A/N: I'm almost certain this will be my final "Stand By Me" chapter. Never say never, but my feelings feel... better. This series of chapters started with Stefan, so it feels right to have it end with Stefan. No beta, so be sure to scold me (and only me) if you think it sucks. But I hope you like it. I hope my gush of feelings helped you feel your feelings. And now all we can do is wait to see what the actual TVD writers do when things start back up in a couple weeks.

Whispers in the Dark - Part Five

"What's wrong?" Caroline asks so quickly it takes a second for my ears to catch up to her words. "Stefan?"

"Nothing," I whisper.

Dammit, Elena's right. I lie.

"Everything," I say. "Are you okay?"

"Well, actually, no. Why do you ask?"

"I thought maybe you were expecting a call. You answered almost before it had a chance to ring."

"I left a bunch of messages for Tyler."

I sigh. "He wouldn't have taken his phone."

"I know. I just thought..." Her voice trails off. "What do you need?"

I don't tell her I've been holding my phone in my hand, trying to call her since I came back downstairs after my shower. I shouldn't ask anymore of her, not tonight. Like Elena, she's a girl. Just a girl who's lost as much as the rest of us.

"Stefan?" she prompts. "Is there something I can do to help?"

"I just," I begin, but I don't know what to say.

The sound of her breathing on the other end of the phone is more soothing than I deserve. She doesn't fill the quiet with nervous chatter like she used to, although I imagine she's biting her cheeks to keep from babbling right now. It's a new thing we're working on. She's helping me with the blood. I'm helping her feel comfortable with silence. It's a lousy trade-off, obviously, but I wanted to give her something, and that's what she asked for.

"Stefan, why are you whispering? Where are you?"

"I don't want to disturb them."

There's a pause. "They're together?" she finally asks.

"They're quiet in his room with the door closed."

I don't know if that means they're together or not.

"I promised Damon I'd stay awake downstairs tonight," I say. "Elena asked if I'm the guard."

"She's talking?" Caroline asks. "Because when I left, she wasn't talking."

Oh Caroline. Yes. Elena is definitely talking.

"I cleaned the fireplace and washed the glasses because Damon was tied up and he doesn't like the smell."

"Damon was tied up?" Caroline asks, alarm creeping into her voice. "You mean metaphorically, right? As in he was busy doing something else? Elena didn't actually tie him up, did she?"

I'm not sure but I think so. I don't think this new version of Elena bothers to lie. I wonder which knot he showed her. He showed me so many knots, all with their own little songs to help me remember them. But I should've been listening to make sure he was safe. Damon would've listened if she'd gone to my room instead of his. I was lost in my own head. She left the door open to punish me, only I wasn't paying attention and should have been.

"Stefan?"

"Yeah."

"Why on earth would you have a fire tonight?"

"Elena wanted one. She burned her clothes."

"Oh."

She burned everything. Absolutely everything.

"He's always taken better care of me than I do him," I finally say.

"Stefan, no." There's a long pause. "It was really nice of you to clean up. I'm sure he'll appreciate it in the morning."

"I took a shower."

"I did too," she says.

"But then I got dressed again because I didn't think I should be in sleep pants right now, just in case. I even put on socks and shoes."

She laughs, only it's not a happy sound. Not really. "I did the same thing. I threw my clothes in the washer when I walked in the door, I took a shower, and then I got redressed."

"I tried to read," I tell her.

I hold my book in the other hand, the one not holding the phone. It's the only thing I have left from my human life. I impulsively took it with me when I left Mystic Falls with Lexi, not realizing Damon would double-back and burn down the house to get rid of my evidence. Even then I knew what to save. Even when I was lost, I knew what was most valuable. It makes my chest ache to know she, like Damon, won't have a single thing to hold in her hands two hundred years from now.

I gently run my fingers along the worn edges of my book, feeling Damon's letters and his human love for me before Katherine came and everything changed.

"Stefan," Caroline finally asks. "Is this a sober-sponsor call?"

"I don't know," I whisper.

"Do you need me to come over?"

I don't answer because I want to say yes, but I can't.

"I don't mind," she says. "I could use some company myself."

"I don't want to disturb them," I say again.

"Stefan, listen to me."

I'm listening, Caroline. Except she doesn't say anything either.

"What are you doing?" I finally ask.

"Pacing."

"Pacing?"

"Yeah. I couldn't sit still, but I couldn't think of anything I could do. Mom's still working."

"She called me," I say.

"She told me."

"Thanks for all your help. I should've stuck around. It wasn't fair to leave all that to you."

"It's okay, Stefan."

"Not really," I say. "Damon could've seen to Elena without me for a little while. You take better care of me than I take care of you too." Before she can argue with me I add, "I need a drink." I get up from the sofa and head for the bar. "I know you said you didn't want to drink alone, but we're talking. That means you can have one too."

