Reponse to Anna Maria: I'm so glad that you like the story! The reason Katherine is in the mental sanitarium is because of a disorder called hypersexuality, colloquially referred to as 'nymphomania'. Basically, she was admitted because she was thought to have extreme sexual urges that were unhealthy. There will be more backstory to this, trust me. She's not psycho or homicidal (sorry), she's just had a hard life and is bitter. She and Kai both... understand one another, to a degree. They don't really get along with anyone else but each other. I guess you could call that friendship!

And yes, haha, I do love me some Kalijah, but I'm going to have to think hard about finding a way to include it in the fic, but I'll certainly try! Elijah is in the midst of a divorce so I'm not sure. As well as that, in the next chapter or two, you will find out what Jeremy said! Thank you so much for reviewing, your thoughts and inputs and questions mean so much to me! I love interacting. I hope you enjoy this chapter. X

Slight Stings And Pinches

Hayley didn't know why they moved her from her dorm with Bonnie and Caroline to one by herself, but she didn't care. She liked being alone, and not having to put up with their endless talking was great. However, while it had only been a couple of hours since she was moved, she already knew the one thing she hated the most about her new room. And that was the silence that night brought.

Ever since she could remember, she had shared a room with others. God, how she had hated not ever having her own space, not having somewhere where she could completely drop her guard and be herself. Yet, she had gotten used to it all; having to constantly clean up after others who lived as though they had no pride in their surroundings (her disadvantage was that she did), suffering through the abuse from bigger and stronger kids that often ensured, and the sound of other living beings at night time. The breathing, the snoring, the teeth grinding, rustling, sleep talking, walking, crying.

It reminded her that they were all in the same boat. Orphans, totally alone, moved from house to house, forced to room with people they barely knew, until they eventually turned 18 and got kicked out entirely because they'd have aged out of the system. It was shit, her time in the system, yet at least every night she knew that she wasn't the only one who had it bad. Although she was alone, she wasn't completely alone.

And it was during that time she was alone, but not completely alone, that she met the love of her life.

Jackson. The man who had loved her more than anyone ever could and would, the man who would protect her from everything and anything, the man who had given her Hope. Only for everything to be torn away.

Staring into the dark of her room, Hayley cupped where her stomach used to bulge with her Hope. A knot tied itself in her throat as she relived the sensation of having her baby torn away from her hands, of being told she would be an incompetent mother, of being informed her child would live the exact same shitty life as she had and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

And then Jackson died and-

Shit.

She wouldn't even think about it. She hadn't since it had all happened, and she couldn't. It hurt too much.

A tear fell from her eye. Hayley didn't bother wiping it; she didn't even bother trying to smother the sob that escaped her lips, because she was alone. There was no one there to hear her break. And so she did, Hayley broke. Letting everything she had held on the inside out, without even trying. She shredded the bottom of her shirt into shreds, dug her nails into her tummy and scratched at it until it bled, pulled at her hair until pieces tore out of their roots, ripped out cries of grief and loss until her eyes were dry and her throat raw.

And until there was nothing else she could do.

Then the worst possible thing happened, she had visitors.

"Excuse me, Hayley I'd like to intro- oh my good God, what have you done!"

The now turned on light burned her eyes, and through her bleary sight from bed, Hayley watched as the nurse, Sophie, twisted around in the doorway and yelled for 'emergency attendants and add-on restraints'. Her heart skipped up to her throat at what she heard, but she was just so tired. Too tired to even sit up as a flurry of white-clad men came in with leather buckled straps, too tired to even bat an eye as they manually straightened her out of her fetal position, to tired to even fight at they wrapped the restraints around her wrists and ankles and tied them onto the iron of her bed. She couldn't move, but it didn't matter anymore.

Asking for antiseptic and medical supplies, Sophie dismissed the attendants and approached Hayley's bed, kneeling down. "Oh Hayley, why would you do this to yourself?" She questioned sadly, stroking Hayley's hand comfortingly and brushing her messy hair away from her face. The nurses brown eyes moved down towards the bloody flesh of Hayley's exposed stomach, and she sighed, a crease forming between her brows.

