MYSTIC FALLS 1994

"Damon, we should let your mum rest."

The hospital room was dim, but the scant daylight leaking through the drawn blinds seemed painfully brilliant.

At the sight of her eldest son, Lillian Giuseppe's sore chest muscles contracted around her heart. "Damon, I'm sorry," she wheezed. "So sorry."

"Don't say sorry, Mum." Damon reached out to hold her hand. "You have to take your medicine now. Then you will feel better."

"I'm dying, Damon. Those little pills can't help me any longer," she whispered, causing fear to cut through the heart of the fourteen year old boy.

"You are in the hospital. The doctors will save you…" Damon cried out.

"Not this time, son. Not this time. I'm tired, Damon. I just need rest. You have to promise me that you will look after Stefan. He is your brother and you need to love him with all your heart."

"I know, Mum. I promise you, I will…" Damon trailed off, reaching deep inside for the courage to keep him from crying.

"Boys don't cry." Lillian squeezed his hand. "Boys conquer the world, remember?"

"Yes, Mum. I promise I won't cry."

Giuseppe Salvatore lowered himself into the chair beside her bed. He barely resembled the man he had been the day before. Always tall, with a commanding presence, he was now stooped. Lines seemed to have been carved into his face overnight.

His grey eyes, characteristically intense, were bloodshot. Not only did they look bereaved, there was no life behind them. They reflected no light, as though he were dead too.

He hated to see her in so much pain, knowing there was nothing he could do. Lillian was the love of his life. Her smile had been so sweet. Her eyes had sparkled with exuberance over life in general. To anyone who had seen Giuseppe and Lillian together, it was instantly apparent that they had shared a special love. Lillian had adored him, and he had cherished Lillian. But now she was dying. And there was nothing he could do.

"I'm going to sleep now, Damon. If I don't wake up this time, you will look after Stefan and Dad for me, okay? I know you are a good boy. My good boy forever."

His mother's voice faded as she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep. Fifteen minutes later her breathing stopped.

Giuseppe and his two sons sat by her bed for another hour before he finally stood up.

"Damon, Stefan, let's go home."

When he walked out of the room, one lone tear slipped from his grey eyes. He didn't turn back around and look at her lifeless body - there was no reason to. The love of his life was gone. Forever.

x x x

The sun refused to shine on the day of Lillian's Salvatore funeral. It, too, seemed to be mourning the lovely, honest, hardworking woman who had died from breast cancer. For two days, Damon had seen many people came to pay tribute to his mother. There were wealthy visitors, their affluence evidenced by their clothes and their conveyances.

The hearse came to a halt at the driveway of the Salvatore house, glistening blackly. The driver wore a cutaway coat and top hat making him looked like someone from the circus.

Giuseppe was escorted down the front walk by his brother, Zach Salvatore. Damon and Stefan followed behind them. Giuseppe appeared to be withdrawn, oblivious to the sympathetic friends who watched him with pity as he walked to the covered carriage which waited behind the hearse.

The coffin was ceremoniously lifted into the hearse. Damon thought Lillian would have scoffed at all this pomp and circum stance. He was sure she was somewhere watching all of them, her eyes twinkling in amusement. He offered a prayer for her soul as the hearse led the procession away from the house.

"I promise I will take good care of Dad and Stefan," he whispered. "I promise you, Mum."

Later that night, Giuseppe seated on his seven-year-old son Stefan's bed. "Go to sleep, Stefan. It's late."

"When is Mum coming home?" Stefan asked the third time. "I miss her bedtime story."

"Dad will tell you a story."

"Is Mum still in the hospital?" Stefan asked. "Is she still sick?"

"Stefan…" he began; then he hesitated, and took his hand in his. After a moment, he began again. "I know how strange it must have seemed to you that Mum will never come home again." His voice cracked but he roughly cleared his throat. "Mum is not coming back anymore."

"Mum doesn't want us anymore, does she?" Stefan asked anxiously. "Why did she leave us?"

"Mum will never leave us."

Giuseppe turned around and found Damon standing at the doorway.

"Are you sure Mum will never leave us?" Stefan asked with concern. "When is she coming home?"

