Dawn filtered through the unfamiliar curtains of the guest room, painting shadows across Stefan's face as he opened his eyes.
The boarding house creaked around him, familiar sounds that meant home.
Stefan remained perfectly still, extending his senses throughout the house. Damon's presence was absent - out hunting or drinking or causing trouble somewhere in town. But Elena...
Her heartbeat resonated from upstairs, from his bedroom. Steady. Peaceful. Alive.
The sound anchored him - he had memorised the exact rhythm and sound of it - a metronome keeping time for his existence.
He rose silently, crossing to the window in a fluid motion. The eastern sky had begun its transformation, darkness yielding to the first hints of color.
Stefan pressed his palm against the cool glass, watching his reflection superimposed over the awakening world.
Two faces. Two lives.
Now one purpose.
"Elena," he whispered, so softly that even another vampire wouldn't have caught it.
She was his. She will always be his. And despite everything - despite Klaus and Damon and the months apart - she was still here, under his roof, her heart beating a rhythm that called to him. He wanted to kiss her, to make love to her, but... he held himself back.
Patience, he reminded himself. She needed time. Space to process his return, to understand the new reality they faced with Klaus establishing himself in Mystic Falls. He wouldn't overwhelm her, wouldn't push too hard too fast.
He loved her, he didn't want to hurt her. That was the last thing he wanted.
After confirming Elena was still asleep, Stefan returned to the guest room, closing the door with a soft click.
His mind buzzed with theories, possibilities that had kept him occupied throughout the days of his previous life- when this world was only fiction to him, an interesting past time to think about...
Compulsion.
Such a limited term for what might be a far more expansive power.
In his memories - his first life ones - he had watched The Vampire Diaries with a fascination that made him analyse it.
He had seen compulsion used countless ways: to forget, to remember falsely, to act against one's will while fully aware of the violation. It wasn't simple mind control. It was something deeper.
Since human brains don't work that way. Humans can't choose to forget something. They can't choose to have false memories. It simply can not be mind control. It is impossible for it to be.
Stefan picked up a glass from the nightstand and filled it with water from the bathroom sink. He placed it on the desk by the window, where morning light caught the liquid, making it shimmer.
"If compulsion can force a human mind to reject reality," he murmured, "why not reality itself?"
He focused on the glass, channeling his will as he would when compelling a human. "Freeze," he commanded.
Nothing happened.
Stefan frowned. Wrong approach. Compulsion wasn't about commanding; it was about reshaping reality. About making what wasn't real become real.
He tried again, this time envisioning the image of frozen water, seeing in his mind's eye the particles slowing, aligning, crystallizing. He didn't speak, simply projected his will into the glass, imagining the transformation as if it had already occurred.
The water trembled slightly, a ripple crossing its surface.
Stefan intensified his focus, pouring more of himself into the effort. His vision narrowed until nothing existed but the glass and its contents.
He felt something shift within him, a drawing sensation behind his eyes, as if his very essence was being channeled outward.
The water's surface stilled, then clouded. A thin layer of ice began to form along the top, spreading downward like crystal fingers reaching into the depths.
The change accelerated, the entire contents of the glass turning solid in a matter of seconds.
When it was done, Stefan released his hold, staggering slightly. Dark veins pulsed beneath his eyes, and a dull ache throbbed in his temples. He steadied himself against the desk, breathing heavily despite not needing air.
"It worked," he whispered, reaching out to touch the glass. The surface was cold, legitimately frozen. Not an illusion, not a trick of perception. Actually transformed.
He lifted the glass, turning it upside down. The ice remained solid, unmoving.
A smile curved his lips.
'Vampires really are limiting themselves, by what they themselves are thinking is possible and isn't- their self-created walls to power... Walls that I no longer have.'
What this all meant was great.
If he could affect physical matter this way, what else might be possible? Could he eventually create the safe haven he envisioned for Elena? A place beyond evil's reach, beyond time itself?
The effort had drained him considerably, though. His limbs felt heavy, his thoughts sluggish. He needed to replenish his strength.
He needed blood.
-----------------------
The basement stairs creaked beneath Stefan's weight as he descended into the cool darkness below.
The familiar path to the blood storage felt different now, charged with new purpose rather than shame.
His footsteps echoed softly against concrete walls that had witnessed his struggle for decades.
The reinforced door to the blood storage opened with a metallic groan. Inside, neatly stacked blood bags lined the industrial refrigerator - Damon's supply, maintained for convenience rather than emergency.
Stefan selected two bags, examining the labels with clinical detachment.
Type O negative. Universal donor.
Once, he would have hesitated, fighting the urge that defined his darkest self. Now he simply unsealed the first bag and raised it to his lips, drinking with forced measured control.
