Barely A Memory

Chapter 15

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"Don't pack much. We can get whatever we need on the road. If anyone manages to get in, we want to make sure that there's no sign we left." For the first time, Elena had seen Damon Salvatore completely frazzled, a side of him she never even knew that he possessed—and it was not very becoming. It looked as if he hadn't washed his hair in days; maybe he hadn't. He sure hadn't taken the time to style it at least. Damon looked oddly human as he struggled with dusty duffel bags and ancient pairs of pants that had clearly gone out of style.

"Then don't pack those shorts." Caroline scrunched her nose in disgust. "It looks like you're going to play tennis in the senior's club."

Elena chuckled a bit at her friend's comment and nodded in agreement. "I wish you were going with us, Care."

Caroline shrugged. "Someone needs to stay here for Matt, and Bonnie is coming back soon."

"How long do you think it'll be until we get back?" she asked, serious.

Damon shrugged his shoulders, throwing the hideous, white tennis shorts behind him. "As long as it takes, Elena," he replied in an exasperated tone. He rolled his eyes. "Maybe never." With that, he strode out of the room to start some other mission.

She sighed, tired of Damon's attitude, and went back to folding. The sun was just beginning to rise above the horizon, and she could tell by the heavy burn in her eyes that she needed to sleep. Or maybe she had cried a little too much that night. Both were very probable.

They all sorted through drawers for a long time until Caroline tilted her head up. "It's quiet up there," she said simply, like a parent watching over a child. "Sounds like Stefan finally fell asleep. I could hear him turning for the past hour. I wonder what kept him up." Elena's heart dropped at the memory of last night. She felt... stupid, foolish... so foolish for trying to make an advance on him after such a terrible fight. Of course she couldn't cure everything with the three words that used to settle everything between them. When they were together, when everything was perfect, when Damon was not in the picture, she would whisper "I love you" and he would know—his faith in her was pure magic. He would smile and believe her; he would fall victim to her promises of always and forever. But maybe now, even without his memories, Stefan had come to learn that that was all they were and would ever be from her: words, a meaningless jumble of letters that she had never been able to hold onto. She'd abused the dreaded, "I love you" so much that even Stefan, without a single memory of her, knew not to trust them. And she hated herself for that.

"Hey," Caroline interrupted her thoughts sympathetically, as if she'd just read them. " When he wakes up, why don't you go see him?"

Elena shook her head quickly, pushing her hair out of her face as a way to distract herself. "I can't," she said sharply, forcefully throwing a shirt into a bag. "He hates me now."

Caroline raised an eyebrow. "I highly doubt that," she chuckled. "Last I checked, he thought that you hated him. I think it's a problem in communication."

Elena bit her lip, taking a seat on the edge of Damon's bed for a split second before remembering that it all started here. She lost Stefan in the first place because of her presence on this bed... she'd moved from the right side of Stefan's bed to the left side of Damon's. She shuddered and quickly stood up. "I don't get it," she huffed. "I started to apologize for lying, and he said he understood." Caroline smiled at that, but Elena kept going. "I wanted to apologize anyways though, and so I started to tell him that I do love him, but he stopped me."

Caroline furrowed her brows. "Huh."

"I just don't know what to do." Elena exhaustedly ran her hands along her face. "I know I don't deserve it, but I can't imagine myself with anyone else."