Author's note: Long author's note at the end of the chapter! Enjoy!

Chapter 9

Over the next month, we follow a similar routine to the one downstairs in the bedroom, but with slight variations. We eat breakfast together at a square dining table Marco had brought in. I kneel at his feet and he feeds me while feeding himself. I've gotten so used to it, that I can't remember when the last time I ate with my hands was. Was it at the airport on the way here? At dinner with Sebastian?

Sebastian. He occupies my thoughts. Now that I'm upstairs and fed, with access to water, I have time to think. I have time to regret. I shouldn't have left. I knew what I was risking. Is he worried? On his yacht with another girl? I promised I'd be back, does he think I blew him off? Probably.

After breakfast, Marco works while I read or watch movies. I try to get Marta to talk to me when she's in my room, but it doesn't always work. Instead of academic tutors, Marco tutors me in the way he wants me to act.

Sexually.

Marco likes it when I kneel before him with my hair parted, lying flat down my back. I'm not allowed to question what he does. He gets me to stop swearing during sex, which is harder than it sounds. I can deep throat him without gagging. He teaches me to hold my orgasm, but I still can't last long. He says I'm in my head that I need to think about his pleasure. I just rolled my eyes, which earned me five lashes with the bamboo cane and I couldn't come for the rest of the night.

Marco gets frustrated because I think his rules are stupid. In a fit of frustration after I took things in my own hands-literally, and started giving him a hand job while he sucked on my tits, he was in the middle of delivering my punishment- ten lashes with the cane. "You are the most willful woman. You have no fear. It is fucking infuriating."

I started laughing.

Dumb move on my part because he didn't let me come for the rest of the day, and he made sure I wanted to…badly.

By day five, I really screw up. Sometimes, Marco is more like the Marco in Miami, so I joke with him about his business. Something about him having a lot of free time to sexually torture me. Then he decides to actually sexually torture me. My revenge was sweet while it lasted. The next morning he arrived to a vision he thought he'd never see. Me, lying on my stomach reading a book, with the collar off my neck, chain dangling from the ceiling. He's almost as mad about that as he is about the cameras in the room I disabled after I freed myself.

He shouldn't have believed me when I asked for him to loosen my necklace. Made the key I lifted while giving him a blow job easy to find. I just slid it under the bed when he wasn't looking.

Marco dragged me to the hell cell for that. I was tossed in and shown a picture of Caroline from that morning, getting out of her car. "Clearly, you forgot," he said.

I did. Selfishly so.

Marco leaves me in the cell for four days with only a bottle of water. Then he carries me out, showers with me, and fastened a new collar around my neck. It's similar to the previous one, but there's an actual lock connecting the ends of the chain together. A small silver one that would look like a charm to anyone who didn't know, but still, an actual lock. He thinks he's hilarious. He also reminds me, like twelve times, that he's keeping it in a locked safe, away from me. Then he checks to make sure it's secure to the ceiling.

After being shown the picture of Caroline, I try to be good. Marco is very severe at first, but slightly softens up after a week has passed. I convince him to watch a movie with me and he brings popcorn to feed me. Yes, popcorn. The salty/sweet kind. Homemade. To say I was stunned would've been the understatement of the century. We started the Lord of the Rings series after I finished the books. It was the most fun I'd had since I arrived.

That night, he stays with me. He holds me around the stomach with his leg draped over me so I'm tucked securely to him.

I have the passcode figured out. 1980.

A week after the movie, Marco arrives carrying a wardrobe bag and a shoebox. He hangs it up in the very empty closet and places the shoes beneath it. "I am holding a fundraiser here tonight," he explains. "You will accompany me and be on your best behavior."

I am standing in the room, dumbfounded. I actually get to leave this room?

"Why are you standing?"

I drop to my knees and roll my eyes. Asshole.

Unfortunately, he catches it.

"Palm up," he orders.

Fuck. This one hurts and he knows it, which is why he uses it.

I hold out my palm while he strides over to the locked closet and opens it with his phone. He takes out a thin bamboo cane. "How many for rolling your eyes?"

"Three," I mutter.

The cane whips through the air and slices onto my hand. "One," I say, ignoring the pain and ignoring the fact that I won't be able to hold anything with my left hand for two days. Another slices through the air and hits my hand. "Two." The final one hits the same spot. Tears roll down my cheeks as I say, "Three."

"Stand."

