Hi, friends! So, in between the crazy schedule I have of being an adult, teaching barre classes, being involved in a dozen other things, church, etc., my laptop quite literally blew up - sparks and everything. Thankfully, I was able to recover files so I didn't lose the 40 or so pages of this I had written. Now that I have a shiny new Mac (my first!), we're back in business. Updates will still be a bit slower - see above! - but, at least I can actually write again. Thanks for hanging in there!
But really - thank you all so much for reading!
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Vampire Diaries.
His stomach gave a nervous roll as he raised his fist and knocked. He had walked up Elena's front porch steps and knocked on her front door a thousand times before. He had stood on her welcome mat when she was nothing more than the daughter of Miranda Gilbert. He had stood there when he was asking her on a date every other day, determined she would say yes eventually. He had stood there when they kissed for the first time, when they fought, when they made up. He had treaded over the doormat when he left her house and their relationship for the last time. But, of all the times he had stood there, he had never been this nervous.
Several moments passed. He raised his fist and knocked again, wondering vaguely if Elena was chickening out. Given that she had kept a child from him for three years, he wouldn't put it past her to leave him waiting on the front porch. He was preparing himself to knock again when the door swung open, revealing a frazzled Elena.
"I'm sorry," she said, not giving him a chance to say anything. He heard a loud crash from somewhere upstairs, followed by laughter. Elena sighed. "I've been trying to get her to bed for the last hour, but Caroline stopped by and gave her chocolate. She's riding a sugar high right now." She stood aside to allow Damon to enter. Another crash and shriek of laughter rang out.
"What is she doing?" he asked, looking upward.
"Trashing her playroom," Elena answered. "Quite literally from the sounds of it." She looked at Damon, her nerves fluttering. "I need to get her corralled and in bed," she said. She almost sounded apologetic. "Can you hang around?" Damon nodded.
"I'll wait," he confirmed. A thought occurred to him. "Do you… I mean, do you need… Should I, like, help or something?" He wasn't sure what his role in all of this was. Elena shook her head.
"You don't have to," she said. "I mean, I guess if you want to…" It was Damon's turn to shake his head.
"I'll wait down here," he said. He was planning on baby steps when it came to this whole parenting thing. He thought Elena looked disappointed as she nodded.
"You know where the living room is," she said. She turned and started up the stairs. Damon blew out a breath and made his way through the still familiar home. While the layout was the same, the walls were freshly painted and the hardwood floors highly polished. The furniture was all different, comfortable and inviting, yet still stylish.
The faint sounds of Elena and Molly arguing over bedtime could be heard above him. He shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling awkward and out of place. He was too nervous to sit down, so he wandered over to the fireplace mantle. It was lined with photos and trinkets. On the wall above it was an enlarged photo of Molly and Elena, printed on canvas. It looked to have been taken recently, given Molly's age in the photo. The pair were on the beach, Molly in a white cotton dress, Elena in rolled up jeans and a simple white t-shirt. They were both barefoot and laughing, their hair – Elena's in her usual waves, Molly's pinned back with her usual bow – blowing around them.
It looked to be part of a series of annual photo shoots, Damon realized as he looked at the two smaller canvases on either side of the large one. The one on the left was of a bald baby, beaming at the camera and wearing nothing but a diaper and an obnoxious headband. He knew by the eyes that the baby was Molly. On the right, a Molly at an age somewhere between baby and almost three was captured in black and white, mid twirl in what looked to be her bedroom, wearing yet another dress and bow. He was really going to have to ask Elena if she ever wore anything else.
He pulled his eyes away from the photos on the wall to look at the photos lining the mantle. There were a couple of Elena's parents and one of Jeremy, along with a shot of Elena and Caroline and another from Caroline and Stefan's wedding. He ignored the pang of guilt that accompanied the wedding photo. They had sent him an invitation. He threw it in the trash and spent their wedding weekend – he couldn't quite remember where, just that it hadn't been with his family.
The rest of the photos were of Molly. Molly as an infant, sleeping in her bassinet. There was a first birthday photo, Molly in a high chair, covered in cake. Elena was in that photo with her, laughing. There were photos from Christmas, photos in Easter dresses. There were candid photos and a photo of Molly in a ladybug Halloween costume that looked to have been taken just a few months ago. At the end of the mantle was a shot with Molly and his parents, along with a photo of Molly with Stefan and Caroline.
