DISCLAIMER: I only own the plot (of the fanfic).

Chapter 7
I'm Scared

"I want to be with her." I demand as a male nurse holds my shoulders by the "Restricted Entrance" doors.

"Ma'am your daughter is headed for emergency surgery, we can't allow you inside the prep room at this time. She should be out in two to four hours. For now please, just take a seat in the waiting room, do you have someone you can call?" He asks me. I stop trying to push myself past him, and shake my head.

"No, I don't." I answer, fixing my pajama top that drops over my left shoulder.

"If you'd like, head home and grab your daughter some underwear, a pillow maybe, and anything that can make her comfortable. Recovery lasts about a week in the hospital. She'll be fine." I cross my arms and think for a long moment before readjusting my purse and walking away.

I leave the ER and head for my car, unlocking the door and sliding into the driver seat. As I sit there and take a deep breath, all of my worries flood with it. I begin to shake with tears as my hands grip the steering wheel and my forehead presses against it. I sob harder than ever before and begin to mumble something similar to a prayer. I begged for my daughter's safety, and that I could still hold her hand and stroke her hair and kiss her forehead.

I compose myself within ten minutes and start the ignition, beginning my journey home alone, without Willow in her car-seat as usual.

When I get home my fingers are numb from the ongoing pressure I've held on the wheel. I was exhausted, my eyes drooping in protest to my demands of staying awake. I look to the clock and notice it's only been 20 minutes that I've been apart from Willow, she'd probably be in the operating room right now.

"Hey." I jump when someone knocks on my window. I turn and see Damon standing there, his eyes sympathetic and features rigid with panic. I scowl at his presence.

"What do you want?" I demand angrily, climbing from the car and slamming the door shut.

"I saw you rush Willow to the ER. Is she okay?" He asks frantically. "Did she get hurt? Or sick? Or-"

"Stop it, Damon!" I demand, stopping short of the house and turning to face him.

"Why? She's my kid too."

"No, she's my kid. You don't need to worry that she's in the hospital. I do. So just leave me the hell alone."

"I already tried doing that and I can't. I want to be apart of her life; I've already missed the first four years." He pleads.

"And who's fault would that be?" I snap, cocking my head to the side and raising suspicious eyebrows.

"I was scared and thought you weren't going to go through with it. After Stefan ran into me and told me that you had her, and kept her, something in me changed. I knew I had to be there for you and for Willow. " I roll my eyes and begin to walk away, "Please – Elena!" He calls, vamp speeding next to me. "At least let me drive you to the hospital again. You haven't slept and you can use the ride as a sleeping opportunity. Please, I don't want you getting in an accident." I tap my foot impatiently and consider this offer before finally shaking my head.

"I'll be fine as soon as I drink some coffee." I say surely. "Thanks for the offer though." I walk into the house and close the door before he can get anywhere near me.

"Elena!" He called, knocking on the door. I ignore him and head up the stairs to Willow's room. I enter and sadden at the sight of her sun lit room, the 7am sunlight bursting past the curtains. I grab her backpack and toss in a few sets of pajamas, along with multiple underwear and her book. I place the bag next to her pillow and head over to my room to change out of my pajamas. Once I'm dressed in a pair of new leggings, a shirt, and hoodie, I make the bed and pack our toothbrushes and tooth paste along with a hairbrush. I draw my hair into a ponytail, fixing the loose pieces that have fallen free over the past few hours.

I grab the backpack, her pillow and my purse before heading to the kitchen and starting a pot of coffee. I grab my large thermos along with a second one that isn't as big. It takes five minutes for the coffee to brew, I pour the mugs to the brim and add an appropriate amount of sugar before heading for the door. As suspected, Damon was seated on the porch swing, his head in his hands and leg bouncing in anticipation.

"Here, the heat will make you feel human to the touch." I remind him, handing the travelers mug to him and taking my larger one into my now free hand.

"Thanks." He said, taking a gentle sip from the steaming liquid. "I screwed up, Elena." He mumbles into his mug, dragging a hand through his hair. I look to my watch and see that it has only been 45 minutes since I've left Willow, it would take another three hours before I'd get to see her.

"You did." I agree, placing the stuff down on the ground and taking a seat next to him on the swing.

"I've relived that fight so many times, it's hard to count."

"Yeah well, imagine how it made me feel." I say, taking a greedy swing from my mug.

"You have to understand that I did not mean any of it." He says, looking to me with his bright blue eyes. Willow got his eyes.

"You said it though. And you've been gone for four years! Four years, Damon!" I say in an astounding tone. "You never held her, or touched her, or held her hand when she was scared. I changed every diaper, kissed every bump, bruise, and scrap, cleaned every runny nose and comforted each tear away. I've never spent more than seven hours away from her in my life. And now she's in surgery to have her appendix removed. She's never had anything worse than a fever and now she's with an intense temperature and is throwing up and can hardly eat or sleep. And I'm scared." I admit, tears falling from my eyes as I hold my head in my hands. His movements were awkward but I didn't refuse his touch when his hand gently ran over my shoulder blades. It was a comforting action from him, and I could sense a feel of vulnerability from myself. I've played the brave card around Willow for years, now I've dropped the act and am breaking apart on the porch swing in front of the father of my child. And a part of me feels as though this is acceptable, that this is what I need.

We sit for nearly half and hour, his hand running over my back as I sobbed and shook my head. It was a mess, but I felt a certain relief when I finally stood up and gathered my things, heading for the SUV and returning to the hospital.

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-Valentina