Hide and Stefan
It was raining hard in Fell's Church, and almost everyone was inside, hiding from the bad weather. Everyone, that is, but two particular vampire brothers who were roaming the town, bickering with each about where to go eat.
"No way," Damon said, hands on his black-denim clad hips, "will I drink the blood of a squirrel, Stefan. You know I think that that is absolutely the most disgusting–"
"It is not in anyway disgusting," Stefan interrupted him, "let me list the ways in which it is good: 1. The healthy, nutty flavor. 2. The ease at catching the target– no influence needed. 3. IT'S NOT A HUMAN!"
Damon shook his head at Stefan's stupidity and took a swig out of the hipflask he'd taken to drinking from lately. Stefan eyed it with suspicion. It probably had human blood in it. But if Damon had a flask of human blood than why wouldn't he just agree to go hunt in the forest with Stefan? He wouldn't have to drink any of the stuff they caught.
"Damon, what is that?" he asked, aiming for a casual, non-confrontational tone.
Black eyes narrowing to cat-like slits, Damon slipped his flask out of sight and shook his head at Stefan slowly. "Nothing," he said. "Nothing at all."
Suddenly Stefan wanted to find out what it was. He wanted this more than anything he had ever wanted before– other than Elena. He was so sick and tired of Damon hiding things from him, keeping secrets, that he made a vow to himself that he would discover Damon's mystery drink whatever the cost.
"Sure it is nothing," Stefan said, pretending to agree. "I believe you my brother, I do. Now, walk with me, my brother, into the forest as I hunt for some food."
Damon looked relieved that Stefan had supposedly dropped the subject and went back to refusing to go with his brother to hunt for vermin. "Stefan, come on, you know that I hate, abhor, and detest the blood of non-human animals. We've gone over this like, ninety-five times in the past year or something. How about you come with me downtown and we go barhopping? I'm sure we'd find you a willing donor than."
"It's not really a willing donor if they're drunk," Stefan mumbled weakly, his mind still on Damon's mystery drink. Maybe he could go with Damon and get him so drunk that he would actually hand over his secret without putting up a fight? Not a willing donor, perhaps– but the after effects would be the same.
"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"
"What?" Damon said sharply, and Stefan jumped, realizing that he'd just laughed out loud. He quickly sealed his lips tight together, and shrugged at Damon as if cackling evilly out of nowhere was completely normal.
"Damon," he said, "I will, in fact, go with you to the bar, because I think that it is–" and he quoted Damon here, hoping that he wouldn't notice– "'important [for me] to broaden my horizons when it comes to blood, and get over any fears I have of overindulging, because it is, in fact, the proper thing to do when you are a vampire and therefore superior to humans.'"
He smiled at the end, pretending with all his heart that he sincerely believed that.
"…Didn't I say tha–"
"So lets go!" Stefan said, breaking off into a run towards town. "Come on!"
Damon followed him, still looking confused, and as they ran Stefan thought out his plan in more detail. He would keep buying Damon drinks, getting him drunker and drunker, until he was so drunk that he would hand over the hipflask without thinking. And then Stefan would write a poem about the beautiful experience.
One day I was standing in the rain with my brother
A terrible secret I had to uncover
I took him to some bars to intoxicate his mind
Not having an inkling of what I would soon find
That was a good start, Stefan thought, digging through his pockets to find a pen and writing the stanza on the back of his hand. He didn't notice, but it was soon washed away by the rain.
When they reached the bar, which was called The Drunkard's Tavern, they were both completely soaked, and Stefan's skinny jeans felt like they weighed fifty pounds. Damon held the door open for his brother as he shrugged out of his jacket, nodding for him to go inside. Stefan did.
"Now, little brother," Damon whispered, following him into the crowd of yet-to-be-drunk people, "look around a bit, find a girl you like, and start chatting her up. It's important to not get to blood-drinking right away; I've tried that before, it usually ends up with me getting slapped in the face for being too 'forward'. Start off with light topics, be charming… Stefan, are you listening to me?"
Indeed Stefan had been tuning him out, staring obsessively at where Damon's hipflask was stored.
Looking suddenly self-conscious, Damon moved took the flask out, took a quick drink, and put it into the pocket of his jacket, which was draped over his shoulders like a cape. Stefan forced himself to look away from it, all the while bubbling with excitement to get his hands on the secret.
"I wasn't listening to you Damon, but that's okay because I didn't really think I was missing anything," Stefan admitted, walking over to the bar and sitting down. "I hope you don't mind that I was ignoring you; it's just that I think I'll stick to my own strategy now, yours never really seem to work."
"Oh, okay, I see how it is," Damon said, sitting next to him and looking irritated. "Humph."
