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stargate, DanielJackson

TVD Big Bang Fic; A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi

Posted on 2011.10.05 at 22:57
Tags: ,

Chapter Four

“I’m Stefan’s brother.”

“I’m aware. Would you like to come to lunch tomorrow; we have a delicious lawyer and some very old scotch,” Klaus asks, gestures brimming with charm.

“That sounds delightful,” Damon replies, mimicking Klaus’s accent.


After the meal, Stefan excuses himself and Klaus and Damon continue to banter, sending for more humans to drink. Klaus is intent on hearing any story Damon has on Stefan; and Damon’s happy to oblige. He tells the tale of eight-year-old Stefan breaking an arm while trying to hide from one of their aunts in a tree, and then going back up the next day sans functioning arm to rescue the orphaned baby robin he’d found there. Tells tales of mischief, and scheming, and dreaming, and cooking, and somehow it doesn’t even occur to him to mention their times as vampires.

Klaus and he end up spending the day together.

Damon kisses Klaus; he tastes of fresh blood and fish pie.

The next second, they’re tearing at each other’s clothes, flipping each other over with vampire power, grinding against each other forcefully.


The next day, Stefan seeks out Klaus and finds him in the library.

“What are you doing?” Stefan asks, his arms folded and his face attempting blankness.

“Playing. You didn’t tell me your brother was so handsome.”

“I want you to stop messing around with him.”

“Can’t always get what you want.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I like making you squirm,” Klaus replies in a wicked cadence.



“Stay here and do what Stefan tells you to,” Klaus orders, heading out the door.

Katherine scowls, she’s three times older than Stefan, she made him, and she’s not going to let him control her. The idea of forging an alliance behind Klaus’s back has already flown out the window; she already suspects there’s more to their relationship than meets the eye.

“You aren’t compelled at all, are you?” Katherine asks, even though it’s more statement than question.

“Nope,” Stefan replies.

“How long have you known Klaus?” Katherine asks perceptively.

“A while.”

Katherine gives Stefan a curious look. He’s playing coy, not evasive; if he didn’t want her to know he would’ve denied it altogether.

“Did you find Elena for Klaus?” she asks.

At that Stefan shuts down, busying himself with some books. She picks up a bottle of whisky and takes a swig, choosing not to poke for now. Katherine knows it’s best to stay on Stefan’s good side.


Stefan is sitting in the drawing room, reading a book.

Klaus and Damon enter with their arms leisurely slung around each other’s shoulders. Stefan’s own shoulders twitch.

“Look at him, so sexy when he’s jealous don’t you think?”

“He’s my brother.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“You’re a little sick,” Damon says smiling.

“More than a little. Stefan, you should join us,” says Klaus.

“No. I’m not playing this game,” Stefan says.

“Refusing to play is still playing,” Klaus points out.

“I guess I’ll just sit here in silence then.”

“Is he always this grouchy when he doesn’t get his way?” Klaus asks.

“One time he brooded so hard his hair wilted,” Damon answers.


Stefan finds Damon later, ambling around in a state of mild drunkenness.

“You need to leave,” he tells Damon, his hands falling onto his brother’s shoulders, urging strongly.

“That doesn’t really fit with my plan to steal your lover.”

Stefan’s face seems to crumple into a morose ball of paper; if he were human, he would be red-faced with frustration;

“Klaus is dangerous, Damon, what part of that don’t you understand?” Stefan exclaims.

“I know, and I’m not leaving you alone to have all the excitement; remember--eternity of misery.”

“Are you going to say that every time we see each other?”

“Only until you get it into your head.”

Stefan doesn’t respond, just turns away abruptly.


Two weeks after Damon intruded on his life yet again, Stefan is sitting hunched over at the bar. Klaus slides onto the adjacent bar stool.

“Still sulking?” Klaus asks jovially.

Stefan doesn’t raise his stare from the tumbler of whisky in front of him.

“Don’t worry; you’re still my favourite.”

Stefan does a quarter turn on the stool to face Klaus, marking him with a solid stare;

“If, maybe just for a little while, you stopped trying to win at every relationship, stopped trying to lord yourself over everyone, thinking us unwitting toys in your game, you might actually garner something with meaning.”

“I have all the meaning I care for.”

“Maybe it’s time for me to end this then,” Stefan says, gesturing between the two of them.

