Never Knowing

Chapter 2- Couldn't Care Less

Thanks for the idea of a magic revival. This is kind of strange, I wasn't sure whether it would work. I don't know if I should re-write it, so let me know. Now,we have something special. A resurrection. Oh, sweet resurrection…

t.t.f.n.

Stefan didn't hear Ric enter the boarding house. That may have been strange, but he couldn't have cared less.

When Ric tapped him on the shoulder and asked him what the hell was wrong with Damon he didn't so much as bat an eyelid. Ric may have been annoyed but he couldn't have cared less.

As soon as Ric started yelling at him he ran his fingers through Damon's hair again, as if to make sure his brother didn't feel scared. It may have been silly but he couldn't have cared less.

It was only when Ric ran in front of him and shook his unresponsive brother rather violently that he snapped.

In the next second Ric was thrown across the room and landed with a sickening crunch on the floor. The teacher looked back at Stefan with confused and angry eyes but that look was lost as soon as he saw the younger vampire cradling his brother protectively against his chest.

Stefan knew that he could've seriously injured Ric but at that time, he couldn't have cared less.

And so Ric picked himself up, walked over to Stefan and told him that they would fix it. He looked into the vampires eyes and made him look back. He ordered Stefan to take Damon to the Witch House and promised to bring Bonnie. He didn't know if she wanted to help, but at that moment he knew that Stefan didn't care. That he couldn't have cared less.

Stefan stood up and carried his brother out of the boarding house rather reluctantly. He had promised not to move, but if he didn't he wouldn't ever move again. He walked the entire way to the Witch House, trying not to think about how vulnerable Damon looked at that moment. Any-one could have hurt his brother, killed him even, if Stefan wasn't holding him so tightly. The thought made him shudder. And so, because he had already broken his first silent vow, he made another one. No-one would hurt his brother. If they did he would kill them. Rip them to pieces and drain them dry. He swore than he would keep his word this time, no matter what would happen if he did. If what he would do would throw the world into war, he wouldn't be able to care less.

Stefan walked straight into the Witch House, to the right and down a set of stairs. There was a little room at the bottom, one with a rug on the floor and some un-lit candles on shelves along the walls. He sat down, holding Damon in his lap, and brushed his brother's hair out of his closed eyes again. The room was dusty and the air was stale, but he couldn't have cared less.

Stefan looked up at the ceiling, his eyes shining with tears. He didn't know if they could hear him, but still he begged the witches to help him, to bring his brother back so he could make everything right. It seemed like hours, but that didn't matter. He cared now. He had never cared more. He didn't stop crying or pleading with the air, unsure if he was being heard and listened to or heard and ignored. He knew that they could hear him though. He thought that the whole world could have heard him at that point.

He didn't hear Alaric arrive out-side, with or without Bonnie. He never thought that she would help anyway. He didn't hear the rain that had started to fall, or the storm that had followed it. He had thought that it was going to be stormy anyway. He didn't hear the candles flicker into life. He knew that that happened here sometimes when the witches sensed people in the house. Part of him wondered why they had been lit now, even though he was not a person and the witches definitely knew that. The other part of him couldn't have cared less. He no-longer heard his own cries or felt the tears run down his cheeks, but he knew that they were still pouring. He never expected them to stop. He wouldn't have wanted them to. He thought that maybe all the noise had all mingled in with the wind, which was all he could hear anymore. His arms were so tight around Damon that he thought he could have felt his brother's stomach digesting if it had been digesting anything, which he knew it wasn't. The second before he stopped begging was the second when he looked down at his brothers face. Damon looked so delicate, so fragile, so vulnerable. That was when a thought hit him. It hit him so hard that he thought a gun had been fired and the bullet was ripping its way through his skull.

They were brothers and they were supposed to love each other.

That hurt him like nothing else would.

"Please," he whispered. Stefan didn't recognize the sound of his own voice. He couldn't have cared less. "Bring him back. Come back…"

Stefan closed his eyes again and pressed his lips softly against his brother's forehead. Nothing mattered anymore. He cared. Damon helped him, made him care, but Damon would never know that he really, truly did.

"I love you brother."

He thought they would be the last words he would ever say. He didn't know if any-one had heard him. If every-thing was going to be okay. He wanted it to be okay so, so badly but his mind told him that it would never be that way. When the room started to shake and candles almost burst as their little flames reached for the sky his heart told him something else entirely.

And because he couldn't hear much of anything anymore and what he did hear sounded mixed in with the wind, he didn't realize that Damon had started gasping for air. The wind sounded different though and that was enough to make him want to look down. He didn't though, because suddenly Damon was clinging to him just as tightly as he was clinging to Damon. He didn't know how it happened but he knew for sure that it definitely did. Stefan felt the world crash back into place. He could hear and see and feel again and it was brilliant. The rain sounded like rain, the thunder sounded like thunder and Damon's harsh gasps sounded like what he imagined the best sound in the world would be. His eyes weren't foggy and he could see every tiny bit of dust in the room. He wanted to see Damon, but he refused to let go. He didn't mind that though, not when he could feel Damon moving again. His brother was shaking and breathing and clinging to him and he had never felt more relief or happiness in his life. He thanked the witches in his mind, but he didn't think that they had heard him. He couldn't make his voice work, or shape the words he wanted to shape. Still, he knew that the witches knew how grateful he was though, and were probably leaving him and Damon alone now. As grateful as he was, he didn't care about any-one else.

The world could have been exploding, splitting in two, falling to pieces beneath his feet and in that single, tiny, insignificant and yet incredibly important moment he couldn't have possibly, no matter what the circumstances were or could have been, ever, have cared less.

And yet, he had never cared more.

...

I just went through and fixed all the Stefans, so let me know if i missed any.