"It doesn't matter any more." Hayley responded flatly, wanting to flinch away from the woman's touch, however she couldn't even make the smallest of movements in the restraints that were probably there to protect herself.

Sophie just shook her head. "You can't go around doing things like this, bad things will happen, and I won't be able to help you. You'll get sent away, and it'll be to another…" She didn't finish her sentence, but she didn't need to. Hayley knew that if another incident like that happened she'd be sent away to another ward, one that was for people who were a danger to themselves. Those were the ones that were on the upper floors, or as some people liked to say, further away from humanity.

"You don't need to tell me, Sophie. I get it, alright?"

The medical supplies arrived, and thus the conversation ended. Hayley watched silently as Sophie got to work at trying to fix what she had messed up. After lathering her hands in antibacterial sanitizer, Sophie grabbed a packet of disinfected wipes and started wiping away the dried blood that was staining her wounds. Hayley noticed the micro expression of shock that briefly hit her face when she saw the stretch marks that scarred Hayley's abdomen, and she felt a pang when her face changed from surprise to sorrow and pity. She hated that. Recovering from her brief stall, Sophie grabbed the bottle of betadine and soaked a cotton ball in it, quickly murmuring, "this may sting slightly", before wiping it across the cuts, causing Hayley to hiss in pain. And after that, Sophie brought out a large wound dressing and applied it to Hayley's stomach gently.

Sophie brushed the strips of Hayley's shirt to the side, lifted the blanket so that it was covering her, and then pulled it back down to Hayley's hips when she said she'd get "too hot" with it. After packing the supplies back into the first aid bag, Sophie fluffed the pillow under Hayley's head, and used a tissue to wipe her face clean. It was a strange sensation, to have someone be so tender and kind in their actions, and she didn't know how to react to it. So she didn't, and instead, just stared at the ceiling.

Nodding her head, Sophie rose and took a step back, awkwardly hovering near the door. "There is a reason that I came here in the first place, though, Hayley." As she placed her hand over the doorknob, opened it, and quickly disappeared from view, a flush of fear coursed through Hayley's veins, and her mind fluttered through all the possible scenarios that could've been happening.

"Hi, I'm Katherine Pierce."

The brunette stranger had only given Hayley a half-glance before she turned back to Sophie who had reappeared. "Hayley, this is your new dorm mate, Katherine. She's also going to be joining your group under Matt's supervision." She gave an awestruck Hayley what was probably supposed to be an encouraging grin, before she led Katherine over to her bed. "Katherine, this is where you'll be sleeping. The schedule down in this ward is almost exactly the same as where you were previously, however there is recreational time between one and five pm in the recreational room, where you can do as you please."

Katherine's lips parted into a delighted smile, and she nodded, almost eagerly. "Thank you so much for your help, Sophie, I really appreciate it." She drawled, voice hushed and the syllable of every word stressed, her eyes locking onto Sophie's and not letting go. "If you could please inform my dear ex-doctor Meredith Fell that I've settled in perfectly, that'd mean a lot to me."

Sophie looked at Katherine oddly. "Um, okay, sure. I can do that for you." She responded, a tinge of hesitation in her voice, and then gestured to a switch by the door. "If there's anything else you need, there's a call button just here that will alert any nurse or attendant. Lights out and doors locked at 8 o'clock, so you have fifteen minutes if you want to wander around and meet the others from your group, but you must be back by 8 sharp, otherwise penalties will be enforced."

With one last smile at Katherine, and an almost apologetic one to Hayley, Sophie left the room.

Having not yet been fully acknowledged by her roommate, Hayley held her breath, watching Katherine's back as she hovered in the doorway, seemingly trying to make up her mind on what to do next. Hayley secretly hoped that her new 'dorm mate' would want to meet the others, rather than get acquainted with her. Especially considering how she currently looked, her face still red damp from tears, her wound dressing exposed, and her arms and legs already stiff from lying in the same position for so long. She didn't want Katherine to meet her when she was in such a state.

But alas, nothing could be done, as the brunette turned around and laid her eyes on Hayley.

