This story has been moved to a 'M' rating for a reason. Semi-graphic rape/brutality. Please do not read if this will be upsetting to you.

NO MINORS!

As always, I welcome feedback at how I can improve my story.

After a few short minutes, minutes that passed all too quickly for Damon, Elena pulled away from him, her face hooded and reserved as she gazed at him with remote eyes. Damon stifled a sigh, he knew he had lost the moment; he longed to rewind and freeze time, to once again hold her warmth in his arms, to be certain of her, to feel her close to him and know that beyond any doubting she was safe. When she pulled away from him it felt as if there were a chasm left in her wake, as if in that brief stolen moment of almost intimacy, that she had carved out a niche in his icy chest.

She looked at him, cool and reserved, embarrassed at her weakness, angry that she had sought reassurance from someone who regarded himself in the light of a rival for her affections. She tightened her lips, it was not fair of him to use her vulnerability to try and get close to her. But yet, looking at him as he rose to his feet she could not see any of the triumph that she would have expected from a competing suitor. There was nothing other than concern and worry in his blue eyes. She sighed, she was probably being unjust, she, of all people knew that he was capable of unexpected moments of dis interested self sacrifices .

She studied her bare feet, her toe nails were chipped and in dire need of a touch up.

She looked up again, tentatively, uncertain of what to say, words seemed to become tangled up with meaning, becoming only meaningless gibberish.

Did she thank him? Did she tell him to get lost for maybe, sort of ,making a move on her? Did she ask about Stefan and thus subtly remind him of her choice in brothers?

Her head hurt.

Damon looked at her for a moment, his lips slightly parted as if he were about to speak. Then as she stood in silence, her mind racing, the mask of cold indifference that she had seen so many times slid over his face. She winced.

"You ok now?" There was nothing in the words. They were flat, toneless. They seemed to fall like lead to the void between them.

She nodded curtly.

Then she turned away from him, avoiding the blue of his eyes, the questions that were flooding her with tumult.

She walked into her bathroom and turned on the tap, listening to the gurgle of the water as it flowed in to the cup. She reached up and got some aspirin for her head ache. When she got back to her room Damon was gone.

She sat on the edge of her bed, gripping her head, feeling as if her sanity was hanging by a thread. Something was wrong, something was very wrong. The deep utter horror of her dream still lingered, and it frustrated her that she could not adequately express her dream. It sounded so, innocuous, being unable to flee a threat, bugs crawling, dark, all very standard stuff, what was it that 'Puck ' had sain in 'A Midsummer's Night Dream'? "We are the stuff dreams are made of" Or maybe it was someone else in another thing?

But why was it so important to her, why was the impression of horror so lasting and strong?

She got to her feet and paced the confines of her room in frustration, as her anxiety increased so did the tempo of her steps, till a knock on her door made her pause.

"Who is it?" Her tone was less than welcoming.

"It's me." She opened the door and looked at her brother.

"What is it?"

"I was wondering if you could, you know, stop pacing, it's hard to sleep with you marching up and down." Jeremy looked at her apologetically, as he shoved a cup of Earl Grey tea into her hand.

"Um, yeah, made this for you, maybe it'll help you sleep, you know, since its tea and all."

She took it with a slight smile. It was clear that he was unaware of the difference of herbal tea and all other kinds. This being a black tea which was most certainly not decaffeinated. It was also equally clear that he was trying to apologize for his actions in the tomb.

"Thank you Jeremy, I will try it. Sorry about keeping you up." She took it with a half-smile, relenting towards him slightly.

"Yeah, no problem." He turned and shuffled back to his room, his feet scuffing loudly on the wood floor as he walked, a sure sign of a guilty conscience in him. Good, at least he seemed to realize the enormity of what he had done. She took a sip of the tea; it was very bitter, she made a face and pulled out the tea bag, dropping it to the trash can. Somehow, despite the bitterness, the tea was very soothing to her so she drained the cup as she sat on the edge of her bed. Then, suddenly she was seized by a sense of restlessness, she wondered if Jenna was home yet, if Damon was still in the house.

She pulled on a robe and slipped down the dark staircase. It was dark, she was not aware of how late it had gotten. She walked past the dark living room; she peeked out the front door and saw Jenna's car was in the drive, so she was probably back from her dinner.

She walked into the kitchen and pulled open the freezer looking at the carton of frozen ice-cream. It did not seem appealing at all. She closed it.

Then suddenly she felt dizzy, her stomach was heavy, nauseated. Exhaustion washed over her like a wave and she staggered. She thought she heard a sound, whipping around she yanked the fridge door open and looked around the room. It was empty the light streaming from the fridge in a ribbon, highlighting the cool air as it frostily moved. The exhaustion was imperative, she had to go up to her room now, or risk sleeping in a heap on the kitchen floor.

Her thought were growing fuzzier and more fragmented as she climbed the steps to her room.

