I just went through and changed ever Stephan to Stefan.

Well, this is me being bored. I'm sure we didn't need another one of these but I'm a sucker for brotherly love so… here we have it! Emotional hurt means a lot of crying and sadness and other upsetting stuff…

On an unrelated note, Happy Birthday Tom Hiddleston! I know it's on the ninth but I couldn't wait to put this up…

Oh, and if you don't know who he is look him up.

Now.

T.T.F.N.

"Elena?"

Stefan walked into the Salvatore Boarding House, glancing worriedly between his brother and his girlfriend. Damon looked like he was going to cry. Either that or brake that glass unfortunate enough to be caught in his iron hard grip. Elena on the other hand had worry plastered on her beautiful little face.

Why would my angel be worried?

"Stefan! You're back," Elena said, trying and failing to smile.

"Take her home Stefan," Damon broke in tiredly. They both looked at him, but his gaze was fixed elsewhere. Stefan thought that the wall could've held the answers to the universe-Damon's eyes were just that riveted.

"Damon, don't do that. Tell me what happened."

"Rose?" Stefan asked.

Elena nodded.

Damon turned a little, his eyes still avoiding theirs.

"She died," he said, his voice rasping slightly, "end of story." The vampire poured the rest of his drink down his throat and deposited the glass on the coffee table. "Take her home."

Elena caught Damon's arm before he could leave, trying to meet his gaze. He didn't fight her grip but kept his teeth clenched and looked away, ashamed of the hurt he knew was in his eyes. He was defeated. Defeated by a vampire he had only just met and didn't even care for.

No, she was his friend. She had to have been. They'd drunk to it… hadn't they?

Damon shook his head as if to forcibly expel his thoughts.

She was your friend and you killed her.

"No…" he gasped, bringing a hand up to his head. He screwed up his face and buried it in his palm.

"Damon?" Elena asked, worried. Stefan had stepped forward as well, his eyebrows screwed together.

I didn't, it wasn't my fault. I…

It was attacking you. You should have suffered. You should be dead.

"No," he said, tearing his arm away from Elena and tangling both his hands in his hair, pulling so hard he was almost ripping it out. "No, no, no!"

"Damon!" Elena said, reaching for him again. Stefan was at her side in a flash, pulling her back.

"No, I've got this. You need to go home, straight to bed. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"No, Stefan. I can't leave him!"

"I've got him, Elena. Please," Stefan cupped her face in his hands and lent down a little so that they were eye to eye. He silently begged her to let him handle this.

After a moment her hard gaze softened and she nodded reluctantly.

"Fine, but call me Stefan. As soon as anything happens."

He nodded and after a quick glance at Damon she left. Stefan waited till he heard her car leave before he turned back to his brother. Damon had retreated to the corner where he sat with his knees pulled up to his chest and his hands still tangled in his hair. He was muttering, trying to rid himself of the voice in his head.

Your fault. You killed her. You killed you friend, you heartless bastard-

"Damon?" Stefan asked crossing the room. If Damon had heard him he didn't respond so Stefan sighed and sat next to his brother. He put one hand on Damon's shoulder and used the other to pull Damon's head out of his trembling hands. He froze when he saw Damon's face. He didn't think he had ever seen his brother so broken.

"I killed her Stefan," He whispered, tears finally escaping his eyes. "She's gone."

Now where have I heard that before… wait, did he just say I?

"Damon?"

"She left me, Steph… she left me alone."

"Damon," Stefan said again, this time a little more forcefully. He pulled his brother closer, wrapping an arm around him protectively and letting Damon cry into his shoulder.

"Tell me what happened."

"She's gone."

"Tell me."

"I want her back Steph, I need… it, it hurts… please, bring her back Steph, it hurts… so bad…" The rest of Damon's words were lost in a fit of sobbing. His hands were wrapped in Stefan's shirt and he was clinging desperately, longing for comfort. In the next second he was in his brother's lap, crying silently into his chest. He felt cold, too cold, despite Stefan's warmth so close to him. He found himself wondering when he last feed… was it before he started to worry about Rose's bite…

Just thinking about Rose started his sobbing again and painful cries ripped their way out of his throat. Stefan's grip tightened with every pitiful sound, his fingers rubbing soothing circles into Damon's back. He wanted to feel bad for his brother, but a part of him didn't think he deserved comfort. He'd said it himself, Rose wasn't his friend. If that was the case then he had no reason to be this upset. Maybe he just wanted attention… yes, that was more like his brother.