"Hey, bartender, over here!" Stefan yelled, feeling that he wasn't getting the service he needed to continue his plan. The bartender looked at Stefan over his shoulder, and Stefan seized that moment to Influence the man. He implanted compelling thoughts into his brain: You will serve my brother drinks until he is on the verge of passing out, and you will ignore the other customers.
The bartender dropped the drink he was mixing onto the floor and made his way over to the brothers with a blank expression on his face. Luckily it was so busy in there that no one seemed to notice.
Except, that is, for Damon, who looked pleased with the attention. "Give me Fuzzy Naval," he said, drumming his fingers on the counter. "And a Bloody Mary for this girl here," he added, nodding over at a red-headed girl who was sitting near by. She blushed in surprise (obviously not a regular) and Damon gave her his usual half-smile that drove girls wild, which Stefan would never understand.
Stefan added quickly, "Damon would also like two large mugs full of beer, sir."
Damon looked at him like he was crazy. "I would not!" he said, the bartender was already walking away to get the drinks. "What was that, Stefan?"
"Nothing," Stefan said, shrugging. "You just look thirsty, is all."
"Yeah, but not for that, and you know it," Damon hissed.
Stefan waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, just enjoy the gift. You should be thanking me, Damon, for being such a good brother."
This only made Damon roll his eyes, but when the drinks came back he downed them all quickly and seemed unaffected. If Stefan hadn't known for sure that vampires could get drunk (he had… personal experience here) he might have been worried about how his plan would work out, but he knew that it just took longer to affect vampires than humans. A couple dozen more drinks and Damon would be keeling over with alcohol.
"Okay, Stefan, did you pick a girl yet?" he was asking, but Stefan ignored him and caught the bartenders waiting eye.
"Sir, we need two mugs of Guinness over here, five shots of whiskey, and all your vodka. My brother needs it, trust me."
As the bartender set to work, Damon grabbed Stefan by the ear and pulled him roughly over to look him in the eyes. "What the hell?" he said. "I'm not drinking all that, Stefan, that's not part of tonight's plans. I need to go seduce that girl–"
"Oh, just drink," Stefan said, and the bartender slid everything over to Damon. "Come on, let's ignore the girl and have fun. Brother's night out. We haven't had fun together in ages."
Damon looked touched. "You really want to have fun with me?" he asked.
"Yes," Stefan lied. "Of course I do. Now, drink up, it's all on me."
Taking a quick drink of one of his beers, Damon slid one of the shots of whiskey to Stefan, smirking with pleasure. "Well then," he said, "you've gotta drink too."
Knowing that it would move the plan further along, Stefan took a sip of the whiskey and smiled back at his brother. Damon normally wasn't an easy person to manipulate– rather the opposite, really– but Stefan knew that secretly he wanted to better his relationship with his brother. Stefan usually didn't do anything to help that dream, trying constantly to make sure that Damon stayed away from Elena while maintaining a healthy lifestyle (this annoyed Damon to no end). But now, Stefan knew that Damon must have been feeling pretty good– his brother finally wanted to do something with him, something cool that he approved of. And he certainly wasn't going to try and stop him.
So of course he drank all the drinks Stefan gave him, downing bottle after bottle of vodka and then moving onto some champagne that Stefan had ordered. He was so intent on having fun that he didn't even seem to notice that Stefan's own drink was still full.
The plan was going perfectly, Stefan thought, as Damon's speech began to slur.
"An' then," Damon said, in the middle of some rambling story as Stefan handed him glasses of wine, "an' then I said to her, I said, 'I know if there's one thing I'll remember about you, it'll be your tongue', and she didn't really like that, she actually, she tried to slap me, an' then I guess she kind of died in misery…."
He wobbled where he sat, eagerly accepting the rum Stefan gave him. Stefan had to keep in mind not to get him too incoherent– if the secret in the hipflask was something that needed an explanation from Damon, he needed to be able to talk.
After two more glasses of rum, Stefan decided that it was time.
"Damon, I need to ask you something," he said calmly. Damon turned his unfocused black eyes onto his brother and smiled.
"Sure, go ahead," he said, holding out his hand for another drink. Stefan handed him an empty glass and he didn't seem to notice. Good.
Stefan paused for a moment, considering how best to phrase it. "Would you mind handing me your jacket for a moment?"
Damon looked around for it, discovered it hanging on the back of his chair, and threw it at Stefan. "Why? You cold 'r something?"
"No," Stefan said, searching the pockets, "I'm not cold." The hipflask wasn't anywhere in the jacket– but how? Stefan had seen Damon put it in there with his own two eyes, had been watching his brother closely this whole time! Except when ordering drinks… Damon must have moved it then. "Brother, where's your hipflask?"