"You think?" she asks in a small voice.

"Definitely."

The air rushes out of her lungs. I hear her freezer door open, and I smile and imagine her pulling out a bottle of vodka.

"Still have any of that Chopin I brought over?"

"No," she admits. "I had to compel the guy at the liquor store. I felt like such a lush when I demanded the entire case."

I can't stop my smile.

"I would have brought you more," I say. "So you don't feel lushy."

There's a pause before she whispers, "I put it on Damon's tab."

I quietly laugh.

"Why the whole case?"

"So I can switch out the cold bottles in the freezer, of course," she says. "It's easier than having to stay in the kitchen and washing and chilling the shot glasses. Remember how annoying it was the night you brought all those different kinds to taste-teste? I keep thinking Mom's going to say something about six bottles of vodka in the freezer, but she doesn't."

There's the sound of both of us swallowing.

"How is she?" Caroline finally asks.

She humped the rug at my feet while matter-of-fact asking me why I killed Damon's compelled girlfriend. Her nipples almost but not quite brushed my chest when she asked me if being a monster turned me on. She called me a liar.

"Stefan?"

I pour another drink.

"Stefan, please talk to me."

"She's."

But I don't say anything else. I swallow the rest of my drink and listen while Caroline's freezer door opens and closes again, and then she swallows too.

"I never gave vodka much thought until our night of taste-testing," she says. "It was just something to mix with other things to get drunk. Sometimes I miss Swamp Juice, though."

"Do I want to know what Swamp Juice is?"

"Vodka and Mountain Dew."

"That's just wrong," I say.

"It's effective," she says. "I'll mix us up a big ol' bucket full one of these days. But I like how smooth Chopin is. I like how it has just a hint of sweet on the front end, and that nice but not too strong burn going down so I'm reminded that I'm drinking vodka but it's not like 'Oh My Vodka!' and then it doesn't leave a funny taste in my mouth. This was definitely the best one."

I smile again and listen while she opens the freezer to switch out the only slightly-warmed bottle.

"I've created a monster," I say. "But it is still vodka. Do I need to be your sober-sponsor?"

"Is Stefan Salvatore teasing me?" she asks. "I think we need to alert the media."

"I'm partly serious," I tell her. "It is vodka."

"Please. It's impossible to really get trashed now."

"Believe me when I say I've tried," I admit. "And it takes diligence."

"And a crap-ton of booze, I imagine." There's the sound of both of us swallowing again.

"Thanks for talking, Caroline," I say. "But I shouldn't keep you. I need to check on them anyway."

"Wait."

I wait. She doesn't say anything.

"Caroline?"

"I'll come with you," she says.

"What?"

"Bring your phone with you." There's another pause. "I don't want you to have to do that alone. I'll come with you."

I finish the rest of my drink.

"Stefan?"

"I don't want to disturb them."

"The fact that you've said that three times now is starting to freak me out."

"Damon's a really light sleeper," I say. "He should rest."

If he can.

"I'll be super quiet. I won't make a sound. I'll just breathe so you know I'm with you, and you can hold the phone really tightly against your ear."

I pour another drink and swallow it.

"Stefan?"

"Okay," I say.

"Okay."

I slip off my shoes and take a couple of deep breaths before flashing up the stairs as quietly as I can. I don't breathe as I stand perfectly still outside Damon's door. At first I can only hear Caroline's breathing, so I press the phone against my chest and close my eyes and listen. Really listen like I should have earlier.

They're obviously asleep. At first I can't distinguish the sound of their breaths, both slow and deep and even. But then Elena murmurs, and I hear the rustle of sheets, like she's moving in her sleep. The murmur turns into a whimper, and then I hear Damon. He doesn't have to move across the bed. He's right next to her when she cries out.

"Shhh," he soothes. "Elena."

"Damon."

The sheets move, like he's tucking her in, or maybe rearranging pillows, or wrapping his leg around hers. I can't tell.

"It was." She's speaking quietly, but she's breathing hard, too hard, like she's been running for her life. "There was a fire. At my dad's office. In the basement."

"It's just a dream," he whispers.

"No," she says. "It happened. I was there. You were there."

"Just a dream," he repeats.

"They were on the floor. Everyone. Bodies. Jeremy and my parents and Ric and Jenna and John and Isobel."

"Elena," he soothes. "Shhh."

"No. They were all there. Vicki and Anna and Kol and Finn and Sage and the mean hybrids who wanted to torture me and Tyler's Uncle Mason and his mom. Rose was there, too. And her friend Elijah killed in front of me. His head was next to him and not attached. And Bonnie's mom and Bonnie and Caroline and Stefan. Even me. I thought it was Katherine, but it was me. We were all there."

