A New Stefan Salvatore

Jacob stood at the doorstep of the Salvatore Boarding House, his hand hesitating briefly before knocking. The creaking of the old wooden door echoed in the quiet evening, and moments later, Sarah appeared in the doorway. She froze, her eyes widening in disbelief as she took in the sight of him.

"Uncle Stefan?" she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of confusion and shock. Her eyes searched his face, every inch of him unchanged from the last time she saw her uncle, decades ago. "You haven't aged... not a single day."

Jacob's chest tightened at the mention of Stefan, his father. The resemblance was uncanny, and he knew it. A flicker of sorrow crossed his face, a shadow of pain that disappeared almost as quickly as it came. His heart clenched at the thought of Stefan, a man he had never truly known but had heard so much about. The weight of his life—spent in Klaus's grip, far from his mother and sister—pressed heavy on his soul.

With a subtle shake of his head, Jacob cleared his throat. "No," he muttered, barely audible, his voice rough with unspoken emotions. "But it won't be for long... I'll free her soon. Free us all."

"What?" Sarah asked, her eyebrows furrowing. She leaned forward slightly, her head tilting as she tried to catch what he had said. Her confusion deepened, but the familiarity of the face in front of her made her uneasy. It was Stefan, yet... not.

Jacob blinked, snapping back to the present. He forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Oh, nothing," he said smoothly, his voice now more controlled, hiding the turmoil that churned inside. "It's been a long journey. May I come in? I could use a bit of rest."

Sarah hesitated, her grip on the door tightening as she studied him. Her eyes, bright with a mixture of curiosity and lingering uncertainty, flickered over his features. He looked like Stefan—exactly like him. The same piercing green eyes, the same chiseled jawline, the same dark hair. But there was something in his gaze, something that felt different.

She took a step back, gesturing for him to enter. "Of course," she said, though her voice wavered slightly. "Come in, Uncle Stefan... or whoever you are."

As Jacob stepped over the threshold, he felt a cold shiver run down his spine. The air inside the house was thick with nostalgia, memories of a time long before he was born. His boots scuffed lightly against the hardwood floor, and the familiar scent of old books and polished wood filled his lungs. His eyes wandered over the dimly lit foyer, lingering on the framed photos on the wall—images of Zach, Gail, and a young Sarah. But there was no trace of his father. Not here.

Sarah shut the door behind him, her fingers still trembling slightly as she turned to face him again. She folded her arms, a defensive gesture, as if she wasn't sure what to make of the man standing in front of her. "You look exactly like him," she said, her voice soft but edged with a mixture of suspicion and hope. "But... you're not Stefan, are you?"

Jacob let out a quiet sigh, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He met her gaze, his eyes softening, though the sadness remained. "No," he admitted, his voice low. "I'm not Stefan."

Sarah took a step closer, her brows knitting together as she studied him more closely. "Then who are you?"

Jacob hesitated, his hand instinctively curling into a fist at his side, a silent reminder of the years he had spent fighting for survival, for his family. "My name is Jacob," he said slowly, carefully. "I'm... I'm Stefan's son."

Sarah's eyes widened in shock, her breath catching in her throat. "Stefan's son?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper, and she took a step back, as if the revelation knocked the wind out of her. "I... I didn't know he had a son."

Jacob's jaw tightened, the pain of his past threatening to overwhelm him. His eyes darkened with a mix of anger and sorrow as he looked away, unable to meet her gaze. "He didn't know either or I guess you should know by now since Aurora is with him," he said bitterly. "Klaus made sure of that."

Sarah furrowed her brow, clearly taken aback by Jacob's mention of Klaus. The name meant nothing to her, and she tilted her head slightly in confusion. "And who is that?" she asked, her voice light, but there was a curious edge to it. She crossed her arms loosely, trying to keep things casual, though the look in her eyes revealed her genuine interest.

Jacob's expression flickered with surprise, his dark brows rising ever so slightly. He hadn't expected that response. He turned his body fully toward her, narrowing his eyes as if reassessing her, his gaze probing for something beneath the surface. "What do you know about our family?" he asked, his voice low, cautious. He didn't want to reveal more than he should, especially if she was truly unaware of the supernatural world.

For a moment, the room fell silent except for the faint ticking of a nearby clock. Sarah, misunderstanding the depth of his question, sighed and rolled her eyes as if the answer were obvious. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her body language casual but slightly defensive. "We're a prestigious family in Mystic Falls," she said, her tone nonchalant as she ran a hand through her hair. "Part of the Founders, and well-known around here."

Jacob watched her closely, his face impassive, but internally, a sense of unease settled over him. She didn't know. She had no idea. He could see it now—how her casual tone didn't quite match the gravity of what he was asking. The slight, careless shrug of her shoulders, the way she spoke so confidently about their family's status—she had no clue about the truth lurking beneath the surface. The truth about their lineage, their blood, their history entwined with vampires, witches, and far darker things.

He shook his head, a faint sigh escaping him as he whispered under his breath, almost too softly for her to hear, "Still in the dark..." His voice held a hint of regret, as if the reality of what Sarah didn't know weighed on him in a way he hadn't anticipated. He looked away briefly, his eyes narrowing in thought, before he returned his gaze to her, now with a more guarded expression.

Sarah, sensing something unsaid in his reaction, raised an eyebrow. "What was that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. She took a step closer, her eyes trying to catch his.

Jacob exhaled slowly, his face softening, though there was a flicker of sadness in his eyes that hadn't been there before. "That's not my story to tell," he said quietly, his voice measured and distant, as though he were carrying the weight of too many secrets. "Your father... he'll do the honors when the time is right."

Sarah's curiosity only deepened, but she could see from the tight set of Jacob's jaw and the way he avoided her gaze that there was no point in pressing further. She sighed, slightly frustrated but accepting that she wouldn't get answers from him. "Fine," she said with a small shrug, though her eyes still lingered on him, searching for some hint of the truth behind his words.

Jacob looked around the room as if searching for a distraction, his eyes settling on the familiar surroundings. "Where is he, anyway?" he asked, his voice lighter now, though the tension between them still simmered beneath the surface.

Sarah's expression softened, and she looked toward the hallway. "He's out in the garden, I think," she said. Then she turned back to Jacob, her lips quirking into a small, teasing smile. "Probably worried sick about the fact that 'Stefan' just showed up on our doorstep again without a single wrinkle."

Jacob allowed himself a brief, faint smile in return, but it didn't reach his eyes. The weight of what he knew, and what Sarah didn't, hung heavily between them like a barrier he couldn't cross.