"I remember how you manipulated me…. You pushed me around, abused me, erased my memories. Fed on me." Caroline remembers her words the night she changed. They were true too, she did remember what he did to her, and at the time, she hated him for it. Because the way he treated was wrong, and she didn't think she'd ever forgive him for it.

But, as she said, the memories were coming back in pieces, and what she remembered then was not the whole story. The whole story came later. And it changed everything.

Caroline walks into her bedroom, already pulling her camisole up over her chest. It's when she closes the door with her right leg that she hears the voice. "Don't mind me," he says languidly, and she turns to face the man lying on her bed.

"What are you doing here, Damon, and why are you in my bed?" she asks him suspiciously, eyeing her bed carefully. She's not in the mood to do that with him.

Damon seems to have caught her thoughts, for he gives her a lazy smile. "Relax," he says. "I'm not here for that. I just need to…calm down a bit."

She raises an eyebrow and, realizing that she had froze in her activities, she pulls her camisole back over her midriff. "And you came here?" she pushes, not understanding.

Ignoring her question, he sighs and she's sure he rolls his eyes as well. "Just lie down on the bed, Caroline," he says.

She understands that he means it to be an order, and she doesn't think she really have to obey, but she does. She does, however keep to the far left side, with him on the far right. After all, she's still wary of his motives.

"Do you trust me at all?" he asks after a long silence.

"I want to," she says, going for blunt honesty, "but I don't know you well enough to trust you like you want me to."

Another silence falls between them then, both of them resolutely looking up at Caroline's bedroom ceiling, before Damon speaks. "Will you take off the necklace?" he asks. And because he asked instead of demanded, she sits up and obliges, setting the pendant on her nightstand before lying back down. She's deliberately staying as far away from him on the bed as she can, and she's sure he doesn't appreciate it, for he sighs again.

He then turns on his side and physically pulls her to him, wrapping his right arm around her body before she can protest. Not that she does, of course; rather she falls into a light sleep as he watches her. And when she wakes, he is gone, and her necklace is around her neck again.

When she wakes up the night after Logan Fell's almost-attack on her, Caroline feels him looking at her, so she turns to the side of her bed closest to her window to look back at him. She winces as she does, but manages to school her expression before facing him. She doesn't want him to see her in pain.

Unfortunately, there is a nasty bruise on her face, and for some reason, he seems to recoil slightly at the sight of it. Caroline's hand then immediately goes to cover it because right then, she finds herself hating the imperfection more than anything else. He's not supposed to see her unless she's perfect.

Damon is sitting in a chair next to her bed and he doesn't say anything to her, just watches her breathe. After a while, she stops staring back and closes her eyes. She doesn't go back to sleep, rather she listens to his breathing and the impatient tapping of his feet as she tries not to cry.

It almost works too. His silence, his very presence, calms her more than she can even begin to explain, but then he speaks, and her aforementioned calm exterior shatters. "Are you alright?" he asks, his voice softer and gentler than she ever thought him capable of.

She tries to nod, but the tears forming in her eyes negate the effort. "No," she admits at last, her voice barely a whisper. She doesn't speak of the nightmare she just woke from, doesn't tell him how thankful she is that he and his brother got her out of that car; she doesn't have to say it, for he already knows.

His hand reaches out and caresses the bruise on her face. "You're in pain." This time it's not a question, and Caroline doesn't even bother to answer it as if it is.

Suddenly, he grabs a pair of scissors off her desk, opens them, and cuts across his wrist. She just watches him move toward her, blood flowing from his wrist. Little alarms in her mind seem to warn her of what he is, and if she had any strength, she'd try to back away. As it is, he reaches her easily and leans over her, holding her head as he guides his bleeding arm to her mouth. She resists at first, but as soon as he says "Drink," she obeys.

She can't explain why she's so compliant, but she makes no protest as the coppery red liquid slides down her throat. She just trusts him…even after all he's done to her.

When he pulls his arm away, the tears brimming in her eyes finally fall, and her whole body trembles. What happens now?

She almost asks the question aloud, but finds she doesn't need to. The places that used to hurt so bad bother her no more and he looks down at her appraisingly. "Good as new," he breathes, caressing the place where her bruise once was.

She closes her eyes at the touch and snuggles deeper into her blankets, finally able to sleep again.

She hears, rather than sees, him sit back in the chair next to her bed, but when she wakes up, he's gone.

It's late, and Caroline's exhausted and she really should get home. Her mom, if she deigns to pretend she has a daughter, might notice she hasn't slept in her bed and then she'll ask questions Caroline cannot answer. But Caroline can barely move. She feels Damon making little circles on her back and sighs. She can deal with her mom tomorrow, if she even notices. She's too drained to move. She tries, instead, to fall back asleep, but she's trembling now, and she doesn't know why.

Damon notices immediately, though, and his fingers stop moving. "You're tired," he states.

"Mmm-hmm," Caroline mumbles, "trying to sleep."

Damon's dramatic sigh, were she more alert, would have made her sigh; as it is, she just hugs one of his pillows tighter to her as she feels him get out of bed. In all honesty, she's surprised he lets her stay. To her, he seems more the type to bed 'em and leave 'em.

She doesn't know how much time passes while he's gone but she figures it's a good ten minuets or so because he comes back with orange juice and a sandwich. "Eat," he commands her. And she desperately wants to—knows she should, even—but she can't seem to make herself sit up.

"I can't," she tries to tell him, but she's pretty sure that isn't what he hears.

He seems to understand all the same, though, because all of a sudden he's back in bed, helping her sit up and holding the sandwich and orange juice again.

With shaky hands, she grabs the glass of juice and takes tentative sips. She rests her head against the headboard and breathes for a moment. "Who'd of ever thought doing that could take so much out of a person?" she asks, half-serious half-joking.

Damon gives her a lazy smile and, not for the first time with him, she feels like she's missing something.

She hates thinking of Damon as anything other than that-guy-who-hurt-her. She hates doubting her opinion of him. But the memories are real, she knows this now, and she can't help but doubt everything now.

Which Damon Salvatore was the real Damon Salvatore, she can't begin to figure out that puzzle. But Caroline Forbes can safely say that he was not completely horrible to her back when she was human. But what does she do with that? Where do they go from here? She guesses it starts with a meeting, so she knocks on the door.

"Hello, Blondie," says Damon when he answers the door.

Caroline freezes for a moment, but looks him steadily in the eyes, determined to go through with this. "Hello, Damon."