Eternal Contemplations (18/?)

[fading_tales]

Title: Eternal Contemplations
Author: fading_tales
Pairing: Damon/Blair (Vampire Diaries/Gossip Girl cross-over)
Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Diaries, Gossip Girl or any of their characters.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Timing means nothing and everything when you have an eternity to live.
chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 ,14, 15, 16, 17


Chapter Eighteen

New York is the same as she had left it. The streets are all the same, the people are all the same. There should be some sort of comfort in coming back and picking up where she left off, but nothing feels right. She's not the same anymore. The glittering city just doesn't seem as glamorous and inviting as she had remembered. For all its shiny lights and promises of fame and glory, she knows now that it is all just empty promises. There's no happy ending for her in New York. She knows this and she didn't come back to find a fairytale. She came back to escape from one. As harsh as reality is in the Big City it's preferable to the fantasy life she was living in Mystic Falls. The sounds of the city traffic add to her worsening migraine and she reaches a hand to her forehead in an attempt to rub the pain away.

She finds herself standing in front of her own house for a good fifteen minutes, just staring at it after her taxi leaves. Nobody knows she's back yet, not even Nate. If she wants to, she could disappear right now. Take the next plane out to somewhere far away and nobody would know. It's a tempting thought. It's easy to run. She wants to. Before she can make up her mind the door before her opens and she's greeted by the surprised face of her mother on her way out to yet another social function.

"Blair? What are you doing out here?"

She doesn't answer as her mother rushes towards her and clasp her shoulders a little too tightly. Suddenly she's aware of all the aches and pain in her body.

"Where have you been? Did you know that your school has been calling me saying that you haven't been going for the past month? I had to cut my trip to Milan short to come back here and when I do, I find out that you're not even home!"

The elder Waldorf's face is graced with a scowl that ruins the effects of the expensive Botox she injects on a weekly basis.

"Do you have any idea, young lady, what you have put me through?"

Her mother continues to ramble and rant, but she doesn't hear a thing.

"I'm going to go to my room now."

Her voice is calm and quiet. Her mother instantly stops talking; her anger is replaced with worry. Eleanor Waldorf looks clearly at her daughter for the first time. She's skinnier than before. Her hair is not as perfectly combed as it usually is and her eyes looked red rimmed with dark circles underneath them. She doesn't look at all like the usually put together girl Eleanor knows.

"Blair, are you alright?"

Eleanor reaches out to touch Blair's face, but she recoils violently from the touch.

"What? Are you pretending to care now?" Blair mocks.

"Young lady! I am your mother-"

Blair laughs a humorless laugh. "I was gone for more than a month, mother. For months," Blair emphasizes the plurality of the word, hissing it. "You had no idea where I was, who I was with, what I was doing. So tell me… what exactly qualifies you to call yourself my mother?"

Eleanor flinches at her cutting words. It's as if all of her hurt and anger were suddenly pouring out of her like water from a broken sink faucet.

"So don't pretend that you care," she accuses.

Blair looks up at the approaching black stretch limo coming to a stop in front of their house. The driver comes out and walks around the car to open the door.

"Mrs. Waldorf," the driver beckons.

Eleanor looks at the waiting vehicle and then back at her daughter.

"What are you waiting for? You're going to be late for your meeting or party or whatever. Don't let me stop you."

Without another word Blair pushes past her mother and marches into the house. Eleanor is left watching the door slam shut in her face.

xxx

The next day Blair puts on her uniform, brushes her hair to perfection and stuns Eleanor when she greets her with perfect civility across from the breakfast table as if the events of the night before never occurred.

"Good morning," Eleanor replies cautiously.

Blair manages to give her a tight lipped smile as she takes a sip from her orange juice.

"Anne Archibald sent over something for you earlier this morning. It's right there for you," Eleanor gestures unnecessarily at the package sitting besides Blair's breakfast plate.

Blair smiles and thanks her mother graciously before proceeding to carefully unwrap the package that the Archibald matriarch had taken such care to send over so early this morning. She finds a telltale velvet box inside and slips it into her skirt pocket before her mother's prying eyes manages to sneak a peek.

