a/n: So, this episode was very hard for me to get through, of course because of Jeremy's death. I liked the way it was written (for once), and then the end came along and I was like…'really? We're really doing this? Turning off her emotions…burning the house down?' eh…I've been moving Elena into the Boarding House in my fics for sometime now. I guess the writers finally got it. I'm still dealing with Jeremy's death but I thought that a proper way to deal with it was to lose myself in some smut. Emotionless smut no less because just like Elena I don't particularly want to feel right now either.

Damon sank to his knees, wrapping his arms around her tightly. He could command her to stop crying if he wanted to but she needed the release. What could he do to help her? What was the best way to get her through this? She was ready to burn her family home to the ground, to completely let go of her old life and to burn her brother's body right down with it. She was completely gone, lost in her pain, in her grief, in her self-despair. Her pain was going to tear her apart from the inside; a sensation he was very familiar with. He couldn't bare to know that she was going through all of that, and so he made a choice she may never forgive him for. "I can help you. I want you to let me help you." Somewhere between the desperate, chest wracking sobs she heard him and slowly pulled back from his arms. He'd never seen her look more scared, more terrified, more innocent or helpless. "I can help you."

He caressed her face, wanting her to calm down, wanting her to stop feeling the pain. He could almost feel it himself. The guilt, the despair, the darkness. "How?" she sobbed, her eyes watery but focused. She would do whatever he told her to.

It almost pained him more to know what he was about to say. Would she laugh again? Smile again? Would she still love him? Would he lose everything he loved about her, everything that made her who she was with just three simple words? But now was not the time to be selfish, and there was always the option of telling her to go back. Back to the girl he'd fallen in love with. "Turn it off."

"What?" Stefan took a step forward, immediately objecting but he held up his hand and Stefan froze. She was Damon's responsibility. She was his to take care of now.

"Just turn it off," he spoke gently, trying to soothe her and order at the same time. "and everything will go away." The switch was one of the most seductive aspects of being a vampire. Having a bad day? A bad month? A bad century? Random survivors guilt creeping in after decades of nothing? Pesky conscious nattering on about those you've killed? No more with the handy emotion switch. "That's all you have to do," he promised, then sealed the deal with the magic words he knew she would not be able to resist. "it's what I want you to do." He could feel her jaw hardening beneath his fingertips, saw the light slowly fading from her eyes. "Just turn it off."

She said nothing, barely moved at all but he could see it. Could feel it in the air between them, could feel the connection they shared weaken. Her eyes were no longer desperate, no longer innocent and after a few more moments they were glassy. Her face held no emotion. No despair, no anger, no hurt. Slowly she looked up, her eyes briefly focusing on Caroline, and then on Stefan but she wasn't really seeing them. She was looking right through them, right through everything. It was almost like she barely recognized anyone at first. Then there was a brief glimpse of the old her before the lock shut tight over her emotions and the switch was put firmly in place. She still did not move and Damon sat there next to her, even after Caroline and Stefan had gone outside.

Damon had rid himself of the clothes that still held the slight tinge of smoke from the house burning. She'd still done it, even without her emotions logic had still been there to make her believe it was the best cover story to keep people from asking questions about her brother's death. And while she had been right that didn't make the choice any harder, well at least not for someone with emotions. Not that she those now, thanks to him. And his stupid request. He was regretting it already. He spotted Stefan going down the stairs as he came out of his room, then heard the front door close behind him. They were alone, but where was she? Slowly his ears searched the house, a far quicker way to do it than walk up and down the hallways, poking his head into the many rooms of the Boarding House.

On the second floor he heard water running in the guest bathroom and followed the sound, seeing her through the glass. She sat on the floor, her knees tight to her chest as the water poured down over her. There was still the same blank, expressionless look on her face, the same glassy haze over her eyes. Had she realized it yet? That the switch was nothing more than a coping mechanism? He remembered briefly talking about it with Rose before her death. The switch wasn't real, at least not in the way one considered it. The emotions weren't really gone, for it was impossible to feel nothing. Feeling nothing was in fact feeling something and he could tell from her current location and position that this nothing she was feeling was possibly much more powerful than the pain that had crippled her to her knees just a few hours ago. Would she wake up the pain now? Tomorrow? In a few weeks, or would the simple denial keep her going for a while. Long enough to find the cure? To take all this away from her and put things back the way they once were?

