The human eye has a blind spot, it's called the punctum caecum. Therefore our eyes never register a complete picture, some pieces of information will always be missing. Our brains though, are used to this problem. They collect information, memorise it, and automatically fill in the gaps with what they think is the most probably fit. It happens so fast we don't even notice it. As a result we always think we see everything there is to see. But sometimes there's a lot more in a picture then meets the eyes…

xXx

When all of your flaws and all of my flaws
Are laid out one by one
The wonderful part of the mess that we made
We pick ourselves undone

xXx

A few days later

Today would be different. That's what Elena had been promising herself. Today was the day she'd make things up to Damon and everything would change.

"Good morning E-le-na," the young man greeted her in the kitchen, kind and composed, like they hadn't been ignoring each other for the last couple of days. Though Elena was taken aback, she had no choice but to follow his lead. This was her opportunity to convince him to let her stay.

"G-good morning, Damon," she stammered. Damn, when did she develop a speaking disorder?

"So, do you have any plans for today?" Damon wondered out loud, surprising her even more.

"I was planning on-."

Deep blue eyes, kind deep blue eyes…Damn. Focus!

"No, I-, I guess I don't." What was going on, where was the animosity?Andthat strong, confident voice would be welcome now… anytime…

"Great, I was thinking about showing you the woods, I figured Stefan forgot about that part of our property. He never liked long walks," Damon told her conversationally.

"Wow, that would be great. I- I made you breakfast," Elena stuttered, offering him some bacon and eggs. She was still confused, but luckily managed to get the frying pan over to the table without burning herself in the process. Today everything had to be perfect, to prove to him that she was worthy of another chance, a better first impression. They'd have to deal with one another for months anyhow, better get a grip.

"So Elena… Stefan never told me how you ended up here, would you care to enlighten me?" Damon questioned suddenly. What the hell was going on? Why the sudden change in demeanor?

"I, euhm, it's quite a long story… euhm," she started, not sure where to begin. If she told him about her parents, it would only darken the mood. She couldn't let that happen, not now he was finally acting remotely normal around her. Just as she started wondering to what she owed this sudden mood swing, he snapped her out of her reverie.

"Elena?" he questioned.

"Yes," she replied, looking up at him again.

"You were just about to tell me how you ended up here," he reminded her impatiently.

"Well, your brother needed a housekeeper and some company and I needed a job and a place to stay," she eventually replied, deciding that that was all he needed to know for now.

"Alright, fair enough," Damon relented.

"What made you come back?" Elena returned the question. As far as she knew, the two brothers hadn't lived together for over four years, let alone kept in contact.

"Life," a sigh escaped Damon's lips, "Let's just say I got an unwanted visitor back in Australia," he stated vaguely.

"So you let one of your friends stay with you, and in order to avoid them, you moved all the way to the other side of the world?" Elena guessed.

"She was not a friend," Damon shot back, clearly disliking the turn the conversation had taken.

"Fine, I'm sorry I asked," Elena quickly replied, though her curiosity been spiked. She made a mental note to ask Stefan later and decided to let it go for now, not wanting to infuriate Damon again.

"So," he drew, "Are you ready to go?"

xXx

Damon pushed the wire around their territory up so Elena could crawl underneath. Once upon a time, the wire had been charged, keeping wild animals from entering their grounds. Now it had no use anymore. As the city had slowly expanded, their land had gradually gotten surrounded by the ever expanding concrete. He didn't like it at all, that's why he had moved to Australia a couple of years ago. The fresh air, the nature, the kindness of the people, who seemed untouched by all the stress he saw on a daily basis in his own country. Damn, he missed Australia.

Australia had been his one ticket out, his escape. When he'd gotten the job offer, his entire world had changed. It became lighter, brighter, for the first time in as long as he could remember, he'd been happy. Right until she had shown up that was, of course. The bane of his existence. When Elena had asked him about her this morning, it had taken all of his self-control not to snap at her, but he hadn't. He'd vowed to himself that he would behave from now on, at least until he figured out if he wanted to get rid of her or not. He knew it would enrage his baby brother and he hadn't figured out how he felt about that either.

