Here's a klefix for you guys! :) Yes, I did coin that term and it is copyright - mine! :D
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Falling Into the Past
Stefan stared.
"You...I..." He faltered, brow furrowing. Blonde hair, full pink lips and those gorgeous blue eyes. He looked so, so familiar and yet Stefan was sure that he was a complete stranger. He knew without a doubt that if he'd met this walking temptation before he would definitely remember it.
Nevertheless he couldn't help but ask. "Have we met before?"
The small smirk that grazed the strangers lips was too familiar to ignore, and such a comfortable expression on the blonde. Alluring. He was a vampire, of that much Stefan was certain – the main practically exuded power in a manner that screamed dangerous.
"Of course we have, Stefan." And that was the clincher. It was said in a tone that left no room for argument and he knew at once that it was the truth. He knew this man. The information was fleeting though, slipping through his fingers. He always felt like he was missing something.
"I don't remember," he admitted warily, feeling out of his depth – being studied like prey. It was obvious he was lacking some important knowledge here but Stefan found he was too exhausted to be irritated, only curious.
The smirk had yet to disappear from the stranger's lips and he was issued with a knowing look. "Yes, Stefan. You do." One minute he was marvelling at the intense shade of blue he couldn't quite place in his mind and the next he was falling. Spiralling into the past, a million memories all flashing passed him at once before his mind's eye.
A jazz club, a woman, a man. A kill, a drink, a dance.
Stefan's jaw fell open. "Klaus?" He questioned disbelievingly, just managing to stay upright, a little giddy from the sudden head spin of regaining what seemed like thousands of moments, all captured in time. Things he did, things he said...things he felt. It all slammed into him in one big rush and he scrambled to sort his cluttered mind into some sort of order.
"It's been a long time, ripper." The man in front of him murmured, taking a swig of his drink and in Stefan's mind he envisioned them at another bar in another time.
"What...?" He struggled for words.
"Take some time," the older vampire shrugged his shoulders, getting up from his barstool and draining the rest of his drink. "Let it all...sink in." He murmured leaning closer to the brunette. "I'll come for you." It was another whisper, a warm breath brushing the shell of his ear and then, he was gone. Just like that.
And Stefan was left to sort himself out alone.
He was startled, confused and a little scared, he would admit it. But for the first time in decades he felt...complete. The piece of him that had been missing for years, every time he had a stray thought that slipped through his fingers or a niggling curiosity beyond his grasp – this was it. His memories.
Klaus, Klaus and his blonde bombshell of a sister...Rebekah. He had been a cocky bastard back then, tearing out throats up and down the eastern seaboard...his reputation had preceded him. He'd liked the attention from the two original vampires, something so strong being interested in him? His ego had loved it.
So he'd gotten close to them both...forged bonds of friendship. He'd led Rebekah on at first, not for a second was he romantically interested in her, but her attention – that he liked. He'd done the same with her brother at first, though a little less successful. Klaus and Rebekah both knew when they were being lied to – it was like a sixth sense for them. Fortunately for Stefan he was good at it and he passed by Rebekah without a hitch, the blonde never looking further passed his cocky ripper douche façade.
Klaus however was another matter. Klaus saw straight through Stefan like his mask wasn't even there in the first place. Somehow in a short amount of time he knew Stefan. His hopes and dreams, his fears and doubts...He knew him inside and out in terrifying clarity. And that drew Stefan in all the more.
What started out as an act became genuine friendship. Though Klaus didn't share a lot of himself they became close comrades in a short amount of time, Stefan finding himself drawn even more to the mystery of the original – the enigma that was Klaus.
After a while though Stefan wanted more from Klaus. He wanted to know more, to see more, to do more. Just more.
Stefan was a charmer even back then. He was sleazier about it in those days, only using his natural charisma to pick up one night stands to relieve sexual tension or, of course, when he was in need of a decent meal.
Every now and then though the natural, virtuous Stefan's charms would shine through and he'd make a comment or a gesture that would raise a few eyebrows. A few subtle moves here and there to feel out the older vampire and gauge his position.
His attentions had been noticed of course, by both Klaus and his sister who turned into a right harpy when she realised she'd been played. But it would all be worth it, he believed. At least until he'd forgotten.
