A/N: Thank you all for reviewing! Everytime I get a review alert, my heart jumps out of my chest. You guys are awesome! So, this chapter took longer than I thought it would. I had it all ready, but when I read it over, I decided to go a completely different way, and rewrote the whole thing. Also, I was originally planning to have a lot more happening in this chapter, but if I'd included it all, it would have been so long you would all have fallen asleep on your keyboards, LOL.
A/N 2: As promised, this is a flash back chapter. I don't know about you guys, but the flashbacks in the show have always been a bit too Damon-lite for me, so I wanted to address this issue here. I've always kind of wondered what the Salvatore brothers' relationship was like before it all got twisted by the twisted sister Katherine, so this is my version. I hope you like it! Oh, by the way, I decided that for this story, there would be a 7 year age gap between the boys, I hope that's okay.
Elena sat forward in her seat and looked out of the small round window by her elbow. She couldn't see anything but clouds, and she had a brief moment of panic as she thought of how far down the ground was. She shook her head slightly at herself. During the planning of going to France to find Stefan, she hadn't once thought that this would be her first time on an airplane. It actually wasn't too bad, minus the ear popping that had occurred shortly after take-off. As if sensing her distress, Damon had gently stroked the knuckles on her hand that had turned white from gripping the armrest, and explained about the air pressure. She was certain that she hadn't experienced the most conventional first time boarding an airplane. Normally, people had passports and had to go through security checks. Then again, normally people weren't travelling with bags filled with vervain bombs and wooden stakes, and they also didn't have a vampire travelling with them using his compulsion at every turn. She hadn't liked that at first, seeing the glazed look come over the check in desk attendant as Damon had looked into her eyes and compelled her into believing she'd seen their passports. She'd glared at him, but he'd only raised his eyebrows at her, reminding her that she'd agreed to do things his way. It was the only way he would have let her come along and she knew it. Besides, she didn't even have a passport, so if she wanted to come along, compulsion was a necessary evil that she had to put up with.
She fidgeted in her seat again, anxious to get to France and start looking for Stefan. She stopped as she felt a hand on her arm.
"We've only been up in the air for an hour, Elena," Damon said, his trademark smirk firmly in place. "We've still got a while to go yet." His eyes roamed over her face, taking in her agitated state, and his voice softened. "Why don't you get some sleep? There's nothing we can do right now."
Elena looked pointedly at his laptop, which was sitting open on the table in front of him. "I could help you search," she said, leaning over to see what he was looking at.
"Can you read French?" He asked, the teasing tone back in his voice.
Elena slumped back in her seat with a sigh. "No," she grumbled, before turning to look at him again. "Can you?"
Damon chuckled softly. "I've been around for over 170 years Elena, I needed to find something to fill the time."
"Do you know other languages?"
Damon sneaked a sideways glance at her. She seemed to be settling down in her seat now, so he decided to carry on the conversation and keep her calm. "Let's see... I'm fairly fluent in French and Portuguese, I can translate Spanish, but I'm not too good at speaking it, but I can speak Mandarin." He thought for a moment. "Oh, and I'm completely fluent in Italian, of course." He looked over at her amazed gaze. "What? Stefan wasn't the only brother to get some undead education you know." Immediately he flinched; he had said the magic word.
Right on cue, Elena's agitation set back in. "Stefan," she whispered, then looked at Damon, sitting upright in her seat again. "What are we going to do when we get there? We need to have a plan, we should-"
Inwardly cursing himself, Damon reached over to touch her, before thinking better of it. His need to touch her was always there, just underneath the surface, and he was constantly slipping up and forgetting his self-imposed rule of not doing exactly that. She had grabbed his arm as the plane had taken off, and he could still feel the tingles her touch had created. It had gotten progressively more intense since the kiss, his desire for her threatening to block out common sense. He therefore tried to keep touching to a minimum, repeating It's always going to be Stefan over and over in his head until the urge went away. He was deluding himself of course, and he knew it, the urge was still there, right under the surface, but it helped him hold back for a while, at least until the next wave hit him.
