What Are Brothers For?

'No! Brother! Stop!' I wanted to scream so badly. The dirt began to cover my face. Each grain of dirt that was poured over my eyes, mouth, skin were blows to my hope.
Slowly, my fingers became mobile. My lips could move, but no sound was forming. I was mute for those moments. At least the herb was slowly taking action. Wiggling my fingers to create blood flow, I slowly started building up the self-encouragement that I would make it.
The dirt was forcing my eyes to be shut, to force out the outer-world.

His job was done. Stefan was buried under the earth, in their backyard. Maybe it wasn't the best or most convenient of places, but he thought it made sense for him to burry him there. That way, Damon could keep Stefan close even though he was dead. It was awfully sentimental of him, and it surprised him that he cared so much, but he couldn't help it. Sometimes, he just had to let his humanity in.

A life without Stefan... How could he even begin that? All his life, he had been with Stefan, even when they were apart. His goals were set on him and he always kept tabs on him. With his little brother gone, Damon felt strangely lost.

And then a plan that had once popped into his mind suddenly seemed like a good idea once again. If he couldn't live without Stefan, then he would follow him wherever he had gone.

Glancing down at his ring, he sighed. Yes, that was the best plan. There was nothing left for him in Mystic Falls anyway. Elena didn't even like him, that was becoming pretty obvious to him, and with Stefan gone, there was nothing to tie him to that life. It was best for him to follow Stefan into the afterlife.

"I'm going after you, Stefan." He whispered.

After finding a shadow, he took of his ring, the only protection he had against the sun, and walked into the sunlight.

The once-fading words that emitted from Damon's lips were slowly being placed together in my mind. And once I put the puzzle pieces together, I began to panic. He believed that I was dead. By this time, my upper half was some-what mobile, the only things that I couldn't move were my arms, but my lips were fully-mobile.
Trying my hardest, I continuously pushed the dirt above me, finding that it was no use; I was took weak at this point.
Mustering all of my hidden strength, I tried to form words.
"No." It was spoken in a whisper. With a deep breath in, along with dirt, I tried once more, "No." The volume only jumped by a mere inch. I halted any further actions when I heard a sickening noise that made me jump into full-throttle panic; the sound of skin burning against the blazing sun.
I sagged my shoulders, trying to contain my strength and energy.
And with the new-found energy came, "No! I'm not," I took in a jagged breath, "Dead!" This time, it was loud and nearly shook the dirt above me. Hopefully, he heard, even if it wasn't even loud.

As the sun hit his skin, it burned it to ashes. He could smell it quickly carbonizing, but not quickly enough to take the pain away. It was almost unbearable, and a scream ended up escaping his lips. It was too late to turn back. He didn't want to turn back. He could feel the peaceful feeling that he was going to see his brother again washing over him. It was too good to be true, so good that it made all the pain worth it.

"I'm coming for you Stefan!" He managed to say through the pain. Yes, he was going to see his little brother again. He never thought it would end that way, with him committing suicide, but he didn't care. All he cared about was seeing Stefan again.

In the background, he could hear some noise besides that of his skin burning. It was Stefan's voice. He should be almost dead then, and as he had hoped, Stefan was there waiting for him.

"I knew I'd find you again."

Had he lost his mind? What the hell was he thinking? Mustering my strength once more, I pushed against the dirt, feeling a rush of my vampire strength surge through my arms. I kept pushing until I knew that the dirt above was shifting enough to catch his attention.
There was no way in hell that I would let him kill himself because of me. I could never live with myself if that would happen.
I continued to scream out, "Stop, Damon!" And I continued pushing up, shifting the ground above tremendously.

What was Stefan saying? He didn't want Damon with him? At that point, he didn't really care, he just wanted to see his little brother again. He opened his eyes, expecting to see Stefan standing there, or floating or something like that, but instead he was met with nothing but bright light. Whether that light came from whether plane of existence he was moving on to or from the sun, he didn't know.