After their 'incident' in his bedroom, being around her had been difficult. He couldn't tell for sure what had happened when she'd stepped into his room. Had he been talking in his sleep? Had she heard anything and if she had, was it enough for her to put the pieces together? His best guess was she hadn't, he figured that if she had, she probably would have brought it up at some point, unless the part of her that was scared of him, outweigh the part of her that cared. Also a very real possibility, Damon mused bitterly.

After contemplating the best way to approach Elena, Damon decided that she had not done anything to hurt him really, not deliberately anyway. Even during his silent treatment, she'd always made them diner, placing his plate in front of his room, followed by a soft knock on the door, before she fled the scene. She had stayed kind and polite and had not mentioned a word about his strange behavior to Stefan. Damon was sure of that, otherwise he brother would have admonished him already. So that morning Damon had switched things up, giving their friendship another chance. That's how he ended up on the edge of the woods, holding up the wire for Elena. There, there.

Elena moved swiftly, very gracefully behind him. But he hadn't missed the way her eyes where burning holes into his back whenever she thought he wasn't looking. He knew she was curious about his sudden mood swings, but he didn't feel like explaining himself. Not today. By the time they reached the main path, Elena was walking by his side, asking all sorts of questions about flowers, squirrels and trees, anything impersonal she could come up with really. Stefan must have told her about his degree in bio-engineering, but Damon didn't mind, he loved talking about his one true passion and he had to admit that it was nice to have someone be interested in him for a change. His brother had always been the golden boy, the popular one, the normal one, Damon being the rebellious one, the troublemaker.

xXx

Halfway their hike, they finally reached the meadow Damon had been looking for. Elena's eyes widened in amazement. He understood how she felt: the green grass, the wild flowers, it all looked surreal, like a picture out of a fairytale.

"This is beautiful," she gushed, twirling around so the wind snuck underneath the dress, fanning the fabric out around her slender body. She was mesmerizing, how had he missed that before? The second she stopped moving, he let his eyes rake over her thin figure, noticing how that simple white dress of hers hugged her body in all the right places. Her beautiful brown hair, her kind features, those never ending legs, her eyes burning with joy and excitement over this precious place, he couldn't argue with the fact that this girl was quite attractive.

As Damon tried to recall how long it had been since he'd looked at someone like that, his thoughts were interrupted once he realized he was staring.

"Sorry," he murmured, averting his eyes as if lighting had stuck.

"It's ok," she replied.

"It's just… your eyes… " he gave away, before realizing his mistake. Now he surely had to elaborate. He gave himself a mental slap.

"Well then, whose eyes do they remind you off?" Elena questioned curiously.

"My mother's," Damon answered reluctantly, thinking about how stupid that must sound coming out of a grown man's mouth.

Elena was quiet for a second, probably not knowing how to react. "Stefan never really talked about her, I recall he was very young when she-"

"Two," Damon interrupted.

"What?" Elena inquired confused.

"Stefan was only two years old when she died, he hardly even remembers her," Damon told her quietly.

"Oh," Elena cast her eyes down for a long moment. "And you? How old were you?" she asked him softly when he didn't speak.

"I had just turned six," Damon told her, sounding more vulnerable than she'd ever heard him. A silence stretched across the meadow.

"That must have been hard on you, I'm sorry," Elena spoke tentatively, meeting his eyes hesitantly so he could see she genuinely meant it.

"It was a long time ago, I've moved on," Damon replied once he'd regained his composure.

"I suppose it was, but that kind of loss, it doesn't just go away. They may say that time heals all wounds, but they never mention the scars, do they?" Elena mused.

"They don't," Damon agreed, even though he knew that it hadn't been a question.

Damon's handed her one of the water bottles he had been carrying around in his backpack. His eyes softened a little, realizing they'd just had their first real conversation, about his mother none less. Strangely enough, he was ok. He hardly ever talked about her with anyone; it had been years since he'd mentioned her out loud. But today, it had felt good telling Elena. She seemed to understand, without him having to explain everything out loud, it was oddly comforting. Maybe I should give her more credit, he thought, as they drank their water in companionable silence.

xXx

When they were walking side by side, away from the meadow, something had changed between them. Ever since they shared that special moment, the conversations grew more amicable, personal even. They discussed what kind of music they liked, the countries they had visited so far and the ones they'd love to visit in the future and other trivial stuff they didn't know about each other yet. As Damon talked about his favorite types of food, Elena even offered to try all of them out during their time together.