He looked over at her again, thought for a moment, then turned to fully face her. "Did Stefan ever tell you what he was like as a child?" He asked, already knowing the reaction he would get.
He was right; Elena turned to him immediately, her curiosity briefly winning out over her worry. "No," she replied, biting her bottom lip in a mix of apprehension and excitement.
Damon's gaze flicked down to her lips before facing away from her and into the aisle. The flight attendant spotted him and immediately hurried over to them. "Could we have a blanket, please?" The attendant nodded enthusiastically, bending over and showing him a large portion of her cleavage as she ran her gaze up and down his body. As she walked away, Damon turned back to Elena, only to see her frowning at the woman's back. A brief spark of hope flared through him for a second. She's jealous! He thought for a moment, before reality hit him like a punch to the stomach. He swallowed the feeling of disappointment, and leaned forwards, finding the lever that would lay Elena's chair back into the sleeping position.
"Hey! What are you doing?" Elena struggled to keep sitting up as her seat slid backwards.
Damon pushed gently on her shoulders. "I'm going to do you a deal," he said, accepting the blanket the flight attendant had brought back without even glancing at her. "If you lie back and close your eyes, then I will tell you some stories about Stefan when he was growing up." He laid the blanket over her, tucking it in gently at the sides, as he looked down at her. He could see the struggle going on behind her eyes; the need to plan and be in control fighting with curiosity. He knew which had won as soon as she tucked her chin under the blanket and snuggled into her seat.
"Deal," she said, watching as he put away his laptop and laid his own seat back. "Tell me about your childhood."
Damon knew she was only interested in learning about Stefan's past, but he couldn't help feeling pleased at the way she worded her demand. It's always going to be Stefan, he reminded himself, before laying back in his seat, turning onto his side so that they were facing each other. "Close your eyes," he commanded, watching as she did so, before reaching back into his memories. "I remember this one time, when Stefan was about 9..."
Summertime, 1856
"Come on Stef! Jump in! You know you want to!" Damon's laugh echoed around the quarry as he trod water, waiting for his brother to finally man up and take the plunge. At sixteen, he had more confidence than Stefan, but that wasn't what was holding his little brother back. Their father had expressly forbidden them to swim at the quarry, probably concerned that they would have too much fun. The fact that Guiseppe had banned it only made the exercise that much more fun for Damon, but for Stefan, the idea of going against his father's wishes was enough to give him indigestion. Damon watched with amusement as Stefan stood on the small rock formation that stood out over the water, the need to do the right thing at war with his desire to make his older brother proud. He hopped from one foot to the other, peering over the ledge and wringing his hands in indecision. "If you don't jump in by the time I've counted to three," Damon called up to the small boy, I shall tell Jillian Forbes about that huge crush you have on her!"
Stefan stood up straight and shot a glare at his brother, but the warning still had the right effect. Taking a deep breath, he launched himself into the water, trying to splash as much water in Damon's laughing face as he could. He disappeared under the surface for a few moments, before crashing back up and spluttering. "It's c-c-cold!" he stuttered, before looking at his big brother accusingly. "You said it wouldn't b-be this c-cold in the summer!"
Damon laughed and splashed water at Stefan. "If I'd told you the truth, you never would have gotten in now, would you?" He splashed him again. "The quickest way to get warm is to keep moving. Come on, I'll race you to the other side." He struck out with his arms, leaving Stefan to catch up. After a minute though, he slowed his strokes, knowing that Stefan's 9 year old arms would never keep up. He let Stefan overtake him, and grinned to himself as his brother whooped with joy at beating his big brother.
"I won! I won I won I won!" Stefan crowed, punching his fists in the air and smacking them down into the water.
"Only because I've been waiting in here so long for you to finally pluck up the courage!" Damon grinned back, letting Stefan enjoy his supposed victory. "Come on, let's get back to shore."