She takes her customary single bite of toast and one grape before she excuses herself and makes her way in the direction of Constance and St. Jude's. She walks into the Constance courtyard with indifference amidst all the wide-eyed stares and whispers like she had never left. All their snide glares and hushed conversations that stop as she passes by are noted for future reference, but at the moment ignored. She has more important things to think about than petty jealousies and resentment from disgruntled subjects, like a marriage proposal.

Nate doesn't waste any time and he finds her as she makes her way towards her first period class. She was sort of dreading it, but he has on a silly smile on his face and somehow it makes her feel better.

"You're back," he states unnecessarily.

She nods, shifting the weight of her book bag before he takes it from her. It was such a familiar gesture, Nate carrying her books and walking her to class. It was easier than she thought to fall back into old routines.

"How was the trip back?"

"As good as any eight hour taxi ride could be I suppose."

"Are you tired? Maybe you should go home early today."

She's surprised by how genuine his concern actually sounds. This was the kind of attention she had always wanted from him, but he never gave. It's so ridiculous how things turned out that she laughs. Her life is such a complete utter mess that she can't help but find it funny.

His eyebrows knit in puzzlement, but he's smiling too, glad to see her laughing even though he doesn't know why. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," she manages between giggles. "I'm not tired. Besides, I've missed so much school already. My father can only sign so many checks."

They arrive in front of her history class and hover about the entrance in silence. Across the foyer she spots Chuck smoking in a corner with some new buddies. Nate follows her line of sight and notices his ex-BFF as well.

"He's still not talking to me," Nate sighs. "I tried, but I think he's been waiting for you to forgive me first before he'd forgive me."

"I see…"

"But do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Forgive me?"

"I… I don't hate you."

It's not exactly what Nate wanted to hear, but it's a start.

Chuck notices her watching him and pauses, cigarette in mid air. He and Nate lock eyes for a brief moment before he returns his gaze on her. A breeze blows by and she reaches up with her left hand to brush a strand of hair of her face. Chuck takes a long drag out of his cigarette and blows a perfect circle of smoke in her direction before looking away. She instantly freezes, her fingers still caught in her hair. She tries to subtly shove her hand into her pockets, but it's too late. Astronauts could probably spot the thing from space, that's how big and sparkly the damn diamond was. She was careless.

"You're wearing my ring," Nate points out.

She looks down at the big shiny diamond on her left hand. It glints prettily in the morning sunshine. She was stupid for having forgotten to take it off when she had tried it on earlier in the confines of the ladies' room. She just wanted to see how it would look like on. It was heavier than she had remembered it to be, the diamond akin to lead on her finger. She would have taken it off, but girls had started piling into the room, so she merely shoved her hands into her pockets and made her way out.

"Blair?"

She's shaken from the trance induced by the twinkling of the diamond ring and snaps her attention back to Nate.

"Yes. I'm wearing your ring," Blair answers belatedly.

"Does that mean…" Nate prods hopefully.

What does it mean? She's not sure herself. She can feel the curious stares in her direction. It's been awhile since the school got their dose of Golden Couple drama and they're all itching for something juicy. As little as she cares for her idiotic, mindless peers, she understands the power behind leading such sheep, stupid as they may be. All the same anxiety, insecurity and ambition she's ever had comes pouring back.

"Blair?"

Why is it that she can't answer him? Nate wants to marry her. Nate Archibald wants to marry her. What does she have left to lose? Nothing. What does she have left to gain? Everything. The decision should be an easy one and yet she finds it difficult to find an answer that doesn't make her want to empty the contents of her stomach.

"Yes."

It's been awhile since she played the part of a queen, but it's about time she reclaimed her throne. Blair Waldorf was never meant to live a life on the sidelines, she was always meant to be up there shining in the spotlight with the rest of New York royalty. It's where she belongs. It's all she knows.

"Yes?"

"It means yes," she says, this time more confidently. "I'll marry you, Archibald."

