I'm back! The phone company had been working faster than I thought, so I have my internet back already, and I have a new chapter for you, just like I promised!

Now: thanks to my readers and all you lovely reviewers (god, I could KISS you all, I LOVED your reviews!) AND to my beta AVECIA, because without her I would be totally lost! (go read her stories: she is so good, that she made me LIKE her Damon/Caroline stories!)

Oh and... Damon is pretty OOC in this but... well, he IS human, after all. And as the strange behaviour is happening mostly in his thoughts... I just had to depict that he REALLY is human right now, no trace of vampire left, whatsoever. And we saw in the last flashback ep that Damon really WAS a caring person, once upon a time. And that persona showed more often, recently so... I just went with it. Sorry if it's a bit overkill though...xD.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything about the Vampire Diaries, I just mess with them for fun!

Now, on with it!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Never in all his life (unlife, whatever) had he been so glad to be alone. The time between this weird light, knocking him out to now – finally in his room – had felt like a whole decade. He could have dealt with the repercussions of this thing way better if people just would mind their own damn business.

So, okay, Elena had a right to be around and act a little strange, as she was just as much a part of this as he was. And maybe Stefan, because of the whole my-girlfriend-turned-into-a-vampire-thing. And he was well aware that Bonnie had been needed, because it had been her fault to begin with. Well, mostly anyway. Sure, it was his fault that Elena had been this angry (and god, she had been damn hot... eyes spitting fire and moving with a whole new passion...) to begin with. But it wasn't as if he had planned for her to remember! But no matter who would win the blame-game, the fact was that he just wanted a little bit of peace and quiet right now.

His head hurt, because the sound of his own heartbeat was irritating as hell, and he had a really hard time getting accustomed to his dull, human senses again. Also, Judgy and The Teacher had both looked as if they would love nothing more than to pack him onto a table and start to dissect him. Before today, he had no idea that Alaric could feature such a look that was able to freak him out that much.

And so, right after Elena left, he gave the freaks down there a half-hearted excuse and barricaded (hid) himself in his room.

He was standing in front of his mirror now, trying to find any obvious changes. So far, the only thing worth noticing was a little more colour to his cheeks than usual. But other than that, he really looked just like he always did. But as he stood there, looking at himself he thought about the irony of all of this. Just a few weeks ago, he had told poor Jessica that he missed being human. It had been the first time he had said that out loud since he turned all those years ago – most of the time he wouldn't even confess it to himself. And now, just like that, he really was human again. He knew perfectly well that it wouldn't last, but still.

If he could just lie down and close his eyes now, he wouldn't hear the heartbeats from downstairs, luring him in, making him hungry; hungry for the chase, hungry for blood and violence. The anger and disappointment (at his father, his brother... Katherine and the whole damn world) had faded nearly into nothing. Both of these feelings had been in the forefront of his mind as he had died, so long ago, so they had been his constant companions. Now though they had been replaced – by guilt and love. Guilt, for all the lives he had taken over the past 140 and something years and love... love for his brother, whom he had hated for so long. And love for Elena, of course. Always Elena.

There were other things too... like, when he thought about Liz Forbes or Alaric, the first word his brain would find was 'friend'. Or the strange responsibility he felt for Carolineand (oddly enough) Jeremy.

But all of this - the headache caused by the sound of his own blood pumping through his veins, the guilt, love and responsibility - couldn't quite bring him to regret that this happened.

So for the next ten days (well, approximately ten days) he would just... live. Literally. Snatching his car keys from the bedside table, he tried to make as little sound as possible as he went out of his room, and down the stairs. In the parlour, the others were still discussing what could be done... even though neither Elena nor he was there.

Shaking his head, he went out the front door, into his car, and drove away.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

He'd been driving for about an hour until he started to get bored with it. He hadn't had any destination in mind to begin with – he'd just been driving around to kill some time. Usually he would sit at the bar in the Grill, but even the thought of drinking himself into a stupor right now was held no appeal. Also... he couldn't quite remember the last time he really had had a hangover, but he could remember that the feeling hadn't been pleasant at all. But he had given the research-party in his house enough time to grow tired of books and discussions, so he deemed it safe to drive back home.

Arriving back at the Boarding House, he instantly saw that he had been right – the cars that had been parked in the driveway were gone. He entered the house slowly, taking everything in in a new light.

