Chapter 26: What Remains Between Us
The late morning sun was slipping through the long windows of the Salvatore house, spilling into the rooms and revealing the dust hanging in the air like wandering ghosts. A heavy silence filled the house, laden with the echoes of loss and the weight of grief no one knew how to carry.
Elena stood at the front door's threshold, staring at it as if hesitant to enter. Her fist hovered for a moment before she finally knocked.
After a few seconds, the door creaked open.
It was Stefan.
His face was pale, tired, exhausted in a way that didn't suit someone who looked so young. The lines of fatigue etched beneath his eyes hadn't been there before… before Alexander died.
But when his eyes landed on Elena, something inside him seemed to soften, if only for a moment.
He said in a low voice:
"Elena…"
She asked quietly:
"Can I come in?"
He nodded and stepped aside.
She entered with hesitant steps, observing the hallway she once knew well, but now felt strange… as if the house itself had changed. It had become colder, more still. As if the laughter it once knew had been buried with Alexander.
In the living room, Damon was sitting, a half-full glass of bourbon in his hand, and another untouched glass on the table beside him.
He lifted his eyes when he heard her steps, but didn't speak.
Elena sat on the couch opposite him, looking between the brothers.
She said in a trembling voice:
"I wanted to talk to you both."
Neither of them replied right away.
She continued, her tone starting to shake:
"I know… I don't have the right to say much. I know Alexander didn't like me… he barely looked at me, barely spoke to me, and when he did, his words were… full of hatred."
She swallowed hard, almost betrayed by her own words.
"But he saved my life."
Her voice was shaking now, as if something inside her was breaking:
"He sacrificed himself so I could live. And I didn't even know how to feel when it happened. That night… I was completely numb. I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I didn't understand. And I still don't."
Damon remained silent, sipping his drink without comment.
She said as she looked at Stefan:
"But I wanted to say… I'm sorry. Sorry he's gone. Sorry he had to make that decision. Sorry you lost your brother… at the very moment you had finally gotten him back."
Stefan looked at her in silence. He blinked slowly, then nodded.
He said gently:
"Elena… you didn't do anything wrong."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"But—"
He cut her off gently:
"No. Kol did it. He's the one who kidnapped you. He's the one who forced Alexander to choose. This isn't your fault."
Elena broke down in tears, whispering hoarsely:
"Thank you… I needed to hear that."
Then she turned to Damon.
But he didn't look at her. His eyes remained fixed on the faint fire burning in the fireplace.
She waited.
Then whispered:
"Damon?"
No answer.
Stefan said, looking at his brother:
"Damon…"
Finally, he muttered in a faint, lifeless voice:
"I can't."
Elena frowned, confused by his answer:
"Can't what?"
He replied, still not looking at her:
"I can't forgive you."
She gasped, as if the blow wasn't from words, but from the truth they carried.
She asked in shock:
"Why? I didn't choose for this to happen. I didn't ask him to save me—"
He interrupted, sounding tired:
"I know. I know you didn't. I know it wasn't your fault."
Then finally, he turned to her. His eyes were tearful, but a glint of bitterness burned in them.
"But every time I look at you now… I see him kneeling before Kol. I see him looking at me and Stefan… like he finally found peace between us. Then he died. Because of you. Not because you did anything. But because you were something."
Elena shrank back in her seat, as if his words were a slap that couldn't be returned.
Damon continued:
"I loved you, Elena. And maybe a part of me still does.
But right now… all I feel when I look at you… is pain."
Silence fell. A painful silence, like cracks in a glass wall.
Elena whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks:
"I'm sorry."
Stefan reached for her hand and gently squeezed it.
"You don't have to carry this burden. We'll get through it. All of us. Just… give Damon some time."
But Damon had already stood and disappeared down the hallway without another word.
Elena rose slowly, wiping her tears with trembling fingers.
She said in a quiet voice:
"I didn't come to be forgiven… I just… wanted to say it. To both of you."
Stefan stood as well and nodded to her.
"And you said it. And to me… thank you."
