My dreams are horribly deceptive. I dream of Jeremy breaking down the door and lifting me in his arms, carrying me to safety. I dream of Stefan turning his back on Klaus and helping me escape. I dream of Damon most of all, rescuing me from the hands of Klaus and assuring me that everything will be fine. Damon taking my hand and leading me away from everything that has ever taken something from me.

I dream of running through a field in the sunshine, of never growing tired, of endless joy.

I wake up broken on the inside, bones shattered and my heart falling apart.

I have no clue how long I've been in this place. I've gotten two or three small meals, but my stomach is promising me that the food hasn't been consistent and it's not a reliable way to track the days.

Someone comes in every few hours and hooks up a small machine that draws blood from my veins, storing it in hospital bags, and I don't know why. I know I'm getting weaker, and I don't know if I'll have the will to fight Klaus if and when he comes back. My mind jumps around constantly. One minute, my thoughts are consumed with Jeremy, Bonnie, Caroline, and Alaric. All of the people I love. The people who left me in someone else's care and probably don't even know that I need help. The people I may never see again. The next minute, all I think about is Stefan, but I can't do that for too long because the pain and rage I feel threaten to consume me and set me on fire. I don't think anyone has ever betrayed me more.

In the end, my thoughts always wander back to Damon. His features are so easy to picture, even if my subconscious paints them worried and haunted, frantically searching for something he's lost. The only time I can breathe evenly in this dark, suffocating space is when I'm thinking of him. I think about the days we spent searching for Stefan and the strength we gave each other when hope seemed stupid to hold on to. Those days were the first ones that I started to admit in my heart that I felt more for Damon than I let everyone believe, even myself. I have to shut off my brain when I start thinking about how even though we were moving forward, I hadn't been completely honest with him and how I felt. I hadn't gotten the chance or the courage to tell him how much I felt for him, how he was changing every part of my life, and how I wanted to spend all of my time with him, even when we got back home. I could only hope he would save me so I could have the chance to tell him all the things that I carried with me.

It could be hours, days, or weeks, but eventually Klaus comes back. My previous injuries obviously haven't even begun to heal without any kind of medical care or even vampire blood to help the healing process, and I'm on edge wondering how much more damage he's willing to inflict on me.

I don't have to wonder long because without any warning, he picks me up and slams my body against the closest wall. My head snaps back and collides with the wall, making a sound louder than I thought possible. I see stars, and I'm pretty sure I black out for a few seconds. Before I can fully process what happened, he's screaming in my face.

"WHERE IS HE?!"

I can't gain my bearings, can't even look at him. He drops me to the floor, and my wrist snaps under the weight of my body. This time I can't help from crying out. The pain is too much. I keep my head down, refusing to reveal my tears, and I manage to get out a weak, "I don't know."

"Now see, I have a hard time believing that, sweetheart. You two have been inseparable for weeks, and I can't imagine that he would just leave you behind. So he's either being a coward or he's just biding his time before he comes to rescue you." He pauses, but I refuse to look at him. I'm afraid that I would show hope on my face. "Personally, I don't have a problem with either of those options. If he leaves you here to die, everything I want to accomplish will go much smoother. And if he comes for you, I'll have the pleasure of ripping him limb from limb while you watch." I hear the smile in his voice, and it's all I can do to keep from throwing up. I have to get out of here.

"No matter," he goes on. "I'll get what I want either way. Even if you refuse to be compliant." And with that, his foot connects with my ribs, propelling me across the floor again. The door shuts, and he's gone, and I throw up what little I've eaten and pass out on the floor.

I wake up to a pair of rough hands grabbing my shirt and lifting me up. I've never felt the kind of pain that's happening in my head right now. I'm positive I have a concussion, and I'm losing track of the places in my body that I know bones are broken. I'm thankful that somehow I haven't shed any blood in all of my injuries. The thought of him smelling my blood and wanting to drink from me again makes me sick to my stomach.

"It's been a week, and your young, dumb vampire has still not come to rescue you," he looks smug, like he knew Damon would be too scared to come for me. Tears unwillingly come to my eyes. A whole week? And Damon still hasn't found me or tried to rescue me? I don't understand how he could leave me here.

The monster in front of me runs his thumb along my cheekbone, a sentiment meant to convey love now made revolting. "It's alright, love. Now that I know he won't come for you, I'll be sure you're well taken care of."

I let my eyes meet his and don't even bother to hide the fear in them. I have no doubt that his version of "taken care of" is far different than mine. He smiles, understanding my fear, and jerks my arm around until I'm in front of him, facing away from him. He shoves my back and I almost fall on my face, trying to walk. I head towards the door I can barely see because the night beyond it is so black and bleak. He continues pushing until I lose my footing, unable to break my fall because of my broken wrist and fingers. My face hits gravel and this time I know that there's blood coming from my wounds. Instantly, he's crouching beside me.

"Careful, love. Don't want to spill any of that precious blood of yours." He takes in a deep breath, and I'm positive he's about to drink from me. Instead, his hand clamps around my arm, and he drags me forward. I don't have the strength to fight or to try and get up, and within seconds I hear the pop of my shoulder dislocating. With that, I lose any and all will to hope, and I let him drag me along, tears streaming silently down my face.