Hi everyone!

Um... Not much to say. Only thing is that I only have ONE exam left! YAY! ALMOST OVER! My God, what will I do when I don't need to pour over textbooks? How will I go on?

Anyway, please enjoy this chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Diaries, or any of the characters – EXCEPT FOR TARI! And Rebecca.

XxX

Chapter Eight

Sick

The weeks passed by quickly. Before Tari knew it, September had gone and now it was mid-October. She would stare outside, watching the leaves begin to fall off the trees and swirl round on the ground. It reminded her of Central Park. She and her mother use to walk through Central Park every Sunday, their tradition. In the summer they would have picnics on the grass, enjoying the sunshine as it came. New York winters, after all, were pretty extreme.

The weather in Mystic Falls was not very different*, only now she couldn't imagine wearing her favourite little top. She was now reduced to wearing her new dark leather jacket, which wasn't so bad; after all, it was gorgeous. Damon, Elena and Stefan had taken her shopping to the mall. The boys had been surprisingly patient while Elena helped Tari pick out clothes and try them on. They were even useful, commenting on whether a certain top would look better in a different colour. Damon bought her whatever she wanted, not caring how much it cost. For Tari, who was used to living on a budget, it was definitely surprising.

And intimidating. It was clear that Damon had plenty of money – all of his clothes were designer, and all of Tari's clothes cost close to a thousand dollars. He had enough money to get whatever he wanted.

Then again, she did get new clothes.

But even now she found that she was still cold. All through the day she had kept her jacket on, puzzling all three of her friends. Sawyer in particular seemed immune to the cold, wearing a thin lacy pink top. "What's up with you?" Allen asked her on the daily walk home.

"What do you mean?"

"You've kept your jacket on all day. And you face is flushed," he said, examining it carefully.

Of course this made her face flush even more. "I've just been cold, that's all."

Allen raised an eyebrow. "You should get some hot chocolate. We could stop off, if you like."

His offer was very tempting – to spend some time acting like a normal teenager was too good to be true. But Damon had set the rules: if she wasn't back by four, he would come and get her and then ground her. "I have to get back home tonight, but maybe tomorrow?" If she gave Damon enough warning, then maybe he would allow her to go.

She arrived home just before four – she'd had to run the last part to make sure she got back on time – and as always Damon appeared at the bottom of the stairs. The girl had to admit, for everything Damon lacked, at least he checked in on her. He always knew when she was home, and as soon as she arrived he would come to greet her.

"Hey," he said, placing his hand on her back as he kissed her forehead. He immediately pulled back, scrutinizing her. "You're cold."

"Yeah, I know." She felt as if the entire room was made of ice. Quickly she went in the living room and started the fire. Damon leant against the frame of the archway, staring at her. He was trying to ignore the pangs of worry inside. He didn't understand how he had become such a worrier; such a fanatic; such a... What was the word? Oh yeah – such a Stefan. But he always fretted over the girl as if she was made of fragile china. He did his best to hide it from her, but he would always panic if she wasn't home by four – even in the minutes leading up to four o'clock he panicked. He use to be care-free, undaunted, unburdened. How had he changed so quickly?

"You feeling okay?" he asked, relieved that he didn't sound worried; merely curious.

Tari nodded, finally feeling warm enough to take off her jacket. "I'm fine. The weather just a little cold, isn't it?"

Damon sat on a stool beside her. "I thought New York was colder."

She shrugged, leaning closer to the flames. Damon surveyed her for a moment, but then gave up. If Tari was in pain, she would tell him. Nonetheless, he didn't go out that night, as if waiting for something to happen.

As Tari got ready for bed, she ignored the queasy feeling in her stomach. I am not ill; I barely ever get ill. She tried reading a book – The Island by Victoria Hislop – but reading began to give her a headache. She wanted to continue though. She was reading through all her mother's book – quite an extensive collection – and she was leaving the best 'till last i.e. the vampire novels.

Damon suddenly appeared by her bed. "You close your fist and move it back and forth." At Damon's blank look, she informed him, "Knocking."

"Well, this way I'll be more likely to catch you doing something you shouldn't." His eyes ran down the bed. "At least tonight you're already in bed."

"Hey, listen." Tari wondered what Damon would say; still, she figured best get to the point. "Tomorrow I'm going to be a little late from school tomorrow – I'll probably be back for five."

