Take Your Brother

Inspired by 1x18 Murder of One

"Take your brother. As a sign of goodwill." Rebekah offered. Just simply that. Stefan takes his brother home. A bit of a prequel to Walking Wounded.

Stefan blurred to Damon's side before Klaus had completely stepped out of the room and watched as Damon's shoulders ripped themselves back together, the muscles tensing, pulling the bones back into the sockets.

"Can you stand?" Stefan asked putting an arm around Damon's waist, trying to leave the shoulders alone to complete their agonizing healing. At Damon's nod Stefan pulled Damon to his feet. Damon stood on legs that were barely there, leaning heavily into Stefan. Supporting most of Damon's weight Stefan steered him clear of the congealed mess of blood on the floor. Stumbling, tripping, falling, lifting he led Damon the twenty or so paces into the grand foyer.

Rebekah stood in the upstairs parlor her eyes fixated on the last of the nine stakes as it was rapidly consumed in the fireplace. The sound of stumbling footsteps drew her attention away from the flames. She walked over to the banister and looked down to see Stefan half dragging, half lifting Damon into the foyer. They were perfectly framed by the twin staircases, a surreal movie outtake. She didn't feel the expected satisfaction at her systematic dismantling of Damon yet she couldn't pull her eyes away.

"Ten more steps and we're out." Stefan coaxed his voice tripping over a note of urgency.

"I need a moment." Damon gasped, allowing himself to fall away from Stefan. He collapsed onto his knees his arms hanging limply at his sides, the blood from his still weeping wounds adding a crimson hue to the sunburst pattern of the tiled floor. Stefan crouched in front of Damon. "Door's right there," he pleaded gently. Taking Damon's face in his hands he directed Damon's gaze toward it. The distance might as well have been a thousand miles. Damon closed his eyes, his head falling forward onto Stefan's chest. Stefan held onto Damon for a moment the blood from Damon's wounds soaking into his own shirt, his own chest. He swept the hair from Damon's face, his touch feather light, trying not to add to Damon's burden of pain.

"I got you." Stefan whispered, determination and decisiveness mingling with the softness of his tone. In a powerful motion he pulled Damon into his arms, cradling Damon's torso against his body, one arm supporting under Damon's knees. He instantly covered the short distance to the entrance and took one heavy heeled boot to the door. The latch broke easily and the massive door swung wide. Another ten paces and they were at the car. Rebekah's feet propelled her down the staircase to the entryway. She stood there captivated, her eyes locked on the unfamiliar scene.

"Putting you down." Stefan said releasing Damon's knees. Damon nodded planting his feet on the ground, attempting to support some of his own weight. With his free hand Stefan opened the passenger door and slid a semi-conscious Damon smoothly into the seat. Stefan flashed to the trunk and back, ripped open a blood bag with his teeth and offered it to Damon. Damon reached for the bag with limp hands but couldn't even manage a feeble grip. "Got it" Stefan said holding the bag firmly in place. Damon's eyes darkened. His veins bulging he attacked the bag like a starving man finding one final crust of bread. He drained it in one desperate long pull and barely noticed when Stefan swapped in another and another. His pace slowed halfway through the third, his eyes returning to haunted icy blue as the desperate hunger abated. He turned his head away and closed his eyes relaxing back against the headrest, breathing, a half moment of rest. He flung open his eyes, waiting, but the pain though anticipated, still induced a tortured cry. Damon drew his hands protectively into his chest, lightning bolts of electric fire shooting from his finger tips to his shoulders. Hands still aflame with fire he cautiously tested their responsiveness, moving each finger slowly, rotating his wrists.

"Nerves back on line?" Stefan asked his face contorted with the pain he didn't feel, but felt so keenly.

"That smarts." Damon grimaced taking the bag from Stefan in a tentative grip.

"You okay from here?" Stefan asked. At Damon's nod he flashed around the car and climbed behind the wheel. He gunned the engine and peeled out onto the road.

