A/N: Hey guys, this is a new Defan story that I recently came up with. It was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but I wrote it out to be too long, so instead I decide for it to be a short story with about five chapters. Basically Stefan is 17 and Damon is in his twenties, has just graduated college and has started working his dream job as a doctor. When Stefan gets himself into trouble, Damon decides to step in, since their parents refuse to do so. I would appreciate your reviews and would love to know if you would like me to continue and finish this. Enjoy!

Damon's POV

I finally come home after a very long day at the hospital and toss away my scrubs on the couch, going straight for the kitchen and opening the fridge searching desperately for something to eat after a fourteen hour shift.

When I take out whatever's left of my pizza from last night and close the door, the picture hanging there catches my attention and I sigh hard. It's been a while since I heard something from the seventeen-year-old boy smiling in my direction, wearing proudly his football jersey with the number 44 on his chest and a ball under his arm.

Stefan. My little brother. God I missed him.

Without hesitation, I pick up the phone and dial my parent's home number. I've been living in Whitmore for more than a year now and I just finished my internship. Much to my parents approval I began the residency a few weeks back and they came by to see me and have dinner with me. Unfortunately without Stefan, who was God knows where.

I loved my parents, I really did. My father was a partner in this big IT technology company and my mother mostly did charity things, but she used to be a teacher before. I had everything I could ask for when I was a kid-we weren't awfully rich, but we had enough money to live in a house that is probably ten times bigger than my apartment. We had our own personal cook, I grew up with a nanny, even though my mother loved spending as much time with me as she could and when the time came my father decided that I have to study in a private school if I ever want to get into a good college and become a doctor, which has always been my dream and it was something they supported.

My childhood was happy, though a little lonely until Stefan came along. It was clear that my father never wanted another child-he already had a son, a good one and he loved to praise me, I had my mother's unconditional love and a house full of toys. And then we found out that my mother is pregnant again. Seven years after she had me. Nobody expected it and the news surprised us all-almost everyone's reaction was bad, and I couldn't understand why. I was extremely happy for I would never be alone anymore.

When they first brought Stefan home, I remember thinking how he is the tiniest baby in the whole world. He didn't cry at all and he was rarely fussy. He was calm and obedient or well…as much as babies can be obedient and I remember often going to his nursery, picking him up and rocking him in the chair-he wouldn't make a peep, but he would open his big beautiful green eyes and I would talk to him until he fell back to sleep.

I mostly did that, not only because I was a curious little boy who loved his brother, but also, because nobody else seemed to be paying such attention to Stefan. I couldn't understand my parent's reaction-father held him in the hospital for about a minute before he gave him back to the nurse, in which time he furrowed his eyebrows and looked at him as if something's very wrong and my mom stopped breastfeeding him a few weeks after she was discharged. She has left him mostly to the care of my old nanny Emily, who's been both good and stern with me when she needed to. She seemed to be the only one besides me who felt that Stefan is left behind and I've often noticed her talking to him how beautiful he is, or hugging him and kissing his forehead because there was no one else to do that.

My parents continued threating Stefan like he was a part of someone else's family as we grew up. I can't remember hearing my father say a good word about him or my mother showing him much affection. Their attitude towards me hasn't changed though-they loved me the same way and that hurt my little brother very much. It hurt me too, because I hated seeing him being sad all the time.

I kept trying to change things-I would go to my father and tell him that Stefan did an amazing job at something or that he just got an A on his last final, but all I would get from my dad would be a loud grunt as if he was complaining about me telling him all the great stuff his youngest son did.

Me and Stefan were inseparable though, even if we fought sometimes, mainly because of our parents and their disapproval towards him, but we were together all the time and yes, he was the annoying little brother at first, but as we grew up he also became my best friend, someone, I could tell everything to.

He was the only one who understood the pressure my father put on me, he was the only one who realized how hard it is to please Giuseppe Salvatore-I had to be perfect, at everything, there weren't mistakes allowed.

He often reminded me what a bright future I have ahead of me and every time I wished to just live like a normal teen and go to parties or get drunk and fool around, I was reminded of the importance of my education. For Stefan, it was even worse, because no matter what he did, it was just never enough.

So at some point, he just stopped worrying. When he began his freshman year, he started getting problematic. He would skip school all the time, he wouldn't listen to mother and father and would go to parties every week, he got home after midnight and he had the worst grades. He was extremely smart and he was better than me in so many subjects that I've struggled through, but no matter what I said and what he did, my parents wouldn't hear it. And that resulted in his complete destroying.