Damon glanced down at her. "Why?" He felt his heart tighten; he would spend another agonising hour waiting for her to arrive home.

"I'm going out with a friend for hot chocolate."

Damon crossed his arms. Usually he wouldn't care, but his daughter could be attacked at any moment; and more than that, it was his daughter. "With who?"

Tari stared up, defiance clear in her eyes. "A friend."

"More information," Damon commanded. "A name would be nice."

She sighed, sitting up. "Allen Bennett," she answered finally.

He hid his surprise, though it was difficult not to grin. My kid and Bonnie's... She won't be pleased.

Damon sighed. "Okay. Back for five though, no later."

Tari made a face. "Would I?"

The vampire rolled his eyes. He bent down and kissed her, once again frowning. "Now you're hot."

"Am I?" Tari had to admit, she didn't feel cold anymore.

Damon nodded, still frowning. "Damon, relax. I'm fine," she said, doing her best to smile.

He still didn't look satisfied, but nodded. "Okay. See you in the morning."

"Night," Tari called as he switched off the light. She hated it when he did that: it was as if he was forcing her to sleep whether she wanted to or not.

Tonight, even when she tried to close her eyes, she couldn't sleep. Damon was right – she was hot. She flung off the covers, spreading out to the cooler parts of the mattress. It was one of those moments when, you began to feel so rotten that you didn't care what happened to you. Right now Tari didn't care what happened tomorrow; she just wanted the sick feeling to go away.

But the opposite happened. Instead she felt the nausea feeling crawl upwards to her throat. She leapt off the bed, grateful that she had her own bathroom.

She threw up the lining of her stomach into the toilet. She felt her entire body strain as she was sick. Still, as she was throwing up, she felt someone pull her hair away from her face. Her mind couldn't focus on it until she finally felt her stomach empty. Her body relaxed, and she sat up. The girl felt dizzy, so she forgot about the person in the room until he handed her a cloth. "Thanks," she whispered, knowing who it was without needing to look.

Once she tossed the paper in the toilet, Damon carefully took her in his arms and carried her back to her bed. After he placed her on the bed, he raised his hand to her forehead. "You're too hot."

"I don't feel so well," she murmured.

Suddenly she found her head being lifted by a hand under her chin, and her eyes were looking directly into Damon's. "Hey," he said harshly, lightly pinching underneath her chin. "I don't care whether you're upset or we're fighting, or whatever; when you're ill you come to me, okay?"

Tari was too weary to feel annoyed or afraid by this; she simply nodding, closing her eyes. She was so tired...

Damon disappeared again, though he was back in a second. Tari wondered what it would be like to do that. She focussed on Damon, who was holding a bottle of tablets and a fresh glass of water. "Take these," he commanded.

Her head was pounding. "What are they?"

"Sedation tablets; they'll put you to sleep."

She took them gratefully, wanting sleep more than anything right now. She finished her glass of water and then gently lied back down. Her eyes were closed, but she felt the rustle of bedcovers as Damon moved on the bed. He switched the light off and moved towards her. "Here," he said, placing his hand on her forehead.

Her pounding headache quickly subsided, now only a minor irritation. For the first time she moved towards him, his cool body bringing her temperature down. "That feels nice," she murmured.

He smiled down at the girl. "I'm sorry you feel so bad," he said, not entirely truthful. It would have been better if she had arrived when she was a little girl; a little girl who wanted a dad to hug her all the time. But Tari was fourteen, just a teenager. Even if a teenager wanted her dad to hold her, she would never admit it.

"Me too," she murmured. She yawned. "Did you first meet Mom in Mystic Falls?"

That question woke Damon instantly. "Why'd you ask?"

"Curious."

He closed his eyes. "Yeah," he whispered, "I did meet her. At the Grill, actually."

I down my fifth – sixth – shot of vodka. I don't want to be here, but I don't want to go home either. If I do, I'll hear Elena and Stefan making love, celebrating their engagement.

God, I don't want to love her; I don't want to love Elena. But I do, and I'm sorry. I actually feel guilty about it: even though I had been teasing Stefan with my flirtations, I hadn't intended to fall in love with her. But I did, and now I wonder if I had secretly wanted this; if it was somehow my fault, I managed to tempt fate.

I need another drink.

