Chapter Text
The night air clung to Stefan’s skin like damp wool, chilling him as he tore through the forest. Branches whipped at his face, stinging, and springing reflex tears to his eyes, though he hardly noticed. Stefan’s breath came in short, ragged bursts, struggling against the suffocating weight pressing down on his chest. His body screamed to stop, to obey, but he could not stop.
It was happening again. He had to get away.
His heart, that cursed, hollow thing, thudded in his chest. It would not be long before Damon came after him. He always did.
A century ago, Stefan had been foolish enough to think he could outrun Damon. He had been so sure his dark, Ripper side could be the key to freedom. It had been fleeting. Damon had found him, dragging him back and shackling him to a nightmare that never ended.
Now, the memory of those hands- those fangs- seared in his mind, and his body recoiled instinctively. Stefan stumbled, his foot catching on a root. He lurched forward, barely catching himself before falling, the sudden shift sending a jolt of panic through him.
It had terrified him since the beginning. The way Damon treated him as a plaything. His precious doll, as Damon was so fond of referring to him as.
Sheriff Forbes had spared him tonight, though she did not know it. Damon had shoved him into the room, a twisted smile on his lips, when the doorbell had rung. He had vanished downstairs, leaving Stefan with a sharp command: Don’t move. Don’t make a sound.
Stefan bolted the second Damon opened the front door.
The trees thinned, giving way to the suburbs of Mystic Falls, and Stefan reluctantly slowed his pace to something more human. He staggered forward when he saw the pale outline of the house he was searching for. Nearly collapsing, Stefan stumbled up the porch steps, his hand slamming against the doorframe. His entire body trembled, his mind fragmented between survival and obedience.
He pounded on the door, feebly at first, then harder as dread curled tighter in his chest. The door flew open with a suddenness that made him flinch. Caroline stood in the doorway, her eyes widening and lips parting in shock as she took in his disheveled appearance.
“Stefan?”
Stefan could barely speak, the words catching in his throat like thorns. “Please,” He whispered, his voice hoarse, “Can I come in?”
Caroline moved without hesitation, pulling him inside, her hands beginning to shake as she turned to lock the door behind them. Stefan paced into the living room, wrapping his arms around himself as his body caved to the shock.
Hovering beside him, Caroline’s eyes filled with a mix of confusion and dawning horror. Her hands fluttered near him, unsure whether to reach out.
“Stefan, what happened? Did Damon-” Her voice faltered, her gaze searching his for answers.
He couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t face her wide, frightened eyes, the questions he had no answers for. His mouth opened, but the words refused to form. All he could see was Damon- his hands, the threat that had lingered for too long.
“Damon,” Stefan started, swallowing hard as his throat tightened, “He-”
The weight of it all crushed him. The memories, the fear, the sickening realization of what Damon had nearly done. His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. A sob, thick and desperate, clawed its way out, shaking his body.
Caroline sunk down onto the couch next to him, her movements hesitant, as if she wasn’t sure how to help. Her hand hovered near his shoulder, but didn’t quite touch. Her voice was soft if a bit wobbly, “It’s okay, Stefan. It’ll be okay. I’m going to call my mom, alright?”
“N-no!” Stefan lifted his face slightly, long strands of hair sticking to his damp cheeks, “She was at the house.”
“What?” Caroline questioned, fright overcoming her gentle features.
“I’m sorry!” Stefan cried, wilting into himself, “Damon was distracted and I- I’m sorry!”
Caroline visibly took a breath to calm herself, though Stefan could hear her heart beating wildly. “Okay, it’s okay,” She breathed out, “I’m not mad at you, Stefan.”
“I’m sorry.” Stefan muttered tearfully into his hands.
“It’ll be okay. I know someone… he might be able to help,” Caroline assured, uncertainty coloring her voice as she reached for her phone. Her fingers trembled against the keyboard and held the phone up to her ear, the dial tone loud. They both flinched as the call went through.
“I need you here, right now.” Caroline said without preamble, voice quaking. Stefan faintly heard her friend say he would be right there before Caroline ended the call.
He curled into the couch, leaning against the armrest and drew his knees to his chest. Caroline remained beside him, her presence the only thing keeping his frayed nerves from snapping entirely. The minutes crawled by, heavy and suffocating, and Stefan buried his face in the crook of his arm. Every sound- the creak of the house, the rumble of car engines on the street- set him on edge, his mind spiraling back to what he had barely escaped.
A car pulled to a stop outside the house, and Stefan tensed, his body stiffening as fear knotted tight in his stomach. His breath caught and his gaze flicked to Caroline as she stood, moving quickly to the door. Stefan’s knuckles turned white, hands clutching the armrest.
The door opened and in the soft glow of the porch light, a figure loomed- tall and composed, his silhouette sharp against the night. He stepped inside, eyes scanning over Caroline before sweeping the room, falling upon Stefan. The flicker of interest in his gaze made Stefan’s skin prickle.
“You remember my friend, Stefan, I told you about?” Caroline whispered, her voice tight, as if speaking too loudly would shatter whatever fragile safety remained. The man’s eyes snapped back to Caroline, an unspoken conversation passing between them. After a moment he nodded and turned back to Stefan, pale eyes assessing.
Stefan shrunk further into himself. There was something unnerving in the man’s demeanor. Something deliberately controlled and calm. It sent a chill creeping up Stefan’s spine and he pressed his body further into the couch cushions. His green eyes tracked the man as he cautiously approached and crouched in front of Stefan. The man’s pale eyes flickered to Caroline in uncertainty before glancing over Stefan, appraising him.
A thickness hung in the air, a mixture of anticipation and dread, as they eyed each other. Stefan with suspicion, his body coiled tightly, poised to flee, while the stranger remained unnervingly composed. His carefully constructed calm a rehearsed facade and Stefan feared what lay beneath it.
The silence stretched, broken only by the faint creak of floorboards under Caroline’s shifting weight at the edge of the couch. Stefan recoiled as the man adjusted his posture. With deliberate slowness, the man extended his hand.
“My name is Klaus. I’m going to help you, Stefan.”