The Fury

'Matt.'

TWELVE

Stefan looked at Elena, snow crystals dusting his dark hair. 'What about Matt?'

'I remember—something. It's not clear. But that first night, when I wasn't myself—did I see Matt then? Did I—?'

Fear and a sick sense of dismay swelled her throat and cut her words off. But she didn't need to finish, and Stefan didn't need to answer. She saw it in his eyes.

'It was the only way, Elena,' he said then. 'You would have died without human blood. Would you rather have attacked somebody unwilling, hurt them, maybe killed them? The need can drive you to that. Is that what you would have wanted?'

'No,' Elena said violently. 'But did it have to be Matt? Oh, don't answer that; I can't think of anybody else, either.' She took a shaky breath. 'But now I'm worried about him, Stefan. I haven't seen him since that night. Is he okay? What has he said to you?'

'Not much,' said Stefan, looking away. ' 'Leave me alone' was about the gist of it. He also denied that anything happened that night, and said that you were dead.'

'Sounds like one of those individuals who can't cope,' Damon commented.

'Oh, shut up!' said Elena. 'You keep out of this, and while you're at it, you might think about poor Vickie Bennett. How d'you think she's coping these days?'

'It might help if I knew who this Vickie Bennett is. You keep talking about her, but I've never met the girl.'

'Yes, you have. Don't play games with me, Damon—the cemetery, remember? The ruined church? The girl you left wandering around there in her slip?'

'Sorry, no. And I usually do remember girls I leave wandering in their slips.'

'I suppose Stefan did it, then,' Elena said sarcastically.

Anger flashed to the surface of Damon's eyes, covered quickly with a disturbing smile.

'Maybe he did. Maybe you did. It's all the same to me, except that I'm getting a little tired of accusations. And now—'

'Wait,' said Stefan, with surprising mildness. 'Don't go yet. We should talk—'

'I'm afraid I have a previous engagement.' There was a flurry of wings, and Stefan and Elena were alone.

Elena put a knuckle to her lips. 'Damn. I didn't mean to make him angry. After he was really almost civilized all evening.'

'Never mind,' said Stefan. 'He likes to be angry. What were you saying about Matt?'

Elena saw the weariness in Stefan's face and put an arm around him. 'We won't talk about it now, but I think tomorrow maybe we should go see him. To tell him…' Elena lifted her other hand helplessly. She didn't know what she wanted to tell Matt; she only knew that she needed to do something.

'I think,' said Stefan slowly, 'that you had better go see him. I tried to talk to him, but he didn't want to listen to me. I can understand that, but maybe you'll do better. And I think,' he paused and then went on resolutely, 'I think you'd do better alone with him. You could go now.'

Elena looked at him hard. 'Are you sure?'

'Yes.'

'But—will you be all right? I should stay with you—'

'I'll be fine, Elena,' Stefan said gently, 'Go on.'

Elena hesitated, then nodded. 'I won't be long,' she promised him.

Unseen, Elena slipped around the side of the frame house with the peeling paint and the crooked mailbox labeled Honeycutt. Matt's window was unlocked. Careless boy, she thought reprovingly. Don't you know some-thing might come creeping in? She eased it open, but of course that was as far as she could go. An invisible barrier that felt like a soft wall of thickened air blocked her way.

'Matt,' she whispered. The room was dark, but she could see a vague shape on the bed. A digital clock with pale green numbers showed that it was 12:15. 'Matt,' she whispered again.

The figure stirred. 'Uh?'

'Matt, I don't want to frighten you.' She made her voice soothing, trying to wake him gently rather than startle him out of his wits. 'But it's me, Elena, and I wanted to talk. Only you've got to ask me in first. Can you ask me in?'

'Uh. C'mon in.'

Elena was amazed at the lack of surprise in his voice. It was only after she'd gotten over the sill that she realized he was still asleep.

'Matt. Matt,' she whispered, afraid to go too close. The room was stifling and overheated, the radiator going full blast. She could see a bare foot sticking out of the mound of blankets on the bed and blond hair at the top.

'Matt?' Tentatively, she leaned over and touched him.

That got a response. With an explosive grunt, Matt sat bolt upright, whipping around. When his eyes met hers, they were wide and staring.

Elena found herself trying to look small and harmless, nonthreatening. She backed away against the wall. 'I didn't mean to frighten you. I know it's a shock. But will you talk to me?'

He simply went on staring at her. His yellow hair was sweaty and ruffled up like wet chicken feathers. She could see his pulse pounding in his bare neck. She was afraid he was going to get up and dash out of the room.

Then his shoulders relaxed, slumping, and he slowly shut his eyes. He was breathing deeply but raggedly. 'Elena.'

'Yes,' she whispered.

'You're dead.'

'No. I'm here.'

'Dead people don't come back. My dad didn't come back.'

'I didn't really die. I just changed.' Matt's eyes were still shut in repudiation, and Elena felt a cold wave of hopelessness wash over her. 'But you wish I had died, don't you? I'll leave now,' she whispered.

Matt's face cracked and he started to cry.

'No. Oh, no. Oh, don't, Matt, please.' She found herself cradling him, fighting not to cry herself. 'Matt, I'm sorry; I shouldn't even have come here.'

'Don't leave,' he sobbed. 'Don't go away.'

'I won't.' Elena lost the fight, and tears fell onto Matt's damp hair. 'I didn't mean to hurt you, ever,' she said. 'Not ever, Matt. All those times, all those things I did—I never wanted to hurt you. Truly…' Then she stopped talking and just held him.

After a while his breathing quieted and he sat back, swiping his face with a fistful of sheet. His eyes avoided hers. There was a look on his face, not just of embarrassment, but of distrust, as if he were bracing himself for something he dreaded.

'Okay, so you're here. You're alive,' he said roughly. 'So what do you want?'

Elena was dumbfounded.

'Come on, there must be something. What is it?'

New tears welled up, but Elena gulped them back. 'I guess I deserve that. I know I do. But for once, Matt, I want absolutely nothing. I came to apologize, to say that I'm sorry for using you—not just that one night, but always. I care about you, and I care if you hurt. I thought maybe I could make things better.' After a heavy silence, she added, 'I guess I will leave now.'

'No, wait. Wait a second.' Matt scrubbed at his face with the sheet again. 'Listen. That was stupid, and I'm a jerk—'

'That was the truth and you're a gentleman. Or you'd've told me to go take a hike a long time ago.'

'No, I'm a stupid jerk. I should be banging my head against the wall with joy because you're not dead. I will