My father wanted him to become a doctor as well and he would constantly compare us and rub it in Stefan's nose how great I was at everything when I was his age. He wanted him to have the perfect grades and take AP classes.

And then one day Stefan just got too tired of it all and he stopped trying to do anything. He stopped studying, he started hanging out with the wrong people, he would get drunk, and he completely forgot all about father's aspirations for him becoming a doctor. He got into the football team and it turned out he was surprisingly great at it. I went to his games whenever I could and besides Emily, I was the only one to care about him.

When father heard about his athletic success he just waved his hand and said that sports is for lazy people which only made Stefan get drunk for the first time at fifteen. I was there to live it through with him. Despite my parent's disapproval, I was very happy for him and the more I watched him play, the more I realized how great he actually is at this-he had talent for it, he did amazing things on the field and he always made the crowd go wide-he was going to be a great player some day and even the scouts who came to see him, knew it.

I started getting invested in those stuff, I knew that mother and father don't care, but he could actually win a scholarship and get into some great college. I had faith in him and I tried showing him how much I support him. He was still fine back then. I mean yes, he went out and partied, he was flirty with all girls and he was extremely sarcastic, which was his way for covering his pain, but he was fine.

Now, he wasn't.

After I finally pressed the green button and heard the familiar signal on the other side, my mother picked up.

"Damon, honey, hello!" she said as if I just magically saved someone with a phone call. I loved my mother, I really did, but I couldn't understand why she could never love my brother the same way "How is it going? How is the residency? Are you doing fine? How about Bonnie, she there with you? I would love to hear from her?"

"Hey, mom" I laughed at all her questions, but I kept staring at the photo on the fridge where a blond fella was smiling in my direction. "Everything's alright and no, Bonnie had to work a nightshift this evening, so she's not with me" I explained, grateful that my girlfriend wasn't here as I knew mom wouldn't let her be for forty minutes if I give her the phone "How are things with you? How's Stefan?" I ask right away before she can indulge me into some boring conversation about a charity event.

I expect her to start complaining of him right away, but instead she gets extremely silent and I move away from the fridge and pull up the chair so I can sit down, sensing that things are not going in a great direction

"Mom, what's wrong?" I ask again and she clears her throat from the other end, but I've obviously hurt her with my question "Is he alright?"

"Your brother is not here" she announces and I lean on the table nervously.

"How do you mean he's not there, he lives in our home?" I say and I hear her tired sight, her voice is cold which is her way of trying to hide all emotions. Stefan is seventeen years old where else could he be? "Mom?" I ask again when she refuses to give me a proper response

"He came home the other night, late after midnight. He obviously tripped over something and broke some stuff in the hallway, which woke us up" she finally starts explaining and I squeeze my eyes imagining Stefan like this. "When we went downstairs and saw him your father got really mad."

"Why?" I ask confused

"Because he was high, Damon." she lets out too fast, because she is ashamed to say it out loud and I bury my hand in my hair.

No, no, no this can't be happening. Not to Stefan. He could get drunk, but drugs? Come on.

"He was high and he was drunk, his eyes were bloody and he was talking things that didn't make any sense whatsoever. Your father and he got into a really big fight and …your dad threw him out."

"He did what now?" I raise my voice right away and stand up without even realizing what I'm doing "Mother! What the hell is wrong with you guys, he is seventeen!"

"Damon, would you keep your voice down!" she scolds me, but I can't calm down

"Where is he now?" I ask, ignoring her disapproving of my attitude. What kind of parents were they? How could they throw him out like this? He is still a minor, a child, he had nowhere to go!

"I don't know, but your father froze his credit card and he is probably running out of money so he'll come back soon" she tries to calm me down, but this is not how they should be thinking. Their kid is out there and he's doing God knows what. How are they not freaking out and trying to find him! "You don't have to worry."

"Mom, I can't believe you right now!" I let out my frustration even though I love her, it doesn't mean I agree with her on this. "He is seventeen! He needs your help, not you kicking him out! How could you allow this?"

"It's your father's choice and you know well enough that I can't change his mind once he's stubbornly decided something. You are blaming me, Damon, but your brother really hurt us. He is disgracing the family's name and he has been repeatedly making fun of us. He doesn't go to school anymore, he doesn't want to study, he has been coming home drunk for the past month and he's not listening to a word any of us are saying! I tried talking to him! I tried telling him that he has to go back to the way he used to be before all this madness started!"

