Hi! So glad people are still around reading this story :) Your support and interest means so much, so thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts.

Now, this chapter is needed, but a little heavy. Just thought it calls for a warning.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Vampire Diaries, only my own characters and plots.

''Feelings are something you have,

not something you are.''

- Shannon L. Alder

After a night at the hospital, blood-works, an EEG, and a bunch of other tests, I was sent home with my mother the next day; medically fine but with a terrible headache and a heavy tiredness. They called it an extreme case of chronic fatigue. Hadn't I been working so much and being out of the house more than before, I don't think mum would've bought it. Maybe she didn't – but in that case she didn't let it show.

Three days later, and I was still stuck in bed. I couldn't handle it. I couldn't.

I was angry, I supposed. And trapped by a heavy blanket of hopelessness I couldn't get up from under. What could I ever do to help if every single time something horrible happened I was completely immobilised? If when someone tried to help me, they were struck down by something I obviously couldn't muster up the strength to control?

I tried not to think of myself as a liability. I did. But the thought kept crawling back into my mind, slithering like vines through cracked brick walls, grabbing hold of my sanity and refusing to let go.

My mother was worried. Whatever it was that I had started to build up shielding me from everyone had been completely torn down, and whenever she came close to me she became me and there wasn't anything left of me.

Every time my phone rang I let it ring. Every time someone came to the door, I heard it open and then shut. No one ever came up.

The thought of what I'd done played over and over in my head, dragging me deeper and deeper into the pit of despair I'd dug myself into. Would I ever forgive myself? I didn't even know if she was okay. She had to be. She'd just passed out, that's all. She would be okay. My hand started twitching. She would be okay. Tremors went through my arms, down to my abdomen. She would be okay. My whole body was shaking, and I grabbed a pillow, hugging it tightly to my chest.

I couldn't breathe. My throat hurt. My head. Everything.

These past couple of days I'd had several attacks just like this one. Before and after, I always knew they'd stop eventually. When I was right in the middle of it, it was like time had stopped. Nothing... nothing was. I wasn't.

All I had to do was breathe, that's what I'd been told. In through your nose and out your mouth. But I couldn't. Eventually, the body decided on its own to take in enough air. The shaking and tension would subside and I would breathe again.

''You need to eat, honey.''

''I know. I'm trying.''

My mother lowered the bowl in her hands and looked at me with sad eyes. ''I just hate seeing you like this.''

I hadn't told her about Elena. How could I? At first the thought my collapsing was because of the chaos that erupted at the ceremony. Which, of course, was partly true. But, telling her about all the rest – of course draping it in some clever lies and omissions – wouldn't work. First, I didn't have the energy to even try a somewhat believable lie. Second, even if I tried, she would be able to tell I wasn't honest. Third... I didn't want to talk about what happened. That didn't mean that I wanted to forget it, either; but I didn't know how to deal with it. How do deal with the anger simmering deep inside of me.

Because that's what I was. Angry. Frustrated. Disappointed.

I reached my hand out over the kitchen table. Mum caught the movement and immediately pushed the bowl of yoghurt over to me. I gingerly brought a spoonful to my mouth. It was raspberry flavoured, but I couldn't make out the taste.

It took me a while to finish. Mum didn't say anything, maybe she was scared I might not get it all down if she did interrupted. She smiled, though, when I gently put the spoon down.

''Your friends came by,'' she said suddenly, but quietly and hesitant. ''I... I didn't want you to be overwhelmed. But I thought I should tell you, now.''

I hummed.

''They are so worried about you,'' she continued. ''Elena especially. She really wanted to see you, but I had to make sure... you know. First.''

My heart was beating loudly in my chest. ''Elena was here?''

Mum smiled. ''Yeah. They all came by the day after...'' She paused. ''They all came by.''

So she was okay. Of course she was, I'd known that all along, hadn't I?

''I know they want to see you,'' Mum said,'' but I think maybe it'd be best to wait a few more days. We still need to get your energy up a bit.''

''Hm,'' I agreed, mostly because I knew she'd want an answer of some kind. My head was slowly filling with worry. I knew it wasn't logical, and I hated myself for it. I knew Elena, and she wasn't going to blame me for anything, not matter how much I blamed myself.

