Chapter 14: What you remember saves you
"There are moments when I wish I could roll back the clock and take all the sadness away, but I have the feeling that if I did, the joy would be gone as well."
His memories had not faded.
He remembered being six years old and falling out of an apple tree in the orchard, breaking his arm and the blinding pain that left him breathless as his bone broke in two. He remembered laying in the fields for hours staring up at the sky wondering if his mother was looking down on him, if the raindrops that fell were consequently her tears, her tears for him.
He remembered the rain that battered down on him relentlessly swallowing him whole.
But one memory stood out amongst the rest.
The feeling of a warm body holding him close, pulling him up by the shoulders, covering him in a cloak and lifting him into their arms, he remembered looking up at the heavens and thanking his mother for saving him.
But his mother did not save him, did not shed a tear for him. She did not weep, for she was not there.
The heavens had not saved him, had not sent down an angel from their battalion to lead him to safety. His angel was human, his angel had blood running through his veins, a beating heart, vivid blue eyes, and his angel was his kin.
Stefan remembered staring up at his brother as he whispered in his ear, telling him he was going to be okay, telling him that he was going to save him.
He was always trying to save him.
He remembered the fever that burned through him that night, the fever that tore him apart on the inside, drying him up, leaving him with no flesh on his bones. He remembered the fever that burned through him, the same fever that burned through his mother. He recalled the anguish of his angel, recalled the anguish as if it was his own. He choked on his brother's grief as he clung to him that night. His brothers had grief anchored him, keeping him still, tied to this earth. His brother's grief had kept him breathing, pushing through the fire within his veins and through the waning of his strength.
His brother's grief reminded him of what he was leaving behind, who he was leaving behind.
A brother
A brother, who worried too much, cared too much and loved too much. A brother who ran to his side as he cried in fear of the darkness, cried for their father, for their poor dead mother. A brother whose shadow he had never lived in, a brother whose glow he had flourished in.
Damon had cried. He cried until there was nothing left in him and Stefan cried with him. Cried for his brother, his brother who had seen too much but experienced too little, he cried for his brother who suffered at the hands of a father who no longer knew how to love.
There were some memories that never faded.
And then there were some, some we wished with all our hearts that would fade away. But No matter how much time passed, no matter what took place in the interim, there were some things that we could never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away.
He remembered meeting Katherine Pierce for the first time.
He recalled the light in her eyes each time she laughed merrily at something he said, the narrow shape of her hips as she walked from one end of the room to the other and the sweet pout of her lips when she was denied something she desperately craved. He remembered the fire that had ignited in the pit of his stomach at the very thought of her and the way his eyes had followed her every move.
He remembered loving her. Loving her so much he could not breathe.
Colors seemed brighter and more brilliant. Laughter seemed part of daily life where before it was infrequent or didn't exist at all. He opened up his heart knowing that there was a chance it may be broken one day and in opening his heart, he experienced a love and joy that he never dreamed possible. He found that being vulnerable was the only way to allow your heart to feel true pleasure, a pleasure that was so real it scared him.
But most of all, one memory stood out amongst the rest.
He remembered choking on his brother's love.
His love for the same girl
Where Stefan cared, Damon cared more. Where Stefan hated, Damon hated more.
Where Stefan loved, Damon loved harder.
He remembered choking on his brother's love for Katherine, the same way he had choked on his brother's grief. However his brother's love was not liberating, it did not tie him to this earth. It did not ground him to this life.
His brother's love drowned him.
Left him struggling on the ocean bed without a breath, cutting off his air supply without a backward glance
But he had survived.
He had kicked and screamed, struggled and suffered, swimming his way to the top, shattering the waves with his gasping breaths.
And nothing was the same again.
"Well what is it? You sounded cryptic on the phone; the squirrels in the forest aren't rebelling against you again are they?"
Stefan groaned in irritation. He had called his brother earlier demanding to meet him at the Salvatore mansion for a much needed talk. Damon had been avoiding him lately, waking up early and leaving the house before he was awake, coming in at late hours and sneaking around without a word as to where he was going, having whispered conversations on the phone. He had believed that Stefan hadn't noticed.
Stefan had noticed.
Stefan watched as brother draped himself across the leather couch, throwing his feet onto the table. He looked like the epitome of ease and relaxation.
But Stefan knew his brother. Knew him better then Damon would ever admit.
He was up to something.
"Do you want to tell me what you've been up to lately or are we going to continue to pretend like I don't know anything"
It was Damon's turn to groan in irritation. Throwing his head back he stared at the ceiling in annoyance
"Sounds like you've been hit in the head a few too many times baby bro" Damon replied
Stefan crossed his arms, staring down at his brother.
"Damon, I know you're up to something and for some reason you have Caroline involved. I thought we agreed no more 'shady Stefan' shouldn't that mean no more 'shady Damon' either?"
Damon looked up at his brother, studying him closely.
"What if I told you that I had a plan, a plan that not only solved our Elena problem but also a plan that meant putting Klaus in his place once and for all?"
Stefan's eyes widened.