It was then that he realized just how much of Molly's life he had missed. He had already considered that he wasn't a part of her major milestones, like first steps and first birthdays. But he hadn't thought about the other things he missed out on, little moments like twirling in her bedroom and wearing her mother's high heels. Elena was upstairs right then, tucking her in for the umpteenth time over. He had never tucked Molly in.
He half turned on his heel, ready to go upstairs and take over the bedtime routine, make Elena stand on the sidelines. He stopped himself, however. He didn't know how to do bedtime, how to make Molly stop doing whatever it was she had been doing when he got there. It had quieted down upstairs now, signaling that Elena had things under control.
So, he waited, hovering in the living room, too nervous to sit down. He tried to use the time to figure out what he wanted to say to Elena, how he wanted to say it. He wanted to scream and yell. He wanted to be an adult, talk rationally about things. He wanted to run as far away as his legs would take him. He still wanted to go upstairs and help tuck Molly in.
It felt like an eternity passed before Elena's footsteps sounded on the stairs. A few moments later, she entered the living room.
"Thanks for waiting," she said tentatively. "She didn't go down without a fight."
"I waited three years to find out I had a kid, what's a few more minutes?" Damon asked without thinking about the words coming out of his mouth. He sighed as Elena tried to cover up that his jab had hurt her. He couldn't come out swinging. "I'm sorry," he said with a shake of his head.
"It's not like I didn't deserve it," Elena replied. She motioned at the couch. "Have a seat." Damon looked at her for a long moment before moving to the sofa. She perched on an armchair across from him. She looked as nervous as he felt. She waited, watching him. She wanted him to speak first, to give her an idea of where his head was. A few minutes passed before Damon let out a long sigh.
"I don't know where to start," he finally stated. "I have absolutely no idea where to start." Elena bit her lip for a moment.
"How about at the beginning?" she asked timidly.
"What's the beginning?" Damon asked. "A few days ago when I found out about Molly? Or three years ago when you found out about her?"
"I was thinking more like three and a half years ago, when I left Mystic Falls," Elena replied. "When we both left Mystic Falls." Damon looked at her and, slowly, nodded. Elena blew out a deep breath.
"Okay," she said. "The beginning."
Damon waited. Elena owed him an explanation.
"You left," she started. Immediately, Damon found himself on the defense.
"You don't get to blame this on me," he stated, pointing a finger at her. "I haven't been raising our kid a couple thousand miles away without your knowledge for the last three years." Elena closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. She knew he was going to be angry. She had tried to prepare for it. Still, it was hard.
"Damon, I'm trying to tell you everything," she said with as much patience as she could muster. "I owe you that. But, you need to let me. You can ask all the questions you want. You can say whatever you want to say to me. But, I need you to let me talk." Damon nodded.
"Fine," he relented.
"And, Damon, I also need you to try to keep your voice down," Elena added. Her nerves were visible. "Molly is asleep upstairs. I don't want her to be woken up by raised voices. She's the only innocent one in all of this, and I'd like to keep it that way." Damon nodded again. This, he actually did agree with.
"So," he prompted. "I left."
"You left," Elena repeated. "I was devastated. Our relationship was over. I had just graduated from college. My parents and Jeremy were moving away. Everything was upside down and inside out. I wanted to run away and so I did. I moved with my parents and brother to the opposite side of the country.
"It was two weeks to the day of our arrival in San Bernardino that I found out I was pregnant. I was on the couch, watching God knows what. That's all I did in those first few weeks after you left – sit around feeling sorry for myself. Jeremy came in and turned the channel. I flipped out, yelling and screaming. He said 'God, stop acting so hormonal.' And then, I knew. I knew I was pregnant. It all clicked. I left the house, bought a test, came home, locked myself in the bathroom, and peed on a stick.
"Jeremy was the first person I told," Elena continued. She let out short laugh and shook her head at the memory. "He was uncharacteristically supportive. He held me while I cried after I told him. He sat with me and held my hand while I tried to call you, over and over again. He was with me when I told Mom and Dad." Damon squirmed uncomfortably. He should have been the one there with Elena when she told her parents. He should have been the first person she told. He was angry. He was full of guilt. It was a dichotomy he couldn't understand.
"Jeremy was the best uncle," Elena said. "He had so many flaws, but he loved Molly. He played with her, spoiled her. Sometimes, I think she was the only reason he lived as long as he did." Damon bit his lip to stop himself from saying something he would regret later. He wasn't there to hear about Jeremy. He was sorry the kid was gone and he knew Elena was mourning the anniversary of his death, but all he cared about was his daughter.
