Barely A Memory

Chapter 13

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Stefan was biting his lip so hard that he was half expecting it to start bleeding any second. If he held the ancient steering wheel any harder, it would surely break. The blood was boiling in his veins, his face hot with fury and betrayal.

He had pulled over in Caroline's driveway moments ago; there was no way he was heading to the boardinghouse. It had been a miracle he hadn't killed himself while driving, for he had been unable to concentrate on anything but his newfound headache and Katherine's lingering words.

You don't have to care about anything.

And, god, did he want that more than anything. He didn't want to care about his past, he didn't want to care about Elena and Damon. He simply wanted all of his pain, all of his fury and agony to vanish. And then he'd leave town. He'd leave Mystic Falls and never look back. Surely Elena wouldn't care.

He shook his head hopelessly and practically kicked the car door open. The air was thankfully cool, a drastic contrast against his heated face. He spun around for a long moment, his hands going to the back of his neck as he tried to collect himself. Is this what Elena was talking about? Is this what the crash after the fall felt like?

No, he stopped himself. This was her fault. He shouldn't have fallen; if he hadn't, he never would have hit the bottom in the first place. It's all Elena's fault, he tried to tell himself. It's her beautiful face, and her smile, and the way the room heats up when she walks in. He punched the side of the car before going around to the back of the trunk, pulling out a stolen bottle of Damon's bourbon. He took a long swig, and then one more, followed by another. When it was half empty, he threw the bottle and watched it shatter into pieces. He stared down at the shards and for a long moment thought about how easy it was to shatter something, to shatter something so much that it was beyond repair, to shatter something so terribly that it leaves nothing behind but ugly, sharp ends.

"I love you," he whispered. "God, why do I love you?" The words infuriated him; they shook him to the core and rattled his bones and he wanted nothing more than to explode, to explode and collapse upon himself and burn up into nothingness. So, he tilted his head up at the sky and yelled until his throat was dry and he couldn't breathe and his eyes had no tears left. He breathed in and out, in and out, until he said brokenly, "Why did you let me fall in love with you?"

Just then, the side door opened and Caroline stepped out, barefoot. "Hello?" she asked hesitantly, quickly identifying the hunched silhouette. "Stefan?" He didn't move, didn't speak. "Stefan, are you okay?"

Slowly and hesitantly, she tied her robe a little tighter around herself and stepped out into the cool night, her face filled with concern. "Hello, earth to Salvatore." Her attempt at humor did not even get a halfhearted chuckle out of him, so she continued to step closer, until she felt a sharp jolt of pain at her foot. Confused, she looked down, discovering the shattered bottle. She winced when she pulled out the shard; it healed quickly.

"Sorry," he finally said, his voice hoarse and replete with exhaustion.

She knitted her lips together. "Are you drunk?" He shrugged. Puzzled, Caroline finally turned so that the garage lights were on his face. "Oh my god," she immediately gasped out, feeling her stomach twist. "Why are you crying?"

His face instantly hardened, and he hurriedly tried to wipe them away. "It's not like I'm sad...," he lied. "I'm just angry. I'm so angry."

"Why?"

"Maybe I should have stayed dead," he muttered, staring at something beyond Caroline that only he could see. She shook her head, opening her mouth to protest, but he kept going. "I think I love her. I don't think I ever stopped loving her." There was a long pause as Caroline realized what exactly he was talking about. Finally, he looked the vampire in the eyes, stricken with grief. "But... why did she stop loving me?" His breathing was beginning to get rapid. "Why did she do this to—When did she stop—" He couldn't breathe anymore. He was confused, and furious, and hurt... And damn it, he was going to start crying again. Do not cry, Stefan, he told himself. You're better than that.