Many thanks to CreepingMuse and JWAB for an overhaul and renovation way beyond the call of beta duty. Special thanks to JWAB for the constant reminders not to play it safe. You really helped this story find its legs.

1 Day Zero

The blood rushed into Stefan's body, electrifying every cell.

"Stop." A quiet voice, even more compelling than the blood, drew him away. The lure of the blood completely evaporated. Stefan looked down at the unconscious body in his arms.

"Elena?" He peered at her curiously. He remembered perfectly that just a few minutes earlier he was so consumed with love that he would have willingly given up his life for her, but now he couldn't fathom what that felt like.

"Well, mate." The voice again. "Why don't you bring that one along? I'll clean up the snack wrappers." Klaus led Stefan into the gym, tossed Dana and Chad's bodies over his shoulder, and headed out to the back parking lot. He dumped the bodies in the trunk of his car.

"Put that one in the front," he directed. Stefan complied, slipping Elena's inert form into the front seat. "We're done for now," Klaus grinned. "Go have some fun, Ripper."

Stefan walked away without a backward glance. He slipped into the woods behind the school, then picked up his pace, sprinting the rest of the way to the boarding house. He slowed down when he reached the driveway, approaching the house cautiously. Watching, listening. He walked up to the front door and tested the knob. Unlocked as usual. He stepped inside and stopped. The house was still, silent. There wasn't even the crackle of a dying ember in the fireplace.

Stefan took the stairs to his room two at a time, finally pausing in the doorway. The room was uncannily familiar, with only a few minor changes. A chair was missing, and the rough hewn pedestal table sported some new scars. A few piles of books and knickknacks were neater than he remembered.

Stefan pulled open a drawer and found his car keys. Out of the corner of his eye he caught his journal, face down on the floor. He flipped over the mangled pages. It fell open to his last entry.

June 30, 2010

My brother is dying. I would do anything, give up anything, sacrifice myself, if I could just have a glimmer of hope of saving his life.

Stefan snapped the book shut and tossed it aside, his face an unemotional mask. He walked over to his haphazardly stacked journals. He rifled through the shelves and fished out a new volume, its pages pristine. He walked back to his desk, snapped up a pen and wrote quickly, not bothering to sit down.

August 29, 2010

He ripped out the page and began again.

Day Zero

Today is the beginning of eternity, an eternity of absolute clarity, unburdened by emotion or conscience. I will never feel again. Of this one thing I am certain. I can never go back. The guilt would destroy me. I bit Elena tonight.

My task is simple now: to stop fighting the blood, let it do its work, erase any remnants of my former self.

Stefan closed the book and blurred down the stairs to the garage. He jumped into his car and gunned it hard, then peeled out of the house and onto the road, reaching highway 29 in under five minutes. He took the south on-ramp and gunned the engine again, taking advantage of his hair trigger reflexes to thread a fine line through the traffic. He pushed the car to its limits. He rolled down the windows and turned up the radio, the wailing of heavy metal music reverberating through the car. His fingers drummed incessantly to the beat, his eyes focused on the road ahead. Within a few minutes a police car flashed its lights behind him. Stefan skidded to a sudden stop, leaving dark tire streaks on the road. He rolled down his window and waited, listening to the man's call into dispatch.

"Can't believe this guy." The officer said. "He was doing 120, weaving through traffic like a maniac. I'm going to bring him in. Over and out."

Stefan shot out an arm when the policeman approached, wrenching him close. He ripped out the man's throat, a scream dying on his lips, barely a tortured gurgle. Stefan held him in place, draining him in a few seconds. He held the body upright, climbed out of the car, and walked it into the trees by the road. Countless cars sped by, oblivious to what had just transpired.

Stefan covered the hundred miles to Lynchburg in just over half an hour, compelling two more policemen along the way. He filled up at a gas station and bought a few extra gallon containers of gas for the trunk.

Lynchburg's streets were mostly deserted, like every other small town on a Sunday night. Stefan was unconcerned. He knew exactly where to find what he was looking for. He headed directly to the river, where bars were spilling out their patrons. He drove to the end of the wharf and pulled over. A derelict firetrap teetered in the middle of nowhere, tucked against an abandoned warehouse. The windows were blacked out and boarded over. No signs. No lights. Only the faint sound of breathing gave any indication of activity inside. Its patrons needed no advertising. They had only one purpose, to get drunk, hard and fast. Stefan climbed out of the car and walked around to the back of the building. A muscle bound biker brutalized a hooker behind a rusted dumpster. Stefan ripped them apart and shoved the dumpster against the back door of the building. "You will not scream," he ordered, dragging the two into the bar. "No one leaves," he said to the biker, leaving him posted at the door. He scoped out the room. A couple dozen patrons, hunched over their drinks, oblivious to his arrival.

