Four

"Maybe you should rest for another day,"

Elena tore her eyes from their blank inspection of the kitchen table to look up at her grandmother stood at the sink.

"Another day resting would be even more torturous than yesterday was." She set down her empty cup and rose from the chair.

Rose lifted a hand to push the curls from Elena's face. "You needed your rest."

"And now I have it." Elena returned, agitated.

"Someone's impatient this morning."

Both Elena and Rose turned to meet Damon striding into the kitchen, sliding an axe into the holster around his back. He slid into a chair and pulled his booted feet up to rest on the one next to it, flashing Elena a half smirk. "Craving the great outdoors?"

Elena scowled. "I've been cooped up inside for an entire week, what do you think?"

"You've paid visits to the garden." Damon pointed out playfully. Elena sent him one final glare then turned back to her grandmother. "Please, Grandmama, I cannot bear to stay indoors any longer."

"You don't need my permission."

That was true. Her grandmother wasn't the obstacle. Damon was. If she left, he would take the role of her shadow and that was worse than staying inside. She grimaced at the thought of spending another day without going outside. No, nothing could be worse than that.

She had things to do, missions to fulfil. She was supposed to be investigating the murders not staring at the walls of the cottage. At least there hadn't been any more murders.

"Then I can leave." Elena said.

Rose gave a subtle nod and let her lips slide into a smile. Elena grabbed up the skirt of her rose coloured dress and did her best not to sprint from the kitchen. She pushed her feet into her boots and pulled on her thick coat she knew would be essential in the snow that remained on the ground outside due to the additional downfall over the past week. The front door slammed shut behind her and she breathed in the fresh cold air.

She turned the moment the door closed a second time to find Damon. She huffed with impatience, turned back to gaze out at the clearing.

He moved to her side.

"This shadow act," she turned to look up at him. "It's getting old."

Damon chuckled. "Then stop getting yourself caught in dangerous situations."

"And by that you mean stay inside."

"At least until me and my brother take care of the wolves."

Elena huffed and set off. "That is exactly the reason I cannot stay inside, your thirst for the wolves blood."

"I don't thirst-

Abruptly, she stopped and spun back around. "No? Then why can't you even consider it might not be the wolves doing this?"

"Because my instinct knows it to be true,"

"Your instinct?" she exclaimed. "That is what you base this on, your instinct?"

"I'm a hunter," he said as if it was simple.

"You're also a human being," she shot back. "Have some compassion, consideration."

"For murderers,"

"You don't know that they are."

"You don't know that they aren't."

Giving up, she turned and marched off, this time in a more forceful pace. It took Damon mere moments to catch up with her.

"You're going to follow me?"

"Considering what happened on your prior trip through the forest, yes."

Elena turned to see the killer smile appear on his pale pink rose petal lips. "I'm not a child." She said once tearing her eyes up to meet his.

"This isn't about whether you're a child or not, this is about survival."

"No, this is about everyone acting like I'm a fire that's about to start."

"What?"

"Don't pretend to not notice."

"I'm not pretending."

Lightly, she muttered, "You're always pretending."

That forced him into silence, leaving their steps through the snow the only thing audible. Elena wondered to herself what his intentions were, other than to hunt. Did he have any? He was a man, after all, it was never just business with them, especially not when there was two women living in the house he was lodging at. At least when one of them was more than willing to have him take her. And that 'her' wasn't her. Not ever. She wondered if anything had happened between Damon and Katherine, if they'd kissed, if her older sister had taken him into her bed already. Was he a good kisser? Elena glanced at his lips and decided; probably.

She snapped herself out of it, chastising and forcing her eyes to find the snow on the ground.

She approached the spot of the first murder with a tense body. It had caused her death the last time and if not for her powers she wouldn't be visiting a second time. No-one, not even her, understood the lengths or limitations of her powers. Maybe she only got one resurrection from the dead, maybe she was ultimately playing with fire by coming back. Was she the person everyone thought her to be? The reckless, unstable girl who played with death, who didn't fear the apparent murderers of the village, instead interacted with them? Grieving, that's what everyone labelled it. She was grieving, they pitied her. But she wasn't grieving, not anymore. She was entitled to feel sadness, even if she had accepted the death of her parents, wasn't she? Her and Katherine handled things differently, Katherine talked about things, and she didn't. As their father used to say, 'You're a closed book, Elle, just like me,' why did that make her the odd one? She preferred to deal with things herself, that's all. Why did everyone have to talk? Why couldn't they just simply be?

