"Sleep, those little slices of death – how I loathe them."
Edgar Allen Poe
The front door eased open as Damon stepped inside the boarding house. It was still early, or at least, there was still light out, but Damon felt like he had been awake for days avoiding the place. A change of clothes and a glass of his own scotch was his only resolve to finally head home.
"Damon?" Stefan's surprised voice called from the study. Damon blinked slowly and followed his brother's call. "Where have you been?"
"Out."
Stefan closed his journal and leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, I can tell. I feel like I haven't seen you in weeks."
Damon kept his jacket on and tucked his car keys into the pocket. After a moment's hesitation, he walked across from the desk and dropped onto the couch. "Is that right? You couldn't have missed me much."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
What did it mean? Damon shrugged, heavy eyes not moving from the fireplace. "You seem to have your hands full lately. I'm surprised you noticed." He wanted to smack himself in the face, but that involved movement he didn't have the energy for. Could he be any more petulant? He looked up to see if Stefan was as baffled by his behavior as he was, but instead Stefan had a small guarded smile.
"Yeah I guess."
Shit, that was worse.
Their gaze met long enough for Damon to see the light in his brother's eyes. There was a contentedness Damon never remembered feeling. The bewildering rolling in his gut making it seem more out of reach than ever.
"Where've you been?" Stefan repeated.
Damon tipped his head back against the couch, closing his eyes.
"Out."
"So you said."
Stefan's calmness only irked Damon more.
"What does it matter?"
"I was wondering if you'd say goodbye this time."
Head falling forward to face the fire, Damon's eyes slid open slowly. "Am I going somewhere?" He knew full well what his brother meant. Damon had a propensity for disappearing, sometimes days, sometimes decades at a time out of Stefan's sight. It was the curse of the aimless.
"I never know until you're gone," Stefan said quietly, rising from behind the desk and walking over to the couch.
Seeing Stefan walking closer out of the corner of his eye made the room rush down around Damon. Blinking rapidly he realized he was standing before he had planned on getting up. Stefan stalled with a crease in his brow.
"I'm going upstairs." He rubbed his thumb and forefinger against his eyelids until all he saw were stars. The scotch would have to wait.
"Wait," Stefan blurted. The second Damon looked at him, Stefan shuffled back. "I thought you'd really left. Can't you stick around a little while?" Sounding hesitant, but also a little desperate, which pleased something dark and mean inside Damon.
He smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. "Now, now, now, brother, you know once you get me talking, you never like what you hear." He stepped forward, closing some of the distance between them. "If you really want to know what I've been up to the last few nights, pay attention to the news. I'm sure my best work has been splashed across the screen, or at least check the obituary." His stomach rolled and churned at the disappointment washing over Stefan's face, but he quickly switched it off. It wasn't the time for that. "Although I have made one new friend recently."
Wary, Stefan's hands clasped to fiddle with his ring in his newest nervous gesture.
"Don't you want to know? I call him Ric, but it's short for something, I forget." He tapped his chin, faking confusion. He waited till recognition flickered in Stefan's eyes, and wariness sputtered to panic. "Oh that's right." He pointed one long finger back to Stefan. "You know him too. Elena's guardian, Alaric. Interesting cache of tools he's working with."
"Damon, if you hurt him," Stefan's shaky threat was cut off by a knock at the door.
They both turned toward it, glaring at the interruption. Damon's nostrils flared to trace the scent, while Stefan's head tipped to listen. He quickly spun back to Damon, panic doubled.
"Relax, little brother. I've no plans on ruining anyone's life today." He reached forward to pat Stefan's shoulder before noticing and pulling his hand back before making contact. Instead he turned and walked toward the stairs. "Don't leave her standing on the porch all alone. She'll think you uncouth."
Lurching toward the door, Stefan stopped and looked back toward Damon, hand resting on the door handle.
"What are you going to do?"
It was annoying how calm Stefan tried to remain. What a waste of control. Damon rubbed the back of his neck, still walking up the stairs at an unhurried human speed. "To sleep, if that's okay. I'm guessing your company is staying the night, so I'm hoping to be out before your pained moans and erratic grunts keep me up again." For full affect, he stopped at the top of the stairs and winked as Stefan stared at him. "You two crazy kids have a good night."
A red-hot burning that felt a lot like embarrassment prickled Stefan's skin as he yanked the door open.
"What?" He grumbled at Elena's surprise.
Elena blinked wide, pulling back a moment before Stefan took her hand.
"I'm so sorry. I just had a..." immediately repentant, he pointed behind him towards the stairs and gestured vaguely, hoping she'd get it.
"He's back?" Elena guessed, smiling with understanding.
"Yeah." Stefan offered a reassuring smile, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "Come in." He took her hand and led her back to the study.
Weeks of listening to Stefan and Elena's whispered conversations weren't making anything easier. But this was his house too, dammit. He wasn't going to keep avoiding home in order to elude whatever this feeling was.
To stop himself from pacing, he fell into bed. Just a little nap. He just needed a moment to rest his eyes in his own damn room. Maybe he wouldn't instantly regret it this time. He was having enough trouble keeping his thoughts at bay when he was awake. The moments before he fell asleep he couldn't hold that switch down anymore and the visions flooded in.
Unfiltered, he could see himself slip back down the stairs. How easy it would be to slide between Stefan and Elena. To command the attention he wanted, that Stefan wanted to give him. He would ignore her until she faded away. They could be brothers again. He would talk to Stefan, really talk, the way Stefan wanted to, without threat or malice.
To talk about what was going on inside him. Find out if Stefan ever felt it too.
He rolled over, pulling the pillow over his face in an attempt to drown out the soft voices downstairs.
It was too easy to picture her smile, the one that warmed his brother's eyes and made him offer shy smiles in return. To see Stefan touch her cheek, making her look up at him through her eyelashes.
Damon tried to convince himself it was her eyes he felt so drawn to. The replica of the face he first fell in love with. Yet, in the place between wake and sleep, he couldn't ignore it was green eyes he imagined staring back at him. The eyes of the little kid who used to look up to him, who watched his every move, whose entire face lit up when Damon was around. The damn girl was a shadow of a former life he no longer gave a shit about.
"Okay, let's take a break. Enough studying for one night." Elena pushed her book and highlighter off her lap.
Smiling hesitantly Stefan set his book aside also. "What kind of break did you have in mind?"
With a coy smile, she grabbed Stefan's hand. "Oh, I don't know. What do you think?"
Stefan eyed the textbooks one more time. She really needed the extra study time if she was going to stop confusing the Pantheon with the Parthenon. Then again, sex. At least, he was pretty sure that was what she was alluding to. He laughed softly, letting Elena pull him to his feet. "I'm sure we can come up with something in my room?"
Damon tried to stretch out of the ball he was curled into. It was just fucking. He heard Stefan have sex so many times. It really wasn't a big deal. It wasn't. Really.
He needed to get out of the house.
His eyes were so heavy though. He tried to pick his head up from under his pillow but his body wasn't cooperating. With a sigh he settled again. The bedding leeched its warmth from his tepid body heat as well as every ounce of energy.
Elena's not-distant-enough moan of pleasure made Damon's mouth dry. He had to get out but it looked like that wasn't going to happen. He was so tired.
What the fuck was going on?
His body flinched and his eyes fell closed.
There were footsteps in the hallway.
Light shuffles somewhere outside his door, quiet but not devious. But Elena was warm against him; fingers stretching over Stefan's side and Damon was always up to something. Sleep pulled heavily at Stefan's consciousness and it was forgotten by morning.
