Ann prompted "If you're interested, would you like to do a "flashback" chapter when Stefan is hiding his classification and yet that doesn't change how Damon treats Stefan?"

Manhattan, New York

1996

Damon keeps a tight hold around Stefan as they head for the younger's apartment.

"Where are your keys, buddy?"

Stefan shrugs, resting his head against Damon's. "Dunno."

"Stef." Damon pulls away from him a little and looks into his hazy green eyes. Why did he let him drink this much? "Keys. It's important."

Stefan gestures to the pockets of his jeans. Damon shuffles through one, then the other. Nothing. He checks his brother's jacket, which reeks of tequila.

"They're not there." Stefan shrugs. Damon groans.

"This is the last time I let you get drunk. How are you even this gone?"

"Bunny blood," Stefan slurs his words.

"I resent that diet more and more by the day."

Damon keeps Stefan close as they walk up the steps. The closer they get, he sees something shiny in the lock...

He smacks his little brother upside the head. Stefan yelps, rubbing the injured area and pouting.

"Ow!"

"You left your keys in the door?! Do you know how dangerous that is."

Stefan ignores him. "You hit me, asshole."

"And you're a moron. Give me permission to enter this place."

Stefan sweeps his arms across the door. "Dayman, please come in."

Damon pushes the door open. He puts the key into his pocket and makes sure to lock up behind him once they're inside. He looks around, wrinkling his nose. Stefan said this place was small, but Damon didn't picture a one room space, crammed with junk. There's a dresser in one corner, but that's about the only thing representing the bedroom.

"Do you not have a bed?"

"The couch folds out."

"Ah. Here…"

Damon adjusts Stefan against the island and walks over. It takes a moment to figure out the lumpy contraption, but it does fall out eventually. It's made up with sheets that reek of cigarettes. Damon finds the butts in an ashtray.

"Didn't we discuss you quitting?"

"I'm a vampire."

"It's disgusting."

"You do it too."

"I quit."

Everything is harder for Stefan to let go of. His addictive personality doesn't just end with blood. The kid has about a million vices.

Damon strips off the sheets and throws them in the garbage. Stefan slides to the floor, resting his chin in his hand, watching as his brother replaces them with clean linens from the closet. Damon remakes the bed and notices the old stuffed bunny on the floor. He picks it up by the ear.

"You still have this heap of junk?"

Stefan nods. "So?"

"You've been 17 for over a century now. Thought you would've gotten rid of it."

"You made it for me. Why would I?"

Damon smiles a little. He walks over to his brother and kneels in front of him. He helps him out of his jacket, then takes off his sneakers and socks.

"Arms up," he instructs.

Stefan is thankfully too drunk to care about being undressed by his big brother. Damon takes off his fitted white t-shirt and works on the skinny jeans next. He'll be thankful when this trend is over. Damon makes a face at Stefan's hair. The more decades pass and more cosmetic companies open, the more his once longish curls become gelled together. It's no longer that dark blonde and now resembles something on a Ken doll.

"I should dye over those frosted tips in your sleep," Damon threatens as the tight pants finally fall on the floor.

Stefan's eyes droop close. "I'll kill you," he mumbles.

Damon laughs. "I'd like to see you try, little brother. Now, come on, up and at 'em."

He helps his brother to his feet and leads him to the bed. Stefan falls with an ungrateful heap atop the freshly made bed. Damon pulls a blanket over him, pausing for a moment. He tries to remember the last time he tucked Stefan in.

Giuseppe always accused Damon of babying Stefan too much. The older brother had to sneak around when it came to things like reading his younger brother stories or tucking him into bed. They did well for a long while.

The memory rushes over Damon. He reluctantly followed his father on business so he could learn. Damon was probably 20, putting Stefan around 13. At this point, he wasn't tucking him in every night, but at least a few times a week. Stefan stayed behind, under the care of the nanny he would age out of sometime that year. When Damon returned, he once again waited for Giuseppe to fall asleep before sneaking down the hall to his brother's room. Stefan was already under the covers. Damon attempted to readjust them and fix his pillows, but Stefan pulled away.