I stand back up, my left hand shaking as I move it to my side.

"Turn."

I turn around. His fingers run along his mark, making sure it's scaring properly. "You will learn to listen."

"Yes."

"You need a reminder."

He hasn't done this before. In over the month that I've been chained to the ceiling, I've learned that the big canes don't hurt as bad. Marco is well trained and knows how to wield a whip so it hurts and stings, but doesn't do any lasting damage. A thin cane, one that will cause my hand to have welts that don't go away for a couple of days, on my ass will hurt.

What's more concerning is he doesn't have me count, which means he can give me as many as he wants without me knowing how long I need to last. I've seen this side of him before. The scary side. The one that drags me to my hell cell. The one that keeps me there for days. Even now, he doesn't feed me enough for me to have too much energy. I get a good breakfast and scraps for dinner when he remembers.

Sometimes, he just chains my hands to the ceiling and starts playing with my body. Forgetting to feed me, or maybe purposefully not feeding me. I'm hungry all the time. But the worst? The cruelest thing he does is leave me. Sometimes he leaves me alone for days. I'm so grateful by his arrival that I'll do anything. I try to be so good for him. It's sick and twisted and it's the worst part of everything. I feel myself changing.

As the cane whips through the air and hits my ass, I try to remember the girl that used to run in the early hours of the morning. The girl that figured out how to save Damon Salvatore. Did he get my message or is he dead?

That thought I avoid whips through my brain in tune with the crack of his cane. If I knew there was an afterlife, I would've taken my own long ago. In the cell, that level of hopelessness is to be expected, it's what he wanted. Up here? With a bed and good meals when I get them and sex that reminds me that I am alive? That level of hopelessness is scary.

I repeat the numbers. 1980. I can at least save Caroline. I can focus on that.

Later, I'm in the shower avoiding the spray of water from hitting my back. The chain is unhooked and I'm given a black silk robe and taken back to the spa to get my hair and makeup done. I need to be polished for his party.

Marco picks me up in my room. The dress he brought is complex, yet so appropriate for who I am in his life that it's almost humorous. It's a Tom Ford black v-neck crepe dress with one long sleeve and an obscenely high slit up the thigh. The bust on the other side is held up by a thick silver chain that wraps around my neck and goes down my back. There is no back. The dress stops just above my ass. However, even I have to admit that it is a gorgeous dress. Obscene, but gorgeous. It also goes with my collar, which is exactly why he chose it. My hair is as Marco likes it, parted and straight down my back, even though it would look much better up considering the detail around my neck.

"You look beautiful," Marco says.

"Thank you," I say, admiring his black tux. "You don't look so bad yourself."

He doesn't. He looks like sin in a fitted black tux with an open collar. The crisp white shirt is open a few buttons, combined with the designer suit, he looks like he owns all of Mexico but doesn't give a shit of what you think about him.

I hiss when he brushes my lower back to guide me out of the room. Some of the lashes missed my ass. I don't know who this fundraiser is for, but I think Marco wants them to show, just like his mark. If I turn a certain way, his first name shows on my hip.

"Remember, Viviana."

I nod. "I know."

We walk to the main house, where the party is being held. It's decorated with lavish flowers and servers walk around with Champagne and food. I reach to grab a glass of champagne, but Marco scolds me. "You can only eat or drink what I give you."

My hand drops to my side, disappointed. It's been so long since I've had alcohol, I'd be drunk after a sip.

An older man with dark hair and an impressive mustache, wearing a brown suit with a bolo tie around his neck approaches Marco. "Are you going to serve this sparkling shit all night?"

Marco laughs good-naturedly. He calls a server over. "Mr. Zapatero would like a scotch, neat."

He grunts his approval and when he turns back to Marco, spots me. "Who's this young thing?"

Marco wraps his hand tighter around my waist. I try not to wince in pain. "This is Viviana."

He looks at me skeptically. "Does not look like she can bare your massive babies. You are too tall. Have I told you that lately?"

Oh, god.

Marco chuckles. "And you are short."

Clearly, this is their regular banter. Then they start speaking in Spanish. I've been studying and when Marta will talk to me, it's in Spanish which gives me an opportunity to practice.

From what I understood, this is a fundraiser for a charity that funds cancer research. The person that runs the charity happens to be the wife of the governor of California. Marco is donating an obscene amount of money to the charity, which will go directly into the governor's pocket. This whole party is a scam so Marco can go through the border while they look the other way. Moreover, Marco gained access to ports in San Pedro.