Damon started warming up to her, liking the prospect of sharing a house with his new friend for the next two months. He hadn't connected with a girl ever since he was 17, his only friend being a 34 year old history teacher.

As the little path through the bushed narrowed, Elena offered to take the lead, feeling adventurous. She cautiously made her way between the never ending green surroundings, pushing every obstacle out of the way, while still being careful not to disturb the pristine nature. Damon was happy to see her enjoying his favorite forest as much as he did. His father and Stefan never cared for this sort of hiking trips; they liked clean and neat roads. It was his mom who had shown him this beauty. They had shared numerous walks here, Damon always being the one to go first.

Elena's eyes shone with excitement as she headed forward, reminding him of a younger version of himself. It had worked out perfectly this far, right until she forgot about one of the flexible branches she was holding back, causing it to shoot right into Damon's flesh, cutting him right above his right brow.

"Aw!" Damon yelped, blood started seeping down his face, making a trace all the way down to his shirt, staining it.

Elena looked over the damage guiltily before she shot into action, taking her bottle of water and spilling it over her clean handkerchief. As she tiptoed to gain access to his face he turned away, out of her reach.

"Damon, you're hurt, let me help you," she asked kindly.

"Don't," he replied, turning away from her.

She took his shoulder and turned him around to face her, bringing her hand once again closer to his face in an attempt to clean him up.

"Don't touch me," he raised his voice, getting more and more worked up. He didn't like people trespassing into his personal bubble. He needed some space, why did everyone always assume they were allowed this close?

"You're acting like a baby, you need help, you might even need stitches, let me check!" She was louder now with her words, worried about him, but Damon didn't even notice.

"Damon, son you're bleeding," his father informed him. Damon hadn't even noticed. Halfway through family dinner, Katherine had slipped her bare foot out of her high heels, brushing it up against his ankles, his calves, his pants… He hated feeling so powerless, defenseless. She was controlling him, having her way with him, while everyone was looking, but there was nothing he could do. He'd thought about telling his father once, he almost did, but Katherine had insured him she'd tell his father that Damon had forced himself on her, the manipulative bitch… She'd assured him that his father would never believe him over her… Damon knew she was right. Who would ever believe him, a young man, so much stronger, than the woman in front of him?

Of course he could have resisted and he would have, had she not threatened to switch brothers. Stefan was only 13 years old, he had never fallen in love, he hadn't even hit puberty yet. His brother was very smart for his age, but he wasn't interested in anything regarding his body, not yet. Damon couldn't even think about Katherine laying a hand on him, he was still so innocent. So while Stefan was enthusiastically babbling about his project for the science fare, Katherine had been torturing Damon, right under his father's nose. He'd been so deep in thought that he'd accidently cut into his finger, instead of in the bread. His father had been right, Damon was bleeding, the cut was pretty deep, but it would heal. This wasn't the kind of pain Damon feared.

"Don't worry sweetheart, I'll take care of you," Katherine stood up from her seat, approaching him.

"No, you won't," Damon bit back, standing up himself to head for the kitchen.

"Don't be like that, Damon, you know I can make it all better," Katherine chided, giving him another remark full of innuendo only the two of them understood.

"I do Not want your help, don't touch me!" Damon stated, trying hard to keep from lashing out.

"Nonsense boy, that looks pretty deep, let Katherine help you with that, go on…" his father insisted, completely oblivious to what was going on between Damon and his smirking wife. If he had paid any attention to her and her needs, perhaps none of this had ever happened in the first place.

Katherine gently pushed Damon towards the kitchen door and he felt sick. It was not just from the loss of blood. Katherine shut the door behind him and took out her white handkerchief, stroking his hand and wiping the red liquid from his fingers.

Then she took his finger and brought it to her lips, kissing it, running her tongue along the cut. He tried hard to forget what was happening, focusing on her long brown hair, picturing the sea. He barely even felt what she came next, he was under water, the waves crushing over him, shielding him from the world above the surface.

Taking advantage of his momentary defeat, Elena reached his face with her handkerchief, in a final attempt to stop the bleeding. Her face was so close now, he could smell her lavender shampoo. That's when he started noticing the waves, the long brow waves. Suddenly he panicked, violently taking her wrist and jerking it away. His force caused her to fall backwards; luckily she landed in the bushes.

