Wow, 100+ reviews! Thank you guys so much!

Boring courtroom drama ends with this one, I swear.

Go to my profile, there are spoiler pictures I made for the next chapter.

They take their shots, but we're bulletproof

I know places

And you know, for me it's always you

~ I Know Places by Taylor Swift

~ My Best Mistake ~

Christmas holidays were nearing. The weather had gotten cold; temperatures dropped dangerously below the zero and the town was constantly showered with countless of little snowflakes, turning it into a snow globe of exquisite beauty.

That horror show of a trial was reaching its end and I couldn't be happier. Damon and I even had sex; it was right after coming home after Katherine's testimony. He took me completely by surprise when he initiated it, but I wasn't one to complain. I was glad he was finally showing interest, expressing a desire for me, for what I've been missing for all this time.

It happened only once, but it was a start. After all, Rome wasn't built in a day.

Today it was Jeremy's turn to give a statement and I was eager to hear what he had to say. I was actually surprised when I found out my parents had added his name to their list of witnesses. They never had a good relationship. They never had any kind of relationship, for that matter.

But then again, this is Jeremy we're talking about. That boy sucked at relationships, both the friendly and romantic kind, even more than I did.

"Mr. Gilbert," Lockwood started ever so smugly, an expression of his I'd gotten used to. I was starting to feel sorry for Tyler. It must have been a nightmare to live with and be fathered by someone so vicious. "How is your relationship with Miss Gilbert?"

"She's my sister. We… we're good, I guess," Jeremy said awkwardly. If by good he meant saying hi on the way out the house and occasionally greeting me at school (when he happened to be there, as he rarely even showed up), then yes, we were good.

"And Mr. Salvatore?"

"We haven't really talked. He was usually in Elena's room, so I didn't see much of him."

"What about your parents? How would you describe your relationship with them?"

Mom and dad looked at him, anticipating his reply, probably expecting to hear praises on their great parenting skills that consisted of not giving a damn where their children were most of the time, and beating the shit out of their daughter's slave whilst holding her back and forcing her to watch in anguish.

If this was a horror movie, Jeremy and I would probably be a pair of serial killers on a murder spree, and our terrible backgrounds with neglectful and abusive parents would be used to justify our vile actions to the viewers.

What Jeremy did say surprised not only our parents, but everyone else present as well.

"There is no relationship. They're rarely, if ever, home, and even when they are, all we ever do is argue. I spend more time at my friends' homes than my own."

If looks could kill, then the one on my dad's face would have certainly murdered Jeremy in cold blood. Mom just put her head down, her cheeks red with embarrassment, regretting the decision to bring him into this.

But Jeremy wasn't done yet. Not by a longshot.

"They never listen to what I have to say. I'm out of the house for days and they don't even bother to check up on me. They usually appear at my friends' doorstep a week later and make up some bullshit apologies and promises they never keep just to get me to come back to make themselves look good."

Lockwood requested a moment to consult with his clients, which the judge happily allowed. After some whispering (and judging by the look of anger on my father's face, words said were better off as whispers no one but them could hear) he stepped up and said in a neutral, emotionless tone: "No further questions for the witness, Your Honor."

"My brother told me many times he's badass," I told Damon quietly, wearing a smile on my face, remembering all the times Jeremy and I played as kids and he proclaimed himself a badass. I felt like I owed him an apology for never believing him.

Damon's face lit up before replying, a finger placed over his lips to shush me: "Badasses don't say that."

I let out a small, barely audible chuckle. It was such a Damon thing to say. He may have played it cool, but I could see that he, too, was grateful for Jeremy's testimony in his own, special Damon way people could rarely understand. Even I, the person who knew him best, sometimes found it hard to decipher his mixed signals and double meanings.

"Mr. Gilbert, would you describe your parents as abusive?" Elijah asked, taking over the questioning, and I was quick to avert my eyes to Jeremy, granting him my full attention.

"They never hit me, if that's what you're asking," Jeremy replied honestly. If there was one thing our parents didn't do wrong, it was raising us without ever turning to corporal punishment.

"How about emotionally? Were they neglectful?"

"Yes. I never really felt like I could talk to them. I rarely even see them. They're always at work."

"How would you describe their treatment of slaves?"

"Cruel. Their slaves are punished for the smallest of mistakes. They always seem to be in pain whenever I see them."

"So would your say your parents are no strangers to mistreatment of slaves?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever witnessed their… outbursts?"

"Many times. That was one of the reasons I started hanging out at my friends' homes. I couldn't bear to look at what they were doing."

