike." Elena grumbled irritably.
"I know that, and you know I'm right."
"You're wrong." She snapped persistently, a stony edge in her voice.
"Where is Damon tonight anyway? Sitting at home watching TV?" Katherine scoffed and raised her eyebrows. "No, he's out there, right now, hunting them down all over this damned city and if he catches one? Elena, he'll kill them without blinking."
"He wouldn't." she whispered quietly.
"He would, and so would every man you've met so far: your dad, Giuseppe, Damon, Stefan, Tyler, Matt, Klaus, Michael, Mason; they've all killed someone or tried to and I would bet they did it without second thoughts."
"They aren't murderers." Elena protested, her heart thudding heavily in her chest.
"No." Katherine shrugged and brushed a stray curl away from her face. "But this is a real, Elena. This isn't a film or a storybook tale. People do bad things and people die and people suffer. It doesn't matter what side you're fighting on, ask anyone who is actively involved in this battle; they will have turned a gun on someone and pulled that trigger at some point or another in these past years." Elena stayed silent for a long time after that with Katherine by her side. She spoke quietly after a while. "You had to know."
"I know, but that doesn't mean I have to like what you had to say."
"You have to deal with it." She said unfeelingly. "You can't just walk away."
"I can and I will if I need to. All this death and murder," she shook her head in horror. "It just feels like I'm surrounded by it wherever I go and if I have to escape from something like that then I will and none of you can think any worse of me."
"You think you could leave Phoenix?" Katherine said, a hint of respect in her voice.
"I haven't been here long."
Katherine cocked her head to the side, her dark eyes carefully appraising Elena as she spoke. "And Damon?"
Elena's heart clenched in her chest and she let her hair fall forward to cover her face. "If I had to." She said quietly, avoiding Katherine's gaze.
She shook her head in disbelief. "You're lying. You can't escape this place any more than the rest of us can. We're trapped in a war-ridden city and now so are you for the exact same reason."
"I don't have a reason to stay!" she said, lying through her teeth.
"Yes you do! Damon is here and you can't leave him here any more that he can leave you! That's what happens when you meet someone like him, Elena!"
"And that's what exactly?" Elena spat viciously, her eyes burning furiously into Katherine's. "What exactly happens?"
"You have no idea do you? How obvious it is to the rest of us? How easy it is for anyone with half an eyeball to see?" Elena glared at Katherine without saying a word. Katherine shook her head in disbelief. "You'll work it out soon enough. But you're brave; I'll give you that, braver than I was. It took me a long time to take that same risk."
"What are you on about? You're making no sense." Elena exclaimed exasperatedly, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration.
"The Vagrants, Elena! The Vengeful Souls! They're the heart of Phoenix and they're fighting like dogs and killing each other to protect the people they care about! No one fights for themselves, no soldier fights for power, no battle ends because the other side just stops caring. They fight to keep the people they love safe and that's what this whole war is Elena! It's a fight between men who don't care and men who do, all to save those they love. And that's what this all comes down to. That and nothing more."
"Him." Klaus said suddenly, pointing discreetly at a pair of men standing by the bar in the Warehouse. "Dark hair. Tall. Douchebag sunglasses."
Damon squinted at the men through the darkness, smirking at Klaus' description. "Because of the sunglasses or because you know he's a Vengeful?" he asked in a low voice.
"There's a patch on his jacket. I know exactly who he is." Klaus pointed out softly, jerking his head towards the door. "There's more coming in. We've got to move fast. We've got to move now."
Damon stared at the man's leather jacket, making out the familiar, piss-poor patch of the Vengeful Souls. He scoffed and stood up carefully. "Then I'm getting another drink." He said pointedly, giving his friend a meaningful look.
Klaus nodded shrewdly, standing up as well. "I'll meet you at the bar." He said, glancing back at Damon as he sauntered towards the toilets.
