A/N: People, I am ordering you right now to listen to the song that inspired me to right this story. It is called 'All I Want' by Kodaline and I believe it was also in Grey's Anatomy but I haven't watched much of the new season so I'm not sure. I need you to listen to it. It is a beautiful song, it holds so much emotion and I'm sure it means something different to every person. I recently went to a gig in Glasgow and someone did a phenomenal cover of this song that sparked me to finish this chapter. I really hope you like it. I do not like it as much as the previous chapter, but I'm back with a vengeance and hopefully these two poor characters will be reunited soon. In the meantime, I do love me some brotherly Defan.

On a totally unconnected note to this story *wink* who do you ship Caroline with? Do we want Forwood? Steroline? Or even Klaroline if we're talking a different story?

Chapter Fourteen

"I'll find somebody."

January 15th

2013

Chicago

"What did you do to your hand?" Stefan asked indifferently, brushing past his brother and walking casually into his apartment. Damon stared at him, stretched for words. His eyes followed his younger brother mutely as Stefan flopped down onto the threadbare sofa and propped his feet up on the worn coffee table.

"Kat sends her love," Stefan said after a while, his green eyes carefully appraising Damon.

Damon slammed the door shut in one swift motion, whirling around with fury written all over his face. "Kat?" he queried, looking at his brother. He paused, a look of horror passing over his gaunt features. "As in Katherine?" he bit out in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me. You called Katherine?" He was at a loss for words, an odd mix of emotions swarming around his stormy mind, his head full of the image of cruel black eyes, full of secrets and mystery and barren of any warmth.

July 28th

1994

"Stefan!" their father hollered through the dusty sun faded halls. His brash voice carried through the dry heat like a bucket of cold water, shattering the peaceful illusion the brothers had woven as they sprawled across the summer lawn. "Get your brother and come up here! Now!"

Damon rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, pushing himself up off the dry grass and sauntered away in the opposite direction of their father's voice.

"Damon!" Stefan called anxiously. He was only twelve, nearing thirteen right enough, but still only twelve. He was still young, still oblivious to the turbulent relationship between his remaining family members. He was uncharacteristically small after missing out on a growth spurt and still terrified he would lose his brother if Damon wasn't careful around their father. "Dad wants us!"

"I know Stefan. I heard." His older brother said calmly, looking his brother straight in the eye. He was sixteen and he was ready to see the world. Really see it, through the dusty windows of his old Camaro. He was ready to escape the confinement hell this house had become. The old dry oak and the creaky staircases sucked the summer out of the air, leaving him and his family in a perpetual winter. The more he separated from Stefan the better. His brother relied too much on him and being honest with himself, if there was one thing he wouldn't be able to stand, it would be hurting his baby brother when he finally left to see the sky. "Just tell Dad I'm not outside. Tell him I went out."

"But he saw you." Stefan said uneasily, wringing his hands together restlessly.

"Come on Stef-" Damon started wearing, running his hand over his face in irritation. "It's fine. Just go in."

"But he'll know!" Stefan whined, pleading desperately with his brother.

"Why are you worried?" Damon asked gently, crouching down beside him to look his baby brother in the eye. It was easy to forget sometimes just how young Stefan was. Twelve years old was young, it was so young. He wasn't even a teenager yet. He laid a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder. "Why do you want me there?"

Stefan looked down; his huge green eyes were darker than they had been in days. "You might leave if I'm not around." He whispered so quietly it was almost impossible to pick up.

Damon swallowed roughly, hanging his head in defeat. "That's why you won't leave me alone." Nodding slightly, he looked down at his feet sheepishly. Damon pushed himself off the ground again and sighed heavily. "Come on, squirt. Let's go."

