Saving The Found...(Final Journey:Based off The Vampire Diaries Books & TV Show)

THREE |Survival|

Stefan
It is another one of those days, one like every other day that I've lived through. The sad reality is that I may never escape these dreadful, mundane days. Kat and I have only spoken a few times over these past months. I think we both are still mourning over the loss of Elyssa. Katherine lost her two best friends, Ronnie as well. I remember what it was like on the other side, how Ronnie and I truly believed we were trapped, she helped me get along... survive. I still remember walking through the door that night, just after we had made it back from limbo. Her face was masked in pain, you could see the dim light in her pale blue eyes.

It's as if this town is cursed but then again it could very well be me. It seems that everywhere I go I bring upon death and misery. More frequently, however I have been visiting Damon in the Salvatore mausoleum. Everytime I go there I expect to feel closer to moving on with my life, but instead I leave there feeling lonely.

Like right now. I trace the lines on the stone where Damon's name was carved.

Domenico Damien Salvatore

And right above that was my name.

Stefano Giuseppe Salvatore II

The only difference between us now was the fact that there was still hope for my return to Mystic Falls. Damon is simply gone, Ayble made sure of that. Speaking of that witch, she is nowhere to be found. For days and nights I have searched for any lead, but there never are any. Part of me is happy, because I don't want to kill someone I once loved, someone I still care for. Then I think about Damon and all thoughts of mercy run scared from my mind.

I wonder if Elyssa ever found Damon, or if she died for nothing. I have hope though,or I try to at least.

I'm beginning to miss the small things about Damon. Like for instance, the ever so slight english accent Damon still has from when he had lived in England when he was little. I miss him more everyday, and slowly my mind is losing touch of the memories we shared together. I wonder where he is, truly hoping he is happy.

There was a slight breeze coming through the door. A mingled scent of flowers and cologne swept through the empty space, crowding my heightened scenes.

Not much to my surprise Alaric walks into the capacious building holding dead family members. Next to me is a bottle of bourbon that Alaric immediately notices.
"Stefan..." he said. I stood up and ran into his arms. His embrace soothed the nerves in my body. His warmth made me feel less empty.

Alaric, who has been my friend ever since he became a history teacher at Elyssa's school, left town for the summer. I wrote to him, and told him about Damon, and Elyssa. I never knew why he hadn't come to Elyssa's funeral... but I did understand.

I couldn't carry the overflowing bottled up tears anymore. They flowed from my red eyes onto Alaric's shirt as he held me tight.

"I am..." Alaric choked on his tears, "So sorry you had to go through this alone Stefan." I nodded, not wanting him to let go. I felt less lonely with him beside me. Katherine barely speaks to me, I think she believes what happened to Elyssa was my fault. I don't blame her, because I believe that same thought.

As all good things must come to an end, Alaric let go of me.

"How are you doing?" He asked, wiping away at his tears.

"Not so good." I said.

Alaric took the bottle of bourbon and took a quick swig from it before sitting down next to me, right in front of Damon and I's names.  Ric looked at my name.

"You still haven't gotten that removed?" He looked thoughtfully at me. I looked at the name once more, remembering who that person was. The son of Stefano Giuseppe Salvatore who was born from Royal Blood. I looked down at the ring on my finger, with the Salvatore crest on it, the memory from when I received  it resurfaced.

Rome, Italy 1

"Stefan, come here." My father yelled to me from the parlor. I did as he asked, and walked down the steps into the dimly lit parlor. This was my favorite room. Candles were placed on every piece of furniture, and were always burning.

I sat next to my father, in the patterned chair next to his in which he would sit in to write and read everyday.

"As you know, Damon received a ring when he came of age. I now give you a ring as well, for you now have come of age." He placed a ruby red, slightly bulky ring on the palm of my hand. I watched in awe as it gleamed brightly. The Salvatore family crest was engraved intricately, and meticulously on the front of the ring. In a small, delicate handwriting were the words "Te Amo Stefano" inscribed on the inside of the ring. I smiled brightly and placed it on my finger.

    "Why thank you father. It is beautiful." He smiled at me, exposing the wrinkles and lines on his face that were always hidden away.

    "You wear this ring with pride, my son. I will love you always, even in death." My father was not one to say these things to me on normal occasion. He treated me as an adult, and expected me to make adult decisions at a young age. He expected me to respect him, not to love him.

    My father, with great difficulty stood from his chair. He wrapped his arms around me tightly. I breathed in the fresh scent of basil that always accompanied my father wherever he went.

The Present

    I promised myself, when my father was still alive that I would not forget that scent he wore. But after five hundred years, the promise was broken. Thinking back on the memory I became reminded of how foolish I used to be. All the little moments were not cherished, and I think that is my deepest regret.

    "No, It's a good reminder to me." I answered after a while.
       
        Ric looked at me with his green eyes, they matched mine perfectly, as if they were made for eachother. I could feel the wind pick up again, drifting through the open door, and blowing Alaric's hair upward. He remained still completely unbothered.

    "A reminder of what?"

    "That I survived."