...

Small hands that clung to the bottom hem of a man's overcoat. Bloody knuckles, dirty fingernails.

The sound of crying. A slap, then: whimpering. And the horrible empty feeling of a giant pit in his stomach. They were going to leave him behind. They were going to leave him alone.

Despite everything they'd done to him, he still loved them, and he couldn't bear the thought of how much they must hate him to leave him like that...

...

A shattering sound startled Enzo awake. An involuntary shaking racked his body for a moment before he managed to get himself under control. That horrible dream…

There was another sound and he was instantly alert, his senses on edge. After he had gotten a little more used to being human again, they had eventually started to feel less dull, and more like second nature. It was what it was. He could get used to almost anything.

Almost.

He didn't need to turn on the light. His night vision was still incredibly good. Who knew, maybe it was an after effect from being locked up in that dark room all those years ago. Everything they had done to him had made him who he was.

A scraping sound. A too loud exhalation, then an "Oh, come on!"

A smile formed on his lips. He turned the corner and there she was, Bonnie, kneeling on the floor, not a foot from the still open door, trying to pick up the shards of that ugly vase she had insisted they keep next to the door as an umbrella stand. And who needed an umbrella stand anyways?

"Let me do that, love." His voice sounded hoarse from sleep and maybe a bit from the bourbon he had had earlier, over at Damon's new bar.

She looked up, defeated, and ready to cry. "I ruined the vase…"

"It's alright, love. I'll get you another one."

"You never even liked this one." She pouted. She was very adorable when she was upset. But he'd better keep that thought to himself.

"No," he admitted, "I never did. But it doesn't matter. You did, and I'll promise I'll find you another one just as ugly as this one to replace it."

She tried to slap him, but missed. She rolled her eyes at herself, "I swear I only had two shots, Elena and Vickie had way more! Caroline didn't, but she…"

"Oh ya? Shots of what?"

"Tequila? I think? - I really shouldn't have agreed to that, I have to teach tomorrow and there's shards of porcelain all over the floor and-"

"I'll take care of that. But first… let me escort you to your chambers, Ms. Bennett." And with that, he swiftly picked her up and carried her over to the bedroom. She didn't even protest, she just wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her weary head against his chest.

Only the next morning would she remember his injury and worry whether she had hurt him at all.

When Enzo had laid her down, taken her shoes off and put a blanket over her, he stroked her hair and watched her starting to fall asleep.

"I hope it was a good girls' night out then, love."

"Ya," she mumbled, smiling, she was already half asleep. She clung to his hand, and pulled him close to her. He sunk down right next to her, thinking the vase could wait until morning.

"Care and I made up, we think Damon will propose soon, Vickie is starting to come around a little, and I think I finally got them to understand that you and I aren't just some Stockholm syndrome creepy type of couple…"

"Oh ya? And may I ask how you managed to convince them?"

"I may have told them..." Her breathing evened out and she fell asleep before she ever got to finish her sentence. He smiled. "Good night, Bonnie Bennett," he whispered and softly kissed her forehead.

...

Jeremy had flown in to see Elena as soon as she had woken up. To see his parents, too. But he had had to go back quickly to complete an elaborate mission, a hunting trip they had planned for near on a year and whose execution depended on him being there.

As he sat in his small "office" now, still grimy from the road, he felt a sense of longing when he finally returned her latest call. As soon as he had gotten back, Amber had told him Elena needed to talk to him, and that it sounded urgent, and he had found himself running in and straight to his phone.

"Elena?"

"Jeremy!" She pretty much yelled his name, and for a second he was alarmed, until he remembered that Damon had opened a bar and that that was probably where she was hanging out right then.

"Amber said you called and it was urgent…"

"What? Excuse me, hello? - Ugh, Damon stop! It's Jer, let me… - Jer? Jeremy?"

For a moment there he thought their connection would just end, but then it got much quieter and suddenly he could actually understand her.

"Sorry about that, Damon is trying out his new subwoofer and… anyways, Jer. How'd the hunt go?"

He smiled. He could just see her now, standing outside the bar, phone pressed to her ear, wearing her typical "worried older sister" expression.

"It went alright," he lied. He didn't want to worry her.

"Jer. You're not lying to me, are you?"