"Mum has gone to a special place," Damon said as he walked toward his bed. "Very far away."

"Can we go and find her?" Stefan asked.

Giuseppe lowered his forehead into one of his hands and massaged his temples with his thumb and middle finger. At forty-three, Giuseppe was a tall, broad-shouldered businessman with prematurely grey hair who normally exuded self-assurance, but not tonight. Tonight, he looked distinctly uneasy, and Damon knew why. Although he was only fourteen, he wasn't silly to know that Giuseppe didn't know how to explain to young Stefan about the death of his mother.

"Although Mum is far away, she is still watching all of us." Damon reached out and gently patted Stefan's head. "If you don't behave, Mum will be sad. You don't want that, do you?"

Stefan shook his head. "I want Mum to be happy. I'm a good boy."

"Then you should go to sleep now," Damon said, smiling at his younger brother.

Stefan nodded. "Okay," he said.

"That's my boy." Giuseppe leaned over and kissed the top of his head. "Good night, son. Sweet dream."

He turned out the light and closed the door when he left. Damon followed behind him. They walked down the long hallway towards the door of Damon's room.

"It's late. You should go to bed as well," Giuseppe said.

"Good night, Dad," Damon said as he walked inside his room.

"Good night."

Giuseppe turned and started to leave, but Damon's hesitant voice stopped him. "Dad. Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He looked sad then and added. "Maybe someday I will be okay."

But that day never arrived.

Giuseppe started drinking since that day Lillian died. He was always drunk. Damon felt that his father was running away from his grief over Lillian instead of facing it and trying to deal with it.

Giuseppe had also left the foundering family business in the hands of his younger brother because he seemed to have lost interest in everything. Damon didn't understand. Was getting drunk the only to ward off his loneliness and despair brought on by Lillian's death? Was he punishing himself for her death by sinking as low as he could go?

Although Giuseppe was never abusive, Stefan was mortified to see his father drunk every day and night. Not to mention scared. Damon didn't know how to handle the situation. How he wished his mother was still around. But Damon never forgot the promise he made to his mother. He would take care of his father and Stefan, no matter how hard life would be.

Damon got Giuseppe through the door of his bedroom. He was shaking now. His heart was pounding and his breathing was shallow. He could barely contain his rage and frustration. But he knew that losing his temper would do no good. "You have got to stop the drinking, Dad. You are killing yourself."

"It's my own business." Giuseppe dropped down onto the bed and turned his head toward the wall. "If I want to kill myself, I will."

"Please, don't talk like that."

"Go away."

"I think you should see the doctor."

"What do you know about any of this? Just leave me alone."

The helplessness threatened to swamp him in a sea of despair. There was no point talking to him anymore tonight.

He went out into the hall and quietly closed the bedroom door.

Stefan was standing outside the room, crying. He had wanted to cry. But he knew he couldn't allow himself to give in to the tears.

"Is Dad going to leave us as well?" Stefan asked.

"No, Dad isn't going to leave us."

"Damon, I miss Mum."

Damon hugged his brother close and laid his cheek on Stefan's blond hair. "I miss her too."

"I'm glad you are here, Damon."

"I'm glad you are here too, brother. No matter what happens," Damon said, "you and me, we stick together."

"Okay," Stefan said.

x x x

MYSTIC FALLS 1995

Zach Salvatore stood at the fireplace in the living room of the Salvatore mansion, his aristocratic features set into an icy mask as he watched the butler pass a tray of drinks to Damon and Stefan who had just returned from their schools. Like most small communities, Mystic Falls had a well-established social hierarchy, and the Salvatore family was as firmly ensconced at the pinnacle of that social structure because the Salvatore family was one of the founder families of Mystic Falls in the 1800s. Situated precisely in the centre of Mystic Falls was a sprawling cluster of red brick buildings that comprised Salvatore Industries, which was responsible, either directly or indirectly, for the economic prosperity of most of Salvatore's families.

