I feel this twisting in my stomach, knowing that I've helped Damon Salvatore kidnap Mason Lockwood, someone I know Damon is not going to be civil too. I climb into his truck as he holds the door open and turn around to see he and Stefan loading Mason's body into the back. His nose is bloody from where Damon kneed him and I have to push away the sympathy I feel for him, at least for now. I turn back around to see Damon starting up the car and driving away, Stefan watching us from a distance.

"Where are we going?" I ask, nervous about how close I am to Damon, his arm less than a foot away from mine.

"My house," he replies, not taking his eyes off the road. "I need to know what he knows."

"What could he possibly know?"I ask, turning around to make sure Mason wasn't awake.

Damon rolls his eyes in that way that makes my fists clench. He is so arrogant.

"Well, he knows Katherine so he obviously knows something," he replies.

"Are you going to hurt him?" I ask, not knowing why I'd even bothered to ask.

He glances at me, as if unsure about whether he should be honest. His hesitation is enough but still, he answers me.

"He tried to kill me and Stefan," he says. "Sometimes you have to do whatever it takes."

"But you're not going to kill him right?" I ask, trying to read Damon's body language.

He looks tense and uncomfortable and he's avoiding making eye contact. I've never seen him even remotely awkward. I can tell he's trying not to tell me anything and I know it's because he knows I can easily stop this.

"Look Bonnie you just don't understand how this works," he finally says, shaking his head. "Not everything is civilized and nice like it is in your world."

"Damon you don't have to kill everyone that gets in your way," I reply, annoyed. "This is exactly why I don't like helping you."

"Well unless you want me and Stefan and possibly Elena dead, you'll get over it," he snaps.

"You're such an asshole," I mutter, looking out the window.

"Yeah," he replies, his voice low. "I know."

Damon unloads Mason from the truck and with one swift move he's in his living room and I find myself trailing after him, Mason's bag weighing me down.

"Here's his bag," I say, my breath leaving me. "As requested."

Damon throws Mason's onto a chair roughly, points at a white sheet and says,

"Grab that corner."

"Why are we doing this?" I ask, bending down to pick it up anyway.

"Because I don't want to stain the carpet," he replies, darkly.

"I knew you were going to say something like that," I mutter, secretly terrified of why Damon would have to stain the carpet at all.

"Judging again," he sighed, moving to the other side of the carpet.

I move where Mason is and touch his temples, feeling Damon beside me, watching curiously. Images of a wet, dark place flash in my head until I realize I'm looking at a well. I transfer this news to Damon, who simply says,

"Why would it be in a well?"

I sigh and open my eyes again.

"I told you I only get what I get."

Before I realize what's happening, Mason's hand reaches out and grips my wrist, until Damon pushes me away and snatches Mason's hand off mine. My heart is pounding hard and I'm too terrified to acknowledge that Damon has just protected me.

"That's it," I say, walking away quickly from them. "That's all I got."

I am ready to run out before Damon calls me.

"Hey Judgey," he says, his voice low again.

I turn around and see him, his blue eyes staring at me with some kind of emotion I can't figure out. Gratefulness? Vulnerability? Trust? Or maybe sincerity. He pauses for a moment, as if unsure of what to say.

"Thank you," he continues, his blue eyes big and penetrating.

I nod and turn around, afraid if that I stay any longer I'll witness something that will make me regret what I've just done.

It's funny, I think to myself. Of all the people in the world, Damon is the only who's thank you's always feel sincere.