Hi guys!

Okay, so I think I may have made a big mistake. Not a mistake such as I'm – scrapping – this – story – because – it's – crap kind of mistake, but more of a Oops – I – did – it – again. You see, I think that with this story, I should have started with this chapter and not written the prologue, therefore recreating the accident through recollection of Tari's memories as they come back to her – in dreams? That would have worked much better with the way my story was going. But, never mind! Perhaps this lesson will come in handy for another time...

I'll tell you something, it PAINS me to write it as if Damon and Elena can never be. I never realised I was such a Damon/Elena fan until I could not have them together. But don't worry, they'll be good friends; the relationship with Stefan and Damon will be quite good too, but it might be a bit up and down.

I would just like to say thank you, once again to all my reviews. They make my day, and I'm not just saying that. Thank you SO much for taking time to review my story – trust me, it helps.

Again, as always, I can't promise that I will always continue with this story. Inspiration comes and goes, and I'm afraid none of us can control it. I am a little worried that it will happen with this story, because it does seem a challenging one to write. Don't worry; I am going to do my best to keep it going. But, once again, no promises.

Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Diaries or any of the characters – except for Tari.

Chapter One

Dreams are always better than reality

The sun is shining down on me. The grass is long and deep green, allowing me to run my hands through it. I have never felt so peaceful before. Somehow I'm not thinking about the future, or even about this past. I'm living in the here and now, and right now nothing is wrong. Everything is fine.

"Tari! Tari!"

I lift my head, slowly looking round. I just heard my mother, but I can't see her.

"Tari!"

I stand up, the breeze blowing my hair round my face. "Mom?" I call back, but still I can't see her. Inside my head, something is reminding me that this has happened before, I just can't exactly remember when. But my heart is beating fast, and I feel sick. This is wrong, I realise. I don't know why the silence, why I can't see my mother, is scaring the hell out of me, but it is.

Then, suddenly, another wave of calm washes over me. For some reason the fear that I felt just seconds ago has disappeared. It doesn't matter. Here – wherever this was – was too peaceful to believe that anything bad could have ever happened.

I close my eyes and let myself sleep.

Tari couldn't remember what woke her up, but she wished she'd stayed asleep. Her chest was heavy and painful when breathing, while her arm was stiff. Eyes still closed, Tari tried to move her left arm. Pain scorched up her arm, burning like fire.

Her eyes shot open from the agony. Sitting up carefully, she whimpered as her entire body begged to lie back down. Her mind felt groggy and slow, like she had woken up from an operation. Feeling like this, she wasn't so certain she hadn't been in one.

"Be careful." The voice caused her to jump. "You'll still be a little sore."

The girl opened her eyes, disbelieving. She knew that voice – half her life she had yearned for it, memorising a line of words before she fell asleep, so desperate to hear it, so overjoyed when she did.

So distraught, when she didn't.

"Damon?" she whispered. What the fuck is going on? How did she get here?

He smiled, one that Tari had longed to see – and in her few short years she had only a few times – and said, "How are you feeling?"

"Er, not so good." She had a banging headache, but something in her mind was bothering her. It was Damon's smile. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something about his smile just wasn't quite right; like it almost pained him to plaster it on his face. She didn't know why, but it sent shivers down her back.

"What happened?" Tari questioned.

Damon did not answer the question. Instead he stood up and came to her, sitting on the bed. Her skin tingled as he brought a hand up to her hair, smoothing it against her head. "Perhaps you should sleep?" he suggested. He did not want to have this conversation now; he knew he couldn't avoid it, but he wanted more time – to prepare what he had to say to this child.

But Tari had her father's stubbornness – or maybe her mother's? "What happened?" she persisted. Her mind, though sluggish, knew something wasn't right. Why was she in bed? Why was she so sore? "What's going on?"

Damon hesitated. "Tari, don't you remember anything?"

No, she wanted to scream. Instead she scowled, though it caused her face to ache. She pushed her memory to kick into gear, to make her remember. The last thing she could clearly remember was her mother, springing the surprise on her: they were going to see her father. Tari had leapt at the idea: she didn't often get to see Damon, though he only lived a few hours away. They had been driving...

She choked on thin air, her mind suddenly accessing what she couldn't before. "The car – we crashed!" Memories of struggling in the deep water attacked her, coming at her all at once.