I can't figure out what they're shipping but he uses word that sound like escape glava. I can't figure out what it means. I do understand the word for drugs and guns, which is pretty much to be expected when surrounded by armed guards every day. While they talk business, I look around. I haven't been around this many people in a while and find myself standing close to Marco.

It's a mix of wealthy people, in tuxedos and evening dresses. The women wear too much jewelry and the men laugh and talk business over hors d'oeuvres and champagne. One girl catches my eye. She's a little younger than me and looks scared as fuck. At first, I think, "who'd bring their teenage daughter to a party like this?" But then a man three times her age places his hand on her ass before curling around her small waist possessively.

Her haunted eyes catch mine and we exchange a knowing look. We're in the same boat, she and I. She has a thin silver loop she wears around her neck that looks like an ordinary necklace, but I know exactly what it is. Her hand drops to her stomach and that's when I realize beneath her pale pink chiffon Grecian gown is a pregnant belly.

My stomach rolls. She may be younger than me, but looking at her is like looking into the future. The remaining hope I have left dwindles to a few smoking embers.

I cling to Marco and watch the number of drinks he has. I try to pay attention to what people are saying, but I'm hungry and tired of translating. I let my mind wander off while I stare at the decorated grounds and let Marco guide me if we have to move. I'm polite and I smile and I haven't said more than two words. I constantly feel like I'm being watched, but no one cares about me, except for being the girl on the most powerful person in Mexico's arm.

We move to a white tent set up in the garden. The tent is lit up with white twinkly lights and has a complete stage and dance floor. Marco seats me at a table and introduces me to the governor of California. He's big and boisterous and funny. "The famous Viviana," he proclaims. "You have a face that could be on the big screen."

I highly doubt that.

I smile and move to take his outstretched hand, but instead of shaking it, he pulls me to him and kisses me on the mouth. It's wet and gross, but he just laughs at my stunned expression. Marco grabs me and tugs me to him and scowls. "Oh, come on Reyes," the governor says. "You've always shared in the past."

Oh, God.

"In the past," Marco reiterates. "Not in the future."

I chance a glance at the governor's wife, but she's drunk or high or both. Some charity she runs. She rakes her long, manicured nails through her short blonde hair and takes another sip of Champagne, making eyes at one of the servers. So that's how it is.

As we sit down for the first course, I am reminded that I haven't eaten with my own hands in over a month. Will Marco feed me at the table? My answer comes when I am not served food. Instead, I'm forced to watch people eat while I'm not even given a place setting. I will not give into this humiliation. I will not cry. I will not think about how I am dying to steal the bread Mrs. Governor is not eating. I sit with a smile on my face, enjoying the live band playing instrumental versions of famous songs.

During the main course, Marco is in deep conversation with the governor. When there's a pause in their conversation, I lean against him. "I need to use the restroom."

He thinks about it and nods. "Hurry back."

I leave from behind him. Once I'm out of the tent, I walk as casually past the guards into the main house. Because of the party, everyone is either in the kitchen preparing or outside, helping with festivities. With Marco's phone clutched in my hand and hidden beneath the slit of my dress, at my side, I enter in his passcode and use it to get into his office through the app I saw him use. I search his office until I find my backpack propped against a safe. He must've moved it out recently. My luck seems to be turning. I open it and search for my burner phone in the pocket. My heart races as I flip it open. It's dead. Of course, it's dead, I've been here for months.

I find the charger and plug it into an outlet in the wall and wait. I'm already taking too long. I should just abandon my task. I look out the window of his office and check the doorway. No one is in the hall or by the window. I search through my backpack, looking for something that would help me escape. He'll notice if I take anything and my computer is gone, as is my composition book. He must've locked everything up. My passports are even gone. Dammit.

The burner phone turns on and I scroll through the contacts I entered in years ago and call the only person I've ever known to care about Caroline and will know what to do. Uncle John told me he's helping run the Founding Families. He was a few years ahead of us in school but loved Caroline. It broke her heart when he left for college to play football. Tyler Lockwood. As part of the Founding Families, he'll know my secret. Uncle John was the one that told me to put his number in my phone in case I needed help and he couldn't be reached. Considering Uncle John always hated Giuseppe, I wasn't surprised he chose to give me Tyler's number.