"Don't be afraid." Damon told her as they slowed to a stop.

"What?"

"You're tensing."

She released her knuckles. "I…"

"The moment that sickening death feeling comes, you fight it." Damon moved ahead, turned and watched her, leaving the murder spot between them. "Every nerve in your body, every ounce of power you have; channel it. You're strong enough."

Suddenly, their differences, her dislike for him, didn't matter in the least. He was helping her, trying to keep her alive, and she could've sworn she saw worry on his features. "It caught you off guard last time, it won't again."

Elena nodded, unconvinced. Then it slammed through her, the sickness, and the death. It was worse than her memory had allowed. Both hands clutched her stomach, her body bent forward. And she felt him. His hands took her shoulders and forced her to stand straight again.

"Look at me, look at me."

She did what he insisted. The sickness failed to ease, death was poisoning her and fairly soon she would begin to bleed from a non-existent wound in her neck and die. Maybe for good this time.

"Look at me!" he insisted harder and it snapped her back to him. "I need you to focus." He grabbed her hands, placed them on his chest. "You're right here, not there, you're not the victim. You're Elena," his hands moved to each side of her head. "You're not dying today."

She concentrated on the immense blue of his eyes, how they reminded her of the clear skies of summer. Or was it the sea? What she imagined the sea looked like on a fine day? She couldn't be sure. All she did know was the mixture of fear and security they pushed her into. Somehow her hands had closed around the material of his white shirt and hung on. The overwhelming nausea resided and her breathing evened out. She blushed with ferocity once her senses returned to normal and allowed her insight to how close her body was to Damon's, and quickly released him. His surprise was obvious.

"That was fast." He observed.

Elena nodded, still partially breathless but relieved for the distance now between them.

"Then here comes the hard part." He said.

"What hard part?"

Damon smiled. "You want to know the truth? You're the only one who can access it."

"How?"

"You really have no inkling into the depth of your abilities do you?"

She made no reply. It was confirmation for Damon and he swiftly stepped aside. In offer of support, he lifted a hand, palm facing upwards, and awaited hers. With caution, she took the offer and felt the material of theirs gloves rub as his fingers closed around her hand. In a few small steps they were at the edge of the murder spot.

"Now, instead of becoming the victim, become nature, become the air…" he let go of her hand, shifted until the left side of his body could be felt against the back right side of hers. His face ducked to her ear, his breath flooded her senses. "Close your eyes," he instructed. She did. "Think of that night, think of the forest, the darkness, the chill of the air. Become that air," his fingers slid down her arm, slipped through the gaps between her fingers. A soft gasp fell from her parted lips. "You're moving through the trees, you hear something, a scream, a girl, frightened, in pain. Go to her." his body tightened to hers even more, if that was possible, and his free hand gathered the thick curls of her hair away from her neck. She was exposed, and she could care less. She was hot, she was trembling, and she'd never felt more alive. She forced herself to forget how close he was and focus on the vision she was on the verge of unlocking. "What do you see?" he said right in her ear. She clutched his hand harder.

"The girl, she's there, on the ground. Blood… so much blood in the snow."

"Is there anything else, anyone else?"

"No, no-one. There isn't anyone but her."

"Move closer."

"How?"

"Just…want it." he replied huskily. His unoccupied hand crept to her hip.

"I can't." they were like one body; she could feel him everywhere inside; under her skin, in her mind.

"You can," every part of him that could reach her pressed against her that much more. "Move closer,"

"I can't!" She tore her body from his grasp and whirled around, breathless. He was frowning at her now, all the crackling heat and seduction between them gone.

"What's wrong?"

"This is!" Elena exclaimed. Damon took a moment before stepping towards her.

"Trying to find the truth is wrong?"

"Not that."

"Then what?"

She looked away the moment he gained on her. It didn't stop him. "What?" he urged.