I'm about to ask for a drink, but as I begin someone behind me says, "Vodka and coke please."

I turn, and for a moment catch my breath. Standing before me is a beautiful specimen of a woman, and I've seen a lot of women. This particular woman – girl – is wearing blue jeans, a long purple top and a black denim jacket. Her dark hair is curled, and her dark eyes bring out her pale face.

I smile. I have a perfect distraction. I haven't drunk human blood in a year, four months, one week and one day – like an alcoholic who knows exactly when he had his last drink – but perhaps it's time to start again.

"Y'know, it's rude to interrupt."

She shrugs, stepping up to the bar. She doesn't look at me when she speaks, just straight ahead. "By the looks of the glasses, you've had enough to drink."

I glance at the glasses and back at her. "With the day I've had, I haven't drunk enough."

She finally looks at me. I feel the complete power of her dark eyes. "Okay," she says. "I'll humour you. Why has your day been so bad?"

Since she was humouring me, I decide to be honest with him. "The woman I love has just agreed to marry my brother."

She doesn't wince, simply nods. "Wow," she says. "You did have a rough day."

I down another glass of vodka. "What about you? You got a sob story?"

She takes her drink, nearly emptying the glass. "Impressive," I say.

She acts as if she hasn't heard me. "You know what Santa Clause and love have in common? Doesn't matter, 'cause they don't exist."

I raise my hand. "I'll drink to that." I hand her a shot. "To non-existent love."

She brings her glass to mine. "To non-existent love," she echoes. We both down it in one.

"So," I say, "what's a pretty girl like you doing in a small town like this?"

"I'm house-sitting for a friend with my sister." She looks round. "She's always late though, so I guess I could stay with you until she gets here."

I try to appear casual, but on the inside I'm grinning. This girl is playing right into my hands. Hopefully with a little compulsion, I would be drinking her blood in no time; watching the fire fade from her dark brown eyes.

"You got a name?" I ask her.

She plays with the glasses, piling them up one by one. "Yep."

She doesn't continue. "You gonna tell me it?"

The girl smirks. "Maybe I'll tell you one day. What's yours?"

"Damon."

She blinks in surprise. "That was easy."

"You ask, I tell. I'm easy like that."

She giggles; the drinks are definitely getting to her. "Good to know. Will you pay me a million dollars too?"

"Maybe I will one day."

This conversation is losing its meaning. "How old are you?" I ask.

She raises her eyebrow. "What a promising question."

"Just curious." I would like to know a little more about my victim.

"I'm twenty two," she says. She grins, reminding him of a tiger. "I've shared; a deal's a deal."

"We made no deal."

"It was unspoken. I can take you to court if you don't comply."

"I'm twenty five." If I said I was nearing late hundreds she would think I was crazy. Or that I'd had too much to drink, which is probably true.

"So, Damon, what do you do?"

I smile vaguely. "This and that. What do you do, Little Miss No Name?"

She shrugs. "Nothing much now. But I'm hoping to get a job in a restaurant as a chef."

"A chef?" I'm laughing; for some reason the thought makes me laugh. She's met the one person doesn't need to eat. "What can you cook for me?"

She leans in closer; she had chicken for dinner. "Who says I would be cooking for you?"

"Who says you won't be?"

"Who says I will be?"

The conversation is turning to gibberish, so I call, "Bartender! Another round!"

"Make mine a double!" she calls.

I raise an eyebrow. "Someone's a lightweight. You've only had two."

She smirks, her eyes glittering. "I've had two shots. I had my vodka and coke and, last time I checked, you don't know what I drank before I came here."

I can't remember how long we're talking, but the next thing I know we're laughing hilariously at something that isn't funny. She leans towards me; I take the opportunity so that when she looks up my face is right in front of hers.

"Kiss me," I say, using my compulsion on her. She stares at my eyes for a moment, and then at my lips. I move in, and she raised her lips to meet mine.

But then she detours, reaching my nose. And instead of kissing, she bites it. Not hard, but enough to surprise me. And I thought I was the vampire.

Her eyes meet mine, a smirk back on her face. "There," she whispers.

The compulsion didn't work? "That's wasn't a kiss," I whisper back.

She lifts a shoulder. "Close enough."

"Becca!" She turns, and I see a petite blonde girl by the door. She looks impatient.

The girl steps back. "It was nice to meet you Damon."

