Barely A Memory

Chapter 4

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Elena was nearly about to collapse, feeling as if she'd completely overdosed on hope. Stefan didn't remember her. In fact, he had no clue who she even was. They were right back in 2009, at the cemetery on that chilly September afternoon, but even then, Stefan had had his eyes on Elena for quite some time. He had known so much about her, whereas she knew nothing about him... and now, the tables were turned.

She knew everything about Stefan Salvatore. Everything. She knew what he loved, what he hated. She knew that he loved to sleep in but woke up early anyways. As much as he loved sleep, there was nothing he adored more than waking in time to see the sunrise... to see her wake up, and to be the very first thing she saw. Even simpler, Elena knew that Stefan didn't like the color 'periwinkle' because of its obnoxious name. She knew what made him happy, what haunted him, and –far too late—what was capable of destroying him.

Now, Stefan was the one who was completely clueless about Elena. He didn't even know the things that she knew about himself. He was haunted by nothing and broken by nothing. He was standing before her with no recollection of her love, of the pain she'd caused him.

"Elena," he repeated her name, –just like he had with Damon's—trying to get the syllables to naturally flow off of his tongue. She shuddered at how foreign it sounded. "E-le-na."

Her chest tightened. This was too much. Desperately, afraid that she was actually going to pass out this time, she reached for something to hold onto, and Damon hurried over and wrapped his arms around her to steady her. Elena released a quiet sigh. Had part of her hoped that some instinct would have kicked in and Stefan would have been the one to hold her?

Instead, the younger Salvatore watched this exchange and smiled a little bit. He actually smiled, and it was genuine. Elena felt sick. If only Stefan remembered just how the two of them had gotten into each other's arms in the first place...

"Are you two together?" Stefan asked, and Elena cringed. His words almost seemed to be an interested attempt at small talk. There was no accusation, no suspicion, not even loss in his voice. She wanted to fold up inside of herself and never escape until this nightmare was over. She felt Damon nod just slightly, and Stefan grinned again, like he'd just put together two puzzle pieces in his head. "You make a nice couple."

Now Elena really did feel sick. The floor spun. And when Damon, who had been strangely silent, led her upstairs, she dazedly followed. "Caroline, Stefan... give us a few minutes," she barely heard him say.

With those words, Caroline and Stefan were alone. The young vampire, who had been politely waiting for her turn, turned to Stefan with a wide smile. She seemed to be the only one in the group who wasn't completely in grief over the situation. "Don't get upset if they don't seem happy." She lifted her hand in a mock whisper, although she was speaking just as loud as she normally would have. "They're just surprised by the turn of events. But trust me, when it clicks in them that you're actually here they'll be—"

Stefan, who was not even trying to force a smile, cut Caroline off. "You look really familiar," he started, puzzled. "I know your face... but I don't."

"That's great!" Caroline smiled brightly and pulled the confused young man into a hug. "I was afraid I'd have to kick your ass if you completely forgot me!" she joked. Although he felt completely out of place, he decided to hug her back, because clearly, he remembered her... so she had to mean something, right? Plus, this bubbly blond girl seemed to be the only positive person he'd seen all night. When she pulled away, she let out a little content breath and stepped away. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you, how glad we all are."

Stefan awkwardly looked at the ground, his lips pursed. "Are you, um... are we... like Damon and," he paused for a minute. What was her name? "E-le...na?"