Chapter 11: Fury Unleashed

The Camaro screeched to a halt outside the boarding house, its headlights slicing through the dark like a warning. Damon stepped out, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the frame. The chill of the night air barely registered as he marched up the steps, his jaw tight, every muscle in his body coiled with fury.

He threw the door open, the heavy wood crashing against the wall. The sound echoed through the empty halls like the toll of a bell. Damon didn't stop. His footsteps were loud, deliberate, a storm rolling through the house as he ascended the stairs with hellfire in his eyes.

Caroline's voice drifted faintly from Stefan's room, too soft to make out the words, but her tone carried a gentle insistence. Damon didn't bother to knock. He shoved the door open with enough force to send it slamming against the wall, and Caroline shot up from her seat on the bed, startled.

"Damon? What are you doing?" Her voice was high, alarmed, but Damon didn't even glance at her.

His focus was entirely on Stefan. His brother sat on the edge of the bed, his shoulders hunched, his hands limp in his lap. He looked up slowly, his eyes dull, as if he were waking from a long sleep. His once-sharp features were gaunt, shadowed by weeks of guilt and self-loathing.

Damon crossed the room in a flash, grabbing Stefan by the front of his shirt and hauling him to his feet.

"You selfish bastard!" Damon roared, his voice thick with venom.

"Damon, no!" Caroline shouted, rushing forward, but she froze when Damon threw Stefan to the ground with a crash that made the floorboards tremble.

Stefan barely reacted. He didn't lift his hands, didn't try to fight back as Damon loomed over him, his fists clenched.

"I should kill you," Damon spat, his voice a growl. He hauled Stefan up again, his fist connecting with his jaw in a sickening crunch. Stefan's head snapped to the side, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, but still, he didn't resist.

"Damon, stop!" Caroline cried, grabbing his arm, trying to pull him back. "You're going to kill him!"

Damon rounded on her, his fangs bared, his eyes dark with fury. "Don't touch me!" he snarled. "Lay another hand on me, and I'll rip your head off."

Caroline's breath hitched, her hands trembling at her sides. "Damon," she said softly, pleadingly, but before she could say more, Stefan stirred.

"Don't." His voice was hoarse, but his tone was firm. He pushed himself up on one elbow, his green eyes flickering with a faint light. "I won't let you touch her Damon."

Damon turned back to him, his lip curling. "You're defending her? After what you've done?" He grabbed Stefan by the collar again, pulling him to his feet. "You don't get to play the hero, Stefan."

Stefan's hands came up, not to defend himself, but to steady Damon's grip. "I'm not the hero," he said, his voice quiet but unwavering. "I'm the monster. I know that."

The admission only fueled Damon's rage. He threw Stefan into the wall, the plaster cracking under the impact. "You destroy everything you touch!" Damon shouted, his voice raw. He was shaking now, his fists trembling as he closed the distance between them. "Elena trusted you. She loved you. And you—" His voice broke, but he swallowed the lump in his throat and pressed on. "You took that and crushed her."

Stefan's head dropped, his breath ragged. "I know," he murmured, barely audible.

"Do you?" Damon barked, grabbing him again and slamming him back onto the floor. "Do you even care about what you've done? About how you've ruined her?"

"Damon, stop!" Caroline pleaded again, stepping forward despite her fear. But neither brother acknowledged her.

Damon's eyes darted to the shattered remains of a chair, his hand closing around a jagged wooden leg. He turned back to Stefan, his expression dark as he climbed on top of him, straddling his chest. Stefan's breath hitched as Damon pressed the stake against his chest, the sharp point biting into his skin.

"Do it," Stefan said, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. His arms fell to his sides, his body going limp. "I deserve it."

"Damon, no!" Caroline screamed, tears streaming down her face. She tried to move closer, but Damon's glare stopped her in her tracks.

"Stay out of this, Caroline," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. His eyes burned as he looked down at Stefan, the stake trembling in his hand. Blood welled around the tip, trickling down Stefan's chest.

Stefan's eyes closed, his face serene, as if he were welcoming the end. "Go ahead," he whispered. "It's what I deserve."

