"Bonnie?" Elena says faintly, her voice muffled and fake. She's trying too hard not to sound like she's talking to a stranger. Her tone is abnormally warm, and her expression is drowning in confusion. There's fear in her eyes, enough to fill an ocean. Fear of losing someone and therefor, losing another part of herself. Fear of losing someone she just got back.

Bonnie's eyes keep flying to each and every one of us. She's suspicious. Confused. Lost. Scared. We're strangers to her and, in a way, in this situation, she's a stranger to us as well. We're all looking at her, trapping her in a circle like she's an animal we're all so desperate to catch, hoping she won't use her claws on us if she even remembers how to.

Finally, she stills her eyes on Elena. "Yeah.." she says again, once again confirming that this is indeed her. Then she does something so characteristically for Bonnie that we're all convinced that the girl in front of us is indeed her and not someone else just wearing her face to fool us. She takes up a defensive attitude. "And you are?"

Our happiness over the previous realization doesn't last for too long because her question creates an earth shattering silence, like when you tell someone you love them and they take too long to answer.

Elena makes a silent choking sound, one I hear only because I'm standing right next to her. I can sense her body, the electricity her skin is sending, all the chemistry between us, like her body is trying to reject something and it recognized mine as a host who would be more than glad to receive its unwanted emotions. She's shaking, very lightly, so lightly that it's not visible to the naked human eye, but I know that she is shaking because I can feel her. Because, by now, I know which things effect her enough to make her shake. To make her body produce that light tremor while experiencing shock.

"Who the hell are any of you?" she raises her voice after a long period of silence. We all forgot how to speak. She feels cornered, she can sense that she is our prey and that she's outnumbered. She's all alone and we're all acting as one, predators, animals trying to sink our teeth into her. She doesn't remember us, the faces of her friends, people who were there since childhood and are standing here now, waiting for her to wake up so they can cross the bridge to adulthood together.

I look at Damon. If able, I'd look at myself as well. Maybe it's better she doesn't remember all of us.

Can she sense it, the evil surrounding her? Does she remember being a witch? Does she know she's the one who's keeping the balance, because of whom we're all here right now? Because she always finds a way to save us, and we always forget to thank her..

"Do you know who you are?" Damon asks when no one else has enough courage to do so. He's the last person who should be asking Bonnie anything, but he's also the only one who can.

Bonnie looks at him in a way she has always looked at him. Her brows furrowed, a frown between her eyes, her forehead creased. She's looking at him like she doesn't trusts him. It almost makes me laugh. I would laugh if it wasn't completely inappropriate in this moment.

"Of course I do!" she answers, her tone indicating that she obviously thinks he's insane for asking that question. "My name is Bonnie Bennett," she says proudly, like she enjoys proving him wrong. "I live in Mystic Falls," she ends that sentence suspiciously open. Like she wanted to add something more, but couldn't remember what.

No one notices, though. Everyone are still too shocked and they take her knowing her name as a valid proof of her identity. Everyone except one person.

"I'm not really all that impressed, little witch," Damon says smugly. He's the only one who's relaxed. Maybe because he's still buzzed, or maybe because he's more buzzed than he was before. Or maybe he just really doesn't care. "That's not a top secret information."

Bonnie's expression turns somber. "How did you call me?" she asks fearfully. She doesn't seem smug anymore, or invincible, for the first time she seems vulnerable. Like his words ignited some long lost memory in her, memory that is lingering above her very core, but she refuses to reach for it.

We all stare at her. Even Damon stares at her, speechless, which doesn't happen a lot.

It never happens. Not a lot of things can leave my brother without words.

"Little witch?" her voice shakes, "Why did you call me like that?" she pushes the question some more after he doesn't give her an answer.

They stare at each other, like none of us are even in the room with them. His look lost, words sliding off his tongue back into his throat and her look fearful, her lips slightly parted because she has nothing more to say, but she hopes the words will come.

There's an eternity between them, or so it feels, and in this moment, they're the same. Him, who always has something to say and her, who has answers to all of our problems. At this moment, neither of them are the people we know and got used to.

Finally, a smirk climbs up Damon's lips. "See, you don't know who you are."

She gasps. Her eyes grow wider, more fearful. She's having this reaction because she knows it as well - she doesn't know who she is. "My name is Bonnie Bennett. I live in Mystic Falls," she repeats again, trying to prove to us, and to herself, that she knows who she is.

"Where is your family? Who are your friends?" Damon asks some more crucial questions, but he knows she doesn't have any answers to them. We all know.

"My name is Bonnie Bennett," she says desperately, "I live in Mystic Falls," she repeats it once again with her weak, shaky voice.

Her eyes get filled with tears, but she doesn't let any of them spill down her cheeks.

