His throat felt tight and his stomach ached as he looked regretfully up at the midnight black sky, his face tilted upward toward the new moon, his lips pinched with hatred and sadness. It felt as though lead balls were in his insides, weighing him down, creating more doom and stress on top of it all. If only it were so easy to turn it off, just as he'd thought it would be. Sadly, it wasn't. Not with her in his mind.

She was the one who kept popping into his head, the one who kept him sane through all this. She'd taught him that he could be more human that he'd ever thought, she was the one who told him that they'd take it one step at a time, get through it together. She held him together, in more ways than one. Her kindly, reassuring brown eyes; her silky, straight brunette hair; the smooth, tempting skin; the smile that melts his insides... Her outgoing, sincere, genuine personality kept him somewhat sane throughout these insane past months with his partner. Just the thought of her, the thought of being able to return to her, pulled him through the horrific events of these days.

When he first saw her, he was automatically attracted to her. He was intrigued, fascinated with her, with her personality, her history, her background. She was a mystery, someone to learn and to love. When she figured out he was a vampire, she came around. She argued with herself, believed in him, and finally came around to believing him. That's all that really mattered, was that she believed him. It didn't matter if she was angry; she'd get over it. It didn't matter if she was swooning; its just classic. The only thing that really mattered was that in the end, she was his. When the tomb vampires captured and tortured him, she came to his rescue; she was more than worried, she was devastated. When he drank her blood and couldn't stop, she didn't care; she loved him, and he loved her. It helped him, so it helped her. When he couldn't control himself and hid his human drinking problem from her, and she found out, she wasn't livid like he'd expect her to be; she was irritated but understanding, saddened but helpful. She came around and helped him, she stood by his side through thick and thin. She was his backbone, his strength, his weakness, and his ultimate love.

He aches to have her near him again; the longing and desperateness have eaten away at his being for the entirety of the journey. She's been in his every thought, his every action, warning him to be nice, to do goodness. But he couldn't. He had to act the bad guy's part, play along with the game, being believable. He's nothing more than a game piece in the whole of things.

With shaky fingers, he pulled his iPhone out of his black jacket's pocket, taking a deep and unsteady breath before scrolling through the contacts. Finally, his fingers came to rest on the one he'd avoided for so long. The one who'd called at least twice a day for the past two months, every day he'd been "missing" in her mind. He bit his lip with nervousness and longing as he pressed the call button.

Ring. For months, he'd meant to do this, he'd meant to, but he couldn't; he hadn't been allowed.

Ring. It hurt so much, killed a piece of him every day. Every day, he'd longed to hear her glorious voice, the voice of an angel.

Ring, ring. What is wrong? Why is she not picking up? Is she hurt or worse? His thoughts raced with desire to be there, to know what is happening.

Ringggg. His heart sinks. She's not picking up; is she ignoring him or just not available? Of all the times to miss a call...

Dismayed, he slowly removes the phone from his ear, face hardened with distraught, fist clenched with pining. He'd been so eager to her her angelic voice, imagine what she could be up to, learn of the things happening in her life, see how she's fairing. But how could he have thought, hoped, that she'd answer? He left her. It couldn't be easy; why would she want to keep in touch with him at all, after what he's done? Disgusted with himself, he squints his eyes angrily, frustrated and confused, when the unbelievable happens.

A voice speaks, streaming out from the phone with velvetiness and sounding lovelier, more beautiful, than ever before.

"Hello? ...Hello?" His Elena speaks, her voice capturing him in her net of wonder and glamor like a butterfly in a cocoon. She's his home, his love.

A pause as she puts together one and one in her mind, coming up with the answer, "Stefan?" Elena whispers in awe, just as aware of the dangers of this as he is.

On her side of the phone call, she slowly blinks a few times, glad to know that he's out there somewhere, that he hasn't yet fully forgotten about her. Elena speaks softly, and very sadly, as she whispers his name in thankfulness.

"Stefan, if that's you, you'll be okay. I promise." He nods very quietly, tears on the verge of spilling, his lips pressed together stubbornly as he tries his best to hold back those agonizing sobs that take over the body. He holds strong, tries to keep it together, for her. She's his glue, he should be hers.