She stumbled and staggered as she made it to the top of the landing; she walked into her room and fell on the bed without shutting the door or removing her robe. This was not normal fatigue, what had caused this? Her last thoughts were of outraged realization. Why had Jeremy drugged her? When she saw his sorry pasty face when she woke up she would really give it to him… She would tell, Bonnie or Caroline, both of them would gladly scare the pants off of him for doing this to her… She slept.

Down below Damon stood unnaturally still, he had used Jeremy as an unwitting accomplice, Damon had crushed a sleeping pill into the tea when Jeremy had his back turned.

He had a plan to put into motion tonight that required Elena to be asleep, and the vervain necklace she was wearing was an impediment in his plan. He had almost been caught be Elena when she came to the kitchen, but his speed aided him in avoiding detection. He had almost been forced to carry her to her room when the sedative started to work in the kitchen, but she had made it up to her room just in time. Now to implement his plan.

He made his way up the stairs and into her room, softly shutting the door after himself. He could not risk anyone coming in and interrupting him. He reached back and locked the door with a soft click.

He approached the bed quietly and slipped on some gloves then removed her necklace, placing it on the bedside table carefully.

He knew what he was about to do was beyond human ethics and morals, he also did not care, because, he was, well, not human. Stefan would never have attempted to do what he was about to do. Too righteous, too moral, too, well, Stefan. And that weakness was why he was trapped in the tomb with Katherine.

Bonnie was in her bed slipping fitfully, she was tossing and turning, her subconscious mind in turmoil as she struggled to try and find some way to unearth the truth about Elena, and the time she was missing.

It was a tormenting thing to not be able to use her powers to help her best friend. What was the point of her having all this power if she could not apply it effectively to help? She desperately wished that her Grams was here, she was sure that she would have some way of getting to the bottom of things. She missed her, she missed her so much!

Then, suddenly a dream coalesced out of the turmoil of mental chatter.

Bonnie looked around to see herself in a small room with plain, non-descript walls, then suddenly her Grams was standing in front of her. Bonnie gave a squeal of joy and hugged her.

"Oh, Grams, I have missed you so much!'

She was in her arms feeling the powerful woman's hug.

"I know, baby, I know."

She started to ask about where she had been, what she had been doing, but her grandmother placed her finger tip on Bonnie's lips.

"Hush now, you have to listen me." Bonnie nodded.

"You may not think you are ready for this, but you must be. You are strong, much stronger than you imagine."

Then, Grams was gone, Bonnie looked around temped to call for her grandmother, but then remembered the need for silence. She frowned, and then froze. She could hear cries and she instantly knew they were Elena's. She started running to the sound, and soon was able to see her from a distance, but once she got to a certain point she could not get closer.

She focused on Elena, then gasped in horror, she was suspended from a tree branch, swinging like a swing in the summer wind, she was sobbing and crying, blood covering her, it was clear that she was badly injured and going into shock.

Then a shadowy figure approached Elena, Elena started to struggle weakly, but was unable to evade the approaching man.

Bonnie stifled a scream with her hand as the man began to strip the clothes from her friends broken body. Then Elena became very still, Bonnie tried to move, tried to run to help her friend but could not move. Then the man moved closer to Elena, his intent clear. Bonnie gasped and covered her eyes from the scene that followed. But she was aware of the sounds of sobbing. Then she realized they sounds were coming from her.

Bonnie woke with a whimper, running her hand through her hair. It was just a dream, just a dream. She repeated to herself.

She took deep breaths to calm her racing heart and reached for her phone, she had to call Elena and make certain she was alright. She pressed the keys with shaking fingers but only got voicemail. Of course she would, it was the middle of the night after all.

She had to get a grip on herself, it was just a dream. Sure it had felt more real than any other that she had ever had, but it was still a dream, or was it?

This was more like a trance, like the ones that she had when Emily was contacting her.

The more Bonnie thought about the more she was convinced that this was not a mere dream.

She rushed to her grimmoire and started to read the passages, looking for some way to reenter the vision and get a clearer look at the attacker, some way to identify Elena's rapist.

Despite her fevered efforts she was not able to find anything that would help. She tried casting a spell to contact her Grams, but all she got for her efforts was a nose bleed.

By the time the sun began to rise over the horizon she knew she had to stop and prepare to go to school. She sighed and put her book away, and prepared to get ready, but a reoccurrence of her nose bleed at the table combined with her exhausted looks caused her father to call in to the school for the day.

She went back up to her room and lay on her bed, the horrific images from her dream played over in her mind keeping any rest that she might have away.

Damon took a deep breath as he stood over Elena as she lay in bed. Then, swiftly, surely, with no trace of faltering or hesitation he lightly placed his hands on either side of Elena's temples. Then, he furrowed his brow in concentration. What he was doing was not common; if a vampire wanted to read someone's mind they just usually did it from a distance. Of course such a thing was totally dependent on the vampire's power and experience. Stefan for instance could never do this. Of course, many vampires even older than him could not do this. This was a combination of pure skill and the ability to harness the enormous energy from the ley lines in Mystic Falls. But this was the only way that Damon could think of to unearth the truth behind her disappearance. He was about to penetrate Elena's mind and explore the inner recesses, to push past the walls thrown up to block her recall of the past events.