Without his keen vampire-senses the house looked infinitely more beautiful. Losing the ability to take in every single detail at once, also allowed him to oversee the flaws. He hadn't really had any time to appreciate this earlier. He had been way too distracted by other things. But now the house was quiet, and memories from his life (the one before Katherine... the one in which he had been human) came rushing back. True, this house wasn't the one in which he had grown up in, but it was close enough. Armchairs, bookshelves, tables and carpets – most of the old-fashioned interior, really – came from his childhood home, and each held memories for him. Most of the time, he was able to forget that as children he and Stefan had played on the same carpets he now looked at , or that his father had loved to sit in that armchair right across from the fireplace in the evenings. Right now, he saw it as clear as if it had happened just yesterday... Stefan, sitting at his father's feet, playing with an intricately carved, wooden horse. His father had been looking down at his younger son, a gentle smile on his face, while sipping from the crystal tumbler in his hand. Damon had been sitting on the floor, too – leaning against the couch, reading a book. He had glanced up every now and then, watching his brother play, stunned because of the look on his father's face. He knew – even back then, just about ten years of age – that the man would never, in his life, look at him like this. The moment Stefan had been borne, he had been jealous of him – of the way he was treated so much better than he, himself. But that hadn't lasted very long, because soon after that he had loved his brother, too.

Also, he still had the love of his mother. She would sit with him for hours, the only sound in the room being the rustling of pages as they both read a book. She had died too soon though. Stefan hadn't been five yet as she caught a fever... one night, she had been so exhausted because of it, that she had fallen asleep in the middle of telling them a story. She hadn't woken up again.

Thinking about his mother now, his feet automatically had carried him into a usually unused room. He had slight difficulties even opening the door, the hinges groaning and screeching because of years (probably closer to decades... right now he nearly wished his strength back) of disuse. He managed to open it though, and the first thing he did was to sneeze because of the dust. But then he opened the curtains, and pulled the white sheets off of the things. There was a flowery couch right under the big windows, and two armchairs left and right from it. A delicate coffee table stood in front of them, too. A bookshelf was nearly bursting with all the books and folders stuffed in there – books and folders full of sheet music. There was a harp, standing a little to the side; his mother had been the only one who could play it, and she never had been able to talk Stefan or Damon into learning how to. There was a stand with an expensive, antique looking violin on it (he knew for a fact that the look rang true), and on a table lay a row of flutes and recorders. But all that he ignored, his eyes fixed on the grand piano in the middle of the room. He walked around it once; as if afraid it would explode in his face if he so much as looked at it.

But of course it didn't, and as he finished his round he sat down onto the bench in front of it, carefully opening the lid over the ivory keys. He let his fingers wander over them in barely even a caress, and closed his eyes. This was the other thing he and his mother had had in common – they loved music. They would either sit together and read, in total silence or they would sit in the music room. She would sing, or play the harp, and he would accompany her on the piano – she herself had taught him how to play.

He was so lost in his thoughts, that he didn't even realize that the caress and gliding of his fingers had changed, and he had begun to play for real. Just random notes at first, trying to remember how to hold his hands, which key to press down with which finger. But soon the memory came rushing back, and a few, careful sounds turned into a melody. Sad and melancholy it was, but it brought a smile to his face, and dozens of hidden, cherished memories replayed themselves behind his closed eyes.

His hands were moving with practiced ease over the keys now, even though he hadn't even touched an instrument in such a long, long time. He had stopped trying to create something beautiful after he came back from war. Other than the fact that his mother had been dead for years, and nobody but she had ever listened to him, he just couldn't see the reason anymore. In a world where people hated and killed each other just because of the colour of one's skin, or political preferences... well, there was just no place for beauty. And then along came Katherine and destroyed the friendship between him and his brother, and even he forgot that there was something else in him besides all the hate and anger and disappointment.

But all that had been a long time ago. Other wars had been fought (not by him... the one time had been entirely enough) and peace had been found again. And even though there was always madness and cruelty, he also had seen compassion and love. With his feelings shut off (or at least ignored... he hadn't been able to control that switch for quite some time now) he had ignored all these things, but now... now it actually helped.

His eyes still closed, lost in memories and his music, he forgot about everything else around him, so he didn't even notice as Stefan walked into the room and sat down on the couch.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

He was in his room, leafing through a book detailing the moon phases as he heard strange, tinkering sounds.

