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6 WEEKS
DAMON

"So, there's this girl," Stefan rolled his eyes to show his annoyance, "she claims that I got her pregnant."

Silence – complete, utter, shocking silence.

Damon dared himself to glance at his mother Lynn. She seemed to have frozen in her seat, while his father essentially exploded and leaped across the room within the next five seconds. Uh-oh. His brother was officially in deep shit.

"She– You what?" The dark and authoritative voice of Giuseppe Salvatore echoed throughout the living room, causing every family member to turn their heads to look at him.

Stefan casually shrugged his shoulders and pouted – as if continuously spreading his seed wasn't a big deal. Damon knew that this wasn't the first girl to get pregnant by his younger brother. His indiscreet manners and his obvious inability to use protection had started to leave marks no one would be able to hide from the rest of the world for long if he continued to walk the line.

Their parents had taken care of it the first time it had happened and the second time as well. Third time's the charm.

Honestly though, Damon couldn't wait to hear his little brother trying to weasel his way out of this one. He leaned back in the leather clad armchair and raised his eyebrows, trying to hold back a devilish grin. Oh, this was guilty pleasure in it's finest form – it was sadistic of him, but it warmed his heart nonetheless.

Usually, Giuseppe Salvatore only raised his voice towards lazy employees and his eldest son. So, Damon couldn't exactly deny how a tingling sensation of not being the one who'd screwed up spread some kind of warmth inside him. He wanted to comment on the stupidity his brother managed to soak himself in, but didn't. Gloating wasn't an option and out of respect for his mother, he kept his mouth shut. He knew how to behave. Well, most of the time anyway.

By now, their mother was silently crying in her seat as Giuseppe scolded Stefan like a kid that had accidentally forgotten to do his homework for a week or two. Although, the situation before them shouldn't have come as a shock to anyone in the family. What was playing out in front of his eyes wasn't unusual at all. Stefan managed to screw up by screwing someone and their dominant, insanely rich and well known father had to fix the rest – swoop in and save the day like so many times before.

Stefan had made it a habit to drop bombs on the rest of the family every now and then. It caused earthquakes within their fort and Damon didn't like it. He was starting to get both tired and quite frankly, pissed and annoyed with his younger brother's antics and stupid behavior. If he didn't know how to have safe sex, he shouldn't indulge. It was a fucking miracle Stefan hadn't fathered kids all over town by now. His reputation preceded him unlike anything else. Gossip and rumors had a habit of circling his brother – unbeknownst to most people – and more than half of it was true.

Damon let his mother cry and eyed his father. The man looked absolutely furious and after yelling and cursing for about fifteen minutes, the father, husband and respected businessman poured himself a double and sat down in one of the armchairs, eyeing his youngest son. Even a blind person would be able to tell that the man wasn't pleased. A few awkward silent minutes passed. No one uttered a word. His mother cried while Stefan tried his best to act remorseful.

"Fine." Giuseppe grumbled. "How do you suggest we solve this mess?"

"I don't know. I'm kind of freaking out if you haven't noticed yet. I don't want a baby mama following me around."

Damon scoffed and his father sent him a stern look of disbelief. He raised his hands in defeat and the older man turned his eyes towards his youngest once again.

"Did you use a rubber?"

"Of course!"

"Alright. I suppose we'll just have to follow the usual procedure then. Tell her you'll pay for the expenses regarding the abortion. And, for the the love of all things holy, start using protection before you impregnate the entire town!"

"I can't."

"What do you mean, you can't? Don't force me to send you to a sex education class! If you know how to get lucky – which you obviously do – then you better know how to use a freaking rubber, son. Or have I raised an idiot?"

"She's keeping it."

Wrong answer. Damon wanted to wince, waiting for the explosion that would – without a doubt – come within the next five seconds or so.

Giuseppe shot up from his seat and rushed over to Stefan, raising his hand, ready to strike. But, instead of making his threat reality, the older man managed to gather his inner strength in order to stop himself.

Damon could hear the gasp that escaped his mother as the liquid-filled crystal tumbler hit the wall across the room, shards of glass spreading over the floor. Here we go again.

"She's what?" Giuseppe roared, his face turning into a deep red within seconds.

Damon turned to look at Stefan who immediately started to feel sorry for himself. It wasn't a new method of his. His brother would eventually even try to force some tears to escape in order to get Daddy to see how mistreated his youngest child felt.

But, Damon knew the truth – Stefan wasn't exactly a paragon for good behavior. No. Okay, sure, Damon could admit that he hadn't been easy as a teenager either. He'd created a lot of trouble but he'd always taken care of his own problems. And fine, his father had bailed him out a couple of times, but mostly for minor things – like, fighting with other spoiled brats like his brother.