At least, some of the things. The cure wouldn't bring her brother back, wouldn't bring her home back or the rest of the family she'd lost. But it would return her to a place where she'd been happier, where she hadn't craved the blood of a human, where she didn't have to deal with the killing and the constant cravings. It wasn't just craving to drink, but of everything. He remembered back to when he was a new vampire. He wanted it all, wanted everything and desperately. So much to the point that after leaving Mystic Falls he became unstoppable. He wanted a girl, he compelled her into bed. He wanted a drink he compelled the bartender to look the other way, and then meet him in the alley behind the bar. He wanted a place to stay, a new car, new clothes…the world was his oyster. Everything was at his fingertips and for a while that was what he tried to focus on. But even with the switch flipped there was never really any blank emotion. There was always something, one emotion or another trying to pry it's way through.

Loneliness, anger, hatred, disgust, despair, lust, love, desire, pain. He was never completely without them and as time wore on they only grew in strength instead of waning away into nothing. It was extremely disappointing and he dealt with that for a while until he realized that disappointment was an emotion itself. And finally, even after Lexi had come on Stefan's behalf, after Will had tried to convince him to give up, even after the search for Katherine continued to turn up fruitless he gave in and the switch was back on again. The emotions pounded into at every angle and for a while all he could do was feel. Decades went by and he went back and forth between the something that was nothing and the everything that was overwhelming until he met Elena. She stopped it all; the terrible back and forth of insanity. She gave purpose to his life again, gave him something; someone to feel for.

And what had he done? Told her to do the very thing he most regretted about his earlier life as a vampire. When she did come back; and he knew she would he would be there to center her as she'd done for him. It wouldn't be tomorrow, and it wouldn't be pretty but he swore to himself as he approached her and reached into the shower to turn the water off, that he would protect her and make sure that she knew he still loved her, even if her love for him was on the back burner. At the sound of the water turning off she looked up at him, sensing his presence long before but not caring until now. Ah see, already the caring was attempting to claw its way back in. Even in the form of annoyance it was caring. "Go away."

He shook his head and pulled her up, framing her face in his hands. Her hair was soaked, heavy and stuck to her back and shoulders in long damp strands. "We're going to dry you off and then it's time to go to bed."

"I'm not going to bed." She said defiantly and he nearly smiled. Her stubbornness was not gone. She cared enough to disagree with him instead of simply following what he said.

"Yes you are. It's been a long day and you need to rest."

She opened her mouth to protest again, but nothing came out and she snapped it shut, pushing away the emotions that wanted her to tell him to fuck off. He'd nearly seen the words on her tongue, but she was stronger than he thought and she was finding herself and the off switch to be quite friendly. Pretending she had no emotions was sitting quite well with her and when he held out the towel to her she merely held out her arms so he could dry her. For a moment he saw Katherine on her face, hard and cool and without love. He didn't like the look, even though it was familiar and so he focused on her body instead. First he covered her shoulders, squeezing the water from her hair so it made a puddle behind her on the floor.

Then he twisted it up with a smaller towel around her head and tucked a few loose strands away. She said nothing, moved very little even when he wrapped the towel around her chest, gently drying the valley between her breasts. Partly to test her and partly because he couldn't help himself he cupped them through the white cotton, glancing up at her. Her face remained blank, but he could see her eyes flash. There was a flicker of annoyance, of arousal, of pride and then nothing. He smoothed his hands and the towel down her waist, her hips until he was on his knees again before her, drying her legs. Down one, up the other. With his eyes on her again he took the towel and slowly moved it up the inside of her leg, slowly moving up to her thigh. His mistaken brush against her sex was no accident and he saw her knees weaken just slightly. That was a pure body response and she felt no need to hide it.

"My brother just died and you are trying to seduce me?" she said, almost sounding like she was demanding, but quickly throwing a dampener on that before she could fully submit to the emotion.

"You said you weren't tired." He shrugged as non-chalant as he could, hoping if she saw how terrible he looked heartless and emotionless she may not stay in the dark as long as he did. "I figured you wouldn't mind if we wasted a little time. The house is empty."

The idea seemed to appeal to her on some level because she quickly squeezed her legs together, trapping his hand between her thighs when he went to pull away. "I can't think of anything better to do."

He shook his head, almost feeling bad. Was this taking advantage of her? Or was she taking advantage of him? He barely knew anymore. Normally she was his emotional compass, showing him what was right and what was wrong, but now he could barely tell which way was up and which way was down. "Are you sure?"