“You’re mine Stefan, and you’ll be mine until I decide I’m done with you,” Klaus says, giving Stefan a pointed look, and then picks up a nut, crushing in his hand as he slides off his stool and walks away.


“You need to stop this; it isn’t a good idea,” Alexander says.

“Since when are you on Stefan’s side?” Klaus asks.

“I’m on no one’s side, but if you carry on with this you’re going to lose him.”

“He won’t run; he knows I would catch him.”

“I’ve known you for nine hundred years Klaus, who do you think you’re fooling?”

“You’ve begun to worry too much. Stefan’s a bad influence.”

“I just wonder about the mood you’ll be in when everything blows up. That’s never enjoyable for any of us.”


“Plans?” Klaus asks casually, as he finds Damon packing a bag.

“Heading to Phoenix for the weekend,” Damon replies.

“It would be polite to ask first,” Klaus says cordially, while keeping a steel-like grip on his arm.

“Permission is much more Stefan’s style,” Damon says, struggling to take back his limb.

“Ask nicely, or you’re not going,” Klaus says.

Damon gives Klaus a searching look, realisation sinking in;

“This controlling shtick you’ve got going may work with baby brother, but I’m not playing.”

“Maybe Stefan’s just smart enough to know what’s best for him. You should follow his example.”

“If he was smart, he would’ve left already; just like I plan to.”

“Damon, I wouldn’t try to leave if I were you; the guards have appalling aim, I wouldn’t want you to end up with a stake in your heart.”


Stefan goes to find Klaus as soon as he hears about him threatening Damon, protective instincts at their peak.

“If you hurt Damon, I swear...” Stefan trails off, hoping his voice holds more threat than he feels.

Klaus only chuckles.

“Don’t, don’t do this.”

“You swear what Stefan,” Klaus taunts, circling Stefan close enough for idle sleeves to brush against each other, “I would think you would know better, after all this time.”

Stefan swallows, straightens defiantly, with only a sombre facial expression, and then speaks.

“You would be surprised what I can muster up.”


“So Stefan, know any good ways out of here? Secret tunnels? Security blind spots?”

“You’re trying to get out? It will take some work; there’re even guards up in the trees.”

“So go on a suicide mission or stay as a slave. Fun choice: suicide mission it is.”

It takes little thought for Stefan to come to a decision. He loves Klaus, but he won’t let Klaus hurt Damon, he can’t;

“With some planning we could do it. The place is more designed to keep people out, than keep them in.”

“There’s no we. You’re not coming with me.”

“I’ve been here for years; I know the layout, traps and blind spots. You would have almost no chance without me.”


“You want me to help you escape?” Cora exclaims incredulously.

“Yes, no one wants to be rid of me more than you: you think I get missions that should be yours, you think I have a standing with Klaus that should be yours; in short, I’m a threat to you.”

“Maybe I’ll just let Klaus know about your little plan, and let him decapitate you.”

“I’ll tell him I found out you were going to betray him, and you’re covering yourself; who do you think he’ll believe?”

“It would be worth it, not to have to see your annoying face anymore,” Cora finally agrees, already gleefully envisioning the torture Klaus will put Stefan through once he gets caught.


“Now we just need to figure out where Cora is going to double-cross us, and we’re all set.”

“Working with a back-stabber sounds like a plan I’d come up with.”

“It can’t be helped, we need someone who can reorganise some of the guards. If I move too many myself it will look suspicious and they’ll catch on. Plus if there are two of us giving the orders, it gives more weight to the idea that we’re just following Klaus’s orders.”

“And we’re just going to take out the rest?”

“No, we’re creating enough blind spots to sneak around them. It’s the only way to get far enough away before anyone realises we’re gone. Most of Klaus’s underlings are stronger and faster. All we have is our head-start.”


Stefan and Damon slip out after nightfall. The darkness isn’t much of an advantage in a playground of vampires, but it’s better than nothing. Stefan’s repositioning was subtle but effective; they wind their way across Klaus’s lands with relative ease. They’re three quarters of the way through when they’re spotted.

“Hey there!” a guard calls.

Stefan freezes for a millisecond, and then relaxes into a casual stance, striding up to the guard.

“Hello, Petey. We were just a tad peckish; I was going to show my brother the Blue Fox place. Did you see that lovely redhead there last week?”

“Stefan, you know the rules,” he replies with indulgent sternness.

“Come on, bend them a little; I’ll put in a good word with Klaus. We’ll be back before sunrise, who’s going to know?”

