Hello my darlings! I'm back again and usual apology for taking ages etc etc. The response after my begging for reviews the last time was absolutely overwhelming, y'all astound me each and every time I upload. So if you wouldn't mind doing that again, I'd be extremely grateful J It's just so lovely when you've spent a long time working hard on something to see people take the time to write comments and just be nice. So thank you to all of my loyal readers and hallo to all of my new ones!

We've also hit over 100 follows – em, hello, what? That's mad and it might not sound like a lot but it's weird to think that each and every one of you are actual people who actually read my story and will be now receiving an email or an notification that I've just uploaded and just bless.

So yes, please enjoy – Delena is featured heavily :D

The fork fell to the plate with a loud clatter, but nobody even looked at it. Both Damon and I were staring at Damon in horror.

"What does a rebellion consist of?" Damon asked suddenly, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

"Burning down buildings, blowing up things, basically forming a mob."

Damon swore, tapping something into his phone. He snapped it shut, when his eyes finally landed on me. I was standing up, staring at the ground in horror. I had caused this; this was all entirely my fault. If I hadn't helped Caroline, we wouldn't be in this mess and everyone in the Pail would be carrying on in their usual, given up on life sort of way. Then something struck me.

"Mom and Jeremy." They would be the closest thing that mob could get to me, so the obvious thing they would do is...oh God, oh God.

"Elena, calm down, they're going to be –"

"You need to get me down there. I need to help." I interrupted him, and he rolled his eyes.

"Princess, if you think I'm going to put you in the middle of an angry mob, you have another thing coming."

Stefan cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Damon, maybe she would be a good –"

Damon spun around to glare at him, his eyes blazing. "She's not going there, do you understand? I've seen how nasty these things can get and I'm not going to put her in danger."

"It's my fault anyway; I don't see why I can't just –"

I stopped when he appeared a few inches away from me again. "You're not going there – it's too dangerous. You're going to stay here and I'm going to make sure your family are ok. Understood?" When I said nothing, only looked at him defiantly he made a little exasperated noise and then his pupils dilated, becoming huge and...hypnotising. I couldn't look away from him and when he started speaking, his voice was relaxing and I found myself wanting to do whatever he said.

"You will stay here and you will not leave the house until I return. Got it princess?"

"I won't leave."I repeated automatically and he smirked and moved away, leaving me blinking in confusion as to what had just happened. But then Stefan confirmed my fears.

"Damon, please tell me you didn't just compel her."

Oh no. He hadn't. He wouldn't dare. But when he simply shrugged, not denying it, I found myself pushing past him into the grand entrance room of the house. But just as I was about to reach out and touch the doorknob, I slammed into what felt like an invisible wall. I tried again, with no luck – I wasn't going anywhere. The thing that was stopping me felt so solid but of course, it was just my mind holding me back. I hated the feeling of complete powerlessness, hated how he couldn't help himself from reminding me how much weaker I was. Fury overwhelmed me and I snapped, lunging at him.

"Who do you think you are, messing with my mind?" I screeched at him; I caught him by surprise and actually managed to make him to stumble back a little bit, until he gathered himself and I suddenly found myself pinned against the wall, his face only a few inches from mine, both of our breathing heavy. I realised that he always made sure not to hurt me when he pulled these little stunts – he was holding me enough so there was no chance of struggling free nor was he holding me too tight. His hands felt nice on my skin actually. Cool, and strong and comforting against my flushed shoulders and...stop it Elena. Focus on the situation.

"Don't test me princess. I'm running low on patience right now, and I don't want to have to take it out on you." He growled in my ear. "I'm going to make sure that your family are safe, I promise but all you need to do is to go upstairs and be a good girl and stay out of trouble." His eyes were dark and piercing and I had to blink quickly to ensure he wasn't compelling me again. When he was convinced I wasn't going to bolt, he pulled away, looping a scarf around his neck and sliding a leather jacket on.

"Eat your quiche and go to my office and read or something, ok?" I nodded sullenly, watching as he opened the front door. He rewarded me with a tense roll of the eyes and just before he disappeared out of the door completely, he gave me one last pointed look. "Try anything funny and I'll have no trouble throwing you into the middle of that mob. Got it princess?" I glared at him in response and turned to go back into the kitchen. He snorted but then the door slammed shut and I was left alone.

It suddenly struck me how weird this whole thing was. Had he just left me on my own in his house? Did he trust me? Granted I couldn't escape or anything like that but hell, he could come back and find the place up in flames. The idea pleased me more than it should, I was slightly ashamed to admit. But before I made any rash decisions, I decided to eat the quiche like he had instructed – after all it had smelled delicious.

When the final crumb of the melt in your mouth pastry was gone and I felt sleepily full, I stood up, washing my plate and leaving it to drain before standing in the centre of the kitchen, looking around and feeling a bit lost. The possibilities for things to do were pretty much endless and I was feeling a little overwhelmed and uncomfortable. Reading, I decided. I couldn't do any harm with reading. Plus, it would let me have a further snoop around the house.

