Caroline had told him to get back in his car and leave, something that Stefan was more than happy to oblige to. Having slipped Ivy's daylight ring under Caroline's door he knew that Caroline could handle her and take better care of Ivy than he ever could. She blamed him for her turning and he couldn't argue with her on that. But his mind was in overdrive right now, he blamed Enzo and Caroline for looking for him and then none of this would have happened. 

All he wanted was to start over with his own life, leave everything behind and leave Mystic Falls and his brother behind. But he couldn't help but think about Caroline's words, wishing that Damon would come back. But what good did wishes do? Nothing.

Stefan had wished and wished until he was blue in the face for his brother to come back. But it all fell on deaf ears, no one was listening to him, no one cared. The only other person that Stefan could take to about his brother had erased her memories.

She had taken the chance to take away all her pain. But what choice did Stefan have? He couldn't and didn't have the choice. He needed to have that pain, he needed to remind himself about why he was doing this. He needed that reminder and the memories of what was driving him to move on. Damon was gone and there was nothing that he could do to change that fact. Wishes, a genie or a magic looking glass couldn't change it, nothing could.

Taking s detour off the main highway that would lead him back to Savannah to his home so that he could pack up and leave. He found himself parked beside the entrance to the cemetery. Switching the ignition off, grabbing the bottle of bourbon from the passenger seat he hoped out of the car.

Leaning against the door he cracked the bottle of bourbon open and took a swig. It had been four months since he had been here, that night that he packed up what belongings he had and left Mystic Falls behind without saying goodbye to his brother.

It was just too painful for him to know that he was leaving his brother behind. Memories of sitting on the stone bench, stones tossed at him by his brother. A slight smirk spread across his face, he was there and although he couldn't see him Stefan knew he was there.

But then he was gone, his brother was dead. Flooded with guilt over the fact that is should have been him on the other side and not his brother. He had Lexi and would have found peace. But knowing that maybe his brother hadn't found peace before the other side crumbled and disappeared pained him intensely.

Stefan knew that Damon loved him, had fought to bring him back. Helping Bonnie after she stumbled had caused him to pass through her and back to life, a moment that should have gone differently. It should have been Damon, not him. But there was a whole load of what if's that fluttered through his mind.

Something that would trigger scenarios in his dreams, in his nightmares. His brother surrounded by fire calling for help and Stefan couldn't save him. Stefan couldn't save his brother. He had failed him. 

Stefan could remember all his childhood memories of when Damon took the wrap for him, stood against their father all because Stefan had broken one of his rules. It was always Damon, portrayed at the troubled son whilst Stefan was considered the perfect child. If only their father knew the truth.

Pushing himself from the car he made his way through the tree's, twigs snapping under the weight of his feet. Stones bounced of the base of the tree trunks as he made his way through the darkness.

Coming to a stop at his father's grave, his body buried away from the Salvatore family tomb. Once buried with Emily Bennett's grimoire filled with the clues on how to bring down the spell that kept the tomb vampires from 1864 locked away.

Believing that Katherine Pierce was trapped inside. Sighing to himself as he raised the bottle to his lips again draining some more of the bourbon. Memories flashed through his mind of his younger child years, hiding from his father as Damon sat by his side.

Stefan Salvatore, a young boy of seven cowered in the corner of his bedroom. Tears streaming down his face, his cheeks puffed and red. He had broken a treasured possession of his father's, an old broach that had been passed down through the generations of Salvatore's, a small bronze broach encrusted with the family crest. Stefan had broken the clasp after playing with it.

Rubbing his snotty nose on the sleeve of his shirt, salty tears streaming down his face as it clouded his vision. The door to the bedroom creaked open as Stefan's brother Damon entered the room "Stefan?" he called out looking for his brother.

Stefan sniffled again wiping away his tears as Damon spotted him in the corner. Closing the bedroom door and climbing over his bed to find Stefan in the corner "Stefan?" he repeated again "What's wrong?" he asked his younger brother

Stefan held the broken broach in his clasped hand as he pulled it from behind him and opened his hand to show his brother "Father's broach....I was....playing with it and....I-I broke it. I-I didn't mean too" he whimpered wiping away his tears again.

Damon picked up the broken broach between his fingers and dropped it in his shirt pocket "Father will never know Stefan. I promise" he smiled at his brother. Stefan sniffled again and wrapped his arms around his brother "I love you Damon. Your my favourite brother" he cried into his shoulder.

Damon hugged his brother tightly back "I love you to brother...And I am your only brother" he smirked making Stefan laugh. Stefan wiped his nose again giggling between tears "I'll protect you from father baby brother" he assured him and hugged him tighter.


Stefan moved on from his father's grave and began heading towards the Salvatore family tomb. He could instantly see the flickering candles burn through the windows. He knew that Elena had been visiting here quite a lot before Alaric had erased her memories but he did wonder who had lit the candles. Caroline? Sheriff Forbes? 

The door slowly creaked open as Stefan stepped inside the Salvatore tomb, a place where every member of his family lay in tombs. Just on the outskirts of Mystic Falls and the barrier that kept him from returning to the boarding house, his home. With a bottle of bourbon in his hand, his eyes glistened from the little light that the burning white candles gave. Letting out a pained sigh as he raised the bottle to his lips and drank several mouthfuls.