Stefan's POV

My father used to say that a man should always stand up to his word; he should always protect his honor, because without it he's just not even half human. He used to teach Damon and me to be tough and to withstand whatever difficulties we faced in life with strength and persistence. He wanted us to be smart in hard times, to never panic-no matter what was happening. God knows that my father was an old drunk who drove around the country for work and came home for two months every year. He couldn't care less about us or our mother, but when he was home and he was sober, he always reminded us of those words-that a man shall be strong. Damon used to hate those moments. Since he was older, he could actually see that our father's babblings were nothing but the unaccomplished beliefs of a dirty old man who was never strong, nor was he standing up to his words. He lied to us all of the time about how he would finally become the father we'd been waiting for. He never did.

Damon always told me to never take his words seriously, that they didn't matter, we shouldn't listen to them, and we shouldn't want to live up to his expectations, but now, I realize that -maybe unwillingly- we both tried to do that. He was a man with very big pride, and so was I-it was a character trade we got from an old grandpa along the way, or at least that's what I thought. We were both stubborn-stubborn to keep going, to make our families proud of who we were. He was working his ass off for his wife and his kids because he loved them and he wanted to keep his word; he shall always take care of them until his last breath. He was indeed a strong man.

On the other hand, I wasn't. Things in my life turned somehow upside down and I could never appear as a reliable person anymore. Even by just looking at my posture anyone could conclude that I'm nothing but a half person wandering his way through this life. Whatever I did-I was doing it halfheartedly. It wasn't always like that, but now it is. I'm not the best at my workplace, I'm not as strong anymore, and I feel myself losing my pride. It gets smaller by the day and it bothers me.

I never envied my brother. I know I'm talking about it as if I do. The only thing I feel toward him is deep respect. I look up to him. I've always had. Every day, since we were little. I always messed something up or just remained silent for long periods, shutting myself from the whole world, but he would always come to find me when I was lost, and he had great patience with me. By nature he was wild and careless, but with me he was silent and careful. Once, when I was still in the hospital after the fight and he thought I was sleeping, I heard him tell Bonnie that I was his greatest weakness and that if something happened to me he would go out of his mind. And that was the point when I realized that I'd have to get myself together for him… because he was my greatest weakness too, and I wouldn't be able to withstand watching him suffer. I never cared; I could live through pain and get over it all, because it was happening to me, not to someone else.

After the accident happened, I realized that I could never become the man my father had described. There was simply no way for it to happen. I used to look myself in the mirror after I could finally stand up without anyone's help, and I would realize that I was broken, mostly on the inside, and I just couldn't fix things anymore. And I wanted to explain this to someone, but I just couldn't. There was no one to tell, because my brother was supposed to view me as hopeful, not realistic. So when I finally got over the fact that things would remain that way until the day I die, I decided that if I couldn't be strong and help my family like I was supposed to, I should at least try to be selfless.

It was three in the morning, and I just couldn't fall asleep. There was so much on my mind. I'd left Peter in my room and gave him some pills for the pain. He had a big fight with his father that night. Things weren't going well between them for the past couple of weeks, but I guess today things just got out of control. Everyone at my brother's factory knew that Thomas Fell didn't care about his younger son; he had many lovers and never came home—that, or he was on the road making deals across the country. I knew what people were saying about that family in my neighborhood. They all resented Thomas Fell and felt sorry for the boy unlucky enough to have him for a father. The Fells were a founding family, -very rich, just like the Gilberts—and they were important for the city, since so many people worked in the factory and their family gave money to the school. That was why Peter wasn't expelled up until now. And yet nobody liked them. It's natural for the simple people like us to either be indifferent towards those superior or to despise them, but we sure weren't supposed to like them. I found that to be pretty stupid, honestly, because we are all people. Rich or poor, it doesn't really matter. Our father was pretty realistic when it came to that subject, too. He told us one night, when he was very drunk, that nothing good would come out of us. We would not be important or rich. We would be just workers somewhere in some forgotten factory where they wouldn't even pay us regularly. We'd end up with a big family we couldn't feed with broken backs, and we'd curse the world around us. And both Damon and I despised him for those words.