He'd been friends with his brother once. They'd been really close back then – they'd been brothers for real – almost equals in their parents' eyes. He couldn't remember why or how, but they'd slowly started to grow apart from one another and it had hurt at the time.

As Damon eyed his twenty-one year old brother he realized that the six years age difference clearly mattered. Their parents still considered Stefan to be a baby as they obviously continued to treat him like one. The saddest part of it all? Stefan didn't even seem to mind. He was obviously fine with being the baby – no responsibility, no chores, nothing to care about except from himself. The mere thought of the young man actually fathering a child was unlikely. And as mean and crude as it might sound, the girl would be better off without his brother no matter what she chose to do with the repercussion of falling into Stefan's bed.

"I talked to her. I tried to explain it. I really did." Stefan offered and tried to look as hopeless as he actually managed to sound. "Seriously, I tried to talk some sense into her. She's eighteen and wouldn't listen. I didn't know what else to do but to tell you. I'm sorry. Dad, please, you have to help me. It's like she wants to ruin my life."

Damon rolled his eyes. His brother could be such a drama queen. He knew Stefan well enough to know that he was faking most of it. It was all just an act to get his way. It was annoying and more or less, disgusting.

It was easy for him to notice how the wheels continued spinning intensely in his father's head. Giuseppe turned on his heels, caught his wife's gaze and ordered – he never asked – her to call Rose Gibson, the company's publicist and private lawyer.

"Don't you worry, boy. I'll take care of it. Go pour me another one, will you."

Stefan nodded and walked hazily across the room. He stopped at the bar and poured their father another strong one. Stefan wiggled his eyebrows at his big brother but Damon leaned forward, ignoring him. Several thoughts and unanswered questions brewed within his mind as he quirked his lip and rested his elbows on his knees.

"What's her name?"

"What?" Stefan seemed baffled at the sudden question and interest coming from his brother, and raised a cocky eyebrow that Damon recognized all too well.

"Who knows, Amanda? Or Emma? Honestly, I'm not sure," he shrugged, clearly uninterested as he handed the tumbler to their now seated father. Giuseppe grumbled and gulped down the amber liquid.

"You're not sure?"

"I didn't exactly pay attention to the details. If you know what I mean. We were otherwise occupied. Names were unnecessary."

Oh man, his baby brother was becoming way too confident for his liking. He was slowly starting to remind him of someone he knew. Namely himself.

"Good job, brother," he snorted. "I don't know how the fuck you manage to screw up so badly."

"Hey, if you'd cared about me you'd know exactly what's going on in my life. But you clearly don't care. You know, I could seriously use some brotherly advice right about now but all you do is complain."

It was a known fact that they'd been close throughout their childhood and maybe they'd grown apart when Damon had packed his stuff after deciding to go live on his own. He didn't really know what had forced them apart – he suspected it could be a number of reasons – him moving out of the mansion and living on his own was a strong contender among the reasons.

Truth be told, he'd been forced to live a year on his own – no money coming from daddy's wallet and no financial help other than being fed a huge family dinner every Thursday night. It had been a shitty experience but he'd learned a thing or two.

Honestly, Damon rarely complained about anything. Most of the time he didn't really give a shit and it had worked out well for him so far.

What bothered him the most was that people around them actually seemed to accept his brother's behavior for what it was. Many people called Stefan the big baby behind their parents' backs. Damon had been the one to start with the nickname during a party at their summer mansion four years ago. But, what Stefan didn't know, couldn't possibly hurt him.

"Oh, so you want brotherly advice?" Damon got to his feet and Stefan took a step towards him, his face contorted with unshed anger. "Stop messing around and get your shit together."

"You're one to talk, aren't you? You accuse me of fucking up but it was Katherine who got screwed because of your mistakes, wasn't it?"

"That's none of your fucking business."

Katherine was a subject he refused to talk about. It had been years since that fateful day and he didn't want to think about it, nor did he accept the fact that his douche of a brother brought it up as if he'd been there, witnessing it all go down the way it had.

"Aw, sore spot? I'd feel guilty too if I caused such a mess. You've no right to judge me, brother."

"You need to get your ass kicked." Damon threatened, his temper flaring up with lightning speed.

"That's enough!" Giuseppe placed himself between them and shoved at their chests, forcing both of them to step back. "Apparently, I was wrong earlier – I've raised two idiots."

Damon growled at his brother, clenching his fists, wanting to give Stefan a real piece of his mind. He had no right to bring her up like that. She'd been a sacred part of who he was and hearing her name forced him to feel a rage he'd buried deep inside for so long – it was consuming him and he almost panted with anger. His brother clearly wanted him to snap – otherwise he wouldn't have even dared to mention her the way he did.