He would get the real story out of Damon, sympathetically or otherwise. I didn't matter to Stefan. He just needed to know whether this was real. Whether he was another step closer to having his brother back. Whether he should at least try to care.

"Tell me, Damon."

Damon's head pressed harder against his brother's chest. He tried to speak, but it came out as a strained yelp.

"Tell me," Stefan said again, taking his brother by the throat and holding his at an arm's length. He shook Damon a little when his brother didn't respond. Red and puffy eyes widened in either pain or fear and a weak whisper broke through Stefan's thoughts.

"Make it stop."

Stefan's grip loosened and his eyes went wide. Could it be true? Oh, please god let it be true…

Stefan slowly pulled Damon back into his lap, letting his brother's head rest on his inner arm. He wrapped his other hand around Damon's own, squeezing it tightly.

"Tell me," Stefan whispered, bringing his head down and gently resting his cheek against his brother's. "Please…"

After a few seconds silence Stefan felt Damon press his wet cheek harder against his.

"It was my fault Steph… Jules came for me…" The rasped words were followed by a soft whimper. Stefan tightened his grip on Damon further and rocked his brother slightly.

"Hush… you're okay… tell me…"

"She… she was getting worse. She attacked Elena but didn't… she went out, she… she killed someone in town…" Again the sobbing started but Stefan, shocked by the knowledge of a recent threat to Elena's safety, had to assure himself that she was definitely okay before calming Damon down again.

"I got her back to the house and she… she was guilty and, and sad, and she… she was hurting… so bad Steph it was so…"

"It's okay, get it out..."

Damon tightened his hold on Stefan's hand and continued to whisper.

"I told Elena to go… and then I was lying with her she, she was in my arms and… and she…"

He whimpered again and Stefan thought that this might have been the end. He expected Damon to tell him that she died there.

He was startled when Damon continued, speaking faster. It was as if he couldn't hold the words in anymore. As if he couldn't continue to hide the truth.

"I told her to sleep… and took her to where she remembered from… from when she was human. She told Elena about it… a field with horses and trees in the distance… We sat together. She said she wanted to enjoy it with me…"

Another sob escaped Damon's throat but he spoke again before Stefan could say anything.

"She said she was scared… I told her she would see everyone again, anyone she wanted to see… I didn't want her to be scared Steph, I didn't… I…"

Damon cried out again and pulled his hand away from Stefan's, instead tangling it in his brother's shirt once again. Stefan took his now free hand and brought it to Damon's face, running his fingers through Damon's hair and mumbling soothing words. His brother kept whimpering, burying his tear-streaked face in Stefan's palm.

Even though Damon felt as if his heart were being ripped from his chest, he continued.

"She wanted to race, she… she thought she could beat me… we, we laughed."

Damon made a small sound, which Stefan thought might have been chuckle, but sounded too much like a sob for him to be sure.

"She… she counted to, to three she… she…"

And that was when the truth hit Stefan like a sledge-hammer and he held Damon close to him, tighter than anyone would have thought possible. He was fighting tears himself, but knew Damon had to continue. To say it, at least once, to let it out so he could let go.

As Damon's next words were whimpered Stefan could only rock his brother, listening as the weak voice gradually became softer. Damon's thoughts were mixed in with the story, but Stefan understood every word.

"I didn't want to Steph, she… One… she was hurting, I… I couldn't… Two…

"She was my friend… my, my only friend…"

Damon was silent for a long time.

"She died," he whispered. "I killed her."

Stefan looked down into two hurt and scared blue eyes. Ones that he thought he knew, but now realized that he didn't. Ones that were happy or angry, sarcastic or annoyed, carefree or tense.

Never scared or hurt.

