Chapter 9
A/N I want to thank all of you who have been regularly reading this story. Maybe some of you could list yourselves as "followers"? It looks so nice in the listing and it encourages me. Okay, it's an ego boost.
"Itchin' & Scratchin"
Stefan headed for the door and left without further word. He spotted Jenna at her bedroom door, likely concerned about why he and Elena were arguing. Down in his car, he phoned his brother. It wasn't late and he assumed Damon was still up. After one ring, Damon answered.
"Where are you?" Stefan asked.
"Why? Don't tell me Bonnie has come up with more bad news."
"No, but I want to talk to you."
"Well, talk."
"Not on the phone. Where are you?"
"At home. What's up?"
"I'll be there in a couple of minutes."
Stefan walked into the big house not really knowing what to say to Damon. He didn't believe Damon had hurt the woman in question, but what if?
He found his brother in the living room, sitting on a sofa, watching television. He had a drink in his right hand, while his other hand was at the crotch of his pants. He moved the hand away.
"I expected you to be out and about," Stefan said.
"I was earlier. What's on your mind this time?"
"Did you hear about the woman who was beaten and raped?"
"Yes. I heard it from Liz. Why?"
"Did you do it?" Stefan forced himself to ask.
Damon stared at Stefan, an incredulous look on his face. "Why the hell would you even think that?" His eyes narrowed as anger replaced surprise.
"You haven't been yourself lately, Damon. You've lost your temper at least twice. Totally freaked. Briefly, I'll admit. So answer me, did you do it?"
Damon got up from the sofa and gave his brother a hard look. "No, I did not! I don't beat up women and then rape them. And how did you hear about this rape?"
"From Elena. It was the mother of a classmate. I didn't think it was you. Really, I didn't, but I had to ask. Sorry."
"But she does! Elena thinks I did it, doesn't she?" The idea upset Damon. How could she?
"She's wondering. I said I'd come and find out," Stefan admitted a bit lamely. "I'll admit I was a little unsure because of the witch's brew thing. You really have been violent lately. Has everything been all right today?"
Damon turned away and swallowed the last of his drink. He set the glass down and stood, staring at the television.
"Damon, what is it?"
"Nothing."
"Is the tingle back? Does your butt cheek hurt?"
"No. I'm fine."
"You're lying to me. What's going on? Are you lying to me about that woman?"
Damon turned back to him with glaring blue eyes and his hands in fists. "I said I didn't do it and I meant it." He suddenly gave a short, humorless laugh. "I sure as hell couldn't have raped her. I can't get it up." His left hand moved to the front of his jeans.
"What?"
"What part of 'can't get it up' don't you understand?"
Stefan just stared at Damon. That was just about the last thing he had ever expected to hear his brother say.
Damon broke the awkward silence. "Yeah, well, I'm as stunned as you are."
"Were you with a woman this evening? I mean, when did this problem come to light?"
"Earlier today when I should have gotten a response and didn't," Damon said.
There followed a brief discussion of what Damon had tried in order to establish that he was really impotent, which it seemed that now he was.
"Nothing works. In fact, it doesn't even feel right. It …."
"Don't tell me it tingles," Stefan said, interrupting his brother.
"Yeah, but not in a fun way. More of a sore itch," Damon muttered, scratching.
Stefan felt his shoulders sag with disappointment. Damon wasn't cured. He needed another treatment. And how many more?
"I'll tell you one thing, little brother."
"What?"
"This is one place you are not using that damned sandpaper on." His hand protectively cupped the area in question.
The very idea made Stefan's privates crawl. "I can't see doing that either."
"It's probably something Katherine would like to try," Damon said with disgust. "This makes me sick! We really have to go after those two young bitches that stuck me." His fingers rubbed against the persistent itchy tingle in his groin. He was definitely uncomfortable.
"Someone else is probably behind it, but those girls could tell us who," Stefan said.
"They certainly would tell if I could get my hands on them."
There was a knock on the front door and the brothers looked at each other. Damon swore softly and indicated with a nod of his head that Stefan go see who was there. It turned out to be Elena. He let her in.
