Dr. Meggar's eyebrows drew down and together - and then he looked up at Elena as if peering over glasses. Then he nodded slowly. "You take some bandages and stop your own bleeding," he said - to Elena, not to Damon. Apparently, slave or not, she had won some kind of respect from him.
On the other hand, Elena seemed to have lost stature with Damon - or at least, he'd cut his mind off from hers quite deliberately, leaving her with a blank wall to stare at. In the doctor's waiting room, he waved an imperious hand at Bonnie and Meredith.
"Wait here in this room," he said - no, he ordered. "Don't leave it until the doctor comes out. Don't let anyone in the front door - lock it now, and keep it locked. Good. Elena is coming with me into the kitchen - that's the back door. I do not want to be disturbed by anyone unless an angry mob is threatening the house with arson, do you understand? Both of you?"
Elena could see Bonnie about to blurt out, "But Elena's still bleeding!" and Meredith was with her eyes and brows calling council on whether or not they needed to hold an immediate velociraptor sisterhood rebellion. They all knew Plan A for this: Bonnie would throw herself into Damon's arms, passionately weeping or passionately kissing him, whichever best fit the situation, while Elena and Meredith came at him from the sides and did - well, whatever had to be done.
Elena, with one flash of her own eyes, had categorically nixed this. Damon was angry, yes, but she could sense that it was more with Drohzne than with her. The blood had agitated him, yes, but he was used to controlling himself in bloody situations. And she needed help with her wounds, which had begun to hurt seriously, ever since she'd heard that the woman she had rescued would live, and might even have her baby. But if Damon had something on his mind, she wanted to know what it was - now.
With one last comforting glance at Bonnie, Elena followed Damon through the kitchen door. It had a lock on it. Damon looked at it and opened his mouth; Elena locked it. Then she looked up at her "master."
He was standing by the kitchen sink, methodically pumping water, with one hand clenched against his forehead. His hair hung over his eyes, getting splashed, getting wet. He didn't seem to care.
"Damon?" Elena said uncertainly. "Are you...all right?"
He didn't answer.
Damon? she tried telepathically.
I let you get hurt. I'm fast enough. I could have killed that bastard Drohzne with one blast of Power. But I never imagined you'd get hurt. His telepathic voice was at once filled with the darkest kind of menace imaginable and a strange, almost gentle, calm. As if he were trying to keep all the ferocity and anger locked away from her.
I couldn't even tell him - I couldn't even send words to him to tell him what he was. I couldn't think. He was a telepath; he would have heard me. But I didn't have any words. I could only scream - in my mind.
Elena felt a bit light-headed - a little more light-headed than she'd already been feeling. Damon was feeling this anguish - for her? He wasn't angry about her flagrantly breaking rules in front of crowds, maybe breaking their cover? He didn't mind looking bedraggled?
"Damon," she said. He'd surprised her into speaking out loud. "It - it - doesn't matter. It's not your fault. You would never even have let me do it - "
"But I should have known you wouldn't ask! I thought you were going to attack him, to jump on his shoulders and throttle him, and I was ready to help you do that, to take him down like two wolves taking down a big buck. But you're not a sword, Elena. Whatever you think, you're a shield. I should have known that you would take the next blow yourself. And because of me, you got - " His eye drifted to her cheekbone and he winced.
Then he seemed to get a grip on himself. "The water is cold, but it's pure. We need to clean those slashes and stop that bleeding now."
"I don't suppose there's any Black Magic around," Elena said, half jokingly. This was going to hurt.
Damon, however, immediately began opening cupboards. "Here," he said after checking only three, triumphantly coming up with a half-full bottle of Black Magic. "Lots of doctors keep this as a medicine and anesthetic. Don't worry; I'll pay him well."
"Then I think you should have some, too," Elena said boldly. "Come on, it'll do us both good. And it won't be the first time."
She knew that the last sentence would clinch it with Damon. It would be a way of getting back something that Shinichi had taken from him.
I'll get the whole of his memories back from Shinichi somehow, Elena decided, doing her best to screen her thoughts from Damon with white noise. I don't know how to do it, and I don't know when I'll get the chance, but I swear I will. I swear.
Damon had filled two goblets with the rich, heady-smelling wine and was handing one to Elena. "Just sip at first," he said, helpless but to fall into the role of instructor. "This is a good year."
Elena sipped, then simply gulped. She was thirsty and Clarion Loess Black Magic wine didn't have any alcohol - as such - in it. It certainly didn't taste like regular wine. It tasted like remarkably refreshing effervescent spring water that was flavored with sweet, deep, velvety grapes.
Damon, she noticed, had forgotten to sip as well, and when he offered her a second glass to match his, she accepted willingly.
His aura sure had calmed down a lot, she thought, as he picked up a wet cloth and began, gently, to clean the cut that almost exactly followed the line of her cheekbone. It had been the one to stop bleeding first, but now he needed to get the blood flowing again, to cleanse it. With two glasses of Black Magic on top of no food since breakfast, Elena found herself relaxing against the back of the chair, letting her head drop back a little, and shutting her eyes. She lost track of time, as he stroked the cut smoothly. And she lost strict control of her aura.