Day 3

As soon as I heard the beeping of the hospital heart monitor, I knew I had failed.

It seemed like there was nothing I could do right. I couldn't even kill myself properly.

I opened my groggy eyes and saw exactly what I had expected – a small, pale, plainly decorated hospital room. I was lying in an uncomfortable bed, the back slightly tilted up so I wasn't lying flat. I looked down and saw I was wearing the standard blue and white hospital gown. A quilted blanket was pulled up to just under my armpits and my arms lied in my lap. Both wrists were wrapped heavily with white gauze.

I rolled my head over to the side and my heart fluttered – a sound made noticeable by the monitor. Damon was sitting in a large blue armchair, his head tilted back to lean on the wall and he was sleeping.

The door to my right suddenly opened and I nearly groaned when I saw it was Jenna. Her eyes were stern and her lips were pursed in a tight line, but she never looked directly at me.

She walked to my side and checked a bag that was hanging on a pole. I hadn't even realized it was connected to my arm, just below the bend of my elbow.

"What is that?" I asked and I noticed my voice sounded thick and tired.

"It'll help with the pain," she responded flatly.

"Which hospital am I in? And why isn't the hospital nurse checking the medicine?" To be honest, I really didn't want to be around Jenna at the moment. Her anger directed toward me was not helping me find any reason to be glad the suicide attempt didn't work.

"You're still at the rehabilitation center. This facility is entirely prepared to handle..." she paused to search for the correct word to use. "…residents," she finally settled on, "like you."

I heard a yawn to my right and I turned my head in time to see Damon come out of a stretch. He pushed himself up so he was sitting a bit more straight and he rolled his shoulders back a few times; I could hear the tiny crackles and pops of his spine. Finally he looked over toward Jenna and I and as his eyes landed on my own, I saw his lips fall into a deep frown.

"You're awake," he said with a solemn voice.

I nodded and opened my mouth to respond, but Jenna interrupted.

"Detective Salvatore, now that you and Elena are both awake I ask that you please explain to her the new rules. I'll be back in a bit to check on her." Without turning to acknowledge me any further, Jenna turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

I looked back to Damon. He was staring down at the floor, his brow furrowed in thought. His hands were folded in his lap and his thumbs were rubbing his skin.

The silence grew uncomfortable so I turned my focus away from him. Although the bed was tilted up so I wasn't flat, it still wasn't enough for me to actually sit comfortably. Normally, there was a remote control attached to the bed that controlled the beds' movements. I tried searching for the controller by simply turning my head, but I realized the remote was normally hanging from a tether. I bent my torso to the left to see if it was hanging down and when I did, the needle in my arm yanked under my skin. I cried out in pain and quickly righted myself.

Damon was by my side nearly instantly, patting the needle back down and adjusting the tube. He then picked up the hanging remote control and pressed the up button. I hadn't realized he had been watching me search for the controller. Very gradually, a whirring motor forced the upper part of my bed to lift. When I was sitting up completely, Damon dropped the controller and walked back to his seat.

I bit down on my lower lip and stared at the place on my arm he had touched. When the silence had become too much, I decided to break it.

"What new rules?" was the question I chose to start with.

He sighed and looked over at me. His eyes held all the pain I'm sure I was supposed to be feeling and shame washed through me.

"Why?" he asked quietly.

Automatically I turned my gaze away. "Why what?"

"Don't act stupid, Elena. Why did you do it?"

His tone angered me and I glared back at him. "Because you put me in this place."

As soon as I said the word "you," the sorrow in his eyes deepened and I was instantly ashamed of using a low blow such as that. None of this was really Damon's fault, but I also didn't want to admit it was my own.

He shook his head slightly. "This has nothing to do with me, Elena." The look in his eyes told me he didn't entirely believe that statement.

I scoffed. "Would I be here, in this situation right now had you not brought me here, Damon?"

His eyes hardened slightly. "You would be dead."

I narrowed my eyes even more and spoke through gritted teeth. "Which is exactly where I wanted to be. Hence my wrists."

He bent forward and held his head the palm of his hands, his elbows propped on his knees. "Elena, I just don't understand. I'm trying to, I swear I am, but I just don't get it." He looked back up at me and my heart tore as I saw the glistening of tears in his eyes. "I'm trying to help you. I'm doing everything in my power to help you and then you try to kill yourself." His brow furrowed. "Just help me understand. I don't want to go through this again."

