The look on Cynthia's face was one of shock and disbelief. She stared at Stefan who stood before her shaking with barely-contained rage and then at Damon as his eyes fluttered shut and his face went slack.

"You've just killed your own brother…" she said, her voice slow and smooth, very matter-of-factly as she tried to rationalize Stefan's actions, "His death is on your hands, not mine," and she turned to go.

A broken animalistic cry ripped from Stefan's lungs and he lunged forward, grasping her long blonde hair before she could even turn back to him, and slamming her body into the ground, "You will restore his healing!"

At this Cynthia began to laugh, a slightly hysterical sound to it, "Listen vamp freak, if the originals really are on your brother's side then you just screwed us both over. Because we're both dead now,"

Stefan didn't seem to hear her; instead he brought her face close to his, shouting into it with such ferocity that she actually feared him. Spittle flecks flew into her face as he screamed, "Restore his power! And release your hold over him!"

Cynthia jerked away from Stefan, leaving him with a fist of golden hair, and then dissipated, reappearing a safe distance away, "Fine," she called back to him, "I will return his powers," and she chanted for a moment under her breath before turning to him again, "But don't expect him to live Stefan, I'm afraid you're little stunt has left him very damaged. I'd say my goodbyes if I were you, even with accelerated healing he'll probably only live a few more minutes. So you really only extended his agony. Oh, send my regards to the originals when they rip your head off, I'm afraid I won't be sticking around to see that…" and with that she disappeared.

All of the anger suddenly left Stefan. It was replaced with a feeling of desperation and fear. He flung himself towards Damon's unmoving body, a sound like a sob and a growl emitting from his throat as he hit the dirt beside his brother's still form. Hands covered Damon, trying to revive him, debating whether or not to remove the branch, fussing, and Stefan suddenly felt that it was all too much.

"Get away from him," he whispered.

Jeremy seemed to be the only one who heard him. Bonnie continued running her hands over Damon and Elena was wailing, tears streaming down her face. She glared at Stefan through them, "How could you? Do something!"

Stefan felt the anger building again, "I SAID GET AWAY FROM HIM!" he screamed, his eyes flashing as the veins appeared around them and his fangs descended. Bonnie gasped, leaping backwards and Jeremy took several steps back. Only Elena did not move.

"No," she said defiantly, almost daring Stefan to object, "He needs us now. We actually care about him," before she could continue she was silenced by a slap so violent that it sent her head rocking back and caused all of the humans to gasp.

Stefan barely stopped himself from striking her again. Instead he lowered his voice to a dangerous level, "You, Elena Gilbert, will not lecture me on what my brother needs, nor shall you ever presume to understand just how much I 'care' for him," Then he lowered his voice even further, "Now get out of my sight,"

Jeremy stepped forward, grabbing her around the waist and hauling her up. He and Bonnie pulled her away while she continued to scream, crying and throwing herself against them. They both tried to calm her, "Elena, stop! Stop! Stefan will take care of it,"

Finally Jeremy, frustrated and worried and exhausted, shook her and yelled, "Elena, stop! He isn't himself. Come on now. He's irrational, he could hurt all of us," And Elena finally allowed herself to be dragged down the path, watching as Damon and Stefan disappeared behind.

Stefan heard Jeremy's words and part of his mind that had gone dormant when he fought with Cynthia awakened. Yes, he was irrational and now he needed to calm down or else it would cost him his brother. He took several deep breaths and then examined Damon. He placed his hand flat on Damon's chest just above where the branch protruded and was relieved to find that his brother was still alive. Unconscious, but still alive. He let ought a breath that he had been holding: his calculations had been correct and the branch had not pierced Damon's heart as he had feared when Cynthia proclaimed that Damon was doomed.

"Okay Damon," he said gently, "We've got to get this out first," and he gestured towards the branch. Forcing himself into an artificial calm, he gripped it in both hands, giving it a vicious yank. The branch slid back with a horrid sucking noise and Damon howled in pain, his eyes flashing open and his back arching. Stefan felt sick. But the branch was still partially stuck in Damon's chest and it had to come out.

