For thewasabipea who inspired me to get off my butt and get back into the fandom.

"I hate you—a lot," Caroline said to him, brushing his hair off his forehead. All four vampires were in the Salvatore Manor and Elena and Stefan were doing a very good job of ignoring Damon. At this point he was so drunk he was on the floor in misery. Caroline knew it was one last hurrah before he left town—permanently. "Want to know why?"

"Why?" Damon asked sarcastically. He rolled his eyes in annoyance. Blondie really knew how to kick a guy while he was down and it was killing his buzz.

"Because all that love I have for you just didn't know what to do with itself." Damon was quite suddenly sober when he heard that. He blinked a few times trying to see if it really was Blondie or if he was having some sort of werewolf bite flashback.

Nope. She was still there.

"Obviously most it is warranted considering you treated me like crap, but I'm a vampire, I get it. So then the rest is just sort of bitter that you love Elena and not me. I loved you—even when I wasn't compelled. For those moments where I remembered what you did and didn't care. For it to have been all for nothing." Caroline felt a huge weight begin to lift off her shoulders. This was the closure she needed even if it was a year late. Plus, she felt like Damon needed to hear it.

"...Right," he murmured, floored and managing to swallow his sarcastic remark.

"I think, that, maybe, in fifty years, I'll get over it and we can be best friends," she said with a smirk. Caroline patted his head, making Damon roll his eyes once more. "Except when we meet again, I want to see a Damon that doesn't need a woman to be happy."

Damon blinked once more and with an impudent grin, Caroline kissed his cheek, the corner of their lips brushing, before she disappeared with vampire speed.

"I wanna see that Damon too." He sighed before contemplating the near empty bottle of bourbon.

"Fifty years eh?"