"Wait," she began, and Damon prepared for the inevitable. She stared up at him, her blue eyes beseeching. "Where's Mom? Is she okay?"

What could he say? What could he, a cold and heartless killer, say to this child? It should have been easier than talking to someone else, easier to explain it to them. But somehow, telling his own daughter than her mother had died was harder than anything else in the world.

Yet he didn't have to. Because he didn't answer, she knew the truth. Though she did not want to believe it, even though in her mind she did not acknowledge it, she knew. "Damon, where's my mother?" When he still didn't reply, she gripped his arm so tight that Damon swore, if he had blood circulation it would have been cut off. "Dad, where's Mom?"

Tari so rarely called Damon "Dad". He felt his unfeeling heart seize up with pain, almost unbearable.

He looked away. "I'm sorry," he told her, the only words he was able to manage; the only words Tari was unable to take apart and rework the meaning.

"No. No!" Her scream caused his sensitive ears to react, immediately aching. Yet he did not cover them; he forced himself to listen to his daughter's pain. "You're lying!"

She pushed past him, despite the soreness of her body. Damon, caught off guard, watched for a moment as she began to walk to the door. Well, rather limp than walk.

With speed Tari didn't know he had, Damon blocked the entrance of the door with his own body. "Let me go!" Tari tried to push her father out the way, but this time Damon would not be taken by surprise.

"Tari, please calm down," Damon commanded, his voice distant.

"MOVE OUT OF THE WAY!" Tari tried to slip past Damon, but he blocked her with his arm. Catching the girl he pulled her back in the room.

"Where are you planning to go?" He could feel anger beginning to creep up, churning in the pitch of his stomach as if he was a volcano.

"I NEED TO FIND MOM!" she screamed. Deep inside the girl knew she was being ridiculous. But she could not contain herself. They're wrong; Mom's alive; they're wrong; Mom's alive. The alternative was too difficult to comprehend.

"Tari, it's okay." Damon turned his head to see Elena step out from the shadows. Her eyes were big and bright, looking towards Damon's daughter. Damon hoped that Elena would help Tari get through this – after all, she was the one who experienced the death of both her parents. Damon himself remembered when his own mother had died, but he refused to talk about that with anyone. Elena would understand what Tari was going through; she would help her.

This distraction was all Tari needed. She shot past Damon and Elena, the former reaching out to try and stop the girl. He shot a look to Elena. It wasn't an angry look, more of an overwhelmed now-look-what-you've-done. "She wants to go outside," he informed his sister-in-law.

Elena did not need anything else to be said. Turning quickly, the two of them raced down the stairs as fast as they could – that is, without using their usual super speed. But even with the girl limping, she still would have managed to get to the door first if Stefan hadn't been in the way.

The youngest Salvatore stood in front of the door, blocking Tari from exiting the house. "Uncle Stefan let me out," Tari commanded without pausing.

"Tari you need to calm down." His voice, like Damon's, was distant, but his face showed sympathy towards the girl. "You should sit down, take some deep breaths, maybe have a drink."

"I don't want to sit down!" Tari shouted. She felt Elena and Damon coming down the stairs, Elena going to guard the living room door. Immediately Tari felt as if she was a tiger, being boxed in. Well, she was ready to draw blood if she needed to.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. "Tari, come back upstairs," she heard her father say.

Tari shrugged him off, once again going for the door. Stefan grabbed her wrist. Shooting a glare at her uncle, she tried to move to the living room. It was Elena this time that moved in front of her. "Tari-" she began, but the girl interrupted.

"STOP TELLING ME TO CALM DOWN! I NEED TO FIND MY MOTHER!"

Damon felt something inside him snap. His fury was now raging inside him. Despite this, he managed to keep somewhat composed, though his anger was definitely the driving force behind his words: "You're mother is dead."

No one had said it out loud before. Tari paused, while both Stefan and Elena stared at him – well, glowered at him, though in different ways: Elena's face was furious, Stefan's more exasperated.

Slowly his daughter turned to him. Both Stefan and Elena recognised the look on Tari's face; it mirrored Damon's when he was furious and yet, just like him (for the moment) she remained calm. "She," Tari said quietly, stepping towards her father, "is not dead."