My mother stayed home from work a whole week because of me. I'd become some kind of walking, anxiety-ridden, guilt magnet; and I loathed every second of it. That's not who I wanted to be, but getting out of it was so hard. One step at a time, my mother told me. One meal at a time. One day at a time.

I wasn't sure what the state of my control was. The practising had stopped, and while my mother hadn't asked me about it I hadn't asked her about it either. If I wanted to get back to my life I had to pick it up again. Maybe I was scared of having to start all over. A part of me didn't want to try again, because it thought all my progress was lost. That part also started arguing with the hope in me – whenever I made my mind up to ask my mother to help me, the thought that it would be best not knowing if I still could control it crept in and ruined everything.

I avoided all calls. I hadn't picked up my phone even once since I started somewhat functioning again. Had I picked it up, maybe I wouldn't have found Elena in our kitchen one day, after my mother gently but firmly told me I had to come downstairs because I had a visitor.

''Hi,'' Elena smiled gently. ''How are you feeling?'' She was looking at me like I was one second away from breaking. Maybe I was.

I had been prepared to see her, albeit only for ten minutes, but I still managed to not get any words out. None seemed right.

''I'll give you girls some space,'' my mother said, and squeezed my shoulder reassuringly when she slipped past me.

Still, I couldn't speak. Elena took two long steps towards me and gave me a tight hug. ''It wasn't your fault.''

''I'm trying to tell myself that,'' I mumbled into her hair.

''How's that going?'' she leaned back and looked me in the eyes.

''Getting there,'' I admitted. ''I'm so sorry.''

''Don't worry,'' Elena said, pulling me towards the kitchen table. We sat down, and I realised how much lighter my body felt. Like a weight had been lifted. At least she was okay.

''I... I mean, we – everyone – tried to come see you but your mum told us it wasn't a good time.''

''Yeah, I've... I'm getting better.''

''If I have to tell you a thousand times that it wasn't your fault then I will,'' Elena said. ''Besides, passing out was a small price to pay considering what you did.''

For what felt like a long time, I struggled for words.

''What happened that night?'' I finally asked.

Elena thought it through. ''It was chaos. A lot of them where angry, the ghosts. But Bonnie managed to send everyone back. The only one seriously hurt... well,'' she grimaced. ''If you remember Tobias Fell.''

I nodded.

''So...'' I began, my voice cracking. ''Stefan?''

Immediately my body felt warmer. Even if it was a pleasant feeling, it wasn't mine – and all the work I'd put into building up a defence seemed like a bitter waste of time.

''He's good.'' Elena smiled, and I was still warm, trying to keep the creases on my forehead flat and not let it show that even though I was happy about it, my thoughts were aggrieved and I was angry at myself, and everything.

''You're sure?''

''Yeah.''

''And you guys are back together?''

''I think so,'' she beamed, but I could tell she was conflicted. ''He's...'' she added, struggling for words, ''he's distant, but... I think we'll be okay.''

Three words were on the tip of my tongue, but I wasn't sure if my question would come across as imposing or rude, or just... just plain wrong after everything that had happened. She had her boyfriend back. I was happy for her, despite the tug in my chest.

''What about Klaus?'' I asked.

''We'll handle that when...'' she paused, swallowing nervously, ''when he comes back.''

''Maybe he won't.''

She shook her head.

''And Rebekah?''

''She's still around,'' Elena made a face. ''Butting in everyone's business, but she's not too much trouble. I think she's mad at Klaus for leaving her.''

''Huh.''

''Maybe I should let you rest,'' Elena said, hesitant. ''And maybe come back later? I know this is all much just on its own.''

''Yeah,'' I said, managing a small smile. ''Sure.''

She eyed me worriedly as she got to her feet, and another me might've said something, but I couldn't get anything out that would sound remotely like what I wanted to convey.

After Elena left, I sat alone in the kitchen until my mother came back, thinking with joy about Elena being okay, and with sadness and frustration how I was too weak to function like I used to.

