A/N: Everything in Italic is a dream! As for your questions-no, the story isn't over yet, there's some more to it and to the other reviewer-I'm sorry, I've seen only the first season of The Originals, so I'm kind of completely unaware of this world and what's going on there.
Stefan's POV
It's been a little over a month since I came back to the city with Damon and I was walking home from a long afternoon shift at work. I was sighing for I knew that Damon would be home this evening and he would be there to scold me once again for not coming on time for dinner.
He's been really grumpy and concerned about me ever since we went to this fancy doctor after I came back, who told him things don't look that good for me. Actually, they were worse than Damon even supposed to, but I asked the doctor to keep things between us. I only wanted my brother to know the basic facts and not worry too much, yet he did so anyway. It was his job or so he kept reminding me even if I was strongly against him spending so much time wondering how he should help me. There was nothing he could do, though, I think that's what bugged him most of all. I was just screwed up and I wasn't strong enough for any kind of procedures or surgeries right now.
He insisted that I stay home at first and rest as best as I could. He was always checking up on me and called every hour when he was at work. I was bored out of my mind and I was uncomfortable being back here to begin with. I loved being with Damon and spending as much time as I could with him and Bonnie. For now things were going good. He signed me up for evening school which wasn't that awesome but I pretended that everything's fine. I had to. For Damon, I had to keep up and not disappoint him.
When we got back from the Gilbert's farm, he grounded me for two weeks just for running away and took my phone, which meant I couldn't talk to Elena who was the only person I wanted to talk to, but I got over it pretty fast. I mean, Damon could be harsh, but he wasn't uncle Luke.
Things kind of escalated when I came home one day and told him I've got a job. That pissed him off to no extent. He didn't want me to do anything physically exhausting and we got in a big fight, because I had to explain that working in a diner and washing plates or making burgers wasn't at all a big deal compared to the stuff I did in the farm, but he wouldn't want to hear it at all.
We fought so much that we stopped talking to each other for days and I was pessimistic that things will change any time soon, but thanks to Bonnie, who was sick of our attitude we made up. She called us both for dinner and gave us a big speech about acting so immature.
He still wasn't okay with it but at least he wasn't constantly nagging.
I began climbing the stairs to our flat, thinking again what the hell will happen once the baby is born. There wasn't enough space for all of us here and I knew that once Bonnie stops working, we'll be short on money, which is another reason why I wanted to find a job. I had to help them. I knew that my father was surely not going to let Damon deal with all of this alone, but I didn't want him to pay for me as well.
We have seen each other only once since I got back and it was only with my mother, who barely looked at me. They were kind of angry with Damon and the decisions he made when it comes to me. I feel like if I screw up even once, they'll step in and ship me off somewhere. I was still a minor and I was impatiently waiting for my eighteenth birthday to come. Then at least if something happened maybe they would stay out of it. Though I doubted it. If I was staining the family name, they wouldn't let me get away with it. They would rather have me go to jail than be out there and do something that might run their perfect reputation. They weren't thinking about me as being a part of the family anymore…not that they ever did as I think about it.
I stop a few steps before our front door and lean on the cold wall, just to take some rest and try to catch my breath. Everything here was so much harder than at the farm. I wish I could go back there and just work all day long and get grunts from Luke than watch my brother's tortured and tired face.
God, he was working so much lately it was killing him. I loved being here, I loved having him so close, but I hated the fact that he was busting his ass not only for Bonnie and the baby they were expecting, but for me as well. He had to pay for all my medications and they weren't exactly cheap. I hated all of that, it made me feel so damn helpless and worthless.
The minute I get inside the flat and close the door, Damon is already peeking up from the living room and frowning once he sees that I can't even catch my breath again.
"You took the stairs again?" he asks worriedly and I nod as I take off my jacket.
He was constantly making sure I am fine and he would drive me insane. He was asking me at least five times in the span of two hours how do I feel and if something hurts and I was so annoyed that sometimes I would go to my room, lie down and cover my ears with my pillow so that I wouldn't yell at him, because that was the last thing I wanted.
"The elevator is still broken" I announced once I am able to catch my breath. I am sweaty and I stink of pancakes, but I want to rest first before I go to bed so I follow him to the living room where the TV was already on. Bonnie was working tonight so it was only the two of us.
