"I'll have the regular," Elena said as the waiter took down our order.

"Same," I replied as I looked down at my twiddling thumbs.

He walked away quickly and Elena began, "I come here almost every day for breakfast. My friend Bonnie usually comes with me, but you seem like you needed a good meal today more than she does."

"Oh," I replied. "What did I order?"

"A chocolate chip pancake with some tea," she replied. "That's my regular."

"Katherine hated pancakes," I said blandly while continuing to look at my hands folded on the table. "More of a waffle person, I guess. She loved tea, though."

"Stefan," Elena said my name sadly, "I understand how much this hurts, and I am really sorry. I shouldn't have made you go with me."

She put one hand over my folded ones. I looked up into her grave, sorrowful brown doe eyes. This woman, whose whole life had figuratively and almost literally been ripped from her mere days ago, was consoling me.

"You didn't make me," I said. "I agreed to go."

"I couldn't have done it without you," she said. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

We sat in silence until our food came.

"Here you go, Beautiful," a different boy said as he set Elena's plate in front of her. He had blonde hair and blue eyes. By the looks of it, he was a busboy. "Here is yours, sir."

"Thanks," I mumbled.

"Thank you, Matt," Elena said as she stretched her body up to peck him on the lips.

"How are things, 'Lena?" he asked.

"They're…sad," she replied. "The majority of the aftermath has landed on Jenna's shoulders, and, while it's unrelated to the accident, I think Jeremy is on drugs."

"That really sucks," he said. "I'll be there today after the morning shift. My clothes are in my bag in the back. I'm gonna change here and then meet up with you."

"Good," she replied as she directed her attention to me. "This is Stefan Salvatore. He was Katherine's boyfriend."

"Hi, man," Matt said as he shook my hand. "I'm really sorry about your loss."

"Thanks," I repeated as I poured syrup on my pancake. I was really sick of hearing those words, and the way Elena used my relationship title in the past tense made me want to vomit.

"Stefan," Elena began, "this is my boyfriend, Matt."

Boyfriend?

"Hi," I mumbled.

It didn't surprise me that Elena had a boyfriend, but I wasn't expecting it, either. However, it suddenly made accidentally kissing her yesterday all the more awkward. He seemed to show no animosity toward me, so she either hadn't told him, or he just felt really bad for me.

Matt left us to eat alone, and we left quickly after that. I gave him a five dollar tip.

In order to save a trip, Elena decided she was just going home and taking me with her; she wasn't dropping me off at the boarding house. By the time we got there, it was eight o' clock. I exited her car and walked slowly up to her porch. She turned the handle, but the door didn't open.

"Jeremy must be gone already," she mumbled to herself. "My key is in my pocket. Would you get it out for me?"

Her hands were full with the files, tool belt, and box of something of which the contents were a mystery to me. She refused to let me help carry anything.

I dug into her front dress pocket, careful not to let her see how my hands shook with nervousness at the proximity of my hand and her body. The key was at the bottom of her dress pocket, and I pulled it out quickly.

It easily fit into the doorknob and opened the wooden blockade, leaving entrance into her home.

"Go on in," she said as she jolted the box up to carry it easier.

I obeyed, feeling bad at watching her struggle.

When my feet hit the entrance, the wood floor creaked below me-a homey feeling, for sure. I could hear Elena behind me, for her heels clicked on the floor as she made her way into the kitchen to set the box on the island table.

I finally decided to ask, "What's in the box?"

"The only belongings in my dad's car worth recovering," she said. "I want to go through them to look for anything to help us."

"Oh."

"You seem tired," she noticed. "If you want, you can take a nap on the couch until it's time to go to the funeral."

While part of me wanted to help her, the other part of me knew this was probably something she wanted-even needed-to do on her own. I left her with a shy, sleepy smile and made my way to the living room where I occupied the totality of the couch. In all honesty, it could've been the most uncomfortable piece of furniture I'd ever rested on, but I was too tired to care. I quickly went into a black sleep.

…

When I'd woken up, it was at the hand of Elena. My eyes cracked open to see this Katherine look-alike smiling at me.

"We have half an hour before the ceremony begins, but I have to be there early," she said.

I quickly rose from the couch and onto my feet, "Alright."

