Disclaimer: Guess what? Chicken butt! Plus, I don't own Vampire Diaries. Darn it all.

A/N: Have I told you that you all blow my mind? That you're awesome? That I don't deserve your kindness? All true. Your reviews are the gas in this engine. I know you're all busy and could be doing a zillion things other than reviewing, so I'm grateful. I'm also better, so thanks for the well wishes!

Now, for the bad. :-( I delayed posting this, because I hate this chapter. Ok, maybe not hate. But I'm not crazy about it. That said, I also feel like this chapter is absolutely critical if I'm going to keep these characters in…uh, character.

I think it's tricky to get to D&E without throwing one of the trio (D, E, or S) under the bus. And I don't want to go there. But I still want to stay in character. Which stinks when you have to write a chapter like this where the sexy!snarky!hawt! takes a backseat to reality. (sigh) Plus, it's long. (double sigh)

Please, please, please review so I don't sit in the corner convinced everyone has abandoned ship. :-P We're SO close, now. Don't give up on me yet!

I slide my shoes back on as Damon turns into my neighborhood.

"It's about time," he teases. "My whole car smells like feet."

"My feet don't smell," I say, rolling my eyes.

"I drove the last ten miles with my eyelids curling up on me."

"You can't resist being a pain, can you?"

He turns to arch a brow at me. "This coming from the girl who made me pull off the highway for a can of Red Bull and a package of Ho Ho's?"

"It's a sure-fire hangover cure around here. I can't believe you've never heard of it," I say, then I turn to narrow my eyes at him. "With the way you drink, I'm half-surprised you didn't invent it."

"Two points for that one," he says. "But you do realize you're setting me up for about a dozen filthy 'Ho-Ho eating' jokes now."

"You're disgusting," I say, but I'm on the edge of a laugh.

I hold it in. Damon doesn't need any more ego than he's already got.

My good humor vanishes when we pull up to my house. There are already two cars in the driveway. Neither belong to the people who live here. And both remind me of what Stefan's doing.

"Well, we've got the Saintmobile," Damon says, nodding at Stefan's car. "Who's the other one?"

I sigh before answering. "Bonnie."

"Well this should be a barrel of laughs," Damon says, turning off the engine and stuffing the keys in his pocket.

I feel my eyes go comic-book wide. "You're not coming in!"

"What, you're going to tell them the tooth fairy dropped you off?"

"Damon, you can't," I say, grabbing his arm as a flush crawls up my neck. I know how I must look, make-up smeared, hair a mess. "This could look…like something it totally wasn't."

"Good point," he says, then beckons me with two fingers. "Give me your underwear. I'll hang them from my belt loop and we can watch that vein in Stefan's forehead go crazy."

I smack him until he's out of the car, and smack him once more on the walk up for good measure. At the stairs that lead up the porch, I stop.

Because I am two seconds away from a confrontation that will change my life. And there's nothing funny about it.

"You alright?" Damon asks.

I don't know how he knows to ask, how he knows my mood has just plunged forty degrees. But I'm not surprised anymore. He's like a tuning fork, finding my pitch without even trying.

"Yeah," I say, wishing I believed it.

I climb the steps to my porch like I'm walking to the gallows.

"Any final words?"

"Yes. Don't be an ass."

Damon grins, undeterred. "Can I be a dick?"

The door flies open and Bonnie and Stefan's faces fill the doorway.

They've got 'concerned' eyebrows working overtime tonight. They serve the worry up with a side of trepidation when they see Damon at my side.

Which is why I'm a little surprised when Stefan pulls me into his arms, his chin going to rest on the top of my head.

"Thank God you're alright."

"I'm not alright, Stefan," I say, pushing away from him.

He's not surprised. Obviously. He wouldn't be waiting for me if he didn't know something was up. I've got no idea why Bonnie's here, though, but I'm sure I'll be filled in.

Stefan steps back, gesturing me inside my own house. "Please, Elena. I think we should talk."

Damon squeezes past us in the doorway. "I'll make popcorn."

"Does he need to be here?" Bonnie asks.

I don't bother replying to that, but I follow them to the living room, while Damon saunters around the kitchen like he owns it.

We all take our seats, Bonnie and I on opposite ends of the couch. Stefan perched on the coffee table facing us.

I dare a glance into the kitchen where he's got a spoonful of something upside down in his mouth. I watch him pull that spoon out, nice and slow-

"Elena, I know you saw me at the tomb with Katherine today," Stefan says. "I saw you leaving."

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "And what does Bonnie have to do with this?"

"I'll explain everything," Stefan says.

Damon laughs in the kitchen, pointing the spoon at us. "This is the part where he tells you he did it all for you."

I see a muscle jump in Stefan's jaw, but he continues as if Damon didn't say anything. Maybe as if he isn't even here.

"I've been bringing Katherine blood for about a week now. I'm hoping to earn her trust."

Bonnie chimes in then, "We need her to trust him if she's ever going to give us her blood."

Okay, I didn't see that coming. And apparently neither did Damon, because he's abandoned the kitchen and is walking towards us wearing an incredulous expression.