His smile shines brighter than the sunlight reflecting off the white cobblestones in the courtyard and it's blinding.

xxx

She gets through the rest of her school day on autopilot, relying on muscle memory to remember how to walk, where to sit on the steps, who to snub. She catches Chuck in the middle of yet another smoking session after lunch and finds her feet taking her towards his direction. She stops in front of him and he blows smoke into her face.

"Back with Nate I see. So what? Now everything goes back to the way it was?"

She snatches away his cigarette and crushes underneath the heel of her foot.

"Yes. And I would appreciate it if you would play along."

"What happened to Salvatore?"

Chuck notices how her features freeze for a second from the mention of his name before she regains control.

"I no longer care to speak or hear the name Salvatore, so please refrain from mentioning him in my presence."

"I told you he was bad news."

"You also told me Nate was a good guy," she throws back.

"You're back with him now aren't you?" he replies, reaching for another cigarette in his jacket.

She crushes that one underneath her foot too.

"Hey! That was my last one, Waldorf!"

"You're going to kill yourself at the rate you're smoking those things."

"We aren't friend anymore, what do you care?" he sneers.

"I need you," she says simply.

He wants to retort with something lecherous or sleazy, but her stern expression stops him.

"I need you to talk with Nate again. I need you two to be okay so that we can be okay. I need things to go back to normal. I need you to help convince me that this isn't all a mistake."

Her voice has a tinge of desperation in it that gives him pause.

"I need you to be my friend because I have no one and I need someone, even if it's you."

She scrunches her nose at the end, but it's a familiar gesture and it's the first time she has felt like herself since she got back.

"Besides, I think you've been hanging out with the lower class long enough. You're starting to almost look like one of them. Before you know it you'll be slumming it in Brooklyn like that Dan Humphrey kid."

"You're really selling me there with those flattering words, Waldorf."

Even though he says it in a sarcastic tone, she knows he's already agreed. He despises the company of the shallow minded scumbags that hang around him because of Bart's money. The bottom feeders of the Upper East Side's excess and exuberance that latches onto those higher ranked than them hoping to be thrown some scraps of fame and glory. They make for good underlings, but horrible friends.

He misses the company of Blair's sharp tongue, Nate's easy-going nature and Serena's endless potential for amusement. He misses the companionship of their little Breakfast Club as cliché as that may sound. Aside from his father, he cares about no one else. Contrary to popular belief Chuck Bass does have a heart. It's just that he only has room for a fixed quota. Sometimes he himself forgets that so Blair has to remind him. Despite the indifferent front he puts on, he's the one who had been waiting for her forgiveness and he'd take whatever lifeline she'd throw him.

"Chuck, I need you to do this for me. Can you do it?"

"I don't know if I can be friends with him again," he answers quietly. "It wasn't just about you and him. We have our own issues."

"Well get over it," she says in the typical condescending Blair manner. "Because I am going to need my boys not to be fighting when I'm trying to reestablish my throne. Penelope is already plotting a coup as it is. The last thing I need is to deal with you and Nate's lovers quarrel."

Chuck narrows his eyes at her.

"Don't be such a girl!" She swats at his arm. "He really is sorry…" she adds softly.

"Do you actually believe that?"

"… Yeah, I do. And if it's good enough for me, then it should be for you."

By fifth period, she has both Nate and Chuck walk her to Latin. They might be missing one member, but their united front is enough. You can try and take down a Waldorf, but you can't take down a Waldorf, an Archibald and a Bass. Needless to say order is restored and minions put back in their place. By sixth period she has the mean girls groveling at her feet and crowds parting before her like Moses and the Red Sea.

On the way home from school, Nate points out to her some nice looking luxury real estate that is up for sale. He makes an offhanded comment about how nice it would be if they could move in together in a place like that after college. She had given him a forced smile in return, her thoughts tracing back about a certain big white house and a picnic on the floor, to dark hair and icy blue eyes. She shakes her head to clear her thoughts and grasps Nate's arm a little more tightly than necessary.

The girls from the steps throw her a belated birthday party (she hadn't even noticed that it had passed by). A whole year older and she doesn't feel any wiser. Nate is by her side dressed handsomely in what she picked out for him without so much as a complaint. He whispers sweet words to her throughout the evening, tells her he loves her over and over, and Chuck gives her expensive lacey lingerie with an accompanying lecherous smirk. When the cake comes out she blows out her candles knowing that none of her wishes will come true.

