Mystic Falls, July, 1872

Damon had insisted that they wait until night fall before going back into the town. He held onto Charlotte's hand as they walked through the town, their heads down as they tried to avoid people. Charlotte only looked up as they came to the edge of the town and to the dirk track leading to her old home. Damon let his eyes linger on her as she continued walking by his side.

He squeezed her fingers as he saw her eyes widen and her face contort with fear, pain and wonder. Bending down, he pecked her on the forehead as they kept walking. He knew that this would hurt her. It would destroy her and Damon would be there to ensure that he looked after her. He had to look after her. She was going to be his wife.

"I dare not think about how she is," Charlotte said to him as they approached the house. "She…the guilt I feel over leaving her is too much, Damon. I have lost so much time with her."

"Charlotte, we had to leave," Damon said to her. "Your mother knew that and she understood that."

"But I still should have stayed longer. I should have visited here more often."

"Do not do this," Damon urged from her, voice low and soft as they stood on the porch. He held onto her hands, looking down at her. Moving one of their entwined hands upwards, he lifted her chin so that she could look at him in the eye. "Do not blame yourself for something that was beyond your control."

Charlotte said nothing in response. Instead she dropped his hands and entered the house, leaving the door open for Damon the follow. He did so, his footsteps light as Charlotte removed her hat from her head, laying it down on the bannister.

"Mother?" she called out.

"Charlotte?"

Following the sound of her mother's voice, Charlotte walked into the kitchen to find her sitting at the table. She had a mug in front of her, clearly having been drinking tea. A book was open on the table and she had been reading before she had heard the front door open.

"It is me," Charlotte said and rushed over to her mother.

She crouched down and Marianna wrapped Charlotte into her arms, holding onto her tightly. Damon remained stood where he was at the front of the room, arms dangling by his side as he watched the two women. He adjusted his tie slightly against his shirt and then raked a hand through his hair. He watched as Marianna held the back of Charlotte's head, stroking her hair gently as Charlotte buried her head against her mother's neck.

"Oh, Charlotte, I have missed you so much," Marianna said.

"I missed you too," Charlotte said to her mother, clinging onto her. "I am so sorry."

Pulling back, Charlotte sat down. She kept hold of her mother's hands and looked across to her, face contorted into one of anguish. Damon could not deny that Marianna looked terrible. She was gaunt, her face pale and hollow. She had lost weight, her clothes hanging off of her and almost burying her. Damon couldn't help but think that if she fell she would break. She looked nothing like the strong woman he had known when he had been growing up.

"Charlotte, there is nothing to apologise for," Marianna said. "You could not have stayed here and cared for me. I am simply glad that you are here now…one last time."

Damon could see that she was trying to be brave. She was on the verge of breaking down and Damon didn't know what to do. He felt slightly lost, not wanting to get in the middle of the two of them. He knew how Charlotte adored her parents. She loved them so much and her mother was now too ill to help.

"I could have done something," Charlotte whispered and Marianna shook her head firmly.

"No," she said, "I would not want the life that you live, Charlotte. I have made my peace with what is going to happen…praying that I will be able to return to your father."

"I hope so too," Charlotte said to her, trying to offer her mother some comfort.

"Oh, Damon," Marianna suddenly said, seeing the young man lurking in the corner of the room as she nodded over to him, smiling softly. "Do take a seat. I have some tea in the pot…then again…I doubt you two drink tea."

Damon's lips quirked at hearing her say that and he moved to sit down next to Charlotte, a hand moving to the small of her back. She turned her head to the side, looking over to him and he gave her a reassuring small smile.

"Thank you, Mrs Wallis," Damon said to the woman. "I am sorry to hear about everything. You know that…well…I thought of you as a mother to me when my own mother died. You looked after me and gave me your blessing to be with Charlotte. That means everything to me."

Marianna looked at the young man, thinking how mature he sounded when he spoke. She nodded her head and squeezed Charlotte's hand tightly.

"I can think of no one I would rather look after my daughter than you, Damon. You have to promise me that you will always do that…look out for her…protect her…care for her," Marianna continued and Damon nodded.

"I promise," he said.

"Mother, do not speak like that," Charlotte begged from her. "Speaking as though…you…you have…"

"It is inevitable now, darling," Marianna said. "We both know that and we both understand that. I just want to enjoy the final few days I have with you. Tell me everything about your travels. I want to know where you have visited."

Damon could see that Charlotte was struggling for words and so he took over. He began recounting their travels, hand stroking Charlotte's back softly as he watched her, unable to take his eyes off of her for too long as he spoke. She chipped in occasionally and Damon watched Marianna smile dreamily along, almost as though she longed to be where they had visited.

It was turning dark when Marianna insisted she had to go and rest. Charlotte had helped her mother up the stairs while Damon had stayed in the kitchen and tided away utensils, washing them and then drying them. Charlotte had come back down after ten minutes, entering the kitchen and moving to Damon. Tossing the towel down after he had wiped his hands, Damon's arms went around Charlotte as she latched hers onto his waist. Her head buried into his chest and Damon pressed a hand to the back of her head.

"I've got you," Damon promised her, voice low and gentle.

"I wish that I could turn my emotions off," Charlotte mumbled against him. "Would it hurt less?"

