Seventeen days.

Seventeen days of waking up in a cold sweat from nightmares. Seventeen days of jumping every time someone caught her off guard. Seventeen days of constantly looking over her shoulder.

The marks had faded from her body, but not from her soul.

Kensie had refused to speak of the party's events with anyone since that night. True to his word, Damon hadn't pushed the matter, but she could still feel the weight of his unspoken questions. He wanted to know who had hurt her, exactly what that individual had done to hurt her, and he wanted to make that person pay. There was no way Kensie could live with the knowledge that she had even indirectly caused someone's death, no matter who it was. All she wanted was to put the whole experience behind her, but she couldn't forget.

Morgan didn't know, at least. Kensie was grateful for this, because she couldn't have dealt with her friend's inevitable guilt on top of everything else, but it was still surprising. Kensie knew she wasn't exactly the life of the party these days. If the other girl had noticed a change in Kensie's behavior, she hadn't mentioned it.

Having woken twice from the same nightmare just hours earlier, Kensie was exhausted. She'd much rather have stayed home in bed, but she hadn't thought Damon would agree to it. She rubbed her eyes, careful not to smudge any of her makeup, and closed her locker. Turning, she took two steps toward her first period class before freezing, her breath catching in her throat. At the other end of the hallway, she saw a face she'd hoped never to see again.

It was him.

How had she not known he attended this school? She hadn't recognized him at the party, and had assumed he was in college. He certainly looked old enough to be in college.

It didn't matter what he was doing there. She couldn't move her feet even one more inch towards her class, towards him. Still holding her breath, Kensie spun on the spot, hoping to disappear in the crowd of students headed toward their classes. Leaving school wasn't an option, and she doubted she could just walk off campus without catching someone's attention. She briefly considered the girls' restroom, but anyone could walk in. Her eyes settled on a single-person restroom. Walking as quickly as she could without attracting unwanted attention, Kensie made a beeline for the restroom. Stepping inside, she locked the door, let her backpack fall to the floor, and pressed her back against the nearest wall. She gasped for air, finally allowing herself to breathe. Staring at the door, Kensie muttered a soft incantation to ensure no one would enter without her consent.

She slid down the wall to the floor, continuing to gasp for air as unbidden emotions overtook her.

Damon set his cell phone on the kitchen table with more force than necessary. He'd just received a phone call from Mystic Falls High informing him that Kensie hadn't been present in any of her classes that day. The last period would be over soon, and Damon had zero idea where his kid was. He'd watched her get on the school bus that morning, so she had to have at least made it to the campus that morning, but it didn't explain where she'd been since the bus dropped her off at school.

It wasn't the first time Kensie had skipped one or more classes, but it had been a few years, and Damon had felt assured that he'd made his displeasure over her failure to go to class abundantly clear that first time. It had been a rough couple of weeks since the ill-fated party, and while Kensie hadn't spoken of it since that night, Damon knew the kid was struggling. He couldn't force her to talk to him, as much as he wanted to. As it was, he had planned on giving Kensie another week before insisting she see a therapist.

Considering the circumstances, Damon felt conflicted. On one hand, Kensie knew the consequences of skipping school. On the other hand, for all Damon knew Kensie could have been taken against her will or could've been hurt through no fault of her own.

He needed to find her.

"What's wrong?" Caroline questioned as she made a beeline for the fridge. She'd made it a point to spend more time at the house since the party, something Damon appreciated. Kensie hadn't opened up to Caroline any more than she had to Damon, but the kid trusted Caroline, and Damon liked knowing Kensie had extra support in case she decided to talk.

"School called," Damon said with a frustrated huff. "Kensie has been absent from all of her classes."

Caroline froze, one hand grasping the fridge door handle. Her snack forgotten, she spun on the spot. "What?"

"No one has seen her all day, and now I have no f-ing idea where she is."

"Breathe," Caroline said soothingly. "Try calling her cell phone. In the meantime, I'm sure Bonnie can perform a tracking spell. We'll find her."

Nearly an hour later, Damon pulled into a parking spot in front of Mystic Falls High School. His calls (he'd tried every ten minutes) had all gone to voice mail, but Bonnie had ascertained that Kensie was at the school. Damon still wasn't sure he believed it; if she was at school, why hadn't she been in any of her classes? The buses had already left to take kids home for the day, so it didn't appear that Kensie had snuck back on campus to catch the bus home.

As he turned off the ignition, Damon felt a hand on his arm.

"Wait," Caroline said from the passenger seat, her hand stilling Damon. "Let me find Kensie."

