a/n: Did you know that Vampire Diaries was a book first, before it became a TV show? I mean, Holy Crap! I found these VD books just a few days ago, and I was shocked because VD was a new show and there were already at least a dozen books out. How cool is it that they already had that many books out with a show that new. But when I started to read them, there were differences so I naturally checked the date it was published; 1991, it said. And I was kind of confused at first because in my head I was like: "How in the hell could the have written a book of the show in 2005 when it wasn't even made then." brain fart, I know, right? But then my brain got smart again and I figured that they made the TV series from the books, and it's a cool series; even though I missed most of the first season. The author of the books was L.J Smith, now I don't know if he's the original creator of The Vampire Diaries, but the books were awesome. I finished three of his books, almost six-hundred pages each in the span of four days. I don't know how, but I just couldn't put it down. It was like an addiction, one taste and I was hooked! All through class I read instead of doing work and I didn't even get caught.

One the bus ride home I read and just as I got to my stop, I thought that it would be the perfect place for Stefan to confess what he really felt for Damon. Spoilers for THE VAMPIRE DIARIES: DARK REUNION VOL. ll. AU.

note: I made some changes to the text from the book, making it so that it wasn't in Bonnies PoV. So some things will be missing or sentences might have some slight variations to them. You have been warned.

Pg. 478-482?

Truths Confessed

So far, Stefan and Klaus had been trading blows with such violence and accuracy that it had been like a beautiful, lethal dance. But it had been an equal, or almost equal, match. Stefan had been holding his own.

Stefan was bearing down with his white ash lance, pressing Klaus to his knees, forcing him backward, farther and farther back, like a limbo dancer seeing just how low he could go. Klaus's mouth was slightly open, staring up at Stefan with astonishment and fear.

Then everything changed.

At the very bottom of his descent, when Klaus had bent back as far as he could go, when it seemed he must be about to collapse or break, something happened.

Klaus smiled.

And then he started pushing back.

Stefan's muscles knotted, his arms went rigid, trying to resist. But Klaus, still grinning madly, eyes wide open, just kept coming. He unfolded like some terrible jack-in-the-box, only slowly. Slowly. Inexorably. His grin getting wider until it looked as if it would split his face. Like a Cheshire cat.

A cat with a mouse.

Now Stefan was the one grunting and straining, teeth clenched, trying to hold Klaus off. But Klaus and his stick bore down, forcing Stefan backward, forcing him to the ground.

Grinning all the time.

Until Stefan was lying on his back, his own stick pressing into his throat with the weight of Klaus's lance across it. Klaus looked down at him and beamed. "I'm tired of playing, little boy," he said, and he straightened and threw his own stick down. "Now, it's dying time."

He took Stefan's staff away from him easily as if he were taking it from a child. Picked it up with the flick of his wrist and broke it over his knee, showing how strong he had always been. How cruelly he had been playing with Stefan.

One of the halves of the white ash stick he tossed over his shoulder across the clearing. The other he jabbed at Stefan. Using no the pointed end but the splintered one, broken into a dozen tiny points. He jabbed down with a force that seemed almost casual, but Stefan screamed. He did it again and again, eliciting a scream each time.

White ash might be the only deadly wood to Klaus, but any wood was deadly to Stefan. Stefan was, if not now, about to die. Klaus, with his hand now raised, was going to finish it with one more plunging blow. Klaus's face was tilted to the moon in a grin of obscene pleasure, showing that *this* was what he liked, where he got his thrills. From killing.

Klaus flourished the splintered stake and with a smile of pure ecstasy started to bring it down.

And a spear hand shot across the clearing and stuck him in the middle of the back, landing an quivering like a giant arrow. It made Klaus's arms fling out, dropping the stake; it shocked the ecstatic grin right off his face. He stood; arms extended, for a second, and then turned, the white ash stick in his back wobbling slightly.

The voice was clear as it rang out, cold and arrogant and filled with absolute conviction. Just five words, "Get away from my brother."

Klaus screamed, a scream that sounded like an ancient predator, of a saber tooth cat and a bull mammoth. Blood frothed out of his mouth along with the scream, turning that handsome face into a twisted mask of fury.

His hands scrambled at his back, trying to get a grip on the white ash stake and pull it out. But it was buried to deep. The throw was a good one.

"Damon," Stefan whispered, his voice hoarse from the screams.

He was standing on the edge of the clearing, framed by oak trees. he took a step towards Klaus, and then another; lithe stalking steps filled with deadly purpose. And he was angry, going by the look on his face; such menace barely held in check.

"Get . . . away . . . from my brother," he said, almost breathing it, with his eyes never leaving Klaus's as he took another step.

Klaus screamed again, but his hand stopped their frantic scrambling. "You idiot! We don't have to fight! I told you that at the house! We can ignore each other!"

Damon's voice was no louder than before. "Get away from my brother." he could feel it inside of himself, a swell of Power like a tsunami. He continued, so softly that you had to strain to hear him, "Before I tear you heart out."

"I told you!" screamed Klaus, frothing. Damon didn't acknowledge the words in any way. His whole being seemed focused on Klaus's throat, on his chest, on the beating heart inside that he was going to tear out.

Klaus picked up the unbroken lance and rushed him.

In spite of all the blood, the blond man seemed to have plenty of strength left. The rush was sudden, violent, and almost inescapable. Klaus thrust the lance at Damon, and instant later a flurry of wings was heard. Klaus had plunged the right through the spot where Damon had been, and a black crow was soaring upward while a single feather floated down. Klaus's rush had taken him into the darkness beyond the clearing and he disappeared.

