CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
BROTHERS

Damon's fingers wrapped around the device that Pearl had given him the night before after the Miss Mystic Falls ceremony; he examined it with hooded eyes. Elena and I rushed into the room, frantically trying to get out stuff together but ceased our movements when we saw that he was twirling the device in his fingers.
​
"Did you figure out what that is?" I questioned, quickly stuffing my used clothes into my bag.
​
"Nope," Damon replied, his eyes never wandering from the tarnished object in his hands. "Whatever it is, it doesn't work."
​
Elena picked up a red T-shirt, examining it before she realized that it wasn't hers and tossed it toward me. "Pearl didn't say anything else?"​
​
"Thought she was stealing his vampire compass, but it was a pocket watch." Damon explained, continuing to obsessively look at the Gilbert invention. "That Johnathan Gilbert was a crazy scientist. Have either of you spoken to your uncle lately?"
​
"We've been avoiding him, actually," I admitted sheepishly, shoving another pair of pants into my bag. "That, and we've been here most nights."
​
"So y'all will be here again tonight?"
​
Elena quirked up a perfectly shaped eyebrow, "Is that a problem?"
​
"Yes," Damon agreed, finally turning around to face us. "You're a complete nuisance."
​
I huffed, slinging my bag over my shoulder,
"We'll see you later."

​After Elena and I arrived home, we parted ways and went into our bedrooms to grab some more clothes, seeing as though we wouldn't be coming back home in a few days. But, in the process of getting everything situated, a peculiar thought popped into my head. I quickly pulled out my phone, dialed the number before placing the phone between my ear and my shoulder.
​
"What?" Damon answered.
​
"I'm just grabbing some clothes, then I'll be right over." I began, throwing a crumpled up shirt in my dirty clothes hamper. "How's Stefan?"
​
"Extra broody - hold on." Damon stated before I then heard a click as though he had switched the line to take another call. I continued to rummage through my dresser until I heard him come back: "He won't eat anything." He announced in a sing-song voice.
​
I frowned. "He has to eat. What's his favorite kind of, um-?"
​
"His favorite kind of what?"
​
"Type of animal blood that he prefers?" I asked quickly, feeling increasingly uncomfortable as the conversation continued.
​
"Ew, gross."
​
I rolled my eyes. "Your joking doesn't help."
​
"Helps me - now, hurry up," Damon demanded.​ "I can't babysit all night, I have things to do."
​
"I would say drop dead, but..." I remarked, pulling a jacket out of my closet with a slight smile.
​
"And to answer your question," Damon began before taking a deep breath. "Stefan likes puppy blood - little golden retriever puppies, cute, floppy ears. That's his favorite."
​
I rolled my eyes, scoffing just before I hung up. I shoved the phone in my pocket, placing the empty hanger back in the closet before closing the door. I turned toward the official exit of my room, but jumped at the figure standing in the doorway.
​
"Sorry."
​
I gulped, "Uncle John - I, um, didn't see you there."
​
"I thought we could talk," He announced, slowly walking further into my room. "We haven't had a chance to catch up."
​
My lips pressed into a thin line, "I'm actually heading out, so-"
​
"It won't take long," John rushed out, his voice causing me to cease my stride once I got to the doorway of my bedroom.
​
I spun back around on my heels, teeth gritting together as John had the audacity of pick up a framed picture of my parents off the corner of my dresser. "What did you wanna talk about?"
​
John pursed his lips, returning the picture back to where he found it. "I know you know."
​
"Know what?" I asked flatly.
​
"It's really silly to keep pretending," John fired back. "What do you think your mother would say if she knew that you were running around with vampires?"
​
"Which mother?" I spat, adjusting the bag on my shoulder before storming out of my room.