She was too smart for her own good. He had to cut to the chase if he wanted to evade further questions. "So, what's up? What's so urgent? Do you need me to come out to Mystic Falls?" He laughed.

"To be honest, I kinda really need you here, Jeremy. It's… you remember how we found out dad used to work for the Augustine Society, right?"

"Yeah, of course…" Jeremy fell silent and bit his lip. He didn't like to be reminded of that part of their family's history. And he knew for a fact that Elena bringing it up right now wasn't a great sign.

It remained quiet on the other end and he started frowning.

"Elena?"

"It's just… I really tried to focus on the good stuff they did. Like Megan… But that was when he was still-"

"Dead. Right."

"I need to talk to him about a few… 'things,' and I thought maybe you could help me?"

Jeremy rubbed his eyes. For a moment he looked down on his bloodied muddied shoes, his soaked shirt. He wasn't sure Elena would appreciate or accept what had become of him. It was easy from a distance, but in the same city?

He was also still wary of the return of his parents. Of Bonnie with Enzo… Of Vickie being back.

Of a lot of things. Mystic Falls was not the same to him as it was to Elena. To him, it was no longer home, but a reminder of all the pain he'd had to endure. And the return of the dead people in his life was a little too much to deal with at the moment.

You okay? Amber mouthed from the doorway, where she had just poked her head in. He tried to smile, and nodded.

"Elena…" he drew out her name and could feel her breathing change.

"You're not coming back here, are you?" She sounded defeated, and he felt a pang of guilt. He loved her more than anyone. He didn't want to hurt her, but...

"I'm sorry, I…" He couldn't help a stupid shake creeping into his voice.

She surprised him by understanding before he had said anything else.

"It's alright, Jer. I get it. Too much happened here. I'm guessing Bonnie still being here doesn't help much, either, huh?"

He imagined her smiling knowingly as he could only manage a grumble.

"I'll let you go now," she said warmly. "I love you, Jer. Please be safe out there, and… call me a little more often, okay?"

"I will. I'm sorry, Elena."

"It's okay. Don't be."

"I love you."

With that, he hung up. He was still holding his phone long after they had ended their conversation. It was Amber who finally jolted him out of his thoughts by grabbing it and saying, "Come on, lazy, let's clean that nasty pick up truck now."

He nodded an okay, then followed her out. There was so much blood. It really was disgusting.

...

When Bonnie woke up in the morning, Enzo had already gotten up to run some errands for Damon. The two had agreed on being partners of sorts, with Damon acting as bar patron and dealing with their distributors, while Enzo was doing a lot of the "behind the scenes" work. Today he was supposed to meet up with an accountant to go over their books.

Even thinking about it made Bonnie shake her head in wonder. This Enzo was so different from the person she used to think he was. She smiled a little wistfully. Their relationship had started out very rocky. She still vividly remembered how she had hated him.

But now here they were.

Slowly, she peeled herself out of the sheets, then got up to get a shower. She was relieved that her headache wasn't too bad after all. An ibuprofen or two should be enough. And abstinence for the foreseeable future!

As the water pelted down on her skin, she just enjoyed it for a bit. The building steam wafted out of the shower and soon filled the small bathroom while she just stood there and let her thoughts wander… She remembered her friends' stricken faces when she had told them about hiding from the Armory, and how she had been so angry at Enzo at first…

...

He had looked at her, had tried to explain himself, and for some weird reason she had believed him that he had good intentions. She still wasn't quite sure why, but apparently she'd always had the tiniest soft spot for him, even if for the longest time she hadn't admitted it to herself.

She'd only been in the cabin for two weeks or so, laying low, when she had told him she'd had enough and that she'd rather fight the Armory heads on with her friends than hiding forever until it all blew over. Besides, she hated feeling so powerless and dependent on him of all people.

To her utter surprise he had agreed almost immediately, and without a fight, to take her back. His reaction had left her flustered. She still remembered thinking a bewildered, "Okay?" There had been something in his eyes that day, she still didn't know what, and she'd never asked him...

They had sat together in the car for what felt like a long time, and barely said a word. It was very untypical for both of them. But it had been a strange time.

In the end, what had persuaded her that he was the only person that actually had her interests at heart, the one person that put himself at risk to protect her, instead of the other way around, the first selfless person she'd been around in a long time, was the fact that none of her so-called friends had even noticed she'd been gone.

