I promised a Stefan and Damon scene didn't I? Well, here ya go! Enjoy!

Reviews are very much welcomed. :P

He finds his brother curled up in the corner on the white pristine floor of the hallway leading to the gym. The lockers around him seem to loom over his small figure, intimidating and Damon can't see his face from where he's standing, rooted to the ground. It doesn't look like Stefan's moving. Damon swore his heart gave a violent lurch at the sight of his still form, mind already jumping to different terrifying possibilities. Without even realizing it, he speeds up to Stefan.

He needs to check if Stefan's aliv-

No. No. Of course he's alive. Damon refuses to even think otherwise. Stefan's fine. Just a little broken, nothing that can't be fixed. Nothing Damon can't fix.

Now, that he's kneeling beside him, it becomes clear to him that Stefan is moving. In fact, he's trembling, soft shudders wracking his body and he can hear him mumbling something over and over again and is that his name Stefan's calling?

He can't help the twisting in his stomach as he slowly, almost hesitantly touches Stefan's shoulder. The reaction is instantaneous. Stefan jumps and whines, scrambling backwards so fast his head slams against the one of the lockers with loud bang.

Damon watches, wide-eyed as Stefan groans and clutches his head, pulling at his hair. His head drops down and he begins to rock back and forth at a rhythm only he seems to hear, muttering Damon's name repeatedly again. He doesn't seem to register that Damon's there. He's too lost in his own world.

Damon wants to move. He can hear himself in his own head, that annoying voice some called conscience berating him for just staring dumbly at Stefan as he suffers, yelling at him to do something. But he's just frozen, mind blank. It's like he doesn't have any control over his body, like he's floating out in the open sea and there's nothing to anchor him back to something solid. Because never, in all his years of knowing Stefan, has he seen his brother like this.

Stefan looks wrecked.

He's so pale which is saying something considering he'd always been pale to begin with. Damon's heart clenches at the sight of tear tracks going down his cheeks, at the tears still caught in dark lashes, the dark angry shadows under his eyes, how his lips are red and split from how he keeps biting on them, hair disarray even more than usual under the tight grip of his hands. He's hunched into himself, knees brought up to his chest, trying to make himself smaller, as if burying himself deep enough will make everything just a little bit more bearable. His eyes are squeezed shut, absolute misery and pain etched all over his face. Dammit, it's hurting just looking at him; he can't even begin to imagine how Stefan's feeling.

When he sees that Stefan is actually pulling his hair from his head, like literally, small clumps that drop onto the floor, that's when he snaps out of it and makes a move.

"Whoa, whoa, stop, little brother." He reaches forward and grabs Stefan's hands, pulling at them firmly when Stefan tries to struggle away, whimpering. "Stefan, stop."

He just barely manages to avoid the hand that lashes out towards his face and swiftly pulls Stefan to him, then shuffles forward so that Stefan's back is to the locker and both his arms are trapped between them. All the while Stefan doesn't stop fighting, pushing and pulling desperately at him, trying to get away. He still doesn't open his eyes, just lashes out blindly at what he thinks of as a threat. He's sobbing now, loud and utterly heartbreaking. Damon has to bite his lips hard to push back the emotions at seeing his brother like this. As determined as he is, fighting the compulsion took a lot out of him and Damon easily overpowers him, something that's not reassuring at all, considering all the human blood Stefan's been consuming.

"Stefan! It's me, it's Damon!" Seeing no response at all from his brother, Damon growls and grasps Stefan's face till it's only a few inches from his face. "Open your eyes. It's me. Damon." He shakes his brother lightly. "I'm here. It's me. It's Damon." He keeps repeating, hoping the message will get across. "Il piccolo fratello, lei è sicuro. È appena me. È Damon."

Stefan freezes. His mouth open and close, but no sound comes out. Then- "Damon?" he whispers shakily, almost like he doesn't believe it, eyes scrunched. Damon blinks at him hard then shakes his head.

Huh. Okay, Italian it is. He's kind of surprised that speaking Italian would get a response out of him. They haven't talked to each other in Italian for years now and he doesn't know why that of all things would get Stefan to listen but right now, he's definitely not complaining.

"Sì. È Damon. Venire su, Stefan, aprire i suoi occhi. Lei è sicuro, prometto."

He's confused. He doesn't know what's happening, where he is. All he knows is pain, just constant pain that refuses won't go away. Why won't it go away?

