After ensuring Elena was soundly asleep, Damon left the room and shut Elena's bedroom door softly behind him.

He felt Caroline's presence before she made herself known to him. She stepped out of the shadows quietly and stood in Damon's path.

"She's getting weaker. She won't eat."

Damon stopped and stared down at her. She was a brave little thing. Her eyes were a shining blue against her pale skin and golden hair.

"I know," Damon responded curtly.

He didn't need a reminder of her condition. He above all else knew her state and he felt powerless, absolutely powerless.

"Can't you...do something?"

Damon was roused from his thoughts and looked down at her suspiciously.

"What exactly do you think I can…do," he asked cautiously.

"I know," Caroline took a breath, "what you are."

Damon took a step towards her and she took a step back, cringing slightly.

"What I am?" He eyed her curiously.

"It was you." Her fingers went to her neck, touching her skin softly.

She had struggled in his arms…his teeth nearly shredding her neck apart…sweet, sweet blood.

"It's a bit early to be in your cups, Miss Forbes," Damon chided, feeling warm. He began to walk past her.

"I haven't had a drink," Caroline shook her and turned, staring into his back. "They said I stepped into the cages at the zoo and I couldn't understand why I couldn't remember…why I still cannot remember…"

Damon stopped without turning and then a moment later, he smelled it. It was the sweet metallic tang that he knew quite intimately. He turned suddenly and his eyes fell to the rose blooming in Caroline's palm—a sharp letter opener held in her other hand.

"What are you doing?!" Damon asked.

She lifted her palm out to him, rivulets of blood snaking down her arm.

Caroline squeaked when he grabbed her shoulder and pulled her down the hall and into a guest room. He flung her in and shut the door behind them both, keeping his back to her. He laid his palm on the door and took several moments to collect himself before turning towards her.

"She left me a letter. Vicktoria did." Caroline babbled and slashed her wrist before Damon had a chance to advance further.

He hissed and grabbed her arm painfully. He wrenched the letter opener from her arm threw it to the ground.

"Have you gone crazy?! What is wrong with the women in this god forsaken town?"

"I know what you are!" Caroline cried, her hand grabbing a fist full of his shirt in her hand. "You're a demon, a vampire! And I know what you can do!"

She pulled herself slightly in his grasp and pressed her palm to his mouth without warning

Damon's eyes widened. His teeth unsheathed painfully without prompting and before he could stop himself, he yanked her closer and took her wrist into his mouth. It was wrong, dangerous. He could kill her right here.

"I know what you are," she said again, crying against him. She didn't struggle.

There was so much confusion, so much hunger around him. He was but an animal first, wasn't he?

"You can heal me…just like you can heal her…please! I know what you can do! Take what you must but heal her!" Caroline babbled.

Heal her. Elena. Instinct in him wanted to bite this hysterical woman harder as he thought of Elena. Oh the joy…

He threw her wrist from his mouth and she pulled her bleeding arm to her chest, looking up at him.

"She told me you could. Vik saw what you did for me. She wrote it in the letter…"

"I can't," Damon shouted at her, his despair rising.

Caroline shrunk back from his intensity.

"I don't believe it," her voice began to waver.

"You know nothing, you child." He walked to the window, the scent of blood heavy in the air.

"You're…a monster…" She said.

"I am," he did not turn. "And yet I am powerless with only my love to save your mistress."

"I don't understand…"

"Of course you don't," Damon turned with fury, advancing on her until she was against the wall. "I could kill you now and no one would save you. Do you realize how foolish you are to attempt to bargain with me?" He sighed, "Does the other maid know? Bonnie?"

"No."

"All the better for her. I don't need two of you enveloping me in your mania. I could kill you, you stupid child."

Caroline shook her head, tears cresting her lids and down her cheeks.

"Yes, but you could save her…"

Damon hit the wall beside her head and she was silenced in fear.

"I can't. I could kill her. I would kill her. It's not the same as it was for you back then. Don't you see? I am as helpless as you! The baby changes everything. The magic of my blood is useless within her. It's dangerous. You wouldn't understand. And I don't have the patience to make you understand."