Damon's expression held no sympathy. He looked down at his fourteen year old daughter. "We've seen her body. She is dead, Tari."

Damon's blunt words seemed to finally sink in. Tari stepped away from her father, her eyes still holding his. "No," she hissed. Her body began to tremble and her teeth started to chatter. "No," she moaned.

None of the adults were sure how it happened, but suddenly Tari began sobbing hysterically. Elena went to the girl, but Tari pushed her away. It wasn't as if Elena wouldn't have been able to stay there, but that she didn't feel she should – should act as if she was a human that could be shoved aside. The girl was out of control. Elena tried to remember what she had been like when she found out her parents had died; all she could remember was the strong outburst of pain taking over her body.

Damon walked over to Tari, forcing the girl to her feet. "Tari, look at me." The girl shook her head, her tears cascading down her face like raindrops on glass. She struggled in his grasp, making Damon sincerely glad he was a vampire. "Look at me."

Finally, Tari lifted her gaze to her father. He made eye contact with her. "Sleep," he said, doing the one thing he vowed he would not do.

The girl's eyes fluttered before completely closing. Her legs went but luckily Damon had hold of her. Head falling to the side, the girl slipped into a compelled slumber.

xXx

"Damon, you shouldn't have done that."

The three Salvatores were in the living room. Elena was sitting on one end of the sofa that had become known as her favourite seat, and Stefan sat opposite in the comfort black leather couch, his spot. Damon's armchair, on the other hand, was empty. The oldest was standing by the window, looking out.

"She was hysterical," he answered in a monotone. "I needed to have her calm."

Elena opened her mouth, but was silenced by a look from her husband. Though Elena was close to Damon, Stefan knew how he was feeling right now; he also knew that if Elena kept pestering his brother then he would rip her head off. When it was about this, there was nothing Damon wouldn't do.

Finishing his glass of scotch, the eldest Salvatore quickly refilled it. "I won't do it again," he promised no one in particular. "She's going to have to face this pain sooner or later."

Elena closed his eyes. "Oh God, I forgot how much it hurts." She ran her hand through her hair. "It's going to take her time to get through this."

"Give the girl a banana," snarled Damon.

"I'm just trying to help Damon!" Elena snapped back.

"Yeah well, fighting isn't going to help." Stefan, the peacemaker as always, stepped in. "We need to focus on helping Tari."

"But – what do we tell her about us being..." Elena let her voice trail off. "She doesn't know we're vampires."

"Not now," Stefan advised. "We'll tell her, but not while she's still upset about her mom."

Damon sank in the arm chair. It had been a long night. His mind was going in circles, Rebecca and Tari, one hurting and one dead. Yesterday... Yesterday they were both fine. Amazing how much a day can change everything...

"Let's get back to the main topic," Stefan began. His green eyes met Damon's cobalt ones. "This car crash wasn't an accident."

Damon closed his fist, the glass cracking in his hand. He ignored the pain, only allowing it to fuel his anger, only one thought running through his mind: revenge.

I'm eating a bowl of cereal, reading a novel – Sarah Waters' A Little Stranger – when my Mom enters. She looks tired and anxious. I try to think what could be causing it: is she stressed over her job? Probably, but it's a Saturday, and generally she doesn't think about work on her day off, so that can't be what she's worried about. Is it her boyfriend? She doesn't have one at the minute. Finally I reach the only other thing that could cause that expression – me.

She sees me looking at her, and smiles, in a tired sort of way. "Tari, we're going to take a little trip."

My heart starts beating quickly. Nothing is outwardly wrong, but there is something in the air... Maybe it's just me. I can be over-sensitive about these things.

"Okay, where?"

She smiles, her eyes lighting up a little. "We're going to see your dad."

I stare at her. "Damon?" I ask, just to be sure.

She laughs. "Who else do you I think mean?"

I leap up. "Really? This isn't a joke?"

"Of course not," she says. Her smile is truly bright this time.

"How long for?" I ask.

"Just for a day," she says. "Now go get dressed, if you want to spend some time with him then we'd better leave in the hour. We'll surprise him."

