A nine year old boy watched fearfully as he saw his usually calm and jolly father seriously discussing something with the physicians and some women just outside his mother's room. His heart beating fast, he approached his father and tugged at his important-looking dress. His father turned to him, with anxiety clearly written on his face.

"Father, can I see mother now?"

The well-built man looked thoughtfully at his son. His wife needed a comforting presence beside her and it surely couldn't be him with all his anxiety.

"Go ahead, son. But don't tire her or upset her."

Relieved to get the permission, the boy ran towards the door, opened it and entered.

There his mother was, looking tired but happy and with a bundle of clothes beside her.

"Mother!"

The woman who was dozing, raised her head and when she saw who it was gave a big happy smile that the boy loved so much.

"Oh Damon!" his mother stretched out her arms, even as Damon ran towards her.

"Oh Damon, my darling," she kissed him on his forehead; he didn't try to resist. "I missed you so much, oh, have you seen your little brother, look there." She didn't have enough energy to even turn now. Panic rose in Damon. He didn't even glance at his brother.

"Are you alright, mother? Father's worried."

"Oh he always worries too much." She sighed. Then she said with an innocent smile, "I'm going to name him Stefan. You will look after him, won't you?" A sudden worry ceased her eyebrows.

"Mother..."

"Promise me you will take care of him." She caught his hand in hers in a weak grip. But Damon would never break away. "Promise me, Damon." Her tone of urgency gave him chills in the stomach.

"I promise, mother. Whatever you want."

At his words, she immediately relaxed. She laid back and contently closed her eyes.

"You are a good boy, Damon, I know you are," she said softly. Her fingers absently stroked Damon's straight black hair.

Damon stood beside his mother with a scared, confused look in his eyes.

"LET ME GO. I DO NOT WANT TO LEAVE."

The well built father tried hard to get Damon away from his wife, but he clung to the bedpost refusing to let go.

"Your mother needs rest, Damon, she is weak," he kept saying

"SHE'S NOT WEAK." He was yelling.

"Leave him be, Leo, it's alright," his mother said.

At her words, Leonard relented.

Damon never left his mother's side for the next two days.

Until her death.

At her death, Damon showed no emotions, no grief. It was as if he froze; as if his face were a mask concealing all his emotions.

It was only during the funeral that he gave vent and cried hard. But thereafter, he easily masked his feelings.

Three year old Stefan wandered off the house. There were some children who were watching him from the yard. They were the workers' children. Three boys and a girl, of about eleven curiously came close towards Stefan.

"That's the master's son. Let's go." Said a boy, the leader of the little group.

"Yeah. Let's see what he does." Another boy, possibly a sidekick, spoke up.

They hadn't taken more than a step when it happened.

A stone came flying out of nowhere and hit the leader square on the forehead. It left an angry mark. But no bruise

"AAAAAOWWWW."

Suddenly Damon appeared from around a corner.

He had a catapult in his hand and looked ready to use it again.

"Get away from my little brother." His voice was slow, clear and dangerous.

He looked like a hunter now, with the catapult in hand.

The gang immediately backed away. As they left, the girl looked back. Damon glanced at her and their eyes met for a moment. And then she was gone.

Damon replaced the catapult in his pocket and turned towards Stefan.

"Get inside, you little twerp," he growled.

Stefan did so.

It was like one of the terrible rows that Damon had with his father.

Leonard Salvatore wanted his elder son to be successful in life just as he was. Probably, even more than him. Therefore, he planned Damon to be sent to one of the most prestigious universities available. He already made the arrangements.

Damon was twenty.

By the age of fifteen, Damon's a womanizer and by the time he reached twenty, he already had a notorious reputation. Especially with ladies. All the ladies loved him. Why wouldn't they, seeing as he is charming, dangerous, seductive and sexy.

"You want to make sure that I don't influence my dear brother," Damon said. "Stefan's fragile. He needs constant looking after, something which you wouldn't be able to do, father. After all, since when have you ever been around?" He said with a smirk.

His father was enraged. He almost raised his arm against Damon…

"God, I can't," he said, turning around and gripping the bracket, "you have her face."

For a moment it seemed like Damon was touched. But he recovered himself and the usual mask came over. Some servants carried trunks outside.

"Good bye, father," he said as he turned to leave.

"Wait. Damon." His father came towards him. Damon watched him with all defiance in his face. But the man put his arms on Damon's head and planted a kiss on his forehead. "Good Luck, son."

Dropping out doesn't take all that long. Especially with Damon. Now, twenty-eight, he had already been to over four universities and his father was finally fed up. Another row.

Stefan stood watching Damon and his father. He was now, nineteen. A handsome gentleman, on whom rested all his father's hopes.

Suddenly, the door to the big hall opened and in walked a beautiful, maiden of twenty.

"Ah, Mr Salvatore," she addressed the oldest Salvatore. Her eyes momentarily rested on Damon. "Alas, my father has again gone to Germany for business. Could I again stay here, please?" Her sweet ways and gentle nature always pleased the old man.

"Of course, my dear"

"Thank you so much, sir." She went up the stairs.

Stefan watched her with an innocent love.

But Damon's eyes watched her till she disappeared around the corner. There was hunger in his eyes. And something else.

Tonight would be interesting.

Katherine hummed to herself as she combed her long straight hair.

TAP TAP TAP TAP

There came soft knocks on the door. Cursing the servants, she got up and unlatched the door. Someone thrust into the room and in a flash, closed the door.

It was Damon.

Katherine gasped.

"You. You're Stefan's brother aren't you?"

Damon came towards her with slow intent. He reached out and stroked her hair. "Call me Damon."

Katherine froze. "What do you want, Damon?"

"Isn't it obvious? What could cause me to be so restless, tonight, if it isn't thoughts of you? I want you, Katherine."

He reached toward her again.

"No, Damon, pleas-"

"Ssshh," he said softly. "You know you want me, too. I've caught you looking at me across the room."

Katherine sighed.

The door closed behind them.