He had expected his brother to tell him he was drinking from the locals again, he had expected his brother to tell him he had been bitten by a werewolf, he had expected his brother to tell him he was leaving Mystic Falls once and for all, he had expected his brother to tell him he had found God, he had expected him to tell him he was joining One Direction, but he was not expecting his brother to tell him that.
Looking down at his brother he remembered.
He remembered being three years old and watching as the light left his mothers eyes. He remembered feeling as if all the happiness had been sucked from the world and there was nothing left but darkness.
He remembered his brother looking down at him, the look in his eyes as his brother willed him to have faith in him, willed him to believe that he would look after him, he would make it right.
Stefan had put his faith in his brother. He had trusted him to make it right.
"I would tell you that I'm in"
After spending one hundred and forty five years with his brother, Stefan believed there was nothing Damon could do that would surprise him.
He had assumed he had seen it all.
He was wrong.
"How could we have missed this? I mean if this witch actually exists why is this the first time we are hearing about her? You would think Emily would have mentioned her or something, or Sheila or any of the other Bennett's we have encountered over the years"
"Well judging by the ninety pound witch I left bleeding in Charlotte, someone really doesn't want us to know she exists"
Stefan sighed.
During his travels he had stumbled upon many witches during his time.
But there was something about Bennett witches, something that made them stand out from the ordinary witch.
Something that made him believe that they didn't belong in this world.
Stefan watched his brother carefully as he poured himself a glass of bourbon.
There was something he didn't understand, something that didn't make sense.
His brother was selfish.
Damon didn't do anything for the good of mankind. Damon did things for himself. Damon didn't do anything for this town, He did things for the people he cared about.
Stefan was sure it was a very short list.
"Why are you doing this Damon?" he asked suspiciously.
Damon shrugged nonchalantly
"Because I'm tired of waiting for the other shoe to drop, and that's what life is going to be like with Klaus lording over us. We need to have something on him, we need his kryptonite"
Stefan believed him.
He believed that Damon didn't enjoy being at the mercy of anyone. He believed that Damon wanted to be free of Klaus.
Stefan believed that Damon loved Elena as much as he did and would be willing to do whatever he could to put a stop to Klaus's reign.
Because when Stefan loved, Damon loved harder.
But there was something else.
"What if we find her and she refuses to help us, what then? We can't force her to do the spell. It doesn't work like that. You heard what the professor said, it has to be a willing sacrifice"
Stefan watched his brothers reaction carefully, watched for any break in his armor.
But there was nothing, nothing but Damon.
"Then we convince her otherwise" he replied back stoically.
Stefan frowned, he didn't understand.
"Damon, we aren't going to make her do anything she doesn't want to do. It's not right"
Damon turned to look at his brother, and for a brief second Stefan had seen it, seen it before it disappeared forever.
The choice had always been easy for Damon.
Elena's life above all, Elena's happiness above all, it was always going to be Elena. He was always going to choose Elena.
When Damon loved, he always loved harder.
But Stefan had seen it, seen it before it was gone forever.
Uncertainty
"Well if it comes down to which Bennett witch we're spare from being lit up like the fourth of July, I'm always going to choose her"
Stefan didn't understand. Didn't understand what had happened or when it had happened.
But something had happened.
Something had changed.
He felt compelled to ask again.
"Why are you doing this Damon?"
Stefan had looked at his brother tonight and assumed that he was the epitome of relaxation and ease. He had assumed that his brother was up to no good, he had assumed that his brother was hurting people, hurting people that Stefan cared about. He had assumed that Damon was selfish.
But he was wrong.
His brother was not calm, his brother was angry. His brother was not relaxed; he was pulled back, restrained and ready to attack, ready to hurt.
He watched as Damon momentarily looked at him before turning back to the fireplace, his glass long since empty resting limply in his hand.
"Because she deserves a fighting chance"
His memories had not faded.
He remembered falling out of the apple tree, he remembered a loving brother, a distant father, he remembered a life long forgotten, and he remembered a love long forgotten.
Stefan Salvatore was certain that the memory of tonight would not fade.
His brother was winter, cold, frozen and numb. He was also pretty colors, tricks and treats, the façade he showed the world.
Stefan knew his brother.
His brother was darkness.
But something had happened.
Something had changed.
There were edges around the black and the dark and he had seen it. He had seen the flash of color that had streaked out amongst the gray.
For the second time in his extended life, Stefan Salvatore knew nothing would be the same again.
Stefan had stayed alive for years, clinging to his memories, hoping that they were nothing but a dream, a delusion. He had tried, tried to push them back into the dark, but they had come back, back to haunt him, back stronger and more vivid than ever. He recalled the days where he remembered that all there is are memories. If you face those, you'll be free. Days where he reminded himself that he could not spend the rest of his life hiding from himself; always afraid that his memories would incapacitate him, and they would if he continued to bury them.
But there had been days, days when the darkness had receded, days when he hadn't pushed, hadn't made himself forget.
Because he remembered, remembered that the only possession he owned that rightfully belonged to him was his memories and his memories had not left him.
His memories had not faded.