Now I realize I was lucky. At least he was brutally honest, and from then on, we could try and do everything that was in our power to change his words, and there were times in both mine and my brother's life when we questioned if we could ever outsmart him. We wouldn't really say anything to each other. We would just sit at the kitchen table-him drinking bourbon, me having a beer- and we would just look at each other. We both knew what the other was thinking, but were too afraid to say it out loud. He stared at my bent figure and I stared at his. There were days we couldn't get up from bed because our backs hurt so much. And still we would believe it was worth it -him for Bonnie and James, me for his family and for my desire to help him and stand by my words that I would always be there him no matter what.

But Peter? Peter had no one. His aunt Emma was too far away, and the only other person he could talk about his home life with was me. There were so many times I found him beyond desperate that I just stopped count them. I knew, God, I knew why it was like that, and yet I couldn't see what I could do except listen and hand him a bottle of whatever alcohol he was up for drinking that night. I hated encouraging his habit, and I cursed myself for helping him ruin his life. I had so much guilt for that; it was adding to the weight I carried with me every day. Tonight? Tonight things just got out of control, and as he called me to come get him from his house, I was pretty terrified because he'd never sounded like this before. When I finally saw him with his bloodied face and the tears he was desperately trying to hold back, I almost went out of my mind. His head was cracked somewhere on the right side of his forehead, and he was barely standing on his feet, since he had lost some blood. I took off my shirt and made him keep it on the wound while he was trying to explain me what had happened. I helped him into Damon's truck, and I started driving towards the hospital.

It was hard for him to form sentences, and he definitely didn't seem eager to talk about it either, but the fact that he was in pain helped me get the truth out. His father had come home, -obviously quite drunk- and they got into another fight, as they usually did, though this time it was bigger. He'd told Peter that nothing good would come out of him and that he was too dumb. That's why he was fooling around with a ball, pretending to be a player, he'd said, when he was nothing but the greatest disappointment ever to be born. That's the exact quote. Peter got mad and spoke up to him, though if the situation was different he would've just shut up and gone back to his room. Tonight, he was on edge, I guess. His father caught his elbow and Peter tried to get free, but instead, he was pushed backwards. He'd tripped and hit his head on some edge.

I put up a tough act in front of him because I wasn't supposed to panic, but when the blood started coloring his clothes –and mine-, I got pretty nervous. I reminded myself that it was not the time to be weak, so I talked him calmly and tried to make him relax a little, because his expression was so scared and stunned that I wasn't sure he realized what was even going on. Once the doctor got him in a room, I pressed my back to the cold white wall and thanked God that we managed to get here.

I was sure that now that he'd been taken care of, the wound would heal, but the look in his eyes bothered me; he was shattered. It wasn't just one of their family fights. This time it was serious, and I knew it. I couldn't figure out what to do. He had admitted that his father had told him that he didn't want to see him anymore, and all the way home, Peter kept repeating "I'm never going back there. I'm not going," and I knew he was serious, not because he was stubborn as hell, but because I would never let him go back to that house. Never again.

I was so mad and desperate I couldn't figure out what to do so I kept walking up and down the hallways while he was still inside and eventually, after many debates in my own head, decided that I have to call someone, I had to do something. He was my friend. He found me in the most desperate of times, when I couldn't even walk straight home and I owed him so much.

I felt that if I call Emma she'll just start panicking on the phone and I won't be able to tell her what he needs and what's exactly even going on. So I called his cousin Theo-he was pretty cool, at least from all my interactions with him and he cared about Peter. He considered him his little brother, they were close and they talked every now and again, though Theo was busy with university now. It was around midnight so I waited quite some time until he finally picked up. As soon as he remembered who I was his voice changed-he could tell there was something wrong. Despite of everything that I told him he managed to remain calm and asked me to take care of Peter until tomorrow, which wasn't a problem at all, I had no intentions of letting him out of my sight. After they let my friend go, while being pretty seduced from the painkillers, I took him home and put him to my bed. I talked to Bonnie and explained her all and she stood up with me for quite a while but then left me because James woke up and she had to put him back.

I couldn't stop thinking though. I couldn't sleep. My clothes were still covered in already dried blood and just by looking at it I felt so desperate, so empty, so helpless. It didn't make me sick, it disgusted me that someone could actually treat his child like that and bring him to such an edge that he's so lost and confused and can't tell what is real and what not. How can you break someone like this? How do you have the heart to do so? Moreover-where was his mother right now? Where on earth was she and why did she stop caring about him? And his brother-who was the utter copy of their father-was he so blind, could he not see?