"Anyway," Elena said, seemingly reading his mind, "He was with me when I told my parents. He sat right there by me, ready to jump to my defense. But, they were nothing less than completely supportive. I thought they were going to be disappointed in me, embarrassed that their daughter had gone and got herself knocked up out of wedlock. Instead, Mom went with me to my doctor's appointments and Dad made sure I was taking care of myself and the baby."
Again, Damon felt the swarm of guilt and anger. He should have been the one at doctor appointments and making sure Elena and their baby were healthy.
"I kept trying to call you. I emailed you. I texted you. I even wrote you a letter, but I had no idea where to send it. Finally, I called and told your parents. I had hoped they were in touch with you and could at least ask you to call me, even tell you themselves that I was pregnant. But, you weren't talking to them either.
"It's pretty much rinse and repeat on that front – me, my parents, your parents, Stefan, even Caroline, we all tried to tell you in every way we could think of. You never answered. You never replied. You never let anyone get two words in if you saw them in person…"
"I was angry," Damon interrupted. "And I was trying to move on, make something of myself…"
"I don't want to hear why you turned your back on everyone," Elena said, cutting him off sharply. That was a whole other can of worms that would need to be opened at some point, but she could only handle but so much at a time. "At least, not tonight. Tonight is about Molly." Damon sighed.
"Fine," he said. "But you can't make me the villain."
"I'm not," Elena said with far more patience than she had. "I'm telling you about Molly. A big part of that is the fact that I couldn't get you to answer your phone." Damon sighed.
"Continue," he said with an edge of annoyance. Elena took a breath to calm herself.
"About a month after I found out I was pregnant, I started to accept that I was going to do this without you. I decided I was going to do this on my own terms. I got the job with the Marcos, rented an apartment. It was this tiny little thing, only one bedroom. I figured a baby wouldn't take up that much space and it would be sleeping in my room, anyway, which shows how much I knew at the time. I was so determined to do this by myself. I don't know what I was trying to prove, or who I was trying to prove it to, but I didn't want anyone's help."
Damon bit his lip to keep himself from replying, from pointing out that he would have been there, that he would have helped, had she bothered to tell him about the baby. In truth, given where his head was at the time, he didn't know what he would have done.
"Of course, my parents, my mom, in particular, were insistent on hovering over me, making sure I was eating right and taking care of myself. Your parents, too, especially your mom, were calling constantly, having food delivered, baby gifts sent, whatever they could do from afar. Meanwhile, I was putting in long hours at the Marcos, working 10, 12 hours a day. Back then, I thought I was just proving I could do it all – have a career, be a mother, support myself and my child. Now, I know I was trying to stay busy to keep myself from thinking about how big of a mess everything was."
Elena paused to shake her head. Damon could sense that she was struggling with memories of days gone by. Again, he felt a surge of sympathy and a will to comfort her. He refused to give in, however, and so, remained silent. Elena took another deep breath and continued.
"Throughout my pregnancy, the doctors were concerned about my blood pressure. I developed preeclampsia around my 20th week. I was pushing myself too hard, trying to take on too much, deal with so many different things. They kept warning me. They kept telling me to slow down, to relax, to put my feet up and, as my dad liked to say, 'just be pregnant for a while.' Maybe I was too stubborn, or too proud, or too whatever, but I didn't listen. I guess I just didn't understand the consequences."
Elena stopped speaking again. Her hands were shaking slightly. She clasped them together to hide her nerves from Damon. As guilty as she felt about keeping things from Damon, the guilt she held on to over how she nearly lost Molly and died herself far surpassed it. She pursed her lips, bracing herself to tell the next part of the story.
"Elena?" Damon prompted. There was a note of impatience in his voice.
"I was in a meeting with the Marcos' when it happened," she continued, her voice a octave lower. "I was talking about a press release I planned to send that afternoon, and the room started to spin. I was lightheaded. Then, I just slumped over. The Marcos' called an ambulance and when I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. My mom was there. She had been crying. She told me they had to take Molly and that she was in the NICU.
"God, Damon, you have no idea…"
"You're right," Damon interrupted. "I don't. I have absolutely no idea about any of it." Elena sighed and stood. She started pacing the room.
