When Elena woke up next, the sun was casting a buttery glow on her room and her sheets were tangled around her ankles. Disoriented, she stretched her arms out and came in contact with the empty half of the bed.
She sat up quickly, last night coming back to her rapidly. Damon had been here, and she had been laying in bed with him... Blood, he gave her his blood?
Elena swallowed, tasting a metallic twinge in her mouth. Her eyes felt swollen and she could feel dry tracks on her cheeks, reminding her of how much pain she had been in last night. Pain that he had made go away.
A huge rush of gratefulness swelled inside of her, and she sunk back into her bed, thinking to herself. She knows she should feel angry that he fed her his blood when she was in a delirious state, where she couldn't exactly deny it or approve, but she didn't. In fact, she could feel nothing but content; content that he was here, that he was the one who was helping her and no one else. She didn't want anyone else helping her.
Elated, she swung herself out of bed, wrapped a cardigan around her shoulders and walked downstairs. Jeremy was sitting at the table, eating cereal and drinking coffee. When he noticed her, he shuffled a bit and looked down at the lonely Cheerios floating around in the bowl of milk. Elena went strait to the coffee machine.
"So, you feeling better?" He asks, still looking down.
"Uh huh." She chirped, taking a sip of black coffee. Once, she used to load up her cup with extra cream and lots of sugar. But a long time ago, she had seen Damon drinking it black, so she decided to try it. At first, her face soured up at the bitter taste, but he had taught her to actually taste it, and ever since she's been addicted to the dark aroma it left in her mouth.
Again, Damon was immediately on her mind. She turned to Jeremy. "Did you... see when Damon left?"
Jeremy shuffled some more. "Uh, I think I heard the door shut sometime early in the morning."
She nodded her head, and was about to head upstairs to shower when Jeremy stopped her.
"He told me."
She froze, almost dropping the mug.
"...about the drugs." He continued, then took a deep breath. "Elena, I should've noticed, or at least suspected. And maybe I did know; I just always thought that the way you acted was because you were, like, really depressed or something. And I guess you were... But still, I'm so sorry I didn't notice. You always knew when I was high, and I hated it when you called me out for it. I guess I just never thought that you... I mean, you always tried to stop me and talk to me about it but I-" another deep breath. "I'm just sorry."
Elena took a deep breath as well, and blinked her tears away before turning around.
"I'm sorry, too, Jeremy. I never thought I'd... do that either. But everything just became easier, you know?"
The look on his face told her that he definitely did know what it was like; to feel that feeling of floating whether than feeling nothing at all.
"I'm getting better, though." She said, standing up straighter. "Damon's been helping me a lot. And honestly, if you hadn't called him back, then I'd probably be high right now." Elena finished bravely, because out of everyone, she knew Jeremy could understand.
He nodded, and a little smile came to his lips. "You know, Damon's still a dick. But he's kind of a good guy, as weird as that sounds."
Elena laughed, genuinely laughed. "Trust me, I know exactly what you mean." She finished and started walking upstairs. Jeremy's words brought something up inside her, something that felt like a blessing, a blessing to do something she wasn't quite ready to think about yet.
Elena straightened her her shirt and took a deep breath, smelling the roses and tulips that had grown in the flower beds lining the boarding house entrance. She briefly wondered who planted them before pushing the door open.
Although she knew both vampires could probably sense her coming a mile away, she still felt the need to tip toe towards the stairs, thinking of a confrontation she was hoping to avoid for, well, at least a few more days.
But luck was on her side, because that certain Salvatore didn't emerge from anywhere while she walked upstairs, down a hallway and to a door. Not bothering to knock, she let herself into his room.
Elena immediately spotted him by his fireplace, and her heart picked up as she watched him practically bury himself in the thing, scrubbing soot and dust off the brick walls and floor. She looked around and noticed his whole room was spotless.
"You never told me you had OCD." She teased, walking in confidently and plopping down on the ground next to him, crossing her legs.
"Yeah, well, you never told me you were a junkie until I forced it out of you, so I think we're even." He grumbled, his voice echoing a little into the pit and up the chimney.