"Excuse me?" I manage.

Stefan gives me a placating look. "I know it sounds crazy, but Bonnie and I have been talking."

"And trading acid hits?" Damon asks.

"We've been discussing Klaus," Bonnie says. "He's no joke, Elena. There's reference to him in one of the books at Luca's place. If he really wants you dead, we are in serious trouble."

"So, what? Katherine juice is his kryptonite?" Damon asks.

"No, but she's a vampire. A strong one," Bonnie says. "We might need her help."

I laugh then. "I am the last person she'll ever help. And she's stuck in the tomb anyway."

Stefan scoots forward, leaning towards me. "You're right on both counts. But if we get her blood—

"Then I can force the issue. I can summon her," Bonnie says. "There's a spell. It's intense, but it will work. Since Katherine is technically dead, I can summon her like a spirit. But I need a part of her body to do it."

Damon leans against the door frame. "Let me get this straight. You're going to trick Katherine into giving up her blood, and then you're going to magically enslave her to do your dirty work? Yes, nothing could go wrong here."

"It's dangerous," Stefan says, nodding at his brother. "But you know as well as I do, we can't win. We can't protect her."

Damon's eyes drift to me, of course. Because I am her. He won't let his fear show, but I can feel it. Maybe see it in the set of his jaw.

"Katherine is not a solution," Damon says, looking back to Stefan. "The Antichrist, maybe, but not a solution."

"We don't think she's a solution," Stefan says.

"She's a back-up plan," Bonnie says.

I'm beginning to wonder how many times they rehearsed this conversation. Did they use cue cards? I bite the inside of my cheek to keep the questions in.

"She's compelled to stay in that tomb," I say. "If you summoned her out, won't she just run back."

"A summoning spell is complete. It can unleash spirits that have been dormant for centuries. I know I don't have any proof, but Grams told me to trust my own instincts. And my instincts tell me this will work."

"Katherine could be one more layer between you and Klaus, Elena," Stefan says.

"So, she's cannon fodder," I say, feeling anger flare through my middle. "Well, you've got your plan all set. Except that you forgot to tell the rest of us."

"I, for one, am hurt," Damon says, but he must see the looks firing between Stefan and me because he lumbers up from the couch, pulling out his keys.

"Leaving so soon?" Stefan asks, looking livid that he's stayed this long.

"Well, I figured Elena might like a little privacy for those eye-daggers she's sprouting." He strides past Stefan, slapping him on the shoulder. "You kids have fun."

Bonnie follows him out, brushing a hand over my elbow gently as she passes. But I'm too preoccupied to even spare her a glance. I know where things are going tonight.

And all the tender looks in the world aren't going to change it.

Stefan look wary. "I only wanted to protect you, Elena."

"I know that, Stefan. You always want to protect me."

"And don't you want the same thing? To keep the people you love safe?"

"Yes, I do want that. And I know it's easy to blur the line when you love someone. But lately you always seem to think you know what's best for me. The last time I didn't agree with your plan, you ignored me. Now, you're going to hide it from me?"

He looks genuinely confused, shaking his head, reaching for my hand. "It's not like that, Elena. I don't know what Damon told you—

"This isn't about Damon!" I say, pulling away before he can touch me. "And it isn't even about your ridiculous plan, which you know I'd never be okay with. It's about us, Stefan. You and me."

"I love you, Elena. And I know you love me."

"That isn't enough!" I say, with more volume than I'd intended.

There's something final about this that sticks in my middle, pinching the bone between my ribs. This is different than before. Nothing will ever go back from this moment.

"How can you say that?" Stefan asks. "You're the one who said it's you and me forever."

"I did and I meant it. But we've changed. This crazy life we live has changed us, and I think we're both too afraid to be honest about that."

"Then let's change it."

I shake my head, sighing. "We can't undo the things we've done. The secrets we've both kept," I say, feeling guilt press hard on my shoulders. "Can't you feel it? This space between us? It means something, Stefan."

I see it wash over him. The truth. He nods slowly, eyes wet with unshed tears. "I do feel it. And I want to fight it. I don't understand why you don't."

My own tears are welling fast. I swallow them down hard before I speak. "Because I don't know that we're supposed to fight it."

I see my words lance through him. He doesn't breathe for a moment and his eyes are so dark. So full of pain. It's like a knife in my middle.

And I know it's the right thing to do. I wish to God I didn't. I wish that I could take these words back and peel away the anguish on his face.

But I can't. And that's enough to twist that knife in me until it's all I can do to keep breathing.

"I love you," I say. "I'll always love you."

"Don't," he says. "Elena, please don't go."

"I'm still here. This love," I say, gesturing between our chests. "It's real and it's important and nothing changes that."

"What you're saying changes everything. What it means…"

He trails off, clearly too pained to fill in the blanks. What it means is the end of us. It is the sharp-edged shift of our reality from one thing to another.

I don't deny it. I let it settle into both of us.

"I thought you were my happily ever after," he says, the ghost of a bitter smile beneath his tears.

