Fratelli by asesina
Disclaimer: I don't own TVD!
a/n: inspired by the ending of the most recent episode and the preview for next week. This is just a brief little scene with the Salvatores.
I hope you like it!
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Stefan Salvatore made his way up the long, winding staircase that led to the second floor of the family mansion. He walked with slow, deliberate steps, eschewing the use of his vampire speed as he gingerly stepped over the pools of blood that were left over from that afternoon's blood binge.
A dark smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he remembered the girls, eyes glazed-over and obedient, even as they pleaded and begged for their lives.
He could still taste their blood on the tip of his tongue. It was sweet and heavy with just a hint of tequila and Mike's Hard Lemonade. They were certainly delectable, but they were nothing compared to Elena Gilbert.
Stefan knew that Elena had also left for the night, but he could still feel her. The house reverberated with her mortal energy, simultaneously weak and mind-bendingly powerful, and the duality of it all mesmerized Stefan.
When he reached his bedroom, Stefan paused for a moment. He thought of the dozens of times when he and Elena had crossed the threshold into his private space, into their private space.
He quickly shook the thought away and reached down to open the door.
Stefan stopped when he heard a faint noise from the downstairs hallway.
It almost sounded like someone was trying to break in. Stefan scoffed at the idea of some poor sap trying to rob a house full of ancient vampires.
Stefan turned back to his bedroom but then, sure enough, he heard another noise. This time, Stefan was definitely sure that he was hearing some kind of a struggle, or perhaps a petulant brother breaking his priceless vases and art.
"Damon, cut it out!" Stefan said angrily.
"We both know that this is my house, so stop treating it like your own stomping grounds!" Stefan added, letting the exasperation seep into his voice.
When he didn't receive a snarky response from hi s older brother, Stefan sighed and jogged down the stairs.
"What are you trying to prove, Damon? Trashing the foyer is hardly mature. I know that you're frustrated about Elena, but that is no reason to act like this," Stefan snarled.
Stefan looked around the dark foyer and was surprised to find that his brother was still missing in action.
"All right, that's enough, Damon. I'm going back to sleep. Don't mind those blood puddles, they're just left over from the sorority girls," he added.
Stefan was about to go back upstairs when he heard a loud crash coming from the kitchen.
The sound that followed was almost enough to make him run to the other side of the house.
Someone was crying out in pain.
Damon.
"Damn it," Stefan muttered.
He heard another crash, followed by a gasp and his brother's shocked voice.
"Mason?"
Stefan ran to the kitchen and felt his heart drop. Mason Lockwood's hand was around his brother's throat, and the werewolf appeared to have a pretty strong grip for someone who was supposedly dead.
"Mason," Stefan growled.
"Stefan, get lost. I've got this under control," Damon hissed. His voice was hoarse and weak as he attempted to speak around the fingers that were firmly pressed on both sides of his esophagus.
"You heard him, Stefan. This is between me and Damon. I'll deal with you later, but now it's time for some much-needed revenge," Mason spat. He glared at Stefan and smirked as he lifted Damon a little higher off the floor. Only the tips of his toes brushed the tiles.
"Let him go," Stefan insisted. He felt the veins around his eyes become more pronounced as he stepped towards Mason and clenched a fist.
"You two bastards are still fighting as a team, huh? I thought that Klaus would have turned you against each other," Mason sneered.
" We aren't a team anymore, but you should get the hell out of here. Remember, it's still two against one," Stefan warned.
Mason shook his head in annoyance and loosened his grip on Damon.
"You know, this really isn't worth it. I'm coming back for Damon, though. You guys shouldn't let your guard down. Anyone could walk right in here," he said ominously. Stefan glared at the werewolf and waited until he heard Mason speed out of the house.
Stefan walked over to Damon and eyed him carefully.
"I can't believe you couldn't handle yourself against that bastard. How the hell is he still alive?" Stefan wondered aloud.
"I can't believe you actually helped me. You're not going soft, are you, Stefan?" Damon taunted. He smirked at the anger that flashed across his younger brother's face.
"No, and if he comes back, it's up to you to defend yourself," he retorted.
"Whatever you say, Stefan," Damon said quietly. He rubbed his neck to survey the damage that he had endured during the fight with Mason.
"He didn't bite you, did he?" Stefan asked softly.
"No, Stefan. You can stop pretending to care and go back to your bat cave now," Damon snapped.
"Damon," Stefan began.
Damon held up a hand in protest.
"Enough. I know where we stand, Stefan. No need to add to that," Damon said coolly.
Stefan turned away and made his way back to his room.
In a way, he was glad that he didn't voice the sentiment that had crossed his mind for a split second:
"It's because you're still my brother."
He thought that Damon wouldn't believe him, but Stefan would never know that Damon was thinking the exact same thing.
End.