One week later...

STEFAN'S POV

At some point, in the midst of intense grief, after you've cried all the possible tears you can, a strange sense of numbness comes over your entire body in a wave, like a high dose of novocaine. The only thing that remains is a hollow sense of loss -a sense of emptiness- weighing down your entire being, your soul. But it's tolerable. It's one of the worst and best feelings a person can experience while grieving.

The numbness overwhelming my body was the best thing I had felt in days... because of the fact that it was nothing. Like a blank page. A static television. A vacant home. Right now, at this given moment in time, I felt absolutely nothing, my every emotion fried to the point of uselessness. This feeling -an addicting one- was originally what had driven me to my addiction last year, so I could stop feeling altogether. It was never the same though. It was scary, feeling so utterly alone in life that I had driven myself to such a personal low. But right now, I did not have to worry about that, because naturally, my mind had stopped working. Hell, I'd even felt so much of nothing that I'd mistaken it for some strange remnant of happiness, and I ended up at work, if anyone was even calling it that.

The entire studio was filled with quiet people, walking with their heads down as they tried to keep themselves busy with unnecessary work, like handing out coffees or copying scripts. Elena's scripts. As if she was coming back.

If I could have felt anything, I probably would have been angered by this secretary's stupid excuse for work. What a waste of paper. Elena wasn't coming back. The person -the thing- roaming the dark streets of London had killed her. I just knew it, deep in the pit of my stomach. It murdered her because I was too stupid to lift my head when she followed me outside. And when I finally looked up, she wasn't there; there was no sign she'd even been standing behind me, and what did I do?

I thought nothing of it.

I got on my bike, rode to Damon's apartment where the caller had said the body was, and found nothing. No screaming crowd of civilians, no ambulance, no body... no blood! But also, there was no Damon. He wasn't in his apartment, or the studio...

Within the same hour, I quickly discovered there was also no Elena.

And it haunted me, the fact that I was responsible for all of it. My recurring dreams of Elena appearing in my apartment and telling me over and over again that I killed her had become a regular part of my life at this point. It was either that or hallucinations; my withdrawal symptoms had been bad lately, probably because the idea of relapse was always fresh in my mind.

Yesterday, they had both officially been declared missing persons, although they'd truly been gone for a week. A whole week! The cell phone that had called me could not be tracked, but I was sure of one thing: whoever had called had taken -or killed- them both. And I was determined to find this sad mistake for a person and put their murder-spree to an end, for the sake of justice and revenge.

Now, as I slowly ran my hand along Elena's table where she looked over scripts, I sighed and leaned against it. The grief was returning; I could feel the painful ache in my chest, the overwhelming guilt for not turning around. It would have been so easy! Instead, I just cried over the unknown death of my brother. Maybe I could have saved Damon, too, if I hadn't bent over weeping like a child. Maybe the killer hadn't taken him until after they'd taken Elena. Maybe-

"Stefan?"

I raised my head, only to be greeted with Katherine's brown eyes. Her voice... it had been so similar to Elena's. Was it strange that I was still hoping my girlfriend was the one to walk through that door? "Katherine, hey..."

She leaned against the doorway, her regular poise and confidence seemingly gone. Her skin-tight clothes seemed a little looser than usual; it seemed as if she had lost weight. "You okay?" she asked, her voice hoarse and quiet.

"Honestly?" I began, scoffing humorlessly. Her lips quirked up in a slight grin, an attempt at a fake smile, though it faded almost the second it started. I wondered if I was finally meeting the Katherine who was hidden beneath thick layers of makeup and hair product. "I'm sorry," I began, dropping my head, "about Elena. I wasn't- I couldn't- I should have-"

"Saved her," she finished for me. I nodded and shamefully dropped my head. "I don't blame you, if it makes you feel any better. I know some people do, but not me. Why were you with her anyways?"

Biting my lip, I refused to respond for a few moments. My mind was not working well enough to think of a decent excuse on the spot. "She stopped by the pub that night and... uh..."