"What?" Damon's voice was suddenly sharp, and he sat up straight to stare at Stefan. "What did you say?"
He couldn't afford to make Damon mad and said smoothly, "I asked you where your hipflask was, please, I'd like to look at the design, see if I can find one like that somewhere when I go shopping later."
Smile.
It didn't trick Damon. The older Salvatore pushed away from the bar and stood up, grabbing his jacket back from Stefan and looking furious. "You're not getting my hipflask, Stefan. Was this all this was about? Stealing from me?"
"Did I say I wanted to steal it?" Stefan demanded, also standing up. "No, I didn't, but GOOD IDEA!" He lunged at Damon, sending him sprawling to the ground. Everyone in the bar turned to stare at them, but Stefan didn't care. At the moment all he cared about, all he wanted, was his brother's secret, and it was so, so close. He wanted to know what it was. He knew that Damon always kept the best things for himself, and for once he wanted to be included in this.
"Get off me!" Damon said, thrashing around. His motor control, usually so fine and unbeatable, was incapacitated, the alcohol taking its toll on his fighting skills. "Stefan, what in the world is your problem?"
"Give me your secret hipflask," Stefan growled, pinning down Damon's arms and legs. "I demand it. NOW!"
The humans were babbling in the background, but Stefan did not care. He was ready to start stripping his brother down to search for the secret but was stopped when strong, tan arms pulled him to his feet.
"Mon ami!" Sage said. "Qu'est-ce que c'est? What is this?"
"SAGE, YOU LET ME GO, NOW!" Stefan roared kicking at him and trying to get away as Damon scrambled up and ran out of the bar. "LET ME GO, I SAID!"
The Frenchman did, and Stefan fell to the ground hard. He turned around to glare at Sage, who looked absolutely confused. He wanted to hurt Sage, but he didn't have time, and sprinted out of the bar after his brother.
"DAMON!" he yelled as loudly as he could. "DAMON, YOU COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW, WE NEED TO TALK!"
It was still raining, hard, but Stefan didn't care. He'd just caught sight of his brother, walking– more like stumbling, really– as fast as he could away from the bar. Using his vampire powers, Stefan ran sprinted after him.
When he had caught up, he pushed Damon against a lamppost and held him up by his neck, furious that he had let him get away. "Damon, this isn't funny. I'm sick and tired of you always keeping things from me–"
"Like what?" Damon demanded, his voice strained because of Stefan's hold. "What do I keep from you, exactly, Stefan?"
"You didn't tell me when you came into town and started seeing Elena–"
"We weren't talking back then!"
Stefan tightened his grip and moved on to the next example. "I was the last out of all our friends to find out you were alive again after you got killed by a tree in the Dark Dimension. Even MATT knew before I did! MATT!"
Damon was clawing at Stefan's hands weakly and Stefan felt heady with power. Not that he was stronger than Damon, but Damon was so drunk that he couldn't fully use his powers to defend himself against Stefan.
"Look," he choked, "that was just a matter of you being at the wrong place at the wrong time, Stefan–"
"NO IT WASN'T! YOU HIDE THINGS FROM ME! YOU HATE ME! AND I'M SO BLOODY SICK OF ALL YOUR SECRETS!" Stefan let go of his neck and started pounding Damon's body with his fists, hitting hard and breaking his ribs. "GIVE ME THE SECRET HIPFLASK OR I WILL KILL Y–"
With a sudden burst of energy, Damon pushed Stefan off of him and started groping through his jeans pockets. "Here– I-I'll give it to you, soon as I find it…."
Stefan stood over him, seething, and seconds later, Damon found what he was looking for and shoved a hipflask into Stefan's hand.
"Just take it!" he yelled, standing up. "I don't care anymore, you can have it, just leave me alone! You just– don't– get someone drunk and then beat them up, Stefan, it's not– it's not honorable." Damon had thrown one of Stefan's most valued traits right into his face, but he didn't care.
Stefan stared down at the beautiful flask and opened it, excitement bubbling through his veins, and peered into it. The secret– at last….
It was a clear liquid. Stefan peered into it, sniffing to try and detect the scent of some sort of potion, but all he smelled was…
Water.
"What is this!" Stefan demanded, lunging forward and grabbing Damon's shoulder before he could get away. "Is this the real thing? Or is this some sort of trick!"
Damon looked like he had given up all hope of keeping the truth from Stefan. He looked Stefan morosely in the eye. "What do you think it is?"
"A TRICK! WHY WOULD YOU BE DRINKING WATER OUT OF A HIPFLASK AND NOT TELLING ME WHAT IT WAS?"