She gave a sad smile, then turned toward the door, pausing for a moment at the threshold before stepping out into the sunlight.
And when the door closed behind her, Stefan sat again on the couch. He looked at the untouched glass Damon had left, then toward the hallway where his brother had vanished.
He said in a barely audible voice:
"Are you still with us… brother?"
But deep in his heart, he knew—
Grief does not leave. It stays, crawling like a shadow over the soul.
And Damon's soul… had grown darker than ever before.
---
The sun had just set when a knock echoed on the door—heavy, sharp, strange… yet familiar in an unsettling way.
Stefan stood in the hallway, his hand hesitant on the doorknob.
He knew who it was before opening it.
And when he did, Klaus Mikaelson was standing there, tall and still at the threshold, surrounded by a soft golden glow from the last rays of sunset.
Stefan said, not with surprise, but with something closer to resentment… or perhaps understanding:
"Klaus."
Klaus looked older than they were used to—not in his features, but in a hidden weight that rested on his shoulders. Something unspoken, yet present in his eyes.
He asked in a low voice:
"May I come in?"
Stefan silently stepped aside.
The hybrid entered slowly, his steps making a faint echo on the wooden floor, his eyes scanning the space—that silence, the stillness, and the grief hanging in the air like a scent that would not fade.
Damon was sitting in the far corner of the room, his arms crossed, a half-empty whiskey bottle beside him. When he saw Klaus, his expression didn't change, but a dangerous glint flashed in his eyes.
He muttered coldly:
"And finally, the king of New Orleans graces us with a visit."
Klaus looked at him:
"I deserve that sarcasm."
Damon stood up sharply:
"You deserve more than that. You should've done something."
"I know."
"You could've done something."
"And I know that too."
The tension in the room rose.
Everything became heavier.
Klaus turned his face aside and said:
"I didn't come… because I wasn't sure I could control myself. I wasn't sure I wouldn't rip Kol's heart out and wear it around my neck like a trophy."
Silence fell… thick, heavy with what was left unsaid.
Then Klaus muttered, his voice breaking for the first time:
"I loved him. That bastard… Alexander. I called him brother. We fought like beasts, but we understood each other in a way I haven't with many before."
Stefan's gaze softened, even if just a little.
Klaus continued:
"And Kol… he's my blood. My real brother. But that night, all I wanted was to drag him down to hell with me."
Damon said through clenched teeth:
"You should've."
Klaus replied, looking directly at him:
"I couldn't. Because… no matter what he did, he's still family. And if there's one thing I've learned after more than a thousand years… it's that revenge within a family never ends. It just… eats you from the inside."
Damon laughed bitterly and turned his face away.
Finally, Stefan spoke:
"And why now? Why did you come?"
Klaus answered:
"Because I owe him. I owe Alexander. I wanted to look you both in the eyes and say… I'm sorry."
Stefan nodded slowly:
"He would've appreciated that."
Klaus's jaw tightened, then he said:
"And also… to tell you something else."
He took out a silver ring from his coat. The same ring Alexander had worn since he merged with Ash.
He said:
"I found it. Kol dropped it. Maybe by accident, maybe on purpose. But I think… it matters."
He placed it gently on the table.
Neither of the brothers moved to take it.
Stefan asked:
"Do you think it… still holds a part of him?"
Klaus nodded:
"Ash… Alexander… whatever they became… that being burned like a star. That kind of power doesn't fade easily."
Damon kept staring at the ring, his eyes lost in thought.
Klaus added:
"And maybe… his story isn't over yet."
The room fell silent for a moment.
Then Klaus turned toward the door.
As he was about to leave, he said:
"I won't stay long. I just wanted you to know… Alexander mattered. More than I ever told him. More than I ever admitted to myself."
Stefan walked him to the door.
And before he crossed the threshold, Klaus turned once more and said:
"If either of you ever need me… you know where to find me."
Stefan nodded.
As for Damon, he said nothing.
Then the original hybrid left, returning to the darkness of the night, leaving behind a new silence… and a thought echoing in their minds:
Maybe, just maybe, Alexander's story wasn't over yet.
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