"Again?" I asked. I had never put him through anything like this before.

He sighed and leaned back in the chair. "Katherine killed herself, Elena. I found her in a bathtub full of her own blood, two slashes on both wrists." A single tear rolled down his cheek and my chest tightened. His eyes were far away as he spoke. "Walking into your room and finding you like that…it was a nightmare, Elena. Every single haunting dream I've had about Katherine was being played out in front of me all over again. There was blood everywhere, just like the night I found Katherine."

A sudden flash of my father entered my mind. I knew exactly how something as simple as blood could be the focus of every nightmare.

I searched my mind for something to say, maybe something that would comfort him slightly, but I could find nothing. Instead my only response was, "I'm sorry."

He tilted his head. "You're sorry?" I could hear anger seeping into his tone. "Sorry for what? For being an idiot? For trying to kill yourself?"

"No," I replied quickly. "I'm not sorry for that. I did it and I won't take it back. I am sorry, however, for making you feel how you feel right now."

Abruptly, Damon stood and walked toward me. He sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed the sides of my faces with his hands.

The beeping on the monitor sped up and I wished with all my might it would shut up.

"Why the hell can't you see your potential, Elena?" he asked, his eyes boring intensely into mine.

"Damon, I don't –"

He interrupted me. "Stop it! You do have potential, Elena! More than anyone I've ever met!" I could feel his hands shaking against my cheeks. "If you would just let yourself get better, you could do great things!"

"Damon, let me go," I whispered, trying to pull my face away.

"Please, Elena. Just try to get better."

"Let me go," I repeated.

His hands fell from my face and his shoulder sagged lower, a dejected expression crossing over his face.

The beeping was growing extraordinarily loud in my ears, getting faster each second. With a huff, I ripped the connection from my arm and the monitor began a low, flat line noise.

Damon reached up and flicked the off switch on the monitor before moving back to the chair. As he sat down, I could tell the energy had run out of him. His face was pale beneath his dark hair and he just looked…sad.

I lifted the quilted blanket and slowly began to pick at a frayed corner. "So what are the new rules?" I asked, wanting desperately to change the subject.

Really, I didn't know what rules they could introduce to me that would make anything worse than it already was. I had only been at the facility for two days and hadn't earned any privileges that could be taken away. Sometime during the first day Jenna mentioned to me that some of the other residents, after sobering up, were allowed to walk around the grounds, make phone calls, use the entertainment room freely, and take trips off the grounds every now and then. She told me this as she was trying to convince me to eat my morning breakfast.

Damon adjusted his position in his chair before speaking. "Basically all the same stuff. You're not allowed to make phone calls nor have visitors other than myself. The only reason I'm allowed to see you is because I'm in charge of your file at the station. For the time being, you will be confined to your room at all hours. Should you need to go to the restroom, buzz Jenna and she'll accompany you."

"Accompany me?" I asked disbelievingly.

He nodded. "Along with that, you have been assigned to 24 hour watch until further notice."

My eyes grew wide and my jaw fell slack. "What does that mean?"

"Someone will be watching you every minute of the day."

"What!" I gasped.

"It's to make sure you don't pull a stunt like this again," he continued. "Once a day you will be taken to see the resident therapist. I advise you use your time with her productively."

I shook my head slightly. "Damon, I don't want to do this." I felt my face heat and the prickling of tears at my eyes at the mention of a therapist.

"You don't have a choice."

I looked away from him and pulled my lower lip in between my tip, trying my best not to let the tears spill over. I wasn't ready to see any kind of therapist. Seeing a therapist meant bringing up old memories, memories reserved for my nightmares.

"Elena, how are you feeling right now?" he asked suddenly.

"Pissed off. I really don't want to do this." I didn't bother looking over at him. In my mind I was beginning to run through ways I could avoid the therapy sessions.

"No, I mean physically. How is your body feeling?"

"To be perfectly honest, I can't really feel shit. I'm sure this medicine they're pumping into me has something to do with that."

"But you're not portraying any obvious signs of your withdrawal. Do you realize that?"

My brow furrowed and I looked over at him. He was right. I wasn't shaking, I didn't have a headache, I didn't feel nauseous. The only pain I felt was a dull throb around my wrists.

This was…different.

