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"Father?" The small Benedict O'Crowley timidly directed the term to his well-dressed father who only gave a slight humming to appear attentive.

The child's pure blonde hair was neatly sleeked to the side to assure no hair was out of place. A matching colored gray vest, suit jacket, and shorts that were only of the finest quality. Custom made dress shoes with dark knee socks that covered any exposed skin from the shorts.

"Where are we going?" The eight-year-old child knew that questioning his father's authority was a grand way to provoke him but he couldn't help himself. He was but a curious child despite the growing fear of his father lashing out on him.

His father gave no response to his son as he knew they were near their destination. Thomas O'Crowley stared at the window of the carriage they were traveling in before he chose to converse. "We are going to the Salvatore manor to visit someone." His slightly deep voice stated. "I expect you to be on your best behavior when we arrive, Benedict." His cold voice significantly turned stern as he momentarily glanced at his child before at the window once more.

The eight-year-old remained silent throughout the rest of the journey and stared out at the unoccupied window to observe the changes of surroundings in amazement. It wasn't often that he was allowed to company his father during his trips as Thomas was more invested in his business affairs rather than his family. A clear distraction from the loss of his wife to illness but Benedict was far too young to comprehend that connection.

The little blonde boy smiled shyly and gave a little wave to the women they passed on the streets. His vibrant blue eyes with specks of golden and white in them would light up when some of the women would send him a motherly smile back. Those smiles reminded him of his late mother. Oh, he missed her to the moon and back. It made his heart ache when he thought of her and her gentleness that he craved so. His father was not the affectionate or fatherly type to show his caring but his mother was everything and so on.

For the rest of the trip, Benedict would play with his fingers out of boredom or look out of the window. Until the carriage pulled into a significantly large mansion that was a bit smaller than the one he lived in.

An older man dressed in a thick yet long dark buttoned-up jacket and newly tailored pant opened the door for his father to step out before aiding the young O'Crowley onto the concrete ground.

The boy attempted to follow his father's large strides towards the mansion and would trip over his own feet. Once he was close enough, Benedict accidentally bumped into the side of Thomas's leg before stumbling to stand up straight after receiving a look of warning.

His father knocked at the polished woods doors and a few moments later, a younger man walked out with a young child around the same age of Benedict holding his hand. "Thomas. I'm glad you could make it." The unknown male smiled politely towards his business partner before his eyes set on the small figure next to him. "Hello, Benedict. I've heard much about you from your father." He greeted gruffly.

Benedict respectfully nodded in his direction and gave a toothy smile yet his smile was anything but genuine.

"This is my son, Stefan." The man slightly pushed the small child towards the blonde-headed Benedict. The brunette child smiled wearily at the young O'Crowley. "While I and your father discuss matters, you and my son will be elsewhere." He explained vaguely before he called a maid to escort the boys to Stefan's room.

A modestly dressed female, wearing a white apron held the boys' hands and guided them through the front door.

Benedict admired the interior and wooden antiques placed in different areas of the manor. His blue eyes twinkling in wonder and awe while Stefan curiously glanced from behind the maid at the blonde boy.

The female released her holds from the young children and opened the door wide enough for both Stefan and Benedict to enter. "If you need anything, Stefan, please inform me immediately?" She politely bowed with a motherly smile before she slowly closed the door behind her.

An awkward silence filled the atmosphere as the two boys often glanced at each other as if waiting for the other to speak up first. It seemed like a contest to see who gave in first and a few later, Stefan craved in.

"Why do you dress so proper?" Stefan tilted his head in question as he sat on the carpeted floor and grabbed his wooden playthings.

Benedict followed suit and sat across the Salvatore boy. "My father wants me to look my best in public." Others thought he looked adorable in stuffy suits but it felt uncomfortable and tight against his skin. The heat felt unbearable at times and the outfits would often stick to him like a second layer of skin.

Stefan handed him one of his favorite toys and smiled as they bonded over toys they preferred. It has been a while since Stefan was smiling after his mother's death. His brother seemed to be indifferent while his father buried himself in his work and taking care of him and Damon.

"What should I call you?" Stefan asked, interrupting the conversation they were having about toys.

Benedict's mouth formed a subconscious pout in thought. "Everyone calls me Benedict." He was used to the formal use of his name that he couldn't think of a name that wasn't.

Stefan blew out a puff of air and pursed his lips together in thought, but an idea appeared in his mind. "How about Ben?"

He hummed at the name, it sounded normal. Not the name of a noble man's son but just a normal boy. He smiled and nodded. "I like it. Can I see that toy now?" For the rest of the time being, the two spent their time playing in the spacious room and would often laugh at their mistakes, carefree and oblivious of the world around them.

The two had no idea that from this day forth, this friendship was one that would forever be memorable and bloom into something more profound.

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