Thanks for reading! This might be 3 parts but I'm not promising anything. R&R

"Christmas was always mine and Stefan's favorite holiday when we were kids. Not that I've celebrated it since. I kind of miss that." –Damon Salvatore

December 25, 1853

The floorboards creaked under weight of a 7 year-old Stefan. The sun sat just beyond the horizon, the early morning light had not yet reached the Salvatore House. Stefan tiptoed down the hallway past his father's bedroom, holding his breath the whole way. When he reached the stairs he breathed out a sigh of relief.

First leg complete.

He slowly crawled down the stairs, freezing anytime he heard a faraway bump or thud. As he reached the bottom of the stairs the familiar fragrance of pine reached his nose. It was his favorite smell along with that of fresh gingerbread from the bakery. They always told him what time of year it was.

It was Christmastime in Mystic Falls.

He knew his father would be upset but Stefan could not wait to find his presents sitting under the tree; the tree that he helped Damon decorate weeks before. He ran to the living room and stared up in wonder at the twelve-foot tree that towered above everything else. He let his eyes wander down from the star that rested on top, to the homemade ornaments made by Damon and himself, until they rested upon the mountain of presents that had accumulated under the tree.

"Hoping they're all for you?" Stefan swung his head around to see his older brother leaning against the doorway from the dining room. Damon's eyes cut through the darkness like a beam of light. Though it was dark Stefan could see the small smirk Damon wore.

"Damon!" Stefan said a bit to loudly.

"Shhh!" Damon pressed his finger to his lips. "You'll wake father. He'd have our backsides if he knew we were down here. We aren't to touch our presents until after breakfast. Come on, back to your room."

"But, I just want to open one of them." Stefan pouted. Damon shook his head. He kneeled down and placed both of his hands on Stefan's shoulder.

"Patience, little brother. Let's go before father wakes." Damon picked up Stefan who buried his head into Damon's shoulder in frustration. Damon chuckled as he climbed the stairs. He listened for his father's snoring before passing his room and opened the door to Stefan's room slowly. He laid his brother down in his bed and tucked him in. Stefan's eyes held disappointment that Damon couldn't bear to see.

"I'll be right back." Damon left the room and returned a minute later with a rectangular box that was neatly wrapped in old newspaper. Stefan could read the headlines from the week's prior. Damon sat down on the bed next to Stefan and held the box out to him.

"Merry Christmas, little brother." Stefan's eyes lit up and he took the present from Damon's hand. "Go ahead, open it." Stefan tore off the paper and opened the box. Inside was a painted metal train engine that weighed heavily in the young Salvatore's hands. Stefan hadn't stop talking about trains since the Virginia Central Rail had been built. A portion of the rail passed just outside of Mystic Falls and Stefan dragged Damon there, on what seemed to be a daily basis, to catch a glimpse of the engine as it chugged by.

"How did you get this?" Even the young Stefan could tell that this was no toy. It was beautifully forged. Every part worked the way it would on a real train. "Father didn't give you the money?"

"No, I don't need father's money," Damon smirked. "I've been running errands for Mr. Gilbert for years now. He is a fair man and gives me my dues."

"What if father…" Damon's eyes turned an icy blue and his childish features vanished as he interrupted Stefan.

"No one tells me what I can and cannot do for my little brother." He reached out and placed a hand on Stefan's shoulder. His head tilted ever so slightly and a smile returned to his face. "I'd given you a real train if I wanted to." Stefan smiled, placed the train off to the side and threw his arms around his brother.

"Thank you, Damon."

"Merry Christmas, Stefan."