Until I Disappear

"I'm going to make dinner," he lied easily, forcing a smile for his father.

"Fill me up while you're in there, Stefan," the man slurred, and Stefan took his glass before he quickly left the room. 

The truth was, Stefan had no intention of cooking dinner. He had no idea how to make anything like Damon or his dad could, and the fact that his father had bought his blatant lie so easily just confirmed Stefan's suspicions about how drunk he was already. Stefan wasn't cooking, no, but he did have a plan. And now was as good a time as any to execute it. 

He grabbed his stool from the small wooden table in the corner of the room, dragging it over to where he knew they kept the first aid kit. He scaled the stool, trying to balance as it wobbled dangerously beneath him. His mission was successful, though, and he scrambled down as quickly as he'd gotten up there, opening the kit and producing what he needed. Sleeping pills. His dad sometimes used them, and Stefan knew that one of these could knock the man out for hours.

Willing to do almost anything to avoid a beating, Stefan quickly opened the small bottle and tipped the tiny pills into the palm of his hand. It was the entire bottle, but being young and unknowing to the dangers of too much medication with alcohol, Stefan quickly dropped them into his father's glass, filling the glass up with whiskey and waiting for the pills to dissolve before delivering the concoction to his father. That would keep him out long enough for him and Damon to pack their things and get far away enough from the house that he would never find them again. 

___

Two days later Stefan and Damon were found in an abandoned building in the city by a couple of Dauntless guards and promptly taken back to Abnegation. Stefan squirmed with anxiety the whole way there, his little heart racing in his chest at the scene he knew he was going to have to face. His father would be furious that Stefan had drugged him, and the punishment he would get for doing something like that and then running away would undoubtedly be the worst one yet. And Damon would be punished too, even though none of it was his fault. All he ever did was keep Stefan safe.

They arrived in their faction, but they weren't taken home like Stefan thought they would. Instead they were taken to the leader of their faction, where Damon was whisked away before Stefan could say a word, and Stefan was put in a bare, empty room by himself. 

What was going on? Where did they take Damon? Why wasn't his dad here? The questions were eating away at the young boy, and his anxiety only grew. Feeling overwhelmed, and scared to see his father, Stefan began to cry. It was only a moment before he was joined in the room by the leader of his faction, Marcus Eaton. Stefan watched him warily as he crouched down in front of him so his gaze met his, but he did feel slightly calmer at his presence. 

"Where's Damon?" Stefan asked him, his voice coming out sounding very small and scared. 

"Damon's talking to a friend of mine," Marcus replied, glancing away before clearing his throat. "Look, Stefan. Damon's done something to your father, and I'm afraid I have some bad news." Stefan stayed quiet, the only thing he could hear was the sound of his heart furiously pounding in his chest. "Your father was killed two days ago, I'm sorry." No. No, no, no. He couldn't be dead. Stefan had only meant to make him sleep for a few hours, not kill him. What about Damon? Damon. 

That was the moment that Stefan's whole world crumbled into tiny little pieces. He immediately closed himself off, refusing to say another word to anybody. Stefan had killed his father and he was never coming back. Before the man was about to leave him, Stefan finally sat up, his face wet with tears he didn't know he'd been crying. "Wait!" he cried, his eyes pleading. "What's going to happen to Damon?"