"It's okay."

"No," she insists again. "You were there too. Only you weren't dead like the rest of us. They were all dead, with open eyes that couldn't see. And it smelled. Oh. So much smell I could taste it. And there were flies buzzing. Lots of flies. It was noisy and distracting."

"Just a dream," he says again.

"Only you weren't dead. You were tied up on the floor. And I poured lighter fluid over everyone. All of us. Even me. Because I was dead too even though I was there with lighter fluid. But you weren't. You were the only one who wasn't dead, and you were so scared. Because I was a monster. And I lit the match and just walked away."

"Elena. Breathe."

"I can't."

"Okay. Here. Concentrate on this."

They're quiet for a long time while her breaths slow down.

"I like feeling your hair," she finally whispers. "It's softer than the sheets or your shirt or your tie."

"Yeah?"

"I never noticed before how soft your hair is."

And then I almost drop my phone.

Damon starts to sing.

Softly. So softly a human, even a human laying in bed next to him, probably wouldn't be able to hear him. He shouldn't be able to sing on pitch that softly, but he does. He's singing. Damon's singing to Elena, the same songs he used to sing to me when I had bad dreams at night and went running into his room after everyone else had gone to bed. He never got mad, and by the time I flung myself into his bed he was already holding back the covers for me because just the door opening was enough to wake him up.

There were nights I whispered to him about the dangers I knew were lurking in the shadows, but most of the time, I just wanted to be with him. Sometimes I went into his room even when I wasn't afraid because I liked to hear him sing, and that was the only time he ever did. Just for me, quietly and beautifully. He only sang in the dead of night when everyone else was asleep. He'd tuck me into his side and rest his chin on my head and sing the songs our mother sang to him.

Even though I can't see, hearing him singing makes me feel like an intruder. I'm witnessing something he wouldn't want me to know about. Just like his songs used to be only for me, tonight they're only for her.

I want to stand here and listen because it's been so long since I heard Damon sing. But I can't. As silently as I arrived, I make my way back down to the dark parlor.

My phone is still pressed against my chest, and I lay down on the sofa before moving it back to my ear.

"Stefan?" Caroline asks. "What happened."

I can't answer.

"Stefan, I can hear you breathing. I know you're there. If you don't answer me, I'll come over."

"She had a bad dream."

"What?"

"She was having a nightmare."

"I wouldn't think a switched-off vampire dreamed at all."

For decades, my nights were filled with vivid, terrible dreams awash in blood. Dripping in blood. Blood splashed and sprayed and smeared. Gushing jugulars pumping blood where a head should be. Blood that cried and begged. Dreams so real I'd be vamped out when I woke, tasting the blood on my tongue, the screams ringing in my ears.

I reveled in it when I was awake, but when I was asleep, it turned into a nightmare.

"Stefan?"

"He," I whisper.

He sang to her. He's singing to her right now. And she came back to him because she felt his hair.

Caroline doesn't fill the silence with chatter. She lets it be the sound of our breathing.

"He loves her," I finally say.

Caroline sighs. "I'm out of cold vodka."

"I know you and Damon," I begin.

"I know he loves her," she interrupts. "I know that."

"Even after."

"After what? What happened, Stefan?"

"She's."

"She's what?"

"She's different."

"Oh Stefan," she whispers, and she sounds lost and scared, and I am a selfish prick for burdening her.

"I shouldn't have said anything," I say.

"No. We should talk. It's good that we're talking."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she says. "I was thinking, right before you called, that I don't know who Elena is. I should because I've known her my entire life, but I don't. I don't think anyone does because all she ever does is think about other people and not herself. I'll have to meet her, I guess. Tomorrow. Because I don't know what Elena looks like when she doesn't care about people."

She looks naked and beautiful and terrifying. She looks honest and fierce and indifferent.

"She loves him," I finally manage to say.

"I couldn't hear you, Stefan."

"She loves him."

Caroline sighs. "Does she? And I mean not just in the general way that Elena loves everyone including strangers?"

"Yes."

I think maybe she always has. I think maybe it's always been Damon.

"Because I've worried about that. I really have. I know, they've been strangely simpatico from the beginning, but this sire-thingy is just creepy. But does it prove she really does love him? Or does she just think she does? You aren't sired to Katherine, so I don't understand. It's just..." Her voice trails off again.

I love that she uses both simpatico and thingy in the same sentence.

"You're worried for your friend because we're talking about Damon." I say for her.

"I didn't say that."

"You were thinking it."

She's quiet for a second before she whispers, "Would you hate me if I said I worry about my friend because she's in love with your brother, or maybe just thinks she's in love with him?"