"Mom, what do you want from him? He just lost everything he ever dreamed of!" I say this time trying to be calm. I knew far too well that I couldn't change my parent's mind. They had a certain view on life. They wanted their kids to be perfect, to study hard and become a respected members of the society. My brother was just trying to be himself and they hated him for it.

I look at the photo on the fridge once again and feel the heavy feeling on my chest come back.

Stefan was having a really hard time right now. About two months ago he got in an accident. After a big game with his team, he went to this party to celebrate. He was having the time of his life, but when he has finally decided that it's late and it's time to go home, there was no one to drive him. All his friends were drunk, having sex or collapsed somewhere and he knew that he has to come back home, because our father has put up an ultimatum for him and told him he'll stop giving him any money and move him to another school if he doesn't get his grades back to what they were and starts coming home on time. So he was late and he was in a hurry and he decided to walk. It wasn't such a long distance, just a few blocks, it couldn't take him more than twenty minutes.

But he never ended up back home.

When he was crossing the street, he got hit by some guy in a jeep, who was dead drunk. It turned out that he was some college boy, who was trying to get home from a party, just like Stefan.

He hit my brother and completely destroyed him and his life. They've stabilized him by the time I got to the hospital and they were preparing him for a surgery, but it turned out that his whole arm is completely crashed into pieces and they said he won't be able to play football anymore. I was just happy to have him back with me, I was so scared that I'll lose him.

My parents really broke both his and my heart for yet another time that day-when my father heard that he's fine, he went back home right away, saying that he has an important business call to make and my mom stayed with me in the hospital. She was worried, I could see that, but when she was also mad.

When Stefan finally came back to his senses and opened his eyes, I leaned down and picked him up in my embrace-he was alive. He almost died, but he was here, I couldn't have been happier. My mother was somewhere behind me. When she looked at him and he was all broken in the literal sense and devastated in the psychological one, she came closer and said that none of this would've happened had he listened to them.

Stefan almost started crying. Then he asked us to leave him alone.

He's been troublesome ever since. He closed himself for the world. He wouldn't talk to me, wouldn't listen to a word I have to say. He got himself discharged about five days later, even though he had serious injuries and was supposed to stay longer.

I just went there one day and he was gone. He wouldn't want to listen or agree to any of the things I suggested-he had to get another surgery for his arm so he wouldn't be in so much pain, he had to go to rehabilitation. He just looked at me and said he's fine, forgetting the fact that I was a doctor and I knew he wasn't fine.

"This is not what he dreamt of! He was just putting up a fight and now he's ruining his life!" she argued with me and I rubbed my forehead tiredly. I knew far too well that we can continue this fight for a few more hours and we would still be nowhere.

"Do you know where he is?" I asked and she sighs on the other side

"I have no idea, but he's probably staying with his friend Tyler. You're not going to look for him, are you, Damon?" she asks and before I even get the chance to respond she continues "He needs to learn a lesson!"

"No, what he needs is someone to help him, mom. He hit rock bottom, someone has to help him get out of there!"

We soon hang up and I don't waste any time before tossing a sweater on and grabbing my phone and my car keys, leaving a message for Bonnie as I get out and run to my truck in the parking lot. I had to find him.

It takes me half an hour to get to Mystic Falls. Finding Tyler's place wasn't hard-they owned the biggest house in town as they were the richest people there. I never liked that family and Stefan hanging out with Tyler couldn't have been good. He had the reputation of the bad boy with the greatest parties, so of course by the time I parked in front of their house, I was certain that this evening was no different. Loud music was blasting through the opened windows, naked girls near the pool, guys drinking beer and smoking pot and somewhere on the second floor, most probably, horny teens making sex-something which I was hoping to avoid tonight.

It was still crowded even if it was after midnight and I barely manage to make my way through a bunch of people in the living room.

"Hey, do you know where Stefan Salvatore is?" I ask some guy who looks like a pothead and he laughs in my direction as he takes a sip from his beer

"Nice jacket, dude" he says as he throws me a mocking glance "But don't you think you're a bit too old to be here?"

"Stefan Salvatore" I say as I grip his shirt and pull him closer to my face. I'm too tired to deal with this now, I've been lacking sleep "Now."

"I-I think he's getting drunk in the kitchen" he stutters and raises his hands defensively. I let go of him and start moving to the kitchen where once upon a time, as kids me, Stefan and the other rich and important town folk's kids would fool around and play hide and seek.