Katherine tipped her chin up into the air and crossed her arms as she examined Hayley, who avoided eye contact, hoping she could ignore her. Her soft waves framed her face, her slightly squinted brown eyes looked sultry, and she was tall and slender. She was glamorous, even in her pajamas. Hayley had no idea what a person like her was doing in a psychiatric hospital. After a moment, Katherine clicked her tongue and shook her head, before making her way with her back over to the adjacent bed.

"So you're Hayley, right?" Katherine started, almost half mindedly, as she pulled out a couple of items from a weathered leather duffel bag. She brought out three pairs of slippers, one in zebra print with pink fluffy trimming, another covered in golden glitter stars, the last with a plaid pattern and purple bows, all equally as tattered and worn as the next. Then, a small plastic vial of brand name roll on perfume, as spray on wasn't allowed, a wooden paddle brush with natural bristles, and last, but not least, a silver chain bracelet, with a blue precious stone pendant hanging off it.

Hayley eyed the things she had pulled out whilst murmuring a "yeah" that was probably too soft, but her raw throat couldn't take any more. In fact, she was in a little state of shock over how few things Katherine appeared to possess. For such an elegant and beautiful woman, Hayley thought that she would've had a flurry of beauty products, accessories, shoes and clothes. However Katherine, much like Hayley herself, didn't seem to have many things of importance.

Twisting around on her heel with her hands on her hips, she said, "Well, you already know my name." She sat down on the side of her bed, watching Hayley carefully, her eyes taking into account every minute detail about the person before her. "And what exactly brings you here, Hayley?"

Swallowing to try to lubricate her throat, Hayley looked away from Katherine's steady stare, and up to the ceiling, trying to once again distance herself from her whole situation. But of course, she was still fragile from her small breakdown, and she couldn't help the way her eyes welled up. "I'm here for passive aggressive personality disorder." She choked out, her hands fisting and toes curling up, deciding not to return the question, hoping her new 'roomie' would get that she wasn't in the mood to necessarily chat.

And Hayley could feel Katherine's eyes burn a hole into her stomach. She could feel Katherine's question silently screaming from her closed mouth. Sighing, she decided to just get it out with, and then attempt to fall asleep so she wouldn't have to think about anything anymore.

She ground her teeth, and turned her head to her fellow patient who was blatantly watching her, and started, "I hurt myself on my stomach when-"

"-I know."

"What?"

"I know." Katherine repeated simply, her tone almost throbbing and a well-shielded hint of sorrow in her eyes. Then, she pushed her covers back, slid into her bed, and rolled over so that all a speechless Hayley could stare at was the narrow back of her roommate who knew.

And Hayley realized what she meant by 'I know'.

The ache, the pain, the loss, the grief. It had all been there, right in front of her and right in Katherine. The only pain that could be attributed to the loss of a child. The kind of pain that only a mother could suffer. It was unique and terrible and instantly recognizable.

It had only been the span of a few minutes but Hayley was starting to think that maybe she wouldn't be so alone after all. Maybe not completely.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So Bonnie…" Matt began after she had settled in the seat across from him. She saw him ready his pen at the top of the paper on his clipboard, which was something she hadn't seen him do at any of her past sessions. "How do you think these sessions have been going for you over the past few weeks?"

That was it. Then and there Bonnie knew it was that appointment. The one where after quite a few sessions of mindless chit chat about trivial things such as what she did with her day and her favorite animal, the therapist would try and dig a lot more deeper, towards the 'center of her trauma'. It was always something she avoided, because, frankly, she hated recounting that night. And every time she seemed to do it, her condition worsened. She told every therapist of that simple fact, but they prodded her on anyway, pushing her and pushing her as if there wasn't going to be a drop, then acting surprised when she fell off the edge anyway. It was tedious and the whole reason why she was actually there in the first place.

She scanned her eyes around the office, trying to find something else to talk about. The room was small, with only just enough space for the chestnut desk that Matt sat on one side of, and the cotton covered armchair Bonnie was seated in on the other. But what it lacked in space it made up for in color and just stuff, because boy, was it busy.