I had to fight the groggy feeling people get when they wake in the middle of the day. My voice cracked and rumbled as I groaned, stretching out the lethargy.

"Do you want lunch?" she asked as she grabbed her keys from the island in the kitchen. It was covered in papers and notes, along with some articles that were in the box. Her camera sat by her notepad.

"No thanks," I said as I followed her out to her Jeep.

"Alright," she said as she got in and slammed the door. "Tell me about yourself, Stefan Salvatore."

"Well," I began, happy to discuss something that didn't exactly revolve around my dead girlfriend. "I'm from New York City, and I graduated school last year. I played football for six years as a lineman and sometimes quarterback when we were short a few guys. My favorite color is red, and any sort of red meat is my favorite thing to eat.

"My father is a pure Italian man who moved here from Italy to marry my mother. She had two children before they divorced. Then, he moved back to Italy. I have an older brother who currently lives with him. We don't get along."

"What're their names?" she asked as she drove.

"My mother's name is Nicole," I started. "It's short for Nicolette. She's French, but was born and raised in the U.S. My father's name is Giuseppe, and my brother's name is Damon."

"As in Damon Salvatore?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said curiously. "What about it?"

Elena pulled a book out from beside her seat and handed it to me, "I think there's a Damon Salvatore listed as one of the people who came to Katherine's calling hours. It's one of the last ones. I think it was signed after you left."

I'd left at eight o' clock, and the event went until nine, so it was plausible many people could've signed it afterwards.

"He's in Italy, though," I said mostly to myself as I flipped through the names on the signed guestbook. Names ranged from Elena and Jeremy Gilbert to Jenna Sommers, and even some guy named Nicklaus…whoever that was.

I flipped to the last page, and there it was.

Right under the name of Matthew Donovan was 'Damon Salvatore' scribbled in my brother's typical scratchy handwriting.

"Salvatore, as in Savior," he'd always tell people when he introduced himself. I could just picture it now. He said the same thing to Katherine the night of my graduation party-right before he tried to pin her against a wall and plant an alcohol-induced kiss on her mouth. Luckily the girl was flexible and managed to slither out of his grasp. I punched him and haven't spoke to him since. He made me sick!

"Well," I managed to choke out, "if he's here, then at least he had the nerve to show up."

"You should reconcile with him if you're arguing," she said. "If I would've been fighting with my parents or Katherine before the accident, I would've felt terrible afterward."

Fighting the urge to call her 'Mom', I folded my hands across my lap and continued onto a different subject.

"What about you?" I asked. "Tell me about yourself."

"Well," she sighed. "I just recently turned eighteen, and until I can get my life together, my guardian is going to be an aunt who didn't know until last week. Jenna went to New York with my mom to take care of Katherine. I have a little brother, and his name is Jeremy. He's sixteen. My boyfriend, Matt, is a great guy, but, if I'm honest, he and I don't seem to naturally "fit together". I'm not sure if it's from my mind shock from losing my family, or if it's really the truth, so I don't want to make any drastic decisions before I actually get my scruples back."

"Interesting," I commented. I was going for more along the lines of learning her favorite color, but maybe she just needed to vent.

Pulling into the parking lot, I took a deep breath and prepared for yet another saddening event about Katherine and her death.

"I wonder whose car that is," I heard Elena say to herself. I looked in the same direction she was and my eyes seemed to open just a bit wider as my jaw clenched.

There was that pale blue 1967 Chevy Camaro I would recognize from anywhere.

That was Damon's car. I quickly got out and stalked over to it. Knocking on the window, I got his attention. Sure enough, it was the devil himself. I mentally scolded myself for talking about him on my way over here.

He was clean shaven, as always, and donning his black suit-his funeral suit, he called it. With a matching black shirt, tie, and hair, the only true color he wore was the crystal, ocean blue shade of his eyes.

This time, though, said eyes were surrounded with a light pink rims and puffiness. There was a red mark across his forehead from where he had his head on the steering wheel, no doubt.

He straightened up for a moment before stepping out of his vehicle, "Hello, Brother."

"Damon," I nodded. "You've been crying."

"Katherine was a beloved unofficial member of our family," Damon stated, "and I miss her."

