Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Diaries. If I did, the brothers would hug more.

A/N: This is my second VD fanfic and the plot bunnies are attacking! I'm jotting lots of notes down and hopefully will have more fics up soon!

Contains spoilers for end of book six, Shadow Souls, and beginning of book seven, Midnight.

Stefan's POV

I couldn't believe it. Damon. Human. If only he hadn't been so God damn curious then it would be me who would be breathing, sleeping, eating like any one of the other teenagers downstairs.

But I couldn't blame him really. I did a little, after all, it was supposed to have been me! But we all saw the kitsune hand over the bouquet, and even though I had an inkling what it was I still forgot all about it after arriving in Mrs Flowers' backyard. Someone was bound to find it sooner or later. And Damon was just…well, he did put wards up to protect the house. The bouquet could have been anything, some evil black magic. He was, in his own way, sort of protecting me, by checking out the mysterious 'gift' from a stranger before giving it to me. For all he knew it could have contained a curse or some kind of vampire poison. Not that he'd ever admit that's what he was doing but after all they…he…went through to get me out of that prison I know that he doesn't hate me right down to his very core. Maybe just halfway.

I looked up at the slight knock on my door and Elena came in, smiling at me. She sat down on the bed beside me.

"How are you feeling, Stefan?"

"Better, my lovely love."

"It's time for another feed. Only…" she paused, biting softly at her lower lip.

"What is it?" I asked, gently running my thumb across her mouth to interrupt her nibbling session.

"Well…because of the amount of blood you need – and how often you need it – another donor has stepped up to the plate, as they say."

"Another donor? Who?"

She caught her lip between her teeth again.

"It's Damon."

I had no reply to that. My brother, my ex-vampire brother who hates all humans and human-related activities, is actually volunteering the unthinkable and allowing me, his still-totally-100%-vampire brother, to drink his blood. The sole reason, in his opinion, that humans are worth anything. As food.

"Damon? Really? How did you convince him to do that?"

"I didn't. He offered."

Stunned silent again. It's one thing to be peer-pressured into something you don't want to do, not that I believed Damon could be affected by peer-pressure, and totally another to offer.

"So, Stefan? Will you?"

"Will I what?"

"Take Damon's blood. He's up next on the rota."

To say no would be rude, and seem ungrateful. I also didn't want to hurt my brother's feelings and yes, he does have them. Hidden deep down, I know, but they're there. I took a deep (un-needed) breath.

"Okay. If he's sure."

Elena stood up and made for the door.

"I'll be downstairs. See you in a bit."

She opened the door and disappeared down the hallway, leaving me to stare at the person who had been waiting (im)patiently in the corridor.

"Hi," he greeted in his normal expressionless and indifferent voice.

"Hey," I reply. What else could I say?

He stepped into the room and his black eyes surveyed my belongings boredly.

"So how do you want to do this?"

"Erm…why don't you come over here?"

He nodded and moved closer to me, glancing out the window as he sat on the edge of the bed. He's nervous, I suddenly realised. He's looking anywhere but at me.

"Damon, you don't have to do this."

His eyes suddenly met mine.

"Of course I do," he replied angrily, trying to use the harsh tone to cover up that edgy look that I can now see clearly in his eyes. "I'm a human. You're a vampire. You need blood. I have it. Simple."

I sighed.

"It's never that simple."

We sat in silence for a while, him now looking away again while I tried to think of a way to either calm him or put him off completely. I could see he didn't really want to do this, but the fact he volunteered willingly also told me he did, even if it was just because I was his baby brother and I needed it.

"Damon – "

"Look, Stef," he interrupted, turning to face me. I raised my eyebrow at the pet name. "Just…drink it, alright? Yeah, I feel weird about it, and yeah, I'd probably rather not do it if given a choice – " I opened my mouth to tell him he did have a choice but he ploughed on regardless. " – but when it comes down to it, little brother, it's my fault you're in this state in the first place, my fault you were in that God-forsaken place of a prison. And right now, this is the only way I can see of even remotely trying to make up for it. Bottom line is: blood is blood and mine's just as good as any of your little friends down there." He paused. "Maybe even better. Elena's is different, after all, stronger, maybe due to her Power. Maybe mine has some sort of residual effect too."

I slowly digested that speech and realised two things. One: he was totally determined for me to take his blood. And two: I really needed to explain to him at some point that it wasn't entirely his fault he got possessed by the malach and got me abducted and encaged, therefore he had nothing to make up for. Plus, if he had, he'd already done so by near enough going to Hell and back to break me out. Literally.

I sighed again.

"Okay, Damon," I said gently. "If you're sure."

He was again nodding even as I put my hand on the back of his neck and drew him towards me. His breath quickened as my lips touched his neck and I felt my teeth lengthen and sharpen. His voice sounded in my head.

"Just do it, Stefan," he pleaded.

I bit.

He instantly groaned as my fangs pierced his flesh and my arms automatically closed around him, hugging him to me in a gesture of comfort while some distant part of my mind was aware that his fingers were curled tight into my shirt. He squirmed slightly in my grip.

"Relax," I told him. "You know it hurts more if you fight it."

"I'm not fighting it," he answered back. "It just….feels strange."