She had been gone for over two weeks and no one had noticed. Their lives had simply gone on. Granted, they all had had a lot of stuff going on in their lives - or they had currently been unavailable like Elena and Damon - but still, it had been quite eye opening.

Caroline had started crying when Bonnie had told her about it last night, and of course Bonnie had felt bad about it. But it was what it was. It wouldn't stand between them. It had simply led Bonnie's life on the path it was on now, and that was with Enzo.

Three years ago, when she had realized how everyone's lives had just gone on without her, she had eventually walked over to the Mystic Grill again, where Enzo had dropped her off earlier, and walked over to where he had still been sitting, nursing a lonely tumbler of whiskey, staring off into nothing. She'd walked up to him, haltingly, then stopped in front of him.

When he'd looked up, she had expected a smug look on his face, but his expression had been completely shuttered and she had had no clue just what he had been thinking.

"I want to go back to the cabin," she'd announced as she had flopped on a chair opposite him, stealing a sip of his drink.

"Oh? You've been out of 'captivity' a mere few hours and you're already done with freedom and 'fighting the Armory head on?' I guess it didn't go so well…"

She had been annoyed and angry with him. But she had only rolled her eyes and stared at him pointedly.

"So? Can we go back now? And can we get a few more of my things on the way?"

Whatever she had thought of him back then, she had to give it to him that he had started to win her over a long time ago. And maybe that particular day had been the first one where she had actually allowed herself to admit it.

Later, when they had just gotten her stuff packed into the trunk of the car, he gave her a sideways glance and said with an unusually tender tone, "They really don't know what they have in you, Bonnie Bennett."

And while she'd never tell this to anyone else who hadn't been there, his words had made her cry…

...

Elena felt too comfy, too at home. She had come over to her parents' new house, and it looked eerily like her childhood home. She guessed her mom still had the same style - and why wouldn't she?

She sat on a tall bar stool at her mom's proudest new possession, a kitchen island, and sipped a still hot tea. In front of her stood a plate with a leftover piece of a beautiful strawberry torte.

"This was so good, mom, but I don't think I can eat any more. I'm so stuffed!"

Miranda Gilbert smiled at her daughter. "It's my first time trying out this new recipe. We're having a bake sale for the Founding Families meet-up later this week, so I figured I'd better try it out first."

"They'll love it, mom."

"I'm glad you like it, sweetheart."

"And I'm glad it's a bake sale and not a cook-out," Elena grinned, making her mom shush her. Some things didn't change, the dead might come back, but her mom would never be a good cook.

Elena was happy to see that her mom had adjusted so well to being back after almost ten years. She had basically picked up where she had left off and it all seemed to work out perfectly.

Same for her dad… Who she needed to talk to, still. She had decided today was going to be the day. After talking to Jeremy and knowing he'd not come back anytime soon - if ever - she thought it best to get it over with.

"Do you think dad will be home soon?" She asked her mom and got up to help her clean up.

"I got it, Elena, you go on and sit back down and tell me a bit about you and Damon. - Your dad should really be here any minute now. What was it you wanted to talk to him about?"

"Uh… It's complicated." She was spared a longer answer, when both women heard the door being opened in the hallway.

A minute later, Grayson's face appeared in the doorway and he took a double-take. "Elena, sweetheart! It's good to see you here. You staying for dinner?"

She smiled, pointed to the cake and said, "not after this. Which is probably for the better - at least if mom is cooking."

"Oh come on!" Miranda said exasperatedly, but smiling. "Enough already! Grayson, why don't you and Elena go out to the patio while I'll try and get some sandwiches ready."

The man raised an eyebrow, "Everything okay?"

"Ya!" Elena said it a little too quickly, she could see that her father didn't quite buy it. He gently put a hand on her back and steered her toward the screendoor leading into the backyard.

They both sat down in the comfortable, if worn, whicker chairs and Grayson just looked at her for a moment.

"You want to talk about what I used to do, don't you? You want to know what it means, and what it means that you and the man you love, Damon, used to be vampires." He sighed when she nodded.