I click on his contact and wait while it rings. He answers. His voice sounds groggy and I realize it's late in Mystic Falls. "Hello?"

"Tyler," I whisper. "Save Caroline."

"Who…?"

My wrist is grabbed forcing me to drop my phone. Before Marco can pick it up, I stomp on the phone with the heel of my stiletto. "Who were you calling?" He hisses, hauling me across the room and slamming me against the wall.

He didn't hear. Think. Think. What's the most believable, safest option? "Damon," I answer.

It's believable because it will hurt the most.

"Damon Salvatore is in jail, currently working to appeal his death penalty sentence. You expect me to believe you called him?"

"I called information and they connected me to Falls County Jail," I explain.

"Why?"

He's squeezing my wrist so hard, it'll surely bruise. It also happens to be the same hand he whipped earlier. He slams me against the wall again, prompting me to hurry up. "To help him. I risked everything to help him and wasn't able to."

"How?" he hisses.

I gasp, my head hurts so bad from hitting the crown molding along the wall. "I saved the video on a server that's password protected."

I'm lying but also divulging plan B. The plan that I don't know worked or not, by Marco's reaction to my lie that it was Damon, it appears my plan did not work.

I gaze at Marco's face, one I've gotten pretty good at reading. He believes me but is pissed. "We have to get back to the party. I have to make a speech, which is what I came to get you for. I thought you came to the house to use the restroom and freshen up, not steal my phone and call you precious Damon."

"I didn't try to escape," I argue, cause in for a penny, in for a pound. "I didn't betray you, but you could at least feed me. I thought you were taking care of me. What you're doing is slowly killing me."

He slams me against the wall again and chuckles darkly. "I am not killing you, Elena." He slips up and reddens embarrassed, but corrects his expression quickly. "You just need to learn how to submit."

"How long is it going to take for you to realize that your methods aren't working?" I hiss back.

"We have time for you to learn," he whispers. "Now, go to the bathroom and fix your hair and face."

He releases me and follows me to his office bathroom while I straighten my hair and use a tissue to wipe my mascara.

Marco guides me back to the tent and seats me. Dessert is set before us, a chocolate cake with a berry sauce. Marco may be pissed, but he feeds me a few bites of his cake. Everyone at the table thinks it's a romantic gesture. I inwardly laugh. Marco is feeding me because he doesn't want me to pass out for whatever he has planned when everyone leaves. Then he steps up to the microphone to make his speech. I sit and watch, trying to project a person in love. If I'm convincing enough, maybe it won't be so bad later.

"Before Luca was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia, he liked to surf and play football. Then he grew tired, so tired he started sleeping all day. I remember trying to drag him out of bed to surf, he cried and refused to leave. On the bicep, where I barely tugged him was bruising. It was then I noticed how pale and hot his skin was. I was so angry with myself for not noticing Luca wasn't Luca anymore. He was a shadow of the wild and daring brother I looked after," he explains. At first, I think this is another lie, another manipulation, but he couldn't get away with that here. He couldn't get away with that in front of people that have known his family for years. Every time I hate Marco, another layer is peeled away. I find out he likes chocolate, Lord of the Rings, and sweet popcorn…he calls the person who takes care of his home the last member of his family. What happened?

Marco looks directly at me and says, "Every time I visited Luca at the hospital, as his big brother, I swore to find a cure for him. Even though the disease took his life, I intend to keep my promise. Please consider donating to the AML Foundation. Thank you for coming this evening."

I am so confused. He seems so sincere up there and I find myself believing him but if I do, it means the conversation between him and the governor wasn't true.

Unless, of course…I want to kick myself.

The numbers he was discussing were huge. It's a front but a real one. He's still donating the money from tonight in the millions, but the portion they were discussing will go into the governor's pocket. It's perfect really and so believable considering he's personally invested in the foundation.

Money laundering for a good cause. Jesus Christ, these people.

It also means, he really does have a little brother that surfs. The brother he told me about in Miami exists. Well, he did exist. I know what the death of a younger brother can do to a family. I feel my eyes water. I wouldn't wish that pain on anyone, even Marco.

The Governor takes the microphone from Marco and says a few words while I sit, stunned. Marco sits back down next to me. I grab his hand and squeeze. He squeezes back.

After the governor and his wife speak, the dance floor opens. Marco tugs me to the dance floor and as music plays, he pulls me close and we sway to the music. I inhale when his hand grazes a sensitive part of my back. "Maybe I have been to hard on you," he whispers in my ear.

