I sat with my eyes trained down at my lap as I gently massaged the red marks from my wrists. The handcuffs that had detained me were now sitting on top of my bedside table, mocking me with their steely glint.

Damon sat in a metal chair brought in by Jenna on the opposite side of the room near the door. He was leaning forward slightly, his shoulders sagging an inch, a lit cigarette dangling precariously between his lips. Every other minute he would inhale deeply from the stick, remove it from his mouth to exhale a cloud of smoke, then hold it with his lips again.

Whenever I chanced a glance up, I was met with his ice blue eyes staring bullets into my body. I would immediately look back down and shift uncomfortably beneath his gaze.

It felt as if we went on that way for hours, though it was certainly only minutes that passed.

After Damon had picked me up, he drove me directly back to the facility. I was slightly surprised he hadn't simply taken me to jail. Being brought here meant that even if he was mat at me, he wasn't mad enough to give up on me. Something inside of him still beckoned him to help me.

As the strong stench of the cigarette wafted below my nose, I finally decided to speak up.

"You're not allowed to smoke inside the building," I told him matter-of-factly. I looked up at his face and in response to my statement, he took a deep drag, then parted his lips slightly to allow the smoke to billow out. The hardened lines of his face remained unchanging. I blanched and looked away again. I wasn't used to this sort of treatment, but I didn't deny that I deserved it. I wrung my fingers together nervously. My high was nearly gone from the hotel and I could feel my muscles wanting to crash. I was jittery all over and the silence was making it worse. "Say something," I requested quietly.

He took the cigarette between two fingers and tapped it so that the ashes floated down to the pristine white floor. He sucked in another inhale from it before dropping it and stomping it out with the toe of his shoe. As he exhaled, he stood, hooking his thumbs into the pockets of his dark jeans and he walked over to the window.

Outside the sun was just barely above the hills in the distance, casting a pinkish-orange morning glow over the sleepy town of Mystic Falls. Through the window the world outside seemed calm, a stark contrast to the turmoil currently swelling inside of me as I waited for him to speak.

He crossed his arms over his chest and turned toward me, leaning back against the wall. "What do you want me to say?" he finally asked. Nothing about his posture or tone gave away what he might be thinking.

I looked back down at my hands and shrugged. "What's going to happen to me?"

"You currently have 12 days of treatment left. Considering you fucked up everything you worked toward during the first 17, I have a feeling these last days won't amount to shit. But you'll finish out the next week and a half and then Jenna and her team will decide what needs to happen from there."

I nodded, not sure how else to respond. I could sense that this was not the time to try to argue with my punishment.

A quiet tension settled over the room as we returned to silence.

My leg bounced up and down quickly and my fingernails began to drag across the surface of my skin as an insufferable itch started crawling over me. I sighed and clenched my fists tightly, recognizing the signs of my old friend withdrawal. I could feel the tips of my nails digging into my palms as I suppressed the urge to scratch.

Suddenly Damon's shoes came into view and I looked up at him.

"Here," he said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wrapped Dove chocolate. Timidly, I reached up and plucked it from his palm, purposely avoiding contact with his skin. "Jenna said you might need it," he muttered before moving away from me again.

I quickly unwrapped the candy and popped it into my mouth. As the smooth chocolate began to melt against my tongue, I sighed and let my body relax slightly.

Suddenly the sound of the metal chair being dragged across the floor echoed in the room and my head snapped up. Damon stopped nearly two feet from me and sat down. I shifted again where I sat, feeling uneasy with his proximity.

He was silent for several more minutes before finally speaking. "Why'd you run?" he asked bluntly. His eyes were piercing and intense and I felt as if they were setting me on fire.

I swallowed the nearly entirely melted chocolate and thought about how to answer his question. "I didn't want to come back here," I finally answered.

"Don't fuck with me right now, Elena. Tell me the truth." His tone was bitter and my mind automatically switched to the defensive. I never liked to be talked at authoritatively and that wasn't going to change now.

"That wasn't a lie," I bit out at him. And it wasn't. I really hadn't wanted to come back here. But it also wasn't the source of why I ran.

"Why didn't you want to come back here, then?"

"Is this a place you'd like to be?" I asked derisively. "Because you're more than welcome to take my place."

"Things seemed to have been going fine for you, though," he said with a slight shake of his head. "Isn't that why you came to the station in the first place? Because you were progressing in your treatment and you knew giving us that new information and giving up that heroin was the right thing to do?"

I narrowed my eyes slightly. "I came to the station to fuck you. All of that other stuff was just a means to that goal."

His lips pressed into a hard line and he sat back in his chair, his eyes studying me closely.

