Hey, guys! I haven't updated this story in three years because I felt it was going in circles, but it's always been so close to my heart I thought I'd give it another shot. So... here's the product of that. I hope you like it.

WARNINGS: Under-age relationships, mention of child abuse, self harm and rape, swearing

Elena could only think about Aaron, and how she hadn't e-mailed him in days, but what could she have told him? That Mason got out? That she wanted to cut but wouldn't, even as her skin begged? That she stopped because of Damon who was willing to protect her? Fight for her? Go down for her? No, she couldn't have told Aaron any of this. So all she could do now was feel the guilt sucking her hollow.

Caroline came over that morning. The sight of her all happy and shiny in a blue shirt dress, curls perfectly set, made Elena skulk back under her duvet.

"Stay there," Caroline laughed. "I'll work around you."

That made her smile. "Make up can't save me now."

"You better not be doubting my mad skills. You're not bailing on Damon, are you?"

Elena squeezed her eyes shut in frustration. She had completely forgotten about the opening. She could picture Damon hopelessly scuttling around the Bistro unable to concentrate on getting anything done.

"Mr Saltzman won't tell me what's wrong," Caroline got in bed beside her. "Is it because of me? Did Damon give you a hard ti-"

"No." Elena cut her off before she could guilt herself into believing that it was her fault. She decided it was time she started taking responsibility for her own fuck-ups.

"Elena," Caroline's eyes zeroed in on her cheek. "What happened to your face?"

Elena touched her cheek absently, careful not to tip her off like she did Damon. "Oh, I slipped in the shower."

Caroline watched her waiting for further explanation, but seeing as it never came, she demanded, "Why didn't you return my calls?"

"I'm on time out," Elena shrugged. "We're on vacation. I'm allowed."

"Not when you're in town, you're not," She stated. "And certainly not on New Year's eve."

"Don't you have a family to boss around?" Elena groaned.

"Lucky for you, I'm all yours," Caroline beamed beatifically as she made her way over to Elena's closet. "My dad is spending this year in Memphis with his boyfriend, and mom is going to be held up at the precinct until very late. I overheard her discussing a case with a bunch of lab techs earlier."

"Case?" Elena stiffened. It had been two days since the news had arrived and Alaric hadn't succeeded in persuading the cops into letting them give Aaron a funeral yet, leave alone see him. "What case?"

"Something about kids cliff diving by the creek," She dug through Elena's closet messily. "You need new clothes. You can borrow mine tonight."

"None of your stuff fits me."

"So we'll improvise," She stood with her hands on her hips. "I'm not leaving out that door without you."

Elena eventually conceded, moderately grateful even for the much needed intervention. She woozily followed Caroline's lead, focussing all of her senses on sublimating and the result was slightly more rewarding than pictured- her bruise was artfully concealed under layers of makeup and her hair was restored to a state of aesthetically transient fallacy. In other words, she felt like herself again.

Elena's steps faltered when she saw Detective Parker leaning against the entrance to the bistro. She approached him, forcing herself to look nonchalant when she felt anything but.

"Elena," He greeted her. "Fancy running into you here. I assumed you'd be too stricken with grief to leave your room."

"It's good to see you, Detective," She evaded his tactless remark.

"No, it's not," His mouth twisted wryly. "At least you don't think so. And you sure won't when we're done talking."

She frowned, confused by that tangle of words. "I can't speak to you without my attorney present."

"I'm off-duty," He spread his arms wide as if to prove that he wasn't carrying anything. "Besides, you don't have to say anything. I'll do all the talking."

"I'm sorry, I have to go," She skirted around him.

"You wouldn't be in such a hurry if you heard what I have to say."

"I have someplace to be."

"Well, suit yourself." His voice fell, the subsequent words almost a murmur. "Give your boyfriend my best."

Elena stopped in her tracks. He was baiting her and it was working. "What do you want?" She turned around to face him.

"Five minutes," He gestured toward a black sedan. "Just hear me out."

Point. Set. Match.

She had damn good reason to be wary and she knew it, and yet she found herself reluctantly sliding into the passenger-side seat of his car.

Once they were settled, she folded her arms against her chest and stared past the windshield. It was starting to snow, and the fairy lights she had hung a couple days ago gave the Bistro a radiant, almost bejewelled look.

"I told myself that on the off chance I happened to run into you, I'd talk to you. I figured your guardian would keep you in lock down after last time and that my chances were nil, but lo and behold, here you are. It must be a sign."

"You don't strike me as someone who'd believe in signs." Elena wasn't going to buy a word that came out of his mouth.

"You've got me there, but I'll make an exception in your case," His lips pursed for a moment as if he was thinking hard about something. Then, he looked at her. "I think your boyfriend killed Aaron Whitmore."

She froze, her breath catching audibly.

"I wish I had enough evidence to prove it," He went on grimly. "He's smart, but I'll get him. The whole thing was skilfully premeditated, but he couldn't have been that thorough."

Elena couldn't decide if she should stay or leave─ what the ramifications were of either decision and in that moment of indecisiveness, he kept talking.

"I believe it must've started after you told him about Whitmore. When we searched the hotel room where his body was discovered, we found photos. Photos of you."