Was it an invasion? Yes. Did he care? No. After all, she would never know about it, so no harm done.

He applied a slight amount of pressure; this was harder than he thought it would be, Elena's mind was stronger and more resistant than he had thought it would be.

He concentrated harder and in his attempt to unlock her mind. She stirred uneasily under his hands; this was beginning to be uncomfortable for her, drugged as she was.

He backed off slightly, huffing in frustration, then his lips tightened and he resumed his efforts, this time not stopping as she tossed her head from side to side. This was not actually painful, more uncomfortable, like the beginning of a migraine, the pressure without the actual pain.

Then, there! He had done it; he was past the block put up by the erasing of her memory. His suspicion had been correct; it had been a vampire that had wiped her mind.

He closed his eyes and traveled down the pathways of her mind.

There was Stefan, Stefan sitting on a park bench smiling at Damon/ Elena. Stefan was walking, smiling down at him/her reassuringly.

Damon was getting nauseous.

Bonnie laughing, they were eating ice-cream. They were dancing in the sprinklers at age seven.

Caroline was crying, yelling at Elena for stealing her monkey, the child Elena desperately protested her innocence, but Caroline would not hear it.

"Come on!" Damon exclaimed to himself, "Get on with it, what happened?"

Elena jerked in response, she had 'heard' him.

He shook his head in irritation, this connection was as delicate and tenuous as a thread of silk, he could easily overload her and cause her to wake, or she could panic and he would be bombarded with millions of thoughts, feelings, and have to retreat from the link himself.

He delicately attempted to guide her again down the path of her memory.

Ah, there it was!

She was struggling to breathe. She was frightened.

Damon let a groan of impatience escape. He had to go back farther. The images came choppily, like an old reel of film, some things were complete blanks, others revealed in startling detail.

Dark, it was so dark. It smelled like diesel and rubber, but that was it. He had forgotten how primitive a human's olfactory organ was. She was locked in a trunk, she was trying to claw her way out, to try and find the release. It had been filed off.

She was beginning to feel claustrophobic, her chest tightened up in response to her fear. There was a Donald Duck?

Damon could feel his anger rising. When he found out who did this, he would kill them, slowly.

Elena was being pulled out of the trunk, her feet dragging the gravel tearing the soles of her feet. Then there was the painful straining as a chain was wrapped around her wrists and it was flung over an overhead branch and cranked tight. She swung helplessly, questioning her attacker. He strained to see the face of her attacker, but it was too dark, she had not seen him clearly at this time. She was asking questions, her voice was blurry, indistinct. There was a reply, but it was even more garbled than Elena's.

This was frustrating; all he was able to determine at this time was that Elena had been kidnapped by a vampire. He already knew that, damn it!

He gave an involuntary jerk as the blows started, Elena was in agony, and he grimaced.

Then there was a blank spot in her memory. God, when he found out who had done this he would rip them apart! She had fainted.

He had to keep going; he HAD to find out who had done this.

Then came a sound, a zipper being lowered. He felt her blinding fear, she started shaking, and then, slowly, she began to recede somehow. Things became muted. Then all emotion stopped. For a moment Damon took a breath of relief. Vampire that he was, he was living the moment as Elena, feeling everything she was. In this moment he was just as afraid, just as powerless and terrified as she had been. The emotion was harder for him to endure than the virtual agony of the brutal blows.

He was jerked back into her past, her clothes were being ripped off of her. It hurt.

He marveled at this, all the times he had ripped the clothes off of girls he had not one considered that it might be less than comfortable. But then all of his encounters had been willing, very willing, in fact.

Then icy hands were groping her breast. He was filled with outrage, but still there was not the slightest flicker of feeling from Elena.

It was all he could do to stay in the link, then there it was the face. Damon concentrated on it, committing it to memory.

Suddenly, unexpectedly. The vampire thrust himself into her with a brutal thrust.

Damon recoiled, his fangs extending in his rage. He had seen enough, he had the face of the person who had done this. He should leave. But he could not. He had gotten in too deep to sever the link quickly.

The vampire continued to trust in and out of her, tears were streaming down her face, but she made not a sound, her eyes empty.

The pain and burning increased as the tempo quickened. He tried to kiss her. She did not resist, but soon the vampire focused on her neck, savaging the skin like a dog.

She grew weaker, yet the rape never stopped.

Then, a flicker of emotion. Elena was screaming inside her head. She felt completely powerless, she was terrified, she was calling with every fiber for Stefan to come save her. Begging for the humiliation to stop.

She fainted.

She was hearing an argument. A feeling of rage grew as she realized that the humiliation she had suffered was a mistake.

She was just a pawn, yet again her life was a piece on a board to be disposed of as she wished.

Then. A deep corrosive despair flooded over him. This was it; he had to break the link NOW.

He jerked away, landing a few feet from the side of the bed. With wonder he realized his face was wet.

He was sobbing.

Rape Chapter 7

By Ivycat