When several minutes passed and he offered no response, I laughed quietly to myself. "God, Damon, don't make it so obvious that it was bad for you." I stood up and walked past him to the window. "Look, I fucking apologize for putting you in that position, okay? I'm sorry I forced you to have sex that you'd regret. Now, if you're not taking me to jail, I'd really just like you to leave so I can start my recovery, again, and get the hell out of this place." I folded my arms and looked out at the trees rustling in the wind. There was no reason for him to stay and question me if he wasn't taking me away.

"Is that what you think?" he asked and I turned to face him. "You think I regret sleeping with you?"

"It's written all over your fucking face. It is now just like it was then."

He abruptly stood and crossed the floor, stopping mere inches from my body. Immediately my heartbeat quickened as I looked up at him, my back pressed against the smooth surface of the window. "You're so fucking stupid," he mumbled as he stared down his nose at me. My brow furrowed and I opened my mouth to respond, but his lips crashing down against my own silenced me.

My breath was instantly taken away as I melted into his kiss. His hands came up and roughly held the sides of my face as he molded our lips together. He stepped forward, trapping me between his body and the window and he tilted my head to deepen the kiss. His silky tongue ran along my lower lip before pushing its way into my mouth and exploring my taste.

When he finally pulled away, his exhales were jagged and his eyes were closed. I attempted to catch my breath as I stared up into his face, shock rendering me speechless.

Slowly, his eyelids opened, revealing the deep blue orbs that I loved…

That I…

That I…

My jaw fell slack as the words slammed into me forcefully while simultaneously caressing every inch of me.

I loved him.

His thumbs began to gently stroke my cheeks as he gazed into my eyes. "Listen to me," he started quietly, "I do not regret fucking you. I swear to god you were the best I've ever had. I regret the timing. You are not capable of coming into this without turning me into your new addiction. I want to be more than that for you, but right now you're not capable of accepting me as more. So whatever's been happening here, between us, has to stop until you're better. Do you understand?"

"What if I never get better?" I whispered.

His eyes closed for a moment and the muscles in his jaw flexed. He let out a deep sigh before looking at me again. "Then this just can't happen."

The words caused an odd pang to shoot in my chest and I dropped my eyes to the floor. If I didn't get better, he wouldn't be with me. I finally had a concrete ultimatum – kick the heroin or lose Damon.

I really wasn't prepared to do either.

…

Later that evening I sat in the corner of my room, my knees pulled to my chest and my arms wrapped around them. I was rocking back and forth as cold sweat rolled lazily down my hot skin.

I had forgotten how bad withdrawals sucked.

Jenna had refused to give me any medicine that would make the process any easier and she had forbidden any of the staff to answer my intercom calls, but instead to send her to my room. She was pissed that I had run from the station. She hadn't said as much, but I could tell by the way she looked at me. She was hurt that I did it. She had trusted me.

Another chill spasmed through me and I clenched my eyes tight, leaning my head back against the wall. A painful moan ripped through my chest and spilled from my lips.

I breathed heavily though my nose, trying my best to concentrate on calming my body.

Suddenly an image of my mother flashed in my mind and I clung to it, hoping it would help me in some way.

She had been a beautiful woman while she was alive. Her dark brown hair had been the exact shade of mine. It was long and straight and I remembered the way it would tickle my nose when she carried me to bed. Her eyes had been a gorgeous color of brown. They were always so warm and comforting and made me feel safe.

Until that night.

That night they had been stripped of all their safety. The last time I made eye contact with her, I was met with desperation, fear and sorrow. Even she couldn't pretend that things were going to be okay. She knew how it was going to end.

I spent the rest of the night vomiting into a trashcan.

…

Day 19

The metal door clicked open and Jenna walked into the room with a tray full of food. She sat it on the bedside table then turned to leave.

"Jenna?" I called her name softly, rolling onto my side on the bed. My voice was raspy from the sore throat I currently had and my body was too tired to sit up.

She propped her hands on her hips and slowly turned toward me. "Yes?"

"I need to talk to Bonnie."

"Why?"

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. I had thought about my course of action the entire night and with every convulsion that tore through my aching body from the withdrawal, I was pushed closer to the decision.

It was time to do this for Ric.

It was time to do this for Matt.

It was time to do this for my brother.

It was time to do this for my parents.

It was time to do this for Damon.

It was time to do this for me.

"I'm ready to talk about what happened to me."

A/N: Ooooookay, guys. I expected this chapter to be much longer and to post much sooner, but life had other ideas. I can't even express how stressful it's been.

Let's keep our fingers crossed that the next chapter will come sooner. In the mean time, let me know what you thought of this chapter. :)