Stefan instantly brightened, a mile wide grin splitting across his face. He went charging across the lawn, the remnants of a long summer crackling beneath his feet. Damon followed behind him, trailing into the dull broken house with heavy steps and a heavier heart. He could still remember the days when the windows shone and sparkled, the days where the floorboards were so polished he would slide around in his socks, even the days when the house wasn't so shrouded with shadows. He remembered the days when the house wasn't so empty, he remembered the days when things were good and his father had warmth and his mother was alive.

"Damon." His father said stiffly, cutting off his thoughts abruptly. Damon nodded in greeting, his teeth clenched tightly together. "This is Joseph Pierce and his daughter, Katerina."

"Katherine." A striking dark haired girl snapped irritably, her black eyes cold and dark and cryptic. Damon cocked his head to the side, scanning over the girl's figure in undisguised curiosity. She was his age by his best guess, maybe a year or so older judging by the way she carried herself with the utmost confidence and self-assurance. She held herself high, her head on those strong shoulders like she already owned half of the word. Her long dark curls oozed seduction and her eyes burned fire. She was entrancing in the worst way.

"Katherine." Giuseppe corrected tersely. "This is Stefan." He said with a slight kindheartedness flickering across his weathered face. "And my eldest, Damon."

It was Katherine who cocked her head to the side this time, her black eyes as endless and as terrifying as an ocean storm. "Boys, take Katherine into the garden. Try and be civil Damon." He ordered harshly, rolling his eyes at Katherine's father.

Damon bit his tongue to stop his retort bursting out. "Yes Father." He answered stiffly, gesturing lightly to a wide-eyed Stefan. He gripped his little brother on the shoulder and gently led him out the door with Katherine following behind. He could feel her inky eyes burning into his back. Stefan charged ahead, laughing in the innocence he still possessed, unaffected by the darkness that consumed the old house. But then again, he was never really known the light. He flopped onto the grass, glancing at Katherine curiously.

"Why are you here?" he asked quietly, squinting his eyes and he braced his weight against his elbows.

Katherine rolled her head back to the sky, shut her eyes and absorbed the summer sun and for a second Damon felt a fierce jolt on longing for this beautiful girl, but then her eyes opened and the summer faded from her face and he'd always had a particular hatred for winter. "Let's not ask questions just yet." She said with a sly grin, fixing those eyes on Damon's. She lay completely back on the sun-dried grass with one hand under her head. "I think we'll know each other a long time.

Stefan shrugged. "I did,"

"Why?" Damon said incredulously, gesturing wildly form the door with his uninjured hand. "I have a phone you know. I mean, I don't exactly answer it anymore, God knows Caroline's been calling enough but Katherine?"

"Do you really have to say her name like that?" Stefan said wearily, cracking a small smile.

"It's Katherine!" Damon exclaimed, a tiny grin slipping onto his face and he sat down opposite Stefan on the other mismatched sofa. He took a deep breath, lifting his eyes to meet his brother's. "What are you doing here, Stef?"

Stefan sighed, running his hands across his face and resting his elbows on his knees. "I don't know." He admitted quietly, staring at the dull blue carpet. "I mean, I asked her to find you but I never really expected her to find you. Not really,"

"You never expected Katherine Pierce to find me?" Damon repeated dubiously. "This is the same girl we're talking about? I didn't know you kept in touch. I got her out my life the second I could."

"It was so long ago. We don't keep touch." Stefan said, shrugging absently. "But she keeps tracks on you,"

Damon narrowed his eyes dangerously as he registered Stefan's last words. "Why does she keep tracks on me?"

Stefan smirked, looking sheepishly at the ground. "'Cause I asked her too."

"Stefan!" Damon groaned miserably, burying his face in her hands. "What happens if she turns up on Elena's doorstep?" Stefan's face turned stony. Damon kept his head buried in his hands.

"Elena doesn't deserve half the shit you put her through, Damon."

And just like that, everything suddenly crashed back down to reality. "Stefan-" he started softly, refusing to meet his brother's eyes.