"But I haven't been in here long!" Stefan exclaimed, pouting a little.
"And whose fault was that?" Damon laughed at him. "We can't stay in here for too long, the cold will make you ill. Besides, Father will be expecting us back soon, and we need some time to dry off, otherwise he'll have my hide."
Stefan thought for a moment, before realising Damon was right. Then he brightened. "Can we come back tomorrow?" he asked hopefully.
"Maybe," Damon replied, "if you haven't caught a cold by then!" He lunged forward and pushed down on his brother's shoulders, dunking him down under the surface and laughing as he came back up spluttering. "Come on, grab my shoulders and I'll give you a ride back."
"I won the race," Stefan said proudly, "I should be the one offering to give you a lift back to the shore." He placed his hands around Damon's neck however, and soon they were stumbling out of the water.
Damon shook himself vigorously, before walking over to the tree to retrieve the rest of their clothes. "Here," he said, handing Stefan his trousers and boots. "We'll put our shirts on when we get closer to the house, we'll dry quicker that way." He squatted down and helped Stefan pull his arms through his braces. "Happy Birthday, Stef." He said quietly.
Stefan looked up at him and grinned. "This was the best birthday ever!" he said, his eyes shining.
They managed to get back to the house without incident. The hot sun dried their clothes and their hair quickly as they made their way back through the woods to the edge of their property. As they approached the driveway, Damon handed Stefan his shirt and helped him tuck it in, making sure it didn't look like they had been doing anything other than taking a walk. Dinner was a silent affair, as usual. The only change to be seen happened as Guiseppe stood up to leave the table. He walked round to Stefan, put a hand on his shoulder and saying "Happy Birthday, Son," placing a small wrapped package on the table in front of the small boy. Damon watched as Stefan unwrapped the parcel with trembling fingers, hoping that his father had given his brother something nice. As Stefan opened the box and pulled out a watchpiece, his father smiled. "There you go Son," he said jovially, "Now you won't need to rely upon your brother's lousy time-keeping!" He laughed loudly, shooting Damon a contemptuous look as he did so.
Damon resisted the urge to roll his eyes and concentrated on Stefan. He could see that his brother was struggling between delight at the present and wanting to stay loyal to his brother. Damon decided to help him out. "It's stunning, Stef. Aren't you going to thank Father?"
It was all the encouragement Stefan needed. Turning around in his seat, he threw his arms around his father's waist. "Thanks, Father!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining.
Guiseppe patted his youngest son on the head, before extricating himself from the embrace. "Just make sure you take care of it. Punctuality is important in society; a man cannot be seen to be unsure of where he is supposed to be." He turned and exited the dining room, winding his way towards his study, as was his custom.
Damon smiled over at his brother, before kicking him in the shin beneath the table. "Come on, Jack, how about a few games of cards, before it's time for your bath?"
"Don't call me that!" Stefan scowled at the nickname, but got up from the table anyway.
"You know you love it," Damon led the way to the drawing room, and they spent a fun hour playing games and laughing and joking with each other, before Stefan's nurse came to get him ready for bed. Damon tidied up the room, then headed to his own bedroom, intending to read for a while before turning in. He was just thinking he had got away with the day's activities, when Stefan came skidding through his doorway, red in the face and looking as though he was about to burst into tears.
"Damon... I'm so sorry! I...I didn't mean to... it just slipped out!" Stefan gasped out, just as Guiseppe's bellow came thundering up the stairs.
"Damon!" He roared, "Get in my study! Now!"
Damon sighed and rubbed his hand across his face. Stefan stood in front of him, trembling with anxiety. Before either of them could say anything however, Stefan's nurse came through the door and started pulling the small boy back towards his own bedroom, giving Damon a nasty glance as she departed. Damon got up from his chair slowly, and began the walk down to meet his father. He was in a lot of trouble for taking Stefan swimming at the quarry and he knew it was going to be painful, but he couldn't bring himself to regret it. Stefan had enjoyed his birthday, that was what mattered.