When I get there and see everything that's going on before me, I realize that this place is hardly the picture of innocence. There is a big table where guys have gathered around, accompanied by girls in bikinies. They were yelling, obviously playing some game and hitting their fists in the table. I start going next to each and every one of them, because it's dark and I can't see their faces good. They all complain with a grunt and yell back at me but I don't even pay attention. I'm too worried that I can't find my brother. Finally I recognize Tyler's gelled hair, which was as sparkling as his ego was and pull him back by the sweater

"Woah, what the hell is going on?" he asks and when he sees who I am his eyes go wide and he realizes he's in trouble "Damon? What are you doing here?"

"My brother" I yell out because the music is too damn loud "Where is he?" Tyler shrugs his shoulder, but I know he's just covering for Stefan, so I pull him off his chair and shake him up a bit "I want you to give me Stefan's exact location in less than five seconds or I'll call the police and then your parents and then I'll probably kick your sorry ass and make sure you get expelled from school."

"He-he should be right over there." Tyler says and nods at the far right corner of the room where I can see a small table. I give Tyler an angry look and let him go, wondering why shouldn't I just go back and kick his sorry ass, I have more important things to worry about though, so I try to focus on finding my brother.

I rush to the table as fast as I can without killing someone on my way and when I get there, I finally see him.

He doesn't see me though.

He can't see me, because he's bend over the table and he's snorting cocaine. I can't believe my eyes. I can't believe that this is Stefan and most of all, I can't believe that when he finally pulls back and looks at me with his bloody eyes he laughs out loud.

"Oh, damn, this thing is really good, guys, I think I'm hallucinating my brother" the guys next to him laugh alongside with him and I realize that he really must be thinking this isn't real.

He is worse than when I last saw him in the hospital a month ago. He's lost weight and his completely broken and shattered arm is hanging in an unnatural way from his shoulder. There were no bandages or any cast left, he must've taken it all himself, but he was surely in pain.

Maybe that's why he was taking the drugs. Or who was I kidding-he was ruining himself on purpose, this wasn't about pain.

"Stefan" I say his name as if I can't believe that this is really him. He's dressed in his old football jacket and some washed out jeans. He doesn't look like the son of the well-known and respected Giuseppe Salvatore. He looks like the abandoned child he always has been.

"Damn, he talks too" Stefan says confused with his hoarse voice and then shrugs as he picks up the beer next to him and then takes a big sip. I'm too stunned to believe that this is true. I always thought that mom was exaggerating about him getting high but she obviously wasn't-he really was taking drugs.

Things really angered me when I saw him bending down to snort another line, which is when I got next to him and grabbed his collar a bit roughly, but now mom was right-he needed to be shaken up a bit.

"Stefan, come on" I say and he looks at me confused, he really can't believe I'm here

"Damon?" he asks surprised" What the hell, I thought I was…Is this really you?"

"If you weren't so high in the sky you would've remembered how your big brother looks! Now come on, we're leaving" I say and start pulling him towards the entrance

"No, no way. I'm not going anywhere" he surprisingly pulls back and gets away from my tight grip "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question" I say angrily "Though, actually, I can see what you're doing-you're destroying yourself. You're coming with me."

"No, I'm not. I don't want to go anywhere with you" he pushes me away with his healthy hand and I furrow my eyebrows. He was aggressive. For some reason he wanted me gone. Maybe because he was sure I will spoil his perfect party. He leans down to garb the beer from the table again, but I yank it off his hand and the bottle crashes on the floor, not that anyone notices as the music is too loud.

"Listen to me" I begin again "I talked to mom, I know that dad kicked you out, but it will be fine. I'll take you with me to Whitmore for a few days, then we'll come back, I'll talk to him and he'll forgive you."

"I don't want him to forgive me and I certainly don't want to go back to that goddamn house" Stefan protests "So leave me the fuck alone. I don't need your help."

"Stefan, come on, just come with me, we'll talk and you'll crash at my place" I try to reason with him, but he doesn't even pay any attention to me, he waves his hand, yells something at me and sits back down on the table, stretching out and trying to get to another bottle with his healthy hand. I noticed he barely used his right one, it was still hanging unnaturally to his right side and I noticed he can't bent it at all.