"It isn't right," she finally looked up at him. The blue of his eyes, the perfect frame of his face, was heart-stopping. But he knew that. He knew the effect he had, and he used it. "The closeness, the touching,"

That surprised him. "You think that was me copping a feel?" and he was angry. Elena remained silent. "Trust me, if I ever did really touch you, I'd make sure you begged for it first."

"You're disgusting."

"So it seems you've already assumed."

"You can't honestly expect me to believe you weren't-

"What?" He bellowed back. "Revelling in the feel of you? Don't flatter yourself, darling. I was anchoring you."

"What?"

"I was keeping you here in this time while your mind went back. You have to stay connected, or god knows where you'd end up." He sneered.

"I didn't-

"Oh, you didn't know? Of course you didn't, you're like a young child learning how to walk and talk, even though you've had your abilities since you were born."

He was lashing out at her, and she couldn't blame him for it.

"Why don't I just get my brother, I'm sure you'd have no problem accepting his help." And with that, he turned and stalked off. She was left in the cold silence with a profound knot in her stomach and a lump obstructing her throat. She felt hurt, embarrassed. Guilty more than anything.

"I assume you and Damon had some sort of disagreement." Stefan casually commented.

Elena bit down on her bottom lip. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, I don't recall him being in a fouler mood than the one he returned to the cottage in, ordering me to 'deal with you'."

"Oh," she said unhappily.

"So, what happened?"

She took a much needed breath. "He was anchoring me… and I…"

"Assumed he was inappropriately trying to touch you," Stefan finished with amusement in his voice.

Elena chuckled softly. "Yes."

"It happens."

"It does?"

"Of course." he answered lightly. "There has to be a certain amount of intensity, a connection. You have to be aware of here, and there. It's rather complex. But it has to be charged, it's probably the reason he didn't warn you of what he was going to do beforehand."

"Then I should have let him continue." Elena dropped her gaze to the ground.

Stefan laid a hand on her shoulder. "You weren't to know."

"I made him angry, again."

Stefan shrugged and took his hand away once it had provided her with a comforting squeeze. "He'll get over it." the small smile he gave her somehow created one on her own lips. Then he held out a hand for her. "Are you ready to give this a try?"

Elena nodded a 'yes', took his hand and leveraged herself up off the large rock she'd sat on and waited in hope for Stefan's arrival. Of course he hadn't disappointed her. Within ten minutes he had come.

"I should warn you, I've never done this before."

She bit down on her lip again as he shifted behind her. "But Damon has?"

"Well, he had a lot of witch… friends back home."

"He courted them."

She felt Stefan's laugh close to her ear. "I wouldn't call it courting."

"Oh."

That was surprise in her voice. It shouldn't be there, nor the disappointment. Everything was muddled. She barely knew him, yet she knew what type of man he was, he'd shown her over the last few weeks. But somehow, she still felt an unfortunate surge of surprise when it was proved that he was in fact that man; the man who bedded any woman who took his fancy, who left them in the morning, who broke hearts. She, herself, had no experience with men, especially not ones like that. But she'd heard the ramblings of her sister, of her friends, and now it seemed she'd met one. So then why did she constantly doubt that conclusion? Maybe she needed space, to stay away until she could set in stone what her opinion of him was. Besides, he was partially involved with Katherine. That should surely keep him occupied.

Stefan's fingers entwined with hers, the same way Damon's had, but with a very different effect.

Then he murmured softly; "Close your eyes."

She closed her eyes and felt their bodies connect. His other hand went to her upper-arm. "Now I want you to go back, back to the night, think of the girl, you knew her."

Elena gave a nod.

"Don't become her," he warned. "Go back to the place Damon took you."

Go back to the place Damon took you.

Nothing.

She tried again, and still there was nothing. "It's not working."

"It's not working?" Damon scoffed indignantly whilst keeping his eyes down on the embers of the fire burning in his room fireplace. His right arm rested over his head and against the cottage's wall.

"No, it's not working." Stefan confirmed with thinning patience.

Damon craned his neck to look back at his younger brother. "And what do you expect me to do about that?"

"It worked with you, you made her see."