When I think about it, it makes perfect sense. I remember being there when my parents beat the hell out of Isobel; it was two years ago, but the memory is still fresh in my mind. Jeremy stood in the corner, weeping, begging them to stop, but they just kept on going, hitting her, breaking her, ignoring my brother and my pleads for mercy on the poor woman's behalf.

It was around that time he started coming home from school late, staying out till early morning hours, hanging out with people he shouldn't have even looked at, and making out and maybe even going all the way (I didn't really want to know the details) with girls he barely knew.

"No further questions," Elijah said. "Thank you, Mr. Gilbert."

"Can I just say something?" Jeremy inquired, earning him puzzled glances from everyone in the room.

"Go on," Judge Cooke reluctantly said.

"I don't see my sister that often, especially lately, but I've never seen her this happy. I may not know Damon at all, but he doesn't seem like a bad guy. If he was, my sister wouldn't have fallen in love with him. I know that much. What my parents did was cruel, and they deserve every punishment they get. No human being, slave or not, deserves such treatment. So Elena, Damon, good luck. I wish you well."

If I could, I would've hugged him. This was the closest my brother and I have been in ages, and only now I realized just how much I've missed him. Damon was beaming, radiating with joy, his hand squeezing mine for a change.

My parents and Lockwood looked pissed, their glares murderous. Sucks to have the tables turned, doesn't it? Now they know how Damon and I felt listening to their and their people's lies.

The day has finally come – it was time for me to tell my side of the story, time for everyone to listen to what I had to say. And I had a lot to say.

"Miss Gilbert, how did you come into possession of Mr. Salvatore?" Lockwood asked with obvious dislike of me.

"He was my birthday present," I replied.

"Who had given him to you?"

"My parents," I said, frowning. I had a really bad feeling about this.

"Alright," Lockwood said, taking a short breath. "How was your relationship with Mr. Salvatore before you became romantically involved?"

"Friendly," I said. It wasn't really a lie, more like half-truth.

"So you never had arguments? Disagreements? He never disobeyed?"

"We had our differences," I admitted. From the corner of my eye I could see Damon smirk and I just wanted to smack him in the shoulder (in a friendly way, of course) for being such an ass.

"Our sources say he was out of control."

"I could control him." I was certain lying in court was some kind of crime, but I didn't want them to get the wrong idea. Although I could partly control him, I never had full control over him. There was always something he did that I had no way of stopping, an action that would've earned him quite a whipping had he happened to have a different master.

I could see a trace of a smirk on Damon's lips, no doubt thinking of other types of control that I had over him and that he wished for me to have. I blushed, pushing the embarrassing thoughts aside. This was not the time nor place for such mental images. Damn him and his perverted attitude.

"Was Mr. Salvatore ever violent towards you?"

"Never," I fired. If anything, I was the violent one, slapping him to break his heart like a cold-hearted bitch I was.

"Is it true that he had been caught stealing from Mr. Gilbert twice?"

"Yes."

"Is it true that he had been disciplined in both these instances?"

"Against my will, but yes."

"Against your will? Clarify," Lockwood demanded.

"I told my parents I would discipline him if necessary," I said with a small sigh.

"And did you?"

"I talked to him about it, yes."

"But did he suffer any consequences for his actions?"

"Was my parents whipping the hell out of him not enough of a consequence?" I snapped.

"Let me rephrase that," Lockwood offered. "Did he suffer any consequences for his actions at your hand?"

"I don't practice corporal punishment," I said proudly, to which everyone, including the judge, gasped in shock. What the hell was wrong with those people?

"But your parents do?" Lockwood inquired.

"Unfortunately."

"So let me get this straight: you discipline your slave by talking to him?"

"That is correct."

"That would be all, Your Honor," Lockwood said in a curt manner, prompting Elijah to take over.

"Miss Gilbert, is it true that you are opposed to slavery?"

"Yes, it is."

"Were your parents aware of your views?"

"Yes, they were."

"Why did they get you a slave, then?"

"They wanted me to learn responsibility," I replied, remembering the very first time I saw Damon. He was so pretty, so elegant and handsome, the most beautiful human being I've ever seen. I remember thinking that, if I was into slavery, he would be my first choice. I still stand by it – more than anything else now that I'm in love with him.

"How was their treatment of Mr. Salvatore?"

"Harsh."

"What did you tell them?"

"That I would punish him if necessary because he's mine."

"And did they listen?"

"No."

"How did you react when they first disciplined him without your permission?"

"I was angry, disappointed… sad. I was mostly worried for him."

"What condition was he in?"

"Bad. He was bleeding and had cuts all over." I pointed to my body, pictures of Damon's horrific injuries flashing before my eyes as I gestured exactly where I remembered them to be and what condition they left him in.

"Did he receive medical attention?"

"He said he'd be fine without," I said. Tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill, and I took a deep, sharp breath.