Stefan waved his hand dismissively. "Later." He decided firmly. He was silent for a while, long enough for the sun to fully set leaving them in a shadowy darkness. Damon automatically leaned over and switched on the light on the end table, flooding the room in a soft glow. "Chicago suits you." He said finally.

"It's nice." He said glancing around the shabby apartment. "A change of scenery is always welcome."

"You been stationed other places?"

"Was back in Texas. Germany. New Orleans." Damon took a deep breath and locked eyes with Stefan. "I should be getting deployed into danger zones soon."

Stefan's eyes hardened and his face closed off, aging him ten years in less than ten seconds. "What does that mean, Damon?" he said wearily.

"It means exactly what you think it means. It's not hard to figure out what 'danger zone' means, Stefan. Come on."

Stefan sucked in a deep breath, leaning back and collapsing against the sofa cushions. "Where are you going?"

He shrugged casually, barely even mustering the energy to lift his shoulders more than an inch. "I go wherever they need me."

"Don't you have a choice?"

"It's not a choice for me, Stefan. This is my life." Damon said, struggling to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "I'll keep doing it as long as I have to."

"Is that why you left Elena?" Stefan said angrily, his voice rising dangerously. "Why you left your son? Do you understand what they've been through in the last six years?"

"Of course I do!" Damon said loudly, gesturing wildly. "I've been spending every day counting the seconds until I can go home I just don't know when that it yet!"

"You never had to sign on!"

"Yes I did!" he finally exploded, standing up heatedly. "This is what I am, Stefan. I'm a soldier. I've risked my life! I've fought in every war zone possible, I've saved so many lives and I've come home again every time and lived another year! Elena was the only thing keeping me sane all these years! I'm about to lose my mind Stefan, so God help me, drop it before I do something I'll regret."

"Ben has grown up without his father!" Stefan roared, standing up and waving his hands furiously in the air. "My nephew lost his father, Elena lost the most important person in her life and I lost my brother! While you were off fighting, doing something good and making a difference in the world, your family thought you were dead! Do you know what that does to a person, Damon? To lose the person that you're supposed to be able to count on no matter what? A part of them died with you!"

"I'm not dead!"

"You might as well be!"

A long silence followed Stefan's last statement.

"She's better off without you." The younger brother said finally, sitting heavily on the couch and holding his head in his hands.

"I know."

"No! You don't!" he stormed agitatedly, his eyes burning straight through Damon. "You've done nothing but bring her pain and anger and heart ache in the last twelve years. All you've done is hurt her, hurt your son and you don't even realize it. This is a job, Damon. A job. You've done your service, served this country in a hundred thousands ways and paid whatever debt you thought you had to pay all those years ago. You've proved your worth, proved Dad wrong so come home. You have a whole life waiting for you; do you have any idea what most people would do to have what you have without even realizing it? You have a son; you have Elena for god's sake. Caroline is like your little sister, Grayson might as well be your father. You can still come back. This isn't worth losing them over. Trust me, I know. Things aren't easy with all of us, Elena and I fight like nothing else and Tyler makes me want to punch him and Caroline is just Caroline, but I'd never leave them."

Damon shook his head and looked up at his little brother with icy blue eyes that were completely and utterly cold. "But you did, brother. You left them and I'd bet you my next objective they don't know where you are."

"It's different with you. You're family."

Damon shrugged and looked at Stefan with eyes so broken his little brother had to look away.

"How long are you here for?"

Stefan jolted awake, blinking blearily at Damon who was sitting in the same pose as earlier, his face cast in shadows. He grunted incoherently, sitting up in his seat and rubbing his eyes.

"How long are you here for?" Damon repeated irritably.

Stefan yawned and rubbed his temples. He squinted at his brother. "What time is it?"

"Like four a.m." Damon said dismissively, waving his hand carelessly. "You need to go home, Stefan."

Stefan laughed humorlessly and stared at his brother. "You need to come home."