I nod, dancing happily to my room. I'm going to see Damon, I want to shout. I'm going to see my dad! I barely ever see my father. We email often and sometimes talk on the phone, but he's like a beloved uncle than a dad. I smile, unable to contain it. I can't help it – yes it's completely babyish but who the hell cares? I'm going to see my dad!

She turned her head. Her bright pink alarm clock that was usually on the nightstand wasn't there. In fact, the entire room looked wrong. She didn't recognise a single bit of it. She was bemused, but then she felt her body stiffen.

She could hear someone breathing next to her.

Carefully Tari sat up, being sure not to move the covers. Holding her breath, she turned to look at the person next to her. Through the darkness of the night, she saw the pale arms of a man; hair dark, in this light, looked black; and his face...

The events of the previous day came flooding back. Her arm was lifted to her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. No, she told herself. Don't cry here. She wanted to scream, wail, sob, bang her fists against a wall, but not here. She couldn't do it with Damon in the room. She didn't want anyone to see her break down.

Very quietly, so much that even she couldn't hear herself, Tari slipped out the covers. The girl tiptoed to the door of the bedroom, which was closed. She bit her lip as she turned the door handle and gently pulled the door forward, waiting to see if her father would hear it. She turned her head, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief when she realised Damon hadn't woken up.

She closed the door behind her, and then hurried down the hall. She thought she could hear Stefan and Elena talking. She quickly paused, waiting to see if they had heard her. After several minutes of listening to their low voices, Tari was certain they hadn't noticed the noise, however quiet she had been.

The girl hurried down the stairs, a little faster than before. Once in the foyer, she hesitated. What do I do now? she asked herself. I don't know the house very well. Where can I go?

Not to her surprise, her eyes went to the front door.

I'll be quick, she told herself, though she wasn't sure if she quite believed it. But what was she going to do? She was in bare feet and pyjama bottoms and a hoodie (halfway down the stairs she had realised that she hadn't been wearing her previous clothes. She shuddered to think who changed her). How far could she actually go?

She walked to the door, a little bit of enthusiasm building. She hadn't seen the gardens of this place for ages. It would be a good place to hide and shed her tears.

The door was locked, but the key was on the table next to it. Tari twisted it in the lock, her heart pounding.

She only just pulled the door ajar when someone slammed it back shut. A pale hand on the wood told her all she needed to know.

Reluctantly she lifted her head. Damon was standing over her, his shoulders hunched over her body as if he was trying to protect her instead of being her captor.

His blue eyes were cold, but Tari could see the quiet fury underneath it. Tari had spent enough time with her father to know he liked to have fun, he didn't take too much notice of rules – but that was other people's rules. His rules were to be obeyed, no exception.

Damon reached up to the lock on the door and twisted it, then reaching down and locking the door using the key. He never took his eyes off his daughter. Tari fought the urge to tremble. She had never seen Damon this cold before; never known he could be this terrifying.

Once making sure the door was locked, her grasped her by her upper arm, swiftly lifting her into his arms. He carried her back up the stairs and to the bedroom. The girl felt tears building behind her eyes once again, though in the dark she was able to blink them away without Damon noticing.

At least, that's what she thought.

When they arrived back in the bedroom, Damon placed her on the bed before crawling in himself. "Sleep," he commanded, his voice void of any emotion.

Tari shook her head, sitting up. "Let me go."

Using one hand Damon pushed her back down to the bed. Tari fought to sit up, but he was stronger than she expected. "No." He fell asleep on his stomach, just like he always did, except this time he snaked his arm over her stomach, keeping her with him. She wasn't going anywhere, not tonight.

Tari turned away from her father, tears sliding down her face. She was unsure of herself, and of Damon. Why was he so hell bent on not allowing her to leave the house? Did he think she was going to try and run? Was she? At this point even she didn't know what she was going to do.

Right now, all she wanted to do was talk to her mom.

She pressed her lips together to hide her sobs. It didn't matter though – Damon felt her chest beginning to shake. Inwardly sighing, he pulled her into his grasp, placing her head close to his chest. "Shh," he murmured to the young girl. "I know. It's okay."

With those words, Tari began to let herself break down. She pressed his face to her father's chest as she cried, and Damon placed his chin on her head. Breathing in her scent, he felt a wave of guilt attack him. I'm so sorry Tari. This is all my fault.