Within a few hours, we're back at our hotel gathering our things. Whatever facade of peace Damon wore earlier, it's long gone now. He's moving around the room at lightning speed, packing up our things. I think at some point he makes a phone call, but honestly, it's all too fast for my brain to register.

When he stops for a second, I reach out and grab his arm before he can take off again. "Damon," I start. "Where are we going? I can't go back to Mystic Falls right-"

He's gone again, whirling around the room, apparently not wanting to have this conversation. When stops moving again, he's directly in front of me, hands cupping my face, eyes locked on mine. "Don't move. I'll be back in five minutes. Don't leave. Don't peek out the door. Just stay here, ok?"

I nod, and he's gone.

I sit on the bed and almost immediately get up and cross the room. His nervous energy has transferred to me, and I feel like I can't be still until he comes back. The last thing I want right now is to go back home. There's still too much pain there, and I'm not ready to face it all. I want to keep moving on with Damon and see more of the country, but I also don't want us to have to watch our backs at every turn.

I'm letting all of this bounce around my head and without warning, the window to my left explodes, glass flying everywhere. Before I can think about running, a pair of arms are wrapped around me tightly, pulling me away from the room and into the night. I can't breathe. I can't think. I can't do anything but scream the only thing that comes to mind, the only thing that can save me, "DAMON!"

And I hope to God that he was right about hearing me in distress.

I wake up with my head pounding, no idea where I am or how long I've been out. It takes me a second to remember what happened, but as soon as I do, I'm terrified. I feel like I'm in a vacuum. It's pitch black, and I can't see or smell or hear anything. It's unnerving, and I'm afraid to make any noise, unsure if I'm alone or not. I didn't even get the chance to see who took me.

I hope with all of my heart that Damon heard my scream for him. I have no idea how far away he was from me at the time or even how far vampire hearing can reach. I can only hope that he has some way of finding me.

Without warning, light bursts bright in my eyes, blinding me. I shield my face with my arm and scramble backwards on the concrete until I hit a wall with my back. It takes everything in me not to scream out when his voice hits my ears. The voice that I've learned to fear over the last year, the voice that belongs to the worst monster I've ever laid eyes on.

"Well, well. What an interesting situation, isn't it, love?" I can hear the mean smirk in Klaus' voice, and unfortunately I can picture his expression in my head down to the way his eyes light up in response to things most people would cringe at. "Did you really think I wouldn't find out where you were?" I can hear his feet on the ground, moving closer to me. I imagine he looks exactly like a lion stalking its prey. I hate it.

"Oh come on now, don't be rude. Let's have a conversation, shall we?" He keeps moving forward, and it's all I can think about. "Now, I know you're not all the way out here by yourself. Tell me, who is traveling with you. Is it the witch? The pathetic teacher? Or is it someone more important to you...someone you love, perhaps?"

It takes everything in me not to respond, not to spit words of venom at him. I hate him, and my entire being screams with resistance to this moment, begging me to get up and run. I keep my hand over my eyes, not looking at him, not granting him an answer, hardly daring to breathe.

"Let me ask this a different way," his voice drops and loses any trace of play. He will not be put off any longer, "and I'm only going to ask once before there are consequences. Please keep that in mind, love." Under my hand, I can see his feet now directly in front of me, and before I can think of what I'm going to say to him, his hand is in my hair, gripping the back of my head, ready to inflict pain. Apparently he knows I'm not going down without a fight. He asks anyway, "Where is Damon?"

I don't answer, not even with the "go to hell" that I'd like to say to him. He rips my hand from my face and slams it into the wall behind me, quicker than I can comprehend. What I can comprehend is the intense pain and the sound of popping as several of my fingers fracture under the weight of his inhuman strength. I squeeze my eyes shut and bite my lip to keep from crying out, though I can't help but squirm and writhe in pain as he holds my hand to the wall. I hold my breath until I'm sure I won't scream, and after a long minute that I'm surprised he's granted me, I finally look at him.

His face is level with mine, his breath on my face as he whispers, "I can be extremely patient when I want to be, Elena. And do you know what? I don't really want to be right now." He smirks, clearly pleased with his decision, before his face hardens and his eyes bore into mine, "Where. Is. Damon?"

Somehow I feel braver now. He just broke bones in my body, and I'm still alive, still fighting. Pushing away the thought that he could tear me apart for my audacity, I look him straight in the eyes, "Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you. So you can go ahead and kill me."

His eyes flash with something like appreciation. I'm not surprised he likes a fighter. The look is quickly replaced with rage, and before I know it, I'm flying across the concrete stopped only by the cold, hard wall. More popping, more bones broken, and this time I can't help but whimper at the pain, not wanting to give him any more than that. I push myself back up into a sitting position and resist the temptation to feel around my torso for broken ribs.

All of a sudden, I'm on my feet, on the very tips of my toes, and the pressure on my windpipe is enough to make me gag. He's got me by the throat, pushed against the wall, bricks digging into my back. "Let me be very clear," he growls. "You are going to wish that I had killed you. But you are going to be very useful to me alive. Damon, on the other hand…" His eyes narrow, "He will die. And if I have anything to say about it, you'll be watching when it happens." He pauses, watching as I struggle against his grip, "Sweet dreams, love. I suggest that the next time I visit, you adjust your attitude a bit," and with that, he releases me. I fall to the ground, coughing, both hands planted on the ground, trying to get a decent breath in. Before I can even look up at him, the door shuts again and everything is pitch black. All I want to do is collapse on the floor, but I know that whatever is broken in my body is going to hurt bad enough as it is. I gently lower myself to the cold ground, pressing my cheek to the concrete, letting the terror finally wash over me, falling into a broken, unsatisfying sleep.