"I ordered Chinese" he announces when I collapse on the couch and put my feet on the coffee table, something which both of us were afraid to do when Bonnie was here cause she was kicking asses "Here" he passes by a box as I sit down and I attack it right away, but after taking just a few bites I realize that I'm not that hungry anymore. That happened often lately. I would feel hungry and then after I eat a little I just give it up
"So how was your day? "he asks and I sigh as I lean back on the couch and stare at the film on the TV
"Turn the game on" I grunt with whatever strength I have inside and he furrows his eyebrows
"No. When you watch those things you get all weird after that" he says observingly but I just huff in his direction
"Damon, it's football for godssakes, not porn" I say angrily and try to reach the remote, but he's fast and raises his hand above his head, making it hard for me to get it, because I just won't move an inch more, since I am that tired
"Stefan, I'm serious, brother" he says "Let's just watch a movie"
"I won't be watching you sob on one of your stupid soap operas again, Damon. It's like you're the one who's pregnant and not Bonnie" I joke and he slaps the back of my neck pretending to be angry which gives me the opportunity to yank the remote away from him
"Stop making fun of everything!" he huffs annoyed as I switch to the sports channel just when the game has started and lean back on the couch trying to get as comfortable as I can even if I am having a hard time breathing. Still. Fifteen minutes after I was already home.
"You okay, kid?" he asks when he notices that I haven't responded
"Yeah, just tired" I announce and the minute I do, I realize that I should've kept my mouth shut, because that's exactly what he wants to hear, so he can start scolding me.
"That's why I was against you working so much!" his voice is serious and kind of cold now.
He wants to scold me but doesn't want to get too far because he knows we'll fight. I'm glad that he wasn't too pushy about some stuff-I never told him what happened between uncle Luke and me before I ran away, even if he asked me more than once.
I lied, saying that I just took off and I don't know if he believed me or not, but I didn't really care. I was over it by now. I know that he did it only because he was drunk and he hated me, but I couldn't go down that road right now. Remembering all the times someone kicked my ass, would completely exhaust me.
Aunt Karen has been calling us every week, making sure I was fine and I was grateful to her for that. She was the only one besides Damon who ever gave a damn about me and I wanted to keep talking to her even if I wasn't fond of uncle Luke at the moment.
"Oh God, don't start again, please don't!" I beg him tiredly and I guess he realizes I am not up for this right now because he just crosses his arms on his chest and stares at the TV, throwing me angry looks every now and then.
"Eat more!" he says and I shake my head. I really felt like hell, those stairs tired me more than I thought they would after the awful day I've had "Stefan, come on" he is not as cold anymore, he takes a good look at me and I guess he sees that I'll probably fall asleep soon. He leans closer and takes the plate away from me, placing it on the table "You've sweated" he notices and I realize how wet my shirt already is, but I don't care
"I'm fine" I mumble annoyed and keep staring at the TV, ignoring him completely "Oh, God your poor kid will have such a hard time with you" I say with a smile and let him move close to me. I lean down on his shoulder and close my eyes for a moment "It's good they'll have me to teach them all the great stuff about life" I joke and he laughs
"Yeah, like what? Not eat and never listen to your elders?"
"Exactly" I respond with a sigh, I feel myself starting to fall "Damon?" I call out in a minute and I feel him tense. My poor brother, always getting so worried about me. Gosh, how much I screwed him up "When the baby comes…" I begin carefully "What are we going to do?"
"Well that's a good question since I have no idea how I'm going to raise a child" he jokes but I shake my head
"I'm serious" I begin once again "What are we going to do…about me?"
"What do you mean?" he tenses again and I look up only to meet his confused blue eyes staring down at me
"I think that maybe I should…find a place of my own, somewhere close" I suggest. I didn't want to leave him, but I didn't want to bother him too much "I asked around, there's this small flat opposite of our street. We can still be together but-"
"Stefan, shut up right now before I've got really mad" he interrupts me and I look up at him a little scared by the tone of his voice "You're not going anywhere."
"But-" I begin again and try to move up, but I'm so damn tired that I don't have the strength to do so "Damon I think that-"
"Stefan, I said it once already, don't piss me off! You're not going anywhere. You're staying here with us."
"But…why? I mean it's not even that far away and we can-"
"You know that you're not fooling anyone, Stefan" he begins, his voice getting angrier with every sentence "I know how bad you feel and I can see the exhausted look on your face as well as your trembling hands and your inability to catch your breath. You're not fine and I don't want to let you out of my sight."
