(chapter twelve: blood brothers)

Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago
Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword

୨୧・┈┈・୨୧ 

"It's so hard to see him locked up like this. It's just... it's not fair." Olivia stood in the cellar, watching Stefan, her eyes filled with concern. She said it softly, her voice laced with sadness as she looked down on her boyfriend, who was clearly struggling with his blood lust and it would be clear to any person that something else was bothering him. She just wanted to go in and hold her boyfriend, telling him that everything would be okay eventually.

Damon, leaning against the stone wall next to her, shrugged nonchalantly. "You're the one who locked him up, sweetheart."

Olivia shot him a pointed look. "You helped me, remember?" She spoke. She already felt bad enough for locking up her soulmate, but to have his brother put the blame on her while it was his idea, pissed her off.

Damon gave her a smirk, unphased. "I couldn't have him running around chewing on people while the town was looking for vampires, now, could I?" He raised his eyebrow at her, awaiting her response.

Olivia's gaze stayed fixed on Stefan, her expression unreadable from where Damon was standing. "And It had nothing to do with you actually caring about him? Not even a little bit?"

Damon chuckled darkly. "This is your thing, not mine."

"You think I'm being naive, thinking I can fix him, but maybe it's not about fixing him. Maybe it's just about not giving up on him." Olivia spoke to him.

"Whatever you say, Olivia."  And with that he turned and walked up the stairs, into the library.

Olivia looked once more at Stefan, who was looking down on him hand, where's his ring would normally be on, but Damon thought it was best to take it from him so that the youngest Salvatore couldn't get out of the house in bright daylight without getting burned alive.

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Damon stood by the couch, turning the strange object Pearl had given him over in his hands, his expression was a mix of curiosity and frustration. Olivia walked into the living room, her eyes immediately landing on the device before noticing her sister, Elena, sitting quietly on the couch. Olivia figured Elena was still here because of last night, where she'd sat by the door of Stefan's cell, keeping a silent vigil.

Elena had been the reason Olivia had finally gotten some real sleep last night after countless nights of barely dozing off for a few minutes at a time, only getting an hour or two sleep every night. Her older sister had promised to wake her if anything happened with Stefan. That small assurance had been enough to finally convince Olivia to rest, even though her fear never truly left her as she went to sleep upstairs in Stefan's bedroom.

Olivia had been too afraid to let herself sleep, haunted by the possibility that if she drifted off, Stefan might escape—or worse, hurt himself.

"Did you ever figure out what that is?" Elena asked, tilting her head slightly as she looked at the small object in Damon's hands.

"Nope." Damon replied, his tone clipped. "Whatever it is, it doesn't work."

Olivia crossed her arms and frowned. "Pearl didn't say anything else about it?"

"She thought she was stealing his vampire compass," Damon said with a shrug. "but that was a pocket watch. That Johnathan Gilbert was one crazy scientist." Elena let out a small chuckle as he set the object down on the table and glanced around at her. "Have you spoken to your uncle lately?"

"I've been avoiding him, actually." Elena admitted. "That, and I've been here most nights."

Damon raised an eyebrow, his smirk half amused, half annoyed. "So, you'll be here again tonight?"

Elena gave him a small, playful smile. "Is that a problem?"

"Yes." he said flatly, though his eyes gleamed with mischief. "She's a complete nuisance."

Elena laughed softly at Olivia's reaction as the two girls turned to leave. "Heh. See you later."

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Damon stood outside Stefan's cell, holding a bottle of blood in one hand. He leaned casually against the bars, shaking the bottle slightly.

"Brought you something to eat." He said, his tone dripping with mock cheerfulness. "100% Stefan diet approved. You know what will happen if you don't eat. You'll get all rotting and crusty."

Stefan sat in the corner of the cell, his expression grim. "I'm not hungry." He muttered.

"Of course you are." Damon replied, stepping closer. "We're eternally hungry. Take it. The human blood should be gone by now. You want to explain why you're still in here? Feeling sorry for yourself? Come on, drink up."

When Stefan didn't respond, Damon rolled his eyes and tossed the bottle onto the floor of the cell. "Fine. Starve. What do I care?" He asked sharply, before turning and heading upstairs.

