Stefan Salvatore gripped the steering wheel tightly, the old muscle car roaring down the winding road. His phone buzzed incessantly in the passenger seat, Elena's name flashing on the screen, but he didn't dare glance at it. His focus was singular, unyielding–he had to get to the Mikaelson Mansion.
The thought of Damon, his brash, stubborn older brother, lying helpless and unconscious, gnawed at Stefan's insides. Damon was always the stronger one, the one who faced the world with a cocky grin and reckless abandon. The idea of him being vulnerable, possibly dying, felt surreal, like a nightmare Stefan couldn't wake up from.
The mansion loomed ahead, dark and foreboding under the cloudy night sky. Stefan barely registered the grandeur as he parked haphazardly and bolted toward the entrance. The heavy oak doors creaked open before he could knock, as if the house itself anticipated his arrival. Klaus stood there, his usual smug demeanour replaced with a grim seriousness.
"He's upstairs," Klaus said simply, stepping aside to let Stefan in.
Stefan didn't waste a moment taking the stairs two at a time. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of fear and adrenaline coursing through him. The hallways were eerily silent, save for the soft murmurs of voices behind closed doors.
When Stefan finally reached the room, he pushed the door open with a trembling hand. His breath caught in his throat at the sight before him. Damon lay motionless on the bed, his skin pale, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. Elijah stood by the window, arms crossed, a silent sentinel.
Stefan crossed the room in a few strides, dropping to his knees beside Damon's bed. "Damon," he whispered, his voice cracking. He reached out, gripping his brother's cold hand, willing him to wake up.
Memories flooded Stefan's mind, unbidden and poignant. He could see them both as young boys, running through the sunlit fields of their childhood home. Damon, always the daring one, coaxing Stefan into climbing the tallest trees, sneaking sweets from the kitchen, and laughing when they nearly got caught.
He remembered the nights Damon would sit with him when he had nightmares, whispering stories to calm him down, promising to protect him from the shadows that seemed so much bigger back then. Damon had always been his protector, even when they grew older, even when life tore them apart and twisted their bond.
"Don't you dare leave me," Stefan murmured, squeezing Damon's hand tightly. His eyes burned, but he refused to let the tears fall. "Not like this."
Behind him, Elijah stepped forward, his expression somber, "We are doing everything we can" Elijah assured, his voice low and steady. "Kol is seeking help from an old content. We will find a way to reverse this."
Stefan nodded numbly, not trusting himself to speak. The room blurred for a moment, his mind drifting back to another memory–Damon teaching him how to ride a horse, his patience endless despite Stefan's constant fumbling. Damon had always been the one to push him, to make sure stronger, even when Stefan didn't want to be.
"He's always been the strong one," Stefan said softly, more to himself than anyone else. "He can't... he won't let this bear him."
Elijah moved closer, his usually stoic expression softened. "Damon is resilient. But we need to prepare for the outcomes."
Stefan's jaw clenched, his grip on Damon's hand tightening. "No. He's going to make it. He has too."
The phone in his pocket buzzed again, but Stefan ignored it. He couldn't deal with Elena right now, couldn't think about her without wanting to rip her head off. This moment was for Damon–for them and she's can't ruin that.
A soft knock sounded at the door, and Bonnie entered, her face drawn with worry. "Stefan," she said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We're doing everything we can. But... you should rest."
"I'm not leaving him, Stefan replied, his voice resolute. "I'm staying right here."
Bonnie exchanged a glance with Elijah before nodding "Okay. Just... don't lose hope."
As she left, the room fell back into silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on Stefan's chest. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against Damon's hand. "You're going to fight," he whispered. "Because that's what you do. You fight, and you win. And I'm going to let you go through this alone."
The memories of their childhood lingered in his mind, a bittersweet reminder of the bond they shared. Stefan closed his eyes, willing himself to be strong, for Damon. For the brother who had always been his hero, even when he didn't deserve it.
Time seemed to stand still as Stefan sat there, holding on to hope, holding on to Damon. He won't let him slip away. Not now, now ever.
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Their Raven
FanfictionDamon has spent a century as a vampire, believing that his immortal life began when he was turned but when long-buried memories resurface, he discovers a shocking truth before he became a vampire he was a witch, a powerful one. As a child, Damon wie...