A small smile curled the edges of his lips. "With heroin withdrawals, the major symptoms peak between the first 24 and 72 hours. When they take you off the medicine, some of the milder symptoms may show back up, but for the most part you're over the hill. You've never made it this far before. Now it's just fixing you, Elena, not the drug." His eyes shone a bit brighter as he spoke, sanguinity replacing his sorrow. "You can do this, Elena. As much as you don't want to, you can. You just have to try."

I sighed. "Damon, I still don't understand."

"Understand what?"

"Why you're here. I don't understand why you're trying so hard. Before the other day, I had no idea you even remotely liked me. I mean, I get it, I look like your dead ex, but…" I looked away from him, "…why does it feel like there's something more?"

I heard him inhale deeply. "I don't know," he responded. "I really don't get it, either. I meet girls like you all the time, it's part of my job. But I've always felt something. The night I found you in the alley triggered… something. Suddenly, all I care about is getting you better."

I glanced over at him and saw he was looking away as well. I'm sure admitting something as deep as that was uncomfortable.

I nodded slightly to myself. "Okay," was my only answer.

I realized it was time to stop pushing Damon away. If he was convinced I could get better and he was willing to help me, maybe it was possible.

The least I could do was try.

Day 8

I was able to go back to a regular room on my 6th day at the rehabilitation center. Honestly, I would've preferred staying in the hospital ward.

I had been moved to a room that had four cameras installed in each of the corners. Everywhere I moved, I could hear the tiny sounds of the cameras following.

It was maddening. It didn't matter what I was doing, sleeping or changing my clothes, they were watching.

Jenna was just as bad as the cameras. Every time she brought me my meal, she sat there until I was finished eating. When I went to the bathroom, she did the same. Whenever she was around me, her eyes stayed locked on me at all times.

My arms were healing nicely. Jenna came and changed the wrapping on them twice a day.

The only symptoms of my withdrawals that had returned were a slight headache and the lack of an appetite. Since returning to my room, I hadn't noticed any signs of shakes or tremors. I was grateful for that. Jenna gave me medicine each night to help with my newly found insomnia. I was not grateful for that.

Damon hadn't been to visit since the third day here. Jenna told me she heard things were getting pretty crazy around the station. Apparently, Vicki wasn't the last victim of whoever killed her. Jenna said Damon was running himself ragged working on the case, but he called each morning and evening to check up with Jenna on how I was doing.

Knowing he was checking in made me nervous. I was finding that I was afraid of disappointing him, which was an irrational feeling.

Today I decided I was just going to lie around and do nothing. I wasn't near as agitated by the cameras when I was simply lying there.

As I stared up and made patterns out of the textured ceiling, I heard the handle of the metal door being turned.

I sat up and Jenna walked into the room. My brow furrowed and I looked over to my alarm clock. She had already been in that morning to change my bandages and I had already had breakfast. It was now nearing 11 AM and lunch wasn't supposed to come until 12:30ish.

"Elena," she began, "today is your first therapy session with Miss Bennett."

My heart sank into my stomach. "Um, I'm really not ready for that."

"You don't have a choice," Jenna sighed. I was really getting tired of people saying those words to me. "You can come willingly or I can call for assistance."

I cursed under my breath and shoved off the bed. If I was being made to go, then I would go, but they couldn't force me to talk.

Jenna led me down to the second floor and into a brightly colored office.

Two oversized, overstuffed yellow armchairs faced one another in the center of the room.

A pretty woman with a dark complexion and flowing brown hair was sitting in one of the chairs and smiled at me. "Hello, Elena," she greeted me. She didn't appear to be much older than I was.

I looked back at Jenna and she held out her hand, indicating I should go and have a seat.

With a heavy sigh, I crossed the carpeted floor and sat down across from the woman.

The woman looked to Jenna. "I'll let you know when we're done here."

Jenna simply nodded and shut the door.

The lady turned back to me and before she could speak again, I interrupted. "Miss Bennett," I started, recalling her name from when Jenna had said it, "I really don't want to be here. I'm just getting that out there right now. I hope you have no expectations of me because I'm not going to meet them."

Her smile was unwavering. "Well, Elena, first off, you can call me Bonnie instead of Miss Bennett. Second of all, no one really wants to be here. This place is meant to deal with the issues no one really wants to talk about." She tilted her head slightly to the side. "And I have no expectations of you."

I folded my arms across my chest and nodded once. "Okay, then." I didn't like the fact that I was always so defensive, but it was how I had learned to survive.