​
MYTIC FALLS, 1864
​

"I bet Johnathan Gilbert has told father by now," Stefan wondered aloud, carrying a bucket of water back to where his brother was sitting. "Wonder how he took the news that we're dead."
​
Damon's eyes narrowed into slit as he dipped the small cloth into the water. "As if he cares - he betrayed us."
​
Stefan shook his head, using his own wet cloth to wash his bloodied body. "He thought he was protecting us, Damon. He thought he was protecting the town."
​
Damon decided not to dwell on the subject any further, his eyes squinting slightly out of pain. "God, the sun hurts my eyes." he complained, shielding his eyes from the burning star as he looked back toward the ground.
​
"It's part of it," Stefan frowned, hastily cleaning his hands. "The muscle aches, the sick feeling. Emily says it's out bodies pushing us to feed, to complete the transition."
​
"That's not gonna happen."
​
Stefan furrowed his brows, disturbed by his
brother's words. "Is that your choice then - to die instead?"
​
"Isn't it yours? This was all to be with Katherine and Beatrice, but they're gone. I want it over."
​
If Stefan said that he agreed with his brother's choice, he would've been lying.​

​"You know, he's just being dramatic. He's not gonna starve himself."
​
When Elena and I had arrived back at the Salvatore Boarding House, I decided that it was only right to go down and check on Stefan. And while I was down in the cellar, trying to convince Stefan that he needed to drink the blood, he said that he didn't want to survive any longer.
​
He said that it "had to end."
​
I fumbled with my fingers, "Why would he say that?"
​
"He feels bad about hurting that girl and almost harming you - it's typical Stefan martyr stuff. I will pass." Damon tried to be reassuring, but to no avail. ​
​
"Will it?" I tested. "Because he seemed to be in a lot of pain."
​
Damon scoffed, "That will pass, once he eats."
​
I rolled my eyes at his know-it-all attitude. "I didn't mean physical pain."
​
"I know what you meant." Damon replied. "Are you two gonna be okay if I have to run out? I have an errand with the teacher."
​
Elena furrowed her brows, "The teacher? Alaric? Are you two friends now?"​
​
"I don't have any friends, Elena," Damon stated. "You two should, um, you two should stay up here. Shouldn't be done there by yourself."
​
"We'll be fine," I assured.
​
"You know," Damon began, fixing the collar of his leather jacket. "You two are very trusting of him, given the circumstances."
​
"So are you. Otherwise, you wouldn't be leaving." Elena shot back, not liking the fact that Damon acts like he doesn't care about his brother.
​
"I won't be long."

MYSTIC FALLS, 1864
VERITAS ESTATE

​
Stefan stood in front of his old house in silence, knowing that he was no longer welcome there. Considered dead, that's all he was to his father; the father he once loved and thought he felt the same.
​
The faint voices crackled in his heightened hearing, tilting his head to the side as he tried to listen in on his father's late night conversation.
​
"May I offer you a drink, Mister Gilbert?" Giuseppe Salvatore asked, voice rough and scratchy with age.
​
"Thank you, Mister Salvatore," Johnathan Gilbert responded. "This won't take much longer."
​
Stefan inched closer to his family home; the home him and his brother were born in, the same home where his mother fell sick before leaving her sons alone with their father.
​
"I want to make sure the archives are accurate," Johnathan assured, pursing his lips as he continued to write along the pages of the large leather bound book in front of him.
​
Giuseppe nodded, pouring himself and Johnathan a drink. "Be sure you document the loss of civilian like in the church."
​
Johnathan felt his blood boil slightly at Giuseppe's words. "They were hardly civilians, Mister Salvatore."
​
"As far as anyone needs to know, they were." Giuseppe insisted, gulping down the harsh amber liquid hastily. "As record keeper for the council, what you write will be passed through generations. Certain details should be kept only between you and me."
​
"For example?"
​
"My sons - they will be remembered as innocent victims of the Battle of Willow Creek, not for their shame."
​
"Certainly, Mister Salvatore," Johnathan replied.