Without that gap in his memory now he knew he'd been so close to something. But then it all came crashing down. He had to be grateful he supposed that when his memories were taken he didn't have the opportunity to feel betrayed. That he couldn't feel burned, didn't know to be upset.
And yet, he still didn't know why Klaus had made him forget in the first place. He could close his eyes now and picture the original's face in perfect clarity and he knew – he knew – he saw regret there.
It was evidenced enough by the fact that Klaus had found him again and returned his memories, for there was no way their meeting in the bar had been just a coincidence, a freak act of nature...no. This was intentional.
Did Klaus just expect them to pick up where he left off?
That was impossible. Stefan wasn't that person anymore. Though he supposed he was well on his way to becoming it again. He couldn't just ignore the decade that had passed though, everything that had happened to him, it wasn't all just about to go away.
He wanted different things now. A normal human life perhaps. Elena.
What would she think of all this? He didn't even want to know. He couldn't afford to be apologetic to her though. He was a vampire and that wasn't going to change. She needed to realise that this was real life, not a twilight movie and he wasn't going to just stop feeding from humans simply because humanity deems it wrong. Of course they do – they're the ones getting eaten.
He was a predator and he would act like one if he wanted to.
Ironically it didn't take more than a second for him to decide that now when he'd been struggling with it for so long – and with Elena for the past however many months. But he was torn completely over what to do about a certain blonde original whose face seemed to now be seared into the back of his eyelids.
Sighing, Stefan got up and left the bar, deciding to head back to Mystic Falls for the night. Despite the fact that he wasn't going to stop feeding off humans and as of tonight he was no longer dating Elena, he still had a life there.
Hey, it was his town first right?
The only problem would be avoiding his brother when he got in tonight, he contemplated as he shifted his car into gear, because he'd been a little messy when feeding and even without his jacket on the scent of blood still lingered strongly around him.
For the first time he wished his brother had not calmed down and eased into the life of a typical Mystic Falls citizen. If Damon still fed from people then this downward spiral he had going on here would be a lot easier – less difficult to hide and a whole lot less judgement being sent his way.
Unfortunately it seemed that as of late he wasn't the only Salvatore brother Katherine's look-a-like had charmed.
The next morning dawned bright and Stefan groaned, rolling over in his bed. He enjoyed the human indulgence of sleeping in far too much. The prospect of what was ahead for today made him want to do something else impulsively human – like bashing his head against a wall.
He would really prefer to stay at home in bed today with a bottle of whiskey than have to go to some stupid community event, but one: he and Damon both had to keep up appearances in front of the council and two: he had to once again sort out his older brother's messes. Mason Lockwood needed to be dealt with before he started stirring up more trouble than he was worth. That and he took a shot at his older brother and that just wasn't on. Stefan had been feeling strangely protective of Damon lately, despite the fact that he watched his younger brother like a hawk, just waiting for him to slip up and kill someone.
Sometimes he wondered if Damon knew where he went 'after hours', but he shook it off. Surely he would have said something, if not to Stefan himself then to Elena. He was sure the moment he slipped up Damon would move in on the beautiful brunette, regardless of whether she and Stefan still had an unspoken 'thing' or not.
That was another reason he wanted to stay in bed today – Elena. She was going to be there with the rest of the Mystic Falls group of course, the day having been planned for weeks. He wasn't looking forward to having to speak to her, which he definitely would. Despite the fact that Katherine didn't want them on friendly terms, Stefan couldn't leave their relationship as it was.
It wasn't as if he didn't still care about her, he just didn't care enough to change for her and if she stayed steadfast in her resolve then they just couldn't be together due to a difference of opinion. That didn't mean they couldn't be friends though and despite their fight last night, Stefan felt terrible being on anything less than cordial terms with her.
She wasn't Katherine, she hadn't done anything truly terrible to deserve his ire.
Having pulled on a grey t-shirt and some jeans, he picked up his Ray Ban's before heading downstairs. He found the morning after he'd had a good feed his eyesight picked up exceptionally from the intake of human blood and on days like today when it was particularly warm the sunlight's glare really burnt into his retinas.
He snuck down to the basement, hearing his brother's shower running full blast upstairs and assuming he'd be a while – that was Damon's guilty human indulgence, hot showers and steaming baths.