"That's not just any water, Stefan," Damon said. "And it's not a trick. You think I would lie to you now? Look at it again. Smell it." Stefan was confused now. He smelled it again. And this time he smelled something new in the water. "Unicorn bait," Damon said, and Stefan nodded, realization spreading across his face. "That's a flask full of Elena's tears."
"What?" Stefan asked blankly.
"I'VE BEEN DRINKING ELENA'S TEARS. There. The secret's out. Now let me go, little brother, before I call Sage again."
Stefan looked into Damon's eyes again and searched for the truth in them, but he felt like Damon was still hiding something from him. "I don't believe you!" he told his brother. "Why do you always lie to me, Damon?"
"I'm not lying!"
"Why in the world would you be drinking my lovely love's tears? That makes no sense at all, Damon, you're lying."
"You think I could make something like this up?" Damon demanded, starting to back away from Stefan slowly. "Because I really did not."
Stefan shook his head in frustration. "Secrets and lies, that's how we grew up… you're a natural. Lucky for me I can see through your stupid, thin, ugly façades, and I demand the truth of you, brother."
SAGE, Damon screamed out telepathically. Stefan was distracted, looking around for the other vampire, and somehow Damon ran away, this time using his superspeed.
Stefan clenched his fists. "I will get you," he vowed. "I will uncover the truth to your fiendish lies."
That night, Stefan crept quietly down the street, all his sense running on high power to detect his brother. He could feel him– he was growing closer.
In Stefan's right hand there was a freshly polished stake; in the other, there was jar that held large amounts of vervain, which was extremely harmful to vampires. Stefan also had another advantage: he'd found out that if a vampire ate the heart or a purebred witch, they could compel even other vampires. Knowing that compulsion was necessary for the task he needed to complete, he'd found such a witch and done what he needed to do.
He licked a bit of stray blood from his lips, briefly mourning poor old Mrs. Flowers. "Oh well," he told himself. "The cause justifies the means."
The cause justifies the means when it comes
To my dear old Mrs. Flowers
Her untimely death was because
I need to Influence Damon
Stefan frowned, thinking over those lines of poetry and mentally throwing them away. They didn't even rhyme. He tried to think of a new way to phrase that story but was distracted by the sudden feeling of closeness he felt to Damon. He was close. Very close.
Stefan looked up at the house he'd approached. It was Damon's mansion. Stefan almost felt stupid for not looking there first, but ignored the feeling and hopped the fence and walked down the lovely, manicured lawn to the side of the house. Damon was upstairs, in his bedroom. He could feel it.
Stefan had been in the house before and didn't need invited inside. He climbed the delicate trellis on the wall and pressed his face against the upstairs window. Someone was in there, and he knew it was Damon. Stefan took his stake and slowly, quietly hit it against the window, trying to break the glass noiselessly. It didn't work, so he put more force in to it, and the glass shattered everywhere in a satisfying manner.
As he propelled himself inside, he noted that Damon was lying in a large black bed. He wasn't alone. Stefan was appalled to see that Bonnie was curled up by his side, what was clearly a vampire bite on her neck.
So. Yet another secret: Damon and Bonnie were seeing each other. And Damon hadn't even bothered to tell his own brother. The very thought made Stefan stomp in anger, and Damon sat up, instantly alert. Vampires didn't stay drunk long, and the effects of his earlier intoxication seemed to have worn off.
"Stefan," Damon said cautiously. "Hi."
"Hello, my brother Damon, how may I torture you today?"
Stefan smiled at the end of that, pretending to be someone at a Customer Service Desk instead of a potential murderer.
"Uh, not at all?" Damon said, taking in Stefan's stake and jar of vervain with a worried look on his face. He angled himself so that he was farther from Stefan and closer to Bonnie, ready for an attack.
"Was that a question, Damon? Because the answer is you're wrong. You're very, very much in the wrong as well, so I feel completely justified to do what I am about to do."
Damon leapt to his feet, obviously expecting Stefan to jump at him again, like he had earlier, but instead Stefan just looked him directly in the eyes and focused all his Power into his next words. "Damon, sit down."
Damon sat down.
In the end, Mrs. Flowers had a reason to die
Her heart gave me Powers to get truth out of a lie
In the end, Damon really stood no chance
When he put up a defense to this devil's dance
Now that was a good one, Stefan thought, and since he didn't have a pen to write it with, he took his stake and began engraving it in Damon's arm. A memento of this wonderful night for Damon to keep forever– if he lived, that is.
"Damon, don't cringe, it can't hurt that much."