"So," she began, reaching beside her for a large yellow legal pad and a pen, "What would you like to talk about, Elena?"

I let out one humorless chuckle. "Not a damn thing. And if you're waiting for me to want to talk about something, we'll be here all day."

I could hear the scratching of her pen as she began to write across the paper. After several minutes, she finally stopped writing and sat them down in her lap. She looked back up at me with that same, overly friendly smile. "I see you've been here a total of 8 days. Let's start with that. How are things going here?"

My jaw fell slack slightly as I stared at her. "Seriously?" I asked. "I'm sure you know everything that has happened with me over the past 8 days."

She giggled a little. "Well, yes, I've read things from your file, but I want to know how things are going from your perspective."

"They're probably going as well from my perspective as they are from yours," I answered flatly. "I'm sure those files say things are going like shit and I would have to agree."

"Okay, well, why are things going like 'shit'?" I could tell she didn't curse often. The word sounded odd as it rolled off her tongue.

I sighed. "Well, let's see. I haven't gotten high in over a week. I was tackled by a detective and had a seizure. I slit my wrists with a fucking butter knife. Hmm, I wonder why things are going like shit."

She smiled to herself and began to write again. "So, why don't we talk about what landed you in here."

"I'm a junkie. Next question."

She chuckled again. "No, I'm well aware of your drug addiction, I mean what's behind that?" She sat the paper down and looked up again. "Why did you start using?"

I narrowed my eyes. "It seemed like fun."

"Now, Elena," she pursed her lips for a moment. "There's always something that prompts the drug use. Usually people are running from something, either their present or their past. Which was it for you?"

Her questions were starting to annoy me and I could feel my anger beginning to bubble just beneath the surface. "Neither."

"You don't have to lie to me," she smiled, leaning forward and folding her hands together. "My sole purpose of being here is to help you. To let you discover why this drug entered your life and what you need to do to make sure it stays away."

"What if I don't what it to stay away?" I asked. "After 30 days I'm free to walk out of here. What if all I want to do when I leave is go get high?"

A small cocky grin lit up her lips and she leaned back again, picking up her legal pad. "I guess we'll find out how you feel about that in 22 days, won't we?" We sat in silence for several more minutes before she spoke again. "So, since we can't talk about how things are going now or why you're here, let's just talk about each other. Tell me about yourself, Elena."

"What do you want to know?"

She shrugged. "Whatever you want me to know. Let's start with the basics. Where did you grow up?"

"Here."

She nodded to herself and began writing again. "You like living in Mystic Falls?"

"It's just peachy."

She grinned. "It is nice, isn't it?" I was really getting annoyed with her happy-go-lucky demeanor.

"And you're family?" she continued, "Do they still live in Mystic Falls?"

My hands clenched into tight fists against my sides. We were not going there. "No."

"Mhm," she nodded again. "And where do they live?"

As the words left her lips, I suppressed the urge to scream. Instead I stood swiftly to my feet and started for the door. "I'll see you next time, Bonnie." Her name fell from my mouth in a bitter tone.

"Wait, wait, wait," she called, sitting the legal pad and pen down and following after me. "I apologize for whatever it is I said. Please, have a seat and stay a bit longer." She reached out and grabbed my upper arm. Automatically I swung around and shoved her hand away.

"Do not touch me," I spat, glaring at her. I turned back around and threw open the door.

I stormed down the hallway and I could tell she hadn't followed me further. As I neared the elevator, it chimed and the doors opened. Jenna was standing inside. Bonnie must have called her as soon as I left.

"Finished?" Jenna asked, holding a hand out to keep the elevator doors open.

"Fuck you," I mumbled and stepped inside. I kept my arms folded across my chest and I stared down at the floor.

I guess I wasn't really up for trying after all.

A/N: Let me start this by saying that I am truly overwhelmed by the responses I got for the last chapter. I'm so glad that I was able to connect with so many of my readers on such a personal level.

Also, I want to thank you all for the reviews thus far. I'm overjoyed that the story is being received well.

So, let me know what you thought of this chapter. Elena's really just being a bitch, right? ;P

I hope to get the next update out soon, but we'll see how that goes. This semester at my university started back the other day and I was recently proposed to, so I'm at the beginning stages of wedding planning, so I have quite a bit on my plate. Lol. But I will write every opportunity I get and try to crank out some chapters.

See you guys next chapter. :)