Elena set her purse in the seat next to her and she sighed. Her dress was missing. With all the commotion this evening, it gave anyone the perfect chance to steal her gown. She'd probably never wear it again, but it was a very nice dress. Her fingers jammed her keys in the ignition as she pulled out on to the road. She knew she needed to go home and talked to Jeremy, but there was something she needed to do first. Try as she might, she couldn't stay away. She just wanted to make sure he was okay. That was all.

She knew the way to the boarding house like the back of her hand, and the trip went by in a blur. Her car came to a stop in their driveway and she tried to ignore the flip flop of her stomach. She hadn't forgotten the way it felt when Damon had rushed over to them and grabbed her hand. Her hand fit perfectly in his and she could feel the spark between them, much like their dance. And she hadn't been able to ignore the way he squeezed her hand before letting go.

This is ridiculous, she thought. Damon was her friend. They had been for what felt like ever now. He was still and ass and didn't give a rat's ass about anyone, except for her. She'd seen the difference in him on numerous occasions and she was happy with their friendship. She trusted him and if she needed anything she knew he'd give it to her without question.

Finally she climbed out of her car and made her way up the steps. She didn't linger about, could be anyone watching their house. She let herself in easily as she had so many times before and closed the door firmly behind her. The house was dark, as it often was. The butterflies increased ten- fold. She didn't hear any kind of movement as she took a few steps forward but Damon was good at sneaking up on her.

She didn't have any super sense to figure out when he was around and he made it a regular thing of popping up out of nowhere and scaring the crackers out of her. There was some illumination in the living room, but only enough to create strange shadows throughout the room. She had no idea what kind of state Damon was in after the fire. He seemed okay when Stefan had gotten him out, but then he just disappeared, and that worried her more then she cared to admit.

Regardless of how much they fought, over whatever the topic was, both brothers seem to care on some level. Neither would let the other die, less by their own hand. She stopped trying to analyze them; it was too complicated for her measly little mind. But she was grateful they could get past their differences when it was life or death.

She still couldn't wrap her mind around Uncle John. Well she couldn't call him that anymore. She was nothing like him; she couldn't believe that her whole life had been a lie. She missed her parents, her real parents that raised her, loved her. Not Isobel and John that seemed set on ruining her life and everyone in it. She shook her head and carefully stepped through the living room, avoiding any antique furniture that could cause some serious injury to her toes. "Damon?" She called out hesitantly. "Are you home?"

She blindly groped through the living room, relaxing when she came in contact with the lamp on the end table. A dim light filled the room once she flicked the switch, revealing an empty living room. She bit her lip and glanced around as her phone vibrated in her pocket. It was from Matt, but she pressed ignore before stuffing it back in the back pocket of her black jeans. Maybe Damon was out drinking. She wouldn't blame him after the night he had.

But she had to go home. She needed to try to talk to her brother again. With a final look around she left the living room, heading back toward the front door. She paused when she heard a creek, like in the floor boards. Neither brother made noise when they walked and her heart clenched. If someone was stupid enough to break into their house, they were going to be in for a world of pain. Hopefully before she was. She grabbed the statue off the table in the foyer and crept back toward the kitchen. She had good reflexes; well she thought she did anyway.

She made her way toward the kitchen where Damon came around the corner, his hand shooting out to grab her wrist before the statue came cracking down on his head. "Elena," he said, raising an eyebrow. "How… how'd you get here so fast? And what are you doing? Trying to crack me over the head?"

"I came to check on you but I didn't know you were home I just heard a noise," she said, setting the statue down on the table. "Can't be too careful. As for your other question, I drove. Didn't see you much after the fire and I wanted to make sure you were okay before I went home." She hoped things wouldn't be weird with them anymore. She made it clear that Damon was just her friend.

Damon's eyes narrowed. "I was just at your house," he said, pointing to the kitchen that he had just come from. "I saw you not 5 minutes ago. We…"

Well things just got officially weird. "I haven't been home yet Damon," she said, her brows scrunching in confusion. "My stuff went missing tonight with all the commotion. You sure you're okay? Maybe the fire did a number on you along with the vervain. Did you feed? Get your strength up?"

For a moment into space then it clicked. He could feel the light bulb go off above his head. "Son of a bitch," he growled, his hand chucking the statue into the wall, shattering it. "Something is wrong," he said. "Do not leave. I'll call Stefan and we'll handle it. But promise me you will stay here."

Any other time she would have fought him, demanded he give her answers, but she heard urgency in his voice that she had ever heard before. So whatever was going on was very serious. "I promise," she said, squeezing his arm. "I swear I won't follow."

Damon pressed a kiss to her forehead before heading out.

Damon met Stefan a block away from Elena's house. "It's Katherine," he said, balancing on the balls of his feet. He was good at keeping his composure, not letting anyone know what was going on, but he could feel it slipping fast. Katherine knew how he felt about Elena and she had used it against him, to play him.


"I thought it was Elena," Damon said, clenching his fist. "You sneak upstairs and get Jeremy and Jenna. Katherine's mine."Damon headed inside without a word and the smell of blood assaulted his nose. He didn't know who Katherine had hurt, but he couldn't blow his cover. "Elena?"

"Back for more?" She teased coming out of the kitchen.

Damon could see the difference. She held herself differently, more poised. Her eyes were darker, sultrier, and her neck was bare. He should have noticed her not wearing a necklace. "Are you offering?" He asked, leaning in the doorway. He was a good actor. He was sure that he could fool her long enough. He felt sick. The woman he had loved for over a century was standing before him, and he couldn't stand to look at her. She wasn't who he wanted.

Katherine approached him. "We should talk," she said, tilting her head so her hair moved from her face.

That was such an Elena thing to say, and it tore at him. He thought Elena was finally coming around, returning his feelings. But all his hopes had been shattered. "Less talking," he said, lowering his lips to hers. "More killing."

She gasped as a stake protruded from her ribs. "Damon…"

"See you in hell," he seethed, pushing her corpse to the ground. He thought it'd be harder to kill her. She made him and he could feel the empty space in him, but he didn't care. Not about anything. He was tired of having these human emotions. They made him crazy.

Stefan came down the stairs slowly, a grim expression on his face. "Damon…"

"She killed someone," Damon said in a robotic tone as he stared at her face. His stomach was still churning at the smell of the blood. He never thought he could be sick at the thought, but tonight was the exception. "Can…"

"I'll take care of this," Stefan said, resting a hand on Damon's shoulder. "Jenna is calling 911. Jeremy… he's dead."

Damon's gazed snapped up. "She killed him?" It was Jeremy's blood he smelled. She murdered the poor boy.

Stefan shook his head. "There's no mark. It was something else," he said.

He couldn't be here anymore, he had to get out. He didn't know who else she had killed, but he didn't want to stick around for the rest. "I have to go," Damon said, backing out the door. He didn't know what he needed right now, but he knew only Elena could help him. But how could he face her now that her brother was dead?