"I do not need you tucking me in. I am not a baby anymore."

It took all Damon had not to rebuff the statement. Stefan was a baby. Maybe not physically but Damon had cared for him all these years. He thought of something Lily once said on one of their birthdays. She looked misty eyed and Damon asked what was wrong.

"You both are growing up so fast."

At the time, Damon didn't understand that was a bad thing. Being older was awesome!

It wasn't as fun when it meant his brother didn't need him as much.

Damon shakes the thoughts from his head. He watches as Stefan cuddles the bunny close to him in his sleep, tilting his head. Maybe he should take that. His brother lives on his own and is currently drunk. He's too old to sleep with a stuffed animal.

And still, he lets it go.

Damon tidies up the apartment, checking the fridge. There's no blood. A glance in the cupboards shows no food either. Damon shakes his head. He feels for his wallet in his own pocket before creeping out the door.

After grocery and blood shopping, Damon crashes in the armchair for a bit. He's partied a little hard lately and needs to recover. Damon wakes up not long after the sun comes across the horizon. He resumes his cleaning spree. It was a bit of an adjustment for both to go from a cleaning staff to living on their own, but Stefan usually isn't this bad.

Damon picks up a myriad of folders and begins organizing them. He opens the mini safe Stefan keeps in the closet, his brother uses the safe combination for everything: Lily's birthday. Damon slides the folders in. He spots a clear protective case leaning against the side, containing a yellowing piece of old paper. This looks just like the old records from the early 1900s.

"His classification papers."

Damon isn't sure why his hands reach for it. He knows what it says, after all.

"What's the harm?"

His fingers brush against the case…

"Damon?"

He stands up. Stefan's sitting up in bed, running his fingers through his messy hair.

"What are you still doing here?"

Damon frowns.

"Do you not want me here?"

"I didn't say that. It's not often you stay."

"That's not…"

Damon stops himself. He can't lie to either of them.

"You were pretty wasted last night," Damon says instead. "Had to make sure you didn't wander into the river."

Stefan rolls his eyes. "I don't even know how I can get drunk. You never do."

"Well, one, I'm older. Minors can't hold their liquor as well."

"I'm a vampire."

"And you're on animal blood. Speaking of."

Damon walks to the fridge and grabs a bag of bunny blood. He tosses it his brother's way. Stefan takes a sniff before taking a swig. Damon pretends to be hurt.

"You don't trust me?"

"Just last night you wanted me to try some of your glass. You can never be too careful." Stefan drinks it quickly. Too quickly.

"When's the last time you had blood?"

Stefan shrugs. "Why?"

"Because your fridge was empty. As were your cupboards."

"I go out a lot."

"And you're getting enough blood?"

Stefan rolls his eyes, dropping the bag and getting up.

"Yes, Dad."

Damon shakes his head. "Don't catch that attitude with me."

"Well, you're being ridiculous. I don't need you worrying about me. I'm an adult."

"You're 17."

"And I have been for over a hundred years."

Damon shakes his head. "You'll always be my baby brother, you know that."

Stefan rolls his eyes again. Damon shuts the fridge.

"You're welcome, by the way, for shopping."

Stefan pulls a face. "Thanks, I guess." He looks down at himself for the first time. "You undressed me?"

It's Damon's turn to roll his eyes. "I used to change your diapers. It's nothing I haven't seen." Stefan's face doesn't change. "Forgive me for not wanting to put you to bed in skinny jeans."

Stefan shakes his head. "At least you didn't go through with your threats to dye my hair."

They share a smirk.

"I should've. You look like a member of the Backstreet Boys," Damon shoots back.

Stefan laughs. "Whatever. I'll shower, then we can get coffee."

"Sounds good."

Stefan heads into the bathroom. Damon looks back at the closet and sees the safe is still open. He crouches down and shuts the door, making sure it's secure. There's important documents in there that Stefan wouldn't want just anyone to see.