"What is your favorite color? Do you enjoy music?" Damon pushes it forward despite the fact we can all see how lost Bonnie is at this moment, "What is your pass time? What do you like to eat?" he asks more questions only Bonnie would know the answer to.

She keeps quiet for a very long time, then, in the midst of silence and darkness and overwhelming fear, she screams, "I don't know!" but she doesn't sound angry. She sounds desperate. Lost. Like she's hanging on a thread, and she's considering letting go.

She takes a deep breath to calm herself down, "I don't know, okay?" she says more calmly than the last time.

Just when Damon parts his lips to make room for more words, Elena jumps in, clearly affected by this all. "Enough!" she sounds angry and determined, like she's taking the matter into her own hands, "Can't you see that you're scaring her?" she clearly directs that question to Damon, but doesn't look at him. Instead, she moves into Bonnie's direction, who seems weary of this girl walking her way.

Damon seems at the loss of words, again. This is a weird day, to say at least.

This must be the first time Elena talked to him since the break up and, in a way, she didn't even really talk to him.

He backs down as Elena takes a seat next to Bonnie, who is still weary of her and clearly uncomfortable by the lack of space between them.

"Hello Bonnie," she says quietly, her voice still carrying a certain amount of sadness, but she doesn't sound like she's talking to a stranger anymore. She sounds like she's talking to a friend she hasn't seen in a while.

And I ask myself, when did she grow up this much? When did she become this girl? Maybe she always has been this person, I just failed to notice. Or maybe I did, and then forgot ever meeting her.

"I know you don't remember me," she goes on, trying to act like Bonnie's uncomfortable expression caused by their closeness doesn't bother her, "But I do remember you. My name is Elena Gilbert. I live in Mystic Falls as well," a smile forms on her lips.

Bonnie seems stunned by Elena's words.

So am I Bonnie, so am I.

I am stunned by her words and her posture and the way she holds herself. I am stunned by her beauty and how she manages to surprise me day after day, even after she disappoints me. I'm especially stunned by how I still love her after all the times she disappointed me and all the times I disappointed her. But I do, because she still holds me. I am stunned by the way she holds me. She always will.

And I'll always be hers.

Then, something happens, something I've never seen before and never though I will see as long as I live.

Bonnie breaks down. She starts crying. Big, clear tear drops start running down her cheeks, falling off of her chin, pouring down her neck.

Strong Bonnie. Bonnie who always holds it together. Bonnie who shows her weaknesses only to the chosen people.

Bonnie never breaks down. She never cries. At least not in front of anyone. She's the one who holds everything together. The only one strong enough to do so.

In this moment, we're all reminded of one thing we so often seem to forget - Bonnie is just human.

Probably more human than anyone else in this room.

She falls forward and crashes into Elena's arms, who gladly embraces her.

And for the first time after a long while, maybe even for the first time in their lives, Elena is comforting Bonnie. Elena is keeping Bonnie safe.

Now, Elena has to be the strong one.


ELENA'S POV

I'm a little bit ashamed when I open the door of my dorm room and see his standing there, gracious as always, every hair in its place while I'm wearing sweatpants Caroline stained with a chocolate cake that won't come out, a tank top and a messy bun on the top of my head.

I know that my skin looks paler than usual and I feel like someone pushed my eyes deeper in their sockets. I'm free of any make up. I'm trying to write an essay I found out recently I have to do for one of my classes, and I have no idea where to start. I've even moved my laptop from the comfort of my bed to the writing desk, where it's surrounded by a stack of books, but, so far, it's not helping. Maybe college wasn't such a good idea with everything else going on. I have no idea how Caroline manages it but, somehow, she always knows her assignments and how to do them.

A knock on the door was a welcome distraction from staring blankly into the screen. Until I actually opened the door and felt a wave of shame washing over me.

Now we're staring at each other, stunned, speechless. He probably doesn't have anything nice to say so he's keeping his mouth shut, while I'm at the loss of words. My mind is completely blank, but it's trying so hard to think of something, anything.

"I know, you can't even recognize me," I smile awkwardly, saying the first thing that comes to my mind, thought induced by his confused expression and surprised look in his eyes.

After few seconds of silence, seconds which, to me, seemed like an eternity, he answers, still wearing the same expression as before, a mix of confusion and surprise, "I finally can," he says silently, as if he didn't mean to say it at all.

When he realizes he did indeed say it out loud, an alarmed look appears in his eyes, letting me know that he didn't want me to know his thoughts. He wanted to keep them for himself, but they slipped out unintentionally.

Silence stretches all around us. He keeps his eyes on mine, still alarmed, still petrified of what my reaction to his words might be.

I don't have a reaction, not other than my cheeks blushing. I can feel my skin adapting a warmer color. Maybe it's radiant, like the sun.