Five days later she sleeps with Nate for the first time in a room lit with candles, on silk sheets and rose petals like she had always wanted. Nate planned everything from the champagne bottles to the romantic music playing softly in the background. He kisses her eyelids afterwards and holds her as he falls asleep. She feels empty afterwards. Their engagement party is planned for next Saturday. In the meantime she's become the undisputed Queen B once more, fancy parties and limo rides all part of the daily routine. Life goes on oh so perfectly and she cries herself to sleep missing a place and a person that she never belonged with.

xxx

Blair's been gone for five days and he's reverted back to his old ways. Katherine constantly wears a smile that resembles that of the cat that ate the canary. She is restless and anxious to leave, but Damon stalls. He tells himself he's not waiting for Blair to come back. He's not. So what if she comes back and he wasn't there? So what if she needed to find him? It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter at all. And yet a week passes and he stays exactly where he is. But all of this is for nothing because Blair doesn't come back. He learns to tolerate cold kisses and cold caresses, even if he's getting frostbite.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?"

Stefan confronts him, pulling him down from the tabletop he was dancing on top of. Katherine is in a corner dining on a waitress. The bartender is already dead, his body getting cold where it lies on the floor. Music from the jukebox plays a melody that Damon ignores. The rhythms of his movement unsynchronized and disjointed, like a puppet pulled by broken strings.

"Hello, Stefan. Care to join us?" he smiles as he takes a swig from a bottle of whiskey, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

All around them tables and chairs lay strewn about, broken glass litters the floor. A few bar patrons are crouching in a corner, too afraid to even run. One of them soiled himself and the stench mixes with the metallic scent of blood. Stefan turns his attention to them, wipes their minds and sends them all home.

"Have you lost your mind?"

"Maybe…" Damon finishes the bottle and tosses it on the floor where it smashes into a million little sharp pieces. "Probably."

"Damon, this isn't like you," Stefan tries softly.

"Of course it's like me! This is who I am. It's who I'm supposed to be! It's you who's pretending."

"Why are you doing this?"

Damon violently shrugs off Stefan's attempt to reach him. "Get off of me. This is none of your business anyways. I'm tired of your sermons."

"It's my business when you don't keep your promises," Stefan accuses.

Damon brushes him off and goes in search for another bottle. He looks through various empty ones, ignoring the ones in bright neon pinks and blues and going for the harder stuff. His fingers clasp around the neck of a bottle of vintage wine. The beginning of a dangerous memory about ruby lips and wine glasses starts to form in his head but before it could be completed Stefan's hand on his shoulder shakes him out of his reverie.

"No! You don't get to walk away that easily," Stefan hisses, slapping the bottle in Damon's hand to the ground. "You said that you were taking Katherine away from Mystic Falls. Instead you've been going around breaking into bars, killing waitresses and busboys and I'm the one cleaning up the mess! You're drawing attention to us!"

"Who cares? It's not like the village vampire hate group can do anything about it," Damon mocks. "They can't stop us! They're nothing more than a pathetic group of scared humans with pitch forks. We're immortal! Relish it, embrace it, Stefan. It's who we are."

"Is this about Blair?"

Damon's smile instantly drops.

"Is that why you're staying here? Wreaking havoc wherever you go? You'd think that she'd come back if she hears about what a downward spiral you've fallen into? Is that it?"

"Don't talk about Blair," Damon whispers dangerously.

"What do you think you can achieve? She left and instead of chasing after her, you're throwing a temper tantrum," Stefan goads.

"I said, don't talk about her!" He punctuates his command by shoving Stefan through a window.

Katherine finally notices all the commotion and drops her dying waitress unceremoniously onto the bloodstained floor.

"What's going on here?"

Damon turns to look at her with a smile. "Nothing. Stefan was just being the usual wet blanket. Trying to ruin the mood with his philosophical ramblings and self-righteous indignation."

