N: So, it turns out now that my crazy muse is out of retirement, I can't seem to stop her. I was at work the other day and this idea started forming in my mind.

Now, I know I haven't been writing in a while and it seems I have lost a lot of my readers, so a huge "please" goes out to those of you who are still reading my stories, please review! I know I am being needy, but I just need to know that I haven't lost all of you.

Enjoy!

The closest thing to what I want

Elena opened her eyes slowly and let out a loud, long moan as the light attacked her retinas. "Nooo," she moaned again placing her left hand over her eyes to block the unwanted rays of artificial light. Her right hand was still holding on tight to a large bottle of cheap whisky. The person responsible for the intruding light made his or her way towards the bed and Elena jumped out at the last second. In her rushed way towards the door, she collided with the wall and let out a sharp cry of pain. After a few more curses mumbled under her breath she placed her hands on the wall looking for the switch. "Where is the damn switch?" she asked frustrated moving her palms slowly up and down the cold surface of the wall. When she finally found the switch she lost no time in turning it off. As the semi-darkness set in, she turned her head towards the bed expecting to see Caroline or Alaric. They were both on her tail even since they realized she was spending all her free time drunk, closed in the small room of her newly compelled apartment. They don't get it and she stopped trying to explain that if she stays sober for more than a few hours she is losing her will to live. Technically she is not even alive, but even since she lost Damon, for the first time since she died and became a vampire she feels truly dead.

To Elena's great surprise, once she finally opened her eyes, she saw Stefan standing by the edge of the bed. "Stefan" she whispered softly, afraid that if she talked too loud she might scare him away. After Damon's death she waited week after week for him to come back, or at least call, but months had passed since then and she was starting to lose hope that he will ever come back. Now he was there in her room and everything she had been wanting to tell him since he left was lost somewhere in the deep corners of her mind. He looks just as bad as she feels. It's understandable. What Elena doesn't understand is why he pushed away the only person that could begin to understand what he was going through. Her.

The sight of him was enough to make her sober up. At least enough to make her way towards him without tripping. "Stefan?" this time when she said his name it came out more like a question. She wanted to ask if he was real, but she was a little afraid of the answer. She decided that even if he was a hallucination, she wanted him there. Once in front of him things changed tough, the relief that he was alright went away and all that was left was anger and frustration. She slapped him hard enough to draw blood, a part of her happy for the contact, because it meant he was real. Stefan didn't say anything, he just wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, just in time for her to slap him again. The second time there wasn't as much force behind it, because tears started pouring from her eyes and her hands started to shake slightly.

"I am sorry," Stefan whispered and with a loud sob, Elena threw herself in his arms. There were no sounds coming from Stefan, but Elena could feel his body shake with sobs the same way hers did.

"Where have you been?" She asked. Her voice was barely understandable, but he understood her loud and clear. He didn't answer, because he was afraid that if he spoke, she would pull away. He needed her too much. He hadn't been able to feel much of anything in months, but one look at her and it all came rushing back. Feeling her in his arms helped him breathe again. A part of him wondered if she might feel the same. Maybe there was still some love left in her heart that belonged to him. His brother was gone and Elena Gilbert was falling apart in his arms. He knew just what kind of person that made him, but he couldn't help but love her and need her more than ever.

"I was alone," she went on and his heart cringed in his chest. "I had no one. My brother was grieving Bonnie, Matt was too scared to live Mystic Falls, Caroline's camped outside the town she can no longer call home and Ric was dealing with being a vampire and putting his life back in line," she paused for a few seconds and Stefan knew it was his turn. "And you," sight, "…you were gone."

"I am so sorry," Stefan mumbled again. It might not change anything, but he meant it and he needed to tell it as many times as necessary for her to believe that.

***DE***

They spent the next few days in a state of continue drunkenness. Stefan told her stories about Damon and she held on to his every word as if the next story might bring him back from the dead. The only time they left the room was to buy more alcohol and Elena sometimes still showed up to her practical courses in the hospital to steal a few blood bags. Stefan was not eating much and when Elena asked why, he told her that going back to his ripper days was something he could do easily, but he didn't want to gamble Damon's sacrifice. Damon gave up his life to save his, he wasn't about to repay him by turning to his ripper ways. He wants more than anything to be strong for Elena because she needs him. It has been such a long time since she needed him, way longer than he cared to admit. Long before she was ready to see it, Damon had been the one she turned to when in need.

***DE***

It happened one night when they were both too drunk to remember their own name.

Elena was once again sitting in the middle of the bed with a photo of her and Damon in her hands when Stefan came back from the liquor store. Her thumb was caressing the slippery glass that was wet from her tears. Just like the other times, Stefan took the bottles in the kitchen and went to her room. At first he was hesitating, standing in the doorway and looking at her, his heart breaking over and over again, with each of her sobs. He could hear her mumbling desperate words, bagging his brother to come back to her. But how does one come back from the dead? She was talking to the picture in ways she never let herself talk to anyone else.

"You need to…you need to find your way back to me, Damon!" Her sobs got louder and Stefan noticed that her grip on the frame tightened. "I can't do this with_" she hiccupped softly. "-out you. Please!" she begged and that was when Stefan decided to make his way towards her. He took the picture out of her hand and placed it just a few centimetres in front of her on the bed. He took her shaky frame in his arms and she let him. Her wet cheek touched his, but he didn't care. And before he had the time to realize what was happening she was kissing him, pulling him closer, her fingers clinched around the collar of his shirt. For a few moments he was too shocked to react, but once the reality of what was happening settled in, he pushed her away.

"Elena."

"Please don't go!" she begged.

"I am not going anywhere, but this is wrong," Stefan said still keeping a fair distance between them as if he is afraid she might jump him again.

"I know. I am sorry," she started crying again. "It's just…you are…you are the closest thing to him that I have." The words hurt him, but it wasn't as if he didn't see it coming. Her hand found the frame once more. "How could you do that to me?" she asked.

"You can get mad at him, it helps," Stefan said and a sad smile reached Elena's lips.

"I did. Anger, denial, emptiness, acceptance," she sight. "The stages of grief. I go through them, but it doesn't end. It's like a sort of loop, I go through them over and over and over again." At her words Stefan looked away, fighting to supress his own grief because right now it's not about him, it's about her. "You know what's funny?" she asked without actually expecting an answer. "This picture," she picked up the framed picture from the bed. "This picture…talking to him, it's the only thing that manages to calm me down. Even now, he is still the only thing that can get me through." She turned to look at Stefan. "I am insane," she declared. "I sleep with his shirt, you know? I talk to a picture and I sleep with a shirt," she let out a laugh that was more heart racking than her sobs. "What kind of person does that? Not a sane one, right?" This time she looked at him as if she was expecting an answer, but he hasn't the slightest clue what he could tell her to make her feel better. "I tried. I can't do it. I can't let him go. But…how am I supposed to do this for eternity?"

"Then we have to find a way to get him back," Stefan said and Elena's eyes left the picture to look at him once more.

"What?"

"Well, you died twice and yet here you are. And Jeremy died and Bonnie brought him back. Twice. Bonnie, we thought she was gone forever, but we found a way. I don't imagine it will be easy, but we could try."

"Yes," she whispered, a spark Stefan hasn't seen in months appeared in her eyes.

"But, Elena, it might take years and still we might not find a way."

"I know. I want to try."

"Are you sure?" She asked.

"Yes. Are you?"

"Elena, he is my brother. He gave his life to save mine, yes, I am sure."

"Where do we start?"

"We start by packing."