As Damon entered the living room, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and answered with a sigh. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Alaric Saltzman." came the voice on the other end.

Damon immediately cut in. "Before I hang up, how did you get this number?"

"It's a mystery." Alaric replied dryly. In the background, Damon could hear another voice—Alex chimed in with. "I told you not to call him."

"Listen." Alaric continued, ignoring Alex. "I've been doing some digging on Elena's uncle. You interested?"

"What kind of digging?" Damon asked, intrigued despite himself.

"I've got an old friend from Duke who studied criminology when we were there together." Alaric explained. "Let's just say he's become a very proficient digger."

"And?" Damon prompted impatiently.

"I had him run a track on John's cell records," Alaric said. "He was getting calls from a number... the same number Olivia dialed to get Isobel. And then it was disconnected."

Damon scoffed. "Isobel knows John. Whatever. We knew that."

"Right," Alaric admitted. "But after that, John started getting calls from a new number. My friend ran a geotrack on it. Got the address. It's an apartment in Grove Hill."

Damon straightened. "Isobel's in Grove Hill?"

"I don't know." Alaric said cautiously. "I thought we could take a look and see what we find."

"Perfect. Give me the address." Damon said.

"Oh, so you can go without me? No, I don't think so." Alaric shot back.

Damon smirked. "I'm not going with you. You tried to kill me."

"Yeah, well, you did kill me." Alaric countered flatly.

"Hold on. Got your daughter on the other line." Damon said suddenly, his phone beeping with an incoming call as Alaric looked up with confusion at Alex.

"She's probably calling him to know how Stefan's doing." Alex spoke and Alaric nodded, agreeing with him. Never before, except for when her mother 'died', had they seen her this tired. The worry of hoping that Stefan would be getting out of this alright was eating her alive.

Switching lines, he answered with his usual impatience. "What?"

"Take a chill pill, Damon. You're going to scare people off with that tone." Olivia's voice came through. "I'm just grabbing extra clothes, and then I'll be right over. How's he?"

Damon sighed. "Extra broody." He replied. "Hold on." He switched back to Alaric. "You drive. Pick me up in an hour."

"Done." Alaric said before Damon hung up and returned to Olivia's call.

"He won't eat anything." Damon told her.

Olivia sighed on the other end. "He has to eat. What's his favorite... kind of, you know, um..."

"His favorite kind of what?" Damon prompted, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Type of animal blood that he prefers?" she clarified hesitantly.

"Ew. Gross," Damon replied, grimacing.

"I get it, Damon. He's brooding. But he needs to eat. Your joking doesn't help the case. What's his favorite?" Olivia asked, exasperated.

"Helps me." Damon quipped. "Now, hurry up. I can't babysit all night. I have things to do."

"I would say, 'drop dead,' but, no wait actually still drop dead." Olivia retorted.

"Ha ha." Damon shot back. "For the record, Stefan likes bunny blood. Little small white bunnies with cute, floppy ears. That's his favorite."

Olivia swallowed and Damon heard it on the other side on his phone, making him let out a laugh.

"I hate you." Olivia spoke.

"And you're late." Damon said he heard Olivia hanging up, shaking his head with an amused smirk.

☀️☀️☀️

Olivia stepped once more cautiously down the basement stairs that day, the dim light casting long shadows along the walls. Stefan was sitting in front of his bed in the cell, his head resting against on his hands as if it was the only thing keeping him upright.

"How are you feeling?" Olivia asked softly. She looked at the bottle of blood Damon had left behind on the floor of Stefan's cell, right in front of his feet. "Damon says you need to drink this. You need it, Stefan. You know that. You can't survive without it. It's like water to a fish, but that was probably just a stupid comparison," Olivia added, shaking her head at herself. "The point is—you really need this."

Stefan didn't move, his eyes fixed on a point somewhere far beyond the room. "I don't want to survive." He muttered, his voice hollow and raw. Without emotions.

Olivia's brow furrowed, a flicker of panic rising in her chest. "What? Don't say that, Stefan." She shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Olivia." Stefan said, finally turning his eyes toward her. They were filled with a depth of pain she couldn't fathom. "No more. After what I've done, it has to end. I just want it over."

Olivia did the thing Damon told her that was the only thing that wouldn't be smart to do. She opened the door of his cell and walked in.