"I came to apologize, Stefan," she said as she walked with him to the living room. They saw Damon pouring himself whiskey from a decanter on a small table beside the sofa. "I was upset and really bitchy tonight," she explained.
"PMS," Damon said, turning to face her and sipping his drink. His expression was neither happy nor mischievous, which he usually was when he saw her.
Elena looked a bit surprised. She knew Stefan kept track of her very-regular periods. Apparently, so did Damon. The PMS did make her emotional.
"My brother tells me you think I beat and raped some woman today. I can't believe you thought I was that low. That hurts, Elena," Damon said in a reproachful tone.
"It's sometimes hard to know just what you would or would not do, Damon."
"He didn't do it," Stefan assured her.
"That's the truth. I didn't," Damon said, now in a snarky tone.
"I shouldn't have accused you. I apologize. I'm just so angry about what happened. To think someone did that to the poor woman. Her daughter Dottie is just devastated."
"They'll get over it. They just have to put it behind them," Damon said.
The comment struck Elena as totally insensitive and callous. Furious and red-faced, she screamed at him, "Get over it? Get over it? You have no idea how that woman feels! How violated and degraded she must feel! You bastard!"
Neither man made a move to touch her. Stefan wanted to hug her to calm her, but he had a feeling that she was angry enough to kick him in the groin just because he was a man.
Damon's eyes narrowed. "Elena, listen to me. Are you listening? Good. In my life I've been beaten, burned, branded, stabbed with lances, swords, knives and wooden stakes, shot with arrows, bolts and bullets - both metal and wooden - , raped, tortured, mutilated, bones broken, poisoned, injected with stuff and killed. Oh, and let's not forget sandpapered. I've healed every damned time, so people can do more stuff to me. And except when plotting revenge, I've put it behind me. You can't carry it around with you! It's too heavy a burden!"
Elena stared at Damon with her mouth open, shocked at what he had said and been through, but also at the realization that Stefan had likely suffered many of the same insults to his body. She had caught the word 'raped' in the list of all those cruelties. She felt despair because the world was so cruel. People were so cruel to each other! She burst into tears. All three of them knew Damon was right about the PMS.
Stefan took a chance and put his arms around Elena. He was relieved when she pressed against him and sobbed into the front of his shirt. He just hoped she didn't question him about the various indignities he had suffered. He wasn't totally happy with Damon's confession. He looked at his brother, who had gone back to scratching his itch, since Elena wasn't looking. None of the three of them was happy with the way things were going.
Damon threw his head back and downed the rest of his drink. When he lowered his head he found both Stefan and Elena watching him scratch. He removed his hand and shrugged.
"Damon's got a problem again," Stefan told her.
"Oh, no! He needs another treatment?" Elena asked, wiping her face with a tissue she had had in a pocket. She looked up at the worried expression on Stefan's face.
"We haven't figured out if that's true or how to do it. It isn't his butt that's the problem this time," Stefan said.
Elena looked at the crotch of Damon's jeans. She saw him put his hand in his left pocket. He was scratching. "You didn't get injected there, did you?"
"No, he didn't," Stefan said. "Remember, I checked the first night."
"I can answer her questions myself, thank you," Damon growled at his brother.
Still, Stefan said, "This time he has an itch. And something else has come up."
"Not 'up'," Damon said. "That's the problem."
"What do you mean?" Elena asked.
"He seems to be impotent." He kept answering before Damon could, but in this case, Damon didn't mind. Much. It was an embarrassing thing to admit to.
"Blabbermouth," Damon said, rolling his eyes. He looked at the empty glass in his right hand and, removing his left hand from his pocket, he reached for the decanter again.
Stefan watched his brother pour more bourbon. Damon could drink a lot before he became drunk, but it looked like he was headed that way. He supposed it was understandable.
Damon downed half of what he had poured as he headed for a sofa. He stopped suddenly and swore. He started scratching just above his belt buckle. He dropped his glass and used both hands to frantically scratch his abdomen. "Ants! Ants are biting me!"
A/N This chapter is a bit short, but I hope you found it interesting. I stopped where I did because I thought it made a cliff-hanger. Please give me some feedback on how this is going.