Strolling leisurely towards the bar, Damon skirted around the masses on the dance floor and leant on the old bar top next to their newest prey.
"Another, 'Elijah." He said quietly, looking at his friend carefully, subtly gesturing towards the man sitting to his right. "Not seen you up by the clubhouse lately." Damon said quietly, keeping his eyes on the bartender. The man's head shot up, glancing unquestionably in Damon's direction with suspicion written all over his face. He could feel eyes on his jacket, scanning the patch on his back as the man tried to work out exactly who he was. "Giuseppe is getting touchy." Damon smirked, trying to control his grin as Elijah looked away in amusement.
"Yes, how is your dear father anyway, Damon?" Elijah asked in his smooth accent, smirking lightly as he wiped a glass clean.
The man stood up abruptly, staring Damon down with unforgiving eyes. "Damon Salvatore. It's always a pleasure." He spat viciously, glaring furiously between the two men.
Damon held up his hands in surrender. "Just getting a drink. I don't go mouthing off to you and you're the exact definition of scum in this place. I just tend to avoid people like you."
The man rolled his eyes and snorted. "The Vagrants are done in Phoenix, Salvatore, you're kidding yourself."
Damon glowered at his opponent, stepping closer so he was in his face. "Say that again." He said lowly, his eyes glinting dangerously. "See where is gets you."
Klaus appeared behind the man, his face stony. He clapped a hand vehemently on the man's shoulder. "Now Trevor, you wouldn't want to start something in here would you? All these people…" he dropped his voice, whispering menacingly in Trevor's ear. "Outside. Now. Go quietly or I'll shoot you dead here and now."
Damon grabbed a fistful of Trevor's shirt. He growled, yanking him forcibly towards him. "He's Trevor?" he said loudly, his eyes widening incredulously. Klaus nodded. Damon smirked viciously at the suddenly very small man. "I expected a lot more for someone who's caused me so much trouble."
Trevor swallowed roughly and pulled away from Damon's grasp. "I'll go with you. Get your filthy hands off me." He spat, stalking towards the main door.
Klaus grabbed his shoulder and pulling him back. "Do you think we're stupid?" he laughed humorlessly. "We're going out the back."
Damon shook his head in disdain, looking slightly towards Elijah questioningly. "It's open." He said softly before disappearing to the other end of the bar, smiling pleasantly and pulling orders like nothing more than a regular bartender. Little of the population knew but he was a Vagrant to his blood, loyal right from the beginning. A spy in the midst of civilization, a trusted, almost friendly face that stood behind Phoenix's favorite bar top unquestioned and he listened, oh, he listened and he heard and he told. How reckless people were. How stupid.
Damon led the way towards the shady backdoor behind the Warehouse, leading Trevor into the shadows. Klaus pulled his gun first, the lethal metal object being tossed carelessly between his hands. "Down." He ordered, pressing the barrel against Trevor's shoulders, forcing him to his knees. Their breath created curling tendrils of mist in the unseasonably cold, silent air.
Damon reached into his jacket, pulling his gun out and lifting it slowly and steadily towards Trevor's chest. "Do you know how this works? Or would you like us to explain?" he said pleasantly, his eyes telling an entirely different story. They went from bright, laughing and kind to the cruel, sinister eyes of someone who wouldn't even blink in taking someone's life.
Trevor shook his head scathingly, jutting his chin out defiantly and spitting in Damon's direction. Klaus darted forward again, pressing the cold metal roughly into Trevor's temple. He cringed as the cold metal touched his skin. He leant away ever to slightly; failing to escape the icy metal that now controlled his life.
"Do that again." Klaus whispered darkly, his voice barely making a dent in the silence that had settled over the men in the abandoned lot. "I dare you."
"I know how this works." Trevor said softly. "You threaten me, I tell you what I know, and then you kill me or you recruit me as one of you."
