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stargate, DanielJackson

TVD Big Bang Fic; A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi

Posted on 2011.10.05 at 22:51
Tags: ,
Chapter Three

“So, what now?” Stefan asks.

“Now everything goes on the same,” Klaus says, relaxed, feet up on the table.

“I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Ok, so everything goes on the same, and I go on the killing rampages alone.”

“Because it’s just that simple.”

“It actually is, too often you youngsters just overcomplicate things.”

“Nothing about this is simple.”

“If you can turn a blind eye to what your brother does, you can turn a blind eye to me.”

“It’s not just that,” Stefan argues, because now isn’t the time to deal with that mountain.

“So what do you usually do when the ‘good guy’ portion of your multiple personalities is in charge?” Klaus quips.

Stefan gives him an annoyed look, and Klaus only adds, “Well?”

Stefan sighs, but answers;

“I usually find something new to do, like a job I haven’t done before.”

“Then do that, we wait and see how things go, and if there’s a problem we’ll deal with it then; or not- whatever works,” Klaus says.

Stefan can see the twitch in his casual posture, and isn’t dumb enough to wait for Klaus to grow angry.

“Fine,” Stefan agrees reluctantly, mind already busy whirling around worst case scenarios.

Stefan sits confidently at the prosecutor’s table; they’re still waiting for the defence’s counsel to arrive.

That’s when Klaus walks in, and towards the defence table.

“What’re you doing here?” Stefan asks indignantly.

“Oh, you know, finding something new to do,” Klaus says, with eyes twinkling.
Stefan sighs.

“Let’s keep it a fair fight; no compelling.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Klaus agrees faux seriously.

Five minutes later, Klaus looks curiously at the witness; who isn’t saying what he wants her to.

“Yeah, I already gave them vervain,” Stefan says--too quietly for the humans to hear--with a smirk.



“Why are you so intent on making everyone think you’re so innocent?”

“Why are you so intent on making everyone think you’re so evil?”

“It’s a slight exaggeration; just good strategic sense, keeps the enemy fearful.”

“Maybe mine is a slight exaggeration, too.”

“It’s not.”

“It’s reflective of who I would like to be. If I pretend to care like the person I would like to be, if I act like that person who cares would act, if everyone thinks I’m that person who cares; doesn’t that for any meaningful purpose make me that person?”

“God, you’re so young.”

Stefan shrugs; “Besides, it’s a useful subterfuge, and it’s fun.”

“I suppose making those idiots think you’re harmless can be amusing,” Klaus concedes.


Klaus sighs angrily. All of his lovers had an element of fear for him; Stefan was stubbornly staying foolishly different, even after years.

“You say you want to make me afraid, but I get the feeling you’re not really trying.”

“Trust me, I’m just getting started. We’ve got all of eternity, wouldn’t want to run out of games.”

“Hmm, no.”

“No? You really are an idiot.”

“Why are you so determined to push me away?”

“I’m just particular about keeping my toys well behaved,” Klaus smirks.


Stefan enters the west hall and finds Klaus in an embrace with a twenty-something blonde woman.

“Klaus!” Stefan says loudly to alert Klaus--unnecessarily, he knows--to his presence.

“Something wrong?” Klaus sings, tearing off the girl’s tattered nylons.

Stefan gives a resigned sigh.

“Why are you so determined to push me away? I’m not giving you up.”

“You sound like a parrot.”

“Maybe if you answer the question I’ll stop.”

“I figure you’re not going to leave, no matter what I do, because you’re a sap--so I’m free to do whatever I wish to.”

“Very well, perhaps I’ll join you,” Stefan says, stepping towards them.

“By all means,” Klaus responds with a gesture to carry on and a smirk.

Stefan huffed and walked out of the room.



It’s a Thursday night in June, and Klaus is looking at Stefan curiously. They’ve just had sex and, instead of curling around Klaus like a cloying idiot, Stefan is just sitting there. Klaus is about to ask when Stefan opens his mouth to speak; his lips flap pointlessly for a moment before his face relaxes to normal, and words slip out.

“I love you,” Stefan throws out softly, his face looks placid as though he has only mentioned what he had for lunch. Klaus can still see his fingers’ tiny motion as though lost.