I don't say anything, I don't want to encourage retribution. Instead, I say, "I didn't know about your brother."

"You did not know because I did not want you to know."

"Well," I sigh, with my arms around his neck, my fingers play with his hair. "I am sorry for your loss."

"And I am sorry for yours."

"Two orphans who've lost a brother, aren't we a pair."

I'm fishing. I want to know about his parents. I want to know more about my captor and understand why he is the way he is.

"Yes," he replies softly. "We are a pair."

As we move around the room, I see a familiar face staring at me from the entry of the tent, looking on in a tux. Sebastian. The tuxedo doesn't fool me. I know him well enough. He looks awful like he hasn't slept for months and he's lost weight. He runs a hand through his unkempt hair, and gives me a look that plainly says, "Come to me or I'll come get you."

Fuck.

I can't leave because of what happened earlier.

How did he get here? How did he know where I was?

The song ends and we all clap for the band. A look toward the door but he's gone, however, I know if I leave I'll find him. The governor and his wife come over to talk to Marco. She's carrying a glass of dessert wine. The governor and Marco are in a deep and hushed conversation while Mrs. Governor and I stand awkwardly by.

I move to lift the skirt of my dress and in my effort, bump into Mrs. Governor. She's so inebriated, her glass slips in her hands and spills all over the side of my dress. "Oh, I am so sorry!"

I wave my hand. "It's fine," I glance at Marco who broke out of the intense conversation he was having with the governor to see what happened. "I'm just going to wipe this off."

He hesitates but he's stuck. The governor is prompting him to continue their conversation and he can't very well say no. He nods and I leave out the tent, walking in the direction I thin Sebastian went. I pretend to go back up to the house but am looking for Sebastian.

I'm slowly walking through the gardens when I'm pulled behind the statue of Helen of Troy. "Sebastian, what are you doing here?"

He gives me an incredulous look. "I've been looking for you for months."

"What?" I stammer. "How?"

He hugs himself to me. "I love you, Rachel or Viviana or whatever your name is. I love you and when you didn't come back, I did everything in my power to find you. I…" he pauses when he sees me wince at the way he's holding me and stands back to observe me. "You are too thin." His gaze looks at the hand I'm holding. Something catches his eye because he takes my hand and opens my palm. Furry clouds his eyes as he starts inspecting me, walking around me, his fingers gently graze my back. "What did that fucker do to you?"

He spots something because I feel the material of my dress move. Shit, this isn't going to be good. "He carved his name into your skin? That sick son of a bitch."

"I'm fine," I argue, checking over my shoulder. "You need to go, Sebastian."

He shakes his head. "I'm getting you out of here."

"Sebastian, stop!" I whisper yell. "There's no way you can get me out. It's impossible. You have to get out of here before Marco sees you."

"Reyes doesn't scare me," he scoffs. "I have invested heavily in a coup that's going to take place in a matter of minutes. Reyes has many enemies, it wasn't hard to find one that'd help me get you out."

Oh, God, poor Marco.

I curse myself. Effing hell, why was that my first thought?

Sebastian looks crazed and his boyish glow has dimmed somewhat, but still handsome. "You can't trust these people, Sebastian."

"Trust me, Rachel," he pleads.

Thinking about what awaits me when Marco and I are alone again doesn't make the decision too hard to make. This may be my only chance to leave this place. "Okay."

He smiles for the first time since I've seen him and it's that face that slumps against the carving of King Menelaus holding up Helen after a gunshot rings through the air. I scream and fall on my knees to tend to him. Tears burst from my eyes. Dark blood blooms from his jacket, spreading to his white shirt. Sebastian's eyes search for mine. "Sebastian," I whisper. "I'm here."

I apply pressure to his wound with my hand. With his remaining effort, his hand reaches up and touches my cheek. "I love you."

I nod into his palm. "I know, I know."

"It was worth it…" he says through labored breaths. "To see you again."

I don't care that Marco is standing, waiting for me to give him my attention. I place my lips on Sebastian's pale ones just before I see death overcome him. I'm sobbing, leaning on his chest, not caring about the blood I'm getting all over myself. What will his mom say? He loved his family, this will break their hearts and it's all my fault.

I turn to Marco, glaring. "You didn't have to kill him!"

