This is alive
The dead man possesses me
And there's a shortness of breath
There's weakness in me
I got this feeling that we're dead
Sleep Paralysis – Gabriel Bruce

Damon shouldn't be so furious. He didn't have the furniture to spare.

He hated her. Hated her with every undead fiber of his being and he couldn't do shit about it because anything he did would guarantee Stefan would be lost to him.

Instead, he paced.

He didn't know why he couldn't look away. There was no way to ignore the powerful look in Stefan's eyes, or the way his sluggish rhythm improved as they stared at each other. He didn't know the cause of it, or why his chest burned and throat went dry as Elena's hands ran all over Stefan's body.

It had been a taunt; about Stefan holding back so as not to hurt Elena, but too much of it could be true. It was the downside of vampires trying to be with the incredibly fragile humans they didn't want to kill. Damon only tried letting Alaric inside him so he didn't always have to worry about controlling himself that way. But he saw the way Stefan wanted more, was holding himself back the way he denied himself everything. Being so in control for her. He wondered if Stefan ever actually let loose. For a split second, the picture of what that might look like filled his head before he shook out the thought. The frequency of that new recurring image did not making getting rid of it any easier.

He paced until he was nauseous and his head was pounding. He took a deep breath and dropped to the floor. Leaning back against the post of his bed, he let his eyes close for a few moments. He was so fucking tired.

Damon walked downstairs, hand gliding above the smooth polished wooden handrail to find Stefan waiting at the bottom. He looked gorgeous in a tailored suit and shiny wingtip shoes. There was no reason to feel guarded or keep what he was feeling a secret. Stefan was smiling up at him. Damon returned the smile, holding his hand out for Stefan to take.

His lost his footing and suddenly they were crashing against a bed, all skin against skin now. Stefan rolled on top of him, still smiling. Damon was pretty pleased as well, leaning in to touch Stefan's face but his little brother pulled away.

Stefan looked Damon over, his smile fading quickly. Damon tried to pull him closer, but Stefan shook his head with a look that was quickly changing to disgust. Damon squirmed under him trying to get some friction, but Stefan kept moving away.

Damon's reach became more frantic, grasping for his brother and only grabbing air. He tried calling his brother's name, but his mouth was sealed shut.

No, his mouth was being held shut by strong slender fingers.

He stretched sideways, trying to see behind him, but all he saw were wicked teeth in a sea of inky darkness. He looked back up to where Stefan was standing now, no longer against him. Stefan walked towards the darkness in a football uniform and Damon scrambled to get up. He couldn't get off the ground, twisting in place, reaching forward.

A young girls voice taunted in a singsong voice from the darkness behind him, "You can't have him."

Damon growled, but still nothing came out. He watched in horror as the darkness compacted in on itself until it was a lithe soft shadow with arms stretched out toward Stefan.

He heard a woman laugh but he couldn't tell if it was coming from the shadow in front of him, or the darkness behind him. They were the same damn thing.

A cold shudder went down his neck and his head tipped all the way backwards until he was being pulled further into the darkness. He looked up in time to see Stefan fall into the shadow's embrace.

The voice continued, "See? He belongs to her now."

Damon tried calling Stefan's name, begging him not to leave, but his brother was fading into the shadow with an expression absolute bliss. Damon kept trying to scream until finally Stefan looked back him. Cold whispers surrounding them. Distracted, Stefan started to grow concerned as the shadows wrapped around him. Multiplying like tentacles and twisting him up.

The shadow fleshed out as more of Stefan disappeared. The same wicked teeth appearing on a girl's face where Stefan used to stand.

This wasn't real. Damon knew that, but he still thrashed as he fell, devoured by the darkness.

The laughter echoed louder, separating until it wasn't one woman, but two.

At last, Damon's mouth split open and he screamed.

Damon thrashed against the floor and sat up, catching himself. The nightmare happened again. His fingers started running back and forth on the smooth wood, reminding himself he was awake. He looked around his room, comforted by the daylight. His head felt tender where it collided with the cold floor.

The details were already blurring except for the acrid burn of the last sour note on the back of his tongue. The silent screams were still caught in his throat, and he sucked in a breath deep enough to swallow them.

Stefan belonged to no one except Damon.

Those bitches weren't going to take him away.

Wait,

what?

Confused by his own line of thought, Damon shook his head vigorously. As things settled a bright beam of clarity pierced through the fog.

He never really understood jealousy. Getting what he wanted usually proved ridiculously easy through charm or compulsion. But this. This miserable feeling. This would not do at all.

So okay, he was a little jealous. Or, well, outrageously fucking jealous. Of Elena. He wanted what she had, to be in full possession of his brother. The secret that was bursting to get out of the coffin he nailed it under. Why had he not understood sooner? Because seriously,

well,

shit.