"Easy brother," Stefan said, trying to stay calm. He used his own weight to hold Damon down and took another strong grip on the branch. This time the branch came out but by the end of the ordeal Damon was crying, leaving tear streaks through the dust and blood on his face, and Stefan was panting, an overwhelming sense of guilt causing him to wish that he too could cry.

Stefan pulled Damon into his lap, wondering what he ought to do next. Damon really needed blood. He moved his hand to brush a lock of raven hair back from Damon's brow but stopped when he felt his brother cringe. Stefan looked down, surveying Damon's crystal eyes and felt his heart break. Those eyes contained nothing but fear and pain. His brother was afraid of him. The realization made him wish that someone would stake him.

"Damon…" he said quietly. Damon flinched even more and tried to curl in on himself, only stopping when the blinding agony in his chest reduced him to whimpers.

"Damon," Stefan repeated, "I'm so sorry,"

Damon's shoulders shook. He was overcome with pain, exhaustion, and fear. Stefan knew that he needed to feed to replenish the blood he had lost and he remembered Cynthia saying that Damon would not live. He had to get Damon to drink or else she would be right. Already he could see that Damon was slipping into shock.

Speaking softly and placing his hands on Damon's shoulders, Stefan practically begged, "Brother, let me help you," then he added even softer, "Please,"

Damon did not uncurl or turn towards him but his body went completely limp. Unsure whether to take this as a sign of submission or just as the effects of exhaustion, Stefan frowned but decided to take his blessings where he could get them. Gently, he took Damon's upper body in his arms and lifted, careful not to agitate the wound on Damon's chest.

He leaned Damon's head into his neck, "Drink," he ordered. But Damon made no move other than to moan. Stefan took the same branch that had been through Damon only moments before and used it to make a gash in his neck. With one arm wrapped around Damon's back he placed the other on the back of Damon's neck and guided his head down to the cut, whispering, "Come on,"

But nothing happened, Damon made no move to drink the blood that he so desperately needed and Stefan felt frustration and worry beginning to build, "Drink," he said harshly. A little too harshly. Frightened, Damon mistook the desperation for anger and tried to jerk away. Agony flared in his body and he let out a choked cry, falling away from Stefan.

Stefan rushed forward to catch him but Damon saw the quickly moving hands and assumed they were there to cause more pain. He put up his own arms, shielding his face, and tried weakly to scrabble backwards in the dirt, away from Stefan. But he didn't have the strength to move and so he was reduced to a quivering heap, pleading, "No… please… n-no more,"

This time Stefan did cry. He felt the tears fill his eyes, "Damon, it's alright now. I'm not going to hurt you. Please, I just want to help,"

Damon's face was ashen and one hand pressed over the wound on his chest as he panted raggedly. When Stefan moved beside him again he flinched away, "D-don't!"

Stefan ignored him, "Easy brother, just let me explain. I promise, I'm not going to hurt you,"

Confusion clouded Damon's eyes, "You already did," he stated blandly as the stress and blood loss finally took their toll on him and his eyes rolled up, disappearing in his head. This time Stefan was there, taking Damon's head and lowering it gently to the ground.

Stefan felt his own panic rising. Damon had to eat. And if he didn't get blood soon then the results could be fatal. Stefan bit into his wrist, smearing the blood on the index finger of his opposite hand and running it across Damon's pallid lips. The dark crimson was a shocking contrast, only accentuating how white Damon was growing. Still, the warmth and gentle metallic smell seemed to awaken Damon slightly. Beneath his lids his eyes fluttered and his tongue darted out, tasting the precious liquid that was his only salvation.

Damon made a small noise, a cross between a whine and a moan, and ran his tongue across his lips again. Stefan let out a sigh of relief and offered Damon his wrist but Damon did not latch on. He seemed too weak to even exert that effort. Stefan rubbed his fingers in his own blood again and slipped them into Damon's mouth, rubbing them across his gums and teeth. Damon let out another low sound but only managed to weakly suck at Stefan's fingers. His fangs did not descend nor did the veins appear around his eyes.