Luckily for him his brother never seemed to notice one or two blood bags missing from his stash down in the cellar ice-box, probably because Caroline fed from them as well. It wouldn't be completely unreasonable to assume that she'd had a feed or two in the boarding house once or twice.
Newborn vampires tended to get notoriously peckish, their appetite larger than normal for a good while after the change.
Stefan groaned as his teeth sank into the plastic lining of a blood bag, not bothering to heat it up. Getting them from here was one thing, but venturing upstairs to nuke them in the microwave? A little bit too risky.
He drained one and then another before looking down at the empty, bloodstained bags and wondering where he was going to dispose of them this time. Quietly he snuck up the cellar stairs and darted into the kitchen, dropping them into the trash can before moving more trash on top.
He felt ridiculous.
Especially when he heard his brother clear his throat behind him.
"So...how long has that been going on?" If looks could kill.
"Damon," Stefan glared back, "just don't-"
"Tell Elena?" His brother finished for him, giving him a calculating once over. "Ok." He agreed slowly, much to his younger brother's shock.
"Just ok?" Stefan raised a brow, eyeing his brother sceptically.
"Yeah," Damon agreed casually. "You don't seem to be running off the rails yet Stef, so I'll let it slide for now."
He nodded silently. He didn't know whether his brother thought he was just indulging in a blood bag every now and then or whether he actually knew the truth. He definitely didn't know his little brother had been killing people, that much was obvious.
Unable to gauge his brother's knowledge he decided not to dwell on it, especially in front of Damon because the eldest Salvatore brother had no problem reading Stefan like an open book – not everything had changed since they were kids.
They walked to the council's little get together, neither wanting to bother with the pretence of driving a car out and it gave Stefan's eyes time to adjust behind his sunglasses. He also had a moment to think of what he was going to say to Elena, unfortunately nothing came to him so when he found himself standing in front of her all he could say was, "I'm sorry."
She wasn't impressed by his efforts it seemed and he didn't think, judging by the look on her face, that anything less than 'I'm an idiot, I want to get back together' was really going to cut it with her. So much for friendship and a congenial mood, he really hoped Katherine was watching this because it was painful.
"Elena, c'mon!" He tried again. "Can we at least just be civil about this?"
The brunette rolled her eyes and flicked her hair out of her face with her free hand. "No Stefan, we can't." She frowned, putting down the paintbrush she was working with and putting both hands on her hips. "You want to let other people dictate our relationship."
He glared darkly, "I'm trying to keep you safe." Wasn't that what he always did? Kept her safe? And no matter what always chose whatever option was in her best interest?
"You can't let other people decide for us!"
He chuckled sarcastically. Didn't she realise that was a little hypocritical? The indignant act she was putting on that we couldn't let other people control us and make our decisions for us yet that was exactly what she had been doing to him the last six months of their relationship.
"What, like you haven't been deciding things for me?" He sniped back, letting his annoyance seep through into his voice.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She exclaimed attracting the attention of a few people in close proximity. Caroline of course had been listening the entire time, standing a foot away, eyes darting between the two unabashedly. At least something would come out of this – Katherine would enjoy their little spat.
"What that's supposed to mean Elena, is that you've been trying to control what I eat for the past half a year!" He hissed darkly, not needing some of the more supernaturally unaware citizens to hear his statement, or worse, the council members.
Elena stared at him, seemingly appalled. "You can't drink from humans Stefan – it's wrong!" She hissed back, gesturing angrily with her hands.
Stefan rolled his eyes. "You're only saying that because you're food," he noted darkly before stalking away.
Why couldn't things go right for him today? Things with Mason Lockwood didn't exactly go swimmingly and now this? Great.
He made his way over to the rotunda where his brother was just finishing up a quick conversation with Liz, no doubt dealing in council business and some sort of underhanded attempt to boot Mason out of the loop for good.
Damon was already facing him and Stefan was sure he'd been using his vampire hearing to attune to his whole conversation with Elena, all the while keeping the sheriff satisfied. Great.
As he arrived Liz turned to leave but not without sending Damon a loaded look that had Stefan wondering about the details of their conversation.