​"You know, Damon hasn't fed me vervain in a while. I could be at those bars in a flash, and you'd be dead."
​
"Yeah, you could," I sighed, picking at the rust on the barred window between Stefan and I. "But you won't."
​
Stefan looked up at me with hooded eyes, "Please, just go away - I don't want you here."
​
My nostrils flared with anger, wrapping my fingers around the lock before I yanked it back and pushed the door open. Stefan glanced up in alarm, but didn't dare to move a muscle as I walked further into the dirt covered cellar.
​
"What are you doing?" Stefan asked. "Get out of here."
​
I shook my head, closing the cellar door behind me. "No."
​
"You're taking a stupid risk - I could hurt you."
​
I shrugged my shoulders before crouching down in front of him, placing my hand around the bottle filled with blood. "Then I'm stupid, and you need to drink this." I announced, holding the bottle out for him to take.
​
"Elektra, get out of here or you'll regret it."
​
"Drink," I insisted.
​
And in a flash, Stefan was off the ground and on his feet. He rushed toward me before smacking the bottle out of my hand and sent it flying to the floor. His lips pulled back into a snarl, revealing his fangs and the veins beneath his eyes were pulsing as he inched closer to me; but I didn't cower away in fear of him hurting me because I knew he wouldn't.
​
"I said get out!" Stefan shouted in my face.
​
I stepped forward, challenging him: "No."
​
Anything that resembled the monster inside him, faded away as he allowed his head to drop for a few seconds. His dark green eyes studied my face for a long moment before he turned away from me and sat upon on the creaky bench against the cellar wall.
​
I ran my shaky hands through my hair multiple times, desperately trying to hold myself together long enough to help Stefan put his broken pieces back together. I needed to keep myself calm because I knew that Stefan needed help in figuring this out.
​
I slowly moved forward until I was sitting on the bench next to him, "Talk to me, Stefan. Why are you doing this?"
​
Stefan folded his hands, placing them beneath his chin as he propped his head up. "I'm making the decision I should have made years ago."
​
I tilted my head in confusion, "What are you talking about?"
​
Stefan took a deep breath, finally opening his eyes to look over at me. "You have to feed in order to complete the transition."
​
I nodded numbly, "I know that."
​
"It was a choice I shouldn't have made."

MYSTIC FALLS, 1864
VERITAS ESTATE

Stefan crept through the house, cringing every time his foot hit a loose floorboard or a creaky corner. From the light at the far end of the hall, he could tell his Father had left the sitting room and was already in his study, no doubt writing down the record he and Johnathan had concocted in his own journal. He stood in the doorframe and watched him for a moment. His hair was snow-white, and he saw age spots on his Father's hands.
​
Stefan took a step toward him, and Giuseppe's head jerked upward.
​
"Dear God...," he said, dropping his pen to the floor with a clatter.
​
Stefan watched him, anger rising up inside him. "Even in our death, you only feel shame?" Stefan asked. It was something Damon would say, and in a way, he felt his presence beside him. He was doing it for his brother. He was doing it for both of them, so that at least they would die with truth on their side.
​
But Giuseppe was barely listening. Instead, he was staring at Stefan. "You're one of them now. Isn't that right, Stefan?" Giuseppe said, backing away from Stefan, slowly, as if he were about to lunge and attack him.
​
"I'll never be one of them." Stefan shook his head, hoping against hope that his father would believe him.
​
"But you are. I watched you bleed and take your last breath. I left you for dead. And now I see you here. You are one of them." Giuseppe said, his back now against the brick wall.
​
"You saw us shot?" Stefan asked in confusion. He remembered the voices. The chaos. Vampires being yelled over and over again in the darkness. Feeling the bullets penetrate his flesh. Everything fading to black.
​
"I pulled the trigger myself. I pulled it on Damon, and I pulled it on you. And apparently, it wasn't enough," Giuseppe replied. "Now I need to finish the job," he said, his voice as cold as ice.
​
"You killed your own sons?" Stefan questioned, anger of his own coursing through his veins.
​
Giuseppe stepped toward him menacingly, and even though he thought his son was a monster, Stefan was the one who felt fear. "You were both dead to me as soon as you sided with the vampires. And now, to come in here and ask forgiveness, as if what you did could be excused with an I'm sorry. No. No." He stepped away from his desk and walked toward Stefan, his eyes still darting to the left and the right, except that now it was as if he were the hunter, rather than a hunted animal. "You know, it's a blessing your mother died before she could see what a disgrace you've become."
​
"I haven't turned yet. I don't want to. I came to say goodbye. I'm going to die, Father. You did what you set out to do. You killed me." Stefan said, tears sprang from his eyes. "It didn't have to be this way, Father. That's what you and Johnathan Gilbert should write in your false history, that it didn't have to be this way."
​
"This is the way it has to be," Giuseppe said, lunging to break one of the legs off his desk chair. Swiftly, he broke it in two on the floor and held the long, jagged end out toward Stefan.
​
Quickly, without thinking, Stefan sidestepped his father and yanked is free arm back, sending him tumbling sideways against the brick wall.
​
Giuseppe screamed in anguish as he hit the floor. And then Stefan saw it. The stake was protruding from his stomach, blood spurting in all directions. Stefan blanched, feeling his stomach rise to his chest and bite fill his throat.
​
"Father!" Stefan rushed over to him and bend down. "I didn't mean to, Father...," he gasped. He grabbed the stake and yanked it out of his abdomen. Giuseppe shrieked, and immediately blood gushed like a geyser from the wound. Stefan watched, horrified, but also entranced. The blood was so red, so deep, so beautiful. It was as if it were calling to him. It was as if he'd die that second if he didn't have the blood. And so, unbidden, he moved his hand to the wound and brought his cupped hand to his lips, tasting the liquid as it touched his gums, his tongue, and his throat.
​
"Get away from me!" Giuseppe hoarsely whispered, pushing himself away. He scratched his son's hand in an effort to bat it away from the wound, then slumped against the wall, his eyes closing.
​
He brought his hand back to his mouth and licked it off, not noticing that his eyes had changed from their normal green state to red rimmed with veins underneath. He then gasped out in pain. His teeth were aching, his canines were enlarging and sharper to a point, Stefan's hands flew to touch them as he gasped out of surprise.