But he did notice something strange. There was something moving somewhere. The ground bellow him was the earth, he was sure of that, and so there was still a possibility that he was in Mystic Falls, in the same plane of existence he had been before. Could it be Stefan? No, it wasn't possible. But what if it was him?

"Stefan?" He whispered, too weak and surprised to speak in a normal volume.

I let out a laugh of relief, "Damon," I coughed to get the dirt from my lungs, "Don't do this. I'm not dead." I pushed the ground once more to show that I was still alive. "Don't do this."

Stefan wasn't dead. How could that be? Had the herb actually worked? That wasn't the time to ask those questions, he had to unbury Stefan. But first he had to get out of the sun. But how? He was really weak, probably just a few seconds away from what he had been looking for, death.

However, he couldn't leave Stefan. He had to get out of the sun. At least half of skin had already burned off, and his whole body was under agonizing pain while at the same time it was too numb for him to risk walking. His ring, that was what he needed. But as he tried to put it on, it fell to the ground and rolled away. He'd have to make it to the shadow, there was just no other choice.

"Stefan..." He whispered, gathering all his strength. "Help."

At the words, I wanted to jump into action, but my lower-half was still 'waking up'. I wasn't going to just give up, I had to use what I could. Using my hands as shovels and the vampire speed, I began to dig my way out of the grave. The dirt quickly dug into the bottoms of my nails, making it more difficult to dig. Shaking my head, I cracked my eyes open, wiping away most of the dirt from my eyes.
Seconds later, I had made a hole wide enough to fit my body through. At the moment that I surfaced, I didn't even bother to gasp for the needed breath; I needed to save my brother.
He was a couple of feet away, which, if I could walk, would be easy to accomplish. I searched around for his ring, finding it multiple feet away. It was no use to go after it, he would be long dead by the time I reached it. With my legs still numb, I used my elbows and hands. Slowly, I crawled towards him. My breathing was labored, yet I pushed on.
The sudden sound of burning flesh made me cringe both internally and externally. I felt horrible for causing every moment of this; I wandered into the forest knowing fully well that werewolves and hybrids were crawling around.
And now, here I was, crawling around on the ground with the purpose of saving my brother's life set in mind.
"Don't give up." I said both to him and myself. My hands grew tired.
Soon enough, I had reached his feet. Using my speed and strength, I pulled off my ring, grabbed his hand, and placed it on his finger before I pushed him into the shade under a tall tree.
I was willing to die for my brother.

Damon could hear his brother digging to the surface, but he couldn't quite understand how he was doing it. He'd made the mistake of thinking that his brother had all his motor functions, but as he heard him struggling to get out of his grave, he realized that he was still recovering. But in the end, it wouldn't have a made a difference. He'd have just laid there, without being able to move, either way.

A while later, he heard his brother crawling in his direction. Would he make it in time? He wasn't sure. The bright light that once invaded his eyes was quickly fading as his body shut down. He didn't think he had more than a minute.

But then he felt something being pushed into his finger. A ring, he guessed. His ring? No, it wasn't possible. It was too far away for Stefan to have been able to get it. Then it had to be Stefan's ring.

Had he been able to do so, he'd have protested and refused to let Stefan give his life for him, but he couldn't move. He couldn't even refuse to be pushed away. All he could do was be relieved that the pain was mostly gone and worry about Stefan.

"Stefan." He whispered again. "Hang on, I'll come for you."

The specks of dirt that still covered my eyes were the only source that was keeping the sun from boiling them. With a huge breath of relief, I flopped onto the ground. The sudden scent of burning flesh filled my nostrils once more. And that's when I realized it; I was burning. Biting my lip, I managed to keep a few screams down, only letting groans escape.
I couldn't let fear show now, not after what happened earlier in the day. Every bit of skin was burning as the sun literally baked my body. The sudden hope that Damon was alright and recovering dawned a new-found peace upon me. I didn't care if I died because he had shown his sincerity towards me already. I was preparing to pass into a different world as I closed my eyes.

OOC: He's not dead, he's just preparing to die.