"You've never asked me that before, so I don't see the point in starting now." When he didn't answer her or continue to touch her she got down on her knees before him, her hands on his neck. "Do you want to take me here? Back in the shower? Want to take the time to walk back to the bedroom?"

He almost felt used, though it had been his idea. Could he bring her back simply with sex? Was it too soon to objectify the sire bond and bring back the state of mess she'd been in before? "You tell me, your new found sense of logic is unclouded by emotion. What is that telling you?"

She looked around before tugging him closer, slanting her lips over his in a kiss that was all tongue and all breathless opened mouth. "Here is closer."

He pulled back from the kiss, his fingers digging tightly into her hips in a warning to slow down. "Just hold on."

"No." she shook her head, her hands sliding down his chest, undoing buttons as she went. When her fingers met his belt she didn't even blink to take it off. Then with a half moan, half sigh she dipped her hand in and stroked him as best she could in the awkward position. "Seems your body isn't agreeing with your notion of taking things slow."

His hips betrayed him as they moved toward her; his cock as well as it grew even harder in her firm grasp. He knew what it was like to be inside her and for a moment he felt his own sane emotions wain as the lust and desire took over. "Right here, on the floor?"

She nodded, pulling his body over hers and pushing his pants down his hips, working them the rest of the way down to his ankles with her feet. "I want you to know though, there is no more reason to be gentle, to show me how much you love me. This new freedom I have means I don't care about those things anymore. If you want to be rough, then do it. If you want to bite me, go ahead. I'm not going to worry about what you like, what you don't because I don't care. So you shouldn't either."

Then she rolled her hips up against his, the wetness entirely from her arousal and he took it as a sign to go ahead. There was something almost liberating about being with her like this. There was no worry about hurting her, no fear of doing something she disliked. He could be with the one he loved and completely lose himself in her, in his desires, his needs and he could see that she was doing the same. It wasn't a perfect duet of back and forth pleasure like he'd known before. They're past experiences had been intense, full of love and heart. This was an entirely different kind of pure; pure lust and while his broken heart twinged slightly at her lack of emotion. He could feel the cool tile cutting his knees as he knelt between her thighs, digging deeper as he thrusted into her for the first time and he wondered if they were doing the same to her back.

If so, she did not complain. Did she not care? Was she pretending not to? He saw no pain on her face, just raw pleasure. A sensation, that's what she was feeling…not an emotion. No, the desire for more, the need for him not to stop; those would be emotions but she would not voice them and he would not ask her to. This was something they both needed; him so he could see the mistake he'd made, and the very reason why he knew he could never flip his own switch again. And for her, so she could see that a world, that a life without emotions was not one worth living. The sex was great, no one could deny that. The already healing scratches, bites and bruised skin was enough evidence of that. She'd hinted at rough and he'd taken her up on that, wondering if it was a test.

Did she want to feel that at least? Feel the pain, for the sensation was better than feeling nothing? For a moment he thought he saw a single tear fall from her left eye but she brushed it away, running her fingers up into her hair as the first orgasm tore through her body. She clung to him with her free hand, her nails digging into his shoulder as she writhed and spasmed beneath him. Then all of a sudden she was on top, riding him, riding her pleasure out. He watched the waves flash across her face, watched her mouth open and close in soundless cries. Her nails dug into his chest now, drawing blood that she greedily lapped up with her tongue. Her desire for blood, for his had not left with her fleeting emotions and once more he saw Katherine above him. Cold and distant and lost to him.

He had made a mistake, and he was going to do whatever he could to fix it. Elena would flip the switch again and the girl he loved would come back to him. He didn't bother to promise it to her, but as they came together again and she collapsed breathless against his chest, he held her tight and swore to himself that she would not stay like this forever.

a/n: so, I have a feeling some of you may not like this. Perhaps it's just the mood I'm in or the direction that scene told me to take but I hardly think that an 'emotionless' Elena wouldn't be up for a slow romantic walk to the bedroom or care about Damon's thousand thread count silk sheets. It's the carnal needs that are driving her at this moment. Bloodlust, normal lust. The desire for release. It was hardly the sweet dreams ending that I was craving after so much angst and upset, but I believe it suited the emotion better. And I did really want to know what he was thinking. So I do hope that at least some of you enjoyed it. Just so you know I've got a scene to shot fic planned for the 'You Like Me Better This Way' scene as well as a Rebekah free New York oneshot (perhaps even twoshot) coming very soon.