"Come on Damon," Stefan pleaded, "You need more blood,"

He held his bleeding wrist above Damon's mouth, letting the blood fall into his brother's mouth drip by drip. It was a maddeningly slow process and yet Stefan could not take his eyes off Damon and every time he tried to get Damon to feed on his own accord the other vampire was too dazed to understand what was required of him.

After what seemed like hours, though it was more like minutes, Stefan moved to examine Damon's chest. He pealed back his brother's blood stained shirt and looked at the horrid wound. A wound that he had created. Stefan felt bile rising in his throat but he forced it down. Gently, he traced the ragged outline of the hole, noting that at least the bleeding had stopped. But an unusual heat was still coming off Damon and Stefan felt himself wondering if Cynthia had left Damon one last gift before leaving.

Stefan decided that the best thing to do for Damon would be to get him home and get him some human blood. He picked his brother up and was reminded of the blinding terror that he had felt when he had first found an injured Damon at the grill. But even that terror had been nothing compared to how he had felt when Cynthia said that Damon would die. He had honestly believed that he had killed his brother.

And then that feeling of terror had turned to one of sadness and horrible regret when Damon, his brother and friend, had looked at him with fear and betrayal shining from his eyes. The way that Damon had tried to get away from him, how he had jerked away from Stefan's reaching hands – it was the most horrid feeling Stefan had ever been forced to endure.

Stefan felt tears forming in his eyes again and he stooped his head, kissing Damon briskly on the forehead, "I'm so sorry Damon. I promise, everything is going to be alright now. I'm going to fix this. I'm going to take care of you,"

Stefan sighed in relief when they reached the boarding house; everything seemed much better now that there was a bed and a supply of blood for Damon. He carried his brother into his own room and laid him gently on the bed. He then rushed downstairs for a blood bag, some towels, and a bowl of cold water.

He returned to the bedroom and laid everything on the bedside table, turning to Damon. He removed Damon's shirt as carefully as possible, trying not to agitate the wound. He then took a towel, wetted it, and began cleaning the blood from his brother's chest. The sounds that Damon began making reminded him again just how much he hated himself and he turned to apologize again but was silenced when he met the sight of Damon's agonized eyes.

"You're awake," he said quietly, placing a hand on Damon's shoulder, then his voice saddened, "I wish you could have stayed out for this part,"

"W-why?" Damon mumbled, the hurt is his eyes deepening.

"Because I have to clean out the gash and it's not going to be…"

Stefan was cut off when Damon whispered, "Why?" again. And suddenly it hit him. Damon wasn't asking why it would be better for him to remain asleep; he was asking why Stefan had staked him.

Now pain filled Stefan's voice, "Oh God Damon, don't think I wanted to! I had to… it was the only way to save you… I'm so sorry… I just… we had to get her to leave you alone… I'm sorry… she was going to kill you, hell she practically did every time she made you have a seizure…" and his voice broke, falling from coherency into hiccupping sobs.

Damon's face still showed only pain and fear but he nodded slightly, tried to let out a breathy laugh, which ended up being more of a moan, and whispered, "Thought… 'ws a goner…"

Stefan brought his Hand to Damon's forehead and stated with fierce determination, "No brother, you're going to be fine,"

Damon nodded weakly but gasped as Stefan brought the towel back to his injured chest, "D-dint haveta 'twis the damn b-branch,"

Stefan looked up at him, "Damon, I'm so…"

"'Srry… I know…" Damon finished for him.

"She had to believe it was real," Stefan continued, though Damon could tell that he was on the verge of crying again, "Trust me, I calculated. I played it out in my mind over and over and every single time it was worse, I can't stand what I did to you! But I also couldn't stand to lose you… And she would have killed you. I knew that I could do it, had to do it… I couldn't stand the thought of you dying…"

Stefan took a moment to collect himself, "Still, you're not out of the woods yet. We need to get some more blood into your system," he took the blood bag and placed the tubing of it to Damon's lips. Damon took a couple light sips but then leaned back and moaned.