Alaric sat at the kitchen table in the Gilbert house, Isobel's research spread out before him. He was trying to figure out if there was anything there that could help him pinpoint Klaus's location further, so he could give Damon and Elena a few pointers once they landed in France. He hadn't been entirely happy to let Elena go, but he didn't really feel it was his place to protest. He had assured her that he would look after Jeremy while she was gone, which was why he was here instead of at his apartment. Not that he wanted to go back there anyway, but at least it gave him an excuse. He looked over at the youngest Gilbert, who was sitting on the couch with his laptop. He moved over to join him, his eyes getting fuzzy and needing a break. "Find anything?"
Jeremy looked up at him, before turning his laptop so Ric could see it. "I think so. Maybe." He pointed to the map on the screen. "I managed to get a signal from Stefan's phone. The last time it was used was here," he moved his finger down to an area just outside the town of Mystic Falls.
Alaric was amazed that the kid could find these things out. He could barely turn a computer on. Age of the geek, he guessed. "Where is that?"
Jeremy looked up at him. "It's a warehouse district. Maybe if we search it, we'll find something."
Alaric agreed. Give Caroline a call. We might need her."
"Why?"
"Because," Alaric said, standing up and reaching for his car keys, "if Klaus did leave something there, he probably won't have left it unprotected."
Jeremy grabbed his coat from the arm of the couch and pulled out his phone. He sent a quick text, then stood up. "Let's go. I sent her the address. She can meet us there."
Alaric hesitated. "Jeremy-"
"Don't even say it, Ric," Jeremy warned him, before striding over to the front door. "I'm coming." He opened the door and walked out without looking back.
Alaric rubbed his hand over his face, thinking the kid was probably right. After all, the last time he had been left behind, his aunt had died. A sharp pain shot through him at the memory of his own loss. He walked out the house, his eyes lingering on the picture of Jenna in the hallway as he pulled the door closed behind him.
Alaric pulled his car into an abandoned truck stop on the outskirts of the warehouse district, looking around apprehensively. He blew out a breath, then got out of the car and moved to open the trunk, searching through his store of weapons. He heard Jeremy step out of the car and leaned round, about to tell him to stay put, but the words died in his throat. He watched as Jeremy seemed to be having a whispered conversation with himself. "Uh, Jeremy? Everything okay?"
The kid turned round to him with a sad sort of smile on his face, before looking over his shoulder. "Caroline's here." The blond vampire pulled her car up next to Ric's and stepped out, Tyler following her out of the passenger side.
Caroline moved round to Ric's open trunk and pulled out a couple of stakes. "Hoping to run into trouble, are we?" she turned her blue eyes up to look at the history teacher come vampire hunter.
"Definitely not hoping, but prepared nonetheless."
"So, where should we look first?" Tyler asked, taking a couple of stakes for himself and shooting a nervous glance in Caroline's direction, as if scared the wood in his hand would slam into her chest of its own accord.
"That one," Jeremy answered, pointing in the direction of a warehouse a few blocks down the road.
"Are you sure?" Alaric squinted in the same direction, wondering why they would search that one first when there were plenty of others closer to them.
Jeremy looked off to a spot on his right, before turning back to the small group. "I'm sure." He sighed when it became obvious that they were all questioning his sanity right now. "Just trust me, okay? I'm the one who found this lead, aren't I?" He started walking towards the warehouse he had picked out, but not before shooting a glance back at the same spot of thin air.
Alaric watched him with more than a little apprehension, before closing the trunk and falling into step behind the boy. Seems the job of looking after Elena's brother might have just got a little tougher.
"Why did you call him that?"
"Hmm?" Damon had almost drifted off his in seat, lost in his memories of another time. He looked over at Elena, he brown eyes peeking out at him from under the blanket. He had thought she'd fallen asleep; the controlled breathing had told her that she was at least half way. She stretched in her seat, the movement so feline and graceful that Damon had to literally bite his tongue to keep from moaning out loud.