"No. But in defense of my brother, he's not always showed you his best side."

"Can a person love when they're switched off? Is that even possible?"

"Damon loved Katherine," I say.

"What about you?"

"Yes," I whisper. "I've always loved."

"I don't mean to bring up the Ripper," she begins.

"No," I interrupt. "It's okay. We should be able to talk."

I listen to the soothing sound of Caroline's breathing, knowing I could never say this if she were sitting in front of me.

"Everyone always calls me the Ripper when I'm flipped, but I don't deserve a different name. I'm still me."

I swallow and listen to her breathing and take a deep breath because Elena said I always lie.

"I have a list of every person I've ever killed," I finally say.

She doesn't answer.

"It's on a wall in an apartment I keep in Chicago. I've never killed someone without first asking their name so I could write it down. It's a very long list that takes up most of the wall."

"Why are you telling me this?" Caroline whispers.

"Because even when I black out, even when I can't remember anything else because I've given myself to the blood and torn someone into pieces, I remember their names. Always."

I can hear her swallow.

"What I'm trying to say is that I'm always me. And Damon is always Damon. And Elena will always be Elena. And you, if you ever switch off, will still be Caroline. We can't escape ourselves."

She lets me breathe and decide what I want to say.

"Katherine once told me," I continue.

"Katherine?" Caroline scoffs. "As in the bitch who stole the cure out from under our noses?"

"Yes," I say. "But she's made some valid points."

Caroline huffs. "I suppose even broken clocks are right twice a day. What's Katherine's sage-like existential wisdom?"

"She told me a vampire's humanity was our greatest weakness because no matter how hard we try to turn it off, it keeps finding its way back. And she's right. It does."

Once more she doesn't speak, and I wish she was sitting here so I could see her face and know what she's thinking because Caroline can't lie. I love that about her. But I'm glad, too, because it would be too easy for me to lie if she were here, and she deserves this truth.

"I'm so sorry, Caroline," I finally say. "You should go to bed. I'm."

I swallow several times because Elena is right. I do lie. I want to tell Caroline I'm okay, but I'm really not. I'm raw and exposed and miserable. This might be the worst night of my life, which is really saying something, and I don't want to lie and say that it's not.

"You should get some sleep," I say instead. "All of this will be waiting for us to deal with tomorrow."

She quietly laughs. "You're a closet Southern-Belle."

"What?"

"Nothing," she says. "Just." There's a long silence. "Nothing," she finally repeats.

"Goodnight, Caroline."

"Stefan?"

"Yeah."

"Will you come to bed with me?"

I don't answer because I'm not sure what she's asking.

"I mean, I'm going to get into bed now, instead of sitting in the living room, and I know you have to stay downstairs because as much as I hate to admit it, Damon's probably right about that. You seem confident that she's still her, but you're rattled too even though you're not telling me why. What if she wakes up and decides she wants to eat someone, you know?"

She abruptly stops, as if she ran out of words.

"Want me to stay on the phone until you fall asleep?" I ask.

"Please," she whispers.

"Sure. To be honest, I could use the company too."

"Do you think I can risk changing into pjs? I don't like sleeping fully clothed."

I smile. "I think so."

"I'm going to put you down here on the bed for a minute."

"No problem."

I close my eyes and listen to the soft sounds of Caroline opening a drawer and the swishing of fabric. Then there's running water while she brushes her teeth.

"Okay," she finally says.

"Your mom come home?"

"No. She said she was probably going to sleep downtown. She has a nice couch in her office. Tomorrow will start early for her."

"That makes sense."

"Yeah. It used to make me mad that she works so much."

"But not anymore?" I ask.

"No," she whispers.

"Goodnight, Caroline," I say again.

"Goodnight, Stefan."

I listen to the rustle of her sheets as she settles into bed. She sighs and fluffs her pillow and sighs again. At first, she tosses and turns, but eventually, she stills. Her breathing steadies out. It's as soft and slow as Elena and Damon's. I lay stretched out on the sofa in the dark parlor, optimistic enough to leave my shoes off. I close my eyes even though I'm not going to sleep. I know I can't sleep. But I hope Damon is. I hope Elena's dreams are untroubled. I listen to Caroline long after she's drifted off, oddly content because there's nothing more we can do tonight. We whispered in the dark and waited for tomorrow together, and as hopeless as today has been, it feels good knowing I'm not alone.

A/N: I didn't set out to plagiarize the Mumford and Sons' song title. I just liked knowing that Elena and Damon had each other to whisper to, and Stefan and Caroline weren't alone either. Everyone is, in fact, whispering in the dark. But the lyrics are freakishly perfect, and it's a lovely song, so you should consider heading over to youtube and listening to it. The live on Letterman version is awesome.