How do you leave your love ones behind and just stop caring? How can you not have a heart?

It's one thing to be honest with someone but completely another to remind them all their life that they suck and they are not good enough in anything. I made the decision that night that I'll keep him away from his father no matter what, even if Emma can't take him in, I'll figure something out, I'll help him, I had to.

Sometimes the single sentences break you down. Bring you back to reality, shove it down your throat and make you accept it not matter if you want it or not. It has happened so many times that I've hated it already, I despised it. I didn't need any conformation that the world sucks, I knew it, I've embraced it, I've come to terms with it.

I've realized it and let it sink. And yet it still surprises me every time. The look in my friend's eyes-the complete emptiness and despair-that drove me to an edge and made me ask myself so many stuff again. It just wouldn't let me sleep.

I wished so much that Elena was here right now. But it was four in the morning and I couldn't call her right now since she has probably spend the better part of the night studying. I just craved for her touch right now, for her hands buried in my hair and her lips burning up everything inside me. Yet I didn't want to worry her, she had enough on her plate. I would call her tomorrow, after things have settled down a bit and Peter was feeling better. Hopefully I wouldn't fall asleep every time I would sit down. I had some training with all the night shifts and the lack of sleep.

I remembered the first time I got back from a twelve hour shift, and Damon and Bonnie saw me looking like I'd been beaten to death, with cuts all over my hands. They both felt sorry for me. Bonnie made me sit down on our kitchen table and cleaned my cuts while my brother handed me a beer.

"Forget all our father's lessons," he said. "That's how I see it: life is cruel and you won't get anything for free. If you somehow do, you'll pay for it with the sweat on your back and the blood on your hands. Remember this, because knowing it makes you smart, and pretending to forget about it turns you into a fool."

He had squeezed my shoulder and messed my hair with his own swallowed from the work fingers in order to encourage me.

I remember this day very clearly. I can feel his tight grip on my shoulder as if it happened a few hours ago, and not years back.

I remember it because it was the last day I spent as a boy.

Peter's POV

I woke up with a dull pain in my head. My eyes opened up unwillingly after someone's gently squeezed my shoulder.

"Peter? You up?" Stefan's tired face finally cleared before me, and he smiled encouragingly while I tried to sit up with his arm supporting my back. I felt dizzy all of a sudden and caught my head with my free hand. He didn't say anything, only his grip tightened a little more, and I felt him tense. He patiently waited until it wasn't black in front me anymore. Then he sat beside me.

"How do you feel?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

"Good…I'm good," I responded and tried to give him an appreciative smile, though I knew I couldn't delude him. I was broken. In every way. I wasn't the boy from yesterday morning who didn't care and denied the reality in which he lived.

Now, I cared and it hurt, because my father had told me the truth. And that was killing me.

He didn't consider me to be his son. I would never make him proud, no matter what. I was a disappointment, the greatest failure in his life. He had let me go, kicked me out of his house. He didn't care about me. I always thought that he was just cold and distant and that deep down he maybe felt something about his younger son. Now, however, I knew that this was simply a dream of mine-something I desired very much, but something that would never happen. Just like the boy next to me, whose hopes and dreams were all crushed. The only difference between us was that he'd been strong enough to keep going while I had no reason to do so.

"Peter…I called Theo last night," he sighed but didn't look up. Instead, he kept staring at his feet with his fists clenched. He was still angry about everything that had happened last night. I bet he was madder than I would ever be. He was beyond selfless in every aspect of life, so when he'd found me covered in blood and had figured out the whole, story he probably felt helpless."He and Emma will be here in a few hours."

I didn't say anything. I didn't know if I even should have. He was just trying to be my best friend, to take care of me.

"Are you mad?" he asked cautiously.

"No, not at all. You did the right thing. I can't go back in that house."

"You won't." He put his hand on my shoulder again and squeezed it. "I won't ever let you do that, you hear me?"

I ran my hands through my hair again and felt the big bandage around my head. I was weak and tired. I felt so helpless, so sad, so trapped. I moved my palm down my forehead in order to cover my eyes. I didn't want him to see the tears in my eyes, but he sensed it all. He always did.