"You know we found out about your involvement with the Augustine Society a long time ago…"

"And about our legacy as a family of vampire hunters, yes. It must have been hard for you. I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"Hard?" She cocked her head. She found it hard to read him. She had never ever had trouble with that before. She had always thought he was a simple man - in the best sense of the word. But he really wasn't.

"With you and people that you care about being vampires back then, it must have been horrible to think your own father could have hunted or harmed you, given the chance."

"Would you have done that, though?"

He looked at her, his brow furrowed. "Hunted you? Never."

"Well, your 'friends' at the Society had me locked up for a while, did you know that?" She had him. He looked completely shocked. It was a triumph she could have done without. "They had Damon, too. Tortured him for five years. Of course that was before you were even born…"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. Did they… did they do anything to you?" He wiped his brow with one wrist. Her confession had clearly unsettled him.

"Dad. You need to help me understand something. Because I really can't. You knew what they did, didn't you? You knew vampires weren't just inanimate things. You knew they weren't soulless beings without feelings. You knew…"

"Yes." He looked her straight in the eyes. "I did."

"Then how could you do what you did? How could you torture innocent people-"

He stood up then, and started pacing. "They were not innocent, Elena. Vampires never are. They are killers. You should know."

She pulled her legs up toward her chest and watched him do his rounds. Who was this man?

"So you're not denying the torture."

He shot her a glance. "What do you want me to say here? What do you expect from this conversation?"

"I - I don't know. To understand you? - How could the man I know as a loving, caring dad do something so horrendous? You always put others' well-being over your own!"

"Which is why I did what I did."

She scoffed at his words, but he continued anyway.

"If you found out all that, you must have also seen the files collecting evidence of our successes. Isn't that so?"

"Yes," she admitted, "But how is one person's life worth more than another's? And-"

He interrupted her abruptly. "They were not persons to me."

It was like he had physically hit her. She stared at him. "So you really think when I was a vampire, I was not a person anymore?"

"It's… difficult."

"Is it?!" Elena stood up, too. Her heart was beating so fast. "You masked your… your cruelty, your desire to hurt as scientifically motivated experiments or at best innocent curiosity. - Did you honestly think I'd believe that to be true? Did you even want me to believe you?"

"Elena…"

He came close to her, touched her cheek. He was a tall man, with a handsome face, and despite everything, she still saw the loving father in him.

"The world is gray. Am I proud of everything I did? No. But I did a hell of a lot of good! The Society did amazing things! There's a whole village in Chad that is only alive because some of our doctors were willing to do what we are doing and that's just one example!" He sighed as she pulled away. "It's as they say, if you could save a thousand people if you killed just one, wouldn't you do it? Wouldn't you?"

It was then that something in her shuttered closed. She couldn't really be angry, she couldn't hate him, even if part of her wanted to. But she also couldn't go on seeing him the way she used to. It was as if her father was back in appearance only, but the man that had come back, the man behind the facade, was someone entirely different.

And how did you mourn someone who was technically still there?

She felt a tear escape out of the corner of her eye. "Damon was tortured for five years," she muttered, "His friend Enzo, for seventy. Seventy years, a lifetime of torture. In the name of what?! You can't tell me that making someone scream and bleed and die and come back to life to scream and bleed some more, you can't tell me that that saved anyone! You can't even tell yourself that! What you did was for your own pleasure. For yours and that of your cronies, your Society friends. For your pleasure?!"

Grayson stared at her, his gaze strangely absent, his face smooth. "Elena…"

She raised a hand to stop him. There was bile at the back of her throat and she was stupidly worried she'd throw up in front of him, so she started running.

She ran through the screendoor, past her concerned mother calling out for her, through the main door and out. Out onto the street and far away.

Only once she had finally reached her car and opened the door with shivering hands, did she get out her cell phone and called the only number that mattered right now.

"Damon?" She could barely say it loud enough for him to hear before the tears washed away her ability to speak.

...

Thank you two again for your kind feedback: Anna and Shadowdancer. You make this so much more fun to publish. :)

Anna, I guess you got your answer concerning Jeremy. But who knows. He might be up to something and we might revisit him.

Shadowdancer: yes, I feel like the twins needed an explanation of sorts. There might be a scene with them in the future, maybe we'll see their side of things more. And it was definitely time for some lightheartedness before this chapter, and a Stefan - Damon scene was also long due.