The walls were painted an electric orange that would give any one a headache if they looked at it for too long. There was only one, miniature, steel framed window in the room that let in a minimal amount of light. A tall over hanging lamp sat in one corner of the room and was probably perpetually running. A, get this, clock with the backing of a yellow smiley face grinned at Bonnie, the arms showing her it was ten past five o'clock in the evening. She quickly looked away from its insistent eyes and towards the abstract art canvases that all featured the color green in several different shades: olive, jade, lime, emerald and more. They all lined the wall opposite the window; slightly mirroring what was on the other side of the glass, which was forest.

The air in the room was heavy and humid and smelt entirely of peppermint, which she attributed to the scent diffusing humidifier that was on one side of Matt's desk, next to a cup full of pens and a sloppily stacked pile of paper work and psychology books. On the other side of the desk, was a bonsai tree that sat in a blue glazed ceramic pot. Bonnie stared at that for longer than anything because she couldn't help but marvel at how the tree seemed to be thriving. Despite the lack of light in the room, despite its parched soil, despite its slanted trunk, its small branches that stuck out haphazardly, its over grown leaves, it was surviving. Bonnie admired that.

"Bonnie…?"

"-It was nice to see my Grams on Friday." She was snapped back to reality and blurted out the comment before she could stop herself, in a weak and obvious attempt to change the subject. "I showed her around the place and she agreed with me when I said that the facilities were better than any of the other places we looked at." Rambling on, Bonnie hoped that the subject would pick up. "I mean, its got classes which is totally rad, and I can learn things like yoga and meditation and how to actually draw because really, I have the art skills of a five year old."

And it did, because Matt seemed to forget his past question, as he began jotting something down, and then chewing the end of his pen for a moment, before looking up. "Was it nice to see a familiar face after almost three weeks in here?"

Bonnie nodded, feeling a grin creep up onto her lips as she thought of her Grams, the woman she loved more than anyone else in the world. She was flawed, of course, but she was only human. Yes, she believed in things like fate, destiny, karma, and a whole other dimension where she thought those who had passed away resided. Yes, she was a slight alcoholic who claimed to have clairvoyant powers about the future. And yes, she was sometimes a bit manic in how she acted, muttering about magical beasts and wonderful powers.

But she had practically raised Bonnie, and Bonnie loved her with her everything.

"It was." Bonnie admitted, now freely letting her smile rein her expression. "I miss her so much. She has always been there for me, so when anything was ever wrong, I could always go to her. It's been hard to not be able to do that."

He blinked, and seemed to ponder on that thought. "… You said that when anything was wrong, you could go to her?" He questioned, watching her intently.

"Yeah."

"Why don't you tell me about her? What is your Grams like, Bonnie?"

She let a rueful smile break across her lips at the concept of trying to define the woman who had helped raise her since she was a baby. There was just so much about her and one simple conjunction of letters just didn't seem to do her justice. She was a hard-ass, but kind and gentle, she was understanding but could be unforgiving, she was eccentric and unconventional, yet also truthful and realistic. So she just decided to settle on the start. "When I was younger, I used to be scared of her, Grams was kind of a no-nonsense kinda woman, and she wouldn't put up with any demands from little stubborn me. It resulted in me almost hating every time she came over or we visited her, because unlike my dad, she wouldn't take shit. But that was… Before." Her throat closed up on the word, and she had to swallow a few times before she could manage to gasp a breath in.

Matt didn't say anything, he just nodded, understanding or pity (Bonnie sometimes couldn't tell the difference) in his crystal eyes. Maybe he was being polite at her choke up, maybe he knew why. She didn't know what that file of his held. Yet, he didn't comment, and she started up talking again.

"Ever since I could remember she's always been into things like," she paused to let in a bark of nostalgic laughter, "the occult. She believes in divination, curses, karma, runes and all that kind of stuff."

Matt's eyebrows rose up into his hairline. It was a look Bonnie frequently saw on people's faces when she told them about those particular details. She didn't mind, she knew it was considered 'crazy', but she didn't care. It helped her cope, in a way. "Do you believe in things like that?" He asked; his pen readied at the top of his paper.