My face is wet too. When I lick my lips, I taste salt and heartbreak.

I touch his face. Just once. "I wanted to think that, too."

How the hell is this even going to work?

Break-ups require space. You're supposed to dodge each other at school and make sure you don't end up at the same parties at the same time. You're supposed to be cordial, but distant. You're not supposed to end up at your ex's house six days after the break-up to discuss your imminent probable death.

But then vampires shouldn't exist at all, so when you apply normal logic to my life, things get muddy.

I glance across the table at Caroline, Alaric, Damon, Bonnie, and Stefan. Of course, Stefan. He's gazing at me with all the devotion in his arsenal. It's a look that says he'll wait forever for me.

But I think he expected he wouldn't have to wait so long.

To be honest, I might have suspected that myself.

Alaric stands up first, sliding on his coat. "I'm going to scan vacant properties and hotels in the area. If we're lucky, he'll turn up."

"Tyler and I will check out the woods," Caroline says, standing up as well.

"Do your sniffing during the day," Damon says. "He's bound to have a ring, but his minions won't be so lucky."

"So, we'll meet back in a couple of days?" Bonnie asks.

Stefan nods, still not taking his eyes from me. I turn my attention to my phone, which is ridiculous. Everyone likely to call me is sitting at the table. But it gives me a way to break his stare before standing up. When I do, the rest of them are already filing out. And Damon has completely disappeared.

I gather my purse and my coat to leave. Stefan follows me to the door, his hand softly brushing my shoulder.

I step free of it, but paste on a bright smile. "See you in a couple of days."

"I wish you would reconsider my offer to stay here," he says. "Klaus is close. Maybe here in town. It's not safe."

"Which is why I need to be at home. Jeremy and Jenna shouldn't be alone."

"Elijah swore to keep them safe, and he will. But that's them, Elena. Not you."

"Bonnie has wards up. I'll be safe at home," I say. I don't say the other piece of it, though I suspect he knows already.

Damon's been watching my house. He hasn't outright admitted to it, and I haven't outright asked, but I've seen his car parked down the street more than once. And Stefan asked him tonight where he's been wandering off to every night.

The dark look he's wearing now tells me he's figured it out.

I drive home with the radio blaring. It pushes out thoughts of werewolves and curses and vampires named Klaus. Damon's on the roof when I pull into the driveway. I'm not even sure he's trying to hide it at this point.

Inside, I take my time. I chit chat with Jenna about her day, and ruffle Jeremy's hair, before climbing the stairs to my room.

The door closes with a soft snick behind me and I move to my window, sliding it open.

"He knows you're here, you know," I say.

There is a moment of silence, and then he appears on my windowsill. Gray shirt, dark jeans. Eyes that cut me to the quick.

He shrugs as he eases himself into the room. "He knows. You know. But nobody talks about it. It's almost scandalous."

I join him on the window seat, sitting down beside him.

"You faring any better than my brother in this break-up?" he asks.

"Nope. I feel like hell."

"You don't look it," he says, and something akin to alarm must pass over my features.

He laughs at it, and my cheeks go hot.

"Give me some credit, Elena," he says, busting me out. "I have one or two morals left."

"Sorry, I didn't mean…"

"You didn't mean I was trying to get in your pants while you're still crying over my brother? Yes, you did."

I duck my head. It's as close to an admission as I can get. But he takes it.

"You'll be alright," he says, bumping my knee with his. "Both of you will."

Tears spring to my eyes as if he's flipped the on-switch. There's no warning. No preamble. Just sudden, quiet sobs that carry my pain on their shoulders.

He lets me cry. He doesn't pull me close or try to hush me with cooing, or stuff tissues into my hand. He just sits beside me. He's just there.

When it is over I feel purged. Swollen and aching, but clean.

"I knew it was coming. Is that normal? To love someone that much and still feel like there's miles between you?"

Damon laughs. "You're asking me? Have you seen what happens when I fall in love, Elena? Shakespearian tragedies pale in comparison."

Maybe it's the angle or the lighting or maybe I've taken a swan dive off the edge of reality, but his words force me to look at him. And for the first time, I actually see him.

Fierce. Tender. Funny. Loyal to the marrow of his bones.

He will never leave me.

And I don't want him to.

I see his face change, concern shadowing his humor. He lifts my hands and it's only then that I realize I'm shaking. Which makes sense, because I'm terrified of this.

I need him. I'm not even supposed to tolerate him, and I need him.

"You can't go back to the way things were," I say. I have no idea what is pushing these words out of my mouth. My breath is gone. My throat is so tight.

"You're my friend," I say, trying to articulate the mess of feelings squirming around in me. "I can't let myself—I can't—you can't go back to the killing—

"I know, Elena."

I swallow hard, barging ahead. "And I'll never forget what you did to Jeremy."

"Neither will I."

"I'm not sure I can forgive you for that."

"I know that, too," he says. "But I'm not ready to throw in the towel on it."

"Fair enough," I say, and this time I bump his knee with mine.

Maybe some part of me never will forgive him.

But, I think some other part of me just did.