I made my way up the grand stairs, this time taking more notice of each little detail. The house was beautifully decorated – a mixture of modern and classic. Everything, from the huge watercolour paintings that adorned every wall to the freshly cut flowers in every vase was immaculately cared for. My feet sank into the plush carpet as I eventually walked into his swish office and I realised that it was odd for someone to have such a fancy workplace when I hadn't seen him work once – I didn't even know if he had a job I realised and suddenly suspicion flooded through me. I really knew nothing about him – I didn't even know what age he was. In vampire years of course.

I was about to walk to the bookcase and open up that little magical room but I suddenly noticed a few folders on the desk, half open. I battled with myself for a minute before curiosity got the better of me and I tiptoed over to the enormous oak creation and gingerly picked up one of them up. It was stamped with an official Mystic Falls wax seal that was broken, allowing me to flick it open and realise with a start that it was about Dad.

It was a full fact file, the most detailed I had ever seen, with things from his date of birth to...was that his favourite food? What the hell? I scanned through it, unease growing in his stomach. Everything about him was listed, his weight, hair colour, eye colour, everything. There were pages and pages of it, all stuff that I didn't even know others knew. There must have been someone in his closest group of friends betraying him because it certainly wasn't stuff he threw out into the open. There were a few pages on the Liberation Militia too, on what exactly he had done and his exact jail sentence, along with a transcript of the court case. My heart beating, I threw down the file and picked up the next one. It was on Mom, and held exactly the same amount of scary detail as the first. The next one was Jeremy, and I didn't need to look at it to know that it would have everything about him. And then the last one...I knew what to expect before I even opened it but the sick jolt still shook my stomach when I saw that my name brandished at the top of it.

The difference between mine and the rest was mine had very little details. There was only my height, my eye colour, hair colour and my weight. A small blurry picture of me glaring at the camera was attached too, and I realised with a start that it was a picture from my 17th birthday when I needed to get an ID card. There was hand written notes around the edges of the pages, written in beautiful flowing script – Damon's, I was guessing. Things like Cares too much about family and Loyal to old friends, even when they've betrayed her and Seems like she hasn't eaten proper food in months, so giving her three meals a day and finally, On our side.

The last one sent a jolt down my spine. I wasn't nor would I ever be on their side. I was the daughter of the rebel leader for crying out loud! I threw down the file, pacing back and forth as I dragged my hands through my hair. What the hell was going on? Why did Damon have a crazy amount of information on us? And why was he acting like I was an experiment or something? I suddenly found myself getting angry. How dare he have this stuff without our permission? I looked around wildly and my eyes locked on what I was looking for – the fireplace. This would be too easy.

I put the last piece of coal on top of the little pile I had made carefully, before wiping down my hands and looking for matches, which turned out to be on top of the cool marble. I lit it easily and quickly tossed it in. There was a whoosh as the merry fire spread over the coal, giving out a gorgeous warm glow. And I hesitated only for a moment before tossing Mom's folder in. The paper folder was immediately swallowed up by the flames, followed by Jeremy's.

I had Dad's folder in my hand, ready to go into the blaze when I suddenly heard the door open behind me. I spun around to see Damon staring at me and I very nearly felt guilty about what I had just done before I remembered that I was completely justified in my burnings.

"What the hell are you doing?" He asked, sounding more in disbelief than anything else.

"Why do you have all of this crap on my family?" I snapped, waving the folder in the air at him. His expression grew serious when he realised what I was holding and he took a step towards me.

"Princess, just give it to me." He growled, his voice a dangerous purr.

"No!" I hissed, furious now. "Why do you have this stuff Damon? It's not your right to know any of it unless we tell you –"

"Elena, I swear to God, give me the folder right now before I have to take it from you."

I froze at how threatening his voice was. He was angry now, in a way I hadn't seen him before. His eyes were feral, his voice a bark. I didn't hand him the folder but I didn't exactly keep it away from him either. I just kept talking, keeping my eyes locked on him.

"Why do you have a folder on me?" I asked, my voice shaky and his expression softened just a little bit.

"Princess, give me the folder."

I shook my head. "I'm not on your side!" I added suddenly, remembering the absurd suggestion written in his stupid perfect writing.

He rolled his eyes at that. "Darling, we'll discuss that another time because I think you'll need to have alcohol in your system before you admit the truth but I don't have time for this right now. We have to go."

I raised an eyebrow at him. I wasn't going anywhere with him, not until he explained himself.

"The leader of the rebellion was that Saltzman idiot. He insisted that the only way to call the whole thing off was to bring you to talk to your father. So that's where we're going."

Oh. Well that changed everything.

I unwillingly let the folder drop to the floor, so I wasn't handing it to him exactly but I wasn't tossing it into the fire either. It was the best he was going to get. He rolled his eyes and stood back, gesturing for me to leave the room. I reluctantly did and he followed me, making sure that I heard him locking the door and his mutterings about privacy these days.

"I don't understand why Alaric wants me to talk to Dad." I muttered, more to myself than anything as we made our descent down the stairs. "Hell, I'm not much use to them when I'm stuck here, am I?"

Damon chuckled grimly. "Well, that's what we're hoping to find out."