"Okay, then we'll have to do this the hard way" I say to myself as I come by his side again, grab his collar, pull him up and start leading him outside. It was a hard fight, he was trying to get away, but I twisted his healthy hand behind his back and even though I hated causing him more pain, it was the only way to get him out of here. He wasn't as strong because he was drunk and high so that was in my advantage.

He kept cursing and when we were finally outside and I let him go he turned around angrily

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Damon?" he yells at me, but I won't have any of his shit

"Get in the truck, right now!" I order and he shakes his head "Don't make me call the police and make them get you behind bars for the evening, because trust me you are not going back in this damn house, so I suggest you get in the truck." he stares at me for a moment and when he figures I'm serious, he angrily opens the door and jumps in. I follow right behind him and I can practically breathe the anger in the damn truck as I start the engine-he's furious even if he's high.

"You don't" he starts but I raise my hand

"We'll talk when we get home!" I say sternly and he grumpily looks away and stares through the window. He knows he's in trouble. He might not care about what dad or mom have to say, but he respects me and when he sees me this mad, he knows he is in trouble. I hoped I wasn't too late.

We get back faster than I thought and I'm glad because I can't stand the silence in the car anymore. When we get inside, he surprises me by slowly staggering to the kitchen. He takes out one of my own beers and I manage to catch him before he's even tried unscrewing it.

"Are you for real right now?" I say and he laughs in my direction "You just love pissing me off, don't you, Stefan?" I ask and he shrugs as I pour the beer down the drain and he gives me a sad look "Sit down, right now" I say and he complies, but he's not at all giving a shit about what I have to say. He doesn't care about it-he's hiding behind his perfect mask of sarcasm and indifference and he thinks he'll get away with it, but I know better.

"Okay, I'm extremely pissed off at you right now and I want to kick your ass till you can no longer spell your name, but since I am the older one I'll give you a chance of explaining to me what is wrong? I bet our parents didn't even consider asking you that question when they kicked you out." he tiredly runs his fingers through his hair and shrugs casually before answering me

"I don't know what you mean, Damon" he responds with his hoarse voice "Everything's going great. I'm having the time of my life."

"You are doing drugs! You are drinking! You are not going at all to school!" I list all the things that are currently the biggest problem

"School is boring" he says carelessly just like before and leans on the chair, grabbing his broken arm with his healthy hand and swallowing hard, something which I notice "I just don't see a point in it."

"You're going to get expelled. Do you realize what you're doing here? You're ruining your entire future over what? Partying with Tyler Lockwood? What the hell is the issue here, Stefan, come on, I am on your side, talk to me! I told you I'll help you convince father that-"

"Nice couch you have over there" he comments instead "I bet it's great to have sex on. Speaking of that, how's that girl you're dating? She was hot, right?" he doesn't pay any attention to my words at all and I angrily run my hands through my hair-he's high and he's crushed, this is just him acting out

"Stefan, I am being serious here. What the hell were you thinking doing drugs?"

"What? As if you weren't getting high when you were in college? Quit judging, brother."

"I wasn't getting high and it's not like you were smoking weed, you were fucking snorting cocaine here. What else have you been taking, huh?" I ask and he grunts annoyed as he stands up and goes by the fridge, taking out another beer.

This time I don't stop him, I just want to get something out of him, so I let him take a sip even if it's just almost the last straw. I knew that he was protecting himself, so I had to provoke him and make him talk somehow

"Damn, you need to get yourself better beer, brother" he responds instead, against ignoring my comment

That was it. I didn't have the strength to deal with him like that. I come by and try taking away the bottle, but this time he's faster and pulls back. I try again and again and the closer I get the more he's stepping back. I grab his hand and he tries getting away, unsuccessfully. The whole thing turns into a really pathetic fight until I press him to the wall and hold him pinned with my arms pressed to his chest-this wasn't time for games.

"Talk to me!" I say again "Please for God's sake. You went through hell, you can't keep pretending that everything fine while you ruin yourself!" I raise my voice and something inside him finally switches, his eyes get darker and angrier and his face hardens

"What do you care? You haven't been around in months!"

"Stefan, come on, you know I've been working really hard. I'm here now, I want to help."

"Fuck you, Damon" he responds instead an pushes me away from him, he's finally ready to get it all out and I'm glad "You and your perfect life, with the perfect job and the perfect girlfriend and your amazing everything!" he yells "Why do you care, huh? What is it? Are you feeling guilty or something? Or did mom talk you into this? I don't want your fucking help, golden boy, I'm doing perfectly fine on my own."

