Aren't I rubbish. Sorry for the absence, if you're still here, I have many poor excuses. One of which being I still haven't watched the last two episodes. I know what happens. I don't think I can bear it.

Anyway...

.

.

I hated MRI scans. They were claustrophic and noisy and somewhat terrifying at times. Lying flat on my back as the 'bed' was slowly rolled through the machine; I gripped my hands together on my stomach. Flashbacks to the very same machine telling me the worst not a year ago, now I was here again. When would it be over? Couldn't I just be healthy? Was that really too much to ask? But then...well, a part of me knew that it was better me than someone else...one of my friends or my family. At least I was prepared.

They'd given me headphones to wear as if it'd block out the loud tapping of the electric current in the scanner coils being turned on and off…on and off…on and off. How long would it go on this time? The first times I'd been put in one of these things it had taken almost ninety minutes and I tell you, it's bloody difficult to keep still for that long. Because you're not allowed to move, and every time you do the radiographer in the next room will tell you to stop. The worst thing was that he could see me through a little screen and I couldn't see thing; just the massive machine around me and all the wires.

Pathetically, I grumbled to myself about unnecessary traumas.

Thankfully it only lasted about thirty minutes. They say they can be anything from fifteen minutes to ninety depending on the size of the area being scanned so thirty seemed like a pretty long time considering they'd only told me they'd been looking at my brain. Either way, I was relieved when the voice came over the intercom to tell me they were all done. With poker faces on, no-one gave anything away as to what they'd discovered, if anything, and unsurprisingly that did little to soothe my building nerves.

Jeremy and I went to the hospital canteen after finishing, sitting in silence in the middle of the busy hall sipping that bitter coffee. I didn't even like coffee. The silence in the noisy room was awful though, I just don't think either of us knew where to start or what to say. Those words just kept spinning around my head; brain cancer. Life really was a bitch, wasn't it?

I didn't want to go back to his office but I had to, silently wishing once again that Jeremy wouldn't come too but I couldn't ask him not to. I couldn't say a thing. The fear of what was to come had my jaw locked shut and face blank. A part of me was assuring that it was going to be fine…that this was all just a big overreaction and the scans would prove that there was nothing wrong and it was just what I wanted to believe it was; a really bad migraine. But then the other part of me, the more persistent and believable side was just screaming that word at me, over and over again. Cancer, cancer, cancer

To tell the truth I phased out of the conversation just a few moments after he told us to take a seat in a undeniably saddened tone. I didn't want to know anymore. After all that I was deciding now that I'd much rather go on ignorant. Oblivion…what a blessing. For the mind to dwell a world away from pain…

"The scans have shown that you have a mass in your brain, by your temporal lobe," My eyes slid closed at the familiar words, no surprise, just disenchantment.

I knew it.

"It's fairly developed, but these types of tumours often go a long time unnoticed." There, he said it. Tumour.

I could feel Jeremy shaking his head beside me, not wanting to believe that this was really happening, "You did the right thing coming to see me." Opening my eyes, I just stared blindly into space, not entirely sure how to react to this news, "We'll have to do a biopsy to determine whether it's malignant or benign…" He faded off, clearly wanting to say something but unsure how to broach the subject, "Elena you might want to think about telling your parents. It's going to be expensive-"

"-I can afford it." Could I? I might have to go into my trust fund but it wasn't for nothing.

"Do you not think they deserve to know?"

"No."

I couldn't even be bothered to sugar-coat it. I had cancer again in the space of a year. What were the chances? "They never told me the first time." Jeremy said as if it was an excuse or justification and it was. We didn't tell him, we weren't going to tell them. At least not until we absolutely had to.

He let the subject drop and moved on to anticonvulsants and corticosteroids and all manner of strange sounding medications and treatments but I was barely listening, too lost in my own tumour-filled head. Goddammit just when I thought everything was looking up they went and threw something like this at me. How would I tell my parents about it? Would they even care? They'd probably let out exasperated sighs at yet another expense. I was, after all, nothing but a drain on their extensive bank accounts.