"No."

She sighed. "Damon, you're wearing your 'scary Dad face' right now. That's the last thing she needs to see right now, regardless of her reason for skipping class. Let me find her while you take a few minutes to cool down."

"Has anyone told you you're annoying?" Damon asked with a huff as he settled back in his seat.

Caroline arched an eyebrow. "Has anyone told you you're an ass?" she countered, though her tone made it clear she was teasing. "Relax. I'll text you when I find her."

Kensie felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Probably Damon again, she thought to herself as she fished it out. She'd lost count of how many times he'd called her over the past hour. It felt like ages since the final bell had rung, but Kensie couldn't bring herself to answer Damon's calls or even to leave the sanctuary of the bathroom. She was sure Damon knew she hadn't been in any of her classes and was probably pissed. Though she didn't blame him, she didn't have it in her to deal with his ire.

A quick glance at the caller ID, however, revealed a different caller. There was a chance that it was Damon, using someone else's phone to try to reach her, but somehow Kensie didn't think that person would go for it. Taking a small calming breath, Kensie pressed the green button to accept the call.

"Caroline?" she whispered.

Kensie could hear a sigh of relief over the phone. "Where are you, Kensie?"

"I'm at school…" she told Caroline.

Another sigh came through the phone, this time more exasperated than relieved. "I know that. Where in the school are you?"

Kensie chewed on her lip. Caroline hadn't mentioned Damon so far, but Kensie imagined he had to be with her. She wasn't sure she really wanted to know, but she felt compelled to ask anyway. "Is… is Damon mad?"

"He's worried," clarified Caroline, "but he's in the car. I'm in the hallway just outside the front office. Where are you?"

At least she wouldn't have to face him right away, she thought. It was a small comfort. "First floor bathroom, history building."

Kensie waited silently as Caroline made her way to the history building. The young woman hadn't ended the call, and Kensie was grateful for that. Knowing Caroline was just on the other end of the line filled Kensie with a bit of relief.

Just over two minutes later, Kensie saw the door wiggle as someone tried to pull it open. Almost immediately, she heard a soft knock on the door. "Kensie?"

Releasing the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, Kensie dropped the protection spells she'd cast that morning and pushed herself up off the floor, lifting her backpack over her shoulder. She unlocked the door and, at the older girl's concerned face, promptly threw her arms around Caroline. "I'm so glad to see you!" she whispered, fighting not to burst into tears right there on the spot.

Surprised, Caroline held Kensie for a few moments, patting her back comfortingly. Before long, she pulled back so she could see the kid's face. "What were you doing locked in a bathroom, Kensie?"

Kensie shook her head and took a deep breath to steady herself. "I-I don't want to talk about it."

"You know Damon's not going to accept that answer this time, Kensie, don't you?"

The younger teen tensed. "You said he wasn't mad."

"He isn't," Caroline insisted. "Like I said, he's worried about you. He's also frustrated that you weren't in any of your classes today." Caroline froze, as if an idea had just occurred to her. She frowned at the thought. "Kensie, exactly how long were you in that bathroom?"

"I just want to go home now," Kensie evaded as she took a step back.

"Kensie."

"I'm sure Damon's getting impatient." Kensie reached up with one hand to hold her backpack strap in place and headed for the exit.

"Hey."

A hand wrapped around Kensie's arm. Despite hearing the familiar, trusted voice, Kensie jumped at the touch.

Caroline took the opportunity to step in front Kensie, blocking the girl's path. It wasn't entirely a surprise that she'd startled the teen, even though they were the only two in the hallway, but it was still concerning. Caroline decided to chalk it up to the attack that Kensie had yet to talk about with anyone. She studied Kensie's face intently. "You were in there all day, weren't you?"

"Please, Caroline."

Caroline felt the whispered plea tug at her heart. She couldn't understand why Kensie wouldn't tell her what was going on, especially when she knew that talking about it would undoubtedly help smooth things over with Damon. Whatever Kensie's reasons for missing her classes, Caroline was sure that it was more than just not feeling like going to class.

"Okay," relented Caroline. "Damon's car is out in front of the school."

Relieved that she wouldn't be pushed to talk right away, Kensie resumed her trek out to the parking lot. Unsurprisingly, as she walked out through the main doors, she spied Damon standing beside his car. He seemed to notice her at the same time, but he waited for her to cross the parking lot at her human pace.

It was only when she was less than ten feet away that Damon took several steps forward to meet Kensie before she could reach the car, pulling her into a hug without a word.