"Are you going to attend this funeral as a mourning friend or a scorned attempted lover?" I asked venomously. "She was my girlfriend, Damon. I don't need you here messing it up by forgetting that."

"Believe it or not, I cared about her, too," he said. "I'm here to pay my respects as somebody who loved Katherine Elizabeth Pierce."

"Fine," I said. He didn't exactly agree to my terms, but it was the closest thing to a consensus I was going to get from him.

Before I turned away, he shook my hand, "Let's put that behind us, Brother. What's done is done, and it's obvious it won't happen again."

"Right," I said angrily. "It won't happen because she's dead."

I turned away and stomped inside.

Hearing his footsteps trail behind mine, I pretended he didn't exist for just a moment and took my seat in front of Katherine's senior photo. On a stand off to the left, there was a picture of Katherine and I smiling with each other on the night of the Senior Cruise.

Every year the senior class took a small ship out donned with lights and streamers representing their final goodbye. They took it for a cruise around the bay and Ellis Island. We had dinner and an award ceremony for all of the students. The picture was of Katherine and I sitting at a dinner table. Our backs were to the camera, but we turned our upper torsos around to smile for the photo. It was a last-second candid, but I loved the picture. It was a good night, and it ended with Katherine in my bed. I lived in the guesthouse back home, so we had privacy, at least.

I tore my eyes away from the photo and towards Elena, who was waving for me to come and sit beside her. I listened and grabbed a seat between her and Jenna. A younger boy with dark hair sat on her other side.

"This is Jeremy," Elena whispered into my ear when she caught me staring.

"Hey, nice to meet you," he whispered and leaned over Elena to shake my hand. I returned the favor.

I couldn't get the feeling of Elena's sweet breath tickling my ear until a preacher came up to the pulpit.

"Friends, family, and acquaintances," he began, "We are gathered to this mourning event to remember Grayson Gilbert, Miranda Gilbert, and Katherine Pierce. These young people were taken from us in a surprising incident, but if I know one thing, it's that we have an Almighty and Powerful God, and when he decides to take one of his followers, it should not be a time of mourning, but of celebration..."

I tried to tune him out as he spoke about the achievements of Miranda and Grayson. When he spoke about Katherine, it was short. I put my face in my hands when he mentioned how loved she was...and that her boyfriend came all the way down from New York to attend.

Elena patted and rubbed my back as a sign of comfort while tears rolled down her cheeks. I was guessing her makeup was waterproof because it didn't run alongside her tears.

When the ceremony was over, the building evacuated, except for Matt, Jeremy, Tyler, Alaric, and myself. We'd all introduced ourselves to each other.

"Where's Nicklaus?" a man who owned the funeral home asked. "He's the last pallbearer."

"I'll do it," I heard a voice in the back of the room announce. My eyes narrowed as I turned my head to see Damon.

"Fine, fine," the man said. "Get up here. You are in the front left across from Stefan."

'Oh, great!'

He quietly made his way beside me and we picked up Grayson's casket first.

"Now I know why you're staying," he mumbled across to me.

"Why?" I challenged while looking straight ahead as to not bring notice from the onlookers.

"One word: Elena," he said. "You want her, Stef. You want her because she looks like Katherine."

"Shut up, Damon," I said. In a way he was right: I did want to be around her because she reminded me of Katherine, but I didn't want her. Not like that, at least. I knew she wasn't Katherine. Also, I was only staying to help find Katherine's killer.

He didn't say anything whilst carrying the other two caskets.

Katherine's was the last casket to be loaded, and Elena came up to me.

"Stefan, would you drive for me?" she begged as her eyes were blinded with tears thicker than a waterfall. I guess it finally sunk in.

"Yeah," I said as I hugged her close. "I'm sorry, Elena."

She got into her Jeep after attaching the purple and white flags onto her car. I had to adjust the seat, for my legs were longer. I wondered why Matt wasn't driving with her, but decided not to verbalize it. Perhaps she needed someone who could empathetically relate to what she was feeling. Matt drove his own car, anyway.

"I'm right behind Katherine's casket," she said. "Just pull on up."