He thinks about saying happy birthday, just so that she does know that its him, but he cannot make his mouth do what he wants, because his mind is telling him not to, that its too dangerous. And with Klaus just inside the country bar that he stands in front of, it is too dangerous to do anything but nod, no matter how much he wants it. It feels as though the world is crumbling apart from both their ends; they miss each other with all of their hearts; they're both breaking, cracking. And soon enough, one or the other won't be able to deal with it anymore, and they'll go to the ends of the earth to find each other.

"I love you, Stefan. Hold onto that. Never let that go."

Her voice penetrates deep into his heart, biting away at his guilt, replenishing his ability to live on with this destruction of life just to get back to his one and only love.

If only he could hold her slender body, cradle her and tell her that everything was alright. Alas, it was not, and he would not have the chance to do that for a long while. Tears began to flow down his cheeks, silently but forcefully.

On the other end of the line, Elena was breaking down, not able to hold it together anymore. She wanted to hear Stefan so badly, just to know that it was him she had been talking to.

"Stefan? Please talk. Just say something. Anything." Elena whispered almost inaudibly as she allowed the liquid sadness to run down her fragile cheeks, dampening them.

Stefan bites the inside of his cheek, knowing that if he says one thing, he probably won't be able to hold the rest of his feelings back. But it doesn't matter; he needs to speak with her, to tell her its alright, to comfort and love her for eternity...

"Elena," He hears her sigh in contentedness on the other end as he brokenly says, "I love you. Happy birthday."

He stops himself from talking anymore, sure that he'll spill his location and get himself in trouble with Klaus, probably killed. He was supposed to have taken care of Damon by now after all, and if he spilled his location to stubborn Elena, she's sure to drive after him the second she knows where he is, and attempt to fight Klaus herself, getting killed in the process.

He could just image her in her bedroom right now, fluttering her eyelashes quietly as she tries to hold back her hardest emotions, trying to control herself in front of him. She would be smiling a small little grin, hers eyes alight as she heard his voice for the first time in months. She would be ecstatic that he's alive, wishing fiercely that he would come home to her soon. She'd be her perfect self.

She happily smiles and says, "Thanks, Stefan. Honestly, this is the best birthday present yet. You are the best present that I've ever gotten."

"You're welcome, and thanks. You're the best I've ever gotten..." He replies timidly but still overjoyed. His voice wavers as he grows serious, "How's Damon treating you?"

"Oh. Good. Considering all of the possibilities, he's being a perfect gentleman." Elena answers, playing absentmindedly with her hair, twisting it around her finger as she waits for his next response. The subject currently was a sketchy, unreliable and unpredictable one that she didn't want to travel too far into tonight. She didn't want to worry Stefan, because, honestly, there wasn't much he could do in this situation.

In the pitch blackness of the night, Stefan sighs, wishing that he could be in his brother's place, but glad that he's being decent to Elena, "Elena, there is no such thing as a perfect gentleman," He laughs without humor, and then says, trying to change the topic, "How was your birthday?"

Elena grins, thinking of Caroline's crazy party, and answers with complete honesty, "Now, it is almost the best ever. Although Care's party sure was something I hadn't expected. She says she's keeping it small, and then half the town shows up!"

"Almost the best? Was it better when..." Stefan asks, implying what he's not sure whether he should say or not.

"Yes, it was better when my parents were here. It felt more real, you know? But the best would have been if you were here," She admits sadly, wiping away a tear at the corner of her eye with her red pajama shirt sleeve.

"I miss you, Elena, so badly," Stefan says, "I love you."

"I love you too. Come home soon, okay?"

His throat closes up with tears, making his words come out very softly, "I will. As soon as I can. That's a promise."

Elena hesitates, then says, "Wait! I know that it's dangerous, but, well, I can't help but worrying about you. So many questions have run through my mind, every day for the past two months. How are you doing? How far have you traveled? Are you homesick at all? Do you miss me as much as I miss you? And... where are you, Stefan?"

Stefan swallows painfully, his eyebrows drawn together in a contradictory arc. He longs to answer every one of her questions, for his and her benefit, but he's bound by a code, stronger than ever before. If he breaks it, it means death for them all.

"Goodbye, Elena," Is all he says. Then, lifting the phone from his ear, he snaps it shut. It closes with a dull ringing sound that goes into the night sky. He keeps staring up into the sky as he pushes away any emotions.

When he goes into the bar again, he can't have Klaus suspecting anything; he has to be perfectly poker-faced. Swallowing his tears with some finality, he puts all of his feelings in a locked box in the far far corner of his mind, not knowing the next time he'll be able to open them again. And with those feelings, he puts away Elena. The girl he loves, the one he cares for. He puts her away for another time, for her own good.