“I’ll know, and so will you,” he says, a frown suddenly blossoming on his face, and he collapses.

That’s when Stefan sees the needle sticking out of him.

“What did you do?” Stefan asks Damon in a loud whisper.

“Solved the problem.”

“And created a whole slew of new ones. He’s not going to stay out for long.”

“Then we should be running already, not standing here and arguing.”

“No, we have to stay.”

“You’re kidding,” Damon says disbelieving.

“The alarm will be sounded, and we’ll be caught before we even exit the grounds.”

“And your plan is to stay here and wait for the guard I just neutralised to wake up. Have you been putting something in your blood other than livestock?”

“Trust me,” Stefan pleads in a hard tone.

Damon looks in the direction of escape, knowing Stefan won’t be moving from the spot.

Stefan cradles Pete’s head as he awakens.

“Sorry about that, my brother tends to be too trigger-happy,” Stefan says apologetically.

“Well, this will have to be reported,” the guard says angrily.

“Of course it does. Klaus will be greatly displeased at your failure.”

“What failure?” the guard spat sceptically.

“Well, you were having a conversation with people you were supposed to stop from leaving, and neither anticipated, nor were alert enough to prevent, an attack,” Stefan stated, maintaining a blankly apologetic tone.

The guard continued to peer at Stefan dubiously, but as Stefan’s bland stare didn’t budge for minutes, began to look noticeably uncomfortable.

“You know, we’re buddies right.”

“You know the rules, Pete,” Stefan says unyielding.

“Come on man, do a guy a favour?” he asks, nervousness barely hidden under a wrinkled forehead.

“I’ll hand in the report in the morning; you have until then to get yourself out of trouble.”

“Thank you, Stefan,” Pete says, running off.

“He’s not too bright,” Damon comments.

“No, he’s not, Klaus likes the circle smart, and the drones dumbly obedient, though give Pete a little credit; I am the man whispering in the kings ear.”

“So how come you’re sneaking out in the middle of the night?”

“Melted wings,” Stefan deadpans, shrugging.


“Where’s Stefan?” Klaus asks.

“I haven’t seen him,” is the reply he gets from Alexander and Chef.

An unsettled feeling stirs in his gut, but he ignores it; Stefan’s probably off in a corner somewhere, brooding.

He continues with his activities for the day, handing out tasks, going over schemes, drinking from attractive young women; Stefan’s absence only a mild buzzing at the back of his mind. It’s nearly midnight before the buzzing turns to an insistent noisy drill, and he orders the staff to search the grounds for him.
Klaus can hear their whispers, the reluctance to be the messenger. He knows the words are coming long before they reach his ears: Stefan is gone.

The drill hollers angrily in his head, and he sits cracking knuckles, staring at the crooked edge of one of the landscapes hanging on the wall. Alexander is of course the only one with the courage to come to him. No words are said; they both know there is no need.

“Dammit!” he roars, picking up the table and throwing it against the askew painting.

Then he lifts the chaise lounge, and bashes it against the ground until it’s in pieces.

“Find him! Send everyone!” Klaus bellows at Alexander, who is standing entirely too still.

Alexander gives a quick nod, walking out with a purposeful stride.

Klaus continues to destroy the room.


Stefan and Damon wordlessly stick together, traversing the states as fast as they can. It has been four days, and Stefan can feel the hunger clawing at his insides, bones rub against each other chalk-like--bloodless and dry--they’re both exhausted. No one seems to have any idea where they are, so they decide to finally stop for a few hours. Stefan lies down, shutting his eyes momentarily; secure in the knowledge that his brother has his back. He listens to his brother’s movements and, despite their apparent hatred for each other, finds the sounds comforting. He hears as Damon drinks deeply from a young brunette, compelling away her memory as soon as he’s done.

“You should stick to people blood; they’ll be looking for a trail of little puppies.”

Stefan ignores Damon; he will just be more careful.

There’s a distant shuffle. Stefan opens his eyes, sitting up. Both brothers look sharply at each other, sensing an approach on the edges of their hearing range.

When the door splinters in half; they’re ready. Two vampires fly at them. Damon drives a stake towards one of them, blocking the vampire’s attack, and Stefan goes to the other one. Damon’s stake is kicked away, but he jumps over the room to break a wooden panel off the bed. The vampire follows Damon, and they continue to fight. Stefan manages to plant a stake in the other vampire’s torso, but it’s barely an inch deep before he’s jumped from behind. Stefan struggles fruitlessly as both his wrists are captured. Just as he thinks defeat is imminent, the vampire collapses--stake in heart--thanks to Damon.