"You called him Jack. Why did you call him that?"
Now he understood. He had fallen silent in his storytelling, not wanting her to hear about the punishment he had received at the hands of his father for going against his wishes. He smiled thoughtfully. "The girl he had a crush on, Jillian Forbes?" He lay there looking at Elena, watching to see if her curiosity would change into something like jealousy at the idea of Stefan liking someone else. There was no reaction from her however, except for her to snuggle closer to hear his whispered words. It encouraged him to continue, even as he silently berated himself for thinking of this as a good sign. "Everyone called her Jill. She and Stefan were the same age, and they used to go everywhere together, they were inseparable." He smiled again at the memory. "One time I found them out by the stables. They were arguing over a bucket of water." He laughed out loud. "They both wanted to give the water to the horses by themselves. Anyway, Stefan managed to pull the bucket out of Jill's hands, but he tripped." Elena giggled, and Damon couldn't stop it, his heart soared at the sound. "Stefan fell backwards, hitting his head on the floor, and the water drenched him from head to toe." Elena giggled again, and Damon cherished the sound. She didn't laugh nearly often enough. "So I called him Jack from then on, as in the nursery rhyme Jack and Jill." Damon laughed and shook his head. "He hated it at first, but as he grew older, he started wearing the name as a kind of badge of honour."
"Why?" Elena asked, thoroughly enjoying this rare glimpse into the lives of the young Salvatore brothers.
When he hit his head, he started bleeding. He always thought he would be scared of the sight of blood, but it turned out he wasn't bothered. That was the day he decided to become a doctor." Damon sighed, acknowledging the loss of his brother's future so long ago. "He used to say that he would marry her, and they would be together forever, only he would fix people with more than just vinegar and brown paper." He sat his chair up and looked at the screen showing their journey. "We'll be landing soon." He turned to her. "You know there will have to be more compulsion at this end too, right?"
Elena nodded, sitting up in her own seat, brushing her fingers through her dishevelled hair. "I know. It's alright." Then she turned to him, almost shyly. "Thank you," she said softly.
Damon couldn't help it this time; he reached out and stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "You're welcome."
Stefan sighed as he sat in a booth at the back of the club. This was his third night in this place, and while he certainly didn't mind the continuous line of willing girls that he fed on, or had sex with, often both at the same time, he couldn't help but feel as though something was missing. There was something else he wanted to do, something that he knew would satisfy this craving that had lodged deep within him, but he couldn't put his finger on exactly what that something was. Klaus didn't seem willing to help him either; after declaring that Laverna was a witch who could help him with his plan, he had settled down into the party life, seeming to need nothing more than girls and blood. Did he even have a plan? Stefan wondered for the umpteenth time, but knowing it would do no good to ask the original again. The answer was always the same. "Enjoy yourself my friend. There's no rush. I'll let you know what the plan is when it's the right time." But when was the right time going to be? Stefan was getting more than a little frustrated, and this deep, burning desire to do something was only adding to his agitation. He needed a distraction. His eyes roamed around the room, until they landed on a girl dancing by herself. He watched as she moved up to first one man, then another, sliding her hands down the arms and gyrating her hips next to them in time with the music. Her blond hair was ragged, and even from this distance Stefan could sense an air of unkemptness about her. A prostitute, he thought. As he continued to watch her, a blurred memory crept out of his subconscious, but it flitted away again before he could grab hold of it. He got up, stalking towards her, suddenly certain that she would help him with his satisfaction problem. She turned towards him as he approached her, a smile lighting up her tired looking face as she spied a paying customer. She slid her hands up his chest and around his neck.
"Comment t'apelle tu?" she asked him seductively.
Stefan smiled slowly, running his fingers lightly across her face, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Call me Jack."
A/N: So, who can guess where I'm going with this? I want Stefan to be dark, like a really dark, depraved serial mass murderer, and sorry, but a list of your victims just doesn't cut it for me!
As always, I hope you enjoyed it, and please review!