"Damon!" she exclaimed, massaging her sore wrist.
Damon, however, didn't care about her, he didn't care about anything. How could he not have notice how much they looked alike? The big brown eyes, the long lashes, her long brown hair, her slender little body. Just an hour ago, his eyes had raked over that body, thinking she was beautiful, but… she looked like her, like the woman who had taken everything from him. Neither of them could be beautiful, she was, they were- …

Damon felt disgusted with himself. He felt bile rise in his throat and was sick to his stomach. He had to get out, now. That's when he left, running, he needed to get away, faster, further, faster, further, faster, further, fast-, He stumbled, falling to his knees, shaking, he'd been losing a lot of blood, head wounds always heal fairly slowly.

He felt like lying down, but he couldn't, not while she was still there. So he stood up and wiped the blood away once again, running all the way home, until he crashed on top of his bed, feeling exhausted, everything ached.

xXx

There's a hole in my soul
I can't fill it, I can't fill it
There's a hole in my soul
Can you fill it? Can you fill it?

xXx

Elena was still on the ground, feeling very dazed. What had just happened? One moment he had been fine and the next…She couldn't even wrap her mind around the situation. When he'd refused her help, she'd thought he was just being macho, but seeing that look in his eyes and focusing once again on her sore wrist, she realized she must have missed something. He'd hurt her, he actually, physically hurt her, he could have broken that wrist! Well, perhaps she was aggregating, but still. He had behaved so oddly, he should not have shoved her aside for trying to help him and he should not have ran off.

She thought back to their day, everything had been fine, more than fine. They'd bonded, shared stories, he'd even told her about his mother… Yet suddenly it had been like doctor Jekyll had turned into Mister Hyde. His mood swings were giving her whiplash.

She stood up, flexing her muscles. Apart from her wrist, she was fine. She took a look around the forest, no Damon in sight. He just left her, in the middle of nowhere! What if she got lost? Ok, there was only one path and as long as she didn't stray, she'd probably get back to the boarding house rather easily, but still, leaving her was out of line.

As she made her way back, she pondered what might have set Damon off. She tried hard to remember his words. It was something about her touching him, but that could not have been the problem though, could it? That was something he had said because he was mad, wasn't it? Except, earlier, when he woke up from his nightmare, hadn't he used those exact same words too? It must be a coincidence, Elena decided.

Damon was 26, a grown man, so ignoring her for days, hurting her and leaving her alone in a forest, that could definitely not be just because she'd touched him, talk about an overreaction! No, it must have been something different… She'd just been trying to help him both times… Was that it? Was he so opposed to letting anyone help him that he would react this way? That idea didn't sound any more logical than the previous one.

When she reached the boarding house a little while later, she started to feel anxious. What should she do? She was trembling slightly when she reached the front door. Luckily, he hadn't locked it. The house was quiet, deserted, the curtains were closed and none of the lights were on and Damon? Damon was nowhere to be found. Hesitantly she walked up the stairs, crushing down on top of her covers, feeling completely and utterly alone.

xXx

Damon had calmed down a bit in the meantime, turning down the volume on his IPod a little, though it was still loud enough to block out the entire world surrounding him. Music had been one on his few escapes throughout the past couple of years. The piano riff from R.E.M.'s Nightswimming flew through his headphones for what must be about the twentieth time in a row, but it always managed to put him at ease.

The song reminded him of the times his mom would take him to the pond at night, leaving his dad in charge of the baby. His dad had never approved of those trips. Of course that was part of what made them so much fun. The moon would always shine brightly above the water, giving the water's surface a somewhat magical glow. His hands would be clutching his mother's back, clinging to her like she was his life vest. Maybe she had been, in more ways than just one.

Afterwards she'd wrap him up in a warm blanket and carry him home, brushing the hair out of his face right before kissing the top of his head. She'd cared so much for him, he could feel it in every bone of his body. No one had ever cared for him like that after she had passed away. He missed her, so much.

These things, they go away
Replaced by everyday…
Nightswimming…

After hearing the song fade out once again, he started wondering about Elena. What had happened in the woods? Why hadn't she just let go of him, like he'd asked her to? Then none of this would have happened. But it did, what now? Was she hurt? He remembered twisting her wrist, he remembered seeing her fall down. But he'd just left, he'd left her alone in the middle of the woods. Did she even know how to get back? What if something happened to her? He would never forgive himself.