The reaction caught Kensie off guard, but she only froze a moment before wrapping her arms around Damon's torso. Even if he was likely pissed at her, Kensie craved the comfort. "I'm sorry," she murmured, eyes closed. "I know you're really upset with me, but I'm begging you, please don't swat me here in the parking lot."

Damon was surprised by Kensie's words. Apparently she was already anticipating his displeasure, even though he had no idea why she'd skipped every class. While he might have considered applying a swat or two in public back when she was twelve, had the situation called for it, he wouldn't dream of doing such a thing now that she was in high school.

Damon rubbed his child's back briefly before pulling back so he could see her face. "I wouldn't do that," he assured her, his voice calm. "Are you at all hurt?"

"No."

He caught no hint of dishonesty in her eyes or her voice, to his great relief. "All right. Let's go home."

Kensie slid into the back seat, figuring Caroline might want to sit in the front beside Damon. She'd also have the chance to come up with an explanation for Damon for her behavior. He would expect as much, even though she was convinced it wouldn't change the outcome.

She spent the ride back to the boarding house staring out the window at the passing scenery, oblivious to Caroline's stares from the front passenger seat or Damon's concerned glances in the rearview mirror. She couldn't even muster the energy to come up with something to tell Damon. No, it had occurred to her rather quickly that, if he actually attended Mystic Falls High, it was possible she could see him again tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after. Regardless of how Damon reacted today, there was no way she could skip two days in a row.

What was she going to do?

The car stopped and the engine turned off, snapping Kensie from her reverie. Without a word to the others she opened her door and lifted her backpack over her shoulder as she headed into the house. Straight up to her room she went, and she closed the door softly behind her before depositing her backpack on her desk and moving to her bed. She chose the spot directly in the middle, right up against the headboard, and promptly pulled her knees to her chest, allowing her eyes to close as she leaned one cheek against her knees.

Damon couldn't believe his eyes as he watched the kid wordlessly walk into the house. This wasn't the behavior of a teen who had tried to skip school and, now caught, wanted to weasel out of the consequences. It was almost as if Kensie had given up.

Her behavior had been different ever since that party, but even so, Damon could see something was seriously wrong.

He held the door open for Caroline as they walked inside the house. "Did she tell you anything?" he asked in a low voice, just in case Kensie was within earshot. He doubted it – from what he'd heard outside, the kid had headed straight for her room – but a little caution wouldn't hurt.

Caroline shook her head. "Not really. I found her locked in one of the bathrooms in the history building. She had locked the door herself," Caroline rushed to add at the dangerous expression on Damon's face. "She was more concerned about your reaction than telling me what she was doing in there, and she wouldn't confirm my suspicions, but Damon, I think she spent all day in there."

Damon blinked, sure he'd misheard Caroline. "What? Why would she spend all day in a bathroom?" His first thought might have been that the kid was feeling ill, but Kensie would have no reason to hide that from Damon. The handful of times Kensie had felt under the weather since coming to live with Damon, she'd been allowed to stay home (or come home early) so she could rest and recuperate.

"I don't know, Damon. Every time I tried to pry for more information, she hedged my questions."

He rubbed a hand over his face, frustrated. "How am I supposed to discipline her for this when I can't even make sense of what she was thinking?"

"Maybe you don't," Caroline said gently, lifting one shoulder in a casual shrug. "If she'd just wanted to skip school for the day, why would she have stayed at school? You know as well as I do that this isn't like her at all."

Damon nodded both in understanding and in agreement. "She hasn't been the same since that damn party."

Caroline didn't disagree with that assessment.

Blowing out a large breath, Damon nodded towards the top of the stairs. "I'm going to go talk to her. Do you mind sticking around for a bit, in case she needs someone other than me to talk to?"

"Sure."

He ascended the stairs at a human pace, taking the extra few moments to try to breathe out some of the tension in his chest. Damon really hoped he wouldn't have to be the disciplinarian today; not when his kid had been so out of sorts the past few weeks. It was a job he loathed on the best of days, but in this instance, Damon wasn't sure his heart could take it.

He found her on her bed, back pressed against the headboard, knees drawn to her chest. It was a protective stance, though Damon wasn't sure who Kensie was trying to protect herself from – him or someone else.

"All right, kiddo." Letting out another soft sigh, Damon pulled out Kensie's desk chair and turned it around so he could take a seat. His elbows rested on his knees as he clasped his hands together and leaned forward a bit. He was pleased to see that he had her attention for the moment. "You know the consequence of skipping school. If you don't want to go down that road, I need you to talk to me."