“Love is weakness,” Klaus replies dismissively. Stefan turns not deflated, but impassioned.

“Weakness is the point; every strong man needs to be brave enough to sometimes be weak; to let someone share their burden.”

“We’re not men, we’re vampires.”

“Then why am I still here?”

“I’ve never been one to deny myself.”

That is apparently enough of an answer for Stefan, who, smiling, burrows under the covers for sleep.


An enemy--the Berryland coven--comprising seven witches and five warlocks, has been captured. Klaus’s underlings escort the coven members--their wrists bound with manacles specially built to prevent power usage--towards the prison cells.

Klaus is gazing out of the window at these happenings on the ground below.

“What’re you going to do with them?” Stefan asks.

“Have them killed.”

“Does it have to be all of them?”

“It’s never wise to leave people to come back for revenge. And leaving no survivors sends a certain message.”

“True, but diverting from your usual course and leaving some alive also sends a message. That maybe it’s worth changing their loyalties, for survival. And that message will get to more people, much faster, with people alive to spread it.”

“I’ve been around many more centuries than you, Stefan; I know all of the stratagems you know and more. There are other methods that are just as effective; but I choose mine because they suit my whims.”
“If other methods are just as effective, maybe it’s time for a change of whims; it would be awful to be labelled predictable,” Stefan says.

“Do you always manipulate so obviously?”


“Fine, I’ll only have six of them killed,” Klaus states dryly.

“Or three?”

“Don’t push it,” Klaus says, a menacing current underlining his tone.

“Six is a good number,” Stefan says agreeably.


“Everyone fears me.”

“Is that the same everyone who thinks Elijah is your right hand?”

“You’re saying their information is out of date and that I’ve become a pussy cat,” Klaus deadpans.

“Watch out Klaus, your heart is showing.”


There are two covens on the verge of an epiphany, about to find out exactly what Klaus is up to; all they have to do is slot together the pieces of knowledge each coven has. Then there would be a small, but not insubstantial, witch army coming after Klaus. It is Stefan’s job to prevent it from happening. Stefan’s half-inclined to believe Klaus has set up the potential for his own downfall just to see how Stefan will react.

Stefan knows Clara--the witch Klaus had ordered him to befriend--belongs to one of the covens. It doesn’t take a genius to realise that Klaus wants him to turn her against the other coven, and to turn her coven against the other coven in turn. He wants Stefan to start a war. Klaus has started many wars between witches. But this is different, it will be by Stefan’s doing alone; the hundreds, possibly thousands, of resulting deaths will be on Stefan’s hands.

The deaths will happen anyway. If Stefan chooses not to start the war, Klaus has other people in place who will. People will die and Klaus will be saved regardless; that’s not really what this is about. This is about whether Stefan is willing to drown in his own darkness for Klaus.

This is the moment when Stefan has to make his choice. He’s either with Klaus or against him.
There’s really only one choice he could ever make because he’s not strong enough to walk away. Stefan sits beside Clara, and spins a yarn, using all the right words. War is declared by the end of the week.


Stefan’s now a trusted member of the inner circle. Klaus offers to tell him everything. It’s not too long before Stefan turns away; he doesn’t want to know anymore. He has already seen too many dark corners to think knowing, and trying to fix things, would be anything but an exercise in futility.


Klaus runs his index fingernail along Stefan’s jaw and down his neck, momentarily drawing a drop of blood as he speaks;

“Tell anyone about this, and I’ll slice you through, again and again, until you’re begging for death,” Klaus lilts softly.

“I’ll take it to my grave,” Stefan replies seriously.

“I had four brothers and two sisters, often my father would travel--to make trades, he sometimes took two or three of my siblings with him, and I would sit waiting for my turn, but it never came. My father never told me he hated me; I might’ve felt better if he’d had, then I would know it wasn’t just in my head, then I could reply. I could argue or fight,” Klaus says, pausing with a faraway frown on his face.

“Fathers can be bastards,” Stefan says softly, winding his arms around Klaus, motioning for him to continue.

“Father always manipulated situations with my siblings, convinced them I had done them some terrible wrong, leaving me isolated from them as well. I felt like they had all betrayed me, taking his side over mine. I realised then that I had to become hardened to it all; and I did so stalwartly. When Elijah came to my side, I thought the others would follow but they didn’t. And then Elijah betrayed me also; that hurt the most. That was when I vowed to have my revenge on them all,” Klaus finishes. He gives Stefan a measuring look, seeking out any hint of judgement.