"I can't." Damon bit out through gritted teeth. "So you need to walk out of that door, get on a plane and go home. I need you to look after my family because I can't do it right."

Stefan leaned away from his brother in confusion. In all their years, especially since meeting Elena there had always been a slight underlying tension between the two brothers. Even as children, if Damon had a better toy, or a bigger slice of cake, or the bouncier football, Stefan wanted it and Damon would hold on to it with everything he had. Such was always the way with brothers, or at least with them. Once Stefan had grown up and their father had died and Damon felt as though he could cope without him constantly looking out with him their relationship became more and more strained until it became the way it was today.

"Can't or won't?" he said quietly.

Damon closed his eyes and walked to the fading front door and opened placed his hand on the handle. "Can't," he clarified, holding his shoulders in a strong stance. "And you can take that in whatever way you may."

Stefan picked up his duffle bag and slung it over his shoulder. Stalking towards his brother, his thoughts were running laps around his troubled mind. Damon clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder, sending a jolt of nostalgia through Stefan and acting on impulse Stefan pulled his brother into a rough, fleeting, slightly awkward hug. In seconds it was over and the door was being opened for him and he was facing a faded carpet and water-stained walls.

"They're not just your family you know." Stefan said quietly, staring pointedly down the hallway. "They're mine too."

Damon shrugged. "I love them more."

Stefan bit back his retort and blinked at Damon. "I'm not so sure," he paused hesitantly, meeting his brother's icy eyes. "I don't think they are either."

Then all he saw was flaking paint and the tarnished once-gold numbers of 506 against the shabby white backdrop. He leant his head against the wall and breathed a deep sigh for the brother he had lost. All the while, Damon sat on the ground on the other side of the wall with his head in his hands and that same heavy heart that had never quite left him.

New York

It was quiet again. There was the rustling, breathy sound of the trees in the January wind and the metallic clanking sounds of the old washing machine. There were the familiar pacing footsteps of her father as he talked on the phone for the eighth time that day. There was the heart-warming sound of her son giggling as her best friends chased him around the garden in that rare late-winter sun. But under it all, the sounds, the people and the laughter there was nothing but silence, the loud, deafening oxymoron of old dreams and fading memories. It was the silence that came with the loss of someone who was not yet dead.

Somewhere outside, she heard a car pull up and her heart couldn't even bring its self to jump with hope anymore so it stayed still and silent in her chest. Tyler's deep voice brought a smile to her face and Caroline's high heels clacking along the rough paving stones filled the quiet and masked the sounds of the rustling trees. Elena walked to the front door, pulling open the old wood to see an unfamiliar car parked haphazardly in the driveway. She saw Tyler talking softly to a shell-shocked Caroline; he was whispering gentle words in her ear while they watched her son embrace a familiar face.

It just wasn't the face she wanted.

Stefan disentangled himself from Ben and walked sadly towards her, his shoulders slumped and his eyes downturned.

"You went to find him." Elena said quietly.

"Yes." Stefan nodded curtly, just a brief affirmative dip of his chin.

"Did you?"

The young man nodded his head again in the same manor as before. "Yes."

Elena's heart dropped in her chest. Everything in her suddenly came to a stand still. The silence fell across the hushed air as if the wind itself stopped to hear his answer. "What?"

Stefan shook his head again, his green eyes sadder that anything she'd ever seen in this world. "He's not coming home, Elena." Elena shook her head in denial, furiously blinking back tears.

"No." she gasped as the last shreds of her strength shattered within her. "He's lying."

Stefan couldn't help but wind his arms around her shaking shoulders. "Elena." He said roughly, squeezing her tight. "He's not coming back. He's never coming home."

And Elena did the only thing that she could. She buried her head into Stefan's soft jacket and cried for old memories, empty picture frames and untouched doors. With those four words, every bit of herself snapped like an elastic stretched too tight and once the tears started to fall there was nothing stopping the salty tracks that trailed down her cheeks.