"You fell in love with her." With those words, I slowly raised my head -with eyes full of confusion, I'm sure- and met Katherine's dark eyes. I opened my mouth to speak, but she interrupted, "How did I know that? I know Elena very well, Stefan. She's my cousin. And in my personal opinion, she's not the best actress. See, she talks and talks and it's great. It's emotional and believable. The Teen Choice Awards agree and that's great, but there's a reason she doesn't have an Oscar."

I could feel my lips curl up into an amused grin at Katherine's words. "And why is that?"

"It's all in the eyes, Stefan. She can't act through her eyes." Arching an eyebrow, she put both hands on the table and sat on it, right beside me. "The point of what I just said? Long story short: she's a very bad liar if you know how to read her."

I chuckled, the closest to a laugh I'd gotten all week. "Well, now you know. I guess none of that really matters though, does it?" Any twinge of amusement had already faded.

She leaned closer and placed her hand on my shoulder, a simple gesture to show comfort. My senses were briefly evaded by the familiar scent of vanilla shampoo -Elena's shampoo- and I had to close my eyes to keep from leaning closer. I was sitting next to Katherine, not Elena, I reminded myself. Even if Katherine looked similar to Elena and used the same shampoo, she was not Elena, never could be... "Hey," she whispered. "We'll find her."

"Yeah," I said simply. "We will."

I wished that I could believe my own words.

"We will," she promised, firmly. "Damon too. And no matter what, you have to tell yourself you're lucky with the time that you got with them." I gritted my teeth as I listened to Katherine's attempt at being soothing. How could I feel fortunate if I was the one to blame? As I continued to think, she kept going, "They're lucky to have gotten the time that they did with you."

"And how so?" I snapped venomously. "For all we know, I could have gotten them both killed. Having me in their lives was probably the worst damn thing to happen to both of them!"

Katherine sighed. "They were lucky," she said softly, in one of the gentlest tones I had ever heard from anyone. I had to admit; I was shocked that it was actually Katherine who had said the words, so much like Elena would have, in such a soothing, empathetic tone. I had no choice but to believe her in this vulnerable moment. "Elena was so lucky, Stefan." I could feel her fingers brush against my hair behind my ears in a soothing manner- well, they weren't really her fingers, more like the tips of her long, fake nails. As she moved closer, her voice darkened a bit, returning to the original tone that I was used to, the rich, seductive one that Katherine was infamously known for. "To be completely honest, I've been a little jealous of her." My body went rigid. When I didn't respond, she kept going. "All of the time she got to spend with you..."

"Katherine...," I said levelly, closing my eyes. I suddenly became very aware of her fingertips caressing my hair. "I can't."

"I know, Stefan, I know." As she whispered the words, she moved a little closer to me, resting her forehead against my temple; I remembered Elena once doing something similar. Once again, the scent of Elena's vanilla hotel shampoo overwhelmed me. "But I'm here for you, okay? Anything you need. Anything."

I swallowed. "Okay."

With that, Katherine placed a slow kiss on my cheek and slid off of the table. "I'll see you later," she said before disappearing. I exhaled heavily as soon as she was gone, and raised my hand to my cheek. Beneath the obvious guilt of whatever had just happened, my heart had been fooled; I could have sworn that the fathomless, unforgiving gap had closed just a little bit. Katherine wasn't Elena; I knew that. But there were so many little things, so many habits of Elena's that her cousin had picked up on. She reminded me so much of her.

Dear God, I missed Elena so much.

ELENA'S POV

I shivered. The London air was circling around me with an eerie, unshakeable freeze that chilled me to the bone. Where was I? What time was it?

The drivers of cars honked at me in aggravation, swerving around my trembling body and sending me a dirty look while doing it. After realizing that I was standing in the center of the street, I slowly made my way over to the sidewalk. I was weak, tired... hungry. When was the last time I had had something to eat? An eternity?