"What's happening to me?"

​
"How can you even look at me right now?"

​A thick surge of sadness coursed through my veins as my ears picked up on the vulnerability in his voice. "You need to be able to talk about these things, Stefan. I need to hear them." I gently placed my hand on his bulging bicep. "Come upstairs - we can talk about it more and we'll keep talking as long as you need."
​
Stefan slowly lifted his eyes to meet mine, "You're so sure I'm ready."

I nodded, digging through my pocket before fishing out his daylight ring. "And when you feel the same way, I'll be upstairs." I placed the ring on the bed beside him, standing up and exiting the cellar while leaving the door wide open.
​
When I made my way back up to the main level of the Boarding House, I instantly saw Elena's sleeping form balled up in a recliner that was placed at the back of the study. I smiled despite myself, grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch, unfolding the thick cloth before lying it over her. Slowly easing myself upon the couch, propping my legs up as I began to write along the pages of my journal - writing until the time melted away and before I knew it, Damon was sauntering into the study.
​
"Ugh, God," Damon groaned. "You're still here?"
​
I dropped my journal in my lap, setting the pen on top of the page. "Were you expecting anything else?"
​
"No," Damon replied simply, lifting up my legs and taking a seat on the couch before placing my feet in his lap.
​
"So, how was the errand?"
​
"Futile - although, I think I witnessed the teach having an existential crisis." Damon explained, fingers beginning to fumble with the laces on by knee high boots. "Has Stefan eaten yet?"
​
I tilted my head to the side in mockery, "I thought you didn't care."

"Chalk it up to morbid curiosity."
​
My head slowly bobbed, "I think he's getting there. But he's got a lot of guilt that he has to deal with. And it doesn't help that you've spent the last one-hundred and forty-five years punishing him for Katherine and Beatrice getting caught."
​
"This is my fault now?"
​
I sighed, "No, it's no one's fault, Damon. I'm just saying you're not exactly innocent. You've made it your life's mission to make him miserable."
​
Damon gaped at me in shock, abruptly standing from the couch, knocking off my legs in the process. "Let me ask you a question." He stated, moving to stand directly in front of the couch as he stared down at me. "In all this important soul-searching and cleansing of the demons of Stefan's past did you ever manage to get the rest of the story?"
​
"He said there was more."
​
"Yeah, that's an understatement." Damon scoffed, turning around and walking out of the study and into the hall. I quickly closed my journal, following after him.
​
"Damon," I called out, grabbing his arm causing him to whirl around to face me. "Tell me."

MYSTIC FALLS, 1864

Damon Salvatore sat on the ground, his eyes were closing slowly as he felt the kiss of death closing in on him. Damon knew that this was his last hour to live; his limbs were aching as well as his gums and head.

His life was over.

And he was ready.

Him not feeding on blood had caused this.

There were footsteps from behind him causing Damon to turn his head and look. There behind him was his brother and Alice, Alice being a pretty young barmaid from a tavern. Damon squinted his eyes to examine this brother more.

Stefan looked alive. Definitely not on his death bed, the way Damon was. Stefan held a small smile on his face as he grasped Alice's arm and pulled her along towards his older brother.

"What are you doing?" Damon asked in a weak voice once Stefan and Alice were close enough to hear it, "Why is she here?"

"I brought her for you. She's a gift." Stefan said with a smirk as he stared into her eyes, compelling her, "Have a seat please."

Alice did as she was told and sat down in front of Damon.

Damon glanced between the woman and his brother, "What have you done Stefan?"

"Damon." Stefan spoke, "I went to see father. He came at me, I didn't know my own strength, there was blood...everywhere. He was dying, and the blood was too strong. I needed it, I had to have it."

"You fed." Damon stated.

"Yes. And it's incredible." Stefan raved, "My body is exploding with power Damon." The whole time Stefan was speaking Damon kept chanting 'no', "I can hear things from far away. I can see through the darkness. I can move like it's magic, and the guilt...the pain I can turn it off like a switch. Katherine was right, it's a whole other world out there."

Damon stood up slowly as he staggered slightly.

"Katherine and Beatrice are dead, Stefan, there's no world without them." Damon said to Stefan as he began to limp away before being pulled back by the shoulders by his much more powerful brother.

"You can turn that off too!" Stefan yelled in Damon's face as he grabbed his head causing Damon to look at him, "You don't have to feel the pain anymore!"

"I don't want it." Damon gasped out.
Stefan shook his head, "You're weak, you'll be dead soon. You need this! You'll die..."

"No..." Damon whispered out weakly, "I can't."

Stefan then turned to Alice and had her stand up, next to him. Stefan's canines grew as he flashed them at Damon before smiling. Turning back to Alice, Stefan sunk his fangs into her neck, he pulled away after a moment and looked to his older brother.

Damon's eyes landed on the two drops of blood flowing out of the new holes that Stefan's fangs created.

"I won't let you die." Stefan whispered as he grabbed Damon's face and began to lead it towards Alice's neck.

"No." Damon said thrashing slightly, "I cant."

"Don't fight it." Stefan told his brother, "We can do this, together."

Stefan then held the back of Damon's head as he began pulling his head closer to Alice's neck. Damon's eyes stayed locked on the red liquid as he was pushed closer, and closer.

Damon was almost there now, only about a centimeter away from her neck.

He could hear her heart pounding, pumping blood through her veins.

Stefan soon grew impatient and pushed Damon's mouth against her neck.

Damon's mouth then became latched onto Alice's neck. He took a large gulp of blood, loving the feeling of the warm liquid running down his throat, Damon then pulled away for a moment, his teeth growing.

Then Damon attacked her neck again.

Giving in to the eternal thirst.

​Damon took a hearty gulp of scotch, "From the moment that Stefan had his first taste of human blood, he was a different person. I suppose I should thank him; it's been a hell of a ride."

"Oh, my God," I whispered. "He said he wanted to die. That's why he won't feed. Now I understand why, but-"
​
Damon poured himself another drink. "His choice - if he's stupid enough to make it, so be it."
​
"Don't do that," I scolded Damon. "Don't pretend like you don't care."
​
"Where are you going?" Damon called after me, watching with a fleeting glance as I hastily strode across the study and down the stairs that led to the basement.
​
I bolted into the cellar, but Stefan wasn't in there - the room was completely empty, apart from the Lapis Lazuli ring lying exactly where I had placed it several moments earlier. I rushed forward, grabbing the ring in hand before sprinting back up to the study.

Without Damon's help, I had--on my own--figured out where Stefan had gone. All of the pieces of his broken past; betrayed by his father; loves of his life being taken away; shunned by his brother - he had gone back to the place where everything started. Where he knew that he'd find peace within himself when the sun rose that next morning.
​
When I arrived at the quarry, I had found Stefan by its shore, spinning around in discombobulated circles as he muttered incoherent things under his breath. "Stefan," I called out, the vampire finally stopped spinning and met my eyes. "Damon told me the rest of the story. I thought I might find you here."
​
Stefan sniffled, "I should have died that night, just like I had chosen. I should have let Damon die, too."
​
I stepped forward, the daylight ring suddenly feeling heavy in my hands. "But you didn't, and if you die now, it's not gonna change what happened."
​
"Every single person that's been hurt, every single life that's been lost, it's because of me."
​
I pursed my lips, my mind instantly recalling back to the darkest night of my life. "The night that my parents died, Elena and I blew off family night so that we could go to some party. We ended up getting stranded, and they had to come pick us up. That's why we ended up in the car at Wickery Bridge. And that's why they died. Our actions are what set things in motion, but we have to live with that."
​
Tears welled up in Stefan's eyes as he clenched and unclenched his jaw repeatedly. "I made a choice, Elektra. And because of that choice, a lot of people were hurt."
​
I took another step toward him. "You also made a choice to stop, to reject the person that the blood made you. You made a choice to be good."

"No," Stefan stated, shaking his head slowly. "Please, don't do that."
​
I continued to move forward, inching my way toward Stefan. "That's the person who jumped in the water to save the family whose car had driven off the bridge."
​
"Please, don't make this all okay."

"That's the person who saved mine and my sister's lives."
​
Stefan folded his hands, veins bulging out of his neck as he tried to get his point across to me. "You don't understand, Elektra."
​
"Then tell me," I whispered.
​
"It hurts me," Stefan said. "It hurts me, knowing what I've done, and that pain - that pain is with all the time. And every day, I think that if I just - if I just give myself over to the blood, I can make that pain stop. It would be that easy, and every day, I fight that. And I am so terrified that one day I'm not gonna wanna fight that anymore, Elektra. And the next time I hurt somebody...it could be you."
​
"There will be no next time."
​
"You don't know that."
​
"Maybe I don't," I confirmed, nonchalantly shrugging my shoulders, feeling a thick lump form in the back of my throat as tears pricked at my eyes. "But what I do know," I held up his ring, "is that you can take this, throw it in the quarry, and let the sun rise. Or you could take this ring and put it on. And keep fighting."
​
I gently placed the ring in Stefan's open palm, enclosing his fingers around the piece of jewelry. I patted his shoulder compassionately, before slowly turning away - but something was in the back of my mind was screaming at me to do something I knew I shouldn't do. But with a sudden burst of adrenaline, I whirled around, cupped his face in my hands before gently pressing my lips upon his.

​A surge of familiarity surged through my body; nerve endings frying as every muscle in my body ached for more, but I shook away the thoughts as I slowly pulled away. "It's your choice."
​
A deep inhale of oxygen filled my burning lungs as I finally turned away from Stefan, dead leaves and grass crunching beneath my feet while I walked back toward my car. I made my steps slowly and proclaiming, making each second count as I awaited Stefan's decision.
​
"Elektra," Stefan called out. I turned around, watching as Stefan slid the ring on his middle finger before rushing over to me. He reached out with both hands, cupping my hot cheeks in his callused palms before smashing his welcoming lips upon mine.
​
I knew what we were doing was wrong; but in that moment, I hadn't cared.

✥ ✥ ✥

not edited.