Olivia's heart raced as she stepped into Stefan's cell, the door creaking as it swung open. She knew Damon would be furious if he found out, but in that moment, all she could focus on was Stefan's broken demeanor. He needed someone to be there, even if it wasn't the smartest decision.

"Stefan," she said softly, taking another step toward him. "I know you're in pain, but you can't just shut yourself off like this. You're not alone. We can help you."

Stefan's eyes followed her movements, and for a brief second, it almost seemed like he didn't recognize her. His gaze shifted back to the floor, the bottle of blood still untouched at his feet.

"I don't deserve anyone." He muttered, barely audible.

Olivia stopped in front of him, kneeling down so that she was on his level. "Yes, you do, Stefan. More than anyone I know. I don't care about the mistakes you think you've made. You've been through so much, and I'm not going to let you push everyone away."

His eyes flickered with something—a trace of emotion that vanished as quickly as it appeared. "You don't get it." he whispered. "I've hurt too many people. People I love. People I care about. I can't keep doing this."

"Yes, you can." Olivia insisted, her voice steady. She reached for the bottle of blood, picking it up and holding it out to him. "You've fought the darkness before. You can do it again."

Stefan looked at the bottle in her hand that she had just picked up, the blood inside it almost mocking in its simplicity. 

He wanted to fight, to push her away, to tell her to leave him alone, but something about Olivia's presence—her unwavering determination—made it harder to resist to keep fighting against her. 

"Please, Stefan," Olivia urged, her eyes softening. "Just take one sip. Please, Stefan, I'm begging you."

But Stefan shook his head. "No."

☀️☀️☀️

Damon leaned with his hands on the couch. "He's just being dramatic." He said, brushing off Stefan's behavior. "He's not gonna starve himself."

Olivia's gaze drifted to the door, worry still etched on her face. "Why would he say that if he didn't mean it or at least thinking about it?"

"He feels bad about hurting that girl. Typical Stefan martyr stuff. It'll pass," Damon explained, his tone flat, as though he'd dealt with this kind of thing too many times before.

"Will it?" Olivia asked, her voice tinged with doubt. "Because he seemed to be in a lot of pain."

"Yeah. Well, that will pass too, once he eats." Damon's words were quick, dismissive.

Olivia bit her lip, her frustration growing. "I didn't mean physical pain."

Damon paused for a moment, his expression softening just enough to show that he understood what she meant. "I know what you meant." Then, he turned toward the door, clearly preparing to leave. "Look, are you gonna be okay here if I have to run out? I have to go on an errand with the teacher."

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "The teacher? My dad? Are you two friends now?"

Damon let out a sharp laugh. "I don't have any friends, Olivia."

"Right. I would've been surprised about my father's choice of friends if you were." Olivia muttered under her breath.

Damon's tone shifted slightly, more serious now. "You should, um, stay up here. You shouldn't be down there by yourself."

Olivia, still holding her ground, nodded firmly. "I'll be fine. Elena is coming over anyway."

He looked at her for a long beat, the concern evident but masked by his usual sarcasm. "You know you're very trusting of him, given the circumstances."

Olivia's gaze met his eyes. "So are you. Otherwise, you wouldn't be leaving."

Damon looked as though he was about to argue but then sighed, his posture relaxing a little. "I won't be long." He gave her one last look before heading out the door, his footsteps echoing in the silence that followed.

Olivia sat there for a moment, still unsure about everything, but a quiet resolve settled in her chest. She was determined to be there for Stefan, no matter what, and if Damon couldn't understand that, then she'd just have to handle things herself.

☀️☀️☀️

Olivia walked back down to the cellar, her steps slow but determined. Stefan looked up at her with cold, distant eyes, his voice low and threatening. "You know, Damon hasn't fed me vervain in a while. I could be at those bars in a flash, and you'd be dead."

Olivia didn't flinch. "Yeah, you could. But you won't."

"Please just go away. I don't want you here," Stefan said, his tone sharp, almost pleading her to just leave him alone.

But Olivia didn't listen. She stepped further into the cellar. "What are you doing? Get out of here," Stefan growled, his voice darkening.

"No." Olivia replied simply, her gaze unwavering.

