What Are Brothers For?

Damon was glad to hear his brother's voice one more time, but he was in a bit of a hurry. He didn't want Stefan to suffer any more than what he had to, and he was afraid that the Ripper would take over again. If he did, he would have to make Stefan suffer even more. A thousand years, perhaps, and that would be way beyond torture.

"And after that?" Damon pressed, looking almost pleadingly at his brother. He really didn't want to have to torture him any longer. "Come on, Stefan, think! If the Ripper takes over Ill have to starve you for a thousand years!"

The wheels in my head had begun to spin rapidly; the smoky steam seemed to be pouring from my ears. Thinking twice as hard, the blurry mass that had evolved around my memories was beginning to thicken as I dug deeper into the crevices of my mind.

Coming up empty-handed was the last thing on my mind as it actually happened. Glancing up to Damon, my eyes softened, "I-I can't remember," I shook my head in disbelief, "It's all one, big blur."

The only thing that was currently rushing through the airway of my mind was the stake that was laced with vervain had to be put to good use sooner or later; and he had to end this before someone close dies.

There had to be something that Stefan remembered, anything that would give him a clue as to what he was supposed to do. The Ripper was bound to emerge sooner or later, and when he did, Damon would have to starve Stefan even more, and he didn't even want to think of the pain his brother would feel once he did that.

Kneeling down beside Stefan, Damon put one hand over Stefan's hand, knowing the risk he ran if the Ripper were to emerge, and looked into his brother's eyes.

"Stefan, please, anything." His voice was soft and there was a small hint of pain in it as he remembered the happenings of that day, when he thought his brother was dead. He knew that if Stefan couldn't remember anything, he might end up having to kill Stefan, and the mere thought of it was unbearable. "I can help you remember, if you want. I'm inside your mind, maybe I can help."

Never in all my years had I seen Damon this vulnerable. God only knows how he was acting before when the grim reaper was knocking on my door. I could see the pleading plastered to his eyes as his face softened. It took me a second to soak this all up; Damon, the man who told me that he would make my life a living hell, was kneeling beside me, pleading for answers that I could not find.

My eyes burned as I thought harder, trying my best to push past the membrane that had rapidly grown around each memory that I was desperately searching high and low for. Why can't I locate that memory?

The realization seemed to smack me across the face. Even if my normal self was emerging to the surface, the Ripper had switched to the last resort plan- blocking me from finding any helpful resources.
Growling, I said, "Damon, the damn monster is keeping the memories from me. I can't locate them," I felt like ripping every emotion that was tagged to the Ripper away, "You'll have to dig to find them."

Damon nodded. He'd figured that it wouldn't be easy, with the Ripper still active, even if he was weakened. Stefan's mind was his territory. He knew every corner of it, he lived there, and Damon was at disadvantage. He'd been inside Stefan's mind, but he'd never dug that deep into it.

But he'd try. He had to, even if he ran the risk of being caught by the Ripper. He had no idea what the monster would be able to do with him inside Stefan's mind. The link could backfire, or he could get trapped there. He had no idea if any of those things were possible, but he had to take the risk into account.

He allowed himself to penetrate deeper into Stefan's mind, delving into his memories until he found something strange. In the middle of all his normal memories, there was one which seemed like it was protected. That had to be it.

Damon tried to access it, tried to break the barrier that enveloped it, but he couldn't. The Ripper was too strong. He was probably using all the strength he had to keep that memory safe.

"I found it, but the Ripper is too strong. I can't seem to break the barrier." Damon said, shaking his head. "Has anything like this ever happened before?"

The room fell deadly silent while he worked to find the protected memory. For nearly minutes, my entire head felt like it was mush, almost like playdough. I was in a different world for a matter of mere minutes before being abruptly pulled back to Earth.

Carefully, I tried not to reveal anything to the monster that was toying with my mind, "I don't believe so." The wheels turned once more as I gave into the urge and began to dig into my memories.
One memory struck a sudden note with me. Pulling it from the dusty filing cabinet, I could see that it was a memory of when I was researching vervain. It seemed that vervain darts and syringes, when injected into the blood stream of a vampire, could weaken any force within.
Breathing in relief, I snapped my head up to him, "Get the vervain syringes."

"You found it? The memory?" Damon asked, pulling himself out of Stefan's memories.

Not waiting for a reply, he began to shuffle through the basement, trying to gather as many vervain syringes as he could. But then he found himself faced with a problem. They were running short on their vervain syringes supply.

"Stefan... How many syringes would we need?" Damon asked his brother, staring down at the single syringe he had been able to find.

Trying my hardest to keep the plan out of the grasps of the Ripper, I thought about his question. How many would we need?