The remaining vampire uses that moment to thrust a stake at Damon, but Stefan blocks him, and the brothers fight him for a couple of minutes before he chooses to make a strategic retreat; much too fast for the Salvatores to follow.

“We should go,” Stefan says.

“I’m not arguing,” Damon agrees.


Klaus taps his fingers with impatience. As the fourth day since Stefan’s escape slips into the fifth, Klaus can’t help but feel a spectre of anxiety over his shoulder, envisioning Stefan disappearing into oblivion; just as his maker did centuries earlier.

That’s when one of his underlings, Noel, enters, bringing news of an encounter with the Salvatore brothers.

“They managed to get away,” Noel reports nervously.

“That is unacceptable,” Klaus states in a low, cold voice.

“At least we have an idea where they are now; it will make tracking them easier.”

“Very well, I’ll let it lie this time, but do not fail me again,”

“Yes milord. The thing is, working together they make a strong team, it would go smoother if we could just kill them.”

“I want them alive,” Klaus says with a harsh note of finality, dismissing Noel.

Klaus accepts that deep inside he loves Stefan; he’s old enough to not delude himself, that doesn’t mean he can’t tuck that knowledge away until it’s pertinent that he remembers it.


“Tired of this,” Damon says, as they slow down for a minute.

“We don’t have a choice, unless you have a better idea?”

“Yeah, we go back and fight.”

“Please, tell me you’re kidding.”

“I’m kidding.”

“You know Klaus will kill you.”

“Maybe, maybe not, better to confront and battle and die, than live forever looking over my shoulder and running and being chased, I’m not that guy.”

“Aren’t you being overdramatic? It has only been six days, not exactly a long time.”

“Alright, how long before Klaus stops pursuing us?”

“A year, maybe two.”

“You’re lying. How long?”

“Not lying, and anyway once we get far enough away and once our trail is lost things will all settle down even sooner.”

“How long Stefan?”

“He won’t stop.”



The phone rings, and Klaus walks to the parlour to answer, he’s more surprised than he should be when the operator tells him it’s a ‘Stefan Salvatore.’

“I want to make a deal,” Stefan’s voice comes out flat.

“Ok, come back and I’ll only torture you both for a little while before killing you.”

“And they say the key to your villainy is your seductive offers.”

“Damon’s going to come here and try to fight me isn’t he.”

Stefan sighs, pausing before speaking.

“You can have me if you let him go; and compel him--make him forget you ever met--so he doesn’t try to return.”

“No. I would rather have you both. And when Damon comes, you’ll follow.”

“Except then, instead of having me willing to do whatever you want, you’ll have me kicking and screaming and trying to escape. And I escaped once, I will again.”

“I’ll be sure to lock you up a lot tighter.”

“You want this deal. You just need to get out of the way of your own ego and make it.”

“Well, that makes me want to say ‘yes’.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Fine, it’s a deal.”


Klaus doesn’t waste any time as Stefan and Damon approach; he grabs a hold of Damon, compelling him almost automatically.

“You won’t remember me or any of the time you spent in this place or on the run. You will leave and not return; nothing about this will seem unusual.”

Klaus whisks Stefan away, as Damon blinks and disappears off in the distance.

He pulls Stefan into a kiss, biting roughly. It feels like it has been much longer than one week. He notices that Stefan’s response isn’t passionate in kind; lips only moving pliant over his.

“Seriously, you’re going to continue with the moping?”

“I’m just holding up my end of the deal.”

“Why don’t we forget the whole deal, and go back to how things were before?”

“After what you did, we don’t get to go back to normal Klaus.”

“I let your brother go, didn’t I?”

“Yes, and you get me in return.”

“I’m granting you mercy, Stefan; you should be more grateful.”


As soon as they’re back at the mansion, Klaus takes Stefan into his bed chambers, and lays him out on the bed like a china doll. This seems no different than his treatment of many people who came before Stefan, and yet he knows this is different.