Relax, Elena. You can do this. It's the past. He's safe now.

If only my body was willing to listen.

"And what about the second time? What did you tell your parents?"

"I gave them one last warning."

"You mentioned an incident during which you were struck. Can you tell us more about it?"

"My dad got mad at Damon for speaking without permission and wanted to… discipline him, but I jumped in the way."

"Why?"

"I wanted to protect him."

"And the latest incident, the one we're all here for; can you tell us about it?"

I allowed myself a long breath before speaking. "My parents walked in on Damon and me having… sex." I could see Damon smirk again, a short inch away from a chuckle. Why did he have to be such a pervert? It was already uncomfortable for me to talk about it as it was. "They thought I was using him for fun, and when I told them I loved him, they freaked out."

"So they were not supportive of your relationship?"

"Saying they were not supportive would be an understatement," I snarked.

"What happened afterwards?"

Flashbacks came flooding in, bringing back memories of pain and suffering, emotions I never wanted to experience again, pictures I never wanted to be a witness to again for the rest of my life.

"Damon was there during the argument," I said, gulping. I looked over to him and he slightly nodded, giving a small, but decisive approval to share the story of that evening of horror. "My dad tried to hit me and Damon stepped in front of me to protect me. There was shouting and screaming and… dad said horrible things and…"

Tears fell down my cheeks like a waterfall, unstoppable. I buried my head in my hands for a moment, taking a few breaths, trying to get my breathing under control. My heart was racing, a ticking time bomb ready to explode. I didn't want to remember. I didn't want to relive those events, see those pictures, feel Damon's fresh, warm blood on my skin all over again.

I didn't want to feel so useless for being such a failure, because I should have protected him. If only I fought harder.

"Mom restrained me," I continued, my voice shaky, eyes red and puffy, tears still falling. "I tried to free myself, but she was too strong. Dad was whipping Damon and I begged him to stop, but he wouldn't listen. He just kept hitting him and…" I sobbed, hands covering my face, nails digging into my skin like tiny, crescent-shaped knives. I wept as though my life depended on it, the entirety of me shaking. "And then they just left him like that and I… I called 911 and… There was so much blood. He… he looked like a corpse… I couldn't do anything… Oh, god!"

"No further questions," Elijah said.

"Thirty minute break," Judge Cooke announced.

Elijah helped me to my feet and I fell straight into Damon's open arms, enveloped in a hug I wished would last forever. "Shh, it's okay," he said tenderly. Still, I couldn't calm down, couldn't force my body to relax when all those painful memories were back, fresh in my mind, eating up at me like vultures, ripping me apart in ways that couldn't hurt more.

"You're making a mistake Elena," my mom said as she passed by me.

"Just so you know, once this is all over, we will officially disown you," dad growled before following her.

Those were the best news I've heard all day. I wanted nothing of theirs anymore, nothing to remind me of their vicious nature and macabre tendencies. Having their DNA was enough. If there was a way to change it, trust me, I'd be first in line.

"Calm down," Damon said sweetly, ignoring my parents' remarks. He gently cupped my face and I looked him in the eye, my vision blurred by tears. "Let's get you cleaned up."

He took me to the bathroom, wiping away my tears ever so delicately, as if I was a fragile flower about to break to the simplest of touches. I've never seen him this concerned, this worried. It was cute in a weird kind of way, maybe even sweet because he just didn't seem like the kind of guy who would do this.

"Look at me," he whispered, and I did just that. "You're okay now. I'm here. I got you." He put his arms around me again, wrapping me in a protective hug.

"I should've fought harder," I wept.

"No," he said, gently tapping my back. "You were amazing."

"I should've saved you."

"Hey, hey, listen to me," he cooed. "You did the best you could. There is nothing to feel guilty about. I'm alright. See? Everything's healed, fresh as a daisy," he joked.

Letting the smallest of smiles creep onto my lips I pulled him into a kiss, taking him by surprise. I instantly felt better, at least a bit; it seemed his lips had healing properties I knew just how to use to my advantage, making them my pleasure, my cure, my everything.

"What was that for?" he asked as we parted, panting.

"I had a really crappy day and I needed it."

Chuckling, we dove into another kiss, this one stronger, rougher than before, and before we knew it we were going at it in a bathroom stall in a place I was pretty sure had laws against having sex in. But it didn't matter. We were important here; our passion, our love, comfort only we could provide for each other, comfort that I so desperately yearned for after such a sickening day.

If this is what it's like to be in the wrong, then I will keep making mistakes, I promised myself. Because Damon couldn't possibly be anything but my best one.

We'll get some action in the next chapter. It's one of my favorites. Review and I'll post it before you know it!