Not many people were driving right now, and the moon was dimly looming overhead, leading me to believe it was very late at night, maybe even three in the morning. Disoriented and barely even coherent, I trudged toward the big, bright ferris wheel that lit up the whole area. It was a landmark... but a landmark for what?

The bridge. I needed to cross that bridge... and get somewhere... get to someone...

Stefan. I needed to get to Stefan! I needed to cross Westminster Bridge and get to the pub... get to Stefan's apartment. My heart nearly burst as I recalled the last memory I had before waking up here: Stefan, sitting on the curb of the sidewalk, his shoulders wracking with silent tears over the supposed death of his brother. And I could do nothing but watch.

Throat burning and muscles aching, I slowly took the three mile walk from the London Eye to Caroline's Pub. Despite my body's desperate need to just stop and rest, I kept going; the lingering image of Stefan's broken face haunted my thoughts and motivated me to keep going. When I managed to get through the back door of the pub, I crawled up the kitchen stairs until I reached the three apartment doors. Practically stumbling, I knocked on the door with the little "2" written on it. The yellow beam of light coming out from beneath the door was the only indication that Stefan was still awake.

I stopped breathing when I saw the knob turning. Slowly, hesitantly, Stefan opened the door, and the moment our eyes met, all of the color drained from his face. I barely croaked out his name, an attempt to get some sort of reaction out of him, but he only looked more terrified. His jaw was set, and for the first time, I got a good look at his face; it looked much thinner, hollower. He looked older, too. No one was mistaking him for a floppy, geeky, fresh-out-of-high-school teenager anymore. It was almost as if the pain had been etched into his face, and that realization made my heart shatter. He looked broken. Beautiful nonetheless, but completely... shattered. For the hundredth time, I was reminded that he had experienced way more than any eighteen year old should have. "Stefan, I'm so confused," I tried. "I woke up in the middle of the street and everything hurts-"

"Stop," he practically growled, interrupting me. I was taken aback by his tone, though I could have sworn I sensed desperation in his voice as well. "Please... just leave me alone."

"What the hell, Stefan?" I gritted my teeth. What on earth had I done to make him so angry? Here I was, disoriented and pained, and he wasn't going to even let me into his apartment? "Look, if I did something-"

I watched as his knuckles turned whiter, his grip tightening on the side of the door. "I know I should have looked up. I know I hurt you. I know I killed you. I know. So, please, there's nothing else you can say. Just go. You're not real."

I let out the breath I didn't even know I had been holding, my eyes searching his for any sign of clarity in this moment; I found none. He didn't think I was real. Clearly, he thought this was a dream. "How long have I been gone, Stefan?"

He was puzzled by my question, taken aback. "You've been missing for week."

I gasped. "A whole week?" He looked -actually, he glared- at me as if I had three heads, an expression I never expected to see on Stefan's gentle, loving face. Or at least I never expected to see that look directed at me. "I don't remember anything."

He rested his head against the side of the door and tightly shut his eyes. "Dear god, please leave me alone!" he cried, hitting his head against the hard wood. "Wake up, wake up," he muttered to himself furiously. I could feel hot tears threatening to spill from my eyes at the sight of Stefan in this moment; the guilt was eating him from the inside out, haunting him every night... and in my form. He truly believed, even while I was missing or possibly dead to him, that I despised him and blamed him for whatever had happened.

"Stefan," I breathed his name like it was the only word I knew. "Oh, Stefan. I'm so sorry."

He stopped what he was doing and stared. He looked completely and utterly baffled. "You're apologizing?" I noticed that his hands were shaking a bit, his eyes filling with the smallest glimmer of hope.

"You're not dreaming," I promised. "It's me, Stefan. It's really me."

The resignation in his eyes was obvious. "C-come in," he said finally. With his head lowered and posture anything but confident, he stepped aside from the door and I walked inside, never taking my eyes off of his strange composure.

"Am I hallucinating?" he asked me. "I'm hallucinating, aren't I? Yes, of course I am. Stupid withdrawal..." He paced for a few seconds before striding over to his small kitchen counter, unscrewing the lid of his pill bottle, pouring what had to be at least five capsules into his hand.