"You'll have to. One day" I say with a sigh as I look down and stare at the TV "I'm completely fine."
"Just stop pissing me off!" he cuts me before I can even finish making excuses, he knows I am full of shit "We're not going to discuss this anymore. You're staying with us and that's it. We'll find enough room for three people and a baby and if we can't I'll rent another apartment."
"That will cost you" I begin but he cuts me off again
"I can deal with it, stop worrying so much." I sigh and get annoyed that he keeps treating me like a child. I wasn't a kid anymore, I stopped being a kid when that college boy hit me with his jeep and crushed my dreams into a thousand pieces.
"I wish you'd knew I am a grown up already, Damon" I say and he just laughs out loud making me furrow my eyebrows once again annoyed by him. He digs his hand in my hair and ruffles it playfully, as he stands up and I almost lose my support, when I feel him pushing me down the pillows
"You have a long way to go before you become an adult" he says as he covers me up with a blanket "Don't rush into it." he puts a pillow under my head and smiles "Get rest, smarty pants."
I grunt angry that he doesn't want to get me at all but he kneels down and looks at me seriously one last time.
"And if you come home again like this, barely walking and breathing, I want you to quit this job, you understand?" he pretends to be saying this all calmly and casually but I know that he's angry and serious. I don't say anything and close my eyes instead, pretending to be falling "Stefan?" he calls out, but I refuse to respond "Stupid stubborn kid." he mumbles as he gets up and heads off to the kitchen.
I'm walking side by side with Damon downtown. It's the same night in which me, uncle Luke, Karen and the kids went downtown to see the fair, with just a few differences. I am dressed in my old football jacket and I feel good-I can catch my breath, my heart is not beating out of my chest and my arm doesn't hurt. I turn right to see my brother shoving his hand in the pop corns and giving me one of his gentle smiles.
"What's up, brother?" he asks as if confused to why I seem so worried
"Why are you here, Damon?" I ask and he furrows his eyebrows, stopping suddenly, in the middle of the street we were crossing.
"What are you talking about? I came to see you!" he announces as if I'm the dumbest kid in the world and I shake my head even more confused than before
"But I came back home with you! Why are you here now? Why are we both here?" I ask again concerned
"Stefan, are you okay brother?" he asks and he takes the pop corn away from me, putting his hand on my arm and squeezing it tightly "Do you feel alright?"
"Of course I feel alright! I've never been better! I just don't understand what are we doing here?" he looks away as if he's trying to figure out what the hell was I talking about and then he looks back, meeting my eyes
"Stefan, you came back here, don't you remember?" he asks and I shake my head which seems to terrify him "Are you sure you're feeling fine? Maybe we should head back to uncle Luke's" he announces, but I don't want to go without knowing what's wrong, so I grab his hand, but before I can say anything else, I feel some lights coming from my right, blinding me, I squeeze my eyes for just a second and feel my heart beating out of my chest.
When I open them up and turn in the direction of the light, I see a big brown jeep heading straight to us. It takes me a minute to realize that if we don't move, we'll both die, but then again I am so paralyzed I can barely move. I turn back to Damon, who's still staring at the jeep and I can see he's slowly realizing what's going on too. Before I know what's going on, I put my hands on his chest and push him back
"Damon, go!" I yell out. He turns to me one last time and I can see the terrified expression on his face as I watch him stumble on the sidewalk. I don't get to see anything else, because that's when the jeep hits me.
I wake up breathing heavily and sit straight up in the couch. I can feel the tears coming down my face and my heart beating so damn loud out of my chest, I didn't even have to put my hand on to feel it, I could hear it.
It took me a minute to realize where I was-the TV was still on and there were some commercials going. The kitchen was dark and when I turned to Damon and Bonnie's room, I found the door only slightly opened. He always did this-he felt like he should keep an eye on me, but when the thing was that when he was so tired from his shifts, nothing could wake him up, not even if I screamed in the middle of the night.
Which I didn't do.
There were no screams. Never screams. I had this dream with a different scenario almost every night and I never screamed, but I woke up and I could never go back to sleeping.
That was something Damon didn't know about. He didn't even have the slightest idea. He was so busy preparing everything for the baby who was very soon to come to this world and he was buried in work.
Moreover, I would never let him notice that something's wrong. No matter what. He is already worried enough about my health, he doesn't need the fact that I am going crazy added to my screwed up heart or my crippled arm. Those were enough for him.
