"I gave Elena valerian and some other sedative herbs and sat with her until she fell asleep," Bonnie said, coming out of the bedroom. "She couldn't stop crying, but eventually she just passed out."

She had felt so helpless, watching Elena lying there, tears slipping silently from her closed eyes and down her cheeks, looking small in the bed she'd shared with Stefan.

Tears flooded Bonnie's eyes. Stefan had been so strong, the calm at the center of the storm, and he and Elena had been the focus of their group, the ones the others all revolved around. She couldn't quite comprehend him being dead.

Meredith and Matt were seated on the sofa in the living room, looking as broken as Bonnie felt. Bonnie went over to them with a sigh, pulling her feet under her on the sofa and curling up next to Meredith. Zander was with most of the Pack, combing the woods in search of Jack, while Alaric was researching, trying to find what kind of vampire could hide his aura like Jack had. Trinity, Darlene, and Alex had returned to their motel, where four of the Pack watched over them, just in case. But the remaining hunters had seemed as shocked as the others that Jack was a vampire. Bonnie remembered that Jack wasn't really one of them, that he had come to this group and enlisted them in his quest to kill Solomon.

Bonnie was glad the others were somewhere else. It felt right to watch over Elena with just Matt and Meredith, the four friends who had gone through so much together, who had known one another longest of all.

"I just don't understand it," Matt murmured, twisting his hands together miserably. "How did we not know Jack was a vampire? And why would he kill Stefan? They'd been working together. They were friends."

"He walked in the daylight, without a ring," Meredith said dully. "He was obsessed with killing vampires. He was a hunter. But he was a vampire, too?"

Matt cleared his throat. When they looked at him, he straightened his shoulders and said, with an obvious effort, "We should call Damon."

Meredith and Bonnie stared at each other in dismay. How could they have forgotten Damon? Despite all the years of conflict between the brothers, Bonnie was certain that Stefan's death would tear Damon apart. And an angry, grieving Damon might do anything.

She could see that Meredith was having the same thoughts.

"Elena should tell him," Meredith said.

Matt frowned. "Elena's got enough on her plate. We need to make things easier for her."

Bonnie shook her head decisively, her red curls flying around her. "Elena's the only one who can keep Damon from totally losing it. And she'll probably want to tell him. We should wait till morning anyway, and talk to her about it then."

"I guess you're right," Matt said. "I just-all I want to do is help her."

"We all do," Bonnie said, taking Matt's broad hand in her smaller one. "But I think the only thing we can do now is be here if she needs us."

Matt rubbed a tired hand over his eyes. "I still can't believe it," he said. "I can't ... I never thought I'd see Stefan fall like that. Any of us, I worried about, but I thought he'd go on forever."

Bonnie buried her face in Matt's shoulder and, even though she'd promised herself she'd be strong, felt a few tears squeeze out of her eyes. "Let's stay here tonight," she said, her voice muffled in his shirt. "Elena shouldn't be alone."

"The sofa folds out," Meredith said, jumping up, glad of something practical to do. "And I think there's an air mattress in the closet."

They got ready for bed quietly. Bonnie climbed into the sofa bed next to Meredith and turned out the light. Listening to Meredith's breathing next to her and Matt's from the floor by the bed, she knew that neither of them was going to fall asleep tonight either.

They would lie here together, in the long dark hours before dawn, watching over Elena. It was the only thing they could do.

In the pitch-blackness, Elena's eyes flew open. She didn't know how much time had passed since she drank Bonnie's potion, but it had put her into a deep, dreamless sleep.

And now she was awake, and something was scratching at the window.

She was just drawing breath to scream when she realized that of course she knew who it was. She could feel him. Slipping out of bed, Elena fumbled her way toward the window, banging her leg against her bureau in the dark.

Damon was sitting on a tree branch outside, his inscrutable black eyes fixed on her. "Invite me in, princess," he said.

"Come in," Elena said, and stumbled back from the window as Damon stepped inside, as graceful as ever. When he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, she realized he was shaking.

She didn't need to tell him anything, she realized, somewhat gratefully. He already knew, must have known as soon as he'd felt her anguish. His heartache came steadily through the bond between them, mirroring hers.

"I need ..." he said, his voice broken. "Can I hold you?" She nodded wordlessly.

On top of the covers, he held her loosely, his arms strong and comforting. Elena rested her head against his chest and finally let go, knowing that the link between them made words unnecessary, his pain and her pain blending until it was all one shared emotion. Sobbing, she wiped a hand roughly under her nose. She was gross and covered with snot and tears and she didn't care.

"Stefan would have liked to have seen you again," she told Damon in a thick, tear-choked voice. "He missed you while you were gone."

"I know. I missed him, too," Damon said, and their bond throbbed with an extra ache: loneliness, and regret over time lost. He stroked her hair with a heavy, comforting hand.

Elena pressed her face against his chest. Damon, she realized, was the only person in the world who understood exactly what she had lost. She held onto him fiercely as they grieved together, weeping for Stefan and for themselves.

#TVD11DamonReturns

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