A/N: I'm finally back after a much-needed break. So much going on in my life right now, but let's focus on the story. So I have been going through the reviews from the last few chapters and I would just like to say that I know that I have been focusing heavily on Caroline/OC, but it was needed to balance out the story. Otherwise, I would have major plot holes to deal with. I have decided to sway away from the happy-every-single-chapter like my other stories have been, and will be shedding light on heavy subjects. I will be inserting certain subjects that have recently affected my life and my family. My sister was recently hospitalized and lost her baby. She has told me that writing about it is the only way she can cope with the pain, so I will be doing this in honor of her. I will be incorporating this into the lives of our favorite characters. I am sorry if these next few chapters are a bit depressing, but I want to incorporate reality into my stories. Please be warned that there are dark themes that will be addressed in this chapter.

Thank you for bearing with me.

And now, the long-anticipated next chapter…

Chapter 19:

Carry On

"An Angel in the book of life wrote down my baby's birth. And whispered as she closed the book "too beautiful for earth."

The sun rose, pouring into the darkened bedroom of the beautiful brunette, sprawled across her bed. The past night had been spent cradling her stomach, unable to move. She had never felt so calm, like an eerie wave engulfing her entire body.

Damon had yet to respond to her texts, which she found curious. He had told her the week before that he was using one of Anthony's many phones after his went missing.

Her olive skin clashed with the pearl white cotton, her cheek pressed against the fabric. Her deep brown orbs remained locked onto the window opposite her bed, watching as the sunlight graced the room, slithering across the carpet before setting the bed ablaze.

Her eyes fluttered shut, feeling the rays creep across her skin, warming her icy skin. The knocks on her door remained unnoticed in a different dimension.

A strange tune wound its way around her head, suffocating her until she was forced to hum it the peculiar notes aloud. She kept her hand pressed against her stomach, wishing for the lives inside of her to acknowledge her presence and loneliness.

The world around remained spinning, though in that instant, her world came to a complete halt.

The urge had returned, an itch he couldn't scratch. He had faith up until he had received that text message from her. The words looped around his mind.

You'll never be good enough for me.

Stuck in an elevator traveling upwards, he leaned his head against the bitter metal doors, never cold enough to rival his frozen heart. Her smile was branded into his mind, never to leave him in peace. She would remain a figure of his imagination for the rest of his life.

She was once his, and now, she would be erased from his mind for that day. Tomorrow, he told himself, he would mourn the loss of a love.

The elevator continued its doomed ride upwards, up towards the one thing that could scratch that looming itch. Up…Up…Up…

His heart thudded louder as he straightened his back, eyes dark and foggy. The elevator had stopped. The doors slithered open. He could feel his heart blacken, mind shutting off.

He took those few steps out of the elevator, checked the number written on a scrap of paper drawn from his pants pocket and continued down the hall. The lights above him flickered, the wall paper grasping onto the wall as the corners were peeled back from the years, the walls were whispering to him.

126

His eyes grew darker, the storm brewing inside of him growing in intensity.

125

His heart slowed as did the thudding of his boots against the carpeted floor.

124

His entire frame froze, eyes locked onto the number placed above the door handle. His mind completely shut down, unaware of the dark road he was about to venture down. His hand rose, prepared to knock on the door.

Think about your kids.

His clenched fist froze, a mere centimeter away from the cold, hard surface of the steel door. The last time he had come knocking on this door he had nearly died. Would he really take that chance again?

You'll never be good enough for me.

It's a chance he would take.

The seedy couch had springs preparing to shred the surface, stains unidentifiable to him, yet he did not care. The man before him wore a dark sweatshirt, the hood pulled over his head. The darkened room aided him in keeping his identity safe.

"You got the money?" He came to the realization that he was not dealing with a man, but a teenage boy. By the sounds of it, no older than seventeen. The last time he had been in this room, he had met up with a much older man, more his own age.

Damon leaned forward, the leather of his jacket constricting his entire upper body. The boy tensed as he reached into his pocket to flash him his wad of cash. "You have what I want?"

The boy broke his gaze on the cash that had by then been placed on the grimy table before him, and lifted up the cushion before his hand reemerged with a clear baggie of the substance. Damon's eyes brightened, the urge reaching a climax.

"How much?"

The boy tossed the bag onto the table and swiped the cash, counting it to be sure. He quickly mumbled, "A thousand for that bag."

"No gimmicks? Nothing else mixed in?" He lifted up the bag and opened it before dipping his finger inside to get a quick taste. His entire body rejoiced when he consumed the tiny amount.

The boy nodded as he pocketed the money, "Nothing but the finest."

Damon sat back, eyes shut as he felt the rush coursing through his bloodstream. "You have a problem with me doing this here?"

The young man reclined, pulling out a cigarette from his jeans, "Nope."

The sudden rush coursed through her legs, pulsing at her ankles before shooting back up to her spine. She tried to sit up, but found she couldn't. She froze, still sprawled on her stomach.

Her heart began to beat wildly, her hands desperately grasping the sheets as the pain started its cycle once more.

"Ah! Bonnie!" She cried, biting her lower lip. Blood dribbled down her chin, the pain growing.

The desperate pounding on the door intensified, the muffled voice of her friend growing fainter as the world around her spun.

"Elena! What's happeni…"

The gush between her legs was the last thing she sensed as she slipped into the arms of unconsciousness.

She was greeted by the bright world, lights shining down on her. Voices were far off in the distance, but she could distinctly make out the words pouring from their lips.

"…may come as a shock…"

"…needs to know…"

"…waking up…"

"Elena?" The distressed voice she barely recognized gently whispered.

Her eyes cracked open, adjusting the brightness. "Caroline? Is that you?" She croaked, voice sore.

The blonde's bottom lip trembled, watching as her friend struggled to remain conscious. She gripped her pale hand lying beside her, "Yeah, it's me. I'm here and I'm not leaving," She choked on her words, tears cascading down her face.

Another shadowy figure stepped forwards, "Neither am I."

Elena sobbed, "B-Bonnie, what happened?" There were no words spoken, only the sound of sobs echoing throughout the room.

She grew frustrated, "God dammit, someone tell me what happened!"

Another voice entered the bunch, seemingly out of nowhere, "Elena, please calm down. The last thing you need is stress."

"Who the hell are you?" She bit out, "Can you please tell me what happened?"

The person stepped forwards as Elena's vision began to clear, "I'm Doctor Rosenfield. I work in the trauma center." It was quiet before she continued, "Elena, the pain you were experiencing was a miscarriage. I am sorry to inform you that you lost both of the babies."

She burst into tears, gripping onto Caroline with all her might, her chest heaving with the sobs erupting from her lips. "No…" She brokenly whispered.

"Elena, are you sure you are ready to hear this?" Doctor Rosenfield asked, eyes full of sympathy.

The broken woman nodded, eyes directed towards her shaking hands.

"The only explanation we have for the miscarriage is that you suffer from sickle cell anemia. Would you like me to explain what this is?"

Elena nodded, though her mind had closed off the world.

"This is when your blood cells are shaped like crescents which can block your blood vessels and cause serious damage. I'm afraid that due to this, the fetuses were unable to obtain the materials needed to survive," She took Elena's hand into hers, "If you choose to have children in the future, this may occur again."

Her entire body shook, "What are you saying? That I can't have children?"

The doctor cast her eyes to the floor, "I'm so sorry."

A/N: This was as much as I could handle. I'm sorry it's not longer, but I just about sobbed while writing this entire chapter. Thank you for the support.