When he was done, Stefan pushed Damon onto his back and held him down for a moment, gazing into those black-on-black eyes that had tormented and tricked him for so many, many years.
"Damon, tell me: what is in your real hipflask?"
Stefan had actually kept the old one, chasing Mrs. Flowers's heart with Elena's tears. They had tasted good, like salty, pure love. But he had come to the conclusion that that was not the real hipflask, because it was nearly full and Damon had been drinking out of his a lot. The old thing had tried to trick Stefan.
"Elena's tears are in my hipflask," Damon replied. Next to them, Bonnie stirred. Stefan glared at her, wondering if eating her heart would make him even more powerful.
"Damon, please, stop lying to me. What is in your hipflask?"
"Elena's tears."
"ARRGGGH!" Stefan yelled in frustration. "STOP HIDING THE SECRETS I SEEK!" He grabbed his jar of vervain and started rubbing it all over Damon's skin, who screamed. All the yelling made Bonnie wake up.
She saw Stefan, then Damon, and then Stefan hurting Damon, and she screamed too. "SHUT UP!" Stefan yelled at her. "Damon, stop screaming! Bonnie, if you're not quiet, I'm going rip open your chest and eat your heart!"
The screaming stopped.
"Now, Damon, answer me truthfully– yes, truthfully, I command you, I compel you to answer me truthfully: what is in your secret hipflask?"
Breathing hard and sweating violently because of the vervain's effects, Damon answered, "Elena's tears."
"WHY IS IT NOT WORKING!" Stefan screamed. "WHY WON'T YOU TELL ME THE TRUTH? IS MY INFLUENCE NOT POWERFUL ENOUGH!"
"What's going on?" Bonnie asked, drawing Stefan's attention to her at the worst possible moment.
Poor Bonnie had never done a mean thing in her life. She was a good, sweet person. But Stefan needed to get the truth out of his brother, and obviously one witch's heart was not enough. Quickly and efficiently, he ripped out her heart, felt it beating feebly in his hand. Then he ate it. It made him feel powerful and reassured. But he also felt slightly guilty, so he kissed Bonnie's forehead sadly and closed her eyes.
There. Now she could be sleeping, if it weren't for the whole in her chest.
"Collateral damage," Stefan told himself, and he turned back to Damon, who was staring at the ceiling, trance-like. "Damon, I know you have many secrets. I know you've told me many lies. But I am giving you a change now to make up for it all, if you'll only tell me what was in that hipflask."
"Which hipflask?" Damon asked.
"AH-HA!" Stefan said triumphantly. "So there's more than one! I knew it!"
"I have two," Damon said. "I keep one downstairs in my cabinet. It's full of Katherine's hairs. The other one I try to keep on me at all times; it's full of Elena's tears."
LIAR LIAR LIAR
MY BROTHER IS A LIAR
DIE DIE DIE
MY BROTHER MUST DIE
The injustice of it all made Stefan grab his stake and hold it above Damon's heart. "I'm so very sorry, Damon," he said. "But I gave you your chances. Many."
And then Damon was dead.
The next day was sunny, and Stefan caressed the lapis lazuli ring that was on his finger, glad he was alive and not dead like his brother. Elena was crying on his shoulder, and Stefan caressed her, too, trying to ease the pain of her double loss. Or triple loss, really, if you counted Bonnie, but did anyone ever really count Bonnie?
Elena didn't know that Stefan had killed Damon and Mrs. Flowers, and he wasn't going to tell her. He was continuing on Damon's legacy of lies and secrets. Hypocritical, you might say, but if no one knew, like Stefan had known that Damon was lying, then it wasn't really a problem.
Stefan had buried Damon and engraved a stone for him, then found Elena to break the horrible news: a vampire slayer had broken into his mansion the night before and killed Damon and Bonnie, and then made there way onto the boarding house to kill Mrs. Flowers, who was also a vampire (they just hadn't known).
Right now Elena and Stefan were standing over Damon's grave, which had a poem on it, a memory poem by Stefan that told the whole story:
One day I was standing in the rain with a man
A terrible secret he had, and I had a plan
I took him to some bars to intoxicate his mind
Not having an inkling of what I would soon find
He was a vampire, as I soon discovered
And had a hipflask
That he kept a secret from his brother
Wearing an evasive mask
But as drunk as the vampire got
Reveal his secret he would not
And I got so very very mad
That I had to kill him, so sad
At his huge, big house that night
I killed him and a girl
Being a vampire too, I took a bite
To think, this started because of a squirrel
Or lack of one.
Stefan wiped Elena's tears away from her face and brought them to his mouth, savoring the taste and wondering if, just maybe, Damon had been telling the truth.
THE END