Damon's gaze had wandered to her bloody hand and wrist. He sighed, biting his own wrist, and pressed it to Caroline's lips. She gasped against his skin but drank with a sudden need. After a moment, he pushed her away as she looked in fascination at her healing wounds, her mouth was brimming with blood. He opened the door and turned to her.

"Leave. Never do this again. Never tell a soul or I'll drain your body dry of every last drop of blood and throw you into the Black Sea."

He pushed her forward and out of the room. He shut the door behind her and picked up the bloody letter opener. He ran his tongue along the blade and cut his mouth as penance for his weakness. He winced and sighed, dropping his hand at his side. It would heal soon but he concentrated on the bright burn as a reminder. Killing Elena's friends certainly wouldn't endear him to her.

He could do nothing but stand and wait. Though it was July, he felt a chill run through him. He felt as if death loomed overhead, watching them all.

Caroline rushed from the room quickly, her tread feather light against the carpet. She rushed into a guest room further down the hall and entered, shutting the door behind her. She felt dizzy, alive. She fell to her knees in front of the small bar cart in the corner and spat blood into an empty whiskey glass. Caroline licked her lips, allowing herself to savor the blood left on her tongue. She lifted the glass to her eye level and inspected the blood she swished within.


Two weeks later.

"Please eat," Caroline nearly begged, "for the baby."

Elena sighed and lifted the spoon.

"I'm trying," she swallowed back a small spoonful of yogurt and nearly gagged, breathing hard to hold it down. "I wasn't this sick with my other children..."

"I hear that can happen sometimes," Caroline said helpfully.

Perhaps it's because this is Damon's child, Elena thought. A different child than what my womb is used to. The thought of a blue eyed, raven haired baby raised her spirits a bit and she held down another bite.

"Where is he," she asked Caroline.

"I don't know," Caroline said truthfully. Elena didn't even need to say his name to know who she was asking about.

"When did you last see him?"

"He left your bedroom in the early morning…it was still dark."

Elena wondered thoughtfully about where Damon had gone to. He had become…she couldn't even say "distant" because he was as attentive as ever. But there was something, she could feel it. A space hovered between them that she could not quite penetrate.

"Send him to me when you see him," Elena said distractedly.

"Of course," Caroline smiled.

Caroline did omit troubling information that she had overheard at breakfast with the rest of the help. Though the staff was compelled to overlook the strange goings on in the palace, the rest of their lives remained unaffected. Town gossip continued to drift through the halls like a breeze. There had been a string of reports of vicious attacks in the outskirts of town. Caroline thought of the terrifying moments she shared with de la Salvatore a few weeks ago. She wondered if she even had an inkling of what he was capable of. It worried her.

"I have something for you," Caroline breathed suddenly.

She stood and walked to a nearby dresser. Caroline pulled a bottle of wine which she had hidden behind a large vase. She sat on the bed and placed it in her lap. She tapped the bottle and smiled.

"Oh," Elena perked up.

"It's from Italy, you're homeland. It's a decent vintage—I managed to obtain it from," Caroline smirked, "one of my beaux."

"You minx," Elena laughed and pulled the bottle into her lap.

"Shush," Caroline giggled. "I—it's just gift for us to toast with once your baby is born."

"You're too kind," Elena murmured, carefully placing it on her end table.

"I wish I had diamonds or…" Caroline drifted off.

"Your friendship is worth more than even that," Elena responded, grabbing her hand.

Caroline squeezed her hand.

"And so is yours."


They drank brandy with fresh orange juice under the shade of a white oak tree. The wrought iron table and chairs were warm from the morning sun.

"Animal attack," Matthew mused.

"Yes," Tyler took a deep drink. "The man's throat was torn out."

"Did it look like it could have been de la Salvatore?"

Tyler shrugged, looking thoughtful.

"It could…but how could I certainly deduce say…a vampire from a wolf from the nearby forest?"

"Hrmpph," Matthew agreed.

News had been sparse and shaky the last few weeks. Discerning fact from fiction was a heavy task on the shoulders of Tyler and Matthew. So far, they came upon only two hopeful rumors that could have possibly held merit. Unfortunately, the children they came upon were not his own—just ordinary Bulgarian children with parents who matched the description of de la Salvatore's footman & the governess, Anna.