Yet he didn't say a word. He knew there was no point in that, that it would lead to nothing. No words could fix this situation. No one's thoughts could make a father love his child, no sentence could make the night disappear, no word could cover the big scar that I would carry on my forehead forever. He knew it, because he had been in my place. He had felt lost and confused and alone. So, he just removed my hand gently from my face and held it tight while my tears fell down.

"I just want it to be over with," I let out, barely audible.

"It will be. We'll figure it out, don't worry."

I shook my head in despair

"It's not just that, Stefan. You know it's not just that."

"Don't you dare believe any of the bullshit your father spilled out last night, you hear me?" I didn't respond and continued staring at my torn socks.

"Stefan, I appreciate you trying to make me-"

"I'm not trying to do anything," he interrupted harshly. "I just don't want you to believe those things, because if you do, they start having power over you. They can drown you and bring you to the worst of places. I've been there, Peter, and trust me, you don't want that." He let a deep sigh out and let go of my hand. "You're not alone. I'm here. Theo and Emma will come. We'll all figure it out, yeah? You won't go back there, ok?"

I nodded but didn't look up, since there were still tears coming down, and I was beyond embarrassed. He knew it, too, so he just patiently waited until I felt it was enough, and the weight inside me became a little lighter. I brushed my face with the back of my t-shirt, and he let a deep, annoyed sigh out.

"We have tissues in this house, just so you know." I finally looked up and saw him giving me one of his sad smiles. He wanted to lighten up my mood. "Come on. Let's go to the kitchen. Bonnie has made some pancakes."

We went to the kitchen where his sister-in-law has set a table full of food, and his little nephew was eating up his own pancake while staring at some cartoon on TV. As soon as he saw, Stefan he stretched his hands towards him and said something which surprisingly almost sounded like his name. Stefan picked him up and put him in his lap while stretching to get his own pancake from across the table. He seemed so natural with the kid, as if he were holding a stuffed animal and not a human being. The boy would try to tear Stefan's shirt buttons up while Stefan tickled him every once in a while, which made James produce sweet laughter. I was staring at them and realized how innocent they both were in this moment. I was witnessing the best of life in front of me: two people who were happy.

Bonnie was very nice to me as well. She asked if I needed anything and wanted to know how I was feeling without intruding in any way. I'm not sure whether Stefan told her the whole story or not, but she sure didn't need to know it. She trusted him enough to take his lead and understand that if I was there and looking like this, there was a pretty good reason why. Stefan being Stefan wouldn't leave me somewhere outside in the cold winter night like my father did.

Around noon, Theo and Emma arrived at the house. Bonnie had gone outside with the kid, and Stefan and I were the only ones left. We'd spent the entire morning watching old basketball games on TV and arguing about certain stuff. Stefan was desperately trying to cheer me up, and for a moment there I indeed forgot what had occurred. Until they came, of course.

Emma was beyond worried. When she saw me, her hands almost started shaking, which made me feel guilty. Theo, of course, being the responsible and wise well-balanced person he was, hugged me supportively and gave me a small smile just like Stefan did. They were both the closest things to brothers I've had in my life. I'd never count my biological one because he just didn't care about anything but money and success.

We sat down on the table and talked for a while, mainly me trying to explain to them exactly what had happened. There were moments when I found it hard to continue, and Stefan would help out by either changing the subject or just saying it all as it was, without fear of the words and the weight they carried.

They wanted to take me with them to Charleston for the next week, and I agreed to it even though I wasn't sure how good the idea was. Emma assured me that we'd figure out what to do since I couldn't go with them right now. I honestly didn't want to. My life was here. I was playing basketball for the school team and I was soon to graduate. I didn't want to change the place right now. If I left, it would mean my father had defeated me, and I didn't want to give him this pleasure. I wanted to stay and fight for what I had. I couldn't let him take it all away from me, no matter how little it was.

Stefan sent us to the car, and we talked some more.

"There's a big basketball game in two days," Theo said and looked up at Stefan. "Why don't you come so you two can watch it together?" I knew why he said this. He felt that Stefan had a good influence on me and wouldn't let me sink in my sad thoughts.

"Stefan has work, Theo," I started, but Emma interrupted me this time

"You should definitely come. I'll prepare Peter's favorite, and when you come back from the game, we can all eat together."