Bonnie just shrugged. "I… I believed in it was I was younger…" But she paused and frowned, muttering "no" to herself, because those didn't seem to be the right words. Bonnie didn't 'believe' in those kinds of things, the occult and divination and faith and destiny and magic, she- "I knew. It wasn't a belief, it was a fact to me, back then. Those things were as real to me back when I was younger as the sun and moon were."

He stared at her for a bit longer, an expectant look on his features, as though he was waiting for her to say more, but when her eyes wandered back to the bonsai, he asked, "But what about now?" His voice was soft when he prompted the thought track, because even though he didn't really know, he thought that perhaps it might delve deeper into her. Faith was a sensitive subject. Matt needed to be delicate.

"Veldismagn."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Veldismagn." She repeated. A beat. "It's a tattoo I have."

Matt sighed. "Bonnie, I asked you if-"

"-It's an Icelandic magical stave." He halted in the rest of his question at her interruption, his silence telling her to continue on. "I got it… After. I was only fifteen, and it was probably very illegal. But I wanted it."

"Does it have any meaning to it? Or did you want it just because?"

Grabbing at one side of the collar of her V-neck shirt, she tugged it down far enough, just so that he could see half of the ornate pattern that stained the skin of her breast, marking just above her where her heart supposedly beat. "It's traditionally meant to go on your chest and be drawn out in blood. I fulfilled the former and the latter to a lesser degree." Gently, Bonnie traced her finger over the pattern as she had before a million times, questioning whether she actually had done enough to activate its powers. "The stave is meant to protect me."

And it hadn't.

And it had.

Because while the scars of everything she had been through, everything she had seen, marred every inch of her soul, she hadn't been hurt.

Well, at least not physically. Not since that evening.

Grams was out of town, meeting up with some 'old friends in Denver', however Bonnie suspected she just wanted her to spend rare father-daughter alone time with her visiting dad. Bonnie wished she hadn't done that.

"Oh, well that's just fricken great!" Bonnie yelled at her suit-clad father once the sound heavy footsteps ascending up the stairs met her ears. Her teen angst was boiling over and drowning any piece of rationality she may've had left. But she couldn't help it. Instead of her father returning back to Mystic Falls for his usual holiday homecoming with the news that this time he'd be there to stay like she had foolishly hoped, he came back informing her that he was actually the new Mayor of Richmond, and wouldn't be able to visit them down in 'ye olde' Mystic Falls as often anymore!

Instead of raising her, instead of nurturing her and being there for every moment in her life, every birthday, every heartache, every success, every milestone. Instead of doing what he was supposed to do, instead of being her dad, he had abandoned her at the age of five to some woman relative, his own mom, who scared her shitless. All because he had been offered a job as the Deputy Mayor of Richmond, and for some reason, whatever he mustered up in the moment, he simply couldn't take her with him. But don't worry, he'd 'visit frequently'.

She loved him no matter what, and with every piece of her heart she hoped that each time he'd returned, he was there to stay. Bonnie was just so sure that this was it. But it wasn't.

And she hated him for it.

"Oh! Let me guess," Bonnie continued on bellowing into his taken aback and puzzled face, "another reporter who wanted to write a puff piece of the 'man of the people' in his home! Well let me tell you now, lady, this isn't his home! In fact-"

"-Bonnie, get in the closet." Her father interrupting order was quiet, and stark in contrast to how she had just been acting.

She was felt confused and confronted.

"Bonnie do as you're told." His tone was harsh, his eyes calculating, and his body posture defensive, hands fisted.

Crossing her arms, she shrugged. "Why-"

"-I didn't invite anyone over."

All the air left her lungs in the exact moment that she heard a door, the adjacent bathroom door, kicked open. The lock shattered loudly and she could hear the wood split. Looking to her dad, who had already grabbed one of her marble and iron cheerleading trophies in his hand, she could hear her heart pounding in her ears. Her mouth was dry, so dry that she could barely take in any more oxygen. She was trembling to run but felt as though she couldn't move.

Then, her heart stopped beating and the noise of multiple gunshots into the ceiling detonated her eardrums, leaving a jarring and deafening ringing sound behind. Nothing but penetrating ringing, ringing that was so loud it was almost as though she really wasn't hearing anything at all, and the taste of plaster on her lips that had sprinkled down from above.