"Yes, and I vaguely recall her telling me she didn't want my help."

"Put aside your wounded pride, brother." Stefan ordered. Damon's eyebrows lifted in surprise and he turned around completely and threw a mock of; "Is someone becoming a man?"

Ignoring the comment, Stefan took a step forward. "We were called here to fix this, so whatever childish conflict you have in regards to Elena, you put it aside. She can find out what really happened, but she needs you to help her get there."

"So why doesn't she ask me?" he discarded of the words like a bitter taste.

"She wanted to. But I told her it was best I come to you."

Damon gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes then ultimately gave in. "Fine. Where is she?"

"In her room," Stefan provided with a smile.

"Then I will go and tell her," he moved around Stefan and found his brother moving with him. Damon stopped him. "Alone."

Stefan frowned but Damon had already slipped out the door and strode down the narrow corridor before he could open his mouth. He crossed the living room, skirting around the furniture as he went then knocked at Elena's door.

"Yes?" he heard her call out from inside.

"It's me-

He coughed then tried again. "Damon, its Damon,"

There was a scurry of footsteps and the door was pulled open. Her hair was loose, falling down around her shoulders, her eyes showed fatigue yet surprise and her dress was creased slightly from where she'd obviously been sitting. All he could think was… beautiful.

He had, on numerous occasions wondered why she wasn't promised, why she wasn't already married. Was it her? Did she reject all men? Did she refuse to pick a husband? Or was there someone already lined up for her, and now she was just simply… waiting? Or had she had a change of heart because of her parent's death?

"Are you all right?"

The question snapped him from his inappropriate staring at her. "Can I come in?"

He saw her hesitate. Yet she stepped aside and let him through then closed the door, shielding them from the rest of the house. He stopped in the middle of the room, swerved on his heel to face her while keeping his hands clasped behind his back.

"Stefan came to see me," He informed and her head nodded with understanding. She was biting her lip, he had to wonder why. "I'll help you."

She didn't look relieved, just sad. He was worried about her, he thought about her, wondered what she felt, what she thought, which was very… aggravating. He couldn't afford to get involved like that; he certainly couldn't become interested in her.

"Then we'll try again tomorrow." He went for the door, purposely avoiding close contact with her as he did. He was stopped short by the soft call of his name coming from her mouth. It was a wonderful sound.

He kept his back to her, his hand on the doorknob. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry, about this morning. I made an assumption, a bad one, and it was wrong of me."

"Yes, it was."

There was a pause. "I'm sorry."

"It's forgotten."

"Then we can be friends?"

"Friends," he chuckled very softly and turned to finally look at her. She was smiling with him.

"What?" she asked.

"We can't be friends."

Her face gave away her disappointment, her hurt. She looked down at the floor, shifted on her feet then lifted her gaze once again. "Why not?"

"You don't even like me."

"I could."

Damon shook his head.

"Is it because of Katherine?"

He looked at her with bafflement. "Katherine?"

"You're together aren't you? You share a bed," she blushed ferociously. He couldn't prevent the small lift of his mouth into a half smile. He took a few steps towards her.

"We have sex." He corrected. Her blush was even harder, as was her swallow.

"Then it would be a problem for her if we were friends?" She tripped over her words.

He reached out, slid his fingertips along her cheekbone and relished in the soft gasp she let out of her now parted lips. Her eyes were closed; all he would have to do is lean down… and kiss her. It's what he wanted to do, what he'd wanted to do since he'd set eyes on her. But what he wanted, and what was right wasn't the same thing. If he kissed her right now, he'd want more, need more. He would have to have it all. He would have to pull her out of that dress, lay her on the bed and show her exactly how good sex can be. But he couldn't court her, couldn't become her husband. She deserved more than him leaving her in the morning and having to tell her how it meant nothing while it would mean everything to her. Women's first times usually did. And she was definitely one of those women. Katherine, on the other hand, sex was meaningless to her. From what he'd heard, she'd welcomed almost the whole village of men to her bed. How could they look so alike but be so different on the inside?

