Chapter Eighteen: The Amoeba Redemption

Damon Salvatore

After a few calls on a thankfully water-resistant phone, it turned out Stefan was right: cab companies really don't like the idea of picking up waterlogged clients. Grabbing a towel from the lodge before leaving, Damon realized he probably should have lied about that – after all, he might have dried off in time for them not to notice. Though they certainly would have picked up on the smell of fish water.

So Damon resigned himself to a humiliating traipse back through the woods towards the road, his horned head and soggy attire earning him odd looks from the occasional rambler and dog walker. Releasing a forced smile in their direction appeared to do nothing to reassure them that there wasn't a swamp monster on the loose, but oh well – their opinion didn't matter.

The only opinion that mattered to him was Elena's, and he still – for the life of him – couldn't understand why. Between scraping off dead leaves from the soles of his wet shoes and batting away flies that were attracted to his new Eau de Compost scent, Damon tried to figure it out.

Something had happened to him earlier that morning – and he knew it was serious because he had lied to Elena about it. He had never fallen asleep and woken up to her nuzzling him. He'd been wide awake, still attempting to break free... and gotten pretty close to it too. He'd managed to slide one wrist around a curve in the metal bed frame, bringing it to a sharp point – some stupid leaf design befitting for a bed in the wilderness. After a good few minutes of straining to dig that point between the bandages, he'd finally succeeded – and that's when Elena had stirred.

He tried to kid himself that he gave up on his escape attempt in case she woke up and caught him. In reality, the moment he felt her nose and lips press against his neck like she was trying to bury herself into him, he was a goner. He lost all motivation to leave that spot ever, and so he slept along with her, allowing all the damn cuddle chemicals flooding his body to pull him into unconsciousness.

Why he'd lied about it though – pretending to her that he'd woken up – well, he couldn't figure that part out. Yes, he'd cracked enough jokes about dating and possibly even marrying this girl, but there was something about how perfect that moment had felt – something new and extremely confusing.

Something that wasn't a joke anymore.

Something that maybe she didn't need to know about just yet.

And then she went and drew horns on his head, and he'd felt it even harder... so, yeah, he was clearly a masochist at this point. Elena was seriously under his skin, and there didn't seem to be a limit to how much pain, discomfort, or humiliation he was willing to tolerate in order to keep her there.

Boy... he was totally screwed.

Finally spotting the road in the distance, he was surprised to see that Elena was still there. She was sitting in her car, behind the wheel, her tire freshly changed, with Stefan and Caroline appearing to be long gone. That was odd. Enough time had passed that she should have left by now. But he wasn't going to dwell on it too long and miss this opportunity, so he threw the towel around the back of his neck, picked up his pace, and sprinted toward her car.

Grabbing onto the door handle, he yanked it.

Of course she'd locked it.

She slowly turned her head toward him, like she'd been expecting his arrival. Then she pressed a button, winding down the passenger side window a few inches.

Elena leaned closer. "Do you really think I haven't learned my lesson by now, Mr Passenger Seat Poacher?"

So, she had been expecting him? But wait a minute... that meant...

Damon's mouth hung open and the corners of his lips raised. "You were waiting for me!"

Discomposed, Elena sat upright, looked away, and hit the button to wind up the window.

"No, no, no, wait!" Damon grabbed onto the edge of the window, clinging desperately until his fingers got trapped in the narrowing gap. "Ow, ow, ow! Unwind, unwind!"

Elena begrudgingly hit the button again, bringing the window down an inch. "Move your hand."

"Not until you listen to me."

Elena grunted, "Fine", and hit the button again, mercilessly trapping his fingers once more. Ignoring his yelps of discomfort, she got out of the car, rounded the bonnet, and stood in front of him. "Talk."

"My fingers are still stuck."

She crossed her arms. "You can't get in the car if your hand is trapped."

Damon blinked. "Damn. Smart." He sighed, unsure of what to say. He hadn't even expected her to still be here when he reached the road. In the end, he settled on a question to which he was almost sure he already knew the answer. "Why are you still mad at me? Wasn't the doodling and impromptu lake baptism enough of a punishment?"