She couldn't hear him, but when she looked through the tears in her eyes at her frantic father who stood by the door, and she could see his lips moving but she couldn't for the life of her hear him over the sound of the ringing and her heart attack.

And then red.

Red.

All she could see was red. Because while the ringing in her ears had quieted enough for her to hear her father hiss the words "get in the", the rest was smothered by the red that tore from the wound on his neck. Perhaps he would've been able to finish if it weren't for the man with the dagger who had swiped the blade across the skin of her dad's throat.

Like him, Bonnie could barely make a sound, and the one she did was a strangled shriek that escaped her throat as blood sprayed on her face, as the intruder dug his knife into her father's abdomen, once, twice, thrice, and soon too many to count. Rudy Hopkins collapsed down to the floor, the statue falling from his hand and breaking to pieces on the floor, crimson coating his once stark white shirt. Blood pooled around his body as he convulsed grotesquely, his limbs poking out either which way as he reached for help that didn't exist. More maroon squirted out of the marred flesh of his neck, gushing onto the murderer's face, onto Bonnie's walls, the ceiling, a photo of her and Grams on her tenth birthday.

She found herself unable to do anything but fall to her knees and stare as her father took his last gasps of oxygen in vain, as his death stained her bedroom. He died staring at his only daughter, who had watched as he was murdered. And even when he was suddenly still (so still that Bonnie almost expected him to jump up and laugh and tell her it was all a prank; he didn't) blood still spewed out. Suffocating on her own silently sobbed tears, Bonnie ever so slowly and carefully looked up into the eyes of the man who had just murdered her dad in cold blood.

They were green. Just like her own, although darker, with an undeniable madness deep inside, masked by a calm stare as he watched her. His lips twitched at the corners, and he was almost smiling. A dripping blade in one hand, a shotgun in the other, and blood trickling down his features. And even after using all his strength to stab her father hundred of times, he was disturbingly at peace, tranquil, as he turned towards her, crouching down so his gaze was level with hers.

"Hey there, little girl."

His voice was velvety and smooth, his words customarily pleasant and tone jovial. He lifted his hand, the one with the gun, up to give her an innocent wave. A grin, that might've been described as friendly if it weren't for the blood on his lips, painted his face.

"What, cat got your tongue?"

The only thing she had the strength to do was hiss through the knot in her throat, "You're sick."

His grin widened until it looked like his face was split. He pointed to his temple with the knife. "I am."

And ever so slowly, he edged forward, shuffling his feet in an almost comical manner.

"I'm Silas, by the way."

Once he was only inches away from her, Silas slapped one hand down on one of her shoulders, pulling her further forward so their foreheads rested against each other. She cried some more and he chuckled softly at that, pressing the barrel of the gun to the left of her chest, nearby her broken heart.

Through her welled up eyes Bonnie looked into his, feeling his breath feather across her lips and his fingers almost tenderly stroke her skin, staring death straight in the face. She couldn't help but feel ready for what she knew was coming. With her father had died her fear because she knew that she had just seen the worst of the worst.

But she needed to know one last thing. "Why?"

He misunderstood, or didn't care for her question. "I want you to know who I am because I want you to know the name of the man who killed your father, who will haunt your dreams for the rest of your life, who will scar you, and who will almost kill you, but not quite."

He brought his arm around her back and pulled her into his embrace, the gun now cutting into her breast, his lips by her ear and his hand cradling her head.

"Now this may feel like a slight pinch."

Everything seemed to go in slow motion. She barely knew what had happened until she felt the dampness on her breast, until Silas stood up and watched as she fell back onto the floor, until blood pooled out of her mouth, and then she felt it. The fire in her lungs. It was like something inside there had exploded and her lung had caved in on itself. Each breath was like a knife digging and twisting around her chest. Something was pressing down on her ribcage with terrible weight, the pressure increasing agonizingly slow until she could barely breath. Or maybe it was because she was choking on her own blood.

And she heard and saw all it too. The ringing and red; just like before.

And then sirens.

But it was too late. Or too early, Bonnie didn't really know.

She had been shot.

"It must've hurt."