If he had said it any differently, then the comment would probably hurt her feelings. But he had the same teasing tone in his voice as she did, so she just rolled her eyes.
"First of all, I'm not a junkie. Second of all, I hate needles, and third of all, you're a jerk." She bantered back.
He chuckled a little and finally pulled himself out to face her. His hair was a mess and there were streaks of soot on his face and arms. Strangely, she liked the look. It was a breath of fresh air from his usual perfect appearance, which always made her feel so plain just standing next to him.
He looked her up and down, his eyes guarded, as was the way he held himself.
"Thank you." She breathed, staring down at her hands, the intensity in his eyes too much for her right now.
"I don't know what I would do-"
"-if I wasn't here." He finished for her, grinning almost bitterly. "I know."
She stared at him, first to his eyes, then to his lips, like clockwork.
"How do you feel?" He asked, standing up and breaking the moment to go wash his hands.
Disappointed for a reason she couldn't explain, she answered. "I feel pretty good. Normal. Like how I used to." She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I just... Don't know how long it'll last."
Damon dried his hands off and wiped his face off with a towel. "Maybe a few more hours. Vampire blood lasts long in your system, but I can't say the same for the feeling you actually get from it."
He seemed to take a deep breath, then turned to look at her. "You have to be careful these next few days; try and stay indoors, don't do anything reckless. We wouldn't want you to die with it in your system, now would we?"
Elena swallowed, for she had almost forgotten that aspect of sharing vampire blood. It had been so long since there had been any crisis in Mystic Falls, and it worried her that she could forget the tragedies that could happen so easily.
"I will." She promises, but the something else is suddenly weighing on her mind.
"Damon..." She starts, fiddling with her hands. "When this feeling wears off, will I be back where I was before? Sick? Puking and... pain everywhere? I don't know if I can handle it again." Elena whispers, almost afraid of his answer.
He looks at her, his eyes softening to a deep blue and doesn't answer for a moment.
"I don't want you to be in pain." He murmurs, and turns to look at himself in the mirror, his hands gripping the sink like he was weighing something heavy on his mind.
After another loaded moment, he finally stands up and saunters over to her. He grabs her hand and pulls her up, then leads her to the bathroom. Confused, she sits down on the edge of the tub while he starts up the shower, adjusting the temperature right before turning back to her.
Nervous tingles run through her stomach as he pulls her up. "Damon, what're you-"
He shoves her in the shower and closes the glass door behind him. Seeing the bemused look in her eyes, he takes her hands reassuringly.
Water soaks both their hair and clothes while he's silent for a moment. Finally, he turns to look at her.
"Stefan's home." He says, not quite whispering but not talking loud either. "If he hears this, he'll flip out and probably kick both our asses."
Elena shakes her head, confused. "Hears what?"
Suddenly, Damon brings his wrist up to his mouth and she watches as his eyes fill up with blood, veins twirling around above his cheeks. Fascinated, she watches as his fangs pierce his own skin, and then he's holding it out to her.
"Here." He says, his voice breathless. "This'll buy you another day, until we can figure out what to do."
Elena looks down at the twin marks, velvet red running out of each hole. Her hands move for themselves, and then she's shoving his hand against her mouth and sucking, licking, lapping.
She's not sure if the groan she hears is coming from him or her, but she keeps drinking, drinking the salty, metallic substance that somehow brings life into her.
Eventually, he tears his arm away, and she's shocked when she finds the position they're in. Damon's back is pressed against the tile wall, and she's curled into his chest, her cheek wet against his soaked shirt while his fingers are wrapped in her hair and her own fingers are digging into his hips.
The hot water pouring on them and the taste of his rich blood still on her tongue sends something foreign strait into her. And then she's pressing herself closer, as close as she can get, shoving her hands up his shirt and marveling at his perfect skin. She's breathing hard against his collarbone, and she's hardly aware that he's saying her name. Her lips are brushing over his neck when she finally hears him.
"Elena, stop. Stop!" He exclaims, his voice a mixture of want and anger and grief all at the same time.