I clear my throat with a cough, "Can I help you with something?" I ask when the intensity of his look weighs over me.

He jumps a little, like he's been hit by something, like someone woke him up from a daydream he had found himself in. His mind must have been somewhere else, and I curse myself for not noticing. Maybe because my mind hasn't been here either. "I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I'd stop by in case Caroline is here."

He was probably visiting Katherine, who's now a student here. I didn't have a pleasure of seeing her on campus, yet. Luckily. "She's in class," I answer instantly, but when I see his face drop, I continue, "She should be back soon, though," then I do something I should have done the moment I opened the door, "Would you like to come in?"

I feel like I'm asking more of him than just inviting him into the room.

I can see him weighing his options, trying to determine the best course of action. I don't know how high being in the same room alone with me is on his list of the things that make him uncomfortable.

So I add, "You could wait for her here," hoping I don't sound too desperate for his company.

"Sure," he finally agrees.

I push the door fully open and let him step inside.

By the way he's moving around the room I conclude that he's been here before. Probably with Caroline, when I was somewhere else, while I was someone else.

He still doesn't feel free enough to touch anything or sit anywhere without an invitation.

"So," he claps his palms, licks his lower lip, "What have you been up to?"

I crash into the chair by the desk and groan. "I have this essay to write for my English class," I sigh tiredly, "And I have no idea where to start."

He doesn't say anything. Instead, he walks over to my desk and goes over through the stack of books piled on it, smiling while reading the titles.

"What?" I ask, a smile forming on my lips as well. He looks up at me questioningly. "You're smiling," I explain the need for my question further.

"Nothing," he lowers his look down, still smiling, "It's just.." it's weird to see Stefan struggling with words, he always has so many of them, especially the right ones, "All these books, they're you. Something you have loved, you know, before. I'm just happy for you, that you're getting a chance to do what you love," he puts the books down on the desk, his expression turning somber, "Which is why I have zero doubts about you writing this essay. Once you start, you won't be able to stop."

I'm not sure how to respond to this, so I say, "Well, you can go here as well, and study what you love."

"I did," he frowns and out of some reason, it worries me, it affects me, "Several times, actually," he chuckles silently, awkwardly, sadly, "That's the easy part. The hard part is walking away from it when people become weary."

I gasp silently, hoping he didn't hear it. I didn't even think about it, that we won't be able to stay here forever. That we'll have to leave, at least for some time, until enough years pass by. I didn't think about it, maybe because it's so far away from now, maybe because we still have years to pretend we're normal people living normal lives, lives we were always supposed to live. Lives we wanted to lead.

I don't know how my life will look like in few years from now. I don't know when exactly we'll have to leave or where we'll go to. I don't even know will we all go together, or will we take separate paths.

It's something I don't want to think about for the time being. I've had too many goodbyes in my life to think about the future ones.

So, instead, I ask, "How's Bonnie?"

Stefan seems grateful that I've decided to change the subject, even though he's the one who started it, he probably realized it's not such a good idea. He doesn't want to think about it either.

Sometimes I forget this has been his home longer than it's been mine.

"She's well. There's no progress, but Damon and Jeremy took her to Wanda to see if there's any way to reverse the state she's in, so we'll see," I can see him eyeing me carefully. He probably wants to ask something, but he's not sure should he. In the end, he does, "How are you dealing with it?"

It seems selfish of me to be dealing with anything, because my feelings are not the primary problem here, but since he asked, I decide to answer him honestly. I guess that's one thing I've always been able to be with Stefan - honest. "I'm fine," I say, and for the first time, I'm not lying, "It's been hard, to lose your friend and then get her back only to lose her again, but at least now she's not completely gone. She's here and I'll do my best to fix my past mistakes," I confess.

He keeps silent, like he knows I'm not done. Like he knows there's more to it, something I'm not telling. "You know what's the worst thing?" I ask but don't give him enough time to reply. It wasn't a real question anyway. "The relief I felt when I realized she doesn't remember, because that means she doesn't remember I didn't notice she's dead. It means she doesn't remember what a shit friend I've been to her recently."

"Elena," he says my name soothingly, "I don't think Bonnie would blame you for enjoying your life and believing the lie she herself presented to you," he says to make me feel better. He always tries to make me feel better, even when he knows his efforts have a fault.

"She never would," I reply, "But I do. I hold it against myself."

The expression on his face tells me he understands. After all, there are so many things he holds against himself as well.

We spend the rest of the time in silence, until Caroline comes and steals him away from me.


AN: I know some of your are hungry for some Stelena, I am as well, but then again, I don't want to rush them. I don't want Stefan to take her back blindly like none of this has effected him, even if he accepts that he loves her and always will, and I don't want Elena to jump into yet another relationship like it's the answer to all of her problems. Their time will come, so just be patient.