"What?" Bonnie shot back quickly, quickly glancing down to where she had shown Matt her tattoo, because she made sure that when she showed him her tattoo earlier, she didn't expose the thick scarred-over wound the bullet had left, which was but an inch away. She couldn't talk about it. She wouldn't. The mere thought of doing so made her feel those emotions all over again, and it always felt like she had just been shot. She didn't like talking about it because she hated reliving it.

"The tattoo." He elaborated, and she sucked back in the oxygen she had been depraving herself of in her moment of fear. "It looks quite intricate, and that's a sensitive place, so it must've hurt a lot to get it done."

Bonnie nodded, understanding, her eyes so wide she hoped he wouldn't be able to tell that she was trying to dry out the tears that had welled up. She shrugged. "I was something I desperately wanted to get done. It only stung a bit, and it was worth it." Bonnie excluded mentioning she had been through worse pain.

Matt hummed in response, scribbling away at the page, and Bonnie liked the sound of the pen scratching the surface as he wrote. She watched his hand twirl and loop across the lines, almost in a trance. However, she was broken out of it soon enough, when he stopped writing, placed the clipboard to the side, leaned forward and rested his hands on the table, sighing in finality.

It made her nervous.

"Bonnie, there is another, perhaps, issue, that I need to talk with you about." He looked reluctant as her carefully eyed her, trying to gauge her reaction. Yet she remained neutral, a mask she had mastered a long long time ago. "Doctor Maxfield did an assessment of Kai and another patient up in ward D, and passed them as being clear to return back to ward A. Kai and this new patient, Katherine, will be joining us in our group."

She was silent. She wouldn't say anything. So he continued on.

"Now, Doctor Maxfield and I are aware that you and Kai have had problems in the past, however Doctor thinks that Kai is finally on the right combination medication that will decrease his violent and unpredictable tendencies. He also believes that attempting to move Kai into another group could be detrimental to his progress, as it will be his third therapy group and could inhibit his ability to create bonds with others.

"Bonnie, I know that this may not be the kind of news you want, but I want you to know that I will do everything I can to ensure that you are comfortable around me and the group and even Kai. Perhaps you two got off to a bad start, and hopefully his medication as well as regular sessions with his ward D doctor will have helped be able to communicate with others. If you would like, I could even set up a session with just you, me and Kai so we could talk out your issues in a safe space?"

Bonnie didn't know what else she could say. There was nothing to she could do to stop his transfer. And even then, Kai was sick, she was sick. Just because he had planned on doing something absolutely horrible to his family, just because he terrified her and perhaps reminded her of someone who haunted her nightmares, didn't mean that he didn't need treatment. Anyone who was sick in the head, whether they were innocent or guilty, needed help.

She had seen what the consequences of it being untreated could reap.

And Bonnie wasn't about to let a little thing such as fear of one person get in the way said person's progress, as well as her own. She had already done the latter for the past six years of her life, and Kai wasn't worth it.

"Thank you for telling me Matt. I appreciate the warning."

He almost fell off his chair at her calm response, yet he didn't, and instead chose to just stare at her, dumbstruck.

"Is this session over? I have a creative writing class to get to."

Matt simply nodded; Bonnie stood, thanked him as per usual, and walked out. Grabbing for his clipboard, he wrote at the bottom of the session page "Progress made".

Then promptly added an "?" as he really had no idea.

So there is some backstory to both Hayley and Bonnie and even Katherine (although that was lightly implied). Katherine is now a main. Anyways, thank you to everyone who has favorited and followed this story! It really means the world to me that you all like my writing enough to keep up with it, and I just hope you're all enjoying the story.

Please if you have the time, review and tell me what you think of this chapter and the story so far, it truly means a lot. If you haven't already, follow and/or favorite if you want to know about future updates! Once again thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. X

Next Chapter - After a group therapy session, Rebekah has a talk over lunch with Klaus, who has been acting strange. Katherine attempts to mind her own business and soak up some sun, when she is greeted by Caroline, who decides to join her. Subsequent people arrive. Kol has a therapy session with Matt wherein they talk about his past and how those resolved issues may still be hurting him.