You are the sun to the earth
You are the light of this world
Why won't you see?
You are the hand I can't reach
You are the words I can't speak
Lullaby – Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

Damon watched his brother disappear again.

The girl that took his place was the same wretched creature he had to look at day after day in his house. He cursed seeing the same person consuming his brother every time he closed his eyes.

He tried fighting back, but there was no more air in his lungs.

Shadowy smoke throbbed and pulsed against Damon. He was being twisted into impossible angles, screaming as icy tendrils slipped around him.

His eyes burned with unshed tears. Her laughter was getting louder, but he couldn't move his arms to cover his ears.

Then, something warm curled over his shoulder. Her laughter got choked up like someone turned the volume down. The warmth slipped slowly lower as the ice slid off of him, extinguishing the inky darkness with a beam of light.

Inch by inch, he could move one arm, and then the other as the darkness slipped away. The incredible warmth, not burning, not aching, just a comfortable sensation from his shoulder spread through his whole body. His hand came up, trying to grab it, to understand what the weight on his body was, but as soon as he reached for it, his eyes opened.

Damon sat up, gasping deep breaths.

He was in his room, in the darkness again, but not the one that terrified him. The warmth on his shoulder was still there, but this time when he reached for it, he felt the solid weight of his brother's hand.

His head cleared a little, realizing the physical presence of Stefan had changed his dream. He tilted his head, barely brushing his chin over his brother's knuckles as he smiled.

Damon put his hand on the man's forearm. "Thank you, brother."

Stefan was in such deep sleep he barely even stirred.

"Stefan!"

A hand squeezed his arm and Stefan's eyes flew open. Damon's room was bathed in shadows, dawn still hours away, but Stefan could see Damon's hair gone awry, his face creased with pillow lines and bewilderment. It probably matched Stefan's.

He sat up and leaned forward. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Damon moved over, pulling Stefan along where his hand was still gripping Stefan's arm.

"What are you talking about? Why are you snoring in my chair?"

Stefan went with Damon's guiding, not considering he was crawling into Damon's bed until he lay there with Damon pulling the blankets around them. "I, uh, you were having a nightmare. I was worried about you. But, I didn't want to impose."

"Your jeans are filthy. I don't know where you were hunting, but they have to go. You're not staining my sheets with animal blood."

Stefan paused, not sure how to take the invitation. He hadn't meant to stick around as long as he had. Didn't know what it meant that Damon seemed to want him to stay.

Damon gestured with his chin, impatient. "Off."

The decision wasn't much of one to make. Stefan rolled his eyes but shuffled out of the offending fabric. As soon as the pants hit the floor, he turned and glared at Damon. "Dude, I'm not staying here if you're naked."

"Oh." Damon looked down at where the blankets pooled around his waist. He quickly leaned over the other side of the bed, his bare ass turned up before he straightened out and tugged on some tight black underwear. "Happy?"

"Thrilled." Stefan muttered as he leaned back against the pillows.

Smiling softly, Damon looked over at Stefan then lay back down. The bed was massive, custom made to probably fit a half dozen people decently if no one moved much, but Damon lay close enough for their arms to touch. As soon as Stefan's head hit the pillow, Damon closed his eyes. He looked like he could fall right back to sleep.

Stefan's chest started fluttering suddenly and his mouth went dry like he hadn't fed in weeks. His eyes fell shut in the onslaught of a million memories.

"Stop freaking out. We used to do this all the time."

Stefan opened one eye and peered over at Damon, wondering if he was reading Stefan's mind. "I remember." Things were simpler then and not a day went by that Stefan didn't miss them. "You were usually the one looking out for me though."

"Usually?" Damon kept his eyes closed and dug his elbow into Stefan's side.

Groaning, Stefan rolled away. "The most. Whatever. All the time."

"That's what I thought." Damon smirked, speaking slower as he edged closer back to sleep. "You were always sneaking into my room as soon as the nanny put you to bed. You hated sleeping alone."

"I still do." Stefan admitted.

He felt Damon nod slowly then move closer to make up for the room Stefan put between them.

They fit like this, alone in the dark. Nothing supernatural or uncomfortable about them. No one out to get them, or get between them. This was the parts of humanity Stefan missed but could never duplicate with anyone else. It was just nighttime, and they were normal brothers who spent significant parts of their lives as each other's closest friends, no matter how infuriating or depressing that fact was.

Damon's breathing steadied, puffing gently against Stefan's shoulder. He relaxed as well, trying to find a position to rest where he wasn't crowded against his big brother.

With a sigh, Damon shifted around, grabbing Stefan's chin and pinning it in place. He huffed a laugh, but didn't open his eyes more than enough to peer through his lashes. "Quit squirming."

"Sorry. I'll go back to my room." The words came out mumbled with Damon still holding his jaw.

The hand tightened painfully for a second, and then Damon let go. "If you want. But you don't have to." His fingers started moving on Stefan's chest. Right above the spot his heart was thudding around like it was trying to get out. Even through the fabric of Stefan's shirt, he could feel the familiar lazy circles.

No, he wanted to stay. By way of answering, he shifted the pillow under his head and got comfortable. He let his eyes close, feeling Damon's hand move in time to his breathing.

As Stefan was starting to doze off, a firm press of dry soft lips against his own drew him out. His mouth fell open, breathless, but his brother had already pulled away.

"What—"

"I'm glad you're here. Thank you for staying."

Blinking furiously, Stefan turned so they were facing each other. Apprehension came back like a sledgehammer in his chest. "Damon, the other night—"

Damon's hand slapped over his face again, cutting him off. "Don't," he whispered softly before nudging Stefan backward and tucking himself against Stefan's side. He moved his hand from Stefan's mouth and draped it over his waist instead. "Don't make it more than what it is."

Tripped up by the questions roaring for dominance inside him, Stefan sensed Damon fall asleep the second his head hit Stefan's chest, effectively steamrolling over the problem of keeping a little space between them. He touched his lips nervously unsure if the tingling sensation would go away. It took a few minutes for Stefan's heart to find its rhythm again.

He spent his entire lifetime knowing everything about his big brother, but he didn't know what this was. The casual intimacy being wrapped around each other wasn't something he thought he could have anymore. This wasn't the volatile, abrasive, sarcastic version of Damon everyone else split between them. This was the big brother he had before Elena existed, before Katherine, before a century and a half passed them over, before they had to let go so Damon could serve God and Country to please a father who inevitably hated them both.

He wrapped his arms around Damon, pulling him closer and settling that way. He thought Damon was already out but right before he drifted to sleep he felt Damon squeeze back.

That night Stefan dreamed of games that stretched across acres of wooded land, of girls who only pleased themselves and steel blue eyes that saw straight through him.