The blood was cold, lacking the vitality of feeding from the vein, but it served its purpose. Energy flowed back into his limbs, the fatigue from his earlier experiment receding.
He finished the first bag and started on the second, savoring rather than gulping. This was sustenance, not surrender. Power, not weakness.
"Well, well. Look who's embraced the family diet."
Stefan didn't turn immediately. He finished drinking, making Damon wait, before setting the empty bag aside and facing his brother.
Damon leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his expression a practiced mask of casual disdain. But Stefan could see the tension in his shoulders, the wariness in his eyes.
"Good morning to you too, Damon," Stefan replied evenly.
"Should I hide the locals, or are you saving the real feeding for your road trips with Klaus?" Damon pushed off from the doorframe, moving into the room with deliberate steps.
Stefan maintained his position, neither advancing nor retreating. "I have it under control."
"Right. Like you had it under control in Tennessee? Or was it Ohio where they found those bodies?" Damon circled him slowly. "How many people did you kill this summer, Stefan? Fifty? A hundred?"
"Is there a point to this interrogation?" Stefan asked, his voice calm despite the provocation.
Damon stopped, his smile not reaching his eyes. "Just trying to figure out which version of my brother came home. The martyr or the monster."
"Maybe I'm neither."
"Or maybe you're both." Damon moved to the refrigerator, selecting a blood bag for himself. "Either way, you brought Klaus back to Mystic Falls, which puts you firmly in the 'terrible decision-maker' category."
Stefan watched as Damon tore into the bag with his teeth, drinking messily, deliberately provocative. "Klaus was always coming back. This way, we have leverage."
"Leverage." Damon scoffed, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. "You keep using that word. I don't think it means what you think it means."
"It means Elena stays alive. It means we have time to find a more permanent solution."
Damon tossed the empty blood bag aside. "You know what would have kept Elena safer? You staying away. We had things under control here before you showed up with the Original psychopath in tow."
Stefan felt the first flicker of genuine anger. "Under control? Is that what you call it?"
"Elena was safe. She was adjusting. She was-"
"Getting closer to you?" Stefan finished, watching Damon's expression carefully.
A flash of something - guilt, defiance, both - crossed Damon's face before his mask of indifference returned. "Someone had to be there for her while you were off playing Klaus's wingman. Someone had to protect her."
"Protect her." Stefan repeated the words, feeling something shift inside him. "Like you protected her before?"
Damon's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Stefan said, taking a deliberate step forward, "that your track record as Elena's 'protector' is questionable at best."
"At least I was here," Damon shot back. "At least I didn't bring the biggest threat to her doorstep."
"No. You just brought every other threat imaginable." Stefan's control began to slip, his voice hardening. "You know what, Damon? I've had it with you."
He slapped the back of his hand into his palm for emphasis, the sound sharp in the confined space. "You killed my best friend Lexi on my birthday."
Slap.
"You compelled - no, let's call it what it is - you raped Caroline."
Slap.
"You broke into Elena's bedroom at night, taunting me, implying you could do whatever you wanted to her- and with what you did to Caroline, we both know what you were implying."
Damon's smirk faltered. "That's not-"
Slap.
"You force-fed Elena your blood against her will."
Slap.
"You tried to compel Elena to kiss you - only failing because of the vervain necklace I gave her."
Damon took a step back, his expression darkening. "Ancient history, brother."
Slap.
"When she refused you again, you snapped Jeremy's neck. You killed her brother, Damon. The only reason he's alive is because of a ring you didn't even know he was wearing."
"I was angry," Damon defended weakly.
Stefan's voice dropped to a dangerous quiet. "And then, while I was sacrificing everything to save your life - making deals with Klaus, becoming the thing I hate most - you kissed her. You used her compassion against her, asking for a kiss as your dying wish, not respecting that she is the woman I love."
Slap - harder this time, the sound echoing.
"I gave up everything for you, Damon. My freedom. My humanity. My life with Elena. And how do you repay me? By trying to take the one thing that matters most to me."
The silence that followed was absolute, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator. Damon's face had lost its mask of indifference, raw emotion bleeding through - anger, guilt, and something like shame warring for dominance.
"You don't understand," Damon said finally, his voice rough. "While you were gone-"
"I understand perfectly," Stefan cut him off. "You saw an opportunity and you took it. Just like you always do."
Damon's expression hardened. "You self-righteous-"
He never finished the sentence. In a blur of movement, Damon lunged forward, aiming for Stefan's throat. Stefan sidestepped, using his brother's momentum against him, sending him crashing into the refrigerator. Blood bags burst on impact, crimson spray painting the walls.