"We need to sort out the mess you've caused, Stefan. Go check on your mother, tell her to send Rose to my office. I need to talk to your brother."

A couple of long hours later and Damon stared dumbfounded at his father, who was nodding at Rose Gibson. The young attorney had explained it over and over for about two hours but to no avail. His head was close to exploding with the information they'd thrown at him. Damon felt as if he was drifting off into space with nothing to pull him back down to Earth and help him to land securely on the ground beneath him. He feared he was close to losing his shit – none of the things that had been said and briefly discussed made no sense, at all.

He blinked a couple of times and frowned. He glanced between his father and the woman, who'd been asleep when his mother had called her and urgently demanded her presence at the mansion. Although Rose Gibson had been asleep when his mother had called, she'd dressed up in a grey dress suit and had even managed to paint her face – she looked decent and well put together, considering it was almost four in the morning.

Damon would've loved to be asleep. His father on the other hand seemed strongly caffeinated and paced back and forth in his office, muttering under his breath. His father would stay awake for days on end until the mess was cleaned up. The older man wouldn't be able to sleep – at least not when the entire Salvatore reputation was in danger because of Stefan's stupid mistake to put body parts where they obviously didn't belong.

"No."

The answer to the earlier question wasn't a difficult one. It was one of the easiest decisions he'd made in a very long time and he didn't even feel remotely bad about it either. As a matter of fact, Damon felt no need to save his brother's ass this time. He'd done it a lot of times before but this was too much for him to even consider helping him with.

In all seriousness though, it would been a great lesson if his father actually let Stefan handle his own shit for once. The young man would need to grow up and take responsibility for his actions, sooner rather than later. Why not start with his latest mistake? Although, the mistake wasn't of a minor character this time. Money could potentially buy a lot of things and could get one out of serious trouble if needed, but – a one night stand that had resulted in a pregnant eighteen year old wasn't a minor problem.

Damon grabbed the back of his neck and massaged the sore spot. It was obvious that his father had a plan A, B, C and probably a plan D formed as well – just in case the first couple of plans failed to work properly in their advantage.

"Think about your brother."

"Oh, I am," Damon snorted and rolled his eyes at the stupidity of it all. "Let him deal with his own shit for once, Dad. It's his mistake, not mine."

He could see the vein in his father's forehead pulsate rapidly and the older Salvatore seemed quite stressed out about the current situation.

Damon could already tell that his father's patience was wearing thin – well, tough luck, old man. He didn't feel sorry for him in the slightest and he didn't feel bad about declining and refusing to help.

Giuseppe Salvatore wasn't one to beg or ask for favors but here he was – asking his oldest son to take the hit for his brother in order to save the family reputation. It was so ridiculous he wanted to laugh out loud at the whole thing. It wasn't just laughable but extremely crazy as well. The girl would never agree to the options Rose had splayed out on the coffee table.

Damon sighed heavily. He wanted to go home, fall into his bed and forget about the arrangement he'd been presented with. However, he knew his father and the man would – without a doubt – manipulate him into agreeing. Fuck, none of this was good. He shook his head, desperately trying to find a valid point as to why the entire thing was out of line – even for his slightly deranged father.

Rose dared to eye them as she scribbled something on her notepad. Damon glanced at her as she started to rumble around in her bag, in search of another notepad – how many of those did she need in order to take note? He wouldn't agree to anything.

She interrupted them before they could start an argument loud enough for anyone to hear within the next five miles or so. Damon looked at her, meeting her grey eyes. She inhaled sharply.

"The truth is that this could mean very bad publicity for the company and considering the fact that your father is running for mayor next election – well, lets just say that we kind of need to solve this situation before it turns really ugly."

Giuseppe nodded encouragingly towards the young female and turned back to Damon – who still looked like a ghost had entered the study and scared the shit out of him. He wanted to tell his father to go to hell but kept his mouth shut, knowing it would only make matters so much worse.

"I know that it's a lot to take in, but you need to think about your mother. A scandal like this one – you know she would lose her social status among her friends within seconds. Are you seriously willing to shatter her dreams in order to be selfish?"

Damon laughed at the irony and got to his feet – no longer able to sit still. He knew he wasn't perfect but he was far from selfish. He loved his mother but didn't really give a shit about her social status – besides, all of her so-called friends had been bought to worship every step she took – more or less, due to the fact that their husbands wanted their CEO's wife to be as happy as possible. Giuseppe wasn't an easy man to please and his employees weren't stupid. They knew to tell their wives to keep Mrs. Salvatore happy. They all knew how much influence Giuseppe's wife had on him – though the man would never admit it out loud for anyone else to hear. It was beyond childish behavior and Damon didn't understand how any of them could stand the false pretense of friendship. It was all about money, social status, and power. His mother had always wanted it all and somehow, his father had shoved it at her – probably in hopes that it would keep her mouth shut and her demands on the down low.