Stefan leaves his expression open for Klaus, deliberately meeting his eyes, showing what he knows Klaus needs to see there. This is the part Stefan has always been good at. After a minute or two, Klaus seems satisfied, he relaxes, shoulders dropping. A weight seems to lift off him, and he looks different from how Stefan has ever seen him. Stefan understands that nothing more will be said tonight, he stays quiet, gently caressing Klaus’s short locks.

For once Klaus allows himself to fall asleep before Stefan.


The next morning, Stefan wakes to Klaus running his hand through Stefan’s hair. Klaus’s smile appears to be glowing, somehow rejuvenated from last night’s ‘confession.’ Stefan returns the smile, cupping Klaus’s face in his hands as they have a surprisingly soft kiss.

It’s a moment. Stefan knows maybe it should be left at that, but Klaus is rarely this relaxed and open, and Stefan needs to say some things just so they’ve been said aloud. Besides Klaus is never one to want handling with kid gloves.

“I think I know why you want me to be afraid of you so badly.”

“It’s so you’ll do as you’re told, as is befitting of one of my people.”

“You want me to be too scared to run off, so that you can hold onto me.”

“That’s what the security is for, so my toys can’t scurry away.”

“Yeah, but you want it to be my choice.”

“That would imply that I like you,” Klaus laughs. Stefan shoves his arm.

“Just so you know, I don’t plan on leaving.”

“Good to know, the staff have been complaining about all the bodies they have to bury.”

“But that’s not the only reason you want me to be afraid of you.”

“Enlighten me.”

“You want me to hate you so I’ll try to leave.”

“Lovely opposing reasons, I’m twisted that way,” Klaus says with an indulgent lilt.

Stefan chuckles before bringing his patent furrowed brow to the fore.

“I’m not leaving you,” he says with soft determination.

“I know,” Klaus replies, with an almost vulnerable expression that’s gone before it fully appears.


“Where are you going?” Alexander asks, entering Klaus’s chambers.

“Hunting,” Stefan replies, pulling on his left boot.

“I’ll join you.”

“Really? You’re in the mood for some rabbit?” Stefan says sarcastically.

“We haven’t talked in a while.”

Stefan waits until they’re at the edge of the woods before asking;

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“What makes you think there needs to be a reason?”

“You came and found me, to talk,” Stefan says, following a possible deer trail.

“We talk without a reason all the time,” Alexander asserts, following Stefan in turn.

“True, but usually we just stumble upon each other; it’s rare for you to seek me out.”

“Very well. I wish to discuss your relationship with Klaus.”

“Are you going to accuse me of being a spy?” Stefan jokes.

“No, everyone is already aware of that,” Alexander replies, feigning sombreness.

“Oh, that’s good then.”

Alexander, returning to genuine seriousness, says, “I mean to speak of your intentions; I want to make you aware of the dire consequences that will befall you should you hurt Klaus in any way. He may tolerate it, but let me assure you; I will not.”

“Are you seriously warning me, about me hurting Klaus?”

“Yes. He’s my friend, Stefan. I have concern for him.”

“Why now, after six years?”

“Klaus rarely cares enough for his conquests for it to be an issue,” Alexander points out.

“I suppose I should take that as a compliment.”

“Klaus did not begin this way Stefan, his brutality is hard won by being wronged too young by too many.”

“I understand; you’re protective of him. You know I too care about him, and wouldn’t hurt him if I could avoid it, but I can’t promise it will never happen.”

“There’s something special about you Stefan. All I ask is that you try.”


Stefan barely misses a beat when Klaus heaves him against a wall. What surprises him is when the usual violence doesn’t follow, instead Klaus’s hands fall away and he walks out of the room. Curious, Stefan tries--and fails--to catch the expression on his face.

The next day, Klaus stands on a platform; with three of his underlings at his feet. All the other underlings are gathered around to watch.

He holds onto one of the underling’s arms, and begins snapping bones like twigs. Turning bones until a knee is backwards facing, and shoulders sit outside of joints. The pensive pout one of them has is disagreeable, so Klaus tears the skin off her face.