Stefan. He was all what mattered. Damon couldn't stand to lose him again. There had to be something he could do, even though he could barely move a finger. He'd do anything to save his brother.

And then it came to him. His ring. It was far away, but he was sure he could do it. His biggest problem to get the ring wasn't quite the fact that it was a long crawl to get to it of the fact that his body still felt like it was on fire. No, it was that he still couldn't see. All he could do was guess the direction to which he had to go.

"I'm going to get the ring." Damon told Stefan, his voice still no more than a whisper. "And then everything will be okay." He could do it. For Stefan, he could do it.

He threw his body forward, forcing his limbs to move against their will. The pain that exploded through his body was almost worse than that which he had felt when he was burning, but he knew he could stand it. If he couldn't it would all be lost, and Stefan would have sacrificed himself for nothing, because Damon was sure that he would end up committing suicide.

Pulling his body forward with his burned hands, he managed to find his way to the ring. It took him some time, but he finally felt his almost numb fingers meet the ring. But there was one problem. The ring was broken.

"Stefan... It's broken. The ring is broken." Damon told his brother, forcing his voice to come out high enough for him to hear.

If my heart was beating, coursing with blood, it would have skipped a beat at the words. It was broken. All hope dropped. I snapped my eyes open, forcing myself to withstand the coursing pain.
If Damon could do it, then so can I. I glanced over to him, my eyes were completely blood-red at this point, my skin was burnt to a crisp.
My jaw fell open as I began to whisper loud enough for him to hear, "Look away, you shouldn't see this."

"This" Damon said, putting a special emphasis on the word despite how much it tired him to talk. "is not going to happen."

It just couldn't happen. It couldn't be true. His luck couldn't possibly be that bad. The ring, his only hope to save Stefan, was broken. Was that supposed to be a symbol? A broken ring symbolizing a broken hope?

There had to be something he could do. Slowly, he began to drag himself towards Stefan, each inch getting harder to be covered than the last. It had already been hard to get to the ring, making his way to Stefan with a broken ring was even harder, especially since he was getting drained very fast.

"I'll get you to a shade." Damon whispered once he managed to get there. "I don't know how, but I'll do it. Just hang on." He was lying, but Stefan didn't need to know that. He had another plan.

I laid still, fearing that if I moved an inch, I would inflict more pain upon myself. Watching Damon drag himself across the grass seemed like it was a tiring task. I tried desperately to form words, but my mouth was too dry. The familiar urge for blood coursed through me. It was the only thought rushing through my head.
Besides the thoughts of thirst, I was wondering what Damon could possibly do. What could he do with a broken ring?

Out of the two of them, one had to die. And out of the two of them, only one deserved to die, and Damon knew very well who this one person was.

While he had attempted to commit suicide, Stefan had given his life to save him. While Stefan tried, and succeeded, to change himself, Damon was stuck with killing people whenever he felt like it. And while Stefan had someone to go back home to, all Damon had was his ability to compel girls not to remember the monster that he really was. The list could have gone on and on, but that was enough for Damon to see who really deserve to live and who really deserved to die.

And making sure that the right brother died would be his last act of nobility. Without having a second thought, he slipped Stefan's ring off his finger and gave it back to its owner.

"I'm sorry, Stefan" He whispered as his skin began to burn once again.

I shook my head as he placed the ring on my finger, "No." I tried to tug the ring off, but he wouldn't let me. In that one moment, as our gazes locked, I knew that there was no way in hell that I would let him die. It pains me to say it, but I needed my brother, he was my crutch that kept me stable through my Ripper stages.
And that's when the idea dawned upon me; Ripper. The inner monster within me was far more stronger, but it would take a lot of anger and concentration to provoke it.
Thinking of the worst possible scenarios that would anger me, my blood began to boil, my eyes darkened. Slowly, I began to transform into something that I once despised. All thoughts were erased in that moment. The sight before me was foreign as I glanced down to Damon.
"Honestly? You're trying to kill yourself?" My tone was laced with mockery, my mind was completely erased of the person that I was trying so hard to focus on. I had lost every bit of concentration to save Damon.