His hands dig into his own skin, trying to claw the hurt away. He feels wrong, dirty, tainted. He can't take it anymore. It hurts. It hurts.

Something pulls his hands and he flinches away. It comes back, tugging more firmly, trying to move him, and trying to hold him down. It's stifling and all encompassing. A sob or a wail, something dark and powerful and sad builds in his chest and he fights back. No. He doesn't want to be controlled anymore. He just wants the pain to stop. He just wants to be left alone. He bucks and punches and claws his way out but he's just so tired and whatever it is gripping him easily wins. He doesn't dare open his eyes. He doesn't want to see.

Something inside him threatens to break wide open. He faintly hears himself sob as he feels the final edges of his control start to slip. He feels himself starting to give in, start to surrender to the dark that wants to swallow him whole. Maybe he should let it. Maybe then he'll have some peace.

Then something encroaches on his space. It's a voice, fluid and low. Familiar. He stills in wonder as the pain fleets away for just a second, like there's something scaring it away. The pain returns not a moment later, yes, but that one second of release, that one second of freedom; it's more than enough to make him listen.

"…È appena me. È Damon."

It's me. It's Damon.

Damon...

Why does that word sound so familiar? Wait, no, it's not just a word. It's a name.

Damon...

He knows that name, he's sure of it. He forces his brain to work, trying to figure out just what the name signifies, what it represents, what it means to him. The pain is back but he stubbornly pushes it away. He wants, needs to figure this out before it's too late, before the tide pulls him over.

"Damon?" he forces himself to say aloud.

Damon. Fratello. Fratello grande. A casa, la cassaforte, il calore.

The more he repeats it in his head, the more right it sounds. There's a sort of certainty in it, like there's no way it could mean otherwise. That certainty, how he can feel it in his very bones, it settles in him like a blanket, soothing and calming.

Isn't that what he's been waiting for? He can't remember. Isn't that why he's still trying hard to hold on? Isn't that who he's been calling out for?

Yes.

He basks in the relief that filters through him, almost dizzy with how intense it feels.

He wants to laugh now, laugh and howl at the pain that's been mocking him for what feels like forever. He wants to scoff at it, to stick his tongue out at it like a child, to gather it his wary hands and squish it till it's nothing more than dust that will float away, till it's nothing more than a hazy memory that he will be more than happy to forget. He has nothing to fear now.

Because Damon's here. Damon's finally here and Damon will make it all better.

"…Venire su, Stefan, aprire i suoi occhi. Lei è sicuro, prometto." The voice coaxes. Damon.

Open your eyes. You're safe, I promise.

So Stefan does.

Damon watches with bated breath as Stefan slowly open his eyes, blinking sluggishly as if he'd just woken up from sleep, eyebrows furrowing slightly. Stefan raises his head and stares blankly at him. There's a beat before recognition fills his wet eyes. Damon stays still even as Stefan starts to draw back, releasing him reluctantly, though he never once takes his eyes off of him, ready at any moment for Stefan to freak out again.

For a moment, they just stare at each other. Stefan is wide-eyed, face pale-strained and he's not blinking, as though afraid that Damon would disappear at any moment. Face twisted with uncertainty, he reaches out jerkily with a hesitant hand, like he wants badly to touch, but then thought better of it and withdrew it.

Damon caught the aborted movement and without hesitation reaches out a hand to rest it on Stefan's wrist. Stefan's stiffens, eyes moving to where the hand is loosely circling his wrist. He takes a shaky breath and closes his eyes in something like relief before suddenly slumping forward, Damon catching him just in time.

Then, he lets out a sound somewhere between a sob and moan as he winds his arms around Damon's back, dropping his head down onto the crook of Damon's neck and clutching the back of his shirt in a death grip.

"Damon." He breathes out into Damon's collarbone. Damon feels something clench hard inside of his chest. There's so much emotion in that one word, so much relief and hope. There's reverence in it. There's plead. There's just too much and all he can do is embrace his brother just as tight.

Hours could have passed since he'd found Stefan, he honestly doesn't know. All he knows is they've been kneeling on the floor for a while now and his knees are starting to ache but he doesn't care. He doesn't care because all that's ever mattered to him is here in his arms and he has no intentions of letting go. Ever.

But then Stefan stiffens again and Damon can hear him gasp. The hands on his back clenches.

"Stefan?" Damon asks worriedly.