But I can't let her go. It's not because of the blood anymore; I don't even feel thirsty. "You're name's Becca?"

She's almost escaped, starting towards the door. But she turns, staring at me. I can see her debating in her head. "Rebecca," she says finally. "My name's Rebecca Snow." Without another word she turns and leaves.

That was the first time I met Rebecca Snow, and I can honestly say that it changed my life.

Damon snapped back to reality as he felt Tari shift. She was fast asleep now, tucked away in the soft edges of dream world. It's as if he told her the story. But he knew he didn't. He never spoke about Rebecca, at least not before Tari was born.

He sighed. He shouldn't have relived those moments with Rebecca. Now he would get no sleep.

XxX

It was five in the morning when Damon woke up. He saw, to his amazement, that his daughter was still asleep next to him. She didn't feel as hot as she had been before, just a little warm. That was enough reassurance for Damon to leave her, going downstairs for coffee.

He sat at the kitchen counter, pouring himself a mug of strong black coffee. Admittedly he had slept fitfully, but it felt as if he hadn't slept at all. He knew it hadn't been to do with Tari at all, but Rebecca.

He knew it would cause problems bringing Tari here. It wasn't as if he would do anything differently with his daughter if he could turn back time, but... She just reminded him so much of Rebecca. It wasn't just the physical features, but their smile curved the same way; she laughed the same way too.

Genetics were truly an amazing thing.

"Damon?" Elena appeared suddenly. He wished she didn't have vampire speed; he had loved it when he'd been able to sneak up on her, when it was him that had been able to disappear and appear as he saw fit. "You're up early."

He raised an eyebrow. "So are you."

She shrugged. "You didn't answer my question."

Damon watched as she poured another mug of coffee. "Tari was sick last night. I was up with her."

Elena's expression softened. "Is she okay?"

"Still a little warm. She's not going to school today." At Elena's smirk, he asked, "What?"

"Usually it's children that beg to be off school; parents are usually the ones that have to drag them in."

He watched as she went into the fridge, bringing back two blood bags. "Yeah, well, I would prefer it if I could keep her in her room at all times I would."

Elena closed her eyes briefly. "I still think we should tell her. C'mon Damon, it's usually Stefan that keeps secrets; we can't stop you from telling the truth."

"She's my daughter, Elena. I don't want her to be terrified. Besides, we're watching her and so is Alaric. Maybe..." He was about to say, maybe we're being paranoid, but the memory of what Tari had seen outside the school was still raw in his mind. "I just want her to feel like everything's normal."

He felt Elena's brown eyes on him. "Damon, she's living with three vampires, unknowingly being protected by a vampire slayer, and she's your daughter. Her life isn't going to be normal."

XxX

When Tari opened her eyes, she forgot where she was.

She imagined her old room, small, stuffy and modern; unlike her bedroom now, where the wood would have been at least a hundred and fifty years old. Her room was too big, in hindsight. It didn't look like an ordinary girl's room. In fairness, she had left have her things in the apartment – some things she had outgrown; others reminded her of her mother.

"Hey." Damon came through the door. At least this time he hadn't just appeared in front of her. He had a concerned look on his face. "How're you feeling?"

She tried to sit up, but her head cried out in protest. "Okay. My head hurts a little."

He crawled on the bed, raising an eyebrow. "How much is a little?"

"A lot," Tari admitted.

This time Damon had come prepared. He handed her two tablets and a glass of water. "Take these," he advised. "They might make you sleepy, but at least your head won't hurt anymore."

She nodded and took both of them instantly. "Thanks," she said quietly.

Damon smiled, and it took Tari completely by surprise. It was such a soft, gentle smile, one she had not really seen on his face. He reached over and stroked her dark hair. "You should go to sleep. You'll feel better once you wake up."

After he left, Tari lay on the bed. She didn't get Damon: he seemed such a dark person, what with his hair and clothes. Yet he was becoming especially cuddly lately. He was constantly playing with her hair, holding her, pulling her along with him. When she had first arrived in Mystic Falls, she had barely seen him for two or three days. Now she would be lucky if she didn't see him more than once a day.

She smiled up at the ceiling. It was kinda nice.

XxX

The next time she woke up, Tari bolted up. She now realised what had woke her up: both Damon and Stefan were in her bedroom, holding the living room television between them. Damon and Stefan, holding what would be the most entertaining thing in this house between them? Shit.