"No, you're not, you're killing yourself!"

"So?" he asks and his question blows me away

"How can you say that?" I ask completely stunned-This is your life you're throwing away, Stefan!"

"And how is that any of your problem? You don't give a shit!" he's brutally honest "Mom doesn't give a shit and we all know that good old dad will just say that he's always expected this of me, so it's alright, Damon, really" he says back to being half sarcastic, but I grab his hand and I pull him back to me just when he's about to leave

"Stefan" I look him in the eyes and I say his name calmly now "I know that you're hurt. I know that you lost everything you dreamt of just because of some drunken college boy who crushed your entire arm into a thousand pieces. I also know that this is you acting out and that the drugs probably not only help you to piss our folks off, but they do a good job with the pain" I nod at his broken hand and he swallows hard, refusing to show me in any way that what I'm saying is true "Please, stay with me for a while. Let me help you, okay? You don't have to go back to mom right away, I'll talk to them."

He looks down at his feet and refuses to give me an answer

"I know you'll never admit that you need help, so I'll take just a squeeze or a nod as a yes right now" I add, because I know how proud he is. He never bothered anyone with his problems. Maybe that's because nobody ever wondered if he has any before. He doesn't move for a minute and my heart clenches with fear that he'll turn around and leave "Come on, brother, let me do this for you. You'll get rid of the drugs and the alcohol."

I let him take another minute or two before he finally looks up and gives me a slight nod. I want to hug him, but I know it's a bit early for that so instead I lead him to the living room and push him down the couch, then sit on the coffee table opposite of him.

He is different now, no longer sarcastic. He's finally showing me his true face and I realize that things are way worse than I thought-he's completely ruined and I can't even imagine what he's been taking, but it surely wasn't good for him.

"When was the last time you ate?" I ask and he shrugs

"Yesterday maybe" he responds with a shrug

"Idiot" I scold him lightly and get up to make him a sandwich. Ten minutes later I'm back and he's squeezing his eyes and holding his hand, which means he's hurting. I put down the plate and swallow hard-I hate that this happened to him.

"Let me see" I say as I reach gently for his hand and take it away from his hurting one. He doesn't want to let me see at first, but then I give him a pleading look and he gives up. I take off his jacket and when I see all the scars on his hand I get so angry that I want to kill the guy who did this to him, but I don't show him that, instead I start gently examining him and when I get to the elbow he yelps out in pain

"Goddammit, leave me alone" he says and when I hear his cry out I let him go

"If you've agreed to the surgery it would've been way better now. With rehab it wouldn't have hurt so much"

"Oh, God, you're using your doctor voice, please just stop" he begs as he lies down and keeps his hand closer to his chest, hugging it

"My doctor voice?" I ask confused and he nods "What do you mean my doctor voice?"

"When you get all serious and annoying."

"I'm just saying is all. I don't want you to be in pain."

"I'm not, now cut it off." he scolds me annoyed, but I feel good, because it's like we're kids again and we're teasing each other

"You're the worst liar, Stefan" I say with a sigh and I look down at him, feeling like I need to do something and protect him. "I will go take my stuff, I can make you this cold bandage that will ease the pain and-"

"No" he cuts me off, clearly annoyed with my brotherly love "I'm fine, I'm just tired" he lies again but I don't wanna hear it. I get to the kitchen and start looking for my medical supplies, but by the time I'm back, he's fallen asleep and he looks so devastatingly tired that I don't have the heart to wake him up.

I cover him with a blanket, making sure he's warm enough and he opens his eyes as I tuck him in.

"Hey, go to sleep, asshole" I joke and ruffle his hair "It will be all better tomorrow, I promise" I say and smile, but he's just staring at me very sad and that breaks my heart "I'll help you and things will get better, okay?" I say and he nods

I stand up and head to my room when I hear his weak voice call me out

"Damon" he says and when I turn I swear I can see the tears in his eyes even if there's barely any light coming from the windows. There's something wrong with the way he was behaving, apart from the rebelling against our parents part.

"Yes, brother?" I ask him and wait for him to finish his thoughts, but he just looks at me for a moment and then shakes his head

"It's nothing. Good night" he changes his mind and I decide not to pressure him anymore tonight. I nod and head back, hoping that tomorrow will be better.

Stefan's POV

I sleep for about an hour before I wake up again from someone leaving a message on Damon's answer machine. I rub my eyes before I rise up and hear the well-known beeping sound, though what surprises me is the voice I hear-it's my mother's.