Enough to knock me out long enough to break the barrier that the Ripper had created around the memory; it seemed like a well-drawn plan as I leaned back into the chair, hissing upon impact with the chains dripped in vervain.

My hands balled into fists as I could feel a sudden pain growing in my head. It was definitely up to something. Glancing towards Damon, I could see the single syringe in his hand. "As long as it's enough to knock me out long enough for you to get to the memory."

One syringe could be enough to knock Stefan out, but it wouldn't keep him down for long enough for him to get to the memory. Damon desperately tried to come up with something, to try and remember if there were any more syringes in the house, but he couldn't.

He'd have to steal some from the Founders' Council supply. But that could take a while, and he couldn't leave Stefan alone, especially not considering that he probably wouldn't be able to keep up his control on his brother's mind from that far away. There was no telling how strong the Ripper would be when he reawakened.

"This isn't going to be enough." Damon sighed, putting the syringe back inside the drawer where he had found it. "For how long do you think you can fight the Ripper if I stop messing with your mind?"

Just to test out my abilities, I gave the fighting a whirl. Each way I attacked, the Ripper seemed to be lurking above, but keeping its stance by the memory that we so badly needed.

Coming back into reality, I said, "I can handle it, it's keeping sentry over the memory." I felt as if I were trapped within my own mind, taken prisoner in my own world.

Damon hoped Stefan was right about being able to handle the Ripper. The consequences if he wasn't would be disastrous. He knew the Ripper was going to go after him, to get his revenge, but after that the whole town would be in danger.

Picking up some more chains, Damon made his way to Stefan. He didn't want to cause his brother any more pain, but he wanted to put obstacles to slow down the Ripper if he was to take over.

"I'm going to put some more chains and... stake you bellow the heart, just in case. I'm... I'm sorry." He told his little brother. As he went into his more efficient mode, it got harder for him to apologize, but he needed to. He needed to because he knew there was a chance that he would have to kill Stefan, and there were already too many things left unsaid between the two of them.

Looking at his brother with the most apologetic face he could muster, he staked his brother bellow the heart and wrapped the other chains around him.

I winced at the fair warning he gave me. To society it would seem cruel, but in my eyes, it was the bravest thing he had ever done for me.

Forcefully, I looked away from his eyes, for I did not want to see his face when he drove the stake in below my heart. Seconds ticked by before I bit my lip, wanting this all to be over. Then, the sudden swift movement of his hand, I clamped my eyes shut.
In a sudden moment, my chest was on fire. The bottom jaw began to chatter as the pain rattled through me. Wave after wave of pain shot through me.
Don't scream. Don't scream. I kept my eyes shut, trying to focus on the pain. As if it wasn't enough, the pain built as the chains were placed wrapped around me. The sizzle of my skin filled the air. Biting my lip harder, there was a sudden screaming in my head. What it was, I shall never know.

It was hard to watch his brother in so much pain, but Damon knew he couldn't just stick a stake in him and leave. He wanted to be sure that he was okay, even though there was a small voice in head that was telling him "Of course he isn't okay, you just staked him!". He knew that it was the best option.

Kneeling beside Stefan once again, he looked at his brother's closed eyes, trying not to think about the fact that he was the reason that he was in so much pain, that he was the one who staked him.

"I'll be back soon, okay? I'll come back as fast as possible." His tone was soft again, almost sweet. Seeing his brother in so much pain had brought back his previous sentimental mood.

Hearing his voice as soft as a a mother to her child I clicked my eyes open. They were clearly bloodshot as I looked towards him. The waves of pain were still washing over me.

Gulping down the screams, I choked out, "Be quick, I can only control it for so long." I didn't want to worry him with the bloodshot eyes, so I directed my gaze back to the wall. The bland, gray, brick wall.

How the hell did all of this happen?

Damon nodded. He had noticed how bloodshot his brother's eyes were, but he knew he didn't have time enough to worry about it. He had to go get the vervain syringes.

Getting up from the ground quickly, he ran towards the Founders' Hall, hoping that he would find enough syringes there. He knew he had given Sheriff Forbes a box full of them, but he had no idea how many had already been used or if they even were there.

Breaking into the storage room was no problem. Even though it was supposed to protect things that vampires would want to steal, its security was very bad. There were no cameras and the door only needed a kick to be opened. Perhaps not a human kick, but a vampire kick was enough to take the door off its hinges.

Shuffling through the many boxes carefully, he finally found what he had been looking for. The syringes. After pocketing a handful of them, he ran away. He didn't care that it would be obvious that someone had broken into the room. There was nothing that would lead the Council to him, and he had promised his brother that he wouldn't be away for long, and it had already been longer than he'd expected.

It was deadly silent for several minutes, the only noises were the unneeded breaths that I took to alleviate some of the pain. The room felt as if it were slowly closing in on me.