Frowning, he laid the book down and followed them to the old music room. Nobody had been in there in... forever, practically. When he had arrived at the Boarding House over a year ago, the door had actually been hidden behind an old bookshelf. He got rid of the thing nearly right away; somehow it had been disturbing to have the door out of sight, even if nobody was ever entering the room. It was halfway open now, though, so he turned sideways – so not to have to open it any further and disturb whoever was in there – and went inside. Just as he turned to look in the direction of the old piano, the tinkering turned into a melody, and his jaw nearly dropped all the way down to the floor. He shook his head and pinched himself, but the picture remained the same. His brother was sitting on the bench, fingers moving fluently over the keys, and his feet using the pedals expertly, as if he never had stopped playing, as if he had been in here just yesterday. His body swayed a little to the melody, and there was a gentle smile painted onto his face.

Stefan couldn't - not for his life – remember when the last time was that he had seen his brother like this; so... human it nearly took his breath away. Of course he had seen Damon earlier, basking in the sun, or grinning like a fool over a simple sandwich. But this, right there, was something on another level entirely. He could see his brother again. Not the man, bitter from war and angry because he had to share the woman he loved.

Without his mind telling them to, his feet moved him to the couch and he sat down, feeling too heavy to stay standing all of a sudden.

This man, this was the brother he had loved and had been looking up to. It seemed like the vampire he had known for the past 146 years had been an imposter. Suddenly he felt incredibly bad for his earlier thoughts... true, he wanted Elena to be human and fragile like always but... he wanted his brother, too. His real brother, just like he saw him right now – wearing his heart on his sleeve, and not afraid to seem vulnerable or compassionate. Right now, he had no idea what he wanted more: his nice, human girlfriend or a happy ending for his brother. He knew it was selfish to think about what he would want most and not what the people in question would want but his thoughts wouldn't hurt anyone, if he would just keep them to himself.

So he sat there as quiet as possible so he wouldn't make Damon stop. The melody really was hauntingly beautiful, and it had been entirely too long since he had heard him play last. Before everything had gone downhill, he would sit in the parlour, listening to Damon for hours. His father would sit in his armchair, eyes closed, and a melancholy expression on his face – thinking about his dead wife, for sure. As Damon had returned from war though, he hadn't been to the music room even once; sometimes he had caught his father staring at the door longingly, but he never had said a word. Thinking about the past, he lost himself in his thoughts, and his regrets. Because, at the end of the day, he knew it was his fault alone that he had 'lost' Damon to begin with. He had known, back in 1864 that his brother was in love with Katherine. And still he had wanted her for himself, and took her (or took what she was willing to give – same difference when it came down to it). Then, Damon told him to not talk to their father, because it would just end badly. He did the exact opposite, and got all the vampires captured, and his brother and himself killed. And then Damon refused to finish the transition, and he forced him to do it anyway. He had started to make Damon hate him as he took the only thing he had ever confessed to want and love, and he had sealed the deal as he made him kill his first victim.

And now he got a look at what had been lost back then, and he knew that if it was possible at all... he probably would step back, and not say a word if Elena wanted to stay a vampire (he cringed at the thought, knowing that he would lose her then)... if Damon wanted to stay human; because no matter what he wanted, or what he was comfortable with, his brother deserved another chance, and Elena deserved to make her own decisions in life.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

He hadn't noticed Stefan right away, but after a while he came back to the present day – back to reality – and opened his eyes. He saw Stefan's reflection in the glass door of the bookcase across from him, but he couldn't be bothered to do anything about it. Also, Stefan didn't look as though he was about to mock him, or anything along those lines, so he just kept on playing. He knew that, sooner rather than later, there would be a talk (most likely more like a fight) about... everything going on, but right now, he just enjoyed this... the calm before the storm, way too much to interrupt it.

And there would be a storm; he could already feel it gathering – hear the electricity crackling in the air, and feel the rumble of the thunder deep in his bones.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

So, done! Like I already said in the last chapter, this was boring, but I had to "ease" Elena and Damon into their change, and now that that's done with, I can go over to more interesting stuff. Now I want to know what YOU guys would like to read next. I mean, I already have a lose plot and all that, but right now I'm still open for suggestions, because with this story the plot is not TOO fixated yet. I know how this story is going to end, and I know EXACTLY what will happen in the last two chapters. BUT, the way there is still a little bit in the open, so just... fire away, and I'll see what I can do (and what will fit with my ending!). Just click on the little button below, and tell me. Reviews are love, people.

So long,

Zora