Damon lead Stefan down the long, dimly lit hallway towards their mother's room. Her health had deteriorated over the last few weeks, and she'd asked to see her sons one last time. He had lived there his whole life yet Damon never noticed how dreary the hallway to his parent's room appeared. As they approached the room, their father was exiting with bloodshot eyes. He moved past them as if they didn't even exist. Damon stopped to stare at his father, as he passed by, while their servant Hetty took Stefan by the hand and led him to their mother's room.

Damon followed his father down the stairs, watching in stunned disbelief, as his father grabbed his coat to leave. "Father where are you going?'

Guisseppe simply replied, "Out."

Shocked, Damon said, "But mother is dying."

Not looking at Damon, he continued to put on his coat, scarf, and hat to leave. Harshly, he replied, "We all die son. No point in dwelling on it."

Appalled by his father's callousness, Damon yelled, "She needs you! How can you just leave her to die alone?"

Guisseppe was infuriated by his son's tone. He rushed over to Damon, grabbing him by the shirt and smacking him upside his head. "How dare you use that tone with me! Show some respect!"

Damon reeled back from the slap that left his head ringing. Tears burned his eyes and he gritted his teeth. He said, "Yes, father." He backed away, and then ran upstairs.

He stopped just outside his mother's room. He slid to the floor with his back against the wall, to wait for his mother to finish talking to Stefan. He could hear her struggle to speak, as her coughing and wheezing increased with the effort. He heard her tell Stefan, "I will not be around much longer to look after you. So mind your father and look to Damon for guidance. I want you to know how much I love you, and that I will always watch over you." At just 6 years old, Stefan couldn't fully comprehend why his mother was telling him these things. He knew that she had been sick with a 'cold', but he didn't understand the gravity of the situation. Damon being 6 years his senior understood all too well. The pneumonia had damaged their mother's lungs to the point that she wouldn't survive much longer. He knew his father would never discuss it, and it would be up to him to explain it to Stefan when he got older.

He heard his mother kiss Stefan goodbye and telling him to "be brave". Hetty escorted Stefan from the room and informed Damon that his mother was ready to see him. Hesitantly, he entered the room. He was overwhelmed by the sense of dread at the thought of saying goodbye to his mother. As he approached, his mother motioned for him to sit on the bed beside her.

"Come closer son." She brushed a piece of his wavy jet black hair away from his forehead then ran her hand down his cheek lovingly. The blue eyes they shared filled with tears, reflecting the sorrow she saw in his eyes. "My sweet Damon. I love you so much." She smiled weakly and began coughing uncontrollably. Concerned, Damon handed her a cloth from the bedside table. When she regained her breath, and pulled the cloth away from her mouth, he could see the bright red blood that covered it. She struggled to speak. "Promise me that you will look after your brother. Your father's punishments can be harsh, but he means well."

Softly, Damon replied, "I will mother. I wish you did not have to die. I will be so alone without you."

"You still have your father and brother who love you."

Damon lowered his head in sorrow. "Father hates me. He says I am nothing but a disappointment to him."

"Oh son, your father does not hate you. He just has difficulty showing his emotions."

He scoffed, "He does not have trouble showing me his anger."

She coughed again, spitting up more blood. She managed to regain her breath enough to continue. "He is just intimidated by your courage to stand up to him. He is not used to being challenged."

Shame graced Damon's face. He bowed his head with regret. "I am sorry mother. I try to obey him, I really do. It is just how can I follow something I truly believe is wrong?"

"Following what is in your heart is part of who you are Damon. Never apologize for that."

"Father said it is what makes me weak."

She smiled sweetly. "No son, it is what makes you strong. Fighting for what you believe is right no matter the personal cost is a heavy burden to bear." She wheezed out, "You have good instincts and sound judgement. You are fiercely protective of those you love. And you never break your word. These are admirable qualities. You will grow up one day to be a fine man and good father. I will always be proud of you son."

A tear ran down Damon's cheek. "What will I do without you mother?"

She wiped away the tear as she struggled again to speak. "As long as I am in your heart, you will never be without me." Her name Luciana meant 'gracious light' and stood for hope. She was the only one who ever truly believed in Damon.

He asked, "Can I stay with you a while?"

She touched his face once more, as tears welled in her eyes at her son with the big heart. "I would like that son," she said.

Damon woke up in a haze. He had no idea how much time had passed, or why his father hadn't dragged him out of the room. Sitting in the chair beside his mother's bed, the last thing he remembered was resting his head on the bed. He must have dozed off while his mother stroked his hair. He only woke up when Hetty gently shook him. She said, "Master Damon, she is gone."

He blinked away the sleep from his eyes to look at his mother's pale, lifeless body. His lips quivered, as tears sprang uncontrollably from his eyes, and ran down his cheeks. He reached to touch her hand, recoiling briefly at the cold feel of her skin. He leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on her head. "Rest in peace mother." Hetty had stopped the clock at the time she died. As Damon rose to leave, he glanced at the clock. The time of death was 12:15 am.

Damon jolted awake, momentarily disoriented. A dream. It had been just a dream. No, it was a memory. It was a memory he had pushed from his mind for nearly a century. Why had he recalled it now? He looked at the clock...12:15 am. Weird. Elena stirred next to him, mumbling something incoherent. He looked over at her sleeping figure. God, how much he loved her. He would do whatever it took to keep her and their son safe. His mother's words of encouragement rang in his ears. He would not fail them even if he died in the process. He rolled over and gently stroked Elena's hair. No, he would not fail them.