Although he hates it, knows that he can't live with it, this is his life now, and there's no room for love in it. Not if he wants to survive. Maybe someday, sometime in the future, he'll have the chance to be with her again. Hopefully.

But for now, he shuts her out. Out of his feelings. Out of his emotions. Out of his life.

His hand slips his iPhone back into his jacket pocket, and walks over to the nearest light post. The luminescent light shines down upon the sidewalk, ruining the natural beauty of the stars, creating a fake and unnatural world amongst them. That's what he's living in; a fake world.

Angry and hurt, Stefan punches the light post, creating a dent in it. Why can't he just talk to Elena? Why does Klaus forbid it? He's doing all of what Klaus asks; why can't he just have this one thing in return?

With more and more malice, Stefan punches the light post again and again until it falls with a heavy clanking sound. Screw that. Who cares what Klaus does now? Who cares if he heard Stefan? The town is so rural; no one will hear him besides those uncaring men in the bar.

Finally, the anger dies out of Stefan, and he drags whats left of the light post to the sidewalk.

With a heavy heart, he turns around and begins to trudge back to the bar, returning as he'd promised.

All of a sudden, a figure steps out in front of him from the shadows, the light from the bar spiraling out from behind him, showing his silhouette in the nighttime. The bulky figure takes a few steps forward, menacing steps.

After a second, Stefan's eyes adjust to the light, and then widen just slightly, hopefully enough that the figure didn't notice.

"Hello, Stefan. Mind to share your conversation with me?"

Klaus had heard. And here his is. A sinking feeling falls to the bottom of Stefan's stomach, and he knows that he's in deep, deep trouble.

~xXx~

A few minutes after Stefan had hung up on her, on her questions, at her house in Mystic Falls, Elena blindly and emotionlessly stumbled over to her bed, falling into the soft down comforter face-first. She felt tears stinging at the back of her eyes, and she waited for them to fall as she turned around so that her left side was on the bed and her face turned toward her window and the sky that showed a glowing, setting sun outside.

Once again, questions bombarded her thoughts, ruining her previous happiness. Why couldn't Stefan answer those questions? Why was he so rude when he hung up? Why couldn't he tell her where he was so that she could come find him and take them to a happily-ever-after? Why couldn't he tell her where he was so that she and the gang could form a plan and kill Klaus together? Did he not care about her enough to say a few tiny words, telling her his location? Could he not take her seriously, is that it?

She clenches her fists and punches her pillow once, twice, three times before the anger evaporates. Then she's left with an empty, hollow feeling, and she has nothing more; Elena and Damon are right back where they started before Stefan so reassuringly called.

Elena switches her position again on the white sheet, trying to get comfortable as she wipes a shaky hand across her heated forehead. She can imagine what Stefan would have looked like as he called her, but she's completely in the dark about what his surroundings could have been.

His green eyes would have been alight with enthusiasm, his perfect lips sculptured with dignity as he talked. He would have been standing with a regal position as he always does; back straight, not slouched, almost perfect as perfect can be. His hair would be wild, his eyes alert, his senses perked as usual. He would have been quick of reflex, and beyond handsome as always. He would have been his outstanding self. The man she loves; the one she desires; the Stefan that Elena longs for.

Now, the sad tears of wisdom begin to fall, dripping one by one onto her pillow, soaking into the fabric as permanent reminders of her horribly hard every-day life.

Even though the phone call from Stefan didn't tell her any details about how he's faring with the situation, or what he's doing exactly, or even where he is, it did tell Elena and Damon one thing; it was proof that Stefan was still out there, somewhere. So Elena couldn't give up hope just quite yet; no, she couldn't. She would search for him until it was her time to die; everyday, she'd scour the ends of the earth for her Stefan, and that was a promise.

I'm coming to save you, Stefan, one step at a time; for that, I can promise.

This scene from the premiere of The Vampire Diaries spoke to me; I was literally crying when I watched it, feeling soo bad for Stelena- even though I'm strictly a Delena fan- bad enough to have to feel the need to write a short Stelena one-shot. It seems like there aren't enough Stelena pieces out there anymore, and I felt the need to express their side of the story, even if it is dwindling in the eyes of the public. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it!

Review please? (: