When I hear his steps echoing familiarly down the hallway, I'm out of my room in a second.
"Where have you been?" I greet him, because I'm the big brother and I'm supposed to be annoying like this, casually stepping in his way and stretching out my arm to halt him at the last second.
"Ah, you know...out." he answers and walks past me without another word.
Startled, I pull away again and turn around to see what he's up too now.
"Where are you going?"
"Out." he replies in the same tone, not bothering to stop on his way.
"Okay.." I state in an irritated tone, „I see Shady Stefan's back.."
This stops him. He turns around and slowly approaches me, looking away to the side. My attempts to meet his eyes fail.
Not a good sign.
"Please don't tell me that you're still working with Klaus." My voice drops a level, the slightest trace of worry slipping into it. The risk is simply too high. I can't let him..I can't let him become the ripper all over again.
He looks up at this, his face a blank mask: "Well, you obviously haven't heard." he says, sounding neutral, „Elena and I broke up."
He nods to underline the finality of his statement.
The words ring in my head, but do not make any sense.
Elena and I...broke up...
Elena and...Stefan...broke...
Elena and Stefan..not together...split...apart
When it all, even in its incredible madness, seems to make sense, my eyes widen and my mouth opens, a million thoughts shooting through my head, begging to be voiced out.
"What?"
"Oh, your honeymoon is over?"
"Why even? What did you do?"
"..I'm sorry..."
"Actually, I'm not sorry..."
"Oh..." I finally say, my tone delicate.
Elena is...free. Millions...millions of possibilities...me and...Elena and...
Stefan lifts his chin, penetrating me with dark brown eyes that scream provocation.
And I realize that I've been completely, obviously lost in thoughts.
Blinking rapidly, I lower my eyes and then start to speak without really knowing what I'm saying: "Oh, okay, got it, oh well-" Quickly, Damon, stop being so obvious- "I'll be quick then."
I've caught myself again.
Innerly, I sigh with relief.
"So apparently if we want to find a cure, we need to find a vampire hunter, who'll kill enough vampires to reveal the map on the hunter's mark."
I give him a second to catch up with my plan, then continue: "Now, unless you want Jeremy to go all Connor 2.0-" I raise my eyes, giving him a sarcastic glance in trying to bring some humour into the conversation, "I suggest we find a different hunter." I conclude, smirking.
Stefan is not impressed. Neither humored. Nor irritated.
His expression is again strangely blank, unperturbed, when he nods and agrees instantly: "Ok. And...?"
Inner sigh.
Well, what was I expecting?
"And." I mock his tone, "I was going to ask Professor Shane, but turns out he's shadier than you are." I wait for second, eying him expectantly. There. Stefan forces himself a smile. It's been proven yet again. No-one can resist my humor for long.
And I'm relieved, in a way. So relieved that I reward him with an instant fill of new information:
"Matt Donovan connected him and the pastor with their phone records. Apparently, the two were very chatty the day that the pastor blew up the council."
"Ahh." Stefan says, seeming impressed. That this is acted, is revealed only a few seconds later.
"So you're gonna confront Shane." he states in a bored tone, as though repeating a process he's seen for an uncountable number of times, "threaten him. Possibly kill him. That sort of thing." he ends, muttering the last sentence with visible contempt.
"No." I reply, sounding brightly and suppressing the anger that he stirred up in me and that is urging me to grab his ungrateful little neck and slam it against the nearest wall, "Unless he tells me what he's up to."
Damon. Pull. Yourself. Together.
"What do you say?" I ask, instead giving him a brotherly slap on the shoulder, "Should we tag team this?"
Stefan seems to consider it for a second, then shakes his head, looking to the side, "Noo." he states, before turning back to me to give me a triumphant glare: "I'd say you're on your own."
Dang. Dang.
But what else would I be?
After what has obviously passed between him and Elena- did I really expect him to forget about everything and go on a hunt for something that seems so irrelevant in comparison?
I sense him about to move towards the door again and stop him instantly.
"Why don't we just blow it off then?"
I'm determined not to screw this up, not this time.
He takes a step backwards, observing me.
There's your chance, Damon. Use it well.
"Go get drunk?" I suggest, "Bond over some Tri Delts?" Hell, this is difficult. Again, I've never been really good at the comforting parts. "If you, you know.." I say uncomfortably, then force myself to give him a determined look, "Want some quality time."
Seriously, I could ask him straight-out if he wanted a hug.
Wouldn't make a difference, really.
Stefan appears amused at my hopeless attempts. He gives me this measured, sarcastic look that doesn't fit him at all. Which means I screwed it. Again
"Let's not pretend." he says coldly, "Like this isn't..." His voice drops to a whisper, "the best day of your life."
I stare back at him, not knowing what to say, holding back millions of replies until I've found the right one to- too late.
Grinning sadistically, he slaps me back on the arm and then walks out. I'm left to stare after him , realizing that I was right...I've screwed it.
…...
"You look like a guy I used to know."
I stare him with incredibility. It can't be. It just can't be...
"Hello Damon." Stefan, my long lost, loved, hated, missed little brother says.
He looks fine, as I assess at first glance. A wave of relief washes over me.
"Come to put a stake in my heart?" I ask, half-joking, half-seriously, patting my chest.
Stefan's gaze is unblinking , not moving away for a second.
"More like burry the hatchet." Stefan replies, so quietly that I think I misheard. When he stretches out his hand, however and looks at me with undissolving calamity, I consider the possibility.
We stare at each other for a few long seconds, which seem like hours.
And then I can't take it any longer. I grasp his hand and I grasp it tight, daring him to move away. And he doesn't.
It's happening without my doing, but my lips curve up into a smile, and then I'm laughing, joy and relief flooding through my body and I pull Stefan close into a warm hug.
…...
I'm frantically paging through the records, when I hear his steps echoing familiarly in our room.
"What are you doing?" he asks casually, walking past me and I feel his eyes burning in the back of my neck.
"Elena is sired, you were right." I reply grimly.
Who would have known, seriously? After everything we've been through, does this have to add up?
I won't admit that the knowledge. The knowledge that all those feelings..those moments...were never real. The knowledge hurts, a lot, but I'm not going to give Stefan a share in that.
"You were right, I was wrong." I drawl out instead, "Happy?"
A moments of silence, then Stefan sighs, "No I'm not...happy..." - of course he isn't- "But what are you going to do about it?"
Typical. So typical. Fix it, Damon. Oh , it's Damon. He'll fix it. I've been fixing half of Stefan's life over those past years, while destroying it at the same time. Am I not a genius?
"I'm working on it." I reply obscurely, then snatch one of the photos from the pile. "Here. Remember that?" I pass it to Stefan, who takes it , observing it with curiosity.
"New Orleans."
"1942, to be exact." I complement his sentence.
I hear him sitting down on the sofa. "What was in New Orleans in 1942?" he asks, sounding thoughtful. Seriously? He doesn't..remember?
"Other than bourbon and beads.." I turn around to look at him and speak in measured tone: "Us, Stefan. "Ah." Stefan replies, seeming unimpressed, which annoys me to no end.
I'm supposed to be uncaring and distant and like that..how can Stefan not expect me to be on constant Ripper-Alert if he's being like this?
He mentions Charlotte and I drown in old memories. Charlotte. A new idea enters my mind, even if it seems insane.
"Pack your bags, baby bro.
We're going back to Bourbon Street."
I don't even bother to wait for his reply.
…...
The jazz music is overpowering, booming loudly and cheerfully in the background.
For once, I feel like cheering too. For the first time in decades I'm sitting at a bar with Stefan, drinks all around.
And I'm enjoying it.
I'm enjoying to get to see him after this long time, enjoying to get to hear his exciting tales of what's been going on in the world. And all of his destinations.
"Egypt..ha!" I grin at him, thinking of an exciting 10 year old Stefan who'd always wanted to travel to the "big sand houses." "Finally get to see the pyramids!" I wink at him. Stefan gets it, but instantly a shadow of dread lines his features: "Well, I'll doubt I'll be doing much sightseeing, driving an ambulance through the frontlines but..." he glances at Lexi, "yeah, yeah, Egypt."
He almost smiles.
And I'm prepared to do anything to keep that smile on his face a little longer.
"Think they have room for an extra driver?"I gesture while speaking, "Think I can handle some more...when spending quality time with my little brother." I grin at him.
"Tell you what." Stefan says,and I already know I've won, "I'll talk to my C.O."
He toasts to me, before taking a sip of his drink and sliding off the barstool. I watch him vanish in the crowd of people and order a new round of drinks for us.
Lexi, smiling charmingly, moves a few seats up to me.
"You're not going." she says threateningly, keeping the fake smile plastered on her face, an excellent play we deliver every single time.
I lean in towards her, as though we're having a heart to heart and state the obvious in a contemptuous tone: "I don't like you."
Her eyes narrow and she does what she's best at- starts yet again with the old tales to give me a guilty conscious.
"In 1912, you pressured Stefan to drink human blood-" And she succeeds. I turn my face away, so she doesn't see the guilt lining my features, "He's been trying to put his ripper days behind him, but he needs to see death and blood and deal with them as a part of life. He needs balance, restraint."
"What makes you think I'm not balanced and restrained?" I prompt her, raising my eyebrows daringly. You little...
"The fact that you never have been." she states mercilessly. You think of what you want first, second and third. Stefans better off alone than in your company." "Well, I beg to differ." I snap and receive a glare from her in reply.
Suddenly, Stefan appears and Lexi fakes a smile.
I wonder how Stefan can possibly not notice the tense atmosphere and that we've certainly not been making pleasant conversation. But maybe he does and tries to ignore it on purpose.
Just like he did with me and father, walking cheerfully in the livingroom we'd been having a heated arguments minutes before.
Often, about him. Our mother's early death caused me to think of everything concerning Stefan and how to lead him on his path of life to be my decision, but there was always a second person, a second person who never understood him, who always wanted to force him into the harsh reality of life because it was supposed to be better for him without ever considering Stefan just might not be suited for this approach.
My father, who wanted to send him to military academy, which I prevented, because they would have destroyed Stefan there.
Lexi, who now wanted to send him out in battles with blood and death and despair, which I was going to prevent with all my might. Not again. Being the ripper had destroyed him and I wasn't about to see everything he'd build up so carefully and he was still building up, compensating his guilt with voluntary civil service, be torn down again.
Stefan was...Stefan wasn't made for this.
Stefan was a person of arts, music...journaling.
Not death.
Not killing.
He wasn't me.
It was almost ironic how they all tried to prevent him from becoming like his evil older brother while forcing him into the same schemes.
We clink glasses and I do my best to appear just as happy as Stefan is. When he isn't looking however, Lexi and I glare ourselves to death.
…...
Stefan is sitting on one of the wooden benches lining Bourbon Street, his head hanging low, obviously lost in thought.
A jazz musician plays somewhere and a rush of nostalgia overtakes me. It's true what they say. The old days...they were just the better days...
"How did it go?" Stefan asks, getting up when he sees me.
"I let her go, set her free." I reply, shrugging to show it's not bothering me at all. Even though it does. I'm not in love with Charlotte- not anymore- but I...care. I care enough that I hope she finds someone else, someone else who'll brighten up her life, fill her future...that she finds her path and doesn't get lost in this mad world...that she can manage her new independence...and she uses it in a way that doesn't involve more blood and killing..and that she gets her emotions under control and...
"Must been hard." Stefan's voice drifts towards me as though from afar.
My little brother is staring at me with this unperturbed expression which causes me to suspect something instantly.
"Doing the right thing. Especially when it's not something you want to do." Well, isn't he a little bastard?
"Get to the point, Stefan." I snap, although, of course, I know what he's all too-subtlytalking about.
"You don't think I'm going to be able to do what I need to when I have to tell Elena to stay away from me."
"How, I mean, selflessness isn't exactly one of your most obvious character traits, Damon..."
I hold myself back the last second.
After everything, everything I've done for him..after every single time I let myself get captured, tortured, nearly killed, after all the drenched forests and swampy grounds I've fought myself through, after all the conversations, negoations, deals and threats I've carried out for him, after everything he still dares to...?
I swallow all of this down, because he wouldn't believe me. Not even if he wanted to. So I turn away, avoiding his eyes determinedly. "Yeah well..." I say airily, "One of these days you're gonna realize you don't know me half as well as you think." I throw him a side glance , then snap my fingers to summon a cab. And I can't keep myself from telling him a little snippet of this very long story...just to...make a beginning...
…...
"Ive pretty much been on my own since I've had a little falling out in 1912."
I hiss at Lexi, who's standing there, in the dusty cabin, as patronizing and self-obsessed as ever.
And once again, she thinks she can push herself between Stefan and me.
"Did you ever think that I just need my little brother?"
"And that's why you can't go." Her voice is shaking a little.
I'm taken aback at this- can it be that she actually- under all that egoism- understands?
That she is actually willing to see my point? Listen to me and not rattle off her crap about him being better off without me?
"It might be good for you, Damon." she says, nodding, "but it will destroy Stefan."
Her words hit me with full fords, shards piercing through my insides.
"For once, you need to put someone else before yourself." she says.
I swallow, turning around to look at my little brother, serving his duty at the train station, completely absorbed in his task.
He looks to his sides every now and then, obviously waiting for me.
I want go off to join him...to join him for the next years to come, for our adventures in Egypt and wherever else this world will take us...
"You need to let him go." Lexi says.
I can't look at her. I simply can't as I feel she's right. But I don't want her to be.
Wasn't it me who would be willing to do anything as long as it was for Stefan's best?
Usually, I wouldn't give anything about her opinion. But right now...it seems like the only way out of this.
Staying with Stefan is most likely to cause me to fall back into old habits and to...drag him down with me. And I can't do that him again.
He's been destroyed enough already.
I feel Lexi behind me, watching me closely. And then for once...in my life...I do the thing that is not selfish.
"Good luck, brother." I whisper. And I let him go.
…...
"I didn't know about that." Stefan seems taken aback. Oh really? How should he?
It's not like I'm very willing to talk about my...sacrifices all the time, as though I'm one of these pathetic humans of the kind always seeking for recognition. I'm not a good person. I don't even want recognition.
"Well, next time I'll hang a billboard." I quip back sarcastically, sauntering towards the taxi.
"Okay." Stefan speaks up after a while, "It all may seem like..I'm being unfair about this-" I turn around to see him gesturing along with his words, probably to cover his uncomfortableness about the whole issue "Like I'm upset about loosing...Elena to you...and I am."
I frown, about to give back a cold response about how this obvious knowledge is supposed to help us, but then he continues: "But after all this is over, if she never feels the same way about me as she used to...at least it will be her choice."
I take a moment to consider his words.
"The dreaded c-word." I comment, grimacing, as I know what he's been going through. What we've went through already and we'll be doing all over again. Until someday...Elena will make her decision.
Strangely, the aspect of this taking forever doesn't frighten me any longer. We have all the time now, all the time we need. I rip open the taxi door and face him directly: "I know what I have to do, Stefan." I say, determinedly, the sarcasm vanishing from my tone.
Getting into the taxi, I wait for him to slide beside me and when he does, I tell our driver the address. Stefan shuts the door. As the taxi speeds off through the crowded street, I turn my head, strange emotions stirring inside me as I first see the pub and the the street sign of Bourbon Street flash before my eyes. I don't know what choice Elena will make or where this whole mess will take us.
But I'm sure of one thing.
We'll always have Bourbon Street.