Damon couldn't believe it. Stefan had turned into the Ripper. He wasn't sure if it was plan to save him gone awfully wrong or if he had somehow accidentally flipped it, but he knew that he was doomed to die there if he couldn't talk Stefan into saving him.

With his already halfway sun-consumed skin, he guessed he had to do it soon. If both of the could be saved, he'd really rather choose that option.

"I was saving you, brother." Damon whispered, trying to keep the pain from showing in his voice. The last thing he needed was Ripper Stefan mocking him for feeling pain. "Because I thought there was something in you worth saving."

I rolled my eyes, "Getting all sentimental on me, are you now?" I slowly walked towards him, a wicked smile playing on my lips.
"Well, look who's the dominant one now." The chuckle roared, while I tried to control myself. This was getting out of hand, I was slowly losing control. And if Damon didn't convince this Ripper side of me to save him, then he was as good as dead.

Damon mentally cursed himself. He should have known better than to try and play the sentimental card with Ripper Stefan. It might work with Stefan, but it hardly ever worked with the Ripper.

What else could he do, though? He had no logical arguments as to why he should be saved, and there was nothing that would die with him that he wanted. He needed to think of something.

"Elena." He whispered, hoping that the Elena card still worked. He still had a few of them up his sleeve, but the less time he loss the higher were the his chances of survival. "She's going to hate you for this."

My eyes softened at the name. Averting my gaze from his, I crouched down, "Promise me you'll keep her away from me." I glanced down to him, my eyes solemn.
It was all that the Ripper needed to know; I needed to have assurance that I wouldn't harm her in this state.

It seemed like he had hit a nerve. All he needed to do was to explore that nerve, see how many other he could reach from there. Maybe, if he played his cards well, he would be able to save himself.

"How do you expect me to do that? I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm kind of dying here." His voice was getting weaker, and his attempts to hide the pain he was feeling were as well. He needed to get out of the sun. "She'll come after you, she'll want to know what happened. And the best you'll be able to do for her will be to sink your fangs... To sink your..." He couldn't keep on going. His sight was already completely gone, and so were most of his muscles. And finally, his ability to speak. It wouldn't be long before he died.

The agitation grew within, "Ugh, I'm only doing this because you begged me to." In one swift motion, I roughly picked him up. Deep within me, the worry was brimming for his health. He looked badly burned and on the verge of death.
As fast as I could, I sped into the house where I practically tossed him onto the couch. Keeping my eyes off of him, I began pacing the floor, "Let's go, heal already!" I bellowed, my eyes darkening with anger.
My inner-self was fading away, losing the tug-of-war for power. My eyes were wide, the vein on my forehead was throbbing as I became more agitated, slipping into the comatose state that is the Ripper.

Damon was quite proud of himself. He had managed to make Ripper Stefan save him, and that, he believed was quite a feat. He could feel his skin beginning to cool off as he was carried inside, but he knew that he wasn't going to get any better until he received some blood. Instead, he would only get worse. He had become weak to a state that the energy he needed for healing was more than what he could spare.

But he didn't have how to ask for blood. He couldn't speak, he couldn't move, he couldn't make telepathic contact with Stefan. All he could do was hope that sooner or later his brother would realize what he needed.

Minutes had passed, and as I glanced over to him again, he was still badly burnt. The agitation level grew. Stomping over towards the couch, a dangerous glint in my darkened eyes, "What? Why aren't you healing?" I spat out.
When no answer filled the air, my feet began to pace the floor once more, a hand on my forehead. While in the process of thinking, I made my way to the kitchen where I could quench my thirst. My throat burned as I whipped open the door, pulling out a blood bag at random. Sloppily, I punctured the bag with my fangs, walking back to the parlor.
The look in his eyes were of pure thirst as he eyed the blood bag. The wicked smirk passed over my lips, "Oh, so it's blood you want?" I walked towards the couch, dangling the bag over his face.