If Elena had come first, Damon came second. He showed up a few days later, and I didn't expect him. My mother had answered the door, sending me a look of suggestion that I had to dismiss after he left. He had slung himself on our sofa, making himself comfortable and looking at me expectantly without uttering a word. He did that a lot, I realised.

When I went to ask him what he wanted, he mouthed Mum at me and nodded his head towards the hall.

''Oh,'' I breathed. ''Hey, Mum?'' I called loudly, and I could practically see her wait a couple of seconds before answering. ''Could we get some tea?''

After deciding she was making enough noise in the kitchen to not overhear, Damon spoke in a low voice:

''You getting out of here anytime soon?''

I felt the corner of my mouth twitch. ''Straight down to business, huh? I don't even get a get well-card?''

''I mailed it.''

''Sure you did,'' I said. ''But, seriously, what's going on?''

The days since Elena had come by I had had a lot of time to think, going back and forth between just letting everything be or pulling myself together and turn this scary spiral back around. So far, no side was a winner, and I was stuck in a constant tug of war. I had regained a lot of energy, though, at least that had to count as something.

Damon leaned back, tossing one of our small pillows back and forth between his hands. ''I got some work for you. Stop you from moping around.''

''I'm...'' I stopped myself.

''Yeah, you're moping around.''

Leaning forward, head into hands, I let out a sigh. ''Yeah, I am. I know.''

''So, work,'' Damon said simply.

I hesitated, glancing up at him. ''What kind of work?''

He leaned forward and stuck his hand into a bag he'd brought with him. He handed me a stack of photos. I squinted. They were kind of dark and it was difficult to make out what was pictured.

''Need some help deciphering those,'' Damon explained. ''Would've brought you to the site, but since you're stuck here, as the gallant hero I am I got some copies for you.''

''Thank you.'' I went silent, frowning. ''What's all this about?''

Damon gave me a lopsided smile. ''Someone tell you about that whole ghost armageddon thing?''

''Yeah. Elena-'' I stopped mid sentence, thinking. Then something dawned on me. ''Does it have something to do with the fact that what I'm pretty sure is a long dead relative paid me a visit after the lighting ceremony?''

The woman's face was a faint memory by now, but the feeling hadn't gone away. Not completely. There had been something about her.

Damon's eyes snapped to mine. ''What relative?''

Shrugging, I sat down so that I was facing him. ''I don't know. I don't even know if we're actually related. I just had a feeling.''

''Aren't your instincts trustworthy?''

''I think so,'' I mumbled. ''Usually they are.'' When I thought about it, I couldn't come up with an example when they hadn't been right.

''They say anything?''

''Just my name,'' I replied quietly as the memory replayed itself in my mind. ''She was old.''

I glanced at him. ''So... I asked Elena before. But I think hearing it from you might be... I don't know.''

''You mean my glorious brother?'' Damon asked. ''Oh, he's back. Thank you, for that.''

''I'm sorry.''

''What?'' he shot. ''You don't think I want my brother back?''

''Of course I do,'' I frowned. ''But I'm still sorry.''

''You don't know shit.''

''Of course I don't.''

He threw me a glare and I knew not to push him.

''So you got an old lady and I got one of my vindictive murder victims?'' he said, after a while of silence.

''Say that again?''

Damon pointed at the photos in my lap. ''You remember Mason Lockwood?'' I nodded, recognising the name. ''He led us to those. And... supposedly a weapon to kill Klaus.''

''I thought Klaus had gone?''

''Sure, but don't you think he'll be wicked upset when he finds out his puppet isn't his puppet anymore? Don't you think he'll use any means necessary to find out why?''

I looked down at the photos. A stone wall, covered in symbols. Each picture, different symbols. ''You're saying these symbols could get you a weapon?''

''If the wolf was honest, then yeah.''

I sat in silence for a while, studying every line before my eyes.

''Why was he vindictive?'' I asked, eyes flickering from the photos to Damon, who suddenly looked uncomfortable.

''I thought you wouldn't want to help kill someone,'' Damon said, avoiding my gaze.

I ignored his comment and asked again. Damon ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Just when I thought he'd pulled back and was ready to get up and leave, he looked me in the eyes.

''I might've killed him.''

I raised a brow. ''You might've killed him?''