Damon recovered quickly, spinning back with vampire speed. His fist connected with Stefan's jaw, snapping his head back. Stefan absorbed the blow, then countered with a strike to Damon's solar plexus that sent him staggering.
They circled each other in the confined space, blood-splattered and wary.
"You think you can beat me? Me as I am now? No longer held back by my, what did you call it, 'bunny diet?' I'm older than you in vampire years, Damon.
Plus I'm a Ripper- the most dangerous, and strongest form of Non-Original pure vampire. You don't really think you stand a chance do you?" Stefan asked, rolling his shoulders.
Damon smirked, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Let's find out."
He attacked again, a flurry of blows that Stefan parried and blocked. They moved like two blurs, creating wind currents that stirred the scattered blood bags on the floor.
Stefan fought with precision, each movement calculated, while Damon fought with passionate fury, unpredictable and wild.
Damon seized a metal pipe from a broken shelf, swinging it in a deadly arc toward Stefan's head. Stefan ducked, feeling the air move above him, then surged upward, grabbing Damon's wrist and twisting until the pipe clattered to the floor.
Using the concrete wall as leverage, Stefan pushed off, driving his shoulder into Damon's midsection. They crashed into a wooden chair, splintering it. Damon seized a jagged leg, driving it toward Stefan's heart, but Stefan caught his wrist, forcing the makeshift stake away.
With a burst of strength, Stefan reversed their positions, pinning Damon against the wall. He wrenched the stake from Damon's grip and, in one fluid motion, drove it into his brother's stomach.
Damon gasped, blood bubbling from his lips. Stefan held him there, one hand gripping the stake, the other at Damon's throat. His face had transformed, veins darkening beneath his eyes, fangs extended in fury.
"STOP!"
The voice cut through the violence like a physical force. Both brothers froze.
Elena stood on the stairs, her knuckles white where she gripped the railing. Her face was pale with shock, but her eyes burned with resolution.
Stefan felt a moment of dread. Had she heard everything? Would she defend Damon now, after all that had been said?
After finally, every bad thing, was put into one basket- no longer hidden behind charm?
"Elena," Damon gasped, blood staining his shirt where the stake protruded.
"Get out," she said, her voice trembling but firm.
Stefan blinked, uncertain he had heard correctly.
"Elena, please-" Damon started.
"I said get out, Damon." Her voice was stronger now. "I heard everything. Just... go."
Disbelief washed over Damon's features, followed by immense raw hurt. Damon looked between them, the reality of his situation sinking in.
With a grimace, he pulled the stake from his abdomen, dropping it to the floor with a clatter. Blood soaked his shirt, but the wound was already beginning to heal.
Without another word, he pushed past Stefan, limping slightly as he made his way up the stairs. Elena stepped aside to let him pass, her expression unreadable.
The front door slammed moments later, leaving Stefan and Elena alone in the blood-splattered basement.
Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. Elena descended the remaining stairs slowly, picking her way through the carnage. Stefan remained where he was, uncertain, waiting for her judgment.
"Are you okay?" she asked finally, her voice soft in the stillness.
Stefan nodded, unable to find words. The rage that had fueled him moments before had evaporated, leaving him hollow.
"Come upstairs," Elena said, extending her hand. "Please."
He took it, her warmth seeping into his cold skin. Together they climbed the stairs, leaving the destruction behind them.
Neither spoke as they moved through the house to the living room, where morning sunlight streamed through the windows, a stark contrast to the darkness below.
Stefan sank onto the couch, suddenly exhausted. The fight, coming so soon after his experiment with the ice, had drained him more than he cared to admit.
Elena stood before him for a long moment, studying his face as if seeing him for the first time. Then, with quiet determination, she moved to sit beside him. Her hand found his shoulder, a tentative touch that asked permission.
When he didn't pull away, she shifted closer, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head against his chest.
Stefan remained rigid for a heartbeat, then slowly, carefully returned the embrace, his arms encircling her slender form.
They sat like that, neither speaking, as the sun climbed higher in the sky. The boarding house settled around them, familiar creaks and sighs marking the passage of time.
Elena's heartbeat steadied against his chest, its rhythm a promise he intended to protect at any cost.
Stefan closed his eyes, allowing himself this moment of peace. His fingers moved through Elena's hair, a silent vow passing through his touch. He would never lose her again.
Never.
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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all liked the chapter.
Do tell me how you found it.
I personally found it fun, especially the Damon and Stefan fight part.
Also, yeah, I do theorise that compulsion is a form of reality warping. This is gonna become more relevant in the future.
Well, I hope to see you all later,
Bye!)