I sigh and try to breathe deep in order to calm myself and my damn heart down. I stand up slowly and first head to his door, checking if he's indeed sleeping and then closing the door, so to make absolutely sure there's no way he could ever hear me.
Then I headed to the kitchen, had a glass of water and cleaned up my face. I still couldn't calm myself down. It usually took my hours before I succeeded, so like always in these situations, I grabbed my sweater and slowly, silently headed off. I knew I could be back before Damon gets up or Bonnie comes back from work.
Once I was out, I put on my hood and my headphones, turning on the loud rock music so I would just scare away all the awful thoughts, all the memories, all the dreams that chased me every night.
Here's the thing-it was all good. That's what Damon thought. But the truth is that it wasn't. It has never been. A week after I Damon brought me home, the first nightmare happened. I was not myself and I couldn't figure out why it was so bad this time-I've had it before and I've managed to calm myself down, but when it happened for the first time back then, I was shaking like a leaf, just like I am right now and I just couldn't calm myself down, my heart wouldn't stop racing and I had difficulties concentrating. It was like I couldn't breathe. And it took me a while to get myself together and go out. Outside I could breathe better, it was somehow different. I think it was because I could hide outside. Damon wouldn't know something's wrong if I wasn't home, if he doesn't see me.
So every time it happened, I went outside. I would sometimes run if I didn't feel too bad, other times I would just walk, like I am now. I just don't have strength for anything else now. But no matter what I do, I always end up at the same place.
The street I got hit by the jeep with the guy inside, who was drunk just as I was drunk that night, only I wasn't driving. I think even in my shittiest possible moment, I haven't thought about doing this and I was a rebel back then.
I don't even watch my step, I am letting the music consume me and help me feel better, I am desperate to find something to hold on to.
Sometimes in such moments I would call Elena and even though I never said anything, I think she knew, she always did, she said it's my voice-it was sad. I knew I worried her, but I needed someone to talk to and she was there and she, unlike Damon, wouldn't push me to talk.
She didn't even know why I was awake in three in the morning, she just accepted it and kept her thoughts and remarks to herself. For that I was grateful, because sometimes I didn't need someone to just discuss things with-actually, that's the last thing I wanted to do. I just wanted to take my mind off the fact that I was reliving the same moment over and over again that left me so shattered, I couldn't find a way to get myself back together. With Elena I could not say a word-she did all the talking, she calmed me down and by the end of our conversation my heartbeat was back to normal.
But I realized that doing this was wrong. It was wrong towards her. And in my desperate attempts to keep this a secret from my brother, I was hurting her and she didn't deserve it. She's been through a lot as it is, she didn't need me on top of everything. I realized that, which is why I didn't pick up the phone from my pocket and call her tonight.
It wasn't stubbornness. It's not my character at all.
It's just that sometimes it gets so heavy in my chest as if I am carrying a load that just won't go away. I turn around and see all those things that remind me of my life before-the town is suffocating me. There are the streets where I fought with a boy for drugs, the place where Tyler and I first got high, the bench I slept on after a rough night in some random house where I got drunk and had nowhere to sleep.
And that was just one side of everything-then came all the other stuff-my parent's house. Yes, sometimes I ended up there as well. I would lean on one of the trees in front of our big property and stare at the window where my old room was, remember all the times my father and I fought, or all the times my mom didn't open her mouth to defend me. It was all too much.
But I couldn't tell this to anyone. Because the truth is-there were good days and I was happy being here with Damon and Bonnie and I didn't want to leave this behind, I surely didn't blame them for getting me back here and trying to help me-they've done more than enough. It's just that lately, the days have been more awful than good and I was starting to find it hard to keep myself together.
I am not sure that even if I wanted to, I could explain to someone what was going on. I am reliving the moment I almost died, then I am dreaming about me and my brother in front of the truck and me trying to save him or something of the sort. If that doesn't sound insane, I don't know what is.
I let my feet take me downtown, I don't follow anything or anyone, I actually feel like I am carrying something broken and tugging it behind me. It's slowing me down and making it hard to breathe, but my sane mind tells me that there's nothing behind me, that it's just my fast step that's increasing my heartbeat and my screwed up heart making it hard for me to breathe.
I squeeze the box of cigarettes in my pocket as I take a right turn and almost crash into some big tough guy. He yells something at me, but I don't pay attention-there's nothing around me in such moments-I am so damn lost in my own awful thoughts that even if Damon was standing before me right now, I wouldn't recognize him.