"Ok, then," Stefan said appreciatively with smiled in my direction. "That's a good idea."

"Stefan you don't have to…" I started, but he shook his head and went in close to hug me goodbye. He was tired as hell; I could tell from his sad, hardly concentrated look and slow pace. Yet his grip was tight again. He wanted to make me believe that it was all good and it was all fine for him... That he wouldn't just leave me alone now that I was going away for a while. "See you, brother," I whispered whilst bending on the last word. I wanted to show him how lost I would've been if he hadn't taken care of me the last night.

"Hold on, brother," he responded with his serious, hoarse voice. "See you in two days," he added and smiled again. As we went into the car, I turned around to see if he had gone back inside, but he was still there, on the sidewalk in front of their small house, waving at me with that sad but calm expression on his face as if he wished to say "Don't worry, Peter, it's all gonna be good. Nothing a beer and a cigarette wouldn't fix," but this time, it was complicated. Things were messed up.

I was messed up, and there was no amount of liquor in the world that could ever fix it.

Elena's POV

Stefan finally returned my calls in the afternoon on a beautiful and relatively warm Sunday. I'd caught him asleep and immediately regretted calling, though I was relieved to hear his voice. He sounded very tired, but he tried to cheer me up here and there by asking how I was until I finally made him spill on what was going on. He explained that there'd been a big fight in Peter's house last night, and he had had to take care of him. He didn't even notice that his phone wasn't in the pocket of his jeans, and he didn't call since he assumed he would have woken me up.

He sounded sad, and I realized that he needed me there even though he wanted me stay home and study, but I didn't want to leave him. I felt his desperation and I needed to be in his embrace, just to make sure he would be fine.

In an hour or so, I was at his house and found him smoking on their front porch, sitting on the old uncomfortable chairs they brought with them from Chicago. He smiled and put his coffee cup down as I approached him. I leaned down to kiss him since I didn't want him to stand up just because of me. I knew he'd been in a lot of pain lately.

"Hey there, handsome."

"How's the most beautiful girl doing today?" he responded, finally letting me go and pullong up another chair next to his.

"I'm fine. But you look like crap," I let out as I leaned on his shoulder so he could put his arm around me. He smelled so good; he'd probably just showered, since his hair looked a little wet. I inhaled deeply and hugged myself closer as he put a kiss on my forehead.

"I'm fine. I just haven't slept, is all, " he responded, and we remained silent for a while, just watching the empty street before us and enjoying the few warm sunrays coming to this side of the house. I closed my eyes in an attempt to forget about the present, but I could feel him beside me, too tense and obviously worried. His mind wasn't at rest.

"Is Peter better?"

"Physically, yes. As for the rest… I can't really tell."

"I'm sure he'll be fine." I tried to encourage him, but he shook his head in disbelief.

"I'm not. This really broke him." I found his hand and we intertwined our fingers, while the silence around us desperately tried to absorb our grief and turn it into one whole thing so it would be easier to withstand.

"You'll help him," I whispered reassuringly while he was gently caressing my back. I loved it when he did that; it made me feel warmer and safer.

"I'm not sure I can this time."

"Stefan, you are not a superhero," I spoke up with the intention of being nothing but honest. "You can't just go to some place and make everything alright. People's lives screw up, and you can't be there all the time. You can't save everyone. You know that, right?" I tried to sound calm, though I was a little pissed off that he was feeling guilty before something had even happened. Again.

"I do. But it doesn't mean I can't keep trying to do something," he responded, completely calm.

"And you are." I looked up, and he gently leaned down to give me a kiss. "You helped me, and you keep helping Peter. You support your family. Stop bashing on yourself. You are doing it right."

"Right and wrong don't matter when things are messed up, and I can't figure out a way to fix them."

"Sometimes all a person needs is someone to be there for them... Like I am now here with you and you were with me on that back porch after we met, right? Words don't mean anything. Actions do. The road you take is the one that reflects on the people around you." He suddenly tensed, and I figured his thoughts had probably gone in a completely different direction. He wasn't thinking about Peter anymore. I knew it, because I was thinking of the same thing too: that he was going to leave and that would change things.

"Am I a coward, Elena?" he finally asked after some time full of silence.