"It would take away your humanity," Damon said to her, recalling how they had discovered the ability to turn emotions on and off. Both of them had agreed that they did not want to do that. They wanted to feel. They wanted to experience things. "And as painful as this is, Charlotte, you would feel even worse if you felt nothing."

"You are right," she agreed with him and he continued stroking her hair softly. She let out a shaky breath and looked up at him, her eyes wide and wet. Moving a hand underneath her chin, he tilted her up to look to him and bent down, kissing her chastely. He pulled back and moved his thumb over her cheekbone.

"You need rest," he commented in a gentle voice to her.

"I need to go and check on her," Charlotte said. "Just to make sure she is asleep."

"Hmm," Damon hummed his agreement with her. "Are you hungry at all?"

"Yes," Charlotte admitted to him. "But I do not want to leave to feed. I would prefer to stay here instead of hunt."

"I will go and find something," Damon promised her. "You stay here and I will return soon."

"Thank you," Charlotte said and kissed him again.

"Anything for you," he replied. "Now go and check on your mother."

She rushed off then and Damon watched her go before leaving the house to secure dinner for the evening.

….

Charlotte knew that it would not be long before her mother succumbed to her illness. She had wanted more time with her, but life had a cruel way of getting in the way of plans. Charlotte had wept when her mother had finally stopped breathing. Her final words had been about how she loved Charlotte and wanted her to be happy. She had gone quietly and peacefully, leaving Charlotte and Damon alone in the bedroom.

Damon knew that it would take a while before Charlotte would come around from the trance she was in. He had helped organise the funeral, trying not to alert too many people to their return to Mystic Falls, knowing that they already had their suspicions about the two of them. Burying her mother next to her father, Charlotte had stood and looked over the grave. There was only her and Damon there. The sky was clear, but the air had a chill, not that it bothered her and Damon.

Dressed in a dark suit, Damon had brushed his hair neatly and ensured his tie was perfect. Charlotte wore a black dress, her red hair contrasting with it despite the fact she had tried to hide her hair in her hat. Her hand had squeezed Damon's the entire time. They had stood there for sometime before Charlotte had rested a small bouquet of flowers on the grave. Standing tall, she had nodded to Damon and the two of them had left the graveside to return to her home.

They knew that they could not stay there for too long. Charlotte had insisted on staying to sort through her mother's belongings, but there was nothing that she particularly wanted or longed for. Instead she had taken the photo on the side of her mother and father, placing it in her bag before telling Damon that he could make plans for them to leave.

New York, September 1872

Looking out the window of the hotel, Charlotte wore only her nightgown, her hair loose and falling down her back. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Damon watched the back of his fiancée. Her eyes were scanning the horizon in front of them and Damon knew what she was going to say.

"I detest this city," she said.

Sighing, Damon moved to his feet. "It is just different, Charlotte."

"It is too busy," Charlotte complained to him as he stood behind her. Moving his hand down her side, he picked up her hand, feeling the engagement ring that sat on her finger as he admired the small green rock that sat on the gold band. He let their hands rest against her stomach as he placed his chin on her shoulder. "I like the quiet."

"Then we will go somewhere quiet," Damon said, finding that his fiancée had become slightly more unsatisfied by anything in recent months. He tried to make her happy, but he struggled. She was not the same since her mother had died. "We will go wherever you want."

Charlotte sighed and pulled her hand from his, moving to reach for the soft robe that had been provided by the hotel. Damon flapped his hands against his hips. "What have I said now?" he asked at her sudden haughty attitude.

"You always say that we will do what I want," she said. "What do you want, Damon?"

"I do not care, Charlotte," Damon said to her. "I want you to be happy and I will go wherever you wish. I know that things have been difficult, but we cannot keep going like this."

"Like what?" Charlotte asked him.

"I know you are hurting," Damon said to her. "I understand that, Charlotte, but you keep pushing me away. Anything I say is never enough to appease you…you barely let me hold you…touch you…it is almost like you resent me."

"I do not resent you," Charlotte denied, pulling her hair from the collar of the robe.

"Then what is it?" Damon asked from her. "Because I am beginning to get scared, Charlotte…scared that you do not want me."

"It isn't you," Charlotte snapped at him. "Damon, it isn't you, it is me. I…I am not coping…I feel guilt. I feel guilty that I chose to run off with you instead of staying home and caring for my mother. You saw her, Damon. She could hardly do anything and she was on her own. She was on her own for so long and then I turned up and it was too late. I should have been there sooner. I should have been with her through it all."

Damon said nothing then. He had not expected this from her. She pushed a hand through her hair and shook her head.

"I need to bathe," she informed him, moving into the bathroom of the suite.

"Charlotte, it is not your fault," Damon said to her, trying to persuade her otherwise. "We did not know until it was too late-"

"-But I should have," Charlotte interrupted. "I should have never ran off with you."

Damon blinked profusely then, his own stomach tightening at hearing her. "Are you saying…you regret us?"

"I regret not staying there," Charlotte said to him. "I regret not being there for my mother. I do not regret us. I will never regret us, but I…I regret running away and I should have stayed. I should have been stronger and stayed with her."

"Charlotte-"

"-I do not want to discuss this," Charlotte said, holding a hand up to stop Damon from continuing. Her eyes met his for a brief moment and she turned to move into the bathroom. Closing the door behind her, Damon groaned loudly, tugging on his hair before looking over the city, feeling the drift between the two of them.

…

A/N: Do let me know what you think!