"She's not coming back, is she?" The vulnerability made Stefan cringe.

"No," came the gentle answer.

"Why?"

Tears threatened to fall as he was faced with what he could only describe as his brother as defenseless and innocent as a child. But he knew Damon was fragile, not having felt properly for far too long, so he was as gentle as possible.

"Because… sometimes, people just go away. And they can't come back, ever. She's gone."

"It was me…"

"No," Stefan said instantly, "It wasn't, you did it right Damon. You helped her."

"But I failed."

"Damon…"

"We were friends… we drunk to it… she said we were… but, you're supposed to protect your friends…. and I… I…"

"Hush, you're okay. Everything's fine now."

Damon squirmed a little, shaking his head, but Stefan kept his grip iron tight.

"No, she's gone! She's gone, I killed her, I-" Damon shouted, his words cut short by a heart-wrenching cry and another fit of sobbing. Stefan held him for a long time, whispering soothing words in his brother's ear and rocking him back and forward. Soon Damon's cries turned to whimpers and finally he was silent in Stefan's arms.

Looking down, Stefan noted that Damon's breathing was somewhat labored at that his face was overly pale. He brushed his fingers over his brother's cheek, wiping away some of the tears. He brought his hand back to Damon's face when he realised how cold his brother was.

Blood. Damon just needs some before he falls to sleep, he is exhausted after all…

"Hey," Stefan whispered, resting his palm against Damon's cold forehead. He smiled when his brother leaned into his touch, sighing slightly.

"You're warm Steph…" Damon mumbled sleepily. Stefan couldn't help but smile a little.

"I'm going to take you upstairs, and you need to drink," He said softly, moving his hand away from Damon's face and sliding his arms under Damon's knees, ready to pick him up.

"No…"

Stefan started when he heard the soft moan. He stopped and listened to his brother's weak words.

"Don't take me there… not to… to where she… she…"

"It's okay," Stefan whispered reassuringly. "You can stay in my room. I won't take you back."

Damon hummed quietly in satisfaction.

Smiling softly, Stefan lifted his brother and ran at vampire speed into his own room. He was going to lay Damon down and leave to retrieve a blood bag, but Damon was clinging to him too tightly for him to be able to let go. That and he knew Damon would get scared if he were left alone in such a vulnerable state.

Sighing, he sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard. Then he slowly brought Damon up against him, so that he could wrap both arms across his brother's chest and hold him tightly.

"Damon…" he soothed, not wanting to let his brother fall asleep just yet. Damon moaned softly and rested his head against Stefan's neck.

"Damon, you need to stay awake."

"But I'm tired Steph… I'm so, so tired…"

Stefan reached up and used his nail to make a small cut in his neck. Then he ran his fingers through Damon's hair, gently bringing his brother's mouth to the wound.

"Drink first, and then you can sleep."

Damon moaned again but slowly pressed his lips around the blood. Stefan stretched his neck so that the blood flowed steadily and held Damon's head in place, forcing him to drink. At first he shook and tried to pull away, resisting the hand pressing at the back of his head, but soon his squirming stopped and his hands curled in Stefan's shirt. The hand left the back of Damon's head and continued to run through his hair as he drank freely, almost asleep again.

Stefan kept Damon drinking long after he knew his brother was asleep, only pulling Damon back and resting his head against his chest when he was sure Damon had taken enough.

Stefan liked caring for his brother like this. Damon would've called him sadistic but it was true. Damon was so… human. It almost scared him. But Stefan knew that everyone has a breaking point, but as painful as this was for Damon it wasn't his. He would wake up and they would argue, making the void between them even deeper. Everything would go back to normal. But when Damon's breaking point finally came Stefan would be there, being the sadistic little brother and actually caring. Hard to believe, but it would happen eventually. So Stefan enjoyed this moment while it lasted. He fell asleep with his brother in his arms.

…

A crash and a number of loud curses brought Stefan back into the world of the living.

When he woke the first thing he realized was that Damon wasn't with him. After that, everything else clicked into place. It was morning, Elena wasn't over, he was very hungry (very being a huge understatement) and the crash came from the passage way.