"Bottoms up." Damon attempted an exhausted smile. He rolled his shoulders painfully rubbing the backs of his wrists which had healed rapidly but avoided the inner wrists which were a congealed mass of raw flesh and scars weeping blood. He winced and touched his neck, his finger tips coming away with fresh blood from a still open wound.

"I'm bleeding all over your car." He groaned reaching for another blood bag. He ripped it open taking more measured sips.

"Think I'm concerned about the upholstery right now?" Stefan asked his gaze fixed determinedly on the road in front of him, his mouth set in a grim line.

"Actually, thought you'd be a raving lunatic plotting the ten best self-martyring ways to kill Klaus. "

"Revenge on the brain?" Stefan sighed finally giving Damon a disheartened glare. "What'd it get us, you in chains?"

Damon shrugged and took another sip. "Did you have to carry me like a girl?" He griped.

Stefan rolled his eyes, a smile threatening to crack his lips. "Did you have to decide that Klaus' foyer was an appropriate place to take a nap?"

"This version didn't suck." Damon conceded.

"Version of what?" Stefan asked perplexed.

"Salvatorific rescue mission." Damon finally pulled off a grin.

"How'd the other one play out?" Stefan asked.

"Rescuer was much easier on the eyes." Damon said wistfully. "And offered me a direct blood source."

"Elena," Stefan sighed her name with a shake of his head. "Predictable."

"Creative." Damon protested, feigned outrage mingling with amusement and hint of longing in his expression

"Careful what you ask for." Stefan said suddenly serious. "It's not that improbable." Stefan careened into the boarding house's circular drive and slammed the brakes on at the front door. He was out of his seat and opening the passenger door before a much slower moving Damon had even reached for the door handle.

"Like this version of you." Damon said simply. "Strong, fast. Getting a brain."

Stefan reached for Damon's elbow but Damon brushed him off hauling himself out the car. "Nothing like a couple or three pints of blood to re-inflate a slightly wilted vampire." Stefan allowed an obviously still struggling Damon to enter the house under his own steam but stayed barely an arm's length away watching carefully, anxious. Damon set a straight course for the stairs not even pausing to consider a requisite drink by the fireplace. Stefan followed him into his room surprised that Damon had yet to protest his presence. Damon quickly pulled a change of clothes from his closet then stepped into the bathroom shutting the door behind him.

Stefan pressed his back against the wall and slid down onto the floor pulling his knees to his chest. He listened as Damon ripped off his destroyed clothes and dumped them in the trash tying the bag closed, cutting off the acrid smell of blood. The shower turned on, a few faltering footsteps, then nothing but the splash of water on a body and quiet intermittent breathing. Ages later the squeak of a soap dispenser and shampoo bottle heralded more purposeful activity. Two minutes later a fully dressed Damon stepped into the room.

"You were in there a long time." Stefan said watching Damon carefully.

"A lot to wash off." Damon shrugged. "Heading to Rics." He added casually swinging his leather jacket over his shoulder.

Stefan stepped squarely in front of Damon and clamped a hand on Damon's shoulder stopping him. "Don't…" Damon placed his own firm hand on Stefan's shoulder completing the circle, his expression silencing Stefan. "Should get that stake before the next rescue mission dissolves into collecting parts in a basket."

They stood silent for a fraction of a moment then Damon finally broke into a mocking grin. "Even you with all the king's horses won't be able to put Humpty back together." Stefan reluctantly lowered his hand and stepped to the side, his eyes still not leaving Damon's. Damon patted Stefan's cheek and with a quirk of his eyebrows stepped out of the room.

Ages later Rebekah remained in the doorway, absently fingering the splintered wood of her door frame. When the Salvatore's car had pulled away neither brother had so much as glanced her way, their eyes never straying from each other. She had been completely invisible. She felt an unfamiliar moisture on her cheeks and reached up to touch them, her fingertips coming away wet. She didn't understand, couldn't explain this strange reaction of her body's nor could she put a name to the haunting inexplicable exchange she had witnessed.