There was a flutter of wings that blurred and shimmered in the moonlight. Damon stood beside a seemingly unconscious Stefan. His eyes were back to there normal ice blue, his pupils blown in the darkness. That barely leashed violence, that since of ferocious energy held back, was gone. He knelt and touched the dark head on the ground.

"Stefan?"

;

;

Damon was scared, scared for Stefan. He couldn't take care of things, he didn't have a solution and Stefan was dying and he didn't think there was a thing he could do. He held Stefan's hand, looking completely unembarrassed about, and it seemed quite logical and sensible, seeing as there was no one around. He tried to send Power into Stefan, could feel it wasn't enough.

Damon stared at Stefan's face for a moment, his eyes were closed and his face was even paler then normal, "You need blood," he brought his free hand to his mouth, biting down, he drawing blood from the big vain in his wrist.

He held his wrist above Stefan's mouth and just as the few droplets fell, Stefan turned his head away. "No," his eyes were open now, open and alert and smoldering green. The red drops instead splattered against his cheek, mingling with the blood from the corner of his mouth.

"Don't be stupid," Damon said his voice hardening. He gripped Stefan's hand until his knuckles turned white.

Stefan gripped his hand back, turning back to face his brother. Damon looked at his brother, who was looking back, all that fierce, furious attention on Stefan as it had been focused on Klaus earlier. As if it would somehow help. Stefan stared back, just as focused. But as the minutes ticked by, a frustrated sigh escaped his lips and he averted his gaze; Damon let a quick smirk of triumph cross his face before he let it slip away.

"Fine," Stefan growled out; the only way to be left alone was to bend to Damon's will.

Damon put his wrist once again just inches from Stefan's lips. Stefan took a shuddering breath, the tip of his tongue ghosting across Damon's wrist as he licked his dry lips; his mouth exploded with moisture at the prospect of blood. Stefan drew his lip back, he could feel as his canines grew; his teeth sunk into the soft flesh.

By reflex, he started to suck. He could feel it start to flow through him, invading each cell of his body. He sucked harder; trying to get as much blood as possible before Damon took his hand away. His own shaking hands clutch Damon wrist weakly, his eyes sliding shut as warmth spread throughout him.

Finally feeling his stomach full, Stefan let go of Damon's wrist; his teeth retracting into a more human form. He gasped, breathing heavily, never letting Damon's hand go as he stared at the stars in the moon lit sky.

Stefan glanced at Damon who was still staring at him intently. Damon had come, Stefan thought breathlessly, he had actually come. But then something else came to mind, he didn't let Klaus kill me or was that just so that he could kill me later like he had always promised he would?

There was a sudden lump in his throat, and Stefan's eyes darted away from Damon's. He was going to die anyway, right?

"Did you know-" Stefan said, clearing his throat when nothing but a rasp escaped his. He tried again, "Did you know that I never really hated you? Not really," His eyes darted back to Damon's then away again.

Damon had narrowed his eyes in the slightest bit, but Stefan saw the difference, saw a spark of something flare in his ice blue eyes.

But he continued before he lost his nerve, "I only acted that way because it seemed like you wanted it, wanted me to hate you just as much as you hate me." he breaths were coming in slight gasps now, but he couldn't tell whether it was from anxiety or injury. "I could never love her more than I loved you, not ever. But you hated me, and despised me when I tried to be nice. But then that was the only way you would even look at me, but it was understandable. I killed mother, I killed Katherine, I even killed Elena; I've killed every person you ever loved, Damon." he whispered, not meeting his brothers eyes.

Stefan gave a chance glance at Damon and what ever color he had gained from the blood washed from his face. Damon was leaning over him, his face only inches from Stefan's. His eyes were wide, pupils just pinpricks circled by thunder Blue Ocean, his pale skin shone in the moon light while his hair and body seemed to disappear into the night. There was no arrogance, no humor just plain understanding.

Stefan was very confused.

He had never actually seen that look on Damon's face before, nothing to this caliber. Everything from hate to humor had made it's-self home on Damon's face, but never for the life of him had he seen understanding. It's what made his heart beat fast and his lungs burn.

"You think I loved them?" Damon asked quietly. "You don't know me as well as you think, little brother." he smirked then, that arrogant smirk that made Stefan want to scream. And Stefan was a quit guy, so that was saying a lot.

"Apparently not," Stefan whispered turning his head away; he was still confused by what he meant. You think I loved them?

Damon put his finger under Stefan's chin, turning it back to face him. Stefan didn't resist them, though he averted his eyes.

"Stefan," Damon growled; Stefan made eye contact. He couldn't help it, it was like a stupid reflex. "Don't you get it?" Damon asked; Stefan just stared. Damon looked exasperated, "The only reason why I even looked a Katherine or Elena, was because you did."

This time, Stefan did meet his eyes, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"That means," Damon shrugged, "That I only 'loved' what you did; it was the only way I could get close without you get suspicious."

"Suspicious of what?" Stefan said suspiciously.

"My point exactly," Damon smirked condescendingly.

Stefan narrowed his green eyes, "What is your point exactly, Damon?"

"My point," Damon chuckled, "Is this," He swiftly ducked his head, crushing his lips to Stefan's.

Stefan's eyes widened, he opened his mouth to, and he had no idea what but that just made Damon deepen the kiss. His eye slid closed. I have to be hallucinating, Stefan thought as his lips moved with Damon's.

But, Stefan countered, this is just too crazy to imagine.

note: Thanks for reading; please review. I wasn't going to make it slash at first- okay, I lied. But how do you expect me to resist a pairing like that.