So the passage way was the way he headed.

Damon was leaning heavily against the wall, staring angrily at a cabinet and vase that were decorating the floor in fifteen separate pieces. Damon slowly moved off the wall and towards the stairs, glaring at the mess as he passed it.

Stefan ran to him before he could start to move downstairs, worried that he might fall. He didn't voice his concern however, knowing that Damon, despite his weak state, would probably push him down the stairs instead.

He put an arm around Damon's waist and supported him so that he didn't have to lean against the railing.

Damon glared.

"Morning."

"Get off me."

"I'm trying to help."

"Get. Off."

"You're going to fall."

"Now."

Somehow Damon managed to make the simplest of words sound like the most menacing thing in the world. Stefan couldn't stop himself from smiling.

Reluctantly, he stepped away from Damon and watched as his brother reached over and gripped the rail with enough strength to splinter the wood.

"Don't saw I didn't warn you."

Stefan was suddenly met a sharp pain that shot through his abdomen. He knew what it was and that he only needed blood to stop it, but was caught off guard and ended up momentarily doubling over, knocking into Damon in the process.

Damon, also caught off guard, ended up falling head first down the stairs and landing with a sickening crack at the bottom.

It took Stefan two seconds longer than it should have to race down to his brother. Damon was conscious, barely, with a rather nasty gash on the back of his head. Stefan helped him to his feet, apologizing furiously.

"If you say I'm sorry one more time," Damon groaned as he struggled to remain upright, "I'm going to rip your tongue out and make you eat it."

Damon stumbled again almost immediately, losing his balance and falling toward the floor. Luckily Stefan was expecting this and within a spit second had his brother in his arms.

"Slow down!" he said, carrying Damon into the sitting room and carefully placing him on the couch. He shifted a pillow under Damon's head and tried to make him comfortable.

It was my fault after all…

"I think I'm going to throw up," Damon moaned, burying his face in the pillow.

"We wouldn't want you to stain the rug Damon."

Glare.

"I'll leave some blood on the table then." Stefan ran down into the basement and returned with a blood bag just as Damon had finally settled into a comfortable position. He left it on the coffee table and turned back to his brother.

"You okay?"

"No."

"Do you want me to stay?"

Damon looked as if he were going to pull his brother to pieces then and there.

"Aren't the bunnies going to wonder where you are?"

"Is that a yes?"

"Go feed Stefan, I'll be fine."

"Yeh, we'll go back to hating each other. All will be right with the world."

Stefan stood up and spent a few minutes watch Damon slowly fall asleep.

Starting to become distracted by his hunger, Stefan picked up his jacket and walked quietly towards the door.

As he was leaving he heard a soft voice call to him, and turned back.

"I don't hate you… that much, Steph," Damon mumbled sleepily.

Stefan shook his head, smiling softly. He didn't think he'd ever hear his brother say that again.

So as he opened the door, he whispered back.

"I know you don't."

And Damon fell asleep.

…

When Stefan returned home after a long conversation with Elena he was surprised to see Damon walking around the boarding house, fresh and healthy.

He was less surprised to see him with bourbon in his hands.

And even though Stefan didn't want the last twelve hours and the important bonding between them to mean nothing, he still told Damon about him bringing John Gilbert back to Mystic Falls. As he predicted, they argued. Stefan saying "Isobel was gone so I brought the next best thing!" and Damon reminding him that John could not be trusted by shouting "The bastard put me in a burning basement!"

The argument lasted as long as any regular argument between the two and to an untrained eye the brother's relationship would seem as if it had returned to normal. And it would have been if not for the few words that were spoken later that evening.

Damon had retired upstairs moments before Stefan, who found the former standing in his doorway with a vacant expression. He realised that Damon was still afraid and in that moment Stefan forgot all the harsh words that had been spoken earlier in the evening. He simply sighed and walked up to his brother, telling him that he would be out for the night. It was a spontaneous decision, but he wanted to make an effort.

Then he left, not sure whether that effort had been in vain.

When he returned the next morning to see Damon curled up on his bed sleeping peacefully, he knew it had not.