Klaus knows Stefan well enough to know that they won’t be going back to the way it was anytime soon. That doesn’t mean he can’t mould Stefan’s subservience into a perfect facsimile. He glides a hand slowly over Stefan’s torso and kisses pepper-light, but goes no further than a few kisses and touches, says that it’s because Stefan isn’t attractive when he’s acting so boring. But Klaus doesn’t go beyond this, because he knows there will be no going back, and he doesn’t want to lose that stupid shred of hope, doesn’t want Stefan to hate him for all the innumerable centuries awaiting them.

When Klaus is done, he lies flat on his back. The expectation of Stefan’s irritatingly cloying curling up against him is automatic, but an instant later he realises it’s not going to come. He looks over at Stefan, who now has his back to him, and inexplicably longs for life’s annoyances.


Klaus goes about his daily business. He sees Stefan in his periphery; like a jittery butterfly. The everyday minutia is off, from the carefully measured carefree morning kiss, to the handing over of an underling’s schedule (fingers caught and flinched apart). Stefan is all wrong-edged, moving his face to fit the lie. Klaus considers compelling him, but he knows that will be a far larger lie.


Most nights, Klaus no longer touches Stefan. On those he does, he places Stefan on the table; the bed taunts him unforgivingly.

Klaus watches Stefan as he smiles under his hands and ministrations and can’t quite quell the ache that this isn’t real. The longing that this not be a lie is entirely new; it bemuses him. Coercion usually increases his enjoyment, not reduces it; the thrill of making them feel as he wants them to, making them do what he wants them to--it all dies in Stefan’s smile. The appeal of muddying waters has dulled and he hesitates--almost flinches away--from tarnishing this sparkling pool. He can’t bear to lose its cool clearness even if it means he can never really have it, never hold it in his blood-stained hands.


Stefan kneels beside him. It doesn’t give Klaus the usual satisfaction. Stefan’s smile is too tooth-filled to be convincing.

“You’re a vampire Stefan; you should know how to forge a decent smile.”

“You can make me do whatever you want, and I’ll do it; you just need to figure out if you can be happy with that instead of the actual relationship we used to have.”

“Don’t test me, Stefan; you won’t like the results.”

“You’re the one who wanted to play.”


After considering and rejecting the idea of compelling Stefan a handful of times, Klaus finally decides to go ahead with it. After all, he’s only compelling Stefan to forget certain events; it doesn’t make anything any less real. Except his own justifications fail to convince him, but he has reached the point where he’s too weary to care. It has been months since they met Damon at the speakeasy. All he wants is Stefan back.

“I’m sorry,” he tells Stefan, brushing a stray hair behind Stefan’s ear.

Klaus can almost taste the significance of the moment and hates it.

“You’re going to forget that we ever met Damon in that speakeasy,” Klaus says.

There’s surprise written all over Stefan’s face, before it dulls into the blank throes of compulsion and returns to normal again. But the surprise had lasted a moment too long.

“Do you have vervain?” Klaus asks plainly.

“No,” Stefan lies obviously.

“Strip,” Klaus orders.

Stefan sighs, but does as he’s told. Klaus finds nothing.

“You’ve been drinking it, impressive.”


Stefan takes in the cell he has been left in; Klaus wants the vervain out of his system. The window is small; every surface in the room is dark-edged, subdued by the narrow stream of light.

He thinks about how to convince Klaus he has been compelled, how to act, which expressions to make. Stefan can lie well, but not in these circumstances; his face always gives him away. He will have to do better.

Stefan contorts his face, picturing a mirror in front of him.


Klaus compels Stefan, but, as well as Stefan acts, it’s obvious that night when he cringes at even Klaus’s feather-touches that he hasn’t been compelled.

“I need you to find out why I can’t compel Stefan,” Klaus tells Ida, his trusted witch.

“Get me something of Stefan’s,” Ida tells him.

He acquiesces, giving her Stefan’s comb. Klaus watches as she presses an herbal mixture against the comb and mutters a spell almost silently over a bowl of water.

“Well?” says Klaus, as Ida stands back head tilted in understanding.

“It’s a spell; Stefan must have gotten someone to perform it on him, which is the only way these spells work. Yes, definitely a spell to block compulsion.”

“Hmm, I should’ve expected this of Stefan. And I suppose breaking the spell will be complex and intricate.”

“Actually it’s quite simple, but you’re not going to like it. Stefan connected his own life-force to the spell; the only way to break it would be to kill him.”

“That negates the point somewhat. Is there another way?”

“No, you’re going to have to figure out a different way to get what you want out of Stefan.”


