Sincerely Yours [Stefan Salvatore]

[71. There Wasn't a Choice]

[4x15; Stand by Me]

The stone was cold under Stefan but he didn't care. He didn't care that Katherine had taken the cure and split, he didn't care about Silas disappearing, and he didn't care about the fact that he could smell three different scents of blood wafting up from Silas' chamber. He didn't care about anything. He couldn't.

He was past the point of tears. His eyes ached as they anchored onto Lucy's body, watching blankly as Rebekah hovered over her little sister, tears silently falling down her cheeks as she choked down her sobs and held Lucy's pale and limp hand in her own.

He could faintly hear Elena's own cries, devastated from the loss of both of her younger siblings. Damon was by her side, trying to comfort her, but he was striking out as Elena denied that Jeremy was actually dead. She thought that the ring would save him but he was supernatural when he died. Just like Lucy was.

They had found their bodies only a few feet apart from one another, both sets of hazel eyes glazed over with death. Elena had sped off when he heard her brother's screams, not waiting for him. By the time he was in the chamber, Elena was on the stone floor, sobbing and cradling Jeremy's dead body to her chest.

He noticed that there were no other heartbeats in the room and that was when he saw Lucy. He almost collapsed when he saw her propped up against a wall, head bloody, body bruised, and neck twisted sharply. Her beautiful eyes were still open but there was none of her usual warmth in them.

His body felt like lead as he walked over to her and gravity finally won when he fell to his knees only an inch away from her. Her body was still warm but the warmth would fade soon. She was gone.

Lucy was dead.

"Lucy," his voice came out as a rasp, his hand reaching to cup her lifeless cheek. His heart started to pound in his chest and he struggled to breathe, his stomach twisting violently. "No, Lucy, please."

Sobs erupted out of his chest as he leaned his forehead on her own, tears dripping down his face and landing on Lucy's. He closed his eyes, unable to look into her blank ones, and thought back to the last time he had seen her smiling face. She was telling him that she loved him and he had told her to be careful.

"I'm so sorry," he choked out, chest shuddering. "I'm so sorry, Goofy. I'm so sorry."

She would never reply, would never call him Broody again. The realization of what that meant made him want to throw up whatever little blood he had in his stomach.

He pulled his forehead away from hers and studied her face. Her dimples weren't visible other than the little lines where they usually appeared, her lips were turning slightly blue, and there was no flush to her cheeks. He couldn't stand the way her eyes stared blankly at him; it would haunt him for the rest of his damned life. He carefully shut them.