Klaus watches as Stefan shakes the hand of some aristocrat, and then idles over to where Klaus is lounging on the grass.

“You’re too trusting,” Klaus admonishes.

“How so?” Stefan asks.

“You always shake with your ring hand; it wouldn’t take much to pull it off.”

“No one has ever tried, besides, even most supernatural beings have no knowledge of daylight rings,”
Stefan says, sitting down cross-legged a couple of feet from Klaus.

“Why are you all the way over there,” Klaus says coyly, stretching his arm to pull Stefan closer.

“Klaus!” Stefan hisses, tilting his head to point out the people around them.

“Relax, I compelled them already; they don’t even realise we’re here.”

Stefan has a firm look, signalling an oncoming lecture, before giving in and leaning into a kiss.

They kiss some more, but take things no further, content just staying in place. Klaus ponders the thought that if this were anyone else he would’ve grown bored long ago.

“Are you twelve?” he asks laughing, as Stefan begins playing a blade of grass like a harmonica.

Stefan shrugs and then throws some grass at him; Klaus’s retaliatory throw meets air as Stefan sprints off. Klaus grins widely as he chases after him, with the chorus of their laughter sharply spiking the muggy summer air.


In 1927, they travel to Asia, spending a few months in Japan, and a few more in China before continuing to travel across South Asia. They end up settling in the USSR, where they stay for close to two years. They then stay in Persia for six months before Stefan has a pang of homesickness and they return to America.
Stefan and Klaus’s relationship maintains its rather dysfunctional status quo throughout this journey. One day frequenting one of their regular haunts changes everything.


Eyes turn his way as Klaus enters the speakeasy, followed by some of his circle. They bow in respect, and a busy waiter deviates from his duties to walk to Klaus’s side; he is well known here. Someone catches Stefan’s eye, but only for a moment before he averts his sightline. It strikes Klaus’ curiosity and he considers the person; clearly a vampire and also a stranger here. The vampire’s back is turned and he doesn’t notice Klaus or Stefan.

They take their usual seats, kept polished as he’s accustomed to. Klaus tries to place the vampire; he knows most of the older ones, if only by cursory descriptions. The stranger is a dark-haired, lone scotch-drinker, with shoulders devoid of the pads that seem to haunt the majority of this place’s clientele.

He considers Stefan in the seat beside him, casually gripping the neck of the decanter too tightly.

“Go ask Thomas whether they’ve procured any new wines,” Klaus demands of Stefan.

Stefan’s response is a bemused expression which quickly settles into blankness; interesting.

Stefan gestures at one of their personal waiters, as per usual.

“I said to ask Thomas,” Klaus whispers harshly.

“Fine,” Stefan says, rolling his eyes--Klaus knows--to hide his nervousness.

He observes intently as Stefan approaches the bar as far away as possible from the stranger and attempts to covertly attract Thomas’ attention. Of course, stranger notices this and moves to sneak up on Stefan. Klaus doesn’t adjust his lackadaisical posture, but stays ready to intervene if necessary; it would be remiss of him to let his toy get killed so easily. Stefan doesn’t look scared, but then he has a habit of not being so even when it would be sensible.

The vampire’s hand lands on Stefan’s shoulder, and Stefan gives him a resigned smile.

“Tut, tut, what’s Saint Stefan doing in an illicit place like this?”

Klaus can tell Stefan wants to turn and see if he’s watching, but he doesn’t; he just walks outside instead. The vampire downs his drink and follows.

“You can’t be here.”

“Afraid I’m going to destroy you’re tidy little nine-to-five life again? You’d be right.”

Klaus is immediately enraged by this; he’s the only one allowed to hurt Stefan. He reigns himself in and casually strolls outside.

“What have we here?” he asks, predatory smirk in place.


Damon’s intrigued when Stefan steps in front of him.

“Leave him alone,” Stefan says to the guy who followed them out.

Damon is startled when he realises he’s on the opposite end of Stefan’s protective stance this time; usually Damon’s the one Stefan tells to leave people alone. Amused, he steps away from Stefan, holding his hand out.

“I’m Damon.”

“Klaus,” the other vampire replies, grinning ridiculously.

Chapter Four


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