A/N: Go listen to this song. Link to playlist in my profile
I'm the same man now that I was when I changed
See, the birth of a star is a death of its fate.
Brother, Brother,
Make my soul be found.
Stand Still – Reuben and the Dark
As was their habit, the brothers pretended nothing had happened for a few days. Damon could see the way not talking ate away at Stefan though, knew his little brother was trying to sort out Damon's behavior by himself. Now that he had a name for this constant aching feeling inside him, he felt incredibly different about letting Stefan get strung out on his own secrets.
Damon waited until Stefan was home alone. There was no way he'd be caught admitting mistakes in front of anyone else. Not that he knew exactly what he was apologizing for. He found himself walking laps in the hallway while Stefan was at the desk in the study writing in his journal.
Turns out Stefan broke first. "Damon, enough!"
Knowing how to handle Stefan being mad at him better than anything, Damon turned into the room burying all his insecurities rather successfully.
"What is your problem?"
Stefan shot him a glare before dropping back down. "You're pacing like a maniac and it's driving me crazy. Would you sit down or go away?"
Momentarily abashed by his nerves being so noticeable, but too caught up in them to leave, Damon slumped backwards. The couch caught his fall, and he landed with a huff.
"Thank you." Stefan mumbled without looking up from his notebook.
"I'm sorry." Damon announced. He surprised himself by discarding all the buildup he had been mentally rehearsing, but he immediately felt better.
With a dismissive wave of his hand, Stefan continued what he was doing. "It's not a big deal. Just distracting."
It took a minute for Damon to process that response, not at all being what he was expecting. Then he realized he and Stefan weren't referring to the same thing. Like it was totally normal for Damon to go around making amends for things. "No, not for that. I'm apologizing for the other night."
Slowly, Stefan raised his head. He barely met Damon's eyes but he leaned forward, offering his attention. When he didn't say anything, Damon continued.
"I'm not sure what happened, exactly." Damon lied, stopped himself, and then tried again. "I mean, I do know, but I didn't mean for it to happen. I hope I didn't make Elena too upset." He couldn't say what he hoped Stefan's reaction to be. He honestly didn't know. But Stefan didn't seem angry when he walked in on them, and if they didn't talk about it for days, he couldn't be too angry about it now. Damon had no clue if that was good or bad.
"Elena didn't notice. I wasn't going to tell her." Stefan leaned back in his chair, eyes falling back to Damon, studying him carefully. His fingers drummed against the desk. "If you know what happened, tell me."
Stefan was offering the chance for Damon to explain himself, which gave him a small comfort. He wanted to spin the truth, but he could tell by the look on Stefan's face that he was resigned to hearing a deception, and for once, he'd rather be honest. He winced as he struggled to get the words out. "I wasn't really... conscious."
"You were sleepwalking." It was a statement more than a question, but it filled in the gaps just the same.
"Yeah, I've been sleepwalking." Damon felt like pulling his own teeth to admit to it, but Stefan didn't seem surprised. "It only happens sometimes. I've tried blocking my path, but I guess you've noticed how much good that does."
"The broken door. The destroyed furniture."
"Yeah." Damon fidgeted under Stefan's concerned gaze.
"So you were sleepwalking that night, and you left when you woke up?"
"Of course," Damon said quickly, too convinced of Stefan's negative reaction if he told him the wretched details. It was sort of true; snapping out of whatever sex haze induced staring contest he had been falling into felt a lot like waking up again. He found Stefan looking at him intently. "Even my subconscious is suspicious of all the sex noises you two make." He smiled; pleased he could be honest without losing himself.
Stefan seemed less amused, but was still looking at him carefully. "What else is happening? If it's sleepwalking, that usually means you're going towards or away from something."
"We've lived too long not to have a few rough nights every once in a while, brother." Damon sat back, breaking eye contact and staring at his hands.
"It's a bit more than wandering the halls."
Maybe his brother already knew too much. He could feel the incisive gaze and his face crumpled. "Just a nightmare here and there."
There was silence for a few moments. Damon could feel the concern radiating off of Stefan, figured the catalogue of questions to potentially expose all of Damon's secrets was spinning again. Finally he heard, "What are your nightmares about, brother?"
"It doesn't matter. They aren't real." He said quietly. It couldn't be a lie if he didn't know if that were true or not.
"Her?" Stefan responded just as quiet, as if he were afraid the very name would set Damon off. It didn't matter which her he was referring to. "You know, if you wanted to talk about her, about any of them, we could."
There was an overwhelming sense of relief to chalk up the women that came between them as a distant distraction. His miserable failures at settling for everyone who never wanted him anyway.
"Now, now." Damon stood finally, drained at the attempt of opening up and ready to go back to their normal arguments. "We mustn't start comparing notes on the girls now. Unless you're willing to lend me yours for my own thorough research." He smiled wide and wagged his eyebrows.
Crossing his arms, Stefan glared. "If it's notes you're after, I'll give you those. Elena isn't available for your personal case studies."
Damon's face lit up in surprise. "You have notes? Seriously?"
"No." Rolling his eyes, Stefan moved his pen and closed his journal. "Shut up."
Damon let it go with a smirk. Grateful the topic changed and his issues seemed to be dropped without too much awkwardness, Damon walked over to pour himself a well-deserved scotch.
"Thanks for telling me." Stefan said softly.
The bottle in Damon's hand wavered over his glass, making his drink a triple. Stefan knew how much Damon hated admitting weakness. It was why Damon could only tell him a fraction of his sleeping troubles. If Stefan knew the rest of it, well, that couldn't happen.