Her eyes were pink and puffy, and I felt bad that I couldn't hand her a tissue or something. I didn't have any to give. Thus, as a sign of comfort, I placed my right hand on her left shoulder and stole concerting glances at her.

"I'm sorry, Stefan," she said to me as she wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. "I'm blabbering like a baby."

"Elena," I said, "you've just lost your parents, and your twin sister whom you've just met. You cry your eyes out, sweetheart, because not even the strongest person in the world could hold all that pain in."

"Thanks," she sobbed as she leaned over and pecked me on the cheek.

It was an innocent, wet kiss - covered in tears and coated with pain - which I wished could make everything better. I wished she were Katherine, and that there was no third casket of hers. I wanted to go back in time and fix it, but I couldn't do that.

I didn't say anything as Elena took my hand and held it in her lap for comfort. I could tell that there was no attraction behind it. The action wasn't out of fondness or love, though a small speck of my subconscious wanted to believe it was. I'd be damned if Damon was going to be right on this one, though. In the end, this was just for comfort. Instead of talking, I practiced not letting my hand shake at our proximity.

When I'd pulled up behind the hearses, I exited the Jeep slowly after putting the seat back in place. My next job was to carry the caskets with my brother to the three stands under the tent. I looked at the line behind me and was surprised to count so many cars. Elena had told me that there were family, friends, and council members here, along with coworkers and some people from the local police department. They, too, believed that this was no accident.

My jobs were done quickly, and I sat beside Jeremy this time, for Matt had come along and taken the place of comforting Elena as tears flowed down her face like the Niagara. My heart broke for her, but I couldn't much let that show, for Damon decided to take the seat next to me.

"I see you drove Elena here," he smirked as he whispered into my ear. I'll be the first to say that a woman whispering into your ear softly is sexy, but when an older brother does it harshly and in a sarcastic way, it's the most irritating thing in the world. It took all I had not to punch him right there.

"And the grass is green," I noted. "Why are we playing a game of stating the obvious?"

"Stop trying to be a smartass, Stefan," he said. "You can't do it like I can."

"Thankfully," I commented as a prayer began. "Why are you here, Damon? I want the truth, not that 'I loved Katherine, too' crap."

"Well," he began, "I did love Katherine, but the real reason is that I'm here on behalf of Mother. She wanted to know why you were staying down here and not coming back home immediately. Since she couldn't take off work to find out, she paid for a plane ticket for me to come here and find out."

"No wonder she is so good at business," I whispered. "She's into everybody's."

Damon agreed.

Once the prayer was done, all three caskets were laid to rest. Katherine and Grayson were to be buried here with Miranda, because that's where all their family was.

I let a few tears fall, but stopped when I saw Damon approach Elena.

"Hello, Miss Elena," he began. "I'm Stefan's older brother, Damon. Damon Salvatore, as in "Savior"."

"Hi," she said between sobs. "I'm Elena Gilbert."

I desperately wanted to approach him from behind, grab him by his feathered black hair, and cram his nose cartilage into his skull, but I couldn't stoop that low. There were witnesses.

"Jealous much?" I heard somebody approach from behind me. "Don't worry. Elena's not the only pretty female in this town."

I turned around to see a tall blonde with blue eyes looking up at me.

"I'm sorry?" I said.

"I'm Caroline," she said as she stuck her hand out. "Caroline Forbes."

"Stefan Salvatore," I introduced.

"I heard you were with Katherine," she said. "I'm sorry for your loss. If you'd like, we could go talk about it."

I looked back at Damon, who was swooning Elena while Matt spoke with Jeremy, and something in me snapped, "Sure. I'll go."

"Great," she said.

She grabbed my hand and led me to her car. She talked about everything under the sun while I listened.

But I was fuming, and all I could think about was Damon speaking to Elena.

'Salvatore as in Savior,' he'd said. In that moment, I'd pictured him grabbing Elena and trying to kiss her like he'd done Katherine, and I fumed.

I hid it, though. Caroline was speaking, and yelling would've been rude. She seemed nice enough, but I wasn't exactly here to make friends. I was here to find my girlfriend's killer.

That was the mantra I repeated in my head. This was not a vacation: no distractions, no friends…

…and no Elena.

This was about Katherine, like everything else in my life.

I loved her.