Then, she did something he never would've expected. She covered his hand with hers as it cupped her face. The contact caused a tingle that began at the tips of his fingers and ran up his arm, across his chest and enveloped his heart. Witchcraft. She'd just made a connection with him. Unintentionally, he assumed. He remembered being told of the connections witches made with people, how important they were.

Quickly he retrieved his hand. He was the last person she wanted to make a connection with. And now he was forced to see that look of hurt and disappointment return to her perfect features. She'd thank him one day.

"I'll see you in the morning."

And he left.

The bitter cold stabbed at her bare skin. The snow surrounded her bare feet as she wandered further into the forest. Flames burned in the distance. A cluster, it was a cluster of flames, all moving together. Moving towards her, coming for her. Panic shot through her, and she turned to run, but found she couldn't. She was stuck, frozen to the ground. A frightened whimper escaped her. Then there was a chuckle. She recognized it.

Elena woke. She stared at the darkness of her room for a few moments before dragging herself up into a sitting position with a tired sigh. Constant dreams, they haunted her every night now. She ran a hand across her forehead to find sweat there. Why was it always in the forest? She hadn't once dreamt such vivid dreams, not until… she looked down. The necklace. She took it into her hand, felt its strange warmth even though there was a chill in the room. Had it caused her mother to have such dreams? Was it normal? She could ask her grandmother, or Damon. No, not Damon, not after the rejection he knocked her back with in regards to her offer of friendship the night before. She cringed at the memory. Friends? Why had she wanted them to be friends? She must've been out of her mind. Fortunately for her, he'd turned her down.

She huffed, shook her head and slid out of bed. What was going on with her lately? A sigh followed her long huff as she padded to the bathroom. Drained, she looked. Overly exhausted, her skin had paled, yet it shone with sweat from the extreme overheating of her body due to the troubling dreams. Each one seemed to grow in its attack against her. Her understanding of it was non-existent. She wanted, no she needed answers, and the person she most needed them from was her mother. She would understand all this, she would help her. Why couldn't she be here to help her? As grief threatened to overwhelm her for what felt like the thousandth time this year, she shook her head, effectively ridding herself of the thought. She splashed water upon her face, dabbed it dry then ventured back to her bedroom.

Half an hour passed and she was ready. Her face painted and her hair lifted up from its usual cascade down her back and shoulders. She wore a dress of dark green shade silk. Its long sleeves and thick layers of skirt designed for warmth. She lifted them with one hand and left her room, the clicking of her boots sounding as she did.

After querying of Damon's whereabouts with her Grandmother, Elena stood outside the guestroom that was currently his, and gave a small knock on the door.

"Coming," he informed from the other side.

Elena's stomach flipped. But it was nothing compared to the reaction she had to the sight that shortly followed. Damon wore no shirt, but thankfully, had bothered to pull on trousers. The suspenders hung down at his hips and his hair had a slight messiness. Primarily, he looked surprised to see her. With quick hunters' reflexes, he reined it in and forced out his usual casual demeanour. His hand went up to hold the door, his muscles flexing in his naked torso along the way. Something caught her attention more than the perfect condition his body was in. Scars.

Three long, thick, jagged scars that began on his right shoulder and dragged down to just above the curve of his peck. She held in a gasp and only a shuddered breath escaped. Noticing, Damon placed a hand to cover it.

Elena quickly returned her gaze to his face. "I…" She wanted to apologize for staring, ask how he'd got such extreme scars, but he soon prevented anything of the sort leaving her mouth.

"Did you want something?" he asked quite roughly.

"I- yes." she swallowed. "You confirmed last night that you would help me."

"I did."

"Then shall we go?"

"You wish to go now?" He seemed annoyed with her, as if simply interacting with her was a burden. Why had he agreed to help if he disliked the idea of it? Still, Elena stood her ground.

"Yes, now."

"As ever, your wish is my command." Sarcasm and resentment dripped from each word.

Biting her tongue, Elena nodded then walked off. The click of his door closing sounded and she finally let out a breath of frustration. They could certainly never be friends. She concluded.

Fifteen minutes later Damon joined Elena on the front porch of the cottage.

"Do you enjoy keeping me waiting?" she asked, attempting to stay pleasant while inside she wanted to scream at him for being so frustrating, for being unnecessarily rude to her this morning.