"Why was he in town?" She grabbed fistfuls of her dress as Detective Parker continued to look at her with his cop's eyes, gaze sharp and flat.

"He was stalking you. The blackmail texts and mails were just an escalation of that. I think he was threatened by your new relationship and hoped your boyfriend would step away if he found out about your past."

"No, Aaron was not watching me. Those texts were from Mason." Just the sound of his name sent a wild shiver through her. "You have no business suspecting anyone else with a convict out on the loose!"

"But I think your boyfriend perceived Whitmore as a threat as well. And you know what? He was right. The evidence we collected from the hotel room, usually when we find that sort of thing, it's too late─ photos, notes of your daily schedule, voice recordings, even some of your garbage, but that wasn't just it, was it?"

Elena pressed her hands to her mouth in case she became as sick as she felt. Where was he going with this?

"So here's how I think it went down," He tapped his fingertips together, his attention strenuously trained on her. "You and Salvatore took a break and he started seeing an old flame. That served two purposes─ it made Whitmore relax and it eliminated Salvatore's motive.

"Why would he kill someone over a woman he'd dumped? He set that up pretty well, but he didn't tell you and you strengthened the lie with your candid reactions. However, Whitmore was holding one more card against him. If word got out about his relationship with you, he could end up serving time and he couldn't have that now, could he?"

Elena had a sense of disappearing down an endless tunnel, her reality shrinking to a tiny black dot.

"Get this, that hotel is owned by a subsidiary of your boyfriend's father and the surveillance cameras just happened to be down for an upgrade."

"Coincidence," She said hoarsely even as she didn't believe it.

"Sure, why not?" He shrugged, but his eyes gave him away. He knew. He really believed that Damon had done it.

She looked up at him and blinked to clear the haze of unshed tears from her eyes. "Why are you telling me this?"

"So you'll know who you're dealing with. I'm on your side, Elena, and I understand that Salvatore isn't a threat to the public, but I hope you understand that it's never okay to take the law into your own hands and soon, he will too."

She didn't remember getting out of Parker's car or moving a muscle in the process. She didn't remember seeing Caroline or Ric in the front, or anyone else for that matter. When she found herself on the second floor, she had to stop for a moment, unsure of how she had gotten that far.

There were dry dishes on the drain board: two bowls, two spoons, two mugs, a saucepan. Damon and Katherine? Damon and Aaron? Damon and...? The bed was made, but sloppily.

The desk drawer was locked. Elena debated a half second and then slipped her nail filer out of her clutch where she always kept it. She wedged the tip into the lock and jiggled it around not really expecting much, and nothing much happened. She slid the filer into the narrow crack between the drawer and the desk. The drawer popped open with a little snick and the desk did a little jump and Damon's computer monitor blinked to life.

Elena scanned the folders on his desktop. There were recipes, pretty mundane stuff. Then she saw a folder tucked in the lower corner labelled only with an initial: E.

No. She stared at the folder for a long time. No, don't do it, walk away, just walk─

She double-clicked on the icon and the folder opened.

There were Word documents for the most part, but also several jpegs and one PDF─ Discharge Summary: Elena Marie Stevens.

She had to sit down to take this in. It was her diagnosis from when she had started cutting. The therapist had kept it factual and extremely dry─ major depression, severe, with psychotic features, in remission; PTSD, and a bunch of other diagnoses, none of them flattering she was sure. It detailed her history leading up to her admission, then her course of treatment and her discharge recommendations.

That wasn't it.

The other documents were articles from newspapers. Using the details so helpfully included on her discharge summary, Damon had worked backward. Mason had made the local papers for a month or so, and all that had eventually led Damon to Aaron because there was a file on him too. Her whole life was on Damon's computer, like once he got to know her, he wanted to know everything. Interest becomes obsession becomes─

"I can explain."

Elena whirled. Damon was in the doorway, eyes fixed on his desk as if he couldn't bear to look at her. She felt empty and sick, like someone had scooped out her guts with a baller.

"Elena─"

"How could you?" She felt weak for asking. She hated how she sounded, pleading and small.

If Parker was right... how could that be? Damon had turned her life around. He had saved her. Protected her. Would a predator to that? No, no.

"I know how this looks, but you have to trust me," His Adam's apple bobbed in a hard swallow and his eyes slowly met hers.

"These downloads are dated a full month before I told you about Mason," Elena's voice cracked even as she spoke. "Why did you do that? Why lie?"

"I- I wanted to find a way to reach you... get closer. I knew you were lost, lonely. Ric didn't know what to do, and I thought I could help. I swear to God, when it started, I was just trying to find some common ground."

Was he lying? Because it was so perfect, just exactly what she wanted to hear, and that was why she wasn't sure she could believe him. But, God, she wanted to.

She felt like she was in a sinking ship with him. They had to jump before it took them down with it. All it would take Parker was a search warrant and he'd find enough evidence to pin Aaron's death on him. Aaron's death. Something cracked inside her head.

"I'm so sorry," Elena said through tears. "But they know."

Then she darted around Damon, out of the bistro and into the snow.

That's all for now, let me know if you like it. And also if you want to rant about the TVD finale, I'm all ears.

Hope you have a great week, cheers!