Damon's grip tightened on the stake. His hands shook as he pressed it harder, the wood sinking a fraction deeper. Stefan flinched but didn't move to stop him.

For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of their breathing. Damon's jaw clenched, his fangs bared, his eyes locked on his brother's face. He wanted to do it—needed to do it. But as he stared down at Stefan, beaten and broken beneath him, he wavered.

He hated Stefan with every fiber of his being, but he couldn't kill his only brother.

With a growl of frustration, Damon raised the stake before plunging it into his brothers abdomen. He slumped back onto his heels, his chest heaving as he struggled to control the storm raging inside him.

"I hate you," he hissed, his voice trembling with emotion as Stefan groaned in pain. His hands fell to his sides, his shoulders slumping as he stared at Stefan with pure disgust. "You destroy lives. You have everyone fooled, but not me. I see you for what you are."

Stefan opened his eyes, and the pain in his gaze was palpable. He didn't argue, didn't try to defend himself. Instead, he nodded slowly, as if accepting Damon's words as truth.

Damon pushed himself to his feet, his movements unsteady. He turned to leave but paused in the doorway, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

"Stay away from Elena," he said coldly. "If you ever go near her again, I will kill you. Do you hear me?"

Stefan didn't respond. He just stared at the floor, his face etched with sorrow. The silence that followed was suffocating, heavy with pain and exhaustion.

Damon lingered for a moment, his chest heaving as he tried to steady himself. His gaze flicked back to Stefan, a swirl of rage and disappointment still burning in his eyes. But there was something else he needed.

Damon turned his back on Stefan, running a hand through his hair, his movements sharp and agitated. He paced a few steps before his eyes landed on Caroline, who stood frozen by the door, her face pale, her hands clenched tightly at her sides. Eager for Damon to leave so she could help Stefan by removing the stake.

He stared at her for a long moment, his expression shifting from fury to something colder, sharper—a hunter zeroing in on his prey. "You," he said finally, his voice quiet but laced with steel, "I need your help."

Caroline blinked, startled by the sudden intensity in his tone. "Damon, I—"

"I need to find someone," he cut her off, his voice rising slightly. "Freddy something— I assume you know him." His steps were slow but deliberate as he closed the distance between them.

Caroline's lips parted, her breath hitching. "I don't know what you're talking about, I—"

"Freddy," Damon shouted. His piercing blue eyes locked on hers, his temper rising dangerously. "Who. Is. Freddy?"

Caroline's throat tightened, her gaze flicking toward Stefan, who was groaning in pain but unmoving on the floor. "I— I've heard the name before, but I don't know him."

Damon narrowed his eyes, studying her carefully, his frustration mounting. "Don't lie to me, Caroline."

"I'm not lying!" Caroline snapped, a flicker of defiance creeping into her voice. "I've heard the name, okay? Around town. At school, maybe. But Damon, I don't even know what he looks like."

Damon's jaw clenched, his fingers twitching at his sides as he fought to rein in his frustration. He turned his head slightly, glancing back at Stefan, who hadn't moved or spoken. His brother's silence only fueled the fire burning inside him.

"Why do you need to find him," Caroline asked, her voice steady, as she held her nerve despite her fear. "Whoever Freddy is, he's involved. He's the reason Elena is…" He faltered for a moment, his voice cracking before he swallowed hard.

He stepped back, running a hand through his hair as he tried to piece together his next move. The rage simmering beneath his skin was still there, coiled tight, ready to explode.

"You know what, I don't have time for this. If you can't help, you're of no use to me."

Caroline's throat tightened, her heart aching at the raw emotion in Damon's voice. She wanted to argue, to defend herself, but she couldn't ignore the truth in his words—or the pain etched into his expression. "Damon, what happened?" she asked softly, afraid he would leave without an explanation.

"Ask my brother," Damon spat.

Without another word, Damon turned on his heel and strode toward the door, his movements brisk, purposeful. The tension in the room was suffocating, and the sound of his boots against the floor echoed like a warning.

As the door slammed shut behind him, Caroline exhaled shakily, her feet bringing her to Stefan, who still hadn't moved. Her chest tightened as she took in his slumped shoulders, his haunted eyes.