"Perhaps she conspired with them the whole time," Matthew said, thinking of her.

"Anna," Tyler asked, shaking his head. "No, I don't think so. She had to have been taken against her will. She loves those children as if they were her own."

Matthew ran his finger along the rim of his glass.

"Perhaps," he said shortly.

"We'll find them," Tyler leaned forward, touching Matthew's knee.

Matthew looked down at Tyler's hand, his gaze traveling up his arm and neck until he found his eyes. He sighed softly and patted Tyler's hand before pushing it away.

Tyler sat back, seemingly unaffected though it was the farthest thing from the truth. He looked down the palace lawn, the flowers swayed like jewels dancing in the sunlight. He turned back to Matthew and found his gaze still pointed at him.

"I know you feel that you have no other choice but to trust me," Tyler said, "but you rightly can. I hope one day your heart will fully embrace that. I'm loyal to you and you alone."

Matthew ran a tired hand over his face.

"When we find my children, then I'll allow myself the luxury to think about you."


He had not spared the man.

In this distance, Damon could hear his horse rustling through the tall grass. It snorted, nibbling at the fragrant flora of the Bulgarian countryside.

The slight struggle had flattened the area around Damon and he laid back, staring up into the sky. He was flushed from the man's blood and he placed his hand over his abdomen. A black raven flew overhead and dove beyond his line of sight, cawing into the afternoon. There was chirping and twittering all around him. The sky was a magnificent blue with soft, white clouds drifting like mammoth ghosts in the breeze.

He turned beside him; the body had ceased moving in its post-death spasms.

Damon looked back upward and imagined he could make out Elena's face in the clouds—the curve of her cheek, the plumpness of her lips...

He sighed.

What was he doing wasting his time away from her? He could be with her, as he had always dreamed of and instead he was killing innocent people in the countryside in a drunken blood-haze.

He pushed the man further away from him in disgust and stared back up in the sky. Though his bond with Elena felt infinite, he realized he had only known her for four months. Four months! It felt like a lifetime. They had gone through some much joy, so much pain and so much sorrow in such a short time. It was a bit frightening. He felt guilty, incredibly so. He had turned this woman's life upside down more so than it had already been. She was utterly broken when he found her—taken for granted by her husband, abused by Sir John, living under the spell of opium. Somehow, he climbed into the tangled weave of her life and settled himself amongst the thorns right along with her. He practically forced her to love him with his persistence. He brought both of them pleasure and agony. It was nearly enough memories for a lifetime yet it all happened in such a short time span. Everything happened because of every single decision he had made for himself…and for her.

He loved her with an intensity that burned into the darkest corner of his soul. He hadn't thought of Katherine for so long because in his mind, there was always Elena—somehow, some way, there had always been Elena. And now? She was pregnant with a child that was killing her. Though he would have given his life for the unborn baby to be his, he knew her delusions could not make it true. It would be a blond haired, blue eyed child. Its blood would be the coupling of either Matthew…or John, neither of which were enticing prospects. It would not be his, it would never be his. It blackened his mind with a potent jealousy. Though he could never harm anything that came from Elena, in that moment, he hated her child. It was a parasite clinging to her womb like an asp, draining the life out of her with every waking moment. She had gotten thinner in the days and weeks since he reunited with her. She could barely eat, the wretched little thing made her so incredibly sick. She was more delicate than a dying flower, her skin looking sallow and near waxy. He was afraid to touch her, afraid to love her. He wanted her terribly that he ached with pain. He wanted to hold her, to kiss her, to make love to her. Oh, he wanted to make love to her. He wanted to thrust away his worry in carnal, blissful release but she was so frail and her body tenuous to something so lustful.

How cruel was fate to bring them together and rip them apart in such a short amount of time? He almost wished he had never met her and that left a bitter taste his mouth. Would her life have been any better? He could not say. But surely, it could not have been any worse. Their union caused the deaths of so many and still, they had nothing to truly show for it. She was dying this very moment in a palace she hated.

Just then, Damon was roused from his thoughts to the sound of a carriage. His fangs descended, pressing urgently against his tongue. Distractions had come calling…