Chapter 14: Broken Brothers (Damon's POV)

Lying in bed, Bella curled up beside me, a wave of exhaustion washed over me. Caring. It was a burden, a responsibility I hadn't truly understood before. All these years, watching Stefan… it seemed effortless for him. But maybe that was the difference between being compelled by blood and choosing to care.

A part of me, a selfish part, yearned to grab Bella and run away. Start fresh, somewhere far from Mystic Falls, its drama, and its ever-growing list of supernatural threats. But the thought of leaving Stefan… well, the truth was, the idea didn't sit right. We were a family, dysfunctional as hell, but a family nonetheless.

Suddenly, Bella's voice filled my head, a soft echo in the silence. "It's okay to admit you know," she said.

I blinked, startled. Had she read my mind? "Admit what?" I asked, cautiously stroking her back.

"That you care for your brother," she replied.

Right. Mind reading. Still getting used to that vampire wife thing.

"Yeah, well, Stefan can be a pain," I mumbled, trying to deflect.

"He did play the hero once, you know," Bella said, her voice laced with amusement. "Went off to war and everything."

"War?" I raised an eyebrow, surprised by her sudden interest. "Yeah, World War II, mid-1930s."

"Ooh, fascinating," she teased, "but remember, I'm still stuck in the 20s, so no spoilers."

A chuckle escaped my lips. "Well, it wasn't exactly a walk in the park, sweetheart. More like a descent into hell."

"Did it help, him going I mean?" she asked, her voice serious now.

I closed my eyes, memories flickering to life. Me and Stefan, in a smoky bar, the air thick with tension. "I was supposed to go too," I confessed. "But…" I hesitated, the bitterness of the past resurfacing.

"But?" Bella prompted gently.

"His best friend – Lexi, that was her name – talked me out of it. Said he'd be better off alone than with my… company." The last word hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the volatile relationship I once shared with my brother.

"Lexi? Is that… the one you…" Bella trailed off, her voice cautious.

"The one I killed in front of him on his birthday?" I finished the question for her, a pang of guilt twisting in my gut.

"A little bit glad she's dead now, stuck-up cow saying that to you," she blurted out.

The unexpected defense from Bella warmed me from the inside out. I leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I shouldn't have killed her, you know. It's one of the few things I actually regret. Done a lot of terrible things in my life, haven't felt guilty about many, but that one… yeah, that one stings."

Bella tilted her head up, her eyes searching mine. "You should tell him," she said softly. "I'm sure it would mean a lot."

"Maybe," I admitted, hesitantly. "But Stefan… he's complicated."

Just then, Bella's eyes narrowed. "Any more trouble from John Gilbert?" she asked, sensing my desire to change the subject.

"Don't worry about him," I assured her, pulling her closer. "Pretty sure he knows never to threaten my wife again."

A mischievous smile played on her lips. "Good," she murmured, snuggling against me. "Now tell me more about this war. Did you see any…" her voice trailed off suggestively, "interesting sights?"

I chuckled, throwing my arm around her. Maybe caring wasn't so bad after all. Especially when it came with a wife as curious and entertaining as Bella.

O_O_O_O_O_O_O

3rd Person's POV

The flickering firelight cast dancing shadows on the wall as Bella found Damon slumped in an armchair, a glass of amber liquid clutched loosely in his hand. He wasn't overtly intoxicated, but there was a certain lethargy in his posture that suggested he'd started his day a little too early.

Ignoring the half-empty glass, Bella focused on the object in his other hand, a small, intricate pocket watch with a tarnished silver case. "What is it?" she asked, curiosity piqued.

"Beats me," Damon mumbled, his gaze fixed on the watch's face. "Doesn't tick, doesn't tock. Whatever it is, it's definitely broken."

Bella slid onto his lap, her arms wrapping around his neck. Taking the watch from him, she examined it with a discerning eye. "Did Pearl say anything else about it?"

Damon ran a hand through his hair. "Just that she thought she was stealing his vampire compass, but clearly, it's just a fancy watch. Johnathan Gilbert was one strange bird, even for a witch hunter."

A shiver danced down Bella's spine. "So not unlike the present John Gilbert, minus the scientist part."

"Except maybe the crazy," Damon chuckled, though the sound lacked humor. "Think he's still fuming about me breaking his hands?"

"Furious," Bella confirmed, her voice laced with concern. John Gilbert's veiled threats still echoed in her mind.

Damon set his glass down and scooped Bella into his arms before she could dwell on it. A surprised squeal escaped her lips as he carried her towards the bathroom. "What are you doing?" she exclaimed, laughter bubbling up in her chest.

"Treat time, love," Damon declared, his lips brushing against her ear. "The Damon Salvatore edition of a relaxing bath. And don't you worry your pretty head about Elena's trigger-happy uncle. As long as we have each other, nothing can touch us."

