Stefan let out a long breath, and he held her tightly against him for one more moment, and then he let her go. “No,” he said softly, sorrowfully. “I’m only visiting, and we don’t have long.”
Elena knelt and felt around on the floor for the candle. When her hands finally closed around it, she stood and dug the matches out of her purse to relight the flame.
When the candle was lit once more, she could see Stefan. He was there, watching her with his leaf-green eyes. She’d never thought she’d see them again.
“We tried,” she said, gasping. It seemed important that he know this. “Bonnie and I, we tried to reach you. And you weren’t anywhere. Do you mean to tell me that all I had to do was come here?”
Stefan had been watching her gravely, his eyes sad, his perfect mouth with its little sensual curve, turned down. “I guess so,” he said. “Or rather, when you were ready to come here, I could, too.”
Not wasting another moment, Elena stepped forward and caught him in a kiss. “I’ve missed you so much,” she said, half-laughing, half-crying against his lips. “This—to see that you’re okay, that you’re not just… gone.”
Stefan pressed his lips against hers and Elena fell into the kiss, feeling his love and longing, the sorrow he felt at having left her and the joy that she had survived, that she was turning her face back toward the sun, finding pleasure in life again.
When they broke the kiss, he held her close. “I’m all right,” he said. “I’ve gone on, but it’s okay. I’ll always love you.” Elena gave a half-sob, reaching up to stroke his cheek, touch his hair, reassure herself that he was there.
Stefan caught her hand and kissed it. “Listen, Elena,” he said softly. “I don’t want you to stop because of me. You’re going to live forever, Elena, you have to live. You can’t pretend I’m coming back.”
Elena opened her mouth to speak, but Stefan shook his head. “If it’s Damon… We were all tangled up when I was alive, but now…” He shrugged. “He’s always understood parts of you that I didn’t, and he loves like he does everything else. With all he has.”
Elena shook her head. It felt wrong to think about this, talk about this, with Stefan in her arms. “I want you,” she said. “I didn’t stop loving you. I won’t.”
Stefan pulled her closer, dropped a kiss on the crown of her head. “You don’t have to. But you don’t have to mourn me forever, either.”
He was already fading. She tried to hold onto him, but it was like holding onto a shadow. He lowered his mouth and kissed her one last time, sweet but barely there. “It’s up to you,” he told her. “But know I’m all right. And tell Damon I’m sorry for all the bad blood between us. We were brothers again, by the end.”
“I will, Stefan, I will.” Elena was sobbing freely, trying to hold onto Stefan as his image wavered, his voice getting softer.
“Live well, Elena. I’ll always love you.”
And then Stefan was gone.
#TVD12TheGoodbye
Three hours later, Elena was back in Dalcrest. Dawn was breaking, and sleepy birds began chirping to each other in the trees as she let herself into the apartment.
Damon was standing by the windows in the living room, waiting for her. She stopped and stared at him, struck anew by how beautiful he was—fine boned and sleekly arrogant—and how different from classically profiled, noble-faced Stefan.
“Are you okay?” he asked. Elena realized she must look a mess, her gown stained with the dust of the uninhabited house, her eyes wild, her hair disheveled, her face streaked with tears.
“I’ve always loved you,” she said. “I won’t ever stop loving Stefan, but that doesn’t mean my feelings for you are any less.”
For a moment, Damon’s eyes shone and a soft smile broke over his face.
But then he hesitated, and his gaze clouded over. Stefan. Like a shout, the word hung in the air between them. Elena knew that, somehow, loving her felt like more of a betrayal to him than it ever had when Stefan was alive.
“I saw Stefan,” she said. “Stefan’s ghost. He was in my house in Fell’s Church. He couldn’t stay long, but he was there.”
Damon sucked in a startled breath. For a moment, his expression was full of wonder and alarm, and then it went smooth and perfectly blank, the way it always did when Damon was concealing strong emotion.
“No,” Elena said sharply, and took a quick step across the living room to grab hold of Damon’s arm. “No, he was fine. He seemed… content. He wants us to be happy. He wants me to keep living, to go after what I want.” She tried to smile at Damon, although her face felt stiff and strange. “He had a message he wanted me to give you.”