A/N: This has been expanded from the original one shot. I love the relationship between these poor damaged brothers more than any other on the show and I like to do quick character studies of them from time to time. I hope you enjoy this one. It's just a moment in time, following the devastating S3 finale. Feel free to let me know, one way or the other.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Vampire Diaries or TVD related


He moved down the few steps and into the library, crossing to the bar with that deceptively languid stroll. He knew he looked nonchalant, maybe even a wee bit intoxicated, but don't let it fool you. He was fully aware, always on edge and ready to spring if it became necessary. Well, not really so much if as when, because it always did become necessary around this place. Never a dull moment in this sleepy little town/seething hell-mouth.

"Nothing bad ever happens in Mystic Falls."

He winced slightly at the old memory. Oh, really, Elena, is that a fact? Had there ever been a more untrue statement made? Sure, in the beginning most of what happened was actually his fault. But, still…

And now? Now not even Little Miss Judgypants could put the blame on him for the shitstorm that was raining down on their little parade. It was truly mind-boggling how fast and how far this crazy train had gone off the rails. Not even on his best day could he have caused this much damage.

He couldn't actually remember the last time there'd been a gap in the endless turmoil that was life in Mystic Falls. Or when he'd been able to let his guard down or sleep the night through instead of just closing his eyes for a few minutes. Not that he actually needed to sleep, per se, but he did need to rest, to recharge, to at least attempt to get his mojo back. This vampire body of his was an amazing, remarkable wonder but - contrary to all popular belief - it wasn't entirely indestructible. Hell, he'd been kicked, pounded into the ground and beaten to a broken, bloody pulp so many times in the last weeks he'd actually lost count.

Not to mention all the physical abuse he'd had to endure, he thought sarcastically.

So, his body was utterly wrecked and emotionally he was just spent, drained, done in. He was running on empty and he was pretty certain the last time he'd had a break was when Evilaric had snapped his neck. No pun intended, of course. Christ, his afterlife had gotten completely out of control. He couldn't even pretend to be having fun any more.

Without bothering to glance up from his bartending duties, he called out a greeting to his brother as he heard him coming down the hallway, "It's pretty early in the day for such a sad face. What's the story, morning glory?"

As Stefan entered the room behind him Damon threw a glance over his shoulder. Sure enough, his brother's eyebrows were drawn together in what had, unfortunately, become his go-to expression and his big, puppy dog eyes were full of anxiety. Poor Stef. He really needed to learn how to enjoy his own afterlife a little bit more. After all, at least he had a girlfriend to share it with. He slammed the door quickly on that dark closet - way too many skeletons to deal with right now - and prepared himself for whatever angsty drama was about to come flying his way. He also went ahead and fixed his baby brother a drink, because he sure as hell looked like he could use one.

"Where've you been, Damon? I've been trying to reach you since yesterday."

Ahh, and there it was. The kid was utterly predictable, as always.

"Oh, you know, Stef, just keeping busy. Now that you've been officially named as captain of Team Elena I'm kind of at loose ends. In limbo, if you will. I've had to find some new ways to fill my time." He flashed a quick, lopsided smirk and handed his brother a glass before tossing back his own two-fingers of bourbon. "Friendlier, blonder ways. As you can imagine, I'm kind of off brunettes for the moment."

He refilled his tumbler and then gave a jaunty salute as he walked over to stand before the massive, stained-glass window overlooking the back gardens. The Suicide Window, as he had fondly dubbed it, which sounded much more dramatic than the Failed Suicide window.

Stefan sighed. Bitter, drunken Damon was back in the house. Joy.

"Well, you can't just check out like that. Things are too…" Stefan paused, reigning in his frustration. Acting like an overbearing parent wouldn't do any good and it was more likely to make things much worse. He started again, "Look, everything is dangerous right now. I don't believe for one second that the council bought into that story about Vampire Ric and his private agenda. You know as well as I do that they're cooking up something behind closed doors." Stefan ran an agitated hand through his short hair. "Doors that are now closed to you, I might add. So, in the meantime, we need to be careful. That means we keep in close contact until we find out what they're up to."

He stared at Damon's back, not sure whether the tensed shoulders were caused by some general irritation, at being called out for reckless behavior or if it was something else altogether. You never knew what was bubbling beneath that cool exterior but you better believe there was always something. And it was usually trouble.

But, his brother just gave a little laugh. "Oh, I've got some thoughts on how to handle those vervainaholic council members. Probably best if you don't think too much about it, though. I mean it, Stef, you'll have to apply for a special permit if you try to add any more worry-lines to that forehead."

Stefan bit back any comment he might have wanted to make, refusing to encourage him. What Damon didn't seem to realize was that at least half of the lines were there on his account. Not that it would matter to him, anyway. Damon did whatever the hell Damon wanted to do and Stefan was left to spend his time worrying about him and then picking up the pieces when things fell apart. He spent a hell of a lot more time stressing about his brother than he did Elena, that was for sure. You just never knew what the guy was going to do, what trouble would find him and what conflict he would refuse to back down from. Damon was incredibly smart but equally reckless, never thinking about the impact his actions might have. He just catapulted himself into danger as if he couldn't care less what happened to him. And the hell of it was, the thing that scared Stefan more than anything in the world was that he knew - deep down - that Damon didn't care.