'What the hell?' Clearly, the little monster was still playing tricks. Shaking my head, I focused on the nearest wall. Still, the walls seemed to close in. My breathing grew erratic and panicky.

Suddenly, there were voices surrounding me. Or was that in my head?
"You're so weak." It sounded as if it were Damon. My head jerked up at the voice, believing that it was him.
"What do you mean?" I asked, searching around for his face.
"Look at you! The weakest vampire I've ever laid eyes on."
I shut my eyes, trying to keep the anger down. Anger would just strengthen the bastard, "No." I gripped the arms of the chairs harder, feeling as if the chains were now tightening.

Damon had expected to find the Boarding House silent, or to hear only groans or screams or other sounds of pain, but instead he could hear Stefan talking to someone. Or at least he guessed that he was speaking to someone, as he the only voice he heard was Stefan's.

Worried, Damon ran to the basement. Stefan was alone, so he supposed the person he had been talking to was the Ripper. Putting the syringes down as far away from his brother as he could, he turned his attention back to Stefan. He knew he should just inject him, but he needed to be sure that he was okay, and that it was necessary to knock him out. Maybe, just maybe, the Ripper had said something useful.

"Stefan?" He kneeled beside his brother, hoping that he would manage to speak to Stefan, not the Ripper.

I hadn't seen him walk into the cell, for I was too drowned in the Ripper's seize. Snapping back into reality, my dazed eyes glanced to him.
"Hi." I said, my brain feeling completely numb. My eyes were still bloodshot as I looked into his eyes.
The Ripper still had a powerful grip on my mind.

Though Damon was glad to see that Stefan was still there, his brother's bloodshot eyes were beginning to worry him. He was almost sure that they signaled that the Ripper was there, fighting to take over his mind. A part of him wanted to just inject the vervain and get it over with, but he knew that it was important for him to check if the Ripper hadn't said anything important. Maybe there was no point in torturing Stefan any longer.

"Did he tell you anything?" Damon asked, looking into his brother's bloodshot eyes and trying to guess if the next reply would come from his brother or the Ripper. If it came from the Ripper, Damon would have to put Stefan through starvation again, and he didn't want to do it.

Biting back the remarks that the Ripper had cooked up, I looked towards the wall. I wanted so badly to tell him, but something inside was stopping me.

Trying desperately to win the inner-battle, I finally prevailed. Shaking my head, I said, "No, it was you who told me that I was weak." I glanced towards him, "You."

Damon couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Stefan thought that he had called him weak. He had called him that several times before, but not then. He wouldn't do that, not when his little brother was in so much pain. He was about to reply when it dawned on him. The Ripper. The Ripper had fooled Stefan into thinking he had said that. He wanted to make Stefan angry so that he could get stronger and defeat him.

There was no time to lose, then. He got up and ran to the little table where he had left the vervain syringes, telling himself over and over that he had to do it, that it would be best in the long run.

"I hope this doesn't hurt." He whispered high enough for Stefan to hear.

And with that, he stuck the needle into his brother's neck and injected the vervain.

I watched the conflict in his eyes as he reached for the syringes on the table. Continuing to watch, everything went red, my true self slowly dissipated.

As he stuck the needle into my neck, my eyes grew red, hissing and growling. Even with the fighting that the Ripper was showing, it was slowly weakening it with each struggle. I lunged forward then crashed back onto the chair.

"You can't destroy me!" I screamed out, becoming weaker with each word,

It seemed like one syringe wasn't going to be enough. The Ripper was too strong, stronger than Damon had imagined, but hopefully not so strong that it would actually manage to break away from the chains while Damon went to pick up another syringe.

"Stefan, try to keep a grip on your mind!" He asked his brother.

Running to the table where a little over a dozen of syringes were resting, Damon picked up one of them and glanced over at his brother, hoping that he was still sitting on the chair, restrained by the chains.

Shaking my head feverishly, it seemed to awaken my true self. Grabbing hold of the reigns, I controlled my mind.
The growling that was being emitted from my lips was ongoing as I struggled for control.

As I glanced up to Damon, I said very few words, and they even came out in a unnecessary harsh tone, "Do it! Now!" I screamed as my hands were being controlled by another force. My hands were struggling to break away from the chains, burning my skin.

At Stefan's words, Damon ran up to him and stuck the needle into his neck, injecting the vervain.

The Ripper was angry, that much was pretty obvious. Damon guessed that he knew he was soon going to be defeated again, shoved back to the darkest corners of his brother's mind, and that there was no telling when he'd be able to come out again. Hopefully, though, he never would.

"Stefan? Are you still awake?" Damon asked, kneeling close to Stefan, for once hoping that he didn't get an answer. He had no idea what three syringes of vervain would do to him.