Klaus wraps his arms around Stefan from behind. Stefan takes a second longer than is pleasing to relax into his embrace.

“You’re doing it wrong again,” Klaus chides.

“I’m not doing anything wrong; you’re the one who’s struggling to fool himself into believing this is anything but a charade.”

“See that’s wholly your problem, because if you don’t start doing what I want; I won’t see much point in keeping our deal, and then brother dearest will be in a smidgen of trouble.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll try harder,” Stefan says, placatingly.

That’s when Klaus sees it--the fear in Stefan’s eyes. It’s mostly concealed but unquestionably there. There’s an odd stinging in his nose and throat that he doesn’t recognise until tears prickle at the corners of his eyes, he blinks them away. He forces his hurt away, mutating it to anger and plays all the rougher.

“You better,” he growls, teeth hovering over Stefan’s jugular.


Klaus spends the next several months going from witch’s door to witch’s door, dragging Stefan behind him; trying to find out whose handiwork the compulsion blocking spell was and another way to undo it. Stefan never says a word of who it could be, and the witches are none the wiser. But they are all certain on one point: finding the witch won’t help him; the only way to end the spell is with Stefan’s death.

Klaus constantly hangs the notion of what he could do to Damon over Stefan’s head like a haunting storm. But he makes a point of facing another direction when he makes threats so he doesn’t see Stefan’s expression. He uses his threats as a tool to adjust Stefan’s behaviour, correcting any deviation. Stefan learns quickly, but every day Klaus seems to find something new that needs fixing. And now, many months down the road, Klaus has to do little more than say Stefan’s name in a stern tone for the warning message to be conveyed and acted on.

Of course he researches methods of resurrection, but the many possibilities available for humans don’t apply to vampires. It’s not like with his siblings, where he can simply pull the dagger out; there’s no guarantee Stefan will come back; and that’s an unacceptable risk. Stefan’s act is improving every day, and Klaus chooses to employ a rare bout of patience instead.



Katherine thinks carefully before posing a question the next time she and Stefan are alone, deciding to stay off the whole doppelganger issue. She knows Stefan and Klaus were apart for at least the year and a half Stefan was in Mystic Falls because she would’ve known if Klaus were around.

“So you and Klaus just carried on where you left off?” Katherine says.

“We have blips every now and then; sometimes we just need some time apart,” Stefan says, surprisingly open.

“How functional,”

“For certain definitions of functional,” Stefan laughs.

“Klaus won’t be happy with you speaking so freely about it,” Katherine chastises mockingly.

“It’s nice to talk; besides who are you going to tell?” Stefan asks with a vindictive intonation.

“Don’t be mean Stefan. All this torture has me very ill-tempered, and no one’s here to protect you now,” says Katherine, smirking.



Klaus and Stefan are resting on the side of the road; they’re travelling to meet an acquaintance because it would take far too long for said acquaintance to journey to them without the convenience of a daylight ring. Klaus lies relaxed, passing wine bottles filled with blood back and forth, parrying easy banter with Stefan, grinning, as thick as thieves. Then Stefan laughs perfectly light-heartedly, with twinkle-absent eyes, and everything shatters.

Klaus does a double-take, he fools himself sometimes; it has been three years, and Stefan has gotten much better at the pretence, and sometimes he goes days believing that Stefan has forgiven him, that everything is like it once was. Then something happens and Klaus is reminded that he’s kidding himself, and it hurts all the more, remembering the feel of the past.


Klaus sits staring absently at a Ming vase.

“You can leave,” he tells Stefan, his voice a dull monotone.

“Alright...I’ll see you tomorrow,” Stefan says, considering Klaus’s behaviour to be curious.

“No. Leave, and don’t come back.”

“You’re letting me go?” says a shocked Stefan, voice quivering with uncertainty.

“Go!” Klaus exclaims, gaze not leaving the vase.

Stefan doesn’t speed away, only walks slowly. Klaus listens to the younger vampire’s footsteps down the stairs and through the front parlour.

Hears Stefan halt to say goodbyes, can imagine that much missed smile back on his face.

Chapter Five



tenshinrtaiga at 2012-01-04 05:51 (UTC) (Link)
God, this chapter is sad. Really, really sad. I loved it, but I'm crying...

Good work.
swirlsofblue at 2012-01-04 08:59 (UTC) (Link)
Thank you, I'm glad you loved it, and glad to hear it invoked emotion :)
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