The constant stress of that knowledge exhausted him beyond all measure.

So, he forced himself to back off and be more reasonable. He couldn't rile Damon's unstable temper, sending him off to God knows where to do God knows what. That was the last thing they needed. No, right now they needed him present along with his strength and his cunning. "We're relying on each other, Damon, and whether you've thought about it or not, that includes you. You're part of this, too." Stefan paused for a beat, waiting until his brother glanced back at him before adding, "You can't go rogue on the Council. You also can't check-out and take a spur of the moment road trip to go play Sloshball with a bunch of sorority girls, as tempting as that might be for you."

Seriously?

Did Stefan really just say that? This was the same douchebag who played a fun little game of Twister Death Match with those self-same sorority girls? And ruined one of his best rugs in the process? Sometimes he just could not believe the self-righteous BS that flowed from his brother's mouth. Damon forced himself to walk slowly over to the desk and set the crystal tumbler down very carefully before responding. He'd been working so hard to control the simmering rage and resentment that, he had to admit, was still tweaking him about Stefan's whole "Yeah, well, I let her die and she STILL chose me" situation and now he was gonna get this dumped on him, too?

Beautiful. His life was just a freaking fairy tale.

When he was finally able to actually form a sentence, he had to deliver it through gritted teeth, his voice low to hide the faint tremor caused from the extreme effort it was taking him to keep from laughing in his brother's face. Or snapping his neck. "I can't believe what I'm hearing from you right now. You name a time - one time - for the last year in this miserable town that I haven't been there for you. When I haven't backed you and your little gang up. When I haven't risked EVERYTHING for you and your girlfriend. When? Hmm? When was that, Stefan?" he spat his brother's name out as if it were poison in his mouth.

Stefan at least had the good grace to lower his eyes and look ashamed. Damon was right. He had been there. He'd stayed and helped even when Stefan himself was off on a raging blood bender in the mountains and then casually popping back in to murder the local news reporter. Still, even if it wasn't fair, one year of good behavior couldn't erase the century and a half of hatred and mistrust that lay between them.

"Look, I know you've made changes, Damon, and I appreciate what you've done here. So does Elena, so does everybody. But what I also know is that your moral compass isn't always pointing due north. That you don't always see things or feel things the way the rest of us do. I know that in the grand scheme of your existence, all of this," he spread his arms as if to encompass the entire town of Mystic Falls and all of it's residents, "has just been a blip on your radar. What I need now is for you to understand how much more it matters to me." He looked up, met Damon's eyes, "If something goes wrong here, you'll just turn your back on it. You'll just flip your switch and it's right back to private jets and Italian villas. But I'm not like you and if this all comes crashing down I'll have to live with it for the rest of my life." Stefan reached out, grasping his brother's shoulder as if contact would drive his point home. "I'll have to face that guilt every day. For eternity. You have no idea what that's like, Damon."


What?
What the fuck did he just say?

Damon felt himself suddenly immobilized, his drink half-way to his lips and his expression shock frozen on his face. He quite literally felt light headed for a moment as his brother's words slammed into him like a barrage of punches to the face. His eyes narrowed and he glared down at where his brother still held his shoulder in a tight grip, before shrugging him off in disgust. He ground his teeth together until it felt like they'd crumble to dust in his mouth just to keep from spewing out the words that were churning like a hurricane inside his head right now.

You think you're the only one who feels?
Who cares?
Suffers?

You've never known what it's like to be me, Stefan. You have no idea what my life has been. You think you know sometimes. I've seen the pity on your face - which you are welcome to keep to yourself, thanks - but you won't ever truly know the weight of what I carry. The loneliness, the sickening guilt, all the regrets of this fucked-up life that I never wanted. It never leaves me and it never, never stops trying to break me. I've carried it alone all this time because I will not put this burden on someone else. I'm stronger than that.

I'm stronger than you.

…but it's so heavy, brother. I want to put it down but I can't because you still need me. Because she needs me.

Maybe I have been a shitty brother but even through it all, I've stayed near you, tried to keep an eye on you over these endless years. Yeah, I turned my back on you but I've never really left you and I can't believe you think I would now. I'd never leave you to do this on your own. Doesn't anybody on this goddamned planet know me at all?

...but being here has gotten so much harder and I don't know how much longer I can do this.

I'm just so tired, Stef.

He didn't say any of those things, of course. He never had and he never would, not to anyone. Whatever he'd done, wherever he'd been and whatever part of him had been broken in the process - he owned. Those things were not for sale. So he did what he always did. He forced his face back into it's familiar mask, letting all of the pain and all of the anger drain away, until it was once again smooth, cool perfection with icy blue eyes and a mocking smile for good measure. He tilted his head slightly in his brother's direction. "Your concerns are duly noted but you can rest assured - I'm on board with Team Salvatore. Your plan is my plan, baby brother."


NOTE: This little one-shot character study has been expanded now and I hope you'll enjoy it with me as I make my way through, getting to know the characters and their situations. I'd love to hear what you think so please don't forget to review. Thanks so much!