"Hey, honey. I wanted just to check in with you. Did you find your brother? I hope you're not wandering the streets in the middle of the night just because of him, especially after you haven't slept in more than thirty hours. I'm telling you, he will come back to us on his own, he doesn't have anything-no money, no place to sleep, he can't do it on his own, so you don't have to worry about this, I'm sure he'll eventually be back, don't get yourself into trouble for him. It's not worth it. Anyway, get some rest please, you looked awful when we last saw each other and send my best to Bonnie. I love you, sweetheart. Your father is looking forward to dinner on Sunday. Wants to hear all about your residency. Have a good night."

I don't even realize that my eyes are full of tears by the time the message is over. I brush them away angrily and the well-known dull pain in my arm returns for a brief moment, for which I'm glad, because physical pain takes all the emotional one away.

That's what Damon couldn't figure out-I never wanted the surgeries, because it was better to feel that pain, it took my mind off everything else. When it got too hard or I just wanted to forget of what it reminded me of, I took drugs. Drugs were easy and they made everything simple. The pain of my parents hating me disappeared, the fact that Damon has barely been around in the last two years was suddenly insignificant, and the realization that I'll never play football again, which was the only thing that made my life bearable, disappeared into oblivion.

I loved Damon, I really did. But what he did tonight-it was all for nothing. I played a good act on him. I had no intentions of staying here.

I've already set my mind on things-I'm not going to be the good obedient boy anymore, there was no point in it. I was just going to disappear somewhere, get drunk and high and forget all about it. Damon was wrong-as much as I loved him-he was wrong-I was a lost cause.

I've always been, ever since I was born. Nobody ever really wanted me. I remember overhearing my mother and father fight in his office, that happened rarely and when it did it was mostly because of me. He said then that he never wanted me and that if they knew earlier that she was pregnant, she could've gotten an abortion.

All my life, they've always praised Damon. He was the perfect boy. Everything he did was right, everything he aspired to be, was approved. He was doing what he was told and there he was ladies and gentlemen-a doctor at the Whitmore Hospital, fist of his class, straight As throughout his years of study, prizes from competitions, scholarships, he didn't even have to use my dad's money. He found the perfect girlfriend-also a doctor, from a great and well-respected family, who had amazing manners and just the right amount of humor acceptable for a young lady.

And don't get me wrong-Damon deserves this. He really does. He tried. He tried for me, I can give him that, but all his efforts were futile as well-father wouldn't even pay attention to a sentence concerning me or my behavior. And then I guess, he got tired of it all, he went away, he started college, then internship, then residency and while he was climbing up the ladder, I was hitting rock bottom.

And right now I didn't really care about it.

"Don't worry, mom" I say silently in the dark. I know far too well Damon can't hear me, he'll be sleeping for a long time "I won't bring Damon troubles."

I move to the kitchen, grab one of Damon's bags that has his Hospital name on and start shoving some food from the fridge. I stuck two beers in my sweater pocket and shove the rest in the bag. I find a cigarette pack in the bottom drawer, grab a few shirts that are clean from his couch as well as a nice baseball cap. The last thing to do is steal all the money from his wallet, something which he'll hate me for, but I needed it for drugs so I had no choice. I doubted he would understand what it's like to want to forget that your life sucks that much at seventeen. I shove about 300 dollars in my pocket and find a really good bottle of scotch under the coffee table that I decide to take as well.

When I'm done and ready to go, I turn around and a photo on the fridge catches my attention-it's me and him on the football field. He's thrown his arm over my neck and I'm dressed in my jersey with the ball under my arm. I think we made that one a few weeks before the accident after which I was told I can no longer play. My life wasn't happy back then, but it was way better and looking at me and Damon there…I think I actually had one really great day.

I would lie if I say I miss this.

But what hurts more is that I can never have it again.

I already lost everything I cared about. And Damon…Damon has a whole great future in front of him, he'll make an amazing doctor, he'll do great things, save people. He deserves all of it and he surely doesn't need to take care of his little brother who got too fucked up at seventeen.

And I? I was the guy they found dead in some alley from an overdose somewhere, that nobody can recognize for weeks but everyone feel sorry for, because "he's just that young."

I smile as I take the photo off the fridge and fold It carefully, deciding to put it in my shirt's pocket, right next to my heart.

I might be leaving Damon, but that didn't mean I loved him any less.