Bonnie's head was pounding. Releasing a small groan, she forced her eyes open a crack, trying to look around at her surroundings. From what she could feel, the ground she was lying on was cold and damp, and the air was icy. She was outside.

"Hello?" she called, her voice crackling with lack of usage, squirming a bit with discomfort. She didn't appear to be restrained, which was a relief. But she knew she was far from safe. Finally getting her eyes open wide enough to see, she realized she was sitting in the middle of a clearing. The moon was shining down, filtering through the filmy clouds in the sky, turning everything an eerie blue color. She also wasn't alone.

"So, the witch finally wakes…"

Jumping, Bonnie's head whipped around, expecting Damon Salvatore to be lurking directly behind her, ready to pounce and do her in. But he wasn't. He was sitting a few feet away from her on the grass, a flask in one hand, his eyes hooded with drunkenness and his hair a mess from running. He looked like hell, basically, and a part of her felt bad for him. The problem was she couldn't remember anything that had happened after he dragged her away from the Grill. Was this his doing? Or was it something to do with the pounding in her head? Either way, the vampire across from her was somehow guilty.

"What did you do to me? Where are we?" she asked, fidgeting with nervousness as his eyes turned to her.

"We're in the middle of the woods," Damon stated as though it should be obvious, "and your ancestor pissed me off, so I tossed you into a wall." He snickered at that, a cruel, uncaring smirk curling his lips. "I think the question you should be asking, Witchy," he waggled a long finger at her, "is when I'm going to kill you…"

Bonnie swallowed roughly at his words, moving backward a bit and wincing when she did so. "What do you mean, my ancestor pissed you off? What did Emily do?"

"She lied. About what isn't important," Damon muttered with his eyes void of emotion as he took another swig of what smelled like extremely strong bourbon from his flask.

"Well why did you feel the need to toss me into a wall over something Emily lied to you about? I'm not Emily!" Bonnie cried, clenching her fists with irritation and Damon scoffed, turning his drunken face back to her.

"Yes you are," he slurred, getting to his feet and staggering slightly. "Let me tell you something, Bonnie; all witches are the same. Endless promises and witchy hoo-ha, and then they never follow through. They're fickle bitches, and you should be thanking me for preventing you from becoming one."

Bonnie scowled, struggling to her feet, her aching legs trembling slightly, doing her best to stand tall in front of the insufferable asshole in front of her. "You know nothing about witches, or their motives! If Emily lied to you, then she had good reason! It's vampires who can't be trusted! Vampires rip, tear, and kill to selfishly get what they want and, if they don't, they kill some more, just for the hell of it. How is your race any better than mine?"

"At least we're honest about everything," Damon said, a sound that was almost a giggle passing through his lips. "If I'm gonna kill you, I'll tell you; I won't cover it up with spells and empty promises. Because that's what witches do, isn't it? They lie to get what they want…"

"Witches don't lie," Bonnie said with her eyes narrowed. "If we were liars, we would have been wiped out centuries ago. Nothing good ever comes from lying."

"Oh, I know that," Damon said, taking a step closer. "Emily's about to find that out for herself."

Bonnie instinctively took a step backward, her survival instincts kicking in. "Killing me won't hurt Emily. She doesn't care about me."

"She doesn't, does she?" Damon asked, hiking an eyebrow as he stepped closer again. "Then why did she make me promise to protect the Bennett witches back in 1864? That sounds like she cares…"

"She only cares about the bloodline continuing! The power! What's the point in killing me when there are others scattered across the country?"

"I'll kill them, too," Damon said, shrugging as he blurred forward and dropped his flask, grabbing Bonnie's neck. She gasped and squirmed, her eyes wild with panic.

"You can't… kill me…!"

"Why not? What in hell in stopping me?" Damon growled, tightening his grip.

Bonnie gasped and spluttered for breath for a moment before finally wheezing out, "Elena…!"

Damon scowled at the mention of the name, but he loosened his grip slightly, interested in seeing how the witch planned to talk her way out of this one. "I don't give a shit about Elena, and Elena doesn't give a shit about me! I have the champagne on my shirt to prove it."

Bonnie wiggled in his grip and tried to shake her head, gasping in a deep breath when Damon dropped her to the ground and glared down at her. Coughing, she muttered, "She likes you… She really likes you… She's told me…"

"Well, she doesn't anymore," Damon sneered, picking up his flask again.

"Why not?" Bonnie asked, coughing again, and Damon paused the flask at his lips, rehashing their words from earlier that night at the party.

"I love her, Elena…"

"Go to hell, Damon!"

"Because I broke her heart," he said with his voice a bit softer as he shrugged, seemingly brushing it off, swigging from the flask. "Not that it matters, anyway; she'll move on. She'll probably get back with that Mutt guy or something…"

"Matt," Bonnie corrected, shaking her head, "and why would you break her heart? Are you really that self-destructive?"

"I was in love with someone else," Damon said through clenched teeth, his eyes hardening again as they snapped back to Bonnie. "No more questions. Elena doesn't matter. The other girl doesn't matter. You don't matter. Nothing matters."

"So you're just going to kill me?" Bonnie asked and glared with her arms crossed over her chest. Sneering, Damon grabbed his jacket and shrugged it on, shaking his head.

"No. You've taken all the fun out of it."

"How have I…?" Bonnie started to ask, almost offended at his words, and she jumped when he was suddenly directly in front of her, his eyes shifting as they gazed deeply into hers.

"Go home. Forget any of this happened. You got super drunk at the Grill and got lost after you left."

Bonnie nodded vacantly and Damon flipped open his flask again, biting into his wrist and drizzling a trail of his blood into it before forcing it into her mouth. If she was going to pass herself off as drunk, she might as well make it believable. Not to mention, she wouldn't be able to explain most of the crazy injuries she'd obtained when he tossed her around.

… . … . … . … . … . … . …

"Hey. Where were you last night? I tried to call you, but you didn't answer…"

"Oh, God; don't go there. I got so drunk at the Grill last night… I got lost on my way home. My head is killing me…"

Elena raised an eyebrow at Bonnie's strange response, switching the ear that her phone was pressed to as she riffled through one of the cabinets in search of a decent breakfast cereal. "That doesn't sound like you… Is everything okay?"

"Fine, I guess. I don't even remember why I went, to be honest."

Guilt seeped into Elena's stomach as she placed the box of Frosted Flakes on the counter and moved to lean against it, giving Bonnie all of her attention. She hadn't been a good friend lately. She hadn't been a good friend since she'd met Damon Salvatore. She didn't even know where Bonnie had been the past few weeks. "I haven't seen you in ages. Why haven't you been at school?"

"I've been… helping my Grams. She's old; crazy old lady. She needs someone to look after her, and my dad is always too busy…"

"But you're home now," Elena said, her voice slightly hopeful. She wanted Bonnie to come back to classes. Caroline was just so… Caroline. One could only handle her in small doses, and Elena needed a real best friend. She needed Bonnie.

"Yeah. I can't miss too much Algebra, now can I?"

"Oh, God," Elena groaned, shaking her head at the mention of the impossible math subject. "I am failing so badly! Ms. Emm couldn't teach to save her life!" A slightly playful pout found its way to Elena's lips, and she almost laughed. "I need you…"

"Well, don't worry. Your math tutor will be back in action on Monday, as soon as her hangover is gone."

Elena gave a genuine laugh at that, shaking her head. "Okay. Get some sleep, and keep the curtains closed. Don't want any migraines, now do we?"

Bonnie laughed on the other end, and Elena felt herself swell with relief. "Yeah, you're right. I'll see you on Monday."

The girls said their goodbyes, and Elena frowned when she hung up. She had heard the front door open, and couldn't help feeling a bit nervous; Jenna was supposed to be at the library all day, and Jeremy had left at the crack of dawn to go God knows where with his "friends"…

She jumped when she turned around and came face to face with Stefan Salvatore, the usual, easy going attitude he put on around Caroline nowhere in sight.

"Has Damon been here?" he asked her, and Elena scowled at the mention of his brother's name, crossing her arms over her chest, her voice cold and quipped.

"No, he hasn't. I'd appreciate it if he kept the trend and stayed the hell away from me, forever."

Stefan brushed past her and glanced untrustingly out the window, and Elena's scowl deepened. "Just what gives you the right to barge into my house, uninvited, and…" She trailed off, confusion obvious on her face. "Wait… I didn't invite you in. How in hell are you even in here?"

"Caroline dragged me here a few weeks ago looking for you and Jenna invited us in while she went to see if you were upstairs. Instant access."

"Whatever," Elena said, shaking her head. "That still doesn't give you the right to barge into my house whenever you please."

Stefan frowned, his eyes sincere. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to check on you. If Damon had gotten to you, there's no telling what he might have done…"

"Well, he didn't," Elena said, exiting the kitchen and pointing toward the exit. "There's the door. Next time, try knocking."

Unlike his older brother, who Elena knew all too well would have pressed her with some kind of witty remark about why she was in such a feisty mood, Stefan simply nodded. "I will," he said quietly, exiting without bothering her any further. Whether or not Elena admitted it, she was glad he hadn't nagged at her for answers. The last thing she wanted to talk about at the moment was Damon Salvatore. Especially with his brother.

… . … . … . … . … . … . … . …

"You're back."

Zack Salvatore blinked with disbelief when Damon swaggered through the door, alone, and walking straight past him toward the stairs.

"Yes, I am," Damon said, not pausing to look at the dimwitted human behind him. "If I were you, I wouldn't test me right now; I'm in the mood to kill someone, and family really doesn't matter to me."

Zack's eyes narrowed as he trailed along up the stairs after Damon, following him into his room and watching him pack. "Where is she?"

"Where is who?" Damon asked, still not acknowledging him with his eyes as he tossed various shirts into his leather-bound suitcase.

"Don't be an idiot with me," Zack said, his usual scowl returning. "Katherine."

"I see Stefan didn't fail to pass on the town gossip to you, now did he?" Damon asked, his irritation slowly growing as he finished with emptying the closet of shirts and moved on to his pants drawer.

"Yeah, he did," Zack said, taking a step forward. "How stupid are you? Do you honestly think bringing an ancient vampire back into this town is going to do anyone any good? Have you even considered what she'll do to Elena...?"

"Why does everyone keep assuming I care about Elena?" Damon asked, tossing a pair of jeans into his suitcase and slamming the drawer shut before whirling to face Zack. "I do not give a shit about Elena fucking Gilbert! I never have, and I never will. She was always just a pawn in my game, just like everyone else. A pawn in my game to winning Katherine back, which, in case you haven't put two and two together by now, I lost. So shut your goddamn mouth before I shut it for you."

Damon was standing directly in front of Zack now, his blue eyes menacing. But the young Salvatore didn't seem to care. "I think you're lying," he said slowly, risking it. "I think that you're confused, Damon. You're confused because, after vowing over one hundred years ago that you would only ever love Katherine, you started to fall in love with someone else. Someone who treated you better than she did, someone who cared about you, someone who wanted you to be good. Someone who actually made you want to be good. You care about Elena, Damon; maybe more than you even think you care about Katherine. Those feelings you have for her now are going to haunt you for the rest of your life, because you'll have to go on living knowing that you gave up something that could have possibly been the best moments of your life."

Damon stood, silent, in front of Zack. He stood there for a solid five minutes before he finally spoke, his voice cracking slightly. "You think she's made me a better person, Zack?"

Zack hesitated before nodding slowly. "I think she could…"

"Well, guess what…" Damon said with his voice startlingly quiet. Before Zack could blink, Damon reached up and snapped his neck, watching him fall, dead, to his bedroom floor.

"I'm not."

… . … . … . … . … . …

Stefan heaved an exasperated sigh as he walked up the steps of the boarding house. He had gone home after dropping Caroline off at her house, assuring the obviously upset girl that everything with Elena and Damon would be fine; he'd handle it. He'd been the perfect gentleman, and then spent the rest of the night doing dirty work, trying to find his brother and stop him from making the biggest mistake in history. Of course, with his luck, he'd found nothing. His last stop had been Elena Gilbert's house. Chances of Damon showing up there had been slim, and he'd come up short, merely having his etiquette insulted by her. Now, all he wanted was to write about this devastating evening in his journal, and go the hell to bed.

"Zack?" he called when he entered the cavernous house, his voice echoing off the walls. No one responded to his call, and his brow furrowed. There was no way the man could still be sleeping. He was up at the crack of dawn every day, making sure everything in this place was in order.

He hadn't even left a note; Stefan came to find this when he checked in the kitchen, having assumed that perhaps his nephew had gone out for the morning. That didn't make sense, though; Zack had said he was going to stick around all day in case…

"Oh, no…" Stefan said, swallowing roughly.

In case Damon and Katherine came back.

Blurring up the stairs, Stefan began darting in and out of rooms in search of any sign of life, and he gasped with horror when he flashed into his brother's room. "Zack…" he groaned miserably, falling to his knees beside the man's limp body. Upon closer examination, he came to the conclusion that his neck had been broken.

"I'm sorry…" he choked, pulling his head into his lap as regretful tears flooded his eyes. "I failed you. I promised I would stop Damon, keep your town safe… and now he's out of control. This is my fault…"

Zack Salvatore didn't respond. Never again would he respond to the brooding muses of the youngest brother.

… . … . … . … . … . … . …

Having nothing better to do with her miserable, lonely Saturday, Elena decided to follow through and watch The Notebook. It had begun to rain outside, matching her dismal mood perfectly. She was forced to look up when she heard a knock on the door, heaving a sigh as she paused the movie. Who the hell would be at the door in whether like this? Getting to her feet, she walked out into the hall and to the entry way, tugging it open. She came face to face with a strangely dressed, rather dirty young man with curly blonde hair and green eyes.

"Afternoon, ma'am," he said, bowing politely and Elena hiked an eyebrow at the display. Who the hell was this guy?

"Uhh… hi," she stated, not daring to move any closer to him.

"I'm terribly sorry to bother you, but I got a problem. I have no sweet clue where I am."

"You're in Mystic Falls," Elena said slowly, slowly coming to the conclusion that this guy was crazy. He had a thick southern accent, and his clothes looked like he'd gotten lost on the way to some sort of convention. Heck; maybe that was exactly it. He could be one of those guys who refused to break character or something.

"Do you need to use the phone or something?" she asked, and the man gave her a look of confusion.

"The what?" he asked, and she sighed and shook her head. Goofball…

"Do you want to come inside and get someone to come and help you?"

His green eyes shining with what appeared to be gratitude the man nodded and took a step into the warm, dry house. "Much obliged, miss. I've been walking in circles for ages searchin' for someone to help me…"

"It's no problem, really," Elena said with a small laugh as she took the phone off of the charger on the table by the entrance to the living room. "It's just a pho-"

She gasped when the man suddenly grabbed her shoulders and yanked her roughly to him, his green eyes staring mesmerizingly down into hers.

"Don't scream," he said with a voice like velvet before sinking sharp fangs into Elena's neck. She made a small noise of complaint when he began feeding on her, and gasped when he was suddenly tossed off and the sound of primal snarling filled the air. Elena had to blink rapidly a few times to refocus her blurry vision, a hand clamped over her neck. Her eyes widened when she saw the shock of black hair blurring over to the crumpled vampire by the door, and it was merely seconds before the blonde had a makeshift stake driven through his heart, making Elena cry out with shock and stumble backward against the wall.

Hearing her cry out, Damon Salvatore's blue eyes locked with her brown hues, and he quickly moved to her side, moving her hand away from her neck.

"Let me see…"

He hissed with shock when her hand came in contact sharply with his cheek, snapping his head to the side. "What the hell was that for? I just saved your life!" he snapped, a taunting sense of déjà vu coming over him, reminding him of the night Elena had first discovered his secret.

"That was for letting Katherine out of the tomb, you ass!" she yelled, and Damon's scowl slipped slightly, his lips twitching with uncertainty.

"She… wasn't there," he mumbled, and the witty retort she'd had prepared fell limp on her tongue.

"What?"

"Katherine wasn't in the tomb," Damon said more clearly, stepping back and giving her space. "I went to get her out, got in… and she wasn't there. She probably never was."

Elena wasn't sure whether to be thrilled or terrified. "Oh…"

"It doesn't matter," Damon said quickly, his walls quickly flying up to mask any form of emotion about the subject. "I'm leaving town; I have no reason to be here anymore. My brother wants me gone, you want me gone. I came to say goodbye, if that makes any sense, and found this guy trying to…" Damon trailed off when his eyes fell once again on the wrinkled corpse by the door, taking a curious step forward. "Wait a second…"

Elena frowned, curiosity getting the better of her. "What?"

Damon simply shook his head and crouched down in front of the body, his eyes narrowing as he examined the features and shock of blonde hair. He could've sworn he recognized them from somewhere…

"Hey, Salvatore! Are you gonna spend all day cartin' around your little brother, or are you gonna come drink with the real men?"

"Save my seat at the tavern, Jackson; have I ever got some stories for you boys!"

"Hell yeah! Just don't tell your rotten old father; wouldn't approve, the old stiff."

"As if I care what he thinks…"

Damon flinched back as the memory flooded through his mind, his eyes widening, speaking to the dead man before him. "You were a vampire…?"

"Damon…?" Elena asked, taking a small step forward, growing extremely confused.

Slowly, realization began to dawn on Damon. He'd thrown Bonnie into a wall before she could complete the spell. He'd tossed a full bag of blood carelessly into a pit of desiccated vampires.

One of which was now sitting, dead, at his feet.

"Fuck!"

Elena jumped and stepped back when Damon quickly stood up, his eyes flashing with irritation and… worry? "What the hell is going on?" she cried, and he grabbed her jacket and tossed it at her.

"We have a problem. A big problem. As much as you hate me, I can guarantee I'm your best form of protection at the moment. So get your ass out that door and into my car. Now, Elena…"