"Why can't we leave? Please let me go," the woman pleaded, her eyes blown wide with fear. Stefan tore at her neck, gulping the hot rushing liquid, driving his teeth deeper and deeper into her, chasing every last drop of blood. A cascade of screams instantly erupted from the patrons. They stampeded over each other in a futile attempt to reach doors. He let them scream. Their cries were the nattering of insects, as he ferociously devoured them all, immersing himself in their blood.

"All you can eat buffet." Klaus' amused voice echoed from the doorway. Stefan dropped the final body with a guttural growl, his body jolting with the rush of the blood. He turned to face Klaus, his eyes engorged, his fangs extended.

"How'd you find me?"

"I have my methods," Klaus smiled, his eyes taking in the bodies strewn around Stefan. "Hunting out of town. I see you can still keep your wits about you."

"Not about to go on an indiscriminate killing spree in plain sight ," Stefan said matter-of-factly. "What do you want?"

"I have a little job for you," Klaus smiled.

"Thought you'd be playing with your little doppelganger right about now."

"I have what I need from her," Klaus said. "She's well enough for the moment, under your brother's care."

"You let Damon take her?" Stefan asked surprised. "Is that wise? He can be somewhat erratic."

"Ah! That's where you come in. I need someone less emotional to do it." Klaus locked eyes with Stefan. "Keep Elena alive and well."

Stefan nodded in acquiescence. "Going somewhere?"

"Planned a little sightseeing tour of the country, a few days in the South, a few in the Pacific Northwest. We'll see where whimsy takes me after that." He tossed an arm over Stefan's shoulders."I don't need to tell you that this is just between us, mate." His eyes caught Stefan's again. "Or maybe I do."

"Are we done?" Stefan asked with a hint of impatience.

"I have half a mind to bring you along," Klaus said wistfully, releasing Stefan's shoulders and heading back down the alley. "We would have so much fun."

Stefan stood still, impassive, until Klaus disappeared, then he blurred to his car, retrieving the gas cans. He soaked the remnants of the bodies with gasoline then doused the rest of the building. He walked out, tossing a match behind him. The old wood lit up like kindling, setting the building ablaze. By the time the sound of fire engines pierced the air, he was back on the highway, doing a leisurely 85.

Stefan pulled into the driveway at the Salvatore house and parked beside Damon's car. The house was alive with warm light from the fireplace. The crackle of the flames mingled with clinking glass. Stefan followed the sounds to the library. He stood in the hall a moment, listening.

"He's really gone this time. I watched it happen. After everything that we went through to get... to help him. Now he's just...gone." Elena paused a moment , then spoke again, her voice tearful. "Where were you, Damon? "

"I shouldn't have left. I promise you... I will never leave you again," Damon replied, his voice as distressed as Elena's.

Stefan stepped into the room to see a pale and frightened Elena huddled in a chair, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Damon hovered beside her, playing a role that only hours earlier Stefan would have fulfilled.

"Well, isn't this cozy?" Stefan taunted.

Damon shot up instantly, placing himself between Stefan and Elena. "What are you doing here, brother?"

Stefan casually poured himself a drink. "Last I checked, I live here. Klaus is gone, but he's asked me to keep watch on you until he returns. From now on, you're under my protection." He shot Elena a predatory glare. "Mmm, by all means. Carry on. "

Stefan took his drink and casually walked up the stairs. He turned at the sound of footsteps in the hallway and caught a glimpse of Damon, supporting a weak and pale Elena, still bundled in the blanket, his arm firmly around her waist. The front door opened and closed, followed by the purr of Damon's car disappearing quickly down the road.

Stefan finished his drink and backtracked to the library. He poured another and downed it in one swallow, then grabbed the bottle and headed back up the stairs, his fingers tapping an incessant rhythm on the glass. He swiped the journal off his desk and sat down, one leg draped casually over an arm of his leather armchair. He flipped the book open, took a swig from the bottle, and began to write.

I have no ties, no one to care about, nothing to fear. It's interesting how much power it gives you, how it generates instant fear in others. It was amusing, watching my brother's protective instincts kick in the moment he realized I was home, seeing the fear in his eyes, knowing he has no effect on me anymore. He had Elena hustled out of the house in less than a minute. He's probably standing guard over her bed while she sleeps. Lovesick fool. He's right to be afraid though, but he should be more afraid for himself. I'm not compelled to watch over him.

Damon appeared silently in Stefan's doorway, leaning on the frame, his arms crossed. Stefan put down his pen and slowly turned to Damon, staring down his brother. "Feed our little blood donor some juice and cookies to plump her back up?"

"Don't think that just because you've checked out that you get a free pass," Damon whispered through clenched teeth. Stefan rolled his eyes dismissively. Damon held his ground.

"I promised Elena I'd drag you back to her, little brother, and I'm making that same promise to you."