Kensie appreciated that Damon hadn't raised his voice since he and Caroline had picked her up after school and that even now, he wasn't jumping straight into a stern lecture. It was enough knowing that he had to be disappointed in her. She was certain she couldn't handle hearing it in his voice, too. "Would it make a difference?" she asked softly.

"Yes," Damon said in a firm tone. "Do you think I haven't noticed a difference in you since that party, Mackenzie Grace?" She winced a bit at the use of both names, even if they weren't said in scolding. "That you've been walking around with circles under your eyes because you're not sleeping well? That you're constantly looking over your shoulder?" He paused, hoping she might provide some insight, but Damon was only greeted with silence.

"I have a couple of questions for you," Damon continued after a moment. "I want the complete truth in response to those questions – no half-truths, no omissions. Understood?"

She didn't respond at first, but Damon maintained eye contact, waiting patiently. After several tense moments, he caught her nearly imperceptible nod.

"Good," he praised. "Caroline told me downstairs that she'd found you in a bathroom at school. Did you spend all day in that bathroom?"

Kensie didn't want to answer the same question Caroline had asked her less than an hour earlier, especially when she'd avoided answering it the first time, but Damon had said he wanted the complete truth, and he likely already suspected it was true. "Yes."

"Why did you spend all day in the bathroom, Kensie?"

No. She most definitely did not want to answer that question. "Damon…" she whined in a soft voice that made her sound years younger.

Damon crooked one finger at Kensie, motioning her to him. He watched her frown deepen, and she seemed to contemplate whether or not to comply before she straightened out her legs and scooted over to the edge of the bed. He reached out to rest two fingers just under her chin, ensuring he had her undivided attention. "The complete truth," he reminded her firmly.

Kensie tried to swallow down the lump that had formed in her throat. She hadn't wanted to talk about the party. She'd just wanted to forget about it, even though her mind wouldn't allow her to do so. How would Damon react to knowing the full truth? Would he fly into a rage and kill the boy? Would he be mad at her for not saying something before? Would he somehow think it was her fault she'd ended up in that situation in the first place? He'd been adamant before that being hurt wasn't her fault, even though she wasn't supposed to be at the party, but he hadn't known everything then.

"Damon," she whispered pleadingly.

"The complete truth."

She moved to stare at her lap, but Damon's fingers were right back under her chin, lifting it up, giving her nowhere else to look.

"Mackenzie."

Her voice was so small, it took Damon's vampire hearing just to catch her words. "I saw him."

Damon was certain he knew exactly who Kensie meant, but he wanted to hear it from her. "Who did you see, Kensie?"

She knew what he wanted, but Kensie couldn't form the words on her tongue. Panic grew in her chest as her eyes darted from one side to the other, desperate for an escape. Damon wasn't going to let her just ignore the question, and she couldn't seem to make her voice work all of a sudden.

Desperation can spark ideas that wouldn't otherwise appear. Before she could lose her nerve, Kensie wrapped a hand around Damon's wrist, the one currently propping up her chin, and closed her eyes in concentration.

Damon opened his mouth to speak when images began flying through his mind. He had to focus on what he was seeing, as they seemed to be spinning on a reel – an older teenage boy chatting amiably – the same teenage boy trying to kiss him – Damon realized with a jolt that he was seeing Kensie's memories. Considering the speed at which they were moving, Damon imagined Kensie was trying not to dwell on them any more than she had to.

Kensie pushed the boy away, but he tried to kiss her again. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. His hands moved uninvited over her body, fingers digging into her arms when she tried to push him away again. He managed to overpower her enough to push her onto the bed, one hand pinning her wrists together as the other moved to the button of her jeans.

Suddenly, the boy was on the ground, and Kensie was in the hallway of the unfamiliar house, pushing frantically into the first bathroom she found.

Just like that, Damon was back in Kensie's bedroom. He wasn't sure whether to throw up or to fly into a rage, but before he had the chance to react one way or another, he felt a body sag against him. He just managed to catch Kensie before she crumpled to the floor.

At once, he lifted the sobbing girl into his arms, moving to the large armchair and pulling her onto his lap. As she curled against him, heart-wrenching sobs shaking her body, Damon wrapped his arms tightly around her and rested his temple against the top of her head. He made soothing sounds but didn't speak; he didn't think she'd hear anything he had to say just then, and what she needed most was comfort and to feel safe. He could accomplish both without words.

