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Thank you for all of the reviews! It puts quite a calming effect on you when you know people appreciate the things you do. Thank you for accepting me into the TVD circle.

And Erin Salvatore, thank you for your wisdom. You've helped me work my way through this maze!

Mending Forever

"Memory is a way of holding on to the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose." –from the TV series, 'The Wonder Years'

Chapter Two: Return

It was something like déjà vu. Damon knew he'd been in Mystic Falls before. After all, he'd grown up here. But it was as if his subconscious was telling him, "No, you haven't really been here. You've only seen this in your dreams." He shook his head. It'd been ten years since he had drove through the streets of his childhood home. Ten years had passed since he'd seen the square. Damon chuckled. 'No, it can't be,' he thought. But it was. The Mystic Grill still stood. He could remember the hours he had spent there. The hours he had spent there with Elena.

My God, was there anything that didn't remind him of Elena? Damon knew it was a pointless question. His entire life had revolved around Elena in some form or fashion. They had done everything together. Why wouldn't everything make him recall a memory of her?

He hadn't called his mother before he had left New York City. Damon knew she would make a big deal out of his coming back home. She would ask him a lot of questions that he wasn't so sure he was ready to answer. Besides, he'd rather give those answers in person. Then again, Damon also acknowledged that Sofia Salvatore would be highly pissed that her only child had been gone for so long.

He really couldn't blame her. Growing up, he'd had a very close relationship with his mother. After all, getting close to Giuseppe Salvatore was nearly impossible. The man was unmovable in the emotion department. The man played indifferent better than anyone Damon knew. He had always wondered why that was. His mother had told him countless times of their love story; how his father had swept her off her feet. Damon often speculated about what had happened to that romantic man. He could only guess that life had gotten in the way.

He'd never gotten the courage to ask his father either. Giuseppe Salvatore died at the age of forty-eight from a heart attack. Damon had only been seventeen. He hadn't yet graduated high school when his mother had shown up after math class to tell him the news. He'd been in such shock that it took him days to react. When he had finally reacted to it, tears had come pouring out with a vengeance. He was so angry with his father for never taking the time to get to know him. Because of that, he'd never known him either. Giuseppe had robbed him of those chances.

Damon remembered who had discovered him in the corner of his bedroom. He could clearly summon up those doe eyes that could steal your breath with a single look. Elena had bent down to his level and ran her hand through his hair. It was then that Damon had let go of the solitary feelings that his father had evoked, and let Elena in. Something had happened that night, and it wasn't until years later that Damon finally understood just what that thing was. He had always loved her. But there, in that moment, he had fallen in love with her.

He returned to reality when he noticed that he was close to the Salvatore boarding house. He turned down the drive and held his breath till the house came into view. It had that effect on people. It was so massive in size. From the outside it could almost look like a mausoleum. But inside, it was home. His mother had made it home. Giuseppe could've cared less how it looked. Actually, Damon thought if his father could've had his way, the boarding house would have probably resembled a hospital. Cold and sterile.

As he parked his rental car next to the garage, he couldn't help but to imagine how this reunion with his mother would go. She had begged him to return home. He couldn't have. But, oh, how he'd wanted to. Ten years later he couldn't help but feel the pull of guilt.

He climbed out of the car and began walking towards the front door. Damon couldn't believe that he was finally home. He took a calming breath. He stared at the enormous wooden door in front of him. He remembered looking upon this door when he was a boy. He always thought it looked so ominous, as if a monster lived on the other side of the door. His lips smirked. Well, Giuseppe Salvatore could have been considered a monster.

Damon didn't bother knocking. He just walked in like he'd done all his life. He grinned stepping through the foyer. Nothing had changed. His mother hadn't moved a thing. There were still bits of history on the wall that had been passed on through the generations of Salvatores. Portraits and paintings, priceless bits of furniture. He peeked into the one of the many sitting rooms. The library had grown. There were more books that lined the walls. That didn't surprise Damon any. His mother had always loved to read. Something he had in common with her.

Damon frowned as he went further into the house. There was no sign of his mother. Her car was out in the driveway so she had to be here. He smiled rather big once he realized there was only one room left in the house that she could be in. And it was her favorite.

He glanced around the corner to see his mom stirring something in a bowl. It was probably one of her famous desserts. Please let it be her lemon cookies. Damon could die happily if he just had one last lemon cookie. Nothing was better than those cookies.

Damon braced himself for seeing his mother again for the first time in ten years. He knocked on the door facing. Sofia Salvatore quickly turned around to greet her guest.

The years had been good to her. It was as if his mother hadn't aged a bit. She should be closing in on sixty now, and she didn't look a day over forty. There were no streaks of gray in her hair. From this distance there weren't any wrinkles either besides the ones near her mouth and her eyes. Her laughing lines. Sofia did love to laugh.

Tears came to his eyes. His mother was so beautiful. But she was more beautiful on the inside. Her personality made her a good person, but it was her patience and generosity that had made her a perfect mother.

"Mom," he whispered reverently.

"Damon?" He heard the catch in her voice. He watched as she dropped the spoon she had been using to stir the mixture with. It fell to the floor with a clatter. "Damon!"

He met her halfway and caught her into a hug. She was so small compared to him. When he had left he'd been eighteen. She'd been petite then. But the years had been good to him too. His muscles had bulked up and he might've gotten a little taller.

Sofia pulled away to look at her only son, her only child. "Oh, you're so handsome," she said cupping his face in her hands.

"That's because I've always looked like you, Mom," Damon told her.

"Only in the eyes. Everything else is your father. This is why you're handsome. You're a perfect mixture of both of us." She smiled at him. "It has taken you ten years to come back."

His eyes shuttered. "I'm sorry, Mom."

"Me too," Sofia replied patting one cheek. "But I understood. It's what you wanted and I think it's what you've needed all this time. Why have you come back now?"

She was the only other person he could talk to about anything besides his Elena. "I left something here a long time ago. I've come to get it back."

Sofia pulled completely away from her son. When she had seen Damon in her kitchen for the first time in ten years the hole that had taken up residence in her heart had filled up again. But with his answer, her heart broke all over again. Her son had no idea the hell he would go through now.