Stefan picks himself up from the rubble, shaking the glass shards from his sleeves.

"Damon… This isn't the way to get her back."

"Get who back?" Katherine inquires suspiciously.

"Nobody," Damon answers a little too quickly.

Katherine doesn't look quite convinced, but she doesn't push the topic.

"You got some blood on your cheek. Here let me get it for you." He leans over and licks it off, smiling smugly. She smiles back and licks her lips before pulling his head down to crash her lips against his.

"You missed a spot," Katherine whispers devilishly after kissing him thoroughly. Her toothy grin glints like light reflecting off of razor blades. Turning to Stefan she smiles smugly. "Enjoying the show? Maybe you'd care to join us."

Stefan narrows his eyes and grits his teeth, but doesn't say a word.

"Don't bother with Stefan. He'd only ruin the fun. What do you say you and I get out of here?" Damon draws Katherine's attention back by stroking his ringed hand along her jaw line, tilting her chin up for another kiss. "This place is a dump."

Katherine's face lights up. "Really? We're leaving? I was getting tired of bartenders and waitresses. Where would we go?"

"Anywhere you want."

She turns about and paces about, a finger resting against her cheek in thought. "What about the city?"

"The city? What city?" Damon asks, pulling Katherine into his arms. She draws idyllic circles on his chest with her nail. They're a little too sharp for pleasure. She draws an "X" over his heart, as if to mark her territory, before she answers him.

"What about New York?"

Katherine watches the expression on his face carefully. Stefan waits for his response as well.

Damon merely smiles a beguiling smile and answers easily, "Anything you want."

Katherine narrows her eyes, somehow not quite satisfied with his answer even though it's the one she wanted. "Well… maybe not New York. I think it's overrated. Maybe France. I'm tired of the Americas. I wonder if French people taste like French wine. What do you say? We could go to the countryside vineyards and sample some Parisians."

"I don't think that's a wise idea," Stefan injects.

Katherine rolls her eyes towards the younger Salvatore and Stefan stares right back determinately.

"You're right… Stefan's a real killjoy," Katherine drawls condescendingly. "Let's get out of here. The corpses are starting to smell."

As they are about to leave, Stefan tries one more time, catching Damon's elbow just as he's about to cross the threshold.

"Damon, we still need to talk."

Damon looks like he's about to refuse, but Stefan looks at him meaningfully and it gives him pause.

"Please."

Katherine is standing in the parking lot, her hands on her hips, one foot taping away impatiently. With hesitance, Damon turns away from his brother to face his impatient girlfriend.

"I'll meet you back at the house. Just give me a sec."

Katherine rolls her eyes, but complies. He watches as her figure blurs away into the distant horizon before turning to Stefan.

"Well? What more do you want to say?"

"Do you really think it's wise to go on an international food tour with Katherine?"

"You're the one who wants us to leave. So we're leaving. I don't get what's getting your tighty whities in a bunch now."

"Don't play dumb, Damon. What about Blair?"

"What about her?" he scoffs.

"You know that Katherine was messing with you earlier, don't you?"

"I wasn't born yesterday, Stefan."

"Well then what are you doing baiting her?"

"I'm doing no such thing. Katherine does whatever Katherine wants. It doesn't matter what I say or do about it."

"And if she wants Blair dead?"

"That's not going to happen," Damon bites out.

"So you do care."

Damon looks away, rummaging through the bar for yet another bottle, but coming up empty handed.

"You care," Stefan enthuses. "Go after her! If she means so much, then tell her!"

"It doesn't matter. She made her decision. Her life is in New York and I'm not part of it. It would never work out anyways."

"Maybe it can… if you really love her-"

Damon laughs. "Love," he drawls, "is the root of all our problems. It's not the antidote, it's the poison."

"So what? You pick the easier path. Katherine-"

"You're talking out of your ass if you think Katherine is the 'easier' path."

"You know, Damon… I know you're a lot of things, but I didn't know a coward was one of them."

"Well, we can't all be like you, Stefan."

Finally he spots a half full bottle wedge between two crates at the corner his eye and downs the contents in a single gulp. It leaves him feeling emptier.