"You're taking a stupid risk. I could hurt you." He warned her as he stood up and walked over to her, but she didn't take a step back.

"Then I'm stupid." Olivia said with a soft, defiant laugh. "You need to drink this."

"Olivia, get out of here, or you'll regret it," Stefan said.

"Drink." Olivia repeated, stepping closer.

Stefan's face twisted in fury, and with a shout, he knocked the bottle of blood from her hand. It hit the floor with a loud thud, rolling away as his face transformed, the monstrous part of him rising to the surface. "I said get out!"

Olivia stood her ground, her heart pounding in her chest, but her voice was calm. "No."

The veins under his eyes disappeared as he backed away from her and sat down on the bed.

Olivia sat down next to him on the bed, her gaze fixed on Stefan, his eyes distant and heavy with sorrow.

"Why are you doing this, Stefan?" Olivia asked gently, her voice laced with concern.

Stefan's eyes flickered to her. "I'm making the decision I should have made years ago."

Olivia frowned, trying to understand. "What are you talking about?"

Stefan's jaw clenched as he looked away, the weight of his words pressing down on him. "You have to feed in order to complete the transition."

Olivia nodded, already knowing that. "I know that."

"It was a choice I shouldn't have made." Stefan muttered, his voice raw with regret. He stared at the floor, as though it might give him the answers he so desperately sought.

Olivia sat on the edge of the bed, staring at Stefan as he looked away, his voice barely more than a whisper after he had just finished telling her the story about killing his father. "How can you even look at me right now?" Stefan's words cut through the silence, full of anguish.

Olivia sighed, leaning forward slightly. "You need to be able to talk about these things, Stefan. I need to hear them. I want to hear them. It will make me understand you better. Come upstairs. We can talk about it more, and we'll keep talking as long as you need. As long as you want." Her tone was soft, yet firm. She could see the depth of his struggle, and she wanted to be there for him.

Stefan glanced up at her, his eyes filled with uncertainty. "You're so sure I'm ready?"

Without saying anything, Olivia reached into her pocket and pulled out the ring Stefan had worn ever since she met him. She grabbed a hold on his hand and gently placed it down, her fingers lingering for just a moment. "And when you feel the same way... I'll be upstairs." Olivia said quietly, her voice steady despite the heaviness in her chest.

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Olivia was sitting on the couch, watching an episode of friends, waiting for Stefan to come upstairs. The girl turned around with a small smile on her face thinking it was Stefan, but her smile vanished when she saw it was only Damon.

"Ugh. God. You're still here?" He asked.

"Were you expecting anything else?" She replied, not looking up.

Damon sighed dramatically. "No. Ahh." He plopped down on the couch, his movements casual but confident. He picked up Olivia's legs, placing them over his lap, as if he had all the time in the world. "Where's Elena?"

"Bathroom." Olivia raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything at first. "So, how was the 'errand'?" She finally asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

"Futile." Damon replied with a lazy shrug. "Although, I think I witnessed the teacher having an existential crisis." He tilted his head, his smirk never fading. 

Olivia rolled her eyes at him. "Thank God, you didn't have one. Or else I don't I would be sitting here right now."

"Has Stefan eaten yet?" Damon asked.

"Not yet, but I'm hoping he's getting there, but he keeps saying he doesn't want to.

Damon raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by her response. "Why doesn't he want to? He's not exactly known for his self-control, is he?" His voice was a mixture of amusement and genuine curiosity.

Olivia shifted slightly, her arms crossed over her chest. "He feels guilty. About everything. You know how he is... always carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders."

Damon let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, well, that's classic Stefan for you. Always the martyr. But at least he's not trying to drink himself to death anymore."

Olivia frowned, looking away for a moment. "He's not the same, Damon. I don't know what's going on in his head right now, but I can see how much he's hurting. I don't think he knows how to stop punishing himself."

Damon's expression softened slightly, though he tried to hide it behind his usual smirk. "Guilt is a funny thing," he said, almost to himself. "You either deal with it, or you drown in it."