He deposited her on the edge of the luxurious bathtub, the steam already rising in swirling tendrils. With a slow, deliberate touch, he began unbuttoning her pajamas, his lips trailing kisses down her exposed skin. Anticipation fluttered in Bella's stomach as the bath filled with steaming water, scented with fragrant oils and sprinkled with rose petals.

"Wow," she breathed, gazing at the inviting scene before her. "Baths have definitely gotten more sophisticated over time. And this tub is practically the size of a small pond!"

"Just wait until you're in it," Damon whispered, his voice husky with desire. "Nothing will feel as good… especially once I join you."

He winked, his fingers already working on the buttons of his own shirt. Bella watched him with a hungry gaze, her heart pounding a wild rhythm against her ribs. Just as he was about to step into the tub, the shrill ring of his phone shattered the romantic mood.

Damon groaned in frustration, pulling the phone out of his pocket. "Someone better be dying or dead," he muttered before answering.

A chuckle came through the receiver. "Good morning to you too, Damon," Alaric greeted on the other end.

"Before I hang up," Damon began, his voice laced with suspicion, "how the hell did you get this number?"

Bella watched him, a playful smile on her lips, as he turned his back on the phone, clearly more interested in the scene unfolding before him.

"Ah, I'm a man of many talents," Alaric said with a hint of amusement. "Listen, I've been doing some digging on Elena's uncle. You interested?"

Damon's head fell back in a groan, but his eyes remained fixed on Bella as she ran her hand along the length of his bare torso. "Isobel knows John. Yada yada, whatever. We knew that," he muttered, his voice barely audible over the soft moans escaping Bella's lips as she leaned in to explore his chest with her tongue.

"Damon, are you listening to me?" Alaric pressed.

"Hold on!" Damon finally snapped, silencing the phone with a wave of his hand. He focused back on Bella, his gaze burning with desire. His grip tightened on her hips, his breath quickening.

"Isobel knows John," he repeated absentmindedly, his focus entirely on the woman in his arms.

Alaric's voice continued on from the phone, a steady stream of information lost in the rising tide of passion between Bella and Damon. Her hands tangled in his hair, urging him closer, and he readily complied, his phone forgotten on the floor. As they surrendered to their desire, the only sounds that filled the room were the soft murmur of water, the crackle of the fireplace, and the passionate sighs that escaped their lips.

The heat of the moment simmered as Damon reached behind him, fumbling for his discarded phone. Ignoring the lingering taste of Bella on his lips, he barked into the receiver, "What?"

Expecting Alaric's gruff voice, he was surprised to hear Elena's frantic tone. "Damon, it's Elena. How's Stefan doing?"

"Extra broody," he muttered, his eyes glued to Bella who was now submerged in the tub, bubbles clinging to her like a mischievous cloud.

He muted the phone with a swift tap, turning back to Bella with a playful grin. "Looks like I gotta head out. Ric's digging up dirt on crazy Uncle John. The more ammo we have, the better."

Bella chuckled, surfacing with a mischievous glint in her eyes. She leaned back, her chest strategically obscured by the fragrant froth. Her hand ran a tantalizing path down her thigh, disappearing beneath the water right where he knew he wanted it to be.

"Oh, well then," she drawled, her voice dripping with mock innocence, "it looks like I'll have to dirty myself in this bath all alone."

A low groan escaped Damon's lips. This wouldn't be easy. He glanced at the clock – fifteen minutes. Fifteen measly minutes before he had to meet Alaric.

"Fine," he conceded, feigning defeat. But then, an idea struck him. He switched his focus back to Elena, though his frustration was evident in his raspy voice.

"What was I saying?" he muttered, more to himself than to Elena.

Bella, ever the observant one, saw his struggle and leaned forward, whispering the answer against the rim of the tub. "He won't eat anything," she provided.

"Right," Damon confirmed, shooting Bella a grateful glance. Back to the phone he went. "He won't eat anything," he repeated, albeit a little more convincingly this time.

"He has to eat something," Elena's voice grew even more worried. "What's his favorite… kind of, um…"

"Favorite kind of what?" Damon asked, his gaze lingering on Bella's playful movements in the water.

The image of Elena's worried face clashed with the sensuality unfolding before him, effectively killing the mood. "Ew, gross," he muttered under his breath, momentarily forgetting about Elena completely.

Bella, sensing the shift, sent him a playful pout. He couldn't stay here all day, no matter how tempting it was.

Scrambling for a believable answer, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Uhh, I don't know… Stefan likes… puppy blood," he declared, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Little golden retriever puppies with cute, floppy ears. That's his favorite."

A beat of stunned silence followed his ridiculous answer. Before Elena could respond, Damon hung up, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. He met Bella's gaze, a silent challenge in the air.

"Seven minutes," he announced, a playful smirk gracing his lips. "Let's make the most of them."

With a triumphant roar, he plunged into the tub, disappearing beneath the bubbles with Bella. The bathroom was once again filled with the sound of playful splashing and delighted laughter, the outside world momentarily forgotten.