"So, trouble in paradise?" Damon began sarcastically and Stefan groaned, holding his hand palm up in his brother's face.
"Don't, seriously, don't even start Damon." He ran a hand through his hair, feeling his neck twinge uncomfortably. How could he still have discomfort in his spine and feel tired and exhausted and all these other human hindrances? He was supposed to be above all this now.
"I'm going to go and...have a chat, with Mason Lockwood." Damon said mischievously and Stefan sighed knowing there was no point in trying to stop him.
"You're going to get us killed Damon." He warned, but didn't make a move to challenge him otherwise.
His brother simply shrugged, replying with a smirk and a, "nah!" Before moving through the crowd and after the resident werewolf.
Absent-mindedly he picked up a plastic cup of punch from the table behind him and took a swig, eyes widening as his entire mouth came alight. "Fuck," he groaned, coughing and spluttering and would have collapsed to the ground if not for the pair of solid, cotton clad arms holding him up.
"Easy, ripper." Came the warm British accent and Stefan clung to him, eyes clenched shut in pain.
"Vervain," he croaked out, gripping tightly onto Klaus as his breathing slowly returned to normal, though his throat still felt like he'd poured something volcanic down there.
The taller vampire held him in place, a hand running soothingly across his back until Stefan calmed enough to release his tight grasp on the original's arms and step back, realising his face had been buried in the blonde's neck.
He gasped tightly, a hand reaching up to rub at his throat. "Thanks." He muttered, staring up into azure orbs hesitantly, hardly believing what he was seeing. It was difficult to associate memories of a past life he never knew he had with his present thinking.
In seconds Damon was there, a hand on Stefan's shoulder, a predatory gaze looking over the newcomer. It took Stefan a moment to realise that Damon didn't know Klaus and realising a vampire on first sight was seeing him as a potential threat, for that was all that had come their way lately.
"What happened?" His brother grit out, eyes darting between Stefan and Klaus and then back again.
"The punch is spiked with vervain," Stefan groaned, swaying a little on the spot, and Damon's attention was sharply diverted when Klaus reached out to steady him.
"Who's this?" His lip curled and Stefan rolled his eyes.
"He's a friend Damon, we have bigger problems." His teeth were grit as he spoke, throat still raw from the damaging herb.
Damon looked at Klaus calculatingly for a moment before turning grudgingly back to Stefan. His brain seemed to finally process what had happened because his eyes narrowed to slits. "Lockwood. That werewolf is dead."
"Wait, wait!" Stefan raised his hands, trying to placate his murderous older brother before he exposed them both in the middle of this quaint little family affair.
"No, Stefan! I'm not listening to anymore of your 'give peace a chance' crap, he's dead." Damon's expression was thunderous and Stefan glanced quickly to the side to see Klaus giving a raised eyebrow.
If he didn't realise before that Stefan was no longer the 'Ripper of Monterrey' then he sure as hell did now. Annoyed, he clenched his jaw and turned back to Damon. "As, I was saying," he spat out, "I don't like it but he's making threats, he could expose us. We need to put him down."
Damon couldn't hide his surprised, yet impressed look and nodded. "Alright then."
When they were younger Stefan would get this warm feeling in the bottom of his stomach whenever he impressed Damon. He looked up to his older brother, in fact most of the time he wanted to be just like him. Stefan had that feeling now and he wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not.
He did notice however the smirk that crossed Klaus' face and he would vehemently deny that any butterflies rose in his stomach from that.
"Want me to take care of him for you, love?" The blonde asked and Stefan wondered how he'd gone the last half a century without hearing that accent at least once a day.
Damon made a quick decision for them, taking Stefan's arm and pulling him away in hurried strides. "Nope, we're good!" He exclaimed, before looking back over his shoulder and saying, "don't go anywhere though, we'll deal with you later!"
Stefan just shook his head. His cocky brother didn't know what he was getting himself into. Typical Damon, dive in head first, ask questions later.
So, when I wrote Collision I hadn't seen the new ep – holy crap. Klaus basically said the exact same thing in the ep as I wrote, clearly klefan is canon. OTP.
Oh and I just posted another quickie too, Oblivious. (:
What do you guys think of 'big bad' Stefan and slightly nicer ('damonized') Klaus? Are the writer's spot on or off the mark?