He jumped out of his bed, needing to know she was ok. He checked the clock on the nightstand. It had been two hours! She must have gotten home by now. He opened his door and stepped out into the hallway, walking straight up to her room. Should he knock? He had no clue what to say to her, but how else would he know she was ok?

Suddenly he heard her voice, weakened by the thick door of her room. Yet it was there, she was safe. Relieve coursed through him. He decided to put his ear to the timber, of course he knew it wasn't nice, but he needed some reassurance she was doing ok.

"… I don't even know how it happened, one minute we were having a great time and the next everything was shot to hell…"

Who was she talking to? Stefan? He'd heard them calling a few times already, but usually she'd call in the living room. Why was she suddenly calling in her room?

"… so I reached up to wipe the blood away, you should've seen it, it was such a bad cut…"

Oh right, his cut. he reached up to touch his face. There was dried blood everywhere, he'd completely forgotten about that. He walked over to the bathroom to clean himself up. It still hurt a little, but it could have been worse of course. When he was walking back through the hallway, he passed her room once more, she was still talking. He was so curious about what she was thinking, he couldn't help but listen in on her conversation again.

"… and why would he do that? I mean, I just wanted to help! Afterwards he just left me, alone, he didn't even try to come up with an excuse. Before I realized what had happened, he was already long gone…" Her voice sounded muffled, was she crying? He felt guilty for the way he'd behaved. He was just thinking about how he could make this up to her, when he suddenly heard her say: "I think something happened to him, there must be something I'm missing. People don't just snap into such hostile versions of themselves for no apparent reason. All I did was touch his face. I wonder how he got this way."

Damon started to feel anger bubbling up inside of him, who the hell was she to start psychoanalyzing him, with his brother of all people! It's not like he had a problem with Stefan, he didn't hate him or anything, but the relationship between the two brothers had always been tense. Part of Damon blamed his brother for what Katherine had done, if Stefan hadn't been there to be the perfect blackmail-material, Katherine might have left him alone. On top of that, Stefan had always been his father's favorite. Actually, pretty much everyone who knew them both, preferred Stefan over Damon and Elena seemed to be no exception. Stefan was part of the problem, part of what had made life so much harder. Stefan, the perfect fit, Damon the perfect outcast. It's not that Damon needed to be the best, or the most loved or anything, he just wished that for once in his life, people would stop comparing them. Accept them both to just be different, instead of competing in a league, when no league could ever fit both.

"He literally grabbed my wrist. I thought he was going to break it, I was so scared…" That manipulative little -! Why did people always do that, earn his trust and downright abuse it! Talking behind his back like that, pinning his own brother against him! As if Stefan needed any excuse to look down on him. As if their relationship wasn't troubled enough. Stefan would surely tell their father, maybe he'd get kicked out of his own house because of her. He wasn't feeling guilty one second longer. Damon was seeing red.

He swung the door open with one swift movement: "Who the hell do you think you are, you little manipulative instigator?" he demanded, yelling at her.

Elena just stared at him, her big brown eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

"Don't act all innocent, I heard you talking to Stefan, informing him of how horrible his big brother had been to you. What do you want Elena? Is your knight in shining armor going to nark on me? Is he going to inform my father, so the old man can kick me out and you'll have the house back to yourself, is that it? Because if it is, you could've just asked. I'd have left you happily!" Damon spit out enraged.

Elena didn't know what hit her, or even how to respond. What was happening? Where did he get all of this? "Have you been eavesdropping?" she questioned, getting more frustrated by the second as the false accusations piled up.

"What's it to you? Not so brave now huh, now I'm standing right in front of you? What is your problem? Nothing to say while we're standing face to face? Of course not, you prefer yapping behind my back, don't you?" he shot back, not even caring about the fact that he'd admitted he had been eavesdropping.

"I'll call you back," Elena spoke, hanging up the phone she'd been holding. "I wasn't talking to Stefan," she replied to Damon, eyes darkening.

Damon was taken aback for just a second: "Well who were you talking to, then?" he demanded.

"My family, "she replied, a little softer than before.