"Come on," Stefan urged, "You need it. Between the hemorrhaging and the… the stake… you've lost a lot of blood,"

Damon shook his head, "Not feeling well," and his hands went to his stomach.

Stefan looked at him desperately, "Damon, you have to eat. You're too weak,"

Damon shook his head and offered Stefan his arm. At first the younger brother was confused but Damon smiled weakly, "Play d-doctor,"

And Damon's idea dawned on him, "Damon, I'm not even sure blood transfusions work on vampires,"

Damon shrugged slightly, "C-can't eat 't Stef,"

Stefan looked scared for a moment but then nodded, "Okay, we'll try it,"

He left the bedroom and returned with a hypodermic needle and some more tubing. He set everything up and then took Damon's arm, pulling it forward with one hand and checking the inside of his elbow for a vein. He found one and inserted the needle in expertly, flicking a valve on the blood bag that he had suspended from the bed post and watching as it traveled through the tube and into his brother's arm. Almost instantly a shudder ran through Damon and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Better?" Stefan asked.

"Better," Damon agreed.

Stefan then set about cleaning the wound again but his actions were met by a chorus of Damon's moans and groans. He cleaned the blood of the surrounding areas but noticed several splinters of wood bark lodged inside of the injury. Biting his lip, he reached into the wound, trying to ignore Damon's gasps and cries, and pulled them out until only one remained.

"Only one more," he tried to reassure but Damon only whimpered in reply and Stefan flinched. That sound was horrid and that sound should never come from his brother.

He went to Damon's head, running his fingers through his brother's hair and rubbing gentle circles on his shoulder, "We can wait if you need to,"

Damon shook his head, tears forming in his eyes, and forced his reply through gritted teeth, "Just get it out…"

Stefan nodded and returned to the task. His fingers sank into the wound, pressing into the raw flesh as he reached for the piece of bark. Damon screamed, thrashing on the bed, but at last Stefan grasped the piece between two fingers and pulled it from the wound. Damon's screams turned into exhausted sobs.

Stefan got onto the bed, sitting against the headboard, and pulled Damon against him. It was the same routine that had brought his brother comfort throughout the entire ordeal with Cynthia. It was the same thing that assured both of them that everything would be okay.

Stefan hugged Damon to him, carding through his hair and pressing a towel to the wound that, thanks to the removal of the wood, already looked better. Damon's sobs dwindled to heavy breathing and for a moment everything was still and quiet.

"'S over?" Damon asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Yes, it's all over now. Everything is going to be okay,"

Damon seemed to sink further into Stefan's chest.

"Listen Damon, I…"

Damon took Stefan's hand and placed it directly over the wound, pressing it down with his own hand, "Not your fault," then he moved both of their hands, this time pressing against his heart, "I'm alright," and then he added playfully, "You missed,"

Stefan laughed but pressed his hand harder against Damon's heart, flooded with an overwhelming sense of relief; he had done it. He had saved Damon. They laid on the bed in silence for a while, Stefan constantly checking the I.V. of blood and Damon breathing slowly, so as not to disturb his now-healing chest. Stefan watched Damon as sleep slowly began to overcome him. Damon's eyes became hooded and his head lolled to the side. Stefan smiled, pulling the comforter over both of them.

A drowsy Damon smiled too, "Ringraziarla,"

Stefan felt his heart swell, "Fratello, l'amo,"

And in that moment, as both brothers fell asleep illuminated by the soft glow of a sunset that signaled the end of another day just outside the Salvatore's window, everything was right with the world.

Ringraziarla – Thank You

Fratello, l'amo – Brother, I love you

Sorry, I hope my Italian in this story is correct. I had to use a translator as, unfortunately, I do not speak Italian. I hope you enjoyed the finale of Sunset Trails. As always, please read and review. A huge thanks goes out to those of you who have stuck it out until the very end!

JustAnotherSensitiveArtist