It was at that point I was sure. I had always suspected but it wasn't the sort of thing you went around asking your big vampire brothers. Damon had never had his blood drunk before.

"Except Katherine," he replied.

How did he hear that? Then I realised our minds were mingling, our emotions flowing into one another. Our inner speech colliding.

I heard his mental gasp as he received my intense pleasure and appreciation of the blood I was guzzling from him, with the subtle undertones of feelings of nurture and being cared for. I could feel his uneasiness fade and his heart rate slowed. I was pretty sure I felt a tender wave of concern and affection before he somehow managed to coat it with a fierce sense of duty and obligation.

His blood was rich and dark, an exotic cocktail. I don't know why I thought that, it just tasted of so many different things.

"Of different humans," his mind whispered foggily.

"Hush," I whispered back, not caring at that point about my brother's questionable past.

I liked this, enjoyed it even. Re-acquainting myself with the brother I hadn't been this close to in years. Tasting Damon's blood on my tongue. Hearing him breathe, both through my ears and through my mind. Smelling his scent around me; leather, coffee and a faint hint of orange. The weighty feel of him in my arms. Everything about him was so solid, so strong. So Damon.

Then there was a strange silence I couldn't quite comprehend. I could still hear the wind outside. I could still hear the faint voices coming through the floorboards. I could still hear Damon's breathing, hear his heartbeat. What I couldn't hear was…his thoughts.

I suddenly focused and the world came crashing back. How long had I been drinking from him? How much?I instantly pulled off of him and my fangs retracted in horror as he slumped against my chest, limp in my arms. Oh, shit.

"Sage!"

I don't know why I yelled for him, some instinct inside me compelled me so. The bronze vampire was soon at my doorway and strolled across the room immediately as he realised the problem.

"Ah, but you have drained him a bit too much, mon petit. He is unconscious, no?"

"Yes," I replied anxiously. "But he will be…I mean…I haven't seriously hurt him, have I?"

"Oh, no no, do not fret, my friend. Your brother will be fine. He just needs some rest, that is all. Let me take him."

"No!" I cried quickly as Sage moved to lift him, then blushed as he looked at me inquiringly. "I mean, I'd rather you left him here with me, please. I just…I want to keep an eye on him, if that's okay?"

He smiled at me knowingly.

"Ah, but of course. Just let him rest and he should wake up of his own accord. Maybe one should seal that up first, though, no?" he queried, nodding to the still bleeding wound on my brother's neck.

I flushed at that simple rookie-vampire mistake and gently lapped at the blood, swiping my tongue over the bite, the chemicals in my saliva encouraging the skin to heal until the marks had faded to dull pink dots. I nearly set up a long wail of protest when Sage moved Damon from my lap, only to bite it back when I realised he was gently placing him on the bed beside me.

"He will be fine," Sage assured me once more, before he left the room.

I was a bit unsure what to do now. I desperately wanted Damon to wake up so I could frantically apologise, but on the other hand did I really want to face his wrath? Maybe I should have let Sage take him after all.

Then I glanced back down at Damon's too pale face and changed my mind instantly. I didn't care about the consequences right then. I just wanted to look after my brother. I couldn't believe that in all my eager re-familiarising with my brother that I had forgotten one crucial point, a point that should have been obvious due to the act that I had been undertaking. Damon was human. Damon was completely and irrevocably human, more weak and vulnerable than he had been in over five hundred years. Never in his whole vampire existence had Damon ever collapsed in my arms like that. And I was the sole cause for it now.

I sighed heavily and leaned forward to gently brush back some wayward locks from his forehead, only to snatch my hand back in shock. Damon was blinking up at me blearily, no doubt demonstrating his heightened human abilities, scaring the life (unlife?) out of me in the process.

"What happened?" he slurred.

I sent him a wide-eyed, please-don't-hate-me look.

"I'm sorry, Dami. I didn't stop in time. I took too much from you."

It took him a few seconds to catch up with my train of thought, then he blinked at me again and half-smiled.

"Oh. I see. Well, never mind, little brother. No harm, no foul."

"But, Dami, I could havereally hurt you. I'm sorry, I really am," I pleaded, guiltily.

"Stef, I've done so much worse to you, and on purpose too. Forget it. And don't call me Dami. I haven't answered that since I was six."

"Damon, I could have killed you!"

"But you didn't. You were nowhere near. You would have never got anywhere near, Stefy-Boy, you know that."

"But I never thought I'd ever take some much from you that you'd faint either."

"I didn't faint. I passed out in a manly fashion."

"You didn't even warn me. You should have told me you were feeling woozy."

"What's a little wooziness between brothers, huh? You needed it. And I'm fine!"

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Are you sure you're sure?"

"I'm sure I'm sure."

He sat up and his eyes suddenly glazed over. I caught him quickly as he flopped backwards on to the bed again.

"But maybe I'll just lay here a while," he added faintly, causing me to send him a wry smile.

"Maybe you should. Just for a little while."

I laid back down as well so we were both lying side by side, staring up at the ceiling.

"Elena still downstairs?" he asked.

"I guess so."

"She's next on the rota, right?"

"Ah ha."

"Then maybe I'll stay here until she comes up. If that's okay?"

I smile to myself.

"Sure, Dami. That's okay."

There was a few minutes comfortable silence.

"Stef?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't call me Dami."

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