"Of course you were," Damon raised his voice again, aggravated. "Why didn't I think of that," he muttered sarcastically, "That is just so stupid of me! Of course little Elena went to go call her good old daddy, telling the concerned, loving father that his sweet, little girl had gotten hurt in the woods by a big bad man! Sure! You've only known me for what? A week? And you've already figured me all out, haven't you? Made up that judgy little mind of yours. Why? Because I'm too different? Did it ever cross your mind that maybe I didn't mean to hurt you and that I came up to your room to apologize and make it up to you, before you decided to judge me?"

"Damon, it's not like that-" Elena tried to intersect.

"Not like what Elena? You know who's not like that? MY father! While yours comforts his sweet little daughter and offers her a shoulder to cry on, I've had to fend for myself for over twenty years now, and contrary to you, I actually have very real problems and a very real past. I wasn't raised with rainbows and unicorns, Elena, I had a hard time, a really hard time. You might think about that before you start jugging people you don't even now, and surely before you call home. Some of us don't have a home!" Damon snapped angrily, fingers trembling. Home, damn what he wouldn't give for a cuddly, warm home.

That was it, everything that had been building up inside him, just out in the open. Fragile. He didn't care that she knew his life hadn't been perfect, this was necessary. She needed to realize that not all people came from perfect, happy families. He needed her to feel it burn, to feel the guilt.

"I wasn't calling my dad," Elena answered dryly, not bothering to explain herself. What kind of game was she playing?

"Your dad, your mom, your fucking dog for all I care, that's really beside the point. The point is-"

Elena interrupted him. "Yes, Damon, what is the point exactly?" she asked defiantly.

Damon felt the madness boil up once again. Was this ever going to end? There was no taunting him, he'd rip her to shreds. Who the hell did she think she was?! Twenty-something, stuck-up, elitist- "Damn it Elena! The point is that you're a self-absorbed, spoiled brat who doesn't understand!"

"Doesn't understand what Damon? That life is not perfect? That it sucks? That we lose people we care about and that in the end we're all alone in this world? Is that what I don't understand? Because I do, better than you can imagine. What was it you said about judging people before you know their story?" Elena added rhetorically.

"And why would you, of all people, understand?" Damon demanded, not grasping yet where this conversation was headed.

The car crash.

"Because those parents, I was just talking to or so you thought, that good old daddy you were talking about, he won't come around to comfort his sweet, little girl. It's hasn't been that way for a while now and it won't change ever again. You want to know why? Because they're both dead. The night I turned seventeen, our car crashed. It slipped of the road into the water and I watched them both drown before I lost consciousness. I was talking to my little brother, he's all I have left. And for your information, it takes over a minute to fill a car with water. We all knew what was coming as soon as we realized we couldn't get out. In the end I felt my mom's hand loosen her grip on mine as she ran out of oxygen, so yes Damon, I do know about loss. Now get – out – of – my - room." Elena spoke slowly. She was fighting back tears, to no avail.

Damon was perplexed, frozen onto the hard wooden floor. Damn. He had made a big mistake. She was right, who was he to start judging people when he was shouting about not wanting to be judged himself? How did it get this far? He looked up at Elena, feeling very, very bad. She stared right back at him, her eyes cold, calculated. What should he do? What could he say? A plain and simple sorry wasn't going to cut it, not this time.

"Elena…" he started tentatively.

"I said: Get. Out." she replied coldly, threatening.

Damon just kept standing there, desperately looking for the right words, but there weren't any.

"GET OUT!" she yelled now, losing her composure, she couldn't take it anymore, not with him here and not tonight.

Damon slowly turned around, closing her door gently before crashing down against it. His body felt limb, his mind was racing, one question coursing through his mind on loop: What did I do? What did I do? What did I do?

xXx

When all of your flaws and all of my flaws
Are laid out one by one
The wonderful part of the mess that we made
We pick ourselves undone

xXx

Our brain fills in the information we miss with assumptions, not just visually but in social interaction as well. These automatic interpretations are not just useful, they're indispensable. They tell us to assume the guy with the gun will shoot us if we anger him, they lead us to believe the people with the kind and open smiles can be trusted. We see a big belly and assume a woman is pregnant, we see people talking and looking our way and we instantly feel judged. Assumptions are no hard science however, they are just the brain's way of compensating for the fact that none of us have all the answers.

And sometimes that bigger picture we thought we observed, looks entirely different when that one missing piece of information comes into view…

xXx

Song: Flaws – Bastille
Update: probably before next weekend