"Stefan..." I shook my head as he looked away from me and ran his hand through his messy hair, only to make it look even more ridiculous. I tightened my grip on him in order to bring him back to reality. He shouldn't have been thinking about that at all. He should have been there with me, enjoying the afternoon and observing as the day turned to night. "Don't go there."

"Leaving is something a coward would do. I left Chicago after my life had turned upside down, and now what? I'm going to go back there because it could fix things? It wouldn't, since you're here now…"

"But I will leave, too," I reminded him of the truth. "You have to stop questioning your decisions."

"I am not. That's the problem. I still believe it's right to go. I feel like that on the inside, but then what does that make me?"

"It makes you human," I whispered, and this time he turned his look back, a little surprised by my words. "How can you say that you're coward when all you do is the complete opposite? You never think of yourself. You go to work when you should be staying at home, you help your friend train when you should be sleeping, you watch your nephew when you should be studying, you give me all your love, and forget to love yourself? You do all this and yet you say you're a coward? How is any of that cowardly?"

"You're making me look too good." he smiled and pressed his forehead next to mine. "I am not the person you described. I do all of it, but I mess up in the process."

"Don't we all mess up?"

"We do," he let a small laugh out , "but not like that, Elena. I'm not afraid that I'm messing up with everything else… I just don't want to mess up with you. And you know why. You do."

"I do?" I smiled this time as well, and he hugged me closer.

"Yeah, you do. We are just too screwed up to say it out loud, but you know it." I embraced his neck with my hands and hopped up in his lap in order to finally give him a long, passionate kiss. I was scared, because I knew what he meant, and I wondered if he was ready to say it out loud or if he was being nervous too. I hugged him and he held me tight in his arms.

"I need time."

"That's ok. I need time as well," he responded, and I could tell that he was giving me one of his patient smiles, although I couldn't really see it. We remained like this for a while, and I closed my eyes. I swear I could probably fall asleep right there in his lap, and it would have brought me the sweetest dreams, but we were interrupted by Bonnie opening the door.

I suddenly jumped away from him, and he was pretty startled as well. However, she smiled at me as I was trying to find a place to bury my shaking hands, and eventually I shoved them into my back jeans pockets while Stefan stood up abruptly and had to catch the chair's back so he wouldn't fall. I furrowed my eyebrows at this, but tried to look charming, for I realized that Bonnie was staring at us both. Stefan's cheeks were burning.

"Hello, Mrs. Salvatore," I mumbled, pretty confused. I put my a few strands behind my ear.

"Hey, Elena." She smiled and crossed her hands across her chest a little angrily "I've told you to call me Bonnie, right?"

"Yeah, yeah you have." I tried smiling, but I'm not sure I managed. I was a little embarrassed when it came to talking to Stefan's family. I was never as good as he was when he had to have a conversation with Jenna. I was just so afraid I'd screw things up.

"Stefan? Why don't you and Elena come inside so we can have dinner.Your brother's been nagging about being hungry for the last half an hour. And we would finally have the chance to get to know each other, right? You've been here already, and yet we haven't really talked," she said as she pierced her brown eyes at me again. I looked up at Stefan, and we both exchanged nervous glances, but he sneaked his hand close to mine, and our fingers intervened.

"Yeah, sure." He felt my inability for a response right now. As we went inside, Bonnie rushed to the kitchen while I was keeping up with Stefan's slow pace. "Relax, Elena. They don't bite," he whispered.

"I know I'm just… afraid that I might not live up to their expectations."

"You're beautiful, and you're smart." We were almost before the kitchen door, and I could hear the child's voice from inside. "They'll love you."

We finally went in, only to find the rest of his family at the table. The boy was in his kiddy chair while his brother was sitting on the main seat, looking pretty tired himself, but he smiled as Stefan and me appeared hand-in-hand. He nodded and greeted me politely. James had seen me before, but he probably didn't remember very well, so he looked up to his mother, confused as to who this person was.

"Momma?" he said confusedly, but she made him stay silent as she put another bite in his mouth, and he stared back at the TV screen.

At first, there was a bit of uncomfortable silence, but Bonnie made everything feel normal. She started asking me many questions which I found to be perfectly ok. She wanted to know me better.

"So, Elena, what do you want to study?"she asked as she passed the salad.

"Jeez, leave the girl alone," said Damon. "You'll scare her off, and Stefan will be a pain in the ass again."