"I know I didn't tell you about Molly," she said. "Whether you believe it or not, I feel incredibly guilty about it. I always have and I always will. But, it's my fault, and my fault alone, that Molly was born premature. I didn't take care of myself. I didn't listen to what the doctors tried to tell me. I didn't listen to my parents or your parents or my brother or Caroline or anyone else who told me I was over doing it. And because of me, my baby nearly died."
"Our baby," Damon corrected. Elena glanced at him, but didn't reply, choosing to continue talking.
"She was so tiny. She was 3lbs, 8oz when she was born. Her skin was translucent. She had to have phototherapy. She couldn't breathe on her own at first. She was on a ventilator. She couldn't eat. Her sucking reflex hadn't developed yet. They fed her through a feeding tube. I planned to breastfeed her, but instead, my baby was eating through a tube, just to stay alive." Tears filled Elena's eyes as she remembered those days.
"She was almost three weeks old before I could hold her. She felt so frail in my arms, but the doctors insisted she was getting stronger. She was off the ventilator, but she was on a CPAP machine. She was still on oxygen when I took her home. She learned how to eat, and the phototherapy helped. Even as little and as sick as she was, she was perfect, beautiful.
"I tried again to get in touch with you during those early days, and I know your parents did too. I was so afraid she wasn't going to make it, and I wanted you to get to meet her, and say goodbye. You didn't answer, Damon!"
Elena's voice held a frantic note, now. Damon knew, despite all the proof he had that she had tried to get in touch with him, that she was telling the truth. She had wanted him to know about Molly. She had wanted him to be there. He roughly ran a hand over his face, considering the what ifs and what could have beens. He had known Molly for all of two months. He had known she was his daughter for a week. He already couldn't imagine a world in which she didn't exist.
"Taking her home was terrifying," Elena continued. "With the oxygen, and the fact that I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, I was scared to death. My parents helped. My mom took care of me while I tried to take care of Molly. When I finally went back to work, she watched Molly for a while before I finally bit the bullet and put her in daycare a few days a week. Then, everything happened with Jeremy, right before her first birthday and we sort of traded roles. I started taking care of my mom, at least for a while." Elena sighed and sat down once more on her armchair.
"And the next two years were pretty much me and Molly, doing what had to be done, until your dad called with an offer to come home. I took it." Elena looked squarely at Damon then. "I took it, knowing you would find out about Molly."
A long silence fell between them as Damon processed everything Elena had told him. There were still so many missing blanks.
"I just don't understand," Damon finally stated. "You and your family, my parents and Stefan and Caroline. All of them knew about Molly. You all have been functioning as your own weird sort of family and there I am, completely out of the loop, like I didn't exist."
Elena had always been able to rein in her temper better than Damon. Even now, when she wanted to yell at him and remind him he was the one who separated himself from his family, she could sense that he was hurt. His family had known his little girl, had been a part of her life. They had visited her in the NICU and hadn't missed a birthday. Meanwhile, he was living a separate life, without any of them, no idea what he was missing out on. Even if he made some wrong choices, she could see his point of view.
"Damon," Elena started softly, "I never wanted this. I never wanted to keep Molly from you. I know you don't believe that. I know I don't have a lot of proof to the contrary. But, I didn't want to keep her from you. I wanted you to be there, be a part of her life. It just… It happened. I gave up trying to reach you and after a certain point, it seemed to be the right decision."
"After a certain point," Damon repeated. "You mean after my life choices got plastered all over the news."
"Well, yes," Elena admitted. There was no sense in lying to Damon any longer. "Regardless of how you feel about me, about your family, you can't deny that you haven't been the best example of a male role model as of late."
"Had I had a chance to be Molly's father from the beginning, that might have been different," Damon shot back.
"Maybe," Elena said, even though she didn't believe things would have been different. Damon stood now, resuming Elena's earlier pacing path.
"I don't know how to handle this," he admitted. "I have a kid, Elena. Do you understand that? I have a kid!"
"I understand that better than you think," Elena replied. "Molly wasn't exactly planned. I wouldn't change a single thing, because I wouldn't have Molly otherwise, but I do know what it's like to suddenly have a kid."
In that moment, she envisioned them standing amongst burning rubble, neither of them sure where to go or what to do. Her inclination was to fix things, to figure out how to make it all right, repair all the wrongs. She had no idea how to fix anything, though. They were in over their heads. There was something else she needed Damon to know, however.
"Damon," she began, "I don't want anything from you. I don't expect anything from you. I don't need anything from you. If you want to be in Molly's life, I'm not going to stop you. She deserves a father. But, I'm also not going to make you be a part of her life if you don't want to be. The only thing I want is to protect her. She hasn't done anything wrong."