Today, however, Zach Salvatore's mind was not on the view from the veranda or the lofty social standing he had possessed since birth; it was on the staggering blow he was about to deliver to his loathsome brother, Giuseppe. Their father, Joseph Salvatore was too lenient with Giuseppe when he was growing up. Giuseppe was the eldest son and he always got the best of everything. Joseph wanted Giuseppe to have everything. That was a serious error on Joseph's part, Zach thought. Joseph's leniency weakened Giuseppe sense of duty and responsibility. It made him vulnerable.

His children, Damon and Stefan were just alike, Zach thought contemptuously as he studied the pair. They were spoiled, spineless, and irresponsible; they spent too much, and played too much; they were overindulged brats who knew nothing of self-discipline. But all that was about to stop.

In a few minutes, however, everything would change, Zach thought. His eyes went straight to Giuseppe. Giuseppe's mouth pinched in a disapproving line, sat primly on the sofa.

"I think we have had enough dramatics," Giuseppe said. "Tell us what's going on here. Otherwise I will go back to my room."

"To drink more?" Zach sneered at him.

Giuseppe frowned. "That's none of your business."

"You are right. It's none of my business." Zach did not take his eyes off Giuseppe. "You are probably wondering why I have called this little family meeting today."

Damon watched him in noncommittal silence from his position at the sofa, but Stefan intercepted a look of impatient boredom between Giuseppe and Damon.

"Don't play games, Zach," Giuseppe demanded.

"I can see you are impatient," he said, "so I will go directly to the point. I'm sure it has not occurred to you to wonder about anything as mundane as your financial status, however, the fact is that you, my brother was too busy with your drinking after your wife died that you have neglected the family business. As a result, I am now in complete control of the business. In case you are wondering what that means, I shall hasten to explain it to you." Smiling with satisfaction, he said, "You are no longer the President of Salvatore Industries. Period."

Giuseppe appeared more confused than outraged. "What the devil are you talking about?"

"I have been appointed by the board of directors to be the new president. I have a duty to this family. And I will make the business grow."

"This is ridiculous," Giuseppe said furiously. "You can't be serious about all this!"

"You went absolutely crazy after Lillian died," Zach said fiercely. "The board of directors have been very disappointed with you, Giuseppe. I did what I had to do. I did it for the sake of the family."

"You can't do this to me!" Giuseppe exploded. "Father would never have let you!"

"Father made a mistake of trusting you. You are weak. You can't make the family business grow. But I can. He didn't realise I'm a much better candidate."

"You can't do this to me!" Giuseppe repeated furiously. "I'm your brother!"

"I have all your shares, brother. I can do whatever I want," Zach informed him in a steely voice. "You are no longer being employed by the Salvatore Industries."

"You are lying," Giuseppe hissed. "How did you get hold of my shares?"

"You obviously didn't read the document properly when you signed it the other day," Zach chuckled. "You have agreed to sell all your shares of Salvatore Industries to me."

"Goddamn it," Giuseppe roared. "It was a trap. You set a trap for me."

"You are lucky this mansion still belongs to you. If you manage to pay off the mortgage." Glancing at the children, Zach added. "I suggest both of you start looking for part-time jobs to support the family. Your daddy still has to pay off the mortgage."

Damon stood up. He looked up at Zach with such cold contempt that Zach felt a chill down his spine. But what interested Zach the most about Damon's expression was the emotion he glimpsed in his eyes before he opened his mouth. Was it anguish he had seen there? Or was it fury? Or fear? He hoped, very devoutly, that it was all those things.

"Get out of here," Damon said coldly. "Now."

"You sound just like your father," Zach said. "Weak and useless."

"I'm not like my father. I'm not weak or useless." Damon tightened his fists at his side. "Get out of here now."

"What can you do to me, Damon?" Zach challenged. "You are only a boy."

With that, Zach strode towards the front door and left the mansion.

Giuseppe crumbled to the floor; his face was pale as if he had seen a ghost.

"I will get everything back one day," Damon whispered.

It was Zach's fault – all of it. Zach had ruined his father. Some people were just greedy, out to get their hands on everything. Well, Zach would pay. Zach Salvatore would pay for it.

He'd seek revenge on those who'd hurt his father, those who were supposed to be his family. He didn't care how long it took…