"Hypothetically, let's say that I agree and I'm not saying that I am," Damon crossed his arms over his chest. "what would I have to do in order to set things straight? The damage is already done. I won't force someone to have an abortion. That's too crazy, even for you."

"If Stefan remembers correctly, she's eighteen. She doesn't know what she wants. You can charm anyone, that's what makes you such a great defense attorney," Giuseppe smirked devilishly.

"I might be a defense attorney but I'm not going to convince her to agree to any of the options you've presented. And she might be young but that doesn't necessarily mean she's stupid."

"Are you sure? She did sleep with your brother."

Damon rolled his eyes at the crude comment and stretched his neck. He was sore and his muscles ached. He needed sleep and a long vacation from the chaos that was his family.

"Damon, I understand that this might seem a little crazy but this isn't a contract per se. It's more of an arrangement to keep her from talking openly about what's actually happening behind the curtains, so to speak. And like you said, she's young, she might realize that this isn't what she wants. Either way, we need to eliminate the problem from exploding in our faces. And, if I may say so myself, I don't think your brother would be able to pull this charade off if she agrees to the second option. No offense to you or your father, but Stefan is way too immature to deal with option two – if that's what she'll choose." Rose said with a stern look.

She was only four years older than his twenty-seven years, yet, she managed to squint at him with a hint of authority that surpassed his own at the moment.

Damon didn't feel the least bit tempted to say yes and have himself agree to be his father's puppet once again. His father wanted the problem to go away as fast as possible but Damon didn't feel like doing it without gaining something from it.

His father leaned in and stroked a hand over Rose's back and she flushed. He eyed them suspiciously, and raised an eyebrow in slight confusion. Damon noticed how Rose tensed once she realized he was watching their interaction carefully. His father put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it carefully and nodded towards the door. She hurried to excuse herself and disappeared through the door with a not-so-hidden-blush on her face.

Damon tilted his head to look at his father, who seemed rather occupied with the young woman who lingered just about a second longer than what was necessary in the doorway. By that look alone, he realized exactly what was going on between the two of them. He'd seen that look being thrown at his father before.

"Ah, shit. You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"I beg your pardon?" Giuseppe acted slightly taken aback at the words coming from his son.

"Nice one, Dad. What the fuck are you doing? You're cheating on mom, aren't you? How long has this thing been going on?"

"You're a lot smarter than I give you credit for sometimes."

Damon glared at his father and shook his head dismissively. This wasn't his father's first affair. It was just one of many and he wondered whether or not Rose knew about the others. Not that he actually cared about Rose or her feelings towards his father. She was an adult and responsible for her own actions.

What really bothered him was that his mother had known about the cheating for years without confronting her husband. Giuseppe's mistresses had been some of her closest friends, until they simply weren't anymore. His mother had been keeping her thoughts to herself and always smiled her way through the tabloids.

"Damon, I need you to do this for me. And, not just for me though, but for the company and for the entire family."

"I'll be putting my life on hold for my brother's mistake. How is that fair? You're asking a lot of me."

"Well then, what do you want? Just name your price."

"Ha, my price? You're willing to pay me for cleaning up Stefan's shit?"

"Yes. That's exactly what I'm saying."

Damon stared at him incredulously and ruffled his hair. He was slightly suspicious and to his own surprise, the look of pure stress and doubt on his father's face slowly managed to convince him to at least try to gain from the upcoming sacrifice.

"Have you ever heard of the word 'compromise'?"

"No, I don't think so. What does it mean?"

"It simply means, that I'll do whatever it takes if you agree to give me something in return."

"What's that?"

"I want fifty percent of the company's stock portfolio."

"Thirty."

"Forty five." Damon countered.

"Thirty five."

"Forty five."

"Forty," Giuseppe eyed his son.

"Forty five, that's my last offer, or you'll just have to clean up Stefan's shit on your own."

His father sighed, seemingly defeated. "Forty five."

He would do it for the family's reputation and the payoff would be big. Eventually. Damon had wanted a piece of his father's company since the day he'd realized his father would hand it over to his little brother one day.

The proposal and arrangement presented in the contract was one he would've never agreed to otherwise. The company was important and so was the family reputation but he would be crossing a line he didn't want to cross, agreeing to the arrangement.

He just hoped everything would go as smoothly as his father had been explaining it to him. His life would come to change and no one could've prepared him for the whirlwind coming his way.

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