Damon threw his hands in the air. ''Fine, I killed him. And maybe I regret it. A little. Not so much.''

''Why?''

I don't know what Damon saw in my eyes just then, but his face relaxed and the scowl that had creeped onto his softened.

''I guess... I guess I was angry.''

''Ever tried taking one of those classes?''

''Hilarious.''

I smiled softly. ''Sorry. You regret it. That's what's important now.''

Damon huffed. I flipped through the pictures in silence.

''She had to have been supernatural, you know.''

I looked up at him.

''Only supernaturals would've come through that door,'' he explained. ''So maybe you're right. She could be your great-great-great-grandmother or something.''

''But she also had to have had unfinished business, right?'' I asked.

''Yeah.'' Damon shrugged. ''Maybe she wanted to tell you some family secret or something.''

''Yeah,'' I echoed, thinking. Maybe she wanted to tell me all about my powers. Even with my mother, no one else I knew of was like me. Maybe her unfinished business was to fill me in on everything I had no one else to tell me about. Or maybe... she wanted to warn me. Those were the only two options that made somewhat sense.

''Your mum's coming,'' Damon said suddenly, and he was right. Seconds later my mother stood in the hallway smiling at us.

''I'm fixing up some oatmeal,'' she said. ''Would you like something, Damon?''

''Thanks, Janine, I'm good,'' Damon replied with a charming smile.

''I'll bring it in in a couple of minutes, honey. Okay?''

I mustered up a small smile. ''Okay.''

When she was gone Damon was staring at me.

''What?'' I asked.

''Don't you ever get tired?''

''Of what?''

''Trying to please everyone,'' he said.

''I'm not-'' I paused. ''I'm not trying to please everyone. She's worried. I haven't exactly... I haven't been eating well.''

''Sure,'' he said, ''but you'll get back to that in no time. I mean what you always do. You're always trying to make everyone their best selves and what not.''

''I don't know – I can't really help it.''

''What, so your mumbo jumbo power is forcing you to be a unicorn princess throwing sparkles around her wherever she goes to make everyone happy?''

''Thank you, for the reminder,'' I said, and added in a whisper, ''I already know I'm forcing people.''

When I looked up from my hands I saw him looking at me, eyebrows raised in question. With a sigh, shoulders slumped and shame spreading through me, I continued.

''You ever wonder why you find it so easy to talk to me?''

''Well, you haven't got the most unfortunate face,'' Damon replied with a wink.

''I'm serious.''

The smile on his face faded, and the glimmer in his eyes turned into... something else.

''You don't judge,'' he said quietly.

I smiled. ''Well... that's me, though, isn't it? The other part, the whatever-it-is that makes me so... approachable or whatever, that's what forcing people.''

''That's you, too,'' he pointed out.

''So you don't separate your...'' I struggled for the right word, ''your... vampirism, from yourself?''

''I think your case is a bit more complicated.''

''If you say so.''

''I'm serious,'' he said.

The sound of clattering porcelain from the kitchen signaled me that Mum would be coming through with my lunch. Damon still didn't get up.

''You're staying?''

He shrugged, and replied with a smirk: ''I've gotta make a good impression, right?''

I shook my head, almost letting out a laugh which caught me completely by surprise. It felt foreign, like I hadn't laughed in years. Strange, how such a small almost-thing could give someone hope, even if it was just a little bit.

That night I had another attack. I didn't even see it coming until I had my knees up to my chest, crying. Next thing I knew I was shaking uncontrollably.

I relaxed my hand. On my palm were little red half moons, where my nails had dug in, surprisingly not drawing blood. Slowly, I moved my fingers and gently pressed the nails against the marked skin.

My hands. Somehow, it always came down to my hands, whenever I thought about my power. Maybe I shouldn't call it that. No, I should. I won't be weak. My eyes stung from all the crying. ''I'm not weak,'' I whispered to myself. ''I'm not weak.'' The same words flowed out of my mouth over and over, faster and faster, until maybe all they did was make my heart beat harder.

I went on for I don't know how long. Then I stopped. Inhaled. Exhaled. In through the nose and out the mouth.

Power. Not weakness.

Inhale.

Power.

Exhale.