"You catch on fast." Klaus quipped cheerfully, pressing his gun harder against his skin. "But you don't have to worry about being recruited as one of us. You've caused a lot of people a lot of pain and we don't take the pain of our loved ones lightly, Trevor. Damon over there is especially eager to fire a bullet into you're skin."
"What do you care?" Trevor snorted, jerking away from Klaus' hand and staring into Damon's eyes. "People mean nothing to you. You're heartless and vicious, you don't have people to care about."
Damon started forward, his hands steady and strong as he pointed at Trevor's chest. "If that's true, why am I going to kill you?"
"Because you're a Vagrant. Vagrants kill." He recited uninterestedly. "It's what you do."
"Vagrants fight." Damon corrected contemptuously, crouching down in front of Trevor's face. "Because we care. So we kill people who hurt the people who are important to us. It's difficult for someone with no one to care about to understand." He snarled harshly, glaring furiously into Trevor's eyes.
"Who's important to you?" Trevor scoffed, smirking darkly. He had the eyes of a man who had nothing, a man who had no one, a man who was beyond living, simply because he had no one to live for. "Damon Salvatore, you don't have anyone to care for. They're all gone."
He paused, his eyes dancing evilly in the faint light that shone through the crack under the door that led back into the bar.
"Your brother switched sides. Stefan Salvatore, younger heir to the Vagrant's most powerful chapter just stepping down and switching to the Vengefuls? Yes, I know about that and I'm about a day away from finding out exactly what drove your brother to the highest level of betrayal." Trevor smirked, carefully watching Damon's jaw clench. "Then there's old Giuseppe, he could croak any day now. Car wreck, roadside bomb, an unsuspecting bullet; anything really." He grinned twistedly, cocking his head to the side. "And what's to say I haven't killed your girl the same way I killed Miranda? Nobody would suspect a thing. People die every day in this town." Damon growled, pushing his gun into Trevor's neck, the cold barrel pressing against the soft underside of his chin. His head tipped backwards. "She could be dead right now." He croaked, grinning wildly. "And you wouldn't even know it." Damon's hand clenched around the trigger, his hands were shaking with fury. "You know she won't last a year in Phoenix, she made a mistake coming here and you made a mistake by letting her stay."
Klaus yanked Trevor into a standing position, pushing Damon away and pressing his own gun against his skin instead. "Go, get out of here. You're going to make a mess of this." He hissed at his friend. "You couldn't aim that thing if you tried." He said, glancing down at Damon's trembling hands. "Leave before you fuck this whole thing up, Damon!"
Damon shrugged off Klaus' restraining hand. "No." he spat, lifting the gun and holding his hand steady with all his might. For the first time, he pulled that trigger and looked into the eyes of a man who was about to die as he fell to the floor, clutching his chest with a face like bone and Damon didn't feel a thing. His aim was off; Trevor's death wasn't instant but the last words that escaped the dying man's throat, a hoarse, rasping sound that screamed as loud of the gunshot pierced Damon's ears.
"Just because I didn't kill her, doesn't mean someone else hasn't."
He shot again, and again, his hands trembling furiously. He sank to the ground, letting his gun slide form his grip as he buried his head in his hands and took deep, wracking breaths. Klaus hauled him up, furiously forcing him towards the main car park where his bike was parked. His heart pounded in his ears, masking Klaus' angry words. He let him push him towards the bike and force his gun back into his hands.
"Go," he ordered furiously. "Before someone comes out." He glowered at his friend and sprinted back to the shadowy lot, talking rapidly into a phone as he went and pounding loudly on the door that led back into the bar shouting incoherently to his brother.
Damon sped away, his hands still shaking violently. With blood on his boots and a loaded weapon in his pocket, the full impact of what he had done hit him like a ton of bricks. It didn't affect him the same way it had every other time he had pulled that very same trigger and the gnawing feeling in his stomach was not one of guilt, but one of fear, as he feared that somewhere along the path he'd become trapped on, he feared he'd somehow lost himself along the way.