When we reached the front door, I flinched, fully expecting to slam into that invisible wall again. But Damon chuckled and I glared at him before marching determinedly through where it once been, and out into the cold air. "If you ever try that compulsion on me again without my permission, I'll find a way to kill you." I muttered and he laughed, making his way down the stone steps. I however, stopped again, this time not because of Damon Salvatore's stunning beauty or his piercing eyes. (This seemed to be the usual cause of it these days.) No, this time I was staring at his creation in front of us.

"What is that?" I asked, a little horrified as I stared at the giant blue...thing.

"It's my car." He said, sounding a little wounded.

"That is not a car. That is a pile of rusty blue metal."

He snorted as he opened the passenger door for me. "Well, it's the only ride you're getting. So either you get in or you walk."

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the shivers that tingled down my spine as I brushed past him to slide in. "Even by the Pail's standards, this is appalling." I told him and he laughed, his minty breath cool on my cheeks.
"I'll take the roof down sometime and show you how much fun it is then." He teased and I snorted as I flopped into the soft leather seats. The inside of the car smelt like mints and his cologne – not a bad combination. I allowed myself to inhale deeply once before the other car door opened and he slid in elegantly, turning the key in the ignition in one fluid motion. The car roared to life and I could see him smirking smugly out of the corner of my eye and I had to smile too. Damon Salvatore did that to me. Five minutes ago, I had been positive that I would never speak to him again I had been so angry. But now…heck, we were laughing like we were old friends.

He pulled out of the drive smoothly, and I watched the Shire go by as we sped through the town. We sat in silence for a few minutes until he eventually spoke.

"I got Caroline to grab you some warmer clothes by the way. That dress is pretty but it won't help you much during the winter. They're in the back seat."

"I don't take charity Damon –"

He cut me off by sighing tiredly. "Well you will this one time. Go on, put on a jumper or something." I glared at him but unwillingly turned to look at the back seat to see bags and bags filled with colourful tissue paper. This was ridiculous. I was all ready to turn around to refuse them completely when I caught sight of a thick black cardigan peeking out of the top of one of them. It looked so cosy and without really thinking, I reached out to let my fingers run along the soft fabric. Damon caught my eye in the windscreen mirror.

"Put it on." He murmured as he turned a corner.

It was in my hands before I could stop myself and I pulled it on slowly. Immediately I felt ten times better – I only realised then exactly how cold it had been. But now I was wrapped in this delicious toasty material and the thought of taking it off made me feel cold again.

"Thank you." I said quietly and he grinned.

"No problem. It looks good on you. You should wear black more often."

Butterflies. Butterflies were fluttering all around my stomach and my stupid heart. I tried to laugh nonchalantly, hugging the thick wool tighter around me.

"You don't really get a choice of colours in the Pail. You take what you can get." I tried to say this without embarrassment but I couldn't. What on earth would he think of me, when he could afford to buy the world and his mother in whatever colour he liked and I was stuck with tatters? He didn't look disgusted though – just thoughtful.

"Well, what's your favourite colour?" He asked, his voice velvety. I was about to snort, tell him that I had far more important things to be worrying about that choosing which colour I preferred. That when you were struggling for money to survive, deciding between green or orange wasn't high on your list of priorities.

"Blue."

It slipped out before I could stop myself, probably because his intense blue eyes were burning into me. I was an idiot. I was the biggest idiot – blue? Try and make it more obvious Elena, Jesus. Why couldn't I have just said pink or purple like a normal girl? Blue? I hadn't even liked the colour blue until I met him and discovered what an extraordinary colour it could be. I was a pathetic human being, I really was. And he knew what I had meant, I could tell by the tiny smirk on the corners of his lips.

"I'll make sure to add that to your file." He said seriously and I had to stare at him for a few moments before I realised that he was joking. We both burst out laughing at the same time – why, I'm not really sure.

"You still need to explain that folder thing to me Mr. Salvatore." I reminded him sternly and for some reason his brow furrowed and he seemed to grow…tired?

"I've a feeling your father is going to explain that to you anyway." He sighed as we pulled to a smooth stop outside a huge, important looking building. My stomach twisted into knots as I realised that my dad was in there, right now. And I was expected to go and talk to him. I hadn't seen him in a few month and now I was expected to go in and act like we were the best of friends?

"You ok?" Damon asked, interrupting my thoughts. I shot him a weary smile.

"I get to go in and talk to my father who effectively handed me over to a vampire, so yes, I'm majestic."

Damon laughed and slid out of the car. I was left on my own for a moment until he reappeared, opening my door for me.

"You're a fighter Ms. Gilbert. You'll get through it." He told me, sounding amused. I made a face at him as I got out of the car, before turning to look apprehensively at the looming building in front of me. I allowed myself five seconds to try to think of escape routes before sighing in resignation.

"Come on then." I muttered, beginning to walk. "The sooner we go in, the sooner we come out."

Annnnnnnd scene! Please review and follow and favourite and all of that. I've really turned into one of *those* writers I know but every time one of you does something I get an email and that email sound on my iPhone makes me more excited than anything else these days. Love you all!

Bye my darlings,

x