Another turn. I smile-I am getting close.
How it is that it hurts so much sometimes? How is it possible, I wonder? Are we made of pain and nothing else or is that just what life's constructed from? I don't know. That's too hard for me to answer.
All I am sure of is that if I knew there's nothing good out there waiting for me, I would end my life. I often think about that as I lean on the wall opposite of the street where I got hit. It's a nice wall-with red bricks. It's actually an apartment building and sometimes I can hear the people above me from open the window talk or listen to music or laugh or turn their TVs on and I think how great it is that they have it all normal, because that's all I wanted too.
I didn't want to be here. I was drawn here, by some masochistic feeling inside. It wasn't drinking or taking drugs this time, but it was just as bad-it was me coming here and staring at the damn road, reliving it over and over and over again after the dream triggered it.
I took my cigarette out and leaned on the wall as I lit it up and stared at the road like I did every other night. I didn't wonder anymore, there were no questions in my head-this just happened. I broke down inside and I couldn't pick myself up.
I knew that this feeling of emptiness inside won't be gone by tomorrow. I was aware it will actually settle down for at least a few days, until the next dream and then the next time I end up here. It was a repeating cycle and there was no getting out of it. The problem was that I was finding it hard to gather enough strength as to not let Damon know what's wrong. And I was terrified of the day I won't be able to keep it together.
I threw my bum on the ground and finally left the wall. I don't know how long I stayed here, but the cigarette has burned out and burnt my fingers a bit as well. I didn't feel the pain though so I just sighed and made a right turn, leaving the road and all the flashbacks of me getting hit every time I closed my eyes, behind.
I took a deep breath as I headed towards the old football field. I often ended up there after doing this whole thing to myself. It was a place where I used to be happy and lively and energetic.
It was the only place where I could feel whole.
So I went there. There was nothing to stop me from jumping the old fence, it wasn't even that high and I was in a mood to just get to the benches and observe the whole place from there. They must've had a game tonight because there are cans and popcorn scattered everywhere, card boxes and forgotten clothes or caps here and there.
I take my hood off, pull the headphones from my ears and just lean forward placing my elbows on my knees, observing the whole thing from afar and thinking how once, not so long ago, I was running on it free and untroubled.
I was also arrogant and selfish and I was threating my brother awfully, even if I knew he was on my side. I was a bastard. The difference between now and then is that now I am a ruined bastard.
"Stefan Salvatore?" I hear someone's voice coming from behind me and I jump worriedly from my place only to turn back and see my old coach coming down the stairs" What the hell are you doing here, son?" he asks worriedly, but also surprised. He has always been good to me-he was a nice guy who was the only person besides my brother who ever believed I could be more than just an ordinary idiot who fooled around and got drunk every Friday night.
"Coach Evans" I smile back and let myself relax as I grant him a smile. He approaches me slowly and patiently, I notice that he looks me carefully as if he's trying to figure out what's wrong and why I'm here until his eyes fall on my screwed up arm and I hurry to shove it in my sweater pocket as if I am trying to make him less uncomfortable.
He knew well enough what happened to me-after all he lost his best player that night and he was there in the hospital after it all, I just didn't want to see anyone. I pushed all of them away-my friends, my teammates, I was so damn rude to Damon, who despite everything, didn't leave my side.
"How are you doing, son?" he asks as he approaches me and nods back to the benches, suggesting that we sit down. I follow his lead "I haven't seen you in a while."
"I'm fine" I repeat the lie I tell everyone "I was just wandering around, thought I come by and see this place" he sensed the nostalgia in my voice and looked away for a moment feeling a bit uncomfortable, which, however, passed pretty fast when I tried changing the subject "You had a game tonight, didn't you?" I ask and he nods, surprised that I'm aware of it
"Do you keep up with the team?" he asks next and I shrug
"I don't talk to any of the guys but I listen to the games on the radio when I'm at work sometimes. You're doing good" I decide to add because it's true and because I am no longer a selfish asshole, who can't admit that there is someone better than him out there.