"Stop!" I snapped, running over to him, grabbing his wrist and taking the pills out of his palm. "Are you trying to kill yourself? Oh my god! I'm real, Stefan! I'm here!"

He breathed out shakily and leaned against the counter, his breathing ragged. He stayed like that for a few seconds, frozen in place, and I started to wonder if I was actually going to drive him to a breaking point if he didn't realize soon that I was actually here with him. So, acting on instinct, I grabbed his tense shoulders and spun him around. Then, before he even had time to react, I pressed my lips against his, a little more forcefully than usual, a clear attempt to get him to feel something, anything.

When I pulled away, I finally saw a glimmer of familiarity in Stefan's green eyes. "Tell me that wasn't real," I pleaded, holding his face between my hands. "Look, Stefan. I'm touching you. You can feel that, right? It's me. I'm actually here. I'm sure you've had dreams or hallucinations where you've been touched, but it feels different. This... this is real." Cautiously, I took one hand from his face and ran it through his hair, down his back, until I finally pulled my body tightly against his. I could feel the feverish heat radiating off of him, whereas he could probably feel just how cold I was against him in comparison.

He blinked, and I could see the resolve slowly breaking in his mind as he let in the possibility. "Elena," he marveled. Afraid of rejection, he lifted his hand until it was barely over mine. He was scared to squeeze it, afraid I'd vanish, so I entangled our fingers together for him.

"Yes, Stefan," I coaxed, holding my breath. "I don't remember what happened, but I woke up on that street and I'm here. I'm back. The killer... Or whatever took me... They let me go."

"Elena." He said my name again, like it was a rediscovered treasure meant for only him to find. He was having trouble breathing, his eyes scanning over my face for any mistakes or flaws that would imply that I was an imposter. When he found none, all he could do was whisper "Elena" once more before wrapping his arms tightly around me and pulling me against him. I don't think he ever wanted to let go, but that was fine with me. After a few silent moments, I could feel his hot tears against my shoulder, causing my own eyes to water.

"Shhh, shhh. It's okay, it's okay," I said to him between my own tears too, placing my lips on the spot where his neck met his shoulder. I couldn't even imagine what he had gone through this past week, overwhelmed by guilt while trying to come to terms with the fact that I had probably been killed. The saddest part though, was that he had had no hope to begin with. Maybe he thought he didn't deserve to get a miracle. But when he realized I was there, and his cold, denial-ridden wall just crumbled, I could see that hope returning to his eyes, and I swore, the way he looked at me, like I was the best thing that ever happened to him, was something I would never forget.

And this was the exact moment, where he was crying into my shoulder and repeatedly muttering "Thank God," and "I missed you so much" along with something that sounded like an Italian prayer over and over... This was the moment that I realized I was definitely, completely, one hundred percent in love with him. Because his pain was my pain, because he couldn't live without me, just like I couldn't live without him. Ilobbed him, and I knew it to the depth of my soul.

And I was going to say it, too, except for the fact that when I pressed my face against Stefan's shoulder once again, the only thing I could concentrate on was the pulse beneath his flesh and the strange, unfamilar but intoxicating scent emanating from his skin. For a brief, terrifying moment, I forgot about everything: who he was, what he meant to me...

I didn't understand why, but suddenly, all I wanted -all I needed- was whatever was coursing through his veins.

A/N: Oooooh no! What's going on with Elena? What happened to her in that week while she was gone? How will Stefan react? And where's Damon? What will happen to Stefan and Elena now? Obviously, this was a very busy chapter, so please let me know what you thought. Your feedback means everything to me! :) sorry for the sort of slow update; school has been so busy! I promise though, I will continue to update as fast as I can as long as you guys still want to read!

Please leave a review letting me know what you liked, what you didn't like, what you want to see, or just any feedback you may have! Each review inspires me so much!

Thank you for reading! Xoxo

Sara