It was almost five o'clock when we stood up, moving towards the door of the office with him. Jeremy was discussing something with him while I followed quietly behind, eyes lowered as they opened the door, "The surgery will be scheduled sometime in the next couple of weeks, I'll let you know exactly when." He explained, holding the door open for me and I stopped on the other side as he went no further, looking up at him, "Just take it easy though. Your prescription will be ready to pick up at the pharmacy on the ground floor."

Nodding slowly, I gave a little shrug, "Yeah, thank you…for seeing me and all. I know I could've gone to see Dr Fell-"

"-No I'm glad you did; I'll be able to get you treated a lot faster than he would. Mystic Falls just doesn't have the resources." I could hardly argue, "I'll see you tomorrow Elena, Jeremy…make sure she takes it easy," he directed my brother who was sure to take every word of advice as law, "No exercise, no stress, no drinking, no arguing," Cue a pointed look…what could I say? Siblings fought over everything, "The anticonvulsants should prevent any further seizures but you can never be too careful."

Saying goodbye a moment later, he retreated back into his office and we made for the exit of the surgery and down to the pharmacy to collect yet another prescription. We barely got to the reception though before I heard my name being called by that oh-so familiar voice, looking up from the floor to see…Damon…staring at me in complete shock.

"Elena.." He exclaimed as I found myself rendered speechless, "What're you doing here?" He asked bemused, walking away from the reception desk where he'd been talking to Kimberly and towards me, pressing a kiss to my lips when he reached me but it was distracted. I couldn't ignore the concern in his eyes but I was just too shocked to form words.

"What're you doing here?"

His frown only deepened at my dazed question, barely noticing that I said the exact same thing that he did, "Had to see my dad, it's my mums birthday this weekend…I would've told you if you'd been in school yesterday." Oh yeah…I remember him mentioning something about it being his mum's birthday but I hadn't thought-…what a coincidence this was, "What are you doing here…of all places…?"

This was the moment. The moment that I should tell him that there was something important that he should know. This was that moment in time that I had to choose to do the right thing. I had to tell him. I had to do what was right. I had to-

"-Just came to say hello."

-Lie.

"You came to say hello…" he said slowly, not quite buying it and I could feel by brother's disappointment. I panicked.

Now I had to go with it, "Yeah, we were just passing. We have to go."

The bemusement on his face was only increased by my shortness, taking a little step towards the lift. I don't know what I was doing. Why didn't I tell him? I just wanted to get out of here…desperately; I just wanted to go home and sleep. I just wanted to turn back the clock just ten minutes and I'd be able to avoid...this. "Okay…are you alright Lena?"

Swallowing thickly at the lie I had to tell, I nodded stiffly, hardly convincing myself when my voice came out more high pitched than usual, "Yep, sorry, I'll text you." Before he could say another thing I'd grabbed Jeremy's arm and practically dragged him into the lift, keeping my eyes trained to the floor as the doors slid shut, not wanting to risk meeting his and giving it all away. Fuck, what had I done? I lied to him…straight out. To his face, I should've told the truth. Why the hell didn't I tell the truth?

"What the fuck was that!" Jeremy exclaimed, completely ignoring the fact that we weren't the only people in the elevator.

"I panicked!"

"Too right you panicked; you just lied to his face! You have a bloody brain tumour Elena! Your boyfriend deserves to know!" I didn't expect him to be so mad...

"I know!" I nearly shouted, raking my fingers through my hair and closing my eyes for a moment, "Oh god he's going to hate me when he finds out."

Amid my panic I heard him let out a sigh, the lift doors opening and he caught my hand to guide me back out, pulling me close and hooking his arm over my shoulder, "No he won't," he said in that comforting tone of his, not a hint of doubt in his tone, "He'll understand. Just tell him the truth."

"No-"

"-Elena…"

"No not until we know for sure."