"Work? Are you done studying?" he asks next and I know he's not being curious but that he deeply cares for me, he always had and I even though I can see how bad he feels for me in his eyes, I neglect it for I know it was out of good intentions. I let him pity me
"I'm graduating from evening school soon." I explain and he nods, but I can see that he doesn't think any less of me because of that
"I'm sorry that you got expelled" he says sincerely "They should have been more understanding, considering everything you went through" as he says this he looks at my arm for a moment before he meets my eyes
"It's fine, it wasn't their fault, it was mine." I look away because I don't deserve his compassion "Moreover, I think that the only thing I miss about school is this place."
"You were my best player" he says next with a pride smile "I still can't find a better quarterback for my team and I am not just saying it like this." he smiles at me and I nod politely, not having the strength to respond to that "I heard that you went away" he changes the subject, knowing far too well it might be painful
"I did" I respond with a slight nod "But I had to come back"
"Are you really okay, Stefan?" he asks again "You don't look so good, is there something wrong?" he asks sincerely concerned and I give him a weak smile
"It's alright, coach. Just having a sleepless night" I try to make him calm down, but the truth is that I can no longer calm myself down, it's getting hard for me to breathe and I just couldn't find the peace I was looking for here tonight, so I had to go.
I loved coach, but I couldn't talk to him, not right now, I was beginning to suffocate again.
"I should go, my brother will get worried" I excuse myself as I get up and start moving away as fast as I can. I don't want to be here anymore, not while he was here too. It reminded me of all the things I lost and that hurt like a bitch.
"Stefan, wait" he calls out and I turn around just as I am at the stairs, ready to get out of this goddamn place "Just…"
"It's alright, coach, I really should just go" I say with a polite smile and turn to leave again, but he calls me out once more
"There's a coaching position for the junior league" he says and I slowly turn around furrowing my eyebrows "They are still kids really, ten or eleven year olds" he explains and I still don't get what he means "They are just learning how to throw and train, occasionally there's a game or two, nothing too serious."
"I don't understand" I say still extremely confused
"My assistant coach who was coaching them, moved away last week" he clarifies "You remember him? Mike?" he asks and I nod, recalling a guy in his mid-thirties "I have to find someone else in less than a week."
"I still can't see how this involves me" I say and he smiles gently and shakes his head at my childish foolishness, but I really wasn't getting his point.
"You can coach them, Stefan" he suggests and I step back as if I am afraid only from his words "You know the game like the back of your hands, moreover they are just kids, you won't overtire yourself and it's just a few times a week, so-"
"Look, coach, I know that you feel like you should be doing something for me" I say as I raise my hand as if I want to stop him right where he is as he was approaching me before that "But there's no need for that, I am perfectly fine. I don't need your help."
"It's not about that" he tries to justify his suggestion, but I know better, I can see it in his eyes-all that pity, I have seen it so very often.
Every time I meet someone new, or someone from my old life whom I haven't seen in months-they all look at me and see the broken boy with the screwed up hand who got expelled because he stopped attending and had the most awful grades.
The rebel boy, who used to be a cocky douche who was the high school's most popular guy, who partied every day and fooled around every chance possible. They hated that guy, maybe they resented him, especially those who didn't knew him well, but now, that I am so ruined and broken, they have no choice but to pity me. They think that yes, I was not a good person, but I got in an accident and I almost died and that left me screwed up, so they just had to feel bad for me
"You're going to help me. Please, just think about it. It's not a permanent position" he keeps trying to persuade me "Just until I find someone decent for the boys."
I swallow hard as I look in his eyes-I could use the distraction, that was true, but if Damon found out I've got a second job he would be mad out of his mind, he hates the fact that I am working even now.
Then again, I could barely sleep and I was always tired and drowning in those awful thoughts-maybe that will help me forget about that, at least for a few hours. The truth is I missed being on that field, bust since I could never go back there, the next best thing was helping someone else improve their game. I had no idea how I'll do if I start this. I've helped the coach with the little ones here and there but that was only on a couple of occasions. I would probably fuck up.
"Thanks, coach" I say with a polite smile "But I don't belong here anymore." I turn around and start heading down the stairs, ready to go, afraid that Damon might've woken up and realized I'm not home.
"Please, think about it, Stefan" he begs once again but I don't turn around "You know where to find me!" he adds yelling and I run down the stairs and all the way to the fence, in a desperate attempt to just leave him.
I put my hood and the headphones on.
And I start running back home. I neglect my fast beating heart. I can't hear it this time, it's not like when I woke up from the nightmare. I also don't dare close my eyes because I have no idea if I'll relive the accident or see something else-my past and all my broken dreams.
And for a moment I can't decide which is worse.
