"Aren't you going to invite us in?" Damon asked with a disarming smile. Elena groaned. Bonnie was unamused by Damon's request. She stepped out of her house and onto the porch, shutting the door quietly behind her.

"I'm going to say this once, and it's only for Elena's sake. Not yours," she said. "That's the only joke you get. The only one. From here on out, you think very carefully before you open your mouth, because the next time you so much as look at me sideways, I will not stop popping bubbles in your brain until you go insane from the pain and are left a pathetic, quivering mess. Even more than you are now. Then, and only then, will I put you out of your misery." She took a step forward, standing toe-to-toe with the vampire. "Do you understand me?"

Damon looked down at the witch, his smile cold as ice. Elena saw him consider a witty retort, but he wisely abandoned it. Even after everything she'd done to him, he respected Bonnie. Didn't necessarily like her, but she had guts, and that counted for something in Damon's book. He nodded.

Was this what it was going to be like every time Bonnie and Damon were in the same room? Bonnie had some compelling reasons to hate vampires in general and Damon in particular. What was Elena supposed to say- "Bonnie, you should really get over the fact that your Grams died saving Damon from his own idiotic actions. It's all okay now because I love him, so can't you just be happy for us?" Not happening. Elena knew Damon and Bonnie would never be friends, but she wished Bonnie would stop threatening to kill Damon.

"Thanks for saying that for my sake," Elena said drily. "We got it. We didn't come here to fight. We came to help." Elena offered her the book.

Bonnie eyed the book suspiciously for a moment, but her curiosity won out. She accepted the old leather-bound tome, flipping through its worn, yellowed pages. "Where did you find this?"

"The Witch House," Elena lied smoothly. Damon shot her a surprised glance, but made no move to correct her. "It was mixed in with some old junk, hadn't been touched in years. I think—I think it might have been Emily's."

Elena hated lying to her friend. Despised it. But Bonnie would never trust the book if she knew where it really came from. They needed her to be able to look at the book objectively, without Katherine's baggage clouding her judgment. What did it matter where they'd foundthe book, so long as it had the information they needed?

"Really? I thought I'd been through every book there," Bonnie murmured, but she was already engrossed in the crumbling pages. "But it's Emily's handwriting."

"I think Klaus moved some stuff around when he was there," Damon said. "Might have unearthed a cache." He squeezed Elena's hand.

"We don't know that there's anything in there; it didn't make any sense to me. But it might at least give you some new ideas. Have you and your mom found anything?" Elena asked.

Bonnie tore her eyes away from the book, shaking her head. "No. Mom's been...out of the game for a while. It's taking her some time to get used to being around magic again. And mostly we've just been going through books, trying to find a clue. But I still think—I know- we can get it open. It's just going to take more time. I know we don't have a lot of that, but-"

"If time's what you need, then you'll have it," Damon said. "I'll make sure Klaus and company stay away. Just get the coffin open, Bonnie. Please," he said, all traces of jest gone, his face set in hard, grim lines.

Last night, they'd somehow managed to forget, just for a few hours, how screwed they were. But morning dawned, its harsh, bright light illuminating the full magnitude of the situation. If Bonnie's decoy spell didn't hold, if Klaus actually could open the coffin, all of their nightmares would come true in a heartbeat. Elena hoped that she, Damon, and Stefan would be the only casualties, but she knew that this tidal wave of horror would leave no survivors.

"I'm doing everything I can. Keep them away from here, but promise me you'll keep her safe, too," Bonnie said, jerking her head towards Elena.

"Always," Damon said.

"I'll let you know what I find. Be careful," Bonnie said. She disappeared into the house.

Elena slumped against the porch railing with a sigh. "The worst part is not knowing. I mean, how long has he had that coffin? Forever? He might never plan on opening it, or he might open it right now, since he's got his hybrid army and his family all together." So long as Klaus lived, they'd never really be safe. The hammer could fall in ten minutes or in a hundred years, and time meant so little when you were an arrogant immortal jerkoff.

"That's why I'm going to go find out what's going on at Casa de Klaus," Damon said. He fished in his pocket, withdrawing his car keys. "Here, you go home. Or to school, if you're really feeling adventurous. I've got prowling to do."

"You can't honestly think that I'm just going to twiddle my thumbs while everyone else is risking their lives to bring him down," Elena said. "I'm coming with you. I'm not just going to sit around and wait for him to kill me. We did that once, remember? It sucked."

"Not a chance. I hate to break it to you, but you're slow and you're loud. Taking you with me is a sure way for us both to get caught. And dead," Damon said.

"Then I'll act as a diversion or something! I need to do something to feel useful, Damon. I'm not afraid." Elena would never forget returning to the boarding house on that night with the moon so bright and full above them, knowing that he was waiting for her. The helplessness, the horrible pull of destiny—it had all been too much. She wouldn't be led like a lamb to slaughter ever again.

"But I am," he said quietly. He looked at her from under those dark, thick lashes. "If something happens to me, you'd be okay. You'd be sad for a while, but you have other good things in your life. Friends, family, a future. What do I have? A brother who hates me, a psychotic ex-girlfriend, and a list of enemies a mile long. You're all I've got." He cradled her face in his hands. "I'm asking you to do this for me. There will be plenty of danger I can't protect you from; you'll get your piece of the action. But for now, just try to get on with the business of living, and let me deal with the vampires."

He was right. Elena never had to consider a future without Damon, not really. She was the breakable one, the one who might wind up dead or chained to a blood drip for the rest of her (hopefully short) life. She was the one who refused to take the gift he offered so freely—immortality. He was the one who would have to watch her age, watch her slowly shrivel and diminish until there was nothing left. There was no future without Damon for her, but Damon knew that unless something changed, unless she changed, he would only have her for a few decades, if they were very lucky. How could she risk herself unnecessarily just so she felt useful?

"You know I can't say no to you when you put it like that," she said, her hands covering his. "Just this once. I'm not going to sit on the sidelines through this all," she warned.

"Wouldn't dream of keeping you on the bench, Elena," he said. He knew he'd won, the smirky bastard. He leaned in to kiss her, but he stopped short with a chuckle, listening to a muffled sound Elena couldn't quite catch.

"What?" Elena asked.

"Bonnie. She asked, very nicely, if we could not make out on her front porch. Apparently, it's making her lose her appetite." Damon stepped away from Elena. "You got it, Bon. Have fun!" he yelled. Damon drew Elena down the steps and onto the sidewalk. Then he took her in his arms and kissed her. "I'll be back soon, safe and sound. Promise."

"No risks," she said. "Don't be a hero."

"Oh, please. Have you met me? I don't do heroics." He stole another kiss for the road. "Love you." And he was gone.