He pushes her shoulders away, and she falls back, already missing their contact. Immediately, he turns a nozzle on the shower and then the water is cold, freezing cold. She screeches.
He yanks open the shower door and pulls her out with him, grabbing a towel and throwing it at her.
The cold water manages to clear her mind, and then she realizes what just happened.
"Damon-"
"Don't."
She tears up and struggles to keep them in, but they find their way down her cheeks regardless and blend in with her already wet skin.
"We need to talk about this." She sniffles, walking up to him. She attempts to touch his shoulder but he pulls away and stomps into his closet, pulling a fresh shirt off a hanger.
"Talk about what?" He asks, his voice emotionless as he pulls his wet shirt over his head and throws it into a hamper. She watches his bare skin, unable to help it, and when he catches her he smirks crudely.
"You know what." She spits out, embarrassed as she turns away so he can change in privacy.
"No, Elena, I really don't."
Frustration rises up in her and also confliction. She's known since the moment he's been back that they've needed to talk, talk about everything that had happened between them up until he left, but she's also scared, scared of what might come from this particular conversation.
"Yes you do." She says, turning around to glare at him. Luckily, his shirt is back on.
When he doesn't reply, she starts back up. "Look, I'm sorry for what happened. I don't know what happened... I just got overwhelmed-"
"It was the blood, Elena." He replies sharply. "Sharing blood is personal. You know that."
She sniffles again. "It wasn't just that, you know that. And I'm tired of avoiding this! I-"
"Just stop, Elena. You're just going to say something that, God forbid, leads me to hope, and then you're going to disregard it and go right back to-"
"Just don't bring him into this, for once! He has nothing to do-"
"Nothing to do with this? So while you were practically dry humping me in the shower, he wasn't right there with us, like some huge pink elephant dancing in a damn tutu-"
"I wasn't thinking of him!" She screams, unaware that her voice had risen so much.
"Of course you weren't." He scoffs. "Just like you weren't thinking of him that night in Denver when you were, once again, dry humping me against a-"
"Would you stop saying that?! I wasn't dry humping you for God's sake! Jesus, Damon, ever since you came back I don't even know what I feel anymore." Elena yells, digging her fingernails into her palms and really wishing she had that beautiful orange bottle in her pocket right now.
"Well there's a surprise; Elena Gilbert doesn't know what she feels." He mocks, pouring himself a drink that fills half the glass, which he downs in a second.
"You're such an asshole!" She replies, breathing hard and fast.
Damon rolls his eyes, because he's probably heard that one over a hundred times, and continues drinking. From there on, it's silence, the echo of their fight hovering in the air. Elena doesn't think she's ever fought with someone so heatedly before, except maybe with him.
Suddenly, Elena feels a presence behind her, and she spins around to see Stefan standing in the doorway. His eyebrows are drawn together in that special way that only happens when it's caused by his girlfriend(?) and brother.
"What's going on?" He asks, his eyes flickering back and forth between the two of them. He looks at Elena's soaked clothes and then to Damon downing bourbon like water.
Damon sits up, "Your girlfriend here seems to have conflicting emotions about the two of us." He mock whispers. "Shocking! Am I right, brother?"
Stefan looks from his brother and then to her, his green eyes surveying her. "Elena?"
"It's nothing, Stefan!" She snaps, not bothering to feel guilty about her nasty tone and feeling like she's about to break down. Damon quirks an eyebrow up in amusement, but she knows he's anything but amused.
Elena shoves the tears off her face and grabs the towel that Damon gave her and walks to the door, elbowing past Stefan and fighting her hardest to keep from sobbing. Leaving the two brothers, she rushes down to her car, where she finally lets her tears come out.
Once again, she finds herself in the same situation she was in two years ago. Torn between two brothers, but leaning towards the one that she didn't chose the last time.
A/N: Hey, guys! So sorry it's taken be so long to update, but I had problems sitting down and writing this chapter, but luckily when I finally did it all just came flowing out. I hope you like it, I think a lot of things really come to head in this chapter.
Thank you for reading and thanks to my awesome beta, too. Drop off a review if you don't mind! :)