Stefan gasps his shoulder and spins him around so they can come face to face. "Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want Blair back. Tell me that you're happier with Katherine, indulging in her bloodlust and insanity." Damon opens his mouth, but Stefan doesn't actually let him say anything. "It's not healthy! She's not good for you!"

"Look," Damon sighs exasperatedly, "Are you about done here? Because I'm running out of booze and Katherine is waiting and you know she hates waiting."

"Katherine is a manipulative, evil bitch! How many times do I have to tell you before you believe it? She compelled us!"

"No. Everyone else, but not me. I knew what I was doing. It was real!"

It has to be. He refuses to think that those hundred and fifty years were wasted. It's everything he has ever known. If his love for Katherine wasn't real, then what is? Nothing had been more real to him than Katherine. He refuses to believe it.

"Fine, maybe she didn't compel you. But that doesn't stop her from manipulating those around you. Don't you think she was a little too pleased about Blair's sudden departure?"

It's not the first time such a thought has come to his mind, but Damon refuses to acknowledge it. Nevertheless, those niggling thoughts are there. Something just didn't feel right about Nate's sudden proposal. Damon's had time to observe the young Archibald and it just wasn't in his style. Even if it was in a desperate attempt to win Blair back he couldn't have thought of such a scheme. He's just not that smart. Everything fell apart so easily, a little too neatly.

"Think about, Damon. Is Katherine really that trustworthy?"

Stefan's parting accusations haunt him no matter how deep he buries his thoughts. He tries to get Katherine to spill on what she and the blonde bobble head were talking about that night, but she's tight-lipped. She evades his questions with kisses and not so gentle caresses. He's getting nowhere and the questions consume him. In an act of desperation he goes to Bonnie for another truth spell because he thinks the witch might just hate Katherine a little bit more than she hates him. Besides, Bonnie already feelings partly responsible for Blair's deception and Damon is not above playing dirty to get what he wants. He hasn't learned his lesson the first time around.

"What do you think you're doing here? We have no business with one another anymore," the witch greets him coldly.

"I need you to do me another favor."

"And why would I do that? You think I don't know what you've been up to? What you and Katherine have been up to? This is my home, Damon. You don't go around messing with my people and then come here expecting me to do you a favor."

"It's about Blair."

"What about Blair? She's gone back home, where she's safe. This has nothing to do with her anymore."

The witch is right. Blair's safe. At least for now. The farther away she is from him and Katherine the better really. Maybe he's just being selfish.

"Never mind. I shouldn't have bothered you. I'm sorry."

He turns around, gets three steps down the porch before Bonnie's voice calls him back.

"Wait!" Bonnie calls out. "W-what did you want anyways?" The moment the words leave her lips she already regrets them, but there was a time when she could almost call him friend. Despite everything Damon has done, Blair is still counted among the few people Bonnie is sure he still cares out. It just so happens that Bonnie cares about her as well. Bonnie has always been a loyal sort.

"Those truth spells of yours… do they work on vampires?"

"… It can… why?" Bonnie questions suspiciously.

"Can you make it work on Katherine?"

"This is already starting to sound like a bad idea. And I thought you and her were thick as thieves."

"Can you?" he repeats firmly.

"Yes," Bonnie sighs. "But why?"

"The less you know the better."

"Well it's not like Katherine is any friend of mine… but are you sure you want another one?" Bonnie asks him.

"Yes." His answer is resolute.

She shakes her head disapprovingly, but sure enough by the next day he has another one of those charms in his hands.

xxx

Damon finds himself walking the entire five miles to the empty house by the lake where Katherine is currently staying in. She rushes out to kiss him just as he arrives and he fights to avoid flinching from the cold of her embrace.

"What did you say to Nate that night?" he whispers as he pulls away from their kiss.

"Ugh, are you going on about that again?" Katherine sighs exasperatedly. "Why are you obsessing? You're making me jealous of Nate Archibald."

Her words sound more threatening than it does affectionate.

"Just curious…"

"It was nothing," she emphasizes.

His hands are still around her hips and he slips the charm into her back pocket.