"What are you two doing?" she asked in alarm.

Both looked up. "You're awake," said Stefan.

"How're you feeling?"

"Did you get enough sleep?"

"I'm fine," Tari answered generically before saying (in what she thought was a calm tone) "What are you doing with the television?"

"We thought you might be bored, so we decided to bring the television up," answered Damon. "We would have gotten here a lot faster if Stefan hadn't spent an hour pulling out plugs."

"I was not just pulling out plugs. I was-"

"Reading the instruction manual like it was the bible?"

"At least I wasn't about to break it by rushing up the stairs."

"I'm hungry," Tari announced. She hadn't eaten since dinner last night, and even then she had left half of it and puked up the rest.

"Just plug it in already-"

"You just want to see the game-"

"I want to see Jerry Springer-"

"I thought this was my television?" Tari interrupted.

This was the statement that brought her attention. "It's not yours," Damon snorted. "We're lending it to you. Once you're better it's going back down to the living room."

Tari smiled sweetly at him. "Can I have pizza now?"

"I thought you were sick?"

"I am," replied Tari, though she was feeling much better now; her pounding headache had subsided into an annoyance. "But I still want to eat."

Damon rolled his eyes, but disappeared. She turned to Stefan. "Is that better?"

He grinned. "Thanks T."

Waiting for the pizza, Tari sat and watched Stefan work. Stefan didn't talk much, but in a way she found that comforting. It was nice to know that she didn't need to speak; that the silent was comforting. There was no pressure between niece and uncle.

When Damon arrived, carrying a large pepperoni pizza with him, he found his daughter asleep on the bed. "She just fell back to sleep," Stefan informed his brother, plugging the television in.

Damon climbed on the bed, running his hand on the girl's forehead. "She's not so hot anymore."

Stefan joined the two on the bed. "Good," he answered, holding the remote. "That means she's getting better."

Damon nodded, pulling Tari's head onto his lap. "What's on television?"

"Basketball, hockey, news..." He paused. "Scrubs," he said after a moment.

After exchanging a glance with Damon, the two settled down to watch.

XxX

Elena, when arriving him, was usually greeted by Stefan. If not, sometimes Damon and on occasion Tari. She was rarely standing the hallway alone.

"Stefan?" she called. "Tari? Damon? Is anyone here?"

There was no answer. Yet Tari was meant to be sick. Shouldn't she be in the house? She doubted even Damon, as wild and irresponsible as he could be, would leave her alone; and surely Stefan wouldn't leave home.

A sickening feeling twisted in her gut. What if Tari had gotten so bad, she needed to be hospitalised? Could vampire blood heal a cold?

Quickly, she rushed into Tari's bedroom. A sight appeared in front of her, one that she hadn't expected to see.

Damon, Stefan and Tari were watching the television. Tari was actually in the bed, while Damon and Stefan were next to her. Elena stepped forward, alerting them to her presence, though none of them made a move to greet her.

"Hey," she said.

"Hi," the three of them chorused, none of them moving their eyes from the screen.

"What are you three doing?"

"Watching Frasier," Damon answered.

She placed her hands on her hips. "So, I've been working all day, and you lot haven't been cooking dinner or cleaning, but watching the television."

"I'm sick," was Tari's excuse.

"Do you want to watch?" Damon asked.

She was almost speechless. "Wha-? Damon, we need to have dinner. I like to think that we at least pretend to be normal. Tari still needs meals-"

"I'm not hungry."

"And CSI is on next," Stefan added.

Elena paused. "CSI?" she asked.

In less than two minutes, she was sitting next to Stefan, watching television with the rest of them.

Almost like a family.

XxX

* I don't have a clue what the weather like is in Virginia. I know it's not going to be boiling like it is in Florida, all round sun, but I don't know how cold it is. So I just assuming that it gets cooler October and then starts heating up in March. Anyway, let me know if I'm making any mistakes!

So, read and review! Once again, for all those who have already reviewed, I really truly appreciate it.

P.S. Sorry if there are any spelling/grammar mistakes. I'm trying to get it posted at...one in the morning, so I may not have noticed. Sorry!

xXx

03/07/11: Not my best chapter, I have to admit. But I thought it was sweet, the interaction with Damon and Tari. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!