I'm sure I'm not the only one who has written something based on Season Two's episode 7: Masquerade. I'd love to read others' fanfic on Damon/Stefan if anyone knows of anything out there! Slash Warning. Vamcest. This will only be a couple of chapters long so let me know what you think.
Her voice continued to ring in his ears. Calling after him. Begging him. Not to be left. Left alone. Her voice breaking, pleading. Telling him that he needed her. And although her reference had been to the situation with Elena, her cries rang true. Because he knew he did need her, always had. It tormented him to think he might always need her, that he might always feel this pain, this torture. He climbed the stairs, his footsteps heavy. His resolve firm.
A century and a half of waiting, longing, hoping. Only to discover that she had never truly wanted him. That it had always been Stefan. And in the darkest recesses of his heart, he had known. Known all along, that if pushed, if forced to choose, she would cast her destiny with his brother's. That she would choose Stefan. The pain this caused was all encompassing, excruciating. He wanted to rid himself of it, to flip that switch that held him tenuously to his humanity. He walked away from the tomb slowly into the night.
He understood. Truly. He got it. She loved him. But it was too much. Too much to ask of a mortal. This never-ending life was overwhelming. The dangers of his world too real. And she felt the need to protect those she loved at all costs. Even if it meant giving up on them. Letting go of their love in order to save those around her. He had wanted to tell her that it wasn't that simple. That the other girl would not just let things be. That other forces were at play, out of his control. And out of Elena's. But he hadn't. He let her walk away. And then he turned and left the masquerade party and disappeared into the night.
The boarding house was gloomy, quiet, looming in its emptiness. The vampire sank into a couch and stared into the tall, crackling flames. His thoughts dark, unsettled. He felt like his skin was crawling. He fought the urge to move. Sat with his musings, his unhappiness. Didn't try to fight the waves of bitterness that washed over him as he re-played the scene in the tomb over and over in his mind.
A crystal cut lowball was placed in his hand. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw his brother turning to pour himself a drink. "Where's Elena?" he asked flatly. "Is she OK?" Silence was his response. The younger brother dropped onto the couch beside Damon. "I'm thinking of leaving. This trying to have a normal life is failing miserably." Damon snorted. "Yeah, right. This thing isn't over by a long shot, buddy boy. And you have to be around. To protect Elena. And her posse. But, apparently, this town is only big enough for one Salvatore brother and it isn't me." The two brothers drank in silence, lost in their own darkness.
"How do you always get everything and everyone you want?" Damon snarled after what seemed liked hours. The vicious tone and angry words startled Stefan. Not that he wasn't used to his brother's quickly shifting moods. It was just that tonight Damon had seemed different, more pensive that Stefan had seen him in a long time. He recognized that it must have been difficult for his older sibling. To lock up the woman he had loved so hard and for so long. Despite her failings. Her games and her wickedness. Damon and Katherine were a lot alike. They always ended up hurting the very people they professed to love.
"I don't," he answered simply. Damon snorted derisively. "Yeah, you do. And it's fucking annoying. To those of us who don't. Get what we want. And who we want. I'm the one who stayed loyal to Katherine all these years. Defended her. To everyone, including you. And, what does she do? Throws it in my face. Denounces everything that ever was between us. Bitch." His breathing was rapid, his fists clenching and unclenching. Damon leapt to his feet. Began pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. Stefan watched warily from his place on the couch. Debated as to how best diffuse the escalating vampire.
"Whatever" he tried, "She's where she belongs now. Away from us and away from Elena." Damon hissed. Sped quickly to glower into Stefan's face. "You are so naïve. She is not going to stay gone. I can feel it. And you and I are screwed. Screwed by the woman we loved. She has destroyed both our lives. Will continue to destroy our lives. You will never be with Elena forever. We can never be with humans again in the way you want to be. It's not possible. And the sooner you get that into your head, the better off you'll be."
Stefan rose in a blur and tossed his brother across the room. Damon barely missed landing in the fireplace, crashing instead into a heavily framed picture. Wincing, he cracked his neck. Stefan was in his face before he could move, fangs bared, dead eyes glaring. "Shut the fuck up. I love her and she loves me. And it will work. We just need time. And I'm sick of your negativity. I thought we were beginning to get back to what we had before. But every time you start to show some caring, some concern for the humans we've surrounded ourselves with, you do this. You pull back. Turn it off. It's getting old, Damon."
Damon began laughing, a cruel, mocking sound. "Oh, and you're so perfect my dear brother. I forgot who I was talking to, Saint Salvatore. Good luck with that. I, however, foresee many deaths and much suffering in your distant future. As the result of your interference in the lives of mere mortals. So, I hope your conscience is OK with that. I'm fucking out of here." Damon pushed Stefan harshly away and turned to walk out of the room. He was halfway up the stairs when he heard it. The muted sounds of his brother crying. Softly. Damon could practically hear the tears rolling down Stefan's cheeks. Damon's step faltered. He sighed. Stopped. Lowered his head. Turned and descended. Returned to his brother. Like he always did.