Try me
Elena lay in bed, waiting. She had to, at least, give the impression that she was going to sleep, even if she had no intention to. Jeremy's light had switched off a little while ago. Jenna may or may not have been busy with Alaric. She didn't really want to think about it. Either way, they wouldn't notice what she was up to. That just left Damon, and with any luck that particular obstacle was safely at home sulking about her perceived ingratitude for him 'saving her life' and then trying to punch him, repeatedly. She felt a momentary pang about them being at odds but it was drowned out by the screaming frustration and fear for her family…and friends. Him included. The idiot.
A few moments longer and she decided that she had waited long enough. She was going to see Stefan. The thought of him trapped underground with…her…made her feel like her stomach was too tight. He had nothing to eat down there. He would begin to crumble away. She'd seen the effect on vampires when they hadn't eaten, knew it hurt. Her insides wrenched. Stefan. She was going to get him out of there…somehow, but first she was just going to see him. Without Damon interfering this time.
Slowly she slipped out of bed and padded to the window seat where she had left her clothes. She pulled on the jeans over her pyjama bottoms and her hand reached for the sweater she thought she'd put with it but found only the rough fabric of the seat. She frowned a little and reached over to switch on her lamp. The light snapped on.
"Looking for this?"
Her heart leapt as she spun, one hand pressed to her chest, to find Damon lying on her bed. Under her hand she felt the beat slow and settle before spiking again in anger. The vampire was propped against her headboard, sweater in hand, wafting it back and forth tauntingly.
"Where do you think you are going?"
She didn't say anything, just glared at him.
Damon raised his eyebrows at her. "Oh, I'm getting the silent treatment now," he pretended to look hurt for a split second before adopting his best patronising smirk. "Really Elena?"
She stared him down a beat longer before snapping in a huff of breath, "I'm going to see Stefan." One hand moved to a hip, "But you already knew that."
Damon's smirk melded into his unimpressed look. "Yes, I did." He rolled his eyes. "You're so predictable, Elena." He was trying to insult her into staying, trying to play her. She had the upper hand.
"Didn't know what I was going to do earlier today though, did you?" There was a sharp edge to her voice, almost superior if it wasn't so annoyed. Now he looked well and truly irritated.
"No," he admitted, but his tone was not humble, it was judgemental, "I underestimated how stupid you could be." Ouch. That stung more than she expected. "I won't be making that mistake again."
That's why he was in her room at this time of night. She wasn't as skilled a player as he was at these games and she'd shown her hand too soon. In her defence, she decided, she had almost succeeded but for Elijah inexplicably letting her go.
"You can't stop me going to see Stefan," she told him finally and went to her wardrobe to collect a different sweater. In a blink Damon was in front of her, slamming the barely open door closed with one hand, almost chest-to-chest with her.
"I'm under strict instructions to prevent you doing exactly that," he told her, eyes sharp, "and no limitations were placed on exactly how."
She glared at him; he glared back.
"Get out of my way Damon," she forced out, frustration sounding a little like tears.
"You're not getting this, Elena." He tilted slightly closer and lowered his voice. "If you don't get back into bed, I will put you there myself."
She startled back slightly. He didn't.
"You wouldn't," she whispered uncertainly, tears of frustration and anger definitely threateningly now.
"Try me," he taunted back.
She almost did. Almost. The thought of Damon picking her up and putting her on the bed…the appeal scared her. So instead she threw her hands into the air and stormed around to the side of the bed, dropping down onto it.
"There. Happy?"
He pouted at her, "Never."
She glared, he smirked, his good mood returning with her semi-obedience.
"Now be a good little doppleganger and go to sleep."
"You can't make me go to sleep, Damon."
He shrugged. She was wrong but he'd let her have a modicum of free will.
"Fine. Your choice; if you want to be all cranky in the morning."
Oh, if looks could kill an already pre-dead vampire…
"You better leave if you want me to sleep," she snipped and he held up his hands in mocking surrender.
"All right, I'll go," he tilted his head and made to exit before turning around at the door and adding, "I'll be outside, in case you need me." He flicked a finger at the window, his meaning clear, "all night, in fact." He smirked again and then was gone.
Elena let herself have a moment of twisting the duvet aggressively in her hands before she sighed resigned and slid the jeans back off. If he was guarding her all night then she would just need a different plan. He couldn't always be there.
When his head poked back around the door she jumped.
"Nothing's going to happen you know," he huffed at her patronisingly.
"What?" she whispered weakly, knowing what.
"Stefan." He tilted his head and smiled slyly. "Katherine." The smile faded. "Nothing's going to happen. Stefan's far too noble for that." Somehow he managed to make it sound like a disgusting quality. "So you can stop worrying."
"I wasn't worrying," she replied, the words sounding false to her ears, even as she wondered how he did that, how he knew what to say, because even though she had known what he said was true before he said it, just hearing the words settled the flutter of anxiety in her stomach.
"Right," he replied knowingly and then was gone again, leaving a tingling awareness in her body and strange sensation in her mind.
Damon, meanwhile, was slipping out the front door, his hand already on the dial button for the witch. Elena was clearly not going to give up her suicide mission. He hit call and pressed the phone to his ear. They were going to need a better plan.