"Your sister kept my occupied." He returned with a casual shrug while pulling on his gloves. The smirk he wore told her everything about what he meant be 'occupied'.

Elena scoffed in disgust before turning and stalking off the porch. Damon caught up to her in no time. He stopped her with a soft grasp to her arm and let go when she snatched it back. "It's better that we take my horse."

She frowned. "Why? It is only a short walk."

"Trust me?" This time he offered his hand out to her. Elena looked down at it, her brow still profoundly creased. Then softly, she replied; "Never,"

Her hand went into his and he quickly enveloped it. He turned and led her to the place where both his and Stefan's horses were tied up by their reins. Although both horses had been blessed with coats, Elena still felt sorrow for them being out in this cold. Damon released her hand and went to working on removing the coat and attaching the saddle. Elena approached the horses' head. She reached a hand up to stroke its neck. Its black fur shone almost majestically.

"Hello there," she said softly. "You are very beautiful."

A few more caresses of the immaculate fur of its head before she noticed Damon's eyes fixated on her. The look was almost wonder-filled.

"You like horses," he stated.

"Yes, I love them." She confirmed before turning back to the horse. "My papa, he used to have one, he would take me riding every chance he got."

"You can ride alone?"

"Very well." She gave a smile.

"And you enjoy it?"

"Well, I did. I haven't ridden for years, not since she died."

"When was that?"

"I was sixteen."

Damon looked saddened. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright, it's been a while."

A few moments went by in silence, then Damon abruptly said; "You're lovely when you talk about things you enjoy."

Elena almost gasped in surprise but it never made it out. Why did he do that? Change so suddenly. It was unnerving, confusing. She hadn't even realised they were caught in some sort of intense gaze at one another. She blushed fiercely.

"You can't do that." She told him.

"What?"

"Be nice after being so cold only half an hour ago."

"I wasn't cold." He argued, stepping back after finishing fixing on the saddle.

"Yes, you were."

He blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. "You caught me off guard."

"And that's your reason for treating me so indifferently?"

"I was just-

"Occupied with Katherine." She finished with distaste in her mouth.

Damon chuckled then groaned through ground teeth. "You are unbearably frustrating."

"I'm frustrating? I'm not the one who changes my personality every five minutes!"

"That's a tad over-exaggerating."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it is not." She persisted harder. Before he could argue back, she took a large step forward, putting only a few inches between them, then added in a lowered voice; "Last night, you told me we couldn't be friends, then you touched me, like- like I've never been touched before, then this morning you treat me like I'm nothing but a nuisance and now you're talking to me about horses and telling me how lovely I am when I talk about things I enjoy, and you're looking at me."

"I'm looking at you?"

"Yes! You're looking at me."

"So what do you suppose I do? Not look at you at all?"

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" he almost shouted.

She bit her tongue, set her jaw and didn't allow her next few words to escape. "Never-mind," she stepped away. "Let's just get this over with."

"Fine," he said gruffly. He climbed onto the horse then helped her up to take her place behind him. Like his, her legs rested on each side of the horse. Their bodies were tightly fitted against each other.

He told her to put her arms around him and she did, much to her resentment. To begin with, it forced her to feel the hard, attractive outlines of the muscles in his torso under her fingertips even through his shirt and jacket. He rode them through the forest, winding between the tall, thick trees. The horses' feet galloped against the ground hidden beneath the snow and Elena couldn't resist closing her eyes and relishing in the sound. This was how she would ride, fast and free. Too soon they arrived at the first murder. Damon climbed from the horse then chivalrously aided Elena in doing the same. His hands lingered on her then fell away.

"Shall we begin?"

AN: I know I promised this would be soon after this last chapter but I got bombarded with assessments and essays and tests in university so I literally couldnt find any time to finish this off. BUT THANK GOD I've broken up for christmas so I will try my best to write as much as I can. AND THOTO, I'm really trying with it, it's just really hard to finish and I dont even know why. Again, I'll try to get that last chapter out in these 3 weeks. ANYWAY I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I've started the next one, and it may have a little jump forward, I'm not really sure yet. xoxo