"Those are bad for you, you know."

I nearly dropped the freshly lit cigarette, starting at the voice behind me. Hands shaking, I took a long drag before I turned around. Sure enough Damon stood there, half lit in the dim streetlights, looking no worse for the wear. "You're supposed to be dead." I said.

"Sorry to disappoint," The edge of his mouth twitched ever so slightly and he settled on the curb beside me, "But really Liz, smoking?"

I nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of it, "This town, my job? Do you really think I'll live long enough to get cancer Damon?"

Won't you kill me first?

He regarded me silently and I shivered in the sudden cold. I wished I could read his mind right then. At times it seemed he wore his heart on his sleeve, but I now wondered if any of those concerned, pained expressions had been genuine. He had fooled me for months, hiding his nature and I felt the heat rise in my cheeks as I thought of the times I had opened up to him.

I felt foolish, tired, and afraid, but I was too exhausted to fight or run. This town was changing, my daughter was a vampire, as was the man I thought I could trust with my life. I silently decided that if I died right here in the cold foggy night, at least I wouldn't have to feel this hollow, throbbing pain anymore. "Did you come here to finish the job?" I found myself asking, my voice wavering slightly.

"No." He responded immediately, with complete nonchalance. I might as well have been asking if he wanted a drag of my cigarette. He didn't seem offended by the question, seemed almost as if he had expected it.

I let his answer sink in, somewhat relieved but he could easily be lying. How would I know until the moment he ripped out my throat? I took a deep breath "Then what? Lock me up? Compel me again?"

"No." He sighed and produced a flask from seemingly out of nowhere. Downing some of the contents he let out a grunt. He seemed conflicted and… sad. "You would find out again eventually. Maybe next time you really would kill someone."

My heart flared with shame and guilt as I thought of Jeremy. The way his eyes glazed over as he fell to the floor… the blood… He could have died, a horrible mistake. I had been aiming for Damon, the very creature sitting next to me and I felt a spark of anger well up and die just as quickly. His voice wasn't accusing, simply stating facts.

"Are you okay?" He asked, suddenly sounding like the friend I knew again. "Will you be okay?" he amended.

I realized that there were tears streaming freely from my eyes and wiped them away hastily, the cigarette dropped from my fingers. He wordlessly handed over the flask which I accepted after a moment's hesitation. I drank deeply, letting the burn of expensive bourbon distance me from my thoughts and from the current situation. He looked at me expectantly and I realized I had not answered him. "I don't know."

He nodded and reached a hand out slowly as if trying not to startle me. My eyes widened but I held my ground, heart jumping in my chest as he delicately wiped a stray tear away. It was such a tender thing, such a human act, reserved for friends and lovers, not whatever we were, so unexpected that I simply sat there staring at him. "No, you'll be okay. I'm sure of it." He murmured softly.

It took a moment for me to collect myself. "Why are you here?" I asked, my voice sounded weak, defeated.

"To see how you were." He said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "This can't be easy for you."

I snorted at the understatement and it warped into a sob. Before I knew it I was crying. His arms wrapped tightly around me, which made me cry harder. I began to struggle, panic setting in, but he held me, his chin resting on my shoulder and my eyes pressed into his, soaking his black shirt with my tears. He made small noises of comfort and gently stroked my shoulders with the back of his hand.

He held me like that until I quieted. The feel of his lips pressing to my neck was disconcerting to say the least, though I managed to calm down. I murmured an apology as we separated, but his arms stayed at my shoulders, providing unexpected reassuring support. I wondered again if this was an act, but at that moment I needed it to be real, so I quashed that suspicious part of me. He was warm and he felt human. This was a human thing to do. I looked into his eyes, impossibly blue and let myself fall into them. "No matter what else, Caroline cares about you. I care about you."

That sincere wistful look, his gaze boring into mine, the vehemence of his words, he was Damon, my friend again. "I tried to kill you." I pointed out dumbly.

"Twice." He corrected with a shrug, like it wasn't a big deal. Maybe it wasn't, vampires could possibly be used to this sort of thing, right? There was that twitch in the corner of his mouth again. At least one of us could see the humor in the situation.

I had been compelled the first time. I suddenly longed for those lost memories. In a day everything I was so certain of was turned upside down and inside out. Vampires were bloodthirsty killers without remorse. They didn't help people. I knew this as certainly as I knew the sun would rise at dawn. I had seen the havoc they wrought on their victims, lied to families through my teeth about why their child, mother, father, husband, or wife was not coming home. But here one sat across from me, looking into my eyes with such concern. My daughter had wept as she begged me to accept her as she was now. I said only what I was thinking "I don't understand… any of this."

He let out a long sigh and stood, wearing a wistful smile and gave me one last tender look. "I'm your friend Liz, the rest is just details."

For the first time that night I felt safe enough to tear my gaze away. When I looked back again he was gone.