"Yeah, well, Stefan looks like he has always been better at drowning." Olivia's voice was quiet, but firm. Olivia leaned back into the couch, her gaze distant. "I just don't want him to give up. I don't know what I'll do if he does." She paused, her voice barely above a whisper. Olivia shook her head, not understanding why she was saying this to Damon out of all people. "I'll check on Stefan. You should probably try talking to him when he's ready. Because you saying you don't care about your brother is a load of crap and we all know it and somewhere deep down you know that."

However when she arrived downstairs in the cellar, her boyfriend was gone and without his daylight ring. As she burst through the door and into the living room, she spotted Damon, leaning casually against the wall with a smirk still plastered on his face. But Olivia didn't waste time with pleasantries.

"Damon." She called, her voice tight with urgency. "Stefan's gone. He left without his ring."

"I think I know where he is." Damon spoke.

☀️☀️☀️

Stefan stood at the edge of the quarry, the darkness around him reflecting the turmoil inside. The weight of everything he had done, the choices that haunted him, the lives he had destroyed—it all felt unbearable. Olivia's footsteps echoed softly as she approached, and despite the heaviness in the air, there was a calmness in her presence.

"Stefan." Olivia called softly. "We thought we might find you here. Damon explained everything to me on the way over here." Olivia explained, letting him know that she knew all about what happened on the same very space they were standing more then hundred years ago.

Stefan didn't turn around. His voice was heavy with regret as he spoke, barely above a whisper. "I should have died that night, just like I had chosen. I should have let Damon die, too."

Olivia's heart ached at his words, but she steadied herself. "But you didn't." she said gently, stepping closer. "And if you die now, it's not gonna change what happened."

Stefan's pain was so raw, so palpable. His fists clenched at his sides. "Every single person that's been hurt. Every single life that's been lost, it's because of me." Stefan shook his head, the weight of his guilt suffocating him. "I made a choice, Olivia. Because of that choice, a lot of people were hurt."

Olivia stepped forward. "You also made a choice to stop, to reject the person that the blood made you. You made a choice to be good, Stefan."

Stefan's face twisted in anguish, his eyes pleading. "Please. Don't make this all okay."

Olivia reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm. "It's not about making it all okay, Stefan. It's about remembering who you are. The person you choose to be, even when it's hard. You made that choice before, and you can make it again."

He was silent, his chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. The weight of his guilt, the constant battle between the man he wanted to be and the monster he feared he would become—it was all too much.

Olivia's voice was barely a whisper as she continued, "You don't have to keep carrying all of this alone. It hurts. I know it does. I would find it weird if you didn't, but you don't have to give in to the darkness. Not again."

Stefan looked at her, his heart aching with a mixture of love and fear. "It hurts me, Liv. It hurts me knowing what I've done, and that pain... That pain is with me all the time. And every day, I think that if I just... If I just give myself over to the blood, I can make that pain stop. It would be that easy, and every day, I fight that. And I am so terrified that one day, I'm not gonna want to fight that anymore, Liv. And the next time I hurt somebody... It could be you. I do not wanna hurt you. You mean so much to me."

Olivia's heart shattered as she watched him, knowing the depth of his struggle. She reached into her pocket and pulled out his ring, holding it out to him. "There will be no next time." she said, her voice steady, full of conviction.

Stefan's eyes flickered with doubt. "You don't know that."

"You're right. I don't. Nobody does." Olivia admitted. "But what I do know is that you can take this, throw it in the quarry, never see it again, let the sun rise and burn up because of the sun. Or you could take this ring and put it on and keep fighting. I know you don't believe that you're worth it, but I am telling you now, and I will keep telling you so until you believe it. You are worth it." She placed the ring gently in his hand, her fingers lingering for a second before she took a step back. 

"Liv" Stefan spoke, his voice desperate when he saw her stepping. He reached out, his hand trembling as he slid the ring onto his finger. In an instant, he stood close to her, his lips crashing against hers, a mix of passion, pain, and relief for both of them.

The same words repeated over in Olivia's mind. Thank God.

As they kissed, the weight of his decision settled over them, but for the first time in a long while, Stefan felt the tiniest spark of hope. He had chosen to fight. For her.

☀️☀️☀️

Words: 4120

Published: December 9, 2024

Be sure to comment. I love reading them and it keeps me really motivated! And thanks for reading again!

song at the start: from eden by hozier

mwah Katherine