Stefan lets out a shaky breath and mumbles something so softly that Damon has to strain his ears to catch what he says.

"Make it stop."

Damon frowns and pulls back so that they're face to face. He grimaces at the swollen eyes that meet his. "Make what stop?" he asks gently, wiping the tear rolling down his cheek.

"The pain. It won't go away. Make it stop, Damon." Stefan croaks out, hoarse and shaky. He cast wild, pleading eyes at him, wordlessly begging for Damon to understand, to do something. He tugs at Damon's shirt, mouth twisting.

Of course, the compulsion. It's still there, still working on Stefan.

For one frightening moment Damon has no clue what to do, then he does. He doesn't like it. But he can't think of any other way.

He's pulled out of his thoughts by Stefan shaking him. "Please, Damon, it hurts..." he chokes out, red-rimmed eyes staring miserably up at him. Damon is painfully reminded of a five year old Stefan, those same wide eyes looking up at him, trusting him implicitly to fix everything, make it better.

"Alright, alright, I got you. I got you. Just close your eyes. Come here." He pulls Stefan's head down to his shoulder again, keeping a steady hand on the back of Stefan's clammy neck. He smooths down Stefan's sweat-soaked hair with his free hand, stroking up and down, over and over again, hoping it might help calm him down.

He takes a deep breath and then with an easy twist of his hand, snaps Stefan's neck.

Stefan jolts a little at the action then goes completely limp against him, boneless; all the tension in his body leaving. Damon is left propping up his unconscious little brother's entire weight. He barely feels it though as he tilts Stefan's head back.

He looks like he's sleeping, the lines of pain etched on his face before gone, leaving behind smooth skin. Tear stains and split lips aside, Stefan is calmer, relaxed, eyes firmly shut and mouth partly open. He looks..peaceful. Unfortunately, Damon knows it won't last long. When he wakes up again, the compulsion will kick back in. But for now, for a couple of hours, Damon can at least offer him some rest. He deserve as much.

As he observes his brother, he's suddenly struck by how small and young and innocent his brother looks. There's no sense of ripper in him, not while he's unconscious like now. It's kind of strange how it hits him suddenly. Stefan's been a vampire for more than a century now, yes, but in the end, he's still just a seventeen year old boy. A jaded seventeen year old boy who saw too much, loved too easily, and died too young. And he dragged his older brother along with him because he didn't think he could do it alone. Because he was too afraid to do it alone. And who else was there to trust more than his own older brother?

Can Damon really blame him for that?

No. In a way, he understands. Growing up, all they had was each other. Their mother died when Stefan was young and their father didn't care about them enough to spend much time with them. So in the end, Damon was the one who taught him nearly everything he knew. He had been the one constant Stefan's had. Actually, come to think of it, he still is the one constant Stefan has.

So all this anger and hurt and bitterness he's been carrying around for Stefan all this time, how long does he plan to carry it with him? Does he really want to spend the rest of his eternity hating Stefan? Especially now, after all Stefan's done for him, all that he's suffering through? He's had them with him for so long it feels like they're a part of him. Does he really not have it in him to finally forgive and push all their violent history behind them and just move on?

Damon doesn't know. He really doesn't.

He studies his brother for a little while longer then heaves out a small sigh.

"Come on," he says tiredly. "Let's get you out of here."

Slowly, he heaves his brother over his shoulder, groaning slightly at the effort it takes. His brother is pretty damn heavy. Still, it's nothing he can't handle. He stands for a minute, arranging his brother more comfortably on his shoulder as he glances around. He doesn't like how quiet their surroundings are. It's just him and Stefan now. Everyone's gone, he can sense it and it leaves a kind of silence that's almost deafening. He doesn't want to stay here much longer. He's got a little brother to take care of.

Time to go home.

Italian translation:

Il piccolo fratello, lei è sicuro. È appena me. È Damon.

Little brother, you're safe. It's just me. It's Damon.

Sì. È Damon. Venire su, Stefan, aprire i suoi occhi. Lei è sicuro, prometto.

Yes. It's Damon. Come on, Stefan, open your eyes. You're safe, I promise.

A casa, la cassaforte, il calore

Home,safe,warmth

Do you guys like it? Whatever your opinions are, I would love to know. So please, please review. Reviews keeps me motivated and makes me want to write more. so more reviews will probably mean more chapters. Haha. XP. Peace out!