"Know what for sure?!"

Struggling with words, I could feel my eyes watering but stubbornly refused to cry, "I know it's going to be cancer but I don't want to tell him anything until we know for sure. Maybe after the surgery. I can't tell him yet. I just can't."

"Elena-"

"-Don't make me Jer...I can't-"

"-You're being ridiculous." He let out in a huff, letting go of me and stepping away slightly, "Elena I'm your brother, I forgave you for not telling me last time. He's not...he's just your boyfriend of a few months." Put it bluntly why don't you... "You need to tell him, he won't forgive you if you don't. And you need him...you'll definitely need him."

.

Damon's POV:

Well…what the hell was that?

A million questions where bouncing around my head as I made my way down the familiar corridors of the hospital towards his office. Why was Elena here? Why did she look so scared and why the hell did she seem so frantic? She told me that it was a last minute thing that she had to come to the city, but why would that include her visiting my dad? I didn't buy it for a second that she was just 'passing' and came in to 'say hello'. That was utter bullshit; I could tell she was lying easily, but…what else could it be? Unless…no, no don't even go there.

The door to his office was already open when I got there, signalling that he didn't have an appointment just yet so I walked straight in without knocking. The sight before me had me pausing mid-step…he was sat at his desk with his face buried in his hands, leaning over his desk and letting out a heavy sigh. I can't say I'd ever seen him looked so…un-Giuseppe like, before. Usually he was so put together and stoic...it sure didn't help my nerves. "Knock, knock…"I said but lacking the usual sarcasm for worry. What was going on?

His head shot up, looking at me with wide eyes and putting himself back together again before I could so much as recognise the strange look in his eyes, "Damon, you're early." He said quickly, straightening his tie and clearing his throat as he avoided my gaze.

"You said five, the traffic was better than I expected…" I muttered, too distracted to think about it, "Dad what's going on? Why was Elena here?"

He hesitated for a second and it struck me that I don't think I'd ever seen him anything but confident before, "I can't tell you that Damon."

Well that wasn't good… "Why the hell not?"

He clenched his jaw, squaring his shoulders to hide the simple fact that he wasn't as self-assured as usual, "Doctor-patient confidentiality, son, if you want to know anything you'll have to hear it from-"

"-patient?!" What did he mean patient? She wasn't his patient, at least not anymore, "Elena's healthy." I said it with such confidence because it was true. I'd know if she wasn't. I mean, I know she's been having headaches a lot recently and she wasn't completely on top form but she just always said it was nothing…that it was 'girl stuff' and I didn't need to know anymore than that. Can't say I really wanted to either with that excuse but still I knew something was going on so- oh god was she ill again? Had I just not noticed…?

He heaved a heavy sigh, shaking his head a fraction, "Talk to her, I can't tell you anything and you know I won't."

"She's okay right…? It's not c-...It's not what it was last time…" I couldn't even say the word, panic rising inside me. It couldn't be, she was healthy.

"No it's not that." Relief…she'd told me about recurrences before and I'd always told her it wouldn't happen; to stay positive…it wasn't that. "Just give her a little time, son, she'll tell you when she's ready." Wait…does that mean there is something else…? She told me she was okay though- "I'll see you at home Damon, I have a few more appointments to get through."

Mind spinning, I left with a quick goodbye; barely taking note of the fact that the whole reason I'd come over was to pick him up because he hadn't taken his car this morning and needed a lift. I was just too lost in thought, trying to figure out what the hell could possibly be wrong with my girlfriend. Why had she come all the way to New York? Why hadn't she told me anything? I mean, at the risk of sounding clingy, we did generally tell each other everything. So if there really was something wrong…why wouldn't she tell me?

.

.

Well...there we go, more to come.

I'll just say quickly that if there are any incoherences or just plain wrong things with all the medical jargon etc. I apologise, I'm no doctor. But it's fiction and I'm a million miles from a real author so let's just roll with it

Thanks for reading

M