"Nothing at all?" he asks.

"We talked about Blair Waldorf," she blurts out.

Katherine's face takes on a look of puzzlement at her slip of tongue.

"And why would you do that?"

"Simple curiosity. I just wanted to get to know her better," Katherine answers flippantly. "Why does it matter now? She's gone."

She doesn't know why she has a peculiar urge to spill her guts, but something feels fishy. She breaks away from his embrace and marches back into the house. He follows her.

"What did he tell you?" Damon presses.

She opens her mouth with a lie posed at the tip of her tongue, but for some reason the truth comes out instead.

"All about her white picket fence dream. The plans for their impending nuptials. How he ruined it all when he cheated on her. She's such a tragic little thing isn't she? She was so in love with him."

Damon chooses to ignore her last statement.

"Did he tell you about the proposal?"

Katherine laughs. "Oh god no! He wanted her back, but he never even thought of that. That boy may be sweet on the eyes, but he's not quite the sharpest tool in the shed."

"Then… why? Was it spontaneous?"

"He asked because I compelled him to," Katherine answers simply.

"You… you compelled Nate? Why would you do that?"

"Because she was your precious little Immune and I don't like to share. Because I didn't like her. Because I just felt like it," Katherine answers dismissively.

"Do you ever care about anyone, but yourself? You had no right!"

"I don't get why you are getting upset, it's what she wanted. You weren't going to do it, so I did. I did her a favor! Besides it was the only way to get rid of her. She was being a third wheel!"

His head was spinning. Stefan was right. She compelled Nate. She's really quite capable of anything and if Stefan was right about this what else is he right about? Does that mean she had compelled him too? It doesn't seem like such a stretch anymore. Now is the time to find out. He won't have another chance again.

"Was it ever real?"

"Was what ever real?"

"You and me. You compelled Stefan, you compelled Nate… compulsion seems to be your second nature. So tell me. Did you compel me too?"

"Damon… Where is this coming from?"

"Stefan warned me," he pauses to watch her expression. "But I told him that it was real. That what I felt for you couldn't possibly be because of the compulsion. I believed that and I searched for you for the most part of a century and a half. I gave up everything for you."

She's not saying yes, but she's not saying no either.

"Was it real?" He screams at her, fangs bared and heart in his throat.

"What difference does it make? You were happy weren't you?" she replies simply, not at all affected by his sudden temper.

"Did you ever even really love me? What was I to you? Just another guy? Somebody you could manipulate? Did you ever care for me?"

Conflicting emotions race across her face, as if her brain wants to say one thing, but her tongue wants her to say another.

"Did you ever love me?" Desperation creeps into his voice despite his effort to keep it bottled in.

"No."

So there it is. The raw naked truth.

"But you were a Salvatore. Your family had a strong influence over the town and I knew about your father and his little anti-vampire business. I was supposed to kill him you know. You and Stefan were a bonus. Funny how things turned out. Stefan did the dirty deed for me. I always thought it would be you. You were always so much more obedient. Of course he did get me thrown into that hellhole, so I guess it evens things out."

"You used me."

"So I did. You weren't complaining."

"I thought I loved you. You manipulated me into loving you.*"

"It's all in the past, Damon. Like you said, we can start anew this time."

She reaches for his face, but he slaps it viciously away.

"No. We're done."

"What do you mean, 'we're done'? It's not over until I say it is!"

He walks away with him screaming his name.

Nothing ever mattered. Nothing was ever real. But it's okay because they were never in love anyways. Somewhere among the shattered pieces of all he's ever known, there's a sense of relief. He just needs to pick himself up from the ruins first.

*True Blood reference! Because I love me some good vampire tv. =)

A/N: Phew! This chapter was a long time coming. I've been so busy with school and writing boring, non-Damon/Blair stuff that I didn't really have any time to sit down and work on this fic. I can't promise that I will get more out soon, but I am trying my best. That being said, I loved the season two premiere of TVD. Believe or not but I'm actually a huge Damon/Katherine shipper for the TV series. Nina Dobrev does evil good. Until next time! Thanks for all your continued support!