Slowly, Damon turned to Elena. He studied her for a long moment.
"Do you really think I could turn my back on her now?" he asked. "I know you think I'm a son of a bitch, Elena. And, maybe, I am. But, Molly is my little girl. I'm her father. And I'm going to be a part of her life."
Elena was surprised to feel a weight be lifted from her shoulders. That was what she wanted – Damon to be a part of Molly's life. Even if it meant he had to be a part of hers.
"Okay," she agreed.
"Okay?" Damon asked. "That's it?" Elena sighed.
"Okay," she repeated. "Molly deserves to have her father."
"What did she suddenly do to earn that?" Damon asked. "Turn three years old, get the right to a daddy?"
"Damon, you can't do this," Elena said softly. "You don't have to like me, but for Molly's sake, you have to at least be cordial."
"There's going to be a bunch of rules to this, aren't there?" Damon asked. "A whole list of what I can and can do?"
"In the past year, you have been in the news for binge drinking, alleged drug use, and a string of women," she reminded him calmly. "You are, and always have been, hot headed. I know you're mad at me, Damon. Frankly, I'm pretty pissed off at you too. I'm doing everything I can to put everything that happened between us behind me so I can focus on raising my daughter. I want you to be in her life. But, until I can trust you with her, yes, there are going to be stipulations."
"Such as?" Damon asked in bored voice. "And stop referring to her as yours. She's mine, too."
"I don't want her to know you're her father," Elena replied, ignoring Damon's jab. "Not until I can trust that you are going to stick around and that you are going to be a good influence on her life." Damon opened his mouth to argue, but found he really couldn't. Elena didn't have a reason to trust him. He didn't have a reason to trust himself.
"Fine," he agreed. "I'll play along with that notion, at least for a while."
"Thank you," Elena said with a nod of her head. "I don't want her to get hurt. I don't want her to get used to you being her daddy, only for you to leave again."
"She's my daughter," Damon said again. "I'm not going to leave her."
"Okay," Elena said with a nod. He could tell she didn't believe him. "And Damon, you can do whatever you want when Molly isn't around. But, when she is with you, you cannot drink or pop prescription pills or pick up women. I don't want her around your friends. She will not be exposed to that lifestyle."
"I'll be a saint," Damon retorted. Elena sighed, working hard to keep her frustrations at bay.
"I just don't want Molly to get hurt," she said again. Damon put things together in his mind then and turned to face Elena.
"I hurt you," he stated. "And now, you're convinced I'm going to do the same to Molly." Elena shook her head.
"I don't trust you," she admitted. "Not with my daughter." Not with me, she added to herself.
"Our daughter," Damon corrected again. "She's not just yours. You're going to have to get used to that." Elena sighed and ran a hand through her hair. It was easier said than done to start thinking of Molly as "theirs" when she had been "hers" for so long.
"I know," she agreed. She stood then and Damon raised an eyebrow.
"Am I being dismissed?" he asked. Elena shook her head.
"I have something for you," she said. She went over to the built in shelving unit, opened a lower drawer, and took out a brown leather photo album. She returned and held it out to him. "I've been putting this together for you over the years. I always intended for you to know about Molly, Damon. And I thought, you might like some pictures of her." Damon looked at Elena as he took the photo album from her. She looked almost afraid.
Slowly, he lowered his gaze from Elena to the book in his hand. He opened it to a random page and his eyes fell on a black and white photo of Molly, once more playing in the sand. She had on a sailor themed bathing suit and a big, floppy sun hat. His lips twitched into a smile as he took in her happy face, her eyes sparkling even in the black and white photograph. He also recognized the photo. His mother had it framed and on display in the living room. He had looked at it every day when he had been recovering from his accident. He had never thought to wonder who was in the photo, too lost in his own troubles to care.
"Thank you," he said softly, not able to say anything else. Elena nodded. She then took a deep breath.
"I was thinking…" she ventured. Damon looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "It's still kind of chilly out, but Molly has been dying to go to the park. We're leaving for Atlanta in the morning and I found a park near the raceway I plan to take her to. Maybe you would want to join us? Spend some time with Molly?"
Damon found himself nodding in agreement before he had time to consider. "I'd like that," he said.
"Okay," Elena agreed. She pursed her lips. Damon knew that tell.
"What?" he asked.
"What?" Elena repeated.