That little shit had tried to rape Kensie. If it hadn't been for Kensie's magic, Damon had no doubt that the boy would have succeeded. Damon couldn't truly understand everything Kensie was going through, not without having had firsthand experience himself, but now her behavior made perfect sense. The poor kid had probably been living in terror since that night, frightened that the boy would catch up with her and hurt her again.

At some point – Damon hadn't kept track of how much time had passed – the door opened just enough for Caroline to poke her head into the room. From the concern in Caroline's eyes, Damon surmised he must have been sitting there for more than a couple of minutes. He mouthed the words 'I'll tell you later', attempting a smile at Caroline's nod of understanding.

The door closed once more, and Damon shifted a bit to find a more comfortable position. Kensie's hands clung to his shoulders, digging into his skin in a way that would have hurt had he been human. "I'm not going anywhere," he murmured in her ear as he rubbed her back. "You are safe, Kensie."

Sometime later, Kensie awoke in her bed. Her memory felt hazy, though she vaguely remembered being in Damon's lap at one point. She clearly wasn't there now as she stared at the ceiling through puffy, blurry eyes. For reasons she couldn't quite explain at the moment, panic started to rise in her chest. She felt like she couldn't breathe.

Then, something both strong and gentle squeezed her hand.

Forcing herself to take a breath, Kensie tilted her head until Damon's face came into view. He was sitting in her armchair, which had been moved closer to her bed at some point. "I'm sorry," was all she could croak out, her throat feeling raw and dry. She reached a hand up to rub some of the blurriness from her eyes.

A tender hand cupped her face. "You have nothing to apologize for, Mackenzie Paige." His voice was just as gentle, and Kensie couldn't quite understand why he was being so calm.

"I-I skipped s-s-school," she reminded him as if he'd somehow forgotten.

"I know. You aren't in trouble."

His words confused her. "B-b-but l-last t-t-t-time…"

The hand that had cupped her face moved to smooth back her hair. Her response didn't make sense. Damon wondered if somehow her memory had been affected; it had to have taken her a strong burst of magic to show him what she did, even if it hadn't led to a nosebleed or an immediate loss of consciousness. "What do you remember, Kensie?"

"I…" Blinking, Kensie tried to push past the haze. She remembered the car ride home… going to her room… Damon coming in to talk… "Oh…" she exhaled, the details beginning to clear up. Tentatively she pressed a finger beneath her nose, but she didn't feel any blood. "How long was I unconscious?"

"You were asleep for a couple of hours," Damon told her. "That was some impressive magic, Kensie, but you didn't pass out from overextending yourself. I think you just wore yourself out after you finally let out some of what you've been feeling."

"Y-you're really not mad?"

"I am absolutely livid," Damon told her honestly. "However, none of that anger is directed towards you."

She'd been afraid of that. "What are you going to do?"

Damon squeezed Kensie's hand, hoping it would provide her some comfort. "Tomorrow morning, I'm going to take you to the police station and we're going to file an official report." He watched Kensie open her mouth, presumably to object, and quickly cut her off before she could say anything. "This isn't optional, Mackenzie Paige, any more than was going to the hospital that night. You need to know that this boy isn't going to hurt you again, and other than killing him, the only way to do that is to tell the police what he did."

"They aren't going to believe me," Kensie argued softly. "I don't even know his name."

"The hospital collected evidence that night, remember? That's proof of what he did, Kensie."

She shook her head. "I don't want to."

"I know, kiddo," Damon said, a tinge of sadness in his voice. "Like I said, it isn't optional."

Kensie knew he meant it. It wouldn't matter how much she begged, pleaded, cried, or screamed; Damon was going to make her file a police report, just as he'd made her go to the hospital that first night. Having to talk to strangers about what had happened scared her; one of her biggest fears was that they'd blame her for what happened.

Closing her eyes, she rubbed her forehead, wishing the increasing pain and pressure in her head would disappear.

"Does your head hurt?"

"Mhmm," she replied without opening her eyes.

"I'll get you a cool cloth and some Tylenol. Do you want to stay up here and rest some more, or would you like to come downstairs?"

It didn't matter to Kensie, so long as she wasn't alone. "I want to stay with you," she admitted, certain she sounded like a toddler just then.

"You've got it, kiddo." Pushing himself to his feet, he held out a hand to help Kensie up.

She took a moment to catch her bearings, but then Kensie wrapped her arms around Damon, catching him temporarily off guard.

"I meant what I said before," he told her softly as he gave her a gentle squeeze. "You are safe."

Kensie let out a little sigh. "Thank you," she breathed.