"He was going to take you from me, I had no choice," he says casually. "Sebastian shouldn't have trusted Governor Dubois, the man is loyal to money and power, nothing else. I happen to be able to give him both."

"Now, get away from him so I can get someone to clean up the mess," he orders.

"No," I hiss. "I need to call his family."

Marco strides over and crouches next to me. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out his phone. "I don't think you realize how serious I am. You killed Sebastian Rudolf. I was prepared to let him go if you rejected him."

"You're lying!" I hiss because it can't be true. Right? Marco would've never let him go.

"I don't like killing at my parties," he tells me.

My fault.

"And this is your fault too," he dials a number and into the phone says. "Send me the Livestream link."

A minute later, I'm watching a girl with blond hair being ushered into a red BMW convertible. Tyler is at the steering wheel, Caroline in the passenger seat. He starts the car and then… I scream. "No, no, no," I cry, tears falling down my face, the explosion I just heard echoing in my ears. "No!" I scream.

I watch the plumes of smoke fill the air.

"You did this," I hiss, punching his chest and slapping his face. I get up to run away, maybe I can beg a guest to get me out of here, but he wraps his hand around my wrist and throws me down on the ground.

"No, Elena," he yells. "You did this. You just had to listen to me, if you had, they'd still be alive."

He's right. I know he is. I watch my tears spill on Sebastian's lifeless body.

"Surrender yourself to me and this never has to happen again. Put your trust in me and I will take care of you. I want to take care of you, you just have to submit," he says.

This is it. This is my life.

"Let me free you from the guilt you feel."

I soundlessly nod and take Marco's offered arm. He does more than that, he lifts me up and I tuck my head into my favorite spot, right in the crook of his neck so I can smell the calming scent of tobacco and spice. I breathe him in and allow myself to relax my head against his heart.

XXX

Author's Note:

First of all, I enjoy writing these Elena and Marco scenes as much as I enjoyed writing Sebastian and Elena. When I first came up with the title of this fic, Lovesick Toxicity, I knew that I wanted to show all sides of a toxic relationship. With Marco, we see all the dark and twisty and worst sides of a relationship that's based on manipulation and abuse. Elena, being Elena, tries so hard to understand him. She tries to remember the guy in Miami because as she notes, he makes a reappearance sometimes. When she tries to understand him, it's her own way of surviving and it's her way of preserving that part of her personality.

She does fight back. After her initial stint in the hell cell, she knew he wouldn't let her die, so she played chicken with her own life betting that he'd come for her. Like she commented, the price of a bullet would've been cheaper. She does this a few times, showing him that he can't break her. She sucks it up and takes it and plays him like the con artist she is. When she first goes upstairs, you don't really recognize her. She's compliant and melts into his touch. But, after watching her obsessively for four years and watching every reaction she had in her cell and later the bedroom, he knew what she'd do next.

Marco outwitted her. He's been outwitting her this entire time. In Miami, Marco knew Elena craved family, so he pretended like he had one she'd love. It is after all, what made her fall for Sebastian…something she's never really had, a real family. Her first time with other people, outside of her room is for a charity that honors his brother- everything he says is true in the speech he gives, but it's 100% a calculated move on his part.

When Elena realizes that he knew she wasn't being 100% genuine that first day out of her cell, we start to see the Elena we love come back little by little. We see her fight back more and more. That's when she outwits him because Elena is hard to break. She's been through a lot and can put up with a lot.

But there's one thing she has always struggled with, guilt. When Sebastian is shot, she immediately takes the blame, same with Caroline. Her guilt over her past, over Jeremy, over the events that happened just because she was born has always consumed Elena. In giving herself completely over to Marco, she's free. She doesn't have to think, she just has to listen and do as he says. He's been working up to that moment because we see moments when Elena doesn't recognize her own thoughts- the result of Marco being in control of all her basic needs, food, water, shelter, and affection.

Thank you for trusting the journey. I know it's been hard for some of my readers to not read Elena and Damon together, or at least get his current POV. THERE'S A REASON FOR THAT- TRUST ME. There's a reason I chose to post these chapters close together because I knew this part of her journey may be frustrating (hello, angst!). Elena has to go on this journey in order for me to get her where I want her. You'll see what Damon's been up to in the next chapter. The next chapter should be posted soon. Thank you for all the reviews, they truly make my day. Final note- this is a DE fic and there is an HEA but there's also so much more to come. Thank you for taking this journey with me! YOU ARE ALL THE BEST FANS!