"You have something to say. Say it. You have kept enough secret." Elena sighed, yet again surprised at how well he still seemed to know her.
"I know you're mad at me, at your parents," she started.
"With reason," Damon shot back. Elena nodded.
"With reason," she agreed. "You can be mad at me, Damon. That's fine and deserved. But, your parents… They love you. Talk to them. Try to forgive them. You don't have to forgive them today, but – this is ultimately on me. So stay mad at me, but forgive your parents." Damon shook his head.
"It's not that easy, Elena."
"It can be."
"No," Damon said, "it can't. It's a hell of a lot more complicated than just me, being mad at my family for not telling me about Molly." He pulled in a breath and then pushed it out. This was another topic for another time. "I should go. I need to pack for the race." Elena nodded.
"I need to do that too," she said. Damon started towards the front door, Elena trailing behind him. She still felt like there were more questions than answers. Damon noticed a pile of blue and white material and party supplies piled up on the dining room table across the hall.
"What's all that?" he asked, jerking the room towards the table.
"Molly's birthday party," Elena answered. "She wants a Frozen party. It's going to be on Tuesday, at 4:00. It's a bit unconventional, to have it during the week like that, but with the way we travel, we couldn't have her party on the weekend. And since Tuesday is…"
"Her birthday," Damon supplied, remembering her birthday was March 10. "Makes sense."
"You'll come?" Elena asked. "I mean, I know Molly would love to have you there and, well, you should be there." Damon swallowed nervously. He was going to attend his daughter's third birthday party. He nodded.
"I'll be there," he confirmed. He glanced up the stairs, wishing he had gone up when he arrived. He found he wanted to see Molly. Elena saw his glance.
"If you want to peek in on her, her room is my old bedroom," Elena said. Damon looked at her, almost embarrassed at being caught.
"Oh, um, I don't… I mean, I don't want to wake her."
"She sleeps like a rock," Elena said. "Once you finally get her to sleep, of course. Go on up. It's fine." She was trying, Damon realized. He needed to try too. He nodded.
"I won't be long," he promised. Elena gave him a small smile and excused herself. Quietly, Damon climbed the stairs. He knew exactly where Elena's room was, remembered which of the stairs creaked. Even in the dark, he found his way to Molly's room. It was hard to miss, as there was a big, pink 'M' hung on the partially open door.
Doing his best to keep his footsteps soft, he pushed open the door and for several moments, just stood in the frame, watching Molly sleep, her soft brown hair spread across the pillow. He felt his heart constrict as he realized his mother was right. He loved her already.
He tiptoed over to her bed and squatted down to find that she was indeed sleeping soundly, her hands tucked under her cheek. He smiled and pulled the blanket, a fluffy white and frilly thing, up around her.
"Sleep tight, princess," he whispered. He leaned down and, ever so gently, placed a kiss on her hair. He pulled himself away, and made his way back to the hallway, taking in what details he could of Molly's room as he went. It had been painted pink, and looked to be filled to the brim with dolls and girly play things that were completely out of his wheelhouse.
He made his way back down the stairs and just as he was about to pull the front door open to leave, he saw Elena, seated at the dining room table and working on party decorations. He sighed to himself and went to the dining room doorway.
"I'm heading out," he said. Elena looked up from the garland she was making out of tissue paper.
"Okay," she replied. "I guess we'll see you at the airport tomorrow." Damon nodded.
"Yeah," he agreed, watching as she worked. "You will."
"Goodnight, Damon." It took Damon a moment to reply, as though he were rooted to his spot, mesmerized by Elena threading tissue paper.
"Night, 'Lena," he said, finally. He saw her stiffen ever so slightly at the use of her old nickname, a name only he used. He turned away and let himself out, turning the lock on the front door as he went to make sure it locked behind him, the photo album tucked under his arm.
Back in his SUV, he slumped back against the headrest and took several deep breaths. He already knew, mere minutes into this parenting thing, that he was in over his head. But, whether it was Molly or Elena that intimidated him more, he didn't know.
I hope this chapter did a couple of things - filled in some of the missing backstory and showed how torn Damon is. He's angry, guilty, excited, terrified... There are so many things happening in his head.
Some of you have asked about Damon and Elena and where things stand with them. I've been trying to put in subtle gestures and hints about where they stand with one another, but rest assured: there are still feelings there, on both parts. They are just buried under things like secret babies, feuding families, and recovery from accidents.
Please let me know what you think!