"I'm not a pain in the ass," he objected with his mouth half-full. He was pretty hungry and was cleaning up his plate with unimaginably high speed.

"Sure you are." They were bugging each other like little kids, and James was watching them with both excitement and confusion.

"That's all fine." I smiled again, trying to look confident and in control. "I want to be a doctor."

"She's going to study in New York," Stefan added as, destroying whatever food there was left in his plate. "She's pretty smart."

"I can see that," Damon said. "That's a good thing. At least one of you has brains."

"I'm really not that smart. Stefan is exaggerating," I said shyly.

"I am definitely not. She's a straight A student."

We talked about Jenna some, and Bonnie said she had seen her a few times in town while I joked that Stefan seemed like he'd pass out when she giving him the pre-date speech, and they all laughed.

"Stefan mentioned that you have relatives in Denver, right?" Bonnie was on an asking spree again.

"Oh yeah, a bunch of cousins, but the oldest ones are in the military, so I don't see them very often."

"Really?" Damon asked, surprised "Did Stefan tell you that he wanted to join the army, too?"

Stefan moved uncomfortably on the chair next to me as I looked at him surprised.

"No, he definitely missed that."

"Well… it was an old dream of mine. I sent my papers at the beginning of the first senior year I had," he smiled trying to sound as if he was fine with it, "and received back an answer after it was impossible to enlist already."

"It was for the better," Bonnie said and turned towards me. "We didn't want to send him. I was very much against it."

"So was I," Damon added. "He is too good to kill people."

"Will you stop embarrassing me in front of my girlfriend?" he asked, trying to sound cheerful, but I knew that this brought only sad thoughts, and he was thinking again about how he was not the man he should have been. I was also stunned by the last word he used but was too busy thinking about him to even let it sink in.

"I think Stefan is good, and he's also brave so… he would've made a great soldier," I said out loud, and the table suddenly became strangely silent. Our looks met and Stefan leaned over to kiss me gently on the cheek to express his gratitude.

"You're probably right." Bonnie finally cleared the confusion and stood up to put some food on her husband's plate.

"I'm still fine with him doing the job he has now," Damon mumbled while staring down at his plate

"Oh yeah? I'm more of an unload boy now. I haven't carved anything in months." I could catch the disappointment in his voice

"That's not true," Bonnie disagreed, turning towards me. "He's been making the kids' beds. And he still doesn't want to show me."

"That's because they are not ready. When I'm done I'll bring them up here so you can decide where to put them. I'm sure that'll take more than one day."

We talked a lot, and I found Bonnie to be really nice. Damon was overprotective of Stefan, and he sure as hell wasn't fine with him leaving, but he was trying to put up a tough face for the sake of everyone.

James was literally in love with his uncle, and he stretched his hands in Stefan's direction a few times until Bonnie finally handed him over, and he hugged himself in his strong embrace. I wasn't that good with kids and wasn't sure how to act around James, but I followed Stefan's lead and joked around with him for a while until he got tired and his mother went to put him to bed.

Damon switched on the sports channel, and they argued about some football teams while I leaned my head on Stefan's shoulder. I was so tired, and he excused us both so we could go outside again. I was trembling a lot because I'd put on only my sweater on the way there since it was still warm. The evening stole the sunrays, and I shivered from the cold. He took his jacket and put it on me.

"Stefan, you need it tomorrow. You'll go to work."

"It's fine, I'll take Damon's. I'm not letting you go like this." He made me turn towards him and brought me up for a kiss.

"Stefan?"

"Yeah?" he asked as I turned my back to him again. He embraced my shoulders in order to make me feel warm. We were observing the end of the day and I caught him staring at the stars as if he were looking for something specific, yet the sad smile on his face showed his realization that he probably wouldn't be able to, since everything around and above us was too big for a human being to find one single lost thing up there.

"You called me your girlfriend." I blushed as I spoke the words

"Is that ok with you?" he whispered in my ear.

"Totally." I smiled and put my hands on his strong arm which had come across my chest.

We observed the sky for the next ten minutes or so until I finally made him let go of me, because otherwise we would have stayed like that all night. He waited until I got in the car and gave me one last kiss from the window.

I drove away unwillingly, craving his embrace and the sweet, warm kisses he left down my neck all the way to my shoulder.