"Because you didn't apologize."

Damon's eyebrows shot up. He was expecting a long list of his transgressions, not something quite so simple as that. "That's it?!" Fine, apology speedrun, here we go. Difficulty level: toddler. He flared out his free hand, lowering his fingers as he counted off each of his apologies. "I'm sorry for stalking you. I'm sorry for breaking into your apartment. I'm sorry for lying to you. I'm sorry for getting into bed with you –" He paused, promptly reinstating that finger. "Actually, I'm not so sorry about that one, it was kind of on my bucket list."

Elena whacked him on the shoulder, forcing him to lower his fourth finger again. She wasn't smiling, but she didn't exactly seem angry about his remark either.

Damon held up the final digit remaining on his free hand. "What other apology would you like?"

"I'd like you to apologize to Stefan."

Dropping his hand, Damon blurted, aghast, "For giving me a fish bath?!"

Elena stomped her foot, frustrated. "For stealing my key from him," she badgered. "Damon, he's my landlord – that's part of his income – and if I'd been anyone but a friend to him, he could have lost that. He could have ended up in court. You could have damaged his reputation. You just didn't think –"

The sudden seriousness cut deep. Damon closed his eyes, retorting sharply, "That's because I don't think, Elena – not when it comes to you. I wanted your attention, and I got it. And maybe the reason I'm struggling to apologize for that is because... I... don't... regret it."

Damon's words caught Elena off-guard, and her breath held in her throat. She couldn't look away from his piercing blue eyes as he waited tensely for her reaction – for her to hit him, shout at him, storm back into the car – any reaction but the one she gave him. It took far too long to come, but eventually her eyes dropped to the ground, and she swallowed before she calmly spoke. "Apologize to Stefan and we can start again with a clean slate."

Damon's expression became hopeful. "A clean slate?"

"A semi-clean slate," she amended. "You still irritate the hell out of me."

The corners of Damon's lips lifted. "I can work with that." He reached into his pocket, took out his phone, and single-handedly typed a message to Stefan. He held the screen out to Elena, showing her the words I'm sorry as evidence. The moment he pulled back the phone, a reply came through.

"What did he say?" Elena asked, both hopeful and nervous.

Damon read from the screen. "Call an ambulance, the water obviously contained a brain-eating amoeba." He rolled his eyes at his brother's reply and tucked his phone away, looking back at Elena. "Are we good now?"

Elena scoffed a dry chuckle and started walking back around the car. "I wouldn't go that far, but it's a start." She then paused by her door, her eyes lowered, deep in thought. "Damon?" Glancing up to see him staring at her expectantly, she let out a deep sigh and shrugged. Her voice was quiet, almost hesitant. "Why me?"

It was a question Damon thought he would struggle to answer, but surprisingly he didn't. It was like he'd spent the past couple of days walking into an exam, his mind blank, having no idea what he was doing... but then he'd turned the first page, the adrenaline had surged, and suddenly it was all clear to him. "At first I thought it was because you were the complete opposite of me – optimistic, romantic, idealistic – basically everything I'm not. But then I realized that wasn't it." He exhaled sharply, the confession scraping out of him. "You've got a big heart, Elena – a big heart that's wrapped in a whole bunch of crazy, and somehow I relate to that. I guess I just see myself in you."

Elena tilted her head, her features softening. Subtle fidgets revealed she was uncomfortable, unused to seeing Damon like this – stripped of his usual bravado, his defenses down, speaking with raw and fragile honesty. Studying Damon's face, her eyes flickered as she replayed his words in her mind, absorbing them over and over again.

She absorbed them too thoroughly.

Her eyelids slowly tightened. "You see yourself in me?"

"Oh, you picked up on that innuendo, huh?" Damon smirked sheepishly. He couldn't help but notice the more tense she was, the more at ease she seemed to be. He realized it was going to take a lot of work to break through that "whole bunch of crazy" she had going on.

Elena rolled her eyes and opened the door, leaning in to hit the button that lowered the window to release his fingers. "Lay the towel down before you get in the car, Damon."